Messene's pride; Messene bows her neck
To Lacedæmon's royalty. O, 't was
A glorious victory, and doth deserve
More than a chronicle; a temple, lords,
A temple to the name of Ithocles.
Where didst thou leave him, Prophilus ?
Pro. At Pephon,

Most gracious sovereign: twenty of the noblest
Of the Messenians there attend your pleasure,
For such conditions as you shall

propose, In settling peace, and liberty of life.

Amyc. When comes your friend the general?
Pro. He promised

To follow with all speed convenient.

Enter CROTOLON, CALANTHA, EUPHRANEA, CHRISTALLA and PHILEMA with a garland.

Amyc. Our daughter! Dear Calantha, the happy

news,

The conquest of Messene, hath already
Enrich'd thy knowledge.

Cal. With the circumstance

And manner of the fight, related faithfully
By Prophilus himself-but, pray, sir, tell me,
How doth the youthful general demean
His actions in these fortunes?

Pro. Excellent princess,

Your own fair eyes may soon report a truth
Unto your judgment, with what moderation,
Calmness of nature, measure, bounds, and limits
Of thankfulness and joy, he doth digest
Such amplitude of his success, as would,
In others, moulded of a spirit less clear,
Advance them to comparison with heaven:
But Ithocles-

Cal. Your friend

Pro. He is so, madam,

In which the period of my fate consists-
He, in this firmament of honour, stands

Like a star fix'd, not mov'd with any thunder
Of popular applause, or sudden lightning
Of self-opinion; he hath serv'd his country,
And thinks 't was but his duty.
Crot. You describe

A miracle of man.

Amyc, Such, Crotolon,

[Flourish.

On forfeit of a king's word, thou wilt find him.
Hark, warning of his coming! all attend him.

Enter ITHOCLES, ushered in by the Lords, and followed by HEMOPHIL and GRONEAS.

Amyc. Return into these arms, thy home, thy sanctuary,

Delight of Sparta, treasure of my bosom,
Mine own, own Ithocles!

Ith. Your humblest subject.

Arm. Proud of the blood I claim an interest in, As brother to thy mother, I embrace thee, Right noble nephew.

Ith. Sir, your love's too partial.

Crot. Our country speaks by me, who by thy valour,

Wisdom, and service, shares in this great action;
Returning thee, in part of thy due merits,

A general welcome.

Ith. You exceed in bounty.

Cal. Christalla, Philema, the chaplet.-[Takes the chaplet from them.]-Ithocles,

Upon the wings of fame, the singular

And chosen fortune of a high attempt,
Is borne so past the view of common sight,
That I myself, with mine own hands, have wrought
To crown thy temples, this provincial' garland;

1 This provincial garland,] i. e. the wreath (of laurel) which she had prepared; and which the ancients conferred on those who, like Ithocles, had added a province to the empire. These honorary chaplets or crowns were, as every schoolboy knows, composed of plants, leaves, or flowers, according to the nature of the service rendered. Thus we have the provincial, the civic, the mural, the obsidional, and various other gar

Accept, wear, and enjoy it as our gift
Deserv'd, not purchased.

Ith. You are a royal maid.

Amyc. She is, in all, our daughter.
Ith. Let me blush,

Acknowledging how poorly I have serv'd,

What nothings I have done, compared with the honours

Heap'd on the issue of a willing mind;
In that lay mine ability, that only:
For who is he so sluggish from his birth,
So little worthy of a name or country,
That owes not out of gratitude for life
A debt of service, in what kind soever,
Safety, or counsel of the commonwealth
Requires, for payment?

Cal. He speaks truth.
Ith. Whom heaven

pleased to style victorious, there, to such,
Applause runs madding, like the drunken priests
In Bacchus' sacrifices, without reason,
Voicing the leader-on a demi-god;

Whenas, indeed, each common soldier's blood
Drops down as current coin in that hard purchase,
As his, whose much more delicate condition

Hath suck'd the milk of ease: judgment commands,
But resolution executes. I use not,

Before this royal presence, these fit slights,1
As in contempt of such as can direct;

My speech hath other end; not to attribute

All praise to one man's fortune, which is strengthen'd
By many hands: for instance, here is Prophilus,
A gentleman (I cannot flatter truth)

Of much desert; and, though in other rank,

lands, all woven of different materials, and all appropriate to their respective wearers, "deserv'd, not purchased."-GIFFORD.

1 These fit slights,] i. e. these trifling services, to which I have adapted the slight or humble language which becomes them. It is the modesty of Ithocles which speaks.-GIFFORD.

Both Hemophil and Groneas were not missing
To wish their country's peace; for, in a word,
All there did strive their best, and 't was our duty.
Amyc. Courtiers turn soldiers!-We vouchsafe
our hand; [HEM. and GRON. kiss his hand.
Observe your great example.

Hem. With all diligence.

Gron. Obsequiously and hourly.
Amyc. Some repose

After these toils is needful. We must think on
Conditions for the conquer'd; they expect them.
On!-Come, my Ithocles.

Euph. Sir, with your favour,

I need not a supporter.

Pro. Fate instructs me.

[Exit AMYC. attended; ITH. CAL. &c.-AS CHRIS. and PHIL. are following CAL. they are detained by HEM. and GRON.

Chris. With me?

Phil. Indeed I dare not stay.

Hem. Sweet lady,

Soldiers are blunt,-your lip.

Chris. Fy, this is rudeness;

You went not hence such creatures.

Gron. Spirit of valour

Is of a mounting nature.

Phil. It appears so.—

[Kisses her.

Pray [now], in earnest, how many men apiece

Have you two been the death of?

Gron. 'Faith, not many;

We were composed of mercy.

Hem. For our daring,

You heard the general's approbation

Before the king.

Chris. You" wish'd your country's peace;" That show'd your charity: where are your spoils, Such as the soldier fights for?

Phil. They are coming.

Chris. By the next carrier, are they not?
VOL. I.-13

Gron. Sweet Philema,

When I was in the thickest of mine enemies,
Slashing off one man's head, another's nose,
Another's arms and legs,-

Phil. And all together.

Gron. Then I would with a sigh remember thee, And cry, "dear Philema, 't is for thy sake

I do these deeds of wonder!"-dost not love me,
With all thy heart now?

Phil. Now, as heretofore.

I have not put my love to use: the principal
Will hardly yield an interest.

Gron. By Mars,

I'll marry thee!

Phil. By Vulcan, you're forsworn, Except my mind do alter strangely.

Gron. One word.

Chris. You lie beyond all modesty;-forbear me. Hem. I'll make thee mistress of a city, 't is Mine own by conquest.

Chris. By petition;-sue for 't

In forma pauperis.-"City ?" kennel.-Gallants!
Off with your feathers, put on aprons, gallants;
Learn to reel, thrum, or trim a lady's dog,
And be good quiet souls of peace, hobgoblins!
Hem. Christalla!

Chris. Practise to drill hogs, in hope

To share in the acorns.-Soldiers! corncutters,
But not so valiant; they ofttimes draw blood,
Which you durst never do. When you have prac-
tis'd

More wit, or more civility, we'll rank you
I' th' list of men; till then, brave things at arms,
Dare not to speak to us,-most potent Groneas!
Phil. And Hemophil the hardy-at your services.
[Exeunt CHRIS. and PHIL.
Gron. They scorn us as they did before we went.
Hem. Hang them, let us scorn them; and be
revenged.