The tragedy of Antigone, the Theban princesse. Written by T.M.

The tragedy of Antigone, the Theban princesse. Written by T.M.

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Title page

TO THE MOST WORTHILY HONOVRED, ENDYMION, PORTER Esquire one of his Maiesties Bedchamber.

A short argument of this Tragedy.

THE TRAGEDY OF ANTIGONE The Theban Princesse.

Actus Primus,

scena prima.

Scena secunda.

Actus Secundus.

Actus Tertius.

Actus Quartus.

Actus Quintus.

§

§

§

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THE TRAGEDY OF ANTIGONE, The Theban Princesse.

Written by T. May.

First Edition.

LONDON, Printed by Thomas Harper, for Beniamin Fisher, and are to be sould at his shop, at the signe of the Talbot, without Aldersgate. 1631.

TO THE MOST WORTHILY HONOVRED, ENDYMION, PORTER Esquire one of his Maiesties Bedchamber.

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SIR.

THis Tragedy of Antigone may perchance (considering the subiect of it) be thought a Poem too sad and balefull to bee read with pleasure, [Page] or presented with delight vpon any Stage. I confesse the saddnesse of it; but if it suffer for that, it will raise a question more general; Why tragedyes haue at any time bin allowed? Why the ruines and calamities of some men haue beene represented as a delightsome pastime to other men? Why those ancient witts, whom Greece in her learned'st times did highly admire, haue chosen for their deathlesse Poems almost no other arguments then those calamitous storyes of Thebes, Mycenae, Troy, and, most of all, this very discourse of the fatall and incestuous family of Oedipus? where almost [Page] all the passages are so farre (a man would thinke) from delighting men, that they might mooue a suffering euen in the furyes themselues? and why the greatest Princes, both Graecian and Roman, in their highest iollity haue not onely beheld with delight the presentation of them: but for their owne excercise (as many of them as haue had the itch of writing) haue chosen these arguments, and made them into Tragedyes? VVhy this hath been generally so (though the cause neede no Apology, at least not mine) I will venture some few coniectures. All the spectatours are [Page] either wretched or fortunate; the wretched in sad storyes are in some sort eased by fellowship in woe, or delighted with tragicall expressions, as being somewhat of kindred with their owne thoughts; those that are fortunate, are affected, in such showes, either with delight, or wholsome sorrow; if they be delighted, it is in the tast of their own prosperity, which appeares greater, set off by an obiect of such contrariety▪ & this delight is not out of malice (as pleased with the woes of others) but acknowledgement to those high powers which made the difference; if they be sorrowfull, their sorrow is [Page] wholsome; for as in melancholly diseases merry tales are vsed to assist nature: so in too great a ioy, & wantonnes of the soule, such sad representations are as a good allay, depressing the leuity of their thoughts to such a meane, as is fit to entertaine the best contemplations. Moreouer Tragedyes (besides the state of them) are pleasing in the expression, forasmuch as saddnesse doth vsually afford the best straines of writing: to omit other instances, loue it selfe (the vsuall argument of our new Comedy) is there best written, where it is most distressed, and in despairing passion; that part of the [Page] Comedy seeming best, which is nearest tragedy, in that straine also goe most, or the best of loue-sonnets that noware made. But I wander too far in this theame; excuse me (noble Sir) for pressing so much vpon your patience, the worke it selfe, did it not more trust ot your goodnesse then it's owne worth, would thinke it selfe too long to be read by you. If you accept it, it seekes no farther. To speake of you as you deserue, I dare not, since your known modesty would checke my pen: but this I dare say; there are no arts or armes, or any other trueabilities, that euer had the happinesse to know [Page] you, but will sprea [...] your worth, & thinke you most worthy to stand (as you doe) in the presence of a King, wishing you long blest in his Maiesties fauour, & the King blest with moe such seruants as you are. God, after all, grant vnto you his blessed presence; and so I rest

Euer to be commanded by you, Tho: May.

A short argument of this Tragedy.

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ETeocles and Polynices sonnes to Oedipus by that incestuous marriage with his mother Iocasta, hauing slaine each other in a single combate, Creon is crowned King of Thebes. Creon denyes to the Argiue bodies funerall rites, which among the heathen, was therefore esteemed a cruell punishment, because they thought the soules of them, that were vnburied, wandered an hundred yeares before they could be transported by Charon into Elysium. Aemon the sonne of King Creon falling in loue with Antigone, the pious daughter of Oedipus, cannot obtaine his fathers [Page] consent to mary her. Antigone, contrary to the Kings command, goes by night to bury the body of her brother Polynices, and there meetes with Argia the widow of Polynices, and daughter to king Adrastus. They are surprised: Aemon attempting their rescue is wounded, and lyes a while conceal'd. Antigone by Creon is doomed to death. Aemon killeth himselfe. Theseus killeth Creon, and giueth funerall to the Graecians bodyes.

THE TRAGEDY OF ANTIGONE The Theban Princesse.

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Actus Primus,

scena prima.

Oedipus led by Antigone.

Oedipus.

LEt go this wicked hand; oh daughter leaue me,

Leaue me while thou art vertuous, before

Th' infection of my crimes do blast thy goodnesse

Or draw some plague vpon thee; this dire head

Abhorr'd by heauen and earth, liuing in Thebes

Brought forth a pestilence, which helpe of art

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Could neuer cure, vntill, by heauens decree,

Most hatefull I was banish'd from the City.

Oh Daughter leaue me.

Anti.

Neuer, neuer Sir.

While you are heere, Cythaeron's craggy mount

Is my abode, and farre prefern'd before

Labdacus stately palace, or the towers

Of wealthy Thebes, for which my brothers striue,

What there I lou'd, I am possest of heere,

My Father's presence; doe not banish me

Thither againe; that place is banishment,

While you are heere; what but impiety,

And brothers hatred shall I there behold?

Oed.

Thou art too good, Antigone, thy birth

Would make me Ioue my crimes, but that all sense

Of vertue, as of light, is dead in me.

If thou wilt guide me, guide me to that high

And fatall cliffe, from whence vnhappy Ino

Pursu'd, leap'd downe into the seas, and mett

The danger which shee fled, there let me ly

Conceal'd for euer from the eye of heauen

Ah could I kill my memory as well,

That no succeeding ages might relate

The name and story of sad Oedipus!

Anti.

Be not vniust vnto your selfe to thinke

You haue deserued death; the gods call that

Mis-hap and errour, which your cruell selfe

Against your selfe call crime; loue would not hold

His vengefull thunder, if he iudg'd it so.

The age were good, were men as penitent

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For true and reall faults, as you for that,

Which ignorance hath wrought, and was the crime

Of fate it selfe, not yours: you could not thinke

That Theban Laius and Iocasta were

Your happlesse parents; and too great a feare

Of beeing guilty, made you what you fear'd.

Remembring what the oracle foretold,

You left a Kingdomes glory, and forsooke

Good Polybus and louing Merope,

Your then supposed parents, and betooke

Your selfe vnto a willing banishment.

What more then this could you haue done? to keepe

Your goodnesse, you forsooke a crowne, which others

Striue to attaine by all impiety.

Yet cruell fate pursu'd you still, and made

Your vertuous minde the way to your offence;

As if the Gods themselues had punish'd you

For striuing to be innocent, when they

Had-fore decree'd your guilt, take comfort Sir,

No man offends, but where the will consents.

Oed.

How well canst thou, Antigone, that bea [...]'st,

A Magazen of vertuous thoughts within thee,

Speake words of comfort, but accursed I

Am most vncapable, there's nought in me,

But horrour, greife, despaire and misery.

Shew me some way of death, or let me goe.

Anti.

I cannot leaue you Sir, nor shew your death,

But where I meane to beare you company.

Oed.

I neuer should haue had a vertuous childe

But to afflict me more; nature will worke

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A miracle to make my sufferings greater.

The Sunne shall bring blacke night, the Euening starre

Vsher the day, and seas shall meete the sky

To make addition to my misery!

Anti.

good Sir, goe take some rest; doe not destroy

That life, on which another life depends.

Oed.

There's none but thou, has a commanding power

Ore Oedipus, if thou command me leape

Into Sicilian Aetna's scalding throate,

I'll gladly doo't; if thou wilt haue it so

I will, like Titius, with my liuer feede

A tiring vultur; more, I will take rest;

Nay, most of all, Ile liue at thy request.

Anti.

I see some signes of rest vpon him now. Exeunt.

Scena secunda.

Aemon.

Aemon.

How well this sad and solitary place

Suites with my thoughts? these vnfrequented woods,

Where nature voide of artificiall robes

Presents her naked and vngarnish'd face.

In such abodes as these dwelt piety,

White innocence, and spotlesse chastity

In that first golden age when Saturne reign'd.

And still me thinkes within these woods he reignes,

Though banish'd quite from all the world beside,

Here liues the soule of vertue; here abides

The faire Antigone, whose matchlesse goodnesse

Vpbraides, and expiates this ages crimes,

And quite our-weighs th'impiety of Thebes,

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This place the Gods, disdaining other sights,

Behold with wonder, when Antigone

With pious hands directs her blinded sire

The wofull Oedipus; hither the Graces,

The chaster Nymphs, and harmelesse Dryades

Leauing their bowers of pleasure, all resort

To wa [...]te on her, and beare her company.

Antigone, Aemon.

Anti.

My father is asleepe; you powers aboue

Send sweete refreshment to his wearyed soule.

Oh pity him, and punish not too far [...]e

That crime which fate and you your selues haue made.

He has already beene himselfe a iudge

Too cruell to himselfe, to expiate

His fatall errours, left a crowne and scepter,

Fled mens society, and day it selfe,

Torne out his innocent vnhappy eyes.

Now since he wants the comfort of your light

Grant him a quiet vndisturbed night.

Young Aemon heere?

Aem.

Pardon me royall virgin,

Thinke it not rudenesse in me thus to presse

Vpon your priuacyes; but call it seruice,

Or zeale to wait vpon you, and behold

What I doo most admire.

Anti.

Sir, tis no fault

That I can apprehend; or if it bee,

Tis such a fault as punishes it selfe.

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This is the house of sorrow; nought is heere

That can inuite or recompense your comming.

Aem.

To visite you, so you be pleas'd to grace

That visite with a welcome, is a blessing

No place has power to lessen, it would make

Hells saddest caue a faire Elysium.

Anti.

You come from Court, and speake as that has taught you.

This place knowes no such language.

Aem.

Aemon neuer

Was tax'd of flattery, nor will your worth

Admit it; gentle Lady, be but pleas'd

To thinke my heart speakes in my tongue to you.

Oh giue me leaue but to confesse my flame,

Which neuer can be hid; a better fire

More chast, more true, and full of constancy,

(I dare maintaine it) warmes no breast on earth.

No earthly power but sweete Antigone

Can sentence me to blisse or endlesse woe.

Oh saue that creature that depends on you.

Make me immortall by a faire returne

Of grace from you and fauour.

Anti. Noble Aemen,

(That title, though I hated you, your worth

Would challenge from my truth) I loue you better

Then so to worke your ruine; Loue and wed-locke

Haue still beene fatall in our family.

The balefull owles and croaking rauens sing

Our Hymenaean songs, and furies light

Their brands for torches to our bridall bedds.

Aem.

No, wondrous maide, you beare a heauen about you,

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A heauen of vertue, that is proofe against

The furies rage, and fortunes vtmost spite:

You are aboue them all. Oh take me to you,

And by coniunction of your goodnesse, make

Me higher then the power of fate can reach.

Anti.

These are no times for Hymen, when the frowne

Of all the gods lyes heauy on our house.

Oh mooue that suite no more; but yet as farre

As my chast sorrow can admit of loue,

Let this suffice you, I do loue your soule.

And if this storme should cleare, and I haue power

To marry euer, Aemon is the man

Of all the world I choose.

Aem.

Oh heauenly voyce!

This promise from diuine Antigone,

More then fruition of the proudest beauty

That ere mortality could boast, reuiues me,

And makes me euer happy; all the howers,

That from my countreys cause, and from the warre

I can be spar'd, Ile keepe as holy ones

To pay deuotion heere, heere Ile relate

What euer fortune throwes on doubting Thebes.

But one chast kisse and so farewell.

Anti.

You haue it.

Yee powers of loue, bee all auspicious now.

Hymen redeeme the wrongs that thou hast done

Our house already; had I neuer seene

Young Aemon's face, nere knowne his matchlesse worth,

No other man or minde had ere had power

To warme Antigones cold breast with loue.

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Prosper that flame that you your selues did mooue.

Dircus, Ianthus.

Dir:

Tis so, Ianthus, Aemon is in loue

With faire Antigone; no other passion

Could make so fresh a youth and spirit as his

To seeke such sad retreats; from that dark groue,

Which cloaths Cythaerens rough and craggy top,

Where farre from sight and company of men

The wofull Oedipus laments alone

His happlesss;e errours fault, vnseene by any

But good Antigone his pious daughter,

How oft of late braue Aemon has beene mett!

What but her loue had power to draw him thither?

Ian.

Shee is an obiect worthy of Aemon's loue.

The mirrour of her sexe, a lassting patterne

Of piety to all succeeding times.

Dir.

As much true wortha nd manly vertue liues

In noble Aemons breast, hee's the true brother

Of braue Menaeceus, whose deuoted head

Sau'd Thebes from ruine.

Ian.

True, if Thebes be safe,

As neuer fairer were her hopes then now;

Th'Argolian forces are dishearten'd quite,

And of their seuen proud leaders, which of late

Beset the gates of Thebes, but two are left

Onely Adrastus, and our banish'd prince.

If we, I say, be safe, we owe that safety

To Creons sonnes, to braue Menaeceus death,

And Aemon's liuing valour; one by death

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Gaue life to thousands; t'other noble life

Deseru'd an easier way to fame then death.

Dir.

But I haue heard newes from the enemies campe,

Alls quiet there, and tis suppos'd they meane

To fight no more, but secretly dislodge,

And fly away by night.

Ian.

Tis like enough,

And would the King be rul'd by my aduice

Hee should not follow them, there has been spilt

Already blood enough in that vniust,

Vnnaturall cause. Those braue Argolians,

Whose vertues wee, although their enemies,

Must needes acknowledge, and lament their deaths,

Besides those dearer funeralls, which Thebes

Has mourn'd already for, to iustifie

The broken faith of King Eteocles.

But who's that makes to vs so speedily,

Thy lookes speak newes, what are they man? be briefe.

Nuntius, Dircus, Ianthus.

Nun.

The King was walking round the city walls,

When straight a parley sounded from the foe,

And Polynices our exiled Prince

Himselfe appear'd, who from below complain'd

So many noble funerals had pay'd

The forfeit of his brothers periury;

Defi'd him then, and challeng'd him alone

To end the difference in a single combate.

Dir.

Oh horrid monstrous challenge?

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Ian.

Has the King

Accepted it?

Nun.

Yes, with a seeming ioy,

And did complaine alone that he himselfe

Was not the challenger.

Dir.

Vnnaturall!

Nun.

Though many that were by, perswaded him

He neede not answer it at all; his strength

Was great enough to keepe the crowne without it.

Ian.

But piety how euer should forbid it.

Nun.

It did not mooue his breast; thou shalt (quoth he)

Immediatly at head of all our troopes

Finde vs prepar'd to answer, and to take

Mistake away, wee'll weare our royall crowne▪

It grieues vs onely t'was thy motion first.

And one of vs, when this blacke fight is done,

Shall without riuall keepe the Theban crowne.

Ian.

Come Dircus, let's away, and or preuent,

Or see the issue of this dire intent.

Exeunt.

Chorus Thebanorum.

Cho.

Can Thebes yet finde no peace, nor see

A period of her misery?

What booted braue Menaeteus death,

Who gaue vp his deuoted breath

To saue his Countrey? what the falls

Of all those worthyes, whom the walls

Of our sad Thebes late trembled at?

Bold Capaneus, whose strange fate

No human strength, but from aboue

The thunderbolts of armed Ioue

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Could worke; the stout Hippomedon,

And Meleager's beautious sonne;

Apollo's sacred Prophet too.

Quicke to Auernus forc'd to goe

Amphiaraus, to preuent

The fates, by his so strange descent

Frighting the Ghosts that dwell below.

Nor could the fatall sisters know,

Before they saw him 'mong'st the dead;

That they should cut his vitall thread.

These, and a thousand worthyes moe

Are fled downe to the shades below,

And yet the wicked part of warre

Doth still remaine; the Princes are

Both yet aliue, and yet doe hate.

What end can be compos'd by fate?

Their hate is impious, but to try

The cause, were more impiety.

Our feares doe still encrease, the skyes

Are fill'd with nought but prodigyes

Which woes and ruines doe display.

I long to heare what fate to day

The field affords; relate to vs

How blacke so ere and ominous.

Nuntius, Chorus.

Nun.

Then heare a story that might make

Amazed natures selfe to shake

The Princes both are slaine (alas).

[Page]Cho.

What guilty hands could act such tragedyes?

Nun.

Nay there's the sorrow of it, and a griefe

Worse then their death's are, in a single combate

They slew each other.

Cho.

Oh blacke family?

But yet relate the manner of their death.

Nun.

When this great warre of one diuided wombe,

Two brothers mett, both armies stood at gaze,

Amazed both; the greiued gods of warre,

Withdrew their presence from so blacke a fight.

Bellona broke her lance, the blew-ey'd maide

Fled from the field asham'd, and Mars droue backe

His Thracian charriot; in whose stead the furyes

Marshall'd the field, and all th' Ogygian ghosts

In a blacke ring beset the combatants

Blasting the day with dampes of Acheron.

No Trumpets sounded, nor shrill cornets peirc'd

The wounded aire; for these the nights sad King

Thrice thunder'd from Auernus; thrice the Earth

with mournfull grones gaue signall to the fight.

Old men complain'd that they had liu'd too long.

To see that horrid sight; the women shreik'd,

And weeping mothers from the walls forbad

Their children to behold it, but the Princes

With such a furious hatred both encounter

As if the soules of all their slaughter'd friends,

And both the armyes, whom their cause engag'd,

Had liu'd in them, till fate so cruelly

Ballanc'd their strength, that both were slaine, yet both

were guilty conquerours.

Cho.

But did they dy

Together then.

Nun:

Eteocles fell first;

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Ore whom, before death closed vp his eyes,

Bloodlesse and feeble Polynices stood,

And from his head taking th'imperiall crowne

Empal'd himselfe therewith; at last (quoth hee)

Thou art mine owne. oh doe not close his eyes

Pale death, till he haue seene me weare the Crowne.

But I must leaue it too; Oh short short raigne.

If there be iustice in the other world,

Before great Minos vrne, it Minos vrne

Be not a fable, will I summon thee,

Nor shall this combate end our enmity.

Then on his brother falling downe he dy'd.

Cor.

Oh horrid fight! bright Phaebus hide thy head,

Wrap vp the day in foggy clouds, and make

An endlesse night, to hide this tragedy

From human eyes; a blacker deed then this

Thy light did nere discouer, here let all

The prodigyes that threaten'd vs, haue end.

Nun.

The Argiues all with winged speede are fled,

And Thebes once more has peace; but that, I feare

Long cannot last.

Chor.

What storme can threaten now?

Nun.

Creon no sooner was saluted King

(For so hee was since both those Princes fell)

But he commanded (Oh fond tyranny)

No man on paine of death should dare to bury

One body of the Argiues, they (alas)

Remaine exposed in the open field

To feede the foules, or perish in the aire.

Nor must the Argiues only want the rites

Of funerall; but Theban Polynices

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Because with them he fought against his countrey,

Remaines exposed as the Argiues are

In th' open aire, who ere shall bury him,

His owne dead carcasse shall supply the place.

Cho.

Thebes will, I feare, incurre the enmity

Of nations by this act, and we shall wish

(If Creon so begin his froward reigne)

Th' vnhappy house of Oedipus againe.

Finis actui primis

Actus Secundus.

Ornitus, Argia, Deiphile.

Arg.

WHere shall we vent our griefes? what power on earth

Can lend our woes redresse?

Deiph.

Accursed Thebes,

Ist not enough thy guilty soile hath drunke

So many princes bloods, but after death

Vnto their Ghosts thou still shouldst prooue a foe,

And barre what nature, and all lawes bestow?

Ar.

Whither is goodnesse fled from humane breasts?

Tygers themselues, if tygers could performe

These rites of funeralls, would now correct

The malice of mankinde.

Arg.

What shall we doe

T'appease the ghosts of our vnbury'd Lords?

Deiph.

Goe sue to Thebes, perchance the sighs, and teares

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Of weeping queenes may mooue the tyrants heart:

Or.

No, royall Ladies, banish from your breasts

That flattering hope; no teares, nor prayers can mooue,

The ruthlesse tyrants minde; an impious oath

Hath bound his cruelty; his watchmen tell

The carcasses, and guard the place, to keepe

Sad friends from thence: no creatures haue accesse

To that dire field, but beasts, and birds of prey.

His hate is constant, sooner hope t'appease

Busiris altars, or the fiends themselues,

Then sauage Creon; venture not to Thebes.

Dei.

What other course is left vs?

Orn.

To performe

To their deare names such empty funeralls

As fortune will allow; or if that that

Will not suffice, goe speedily to Athens;

Thither all conquering Theseus is return'd,

Triumphant now from th' Amazonian warre,

Whose mighty arme all sauadge tyrants dread,

Whose high Heroike thoughts were ne're auerse

From suppliants, and for encouragement

To all that come, in midd'st of Athens stands

A gratious altar, where white mercy dwells,

The poore mans goddesse, shaded with a groue

Ofsuppliant Oliues, and chast Laurell trees.

None are deny'd to enter, but the rich,

And fortunate; poore wretches, night and day,

Find free accesse, and there haue leaue to pay

Their cheape deuotion; no slaine bullocks blood,

No Frankincense, nor rich Arabian fumes

Do feede that altar▪ sighs, and floods of teares

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Are all that goddesse craues; no gold adornes

Her humble roofes, as those proud temples rais'd

By happy Monarchs, and great conquerers,

Instead of trophees, and triumphall robes,

Torne haire, and widowes mourning garments hang

About the temple, thither from all coasts

Vnhappy soules repaire, sad folke subdu'd

In warre, or banish'd from their natiue soiles,

Or those, whom happlesse errour has made guilty.

There they implore, and there obtaine their peace.

Arg.

Goe you to Athens, sister, and intreat

Great Theseus aide, whilest I, whose fatall quarrell

Was cause of all this dire and mournfull warre,

Will try what mercy can be found in Thebes.

Deiph.

Do not expose your life to such an hazard.

Arg.

What mischeife can an humble suppliant feare?

Besides my suite to Creon will in Thebes

Be seconded by Polynices friends.

Goe you with speed to Athens, if I faile,

That your petitions timely may preuaile.

And all the gods prosper your pious suite.

Arg.

May Thebes prooue gentle when Argia enters.

Exeunt. Manet Argia, Menaetes.

Arg.

Now I am free to act what I designe.

Shall I expect the doubtfull grant of Creon,

Or Theseus lingringe aide, whilest thou, deare Lord,

Art foode for Vulturs? whilst thy funerall

Decreases daily, and thy wandering Ghost

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Perchance complayning to th'infernall gods

Cal'st me vnkinde, and cruell? I will lose

No longer time, no danger shall withstand

That act, which loue, and my chast fires command.

Exit.

Creon, Eurydice, Ianthus, Aephytus.

Cre.

Mooue me no more in that, can Aemon finde

No match'mongst all the noble Theban Maides,

Nor forreigne Princes, but Antigone?

To mixe the fortune of our house with that

Incestuous, dire, and fatall family?

Mooue me no more I say.

Eury.

but good, my Lord,

Weigh not alone her haplesse parentage,

(Though that were royall, and ally'd to you

In neere degrees) but her admired vertue,

In which the generall voyce of people speakes her

As much excelling, as the worst of all

Her wretched race were infamous for vice.

Cre.

What reall vertue euer could proceede

From such an impious stock? or being borne,

Could euer prosper?

Eury.

Doe not taxe so farre

The iustice of the gods, that they should punish

In good Antigone her kindreds crimes:

They haue already with dire punishments

Pay'd for their proper guilt; and her rare vertues

By the same law may challenge, as a due,

The greatest blessings that the gods can grant.

[Page]Cre.

No act of hers can recompence the guilt

Her birth alone has brought into the world,

And now we'll purge the city, Aephytus,

Goe finde out Oedipus, and in our name

Confine him to Cythaeron; speake it death,

If ere he shew within the walls of Thebes

His ominous head.

Aeph.

That banishment, my liege,

Is come too late, hee is confin'd already

Vnto his latest home, griefe for his sonnes

Has broke at last his great and stubborne heart.

Ian.

The queene Iocasta hearing that sad newes

Beating her breast, tearing her hoary haire,

And vttering sad complaints against the gods,

And fates seuere decrees, at last espy'd

That fatall sword by which old Laius dy'd

On which she fell, and ended her sad life.

Cre.

We haue no teares for her, although our sister;

Let all the plagues, that Thebes so long has felt,

Take end with them. None but Antigone

Is now remaining of that family.

Goe thou, Ianthus, in our name command her

To keepe her house in Thebes, nor stirre from thence,

Vntill our farther pleasure shall be knowne.

Exit Ian.

Eury.

Be good to her, my Lord, for Aemons sake.

What ere mishap befall Antigone

Hee'll deepely share in, for I feare his loue

Is too too constant ere to be remoou'd.

Rather then loose him, grant his lawfull suite.

Cre.

Ile rather grant him death then marriage there.

[Page]Eur.

Remember hee's our sonne, our only sonne,

And vertuous too, of whom the Kingdome boasts.

Blast not their hopes in him, the fate of loue

Is irresistable.

Cre.

Let Aemon know

Wee'll be his fate. No more Eurydice.

Ianthus, Creon, Eurydice.

Ian.

Antigone was lately met alone

Without the city. None of all her seruants

Were priuy to her going, nor yet know

Whither their Lady went.

Cre.

Ha! I suspect

What she intends to doe. If I guesse right

She goes vpon her ruine. Aephytus,

Double the watch, and with a carefull eye

Ore looke the knaues; this night shall be thy charge.

Performe it well, and thou shalt finde reward

Beyond thy wishes; let no negligence,

No gifts, no fauour, nor respect to any,

How neereso ere to vs, make thee or them

Slacke in your charges, as your liues shall answer

Our strictest iustice.

Aeph.

Doe not feare me Sir.

Cre.

Ile be at hand my selfe to make all sure.

Exeunt.

Antigone sola:

Ant.

Poast to the West, bright Phaebus, and thou night,

That robb'st mortality of light, to lend them

[Page]

A greater blessing, rest and sweet ropose,

Spread thy black mantle ore yon mourning fields,

Which those dead Grecians strew, where too too long

My wronged brother Polynices lyes

Barr'd by vnnaturall, and iniurious Thebes,

Dead from a tombe, as liuing from a Crowne.

This wrong must I redresse, assist me vertue,

And all yee gods, that fauour piety.

I haue at last escapt the curious eyes

Of all that watcht my actions, and expect

Nought but the safe concealement of the night:

Were but these rites perform'd, not Creons spite,

Nor racks, nor tortures should my soule affright.

Chorus Thebanorum.

1

What could th' Argolian ghosts, though once our foes,

Deserue so much from vs, as thus to lose

The rites of funerall, which all mankinde

Iustly expect from greatest foes to finde?

Why should the land that gaue them death, deny

Them sepulture? pursuing enmity

Farther then that? why with so black a staine

Dost thou pollute the entrance of thy reigne

Vnhappy Creon, thwarting natures law,

Vpon thy selfe and fatall Thebes to draw

The hate and curse of nations, who will make

The quarrell theirs; Pluto himselfe will take

Reuenge for this great losse, that must befall

His Monarchy, whil'st these Argolians all

[Page]

Vnburied lie, wandring a hundred yeare

Exil'd from him for want of sepulcher.

2

Thine anger bootes not, Creon; 'tis all one

Whether the fire or putrefaction

Dissolue them; all to natures bosome goe,

And to themselues their ends the bodies owe.

If now the Argiues bodies be not burn'd,

They shall when earth and seas to flames are turn'd.

Earth will, inspite of thee, receiue againe

What euer she brought forth; and they obtaine

Heauens couerture, that haue no graues at all.

Thou that deny'st these people funerall,

Why dost thou fly those slaughter-smelling fields?

Breathe, if thou canst, the aire this sad place yeelds.

Those vanquish'd carcasses alone possesse

The ground, and barre the conquerours accesse.

3

When that annoyance shall be vanish'd quite,

The wandring ghosts will still remaine, and fright

The bafefull place; plowmen shall feare to toyle

In furrowes of this ill-manured soyle.

This ghostly land of ours perchance shall be

Tane for Avernus by posterity,

And claim'd by Pluto as his monarchy,

Where thousand wandring soules together fly.

Cleare Dirce shall be made the Poets theame,

Instead of muddy Styx, whose fatall streame

The ghosts so striue to be transported ore

By churlish Charon to Elysiums shore:

And rather then so great an hoast should seeme

Exil'd from thence, it will be thought by them

[Page]

Another Acheron shall heere be made,

And they possesse their owne Elysian shade.

1.

What shall we doe to cure this fatall staine

Vpon our nation?

2.

Nothing but complaine.

Actus Tertius.

Aemon.

MY feares haue brought me early to this place.

The night is young; No watches yet are set.

How sad and deepe a silence does possesse

These mourning fields! but why should that seeme strange!

Why shake I thus? Why do my coward thoughts

Tell me tis ominous? is it not night?

And who dares tread on this forbidden ground?

The Rauens, Wolues, and Vulturs heere haue fill'd

Their hungry mawes, and now are gone to rest.

What noise should I expect, vnlesse the Ghosts

Of these dead Greekes with querulous cryes should fill

The aire of night? what horrour thus inuades me?

Is it because the Schreich owle cry'd about me

Passing the gates of Thebes? because to night

I haue so often stumbled on dead men?

Tut; these are toyes for children, let not feare,

That euer was a stranger to this breast,

Reigne in it now. But tis Antigone,

[Page]

Whom cruell vertue will command to night

Into a world of danger, is the cause

Of all my feare. Oh faire Antigone,

Why art thou good? so excellently good,

To make me more then wretched? you bright starres,

That doe alternallie with Phoebus rule

And measure time, if vertue be a kinne

To heauen and you, if your faire influence

Gouerne this lower world, let not the night,

Which is your time of reigne, giue priuiledge

To murders, witchcrafts, and infernall arts,

Whilest vertue suffers, and white innocence

Is made a prey. Ile watch the fields to night;

But not be seene, till time require mine aide.

Secretly shrowded in yon Cypresse groue

Ile watch what fortunes doe attend my loue.

Exit.

Menaetes, Argia.

Men.

Madam, the place is neere; the noisome aire,

Which those vnburyed carcasses exhale,

Growes stronger still, and from that feeble shine,

Which to the night halfe-clouded Cynthia lends,

How large a shade the lofty Theban walls

Spread ore this field of death! those twinckling lights,

Which we from hence discerne, burne in the tower

Of Creon's cruell watch.

Arg.

Oh Thebes, a name

Once deare to me, but now a word of horrour,

And endlesse sorrow! yet giue leaue t' enterre

[Page]

My husbands hearse, and I will loue thee still,

And leaue my heart for euermore to dwell

On thy deare ground, behold with what attendance,

What state the great Adrastus daughter comes

To claime her right at Thebes; how poore a claime

The wronged wife of Polynices makes.

Tis not thy wealth, nor Cadmus stately throne,

Nor crowne, nor septer that Argia claimes.

I craue but mourning free, but death and dust,

And such abhorred dust, as thou disdainst

To harbour louingly, bestow but what

Thou hat'st on me, and take the greatest thankes

A queene can giue; and thou beloued ghost

Of my dead Lord, if through these fields thou wander,

And loue the rites that I performe to night,

Direct me where thy wronged body lyes.

Men.

Madam this way, nearer the city walls

My Lord was slaine, & there perchance he lyes.

Exeunt▪,

Dircus with a Torch.

Dir.

Prince Aemon is abroad, and woe is me

Gone with too great a confidence I feare

Vpon my plot, which is defeated quite.

The watch is doubled, and more strictly kept

Then heretofore, no possiblity

To lay them all asleepe, what he entended

To worke vpon it, is quite frustrate now.

Oh could I meete him but to let him know

What has befall'n. Ile range these fields to find him.

Exit.

[Page]Menaetes and Argia with the dead body.

Arg.

Was this the sight was promis'd me at Thebes?

Are these the triumphs of my dearest Lord?

Thus to thy natiue countrey dost thou bid

Argia welcome? thus dost thou requite.

The entertainement, that kind Argos gaue

To thee a stranger? why prepar'st thou not

The Theban palace to receiue thy queene?

But why complaine I vainely? thou alas

Art held a stranger to thy natiue Thebes,

Nay more, a foe, to whom the cruell ground

Denyes that common bounty, which in death

The meanest creatures challenge at her hand.

But woe is me, t'was I that caus'd thy fall,

T'was I that moou'd my father to this warre,

And all those Graecian Princes; happy else

Mightst thou haue liu'd at Argos still with me,

And ne're set foote on this accursed ground.

Did I for this entreat those valiant Greekes

To warre with Thebes, to see my dearest Lord

Thus all deform'd with gore, trod downe in dust,

And couer'd ore with filth?

Men.

See, Madam, see

The mortall wound yet gaping on his breast.

Arg.

Was this a brothers hand? but in that name

I finde thy guilt as much; Ile rather thinke

Thou nere hadd'st any kindred, neuer brother,

Nor other name of blood, which nature meant

A name of loue. For where are all their teares?

[Page]

Where is their sorrow now? if not in Thebes

Where hast thou kindred? none laments but I;

To me alone is Polynices dead.

Where is thy mother, and thy sisters now?

Where is that good Antigone, so fam'd

Forpiety, whom thou so oft would'st praise,

And tell such pleasing stories of her vertue?

Antigone with a Torch.

Ant.

About this place he lyes, deare Ghost forgiue

Thy Sisters slacknesse, and with fauour now

Accept these louing, though late rites I doe.

A Graecian Lady? (so her habit speakes her)

Some pious sorrow brings her to this place:

Lady the gods assist your piety.

Arg.

Are you a wofull widow'd Lady too,

That come to breake dire Creons sauage law?

But yet you seeme a Theban; all their bodyes

Haue rites of funerall perform'd already.

Or does your too too charitable griefe?

Extend to some vnhappy Graecian soule?

Anti.

I know not how to answer you; the man

Whose hearse I seeke, was once a Thebes, prince;

But since his natiue soile did proue to him

So cruell, and vnnaturall, I dare

Not call him Theban. Gentle Argos proou'd

A kinder home to him, and freely gaue

What Thebes, though due, deny'd, a princely state

With royall nuptialls; now among the soules

[Page]

Of those vnbury'd Graecians wanders he,

And still perhapps desires to bee esteem'd

One of their company, hating for euer

(Ah woe is me) the memory of Thebes.

His name was Polynices, my vnhappy,

Though dearest brother.

Arg.

Oh my heart? are you

That good Antigone, whom I so long

Haue wish'd to see?

Ant.

I am that wofull maide.

Arg.

Then see your brother my deare husbands hearse

Your griefe is mine.

Ant.

Pardon me royall sister,

Are you Argia great Adrastus daughter?

Let me adore the best of woman kinde.

Has your most faithfull vnexampled loue

Brought you so farre, and on so cruell hazards

To my dead brother? was it not enough

That first so great a princesse as your selfe

Aduanc'd a banish'd man, and freely gaue

That loue to him, which happyest princes sought?

But that his dire misfortunes euermore

Should make your vertue wretched?

Arg.

Dearest sister,

Whose knowledge I am proud, though thus, to meete,

By this true knot of euerlasting loue

Our sorrow tyes to night, I here protest,

No griefe, no losse that banishment could bring

Did mooue so much sad Polynices heart,

As parting from thy dearest company.

No name to him was halfe so deare in Thebes,

No name so often as Antigone

[Page]

Would his sad tongue to me alone repeate.

Antigo.

And witnesse all yee sacred deities,

Though Polynices from his natiue Thebes

Were banish'd long, yet from a sisters heart

The loue of thee could neuer be exil'd,

Nor Thebes without thy presence pleasing to me.

How oft haue I vpon Cytherons mount

Appeas'd my fathers anger toward thee?

And dost thou thus visite thy sister heere?

Oh my wrong'd brother?

Arg.

Oh my dearest Lord!

When first at Argos I beheld thy face,

It was deform'd with blood, and wounded then,

Yet then I lou'd it; fortune to my loue

Shew'd thee at first a pityed spectacle

As now at last, dearest Antigone;

My brother Tydeus met him then at Argos,

Both strangers there, before affinity

Had made them brothers, in a mutuall rage

They fought; but all the blood that then was drawne

Seem'd but a sacrament, that did confirme

Their after rare and vnexampled loue.

Anti.

Ay me, how different was i [...] from the loue

Which heere a naturall brother shew'd to him!

Argos, how farre dost thou disgrace our Thebes

In nature and in honour!

Menae.

Royall Ladyes,

The night growes old, and danger threatens vs.

Be speedy now: these obsequies perform'd,

You may with more security enioy

Each others mutuall loue, and then discourse

Of Thebes, and Argos; danger, and the time

[Page]

Will not permit it now; not farre from hence

Are many fragments left of funerall fire,

Where Thebans haue beene burn'd; those let vs vse,

And then retire from this vnhappy place.

Aephytus with the watch.

Aeph.

VVhere didst thou see those lights? 1. About the place

VVhere Polynices body lyes.

Aeph.

If any

Haue there perform'd forbidden obsequies,

They cannot farre escape; pursue with speede;

Spare none; you know your oath, and penalty.

Aemon, and Dircus.

Aem.

The watch is vp, and with a winged speede

Pursues those lights, which my presaging soule

Tells me attend on faire Antigone.

Should what I feare prooue true, they must not seize her,

If all perswasions, promise of reward,

Nor gold preuaile not, the deare cause will lend

This arme a strength aboue mortality.

Exeunt.

Creon, Ianthus.

Cre.

The watch is diligent; they doe not know

That I am in the field.

Ian.

No sure, my Lord.

For your disguise is perfect, and no notice

VVas giuen from me at all.

Cre.

VVhat things are these?

[Page]Two haggs passe ouer the stage.

Ian.

Witches, my Lord, that come to exercise

On these dead bodyes that bestrew the field

Their damned arts; here in the depth of night

With incantations, and abused herbes

They turne the dead's pale faces to enquire

And heare the horrid oracles of death.

Th' infernall gods ore master'd by their power,

Or else perswaded by some piety

Which pleases them, deny these witches nothing

Which they request, the soules of those dead men

Are forc'd t' obey their charmings, and returne

Backe to their ancient prisons, to reueale

To these dire haggs the secrecies of fate

And things to come.

Cre.

Ile follow them Ianthus,

And know what fortunes shall attend my reigne.

Ian.

Ah good my Lord vse not so bad away,

You haue at hand, a nobler meanes to know

The truth of all; the old Tiresias

Taught from the wisedome of the gods aboue,

Who by a magike more diuine and pure

Surueyes the course and influence of the starrs,

And in that glorious booke reads the euent

Of future things, rather repaire to him,

Let him prepare a sacrifice, and aske

The pleasure of the gods.

Cre.

Tut tut Ianthus,

Astrolog'is vncertaine, and the gods

In mystike riddles wrap their answers vp.

[Page]

But he that dares with confidence to goe

Enquire of deaths blacke oracles below

In plainest terms the certaine truth shall know.

Exeunt

2. Haggs.

1.

We come too late, nor can this field

To vs a speaking prophet yeild.

The carcasses, whose cold dead tongues

From whole, and yet vnperish'd lungs,

Twixt hell and vs should hold commerce,

And be the blacke interpreters

Of Stygian counsells to relate

The hid decrees of death and fate;

Those carcasses I say are growne

Corrupt, and rotten euery one,

Their marrow's lost, their moistur's gone,

Their Organs parched by the sunne,

That there the Ghost drawne vp from hells

Darke entrance, nought, but broken yells,

And dismall hizzings can afford,

Not one intelligible word.

2.

But from this field of slaughter I

Haue gather'd vp a treasury,

As dead mens limms wet in the raine,

Cold gelled tongues and parched braine,

The slime that on blacke knuckles lyes,

Shrunke sinnews, and congealed eyes,

Bitt from their fingers nailes ore growne,

And from young chinns pull'd springing downe.

[Page]

Flesh bit by Wolues I tooke away,

And robb'd the vultur of her prey.

Where Thebans funerall pyles had made,

I did the mourning fire inuade,

And there blacke raggs with ashes fill'd,

And coales on which their fat distill'd,

I gather'd vp, and tooke from thence

Halfe-burnt bones, and Frankincense,

And snatch'd the fatall kindling brand

From out the weeping parents hand.

1

Once more lett's trott the fields about

To finde a fresher carcasse out.

And speake a charme that may affright

All pious loue from hence to night,

Lest we by funerall rites do loose

What Creons cruelty bestowes.

The 3 Hagge with a carcasse.

3

By Creons trembling watch I bore

This new slaine carcasse, but before

I brought him thence, I grip'd him round.

The filletts of his lungs are sound.

His vitalls all are strong and whole

To entertaine the wretched soule,

Whom forced furies must affright

Backe from hell to vs to night.

Enter Creon, Ianthus.

Cre.

You wise interpreters of fate, that looke

[Page]

With iust contempt downe on that small allowance

Of knowledge, which weake human breasts possesse.

Whose subtle eyes can penetrate the depth

Of darke Auernus secrets, and from thence

Enforce an answer from th' obeying finds.

Let me from your deepe skill be guided now

To know th' assurance of my future state:

It is a King that craues your aide, a King

Whose power has giu'n your art this furtherance,

By my command these carcasses haue lyen

Vnburled heere for you to practise on.

If Creon then deserue it at your hands,

Resolue me of my fate.

3.

You haue your wish.

This carcasse shall relate it; do not feare

To heare him speake: what herbs haue you prepar'd?

1.

I heere haue gather'd, all in one,

The poisonous gelly of the moone,

Mixt with sulphur of the night,

Libbards bane, and Aconite,

Dew gather'd, ere the morne arose,

From night-shade, henbane, Cypresse boughs.

'Mongst liuing creatures I haue sought,

And from each banefull brood haue brought

What ere could aide to our worke giue,

Skinns stript from horned snakes aliue,

The Lynxes bowells, blood of froggs,

The Schreichowles eggs, the foame of Doggs,

The wings of Batts, with Dragons eyes,

The Crowes blacke head, the stone that lyes

In Eagles nests, and pebbles round,

[Page]

That when the Ocean ebbs are found:

3.

Enough; but I to adde to these so knowne

And vulgar helps of our great art, haue gone,

And found such simples, whose concealed aide

No witch ere vs'd, or trembling god obey'd.

Thessaliaes valleys, Colchos famed shore,

Nor Libyan squallid sands with Gorgont gore

Bedw'd and sprinkled, nere produced iuice

That could so much enthrall the deityes.

When first I pluck'd them in yon gloomy vale

The furies shreik'd, and Hecate grew pale,

As loath to haue (in that abhorred ground)

The power of simples, and their weakenesse found.

2.

Then let vs now employ their powerfull helpe.

What place doe we designe for our blacke worke?

1.

There is within Cithaerons hollow side

A darke, and squallid caue, where day nere peep'd,

Nor euer light, but light by magike made

Shot through that dismall aire; pale mouldy filth

Bred there by drery night orespredds the place.

The mouth of Taenarus, that balefull bound

Twixt heauen and hell, appears not halfe so blacke.

To this sad caueth' accustom'd fiends ascend,

And thinke themselues still in their proper place.

But Ghosts, that newly past Auernus lake,

Shun the ascent, and though by vs inuok'd,

Tremble to enter to that place vnknowne,

And finde a hell more horrid then their owne.

2.

Then thither let vs beare this carcasse hence.

3.

No, no, we scorne the helps of that darke place;

[Page]

Nor is it honour to our art to finde,

But make a darknesse fit to serue our ends.

We that can forcea Magike light to glide

Through closest vaults, can force in spite of day

A mist of night to rise, which all the rayes

Ofburning Phoebus shall want power to scatter.

Oh would it were not night, but that the sunne

Rode in his height of strength; how proudly then

Might we performe our rites, and make it knowne,

We vse not natures darknesse but our owne.

1.

Lett's goe no further then; this place shall serue.

3.

3. Apply your ointments to the body, whilest I

Prepare, and speake a charme shall quickly call

Th' affrighted soule backe to his mansion.

Cre.

My ioynts beginne to tremble, and I feare

As much the meanes of knowledge, as th' euent

Of what I came to know.

Ian.

How full of blacke

And balefull horrour is this art of theirs?

Would I were well from hence; let me hereafter.

Rather remaine in endlesse ignorance

Then purchase knowledge by such meanes as these.

3.

Sad King of night, whose balefull Monarchy

The still repaired ruines of mankinde

Through euery age encrease; that greiu'st alone

To see the heauenly gods for euer free

From death's assaults, and thy subiection.

Old formlesse Chaos, thou that would'st deface

Natures whole beauty, quite disioint her fabrike,

And swallow vp in darke confusion

[Page]

Ten thousand worlds; thou squallid ferriman

Of still Auernus; thou three-headed porter;

You snake-hair'd sisters, punishers of guilt,

As you would gaine our aid, or feare our threats,

Whip back againeinto this vpper world

That new-fled soule, which did of late inhabite

This pale and ghastly seate, but if in vaine

On you I call, thou wretched wandering Ghost,

Not yet transported ore the burning streame,

But doom'd to exile for an hundred yeares,

If true rewards can tempt thee, once againe

Enter thy ancient prison, and in lieu

Of that shore pennance, I will make thee free

(Releasing all thy tedious banishment)

Of faire Elisium; with such powerfull rites

Ile giue thee buryall, as no Magicke spells,

Nor incantations shall for euer call

Thee bakce, nor trouble thine eternall rest.

Relate to Creon King of Thebes the fate

That shall attend his reigne.

Ian.

The carkasse stirrs.

Cre.

The face retaines pale death; yet seemes to liue.

The carcasse speakes.

Thy death is neare; yet ere thou dy

A great and strange calamity

Shall seize thy house, and thou in woe

Shalt thinke the fatall sisters slow

In giuing death, desiring then

Thy reignes short date had shorter beene;

Yet thou at last in death shalt haue

[Page]

(Though thou denid'st it vs) a graue.

fals.

Cre.

Shame on your damned arts; it does not ly

Within the power of fate to worke this mischeife.

Ian.

Beleeue it not, my Lord; lett's quit the place,

And from the wise Tiresias seeke aduise,

Exeunt.

Aemon, Dircus.

Aem.

Dircus, shee's gone, and I am worse then dead,

Oh would the villaines armes had had the power

To haue dispatch'd me quickly.

Dir.

Good my Lord,

Take fairer hopes, and liue; cast not away

The Kingdomes ioy; what cruelty can touch

So sweet a vertue as Antigone?

Retire with me into yon little house;

Ile there binde vp your wounds; you bleede too fast,

And needes must faint before you reach the walls.

The wounds I tooke are scratches.

Aem.

Honest Dircus,

What care can ere my body haue without

The presence of my soule?

Dir.

Delay not Sir.

Their goodnesse will protect them: what other Lady

Was that with her?

Aem.

It seemes it was Argia

Dead Polynices wife, Adrastus daughter,

Or else some grace or goddesse in that shape

Came to consort with good Antigone.

Dir.

Wandering about the fields to finde out you,

I met with witches, impious haggs, that came

As I suppose, for execrable ends

[Page]

There to abuse the bodies of the dead.

Oh partiall fates, oh too iniurious night,

Can these escape, when piety must suffer?

Aem.

A saintnesse seizes me, I prithee Dircus

Let me haue speedy newes.

Dir.

You shall my Lord.

When I haue drest you, Ile to court, and thence

Bring you a true and swift intelligence.

Exeunt.

Chorus Argiuarum, Deiphile.

Cho.

By what new wayes of griefe shall we

Our widow'd losses signifie?

What strange expression can become

A woe so strangely burdensome?

No howles, no shreikes, no voice of woe,

Not such as widow'd turtles shew,

Nor such as Philomel, when shee

High seated on a poplar tree,

Sends sweet sad notes through th' aire of night,

Wailing the husbandman's despite,

That reau'd her of her dearest nest.

Our losse cannot be so exprest.

No, nor by actions, such as are

The rending of disheuel'd haire,

Or beating of our breasts; these all

No more then death and funerall

Can shew; but in our husbands we

Receiue a greater iniury

[Page]

Then death had done; the common rite

Of funerall barr'd in despite.

Deiph.

Cease widowes longer in that straine

To waile, or 'gainst the fates complaine

For funerall rites; but vnderstand

Great Theseus, whose victorious hand

In conquests neuer yet has faild,

Is he, with whom we haue preuail'd

For aide; and thinke what action

He vndertakes, already done.

He will reuenge on Creon's head

The wrongs that we haue suffered.

Our deare Lords Ghosts shall righted be.

Then ioine your voyces all [...] me,

And in triumphant songs let vs

Renowne the noble Theseus.

Cho.

Theseus is he, whose warrelike hand

Defends mankinde in euery land

No lesse by tyrants fear'd and knowne

Then was the faire Alcmenaes sonne.

Twas he, whose iust reuenging steele

Subdu'd, and made dire Schinis feele

The selfe-fame torture in his death

By which he tooke from others breath,

When trees together bowed were,

And parted thence againe, did teare

Poore wretches, but by Theseus he

Was forc'd to tast that Tragedy.

Deip.

Procrustes that inhuman thiefe

(Monster of nature past beliefe)

[Page]

That made all passengers, whom he

Surpris'd within the woods, to bee

By an vnheard of cruell sport

Stretch'd longer out, or else cut short,

To fit their stature to his bed,

By Theseus hand was conquered,

And doomed then himselfe to dy

By the same kinde of cruelty.

Cho.

'Twas he alone that did set free

Athens from that sad slauery

Which Minos fury, for the losse

Of his belou'd Androgeos,

Had brought them to; when w ith clew

He scap'd the Labyrin [...], and slew

Fierce Minotaurus, that had beene

The monstrous issue of the Queene

Pasiphae, Whom vnnaturall

Prodigious lust had made to fall

Before a Bull; the monster held

Both shapes, and her foule guilt reueal'd.

Deiph.

Against a farre worse monster now

The noble Theseus armes to goe,

Inhumane Creon, that denyes

To worthiest soules due obsequyes,

And, what those monsters would not doe,

Does after death his hate pursue.

Cho.

Oh let that still victorious sword

Be now as prosperous, and afford

To wicked Creon the iust meede

That is deseru'd for such a deede.

[Page]

But 'tis against all holy lawes

To doubt successe in such a cause.

Actus Quartus.

Aephytus, Creon, Dircus, Antigone, Argia.

Aeph.

PRince Polynices body is enterr'd

By these two Ladyes, whom I apprehende

Iust as the deede was done; nor did themselues

Deny the fact.

Cre.

One I suspected still,

And I am glad I haue her, what's the other?

Arg.

The wofull widow of that wronged Prince

Who stay'd behinde my countreymen, to doe

Those rites, which loue, and piety requir'd

To my dead Lord; if that be iudg'd a crime

Tis such a crime as I professe, and boast.

Cre.

Are you Adrastus daughter then?

Arg.

The sam [...] ▪

Cre.

You are our prisoner now, take her, Ianthus,

Into your custody: this falls out fittly,

The ransome of this Princesse will come well

To fill our now-exhausted treasury.

But thou a Theban borne, bound to obey

Our crowne and lawes, what fury moou'd thy brea [...]

(Disloyall maide) to scorne our edict so?

Anti.

No other fury then the loue of vertue,

And reuerence of the gods, moou'd me to this.

Which wer't to doe againe, not all the power

Of hell, and tyrants should affright me from it.

[Page]Cre.

Has guilt embolden'd thee? is this th' excuse

Thou mak'st to me?

Ant.

Creon, Let impious acts

Seeke for excuses; I nor can, nor will

So wronge the cause of heauen and piety,

As once to pleade a fond excuse for that▪

Which is my merit, for that act I say

Which by direction from the gods themselues

I haue perform'd.

Cre.

Is disobedience merit?

Or do the gods command subiects to breake

The lawes of Princes?

Ant.

Yes, their wicked lawes,

Which thwart the will of heauen, the rule of nature,

And those pure principles, which human breasts

Did at their first originall deriue

From that Celestiall essence: Such a law

Was this which I haue broke, in giuinge rites

Of funerall to Polynices hearse,

My dearest brother, this disobedience

Thy seruants (durst they speake) would iustifie;

But forreine nations, and all future times

In spite of tirants threatnings shall commend

What I haue done, and though I dy for this

Vniustly now, yet the infernall iudges,

Whose sentence no mortality can scape,

But must to all eternity sustaine,

Shall from their iust vnpartiall vrnes bestow

Endlesse rewards beyond my sufferings farre.

Cre.

To those infernall iudges shalt thou goe,

And thanke my charitable doome, that sends

[Page]

Thy soule to such great happinesse, if thou

Esteeme it happinesse, and doe not feare

What thou wouldst seeme to wish.

Anti.

No, tyrant, no;

Death cannot proue a punishment to me,

Whose life was nought but sorrow; free'd from this

Vnhappy world, in t'other I shall come

Most wish'd, and welcome to my fathers sight,

And that deare brother, for whose sake I dy.

Creo.

Thou shalt be banish'd from the light of day,

Nor then shalt thou immediately haue power

To see that other world thou so desir'st.

Ianthus, till our farther pleasur's knowne

Guard safe Argiaes person; Aephytus;

See present execution done vpon

Antigone; without the city walls

There is a new digg'd tombe, where neuer yet

Lay any funerall; in that enclose

Antigone aliue, and barre it fast

As thou entend'st to liue, there let her pray

To those infernall gods shee so adores,

To keep her there, or take her quickly thence.

Exit Cre.

Dir.

Oh black accursed doome; oh my sad fate,

That must report this newes to noble Aemon,

And with that breath destroy the best of men.

Exit Dir:

Argi.

Furyes haue left their darke abodes, to dwell

In human shapes on earth; there could not else

Liue such a monster, one so opposite

To heauen and goodnesse, as curs'd Creon is.

Ah dearest, dearest sister, did the fates

[Page]

Differre so long our wisht acquaintance heere

To make vs meete so wretchedly at last?

Anti.

Weepe not deare sister; your calamity

Adds to my sufferings more: why were not all

The miseries of Cadmus wofull house

Confin'd within our selues, and bounded here

In fatall Thebes? why spread they so, to make

The best of soules partaker? happy else,

And safe for euer had your vertue liu'd

Admir'd in wealthy Argos, had you nere

Nere knowne the sad affinity of Thebes.

Arg.

Why did the tyrant thus diuide our sufferings?

The tombe, where thou art clos'd, had beene to me

More pleasing then a palace.

Anti.

Heauen forefend;

May the iust gods hereafter recompence

Argiaes vertue with a happyer loue

Then Polynices was, and happier friends

Then Thebes can giue, doe not lament for me,

Not feare the torments of my lingring death.

I am prouided of a remedy

That shall delude the cruelty of Creon.

Farewell my dearest Aemon, whose lou'd presence

More then the sight of day afflicts my soule

To loose so soone, farewell where ere thou art,

Till in the other world we meete againe.

Exeunt.

Aemon.

Aeem.

No newes of comfort, or discomfort yet?

[Page]

Forgiue me faithfull Dircus, if my soule

My loue-sicke soule vniustly doe accuse

Thy diligent care, and thinke thee slacke; my heart

Till thy returne is stretch'd vpon the wracke,

A racke of torturing thoughts, more painefull farre

Then tyranny could wish, or foes inuent

To punish foes, dost thou delay, because

The newes thou bring'st is ill? if my faire loue

Be dead, or doom'd to death, why doo'st thou keepe

My soule from her Celestiall company?

If all be well—but oh presumptous soule

Checke that too happy thought againe; I know

My fathers nature is vnmoouable

In all resolues, and this bound by an oath

So deepe, so solemne, and inuiolable

As ere't be broke will break this heart of mine.

Enter Dircus

See here he comes, speake man, what newes? Ay me,

Thy very lookes haue blasted me before

Thy tongue can be their sad interpreter.

No newes but black could force a souldiers teares.

Antigone is dead.

Dir.

Not dead, my Lord,

But liues among the dead.

Aem.

How man? Expound

This Aenigmatike sorrow.

Dir.

In a tombe,

Where neuer more she shall behold the day

Nor Phoebus splendour, by the Kings command,

Is faire Antigone enclos'd aliue—

[Page]

To famish there and dy.

Aem.

Enough, enough.

Shut vp aliue to starue, oh horrid doome!

As if that death alone, though nere so gentle,

Had not beene punishment enough for her

For such a cause as that; but yet this sentence

Giues respite to her death, and leaues a way

To our preuention; I must spend no time

In thinking now; all action is requir'd.

Thus it must be; be speedy faithfull friend,

Runne to my mother, and with all the vowes,

And vehement protestations that thou can'st

From me assure her, if Antigone

Be not releast in time, it shall not ly

In all the power of earth to saue my life.

Her loue I feare not, though my father now

Haue cast his frowne vpon me, to this place

Returne againe with all thy speed, whilest I

Deuise some other meanes if that should faile.

Dir.

Feare not my care, my Lord, but let me craue

(By your owne worth I begge it, and that fauour

Which you were euer pleased to reflect

On my poore seruices) till I returne,

Attempt no other course, I will be speedy,

And if perswasions of the queene doe faile;

Wee'll finde a way to saue the princesse life,

But tis a desperate way, and must be vs'd

The last of all.

AEm.

Oh comfortable Dircus,

Do but assure me that, and I shall owe

More then my life, and all my fortunes to thee

Vpon mine honour, Ile not stirre from hence

[Page]

Till thou returne, nor stay thee now t'enquire

More of the plot.

Dir.

I will out-fly the winde.

Exit.

Aem.

Clos'd vp aliue within a tombe to starue!

Oh horrid cruelty, I would I could

Forget whose crime it were, that my free hate

Might not be check'd by duty to a father.

Should I approue his action, 'twere a sinne

So great 'gainst vertue, as no time could pardon;

Should I condemne it, I must then abhorre

Th' offendor, and that piety forbidds.

Oh why should piety, and vertue striue?

That piety, which I so much admir'd

In faire Antigone, my selfe transgresse

In louing her crosse to my fathers will.

Yet in obeying him I must approoue

Her piety, or else condemne mine owne.

What thoughts will reigne in this diuided brest.

Till Dircus doe returne? but courage heart,

More strong is he, that can his doubts deferre

Then he that knowne calamities does beare.

Exit.

Chorus of old men.

1:

Oh smooth thy frowne at last, great queene of heauen,

Let not vnhappy Thebes for euer feele

The dire effects of thy too mindefull wrath:

What could the wretched Semeles offence,

Or poore Alemenas errour more deserue,

Then they themselues haue suffer'd from thy hand?

Or if succeeding branches needes must bleede

[Page]

For parents faults, before a goddesse wrath

Can be appeas'd, could not Actaeons wounds

Athamas maddnesse, Inoes wofull death,

Nor pitti'd Oedipus his fall suffice?

2.

Could not the actions of great Hercules,

Nor Bacchus glorious deedes, which all mankinde

For euer shall renowne, weigh downe the crimes

Of their vnhappy mothers, and such crimes,

As only Ioues resistlesse power could force?

3.

A feircer warre by farre now threatens Thebes

Then that which old Adrastus with the aide

Of all his rash confederates could make.

The mighty Theseus, whose all-conquering hand

No Kingdome yet with safety could withstand,

Arm'd with a cause, in which the prayers and wish

Of nations ioyne, is marching towards vs.

1.

In vaine, alas, did we expect an end

Of this dire warre, when both the princes dy'd,

When th' Argines fled, must out owne victory

Become our greife? and draw vpon vs now

A greater ruine then our foile had done?

2.

It must, it must, since Creons cruelty,

Most vnexpected, barbarous cruelty

Will haue it so, oh friend, I could belieue,

Were not the noble Aemon Creons sonne,

And heire apparent to our Diadem,

We had beene happyer farre t' haue beene subdu'd

Then brought by victory to such obedience.

3

True friend; there's all out trust, the gods in nought

But that braue Princes life, haue left vs hope

[Page]

Of any future fau [...]r to redresse

The miseries, which we so long haue felt.

But for this imminent, nay present danger

What were we best to doe?

1.

Aduise the King

Rather to change his purpose, then expose

His weakened Kingdome to great Theseus fury.

Though he should prooue neuer so obstinate:

Better that any one for good aduice

Should suffer from his fury, then the land

In generall should smart.

2.

You counsell well,

But who should be the man?

3.

There's none so fit

As old Tiresias, that most holy man,

Taught from the gods aboue, whose words by all

Our Theban Princes haue beene long esteem'd

As oracles, him Creon will obey.

1.

Then thither let vs, and with him aduise

How to redresse our present miseries.

Actus Quintus.

Euridice, Dircus.

THat was my feare before, I thought my sonne

Too farre in loue to beare, with patience,

His Ladies death, and therefore did entreat

The King with teares, and sighs, that would haue moou'd

A rocke of flint, but hee more hard then rocks,

Deafer then Northerne winds, with rage repuls'd

[Page]

My oft repeated suite, and now, ay [...]e,

What most I fear'd is proou'd, my sonne will dy;

For he has vow'd neuer to pardon her.

Dir.

Must I returne the Prince this killing newes?

Eur.

No gentle Dircus, stay a little while,

Twill not be long before the King returne,

Ile mooue him once againe.

Dir.

Your highnesse pardon,

Not for the world would I delay the time—

Vpon vncertainties; I feare I haue

Already stay'd too long. My quicke returne

Is th' only meanes to keepe the prince aliue.

Please it your highnesse then when I am gone

To mooue the King, and feare not, gratious madam,

The Princes life a while how ere.

Exit Dircus.

Eur.

Farewell,

True faithfull Dircus, all the gods assist

Thy good entents, and blesse thy loyalty.

Enter Creon.

Cre.

What, weeping still?

Eur.

Would I could weepe my selfe

Like Niobe to marble, and become

A wofull tombe to Aemon, whom my womabe

With fates disastrous brought into the world,

My vertuous Aemon,

Cre.

Why, is Aemon dead?

Eur.

Why doe you aske, that meane to murder him?

Cre.

How? murder him?

Eur.

Yes in Antigone

His most inseparable loue.

Cre.

Must then

Th'audacious giglot, liue vnpunished,

To braue a King?

[Page]Eur.

Were kings ordain'd to kill

Vertues true seruants, and controll her lawes?

Enter Tiresias, Chorus senum.

Tir.

Where is the king?

Cre.

Hee's heere. What mischiefe now

Com'st thou to vtter, neuer from thy tongue

Flow'd any good to me.

Tir.

A guilty man

Was neuer pleas'd with truth, but heare me,

Creon.

I come to thee sent from the wrathfull gods

To let thee know thy guilt, and punishment.

Great plagues from heauen, if Tiresias

Truly diuine, are threaten'd'gainst thy house.

When I for thee vnthankefull man prepar'd

A sacrifice within, the open'd beast

No signes but sad and fatall did afford.

None but th' infernall gods deign'd to appeare.

The blood was blacke, the burning entrailes gaue

No flame at all, but darkely did consume,

Mouldring away to ashes, and with blacke

Vnsauoury smoake clouded the fearefull ayre.

Vnto our augury no birds at all

But sad, and balefull birds of night appear'd.

Nor to our orizons would th'inuoked gods

Vouchsafe an answer, but in signes alone

Declar'd their wrath. The cause of these their threats

Against thy house is for thy cruelty

To good Antigone, and if she dy

These plagues will surely fall.

Eur.

Can we auoide them.

By sparing her?

Tir.

The gods aboue relent

[Page]

At humane penitence, and heare their prayers,

Nor like the fiends are they inexorable.

Eur.

No longer,

Creon,

shalt thou now deny me

Since heauen is ioyn'd with my petition.

Tir.

You are not constant in persisting thus,

But obstinate.

Eur.

Now I renew my suite.

Cho.

In which we bend our knnes, release, O king,

For Thebes, for Aemons sake, that vertuous maide,

And to preuent a feirce and cruell warre,

Vouchsafe to grant our suite, and giue vs leaue

To bury those dead Graecians in the field.

Cre.

No more of them; that last must not be granted,

For our command is past too farre already,

And must be iustifi'd, not changed now.

But for the life of that Antigone,

Although it cannot suite well with our iustice

To pardon her rebellious stubbornnesse,

Yet shee is thine Eurydice, to thee

Do we referre her wholly; take this ring,

And absolute power to dispose of her,

Either to pardon, or to punishment.

Eur.

The gods reward thee for't; Ile goe my selfe

And bring her out with speede from that sad place;

Heauen grant that griefe haue not already kill'd her.

Nuntius, Creon.

Nun.

To armes, my Lord, if any armes so soone

Can rescue Thebes from quicke destruction.

The mighty Theseus threatens you at hand.

[Page]Creon.

Why let him come: Should I esteeme the name

Of Thesous such a buggebeare it should fright

Me from my constant resolution?

Haue our late conquests, haue the ouerthrowes

Of Argor and Mycenae taught the world

Nothing of vs? looke on you purple fields

With slaughter dy'd, and learne what Thebes can doe,

Where Capanaeus, and stout Tydeus

Parthenopaeus and Hippomedon

Ly weltring in their gores, and should we then

So tremble at the threates of Theseus?

No power must daunt me; 'tis not Kingly now

Vpon constraint to change my rough decree.

Though I relented now, though my soft breast

Were moou'd with piety, yet thought of honour

Would conquer that, as now it conquers feare,

The feare of Theseus hand; nor haue I left

A place for wisedome now; it comes too late;

I must preuent or meete my instant fate.

Dircus Aemon.

Dir.

Yonder's the tombe, my Lord, which though it seeme

Too hard, and solid for our strength to force,

I know a place will open presently.

Aem.

Then let vs breake this wealthy Cabinet,

And take from thence a iewell, which the ransome

Of all the Kings on earth would be a price

To poore to purchase: Knew'st thou, happy caue,

Or knew the world what true vnualew'd wealth

Thy bare vnpolish'd bosome did containe,

[Page]

Thou would'st despise the richest temples rear'd

On Marble Columnes, and high-roof'd with gold;

To thee would men with adoration come

As to a place more sacred then the caue

That nourish'd Cretan Ioue, then Bacchus Nisa,

Or the Oetaean Mount, from whence in flames

The great Al [...]ides mounted to the sky.

But I forget my selfe, I first must know

Whether I liue or no; for in that caue,

Not hee [...]e does. Aemon breath. Antigone.

Anti.

Who calls Antigone? is it my Aemon?

Aem.

Dircus I liue; heardst thou that heauenly voice

Which has inspir'd a happyer life into me

Then my creation did. Lets loose no time

In this sweete businesse.

Dir.

Ile ope the tombe

Immediatly, my Lord.

Aem.

Sad Thebes adieu,

Ile finde some happyer countrey to conuey

My enuy'd treasure to. Possest of her

I shall be richer then the Theban crowne

Can make me; speake how fares my fairest loue;

Shall we be gone?

Ant.

I would, my dearest Aemon,

Begone with thee rather then liue; but fate

Too cruell, fate preuents it.

Aem.

How? what fate

Can let our iourney, if thy loue consent?

Anti.

I loue thee, Aemon, better then my life,

And neuer truly wish'd to liue till now,

But now I cannot liue.

Aem.

Oh doe not mocke

My ioyes, Antigone, or if thou doest not,

[Page]

Tell me what sad disaster can befall.

Anti.

That sad disaster is befall'n already;

Fearing the paines that such a lingring death

Might bring vpon me, I haue tane already

A gentle poison downe, which long before

'Gainst some such dire occasion I prepar'd,

I feele it worke; my vitall spirits faile.

My dearest loue farewell. Liue long and happy;

Let fate hereafter recompence to thee

What ere her cruelty 'gainst me has wrought.

Aem.

No fate can make me happy, I am lost

Beyond her cure.

Dir.

What end of tragedyes

Can wofull Thebes for euer hope to see

After this sorrow. Oh I more then feare

The Princes fury;

Aem.

Her white soule is fled.

What vnsubstantiall bubbles are the best

Of humane ioyes? how from the top of all

My hopes and comforts in one fatall minute

Has enuious fortune throwne me downe againe

Into the depth of misery, and woe.

Oh fortune how extreme thou art in all

Thy fauours and thy frownes!

Dir.

Most noble prince,

Collect that strength of man, which all the world

Expects from you, and arme your selfe to beare

With fitting patience this calamity.

The passiue fortitude is great and noble

As is the actiue.

Aem.

Strike that string no more,

Doe not in vaine torment a desperate man

[Page]

With thy dull counsell: Tis as possible

Thou should'st perswade a dead man to arise

After his soule is fled, as me to liue.

Now shee is dead, I doe coniure thee Dircus

By all the loue thou bearst me, by that faith

Which I haue euer found and priz'd in thee,

To leaue me heere.

Dir.

My Lord, I will obey;

And thus I take my leaue.

Dyes.

Aem.

Too cruell Dircus.

Was I not miserable enough before,

But thou must loade my sufferings with thy death?

What cause hadd'st thou to dy? thou hast not lost

A loue, why should my losse extend so farre

As to the ruine of so braue a friend?

Thy death has iniur'd faire Antigone,

And made a strange Diuision in my griefe.

For all the sorrow which this breast could hold,

Was due to her before. I must encroach

Vpon her right in spending teares for thee.

My breast's too narrow for so great a griefe,

And must be quickly open'd. Thou pure soule

Of my Antigone, which still suruiu'st,

Though this faire palace be demolish'd quite

By deaths vngentle hand, thou heauenly substance,

True obiect of a chast, and spotlesse loue,

Thy Aemon comes; and from these bonds of nature

Flyes forth to meete thee in the other world,

To wedd thee there; to finish there the rites

Of long-cross'd loue, and tast eternall sweetes.

Dyes.

[Page]Ianthus, Aephytus, Eurydice.

Ian.

Oh horrid spectacle! see Aephytus,

The Prince, Antigone, and Dircus dead.

Aeph.

All dead?

Eur.

Ay me.

Ian.

Looke to the Queene, she sownes

Aephy.

Alas, tis more then so; cold death has seiz'd her

I feare, beyond recouery, Lett's in,

And certifie the King, who now may see.

The dire effects of his rash cruelty.

Theseus, Chorus Thebanorum.

The.

Our warre's already ended, and the death

Of sauage Creon, whose dire soule is fled

To pacifie the Argiues wandring ghosts,

Hath satisfi'd our iustice, heere we sheath

Our sword againe, and free your towne from feares.

And now enterre with fitting obsequies

The Carcasses of all your slauter'd foes.

Let cruell Creon too, though he at all

Deserue it not, haue rites of funerall.

Cre.

Those pious rites will we performe with ioy,

And thankes to mighty Theseus, may the Gods.

Assist thee euer; and great Hercules

Beholding thy braue actions from the sky

Reioyce, and not disdaine at all to be

Esteem'd thy aequall by posterity.

The.

Send backe Argia to her father's court

[Page]

With faire attendance; and tis left to you

To place the Theban scepter where tis due.

Cho.

Thebes humbly bowes to mighty Theseus,

And layes her crowne and seepter at his feete.

The.

No; still let Thebes be gouern'd by her owne;

T'was not our warres intention to enthrall

Your land, but free it from a tyrants yoake;

And to preserue the conquer'd, not destroy them.

We drew the sword of iustice, not of conquest,

Ambitiously to spread our Kingdomes bounds,

But to auenge the lawes of nature broke;

This act being done, Theseus is peace againe.

Souldiers march on to Athens. Thebes adieu.

Now let mankinde enioy a happy peace;

Oh let no monsters breede on earth, to glut

Themselues with human slaughter, let no theeues

Infest the woods; no tyrants staine the cities

With blood of innocents? but if such monsters

Must needes be bred to plague the wretched earth,

'Gainst nature, and her holy lawes to striue,

Let them appeare while Theseus is aliue.

FINIS.

§

§

[Page]

LONDON, Printed by Thomas Harper, for Beniamin Fisber, and are to be sould at his shop, at the signe of the Talbot, without Aldersgate. 1631.

Information about this book

Title statement

The tragedy of Antigone, the Theban princesse. Written by T.M.

May, Thomas, 1595-1650.

Edition statement

1631

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2005-12 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A07329

ID [STC]

STC 17716

ID [STC]

ESTC S122116

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99857268

ID [PROQUEST]

99857268

ID [VID]

22963

Availability

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Early English Books Online Text Creation Partnership. This Phase I text is available for reuse, according to the terms of Creative Commons 0 1.0 Universal. The text can be copied, modified, distributed and performed, even for commercial purposes, all without asking permission.

Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A07329)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 22963)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 966:7)

Source

— The tragedy of Antigone, the Theban princesse. Written by T.M., May, Thomas, 1595-1650..

Extent

[80] p.

Printed by Thomas Harper, for Beniamin Fisher, and are to be sould at his shop, at the signe of the Talbot, without Aldersgate,. London :: 1631.. (Dedication signed: Tho. May.) (In verse.) (Signatures: A-E.) (The first leaf is blank except for an ornament.) (With a final colophon leaf; the last two leaves are blank.) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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