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Org.

That you will promise

Never to pass to any man, however

Worthy, your faith, till, with our father's leave,

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Euphranea's oath must yield me satisfaction.

Euph. By Vesta's sacred fires I swear.
Crot.

By great Apollo's beams, join in the vow,
Not without thy allowance to bestow her

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And I,

Mistake me not: far, far 'tis from my thought,
As far from any wish of mine, to hinder
Preferment to an honourable bed

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Or fitting fortune; thou art young and handsome;
And 'twere injustice,-more, a tyranny,-
Not to advance thy merit: trust me, sister,
It shall be my first care to see thee matched
As may become thy choice and our contents.
I have your oath.

Euph.

You have. But mean you, brother,

To leave us, as you say?

Crot.

Ay, ay, Euphranea : III

He has just grounds direct him. I will prove

A father and a brother to thee.

Euph.

Heaven

Does look into the secrets of all hearts:

Gods, you have mercy with ye, else—

Crot.

Doubt nothing; 115

Thy brother will return in safety to us.

Org. Souls sunk in sorrows never are without 'em; They change fresh airs, but bear their griefs about 'em. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Room in the Palace.

Flourish. Enter AMYCLAS, ARMOSTES, PROPHILUS, Courtiers, and Attendants.

Amy. The Spartan gods are gracious; our humility Shall bend before their altars, and perfume

Their temples with abundant sacrifice.
See, lords, Amyclas, your old king, is entering
Into his youth again! I shall shake off
This silver badge of age, and change this snow
For hairs as gay as are Apollo's locks;
Our heart leaps in new vigour.

Arm.

May old time

Run back to double your long life, great sir!

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I I

Amy. It will, it must, Armostes: thy bold nephew,
Death-braving Ithocles, brings to our gates
Triumphs and peace upon his conquering sword.
Laconia is a monarchy at length;

Hath in this latter war trod under foot
Messene's pride; Messene bows her neck
To Lacedæmon's royalty. O, 'twas
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.

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At Pephon, 20

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.

Amy. When comes your friend the general?
Pro.

To follow with all speed convenient.

He promised

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

Amy. Our daughter!-Dear Calantha, the happy

news,

The conquest of Messene, hath already

Enriched thy knowledge.

Cal.

With the circumstance

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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,

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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 'em to comparison with heaven :
But Ithocles-

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Cal.

Pro.

Your friend

He is so, madam,

In which the period of my fate consists :

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He, in this firmament of honour, stands
Like a star fixed, not moved with any thunder
Of popular applause or sudden lightning
Of self-opinion; he hath served his country,
And thinks 'twas but his duty.

Crot.

A miracle of man.

Amy.

You describe

Such, Crotolon,

On forfeit of a king's word, thou wilt find him.—

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[Flourish. 50

Hark, warning of his coming! all attend him.

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

Return into these arms, thy home, thy sanctuary,

Delight of Sparta, treasure of my bosom,

Mine own, own Ithocles!

1th.

Arm.

Your humblest subject.

Proud of the blood I claim an interest in,

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Sir, your love's too partial.

As brother to thy mother, I embrace thee,

Right noble nephew.

Ith.

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.

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Cal. Christalla, Philema, the chaplet. [Takes the

chaplet from them.]—Ithocles,

Upon the wings of fame the singular

And chosen fortune of an high attempt

Is borne so past the view of common sight,

That I myself with mine own hands have wrought, 65 To crown thy temples, this provincial garland:

Accept, wear, and enjoy it as our gift

Deserved, not purchased.

Ith.

Amy. She is in all our daughter.

Ith.

You're a royal maid.

Let me blush,

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Acknowledging how poorly I have served,

What nothings I have done, compared with the

honours

Heaped 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.

Ith.

He speaks truth.

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Whom heaven

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Is 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 85 As his whose much more delicate condition

Hath sucked the milk of ease; judgment commands, But resolution executes.

I use not,

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