2. Which is shee?
King. This creature; she has beauty to intice you And enough to feast you all; seize her all three And ravish her by turnes.
Slaves. A match.
[They dance antiquely, and Exeunt.
King. Hang up these slaves; I am mock't by her and them; They dance me into anger. Heard you not musicke?
Anton. Yes, sure, and most sweet melody.
Vict. 'Tis the heavens play And the Clowdes dance for ioy thy cruelty Has not tane hold upon me.
King. Hunger then shall:
Leade them away, dragge her to some loathed dungeon
And for three days give her no food.
Load her with Irons.
Epi. They shall.
Eugen. Come, fellow souldiers, halfe the fight is past: The bloodiest battell comes to an end at last.