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, unfeigned love! What is it which true love dares not attempt? 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, methinks 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 [he] taketh hold of her_. BREMO. A happy prey! now, Bremo, feed on flesh: Dainties, Bremo, dainties, thy hungry paunch to fill: Now glut thy greedy guts with lukewarm 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 awhile. BREMO. No pity I; I'll feed upon thy flesh, I'll tear thy body piecemeal joint from joint. AMADINE. Ah, how I want my shepherd's company! BREMO. I'll crush thy bones betwixt two oaken trees. AMADINE. Haste, shepherd, haste, or else thou com'st too late. BREMO. I'll suck the sweetness from thy marrow 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 thyself 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 unweak'ned 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, Say'th, _Spare her, Bremo; spare her, do not kill_. Shall I[178] spare her, which never spared any? To it, Bremo, to it; essay[179] again. I cannot wield my weapons in my hand; Methinks I should not strike so fair a one, I think her beauty hath bewitch'd my force, Or else within me altered nature's course. Ay, woman, wilt thou live in woods with me? AMADINE. Fain would I live, yet loth to live in woods. BREMO. Thon shalt not choose; it shall be as I say; And therefore follow me. [_Exeunt. Enter_ MUCEDORUS _solus_.