No, no, my lord, it is not so; For this of prince they tell, For virtuous proof and princely facts Cyrus he doth excel; By that his grace by conquest great The Egyptians did convince; Of him report abroad doth pass, To be a worthy prince. KNIGHT. In person of Crœsus I answer make, We may not his grace compare, In whole respect for to be like, Cyrus the king’s father: In so much your grace hath yet no child, As Cyrus left behind, Even you I mean, Cambyses king, In whom I favour find. KING. Crœsus said well in saying so: But, Praxaspes, tell me why, That to my mouth in such a sort Thou should avouch a lie, Of drunkenness me thus to charge: But thou with speed shalt see, Whether that I a sober king Or else a drunkard be. I know thou hast a blissful babe, Wherein thou dost delight: Me to revenge of these thy words, I will go wreak this spite. When I the most have tasted wine, My bow it shall be bent, At heart of him even then to shoot Is now my whole intent: And if that I his heart can hit, The king no drunkard is; If heart of his I do not kill, I yield to thee in this. Therefore, Praxaspes, fetch to me Thy youngest son with speed; There is no way, I tell thee plain, But I will do this deed. PRAXASPES. Redoubted prince, spare my sweet child, He is mine only joy: I trust your grace to infant heart No such thing will employ. If that his mother hear of this, She is so nigh her flight, In clay her corpse will soon be shrin’d To pass from world’s delight. KING. No more ado, go fetch me him, It shall be as I say: And if that I do speak the word, How dare ye once say nay? PRAXASPES. I will go fetch him to your grace; But so, I trust, it shall not be. KING. For fear of my displeasure great, Go fetch him unto me. Is he gone? Now, by the gods, I will do as I say; My lord, therefore, fill me some wine, I heartily you pray; For I must drink to make my brain Somewhat intoxicate: When that the wine is in my head, O, trimly I can prate! LORD. Here is the cup with filled wine, Thereof to take repast. KING. Give it me to drink it off, And see no wine be waste: [_Drink._ Once again enlarge this cup, For I must it still taste:[240] [_Drink._ By the gods, I think, of pleasant wine I cannot take my fill. Now drink is in, give me my bow, And arrows from sir knight; At heart of child I mean to shoot, Hoping to cleave it right. KNIGHT.