_Arta_. Oh, there’s no doubt, but we’ll depopulate _Scythia_, And lead its King, with the vain Prince his Son, Loaden with Irons, to adorn your Triumphs. _Ther_. Madam, I must confess your Force is great, And the Assistance of these Men considerable; Yet I advise your Majesty to prepare For the Defeat of the great King of _Scythia_, As to a Business much more difficult Than they present it to you: for I know The Forces of that Nation are not less. [_Looks with scorn on them_. --Consider too, that King was never conquer’d, Though these believe to do’t with so much ease. I oft have seen _Thersander_, that young Prince, Upon whose Sword Fortune her self depends, --And I can tell--he’s not so easily chain’d, As, _Artabazes_, you imagine him. _Arta_. What, do you think to fright us with the Praises You give our Enemies? --I have heard of that King, and of _Thersander_ too; But never heard of so much Terror in ‘em, Should make us apprehend an ill Success; --And you, _Clemanthis_, do not know us well, To think we’ll tremble for the Prince of _Scythia_, Though many such as you should take his part. _Ther_. How, many such as I! [_Gomes up to his Breast_. Gods! with your selves no other Enemies To join with that young Prince; To conquer him and many such as I, Requires a Number of such Kings as you. _Ism_. It is too much, _Clemanthis_; were you well Affected to the Service of the Queen, You would not thus commend her Enemies. _Ther_. Madam, I humbly beg your Pardon, I have fail’d in the Respect I owe you, By what I’ve said in favour of your Enemies, Whom, whilst you think so easily o’ercome, You will neglect that Power should make you Victor. _Qu_. ‘Tis Virtue, Sir, that makes you give what’s due, Though to the Advantage of those Men you hate-- --I must not have you take ought ill from him. [_To the_ King. But as you’ve all unanimously join’d To assist us in this War, so all embrace, [Ther. _salutes ‘em coldly_. Be one and ever Friends. Brother, I leave the Conduct of this hopeful Army [_To_ Hon. To your unquestion’d Care; and if you can, Oblige this noble Stranger for ever in our Service. _Cleo_. Uncle, I’ll to the Camp with you; And you, _Clemanthis_, must be near me still. [Ther. _bows. All go out but_ Ther. Hon. Lysan. _Hon. Clemanthis_, you are troubled. _Ther_. I was a little ruffled, but ‘tis gone. _Hon_. You shou’d not blame them, Sir, for envying you, A Man so young, and such a Name in War. _Ther_. That, Sir, is only your Esteem of it. _Hon_. No, dear _Clemanthis_, that I may declare To all the World and thee, how much I prize it, Without consulting of your Quality, I’ll make you absolute Master of my Fortune. _Ther_. Heav’ns! whence this Generosity? [_Aside_. _Hon_. I have a Daughter, Sir, an only Child, Whom all the World esteems a virtuous one, And for whose Love Princes have su’d in vain, I now with Joy will render you in Marriage.