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 a while!
BREMO.
No pity, I will feed upon thy flesh,
And 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.