书城公版Locrine Mucedorus
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第29章 SCENE IV. The field of battle.(4)

ENVY. Nay, stay, minion, there lies a block. What, all on mirth! I'll interrupt your tale And mix your music with a tragic end.

COMEDY. What monstrous ugly hag is this, That dares control thepleasures of our will? Vaunt, churlish cur, besmeared with gory blood, That seemst to check the blossoms of delight, And stifle the sound of sweet Bellona's breath: Blush, monster, blush, and post away with shame, That seekst disturbance of a goddess' deeds.

ENVY. Post hence thy self, thou counter-checking trull; I will possess this habit, spite of thee, And gain the glory of thy wished port: I'll thunder music shall appall the nymphs, And make them shiver their clattering strings: Flying for succour to their dankish caves.

[Sound drums within and cry, 'stab! stab!']

Hearken, thou shalt hear a noise Shall fill the air with a shrilling sound, And thunder music to the gods above: Mars shall himself breathe down A peerless crown upon brave envy's head, And raise his chivall with a lasting fame. In this brave music Envy takes delight, Where I may see them wallow in their blood, To spurn at arms and legs quite shivered off, And hear the cries of many thousand slain. How likst thou this, my trull? this sport alone for me!

COMEDY. Vaunt, bloody cur, nurst up with tiger's sap, That so dost seek to quail a woman's mind. Comedy is mild, gentle, willing for to please, And seeks to gain the love of all estates: Delighting in mirth, mixt all with lovely tales, And bringeth things with treble joy to pass. Thou, bloody, Envious, disdainer of men's joy, Whose name is fraught with bloody stratagems, Delights in nothing but in spoil and death, Where thou maist trample in their luke warm blood, And grasp their hearts within thy cursed paws: Yet vail thy mind, revenge thou not on me; A silly woman begs it at thy hands: Give me the leave to utter out my play, Forbear this place, I humbly crave thee: hence, And mix not death amongst pleasing comedies, That treats naught else but pleasure and delight. If any spark of human rests in thee, Forbear, be gone, tender the suite of me.

ENVY. Why so I will; forbearance shall be such As treble death shall cross thee with despite, And make thee mourn where most thou joyest, Turning thy mirth into a deadly dole, Whirling thy pleasures with a peal of death, And drench thy methods in a sea of blood: This will I do, thus shall I bear with thee; And more to vex thee with a deeper spite, I will with threats of blood begin thy play, Favoring thee with envy and with hate.

COMEDY. Then, ugly monster, do thy worst, I will defend them in despite of thee: And though thou thinkst with tragic fumes To brave my play unto my deep disgrace, I force it not, I scorn what thou canst do; I'll grace it so, thy self shall it confess From tragic stuff to be a pleasant comedy.

ENVY. Why then, Comedy, send thy actors forth And I will cross the first steps of their tread: Making them fear the very dart of death.

COMEDY. And I'll defend them maugre all thy spite: So, ugly fiend, farewell, till time shall serve, That we may meet to parle for the best.

ENVY. Content, Comedy; I'll go spread my branch, And scattered blossoms from mine envious tree Shall prove to monsters, spoiling of their joys.

[Exit.]