_Rasni._ So pace ye on, triumphant warriors; Make Venus' leman,[56] arm'd in all his pomp, Bash at the brightness of your hardy looks; For you, the viceroys and the cavaliers, That wait on Rasni's royal mightiness:-- Boast, petty kings, and glory in your fates, That stars have made your fortunes climb so high, To give attend on Rasni's excellence. Am I not he that rules great Nineveh, Rounded with Lycus' silver-flowing streams? Whose city-large diametri contains, Even three days' journey's length from wall to wall; Two hundred gates carv'd out of burnish'd brass, As glorious as the portal of the sun; And, for to deck heaven's battlements with pride, Six hundred towers that topless touch the clouds. This city is the footstool of your king; A hundred lords do honour at my feet; My sceptre straineth both the parallels: And now t' enlarge the highness of my power I have made Judea's monarch flee the field, And beat proud Jeroboam from his holds, Winning from Cadiz to Samaria. Great Jewry's God, that foil'd stout Benhadad, Could not rebate[57] the strength that Rasni brought; For be he God in heaven, yet, viceroys, know, Rasni is god on earth, and none but he. _K. of Cil._ If lovely shape, feature by nature's skill Passing in beauty fair Endymion's, That Luna wrapt within her snowy breasts, Or that sweet boy that wrought bright Venus' bane, Transform'd unto a purple hyacinth; If beauty nonpareil in excellence, May make a king match with the gods in gree,[58] Rasni is god on earth, and none but he. _K. of Crete._ If martial looks, wrapt in a cloud of wars, More fierce than Mavors lighteneth from his eyes, Sparkling revenge and dire disparagement; If doughty deeds more haught than any done, Seal'd with the smile of fortune and of fate, Matchless to manage lance and curtle-axe; If such high actions, grac'd with victories, May make a king match with the gods in gree, Rasni is god on earth, and none but he. _K. of Paph._ If Pallas' wealth-- _Rasni._ Viceroys, enough; peace, Paphlagon, no more. See where's my sister, fair Remilia, Fairer than was the virgin Danaë That waits on Venus with a golden show; She that hath stol'n the wealth of Rasni's looks, And tied his thoughts within her lovely locks, She that is lov'd, and love unto your king, See where she comes to gratulate my fame. _Enter_ RADAGON, _with_ REMILIA, ALVIDA, _and_ Ladies, _bringing a globe seated on a ship._