Locrine / Mucedorus | Page 8

lusty
soldiers,
That they may be a bulwark to our state,
And bring our
wished joys to perfect end.
ACT II. SCENE II.
[Enter Strumbo, Dorothy, Trompart, cobbling
shoes and singing. To
them enter Captain.]
TROMPART.
We Cobblers lead a merry life:
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan:
STRUMBO.
Void of all ennui and strife:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
DOROTHY.
Our ease is great, our labour small:
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.

STRUMBO.
And yet our gains be much withall:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
DOROTHY.
With this art so fine and fair:
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
TROMPART.
No occupation may compare:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
DOROTHY.
For merry pastime and joyful glee:
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
STRUMBO.
Most happy men we Cobblers be:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
TROMPART.
The can stands full of nappy ale:
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
STRUMBO.
In our shop still withouten fail:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
DOROTHY.
This is our meat, this is our food:
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
TROMPART.
This brings us to a merry mood:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
STRUMBO.
This makes us work for company:

ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
DOROTHY.
To pull the tankards cheerfully:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
TROMPART.
Drink to thy husband, Dorothy,
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
DOROTHY.
Why, then, my Strumbo, there's to thee:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
STRUMBO.
Drink thou the rest, Trompart, amain:
ALL.
Dan, dan, dan, dan.
DOROTHY.
When that is gone, we'll fill't again:
ALL.
Dan diddle dan.
CAPTAIN.
The poorest state is farthest from annoy.
How merrily
he sitteth on his stool!
But when he sees that needs he must be
pressed,
He'll turn his note and sing another tune.
Ho, by your leave,
master Cobbler.
STRUMBO.
You are welcome, gentleman. What will you? any
old
shoes or buskins? or will you have your shoes
clouted? I will do them
as well as any Cobbler in
Cathnes whatsoever.
CAPTAIN.
[Showing him press money.]
O master Cobbler, you are far deceived in me, for don
you see this? I
come not to buy any shoes, but to buy
your self; come, sir, you must

be a soldier in the king's
cause.
STRUMBO.
Why, but hear you, sir; has your king any commission
to
take any man against his will. I promise you, I can scant
believe
it; or did he give you commission?
CAPTAIN.
O sir, ye need not care for that; I need no commission.

Hold, here: I command you, in the name of our king
Albanact, to
appear tomorrow in the town-house of
Cathnes.
STRUMBO.
King Nactaball! I cry God mercy! what have we to do

with him, or he with us? But you, sir master capontail,
draw your
pasteboard, or else I promise you, I'll give
you a canuasado with a
bastinado over your shoulders,
and teach you to come hither with
your implements.
CAPTAIN.
I pray thee, good fellow, be content; I do the king's

command.
STRUMBO.
Put me out of your book, then.
CAPTAIN.
I may not.
STRUMBO.
[Snatching up the staff.]
No! Well, come, sir, will your stomach serve you? by
gog's blue hood
and halidom, I will have a bout with you.
[Fight both. Enter Thrasimachus.]
THRASIMACHUS.
How now, what noise, what sudden clamor's
this?
How now, my captain and the cobbler so hard at it?
Sirs, what
is your quarrel?

CAPTAIN.
Nothing, sir, but that he will not take press money.
THRASIMACHUS.
Here, good fellow; take it at my command,

Unless you mean to be stretched.
STRUMBO.
Truly, master gentleman, I lack no money; if you

please, I will resign it to one of these poor fellows.
THRASIMACHUS.
No such matter,
Look you be at the common
house tomorrow.
[Exit Thrasimachus and the captain.]
STRUMBO.
O, wife, I have spun a fair thread! If I had been
quiet,
I had not been pressed, and therefore well may
I wayment. But come,
sirrah, shut up, for we must to
the wars.
[Exeunt.]
ACT II. SCENE III. The camp of Albanact.
[Enter Albanact, Debon, Thrasimachus, and the Lords.]
ALBA.
Brave cavalries, princes of Albany,
Whose trenchant blades
with our deceased sire,
Passing the frontiers of brave Graecia,
Were
bathed in our enemies' lukewarm blood,
Now is the time to manifest
your wills,
Your haughty minds and resolutions.
Now opportunity
is offered
To try your courage and your earnest zeal,
Which you
always protest to Albanact;
For at this time, yea, at this present time,

Stout fugitives, come from the Scithians' bounds,
Have pestered
every place with mutinies.
But trust me, Lordings, I will never cease

To persecute the rascal runnagates,
Till all the rivers, stained with
their blood,
Shall fully show their fatal overthrow.
DEBON.
So shall your highness merit great renown,
And imitate
your aged father's steps.

ALBA.
But tell me, cousin, camest thou through the plains?
And
sawest thou there the fain heart fugitives
Mustering their
weather-beaten soldiers?
What order keep they in their marshalling?
THRASIMACHUS.
After we passed the groves of Caledone,

Where murmuring rivers slide with silent streams,
We did behold the
straggling Scithians' camp,
Replete with men, stored with munition;

There might we see the valiant minded knights
Fetching careers
along the spacious plains.
Humber and Hubba armed in azure blue,

Mounted upon their coursers white as snow,
Went to behold the
pleasant flowering fields;
Hector and Troialus, Priamus lovely sons,

Chasing the Graecians over Simoeis,
Were not to be compared to
these two knights.
ALBA.
Well hast thou painted out in eloquence
The portraiture of
Humber and his son,
As fortunate as was