KING OF ARAGON. Come on, my lords, let’s now to court, Where we may finish up the joyfullest day That ever happ’d to a distressed king. Were but thy father, the Valencia lord, Present in view of this combining knot. A shout within; enter a Messenger. What shout was that? MESSENGER. My lord, the great Valencia king, Newly arrived, entreats your presence. MUCEDORUS. My father? KING OF ARAGON. Prepared a welcome; give him entertainment; A happier planet never reign’d than that Which governs at this hour. Sound. Enter the King of Valencia, Anselmo, Rodrigo, Borachius, with others; the King runs and embraces his son. KING OF VALENCIA. Rise honour of my age, food to my rest: Condemn not, mighty King of Aragon, My rude behaviour, so compell’d by nature, That manners stood unacknowledged. KING OF ARAGON. What we have to recite would tedious prove By declaration; therefore in and feast. Tomorrow 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._] EPILOGUE Enter Comedy and Envy. COMEDY. How now, Envy? What, blushest thou already? Peep forth, hide not thy head with shame, But with a courage praise a woman’s deeds. Thy threats were vain, thou couldst do me no hurt, Although thou seem’dst to cross me with despite, I overwhelm’d and turned upside down thy block And made thyself to stumble at the same. ENVY. Though stumbled, yet not overthrown, Thou canst not draw my heart to mildness, Yet must I needs confess, thou hast done well, And play’d thy part with mirth and pleasant glee. Say all this, yet canst thou not conquer me, Although this time thou’st got—yet not the conquest neither, A double revenge another time I’ll have. COMEDY. Envy, spit thy gall; Plot, work, contrive, create new fallacies, Teem from thy womb each minute a black traitor, Whose blood and thoughts have twins conception; Study to act deeds yet unchronicled, Cast native monsters in the moulds of men; Case vicious devils under sainted rochets; Unhasp the wicked where all perjuries roost, And swarm this ball with treasons, do thy worst, Thou canst not, hell-hound, cross my star tonight, Nor blind that glory, where I wish delight. ENVY. I can, I will. COMEDY. Nefarious hag, begin; And let us tug, till one the mastery 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 meager cannibal, Whose jaws swell to his eyes with chawing malice; And him I’ll make a poet. COMEDY. What’s that to the purpose?