SCENE I
Enter Brutus, carried in a chair; Locrine, Camber, Albanact,
Corineus, Guendolen, Assaracus, Debon, and Thrasimachus.
Bru.
Most loyal lords, and faithful followers,
That have with me, unworthy general,
Passed the greedy gulf of Ocean* note,
Leaving the confines of fair Italy,
Behold, your Brutus draweth nigh his end,
And I must leave you, though against my will.
My sinews shrink, my numbed senses fail3 note,
A chilling cold possesseth all my bones;
-- 192 --
Black ugly Death with visage pale and wan
Presents himself before my dazled eyes,
And with his dart prepared is to strike4 note
.
These arms, my lords, these never-daunted arms,
That oft have quell'd the courage of my foes,
And eke dismay'd my neighbours' arrogance,
Now yield to death, o'erlaid with crooked age,
Devoid of strength and of their proper force.
Even as the lusty cedar worn with years,
That far abroad her dainty odour throws,
'Mongst all the daughters of proud Lebanon,
This heart, my lords, this ne'er-appalled heart,
That was a terror to the bordering lands,
A doleful scourge unto my neighbour kings,
Now by the weapons of unpartial death
Is clove asunder, and bereft of life:
As when the sacred oak with thunderbolts,
Sent from the firy circuit of the heavens,
Sliding along the air's celestial vaults,
Is rent and cloven to the very roots.
In vain therefore I struggle with this foe;
Then welcome death, since God will have it so.
Assar.
Alas! my lord, we sorrow at your case,
And grieve to see your person vexed thus.
But whatsoe'er the Fates determin'd have,
It lieth not in us to disannul;
And he that would annihilate their minds* note
,
-- 193 --
Soaring with Icarus too near the sun,
May catch a fall with young Bellerophon.
For when the fatal Sisters have decreed
To separate us from this earthly mould,
No mortal force can countermand their minds.
Then, worthy lord, since there's no way but one 5 note,
Cease your laments, and leave your grievous moan.
Cor.
Your highness knows how many victories,
How many trophies I erected have
Triumphantly in every place we came.
The Grecian monarch, warlike Pandrasus,
And all the crew of the Molossians;
Goffarius the arm-strong king of Gauls,
Have felt the force of our victorious arms,
And to their cost beheld our chivalry.
Where-e'er Aurora, handmaid of the sun,
Where-e'er the sun, bright guardian of the day,
Where-e'er the joyful day with cheerful light,
Where-e'er the light illuminates the world,
The Trojans' glory flies with golden wings,
Wings that do soar beyond fell Envy's flight6 note
.
-- 194 --
The fame of Brutus and his followers
Pierceth the skies, and, with the skies, the throne
Of mighty Jove, commander of the world.
Then, worthy Brutus, leave these sad laments;
Comfort yourself with this your great renown,
And fear not Death, though he seem terrible.
Bru.
Nay, Corineus, you mistake my mind,
In construing wrong the cause of my complaints,
I fear'd to yield myself to fatal death;
God knows it was the least of all my thought.
A greater care torments my very bones,
And makes me tremble at the thought of it;
And in you, lordings, doth the substance lie.
Thra.
Most noble lord, if aught your loyal peers
Accomplish may, to ease your lingring grief,
I, in the name of all, protest to you,
That we will boldly enterprise the same,
Were it to enter to black Tartarus,
Where triple Cerberus, with his venomous throat,
Scareth the ghosts with high-resounding noise.
We'll either rent the bowels of the earth,
Searching the entrails of the brutish earth,
Or, with Ixion's over-daring son7 note,
Be bound in chains of ever-during steel.
Bru.
Then hearken to your sovereign's latest words,
In which I will unto you all unfold
Our royal mind and resolute intent.
When golden Hebe, daughter to great Jove,
Cover'd my manly cheeks with youthful down,
The unhappy slaughter of my luckless sire
Drove me and old Assaracus, mine eame8 note
,
As exiles from the bounds of Italy;
-- 195 --
So that perforce we were constrain'd to fly
To Græcia's monarch, noble Pandrasus.
There I alone did undertake your cause,
There I restor'd your antique liberty,
Though Græcia frown'd, and all Molossia storm'd;
Though brave Antigonus, with martial band,
In pitched field encounter'd me and mine;
Though Pandrasus and his contributaries,
With all the rout of their confederates,
Sought to deface our glorious memory,
And wipe the name of Trojans from the earth:
Him did I captivate with this mine arm,
And by compulsion forc'd him to agree
To certain articles we did propound.
From Græcia through the boisterous Hellespont
We came unto the fields of Lestrygon,
Whereas our brother Corineus was9 note;
Since when we passed the Cilician gulf,
And so transfreting1 note the Illyrian sea,
Arrived on the coasts of Aquitain;
Where, with an army of his barbarous Gauls,
Goffarius and his brother Gathelus
Encountring with our host, sustain'd the foil;
And for your sakes my Turinus there I lost,
Turinus, that slew six hundred men at arms,
All in an hour, with his sharp battle-axe.
From thence upon the stronds of Albion
To Corus' haven happily we came,
And quell'd the giants, come of Albion's race,
With Gogmagog, son to Samotheus,
The cursed captain of that damned crew;
-- 196 --
And in that isle at length I placed you.
Now let me see, if my laborious toils,
If all my care, if all my grievous wounds,
If all my diligence, were well employ'd.
Cor.
When first I follow'd thee and thine, brave king,
I hazarded my life and dearest blood
To purchase favour at your princely hands;
And for the same, in dangerous attempts,
In sundry conflicts, and in divers broils,
I shew'd the courage of my manly mind.
For this I combated with Gathelus,
The brother to Goffarius of Gaul;
For this I fought with furious Gogmagog,
A savage captain of a savage crew;
And for these deeds brave Cornwall I receiv'd,
A grateful gift given by a gracious king;
And for this gift, his life and dearest blood
Will Corineus spend for Brutus' good.
Deb.
And what my friend, brave prince, hath vow'd to you,
The same will Debon do unto his end.
Bru.
Then, loyal peers, since you are all agreed,
And resolute to follow Brutus' hests,
Favour my sons, favour these orphans, lords,
And shield them from the dangers of their foes.
Locrine, the column of my family,
And only pillar of my weaken'd age,
Locrine, draw near, draw near unto thy sire,
And take thy latest blessings at his hands:
And, for thou art the eldest of my sons,
Be thou a captain to thy brethren,
And imitate thy aged father's steps,
Which will conduct thee to true honour's gate:
For if thou follow sacred virtue's lore2 note,
Thou shalt be crowned with a laurel branch,
-- 197 --
And wear a wreath of sempiternal fame,
Sorted amongst the glorious happy ones3 note.
Loc.
If Locrine do not follow your advice,
And bear himself in all things like a prince
That seeks to amplify the great renown
Left unto him for an inheritage
By those that were his glorious ancestors,
Let me be flung into the ocean,
And swallow'd in the bowels of the earth:
Or let the ruddy lightning of great Jove
Descend upon this my devoted head.
Bru.
But for I see you all to be in doubt,
Who shall be matched with our royal son,
Locrine, receive this present at my hand;
[Taking Guendolen by the hand.
A gift more rich than are the wealthy mines
Found in the bowels of America4 note
.
Thou shalt be spoused to fair Guendolen:
Love her, and take her, for she is thine own,
If so thy uncle and herself do please.
Cor.
And herein how your highness honours me,
It cannot now be in my speech express'd;
For careful parents glory not so much
At their own honour and promotion,
As for to see the issue of their blood
Seated in honour and prosperity.
Guen.
And far be it from any maiden's thoughts5 note
To contradict her aged father's will.
Therefore, since he to whom I must obey,
Hath given me now unto your royal self,
-- 198 --
I will not stand aloof from off the lure6 note
,
Like crafty dames that most of all deny
That which they most desire to possess.
Bru.
Then now, my son, thy part is on the stage,
[Turning to Locrine, who kneels.
For thou must bear the person of a king.
[Puts the crown on his head.
Locrine stand up, and wear the regal crown,
And think upon the state of majesty,
That thou with honour well may'st wear the crown:
And, if thou tend'rest these my latest words,
As thou requir'st my soul to be at rest,
As thou desir'st thine own security,
Cherish and love thy new-betrothed wife.
Loc.
No longer let me well enjoy the crown,
Than I do honour peerless Guendolen7 note.
Bru.
Camber.
Cam.
My lord.
Bru.
The glory of mine age,
And darling of thy mother Innogen8 note,
Take thou the South for thy dominion.
From thee there shall proceed a royal race,
That shall maintain the honour of this land,
And sway the regal scepter with their hands.
And Albanact, thy father's only joy,
Youngest in years, but not the young'st in mind,
A perfect pattern of all chivalry,
Take thou the North for thy dominion;
-- 199 --
A country full of hills and ragged rocks,
Replenished with fierce, untamed, beasts,
As correspondent to thy martial thoughts.
Live long, my sons, with endless happiness,
And bear firm concordance among yourselves.
Obey the counsels of these fathers grave,
That you may better bear out violence.—
But suddenly, through weakness of my age,
And the defect of youthful puissance,
My malady increaseth more and more,
And cruel Death hasteneth his quickned pace,
To dispossess me of my earthly shape.
Mine eyes wax dim, o'er-cast with clouds of age,
The pangs of death compass my crazed bones;
Thus to you all my blessings I bequeath,
And, with my blessings, this my fleeting soul.
My soul in haste flies to the Elysian fields;
My glass is run, and all my miseries
Do end with life; death closeth up mine eyes.
[Dies.
Loc.
Accursed stars, damn'd and accursed stars,
To abbreviate my noble father's life!
Hard-hearted gods, and too envíous fates* note
,
Thus to cut off my father's fatal thread!
Brutus, that was a glory to us all,
Brutus, that was a terror to his foes,
Alas! too soon by Demogorgon's knife
The martial Brutus is bereft of life:
No sad complaints may move just Æacus.
Cor.
No dreadful threats can fear judge Rhadamanth9 note
.
-- 200 --
Wert thou as strong as mighty Hercules,
That tam'd the hugy monsters of the world,
Play'dst thou as sweet on the sweet-sounding lute
As did the spouse of fair Eurydice,
That did enchant the waters with his noise,
And made stones, birds, and beasts, to lead a dance,
Constrain'd the hilly trees to follow him,
Thou could'st not move the judge of Erebus,
Nor move compassion in grim Pluto's heart;
For fatal Mors expecteth all the world,
And every man must tread the way of death1 note.
Brave Tantalus, the valiant Pelops' sire,
Guest to the gods, suffer'd untimely death;
And old Tithonus, husband to the morn,
And eke grim Minos, whom just Jupiter
Deign'd to admit unto his sacrifice.
The thundring trumpets of blood-thirsty Mars,
The fearful rage of fell Tisiphone,
The boisterous waves of humid ocean,
Are instruments and tools of dismal death.
Then, noble cousin, cease to mourn his chance,
Whose age and years were signs that he should die,
It resteth now that we inter his bones,
That was a terror to his enemies.
Take up the corse, and princes hold him dead,
Who while he liv'd upheld the Trojan state.
Sound drums and trumpets; march to Troynovant,
There to provide our chieftain's funeral.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Strumbo above, in a gown, with ink and paper in his hand.
Strum.
Either the four elements, the seven planets,
and all the particular stars of the pole antastick,
are adversative against me, or else I was begotten
-- 201 --
and born in the wane of the moon, when
every thing, as Lactantius in his fourth book of
Constultations2 note doth say, goeth arseward. Ay, masters,
ay, you may laugh, but I must weep; you may joy,
but I must sorrow; shedding salt tears from the
watry fountains of my most dainty-fair eyes along
my comely and smooth cheeks, in as great plenty
as the water runneth from the bucking-tubs, or red
wine out of the hogs-heads. For trust me, gentlemen
and my very good friends, and so forth, the
little god, nay the desperate god, Cuprit, with one
of his vengible bird-bolts3 note, hath shot me into the
heel: so not only, but also, (oh fine phrase!) I burn,
I burn, and I burn-a; in love, in love, and in love-a* note.
Ah! Strumbo, what hast thou seen? not Dina with
the ass Tom4 note
? Yea, with these eyes thou hast seen
her; and therefore pull them out, for they will work
thy bale5 note. Ah! Strumbo, what hast thou heard† note? not
the voice of the nightingale, but a voice sweeter than
hers; yea, with these ears hast thou heard it, and
therefore cut them off, for they have caus'd thy sorrow.
-- 202 --
Nay Strumbo, kill thyself, drown thyself,
hang thyself, starve thyself. Oh, but then I shall
leave my sweetheart. Oh my heart! Now, pate, for
thy master6 note! I will 'dite an aliquant love-pistle to her,
and then she hearing the grand verbosity of my scripture,
will love me presently.
[Writes.
My pen is naught; gentlemen, lend me a knife7 note
; I
think the more haste the worst speed.
[Writes again, and then reads.
So it is, mistress Dorothy, and the sole essence of my
soul, that the little sparkles of affection kindled in me towards
your sweet self, hath now increas'd to a great flame,
and will, ere it be long, consume my poor heart, except you
with the pleasant water of your secret fountain quench the
furious heat of the same. Alas, I am a gentleman of good
fame and name, in person majestical, in 'parel comely, in
gait portly8 note. Let not therefore your gentle heart be so
hard as to despise a proper tall young man of a handsome
life; and by despising him, not only but also, to kill
him. Thus expecting time and tide, I bid you farewell.
Your servant,
Signior Strumbo.
-- 203 --
O wit! O pate! O memory! O hand! O ink!
O paper! Well, now I will send it away. Trompart,
Trompart. What a villain is this? Why sirrah,
come when your master calls you. Trompart.
Enter Trompart.
Trom.
Anon, sir.
Strum.
Thou knowest, my pretty boy, what a
good master I have been to thee ever since I took
thee into my service9 note.
Trom.
Ay, sir.
Strum.
And how I have cherished thee always, as
if thou hadst been the fruit of my loins, flesh of my
flesh, and bone of my bone.
Trom.
Ay, sir.
Strum.
Then shew thyself herein a trusty servant;
and carry this letter to mistress Dorothy, and tell
her—
[Whispers him. Exit Trompart.
Strum.
Nay, masters, you shall see a marriage by
and by. But here she comes. Now must I frame
my amorous passions.
Enter Dorothy and Trompart.
Dor.
Signior Strumbo, well met. I receiv'd your
letters by your man here, who told me a pitiful story
of your anguish; and so understanding your passions
were so great, I came hither speedily.
Strum.
Oh, my sweet and pigsney, the fecundity
of my ingeny is not so great that may declare unto
you the sorrowful sobs and broken sleeps that I suffer'd
for you sake; and therefore I desire you to
receive me into your familiarity:
-- 204 --
For your love doth lie
As near and as nigh
Unto my heart within,
As mine eye to my nose,
My leg unto my hose,
And my flesh unto my skin.
Dor.
Truly, Master Strumbo, you speak too learnedly
for me to understand the drift of your mind; and
therefore tell your tale in plain terms, and leave off
your dark riddles.
Strum.
Alas, mistress Dorothy, this is my luck,
that when I most would, I cannot be understood;
so that my great learning is an inconvenience unto
me. But to speak in plain terms, I love you, mistress
Dorothy, if you like to accept me into your familiarity.
Dor.
If this be all, I am content.
Strum.
Say'st thou so, sweet wench, let me lick
thy toes. Farewel, mistress. If any of you be in
love, [Turning to the audience] provide ye a cap-case
full of new-coin'd words, and then shall you soon
have the succado de labres1 note, and something else.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Locrine, Guendolen, Camber, Albanact, Corineus, Assaracus, Debon, and Thrasimachus.
Loc.
Uncle, and princes of brave Britany,
Since that our noble father is entomb'd,
As best beseem'd so brave a prince as he,
If so you please, this day my love and I,
Within the temple of Concordia,
-- 205 --
Will solemnize our royal marriage.
Thra.
Right noble lord, your subjects every one
Must needs obey your highness at command;
Especially in such a case as this,
That much concerns your highness' great content.
Loc.
Then frolick, lordings, to fair Concord's walls,
Where we will pass the day in knightly sports,
The night in dancing and in figur'd masks,
And offer to god Risus all our sports2 note
.
[Exeunt.
ACT II.
Enter Até as before. After a little lightning and thundering,
let there come forth this show. Enter at one door Perseus
and Andromeda, hand in hand, and Cepheus also,
with swords and targets. Then let there come out of
another door Phineus, in black armour, with Æthiopians
after him, driving in Perseus; and having taken
away Andromeda, let them depart. Até remains.
Até.
Regit omnia numen.
When Perseus married fair Andromeda,
The only daughter of king Cepheus,
He thought he had establish'd well his crown,
And that his kingdom should for aye endure.
But lo! proud Phineus with a band of men,
Contriv'd of sun-burnt Æthiopians,
-- 206 --
By force of arms the bride he took from him,
And turn'd their joy into a flood of tears.
So fares it with young Locrine and his love;
He thinks this marriage tendeth to his weal,
But this foul day, this foul accursed day,
Is the beginning of his miseries.
Behold where Humber and his Scythians
Approacheth nigh with all his warlike train.
I need not, I, the sequel shall declare,
What tragick chances fall out in this war.
[Exit.
SCENE I.
Enter Humber, Hubba, Estrild, Segar, and their Soldiers.
Hum.
At length the snail doth climb the highest tops,
Ascending up the stately castle walls;
At length the water with continual drops
Doth penetrate the hardest marble stone;
At length we are arriv'd in Albion.
Nor could the barbarous Dacian sovereign,
Nor yet the ruler of brave Belgia,
Stay us from cutting over to this isle,9Q1344
Whereas I hear a troop of Phrygians
Under the conduct of Posthumius' son,
Have pitched up lordly pavillions,
And hope to prosper in this lovely isle.
But I will frustrate all their foolish hope,
And teach them that the Scythian emperor
Leads Fortune tied in a chain of gold,
Constraining her to yield unto his will,
And grace him with their regal diadem;
Which I will have, maugre their treble hosts,
And all the power their petty kings can make.
Hub.
If she that rules fair Rhamnus' golden gate* note
-- 207 --
Grant us the honour of the victory,
As hitherto she always favour'd us,
Right noble father, we will rule the land
Enthronized in seats of topaz stones;
That Locrine and his brethren all may know,
None must be king but Humber and his son.
Hum.
Courage, my son; Fortune shall favour us,
And yield to us the coronet of bay,
That decketh none but noble conquerors.
But what saith Estrild to these regions?
How liketh she the temperature thereof?
Are they not pleasant in her gracious eyes?
Est.
The plains, my lord, garnish'd with Flora's wealth,
And over-spread with party-colour'd flowers,
Do yield sweet contentation to my mind.
The airy hills enclos'd with shady groves,
The groves replenish'd with sweet chirping birds,
The birds resounding heavenly melody,
Are equal to the groves of Thessaly;
Where Phœbus with the learned ladies nine,
Delight themselves with musick's harmony,
And from the moisture of the mountain tops
The silent springs dance down with murmuring streams,
And water all the ground with crystal waves.
The gentle blasts of Eurus' modest wind,
Moving the pittering leaves3 note
of Silvan's woods,
-- 208 --
Do equal it with Tempe's paradise;
And thus consorted all4 note to one effect,
Do make me think these are the happy isles,
Most fortunate, if Humber may them win.
Hub.
Madam, where resolution leads the way,
And courage follows with embolden'd pace,
Fortune can never use her tyranny:
For valiantness is like unto a rock,
That standeth in the waves of ocean;
Which though the billows beat on every side,
And Boreas fell, with his tempestuous storms,
Bloweth upon it with a hideous clamour,
Yet it remaineth still unmoveable.
Hum.
Kingly resolv'd, thou glory of thy sire.
But, worthy Segar, what uncouth novelties
Bring'st thou unto our royal majesty?
Seg.
My lord, the youngest of all Brutus' sons,
Stout Albanact, with millions of men,
Approacheth nigh, and meaneth ere the morn
To try your force by dint of fatal sword.
Hum.
Tut, let him come with millions of hosts,
He shall find entertainment good enough,
Yea, fit for those that are our enemies;
For we'll receive them at the lances' points,
And massacre their bodies with our blades:
Yea, though they were in number infinite,
More than the mighty Babylonian queen,
Semiramis, the ruler of the West5 note
,
Brought 'gainst the emperor of the Scythians,
-- 209 --
Yet would we not start back one foot from them,
That they might know we are invincible.
Hub.
Now, by great Jove, the supreme king of heaven,
And the immortal gods that live therein,
When as the morning shews his chearful face,
And Lucifer, mounted upon his steed,
Brings in the chariot of the golden sun,
I'll meet young Albanact in the open field,
And crack my lance upon his burgonet6 note,
To try the valour of his boyish strength.
There will I shew such ruthful spectacles,
And cause so great effusion of blood,
That all his boys shall wonder at my strength:
As when the warlike queen of Amazons,
Penthesilea, armed with her lance,
Girt with a corslet of bright-shining steel,
Coop'd up the faint-heart Grecians in the camp.
Hum.
Spoke like a warlike knight, my noble son;
Nay, like a prince that seeks his father's joy.
Therefore to-morrow, ere fair Titan shine,
And bashful Eos, messenger of light,
Expels the liquid sleep from out mens' eyes,
Thou shalt conduct the right wing of the host,
The left wing shall be under Segar's charge,
The rearward shall be under me myself.
And lovely Estrild, fair and gracious,
If Fortune favour me in mine attempts,
Thou shalt be queen of lovely Albion.
Fortune shall favour me in mine attempts,
And make thee queen of lovely Albion.
Come, let us in, and muster up our train,
And furnish up our lusty soldiers;
That they may be a bulwark to our state,
And bring our wished joys to perfect end.
[Exeunt.
-- 210 --
SCENE II.
Enter Strumbo, Dorothy, and Trompart, cobling shoes, and singing.
Trom.
We coblers lead a merry life:
All.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
Void of all envy and of strife:
All.
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
Our ease is great, our labour small:
All.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
And yet our gains be much withal:
All.
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
With this art so fine and fair:
All.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Trom.
No occupation may compare:
All.
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
For merry pastime and joyful glee:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
Most happy men we coblers be:
Dan diddle dan.
Trom.
The can stands full of nappy ale:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Strum.
In our shop still withouten fail:
Dan diddle dan.
Dor.
This is our meat, this is our food:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Trom.
This brings us to a merry mood:
Dan diddle dan.
Strum.
This makes us work for company:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Dor.
To pull the tankards cheerfully:
Dan diddle dan.
Trom.
Drink to thy husband, Dorothy:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Dor.
Why then my Strumbo there's to thee:
Dan diddle dan.
-- 211 --
Strum.
Drink thou the rest, Trompart, amain:
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
Dor.
When that is gone, we'll fill't again:
Dan diddle dan.
Enter a Captain.
Cap.
The poorest state is farthest from annoy:
How merrily he sitteth on his stool!
But when he sees that needs he must be press'd,
He'll turn his note, and sing another tune.
Ho, by your leave, master cobler.
Strum.
You are welcome, gentleman. What will
you any old shoes or buskins, or will you have your
shoes clouted? I will do them as well as any cobler
in Cathness whatsoever.
Capt.
O master cobler, you are far deceiv'd in me;
for don't you see this? [Shewing him press-money.] I
come not to buy any shoes, but to buy yourself.
Come, sir, you must be a soldier in the king's cause.
Strum.
Why, but hear you, sir. Has your king
any commission to take any man against his will? I
promise you, I can scant believe it: or did he give
you commission?
Capt.
O, sir, you need not care for that; I need no
commission. Hold here. I command you, in the name
of our king Albanact, to appear to-morrow in the
town-house of Cathness.
Strum.
King Nactaball! I cry God mercy; what
have we to do with him, or he with us? But you,
sir, master Capontail, draw your pastboard, or else I
promise you, I'll give you a canvasado with a bastinado
over your shoulders, and teach you to come hither
with your implements.
Cap.
I pray thee, good fellow, be content; I do the
king's command.
Strum.
Put me out of your book then.
Cap.
I may not.
-- 212 --
Strum.
No! Well, come, sir, will your stomach serve
you? By gogs blue-hood7 note
and halidom, I will have a
bout with you.
[Strumbo snatches up a staff. They fight.
Enter Thrasimachus.
Thra.
How now!
What noise, what sudden clamour's this?
How now!
My captain and the cobler so hard at it!
Sirs, what is your quarrel?
Cap.
Nothing, sir, but that he will not take press-money.
Thra.
Here, good fellow, take it at my command,
Unless you mean to be stretch'd.
Strum.
Truly, master gentleman, I lack no money:
if you please I will resign it to one of these poor
fellows.
Thra.
No such matter.
Look you be at the common house8 note to-morrow.
[Exeunt Thrasimachus and Captain.
Strum.
O wife, I have spun a fair thread! If I had
been quiet, I had not been press'd, and therefore well
may I waiment9 note. But come, sirrah, shut up, for we
must to the wars.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Albanact, Debon, Thrasimachus, and Lords.
Alba.
Brave cavaliers, princes of Albany,
Whose trenchant blades, with our deceased sire
-- 213 --
Passing the frontiers of brave Græcia,
Were bathed in our enemies' lukewarm blood,
Now is the time to manifest your wills,
Your haughty minds and resolutions.
Now opportunity is offered
To try your courage and your earnest zeal,
Which you always protest to Albanact;
For at this time, yea at this present time,
Stout fugitives, come from the Scythians' bounds,
Have pester'd every place with mutinies.
But trust me, lordings, I will never cease
To persecute the rascal runagates,
Till all the rivers, stained with their blood,
Shall fully shew their fatal overthrow.
Deb.
So shall your highness merit great renown,
And imitate your aged father's steps.
Alba.
But tell me, cousin, cam'st thou through the plains?
And saw'st thou there the faint-heart fugitives,
Mustering their weather-beaten soldiers?
What order keep they in their marshalling?
Thra.
After we past the groves of Caledon,
Where murmuring rivers slide with silent streams,
We did behold the straggling Scythians' camp,
Replete with men, stor'd with munition.
There might we see the valiant-minded knights,
Fetching careers1 note along the spacious plains.
Humber and Hubba arm'd in azure blue,
Mounted upon their coursers white as snow,
Went to behold the pleasant flowering fields:
Hector and Troilus, Priamus' lovely sons,
Chasing the Grecians over Simois,
Were not to be compar'd to these two knights.
Alba.
Well hast thou painted out in eloquence
The portraiture of Humber and his son.
-- 214 --
As fortunate as was Polycrates2 note
,
Yet should they not escape our conquering swords,
Or boast of ought but of our clemency.
Enter Strumbo and Trompart, crying often,
Wild-fire and pitch, wild-fire and pitch.
Thra.
What, sirs, what mean you by these clamours made,
These outcries raised in our stately court?
Strum.
Wild-fire and pitch, wild-fire and pitch.
Thra.
Villains, I say, tell us the cause hereof.
Strum.
Wild-fire and pitch, wild-fire and pitch.
Thra.
Tell me, you villains, why you make this noise,
Or with my lance I'll prick your bowels out.
Alba.
Where are your houses? where's your dwelling-place?
Strum.
Place! Ha, ha, ha! laugh a month and a
day at him. Place! I cry God mercy: Why do you
think that such poor honest men as we be, hold our
habitacles in kings' palaces? Ha, ha, ha! But because
you seem to be an abominable chieftain, I
will tell you our state:
From the top to the toe,
From the head to the shoe,
From the beginning to the ending,
From the building to the brenning3 note.
This honest fellow and I had our mansion-cottage
in the suburbs of this city, hard by the temple of
-- 215 --
Mercury; and by the common soldiers of the Shittens,
the Scythians, (what do you call them?) with
all the suburbs, were burnt to the ground; and the
ashes are left there for the country wives to wash
bucks withal:
And that which grieves me most,
My loving wife,
(O cruel strife!)
The wicked flames did roast.
And therefore, captain Crust,
We will continually cry,
Except you seek a remedy,
Our houses to re-edify,
Which now are burnt to dust.
[Both cry
Wild-fire and pitch, wild-fire and pitch.]
Alba.
Well, we must remedy these outrages,
And throw revenge upon their hateful heads.
And you, good fellows, for your houses burnt,
We will remunerate you store of gold,
And build your houses by our palace-gate.
Strum.
Gate! O petty treason to my person, no
where else but by your backside? Gate! O how I
am vexed in my choler! Gate! I cry God mercy. Do
you hear, master king? If you mean to gratify such
poor men as we be, you must build our houses by
the tavern.
Alba.
It shall be done, sir.
Strum.
Near the tavern; ay, by our lady. Sir, it
was spoken like a good fellow. Do you hear, sir?
When our house is builded, if you do chance to pass
or re-pass that way, we will bestow a quart of the
best wine upon you.
[Exeunt Strumbo and Trompart.
Alba.
It grieves me, lordings, that my subjects' goods
Should thus be spoiled by the Scythians,
Who, as you see, with lightfoot foragers,
Depopulate the places where they come:
But, cursed Humber, thou shalt rue the day,
That e'er thou cam'st unto Cathnesia.
[Exeunt.
-- 216 --
SCENE IV.
Enter Humber, Hubba, Segar, Thrassier, and their forces.
Hum.
Hubba, go take a coronet of our horse,
As many lanciers, and light-armed knights,
As may suffice for such an enterprise,
And place them in the grove of Caledon:
With these, when as the skirmish doth encrease,
Retire thou from the shelters of the wood,
And set upon the weaken'd Trojans' backs;
For policy, joined with chivalry,
Can never be put back from victory.
[Exit Hubba.
Enter Albanact; Strumbo and Clowns with him.
Alba.
Thou base-born Hun, how durst thou be so bold,
As once to menace warlike Albanact,
The great commander of these regions?
But thou shalt buy thy rashness with thy death,
And rue too late thy over-bold attempts;
For with this sword, this instrument of death,
That hath been drenched in my foe-mens' blood,
I'll separate thy body from thy head,
And set that coward blood of thine abroach.
Strum.
Nay, with this staff, great Strumbo's instrument,
I'll crack thy cockscomb, paltry Scythian.
Humb.
Nor reck I of thy threats, thou princox boy4 note,
Nor do I fear thy foolish insolency:
And, but thou better use thy bragging blade,
Than thou dost rule thy overflowing tongue,
-- 217 --
Superbious Briton, thou shalt know too soon
The force of Humber and his Scythians.
[They fight. Humber and his soldiers fly. Albanact and his forces follow.
Strum.
O horrible, terrible!
[Exit.
SCENE V.
Alarum. Enter Humber and his Soldiers.
Humb.
How bravely this young Briton, Albanact,
Darteth abroad the thunderbolts of war,
Beating down millions with his furious mood,
And in his glory triumphs over all,
Moving the massy squadrons off the ground!
Heaps hills on hills, to scale the starry sky:
As when Briareus, arm'd with an hundred hands,
Flung forth an hundred mountains at great Jove:
As when the monstrous giant Monychus
Hurl'd mount Olympus at great Marsis targe,
And shot huge cedars at Minerva's shield5 note
.
How doth he overlook with haughty front
My fleeting hosts, and lifts his lofty face
Against us all that now do fear his force!
Like as we see the wrathful sea from far,
In a great mountain heap'd, with hideous noise,
With thousand billows beat against the ships,
And toss them in the waves like tennis balls.
[An alarum sounded.
Ah me! I fear my Hubba is surpris'd.
Alarum again. Enter Albanact, Camber, Thrasymachus, Debon, and their forces.
Alba.
Follow me, soldiers, follow Albanact;
Pursue the Scythians flying through the field.
-- 218 --
Let none of them escape with victory;
That they may know the Britons' force is more
Than all the power of the trembling Huns.
Thra.
Forward, brave soldiers, forward; keep the chase.
He that takes captive Humber or his son,
Shall be rewarded with a crown of gold.
An alarum sounded; then they fight. Humber and his army
retreat. The Britons pursue. Hubba enters at their
rear, and kills Debon: Strumbo falls down; Albanact
runs out, and afterwards enters wounded.
Alba.
Injurious Fortune, hast thou cross'd me thus?
Thus in the morning of my victories,
Thus in the prime of my felicity,
To cut me off by such hard overthrow!
Hadst thou no time thy rancour to declare,
But in the spring of all my dignities?
Hadst thou no place to spit thy venom out,
But on the person of young Albanact?
I that e'erwhile did scare mine enemies,
And drove them almost to a shameful flight;
I that e'erwhile full lion-like did fare
Amongst the dangers of the thick-throng'd pikes,
Must now depart, most lamentably slain
By Humber's treacheries and Fortune's spites.
Curst be her charms, damn'd be her cursed charms,
That do delude the wayward hearts of men,
Of men that trust unto her fickle wheel,
Which never leaveth turning upside-down!
O gods, O heavens, allot me but the place
Where I may find her hateful mansion.
I'll pass the Alps to watry Meroe,
Where fiery Phœbus in his chariot,
The wheels whereof are deck'd with emeralds,
Casts such a heat, yea such a scorching heat,
-- 219 --
And spoileth Flora of her chequer'd grass6 note
;
I'll overturn the mountain Caucasus,
Where fell Chimæra in her triple shape,
Rolleth hot flames from out her monstrous paunch,
Scaring the beasts with issue of her gorge;
I'll pass the frozen zone, where icy flakes
Stopping the passage of the fleeting ships* note,
Do lie, like mountains, in the congeal'd sea:
Where if I find that hateful house of hers,
I'll pull the fickle wheel from out her hands,
And tye herself in everlasting bands.
But all in vain I breathe these threatenings;
The day is lost, the Huns are conquerors,
Debon is slain, my men are done to death,
The currents swift swim violently with blood,
And last, (O that this last night so long last† note!)
Myself with wounds past all recovery,
Must leave my crown for Humber to possess.
Strum.
Lord have mercy upon us, masters, I
think this is a holy-day; every man lyes sleeping in
the fields: but God knows full sore against their wills.
Thra.
Fly, noble Albanact, and save thyself,
The Scythians follow with great celerity,
And there's no way but flight or speedy death;
Fly, noble Albanact, and save thyself.
[Exit Thra. Alarum.
Alba.
Nay, let them fly that fear to die the death,
That tremble at the name of fatal Mors.
Ne'er shall proud Humber boast or brag himself,
That he hath put young Albanact to flight:
And lest he should triumph at my decay,
This sword shall reave his master of his life,
-- 220 --
That oft hath sav'd his master's doubtful life:
But oh, my brethren, if you care for me,
Revenge my death upon his traiterous head.
Et vos queis domus est nigrantis regia Ditis,
Qui regitis rigido Stygios moderamine lucos,
Nox cæci regina poli, furialis Erinnys,
Diique deæque omnes, Albanum tollite regem,
Tollite flumineis undis rigidaque palude.
Nunc me fata vocant, hoc condam pectore ferrum.
[Stabs himself.
Enter Trompart.
O, what hath he done? his nose bleeds; but I smell
a fox: look where my master lies. Master, master.
Strum.
Let me alone, I tell thee, for I am dead.
Trom.
Yet one word* note, good master.
Strum.
I will not speak, for I am dead, I tell thee.
Trom.
And is my master dead?
[Singing.
O sticks and stones, brickbats and bones,
And is my master dead?
O you cockatrices, and you bablatrices,
That in the woods dwell:
You briers and brambles, you cook-shops and shambles,
Come howl and yell.
With howling and screeking, with wailing and weeping,
Come you to lament,
O colliers of Croydon, and rusticks of Roydon7 note
,
And fishers of Kent.
For Strumbo the cobler, the fine merry cobler
Of Cathness town,
At this same stoure8 note, at this very hour,
Lies dead on the ground.
-- 221 --
O master, thieves, thieves, thieves!
Strum.
Where be they? cox me tunny, bobekin!
let me be rising: be gone; we shall be robb'd by
and by.
[Exeunt Strumbo and Trompart.
SCENE VI.
Enter Humber, Hubba, Segar, Thrassier, Estrild, and Soldiers.
Hum.
Thus from the dreadful shocks of furious Mars,
Thund'ring alarums, and Rhamnusia's drum* note
,
We are retir'd with joyful victory.
The slaughter'd Trojans, squeltring in their blood9 note
,
Infect the air with their carcasses,
And are a prey for every ravenous bird.
Est.
So perish they that are our enemies!
So perish they that love not Humber's weal!
And, mighty Jove, commander of the world,
Protect my love from all false treacheries!
Hum.
Thanks, lovely Estrild, solace to my soul.
But, valiant Hubba, for thy chivalry
Declar'd against the men of Albany,
Lo! here a flow'ring garland wreath'd of bay,
As a reward for this thy forward mind.
[Sets it on Hubba's head.
Hub.
This unexpected honour, noble sire,
Will prick my courage unto braver deeds,
And cause me to attempt such hard exploits,
That all the world shall sound of Hubba's name.
Hum.
And now, brave soldiers, for this good success,
Carouse whole cups of Amazonian wine,
-- 222 --
Sweeter than Nectar or Ambrosia;
And cast away the clods of cursed care,
With goblets crown'd with Semeleius' gifts1 note.
Now let us march to Abis' silver streams,
That clearly glide along the champain fields,
And moist the grassy meads with humid drops.
Sound drums and trumpets, sound up chearfully,
Sith we return with joy and victory.
[Exeunt.
ACT III.
Enter Até as before. Then this dumb show. A crocodile
sitting on a river's bank, and a little snake stinging it.
Both of them fall into the water.
Até.
Scelera in authorem cadunt.
High on a bank, by Nilus' boisterous streams,
Fearfully sat the Egyptian crocodile,
Dreadfully grinding in her sharp long teeth
The broken bowels of a silly fish.
His back was arm'd against the dint of spear,
With shields of brass that shin'd like burnish'd gold:
And as he stretched forth his cruel paws,
A subtle adder creeping closely near,
Thrusting his forked sting into his claws,
Privily shed his poison through his bones,
Which made him swell, that there his bowels burst,
That did so much in his own greatness trust.
So Humber having conquer'd Albanact,
Doth yield his glory unto Locrine's sword.
Mark what ensues, and you may easily see
That all our life is but a tragedy.
[Exit.
-- 223 --
SCENE I.
Enter Locrine, Guendolen, Corineus, Assaracus, Thrasimachus, and Camber.
Loc.
And is this true? Is Albanactus slain?
Hath cursed Humber with his straggling host,
With that his army made of mungrel curs,
Brought our redoubted brother to his end?
O that I had the Thracian Orpheus' harp,
For to awake out of the infernal shade
Those ugly devils of black Erebus,
That might torment the damned traitor's soul!
O that I had Amphion's instrument,
To quicken with his vital notes and tunes
The flinty joints of every stony rock,
By which the Scythians might be punished!
For, by the lightning of almighty Jove,
The Hun shall die, had he ten thousand lives:
And would to God he had ten thousand lives,
That I might with the arm-strong Hercules
Crop off so vile an hydra's hissing heads!
But say, my cousin, (for I long to hear)
How Albanact came by untimely death.
Thra.
After the traiterous host of Scythians
Enter'd the field with martial equipage,
Young Albanact, impatient of delay,
Led forth his army 'gainst the straggling mates;
Whose multitude did daunt our soldiers minds.
Yet nothing could dismay the forward prince;
But with a courage most heroical,
Like to a lion 'mong'st a flock of lambs,
Made havock of the faint-heart fugitives,
Hewing a passage through them with his sword.
Yea, we had almost given them the repulse,
When, suddenly from out the silent wood,
Hubba, with twenty thousand soldiers,
Cowardly came upon our weaken'd backs,
And murther'd all with fatal massacre:
-- 224 --
Amongst the which old Debon, martial knight,
With many wounds was brought unto the death;
And Albanact, oppress'd with multitude,
Whilst valiantly he fell'd his enemies,
Yielded his life and honour to the dust.
He being dead, the soldiers fled amain;
And I alone escaped them by flight,
To bring you tidings of these accidents.
Loc.
Not aged Priam, king of stately Troy,
Grand emperor of barbarous Asia,
When he beheld his noble-minded son
Slain traiterously by all the Mirmidons,
Lamented more than I for Albanact.
Guen.
Not Hecuba the queen of Ilion,
When she beheld the town of Pergamus,
Her palace, burnt with all-devouring flames,
Her fifty sons and daughters, fresh of hue,
Murther'd by wicked Pyrrhus' bloody sword,
Shed such sad tears as I for Albanact.
Cam.
The grief of Niobe, fair Athens' queen* note
,
For her seven sons magnanimous in field,
For her seven daughters, fairer than the fairest,
Is not to be compar'd with my laments.
Cor.
In vain you sorrow for the slaughter'd prince,
In vain you sorrow for this overthrow.
He loves not most that doth lament the most,
But he that seeks to venge the injury.
Think you to quell the enemies' warlike train
With childish sobs and womanish laments?
Unsheath your swords, unsheath your conquering swords,
And seek revenge, the comfort for this sore.
In Cornwall, where I hold my regiment2 note,
-- 225 --
Even just ten thousand valiant men at arms
Hath Corineus ready at command.
All these and more, if need shall more require,
Hath Corineus ready at command.
Cam.
And in the fields of martial Cambria,
Close by the boisterous Iscan's silver streams,
Where light-foot fairies skip from bank to bank,
Full twenty thousand brave courageous knights
Well exercis'd in feats of chivalry,
In manly manner most invincible,
Young Camber hath, with gold and victual.
All these and more, if need shall more require,
I offer up to venge my brother's death,
Loc.
Thanks, loving uncle, and good brother too;
For this revenge, for this sweet word, revenge,
Must ease and cease my wrongful injuries:
And by the sword of bloody Mars I swear,
Ne'er shall sweet quiet enter this my front,
Till I be venged on his traiterous head,
That slew my noble brother Albanact.
Sound drums and trumpets; muster up the camp;
For we will straight march to Albania.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Humber, Estrild, Hubba, Thrassier, and Soldiers.
Hum.
Thus are we come victorious conquerors
Unto the flowing current's silver streams,
Which, in memorial of our victory,
Shall be agnominated by our name3 note,
And talked of by our posterity:
For sure I hope before the golden sun
Posteth his horses to fair Thetis' plains* note,
-- 226 --
To see the water turned into blood,
And change his blueish hue to rueful red,
By reason of the fatal massacre
Which shall be made upon the virent plains4 note.
Enter the Ghost of Albanact* note.
Ghost.
See how the traitor doth presage his harm;
See how he glories at his own decay;
See how he triumphs at his proper loss;
O Fortune vile, unstable, fickle, frail!
Hum.
Methinks I see both armies in the field.
The broken lances climb the crystal skies5 note
;
Some headless lie, some breathless, on the ground,
And every place is strew'd with carcasses:
Behold the grass hath lost his pleasant green,
The sweetest sight that ever might be seen.
Ghost.
Ay, traiterous Humber, thou shalt find it so,
Yea to thy cost thou shalt the same behold,
With anguish, sorrow, and with sad laments.
The grassy plains, that now do please thine eyes,
Shall ere the night be colour'd all with blood.
The shady groves which now inclose thy camp,
And yield sweet savour to thy damned corps,
Shall ere the night be figur'd all with blood.
The profound stream that passeth by thy tents,
And with his moisture serveth all thy camp,
Shall ere the night converted be to blood,
Yea with the blood of those thy straggling boys:
For now revenge shall ease my lingering grief,
And now revenge shall glut my longing soul.
[Exit.
-- 227 --
Hub.
Let come what will, I mean to bear it out;
And either live with glorious victory,
Or die with fame renown'd for chivalry.
He is not worthy of the honey-comb,
That shuns the hives because the bees have stings.
That likes me best that is not got with ease,
Which thousand dangers do accompany;
For nothing can dismay our regal mind,
Which aims at nothing but a golden crown,
The only upshot of mine enterprises.
Were they enchanted in grim Pluto's court* note,
And kept for treasure 'mongst his hellish crew,
I would either quell the triple Cerberus,
And all the army of his hateful hags,
Or roll the stone with wretched Sysiphus.
Hum.
Right martial be thy thoughts, my noble son,
And all thy words savour of chivalry.
[Enter Segar.
But, warlike Segar, what strange accidents
Make you to leave the warding of the camp6 note
?
Segar.
To arms, my lord, to honourable arms;
Take helm and targe in hand: The Britons come
With greater multitude than erst the Greeks
Brought to the ports of Phrygian Tenedos.
Hum.
But what saith Segar to these accidents?
What counsel gives he in extremities?
Segar.
Why this, my lord, experience teacheth us;
That resolution's a sole help at need.
And this, my lord, our honour teacheth us,
That we be bold in every enterprise.
Then, since there is no way but fight or die,
Be resolute, my lord, for victory.
Hum.
And resolute, Segar, I mean to be.
-- 228 --
Perhaps some blissful star will favour us,
And comfort bring to our perplexed state.
Come, let us in, and fortify our camp,
So to withstand their strong invasion.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter Strumbo, Trompart, Oliver, and William.
Strum.
Nay, neighbour Oliver, if you be so hot,
come, prepare yourself, you shall find two as stout
fellows of us, as any in all the North.
Oliv.
No, by my dorth7 note
, neighbour Strumbo; Ich
zee dat you are a man of small zideration, dat will
zeek to injure your old vreends, one of your vamiliar
guests; and derefore zeeing your pinion is to
deal withouten reazon, Ich and my zon William
will take dat course dat shall be fardest vrom reason.
How zay you? will you have my daughter or no?
Strum.
A very hard question, neighbour, but I
will solve it as I may. What reason have you to demand
it of me?
Will.
Marry sir, what reason had you, when my
sister was in the barn, to tumble her upon the hay, and
to fish her belly8 note
?
Strum.
Mass, thou say'st true. Well, but would
-- 229 --
you have me marry her therefore? No, I scorn her,
and you, and you: ay, I scorn you all.
Oliv.
You will not have her then?
Strum.
No, as I am a true gentleman.
Will.
Then will we school you, ere you and we
part hence.
[They fight.
Enter Margery. She snatches the staff out of her brother's hand, as he is fighting.
Strum.
Ay, you come in pudding-time, or else I
had dress'd them.
Mar.
You, master sawcebox, lobcock, cockscomb;
you, slopsawce, lickfingers, will you not hear?
Strum.
Who speak you to? me?
Mar.
Ay, sir, to you, John Lack-honesty, Little-wit.
Is it you that will have none of me?
Strum.
No, by my troth, mistress Nicebice* note. How
fine you can nick-name me! I think you were
brought up in the University of Bridewell, you have
your rhetorick so ready at your tongue's end, as if
you were never well warn'd when you were young.
Mar.
Why then, goodman Cods-head, if you will
have none of me, farewel.
Strum.
If you be so plain, mistress Driggle-draggle,
fare you well.
Mar.
Nay, master Strumbo, ere you go from
hence, we must have more words. You will have none
of me?
[They fight.
Strum.
Oh my head, my head! Leave, leave, leave;
I will, I will, I will.
Mar.
Upon that condition I let thee alone.
Oliv.
How now, master Strumbo? Hath my daughter
taught you a new lesson?
Strum.
Ay, but hear you, goodman Oliver; it will
not be for my ease to have my head broken every
-- 230 --
day: therefore remedy this, and we shall agree.
Oliv.
Well, zon, well, (for you are my zon now)
all shall be remedied. Daughter be friends with him.
[They shake hands. Exeunt Oliver, William, and Margery.
Strum.
You are a sweet nut; the devil crack you!
Masters, I think it be my luck. My first wife was a
loving quiet wench; but this, I think, would weary
the devil. I would she might be burnt as my other
wife was; if not, I must run to the halter for help.
O codpiece, thou hast done thy master* note
! this it
is to be meddling with warm plackets.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Enter Locrine, Camber, Corineus, Thrasimachus, and Assaracus.
Loc.
Now am I guarded with an host of men,
Whose haughty courage is invincible.
Now am I hemm'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 cross'd with argent streams,
The ornaments of thy pavillions,
Shall all be captivated with this hand;
And thou thyself at Albanactus' tomb
Shalt offer'd be, in satisfaction
Of all the wrongs thou didst him when he liv'd.
-- 231 --
But canst thou tell me, brave Thrasimachus,
How far we distant are from Humber's camp?
Thra.
My lord, within yon foul accursed grove9 note,
That bears the tokens of our overthrow,
This Humber hath entrench'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 high pyramides,
Which with their top surmount the firmament.
Cam.
The arm-strong offspring of the doubled night1 note
,
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 Corineus liv'd,
Sometimes in war, sometimes in quiet peace,
And yet I feel myself 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
-- 232 --
Of Humber and his straggling soldiers,
Or lose my life amongst the thickest press,
And die with honour in my latest days:
Yet, ere I die, they all shall understand,
What force lies in stout Corineus' hand.
Thra.
And if Thrasimachus detract the fight2 note,
Either for weakness, or for cowardice,
Let him not boast that Brutus was his eame,
Or that brave Corineus was his sire.
Loc.
Then courage, soldiers, first for your safety,
Next for your peace, last for your victory.
[Exeunt.
SCENE V.
Alarum. Enter Hubba and Segar at one side of the stage, and Corineus 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 Corineus 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 sovereign's overthrow,
Would this my club might aggravate his woe.
[Strikes them with his club. Exeunt fighting.
SCENE VI.
Enter Humber.
Hum.
Where may I find some desert wilderness,
Where I may breathe out curses as I would,
-- 233 --
And scare the earth with my condemning voice;
Where every echo's 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 Cocytus 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 yourselves in Puryflegethon3 note;
Come all of you, and with your shrieking notes
Accompany the Britons' conquering host.
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 outrageous waves,
With surging billows, did not rive my ships
Against the rocks of high Ceraunia,
Or swallow me into her watry gulf!
Would God we had arriv'd upon the shore
Where Polyphemus and the Cyclops dwell;
Or where the bloody Anthropophagi
With greedy jaws devour the wandering wights!
-- 234 --
Enter the Ghost of Albanact.
But why comes Albanactus' bloody ghost,
To bring a corsive to our miseries4 note
?
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 satisfy your wandering 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 vultur 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.
ACT IV.
Enter Até as before. Then Omphale, having a club in
her hand, and a lion's skin on her back; Hercules following
with a distaff. Omphale turns about, and taking
off her pantofle5 note, strikes Hercules on the head; then
they depart. Até remains.
Até.
Quem non argolici mandata severa tyranni,
Non potuit Juno vincere, vicit amor.
Stout Hercules, the mirror of the world,
Son to Alcmena and great Jupiter,
-- 235 --
After so many conquests won in field,
After so many monsters quell'd by force,
Yielded his valiant heart to Omphale,
A fearful woman, void of manly strength.
She took the club, and wore the lion's skin;
He took the wheel, and maidenly 'gan spin.
So martial Locrine, cheer'd with victory,
Falleth in love with Humber's concubine,
And so forgetteth peerless Guendolen:
His uncle Corineus storms at this,
And forceth Locrine for his grace to sue.
Lo here the sum; the process doth ensue.
[Exit.
SCENE I.
Enter Locrine, Camber, Corineus, Assaracus, Thrasimachus, and Soldiers.
Loc.
Thus from the fury of Bellona's broils,
With sound of drum, and trumpets' melody,
The Britain king returns triumphantly.
The Scythians slain with great occision6 note
,
Do equalize the grass in multitude;
And with their blood have stain'd the streaming brooks,
Offering their bodies, and their dearest blood,
As sacrifice to Albanactus' ghost.
Now, cursed Humber, hast thou paid thy due,
For thy deceits and crafty treacheries,
For all thy guiles, and damned stratagems,
With loss of life and ever-during shame.
Where are thy horses trapp'd with burnish'd gold?
Thy trampling coursers rul'd with foaming bits?
Where are thy soldiers strong and numberless?
Thy valiant captains, and thy noble peers?
Even as the country clowns with sharpest scythes
-- 236 --
Do mow the wither'd grass from off the earth,
Or as the ploughman with his piercing share
Renteth the bowels of the fertile fields,
And rippeth up the roots with razors keen,
So Locrine, with his mighty curtle-axe
Hath cropped off the heads of all thy Huns:
So Locrine's peers have daunted all thy peers,
And drove thine host unto confusion,
That thou may'st suffer penance for thy fault,
And die for murdering valiant Albanact.
Cori.
And thus, yea thus, shall all the rest be serv'd
That seek to enter Albion 'gainst our wills.
If the brave nation of the Troglodytes,
If all the coal-black Æthiopians,
If all the forces of the Amazons,
If all the hosts of the Barbarian lands,
Should dare to enter this our little world,
Soon should they rue their over-bold attempts;
That after us our progeny may say,
There lie the beasts that sought to usurp our land.
Loc.
Ay, they are beasts that seek to usurp our land,
And like to brutish beasts they shall be serv'd.
For, mighty Jove, the supreme king of heaven,
That guides the concourse of the meteors,
And rules the motion of the azure sky,
Fights always for the Britons' safety* note.
But stay; methinks I hear some shrieking noise,
That draweth near to our pavilion.
Enter Soldiers, leading in Estrild.
Est.
What prince soe'er† note, adorn'd with golden crown,
Doth sway the regal sceptre in his hand,
And thinks no chance can ever throw him down,
Or that his state shall everlasting stand,
Let him behold poor Estrild in this plight,
-- 237 --
The perfect platform of a troubled wight7 note.
Once was I guarded with Mavortial bands8 note,
Compass'd with princes of the noble blood;
Now am I fallen into my foe-men's hands,
And with my death must pacify their mood9 note
.
O life, the harbour of calamities!
O death, the haven of all miseries!
I could compare my sorrows to thy woe,
Thou wretched queen of wretched Pergamus,
But that thou viewd'st thy enemies' overthrow.
Nigh to the rock of high Caphareus
Thou saw'st their death, and then departed'st thence:
I must abide the victors' insolence.
The gods that pitied thy continual grief,
Transform'd thy corps, and with thy corps thy care:
Poor Estrild lives, despairing of relief,
For friends in trouble are but few and rare.
What, said I, few? ay, few, or none at all,
For cruel Death made havock of them all.
Thrice happy they, whose fortune was so good
To end their lives, and with their lives their woes!
Thrice hapless I, whom Fortune so withstood,
That cruelly she gave me to my foes!
O soldiers, is there any misery
To be compar'd to fortune's treachery?
Loc.
Camber, this same should be the Scythian queen.
Cam.
So may we judge by her lamenting words.
Loc.
So fair a dame mine eyes did never see;
With floods of woes she seems o'erwhelm'd to be.
Cam.
O, hath she not a cause for to be sad?
Loc. [Aside.]
If she have cause to weep for Humber's death,
-- 238 --
And shed salt tears for her overthrow,
Locrine may well bewail his proper grief,
Locrine may move his own peculiar woe.
He, being conquer'd, died a speedy death,
And felt not long his lamentable smart:
I, being conqueror, live a lingering life,
And feel the force of Cupid's sudden stroke1 note.
I gave him cause to die a speedy death;
He left me cause to wish a speedy death.
O, that sweet face, painted with nature's dye,
Those roseal cheeks mix'd with a snowy white,
That decent neck surpassing ivory,
Those comely breasts which Venus well might spite,
Are like to snares which wily fowlers wrought,
Wherein my yielding heart is prisoner caught!
The golden tresses of her dainty hair,
Which shine like rubies glittering with the sun,
Have so entrapp'd poor Locrine's love-sick heart,
That from the same no way it can be won.
How true is that which oft I heard declar'd,
One dram of joy must have a pound of care.
Est.
Hard is their fall, who from a golden crown
Are cast into a sea of wretchedness.
Loc.
Hard is their thrall, who by Cupido's frown
Are wrapp'd in waves of endless carefulness.
[Aside.
Est.
O kingdom, object to all miseries2 note!
Loc.
O love, the extream'st of all extremities!
[Aside.
[Goes into his chair.
Sold.
My lord, in ransacking the Scythian tents,
I found this lady, and to manifest
That earnest zeal I bear unto your grace,
I here present her to your majesty.
-- 239 --
2 Sold.
He lies, my lord; I found the lady first,
And here present her to your majesty.
1 Sold.
Presumptuous villain, wilt thou take my prize?
2 Sold.
Nay, rather thou depriv'st me of my right.
1 Sold.
Resign thy title, caitiff, unto me,
Or with my sword I'll pierce thy coward's loins.
2 Sold.
Soft words, good sir; 'tis not enough to speak:
A barking dog doth seldom strangers bite.
Loc.
Unreverent villains, strive you in our sight?
Take them hence, jailor, to the dungeon;
There let them lie, and try their quarrel out.
But thou, fair princess, be no whit dismay'd,
But rather joy that Locrine favours thee.
Est.
How can he favour me that slew my spouse?
Loc.
The chance of war, my love, took him from thee.
Est.
But Locrine was the causer of his death.
Loc.
He was an enemy to Locrine's state,
And slew my noble brother Albanact.
Est.
But he was link'd to me in marriage-bond,
And would you have me love his slaughterer?
Loc.
Better to live, than not to live at all3 note
.
Est.
Better to die renown'd for chastity,
Than live with shame and endless infamy.
What would the common sort report of me,
If I forget my love, and cleave to thee?
Loc.
Kings need not fear the vulgar sentences.
Est.
But ladies must regard their honest name.
Loc.
Is it a shame to live in marriage-bonds?
Est.
No, but to be a strumpet to a king.
-- 240 --
Loc.
If thou wilt yield to Locrine's burning love,
Thou shalt be queen of fair Albania.
Est.
But Guendolen will undermine my state.
Loc.
Upon mine honour thou shalt have no harm.
Est.
Then lo! brave Locrine, Estrild yields to thee;
And, by the gods, whom thou dost invocate,
By the dread ghost of thy deceased sire,
By thy right-hand, and by thy burning love,
Take pity on poor Estrild's wretched thrall.
Cori.
Hath Locrine then forgot his Guendolen,
That thus he courts the Scythian's paramour?
What, are the words of Brute so soon forgot?
Are my deserts so quickly out of mind?
Have I been faithful to thy sire now dead?
Have I protected thee from Humber's hand,
And do'st thou quit me with ingratitude?
Is this the guerdon4 note for my grievous wounds?
Is this the honour for my labours past?
Now, by my sword, Locrine, I swear to thee,
This injury of thine shall be repaid.
Loc.
Uncle, scorn you your royal sovereign,
As if we stood for cyphers in the court?
Upbraid you me with those your benefits?
Why, 'twas a subject's duty so to do.
What you have done for our deceased sire,
We know; and all know, you have your reward.
Cori.
Avaunt, proud princox5 note! brav'st thou me withal?
Assure thyself, though thou be emperor,
Thou ne'er shalt carry this unpunished.
Camb.
Pardon, my brother, noble Corineus,
Pardon this once, and it shall be amended.
Assa.
Cousin, remember Brutus' latest words,
How he desired you to cherish them:
-- 241 --
Let not this fault so much incense your mind,
Which is not yet passed all remedy.
Cori.
Then, Locrine, lo I reconcile myself;
But as thou lov'st thy life, so love thy wife.
But if thou violate those promises,
Blood and revenge shall light upon thy head.
Come, let us back to stately Troynovant,
Where all these matters shall be setteled.
Loc.
Millions of devils wait upon thy soul!
[Aside.
Legions of spirits vex thy impious ghost!
Ten thousand torments rack thy cursed bones!
Let every thing that hath the use of breath,
Be instruments and workers of thy death!
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Humber, his hair hanging over his shoulders, his arms all bloody, and a dart in his hand.
Hum.
What basilisk was hatched in this place,
Where every thing consumed is to nought?
What fearful fury haunts these cursed groves,
Where not a root is left for Humber's meat?
Hath fell Alecto, with envenom'd blasts,
Breathed forth poison in these tender plains?
Hath triple Cerberus, with contagious foam,
Sow'd aconitum 'mongst these wither'd herbs?
Hath dreadful Fames6 note, with her charming rods,
Brought barrenness on every fruitful tree?
What, not a root, no fruit, no beast, no bird,
To nourish Humber in this wilderness!
What would you more, you fiends of Erebus?
My very entrails burn for want of drink;
My bowels cry, Humber give us some meat;
But wretched Humber can give you no meat,
-- 242 --
These foul accursed groves afford no meat,
This fruitless soil, this ground, brings forth no meat,
The gods, hard-hearted gods, yield me no meat:
Then how can Humber give you any meat?
Enter Strumbo, wearing a Scotch-cap, with a pitch-fork in his hand.
Strum.
How do you, masters, how do you? how
have you scap'd hanging this long time? I'faith I
have scaped many a scouring this year; but I thank
God I have past them all with a good coraggio,
and my wife and I are in great love and charity
now, I thank my manhood and my strength. For
I will tell you, masters: Upon a certain day at night
I came home, to say the very truth, with my stomach
full of wine, and ran up into the chamber,
where my wife soberly sat rocking my little baby,
leaning her back against the bed, singing lullaby.
Now when she saw me come with my nose foremost,
thinking that I had been drunk (as I was indeed),
she snatch'd up a faggot-stick in her hand, and came
furiously marching towards me, with a big face, as
though she would have eaten me at a bit; thundering
out these words unto me: Thou drunken knave,
where hast thou been so long? I shall teach thee how to
benight me* note another time: and so she began to play
knaves trumps. Now, although I trembled, fearing
she would set her ten commandments7 note in my face,
I ran within her, and taking her lustily by the middle,
I carried her valiantly to the bed, and flinging her
upon it, flung myself upon her, and there I delighted
her so with the sport I made, that ever after
she would call me sweet husband; and so banish'd
brawling for ever. And to see the good will of the
-- 243 --
wench!—she bought with her portion a yard of land,
and by that I am now become one of the richest
men in our parish. Well, masters, what's a'clock?
It is now breakfast time; you shall see what meat I
have here for my breakfast.
[Sits down, and takes out his victuals.
Hum.
Was ever land so fruitless as this land?
Was ever grove so graceless as this grove?
Was ever soil so barren as this soil?
Oh no: the land where hungry Fames dwelt,
May no ways equalize this cursed land;
No, even the climate of the torrid zone
Brings forth more fruit than this accursed grove.
Ne'er came sweet Ceres, ne'er came Venus here;
Triptolemus, the god of husbandmen,
Ne'er sow'd his seed in this foul wilderness.
The hunger-bitten dogs of Acheron,
Chas'd from the nine-fold Pyriphlegethon,
Have set their foot-steps in this damned ground.
The iron-hearted Furies, arm'd with snakes,
Scatter'd huge Hydras over all the plains;
Which have consum'd the grass, the herbs, the trees,
Which have drunk up the flowing water-springs.
[Strumbo hearing his voice starts up, and puts his
meat in his pocket, endeavouring to hide himself.
Hum.
Thou great commander of the starry sky,
That guid'st the life of every mortal wight,
From the enclosures of the fleeting clouds
Rain down some food, or else I faint and die:
Pour down some drink, or else I faint and die.
O Jupiter, hast thou sent Mercury
In clownish shape to minister some food?
Some meat, some meat, some meat.
Strum.
O alas, sir, you are deceiv'd. I am not
Mercury; I am Strumbo.
Hum.
Give me some meat, villain; give me some meat,
Or 'gainst this rock I'll dash thy cursed brains,
-- 244 --
And rent thy bowels with my bloody hands.
Give me some meat, villain; give me some meat.
Strum.
By the faith of my body, good fellow, I
had rather give an whole ox, than that thou should'st
serve me in that sort. Dash out my brains! O horrible!
terrible! I think I have a quarry of stones in
my pocket.
[Aside.
[He makes as though he would give him some, and as he
puts out his hand, the Ghost of Albanact enters, and
strikes him on the hand. Strumbo runs out, Humber
following him.
Ghost.
Lo, here the gift of fell ambition,
Of usurpation and of treachery!
Lo, here the harms that wait upon all those
That do intrude themselves in others' lands,
Which are not under their dominion!
[Exit.
SCENE III.
Enter Locrine.
Loc.
Seven years hath aged Corineus liv'd
To Locrine's grief, and fair Estrilda's woe,
And seven years more he hopeth yet to live.
O supreme Jove, annihilate this thought!
Should he enjoy the air's fruition,
Should he enjoy the benefit of life,
Should he contemplate the radiant sun,
That makes my life equal to dreadful death?
Venus, convey this monster from the earth,
That disobeyeth thus thy sacred hests!
Cupid, convey this monster to dark hell,
That disannuls thy mother's sugar'd laws!
Mars, with thy target all beset with flames,
With murthering blade bereave him of his life,
That hindreth Locrine in his sweetest joys!
And yet, for all his diligent aspect,
His wrathful eyes, piercing like lynxes' eyes,
Well have I overmatch'd his subtilty.
-- 245 --
Nigh Durolitum, by the pleasant Ley8 note
,
Where brackish Thamis slides with silver streams,
Making a breach into the grassy downs,
A curious arch of costly marble fraught* note
Hath Locrine framed underneath the ground;
The walls whereof, garnish'd with diamonds,
With opals, rubies, glistering emeralds,
And interlac'd with sun-bright carbuncles,
Lighten the room with artificial day:
And from the Lee with water-flowing pipes
The moisture is deriv'd into this arch,
Where I have plac'd fair Estrild secretly.
Thither eftsoons, accompanied with my page,
I visit covertly my heart's desire,
Without suspicion of the meanest eye,
For love aboundeth still with policy.
And thither still means Locrine to repair,
'Till Atropos cut off mine uncle's life.
[Exit.
SCENE IV.
Enter Humber.
Hum.
O vita, misero longa, felici brevis!
Eheu malorum fames extremum malum!
Long have I lived in this desert cave,
With eating haws and miserable roots,
Devouring leaves and beastly excrements.
Caves were my beds, and stones my pillowberes,
Fear was my sleep, and horror was my dream;
For still, methought, at every boisterous blast,
Now Locrine comes, now, Humber, thou must die;
So that for fear and hunger Humber's mind
Can never rest, but always trembling stands.
-- 246 --
O, what Danubius now may quench my thirst?
What Euphrates, what light-foot Euripus
May now allay the fury of that heat,
Which raging in my entrails eats me up?
You ghastly devils of the ninefold Styx,
You damned ghosts of joyless Acheron,
You mournful souls, vex'd in Abyssus' vaults,
You coal-black devils of Avernus' pond,
Come, with your flesh-hooks rent my famish'd arms,
These arms that have sustain'd their master's life.
Come, with your razors rip my bowels up,
With your sharp fire-forks crack my starved bones:
Use me as you will, so Humber may not live.
Accursed gods, that rule the starry poles,
Accursed Jove, king of the cursed gods,
Cast down your lightning on poor Humber's head,
That I may leave this death-like life of mine!
What! hear you not? and shall not Humber die?
Nay I will die, though all the gods say nay.
And, gentle Aby, take my troubled corpse9 note,
Take it, and keep it from all mortal eyes,
That none may say, when I have lost my breath,
The very floods conspir'd 'gainst Humber's death* note.
[Flings himself into the river1 note
.
-- 247 --
Enter the Ghost of Albanact.
Ghost.
En cædem sequitur cædes, in cæde quiesco.
Humber is dead. Joy heavens, leap earth, dance trees!
Now may'st thou reach thy apples, Tantalus,
And with them feed thy hunger-bitten limbs.
Now Sisyphus, leave the tumbling of thy rock* note
,
And rest thy restless bones upon the same.
Unbind Ixion, cruel Rhadamanth,
And lay proud Humber on the whirling wheel.
Back will I post to hell-mouth Tænarus,
And pass Cocytus, to the Elysian fields,
And tell my father Brutus of this news.
[Exit.
ACT V.
Enter Até as before. Then enter Jason, leading Creon's
daughter; Medea following, with a garland in her hand.
She puts the garland on the head of Creon's daughter;
sets it on fire; and then killing her and Jason, departs.
Até.
Non tam trinacriis exæstuat Ætna cavernis,
Læsæ furtivo quam cor mulieris amore..
Medea seeing Jason leave her love,
And chuse the daughter of the Theban king,
-- 248 --
Went to her devilish charms to work revenge;
And raising up the triple Hecate,
With all the rout of the condemned fiends,
Framed a garland by her magick skill,
With which she wrought Jason and Creon's ill.
So Guendolen, seeing herself misus'd,
And Humber's paramour possess her place,
Flies to the dukedom of Cornubia,
And with her brother, stout Thrasimachus,
Gathering a power of Cornish soldiers,
Gives battle to her husband and his host,
Nigh to the river of great Mercia.
The chances of this dismal massacre
That which ensueth shortly will unfold.
[Exit.
SCENE. I.
Enter Locrine, Camber, Assaracus, and Thrasimachus.
Assa.
But tell me, cousin, dy'd my brother so?
Now who is left to helpless Albion,
That as a pillar might uphold our state,
That might strike terror to our daring foes?
Now who is left to hapless Britany,
That might defend her from the barbarous hands
Of those that still desire her ruinous fall,
And seek to work her downfal and decay?
Cam.
Ay uncle, death's our common enemy,
And none but death can match our matchless power,
Witness the fall of Albioneus' crew,
Witness the fall of Humber and his Huns;
And this foul death hath now increas'd our woe,
By taking Corineus from this life,
And in his room leaving us worlds of care.
Thra.
But none may more bewail his mournful hearse,
Than I that am the issue of his loins.
Now foul befal that cursed Humber's throat,
That was the causer of his lingring wound!
-- 249 --
Loc.
Tears cannot raise him from the dead again.—
But where's my lady mistress, Guendolen?
Thra.
In Cornwall, Locrine, is my sister now,
Providing for my father's funeral.
Loc.
And let her there provide her mourning weeds,
And mourn for ever her own widow-hood.
Ne'er shall she come within our palace gate,
To countercheck brave Locrine in his love.
Go, boy, to Durolitum, down the Ley,
Unto the arch where lovely Estrild lies;
Bring her and Sabren straight unto the court:
She shall be queen in Guendolena's room.
Let others wail for Corineus' death;
I mean not so to macerate my mind2 note,
For him that barr'd me from my heart's desire.
Thra.
Hath Locrine then forsook his Guendolen?
Is Corineus' death so soon forgot?
If there be gods in heaven, as sure there be,
If there be fiends in hell, as needs there must,
They will revenge this thy notorious wrong,
And pour their plagues upon thy cursed head.
Loc.
What, prat'st thou, peasant, to thy sovereign?
Or art thou strucken in some ecstasy?
Dost thou not tremble at our royal looks?
Dost thou not quake, when mighty Locrine frowns?
Thou beardless boy, were't not that Locrine scorns
To vex his mind with such a heartless child,
With the sharp point of this my battle-axe
I'd send thy soul to Pyriphlegethon.
Thra.
Though I be young and of a tender age,
Yet will I cope with Locrine when he dares.
My noble father with his conquering sword
Slew the two giants, kings of Aquitain.
Thrasimachus is not so degenerate,
-- 250 --
That he should fear and tremble at the looks
Or taunting words of a Venerean squire3 note.
Loc.
Menacest thou thy royal sovereign?
Uncivil, not beseeming such as you.
Injurious traitor, (for he is no less
That at defiance standeth with his king)
Leave these thy taunts, leave these thy bragging words,
Unless thou mean'st to leave thy wretched life.
Thra.
If princes stain their glorious dignity
With ugly spots of monstrous infamy,
They leese4 note their former estimation,
And throw themselves into a hell of hate.
Loc.
Wilt thou abuse my gentle patience,
As though thou didst our high displeasure scorn?
Proud boy, that thou may'st know thy prince is mov'd,
Yea, greatly mov'd at this thy swelling pride,
We banish thee for ever from our court.
Thra.
Then, losel Locrine5 note, look unto thyself;
Thrasimachus will venge this injury.
[Exit.
Loc.
Farewel, proud boy, and learn to use thy tongue6 note.
Assa.
Alas, my lord, you should have call'd to mind
The latest words that Brutus spake to you;
How he desir'd you, by the obedience
That children ought to bear unto their sire,
To love and favour lady Guendolen.
Consider this, that if the injury
-- 251 --
Do move her mind, as certainly it will,
War and dissention follows speedily.
What though her power be not so great as yours?
Have you not seen a mighty elephant
Slain by the biting of a silly mouse?
Even so the chance of war inconstant is.
Loc.
Peace, uncle, peace, and cease to talk hereof;
For he that seeks, by whispering this or that,
To trouble Locrine in his sweetest life,
Let him persuade himself to die the death.
Enter Estrild, Sabren, and a Page.
Est.
O say me, page7 note, tell me, where is the king.
Wherefore doth he send for me to the court?
Is it to die? is it to end my life?
Say me, sweet boy; tell me and do not feign.
Page.
No, trust me, madam: if you will credit the
little honesty that is yet left me, there is no such danger
as you fear. But prepare yourself; yonder's the
king.
Est.
Then, Estrild, lift thy dazzled spirits up,
And bless that blessed time, that day, that hour,
That warlike Locrine first did favour thee.
Peace to the king of Britany, my love!
[Kneeling.
Peace to all those that love and favour him!
Loc.
Doth Estrild fall with such submission
Before her servant, king of Albion?
Arise, fair lady, leave this lowly cheer;
[Taking her up.
Lift up those looks that cherish Locrine's heart,
That I may freely view that roseal face,
Which so intangled hath my love-sick breast.
Now to the court, where we will court it out,
-- 252 --
And pass the night and day in Venus' sports.
Frolick, brave peers; be joyful with your king.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Guendolen, Thrasimachus, Madan, and Soldiers.
Guen.
You gentle winds, that with your modest blasts
Pass through the circuit of the heavenly vault,
Enter the clouds, unto the throne of Jove,
And bear my prayers to his all-hearing ears,
For Locrine hath forsaken Guendolen,
And learn'd to love proud Humber's concubine.
You happy sprites, that in the concave sky
With pleasant joy enjoy your sweetest love,
Shed forth those tears with me, which then you shed
When first you woo'd your ladies to your wills:
Those tears are fittest for my woeful case,
Since Locrine shuns my nothing-pleasant face.
Blush heavens, blush sun, and hide thy shining beams;
Shadow thy radiant locks in gloomy clouds;
Deny thy chearful light unto the world,
Where nothing reigns but falshood and deceit.
What said I? falshood? ay, that filthy crime,
For Locrine hath forsaken Guendolen.
Behold the heavens do wail for Guendolen;
The shining sun doth blush for Guendolen;
The liquid air doth weep for Guendolen;
The very ground doth groan for Guendolen.
Ay, they are milder than the Britain king,
For he rejecteth luckless Guendolen.
Thra.
Sister, complaints are bootless in this cause.
This open wrong must have an open plague,
This plague must be repaid with grievous war,
This war must finish with Locrinus' death:
His death must soon extinguish our complaints.
-- 253 --
Guen.
O no; his death will more augment my woes:
He was my husband, brave Thrasimachus,
More dear to me than the apple of mine eye;
Nor can I find in heart to work his scathe8 note
.
Thra.
Madam, if not your proper injuries,
Nor my exile, can move you to revenge,
Think on our father Corineus' words;
His words to us stand always for a law.
Should Locrine live, that caus'd my father's death?
Should Locrine live, that now divorceth you?
The heavens, the earth, the air, the fire reclaims9 note;
And then why should all we deny the same?
Guen.
Then henceforth farewel womanish complaints!
All childish pity henceforth then farewel!
But cursed Locrine, look unto thyself;
For Nemesis, the mistress of revenge,
Sits arm'd at all points on our dismal blades:
And cursed Estrild, that inflam'd his heart,
Shall, if I live, die a reproachful death.
Mad.
Mother, though nature makes me to lament
My luckless father's froward lechery,
Yet, for he wrongs my lady mother thus,
I, if I could, myself would work his death.
Thra.
See, madam, see! the desire of revenge
Is in the children of a tender age.
Forward, brave soldiers, into Mercia,
Where we shall brave the coward to his face.
[Exeunt.
-- 254 --
SCENE III.
Enter Locrine, Estrild, Sabren, Assaracus, and Soldiers.
Loc.
Tell me, Assaracus, are the Cornish chuffs1 note
In such great number come to Mercia?
And have they pitched there their petty host,
So close unto our royal mansion?
Assa.
They are, my lord, and mean incontinent
To bid defiance to your majesty.
Loc.
It makes me laugh, to think that Guendolen
Should have the heart to come in arms against me.
Est.
Alas, my lord, the horse will run amain,
When as the spur doth gall him to the bone:
Jealousy, Locrine, hath a wicked sting.
Loc.
Sayst thou so, Estrild, beauty's paragon?
Well, we will try her choler to the proof,
And make her know, Locrine can brook no braves.
March on, Assaracus; thou must lead the way,
And bring us to their proud pavilion.
[Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
Thunder and lightning. Enter the Ghost of Corineus.
Ghost.
Behold, the circuit of the azure sky
Throws forth sad throbs, and grievous suspires,
Prejudicating Locrine's overthrow.
The fire casteth forth sharp darts of flames;
The great foundation of the triple world
Trembleth and quaketh with a mighty noise,
Presaging bloody massacres at hand.
The wandering birds that flutter in the dark,
(When hellish night in cloudy chariot seated* note
,
-- 255 --
Casteth her mists on shady Tellus' face,
With sable mantles covering all the earth* note
)
Now flies abroad amid the chearful day,
Foretelling some unwonted misery.
The snarling curs of darken'd Tartarus,
Sent from Avernus' ponds by Rhadamanth,
With howling ditties pester every wood.
The watry ladies9Q13472 note, and the lightfoot fawns,
And all the rabble of the woody nymphs,
All trembling hide themselves in shady groves,
And shroud themselves in hideous hollow pits.
The boisterous Boreas thundreth forth revenge:
The stony rocks cry out on sharp revenge:
The thorny bush pronounceth dire revenge.
[Alarum.
Now, Corineus, stay and see revenge,
And feed thy soul with Locrine's overthrow.
Behold they come; the trumpets call them forth;
The roaring drums summon the soldiers.
Lo where their army glistereth on the plains.
Throw forth thy lightning, mighty Jupiter,
And pour thy plagues on cursed Locrine's head!
[Stands aside.
Enter Locrine, Estrild, Assaracus, Sabren and their Soldiers
at one side; Thrasimachus, Guendolen, Madan,
and their followers at another.
Loc.
What, is the tiger started from his cave?
Is Guendolen come from Cornubia,
That thus she braveth Locrine to the teeth?
And hast thou found thine armour, pretty boy,
Accompanied with these thy straggling mates?
-- 256 --
Believe me, but this enterprize was bold,
And well deserveth commendation.
Guen.
Ay, Locrine, traiterous Locrine, we are come,
With full pretence to seek thine overthrow.
What have I done, that thou shouldst scorn me thus?
What have I said, that thou shouldst me reject?
Have I been disobedient to thy words?
Have I bewray'd thy arcane secrecy3 note?
Have I dishonoured thy marriage bed
With filthy crimes, or with lascivious lusts?
Nay, it is thou that hast dishonour'd it;
Thy filthy mind, o'ercome with filthy lusts,
Yieldeth unto affection's filthy darts.
Unkind, thou wrong'st thy first and truest feere4 note
;
Unkind, thou wrong'st thy best and dearest friend;
Unkind, thou scorn'st all skilful Brutus' laws,
Forgetting father, uncle, and thyself.
Est.
Believe me, Locrine, but the girl is wise,
And well would seem to make a vestal nun:
How finely frames she her oration!
Thra.
Locrine, we came not here to fight with words,
Words that can never win the victory;
But, for you are so merry in your frumps5 note,
Unsheath your swords, and try it out by force,
That we may see who hath the better hand.
Loc.
Think'st thou to dare me, bold Thrasimachus?
Think'st thou to fear me with thy taunting braves?
Or do we seem too weak to cope with thee?
-- 257 --
Soon shall I shew thee my fine cutting blade,
And with my sword, the messenger of death,
Seal thee an acquittance for thy bold attempts.
[Exeunt.
Alarum. Enter Locrine, Assaracus, and Soldiers at one
door; Guendolen, Thrasimachus, and his forces at another.
They fight. Locrine and his followers are driven
back. Then re-enter Locrine and Estrild.
Loc.
O fair Estrilda, we have lost the field;
Thrasimachus hath won the victory,
And we are left to be a laughing-stock,
Scoff'd at by those that are our enemies.
Ten thousand soldiers, arm'd with sword and shield,
Prevail against an hundred thousand men.
Thrasimachus, incens'd with fuming ire,
Rageth amongst the faint-heart soldiers,
Like to grim Mars, when, cover'd with his targe,
He fought with Diomedes in the field,
Close by the banks of silver Simois.
[Alarum.
O lovely Estrild, now the chase begins:
Ne'er shall we see the stately Troynovant,
Mounted on coursers garnish'd all with pearls;
Ne'er shall we view the fair Concordia,
Unless as captives we be thither brought.
Shall Locrine then be taken prisoner
By such a youngling as Thrasimachus?
Shall Guendolena captivate my love?
Ne'er shall mine eyes behold that dismal hour,
Ne'er will I view that ruthful spectacle;
For with my sword, this sharp curtle-axe,
I'll cut in sunder my accursed heart.
But, O you judges of the nine-fold Styx,
Which with incessant torments rack the ghosts
Within the bottomless abyssus' pits;
You gods, commanders of the heav'nly spheres,
Whose will and laws irrevocable stand,
-- 258 --
Forgive, forgive, this foul accursed sin!
Forget, O gods, this foul condemned fault!
And now, my sword, that in so many fights
[Kisses his sword.
Hast sav'd the life of Brutus and his son,
End now his life that wisheth still for death,
Work now his death that wisheth still for death,
Work now his death that hateth still his life!
Farewel, fair Estrild, beauty's paragon,
Fram'd in the front of forlorn miseries!
Ne'er shall mine eyes behold thy sun-shine eyes,
But when we meet in the Elysian fields:
Thither I go before with hasten'd pace.
Farewel, vain world, and thy inticing snares!
Farewel, foul sin, and thy inticing pleasures!
And welcome, death, the end of mortal smart,
Welcome to Locrine's over-burthen'd heart!
[Stabs himself, and dies.
Est.
Break, heart, with sobs and grievous suspires!
Stream forth you tears from forth my watry eyes;
Help me to mourn for warlike Locrine's death!
Pour down your tears, you watry regions,
For mighty Locrine is bereft of life!
O fickle Fortune! O unstable world!
What else are all things that this globe contains,
But a confused chaos of mishaps?
Wherein, as in a glass, we plainly see
That all our life is but a tragedy;
Since mighty kings are subject to mishap,
(Ay, mighty kings are subject to mishap;)
Since martial Locrine is bereft of life.
Shall Estrild live then after Locrine's death?
Shall love of life bar her from Locrine's sword?
O no; this sword that hath bereft his life,
Shall now deprive me of my fleeting soul.
Strengthen these hands, O mighty Jupiter,
That I may end my woeful misery!
Locrine, I come; Locrine, I follow thee.
[Kills herself.
-- 259 --
Alarum. Enter Sabren.
Sab.
What doleful sight, what ruthful spectacle
Hath Fortune offer'd to my hapless heart?
My father slain with such a fatal sword,
My mother murder'd by a mortal wound!
What Thracian dog, what barbarous Myrmidon6 note
,
Would not relent at such a ruthful case?
What fierce Achilles, what hard stony flint,
Would not bemoan this mournful tragedy?
Locrine, the map of magnanimity,
Lies slaughter'd in this foul accursed cave.
Estrild, the perfect pattern of renown,
Nature's sole wonder, in whose beauteous breasts
All heavenly grace and virtue was enshrin'd,
Both massacred, are dead within this cave;
And with them dies fair Pallas and sweet Love.
Here lies a sword, and Sabren hath a heart;
This blessed sword shall cut my cursed heart,
And bring my soul unto my parents' ghosts,
That they that live and view our tragedy,
May mourn our case with mournful plaudite.
[Attempts to kill herself.
Ah me, my virgin hands are too too weak!
To penetrate the bulwark of my breast.
My fingers, us'd to tune the amorous lute,
Are not of force to hold this steely glaive7 note
:
So I am left to wail my parents' death,
Not able for to work my proper death.
Ah, Locrine, honour'd for thy nobleness,
-- 260 --
Ah, Estrild, famous for thy constancy,
Ill may they fare that wrought your mortal ends!
Enter Guendolen, Thrasimachus, Madan, and Soldiers.
Guen.
Search soldiers, search; find Locrine and his love,
Find the proud strumpet, Humber's concubine,
That I may change those her so pleasing looks
To pale and ignominious aspect.
Find me the issue of their cursed love,
Find me young Sabren, Locrine's only joy,
That I may glut my mind with lukewarm blood,
Swiftly distilling from the bastard's breast.
My father's ghost still haunts me for revenge,
Crying, revenge my over-hasten'd death.
My brother's exile and mine own divorce
Banish remorse clean from my brazen heart,
All mercy from mine adamantine breasts.
Thra.
Nor doth thy husband, lovely Guendolen,
That wonted was to guide our stayless steps,
Enjoy this light: see where he murder'd lies
By luckless lot and froward frowning fate;
And by him lies his lovely paramour,
Fair Estrild, gored with a dismal sword,
And, as it seems, both murder'd by themselves;
Clasping each other in their feebled arms,
With loving zeal, as if for company
Their uncontented corps were yet content
To pass foul Styx in Charon's ferry-boat.
Guen.
And hath proud Estrild then prevented me?
Hath she escaped Guendolena's wrath,
By violently cutting off her life?
Would God she had the monstrous Hydra's lives,
That every hour she might have died a death
Worse than the swing of old Ixion's wheel,
And every hour revive to die again!
As Tityus, bound to houseless Caucasus,
-- 261 --
Doth feed the substance of his own mishap,
And every day for want of food doth die,
And every night doth live, again to die.
But stay; methinks, I hear some fainting voice,
Mournfully weeping for their luckless death.
Sab.
You mountain nymphs which in these deserts reign,
Cease off your hasty chase of savage beasts!
Prepare to see a heart oppress'd with care;
Address your ears to hear a mournful stile!
No human strength, no work can work my weal,
Care in my heart so tyrant-like doth deal.
You Dryades, and light-foot Satyri,
You gracious fairies, which at even-tide
Your closets leave, with heavenly beauty stor'd,
And on your shoulders spread your golden locks;
You savage bears, in caves and darken'd dens,
Come wail with me the martial Locrine's death;
Come mourn with me for beauteous Estrild's death!
Ah! loving parents, little do you know
What sorrow Sabren suffers for your thrall.
Guen.
But may this be, and is it possible?
Lives Sabren yet to expiate my wrath?
Fortune, I thank thee for this courtesy;
And let me never see one prosperous hour,
If Sabren die not a reproachful death.
Sab.
Hard-hearted Death, that, when the wretched call,
Art farthest off, and seldom hear'st at all;
But in the midst of fortune's good success
Uncalled com'st, and sheer'st out life in twain;
When will that hour, that blessed hour draw nigh,
When poor distressed Sabren may be gone?
Sweet Atropos, cut off my fatal thread!
What art thou, Death* note? shall not poor Sabren die?
-- 262 --
Guen.
Yes, damsel, yes, Sabren shall surely die,
Though all the world should seek to save her life.
And not a common death shall Sabren die,
But, after strange and grievous punishments,
Shortly inflicted on thy bastard's head,
Thou shalt be cast into the cursed streams,
And feed the fishes with thy tender flesh.
Sab.
And think'st thou then, thou cruel homicide,
That these thy deeds shall be unpunished?
No traitor, no; the gods will venge these wrongs,
The fiends of hell will mark these injuries.
Never shall these blood-sucking mastiff curs
Bring wretched Sabren to her latest home.
For I myself, in spite of thee and thine,
Mean to abridge my former destinies;
And that which Locrine's sword could not perform,
This present stream shall present bring to pass.
[She drowns herself.
Guen.
One mischief follows on another's neck.
Who would have thought so young a maid as she
With such a courage would have sought her death?
And, for because this river was the place
Where little Sabren resolutely died,
Sabren for ever shall this same be call'd8 note
.
-- 263 --
And as for Locrine, our deceased spouse,
Because he was the son of mighty Brute,
To whom we owe our country, lives, and goods,
He shall be buried in a stately tomb,
Close by his aged father Brutus' bones,
With such great pomp and great solemnity,
As well beseems so brave a prince as he.
Let Estrild lie without the shallow vaults,
Without the honour due unto the dead,
Because she was the author of this war.
Retire, brave followers, unto Troynovant,
Where we will celebrate these exequies,
And place young Locrine in his father's tomb.
[Exeunt.
Enter Até.
Até.
Lo! here the end of lawless treachery9 note
,
Of usurpation and ambitious pride.
And they that for their private amours dare
Turmoil our land, and set their broils abroach,
Let them be warned by these premises.
And as a woman was the only cause
That civil discord was then stirred up,
So let us pray for that renowned maid
That eight and thirty years the scepter sway'd1 note
,
-- 264 --
In quiet peace and sweet felicity;
And every wight that seeks her grace's smart,
Would that this sword were pierced in his heart2!
[Exit.
