Amin. My gallant Maid! this Generosity, Above thy Sex, and much above my Merit, I never can repay: my dear Urania, Thou did’st outdo thy Sex before in Beauty, In all the Charms that make ‘em so ador’d: But this last Act, this noble Mark of Love, Begets a reverend Wonder in my Soul, And I behold thee as some sacred thing, That—this way should be worship’d— [Kneels, and kisses her Hand.

Ura. I’m glad you have so kind a Sense of that Which ev’ry Maid that lov’d like me wou’d do; What cou’d you less expect?—Ah, my Amintas, That fatal Night before our Wedding-day, Being alarm’d by the Enemy, And you were sent to try your Force with theirs, My Heart foretold your Fate; and that same Night, Whose darkness veiled my Blushes all alone, Drest like a Youth I hasted from the Court, And being well mounted, soon o’ertook the Army, When, all unknown, I got so near your Person, That in the Fight I had the Glory twice To serve you, when your Horses being kill’d, I still presented you with fresh, whose Riders Thy Valour had dismounted.

Amin. Oh Gods! wert thou that Boy, Whom oft I said, I thought was sent from Heaven, And beg’d t’ encounter when the Fight was ended?

Ura. The same, ‘twas all you’d time to say; for after that, Venturing too far, they took you Prisoner.

Amin. Oh, with what Shame I look upon your Bounty, Which all my Life’s too little to acknowledge; What follow’d then, my dearest fair Urania?

Ura. I gladly wou’d have been a Prisoner too, But I appear’d a poor dejected Boy, That was not worth their Fetters. —Then I resolv’d upon this last Adventure, To make my Application to the Princess, Knowing her noble Nature, To try (since mighty Ransoms were refus’d) What simple Love would do; and in my way I lighted on a Druid, who in’s Youth Had liv’d in Courts, but now retir’d to Shades, And is a little Monarch o’er his Flocks; To him I told my Story, who encourag’d me in my resolv’d design, And I so luckily have made an Interest In Cleomena’s Heart, These Chains she’as given me Freedom to dismiss, And you must only wear Love’s Fetters now: [She takes off his Chains. —Come, haste, Amintas, from this horrid Place, And be thy self again, appear in Arms. The Scythians are encampt within thy View, And e’er three Births of Day the Armies meet; Th’ Event of which, I at the Druid’. Cell Will wait; sending continual Vows to Heaven For thy dear Safety: there when the Fight is done, I wish to meet thee; —But now your Country and your King expect you, And I love Glory equal to Amintas.

Amin. But yet the generous Bounty of the Princess Obliges here, no less than Duty there; I know not how the Gods of War to move To grant me Victor, or the vanquish’d prove; My Heart to either is not well inclin’d, Since—vanquish’d I am lost, conquering unkind.

[Exeunt.