Classic Poem

[Sound the alarm. Enter Hubba and Segar at
one door, and Corineius at the other.]

CORINEIUS.
Art thou that Humber, prince of fugitives,
That by thy treason slewst young Albanact?

HUBBA.
I am his son that slew young Albanact,
And if thou take not heed, proud Phrigian,
I'll send thy soul unto the Stigian lake,
There to complain of Humber's injuries.

CORINEIUS.
You triumph, sir, before the victory,
For Corineius is not so soon slain.
But, cursed Scithians, you shall rue the day
That ere you came into Albania.
So perish thy that envy Brittain's wealth,
So let them die with endless infamy;
And he that seeks his sovereign's overthrow,
Would this my club might aggravate his woe.

[Strikes them both down with his club.]