SIMONIDES.
Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?
FIRST LORD.
They are, my liege;
And stay your coming to present themselves.
SIMONIDES.
Return them, we are ready; and our daughter,
In honour of whose birth these triumphs are,
Sits here, like beauty’s child, whom Nature gat
For men to see, and seeing wonder at.
[Exit a Lord.]
THAISA.
It pleaseth you, my royal father, to express
My commendations great, whose merit’s less.
SIMONIDES.
It’s fit it should be so; for princes are
A model, which heaven makes like to itself:
As jewels lose their glory if neglected,
So princes their renowns if not respected.
’Tis now your honour, daughter, to entertain
The labour of each knight in his device.
THAISA.
Which, to preserve mine honour, I’ll perform.
The first Knight passes by, and his Squire presents his shield to Thaisa.
SIMONIDES.
Who is the first that doth prefer himself?
THAISA.
A knight of Sparta, my renowned father;
And the device he bears upon his shield
Is a black Ethiope reaching at the sun:
The word, Lux tua vita mihi.