Enter Ate as before. Then let there follow Omphale, daughter to the king of Lydia, having a club in her hand, and a lion’s skin on her back, Hercules following with a distaff. Then let Omphale turn about, and taking off her pantole, strike Hercules on the head; then let them depart, Ate remaining, saying: Quem non Argolici mandota severa Tyranni, Non potuit Juno vincere, vicit amor. Stout Hercules, the mirror of the world, Son to Alemena and great Jupiter, After so many conquests won in field, After so many monsters quelled by force, Yielded his valiant heart to Omphale, A fearful woman void of manly strength. She took the club, and wear the lion’s skin; He took the wheel, and maidenly gan spin. So martial Locrine, cheered with victory, Falleth in love with Humber’s concubine, And so forgetteth peerless Gwendoline. His uncle Corineus storms at this, And forceth Locrine for his grace to sue. Lo here the sum, the process doth ensue. [_Exit._] SCENE I. The camp of Locrine Enter Locrine, Camber, Corineus, Assaracus, Thrasimachus and the soldiers. LOCRINE. Thus from the furty of Bellona’s broils, With sound of drum and trumpets’ melody, The Brittain king returns triumphantly. The Scithians slain with great occasion Do equalize the grass in multitude, And with their blood have stained the streaming brooks, Offering their bodies and their dearest blood As sacrifice to Albanactus’ ghost. Now, cursed Humber, hast thou paid thy due, For thy deceits and crafty treacheries, For all thy guiles and damned strategems, With loss of life, and everduring shame. Where are thy horses trapped with burnished gold, Thy trampling coursers ruled with foaming bits? Where are thy soldiers, strong and numberless, Thy valiant captains and thy noble peers? Even as the country clowns with sharpest scythes Do mow the withered grass from off the earth, Or as the ploughman with his piercing share Renteth the bowels of the fertile fields, And rippeth up the roots with razours keen: So Locrine with his mighty curtleaxe Hath cropped off the heads of all thy Huns; So Locrine’s peers have daunted all thy peers, And drove thin host unto confusion, That thou mayest suffer penance for thy fault, And die for murdering valiant Albanact. CORINEUS. And thus, yea thus, shall all the rest be served That seek to enter Albion gainst our wills. If the brave nation of the Troglodites, If all the coalblack Aethiopians, If all the forces of the Amazons, If all the hosts of the Barbarian lands, Should dare to enter this our little world, Soon should they rue their overbold attempts, That after us our progeny may say, There lie the beasts that sought to usurp our land.