elf; 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?

ANSELMO. A forcing adamant:
Love, mix'd with fear and doubtful jealousy:
Whether report gilded a worthless trunk,
Or Amadine deserved her high extolment.

KING OF VALENTIA. See our provisio