William Shakespeare - The Complete Apocryphal Works of William Shakespeare - All 17 Rare Plays in One Edition

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Apocrypha is a group of plays and poems that have sometimes been attributed to William Shakespeare, but whose attribution is questionable for various reasons. The issue is separate from the debate on Shakespearean authorship, which addresses the authorship of the works traditionally attributed to Shakespeare. Table of Contents: Arden Of Faversham A Yorkshire Tragedy The Lamentable Tragedy Of Locrine Mucedorus The King's Son Of Valentia, And Amadine, The King's Daughter Of Arragon. The London Prodigal The Puritaine Widdow The Second Maiden's Tragedy Sir John Oldcastle Lord Cromwell King Edward The Third Edmund Ironside Sir Thomas More Faire Em A Fairy Tale In Two Acts The Merry Devill Of Edmonton Thomas Of Woodstock William Shakespeare (1564 – 1616) was an English poet and playwright, widely regarded as the greatest writer in the English language and the world's pre-eminent dramatist. He is often called England's national poet and the «Bard of Avon». His extant works, including some collaborations, consist of about 38 plays, 154 sonnets, two long narrative poems, and a few other verses, the authorship of some of which is uncertain.

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STRUMBO. Alas, mistress Dorothy, this is my luck, that when I most would, I cannot be understood; so that my great learning is an inconvenience unto me. But to speak in plain terms, I love you, mistress Dorothy, if you like to accept me into your familiarity.

DOROTHY.

If this be all, I am content.

STRUMBO. Sayest thou so, sweet wench; let me lick thy toes. Farewell, mistress.

[Turning to the people.]

If any of you be in love, provide ye a capcase full of new coined words, and then shall you soon have the succado de labres, and something else.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE 3. An apartment in the palace.

[Enter Locrine, Gwendoline, Camber, Albanact, Corineius,

Assarachus, Debon, Thrasimachus.]

LOCRINE.

Uncle, and princes of brave Britany,

Since that our noble father is entombed,

As best beseemed so brave a prince as he,

If so you please, this day my love and I,

Within the temple of Concordia,

Will solemnize our royal marriage.

THRASIMACHUS.

Right noble Lord, your subjects every one,

Must needs obey your highness at command;

Especially in such a cause as this,

That much concerns your highness great content.

LOCRINE.

Then frolic, lordings, to fair Concord’s walls,

Where we will pass the day in knightly sports,

The night in dancing and in figured masks,

And offer to God Risus all our sports

[Exeunt.]

ACT II.

PROLOGUE.

[Enter Ate as before. After a little lightning and thundering, let there come forth this show:—Perseus and Andromeda, hand in hand, and Cepheus also, with swords and targets. Then let there come out of an other door, Phineus, all black in armour, with Aethiopians after him, driving in Perseus, and having taken away Andromeda, let them depart, Ate remaining, saying:]

ATE.

Regit omnia numen.

When Perseus married fair Andromeda,

The only daughter of king Cepheus,

He thought he had established well his Crown,

And that his kingdom should for aie endure.

But, lo, proud Phineus with a band of men,

Contrived of sunburnt Aethiopians,

By force of arms the bride he took from him,

And turned their joy into a flood of tears.

So fares it with young Locrine and his love,

He thinks this marriage tendeth to his weal;

But this foul day, this foul accursed day,

Is the beginning of his miseries.

Behold where Humber and his Scithians

Approacheth nigh with all his warlike train.

I need not, I, the sequel shall declare,

What tragic chances fall out in this war.

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,

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