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The Tragedy of Locrine

the eldest Son of King Brutus
  

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Enter Brutus carried in a chair, Locrine, Camber, Albanact, Corineius, Guendelin, Assaracus, Debon, Thrasimachus.
Brutus.
Most loyal Lords, and faithfull followers,
That have with me, unworthy General,
Passed the greedy gulf of th'Ocean,
Leaving the confines of fair Italie,
Behold, your Brutus draweth nigh his end,
And I must leave you, though against my will;
My sinews shrunk, my numbred senses fail,
A chilling cold possesseth all my bones,
Black ugly death with visage pale and wan,
Presents himself before my dazeled eyes,
And with his dart prepared is to strike:
These armes, my Lords, these never daunted armes,
That oft have quell'd the courage of my foes,
And eke dismay'd my neighbour's arrogance,
Now yield to death, o'relaid with crooked age,
Devoid of strength and of their proper force;
Even as the lusty Cedar worn with yeares,
That far abroad her dainty odour throws,
'Mongst all the daughters of proud Lebanon,
This heart, my Lords, this ne're appalled heart,
That was a terror to the bordring lands,
A dolefull scourge unto my neighbour Kings,
Now by the weapons of unpartial death,
Is clove asunder and bereft of life;
As when the sacred oak with thunderbolts,
Sent from the fierie circuit of the heavens,
Sliding along the aires celestial vaults,
Is rent and cloven to the very roots.
In vain therefore I struggle with this foe,
Then welcome death, since God will have it so.

Assar.
Alas my Lord, we sorrow at your case,
And grieve to see your person vexed thus;
But whatsoe're the fates determin'd have,
It lieth not in us to disanull,
And he that would annihilate his mind,
Soaring with Icarus too near the Sun,
May catch a fall with young Bellerophon:
For when the fatal sisters have decreed
To separate us from this earthly mould,
No mortal force can countermand their minds:
Then, worthy Lord, since there's no way but one,
Cease your laments, and leave your grievous moan.

Corin.
Your Highness knows how many victories,
How many Trophees I erected have
Triumphantly in every place we came;
The Grecian Monarch, warlike Pandrassus,
And all the crew of the Molossians:
Goffarius the arme-strong King of Gaules,
Have felt the force of our victorious armes,
And to their cost beheld our Chivalrie,
Where ere Ancora handmaid of the Sun,
Where ere the Sun-bright gardiant of the day,

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Where e're the joyfull day with cheerfull light,
Where e're the light illuminates the world,
The Trojans glory flies with golden wings,
Wings that do soar beyond fell envious flight,
The fame of Brutus and his followers
Pierceth the skies, and with the skies the throne
Of mighty Jove, Commander of the world,
Then, worthy Brutus, leave these sad laments,
Comfort your self with this your great renown,
And fear not Death, though he seem terrible.

Brutus.
Nay, Corinus, you mistake my mind,
In construing wrong the cause of my complaints,
I fear'd not t' yield my self to fatall death,
God knowes it was the least of all my thoughts,
A greater care torments my very bones,
And makes me tremble at the thought of it,
And in your Lordings doth the substance lie.

Thrasi.
Most noble Lord, if ought your loyal Peers
Accomplish may, to ease your lingring grief,
I in the name of all protest to you,
That we will boldly enterprise the same,
Were it to enter to black Tartarus,
Where triple Cerberus with his venomous throat,
Scareth the Ghosts with high resounding noyse,
We'll either rent the bowels of the earth,
Searching the entrails of the bruitish earth,
Or with his Ixions overdaring soon,
Be bound in Chains of everduring Steele.

Bru.
Then hearken to your Soveraign's latest words,
In which I will unto you all unfold,
Our royall mind and resolute intent.
When golden Hebe, Daughter to great Jove,
Cover'd my manly Cheeks with youthfull Down,
Th'unhappy slaughter of my lucklesse Sire,
Drove me and old Assarachus mine Eame,
As exiles from the bounds of Italy,
So that perforce we were constrain'd to flye
To Grecians Monarch, noble Pandrassus,
There I alone did undertake your cause,
There I restor'd your antique liberty,
Though Grecia frown'd, and all Molossia storm'd,
Though brave Antigonus, with martiall band,
In pitched field encountred me and mine,
Though Pandrassus and his contributaries,
With all the rout of their confederates,
Sought to deface our glorious memory,
And wipe the name of Trojans from the earth:
Him did I captivate with this mine Arme,
And by compulsion forc't him to agree
To certain Articles, which there we did propound.
From Grecia through the boisterous Hellespont,
We came into the Fields of Lestrigon,
Whereat our Brother Corineius was;
Which when we passed the Cicilian gulf,
And so transfretting the Illician sea,
Arrived on the coasts of Aquitain;
Where with an Army of his barbarous Gaules
Goffarius and his Brother Gathelus
Encountring with our hoast, sustain'd the foile,
And for your sakes my Turnus there I lost:
Turnus that slew six hundred men at Armes
All in an hour, with his sharp Battle-Axe.
From thence upon the stronds of Albion
To Corus Haven happily we came,
And quell'd the Giants, come of Albions race,
With Gogmagog, Son to Samotheus,
The cursed Captain of that damned crew,
And in that Isle at length I placed you.
Now let me see if my laborious toyles,
If all my care, if all my grievous wounds,
If all my diligence were well employ'd.

Corin.
When first I followed thee and thine (brave King)
I hazarded my life and dearest blood,
To purchase favour at your Princely hands,
And for the same in dangerous attempts
In sundry conflicts, and in divers broyles,
I shew'd the courage of my manly minde:
For this I combated with Gathelus,
The Brother to Goffarius of Gaule:
For this I fought with furious Gogmagog,
A savage Captain of a savage crew:
And for these deeds brave Cornwall I receiv'd,
A gratefull gift given by a gracious King;
And for this gift, this life and dearest blood,
Will Corineius spend for Brutus good.

Deb.
And what my friend, brave Prince, hath vow'd to you,
The same will Debon doe unto his end.

Bru.
Then, loyal Peers, since you are all agreed,
And resolute to follow Brutus hoasts,
Favour my Sons, favour those Orphans, Lords,
And shield them from the dangers of their foes.
Locrine, the Columne of my Family,
And onely Pillar of my weakned age:
Locrine, draw near, draw near unto thy Sire,
And take thy latest blessings at his hands;
And for thou art the eldest of my Sons,
Be thou a Captain to thy Brethren,
And imitate thy aged Fathers steps,
Which will conduct thee to true honours gate:
For if thou follow sacred virtues lore,
Thou shalt be crowned with a Lawrel branch,
And wear a wreathe of sempiternall fame,
Sorted amongst the glorious happy ones.

Locrin.
If Locrine do not follow your advice,
And beare himself in all things like a Prince
That seeks to amplifie the great renown,
Left unto him for an inheritance
By those that were his Ancestours,
Let me be flung into the Ocean,
And swallowed in the bowels of the earth.
Or let the ruddy lightning of great Jove,
Descend upon this my devolted head.

Brutus taking Guendoline by the hand.
Bru.
But for I see you all to be in doubt,
Who shall be matched with our Royal Son,
Locrine, receive this present at my hand:
A gift more rich then are the wealthy Mines
Found in the Bowels of America.
Thou shalt be spoused to fair Guendoline:
Love her, and take her, for she is thine own,
If so thy Unckle and her self do please.

Corin.
And herein how your Highnesse honours me,
It cannot now be in my speech exprest:
For carefull Parents glory not so much
At their honour and promotion,
As for to see the issue of their blood
Seated in honour and prosperity.

Guend.
And far be it from my pure Maiden thoughts,
To contradict her aged Fathers 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,

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Like crafty Dames that most of all deny
That, which they most desire to possesse.
Brutus turning to Locrine.
Locrine kneeling.
Then now my son thy part is on the stage,
For thou must bear the person of a King.
Puts the Crown on his head.
Locrine stand up, and wear the regal Crown,
And think upon the state of Majesty,
That thou with honour well maist wear the Crown,
And if thou tendrest these my latest words,
As thou requir'st my soul to be at rest,
As thou desirest thine own security,
Cherish and love thy new betrothed wife.

Locrine.
No longer let me well enjoy the Crown,
Then I do peerlesse Guendoline.

Brut.
Camber.

Cam.
My Lord.

Brut.
The glory of mine age,
And darling of thy mother Junoger,
Take thou the South for thy dominion,
From thee there shall proceed a royal race,
That shall maintain the honor of this land,
That sway the regal scepter with their hands.
Turning to Alabanact.
And Albanact thy fathers onely joy,
Youngest in years, but not the young'st in mind,
A perfect pattern of all chivalrie,
Take thou the North for thy dominion,
A country full of hills and ragged rocks,
Replenished with fierce untamed beasts,
As correspondent to thy martial thoughts.
Live long my sons with endlesse happinesse,
And bear firm concordance among your selves,
Obey the counsels of these fathers grave,
That you may better bear out violence,
But suddenly through weaknesse of my age,
And the defect of youthfull puissance,
My Maladie increaseth more and more,
And cruel death hasteneth his quickned pace,
To dispossesse me of my earthly shape,
Mine eyes wax dim, o're-cast with clouds of age.
The pangs of death compasse my crazed bones,
Thus to you all my blessings I bequeath,
And with my blessings, this my fleeting soul.
My glasse is run, and all my miseries
Do end with life: death closeth up mine eyes,
My soul in hast flies to the Elisian fields.

He dieth.
Loc.
Accursed starrs, damn'd and accursed starrs,
To abreviate my noble father's life,
Hard-hearted gods, and too envious fates,
Thus to cut off my father's fatal thred,
Brutus that was a glory to us all,
Brutus that was a terror to his foes,
Alasse too soon by Demagorgon's knife,
The martial Brutus is bereft of life.
No sad complaints may move just Lacus.

Corin.
No dreadfull threats can fear judge Rhodomanth,
Wert thou as strong as mighty Hercules,
That tam'd the hugie monsters of the world,
Plaid'st thou as sweet, on the sweet sounding Lute,
As did the spouse of fair Euridice,
That did enchant the waters with his noise,
And made the stones, birds, beasts, to lead a dance,
Constrained the hilly trees to follow him,
Thou could'st not move the judge of Crebus,
Nor move compassion in grim Pluto's heart,
For fatal Mors expecteth all the world,
And every man must tread the way of death,
Brave Tantalus, the valiant Pelops sire,
Guest to the gods, suffred untimely death,
And old Fleithonus husband to the morn,
And eke grim Minos whom just Jupiter
Deign'd to admit unto his sacrifice,
The thundring trumpets of bloud-thirsty Mars.
The fearfull rage of fell Tisiphoen.
The boistrous waves of humid Ocean,
Are instruments and tools of dismal death.
Then noble cousin cease to mourn his chance,
Whose age and years were signes that he should die.
It resteth now that we interre his bones,
That was a terror to his enemies.
Take up his coarse, and Princes hold him dead,
Who while he liv'd, upheld the Troyan state.
Sound drums and trumpets, march to Trinovant,
There to provide our chieftains funeral.

Exeunt.