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 pyramidés,
Which with their top surmount the firmament.
Cam. The arm-strong offspring of the doubled night,*
Stout Hercules, Alcmena's mighty son,
That tamed the monsters of the threefold world,
And rid the oppressed from the tyrants' yokes,
Did never show such valiantness in fight,
As I will now for noble Albanact.
Cor. Full fourscore years hath Corineus lived,
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 foemen's brains :
And with this club I'll break the strong array
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 fight,
Either for weakness, or for cowardice,
Let him not boast that Brutus was his eam,‡
Or that brave Corineus was his sire.
Loc. Then courage, soldiers, first for your safety,
Next for your peace, last for your victory.
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.
* I. e. the night protracted to twice its usual length, which Jupiter passed with Alcmena. ‡ Uncle.
Hum. Where may I find some desert wilderness,
Where I may breathe out curses as I would,
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 urselves in Puryflegethon ;*
Come all ll of you
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 wat'ry gulf!
Would God we had arrived upon the shore
Where Polyphemus and the Cyclops dwell ;
Or where the bloody Anthropophagi
With greedy jaws devour the wandering wights!
Enter the GHOST of ALBANACT.
But why comes Albanactus' bloody ghost,
To bring a cor'sivet to our miseries?
Is't not enough to suffer shameful flight,
But we must be tormented now with ghosts,
With apparitions fearful to behold ?
Ghost. Revenge, revenge for blood.
Hum. So, nought will 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
* I. e. Pyriphlegethon, Phlegethon.
To Tantal's hunger, or Ixion's wheel,
Or to the vulture of Prometheus,
Rather than that this murder 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!
Enter ATE 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 pantofle, strikes HERCULES on the head; then they depart. ATE 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,
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 cub, 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.
Enter LOCRINE, CAMBER, CORINEUS, ASSARACUS, THRASI
MACHUS, 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 occision,†
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 ruled 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
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 mayst suffer penance for thy fault,
And die for murdering valiant Albanact.
Cori. And thus, yea thus, shall all the rest be served
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 served.
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' saféty.
But stay; methinks I hear some shrieking noise,
That draweth near to our pavilion.
Enter Soldiers, leading in ESTRILD.
Est. What prince soe'er, 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,
The perfect platform* of a troubled wight.
Once was I guarded with Mavortial bands,†
Compass'd with princes of the noblest blood;
Now am I fallen into my foemen's hands,
And with my death must pacify their mood.‡
O life, the harbour of calamities!
O death, the haven of all miseries !
I could compare my sorrows to thy woe,
† Mavors, a poetical name for Mars.
Thou wretched queen of wretched Pergamus,
But that thou view'dst thy enemy's overthrow.
Nigh to the rock of high Caphareus
Thou saw'st their death and then departedst 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 havoc 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 compared 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,
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 dart.
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 declared,
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.
Est. O kingdom, object § to all miseries!
|