Act 2 - Scene 3
The same. A hall of state: a banquet prepared.
Enter SIMONIDES, THAISA, Lords, Attendants, and Knights, from tilting
To say you're welcome were superfluous.
To place upon the volume of your deeds,
As in a title-
page, your worth in arms,
Were more than you expect, or more than's fit,
Since every worth in show commends
Prepare for mirth, for mirth becomes a feast:
You are princes and my guests.
But you, my knight and guest;
To whom this wreath of victory I give,
And crown you king of this day's
'Tis more by fortune, lady, than by merit.
Call it by what you will, the day is yours;
And here, I hope, is none that envies it.
In framing an artist, art
hath thus decreed,
To make some good, but others to exceed;
And you are her labour'd scholar. Come,
For, daughter, so you are, here take your place:
Marshal the rest, as they deserve their
We are honour'd much by good Simonides.
Your presence glads our days: honour we love;
For who hates honour hates the gods above.
Sir, yonder is your place.
Some other is more fit.
Contend not, sir; for we are gentlemen
That neither in our hearts nor outward eyes
Envy the great nor do
the low despise.
You are right courteous knights.
Sit, sir, sit.
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