Mucedorus Mucd: M Author Anonymous Editor Sofia Spiteri Supervising Editor Janelle Jenstad Copyright Holder (XML and interface) University of Victoria Copyright Holder Sofia Spiteri Copyright Holder Janelle Jenstad Digital Renaissance Editions DRE

Anthology Leads and Co-Coordinating Editors: Brett Greatley-Hirsch, Janelle Jenstad, James Mardock, and Sarah Neville.

 Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada Valerie Kuehne Undergraduate Research Awards, University of Victoria

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Intellectual copyright in this edition is held by the editors, Sofia Spiteri and Janelle Jenstad. The XML files of the semi-diplomatic transcriptions are licensed for reuse under a CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 license, which means that they are freely downloadable without permission under the following conditions: (1) credit must be given to the editors, DRE, and LEMDO in any subsequent use of the files and/or data; (2) derivatives (e.g., adapted scripts for performance) must be shared under the same CC BY-NC-SA 4.0 license; and (3) commercial uses are not permitted without the knowledge and consent of the editors, DRE, and LEMDO. The critical paratexts are licensed under a CC BY-NC_ND 4.0 license, which means that they are freely downloadable without permission under the following conditions: (1) credit must be given to the editor, DRE, and LEMDO in any subsequent use of the files and/or data; (2) the content cannot be adapted or repurposed (except for quotations for the purposes of academic review and citation); and (3) commercial uses are not permitted without the knowledge and consent of MoMS, the editor, and LEMDO. This license allows for pedagogical use of the critical paratexts in the classroom.

Digital Renaissance Editions

This modern edition was prepared from a transcription of Mucedorus Q3 created by Sofia Spiteri under the supervision of Janelle Jenstad.

Mucedorus Q1 (1598) Mucedorus Q2 (1606) Mucedorus Q3 (1610) Mucedorus Q4 (1611) Mucedorus Q5 (1613) Mucedorus Q6 (1615) Mucedorus Q7 (1618) Mucedorus Q8 (1619) Mucedorus Q9 (1621) Mucedorus Q10 (1626) Mucedorus Q11 Mucedorus Q12 (1631) Mucedorus Q13 (1634) Mucedorus Q14 (1639) Mucedorus Q15 Mucedorus Q16 (1663) Mucedorus Q17 (1668) Tyrrell, Henry. Mucedorus. The Doubtful Plays of William Shakespeare. London and New York: John Tallis, 1853. 350–372. Hazlitt, W. Carew. Mucedorus. A Select Collection of Old English Plays. Originally Published by Robert Dodsley in the Year 1744. 4th ed. Vol. 7. London: Reeves and Turner, 1874. Warnke, Karl and Proescholdt, Ludwig, eds. Mucedorus. Pseudo-Shakespearian Plays. Halle (Saale): Max Niemeyer, 1878. Hopkinson, A.F., ed. Mucedorus. Shakespeare’s Doubtful Plays. London, M.E. Sims, 1893. Tucker Brooke, C.F. Mucedorus. The Shakespeare Apocrypha. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908; rpt. 1929. 103–126. Baskervill, Charles Read, Virgil B. Heltzel, and Arthur H. Nethercot. Mucedorus. Elizabethan and Stuart Plays. New York: Henry Holt, 1934; rpt. 1957. 525–552. Winny, James, ed. Mucedorus, in Three Elizabethan Plays. London, Chatto and Windus, 1959, 14–16, 105–153. Fraser, Russell A. and Norman Rabkin. Mucedorus. Drama of the English Renaissance I: The Tudor Period. Vol. 1. New York: Macmillan, 1976. 463–480. Jupin, Arvin H. A Contextual Study and Modern-Spelling Edition of <title level="m">Mucedorus. New York: Garland, 1987. The Renaissance Imagination 29. Goss, David A., ed. A Most Pleasant Comedy Of Mucedorus, A thesis submitted to the Faculty of the Graduate School of the State University of New York at Buffalo. New York: University at Buffalo, 2009. Bate, Jonathan and Eric Rasmussen. Mucedorus. William Shakespeare and Others: Collaborative Plays. Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. 503–550. WSB aaac460. This edition, edited by Sofia Spiteri.

Prologue Prologue Envy Envy Comedy Comedy Mucedorus, Prince of Valencia Mucedorus Amadine, Princess of Aragon Amadine Segasto, a wealthy nobleman betrothed to Amadine Segasto Mouse, a clown Mouse Bremo, a wild man Bremo Adrastus, King of Aragon Aragon King of Valencia Valencia Tremelio, an Aragonese captain Tremelio Collin, counsellor to the King of Aragon Collin Rumbelo, a soldier in Segasto’s service Rumbelo Ariena, a maid to Amadine Ariena Anselmo, a friend to Mucedorus Anselmo Roderigo, a Valencian courtier Roderigo Barachius, a Valencian lord Barachius Messenger Messenger Old Woman Nip Old Woman Boy Boy

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Training and Documentation Lead 2025–present. LEMDO project manager 2022–2025. Textual remediator 2021–present. Navarra Houldin (they/them) completed their BA with a major in history and minor in Spanish at the University of Victoria in 2022. Their primary research was on gender and sexuality in early modern Europe and Latin America. They are continuing their education through an MA program in Gender and Social Justice Studies at the University of Alberta where they will specialize in Digital Humanities.

 Janelle Jenstad Janelle Jenstad

Janelle Jenstad is a Professor of English at the University of Victoria, Director of The Map of Early Modern London, and Director of Linked Early Modern Drama Online. With Jennifer Roberts-Smith and Mark Beatrice Kaethler, she co-edited Shakespeare’s Language in Digital Media: Old Words, New Tools (Routledge). She has edited John Stow’s A Survey of London (1598 text) for MoEML and is currently editing The Merchant of Venice (with Stephen Wittek) and Heywood’s 2 If You Know Not Me You Know Nobody for DRE. Her articles have appeared in Digital Humanities Quarterly, Elizabethan Theatre, Early Modern Literary Studies, Shakespeare Bulletin, Renaissance and Reformation, and The Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies. She contributed chapters to Approaches to Teaching Othello (MLA); Teaching Early Modern Literature from the Archives (MLA); Institutional Culture in Early Modern England (Brill); Shakespeare, Language, and the Stage (Arden); Performing Maternity in Early Modern England (Ashgate); New Directions in the Geohumanities (Routledge); Early Modern Studies and the Digital Turn (Iter); Placing Names: Enriching and Integrating Gazetteers (Indiana); Making Things and Drawing Boundaries (Minnesota); Rethinking Shakespeare Source Study: Audiences, Authors, and Digital Technologies (Routledge); and Civic Performance: Pageantry and Entertainments in Early Modern London (Routledge). For more details, see janellejenstad.com.

 Sofia Spiteri Sofia Spiteri

Sofia Spiteri is currently completing her Bachelor of Arts in History at the University of Victoria. During the summer of 2023, she had the opportunity to work with LEMDO as a recipient of the Valerie Kuehne Undergraduate Research Award (VKURA). Her work with LEMDO primarily includes semi-diplomatic transcriptions for The Winter’s Tale and Mucedorus.

 Anonymous Baskervill, Charles Read, Virgil B. Heltzel, and Arthur H. Nethercot. Mucedorus. Elizabethan and Stuart Plays. New York: Henry Holt, 1934; rpt. 1957. 525–552. Bate, Jonathan and Eric Rasmussen. Mucedorus. William Shakespeare and Others: Collaborative Plays. Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. 503–550. WSB aaac460. Fraser, Russell A. and Norman Rabkin. Mucedorus. Drama of the English Renaissance I: The Tudor Period. Vol. 1. New York: Macmillan, 1976. 463–480. Goss, David A., ed. A Most Pleasant Comedy Of Mucedorus, A thesis submitted to the Faculty of the Graduate School of the State University of New York at Buffalo. New York: University at Buffalo, 2009. Hazlitt, W. Carew. Mucedorus. A Select Collection of Old English Plays. Originally Published by Robert Dodsley in the Year 1744. 4th ed. Vol. 7. London: Reeves and Turner, 1874. Hopkinson, A.F., ed. Mucedorus. Shakespeare’s Doubtful Plays. London, M.E. Sims, 1893. Jupin, Arvin H. A Contextual Study and Modern-Spelling Edition of <title level="m">Mucedorus. New York: Garland, 1987. The Renaissance Imagination 29. OED: The Oxford English Dictionary. 2nd ed. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989. Tucker Brooke, C.F. Mucedorus. The Shakespeare Apocrypha. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908; rpt. 1929. 103–126. Tyrrell, Henry. Mucedorus. The Doubtful Plays of William Shakespeare. London and New York: John Tallis, 1853 . 350–372. Warnke, Karl and Proescholdt, Ludwig, eds. Mucedorus. Pseudo-Shakespearian Plays. Halle (Saale): Max Niemeyer, 1878. Winny, James, ed. Mucedorus, in Three Elizabethan Plays. London, Chatto and Windus, 1959, 14–16, 105–153. LEMDO Team The LEMDO Team is based at the University of Victoria and normally comprises the project director, the lead developer, project manager, junior developers(s), remediators, encoders, and remediating editors. University of Victoria https://www.uvic.ca/ University of Victoria Libraries https://library.uvic.ca England—nay, the world—admires, England; nay, the World admires: both as one bench both at one bench, throne place Exit. Exit Prologue. joyfully, ioyfull Why so? Why so; Who so; Why so, Why so: Why so Why so! Why, so! Why, so; come coms gentles; gentiles Gentles, silver-tunèd siluer tuned silver tun’d silver-tuned silver tunèd What, all on mirth? What al on mirth; What, all on mirth, What all on mirth? What, al on mirth! stifle stiffe still deeds name Danish danes dankish (emended from Collier) Sound drums within and cry, Stab! Stab! Sound drumes within and crie stab stab. A sound of Drums within, and cries of Stab, stab. Drums within and a cry, ’Stab, stab!’ Sound drums within, and cry, Stab, stab! Sound Drums within, and cry stab, stab. the gods Gods the cries of many thousands the cries of many thousand the cry of many thousand This sport alone for me? thi’s sport alone for me. ’tis sport alone for me. ’t is sport alone for me! This port alone for me! this sport alone for me! seek to quail quaile Delighting in mirth, Delights in mirth, Thou bloody, envious disdainer Thou bloodie, Enuious, disdainer Thou bloodie, enuious; disdayner Thou bloody envious disdainer Thou bloody, envious ’sdainer Thou, bloodie, Enuious, disdainer Thou, bloody, envious disdainer joys, ioye, I humbly crave thee hence, I humbly crave thee, hence! I humbly crave thee; hence, ’mongst amongst human humaine humane forbearance forbeare This will I do! This will I doe, This will I do; This will I doe? This will I doe: Thus will I doe: brave praue prove trade tread two monsters, to monsters, Exeunt. Exit. Exit with Comedy. Exit Comedy and Envy. Anselmo! Anselmo. Anselmo? True my Anselmo, both thy Lord and friend, Q5 removes the first line of this speech (including the speech prefix for Mucedorus) and attributes the rest to Anselmo. Anselmo’s subsequent speech prefix from Q3 is retained, however, suggesting that the modification was likely done in error. The following quartos retain the adjustment from Q5. By Q7, the final two lines of Mucedorus’ speech have been incorporated into one longer speech for Anselmo. Anselmo Q7 collapses Mucedorus’ previous speech into a longer speech for Anselmo. It also removes Anselmo’s speech prefix here. ne’er near But, my Anselmo… say, / I must… friendship. But, my Anselmo… friendship. In the quartos, these lines are set as one long prose line. Hazlitt is the first editor to properly lineate them as verse. mountebank? Mountebancke. mountebank! Enter Anselmo with a shepherd’s coat. Re-enter Anselmo with a Shepherd’s coat. Re-enter Anselmo with a shepherd’s coat, which he gives to Mucedorus. Anselmo returns with the disguise. Exit. Exit Mucedorus. wish’s wishes wishes’ on her, on him, to him to her Away I say, Away, I say Reason, some reason, soon your spare save it he any any, A Ah neuer, is my never it is Amadine. Amadine? so. no. no. so. we heere a Shepheard standes, a second here, sees saies Thou sot, Then (Sot) deare Oh impudent; a Shepheard, and so insolent? Oh impudent, a shepheard and so insolent. Oh impudent! A Shepherd and so insolent. we he pastimes, you pastimes you combining combined heart head Fiend, friend, your our desertfull deceitful Yon splendant Maiestie hath feld my sting, sir? sirrah? sir, sirrah; sir, to sirrah, cald? call’d; so of Why What’s that same King, What is that King, doubts; doubts, doubts: thinke have Sire; Sir, Golden treasures: golden tresuries, gold and treasures: and if sight-fort; sight for’t, Least Lest praue braue prove lieue live you? you. A Shepheard (Lady) A Shepherd, Ladie! desgusseth disguiseth discloseth Let the musicke cease Musick ceaseth In Q16, this stage direction is placed to the right with a curly bracket next to it. The word Musick appears next to the final line of the King’s speech, while ceaseth appears next to the first line of Roderigo’s speech. Muc. In Q16, this speech is attributed to Anselmo as a continuation of his previous speech. True my Anselmo, both thy Lord and friend Ans. Because Q16 attributes the previous lines of speech to Anselmo as well, his speaker tag on this line is omitted. love, with faith, them guide The king’s council is guided by love and faith. Why so? Why do I appear in this way? Bellona The Roman goddess of war. C. F. Tucker Brooke notes that Bellona was likely alluded to in error (Tucker Brooke 424). The author perhaps confused her with one of the muses. cur An unfriendly, aggressive dog, particularly a mixed-breed. spite of thee In spite of thee. Danish J. P. Collier emended this reading from Danish to dankish, setting a precedent which has since been followed by many editors. As noted by Arvin Jupin, however, the original reading of Danish is not necessarily nonsensical, but may simply represent a connection between Danes and caves not now readily recognizable (Jupin 77). Following Jupin’s suggestion, this edition has chosen to retain the original Danish rather than adopt Collier’s emendation. sap Milk. tender the suit Agree to the request. cross Thwart. maugre In spite of. bosom To take to the bosom; embrace. Figuratively, to receive into intimate companionship (OED bosom, v.3.a). choice Admirable; of special excellence. misconster Misconstrue. Thou… have Thou know’st that I have often imparted to you. each where Everywhere. miss Absence. front Forehead; in this case, a metonymic phrase referring to the King of Valencia’s sovereignty. mountebank A person who deceives others; a charlatan. an humbler Spoken early modern English often neglected to pronounce the letter h when it appears before a vowel at the beginning of a word. bottle Bundle. pursues Pursuits. usury Money-lending, typically illegal, with high rates of interest. bill An archaic weapon with a long wooden handle most often used by infantry (OED bill, n.2.a). and If. without welt or guard Both welt and guard can refer to an ornamental trimming placed on the edge of a garment. Mouse is using this phrase to reinforce the lack of embellishments to his name (OED welt, n.2.b). I care not I don’t mind. tofore Heretofore; before the present. grutch Complain. whatso Whatsoever. by Lady An oath referring to the Virgin Mary; its most common forms are the expanded by our Lady and the slightly modified by’r Lady. Mouse has created his own iteration of the phrase by clipping the word our. a He. brewis Fat-soaked bread. jack A leather jug chiefly used to carry liquor. vild Vile. merciless Pronounced with two syllables. Hold… law! Although this passage is clearly written in verse, it does not easily divide into pentameter lines. To remedy this, the retention of iambs within the same line has been prioritized over creating an even number of syllables per line. flain An archaic past participle of flay. use to Make a habit out of. sung looby Sung a lullaby. Mouse’s phrasing plays on the word looby, which refers to a large, hulking fellow. passengers Travellers. Master King Mouse seems to believe that Master King is the King of Aragon’s official title, much like how he believes the churchwarden’s official title is Goodman King. sovereign Pronounced with three syllables. forwhy Because. shipsticks Mouse is likely attempting to say sheep’s ticks, although the spelling of shipsticks appears closer to the way he would have pronounced it. Alternatively, he may be seeking to diminish the value of Amadine’s words, which is expressed through the comparison of mere sticks to the large planks of wood used to build a ship. Sisters The three fates of Greek mythology who were believed to play a role in weaving the future of humanity. sith Since. lousy Afflicted with or covered in lice. take law-legs To run away quickly, often from law enforcement. Phaethon’s tale In Greek mythology, Phaethon was the son of Helios, the sun god. After nearly crashing his father’s sun chariot into Earth, Phaethon was executed by Zeus. By alluding to this story, Mucedorus is lamenting that an opportunity has been lost due to what he perceives to be his own foolish actions. bale Physical torment or mental suffering; evil. Grecian queen Helen of Troy. arrant Notorious. panch A large or protruding belly (OED panch, n.1.b). Go to An expression of annoyance or disbelief. In other words, Get lost. curtal An animal, typically a horse or dog, with its tail cut short or docked (OED curtal, n.I.1). adamant Figuratively, the quality of not being easily destroyed, overcome, or affected. Originally a strong rock or mineral (OED adamant, n.1.b). doubtful Suspicious. emmet Ant. hip The fruit of a rose. haw The fruit of a hawthorn. recreate Entertain. rout A disorderly or disreputable group of people; a mob (OED rout, n.3.a). Orpheus A figure in Greek mythology known for his exceptional talents in music and poetry. A bots on you Curse you. ’parel Apparel. sancted Sainted. rochet A robe worn chiefly by Roman Catholic or Anglican bishops. ball The Earth. chawing Chewing. David According to the Hebrew bible, David was the third king of Israel. Comedy is noting James I to be the offspring of David. stroken Stricken.
Prologue Prologue Most sacred majesty, whose great deserts Thy subject England—nay, the world—admires, Which heaven grant still increase. O may your praise, Multiplying with your hours, your fame still raise. Embrace your council; love, with faith, them guide, That both as one bench by each other’s side. So may your life pass on, and run so even That your firm zeal plant you a throne in heaven, Where smiling angels shall your guardians be From blemished traitors stained with perjury. And as the night’s inferior to the day, So be all earthly regions to your sway; Be as the sun to day, the day to night, For from your beams Europe shall borrow light. Mirth drown your bosom, fair delight your mind, And may our pastime your contentment find. Exit.
Induction Enter Comedy joyfully, with a garland of bays on her head. Comedy Why so? Thus do I hope to please! Music revives, and mirth is tolerable. Comedy, play thy part, and please. Make merry them that come to joy with thee. Joy, then, good gentles; I hope to make you laugh. Sound forth Bellona’s silver-tunèd strings; Time fits us well: the day and place is ours. Enter Envy, his arms naked, besmeared with blood. Envy Nay, stay, minion! There lies a block. What, all on mirth? I’ll interrupt your tale, And mix your music with a tragic end. Comedy What monstrous ugly hag is this, That dares control the pleasures of our will? Vaunt, churlish cur, besmeared with gory blood, That seemst to check the blossom of delight, And stifle the sound of sweet Bellona’s breath. Blush, monster, blush, and post away with shame, That seek’st disturbance of a goddess’ deeds. Envy Post hence thyself, thou counterchecking trull. I will possess this habit spite of thee, And gain the glory of thy wishèd port. I’ll thunder music shall appall the nymphs, And make them shiver their clattering strings, Flying for succour to their Danish caves. Sound drums within and cry, "Stab! Stab!" Hearken, thou shalt hear a noise Shall fill the air with a shrilling sound, And thunder music to the gods above. Mars shall himself breathe down A peerless crown upon brave Envy’s head, And raise his chival with a lasting fame. In this brave music Envy takes delight, Where I may see them wallow in their blood, To spurn at arms and legs quite shivered off And hear the cries of many thousands slain. How lik’st thou this, my trull? This sport alone for me? Comedy Vaunt, bloody cur, nursed up with tiger’s sap, That so dost seek to quaile a woman’s mind. Comedy is mild, gentle, willing for to please, And seeks to gain the love of all estates, Delighting in mirth, mixed all with lovely tales, And bringeth things with treble joy to pass. Thou bloody, envious disdainer of men’s joys, Whose name is fraught with bloody stratagems, Delights in nothing but in spoil and death, Where thou mayst trample in their lukewarm blood, And grasp their hearts within thy cursèd paws. Yet vail thy mind; revenge thou not on me; A silly woman begs it at thy hands. Give me the leave to utter out my play. Forbear this place, I humbly crave thee hence, And mix not death ’mongst pleasing comedies That treats nought else but pleasure and delight. If any spark of human rests in thee, Forbear, be gone, tender the suit of me. Envy Why, so I will; forbearance shall be such As treble death shall cross thee with despite And make thee mourn where most thou joyest, Turning thy mirth into a deadly dole, Whirling thy pleasures with a peal of death, And drench thy methods in a sea of blood. This will I do! Thus shall I bear with thee; And more, to vex thee with a deeper spite, I will with threats of blood begin thy play, Favouring thee with envy and with hate. Comedy Then, ugly monster, do thy worst; I will defend them in despite of thee. And though thou think’st with tragic fumes To brave my play unto my deep disgrace, I force it not; I scorne what thou canst do. I’ll grace it so thyself shall it confess From tragic stuff to be a pleasant comedy. Envy Why then, Comedy, send thy actors forth, And I will cross the first steps of their trade, Making them fear the very dart of death. Comedy And I’ll defend them maugre all thy spite. So, ugly fiend, farewell, till time shall serve That we may meet to parley for the best. Envy Content, Comedy; I’ll go spread my branch, And scattered blossoms from mine envious tree, Shall prove two monsters, spoiling of their joys. Exeunt.
Scene 1 Sound. Enter Mucedorus and Anselmo, his friend. Mucedorus Anselmo! Anselmo My lord and friend. Mucedorus True my Anselmo, both thy lord and friend, Whose dear affections bosom with my heart And keep their domination in one orb. Anselmo Whence ne’er disloyalty shall root it forth, But faith plant firmer in your choice respect. Mucedorus Much blame were mine if I should other deem, Nor can coy fortune contrary allow. But, my Anselmo, loath I am to say, I must estrange that frendship. Misconster not, ’tis from the realm, not thee; Though lands part bodies, hearts keep company. Thou know’st that I imparted often have Private relations with my royal sire, Had as concerning beauteous Amadine, Rich Aragon’s bright jewel, whose face, some say, That blooming lilies never shone so gay, Excelling, not excelled. Yet, lest report Does mangle verity, boasting of what is not, Winged with desire, thither I’ll straight repair, And be my fortunes as my thoughts are, fair. Anselmo Will you forsake Valencia, leave the court, Absent you from the eye of sovereignty? Do not, sweet prince, adventure on that task. Since danger lurks each where, be won from it. Mucedorus Desist dissuasion; My resolution brooks no battery. Therefore, if thou retain thy wonted form, Assist what I intend. Anselmo Your miss will breed a blemish in the court, And throw a frosty dew upon that beard Whose front Valencia stoops to. Mucedorus If thou my welfare tender, then no more; Let love’s strong magic charm thy trivial phrase, Wasted as vainly as to gripe the sun. Augment not then more answers; lock thy lips, Unless thy wisdom suit me with disguise According to my purpose. Anselmo That action craves no counsel, Since what you rightly are will more command Than best usurpèd shape. Mucedorus Thou still art opposite in disposition. A more obscure, servile habiliment Beseems this enterprise. Anselmo Then like a Florentine or mountebank? Mucedorus ’Tis much too tedious; I dislike thy judgement. My mind is grafted on an humbler stock. Anselmo Within my closet does there hang a cassock; Though base the weed is, ’twas a shepherd’s, Which I presented in Lord Julio’s masque. Mucedorus That, my Anselmo, and none else but that, Mask Mucedorus from the vulgar view. That habit suits my mind; fetch me that weed. Exit Anselmo. Better than kings have not disdained that state, And much inferior, to obtain their mate. Enter Anselmo with a shepherd’s coat. So let our respect command thy secrecy. At once a brief farewell; Delay to lovers is a second hell. Exit. Anselmo Prosperity forerun thee; awkward chance Never be neighbour to thy wish’s venture. Content and fame advance thee; ever thrive, And glory thy mortality survive. Exit.
Scene 2 Enter Mouse with a bottle of hay. Mouse

O, horrible, terrible! Was ever poor gentleman so scared out of his seven senses? A bear? Nay, sure it cannot be a bear, but some devil in a bear’s doublet, for a bear could never have had that agility to have frighted me. Well, I’ll see my father hanged before I’ll serve his horse anymore. Well, I’ll carry home my bottle of hay, and for once make my father’s horse turn puritan and observe fasting days, for he gets not a bit. But soft! This way she followed me; therefore I’ll take the other path, and because I’ll be sure to have an eye on her, I will take hands with some foolish creditor and make every step backward.

 As he goes backwards, the bear comes in, and he tumbles over her, and runs away, and leaves his bottle of hay behind him.
Scene 3 Enter Segasto running and Amadine after him, being pursued with a bear. Segasto O fly, madam, fly, or else we are but dead! Amadine Help, Segasto, help! Help, sweet Segasto, or else I die! Segasto Alas, madam, there is no way but flight; Then haste and save yourself! Segasto runs away. Amadine Why, then I die! Ah, help me in distress! Enter Mucedorus, like a shepherd, with a sword drawn and a bear’s head in his hand. Mucedorus Stay, Lady, stay, and be no more dismayed! That cruel beast, most merciless and fell, Which hath bereaved thousands of their lives, Affrighted many with his hard pursues, Prying from place to place to find his prey, Prolonging thus his life by other’s death, His carcass now lies headless, void of breath. Amadine That foul, deformèd monster, is he dead? Mucedorus Assure yourself thereof; behold his head, Which, if it please you, lady, to accept, With willing heart I yield it to your majesty. Amadine Thanks, worthy shepherd, thanks a thousand times. This gift, assure thyself, contents me more Than greatest bounty of a mighty prince, Although he were the monarch of the world. Mucedorus Most gracious goddess, more than mortal wight— Your heavenly hue of right imports no less— Most glad am I, in that it was my chance To undertake this enterprise in hand, Which doth so greatly glad your princely mind. Amadine No goddess, shepherd, but a mortal wight; A mortal wight distressèd, as thou see’st. My father here is King of Aragon. I, Amadine, his only daughter am, And after him, sole heir unto the crown. Now whereas it is my father’s will To marry me unto Segasto, one Whose wealth, through father’s former usury, Is known to be no less than wonderful, We both of custom often times did use— Leaving the court—to walk within the fields For recreation, especially the spring, In that it yields great store of rare delights; And, passing further than our wonted walks, Scarce entered were within these luckless woods, But right before us, down a steep-fall hill, A monstrous, ugly bear did hie him fast To meet us both. I faint to tell the rest, Good shepherd, but suppose the ghastly looks, The hideous fears, the thousand hundred woes, Which at this instant Amadine sustained. Mucedorus Yet, worthy princess, let thy sorrow cease, And let this sight your former joys revive. Amadine Believe me, shepherd, so it doth no less. Mucedorus Long may they last unto your heart’s content. But tell me, lady, what is become of him? Segasto called? What is become of him? Amadine I know not, I; that know the powers divine. But God grant this, that sweet Segasto live. Mucedorus Yet hard-hearted he in such a case, So cowardly to save himself by flight And leave so brave a princess to the spoil. Amadine Well, shepherd, for thy worthy valour tried, Endangering thyself to set me free, Unrecompensèd sure thou shalt not be. In court thy courage shall be plainly known; Throughout the kingdom will I spread thy name, To thy renown and never-dying fame. And, that thy courage may be better known, Bear thou the head of this most monstrous beast In open sight to every courtier’s view; So will the king my father thee reward. Come, let’s away, and guard me to the court. Mucedorus With all my heart. Exeunt.
Scene 4 Enter Segasto solus. Segasto When heaps of harms do hover overhead, ’Tis time as then, some say, to look about, And of ensuing harms to choose the least. But hard, yea hapless, is that wretch’s chance, Luckless his lot and caitiff-like accursed, At whose proceedings fortune ever frowns: Myself I mean, most subject unto thrall, For I, the more I seek to shun the worst, The more by proof I find myself accursed. Erewhiles assaulted with an ugly bear, Fair Amadine in company all alone, Forthwith by flight I thought to save myself, Leaving my Amadine unto her shifts; For death it was for to resist the bear, And death no less of Amadine’s harms to hear. Accursèd I, in ling’ring life thus long! In living thus, each minute of an hour Doth pierce my heart with darts of thousand deaths. If she by flight her fury do escape, What will she think? Will she not say, yea, flatly to my face, Accusing me of mere disloyalty, A trusty friend is tried in time of need? But I, when she in danger was of death, And needed me, and cried, "Segasto, help!" I turned my back and quickly ran away. Unworthy I to bear this vital breath! But what, what needs these plaints? If Amadine do live, then happy I; She will in time forgive, and so forget. Amadine is merciful, not Juno-like In harmful heart to harbour hatred long. Enter Mouse running, crying Clubs! Mouse

Clubs, prongs, pitchforks, bills! O help! A bear, a bear, a bear!

 Segasto

Still bears, and nothing else but bears. Tell me, sirrah, where she is.

 Mouse

O sir, she is run down the woods. I saw her white head and her white belly.

 Segasto

Thou talk’st of wonders to tell me of white bears. But, sirrah, didst thou ever see any such?

 Mouse

No, faith, I never saw any such, but I remember my father’s words: he bade me take heed I was not caught with a white bear.

 Segasto

A lamentable tale, no doubt.

 Mouse

I tell you what, sir, as I was going afield to serve my father’s great horse, and carried a bottle of hay upon my head—now, do you see, sir—I fast hoodwinked that I could see nothing, I—perceiving the bear coming—I threw my hay into the hedge and ran away.

 Segasto

What, from nothing?

 Mouse

I warrant you, yes, I saw something, for there was two load of thorns besides my bottle of hay, and that made three.

 Segasto

But tell me, sirrah, the bear that thou didst see, did she not bear a bucket on her arm?

 Mouse

Ha, ha, ha! I never saw bear go a-milking in all my life. But hark you, sir, I did not look so high as her arm. I saw nothing but her white head and her white belly.

 Segasto

But tell me, sirrah, where dost thou dwell?

 Mouse

Why, do you not know me?

 Segasto

Why no, how should I know thee?

 Mouse

Why, then you know nobody, and you know not me. I tell you, sir, I am the Goodman Rat’s son of the next parish over the hill.

 Segasto

Goodman Rat’s son? Why, what’s thy name?

 Mouse

Why, I am very near kin unto him.

 Segasto

I think so, but what’s thy name?

 Mouse

My name? I have a very pretty name. I’ll tell you what my name is: my name is Mouse.

 Segasto

What, plain Mouse?

 Mouse

Aye, plain Mouse without either welt or guard. But do you hear, sir, I am but a very young Mouse, for my tail is scarce grown out yet; look you here else.

 Segasto

But I pray thee, who gave thee that name?

 Mouse

Faith, sir, I know not that, but if you would fain know, ask my father’s great horse, for he hath been half a year longer with my father than I have.

 Segasto Aside This seems to be a merry fellow; I care not if I take him home with me. Mirth is a comfort to a troubled mind; A merry man, a merry master makes.

To Mouse How say’st thou, sirrah, wilt thou dwell with me?

 Mouse

Nay, soft, sir, two words to a bargain. Pray you, what occupation are you?

 Segasto

No occupation; I live upon my lands.

 Mouse

Your lands? Away, you are no master for me! Why, do you think that I am so mad to go seek my living in the lands amongst the stones, briars, and bushes, and tear my holiday apparel? Not I, by your leave.

 Segasto

Why, I do not mean thou shalt.

 Mouse

How then?

 Segasto

Why, thou shalt be my man, and wait upon me at the court.

 Mouse

What’s that?

 Segasto

Where the king lies.

 Mouse

What’s that same king, a man or a woman?

 Segasto

A man as thou art.

 Mouse

As I am? Hark you, sir, pray you, what kin is he to Goodman King of our parish, the churchwarden?

 Segasto

No kin to him; he is the king of the whole land.

 Mouse

King of the land? I never see him.

 Segasto

If thou wilt dwell with me, thou shalt see him every day.

 Mouse

Shall I go home again to be torn in pieces with bears? No, not I. I will go home and put on a clean shirt, and then go drown myself.

 Segasto

Thou shalt not need. If thou wilt dwell with me, thou shalt want nothing.

 Mouse

Shall I not? Then here’s my hand, I’ll dwell with you. And hark you, sir, now you have entertained me, I will tell you what I can do: I can keep my tongue from picking and stealing and my hands from lying and slandering, I warrant you, as well as ever you had man in all your life.

 Segasto

Aside Now will I to court with sorrowful heart rounded with doubts.

If Amadine do live, then happy I; Yea, happy I, if Amadine do live. Exeunt.
Scene 5 Enter the King of Aragon with a young prince prisoner, Amadine, Tremelio, Segasto, Mouse, Collin, and counsellors. Aragon Now, brave lords, our wars are brought to end, Our foes the foil, and we in safety rest. It us behooves to use such clemency In peace, as valour in the wars. It is As great honour to be bountiful at home As to be conquerors in the field. Therefore, my lords, the more to my content, Your liking, and our country’s safeguard, We are disposed in marriage for to give Our daughter to Lord Segasto here, Who shall succeed the diadem after me And reign hereafter as I tofore have done, Your sole and lawful King of Aragon. What say you, lordings, like you of my advice? Collin

An’t please your majesty, we do not only allow of your highness’ pleasure, but also vow faithfully in what we may to further it.

 Aragon Thanks, good my lords; if long Adrastus live, He will at full requite your courtesies. Tremelio, in recompense of thy late valour done, Take unto thee the Catalone, a prince Lately our prisoner taken in the wars. Be thou his keeper, his ransom shall be thine; We’ll think of it when leisure shall afford. Meanwhile, do use him well; his father is a king. Tremelio Thanks to your majesty; his usage shall be such As he thereat shall think no cause to grutch. Aragon Then march we on to court, and rest our wearied limbs. Exeunt Segasto, Mouse, Amadine, Tremelio, counsellors, and prince. But, Collin, I have a tale in secret kept for thee: When thou shalt hear a watchword from thy king, Think then some weighty matter is at hand That highly shall concern our state. Then, Collin, look thou be not far from me; And for thy service thou tofore hast done, Thy truth and valour proved in every point, I shall with bounties thee enlarge therefore. So, guard us to the court. Collin Whatso my sovereign doth command me do, With willing mind I gladly yield consent. Exeunt.
Scene 6 Enter Segasto, and Mouse with weapons about him. Segasto

Tell me, sirrah, how do you like your weapons?

 Mouse

Oh, very well, very well; they keep my sides warm.

 Segasto

They keep the dogs from your shins very well, do they not?

 Mouse

How, keep the dogs from my shins? I would scorn but my shins should keep the dogs from them.

 Segasto

Well, sirrah, leaving idle talk, tell me: dost thou know Captain Tremelio’s chamber?

 Mouse

Aye, very well; it hath a door.

 Segasto

I think so, for so hath every chamber. But dost thou know the man?

 Mouse

Aye, forsooth; he hath a nose on his face.

 Segasto

Why, so hath everyone.

 Mouse

That’s more than I know.

 Segasto

But dost thou remember the captain that was here with the king even now, that brought the young prince prisoner?

 Mouse

Oh, very well.

 Segasto

Go unto him, and bid him come unto me. Tell him I have a matter in secret to impart to him.

 Mouse

I will, master— Master, what’s his name?

 Segasto

Why, Captain Tremelio.

 Mouse

Oh, the mealman! I know him very well, he brings meal every Saturday. But hark you, master, must I bid him come to you, or must you come to him?

 Segasto

No, sirrah, he must come to me.

 Mouse

Hark you, master, how if he be not at home? What shall I do then?

 Segasto

Why, then leave word with some of his folks.

 Mouse

O master, if there be nobody within, I will leave word with his dog.

 Segasto

Why, can his dog speak?

 Mouse

I cannot tell; wherefore doth he keep his chamber else?

 Segasto

To keep out such knaves as thou art.

 Mouse

Nay, by Lady, then go yourself.

 Segasto

You will go, sir, will ye not?

 Mouse

Yes, marry, will I. Oh, ’tis come to my head; and a be not within, I’ll bring his chamber to you.

 Segasto

What, wilt thou pluck down the king’s house?

 Mouse

Nay, by Lady, I’ll know the price of it first. Master, it is such a hard name, I have forgotten it again. I pray you, tell me his name?

 Segasto

I tell thee, Captain Tremelio.

 Mouse

Calling O Captain Treble-knave! Captain Treble-knave!

 Enter Tremelio. Tremelio

How now, sirrah, dost thou call me?

 Mouse

You must come to my master, Captain Treble-knave.

 Tremelio My lord Segasto, did you send for me? Segasto I did, Tremelio.

To Mouse Sirrah, about your business.

 Mouse

Aye, marry, what’s that? Can you tell?

 Segasto

No, not well.

 Mouse

Marry, then, I can. Straight to the kitchen-dresser to John the cook, and get me a good piece of beef and brewis, and then to the buttery-hatch to Thomas the butler for a jack of beer, and there for an hour I’ll so belabour myself. And therefore I pray you, call me not till you think I have done, I pray you, good master.

 Segasto

Well, sir, away.

Exit Mouse. Tremelio, this it is: Thou knowest the valour of Segasto, Spread through all the kingdom of Aragon, And such as hath found triumph and favours, Neuer daunted at any time. But now, A shepherd admirèd at in court for Worthiness, and Segasto’s honour laid Aside. My will therefore is this, that thou Dost find some means to work the shepherd’s death. I know thy strength sufficient to perform My desire, and thy love no otherwise Than to revenge my injuries. Tremelio

It is not the frowns of a shepherd that Tremelio fears. Therefore, account it accomplished what I take in hand.

 Segasto Thanks, good Tremelio, and assure thyself, What I promise that I will perform. Tremelio Thanks, good my lord, and in good time See where he cometh. Stand by a while, And you shall see me put in practice your Intended drift— Enter Mucedorus. Have at thee, swain, if that I hit thee right! Mucedorus Vild coward, so without cause to strike a man! Turn, coward, turn; now strike and do thy worst! Mucedorus killeth him. Segasto Hold, shepherd, hold! Spare him, kill him not! Accursed villain, tell me, what hast thou done? Ah, Tremelio, trusty Tremelio, I sorrow for thy death. And since that thou Living didst prove faithful to Segasto, So Segasto, now living, will honour The dead corpse of Tremelio with revenge. Bloodthirsty villain, born and bred In merciless murder, tell me, how durst thou be So bold as once to lay thy hands upon The least of mine? Assure thyself, Thou shalt be used according to the law! Mucedorus Segasto, cease; these threats are needless. Accuse me not of murder, that have done Nothing but in mine own defence. Segasto Nay, shepherd, reason not with me. I’ll manifest thy fact unto the king, Whose doom will be thy death, as thou deserv’st.

What ho, Mouse, come away!

 Enter Mouse. Mouse

Why, how now, what’s the matter? I thought you would be calling before I had done.

 Segasto

Come help away with my friend.

 Mouse

Why, is he drunk? Cannot he stand on his feet?

 Segasto

No, he is not drunk. He is slain.

 Mouse

Flain? No, by Lady, he is not flain.

 Segasto

He’s killed, I tell thee.

 Mouse

What, do you use to kill your friends? I will serve you no longer.

 Segasto

I tell thee, the shepherd killed him.

 Mouse

Oh, did a so? But, master, I will have all his apparel if I carry him away?

 Segasto

Why, so thou shalt.

 Mouse

Come, then, I will help. Mass, master, I think his mother sung looby to him, he is so heavy.

 Exeunt Segasto and Mouse with Tremelio’s body. Mucedorus Behold the fickle state of man: always mutable, never at one. Sometimes we feed our fancies with the sweet of our desires; Sometimes again we feel the heat of extreme misery. Now am I in favour about the court and country, Tomorrow those favours will turn to frowns. Today I live, revengèd on my foe; Tomorrow I die, my foe revenged on me. Exit.
Scene 7 Enter Bremo, a wild man. Bremo No passengers this morning? What, not one? A chance that seldom doth befall. What, not one? Then lie thou there, And rest thyself till I have further need. Lays down his club. Now, Bremo, sith thy leisure so affords An endless thing— Who knows not Bremo’s strength, Who, like a king, commands within these woods? The bear, the boar, dare not abide my sight, But haste away to save themselves by flight. The crystal waters in the bubbling brooks, When I come by, doth swiftly slide away, And clap themselves in closets under banks, Afraid to look bold Bremo in the face. The agèd oaks at Bremo’s breath doth bow, And all things else are still at my command. Else what would I? Rend them in pieces and pluck them from the earth, And each way else I would revenge myself. Why, who comes here with whom I dare not fight? Who fights with me and doth not die the death? Not one. What favour shows this sturdy stick to those That here within these woods are combatants with me? Why, death, and nothing else but present death. With restless rage I wander through these woods; No creature here but feareth Bremo’s force, Man, woman, child, beast, and bird, And everything that doth approach my sight, Are forced to fall if Bremo once do frown. Come, cudgel, come, my partner in my spoils, Picks up his club. For here I see this day it will not be; But, when it falls that I encounter any, One pat sufficeth for to work my will. What, comes not one? Then let’s begone; A time will serve when we shall better speed. Exit.
Scene 8 Enter the King of Aragon, Segasto, Mucedorus, and Mouse, with others. Aragon Shepherd, thou hast heard thine accusers; Murder is laid to thy charge. What canst thou say? Thou hast deservèd death. Mucedorus Dread sovereign, I must needs confess, I slew this captain in mine own defence, Not of any malice, but by chance; But mine accuser hath a further meaning. Segasto Words will not here prevail; I seek for justice, and justice craves his death. Aragon Shepherd, thine own confession hath condemnèd thee.

Sirrah, take him away, and do him to execution straight.

 Mouse

So he shall, I warrant him. But, do you hear, Master King, he is kin to a monkey, his neck is bigger than his head.

 Segasto

Come, sirrah, away with him, and hang him about the middle.

 Mouse

Yes, forsooth, I warrant you. Come on, sirrah. Ah, so like a sheep-biter a looks.

 Enter Amadine, and a boy with a bear’s head. Amadine Dread sovereign and well-belovèd sire, On bended knees I crave the life of this Condemnèd shepherd, which heretofore preserved The life of thy sometime distressèd daughter. Aragon Preserved the life of my sometime distressèd daughter? How can that be? I never knew the time Wherein thou wast distressed; I never knew the day But that I have maintainèd thy estate As best beseemed the daughter of a king. I never saw the shepherd until now. How comes it then that he preserved thy life? Amadine Once walking with Segasto in the woods, Further than our accustomed manner was, Right before us, down a steep-fall hill, A monstrous, ugly bear did hie him fast To meet us both. Now, whether this be true, I refer it to the credit of Segasto. Segasto Most true, an’t like your majesty. Aragon How then? Amadine The bear, being eager to obtain his prey, Made forward to us with an open mouth As if he meant to swallow us both at once, The sight whereof did make us both to dread, But ’specially your daughter Amadine, Who—for I saw no succour incident But in Segasto’s valour—I grew desperate, And he most cowardlike began to fly, Left me distressed to be devoured of him. How say you, Segasto? Is it not true? Aragon His silence verifies it to be true. What then? Amadine Then I, amazed, distressèd, all alone, Did hie me fast to ’scape that ugly bear; But all in vain, forwhy he reachèd after me, And hardly I did oft escape his paws, Till at the length this shepherd came And brought to me his head. Come hither, boy; lo, here it is, Which I present unto your majesty. Aragon The slaughter of this bear deserves great fame. Segasto The slaughter of a man deserves great blame. Aragon Indeed, occasion oftentimes so falls out. Segasto Tremelio in the wars, O king, preservèd thee. Amadine The shepherd in the woods, O king, preservèd me. Segasto Tremelio fought when many men did yield. Amadine So would the shepherd, had he been in field. Mouse

Aside So would my master, had he not run away.

 Segasto Tremelio’s force saved thousands from the foe. Amadine The shepherd’s force hath savèd thousands mo. Mouse

Aside Aye, shipsticks, nothing else.

 Aragon Segasto, cease to accuse the shepherd. His worthiness deserves a recompence; All we are bound to do the shepherd good. Shepherd, whereas it was my sentence thou shouldst die, So shall my sentence stand, for thou shalt die. Segasto Thanks to your majesty. Aragon But soft, Segasto, not for this offence. To Mucedorus Long mayst thou live. To Segasto And when the Sisters shall decree To cut in twain the twisted thread of life, Then let him die. To Mucedorus For this, I set thee free, And for thy valour I will honour thee. Mucedorus Thanks to your majesty. Aragon

Come, daughter, let us now depart to honour the worthy valour of the shepherd with our rewards.

 Exeunt King of Aragon, Amadine, Mucedorus, and others. Mouse

O master, hear you! You have made a fresh hand now, I thought you would, beshrew you! What will you do now? You have lost me a good occupation by the means. Faith, master, now I cannot hang the shepherd, I pray you, let me take the pains to hang you; it is but half an hour’s exercise.

 Segasto

You are still in your knavery. But, sith I cannot have his life, I will procure his banishment forever. Come on, sirrah.

 Mouse

Yes, forsooth, I come. Aside Laugh at him, I pray you.

 Exeunt.
Scene 9 Enter Mucedorus solus. Mucedorus From Amadine and from her father’s court, With gold and silver and with rich rewards, Flowing from the banks of golden treasures— More may I boast and say, but I Was never shepherd in such dignity. Enter a messenger and Mouse. Messenger

All hail, worthy shepherd.

 Mouse

All rain, lousy shepherd.

 Mucedorus Welcome, my friends. From whence come you? Messenger

The king and Amadine greet thee well, and after greeting done, bids thee depart the court. Shepherd, begone.

 Mouse

Shepherd, take law-legs; fly away, shepherd!

 Mucedorus Whose words are these? Came these from Amadine? Messenger

Aye, from Amadine.

 Mouse

Aye, from Amladine.

 Mucedorus Ah, luckless fortune, worse than Phaethon’s tale! My former bliss is now become my bale. Mouse

What, wilt thou poison thyself?

 Mucedorus My former heaven is now become my hell. Mouse

The worst alehouse that ever I came in, in all my life.

 Mucedorus What shall I do? Mouse

Even go hang thyself half an hour.

 Mucedorus Can Amadine so churlishly command To banish the shepherd from her father’s court? Messenger

What should shepherds do in the court?

 Mouse

What should shepherds do amongst us? Have we not lords enough on us in the court?

 Mucedorus Why, shepherds are men, and kings are no more. Messenger

Shepherds are men, and masters over their flocks.

 Mouse

That’s a lie. Who pays them their wages, then?

 Messenger

Well, you are always interrupting of me, but you were best to look to him lest you hang for him when he is gone.

 Exit. Mouse Singing And you shall hang for company, For leaving me alone.

Speaking Shepherd, stand forth and hear my sentence. Shepherd, begone within three days in pain of my displeasure.

Singing Shepherd begone, shepherd begone, Begone, begone, begone, Shepherd, shepherd, shepherd. Exit. Mucedorus And must I go? And must I needs depart? Ye goodly groves, partakers of my songs In time tofore when fortune did not frown, Pour forth your plaints and wail awhile with me. And thou, bright sun, my comfort in the cold, Hide, hide thy face, and leave me comfortless. Ye wholesome herbs and sweet-smelling savours, Yea, each thing else prolonging life of man, Change, change your wonted course, that I, Wanting your aid, in woeful sort may die. Enter Amadine and Ariena, her maid. Amadine Ariena, if anybody ask For me, make some excuse till I return. Ariena What and Segasto call? Amadine Do thou the like to him; I mean not to stay long. Exit Ariena. Mucedorus This voice so sweet my pining spirit revives. Amadine Shepherd, well met; tell me how thou dost. Mucedorus I linger life, yet wish for speedy death. Amadine Shepherd, although thy banishment already Be decreed, and all against my will, Yet Amadine— Mucedorus Ah, Amadine, to hear of banishment Is death, aye, double death to me. But, since I must depart, one thing I crave. Amadine Say on with all my heart. Mucedorus That in absence, either far or near, You honour me as servant with your name. Amadine Not so. Mucedorus And why? Amadine I honour thee as sovereign with my heart. Mucedorus A shepherd and a sovereign nothing like. Amadine Yet like enough where there is no dislike. Mucedorus Yet great dislike, or else no banishment. Amadine Shepherd, it is only Segasto that Procures thy banishment. Mucedorus Unworthy wights are more in jealousy. Amadine Would God they would free thee from banishment, Or likewise banish me. Mucedorus Amen, say I, to have your company. Amadine Well, shepherd, sith thou suff’rest this for my sake, With thee in exile also let me live. On this condition, shepherd, thou canst love. Mucedorus No longer love, no longer let me live. Amadine Of late I lovèd one indeed; Now love I none but only thee. Mucedorus Thanks, worthy princess. I burn likewise, yet smother up the blast; I dare not promise what I may perform. Amadine Well, shepherd, hark what I shall say: I will return unto my father’s court, There for to provide me of such necess’ries As for our journey I shall think most fit. This being done, I will return to thee. Do thou therefore appoint the place Where we may meet. Mucedorus Down in the valley where I slew the bear, And there doth grow a fair, broad-branchèd beech That overshades a well; so who comes first, Let them abide the happy meeting of us both. How like you this? Amadine I like it very well. Mucedorus Now, if you please, you may appoint the time. Amadine Full three hours hence, God willing, I will return. Mucedorus The thanks that Paris gave the Grecian queen, The like doth Mucedorus yield. Amadine Then, Mucedorus, for three hours farewell. Exit. Mucedorus Your departure, lady, breeds a privy pain. Exit.
Scene 10 Enter Segasto solus. Segasto ’Tis well, Segasto, that thou hast thy will. Should such a shepherd, such a simple swain As he, eclipse thy credit famous through The court? No, ply, Segasto, ply; Let it not in Aragon be said A shepherd hath Segasto’s honour won. Enter Mouse, calling his master. Mouse

What ho, master, will you come away?

 Segasto

Will you come hither, I pray you? What’s the matter?

 Mouse

Why, is it not past eleven o’clock?

 Segasto

How then, sir?

 Mouse

I pray you, come away to dinner.

 Segasto

I pray you, come hither.

 Mouse

Here’s such ado with you! Will you never come?

 Segasto

I pray you, sir, what news of the message I sent you about?

 Mouse

I tell you, all the messes be on the table already. There wants not so much as a mess of mustard half an hour ago.

 Segasto

Come, sir, your mind is all upon your belly. You have forgotten what I bid you do.

 Mouse

Faith, I know nothing but you bade me go to breakfast.

 Segasto

Was that all?

 Mouse

Faith, I have forgotten it. The very scent of the meat hath made me forget it quite.

 Segasto

You have forgotten the errand I bid you do.

 Mouse

What arrant? An arrant knave, or an arrant whore?

 Segasto

Why, thou knave, did I not bid thee banish the shepherd?

 Mouse

Oh, the shepherd’s bastard.

 Segasto

I tell thee, the shepherd’s banishment.

 Mouse

I tell you, the shepherd’s bastard shall be well kept; I’ll look to it myself. But, I pray you, come away to dinner.

 Segasto

Then you will not tell me whether you have banished him or no?

 Mouse

Why, I cannot say banishment and you would give me a thousand pounds to say so.

 Segasto

Why, you whoreson slave, have you forgotten that I sent you and another to drive away the shepherd?

 Mouse

What an ass are you! Here’s a stir indeed! Here’s message, arrant, banishment, and I cannot tell what!

 Segasto

I pray you, sir, shall I know whether you have drove him away?

 Mouse

Faith, I think I have; and you will not believe me, ask my staff.

 Segasto

Why, can thy staff tell?

 Mouse

Why, he was with me too.

 Segasto

Then happy I that have obtained my will.

 Mouse

And happier I, if you would go to dinner.

 Segasto

Come, sirrah, follow me.

 Mouse

I warrant you, I will not lose an inch of you now, you are going to dinner! Aside I promise you, I thought seven year before I could get him away.

 Exeunt.
Scene 11 Enter Amadine solus. Amadine God grant my long delay procures no harm, Nor this—my tarrying—frustrate my pretense. My Mucedorus surely stays for me And thinks me overlong; at length I come, My present promise to perform. Ah, what a thing is firm, unfeignèd love! What is it which true love dares not attempt? My father, he may make, but I must match; Segasto loves, but Amadine must like Where likes her best. Compulsion is a thrall; No, no, the hearty choice is all in all, The shepherd’s virtue Amadine esteems. But what? Methinks my shepherd is not come. I muse at that; the hour is sure at hand. Well, here I’ll rest till Mucedorus come. She sits down. Enter Bremo looking about, hastily takes hold of her. Bremo A happy prey! Now, Bremo, feed on flesh. Dainties, Bremo, dainties, thy hungry panch to fill; Now glut thy greedy guts with lukewarm blood. To Amadine Come fight with me; I long to see thee dead. Amadine How can she fight that weapons cannot wield? Bremo What, canst not fight? Then lie thee down and die. Amadine What, must I die? Bremo What needs these words? I thirst to suck thy blood. Amadine Yet pity me, and let me live a while. Bremo No pity I; I’ll feed upon thy flesh And tear thy body piecemeal joint from joint. Amadine Ah, how I want my shepherd’s company! Bremo I’ll crush thy bones betwixt two oaken trees. Amadine Haste, shepherd, haste, or else thou com’st too late. Bremo I’ll suck the sweetness from thy marrow-bones. Amadine Ah, spare! Ah, spare to shed my guiltless blood! Bremo With this my bat will I beat out thy brains. Down, down, I say; prostrate thyself upon the ground. Amadine Then, Mucedorus, farewell; my hopèd joys, farewell; Yea, farewell life, and welcome present death. She kneels. To thee, O God, I yield my dying ghost. Bremo Aside Now, Bremo, play thy part. How now, what sudden chance is this? My limbs do tremble and my sinews shake; My unweakened arms hath lost their former force. Ah, Bremo, Bremo, what a foil hast thou, That yet at no time ever wast afraid To dare the greatest gods to fight with thee, And now wants strength for one down driving blow? He strikes. Ah, how my courage fails when I should strike! Some new-come spirit abiding in my breast Saith, Spare her, Bremo, spare her, do not kill! Shall I spare her which never spared any? To it, Bremo, to it; say again— I cannot wield my weapon in my hand. Methinks I should not strike so fair a one; I think her beauty hath bewitched my force, Or else within me altered nature’s course. To Amadine Ay, woman! Wilt thou live in woods with me? Amadine Fain would I live, yet loath to live in woods. Bremo Thou shalt not choose; it shall be as I say, And therefore follow me. Exeunt.
Scene 12 Enter Mucedorus solus. Mucedorus It was my will an hour ago and more, As was my promise, for to make return, But other business hindered my pretense. It is a world to see when man appoints And purposely one certain thing decrees, How many things may hinder his intent. What one would wish, the same is farthest off. But yet th’appointed time cannot be past, Nor hath her presence yet prevented me. Well, here I’ll stay, and expect her coming. They cry within, Hold him! Stay him! Hold! Someone or other is pursued, no doubt; Perhaps some search for me. ’Tis good to doubt the worst; therefore I’ll be gone. Exit. Cry within, Hold him, hold him! Enter Mouse with a pot. Mouse

Hold him, hold him, hold him! Here’s a stir indeed! Here came hue after the crier, and I was set close at Mother Nip’s house, and there I called for three pots of ale, as ’tis the manner of us courtiers. Now, sirrah, I had taken the maidenhead of two of them. Now, as I was lifting up the third to my mouth, there came, Hold him, hold him! Now, I could not tell whom to catch hold on, but I am sure I caught one—perchance a may be in this pot. Well, I’ll see. Mass, I cannot see him yet. Well, I’ll look a little further. Mass, he is a little slave if a be here! Why, here’s nobody! All this goes well yet, but if the old trot should come for her pot? Aye, marry, there’s the matter. But I care not; I’ll face her out, and call her old rusty, dusty, musty, fusty, crusty firebrand, and worse than all that, and so face her out of her pot. But soft, here she comes.

 Enter the Old Woman. Old Woman

Come, you knave! Where’s my pot, you knave?

 Mouse

Go look your pot! Come not to me for your pot, ’twere good for you.

 Old Woman

Thou liest, thou knave, thou hast my pot!

 Mouse

You lie, and you say it. I, your pot? I know what I’ll say—

 Old Woman

Why, what wilt thou say?

 Mouse

But say I have it, and thou darest.

 Old Woman

Why, thou knave, thou hast not only my pot, but my drink unpaid for!

 Mouse

You lie like an old— I will not say whore.

 Old Woman

Dost thou call me whore? I’ll cap thee for my pot.

 Mouse

Cap me and thou darest! Search me whether I have it or no.

 She searcheth him, and he drinketh over her head, and casteth down the pot; she stumbleth at it, then they fall together by the ears. She takes up her pot and goes out. Enter Segasto. Segasto

How now, sirrah, what’s the matter?

 Mouse

Oh, flies, master, flies.

 Segasto

Flies? Where are they?

 Mouse

Oh, here, master, all about your face.

 Segasto

Why, thou liest; I think thou art mad.

 Mouse

Why, master, I have killed a dung-cart full at the least.

 Segasto

Go to, sirrah. Leaving this idle talk, give ear to me.

 Mouse

How, give you one of my ears? Not and you were ten masters!

 Segasto

Why, sir, I bid you give ear to my words.

 Mouse

I tell you, I will not be made a curtal for no man’s pleasure.

 Segasto

I tell thee, attend what I say. Go thy ways straight and rear the whole town.

 Mouse

How, rear the whole town? Even go yourself, it is more than I can do. Why do you think I can rear a town, that can scarce rear a pot of ale to my head? I should rear a town, should I not?

 Segasto

Go to the constable and make a privy search, for the shepherd is run away with the king’s daughter.

 Mouse

How, is the shepherd run away with the king’s daughter, or is the king’s daughter run away with the shepherd?

 Segasto

I cannot tell, but they are both gone together.

 Mouse

What a fool is she to run away with the shepherd! Why, I think I am a little handsomer man than the shepherd myself. But tell me, master, must I make a privy search, or search in the privy?

 Segasto

Why, dost thou think they will be there?

 Mouse

I cannot tell.

 Segasto

Well, then search everywhere; leave no place unsearched for them.

 Exit. Mouse

Oh, now am I in office! Now will I to that old firebrand’s house, and will not leave one place unsearched— nay, I’ll to her ale-stand, and drink as long as I can stand, and when I have done, I’ll let out all the rest to see if he be not hid in the barrel, and if I find him not there, I’ll to the cupboard. I’ll not leave one corner of her house unsearched. I’faith, ye old crust, I will be with you now.

 Exit.
Scene 13 Sound music. Enter the King of Valencia, Anselmo, Roderigo, Lord Barachius, with others. Valencia Enough of music, it but adds to torment; Delights to vexèd spirits are as dates Set to a sickly man, which rather cloy than comfort. Let me entreat you to entreat no more. Roderigo Let your strings sleep; have done there. Let the music cease. Valencia Mirth to a soul disturbed are embers turned, Which sudden gleam with molestation, But sooner lose their sight for’t. ’Tis gold bestowed 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. Valencia I prithee, speak that thrice. Anselmo The prince, your son, is safe. Valencia Oh, where, Anselmo? Surfeit me with that. Anselmo In Aragon, my liege; And at his ’parture bound my secrecy By his affectious love, not to disclose it. But care of him, and pity of your age, Makes my tongue blab what my breast vowed concealment. Valencia Thou not deceivest me; I ever thought thee what I find thee now, An upright, loyal man. But what desire, or young-fed humour Nursed within his brain, Drew him so privately to Aragon? Anselmo A forcing adamant: Love, mixed with fear and doubtful jealousy, Whether report gilded a worthless trunk, Or Amadine deserved her high extolment. Valencia See our provision be in readiness. Collect us followers of the comeliest hue For our chief guardians; we will thither wend. The crystal eye of heaven shall not thrice wink, Nor the green flood six times his shoulders turn, Till we salute the Aragonian king. Music, speak loudly; now the season’s apt, For former dolours are in pleasure wrapped. Exeunt omnes.
Scene 14 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 feel’st 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; an 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 Mouse. Mouse

Here’s through the woods, and through the woods, to look out a shepherd and a stray king’s-daughter. But soft, who have we here? What art thou?

 Mucedorus

I am an hermit.

 Mouse

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.

 Mouse

Oh, I know thee now! Thou art he 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?

 Mouse

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?

 Mouse

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 towards 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 good will she’s even run away with the shepherd.

 Mucedorus

What manner of man was a? Canst describe him unto me?

 Mouse

’Scribe him? Aye, I warrant you that I can. A was a little, low, broad, tall, narrow, big, well-favoured fellow; a jerkin of white cloth, and buttons 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?

 Mouse

My name is called Master Mouse.

 Mucedorus

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

 Mouse

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

 Mucedorus

Oh, usher of the table!

 Mouse

Nay, I say rusher, and I prove mine 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 strow rushes presently. Therefore, I am a rusher, a high office, I promise ye.

 Mucedorus

But where shall I find you in the court?

 Mouse

Why, where it is best being: either in the kitchen eating, or in the buttery 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

Aye, 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 passage is beset, So that she cannot long escape unknown. 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.
Scene 15 Enter Bremo and Amadine. Bremo Amadine, how like you Bremo and his woods? Amadine Aside As like the woods of Bremo’s cruelty! Though I were dumb and could not answer him, The beasts themselves would with relenting tears Bewail thy savage and unhuman deeds. Bremo My love, why dost thou murmur to thyself? Speak louder, for thy Bremo hears thee not. Amadine My Bremo? No, the shepherd is my love. Bremo Have I not savèd thee from sudden death, Giving thee leave to live, that thou mightst love? And dost thou whet me on to cruelty? Come kiss me, sweet, for all my favours past. Amadine I may not, Bremo, and therefore pardon me. Bremo Aside See how she flings away from me! I will follow and give a rend to her. To Amadine Deny my love? Ah, worm of beauty, I will chastise thee. Come, come, prepare thy head upon the block. Amadine Oh, spare me, Bremo! Love should limit life, Not to be made a murderer of himself. If thou wilt glut thy loving heart with blood, Encounter with the lion or the bear, And, like a wolf, prey not upon a lamb. Bremo Why then dost thou repine at me? If thou wilt love me, thou shalt be my queen. I’ll crown thee with a chaplet made of ivory, And make the rose and lily wait on thee; I’ll rend the burly branches from the oak To shadow thee from burning sun. The trees shall spread themselves where thou dost go, And as they spread, I’ll trace along with thee. Amadine Aside You may, for who but you? Bremo Thou shalt be fed with quails and partridges, With blackbirds, larks, thrushes, and nightingales. Thy drink shalt be goat’s milk and crystal water, Distilled from the fountains and the clearest springs. And all the dainties that the woods afford, I’ll freely give thee to obtain thy love. Amadine Aside You may, for who but you? Bremo The day I’ll spend to recreate my love, With all the pleasures that I can devise; And in the night I’ll be thy bedfellow, And lovingly embrace thee in mine arms. Amadine Aside One may; so may not you. Bremo The satyrs and the wood-nymphs shall attend on thee, And lull thee asleep with music’s sound; And in the morning when thou dost awake, The lark shall sing good-morrow to my queen, And whilst he sings, I’ll kiss mine Amadine. Amadine Aside You may, for who but you? Bremo When thou art up, the wood lanes shall be strewed With violets, cowslips, and sweet marigolds For thee to trample and to trace upon. And I will teach thee how to kill the deer, To chase the hart, and how to rouse the roe, If thou wilt leave to love and honour me. Amadine Aside You may, for who but you? Enter Mucedorus. Bremo To Mucedorus Welcome, sir! An hour ago I looked for such a guest. To Amadine Be merry, wench, we’ll have a frolic feast; Here’s flesh enough for to suffice us both. To Mucedorus Say, sirrah, wilt thou fight, or dost thou yield to die? Mucedorus I want a weapon; how can I fight? Bremo Thou wants a weapon? Why, then thou yield’st to die. Mucedorus I say not so; I do not yield to die. Bremo Thou shalt not choose. I long to see thee dead. Amadine Yet spare him, Bremo, spare him! Bremo Away, I say; I will not spare him. Mucedorus Yet give me leave to speak. Bremo Thou shalt not speak. Amadine Yet give him leave to speak, for my sake. Bremo Speak on, but be not overlong. Mucedorus In time of yore, when men, like brutish beasts, Did lead their lives in loathsome cells and woods And wholly gave themselves to witless will— A rude, unruly rout. Then man to man Became a present prey, then might prevailed, The weakest went to walls; Right was unknown, for wrong was all in all. As men thus livèd in their great outrage, Behold, one Orpheus came, as poets tell, And them from rudeness unto reason brought, Who, led by reason, soon forsook the woods. Instead of caves they built them castles strong; Cities and towns were founded by them then. Glad were they, they found such ease, And in the end they grew to perfect amity. Weighing their former wickedness, They termed the time wherein they livèd then A golden age, a goodly golden age. Now, Bremo, for so I hear thee called, If men which lived tofore as thou dost now— Wild in woods, addicted all to spoil— Returnèd were by worthy Orpheus’ means, Let me, like Orpheus, cause thee to return From murder, bloodshed, and like cruelties. What, should we fight before we have a cause? No, let’s live and love together faithfully. I’ll fight for thee. Bremo Fight for me? Or fight, or else thou diest! Amadine Hold, Bremo, hold! Bremo Away, I say; thou troublest me. Amadine You promised me to make me queen. Bremo I did; I mean no less. Amadine You promisèd that I should have my will. Bremo I did; I mean no less. Amadine Then save this hermit’s life, for he may save us both. Bremo At thy request I’ll spare him, But never any after him. Say, hermit, what canst thou do? Mucedorus I’ll wait on thee, sometime upon thy queen; Such service shalt thou shortly have As Bremo never had. Exeunt.
Scene 16 Enter Segasto, Mouse, and Rumbelo. Segasto

Come, sirs; what, shall I never have you find out Amadine and the shepherd?

 Mouse

And I have been through the woods, and through the woods, and could see nothing but an emmet.

 Rumbelo

Why, I see a thousand emmets. Thou meanest a little one.

 Mouse

Nay, that emmet that I saw was bigger than thou art.

 Rumbelo

Bigger than I? To Segasto What a fool have you to your man. I pray you, master, turn him away.

 Segasto

But dost thou hear, was he not a man?

 Mouse

I think he was, for he said he did lead a salt-seller’s life about the woods.

 Segasto

Thou would’st say a solitary life about the woods.

 Mouse

I think it was so indeed.

 Rumbelo

I thought what a fool thou art.

 Mouse

Thou are a wise man. Why, he did nothing but sleep since he went.

 Segasto

But tell me, Mouse, how did he go?

 Mouse

In a white gown, and a white hat on his head, and a staff in his hand.

 Segasto

I thought so; it was an hermit that walked a solitary life in the woods. Well, get you to dinner, and after, never leave seeking till you bring some news of them, or I’ll hang you both.

 Exit. Mouse

How now, Rumbelo, what shall we do now?

 Rumbelo

Faith, I’ll home to dinner, and afterward to sleep.

 Mouse

Why, then thou wilt be hanged.

 Rumbelo

Faith, I care not, for I know I shall never find them. Well, I’ll once more abroad, and if I cannot find them, I’ll never come home again.

 Mouse I tell thee what, Rumbelo, thou shalt go in at one end of the wood, and I at the other, and we will meet both together in the midst. Rumbelo

Content! Let’s away to dinner.

 Exeunt
Scene 17 Enter Mucedorus solus. Mucedorus Unknown to any, here within these woods With bloody Bremo do I lead my life. The monster, he doth murder all he meets; He spareth none, and none doth him escape. Who would continue, who but only I, In such a cruel cutthroat’s company? Yet Amadine is there; how can I choose? Ah, silly soul, how oftentimes she sits, And sighs, and calls, Come, shepherd, come; Sweet Mucedorus, come and set me free, When Mucedorus, peasant, stands her by— But here she comes. Enter Amadine What news, fair lady, as you walk these woods? Amadine Ah, hermit, none but bad And such as thou knowest. Mucedorus How do you like your Bremo and his woods? Amadine Not my Bremo, nor his Bremo woods. Mucedorus And why not yours? Methinks he loves you well. Amadine I like him not; his love to me is nothing worth. Mucedorus Lady, in this methinks you offer wrong To hate the man that ever loves you best. Amadine Ah, hermit, I take no pleasure in his love, Neither doth Bremo like me best. Mucedorus Pardon my boldness, fair lady; sith we both May safely talk now out of Bremo’s sight, Unfold to me, so if you please, the full discourse How, when, and why you came into these woods And fell into this bloody butcher’s hands. Amadine Hermit, I will. Of late a worthy shepherd I did love— Mucedorus A shepherd, lady? Sure a man unfit to match with you. Amadine Hermit, this is true. And when we had— Mucedorus Stay there; the wild man comes. Refer the rest until another time. Enter Bremo. Bremo What secret tale is this? What whisp’ring have we here? Villain, I charge thee tell thy tale again. Mucedorus If needs I must, lo, here it is again: Whenas we both had lost the sight of thee, It grieved us both, but ’specially thy queen, Who in thy absence evers fears the worst, Lest some mischance befall your royal grace. Shall my sweet Bremo wander through the woods, Toil to and fro for to redress my want, Hazard his life, and all to cherish me? I like not this, quoth she, And thereupon cravèd to know of me, If I could teach her handle weapons well. My answer was I had small skill therein, But gladsome, mighty king, to learn of thee. And this was all. Bremo Was’t so? None can dislike of this. I’ll teach You both to fight, but first, my queen, begin. Here, take this weapon; see how thou canst use it. Amadine This is too big; I cannot wield it in mine arm. Bremo Is’t so? We’ll have a knotty crabtree staff For thee. To Mucedorus But, sirrah, tell me, what say’st thou? Mucedorus With all my heart, I willing am to learn. Bremo Then take my staff and see how thou canst wield it. Mucedorus First teach me how to hold it in mine hand. Bremo Thou hold’st it well. To Amadine Look how he doth, thou mayst the sooner learn. Mucedorus Next tell me how and when ’tis best to strike. Bremo ’Tis best to strike when time doth serve; ’Tis best to lose no time. Mucedorus Aside Then now or never is my time to strike. Bremo And when thou strik’st, be sure thou hit the head. Mucedorus The head? Bremo The very head. Mucedorus Then have at thine! He strikes him down dead. So, lie there and die. A death no doubt according to desert, Or else a worse, as thou deserv’st a worse. Amadine It glads my heart this tyrant’s death to see. Mucedorus Now, lady, it remains in you To end the tale you lately had begun, Being interrupted by this wicked wight. You said you loved a shepherd? Amadine Aye, so I do, and none but only him, And will do still as long as life shall last. Mucedorus But tell me, lady, sith I set you free, What course of life do you intend to take? Amadine I will disguisèd wander through the world Till I have found him out. Mucedorus How if you find your shepherd in these woods? Amadine Ah, none so happy then as Amadine. Mucedorus In tract of time a man may alter much. He disguiseth himself. Say, lady, do you know your shepherd well? Amadine My Mucedorus, hath he set me free? Mucedorus He hath set thee free. Amadine And lived so long unknown to Amadine? Mucedorus Aye, that’s a question whereof you may not be resolved. You know that I am banished from the court? I know likewise each passage is beset So that we cannot long escape unknown. Therefore, my will is this: that we return Right through the thickets to the wild man’s cave, And there awhile live on his provision Until the search and narrow watch be past. This is my counsel, and I think it best. Amadine I think the very same. Mucedorus Come, let’s be gone. Mouse searcheth, and falls over the wild man, and so carries him away. Mouse re-enters and meets Amadine and Mucedorus. Mouse

Nay, soft, sir; are you here? A bots on you, I was like to be hanged for not finding you! We would borrow a certain stray king’s-daughter of you—a wench, a wench, sir, we would have.

 Mucedorus A wench of me? I’ll make thee eat my sword! Mouse

O Lord! Nay, and you are so lusty, I’ll call a cooling card for you. Ho, master! Master, come away quickly!

 Enter Segasto Segasto

What’s the matter?

 Mouse

Look, master: Amadine and the shepherd! O brave!

 Segasto To Amadine What, minion, have I found you out? Mouse

Nay, that’s a lie; I found her out myself.

 Segasto Thou gadding huswife, What cause hadst thou to gad abroad When, as thou know’st, our wedding day so nigh? Amadine Not so, Segasto; no such thing in hand. Show your assurance, then I’ll answer you. Segasto Thy father’s promise my assurance is. Amadine But what he promised he hath not performed. Segasto It rests in thee for to perform the same. Amadine Not I. Segasto And why? Amadine So is my will, and therefore even no. Mouse

Master, with a none, none, no.

 Segasto Ah, wicked villain, art thou here? Mucedorus What needs these words? We weigh them not. Segasto We weigh them not? Proud shepherd, I scorn thy company. Mouse

We’ll not have a corner of thy company.

 Mucedorus I scorn not thee, nor yet the least of thine. Mouse

That’s a lie; a would have killed me with his pugs-nando.

 Segasto This stoutness, Amadine, contents me not. Amadine Then seek another that may you better please. Mucedorus Well, Amadine, it only rests in thee Without delay to make thy choice of three: There stands Segasto; here a shepherd stands; There stands the third. Now make thy choice. Mouse

A lord at the least I am.

 Amadine My choice is made, for I will none but thee. Segasto A worthy mate, no doubt, for such a wife. Mucedorus And Amadine, why wilt thou none but me? I cannot keep thee as thy father did; I have no lands for to maintain thy state. Moreover, if thou mean to be my wife, Commonly this must be thy use: To bed at midnight, up at four, Drudge all day and trudge from place to place, Whereby our daily victual for to win. And last of all, which is the worst of all, No princess then, but plain a shepherd’s wife. Mouse

Then God gi’ you good-morrow, Goody Shepherd.

 Amadine It shall not need; if Amadine do live, Thou shalt be crownèd King of Aragon. Mouse

Oh, master, laugh! When he’s king, then I’ll be a queen!

 Mucedorus Then know that which never tofore was known: I am no shepherd, no Aragonian I, But born of royal blood—my father’s of Valencia king, my mother queen—who for Thy sacred sake took this hard task in hand. Amadine Ah, how I joy! My fortune is so good! Segasto Well, now I see Segasto shall not speed. But, Mucedorus, I as much do joy To see thee here within our court of Aragon As if a kingdom had befallen me this time. I, with my heart, surrender her to thee, He giveth her unto him. And lose what right to Amadine I have. Mouse

What barn’s door, and born where my father was constable? A bots on thee! How dost thee?

 Mucedorus Thanks, Segasto; but yet you levelled at the crown. Mouse

Master, bear this and bear all.

 Segasto

Why so, sir?

 Mouse

He says you take a goose by the crown.

 Segasto Go to, sir; away, post you to the king, Whose heart is fraught with careful doubts. Glad him up, and tell him these good news, And we will follow as fast as we may. Mouse

I go, master! I run, master!

 Exeunt.
Scene 18 Enter the King of Aragon and Collin. Aragon Break, heart, and end my pallid woes! My Amadine, the comfort of my life; How can I joy except she were in sight? Her absence breeds great sorrow to my soul, And with a thunder breaks my heart in twain. Collin Forbear those passions, gentle king, And you shall see ’twill turn unto the best And bring your soul to quiet and to joy. Aragon Such joy as death, I do assure me that, And nought but death, unless of her I hear; And that with speed, I cannot sigh thus long. But what a tumult do I hear within? They cry within, Joy and happiness! Collin I hear a noise of over-passing joy Within the court; my lord, be of good comfort. And here comes one in haste. Enter Mouse running. Mouse

A king, a king, a king!

 Collin

Why, how now, sirrah, what’s the matter?

 Mouse

Oh, ’tis news for a king, ’tis worth money.

 Aragon

Why, sirrah, thou shalt have silver and gold if it be good.

 Mouse

Oh, ’tis good, ’tis good. Amadine—

 Aragon

Oh, what of her? Tell me, and I will make thee a knight.

 Mouse

How, a sprite? No, by lady, I will not be a sprite! Masters, get ye away; if I be a sprite, I shall be so lean I shall make you all afraid.

 Collin

Thou sot, the king means to make thee a gentleman.

 Mouse

Why, I shall want ’parel.

 Aragon

Thou shalt want for nothing.

 Mouse

Then stand away, strike up thyself; here they come.

 Enter Segasto, Mucedorus, and Amadine. Amadine My gracious father, pardon thy disloyal daughter. Aragon

What do mine eyes behold, my daughter Amadine? Rise up, dear daughter, and let these my embracing arms show some token of thy father’s joy, which, ever since thy departure, hath languished in sorrow.

 Amadine

Dear father, never were your sorrows greater than my griefs; never you so desolate as I comfortless. Yet nevertheless, acknowledging myself to be the cause of both, on bended knees I humbly crave your pardon.

 Aragon I’ll pardon thee, dear daughter, But as for him— Amadine Ah, father, what of him? Aragon As sure as I am king and wear the crown, I will revenge on that accursèd wretch. Mucedorus Aside Yet, worthy prince, work not thy will in wrath. To Aragon Show favour. Aragon Aye, such favour as thou deserv’st. Mucedorus I do deserve the daughter of a king. Aragon Oh impudent! A shepherd, and so insolent? Mucedorus No shepherd I, but a worthy prince. Aragon In fair conceit, not princely born. Mucedorus Yes, princely born: my father is a king, My mother queen, and of Valencia both. Aragon What, Mucedorus? Welcome to our court! What cause hadst thou to come to me disguised? Mucedorus No cause to fear, I causèd no offence but this: Desiring thy daughter’s virtues for to see, Disguised myself from out my father’s court Unknown to any; in secret I did rest, And passèd many troubles near to death. So hath your daughter my partaker been, As you shall know hereafter more at large; Desiring you, you will give her to me Even as mine own and sovereign of my life. Then shall I think my travels are well spent. Aragon With all my heart, but this: Segasto claims my promise made tofore, That he should have her as his only wife, Before my council when we came from war. Segasto, may I crave thee let it pass, And give Amadine as wife to Mucedorus? Segasto With all my heart, were it a far greater thing; And what I may to furnish up their rites With pleasing sports and pastimes, you shall see. Aragon Thanks, good Segasto. I will think of this. Mucedorus Thanks, good my lord. And while I live, Account of me in what I can or may. Amadine And good Segasto, these great courtesies Shall not be forgot. Mouse

Why, hark you, master! Bones, what have you done? What, given away the wench you made me take such pains for? You are wise indeed! Mass, and I had known of that, I would have had her myself. Faith, master, now we may go to breakfast with a woodcock pie!

 Segasto

Go, sir, you were best to leave this knavery.

 Aragon Come on, my lords, let’s now to court Where we may finish up the joyfullest day That ever happed to a distressèd king. Were but thy father, the Valencia lord, Present in view of this combining knot— A shout within. Enter a messenger. What shout was that? Messenger

My lord, the great Valencia king, newly arrived, entreats your presence.

 Mucedorus My father? Aragon Prepare welcomes, give him entertainment! A happier planet never reigned than that Which governs at this hour. Sound. Enter the King of Valencia, Anselmo, Rodrigo, Barachius, with others. The King of Valencia runs and embraces his son. Valencia To Mucedorus Rise, honour of my age, food to my rest! To Aragon Condemn not, mighty King of Aragon, My rude behaviour, so compelled by nature, That manners stood unacknowledged. Aragon What we have to recite would tedious prove By declaration; therefore, in and feast! Tomorrow the performance shall explain What words conceal. Till then, drums speak, bells ring; Give plausive welcomes to our brother king. Sound drums and trumpets. Exeunt omnes.
Epilogue Enter Comedy and Envy. Comedy How now, Envy? What, blushest thou already? Peep forth; hide not thy head with shame, But with a courage praise a woman’s deeds. Thy threats were vain; thou couldst do me no hurt. Although thou seem’st to cross me with despite, I overwhelmed and turnèd upside down thy blocks, And made thyself to stumble at the same. Envy Though stumbled, yet not overthrown. Thou canst not draw my heart to mildness; Yet must I needs confess, thou hast done well And played thy part with mirth and pleasant glee. Say all this, yet canst thou not conquer me; Although this time thou hast got— Yet not the conquest neither. A double revenge another time I’ll have. Comedy Envy, spit thy gall! Plot, work, contrive; create new fallacies; Team from thy womb each minute a black traitor Whose blood and thoughts have twin conception; Study to act deeds yet unchronicled; Cast native monsters in the molds of men; Case vicious devils under sancted rochets; Unhasp the wicket where all perjureds roost; And swarm this ball with treasons. Do thy worst! Thou canst not, hellhound, cross my steer tonight, Nor blind that glory where I wish delight. Envy I can, I will. Comedy Nefarious hag, begin! And let us tug till one the mast’ry win. Envy Comedy, thou art a shallow goose; I’ll overthrow thee in thine own intent, And make thy fall my comic merriment. Comedy Thy policy wants gravity; thou art Too weak. Speak, fiend, as how? Envy Why, thus: From my foul study will I hoist a wretch, A lean and hungry meagre cannibal Whose jaws swell to his eyes with chawing malice, And him I’ll make a poet. Comedy What’s that to th’ purpose? Envy This scrambling raven with his needy beard Will I whet on to write a comedy, Wherein shall be composed dark sentences Pleasing to factious brains; And every other where place me a jest, Whose high abuse shall more torment than blows. Then I myself, quicker than lightning, Will fly me to a puissant magistrate, And, waiting with a trencher at his back, In midst of jollity, rehearse those galls, With some additions, So lately vented in your theatre. He, upon this, cannot but make complaint To your great danger, or at least restraint. Comedy Ha, ha, ha! I laugh to hear thy folly. This is a trap for boys, not men, nor such Especially deceitful in their doings, Whose staid discretion rules their purposes. I and my faction do eschew those vices. But see, oh, see! The weary sun for rest Hath lain his golden compass to the west, Where he perpetual bide and ever shine, As David’s offspring, in his happy clime. Stoop, Envy, stoop; bow to the earth with me. Let’s beg our pardon on our bended knee. They kneel. Envy My power has lost her might; Envy’s date’s expired. Yon splendant majesty hath felled my sting, And I amazèd am. Fall down and quake. Comedy Glorious and wise arch-Caesar on this earth, At whose appearance Envy’s stroken dumb And all bad things cease operation, Vouchsafe to pardon our unwilling error, So late presented to your gracious view, And we’ll endeavour with excess of pain To please your senses in a choicer strain. Thus we commit you to the arms of night, Whose spangled carcass would, for your delight, Strive to excel the day. Be blessèd, then; Who other wishes, let him never speak. Envy Amen. To fame and honour we commend your rest; Live still more happy, every hour more blessed.
FINIS.