Her. Then, in few words, Palmyra is your daughter.
Poly. How can I give belief to this impostor?
He, who has once abused me, often may.
I'll hear no more.
Arga. For your own sake, you must.
Her. A parent's love,—for I confess my crime,—
Moved me to say, Leonidas was yours;
But when I heard Palmyra was to die,
The fear of guiltless blood so stung my conscience,
That I resolved, even with my shame, to save
Your daughter's life.
Poly. But how can I be certain, but that interest,
Which moved you first to say your son was mine,
Does not now move you too, to save your daughter?
Her. You had but then my word; I bring you now
Authentic testimonies. Sir, in short, [Delivers on his knees a jewel, and letter.
If this will not convince you, let me suffer.
Poly. I know this jewel well; 'twas once my mother's, [Looking first on the jewel.
Which, marrying, I presented to my wife.
And this, O this is my Eudocia's hand.
This was the pledge of love given to Eudocia, [Reads.
Who, dying, to her young Palmyra leaves it;
And this, when you, my dearest lord, receive,
Own her, and think on me, dying Eudocia.
Take it; 'tis well there is no more to read. [To Arga.
My eyes grow full, and swim in their own light. [He embraces Palm.
Palm. I fear, sir, this is your intended pageant.
You sport yourself at poor Palmyra's cost;
But if you think to make me proud,
Indeed I cannot be so: I was born
With humble thoughts, and lowly, like my birth.
A real fortune could not make me haughty,
Much less a feigned.
Poly. This was her mother's temper.
I have too much deserved thou shouldst suspect
That I am not thy father; but my love
Shall henceforth show I am. Behold my eyes,
And see a father there begin to flow:
This is not feigned, Palmyra.
Palm. I doubt no longer, sir; you are a king,
And cannot lie: Falsehood's a vice too base
To find a room in any royal breast.
I know, in spite of my unworthiness,
I am your child; for when you would have killed me,
Methought I loved you then.