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 VALENTIA, ANSELMO, RODRIGO, BARCHEUS, _with others_; _the_ KING _runs and embraces his son_. KING OF VALENTIA. Rise, honour of my age, food to my rest: Condemn not (mighty King of Arragon) My rude behaviour, so compell'd by Nature, That manner 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_. [198] [In the edition of 1610, the conclusion, from this line, is so different, that the best mode appeared to be to give it at the foot of the page:-- COMEDY. Envy, spit thy gall; Plot, work, contrive; create new fallacies; Team from thy womb each minute a black traitor, Whose blood and thoughts have twin conception: Study to act deeds yet unchronicled; Cast native monsters in the moulds 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[A] to-night. [A] [Old copy, _steare_.] Nor blind that glory, where I wish delight. ENVY. I can. I will. COMEDY. Nefarious hag, begin; And let us tug, till one the mast'ry 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 negro [Old copy, _neagre_.] 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 myself (quicker than lightning), Will fly me to a puissant magistrate, And waiting with a trencher at his back, In midst of jollity rehearse those galls [Old copy, _gaules_.] (With some additions) so lately vented in your theatre: He upon this cannot but make complaint, To your great danger, or at least restraint.