Cassilanes: 

      I am reveng’d, and thank you for it.

Erota: 

      Yes, and I:  Antlnous hath been gracious.

Antinous: 

      Sir, may I presume to crave a blessing from you
      Before we part?

Cassilanes: 

      Yes, such a one as Parents
      Bestow on cursed sons, now now, I laugh
      To see how those poor younglings are both cheated
      Of life and comfort:  look ye, look ye, Lords,
      I go but some ten minutes (more or less)
      Before my time, but they have finely cozen’d
      Themselves of many, many hopefull years
      Amidst their prime of youth and glory; now

      [Enter Annophel]

      My vengeance is made full.  Welcom my joy,
      Thou com’st to take a seasonable blessing
      From thy half buried Fathers hand; I am dead
      Already girle, and so is she and he,
      We all are worms-meat now.

Annophel: 

      I have heard all;
      Nor shall you dye alone:  Lords on my knees
      I beg for justice too.

Porphycio: 

      ’Gainst whom, for what?

Annophel: 

      First let me be resolv’d; does the Law favour
      None, be they ne’re so mighty?
294]

Porphycio: 

      Not the greatest.

Annophel: 

      Then justly I accuse of foul ingratitude
      My Lords, you of the Senate all, not one
      Excepted.

Possenne Porphycio: 

      Us?

Philander: 

      Annophel—­

Annophel: 

      You are the Authors
      Of this unthrifty bloud-shed; when your enemies
      Came marching to your gates, your children suck’d not
      Safe at their Mothers breasts, your very Cloysters
      Were not secure, your starting-holes of refuge
      Not free from danger, nor your lives your own: 
      In this most desperate Ecstasie, my Father,
      This aged man, not only undertook
      To guard your lives, but did so; and beat off
      The daring foe; for you he pawn’d his lands,
      To pay your Souldiers, who without their pay
      Refus’d to strike a blow:  but, Lords, when peace
      Was purchas’d for you, and victorie brought home,
      Where was your gratitude, who in your Coffers
      Hoarded the rustic treasure which was due
      To my unminded Father? he was glad
      To live retir’d in want, in penurie,
      Whilst you made feasts of surfeit, and forgot
      Your debts to him:  The sum of all is this,
      You have been unthankfull to him; and I crave
      The rigor of the Law against you all.

Cassilanes: 

      My Royal spirited daughter!

Erota: 

      Annophel
      Thou art a worthy wench; let me embrace thee.