GWENDOLINE

And far be it from my maidens 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 dams that most of all deny That, which they most desire to possess. Then now my soon thy partly is on the stage, For thou must bear the person of a King. Locrine stand up, and wear the regal Crown, And think upon the state of Majesty, That thou with honour well mayest wear the crown, And if thou tenderest these my latest words, As thou requirst my soul to be at rest, As thou desirest thine own security, Cherish and love thy new betrothed wife. Not Haec ba the queen of Ilium When she beheld the town of Pergamus, Her palace burned, with all devouring flames, Her fifty sons and daughters fresh of hue, Murdered by wicked Pyrrhus bloody sword, Shed such sad tears as I for Albanact. You gentle winds that with your modest blasts, Pass through the circuit of the heavenly vault, Enter the clouds unto the throne of Jove, And bear my prayers to his all hearing ears, For Locrine hath forsaken Guendoline, And learn to love proud Humbers concubine. You happy sprites that in the concave sky With pleasant joy, enjoy your sweetest love, Shed forth those tears with me, which then you shed When ̄ first you wood your ladies to your wills, Those tears are fittest for my woeful case, Since Locrine shuns my nothing pleasant face. Blush heavens, blush sun, and hide thy shining beams, Shadow thy radia ̄ to locks in gloomy clouds, Deny thy cheerful light unto the world, Where nothing raigns but falsehood and deceit. What said I, falsehood? I that filthy crime, For Locrine hath forsaken Guendoline. Behold the heavens do wail for Guendoline. The shining sun does blush for Guendoline. The liquid air does weep for Guendoline. The very ground does groan for Guendoline. I they are milder then the Britain king, For he rejects luckless Guendoline. Oh no, his death will more augment my woes, He was my husband brave Thrasimachus, More deer to me then the apple of mine eye, Nor can I find in heart to work his scathe. Then henceforth farewell womanish come plaints, All childish pity henceforth then farewell: But cursed Locrine look unto thy self, For Nemesis the mistress of revenge, Sits armed at all points on our dismal blades, And cursed Estrild that inflamed his heart, Shall if I live, die a reproachful death. I Locrine, traitorous Locrine we are come, With full pretence to seek thine overthrow, What have I done that thou shouldst scorn me thus? What have I said that thou shouldst me reject? Have I be disobedient to thy words? Have I bewrayed thy Arcane secrecy? Have I dishonoured thy marriage bed With filthy crimes, or with lascivious lustest? Nay it is thou that hast dishonoured it, Thy filthy mind overcome with filthy lustest, Yields unto affections filthy darts. Unkind, thou wrongest thy first and truest fear, Unkind, thou wrongest thy best and dearest friend Unkind, thou scornest all skilful Brutus laws, Forgetting father, uncle, and thy self. Search soldiers search, find Locrin and his love, Find the proud strumpet Humbers concubine, That I may change those her so pleasing looks, To pale and ignominious aspect. Find me the issue of their cursed love, Find me young Sabren, Locrines only joy, That I may glut my mind with lukewarm blood, Swiftly distilling from the bastards breast, My father's ghost still haunts me for revenge, Crying, revenge my ouerhastened death, My brother's exile, and mine own divorce, Banish remorse clean from my brazen heart, All mercy from mine adamin iue breasts. And hath proud Estrild then prevented me Hath she escaped Guend lin S wrath, Violently by cutting off her life? Would God she had the monstrous Hidr S lives, That every hour she might have died a death Worse then the swing of old Ixion's wheel, And every hour revive to die again, As Titius bound to house es Caucas , Does feed the substance of his own mishap, And every day for want of food does die, And every night does live again to die. But stay, me thinks I hear some fainting voice, Mournfully weeping for their luckless death. Yes damsel yes, Sabren shall surely die, Though all the world should seek to save her life, And not a common death shall Sabren die, But after strange and grievous punishments Shortly inflicted upon thy bastards head, Thou shalt be cast into the cursed streams, And feed the fish with thy tender flesh. One mischief follows another's ne ke, Who would have thought so young a maid as she With such a courage would have soug to her death. And for because his River was the plac Where little S bre resolutely died, Sabren for ever shall this same be called. And as for Locrine our deceased spouse, Because he was that Son of mighty Brutus To whom we owe our country, lium S and goods, He shall be buried in a stately ombe, Close by his aged father Br tus bones, With such great pomp and great solemnity As well beseems so brave a prince as e Let Estrild lie without the sh llow Without the honour endue unto the dead Because she was the author of this war. Retire brave followers unto Troyno Where we will celebrate these exequies And place young Locri in his father's tomb. But may this be, and is it possible, Lives Sabren yet to expiate my wrath? Fortune I to anke thee for this courtesy, And let me never see one prosperous hour, If Sabren die not a reproachful death.