_K. of Crete._ O, flatter not, for hateful is his choice, And sister's love will blemish all his worth. _Radag._ Doth not the brightness of his majesty Shadow his deeds from being counted faults? _Rasni._ Well hast thou answer'd with him, Radagon; I like thee for thy learnèd sophistry.-- But thou of Crete, that countercheck'st thy king, Pack hence in exile;--Radagon the crown!-- Be thou vicegerent of his royalty, And fail me not in what my thoughts may please, For from a beggar have I brought thee up, And grac'd thee with the honour of a crown.-- Ye quondam king, what, feed ye on delays? _K. of Crete._ Better no king than viceroy under him, That hath no virtue to maintain his crown. [_Exit._ _Rasni._ Remilia, what fair dames be those that wait Attendant on thy matchless royalty? _Remil._ 'Tis Alvida, the fair wife to the King of Paphlagonia. _Rasni._ Trust me, she is a fair:--thou'st, Paphlagon, a jewel, To fold thee in so bright a sweeting's arms. _Radag._ Like you her, my lord? _Rasni._ What if I do, Radagon? _Radag._ Why, then she is yours, my lord; for marriage Makes no exception, where Rasni doth command. _K. of Paph._ Ill dost thou counsel him to fancy wives. _Radag._ Wife or not wife, whatso he likes is his. _Rasni._ Well answer'd, Radagon; thou art for me: Feed thou mine humour, and be still a king.-- Lords, go in triumph of my happy loves, And, for to feast us after all our broils, Frolic and revel it in Nineveh. Whatso'er befitteth your conceited thoughts, Or good or ill, love or not love, my boys, In love, or what may satisfy your lust, Act it, my lords, for no man dare say no. _Divisum imperium cum Jove nunc teneo._ [_Exeunt._ SCENE II.--_A Public Place in Nineveh._ _Enter, brought in by an_ Angel, OSEAS, _the Prophet, and let down over the stage in a throne._