Mucedorus

ACT IV

SCENE I. Valencia. The Court

Sound Music. Enter the King of Valencia, Anselmo, Roderigo, Lord Borachius, with others.

KING OF VALENCIA.
Enough of music, it but adds to torment,
Delights to vexed spirits are as dates
Set to a sickly man, which rather cloy than comfort;
Let me entreat you to repeat no more.

RODERIGO.
Let your strings sleep, have done there.

[Music ceases.]

KING OF VALENCIA.
Mirth to a soul disturb’d are embers turn’d
Which sudden gleam with molestation,
But sooner lose their light for it.
’Tis gold bestow’d upon a rioter,
Which not relieves but murders him; a drug
Given to the healthful, which infects, not cures.
How can a father that hath lost his son,
A prince both virtuous, wise, 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 VALENCIA.
I prythee, speak that twice.

ANSELMO.
The prince, your son, is safe.

KING OF VALENCIA.
O where, Anselmo? Surfeit me with that!

ANSELMO.
In Aragon, my liege;
And at his ’parture bound my secrecy,
By his affection’s loss, 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 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, nurs’d
Within the brain, drew him so privately
To Aragon?

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 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 wrapt.

[Music. Exeunt omnes.]