The Tragedy of Locrine (Third Folio, 1664)
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The Tragedy of Locrine.
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¶Which, in memorial of our victory,
¶Shall be agnominated by our name,
1060And talked of by our posterity:
¶For sure I hope before the golden Sun
¶To see the waters turned into bloud,
¶And change his blewish hue to ruefull red,
¶Which shall be made upon the virent plains.
¶
Enter the Ghost of Albanact.
¶See how the Traitor doth presage his harm,
¶See how he glories at his own decay,
1070See how he triumphs at his proper loss.
¶O fortune vild, unstable, fickle, frail!
¶Some headless lie, some breathless on the ground,
¶Shall e're the night be coloured all with bloud;
1085Shall ere the night be figured all with bloud;
¶Shall ere the night converted be to bloud,
¶Hub. Let come what will, I mean to bear it out,
¶And either live with glorious victorie,
¶Or die with fame renown'd for chivalrie:
1095He is not worthy of the honey-comb,
¶Which thousand dangers do accompany;
¶For nothing can dismay our Regal mind;
1100Which aims at nothing but a golden Crown,
¶Were they inchanted in grim Pluto's Court,
¶I would either quell the triple Cerberus
1105And all the armie of his hatefull hags,
¶And all thy words savour of Chivalrie,
¶But, warlike Segar, what strange accidents
1110Makes you to leave the warding of the Camp?
¶Segar. To armes, my Lord, to honourable armes;
¶Take helm and targe in hand, the Britains come
¶With greater multitude then erst the Greeks
¶Brought to the ports of Phrygian Tenedos.
¶What counsel gives he in extremities?
¶Seg. Why this, my Lord, experience teacheth us,
¶And this, my Lord, our honour teacheth us,
1120That we be bold in every enterprise;
¶Then since there is no way but fight or die,
¶Be resolute, my Lord, for victory.
1125And comfort bring to our perplexed state:
¶Come let us in and fortifie our camp,
Exeunt.
¶
Scena Quarta.
¶
Enter Strumbo, Trumpart, Oliver, and his son Wil-
1130liam following them
.
¶of us, as any in all the North.
¶Oliv. No by my dorth neighbour Strumbo, Ich zee
1135dat you are a man of small zideration, dat will zeek to
¶injure your old vreends, one of your vamiliar guests, and
¶derefore zeeing your pinion is to deal withouten reazon,
1140Daughter or no?
¶of me?
1145was in the barn to tumble her upon the hay, and to fish
¶her Belly.
¶have me marry her therefore? No, I scorn her, and you,
¶and you. I, I scorn you all.
1150Oliv. You will not have her then?
¶Strum. No, as I am a true Gentleman.
¶hence.
¶
Enter Margerie, and snatch the staff out of her bro-
1155thers hand as he is fighting
.
¶ drest them.
¶you that will have none of me?
¶you can nick-name me; I think you were brought up in
¶ready at your tongues end, as if you were never well
¶warned when you were young.
¶Mar. Why then goodman cods-head, if you will have
¶none of me, farewell.
raggle,
¶fare you well.
¶must have more words, you will have none of me?
¶
They both fight.
1175Strum. Oh my head, my head, leave, leave, leave,
¶I will, I will, I will.
¶Mar. Upon that condition I let thee alone.
G2[r]
Strum. I,
