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 & the woodnymphs shall attend on thee
And lull thee a sleep with music's sound,
And in the morning when thou dost awake,
The lark shall sing good morn to my queen,
And whilst he sings, I'll kiss my Amadine.

AMADINE.
[Aside.]  You may, for who but you?

BREMO.
When thou art up, the wood lanes shall be strawed
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 live to love and honour me.

AMADINE.
[Aside.]  You may, for who but you?

[Enter Mucedorus.]

BREMO.
Welcome, sir,
An hour ago I looked for such a guest.
Be merry, wench, we'll have a frolic feast:
Here's flesh enough to suffice us both.
Stay, sirra, wilt thou fight or dost thou yeel to die?

MUCEDORUS.
I want a weapon; how can I fight?

BREMO.
Thou wants a weapon? why then thou yeelst 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 over long.

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 lived in this 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 lived 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,
Wily in wood, addicted all to spoil,
Returned were by worthy Orpheus' means,
Let me like Orpheus cause thee to return
From murder, bloodshed and like cruelty.
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 die:  or fight or else thou diest.

AMADINE.
Hold, Bremo, hold!

BREMO.
Away, I say, thou troublest me.

AMADINE.
You promised me to make me your queen.

BREMO.
I did, I mean no less.

AMADINE.
You promised 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 the queen.  Such
Service shalt thou shortly have as Bremo never had.

[Exeunt.]


ACT IV. SCENE IV. The Court.

[Enter Segasto, the Clown, and ROMBELO.]

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 emet.

ROMBELO.
Why, I see thousand emets; thou meanest a little one?

MOUSE.
Nay, that emet that I saw was bigger than thou art.

ROMBELO.
Bigger than I? 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 saltseller
life about the woods.

SEGASTO.
Thou wouldest say a solitary life about the woods.

MOUSE.
I think it was so, indeed.

ROMBELO.
I thought what a fool thou art.

MOUSE.
Thou art 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 a 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, Rombelo? what shall we do now?

ROMBELO.
Faith, I'll home to dinner, and afterward to sleep.

MOUSE.
Why, then, thou wilt be hanged.

ROMBELO.
Faith, I care not, for i know I shall never find them:
well, I'll once more abroad, & if I cannot find them,
I'll never come home again.

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

ROMBELO.
Content! let's away to dinner.

[Exeunt.]


ACT V. SCENE I. The Forest.

[Enter Mucedorus solus.]

MUCEDORUS.
Unknown to any here within these woods
With bloody Bremo do I led my life.
The monster, he doth murther 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 often times she sits
And sighs, and calls:  'come, shepherd, come,
Sweet Mucedorus, come and set me free;
When Mucedorus present stands her by:
But here she comes.

[Enter Amadine.]

What news, fair Lady, as you walk these woods.

AMADINE.
Ah, hermit, none but bad & such as thou knowest.

MUCEDORUS.
How do you like your Bremo and his woods?

AMADINE.
Not my Bremo nor Bremo his woods.

MUCEDORUS.
And why not yours? me thinks he loves you well.

AMADINE.
I like him not, his love to me is nothing worth.

MUCEDORUS.
Lady, in this me thinks you offer wrong,
To hate the man that ever loves you best.

AMADINE.
Ah hermit, I take no pleasure in his love;
Neither yet 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, if so 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 whispering have we here?
Villain, I charge thee tell thy tale again.

MUCEDORUS.
If needs I must, lo, here it is again:
When as we both had lost the sight of thee,
It grieved us both, but specially thy queen,
Who in thy absence ever fears the worst,
Least 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 craved to know of me
If I could teach her handle weapons well.
My answer was I had small skill therein,
But glad, most mighty king, to learn of thee.
And this was all.

BREMO.
Wast 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 my arm.

BREMO.
Ist so? we'll have a knotty crabtree staff
For thee.--But, sirra, tell me, what saist thou?

MUCEDORUS.
With all my heart I willing am to learn.

BREMO.
Then take my staff & see how canst wield it.

MUCEDORUS.
First teach me how to hold it in my hand.

BREMO.
Thou holdest it well.
Look how he doth; thou maist 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 loose no time.

MUCEDORUS.
[Aside.]  Then now or never is my time to strike.

BREMO.
And when thou strikest, be sure thou hit the head.

MUCEDORUS.
The head?

BREMO.
The very head.

MUCEDORUS.
Then have at thine!  [He strikes him down head.]
So, lie there and die,
A death no doubt according to desert,
or else a worse as thou deservest 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 disguised 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.

[He discloseth himself.]

MUCEDORUS.
In tract of time a man may alter much;
Say, Lady, do you know your shepherd well?

AMADINE.
My Mucedorus! hath he set me free?

MUCEDORUS.
Mucedorus he hath set thee free.

AMADINE.
And lived so long unknown to Amadine!

MUCEDORUS.
Aye that's a question where of you may not be resolved.
You know that I am banisht from the court;
I know likewise each passage is best,
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 a while 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 begone.

[Enter the Clown who searches and falls over the wild
man and so carry him away.]

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.
Oh 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 & the shepherd:  oh, brave!

SEGASTO.
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 knowest our wedding day so nigh?

AMADINE.
Not so, Segasto, no such thing in hand;
Shew your assurance, then I'll answer you.

SEGASTO.
Thy father's promise my assurance is.

AMADINE.
But what he promist 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 so.

MOUSE.
Master, with a nonie, nonie, no!

SEGASTO.
Aye, 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
pugsnando.

SEGASTO.
This stoutness, Amadine, contents me not.

AMADINE.
Then seek an other 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 vittel 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 ge you go morrow, goody shepherd!

AMADINE.
It shall not need; if Amadine do live,
Thou shalt be crowned king of Arragon.

MOUSE.
Oh, master, laugh! when he's King, then I'll be a
queen.

MUCEDORUS.
Then know that which ne'er tofore was known:
I am no shepherd, no Arragonian I,
But born of Royal blood--my father's of
Valentia King, my mother queen--who for
Thy secret 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 Arragon,
As if a kingdom had befain me.  This time
I with my heart surrender it to thee.

[He giveth her unto him.]

And loose what right to Amadine I have.

MOUSE.
What a barn's door, and born where my father
Was cunstable! a bots on thee, how dost thee?

MUCEDORUS.
Thanks, Segasto; but yet you leveled 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.]


ACT V. SCENE II. Open Place near the Court of
the King of Arragon.

[Enter the King and Collen.]

KING.
Break, heart, and end my paled woes,
My Amadine, the comfort of my life,
How can I joy except she were in sight?
Her absence breeds sorrow to my soul
And with a thunder breaks my heart in twain.

COLLEN.
Forbear those passions, gentle King,
And you shall see twill turn unto the best,
And bring your soul to quiet and to joy.

KING.
Such joy as death, I do assure me that,
And naught but death, unless of her I hear,
And that with speed; I cannot sigh thus long--
But what a tumult do I hear within?

[The cry within, 'joy and happiness!']

COLLEN.
I hear a noise of over-passing joy
Within the court; my Lord, be of good comfort--
And here comes one in haste.

[Enter the Clown running.]

MOUSE.
A King! a King! a King!

COLLEN.
Why, how now, sirra? what's the matter?

MOUSE.
O, tis news for a king, 'tis worth money.

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

MOUSE.
O, tis good, tis good.  Amadine--

KING.
Oh, what of her? tell me, & I will make thee a knight.

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

COLLEN.
Thou sot, the King means to make thee a gentleman.

MOUSE.
Why, I shall want parrell.

KING.
Thou shalt want for nothing.

MOUSE.
Then stand away, trick up thy self:  here they come.

[Enter Segasto, Mucedorus, and Amadine.]


AMADINE.
My gratious father, pardon thy disloyal daughter.

KING.
What do mine eyes behold? my daughter Amadine?
Rise up, dear daughter & 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 my self
To be the cause of both, on bended knees
I humbly crave your pardon.

KING.
I'll pardon thee, dear daughter:  but as for him--

AMADINE.
Ah, father, what of him?

KING.
As sure as I am a king, and wear the crown,
I will revenge on that accursed wretch.

MUCEDORUS.
Yet, worthy prince, work not thy will in wrath;
Show favour.

KING.
Aye, such favour as thou deservest.

MUCEDORUS.
I do deserve the daughter of a king.

KING.
Oh, impudent! a shepherd and so insolent!

MUCEDORUS.
No shepherd I, but a worthy prince.

KING.
In fair conceit, not princely born.

MUCEDORUS.
Yes, princely born:  my father is a king,
My mother Queen, and of Valentia both.

KING.
What, Mucedorus! welcome to our court.
What cause hadst thou to come to me disguised?

MUCEDORUS.
No cause to fear; I caused no offence
But this:
Desiring thy daughter's virtues for to see
Disguised my self from out my father's court.
Unknown to any, in secret I did rest,
And passed 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.

KING.
With all my heart, but this--
Segasto claims my promise made to fore,
That he should have her as his only wife,
Before my counsel 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 far a greater thing,
And what I may to furnish up there rites
With pleasing sports and pastimes you shall see.

KING.
Thanks, good Segasto, I will think of this.

MUCEDORUS.
Thanks, good my Lord, & 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!
mas, and I had known of that I would have had
her my self! faither, master, now we may go to
breakfast with a woodcoke pie.

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

KING.
Come on, my Lords, let's now to court,
Where we may finish up the joyfullest day
That ever hapt to a distressed 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?

KING OF ARRAGON.
Prepared welcomes give him entertainment:
A happier Planet never reigned than that,
Which governs at this hour.

[Sound.  Enter the King of Valencia, Anselmo, Rodrigo,
Borachius, with others; the King runs and embraces
his Son.]

KING OF VALENCIA.
Rise, honour of my age, food to my rest:
Condemn not mighty King of Aragon
My rude behaviour, so compelled by Nature,
That manners stood unknowledged.

KING OF ARRAGON.
What we have to recite would tedious prove
By declaration; therefore, in, and feast:
To morrow 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 all ready?
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 seemdst to cross me with despite,
I overwhelmed, and turned upside down thy block
And made thy self 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,
Teem from thy Womb each minute a black Traitor,
Whose blood and thoughts have twins 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 hell-hound cross my star to night,
Nor blind that glory, where I wish delight.

ENVY.
I can, I will.

COMEDY.
Nefarious Hag, begin,
And let us tug, till one the mastery 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 Meager 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 compos'd dark sentences,
Pleasing to factious brains:
And every other where place me a Jest,
Whose high abuse shall more torment than blows:
Then I my self (quicker than Lightning)
Will fly me to a puissant magistrate,
And weighting with a Trencher at his back,
In midst of jollity, rehearse those gauls,
(With some additions)
So lately vented in your Theater.
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 desertful in their doings,
Whose stay'd discretion rules their purposes.
I and my faction do eschew those vices.
But see, O see! the weary Sun for rest
Hath lain his golden compass to the West,
Where he perpetual bide and ever shine,
As David's off-spring, in his happy Clime.
Stoop, Envy, stoop, bow to the Earth with me,
Let's beg our Pardons 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 amazed 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 excell the Day; be blessed, 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 blest.


FINIS.