Mucedorus

SCENE III. The Forest

Enter Amadine sola.

AMADINE.
God grant my long delay procures no harm,
Nor this my tarrying frustrate my pretence.
My Mucedorus surely stays for me,
And thinks me over-long. At length I come,
My present promise to perform.
Ah, what a thing is firm, unfeigned love!
What is it which true love dares not attempt?
My father, he may make, but I must match;
Segasto loves, but Amadine must like,
Where likes her best: compulsion is a thrall:
No, no, the hearty choice is all in all,
The shepherd’s virtue Amadine esteems.
But what, methinks my shepherd is not come;
I muse at that, the hour is sure at hand.
Well, here I’ll rest, till Mucedorus come.

[She sits down.]

Enter Bremo, looking about; hastily taketh hold of her.

BREMO.
A happy prey! now, Bremo, feed on flesh:
Dainties, Bremo, dainties, thy hungry paunch to fill:
Now glut thy greedy guts with lukewarm blood.
Come, fight with me, I long to see thee dead.

AMADINE.
How can she fight, that weapons cannot wield?

BREMO.
What, canst not fight? Then lie thou down and die.

AMADINE.
What, must I die?

BREMO.
What needs these words? I thirst to suck thy blood.

AMADINE.
Yet pity me, and let me live a while!

BREMO.
No pity, I will feed upon thy flesh,
And tear thy body piecemeal joint from joint.

AMADINE.
Ah, how I want my shepherd’s company!

BREMO.
I’ll crush thy bones betwixt two oaken trees.

AMADINE.
Haste, shepherd, haste, or else thou com’st too late.

BREMO.
I’ll suck the sweetness from thy marrow-bones.

AMADINE.
Ah spare, ah spare to shed my guiltless blood!

BREMO.
With this my bat will I beat out thy brains;
Down, down, I say, prostrate thyself upon the ground.

AMADINE.
Then, Mucedorus, farewell, my hoped joys, farewell!
Yea, farewell life, and welcome present death!

[She kneels.]

To thee, O God, I yield my dying ghost.

BREMO.
Now, Bremo, play thy part.
How now, what sudden change is this?
My limbs do tremble, and my sinews shake,
My weak’ned arms have lost their former force.
Ah, Bremo, Bremo, what a foil hast thou,
That yet at no time ever wast afraid
To dare the greatest gods to fight with thee,

[He strikes.]

And now wants strength for one down-driving blow?
Ah, how my courage fails, when I should strike!
Some new-come spirit abiding in my breast,
Saith, Spare her, Bremo, spare her, do not kill.
Shall I spare her, which never spared any?
To it, Bremo, to it; essay again.
I cannot wield my weapon in my hand,
Methinks I should not strike so fair a one,
I think her beauty hath bewitch’d my force,
Or else within me alter’d nature’s course.
Ay, woman, wilt thou live i’ th’ woods with me?

AMADINE.
Fain would I live, yet loth to live in woods.

BREMO.
Thou shalt not choose, it shall be as I say,
And therefore, follow me!

[Exeunt.]