To a longe daungerd seaman in a storme,
Suche as up on _Aeneas_ straglinge fleete
At _Juno's_ will by _Aeolus_ was raysd
When in his flyght from horror he sawe more
Then _Troy_ affoarded; for the newese I brynge
Is vyctorie, which crownes the crownes of kynges.

_Char_. Cossen _Reinaldo_, if youle sytt and prayse
The fayre eies of my fayre love, I will heare
Tyll you be tyerd with talkinge.

_Rei_. What is this?
Is this the voyce of mightie _Charlimayne_?
Sir, from your worthye nephewe I am come,
The ever feard _Orlando_, who in _Spayne_
Hath with hys owne fame mixt your happynes
By a blest vyctorye.

_Char_. We have no leasure
To heare, nor are we able to contayne
Another happynes, nor is theire other.
Successe in warre is but a pleasynge dreame
From whence a drume may fryght us. Here doth rest
My happynes which cannot be exprest.

[_Ex. Cha., The., Gab., and attendants_.

_Tur_. Pryncely _Reinaldo_, doe not let amaze
Strugle within you; you but yet survay
The out syde of our wonder.