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E're-long to th' Gates they came, from Coach descended,
Where stood the Duke with larger Train attended;
Who strait advanc'd, Salutes with high Regard
Orsamnes first, whose Welcome there declar'd.
Then falls upon Clermanthe's Neck, bestow'd
Kind Father's Kiss, Imbrace, till Joy o're-flow'd
In melting Tears; which were Repay'd agen;
Told her; She should Succed her Mother then,
Prime Mistress of that House, to th' height esteem'd:
For which her thanks not least Defective seem'd;

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Eyes cast to Heav'n; from Death restot'd; as 'twere,
Borganes Rape, conjoyn'd Sad Thraldome there.
Th' Old Servants then came near to Kiss her Hand;
Who, Free'd from that Gondace's Slavish Band,
Young Lady view'd, did fall to downright Crying;
Loud Welcome that, their want of Words supplying.