_Ang._ O no, my lord, but pardon my amiss; For had not Orlando lov'd Angelica, Ne'er had my lord fall'n into these extremes, Which we will parley private to ourselves. Ne'er was the Queen of Cyprus half so glad As is Angelica to see her lord, Her dear Orlando, settled in his sense.
_Orl._ Thanks, my sweet love.-- But why stand the Prince of Africa, And Mandricard the King of Mexico, So deep in dumps, when all rejoice beside? First know, my lord, I slaughter'd Sacripant; I am the man that did the slave to death; Who frankly there did make confession, That he engrav'd the roundelays on the trees, And hung the schedules of poor Medor's love, Intending by suspect to breed debate Deeply 'twixt me and fair Angelica: His hope had hap, but we had all the harm; And now revenge, leaping from out the seat Of him that may command stern Nemesis, Hath pour'd those treasons justly on his head. What saith my gracious lord to this?
_Mars._ I stand amaz'd, deep over-drench'd with joy, To hear and see this unexpected end: So well I rest content.--Ye peers of France, Sith it is prov'd Angelica is clear, Her and my crown I freely will bestow Upon Orlando, the County Palatine.
_Orl._ Thanks my good lord.--And now, my friends of France, Frolic, be merry; we will hasten home, So soon as King Marsilius will consent To let his daughter wend with us to France. Meanwhile we'll richly rig up all our fleet More brave[171] than was that gallant Grecian keel That brought away the Colchian fleece of gold: Our sails of sendal[172] spread into the wind; Our ropes and tacklings all of finest silk, Fetch'd from the native looms of labouring worms, The pride of Barbary, and the glorious wealth That is transported by the western bounds; Our stems cut out of gleaming ivory; Our planks and sides fram'd out of cypress-wood, That bears the name of Cyparissus' change, To burst the billows of the ocean-sea, Where Phœbus dips his amber tresses oft, And kisses Thetis in the day's decline; That Neptune proud shall call his Tritons forth To cover all the ocean with a calm: So rich shall be the rubbish of our barks, Ta'en here for ballass to the ports of France, That Charles himself shall wonder at the sight. Thus, lordings, when our banquetings be done, And Orlando espousèd to Angelica, We'll furrow through the moving ocean, And cheerly frolic with great Charlemagne. [_Exeunt omnes._
