SULTAN

Art thou that Fortunatus, whose great name, Being carried in the Chariot of the winds, Has sild the Courts of all our Asian Kings, With love and envy, whose dear presence ties The eyes of admiration to thine eyes? Art thou that Jove that in a shower of gold Appearedst before the Turkish Emperor? Where is that purse which threw abroad such treasure? Most welcome; and most happy are mine arms In circling such and earthly deity: But will not Fortunatus make me blessed By sighed of such a purse? Welcome, most welcome, to the Sultans court; Stay here, and be the King of Babylon, Stay here, and I will more amaze thine eyes With wondrous sights, then can all Asia. Behold you tower, there stands mine Armoury, In which are Corsiets forged of beaten gold, To arm ten hundred thousand fighting men, Whose glittering sqaudrons when the Sun beholds, They seem Like to ten hundred thousand Jove's, When Jove on the proud back of thunder rides, Trapped all in lightning flames: there can I show thee The ball of gold that set all Troy on fire; There shalt thou see the scarf of Cupid's mother, Snatched from the soft moist Ivory of her arm, To wrap about Adonis wounded thigh; There shalt thou see a wheel of Titan's care, Which dropped from heaven when Phaeton fired the world: I'll give Thee (if thou wilt) two silver Doves Composed by Magic to divide the air, Who (as they fly) shall play their silver wings, And give strange music to the Elements, I'll give Thee else the fan of Proserpine, Which in reward (for a sweet Thracian song,) The black-browd Empress three to Mopheus, Being come to fetch Eurydice from hell. Thine shall behold them, and make choice of any, So thou wilt give the Sultan such a purse. Leave us alone: never was mortal ear Acquainted with the virtue of a Jewel, Which now isle show, (out-valuing all the rest.) Behold this Casket,— Draw a Curtain. Fettered in golden chains, the Lock pure gold, The key of sollide gold, which my self keep, And heres the treasure thats contained in it. Takes out the Hat I'll not exchange this, for ten Diadems. On pain of death, none listen to our talk. Oh, yes, for none shall understand the worth Of this inestimable ornament, But you: and yet not you, but that you swear By her white hand, that lent you such a name, To leave a wondrous purse in Babylon. I ; if they do, they die. You see 'tis in show; did I want Jewels, Gold could beget them, but the wide world's wealth Buys not this Hat; this clapped upon my head, I (only with a wish) am through the air, Transported in a moment over Seas, And over lands to any secret place; By this I steal to every Princes court, And hear their private counsels and prevent All dangers which to Babylon are meant. By help of this I oft see armies join, Though when the dreadful Alvarado sounds, I am distant from the place a thousand leagues, O, had I such a purse and such a Hat, The Sultan were, of all, most fortunate. Dead, and the whole world Yields not a workman that can frame the Like. No, 'tis more light then any Hat beside: Your hand shall peise it. Fie, ya're deceived: try it upon your head, Stay, Fortunatus stay, I am undone. Treason, Lords, treason, get me wings, isle fly After this damned Traitor through the air. This Fortunatus, this fend wrongs your king. No gates no grates of Iron imprison him, Like a Magician breaks he through the clouds; Bearing my soul with him, for that Jewellgon, I am dead, and all is dross in Babylon. Fly after him, 'tis vain, on the winds wings, Heel ride through all the Courts of earthly kings. He die that troubles me: call me not king; For isle consume my life in sorrowing. Exeunt.