THE LAMENTABLE TRAGEDY OF LOCRINE
The eldest son of King Brutus, discoursing the wars of the Britains and Huns,
with their discomfiture, the Britain’s victory with their accidents, and the
death of Albanact.
Contents
ACT I
PROLOGUE
Scene I.
Scene II. The house of Strumbo
Scene III. An apartment in the palace
ACT II
PROLOGUE
Scene I.
Scene II.
Scene III. The camp of Albanact
Scene IV. The camp of Humber
Scene V. Another part of the field of battle
Scene VI. The camp of the Huns
ACT III
PROLOGUE
Scene I. Troynouant. An apartment in the Royal Palace
Scene II. The banks of the river, afterward the Humber
Scene III. Before the hut of a peasant
Scene IV. The camp of Locrine
Scene V. The field of battle
Scene VI. Another part of the field
ACT IV
PROLOGUE
Scene I. The camp of Locrine
Scene II. A forest
Scene III. A chamber in the Royal Palace
Scene IV. The entrance of a cave, near which runs the river, afterward the Humber
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.
[_Exit._]
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.
LOCRINE.
If Locrine do not follow your advise,
And bear himself in all things like a prince
That seeks to amplify the great renown
Left unto him for an inheritage
By those that were his ancestors,
Let me be flung into the Ocean,
And swallowed in the bowels of the earth,
Or let the ruddy lightning of great Jove
Descend upon this my devoted head.
BRUTUS.
[_Taking Gwendoline by the hand_.]
But for I see you all to be in doubt,
Who shall be matched with our royal son,
Locrine, receive this present at my hand,
A gift more rich than are the wealthy mines
Found in the bowels of America.
Thou shalt be spoused to fair Gwendoline;
Love her, and take her, for she is thine own,
If so thy uncle and herself do please.
CORINEUS.
And herein how your highness honors me
It cannot now be in my speech expressed;
For careful parents glory not so much
At their honour and promotion,
As for to see the issue of their blood
Seated in honor and prosperity.
GWENDOLINE.
And far be it from any maiden’s thoughts
To contradict her aged father’s will.
Therefore, since he to whom I must obey
Hath given me now unto your royal self,
I will not stand aloof from off the lure,
Like crafty dames that most of all deny
That which they most desire to possess.
BRUTUS.
[_Turning to Locrine. Locrine kneeling_.]
Then now, my son, thy part is on the stage,
For thou must bear the person of a King.
[_Puts the Crown on his head._]
Locrine, stand up, and wear the regal Crown,
And think upon the state of Majesty,
That thou with honor well mayest wear the crown.
And if thou tendrest these my latest words,
As thou requirest my soul to be at rest,
As thou desirest thine own security,
Cherish and love thy new betrothed wife.
LOCRINE.
No longer let me well enjoy the crown,
Than I do honour peerless Gwendoline.
BRUTUS.
Camber.
CAMBER.
My Lord.
BRUTUS.
The glory of mine age,
And darling of thy mother Imogen,
Take thou the South for thy dominion.
From thee there shall proceed a royal race,
That shall maintain the honor of this land,
And sway the regal scepter with their hands.
[_Turning to Albanact._]
And Albanact, thy father’s only joy,
Youngest in years, but not the youngest in mind,
A perfect pattern of all chivalry,
Take thou the North for thy dominion,
A country full of hills and ragged rocks,
Replenished with fierce untamed beasts,
As correspondent to thy martial thoughts,
Live long, my sons, with endless happiness,
And bear firm concordance amongst your selves.
Obey the counsels of these fathers grave,
That you may better bear out violence.—
But suddenly, through weakness of my age,
And the defect of youthful puissance,
My malady increaseth more and more,
And cruel death hasteneth his quickened pace,
To dispossess me of my earthly shape.
Mine eyes wax dim, overcast with clouds of age,
The pangs of death compass my crazed bones;
Thus to you all my blessings I bequeath,
And with my blessings, this my fleeting soul
My glass is run, and all my miseries
Do end with life; death closeth up mine eyes,
My soul in haste flies to the Elysian fields.
[_He dieth._]
LOCRINE.
Accursed stars, damned and accursed stars,
To abbreviate my noble father’s life!
Hard-hearted gods, and too envious fates,
Thus to cut off my father’s fatal thread!
Brutus, that was a glory to us all,
Brutus, that was a terror to his foes,
Alas, too soon, by Demagorgon’s knife,
The martial Brutus is bereft of life!
CORINEUS.
No sad complaints may move just Aeacus,
No dreadful threats can fear judge Rhodomanth.
Wert thou as strong as mighty Hercules,
That tamed the huge monsters of the world,
Playedst thou as sweet, on the sweet sounding lute,
As did the spouse of fair Eurydice,
That did enchant the waters with his noise,
And made stones, birds, and beasts, to lead a dance,
Constrained the hilly trees to follow him,
Thou couldst not move the judge of Erebus,
Nor move compassion in grim Pluto’s heart;
For fatal Mors expecteth all the world,
And every man must tread the way of death.
Brave Tantalus, the valiant Pelops’ sire,
Guest to the gods, suffered untimely death,
And old Tithonus, husband to the morn,
And eke grim Minos, whom just Jupiter
Deigned to admit unto his sacrifice.
The thundering trumpets of blood-thirsty Mars,
The fearful rage of fell Tisiphone,
The boistrous waves of humid Ocean,
Are instruments and tools of dismal death.
Then, novel cousin, cease to mourn his chance,
Whose age & years were signs that he should die.
It reseth now that we inter his bones,
That was a terror to his enemies.
Take up the course, and, princes, hold him dead,
Who while he lived, upheld the Trojan state.
Sound drums and trumpets; march to Troinouant,
There to provide our chieftain’s funeral.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE II. The house of Strumbo
Enter Strumbo above in a gown, with ink and paper in his hand,
saying:—.
STRUMBO.
Either the four elements, the seven planets, and all the particular
stars of the pole Antastick, are adversative against me, or else I was
begotten and born in the wane of the Moon, when every thing as
Lactantius in his fourth book of Consultations doth say, goeth asward.
Aye, masters, aye, you may laugh, but I must weep; you may joy, but I
must sorrow; shedding salt tears from the watery fountains of my most
dainty fair eyes, along my comely and smooth cheeks, in as great plenty
as the water runneth from the buckingtubs, or red wine out of the hogs
heads: for trust me, gentlemen and my very good friends, and so forth,
the little god, nay the desparate god Cuprit, with one of his vengible
birdbolts, hath shot me unto the heel: so not only, but also, oh fine
phrase, I burn, I burn, and I burn a, in love, in love, and in love a.
Ah, Strumbo, what hast thou seen? not Dina with the Ass Tom? Yea, with
these eyes thou hast seen her, and therefore pull them out, for they
will work thy bale. Ah, Strumbo, hast thou heard? not the voice of the
Nightingale, but a voice sweeter than hers. Yea, with these ears hast
thou heard it, and therefore cut them off, for they have caused thy
sorrow. Nay, Strumbo, kill thyself, drown thyself, hang thyself, starve
thyself. Oh, but then I shall leave my sweet heart. Oh my heart! Now,
pate, for thy master! I will dite an eloquent love-pistle to her, and
then she hearing the grand verbosity of my scripture, will love me
presently.
[_Let him write a little and then read._]
My pen is naught; gentlemen, lend me a knife. I think the more haste
the worst speed.
[_Then write again, and after read._]
So it is, mistress Dorothy, and the sole essence of my soul, that the
little sparkles of affection kindled in me towards your sweet self hath
now increased to a great flame, and will ere it be long consume my poor
heart, except you, with the pleasant water of your secret fountain,
quench the furious heat of the same. Alas, I am a gentleman of good
fame and name, majestical, in parrel comely, in gate portly. Let not
therefore your gentle heart be so hard as to despise a proper tall,
young man of a handsome life, and by despising him, not only, but also
to kill him. Thus expecting time and tide, I bid you farewell. Your
servant, Signior Strumbo.
Oh wit! Oh pate! O memory! O hand! O ink! O paper! Well, now I will
send it away. Trompart, Trompart! what a villain is this? Why, sirra,
come when your master calls you. Trompart!
Trompart, entering, saith:.
TROMPART.
Anon, sir.
STRUMBO.
Thou knowest, my pretty boy, what a good mast I have been to thee ever
since I took thee into my service.
TROMPART.
Aye, sir.
STRUMBO.
And how I have cherished thee always, as if you had been the fruit of
my loins, flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone.
TROMPART.
Aye, sir.
STRUMBO.
Then show thyself herein a trusty servant, and carry this letter to
mistress Dorothy, and tell her—
[_Speaking in his ear. Exit Trompart._]
Nay, masters, you shall see a marriage by and by. But here she comes.
Now must I frame my amorous passions.
Enter Dorothy and Trompart.
DOROTHY.
Signior Strumbo, well met. I received your letters by your man here,
who told me a pitiful story of your anguish, and so understanding your
passions were so great, I came hither speedily.
STRUMBO.
Oh my sweet and pigsney, the fecundity of my ingenie is not so great,
that may declare unto you the sorrowful sobs and broken sleeps, that I
suffered for your sake; and therefore I desire you to receive me into
your familiarity.
For your love doth lie,
As near and as nigh
Unto my heart within,
As mine eye to my nose,
My leg unto my hose,
And my flesh unto my skin.
DOROTHY.
Truly, Master Strumbo, you speak too learnedly for me to understand the
drift of your mind, and therefore tell your tale in plain terms, and
leave off your dark riddles.
STRUMBO.
Alas, mistress Dorothy, this is my luck, that when I most would, I
cannot be understood; so that my great learning is an inconvenience
unto me. But to speak in plain terms, I love you, mistress Dorothy, if
you like to accept me into your familiarity.
DOROTHY.
If this be all, I am content.
STRUMBO.
Sayest thou so, sweet wench; let me lick thy toes. Farewell, mistress.
[_Turning to the people._]
If any of you be in love, provide ye a capcase full of new coined
words, and then shall you soon have the succado de labres, and
something else.
[_Exeunt._]
SCENE III. An apartment in the palace
Enter Locrine, Gwendoline, Camber, Albanact, Corineus, Assarachus,
Debon, Thrasimachus.
LOCRINE.
Uncle, and princes of brave Britany,
Since that our noble father is entombed,
As best beseemed so brave a prince as he,
If so you please, this day my love and I,
Within the temple of Concordia,
Will solemnize our royal marriage.
THRASIMACHUS.
Right noble Lord, your subjects every one,
Must needs obey your highness at command;
Especially in such a cause as this,
That much concerns your highness great content.
LOCRINE.
Then frolic, lordings, to fair Concord’s walls,
Where we will pass the day in knightly sports,
The night in dancing and in figured masks,
And offer to God Risus all our sports
[_Exeunt._]
ACT II
PROLOGUE
Enter Ate as before. After a little lightning and thundering, let there
come forth this show:—Perseus and Andromeda, hand in hand, and Cepheus
also, with swords and targets. Then let there come out of an other
door, Phineus, all black in armour, with Aethiopians after him, driving
in Perseus, and having taken away Andromeda, let them depart, Ate
remaining, saying:
ATE.
Regit omnia numen.
When Perseus married fair Andromeda,
The only daughter of king Cepheus,
He thought he had established well his Crown,
And that his kingdom should for aie endure.
But, lo, proud Phineus with a band of men,
Contrived of sun-burnt Aethiopians,
By force of arms the bride he took from him,
And turned their joy into a flood of tears.
So fares it with young Locrine and his love,
He thinks this marriage tendeth to his weal;
But this foul day, this foul accursed day,
Is the beginning of his miseries.
Behold where Humber and his Scithians
Approacheth nigh with all his warlike train.
I need not, I, the sequel shall declare,
What tragic chances fall out in this war.
SCENE I.
Enter Humber, Hubba, Estrild, Segar and their soldiers.
HUMBER.
At length the snail doth clime the highest tops,
Ascending up the stately castle walls;
At length the water with continual drops,
Doth penetrate the hardest marble stone;
At length we are arrived in Albion.
Nor could the barbarous Dacian sovereign,
Nor yet the ruler of brave Belgia,
Stay us from cutting over to this Isle,
Whereas I hear a troop of Phrigians
Under the conduct of Postumius’ son,
Have pitched up lordly pavilions,
And hope to prosper in this lovely Isle.
But I will frustrate all their foolish hope,
And teach them that the Scithian Emperour
Leads fortune tied in a chain of gold,
Constraining her to yield unto his will,
And grace him with their regal diadem,
Which I will have mauger their treble hosts,
And all the power their petty kings can make.
HUBBA.
If she that rules fair Rhamnis’ golden gate
Grant us the honour of the victory,
As hitherto she always favoured us,
Right noble father, we will rule the land,
Enthronized in seats of Topaz stones,
That Locrine and his brethren all may know,
None must be king but Humber and his son.
HUMBER.
Courage, my son, fortune shall favour us,
And yield to us the coronet of bay,
That decked none but noble conquerours.
But what saith Estrild to these regions?
How liketh she the temperature thereof?
Are they not pleasant in her gracious eyes?
ESTRILD.
The plains, my Lord, garnished with Flora’s wealth,
And overspread with party colored flowers,
Do yield sweet contentation to my mind.
The airy hills enclosed with shady groves,
The groves replenished with sweet chirping birds,
The birds resounding heavenly melody,
Are equal to the groves of Thessaly,
Where Phoebus with the learned Ladies nine,
Delight themselves with music harmony,
And from the moisture of the mountain tops,
The silent springs dance down with murmuring streams,
And water all the ground with crystal waves.
The gentle blasts of Eurus, modest wind,
Moving the pittering leaves of Silvan’s woods,
Do equal it with Temp’s paradise;
And thus consorted all to one effect,
Do make me think these are the happy Isles,
Most fortunate, if Humber may them win.
HUBBA.
Madam, where resolution leads the way,
And courage follows with imboldened pace,
Fortune can never use her tyranny;
For valiantness is like unto a rock
That standeth in the waves of Ocean,
Which though the billows beat on ever side,
And Boreas fell with his tempestuous storms
Bloweth upon it with a hideous clamour,
Yet it remaineth still unmoveable.
HUMBER.
Kingly resolved, thou glory of thy sire.
But, worthy Segar, what uncouth novelties
Bringst thou unto our royal majesty?
SEGAR.
My Lord, the youngest of all Brutus’ sons,
Stout Albanact, with millions of men,
Approacheth nigh, and meaneth, ere the morn,
To try your force by dint of fatal sword.
HUMBER.
Tut, let him come with millions of hosts;
He shall find entertainment good enough.
Yea, fit for those that are our enemies:
For we’ll receive them at the lance’s points,
And massacre their bodies with our blades:
Yea, though they were in number infinite,
More than the mighty Babylonian queen,
Semiramis the ruler of the West,
Brought gainst the Emperour of the Scithians;
Yet would we not start back one foot from them:
That they might know we are invincible.
HUBBA.
Now, by great Jove, the supreme king of heaven,
And the immortal gods that live therein,
When as the morning shows his cheerful face,
And Lucifer, mounted upon his steed,
Brings in the chariot of the golden sun,
I’ll meet young Albanact in the open field,
And crack my lance upon his burganet,
To try the valour of his boyish strength.
There will I show such ruthful spectacles
And cause so great effusion of blood,
That all his boys shall wonder at my strength:
As when the warlike queen of Amazon,
Penthisilea, armed with her lance,
Girt with a corslet of bright shining steel,
Couped up the faintheart Graecians in the camp.
HUMBER.
Spoke like a warlike knight, my noble son;
Nay, like a prince that seeks his father’s joy.
Therefore, tomorrow, ere fair Titan shine,
And bashful Eos, messenger of light,
Expels the liquid sleep from out men’s eyes,
Thou shalt conduct the right wing of the host;
The left wing shall be under Segar’s charge,
The rearward shall be under me myself.
And lovely Estrild, fair and gracious,
If fortune favour me in mine attempts,
And make the Queen of lovely Albion,
Come, let us in and muster up our train,
And furnish up our lusty soldiers,
That they may be a bulwark to our state,
And bring our wished joys to perfect end.