Come, all of you, and with your shriking notes Accompany the Brittains' conquering host.
Come, fierce Erinnis, horrible with snakes;
Come, ugly Furies, armed with your whips;
You threefold judges of black Tartarus, And all the army of you hellish fiends, With new found torments rack proud Locrine's bones!
O gods, and stars! damned be the gods & stars That did not drown me in fair Thetis' plains!
Curst be the sea, that with outrageous waves, With surging billows did not rive my ships Against the rocks of high Cerannia, Or swallow me into her watery gulf!
Would God we had arrived upon the shore Where Poliphemus and the Cyclops dwell, Or where the bloody Anthrophagie With greedy jaws devours the wandering wights!
[Enter the ghost of Albanact.]
But why comes Albanact's bloody ghost, To bring a corsive to our miseries?
Is't not enough to suffer shameful flight, But we must be tormented now with ghosts, With apparitions fearful to behold?
GHOST.
Revenge! revenge for blood!
HUMBER.
So nought will satisfy your wandering ghost But dire revenge, nothing but Humber's fall, Because he conquered you in Albany.