Locrine

SCENE I.

Enter Humber, Hubba, Estrild, Segar and their soldiers.

HUMBER.
At length the snail doth clime the highest tops,
Ascending up the stately castle walls;
At length the water with continual drops,
Doth penetrate the hardest marble stone;
At length we are arrived in Albion.
Nor could the barbarous Dacian sovereign,
Nor yet the ruler of brave Belgia,
Stay us from cutting over to this Isle,
Whereas I hear a troop of Phrigians
Under the conduct of Postumius’ son,
Have pitched up lordly pavilions,
And hope to prosper in this lovely Isle.
But I will frustrate all their foolish hope,
And teach them that the Scithian Emperour
Leads fortune tied in a chain of gold,
Constraining her to yield unto his will,
And grace him with their regal diadem,
Which I will have mauger their treble hosts,
And all the power their petty kings can make.

HUBBA.
If she that rules fair Rhamnis’ golden gate
Grant us the honour of the victory,
As hitherto she always favoured us,
Right noble father, we will rule the land,
Enthronized in seats of Topaz stones,
That Locrine and his brethren all may know,
None must be king but Humber and his son.

HUMBER.
Courage, my son, fortune shall favour us,
And yield to us the coronet of bay,
That decked none but noble conquerours.
But what saith Estrild to these regions?
How liketh she the temperature thereof?
Are they not pleasant in her gracious eyes?

ESTRILD.
The plains, my Lord, garnished with Flora’s wealth,
And overspread with party colored flowers,
Do yield sweet contentation to my mind.
The airy hills enclosed with shady groves,
The groves replenished with sweet chirping birds,
The birds resounding heavenly melody,
Are equal to the groves of Thessaly,
Where Phoebus with the learned Ladies nine,
Delight themselves with music harmony,
And from the moisture of the mountain tops,
The silent springs dance down with murmuring streams,
And water all the ground with crystal waves.
The gentle blasts of Eurus, modest wind,
Moving the pittering leaves of Silvan’s woods,
Do equal it with Temp’s paradise;
And thus consorted all to one effect,
Do make me think these are the happy Isles,
Most fortunate, if Humber may them win.

HUBBA.
Madam, where resolution leads the way,
And courage follows with imboldened pace,
Fortune can never use her tyranny;
For valiantness is like unto a rock
That standeth in the waves of Ocean,
Which though the billows beat on ever side,
And Boreas fell with his tempestuous storms
Bloweth upon it with a hideous clamour,
Yet it remaineth still unmoveable.

HUMBER.
Kingly resolved, thou glory of thy sire.
But, worthy Segar, what uncouth novelties
Bringst thou unto our royal majesty?

SEGAR.
My Lord, the youngest of all Brutus’ sons,
Stout Albanact, with millions of men,
Approacheth nigh, and meaneth, ere the morn,
To try your force by dint of fatal sword.

HUMBER.
Tut, let him come with millions of hosts;
He shall find entertainment good enough.
Yea, fit for those that are our enemies:
For we’ll receive them at the lance’s points,
And massacre their bodies with our blades:
Yea, though they were in number infinite,
More than the mighty Babylonian queen,
Semiramis the ruler of the West,
Brought gainst the Emperour of the Scithians;
Yet would we not start back one foot from them:
That they might know we are invincible.

HUBBA.
Now, by great Jove, the supreme king of heaven,
And the immortal gods that live therein,
When as the morning shows his cheerful face,
And Lucifer, mounted upon his steed,
Brings in the chariot of the golden sun,
I’ll meet young Albanact in the open field,
And crack my lance upon his burganet,
To try the valour of his boyish strength.
There will I show such ruthful spectacles
And cause so great effusion of blood,
That all his boys shall wonder at my strength:
As when the warlike queen of Amazon,
Penthisilea, armed with her lance,
Girt with a corslet of bright shining steel,
Couped up the faintheart Graecians in the camp.

HUMBER.
Spoke like a warlike knight, my noble son;
Nay, like a prince that seeks his father’s joy.
Therefore, tomorrow, ere fair Titan shine,
And bashful Eos, messenger of light,
Expels the liquid sleep from out men’s eyes,
Thou shalt conduct the right wing of the host;
The left wing shall be under Segar’s charge,
The rearward shall be under me myself.
And lovely Estrild, fair and gracious,
If fortune favour me in mine attempts,
And make the Queen of lovely Albion,
Come, let us in and muster up our train,
And furnish up our lusty soldiers,
That they may be a bulwark to our state,
And bring our wished joys to perfect end.