Locrine

Act V

PROLOGUE Scene I. A chamber in the Royal Palace Scene II. The camp of Gwendoline Scene III. The camp of Locrine Scene IV. The field of battle EPILOGUE

Dramatis Personæ

ATE, the Goddess of Revenge

BRUTUS, King of Britain LOCRINE, son to Brutus CAMBER, son to Brutus ALBANACT, son to Brutus MADAN, son of Locrine and Gwendoline ASSARACHUS, follower of Brutus CORINEUS, follower of Brutus THRASIMACHUS, son to Corineus GWENDOLINE, daughter to Corineus, married to Locrine DEBON, an old Officer.

HUMBER, King of Scythia ESTRILD, wife to Humber HUBBA, son to Humber SEGAR, a Scythian Officer TRUSSIER, a Scythian Officer

A CAPTAIN under Albanact STRUMBO, a clown TRUMPART, his man DOROTHY, wife to Strumbo OLIVER, a rustic WILLIAM, son to Oliver MARGERY, daughter to Oliver

GHOST of Albanact GHOST of Corineus two SOLDIERS A PAGE SABREN, daughter of Locrine and Estrild

Act I

PROLOGUE

Enter Ate with thunder and lightning all in black, with a burning torch in one hand, and a bloody sword in the other hand, and presently let there come forth a Lion running after a Bear or any other beast; then come forth an Archer who must kill the Lion in a dumb show, and then depart. Remain Ate.

ATE. In pœnam sectatur & umbra. A Mighty Lion, ruler of the woods, Of wondrous strength and great proportion, With hideous noise scaring the trembling trees, With yelling clamors shaking all the earth, Traverst the groves, and chased the wandering beasts. Long did he range amid the shady trees, And drave the silly beasts before his face, When suddenly from out a thorny bush, A dreadful Archer with his bow ybent, Wounded the Lion with a dismal shaft. So he him stroke that it drew forth the blood, And filled his furious heart with fretting ire; But all in vain he threatened teeth and paws, And sparkleth fire from forth his flaming eyes, For the sharp shaft gave him a mortal wound. So valiant Brute, the terror of the world, Whose only looks did scare his enemies, The Archer death brought to his latest end. Oh what may long abide above this ground, In state of bliss and healthful happiness.

SCENE I.

Enter Brutus carried in a chair, Locrine, Camber, Albanact, Corineus, Gwendoline, Assarachus, Debon, Thrasimachus.

BRUTUS. Most loyal Lords and faithful followers, That have with me, unworthy General, Passed the greedy gulf of Ocean, Leaving the confines of fair Italy, Behold, your Brutus draweth nigh his end, And I must leave you, though against my will. My sinews shrunk, my numbed senses fail, A chilling cold possesseth all my bones; Black ugly death, with visage pale and wan, Presents himself before my dazzled eyes, And with his dart prepared is to strike. These arms my Lords, these never daunted arms, That oft have quelled the courage of my foes, And eke dismay’d my neighbours arrogancy, 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 odor throws, Mongst all the daughters of proud Lebanon. This heart, my Lords, this near appalled heart, That was a terror to the bordering lands, A doeful scourge unto my neighbor 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 fiery circuit of the heavens, Sliding along the air’s celestial vaults, Is rent and cloven to the very roots. In vain, therefore, I strangle with this foe; Then welcome death, since God will have it so.

ASSARACHUS. Alas, my Lord, we sorrow at your case, And grieve to see your person vexed thus; But what so ere the fates determined have, It lieth not in us to disannul, And he that would annihilate his mind, 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, Cease your laments, and leave your grievous moan.

CORINEUS. Your highness knows how many victories, How many trophies I erected have Triumphantly in every place we came. The Grecian Monarch, warlike Pandrassus, And all the crew of the Molossians; Goffarius, the arm strong King of Gauls, And all the borders of great Aquitaine, Have felt the force of our victorious arms, And to their cost beheld our chivalry. Where ere Aurora, handmaid of the Sun, Where ere the Sun, bright guardiant of the day, Where ere the joyful day with cheerful light, Where ere the light illuminates the world, The Trojan’s glory flies with golden wings, Wings that do soar beyond fell ennui’s flight. 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.

BRUTUS. Nay, Corineus, you mistake my mind In construing wrong the cause of my complaints. I feared to yield myself to fatal death! God knows it was the least of all my thoughts; A greater care torments my very bones, And makes me tremble at the thought of it, And in you, Lordings, doth the substance lie.

THRASI. Most noble Lord, if ought your loyal peers Accomplish may, to ease your lingering 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, Scarreth the ghosts with high resounding noise. We’ll either rent the bowels of the earth, Searching the entrails of the brutish earth, Or, with his Ixion’s overdaring son, Be bound in chains of everduring steel.

BRUTUS. Then harken 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, Covered my manly cheeks with youthful down, Th’ unhappy slaughter of my luckless sire, Drove me and old Assarachus, mine eame, As exiles from the bounds of Italy: So that perforce we were constrained to fly To Graecia’s Monarch noble Pandrassus. There I alone did undertake your cause, There I restored your antique liberty, Though Graecia frowned, and all Mollossia stormed, Though brave Antigonus, with martial band, In pitched field encountered me and mine, Though Pandrassus and his contributories, With all the route 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 forced him to agree To certain articles which there we did propound. From Graecia through the boisterous Hellespont, We came unto the fields of Lestrigon, Whereas our brother Corineus was, Since when we passed the Cicillian gulf, And so transfretting the Illirian sea, Arrived on the coasts of Aquitaine, Where with an army of his barbarous Gauls Goffarius and his brother Gathelus Encountering with our host, sustained the foil. And for your sakes my Turnus there I lost, Turnus that slew six hundred men at arms All in an hour, with his sharp battle-axe. From thence upon the strons of Albion To Corus haven happily we came, And quelled the giants, come of Albion’s race, With Gogmagog son to Samotheus, The cursed Captain of that damned crew. 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 employed.

CORINEUS. When first I followed thee & 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 diverse broils, I showed 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 received, A grateful gift given by a gracious King: And for this gift, this life and dearest blood, Will Corineus spend for Brutus good.

DEB. And what my friend, brave prince, hath vowed to you, The same will Debon do unto his end.

BRUTUS. Then, loyal peers, since you are all agreed, And resolute to follow Brutus hosts, Favor my sons, favor these Orphans, Lords, And shield them from the dangers of their foes. Locrine, the column of my family, And only pillar of my weakened 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 honor’s gate; For if thou follow sacred virtue’s lore, Thou shalt be crowned with a laurel branch, And wear a wreath of sempiternal fame, Sorted amongst the glorious happy ones.

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