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This was the goodness of thy care and cunning.

[Loud music. Whence comes this noise ? Rhe, i

The prince, my lord, in person.


MENAPHON, CORAX, THAMASTA, with KALA. Pal. Ye shall not knee to us; rise all, I charge ye.

[They rise. Father, you wrong your age; henceforth my arms

[Embracing MELEANDER.
And heart shall be your guard : we have o’erheard
All passages of your united loves.
Be young again, Meleander ; live to number
A happy generation, and die old
In comforts as in years! The offices
And honours which I late on thee conferred
Are not fantastic bounties, but thy merit :
Enjoy them liberally.

My tears must thank ye,
For my tongue cannot.

I have kept my promise,
And given you a sure cordial.

0, a rare one! Pal. Good man, we both have shared enough of sad.

Though thine has tasted deeper of the extreme:
Let us forget it henceforth. Where's the picture
I sent ye? Keep it; 'tis a counterfeit;
And, in exchange of that, I seize on this,

[Takes EROCLEA by the hanc..
The real substance. With this other hand
I give away, before her father's face,
His younger joy, Cleophila, to thee,
Cousin Amethus: take her, and be to her

lie. Music, in which sense the word was occasionally used.

More than a father, a deserving husband.
Thus robbed of both thy children in a minute,
Thy cares are taken off.

My brains are dulled ;
I am entranced, and know not what you mean.
Great, gracious sir, alas, why do you mock me?
I am a weak old man, so poor and feeble,
That my untoward joints can scarcely creep
Unto the grave, where I must seek my rest.

Pal. Eroclea was, you know, contracted mine ;
Cleophila my cousin's, by consent
Of both their hearts; we both now claim our own:
It only rests in you to give a blessing,
For confirmation.

Sir, 'tis truth and justice.
Mel. The gods, that lent ye to me, bless your vows !
O, children, children, pay your prayers to Heaven,
For they have showed much mercy.-But, Sophronos,
Thou art my brother-I can say no more-
A good, good brother!

Leave the rest to time.--Cousin Thamasta, I must give you too.She's thy wife, Menaphon.-Rhetias, for thee, And Corax, I have more than common thanks.On to the temple ! there all solemn rites Performed, a general feast shall be proclaimed. The Lover's MELANCHOLY hath found cure; Sorrows are changed to bride-songs. So they thrive Whom fate in spite of storms hath kept alive. [Exeunt.

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