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

And set upon the weakened Troyans’ backs,

For policy joined with chivalry

Can never be put back from victory.

[Exit. Albanact enter and say (clowns with him).]

ALBA.

Thou base born Hun, how durst thou be so bold

As once to menace warlike Albanact,

The great commander of these regions?

But thou shalt buy thy rashness with thy death,

And rue too late thy over bold attempts;

For with this sword, this instrument of death,

That hath been drenched in my foe-men’s blood,

I’ll separate thy body from they head,

And set that coward blood of thine abroach.

STRUMBO.

Nay, with this staff, great Strumbo’s instrument,

I’ll crack thy cockscomb, paltry Scithian.

HUMBER.

Nor wreak I of thy threat, thou princox boy,

Nor do I fear thy foolish insolency;

And but thou better use thy bragging blade,

Then thou doest rule thy overflowing tongue,

Superbious Brittain, thou shalt know too soon

The force of Humber and his Scithians.

[Let them fight. Humber and his soldiers run in.]

STRUMBO.

O horrible, terrible.

[Exit.]

SCENE V. Another part of the field of battle.

[Sound the alarm. Enter Humber and his soldiers.]

HUMBER.

How bravely this young Brittain, Albanact,

Darteth abroad the thunderbolts of war,

Beating down millions with his furious mood,

And in his glory triumphs over all,

Moving the mass squadrants of the ground;

Heaps hills on hills, to scale the starry sky,

As when Briareus, armed with an hundreth hands,

Flung forth an hundreth mountains at great Jove,

And when the monstrous giant Monichus

Hurled mount Olympus at great Mars his target,

And shot huge caedars at Minerva’s shield.

How doth he overlook with haughty front

My fleeting hosts, and lifts his lofty face

Against us all that now do fear his force,

Like as we see the wrathful sea from far,

In a great mountain heaped, with hideous noise,

With thousand billows beat against the ships,

And toss them in the waves like tennis balls.

[Sound the alarm.]

Aye me, I fear my Hubba is surprised.

[Sound again. Enter Albanact.]

ALBA.

Follow me, soldiers, follow Albanact;

Pursue the Scithians flying through the field:

Let none of them escape with victory;

That they may know the Brittains’ force is more

Than all the power of the trembling Huns.

THRASIMACHUS.

Forward, brave soldiers, forward! keep the chase.

He that takes captive Humber or his son

Shall be rewarded with a crown of gold.

[Sound alarm, then let them fight, Humber give back, Hubba enter at their backs, and kill Debon, let Strumbo fall down, Albanact run in, and afterwards enter wounded.]

ALBA.

Injurious fortune, hast thou crossed me thus?

Thus, in the morning of my victories,

Thus, in the prime of my felicity,

To cut me off by such hard overthrow!

Hadst thou no time thy rancor to declare,

But in the spring of all my dignities?

Hadst thou no place to spit thy venom out,

But on the person of young Albanact?

I, that ere while did scare mine enemies,

And drove them almost to a shameful flight,

I, that ere while full lion-like did fare

Amongst the dangers of the thick thronged pikes,

Must now depart most lamentably slain

By Humber’s treacheries and fortune’s spites.

Cursed be her charms, damned be her cursed charms

That doth delude the wayward hearts of men,

Of men that trust unto her fickle wheel,

Which never leaveth turning upside down.

O gods, O heavens, allot me but the place

Where I may find her hateful mansion!

I’ll pass the Alps to watery Meroe,

Where fiery Phoebus in his chariot,

The wheels whereof are decked with Emeralds,

Casts such a heat, yea such a scorching heat,

And spoileth Flora of her checquered grass;

I’ll overrun the mountain Caucasus,

Where fell Chimaera in her triple shape

Rolleth hot flames from out her monstrous paunch,

Searing the beasts with issue of her gorge;

I’ll pass the frozen Zone where icy flakes,

Stopping the passage of the fleeting ships,

Do lie like mountains in the congealed sea:

Where if I find that hateful house of hers,

I’ll pull the pickle wheel from out her hands,

And tie her self in everlasting bands.

But all in vain I breath these threatenings;

The day is lost, the Huns are conquerors,

Debon is slain, my men are done to death,

The currents swift swim violently with blood

And last, O that this last night so long last,

My self with wounds past all recovery

Must leave my crown for Humber to possess.

STRUMBO. Lord have mercy upon us, masters, I think this is a holy day; every man lies sleeping in the fields, but, God knows, full sore against their wills.

THRASIMACHUS.

Fly, noble Albanact, and save thy self.

The Scithians follow with great celerity,

And there’s no way but flight, or speedy death;

Fly, noble Albanact, and save thy self.

[Exit Thrasimachus. Sound the alarm.]

ALBA.

Nay, let them fly that fear to die the death,

That tremble at the name of fatal mors.

Never shall proud Humber boast or brag himself

That he hath put young Albanact to flight;

And least he should triumph at my decay,

This sword shall reave his master of his life,

That oft hath saved his master’s doubtful life:

But, oh, my brethren, if you care for me,

Revenge my death upon his traitorous head.

Et vos queis domus est nigrantis regia ditis,