书城公版Locrine-Mucedorus
20033400000048

第48章 THE LAMENTABLE TRAGEDY OF LOCRINE(48)

Thy bragging banners crossed with argent streams, The ornaments of thy pavilions, Shall all be capituated with this hand, And thou thy self, at Albanactus' tomb, Shalt offered be in satisfaction Of all the wrongs thou didst him when he lived.--But canst thou tell me, brave Thrasimachus, How far we are distant from Humber's camp?

THRASIMACHUS.

My Lord, within yon foul accursed grove, That bears the tokens of our overthrow, This Humber hath intrenched his damned camp.

March on, my Lord, because I long to see The treacherous Scithians squeltring in their gore.

LOCRINE.

Sweet fortune, favour Locrine with a smile, That I may venge my noble brother's death;And in the midst of stately Troinouant, I'll build a temple to thy deity Of perfect marble and of Iacinthe stones, That it shall pass the high Pyramids, Which with their top surmount the firmament.

CAMBER.

The armstrong offspring of the doubled night, Stout Hercules, Alemena's mighty son, That tamed the monsters of the threefold world, And rid the oppressed from the tyrant's yokes, Did never show such valiantness in fight, As I will now for noble Albanact.

CORINEIUS.