LOCRINE. Uncle, scorn you your royal sovereign, As if we stood for cyphers in the court? Upbraid you me with those your benefits? Why, it was a subject's duty so to do. What you have done for our deceased sire, We know, and all know you have your reward.
CORINEIUS. Avaunt, proud princox; bravest thou me withall? Assure thy self, though thou be Emperor, Thou ne'er shalt carry this unpunished.
CAMBER. Pardon my brother, noble Corineius; Pardon this once and it shall be amended.
ASSARACHUS. Cousin, remember Brutus' latest words, How he desired you to cherish them; Let not this fault so much incense your mind, Which is not yet passed all remedy.
CORINEIUS. Then, Locrine, lo, I reconcile my self; But as thou lovest 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 Troinouant, Where all these matters shall be settled.
LOCRINE.
[To himself.]
Millions of devils wait upon thy soul! 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.]
ACT IV. SCENE II. A forest.
[Enter Humber alone, his hair hanging over his shoulders, his arms all bloody, and a dart in one hand.]
HUMBER. 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 invenomed blasts, Breathed forth poison in these tender plains? Hath triple Cerberus, with contagious foam, Sowed Aconitum mongst these withered herbs? Hath dreadful Fames 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; 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 with a pitchfork, and a scotch-cap, saying:]
STRUMBO. How do you, masters, how do you? how have you scaped hanging this long time? Yfaith, I have scaped many a scouring this year; but I thank God I have past them all with a good couragio, couragio, & my wife & I are in great love and charity now, I thank my manhood & 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 snatched 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 beknight me an other time; and so she began to play knaves' trumps. Now, although I trembled, fearing she would set her ten commandments 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 my self upon her; and there I delighted her so with the sport I made, that ever after she would call me sweet husband, and so banished brawling for ever. And to see the good will of the 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? is it now breakfast time; you shall see what meat I have here for my breakfast.
[Let him sit down and pull out his vittails.]
HUMBER. 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 wise 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 sowed his seed in this foul wilderness. The hunger-bitten dogs of Acheron, Chased from the ninefold Puriflegiton, Have set their footsteps in this damned ground. The iron hearted Furies, armed with snakes, Scattered huge Hydras over all the plains, Which have consumed the grass, the herbs, the trees; Which have drunk up the flowing water springs.