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Forgett'st thou that I sent a shower of darts,

Mingled with powder'd shot and feather'd steel,

So thick upon the blink-ey'd burghers' heads,

That thou thyself, then County Palatine,

The King of Boheme, 18 and the Austric Duke,

Sent heralds out, which basely on their knees,

In all your names, desir'd a truce of me?

Forgett'st thou that, to have me raise my siege,

Waggons of gold were set before my tent,

Stampt with the princely fowl that in her wings

Carries the fearful thunderbolts of Jove?

How canst thou think of this, and offer war?

SIGISMUND. Vienna was besieg'd, and I was there,

Then County Palatine, but now a king,

And what we did was in extremity

But now, Orcanes, view my royal host,

That hides these plains, and seems as vast and wide

As doth the desert of Arabia

To those that stand on Bagdet's 19 lofty tower,

Or as the ocean to the traveller

That rests upon the snowy Appenines;

And tell me whether I should stoop so low,

Or treat of peace with the Natolian king.