CLOWN. I go, master; I run, master.
[_Exeunt severally.
Enter the_ KING and COLLEN.
KING. Break, heart, and end my pallid[195] woes!
My Amadine, the comfort of my life,
How can I joy, except she were in sight?
Her absence breedeth sorrow to my soul,
And with a thunder breaks my heart in twain.
COLLEN. Forbear those passions, gentle King,
And you shall see 'twill turn unto the best,
And bring your soul to quiet and to joy.
KING. Such joy as death, I do assure me that,
And nought but death, unless of her I hear,
And that with speed; I cannot sigh thus long—
But what a tumult do I hear within?
[They cry within, Joy and happiness!
COLLEN. I hear a noise of overpassing joy
Within the court. My lord, be of good comfort.
And here comes one in haste.
Enter the CLOWN, running.
CLOWN. A King, a king, a king!