Phoe.  Grave Aramanthus, now I see thy face,
I call to minde how tedious a long space
Thou hast frequented these sad desarts here;
Thy time imployed in heedful minde I bear,
The patient sufferance of thy former wrong,
Thy poore estate and sharpe exile so long,
The honourable port thou bor’st some time
Till wrongd thou wast with undeserved crime
By them whom thou to honour didst advaunce: 
The memory of which thy heavy chaunce
Provokes my minde to take remorse on thee. 
Father, henceforth my clyent shalt thou bee
And passe the remnant of thy fleeting time
With Lawrell wreath among the Muses nine;
And, when thy age hath given place to fate,
Thou shalt exchange thy former mortall state
And after death a palme of fame shalt weare,
Amongst the rest that live in honor here. 
And, lastly, know that faire Eurymine,
Redeemed now from former miserie,
Thy daughter is, whom I for that intent
Did hide from thee in this thy banishment
That so she might the greater scourge sustaine
In putting Phoebus to so great a paine. 
But freely now enioy each others sight: 
No more Eurymine:  abandon quite
That borrowed name, as Atlanta she is calde.—­
And here’s the[128] woman, in her right shape instalde.

Asca.  Is then my Love deriv’de of noble race?

Phoe.  No more of that; but mutually imbrace.

Ara.  Lives my Atlanta whom the rough seas wave I thought had brought unto a timelesse grave?

Phoe.  Looke not so straunge; it is thy father’s voyce, And this thy Love; Atlanta, now rejoice.

Eu.  As in another world of greater blis
My daunted spirits doo stand amazde at this. 
So great a tyde of comfort overflowes
As what to say my faltering tongue scarse knowes,
But only this, vnperfect though it bee;—­
Immortall thankes, great Phoebus, unto thee.

Phoe.  Well, Lady, you are retransformed now, But I am sure you did repent your vow.

Eury.  Bright Lampe of glory, pardon my rashenesse past.

Phoe.  The penance was your owne though I did fast.

    Enter Phylander and Ioculo.

Asca.  Behold, deare Love, to make your ioyes abound, Yonder Phylander comes.

Io.  Oh, sir, well found; But most especially it glads my minde To see my mistresse restorde to kinde.

Phy.  My Lord & Madame, to requite your pain, Telemachus hath sent for you againe:  All former quarrels now are trodden doune, And he doth smile that heretofore did frowne.

Asca.  Thankes, kinde Phylander, for thy friendly newes, Like Junos balme that our lifes blood renewes.

Phoe.  But, Lady, first ere you your iourney take, Vouchsafe at my request one grant to make.