Amal. I? never!—­’Tis in vain:  I must despair in silence. [Aside.

Leon. You come, as I suspected then, to mock, At least observe, my griefs:  Take it not ill, That I must leave you. [Is going.

Amal. You must not go with these unjust opinions.  Command my life and fortunes:  you are wise; Think, and think well, what I can do to serve you.

Leon. I have but one thing in my thoughts and wishes: 
If, by your means, I can obtain the sight
Of my adored Palmyra; or, what’s harder,
One minute’s time, to tell her, I die hers—­ [She starts back.
I see I am not to expect it from you;
Nor could, indeed, with reason.

Amal. Name any other thing!  Is Amalthea So despicable, she can serve your wishes In this alone?

Leon. If I should ask of heaven, I have no other suit.

Amal. To show you, then, I can deny you nothing, Though ’tis more hard to me than any other, Yet I will do it for you.

Leon. Name quickly, name the means! speak, my good angel!

Amal. Be not so much o’erjoyed; for, if you are,
I’ll rather die than do’t.  This night the court
Will be in masquerade;
You shall attend on me; in that disguise
You may both see and speak to her,
If you dare venture it.

Leon. Yes; were a god her guardian, And bore in each hand thunder, I would venture.

Amal. Farewell, then; two hours hence I will expect you:—­ My heart’s so full, that I can stay no longer. [Exit.

Leon. Already it grows dusky:  I’ll prepare With haste for my disguise.  But who are these?

  Enter HERMOGENES and EUBULUS.

Her. ’Tis he; we need not fear to speak to him.

Eub. Leonidas?

Leon. Sure I have known that voice.

Her. You have some reason, sir:  ’tis Eubulus, Who bred you with the princess; and, departing, Bequeathed you to my care.

Leon. My foster-father! let my knees express My joys for your return! [Kneeling.

Eub. Rise, sir; you must not kneel.

Leon. E’er since you left me,
I have been wandering in a maze of fate,
Led by false fires of a fantastic glory,
And the vain lustre of imagined crowns. 
But, ah! why would you leave me? or how could you
Absent yourself so long?

Eub. I’ll give you a most just account of both: 
And something more I have to tell you, which
I know must cause your wonder; but this place,
Though almost hid in darkness, is not safe. 
Already I discern some coming towards us [Torches appear.
With lights, who may discover me.  Hermogenes,
Your lodgings are hard by, and much more private.