_Alcip_. Your pardon, Sir; I never had a thought That could be guilty of so great a Sin. That I was capable to do you service, Was the most grateful Bounty Heaven allow’d me, And I no juster way could own that Blessing, Than to imploy the Gift for your repose. _King_. I shall grow angry, and believe your Pride Would put the guilt off on your Modesty, Which would refuse what that believes below it. _Phil_. Your Majesty thinks too severely of him; Permit me, Sir, to recompense his Valour, I saw the wonders on’t, and thence may guess In some Degree, what may be worthy of it. _King_. I like it well, and till thou hast perform’d it, I will divest my self of all my Power, And give it thee, till thou hast made him great. _Phil_. I humbly thank you, Sir-- [_Bows to the_ King, _takes the Staff from_ Orgulius, _and gives it to_ Alcippus, _who looks amazedly_. And here I do create him General. You seem to wonder, as if I dispossess’d The brave _Orgulius_; but be pleas’d to know, Such Reverence and Respect I owe that Lord, As had himself not made it his Petition, I sooner should have parted with my Right, Than have discharg’d my debt by injuring him. _King_. _Orgulius_, are you willing to resign it? _Org_. With your permission, Sir, most willingly; His vigorous Youth is fitter for’t than Age, Which now has render’d me uncapable Of what that can with more success perform. My Heart and Wishes are the same they were, But Time has quite depriv’d me of that power That should assist a happy Conqueror. _King_. Yet Time has added little to your years, Since I restor’d you to this great Command, And then you thought it not unfit for you. _Org_. Sir, was it fit I should refuse your Grace? That was your act of Mercy: and I took it To clear my Innocence, and reform the Errors Which those receiv’d who did believe me guilty, Or that my Crimes were greater than that Mercy. I took it, Sir, in scorn of those that hated me, And now resign it to the Man you love. _King_. We need not this proof to confirm thy Loyalty; Nor am I yet so barren of Rewards, But I can find a way, without depriving Thy noble Head of its victorious Wreaths, To crown another’s Temples. _Org_. I humbly beg your Majesty’s consent to’t, If you believe _Alcippus_ worthy of it; The generous Youth I have bred up to Battles, Taught him to overcome, and use that Conquest As modestly as his submissive Captive, His Melancholy, (but his easy Fetters) To meet Death’s Horrors with undaunted looks: How to despise the Hardships of a Siege; To suffer Cold and Hunger, want of Sleep. Nor knew he other rest than on his Horse-back, Where he would sit and take a hearty Nap; And then too dreamt of fighting. I could continue on a day in telling The Wonders of this Warrior. _King_. I credit all, and do submit to you. But yet _Alcippus_ seems displeas’d with it.