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The Tragedy of Locrine (Third Folio, 1664)
1545Scena Tertia.
1546Enter Humber alone, his hair hanging over his shoulders,
1547his arms all bloudie, and a dart in one hand.
1549Where every thing consumed is to nought?
1551Where not a root is left for Humber's meat?
1554Hath triple Cerberus with contagious foam,
1556Hath dreadfull Fames with her charming rods
1557Brought barrennesse on every fruitfull tree?
1558What not a root, no fruit, no beast, no bird,
1560What would you more, you fiends of Erebus?
1561My very intrails burn for want of drink,
1562My bowels cry, Humber give us some meat,
1563But wretched Humber can give you no meat,
1565This fruitless soil, this ground brings forth no meat.
1566The gods, hard hearted gods, yield me no meat.
1567Then how can Humber give you any meat?
1568Enter Strumbo with a pitch-fork, and a
1569Scotch-cap.
1573all with a good couragio, couragio, and my wife and I
1574are in great love and charity now, I thank my manhood
1576certain day at night I came home, to say the very truth,
1577with my stomack full of wine, and ran up into the chamber,
1583me with a big face, as though she would have eaten me
1584at a bit; thundering out these words unto me. Thou
1587began to play knaves trumps. Now although I trembled
1590dle, I carried her valiantly to the bed, and flinging her
1595her Portion a yard of land, and by that I am now be-
1599He sits down and pulls out his victuals.
1603Oh no: the land where hungry Fames dwelt,
1605No, even the climate of the torrid zone
1606Brings forth more fruit then this accursed grove.
1607Ne'er came sweet Ceres, ne'er came Venus here;
1608Triptolemus the god of husbandmen,
1610The hunger-bitten dogs of Acheron,
1611Chac't from the nine-fold Puriflegiton,
1613The iron-hearted Furies arm'd with snakes,
1614Scatered huge Hydra's over all the plains,
1615Which have consum'd the grass, the herbs, the trees,
1617Strumbo hearing his voice starts up, and puts his meat
1618in his pocket, seeking to hide himself.
1620That guid'st the life of every mortal wight,
1628I am Strumbo.
1631And rend thy bowels with my bloudie hands.
1633Strum. By the faith of my body, good fellow, I had
1636rible. I think I have a quarry of stones in my pocket.
1637He makes as though he would give him some, and
1638 as he putteth out his hand, enter the Ghost of Alba-
1639 nact, and strikes him on the hand, and so Strumbo
1640 runs out, Humber following him.Exeunt.
1641Alba. Ghost. Loe here the gift of fell ambition,
1642Of usurpation and of treachery.
1643Loe here the harms that wait upon all those
1644That do intrude themselves in others lands,
1645Which are not under their dominion.Exit.