_Pim_. Well said, i’faith, Colonel; but if he be so fine a Man, why did you not keep him here amongst you to do Execution on the _Scythians_? for I think e’er long you’ll give ‘em Battel. _Val_. The General, whose noble Life he sav’d, Us’d all his Interest with him, but in vain: He neither could oblige his stay i’th’ Camp, Nor get him to the Court. Oh! were his Quality But like his Actions great, he were a Man To merit _Cleomena_, Whose Worth and Beauty, as a thing Divine, I reverence. But I abhor the feeble Reign of Women; It foretels the Downfal of the noblest Trade, War. Give me a Man to lead me on to Dangers, Such as _Clemanthis_ is, or as _Orsames_ might have been. _Pim_. Colonel, ‘tis Treason but to name _Orsames_, and much more to wish he were as King. _Val_. Not wish he were! by all those Gods I will, Who did conspire against him in their Oracles. Not wish him King! yes, and may live to see it. _Pim_. What should we do with such a King? The Gods foretel he shall be fierce and bloody, a Ravisher, a Tyrant o’er his People; his Reign but short, and so unfit for Reign. _Val_. The Gods! I’ll not trust ‘em for a Day’s Pay--let them but give one a taste of his Reign, tho but an hour, and I’ll be converted to them. _Pim_. Besides, he is very ill bred for a King; he knows nothing of the World, cannot dress himself, nor sing, nor dance, or play on any Musick; ne’er saw a Woman, nor knows how to make use of one if he had her. There’s an old fusty Philosopher that instructs him; but ‘tis in nothing ever that shall make a fine Gentleman of him: He teaches him a deal of Awe and Reverence to the Gods; and tells him that his natural Reason’s Sin--But, Colonel, between you and I, he’ll no more of that Philosophy, but grows as sullen as if you had the breeding of him here i’th’ Camp. _Val_. Thou tell’st me heavenly News; a King, a King again! Oh, for a mutinous Rabble, that would break the Prison-Walls, and set _Orsames_ free, both from his Fetters and his Ignorance. _Pim_. There is a Discourse at Court, that the Queen designs to bring him out, and try how he would behave himself: But I’m none of that Counsel, she’s like to make a fine Court on’t; we have enough in the Virago he Daughter, who, if it were not for her Beauty, one would swear were no Woman, she’s so given to Noise and Fighting. _Val_. I never saw her since she was a Child, and then she naturally hated _Scythia_. _Pim_. Nay, she’s in that mind still; and the superstitious Queen, who thinks that Crown belongs to _Cleomena_-- _Val_. Yes, that was the Promise of the Oracle too. _Pim_. Breeds her more like a General than a Woman. Ah, how she loves fine Arms! a Bow, a Quiver! and though she be no natural Amazon, she’s capable of all their martial Fopperies--But hark, what Noise is that? [_Song within_. _Val_. ‘Tis what we do not use to hear--Stand by. SONG. (1.)