Mucedorus

SCENE III. The Forest

Enter Bremo, a wild man.

BREMO.
No passenger this morning? What, not one?
A chance that seldom doth befall.
What, not one? Then lie thou there,
And rest thyself till I have further need.

[Lays down his club.]

Now, Bremo, sit, thy leisure so affords,
An needless thing. [Sits down.] Who knows not Bremo’s strength,
That like a king commands within these woods?
The bear, the boar dare not abide my sight,
But haste away to save themselves by flight.
The crystal waters in the bubbling brooks,
When I come by, doth swiftly slide away,
And clap themselves in closets under banks,
Afraid to look bold Bremo in the face.
The aged oaks at Bremo’s breath do bow,
And all things else are still at my command.
Else what would I?
Rend them in pieces, pluck them from the earth,
And each way else I would revenge myself.
Why, who comes here with whom I dare not fight?
Who fights with me and doth not die the death? Not one!
What favour shows this sturdy stick to those,
That here within these woods are combatants with me?
Why, death, and nothing else but present death.
With restless rage I wander through these woods,
No creature here, but feareth Bremo’s force:
Man, woman, child, and beast, and bird,
And everything that doth approach my sight,
Are forc’d to fall if Bremo once do frown.
Come, cudgel, come, my partner in my spoils,
For here I see this day it will not be;
But when it falls that I encounter any,
One pat sufficeth for to work my will.
What, comes not one? Then let’s be gone;
A time will serve, when we shall better speed.

[Exit.]