Have I dishonoured thy marriage bed With filthy crimes, or with lascivious lusts?
Nay, it is thou that hast dishonoured it:
Thy filthy minds, o'ercome with filthy lusts, Yieldeth unto affections filthy darts.
Unkind, thou wrongst thy first and truest feer;Unkind, thou wrongst thy best and dearest friend;Unkind, thou scornst all skilfull Brutus' laws, Forgetting father, uncle, and thy self.
ESTRILD.
Believe me, Locrine, but the girl is wise, And well would seem to make a vestal Nun.
How finely frames she her oration!
THRASIMACHUS.
Locrine, we came not here to fight with words, Words that can never win the victory;But for you are so merry in your frumps, Unsheath your swords, and try it out by force, That we may see who hath the better hand.
LOCRINE.
Thinkst thou to dare me, bold Thrasimachus?
Thinkst thou to fear me with thy taunting braves, Or do we seem too weak to cope with thee?
Soon shall I shew thee my fine cutting blade, And with my sword, the messenger of death, Seal thee an acquitance for thy bold attempts.
[Exeunt.]
[Sound the alarm. Enter Locrine, Assarachus, and a soldier at one door; Gwendoline, Thrasimachus, at an other; Locrine and his followers driven back.