_Samia._ This cursèd Radagon. _Radag._ Dread monarch, this is but a lunacy, Which grief and want hath brought the woman to.-- What, doth this passion hold you every moon? _Samia._ O, politic in sin and wickedness, Too impudent for to delude thy prince!-- O Rasni, this same womb first brought him forth: This is his father, worn with care and age, This is his brother, poor unhappy lad, And I his mother, though contemn'd by him. With tedious toil we got our little good, And brought him up to school with mickle charge: Lord, how we joy'd to see his towardness! And to ourselves we oft in silence said, This youth when we are old may succour us. But now preferr'd, and lifted up by thee, We quite destroy'd by cursèd usury, He scorneth me, his father, and this child. _Cles._ He plays the serpent right, describ'd in Æsop's tale, That sought the foster's death, that lately gave him life. _Alc._ Nay, an please your majesty-ship, for proof he was my child, search the parish-book: the clerk will swear it, his godfathers and godmothers can witness it: it cost me forty pence in ale and cakes on the wives at his christening.--Hence, proud king! thou shalt never more have my blessing! _Rasni_ [_taking_ RADAGON _apart_]. Say sooth in secret, Radagon, Is this thy father? _Radag._ Mighty king, he is; I blushing tell it to your majesty. _Rasni._ Why dost thou, then, contemn him and his friends? _Radag._ Because he is a base and abject swain, My mother and her brat both beggarly, Unmeet to be allied unto a king. Should I, that look on Rasni's countenance, And march amidst his royal equipage, Embase myself to speak to such as they? 'Twere impious so to impair the love That mighty Rasni bears to Radagon. I would your grace would quit them from your sight, That dare presume to look on Jove's compare. _Rasni._ I like thy pride, I praise thy policy; Such should they be that wait upon my court: Let me alone to answer, Radagon.-- Villains, seditious traitors, as you be, That scandalise the honour of a king, Depart my court, you stales of impudence, Unless you would be parted from your limbs! Too base for to entitle fatherhood To Rasni's friend, to Rasni's favourite. _Radag._ Hence, begging scold! hence, caitiff clogg'd with years! On pain of death, revisit not the court. Was I conceiv'd by such a scurvy trull, Or brought to light by such a lump of dirt? Go, losel, trot it to the cart and spade! Thou art unmeet to look upon a king. Much less to be the father of a king. _Alc._ You may see, wife, what a goodly piece of work you have made: have I taught you arsmetry, as _additiori multiplicarum_, the rule of three, and all for the begetting of a boy, and to be banished for my labour? O pitiful hearing!--Come, Clesiphon, follow me.