_King._ I am at leisure——From whence this Distress in my Breast of late, restless Nights, horrid Visions, affluster’d Spirits fly around my Heart; my prophetick Soul, like _Argus_, discerns Destruction approaching. _Enter_ Dologo. _Dolo._ If it be a Crime to bear ill Tidings, your Majesty’s Goodness will oblige you to pardon. _King._ Speak, speak _Godelmo_, thou art my Friend. _Dolo._ Lord _Darno_ has sold his Effects at home, and is now raising an Army in the Northern Parts of your Majesty’s Dominions; _Darony_ and _Urlandenny_ are set out for the South, with the same Design. _King._ Go, _Dolo._ and bring _Theorbeo_ hither to me. [_Ex._ Dolo.] Oh, who shall deliver me from the Contagions of Mortals! that I had been born in humbler State: Ye rural Shepherds, ye Companions of Angels, I envy you: that I could be like to you, my Ambition only to reach the Top of a Mountain, to lean upon my Staff, there to admire the beautiful Œconomy of the Universe, listen to the Linnets, Larks, and Nightingales, that warble forth their Praise on high; to the Sun they offer up their Joy: these would teach me to be grateful. Of my Lambs, that innocently sport all around me; of them I will learn Humility, and despite your Arrogance: my Dog, that scouts upon the Plain, I’ll compare him with you, and blush for you: he loves more, and is constant, a fervent Friend, will fight till Death for his Master, rises not up against him when he smites him; he’s grateful, he flatters not, and to your shame, has more Compassion; for with his Tongue he’ll heal the Wound of the Oppressed. Ye Rationals, learn of Brutes; and teach me to abhor Mankind. [_Exit._ _Enter_ Theorbeo _and_ Dologodelmo. _King._ _Theorbeo_, you say your desire is to exert yourself in the War, I had much rather you’d stay; what say you? _Theo._ ’Tis my desire, that my Spirits may rouze and shake off these heavy Elements; the shining of my Soul is over-whelm’d with Clouds, I long to discharge this heavy Hail-storm upon the Heads of all your Adversaries. _King._ _Godelmo_, is there any danger? _Dolo._ There is not; when the Enemy hear the King’s Trumpet sound, it will be as when the Lion roareth in the Forest, every Monster’s Heart will tremble, and in a moment fly to their Dens for shelter. _King._ See that Draughts are made out of my Troops, 20,000 of the most proper Men. This moment I’ll review my Army. [_Ex._ King _and_ Theor. _Enter_ Hurlothrumbo, _out of Breath_. _Dolo._ What’s the matter now, my Lord, you seem to be out of Breath? _Hurlo._ Out of Breath! I may well be out of Breath, the Wind may well rise, the Conjurers are all at work, I have a Tempest in my Belly. _Dolo._ Pray let the Storms cease, and let me hear the Cause. _Enter_ King.