[Strumbo, hearing his voice, shall start up and put meat in his pocket, seeking to hide himself.]
Thou great commander of the starry sky, That guidest the life of every mortal wight, From the inclosures of the fleeting clouds Fain 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!
STRUMBO. O, alas, sir, ye are deceived. I am not Mercury; I am Strumbo.
HUMBER. Give me some meat, villain; give me some meat, Or gainst this rock I'll dash thy cursed brains, And rent thy bowels with my bloody hands. Give me some meat, villain; give me some meat!
STRUMBO. By the faith of my body, good fellow, I had rather give an whole oxe than that thou shouldst serve me in that sort. Dash out my brains? O horrible! terrible! I think I have a quarry of stones in my pocket.
[Let him make as though he would give him some, and as he putteth out his hand, enter the ghost of Albanact, and strike him on the hand: and so Strumbo runs out, Humber following him. Exit.]
ALBANACT'S 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 other's lands, Which are not under their dominion.
[Exit.]
ACT IV. SCENE III. A chamber in the Royal Palace.
[Enter Locrine alone.]
LOCRINE. Seven years hath aged Corineius lived, To Locrine's grief, and fair Estrild's woe, And seven years more he hopeth yet to live. Oh 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 fro the earth, That disobeyeth thus thy sacred hests! Cupid, convey this monster to dark hell, That disanulls thy mother's sugared 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 Linces' eyes, Well have I overmatched his subtilty. Nigh Deurolitum, by the pleasant Lee, Where brackish Thamis slides with silver streams, Making a breach into the grassy downs, A curious arch, of costly marble fraught, Hath Locrine framed underneath the ground; The walls whereof, garnished with diamonds, With ophirs, rubies, glistering emeralds, And interlast with sun-bright carbuncles, Lighten the room with artificial day: And from the Lee with water-flowing pipes The moisture is derived into this arch, Where I have placed fair Estrild secretly. Thither eftsoons, accompanied with my page, I covertly visit 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.]
ACT IV. SCENE IV. The entrance of a cave, near which runs the river, afterward the Humber.]
[Enter Humber alone, saying:]
HUMBER. O vita misero longa, foelici 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 pillow-bears, Fear was my sleep, and horror was my dream, For still me thought, 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, O, what Danubius now may quench my thirst? What Euphrates, what lightfoot 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, vexed in Abyss' vaults, You coalblack devils of Avernus' pond, Come, with your fleshhooks rent my famished arms, These arms that have sustained their master's life. Come, with your razors rip my bowels up, With your sharp fireforks crack my sterved 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 deathlike 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 corps, Take it and keep it from all mortal eyes, That none may say, when I have lost my breath, The very floods conspired gainst Humber's death.