_K. of Crete._ O my Lord, not sister to thy love! 'Tis incest and too foul a fact for kings; Nature allows no limits to such lust.
_Radag._ Presumptuous viceroy, dar'st thou check thy lord, Or twit him with the laws that nature loves? Is not great Rasni above nature's reach, God upon earth, and all his will is law?
_K. of Crete._ O, flatter not, for hateful is his choice, And sister's love will blemish all his worth.
_Radag._ Doth not the brightness of his majesty Shadow his deeds from being counted faults?
_Rasni._ Well hast thou answer'd with him, Radagon; I like thee for thy learnèd sophistry.-- But thou of Crete, that countercheck'st thy king, Pack hence in exile;--Radagon the crown!-- Be thou vicegerent of his royalty, And fail me not in what my thoughts may please, For from a beggar have I brought thee up, And grac'd thee with the honour of a crown.-- Ye quondam king, what, feed ye on delays?
_K. of Crete._ Better no king than viceroy under him, That hath no virtue to maintain his crown. [_Exit._
_Rasni._ Remilia, what fair dames be those that wait Attendant on thy matchless royalty?
_Remil._ 'Tis Alvida, the fair wife to the King of Paphlagonia.
_Rasni._ Trust me, she is a fair:--thou'st, Paphlagon, a jewel, To fold thee in so bright a sweeting's arms.
_Radag._ Why, then she is yours, my lord; for marriage Makes no exception, where Rasni doth command.
_K. of Paph._ Ill dost thou counsel him to fancy wives.
_Radag._ Wife or not wife, whatso he likes is his.
_Rasni._ Well answer'd, Radagon; thou art for me: Feed thou mine humour, and be still a king.-- Lords, go in triumph of my happy loves, And, for to feast us after all our broils, Frolic and revel it in Nineveh. Whatso'er befitteth your conceited thoughts, Or good or ill, love or not love, my boys, In love, or what may satisfy your lust, Act it, my lords, for no man dare say no. _Divisum imperium cum Jove nunc teneo._ [_Exeunt._
_Enter, brought in by an_ Angel, OSEAS, _the Prophet, and let down over the stage in a throne._
_Angel._ Amaze not, man of God, if in the spirit Thou'rt brought from Jewry unto Nineveh; So was Elias wrapt within a storm, And set upon Mount Carmel by the Lord: For thou hast preach'd long to the stubborn Jews, Whose flinty hearts have felt no sweet remorse, But lightly valuing all the threats of God, Have still perséver'd in their wickedness. Lo, I have brought thee unto Nineveh, The rich and royal city of the world, Pamper'd in wealth, and overgrown with pride, As Sodom and Gomorrah full of sin. The Lord looks down, and cannot see one good, Not one that covets to obey His will; But wicked all, from cradle to the crutch. Note, then, Oseas, all their grievous sins, And see the wrath of God that pays revenge; And when the ripeness of their sin is full, And thou hast written all their wicked thoughts, I'll carry thee to Jewry back again, And seat thee in the great Jerusalem; There shalt thou publish in her open streets That God sends down His hateful wrath for sin On such as never heard His prophets speak: Much more will He inflict a world of plagues On such as hear the sweetness of His voice, And yet obey not what His prophets speak. Sit thee, Oseas, pondering in the spirit The mightiness of these fond people's[63] sins.