Eugen. New tortures bring, They all to me are but a banquetting. [Exit.
Anton. But are you well, indeed, Sir?
King. Passing well: Though my Physitian fetcht the cure from hell; All's one, I am glad I have it.
[Exeunt.
Actus Quartus.
Enter Antony, Cosmo, Hubert, and Damianus.
Anton. You, noble Hubert, are the man[164] chosen out
From all our Vandal Leaders to be chiefe
O'er a new army, which the King will raise
To roote out from our land these Christians
That over-runne us.
Cosmo. 'Tis a glory, Hubert, Will raise your fame and make you like our gods, To please whom you must do this.
Dam. And in doing
Be active as the fire and mercilesse
As is the boundlesse Ocean when it swallows
Whole Townes and of them leaves no Monuments.
Hub. When shall mine eyes be happy in the sight Of this brave Pagentry?