Loc.
Now am I guarded with an host of Men,
Whose haughty Courage is invincible;
Now am I hem'd with Troops of Soldiers,
Such as might force Bellona to retire,
And make her tremble at their Puissance.
Now sit I like the mighty God of War,
When armed with his Coat of Adamant,
Mounted his Chariot drawn with mighty Bulls,
He drove the Argives over Xanthus Streams.
Now, cursed Humber, doth thy end draw nigh,
Down goes the Glory of his Victories,
And all his Fame, and all his high Renown,
Shall in a moment yield to Locrine's Sword:
Thy bragging Banners crost with argent Streams,
The Ornaments of thy Pavillions,
Shall all be captivated with this Hand,
And thou thy self, at Albanactus Tomb
Shalt offer'd be, in Satisfaction
Of all the wrongs thou didst him when he liv'd.
But canst thou tell me, brave Thrasimachus,
How far we are distant from Humber's Camp?

Thra.
My Lord, within yon soul accursed Grove,
That bears the Tokens of our overthrow,
This Humber hath intrench'd his damned Camp.
March on, my Lord, because I long to see
The treacherous Scythians squeltring in their gore.

Loc.
Sweet Fortune, favour Locrine with a smile,
That I may venge my noble Brother's Death,

And in the midst of stately Troynovant,
I'll build a Temple to thy Deity
Of perfect Marble, and of Jacinth Stones,
That it shall pass the highest Pyramids,
Which with their top surmount the firmament.

Cam.
The arm-strong Off-spring of the doubted Knight,
Stout Hercules, Alcmena's mighty Son,
That tam'd the Monsters of the three-fold World,
And rid the oppressed from the Tyrants Yokes,
Did never shew such valiantness in Fight,
As I will now for noble Albanact.

Cor.
Full fourscore Years hath Corineius liv'd,
Sometimes in War, sometimes in quiet Peace,
And yet I feel my self to be as strong
As erst I was in Summer of mine Age,
Able to toss this great unwieldy Club,
Which hath been painted with my foe-mens Brains:
And with this Club I'll break the strong array
Of Humber and his stragling Soldiers,
Or lose my Life amongst the thickest press,
And die with Honour in my latest Days:
Yet e'er I die they all shall understand,
What force lyes in stout Corineius Hand.

Thra.
And if Thrasimachus detract the Fight,
Either for weakness or for cowardise,
Let him not boast that Brutus was his Eame,
Or that brave Corineius was his Sire.

Loc.
Then courage, Soldiers, first for your Safety,
Next for your Peace, last for your Victory. [Exeunt. Sound the Alarm. Enter Hubba and Segar at one Door, and Corineius at the other.

Cor.
Art thou that Humber, Prince of Fugitives,
That by thy Treason slew'st young Albanact?

Hub.
I am his Son that slew young Albanact,
And if thou take not heed, proud Phrygian,
I'll send thy Soul unto the Stygian lake,
There to complain of Humber's Injuries.

Cor.
You triumph, Sir, before the Victory,
For Corineius is not so soon slain.
But, cursed Scythians, you shall rue the Day,
That e'er you came into Albania.

So perish they that envy Britain's wealth,
So let them die with endless infamy,
And he that seeks his Soveraign's overthrow,
Would this my Club might aggravate his woe. [Strikes them both down with his Club. Enter Humber.

Hum.
Where may I find some desart Wilderness,
Where I may breathe out curses as I would,
And scare the Earth with my condemning Voice,
Where every Echoes repercussion
May help me to bewail mine overthrow,
And aid me in my sorrowful laments?
Where may I find some hollow uncouth Rock,
Where I may damn, condemn, and ban my fill?
The Heavens, the Hell, the Earth, the Air, the Fire,
And utter curses to the concave Sky,
Which may infect the airy Regions,
And light upon the Briton Locrine's Head.
You ugly Spirits that in Cocitus mourn,
And gnash your Teeth with dolorous laments,
You fearful dogs that in black Lethe howl,
And scare the Ghosts with your wide open throats,
You ugly Ghosts that flying from these dogs,
Do plunge your selves in Puryflegiton,
Come all of you, and with your shrieking notes
Accompany the Britons Conquering Hoast.
Come fierce Erinnys, horrible with Snakes,
Come ugly Furies, armed with your Whips,
You threefold Judges of black Tartarus,
And all the Army of your hellish Fiends,
With new found torments rack proud Locrine's Bones.
O Gods and Stars, damn'd be the Gods and Stars,
That did not drown me in fair Thetis Plains.
Curst be the Sea that with outragious Waves,
With surging Billows did not rive my Ships
Against the Rocks of high Cerannia,
Or swallowed me into her watry Gulf.
Would God he had arriv'd upon the Shore
Where Polyphemus and the Cyclops dwell,
Or where the bloody Anthropophagie
With greedy Jaws devours the wandring Wights.

Enter the Ghost of Albanact.
But why comes Albanactus's bloody Ghost,
To bring a corsive to our miseries!
Is't not enough to suffer shameful flight,
But we must be tormented now with Ghosts?
With Apparitions fearful to behold?

Ghost.
Revenge, revenge for Blood.

Hum.
So, nought will satisfie your wandring Ghost,
But dire revenge, nothing but Humber's fall,
Because he Conquer'd you in Albany.
Now by my Soul, Humber would be condemn'd
To Tantal's Hunger, or Ixion's Wheel,
Or to the Vulture of Prometheus,
Rather than that this Murther were undone.
When as I die I'll drag thy cursed Ghost
Through all the Rivers of foul Erebus,
Through burning Sulphur of the Limbo-lake,
To allay the burning fury of that heat,
That rageth in mine everlasting Soul.

Ghost.
Vindicta, vindicta. [Exeunt.

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