CLOWN. 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. CLOWN. How, rear the 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. CLOWN. 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. CLOWN. What a fool she is 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? CLOWN. I cannot tell. SEGASTO. Well, then, search everywhere; leave no place unsearched for them. [_Exit_. CLOWN. O, 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 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. [Sound music.] Enter the_ KING OF VALENTIA, ANSELMO, RODERIGO, LORD BORACHIUS, _with others_. KING OF VALENTIA. 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 entreat no more. RODERIGO. Let yon strings sleep; have done there. [_Let the music cease_. KING OF VALENTIA. Mirth to a soul disturb'd is[181] embers turn'd, Which sudden gleam with molestation, But sooner lose their sight for it. 'Tis gold bestow'd 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. KING OF VALENTIA. I prythee, speak that thrice. ANSELMO. The prince, your son, is safe. KING OF VALENTIA. O, where, Anselmo? surfeit me with that. ANSELMO. In Arragon, my liege; and at his 'parture, [He] bound my secrecy by his affection's love, 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 VALENTIA. Thou not deceiv'st 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 Arragon?