Act 5. Scen. 1.
Aberden, Arenimia.
Aber.
THe north and south both Poles do not contain
The very thoughts of this our great Lands joyes,
A Conqueror by popular grace;
I raign with reverent voyce among my flock,
Revenge will not spring up by angers dew,
Or shew its muddy face by foul conspiracy;
Fortune is prosperous, spurning gods of Love
To dress our Land with crown of Trophies, Gold,
Repulsing Legions of Furies that spend
Their breathing hours nought but to wrack and ruin:
All Lands implore my aid, drooping their head,
Till hope doth blow the fire of better days,
Sharp empty titles they make fame of them,
While we with hostile voyce crack Thunder-bolts;
And 'twas Hollarro's valour stated it,
Which is a captive to fond Cupids bolt,
Planting female Cannons charg'd with love,
Whose shot is fear, and powder jealousy,
Turning this Land to the Antipodes.
Lerenica hath a stronger arm then he,
And by her sweet-fac'd plots, which Tyrants turn,
Hath the pledges of his Princely brow;
But at the length he loves her so entire,
That he hath promis'd union to her shrine,
And marry her.