The Actors Names.

Genzerick, King of the Vandals.
Anthonio  |
Damianus  |  3 Noble men.
Cosmo     |
Hubert, A brave Commander.
Henerick, the Prince.
Bellizarius, the Generall.
Eugenius, a Christian Bishop.
Epidaurus, a Lord.
2 Physitians.
2 Pagans.
1 Camell-driver.
2 Camell-driver.
Victoria, Wife to Bellizarius.
Bellina, his Daughter. 
A Souldier.
2 Angels.
2 Christians tonguelesse. 
Clowne. 
Constable.
3 Watchmen.
3 Huntsmen.
3 Other Camell-drivers. 
Officers and Souldiers.

The Martyr’d Souldier.

Actus Primus.

SCAENA PRIMA.

    Enter Genzerick King of the Vandalls, sicke on his
    bed, Anthony, Damianus, Cosmo, and Lords.

King.  Away, leave off your golden Flatteries,
I know I cannot live, there’s one lies here
Brings me the newes; my glories and my greatnes
Are come to nothing.

Anth.  Be not your selfe the Bell To tolle you to the Grave; and the good Fates, For ought we see, may winde upon your bottome[132] A thred of excellent length.

Cosm.  We hope the Gods have not such rugged hands To snatch yee from us.

King. Cosmo, Damianus, and Anthony; you upon whom
The Vandall State doth leane, for my back’s too weake;
I tell you once agen that surly Monarch,
Who treads on all Kings throats, hath sent to me
His proud Embassadours:  I have given them Audience
Here in our Chamber Royall.  Nor could that move me,
To meete Death face to face, were my great worke
Once perfected in Affrick by my sonne;
I meane that generall sacrifice of Christians,
Whose blood would wash the Temples of our gods
And win them bow downe their immortall eyes
Upon our offerings.  Yet, I talke not idly,
Yet, Anthonie, I may; for sleepe, I think,
Is gone out of my kingdome, it is else fled
To th’poore; for sleepe oft takes the harder bed
And leaves the downy pillow of a King.

Cosm.  Try, Sir, if Musick can procure you[133] rest.

King. Cosmo, ’tis sinne to spend a thing so precious On him that cannot weare it.  No, no; no Musick; But if you needs will charme my o’re-watcht eyes, Now growne too monstrous for their lids to close, If you so long to fill these Musick-roomes With ravishing sounds indeed; unclaspe that booke, Turne o’re that Monument of Martyrdomes, Read there how Genzerick has serv’d the gods And made their Altars drunke with Christians blood, Whil’st their loath’d bodies flung in funerall piles Like Incense burnt in Pyramids of fire; And when their flesh and bones were all consum’d Their ashes up in whirle-winds flew i’th Ayre To show that of foure Elements not one had care Of them, dead or alive.  Read, Anthony.

Anth.  ’Tis swelld to a faire Volume.