Mucedorus

Act V

Scene I. The Forest Scene II. Open Place near the Court of the King of Aragon EPILOGUE

Dramatis Personæ

Adrostus, the KING OF ARAGON AMADINE, the King’s daughter of Aragon ARIENA, Amadine’s maid, SEGASTO, a Nobleman of Aragon RUMBELO, a Nobleman of Aragon COLLEN, a Councillor TREMELIO, a Captain MOUSE, the Clown

KING OF VALENCIA MUCEDORUS, the Prince of Valencia ANSELMO, his friend RODERIGO, Nobleman of Valencia BORACHIUS, Nobleman of Valencia BREMO, a wild man

COMEDY ENVY An OLD WOMAN Noblemen, Councillors, a Messenger, a Boy

THE 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 blemish’d traitors, stain’d 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.

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 comes to joy with thee. Joy then, good gentles; I hope to make you laugh. Sound forth Bellona’s silver-tuned strings; Time fits us well, the day and place is ours.

Enter Envy, his arms naked, besmeared with blood.

ENVY. Nay, stay, you minion, stay; 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, besmear’d with gory blood, That seemst to check the blossoms of delight, And stifle the sound of sweet Bellona’s breath; Blush, monster, blush, and post away with shame, That seekest 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 wished sport. I’ll thunder music shall appal the nymphs, And make them shiver their clattering strings, Flying for succour to their dankish caves.

Hark, hearken, thou shalt hear a noise Shall fill the air with a shrilling sound, And thunder music to the gods above: Mars shall himself reach down A peerless crown upon brave Envy’s head, And raise his rival with a lasting fame. In this brave music Envy takes delight, Where I may see them wallow in their blood, And spurn at arms and legs quite shivered off, And hear the cries of many thousands slain. How lik’st thou this, my trull? ’tis sport alone for me!

COMEDY. Vaunt, bloody cur, nurs’d up with tiger’s sap, That so dost seek to quail a woman’s mind! Comedy’s mild, gentle, willing for to please, And seeks to gain the love of all estates, Delights in mirth, mix’d all with lovely tales, And bringeth things with treble joy to pass. Thou bloody, envious ’sdainer of men’s joys, Whose name is fraught with bloody stratagems, Delights in nothing but in spoil and death, Where thou may’st trample in their lukewarm blood, And grasp their hearts within thy cursed paws. Yet veil 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 treat nought else but pleasure and delight. If any spark of human rests in thee, Forbear; begone; 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 joy’st, Turning thy mirth into a deadly dole, Whirling thy measures with a peal of death, And drench thy metres 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, Favoring 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 scorn 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 tread, 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 to monsters, spoiling of their joys.

Act I

SCENE I. Valencia. The Court

Sound. Enter Mucedorus and Anselmo his friend.

MUCEDORUS. Anselmo!

ANSELMO. My lord and friend.

MUCEDORUS. True, my Anselmo, both thy lord and friend—

ANSELMO. Whose dear affections bosom with my heart, And keep their domination in one orb, 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, loth I am to say, I must estrange that friendship; Misconstrue not, ’tis from the realm, not thee: Though lands part bodies, hearts keep company. Thou knowst that I imparted often have Private relations with my royal sire, Had as concerning beautious Amadine, Rich Aragon’s bright jewel, whose face (some say) That blooming lilies never shone so gay, Excelling, not excell’d; yet least report Does mangle verity, boasting of what is not, Wing’d 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 usurped 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 there does hang a cassock, Though base the weed is, ’twas a shepherd’s once, 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.

Better than kings have not disdain’d that state, And much inferiour, to obtain their mate.

Enter Anselmo with a Shepherd’s coat, which he gives to Mucedorus.

MUCEDORUS. So! Let our respect command thy secrecy, And let us take at once a brief farewell; Delay to lovers is a second hell.

ANSELMO. Prosperity forerun thee; awkward chance Never be neighbour to thy wishes’ venture; Content and Fame advance thee; ever thrive, And glory thy mortality survive!

SCENE II. A Forest in Aragon

Enter Mouse with a bottle of hay.

MOUSE. O horrible, terrible! Was ever poor gentleman so scar’d 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 any more. 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 shake hands with some foolish creditor, and make every step backward.

SCENE III. The same

Enter Segasto running, and Amadine after him, being pursued with a bear.

SEGASTO. Oh fly, madam, fly or else we are but dead!

AMADINE. Help, sweet Segasto, help, or else I die!

Continue reading Mucedorus free in the Wunder reader →