From her free bounties; ſhe inſpir'd me with
|That vallour, which I dare not call mine owne:||60|
Shee from the magazine of her proper goodneſſe,
Stock'd me with vertuous purpoſes; ſent me forth
|To trade for honour; and ſhe being the owner||65|
And howſoeuer others thinke me happy,
And cry aloud, I haue made a proſperous voyage:
|One ſrowne of her diſlike at my returne,||70|
Timagoras. Tuſh, theſe feares are needleſſe,
Shee cannot, muſt not, ſhall not be fo cruell.
A free confeſſion of a fault winnes pardon;
|But being ſeconded by deſert, commands it.||75|
Euer your creature, one day ſhall be happy
In your triumph, and your Mariage.
Leoſthenes. May it proue ſo,
With her conſent, and pardon.
|Timagoras. Euer touching||80|
Without diſturbance feaze on what's your due.
Piſander. She has her health then:
Timandra. Yes, Sir, and as often
As I ſpeake of you, lends attentiue eare
To all that I deliuer; nor feemes tyr'de,
Though I dwell long on the relation of
Your ſuffrings for her, heaping praife on praife, 5
On your vnequal'd temperance, and command,