Volume Vii Part 33 (1/2)

CLOWN. Why, how now, what's the matter?

I thought you would be calling before I had done.

SEGASTO. Come, help, away with my friend.

CLOWN. Why, is he drunk? cannot he stand on his feet?

SEGASTO. No, he is not drunk; he is slain.

CLOWN. Flain! no, by['r] Lady, he is not flain.

SEGASTO. He's killed, I tell thee.

CLOWN. What, do you use to kill your friends?

I will serve you no longer.

SEGASTO. I tell thee the shepherd kill'd him.

CLOWN. O, did a so?

But, master, I will have all his apparel If I carry him away.

SEGASTO. Why, so thou shalt.

CLOWN. Come, then, I will help; ma.s.s, master, I think His mother sang _looby_ to him, he is so heavy.

[_Exeunt_.

MUCEDORUS. Behold the fickle state of man, always mutable; Never at one.

Sometimes we feed on fancies With the sweet of our desires: sometimes again We feel the heat of extreme miseries.

Now am I in favour about the court and country, To-morrow those favours will turn to frowns, To-day I live revenged on my foe, To-morrow I die, my foe revenged on me.

[_Exit.

Enter_ BREMO, _a wild man_.

BREMO. No pa.s.senger this morning? what, not one?

A chance that seldom doth befall.

What, not one? then lie thou there, And rest thyself, till I have further need.

[_Lays down his club_.

Now, Bremo, sith thy leisure so affords, An endless thing. Who knows not Bremo's strength, Who like a king commands within these woods.

The bear, the boar, dares not abide my sight, But hastes away to save themselves by flight.

The crystal waters in the bubbling brooks, When I come by, doth swiftly slide away, And claps themselves in closets under banks, Afraid to look bold Bremo in the face: The aged oaks at Bremo's breath do bow, And all things else are still at my command, Else what would I?

Rend them in pieces, and pluck them from the earth, And each way else I would revenge myself.

Why, who comes here, with whom I dare not fight?

Who fights with me, and doth not die the death?

Not one. What favour shows this st.u.r.dy stick to those, that here Within these woods are combatants with me?

Why, death, and nothing else but present death.

With restless rage I wander through these woods; No creature here but feareth Bremo's force, Man, woman, child; beast and bird, And everything that doth approach my sight, Are forc'd to fall, if Bremo once do frown.