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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.
Cor. Your highness knows how many victories,
How many trophies I erected have
Triumphantly in every place we came.
The Grecian monarch, warlike Pandrasus,
And all the crew of the Molossians;
Goffarius, the arm-strong king of Gauls,
Have felt the force of our victorious arms,
And to their cost beheld our chivalry.
Where'er Aurora, handmaid of the sun,
Where'er the sun, bright guardian of the day,
Where'er the joyful day with cheerful light,
Where'er the light illuminates the world,
The Trojans' glory flies with golden wings,
Wings that do soar beyond fell envy'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.
Bru. Nay, Corineus, you mistake my mind,
In construing wrong the cause of my complaints,
I fear'd to yield myself to fatal death!
God knows it was the least of all my thought:
A greater care torments my very bones,
And makes me tremble at the thought of it;
And in you, lordings, doth the substance lie.
Thra. Most noble lord, if aught 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,
Scareth the ghosts with high-resounding noise.
We'll either rent the bowels of the earth,
Searching the entrails of the brutish earth,
Or, with Ixion's over-daring son,
Be bound in chains of ever-during steel.
Bru. Then hearken 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,
Cover'd my manly cheeks with youthful down,
The unhappy slaughter of my luckless sire
Drove me and old Assaracus, mine eam,†
As exiles from the bounds of Italy;
So that perforce we were constrain❜d to fly
I. e. only the way of death.
To Græcia's monarch, noble Pandrasus.
There I alone did undertake your cause,
There I restored your antique liberty,
Though Græcia frown'd, and all Molossia storm'd;
Though brave Antigonus, with martial band,
In pitched field encounter'd me and mine;
Though Pandrasus and his contributaries,
With all the rout 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 we did propound.
From Græcia through the boisterous Hellespont,
We came unto the fields of Lestrigon,
Whereas our brother Corineus was,
Since when we passed the Cilician gulf,
And so transfreting the Illyrian sea,
Arrived on the coasts of Aquitain;
Where, with an army of his barbarous Gauls,
Goffarius and his brother Gathelus
Encountering with our host, sustain'd the foil;
And for your sakes my Turinus there I lost,
Turinus, that slew six hundred men-at-arms,
All in an hour, with his sharp battle-axe.
From thence upon the stronds of Albion
To Corus' haven happily we came,
And quell'd 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 employ'd.
Cor. When first I follow'd thee and 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 divers broils,
I show'd 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, his life and dearest blood
Will Corineus spend for Brutus' good.
Deb. And what my friend, brave prince, hath vow'd to you,
The same will Debon do unto his end.
Bru. Then, loyal peers, since you are all agreed,
And resolute to follow Brutus' 'hests,*
Favour my sons, favour these orphans, lords,
And shield them from the dangers of their foes.
Locrine, the column of my family,
And only pillar of my weaken'd 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 honour'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.
Loc. If Locrine do not follow your advice,
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 glorious ancestors,
Let me be flung into the ocean,
Or swallow'd in the bowels of the earth:
Or let the ruddy lightning of great Jove
Descend upon this my devoted head.
Bru. 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;
[Taking GUENDOLEN by the hand.
A gift more rich than are the wealthy mines
Found in the bowels of America.
Thou shalt be spoused to fair Guendolen :
Love her, and take her, for she is thine own,
If so thy uncle and herself do please.
Cor. And herein how your highness honours me,
It cannot now be in my speech express'd;
For careful parents glory not so much
At their own honour and promotion,
As for to see the issue of their blood
Seated in honour and prosperity.
Guen. 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.
Bru. Then now, my son, thy part is on the stage,
[Turning to LOCRINE, who kneels.
For thou must bear the person of a king.
Having thy lot among.
Puts the crown on his head.
+ I.e. lesson.
§ The bait, in hawking.
Locrine, stand up, and wear the regal crown,
And think upon the state of majesty,
That thou with honour well mayst wear the crown :
And, if thou tend'rest these my latest words,
As thou requir'st my soul to be at rest,
As thou desir'st thine own security,
Cherish and love thy new-betrothed wife.
Loc. No longer let me well enjoy the crown,
Than I do honour Guendolen.
Cam. My lord.
Bru. The glory of mine age,
And darling of thy mother Innogen,
Take thou the South for thy dominion.
From thee there shall proceed a royal race,
That shall maintain the honour of this land,
And sway the regal sceptre with their bands.
And Albanact, thy father's only joy,
Youngest in years, but not the young'st 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 concordánce among yourselves.
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 quicken'd pace,
To dispossess me of my earthly shape.
Mine eyes wax dim, o'ercast 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 soul in haste flies to the Elysian fields;
My glass is run, and all my miseries
Do end with life; death closeth up mine eyes.
Loc. Accursed stars, damn'd and accursed stars,
T'abbreviate my noble father's life!
Hard-hearted gods, and too envíous 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 Demogorgon's knife
The martial Brutus is bereft of life:
No sad complaints may move just Eacus.
Cor. No dreadful threats can feart just Rhadamanth. Wert thou as strong as mighty Hercules,
That tamed the hugy monsters of the world,
Play'dst 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,
Constrain'd 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, suffer'd untimely death;
And old Tithonus, husband to the morn,
And eke grim Minos, whom just Jupiter
Deign'd to admit unto his sacrifice.
The thundering trumpets of blood-thirsty Mars,
The fearful rage of fell Tisiphone,
The boisterous waves of humid ocean,
Are instruments and tools of dismal death.
Then, noble cousin, cease to mourn his chance,
Whose age and years were signs that he should die.
It resteth now that we inter his bones,
That was a terror to his enemies.
Take up the corse, and princes, holdt him dead,
Who while he lived upheld the Trojan state.
Sound drums and trumpets; march to Troynovant,
There to provide our chieftain's funeral.
Enter STRUMBO above, in a gown, with ink and paper in his hand. Strum. Either the four elements, the seven planets, and all the particular stars of the pole antastic, are adversative against me, or else I was begotten and born in the wane of the moon, when everything, as Lactantius in his fourth book of Constultations doth_say, goeth arseward. Ay, masters,§ ay, you may laugh, but I must weep; you may joy, but I must sorrow; shedding salt tears from the watery fountains of my most daintyfair eyes along my comely and smooth cheeks, in as great plenty as the water runneth from the bucking-tubs, or red wine out of the hogsheads. For trust me, gentlemen and my very good friends, and so forth, the little god, nay the desperate god,|| with one of his vengible bird-bolts, hath shot me into 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.tt Ah! Strumbo, what hast thou heard?