If I consult my Reason and my Courage, They say I should not love this cruel Maid. But oh, my Reason, you’re weak to counsel; I’ll think of nothing else but dying for her, Since ‘tis my Life she asks, and here demands it. But ‘tis in vain to arm my happy Rivals, For I my self can more devoutly serve you. ’.is I will pierce this unaccepted Heart, Whose Flames are found so criminal-- _Enter_ Lysander. _Lys_. Sir, there’s without a Youth that desires admittance. _Ther_. From whom comes he? _Lys_. He would not tell me that, but has a Letter, Which he’ll deliver only to your Highness. _Ther_. Bring him in, it may be from _Amintas_. _Enter_ Cleomena _drest like a Country-Shepherd, comes bowing to him, gives him a Note_. _Ther_. reads to himself-- Guard thee well, _Thersander_; for thou shalt die by the Hand that brings thee this. [_She stabs him; he falls into_ Lysander’s _Arms_. _Cleo_. Here’s to thee, dear _Clemanthis_-- _Lys_. Help, Treason, help-- _Ther_. Ah, lovely Youth, who taught thee so much cruelty? And why that Language with that angry Blow? _Cleo_. Behold this Face, and then inform thy self. [_Discovers her self_. _Ther_. ‘Tis _Cleomena_! oh ye Gods, I thank ye! It is her Hand that wounds me, And I’ll receive my Death with perfect Joy, If I may be permitted but to kiss That blessed Hand that sent it. _Enter_ King _and Guards_. _King. Thersander_ murder’d! oh, inhumane Deed! Drag the Traitor to a Dungeon, till we have Invented unheard of Tortures to destroy him by-- [_The Guards seize_ Cleo. _and_ Sem. _who was just entring_. My Wounds are deep as thine, my dear _Thersander_; Oh, fatal Day, wherein one fatal Stroke. Has laid the Hopes of _Scythia_ in his Tomb! _The Guards go to carry_ Cleo. _and_ Sem. Ther. _calls ‘em back_. _Ther_. Oh, stay, and do not bear so rudely off Treasures you cannot value. --Sir,--do not treat her as my Murderer, But as my Sovereign Deity-- Instead of Fetters, give her Crowns and Scepters; And let her be conducted into Dacia, With all the Triumphs of a Conqueror. For me, no other Glory I desire, Than at her Feet thus willingly to expire. [_Goes to throw himself at her Feet, they prevent it and go off_. ACT V. SCENE I. _A Council-Table: The_ King of Scythia _seated on a Throne, Officers, Attendants, Guards_. _King_. Bring the fair Prisoner forth, and let’s examine What Reasons could inspire her with this Cruelty; --How beautiful she is! [_Gazes on her_. _Enter_ Cleomena _in Fetters_, Lysander, _with Guards_.