brow desires;
A thronging Court to me is but a Cell;
These popular acclamations, which thus dance
I'th Aire, should passe by me as whistling windes
Playing with leaves of trees. I'me not ambitious
Of Titles glorious and maiesticall;
But what I doe is to save blood, save you;
I meane to be a husband for you all,
And fill you all with riches.

_Epi_. 'Tis that we thirst for;
For all our bagges are emptied in these warres
Rais'd by seditious Christians.

_Hub_. Peace, thou foole:
They are not bags of gold, that melts in fire,
Which I will fill your coffers with; my treasury
Are riches for your soules; my armes are spread
Like wings to protect Christians. What have you done?
Proclaim'd a Christian King; and Christian Kings
Should not be bloody.

_Omnes_. How? turn'd Christian?

_Eugen_. O blest King! happy day!

_Omnes_. Must we forsake our Gods then?

_Hub_. Violent streames
Must not bee stopt by violence; there's an art
To meete and put by the most boysterous wave;
'Tis now no policy for you to murmure
Nor will I threaten. A great counsell by you
Shall straight be cal'd to set this frame in order
Of this great state.

_Omnes_. To that we all are willing.

_Hub_. Are you then willing this noble maid
Shall be my Queene?

_Omnes_. With all our hearts.

_Hub_. By no hand but by thine will we be crown'd:
Come, my _Bellina_.

_Bellina_. Your vow is past to me that I should ever
Preserve my virgin honour, that you would never
Tempt me unto your bed.

_Hub_. That vow I keepe:
I vow'd so long as my knees bow'd to _Iove_
To let you be your selfe; but, excellent Lady,
I now am seal'd a Christian as you are:
And you have sworne oft that, when upon my forehead
That glorious starre was stucke, you would be mine
In holy wedlocke. Come, sweete, you and I
Shall from our loynes produce a race of Kings,
And ploughing up false gods set up one true;
Christians unborne crowning both me and you
With praise as now with gold.

_Bellina_. A fortunate day;
A great power prompts me on and I obey.

(_Flourish_)

_Omnes_. Long live _Hubert_ and _Bellina_, King and Queene
Of Goths and Vandals.

_Hub_. Two royall Iewels you give me, this and this:
Father, your hand is lucky, I am covetous
Of one Gift more: After your sacred way
Make you this Queene a wife: our Coronation
Is turn'd into a bridall.

_Omnes_. All ioy and happinesse.

_Hub_. To guard your lives will I lay out mine owne,
A