Classic Poem

[Enter Amadine sola.]

AMADINE.
God grant my long delay procures no harm
Nor this my tarrying frustrate my pretence.
My Mucedorus surely stays for me,
And thinks me over long: at length I come
My present promise to perform.
Ah, what a thing is firm unfained love!
What is it which true love dares not tempt?
My father he may make, but I must match;
Segasto loves, but Amadine must like,
Where likes her best; compulsion is a thrall:
No, no, the hearty choice is all in all,
The shepherd's virtue Amadine esteems.
But, what, me thinks my shepherd is not come.
I muse at that, the hour is sure at hand:
Well here I'll rest till Mucedorus come.

[She sits her down.]

[Enter Bremo looking about, hastily taketh hold
of her.]

BREMO.
A happy prey! now, Bremo, feed on flesh.
Dainties, Bremo, dainties, thy hungry panch to fill!
Now glut thy greedy guts with luke warm blood!
Come, fight with me, I long to see thee dead.

AMADINE.
How can she fight that weapons cannot wield?

BREMO.
What, canst not fight? then lie thou down and die.

AMADINE.
What, must I die?

BREMO.
What needs these words? I thirst to suck thy blood.

AMADINE.
Yet pity me and let me live a while.

BREMO.
No pity I, I'll feed upon thy flesh,
I'll tear thy body piecemeal joint from joint.

AMADINE.
Ah, now I want my shepherd's company.

BREMO.
I'll crush thy bones betwixt two oaken trees.

AMADINE.
Haste, shepherd, haste, or else thou comst too late.

BREMO.
I'll suck the sweetness from thy marie bones.

AMADINE.
Ah spare, ah spare to shed my guiltless blood!

BREMO.
With this my bat will I beat out thy brains.
Down, down, I say, prostrate thy self upon the ground.

AMADINE.
Then, Mucedorus, farewell; my hoped joys, farewell.
Yea, farewell life, and welcome present death!

[She kneels.]

To thee, O God, I yield my dying ghost.

BREMO.
Now, Bremo, play thy part.--
How now, what sudden chance is this?
My limbs do tremble and my sinews shake,
My unweakened arms have lost their former force:
Ah Bremo, Bremo, what a foil hast thou,
That yet at no time ever wast afraid
To dare the greatest gods to fight with thee,

[He strikes.]

And now want strength for one down driving blow!
Ah, how my courage fails when I should strike:
Some new come spirit, abiding in my breast,
Sayth, 'spare her, Bremo, spare her, do not kill.'
Shall I spare her which never spared any?
To it, Bremo, to it, say again.--
I cannot wield my weapons in my hand;
Me thinks I should not strike so fair a one:
I think her beauty hath bewitched my force
Or else with in me altered nature's course.
Aye, woman, wilt thou live in woods with me?

AMADINE.
Fain would I live, yet loath to live in woods.

BREMO.
Thou shalt not choose, it shall be as I say, &
therefore, follow me.

[Exit.]