_Alvi._ And here would Alvida resign her charge; For were I but in thought th' Assyrian king, I needs must 'quite thy tears with kisses sweet, And crave a pardon with a friendly touch: You know it, madam, though I teach it not, The touch I mean, you smile whenas you think it. _Remil._ How am I pleas'd to hear thy pretty prate, According to the humour of my mind! Ah, nymphs, who fairer than Remilia? The gentle winds have woo'd me with their sighs, The frowning air hath clear'd when I did smile; And when I trac'd upon the tender grass, Love, that makes warm the centre of the earth, Lift up his crest to kiss Remilia's foot; Juno still entertains her amorous Jove With new delights, for fear he look on me; The phœnix' feathers are become my fan, For I am beauty's phœnix in this world. Shut close these curtains straight, and shadow me, For fear Apollo spy me in his walks, And scorn all eyes, to see Remilia's eyes. Nymphs, eunuchs, sing, for Mavors draweth nigh: Hide me in closure, let him long to look: For were a goddess fairer than am I, I'll scale the heavens to pull her from the place. [_They draw the curtains, and music plays._ _Alvi._ Believe me, though she say that she is fairest, I think my penny silver by her leave. _Enter_ RASNI _and_ RADAGON, _with_ Lords _in pomp, who make a ward about_ RASNI; _with them the_ Magi _in great pomp._ _Rasni._ Magi, for love of Rasni, by your art, By magic frame an arbour out of hand, For fair Remilia to disport her in. Meanwhile, I will bethink me on further pomp. [_Exit._ [_The_ Magi _with their rods beat the ground, and from under the same rises a brave arbour;_[75] RASNI _returns in another suit, while the trumpets sound._ _Rasni._ Blest be ye, men of art, that grace me thus, And blessèd be this day where Hymen hies To join in union pride of heaven and earth! [_Lightning and thunder, wherewith_ REMILIA _is strucken._ What wondrous threatening noise is this I hear? What flashing lightnings trouble our delights? When I draw near Remilia's royal tent, I waking dream of sorrow and mishap. _Radag._ Dread not, O king, at ordinary chance; These are but common exhalations, Drawn from the earth, in substance hot and dry, Or moist and thick, or meteors combust, Matters and causes incident to time, Enkindled in the fiery region first. Tut, be not now a Roman augurer: Approach the tent, look on Remilia.