SULTAN

That when Prince Menelaus with all his mates, Had ten years held their siege in Asia, Folding their wroths in cinders of fair Troy: Yet for their arms grew by conceit of love, Their Trophies was but conquest of a girl: Then trust me Lords I'll never manage arms, For women's loves that are so quickly lost. Who is that troubles our sleeps? Frenchman between half sleeping & awake Although the mystie vail strained over Cynthia, Hinders my sighed from nothing all thy crew: Yet for I know thee and thy straggling grooms Can in conceit built Castles in the Sky: But in your actions Like the stammering Greek, Which breathes his courage bootless in the air. I wish thee well Orlando: get thee gone, Say that a Centynell did suffer thee: For if the Round or Court of Guard should hear Thou or thy men were braying at the walls, Charles wealth the wealth of all his Western mines, Found in the mountains of Transalpine France, Might not pay ransom to the King for thee. 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 Horyzon: Egypt is mine and there I hold my State, Seated in Cairye and in Babylon; From thence the matchless beauty of Angelica, Whose hew as bright as are those silver Doves, That wanton Venus manth upon her fist, Forced me to cross and cut th'atlanticke Seas, To oversearch the fearful Ocean, Where I arrived to eternise with my Lance, The matchless beauty of fair Angelica. Nor Tilt, nor Tournay, but my Spear and shield, Resounding on their Crests and sturdy Helms Topped high with Plumes, Like Mars his Burgonet, Inchasing on their Curats 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. He says my Lord that he is servant unto Mandricard.