Alba.
Brave cavaliers, princes of Albany,
Whose trenchant blades, with our deceased sire

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 careers^{1 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.

As fortunate as was Polycrates^{2 note}

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 brenning^{3 note}.

This honest fellow and I had our mansion-cottage in the suburbs of this city, hard by the temple of

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.

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.

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 boy^{4 note},
Nor do I fear thy foolish insolency:
And, but thou better use thy bragging blade,
Than thou dost rule thy overflowing tongue,

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 shield^{5 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.

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,

And spoileth Flora of her chequer'd grass^{6 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,

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 Roydon^{7 note}

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.