Enter Chamont.
Welcome, thou relict of the best-loved man!
Welcome from all the turmoils, and the hazards
Of certain danger, and uncertain fortune!
Welcome as happy tidings after fears!
Cham. Words would but wrong the gratitude I owe you.
Should I begin to speak, my soul's so full
That I should talk of nothing else all day.
Mon. My brother!
Cham. Oh my sister! let me hold thee
Long in my arms. I've not beheld thy face
These many days; by night I've often seen thee
In gentle dreams, and satisfied my soul
With fancied joy, till morning cares awaked me.—
Another sister! sure it must be so;
Though, I remember well, I had but one:
But I feel something in my heart that prompts
And tells me she has claim and interest there.
Acast. Young soldier, you've not only studied war;
Courtship, I see, has been your practice too,
And may not prove unwelcome to my daughter.
Cham. Is she your daughter? then my heart told true!
And I'm at least her brother by adoption;
For you have made yourself to me a father,
And by that patent I have leave to love her.
Ser. Monimia, thou hast told me men are false,
Will flatter, feign, and make an art of love:
Is Chamont so? No, sure he's more than man,
Something that's near divine, and truth dwells in him.
Acast. Thus happy, who would envy pompous power,
The luxury of courts, or wealth of cities?
Let there be joy through all the house this day;
In every room let plenty flow at large;
It is the birth-day of my royal master.
You have not visited the court, Chamont,
Since your return?