_Thier._ What speak they? [_Reads._ How all things meet to make me this day happy? See mother, brother, to your reconcilement Another blessing almost equall to it, Is coming towards me; My contracted wife _Ordella_, daughter of wise _Datarick_, The King of _Aragon_ is on our confines; Then to arrive at such a time, when you Are happily here to honor with your presence Our long defer'd, but much wish'd nuptiall, Falls out above expression; Heaven be pleas'd That I may use these blessings powr'd on me With moderation. _Brun._ Hell and furies ayd me, That I may have power to avert the plagues That press upon me. _Thier._ Two dayes journy sayest thou, We will set forth to meet her: in the mean time See all things be prepar'd to entertain her; Nay let me have your companies, there's a Forrest In the midway shall yeild us hunting sport, To ease our travel, I'll not have a brow But shall wear mirth upon it, therefore clear them. We'll wash away all sorrow in glad feasts; And the war we mean to men, we'll make on beasts. [_Exeunt omnes, præter Brun. Bawdber, Portaldy, Lecure._ _Brun._ Oh that I had the Magick to transforme you Into the shape of such, that your own hounds Might tear you peece-meale; Are you so stupid? No word of comfort? have I fed you mothers From my excess of moysture, with such cost And can you yeild no other retribution, But to devour your maker, pandar, sponge, Impoysoner, all grown barren? _Prota._ You your self That are our mover, and for whom alone We live, have fail'd your self in giving way To the reconcilement of your [sonnes]. _Lecure._ Which if You had prevented, or would teach us how They might again be sever'd, we could easily Remove all other hind'rances that stop The passage of your pleasures. _Baud._ And for me, If I fail in my office to provide you Fresh delicat[e]s, hang me. _Brun._ Oh you are dull, and find not The cause of my vexation; Their reconcilement Is a mock castle built upon the sand By children, which when I am pleas'd to o'rethrow, I can with ease spurn down. _Lecure._ If so, from whence Grows your affliction? _Brun._ My grief comes along With the new Queen, in whose grace all my power Must suffer shipwrack: for me now, That hitherto have kept the first, to know A second place, or yeeld the least precedence To any other ['s] death; To have my sleeps Less enquir'd after, or my rising up Saluted with less reverence, or my gates Empty of suitors, or the Kings great favours To pass through any hand but mine, or he Himself to be directed by another, Would be to me: doe you understand me, yet No meanes to prevent this.