_Art_. That Justice I may hope as well as you; He kill’d my Nephew, young _Philemon_, For which I’ll be reveng’d. _Qu_. I cannot but commend that noble Ardor That carries you to those Designs of Glory; What thinks my Brother of it? _Hon_. I like it, if the Victor will accept it. _Cleo_. And so do I; And that we may do equal Justice to you all, We’ll write _Thersander’s_ Name, And he who draws that Name shall fight the Combat. _Hon_. But are you sure he will accept the Offer? _Ism_. I dare engage he will. _Cleo_. I am of your Opinion; The only brave are never proud of Conquest, I’ll write his Name my self. _Enter_ Page. _Hon_. What Shouts are these? [_A Shout without_. _Page_. Madam, _Clemanthis_ is arriv’d. _Qu_. The News is welcome. _Enter_ Ther. _kneels, kisses the_ Queen’s _Hand; the same to_ Cleomena--_salutes all_. _Ther_. Madam, the great Necessity which made me leave you, When I believ’d my self unprofitable, Could not detain me when I was assur’d My Sword could do you Service. _Qu_. This Visit recompenses all our Loss, You’ve made it in a time you may redeem The Opinion your Absence almost forfeited. _Hon_. Sir, I cou’d chide you too, but that your Sight Changes my Anger into kinder Welcomes. _Ther_. I ought to suffer, Sir, in your Opinion, Till my Excuses may redeem my Credit. _Cleo_. How great at once, and innocent he seems, And how his Eyes his past Offence redeems! Whilst all my Cruelties they seem t’ upbraid, They pardon too the Faults themselves have made. _Qu_. I’m satisfy’d, and you are fitly come To share a Danger we are now disputing. _Ther_. ‘Tis not the Danger, Madam, can divert me From enterprizing ought that is to serve you. _Art_. Madam, consider who we are, And ought not to be rank’d with one below us. _Ther_. Your Honour, _Artabazes_, is too nice; Would we could find in this Dispute, whate’er it be, That were the greatest Difficulty: --Madam, name your Commands. _Qu_. We are drawing of a Lot To fight _Thersander_ in a single Combat. _Ther_. Hah--_Thersander_, Madam, is a Conqueror. _Ism_. Since you’re so nice, we will excuse you, Sir. _Ther_. What an unlucky accident was this! One Moment’s longer stay had made me happy, [_Aside_. And render’d up these Rivals to my Power. _Hon_. Come, Sir, the Lots are ready. [_They draw Lots. It falls to_ Ther. _Ther_. My Fears are all compleated-- [_Aside_. The Lot is mine. _Cleo. Clemanthis_, I’m so sensible of the Danger [_Aside to him_. Whereto you must expose your self for me, I cannot think with Pleasure on the Victory You possibly may gain. _Ther_. Encourag’d thus, I cannot fail of Conquest; [_Bows to her, and speaks low_. But, Madam, if _Thersander_ be as nice [_Turns to the Queen_. As these two Princes are, it will be hard To get him to accept a Challenge from me.