A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 38

Delights to vexed spirits are as dates Set to a sickly man, which rather cloy than comfort: Let me entreat you to entreat no more.

RODERIGO. Let yon strings sleep; have done there.

[_Let the music cease_.

KING OF VALENTIA. Mirth to a soul disturb'd is[181] embers turn'd, Which sudden gleam with molestation, But sooner lose their sight for it.

'Tis gold bestow'd upon a rioter, Which not relieves, but murders him: 'Tis a drug given to the healthful, Which infects, not cures.

How can a father, that hath lost his son: A prince both wise, virtuous, and valiant, Take pleasure in the idle acts of time?

No, no; till Mucedorus I shall see again, All joy is comfortless, all pleasure pain.

ANSELMO. Your son, my lord, is well.

KING OF VALENTIA. I prythee, speak that thrice.

ANSELMO. The prince, your son, is safe.

KING OF VALENTIA. O, where, Anselmo? surfeit me with that.

ANSELMO. In Arragon, my liege; and at his 'parture, [He] bound my secrecy by his affection's love, Not to disclose it.

But care of him, and pity of your age, Makes my tongue blab what my breast vow'd-- Concealment.

KING OF VALENTIA. Thou not deceiv'st me? I ever thought thee What I find thee now, an upright, loyal man.

But what desire or young-fed humour, nurs'd Within the brain, drew him so privately To Arragon?

ANSELMO. A forcing adamant: Love, mix'd with fear and doubtful jealousy: Whether report gilded a worthless trunk, Or Amadine deserved her high extolment.

KING OF VALENTIA. See our provision be in readiness, Collect us followers of the comeliest hue, For our chief guardians; we will thither wend.

The crystal eyes of heaven shall not thrice wink, Nor the green flood six times his shoulders turn, Till we salute the Arragonian king.

Music, speak loudly; now the season's apt, For former dolors are in pleasure wrapt.

[_Exeunt omnes]

Enter_ MUCEDORUS, _to disguise himself_.

MUCEDORUS. Now, Mucedorus, whither wilt thou go?

Home to thy father to thy native soil, Or try some long abode within these woods?

Well, I will hence depart, and hie me home.

What, hie me home, said I? that may not be; In Amadine rests my felicity.

Then, Mucedorus, do as thou didst decree: Attire thee hermit-like within these groves; Walk often to the beech, and view the well; Make settles there, and seat thyself thereon; And when thou feelest thyself to be athirst, Then drink a hearty draught to Amadine.

No doubt, she thinks on thee, and will one day Come pledge thee at this well.

Come, habit, thou art fit for me. [_He disguiseth himself_.

No shepherd now: a hermit I must be.

Methinks this fits me very well.

Now must I learn to bear a walking-staff, And exercise some gravity withal.

_Enter the_ CLOWN.

CLOWN. Here's through the woods and through the woods, to look out a shepherd and stray king's daughter. But soft! who have we here? what art thou?

MUCEDORUS. I am an hermit.

CLOWN. An emmet? I never saw such a big emmet in all my life before.

MUCEDORUS. I tell you, sir, I am an hermit: one that leads a solitary life within these woods.

CLOWN. O, I know thee now, thou art he[182] that eats up all the hips and haws; we could not have one piece of fat bacon for thee all this year.

MUCEDORUS. Thou dost mistake me; but I pray thee, tell me what dost thou seek in these woods?

CLOWN. What do I seek? for a stray king's daughter run away with a shepherd.

MUCEDORUS. A stray king's daughter run away with a shepherd.

Wherefore? canst thou tell?

CLOWN. Yes, that I can; 'tis this. My master and Amadine walking one day abroad, nearer to these woods than they were used (about what I cannot tell); but toward them comes running a great bear. Now my master he played the man, and ran away; and Amadine, crying after him;--now, sir, comes me a shepherd, and he strikes off the bear's head. Now, whether the bear were dead before or no, I cannot tell; for bring twenty bears before me, and bind their hands and feet, and I'll kill them all. Now, ever since, Amadine hath been in love with the shepherd; and for goodwill she's even run away with the shepherd.

MUCEDORUS. What manner of man was a? canst describe him unto me?

CLOWN. Scribe him? ay, I warrant you, that I can. A was a little, low, broad, tall, narrow, big, well-favoured fellow: a jerkin of white cloth, and b.u.t.tons of the same cloth.

MUCEDORUS. Thou describest him well; but if I chance to see any such, pray you, where shall I find you, or what's your name?

CLOWN. My name is called Master Mouse.

MUCEDORUS. O Master Mouse, I pray you, what office might you bear in the court?

CLOWN. Marry, sir, I am a rusher of the stable.

MUCEDORUS. O, usher of the table.

CLOWN. Nay, I say rusher, and I'll prove my office good. For look, sir, when any comes from under the sea or so, and a dog chance to blow his nose backward, then with a whip I give him the good time of the day, and straw rushes presently. Therefore I am a rusher: a high office, I promise ye.

MUCEDORUS. But where shall I find you in the court?

CLOWN. Why, where it is best being, either in the kitchen a eating, or in the b.u.t.tery drinking. But if you come, I will provide for thee a piece of beef and brewis knuckle-deep in fat. Pray you, take pains; remember Master Mouse.

[_Exit_.

MUCEDORUS. Ay, sir, I warrant I will not forget you.

Ah, Amadine! what should become of thee?

Whither shouldst thou go so long unknown?

With watch and ward each pa.s.sage is beset, Doubtless she hath lost herself within these woods, And wand'ring to and fro she seeks the well, Which yet she cannot find; Therefore will I seek her out.

[_Exit.

Enter_ BREMO _and_ AMADINE.

BREMO. Amadine!

How like you Bremo and his woods?

AMADINE. As like the woods of Bremo's cruelty.