SCENE I.--_Camp of_ ALPHONSUS, _near Naples.

_Enter one, carrying two crowns upon a crest;_ ALPHONSUS, ALBINIUS, LÆLIUS, _and_ MILES, _with their_ Soldiers.

_Alphon._ Welcome, brave youths of Arragon, to me, Yea, welcome, Miles, Lælius, and the rest, Whose prowess alone hath been the only cause That we, like victors, have subdu'd our foes. Lord, what a pleasure was it to my mind, To see Belinus, which not long before Did with his threatenings terrify the gods, Now scud apace from warlike Lælius' blows. The Duke of Milan, he increas'd our sport, Who doubting that his force was over-weak For to withstand, Miles, thy sturdy arm, Did give more credence to his frisking skips Than to the sharpness of his cutting blade. What Fabius did to pleasure us withal, Albinius knows as well as I myself; For, well I wot, if that thy tirèd steed Had been as fresh and swift in foot as his, He should have felt, yea, known for certainty, To check Alphonsus did deserve to die. Briefly, my friends and fellow-peers in arms, The worst of you deserve such mickle praise, As that my tongue denies for to set forth The demi-parcel of your valiant deeds; So that, perforce, I must by duty be Bound to you all for this your courtesy.

_Miles._ Not so, my lord; for if our willing arms Have pleasur'd you so much as you do say, We have done naught but that becometh us, For to defend our mighty sovereign. As for my part, I count my labour small, Yea, though it had been twice as much again, Since that Alphonsus doth accept thereof.

_Alphon._ Thanks, worthy Miles: lest all the world Should count Alphonsus thankless for to be, Lælius, sit down, and, Miles, sit by him, And that receive the which your swords have won. [LÆLIUS _and_ MILES _sit down._ First, for because thou, Lælius, in these broils, By martial might, didst proud Belinus chase From troop to troop, from side to side about, And never ceas'd from this thy swift pursuit Until thou hadst obtain'd his royal crown, Therefore, I say, I'll do thee naught but right, And give thee that which thou well hast won. [_Sets the crown on his head._ Here doth Alphonsus crown thee, Lælius, King Of Naples' town, with all dominions That erst belongèd to our traitorous foe, That proud Belinus, in his regiment. [_Trumpets and drums sounded._ Miles, thy share the Milan Dukedom is, For, well I wot, thy sword deserv'd no less; [_Sets the crown on his head._ The which Alphonsus frankly giveth thee, In presence of his warlike men-at-arms; And if that any stomach[43] this my deed, Alphonsus can revenge thy wrong with speed. [_Trumpets and drums sounded._ Now to Albinius, which in all my toils I have both faithful, yea, and friendly, found: Since that the gods and friendly fates assign This present time to me to recompense The sundry pleasures thou hast done to me, Sit down by them, and on thy faithful head [_Takes the crown from his own head._ Receive the crown of peerless Arragon.

_Albi._ Pardon, dear lord, Albinius at this time; It ill becomes me for to wear a crown Whenas my lord is destitute himself. Why, high Alphonsus, if I should receive This crown of you, the which high Jove forbid, Where would yourself obtain a diadem? Naples is gone, Milan possessèd is, And naught is left for you but Arragon.

_Alphon._ And naught is left for me but Arragon! Yes, surely, yes, my fates have so decreed, That Arragon should be too base a thing For to obtain Alphonsus for her king. What, hear you not how that our scatter'd foes, Belinus, Fabius, and the Milan duke, Are fled for succour to the Turkish court? And think you not that Amurack their king, Will, with the mightiest power of all his land, Seek to revenge Belinus' overthrow? Then doubt I not but, ere these broils do end, Alphonsus shall possess the diadem That Amurack now wears upon his head. Sit down therefóre, and that receive of me The which the fates appointed unto thee.

_Albi._ Thou King of Heaven, which by Thy power divine Dost see the secrets of each liver's heart, Bear record now with what unwilling mind I do receive the crown of Arragon. [ALBINIUS _sits down by_ LÆLIUS _and_ MILES; ALPHONSUS _sets the crown on his head._

_Alphon._ Arise, Albinius, King of Arragon, Crownèd by me, who, till my gasping ghost Do part asunder from my breathless corpse, Will be thy shield against all men alive That for thy kingdom any way do strive. [_Trumpets and drums sounded._ Now since we have, in such an happy hour, Confirm'd three kings, come, let us march with speed Into the city, for to celebrate With mirth and joy this blissful festival. [_Exeunt._