_Epi_. No man knowes: some say stung by an Adder As from his horse he fell; some cry, by the Boare. _Anton_. The Boare never came neare him. _Dam_. The King's Physitians! _Cosmo_. Runne for the King's Physitians. _Epi_. Conduct us to him. _Anton_. A fatall hunting when a King doth fall: All earthly pleasures are thus washt in gall. [_Exeunt_. (SCENE 2.) _Eugenius discovered sitting loaden with many Irons, a Lampe burning by him; then enter Clowne with a piece of browne bread and a Carret roote_. _Eugen_. Is this my Dyet? _Clown_. Yes, marry is it; though it be not Dyet bread[156] 'tis bread, 'tis your dinner; and though this be not the roote of all mischiefe yet 'tis a Carret, and excellent good meate if you had powderd Beefe to it. _Eugen_. I am content with this. _Clown_. If you bee not I cannot helpe it; for I am threatned to be hang'd if I set but a Tripe before you or give you a bone to gnaw. _Eugen_. For me thou shalt not suffer. _Clown_. I thank you; but were not you better be no good Christian, as I am, and so fill your belly as to lie here and starve and be hang'd thus in Chaines? _Eugen_. No, 'tis my tryumph; all these Chaines to me Are silken Ribbonds, this course bread a banquet; This gloomy Dungeon is to me more pleasing Than the Kings Palace; and cou'd I winne thy soule To shake off her blacke ignorance, thou, as I doe, Would'st feele thirst, hunger, stripes and Irons nothing, Nay, count death nothing. Let me winne thee to me. _Clown_. Thank yee for that: winne me from a Table full of good meat to leape at a crust! I am no Scholler, and you (they say) are a great one; and schollers must eate little, so shall you. What a fine thing is it for me to report abroad of you that you are no great feeder, no Cormorant! What a quiet life is it when a womans tongue lies still! and is't not as good when a mans teeth lyes still? _Eugen_. Performe what thou art bidden; if thou art charg'd To starve me, Ile not blame thee but blesse heaven. _Clown_. If you were starv'd what hurt were that to you? _Eugen_. Not any; no, not any. _Clown_. Here would be your praise when you should lie dead: they would say, he was a very good man but alas! had little or nothing in him. _Eugen_. I am a slave to any misery My Iudges doome me too. _Clown_. If you bee a slave there's more slaves in the world than you. _Eugen_. Yes, thousands of brave fellows slaves to their vices; The Usurer to his gold, drunkards to Wine, Adulterers to their lust. _Clown_. Right, Sir; so in Trades: the Smith is a slave to the Ironmonger, the itchy silk-weaver to the Silke-man, the Cloth-worker to the Draper, the Whore to the Bawd, the Bawd to the Constable, and the Constable to a bribe. _Eugen_. Is it the kings will that I should be thus chain'd? _Clown_. Yes indeed, Sir. I can tell you in some countries they are held no small fooles that goe in Chaines. _Eugen_. I am heavy.