A Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 3 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 319 pages of information about A Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 3.

A Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 3 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 319 pages of information about A Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 3.

Pem.  Then we must both dye.  In the latest of death Tell me, oh tell me, whence proceeds this hate?

Ferd.  I feare not (Pembrooke) to discover now. 
Thou wert my Spokes-man unto Katherine
And treacherously thou stol’st away her heart. 
Oh I can say no more, my spirits doe faynt: 
Pembrooke, farewell; I have reveng’d my wrong.

Pem.  O yet a little longer, gracious time,
Detayne his princely spirit in his brest
That I may tell him he is misse-inform’d
And purge my selfe unto my dying friend. 
But death hath layd his num-cold hand upon me: 
I am arrested to depart this life. 
Deare Ferdinand, although thou be my death,
On thee Ile friendly breathe my latest breath.

    Enter Forrester.

For.  How full of pleasure is this Forrest life! 
My Parke I liken to a Common wealth
In which my Bucks and Does are Citizens;
The Hunters Lodge the Court from whence is sent
Sentence of life or death as please the King;
Onely our government’s a tyranny[135]
In that wee kill our subjects upon sport. 
But stay; what Gentlemen do heere lye slayne? 
If any sparke of life doe yet remayne
Ile helpe to fanne it with a nymble hand. 
The organ of his hand doth play apace;
He is not so far spent but that with helpe
He may recover to his former state. 
How is the other?  I doe feel soft breath
Breake from between his lips.  Oh for some ayd
To beare them to the Forrest to my Lodge,
But as I am Ile try my utmost strength
To save their lives.  First seene shall be the first: 
Patience and Ile returne and fetch the other.
          
                                  [Exit.

Enter Fisherman.

Fisher.  My angle-rod is broke, my sport is done,
But I will fetch my net to catch some fish;
To lose both fish and pleasure is too much. 
Oh what contentment lives there in the brooke! 
What pretty traines are made by cunning hands
To intrap the wily watry Citizens[136]! 
But what art thou that lyest on the ground? 
Sleepst thou or art thou slaine? hath breath his last? 
No sparke of life appeares, yet from his eye
Me thinks I see a glymmering light breake forth,
Which, wanting strength, is like a twilight glimse. 
If there be any hope to save his life
Ile try my utmost cunning.  To my house,
Poore Gentleman, Ile beare thee as a ghest,
And eyther cure thy wounds or make thy grave.
          
                                 [Exit.

Enter Forrester, missing the other taken away,
speaks anything, and exit
.

Enter Clowne and Katharine.

Clow.  Just in this circle I left the two Princes ready to draw; for I read the whole discourse of the Combate in their red eyes.

Kath.  Heere lye their weapons and heere flowes their bloud.

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Project Gutenberg
A Collection of Old English Plays, Volume 3 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.