_Mars._ Victorious princes, summon'd to appear Within the continent of Africa; From seven-fold Nilus to Taprobany, Where fair Apollo darting forth his light Plays on the seas; From Gades' Islands, where stout Hercules Emblaz'd his trophies on two posts of brass, To Tanais, whose swift declining floods Environ rich Europa to the north; All fetch'd from out your courts by beauty to this coast, To seek and sue for fair Angelica, Sith none but one must have this happy prize, At which you all have levell'd long your thoughts, Set each man forth his passions how he can, And let her censure[133] make the happiest man. _Sold._ The fairest flower that glories Africa, Whose beauty Phœbus dares not dash with showers, Over whose climate never hung a cloud, But smiling Titan lights the horizon,-- Egypt is mine, and there I hold my state, Seated in Cairo and in Babylon. From thence the matchless beauty of Angelica, Whose hue (as bright as are those silver doves That wanton Venus mann'th[134] upon her fist), Forc'd me to cross and cut th' Atlantic seas, To oversearch the fearful ocean, Where I arriv'd to etérnize with my lance The matchless beauty of fair Angelica; Nor tilt, nor tourney, but my spear and shield Resounding on their crests and sturdy helms, Topt high with plumes, like Mars his burgonet, Enchasing on their curats[135] with my blade, That none so fair as fair Angelica. But leaving these such glories as they be, I love, my lord; let that suffice for me. _Rod._ Cuba my seat, a region so enrich'd With savours sparkling from the smiling heavens, As those that seek for traffic to my coast Account it like that wealthy Paradise From whence floweth Gihon, and swift Euphrates:[136] The earth within her bowels hath enwrapt, As in the massy storehouse of the world, Millions of gold, as bright as was the shower That wanton Jove sent down to Danaë. Marching from thence to manage arms abroad, I pass'd the triple-parted regiment[137] That froward Saturn gave unto his sons, Erecting statues of my chivalry, Such and so brave as never Hercules Vow'd for the love of lovely Iole. But leaving these such glories as they be, I love, my lord; let that suffice for me.