15.
“O King (quoth I) the gods preserue thy grace,
The heauens requite thy mercy shew’d to me,
And all the starres direct thy regall race,
With[273] happy course, long length of yeares to see.
The earth with fertile fruites enrich so thee,
That thou maist still like Justice here dispose,
And euermore treade downe thy deadly foes.”
16.
The noble King commaunded to vnbinde