Not Hecuba, the queen of Ilium When she beheld the town of Pergamus, Her palace, burnst with all devouring flames, Her fifty sons and daughters fresh of hue Murthered by wicked Pirrhus' bloody sword, Shed such sad tears as I for Albanact.
CAMBER.
The grief of Niobe, fair Athen's queen, For her seven sons, magnanimous in field, For her seven daughters, fairer than the fairest, Is not to be compared with my laments.
CORINEIUS.
In vain you sorrow for the slaughtered prince, In vain you sorrow for his overthrow;He loves not most that doth lament the most, But he that seeks to venge the injury.
Think you to quell the enemy's warlike train With childish sobs and womanish laments?
Unsheath your swords, unsheath your conquering swords, And seek revenge, the comfort for this sore.
In Cornwall, where I hold my regiment, Even just ten thousand valiant men at arms Hath Corineius ready at command:
All these and more, if need shall more require, Hath Corineius ready at command.
CAMBER.
