_Cleo. Clemanthis’. Deeds has rais’d his Fame too high To be esteem’d unworthy of that Justice; Nor can we find the _Scythian_ Prince a Foe More equal to his Youth and Valour too. _Ther_. If Fortune bless me with Success to Day, I’ll owe it to your Cause and not my Sword. _Qu_. May’st thou be ever Victor. [_They lead him out. Manent_ Arta. Ism. _Art_. My Art shall fail me then. _Ism_. You are displeas’d, Sir. _Art_. Is that a Wonder? Who can be tame, and see an unknown Youth, Who brings no Forces but his single Arm, Ravish the Hope and Spoil of Victory from us. And rival us in Love as well as Glory, Whilst both our Claims to _Cleomena’s_ Heart Must be neglected since we want Success? _Ism_. We could pretend to her no other way. _Art_. Have you, or I, less Virtue than _Clemanthis_? _Ism_. Yes, if we envy at his Merits. _Art_. Pursue your virtuous Road, and in the end See whether you or I reach first the Goal. I’ll take Revenge. [Art. exit. _Ism_. I Honour will pursue, A Path which never led me to Repentance. --_Clemanthis_, if thy Life I basely sought, Like him, I’d save the Hazard of my own; But as thou’rt brave, so thou shalt bravely fall Before _Thersander_ rob me of thy Life, Or thou the Fortune hast to vanquish him-- And if in this Encounter I expire, I do but fall a Victim to an hopeless Fire. [_Exit_. SCENE V. _Changes to the Wood_. _Discovers_ Ther. _and_ Amin. _among the Trees, changing Clothes; after which they come forth_. _Ther_. So, now thou dost appear so like _Clemanthis_, That not a _Dacian_ but will be mistaken in thee. _Amin_. My Lord, I know not how I may appear, But I am ignorant how I am to act. _Ther_. Remain within the Covert of this Wood, Until the Sign be given for the Combat, And then appear upon the Place appointed, Where I will meet and fight with thee; But so I’ll order all the Blows I give, They shall not wound nor hurt thee, For still remember I must be the Victor. _Amin_. I will endeavour to perform it so, [_Noise_. That none shall know the Fallacy. _Ther_. Be gone, I hear a Noise; farewel, dear _Amintas_, Remember that you act Clemanthis well. [_Ex_. Ther. _Enter some Fellows in Clokes_. 1 _Fel_. That’s he that goes into the Wood, I know him by his Plume; are ye all ready? 2 _Fel_. Yes, for a greater Murder than the killing of one single Man; and here’s a Place as fit as we could wish; shall we set upon him altogether? 1 _Fel_. Ay, ay, Neatness in this Affair is not required: kill him, and _Artabazes_ desires no more. [The Fellows go behind the Trees, they fight, Amintas falls. Enter _Ismenes_.