 | Philodamus |  |
SCENE VI.
Enter ERATO, EPICRATES.Haste thee, my gentle daughter,
Upon a message thou'lt be glad to bear.
I would not hear thee, when thou wouldst have mov'd me
To listen to the sorrows of thy brother.
Himself I've heard. Fly to him, child, and tell him,
I love Euphemia little less than he does,
And long to give her to him. Haste, away.
Erato.
Oh, happy change! how I shall bless Philippus!
[Ex.
| Philodamus | |