e accent of my ruth again:
She, courteous nymph, the woful Roman pleaseth,
Else no consorts but beasts my pains appeaseth.
Each day she answers in yon neighbouring mountain,
I do expect, reporting of my sorrow,
Whilst lifting up her locks from out the fountain,
She answereth to my questions even and morrow:
Whose sweet rebounds, my sorrow to remove,
To please my thoughts I mean for to approve.
Sweet nymph, draw near, thou kind and gentle echo,
[_Echo_[129]. _I_.
What help to ease my weary pains have I?
What comfort in distress to calm my griefs?
_Griefs_.
Sweet nymph, these griefs are grown, before I thought so.
_I thought so_.
Thus Marius lives disdain'd of all the gods.
_Gods_.
With deep despair late overtaken wholly.
_O lie_.
And will the heavens be never well appeased?
_Appeased_.
What mean have they left me to cure my smart?
_Art_.
Nought better fits old Marius' mind than war.
_Then war_[130].
Then full of hope, say, Echo, shall I go?
_Go_.
Is any better fortune then at hand?
_At hand_.
Then farewell, Echo, gentle nymph, farewell.
_Farewell_.
O pleasing folly to a pensive man!
Well, I will rest fast by this shady tree,
Waiting the end that fate allotteth me.
[_Sits down_.

_Enter_ MARIUS _the son_, ALBINOVANUS, CETHEGUS,
LECTORIUS, _with Soldiers_.

YOUNG MARIUS. My countrymen, and favourites of Rome,
This melancholy desert where we meet,
Resembleth well young Marius' restless thoughts.
Here dreadful silence, solitary caves,
No chirping birds with solace singing sweetly,
Are harbour'd for delight; but from the oak,
Leafless and sapless through decaying age,
The screech-owl chants her fatal-boding lays.
Within my breast care, danger, sorrow dwell;
Hope and revenge sit hammering in my heart:
The baleful babes of angry Nemesis
Disperse their furious fires upon my soul.

LECTORIUS. Fie, Marius, are you discontented still,
When as occasion favoureth your desire!
Are not these no