Seneca his tenne tragedies, translated into Englysh Tragedies. English Seneca, Lucius Annaeus, ca. 4 B.C.-65 A.D. 1581 Approx. 1043 KB of XML-encoded text transcribed from 225 1-bit group-IV TIFF page images. Text Creation Partnership, Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) : 2007-10 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1). A11909 STC 22221 ESTC S117108 99852323 99852323 17639

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Early English books online. (EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A11909) Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 17639) Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 397:4) Seneca his tenne tragedies, translated into Englysh Tragedies. English Seneca, Lucius Annaeus, ca. 4 B.C.-65 A.D. Heywood, Jasper, 1535-1598. Neville, Alexander, 1544-1614. Studley, John, 1545?-1590? T. N. (Thomas Nuce), d. 1617. Newton, Thomas, 1542?-1607. [4], 65, 64-217, [1] leaves In Fleetstreete neere vnto Saincte Dunstans church by Thomas Marsh, Imprinted at London : 1581. Editor's dedication signed: Thomas Newton. In verse. A reprinting of the following translations previously published separately: "Hercules furens", "Thyestes", and "Troas" by Jasper Heywood; "Œedipus" by Alexander Neville (a revised version); "Medea" and "Agamemnon" by John Studley; and "Octavia" (not by Seneca) by Thomas Nuce. Prints for the first time "Hippolytus" and "Hercules Oetæus" translated by Studley, and "Thebais" translated by Thomas Newton. The first leaf is blank except for signature-mark "A"; the last leaf is blank. Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.

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SENECA HIS TENNE TRAGEDIES, TRANSLATED INTO Englyſh.

Mercurij nutrices, horae.

IMPRINTED AT LONDON IN Fleetſtreete neere vnto Saincte Dunſtans church by Thomas Marſh. 1581

TO THE RIGHT VVORSHIPEVL, SIR THOMAS HENNEAGE KNIGHT, TREASVRER OF HER MAIESTIES CHAMBER: Thomas Newton wisheth all abundaunce of Felicitie, and Spirituall benedictions in Chriſte. *⁎*

YOV may think Sir, ſome want of diſcretion in mee, for thus boldly preſuminge to thrust into your handes theſe Tragedies of SENECA. From whych boldneſſe, the very Conſcience of myne own vnworthynes, might eaſely haue diſſuaded mee, had not certayne learned Gentlemen of good credite and worship thereunto perſuaded & animated mee. Aſſuring mee (where of I thought my ſelfe afore aſſured) that your VVorship (ſuch is your loue to learning, & the generoſity of your Heroicall mynde) would daygne not onely to diſpence with my temerity, but alſo take in worth my affectionate ſimplicity. And yet (all this notwithstandinge) well durst I not haue geuen the aduēture to approch your preſence, vpon trust of any ſingularity, that in this Booke hath vnſki fully dropped out of myne owne penne, but that I hoped the perfection of others artificiall workmāſhip, that haue trauayled herein aſwell as my ſelfe ſhould ſomewhat couer my nakednèſſe 〈◊〉 pùrchaſe my pardon. And hard were the dealing, if in payment of a good round gubbe of Gold of full wayght and poyſe, one poore peece ſomewhat clypped and lighter then his fellowes may not be foysted in amōg the reſt, and paſſe in pay for currant coigne. Theirs I know to be deliuered with ſinguler dexterity: myne, I confeſſe to be an vnflidge neſtling, vnhable to flye: an vnnatural abortion, and an vnperfect Embryon: neyther throughlye laboured at Aristophanes and Cleanthes candle, neither yet exactly waighed in Critolaus his preciſe ballaūce. Yet this dare I ſaye, I haue deliuered myne Authors meaning with as much perſpicuity, as ſo meane a Scholler, out of ſo meane a ſtoare, in ſo ſmal a time, and vpon ſo ſhort a warning was well able to performe. And whereas it is by ſome ſqueymiſh Areopagites ſurmyzed, that the readinge of theſe Tragedies, being enterlarded with many Phraſes and ſentēces, literally tending (at the firſt ſight) ſome time to the prayſe of Ambition, ſometyme to the mayntenaūce of cruelty, now and then to the approbation of incontinencie, and here and there to the ratification of tyranny, can not be digeſted without great daūger of infection: to omit all other reaſons, if it might pleaſe thē with no foreſtalled iudgmēt, to mark and conſider the circumſtaunces, why, where, & by what maner of perſons ſuch ſentences are pronoūced, they cānot in any equity otherwiſe chooſe, but find good cauſe ynough to leade thē to a more fauourable and milde reſolutiō. For it may not at any hād be thought and deemed the direct meaning of SÈNECA himſelfe, whoſe whole wrytinges (penned with a peereleſſe ſublimity and loftineſſe of Style, are ſo farre from còuntenauncing Vice, that I doubt whether there bee any amonge all the Catalogue of Heathen wryters, that with more grauity of Philoſophicall ſentences, more waightynes of ſappy words, or greater authority of ſoūd matter beateth down ſinne, looſe lyfe, diſſolute dealinge, and vnbrydled ſenſuality: or that more ſenſibly, pithily, and bytingly layeth downe the guerdon of filthy luſt, cloaked diſsimulation & odious treachery: which is the dryft, wherunto he leueleth the whole yſſue of ech one of his Tragedies. Howſoeuer & whatſoeuer it be, your VVorships curteous acceptaūce shal eaſily counterpoyſe any of our imperfections. Vnto whoſe learned Cenſure, wee humbly ſubmit theſe the exerciſes of our bluſshing Muſes. The Lord God in mercy long preſerue you in health and dignity with daily encreaſe of many his gracious gyfts, already rychly abounding in you: to the propagation, and aduauncement of his truth (whereof yee are a zealous Profeſſor, to the honoure of her Maieſtye, to whom you are a moſt loyall ſeruitour, and to the generall benefite of your Countrey, whereof you are a rare and moſt worthy Ornament.

From Butley in Cheſſhyre the 24. of Aprill. 1581. Your Worſhippes moſt humble, Thomas Newton.
THE NAMES OF THE TRAGEDIES OF SENECA, AND by whom each of them was tranſlated. 1 Hercules Furens, 2 Thyeſtes, 6 Troas, By Iaſper Heywood. 1560. 5 Oedipus, By Alex. Neuile. 4 Hippolytus, 7 Medea, 8 Agamemnon, 10 Hercules Octaeus By Iohn Studley. 9 Octauia, By T. Nuce. 3 Thebais. By Thomas Newton.
The Argument of this Tragedy.

IVno the Wyfe and ſiſter of Iupiter, hating his baſtard bro de, cometh dovvne from heauen, complayning of all his iniuries done to her, deuiſing alſo by vvhat deſpight she may vexe his baſe Sonne Hercules. And hauing by experience proued, no toyles to be to hard for him, findeth the meanes to make his ovvne hand his ovvne vengeance. Hercules therefore returning novv from Hell (from vvhence he vvas enioyned to fet Cerberus) and finding that the Tyrant Lycus had inuaded his coūtrey, deſtroieth the tyrant. For the vvhich victory as hee ſacrificeth to his Goddeſſe, vvrathfull Iuno ſtrikes him into a ſodayne frenſy: Wherevvith he beinge ſore vexed, thynking to ſlea the Children and Wyfe of Lycus, in ſteede of them, killeth his ovvne Wyfe and Children in his madnes. This done hee ſleapeth. Iuno reſtoreth to him agayne his Wits. He being vvakt, ſeing his Wyfe and Children ſlayne by his ovvne hand, at laſt alſo vvould kill himſelfe.

THE SPEAKERS Iuno. Chorus. Megara. Amphitrion. Lycus. Hercules. Theſeus.
THE FIRST ACTE. Iuno alone. I Syſter of the Thunderer, (for now that name alone Remaynes to me) Ioue euermore as though deuorſt and gone, And temples of the higheſt ayre as wydowe ſhunned haue, And beaten out of ſkyes aboue the place to Harlots gaue. I muſt go dwell beneath on ground, for Whoores do hold the ſky. From hence the Beare in parte aboue of ycy peale full hy, A haughty ſtarre the greekiſh ſhyps by Seas doth gurde about: From this way, whence at ſpring time warme the day is loaſed out, Euro aes bearer through the waues of Tyria ſhyues full bright. From thence, their ſtormy fearefull flocke to Ships, and ſeas affright, The wandring daughters here and there of Atlas vpward ſway. With ſtaring buſh of hayre from hens Orion Gods doth fray: And Perſeus eke his glitteryng ſtarres of golden gloſſe hath here. From hence the twynnes of Tyndars ſtocke do ſhine, a ſigne full clere: And at whoſe byrth firſt ſtode the grounde that erſt went to and fro. Nor onely Bacchus now himſelfe, or Bacchus mother lo, Haue clymd to Gods: leaſt any parte ſhould from rebuke be free, The ſkies the Gnoſſian ſtrumpets crownes do beare in ſpight of mee. But I of old cōtemptes complayne: me, one dire, fierce, and ſhrewde Thebana land with wicked broode of Ioues baſe daughters ſtrewde, How oft hath it a ſtepdame made? though vp to heauen ſhould ryſe, The conqueryng drabbe Alcmena now, and hold my place in ſkyes, And eke her ſonne to promiſd ſtarres obtayne the worthy way, At byrth of whom the ſtaying worlde ſo long deferd the day, And Phoebus ſlow frome morning ſea began to gliſter bright, Commaunded long in th' Ocean waues to hyde his drowned lyght. Yet ſhall my hates not leaue them ſo, a wrathful kindled rage His mynd in madnes ſhall ſtirre vp, and yre that may not ſwage Shall euermore (all peace layd downe) wage warres eternally. What warres? what euer hideous thinge the earth his ennemy Begets, or what ſoeuer ſea or ayre hath brought to ſyght Both dredfull, dire, and peſtilent, of cruel fierceſt might, T'is tierd and tam'd: he paſſeth all, and name by ills doth rayſe, And all my wrath he doth inioy, and to his greater prayſe He turnes my hates: whyle tedious toyles to much I him beheſt, He proues what father him begot: both thence where light oppreſt Hath ſea, and where it ſhowde agayne, where Titan day doth trayne, And with his brand approaching nere doth dye thoſe Aethiops twaine, His ſtrengh vntamde is honoured: and God eche where is hee Now calde in worlde, and now more •• ore of monſters want to mee, And laboure leſſe to Hercles is t'acompliſh all my will, Then me to bydde: at eaſe he doth myne imperies fulfyl. What cruel heſtes of tyrante now ſo fyerce a yong man may Preuayle to hurt? for lo he beares for weapons now awaye What once he fearde, and put to flight: he armed comes at ſyde With Lyon fyerce and Hydra both: nor land ſuffiſeth wyde, But broake he hath the threſhold loe of that infernall Ioue. And ſpoyls with him of conquerd king he drawes to Gods aboue. But thats but light, broke is the league of ſprites that there do dwell. I ſaw my ſelfe, I ſaw him lo (the night now gone, of hell And Ditis tamde) throw out abroade before his fathers ſight His broth •• s ſpoyles. Why drawes he not oppreſt and bound by might Hymſelfe in chaynes that equall thynges to Ioue by lot doth hold? And beare the rule of captiue hel, and way to Styxe vnfolde? Vp opened is from loweſt ghoſtes the backward way to ſkye, And ſacred ſecrets of dire death in open ſight do lye. But he (the dredful den of ſprites brake vp ful fierce and ſtout Euen ouer mee doth tryumph lo, and with proude hand about The foule blacke dogge by Grekiſh townes he leades frō hel away. When ſeene was vgly Cerberus I ſaw the fading day, And fearefull ſunne: euen me lykewyſe a trembling dread oppreſt, And looking on the fylthy neckes of conquerd monſtruous beaſt, I feared much myne owne beheſtes: but light things I complayne, For heauen I may be frayde, leſt he may get the higheſt rayne, That loweſt wonne, the ſceptors from his father wil he take, Nor hee to ſtarres (as Bacchus dyd) his way wil gently make: The way with ruine will he ſeeke, and hee in empty ſkyes Wil reygne alone with force diſplayd hys haughty hart doth ryſe, And he that heauen it ſelfe by force of his might gotted bee, It bearyng learnd: quite vnderneth the world his head ſet hee. Nor once his ſhoulders bowde the prayſe of ſuth a mighty as: And midſt of heauen on Hercles necke alone (loe) ſetled was. His necke vnwryde the ſtarres aboue and ſkyes did only ſtay: And me likewyſe oppreſſyng him, to Gods he ſeekes the way. Goe ire, goe on, and beate hym downe that great things doth inuent Match thou with him, and with thy handes now thou thy ſelfe him rent. Such hates why doſt thou meditate? let all wyld beaſtes now go: And weary Euriſtheus now be free from geeuing charges mo. The Tytans daryng once of Ioue to breake the impery Send out: let loaſe the denne abroade of mount of Sicilye. The Doricke land that with the turne of gyant quakes afrayd, Let it bring forth the dredful neckes of monſter vnder layd. Let yet the haughty moone about ſome other beaſtes beget, But theſe he ouercame. Seekes thou a match t'Alcides yet? Thers none, except hymſelfe: let him agaynſt himſelfe rebell. Let preſent be from bottome deepe vprayſd of loweſt hell Th'Eumenides, let flaming lockes of theyrs the fires out flinge, And furious hands beſtowe aboute the ſtroakes of vipers ſting. Go now ful prowde, and ſcale the ſkyes to ſ ates of gods make waye. Now muſt thy battels wages be ful cleere loe ſhynes the daye. Deſpyſe mans workes thinkſt thou fierce wight y hell and ſoules alow Thou haſt eſcapt? nay here I wil another hel thee ſhow. In deepe miſte hid I wil call vp from bottome low of hell Beyond the wayes of gylty ghoſtes debateful goddeſſe fell. Wheras the roaring dreadful den reſoundes with cryes about. From depeſt bond of Ditis raygne beneath I wil fet out, What ſo is left. Let hateful hurt now come in anger wood, And fierce impyety imbrew himſelfe with his owne bloud. And errour eke, and fury arm'd agaynſt it ſelfe to fight. This meane, this meane, let wrath of myne now vſe to ſhewe my might. Beginne ye ſeruantes now of hell: the feruent burning tree Of Pyne ſhake vp: and ſet with ſnakes her dreadful flocke to ſee. Let now Megaera bring to ſight, and with her mournful brand. For burning rage bring out of hell a huge and direful brand. Do this, require you vengeance due, and paynes of hel his ſpoyle, Strike through his breaſt, let fyercer flame, within his boſome boyle. Then which in Aetna fornace beates, ſo ſuriouſly to ſee. That mad of mind and witles may Alcides driuen bee With fury great through pearced quight, my ſelfe muſt firſt of all Be mad. Wherfore doth Iuuo yet not into raging fall? Mee, me, ye Furyes, ſyſters three throwne quite out of my wit Toſſe fyrſt, if any thing to do, I do endeuour yet For ſtepdame meete: let now my hates be turnd another way, Let him (returnd) his babes behold in ſafety I you pray. And ſtrong of hand come home, I haue now found the day at length. In which may greatly mee auayle the hated Hercles ſtrength. Both mee and eke hym ſelfe let him ſubdue and wiſh to die Returnd from hel, yea let it here be my commodity, That he of Ioue begotten is: here preſent wil I ſtand, And that his ſhaftes goe ſtreyght from how, I wil direct his hand, The mad mans weapons will I guide, euen Hercles fyghtyng, lo, At length Ile ayde. This gylt once done then leefull is that ſo His father may admit to ſaies thoſe gylty haades of his Chorus. THe fading ſtarres now ſhyne but ſeelde in ſighte In ſtipye ſkye, night ouercome with day Plucks in her. fyres, while ſpronge agayne is light. The day ſtarre drawes the clereſome beames theire waye. They cye ſigne of haughtye poale agayne, VVith ſeuen ſtarres markt, the Beares of Arcadye, Do call the light with ouerturned wayne. VVith marble horſe now drawne, hys waye to hye Doth Titan toppe of Oetha ouer ſpred The bushes bright that nowe with berryes bee Of Thebes ſtrewde, by daye do bluſhe full redde. And to returne doth Phabus ſyſter flee. Now labor harde beginnes, and euerye kynde Of cares it ſtyrres, the Shepehearde doth vnfolde: His flockes vnpende, do graſe their foode to fynde, And nippes the graſſe with hoary froſt full colde. At will doth play in open medow faire The Calfe whoſe brow did damme yet neuer teare, The empty Kyne their vdders doe repayre. And lyght with courſe vncertayne here and there, In graſſe full ſoft the wanton kidde hee flynges. In toppe of boughe doth ſitte with chaunting ſonge, And to the Sunne newe roſe to ſpreade her wynges, Beſtirres her ſelfe her mourneful neſtes amonge The Nightingall. and doth with byrdes aboute Confuſe reſound mith murmure mixedryfe To witnes day; his ſayles to wynde ſet out The ſhypman doth committe in doubt of lyfe. VVhyle gale oſwynde the ſlacke ſayles filles full ſtrayte, He leaning ouer hollow rocke doth lye, And either his begiled hookes doth bayte, Or els beholdes and feeles the pray from hye with paiſed hand. The trembling fish he feeles with line extent. This hope to them to whom of hurtles lyfe. Is quiet reſt, and with his owne content, And lytle, houſe, ſuch hope in fieldes is ryfe The troblous hopes with rolling whirlewynd great, And dredful feares their wayes in cityes keepe. He proude repayre to prince in regall ſeate, And hard court gates without the reſt of ſleepe Eſteemes, and endles happynes to hold Doth gather goods, for treaſure gaping more, And is ful pore amid his heaped gold. The peoples fauour him (aſtonied ſore) And commons more vnconſtant then the ſea, VVith blaſt of vayne renoume liftes vp full proude. He ſelling at the brawling barre his plea, Full wicked, ſets his yres and ſcoulding loud And woordes to ſale, a fewe hath knowne of all The careles reſt, who mindfull how doth flitte Swift age away, the tyme that neuer ſhall Returne agayne do holde: while fares permitte, At quiet liue: the lyfe full quickly glydes VVith haſtned courſe, and with the winged day The wheele is turnde of yere that hedlong ſlides, The ſiſters hard perfourme their taſkes alway, Nor may agayne vntwiſt the threede once ſponne. Yet mankind loe vnſure what way to take To meete the greedy deſtenyes dothronne And willingly wee ſeke the Stigian lake. To much Alcides thou with ſtomacke ſtoute The ſory ſprites of hell doſt haſt to ſee. VVith courſe prefixt the fares are brought aboute To none once warnd to come may reſpite bee To none to paſſe their once appointed day, The tombe all people calde by death doth hyde Let glory him by many landes awaye Diſplay, and fame throughout all cityes wyde Full babling praiſe, and euen with ſkye to ſtande Auaunce and ſtarres: let him in chariot bright Ful haughty goe: let me my natiue land In ſafe and ſecrete houſe keepe cloſe from ſight. To reſtful men hoare age by courſe doth fall, And low in place, yet ſafe and ſure doth lye, The poore and baſe eſtate of cottage ſmall: The prowder pompe of minde doth fall from hye. But ſad here comes with loſed lockes of heare Loe Megara with litle company, And ſtowe by age drawes Hercles father neare
THE SECOND ACTE. Megara. OGuider great of heauen, & of the world O Iudge full hie, Yet now at length apoinct a meane of carefull miſerie. And ende of our calamitie. To mee yet neuer day Hath careles ſhin' de: the ende of one affliction paſt away Beginning of an other is: an other ennemy Is forthwith founde, before that hee his ioyfull family Retourne vnto an other fyght hee taketh by beheſt: Nor any reſpite giuen is to him nor quiet reſt: But whyle that he commaunded is: ſtraight him purſueth ſhee The hatefull Iuno. Was yet once from toyle and labour free His infants age? the monſters (lo) he venquiſht hath and ſlayne, Before he knew what monſters ment. The ſkaled ſerpents twayne Their double neckes drew on toward him, agaynſt the which to ryſe, The infant crept to meete with them, the ſerpents glittring eyes Lyke fyre, with quiet careleſſe breſt he looking laſt vpon, With coūtnance cleere, hard wreſted knots of them he caught anon: And ſtrangling then the ſwelling throates of them with tender hand, To Hydra prelude made. the beaſt ſo ſwyfte of Maenale land. That with much Golde bare vp full bright his beautifled head, Is caught in courſe. of Nemey wood likewiſe the greateſt dread The Lyon preſt with Hercles armes hath roarde with dreadfull crie. What ſhould I ſpeake of ſtables dyre, of ſteedes of Byſtonye? Or King caſt out himſelfe for foode his horſes fierce to fill? And briſtled beaſt in thicke tops woont of Erymanthus hill? The boare of Maenalye, the woods of Arcady to ſhake? And Bull that did no litle dread to hundred peoples make? Among the flocks of Heſper lande that hence farre diſtant bee, The ſheepherde of Carteſian coaſt of triple ſhape to ſee Is ſlayne, and driuen is the pray from fartheſt parte of weaſt, Citheton quak't when by him paſt to ſea the well knowne beaſt. He being bid to make by coaſtes of ſommer ſunne his way, And parched landes which ſore with heate doth boyle the middell day, The mountaynes brake on either ſide and rampiers all vndoon, Euen vnto ſwyft and raging ſea hath made a way to roon. Then entring in of plenteaus wood, the pleaſant gardeins gay, The waking dragons golden ſpoyles with him he brought away. The Lerna monſters numerous ill what neede to tell haue I? Hath he not him with fyre at length ſubdewde, and taught to dye? And which were woont with wings abrode to hyde the day from ſight, Euen from the cloudes he ſought & braue the Stimphale birdes to flight. Not him ſubdewde who euer lyes in bed vnmacht at night The wyddowe queene of them that tooke to Thermodont their flight. Nor handes that well durſt euterpriſe his noble trauayles all The filthy labour mad to ſhrynke of foule Augias hall. What vayle all theſe? he wants the world which oft defended he. And th earth well knowes the worker of his quietnes to be Away from earthe: the proſperous gilt that beareth happy ſwey. Is vertue callde, and now the good to wicked doe obay. The right doth ſtand in might of armes, feare treadeth downe the lawe. Before my face with cruell hand, euen preſently I ſawe Reuengers of theyr fathers reygne, the ſonnes with ſworde downe caſt, And of the noble Cadmus eke himſelfe the ofſpring laſt Then ſlayne: I lawe his regall crowne at once from him away With head bereft. Who Thebes alas enough bewayle nowe may? The fertile land of Gods, what lorde now quakes it for to knowe? Out of the fieldes of which ſomtime, and fruictfull boſome lowe, The youth vpſprong with ſwarde in band preparde to battell ſtoode: And walls of which Amphion one of mighty Ioue his broode, Hath built with ſounding melody in drawing to the ſtones: To towne of whom the parent chiefe of Gods not onely ones Heauen being left hath come. this land that Gods aboue alway Receiu'de, and which hath made them Gods, and (leefull beete to ſay) Perhaps ſhall make, with lothſome yoake of bondage is preſt downe. O Cadmus ſtocke, and citezens of olde Amphions towne, Whereto are yee nowe fall'ne? dread yee a cowardly exull thus, His coaſtes to dwell in, lacking, and to ours iniurious? W o through the worlde purſues the gilts and wrong by ſea and land, And cruell ſceptors broken hath with iuſt and ryghtfull hand, Nowe abſent ſerues, and what he eal'de in other doth ſuſtayne: And now doth bannyſht Lycus holde of Hercles Thebes the rayne. Yet ſhall he not: he ſhall come home, and him with vengeaunce quight, And ſodaine riſe to ſtarres: he will ſoone flude the way to light, Or make it ells. returne thou ſafe, repayre to thine in haſte: And conquerour to conquer'de houſe yet come agayne at laſte. Ryſe vp my ſpouſe, and darknes vecye repell'de of helly ſhade Breake vp with hand, if no way may for thee kept backe bee made, And paſſage be ſhut vp, returne with world vprent by might. And whatſoeuer is the poſſeſt byneath in darkeſt night, Send dut with thee, as when the tops of haughty hylles vndoon A headlong paſſage making through for haſty floude to roon Thou ſomtime ſtoodſt, whā with great might of thyne a ſunder broake The Tempye woods wyde open lay: and beaten with thy ſtroake The mount, now here, now there fell downe: and rampier tente of ſtay, The raging brooke of Theſſaly did roon a newe found way. Thy parentes ſo, thy ſonnes, thy land repayring home to ſee, Breake out, and loweſt bonde of things out bringing thence with thee, And what ſoeuer greedy age in all theſe long yeares race Hath hid, ſhew forth, & ghoſts that haue forgot theyr former caſe, And people vp before thee driue that fearefull are of light. Vnworthy ſpoyles for thee they are, if thou but bring to ſight What bidden is. great thinges, but farre to much I ſpeake for mee, Vnwotting of myne owne eſtate. when ſhall I hap to ſee, The day when thee, and thy right hand, I may embrace agayne, And ſlowe returnes, nor yet of me once myndefull, may complayne? To thee for this O guide of Gods, vntamed Bulls ſhall bring Their hundred necks: to thee O Queene of fruits on earth that ſpring I'le geue thee ſecret ſacrifice: to thee with much fayth loe Long fyre brands at Eleuſis towne full ſilent wyll I throe. Then to my brethren ſhall I thinke to bee reſtort de agayne Theyr ſoules, and eke himſelfe aliue and guiding of his reyne My father for to flouryſhe yet. If any greater might Dor keepe thee ſhet, we followe thee: with thy returne to fight Defend vs all, or els to hell drawe downe vs all to thee. Thou ſhalt vs drawe, no God ſhall rayſe, vs vp that broken bee. AMPHITRYON, MEGARA. O Faythfull fellowe of our bloud, with chaſte true faythfullnes The Bridebed keeping, and the ſonne of haughty Hercules, Conceiue in mynde ſome better thinges, and take good heart to thee: He will come home, as after all his labours wounteth hee, Of more renowne ME. What wretches doe moſt chiefly wiſhe of all. They ſoone beleue. AM. Nay what they feare to much leſt it may fall, They thinke it neuer may bee ſhoon'de, nor rid by remedy. ME. Beleefe is ready ſtill to dreade the woorſer myſery. Deepe drownde, & whellm'de, & farthermore with all ye world full lowe Oppreſſed downe, what way hath he to light agayne to goe? AM. What way I pray you had he then whē through the burning coſte, And tumbling after maner of the troubled Sea vp toſte He went by ſands: and freate that twyſe with ebbe away doth ſlip, And twyſe vpflowe: and when alone with his forſaken ſhip, Faſt caught he ſtucke in ſhallowe foordes of ſhelfye Syrtes ſande, And (nowe his ſhip on grounde) did paſſe throught ſeas a foote to land? ME. Iniurious fortune vertue moſt of men moſt ſtout and ſtrong Do h ſeldome ſpa e: no man alyue himſelfe in ſafety long, To perills great and daungers may ſo often times out caſt, Whom chaunce doth often ouerſlip, the ſame it findes at laſt. But cruell loe, and greeuous threats euen bearing in his face, And ſuch as he of ſtomacke is, doth come euen ſuch of pace, Proude Lycus who the ſceptors ſhakes in hande of other king, The plentuous places of the towne of Thebes gouerning, And euery thinge about the whych with fertile ſoyle doth goe Sloape Phocis, and what euer doth Iſmenus ouerfloe, What euer thing Cithaeron ſeeth with haughty top and hye, And ſlender Iſthmos Ile, the which betweene two ſeas doth lye. Lycus. Megara. Amphitrion. NOt I of natiue countrey howres poſſeſſe the auncient right Vnworthy heir, nor yet to me are noble men of might The grandfathers, nor ſtocke renownd with titles hie of name, But noble vertue: who ſo boafles of kinred whence he come, Of others vertue makes his vaunt, but got with fearful hand My ſceptors are obtaynd: in ſword doth all my ſafety ſtand. What thee thou worſt agaynſt the will of cyteſyns to get, The bright drawne ſword muſt it defend in forrayne countrey ſet No ſtable kingdome is. But one my pompe and princely might May ratify once ioynd to me with regall forche ful bright, And chambers Megara: of ſtocke of ſuch nobility Let vpſtart ſtate of myne take ſhape. I do not thinke that ſhee Refuſe it will, or in the bed with mee deſpyſe to lye. But if with proude vnbridled mynde ſhee ſtubburn do denye, Then quite I purpoſe to deſtroy the houſe of Hercules The hate of men will then my pryde, and peoples ſpeach oppres. Chiefe knacke of kingdome is to beare thy ſubiectes hates eche one. Lets proue her then, chaunce geuen hath to vs a place alone. For ſhee her head in fold of vayle ful ſad and wofully Enwrapt the Gods that are her guides for ſuccour ſtandes faſt by, And at the ſyde of her doth leane Alcides father trewe. Meg. What thing doth this deſtroyer of our ſtocke agayne anewo Prepare? what proueth he? Ly. O Queene that name renowmed hye And tytle takſte of regall ſtocke ful gentle and eaſily A litle whyle receiue and heare my wordes with pacient eare, If alwayes men eternal hates ſhould one to th' other beare, And rage be gone out of the hart ſhould neuer fall away, But th'happy ſtill ſhould armour holde, th'vnhappy ſtil obay, Then ſhall the battayles nothing leaue: with wide fieldes then the lande Shall lie vntild, with vnderlayd to houſen fiery brand Then aſhes deepe ſhal ouerwhelme the buried people all. Expedient is to conquerour to wiſh that peace befall: To conquerd nedefull partner of the kingdome come to me: Let's toyne our myndes, take here this pledge of ſayth and truth to thee. My right hand touch. Why whiſhteſt thou with cruell face and moode? Meg. Should I abyde, that I the hand ſprinkt with my fathers bloud, Should ouch, and double death imbrewd of both my brethren? nay Firſt ſhall ſunne ryſe extinguiſh quitte, and Weſt ſhal bring the day: Firſt faythful peace betweene the ſnowes and fiers there ſhalbe tryde, And Scilla ſhall t' Auſonius fyrſt ioyne his Sicilian ſyde: And fyrſt, the fleetyng floud that with ſwift turnes of courſe doth flowe Euripus with Euboik waue ſhall ſtand ful ſtil and ſlow. My father, th'empire, bretherne, houſe, thou. haſt me cleare bereft, My countrey to: what may be more? one thing to me is left, Then brother, father, kingdome, houſe, that dearer is to mee The hate of thee, the which to me with people for to be In commune woe I am: how great is myne alonly part? Rule on ful proude, beare vp ful hye thy ſprites and haughty hart: Yet God the proude behynd theyr backes doth follow them to wreake. I know the Thebane kingdomes: what ſhould I the mothers ſpeake, Both ſuffring, and aduentring gyltes? what double miſchiefe done? And mixed name of ſpouſe at once, of father and of ſonne? What brether as double tentes? or what as many roages alſo? The mother proude of Tantals brood congeald in mourning I e, And ſory ſtone yet flowes with teares in Phrygian Sipylye. Himſelfe like wyſe erected vp his ſealed heade awrye. Euen Cadmus meaſuring throughout th'Illyrian landes in flight, Behynd him left of body drawne long ſlymy markes in ſight. All theſe examples wayte for thee: rule thou as likes thy will, Whyle thee our kingdomes wonted fates do call and oft hap yll. Ly. God to, theſe fierce and furious wordes thou woman mad refraine, And imperyes of princes learne of Hercles to ſuſtayne. Though I the ſcepters gotten by the force of war do beare, In conquering hand & all do rule without the law his feare. Which armes ſubdue, a few wordes yet to thee now ſpeake I ſhall For this my cauſe thy father did in bloudy battel fall: Thy brethren fell, the weapons kepe no meaſurable ſtay. For neither eaſily tempred be, nor yet repreſſed may The drawne ſwordes yre, the battels doth the bloud delite out ſhedde. But he yet for his kingdome fought, wee altogether led With wicked luſt: yet th'end of war is now complayned, loe, And not the cauſe, but now let all remembraunce therof goe: When conquerour hath weapons left, the conquerds part ſhould be To leaue his hates. Not I that thou with lowly bended knee Mee raygning worſhip ſhould'ſt, require: euen this doth mee delight. That thou thy myſeries do'ſt beare with mynde ſo ſtout vpright. Thou for a king a ſpouſe art meete, let's ioyne our beds anone. ME. A trembling colde doth run throughout my bloudles lims ech one. What hainous thinge comes to myne eares? I fear'de not then at all, When (all peace broake) the noyse of warre did by the city wall Reſounde about, I bare all that vnfearefully to ſee, I feare the wedding chambers: nowe I captiue ſeeme to mee. Let heauy chaynes my body greeue, and eke with hunger long Let lingring death be ſlowly brought, yet ſhall no force full ſtrong My truthe ſubdue: for euen thine owne Alcides will I dye. LY. Doth then thy huſband droun'de in hell geue thee this ſtomack hic? ME. The hells alowe he toucht, that he the height againe might get. LY. The heauy paiſe oppreſſeth him of all the earth full great. ME. Hee with no burdein ſhall be preſt, that heauen it ſelfe ſuſtayn'de. LY. Thou ſhalt be forſt. ME. He wots not how to die, that is cōstrain'd. LY. Speake, what may rather I prepare then wedding newe for thee. More royall gyft? ME. Thine owne death els, or els the death of mee. LY. Thou ſhalt mad woman die. ME. I ſhall then to my huſbande go. LY. More then my Sceptors is to thee a ſeruaunt loued ſo? ME. How many hath this ſeruant ſlayne of kings with hendy ſtroake? LY. Why doth he yet a king then ſerue, and ſtill ſuſtayne his yoake? ME. Take once away the hard beheſts, what's vertue then at laſt? LY. Do'ſt thou it vertue counte, to bee to beaſts, and monſters caſt? ME. T'is vertues part, to tame the things, that all men quake to know. LY. Him great things braggīg, darknes deepe of tartare presse ful low. ME. There neuer may from ground to ſtars an eaſy paſſage be. LY. Of whom begot, the houſen then of Gods through pearceth he? AM. O wretched wife of Hercles great, thy words a whyle now ſpare. My parte it is, the father of Alcides to declare. And his true ſtocke, yet after all of man ſo ſtoute as this So famous deebes, and after all appeaſ'de with hand of his What euer Titan ryſen vp, doth ſee, or els at fall, And after all theſe monſters tam'de, and Phlegrey ſprinkled all With wicked bloud, and after Gods defended all on hye, Is not his father yet well knowne? or Ioue doe we beelye? Beleeue it yet by Iunoes hate. LY. Why do'ſte thou ſclaunder Ioue? No mortall kinred euer may be mixt with heauen aboue. AM. To many of the Gods in ſkyes is this a common trade. LY. But were they euer ſeruauntes yet, before they Gods were made? AM. Of Delos Ile the ſheepherde loe the flocks of Pherey fed. LY. But through all coaſts he wandred not abroade as baniſhed. AM. Whō ſtraying mother firſt brought forth wādring loud to ſight. LY. Yet Phoebus did no monſters feare, or beaſts of cruell might. AM. Firſt Dragon with his bloud embrew'd the ſhalts of Phoebus lo. Howe greeuous ills euen yet full yong he bare, doe you not knoe? From mothers wombe ye babe out thrown with lightning flame frō hie, Euen next his lightning Father ſtoode forthwith aboue in ſkye. What? he him ſelfe that guides the ſtarres, & ſhakes the clouds at will, Did not that Infant lurke in Den of hollowe caued hill? The byrthes ſo great full troublous pryce to haue loe alwayes ought: And euer to be borne a God, with coſte full great is bought. LY. Whom thou a miſer ſee'ſt, thou mai'ſt know him a man to bee. AM. A miſer him deny yee may, whom ſtout of heart yee ſee. LY. Call we him ſtout, from ſhoulders hye of whom the Lyon throwne A gift for mayden made, and eke his Club from hand fell downe, And paynted ſide with purple weede did ſhyne that he did weare? Or may we him call ſtout of heart, whoſe ſtaring lockes of heare With ointmēt ſlowde? who hands renownde & knowne by prayſes hye To ſound vnmeete for any man of timber did applye, With barbarous mytar cloaſting in his forhead rounde about? AM. The tender Bacchus did not bluſhe abroade to haue layde out His brayded heares, nor yet with hand full ſoft the Thyrſus light For to haue ſhooke, what time that he with pace vnſtout in ſight His long train'de batbarous garment drew with golde full fayre to ſee. Still vertue after many workes is woont releaſt to bee. LY. Of this the houſe of Euritus deſtroyde doth witneſſe beare, And virgins flockes that brutiſhly by him oppreſſed weare. No Iuno did commaunde him this, nor none Euryſtheus loe. But theſe in deede his owne workes are. AM. Yet all yee doe not knoe, His worke it is, with weapons of his owne hand vanquiſhed Both Eryx, and to Eryx ioyn'de Antaeus Lybian ded: And aulters which with ſlaughter of the ſtraungers flowing faſt, Buſyris well deſerued bloud likewiſe haue drunke at laſt. His deede it is, that he that met the wounde, and ſworde is ſlayne Conſtrain'de to ſuffre death before thoſe other Geryons twayne. Nor ene all onely Geryon doth with one hand conquer'de lye. Thou ſhalt among theſe be which yet with none adulterye Haue wedlocke hurt. LY. What is to Ioue, to king is leefull thyng: To Ioue thou gau'ſte a wyfe, thou ſhalt nowe geue oue to a kyng. And euen of thee ſhee ſhall it learne to bee a thing not newe, Her huſband euen approuing it the better man t'enſewe. But if ſhee ſtubberne to be matcht with me deny it ſtill, Then euen by force a noble childe of her beget I will. Meg. O Creons ghoſts and all yee Gods of th houſe of Labdacus, And wedding forches blaſing bryght, of wicked Oedipus. To this my wedding geue yee nowe our wonted deſtenyes. Now, now yee bloudy daughters all of Aegypts king likewyſe, Bee here whoſe hands defyled are with ſo much bloud out ſpilt: One daughter lacks of Da aus, I wyll fyll vp the gylt. Ly. Becauſe that ſtubburnely thou do'ſt refuſe my wedding ſo, And fear'ſte a king, thouſhatt know what the Scepters now may do. Embrace thyne aulters, yet no God ſhall euer take away Thee from my hands: no not although with world vpturned, may Alcides victor yet agayne to Gods aboue returne. The woods on heapes together caſt, let all their temples burne Euen throwne vpon theyr heads: his wyfe, and all his flocke at laſte With vnderlayed fyre, let one wood pyle conſume and waſte. AM. This only bowne I father of Alcides aſke of thee, Which well may me beſeeme to craue, that I fryſt ſlayne may hes. LY. Who all appoyncts with preſent death to haue their puniſhment, He tyrunt wats not how to be: more ſundry greeues inuent. Reſtrayne the wretched man from death, commaunde that th'happy dye. I, while with beames prepar'de to burne the pyle encreaſeth hye, Will him with vowing ſacrifyce that rules the ſeas entreate. AM. Oh chiefeſt powre of Gods, and oh of heauenly things ſo great The guyde, and parent eke, with whoſe throwne thunderbolts do ſhake All things humane throughout the world of king ſo cruell ſlake The wicked hande: but why do I to Gods in vayne thus cry? Where euer thou be, heare me ſoone. why ſtart ſo ſodaynely The temples thus with moouing ſhakte? Why roareth out the graūd? The noyſe of Hell from bottome deepe byueathe hath made a ſound: Wee herde are, loe it is the ſound of Hercules his pace. Chorus. O Fortune hating men of ſtouteſt breſt, How ill rewards doſt thou to good deuyde? Euryſtheus raynes at home in eaſy reſt, Alcmendes ſonne in euery battayle tryde, To Monſters turnes hys hande that Skyes dyd ſtay: And cruell Neckes cuts of, of hydous Snake, And Apples brynges from Syſters mokt away, When once to ſleepe hys watchefull Eyes beetake, Dyd Dragon ſet ryche fruicte to ouerſee. Hee paſt the Scythian bowres that ſtraye abroade, And thoſe that in their countreys ſtraung ers bee And hardned top of froſen freate hee troade, And ſylent Sea with bankes full dumme about. The Waters hard want there their floudes to ſloe. And there before the Shyps full Sayles ſpred out Is worne a pathe for Sarmates wylde to goe. The Sea doth ſtande to mooue in courſe agayne. Nowe apt to beare the Ship, nowe horſemen bolde The Queene that there doth ouer Wydowes rayne, That gyrds her Wombe wyth gyrth of glittring gold, Her noble ſpoyle from body drawne hath ſhee And ſhyelde, and bandes of breaſt as whyte as ſnowe, Acknowledging the Conquerour with Knee. Wyth what hope drawne to headlong Hell alowe, So bolde to paſſe the vnreturned wayes Saw'ſte thon Proſerpines rayne of Sicylye? Wyth Southern wynde, or Weſtern there no ſeas Aryſe wyth waue and ſwellinge Surges hye. Not there of Tyndars ſtocke the double broode Two ſtarres the fearefull Shyps doe ayde and guide. Wyth gulph full blacke doth ſtande the ſlouthfull floode And when pale death with greedy teeth ſo wyde. Vnnumbred Nations hath ſent downe to ſprightes Wyth one Boateman all ouer feryed bee. God grauut thou maiſt of Hell ſubdue the rightes And vnreuoked webs of Syſters three. There kyng of many people raygneth hee. Who when thou did'ſt wyth Neſtors Pylos fight, Peſtiferous handes applide to matche with thee And weapon bare with triple mace of might: And prickt with litle wounde he fled away, And lorde of death hymſelfe did feare to dye. Breake Fate by force: and let the ſight of day To ſorry ſprightes of Hell apparant lye And porche vnpaſt ſhew way to Gods aboue. The cruell lordes of ſprightes wyth pleaſaunt ſong And humble bowne full well could Orpheus moue, Whyle he Eurydicen them craues among. The Arte that drew Woods, Byrds, and ſtones at will: Which made delay to Floudes of flitting flight At ſound whereof the ſauage Beaſtes ſtoode ſtill With tunes vnwont doth Ghoſts of hell delight And clearer doth reſounde in darker place: And weepe wyth teares did Gods of cruell breſt: And they which faultes with to ſeuere a face Doe ſeeke, and former gylt of Ghoſts out wreſt: The Thracian Daughters wayls Eurydicen. For her the Iudges weeping ſit alſo. Wee conquer'de are, chy efe kyng of death ſayd then To Gods (but vnder this condition) goe, Behynde thy huſbandes backe keepe thou thy way, Looke thou not backe thy Wyfe before to ſee. Than thee to ſight of Gods hath brought the day And gate of Spartane Taenare preſent bee. Loue hates delay, nor coulde abyde ſo long. His gyft, hee loſt, while hee deſires the ſyght. The place that coulde be thus ſubdew'de with ſong That place may ſoone bee ouercome by myght.
THE THYRDE ACTE. Hercules. O Comfortable guyde of light, and honour of the ſkye, That cōpaſting both Hemyſpheres with flaming chariot hye Thy radiāt head to ioyful lāds about y world doſt bring, Thou Phoebus pardon geue to me, if any vnlawful thing Thyne eyes haue ſeene: (cōmaūded) I haue here to light out ſet The ſecretes of the worlde: and thou of heauen to guider gret, And parent eke, in flaſhe out throwne of lightning hide thy fyght. And thou that gouerneſt the ſeas with ſeconde ſceptors ſyght. To bottome ſynke of deepeſt waues: who ſo from hye doth ſee, And dreading yet with countnaunce newe the earth deſil'de to bee, Let him from hence turne backe his ſight, and face to heauen vpholde, Theſe monſtrous ſights to ſhun: let twayn this miſchiefe great behold, Hee who it brought, and ſhee that bad. for paynefull toyles to mee, And laboures long, not all the earth thought wide inough may bee For Iunoes hate: things vncome to all men I did ſee, Vnknowne to ſoone, and ſpaces wyde that darke and ſhadefull bee Which woorſer poale geues dyrer Ioue to raygne and rule therein. And yet if thyrde place pleaſed more for mee to enter in, I there coulde raygne. the Chaos of eternall nyght of hell, And woorſe then night, the dolefull Gods I haue that there doe dwell, And Fates ſubdu'de, the death contemn'de I am return'de to light. What yet remaynes? I sawe and ſhow'de the ſpryghts of hell to ſight: Appoynt, if ought be moe, do'ſte thou my hands ſo long permit Iuno to ceaſſe? what thing byd'ſt thou to be ſubdued yet? But why doe cruell ſouldiars holde the holy temples wyde? And dread of armour ſacred porche beſet on euery ſyde? Amphitryon, Hercules, Theſeus. DOo eyther els my great deſyres delude and mocke myne eyes? Or hath the tamer of the world and Greekes renowme likewyſe, Forſooke the ſilent howſe, beſette with cloude full ſadde to ſee? Is this my ſonne? my members loe for ioy amaſed bee. Oh ſonne, the ſure and ſauegard late of Thebes in miſery, See I thy body true indeede? or els deceiu'de am I Mockt with thy ſprite? art thou y ſame? theſe brawnes of armes I know And ſhoulders, and thy noble handes from body hie that grow. Her. Whens (father) happes this vglines, and why in mourning clad Is thus my wyfe? how happes it that with filth ſo foule beſtad My children are? what miſery doth thus my houſe appreſſe? Am. The father in law is ſlayne: the kingdome Licus doth poſſeſſe. Thy ſonnes, thy parent and thy wyfe to death purſueth hee. Her. Vngrateful laud, doth no man come that will an ayder bee. Of Hercles houſe? and this behelde ſo great and haynous wronge Hath th'ayded world? but why were, I the day in playnt ſo long? Let then my dye and this renoume let ſtrength obtayne in haſte, And of Alcider enmies all let Lycus be the laſt. I driuen am to goe to ſhedde the bloud of enmye out. Watch Theſeu that no ſodayne ſtrength beſet vs here aboute: Me wa res require, embracing yet deferre O father deare, And wyfe deferre them: Lycus ſhall to hell this meſſage beare That I am now returnd. The, Shake of O Queene ont of thyne eyes This weping face, and thou ſynce that thy ſonne is ſafe likewyſe Thy drupping teares refrayne: yf yet I Hercles euer knew Then Lycus ſhall for Creon paye the paynes to him ful due. T'is lyght, he ſhal, he doth and that's to light he hath it done. Am. Now God that can them bring to paſſe, ſpede wel our wiſhes ſoone, And come to helpe our weary woes. O noble harted mate Of my ſtout ſonne, of his renowne declare vs all the rate: How long away doth leade to place where ſory ſprites doth dwell, And how the hard and heauy bondes the dog hath borne of hell. The. The deedes thou doſt conſtrayne to tell, that euen to mynde ſecure Are dredful yet and horrible, ſcant yet the truſt is ſure Of vitall ayre, ſore blunted is the ſharpneſſe of my ſight, And dulled eyes do ſcant ſuſtayne to ſee th'vnwoonted light. AM. Yet Theſeus throughly ouercome what euer feare remaynes In boſome deepe, nor do thou not of beſt fruict of thy paynes Beguilde thy ſelfe. What thing hath once to ſuffre beene a care, To haue remembred it is ſweete. thoſe dredfull haps declare. TH. All ryght of worlde, and thee lykewyſe I praye y bearſt the rayns In kingdome wyde, and thee, for whom all round about in vayne Thy mother throughout Aetna ſought, that ſecret things alowe And hid in ground, it freely may bee lawfull for to ſhowe. The Spartane land a noble toppe of hyll aduaunceth hye, Where Taenarus with woods full thick the Sea doth ouerly. The houſe of hatefull Ditis here his mouth doth open ſet, And rocke of hyll aboue doth gape, and with a denne full gret A huge and gaping cleft of ground with Iawes full wyde doth lye, And way full broade to people all doth ſpred to paſſe thereby. Not ſtraight with darkenes doth begin the way that blindes the ſight. A litle lingring brightnes loe behinde of late left light, And doubtfull glittring yet of ſonne afllicted falles alowe, And mocks the ſight: ſuch light is wont vndoubtedly to ſhowe The dawne of day, or twylight els at edge of euening tyde. From hence to hollowe places voyde are loaſte the ſpaces wyde, To which needes peryſhe muſt all kinde of men that once are throwne. Nor it a labour is goe, the way it ſelfe leades downe. As oft the ſhips agaynſt theyr willes doth toſſe the ſwelling ſurge, So downward doth that headlong way, and greedy Chao vrge: And backe agayne to drawe thy pace thee neuer doe permit The ſprits who what they catch hold faſt. alowe within doth flit In chanell wyde with ſilent foorde the quiet lake of lethe. And cares doth rid: and that there may to ſcape agayne from death No meane be made, with many turnes and windings euery way Foldes in his floude. in ſuch ſorte as with waue vnſure doth play Maeander wandring vp and downe, and yeldes himſelfe vnto, And doubtfull ſtands, if he toward banke, or backe to ſpryng may goe. The foule and filthy poole to ſee of ſlowe Cocytus lyes. On th'one the Grype, on th'other ſide the mournefull Howlet cries, And ſad lucke of th'unhappy Strix likewi •• loundeth there. Full vglily in ſhady bowes blacke Locks of lothſome heare, Where Taxus tree doth ouer leane, which holdeth ſlouthfull ſleepe, And hunger ſad with famiſht Iawe that lyes his place to keepe, And ſhame to late doth hide his face that knowes what crimes it hath, Both feare, and quaking, funerall, and fretting raging wrath, And mourning dyre doth follow on, and trembling pale diſeaſe, And boyſtrous battayles ſet with ſworde: and hid beyond all theaſe Doth ſlouthfull age his lingring pace help forth with ſtaffe in hand. AM. Of corne and wyne in hell alowe is any fertile land? TH. No ioyfull Meades do there bring forth with face ſo greene & fayre, Nor yet with gentill Zephyrus wagges ripened corne in th'ayre. Nor any tree hath there ſuch bowes as doe bryng apples out. The barrayne compaſſe of deepe ſoyle full filthy lyes about, And withred with eternall drought the lothſome land doth waſte And bond full ſad of thinges, and of the worlde the places laſte: The ayre vnmoued ſtands, and night ſits there full darke to ſee In ſlouthfull world, all thinges by dread full horrible there bee. And euen farre worſe then death it ſelfe, is place where death doth bide. AM. What? he that doth thoſe places darke with regall ſceptor guide, In what ſeate ſet, doth he diſpoſe and rule thoſe peoples light? TH. A place there is in turne obſcure of Tartarus from ſight? Which miſt full thick with fearefull ſhade doth holde and ouergoe. From hence a double parted ſtreame from one wellſpring doth floe: The tone, much like a ſtanding poole (by this the gods doe ſweare) The which the ſacred Stygian lake with ſilent floude doth beare: The t'other fierce with tumult great is drawen his courſe to goe, And Acheron with raging floud the ſtones dryues to and froe Vnſaylable. with double foorde is rounde about beſet Agaynſt it Ditis pallace dyre, and manſton houſe full gret In ſhadefull woode is couered: from wide den here the poſts And threſholds of the tyrant hang, this is the walke of ghoſts: This of his kingdome is the gate: a fielde about it goes, Where ſitting with a countnaunce proude abroade he doth diſpoſe Newe ſoules, a cruell maieſty is in the God to knowe: A frowning forehead, which yet of his brethren beares the ſhowe, And ſo great ſtocke: there is in him of Ioue the very face, But when he lightens: and great part of cruell kingdomes place, Is he himſelfe the lorde thereof: the ſight of whom doth feare, What euer thing is fear'de AM. Is fame in this poynet true, ye there Such rygours are, and gilty hoſts of men that there remayne Forgetfull of theyr former faulte, haue their deſerued payne? Who is the rector there of ryght, and iudge of equity? TH. Not onely one extorter out of faultes in ſeate ſet hye The iudgements late to trembling ſoules doth there by lot awarde: In one appoyncted iudgement place is Gnossian Minos harde, And in an other Radamanthe: this crime doth Aeac heare. What eche man once hath done, he feeles: and guilt to th'author the are Returnes, and th'hurtfull with their owne example puniſht bee. The bloudy cruell captaynes I in pryſon ſhee did ſee, And backe of tyrant impotent euen with his peoples hande All torne and cut. what man of might with fauour leades his lande, And of his owne lyfe lorde reſerues his hurtleſſe handes to good, And gently doth his empyre guide without the thyrſt of blood, And ſpares his ſoule, he hauing long led forth the lingring dayes Of happy age, at length to heauen doth eyther finde the wayes, Or ioyfull happy places ells of fayre Elyſius woode. Thou then that here muſt be a iudge abſtayne from man his bloode, Who ſo thou be that raygneſt kyng: our gyltes are there acquit In greater wyſe. AM. Doth any place preſeript of lymite ſhit The gylty Ghoſts, and as the fame reportes, doth cruell payne The wicked men make tame that in'eternall bondes remayne? TH. Ixion roll'de on whyrling wheele is toſt and turned hye: Vpon the necke of Siſyphus the mighty ſtone doth lye. Amyd the lake with thyrſty Iawes olde Tantalus therein Purſues the waues, the water ſtreame doth wet and waſhe his chin, And when to him nowe ofte deceyu'de it doth yet promiſe make, Straight flits the floud: the fruicte at mouth his famyne doth forſake. Eternall foode to fleeing foule doth Tytius hart geue ſtill: And Danaus daughters doe in vayne theyr water veſſells fill. The wicked Cadmus daughters all goe raging euery way: And there doth greedy rauening byrde the Phiney tables fray. AM. Nowe of my ſonne declare to me the noble worthy fight. Brings he his willing vnckles gyft, or Plutocs ſpoyles to ſight? TH. A dyre and dredfull ſtone there is the ſlouthfull foordes faſt bye, Where ſluggiſh freat with waue aſton'd full dull and ſlowe doth lye: This lake a dredfull fellow keepes both of attire and ſight, And quaking Ghoſts doth ouer beare and aged vgly wyght: His Bearde vnkempt, his boſome foule deform'de in filthy wyſe A knot byndes in, full lotheſome ſtand in head his hollowe eyes: He Feary man doth ſteare about his Boate with his long Ore. He driuing nowe his lightned Ship of burden towarde the Shore, Repayres to waues: and then his way 〈◊〉 doth requyre, The flocke of Ghoſts all geuing place: alowde cryes Charon dyre, What way attempteſt thou ſo bolde? thy haſtening pace here ſtay. But Nathales Alcmenaes ſonne abyding no delay, Euen with his owne poale bet he dothe full tame the ſhipman make, And clymes the ſhip: the barke that coulde full many peoples take, Did yelde to one: he ſat, the boate more heauy like to breake Whi h ſhyuering ioyntes on eyther ſyde the lethey floud doth leake. Then tremble all the monſters huge, the Centaures fierce of myght, And Lapithes, kindled with much wyne to warres and bloudy fight. The loweſt Chanelles ſeeking out of Stygian poole a downe, His Lerney labour ſore affright his fertile heads doth drowne. Of greedy Ditis after this doth then the houſe appere. The fierce and cruell Stygian dogge doth fray the ſpirites there, The which with great and roaring ſounde his heads vpſhaking three, The kingdome keepes his vgly head with filth full foule to ſee The ſerpentes licke: his hayres be fowle with vypers ſet among, And at his crooked wreſted tayle doth hyſſe a Dragon longe: Lyke yre to ſhape, when him he wyſt his pace that way to take, His briſtle hayres he lifteth vp with fierce vp bended ſnake: And ſounde ſent out he ſoone perceyues in his applyed eare, Who euen the ſprits is wont to ſent as ſoone as ſtoode more neare The ſonne of loue, the doubtfull dogge ſtrait couched downe in denne, And eche of them did feare. beholde with dolefull barking then The places dumme he makes a dred, the threatning ſerpent ſtout Through all the fieldes about doth hyſſe: the bawling noyſe ſent out Of dredfull voyce from triple mouth, euen ſprits that happy bee Doth make afrayde. from left ſide then ſtrayte way vndoeth hee The cruell Iawes, and Lyons head once ſlayne in Cleon fielde Agaynſt him ſets, and couer doth himſelfe with mighty ſhielde. And bearing in his conquering hande a ſturdy club of Oke, Nowe here, now there he rolleth him about with often ſtroke: His ſtripes he doubles: he ſubdew'de his threates aſſwaged all, And all his heads the weary dogge at once full lowe let fall, And quite out ot the denn he fled, full greatly feared (ſet In regall throne) both king and queene, and bad him to bee fet. And me likewyſe they gaue for gyft to Hercles crauing m e. The monſters heauy neckes with hand then ſtroaking downe all three, In lynked chayne he byndeth faſte forgetting then his ſtrength The dogge the watchefull keeper of the kingdome darke at length Layth downe his eares ull ore affray'de: and ſuffring to be led, And eke acknowledging his lorde, following wyth lowly hed, With tayle that ſnakes theron doth beare he both his ſides doth ſmight. But after that to Taenare mouth we came, and clearenes bright Had ſtrooke his eyes of light vnoknwne, good ſtomacke yet agayne He takes although once ouercome, and now the happy chayne He raging ſhakes: he had almoſt his leader pluckt from place, And headlong backward drawne to hell, and moued from his pace. And euen to my handes Hercles then his eyes did backward caſt, Wee both with double ioyned ſtrength the dogge out drawne at laſt For anger woode, and battells yet attempting all in vayne, Brought vp to world, as ſoone as he the cleere ayre ſawe agayne, And ſpaces pure of bryght fayre poale had once behelde with eye, The nyght aroſe: his ſight to ground he turned by and by, Caſt downe his eyes, and hatefull day forthwith he put to flight, And backward turnd away his looke, and ſtreight with all his might To th' earthe he falles: and vnderneath the ſhade of Hercles then He hyd his head. therewith there came a great reſorte of men With clamour glad, that did the bay about theyr forheads bryng: And of the noble Hercules deſerued prayſes ſing. Chorus. EVryſtheus borne with ſwiftned birth in haſt, Did bid to bottome of the Worlde to go: This onely lackt of labours all at laſt, To ſpoyle the Kyng of thyrde eſtate alſo. The dongeons darke to enter ventred hee, Where as the way to ſprits farre of doth bring Full ſadde, and woode ſo blacke and fear'de to bee: But full with flocke full great him following. As great a preaſſe as flocke in cyties ſtreetes, To ſee the Playes of Theatre newe wrought: As great as at Eléus thundrer meetcs, When Sommer fift the ſacred game hath brought: As great as when comes houre of longer night, And willing quiet ſleepes to bee extent, Holdes equall Libra Phoebus Char •••• light, A ſorte the ſecrete Ceres doe frequent, And from theyr howſen left doe haſt to comme, The Atticke prieſtes the nyghte to celebrate: Such heape is chaſte beneath by fieldes ſo dumme. With age full ſlowe ſome taking forth their gate Full ſad, and fillde with life ſo long now led: Some yet doe runne the race of better yeares, The virgins yet vnioynde to Spowſes bed, And yonglings eke on whom grow yet no heares And Infant lately taught his mothers name. To theſe alone, (that they the leſſe might feare) Is graunted night to eaſe with foreborne flame. The reſt full ſad by darke doe wander theare: As is our mynde, when once away is fled The lyght, when eche man ſorry feeles to bee Deepe ouer whelmde with all the earth his hed. Thick Chaos ſtandes, and darkneſſe fowle to ſee, And colour ill of night, and ſlouthfull ſtate Of ſilent World, and diuers Cloudes about. Let hoary age vs thyther bring full late. No man comes late to that, whence neuer out, When once hee is come, turne agayne he may. To haſt the hard and heauy Fate what vayles? This wandring heape in wyde landes farre away, Shall goe to Ghoſts: and all ſhall geue their ſayles To ſlowe Cocytus all is to thee enclinde, Both what the fall, and riſe of ſonne doth ſee: Spare vs that comme, to thee wee death are ſignde: Though thou be ſlow, our ſelues yet haſte doe wee. Fyrſt houre, that gaue the lyfe, it loaſt agayne. TO Thebes is come the ioyfull day, Your Aulters touch yee humbylly, The fat fayre Sacrifices ſlay. Maydes myxte with men in cumpany Let them in ſolempne Flockes goe royle: And nowe wyth yoake layde downe let c aſe The Iillers of the fertile Soyle. Made is wyth hande of Hercles peace Betweene the morne and Heſpers Glade, And where Sonne holding myddle ſeate, Doth make the Bodyes caſte no Shade. What euer grounde is ouerweate Wyth compaſſe longe of Seas abought, Alcydes laboure taemde full well. Hee ouer foordes of Tartare brought Returnde appeaſed beeinge Hell. There is remayning nowe no feare, Nought lyes beyonde the Hell to ſee. O Prieſt thy ſtaring Lockes of heare Wrappe in wyth loued Poplar tree.
THE FOVRTHE ACTE. Hercules, Theſeus, Amphitryon, Megara. WIth my reuēging right hād ſlayne now Lycus loe the groūd With groueling face hath ſmit: thē who ſoeuer fellow foūd Of Tyraunt was, partaker of his paynes did alſo lye. Nowe to my father ſacrifice and Gods victor will I, And aulters that deſerue it, with ſlayne offrings reuerence. Thee, thee O mate of all my toyles I pray and my defence O warrefull Pallas, in whoſe left hand thy cleare ſhielde Aegis ſhakes Fierce threats, whead that eche thing ſtone that looke vpon it makes. Let tamer of Lycurgus nowe, and of red Sea be heare, That poynct of ſpeare with Iuye greene in hand doth couer'de beare: And two Gods powre, doth Phoebus, and his Syſter to I pray The ſiſter meeter for her ſhaftes, but hee on th'harpe to play: And what ſo uer brother ells of myne doth dwell in ſky, Not of my ſtepdame brother, bring yee hyther by and by Your plentuous flocks, what euer haue all th' Indians fruicts brought out, And what ſweete odours th' Arabickes doe get in trees about, To th' aulters bring: let vapour fat and fume ſmoke vp full hye, Let rounde about the Poplar tree my hayres now beautifye Let th'oliue bowe thee hyde with braunche accuſtom'de in our lande Theſeu: for foorthwith reuerence the thundrer, ſhall my hande, TH. O Gods the builders of the towne, and which of Dragon fell, The wilde woods vens, and noble waues likewiſe of Dirces well, And Tyrian houſe enhabite eke of ſtraunger wandring king. HE. Caſt into fyres ye frankencenſe. AM. Sonne fyrſt thy hands flowing With bloudy ſlaughter, and the death of enmy purify. HE. Would God the bloud of hatefull head euen vnto Gods on hye I might out ſhed, for lycour loe more acceptable none Myght th' aulters ſtayne: nor ſacrifice more ample any one Nor yet more plentyfull may bee to Ioue aboue downe caſt, Then king vniuſt. AM. Deſyre that now thy father ende at laſt Thy labours all: let quietnes at length yet gieuen bee, And reſt to weary folke. HE. I will thee prayers make, for mee And Ioue ful meete in this due place let ſtand the haughty ſkye, And land, and ayre, and let the ſtarres dryue forth eternally Their courſe vnſtayde: let reſtful peace kepe nations quietly, Let labour of the hurtles land all yron now occupye, And ſwordes lye hyd: let tempeſt none ful vyolent and dyre Diſturbe the ſea: let from the ſkyes no flaſh of lightning fyre Fall downe whyle Ioue ful angry is: nor yet with winter ſnowe Encreaſed flood the ground vpturnde, and field quyte ouerthrowe, Let poyſons ceaſe: and from hensforth let vp from ground aryſe No greeuous hearbe with hurtful ſappe: nor fierce and fell lykewyſe Let tyrantes raygne but if to ſight ſome other miſchiefe bringe The ground yet ſhall, let it make haſt: and any monſtruous thinge It it prepare let it be myne, but what meanes this? myd day The darkenes haue incloaſ'd aboute lo Phoebus goeth his way With face obſcure without a clowde who dryues the day to flight, And turnes to eaſt? from whence doth now his duſky hed the night Vnknowne bring forth? whence fil the poale ſo many rownde about Of daytyme ſtarres? lo here behold my laboure firſt ful ſtout Not in the loweſt parte of heauen the Lyon ſhyneth bryght, And feruently doth rage with yre, and byttes prepares to fyght. Euen now loe he ſome ſtar wil take, with mouth full wyde to see He threatning ſtandes, and fires out blowes and mane vp ruſtleth he Shaking with necke the harueſt ſad of ſhape, what euer thinge, And what ſoeuer winter colde in froſen tyme dothbring, He with one rage wil ouerpaſſe, or ſpring tyme bull he will Both ſeeke and breake the neckes at once. Am. what is this ſodayne ylle? Thy cruel count'naunce whether ſonne doſt thou caſt here and there? And ſeeſt with troubled daſeld ſyght falſe ſhape of heauen appere Her. The land is tam'de the ſwelling feas their ſurges did aſſwage, The kingdomes lowe of hell lykewyſe haue felt and knowne my rage, Yet heauen is free, a labour meete for Hercules to proue. To ſpaces high I wil be borne of haughty ſkies aboue Let th' ayre be ſkaeld, my father doth me promiſe ſtarres t'obtayne. What if he it denyde? all th' earth can Hercles not contayne, And geeues at length to gods, me calles of one accorde beholde The whole aſſembly of the gods, and doth their gates vnfolde, Whyle one forbyddes, receyu'ſt thou mee, and openeſt thou the ſkye, Or els the gate of ſtubburne heauen draw after me do I? Do I yet doubt? I euen the bondes from Saturne wyll vndoe, And euen agaynſt the kingdome prowde of wicked father loe My graundſyre loaſe. let Titans now prepare agayne their fight With me theyr captaine raging: ſtones with woods I will down ſmight And hye hilles tops with Centaures full in right hande will I take. With dauble mountayne now I will a ſtayre to Gods vp make. Let Chyron vnder Oſſa ſee his Pelion mountayne gret: Olympus vp to heauen aboue in thyrd degree then ſet Shall come it ſelfe, or ells be caſt. AM. Put farre away frour thee The thoughts that ought not to be ſpoake: of mynde vnſounde to ſee, But yet full great, the furious rage aſſwage and lay away. HE. What meaneth this? the Gyauntes doe peſtiferous armes aſſay, And Tityus from the ſprights is fled, and bearing torne to ſee And empty boſome, loe howe neere to heauen it ſelfe ſtoode hee? Cythaeron falles, the mountayne hie Pallene ſhakes for feare, And torne are Tempe. he the tops of Pindus caught hath here, And Octhen he, ſome dredfull thing threatning doth rage about Eryn is bringing flames: with ſtripes ſhe ſoundes nowe ſharken out, And burned brandes in funeralles, loe yet more neare and neare Throwes in my face: fearce Tiſyphone with head and vgly heare With ſerpentes ſet, nowe after dogge fet out with Hercles hand, That empty gate ſhee hath ſhut vp, with bolte of fyry brande, But loe the ſtocke of enmious king doth hidden yet remayne, The wicked Lycus ſeede: but to your hatefull father ſlayne Euen now this right hande ſhall you ſende let nowe his arrowes light My bowe out ſhoote: it ſeemes the ſhaftes to goe with ſuch a flight Of Hercles. AM. Whether doth the rage and fury blinde yet goe? His mighty Bowe he drewe with hornes together driuen loe, And quiuer loaſte: great noyeſe makes with violence ſent out The ſhaft, and quight the weapon flewe his middle necke throughout, The wound yet left. HE. His other broode I ouerthrow will quight, And corners all. What ſtay I yet? to me a greater fyght Remaynes then all Mycenes loe, that rockye ſtones ſhould all Of Cyclops being ouerturn'de with hande of myne, downe fall. Let ſhake both here, and there the houſe, with all ſtayes ouerthrowne, Let breake the poaſts: and quight let ſhrinke the ſhaken piller downe: Let all the Pallace fall at once. I here yet hidden ſee The ſonne of wycked father. AM. Loe his flattring handes to thee Applying to thy knees dooth craue his lyfe with piteous mone. O wicked gylt, full ſad, and eke abhorde to looke vpone, His humble right hand caught he hath, and raging rounde about Him rolled twyſe, or thryſe hath caſt. his head reſoundeth out, The ſprinkled houſes with the brayne of him throwne out are wet. But ſhee poore wretch her little ſonne in voſome hyding yet Loe Megara, like one in rage doth from the corners flee. HE. Though runagate in boſome of the thundrer hid thou bee, This right hand ſhall from euery where thee ſeeke, and bring to ſight. AM. Wher goeſt thou wretch? what lurking dens, ſeekſt thou to take, or flight? No place of ſauegarde is if once bee Hercles ſtyrde with yre: But doe thou rather him embrace, and with thy meeke deſyre Aſſay t'aſſwage him. ME. Huſband ſpare vs I beſeech thee nowe, And knowe thy Megara, this ſonne thy countenaunce doth ſhowe, And bodyes pytche: behould'ſt thou howe his hands vp lyfteth hee? HE. I holde my ſtepdame: followe on due penaunce paye to mee, And bounden Ioue from fylthy bonde deliuer free away: But I before the mother will this litle monſter ſlay. ME. Thou mad man whither goeſt thou? wylt thou thine owne bloude ſheade? AM. Th'infant with fathers fyry face aſtonnted all for bread, Died euen before the wounde: his feare hath tooke away his lyfe. And now likewiſe his heauy club is ſhaken towarde his wyfe: He broaken hath the bones, her head from blocklyke body gone Is quight, nor any where it ſtayes, dar'ſte thou this looke vpone To long lyu'de age? If mouruing doe the greeue, thou haſt then loe The death preparde. Doe thou thy breaſt vppon his weapons throe, Or ells this club with ſlaughter ſtayn'de of monſters ſlayne that bee, Nowe hyther turne. thy parent falſe, vnfit for name of thee Ryd hence away, leaſt he ſhould be to thy reuowne a let. TH. Which way the father toward thy death doſt thou thy ſelfe caſt yet? Or whyther goeſt thou mad man? flee and lye thou cloaſely hid, And yet from handes of Hercules this onely myſchiefe rid. HE. T'is well, the houſe of ſhameful king is now quight ouerthrowne. To thee O ſpouſe of greatteſt Ioue I haue loe beaten downe This offred flocke: I gladly haue fulfill'de my wyſhes all Full meete for thee, and Argos now geue other offrings ſhall. AM. Thou haſt not ſonne yet all perform'de, fill vp the ſacrifiſe. Loe th'offring doth at th'aultars ſtande, it waytes thy hand likewyſe With necke full prone: I geue my ſelfe, I roon, I follow loe. Mee ſacrifice. what meaneth this? his eyes rolle to and froe, And heauines doth dull his ſight. ſee I of Hercules The trembling hands? downe falles his face to ſleepe and quietnes, And weary necke with bowed head full faſt doth downeward ſhrynke, With bended knee: nowe all at once he downe to ground doth ſinke, As in the woods wylde Aſhe cut downe, or Bulwarke for to make A Hauen in Seas. Liu'ſte thou? or els to death doth thee betake The ſelfe ſame rage, that hath ſent all thy famyly to death? It is but ſleepe, for to and fro doth goe and come his breath. Let tyme bee had of quietneſſe, that thus by ſleepe and reſt Great force of his diſeaſe ſubdew'de, may eaſe his greeued breſt. Remoue his weapons ſeruants, leaſt he mad get them agayne. Chorus. LEt th'ayre complayne, and eke the parent great Of haughty Sky, and fertile land throughout, And wandring waue of euer mouing freat. And thou before them all, which lands about And trayn of Sea thy beames abroade doſt throe With glittring face, and mak'ſt the night to flee, O feruent Titan: bothe thy lettinges loe And ryſing, hath Alcides ſeene wyth thee: And knowne lykewiſe hee hath thy howſen twayne. From ſo great ills releaſe yee nowe hys breſt, O Gods releaſe: to better turne agayne His ryghter mynde, and thou O tamer beſt O ſleepe of toyles, the quietneſſe of mynde, Of all the lyfe of man the better parte, O of thy mother Aſtrey wynged kynde, Of hard and pyning death that brother arte, With truth mingling the falſe, of after ſtate The ſure, but eke the worſte foreteller yet: O Father of all thynges, of Lyfe the gate, Of lyght the reſt, of nyght and fellowe fyt, That com'ſt to Kyng, and ſeruaunt equally, And gently cheryſſheſt who weary bee, All mankynde loe that dreadfull is to dye, Thou dooſt conſtrayne long death to learne by thee. Keepe him faſt bounde wyth heauy ſleepe oppreſt, Let ſlomber deepe his Limmes vntamed bynde, Nor ſoner leaue his vnright raginge breaſte Then former mynd his courſe agayne may fynd. Loe layd on ground with full fieree hart yet ſtill His cruel ſleepes he turnes: and not yet is The plague ſubdude of ſo great raging yll And on great club the weary head of his He wont to laye, doth ſecke the ſtaffe to fynde VVith empty handes his armes out caſting yet VVith mouing vayne: nor yet all rage of minde He hath layd downe, but as with Sowthwind greate The waue once v xt yet after kepeth ſtill His raging long, and though the wind now bee Aſſwaged ſwelles, ſhake of theis madde and yll Toſſinges of mynde, returne let piety, And vertue to the man, els let be ſo His mynde with mouing mad toſte euery waye: Let errour blynd, where it begun hath, go, For naught elsnow but only madnes maye Thee gyltles make: in next eſtate it ſtandes To hurtles handes thy miſchiefe not to know. Now ſtroken let with Hercules his handes Thy boſome ſounde: thyne armes the worlde allow VVere wonte to beare, let greuous ſtrypes now ſmyte VVith conquering hande, and lowde complaying cryes, Let th'ayre now heare, let of darke pole and nighte The Queene them hear, and who fulfyercely lyes That beares his neckes in mighty chaynes faſt bounde, Low lurking Cerberus in deepeſt caue. Let Chaos all with clamour ſad reſound, And of broad ſea wide open wafting waue. And th'ayre that felt thy weapons beter yet, but felt them though. The breaſtes with ſo great yls as theſe beſet, VVith litle ſtroake they mnſt not beaten bee. Let kingdomes three ſound with one playnt and crye, And thou neckes honour and defence to ſee, His arrowe ſtrong longe hanged vp on hye, And quiuers light the cruell ſtripes now l'myte On his fierce backe his ſhouldars ſtrong and ſtout Let oken club now ſtrike and poaſt of might VVith knots ful hard his bre •• ee load all aboute. Let euen his weapons ſo great woes complayne Not you pore babes mates of your fathers praiſe, VVith cruell wound reuenging kinges agayne: Not you your lims in Argos barriars playes, Are taught to turne with weapons ſtrong to ſmie And ſtrong of hand yet euen now daring loe The weapons of the Scithian quiuer light VVith ſtedy hand to paiſe ſet out from bow. And ſtags to perce that ſaue them ſelues by flight And backes not yet ful maend of cruel beaſt. To Stigian hauens goeye of ſhade and night Goe hurtles ſoules, whom miſchiefe hath oppreſt Euen in fyrſt porch of lyfe but lately had, And fathers fury goe vnhappy kind O litle children, by the way ful ſad Of iourney knowen. Goe ſee the angry kynges.
THE FIFTHE ACTE. Hercules, Amphitry on, Theſeus. WHat place is this? what region? or of the world what coaſt? Where am I? vnder ryſe of ſunne or bond els vttermoſt. Of th' cy beare or els doth here of ſea of He pery The fardeſt ground appoynt a bond for th'ocean ſea to lye? What ayre draw we? to weary wight what ground is vnderſet? Of truth we are returnd from hell whence in my houſe downe bet See I theſe bloudy bodyes? hath not yet my mynd of caſt Th'infernall ſhapes? but after yet returnd from hel at laſt Yet wander doth that belly heape before myne eys to ſee? I am aſham'de to graunt, I quake, I know not what to me, I cannot tell what greeuou yll my mynde before doth know. Where is my parent? where is ſhee with goodly childrens ſhow My noble harly ſtomackt ſpouſe why doth my left fyde lacke The lyons ſpoyle? which way is gone the couer of my backe? And ſelfe ſame bedde ful ſoft for ſlepe of Hercules alſo? Where are my ſha tes? where is my bow? then from my liuing who Could plucke away? who taken hath the ſpoyles ſo great as theſe And who was he that feared not euen ſleepe of Hercules? To ſee my conquerour me lykes, yt lykes me hym to know Ryſe victor vp, what new ſonne hath my father gotten now Heauen beynge left? at byrth of whom myght euer ſtayd bee A longer night then, was in myne? what miſchiefe do I ſee? My children loe do lye on ground with bloudy ſlaughter ſlayne? My wyfe is kild: what Lycus doth the kingdome yet obtayne? Who durſt ſo haynous giltes as theſe at Thebes take in hand When Hercles is returnd? who ſo Iſmenus waters land, Who ſo Acteons fieldes or who with double ſeas beſet The ſhaken Pelops kingdomes doſt of Dardan dwell on yet Helpe me: of cruel ſlaughter ſhow who may the author bee. Let rage my yre and all: my foe he is who ſo to me Shewes not my foe doſt thou yet hyde Alcides victorly? Come forth, euen whether thou reuenge the cruel charyots hye Of Bloudy Thracian king or yf thou Gerions catell quight Or lordes of Lybia, no delay there is with thee to fight. Beholde I naked ſtande, although euen with my weapons loe Thou me vnarmed ſette vppon. Wherfore fleeth Theſeus ſoe, And eke my father from my •• ght? theyr faces why hyde they? Deferre your weepings, and who did my wyfe and children ſley Thus all at once, me tell. Wherfore O father doſt thou whuſh ? But tell thou Theſeu, but Theſeu with thy accuſtom'd truſte. Ech of them ſylent hydes away their baſhefull count naunces, And priuily they ſhed their teares in ſo great ils as theſe, Of what ought wee aſham'de to be? doth ruler yet of might Of Argos towne, or hateful band of ſowldiars apt to fight Of Lycus dying, vs oppreſſe with ſuch calamity? By prayſe of all my noble actes I do deſyre of thee O father, and of thy great name approu'de to me alway The proſperous powre declare to mee, who did my houſhold flay? Whoſe pray lay I? A. Let thus thyne ylles in ſylens ouerpas. He. That I ſhould vnreuenged bee? Am, Reuenge oft hurtful was. He Did euer man ſo greeuous yls without reuenge ſuſtayne? A Whoſ euer greater fearde. H. Then theſe O father yet agayne May any greater thing, or els more greuous feared be? Am. How great apart is it thou wo ſt of thy calamity? Her. Take mercy father, lo I lift to thee my humble hands. What meaneth this? my hand fleeth backe, ſome priuy gy t their ſtandes Whence comes this bloud? or what doth mean flowing wt death of child The ſhaft imbrewd with ſlaughter once of Lerney monſter kilde? I ſee my weapons now, the hand I ſeeke no more to witte. Whoſe hand could bend this bow but myne? or what right at me but it Could ſtring the bow that vnto mee euen ſcantly doth obay? To you I turne: O father deare, is this my gylt I pray? They held their peace: it is myne own. Am. Thy greuous woe is ther , The cryme thy ſtepdames: this miſchaunce no falt of thyne hath here. Her. From euery part now father throw in wrath thy thunders mighte, And of thy ſonne forgetful now with cruel hand requighte At leaſt thy nephewes, let the world that beares the ſtarrs ſounde out. And let both th'one and th'other poale, flyng downe thy flames aboute: And let the bankes of Caſpyan ſea my bounden body teare, And gredy foule. Wherfore do of Prometheus lacke heare The rockes? with huge and haughty top let now prepared be, Both feeding beaſtes and foules, the ſyde of Caucas turne to ſee, And bare of woods, the yle that bridge of Scithe that therby ſtandes Simplegas ioynes, both here and there let it my bounden handes Stretch out abroade: and when with courſe return'de accuſtomd'ly They ſhall togeather dryue, and ſhall the rockes toſſe vp to ſkye With bankes togeather beyng thruſt, and eke the middle ſeay, Let me bet weene the mountaynes lye vnquiet reſtleſſe ſtay But building vp with wood throwne on a heaped plie on h e My body thus with wicked bloud eſprinct, why but e not I? So, ſo yt muſ be done: to hell I Hercles will reſtore. Am. Not yet his hart aſtonted lackes his ragyng 〈◊〉 ſore, But wrath hath turnd: and which of rage is prop rty and yre Agaynſt himſelfe he rageth now Her. The furies places dire And dungeon depe of ſprites in hell and place of tormentry To gylty ghoſtes and baniſhment yf any yet do lye Beyond Erebus, yet vnknowen to Cerberus and mee, There hyde me ground to fartheſt bond of Tartarus to ſee. To tary there Ile goe. O breſt of myne to fierce and ſtoute: Who you my children thus diſperſt through all my houſe about, May worthely enough bewayle? in all my euils yet This countnaunce hard can neuer weepe, a ſword now hether ſet: My ſhaftes reach hether, hyther reach my mighty club alſo: To thee my weapons breake I wi , to thee my ſonne a two Ile knappe my bowes, and eke my clubbe, this blocke of heauy wayghte Shal to thy ſprites be burned loe: this ſelfe ſame quiuer frayght With Lerney ſhaftes to funerall of thyne ſhall like wyſe goe. Let all my weapons penance pay and you vnhappy to Euen with my weapons burne I wil, O ſtepdames handes of myne. Th. Who euer yet to ignoraunce hath geuen name of cryme? Her. Ful oftentymes did errour greate the place of gylt obtayne. Th. T'is neede to be a Hercles now, this heape of yll ſuſtayne. Her. Not ſo, hath ſhame yet geuen place with fury drowned quight: But peoples all I rather ſhould dryue from my wicked ſight. My weapons, weapons Theſens. I quickly craue to mee Withdraw to be reſtoard agayne: if ſound my mynd now bee, Reſtore to me my weapons: if yet laſt my rage of mynd, Then father flee: for I the waye to death my ſelfe ſhalfynde. Am. By ſacred holy ynreds rightes, by force and duty all Of both my names; if eyther me thy brynger vp thou call. Or parent els, and (which of good men reuerenced are) By theſe hoare •• yres, I the beſech my deſert age yet ſpare, And wery yeares of houſe ſalne downe the one alonly ſtay, One onely light to mee, with yls afflicted euery way Reſerue thy ſelfe: yet neuer hath there happ ned once of thee Fruite of thy toyles: ſtill eyther I the doubtful ſea to ſee Or monſters feard: who euer yet hath bene a cruell king In all the world to ghoſtes allow, and aulters both hurtinge, Of me is feard: the father of thee abſent ſtil to haue The feuite, the touching, and the ſight of thee at length I craue. He. Wherfore I longer ſhould ſuſtayn my life yet in this light, And linger here no cauſe there is, all good loſt haue I quighte, My mynd, my weapons, my renoume, my wife, my ſonnes, my handes, And fury to no man may heale and loſe from gylty handes My mynd defyeld: needes muſt with death he heald ſo haynous yll. Th. Wilt thou thy father IIay? He. Leaſt I ſhoulde do it die I will. Th. Before thy fathers face? He. I taught him miſchief for to ſee. Th. Thy deedes marking rather that ſhould of al remembred bee, Of this one only cryme I do a pardon of thee craue. Her. Sall he geue pardon to himſelfe, that to none els it gaue? I beeing bidden prayſe deſeru'd, this deede mine owne doth proue. Helpe father now, if eyther els thy piety thee moue, Or els my heauy fate, or els the honour and renowne. Of ſtained ſtrength, my weapons bringe, let fortune be throwen downe. with my right hand. Th. The prayers which thy father makes to thee Are ſtronge enough, but yet likewyſe with weeping loe of me By moued yet: aryſe thou vp, and with thy wonted myght Subdue thyne yls: now ſuch a mynde •• meete to beare vpright No euill hap, receyus againe loe now with manhode gret Thou muſt preuayle. euen Hercules forbyd with yre to fret. HE. Alyue, I hurt: but if I dye I take the gylt alſo. I haſt to ridde the world of cryme euen now before me lo A wicked monſter cruel, and vntamed fierce and flout Doth wander: now with thy ryght hand begime to goe aboute A greate affayre, yea more then all thy twyſe ſixe labours long. Yet ſtayſt thou wretch, that late agaynſt the children waſt ſo ſtronge, And fearful mother now except reſtoard my weapons ee, Of Thracian Pindus eyther I wil feare downe euery tree, And Bacchus holly woods and tops of mount Cythaeron hye Burne with myſelfe, and al 'at once with all their houſen I And with the Lordes therof the roofes with goddes of Thebes all The Thebane temples euen vppon my body will let fall: And wyl be hyd in to wne vpturnd: if to my ſhoulders might The wall s themſelues all caſt ther •• ſhall fall a burden light, And couerd with ſeuen gates I ſhall not be enough oppreſt, Then all the wayght wheron the worlde in middle part doth reſt, And partes the Goddes vppon my head Ile turne and ouerthrow My weapons geue. Am. This word is meete for Hercles father lo With this ſame arrow ſlaine behold thy ſonne is tombled downe, This weapōs cruell Iuno lo from handes of thyne hath throwne, This ſame wil I now vſe, loe ſee how leaps with feare afright My wretched harte, and how it doth my careful body ſmight. The ſhaft is ſet therto thou ſhalt a miſchiefe lo do now Both willing it and wotting: tel, what thing commaundeſt thou? I nothing craue my doloure let in ſaf'ty ſtandeth now. To kepe my ſonne alyue to mee that onely do canſt thou O Theſeu, yet I haue not ſcapte great'st feare that happen can Thou canſt mee not a miſer make, thou mayſt a happy man So order euery thyng thou doſt, as all thy cauſe in hand, And fame thou mayſt wel know in ſtrayght and doubtful ca e to ſtande Thou liu'ſt, or dieſt: this ſlender ſoule that light is hence to flee, Weried with age and no leſſe bet with greuous ils to ſee, In mouth I holde ſo ſlowly to a father with ſuch ſlaye Doth any man geue lyfe? I wilno longer bid delay, The deadly ſword throughout my breaſt to ſtrike I wil apply, Here, here the gylt of Hercules euen ſound of mynd ſhall lye. Her. Forbeare O father now forbeare, with draw thy hand againe. My manhood yeld thy fathers will, and impery ſuſtaine. To Hercles labours now like wyſe, let this one labour goe, Let me yet liue, lift vp from ground th'afflicted lims with woe O The eu of my parent: for from Godly touch doth flee My wicked hand. Am? I gladly do this hand embrace to mee. By this I beyng ſlayed will goe, this meuing to my breſt Ile ſlake my woes, Her. what place ſhall I ſeeke ronnagate for reſt? Where ſhall I hyde my ſelfe? or in what land my ſelfe engraue? What Tanais, or what Nilus els, or with his Perſyan waue What Tygris violent of ſtreame, or what fierce Rhenus flood, Or Tagus troubleſome that flowes with Ibers treaſures good May my ryght hand now waſh from gylt? although Maeotis cold The waues of all the Northen ſea on me ſhed out now wolde, And al the water ther of ſhoulde now pas by my two handes, Yet wil the miſchiefe deepe remayne alas into whet landes Wilt thou O wicked man reſort? to Eaſt or weſterne coſte? Ech where wel knowen, all place I haue of baniſhment quight loſte From me the warlde doth flee a back, the ſtarres that ſydelyng roue Do back warde dryue their turned courſe, euen Cerberus the ſoue With better count'naunce did behold O faythfull friend I ſaye, O Theſeu ſeeke ſame lurking place, farre hence out of the way O thou a warder of mens gyltes what euer Iudge thou hee That hurtful men doſt loue, repay a worthy thanke to me: And my deſertes. I thee beſeech, to ghoſtes of hell againe Send me that once eſcaped them: & ſubiect to thy raine Reſtore me yet to thoſe thy bandes, that place ſhal me wel hyde: And yet euen that place knowes me wel Th. Our land for thee doth bide There Mars his hande ac ui e agayne and made from ſlaughter free Reſtoard to armoure, l e that land (Alcides) 〈◊〉 for thee, Which wontes to quite the gods, and proue them Innocent to be. HERE ENDETH THE FIRST Tragedye of Seneca, called Hercules furens, tranſlated into Engliſhe by Iaſper Heywood ſtudente in Oxenforde.
THE SECOND TRAGEDIE OF SENECA ENTITVtuled Thyeſtes, faythfully Engliſhed by Iaſper Heywood Felow of Alſolne Colledge in Oxenforde. The Argument of this Tragedie.

MEGAERA ONE OF THE Helliſh furies raiſing vp Tantalus frō Hell, incited him to ſet mortall hatred betwene his two nephewes Thieſtes, & Atreus being brothers, and raining as Kinges ouer Mycenae by enterchangeable turnes, that is to witte Thieſtes to raine the one yere, and Atreus the other. Now Atreus enraged with furie againſt his brother partly for defiling and deflouring his wife Aerope by pollicie, and partly for taking from him a Ram with a golden fleeſe, practiſed with his ſeruāt how to be reuēged of his brother. This Atreus therfore diſſēblīg a reconciliation & inuiting Thyestes to Mycenae ſecretly & vnknowē to him, ſet before hī at a banquet the fleſh of his own childrē to eate. Afterward Atreus hauīg alſo geuē to his ſaid brother ye bloud of his childrē in a goblet to drinke, did laſtly cōmaūd the heads alſo to be brought in, at the doleful ſight wherof Thieſtes greatly lamēting knowīg ye he had eatē his owne childrē, was wonderfully anguiſhed. But Atreus for that he had thus reuenged himſelfe, toke therin great pleaſure and delectation.

THIESTES OF SENECA THE FIRST ACTE. The names of the Speakers Tantalus. Megaera. Atrcus. Seruant. Thieſtes. Philiſtencs. Meſſenger, Chorus. Tantalus Megaera, WHAT furye fell enforceth mee to fle, th'unhappy ſeat, That gaye and gaſpe with greedye lawe, the fleeyng food to eate What GOD to Tantalus the bowres wher breathing bodyes dwel Doth ſhew agayue? is ought found worſe, then burning thyrſt of hel In lakes alow? or et worſe plague then hunger is there one, In vayne that euer gapes for foode? ſhal Siſyphus his ſtone, That ſlipper reſtles rollyng payſe vppon my backe be borne. Or ſhall my lymmes with ſwifter ſwinge of whirling whele be torne? Or ſhal my paynes be Tytius panges th'encreaſyng liuer ſtill, Whoſe growing guttes the gnawing gripes and tylthy foules do fyll? That ſtyl by nyght repayres the panch that was deuourd by day, And wondrous wombe vnwaſted lieth a new prepared pray What ill am I appoynted for? O cruell iudge of ſprites, Who ſo thou be that tormentes new among the ſowles delytes Stil to diſpoſe, ad what thou canſt to all my deadly woe, That keeper euen of dungeon darke would fore abhorre to knowe. Or hel it ſelfe it quake to ſe: for dread wherof likewyſe I tremble wold, that plague ſeke out: lo now there doth aryſe My broode that ſhal in miſchiefe farre the grandſyers gilt out goe, And gyltles make: that firſt ſhall dare vnuentred ils to do. What euer place remayneth yet of all this wicked land, I wil fill vp: and neuer once while Pelops houſe doth ſtand Shall Minos idle be. Meg. Go forth thou deteſtable ſprite And vexe the Goddes of wicked houſe with rage of furyes might. Let them contend with all offence, by turnes and one by one Let ſwordes be drawne: and meane of ire procure there may be none, Nor ſhame: let fury blynd enflame theyr myndes and wrathful will, Let yet the parentes rage endure and longer laſting yll Through childrens children ſpreade: nor yet let any leyſure be The former faw s to hate, but ſtill more miſchiefe newe to ſee, Nor one in one: but ere the gylt with vengeance be acquit, Encreaſe the cryme: from brethren proud let rule of kingdom flyt To runnagates: and ſwaruing ſtate of all vnſtable thinges, Let it by doubtfull dome be toſte, betwene thuncertaine kyngs. Let mighty fall to miſery, and myſer clime to might, Let chaunce turne thempyre vpſydowne both geue and take the right. The banyſhed for gylt, whan god reſtore theyr country ſhall. Let them to miſchiefe fall a freſh as hatefull then to all, As to themſelues: let Ire thinke nought vnlawfull to be doon, Let brother dread the brothers wrath, and father feare the ſoon, And eke the ſoon his parents powre: let babes be murdered yll, But worſe begot? her ſpouſe betrapt t treaſons trayne to kyll, Let hatefull wyfe a wayte, and let them beare through ſeas their warre, Let bloodſhed lye the lands about and euery field a farr : And ouer conqueryng captaynes greate, of countreys far to ſee, Let luſt tryumphe: in wicked houſe let whoredome counted he The light'ſt offene: let truſt that in the breaſts of brethren breedes, And truth be gone: let not from ſight of your ſo heynous deedes The heauens be hyd, about the poale when ſhyne the ſtarres on hye, And flames with woonted beames of light doe decke the paynted ſkyls. Let darkeſt night bee made, and let the day the heauens forſake. Dyſturbe the godds of wicked houſe, hate, ſlaughter, murder make. Fyll vp the houſe of Tantalus with miſchieues and debates, Adorned be the pillers hygh with bay, and let the gates Be garnyſht greene: and worthy there for thy returne to ſight. Be kyndled fyre: let miſchyefe done in Thracia once, theyr lyght More many folde, wherefore doth yet the vncles hand delaye? Doth yet Thyeſtes not bewayle his childrens fatall day? Shall he not finde them where with heat of fyres that vnder glowe The cawderne boyles? their limmes eche one a peeces let them go Diſperſte: let fathers fires, with blood of chyldren fyled bee: Let deynties ſuch be dreſt: it is no miſchiefe newe to thee, To banquet ſo: behold this day we haue to thee releaſt, And hunger ſtarued wombe of thyne we ſend to ſuch a feaſt. With fowleſt foode thy famyne fyll, let bloud in wyne be drownd, And dronke in ſight of thee: loe now ſuch diſhes haue I found, As thou wouldſt ſhonne, ſtay whither doſte thou hedlong way now take Tan. To pooles and floods of hell agayne and ſtyll declining lake, And flight of tree ful frayght with fruite that from the lippes doth flee, To dungeon darke of hateful hell let leeful be for me To goe: or if to light be thought the paynes that there I haue, Remoue me from thoſe lakes agayne: in midſt of worſer waue Of Phlegethon, to ſtand in ſeas of fyre beſet to bee. Who ſo beneath thy poynted paynes by deſtenyes decree Doſt ſtil endure who ſoo thou bee that vnderlieſt alow The hollow denne, or ruyne who that feares and ouerthrow Of fallyng hyl, or cruel cryes that ſound in caues of hell Of greedy r aryng Lyons throats or flocke of furyes fell Who quakes to know or who the brandes of fyre in dyreſt payne Halfe burnt throwes of harke to the voyce of Tantalus: agayne That haſtes to hel, and whom the truth hath taught beleeue wel mee Loue wel your paynes, they are but ſmall when ſhall my hap ſo bee To flee the light? Meg Diſturbe thou fyrſt thys houſe with dire diſcord Debates and battels bring with thee, and of th'unhappy ſworde Ill loue to kinges: the cruel breſt ſtr ke through and hateful hart, With tumult mad. Tan. To ſuffer paynes it ſeemeth wel my part, Not woes to worke: I am ſent forth lyke vepoure dyre to ryſe, That breakes the ground or poyſon like the plague in wondrouſe wyſe That ſlaughter makes, ſhall I to ſuch deteſted crymes, applye My nephewes hartes? parentes great of Gods aboue the ſkie And myne (though ſham'de I be to graunt) although with greater pain My tounge be vext, yet this to ſpeake I may no whit refrayne Nor hold my peace: I war e you this leaſt ſacred hand with bloud Of ſlaughter dyre, or franſ e fell of fran ke fury wood The aulters ſtayne, I wll reſiſt: And garde ſuch gylt away. With ſtrpes why doſt thou me affryght? why threatſt thou me to fraye Thoſe crallyn g ſnakes? or famine fyxt in empty wombe, wherfore Doſt thou reuyue? now fries within with thyrſt enkmdled ſore My harte: and in the bowels burnt the boyling fl me do glow. Meg. I follow thee: through all this houſe now rage and fury throwe Let them be driuen ſo, and ſo let eyther thirſt to ſee Each others blood ful well hath felt the comming in of thee This houſe, and all with wicked touch of the degune to quake. Enough it is, repayre agayne to dens nd loathſome lake, Of floud well knowen, the ſadder ſoyle with heauy fote of thyne Agreeued is, ſeeſt thou from syringes how waters do declyne And inward ſinke? or how the bankes lye voyde by drughty heate? And hoatter blaſt of fyery wynde the fewer cloudes doth beate? The treeſe be ſpoyld, and naked ſtand to ſight in withred woddes, The barayne bowes whoſe fruites are fled: the land betwene the floods With ſurge of ſeas on eyther ſyde that wonted to reſound, And earer foordes to ſeperat ſometyme with leſſer ground, Now broader ſpred, it heareth how aloofe the waters ryſe. Now Lerna turnes agaynſt the ſtreame Phoronides likewyſe His poares be ſtopt, with cuſtom'd courſe Alphéus dryues not ſtill, His hollie waues, the trembling tops of high Cithaeron hill, They ſtand not ſure: from height adowne they ſhake their ſyluer ſnowe, And noble fieldes of Argos feare, theyr former drought to know. Yea Tytan doubtes himſelfe to rolie the worlde his wonted way, And driue by force to former courſe the backward drawing daye. Chorus, THis Argos towne if any God be founde, And Piſey boures that famous yet remayn, Or kingdomes els to loue of Corinthes ground, The double hauens, or ſundred ſeas in twayne If any loue of Taygetus his ſnowes, (By VVinter which when they on hils be caſt: By Boreas blaſtes that from Sarmatia blowes, VVith yerely breath the ſommer meltes as faſt) VVhere clere Alphéus runnes with floude ſo cold, By playes wel knowen that there Olimpiks hight: Let pleaſaunt powre of his from henſe withholde Such tunes of ſtryfe that here they may not light: Not nephew worſe then grandſier ſpring from vs, Or direr deedes delyght the yonger age. Let wicked ſtocke of thirſty Tantalus At length leaue of, and wery be of rage. Enoughe is done, and naught preuaild the iuſt, Or wrong: betrayed is Mirtilus and drownde, That did betray his dame, and with like truſt Borne as he bare, himſelfe hath made renound VVith chaunged name the ſea: and better knowne To mariners therof no fable is. On wicked ſword the litle infant throwne As ran the chide to take his fathers kiſſe. Vnrype for thaulters offring fell downe deade: And with thy hand (O Tantalus) was rent, VVith ſuch a meate for Gods thy boordes to ſpread. Eternall famine for ſuch foode is ſent, And thyrſt: nor for thoſe daynty meats vnmilde, Might meeter payne appoynted euer bee Vith empty throate ſtandes Tantalus begylde, Aboue thy wicked head their leanes to thee, Then Phineys fowles in flight a ſwifter pray. VVith burned bowes declynd on euery ſyde, And of his fruites all bent to beare the ſway, The tree deludes the gapes of hunger wyde Though hee full greedy feede theron would fayne. So oft deceyu'de neglectes to touch them yet: He turnes his eyes, his iawes he doth refrayne, And famine fixt in cloſed gummes doth ſhet. But then each braunch his plenteous ritches all, Lets lower downe, and apples from an hie VVith lither leaues they flatter like to fall And famine ſtyrre: in vayne that bids to trye His handes: which when he hath rought forth anone To be beguyld, in higher ayre againe The harueſt hanges and fickle fruite is gone, Then thirſt him greeues no leſſe then hungers payne: Wherwith when kindled is his boyling bloud Lyke fyre, the wretch the waues to him doth call, That meete his mouth: which ſtraight the fleeyng floud VVithdrawes, and from the dryed foorde doth fall: And him forſakes that followes them. He drinkes The duſt ſo deepe of gulfe that from him ſhrinkes.
THE SECONDE ACTE. Atreus. Seruaunt O Daſtard, cowrde, O wretche, and (which the greateſt yet of all To Tyrantes checke I compte that maye in waighty thinges befall) O vnreuenged: after guyltes ſo great and brothers guyle. And trewth trode downe doſt thou prouoke with vayne complaynts the whyle Thy wrath? already now to rage all Argos towne throughout In armoure ought of thyne, and all the double ſeas about Thy fleete to ryde: now all the fieldes with feruent flames of thyne, And townes to flaſh it wel beſeemde: and euery where to ſhyne, The bright drawne ſword: all vuder foote of horſe let euery ſyde Of Argos lande reſound: and let the woundes not ſerue to hyde Our oes, nor yet in haughty top of hilles and mountaynes hye, The builded towers. The people all let them to battel crye And clere for ſake Mycenas towne who ſo his hateful head Hides and defendes, with ſlaughter dire let bloud of him be ſhed. This princely Pelops palace proude, and bowres of high renowne, On mee ſo on my brother to let them be beaten downe, Go to, do that which neuer ſhall no after age allow, Nor none it whiſht: ſome wiſcheſe greate ther muſt be ventred now, Both fierce and bloudy: ſuch as woulde my brother rather long To haue bene his. Thou neuer doſt enough reuenge the wronge. Exept thou paſſe. And feercer fact what may be done ſo dyre, That his exceedes? doth euer he lay downe his hateful yre? Doth euer he the modeſt meane in tyme of wealth regard Or quiet in aduerſlty? I know his nature harde Vntractable, that broke may be, but neuer wilit b nd. For which are he prepare himſelfe, or force to fight entend, Set fyrſt on him, leaſt while I reſt he ſhould on me aryſe. He wil deſtroy or be deſtroyd in midſt the miſchiefe lyes, Prepard to him that takes it firſt, Ser. Doth fame of people naught Aduerſe thee feare? Atre. The greateſt good of kingdom may be thought That ſtill the people are conſtraynd their princes deedes as well To prayſe, as them to ſuffer all. Ser. Whom feare doth ſo compell To prayſe, the ſame his foes to bee, doth feare enforce agoyne: But who indeede the glory ſeckes of fauour trew t'obtayne He rather would with hates of each be prayſd, then tounges of all Atre. The trewer prayſe ful oft hath hapt to meaner men to fall: The falſe but vnto myghty man what nill they let them will. Ser. Let firſt the king will honeſt thinges and none the fame dare nill. Atre. Where leeful are to him that rules but honeſt thinges alone, There raynes the kyng by others leaue. Ser. And wher y ſhame is none, Nor care of ryght, fayth, piety, nor holines none ſtayeth, That kingdome ſwarues. Atre. Such holines, ſuch piety and fayth. Are priuate goods: let kinges runne one in that that likes their will. Ser. The brothers hurt a miſchiefe count though he be nere ſo ill. Atre. It is but right to do to hym, that wrong to brother were What heynous hurt hath his offence let paſſe to pr ue? or where Refraynd the gylt, thy ſpouſe he ſta e away for lechery, And raygne by ſtelth: the auncient note and ſygne of ampery, By frawde he got: my houſe by fraud to vexe he neuer ceaſt: In Pelops houſe there foſtred is a noble worthy beaſt The cloſe kept Ramme: the goodly guyde of rych and fayreſt flockes. By whom throughout on euery ſyde depend a downe the lockes Of glittering gold, with fleece of which the new kinges wonted were Of Tantals ſtocke their ſceptors gylt, and mace of might to beate. Of this the owner raygneth he, with him of houſe ſo great The fortune fleeth, this ſacred Ramme aloofe in ſafety ſhet In ſecret mead is wont to graſe, which ſtone on euery ſyde With rocky wall incloſethe rounde the fatall beaſt to hyde. This beaſt (aduentryng miſchiefe greate) adioyning yet for pray My ſpouſed mate, the traytour falſe hath hence conuayde away From hence the wrongs of mutuall hate, and miſchiefe all vpſyreng: In exile wandred he throughout my kingdomes all along: No part of myne remayneth ſafe to mee, from traynes of hys. My feere deflourde, and loyalty of empyre broken is: My houſe all vext, my bloud in doubt, and naught that truſt is in, But brother foe What ſtayſt thou yet? at length lo now beginne. Take hart of Tantalus to thee, to Pelops caſt thyne eye: To ſuch examples well beſeemes, I ſhould my hand applye. Tell thou which way were beſt to bring that cruell head to death. Ser. Through perſt wt ſword let him be ſlayne & yelde his hatefull breath. Atre. Thou ſpeak'ſt of th'end: but I him would opres wt greter payne. Let tyrants vexe with torment more: ſhould euer in my rayne Be gentle death? Ser. Doth piety in thee preuayle no whit? Atre. Depart thou hence all piety, if in this houſe as yet Thou euer wert: and now let all the flocke of furies dyre, And full of ſtrife Erinnis come, and double brands of fyre Megaera ſhaking: for not yet enough with fury great And rage doth burne my boyling breſt: it ought to bee repleate, With monſter more. Ser. What miſchiefe new do'ſte thou in rage pro-uide? Atre. Not ſuch a one as may the meane of woonted griefe abide. No guilt will I forbeare, nor none may be enough deſpight. Ser. What ſword? Atr. To litle that. Ser. what fire? Atr. And y is yet to Ser. What weapon then ſhall ſorrow ſuch finde fit to worke thy will? Atr. Thy eſtes ſelfe. Ser. Then yre it ſelfe yet that's a greater ill. Atr. I graunt: a tombling tumult quakes, within my boſomes loe, And rounde it rolles: I moued am and wote not wherevnto. But drawen I am: from bottome deepe the roryng ſoyle doth cry The day ſo fayre with thunder ſoundes, and houſe as all from hy Were rent, from roofe, and rafters crakes: and lares turnde abought Haue wryde theyr ſight: ſo bee'te, ſo bee'te, let miſchiefe ſuch be ſought, As yee O Gods would feare. Ser. What thing ſeek'ſt thou to bring to pas I note what greater thing my mynde, and more then woont it was Atre. Aboue the reache that men are woont to worke, begins to ſwell: And ſtayth with ſlouthfull handes. What thinge it is I cannot tell: But great it is. Bee'te ſo, my mynde now in this feate proceede, For Atreus and Thyeſtes bothe, it were a worthy deede. Let eche of vs the crime commit. The Thracian houſe did ſee Such wicked tables once: I graunt the miſchiefe great to bee, But done ere this: ſome greater guilt and miſchiefe more, let yre Fynde out. The ſtomacke of thy ſonne O father thou enſpyre, And ſyſter eke, like is the cauſe: aſſiſt me with your powre, And dryue my hand: let greedy parents all his babes deuowre, And glad to rent his children bee: and on their lyms to feede. Enough, and well it is deuiſ'de: this pleaſeth me in deede. In meane time where is he? ſo long and innocent wherefore Doth Atreus walke? before myne eyes already more and more The ſhade of ſuch a ſlaughter walkes: the want of children caſt, In fathers Iawes. But why my mynde, yet dreadſt thou ſo at laſt, And faiut'ſt before thou enterpriſe? it muſt bee done, let bee, That which in all this miſchiefe is the greateſt guilt to ſee, Let him commit. Ser. but what diſceit may wee for him prepare, Whereby betrapt he may be drawne, to fall into the ſnare? He wotes full well we are his foes. Atre. He could not taken bee, Except himſelfe would take: but now my kingdomes hopeth hee. For hope of this he woulde not feare to meete the mighty Ioue, Though him he threatned to deiſtroy, with lightning from aboue. For hope of this to paſſe the threats of waues he will not fayle, Nor dread no whit by doubtfull ſhelues, of Lybike ſeas to ſayle, For hope of this (which thing he doth the woorſt of all beleeue,) He will his brother ſee. Ser. Who ſhall of peace the promiſe geeue? Whom will he truſt? Atre. His euill hope will ſoone beleue it well. Yet to my ſonnes the charge which they ſhall to theyr vuckle tell, We will commit: that whom he would from exile come agayne, And myſeries for kingdome chaunge, and ouer Argos raygne A king of halfe: and though to hard of heart our prayers all Him ſelfe deſpiſe, his children yet nought woting what may fall, With trauels tier'de, and apte to be entyſ, de from miſery, Requeſts will moue: on th'one ſide his deſyre of Imperie, On th'other ſyde his pouerty, and labour hard to ſee, Will him ſubd e and make to yeelde, although full ſtoute he bee. Sea. His trauayles now the time hath made to ſeeme to him but ſmall. Atr. Not ſo: for day by day the griefe of ill encreaſeth all. T'is light to ſuffer miſeries, but heauy them t'endure. Ser. Yet other meſſengers to ſend, in ſuch affayres procure, Atr. The younger ſorte the wroſe precepts do eaſely harken to. Ser. What thing agaynſt their vnckle now, you them enſtruckt to do, Perhaps with you to worke the like, they will not be a dread. Such miſchiefe wrought hath oft return'de vpon the workers head. Atre. Though neuer man to thē the wayes of guile & guilt haue taught, Yet kingdome will. Fear'ſt thou they ſhould be made by coūsel naught? They are ſo borne. That whith thou car, ſte a cruell enterpryſe, And dyrely deemeſt doone to be, and wickedly likewiſe, Perhaps is wrought agaynſt me there. Ser. And ſhall your ſons of this Diſceipt beware that worke you will? no ſecretnes there is In theyr ſo greene and tender yeares: they will your traynes diſcloſe, Atre. A priuy counſell cloaſe to keepe, is learnde with many woes. Ser. And will yee them, by whom yee woulde he ſhould beguiled bee, Them ſelnes begull'de? At. May let thē both from fault & blame be free. For what ſhall neede in miſchiefes ſuch as I to woorke entende, To mingle them? let all my hate by mee alone take ende. Thou leau'ſte thy purpoſe ill my mynde: if thou thine owne ſorbeare, Thou ſpareſt him. Wherefore of this let Agamemnon heare Be myniſter: and Client eke of myne for ſuch a deede, Let Menelâus preſent bee: truth of th'uncertayne ſeede, By ſuch a pracktiſe may be tri'de: if it refuſe they ſhall, Nor of debate will bearers be, if they him vnckle call, He is their father: let them goe. But much the fearefull face Bewrayes it ſelfe: euen him that faynes the ſecret wayghty caſe, Doth oft betray: let them therefore not know, how great a guyle They goe about. And thou theſe things in ſecret keepe the whyle. Ser. I neede not warned bee, for theſe within my boſome deepe, Both fayth, and feare, but chiefely fayth, doth ſhet and cloſely kepe. Chorus. THe noble houſe at length of high renowne, The famous ſtocke of auncient Inachus, Apeaſd & layd the threats of brethrē down But nowe what fury ſtyrs & driues you thus Eche one to thyrſt the others bloud agayne, Or get by guylt the golden Mace in hande? Yee litle wote that ſo deſyre to raygne, In what estate or place doth kyngdome ſtande. Not ritches makes a kyng or high renowne, Not garniſht weede wyth purple Tyrian die, Not lofty lookes, or head encloaſde with cr wne, Not glyttring beames with golde and turrets hie. A Kyng he is that feare hath layde aſide, And all affects that in the breaſt are bread: VVhom impotent ambition doth not guide, Nor fickle fauour hath of people led. Nor all that weſt in mettalls mynes hath founde, Or chanell cleere of golden Tagus ſhowes, Nor all the grayne that threſshed is on grounde, That with the heate of libyk harueſt glowes. Nor whom the flaſshe of lightning flame ſhall be ate, Nor eastern wynde that ſmightes vpon the ſeas, Nor ſwelling ſurge with rage of vvynde repleate, Or greedy Gulphe of Adria diſpleaſe. VVhom not the pricke of Souldiers ſharpeſt ſpeare, Or poyncted pyke in hand hath made to rue, Nor whom the glympſe of ſwoorde myght cauſe to feare, Or bright drawen blade of glyttring ſteele ſub due. VVho in the ſeate of ſafty ſets his feete, Beholdes all haps how vnder him they lye, And gladly runnes his fat all day to meete, Nor ought complaynes or grudgeth for to dye. Though preſent vvere the Prynces euerychone, The ſcattered Dakes to chaſe that vvonted bee, That shyning ſeas beſet with precious ſtone, And red ſea coaſtes doe holde, lyke bloud to ſee: Or they vvhich els the Caſpian mountaynes hye, From Sarmats ſtrong with all theyr power vvithholde: Or hee that on the floude of Danubye, In froſt a foote to trauayle dare bee bolde: Or Seres in vvhat euer place they lye, Renownde with fleece that there of ſylke doth ſpring, They neuer might the truth here of denye, It is the mynde that onely makes a king. There is no neede of ſturdie ſteedes in warre, No neede with armes or arrowes ells to fight, That Parthus woonts with bowe to fling from farre, VVhyle from the fielde hee falſely fayneth flight. Nor yet to ſiege no neede it is to bringe Great Guns in Carts to ouerthrowe the wall, That from farre of theyr battring Pellets ſlyng. A kyng hee is that feareth nought at all. Eche man him ſelfe this kyng dome geeues at hand. Let who ſo lyſt with mighty mace to raygne, In tyckle toppe of court delight to ſtand Let mee the ſweete and quiet reſt obtayne. So ſet in place obſcure and lowe degree, Of pleaſaunt reſt I ſhall the ſweetneſſe knoe. My lyfe vnknowne to them that noble bee, Shall in the ſteppe of ſecret ſylence goe. Thus when my dayes at length are ouer paſt, And tyme without all troublous tumult ſpent, An aged man I ſhall depart at laſt, In meane eſtate, to dye full well content. But greeuous is to him the death, that when So farre abroade the bruite of him is blowne, That knowne hee is to much to other men: Departeth yet vnto him ſelfe vnknowne.
THE THYRDE ACTE. Thyeſtes, Phyliſthenes MY countrey bowres ſ long wiſht for, and Argos rytches all, Cyteſe good that vnto baniſht then, and Myſers may befall, The touch of ſuyle where born I was, a gods of natiue lād, (If gods they be,) a ſacred towres I ſee of Cycolps hād: That repreſeat then all mans woorke, a greater maieſty. Renowned ſtad s to my youth, where noble ſometime I Haue not ſo ſeelde as once, the palme in fathers chariot woon. All Argos now to meete with me, and people faſt will roon: But Atreus to. yet rather leade in woods agayne thy flight, And buſhes thicke, and hid among the brutyſhe beaſtes from ſight, Lyke lyfe to theyrs: where ſplendent pompe of court a princely pryde, May not with flattring fulgent face, allure thine eyes aſide, With whom the kingdome geuen is, behold, and well regarde, Beſet but late with ſuch miſhaps, as all men couate full harde, I ſtoute and ioyfull was: but now agayne thus int feare I am returne. my mynde miſdoubtes, and backeward ſeekes to beare My body hence: and forthe I draw my pace agaynſt my will. Phy. With ſlouthfull ſtep (what meaneth this?) my father ſtādeth ſtill, And turnes his face and holdes him ſelfe, in doubt what thing to do. Thy. What thing (my minde) con dreſt thou? or els ſo long whereto Do'ſt thou ſo eaſte counſayle wreſt? wilt thou to thinges vnſure Thy brother and the kingdome truſt? fearſt thou thoſe ills t'endure Now ouercome, and mielder made? and trauayls do'ſt thou flee That well were plaſte? it thee auayls, a myſer now to bee. Turne hence thy pace while leefull is, and keepe thee from his hande. Phy. What cauſe thee driues (O father deere) thus rō thy natiue lande, Now ſeene to ſhrynk? what makes thee thus frō things ſo good at laſt Withdrawe thy ſelfe? thy brother comes whoſe tres be ouerpaſt, And halfe the kyngdome geues, and of the houſe Dy acerate, Repayres the partes: and thee reſtores agayne to former ſtate. Thy. The cauſe of feare that I know not, thou do'ſt require to heare. I ſee nothing that makes mee dread, and yet I greatly feare. I would goe on, hut yet my limmes with weary legges doe ſlacke: And other way then I would paſſe, I am withholden backe. So oft the ſhip that driuen is with wynde and eke with Ore, The ſwelling ſurge reſiſting both beates backe vpon the ſhore. Phy. Yet ouercome what euer ſtayes, and thus doth let your mynde, And ſee what are at your returne, prepar'de for you to finde. You may O father raygne. Thy. I may but then when die I mought. P. Chiefe thing is powre. T. nought worth at al, if thou deſyre it nought. P. You ſhall it to your children leaue. T. the kingdome takes not twayne, Phy. Who may be happy, rather would he myfer yet remayne? Thy. Beleue me well, with titles falſe the great thinges vs delight: And heauy haps in vayne are fearde. while high I ſtoode in ſight, I neuer ſtinted then to quake, and ſelfe ſame ſworde to feare, That hanged by myne owne ſide was. Oh how great good it were, With none to ſtriue, but careles foode to cate and reſt to knowe? The greater gyltes they enter not in cotage ſet alowe. And ſafer foode is fed vpon, at narrowe boorde alway, While drunke in golde the poyſon is by proofe well taught I ſay, That euill haps before the good to loue it likes my will. Of haughty houſe that ſiandes aloft in tickle top of hyll, And ſwayes aſyde, the cyty lowe neede neuer be affright: Nor in the top of roofe aboue, there ſhynes no Iuery bright, Nor watchman noue defendes my ſleepes by night, or gardes my reſt: With fleete I fiſhe not, nor the ſees I haue not backwarde preſt, Nor turn'de to flight with builded wall: nor wicked belly I With taxes of the people fed: nor parcell none doth lie, Of ground of myne beyonde the Getes: and Parthians farre about: Nor worſhiped with frankinſence I am, nor (Ioue ſhet out) My Aulters decked are: nor none in top of houſe doth ſtande In garden treeſe, nor kindled yet with helpe of eche mans hande, The bathes doe ſmoake: nor yet are dayes in ſlouthfull ſiumbers led, Nor nightes paſt forth in watche and wyne, without the reſt of bed. Wee nothing feare, the houſe is ſafe without the hidden knyfe, And poore eſtate the ſweetenes feeles, of teſt and quiet lyfe. Greate kindome is to be content, without the ſame to lyue. Phy. Yet ſhould it not refuſed be, if God the kingdome giue. Thy. Not yet deſierd it ought to be. Phy. your brother byds you rayne. Thy. Bids he? the more is to be fearde: there lurketh there ſome trayne. Phy. From whence it fell, yet piety is woont to turne at length: And loue vnfaynde, repayres agayne his erſt omitted ſtrength. Thy. Doth Atreus then his brother loue? eche Vrſa fyrſt on hys. The Seas ſhall waſhe and ſwelling ſurge of Seas of Sicylye Shall reſt and all aſſwaged be: and corne to rypenes growe In bottawe of Ionian ſeas, and barkeſt night ſhall ſhowe And ſpreade the light about the ſoyle: the waters with the fyre, The lyfe with death, the wynde with ſeas, ſhall friendſhip firſt requyre, And be at league. Phy. of what deceipte are you ſo dreadfull here? Thy. Of euerychone: what ende at length might I prouide of feare? In all he can he hateth me. Phy. to you what hurt can he? Thy. As for my ſelfe I nothing dread you litle Babes make mee Afrayde of him. Phy. dread, yee to be deguilde when caught yee are: To late it is to ſhoon the traytie in middle of the ſnare. But goe we on this (father) is to you my laſt requeſt. Thy. I follow you. I leade you not. Phy. God turne it to the beſt That well deuiſed is for good: paſſe farth with cherefull pace.
THE SECOND SCENE. Atreus, Thyeſtes. ENtrapt in trayne the beaſt is caught and in the ſnare doth fall: Both him, and eke of hated ſtocke with him the ofſpryng all, About the fathers ſyde I ſee: and nowe in ſaufety ſtands And ſureſt ground my wrathfull hate: nowe comes into my hands At length Thyeſtes: yea hee comes and all at once to mee. I ſcant refrayne my ſelfe, and ſcant may anger brydled bee. So when the Bloudhound feekes the beaſt, by ſtep and quick of ſent Drawes in the leame, and pace by pace to wynde the wayes hee went, With noſe to ſoyle doth hunt, while he the Boare aloofe hath founde Farre of by ſent, he yet refraynes and wanders through the grounde With ſilent mouth: but when at hand he once perceiues the pray, With all the ſtrength he hath he ſtriues, with voyce and calls away His lingring maiſter, and from him by force out breaketh hee. When Ire doth hope the preſent bloud, it may not hydden bee. Yet let it hydden be. beholde with vgly hayre to ſight How yrkeſomely deform'de with filthe his fowleſt tace is dight, How lothſome lyes his Brarde vnkempt: but let vs friendſhip fayne. To ſee my brother me delights: geue now to me agayne Embracing long deſyred for: what euer ſtryfe there was Before this time betwene vs twayne, forget and let it pas: Fro this day forth let brothers loue, let bloud, and lawe of kinde Regarded be, let all debate be ſlakte in eythers mynde. Thy. I coulde excuſe my ſelfe, except thou wert as now thou art. But (Atreus) now I graunt, the faulte was myne in euery part: And I offended haue in all, my cauſe the worſe to bee, Your this dayes kindnes makes: in deede a guilty wight is hee, That would ſo good a brother hurt as you, in any whit. But now with teares I muſt entreate, and firſt I me ſubmit. Theſe handes that at thy feete doe lye, doe thee beſeeche and pray, That yre and hate be layde aſide, and from thy boſome may Be ſcraped out: and cleere forgot. for pledges take thou theſe O brother deere, theſe guiltles babes. Atr. thy hands yet from my kneeſe Remoue, and rather me to take in armes, vpon me fall And yee O aydes of elders age, yee litle infants all, Mee clyp and coll about the necke: this fowle attyre forſake, And ſpare myne eyes that pity it, and freſher veſture take Lyke myne to ſee. and you with ioy, the halfe of emperie Deere brother take: the greater prayſe ſhall come to mee thereby, Our fathers ſeate to yelde to you, and brother to rel eue. To haue a kingdome is but chaunce, but vertue it to geeue. Thy. A iuſt reward for ſuch deſerts, the Gods (O brother deare) Repay to thee: but on my head a regall crowne to weare, My lothſome lyfe denyes: and farre doth from the ſceptor flee My hand vnhappy: in the mydſt let leefull be for mee Of men to lurke. Atre. this kingdome can with twayne full well agree. Thy. What euer is (O brother) yours, I count it myne to bee. Atr. Who would dame fortunes gifts refuſe, if ſhee him eyſe to raigne? Thy. The gyfts of hir eche man it wotes, how ſoone they paſſe againe. Atr. Yee me depryue of glory great, except yee th'empyre take. Thy. You haue your prayſe in offring it, and I it to forſake. And full perſwaded to refuſe the kingdome, am I ſtill. Atre. Except your part yee will ſuſteine myne owne forſake I will. Thy. I take it then. and beare I will the name thereof alone: The ryghts and armes, as well as myne they ſhall be yours eche one. Atre. The regall crowne as you beſeemes vpon your head then take: And I th'appoyncted ſacrifice for Gods, will now goe make. Chorus. WOulde any man it weene? that cruell wight Atreus, of mynde ſo impotent to ſee VVas ſoone astonied with his brothers ſight, Mo greater force then pietye may bee: VVhere kynred is not, lasteth euery threat, VVhom true loue holdes, it holdes eternally. The vvrath but late vvith cauſes kyndled great All fauour brake, and did to battayle cry, VVhan horſemen did reſouude one euery ſyde, The ſwoordes eche vvhere, then glyſtred more & more: VVhich raging Mars vvith often ſtroke did guide The freſher bloud to shed yet thyrsting ſore. But loue the ſworde agaynst theyr vvills doth ſwage, And them to peace perſwads vvith hand in hand. So ſodeyne reſt, amid ſo great a rage VVhat God hath made? throughout Mycenas land The harneſſe clynkt, but late of cyuill ſtrife: And for their babes did fearefull mother quake, Her armed ſpouſe to leeſe much fearde the vvyfe, VVhen ſworde vvas made the ſcabberde to forſake, That now by rest vvith rust vvas ouergrowne. Some to repayre the vvalles that did decay, And ſome to ſtrength the towres halfe ouerthrowne, And ſome the gates vvith gyns of Yrne to ſtay Full buſie vvere, and dredfull vvatch by nyght From turret high did ouerlooke the towne. VVocrſe is then warre it ſelfe the feare of fight. (Nowe are the threats of cruell ſworde layde downe, And nowe the rumour whiſts of battayles ſowne, The noyſe of crooked trumpet ſilent lyes, And quiet peace returnes to ioyfull towne. So when the waxes of ſwelling ſurge aryſe, VVhyle Corus wynde the Brutian ſeas doth ſmight, And Scylla ſoundes from hollowe Caues within, And Shipmen are with wafting waues affright, Charybdis caſts that erſt it had drunke in: And Cyclpos fierce his father yet doth dred, In AEtna banke that feruent is with heates, Leaſt quenched be with waues that ouershed The fire that from eternall Fornace beates: And poore Laërtes thinkes his kyngdomes all May drowned be, and Ithaca doth quake: If once the force of wyndes begin to fall, The ſea lyth downe more mylde then ſtanding lake. The deepe, where Ships ſo vvyde full dredfull vvere To paſſe, vvith ſayles on eyther ſyde out ſpred Now fallne adowne, the leſſer Boate doth beare: And leyſure is to vewe the fyſhes ded Euen there, vvhere late vvith tempeſt bet vpon The ſhaken Cyclades vvere vvith Seas agast. No ſtate endures the payne and pleaſure, one To other yeldes, and ioyes be ſooneſt past. One howre ſets vp the thinges that lowest bee. Hee that the crownes to prynces doth deuyde, VVhom people pleaſe with bending of the knee. And at whoſe becke theyr battayles lay aſide The Meades, and Indians eke to Phebus nye, And Dakes that Parthyans doe with horſemen threat, Him ſelfe yet holdes his Sceptors doubtfully. And men of might he feares and chaunces great (That eche estate may turne) and doubtfull howre. Oyee, vvhom lorde of lande and vvaters wyde, Of Lyfe and death grauntes here to haue the powre, Lay yee your proude and lofty lookes aſide: VVhat your inferiour feares of you amis. That your ſuperiour threats to you agayne. To greater kyng, eche kyng a ſubiect is. VVhom dawne of day hath ſeene in pryde to raygne, Hym ouerthrowne hath ſeene the euening late. Let none reioyce to much that good hath got, Let none diſpayre of beſt in vvorſt estate. For Clotho myngles all, and ſuffreth not Fortune to ſtande: but Fates about doth driue. Such friendship finde wyth Gods yet no man myght, That he the morowe might be ſure to lyue. The God our things all toſt and turned quight Rolles with a whyrle wynde.
THE FOVRTHE ACTE. Meſſenger. Chorus. WHat whirlwynde may me headlong dryue and vp in ayre mee fling, And wrap in darkeſt cloude, whereby it might ſo heynous thing, Take from myne eyes? O wicked houſe that euen of Pelops ought And Tantalus abhorred bee. Ch. what new thing haſt thou brought? Me. What lande is this? lythe Sparta here and Argos, that hath bred So wicked brethern? and the ground of Corinth lying ſpred Betweene the ſeas? or Iſter elſe where woont to take their flight, Are people wylde? or that which woonts with ſnowe to ſhyne ſo bright Hircana lande? or els doe here the wandring Seythians dwell? Ch. What monſtrous miſchiefe is this place then guilty of? that tell, And this declare to vs at large what euer be the ill. Me. If once my mynde may ſtay it ſelfe, and quaking limmes I will. But yet of ſuch a cruell deede before myne eyes the feare. And Image walkes: yee raging ſtormes now far from hence me beare And to that place me drtue, to which now driuen is the day Thus drawen from hence. Ch. Our myndes yee holde yet ſtill in doubt: full ſtay. Tell what it is yee ſo abhorre. The author thereof ſhowe. I aſke not who, but which of them that quickly let vs know. Me. In Pelops Turret high, a part there is of Pallece wyde That towarde the ſouth erected leanes, of which the vtter ſyde With equall top to mountayne ſtantes, and on the City lies, And people proude agaynſt theyr prynce if once the traytors riſe Hath vnderneath his batiring ſtroke: there ſhynes the place in ſight Where woont the people to frequent, whoſe golden beames ſo bright The noble ſpotted pillers gray, of marble doe ſupporte, Within this place well knowen to men, where they ſo oſt reſorte, To many other roomes about the noble court doth goe. The priuie Palaice vnderlieth in ſecret place alos, With ditch ful deepe that doth encloſe the wood of priuiter, And hidden parts of kyngdome olde: where neuer grew no tree That chereful bowes is woont to beare, with knife or lopped be, But Taxe, and Cypreſſe, and with tree of Ho me ful blacke to ſee Doth becke and bende the wood ſo darke: alofte aboue all theeſe The higher oke doth ouer looke, ſurmounting all the treeſe. From hens with lucke the raigne to take, accuſtom'd are the kyngs, From hens in daunger ayd to aſke, and doome in doubtfull things. To this affixed are the gifts, the ſounding Trumpets bright, The Chariots broke, and ſpoyles of ſea that now Mirtôon hight, There hang the wheeles once won by crafte of falſer axel tree, And euery other conqueſts note, here leefullis to ſee The Phrygian tyre of Pelops head: the ſpoyle of enmies heere, And of Barbarian triumphe left, the paynted gorgeous geere. A lothſome ſpringe ſtands vnder ſhade, and ſlouthfull courſe doth take, With water blacke: euen ſuch as is: of yrkeſome Stygian lake The vgly waue whereby art wont, to ſweare the gods on hye. Here all the night the griſly ghoſts and gods of death to erie The fame reportes: with clinkyng chaynes reſoūds the wood ech where The ſprights cry out and euery thinge that dredfull is to heare, May there bee ſeene: of vgly ſhapes from olde Sepulchres ſent A frarefull ſlocke doth wander there, and in that place frequent Worſe things then euer yet were knowwne: ye all the wood full afce With flame is woont to flaſh, and all the higher trees alofte Without a fyre do burne: and ofte the wood beſide all this With triple barkyng roares at once: ful oft the palaice is Affright with ſhapes, nor lighte of day may on the terrour quell. Eternall night doth hold the place, and darknes there of hell In mid day raignes: from hens to them that pray out of the ground The certayne anſwers geuen are, what tyme with dredful ſound From ſecret place the fates be tolde, and dungeon roares within While of the God breakes out the voyce: whereto when entred in Fierce Atreus was, that did wyth him his brothers children trayle, Dekt are the aulters: wh (alas) may it enough bewayle? Behynde the infants backs anone he knyt theyr noble hands, And eke theyr heauy heads about he bound with purple bands: There wanted there no Frankenfence, nor yet the holy wine, Nor knyfe to cut the ſacrifice, beſprinkt with leuens fine, Kept is in all the order due, Icaſt ſuch a miſchiefe gret Should not be ordred well. Ch. who doth his hand on ſword then ſet? Mc. He is him ſelfe the prieſt, and he himſelfe the deadly verſe With prayer dyre from feruent mouth doth ſyng and oft reherſe. And he at th'aulters ſtands himſelfe, he them aſſygn'de to dye Doth handle, and in order ſet, and to the knyfe applye, He lights the fyres, no rights were left of ſacrifice vndone. The woode then quakt, and all at once from trembling grounde anone The Pallace beckt, in doubt which way the payſe thereof woulde fall, And ſhaking as in waues it ſtoode: from th'ayre and therewithall A blaſing ſtarre that fouleſt trayne drew after him doth goe: The wynes that in the fyres were caſt, with chaunged licour floe, And turne to bloud: and twyſe or thryſe th'attyre ſell from his hed, The Iuerye bright in Temples ſeem'de to weepe and teares to ſhed. The ſights amas'de all other men, but ſtedfaſt yet alway Of mynde, vnmoued. Atreus ſtands, and euen the Gods doth fray That threaten him and all delay forſaken by and by To th' aulters turnes, and there withwall a ſyde he lookes awry. As hungry Tygre wonts that doth in gangey woods remayne With doubtfull pace to range & roame betweene the bullocks twayne, Of eyther pray full-couetous and yet vncertayne where She fyrſt may byte, and roaring throate now turnes the tone to teare And then to th'other ſtrayght returnes, and doubtfull famyne holdes: So Atreus dyre, betwene the babes doth ſtand and them beholdes On whom he poynctes to ſlake his yre: firſt ſtaughter where to make, Hee doubts: or whom he ſhoulde agayne for ſecond offring take, Yet ſkills it nought, but yet he doubtes and ſuch a cruelty It him delightes to order well. Ch. Whom take he ſyrſt to dy? Me. Firſt place, leaſt in him thinke yee might no piere to remayne To graundſier dedicated is, fyrſt Tantalus is ſlayne. Ch. With what a minde & count'nace, could ye boy his death ſuſtayne? Me. All careles of him ſelfe he ſtoode, nor once he would in vayne His prayers leeſe. But Atreus fierce the ſword in him at laſt In deepe and deadly wound doth hide to hilts, and gryping faſt His throate in hād, he thruſt him through. The ſword thē drawne away When long the body had vphelde it ſelfe in doubtfull ſtay. Which way to fall, at length vpon the vnckle downe it falles. And then to th'aulters cruelly Philiſthenes he tralles, And on his brother throwes: and ſtrayght his necke of cutteth hee. The Carcaſe keadlong falles to ground: a piteous thing to ſee. The mourning head with murmure yet vucertayne doth complayne. Chor. What after double death doth he and ſlaughter then of twayne? Spares he the Child? or gilt on gilt agayne yet heayeth he? Mess. As long maynd Lyon ſcerce amid the wood of Armenie, The droue purſues and conqueſt makes of ſlaughter many one, Though now defyled be his tawes with bloud and hunger gone Yet ſlaketh not his yreful rage with bloud of Bulles ſo great, But ſlouthful now with weary tooth the leſſer Calues doth threat: None other wyſe doth Atreus rage, and ſwelles with anger ſtraynd, And holding now the ſword in hand, with double ſlaughter ſtayud, Regarding not where fell his rage, with curſed hand vnmild He ſtrake it through his body quite, at bosome of the Child The blade goeth in, and at the backe agayne out went the ſame, He falles and quenching with his bloud the aulters ſacred flame, Of eyther wound at length he dieth. Chor. O'heynous hateful act. Mess. Abho re ye this? ye heare not yet the end of all the fact, There followes more. Cho. A fiercer thing, or worſe then this to ſee Could Nature beare? Me. why thinke ye this of gylt the end to be? It is but part. Cho. what could he wore? to cruel beaſtes he caſt Perhappes their bodyes to be torne, and kept from fyres at laſt. Me. Would God he had: that neuer tombe the dead might ouer hyde, Nor flames diſſolue, though them for food to foules in paſtures wyde He had out throwen, or them for pray to cruell beaſtes would flinge. That which the worſt was wont to be, were here a wiſhed thing, That them their father ſaw vntowbd: but oh more curſed crime Uncredible, the which denye will men ef after tyme: From boſomes yet aliue out drawne the trembling bowels ſhake, The vaynes yet breath, the ſcareful hart doth yet both pant and quakes But he the ſtringes doth turne in hand, and deſtenies beholde, And of the guttes the ſygnes each one doth vewe not fully cold. When him the ſacrifyce had pleaſo, his diligence ē puttes To dreſſe his brothers banquet now: and ſtreight a fonder cuttes The bodyes into quarters all, and by the ſtoompes anone The ſhoulders wyde, and brawnes of armes be ſtrikes of euerythune. He layes abroad their naked limes, and cuts away the bones: The onely heads he kepes and handes to him committed once. Some of the guttes are broacht. and in the fyres that burne full oe They drop, the boyling Itcour ſome doth tomble to end froe In moorning cawderne: from the fleſh that ouerſtandes alorft The fyre doth flye, and ſkatter out and into chimney ofte Up heat agayne, and there conſtraynd by force to tary yet Unwilling burnes: the liuer makes great nopse vpon the ſpit, Nor eaſely wot I, if the fleſh, or fla ies they be that bry, But crye they do: the fyre like pitch it fumeth by an by: Nor yet the ſmake it ſelfe ſo ſad, like flithy miſte in ſight Aſcendeth vp as wont it is, nor takes his way vpright, But euen the Gods and houſe it doth with fylithy turne defiſe. O pacient Phoebus though from hence thou backeward flee the whyle, And in the midſt of heauen aboue doſt drowne the broken day, Thou fleeſt to late: the father eats his children, well away, And limmes to which he once gaue life, with curſed iaw doth teare. He ſhynes with oyntment ſhed ful ſweete all round about his heare, Replete with wyne; and aftentymes ſo curſed kynd of food His mouth hath held, that would not downe. but yet this one thing good In all thy yls (Thyeſtes) is that them thou doſt not knoe, And yet ſhal that not long andure, though Titan backward goe And chariots turne agaynſt himſelfe, to meete the wayes be went, And heauy night ſo heynous deede to keepe from ſight be ſent, And out of tyme from Eaſt aryſe, ſo foule a fact to hyde, Yet ſhall the whole at length be ſeene: thy ylles ſhall all be ſpide. Chorus. WHich way O Prince of landes and Gods on hie, At whoſe vpriſe eftſones of ſhadowd night All beawty fleeth, which way turnſt thou awrye? And draweſt the day in midſt of heauen to flight? Why doſt thou (Phoebus) hide from vs thy ſight? Not yet the watch that later howre bringes in, Doth Veſper warne the Starres to kindle light. Not yet doth turne of Heſpers whele begin To loaſe thy chare his well deſerued way. The trumpet third not yet hath blowen his blaſt Whyle toward the night beginnes to yeld the day: Great wonder hath of ſodayne ſuppers haſt The Plowman yet whoſe Oxen are vntierd. From woonted courſe of Heauen what drawes thee backs? What cauſes haue from certayne race conſpierd To turne thy horſe? do yet from dongeon black Of hollow hell, the conquerd Gyantes proue A freſh aſſaut? doth. Tityus yet aſſay VVith trenched hart, and wounded wombe to moue The former yres? or from the hil away Hath now Typhoeus wound his ſyde by might? Is vp to heauen the way erected hie Of phlegrey foes by mountaynes ſet vpright? And now doth Oſſa Pelion ouerlye? The wonted turnes are gone of day and night, The ryſe of Sunne, nor fall ſhal be no more, Au ora dowiſh mother of the light That wontes to ſend the horſes out before, Doth wonder much agayne returne to ſee. Her dawning light: ſhe wots not how to caſe The weary wheeles, nor manes that ſmoaking be Of horſe with ſweate to bathe amid the ſeas. Himſelfe vnwonted there to lodge likewiſe, Doth ſetting ſonne agayne the morning ſee, And now commaundes the darkenes vp to ryſe. Before the night to come prepared bee. About the Poale yet glowth no fyre in ſight. Nor light Moone the ſhades doth comfort yet What ſo it be, God graunt it be the night. Our hartes do quake with feare oppreſſed gret. And dreadfull are leaſt heauen and earth and all With fatall ruine ſhaken ſhall decay: And leaſt on Gods agayne, and men ſhall fall Disfigurde Chaos: and the land away The Seas, and Fyres, and of the glorious Skiſe The wandring lampes, leaſt nature yet ſhal hide. Now ſhall no more with blaſe of his vpriſe, The Lord of ſtarres that leades the world ſo wyde, Of Sommer both and Winter geue the markes. Nor yet the Moone with Phoebus flames that burnes, Shall take from vs by night the dreadful carkes, With ſwifter courſe or paſſe her brothers turnes, While compaſſe leſſe ſhe fets in croked race: The Gods on heaps ſhal out of order fall, And each with other mingled be in place. The wryed vvay of holy planets all, With path a ſlope that doth deuide the Zones. That beares the ſygnes, and yeares in courſe doth brynge, Shall ſee the ſtarres with him fall downe at ones. And he that firſt not yet vvith gentle ſpring, The temperate Gale doth geue to ſayles, the Ramme Shall headlong fall a dovvne to Seas agayne, Through vvhich he once vvith fearefull Hellen ſvvam. Next him the Bull that doth vvith horne ſuſtayne The ſyſters ſeuen with him ſhall ouerturne The twins and armes of croked Cancer all, The Lyon hoat that wontes the ſoyle to burne Of Hercules agayne from heauen ſhall fall. To landes once left the Virgin ſhall be throwne, And leueld payſe of balance ſway alow, And draw with them the ſtinging Scorpion downe. So likewyſe he that holdes in Theſſale bowe His ſwift wel fethred arrowes Chiron old, Shal breake the ſame and eke ſhal leſe his ſhotte And Capricorne that bringes the winter cold Shall ouerturne and breake the water pot VVho ſo thou be: and downe with thee to grounde, The laſt of all the ſygnes ſhal Piſces fall And monſters eke in ſeas yet neuer drounde, The water gulph ſhal ouerwhelme them all. And he which doth betwene each vrſa glyde, Lyke croked flood the ſlipper ſerpent twynde: And leſſer Beare by greater Dragons ſyde, Full cold with froſt congealed hard by kinde, And carter dull that ſlowly guides his waine Vnſtable ſhall Boòtes fall from hye. VVe are thought meete of all men whom agayn Should hugy heape of Chaos ouerly. And world oppreſſe with ouerturned maſſe The lateſt age now falleth vs vppon. VVith euil hap we are begot alas If wretches we haue loſt the ſight of ſonne, Or him by fraught enforced haue to flye Let our complayntes yet goe and feare be paſts He greedy is of life, that wil not die VVhen all the world ſhall end with him at laſt.
〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 THE FIFTE ACTE. Atreus alone. NOwe equall with the Starres I goe. beyond each other wight, With haughty heade the heauens aboue, and higheſt Poale I ſmite, The kingdome nowe, and ſeate I holde, where once my father raynd: I nowe lette goe the gods: for all my wil I haue obſaynde aoughe and well, ye euen enough for me I am acquit But why enough? I wil procede and fyl the father yet With bloud of his leaſt any ſhame ſhould me reſtrayne at all, The day is gone, go to therfore whyle thee the heauen doth call Would God I could agaynſt their wils yet hold the Goddes that flee And of reuenging diſh conſtrayne them witneſſes to bee: But yet (which wel enough is wrought) let it the father ſee. In ſpighte of al the drowned day I will remoue from thee The darkneſſe all, in ſhade wherof do lurke thy miſeryes. And gueſt at ſuch a banquet now to long he careles lyes, With mery face: now eate and drunke enough he hath at laſt T'ys beſt him ſelfe ſhould know his ylls ye ſeruauntes, all in haſt Vndoe the temple dores: and let the houſe bee open all: Fayne would I ſee, when loke vppon his childrens heads he ſhal What countenaunce he then would make, or in what woordes break out Would firſt his griefe, or how would quake his body round about With ſpright amaſed ſore: of all my worke the fruite were this I would him not a miſer ſee, but while ſo made he is, Behold the temple opened now doth ſhyne with many a light: In glitteryng gold and purple ſeate he ſitees hymſelfe vpright, And ſtaying vp his heauy head with wyne vppon his hand. He belcheth out, now chiefe of goddes in higheſt place I ſtand, And king of kinges: I haue my wiſh, and more then I could thinke. He filled is, he now the wyne in ſiluer volle doth drinke And ſpare it not: there yet remaynes a worſer draught for thee That ſprong out of the bodyes late of ſacrifyces three, Which wine ſhall hyde let the withall the hoordes be taken vp. The father (mingled with the wyne,) his childrens bloud ſhall ſup. That would haue bronke of myne. Behold he now beginnes to ſtrayne His voyce, and ſynges, nor yet for ioy his mynde be may refrayne,
THE SECONDE SCEANE Thieſtes alone OBeaten boſomes dullde ſo longe with woe, Laie down your cares, at length your greues relē Let ſorowe paſſe, and all your dread let goe, And fellow eke of fearefull baniſhment, Sad pouertye and ill in miſery The ſhame of cares, more whenſe thy fall thou haſte, Then whether ſkylles, great hap to him, from hye That falles, it is in ferety to be plaſt Beneath, and great it is to him agayne That preſt with ſtorme, or euylls feeles the ſmart, Of kyngedome loſte the payſes to ſuſtaine VVith necke vnbowde: nor yet detect of heart Nor ouercome, his heauy haps alwayes To beare vpright but now of carefull carkes Shake of the ſhowres, and of thy wretched dayes Away with all the myſerable markes. To ioyfull ſtate returne thy chearefull face. Put fro thy mynde the olde Thyeſtes hence. It is the woont of wight in wofull caſe, In ſtate of ioy to haue no confidence. Though better haps to them returned be, Thafflicted yet to ioy it yrketh ſore. VVhy calſt thou me abacke, and hyndreſt me This happy day to celebrate? wherefore Bidſt thou me (ſorrow) wepe without a cauſe. VVho doth me let with flowers ſo freſh and gay, To deeke my hayres? it lets and me withdrawes. Downe from my head the roſes fall away: My moyſted haire with oyntment ouer all, VVith ſodayne maſe ſtandes vp in wondrous wyſe, From face that would not weepe the ſtreames do fall. And howling cryes amid my wordes aryſe. My ſorrowe yet thaccuſtomd teares doth loue And wretches ſtil delyght to weepe and crye. Vnpleaſant playntes it pleaſeth them to moue: And floriſht fayre it likes with Tyrian die Their robes to rent, to waile it likes them ſtill For ſorrow ſendes (in ſigne that woes draw nic) The mind that wots before of after yll. The ſturdy ſtormes the ſhipmen ouer lye. VVhen voyd of wynd thaſſwaged ſeas do reſt. VVhat tumult yet or countenaunce to ſee Makſte thou mad man? at length a truſtful breaſt To brother gene, what euer now it be, Cauſeles, or els to late thou art a dred. I wretch would not ſo feare, but yet me drawes A trembling terrour: downe myne eyes do ſhed Their ſodayne teares and yet I know no cauſe, Is it a greefe, or feare? or els hath teares great ioy it ſelfe.
THE THIRDE SCEANE. Atreus. Thyeſtes. LEtte vs this daye with one conſente (O brother celebrate) This daye my ſceptors my confyrme, and ſtabliſh my eſtate. And faythfull bonde of peace and loue betwene vs ratifye. Thy. Enough with meate and eke with wyne, now ſatiſfyed am I. But yet of all my ioyes it were a great encreaſe to mee, If now about my ſyde I might my litle children ſee. Atr. Beleeue that here euen in thyne armes thy children preſent be. For here they are; and ſhalbe here, no part of them fro thee Sal be withheld: their loued lookes now geue to thee I wil, And with the heape of all his babes, the father fully fyll. Thou ſhalt be glutted feare thou not: they with my boyes as yet The ioyful ſacrifyces make at borde where children ſit. They ſhalbe cald, the frendly cup now take of curteſy With wyne vpfylde. Thy. of brothers feaſt I take ful willingly The fynal gyft, ſhed ſome to gods of this our fathers lande, Then let the reſt be dronke, what's this? in no wyſe wil my hand Obeye: the payſe increaſeth ſore, and downe myne arme doth ſway. And from my lippes the wafting wyne it ſelfe doth flye away, And in deceiued mouth, about my iawes it rūneth rounde. The table to, it ſelfe doth ſhake and leape from trembling ground. Scant burnes the fyre: the ayre it ſelfe with heauy chere to ſlght Forſooke of ſonne amaſed is betweene the day and night. What meaneth this? yet more and more of backward beaten ſkye The compas falles, and thicker myſt the world doth ouerly Then blackeſt darkenes, and the night in night it ſelfe doth hyde. All ſtarres be fled, what ſo it bee my brother God prouyde And ſoones to ſpare: the Gods ſo graunt that a l this teſtmpeſt fall On this vyle head: but now reſtore to me my childreu all, Atr. I wil, and neuer day agayne ſhal them from thee withdraw, Thy. What tumult tumbleth ſo my guttes, and doth my bowels gnaw? What quakes within, with heauy payſe I feele my ſelfe oppreſt, And with an other voyce then myne bewayſes my doleful breſt: Come nere my ſonnes, for you now doth thun happy father call: Come nere, for you once ſeene, this griefe would ſoone aſſwage & fall Whence murmure they? 〈◊〉 fathers at 〈◊〉 embrace them quickly now For here they are loe come to thee: doſt thou thy children know? Th. I know my brother: ſuch a gylt yet canſt thou ſuffet well O earth to beare? nor yet from hence to Stygian lake of hell Doſt thou both drowne thy ſelle and vs? nor yet with broaken ground Doſt thou theſe kingdomes and their king with Chaos rude confounde? Nor yet vprenting from the ſoyle the bowres of wicked land. Doſt thou Micenas ouerturne with Tantalus to ſtand, And aunciters of ours, if there in hel be any one, Now ought we both: now from the frames on eyther ſyde anone Of ground, all here and there rent vp out of thy boſome depe: Thy dens and dungons ſet abrode, and vs encloſed keepe, In bottome low of Acheront aboue our heds aloft Let wander all the gylty ghoſtes, with burning frete ful oft Let fyry Phlegethon that driues his ſands both to and fro To our confuſion ouer roon und vyolently flow O ſlothful ſoyle vnſhaken payſe vn •••• yet art thou? The Gods are ſled: Atr. but take to thee with ioy thy children now, And rather them enbrace: at length thy children all of thee So long wiſht for (for no delay there ſtandeth now in mee) Enioy and kiſſe embracing armes deuyde thou vnto three. Thy. Is this thy league? may this thy loue and fayth of brother bee? And dooſt thou ſo repoſe thy hate? the father doth not craue His ſonnes aliue (which might haue bene without thy gylt) to haue And eke without thy hate, but this doth brother brother pray: That them he may entoom be reſtore, whom ſee thou ſhalt ſtrayght waye, Be burnt: the father naught requires of thee that haue he ſhall, But ſoone forgoe Atr. what euer part r t of thy children all Remaynes, here ſhalt thou haue: and what remayneth not thou hoſt. Thy. Lye they in fieldes, a food out fleng for fleerug ſowles to waſt Or are they kept a pray, for wyld and brutiſh beaſten to eate? Atr. Thou haſt deaourd thy ſonnes and fyld thy ſelfe with wicked meat. Thy. Oh this is it that ſham'de the Gods and day from hence did dryue Turn'd back to eaſt, alas I wretch what waylinges may I geue? Or what complayntes? what woeful woordes may be enough for mee? Their heads cut of, and handes of torne, I from their bodres ſee, And wrenched ſeete from broken thighes I here behold agayn Tys this that greedy father could not ſuffer to ſuſtayne. In belly roll my bowels round, and cloaſed cryme ſo great Without a paſſage ſtryues within and ſeekes away to get. Thy ſword (O brother) leud to me much of my bloud alas It hath: let vs therwith make way for all my ſonnes to paſſe. Is yet the ſword from me withheld? thy ſelfe thy boſomes teare, And let thy breſtes reſound with ſtroakes: yet wretch thy hand forbeare And ſpare the deade: who euer ſaw ſuch miſchiefe put in proofe? What rude Heniochus that dwels by ragged coaſt aloofe, Of Caucaſus vnapt for men? or feare to Athens,, who Procuſtes wyld? the father I oppreſſe my children do And am oppreſt, is any meane of gylt or miſchiefe yet? Atr. A meane in miſchiefe ought to be when gylt thou doſt commit, Not when thou quytſt: for yet euen this to litle ſeemes to me. The blood yet warme euen from the wound I ſhould in ſight of thes Euen in thy lawes haue ſhed, that thou the bloud of them mightſt drinke That lyued yet: but whyle to much to haſt my hate I thinke My wrath beguyled is my ſelfe with ſword the woundes them gaue I ſtrake them downe, the ſacred fyres with ſlaughter vowde I haue Wel pleaſo, the carcaſe cutting then, and liueles lymmes on grounde. I haue in litle parcels chopt, and ſome of them I brounde In boyling cauderns, ſome to fyres that burnte ful ſlow I put, And made to droppe: their ſynewes all, and limmes a two I cut Euen yet alyue and on the ſpitte, that thruſt was through the ſame I harde the liuer wayle and crye, and with my hand the flame: I otf kept in: but euery whit the father might of this Haue better done, but now my wrath to lightly ended is. He rent his ſonnes with wicked gumme, himſelfe yet wotting naught. Nor they therof Th. O ye encloaſ'd with bending bankes abought All ſeas me heare, and to this gylt ye Gods now harken well What euer place ye fled are to here all ye ſprites of hel, And here ye landes, and night ſo darke that them doſt ouerly With clowde ſo blacke to my complayntes do than thy ſelfe apply. To thee now left I am, thou doſt alone me miſer ſee, And thou art left without thy ſtarres: I wil not make for me Peticions yet, nor ought for me require may ought yet bee That me ſhould vayle? for you ſhal all my wiſhes now foreſee. Thou guyder great of ſkyes aboue, & prince of higheſt might, Of heauenly place now all with cloudes ful horrible to ſight, Enwrap the worlde, and let the wyndes on euery ſyde breake out: And send the dredfull thunder clap through al the world about Nor with what hand thou gyltes houſe and vndeſerued wall With leſſer bolt are wonte to beate, but with the which did fall The three vnheaped mountaynes once and which to hils in height Stoode equall vp, the gyantes huge: throuw out ſuch weapons ſtreight, And flyng thy fires: and therwithall reuenge the drowned day. Let flee they flames, the light thus loſt and hid from heauen away, With flaſhes fyll: the cauſe (leſt long thou ſhouldſt doubte whom to hit) Of ech of vs is ill: if not at leaſt let myne be it. Me ſtrike with tryple edged toole thy brande of flaminge fyre. Beate through this breaſt: if father I my children to deſyre To lay in tombe or corpſes caſt to fyre as doth behoue, I muſt be burnt if nothing now the gods to wrath may moue, Nor powre from ſkies with thunder bolt none ſtrikes the wicked men Let yet eternall night remayne, and hyde with darknes then The world about: I, Titan naught complayne as now it ſtandes If ſtil thou hyde thee thus away. Atre. now prayſe I well my handes. Now got I haue the palme. I had bene ouercome of thee, Except thou ſorrow'dſt ſo but now euen children borne to mee I compt and now of bridebed chaſt the ſayth I do repayre, Thy. In what offended haue my ſous: Atr. In that, that thyne they were Thy. Setſt thou the ſonnes for fathers foode? Arr. I do & (which is beſt) The certayne ſonnes, Thy. The gods that guyde all infantes I proteſt. Atr. What wedlock gods? Th. who would the gilt wt gylt ſo quite again? Atr. I know thy greefe preuented now with wrong thou doſt complayne: Nor this thee yrkes, that ſed thou art with food of curſed kind, But that thou hadſt not it prepared for ſo it was thy mynd, Such meates as theſe to ſet before thy brother wotting naught, And by the mothers helpe to haue, likewyſe my children caught: And them with ſuch like to ſlay: this one thing letted thee, Thou thought'ſt them thine. Thy. the gods ſhall al of this reuengers be And vnto them for vengeance due my vowes thee render ſhall Atr. But vext to be I thee the whyte, geeue to thy children all.
THE FOVRTH SCENE, Added to the Tragedy by the Tranſlatour. Thyeſtes alone. O Kyng of Dytis dungeou darke, and g yſty Ghoſts of hell, That in the deepe and dre adfull Denne, of blackeſt Tarrace dwell. Where leane and pale dyſeaſes lye where feare and ſamyne are, Where discord ſtands with bleeding browes, where euery kynde of care, Where furies fight in beds of ſteele, and heares of crauling ſnakes, Where Gorgon grimme, where Harpyes are, & lothſome Lymbo lakes, Where moſt prodigious vgly thinges, the hollowe hell doth byde. If yet a mouſter more myſhapt then all that there doe hyde, That makes his broode his curſed foode, yee all abhorre to ſee, Nor yet the deepe Auerne it ſelfe, may byde to couer mee, Nor griſly gates of Putoes place, yet dare them ſelues to ſpred, Nor gaying grounde to ſwallowe him, whom Gods and day haue ſled: Yet breake yee out from curſed ſeates, and heere remayne with mee, Yee neede not now to be affrayde, the Ayre and Heauen to ſee. Nor triple headed Cerberus, thou needſt not bee affryght, The day vnknowne to thee to ſee or els the lothſome lyght. They both be ſled: and now doth dwell none other count'naunce heere, Then doth beneath the fowleſt face, of hatefull hell appeete. Come ſee a meeteſt match for thee, a more then monſtrous wombe, That is of his vnhappy broode, become a curſed tombe. Flocke here yee fowleſt flendes of hell, and thou O graundſyre greate, Come ſee the glutted guts of myne, with ſuch a kinde of meate, As thou didſt once for Gods prepare. Let torments all of hel Now fall vppon this hatefull head, that hath deſerude them well. Yee all be plagued wrongfully, your guiltes be ſmall, in ſight Of myne, and meete it were your pange on me alone ſhould light. Now thou O graundſter guiltleſſe arte, and meeter were for mee, With fleeing floud to be beguilde, and fruite of fickle tree. Thou ſlewſt thy ſonne, but I my ſonnes, alas, haue made my meate. I coulde thy famyne better beare, my paūch is now repleate With foode: and with my children three, my belly is extent. O filthy fowles and gnawyng gripes, that Tytius be ſome rent Beholde a fitter pray for you, to fill your ſelues vppone Then are the growing guts of him: foure wombes enwrapt in one. This paūche at once ſhall ſtll you all: if yee abhorre the foode, Nor may your ſelues abide to bathe, in ſuch a curſed bloode: Yet lend to me your clinching clawes, your pray a while forbeare, And with your tallons ſuffer mee, this monſtrous mawe to teare. Or whirling wheeles, with ſwinge of which Ixion ſtill is rolde, Your bookes vpon this glutten gorge, would catche a ſurer holde. Thou filthy floud of Lym bo lake, and S ygian poole ſo dyre, From chocked chanell belche abrode. Thou fearefull freate of fyre, Spue out thy flames O Phlegethon: and ouerſhed the grounde. With vomit of thy fyry ſtreame, let me and earth be drownde, Breake vp thou ſoyle from bottome deepe, and geue thou roome to hell, That night, where day, y ghoſts, where Gods were woōt to raigne, may dwel. Why gapſt thou not? Why do you not O gates of hell vnfolde? Why do yee thus thinfernall ſtendes, ſo long from hence withholde? Are you likewyſe affrayde to ſee, and knowe ſo wretched wight, From whom the Gods haue wryde theyr lookes, & turned are to flight? O hatefull head, whom heauen and hell, haue ſhoonde and left alone, The Sunne, the ſtarres, the light, the day, the Gods, the ghoſts be goue. Yet turne agayne yee Skyes a while, ere quight yee goe fro mee, Take vengeance fyrſt on him, whoſe faulte enforceth you to flee. If needes yee muſt your flight prepare, and may no longer bide, But rolle yee muſt with you forthwt, the Gods and Sunne a ſyde, Yet ſlowly flee: that I at length, may you yet ouertake, While wandring wayes I after you, and ſpeedy iorney make. By ſeas, by lands, by woods, by rocks, in darke I wander ſhall: And on your wrath, for right rewarde to due deſ rts, will call. Yee ſcape not fro me, ſo yee Gods, ſtill after you I goe, And vengeaunce aſke on wicked wight, your thunder bolte to throe. FINIS.
THE THYRD TRAGEDY OF L. ANN AEVS Seneca: entituled Thebais, tranſlated out of Latin into Engliſhe, by Thomas Newton. 1581. The Argument.

LAIVS King of Thebes, hadde by his Wyfe and Queene IOCASTA, a Sonne named OEDIPVS: Who being yet in his Mothers Wombe, APOLLO his Oracle pronounced, that by the handes of that childe, King LAIVS the father ſhould bee murthered. The feare whereof cauſed the King to commaūd him to be put to death. The Kinges heardman, who had the charge to ſee this done, on thone ſide mooued with compaſſion ouer a tender weakeling: and on the otherſide, afraid to incurre the King his maiſters diſpleaſure, contented himſelfe onely to boare two hoales through the Infants two feete, and with certayne plyable Twigges beinge thruſt through the ſame, hong him vp on a tree by the Heeles: ſuppoſing that heereby hee ſhould cōmit a leſſe crime in ſuffring the childe to periſhe by famine, then in playing the Butcher himſefe. It fortuned, that one PHORBAS heardman to POLYBIVS King of Corynth, paſſing by that way & hearing a yong Childe cyre, went and cut him downe, and caryinge him to Corynth, it ſo fell out that at length hee was giuen for a preſent or gyft to MEROPE, Wyfe to the ſaid King POLYBVS. This OEDIPVS afterward going to Thebes, in a certayne ſedicious hurly burly in the countrey there, vnawares and vnwitting ſlewe King LAIVS his Father. About which tyme the City of Thebes, and Countrey there about was meruelouſly infeſted with a monſter called Sphinx: who propounding a certaine Riddle, or obſcure queſtion to ſuch as paſſed that vvay, and deuouringe as many, as coulde not aſſoyle the ſame. To him that coulde aſſoile it and ſo rid the Countrey from that ſo vgly and daūgerous a monſter, the mariage of Queene IOCASTA, and the kingdome of Thebes was promyſed as a recompence: OEDIPVS after many others, taking the matter in hand, aſſoyled the Ryddle, & ſlew the mōſter. Whereupō marying the Queene, not knowing her to bee his owne Mother, had by her foure Chyldren: ETHEOCLES, POLYNICES, ANTIGONE, & ISMENE. In the end, hauing knowledg, how firſt hee had kylled his Father, and then inceſtuouſly maryed his Mother, hee forſooke his kingdome being continually infeſted wyth the plague, & (as one aſhamed to loke any man in theface) pulled out his own Eyes, and hid himſelfe in corners and ſolitary places. His Sonnes ETHEOCLES & POLYNICES agreed to raigne enterchaungeably, that is to wit, ETHEOCLES, one yeare, and POLYNICES the other. ETHEOCLES hauing raigned his yeare, refuſed according to the articles of agrement, to reſigne the Crowne to his brother for the next yeare. Whereupō they fel to mortal warres, and in the end meaning by combat to ende the matter, they mutually ſlew one the other. And note that this Tragedy, was left by the Authour vnperfect, becauſe it neyther hath in it, Chorus, ne yet the fifth Acte.

The names of the ſpeakers. OEdipus. Nuntius. Antigone. Iocasta.
THE FIRTE ACTE. OEdipus. Antigone. DEare Daughter, vnto Father blynde a Staffe of ſteady ſtay, To weary Syre, a comfort greate, and Guide in all his way: And whom to haue begotten, I may glad and ioyfull bee: Yet leaue me now, thy hapleſſe Syre, thus plungde in miſery. Why ſeekſt thou meanes, ſtill to direct my ſtalking ſteppes aright? Let mee I pray thee headlong ſlyde in breaknecke tumbling plight. I better ſhall and ſooner fynde a way my ſelfe alone To rid mee out of all the thrall wherein I now am throwne. Whereby both heauen ſhall eaſed bee, and earth ſhall want the ſight Of mee vile wretch, whom, guilt hath made a moſt abhorred wight. Alas, what litle triffling tricke hath hitherto bene wrought By theſe my hands? what feate of worth or maiſtry haue I ſought? In deede, they haue me helpt to pull myne eyes out of my head: So that ne Sunne, ne Moone I ſee, but life in darkneſſe lead. And though that I can nothing ſee, yet is my guilt and cryme Both ſeene and knowne, & poyneted at, (woe worth the curſed tyme.) Leaue of thy hold, let loſe thy hand, good daughter, let mee goe: Let foultring foote light where it will, let it (this once) be ſo. Ile trudge, and runne, Ile ſkudde, and raunge, Ile haſten to the hill Of craggy ſtiepe Cytheron, there I hope to worke my will. Where earſt Actaeon loſt his lyfe by ſtraunge, and vncouth death, Whom vawling Dogges, and hunting Hounds bereft of vitall breath: Where once Agaue (bedlemlike) raungd vp and downe the woode With Syſters hers, enſpired all with Bacchus raging moode. And pleaſing well her ſelfe in that her fact and miſchiefe donne, Pitcht on a Poale the griſly head of him that was her Sonne. Where Zethus with his ruffling Crew of Gallantes young and ſtoute Dragd, hald, and puld, the hateful corps of Dirce, all aboute. Where buſhie bloudied brambles ſhow which way the Bull her drew: Nere where dame Ino from a Rocke her ſelfe in Sea downe threw. So that poore mother though ſhe ment t'auoyde one fault by flight: Yet ſhe therby a worſe procu 'd, while like a ſ rly wight She bother ſelfe and eke her ſonne from Scyron hurled downe Entending both her ſelfe and him in foaming Sea to drowne. Oh happy, yea thryſe happy they, that had ſo good an bap: And whom ſuch mothers pitiful carſt daudled in theyr lap. Yea yet there is in theſe ſame woods an other place to mee Thats due by right, and rightly may me challenge as his fee. Where I am Infant out was layed, al Fortunes to abide: I thyther wil direct my courſe of try what may betyde. Ile neither ſtop ne ſtay til that I be arryued there, For guyde I recke not, neyther force for Stumbling any where. Why ſtay I thus like daſtard drudge to haſten vnto it? Sith wel I know it lotted is to be my graue and Pit? Let me myne owne Cytheron mount enioy in quiet ſtate, It is myne old and auncient bower, appoynted me by fate. I pray thee be not diſcontent that I ſhould (aged) die, Euen there, where life I ſhould haue loſt in pueling infancy. I yeild me heere with willing hart vnto thoſe tortures all That earſt to me were due, and which to others haue befall: To thee I ſpeake O bloudy mount, fierce, cruel, ſtyepe and fell, As well in that thou ſpareſt ſome, as that thou ſome doſt quell. This c rton corps, this ſinful ſoule, this carcaſſe here of myne Long tyme agone by right good Law and propertye is thine. Now yet at length perfourme the heſt that earſt enioyned was To thee by thoſe my parentes both, now bring their doome to paſſe. My hart euen longeth till I may ſ fully ſati •• y By this my death that their decree, that glad I am to die. Ah Daughter, Daughter, why wouldſt thou thus keepe mee gaynſt my mynd? In this ſo vile inceſtuous loue? thou art but now to kind. Oh ſtay me not I thee deſire, behold, behold, I heare My Fathers ghoſt to bidde me come apace, and not to feare. O Father myne I come, I come, now father ceaſſe thy rage: I know (alas) how I abuſ'd my Fathers hoary age: Who had to name King Laius: how hee doth fret and frye To ſee ſuch lewd diſparagement: a d none to blame but I. Wherby the Crowne vſurped is, and he by murther ſlayne. And Baſtardly inceſtuous broode in Kingly throne remayne. And lo , doſt thou not playnly ſee, how he my panting Ghoſt With raking pawes doth hale and pull, which grieues my conſcience moſt? Doſt thou not ſee how he my face beſcratcheth tyrant wyſe? Tel mee (my Daughter) haſt thou ſeene Ghoſtes in ſuch griefly guyſe? Antig I ſee & marke each thing ful well. Good father leaue this mind. And take a better if you can: from this your ſelfe vnwynd. Oed. O what a beaſtly cowardiſe is in this breaſt of myne? Was I ſo ſtout and venturous in pulling out myne Eyen? And ſhall all courage be employd agaynſt one onely part Of Body, and from other partes ſhall valour wholly ſtart? Let none of all theſe puling trickes nor any faint excuſe Thus daunt thy ſprites, let no delay to baſenes thee enduce: Diſpatch at once, why lingre I, as one thats loth to dye? Why liue I? iſt becauſe I can no longer miſchieues trye? Yes that I can, wretch though I be: and therfore tel I thee, Deare Daughter, that the ſooner thou mightſt hence depart from mee. Depart a mayd and Virgin hence, for feare of after claps: Since villany to Mother ſhewde, its good to doubt miſhaps. Anti. No force, no power, no violence, ſhall make me to withdraw My duty vnto thee my Syre, to whom I vow myne awe. I will not be diſſeuered, ne pulled from thy ſyde. I will aſſiſt thee, whyle that breath ſhal in this Breaſt abyde. My Brothers twayne let them contend, and fight for Princelye ſwaye Of wealthy Thebes: where whilom raignd King Labdacke many a day. The greateſt ſhare and portion that I do loke to haue Out of my Fathers Kingdome, is my Fathers lyfe to ſaue. Him neither ſhall Etheocles my elder brother take Away from mee, who now by force the Thebane realme doth rake. Ne Polynices, who as now is Muſtring men apace. From Argos Land: with ful entent his brother to diſplace. No, though y world went all on wheeles: though Ioue ſhould frō aboue Hurle flaſhing flakes vpon the Earth, all ſhall not quayle my loue. No, though his thumping thunderbolt (when wee togeather ſtand) Should light betweene vs, where as we are plighted hand in hand) Yet wil I neuer thee forſake, but held my handfaſt ſtill: Therefore its boateles father deare, to counter aund my will In this my full reſolued mynd. Forbid me if you pleaſe. But ſurely I will be your guide in weale, woe, dole, & caſe. And maugre al your ſharpe reprofes (though much againſt your mind) I wil direct your ſteppes and gate, that you your way may fynd: Through thick & thinne, through rough and ſmoth I wil be at an ynch In hill and dale, in wood & groue, Ile ſerue at eu'ry pinch. If that you goe where daunger lies, and ſeeke your owne annoy, You ſhall wel proue, that I to leade the daunce wil not be coy. Aduyſe your ſelfe therfore, of twayne to which I guyde ſhall be: My count is caſt, I am ful bent with you to liue and die. Without me periſh can you not: but with me, wel you may, It booteth not, in other ſort to moue me ought to ſaye. Here is an huyge Promontory that elboes into Sea Let vs from thence throw downe our ſelues, and worke our laſt decay, If that ye wil. Here alſo is a flinty Rocke beſyde, Which if you pleaſe ſhal ſerue our turnes: Heere beaten with the tyde Bee craggy Cliffes, let's goe to them: Here runnes a gulphy ſtreame With force afore it dryuing ſtones as bigge as mountaine beame. What ſay you? ſhall wee drench our ſelues within this fomy Flood? Goe where you wil, take which you liſt, do as you deeme it good. Conditionally that I may firſt receyue the wound of death: I recke no whit, I ready ſtand to yeld vp vitall breath. I neyther draw you to nor froe: but euen as beſt you thinke So doe, ſo deale. Would you ſo fayne Deathes bitter cup to drinke? My lord and Father, take you death ſo greate a boone to bee? If that you dye (this I aſſure) die firſt you ſhall me ſee. If life in ſhew more pleaſaunt ſeme, if ſo you rather chuſe, I am to wayte vpon you ſtill and neuer will refuſe. But chaunge this mynde wherein you reſt, take hart a grace, and ſhow The noble magnanimity that earſt in you did flow: Reſiſt theſe panges, ſubdue theſe dumpes by valour of the mynd, Let manly courage qualify theſe your affections blynd. Tis great diſhonor thus to yeeld your ſelfe to dolor thrall, No ſtorme of aduerſe hap thus ought a Princes hart t'appall. Oedip. This geare ſurmounteth far the reach of my capacity: I am aſtonn'd, I feele my ſelfe rapt with an extaſie, Is this not wonder of ſo lewd, and of ſo curſt a tree Such fruite to grow? of graceles Syre ſo good a child to ſee? Is it not ſtraunge that in a houſe diſtaynd in villany Such noble ſhew of towardnes and vertuous gyftes ſhould lye? Let me ſome ſpeach to thee direct, dame Fortune: how haps this That here my daughter ſo vnlike to wretched father is? Degenerating from his ſteps, and with ſuch vertue fraught, As in her Fathers curſed houſe ſhe neuer yet was taught? Is it (I pray thee) credible, that out of ie ſhould ſ ring Such yſſue, as ſhould geuen be to any honeſt thinge? No truely, no: it cannot bee (my fates ful well I know) None ſuch, (vnleſſe to doe me ſcart and miſchiefe) would be ſo. T'encreaſe the heape of myne annoy no ſtraunge effect ſhall want. Dame Nature in her Creatures wil new affectes emplant. The Ryuer ſhall returne his courſe to Fountayne backe agayne, Dan Phoebus Lamp ſhall bring the Night, and Night ſhal day remain, So that my grieuous miſeryes with ſurpluſage may grow. But be as tis: I for a whyle wil play my part alſo, And ſhew ſome ſparke of piety, my fault to counteruayle: With murtdroue knife, my woeful dayes to end I wil not fayle. The onely helpe for Oedipus, the onely ſafe y is To ridde himſelfe, and ſo redeeme that Helliſh fact of his. Let mee take vengeance on my ſelfe for wronges to father donne, Whoſe Death is yet vnexp ate, by mee his curſed ſonne. Why doſt thou ſhake and tremble thus thou hand, not good for ought? Why flaggreſt thou to ſtabbe him in, who Syre to ſpoyle hath brought? That puniſhment which hether o by pulling out myne eyes Thou haſt inflicted on me, is but as a ſacrifyce, Or guerdon due for villany which I committed haue With mother myne. Now Daughter ſloute, leaue of pretences braue, Alledge no g oſes: but with ſpeede let goe thy Fathers hand: Thou mak'ſt me die a lingring death within this loathed land. Thou thinkſt I am aliue, but I am dead long while agoe: To this my hateful Corps at length the rytes of Buriall ſhow. Thou meaneſt well, (I know) but yet therin thou doſt offend: Though colour for thy piety I ſee thou doſt pretend. But piety it canot be, to dragge thus vp and downe Thy Fathrs Corpes vnburied through City, Field, and Towne. For bee that doth enforce a man agaynſt his will to dye: And he that ſtayeth him that would fayne dye, moſt willingly, Are both alike in equall fault, and ſtand in egall plight. To hinder one that would be dead is m ••• h bring h n ou right. Yet not ſo great as thother is. I would be more content To haue my death commaunded me, then from me to be ent. Deſiſt from this thy purpoſe (Mayd) my lyfe and death both are To diſpoſe at my liberty, with choyſe to ſpill or ſpare, I willingly reſ gnd the Crowne of Thebane ſoyle: yet I Do ſtill retaine vpon my ſelfe the entyre Soueraygntye If I may make accompt of thee as of a truſty feare, And true compagnion at aſſayes: deliuer euen heere Into thy Fathers hand a Sweard: but tell me, doſt thou reach The Sword embrewd in fathers bloud, wherewith my ſonnes empeach The courſe of Law, poſſeſſing it and kingdome all by force? Where ſo it is doubt is there none, but cleane without remorſe There bee the F ••• dgates opned wyde, to al licencious luſt. And thriftleſſe trades: I al my clayme therein do rake in duſt, And cleane forſake. Let both my Sonnes by Legacy enioy The ſame, wherewith they ſurely ſhall contriue non ſmal annoy. For mee pyle rather vp a ſtacke of wood ſet all on fyre, That I therein may thruſt my ſelfe: that is my chiefe deſyre: And make an end at once of all this carrion Tarkaſſe vyle. Where is the ſurging wau •• s Sea? why ſtay I all this whyle? Bring mee to ſome ſtiepe breaknecke fall: bring me where Iſmene flood With ſwift and horned courſe doth run •• , bring me wheras my blood. With goaryng puſh of ſauage beaſtes may out be let at once. To ſome Gulfe bring me, where the fall and tide may cruſh my Bones. If needes thou wilt my guyde remayne, as oft thou doſt me tell) Bring me that am diſpoſ'd to dye, where Sphiox that Monſter fell With double ſhape appoſed them that paſſed by the way, Propounding Riddles intricate, and after did them ſlay. There would I bee, that place I ſeeke: thy Father thyther bring Into that Monſters Cabin dire thy Monſtrous Father fling. That though that Monſter be diſpatcht, the place may bee ſupplyde With one as badde or worſe then bee: there wil I farre and wyde In tearmes obſcure report and tell my heauy luckleſſe lot. The miſteries whereof the bearers, v derſtandeth not. Geue eare to that which I ſhal ſpeake, marke thou Aſſyrian borne, Conſider this thou Thebane, where Duke Cadmus men were torne And ſlayne in wood by Serpentes rage: where Dirce ſeely trull In humble ſort at Aulter lies: aduert my tale at full Thou, that in Lacedaemon dwelles, and honorſt Caſtors grace, And Pollux eake, two brethren twynnes. Fynd out this doubtful caſe. Or thou that dwelſt in Elis towne or by Parnaſſus hill, Or thou that till'ſt Baeotia ground, there reaping gayne at wil. Hearke, liſten well, and flatly ſay, if euer heretofore That murdrous monſter Sphinx of Thebes that men in peeces tore, In all his riddles aſkt the like, or of ſo ſtraunge a ſort? Or whether ſo inſolubly his termes he cold report? The Sonne in Lavv to Graundfather, the Riual of his Syre: The Brother of his litle Babes: to Brethren, father dire: The Graundmother at euery byrth to Huſband (graceles Elfe) Brought forth a Sonne or Daughter, vvhich vvas Nephevv to her ſelfe. How ſay you Syrs, in Ryddle darke, who hath ſo good inſight, That able is the ſenſe hereof t'vnfold and tell aryght? As for my ſelfe, although the Sphinx I whylome put to foyle: Yet myne owne heauy deſtenie I ſcarcely can aſſoyle. Why doſt thou (Daughter) labour looſe in vſyng further ſpeech? To alter this my ſtony hart why doſt thou mee beſeech? I tel thee playne. I fully meane this bloud of mynt to ſpill. That long with Death hath ſtruggling kept: and thereupon I will Deſcend to darke infernall Lake: for this ſame darknes blynd Of both myne eyes is nothing ſuch, as fact of myne ſhould fynd. It were my Bliſſe to bee in Hell in deepeſt dungeon faſt: Now that which ſhould long ſince haue bene, I wil perfourme at laſt. I cannot be debard from Death: wilt thou deny me glaue Or Sword, or knife? wilt thou no toole for miſchiefe let me haue? Wilt thou both watch and ward each way, where daūger lies in wayte? Shall ſuch a ſinful Caytife wretch as I, be kepe ſo ſtraite? Wilt thou not ſuffer me with Coard to breake my hatefull Necke? Canſt thou kepe mee from poyſonous herbes? haſt thou them al at beck? What ſhall it thee preuayle to take for mee ſuch earneſt care? Death ech where is: and wayes to death in thouſand corners are. Herein hath God good order tane, that euery felie Foe, May take away an others life, but Death hee cannot ſo. I ſeeke not anye toole to haue: this deſprate mynd of myne Can vſe the ſeruice of my hand, my threede of lyfe t'vntwine. Now hand, thy maiſter at a pinch aſſiſt to worke his feate, Helpe him with all thy power and ſtrength, t'exployt his purpoſe great. I poynt thee not in this my Corps vnto one place alone: Alas, each part of me with guilt is plaunch and ouergrowne. In which ſoeuer part thou wilt, thy Maſſacre beginne, And ſeeke to bring me to my death which way thou mayſt it winne. In pieces cruſh this body all, this hart that harbors ſinne Pluck out, out all my entrailes pull, proceede, and neuer linne To gaſh and cut my wezand pype. My vaynes aſender ſcratch, And make the Bloud come ſpowting out, or vſe that other match, Which heretofore thou vſed haſte: digge where myne eyes earſt ſtood: And let theſe woundes guſh out apace much mattry filth and blood. Hale o t of mee this loathed ſoule that is ſo hard and ſtout: And thou deare father Laius ſtand vp and looke about: Behold where euer that thou ſtandſt: I Vmpyre doe the make, And eyed Iudge of all my plagues that iuſtly heere I take. My Fact ſo lewde, ſo horrible, ſo loathſome to bee tolde I neuer thought with any pryce or tormentes manifolde Could haue full expiation: ne thought I it inough To die this death: or in one part to be beſlaſſhed through. By piecemeale I am well content to ſuffer tormentes all And euen by piecemeale for to die: for plagues to plague mee call. Exact the puniſhment that's due: I heere moſt ready ſtand To ſatiſ e with any death that law and righte hath ſcand. My former ſmartes, when as mine eyes I raked out with pawes, Were but as taſtes of ſacrifice, ſomewhat to helpe my cauſe. Come therefore (Father) neare to mee, and thruſt this hand of myne More nearer into euery wound. It ſw ru'de and did decline For feare, when firſt it tooke th'aſſay mine eyes to ranſacke out. I beare it ſtill in memory, my eyes then ſtar'de about And ſeemed to diſſwade the hand from doing of the charge Whereto it was enioyned tho, and had Commiſſion large. Thou ſhalt well thinke that OEdipus diſſembleth not a whit But what his word hath warranted, his deede hath firmely quit. Thy ſtoutnes then, was not ſo great when eyes thou pulledſt out As was thy man a oden, when thou threwſt them from thee round about. Now, by thoſe Gyeholes thruſt thy hand into the very braine: That part where death attempted was, let death be ſought againe. AN. Vndaunted Prynce, muſt noble Syre, with humble mynde. I ſue That I your Daughter may be bolde to vſe ſome ſ eech to you: And that you would with patience digeſt my poore duiſe: My ſuite is not to draw your minde to thinges, that earſt in price You highly 〈◊〉 , me to the view of glittring Pallace olde Ne brauery of your noble Realme, ſcarce able to ee tolde: But that you would theſe yrefull fittes, by trace of time now quaild, W th patient minde ſuſtayne and beare: this vertue neuer faylde I any Prynce of ſuch a ſpright as in your noble Grace Appeareth bryght: it ſ •• th not that ſuch ſhould once abaſe Themſelues as thralles to Sorrowes checke 〈◊〉 the conqueſt yeelde To a uerſe 〈…〉 lyke 〈…〉 It is no prayſe, ſyr, though perhappes you ſo your reckening caſt To make of lyfe ſo ſmall accoumpt, and thus to bee agaſt At euery wagging of a leafe, and comberſome myſchaunce: No, no, tis vertue in ſuch caſe high courage to aduaunce. And when thinges are at worſt, to ſhew true magnani •• itie: Not lyke a Meycocke, cowardly at eche alarme to flee. Hee that hath tride all fortunes ſpight and worldly wealth deſpiſde, And conſtantly hath borne all bruntes that are to be deuiſde, Mee thinks no cauſe hath, why he needes to ende his b eething ayes O wiſh himſelfe in graue: for why, ſtarcke crauens vſe ſuch wayes. But as for him, thats drencht in dole and wrapt in carking care, Whoſe penſius plight can be no worſe, nor taſt of ſowrer fare, That man hath cauſe well pleaſ •• to be: ſith hee in ſafety ſtandes, And pykes hath paſt, and now is free from feare of further bandes. Put caſe the Gods would wra e the webbe of further woe to thee, What more can any of them doe thy grieues to amplifie? Nay, thou thy ſelfe, (although thou wouldſt) canſt adde thereto no more, Vnleſſe thou thinke thy ſelfe, to haue deſerued death therefore. And yet, thou arte not worthy death: my reaſon is, becauſe Through ignoraunce thou didſt a fact contrary to the lawes. And therefore Father thinke your ſelfe moſt guiltleſſe in the caſe, And (maugre Gods) ſtand on your guarde, my counſell ſound embrace: For doubtleſſe you an innocent are deem'de and thought to bee, And are in deede: what makes you thus in dumpes and dolefull glee? What cauſe ſo great ſhould ſo enchaunt your conſcience, and your wits, To ſeeke your owne decay and ſpoyle? what meane faint hearted fits? That thus in haſt you would ſo faine abandon this your lyfe And goe to hell, where torment dwelles and griſly ghoſtes be ryfe. You would not ſee Sun, Moone, ne Starre: no more you can: your eyes Are blynd: you faine would leaue your Court, and Countries miſeries. Why ſo you may, and ſo you doe. Theſe all are put to ſacke, That now alyue, aſwell as dead you feele of theſe the lacke. You flee from Mother, Wyfe, and C ylde, you ſee no man lyue: What more can death diſpatch away but life doth now depriue? your lords, your knights, your courtly traine, your kingly ſtate & crowne Your graund Affaires, your waighty charge is gone & brought abowne. From whom, frō what, do you thus flee. OEdi. Frō none but frō my ſelfe Who haue a breaſt full fraught with guilte: who, wretched caitiffe Elte Haue all embrude my hands with bloud. From theſe apace I flee And from the heauens and Gods therein: and from that villanie Which I moſt wicked wretch haue wrought. Shall I treade on thys ground? Or am I worthy ſo to doe, in whom ſuch trickes abound? Am I to haue the benefite of any Element? Of Ayre for breath, of water moyſt, or Earth for nouriſhment? O Slaue forlorne, O beaſtly wretch, O Inceſtmonger vyle, O Varlet moſt deteſtable, O Peyſaunte full of guile. Why doe I with polluted Fyſt, and bloudy pawes preſume To touch thy chaſt and comely hand? I foame, I fret, I fume In hearing any ſpeake to mee. Ought I heare any tell Or once of Sonne or Father ſpeake, ſyth I did Father quell? Would God it were within my power my Senſes all to ſtop, Would God I could theſe Eares of myne, euen by the ſtumps to crop. If that might bee, then (daughter) I ſhould not haue heard thy voyce. I, I thy Syre, that thee be got by moſt inceſtuous choiſe. Beegetting of thee, makes my crymes moe then they were before: Remorſe thereof both gnaw and grype my conſcience more and more. Ofttymes that which myne Eyes not ſee, with Eares that doe I heare, And of my Facts afore time done the inward wound I beare. Why is there ſtay made of my doome? Why am I ſpard ſo long? Why is not this blind head of myne throwne damned ghoſts among? Why reſt I on the Earth, and not among infernall Sprightes? Why peſter I the company of any mortall Wightes? What myſchiefe is there more behind? to aggrauate my care? My Kingdome, Parents, Children, Wit and Vertue quayled are By ſturdy ſtormes of froward Fate: nothing remaynde but teares, And they bee dryde, and Eyes be gon: my hardned heart forbeares Such ſignes of grace: leaue of therefore, and make no more adde: A minde ſo mated with diſpayre no ſuytes will ſlowpe vnto. I practize ſome ſtraunge puniſhments agreeing to my deede: But what proportion can bee found of plagues vnto my meede? Whoſe Fortune euer was ſo bad? I was in ſooner borne, But ſeely Infant Iudgde I was in peeces to be torne. My mother in whoſe wombe I lay, forth had not mee yet brought And yet euen then I feared was: and ſtraight my death was ſought. Some Babes ſoone after they bee borne, by ſtroke of death depart: But I poore ſoule, before my byrth adiudged was to dart Of death: ſome yet in Mothers wombe, ere any light they ſee Doe taſte the dint of haſty Fate, while Innocents they bee. Apollo by his Oracle pronounced ſentence dyre Vpon mee being yet vnborne, that I vnto my Syre Should breaſtly parricide commit: and therevpon was I Condemned ſtraight by Fathers doome. My Feete were by and by Launcde through, & through with yrō Pins: hangde was I by ye Heeles Vpon a Tree: my ſwelling plants the printe thereof yet feeles: As pray to Beaſtes, caſt out alſo, to cramme theyr greedy Iawes In Mount Cythaeron, and to fill the griping Vulturs Mawes. Such Sauce to taſt full lyke was I, was others heeretofore Deſcended of the royall Sangue, with ſmart (perforce) haue bore. But ſee the chaunce: I thus condemn'de by Dan Apollos heſt And caſt to beaſts by Fathers doome, and euery way diſtreſt, Could finde no death: no death on mee durſt ſeyze his lordly Pawe, But fled from mee, as though I had not beene within his Lawe. I verified the Oracle, with wicked hand I kilde Myne owne deere Father, and vnwares his guiltleſſe bloud I ſpilde. Shall any ſatiſfaction redeeme ſo vile an Acte? May any kinde of Piety purge ſuch a ſhamefull fact? I reſted not contented thus. For Father beeing ſlayne, I fell in linkes of lawleſſe Loue with Mother: Oh what payne And grudge of minde ſuſtaynde I there? in thinking on the ſame, To tell our wicked wedlocke Yoake, I loath, I bluſh, I ſhame. I may not well this geare conceale, Ile tell it: out it ſhall: Though to my ſhame it much redound, it may augment my thrall. I will diſplay ſtraunge villanies, and them in number many, Moſt beaſtlike parts, moſt lewde attempts, to bee abhorr'de of any. So filthy, and ſo monſtruous, that (ſure I thinke) no Age Will them belieue to haue bene done: ſo cruell was my rage, That euen ech cutthroate Partrcide thereat may be aſhamde To heare it nam'de: and with diſdaine ſtraight wayes will be enflamde. My handes in Fathers blud emb rude to Fathers Bed I brought. And haue with Mother myne, his Wife, inceſtuous practyſe ſought. To myſchiefe adding miſchiefe more: I wis my fault to Sire, Is ſlender in compariſon: my graceleſſe fond deſire Could not bee ſtaide, till ſolemnely the mariage Knot was knit Twixt mee and Mother myne, alas for want of grace and wit. How plungde am I in myſchiefe ſtill? how is the meaſure full Of horrours vile, which doe my minde and heart aſunder pull? And leaſt the heape of theſe my woes might ſeeme to bee too ſkant, My Mother (ſhe my Wyfe that is) yong iſſue doth not want. Can any crime in all the World more haynous be ſurmiſde? If any may: by wicked Impes the ſame I haue deuiſde. My Realme and Crowne I haue reſignde, which I receiued as hyre For murdring moſt vunaturally the king, my Lord, and Syre, Which Crowne now ſince, twixt both my ſonnes hath kindled mortall war. And all the countrey by the ears remains at deadly iarre. I know ful wel what deſtenies to this ſame Crowne belonges. None without Bloud the ſame ſhall weare, and moſt accurſed wrongs. This mynd of myne (who Father am) preſageth many ills: And gloomy dayes of ſlaughter dyre: the plot that murther willes. Already is co •• u's and caſt: all truth of word and deede Is quight exild, al promiſe broke of pactes afore decreed. Etheocles, thone of my ſonnes who now in princely throne Beates all the ſway, meanes ſtil to keepe the Diademe alone. Poore Polynices th'o other ſonne, thus beyng diſpeſſeſt, And kept by force from Kingly rule his humble ſute addreſt Vnto the Gods this wrong to wreake, this breach of league and oth T'auenge and plague: he Argos ſoyle end Greekiſh Cttyes both Perſwades t'aſſiſt him in this warie, this quarel to mayntayne: That he in Thebes (as promiſe was) might haue his turne to raygne. The ruyne that to wearied Thebes ſhall greeuouſly befall And bring the pompous ſtate therof adowne, ſhal not be ſmall. Fire, ſword, glaue, woūds, & thwackīg thūps, ſhal light vnto their ſhare, And that ere long: and miſchieues worſe (it any worſe there are) And this ſhall hap, that all the worlde may know it is the rac And yſſue of a curied Syre that darraygnes ſuch a caſe. Though other cauſes none there were to moue you (ſic) to liue, Yet is this one ſufficient, that you by awe may dryue Your ſonnes my Brethren tarring thus to vnity and peace: For you their Father only may theyr furies cauſe to teaſe. You and none els may turne away thoccaſſons of this warre: Theſe branſicke youthes from further rage you onely may dibarre. By this your meanes the countrey ſhall their quiet peace enioy And Brethren ioyntly reconcild ſhal worke no more ennoy. If you therefore this mortall life thus to your ſelfe eny: You many thouſandes ſhal vndge, whoſe ſtates on you relye. Oed. What? canſt thou make me to beleue, that any ſparke of grece Or loue to Syre, or honeſty in them hath any place, Which thirſt for one on others bloud, which after kingdomes gape, Whoſe whole delight is villany, werre, wurther, guile and rape? Such hateful ympes on miſchiefe ſet, ſuch wicked Termagoſites, As to be ſonnes of ſuch a Syre with ſhame may wake their vauntes. At one bare woord to tel thee all: thy brethren two are bent Vppon all miſchiefe, wayghing not what looſenes they frequent. When flingbrayne rage enſots their heades, they care not they a ruſh Vpon what Deueliſh vile attemptes they geue the deſprat puſh. And as they are conceau'd and borne in moſt abhorred ſort, So ſtill deuoyde of Grace they thincke all villany but ſport. Theyr Fathers ſhame and wretched ſtate moues them no whit at all, To Countrey they no reckning make what maſſacre befall. Their myndes are rauiſht with deſyre ambitiouſly to raygne. I know their driftes, and what they hope at length by ſhiftes to gayne. And therfore ſith the caſe ſo ſtandes I leyſer had to die With poaſting ſpeede whyle in my houſe there is none worſe then I. Ahlas, deare Daughter what adoe doſt thou about me make? Why lieſt thou proſtrate at my knees? why doſt thou trauaile take, To conquere my reſolued mynd with this thy ſpiced phraze Of fayre entreatie? theſe thy wordes my flynty hart amaze. Dame Fortune hath none other bayte to bryng me to her lure Then this alone: til now I ſtill vnbanquiſht did endure. No Creatures words but thyne alone could pearce this hart of myne, Ne from a purpoſe reſolute my ſetled mynd butwyne. Thou conquere canſt thaffections fond that in my breaſt do boyle, Thou teacheſt grace to fathers houſe, and zeale to natiue ſoyle. Each thing to me delightful is which iumpeth with thy wil: Commaund me (Daughter) I thy heſtes am ready to fufill. Old Oedipus if thou enioyne, wil paſſe th' Aegaean Sea: And flaſhing flakes of Aetna Mount, with mouth he dare aſſay. He boldly dare obiect himſelfe to raumping Dragons claw Which rag'd, & ſweld and venime ſpit apace, when as he ſaw Dan Hercules away to ſteale his golden Aples all In Gardens of Heſperides. At thy commaund, he ſhall His Entrails offer vnto iobbe of greedy Vulturs Byll: At thy commaund, content he is in life to linger ſtill.
THE SECONDE ACTE. Nuntius. OEdipus. Antigone. Iocaſta. REnowmed Prynce, of royall Race and Noble lygne yſpronge: The Thebans dreading much the drife of this your childrens thronge, And warlicke garboyle now in hand, moſt humbly pray your Grace For Countreys ſafety, downe to ſet ſome order in the caſe. They bee not threates and menacies that thus their mindes affright: The miſchiefe is more neere then ſo: the Enmy is in ſight. For Polynices he that is your younger ſonne of twayne, Doth clayme the crowne, and in his turne in Thebes requires to raigne According vnto couenaunts made: which quarrell to decite Hee purpoſeth the dene of ſword, and mar tall force t'abide. With him he brings a mighty Troupe from eu'ry part of Greece, Sir, ſeuen Du •• ce, heſieging Thebes are minded it to fleeſe. Helpe noble King, els are wee lyke to periſhe man and chylde, Theſe bloudy broyles of ciuill warre from vs protect and ſhyelde. O Edi. Am I one like to ſtop the rage of any wicked act? Am I one like to cauſe theſe Youthes to leaue their bloudy fact? Am I a maiſter like to teach what lawes of loue do meane? Should I not then from former quiſe digreſſe in nature eleane? They treade their Fathers ſteps aright, they play my lawleſſe prankes: Like Syre, like Sonnes, like Tree, like fruite: I con thē harty thanks: By this I know them for my Sonnes, and praiſe their towardneſſe: I would they ſhould by peeuiſh partes, whoſe Sonnes they be, expreſſe. Shew forth you noble Gallante ympes, what metled minds you beare, Shew forth by deedes your valor great, let lofty ſprights appeare. Surmount and dimme my prayſes all, Eclypſe my glory quight: Attempt ſome enterpriſe in which your Syre may haue delight To haue till now remaynd in life: hereof I haue no doubt: For well I know your practiſe is ſtraunge feates to bring about. Your byrth and ligne from whence you ſpronge, aſſures me of no leſſe Such noble Bloudes muſt needes atchiue ſome doughty worthineſſe. Your Weapons and Artillery for warre bring out with ſpeede, Conſume with flame your natiue Soyle, and deſolation breede In eu'ry houſe wirhin the Land: a hurly burly make Confuſedly of eu'ry thinge. Make all the Realme to quake, And in exile theyr dayes let end make leuell with the ground Eche fenced Fort and walled Towne: The Gods and all confound, And throw their Temples on their heads: Their Images deface, And melt them all: turne vpſ downe eche houſe in eu'ry place. Burne, ſpoyle, make hauocke, leaue no iote of City free from fyre, And let the flame begin his rage within my Chamber dyre. AN. Syr, baniſh theſe vnpatient panges, let plagues of Cōmon wealth Entreate your Grace, ſith vpon you ſtayth all their hope and health. Procure your ſonnes to reconcile themſelues, as brothers ought, Eſtabliſhe peace betwene them both, let meanes of loue be ſought. OEd. Oh daughter, ſee and well beholde howe I to peace am bent? And how to end theſe garboyles all I ſeeme full well content? My minde (I tell thee) ſwelles with yre: within my entralles boyles Abundaunt ſtoare of Choller fell: ſuch reſtleſſe rage turmoyles My inward Soule, that I muſt yet ſome greater matter brew: Which may the Realme enwrap in bale, and cauſe them all to rue. That which my raſhe and heady ſonnes haue hitherto begon Is nothing in reſpect of that wich muſt by me be don. This ciuill warre is nothing like to that which I deuiſe: Theſe trifling broyles for ſuch a Sea of harmes cannot ſuffice. Let brother cut the brothers throate with murthrous knife in hand: Yet is not this ynough to purge the miſchieues of this lend. Some haynous Fact, vnheard of yet, ſome deteſtable deede Muſt practiſde hee: as is to mee. and myne by Fates decreed. Such cuſtome haunts our curſed race: ſuch guiſe our houſe hath caught: My viſe inceſtuous Bed requires, ſuch pageaunts to be wraught. To me your Father Weapons reach, my ſelfe heere et me ſhrowde In couert of theſe queachy wooddes: and let me be allowde To lurke behinde this Craggy Rocke, or els my ſelfe to hyde On backſide of ſome thickſet hedge: where lying vneſpide, I hearken may what marketfolkes in paſſing to and froe Do talke: and what the countrey Clownes ſpeake, as by way they goe. There (ſyth with eyes, I cannot ſee) with ear yet may I beare How cruelly my Sonnes by warre do one the other teare. IOC. A fortunate and happy Dame Agaue may be thought, Who (though with bloudy hands) her ſonne to fatell death ſhe brought, And from the ſhoulders chopt his head, and bore the ſame about In b oudy hand, at Bacchus feaſt withau th'inſpired rout Of ſacrificers, quartering poore Pentheus mangled lymmes: Though this her cruell facte, ſomewhat her commendation dymmes: Yet euen in theſe her phrantick fits ſhee ſtayde her ſelfe in time From further harme, not adding more to aggrauate her crime. My guilt were light, if I had not ſome others guilty made: And yet is this but matter light: I tooke a biler trade. For, Mother I am vnto thoſe that in all vice excell, And who in moſt abhorred ſinnes condignely beare the bell. To all my woes and myſeries there wanted onely this, That I ſhould loue my Countreyes foe, who Polynices is. Three ſnowy Wynters paſſed are, and Sommers three be gone, Synce be an exilde wretch abroade hath lead his lyfe in moane: And ſought his bread among the fremmd: till now compell'de perforce. Hee craues reliefe of Greekiſh Kings, on him to haue remorſe. Hee maried hath the Daughter of Adraſtus, who at becke Rules Argiue people, ſwaying them with awe of Princely checke: And he t' aduaunce his ſonne in law to his moſt lawfull right Hath with him brought from ſeuen Realmes a warlike Crue to fight. What doome I ſhould in this caſe geue, which ſyde I wiſh to winne, I cannot tell: my minde amazde, yet doubtfull reſts therein. Th'one of my Sonnes (as right it is) requyres the Crowne as due: I knowe it ſo accorded was: his cauſe is good and true. But in ſuch ſort, by force of Armes to relie maunde the ſame, Is ill and moſt vnnaturall, herein he is to blame. What ſhall I doe, what may I ſay? I mother am to both: And thus my Sonnes at deadly fewde to ſee I am full loth. Without the breach of mother zeale I can no way deuiſe: For what good had I wiſhe to th'one, thence th'others harme doth riſe. But though I loue them both alyke, yet ſure my heart enclynes To him that hath the better cauſe: though wronged thus, he pynes: As one by frowning fortune thrilde from piller vnto poſt: His Credite, Countrey, friendes, and wealth, and treaſure being loſt. The weaker ſide I will ſupport, and further al I can, Moſt mercy alwayes ſhould vt ſhewde vnto th'oppreſſed man. NV. While (Madame) you waymēting here your heauy plaints declare And waſte the time, my Lords your Sonnes in taunged battayle are: Eche Captains bright in Armour ſtandes, the Trumpet ſounds amain, And Standard is aduanc'de, amid the thronge of eyther traine. In marſhall ray full preſt to fight ſtand ſeuen worthy Kynges: And eche of them a warlicke troupe of valiaunt Souldiers bringes. With courage not behynd the beſt, the Thebanes marche apace: And like right ympes of Cadmus brood, do ſlaſh at Enmies face. The Souldiers force and willingnes on eyther ſide to fyght, Appeares: in that they nothing leſſe pretend them ſhameful flight. See how their trampling to and froe, the duſt to Skies doth reare, And what a Cloud of Smoke in Campe the horſes make t'appeare. And if my feare diſmay me not: It all be true I ſee: Me thinkes I view their glittering glaues begoard with bloud to bee. Me thinkes I ſee the Voward thrill and ſhake their Pikes in hand: Me thinkes I ſee the Gydons gay, and Streamers where they ſtand: Wherein is wrought by curtous ſkill, in Letters all of Gold The Scotchion, Poeſte, Name and Armes of euery captayne bold. Make haſt, be gone, diſpatch. (Madame) Cauſe Brethren to agree: Betwyxt them ſtay this quarell, leaſt a ſlaughter great ye ſee. So ſhall you to your Children loue, to each ſyde peace reſtoare: The mothers mediation may heale vp all the Soare.
THE THIRDE ACTE. Antigone. Iocaſta. Nuntius. POaſt, poaſt, be gone, and trudge for life: Queene mother make no ſtay: That twixt my Brothers, perfect league and truce continue may. You that be Mother to them both, vſe your auctority: Out of their handes their weapons wreſt, and make them warres defye. Your bared Breaſtes which once they ſuckt, hold out amid their Swordes: Beare of the brunt of all their blowes, or end this warre with wordes. Ioc. Thy talke I like, I wil be gone: Ile goe with might and mayne: This head of myne I ieoperd wil, betwene them to be ſlayne. In thickeſt thronge of all the Troupes I purpoſd am to ſtand, And try what grace, or curteſy rimaynes in eyther Bonde. If Brothers beare malicious myndes each other to ſubdue, Let them firſt onſet geue on wee, and me to death purſue. If eyther of them be endude with any ſparke of grace, Or Natures lawes or Filiall awe doth any whit embrace, Let him at mothers ſuite lay downe his Pikes and glaues of warre, And weapons of haſtility let him abandon farre. And he that cancard ſtomacke beares his Brother there to quell, Forgetting Nature, let him firſt with me his Mother mell. Theſe headdy youthes from further rage I ſeely Trot wil ſtaye: I wittingly will not behold ſuch miſchiefe cary ſway. Or if I liue to ſee the ſame, it ſhal not bee alone. Ant. The Standardes are diſplayd in field, the Ennemyes are prone To fall to fight: the claſhing noyſe of weapons heare you may. Much murther, death, and dreadfull dule, cannot be far away. Their ſtony hartes goe mollify, with ſugred termes perſwade Their wilful myndes O Oueene, before they f riouſly inuade The one the other: yonder ſee how they in armour bright Beſtirre themſelues from place to place: (O dire and diſmall ſight.) My trickling teares, my blubbring Eyes, may put you out of doubt That all is true which I haue ſayd: looke, looke, how al the route O eyther part doth ſlowly march as loth (belike) to trye By dent of Swerd ſo ſtraunge a caſe: But both my brothers hie Apace, to grapple force to force, and ioyne with handy blowes: This day wil breeede the bitter ſmart of euer during woes. Ioc. What whirlewynd ſwift might I procure to beare me through the ayre? What monſtruous flying Sph ••• wil helpe, that I were quickly there? Of all the Byrdes Stimphalides (with winges ſo huge and large That Phoe bur rayes they ſhadowed quight) wil any take the charge To cary mee to yonder place? what rauenous Harpye Burd With vgly talantes all with flith, and dirty dung befurde, (Which hungreſtarud King Phineus, that had put out the Eyes Of children his) wil at this pinch a meane for me deuyſe, That I aloft may hoyſed bee, and with al ſpede be ſet, Where yonder cruel armies two in open field be met? Nune. Shee runnes apace, like one of wit and ſenſes all diſtract: No Arrow ſwifter out of Bow: no Ship with Sayle ful thwackt With wynd at will more way can make with motion ſuch ſh e flyes As glyding Star whoſe leames do drawe a Furrow longe in Skyes. As much agaſt ſhe trottes apace: and now in Campe ſhe ſtandes: Her preſence and arriuall there hath parted both the Bandes. At mothers great entreaty made, the bloudy broyle is huſht: And where before with goring Glaue the one at thother puſht, With ful entent to kill and ſlay, appeaſ'd is now their yre And they well pleaſd to bend to peace, as ſhe doth them require. The Sword agayne in ſheath is put, that lately out was drawne To paſh out Braynes of Brothers Scull: ſhe ceaſſeth not to fawne Vpon them both, their ſtrife to ſtint: her gray and hoary haires, Her Snow whyte lockes with tears beſprent in ruthful ſort ſhe eates. She Motherlike ſeekes how to linke their hartes in one aſſent, With bryniſh teares ſhe wettes the cheekes of him thats malcontent. That Child that ſtaggryng longe doth ſtand, with mother to diſpute, May ſeeme vnwilling mynd to beare to yeeld to Mothers ſute.
THE FOVRTH ACTE. Iocasta. Polynices. AGaynſte mee onely turne the force of wreckful Sword and Fyre: Let all the Youthes with one accord repay to me that hyre, That earnde I haue by due deſerte: let both the gallant Band Of them that come from Argos ſoyle, and them of Thebane Land Come runne vpon me all at once: let neither freend ne foe Refrayne a whit his bloudy blade at this my wombe to throw. This wombe, this wombe, wherein I bare theſe wilful Brethren here Beget by hym that was my ſonne, and eke my wedded fere. Diſmembre this my Body vyle: caſt all my lymmes abrode: I am their mother: child wyfe throwes for them I once abode. You two, my ſonnes, neede I to ſpeake, to wil you leaue your yre? Iſt not your partes, in ſuch a caſe t'accompliſh my deſyre? Wil you not plight the faythful league of true and perfect loue? Wil you not royntly quarrels all at Mothers ſute remoue? That this ſhalbe as I requeſt, come, geue me both, your handes Whyle yet they vndyſtayned be, and cleane from murther ſtandes. What cryme you heretofore haue done, agaynſt your wil it was. And al that ſpot which ſtaynes your ſame, by Fortune came to paſſe. This haynons Act, this franticke coyle you can no wiſe excuſe But wittingly and willingly ſound counſell yee refuſe. It reſteth free within your choyſe: of theſe take which yee liſt: If peace delight for mothers ſake this brabling broyle vntwiſt. If ſuch a lewde outrage as this more pleaſaunt ſeeme to bee: Behold, the ſame and greater too yee may commit on mee. Who beeing mother, heere oppoſe my ſelfe betwene you twayne: Ere you do one an other kill, I needes muſt firſt be ſlayne. Take either therefore quight away this ſtraunge vngodly iarre. Or if you will not: mee diſpatch, who ſtay your wiſhed warre? Ahlas in this my penſiue plight to whom ſhould I dyrect My piteous plaint, and earneſt ſuyte? to whom might I detect Myne inward griefe and throubed heart? which of them were I beſt T'encounter firſt and faſt embrace, to breede my ſureſt reſt? I loue them both euen equally, affection like I beare To either party: mother fond and parciall els I weare. The one of them theſe three yeares ſpace bath liu'de in baniſhment. But it all couenaunts may be kept, as at the firſt was ment, The other now as turne doth fall, muſt trudge an otherwhile, And learne to know what tis to liue ſo long in like exile. Wae worth this hapieſſe heauy hap: ſhall I not liue the day, To ſee my ſonnes together once in one ſelfe place to ſtay? Shall neuer I behold them both to better concord bent? Is all affection naturall within them both ſo ſpent? Then, Polynices, come thou fyrſt, embrace thy Mother deare? Thou that haſt trauaild many amyle, and languiſht many a yeare. That many a ſtorme abidden haſte, and many a brunt ſuſtainde, And wearied long with ſharpe exile, from Mothers ſight bene wai de: Come vnto mee, and neerer ſtand, put vp thy Sword againe Into thy ſhrath: thy ſhyuering Speare (that out of hand ſo faine Would be diſchargd at Brothers throate) within this groūd ſticke faſt. This Shielde of thine lay alſo downe. It makes mee ſore agaſt. It is ſo bigge, it will not let this louing breaſt of myne. To ioyne and debonairely meete with that ſweete heart of thine: Take of thy he met from thine head, the Thonge thereof vuty. That I thy Vifuge may behold, and all thy face deſcry. Why doſt thou backward turne thy head? and glaunceſt ſtill thine Eye, And takèſt keepe of brothers hand for feare of villany? Thy body all with theſe myne Armes I will defend and hyde? If hee attempt thy 〈◊〉 to ſpill, his murthrdus blade ſhall glyde Firſt through theſe tender ſydes of myne: why ſtandſt thou ſo amazd? Doſt thou diſtruſt thy Mothers loue? thinkſt thou her kindnes razd? Poly. I feare in deede, diſtruſting ſore, Syre, Damme & all my kinne: And thinke that truthles treachery in hartes of all hath bin. Dame Natures lewes are flung at heele, and naught eſteemed be: No fayth in kinred planted is, ne true ſyncerity. Synce I by proofe haue ſeene and felt what hurly burly growes Betwixt vs Brethren: and from thence what Sea of miſchiefe flowes: I may ſuſpect no faſter fayth in Mother to remayne: Its not vnlike, but ſhee likewyſe wil prankes as bad mayntaine. Ioc. Thy ſword in hand faſt claſped keepe: On heade thy Baſnet tye: On Left Atme holde thy Targat ſure, and on thy Gard relye. At all poyntes armd prepared ſtand: all future doubtes preuent: Be ſure to ſee thy Brother firſt t'vnarme himſelfe content. And now to thee Etheocles ſome ſpeech I am to vſe: Thou firſt waſt cauſe of all this warre, doe not therfore refuſe Downe firſt to lay thy brawling Blade, and yeld to Reaſons lore: If name of peace ſo hateful be, if that thou any more Entendſt this warre to proſecute, in this ſo ſauage ſort, Let mother yet this curteſy from thee (her ſonne) extort That ſome ſmall tyme of truſty truce thou wilt with willing mynd Conſent vnto: til I my Sonne thy Brother moſt vnkind May after flight goe kiſſe end oel, now firſt or laſt of all. Whyle I for peace entreaty make, you men vnarmd I call To liſten vnto that I ſay: thy Brother feareth thee: And thou fearſt him: and I feare both. But this my feare you ſee Is nothing for my ſelfe at all, but for th'auayle of both. Why ſeemeſt thou thy naked ſword to put in ſheath ſo loth? Be glad to take the benefyte of any litle ſtay: In matters lewde tis wyſedome good to ſtand vpon delay. You enter into ſuch a warre, wherein he ſpeedeth beſt That vanquiſht is: both of you feare to be by fraud diſtreſt Through practiſd meanes and ſubtil plois of Brothers ſpitefull drift, Or ouerteacht by pollicy of ſome deuyſed ſhift. But if deceiue or be deceyu'd by him that is our Frend Wee needes muſt be: in ſuch a caſe wee ſhall the leſſe offend In ſuffring wrong then doyng harme: But feare thou not a whit, You both from ambuſht treacheryes your Mother wil acquit. What ſay you Sonnes: ſhall this requeſt of myne with you preuayl . Or ſhall I curſe my luckeleſſe faie, and on my Fortune rayle And iudge your Sire an happy man, in that he liueth blinde And cannot ſee the thing which I beholde with penſiue minde? In comming vnto you, did I bring with mee this intent, To ende theſe broyles? or did I come to ſee ſome dyre euent? Etheocles, ſome what appeaſde, hath pitcht his Speare in ground, And not a weapon bloud to ſheed, in hand of his is found. Now Polynices, vnto thee my former ſuite I bring, Regard thy Mothers mournefull plight, and yeelde vnto the thing That ſhee with teares entreates to haue. O Sonne, at length I ſee, I hold with hands, I kiſſe with mouth, I touch with ioyfull glee This Face of thyne, the ſight whereof I wanted haue ſo longe: And haue more often wiſhed for, then can bee tolde with tonge. Thou haſt from natiue Soyle bene ch ſde to Coaſte of forraigne king, And croſſed bene with trouncing force of frowning Fortunes ſting. Thou many a Storme, and many a brunt in many a foming Sea, In Wandring ſort and baniſht guiſe, didſt oftentimes aſſay. Thy Mother at thy Spouſal feaſt was abſent farre away, And could not doe ſuch nuptiall Rytes as tell for ſuch a day. Into thy wedding Chamber ſhee brought thee, ne yet thy Bryde, Ne yet in ſolemne ſorte the houſe with herbes and odours plide: Ne yet did with a Ryband white the wedding Torches tye, As vſe and cuſtome willes to bee at ſuch ſolemynitie. Adraſtus, Father to thy Wife, and father in lawe to thee, With Daughter his, hath not defraide much ſtore of golde or Fee. No Dower hath he beſtowde on her, her wealth was very ſmall, Of Citties, Landes, and Reuenewes hee gaue her none at all. Warre, Warre: is it thou onely hadſt, by taking her to Wyfe: In lew of other gyfts, hee helpes to kindle all this Stryfe. Thou Sonne in lawe arte vnto him, that is our Countreyes Foe: Thy Natiue ſoyle thou leaueſt, and to forraigne Courts doſt goe. Thou feedeſt now at Straungers boarde, and makeſt more accoumpt Of new acquaintaunce got abroade; as though it did ſurmount The friendſhip of thy countrey heere: thou art a baniſht wight, And liu'ſt in exile, for no fault, but through thy brothers ſpight. In thee appeares reſemblaunce playne of all thy Fathers Fate, In which there acketh not ſo much as thoyſe of wedded Mate. Whom with as ill miſchaunce and hap as euer Fathers was, Thou haſte in luckleſſe houre and time of mariage brought to paſſe. O Sonne, thy mothers onely hope, for whom ſuch care I take: Whoſe ſight, now after many yeares, doth mee moſt oyfull make. For whom I haue full many a time to Gods deuoutly praide: Whereas in deede, thy new retourne to mee, may well bee ſaide To take away as great a ioye, and bring as great a griefe, As it to theſe myne aged yeares is comfort and reliefe. I proſtrate at the Oracle, beſought Apollos Grace To tell mee, when I ſhould not neede to further feare thy caſe. Who flowting this my fond demaund, anone did flatly tell, And ſpake theſe words, which yet (I trow) I doe remember well. Thou fearſt thy ſon, leaſt harme he take, as is a mothers guiſe: But thou I ſay more cauſe ſhalt haue, to feare him otherwiſe. For if this warre vnraiſde had bene I ſhould thy preſence lacke: And if thou wert not, Thebane Land might free remayne from Sacke. The ſight of the doth coſt vs all a hard and nipping price, Yet doth it like thy mother well: ſo that her ſound aduice In this one thing thou follow will. Diſpatch theſe Armies hence: Euen preſently, whyle yet of bloud there hath not bene expence. So foule a Fact to bee ſo neere, is haynous out of doubt: I ſhake, I quake to thinke thereon, in euery Ioynt throughout. My hayre ſtands vpright euen for feare, two brethren thus to ſee Aloofe, and ready one to chop at th'other, cruelly. Howneere was I (poore Mother theirs, a bloudier act t'haue ſeene.) Then father blind yet euer ſaw, or euer yet would weene? And though my feare be ouerpaſt and th'act vnbrought to paſſe: My ſelfe yet doe I wretched thincke, that done ſo neere it was. By all the throwes for tenne months ſpace, in wombe whē I thee bare, And for thy Siſters ſake both twaine, which ſhine in veri e rare: And by thoſe Eyehoales of thy Syre for which with wrekefull Pawe Hee pulld his Eyes, becauſe (vnwares) hee ſtained Natures lawe, I thee beſeech from Thebane Walles ſent backe theſe armed Bandes, Which threatning all our throates to cut, againſt our Countrey ſtands: Yea though you preſently depart: yet are you much to blame, And there is due vnto you both, a lot of during ſhame: Becauſe this Countrey round about hath peſtred bene with powre, And troupes of Souldiours ſtout and braue, it ready to deuowre. With penſiue hearts a mourning minds, theſe Eyes of ours haue ſeene Your praūcing couriers wt their Feete, ſpoile Theban Medowes greene. Wee oft haue ſeene your houlty Peeres in warlike Chariot ride: And oft our houſes to haue brunt with wildfier haue bene ſpide. And laſt of all An act wee ſawe (which euen to Thebes is ſtraung.) Two Brethren warring mortally, all Natures bondes to chaung. Ech one in th'Army ſawe this ſight, the people witneſſe bee. Your Syſters two, and Mother I this all did plainly ſee. Your Father, hee may thanke himſelfe: that he did not behold This lamentable ſpectacle and hauockes manifold. Call now to thy remembraunce heere, thy Father OEdipus, Whoſe doome, did Facts (by errour done) euen plague, & puniſhe thus. With Fyre, & ſword ſubuert not cleane (good Sonne) thy coūtrey deare, And Thebes whereof thou wouldſt be king) ſurceaſe with force to teare. What Bedlem pang enchaunts thy mind? what might thy meaning bee? Thou claymſt a Realme, which to ſubuert thou geeueſt lycence free. In ſeeking thus a countryes rule: a countrey thou deſtroyeſt: Which thou thine own would make, thou marr'ſt, & (as twere none) annoyeſto. Heereby thou hindreſt much thy ſelfe, in yt thou makeſt ſpoyle, And burneſt vp doth Corne and Graſſe, and keep'ſt a ſhamefull coyle, In cha ing men out of their homes: (O deſprate witleſſe parte) What man aliue, to waſte his owne, can thus find in his harte? Theſe thinges that thou cōmaundeſt thus by rage of ſword & flame To bee conſum'de: an other man thou thinkſt doth owe the ſame. If thus for princely Chayre you twayne by th'Eares your title try: The ſtate of Realme and Commonwealth will totter ſoone awry. Seeke it, while ye your Countrey ſtandes vnblemiſht by decay: It ſo t'enioy, and ſo to raigne, I coumpt the better way. Ah, canſt thou f •• de in heart to burne, and ſpoyle theſe houſes braue? The lyke whereof in all the worlde beſides, thou canſt not haue: Canſt thou deſtroy and ruinate the noble Thebane wall, To whoſe firſt building ſtones apace at Dan Amphions call Came dauncing of their owne accord, through tunes of warbling harpe: And oucht themſelues in order right vpon the Turrets ſharpe, Without all helpe of worckmans hand, or Pully vp to draw Such pieces as moſt waighty were? Wilt thou by lawleſſe law Throw downe theſe worthy Monuments? wilt thou from hence conuay And cary with thee all theſe ſpoyles? wilt thou ſuch pageaunts play? Thy Fathers old acquainted mates, wilt thou by force ſurpryze And leade as captiue where thou goeſt in proude triumphing wiſe? Shall theſe thy cutthroate Souldiers dragge and •• le 〈◊〉 mothers old? Shal they, graūd Matrons ried in chaines, frō 〈…〉 vnfold? Shall Thebane Maydes, & Damſelles chaſte of freſhe and luſty Age, Bee mingled with the raſkal rout, and hamperd bee in Cage? Shall they as preſents, forced bee in dabbling dirt to toyle Vnto the mynſing Miſtreſſes, and Trulles of Argoa Soyle? Shall I thy ſeely Mother trudge with Pinyond hands behinde? Shall I this triumph of my Chiled to furniſh bee aſſignde? Canſt thou with grudgeleſſe minde, behold thy Countreyfolkes arow, Slayne, mangled, ſpoylde, in peeces hewen, thus to their deathes to got? Canſt thou bring in a deadly Foe, thy Countrey to ſubdue? Shall ſtreates of Thebes runne all with bloud? ſhall all ye Coūtrey rue Thy comming home with flame and fyre? haſt thou an heart ſo hard? A breaſt ſo tipt with flint? a mynde to rage ſo well preparde? If thus thou fare, and ſwell with yre whiles yet thou art no King: What wilt thou bee in Princely throne, if thou ſhouldſt win the Ring? Surceaſſe therefore and qualifie this outrage of thy mynde: In thee let all thy Countrey, grace and Princely myldnes finde. POL. Would you me haue, my ſelfe ſo much to loyall duties yeeld, As that I ſhould a Pylgrims life like wandring Beaſt in field Skud vp and downe from place to place, without both houſe & home, And fleeing natiue ſoyle, bee forſt in forraigne Landes to roame? What other plagues, could you award in iuſtice vnto mee, If I my fayth or ſacred Oath had broken caytifly? Shall I beare all the puniſhment for that vile villains guile? And ſhall hee falſe deceiptfull wretch at my miſfortunes ſmyle? Shall hee in wealth ſtill flaunt it out, and keepe this iolly coyle? Shall hee for ſinnes rewarded bee? and I ſtill put to foyle? Well, well, goe to, bee as bee may: you bid mee wander hence: I am content: your hard decree t'obay is my pretence. But tell mee whyther ſhall I goe? Aſſigne mee to ſome place: Bylike, you would that brother myne ſhould ſtill with ſhameleſſe face Poſſeſſe my ſtately Pallaces, and reuell in his ruffe, And I thereat to holde my peace, and not a whit to ſnuffe, But like a Countrey Mome to dwell in ſome poore thatched Cot: Allow mee poore Exyle ſuch one: I reſt content, God wot. You know, ſuch Noddyes as I am, are woont to make exchaung Of Kingdomes, for poore thatched Cots, bee like this is not ſtraung. Yea more: I, matcht now to a Wyfe of noble ligne and race Shall like a ſeely Dottipoll liue there in ſeruile caſe, At becke and checke of queenely Wyfe, and like a kitchin drudge Shall at Adraſtus lordly heeles, (my Wyues owne Father) trudge. From Princely Port to tumble downe into poore ſeruile ſtate, Is greateſt griefe that may betyde by doome of frouncing fate. IOC. If that thou gape ſo greedely a Kingly Crowne to weare: And that thou canſt not reſt content, till thou a Scepter beare: Behold ech quarter of the world affoordeth Kingdomes ſtore. No doubt thou mayſt winne ſome of them, if that thou ſeke therfore. On one ſyde here, lies Tmolus mount, a ſoyle bethwact with Vines: There runnes Pactol s noble ſtreame with golden Send and mynes. On that ſyde crookt Maeander glydes through midſt of Phrygia fieldes: On this ſyde Hebrus ſwift of courſe much fruict to Thracia yeldes. Nere thereunto lies Gargarus, renoumd each where for Corne, And Troian Xanthus ſwelling floud, that pricke and price hath borne. There Seſtos and Abidus ſtand in mouth of Ionian Sea, Which now is called Helleſpont: and here an other waye Are countreys, which more Eaſtward lye. There Lycia full of Creekes And Hauens ſtrong is ſituate: theſe kingdomes, he that ſeekes, Is like to winne: theſe would I haue thee conquere with thy Sword: Theſe, theſe to winne let King Adraſt to thee his ayd affoorde. In ſome of theſe, let him thee make a King: in Thebes as yit, Suppoſe thy father Oedipus in ſeat of King to ſit. Thy baniſhment much better is to thee, then this returne, Sith all thy drift is cruelly to waſt, to ſpoyle, and burne. Thy baniſhment reputed is to grow through others crime: This thy retourne, in ſuch a ſort to Kingly ſtate to clyme, Is ill and faulty euery way: with this thy warlicke crue Thou ſhalt do better Realms to ſeeke, where bloudy guilt ne grue. Yea, this thy Brother, whom thou doſt purſue with deadly hate Whoſe life, whoſe health, whoſe houſe thou doſt with curſes dire rahate Wil ayde thee with all p wre he canne: himſelfe will alſo goe And ſerue in field for thyne auayle, gaynſt him that is thy foe. Aduaunce thy powre, march boldly forth to take this warre in hand. Wherein thy parentes wiſh thee good, and wil thy helpers ſtand. A Kingdome got miſchieuouſly, and ſnatcht with grudge of mynd, More greeuous is then exiles al, of what ſoeuer kind. Of warre, the doubtful hazardes all ſet downe before thy ſyght, And throughly waigh thuncertayne chaūce, that longes to martial ight. Though al the power of Grece thou bring thy quarel to mayntayne, And though great armed multitudes of Souldiours thou re ayne: Yet chaunce of warre ſtil doubtful hanges, and hard it is to know, Who cary ſhal the victory, thou or thy vowed foe. Mars to no party tyed in: what he decrees, ſhal be, As chaunce allots, ſo falles it out: this dome abydeth free. Sword, hope and feare makes equall thoſe, betw ene whom otherwyſe Great oddes there is: blynd Fortunes lot the caſe betweene them tryes. Thy raſh attempt with cryme begonne, gropes after doubtful gayne: And fond deuyſes enterpriſd oft reape deſerued payne. Admit that all the God s in heauen did further thy requeſt, And to promote thy hoat deſyre both willing were, and preſt: Yet al thy frendes are fled away, and al recoyled backe, And Souldiours here and there in Fieldes are come to deadly wracke. Although thou ioy hereat receyue, although the ſpoyles thou take Of vanquiſht Brother, yet the palme of victory muſt ſlake, And not to thee be geuen whole. What kind of warre (alas) Is this, thinkſt thou? iſt not more ſtraunge then euer any was? Wherin if he that victor is, ioy therein any whyt, Moſt execrable wickednes he (doubtles) doth commit. This Brother thyne, whō now ſo faine thou wouldſt bereaue of breath, I wis, if he were once diſpatcht, thou wouldſt bewale his death. And therfore make no more adoe, but ceaſſe from wicked bral, Ridde countrey out of trembling feare, and parentes dole foreſtal. Poly. What, ſhal my Brother for this vyle and ſhamefull breach of pacie Goe ſkotfree thus? ſhal he receyue no guerdon for his fact? Ioc. Feare not my Sonne, he ſhall be payd, and payd agayne, I trow: He ſhalbe King and raygne in Thebes, his payne ſhal euen be ſo. A payne in grayne I warrant him. And if thou doubtful be, Let Graundſyre Laius and thy Syre examples be to thee. Sir Cadmus wil the ſame diſplay, and Cadmus ofſpring all Can witnes be that none in Thebes yet raygnd without a fall. None yet the Theban Scepter ſwayd, that hath not felt the whippe. And promiſe breach made moſt of them from regall Crowne to ſkippe. Now if thou wilte, thou mayſt inſert within this bedroll heere Thy Brother. POLY. Mary, that I wil, in ſhame hath he no peere. And vnto mee it ſeemes a world of bliſſe to bee a king And dye with Kings. POC. Thy caſe doth thee in rank of exiles bring. Raygne Kinge, but yet a loathed wight vnto thy Subiectes all. POLY. For that I neyther recke ne care what ſhall to me befall. That Prince that feares diſdaynful hate, vnwilling ſeemes to raynge. The God that ſwayes the Golden Globe, together hath theſe twayne Conioynd and coupled Hate and Rule: and him do I ſuppoſe To be a noble King indeede, that can ſupplant his foes, And Subiectes cancred hate ſuppreſſe. A King is often ſtayed From doyng many thinges he would, when Subiectes loue is wayed. But vnto them that do repyne to ſe him ſit aloft, He may more rigour boldly ſhew, and pare their p tes more oft. He that will loue of Subiectes winne, with Elemency muſt raygne: A King that's hated, cannot long in Kingly ſeate remayne. For Kingdomes Kinges can beſt deſcribe, what preceptes needfull are. Mell thou in caſes of Exile: for Kingdomes take no care. Pol. To be a King, I would engage to force of flaming Fire, Both Countrey, houſe, land, Wyfe, and Chyld, to compaſſe my deſyre. No Fee, to purchaſe Princely ſeate, ne labour coumpt I loſt: A Kingly Crowne is neuer deare, what euer price it coſt. Thomas Newtonus, Ceſtreſhyrius. FINIS.
THE FOVRTH, AND MOST RVTHFVL TRAGEDY OF L. ANNAEVS SENECA, ENtituled HIPPOLYTVS; tranſlated into Engliſhe, by Ihon Studley. The Argument.

HIPPOLYTVS, the Sonne of THESEVS & ANTIOPA Quene of the Amazons, renouncing al Worldly pleaſures, and carnall delightes, lyued a Batcheler, forbearing all Womens company, and amorous allurements: and only vowed himſelfe to the ſeruice of chaſte DIANA, purſuing the Gentlemanly paſtime of hunting. In the abſence of THESEVS his Father, it chaunced that his Stepmother PHAEDRA ardently enamored with his beawty and luſty age, enueigled him by all meanes ſhee coulde, to commit wyth her filthy, and monſtruous adultry. Whych her beaſtly, vnchaſte, and vndutifull practiſe, hee dutifully loathinge, ſhee turned hir former loue into extreame hatred, and told her huſband THESEVS at his returne home, that his Sonne HIPPOLYTVS woulde haue vnlawfully layne with her. THESEVS belieuing his Wyues moſt vntrue accuſation, meant to haue put his ſonne to death. HIPPOLYTVS vnderſtā ding thereof, got vp into his Chariot and fled. THESEVS being therewith tickeled, and after ſome purſuite, not ouertaking him, went to his Father AEGAEVS beeing a God of the Sea, deſiring him to graunt him three Wiſhes: the laſt whereof was, the deſtruction and Death of HIPPOLYTVS: wherevpon AEGAEVS ſent out certaine great Sea-monſters, or Whirlepooles, which affrighting the Horſes in HIPPOLYTVS Charyot, made them to ouerturne the Charyot, and to runne through thick and thinne till they had diſmēbred true HIPPOLYTVS in pieces. The remorſe of which villany ſo ſtrake PHAEDRA in Conſcience, that with a Sword ſhee ſtabbed herſelfe into the Entrailes, & died vpon the body of HIPPOLYTVS.

The Speakers names. Hippolytus. Phaedra. Nuntius. Chorus, Theſeus. Nutrix.
THE FIRSTE ACTE. HIPPOLYTVS. GOe raunge about the ſhady Woods, beſet on euery ſide With Nets, with Hounds, & toyles, & rū ning out at randon ride About, about, the craggy creſts of high Cecropes hill, With ſpeedy foote about the Rockes, with courſing wander ſtill. That vnder Carpanetus Soyle, in Dale below doth lurke, Whereas the Riuers running ſwift, their flapping waues doe worke, And daſhe againſt the beaten Banks of Thrias valley low, And clamber vp the ſlimy cliues, beſmeard with hor Snow, (That falleth, when y Weſterne winde frō Riphes Moūts doth blow.) Heere, heere away, let other wend, whereas with lofty head, The Elme diſplayes his braunched armes, the wood to ouerſpread. Whereas the Meadowes greene doe lye, where Zephyrus moſt milde Out brayes his baumy breath ſo ſweete, to gerniſh vp the field With luſty ſpringtide flowers freſh whereas Elyſus ſlow Doth fleete vpon the Yſte flakes, and on the Paſtures low. Maeander ſheds his ſtragling ſtreame, and ſheares the fruitleſſe ſand With wrackfull waue: yee whom the path on Marathons left hand, Doth lead vnto the leauened launds, whereas the heirde of beaſt For Euening forrage goe to graze, and ſtalke vnto their reſt. The raſcall Deare trip after faſt, you thither take your way, Where clottered hard Acarnan forſt warme Southerne windes t'obay Doth ſlake the chilling colde, vnto Hymetus Yſie cliue To Alphids litle Villages, now let ſome other d •• ue: That plot where Sunion ſurges high doe beate the ſandy bankes, Whereas the marble Sea doth fleete with crooked compaſt crankes, Vnhaunted lies too long, withoutten race of any wight. Who ſet agog with hunting braue, in woods doth take delyght, Philippis him allures: her hauntes a fomy briſtled Bore That doth annoy with gaſtly dread the huſbandmen full ſore: We know him wel: for he it is foyld with ſo many woundes, But ere they do begin to ope, let ſlip let ſlip your Houndes. But in your leaſhes Syrs keepe vp your eiger Maſtifs yet, Keepe on their Collers ſtill; that doe their galled neekes yfret: The Spartayne Dogges eiget of pray and of couragious kynd, That ſone can ſingle out their game, wherto they be aſſygnd, Tye ſhorter vp within your leaſh: to paſſe tyme ſhall it bring, That with the youlping noyſe of houndes the hollow rockes ſhal ring. Now let the Houndes goe fynd of it with Noſthrell good of ſent, And trace vnto the vglye de ere dawning ay be ſpent. Whyle in the dewiſh ſtabby ground the pricke of cleaze doth ſ icke. One bear the toyle on cumbred necke, and ſome with nettes ful thicke Make ſpeede: ſome with the arming coard by penſell paynted red By ſleight, and ſubtill guyleful eare ſhall make the Beaſtes adred: Loke thou to pitch thi thirling 〈◊〉 and hou to trye thy might, Shalt cope him with broad 〈…〉 with hand both lefte & right. Thou ſtanding at receipt ſhalt chaſe the 〈…〉 awayne. With hallowing: thou with limere ſharpe vndee him beyng ſlayne. Graunt good ſucceſſe vnto thy mate, Virago, thou Diuyne, That ſecret deſartes choſen haſt for noble Empire thyne: Whoſe thirled Dartes with leauel right do gore the Beaſt with Bloud That lappes the lukewarme licour of roxis fleeting Floud. And eke the Beaſt that ſportes it ſelfe on froſen Iſt s ſtraud. The ramping Lyons eake of Geate are chaſed by thy hand. And eke the wyndy heeled Hart in Ca die thou doſt chaſe. Now with more gentle launce thou ſtrikſt the Do that trippes apace. To thee the Tygar fierce his diuers ſpotted breaſt doth yield, The rough ſhaghairy Bugle turnes on thee his backe in field. Eke ſaluage Buffes with braunche & hornes: all thinges thy quarelles feare, That to the needy Garamas in Affricke doth appeare. Or eis the wyld Arabian enriched by his wood, Or what the Brutiſh roches of Pyrene vnderſtood, Or elſe what other Beaſtes do lurcke in wyld Hyrcanus groue, Or elſe among Sarmatians in deſert fieldes that roue: It that the Ploughman come to field, that ſtandeth in thy grace, Into his 〈◊〉 the ouſed beaſt full ſure he is to chaſe. No feete in ſunder breake the 〈◊〉 and home he bringes the Bore In i tting wayne, when as the houndes with gubs of clottered gore, Beſmeared haue their g ymed 〈◊〉 and then the Countrey rout To Cottages repayre in rankes, with triumph all about. Lo, Goddeſſe graunt vs grace: the hounds already opened haue, I follow muſt the Chaſe: this gainer way my paynes to ſaue, I take into the woods.
THE SECOND SCEANE PHAEDRA. NVTRIX. O Countrey Crete that beares the ſway, vpon the Seas ſo vaſt. Whoſe Ships ſo thicke in euery Shore, the Seas doe ouercaſt, What euer coaſt as farre as is Aſſyria lande doth lye, Where Nereus doth the piked Stemme to cut his courſe deny, Why force ye mee that yeelded am, a pledge to thoſe I hate? And gieuen in Bridall bed to bee my enmies Spouſall mate, To languiſh out my time in teares, in woe to leade my lyfe? My huſband lo, & runnagate is gon from mee his Wyfea, Yet Theſeus ſtill performes his O the alike vnto his Spouſe. As earſt to Ariadne, when hee falſifide his Vowes: Hee champion ſtoute dare enterpriſe the darkeneſſe deepe to paſſe Of lothſome Lake, whence yet found out, no way returning was. A ſouldier of the Wooer bolde Proſ rpin home to bring, Out pullde perforce from griſly throne of Dire infernall King. Accompanide with fury fierce hee marcheth forward ſtill, Whō neither dread nor ſhame could force forbeare his wicked will. With lawleſſe wedlocks rauiſhments Hippolytus his Sire Doth in the boyling bottom deepe of Acheron require, But yet another greater griefe ſwayes on my penſiue breſt, No ſilent night, nor ſlumber deepe can ſet my heart at reſt. My ſorrow ſtill is nouriſhed, and ſtill entreaſeth it, And rankleſſe in my boyling breaſt, as out of Aetnaes pit. The ſtifling vapour vpward ſties and Pallas Web, it ſtandes At reſt, my dropping diſtaffe downe doth drop betweene my handes. My luſkiſh minde it hath no luſt my vowed gifts to pay Vnto the Temples of the Gods that liue my Theſeus may: Nor rigging with Th'athenian Dames among the aulters proude To toſſe the fiery brands, vnto the ſacrifice aloude, Nor yet deuoutly praying at the Aares with godly guiſe To Pallas preſident in earth to offer ſacrifice: It doth delight me to purſue the chaſed beaſts in flight, And toſſe my flaſhing Faucon fierce with nimble hand full light. What ayles thou minde this mad to take conceypte in freight and fell? My wretched mothers fatall vice a breeding now I ſmell: To cloake our crime, our luſt doth knowe, woods are the fitteſt place, Alas good Mother, I lament the heauy luckleſſe caſe: Thou raſhe attaint with lothſome luſt enamored is thy breaſt. Euen with the cruell head of al the herd of ſaluage beaſt, That churliſh angry roaring Bull no yoake can bee ſuſtayne. And hee among the wilde, and eke vntamed Neat doth raygne. Yet was enclinde to loue: what God can graunt mee my deſire? Or Dedalus with curious craft can eaſe my flaming fire? Not if hee might returne, whom Ariadne hath iuſtruct From crooked compaſt Laberinth by thred that out hee pluckt Among the lurcking corners cloſe, and wily winding way, To grope his footing backe agayne, and did depriue of day Our monſtrous Minotaur encloſde in Maze and Dungeon blinde: Although hee promiſe to our ſore, no ſalue yet can hee finde: Through mee Apollos Progeny doth Venus quite agayne The filthy ſhame that ſhee and Mars together did ſuſtayne. Whom Phoebus taking at their taſke all naked in the Skie, Hung vp in Nets, a laughing ſtocke to euery gaſing Eye: For this all Phoebus ſtocke, with vile and foule reproche ſhe ſtaynes, In ſome of Minos family ſtill lothſome luſting raygnes: One miſchiefe brings another in. NV. O Theſeus wyfe, and Chylde Of Ioue, let vyce be ſoone out of thine honeſt breaſt exilde: And quench the raging heat: to dire diſpayre doe not vp yeeld, Who at the firſt repulſeth loue, is ſafe and winnes the field, Who doth by flattring fancy fonde feede on his vitious vayne, To late doth grudge agaynſt the yoake which earſt hee did ſuſtayne: Nor yet doe I forget how hard, and voyde of reaſon cleane: A Princes ſtately ſtomacke yeeldes vnto the golden meane: PH. That ende I will accept, whereto by Fortune I can leade The neighbors weale great comfort brings vnto the horie heade. NV. The firſt redreſſe is to withſtand, not willingly to ſlide, The ſecond is to haue the fault by meane and meaſure tride: O wicked wretch what wilt thou doe? why doſt thou burden more The ſtayned ſtocke and doſt excell thy mothers fault afore? More haynous is thy guilt than yet thy mothers Monſter was: For monſters mayſt thou thinke are brought by deſtiny to paſſe: But let the cauſe of ſinne, to blame of maners lewde redounde: And if bicauſe thy huſband doth, not breath aboue the grounde. Thou thinkſt thou mayſt defend thy fault, and make thy matter good And free from feare? thou arte beguilde, yet thinke the Stygian flood In grieſly gaping gulfe for aye hath drenched Theſeus deepe, But yet thy Syre, whoſe kingdomes large the Seas at will do keepe: Whoſe dredfull doome pronounceth panges, and due deſerued payne, Two hundreth wayling ſoules at once. Will he thinkſt thou maintayne So haynous crime to couche? the care of tender Parents breaſt Full wiſe, and wary is to bring their children to the beſt. Yet ſhall we thinke by ſubtill meane by craft and diueliſh guile, In hugger mugger cloſe to keepe our trechery ſo vile. What ſhall thy mothers father Phoebe, whoſe beames ſo blaſing bright, With fiery gleede o euery thing, doth ſhed his golden light? Or Ioue the Grandſire great of Gods that all the world doth ſhake, And brandiſheth with flaming Fiſt, his fiery lightnings flake: That Vulcane doth in Fornace hoate, of duſky Aetna make Thinkſt thou thys may be brought to paſſe, ſo haynous crime to hide? Among thy Grandſire all that haue eche priuy thing eſpide? But though the fauor of the Gods conceale the ſecond time Thy lothſome luſt (vnworthy name) and to thy baudy crime, Sure faythfulneſſe annexed be, that euer barred was. Ech great offence, what will this worke? a preſent plague, alas Suſpicionleſt the guilty night bewray thy deede vniuſt: And conſcience burdned ſore with ſinne that doth it ſelfe miſtruſt. Some haue commit offence full ſafe from any bitter blame, But none without the ſtinging pricks of conſcience did the ſame: Aſſwage the boyling flames of this thy lewde vngratious loue, Such monſtrous miſchiefe horrible from modeſt minde remoue. Which neuer did Barbarian commit vnto this day. No not the Gadding Gothes that vp and downe the fyel es do ſtray: Nor craggy creſted Taurus mount whoſe hoary and froſty face With 〈◊〉 cold abandons all inhabitors the place. Nor yet the ſcattered Scithian, thy mother haue in mynd, And feare this forrayne venery, ſo ſtraunge agaynſt thy kind: The Fathers wedlocke with the ſonnes thou ſeckſt to be defylde, And to conceiue in wicked womb a Baſtard Mungrell Child: Go too, and turne thy Nature to the flame of burning breaſt. Why yet do Monſters ceaſe? why is thy Brothers caue in reaſt. That Mynotaurus hideous hole and vgly couching den Without an other greedy fyend to mounch vp fleſh of men? Miſhapen, lothly monſters borne ſo oft the world ſhall beare, So oft rebels agaynſt her ſelfe confuſed Nature deare, As loue entangles Nimphes of Crere. Ph. I know the truth ye teach O Nurce, but fury forceth mee at worſer thinges to reach: My mynd euen wittingly to vyce falles forward prone and bent To boleſome counſell backe agayne in vayne it doth relente: As when the Norman tugges and toyles to bring the freighted Barke Agaynſt the ſtriuing ſtreame, in vayne he loſeth al his carke And downe the ſhallow ſtreame perforce the Shyp doth hedlong yeeld, Where reaſon preaſeth forth, there fighting fury winnes the field, And beares the ſwinging ſway, and cranke Cupidoes puiſſant might Tryumpheth ouer all my breaſt this flighty win ed wight And puiſſant poteſtate throughout the world doth heare the ſtroke, And with vnquenched flames doth force Io es kindled breaſt to ſmoake, The Battelbeaten Mars hath felt theſe bitter burning brandes, And eke the God hath taſted theſe whoſe feruent fierye handes, The thumping thunder bouncing boltes three forked wyſe doth frame, And he that euer buſted is about the furious flame, In ſmoltring Fornace raging hoat on duſky top ſo 〈◊〉 Of foggye A tna mount: and with ſuch ſlender heat doth frie, And Phoebe himſelfe that weldes his dart vpon his twanging ſtring, With aymed ſhaft directlie driuen the wimpled Ladde doth ſting. With powre he ſcoures along the Earth and Marble Skye awayne. Luſt fauoring folly filthtly did falſely forge and 〈◊〉 L ue for a God: and that he might hys freedome 〈…〉 Aſcribes the name of fayned God to ſhittel bed lame rage. Erycina about the world doth ſend her rouing page, Who glyding through the Azure ſkies with ſlender ioynted arme His perlous weapons weildes at will, and working griec uous harme. Of bones and ſtature beyng leaſt great might he doth diſplay Vpon the Gods, compelling them to crouch and him obay. Some Brainſicke head did attribute theſe thinges vnto himſelfe, And Venus Godhead with the bow of Cupid litle elfe. Who cockred is, tryumphing much in fau ing fortunes lap. And flotes in welth, or ſeekes and ſues for thinges that ſeldome hap, Luſt (mighty fortunes miſcheous mate) aſſaulteth ſtraight his breaſt, His tooth contempneth wonted fare and victuals homly dreſt. Nor hanſome houſes pleaſeth him, why doth this plague refuſe. The ſimple ſort, and to annoy doth ſtately bowers chuſe? How haps it matrimony pure to byde in Cottage baſe? And honeſt loue in middle ſort of men doth purchaſe place? And thinges that be of meane eſtate themſelues reſtraine ful well, But they that wallow in their luſte whoſe ſtately ſtomackes ſwell, Puft vp and boiſtred bigge with truſt of Kingly ſcepter proude Do greater matters enterpriſe then may be well alowde. Hee that is able much to do, of powre wil alſo bee To do theſe thinges he cannot doe. Now Lady doſt thou ſee What thinges do thee beſeeme thus ſta d on ſtately throne on hie? Miſtruſt the ſcepter of thy ſpouſe returning by and by. Ph. In me I beare a violent and mighty payſe of loue, And no mans comming home againe to terrour may me moue. He neuer ſtepped backe agayne, the welkin ſkie to touch, That ſwallowed once and ſunke in gulfe and glummy caue did couch Shut vp in ſhimering ſhade for ay. Nu. Yet do not thou ſuppoſe, Though dreadful Ditis lock with barres, and bolt his dongeon cloſe: And though the hideous hellicke hounde do watch the grieſly gates. Not Theſeus alone ſhal haue his paſſages ſtopt by fates, Ph. Perhaps he pardon wil the cryme of loues procuring heate Nu. Nay churliſhly hee would of old his honeſt wyfe entreate. Antiope his bobbing bu •• ets felt and heauy cuffe: Suppoſe, yet thou can qualifye thy huſbandes raging ruffe: Yet who can mo e Hippoly us moſt ſ ony ſtubborne mynd? He wil abhorre the very name deteſting woman kind, And faring frantickly, wil gyue himſelfe to ſingle life, And ſhunne the hated ſpouſall bedde of euery marride wife, Then ſhal ye playnly vnderſtand his brutiſh Scithian blood Ph. To follow him euen through the hilles, the Forreſt thycke & wood, That keepes among the clottred cliues beſmeard with ſiluer Snow, Whoſe nimble heeles on craggy rockes are friſking to and froe: I wyſh. Nu. He wil reſiſt and not be dalyed with nor coyd, Nor chaunge his chaſt eſtate, for lyfe of chaſtity deuoyd, And turne perhaps his cankred hate to light on thee alone, That now he beares to all. Ph. wil not he moued be with mone? Nu. Stark wilde he is, Ph. and I haue learnd wilde thinges by loue to tame Nu Hee'le runne away. Ph. if by the Seas hef ie, I on the ſame Will follow him. Nu. Remember then thy father may thee take. Ph. I may remember myne offence, my mother eake wil ſlake. Nu. Deteſting womankinde, he driues and courſeth them away. Ph. No ſtrūpets baſhful feare agaynſt my breaſt doth hold at bay: Nu. Thy huſband wil be here. Ph. I wis he comes I warrant him Pyrothous companion in hellicke dungeon dimme. Nu Thy Father alſo he wil come, Ph. A gentle hearted Syre Forgeuing Ariadnes fault, when ſhe did him require. Nu For theſe my ſiluer ſhining lockes of horie drouping age, And breaſt be •• ld with cloying cares reſtrayne thy furious rage. I humbly thee beſeech euen by theſe tender tears of myne, Succor thy ſelfe, much health it is, if will to health encline. Ph. Not euery iote at honeſty exiled is my breaſt, I yeeld me Nurſe, loue that denies thus vnder rule to reſt In quietnes, let him, let him perforce be battered downe. I wil not let my fleeting fame and glorious bright renoume With ſtayne to be diſhonoured, this onely is the gap, To ſhunne the perlous path that leades to vices trayning trap. My ſpouſe let mee enſue with death this ſtriue I ſhall ſubuert. Nu. Deare daughter ſlake the ramping rage of thy unruly heart. Plucke downe thy ſtomacke ſtout, for this I iudge thee worthy breath, In that thou doſt confeſſe thy ſelfe to haue deſerued death. Ph. Condemde I am to die, what kind of death now would I know, As eyther ſtrangled with a rope ſhal I my life forgoe? Or runne vppon a bloudy blade, with gory wound to dye? Or topſ e turuy headlong hurld downe Pallas turret hie, In quarrel iuſt of Chaſtity. Nu. Now ſtrengthen we our hand, Alas ſhal not my feble age thy deſpret death withſtand, Forbeare the ſway of furye fierce. Ph. No reaſon can reſtrayne Him that deſtreth death when death he hath determind playne And ought to die, Nu . Sweete Lady myne (thou comfort of my age And feeble yeares) if in thy breaſt preuayles ſuch mighty rage Haue not regard what ſounding blaſt in trompe of fame be blowne Whereby thy name in ſtayned ſtock of blacke reproch be ſowne, Or graft in ſpotleſſe honeſty: for fame doth fauour ſmall The moſt vpright, to better worſe, to worſe ſhee's beſt of al, Let vs aſſay the froward mynd of yonder ſtubborne Child It is my part to ſet vppon the clubbiſh youngman wilde And to compell the ſturdy lad with ſtony hart to yeeld. Chorus. O Goddeſſe great that art the wondrous ſeede Of frothie ſurge in ſtormy raging ſeas Whō flamy Cupid armd with ſcorching gleed, And Shaftes, to call his Mother it doth pleaſe: This wanton Elfe forth putting ſappy might From ſtedfaſt Bowe how ſurely doth he throwe His venimd ſhaftes, through all thy marrow right The foyſtring fyre doth rankle in and glovve The ſecret flame that boyleth in each vayne The ſtrype layd on ſhevves not in open mark : But invvard marrovv he ſucketh out amayne, This boy to ſound of peace doth neuer harke. His ſcattered ſhaftes ful nimble euery vvhere He dartes aboute, the Eaſt that doth behold The davvning ſunne himſelfe aloft to reare, From purple bed, and vvhether late he rold. With ruddy lamp, in Weſterne wade doth glyde: If any coaſtlye vnder ſcorching clavves Of burning Crab, or people do abyde, Beneath the clyme of Iſy froſen pavves, Of ougly gargle faced bigger Beare, That vvandring ſtill from place to place doth goe The feruent Fumes, and ſtouing heate eche vvhere That iſſues out from CVPIDS burning bow, The flaſhing flames of Yongmens burning breſt, Hee ſtirreth vp, enkindling new the heate Of quenched coales, that vvonted vvas to reſt In drouping age: and virgins hearts doe beate Wyth ſtraunge vntaſted brandes: and doth compell The Gods deſcending downe from ſtarry Sky, Wyth counterfeited Vyſages, todwell Vpon the Earth to blinde the Louers Eye. Sir PHOEBVS vvhilome forſt in Theſſail Land To Sheepeherds ſtate ADMETVS Heirdes did driue, His mourning Harp depriude of heauenly Hand With ordred Pipe his Bullockes did reuiue. Euen hee that trayles the duſky riding rack, And wieldes the ſwaying Poles with ſwinging ſwift How oft did hee faynde fourmes put on his back And heauenly Face with baſer countenaunce ſhift. Sometime a Byrde with ſiluer ſhining wings, He fluttering fluſht, and languiſhing the death With ſweete melodious tuned voyce hee ſings, When ſilly Cygnus gaue vp gaſping breath. Sometime alſo wyth curled for head grim A dallying Bull, he bent his ſtouping backe To maydens ſport, through deepeſt Seas to ſwim Whyle horny houe made ſhift like Ore ſlacke Through waters wyld his brothers perlous coſt Wyth forward glauncing breaſt the ſtream he brake, And leaſt he ſhould his tender pray haue loſt, Her troublus thought did cauſe his heart to quake DIANA bright that ſwayes in circle murke, Of darkened Sky, with frying fits did burne, And leauing of the Euening watch her worke Her fulgent Chariot bright, eke did ſhee turne. To PHOEBVS charge, to weelde it otherwiſe Her Euening Wayne APOLLO learnde to guide, And take his turne in leſſer compaſt ſiſe: The da piſh nights vvatcht not their vvonted tyde And late it vvas ere that AVRORA fayre Set forth the morning Sunne vvith golde aray, Whyle that the Marble axell tree in th'ayre The ſhogging Carte made crake vvith ſwagging ſway, ALCMENAS boyſtrous Impe did lay aſide His clattering ſhafts, and alſo did refuſe To vveare the ramping Lyons hairy Hyde And Emraudes for his fingers did hee chuſe, And brayded kept his rufled ſtaring Locks, Ware Garters vvrought on knee vvith ſeames of Golde And on his feete his durty dabled Socks, And vvith the hand vvhere vvhilome hee did holde His Clubbiſh bat, a thred hee nimbly ſpun: Both Perſia and fertile Lidia knew (Where golden ſanded Pactolus doth run) ALCYDES bid the Lyons caſe adew And thunder propping brawny ſhoulderd ſier That heaued and bolſtred vp the Welkin throne, In ſlender Kirtell vvrought by Web of Tyre Did iet about to pleaſe his Loue alone. This flame (beleue the heart that feeles the vvound) Enſpirde vvith holines excels in might, Whereas the Land by Seas embraced round, Where twinkling Starres doe ſtart in Welkin bright This peeuiſh Elfe the Conntreyes all doth keepe, Whoſe quarrels ſting the Marble faced rout Of vvater Nimphes, that vvith the Waters deepe The brand that burnes in breaſt cannot quench out, The flying fowle doth feele the foyſtring flames. What cruell Skirmiſh doe the Heyffers make? rickt vp by luſt that nice Dame VENVS frames. In furious ſorte for all the Cattels ſake? If fearefull Hearts their Hindes doe once miſtruſt, In loue diſloyall then gladly dare they fight, And bellowings out, they bray to vvitneſſe iuſt Their angry moode, conceyu'de in irefull ſpright. The paynted coaſt of India then doth hate The ſpotty Hyded Tygar, then the Bore Doth vvhet his Tuſkes to combat for his mate, And fomes at mouth: the ramping Lyons rore And ſhake their Manes, when CVPIDS corſies moue Wyth grunts and grones the howling frythes doe murn The Dolphin of the raging Sea doth loue: The Elephants by CVPIDS blaze doe burn: Dame nature all doth challeng as her owne, And nothing is that can eſcape her lawes: The rage of wrath is quencht and ouerthrowne, When as it pleaſeth Loue to bid them pawes: Blacke hate that ruſting frets in cankred breaſt, And all olde grudge is daſht by burning loue. What ſhall I make diſcourſe more of the reſt Stout Stepdames doth this gripe to mercy moue.
THE SECOND ACTE. PHAEDRA. NVTRIX. HIPPOLYTVS. DEclare what tidings bringſt thou Nurce, where is Hippolitus? NV. To cure this puiſſant breach of illes no hope there is in vs: Nor yet to quench his flaſhing flame: his furies fretting ire, Doth fry in ſecret boyling breaſt, and though the ſmothrering fire Be couerte cloſe, yet burſting forth in welked face it fryes: The ſparkling flakes doe glowing flaſh from bloudred rowling eyes She hanging downe her pouched groyne, abhors the lothſome light, Her ſkittiſh wits and wayward minde can fancy nothing right: Her faltring legs doe fayle her now, downe ſquatting on the ground With ſprauling lims her ſhittell griefe doth caſt her in aſwound: Now ſcant ſhee on her lithy necke holdes vp her giddy hed, Nor can commit her ſelfe to couche in reſt vpon her bed. Nor harbring quietnes in heart wyth drery dewle and plaint She languiſheth through out the night, and now her body faynt She biddes them vp to lift: and now her downe agayne to lay, And now hir criſpen locks vndone abroade ſhee biddes diſplay: And ſtrayt to wrap them vp agayne. Thus fickle fanſe ſtill Doth fleete, nor is contented with his wayward wandring will. No care ſhe caſteth on her health nor eates one crum of breade, With feeble fumbling foote vpon the floore eke doth ſhe treade, Her ſtrength alas is quight conſumde, her fauor ſweete doth faynt: Nor ruddy ſanguine purple deye her cherry checkes doth paynt: Wyth greedy gripes of gnawing griefe her pinched limmes doe pyne: Her foltring legs doe ſtagger now: the gloſſe of beauty yne In body Alabaſter bright is ſhronke away and waſt Thoſe Criſtall Eyes that wonted were reſemblance cleare to caſt Of radiant Phoebus gold arayes, now nothing gentry ſhyne: Nor beare a ſparke of Phoebus bright her fathers beams deuyne: The trickling teares tril down her chekes, dew dampiſh dropping ſtill, Doth wet her warrye plantes, as on the toppe of Taurus hill The warry ſnowes with lukewarme ſhoures to moiſture turnd do drop But lo the Princes pallace is ſet open in the top: She lying downe vpon her golden bed of high eſtate Hurles of hir wonted royal robes which wounded hart doth hate: Ph. Maydes, haue our purple garmentes hence, & veſtures wrought wt gold Theſe crimſō robes of ſcarlet red let not myne eyes behold. And damaſke weedes, wheron the Seres embraudet braunches braue, Whoſe Silken ſubſtaunce gatherd of their trees aloofe they haue, My boſome ſhalbe ſwadled in with cuttied gaberdine, No golden coller on my necke nor Indian iewels fyne The precious pearles ſo whyte ſhal hang no more now at myne eares, Nor ſweete perfumes of Siria ſhal poulder more my heares. My flaryng ruffled lockes ſhal dagling hang my necke aboute And ſhoulder poyntes: then then apace t ••• attring in and out. Let wyndes euen blow it where it liſt, in left hand wil I take A quiuer of ſhaftes, and in my right a Booreſpere wil I ſhake, To cruell child Hippolitus ſuch one his mother was, As fleeting from the froſen Seas thoſe countrey coſtes did paſſe, And draue her hierdes that bet with trampling feete Th' Athenian ſoyle Or like the trull of Tauais, Or like her wil I toyle, Of Meotis that on a knot wounde vp her criſpen lockes Thus wil I trot with moone like targe among the wodes and rockes. Nu. Leaue of thy bitter languiſhing vnto the ſil •• ſort (That walter thus in waues of woe) griefe giues not teſting port Is any meaſure to be found in thy tormenting fire. Some grace at wyld Dianae hand with ſacrifyce require. O Goddeſſe greate of Woods, in hilles that onely ſetſt thy throne, And Goddes that of the craggy clyues at worſhipped alone, Thy wrathful threatninges on vs all now turne to better plight O Goddeſſe that in forreſtes wyld and groues obtayneſt might, O ſhyning lampe of heauen, and thou the Diamon of the Night, O threefold ſhapen Heccate that on the world his face Doſt render light with torch by turnes, vouchſafe to graūt thy grace To further this our enterpriſe and helpe our piteous caſe, O mollify Hippolytus his ſtubborne hardued hart, And let him learne the pangues of loue and taſt like bitter ſmart: And yeeld his light allured eares: entreate his bru •• ſh breaſt, And chaunge his mynd, in Venus boundes compel him once to reſt. So froward and vntoward now ſo crabbed curſt and mad: So ſhalt thou be with blandiſhing and ſmyling countnaunce clad. Thy ſhimering clowde cleane fading hence then brightly ſhalt thou bear And gliſteryng hornes, then whyle by night vpon the whirling ſphere, Thy cloudy heeled ſteedes thou guydes, the raging witches charme Of Theſſal, ſhal not draw thee from the heauens nor do thy harme No Shepherd purchaſe ſhal renoume. Thou comſt at our requeſt: Now fauour doſt thou graunt vnto the prayers of our Breaſt: I do eſpye him worſhipping the ſolemne Sacrifyce, Both place and tyme conuenient by Fortune doth ariſe: We muſt go craftely to worke for feare we quaking ſtand, Ful hard it is the buyſy charge of guylt to take in hand: But who of Princes ſtandes in awe, let him defye all right, Caſt of the care of honeſty from mind exiled quight, A man vnfit is for the heſt of King a baſhful wight. Hip. O Nurſe, how chaūce thy limping limmes do crepe into this place? With blubbred Cheekes, & leaden lookes with ſad and mourning face? Doth yet my Father Theſeus with health enioy his life? Doth Phaedra yet enioy her health my ſtepdam and his wyfe. Nu. Forgoe theſe feares, and gently come thy bleſſed hap to take, For care conſtrayneth me to mourne with ſorrow for thy ſake, That hurtfully thou looudes thy ſelfe with pangues of plūging payne: Let him rubbe on in miſery whom deſtny doth conſtrayne: But if that any yeld himſelfe to waues of wilful woe, And doth torment himſelfe, deſerues his we le for to forgoe The which he knowes not how to vſe: tuſh, be not ſo demure, Conſideryng how thy yeares do runne, take part of ſport and play, Let mirry Bacchus cauſe thee caſt theſe clogging cares away, And reape the frutte of ſweete delyght belonging to thy yeares, For luſty youth with ſpeedy foote ful faſt away it weares. Earſt tender loue, earſt Venus feedes the young mannes appetite, Be blyth my Boy, why Widow like lieſt thou alone by night? Shake of thy ſollem ſadneſſe man that h rty youth doth ſpill: Huff, royſt it out couragiouſly, take bridle at thy will Let not the flowre of plooming yeares all fru tles fade away. God poynteth euery tyme his taſke, and leades in dus aray Each age by order luſt, as mirth the ſappy youthfull yeares, A forehed frayte with grauity becommeth hoary hayres. Why duſt thou bridle thus thy ſelfe, and dulles thy pregnant wit? The corne that did but lately ſproute aboue the ground, if it Be rancke of roote, yet in the luſke, with entereſt at large Vnto the hoping huſbandman ſhall trauel all diſcharge. With braunched bough aboue the Wood the tree ſhall raiſe his top, Whom ruſty hand of canckred hate, did neuer ſpill nor lop. The pregnant Wittes are euermore more prone to purchaſe prayſe, If noble heartes by freedome franckt be nouriſht from decayes. Thou churliſh countrey Clowne Hodgelike not knowing Courtly life, Delight in drouſy doting youth without a louing wyfe. Doſt thou ſuppoſe that to this end Dame Nature id vs frame, To ſuffer hardnes in this world and to abyde the ſame? With courſes and kerereyes fet the prauncing Steedes to tame? Or bicker els with battails fierce, and broyls of bloudy warre? That ſoueraygne Syre of heauen and earth, when fates do vs detarre, With ſignes and plagues prognoſticate prouided hath with heede, For to repayre the damage done with new begotten ſeede. Go to, let bedding in the world be vſed once no more (That ſtil mankind from age to age vpholdes and doth reſtore) The filthy world deformd would lie in yrkſome vgly ſtay, No flo ing ſhips on wambling Seas ſhould hoyſted Sayles diſplay. No Foule ſhould ſkoare in azur Skie, ne Beaſt to woods repayre, And onely whiſking windes ſhould whirle amid the empty ayre. What diuers dreery deathes driue one mankind to dumpiſh graue? The Seas, the ſword and trayterous traynes whole countries waſted have: Yet for to limit forth our league there is no deſtny thincke, So downe to blackefaſt Stigian dampes we of our ſelues do ſincke. Let youth that neuer felt the ioyes, in Venus lap which lie, Alow the ſolitary life, what euer thou eſpye, An hut liburly ſhall become for tearme of one mans life. And worke it one deſtruction by mutuall hate and ſtrife. Now therfore follow natures courſe, of life the ſoueraygne guyde, Reſort vnto the towne: with men delight thee to abyde. Hip. No life is more deuoyd of ſinne, and free from grieuous thralles, And keeping faſhions old, then that which leauing Towniſh walles, Doth take delight in pleaſant Woods, he is not ſet on fyre, Enraged ſore with burning Byle of couetous deſyre. Who hath addict himſelfe among the mountaynes wilde to liue, Not prickt with pratling peoples bruite, no credit doth he geue. Toth Vulgar ſort diſloyall ſtill, vnto the better part Nor cankred rancour pale doth gnaw his blacke and fretting hart. Nor fickle fauour forceth he, he bound doth not obay The payſe of Scepter proude: but weildes the maſſy ſcepter ſway, At bbing honours gapes he not, nor moyles for fleeting mucke, Remoued farre from houering hope and dread of backward lucke, Not bitter gnawing Enuy rancke teares him with tooth vnkind, Not quaynted with the miſchiefe that in Cittyes and in mynd Of people preſſeth thicke: nor quakes at euery blaſt that flies With guilty conſcience to himſelfe, nor frames himſelfe to lies. Nor couets rich with thouſand pillers cloſe his head to ſhroude, Nor guildes his beams with gliſteryng gold for fancy fond and proude Nor guſhing ſtreames of bloud vpon his innocent Alters flow. Nor Bullockets bright their hundred heads as whyte as flakie Snow, Do yeeld to Axe, whyle ſcattered is on thaulter ſacred grayne, But al the quiet countrey round at wil he doth obtayne. And harmles walketh too and froe amid the open ayre, And onely for the brutiſh Beaſt contriues a trapping ſnare. Another whyle vppon the ſwift Alpheus banckes he walkes Now vp and downe the breary Brakes of buſhy woods he ſtalkes Where luke warme Lernas chriſtall floud with water cleare doth ſhine, And chaunging courſe his Channell out another way doth twyne: And heare the piteous plaining Birds with chirping charmes do chide. And Braunches trembling ſhake whereon ſoft windye puffes do glyde, And ſpreading Beches old do ſtand, to faſt and ſhake my ſhankes: To ſtampe and daunce it doth me good on running Riuers bankes: Or els vpon a withred clod to ſteale a nap of ſleepe, Whereas the fountayne flowes amayne with guſhing waters deepe. Or els among the baulmy flowres out braying ſauours ſweete, Wheras with pleaſant humming noiſe the bubbling brooke doth fleete. The Apples beaten of the tree do rauening hunger ſtaunch, And Strawberyes gathered of the buſh ſoone fill with hungry paunch. He ſhoons aſſaultes, that doth himſelfe from regall royall hold. Eſtates do quaffe theyr dreadful drinke in Bolles of maſſye Golde: How trimme it is water to lap in palme of naked hand: The ſooner drowſye Morpheus byndes thy Browes with ſleepy bande: The careleſſe corpes doth reſt at eaſe vpon the hardeſt Couch: The Cabin baſe hauntes not by Nookes, to prig and filch a pouch: In houſe of many corners blynd his head he doth not hyde, He loues to come abroade and in the light to be eſpyde: The Heauens beare witneſſe of his life, they liued in this wiſe. I thinke, that ſcattred did of Gods in 〈…〉 ariſe. No doting couetous blinde deſtre of Golde in them was found: No ſtones nor ſ akes ſet vp in field did ſtint the parted ground: The ſayling Ship with brazen St •• cut not the waltring waue, But euery man doth know his coaſt and how much he ſhould haue. No hugy 〈◊〉 ta ſed w re, nor Ditches delued deepe, Nor countermured Caſt e ſtrong the walled Townes to keepe. The Souldier was not buſied his blun ed Tooles to whet, Nor rapping Pellets Cannon ſhot the barred Gates downe bet, Nor ſoyle with yoaked Oxe was ſtrainde to bea e the eueting ſhare, The field euen 〈◊〉 of it ſelfe did feede the World with fare, The plentifull aboundant Woods great wealth by nature gaue: A houſe of nature take they had a dimme and darkſome Caue: The couetous minde to ſcrape vp wealth, and deſpret furious ire, And greedy Luſt (that ggeth on the minde all ſet on fire.) Firſt brake the bands, and eger thirſt of bearing ſway ſtept in, To be the ſtrongers rauening pray the weaker did begin, And might went for oppreſſed right: the naked Fiſt found out To ſcratch and cuffe, to box and bum, with dealing blowes about. The knarrie Logs, and ſnaggie 〈◊〉 were framed weapons ſtrong, The ga •• en Tree vngrayned was with Pikes of Yron long. No nor the ruſty Fawcho then did hang along the ſide, Nor Helmet creſt vpon the head ſtood pe ••• ing vp for pri e, Pale ſpightfull griefe 〈…〉 Tooles, and 〈…〉 Mars his braine Contriu'de new ſleights a thouſand kinde of eathes he did ordaine: By meanes hereof eche Land is fild with clot red gore yſhed, With ſtreames of bloud the Seas are dyde to hue of ſanguine red, Then Miſchiefe 〈◊〉 meaſure gan through euery houſe to paſſe, No kinde of vitious villany that pra ••• ſe wanted was. By Brother, Brother reft of Breath, and ake the Fathers Life By hand of Childe, ake murthred was the huſband of his Wyfe. And Mother lewde on miſchiefe ſet deſtroyde their bodies ſeede, I ouerpaſſe the Stepdame with her guilt and haynous deede, And no where pitty planted is, as in the brutiſh beaſt: But womankinde in miſchiefe is ringleader of the reaſt, The inſrument of wickedneſſe enkindling firſt deſire, Whoſe vile vnceſteous whoredome ſee ſo many Townes on fire. So many Nations fall to warre, take Kingdomes ouerthrowne, And rayſed from the ground, to cruſhe ſo many people downe. Let other paſſe: by Iaſons Wyfe Medea may wee finde By her alone, that Women are a plaguy crabbed kinde. NV. Why, for one womans fault of blame ſhall euery one haue part? HIP. I hate, deteſt, abhore, I loth, I curſe them from my heart. Bee't reaſon, right, or Natures law, or vengeance fury fell, It likes me to abhorre them ſtill: the burning fire ſhall dwell, And bide with quenching water firſt, the daungerous quick Sand Shall promiſſe Ships with ſafetineſſe vpon the ſhold to land, And Weſtern Thetis ſoonke aloofe and brencht in deepeſt nooke, Shall force the ruddy Morning Sunne from ſcarlet Skies to looke, The Woolfe ſhall yeelde his fleering Chaps to ſuck the Tet of Do Ere woon by womans loue, to her I crouch and ſtoupe alow. NV. Loue bridles oft with ſnaffling bits the ſtubborne wayward heart, Beholde thy Mothers natiue land in Scythia euery part, The ſaluage women feele the force of Venus yoaking band. Thou onely Childe thy Mother had doſt this welt vnderſtand. HIP. This onely comfort of my Mother muſt I keepe behinde, That leefull vnto me it is to hate all Womankinde. NV. Euen as the ſtiffe and ſturdy Rocks haue waltring waues wythſtoode, And daſheth backe from ſhore aloofe the fomy flapping floode: So lightly be contemnes my talke: but Phaedra runneth mad Becauſe of this my long delay with cruſhing cares y lad: What will ſhe doe? Aye me alas how ſhall ſhe now be ſpead? Her breathleſſe body to the ground drops ſodenly downe dead. A ſallow hue like gaſtly death ouerſtrikes her frenzy Face, Looke vp and ſpeake beholde thy deare ſweete heart doth thee embrace. PHAEDRA. NVTRIX. HIPPOLYTVS. ALas to flote in Waues of woe who mee reuines agayne? To pinch my minde with pining pangues and bitter drunts of nayne. What eaſe to mee it was, when as I lay in traunce at reſt? Why doſt thou thus the pleaſure of renued lyfe deteſt: O heart be bolde, aſſay and ſeeke thy purpoſe to attayne, Be not abaſht, nor faced out with churliſh wordes agayne. Who faintly craueth any boo e, giues courage to deny: The greateſt portion of my crime diſpacht ere now haue I: Shame ſeekes to late to purchaſe place within our baſhfull brow, Sith that in foule and lothſome loue wee haue delight ere now, If I obtayne my will, then ſhall our wedlocke cloake the crime: Succeſſe corrupteth honeſty with wickedneſſe ſometime: HIP. Behold this ſecret place is voyde from any witneſſe bye. PH. My faltring tong doth in my mouth my tale begun denye. Great force conſtrayneth mee to ſpeake, but greater holde my peace, O heauenly Ghoſtes I you proteſt, tis this that doth me pleaſe. HIP. Cannot the minde that couers talke in wordes at will out braſt? PH. Light cares haue words at will. but great doe make vs ſore agaſt. HIP. Mother the griefe y galles your heart come whiſper in mine eare. PH. The name of Mother is to proude a name for me to beare, Importing puiſſant power too much: the fancy of my minde It doth 〈◊〉 , a baſer name of leſſe renowne to finde. Mee (if thou pleaſe) Hippolytus thy Louing Siſter call. Or wayting Maide, and rather ſo: no drudgry ſpare I ſhall, If thou through thicke and thin in ſnowes to trauaile me deſire, Or elſe commaunde mee for to runne through Coales of flaming fire, Or ſet my foote on Pi dus froſen Rocks, it yrkes mee not. Or if thou will me raſhly runne thorow ſcorching fire hot, Or rauening routes of ſaluage beaſtes I will not ſlowly reſt, With gory Launce of naked blade my bowels to vnbreſt. Theſe Ringdomes left to mee in charge weild thou of them the ſway, And take mee as thy humble Mate, it fits mee to •• ay, And thee to giue commaundement, it is no womans ſeate, To claime her Title to the Crowne, to raigne in Parents ſeate. Thou flouriſhing amid the pryde of luſty youthfull race Supply a valiant Prynees roome with Fathers golden Mace, Protect thy humble ſuppliant, defend thy lowly Maide Embraſt in mercies boſome, at thy Feete ſo meekelylayde. Take pitty on a ſtely Widdowes wo, and wretched plight. HIP. The God that raignes aloft, forbid ſuch luckleſſe lot to light. My Father Theſeus ſafe in health will ſtraight returne againe. PH. The lowring Lord that deepe in ſtrōg infernall Gaile doe raigne, And damned vp alwayes to paſſe from Stygian Puddle glum, Whereby to breathing bodies left alone the ground to cum, Shall he let ſcape the Cloyner of his ioyes from ſpouſall bed, Vnleſſe that Plutos fancy fond by doting loue be led: HIP. The righteous Gods will make for him a right retourning way. But while through feare our wauering wils in houering Baliāce ſway, Vpon my brethren will I caſt a due and earneſt care, And thee defend: beleue not that in Widdowes plight yee are: And I my ſelfe will vnto the ſupply my Fathers place, PH. O Loue (alas) of credit light, O Loue of flickring Face, Is this inough that hee hath ſayd? entreatance will I try, Deare chylde ue on my wretched woe, doe not my ſuite deny, That lurcking cloſe doth couch in ſecret mourning breaſt of mee, Faine would I ſpeake: yet loth I am. HIP. What miſchiefe may this bee? P. Such miſchief as ye would not think, could light in Mothers minde. H. With mūbling voyce perplext yee waſte your words againſt y winde. PH. A vapor hoate, and Loue doe glow within my bedlem breſt: It raging ranke no inwarde iuyce vndried leaues in reſt: The ſer ſonk in ſkalded guts through euery vayne doth frie, And ſmothering cloſe in ſeething bloud as flaſhing flame doth flie, With egar ſweeping ſway along vp burning beames on hie. HIP. Enamorde thus with Loue entiere of Theſeus doſt thou rage? PH. Euen ſo it is: the louely lookes of Theſeus former age Which hee a ſweete welfauorde Boy did beare with comly grace, When prety dapper cutted Beard on cleare complexio de Face Gan ſproute, on naked Chin, when hee the kennels clottred bloode Beheld of mongrell Minotaur, and crooking Maze withſtoode By groping long vntwined thredes the beames of beawty bright That ſhone th •• 〈◊〉 his Face, his riſpen lockes with labels bight, Smooth ſtroked lay, his ſcarlet Cheekes by nature paincted bright Pouldred with ſpots of golden gloſſe, and ſharpe aſſaults of Loue Preuayled in his fleſhly armes: what grace doth ſhine aboue In the Dianaes Face, or fiery creſted Phoebus myne, Or elſe in comely count'naunce of this louely face of thine, Such Theſeus had when Ariadnaes Eye he did delight: Thus portly pacing did he biare his noble head vpright. It is no counterfeyted gloſſe that ſhineth in thy Face, In thee appeares thy manly Fathers ſterue and lowring Grace. Thy Mothers crabbed count'naunce cake reſembled in ſome part Puts in full well a ſeemelyneſſe, to pleaſe the Lookers hart. The Scythian awfull Maieſty with Greekiſh fauour ſweete Appeares: if thou had with thy Syre attempt the Seas of Creete, (One of thoſe ſeauen from Athens ſent elect by luckleſſe lot To pay ſuch bloudy tribute, which King Minos of them got. The rauening and bloudthirſty Minotaurus fowle to feede) My Siſter Ariadne would, for thee haue ſpunne the threede. Therewith in crafty compaſt Maze to leade thee to and fro, In vgly Laberynthus long returning from thy Fo. Thee, thee O Siſter deare whereſo in all the Heauen thou are, And ſhineſt bright with blaſing beames tranſform'de into a Starre, I thee beſeech come ſuccour mee with like diſtreſſe now cloyde: Alas vs ſtely Siſters twaine one kinred hath deſroyde. The Sire thy ſmart, the ſonne hath brewd the bane that me doth lees. Beholde an Impe of royall race layde humbly at thy Knees, Yet neuer ſtaynde, and vndefilde, an harmeleſſe innocent, To thee alone of all the Worlde my crowching Knees are bent, And for the nones my hawty heart, and Princely courage ſtout I did abate, that humbly thee with teares entreate I mought. HIP. O ſoueraygne Sire of Gods, doſt thou abide ſo long to heare This vile abhomination? ſo long doſt thou forbeare To ſee this haynous villany? if now the Skies be cleare, Wilt thou henceforth at any time with furious raging hand Dart out thy cracking thunder dint, and dreadfull lightnings brand? Now battred downe wt bouncing bolts the rumbling Skies let fall That foggy Cloudes with duſky drouping day 〈◊〉 couer all, And force the backward ſtarring ſtartes to ſlide a ſlope wythall Thou ſtarry creſted crowne, and Titan prankt with beamy blaſe Come out, with ſtaring buſh vpon thy kindreds guilt to gaſe. Daſh out and drowne thy leaming lampe ecliſde in glummy Skyes, To ſhrink in ſhimmering ſhape: why doth thy right hand not aryſe O guide of Gods and men? how haps the worlde yet doth not burne, Enkindled with three forked brand? on me thy thunder turne, Daſh out on mee thy bobbing bolt, and let thy fiery flake Whirlde out with force, burnt Cinders of my waſted Carcaſſe make: For guilty (Ioue) I guilty am, deſerued death I haue, My Stepdames Fancy I haue fed: ſhall I moſt ſinfull ſlaue, Be worthy thought to blot my Fathers honorable Bed? Canſt thou for miſchiefe ſuch through mee alone be lightly ſped? O Caitiue thou of womankinde for guilt that heares the bell, Whoſe enterpriſed hainous euill doth paſſingly excell, Thy Monſter breeding Mothers fault with whoredome ſhee alone Def •• de her ſelfe, when ſtorming ſighes with ſorrow gan ſhee grone, Through beaſtly luſt of Bull: till it the Minotaurus ſter In act of generation, had quencht her oule deſier: And yet the time concealed long, the grim twiſhaped ſeede At length bewrayd with Bullike browes, thy Mothers naughty deede, The doubted Infant did diſcloſe: that wicked wombe ſhee bare. With thriſe, yea, foure times bleſſed Fate of lyfe depriu'de yee are, Whom ſwolne of waltring Seas haue ſonck, me cankred hate of breath Diſpoyled ha h, and traytrous traynes haue quelde by daunting death. With Stepdames banes and ſorcery O Father, Father myne, I rue thy lot, not to be ſlayne of milder Stepdame thyne. This miſchiefe greater, greater faire the wickedneſſe doth paſſe That by Medea deſpret Dame of Colchis practiſde was. PH. And I doe know, what vncouth luck vpon our ſtock hath light, The thing that we ſhould ſhun, we ſeeke, it is not in my might To rule my ſelfe: through burning fire eunne after the I ſhall, Through raging Seas, & craggy Rocks, through fleeting Ryuers all, Which boyling waters ruffling rayſe, what way ſo goe thou will, I bedlem Wight with frantick fits will follow, follow ſtill. O ſtately Lorde before thy feete yet fall I once agayne. HIP. Doe not with ſhameleſſe fawning Pawes my ſpotleſſe body ſtaine. What meaneth this? with hawſing mee t'imbrace ſhe doth begin: Draw, draw my ſword, with ſtripes deſeru'de Ile pay her on the ſkin: Her hayre about my left hand wound, her head I backward wri e, No bloud Diana better ſpent thine Aulter yet hath dyde. PH. Hippolytus, now doſt thou graunt to mee mine owne deſire, Thou cooles my ramping rage, this is much more than I require, That ſauing thus mine honeſty I may be geuen to death, By bloudy ſtroake receiued of thy band to looſe my breath. HIP. Auaunt, auaunt, preſerue thy lyfe, at my hand nothing craue, This field Sword that thou haſt toucht no longer will I haue. What bathing lukewarme Tanais may I defilde obtaine, Whoſe clenſing watry Channell pure may waſhe mee cleane againe? Or what Meotis muddy m are, with rough Barbarian waue That boardes on Pontus roring Sea? not Neptune graundſire graue With all his Ocean foulding floud can purge and waſh away This dunghill foule of ſinne: O woode, O ſaluage beaſt I ſay: NVT. Thy crime detected is: O ſoule, why droupes thou all agaſt? Let vs appeach Hippolytus with fault vpon him caſt: And let vs lay vnto his charge, how he by might vniuſt Deflowre would his Fathers Wyfe with miſchiefe, miſchiefe muſt Concealed bee: the beſt it is, thy foe firſt to inuade, Sith that the crime is yet vnknowne who can be witneſſe made, That either firſt wee enterpriſde, or ſuffred of him then? Come, come, in haſt Athenians, O troupes of truſty men Help, help, Hippolytus doth come, hee comes, that Villaine vile, That Rauiſher, and Lecher foule, perforce woulde vs defile. Hee threatens vs denouncing death, and glittering Blade doth ſhake, At her who chaſtly doth withſtand, and doth for terrour quake: Lo headlong hence for life and death hee tooke him to his flight, And leaues his Sword in running raſh, with gaſtly feare afright: A token of his enterpriſe deteſtable wee keepe, Sirs cheariſh her, that ſtorming ſighes with penſiue breaſt doth weepe. Her ruffled hayre, and ſhattred Locks ſtill let them daggle downe, This witneſſe of his villany ſo beare into the Towne. (O Lady mine be of good cheare. Plucke vp your ſprights againe,) Why doſt thou tearing thus thy ſelfe abhorre all peoples ſight? Not blinde Miſchaunce but fancy wont to make aſhameleſſe Wight. Chorus. HIPPOLYTVS euen as the rageing ſtorme away doth fly, More ſwift than whirling Weſtern wynde vptumbling cloudes in Sky, More ſwift then flaſhing flames, that catch their courſe with ſweeping ſway, When Stars ytoſt with whiſking windes long fiery Drakes diſplay. Fame (wondring at of aldertime our Aunceſtours renowne) Fare well with thee, and beare away olde worſhip from our Towne. So much thy beauty brighter ſhines, as much more cleare and fayre, The golden Moone with glorio s Globe full furniſht in the Ayre Doth ſhine, when as her fiery tips of wayning hornes doe cloſe, When lifting vp her fulgent face in ambling Waine ſhe goes, Vpon her nightwatch to attend, the Starres of leſſer light Their darckned Faces hide, as hee the Meſſenger of night That watchword geues of th'euening tide and Heſperus hee hight, That glading earſt was bath'de in Seas, and hee the ſame agayne When ſhedes be ſhrunck. doth then the name of Lucifer obtayne. Thou Bacchus bleſſed barne of Ioue in warlicke India borne, Thou Lad that euermore doſt weare thy hayry buſh vnſhorne, Whoſe Iaueling tuft with Iuy bunch, the Tygres makes adred, And doſt with labelde Myter vſe to pranck thy horny hed, Hippolytus his ſtaring Locks thou Bacchus ſhalt not ſtayne, To woonder at thy louing lookes too much doe thou refrayne, Whom (as the people doe report) the Ariadne bright, For beauties name preferde before Bacchus that Bromius hight. A brittle Iewell beauty is on mortall men employde, Thou gift that for a ſeaſon ſhort of Mankinde arte enioyde, How ſoone alas with feathered foote hence doſt thou fading ſlide? The partching Sommers vapour hoate in Vers moſt pleaſaūte pride So withers not the Meadowes greene, (when as the ſcorching Sūne) In Tropick ligue of burning Crab full hoate at Noone doth runne, And on her ſhorter clowdy Wheeles vnhorſeth ſoone the night. With wanny Leaues downe hang the heads of withred Lillies whight The balmy bloomes and ſprouting flo re do leaue the naked ed As beauty bright whoſe radiant beams in corauld Cheekes is ſpred, Is daſhed in the twincke of Eye: no day as yet did paſſe, In which not of his beauty reft ſome pearles perſon was. For Fauour is a fleetyng thing: what wight of any wit Wil vnto frayle and fickle ioy his confidence commit? Take pleaſure of it whyle thou mayſt, for Tyme with ſtealing ſteps Wil vnder mint, on howre paſt ſtrayght in a worſer leps: Why flyeſt thou to the wildernes, to ſeeke thy ſuccour there? Thy beauty bydes not ſafer in the wayleſſe woods then here. If Tytan hoyſt his totteryng Cart on poynt of ful midday, Thee ſhrowded cloſe among the brakes the Naids wil aſſay, A gadding troupe that beautys B yes do locke in fountaynes fayre. To frame their ſeate then vnto thee in ſenſeles ſ eepe repayre, Shal wanton Fayries, Nymphes of Frithes, y on the Hilles do walke, Which Dryade mountayne Goblins haunt, that vſe on hilles to ſtalke: Or when from high Starbearing poale Diana downe did looke On thee that next old Arcades in heauen thy ſeate haſt tooke, Shee could not weilde her weltring wayne, and yet no foggy cloude. Eclipſt her gleaming Globe, but we with incking Pans aloude, Gan make a noyſe, agriſed at her dead and glowing light We deemd hir char id with Magicke verſe of Theſſant witches ſpright But thou didſt cauſe hir buſines, and madeſt her in a maze, Whyle at thy pleaſant louely lookes the Goddeſſe ſtoode in gaze, That rules the rayne of cloudy night ſhe ſtopt her ru ning race, God graunt that ſeldome byting froſt may pinch this comely face. Let ſeldome ſcorching Sunny beams thy Cheekes with freckles die: The Marble blue in quarry pittes of Parius that doth lie, Beares not ſo braue a glimſyng gloſſe as pleaſant ſe •• ues thy face Whoſe browes with manly maieſty ſupport an awful grace. And forehead fraught with grauity of Fathers countnaunce old: His Iuory colourd necke although compare to Phoebe ye would, His lockes (that neuer lacking knew) it ſelfe diſplaying wyde On ſhoulder poyntes doth ſet them out, and alſo doth them hyde. Thy curled forhead ſeemes thee well, and eake thy not ed hayre, That crumpled lies vndight in thee a manly grace doth beare. Thou Gods (though fierce and valiant) perforce doſt chaſe, and farre Doſt ouermatch in length of limmes, though yet but young thou arre. Thou heares as big & boyſtrous brawnes as Hercules: thy breaſt, Then Champion Mars more bourly bolſtred out with broader cheſt: On back of horn toofed Steedes if vawting thou do ryde, With Bridle in thyne arriue hand more handſome canſt thou guyde. The trampling Cyllar horſe of Spart, then Princely Caſtor could, Thy Letherne loope amid thy dart with former fingers hould, And driue thy launce with all thy pith, the actiue men of Creete, That with their pitched dartes afarre do learne the marke to bit. They ſhall not hurle a ſlender Reede, but after Parthian guyſe To ſhoote an arrow if they liſt into the open Skies, Vnſped without ſome Bird attaynt it ſhal not light on ground, Vnbath'd with lukewarme bloud of guttes in gory ſmoking wound, And from amid the lofty Cloudes downe ſhalt thou fetch thy pray: Few men (marke wel the tyme) haue borne beauty vnplagude away. God ſend thee better lucke, and graunt thy noble perſonage May paſſe vnto the happy ſteps and ſtretch to dumpiſh age. What miſchiefe vnattempt eſcapes a Womans witleſſe rage? Moſt haynous crymes ſhee meanes to lay to guiltles youngmās charge And thinkes to make her matter good with hayre thus rent at large, She towſeth eake the pranking of her head with watred plantes, Her ſlye deuyſe no crafty kind of womans fetches wantes. But who is this that in his face ſuch princely port doth beare? Whoſe lofty lookes with ſtately pace hie vauntſt his head doth reare? Lyke luſty young Pyrithous, he looketh in the face, But that a faynting fallow pale his bleakiſh Cheekes diſgrace, And filthy baggage hangeth on his haſh hayre rayſde vpright, Lo Theſeus, it is agayne reſtoard to earthly light:
THE THIRDE ACTE. Theſeus, Nutrix, AT length I ſcapt the glowinge glades of grim eternall Night, And eake the vnderpropping poale, that each infernall Spright Doth muffie in, ſhut vp in ſhades loe how my dazelled eyes Can ſcant abyde the long deſſred light of Marble Skies. Eleusis now fowre offringes of Triptolemus deuydes, And counterpayſed Day with Night now foure tymes Libra hydes. I earneſt in my Parlous toyle in doubt what lucke to haue Twixt dread of gaſtly Death, and hope my feeble life to ſaue, Some ſparke of life ſtil in my breahles limmes abyding was, When as embarkt on erkeſome Stix Alcides downe did paſſe, To ſuccour me in dire diſtreſſe, who when the hellicke hound From Tartares grieſly gates in Chaynes he dragd aboue the ground, And alſo me he caryed vp into the World agayne My tyred limmes doth fappy pith of former ſtrength reſtrayne, My feble faltring legges do quake, what lugging toyle it was From bottom deepe of Phlegethon to world aloofe to paſſe? What dreary dole & mourning noyſe is this that beates myne eares? Let ſome declare it vnto mee: who blubbred ſo with teares Lamenting loud and languiſhing within our gates appeares? This entertaynment ſit is for a gueſt that comes from Hell. Nu. A ſtubburne heart and obſtinate in Phaedras breaſt doth dwell, With deſpret mind to ſlay her ſelfe our teares ſhe doth deſpyſe, And giuing vp the gaſping Ghoaſt, alas my Lady dyes. Th. Why ſhould ſhe kill herſelfe? why die, hir ſpouſe being come againe Nu For this (my Lord) with haſty death ſhe would her ſelfe haue ſlame. Th. Theſe troblous wordes ſome perlous thing I wot not what to tell Speake plain: what lumpe of glutting griefe her laded heart doth quei She doth complayne her caſe to none, but penſluely and ſad She keepes it ſecrete to hir ſelfe, determind thus ſhee had, To beare aboute with her the bane, wherewith ſhe meanes to die. Hie, hie thee faſt, I pray thee now, now haue wee neede to hye. Our Pallace lockt with ſtately ſtoulpes ſet open by and by. Theſeus, Phaedra. O Madame Mate of Spouſall bedde thus doſt thou entertayne The comming of thy louing Spouſe? and welcom home agayne Thy long deſyred Hoſbandes face? why takes thou not away My Sword out of my hand, and doſt not cheare my Sprites (I ſaye) Nor ſheweſt me what doth the breath out of the body chaſe? Ph. Alas my valiant Theſeus euen for thy royall mace, Wherwith thy Kingdome thou doſt weild, and by the noble raygne Of thy belo'ud poſterity, and comming home agayne, And for the worſhip that is due vnto my fatall graue, O let me die and ſuffer me, deſerued death to haue. Th. What cauſe compelleth thee to die? Ph. If I the cauſe of death Diſcloſe, then ſhall I not obtayne the looſyng of my breath: Th. No worldly wight (ſaue I my ſelfe alone) the ſame ſhall heare, Art thou affrayd to tel it in thy huſbandes baſhful eare? Speake out, thy ſecretes ſhrowd I ſhall within my faythful breſt. Ph. What thou would other to conceale, kepe thou it firſt in reſt. Th. Thou ſhalt not ſuffred be to die: Ph. From him that wiſheth Death, Death neuer can be ſeperate. Th. The crime that loſſe of breath Ought to reuenge, ſhew it to me. Ph. Forſooth becauſe I liue. Th. Alas do not my trilling teares thy ſtony ſtomacke grieue? Ph. It is the ſweeteſt death, when one doth lothſome life forſake, Bereft of ſuch as ſhould for him moſt woful weeping make. Th. Stil ſtandes ſhe mum? ye croked, old, ilfauord, hoblinge Trotte, Hir Nurſe for ſtripes and clogging bandes ſhall vtter euery iotte, That ſhee forbid her hath to tell: in yron chaynes her bynd, Let tawing whips wring out perforce the ſecrets of her mynd: PH. Now I my ſelfe wil ſpeak: ſtay yet. TH. Why doſt thou •• ne aſ i s From me thy weeping Countenance? thy teares why doſt thou hide That guſhing ſodaine frō thine eyes ſtreame downe thy cheekes apace & Why hideſt thou thy flowing floudes with Coate before thy Face? PH. Thee, thee, Creator of the Neauens to witneſſe I doe call, And thee O glittering fiery glede of Chriſtall Sky with all, And Phoebus thou from whom at firſt our royall Race hath roon. With fawning face & flattring words in ſuite I was not woon. For naked ſword, & thundring thre s, appauled was I not: My bruſed bones abode the blowe, and ſtripes when ſore he ſmote: This blemiſh black of foule defame my bloud ſhall purge agayne. TH Declare what villaine is he y our honour ſo doth ſlayne? PH. Whom leaſt yee would miſtruſt. TH. To know who tis, ful ſore I long PH. This Sword wil tel, which ſore afright when people thick in thrōg Reſorted faſt, the Leacher vile for haſt did leaue behinde, Becauſe the people preaſing faſt he dreeded in his minde: TH. Ah out alas, O woe is mee, what villany ſee I? Alas what vncouth Monſter fowle of miſchiefe I eſpy? Beholde the royall Iuory engrau'de and purired fine, Emboaſt with golden ſtuddes, vpon th'enameld Haſt doth ſhine, (The Iewell of Actea lande) but whyther fled is hee? PH. With light Heele running ſore diſmaide theſe ſruants did him ſee? TH. O ſacred holineſſe, O Ioue betweene whoſe mighty hands The Marble Poale with weltring ſway in courſe directed ſtands, And thou that ſecond Scep er weilds in fomy fighting waue, Why doth this curſed broode with ſuch this wicked vengeance raue? Hath he bene foſtred vp in Greece? or craggy Taurus wilde Among hard rugged Rocks, and Caues, ſome ſauage Scythian Childe? Or elſe in brutiſh Colchis Ile by Deſart Phaſis flood? Cat after kinde hee is, and will th'unkindly Baſtard blood Returne vnto his kinreds courſe, whence firſt his ligne hee clames. This frantick fury vp and downe comes of the warlicke Dames, To hate the loyall leagues of loue, and ſhunning long the vſe Of Cupids campe, with tag, and rag, her body to abuſe, Become as good as euer twangd: O deteſtable kinde, No better Soyle by any meanes can chaunge thy filthy minde. The brutiſh beaſts themſelues doe Ioath th'abuſe which Venus drawes, And ſimple ſhamefaſtneſſe it ſelfe obſerueth Natures lawes: Where is the brag of Maieſty, and fayned portly grace Of manly minde, that hateth new, and olde things doth embrace? O double dealing life, thou clokes deceiptful thoughtes in breſt, And ſetteſtout a forhead fayre where frounced mynd doth reſt: The ſaucie Iacke with baſhful brow doth malipiertnes hide: The raſhnes of the deſpret Dicke by ſtilneſſe is vnſpide. With ſhow of right religion knaues villany mayntayne, And guileful mealemouthd Gentlemen do hold with ſpeaking playne: The daynty wanton Carpet Knights of hardnes boaſt and prate, That Woodraunger, that brainſicke beaſt who liu'd in chaſt eſtate An vndefyled Bachiler thou rude and homely clowne, Thus doſt thou watch thy tyme, to breede this blot in my renowne? To make me Cuckold firſt of all did it delyght thy mynd, Firſt falling to thy ſpouſall ſport with miſchiefe moſt vnkind, Now, now, to thee ſupernal Ioue moſt hearty thankes I yeeld, That with my firſt Antiope to dreary death I quelde, That gone to dampiſh Stygian Dennes I left thee not behynd Thy Mother: go, go Vagabond rawnge, rawnge, about to finde Straunge forraine ſoyles, and outcaſt landes aloofe at world his end, And Iles encloſd with th'Ocean floud to hell thy ſoule ſhall ſend: Beneath among th'Antipodes thy ſelfe of harbring ſped, Though in the vtmoſt lurking nooke, thou ſhroude thy miching heade, Aboue the griſly Pallaces thou climbe of lofty Poale, Or maiſt aboue the clottring Snow aduaunce thy curſed Soule, Beyond the brunt of Winter flawes and threatning rigour paſſe And ſtormy wrath with rumbling rough of yſſe Boreas, With pengeance, vengeance violent faſt hurling after thee, With daunting plagues and peſtilence thy ſinnes ſhal ſcourged bee. For life and death, about the world in euery lurking hoale. O fugitiue I ſhal not ceaſe ſtil to purſue thy ſoule. But ſeeke and ſearch for thee I ſhall in landes that lye a farre, Al corners blynd and caues ſhut vp, Dennes lockt with bolt and barre A thouſand wayes vnpaſſable no place ſhal me withſtand. My curſinges blacke ſhal light on thee there where reuenging hande With weapon cā not worke y harme: thou knoweſt that Neptuue great My Syre who flotes on floudes, & waues, with forked Mace doth beat Geue licence freely vnto me three boones to chuſe and craue, Which willingly the God hath graunt, and ſworne I ſhal it haue Proteſting vgſome Stygian Lake, and hallowed hath his vow: O breaker of the wraſtling waues, auouch thy promiſe now. Let neuer more Hippolitus behold th'eclipſed light, And for the Fathers wrathful rage the curſed child downe ſmight, To wa le among the gaſtly ſ rites o Father bend thy might, To giue (alas) this lothſome ayde vnto thy needy Sonne, I of thy Maieſty deuyne exact not to be donne. This chiefeſt bone, til puiſſant payſe of ylles do vs oppreſſe: In bottom deepe of boylyng Tartar pit, and ſore diſtreſſ , In griſly Lymbo Iawes nigh garglefaced Ditis dimme, Amid the crumpled threatning browes of Hellick Pluto grim, To claime thy promiſe made to mee, as then I didde refrayne, Now Syre thy fayth by promiſe due perfourme to me agayne. Yet doſt thou ſtay why rumble not the waltring waues yet buſht, Through foggy cloude in duſky ſkits with ſtormy blaſtes utruſht. Vnfold the mantel blacke of Night, and roll away the Skies, Enforce the fighting floods braſt out with mounting waues to ryſe And coniure vp the water hagges that in the Rockes do keepe, The Ocean ſurges ſwellyng hi caſt vp from bottom deepe. Chorus. O Nature Grandame greate of Heauenly Sprites, Eake Ioue that guides Olimpus mighty ſway, That rakes the race of twinckling heauēly lightes On ſpinning Spheare and order doſt for aye The ſtragling courſe of roaming planets hie, And weildes about the whirling Axeltree The weltring Poales, th'eternal courſe of Skie To keepe in frame, what workes ſuch care in thee That earſt the cold which hoary winter makes Vnclothes the naked wood, and now agayne Theſh ades returne vnto the breary brakes Now doth the ſtarre of Sommer Lion raygne, VVhoſe ſcalded necke with boyling heate doth frie, Perbraking flames from fiery oming iawes: VVith ſcorching heate the parched corne do drie: Ech ſeaſon ſo his kindly courſe in drawes. But thou that weildes theſe thinges of maſſy might, By whom the hugy world with egal payſe Euen Ballanced doth keepe in compaſſe right, Each Spheare by meaſurd weight that iuſtly ſwaiſe, Alas why doſt thou beare a retc les breaſt Toward mankind? not caſting any care That wicked men with miſchiefe be oppreſt, And eake to ſee that goodmen wel do fare Dame Fortune topſieturuy turnes at wil The world, and deales her dole with blinded hand, And foſters vice mayntayning miſchiefe ill. Fowle luſt triumphes on good men brought in band Deceipt in ſtately Court the ſway doth weild, In Lordinges levvde the vulgar ſort delight, With glee to ſuch the Mace of might they yeeld. Some magiſtrates they do both loue and ſpight, And pen iue vertue brought to bitter bale, Receyues revvard that doth of right aryſe, The continent to Priſon neede doth hale, The Leacher raygnes enhaunced by his vice. O fruitles ſhame, O counterfayted port. But vvhat nevves may this meſſenger novv bring, Who vvith maine pace comes poaſting in this ſort, And ſtayes vvith mourning countnance at the Kinge.
THE FOVRTH ACTE. Nuntius, Theseus, O Heauy happe and cruell chaunce of Seruantes ſlauiſh ſtate, Why am I Poaſt to bring the newes of this il fa ord fate? Th. Be not abaſht the ruthful wracke with courage to declare: My breaſt agaynſt the brunt of broyles ſtil armed I prepare, Nun. My foltring tongue doth ſpeach vnt my glutting griefe denye. Th. Our ſtocke with ſorrow ſhuken ſore what cares do cruſh eſcrie. Nun. Hippolytus (ay woe is me) is ſlayne by doleful death. Th. Now Father do I know my Sonne bereaued of his breath, For why the Leacher life is loſt: ſhew in what ſort he dide. Nun. In all poaſt haſt as fugitiue to ſhunne the Towne he hyde Once hauing caught his cutting courſe apace he ſcuddes away, His prauncing Pelfrayes ſtraite he doth with Collers cloſe araye: With curbed bittes their ſ affled heads at wil he brydles in, Then talking much vnto himſelfe to curſe he doth beginne His natiue ſoyle: alas deare Father, Father ſtil he cryes: And angry laſheth with his whip, whyle looſe his Bridle lies: Then ſodenly a hugy ſwolue gan ſwel amid the deepe, And ſtarteth vp into the ſtarres no pipling wind doth ſweepe Along the Seas in Heauen ſo lith no noyſe at all there was: The Seas ful calme euen as their kindly Tyde doth driue them, paſſe. Nor yet no boyſterous Southerne wynd the Sycill ſand turmoyles. Nor yet with fomie ramping ſurge the raging gulph vp boyles, Heaude vp by Weſterne puffes: when as the rockes with flappyng flaſh Do ſhake and drownd Lucates cliue the hoary fome doth daſh. The tombling waues togeather toſt on hils are heaped hie, The ſwelling ſwolue with Monſter much to land alofe doth flye, Nor only ſhaken ſhips in Seas do ſu •• er wracke hereby: The land in hazard lyes of ſtormes a waltring waue is old In ot ring wiſe a wallowing gulph with winding compas fold, Driues downe I know not what withall: a flat vpriſyng new An head aboue the water brim doth rayſe the Starres to vew. In foggie cloud eclipſed is Apollos duſky gleede, And Scyros Rocks whom Trumpe of Fame aduaunſt by dreary deede Corynthus eake whom double Sea on eyther ſide aſſayle: While greatly we agrieſh theſe thinges do languiſhing bewayle, The belking Seas yell out the grunting Rockes with all do rore The ſlabby Cliue doth eke, fro whence the water ebde before, It frothes, and keping courſe by courſe it ſp wes the waters out, As doth Phyſeter fiſh (that flittes the Ocean Coaſt about) And gulping doth from yawning throat his flouds of water ſpo te. The ſhaken ſurge did tottre ſtrayte and brake it ſelfe in twayne: With wracke (more violent then wee did feare) it ruſht awayne Agaynſt the ſhore, beyond the bankes it breakes into the land: And hideous Monſter followes: theſe for feare did quaking ſtand Th. What ſhape that vncouth Monſter had and body vaſt declare. Nu. A boaſting Bull, his marble necke aduaunced hye that bare, Vprayſd his lofty briſtled Mayn on curled forhead greene With ſhaggy eares prickt vp his diuers ſpeckled hornes were ſeene. (Whom Bacchus earſt poſſeſſed had, who tames the Cattel wyld, And eake the God that horne in flouds was bred a water Chyld) Now puffing he perbraketh flames, and now as leaming light With ſparckling beams his goggle eyes do glare and gliſter bright. His greaſy larded necke (a marke for to be noted well) With rough and knobby curnels hie out bumping big do ſwell. His ſnorting Noſtrilles wyde do grunt and yawning gulphes they ſoſſe, His breaſt and throtebag greeniſhly are daw d with clammy moſſe His ſide along begrymed is with Lactuſe red of hue, On ſnarling knots his wrinkled rumps toward his face he drue, His ſcaly haunch, and lagging tayle moſt vgly dragges hee vp, As Priſtis in the deepe of Seas the ſwallowed Keele doth ſup, Or elſe perbraketh out agayne the vndigeſted pup. The earth did quake, the Cattel feard about the field do rampe, The hunter ſtarke with chilling feare beginnes to ſtare and ſtampe, The he •• dman had no mynd his ſcattrynge Heyfers to purſue, The Deere amazed brake the pale and bad the Laundes adue. But onely yet Hippolytus. deuoyde of faynting feare His neyng horſes with the raynes of Bridles hard doth beare, With w nted woordes he cheareth vp his nymble Nagges afraide: A ſt epe hie way at Argos lies with ſtony cliues decaide, That nodding ouerhangs the Sea, which vnderfleetes that wayes: That vgly Royle heere heates him ſelfe, and rag ng wrath doth rayſe, And kindling courage hoate, him force with burning breaſt aſſayes, And chauflag eft himſelfe before gan fret with angry hart. Lo then into a ſcouring courſe on ſodayne doth hee ſtart, With whirl •• g pace he girding forth doth ſcarcely touch the ground, Lighting a front the trimbling Ea t with glaring Eyes hee glow d. Then alſo doth thy threatning Son with lowring browes vpſtart, Nor chaungeth Counte aunce, but ſpeakes with ſtout couragious hart. This fooliſh feare doth not appaule my bold and hardned breſt, It comes to mee by kinde, that B lls by mee ſhould ee oppreſt. His Steedes defying ſtrait the R ynes plonge forward with the Cart, As rage did prick them, ſore afright beſtoe the way they ſtart. This bias way among the Rocks they raunge, and wander wyde, But as the Pylot (leaſt the Barke ſhould totter to one ſyde) Doth beare it euen in wraſtling waues: ſo while his horſes ſkip, He ruleth them, now raines them hard, and now with winding whip Free laſhes on their buttocks layes: his Foe doth him purſue, Now ſtep by ſtep, now meeting full agaynſt his face hee flue. Prouoking terror euery where. No further fly they might: The horned beaſt with butting Brow s gan run vpon them right. The trampling Gennets ſtraught of wits doe ſtraight way breake their ray, The ſtruggle ſtriuing hard to ſlip the Collar it they may. And prauncing on their hinder Feete, the burden hurle on ground: Thy Son flat falling on his Face, his body faſt was bound, Entangled in the winding ropes, the more he ſtriues to looſe The ſlipping knots, he faſter ticks within the ſ ding nooſe. The Horſes doe perceyue the broyle: and with the Waggon light. While none there is to rule the Raynes, with ſki tiſh feare afright At randon out they ramping runne, (euen as the Welkin hye The Cart that miſt his woonted waight, diſdayning in the Skye The dreery day that falſely was commit vnto the Sun, From off the fiery Marble Poale that downe a ſkew doth run, Flang Phaeton topſ e toruey toſt) his bloud begdres the ground: And dingd agaynſt the r gged Rocks his head doth oft rebound: The brambles rent his haled hayre the edged flinty ſtones, The beauty batter of his Face, and breake his craſhing bones: At Mouth his blaring tongue hangs out with ſqueaſed eyne out daſht, His Iawes & Skull doe crack, abrode his ſpurting Braynes are paſht, His curſed beauty thus defoylde with many wounds is ſpent: The iotting Wheeles do grinde his guts, and drenched ſims they rent. At length a Stake wt Trūchion burnt his ripped Paūch hath caught, From riued Grine toth Nauell ſtead within his wombe it raught: The Cart vpon his Maiſter pawſde agaynſt the ground ycruſht, The Fellies ſtuck within the wounds, and out at length they ruſh : So both delay and Maiſters limbs are broke byſtreſſe of Wheeles: His dragling guts then trayle about the wincing horſes heeles. They thumping with their horny Hooues agaynſt his Belly kick, From burſten Paunch on hea es his blouddy bowells tumble thick: The ſcratting Bryers on the Brakes with needle poynted pricks His gory Carkas all to race with ſpelles of thorny ſticks And of his fleſh ech ragged ſhrub a gub doth ſnatch and rent, His men (a mourning troupe God knowes) with brackiſh teares eſprēt Doe ſtray about the fielde, whereas Hippolytus was tore: A piteous ſigne is to bee ſeene by tracing long of gore: His howling Dogges their Maiſters limmes with licking follow ſtill: The earneſt toyle of woful Wights can not the coars vp fill, By gathering vp the gobbets ſparſt and broken lumps of fleſh. Is this the fla nting brauery that comes of beauty freſh? Who in his Fathers Empyre earſt, did raigne as pryncely Peare The Heyre apparant to the Crowne, and ſhone in honour cleare, Lyke to the glorious Stars of Heauen, his Limmes in piec s ſmall Are gathred to his fatall Graue, and ſwept to funerall. TH. O Nature that preuaylſte too much, (alas) how doſt thou binde Whyth bonds of bloud the Parents breaſt? how loue wethe by kinte? Maugre our Teeth whom gullty ecke we would haue reſt of breath? And yet lamenting with my teares I doe bewayle thy death. NVN. None can lament with honeſty that which he wiſht deſtroyde. TH. The hugi ſt heape of woes by this I thinke to be enioyde, When flickering Fortunes curſed wheele doc cauſe vs cry alas, To rue the wrack of things which carſt wee wiſhed brought to paſſe. NVN. If ſtil thou keepe thy grudge, why is the Face wt ſeates beſpre TH. Becauſe I ſlue him, not becauſe I loſt him, I repent. Chorus. WHat heape of happes do tumble vpſyde downe Th'eſtate of man? leſſe raging Fortune flies On little things: leſſe leaming lightes are throwne By hand of Ioue, on that which lower lies. The homely couch ſafe merry hartes do keepe: The Cotage baſe doth giue the Golden ſleepe. The lofty Turrets top that cleaues the cloude VVithſtandes the ſturdy ſtormes of Southren wynde, And Boreas boyſterous blaſtes with threatning loud Of bluſteryng Corus ſhedding ſhowres by kinde. The r •• ing Dales do ſeldome noiance take, Byding the brunt of Lightninges ſlaſhing flake. Th'aduaunced creſt of Caucaſus the great Did quake with bolt of lofty thundring Ioue: VVhen he from cloudes his thunder dintes did beat, Dame Cybels Phrygian fryth did trembling moue: King loue in hawty heauen ful ſore affright The nigheſt thinges with weapons doth he ſmyght. The ridges low of Vulgar peoples houſe Striken with ſtormes do neuer greatly ſhake: His Kingdomes coaſt Ioues thundring thumpes do ſouſe: VVith wauering winges that houre his fligth doth take Nor flitting Fortune with her tickle wheele Lets any wight aſſured ioy to feele. VVho in the VVorld beholds the Statr s ful bright, And chereful day forſaking gaſtly Death, His ſorrowfull returne with groning ſpright He rewes, ſith it depriude his Sonne of breath He ſeeth his lodging in his court agayne, More doleful is then ſharpe Auernus payne. O. PALLAS vnto whom all Athens land Due homage oweth, becauſe that THESEVS thine Among vs worldly Wights againe doth ſtand, And ſeeth the Heauens vpon himſelfe to ſhine. And paſſed hath the parlous myrie Mud Of ſtinking Stygian Fen, and filthy Flud. Vnto thy rauening Vncles dreery Gaile O Lady chaſte not one Ghoſt doſt thou owe, The Hellick Tyrant knovves his perfect tale. Who from the Court this ſhriking ſhrill doth throwe? What miſchiefe comes in frantick PHAEDRAS brayne With naked Svvord thus running out amayne.
THE FIFTE ACTF. THESEVS. PHAEDRA. CHORVS. THrough pierſt with pangues of penſtueneſſe what fury prickes thy brayne? What meanes this bloudy blade? what meanes this ſhriking out amayne? And langiſhing vpon the Corps which was thy mallice made? PH. O tamer of the wraſtling waues mee, mee, doe thou inuade. The Monſtrous hags of Marble Seas to rampe on mee ſend out, What euer Thetis low doth keepe with folding armes about, Or what the Ocean Seas alo fe embrace with winding waue: O Theſeus that to thine alies doſt ſtill thy ſelfe behaue So Curriſhly, O thou that for thy louing Friends auayle Doſt neuer yet returne: thy Sonne and Father doe bewayle Thy paſport brought by death, and bloud, thy ſ ooke thou doſt deſtroy, By loue or hatred of thy wife thou workeſt ſtill annoy: O ſweete Hippolytus thus I behold thy battred face, And I it is, I wretch (alas) that brought thee to this caſe. What Scinis forſt thy lims ſo torne his ſnatching boughes to feele? Or what Procruſtes rackt and rent thee ſtreacht on bed of Steele? Or elſe what Minotaur of Crete that grim twiſhaped Bull With horny head (that Dedalls •• ues with lo •• ing ſ •• leth 〈◊〉 Hath thee in fitters torne? (aie me) where is thy beauty fled? Where are our twinckling ſtars thine eyes? alas, and art thou ded? Appeare a while, receiue my words, for ſpeake I ſhall none yll. This hand ſhal ſtrike the ſtroake, wherwith thy bengeance quite I wil. And ſith that I, I Ca ife, I, abridged haue thy life, Lo here I aut content, 〈◊〉 thee mine with bloudy knife. If ghoſt may here be giuen for ghoſt, and breath may ſerue for breath, Hippolytus take thou my ſoule, and come againe from death. Behold my bowels yet are ſafe my lims in luſty plight. Would God that as they ſerue for me, thy body ſerue they might, Mine eies to render kindly light vnto thy Carkaſſe ded, Lo for thy vſe this hand of mine ſhall pluck them from my hed, And ſet them in theſe empty cells and vacant holes of thine. Thy weale of me a wicked Wight to win, do not repine. And if a womans wofull heart in place of thine may reſt, My boſom ſtraight breake vp I ſhall, and teare it from my breſt. But courage ſtout of thine doth loth aint womans heart to haue Thy Noble minde would rather go with manly heart to graue. Alas be not ſo manly now, this manlineſſe forheare, And rather chooſe to liue a man with womans ſprite and feare, Then as no man with manly heart in darckneſſe deepe to ſit: Haue thou thy life, giue me thy death that more deſerueth it. Can not my profer purchaſe place? yet vengeance, ſhal thou haue, Hell ſhall not hold me from thy ſyde nor death of dompiſh graue. Sith fates wil not permit thee life, though I beheſt thee mine, My ſelfe I ſhall in ſpite of fate my fatall twiſt vntwine. This blade ſhall riue my bloudy breaſt, my ſelfe I will diſpoile Of ſoule, and ſinne at once: through floods and Tactor gulphes y boyle, Through S yx and through the burning Lakes I wil come after thee: Thus may we pleaſe the lowring ſhades, receiue thou heere of m e The parings of my Poll, and Locks cut off from forehead torne, Our hearts we could not ioyne in one, yet wretches now farlorne. We ſhal togeather in one day our fatall hower cloſe: If thou be loyall to thy ſpouſe, for him thy life then loſe: But if thou be vnceſtuous, dye for thy louers ſake. Shall I vnto my huſbandes bed agayne my corps betake, Polluted with ſo haynous crime? O death the chiefeſt ioy Of wounding ſhame: Death onely eaſe of ſtinging Loues annoy: We runne to thee: embrace our ſowles within thy gladſome breaſt: Harke Athens, harke vnto my talke, and thou aboue the reſte, Thou Father worſe vnto thy Child than bloudy ſtepdame I. Falſe forged tales I told with ſhame, I fayning that did lye, Which I of ſpite imagined, when raging breaſt did ſwarue. Thou father falſly puniſht haſt him that did not deſerue. The youngman chaſt is caſt away for myne vnceſtuous vice, Both baſhful he and guiltles was, now play thy wonted guyſe. My guilty breaſt with bloudy Launce of Sword deſeru'd is riuen, The Dirge toth dead to purge my ſpouſe ſhal with my bloud be geuen. Thou father of the ſtepdame learne, what things thy Sōne ſhould haue Of life depriued, as to lay his carkaſſe in a graue. Th. O wanny Iawes of blacke Auerne, ake Tartar dungeon grim, O Lethes Lake of woful Soules the ioy that therein ſwimme, And eake ye glummy Gulphes deſtroy, deſtroy me wicked wight And ſtil in pit of pangues let me be plunged day and night. Now, now, come vp ye Gobline grim from water creekes alow, What euer Proteus hugie ſwolue aloofe doth ouerflow, Come dowſe me drownd in ſwallowes depe, that triumphe in my ſinne: And father thou that euermore ful ready preſt hath binne To wreake myne yre, aduentring Ia deede deſeruing death With new found ſlaughter haue bereft myne onely Sonne of breath. His tattred lims I ſcatred haue the bloudy field about, Whyle th'innocent I puniſh doe, by chaunce I haue found out The truth of al this wickednes: heauen, ſtarres, and ſprites of hell I p ſter with my treachery that me doth ouerquell. No miſchiefes hap remayneth more: iii. kingdomes know mee well: We are returned to this World. For this did Hell vnfold His gates that burials twayne I might and double death beholde? Wherby I both a wyueles Wight andeak a Sonles Sire, May with one brand to wyſe and Sonne enflame the funeral fire. O amer of blackefaced light Alcides, now reſtore Thy booty brought from Hel, redeeme to mee, to mee therfore Theſe Ghoſtes that now be gone, ah ſinful wretch to death in vayne I ſue, moſt vndiſcrete by whom theſe wretched Wightes were ſlayne. Imagining deſtruction ſore aboute it wil I goe, Now with thyne owne handes on thy ſelfe due vengeance do beſtow: A Pine tree bough downe ſtraind perforce vnto the ground alow, Let ſlip into the open ayre ſhal cut my corpes in twayne. From top of Scyrons Rockes I wil be tumbled downe amayne. More grieuous vengeance yet I haue in Phlegethon Riuer found, Tormenting guilty Ghoſtes encloſd with fiery Channel round. What pit and pangues ſhal plunge my ſoule already haue I known, That tyring toyle of Siſyphus that retchles rolling ſtone, Let yeeld vnto my guilty Ghoſt, and beyng layed on Theſe ſhoulders, theſe, theſe lifting handes of myne downe let it ſway: And let the fleeting floud aboute my lips deluded play. Yea let the rauening grype come heare and Tytius paunch forſake, Forglutting foode with graſping Cleaze my liuer let him take, Encreaſyng ſtil to feede the Foule, and for my tormentes ſake. And pauſe thou my Pyrothous Syre, and eke the ſnackle Wheele That whirleth ſtil enforce my limmes thy ſwinging ſwift to feele. Gape, gape, thou ground and ſwallow me thou cruell Chaos blynd, This paſſage to thinfernall Sprightes is fit for me to find: My Sonne I wil enſue, thou Prince of gaſtly ghoſtes in hell, Dread not for chaſt wee come to thee: geue thou me leaue to dwell Among thy dreadful dennes for aye, and not to paſſe agayne. Alas, my prayer at the Gods no fauour can obtayne, But if that miſchiefe craue I ſhould how ready would they bee? Ch. O Theſeus to thy plaint eternall tyme is graunted thee: Prouyde thy Sonne his O it rytes, and ſhroude in dompiſh graue His broken lims, which Monſters foule diſperſt and ſcattered haue. Th. The ſhreadings of this deare beloued carkaſse bring to mee, His mangled members hether bring on heapes that tombled be: This is Hyppolytus, I do acknowledge myne offence, For I it is, that haue depriued thee of life and ſenſe. Leaſt that but once, or onely I ſhould be a guilty Wight, I Sire attempting miſchiefe haue beſought my Fathers might. Lo I enioy my fathers gift, O ſolitarineſſe, A grieuous plague when feeble yeares haue brought vs to diſtreſſe, Embrace theſe lims, and that which yet doth of thy ſonne remayne, O woeful wight in baleful breaſt preſerue and entertayne. Theſe ſcattred ſcraps of body torne O Syre in order fet, The ſtraying gobbetts bring agayne, here was his right hand ſet: His left hand here inſtructed will to rule the raynes muſt be. His left ſyde rybbs (ful wel I know to be ewayld of mee With bittter teares) as yet alas are loſt and wanting ſtill, O trembling handes behold this woful buſines to fulfil, And withered Cheekes forbid your ſtreams of flowing tears to runne Whyle that the father do accompt the members of his Sonne. And eke patch vp his body rent, that hath his faſhion loſt, Diſfigured foule with gorye woundes, and all about betoſt: I doubt, if this of thee be peece, and peece it is of thee: Here, lay it here, in th'empty place, here let it layed be, Although perhap it lye not right: (aye me) is this thy face? Whoſe beauty twinckled as a ſtarre, and eake did purchaſe grace, In ſight of F •• procurd to ruth. Is this thy beauty loſt? O cruell will of Gods, O rage in ſinne preuayling moſt. Doth thus the Syre that great good turne perfourme vnto his ſonne? Lo let thy fathers laſt fare wel within thyne eares to runne, Mychild whom oft I bid farewell: the whilſt the fire ſhall burne Theſe bones, ſet ope his buriall bower, and let vs fall to mourne With loude lamenting Mopſus wiſe for both the coarſes ſake: With Princely Pompe his funerall fire ſee that ye ready make. And ſeeke ye vp the broken parts in field diſperſed round, Stop hir vp hurlde into a Pit, let heauy clodds of ground lie hard vpon hir curſed hed. FINIS.
THE FIFTH TRAGEDY OF SENECA, ENGLISHED The yeare of our Lord M. D. LX. BY ALEXANDER NEVYLE.
TO THE RIGHT HONORABLE, MAISTER DOCTOR WOTTON: ONE OF THE Queenes Maieſties priuy Counſayle: Alexander Neuyle wiſheth Helth, vvith encreaſe of Honor.

THis ſixtenth yeare of myne age (righte honorable) reneweth a gratefull memory of your great goodnes towardes mee: (for at Baptiſme your honor vouchſafed to aunſweare for mee): and cauſeth mee thus boldly to preſent theſe greene and vnmelowed fruicts of my firſt truailes vnto you: as ſignes and teſtimonies of a well diſpoſed minde vnto your honor. Albeit when firſt I vndertoke the tranſlation of this preſent Tragoedy, I minded nothing leſſe, than that at any tyme thus rudely transformed it shoulde come into the Printers hands. For I to none other ende remoued him, from his naturall and lofty ſtyle, to our corrupt and baſe, or as ſome men (but vntruly) affyrme it, moſt barbarous Language: but onely to ſatiſfy the inſtant requeſts of a few my familiar frends, who thought to haue put it to the very ſame vſe, that SENECA himſelfe in his Inuention pretended: VVhich was by the tragicall and Pompous ſhowe vpon Stage, to admoniſh all men of their fickle Eſtates, to declare the vnconstant head of wauering Fortune, her ſodayne interchaunged and ſoone altered Face: and lyuely to expreſſe the iust reuenge, and fearefull punishmēts of horrible Crimes, wherewith the wretched worlde in theſe our myſerable dayes pyteouſly ſwarmeth. This cauſed me not to be preciſe in following the Author, word for word: but ſometymes by addition, ſomtimes by ſubtraction, to vſe the apteſt Phraſes in geuing the Sēſe that I could inuent. VVhereat a great numbre (I know) will be more offended than Reaſon or VVyſedome woulde they should bee. Thus as I framed it to one purpoſe: ſo haue my frends (to whom I can not well deny any thyng that Frendshyps ryght may ſeeme iustly to requyre) wreſted it to another effect: and by this meanes blowen it abroade, by ouerrash and vnaduiſed printing. By whych fond deede I know vndoubtedly I shall receyue the poyſoned infamies, of a number of venemous tonges, VVherefore (ryght honorable) as I geue theſe the first Fruicts of my trauayle vnto you: declaring therein the great goodwyll and duety that I owe vnto your Honor, for the noble diſpoſition of your vertuous mynde: ſo am I driuen humbly to require your ſtrong ayde, and aſſured defence agaynſt the ſclaunderous aſſaults of ſuch malicious mouths, which obtayned: I ſhalbe the better encouraged agaynst an other time, to bestow my trauaile in matters of farre greater weighte and importaunce. In the meane ſeaſon (deſiring your Honour to take theſe ſimple Attemptes of myne in good part:) I leaue you to the tuitiō of the right high and mighty God: VVho keepe you long in health, & graunt you many happy yeares: with encreaſe of Honor.

All your Honours to commaund. Alexander Neuile.
❀THE PREFACE TO the Reader.

BEHOLD HERE BEFORE THY Face (good Reader) the moſt lamentable Tragedy of that moſt Infortunate Prince O Edipus, for thy profit rudely tranſlated. Wonder not at the groſeneſſe of the Style: neyther yet accounte the Inuentours Dylygence dyſgraced by the Tranſlators Neglygence: VVho thoughe that he hath ſomtimes boldly preſumed to erre from his Author, rouing at randon vvhere he liſt: adding and ſubtracting at pleaſure: yet let not that engender diſdaynefull ſuſpition vvith in thy learned breaſt. Marke thou rather vvhat is ment by the vvhole courſe of the Hiſtory: and frame thy lyfe free from ſuch miſchiefes, vvherevvith the World at this preſent is vniuerſally ouervvhelmed, The vvrathfull vengeaunce of God prouoked, the Body plagued, the mynde and Conſcience in midſt of deepe deuouring daūgers moſt terribly aſſaulted. In ſuch ſort that I abhorre to write: and euen at the thought thereof I tremble and quake for very inward griefe and feare of minde: aſſuredly perſwading my ſelfe that the right high and immortall God, will neuer leaue ſuch horrible and deteſtable crimes vnpuniſhed. As in this preſent Tragoedy, and ſo forth in the proceſſe of the whole hyſtory, thou maiſt right well perceyue. Wherein thou ſhalt ſee, a very expreſſe and liuely Image of the incōſtant chaunge of fickle Fortune in the perſon of a Prince of paſſing Fame and Renown, midſt whole fluds of earthly bliſſe: by meare miſfortune (nay rather by the deepe hidden ſecret Iudgemēts of God) piteouſly plunged in moſt extreame miſeries. The whole Realme for his ſake in ſtraungeſt guiſe greuouſly plagued: beſides the apparaunt deſtruction of the Nobility: the generall death and ſpoyle of the Cōminalty: the miſerable tranſformed Face of the City, with an infinite number of miſchiefes more, which I paſſe ouer vnreherſed. Onely wiſh I all men by this Tragicall hyſtory (for to that entent was it written) to beware of Synne: the ende whereof is ſhamefull and miſerable. As in the moſt infortunate fall of this vnhappy Prince right playnely appeareth. Who by inward gripe of fearefull cōſuming Cōſcience wretchedly tormented: beholding the lamētable ſtate of his vile infected Realmes, waſted by the burning rage of priuy ſpoyling Peſtilence, finds himſelfe in tract of time, to be th'onely plague & miſery of the almoſt quight deſtroied City. Wherevpon calling together his Prieſts and Prophets, & aſking coū ſaile of the Gods by them, for preſent remedy in thoſe euils, wherewith the Realme was than vniuerſally ouerflowen: aū ſwere was made that the Plague ſhould neuer ceaſſe, till king LAIVS death were throughly reuenged: and the bloudy Murtherer driuen into perpetuall exile. Which aunſwere receiued, OEDIPVS, farre more curious in bowlting out the truth, than carefull of his own Eſtate: ſodainly ſlides into an innumerable company of dredfull miſeries. For as ſoone as he had once the perfect vewe of his own deteſtable deedes, and wicked miſdemeanour caſt before his eyes, together with the vnnaturall killing of his Father LAIVS, the inceſtuous Mariage of his Mother IOCASTA, the prepoſterous order of his ill miſguyded lyfe, vvith a hundred moe like miſchiefes, vvhich chaſte & vndefiled eares abhorre to heare: fretting Fury cōmon enemy & tormētor to corrupted cōſciēces pricking him forvvard, all inflamed vvith Phrenſie and boyling in invvard heate of vile infected minde, hee rooteth out his wretched eyes vnnaturally, bereaueth his Mother her life (though earneſtly requeſted thereto) beaſtly, & in the ende in moſt baſeſt kind of ſlauery, baniſht, dieth miſerably. Leauing behind him vnto all poſterities, a dredfull Example of Gods horrible vengeaunce for ſinne. Such like terrors as theſe requireth this our preſent Age, wherein Vice hath chiefeſt place, & Vertue put to flight, lies as an abiect, languiſhing in great extremity. For the vvhich cauſe, ſo much the rather haue I ſuffred this my baſe trāſlated Tragoedy to be publiſhed: frō his Author in word & verſe ſomewhat trāſformed, though in Senſe litle altered: and yet oftentimes rudely encreaſed vvith mine owne ſimple inuention: more raſhly (I cōfeſſe) than wiſely, vviſhing to pleaſe all: to offend none. But vvhereas no man liues ſo vprightly, vvhom ſlaundring tonges leaue vndiffamed, I referre my ſelfe to the Iudgement of the vviſeſt, litle eſteeming the preiudiciall mouthes of ſuch carping Marchaūts, vvhych ſuffer no mens doings almoſt to ſcape vndefiled. In fine, I beſeech all to gether (if ſo it might be) to beare vvith my rudenes, & conſider the groſenes of our owne Countrey language, which cā by no meanes aſpire to the high lofty Latiniſts ſtile. Myne onely entent vvas to exhorte men to embrace Vertue and ſhun Vyce, according to that of the right famous & excellent Poet Virgil

Diſcite inſticiam moniti, & non temnere diuos.

This obtayned: I hold my ſelfe throughly cōtented: In the meane ſeaſon I ende: wiſhing all men to ſhun Sin, the plaine (but moſt perilous) pathway to perfect infelicity.

The Speakers names. OEdipus. Choru . Tireſias. Sanex. Iocaſta. Creon. Manto. Phorbas. [Nuntius]
THE FIRST ACTE. OEDIPVS the King. IOCASTA the Queene. THe Night is gon: and dredfull day begins at length t'appeere: And Phoebus all bedim' e with Clowdes, himſelfe aloft doth reere. And glyding forth with deadly hue, a dolefull blaſe in Skies Doth beare: Great terror & diſmay to the beholders Eyes. Now ſhall the houſes voyde bee ſeene, with Plague deuoured quight? And ſlaughter that the night hath made, ſhall day bring forth to light. Doth any man in Princely throne reioyce? O brittle Ioy, How many ills? how fayre a Face? and yet how much annoy In thee doth lurke, and hidden lies? what heapes of endles ſtrife? They iudge amiſſe, that deeme the Prince to haue the happy life. For as the Mountaynes huge and bie, the bluſtring wiudes withſtand. And craggy Rocks, the belching fluds do daſh, and driue fro land: Though that the Seas in quiet are, and calme on euery ſide: So kingdoms great all Windes and Waues of Fortune muſt abide. How well ſhund I my Father deare Polybius Scepters late? Exil'de, bereft of carefull feare, in Pilgrims happy ſtate: I call the Gods to witnes this, and Stars that glyde in Skyes. A Kingdome is befauln to mee. I frare leaſt thereof ryſe A miſchiefe, (mighty Ioue,) to great I feare, alas I feare Leaſt theſe my handes haue re t the life, or thee my Father deare. Apollo byds mee this beware, and yet a miſchiefe more Foretels. IOC. Can any greater bee than that you tolde before? Of Father ſlayne by ſonnes own hand? OE. (O thrice vnhappy ſtate.) With horror all diſmaide I ſtand in dred of threatned fate. I am aſhamed my deſtinies fowle (O Queene) to thunder out, And openly to blaſe my feare my trembling minde doth dout: Yet out it goes. Phoebus me bids my Mothers Bed to fly. As though that I her Sonne, with her inceſtuouſly ſhould ly. This feare, and onely this me cauſde my fathers kingdome great For to forſake. I fled not thence when feare the minde doth beat. The reſtleſſe thought ſtill dreds the thing, it knows can neuer chaunce. Such fanſies now torment my heart, my ſafety to aduaunce, And eke thyne euer ſacred lawes (O Nature) for to keepe A ſtately Scepter I forſooke, yet ſecret feare doth creepe Within my breaſt: and frets it ſtill with doubt and diſcontent, And inward pangues which ſecretly my thoughts a ſunder rent. So though no cauſe of dred I ſee, yet feare and dred I all, And ſcant in credit with my ſelfe, my thoughts my minde appall That I cannot perſwaded be though reaſon tell mee no, But that the Web is weauing ſtill of my decreed wo. For what ſhould I ſuppoſe the cauſe? a Plague that is ſo generall, And Cadmus country wholy ſpoyles, and ſpreds it ſelfe through all? Should mee, amongeſt ſo huge a heape of plagued Bodies ſpare? And we alone amongſt the reſt reſerude to miſchiefes are? O heauy hap. And bide I ſtil alone the ſpoyle to ſee? Of Cities great, of men, of beaſts, by plague that waſted bee? And thou amongſt ſo many ils, a happy lyfe to lead, Couldſt once perſwade thy ſelfe (O wretch) without all feare or dread. Of Phoebus ſecret Iudgements to, and that in Kinges eſtate? Thou, thou, infected haſt the ayre, in ſuch a filthy rate. Thou art the onely cauſe of woe: by thee theſe euils riſe, By thee to graue on ſuch a ſorte, this wretched people plies. The firy flaming frying heate, afflicted hearts that waſts, Is not relieude as wont it was by cold and pleaſaunt blaſts. The gentle weſtern windes haue left with healthfull puffes to blow, And now the fiery Dog with blaſe of boyling heate doth glow. The Sunne in Leo burns ſo hoate, and ſo the earth doth broyle, That fluds and hearbes are dryed vp, and nought remaynes but ſoyle, So throughly ſchorcht and ſtued with heate, that moiſture all is gone, And now amongſt ſo many fluds, remaynes alas not one. The places dry are onely ſeene the ſtreames are drunken vp. And water that doth yet remayne: the ſoaking Earth doth ſup. The Moone with clowds quight over caſt, all ſadly 〈◊〉 ſhe glides, And dolefull darkſom ſhades of night the who worlde ouer hides. No Star on high at all doth ſhine, but black and 〈◊〉 hue Hath ouerſhaded all the Skyes, whence deadly miſts enſue. The corne that wonted was to growe and fruitfully to ſpring, Now to the voyded Barnes nought els, but empty ſtalkes doth bring. No part of all our kingdome is free from deſtruction: But all together run and ruſh, to vtter confuſion. The old men with the yong (alas:) the 〈◊〉 with the chylde The plague conſumes. Both man & wife, all beaſts both tame & wylde Are ſpoyled by the Peſtilence. No pompe at all remaynes, That wonted was in Funeralles, to eaſe the mourners paynes. Alas this ſpoile of people made, by plague hath dryde myne eyes: And ſecretly within my breaſt, the griefe it boyling fryes. And that, that wonted is to hap, in moſt extremeſt ills: My tearees are dry and glutting griefe my wretched breaſt it fills. The craſed father beares the ſon, vnto theyr dampiſh graues: And after him with burden like, the Mother comes and raues: And euen lamenting as they ſtand, 〈…〉 both they fall, And mourners new in like eſtate, for them 〈…〉 they call. Who likewiſe in the midſt of all their oyle and paynfull payne Do drop into the graue they digd, and ſo the place doe gayne That was prepar' de for others erſt. A hell it were to heere The horror, and the miſeries that euery where appe re. A Tombe is made for noble men, faſt on the people die, And in, their burdens fling. Great Pieres all vnregarded lye. For lack of Graues, to Aſhes cleane their bodyes ſome doe waſt And ſome halfe burnt doe leaue them there, and home away for haſt They run, & more they fetch, and then wood, fier, graue, and all Doth want. And downe for very griefe the wretched myſers fall. No prayers auaile. No Arte can help this raging Plague t'appeaſe: For none almoſt is left aliue each others woe to eaſe. Before thine aulters heere O God my feeble hands I hold, Requiring all my deſtinies, at once with courage bold. And that by death I may preuent, my Countrey preſt to fall. For this, and only this (O God) vpon thy name I call. Let mee not be the laſt that dies: The laſt that goes to Graue. Graunt this, and then (O mighty Ioue) my full requeſt I haue. O cruell Gods vnkinde: O more than thriſe vnhappy Fates: That onely mee denied is, that lyghtes on all Eſtates. I meane a ſpeedy death (alas) theſe euils to preuent And deadly woe 〈…〉 rage itorment. Leaue of thy blubb ring 〈…〉 kingdomes foylde With rotten plagues & 〈◊〉 bile, and graves ech where diſpoylde. All which diſeaſes thou vnhappy gueſt didſt bring with thee Diſpatch. Away. Gpe hence. At leaſt, vnto thy parents flee. IO. What bootes it 〈…〉 , great wt piteous plaints to aggre ate. Stoutly to beare aduerſ •• , 〈…〉 eſtate. When dred and daunger moſt aſſay when cruell Cares doe cruſh Thy princely breaſt, spant thou moſt to beare and bide the puſh. It is no poin •• of courage ſlout to yeelde to fortunes frown. OED. Nay, Fear •• could n u cauſe mee ſloupe nor Fortune caſt mee down. My manly winds was neuer thraule to vaine and peau •• h feares, But euermore in each 〈…〉 courage beares. No not a thouſand gliſter •• g ſwords, nor Mars himſelfe in fielde. Can once diſmay my Countenuance, or cauſe my heart to yeelde. The very Giaunts fierce and huge in fight withſtand I dare. That Monſter Sohinx whoſe riddels through the world renowmed are Could not diſmay my deedles heart, nor cauſe my courage ſlide For all the terrors I behold. I did that Fury byde. I ſaw him belching G bs of bloud, I v •• wde full well the fielde That all to 〈◊〉 lay with bloud, and bones quight ouerheelde. And when y he on Mountaynes top with mouth full huge to ſee. Stoode gaping all with greedy Iawes to feede and pray on mee, Oft fluttering with his fearefull wynges and ſhaking oft his rayſe, Began full like a Lyon 〈◊〉 with threates mee to aſſayle. Of whom ſtraight way the Riddell I, it ruſh into myne ares With roring ſound His winges he claps, the Rock for haſt hee teares. Deſtring with my Bowels ſtill his greedy Iawes to glu : But I full ſoone aſſoyled had the queſtion that he put. And all the ſubtile poincts ther of, and twiſted kno s vntwinde. IO. What makes you wiſh for death to late, and waue your wordes in wind. You might haue died than (you know) for Sphinx ſo nobly ſlain. This kingdom vnto you, and yours for euer ſhall remain. OED. The aſhes of that Monſter vile, agaynſt vs doth rebell. That vile miſhapen lothſome Beaſt, that raging Feend of Hell. Is cauſe of all the plague that doth this mournfull City ſmight. Now only this remaynes alone, if Phoebus heauenly might, Can any meanes inuent for vs, or way of mercy make: Whereby theſe burning Plagues at length may haply chaſice to ſlake. Chorus. O More then thriſe renow ied Stock of auncient Cadmus Race. O mighty Thebes City grear, O heauy ruthfull Caſe. Loe now you lye all deſolate, with Plague deuoured quight. Both you and all your Huſbandmen. (Oh miſerable ſight.) O fowle and feareful Fate (alas) what cauſeth all this aid? O God whence ſprings this Peſtylence that vs 〈◊〉 ſo? No age, no ſhape, no forme is ſparde, but all confounded lye. Thus happieſt now y man I count, whoſe chaunce was firſt to dye. For hee hath ſhund a thouſand ils, which wretched Eyes haue ſeene: And miſchiefes great that vs doe pr ſſe from him are taken cleane. O God withhold thy fury great, thy Plagues from vs re du . Ceaſſe of afflicted Soules to ſcourge, who thee, 〈◊〉 nd oue. Powre downe on them diſeaſes fowle, that them deſerued haue. A Guerdon iuſt for ſinne (Oh God) this this of thee wee •• aue, And onely this. We aſke no more, the cauſe and all is thyne, A thing not vſde of Gods it is, from pity to declyne. My heart doth vant, and trembling cold through all my lims doth run, As oft as I remembring, count the noble Stockes v •• un, By death and dolfull deſtenies that ouerwhelmed lye, And yet alas the people ſtil to Graue doe faſter hye. In long Aray all in a rancke by thouſandes on a o , On euery ſide, in euery ſtreate to buriall faſt, they goe. The ſeuen broade wyde open Gates, are not 〈◊〉 forway, But throngd the people peſtred ſtand ſtill in a fearefull ſtay, And in the mydſt of all theyr toyle with corſes on their backes, The number that before doth poaſt the hinder number ſlackes The corſes in the ſtreates doe lye and Graue on Graue is made. But all in vayne. For nought it boots the plague 〈◊〉 beſtayde. The ſacrifices don to Gods ha e to to ill ſucceſſe. And ſuch ſtraunge ſights & ſignes doe riſe that nought els I can geſſe, But that at hand with gaſtly pawes, is vtter deſtruction, With thouſand ills accompayned and extreme confuſion. The ſheepe of rot by heapes as thick, as dogges doe fall and d e And belching out their waſted lunges, on grounde doe ſprawling lye. And I my ſelfe of late did ſee: (a ſight vnſeene before,) As our high prieſt ſtoode ſacrifiſing at the Temple dore, And ſtrake with grieuous bloudy wound the golden horned Bull When downe with liueles lump he drop and members made full dull. And all the woude wide bleeding gapes & black goars bloud out ſpues. And yet the blade vnſprinckled was. The bloud it buying 〈◊〉 And bubbles on the ground. Alas what do theſe things por end? Oh mighty Ioue at length vouchſafe ſome good and ha •• y end. At length withhold thy h •• d (O God) and health vnto vs ſend. Nothing (alas) remaynes at all, in wo •• ed old eſtate, But all are tu ed to p •• t downe, quight voyd and deſolate The famting horſe for 〈…〉 banck his burden tats. Aud after on 〈…〉 : Who cries for help 〈…〉 that bide Unkept: vnknowen wayes and pathe do raunge and ouerſtride. The Bull 〈…〉 and me a e in field all faintyng lyes. And, all his flocke 〈…〉 , fely Shephard dyes. The 〈…〉 his zatal breath expiers And to the 〈…〉 hisfaſt eſters. The 〈…〉 do lyue in aretched peace. The rage, and wrathful 〈◊〉 founds of ramping Lions ceaſe. The vengeaunce 〈…〉 Beares are now as ame as ſheepe The vgly Serpent that was wont the Rocky Den es to keepe. Oft quaffing poiſoned 〈…〉 in inward hea . ſhee boyles, 〈…〉 for lenger ly e ſhe toyles. The woods are 〈…〉 withfreſh and lyuely hue The wonted ſhades are gon. All things are quight out of their Que: No greeniſh graſſe on ground doth grow, the earth no moiſture ſoupes. The Vine withoute 〈◊〉 ap, his drowſy head down drowpes. What ſhal I ſay? all 〈…〉 but of courſe, And as they 〈…〉 worſ and worſe. O mighty 〈…〉 yls? When ceaſe 〈…〉 loud thus fierce and raging ſpils? I thinck but we almoſt alyue, there do no men remayne: Whom 〈◊〉 Darrs 〈…〉 on earth haue left vnſlayne. I thinke 〈…〉 ſhades of hell where filthy fluds do flow, Where plages and vile diſeaſes too, where dredfull horrors grow, And 〈…〉 miſchiefes on vs throw, With Botch & bla e of ſundry kindes which ſother blaſts do blow, And wrekful vexed hagges of hell do dreath and on vs bringe: The angry feddes of hell I thinke their vengea •• ce, on vs flinge And out their mortall poyſon ſpue which they agaynſt vs beare. Lo ſee how greedy death on vs with ſcowling eyes doth leare. See, ſee. Oh Ioue how faſt hee throwes his Dartes. Not one he ſpares But all confounds. His thretning force, withſtand no Creature dares. No doubt the lothſom Feryman the ſinfull ſoules that traynes Through ſtincking fluds, his labour loths that he for vs ſuſtaynes. Such preſſe by plūps to him is made which ſtill renews his paynes. But harke yet mōſters more thē theſe, the Fame abroade doth fly That helliſhe Dogges wt bawling ſound were heard to howle and cry, And y the ground with trembling ſhooke, and vnder feele did moue. And dreadfull blaſing Comets bright were ſeene in Skies aboue. And gaſtly ſhapes of men beſides, to wander on the ground. And wood, and trees on euery ſyde, did fearefully reſound. Beſides all this ſtraūg Ghoſts were ſeene in places where they ſtoode. And Ryuers more then one or two, that ran all blacke goorb bloode. O cruell plague, O vile diſcaſe, farre worſe then ſpeedy death. O wee vnhappy thriſe and more, who doe prolonge our breath. In theſe accurſed dayes and tymes. But harke to mee a while. When firſt this Iothſome plague begins theſe Myſers to defile, It takes them thus. A feareful Cold through al their bones doth r n,] And Cold and Heate togeather mixt, their ſe es all benome. Than litle lothſome markes appeare, and all their bodies ſpot. And all their members ſlaming glow, and burning faſt doe rot. The Lights, the Lungs, the heart, the Guts, and all that inwarde lies. And all the ſecret partes iſcorcht, with deadly, I fier fries. The bloud all clotterd in their Cheekes, in cluſter lies by lumps. And it and heate together makes, great, ſtraung, and ruddy bumps. And bloud and fleſh congeled ſtands, in Face as ſtiffe as ſtake. And Eyes in head faſt fixed ſet, and often trickling make. And downe apace whole fluds they ſteame, and clots & drops doe trill, And all the ſkin from of their Face, by flakes and ſcales doth pill. A thouſand fearefull ſounds at once, into their eares doe ruſh. And lothſome bloud out of their Noſe, by ſtilling ſtreames doth guſh. The very anguiſh of their heart doth cauſe them for to ſhake. And what with payne & heale, and feare, their weried lims doe quake. Then ſome the rūning Ryuers haunt, and ſome on gro nd ce 〈◊〉 . And ſome agayne their thirſt to ſlake, cold water gulping 〈◊〉 . Thus all our country oſt with plague in Griefy it waltering 〈◊〉 . And ſtill deſiring for to dye, a thouſand deathes it dyes. But God to heare them then is preſt: and death to none 〈◊〉 . Beſydes al this, the church ſome do frequent: but not to pray, But onely for to glut the Gods, with that that they do ſay. But who is this that comes to Court in haſt with poaſting pace? What? iſt Creon that noble Prince (for deedes and ſtately race?) Or doth my mynd oppreſt with care thinges falſe for true contriue? Creon it is long looked for, his ſight doth me reuyue.
THE SECONDE ACTE.
The firſt Scene. OEDIPVS. CREON. FOr feare my body chilles, alas, and trembling all I ſtand In quakinge dread. I ſeke and toyle, theſe miſchiefes to withſtand. But al in vayne I ſpend my thoughtes it wil not be, I ſee, As long as all my ſences thus by cares diſtracted bee. My mynd deſyrous ſtil (Oh God,) the truth for to vnfold, With doubtful Dread is daunted ſo, that it can ſcant vpholde It ſelfe. O Brother beare, if way or meane of health thou know, Declare it out and ſticke not all the truth to me to ſhow. Cre. The Oracle (moſt noble king) ys darke, and hidden lies. Oed. Who doubtful health to ſicke men brings, all health to thē denies. Cre. Apolloes vſe yt is the troth in darkeſome dens to hold. Oed. And Oedipus of Gods it hath thinges hidden to vnfold: Speake out, tell all, and ſpare not man: all doubtes I can diſcus. Cre. Apollo then (moſt noble King) himſelfe commaundeth thus. By exile purge the Princes ſeat, and plague vvith vengeance due That haples vvretch, vvhoſe bloudy handes of late King Laius ſlue: Before that this perfourmed bee, no hope of milder ayer: Wherfore do this (O King) or elſe All hope of helpe diſpayre. Oe, Durſt any man on earth attem pte, that noble Prince to ſlay? Shew me the man that I may him diſpatch out of the way. Cre. God graunt I may it ſafely tel: the hearyng was to terrible, My ſenſes all amaſed are: it is a thing ſo horrible, That I abhorre to vtter it (oh God) for feare I quake And euen at the very thought my lims beginne to ſhake. Aſſoone as I Appollos Church, had entred in affrayd, Vppon my face flat downe I fell, and thus to him I prayd. Oh God if euer thou didſt rue, on wretched misers ſtate, If euer men oppreſt thou eaſd, or didſt their cares abate, If euer thou in preſent neede didſt preſent helpe declare, If euer thou afflicted Hartes with cares conſumd didſt ſpare: Shew now thy wonted elemency and pitty knowne of yore. Scant had I ſayd: Refounding all the mountaynes thondring rore: And filthy feendes ſpout out their flames out of their darkſome caues. And woods do quake, and hilles do moue, and vp the ſurging waues Do mount vnto the ſkies aloft, and I amaſed ſtand. Still looking for an aunſweare at Apollos ſacred hand. When out with ruffled hayre diſguiſd th: Prophet comes at laſt: And when that ſhee had felt the heate of mighty Phoebus blaſt. All puffyng out ſhe ſwelles in rage, and pattring ſtill ſhe raues, And ſcant ſhe entred had into Apollos ſhyning caues, When out a thundring voyce doth bruſt that's farre aboue mans reach. So dreadful ſeemed then to me the mighty Phoebus ſpeach. Than thus he ſpake aud thus at length into myne cares he ruſht Whyle ſprawling ſtil the Prophet lay before the doores in duſt. The Thebane City neuer ſhal be free frō plagues (quoth he,) Except from thenſe the Kingkiller forthwith expulſed bee: Vnto Apollo knowen he was, or euer he was borne. Do this: or elſe no hope of health, to this, the gods haue ſworn. And as for thee, thou ſhalt not long in quiet ſtate indure, But with thy ſelf wage war thou ſhalt & war thou ſhalt procure Vnto thy children deare: & crepe agayn thou ſhalt into thy mothers wombe. Oed. Loke what the Gods commaunded haue accompliſhed ſhalbe. Nor neuer ſhal theſe eyes of myne abyde the day to ſee, A King of kingdome ſpoyld by force, by guyle or craſt ſuppreſt. A kinge to kinges the prop ought be, and chiefeſt cauſe of reſt: No man regardes his death at all whom liuing he doth feare, Cr. Great cauſe makes mee my Princes death conceale and cloſiy beare Oed. Ought any cauſe of feare or griefe, the duty for to let? Cre. The threatning of the propheſyes, do ſtil my breaſt beſet. Oe. Let vs (ſith God cōmaunds) forthwith ſome good attonement make If any way, or meanes there be their wrathful rage to ſlake. Thou God that ſits on ſeate on high, and al the world doſt guide, And thou by whoſe commaundement the Starres in Skies do glide: Thou, thou that onely ruler art of Seas, of Floods, and all. On thee and on thy Godhead great, for theſe requeſtes I call. Who ſo hath ſlayne king Laius, oh Ioue I do thee pray. Let thouſand ils vpon him fall, before his dying day. Let him no health ne comfort haue, but al to cruſht with cares, Conſume his wretched yeares in griefe, & though that death him ſpares Awhyle. Yet miſchiefes all, at length vppon him light. With all the euils vnder Sun, that vgly monſter ſmight. In exile let him liue a Slaue, the rated courſe of life. In ſhame, in care, in peuury in daunger and in ſtrife. Let no man on him pity take, let all men him reuyle. Let him his Mothers ſacred Bed inceſtuouſly defyle. Lim him his father kill. And yet let him do miſchiefes more. What thing more haynous can I wiſh then that I wiſht before? Let him do all thoſe illes I ſay, that I haue ſhund and paſt. All thoſe and more (if more may be) oh God vpon him caſt. Let him no hope of pardon haue: but ſue and all in vayne. All helliſh Furies on him light, for to encreaſe his payne. O Ioue powre downe thy fury greate, thy thūdring thumpes out throw Let Boreas boyſterous blaſtes and ſtormy plagues vpon him blow Conſume him quight. Fre out his guttes wt pockes and botches vile Let all diſeaſes on him light that wretched bodyes fyle. Let theſe and more (if more may be) vppon that Monſter fall. Let Harpies pawes and greedy paunche deu ure his members all. Let no man him regard: or ſeeke his limmes in grade to lay: But let him dye ten thouſand deathes before his dying day. By this my Kingdome I do ſweare, and Kingdome that I left By al my Countrey Gods that bene in Temples cloſely kept, I ſweare, I vow, I do proteſt, and thereto witnes take: The Starres, the Seas, the Earth and all that ere thy hand did make. Except that I my ſelfe forthwith this bloudy monſter find, To wreake the wrath of God ſome way with ſolemyne oth I bynde. And ſo my father, Polybius his happy dayes out lyue. And ſo my mother Merope, no mariage new contriue: As he ſhall dye that did this deede, and none ſhal him excuſe. Whoſo he be here I proteſt for that he ſhortly rues: But where this wicked deede was don Creon now tell me playne: Both by what meanes? & where: and how Ring Laius was ſlayne. Creon. Paſſing through Caſtalia woods & mountayns heapt with ſuoe Where groues and ſcrubs, and buſhes thicke & brambles ſharp do groe. A threepathd crooked way there is that diuerſly doth goe. One vnto Bacchus citty bends that Phoce doth hight, The other to Olenius, forth ſtretcheth out aright: The third that reacheth through the vales and by the riuers lyes Tends downe vnto the Bancks wherby Ele a, water plyes There vnawares (O piteous chaunce) a troup of theues entraps The noble prince, and murders him hence ſpring theſe great miſhaps which heape you realms with hideous woes and plagues on euery ſide, By iuſt decree of heauenly powers which can no murder bide. But ſee Tireſias where he coms with old and trembling pace. I thincke Apolloes heauenly might haue brought him to this place. See where he comes and Manto too, his ſteps directing ſtayes Tis he who for your grace (O king) and for your countrie prayes
THE SECOND ACTE. THE SECOND SCENE. OEDIPVS. TYRESIAS. MANTO. COme holy prieſt (to Phoebus next) theſe doubtfull aunſwers Ioſe: And whom that deſtnies will to dye, Straightwayes to me diſcloſe. TY. Renowmed Prince, though ſtill I ſtand in ſilence dūme diſmayde: And though by inwarde feare of mynde my lingring tonge is ſtayde: Yet pardon me (O noble Prince,) and geue me leaue a while. From lack of ſight ſprings Ignoraunce which powre hath to exile Vnſpotted Truth frō doubtfull breaſts. This thing ful well you knoes, But whither God and Countrey calles, with willing minde I goe. Let deadly fatall deſtentes, be boulted out at length. O King if I of greener yeares had now my wonted ſtrength: This matter ſoone diſcuſt ſhould be, and I would take in hande, My ſelfe in preſence of the Gods, in temple for to ſtande. A mighty Oxe all coulourd white, vp on the Aulters reare, Which neuer yet on weried necke, the croked yoake did beare. And Manto thou, O daughter mine, mine onely prop and ſtay: The ſecret hidden miſteries, and ſacred ſignes out ſay. M A. The beaſt before the Aulter ſtands. T Y. To Gods a prayer make, And on the holy Aulters cke, ſome pleaſaunt odors ſhake. M A. Tis done. And all the fiers fieice, with incence bright doe flame. T Y. O Manto now what ſignes ſeeſt thou? how doe thy matters frame? What? doth the fire, the Sacrifice encompas rounde about? MA. Not ſo. But firſt it mounts aloſt, and ſtreight it flaſheth out. TY. Well Yet, how doth the ſacred flame all ſhining bright and cleare It ſelfe on high vnto the Sktes, with ſparkelting flakes v reare? Or doeh it oft rebounding backe, it ſelfe, from Skyes vnfould? Or all with rumbling roring noyſe, about the place iſt rould? Or dim'd with ſmoke, iſt toſt from place, to place, now heere, now theare? MA. Not one. But diuerſe, colours mixt the flame doth with it beare. Much like vnto the Rainbow, which with ſundry paynted hues Foreſhewes vnto the huſbandmen the weather that enſues. What colour it wants, or what it hath, to me is like vncertayne. Now is it black, now blue, now red, and euen now agayne Quight out it is. Yet once agayn, all fierce it flaſhing flames: But lo, yet miſchiefs more then this, vnluckely it frames. The fier quight a ſunder parts, and flame with flame doth fight. O father I abhorre to ſee, this vgly lothſome ſight. The Wyne to blud is turned quight, and all the Prynces hed, With thicke black clouds encōpaſt is, with ſmoke all ouerſpred. O father tell what this portends? TY. What ſhould I tell alas? My mynde for feare aſtonied ſtands, and trembling cold doth pas Through all my lims. What ſhall I ſay? or where ſhall I begin? O cruell Plagues, O wrekfull Gods, O vengeaūce due for ſin. Some dyre and blouddy deed (Alas) theſe hydeous ſignes declare. Whats that the Gods would haue reuealde, and yet doe bid beware To vtter it? By certaine ſignes their wrath is oft deſcride: Such ſignes appeere, and yet they ſeeme their fury great to hide. They are aſhamde: I wot nere what. Come hither, quickly bring Some ſalt with thee, and it vpon the ſacrifice goe fling. What? are their lookes pleaſant and milde, and doe they gently bide The touching of thy ſacred hands? MA. What may this thing betide? The Bull (a wonder great to ſee) his head on hie he lifts And turned ſtill vnto the Eaſt, from thence it alway ſhifts, Still lothing as hee ſeemes to me, of heauen to ſee the light, Oft ſcouling with his blearing eyes with gaſtely ruthfull ſight. TY. But doth one blow thē driue to groūd, or more the one they haue? MA. The Heifer as it ſeemde, enflamd with courage ſtoute and braue Vpon the mortall Blade did ruſh, and there hirſelfe deſtries: When out the bloud it foming ſpoutes, and mounts vnto the Skies. The brawny Bull twiſe ſtroke or thriſe, with groueling groning tyres, And toyling vp and down he moyles. And ſtill to liue deſires. And yet at length with much ado, his brutiſh breath expiers. TY. What? doth the wounde wide open gape, or is it cloſed vp? Or doth the deepnes of the hole, the bloud in ſoking ſup? MA. Out of the wounded Heifers breaſt Black bluiſh waters ruſh. As for the Bull, but little bloud, out of his wounds doth guſh. t back rebounds, and from his Mouth & Eyes by ſtreames oth flow. But what theſe dreadfull ſignes portend the Gods aloane doc know. TY. By this vnhappy Sacrifice, great feares within mee riſe. But tell mee now: In the inner parts, what ſecret hidden lies? MA. O Father what meanes this (alas) that more then wonted guiſe The Inwards ſtir? and ſhake my hands, and heauing oft ariſe, The bloud by ſtreames out of the vaynes, full ſtraungly ſkips aloft. The heart all ſchorcht and hidden lies, and ſtrykes are ſeene full oft, Of Colour very wan and pale: The chiefeſt parts doe want. The Lyuer bla kiſh gall out ſpurts, and ſomwhat ryſing pants. And that, that myſchiefes great, to kingdoms doth foreſhow: Tw heads are ſeene, and yet both heads one ſkin doth ouerg ow And ouerheales them quight, But yet the ſkin, it is ſo thin That eaſely one may diſcerne what lieth hid therein. And that which horror doth encreaſe, a man may plainly ſee How both the heart, the Lights, and Lungs, and all diſturbed bee. The fearefull noyſe and ſound you heere is not of beaſts, but fier That roaring on the Alters makes, preſaging wrekefull yre Of angry Gods who doe foretell ſome purpoſe that they haue, For to reuenge ſome foule miſdeede that vengeance iuſt doth craue. No part his proper place obſerues, nor keepes his order due: But altogether quight diſguiſde, with an vnwonted hue. Miſhapen, out of frame, tranſformde, diſplaced quight (alas) What thing is that the Gods entend ere long to br ng to pas? OEd. Why than declare from whēce, and why theſe deadly ſignes ariſe, With courage ſtout I will it heare, it ſhall not once aggriſe By valiaunt mynd. Extremeſt ils haue power to baniſh feare. TY. You will wiſhe that vnhard which you ſo much deſyre to heare. OEd. Yet ſence the Gods wil haue him known tell me (I ſay) his name That ſiue your King. TY. Nor wing, nor womb of Bird or beaſt ye ſame Can tell (O king) new ſacrifice, new meanes we muſt inuent. From dredfull darke infernall damps ſome Fury muſt be ſent Theſe miſchifes great for to vnfolde. Or els King Ditis hee, That Empyre keepes on gri ſly Ghoſts, entreated needes muſt bee Theſe things forthwith for to diſcloſe. Tell who ſhall haue the charge, A King thou art, than maiſt not thou go through thoſe kingdoms large. OEd. Than noble Creon thou ſhalt goe, this payne is firſt for thee: Who muſt this crown and kingdome great enioy after mee.
THE THIRDE ACTE.
THE FIRST SCENE. Oedipus. Creon. THough that thy Face where ſadnes ſits in heauy mourning guiſe, Nought els portend, but dedly griefes, and miſchiefes ſtil to ryſe: Yet tel ſome meanes wherby at length the Gods we may appeaſe, And purchaſē to our Kingdomes waſt, ſome hope of health and eaſe. Cre. Alas you byd me that diſcloſe which feare doth byd me hyde. Oed. It that the Thebane Citties great, by doleful plagues deſtryde. Perce not thy hart a: et oughteſt thou theſe Kingdomes for to rue, Which were vnto thy brothers houſe, of auncient title due. Cre. You wiſh y thing to know, which you wil wiſh vnknown at length. Oed. Why ſo? a ſimple remedy of litle force and ſtrength Is ignoraunce of our eſtate when daungers vs betyde. But what? wi t thou ſo great a good for common ſafety hide? Cre. Irkeſome Medcines and perilous in ſ cknes I abhorre Oed. And I likewyſe at Subiects hands diſdayne to take a dorre, Speake out with ſpeed, or elſe by proofe of torment thou ſhalt find How daungerous a caſe it is to gawle a Princes mynd. Cre. Kinges often vſe to wiſh vntolde, which they bad tel before. Oed. Go to, diſpatch and ceaſe in time to vexe me any more. Except that thou forthwith to me this einous deede iſcloſe: The gods I do proteſt, to death for al thou onely goes. Cre. O pardon me moſt noble king. O let me hold my pes, Of al the gracis Princes graunt, what fauour may be leſſe? Oed As though y ſilence hurts not more both king and countries weale: Then ſpech oft tymes: which ſubiects thoughts to Prices both reueale? Diſpatch at once, ſtir me no more thou knowſt my guiſe of olde. CRE. Silence denied, what priuileage may ſ lly Subiect holde? OED. A iraytor he is, who ſtlēce keepes, whē king cōmaunds to ſpeake. CRE. Then pardon my conſtrayned ſpeach, ſlth ſilence for to breake You me compell. A dolefull tale (O king) my tongue muſt tell, And which I feare your maieſty will not interpret well. OED. Was euer man rebukt for that, that he was bid to ſay? CRE. Well than ſince needes I muſt: I am contented to obay. A wood there is from City farre, enhaunſt with ſtately trees: Where many a plant, and her be doth grow, which Phoebus neuer ſees: With euer during buſhes greene, the Typreſſe there doth ryſe, And puts his alde aud leffty had withing the cloude Skyes. The auncient Time eaten Oke with crooked be ded lims. The Te l tree flue: The Alder which in Neptunes kingdoms ſwims, The Bayes with bitter beries eke the Elmes deere f iends to Vyn •• And many a noble tree beſides, as M rtels, 〈…〉 Amidſt them all, one tree there is with large out 〈…〉 Whoſe roring ſound, & craking noyſe the leſſer woods 〈…〉 And ouerſhades them all: a Tree of monſtrous huge 〈◊〉 , Beſet with fearefull woods: there is that dyre, and dreadfull gate, That leades to lothſome Lymbo Lake, and pyts that euer flowe. Where choked miry mud doth ſtreame with ſlimy courſe full flowe. Here when the prieſt was entred in with comely 〈◊〉 pace, He ſtayed not: No neede there was, for night was ſtill in place. Than all the ground wyde open gapes, & ſmouthe ring apours ryſe, And fyre and ſmoke, & ſtyfling ſtink, mounts vp vnto the Shyes. The Prieſt with wayling werde clad, his fatall red out ooke: And entring in, in blacke Aray, full often times it ſhooke. With heauy cheere and dolful pace: his hoary ha re was twynde With bowes of mortall Ewe. A tree wherewith the mourners winde, Theyr mourning heads, & Garlands make. In this guiſe all arayde, The ſacred Prieſt doth enter in, with trembling lims diſmayde: Than in the Sheepe and Oxen blacke, by backwarde courſe are drawn And odoures ſweete, & Frankencence, on flaming fyres are thrown. The beaſts on burning, Altars caſt, do quake with ſchorched lims: And bloudy ſtreames with fyre mixt, about the Aultars 〈◊〉 . Than on the darke internall Gods, and him that rules them all: With deadly ſhriking voyce aloude, the Prophet gins to call. And rouls the Magick verſe in mouth, and hidden Artes doth proue: Which eyther power haue to appeaſe or els the Gods to moue, Thair bloudy ſtreaming Lycours black, with broyling heate doe boyle: And all the Beaſts conſume and burn. The Prophet than to toyle Begins And mixed wyne and Mylke vpon the Aultars throwes. And all the Dongeon darke, and wyde with ſtreamin bl od it flowes. Than out with thundring voyce agayne the Prophet calles and cryes. And ſtraight as much wt mumbling mouth he champs in ſecret wyſe The trees do turne The Riuers ſ ā . The ground with roring ſhakes. And all the world as ſeemes to mee, with fearefull trembling quakes. I am heard, I am heard, than out aloude the Prieſt began to cry: Whan all the damp ed fo •• les by heapes abrode outruſhing fly. Then woods with rumbling noyſe, doe oft reſounding make. And Heauen, and Earth together goe. And bowes and trees do crake. And Thūders roore. And Lightnings flaſh. And waues aloft doe fly. And ground retyres: and Dogs doe bawl: and Beaſtes are heard to cry. And whyther long of Acheron, that lothſom Flud that lowes All ſtinking ſtreames: or of the earth, that out her Bowels throwes, Free place to Sprights to geue: or of that fierce infernall Hound, That at ſuch times doth buſtling make wt chayns, & railing ſound. The Earth al wide it open ga es. And I did ſee on ground, The Gods with colour pale and wan, that thoſe dark kingdoms keepe. And very night I ſaw in deede, and thouſand ſhapes to creepe, From out thoſe filthy ſtinking Lakes, and lothſom pits of Hell. Where all the euils vnder Son, in darkſom ſhades doe dwell. So quaking all for feare I ſtoode with minde right ſore apalde, Whilſt on thoſe Gods wt trembling mouth the Prieſt full often calde. Who all at once, out of theyr dens did ſkip with grie ly Face. And Monſters grim, and ſtinging Snakes ſeemd wander in that place. And all the fowleſt Feendes of Hell, and Furies all were theare. And all trāſformed Ghoſts & ſprights, that euer Hell did beare. With Cares, ahd all Diſeaſes vyle, that mortall mynds doe cruſh, All thoſe, and more I ſawe out of thoſe Dangeons deepe to ruſh, And Age I ſawe, with riueled Fa e, and Neede, & Feare, and Death. And Fyre, and flames, & thouſand ills out fro thoſe Pits to breath. Then I was gon: and quight amazd. The wenche in worſer caſe. And yet of olde, acquaynted with her Fathers Artes ſhe was. The Prieſt himſelfe vnmooued ſtoode, and boldly cited owt: Whole Armies of king Ditis men, who cluſtring in a Rowt: All flittring thin like Cloudes, diſperſt abrode in Ayre doe fly. And bearing ſundry ſhapes and formes doe ſc d abou in Sky, A thouſand woods I thinke haue not ſo many leaues on trees. Ten thouſand medowes freſh haue not ſo many flowers for bees. Ten hundred thouſand riuers not ſo many Foule can ſhow: Nor all the drops and ſtreams, and gulphes that in the Seas do flow If that they might be wayed, can ſure ſo great a number make As could thoſe ſhapes and formes that flew from out of Limbo lake. Both Tantalus and Zetus too, and pale Amphions Ghoſt: And A gaue, and after her ten thouſand Sprightes do poſt. Than Pentheus, and more and more, in like eſtate enſue: Til out at length comes Laius with foule and griſly hue: Vncomly breſt in wretched plight with fylth all ouergrowne: All perſt with wounds, (I loth to ſpeake) with bloud quight ouerflown A Miſer ryght as ſeemd to me, and moſt of Miſers all: Thus in this caſe, at length he ſpake, and thus began to call. O Cadmus cruel Citty v le, that ſtil delightſte in bloud, O Cadmus thou, which kinſmens death, accountſt as chiefeſt good Teare out the bloudy Bowels of your Children, learne of me, Do that, and rather more, then you would byde the day to ſee Like ills as late on mee are light. Loe mothers loue (alas) Hath cauſd the greateſt miſery that ere in Theba was. The Countrey with the wrath of Gods at this tyme is not toſt. Nor yearth nor ayre infect is not the cauſe that all bene loſt. No No. A bloudy King is cauſe of all theſe miſchiefes great: A bloudy wretch: A wretched child that ſits in Fathers Seate: And Mothers bed defyles (O wretch) and entreth in agayne, In places whence he came from once and doubleth ſo her payne, Whilſt that hee ils the haples wombe wher in himſelfe did lie With graceles ſeede and cauſeth her twiſe childbirthes pangues to try: Vnhappy Sonne, but Father worſe and moſt vnhappy hee, By whom the lawes of ſacred ſhame ſo ſore confounded bee. For that that very beſtes (almoſt) do all abh rre to do, Euen of his mothers body he hath brothers gotten two. O miſchiefe great: O dredful deede, then Sphinx, O mōſter more: Example vnto ages all of Gods foretold before. But I thee, thee, that Scepter boldſt, thy Father wil purſue, And wreacke my ſelfe on thee and thyne with plagues & vengeance due. All reſtles rage of ſpite and paiue I will vppon thee blow, And all the furies foule of hell vppon thee I will throw. I wil ſubuert thy Houſes cleane, for this thy lothſome luſt: I wil do this thou wretch: And thee, and thyne conſume to duſt. Wherfore diſpatch at once (I ſay) into exile driue your King. That ground y firſt of all he leaues, with freſh grene graſſe ſhall ſpring. And ſweete, and pleaſaunt Ayre, and healthfull blaſts ſhall ryſe, And all the euills vnder Sun, that mortall men ſurpriſe: The Pocks, the Piles, the Botch, the blaine, & death with him ſhall fly. And with him miſchiefs all ſhall paſſe, and Monſters vnder Sky. And as for him I know hee would depart with willing mynde: But I will clog his Fec •• , and hands, hſs way he ſhall not finde. But groping with his aged ſtaffe, ſhall paſſe from place to place. This ſhall he doe. And none ſhall rue vpon his ruthfull caſe. Rid you the Monſter from the Earth, for Heauen let mee alone. No ſooner ſayd, but ſtraight away, his dreadfull Ghoſt was gone. And faſt by thouſands after him, th'other Sprights in hyde: Than Cold & trembling feare began through all my bones to glyde. OED. The thing I alwayes fearde, I ſee vpon mee now is layde: But ſlender props they are (God wot) whereby your Treaſon is ſtayde. Meropa my Mother deare, ſhall mee from this defend: Polybius eke ſhall purge mee quight, from Actions all, that tend To murder, or to inceſt vile, they both ſhall mee excuſe. In ſuch a caſe no meanes at all of tryall I refuſe. Lay what you can vnto my charge. No fault in mee remayns. The Thebanes long or I came heere, of Laius death complayns. My Mother yet alyue, my Father ſtill in like eſtate. No, no, this is ſome dol iſhe drift, of yo falſe Prophets pate. Or elſe ſome mighty God aboue, doth beare me no good will, And ſeekes by Plagues on mee to wreke, his wrathfull vengeaunce ſtil. Ah Sir I am glad at length I ſmell your drifts and fetches fyne. I know the whole confederacy your ſleights I can vntwyne. That beaſtly Prieſt, that blearayed wretch beelyes the Gods and mee: And thee thou Traytour in my place hath promiſt king to bee. CRE. Alas would I my Siſter of, her lawfull kingdome ſpoyle? Thinke you ſuch treaſon may haue place in brothers breaſt to boyle? Yf that myne Oth could me not keepe content with my degree: But that contemning meane eſtate, I would cl me aloft to bee. Yet ſhould ill Fortune mee deter, from ſuch attempts I trowe: Whoſe guiſe it is on Princes heads, huge heapes of Ca es to throwe. I would aduiſe your grace betimes this charge from you to caſt: Leaſt lingring long all vnawares, you be oppreſt at laſt. Aſſure your ſelfe, in baſer ſtate, more ſafer you may liue: And ſhun a thouſand Cares, & G •• eſs: which Princes hearts doe riue. OED. And doſt thou me exhort thou laue my kingdome for to leaue? O ſaythleſſe head. O ſhameleſſe heart, y could ſuch treaſons weaue? Darſt thou attempt thou villayae vile this thing, to me to breake? And fearſt thou not in ſuch a cauſe ſo boldly for to ſpeake. CRE. I would perſwade them ſo (O King) who freely might poſſeſſe Their Realmes ſuch piteous cares I ſee, do Prynces hearts oppreſſe: But as for you of force you muſt your Fortunes chainge abyde. OED. The ſureſt way for them that gape for kingdoms large, & wyde, Is firſt things meane, and reſt, and peace, and baſe eſtate to prayſe: And yet with Tooth and Nayle, to toyle to mount aloft alwayes. So often times, moſt reſtleſſe beaſtes doe chiefly reſt commend. CRE. Shall not my ſeruice long ſuffice my truth for to defend? OED. Time is the onely meanes for ſuch, as thou to worke theyr will. CRE. It is ſo ſyr, but as for mee, of goods I haue my fill. A great reſort. A pleaſaunt life: from Princely cares exempt. All theſe might (ſurely) mee diſſwade from ſuch a foule attempt. There is no day almoſt (O King) the whale yeare thorow out, Where in ſome royall gyfts are not from countreys round about Vnto mee ſent, both Golde, and pearles, and things of greater coſt, Which I let paſſe, leaſt I ſhould ſeeme but vainly for to boſt. Beſides the life of many a man hath bin preſerude by mee. In ſuch a bliſ ull ſtate (O King) what can there wanting bee? OE. (Good Fortune can no meane obſerue, but ſtil ſhe preaſeth higher.) CRE. Shall I than guiltleſſe die (alas,) my cauſe and all vntryde? OED. Were vnto you at any time my life, my deedes diſcride? Did any man defend mee yet? or els my cauſes pleade? And guiltleſſe yet I am condemn'de to this you doe mee leade, And mee expreſſe example giue, which I entend to take. What meaſure you doe meat to mee, lyke meaſure muſt I make. CRE. The minde which cauſeleſſe dred appawls, true cauſe of feare bewraies That cōſciēce is not guiltles ſure, which euery blaſt diſmates. OED. Hee that in midſt of perilles deepe, and daūgers hath bene caſt, Doth ſeeke all meanes to ſhun like ills as hee hath ouerpaſt. CR. So hatreds ryſe. OE. Hee that to much doth vſe ill will to feare, Unſkilfull is: and knowes not how, hee ought him ſelfe to beare In kings eſtate. For feare alone doth Kingdomes chiefly keepe. Than hee that thus doth arme himſelfe from feare all free may ſleepe. CRE. Who ſo the cruell tyrant playes, and guiltleſſe men doth ſmight, Hee dreadeth them that him doe dread, ſo feare doth chiefly light On cauſers chiefe. A iuſt reuenge for bloudy mindes at laſt. OED. Come take this traytor vile away, In dongeon deepe him faſt Encloſe. There for his due deſerts, let him abide ſuch payne And ſcourge of minde (as meete it is) falſe traytors to ſuſtayne. Chorus. SEt, ſee, the myſerable State, of Prynces carefull lyfe. What raging ſtorms? what bloudy broyles? what toyle? what endleſſe ſtryfe Doe they endure? (O God) what plagues? what griefe do they ſuſtayne? A Princely lyfe: No. No. (No doubt) an euer duringe payne. A ſtate ene fit for men on whom Fortune woulde wreke her will. A place for Cares to couch them in. A doore wyde open ſtill For griefes and daungers all that ben to enter when they liſt. A king theſe Mates muſt euer haue, it bootes not to reſiſt. Whole fluds of priuy pinching feare, great anguiſhe of the minde: Apparant plagues, & dayly griefes. Theſe playfayres Princes finde. And other none, with whom they ſpend, and paſſe theyr wretched dayes. Thus hee that Princes liues, and baſe Eſtate together wayes: Shall finde the one a very hell, a perfect infelicity: The other eke a heauen right, exempted quight from myſery. Let OEdipus example bee of this vnto you all, A Mirrour meete. A Patern playne, of Princes carefull thrall. Who late in perfect Ioy as ſeem'de, and euerlaſting blis, Triumphantly his life out led, a Myſer now hee is, And moſt of wretched Miſers all, euen at this preſent tyme, With doubtfull waues of feare Itoſt, ſubiect to ſuch a Cryme Whereat my tongue amaſed ſtayes, God graunt that at the laſt, It fall not out as Creon tolde. Not yet the worſt is paſt,
THE FOVRTH ACTE.
THE FIRSTE SCENE. OEdipus. Iocaſta. MY mynde with doubtfull waues of dread, is toſſed to and fro, I wot not what to ſay (Alas) I am tormented ſo. For all the Gods on me doe cry, for paynes and vengeaunce due. They ſay that theſe my guiltleſſe hands. king Laius lately ſlue. But this my conſcience voyde of crime and mynde from miſchiefe free: To Gods vntried, to mee well known denies it ſo to bee: Full well I doe remember •• ce by chaunce I did diſpatch, A man who ſought by force with mee preſumptuouſly to match. His purpoſe was (a fond attempt) my Chariot for to ſtay, This I remember well enough, the ſtrife was in the way. And he a man well ſteept in yeares, and I a luſty bloud, And yet of meere diſdayne and pride in vayne hee mee withſtood. But this from, Thebes farre was done, a croked three pathd way, That was the place in which we fought: it hard by Phocis lay. Deare Wyfe reſolue my doubts at once, and mee expreſly tell. How old was Laius the King whan this miſchaunce befell? Was he of freſh and luſty yeares? or ſtricken well in age When he was kilde? O eaſe my thoughts of this tormenting rage. IOC. Betwixt an old man an a yong: but nearer to an olde. OED. Were there great Bands of men wt him his Perſon to vpholde? IOC. Some by the way deceiued were, and ſome deterd by payne. A fewe by toyle and labour long, did with their Prince remayne. OE. Were any ſlayne in his defence? IO. Of one report is rife, Who co ſtant in his princes cauſe full ſtoutly loſt his lyfe. OED. It is enough, I knowe the man that hath this miſchiefe done. The number and the place agrees. The time vntried alone Remaynes: Than tell what time hee died, and when that he was ſlaine. IOC. Tis ten yeares ſince: you now reuiue my chifeſt cares againe.
THE FOVRTH ACTE. THE SECOND SCENE. Senex. OEdipus. THe Corinth people all (O King) in Fathers place to rayn Doe call your Grace: Polybius doth eternall reſt obtayn. OED. O God what Fortune vyle doth mee oppreſſe on euery ſide? How doe my ſorrowes ſtill encreaſe? Tell how my Father dide. SEN. No ſickneſſe (ſir) but very age did of his life him reaue. OED. And is hee dead: in deede? not ſlayne? what ioy may I tonceaue? How may I now triumph? the Gods to witneſſe I doe call, To whom are known my hidden thoughts and ſecret workings al: Now may I li •• to ſkyes my hands, my hands from miſchiefe free. But yet the chiefeſt a ſe of feare remayneth ſtill to mee. SEN. Your Fathers kingdom ought al dred out of your mind to driue. OED. That I cōfeſſe. But ſecret thoughts my trembling heart do riue With inward doubt of deepe diſtreſſe, my Mother I do feare. This grudge is that continually my heart doth rent and teare. SEN. Do you your Mother feare? on your return that onely ſlayes. OED. I feare not her: but from her ſight, a godly zeale mee frayes. S. What will you her a Wydow leaue? OE. Now, now, thou w fi ſt 〈◊〉 heart. This, this, and onely this (alas,) is cauſe of all my ſmart. SEN. Tell me (O king) what doubtfull feare? doth preſſe thy princely breſt: Kings coūcels I can well cōceale that en with Cares oppreſt. OED. Leaſt as Apollo hath forefolde, I ſhould a Mariage make With myne owne Mother: only this fowle feare doth make me quake. SEN. Such vayne & peuyſh feares, at length from out your breaſt exyle. Meropa your Mother is not in deede, you do your ſelfe beguil . OED. What vauntage ſhould it be to her adopted Sonnes to haue? SEN. A kingdom ſhe ſhall gayne thereby. Her Husband layde in graue. The chiefeſt prop to ſ ay her Realmes from preſent confuſion, In children for to haue: and hope of lawfull ſucceſſion. OED. What are the meanes whereby thou doſt theſe ſecrets vnderſtād. SEN. My ſelfe (your grace) an Infant gaue into your fathers hand. OED. Didſt thou me to my Father geue? Who than gaue me to thee? SEN. A Sheparde ſtr; that w nted on Cytheron Hills to bee. OE. What made thee in thoſe woods to raūge? what hadſt thou there to do? SEN. Vpon thoſe Hils my Beaſts I kept, ſomtime a Sheepeherde to. OE. What nots, what priuy marks haſt thou, wherby thou doſt me kno? SE. The holes y through your feete are borde frō whēce your name did gro. OE. Declare forthwith what was his name y gaue me vnto thee. SE. The kings chief Shephard than that was, deliuered you to mee. OE. What was his name? SE. O king old mens remēbrance ſoone doth fayle: Obliuton for the chieteſt part, doth boary heads aſſayle. And drowns their former memory of things long out of mynde. OE. What? canſt thou know y man by ſight? S. Perhaps I ſhould him finde, And know by Face. Things ouer whelmd by time, and quight oppreſt. A ſmall marke oft to mynde reuokes, and freſh renues in breſt. OE. Sirs bid the Herdmen forth wt driue theyr Beaſts to Aulters all. Away with ſpeede, make haſt, the Maſter Sheepherds to mee call. SE. Sith that your deſ ny this doth hyde, and Fortune it detayue And cloſely keepe let it be ſo, from opening that refrayne. That long canceald hath hidden lyen, that ſeeke not to diſcloſe Such things outſercht and foūd oftimes agaynſt the ſercher goes. OE. Can any miſchiefe greater be? than this that now I feare. SE. Aduiſe you wel remembre fyrſt what weight this thing doth beare: That thus you goe about to ſcarch, and ſlit with Tooth and Nayle, Obſerue the golden meane: beware beare ſtill and equall ſayle. Your Coūtreys wealth (O King) your lyfe, and all vpon this lyes. Though you ſtir not, bee ſure at length your Fortune you eſcryes. A happy ſtate for to diſturbe doth nought at all behoue. OE. When things be at the worſt, of them a man may ſafely moue. SE. Can you haue ought more excellent? than is a Prynces ſtate? Beware leaſt of your Parents found it you repent to late. OE. No (father) no I warrant that: repent not I (I trow.) I ſeeke it not to that entent. I haue decreed to know, The matter at the full. Wherefore I will it now purſus. Lo Phorbas: where hee trembling coms, with comely aged h •• . To whom of all the kinges flack than, the care and charge was due. Doſt thou his name, his ſpeach his Face, or yet his perſon know? SE. Me thinks I ſhould haue ſeene his Face, and yet I cannot ſhow The places where I haue him ſeene, ſmall time brings ſuch a chainge, As well acquaynted Faces oſt, to vs appeare ſtill ſtrainge. This looke is neyther throughly known, nor yet vnknown to mee, I cannot tell: I doubt it much, and yet it may bee hee. In Laius tyme long ſince when hee theſe Kindomes great did keepe? Waſt thou not on Citheron hils chiefe Shepard to his ſheepe?
THE FOVRTH ACTE. THE THIRDE SCENE. Phorbas. Senex. OEdipus. SOmetime a charge of ſheepe I had, vnworthy though I weer. And did vpon thoſe hills chiefe rule on other Shepards beare. SE. Knowſt thou not me. PH. I cannot tell. OE. Didſt thou once geue this man A Childe. Speake out, why doſt thou ſtay? if ſo, declare it than. Why doſt thou bluſh and doubting ſtand, troth ſeeketh no delay? PH. Things out of minde you call agayne, almoſt quight worne away. OE. Confeſſe thou ſlaue, orels I ſweare, thou that conſtrayned bee PH. In deede I doe remembre once, an Infant yong by mee, Delyuered was vnto this Man: but well I wot in vayne, I know he could not long endure, nor yet alyue remayne. Long ſince he is dead (I know it well) hee liues not at this day. SE. Eo? God ſorbid, he liues no doubt, and long may liue I pray. OE. Why doſt thou ſay the child is dead, that thou this man didſt giue? PH. With Irons ſharp his feete were board, I know he could not liue, For of the ſore a ſwelling roſe, I ſaw the bloud to guſh From out of both the wounds: and down by powring ſtreames to fluſh. SEN. Now ſtay (O king) p farther now, you know almoſt the troth. OE. Whoſe child was ••• tell •• e forthw. PH. I dare not for mine Othe. OE. Thine Oth thou ſlaue? Some fyre here. Ile charme thine Othe and thee, With fyre & flames: except forthwith thou tell the troth to mee. PH. O pardon me, though rade I ſeeme, I ſeeke nor to withſtand name? Your graces minde: (moſt noble king.) My life is in your hand. OED. Tell me y troth, what child, & whoſe, What was his Mothers P. Born of your wyfe. OE. O gaping earth deuour my body quight: Or elſe thou God that 〈◊〉 art of houſes voyde of light, To Hell my Saule with thunder boltes to Hell my Soule down dryue. Where grieſly Ghoſts in darke neſſe deepe, and endleſſe payne do lyue. For thee alone, theſe Plagues doe rage. For thee theſe miſchiefes ryſe. For thee, the Earth lyes deſolate. For thee thou wretch the Skies Infected are. For thee, for thee, and for the ſlithy luſt, A hundred thouſand guiltleſſe men, conſumed are to duſt. O people throw: caſt heapes of ſtones vpon this hatefull Hed: Bath all your ſwords within my breſt: you furies ouerſhed My reſtleſſe thoughts, with raging woes and plungde in ſeas of pain. Let mee thoſe hōrrors ſtill endure, which damned ſoules ſuſtain. You citizens of Stately Thebes vex me with torments dile. Let Father, Son, and Wyfe, and all with vengeance me •• rſue. Let thoſe that for my ſake alone with plagues 〈◊〉 bee Throw dar s, caſt ſtones, fling f er and ſlames, and tortures all on mee. O ſhame: O ſlaunder of the World: O hate of Gods aboue. Confounder O of Nature thou to lawes of ſacred loue, Euen from thy birth an open Foe. Thou didſt deſerue to dye As ſoone as thou waſt born. Go, go, vnt the Court thee hye, There with thy Mother (ſlaue) triumph reioyce as thou maiſt do. Who haſt thy houſe encreaſed with vnhappy children ſo. Make haſte with ſpeede, away, ſome thing thy miſchiefs worthy finde. And on thy ſelfe wrecke all the ſpight of thy reuenging minde. Chorus. FOrtune the guide of humaine lyfe doth al things chaūge at will. And ſtirrīg ſtil, wt reſtles thoughts our wretched mīdes doth fill. In vayn men ſtriue their ſtats to kepe whē hidrous tēpeſts riſe: And bluſtring windes of daungers deepe ſets death before their eyis. Who ſaith he doth her fauning feele? & chaūgeth not his minde, When fickle fight of Fortunes wheele doth turne by courſe of kinde. Theſe greuous plagues frō priuat houſe to princely Thrones do flow, And oft thier minds with cares they ſouſe and thick vpon thē ſtrow. Whole heapes of griefe and dyre debate, a wofull thing to ſee: A Princely lyfe to myſers ſtate, conuerted for to bee. O OEdipus thy fatall fall, thy dreadfull miſchiefs ryght. Thy dolfull ſtate, thy myſery, thy thriſe vnhappy plight: Theſe things ſhall blaſe through all y world: what heart may thē reioyce At thy diſtreſſe? I can no more: my teares doe ſtop my voyce. But what is he that yonder ſtamps? and raging puffs and blowes. And often ſhakes his vexed head, ſome miſchiefe great hee knowes. Good ſir your countnaunce doth import ſome great and fearefull thing, Tell vs therefore (if that you may) what newes from Court you bring.
THE FIFTE ACTE. NVNTIVS. VVhen OEdipus accurſed wretch, his fatall fals had ſpied, To hell be damnd his wretched ſoule and on the Gods he cryed For vengeaunce due. And poſting faſt with franticke moode grieſly hue, Vnto his dole full Court hee went, his thoughts for to purſue. Much like a Lion ramping wylde, his furtous head that ſhakes. And roares with thundring mouth aſowd, and often gnaſhing makes, None otherwiſe this miſer farde. A lothſome ſight to ſee. Beſides himſelfe for very rage, he ſtill deſires to dye. And rowling round his wretched Eyes with vyſage pale and wan: Ten thouſand Curſers out he powres. Himſelfe the vnhappieſt man Of all that liue, he doth account: as iuſtly he may doe. A wretch, a ſlaue, a cait ſe vyle. The cauſe of all our woe. And in this caſe enflamd with ſpight he crtes, he ſtamps, he raues. And boyling in his ſecret thoughts, he ſtill deſyres to haue All torments vnder ſun that may his Cares conceiude encreaſe. O wretched wyght, what ſhould hee doe? What man may him releaſe? Thus foming all for rage at mouth, with ſighes, and ſobs, & grones, His damned head ten thouſand times, as oft his weryed bones He beats. And often puffing makes, and roares, and ſwels, & ſweats. And on the Gods for death hee calles, for Death hee ſtill entreats, Three times he did begin to ſpeake: and thryſe his tong did ſtay. At length he cried out alowd: O wretch. Away, away. Away thou monſtrous Beaſt (he ſayd:) wilt thou prolong thy lyfe? Nay rather ſome man ſtrike this breaſt with ſtrooke of bloudy knyfe. Or all you Gods aboue on mee your flaming fiers outcaſt: And dints of Thunderbolts down throw. This is my prayer laſt. What greedy vile deuouring Gripe, vpon my guts will gnaw? That Tigre fierce my hatefull limmes will quight a lunder draw? Loe, here I am you Gods: Lee, heere, wreke now on me your will. Now, now you fyry Feendes of Hell, of vengeaunce take your fill. Send out ſome wilde outragious beaſt ſend Dogs mee to deuoure. Or els all ils you can deuiſe, at once vpon me powre. O wofull ſoule. O ſinfull wretch. Why doſt thou feare to dye? Death only rids frō woes thou knowſt. Than ſtoutly Death defle. With that his bloudy fatall Blade, from out his ſheath he drawes. And lowd he rores, wt thūdring voice. Thou beaſt why doſt thou pawſe? Thy Father curſed caitife thou, thy Father thou haſt ſlayne And in thy Mothers bed haſt left an euerduring ſlayne. And Brothers thou haſt got: nay Sons thou lieſt: thy Brothers all They are. Thus for thy monſtrous luſt thy Countrey down doth fall. And thinkſt thou than for all theſe ils enough ſo ſhort a payne? Thynkſt thou the Gods will be apeaſde, if thou forth with be ſlayne? So many miſchiefes don: and iſt enough one ſtroke to bydt? Account'ſte thou it ſufficient paynes, that once thy ſword ſhould glide Quight through thy guilty breaſt for all? why than diſpatch and dye. So maiſt thou recompence thy Fathers death ſufficiently. Let it be ſo: what mends vnto thy Mother will thou make Vnto thy children what? theſe plagues (O wretch) how wilt thou ſlake? That thus for thee thy countrey maſtes? Ohe push ſhall ende them all. A proper fetch. A fi e deuiſe. For thee a worthy fall. Inuent thou monſtrous beaſt forthwith: a fall euen worthy for Thy ſelfe inuent: whom all men hate and loth, and doe abhor. And as dame Natures lawfull courſe is broke (O wretch) by thee. So let to ſuch a miſchiefe great, thy Death agreeing bee. O that I might a thouſand times, my wretched lyfe renewe. O that I might reuyue and dye by courſe in order dewe. Ten hundred thouſand times & more: than ſhould I vengeance take Vpon this wretched head. Than I perhaps in part ſhould make A meete amends in deede, for this my fowle and lothſom Sin. Than ſhould the proofe of payne reproue the life that I liue in. The choyſe is in thy hand thou wretch, than vſe thine owne diſcretion. And finde a meanes, whereby thou maiſt come to extreame confuſion. And that, that oft thou maiſt not doe, let it prolonged bee. Thus, thus, maiſt thou procure at length an endleſſe death to thee. Serch out a death whereby thou mayſt perpetuall ſhame obtayne: And yet not dye. But ſtill to liue in euerlaſting payne. Why ſtayſt thou man? Go to I ſay: what meane theſe blubbring teares? Why weepſt thou thus? Alas to late. Leaue of thy foolyſh feares. And iſt enough to weepe thinkſt thou? ſhall teares and wayling ſerue? No wretch it ſhall not be. Thou doſt ten thouſand deaths deſerue. Myne ey es doe dally with mee I ſee, and teares doe ſtill out powre. Shall teares ſuffice? No, no, not ſo I ſhall them better ſcowre, Out with thine Eyes (he ſayd:) and than with fury fierce enflam'de. Like to a bloudy raging Feend and monſtrous beaſt vntam, de. With fiery flaming ſpotted Cheekes his breaſt he often beats. And ſcratch, and teare his Face hee doth and Skin a ſunder freats. That ſcarſe his eyes in head could ſtand ſo ſore he them beſets. With furious fierce outrageous minde hee ſtamps and cries alowd: And roares & rayles, with ramping rage. Thus in this caſe he ſtood, Perplext, and vexed ſore in minde, with deadly ſighs and teares. When ſodenly all franticklike himſelfe from ground hee reares. And rooteth out his wretched Eyes, and ſight a ſunder teares. Than gnaſheth bee his bloudy Teeth, and bites, and gnawes, & champs, His Eyes all bathd and brude in bloud, for fury fierce he ſtamps. And raging more than needes (alas,) his Eyes quight rooted out: The very holes in vayne hee ſcrapes ſo ſore the wretch doth dout: Leaſt ſight ſhould chaunce for to remayne he rents and mangels quight His Face, his Noſe, his Mouth, and all whereon his hands do light Hee rygs and ryues. Thus fowly rayd (alas) in piteous plight: At length his head aloft he lifts, and therewith geues a ſhright. And whan he ſees that all is gone, both light, and ſight, and all. Than ſchriching out: he thus begins vpon the Gods to call. Now ſpare you Gods, now ſpare at length my countrey preſt to fall. I haue done that you did cōma nd: Your wraths reuenged bee. This wretched looke, this mangled face, is fitteſt now for mee. Thus ſpeaking, down the blackiſh bloud by ſtreams doth guſhing flow Into his mouth. And clottred lumps of fleſh the place doth ſtrow Wherein hee ſtandes. Beware betimes, by him beware, I ſpeake vnto you all. Learne Iuſtice, truth, and feare of God by his vnhappy fall. Chorus. MAns lyfe wt tumbling fatal courſe of fortunes wheele is rowld, To it giue place for it doth run all ſwifily vncontrowld. And Cares & teares are ſpent in vayn, for it cannot be ſlayed: Syth hi decree of heauenly powers perforce muſt be obayed. What mankind byded or does on earth it cōmeth from aboue, Then wayling grones powrd out in griefe do nought at all behoue. Our life muſt haue her pointed courſe, (alas) what ſhall I ſay. As fates decree, ſo things do run, no man can make them ſtay. For at our byrth to Gods is known our latter dying day. No Prayer, no Arte, not God himſelfe may fatall fates reſiſt. But faſtned all in fixed courte, vnchaunged they perſiſt. Such ende them ſtill enſues as they appointed were to haue, Than fly all feare of Fortunes c ng, leeke hot to lyue a ſlaue Enthrald in bondage vyle to feare. For feare doth often bring Deſtnies that dreaded ben and miſchiefs feard vpon vs fling. Yea many a man hath come vnto his fatall ende by feare. Wherefore ſet peuiſh feare aſide, and worthy courage beare. And thou that ſubiect art to death. Regard thy latter day. Thinke no man bleſt before his ende. Aduiſe thee well and ſtay. Be ſure his lyfe, and death, and all, be quight exempt from myſery: Ere thou do once preſume to ſay: this man is bleſt and happy. But out alas, ſee where he coms: a wretch withouten Guide, Bereft of ſight. Halfe ſpoyld of lyfe: without all Pomp, and Pride (That vnto Kings Eſtate belonge.)
THE FIFTE ACTE. THE SECOND SCENE. OEdipus. Chorus, Iocaſta. WEll, well, tis done: more yet? No, no, no miſchiefs more remaynee. My Fathers Rytes performed are. What God on Myſers paynes That rues within this Cloud hath rolde, and wrapt my wretched Pate. Ah ſir: this is a life alone. This is a happy State. This is a caſe ene fit for thee, for thee thou wretch, for thee. From whoſe accurſed ſight the Sun, the Stars and all doe flee. Yet miſchiefs more, who giues to doe? The dreadfull day I haue Eſcapt. Thou filthy Paracide: thou vile miſchieuous Slaue. Vnto thy right hand nought thou owſt, all things performed bee. O woe is mee that euer I liu'de this luckleſſe day to ſee. Where am I now? Alas, alas, the light and all doth mee Abhor: O wretched OEdipus this looke is firſt for thee. CHO. See, ſee, where Iocaſta coms, with fierce and furious moode, Quight paſt her ſelfe. For very rage ſhee frets and waxeth woode. Much like to Cadmus daughter mad, who late hir Sonne did kill. Fayne would ſhe ſpeake her mynde: for ſeare (alas) ſhe dares not: ſtill Shee ſtayes, and yet from out her breaſt theſe ills haue quight exilde All ſhame faſtnes. See how ſhee lookes, with coū 'naunce fierce & wilde. IO. Fayne would I ſpeake, I am afraide. For what ſhould I thee call My Son? doubt not. Thou art my Son. My Son thou art for all Theſe miſchiefs great: alas, alas I ſhame my Son to ſee. O cruell Son. Where doſt thou turn thy Face? Why doſt thou ſlee From me. From me thy Mother deare? Why doſt thou ſhun my ſight? And leaue me thus in miſery, with Cares conſumed quight. OE. Who troubles me? Let me alone. I thought not to be founde: Who now reſtores myne Eyes to mee, Mother? or Mothers ſounde? Our labour all is ſpent in vayne, now may wee meete no more. The Seas deuide thoſe meetings vile that wee haue had before. The gaping earth deuide vs both, th'one from th'other quight. Still let our feete repugnant bee. So ſhall I ſhun the light That moſt of all me grieues. So ſhall I ſpace obtaine to wayle Theſe bleeding woes on euery ſide, that doe my thoughtes aſſayle. IOC. The Deſtentes are in fault. Blame them, Alas, alas, not wee. OED. Spare now. Leaue of to ſpeake in vayne, ſpare now O Mother mee, By theſe Reliques of my diſmembred body I thee pray. By myne vnhappy Children pledges left. What ſhall I ſay? By all the Gods I thee beſeech. By all that in my name Is good or bad, let mee alone. Alas you are to blame To trouble mee. You ſee what hell my hapleſſe heart doth payne. You ſee that in my Conſcience ten thouſand horrors raine. IOC. O dying heart: O ſindrownd ſoule. Why doſt thou faint alas? Why doſt thou ſeeke and toyle in vayne theſe ills to ouerpas? What meane theſe ſighes, & ſcalding teares? why doſt thou death refuſe? Thou mate of all his miſchiefs thou, by whoſe meanes onely rues The law of nature all: by whom, Ah, Ah, confounded lies, Both God, and man, and beaſt, and all that eyther liues or dies. Die thou, diſpatch at once thruſt through thy vile inceſtuous breſt: Thou haſt none other meanes (alas) to ſet thine heart at reſt. Not thou, if God him ſelfe, if he his flaming fiers ſhould throw On thee, or miſchiefs all by heapes vpon thy body ſtrow Couldſt once for thy deſerued ills due paines or vengeaunce pay: Some meanes therefore to wreak Gods wrath vpon thy ſelfe aſſay. Death, death now beſt contenteth mee, then ſeeke a way to dye. So maiſt thou yet at length finde end for all thy miſery. O Son lend mee thy hand: ſith that thou art a Paracyde. This labour laſt of all remaynes, this labour thee doth byde. Diſpatch rid mee thy mother deare from all my deadly woe It will not be: no prayers auaile. Thy ſelfe this deede muſt doe. Take vp this ſword. Goe to, with this thy huſbande late was ſlayne. Huſband? thou term'ſt him falſe: hee was thy ſyer: O deadly payne. Shal I quight through my breſt it driue? or through my throte it thruſt? Canſt thou not chooſe thy wound? away: die, die, (alas) thou muſt. This hateful womb then woūd (O wretch) this, this wt thine own hand Strike, ſtrike it hard: (O ſpare it not) ſith both a huſband, and (The ſame a Son it bare.) CHOR. Alas, alas, ſhee is ſlaine, ſhe is ſlayne, diſpatched with a puſh: Who euer ſawe the like to this: ſee how the bloud doth guſh. O heauy doulfull caſe: who can this dyrefull ſight enduer Which for the hideouſneſſe thereof might teares of ſtones procuer. OED. Thou God, thou teller out of Fates. On thee, on thee, I call, My Father onely I did owe, vnto the Deſtnies all. Now twiſe a Paracide, and worſe than I did feare to bee: My Mother I haue ſlayne. (Alas) the fault is all in mee. O OEdipus accurſed wretch, lament thine owne Calamity, Lament thy ſtate, thy griefe lament, thou Caitife borne to miſery. Where wilt thou now become (alas?) thy Face where wilt thou hyde: O myſerable Slaue, canſt thou ſuch ſhamefull tormentes byde? Canſt thou which haſt thy Parents ſlain? Canſt thou prolong thy life? Wilt thou not dye? deſeruing Death: thou cauſe of all the griefe, And Plagues, and dreadfull miſchiefs all that Thebane City preaſe. Why doſt thou ſeeke by longer life, thy ſorrowes to encreaſe? Why doſt thou toyle and labour thus in vayne? It will not bee. Both God, and man: and beaſt, and all abhorre thy Face to ſee O Earth why gapſt thou not for me why doe you not vnfolde You gates of hell mee to receaue? why doe you hence withholde? The fierce Infernall Feends from me, from me ſo wretched wight? Why breake not all the Furyes loſe this hatefull head to ſmight With Plagues? which them deſerued hath (alas) I am left alone, Both light, and ſight, and comfort all from mee (O wretch) is gone. O curſed head: O wicked wight, whom all men deadly hate. O Beaſt, what meanſt thou ſtill to liue in this vnhappy ſtate? The Skies doe bluſh and are aſhamd, at theſe thy miſchiefes great The Earth laments, y Heauens weepe, the Seas for rage doe freat. And bluſtring riſe, and ſtormes doe ſtir, and all thou wretch for thee. By whoſe inceſt, and bloudy deedes all things diſturbed bee. Quight out of courſe, diſplaced quight, O curſed fatall day. O miſchiefes great, O dreadfull times, O wretch, away, away. Exile thy ſelfe from all mens ſight, thy life halfe ſpent in miſery, Goe end conſume it now outright in thriſe as great calamity. O lying Phoebe thine Oracles my ſin, and ſheme ſurmount: My Mothers death amongſt my deedes; thou neuer didſt recount. A meete Exploict for me that a to Nature deadly Foe. With trembling fearefull pace goe forth, thou wretched monſter goe, Grope out thy wayes on knees in darke thou miſerable Slaue. So maiſt thou yet in tract of time due paynes, and vengeaunce haue, For thy miſcheuous lyfe. Thus, thus, the Gods themſelues decree. Thus, thus, thy Fates: thus, thus, the ſkyes appoint it for to bee. Then headlong hence, with a miſchiefe hence, thou caitife vyle away. Away, away, thou monſtrous Beaſt. Goe, Run. Stand, ſtay, Leaſt on thy Mother thou doe fall. All you that wearyed bodies haue, with ſtickeneſſe ouerpreſt. Loe, now I fly: I fly away, the cauſe of your vnreſt. Lift vp your heads: a better ſtate of Ayre ſhall ſtrayght enſewe Whan I am gone: for whom alone, theſe dreadfull myſchiefs grewe. And you that now, halfe dead yet liue in wretched miſers caſe. Help thoſe whō preſent torments preſſe forth, hye you on apace. For loe, with me I cary hence, all miſchiefes vnder Skyes. All cruell Fates, Diſeaſes all that for my ſake did ryſe, With mee they goe: with me both griefe, Plague, Pocks, Botch, & all The ills that eyther now you preſſe, or euer after ſhall. With me they goe, with me: theſe Mates bin meetſt of all for mee. Who am the moſt vnhappieſt wretch that euer Sun did ſee. FINIS.
THE SIXTE TRAGEDIE OF THE MOST GRAVE & prudēt Author LVCIVS ANNAEVS SENECA, entituled TROAS, vvith diuers and ſundrye Additions to the ſame, by IASPER HEYVVOOD.
To the Reader.

ALTHOVGH (GENTLE Reader) thou mayſt perhaps thinke mee arrogant, for that I onely among ſo many fine wittes and towardly youth (with which Englād this day floriſheth) haue enterpriſed to ſet forth in engliſh this preſent piece of the flowre of all writers, Seneca, as who ſay, not fearing what grauer heads might iudge of me, in attempting ſo hard a thing, yet vpon well pondering what next enſueth, I truſt both thy ſelfe ſhalt cleare thine owne ſuſpicion, and thy chaunged opinion ſhal iudge of me more rightfull ſentence. For neither haue I taken this worke firſt in hand, as once entending it ſhould come to light (of well doynge wherof I vtterly diſpayred) and beynge done but for myne owne priuate exerciſe, I am in myne opinion herein blameles, thoughe I haue (to proue my ſelfe) priuately taken the part which pleaſed me beſt of ſo excellent an author, for better is tyme ſpent in the beſt then other, and at firſt to attempt the hardeſt writers, ſhall make a mā more prompt to tranſlate the eaſier with more facility. But now ſince by requeſt, & frēdſhip of thoſe, to whom I could denye nothinge, this worke agaynſt my will extorted is out of my hands, I needes muſt raue thy pacience in reading, and facility of iudgement: when thou shalt apparantly ſe my witles lacke of learning, prayng thee to conſider how hard a thing it is for mee to touch at ful in all poynts the authors mynd, (beyng in many places verye harde and doubtfull, and the worke much corrupt by the default of euil printed Bookes) and alſo how farre aboue my power to keepe that Grace and maieſtye of ſtile, that Seneca doth, when both ſo excellent a writer hath paſt the reach of all imitation, and alſo this our English toung (as many thinke, and I here fynd) is farre vnable to compare with the Latten: but thou (good Reader) if I in any place haue ſwerued from the true ſence, or not kept the roialty of ſpeach, meete for a Tragedie, impute the one to my youth and lacke of iudgement: the other to my lacke of Eloquence. Now as concerninge ſondrye places augmented and ſome altered in this my tranſlation. Firſt for aſmuch as this worke ſeemed vnto mee in ſome places vnperfite, whether left ſo of the Author, or parte of it loſte, as tyme deuoureth all thinges, I wot not, I haue (where I thought good) with addition of myne owne Penne ſupplied the wante of ſome thynges, as the firste Chorus, after the first acte begynninge thus. O ye to whom &c. Alſo in the ſeconde Acte I haue added the ſpeache of Achilles Spright, ryſyng from Hell to require the Sacrifyce of Polyxena begynning in this wyſe. Forſakinge now. &c. Agayne the three laste ſtaues of the Chorus after the ſame Acte: and as for the thyrde Chorus which in Seneca beginneth thus, QVE VOCAT SEDES? For asmuch as nothing is therein but a heaped number of farre and ſtraunge Countries, conſiderynge with my ſelfe, that the names of ſo manye vnknowen Countreyes, Mountaynes, Deſertes, and VVoodes, ſhoulde haue no grace in the Engliſhe tounge, but bee a ſtraunge and vnpleaſant thinge to the Readers (excepte I should expound the Historyes of each one, which would be farre to tedious,) I haue in the place therof made another beginninge, in this manner. O Ioue that leadst. &c. VVhich alteration may be borne withall, ſeynge that Chorus is no part of the ſubſtaunce of the matter. In the reſt I haue for my ſlender learninge endeuored to keepe touch with the Latten, not worde for woorde or verſe for verſe, as to expounde it, but neglectynge the placinge of the wordes, obſerued their ſence. Take Gentle Reader this in good woorth with all his faultes, fauour my first beginninges, and amende rather with good will ſuch things as herein are amiſſe, then to depraue or diſcommende my labour and paynes, for the faultes, ſeyng that I haue herein, but onelye made waye to other that canne farre better doe this or like, deſiryng them that as they can, ſo they would. Farewel gentle Reader and accept my good will.

The Argument. THe ten yeares ſiege of Troy, who liſt to heare, And of thaffayres that there befell in fight: Reade ye the workes that long ſince written were, Of all Thaſſaultes, and of that lateſt night, When Turrets toppes in Troy they blaſed bright Good Clerkes they were that haue it written well As for this worke, no word therof doth tell. But Dares Phrygian, well can all report, With Dictis eke of Crete in Greekiſh toung And Homer telles, to Troye the Greekes reſort In ſcanned verſe, and Maro hath it ſong Ech one in writ hath pend a ſtoary long, Who doubtes of ought, and caſteth care to knowe Theſe antique Authors, ſhal the ſtory ſhowe, The ruines twayne of Troy, the cauſe of each, The glittering helmes, in fieldes the Banners ſpread, Achilles yres, and Hectors fightes they teach. There may the ieſtes of many a Knight be read: Patroclus, Pyrrhus, Aiax, Diomed, With Troylus, Parys, many other more, That day by day, there fought infield full ſore. And how the Grekes at end an engine made: A hugie horſe where many a warlike Knight Encloſed was: the Troians to inuade With Sinons craft, when Greekes had fayned flight, While cloſe they lay at Tenedos from ſight, Or hovv Eneas els as other ſay, And falſe Antenor did the tovvne betray. But as for me I naught therof endight, Myne Author hath not all that ſtory pend: My pen his wordes in Engliſh muſt reſight, Of lateſt woes that fell on Troy at end, What finall fates the cruell God could ſend. And how the Greekes when Troy was burnt gan wreake Their ire on Troians, therof ſhall I ſpeake, Not I with ſpere who pearced was in fielde, Whoſe throate there cutte, or head ycorued was Ne bloudſhed blowes, that rent both targe and ſhield Shal I reſight, all that I ouerpaſſe. The worke I wryght more woeful is alas, For I the mothers teares muſt here complayne, And bloud of babes, that giltles haue bene ſlayne. And ſuch as yet could neuer weapon wreaſt, But on the lap are wont to dandled bee, Ne yet forgotten had the mothers breaſt, How Greekes them ſlew (alas) here ſhal ye ſee To make report therof ay woe is mee, My ſong is miſchife, murder, miſery, And hereof ſpeakes this doleful tragedy. Thou fury fel that from the deepeſt den Couldſt cauſe this wrath of hell on Troy to light, That worckeſt woe guyde thou my hand and pen, In weeping verſe of ſobbes and ſighes to wryght, As doth myne author them bewayle aright: Helpe woefull muſe for mee beſemeth wel Of others teares, with weeping eye to tell. When battered were to ground the towres of Troy In writ as auncient authors do reſight, And Greekes agayne repayrde to Seas with ioy, Vp riſeth here from hel Achilles Spright, Vengeance he craues vvith bloud his death to quight. Whom Paris had in Phoebus temple ſlayne, With guile be trapt for loue of Polyxeine. And wrath of hel there is none other pryce That may aſſwage: but bloud of her alone Polyxena he craues for ſacrifyce, With threatninges on the Grecians many one Except they ſhed her bloud before they gone. The Sprightes the hell, and depeſt pittes beneath, O Virgin dere, (alas) do thruſt thy death. And Hectors ſonne, Aſtyanax (alas) Pore ſeely foole his Mothers onely ioy, Is iudgd to die by ſentence of Calchas Alas the whyle, to death is led the boy, And tumbled downe from Turrets tops in Troy. What ruthful teares may ſerue to wayle the woe Of Hectors wyfe that doth her child forgoe. Her pinching pange of hart who may expreſſe, But ſuch as of like woes, haue borne a part? Or who bewayle her ruthful heauines That neuer yet hath felt therof the ſmart? Ful well they wot the woes of heauy hart. What is to leeſe a babe from mothers breaſt, They know that are in ſuch a caſe diſtreſt. Firſt how the Queene lamentes the fall of Troy, As hath mine author done, I ſhall it wryght Next how from Hectors wyfe they led the boy To die, and her complayntes I ſhall reſight, The maydens death then I muſt laſt endight. Now who that liſte the Queenes complaint to here. In following verſe it ſhall forthwith appeare.
The Speakers names. HECVBA Queene of Troy. A company of women. TALTHYBIVS a Grecian. AGAMEMNON King of Greeks. ASTYANAX. NVNCIVS. CALCHAS. PYRRHVS. CHORVS. ANDROMACHA An old man TROIAN. VLYSSES. HELENA. The Sprihgt of Achilles.
THE FIRST ACTE. Hecuba. WHo ſo in pompe of prowde eſtate, or Kingdome ſets delight: Or who that ioyes in Princes courte to beare the ſway of might. Ne dreads the fates which from aboue the wauering Gods downe flinges: But faſt affiance fixed hath, in frayle and fickle thinges: Let him in me both ſe the Face, of Fortunes ftattering ioy: And eke reſpect the ruthful end of thee (Oruinous Troy) For neuer gaue ſhee playner proofe, then this ye preſent ſee: How frayle and britle is the ſtate of pride and high degree, The flowre of flowring Aſia, loe whoſe fame the heauens refound, The Worthy worke of Gods aboue, is ba ered downe to ground. And whoſe aſſaultes they ſought afar, from Weſt wt Banners ſpred Where Tanais cold her braunches ſeuen, abroad the world doth ſhed. With hugie hoſt and from the Eaſt, where ſpringes the neweſt dea, Where Luke warme Tygris channell runnes, and meetes the ruddy ſea. And which frō wandring land of S ythe, the band of widowes ſought: With fire and ſworde thus battered be her Turrets downe to nought. The walles but late of high renowne lo here their ruinous fall: The buildinges burne, and flaſhingflame, ſwepes through the pallas al. Thus euery houſe ful hie it ſmoakes, of old Aſſarackes lande: Ne yet the flames withholdes from ſpoyle, the greedy Victors hand. The ſurging ſmoake, the aſure ſaye, and light hath hid away: And (as with cloude beſet) Troyes Aſhes ſtaynes the duſky day. Through pearſt with ire and greedy of hart, the victor from a farre. Doth vtew the long aſſaulted Troy, the gaine of ten yeares warre, And eke the miſeryes therof abhorres to looke vppon, And though he ſe it yet ſcant himſelfe, belieues might be wonne, The ſpoyles thereof with greedy hand, they ſnatch and beare awaye: A thouſand ſhippes would not receiue aboorde ſo huge a pray The yreful might I do proteſt of Gods aduerſe to mee, My countryes duſt, and Troyan King I call to witnes thee, Whom Troy nowhydes, and vnderneath the ſtones art ouertrode: With al the Gods that guides the Ghoſt, and Troy that lately, ſtoode. And you alſo you flocking Ghoſtes of al my children dere: Ye leſſer Sprightes what euer ill, hath hapned to vs here. What euer Phoebus watriſh face, in fury hath foreſayde: At raging riſe from ſeas when earſt, the monſters had him frayde. In childbed bandes I ſaw it yore, and wiſt it ſhould be ſo: And I in vayne before Caſſandra told it long agoe. Not falſe Vlyſſes kindled hath theſe fires, nor none of his: Nor yet deceyptful Sinons craft, that hath bene cauſe of this. My fyre it is wherwith ye burne, and Parys is the brand That ſmoaketh in thy towres (O Troy) the flowre of Phrygian ſand. But ay (alas) vnhappy age, why doſt thou yet ſo ſore, Bewayle thy Countries fatall fall thou kneweſt it long before: Behold thy laſt calamityes, and them bewayle with wares: Account as old Troys ouerturne, and paſt by many yeares, I ſaw the ſlaughter of the King, and how he loſt his life: By Th' aulter ſ •• e (more miſchiefe was) with ſtroake of Pyrrhus knife. When in his hand he wound his lockes, and drew the King to ground, And hid to hiltes his wicked ſword, in deepe and deadly wound. Which when the ored King had tooke, as willing to bee ſlaynt, Out of the old mans throate he drew his bloudy blade agayne. Not pitty of his yeares (alas) in mans extreameſt age: From ſlaughter might his hand withhold, ne yet his yre aſſwage: The Gods are witnes of the ſame, and eake the ſacrifyes, That in his kingdome holden was, that flat on ground now lies. The father of ſo many Kings Pryam of aunient name, Vntombed lieth and wants in blaſe of Troy: his funerall flame. Ne yet the Gods are wreakt, but loe his Sonnes and daughters all, Such Lordes they ſerue as doth by chance of lot to them befall. Whom ſhall I follow now for pray? or where ſhall I be led There is perhaps amonge the Greekes that Hectors wyfe wil wed. Some man deſyres Helenus ſpouſe ſome would Antenors haue, And in the Greekes their wantes not ſome, that would Caſſandra craue But I (alas) moſt woeful wight whom no man ſeekes to chuſe, I am the only refuge left, and me they cleane refuſe Ye careful captiue company, why ſtints your woful crye? Beate on your breaſtes and piteouſly complayne with voyce ſo hye, As meete may be for Troyes eſtate, let your complayntes rebound In toppes of Trees: and cauſe the hills to ring with terible ſounde.
THE SECOND SCENE. The VVoman, Hecuba. NOt folke vnapt, nor nevv to vveepe (O Queene) Thou vvilſt to vvayle by practiſe are vvee taught, For all theſe yeares in ſuch caſe haue vve bene, Since firſt the Troyan gueſt, Amiclas ſoughte And ſaild the Seas, that led him on his vvay With ſacred ſhip, to Cibell dedicate From vvhence he brought his vnrepyning pray, The cauſe (alas) of all this dire debate, Ten tymes novv hydde the hilles of Idey bee, With ſnovve of Syluer hevv all ouer layd. And bared is, for Troyan rages each tree, Ten tymes in field, the harueſt man afrayde, The ſpikes of Corne hath reapt, ſince neuer day His waylyng wantes new cauſe renewes our woe Lift vp thy hand, (O Queene) crie well away: We follow thee, we are wel taught thereto. HEC. ¶Ye faythful fellowes of your caſualty, Vntie thattyre, that on your heads ye weare, And as behoueth ſtate of miſery. Let fall aboute your woeful neckes your hayre. In duſt of Troy rub all your armes about, In ſlacker weede and let your breaſtes be tyed Downe to your bellies let your limmes lye out, For what wedlocke ſhould you your boſomes hyde? Your garmentes looſe, and haue in readines Your furious handes vppon your breaſt to knocke This habite well beſeemeth our diſtreſſe, It pleaſeth me, I know the Troyan flocke Renew agayne your longe accuſtomde cryes, And more then earſt lament your miſeryes. We bewayle Hector. WO. ¶Our hayre we haue vntide, now euerychone, All rent for ſorrow of our curſed cace, Our lockes out ſpreads, the knottes we haue vndone And in theſe aſhes ſtayned is our face. HEC. ¶Fill vp your handes and make therof no ſpare, For this yet lawful is from Troy to take Let dovvne your garmentes from your ſhoulders bare. And ſuffer not your clamour ſo to ſlake. Your naked breaſtes wayte for your handes to ſmight Now dolor deepe now ſorrow ſhevv thy might: Make all the coaſtes that compas Troy about Witnes the ſouude of all your careful crye Cauſe from the Caues the eccho to caſt out: Rebounding voyce of all your miſery: Not as ſhe wontes, the latter word to ſound But all your woe from farre let it rebound Let al the Seas it heare, and eke the land Spare not your breaſtes vvith heauy ſtroake to ſtrike Beate ye your ſelues, ech one vvith cruell hand For yet your vvonted crie doth me not like VVe bevvayle Hector. VVO. Our naked armes, thus here vve rent for thee, And bloudy ſhoulders, (Hector) thus vve teare: Thus vvith our fiſtes, our heades lo beaten bee And all for thee, behold vve hale our heare. Our dugges alas, vvith mothers hands be torne And vvhere the fleſh is vvounded round about VVhich for thy ſake, vve rent thy death to morne The flovving ſtreames of bloud, they ſpring thereout. Thy countres ſhore, and deſtinies delay. And thou to vvearied Troians vvaſt an ayde, A vvall thou vvaſt, and on thy ſhoulders Troy Ten yeres it ſtode, on thee alone it ſtaide, VVith thee it fell: and fatall day alas Of Hector both, and Troy but one there vvas. HEC. Enough hath Hector: turne yonr plaint and mone And ſhed your teares for Pryame euery chone. VVO. Receiue our plaintes, O lord of Phrigian land And old tvviſe captiue king, receiue our feare, VVhile thou vvert king. Troy hurtles then could ſtand Though ſhaken tvviſe, with Grecian ſword it weare, And twiſe did ſhot of Hercles quiuer beare, At latter loſſe of Hecubes ſonnes all And roges for kings, that hgih on piles we reare: Thou father ſhut ſtour lateſt funerall. And beaten downe, to Ioue for ſacrifies. Like liueles blocke, in Troy thy carkas lies. HEC. Yet turne ye once your teares, another way, My pryams death, ſhould not lamented be. O Troyans all, ful happy is Pryame ſay. For free from bondage, downe deſcended hee, To the loweſt Ghoſte: and neuer ſhall ſuſtayne His Captiue necke with Greekes to yoked bee. Hee neuer ſhal behold the Atrids twayne Nor falſe Vliſſes euer ſhal he ſee Not hee a pray for Greekes to triumph at His necke ſhall ſubiect to their conqueſtes beare Ne geue his handes to tye behynde his backe, That to the rule of Scepters wonted weare, Nor following Agamemnons chare, in bande Shall he bee pompe, to proude Mycenas land. WO. ¶Ful happy Pryame is, each one wee ſay That toke vvith him his Kingdome then that ſtoode Now ſafe in ſhade, he ſeekes the wandring way, And treads the pathes of all Elizius wood, And in the bleſſed Sprightes, ful happy hee, Agayne there ſeekes to meete with Hectors Ghoſt. Happy Pryam, happy whoſo may ſee, His Kingdome all, at once with him be loſt. Chorus added to the Tragedy by the Tranſlator. O Ye to whom the Lord of Lande and Seas, Of Life and Death hath graunted here the powre Lay dovvne your lofty lookes, your pride appeas The crovvned King fleeth not his fatall howre. Who ſo thou be that leadſt thy land alone, Thy life vvas limite from thy mothers vvombe, Not purple robe, not Glorious glittering throne, Ne crovvne of Gold redeemes thee from the tombe: A King he was that wayting for the vayle, Of him that ſlew the Minotaure in fight: Begilde with blacknes of the wonted ſaile In ſeas him ſonke, and of his name they hight. So he that wild, to vvin the golden ſpoyle And firſt vvith ſhip, by ſeas to ſeeke renovvne, In leſſer vvaue, at length to death gan boyle, And thus the daughters, brought their father dovvne: Whoſe ſ nges, the vvoodes hath dravven, and riuers held, And birdes to heare his notes, did theirs forſake, In peece meale throvvne, amid the Thracian field, Without returne hath ſought the Stigian lake. They ſit aboue that holde our life in line And vvhat vve ſuffer dovvne they fling from hie, No carke, no care, that euer may vntwine The thrids, that vvoued are aboue the ſkie, As vvitnes he that ſometyme King of Greece, Had Iaſon thought, in drenching ſeas to drovvne Who ſcapt both death and gaind the Golden fleece, Whom fates aduaunce, there may no povvre plucke dovvne The higheſt God ſomety me that Saturne hight His fall him taught to credite their decrees The rule of heauens: he loſt it by their might, And Ioue his ſonne novv turnes the rolling Skies. Who vveneth here to vvin eternall vvelth, Let him behold this preſent perfite proofe. And learne. the ſecrete ſtoppe of chaunces ſtelth, Moſt nere alas, vvhen moſt it ſeemes aloofe. In ſlipper ioy let no man put his truſt: Let none diſpayre that heauy haps hath paſt The ſvvete vvith ſovvre ſhe mingleth as ſhe luſt Whoſe doubtful web pretendeth nought to laſt. Frailtie is the thride, that Clothoes rocke hath ſponne, Novv from the Diſtaffe dravvne novv knapt in tvvaine With all the world at length his end he wonne, Whoſe works haue wrought, his name ſhould great remaine And he whoſe trauels twelue, his name diſplay, That feared nought the force of worldly hurt, In fine (alas) hath found his fatall daye, And died with ſmart of Dianyraes ſhurt, If prowes might eternity procure, Then Priam yet ſhould liue in lyking luſt, Ay portly pompe of pryde thou art vnſure, Lo learne by him. O Kinges yee are but duſt. And Hecuba that wayleth now in care, That was ſo late of high eſtate a Queene, A mirrour is to teach you what you are Your wauering wealth, O Princes here is ſeene. Whom dawne of day hath ſeene in high eſtate Before Sunnes ſet; (alas) hath had his fall The Cradels rocke, appoyntes the life his date From ſetled ioy, to ſodayne funerall.
THE SECOND ACTE.

The Spright of Achilles added to the tragedy by the Tranſlator.

The firſt Scene. FOrſaking now the places tenebrouſe, And deepe dennes of thinfernall region From all the ſhadowes of illuſious That wāder there the pathes ful many one Lo, here am I returned al alone, The ſame Achil whoſe fierce and heauy hande Of al the world no wight might yet withſtand. What man ſo ſtout of al the Grecians hoſt, That hath not ſometyme crau'd Achilles aide, And in the Troyans, who of prowes moſt That hath not feard to ſee my Banner ſplaide Achilles lo, hath made them all affrayde. And in the Greekes hath bene a piller poſt, That ſtvrdy ſtode agaynſt their Troyan hoſt. Where I haue lackt the Grecians went to wracke, Troy proued hath what Achills ſword could doe Where I haue come the Troyans fled a backe, Retyring faſt from field their walles vnto, No man that might Achilles ſtroke fordoe I dealt ſuch ſtripes amid the Troian route, That with their bloud I ſtaynd the fieldes aboute. Mighty Memnon that with his Perſian band, Would Pryams part with all might mayntayne, Lo now he lyeth and knoweth Achilles hand Amid the field is Troylus alſo ſlayne. Ye Hector great, whom Troy accompted playne The flowre of chiualry that might be found, All of Achilles had theyr mortall wound. But Paris lo, ſuch was his falſe deceipt, Pretending maryage of Polixeine, Behynd the aulter lay for me in wayte Where I vnwares haue falne into the trayne And in Appolloes church he hath me ſlayne Wherof the Hel will now iuſt vengeance haue, And here agayne, I come my right to craue. The deepe Auerne my rage may not ſuſtayne, Nor beare the angers of Achilles ſpright From Acheront I rent the ſpoyle in twayne, And though the ground I grate agayne to ſight: Hell could not hide Achilles from the light, Vengeance and bloud doth Orcus pit require, To quench the furies of Achilles yre. The hatefull land, that worſe then Tartare is And burning thruſt excedes of Tantalus, I here beholde againe, and Troy is this O, trauell worſe, then ſtone of Siſyphus And paines that paſſe the panges of Tityus To light more lothſome furie hath me ſent Then hooked wheele, that Ixions fleſh doth rent. Remembred is alowe where ſprites do dwell The wicked ſlaughter'wrought by wyly way Not yet reuenged hath the deepeſt hell, Achilles bloud on them that did him ſlay But now of vengeance come the yrefull day And darkeſt dennes of Tartare from beneath Conſpire the fautes, of them that wrought my death. Now miſchiefe, murder, wrath of hell draweth nere Aud dyre Phlegethon floud doth bloud require Achilles death ſhall he reuenged here VVith ſlaughter ſuch as Stygian lakes deſyre Her daughters bloud ſhal ſlake the ſpirites yre, VVhoſe ſonue we ſlew, whereof doth yet remayne, The wrath beneath, and hell ſhalbe their payne. From burning lakes the furies wrath I threate, And fire that nought but ſtreames of bloud may ſlake The rage of winde and ſeas their ſhippes ſhall beate, And Ditis deepe on you ſhall vengeance take, The ſpirites crie out, the earth and ſeas do quake The poole of Styx, vngratefull Greekes it ſeath, VVith ſlaughtred bloud reuenge Achilles death. The ſoyle doth ſhake to beare my heauy foote And fearth agayne the ſceptors of my hand, The pooles with ſtroake of thunderclap ring out, The doubtful ſtarres amid their courſe do ſtand, And fearfull Phoebus hides his blaſing brande The trembling lakes agaynſt their courſe do flite, For dread and terrour of Achilles ſpright. Great is the raunſome ought of due to mee, Wherwith ye muſt the ſprightes and hell appeaſe, Polyxena ſhal ſacrifyſed be, Vpon my tombe, their yreful wrath to pleaſe, And with her bloud ye ſhall aſſwage the ſeas Your ſhips may not returne to Greece agayne Til on my tombe Polyxena be ſlayne. And for that ſhe ſhould then haue bene my wyfe, I wil that Pyrrhus render her to mee, And in ſuch ſolemne ſort bereaue her life, As ye are wont the weddinges for to ſee, So ſhal the wrath of Hel appeaſed bee, Nought els but this may ſatiſfy our yre, Her wil I haue and her I you require.
THE SECOND SCENE. Talthibius Chorus. ALas how long the lingring Gre kes in hauen do make delay, When eyther warre by ſeas they ſeeke or home to paſſe theyr way. Ch. Why, ſhew what cauſe doth hold your ſhips? and Grecian nauy ſtayes, Declare if any of the Gods haue ſtopt your homeward wayes. Tal. My mynd is mai'd, my trembling ſinne wes quake and are affeard, For ſtraunger newes of truth then theſe I thinke were neuer heard. Lo I my ſelfe haue playnly ſeene in dawning of the day, When Phoebus firſt gan to approch and driue the ſtarres away. The earth all ſhaken ſodaynly and from the hollow grownde: My thought I hard with roaryng crye a deepe and dreadful ſound: That ſhoke the woods, and al the trees ong out with thunder ſtroke, From Ida hils downe fel the ſt kes, the mountayne oppes were broke. And not the earth hath onely quakt, but all the Sea likewyſe Achilles preſence felt and knew, and high the ſurges ryſe. The clouen ground Erebus pittes then ſhewd and deepeſt dennes, That downe to Gods that guyde beneath, the way appeard from hence. Then ſhoke the tombe from whence anone in flame of fiery light, Appeareth from the hollow ca es Achilles noble ſpright. As wonted he his Thracian armes and bannars to diſploy And weild his weighty weapons wel agaynſt thaſſaultes of Troy, The ſame Achilles ſeemde he than that he was wont to bee Amid the hoſtes and eaſ y could I know that this was hee. With carkaſſe ſlayne in furious fight, that ſtopt and fild each floude. And who with ſlaughter of his hand made Xanthus r •• ne with bloud, As when in Chariot high he ſate with lofty ſtomacke ſtoute. Whyle Hector both and Troy at once he drew the walles aboute. Alowd he cride, and euery coaſt rang with Achilles ſound, And thus with hollow voyce he ſpake, from bottom of the ground. The Greekes ſhal not with litle pryce redeeme Achilles yre, A princely raunſome muſt they geue, for ſo the fates require Vnto my aſhes Polyxene ſpouſed ſhal here be ſlayne By Pyrrhus hand, and al my tombe her bloud ſhal ouerſtayne. This ſayd, he ſtrayght ſanke downe agayne to Plutoes deepe region, The earth then cloaſd, the hollow caues were vaniſhed and gon Therwith the wether waxed clere, the raging wyndes did ſlake, The tombling ſeas began to reſt and al the tempeſt brake.
THE THIRD SCENE. Pyrrhus, Agamemnon, Calchas. WHat tyme our ſayles we ſhould haue ſpread, vppon Sygeon Seas, With ſwift returne from long delay, to ſeeke our homeward wayes. Achilles roſe whoſe onely hand, hath geuen Greekes the ſpoyle. Of Troia ſore annoyde by him, and leueld with the ſoyle, With ſpeede requiting his abode and former long delay At Scyros yle, and Leſbos both amid the Aegaeon ſea. Til he came here in doubt it ſtoode of fall or ſure eſtate, Then though ye haſt to graunt his wil ye ſhall it geue to late. Now haue the other captaynes all the pryce of their manhood, What els reward for his preweſſe then her al onely blood? A e his deſertes thinke you but light, that when he might haue fled, And paſſing Pelyus yeares in peace, a quiet life haue led, Detected yet his mothers craftes, forſooke his womans weede, And with his weapons prou'd himſelfe a manly man indeede: The King of Myſya, Telephus that woulde the Greekes withſtand, Comming to Troy, forbidding vs the paſſage of his land: To late repenting to haue felt. Achilles heauy ſtroke Was glad to craue his health agayne where he his hurt had tooke For when his ſore might not be ſalud as told Appollo playne. Except the ſpeare that gaue the hurte, reſtoared help agayne. Achilles plaſters cur'd his cuttes, and ſau'd the King aliue: His hand both might and mercy knew te ſlay and then reuyne. When Thebes fel. Eetion ſaw it and might it not withſtand, The captiue King could nought redreſſe the ruin of his land. Lyrneſus litle likewyſe felt his hand and downe it fill, With ruine ouerturned like from top of haughty hil. And taken Bryſeps land it is and priſoner is ſhe caught The cauſe of ſtrife betwene the Kinges is Chryſes come to naught. Tenedos yle wel knowne by fame and fertile ſoyle he tooke That foſtreth fat the Thracian flockes and ſacred Cilla ſhooke What bootes to blaſe the brute of him whom trumpe of fame doth ſhow, Through all the coaſtes where Caicus floud with ſwelling ſtream doth flow? The ruthful ruine of theſe realmes ſo many townes bet downe, Another man would glory count and worthy great renowne. But thus my father made his way and theſe his iourneyes are, And battayles many one he fought whylewarre he doth prepare. As wiſht I may his merits more ſhall yet not this remayne. Wel knowne and counted prayſe enough that he hath Hector ſlayne Duryng whoſe life the Grecians al might neuer take the towne, My father onely vanquiſt Troy, and you haue pluct it downe. Reioyce I may your parentes prayſe and brute abroade his actes, It ſeemeth the ſonne to follow well his noble fathers factts, In ſight of Priam Hector ſlayne, and. Memnon both they lay. With heauy theere his parentes wayld to moutne his dying day. Himſelfe abhord his handy worke in fight that had them ſlayne, The Sonnes of Goddes Achilles knew were borne to die agayne The woman queene of Amazons that greu'd the Greekes ful ſore. Is turnd to flight then ceaſt our feare wee dread their bowes no more. It ye wel waigh his worthynes Achilles ought to haue Though he from Argos or Mycenas would a Virgin craue, Doubt ye herein? allow ye not that ſtraight his wil be done. And count ye cruel Pryams bloud to geue to Peleus ſonne? For Helen ſake your owne childes bloud appeaſd Dianas yre A wonted thing and done ere this it is that I require. Ag. The onely fault of youth it is not to refraine his rage The Fathers bloud already ſturres in Pryams wanton age: Somtime Achilles grieuous checkes I bare with pacient hart, The more thou mayſt the more thou oughtſt to ſuffer in good part Wherto would yee with ſlaughtred bloud a noble ſpirit ſtayne? Thinke what is meete the Greekes to do, and Troyans to ſuſtayne. The proude eſtate of tyranny may neuer long endure. The King that rules with modeſt meane of ſafety may be ſure. The higher ſtep of princely ſtate that fortune hath vs ſignd The more behou'th a happy man humility of mynd And bread the chaunge that chaūce may bring, whoſe gifts ſo ſone be loſt And chiefly then to feare the Gods, whyle they the fauour moſt. In beating downe that warre hath wonne, by proofe I haue ben taught, What pompe and pride in twinke of eye, may fall and come to naught. Troy made me fierce & proude of mynde, Troy makes me frayd withal. The Grekes now ſtand wher Troy late fel, ech thing may haue his fal. Sometyme I graunt I did my ſelfe, and Sceptors proudly beare, The thing that might aduaunce my hart makes me the more to feare Thou Priam perfit proofe preſentſt thou art to mee eftſones: A cauſe of pride, a glaſſe of feare a mirrour for the nones, Should I accoumpt the ſceptors ought, but glorious vanity Much like the borowed brayded hayre, the face to beautify. One ſodayne chaunce may turne to naught, and mayme the might of men With fewer then a thouſand ſhippes, and yeares in leſſe then ten. Not ſhe that guydes the ſlipper wheele of fate, doth ſo delay: That ſhe to al poſſeſſion grauntes, of ten yeares ſetled ſtay. With leaue of Greece I wil confeſſe, I would haue wonne the towne But not with ruine thus extreme to ſee it beaten downe. But loe the battel made by night and rage of feruent mynd, Could not abyde the brydling bitte that reaſon had aſſignd. The happy ſword once ſlaind with blood vnſatiable is, And in the darke the ſeruent rage doth ſtrike thee more amis. Now are we wreakt on Troy ſo much let all that may remayne. A Virgin borne of Princes bloud for offring to be ſlayne And geuen be to ſlayne the tombe and aſhes of the ded, And vnder name of wedlocke ſee the guiltles bloud be ſhed, I wil not graunt for myne ſhould bee thereof both fault and blame. Who when he may, forbiddeth not offence: doth wil the ſame. Pyr. And ſhall his ſprights haue no reward their angers to appeyſe? Aga. Yes very great, for all the world ſhall celebrate his prayſe, And landes vnknowen that neuer ſaw, the man ſo prayſd by fame, Shall heate and kepe for many yeares the glory of his name. If bloudſhed vayle his aſhes ought ſtrike of an Oxes hed, And let no bloud that may be cauſe of mothers teares, be ſhed. What furious franſy may this be that doth your will ſo leade, This earneſt carefull ſutte to make in trauayle for the dead? Let not ſuch enuy towarde your father in your heart remayne, That for his ſacrifice yee would procure an others payne, Pyr. Proude tirant, while proſperity thy ſtomacke doth aduaunce, And cowardly wretch that ſhrinks for feare in caſe of fearefull chaunce. Is yet agayne thy breaſt enflamde, with brand of Venus might? Wilt thou alone ſo oft depriue Achilles of his right? This hand ſhall giue the ſacrifice, the which if thou withſtand. A greater ſlaughter ſhall I make, and worthy Pyrrhus hand. And now to long from Princes ſlaughter doth my hand abide, And meete it were that Polyxene were layde by Priams ſide. Aga. I not deny, but Pyrrhus chiefe renowne, in warre is this, That Pryam ſlaine with cruell ſworde, to your father humbled is. Pyr. My fathers foes we haue them known, ſubmit themſelues humbly, And Pryam preſently yee wot, was glad to craue mercy. But thou for feare not ſtout to rule, lieſt cloſe from foes vp ſhit: Whil thou to Aiax, and Vlyſſes, doſt thy will commit. Aga. But needes I muſt, and will confeſſe, your father did not feare: When burnt our fleete with Hectors brands, & Greeks they ſlaughtred weare. While loytring then a loofe he lay, vnmindfull of the fight. In ſteede of armes with ſcratch of quill, his ſounding harp to ſmight. Pyr. Great Hector then deſpiſing thee, Achilles ſonges did feare: And Theſſale ſhips in greateſt dread, in quiet peace yet weare. Aga. For why aloofe the Theſſale fleete, they lay from Troyans handes, And well your father might haue reſt, he felt not Hectors brandes. Pir. Well ſeemes a noble king to giue an other king reliefe. Aga. Why haſt thou then a worthy king berieued of his life? Pyr. A poinct of mercy ſometime is, what liues in care to kill. Aga. But now your mercy mooueth you a virgins death to will. Pyr. Account yee cruell now her death whoſe ſacrifice I craue. Your own deere daughter once yee knowe, your ſelfe to th'aulters gaue. Aga. Naught els could ſaue the Greekes frō ſeas, but th'only bloud of her: A king before his children ought, his countrey to prefer. Pyr. The law doth ſpare no captiues bloud nor wil'th their death to ſtay Aga. That which the law doth not forbid, yet ſhame doth oft ſay nay. Pyr. The conquerour what thing he liſt, may lawfully fulfill. Aga. So much the leſſe he ought to liſt, that may do what he will. PYR. Thus boaſt ye theſe as though in all ye onely bare the ſtroke When Pyrrhus looſed hath the greekes, from bond of ten yeres yoke. A. Hath Scyros yle ſuch ſtomaks bred? P. No bretherns wrath it knoes. AG. Beſet about it is with waue. PYR. The ſeas it do encloſe. Thyeſtes noble ſtocke I know and A reus eke full well, And of the bretherns dire debate, perpetuall fame doth tell. AG. And thou a beſtard of a may de, defloured priuely. Whom (then a boy) Achilles gat, in filthy lecherr. Pyr. The ſame A chill that doth poſſeſſe, the raigne of Gods aboue, With Therys ſeas: with Aeacus ſprights, the ſtarred heauen with Ioue Aga. The ſame Achilles that was ſlaine, by ſtroke of Par s hande. Pyr. The ſame Achilles, whom no god, durſt euer yet withſtand. Aga. The ſtouteſt man I rather would his checkes he ſhould refraine I could them tame but all your bragges, I can full well ſuſtaine. For euen the captiues ſpares my ſword: let Calchas called be. If deſtyntes require her bloud, I will thereto agree Calchas whoſe counſel rulde our ſhips, and nauy hither brought, Vnlookſt the poale and haſt by arte the ſecretes thereof ſought, To whome the bowelles of the beaſt, to whom the thunder clap, And blaſyng ſtarre with flaming traine, betokeneth what ſhall hap. Whoſe words with deareſt price I bought, now tell vs by what meane The will of Gods agreeth that we returne to Greece againe. Cal. The fates apoint the Grekes to buy their waies with wonted price. And with what coſt ye came to Troy, ye ſhal repayre to Greece With bloud ye came, with bloud ye muſt from hence returne againe, And where Achilles aſhes lieth, the virgin ſhal be ſlaine, In ſeemely ſort of habite, ſuch as maydens wont ye ſee, Of Theſſalie, or Mycenas els, what time they wedded be. With Pyrrhus hand ſhe ſhal be ſlaine, of right it ſhalbe ſo And meete it is that he the ſonne, his fathers right ſhould do. But not this onely ſtayeth our ſhippes, our ſayles may not be ſpred, Before a worthier bloud then thine, (Polixena) be ſhed, Which thirſt thirſt the fates, for Praimes nephew. Hectors litle boy: The Erekes ſhal tumble hedlonge down, from higheſt towre in Troy. Let him there die, this onely way ye ſhal the gods appeas, Then ſpread your thouſand ſayles with ioy ye neede not feare the ſeas. Chorus. MAy this be true, or doth the Fable fayne, When corps is deade the Sprite to liue as yet? When Death our eies with heauy hand doth ſtrain, And fatall day our leames of light hath ſhet, And in the Tombe our aſhes once be ſet, Hath not the ſoule likewyſe his funerall, But ſtil (alas) do wretches liue in thrall? Or els doth all at once togeather die? And may no part his fatal howre delay. But with the breath the ſoule from hence doth flie? And eke the Cloudes to vaniſh quite awaye, As danky ſhade fleeth from the poale by day? And may no iote eſcape from deſteny, When once the brand hath burned the body? What euer then the ryſe of Sunne may ſee, And what the Weſt that ſets the Sunne doth know. In all Neptunus raygne what euer bee, That reſtles Seas do waſh and ouerflow, With purple waues ſtil tombling to and fro. Age ſhal conſume: each thing that liuth ſhal die, With ſwifter race then Pegaſus doth flie. And with what whirle, the twyſe ſixe ſignes do flie, With courſe as ſvvift as rector of the Spheares, Doth guide thoſe gliſtering Globes eternally. And Hecate her chaunged hornes repeares, So drauth on death, and life of each thing vveares, And neuer may the man, returne to ſight, That once hath felt the ſtroke of Parcas might. For as the fume that from the fyre doth paſſe, With tourne of hand doth vaniſh out of ſight And ſwifter then the Northren Boreas With whirling blaſte and ſtorme of raging might, Driuth farre away and puttes the cloudes to flight, So fleeth the ſprighte that rules our life away, And nothing taryeth after dying day. Swift is the race we ronne, at hand the marke Lay downe your hope, that wayte here ought to win, And who dreads ought, caſt of thy carefull carke: Wilt thou it wot what ſtate thou ſhalt be in, When dead thou art as thou hadſt neuer bin. For greedy tyme it doth deuoure vs all, The world it ſwayes to Chaos heape to fall. Death hurtes the Corpes and ſpareth not the ſpright, And as for all the dennes of Taenare deeepe. With Cerberus kingdome darke that knowes no light, And ſtreighteſt gates, that he there ſittes to keepe, They Fancies are that follow folke by ſleepe Such rumors vayne, but fayned lies they are, And fables like the dreames in heauy care. Theſe three ſtaues following are added by the tranſlatour. O dreadful day, alas, the ſory time Is come of al the mothers ruthful woe, Aſtianax (alas) thy fatal line Of life is worne, to death ſtrayght ſhalt thou goe, The ſiſters haue decreed it ſhould be ſo, There may no force (alas) eſcape there hand, There mighty loue their will may not withſtand, To ſe the mother, her tender child forſake, What gentle hart that may from teares refrayne Or whoſo fierce that would no pity take, To ſee (alas) this guiltles infant ſlayne, For ſory hart the teares myne eyes do ſtayne To thinke what ſorrow ſhall her hart oppreſſe, Her litle child to leeſe remedileſſe, The double cares of Hectors wife to wayle, Good Ladies haue your teares in readines. And you with whom ſhould pity moſt preuayle. Rue on her griefe: bewayle her heauines. With ſobbing hart, lament her deepe diſtreſſe, When ſhe with teares ſhall take leaue of her ſon, And now (good Ladies) heare what ſhall be done.
THE THIRD ACTE. Andromacha. Senex. Vliſſes. ALas ye careful company why hale ye thus your hayres? Why beate you ſo your boyling breaſts and ſtayne your eyes with teare? The fall of Troy is new to you but vnto me not ſo, I haue foreſeene this careful caſe ere this tyme long agoe When fierce Achilles Hector ſlew and drew the Corpes aboute Then then me thought I wiſt it well, that Troy ſhould come to naught In ſorrowes ſonke I ſenceles am and wrapt (alas) in woe, But ſone except this babe me held, to Hector would I goe This ſeely foole my ſtomacke tames amid my miſery, And in the howre of heauieſt happes permittes me not to die, This onely cauſe conſtraynes me yet the gods for him to pray With tract of tyme prolonges my payne, delayes my dying day: He takes from me the lacke of feare the onely fruit of ill. For while he liues yet haue I left wherof to feare me ſtill. No place is left for better chaunce with worſt wee are oppreſt To feare (alas) and ſee no hope is worſt of all the reſt. Sen. What ſodayne feare thus moues your mynd, & vexeth you ſo ſore? And. Stil ſtil (alas) of one miſhap there ryſeth more and more, Nor yet the doleful deſtenies of Troy be come to end. Sen. And what more grieuous chaunces yet prepare the Gods to ſend? Andr. The caues and dennes of hel be rent for Troyans greater feare And from the bottoms of their tombes the hidden ſprightes appeare. May none but Greekes alone from hel returne to life agayne? Would God the fates would finiſh ſoone the ſorrowes I ſuſtayne. Death thankful were, a common care the Troyans all oppreſſe, But me (alas) amaſeth moſt the feareful heauines. That all aſtonied am for dreade, and horrour of the ſight: That in my ſleepe appeard to mee by dreame this latter night. Sen. Declare what ſightes your dream hath ſhewd, & tell what doth you feare And. Two parts of al the ſilent night almoſt then paſſed were. And then the cleare ſeuen cluſtered beams of ſtarres: were falle to reſt And firſt the ſleepe ſo long vnknowne my wearyed eyes oppreſt. If this be ſleepe the aſtonied ma e of mynd in heauy moode, When ſodaynly before myne eyes the ſpright of Hector ſtoode. Not like as he the Greekes was wont to battail to require: Or when amid the Grecians ſhippes, he threw the brandes of fyre. Nor ſuch as raging on the Grees, with ſlaughtring ſtroake had ſlayne And bare indeede the ſpoyles of him that did Achilles fayne. His countenaunce not now ſo bright, nor of ſo liuely cheere, But ſad and heauy like to owres and clad with vgly hayre It did me good to ſee him though when ſhaking then his head: Shake of thy ſleepe in haſt he ſayd, and quickly leaue thy bed: Conuay into ſome ſecrete place our ſonne (O faythful wife) This onely hope there is to helpe find meane to ſaue his life. Leaue of thy piteous tears he ſayd, doſt thou yet wayle for Troy? Would God it lay on Ground ful flat ſo ye might ſaue the boy. Vp ſtirre he ſayd thy ſelfe in haſt conuay him priuily. Saue if ye may the tender bloud of Hectors progeny Then ſtrayght in trembling feare I wakt and rold myne eyes aboute Forgettyng long my child pore wretch, and after Hector ſought. But ſtrayght (alas) I wiſt not how the Spright away did paſſe, And mee forſooke before I could my huſband once embraſſe. O childe, O noble fathers broode and Troians only ioy, O worthy ſeede of thauncient bloud, and beaten houſe of Troy. O ymage of thy father loe, thou liuely bearſt his face, This countnaunce lo my Hector had, and euen ſuch was his pace. The pitch of all his body ſuch, his handes thus would he beare. His ſhoulders high his threatning browes euen ſuch as thine they were O ſonne: begot to late for Troy, but borne to ſoone for mee, Shal euer tyme yet come agayne, and happy daye may be, That thou mayſt once reuenge and build agayne the towres of Troy, And to the towne and Troyans both reſtore their name with ioy? But why do I (forgettyng ſtate of preſent deſtenye), So great thinges wiſh? enough for captiues is to liue only: Alas what priuy place is left my litle childe to hide? What ſeate ſo ſecret may be found where thou maiſt ſafely bide? The towre that with the walles of go s ſo valiaunt was of might, Through all the world ſo notable, ſo flouriſhing to ſight, Is turnde to duſt: and fire hath al conſumd'e that was in Troy, Of all the towne not ſo much now is left to hide the boy. What place were beſt to chooſe for guile, the holy tombe is heere, That then mies ſword will ſpare to ſpoile wher ſythe my huſband deere. Which coſtly worke his father builte, king Pryame liberall: And it vp raiſde with charges great, fo Hectors funerall. Herein the bones and aſhes both of Hector (loe) they lie, Beſt is that I commit the ſonne to his fathers cuſtodie. A colde and fearefull ſweat doth runne, through o t my members all, Alas I carefull wretch do feare, what chaunce may thee befall, Sen. Hide him away: this onely way hath ſaued many more, To make the enmies to beleue, that they were dead before. He wil be ſought: ſcant any hope remaineth of ſafenes, The paiſe of his nobility doth him ſo ſore oppres: Andr. What way wer beſt to worke: that none our doings might bewray Sen. Let none beare witnes what ye do remoue them all away. Andr. What if the enmies aſke me: where Aſtianax both remaine? Sen. Then ſhall y boldelie anſwere make that he in Troy was ſlaine. Andr. What ſhal it helpe to haue him hid? at length they will him finde. Sen. At firſt the enmies rage is fierce, delay doth ſlake his minde. Andr. But what preuailes, ſince free from feare we may him neuer hide? Sen. Let yet the wretch take his defence, me careleſſe there to bide. And. What land vnknowne out of the way what vnfrequented place May keepe thee ſafe? who ayds our feare? who ſhall defend our caſe? Hector, Hector that euermore thy friendes didſt wel defend Now chiefly ayde thy wyfe and child and vs ſome ſuccour ſend. Take charge to keepe and couer cloſe the treaſures of thy wyfe, And in thy Aſhes hyde thy ſonne preſerue in tombe his life. Draw neare my Childe vnto the Tombe, why flieſt thou backward ſo? Thou takſt great ſcorne to lurke in dens thy noble hart I know. I ſee thou art aſham'd to feare ſhake of thy princely mynd, And beare thy breaſt as thee behoues as chaunce hath thee aſſynd. Behold our caſe: and ſe what flocke remayneth now of Troy The tombe: I woeful captiue wretch and thou a ſeely boy, But yeeld we muſt to ſory fates thy chaunce muſt breake thy breaſt, Go to, creepe vnderneath thy fathers holy ſeats to reſt. If ought the fates may wretches helpe thou haſt thy ſauegard there, If not: already then pore foole thou haſt thy ſepulchere. Sen. The tombe him cloſely hides: but leaſt your feare ſhould him betray Let him here lie and farre from hence goe ye ſome other way. Andr. The leſſe he feares that feares at hand, and yet if neede be ſo, If ye thinke meete a litle hence for ſafety let vs goe. Sen. A litle whyle keepe ſilence now refrayne your plaint and crie, His curſed foote now hether moues the Lord of Cephalie. And, Now open earth, and thou my ſpouſe frō Stix rend vp y ground, Deepe in thy boſome hyde thy ſonne that he may not be found. Vlyſſes comes with doubtful pace and chaunged countenaunce He knittes in hart decetptful craft for ſome more grieuous chaunce. VI. Though I be made the meſſenger of heauy newes to you, This one thing firſt I ſhal deſyre that ye take this for true. That though the wordes come from my mouth, and I my meſſuage tell Of truth yet are they none of myne ye may beleue me wel. It is the word of al the Greekes, and they the authors be, Whome Hectors bloud doth yet forbid their countries for to ſee. Our careful truſt of peace vnſure doth ſtil the Greekes detayne, And euermore our doubtful feare yet drawth vs backe agayne. And ſuffreth not our wearyed handes, our weapons to forſake, In child yet of Andromacha, while Troyans comfort take. An. And ſayth your Augure Calchas ſo? Vli. Though Calchas nothing sayde Yet Hector telles it vs himſelfe, of whoſe ſeede are we frayde. The worthy bloud of noble men oft tymes we ſe it playne, Doth after in their heires ſuccede and quickly ſpringes agayne. For so the hornles youngling yet, of high and ſturdy b ſte, With lofty necke and braunched brow, doth ſhortly rule the reſt. The tender twig that of the lopped ſtocke doth yet remayne, To match the tree that bare the bough, in time startes vp again With equall top to former wood the roume it doth ſupply, And ſpreads on ſoyle alow the ſhade, to heauen his braunches hye. Thus of one ſparke by chaunce yet left it hapneth ſo ful oft. The fyre hath quickly caught his force and flamth agayn aloft. So ſcare we yet leaſt Hectors bloud might riſe er it be long, Feare caſtes in all thextremity and oft interprets wrong. If ye reſpect our caſe ye may not blame theſe old ſoldiars Though after years and monthes twice flue, they feare again the wars. And other trauails dreadyng Troy, not yet to be wel wonne, A great thing doth the Grecyans moue, the feare of Hectors ſon. Rid vs of feare, this ſtayeth our fleete, and pluckes vs backe agayne, And in the hauen our nauy ſtickes, til Hectors bloud be ſlayne. Count me not feerce for that by fates I Hectors ſonne require, For I as wel if chaunce it would Oreſtes ſhould deſyre. But ſince that needes it muſt be ſo, beare it with pacient hart: And Suffer that which Agamemnon ſuffred in good part. And. Alas my child would God thou wert yet in thy mothers hand. And that I knew what deſtentes thee held or in what land. For neuer ſhould the mothers fayth her tender child forſake: Though through my breaſt the enmies al, their cruell weapons ſtrake. Nor though the Greekes with pinching bandes of yron my handes had bound, Or els in feruent flame of fyre beſet my body rounde. But now my litle Child (pore wretch alas) where might he bee? Alas, what cruel deſteny what chaunce hath hapt to thee? Art thou yet ranging in the fieldes and wandreſt ther abroad? Or ſmothred elſe in duſty ſmoake of Troy: or ouertroad? Or haue the Greekes thee ſlayne (alas) and laught to ſee thy bloud? Or torne art thou with iawes of beaſtes? or caſt to foules for foode? VI. Diſſemble not, hard is for thee Vliſſes to deceaue, I can ful wel the mothers craftes and ſubtilty perceaue. The pollecy of Goddeſſes Vliſſes hath vndone. Set al theſe fayned wordes aſſyde, tel mee where is thy ſonne? An. Wher is Hector? where al the reſt that had with Troy their fall Where Priamus? you aſke for one but I require of all. Vl. Thou ſhalt conſtrayned be to tell the thing thou doſt deny. And. A happy chaunce were Death to her that doth deſyre to dye. Vli. Who moſt deſtres to die, would fayneſt liue when death drawth on, Theſe noble wordes with preſent feare of death woulde ſoone be gone. And. Vliſſes if ye wil conſtrayne Andromacha with feare, Threaten my life for now to dye my cheefe deſyre it were. Vl. With ſtripes with fyre tormenting death we wil the truth out wreſt And dolour ſhal thee force to tel the ſecrets of thy breſt. And what thy hart hath depeſt hid for payne thou ſhalt expreſſe, Oft tymes thextremity preuayles much more then gentleneſſe, And. Set me in midſt of burning flame with woundes my body rent, Vſe al the meanes of cruelty that ye may al inuent. Proue me with thirſt and hunger both, and euery torment trye, Pearce through my ſides with burning yrons in priſon let me lie. Spare not the worſt ye can deuyſe (if ought be worſe then this) Yet neuer get ye more of me. I wot not where he is. Vli. It is but vayne to hyde the thinge that ſtrayght ye wil deteckt No feares may moue the mothers hart, ſhe doth them al neglect. This tender loue ye beare your child, wherin ye ſtand ſo ſtoute, So much more circumſpectly warnth, the Greekes to looke about. Leaſt after ten yeares tract of tyme and battell borne ſo farre, Some one ſhould liue that on our children might renew the warre, As for my ſelfe, what Calchas ſayth, I would not feare at all But on Telemachus I dread, the ſmart of warres would fall And. Now will I make Vliſſes glad and all the Greekes alſo, Needes muſt thou woeful wretch confeſſe declare thy hidden woe. Reioyce ye ſonnes of Atreus there is no cauſe of dread. Be glad Vliſſes tell the Greekes that Hectors ſonne is dead. Vl. By what aſſurance proues thou that? how ſhal we credite thee: An . What euer thing the enmies hand may th ea en hap to me Let ſpeedy fates me ſlay forthwith, and earth me hyde at ones And after death from tombe agayne, remoue ye: Hectors bones, Except my ſonne already now, do reſt among the dead. And that except Aſtianax into his tomb be led. Vliſſ. Then fully are the fates fulfild with Hectors childes diſceace. Now ſhal I beare the Grecians word, of ſure and certayne peace. Vliſſes why what doſt thou now the Greekes wil euery chone, Beleeue thy wordes, whom creditſt thou? the mothers tale alone. Thinkſt thou for ſauegard of her child the mother wil not lye? And dread the more the worſe miſchaunce to geue her ſonne to die? Her fayth ſhe byndes with bond of oth, the truth to verify, What thing is more of weight to feare, then ſo to ſweare and lye? Now call thy craftes togeather al, beſtirre thy wittes and mynd, And ſhew thy ſelfe Vliſſes now, the truth herein to find. Search wel thy mothers mynd: behold ſhee weepes and wayleth out, And here and ther with doubtful pace, ſhe raungeth al aboute, Her careful ears ſhe doth apply to harken what I ſay, More frayd ſhee ſeemes then ſorrowful. Now worke ſome wily way. For now moſt neede of wit there is and crafty pollecy, Yet on e agayne by other meanes I wil the mother trye. Thou wretched woman maiſt reioyce, that dead he is: (alas) More doleful death by deſtenie for him decreed ther was. From Turrets top to haue bene caſt and cruelly bene ſlayne. Which onely towre of all the reſt doth yet in Troy remayne. And. My ſpright failth me, my limmes do quake, fear doth my wits cō founde And as the Iſe congeals with froſt, my bloud with could is bound. Vl. She trēbleth loe: this way, this way I wil the truth out wreaſte, The mothers fear detecteth all the ſecrets of her breaſt: I wil renew her feare goe ſirs beſtir ye ſpedely To ſeeke this enmye of the Greekes where euer that he lie. Wel done he wil be found at length, goe to ſtil ſeke him out, Now ſhal he dye. what doſt thou feare why doſt thou looke about? And Would God that any cauſe there were yet left that might me fray, My hart at laſt now all is loſt hath layd all feare away. Vliſſ. Sins that your child now hath ye ſay already ſuffred death, And with his bloud we may not purge the hoſtes as Caſchas ſayth. Our fleete paſſe not (as wel inſpired doth Calchas prophecy) Till Hectors aſhes caſt abroad the waues may pacify. And tombe be rent now ſins the boy hath ſkapt his deſteny. Needes muſt we breake this holy tombe wher Hectors aſhes lie. An. What ſhal I do •• y mynd diſtracted is with double feare. On thone my ſonne, on thother ſyde my huſbandes aſhes deare, Alas which part ſhould moue me moſt, the cruel Goddes I call To witnes with me in the truth, and Ghoſtes that guide thee all Hector that nothing in my ſonne is elſe that pleaſeth me. But thou alone God graunt him life he might reſemble thee: Shal Hectors aſhes drowned bee hide I ſuch cruelty, To ſee his bones caſt in the Seas? yet let Aſtyanax die, And canſt thou wretched mother bide, thyne owne childes death to ſee? And ſuffer from the hie towres top that headlong throwne he be? I can and wil take in goad part, his death and cruel payne, So that my Hector after death be not remou'd agayne. The boy that life and ſences hath may feele his payne and dye, But Hector lo his death hath plaſt at reſt in tombe to lie What doſt thou ſtay? determine which thou w lt preſerue of twayne. Art thou in doubt? saue this: oe here thy Hector doth remayne, Both Hectors be, thone quicke of ſpright & drawing toward his ſtrēgth And one that may perhaps reuenge his fathers death at length. Alas I cannot ſaue them both: I thinke that beſt it were, That of the twayne I ſaued him that doth the Grecians feare. Vl. It ſhalbe done that Calchas words to vs doth prophecye, And now ſhal all the ſumptuous worke be throwne downe vtterly An That once ye ſold? Vl. I wil it all from toppe to bottome rend. An. The fayth of Goddes I call vppon Achilles vs defend, And Pyrrhus ayd thy fathers right. Vl. This tombe abroad ſhall lye: An. O miſchiefe, neuer durſt the Greekes ſhow yet ſuch cruelty. Ye ſtraine the temples and the Gods that moſt haue fauourd you, The dead ye ſpare not, on their tombes your fury rageth now. I wil their weapons all reſiſt my ſelfe with naked hand, The yre of hart ſhal geue me ſtrength their armour to withſtand. As fierce as did the Amazones beate down the Greekes in fight, And Menas once enſpierd with God, in ſacrifyce doth ſmyght, With ſpeare in hand, and while with furyous pace ſhe treads the groūd And wood as one in rage ſhe ſtrykes, and feeleth not the wound: So wil I runne on midſt of them and on theyr weapons dye, And in defence of Hectors tombe among his aſhes lie. Vl. Ceaſe ye: doth rage and fury vayne of women moue ye ought? Diſpatch with ſpeede what I commaund, & plucke downe al to naught. An. O ſlay me rather here with ſword rid me out the way, Breake vp the deepe Auern, and rid my deſtenies delay. Riſe Hector and beſet thy foes, breake thou Vliſſes yre, A ſpright art good enough for him, behold he caſteth fire. And weapon ſhakes with mighty hand do ye not Greekes him ſee? Or els doth Hectors ſpright appear but onely vnto me Vl. Downe quight withal. An. What wilt thou ſuffer both thy ſonnes be ſlayne, And after death thy huſbandes bones to be remou'd agayne? Perhaps thou mayſt with prayer yet apreaſe the Grecians all. Els downe to ground the holy tombe of Hector, ſtreight ſhall fal. Let rather die the childe pore wretch and let the Greekes him kil, Then father and the ſonne ſhould cauſe the tone the others yll. Vlliſſes, at thy knees I fal, and hm bly aſke mercie, Theſe handes that no mans feete els knew, firſt at thy feete they lye. Take pitty on the mothers caſe and ſorrowes of my breaſt, Vochſafe my prayers to receiue and graunt me my requeſt. And by how much the more the Goddes haue thee aduaunced hie, More eaſely ſtryke the pore eſtate of wretched miſery. God graunt the chaſt bed of thy godly wyfe Penelope, May thee receiue and ſo agayne Laerta may thee ſee, And that thy ſonne Telemachus may meete thee ioyfully. His graundſtres y ares, a d fathers witte, to paſſe ful happely. Take ptty on the mothers teares, her litle child to ſaue, He is my onely comfort left, and th'onely to I haue. Vl. ¶Bryng forth thy ſonne and aſke.
THE SECOND SCENE. Andromacha, COme hither child out of the dennes to mee, Thy wretched mothers lamentable ſtore, This Babe Vliſſes (loe) this Babe is hee. That ſtayeth your ſhips and feareth you ſo ſore. Submit thy ſelfe my ſonne with humble hand, And worſhip flat on ground thy mayſters feete, Thinke it no ſhame as now the caſe doth ſtand: The thing that Fortune wilth a wretche is meete, Forget thy worthy ſtocke of Kingly kynd, Thinke not on Priams great nobility, And put thy father Hector from thy mynde, Such as thy Fortune let thy ſtomacke bee, Behaue thy ſelfe as captiue bend thy Knee, And though thy griefe pearce not thy tender yeares, Yet learne to wa le thy wretched ſtate by mee, And take enſample at thy mothers teares. Once Troy hath ſeene the weeping of a child, When litle Priam turnde Alcides threats, And he to whom all beaſtes in ſtrength did yelde, That made his way from hel, and brake their gates His litle enmies teares yet ouercame, Priam he ſayd receiue thy liberty, In ſeat of honor kepe thy Kingly name, But yet thy Sceptors rule more faythfully. Lo ſuch the conqueſt was of Hercules. Of him yet learne your hartes to mollify, Do onely Hercles cruel weapons pleaſe, And may no end be of your cruelty? No leſſe then Pryam, kneeles to thee this boy, That lieth and aſketh onely life of thee. As for the rule and gouernaunce of Troy Where euer ortune wil ther let i bee. Take mercy on the mothers ruthful teares That with their ſtreames my cheekes do ouerflow, And ſpare this guiltles inſantes tender yeares That humbly falleth at thy feete ſo lowe.
THE THIRD SCENE. Vliſſes, Andromacha, Aſtianax, OF truth the mothers greate ſorow, doth moue my hart full ſore. But yet the mothers of the Greekes, of neede muſt moue me more, To whom t ts boy may cauſe in time a great calamtie. Andr. May euer he the burnt ruines of Troy reedifie? And ſhall theſe handes in time to come, ereckt the towne againe? If this be th onely helpe we haue, there doth no hope remain For Troy, we ſtand not now in caſe to cauſe your feare of mynde, Doth ought auayle his fathers force, or ſtocke of noble kinde? His fathers heart abated was, he drawen the walles abought. Thus euil haps, the haughtteſt heart at lengh they bring to nought, If ye wil needes oppreſſe a wretch what thing more grieuous were Then on his noble neck he ſhould the yoke of bondage bere? To ſerue in life doth any man this to a King denye? Vl. Not Vliſſes with his death, but Calchas prophecy. An. O falſe inuentor of deceipt and hainous cruelty, By manhode of whoſe hand in warre no man did euer dye. But by diſceipt and crafty trayne of mynd that miſchiefe ſeekes, Before this tyme ful many one dead is, yea of the Greekes, The Prophets wordes and guilties Gods ſaiſt thou my ſonne require, Nay: miſchiefe of thy breaſt it is, thou doſt his death deſyre. Thou night ſouldier, and ſtout of hart a litle child to ſtay. This enterpriſe thou takſte alone and that by open day. Vl. Vliſſes manhood wel to Greekes to much to you is knowne, I may not ſpend the tyme in wordes, our Nauy wil be gone And. A little ſtay, while I my laſt farewel geue to my child, And haue with oft embracing him my greedy ſorrowes fild. Vli. Thy grieuous ſorrowes to redreſſe, would God it lay in mee, But at thy wil to take delay of tyme I graunt it thee. Now take thy laſt leaue of thy Sonne, and fil thy ſelfe with teares. Oft tymes the weeping of the eyes, the inward griefe out weakes. An. O deere, O ſweete, thy mothers pledge, farewel my onely ioy, Farewel the flowre of honor left of beaten howſe of Troy. O Troyans laſt calamity and feare to Grecians part Farewel thy mothers onely hope, and vayne comfort of hart. Oft wiſh I thee thy fathers ſtrength and halfe thy graundſtres yeares But all for naught the Gods haue all diſpoynted our deſires. Thou neuer ſhalt in regal court thy ſceptors take in hand, Nor to thy people geue decrees nor leade with law thy land. Nor yet thine enmies ouercome by might of handy ſtroke. Nor ſende the conquerde nations all vnder thy ſeruile yoke. Thou neuer ſhalt beat downe in fight, and Greekes with ſword purſew, Nor at thy Charyot Pyrrhus plucke, as Achill Hector drew And neuer ſhal theſe tender handes thy weapons weild and wreſt, Thou neuer ſhalt in woods purſue the wyld and mighty beaſt. Nor as accustom'd is by guyſe and ſacrifice in Troy, With meaſure ſwift: betweene the aulters ſhalt thou daunce with ioy. O grieuous kind of cruel death that doth remayne for thee, More woeful thinges then Hectors death the walles of Troy ſhall ſee. Vliſſ. Now breake of al thy mothers tears I may no more tyme ſpende. The grieuous ſorrowes of thy hart will neuer make an end. An. Vliſſes ſpare as yet my teares and graunt awhyle delay, To cloſe his eyes yet with my handes er he depart away. Thou dieſt but young: yet feard thou art thy Troy doth wayte for thee, Goe noble hart thou ſhalt agayne the noble Troyans ſee. Aſti. Helpe me mother? An. Alas my child why tak'ſt thou holde by me? In vayne thou calſt where helpe none is I can not ſuccour thee. As when the little tender beaſt that heares the Lyon crye, Straight for defence he ſeekes his damme, & crouching downe doth lye, The cruel beaſt when once remoued is the damme away, In greedy aw with rauening bit doth ſnatch the tender pray So ſtrayght the enmies wil thee take, and from my ſide thee beare. Receiue my kiſſe and teares pore childe, receiue my rented hayre. Depart thou hence now ful of mee, and to thy father goe, Salute my Hector in my name and tel him of my woe Complayne thy mothers griefe to him if former 〈◊〉 may moue, The ſprightes: and that in funerall flame they leeſe not all their loue. O cruel Hector ſuffreſt thou thy wyfe to be oppreſt? With bond of Grecians heauy yoke and lieſt thou ſtill at reſt? Achilles roſe: take here agayne my teares and rented heare, And (al that I haue left to ſend) this kiſſe thy father beare. Thy coat yet for my comfort leaue, the tomb hath touched it If of his aſhes aught here lye Ile ſeeke it euery whit. Vl. There is no meaſure of thy teares I may no lenger ſtay, Deferre no further our returne breake of our ſhippes delay. Chorus altered by the tranſlatour. O Ioue that leadſt the lampes of fire, and deckſt vvith flaming ſtarres the ſkye. VVhy is it euer thy deſyre ro care their courſe ſo orderly? That novve the froſt the leaues hath vvorn & novv the ſprīg doth cloſe the tree. Novv fiery Leo rypes the corne, and ſtil the ſoyle ſhould chaunged be? But vvhy art thou that all doſt guide, betvvene vvhoſe hands the poale doth ſvvay, And at vvhoſe vvil the Orbs do ſlyde, careles of mans eſtate alvvay? Regarding not the goodmans caſe, nor caryng hovv to hurt the yll. Chaunce beareth rule in euery place and turneth mans eſtate at vvill. She geues the vvronge the vpper hand the better part ſhe doth oppreſſe, She makes the higheſt lovv to ſtand, her Kingdome all is orderleſſe. O parfite profe of her frailty, the princely tovvres of Troybeat dovvne, The flovvre of Aſia here ye ſee vvith turne of hand quight ouerthrovvne. The ruthful ende of Hectors ſon, vvhō to his death the Greekes haue led, His fatall hovvre is come and gone, and by this tyme the Child is ded: Yet ſtil (alas) more cares encreaſe, O Troyans doleful deſtenie, Faſt doth approach the maydes deceaſe, and novv Polixena ſhall die.
THE FOVRTH ACTE. Helena, Andromacha, Hecuba WHat euer woeful wedding yet, were cauſe of funerall, Of wayling, teares, bloud, ſlaughter els or other miſchiefes all, A worthy watch for Helena, and meete for me it ware, My wedding torch hath bene the cauſe of al The Troyans care. I am conſtraynd to hurt them yet, after their ouerthrow, The falſe and fayned mariages of Pyrrhus muſt I ſhowe. And geue the mayde the Greekes attyre and by my pollecy: Shal Paris ſiſter be betrayd and by diſceypt ſhal die. But let her be beguiled thus, the leſſe ſhould be her payne If that vnware without the feare of death: ſhe might be ſlayne. What ceaſeſt thou the wil of Greekes, and meſſuage to fulfill? Of hurt conſtraynd the fault returnth to th'auter of the ill. O noble Virgin of the famous houſe and ſtocke of Troy, To thee the Grecians haue me ſent I bring thee newes of ioy, The Gods rue on thy afflicted ſtate more merciful they bee, A greate and happy maryage loe, they haue prepard for thee. Thou neuer ſhould if Troy had ſtoode, ſo nobly wedded be, Nor Priam neuer could prefer thee to ſo hie degree. Whom flowre of all the Grecians name the prince of honour hie, That beares the Scepters ouer all, the lande of Theſſaly Doth in the law of wedlocke choſe, and for his wyſe require. To ſacred rightes of lawfu bed, doth Pyrrhus thee deſyre: Loe Thetis great with al the reſt, of Gods that guide by ſea. Each one ſhall thee accompt as theirs and toy by wedding day. And Peleus ſhall thee daughter call when thou art Pirrhus wyfe, And Nereus ſhall accompt thee his the ſpace of all thy life. Put of thy monrning garment now, this regall veſture weare Fogret henceforth thy captiue ſtate and ſeemly broyd thy hayre. The fall hath lift thee higher vp, and doth thee more aduaunce Oft to be taken in the warre doth bring the better chaunce An. This ill the Troyans neuer knew in all their griefs and payne Before this tyme ye neuer made vs to reioyce in vayne. Troy towres geue light, O ſeemely tyme for mariage to be made, Who would refuſe the wedding day that Helayne doth perſwade? The Plague and ruine of each parte behold doſt thou not ſee, Theſe tombes of noble men, and how their bones here ſcattered bee? Thy brydebed hath bene cauſe of this for thee all theſe be ded For thee the bloud of Asia both and Europe hath bene ſhed. When thou in ioy and pleaſure both the fighting folke from farre, Haſt viewde: in doubt to whom to wiſh the glory of the warre. Goe to, prepare the martages, what neede the Torches light? Behold the Towres of Troy do ſhine with brands that blaſe ful bright. O Troyans all ſet to your handes, this wedlocke celebrate: Lament this day with woeful cry and teares in ſeemly rate. el. Though care do cauſe the want of wit, and reaſons rule denye, And heauy hap doth ofttymes hate his mates in miſery Yet I before moſt hateful iudge dare wel defend my part, That I of all your greuous cares ſuſtayne the greateſt ſmart. Andromacha for Hector weepes, for Priam Hecuba, For onely Paris priuily bewayleth Helena. A hard and grieuous thing it is captiuity to beare, In Troy that yoke I ſuffred long a priſoner whole ten yeare. Turnd are the fates, Troy beaten downe, to Greece I muſt repeare, The natiue countrey to haue loſt is ill, but worſe to feare. For dread therof you neede not care your euilles all be paſt, On me both partes wil vengeance take al lightes to me at laſt. Whom each man priſoner takes God wot ſhee ſtandes in ſlipper ſtay, And me not captiue made by lot yet Paris led away. I haue bene cauſe of all theſe wars, and then your woes were wrought, When firſt your ſhippes the Spartayn Seas & land of Grecia ſought. But if the Goddeſſe wild it ſo that I their pray ſhould be, And for reward to her beautyes iudge ſhee had appoynted me, Then pardon Paris: thinke this thing in wrathful iudge doth lie, The ſentence Menelaus geues, and he this caſe ſhall trye. Now turne thy playntes Andromacha, and weepe for Polyxeyne Mine eyes for ſorrowes of my hart theyr teares may not refrayne. An. Alas, what care makes Heleyn weepe? what griefe doth ſhe lament? Declare what craftes Vliſſes caſtes, what miſchiefe hath he ſent? Shall ſhee from height of Idey hil be hedlong tombled downe? Or elſe out of the turrets toppe in Troy ſhal ſhe be throwne? Or wil they caſt her from the clieues into Sygeon ſeas? In bottom of the ſurging waues to end her ruthful days? Show what thy countnaunce hides and tell the ſecrets of thy breaſt. Some woes in Pyrhus wedding are farre worſe then all the reſt. Go to, geue ſentence on the mayd, pronounce her deſteny: Delude no longer our miſhappes, we are prepard to die. H. Would God the'xpoūder of the Gods would geue his dome ſo right That I alſo on poynt of ſword might leeſe the lothſome light, Or at Achilles tombe with •• ake of Pyrrhus hand be apne: And beare a part of al thy fates O wretched Polixeyne. Whom yet Achilles woeth to wed, and where his aſhes lie, Requireth that thy bloud be ſhed, and at his tombe to die. An. Behold loe how her noble mynd of Death doth gladly heare, She deckes her ſelfe? her regal weede in ſeemely wyſe to weare, And to her head ſhe ſettes her hand the broyded hayre to lay, To wed ſhe thought it Death, to die ſhe thinkes a wedding day But helpe (alas) my mother ſounds to heare her daughters death, Aryſe plucke vp your heart and take agayne the panting breath. Alacke good mother how ſlender ſtay, that doth thy life ſuſtayne? A little thinge ſhall happy thee thou art almoſt paſt payne. Her breath returnes: ſhe doth reuyue, her lims their life do take. So ſee when wretches fayne would die, how death doth them forſake. Hec. Doth yet Achilles liue (alas) to work the Troyans ſpight? Doth he rebell agaynſt vs yet? O hand of Paris light. The very tombe and aſhes loe yet thirſteth for our bloud, A happy heape of children late on euery ſyde mee ſtoode. It wearied me to deale the mothers kiſſe among them al. The reſt are loſt, and this alone now doth me mother call. Thou onely child of Hecuba, a comfort left to me. A ſtayer of my ſory ſtate and ſhall I now leeſe thee? Depart O wretched ſoule, and from this carefull carcas flie, And eaſe me of ſuch ruthfull fates, to ſee my daughter die. By weepyng wets (alas) my eyes, and ſtaines them ouer al, And downe my cheekes the ſodeine ſtreames and ſhowres af teares do fal. But thou deare daughter maiſt be glad, Caſſandra would reioyſe, Or Hectors wife thus wed to be if they might haue their choyſe. And. We are the wretches Hecuba in curſed caſe we ſtande. Whom ſtraight the ſhippe ſhal toſſe by ſeas into a forraine land. But as for Heleyns grieues be gone and turned to the beſt, She ſhall againe her natyue countrey ſe and liue at reſt. Hele. Ye would the more enuy my ſtate if ye might know your owne, Andr. And grouth there yet more griefe to me that erſt I haue not known? Hele. Such maſters muſt ye ſerue as doth by chaunce of lots befal. Andr. Whoſe ſeruaunt am I then become whom ſhall I maiſter call? Hele. By lot ye fall to Pyrhus hands you are his priſoner. Andr Caſſandra is happy, fury ſaues perhaps and Phoebus her. Hele. Chiefe kinge of Greekes Caſsandra keepes and his captiue is ſhee. Hec. Is any one amonge them all that pryſoner would haue me? Hele You chaunſed to Vlyſſes are his pray ye are become. Hec. Alas what cruell dyre and yrefull dealer of the dome. What god vniuſt doth ſo deuide, the captiues to their lordes? What grieuous arbiter is he? that to ſuch choyce accordes, What cruel hand to wretched folke, ſo euil fa es hath caſte? Who hath amonge Achilles armour, Hectors mothers plaſte? Now am I captiue, and beſet with all calamitie. My bondage grieues me not, but him to ſerue it ſhameth mee. He that Achilles ſpoyles hath won, ſhall Hectors alſo haue: Shall barraine lande encloſde with ſeas receiue my boanes in graue? Leade me Vlyſſes where thou wylt, leade me. I make no ſtay, My maſter I, and me my fates, ſhall follow euery way. Let neuer calme come to the ſeas, but let them rage with winde, Come fire and ſword, mine owne miſchaunce and Priams let me finde. In meane time haps this deepe diſtres my cares can know no calme: I ran the race with Priamus, but he hath won the Palme, But Pyrrhus comes with ſwiftned pace & thretning browes doth wreſt. What ſtayſte thou Pyrrhus? ſtrike thy ſword now through this woful brest. And both at ones the parents of thy fathers wife now ſlay, Murderer of age, likes thee her bloud? he draw my daughter away Defile the gods and ſtaine the ſprights, of hel with ſlaughtred bloud, To aſke your mercy what auayles? our prayers do no good. The vengeance aſke I on your ſhips, that it the gods may pleas, According to this ſacrifice, to guide you on the ſeas. This wiſhe I to your thouſand ſayles, Gods wrath light on them all, Euen to the ſhip that beareth me, what euer may befall. Chorus. A Comfort is to mans calamity A dolefull flocke of felowes in diſtres. And ſweete to him that mournes in miſerie To here them wayle whom ſorowes like oppre In deepeſt care his griefe him bites the les, That his eſtate bewayles not all alone, But ſeeth with him the teares of many one. For ſtill it is the chiefe delight in woe, And ioy of them that ſonke in ſorrowes are, To ſee like fates by fall to many moe, That may take part of all their wofull fare, And not alone to be oppreſt with care. There is no wight of woe that doth complayne, When all the reſt do like miſchaunce ſuſtayne. In all this world if happy man were none, None (though he were) would thinke himſelfe awretch. Let once the ritch with heapes of Gold be gone, Whoſe hundred head his paſtours ouerretch, Then would the poore mans hart begin to ſtretch. There is no wretch whoſe life him doth diſpleaſe, But in reſpect of thoſe that liue at eaſe. Sweete is to him that ſtandes in deepe diſtreſſe, To ſee no man in ioyful plight to bee, Whoſe onely veſſel wind and waue oppreſſe, Ful ſore his chaunce bewayles and weepeth hee, That with his owne none others wracke doth ſee When he alone makes ſhipwracke one the ſand, And naked falles to long deſyred land. A thouſande ſayle who ſeeth to drench in Seas, With better will the ſtorme hath ouerpaſt His heauy hap doth him the leſſe diſpleaſe When broaken boardes abroade be many caſt, And ſhipwrackt ſhippes to ſhore they flit ful faſt, With doubled waues when ſtopped is the floud, With heaps of them that there haue loſt theyr good. Ful ſore did Pirrhus Helens loſſe complayne, What time the leader of his flocke of ſhepe, Vppon his backe alone he bare them twayne, And wet his Golden lockes amid the deepe, In piteons playnt (alas) he gan to weepe. The death of her it did him deepe diſpleaſe, That ſhipwracke made amid the drenching ſeas. And piteous was the playnt and heauy moode Of woful Pyrrha and eke Deucalion That nought beheld aboute them but the flould, When they of all mankynd were left alone Amid the ſeas ful ſore they made their mone To ſee themſelues thus left aliue in woe When neyther land they ſaw, nor fellowes moe. Anone theſe playnts and Tro ans teares ſhall quaile, And here and there the ſhip them toſse by ſeas: When trompets ſound ſhal warne to hoyſe vp ſayle, And through the waues with wind to ſeeke their waies Then ſhall theſe captiues goe to ende their dayes In land vnknowne: when once with haſty ore The drenching deepe they take and ſhunne the ſhore. What ſtate of mynd ſhal then in wretches bee? When ſhore ſhall ſinke from ſight and ſeas aryſe? When Idey hill to lurke aloofe they ſee? Then poynt with hand from farre wher Troia lies, Shall child and mother: talking in this wyſe: Loe yonder Troy, where ſmoke it fumeth hie, By this the Troyans ſhal their countrey ſpie.
THE FIFTH ACTE. Nuncius, Andromacha. Hecuba. ODyre, fierce, wretched, horrible, O cruell fates accurſte, Of Mars his ten yeares bloudſhed blows the wofulſt and the worſt. Alas which ſhould I firſt bewayle? thy cares Andromacha? Or els lament the wretched age of woful Hecuba? Hec. What euer mans calamityes ye wayle for myne it is. I beare the ſmart of al their woes each other feeles but his Who euer he, I am the wretch all happes to me at laſt. Nun Slayne is the mayd, and from the walles of Troy the child is caſt. But voth (as them became) they toke their death with ſtomacke ſtout. And. Declare the double ſlaughters then, & tell the whole throughout. Nun. One towre of all the reſt ye know doth yet in Troy remayne, Where Pryan wonted was to ſit, and view the armies twayne. His litle Nephew eke with him to lead and from a farre, His fathers fightes with fire and ſword to ſhow on feats of war. This towre, ſometyme wel knowne by fame, and Troyans honor moſt. Is now with captaynes of the Greeckes, beſet on euery coaſt. With ſwift recourſe and from the ſhippes, in cluſtred heaps anone. Both tagge and ragge they runne to gaſe what thing ſhould ther be done Some clime the hilles to ſeeke a place where they might ſee it beſt, Some one the rockes a tiptoe ſtande to ouerloke the reſt. Some on their rēples weare the pine, ſome beech, ſome crownes of bay, For garlandes torne is euery tree, that ſtandeth in they way, Some from the higheſt mountaynes top aloofe beholdeth all. Some ſcale the buildinges halfe thurne, and ſome the ruinous wall. Yea ſome there were (O •• tichtee loe) that for the more deſpyghte. The tombe of Hector ſits vppon beholders of the ſight. With princely pace Vliſſes then paſt through the preaſed band Of Greekes, King Priams litle nephew leading by the hand. The Child with vnrepyning gate paſt through his enmies handes, Vp toward the walles, and as anone in turrets top he ſtandes, From thence adowne his lofty lookes he caſt on euery part, The neerer death more free from care he ſeemd and feare of hart. Amid his foes his ſtomacke ſwelles. and fierce he was to ſight. Like Tygere whel e, that th rats in vayne wt tue les chap to bight. Alas, for pi •• y then each one, rew on his tender yeares, And al the route that preſent were, for him they fhed their teares, Yea not Vliſſes them reſtraynd, but trickling downe they ſal, And onely he, wept not (poore foole) whom they bewayled al. But whyle on Gods Vliſſes cald, and Calchas wordes expound, In midſt of Pryams land (alas) the child leapt downe to ground. And. What cruel Calchas could or ſcith ſuch ſlaughter rake in hande Or by the ſhore of Caſpyan Sea, what barbarous lawles land. Buſyridis to th'aulters yet no infantes bloud hath ſhed Nor neuer yet were children ſlayne for feaſt of Diomed. Who ſhal alas in tombe thee lay, or hyde thy limmes agayne? Nu. What limmes from ſuch a headlong fall could in a child remayne, His bodies payſe throwne downe to ground, hath batred al his bones. His face, his noble fathers markes are ſpoyld agaynſt the ſtones. His necke vnioynted is: his head ſo daſht with flint ſtoane ſtroake That ſcattered is the brayne about, the ſcul is al to broake. Thus lieth he now diſmembred corpes, deformd and all to rent. An. Loe herein doth he yet likewyſe, his father repreſent. Nun. What time the Child hath headlong faine thus from the walls of Troy, And at the Greekes the ſelues bewaild y ſlaughter of the Boy, Yet ſtrayght returne they backe, and at Achilles tombe agayne The ſecond miſchiefe goe to worke the death of Polixeine. This tombe the waues of ſurging ſeas, beſet the vtter ſide, The other part the fields encloaſe aboute, and paſtors wyde. In vale enuyroned with hils, that round aboute do ryſe, A ſloape on height erected are the bankes in Theatre wyſe. By al the ſhore then ſwarme the Greekes, & thicke on heaps they preaſe Some hope that by her death they ſhall theyr ſhippes delay releaſe. Some other oy their enmies ſtocke thus beaten downe to bee: A greate part of the people, both the ſlaughter hate, and ſee. The Troyans eke no eſſe frequent their owne calamityes And all affrayd, beheld the laſt of all their miſeryes. When fi ſt proceeded torches bright as guiſe of wedlocke is. And author therof led the way the Lady Tindaris. Such wedlocke ray the Troyans then, God ſend Hermiona And would God to her huſband ſo reſtoard were Helena. Feare maſ each part, but Polixe ne her baſhful looke downe caſt: And more then earſt her glittring eyes and beauty ſhyn'd at laſt. As ſweeteſt ſeems then Phoebus light, when downe his beams do ſway, When ſtarres agayne with night at hand oppreſt the doubtful day. Aſtonnted much the people were, and all they her commende, And now much more then euer earſt, they prayſ'd her at her end. Some with her beauty moued were, ſome with her tender yeares: Some to behold the turnes of chaunce, and how each thing thus wears But moſt them moues her valiant minde, and lofty ſtomacke hie, So ſtrong, ſo ſtout, ſo ready of hart and wel prepard to dye. Thus paſſe they forth an bold before King Pirrhus goeth the mayde, They pitty her, they maruel her, their hartes were all affrayde. As ſone as then the hard hil top (where die ſhe ſhould) they trode, And hie vppon his fathers tombe the youthful Pyrrhus ſtoode. The manly mayd ſhe neuer ſhronke one foote, nor backward drew, But boldely turnes to meete the ſtroke, with ſloute vnchanged hew, Her corage moues eche one, and loe a ſtrange thing monſtrous like. That Pyrbus euen himſelfe ſtood ſtill, or dread, and dur ſt not ſtrike. But as he had, his glittring ſword in her to hills vp doon, The purple bloud, at mortall wound, then guſhing ou 〈◊〉 ſpoon. Ne yet her corage her forſooke, when dieng in that •• ounde, She fell as the'rth ſhould her reuenge with lieful rage to groūd. Each people wept the Troyans firſt with priuy fearful crye, The Grectans eake, each one bewayld her death apparantly. This order had the ſacrifyce, her bloud the tombe vp dronke, No drop remaynth aboue the ground, but downe forthwith it ſonke. Hec. Now go, now goe ye Greekes, and now repayre ye ſafely home. With careles ſhippes and hoiſed ſailes now cut the ſalt ſea fome. The Child and Virgin both be ſlaine, your battels finiſht are. Alas where ſhal I end my age? or whether beare my care? Shal I my daughter, or my nephew, or my huſband mone? My countrey els, or all at once? or elſe my ſelfe alone? My wiſh is death that children both and virgins fiercely takes Where euer cruel death doth haſt to ſtrike, it me forſakes, Amid the enmies weapons all, amid both ſword and fyre, All night ſought for, thou fleeſt from me, that do thee moſt deſyre. Not flame of fyre, not fall of towre, not cruel enmies hand Hath rid my life, how neere (alas) could death to Priam ſtand? Nun. Now captiues all with ſwift recourſe repayre ye to the ſaies, Now ſpread the ſhips their ſayls abroad, & forth they ſeeke theyr waies.
FINIS.
THE SEVENTH TRAGEDYE OF L. ANNAEVS SENECA, Entituled MEDEA: Tranſlated out of Latin into Engiiſhe, by IOHN STVDLEY. The Argument. To the Tragedy, by the Tranſlator. CAre ſore did grype Medeas heart to ſee Her Iaſon, whom ſhee tendred as her lyfe, And reſcued had from plunge of perills free, Renouncing her, to take another wyfe. Loue ſpent in vayne breedes hate & malice rife Enkindling coales, whoſe heate and greedy flame (Saue ſtreames of bloud,) nought els can quench the ſame. Medea mad in troubled mynde doth muſe, On vengeaunce fell, to quit her grieuous wrong. Rough plagues at length entendeth ſhee to vſe: Yll venemous thinges ſhee charmes, with charming ſong Seekes out a Bane made of their poyſon ſtrong, In Trayterous gifts a Robe, and chayne of Golde, Nycely ſhee doth the hidden poyſon folde. Sent are the Gyfts to Creuſe and her Syre, They taking them that brought their dole to paſſe, Vnware are burnt by meanes of charmed fyre, Due vengeaunce yet for Iaſon greater was, Lyfe firſt on chylde by Mothers hande (alas) Expired hath, which though it him aggryſe, Yet his other chylde ſhee ſlayes before his eyes. The Speakers names. MEDEA. CHORVS. NVTRIX. CREON. IASON. NVNTIVS.
THE FIRST ACTE. Medea, O Gods whoſe grace doth guide their ghoſtes that ioy in wedlocke pure, O Iuno thou Lucina hight, on whom the chary cure Alotted is of thoſe, that grone in paynfull chyldhed bandes, O Pallas by whoſe heauenly arte, Sir Typhis cunning handes Haue learnde to bridle with his helme his newly framed boate, Wherewith the force of fighting fluds hee breaking rides a floate. O God whoſe forked Mace doth ſtormes in rigour rough appeas, And cauſe the ruffling ſurges couch amid the rampinge Seas: O Titan who vpon the ſwift and werling Hemiſphaer Deuides the chearefull day and night by egall turnes t'appere, O threefolde ſhapen Hecate that sendeſt forth thy light, Vnto thy ſilent Sacrifice that offered is by night, By whom my Iaſon ſware to mee O heauenly powers all, And yee on whom Medea may with ſafer conſcience call, O Dungeon darke, moſt dreadfull den of euerlaſting night, O dampned Ghoſts: O kingdome ſet againſt the Gods aright: O Lord of ſad and lowring lakes, O Lady dyre of Hell, (Whom though that Pluto ſtale by force yet did his troth excell The ficle fayth of Iaſons loue, that hee to mee doth beave,) With curſed throate I coniure you, O griſly Ghoſtes appeare. Come out, come out, yee helliſh hagges, feuenge this deede ſo dyre, Bring in your ſcrauing pawrs a burning brand of deadly fyre. Riſe vp yee hiddeous diueliſh Feendes, as dreadfull as yee weare, When vnto me in wedlocke ſtate yee did ſometime appeare. Worke yee, worke yee, the dolefull death of this new wedded Wyfe. And martir yee this Father in lawe: depryue of breath and lyfe King Creons ruthfull family: in plunge of paſſing payne Torment yee mee, that on my ſpoule doe wiſhe this woe to raygne: Preſerue my Iaſons life, but yet let him be bayted out A myching, roging, rūnagate, in forren townes about. To paſſe from dore to dore, with care to begge his needy bread, Not knowing in what harbring place to couch his curſſed head: A baniſht wretch, diſdaynde of all, and ſtill in feare of lyfe, Then let him wiſh ten thouſand times for me agayne his Wyfe: This famous geſt whom euery man will entertayne and haue, Let him be driuē at ſtraungers gates the table ctūmes to craue. And that my bytter bannings may with miſchiefe moſt abounde, God graunt in gulph of like diſtreſſe his chyldren may be drounde, To ſynke in ſorrowes ſtormes, that doe their mother ouerflowe: Now, now, I haue, I haue the full reueng of all my woe, I haue diſpatcht: my pyteous playnt and wordes in vayne I loſe: What ſhall not I with vyolence get vp agaynſt my foes? And wring out of theyr wreſted hands the wedding torch ſo bryght? Shall I not force the firmament to loſe his ſhrinking lyght? What doth my Graundſirs Phoebus face this heauy hap beholde? And ſtandyng gaſyng at this geare yet weſtwarde is he rolde, On glyſtring chariot hoyſted hyghe, and keepes his beaten Race, Amid the chriſtall colourde ſkye, why turnes hee not his Face, Retyring faſt into the Eaſt backe vp the day to twyne? O Father Phoebe to me, to me, thy Chariot reynes reſigne, That I aduaunced vp, about the marble ſkyes may ryde, Bequearh thy brydle vnto mee, and giue me grace to guide Thy yoked prauncing teame, with yerking laſſhe of burning whip, That with thy feruent fyry beames on purple poale doe ſkip. Let Corynth countrey burnt to duſt by force of flame and fyre Gyue place, that both the iumbled ſeas may ioyne: whom to retyre It doth compell, and daſſheth of from banke on eyther ſyde, Leaſt meete in one their chanels might, whoſe ſtreames hee doth deuide, No way to worke theyr deadly woe I haue but this at hande, That to the wedding I ſhould beare a ruthſull brydall brande, Anoying Creons careleſſe Court: when finiſhed I haue Such ſolemne ſeruice, as that ryght of ſacrafice doth craue, Then at the Aulters of the Gods my chyldren ſhalbe ſlayne, With crimſen colourde bloud of Babes their Aulters will I ſtayne. Through Lyners, Lungs, the Lights & Heart, through euery gut, & gal, For vengeaunce breake away perforce, and ſpare no bloude at all: If any luſty lyfe as yet within thy ſoule doe reſt, It ought of auncient corage ſtill doe dwell within my breſt, Exite all foolyſh Female feare, and pity from thy mynde, And as th'untamed Tygers vſe to rage and raue vnkynde, That haunt the croking combrous Caues, and clumpred froſen cliues, And craggy Rockes of Caucaſus, whoſe bitter colde depryues The ſoyle of all Inhabitours, permit to lodge and reſt, Such ſaluage brutiſh tyranny within thy braſen breſt. What euer hurly burly wrought doth Phaſis vnderſtand, What mighty monſtrous bloudy feate I wrought by Sea or Land: The like in Corynth ſhalbe ſeene in moſt outragious guife, Moſt hyddious, hatefull, horrible, to heare, or ſee wyth eyes, Moſt diueliſh, deſperate, dreadfull deede, yet neuer knowne before, Whoſe rage ſhall force heauen, earth, and hell to quake and tremble ſore, My burning breaſt that rowles in wrath, and doth in rancour boyle, Sore thryſteth after bloud, and wounds with ſlaughter, death, & ſpoyle, By renting racked lyms from lyms to driue them downe to graue: Tuſh, theſe be but as Fleabytings, that mentioned I haue: As weyghty things as theſe I did in greener girliſhe age, Now ſorrowes ſmart doth rub the gall and frets with ſharper rage. But ſith my wombe hath yeelded fruict, it doth mee well behoue, The ſtrength and parlous puiſſaunce of weightier illes to prous. Be ready wrath, with all thy might that fury kindle may, Thy foes to their deſtruction bee ready to aſſay: Of thy deuorſement let the Pryce to match, and counterpayſe The proude & precious pryncely pomp of theſe new wedding dayes. How wilt thou from thy ſpouſe depart? as him thou followed haſt In bloud to bath thy bloudy handes and traytrous lyues to waſt. Breake of in time theſe long delayes, abanden now agayne, This lewd alliaunce, got by guilt, with greater guilt refrayne, ❀ Chorus altered by the Tranſlatour. WHo hath not wiſt that windy words be vayne, And that in talke of truſt is not the grounde, Heere in a mirrour may hee ſee it playne, Medea ſo by proofe the ſame hath founde. Who being blind by blinded Venus Boy, Her bleared Eyes could not beholde her bliſſe: Nor ſpy the preſent poyſon of her Ioy, While in the graſſe the Serpent lurked is, The ſhaft that flew from Cupids golden bowe, With feathers ſo hath dimd her daſeld Eyes, That cannot ſee to ſhun the way of woe: The ranckling head in dented heart that lyes, So dulles the ſame, that can not vnderſtand The cauſe that brought falſe Iaſon out of Greece, To come vnto her fathers fertile Land, Is not her loue, but loue of golden Fleece. Yet was his ſpeache ſo pleaſaunt and ſo milde, His tongue ſo filde, his promiſes ſo fayre, Sweete was the fowlers Song that hath beguilde The ſeely byrd, brought to the limed ſnare. Faith, in his Face, truſt ſhined in his Eyes, The bluſhing brow playne meaning ſeemde to ſhowe. In double hearte blacke treaſon hydden lies, Diſſembling thoughts that weaue the webbe of woe. The honyed Lyppes, the tongue in ſuger dept Doe ſweete the poyſon rancke within the breaſt, In ſubtle ſhew of paynted ſheath is kept, The ruſty knife of treaſon deemed leaſt: Lyfe ſeemes the bayte to ſight that lyeth brim, Death is the hooke that vnderlies the ſame, The Candell blaſe delights with burning trim, The Fly, till ſhee bee burned in the flame. Who in ſuch ſhowes leaſt deemed any ills. The hungry fyſhe feares not the bayte to Brooke, Till vp the lyne doe pluck him by the gylls, And faſt in throate hee feeles the deadly hooke. Woe Iaſon, woe to thee moſt wretched man, Or rather wretch Medea woe to thee, Woe to the one that thus diſſemble can, Woe to the other that trayned ſo might bee. Thoughtſt thou Medea his eyes to bee the glaſſe, Wherein thou might the Face of thoughts beholde? That in his breaſt with wordes ſo couered was, As cancred braſſe with gloſſe of yealow golde? Did thou ſuppoſe that nature (more then kinde) Had placde his heart his lying lyppes betweene, His lookes to be the mirrour of his minde? Fayth in fayre Face hath ſildome yet ben ſeene. Who liſtneth to the flatering Maremaides note, Muſt needes commit his tyred eyes to ſleepe, Yeelding to her the taking of his boate, That meanes vnware to drowne him in the deepe. What booteth thee Medea to betray The golden Fleece, to fawning Isaſons hande, From Dragons teeth him ſafely to conuay, And fyry Bulles the warders of the lande? Why for his ſake from father haſt thou fled, And thruſt thy ſelfe out from thy natiue ſoyle? Thy brothers bloud what ayled thee to ſhed, With Iaſon thus to trauell and to toyle? Beholde the meede of this thy good deſarte, The recompence that hee to thee doth gyue. For pleaſure, payne, for ioy, moſt eger ſmarte, With clogging cares in baniſhment to liue. Thou, and thy Babes, are like to begge and ſtarue. In Nation ſtraunge, (O myſerable lyfe) Whyle Iaſon from his promyſes doe ſwarue, And takes delight in his new wedded Wyfe, O Ground vngrate; that when the huſband man Hath tilled it, to recompence his toyle No Corne, but Weedes, and Thyſtles render can, To ſtinge his handes, that Fruict ſeekes of his Soyle. Such venome growes of pleaſaunt coloured flower: Loe, Prynces loe, what deadly poyſon ſup Of Bane, erſt ſweete, now turned into ſower, Medea dranke out of a goulden Cup,
THE SECOND ACTE. Medea. Nutrix, AYe mee, (alas) I am vndone, For at the Brydall cheare, The warble note of wedding ſonge reſounded in mine eare. Yet for all this ſcant I my ſelfe, yet ſcant beleue I can, That Iaſon would play ſuch a prancke, as moſt vnthāckfull man, Both of my Countrey, and my Syre, and kingdome me to ſpoyle, And yet forſake mee wretch forlorne, to ſtray in forrein ſoyle. O hath he ſuch a ſtony heart, that doth no more eſteeme, The great good turnes, and benefits that I imployde on him? Who knowes, that I haue lewdly vſed enchauntments for his ſake, The rigour rough, and ſtormy rage, of ſwelling Seas to ſlake. The grunting firy foming Bulles, whoſe ſmoking guts were ſtuft, With ſmoltring fumes, that frō theyr Iawes, & noſthrils out they puft. I ſtopt their gnaſhīg moūching mouths, I quēcht their burning breath, And vapors hot of ſtewing paunch, that els had wrought his death, Or feedes hee thus his ſanſy, fond, to thinke my ſkill of charme, Abated is, and that I haue no power to doe him harme? Brſtract of wits, with wauering minde perplext on euery part, I toſſed, and turmoyled am, wyth wayward craſy hart. Now this, now that, and neyther now, but now another way, By diuers meanes I toyle, that ſo my wrong reueng I may, I would the wretch a brother had: but what? he hath a Wyfe. Goe cut her throate, with gaſtly wounds bereue her of her lyfe. On her ile worke my deadly ſpight: her, her alone I craue, To quit ſuch bitter ſowſing ſtormes, as I ſuſtayned haue. If any graund no orious guilt in all Pelaſga Land Be put in practiſe, yet vnknowne vnto thy harming hand, Thereof to get experience the time doth now begin: Thy former feates doe byd thee take good hope, to thryue herein: Let all thy guilts with thronging thick aſſemble thee to ayde, The golden Fleece (the chiefe Nouell) of Colchis Ile betrayde. My tender Brother eke, that with my Syer did mee purſue, Whom with his ſecret partes cut of, I wicked Virgin ſlewe, Whoſe ſhreaded and diſmembred corps, with ſword in gobbits hewd, (A wofull Coarſe toth' Fathers heart) on Pontus ground I ſtrewd. How hory headded Pelias his wythred age to ſhyft To greener yeares, for longer lyfe: his daughters by my dryft His members all and mangled fleſh with licour ſcalding hot Yſodden, and perboyled haue, in ſeething braſen pot. How oft in haynous bloud haue theſe my cruell handes bene dyed? And neuer any guilt as yet by wrath inflamde I tryed. But now the parlous poyſning wound of Cupids percing dart, Doth boyle and rage within my breaſt, it ranckles at my hart. But how could Iaſon it redreſſe, whom fortunes froward wyll Hath yeelde vnto anothers hande, at luſt to ſaue or ſpill? O rage of ruſty cancred minde, this ſclaundrous talke amende, If Fortunes grace will graunt it thus, let him vnto his ende Lyue ſtill my Iaſon as he was: but if not Iaſon myne, Yet caytife ſuffer Iaſon liue, though Iaſon none of thyne: Who being mindefull ſtill of vs ſome fauour let him ſhowe, For theſe good turnes that our good will could earſt on him beſtowe: King Creon is in all the fault, and onely worthy blame, Who puffed vp with Scepter proude, vnable for to frame His tickle minde to modeſty, made breach twixt vs agayne, Whom Hymens bands, and link of loue had made but one of twayne, By whom eke from her tender brats the mother (wretch) is drawne, Hee breakes the vowe, that gaged is with ſuch a precious pawne. Seeke after ſuch a villaynes bloud, in daunting pangs of ſmart Let him alone bee ſurely dowſt, ſuch is his due deſart, A dungell hept of Cinders burnt his Pallayce make I ſhall, That Malea where in winding ſtrights, the lingring ſhips due crall, Shall gaſe on ſmolthring turrets tops turmoylde in crackling flame. NV. For godſake (Madame) I you pray your tongue to ſilence frame. Eke hyde your priuy languiſhing and greefe in ſecret vayne: Who with a modeſt minde abides the Spurs of pricking payne, And ſuffereth ſorrowes paciently, may it repay agayne. Who beares a priuy grudge in breaſt, and keepes his malyce cloſe, When leaſt ſuſpection is thereof, may moſt annoy his Foes. He leeſeth oportunity who vengeaunce doth requyre, That ſhewes by open ſparkes the flame the heate of kindled fyre. ME. Small is the grype of griefe that can to reaſons lore obay, And ſneking downe with ſtealing ſteps can ſlyly ſlip away. But they that throughly ſowſed are with ſhowers of greater payne, Can not digeſt ſuch corſyes ſharpe, but caſt it vp agaye: Fayne would I giue them trouncing girds. NV. Good daughter deare aſſwage Th'unbrydled ſway, and boyling heate of this thy gyddy rage: Scant maiſt thou purchaſe quietneſſe, although thou hold thy tongue. ME. The valiaunt heart dame Fortune yet durſt neuer harme wt wrōg, But dreading daſtards downe ſhe driues. NV. It any corage dure, And harbred be in noble breaſt, now put the ſame in vre. ME. The ſhow of ſturdy valiaut heart, at any time doth ſhyne. NV. No hope doth in aduerſity thy way to ſcape aſſygne. ME. Hee that hath none affiaunce left, nor any hope at all. Yet let him not myſtruſt the luck of ought that may befall. NV. Thy Countrey cleane hath caſt thee of, to let thee ſinke or ſwim, As for thy huſband Iaſon bee, there is no truſt in him: Of all the wealth, and worldly mucke wherewith thou didſt abounde: No porcion remaynes at all, whereby ſome helpe is founde. ME. Medea yet is left, (to much) and here thou mayſt eſpy The Seas to ſuccour vs in flyght, and landes aloofe that ly: Yea pron tooles, with burning brands we haue to worke them woe, And Gods that with the thunder dint ſhall ouerquell our foe: NV. Who weares y goldēcreſted crowne him dred with awe yee ſhould. ME. My Father was a King, yet I betrayed his Fleece of gould. NV. Can not the deadly vyolence of weapons make thee feare? ME. No, though ſuch griſly Lads they were, as whilom did appeare, That bred of gargell Dragous teeth in holow gaping grounde, When mutually in bloudy fight eche other did confounde. N. Thē wilt thou caſt thy ſelf to death. M. Would God ye I were dead. NV. Fly, fly to ſaue thy life. ME. Woe worth the time that once I fled. N. What O Medea. M. Why ſhall I fly? N. A mother deere art thou, Fly therefore for thy childrens ſake. ME. Yee ſee by whom, and how, A wretched Mother I am made. NV. Thy lyfe by flight to ſaue Doſt thou miſtruſt? ME. Nay, fly I will, but vengeaunce firſt ile haue. NV. Then ſome ſhall thee at heeles purſue, to wrecke the ſame agayne. ME. Perhap ile make his cōming ſhort. NV. Be ſtill, and now refrayne O deſpret dame thy thundring threates, and ſlake your raging ire. Apply, and frame thy froward will as time and tides requyre. ME. Full well may fortunes welting wheele to begging bring my ſtate, As for my worthy corage, that ſhee, neuer ſhall abate. Who bowncing at the Gates, doth cauſe the creaking dores to Iar? It is the wretch (Creon his ſelfe,) whom princely power far Hath lift aloft, with lordly looke, puft vp with pouncing pryde, That hee may Corinth countrey, with the ſway of Scepter guide. Creon. Medea. NEdea that vngracious Imp, king Aetas wicked chylde, Yet hath not frō our careful realme her lingring foote exilde. Som naughty drift ſhe goes about, her knacks of old we kno Her iugling arts, her harming hāds are known wel long ago. From whō will ſhee withhold her harme? whom will this cruell beaſt Permit to liue, from perrill free, in quietneſſe and reſt? Cleane to cut of this parlous plague it was our purpoſe bent, But Iaſon by entreting hard, did cauſe vs to relent. At his requeſt we graunted haue, her life ſhe ſhall enioy, Let her acquit our countrey free from feare of all annoy: Yea ſaufely let her pack her hence, in eger giddy fit, With lumpiſh lowring looke ſhee comes in talke with me to knit: Sirs keepe her of and ſet her hence, leaſt vs ſhe touch perhap, And driue her backe from cōming nigh commaunde her keepe her clap. And let her learne at length, how that her ſelfe ſubmit ſhe may, The puiſſaunt payſe and maieſty of Princes to obay. Run, hie thee quickly, trudge apace, haue hence out of my ſight This horrible, moſt odious quean, this monſtrous wicked wight. ME. My ſoueraygne liege, what greater crime haue I or leſſe offence Commit againſt thy maieſty, to be ex led hence? CR. Alas, the guiltleſſe woman doth demaunde a reaſon why: ME. If thou be Iudge indifferent, ordaynde my cauſe to try, Conſider then my doubtfull caſe, and wey the ground of it: If thou be king, cōmaund a Iudge for ſuch a matter fit. CR. The princes powre thou ſhalt obey, b'it eyther right or wrong. M. The proſperous pryde of wronging crownes cannot endeuer long. CR. Auaunt, & yell out thy complaynts at Colchis, get thee hence. ME. Full gladly will I get mee home, if he that brought me thence, Vouchſafe to beare me back agayne. CR. Alas, to late aryſe Entreating wordes, when as decree is taken otherwiſe. ME. He that not hearing eyther part, pronounceth his decree, Vnrighteous man accoumpted is, though ryght his ſentence bee. CR. Whyle Pclias truſted to thy talke, from lyfe to death hee fell. Go to, begyn, we gyue you leaue your goodly tale to tell. ME. That type of Regall maieſty, that erſt by Fortunes hand, Aduaunced to I dyd attayne, hath taught mee vnderſtand, How hard a thing it is of wrath the rygour to aſſwage, When burning heate of boyling breaſt in flames begins to rage. Eke for th'aduan̄cement of their power more to diſplay in ſight Theyr kingly corage bolſtred out with maieſty of might. They deeme it doth import aſway, and hath a greater grace, Whome ſtately ſcepter cauſde to climbs aloft to prouder place. To perſeuer with fanſye fonde, in that to reaſons ſpyght, Whoſe greedy choyce attaynted fyrſt his minde with vayne delight. For though in pireous plyght I lye, throwne downe to great decay, With heauy hap, and ruthfull chaunce, to myſerable ſtay, Thus hunted out from place to place, forſoke and left alone, A wyddow while my huſband liue, with cauſe to wayle and mone, Perplext in maze of miſery, wyth cloying cares ſo ryfe, Yet whylom I in golden trone haue led in happy lyfe. By high and noble parentage my bryght renowne doth ſhyne. From Phoebus take my Graundſire great deryued is my ligue. Whear ſyluer ſtreamed Phaſis flood his waſſhing waues doth ſhed, Or with contrary croking wayes his bathing channell ſpred, What euer wandring coaſt ſtretcht out is eft aloofe behynde, From whence the roaming Scithyan Sea his channell forth doth fynde, Where as Maeotis fenny plaſhe with pure freſh water ſprynges, Doth ſeaſon ſweete the briny Sea, that tyde in thyther brynges. Eke all the coaſtes enuyroued and kept within the bankes Of Thermodon, where warlike troupes, & armed wyddowes ranckes, With paynted bucklers on their armes holde all the land in feare, With rigour rough of threatning ſword, with force of denting ſpeare. So farre to all theſe wandring coaſtes and countreyes round about, My Fathers ample regiment at large is ſtretched out. I being thus of noble Race, and in an happy plight, With glorious gloſſe of pryncely pomp in honour ſhining bright, Then peareleſſe Peares my Spouſall bed did ſeeke and ſue to haue, But thoſe to be theyr louing Feeres, now other Ladyes craue: Raſhe, ticle, peuiſh, vndiſcreete, and wauering Fortunes wheele, Hath caſt me out, the cruſſhing cares of baniſhment to feele. In Scepter proude and hauty Crowne fix thine affyaunce faſt. Sith vpſidowne with welkin wheele, whole mounts of wealth is caſt. This Prynces doe poſſeſſe, that ſhould theyr royalty diſplay, Whoſe fame ſhall neuer razed be, with ſtorme of lowring day, To ſuccour thoſe whom miſery in pit of paynes doth ſouſe, To ſhield and harber ſuppliaunts in roof of loyall houſe. This onely brought I from my Realme, the precious golden Fleece, That Iewell chiefe, and eke the flower of Chyualry in Greece, The ſturdy prop, the Rampter ſtrong the bulwarke of your wealth, And Hercules the boyſtrous Imp of Ioue I kept in health. It was by meanes of my good will that Orpheus did eſcape, Whoſe harmony the liueleſſe Rocks with ſuch delight did rape, That forced euen the clottred lumpes with hobling prickt to praunce, And eke the iocond nodding woods with footing fine to daunce. And that theſe heauenly twins Caſtor, and Pollux did not by, My dew deſart is doubled twiſe, ſith them preſerued I. Of Boreas bluſtring out with puffed Cheekes, his blaſting Breath, His wynged Sons I kept aliue both Calais, and Zeath. And Linceus that with pearcing beames, and ſharper ſight of Eye, Could Nauies on the farther banke of Sicill ſhore eſpy. And all the Mynians that did come the golden Fleece to win. As for the Prince of Princes all, I will not bring him in. With ſilence Iaſon will I paſſe, for whom though him I ſaue, Yet is not Greece in debt to mee, no recompence I craue. To no man him I doe impute, the reſt I brought agayne For your •• ayle, that you thereby ſome profit might attayne. But onely on my Iaſon deare, him for my owne loues ſake I kept in ſtore, that hee of mee his wedded Wyfe ſhould make. None other fault (God wot) yee haue to charge mee with but this, That Argo Ship by meanes of mee returned ſaufely is. If I a ſhamefaſt mayde had not with Cupids bayte bene caught, If more my Fathers health to haue then Iaſons I had ſought, Pelaſga land had bene v done, and faine to great decay, Th luſty valiaunt Capitaynes, had cleane bene caſt away: And ioly Iaſon fyrſt of all this now thy ſonne in lawe, The Buls had rent his ſwalowed lims in fiery chomping iawe. Let Fortune fight agaynſt my caſe as liſt her eluiſh will, Yet neuer ſhall it grieue my heart, repent my deede I nill, That I ſhould for ſo many kings their reling honour ſaue, The guerden due that I for this my crime commit muſt haue, It lyeth Crecon in thy hande, if thus it lyketh thee, Condemne my guilty ghoſt lo death, but render fyrſt to mee, My fault that forced me offend, then Creon graunt I this, Receauing Iaſon (cauſe of cryme) I guilty did amiſſe. Thou knowſt that I was ſuch an one when couring low I lay, Before thy feete in humble wiſe and did entreating pray, Thy gracious goodnes mee to graunt ſome ſuccour at thy hande. For me a wreatch and wreatched Babes I aſke within this lande Some cotage baſe, in outcaſt hole, ſome couching corner vile, If from the towne thou driue vs out to wander in exile, The ſome by place aloofe within this realme let vs obtar e. CR. How I am none that tyrant like with churliſh Scepter raygne, Nor proudly or diſdaynfully, with hawty corage hie, With vaūting foote doe ſtamp them downe that vndertroden lye, And daunted are in carefull bale, thys playnly doth diſcloſe, In that to mee of late I ſuch a ſonne in lawe haue choſe, Who was a wandring pilgrim poore, with ſore afflictions fraight, Diſmayde with terrour of his foe, that lay for him in wayght. Becauſe Acaſtus hauing got the crowne of Theſſail lande, Requyreth in thy guilty bloude to bath his wreackfull hande. He doth bewayle that good olde man his feeble father ſlayne, Whom waight of yeres with bowing back to ſtoupe alow conſtrayne The godly mynded ſyſters, all yblinde with miſty vale And cloking colour of thy craft durſt ventruſly aſſayle. That mount of myſchiefe marueylous, to mangle heaw, and cut Theyr Fathers dere vnioynted limmes in boyling Caldron put. But for thy open guiltineſſe if thou can purge the ſame, Strayght Iaſon can diſcharge him ſelfe from blot of guilty blame. His gentle handes were neuer ſtaynde with goare of any bloude. Aloofe from your conſpyracie refrayning farre hee ſtoode. His harmeleſſe handes put not in vre with goary tooles to mell. But thou that ſetſt on fyre fyrſt theſe mighty miſchiefes fell, Whom ſhameleſſe womans wily braine and manly ſtomack ſtout Doe ſet a God, for to attempt to bring all ils about. And no regarde at all thou haſt, how ſounding trumpe of fame With ringing blaſt of good or ill doe blowe abrode thy name: Get out and clenſe my fyled realme, away together beare Thyne hearbes vn ilde of ſorcery, my Lyeges ryd fro feare. Tranſporte thee to ſome other lande, whereas thou may at eaſe With odious noyſe of diueliſh charme, the troubled Gods diſeaſe. ME. If needes thou wylt haue me auoyde my ſhyp to mee teſtore, Or els my mate with whom I fyrſt aryued on this ſhore: Why doſt thou bid that by my ſel e I onely ſhould be gone? I came not heather at fyrſt wythout my company alone. If this do thee aggryeſe, that brunt of warres thou ſhalt ſuſtayne, Commaund vs both the cauſe thereof to ſhun thy realme agayne: Sith both are guilty of one art, why doſt thou part vs twayne? For Iaſons ſake not for myne owne, poore Pelias was ſlayne. Annex vnto my traytrous flight the conquerde booty braue, My hoary headded naturall ſier, whom I forſaken haue, With brothers bloudy fleſh that mangled was with caruing knife, Or ought of Iaſons forged lies he gabbes vnto his wyfe. Theſe dreary deedes are none of myne, ſo oft as I offend, Not for myne owne cōmodity, to come thereby in thende. CR. Time is expierd, by which thou ought to haue bene gone away, Wyth keeping ſuch a chat, why doſt thou make ſo long delay? ME. Yet of thy bounty ere I goe, this one boone will I craue. Although the mother baniſhed, ſo ſore offended haue, Let not the vengeaunce of my fault through wrathfull deadly hate, Myne innocent and guiltleſſe Babes torment in wreached ſtate. CR. Away: with louing friendly grype thy children I embrace, And as a father naturall take pity on theyr caſe. ME. Euen for the proſperous good encreace of fertill ſpouſall bed, Of Glauce bright thy Daughter deare, whom Iaſon late hath wed. And by the hope of fruictfull ſeede, whoſe flowre in time ſhall bloome. By th'onour of thy glyſtring crowne, ythralde to fortunes doome, Whych ſhee ſo full of chop and chaunge, with ticle turning wheele Whirls vp and downe, in ſtaggring ſtate makes to and fro to reele. I thee beſeech, ſith to exile I am departing now O Creon but a litle pawſe for mercy mee alow, Whyle of my mourning br ts with kyſſe, my laſt farewell I take. Whyle gaſpe of fayling breath perhap my ſhyuering lyms forſake. CR. With craft entending ſome deceipt thou craueſt this delay. ME. What falſhode for ſo litle time be cauſe of terrour may? CR. No tot of time is ſhort ynough diſpleaſure to preuent. ME. Can not one io to weeping Eyes, and trylling teares be lent? CR. Although agaynſt thy erneſt ſuite vnlucky dread do ſtryue, One day to ſettle thee away, content I am to gyue. ME. This is to much, and of the ſame ſomwhat abrydge yee may. CR. Make ſpeede apace if from our land thou get thee not away, Ere Phoebus horſe with golden gleede theyr ſtreaming beames doe ſhed, Of dawning lampe, thou art condemde to leeſe thy wretched hed. The holy day, and brydall both doe call me hence away: And wils mee at the ſacred aare of Hymeneus to pray. Chorus. LAuiſh of life and dreadleſſe was the wyght, Attempting fyrſt in ſlender tottring Barge Wyth ſliuing Ore theſlyced waue to ſmyte, And durſt commit the dainty tender charge Of hazered life to inconſtant courſe of wynde, That turnes with chaunge of chaunces euermore, To vew the land forſooke aloofe behynde, And ſhoouing forthe the Ship fro ſafer ſhore, And glauncing through the fomy Channell deepe On ſunder cut with ſlender Stemme the waue, Twixt hope of lyfe, and dread of death to ſweepe, In narrow gut him ſelfe to ſpill or ſaue: Experience yet of Planets no man had, They needed not the wandring courſe to knowe Of Starres, (wherewith the paynted ſky is clad,) Not Pleiads, (which returne of ſayling ſhow) Nor Hyads (that with ſhowrs the Seas doe beate) No nor the ſterne Amaltheas horned head (Who gaue the lyppes of ſucking Ioue the Teate) Were wont to put the blundering ſhips in dread. They feared not the northerne Iſy wayne, Whych lazy olde bootes wieldes behinde, And twynes about, no name yet could they fayne For Boreas rough, nor ſmother weſtern wynde. Yet Typhys bould on open ſeas durſt ſhow His hoyſted ſayles, and for the wyndes decree New lawes: as now full gale aloofe to blow, Now tackle turride to take ſyde wynde alee, Now vp to farle the croſſayle on the maſt, There ſafe to hang, the topſayle now to ſpred, Now miſſel ſayle, and drabler out to caſt, VVhen dagling hanges his ſhottring tackle red VVhyle ſtearſman ſtur, and buſye neuer blin, VVith pyth to pull all ſayles eke to diſplay, VVith tooth and nayle all foree of winde to wyn, To ſheare the ſeas, and quick to ſcud awaye. The golden worlde our fathers haue poſſeſt, VVhere banyſht fraude durſt neuer come in place, All were content to liue at home in reſt, VVith horye head, gray beard, and ſurrowed face. VVhych tract of time within his countrey brought. Riche hauing lytle, for more they did not toyle, No vente for wares, nor Traficque far they ſought, No wealth that ſprange beyond theyr natiue ſoyle, The Theſſail ſhyp together now hath ſet, The Theſſail ſhip together now hath ſet, The Worlde that well with Seas diſſeuered lay, It biddes the fl uds with Oares to be bet, And ſtreames vnknowen with ſhipwrack vs to fray That wicked Keele was loſt by ruthfull wrack Ytoſſed through ſuch perylles paſſing great, Where Cyane Rocks gan rore as thunder crack, Whoſe bouncing boult the ſhaken ſoyle doth beat. The ſowſing Surges daſſhed euery ſtarre, The peſterd ſeas the cloudes aloft berayde, This ſcuffling did bould TYPHIS minde detarre, Hys helme did ſlip from trembling hande diſmayde. The ORPHEVS with his drowping Harp was mum Dead in her dumpes the flaunting ARGOS glee, All huſht in reſt with ſilence wexed dum, What hardy heart aſtound heere would not bee? To ſee at once eche yawning mouth to gape, Of Syllas gulph compact in wallowing paunch, Of dogges, who doth not loth her mongrell ſhape, Her viſage, breaſt, and hyddeous vgly haunch: Whom erketh not the ſcoulde with barking ſtill? To here the Mermaydes dyre who doth not quayle, That lure the Eares with pleaſaunt ſinging ſhrill Of ſuch as on Auſonius Sea doe ſayle: When ORPHEVS on his t anckling Harpe did play, That earſt the Muſe Callio gaue to him Almoſt thoſe Nymphes that wonted was to ſtay The ſhyps, he cauſd faſt following him to ſwim. How deerely was that wicked iourney bought? MEDEA accurſt, and eke the golden F eece, That greater harme then ſtorme of ſeas hath wrought Rewarded well that voyage firſt of Greece. Now ſeas controulde doe ſuffer paſſage free, The Argo proude erected by the hand Of PALLA firſt, doth not complayne that ſhee, Conueyde hath back, the kynges vnto theyr land Eche whirry boate now ſcuddes aboute the deepe, All ſtynts and warres are taken cleane away, The Cities frame new walles themſelues to keepe, The open worlde lettes nought reſt where it lay: The Hoyes of Ind Arexis lukewarme leake, The Perſeans ſtout in Rhene and Albis ſtreame Doth bath their Barkes, time ſhall in fine out breake When Ocean waue ſhall open euery Realme. The wandring World at will ſhall open lye. And TYPHIS vvill ſome nevve founde Land ſuruay Some trauelers ſhall the Countreys farre eſcrye, Beyonde ſmall Thule, knovven furtheſt at this day.
THE THIRD ACTE. Nutrix. Medea. WHy trotſt thou fiſking in and out ſo raſh from place to place? Stand ſtyll, and of thyne eger wrath ſuppreſſe the ruthfull race, The rigour rough of ramping rage from burning breaſt out caſt, As Bacchus bedlem prieſtes that of his ſpryte haue felt the blaſt, Run franticke, hoyting vp and downe with ſcitiſh wayward wits, Not knowing any place of reſt, ſo prickt with frowarde fits, On cloudy top of Pindus Mounte all hyd with Snow ſo chyll: Or els vpon the lofty riddge of braunched Niſa hyll: Thus ſtarting ſtill with frounced mynde ſhe walters to and froe, The ſignes pronouncing proofe of pangues her frenſy Face doth ſhow With glowing cheekes, and bloud red Face with ſhort & gaſping breath, Shee fetcheth deepe aſcending ſighes from ſobbing heart beneath, Now blyth ſhe ſmiles, ech rūbled thought in pondring braine ſhe beats, Now ſtandes ſhe in a mammering, now myſchiefe ſore ſhe threats. With chafing fume ſhe burnes in wrath, and nowe ſhe doth cōplayne, With blubbering teares a freſh byliue ſhee weepes & wayles agayne. Where will this lumpiſh loade of cares with headlong ſway allight? On whom entendeth ſhee to worke the threates of her deſpight? Where will this huge tempeſtious ſurge ſlake downe it ſelfe agayne? Enkindled fury new in breaſt begins to boyle a mayne. Shee ſecretly entendes no miſchiefe ſmall nor meane of ſ ſe To paſſe her ſelfe in wickednes her buſy braynes deuiſe. The token olde of pinching ire full well ere this know I: Some haynous, huge, outragious great, and dredfull ſtorme is nye: Her firy, ſcowling, ſteaming Eyes, her hanging Groyne I ſee, Her powling, puffed, frowning Face, that ſignes of freatting bee. O myghty Ioue be guile my feare. ME. O wretch if thou deſire, What meaſure ought to payſe thy wrath then learne by Cupids fire, To hate as ſore as thou didſt loue, ſhall I not them anoy That doe vnite in ſpouſall bed, theyr wanton luſt t'enioy? Shall Phoebus fiery footed horſe goe lodge in weſtern waue The drowping day, that late I did with humble crowching craue, And with ſuch erneſt buſie ſuite ſo hardly graunted was? Shall it depart ere I can bring my deuyliſh dryſt to paſſe? Whyle houering heauen doth counterpayſed hang with egall ſpace, Amid the marble Hemiſpheares, whyle rounde with ſtinted race, The gorgeous Sky aboue the Earth doth ſpinning roll about, Whyles that the number of the ſandes, lyes hid vnſerched out, While dawning day doth keepe his courſe with Phoebus blaſe ſo bright, While twinkling ſtarres in golden traynes doe garde the ſlūbry nyght, While Iſle vnder propping poale with whyrling ſwyng ſo ſwift, The ſhyning Beares vnbathde about the froſen Sky doe lift, While fluſhing floudes the frothy ſtreames to ruſtling Seas doe ſend, To gird them gript with plonging pangues my rage ſhall neuer end. With greater heate it ſhall reboyle, lyke as the brutiſhe beaſt, Whoſe tyranny moſt horrible, exceedeth all the reſt, What greedy gaping whyrle poole wide what parlous gulph vnmilde, What Sylla coucht in roring Rockes, or what Charybdes wylde, (That Sicill, and Ionium Sea by frothy waues doth ſup) What Aetna bolking ſt fling flames, and duſky vapours vp, (Whoſe heauy payſe wt ſtewing heate doth ſmoldring cruſh beneath Encelades, that fiery flakes from choked throte doth breath) Can with ſuch dreadfull menaces in ſweeting fury fry? No ryuer ſwift no troubled ſurge of ſtormy Sea ſo hye, Nor ſturdy ſeas (whom ruffling winds with raging force to rore) Nor puiſſaunt flaſh of fyre, whoſe might by boyſtrous blaſt is more, May byde my angers violence: my fury ſhall it foyle: His court Ile ouer hourle, and lay it leauell with the ſoyle. My Iaſons heart did quake for feare of Creon cruell king. And leaſt the king of Theſſaly would warre vpon him bring. But loyall loue that hardens hearts makes no man be afright. But beete, that he conuict hath yeelde himſelfe to Creons might. Yet once hee might haue viſited, and come to me his wyfe, To talke, and take his laſt farewell, if daunger of his life In doing this (hard harted wretch moſt cruell) he ſhould feare, He being Creons ſonne in law, for him it efull were, To haue proroged ſomwhat yet my heauy baniſhment, To take my leaue of chyldren twayne one onely day is lent: Yet doe I not complayne, as though the time to ſhort I thought, As proofe ſhall playne pronounce, to day, to day, it ſhall bee wrought, The memory whereof no tract of time ſhall wype away. With malice bent agaynſt the Gods my wrath ſhall them aſſay: And rifling euery thing, both good, and bad, I will turmoyle. NV. Madame thy minde that troubled is, and toſt with ſuch abroyle Of ſwarming ills thy vexed breaſt now ſet at reſt agayne, The peniſh fond affections all of troubled mynde refrayne. ME. Then onely can I be at reſt, when euery thing I ſee Throwne headlong topſte turuey downe to ruthfull ende with mee. With mee let all things cleane decay: thy ſelfe if thou doe ſpill, Thou m iſt driue to deſtruction what els with thee thou will: NV. It in this folly ſtiffe thou ſtand, beholde what after clappes Are to bee fearde, none dare contriue for Prynces trayning trappes. Iaſon. Medea. O Luckleſſe lot of frowarde Fates, O cruell Fortunes hap, Both whē ſhe liſt to ſmite, or ſpare, in woe ſhe doth vs wrap A like, the ſalue y God hath geuen ſo oft, to cure our griefe, More noyeth then the ſore it ſelfe, and ſendeth leſſe reliefe: If for her good deſerts: o me, amendment I ſhould make, I hazard ſhould my ventrous lyfe to leeſe it for her ſake. If I will ſhun my diſmall day, and will not for her dy, Then want the loue of loyalty, O wretched man muſt I. No daſtards dread my ſtomacke ſtout can cauſe to droupe & ſhrynke, But meere remorſe appaulleth me, when on my babes I thynke. For why? when carefull parents are once reft of lyfe and breath, Some after them their wretched ſeede are drawne to dolefull death. O Sacred righteouſneſſe (if thou enioye thy worthy place In perfect bliſſe of happy heauen) I call vpon thy grace, And thee for witneſſe here alledge, how for my childrens part With pity prickt I haue commit theſe things agaynſt my hart. And ſo I thinke Medea her ſelfe the Mother rather had, (Though frantickly as now ſhe ares with rage of heart ſo mad And doth abhor with paynfull yoke of combrous cares to toyle) Her ſpouſall bed, then that her ſeede ſhould take the plunging foyle. I did determine in my minde, to goe her to entreate With gentle wordes, & pray her ceaſe, in feruent wrath to freate. And loe, on me when once ſhe caſte the beames of glauncing Eye, Full blythe ſhe leapes, ſhe tumpes for ioy, in fi s ſhe ginnes to fry. Deepe deadly blackiſh hate ſhe ſeemes in outwarde brow to beare, And wholly in her frowning face doth glutting griefe appeare. ME. I packing, packing, Iaſon am: this ſtill to chop, and chaunge The fleeting ſoyle of my abode, to mee it is not ſtraunge. The cauſe of my departure yet (to me is ſtraung) and new. I wonted was in followinge thee all places to eſchew: I will depart, and get me hence, to whom for helping hande Entendeſt thou to ſende vs forth, whom hence to fly the land Thou doſt compell with thine alies? ſhall I repayre agayne To Phaſis flood, to Colchis Iſle, or to my fathers raygne? Or goary ſweeting fieldes, that with my brothers blood do reeke? What harbring lands aloofe doſt thou commaund vs out to ſeeke? What ſeas appoint yee me to paſſe? ſhall I my iourney dryue, Vppon the parlous hatefull iawes of Pontus to arriue, By which I did ſaufe conduct home kings valiaunt armies great, Where roaring rocks with thundring noiſe the flapping waues do beate Or on the narrow wrackfull ſhore, of Simplegades twayne? Or els to ſmall Hiolcos towne can I retourne agayne? Or toyle, the gladſome pleaſaunt lands of Tempe to attayne? All places that I opened haue vnto thy paſſage free, I ſhut them vp agaynſt my ſelfe, now whether ſendſte thou mee? A baniſht wretch to baniſhment thou wouldeſt haue encline, Yet to the place of her exyle, thou canſt not her aſſygne. Yet for all that without delay I muſt depart and go: And why? forſoth the king his ſonne in law commaundeth ſo. Well: nothing will I ſtand againſt, with grypes of paſſing payne Let me be ſcourgde, of my deſarts ſuch is the gotten gayne. Let Creon in his pryncely ruffe lay to his heauy handes, To whyp an whore in torments ſharp, with iron giues, and bandes Let her be chaynd, in hydeous hole of night for aye her locke: Let her be cloyed with peſtring payſe of reſtleſſe rowling rocke. Yet leſſe than I deſerued haue, in all this ſhall I finde: O thou vncurteous Gentleman, conſider in thy mynde The flamy puffes, and firy gaſpes of gaſtly gaping bull, And Aetas catell rych with Fleece of gorgeous golden wooll, That went to graze amid ſo great and mighty feares in fielde, Of vncontrouled Nation, whoſe ſoyle doth armies yeelde. Reuoke to minde the deadly dartes of ſodayne ſtarting foe, When gaſtly warriour (Tellus broode) to ground agayne did goe, Through ſlaughter red of mutuall launce, to this yet further paſſe, The lurched Fleece of Phrixes Ramme, that all thine errand was. And vgſome Argos ſlumberleſſe, whom faſt I cauſde to keepe His wery watching winking eyes with vnaquaynted ſleepe. My brother eke, whoſe fatall twiſt of feeble lyfe I ſhred, And guilt that wrought ſo many guiltes when as with thee I fled. The daughters whom I ſet on worke entrapt in wily trayne, To ſlay theyr ſire, that ſhall not ryſe to quickned lyfe agayne. And how to trauell other realmes, I ſet myne owne at nought. By that good hope which of thy ſeede conceaued is in thought, Eake by thy ſtable Manſion place, and mighty monſters, that Downe beaten for thy health, I cauſde before thy feete to ſquat, And by theſe drudging hands of myne vnſpared for thy ſake, For dread of daungers ouer paſt that cauſed thee to quake, By heauens aboue, and ſeas belowe, that witneſſe bearers bee, To knitting of our maryage vp, thy mercy vayle to mee. Of all the heapes of treaſure great ſo farre of being fet, Which Aetas ſauage Scythians dyd trauell for to get, From Ind, where Phoebus ſcorching blaſe doth dye the people blacke. Of all this golde which in our dowers wee coulde not well compacke. But tricke and trym wee garniſhed our groues with golde ſo gay, I baniſht wretch of all this ſtuffe gat nought with mee away, Except my brothers ſlaughtred fleſh, yet I employed the ſame On thee: the cares of countreyes health, my honeſty and ſhame. My Father, and my brother both hath yeelded place to thee, This is the dowry that thou had my wedded ſpouſe to bee. To her whom thou doſt abrogate reſtore her goods agayne IA. When Creon in malicious moode had thought thee to haue ſlayne, Entreated with my teares, exyle and life he gaue to thee. ME. I tooke it for a puniſhment, but ſurely as I ſee This baniſhment is now become a friendly good rewarde. IA. While thou haſt time to goe, be gone, for moſt ſeueare, and harde The kings diſpleaſure euer is. M. thus wouldſt thou dodge mee out? Thy hated trull caſt of thou doſt, that pleaſe Creuſe thou mought. IA. Doſt thou Medea vpbrayde mee with the breach vnkynde of loue? ME. And ſlaughter vyle, with trechery, whereto thou didſt mee moue. IA. When all is done what canſt thou ſay my guiltines to ſtayne? ME. Euen whatſoeuer I haue done. IA. Yet more this doth remayne: That thy vngracious wickednes of harme ſhould mee accuſe. ME. Thine, thine, they are, they are all thine what euer I did vſe, Who that of lewdneſſe reapes the fruict, is grafter of the ſame. Let euery one with infamy thy wretched Spouſe defame, Yet doe thou onely take her part, her onely doe thou call A iuſt and vndefiled wight, without offence at all. If any man ſhall for thy ſake polute his hand with ill, To thee let him an innocent yet be accompted ſtill, IA. The life is lothſome that doth worke his ſhame who hath it choſe. ME. The life whoſe choyſe doth worke thy ſhame thou ought againe to loſe. IA. Let reaſon rule thy eger mynde ſo vext with crabbed ire, And for thy tender childrens eaſe to bee at reſt requyre. ME. I doe defy it, wholy I deteſt it, I forſweare, That bretheren bred vnto my barnes Creuſas wombe ſhall beare. IA. It will be trim, when as a Queene of maieſty and myght Hath iſſue, kinne vnto the ſeede of thee a baniſhe wight. ME. So curſed day ſhall neuer on my wretched children ſhine, To mingle baſe borne baſterdes with the bloud of noble Lygue. Shall Phoebus ſtocke (that beares the lamp of heauen in ſtarry throne) Be macht with drudging Siſiphus that roules in hell the ſtone? IA. What meaneſt thou wretch, both thee & mee in baniſhment to yoke? I pray then hence. ME. When humbly I my mynde to Creon broke, Hee gaue an eare vnto my ſuite. IA. What lyeth in my myght To doe for thee? ME. If no good turne, then doe thy worſt diſpyght. IA. On this ſide with his ſwerd in hand king Creon doth mee carre: On other part with armed hoaſt Acaſt doth mee detarre. ME. Medea eke to coape with theſe, that more apaull vs may: Go to, to ſkyrmiſhe let vs fall, let Iaſon be the pray: IA. I yeelde whom ſore aduerſities haue tyerd with heauy ſway. Learne thou to dred thy lucleſſe lot that ofte doth thee aſſay. ME. I euermore haue rulde the ſwinge of fortunes wauering will. IA. Achaſtus is at hand, and nygh is Creon thee to ſpyll: ME. Take thou thy heeles to ſcape them both, I doe not thee aduiſe, That thou agaynſt thy father in lawe in traytrous armes ſhould ryſe. Nor in Achaſt thy coſens bloud thy wounding handes to gore, The vowes vnto Medea made, doe trouble thee ſo ſore. Whyle yet thou haſt not ſpilt there bloud, yet fly with mee away. IA. When armies twayne their banners of defiance ſhall diſplay, And marching forth in fielde to fyght ſeeke battayle at my hande, Who then for vs encounter ſhall their puiſſaunce to withſtand? ME. If Creon and Achaſtus king encampe together ſhall. Admit that theſe in one with them ſhould ioyne their powers all My Countreymen of Colchis Ile, and AEtas luſty kyng, Suppoſe the Scythians ioyne with Greekes, to ground I wil thē bring, Cleane put to foile. IA. The puiſſaunt power of hawty mace I feare. ME. Take heede, leaſt more thou do affect the ſame, then for to cleare, Thy ſelfe of Creons ſeruile yoke. IA. Leaſt ſome ſuſpicion grow, Of this our tatling long here let vs make an ende and goe. ME. Now Ioue hurle out thy flames & force thy thundring bolts to fly, With fiery drakes bright brandiſhing diſparſt in burning ſky: Strayne forth thy dreadfull threatning arme, diſpoſe in due aray The roſſing dint of lightning flaſhe, that wrecke our quarrell may. With rumbling cracke of renting cloud cauſe all the world to quake, And Ieuell not thy houering hand to ſtryke with firy flake Uppon my paſht and cruſhed corpes, or Iaſons Carcaſſe ſlayne: For whether of vs thou ſmight to death his due rewarde ſhall gayne, Thy thumps of thwacking boltes on vs amiſſe they cannot light. IA. Fy, let thy mynde on matters runne that ſeeme a modeſt wight. And vſe to haue more cheerefull talke, if any thing thou craue, Within my fathers houſe to eaſe thy flyght, thou ſhalt it haue. ME. Thou knowſt my minde bath can, & eke is wont, to doe no leſſe, Then to contemne the brittell wealth that Prynces doe poſſeſſe. This, this ſhalbe the onely boone that at thy hande I craue, As mates with me in baniſhment, my children let mee haue, That reſting on theyr ſighing breaſtes my carefull mourning hed, I may my chryſtall teary ſtreames into theyr boſomes ſhed. But as for thee, new gotten ſonnes of wife new wed doe ſtay. IA. I graunt that vnto thy requeſt I wiſhe I might obey: But nature mee with pity pryckes, that needes I muſt deny. For though both Creon and Achaſt, in torments force mee lye, I could not yeelde vnto theyr willes: on this my lyfe doth reſt: In times of teares, this is the ioy of dull afflicted breſt For better farre I can abyde the wante of vitall breath, And ſuccour of my lymmes, or looſe, the light of worlde by death. ME. What Ioue vnto his ſeely Babes is deeply graft in him? This worketh well I haue him tript, loe now there lyeth brim. An open place whereby receaue a venny ſoone hee may. Let mee or I departe, vnto my ſeely children ſay. Theſe leſſons of my laſt adewe, and graunt to mee the ſpace, With tender grype of colling laſt theyr louing limmes t'embrace: This wilbe comforte to my heart: yet at the latter woorde I aſke no more but onely that you ſhoulde mee this afoorde. If eger anguiſh cauſe my tongue to caſt out woords vnkinde, Let all thing fly, let nothing be engraued in your minde But let remembraunce otherwhyle of mee to touch your thought, Let other thinges be wypte away that byle of wrath hath wrought. IA. I haue forgotten euery whit God graunt thou may of ſhake, Theſe ſurging qualmes of frounced minde & milder mayſte it make: For quietneſſe doth worke theyr eaſe that dented are with woe: ME. What is he ſlily ſlypt and gon? falles out the matter ſo? O Iaſon doſt thou ſneake away, not hauing minde of mee, Nor of thoſe former great good turnes that I haue done for thee? With thee now am I cleane forgot: but I will bryng about That from thy carefull ſighing minde ſhall not bee baniſht out: Apply to bring this to effect, call home thy wits agayne, And all thy wyly fetches farre, eache artificiall trayne. This is the perfect fruict that may to thee of miſchiefe ſpryng, To preſuppoſe that miſchiefe is not graft in any thing. Scant haue I oportunity for my pretenſed guile, Becauſe wee are miſtruſted ſore: but try I will the whyle To ſet vpon them in ſuch ſort, as none can deeme my ſleyght: March forth, now venture on, fall to, both what lyeth in thy myght. And alſo what doth paſſe thy power. O faythfull nourſe and mate Of all my heauy heart breaking, and dyuers curſed fate. Come help our ſimple meane deuice. Remayning yet I haue A robe of Pall the preſent that our heauenly Graundſire gaue, Chiefe monument of Cholchis Ile, which Phoebus did beſlow On Aetas for a pledge, that him his father he might know. A precious fulgent gorget eake, that brauely glytters bryght, And with a ſeemely ſhyning ſeame of golden thryds is dight, Through wrought betwene the row of pirles doe ſtand in borders roūd, Wherewith my golden criſpen Locks is wonted to be croūd. My lytle children they ſhall beare theſe preſents to the Bryde, That firſt with ſlibber ſlabbar ſoſſe of chauntments ſhalbe tryde. Requeſt the ayde of Hecate in redineſſe prepare The lamentable ſacrifice, vpon the bloudy Aare. Enforce the fiers catching holde vpon the rafters hye With crackling noyſe of flamy ſparkes rebound in azur ſky. Chorus. NOffers force, nor rūbling rage of boiſtrus bluſtring winde, No dart ſhot whirling in the ſkies, ſuch terrour to y minde Can driue, as when y ireful wife doth boile in burning hate D priued of her ſpouſall bed, and comfort of her mate, Nor where the ſtormy ſoutherne winde with dankiſh dabby face, Of hoary winter ſendeth out the guſſhing ſhowres apace. Where veighment Iſters waumbling ſtreame comes waltring downe amayne, Forbidding both the banks to meete, & cannot oft contayne Him ſelfe within his channels ſcoupe, but further breakes his way, Nor Rodanus whoſe ruſſhing ſtreame doth launch into the ſea, Or when amid the floured ſpring with hotter burning ſunne, The winters ſnowes diſolude with heate downe to the ryuers runne: The clottred top of Haemus hill to water thin doth turne, Such deſperate gogin flame is wrath that inwardly doth burne, And modeſt rule regardeth not, nor brydeis can abyde, Nor dreading death, doth wiſh on dinte of naked blade to ſlyde. O Gods be gratious vnto vs, for pardon we do craue, That him who tamde the ſcuffling waues, vauchſafe yee would to ſaue. But Neptune yet the Lord of Seas with frowning face will lower, That ouer his ſecond Scepter men to tryumph haue the power. The boy that raſhly durſt attempt that great vnweldy charge Of Phoebus euerlaſting Carte, and rouing out at large, Not bearing in his reckleſſe breaſt his fathers warnings wyſe, Was burned with the flames which hee did ſcatter in the Skyes. None knew the coſtly glimſing glades, where ſtraggling Phaëton rode, Paſſe not the path, where people ſafe in former tyme haue trode. O fondling, wilfull, wanton boy, doe not diſſolue the frame Of heauen, ſith Ioue with ſacred hand hath halowed the ſame. Who rowde with valiaunt Oares tough, that were for Argo made, Hath powled naked Pelion mounte of thycke compacted ſhade. Who entred hath the fleeting rockes and ſerched out the toyle And tyring trauels of the ſeas, and hath on ſaluage ſoyle Knit faſt his ſtretched Cable rope, and going forth to land. To cloyne away the forren golde with greedy ſnatching hand. Vnto the ſeas (becauſe that hee tranſgreſt theyr lawes deuine) By this vnlucky ende of his, he payes his forfeyte fine. The troubled ſeas of theyr vnreſt for vengeaunce howle and weepe. Syr Typhis who did conquer fyrſt the daunger of the deepe, Hath yeelded vp the cunning rule of his vnweldy ſterne, To ſuch a guide, as for that vſe hath neede as yet to learne. Who giuing vp his Ghoſt aloofe from of his natiue lande, In forreyn more lyes buryed vile with durty ſoddes in ſande. He ſits among the flitiring ſoules that ſtraungers to him weare. And Aulis Iſle that in her minde her maſters loſſe doth beare, Held in the Ships, to ſtand and wayle in croking narrow nocke: That Orpheus Calliops ſonne who ſtayde the running Brooke, Whyle he recordes on heauenly Harpe with twanckling finger ſine, The wynde layde downe his pipling blaſtes: his harmony diuine Procurde the woods to ſtyr them ſelues, and trees in traynes along Came forth with byrds that held their layes and liſtned to his ſong. With lims on ſunder rent in fielde of Thrace he lyeth dead. Vp to the top of Heber floude, eke haled was his head. Gone downe he is to Stygian dampes, which ſeene hee had before, And Tartar boyling pits, from whence returne hee ſhall no more. Alcydes banging hat did bringe the Northern laddes to grounde. To Achelo of ſundry ſhapes he gaue his mortall wounde. Yet after he could purchaſe peace both vnto ſea and land, And after Ditis dungeon blacke rent open by his hand, He lyuing ſpred himſelfe along on burning Oetas hill: His members in his proper flame the wretch did thruſt to ſpill: His bloud he brewd with Neſtors bloud, and loſt his lothſome lyfe By traytrous gyft that poyſoned ſhyrt receaued of his wyfe. With tuſke of briſtled groyning Bore Anceus lyms were torne. O Meleagar (wicked wight) to graue by thee were borne Thy mothers brethren twayne, and ſhee, for it with ruthfull hand, Hath wrought thy dolefull deſteny, to burne thy fatall brand. The raſh attempting Argonantes deſerued all the death That Hylas whom Alcides loſt bereft of fading breath. That ſpringall which in ſowſing waues of waters drowned was: Goe now yee luſty bloudes, the Seas: with doubtfull lot to paſſe. Though Idmon had the calking ſkyll of deſtentes before, The ſerpent made him leaue his lyfe in tombe of Liby ſhore. And Mopſus that to other men could well theyr fates eſcry, Yet onely did deceyue him ſelfe vncertayne where to dy, And he that could the ſecret hap of things to come vnfoulde, Yet dyde not in his counrey Thebes. Dame, Theris huſband oulde Did wander like an outlawde man Our Palimedes ſyre Did headlong whelm him ſelfe in ſeas. Who at the Greekes retyre From Troy, to ruſhe on rockes did them alure with wily light, Stout Aiax Oleus did ſuſtayne the dint of thunder bright, And cruell ſtorme of ſurging ſeas, to quite the haynous guilt, That by his countrey was commit, in ſeas he lyeth ſpilt. Alceſte to redeeme her huſbands Phereus lyfe from death, The godly Wyfe vpon her ſpouſe beſtowed her panting breath. Proude Pelias that wretch him ſelfe who bad them firſt aſſay The golden Fleece that booty braue by ſhip to fetch away, Perboylde in glowing cauldron hoate with feruent heate hee fryes, And fleering peece meale vp and downe in water thin he lyes. Inough, inough, reuenged are O Gods the wronges of ſeas, Be good to Iaſon, doing that hee did, his Eame to pleaſe.
THE FOVRTH ACTE. Nutrix. MY ſhiuering minde amazed is, agaſt, and ſore diſmayde: My chilliſh lims with quaking colde do tremble all afrayde, Such plagu s & vengeāce is at hand, in what exceding wiſ Do ſharp aſſaults of greedy griefe ſtill more & more ariſe, And of it ſelfe in ſmothering breaſt enkindleſſe greater heate? Oft haue I ſeene how ramping rage hath forced her to freate. With franticke fits, mad, bedlem wiſe, againſt the Gods to rayle, And eke bewitched ghoſts of heauen in plunging plagues to trayle: But now Medea beates her buſie brayne to bring to paſſe A myſchiefe greater, greater farre, then euer any was. Erewhile when hence ſhe tript away aſtoniſhed ſo ſore, And of her poyſon cloſſet cloſe ſhee entred had the dore: Shee powreth out her Iewels all, abrode to light ſhee brings That which ſhe dreading athed long moſt irkſome vgly things: She mumbling coniures vp by names of ills the rable rout, In hugger mugger cowched long, kept cloſe, vnſerched out: All peſtlent plagues ſhe calles vpon, what euer Libie lande, In frothy boyling ſtream doth worke, or muddy belching ſande: What tearing torments Taurus breedes, with ſnowes vnthawed ſtill Where winter flawes, and hory froſt knit hard the craggy hill, She layes her croſſing hands vpon each monſtrous coniurde thing, And ouer it her magicke verſe with chat ming doth ſhe ſing: A mowſte, rowſte, ruſty route with cancred Scales Iclad From muſty, fuſty, duſty dens where lurked long they had, Doe craull: a wallowing ſerpent huge, his cōbrous Corps out drags, In fiery foming blaring mouth his forked tongue hee wags. He ſtares about with ſparkling eyes, if ſome he might eſpy, Whom ſnapping at with ſtinging ſpit he might conſtrayne to dy: But hearing once the magycke verſe he huſht as all a gaſt, His body boalne big, wrapt in lumps on twining knots hee caſt. And wambling to and fro his tayle in linkes he rowles it round. Not ſharp enough (quoth ſhe) the plagues & tooles that hollow groūd Engenders for my purpoſe are, to heauen vp will I call, To reach me ſtronger poyſon down, to frame my feate with all. Now is it at the very poynt, Medea thou aſſay, To bring about ſome farther fetch, then common Witches may. Let downe, let downe, that ſprawling Snake that doth his body ſpred, As doth a running brooke abroade his myghty channell ſ ed. Whoſe ſwelling knobs of wondrous •• ſe & buyſtrous bobbing bumpes Doth thumpe the great & leſſer beare that feete his heauy lumpes. The bygger beare with golden gleede the greekiſh fleete doth guyde: But by the leſſe the Sidon ſhips their paſſage haue eſpide. He that with pinch of griping fiſt doth bruſe the adders twayne, His ſtrening hard & claſping hande, let him vnknit agayne. And cruſhe their ſqueaſed venome out, come further thou our charme O flymy ſerpent Python, whom Dame Iuno ſent to harme Diana, and Apollo both, (thoſe heauenly ſpyrites twayne) With whom Latona traueling did grone with pynching payne. O Hydra whom in Lerna poole Alcides gaue the foyle, And all the noyſome vermen vyle that Hercules did ſpoyle. Which when on ſunder they were cut with ſlyſing deadly knyfe, Can knit agayne their ſodred partes, and ſo recouer lyfe. Help wakefull Dragon Argos, whom firſt magicke wordes of myne Made Morpheus locke thy ſleepy liddes, and ſhut thy ſlugring eyne. Then hauing brought aboue the ground of Serpents all the rout, Of filthy weedes the ranckeſt bane ſhee pyckes, and gathers out, That ſpryng on knotty Eryx hill where paſſage none is founde, Among the ragged Rockes, or what on Caucaſus his grounde Doth grow that ſtill is clad in Coate of hoary moary froſt. That euermore vnmelt abydes, whoſe ſpattred fylde is ſoſte With gubbs of bloud, y ſpowteth from Prometheus gaping maw, Whoſe guts with twitching talent out the gaſtly gripe doth draw. Or any other venemous herbe amonge the Medes that growes, That with their ſheafe of arowes ſharp in field do ſcare their foes. Or what the light held Parthian to ſerue her turne can ſende, Or els the rych Arabians, that dyp theyr arrowes ende In poyſon ſtrong: the iuyce of all Medea out doth wrynge, That vnderneath the froſen poale in Svveuia land doth ſprynge. Whoſe noble ſtate Hircinus woode doth high enhaunce and reare Or what the pleaſaunte ſoyle doth yeelde in pryme of ſmiling veare, When nature byddes the byrd begin her ſhrowding neſt to builde, Or when the churlyſhe Boreas blaſt ſharpe winter hath exilde, The trym aray of braunche and bough to cloth the naked tree, And euery thinge with bitter coulde of Snowe congealed bee. In any peſtilent flower on ſtalke of any hearbe doth growe, Or noyſome iuyce doth lye in rotten wrythen rootes alowe, Hath any force in breading bane, thoſe takes ſhee in her hande. Some plaugy hearbes did Athos yeelde that mount of. Theſſayle lande. And other Pindus roches hye and ſome vppon the top Of Pingeus, but tender twigges the cruell Sythe did lop: Theſe Tigris ryuer noriſht vp, that choakes his whyrlpoale deepe With ſtronger ſtreame. Danubius thoſe in foſtring waue did keepe. Thoſe did Hidaſpus myniſter, who by the parching zone With lukewarme ſiluer channell runnes, ſo ryth with precious ſtone. And Bethis ſonne, who gaue the name vnto his countrey great, And with his ſhallowe oarde agaynſt the Spanyſhe ſeas doth beat This hearbe aboade the edge of knyfe in dawning of the day Ere Phoebus Face gan peepe, bedect with glittring goulden ſpray His ſlender ſtalke was ſuepped of in deepe of ſilent nyght, His corne was cropt, whyle ſhe wt charme her poyſned nayles did dight. Shee chops the deadly hearbes, & wrings the ſqueſed clottered bloud Of Serpentes out: and filthy byrdes of irkeſome miry mud: She tempers with the ſame and eake: ſhe brayes the heart of Owle Foreſhewing death with glaring Eyes, and moaping Vyſage foule, Of ſhryke Owle hoarce alyue ſhe takes the durty ſtinking guts, All theſe the framer of this feate in dyuers percels puts. This hath in it deuouring force of greedy ſpoyling flame, The froſen yſle dulling coulde engenders by the ſame. Shee chauntes on thoſe the magicke verſe, that workes no leſſer harme, With buſtling frantickely ſhee ſtampes, and ceaſeth not to charme. MEDEA. O Flittring Flockes of griſly. ghoſtes that ſit in ſilent ſeat O ougſome Bugges, O Gobblins grym of Hell I you intreat: O lowryng Chaos dungeon blynde, and dreadfull darkned pit, Where Ditis muffled vp in Clowdes of blackeſt ſhades doth ſit, O wretched wofull wawling ſoules your ayde I doe implore, That linked lye with gingling Chaynes on wayling Limbo ſhore, O moſſy Den where death doth couche his gaſtly carrayne Face: Releſſe your pangues, O ſpryghts, and to this wedding hye apace. Cauſe yee the ſnaggy wheele to pawſe that rentes the Carkas bound, Permit Ixions racked Lymmes to reſt vpon the ground: Let hungry bytten Tantalus wyth gawnt and pyned panche Soupe vp Pirenes gulped ſtreame his ſwelling thyrſt to ſtaunche. Let burning Creon yde the brunt aud gyrdes of greater payne, Let payſe of ſlyppery ſlyding ſtone type ouer backe agayne His moylyng Father Siſyphus, amonges the craggy Rockes. Yee daughters dyre of Danaus whom perced Pychers morckes So oft with labour loſt in vayne this day doth long for you That in your lyfe with bloudy blade at once your huſband ſlewe. And thou whoſe aares I honored haue, O torch and lampe of night, Approche O Lady myne with moſt deformed vyſage dight: O three folde ſhapē Dame that knitſt more threatning browes then one, According to the countrey guiſe with dagling locks vndone And naked foote, the ſecrete groue about I halowed haue, From duſky dry vnmoyſty cloudes the ſhowers of rayne I craue. Through me the chinked gaping ground the ſoked ſeas hath drunk. And mayner ſtreame of th'ocian floud beneath the earth is ſunk, That ſwelteth out through hollow gulph with ſtronger guſhing rage. Then were his ſuddy wambling waues whoſe power it doth aſſwage The heauens with wrong diſturbed courſe and out of order quight, The darkned ſonne, & glimmering ſtars at once hath ſhewed theyr light, And drēched Charles his ſtragling wayne hath ducie in daſſhing waue, The framed courſe of roaming time racte out of frame I haue. So my enchauntments haue it wrought, that when the flaming ſunne In ſommer bakes the parched ſoyle then hath the twigges begunne, With ſprowting bloſſom freſh to blome, and haſty winter corne Hath out of harueſt ſeene the fruite to barnes on ſudde borne. Into a ſhallowe foorde his ſture diſtreame hath Phaſi waſt, And Iſters channell being in ſo many braunches caſt, Aba ed hath his wrackfull waues, on euery ſilent ſhore He lyeth calme: The tumbled flouds with thundring noyſe did rore, When couched clo •• the winde were not mouing pippling ſoft, With working waue the prauncing ſeas haue ſwolne & leapt aloft, Whereas the wood in alder time with thicke and braunched bowe Di ſpread his ſhade on gladſome ſoyle no ſhade remayneth now. I rolling vp the magicke verſe at noone time Phoebus ſtay, Amyd the darkned Sky, when fled was light of drowſy day. Eke at my charme the watry flockes of Heyaeds went to glade. Time is it Phoeba to reſpect the ſeruice to thee made: To the with cruell bloudy hands theſe garlands greene were twynde Which with his folding circles nyne the ſerpent rough did bynde. Haue here Tiphoias fleſhe, that doth in Aetnas Foruace grone, That ſhoke with baitery violent king Ioues aſſaulted trone. This is the Centaures poyſoned bloud which Neſſus villayne vyle Who made a rape of Dianire entending her to fyle, Bequethed her when newly wounde he gaſping lay for breath, While Hercles ſhaft ſtack in his Ribs, whoſe laūce did worke his death: Beholde the Funerall cinders heere which vp the poyſon dryed Of Hercules who in his fyre on Oeta mountayne dyed: Loe heere the fatall brand, which late the fatall ſiſters three Conſpyred at Meleagers byrth, ſuch ſhould his deſ ny bee, To ſaue alyue his brethyng corpes, while that might whole remayne, Which ſaufe his mother Althe kept, till he his vncles tw yne, (That from Atlanta would haue had the head of co quered Bore,) Had reft of ly e whoſe ſpightfull death Althea tooke ſo ſore, That both ſhe ſhewed her feruentneſſe in ſyſters godly loue, When to reuenge her brothers death meere nature did her moue, But yet as mother moſt vnkynde, of nature moſt vnmylde, To haſten the vntymely graue of her beloued chylde, Whyle Meleagers fatall brande ſhe waſted in the flame, Whoſe ſwelting guts and bowels moult conſumed as the ſame, Theſe plumes the Harpyes rauening fowles for haſt did leaue behinde, In hidden hole whoſe cloaſe acceſſe no mortall wight can fynd. When faſt from Zethes chaſing them with ſpeedy flight they fled. Put vn o theſe the fethers which the S ymphal byrde did ſhed, Whom duſkyng Phoebus dymned lyght ſyr Hercules did ſtynge, And galied with the ſhafte, that he in Hydraes hyde did flynge. You Aares haue yeelde a clattring noyſe I knowe, I knowe of olde, How vnto mee my Oracles are wonted to bee toulde, That when ye trem l ng flowre doth ſhake then hath my Goddes great, Vouchſafe to graunt mee my requeſt as I did her intreate, I ſee Dianas waggon ſwife, not that whereon ſhee glydes, When all the night in darkned Sky with Face full ope ſhee rydes: With countnaunce bright and blandiſhing but when with heauy cheare, With duſky ſhimmering wanny globe, her lampe doth pale appeare. Or when ſhee trots bout the heauens wyth horſecheade rayned ſtrayte, When Theſſayle Witches with 〈◊〉 threats of charming her doe bayte. So with thy dumpiſh dulled blaſe, thy cloudy faynting l ght, Sende out, amid the lowring ſky, the heart of people ſmyght Wyth agonies of ſuddeyne dread, in ſtraung and fearfull wyſe, Compell the pretious braſen pannes with iarri g noyſe to ryſe Through Corinth countrey uery where, to ſhielde the frō t ie harme, Leaſt headlong rawne thou be from heauen to earth by force of charme. An holy ſolempne ſacryfice to worſhip thee wee make, Imbrewed with a bloudy turphe the kindled Torche doth take Thy ſacred burning night fyre at the dampiſhe mory graue. Sore charged with thy troubled ghoſt my head I ſhaken haue, And ducking downe my Necke alowe wt ſhryking lowde haue ſhrigh And groueling flat on floore in traunce haue lyen in deadmans plight. My ruffled Lockes about myne eares downe dagling haue ben bownd. Tuckt vp about my temples twayne with gladſome garland crownde A drery braunche is offred thee from filthy Stigis flood. As is the guiſe of Bacchus prieſtes the Coribanthes wood, With naked breaſt and dugges layde out Ile pricke with ſacred blad Myne arme, that for the bubling bloude an iſſue may bee made, With trilling ſtreames my purple bloude let drop on Th'aulter ſtones. My tender Childrens cruſſhed fleſhe, and broken brooſed bones Lerne how to brooke with hardned heart: in practiſe put the trade To floriſhe fearce, and keepe a coyle, with naked glittring blade: I ſprinkled holy water haue, the launce once being made, If tyred thou complayneſt that my cryes thee ouerlade, Giue pardon to my erneſt ſuite, O Perſeus ſiſter deare, Still Iaſon is the onely cauſe that vrgeth mee to reare With ſqueking voyce thy noyſome beames, that ſting like ſhot of bo So ſeaſon thou thoſe ſawced robes to worke Creuſas woe, Whert with when ſhee ſhall pranke her ſelfe the poyſon by and by To rot her inward mary out, within her bones may fry, The ſecret fyer bleares their eyes with gloſſe of yeallow golde, The which Prometheus gaue to mee that fyer fylcher bolde. On whom for robbery that he did in heauens aboue commit, With maſſy payſe great Caucaſus th'unweldy hill doth ſit. Where vnder with vnwaſted wombe he lyes, and payes his payne, To feede the crāming foule with gubs of guts that growes agayne. He taught mee with a prety ſleyght of conning, how to hyde The ſtrength of fyer cloſe kept in, 〈◊〉 may not be eſpyde, This lyuely tinder Mulciber hath forged for my ſake, That tempred is with brymſtone quick at fyrſt touch and take. Eke of my Coſen Phaëton a wyldefyer flake I haue His flames the monſtrous ſtaghard rough Chimera to mee gaue, In head and breaſt a Lyon grim, and from the Rump behynde He ſweepes the flower with lagging Tayl of Serpent fearce by kynde In Rybbes, and Loynes along his paunche yſhaped lyke a Goate. Theſe Fumes that out the Bull perbrakte from fyry ſpewinge throat I gotten haue and brayde it with Meduſas bitter gall Commaunding it in ſecret ſorte to duſke and co er all: Breath on theſe venoms Heca e with deadly myght inſpyre, Preſerue the touching poulder of my ſecret couert fyre, O graunt that theſe my cloked craftes ſo may bewitch theyr Eyes, That lykelyhoode of treaſon none they may heerein ſurmyſe: So worke that they in handling it may feele no kynde of heate: Her ſtewing breaſt, her ſeathing vaynes, let ſeruent fyer freate And force her roſted pyning lymmes, to drop and melt away, Let ſmoke her rotten broyling bones: enflame this bryde to day To caſt a lyght with gr ater gleede on fryſeled blaſing heare Then is the ſhyning flame that doth the wedding torches beare. My ſuite is harde, thryſe Hecare a dreadfull barking gaue From dolefull cloude a ſacred flaſh of flamy ſparkes ſhee draue. Eche poyſons pryde fulfilled is: call forth my chyldren deare, By whom vnto the curſed Bryde theſe preſentes you may beare: Goe forth, goe forth my lytle Babes, your mothers curſed fruite, Goe, goe, employ your paynes with brybe and earneſt humble ſuite To purchaſe grace, and eke to earne you fauour in her ſight. That both a mother is to you, and rules with Ladies might. Goe on, apply your charge apace, and hye you home agayne, That with embracing you I may my laſt farewell attayne. Chorus. WHat ſharpe aſſaultes of cruell CVPIDS flame Wyth gyddie heade thus toſſeth to and froe, This bedlem Wyght, and diuelyſh deſpret dame What rouing rage her pricks to worke this woe? Rough rancours vile congeales her froſen face, Her hawty breaſt bumbaſted is vvyth pryde, Shee ſhakes her heade, ſhee ſtalkes vvyth ſtately pace. Shee threates our king more then doth her betyde. Who would her deeme to bee a baniſht wyght, Whoſe ſkarlet Cheekes doe glowe with roſy red? In faynting Face, with pale and wanny whyght The ſangayne hewe exyled thence is fled Her chaunging lookes no colour longe can holde. Her ſhifting feete ſtill trauaſſe to and froe. Euen as the fearce and rauening Tyger olde That doth vnware his ſucking whelpes forgoe, Doth rampe, and rage, moſt eger ferce and wood, Among the ſhrubs and buſſhes that doe growe On Ganges ſtronde that golden ſanded flood, Whoſe ſiluer ſtreame through India doth flowe. Euen ſo MEDEA ſometime vvantes her wits To rule the rage of her vnbrydeled ire, Nowe VENVS Sonne, wyth buſie froward fits, Nowe Wrath, and Loue enkyndle both the fire. What ſhall ſhee doe? when will this heynous wyght With forwarde foote bee packing hence away, From Greece? to eaſe our Realme of terrour quight, And prynces twayne whom ſhe ſo ſore doth fray: Nowe Phoebus lodge thy Charyot in the Weſt, Let neyther Raynes, nor Brydle ſtay thy Race, Let groueling light with Dulceat nyght oppreſt In cloking Cloudes wrapt vp his muffled Face, Let Heſperus the loadeſman of the nyght, In Weſtern floode drench deepe the day ſo bryght.
THE FIFTH ACTE. Nuntius. Chorus. Nutrix. Medea. Iaſon. ALl things are topſy turuy turnde, and waſted cleane to nought. To paſſing great calamity our Kingdome State is brought. The Syre, and Daughter burnt to duſt in blendred Cynders lye. C. What trayne hath them entrapt? Nū. Such as are made for Kinges to dye, Falſe traitrous gifts. C. What priuy guile could wrapped be in thoſe? Nū. And I doe meruayle at this thing and ſkant I can ſuppoſe That ſuch a miſchiefe might be wrought by any ſuch deuice Ch. Report how this deſtruction and ruine ſhould aryſe Nū. The fyzzing flame moſt egerly doth ſcoure with ſweeping ſway Eache corner of the Prynces court, as though it ſhould obay. Commaunded therevnto ſo flat on flowre the Pallace falles: Wee are in dread leaſt further it will take the towniſhe walles. Ch. Caſt quenching water on it then to ſlake the greedy flame. Nū. And this that ſeemeth very ſtraunge doe happen in the ſame, The water feedes the fier faſt, the more that wee doe toyle It to ſuppreſſe, with hotter rage the heate begins to boyle: Thoſe thinges that wee haue gotten for our help it doth enioy. Nut. Medea thou that doeſt ſo ſore king Pelops lande anoy, Twine hence in haſt thy forwarde foote, at all aſſayes depart To any other kinde of coaſte. Me. Can I finde in my hart To ſhun this lande? if hence I had firſt falne away by flight, I would haue traueled backe agayne, to gaſe at ſuch a ſight. To ſtande and ſee this weddiug new, why ſtayſt thou doting mynde? Apply, apply, thy ſore attempt, that good ſucceſſe doth finde. What great exployt is this, that thou of vengeaunce doſt enioy? Still art thou blynded witleſſe wench with vale of Venus boy? Is this ſuffiſaunce for the griefe? is roote of rancour ded, If Iaſon leade a ſingle lyfe in ſolitary bed? Some netling, thorny, ſtinging plagues vnpractiſed deuiſe: Prepare thy ſelfe in redines and fall to on this wyſe: Let all bee fiſhe that commes to Net, haue no reſpect of ryghte, From mynde on miſchiefe fixed faſt let ſhame be vaniſht quyte: The vengeaunce they receaued at my lytle chyldrens hand, Is nothing worth: in earneſt ire ententiue muſt thou ſtand. When heate of wrath begins to coole, cheere vp thy ſelfe agayne: Rayſe vp thoſe touches olde that wonted were in thee to raygne, That buried deepe in breaſt doe lye: and as for all the ſame That yet is wrought: Of godlineſſe let it vſurpe the name: Doe this, and I ſhall teach them learne, what tryfling caſt it was, And common practiſde flimflam trick that erſt I brought to paſſe. By this my raging malady a preamble hath made, To ſhew what howgier heapes of harmes ſhall ſhortly them inuade What durſt my rude vnſkilfull hand aſſay that was of wayght? Wha could the mallice of a Gyrle inuent her foes to bayte? Still conuerſaunt with wicked feates Medea am I made. My blunt and dulled braynes hath ſo ben beate about this trade. O ſo I ioy, I ioy, that I ſmote of my brothers head, And ſlaſht his members of: eake that from parents had I fled: And filched haue the priuy fleece, loe Mars that ſacred was. It glads my heart that I to bring olde Pelias death to paſſe: Haue ſet his daughters all on worke: O griefe picke out a way Not any guilt thou ſhalt with vnacquainted hand aſſay Againſt whom wrath entendeſt thou to bend thyne Irefull might? Or with what weapon doſt thou meane thy trayterous foes to ſmight? I know not what my wrathfull minde conſulted hath within, And to be wray it to himſelfe, I dare not yet begin. O raſh and vnaduiſed foole, I make to haſty ſpeede: O that my Foe had gotten of his Harlots body Seede: But what ſo euer thou by him enioyeſt, ſuppoſe the ſame To bee Creuſas Babes, of them let her enioy the name. This vengeaunce, this doth like mee well good reaſon is there, why, The laſt attempt of i s, thou muſt with ſtomacke ſtout apply. A as yee litle ſeely fooles that erſt my children were, The plaguing price of Fathers fault ſubmit your ſelues to beare. O, horrour huge with ſodayne ſtroke my heart doth ouercom: With ycie dulling colde congealde my Members all benun . My ſhiuering lims appauled ſore for gaſtly feare doe quake, And baniſht rage of malice hoate begins it ſelfe to ſlake: The hatefull heart of wife agaynſt her Spouſe hath yeelded place, And pitious mothers mercy milde reſtoreth natures face. O ſhall I ſhed their guiltleſſe bloude? ſhall I the frame vnfoulde Of that, which louing natures hande hath wrought in me her moulde? O doting fury chaunge thy minde, conceiue a better thought, Let not this haynous ſauage deede by meanes of mee be wrought. What cryme haue they (poore fooles) cōmit, for which they ſhould abye? Vpon theyr Father Iaſon right all blot of blame ſhould lye. Medea yet theyr Mother I am worſer farre then hee. Tuſh let them frankly goe to wracke no kith nor kin to mee They are: diſpatch them out of hand: holde, holde, my babes they be God wot, moſt harmeleſſe lambes they are, no crime nor fault haue they Alas they bee mere innocents, I doe not this denay: So was my brother whom I ſlew: O falſe reuolting mynde, Why doſt thou ſtaggring to and fro ſuch chaunge of fancies fynde? Why is my Face be ſprent with teares, what makes mee falter ſo, That wrath & loue with ſtriuing thoughts doe leade mee to and fro? Such fighting fancies bickringe ſtormes my ſwaruing minde detarre, As when betwene the wreſtling windes is rayſed wrangling warre, Eche where the tumbling wallowing waues, are hoyſt and reared hye Amid the iuſtling ſwolues of ſeas, that hot in fury frye: Euē ſo my hart with ſtrugling thoughts now ſinks, now ſwells amaine, Wrath ſometyme chaſeth vertue out, and vertue wrath agayne. O yeelde thee, yeelde, a griſing griefe, to vertue yeelde thy place: Thou onely comforte of our ſtocke in this afflicted caſe, Come heather, come deere loued Impe, with colling mee imbrace, Whyle that by me your mother deere ſweete Boyes yee are enioyed, So long God graunt your Father may you kepe from harme vncloyed. Exile and flight approach on mee, and they ſhall by and by Be pulde perforce out of myne armes, with vapourde weeping Eye, Sore languiſhing with mourning heart, yet let them goe to graue Before their fathers Face, as they before their mothers haue: Now rancorus griefe, with firy fits begins to boyle agayne, The quenched coales of deadly hate do freſſher force attayne. The ruſty rancour harbred long within my cancred breſt Starts vp, and ſtirres my hand anew in miſchiefe to bee preſt. O that the rablement of brats which ſwarmde aboute the ſyde Of Niobe that ſcornefull Dame, who periſht by her pryde Had taken lyfe out of his lymmes, O that the fates of heauen A fruictfull mother had me made of chyldren ſeuen and ſeuen. My barreyne wombe for my reuenge hath yeelded litle ſtore: Yet for my ſ re and brother, twayne I haue, there needes no more: Whom ſeeke this rufflyng rowt of Feendes with gargell Viſage dight Where will they deale theyr ſtripes, or whō with whips of fier ſmight? Or whom with cruell ſcorching brande and Stygian faggot fell, With miſchief great to cloy, entendes this army black of hell? A chopping Adder gan to hiſſe with wrethings wrapped rounde, As ſoone as did the laſſhing whyp flerte out with yerking ſounde. Whom bumping with thy rapping poſt Megaera wilt thou cruſh? Whoſe ghoſt doth heare miſhapt from hell with ſcatered members ruſh? My ſlaughtred brothers ghoſt it is that vengeaunce coms to craue: According to his dyre requeſt due vengeaunce ſhall hee haue. But flap thou fearce the fierbrandes full daſſahed in myne Eyes, Dig, rent, ſcrape, burne, and ſqueas them out, loe ope my breaſt it lyes, To fighting furies bobbing ſtrokes, O brother, brother bid Theſe royles, that preaſſe to worrey mee, them ſelues away to rid. Dawne to the ſ lent ſoules alowe not taking any care: Let mee be left heare by my ſelfe alone, and doe not ſpare, To baſt, and capperclaw theſe armes that drewe the bloudy blade: To quench the furies of thy ſprite, that thus doe mee inuade, With this right hand the ſacrifice on thaulter ſhalbe made. What meanes this ſudden trampling noyſe? a band of men in Armes Come buſtling towarde vs, that mee will cloy with deadly harmes. To ende this ſlaughter ſet vpon I will my ſelfe conuay Vp to the garrets of our houſe, come Nurce with me away, Beſtow thy body hence with mee from daunger of our foes. Now thus my mynde on miſchiefe ſet thou muſt thy ſelfe diſpoſe, Let not the flickering fame and prayſe in darkeneſſe bee exilde Of ſtomack ſtout, that you did vſe in murthering of thy childe. Proclaime in peoples eares the prayſe of cruell bloudy hand. IA. If any faythfull man here bee, whom ruine of his land, And ſlaughter of his Prynce doe cauſe in penſ ue heart to bleede, Step forth that yee may take the wretch that wrought this deadly deede. Heere, heere, yee ioly champions lay loade with weapons heere, Haue now, hoyſt vp this houſe, from low Foundacion vp it reare. ME. Now, now my Scepter guilt I haue recouered once agayne: My Fathers wronges reuenged are, and eke my brother ſlayne: The gouldens cattels Fleece returnde is to my natiue land, Poſſeſſion of my realme I haue reclaymed to my hand: Come home is my virginity, that whilom went aſtray. O Gods as good as I coulde wiſſhe, O ioyfull wedding day, Goe ſhrowde thy ſelfe in darkneſſe him, diſpacht I haue this feate: Yet vengeaunce is not done inough, to coole our thriſty heate. O ſoule why doſt thou make delay? Why doſt thou doubting ſta de? Goe foreward with it yet thou mayſt, whyle doing is thy hande: The wrath that might ſhould myniſter doth qualefy his flame: The pryckes of ſorrow twitch my heart attaynt with bluſſhing ſhame: Through rygour of thy heynous gore, O wretch, what haſt thou done? Though I repent a caityfe vile I am, to ſle a my ſonne: Alas I haue committed it, importunate delight, Still egged on my frowarde mynde that did againſt it fight: And loe the vayne coniect of this delight increaſeth ſtill, This onely is the thing, that wants vnto my wicked will, That Iaſons eyes ſhoulde ſee this ſight as yet I doe ſuppoſe, Nothing it is that I haue done, my trauell all I loſe, That I employde in dyry deedes, vnleſſe hee ſee the ſame. IA. Loe heere ſhee looketh out, and leanes vpon the houſes frame, That pitchlong hanges with falling ſway: heere heape your fiers faſt, Whereby the flames that ſhee her ſelfe enkindled, may her waſt. ME. Goe Iaſon, goe the obit rights the windinge ſheete and graue Make ready for thy ſonne, as laſt behoueth him to haue, Thy ſpouſe and eke thy father in lawe that are entomde by mee Receiued haue the dutyes that to deade mens ghoſtes agree. This childe hath felt the deadly ſtroke and launce of fatall knife, And this with waileſome murther like ſhall loſe her tender life. IA. By all the ſacred ghoſtes of heauen, and by thy oft exile, And ſpouſall bed, which breach of loue in mee did not defile, Now ſpare, and ſaue the life of him my childe and alſo thyne: What euer cryme committed is, I graunt it to be myne: Make mee a bloudy ſacrifice to dew deſerued death, Take from my ſinfull guilty head the vſe of vitall breath. ME. Nay ſith thou wilt not haue it ſo as greeues thy pynched minde, Heere way to wreck my vengeaunce fell, my burning blade ſhall finde. Auaunt, now hence thou peſaunt prowd employ thy buſy payne, To reape the fruites of virgins bed, and caſt them of agayne When mothers they are made. IA. Let one for dew reuenge ſuffice. ME. If greedy thyrſt of hungry handes that ſtil for vengeaunce cries. Myght quenched bee with bloude of one, then aſke I none at all, And yet to ſtaunche my hungry griefe the number is to ſmall, If onely twayne I ſlea, if pleadge of loue lye ſecrete made, My bowels Ile vnbreaſt, and ſearch my wombe with poking Blade. IA. Now finiſh out thy deadly deede, that enterpriſed is, No more entreataunce will I vſe, yet onely graunt mee this, Delay awhyle his dolefull death, that I may take my flyght. Leaſt that myne eyes wt bleeding hearte ſhould vew that heauy ſight. ME. Yet linger eger anguiſhe yet to ſlea this chylde of thyne. Ronne not to raſhe with haſty ſpeede, this dolefull day is myne: The time that wee obtayned haue of Greon, wee enioy. IA. O vile malitious mynded wretch my lothſome life deſtroy. ME. In crauing this thou ſpeakſt, that I ſhould ſhew thee ſome releefe, Well goodinough, all this is done: O ruthfull giddy greefe, This is the onely ſacrifice that I can thee prouide, Vnthankfull Iaſon hether caſt thy coyeſh lookes aſyde. Loe heare doſt thou beholde thy wyfe? thus euery wonted I, When murther I had made, to ſcape, my way doth open lye That I may ſpring into the ſkyes: the flying ſerpents twayne Subm ted haue theyr ſcaly Neckes to yoake of ratling wayne, Thon Father haue thy ſonnes agayne, I in the wandring Skye In nymble wheeled Waggon ſwyfte, will ryde aduaunced hye, IA. Goe through the ample ſpaces wyde, infect the poyſoned Ayre, Beare witneſſe, grace of God is none in place of thy repayre.
FINIS.
THE EYGHTH TRAGEDYE OF L. ANNAEVS SENECA, Entituled AGAMEMNON: Tranſlated out of Latin into Engliſhe, by IOHN STVDLEY. The Argument.

AGAMEMNON, Generall of that Noble Army of the Greekes, which after tenne yeares ſiege wāne Troy, cōmitted the entyer Gouernment of his Countrey & Kingdome (duringe his abſence) to his Wyfe CLYTEMNESTRA. Who forgetting all Wyuely loyalty, and Womanly chaſtity, fell in laweleſſe loue & vſed adulterus cōpany with AEGYSTHVS, ſonne to THYESTES, whom aforetime ATREVS being his owne naturall Brother, and Father to this AGAMEMNON, in reueng of a former adultry had, cauſed to eate hys owne two Children.

At length, vnderſtandinge by EVRYBATES, that Troy was wonnë, & that her huſbād AGAMEMNON was comming homewarde with a yonge Lady named CASSANDRA, daughter to king PRIAMVS: partly enraged with iealouſy, & diſdaine thereof, & partly loath to looſe the company of AEGYSTHVS her Coadulterer, practyzed with him how to murther her huſbande. Which accordingly they brought to paſſe: & not reſting ſo cōtented, they alſo put CASSANDRA to deth, impriſoned ELECTRA Daughter to AGAMEMNON, and ſoughte to haue ſlayne his Sonne ORESTES. Which ORESTES fleeing for ſauegard of his lyfe to on STROPHILVS, hys dead Fathers deare friend: was by him ſecretly kept a longe time, till at lenght, comming priuely into Mycene, and by his Syſters meanes cōducted where his Mother CLYTEMNESTRA and AEGYSTHVS were, in reuenge of his Fathers death, killed them both.

The Speakers names. THYESTES. CHORVS, CLYTEMNESTRA. NVTRIX. AEGISTHVS. EVRYBATES. A company of Greekes. CASSANDRA. AGAMEMNON. ELECTRA. STROPHILVS.
THE FIRST ACTE. THYESTES. DEpartinge from the darkned dens which Dicis low doth keepe, Loe heere I am ſent out agayne, from Tartar Dungeon deepe, Thyeſtes I, that wheather coaſt to ſhun doe ſtande in doubt, Th'internall fie des I fly, the foalke of earth I chaſe about. My conſcience lo abhors, that I ſhould heather paſſage make, Appauled ſore with feare and dread my trembling ſinewes ſhake: My fathers houſe, or rather yet my brothers I eſpy, This is the olde and antique porche of Pelops progeny. Here firſt the Greekes on prynces heads doe place the royall crowne, And heere in throne aloft they lye, that ietteth vp and downe, With ſtately Scepter in theyr hand, eake heere theyr courts doe ly, This is theyr place of banquetting, returne therefore will I. Nay: better were it not to haunt the lothſome Limbo lakes, Where as the Stygion porter doth aduaunce with luſty crakes His tryple gorge be hong with Mane ſhag hatry, ruſty blacke: Where xions Carkaſſe linked faſt, the whirling wheele doth racke, And rowleth ſtill vpon him ſelfe: where as full oft in vayne Much toyle is loſt, (the tottring ſtone down tumbling backe agayne) Where growing guts the greedy gripe do gnaw with rauening bits. Where parched vp with burning thirſt amid the waues he ſt s, And gapes to catch the flecting flood with hungry chaps beguilde, That payes his parnefull puniſhment, whoſe feaſt the Gods defilde: Yet that olde man ſo ſtept in yeares at length by trace of time, How great a part belonges to mee and portion of his crime? Account wee all the griſly ghoſtes, whom guilty founde of ill, The Gnoſian Iudge in Plutoes pyts doth roſſe in torments ſtill: Thyeſtes I in driery deedes will farre ſurmount the reſt, Yet to my Brother yelde I, (though I gorgde my bloudy breſt) And ſtuffed haue my pampred paunche euen with my chyldren three, That crammed lye within my Rybs and haue theyr Toumbe in mee, The bowels of my ſwallowed Babes, deuowred vp I haue, Nor fickle Fortune mee alone the Father doth depraue, But enterpryſing greater guilte then that is put in bre, To file my Daughters bawdy Bed, my luſt ſhee doth alure. To ſpeake theſe words I doe not ſpare, I wrought the haynous deede, That therefore I through all my ſtocke, might parent ſtill proceede. My Daughter driuen by force of Fates and deſtenyes deuyne, Doth breede younge bones, & lades her wombe wt ſinfull ſeede of myne. Loe, nature chaunged vpſide downe, and out of order tornde This myngle mangle hath ſhee made, (O fact to be forlornde) A Father and a Grandſyre loe, confuſedly I am, My daughters huſband both become, and Father to the ſame. Thoſe babes yt ſhould my Nephewes bee, when nature rightly runnes She being tumbled doth confounde, and mingle with my ſonnes. The chryſtall cleareneſſe of the day, and Phoebus beames ſo bryght, Are myxed with the foggy cloudes, and darkeneſſe dim of nyght. When wickednes had wearied vs, to late truce taken was, Euen when our deteſtable deedes were done and brought to paſſe. But valiaunt Agamemnon hee graund captayne of the Hoſte, Who bare the ſway among the Kinges, and ruled all the roſte, Whoſe flaunting Flag, and Banner braue, diſplayde in royall ſorte, A thouſand ſayle of ſowſing ſhips did garde to Phrygian parte, And with their ſwelling ſhatling ſayles the ſurging ſeas did hide That beateth on the bankes of Troy, and floweth by her ſide: When Phoebus Carte the Zodiack ten times had auer runne, And waſte the battred Walles doe lye of Troy deſtroyde and woonne, Returnde he is to yeelde his throate vnto his traytreſſe Wyfe. That ſhall with force of bloudy blade bereue him of his lyfe. The glytering Swerd, the hewing Axe, and wounding weapons moe, With bloud for bloud new ſet abroche ſhall make the floore to flow. With ſturdy ſtroke, and boyſtrous blow, of pithy Pollaxe geuen His beaten braynes are paſh abroade, his cracked Skull is reuen. Now myſchiefe marcheth on a pace, now falſhoode doth appeare, Now Butchers ſlaughter doth approche, and muriher draweth neare. In honour of thy natyue day Aegiſthus they prepare The ſollemne feaſt with uncketing and daynty tothſome fare. Fy, what doth ſhame abaſhe thee ſo, and cauſe thy courage quayle? Why doubts thy righthand what to doe? to ſmite why doth it fayle? What he forecaſting might ſuſpect, why ſhouldſt thou take aduyſe? Why freteeſt thou, demaunding if thou may it enterpryſe? Nay: if a mother it beſeeme, thou rather mayſt ſurmyſe. What now? how hapneth it that thus the ſm •• ing ſommers night, When Phoebus from Th'antipodes ſhoulde render ſonne the lyght, On ſudden chaung their turnes with nights that laſt and lynger longe, When wynters Boreas bitter blaſtes, doth puffe the trees amonge? Or what doth cauſe the glyding ſtarres to ſtay ſtill in the ſky? Wee wayght for Phoebus: to the Worlde bryng day now by and by. Chorus. O Fortune, that doſt fayle the great eſtate of kinges, On ſlippery ſliding ſeat thou placeſt lofty thinges And ſetſt on tottring ſort, where perils do abound Yet neuer kīgdome calme, nor quiet could be foūd: No day to Scepters ſure doth ſhine, that they might ſay, To morow ſhall wee rule, as wee haue done to day. One clod of croked care another bryngeth in, One hurly burly done, another doth begin: Not ſo the raging Sea doth boyle vpon the Sande, Where as the ſouthern winde that blowes in Afryck Lande, One Waue vpon another doth heape wyth ſturdy blaſt: Not ſo doth Euxine Sea, his ſwelling waues vp caſt: Nor ſo his belching ſtreame from ſhallow bottom roll, That borders hard vpon the yſyfroſen poall: Where as Bootes bryght doth twyne his Wayne about, And of the marble ſeas doth nothing ſtande in doubt. O how doth Fortune toſſe and tomble in her wheele The ſtaggring ſtates of Kynges, that readdy bee to reele? Fayne woulde they dreaded bee, and yet not ſetled 〈◊〉 When as they feared are, they feare, and lyue 〈◊〉 woe. The ſilent Lady nyght ſo ſweete to man and beaſt, Can not beſtow on them her ſafe and quiet reſt: Sleepe that doth ouercome and breake the bonds of griefe, It cannot eaſe theyr heartes, nor myniſter reliefe: What caſtell ſtrongly buylt, what bulwarke, tower, or towne, Is not by miſchyefes meanes, brought topſy turuye downe? What ramperd walles are not made weake by wicked warre? From ſtately courtes of Kings doth iuſtice fly afarre: In pryncely Pallaces, of honeſty the lore, And wedlocke vowe deuout, is ſet by lytle ſtore. The bloudy Bellon thoſe doth haunt with gory hand, Whoſe light and vaine conceipt in paynted pomp doth ſtand. And thoſe Erinnys wood turmoyles with frenſyes fits, That euer more in proud and hauty houſes ſits, Which ficle Fortunes hand in twinkling of an eye, From high and proude degre driues downe in duſt to lye. Although that ſkyrmiſhe ceaſe, no banners be diſplayed And though no wyles be wroughe, and pollecy be ſtayed, Downe payſed with theyr waight the maſſy things do ſinke, And from her burden doth vn •• able Fortune ſhrynke The ſwelling Sayles puft vp with gale of weſtren wynde, Doe yet myſtruſt thereof a rempeſt in theyr mynde: The threatning tops (that touch the cloudes) of lofty towres Bee ſoneſt payde, and bet with ſouth wynde rainy ſhowres: The darkeſome woode doth ſee his tough and ſturdy Oke, Well waynde in yeares to be cleane ouer thrown and broke: The lyhhtnings flaſhing flame out breaking in the Sky, Firſt lyghteth on the mounts, and hilles that are moſt hy. The bodies corpulent and of the largeſt ſyſe Are ryfeſt ſtyll to catch diſeaſes when they ryſe. When as the flocke to graſe, in paſture fat is put, Whoſe Necke is larded beſt his throate ſhall firſt be cut: What Fortune doth aduaunce and hoyſteth vp on hye, Shee lets it vp to all agayne more greeuouſly. The thinges of midle ſort, and of a meane degree, Endure aboue the reſt and longeſt dayes do ſee: The man of meane eſtate moſt happy is of all, Who pleaſed with the lot that doth to him befall, Doth ſayle on ſilent ſhore with calme and quiet tide, And dreads with bruiſed barge on ſwelling Seas to ryde: Nor launcing to the depe where bottom none is found, May with his rudder ſearch, and reach the ſhallow ground.
THE SECOND ACTE. Clytemneſtra, Nutrix O Drowſie oreaming doting ſoule, what commeth in thy brayne To ſeeke about for thy defence what way thou mayſt attayne? What ayels thy ſkittiſh waiward wits, to wauer vp and downe? The fitteſt ſhift preuented is, the beſt path ouergrowne Thou mighteſt once mayntayned haue thy wedlocke chamber chaſt, And eake haue ruld with maieſty, by fayth conioyned faſt: Now nurtures lore neglected is, all ryght doth clean decay Religion and dignity with faith are worne away: And ruddy ſhame with bluſhing cheekes ſo farre god wot is paſt, That when it would it cannot now come home againe at laſt. O let me now at randon runne with bridle at my will: The ſafeſt path to miſchiefe is by miſchiefe open ſtill Now put in practiſe, ſeeke aboute, ſearch out and learne to find The wylie traynes, and crafty guyles of wicked womankind: What any diueliſh trayterous dame durſt do in working woe, Or any wounded in her wits by ſhot of Cupids bowe. What euer rigorous ſtepdame could commit with deſperat hand, Or as the wench who flaming faſt by Venus poyſoning brand, Was driuen by leud inceſtuous loue in ſhip of Theſſail land, To f •• t away from Colchos yle, where Phaſis channel deepe. With ſtiuer ſtreame downe from the hylles of Armenie doth ſweepe. Get weapons good, get bylbowblades or temper poyſon ſtrong, Or with ſome yonker trudge from Grece by theft the ſeas along: Why doſt thou faynt to talke of theft, exile or pr ute flight? Theſe came by hap, thou therfore muſt on grea ter miſchiefe light. Nut. O worthy Oueene amonge the Greekes that beares the ſwinging ſway. And borne of Ledas royall bloud, what muttring doſt thou ſay? What fury fel inforceth thee, bereaued of thy wits. To rage and raue with bedlam braynes, to fret withfranticke fittes? Though madam thou do counſayle keepe, and not complayne thy caſe, Thyne anguiſh playn appeareth in thy pale and wanny face. Reueale therfore what is thy griefe, take leaſure good and ſtay, What reaſon could not remedy, oft cured hath delay. Clit. So grieuous is my careful caſe which plungeth me ſo ſore, That deale I cannot with delay, nor linger any more. The flaſhing flames and furious force of fiery feruent heate, Outraging in my boyling breſt, my burning bones doth beate: It ſuckes the ſappy marow out the iuice it doth conuay, It frets, it teares, it reuts, it gnaws, my guttes and gall away. Now feble feare ſtil egges mee on (with dolor beyng preſt) And cankred hate with thwacking thumpes doth bounce vpon my breſt The blynded boy that louers hartes doth reaue with deadly ſtroake, Entangled hath my linked mynd with leawd and wanton yoke: Refuſing ſtil to take a foyle, or cleane to be confound: Among theſe broyles, aud agonies my mynd beſeging round, Loe feble, weary, batred downe, and vnder trode ſhame, That wreſtleth, ſtriueth, ſtrugleth hard, and fighteth with the ſame. Thus am I driuen to diuers ſhores and beat frow banke to banke, And toſſed in the fomy floods that ſtriues with corage cranke. As when here wynd, and their the ſtreame when both their force wil try, From ſandes alow doth hoyſt and reare the ſeas with ſurges hye. The wal ring waue doth ſtaggeryng ſtand not weting what to do, But (houeryng) doubtes, whoſe furious force he beſt may yeld him to My kingdome therfore I caſt of, my ſceptor I forſake As anger, ſorrow, hope, me leade, that way I meane to take. At all aduenture to the ſeas I yeld my beaten Barge, At randon careles wil I runne, now wil I roue at large Whereas my mynde to fancy fond dath gad and runne aſtray, It is the beſt to chuſe that chaunce, and follow on that way. Nu. This deſprat dotage doth declare, and raſhnes rude and blynde, To chuſe out chaunce to be the guyde and ruler of thy mynd. Cli. He that is driuen to vtter pinch and furtheſt ſhift of all, What neede he doubt his doubtful lot or how his lucke befall? Nut. In ſilent ſhore thou ſayleſt yet thy treſpas we may hyde, If thou thy ſelfe detect it not, nor cauſe it be deſcryde. Cl. Alas it is more blaſd abroade, and further it is blowen, Then any cryme that euer in this princely court was ſowen. Nu. Thy former fait with penſiue hart and ſorrow thou deſt rew. And fondly yet thou goeſt about, to ſet abroch a newe, Cl. It is a very foliſhnes to kepe a meane therein. Nu. The thing he feares he doth augment who heapeth ſinne to ſinne. Cli. But fire and ſwoard to cure the ſame the place of ſalue ſupply. Nu. There is no man who at the firſt extremity wil trye. Cl. In working miſchiefe men do take the redieſt way they fynde. Nu. The ſacred name of wedlocke once reuoke and haue in mynd. Cli. Ten yeares haue I bene deſolate, and led a widowes life. Yet ſhall I entertayne a new my huſband as his wyfe? Nu. Conſider yet thy ſonne and heire whom he of thee begot. Cly. And eake my daughters wedding blaſe as yet forget I not. Achilles eke my ſonne in law to mynd I do not ſpare, How wel he kept his vow that he to me his mother ſware. Nu. When as our nauy might not paſſe by wynd nor yet by ſtreame, Thy daughters bloud in ſacrifyce their paſſage did redeme: Shee ſturd and brake the ſluggiſh ſeas, whoſe water ſtil did ſtand, Whoſe feble force might not hoyſe vp, the veſſels from the land. Cl. I am aſhamed here withal, it maketh me repyne. That Tyndaris (who from the Gods doth fecch her noble ligne Should geue the ghoſt t'aſſwage the wrath of Gods and them appeaſe, Wherby the Grekiſh nauy might haue paſſage free by ſeas. My grudging mynd ſtil harpes vppon my daughters wedding day, Whom he hath made for Pelops ſtock the bloudy raunſome pay. When as with cruel countenaunce embrewd with gory bloud, As at a wedding alter ſyde th'unpitiful parent ſtoodt, It erked Calchas woful hart, who did abhorre the ſame. His Oracle he rewd, and eke the backe reflicting flame O wicked aud vngracious ſtocke that winneſt il with yll, Tryumphing in thy filthy featse ncreaſyng leaudnes ſtill. By bloud we win the waueryng windes, by death wee purchaſe warre Nu. But by this meanes a thouſand ſhips at once releaſed are: Cly. With lucky fate attempt the ſeas did not the loſed rout? For Aulis Ile, th'ungracious fleete from port did tumble out: As with a lewde vnlucky hand the warre he did beginne, So Fortune fauored his ſucceſſe to thriue no more therin. Her loue as captiue holdeth him whom captiue he did take Not moued with the earneſt ſuite that could Achilles make, Of Phoebus prelat Sminthicall he did retayne the ſpoyle: When for the ſacred virgins loue his furious dreaſt doth boyle: Achilles rough and thundring threats could not him qualify. Nor he that doth direct the fates aboue the ſtarry ſkye. To vs he is an Augur iuſte, and keepes his promiſe due, But while he threats his captiue truls of word he is not true. The ſauage people fierce in wrath once might not moue his ſpright, Who did purloyne the kindled tentes with fyer blaſing bryght: When ſlaughter great on Greekes was made in moſt extreameſt fyght Without a foe he conquered, with leanes pines awaye, In lewd and wantōn chamber trickes he ſpends the idle day, And freſhly ſtill he fedes his luſt, leaſt that ſome other while His chamber chaſt ſhould want a ſtewes, that might the ſame defile. On Lady Briſes loue ag aine his fancy fonde doth ſtand, Whom he hath got, that wreſted was out of Achilles hand. And carnal copulation to haue he doth. not ſhame, Though from her huſbands boſome he hath ſnacht the wicked dame, Tuſhe, he that doth at Paris grudge, with wound but newly ſtroke Eflamd with Phrygian Prophets loue, his boyling breſt doth ſmoke. Now after Troyan boties braue, and Troy orewhelm'd he ſaw, Retourned he is a pryſoners ſpouſe, and Pryams ſonne in law. Now heart be bold, take corage good, of ſtomacke now be ſtowt, A field that eaſely is not fought, to pitch thou goeſt about. In practiſe miſchiefe thou muſt put, why hopſt thou for a day, While Priams daughter come from Troy in Grece do beare the ſway. But as for the poore ſely wreth, a wayteth at thy place Thy wyddow, virgyns, and Oreſt his fatherlyke in face, Conſyder theyr calamityes, to come, and cake their cares, Whom all the peril of the broyle doth threat in thy affayres. O curſed captiue, woful wretch why doſt thou loyter ſo? Thy little brats a ſtepdame haue whoſe wrath wil worke their wo . With gaſhing ſword (and if thou can none other way prouide), Nor thruſt it through anothers ribbes then launch thy gory ſyde, So murther twayne with brewed bloud, let bloud immixed be, And by deſtroying of thy ſelfe deſtroy thy ſpouſe with thee. Death is not ſawſt with ſoppes of Sorrow if ſome man els I haue, Whoſe breathleſſe corſe I wiſh to paſſe with me to deadly graue. Nu. Queene, brydle thyne affections, and wyſely rule thy rage, Thy ſwelling moode now mittigate, thy choller ake aſſwage. Way wel the wayghty enterpryſe that thou doſt take in hand, Tryumphant victor he retur es of mighty Aſia land Auenging Europes iniury with him he bringes away. The ſpoyles of ſacked Pargamy a huge and mighty pray. In bondage eake he leades the foalke of long aſſaulted Troy, Yet dareſt thou by pollecie attempt him to annoy? Whom with the dynt of glittring ſword Achilles durſt not harme, Although his raſh and deſperat dickes the froward Knight did arme: Nor Aiax yet more hardy man vp yelding vitall breath, Whom frantike fury fell enforſt to wound himſelfe to death: Nor Hector he whoſe onely life procurde the Greekes delay, And long in warre for victory enforced them to ſtay: Nor Paris ſhaft, whoſe conning hand with ſhot ſo ſure did ayme: Nor mighty Memnon ſwart and blacke, had power to hurt the ſame: Nor Xanthus flood, where to and fro deade carkaſſes did ſwimme, With armour hewd and therewith all ſome maymed broken limme: Nor Symois, that purple wawmes with ſlaughter died-doth ſteare. Nor Cygnus lilly whyte, the Sonne of fenny God ſo deare: Nor yet the muſteryng Thraſian hoſt: nor warlike Rheſus kinge: Nor Amazons, who to the warres did paynted Quiuers bring, And bare theyr hatches in their handes with Target and with ſhield, Yet had no powre with ghaſtly wound to foyle him in the field. Syth he ſuch ſcouringes hath eſcapt and plungde of perilles paſt Entendeſt thou to murther him returning home at laſt? And ſacred alters to prophane with ſlaughters ſo vnpure? Shal Greec thaduenger let this wronge long vnreuengde endure The grym and fearce coragious horſe, the battayles, ſhoutes, & cryes, The ſwelling ſeas which bruiſed barkes do dread when ſtormes aryſe, Behold the fieldes with ſtreames of bloud oreflòwne & depely dround, And al the cheualry of Troy in ſeruile bondage bounde, Which Greekes haue writ in regiſters. Thy ſtubborne ſtomacke byud, Suddue thy fond affections, and pacify thy mynde.
THE SECOND ACTE THE SECOND SCENE. AEgyſthus, Clytemneſtra. THe curſed tyme that euermore my mynd did moſt deteſt, The dayes that I abhorred haue and hated in my breaſt, Are come, are come, that myne eſtate wil bring to vtter wracke: Alas my hart why doſt thou fayle. and faynting flyeſt backe? What doſt thou meane at firſt aſſalte from armour thus to flye, Truſt this, the cruel Gods entend my doleful deſtenie, To wrap thee in with perils round and catch thee in a band? Endeuer drudge with all thy power their plagues for to withſtand: With ſtomacke ſtoute rebellious to fyre and ſword appeale Cli. It is no plague, if ſuch a death thy natiue deſtnies deale. Ae (O partners of my perils all begot of Leda thou) Direct thy doynges after myne, and vnto thee I vow. This droſel ſluggiſh ringleader, this ſtout ſtrong harted fire, S l pay thee ſo much bldud agayne as ſhe he bath in fyre How haps it that his trembling cheekes to be ſo pale and whight, Lying agaſt as in a traunce with faynting face vpright. Cl. His conſcience wedlocke vow doth pricke & bringes him home again Let vs returne the ſelfe ſame trade a new for to retayne, To which at firſt we ſhould haue ſtucke and ought not to forſake, To co enaunt continent a new let vs our ſelues betake: To take the trade of honeſty at no tyme is to late: He purged is from puniſhment whoſe hart the cryme doth hate. Aeg. Why whither wilt thou gad (o raſh and vnaduyſed dame?) What doſt thou earneſtly beleeue, and firmly truſt the ſame, That Agamemnons ſpouſall bed wil loyall be to thee? That nought doth vnderprop thy mynd which might thy terrour bee? His proud ſucceſſe puft vp to high with lucky blaſt of wynde, Might make ſo cranke, and ſet aloft his hawty ſwelling mynd: Among his peares he ſtately was ere Troyan turrets torne, How thinke ye then his ſtomacke ſtoute by nature geuen to ſcorne, In haughtines augmented is more in himſelfe to ioy, Throughe this triumphant victory and conqueſt got of Troy? Before his voyage Miceane King moſt mildly did he raygne, But now a Tyrant truculent returnd he is agayne. Good lucke and proude proſperity do make his hart ſo ryſe. With what great preparation prepared ſolemne wyſ , A rabblement of ſtrumpets come that clong about him al? B t yet the Propheteſſe of Thebe (whom God of truth we call) Appeares aboue the reſt: ſhe keepes the King, ſhee doth him guyde: Wilt thou in wedlocke haue a mate and not for it prouyde? So would not ſhee, the greatteſt greefe this is vnto a wyfe, Her huſbandes mimon in her houſe to leade an open life. A Queenes eſtate cannot abyde her peete with her to raygne, Ind ielous wedlocke wil not her companion ſuſtayne. Cl. Aegiſt in deſprat moode agayn why ſeeſt thou mee a flote? Why kindleſt thou the ſparkes of yre in imbers couered hot If that the victors owne free will eleaſe his captiues care, Why may not. I his Lady ſpouſe haue hope as wel to fare? One law doth rule in royal throne, and po pous princclye Towres, Among the vulgar ſorte, another in priuate ſimple bowers. What though my grudging fancy force that at my huſbandes hand, Sharpe execution of the law I ſtubbernly withſtand? Recording this that haynouſly offended him I haue: He gently wil me pardon graunt who neede the ſame to craue? Aeg. Euen ſo on this condition thou mayſt with him compound. To pardon him if he agayne to pardon th be bounde. The ſubtil ſcience of the law, the ſtatutes of our land, (That long agoe decreed were) thou doſt not vnderſtand. The Iudges be malicious men, they ſpyght and enuye vs, But he ſhal haue them partiall his cauſes to diſcus. This is the chiefeſt priuiledge that doth to Kinges belong. What lawes forbidd th other men, they doe, and doe no wronge. Cly. He pardned Helen, ſhe is wed to Menela agayne Which Europe all with Aſia did plunge alike in payne. Aeg. No Ladies Luſt hath rauiſht yet Atrides in his life, Nor priuily purloynd his hart betrothed to his wyfe. To picke a quarrel he beginnes and matter thee to blame, Suppoſe thou nothing haſt commit that worthy is of ſhame? What boteth him whom Princes hate an honeſt life to frame? He neuer doth complayne his wrong, but euer beares the blame. Wilt thou repayre to Spart and to thy countrey trudge aryght? Wilt thou become a ronnagate from ſuch a worthy wight? Deuorcement made from Kinges wil not ſo let the matter ſcape. Thou eaſeſt feare by fickle hope, that falſly thou doſt ſhape: Cli. My treſpas is diſcloſd to none, but to a truſty wight: Aeg. At princes gates fidelity yet neuer enter might. Cl. I wil corrupt and feede him ſo with ſiluer and with gold. That I by bribing bynd him ſhall no ſecrets to vnfold: Ae. The truſt that hyred is and bought by brybes and moneis fee, Thy counſell to bewray agayne with brybes entyſte wil be Cl. The remnaunt left of ſhamefaſtnes of thoſe vngracious trickes, Wherin of late I did delyght, my conſcience freſhly prickes. Why kep'ſt thou ſuch a buſie ſturre and with thy flatring ſpeach, Enſtructing me with lewd aduyſe doſt wicked counſell preach Shall I forſooth of royal bloud with al the ſpeede I can Refuſe the King of Kinges, and wed an outcaſt baniſht man Aeg. Why ſhould you thinke in that Thieſt was father vnto mee. And Agamemnon Atreus ſonne he ſhould my better be? Cly. If that be but a tryfle ſmall, and nephew to the ſame. Aeg. I am of Phoebus linage borne, wherof I do not ſhame. Cl. Why makſte thou Phoebus author of thy wicked pedagrew, Whom out of heauen ye forſt to flye when bridle backe he drew, When Lady Night with mantel blacke did ſpread her ſoden ſhade, Why makeſt thou the Gods in ſuch reproachfulnes to wade? Whoſe father hath thee conning made by ſleight and ſubtil guyle To make thy kinſman Cockold whyle his wyfe thou do defyle. What man is he whom we do know to be thy fathers mate, Abuſing luſt of Lechery in ſuch vnlawful rate? Auaunt, go packe thee hence in haſt, diſpatch out of my ſight This infamy, whoſe blemiſh ſtaynes this bloud of worthy wyght. Aeg. This is no new exile to me that wickednes do hannt, But if that thou (O worthy Queene) commaund me to auaunt, I wil not only ſtrayght auoyde the houſe the towne and field My life on ſword at thy requeſt I ready am to yeeld Cli. This heynous dede permit ſhall I (moſt churliſh cruell drab) Agaynſt my wil though I offend, the fault I ſhould not blabbe: Nay, rather come apart with mee, and let vs ioyne our wittes To wrap our ſelues out of this woe and parlous threatning fits. Chorus. NOw chaunt it luſty laddes, Apollos prayſe ſubborne, To thee the frolicke flocke their crowned heads adorne. To thee King Inachs ſtocke of wedlocke chamber voyde, Brayd out their virgins lockes and theron haue employd Theyr ſauory garlandes greene Itwiſt of laurell bow. Draw neare with vs O Thebes our dauncing follow thou. Come alſo ye that drinck of Iſmen bubling flood, VVheras the Laurell treeful thicke on bankes doth bood. Eake ye whom Mando mild, the Propheteſſe diuine, (Foreſeyng fate) and borne of high Tireſias lygne, Hath ſtird to celebrate with ſacred vſe and right. Appollo and Dian borne of Latona bright. O Victor Phaebe vnbend thy noked bow agayne. Syth quie tnes and peace anew we do retayne. And let thy twanckling harpe make melody ſo ſhril, Whyle that thy nimble hand ſtryke quauers with thy quill. No curious deſcant I nor luſty muſick craue, No iolly rumbling note, nor trouling tune to haue. But on thy treble Lute (according to thy vſe) Stryke vp a playnſong note as when thy learned muſe Thy leſſons do record, though yet on baſer ſtring It lyketh thee to play the ſong that thon did ſinge: As when from fyery heauen the dint of lightning flue, Sent downe by wrath of Gods the Titans ouerthrew Or elſe when mountaynes were on mountaynes heaped hie That rayſe for Giauntes fell theyr ſteppes into the ſkye, The mountayne Oſſa ſtoode on top of Pelion layd, Olymp (wheron the Pynes theyr budding braunches braide) Downe paiſed both: drawe nere O Iuno noble dame, Both ſpouſe of mighty Ioue and ſiſter to the ſame. Thou that doſt rule with him made ioynter of his mace, Thy people we of Grece geue honor to thy grate. Thou onely doſt protect from per illes Aigos land, That euer careful was to haue thyne honour ſtand, Moſt ſupplient thereunto thou alſo with thy might Doſt order ioyful peace and battails fearce of fyght Accept O conquering Queene theſe braunches of the bayes That Agamemnon here doth yeld vnto thy prayſe: The hollow boxen pype (that doth with holes abound) In ſynging vnto the doth geue a ſolemne ſound: To thee the Damſels eake that play vppon the ſtringes, With conning harmony melodious muſicke ſinges. The matrons eke of Greece by ryper years more graue, To thee the Taper pay that vowed oft they haue, The Heyferd young and whyte companion of the Bull. Vnſkilful yet by proofe the paynful plow to pull. VVhoſe neck was neuer worne nor gald with print of yoke, Is in thy temple ſlame receiuing deadly ſtroke. O Lady Pallas thou of moſt renoumed hap Bred of the brayne of Ioue that ſmites with thunder clap. Thou lofty Troian towres of craggy knotty flint Haſt bet with battring blade, and ſtroke with iaueling dint: The elder matrones with the dames that yonger be Together in myngled heapes do honour due to thee, VVhen thou approching nighe thy comming is eſpyde, The prieſt vnbarres the gate, and opes the Temple wide: By cluſtring thronges the flocks thine altars haunt apace, Bedeckte with twiſted crownes ſo trim with comely grace. The olde and auncient men well ſtept and grown in yeares, VVhoſe feeble trembling age procureth hory hayres Obtayning their requeſt crau de of thy grace deuine, Do offer vp to thee their ſacrify ſed wyne, O bright Dian whoſe blaſe ſheds light three ſondry waies VVemyndful are of thee, and render thankefull prayſe, Delon thy natiue ſoyle thou diddeſt fyrmely bynde, That to and fro was wont to wander with the wynde: VVhich with foūdation ſure mayn ground forbyds to paſſe For Nauies (after which to ſwim it wonted was) It is become a road defying force of wynd, The mothers funeralles of Tantalus his kinde. The daughters ſeuen by death thou victreſſe doſt accompt. VVhoſe mother Niobe abydes on Sipil mount A lamentable rocke and yet vnto this howre Her teares new guſhing, out the marble old doth powre. The Godhead of the Twins in ſumpteous ſolemne wyſe, Both man and wyfe adore with ſauory ſacrifyce, But thee aboue the reſt O father great and guide, VVhoſe mighty force is by the burninglightning tryde: Who when thou gaueſt a becke and d dſt thy head but ſhake At once thextremeſt poales of heauen and earth did quake, O Iupiter the roote that of our lynage arte. Accept theſe offered gifts and take them in good parte: And thou O graundſire great to thy poſteritie. Haue ſome remorſe, that do not ſwarue in chyualrie. But yonder lo with ſtiuing ſteps the ſouldier comes amayne In all poſt haſt, with token that good newes declareth plaine A Lawrell braunch, that hangeth on his ſpeare head he doth bringe Eurybates is come, who hath ben truſty to the kynge.
THE THIRD ACTE. Euribates. Clytemneſtra SOre tyred after many yeares with trauayle and wyth toyle Scant credityng my ſelfe, the Gods of thys my natyue ſoyle, The temple, and the alters of the ſaincts that rule the ſkye, In kumble ſort wyth reuerence deuoutly worſhip I. Now pay your vowes vnto the Gods returned is agayne Vnto his countrey court, where wont he was to rule, and reigne, Prynce Agamemnon, victor he, of Grece the great renoume. Cly. The tydings of a meſſage good vnto mine eares is blowne. Where ſtayes my ſpouſe whō longing for ten yeres I haue out ſcand? What doth he yet ſayle on the ſeas, or he is come a land? Yet hath he fyxt and ſet his foote bauck ſtepping home agayne. Vppon the ſandy ſhore, that longe he wiſhed to attayne And doth he ſtyll enioy his health enhauncte in glory great, And painted out in pompe of prayes whoſe fame the ſky doth beate? Eu. Bleſſe we with burning ſacrifice at length this lucky day Cli. And eke the Gods though gracious, yet dealing long delay: Declare if that my brothers wyfe enioy the vytall ayre And tel me to what kind of Coaſt my ſiſter doth repayre. Euri. God graunt, & geue vs better newes then this that thou doſt craue The heauy hap of fyghting flouds forbiddes the truth to haue, Our scattred fleete the ſwelling ſeas attemptes in ſuch a plight, That ſhip from ſhip was taken cleane out of each others ſight. Atrides in the waters wyde torwoyld and ſtraying farre More vyolence by ſeas ſuſtaynd then by the bloudy warre And as it were a conquerd man eſcaping home al weete Now bringeth in his company of ſuch a mighty fleete, A ſort of bruſed broken barkes, beſhaken, torne, and rent. Cli. Shew what vnlucky chaunce it is that hath our nauy ſpent. What ſtorme of ſeas diſperſed hath our Captaynes hear and there Eury. Thou willeſt me to make report of heauy woful geare. Thou biddeſt me moſt greeuous newes with tydinges good to part: For vttring of this woeful hap my feeble mynd doth ſtart. And horribly appauled is with this ſo monſtruous ill. Cly, Speake out and vtter it: himſelfe with terrour he doth fill, Whoſe hart his owne calamity and carke doth loath to know: The hart whom doubted domage dulles with greater griefe doth glow Eu. When Troyan buildings blaſing bright did burne away and broyle, Enkindled firſt by Grekiſh brand, they fall to part the ſpoyle: Repayring faſt vnto the ſeas agayne we come aboord, And now the ſouldiers weary loynes were eaſed of his ſword, Their bucklers caſt aſide, vppon the hatches lie aboue. Their warlike handes in practiſe put, and Oers learne to moue: Ech litle hindraunce ſeemes to much to them in haſty plight, When of recourſe the Admirall gaue watchword by his light, And trumpet blaſt beganne to cal our army from delay, The paynted Pup with gilded ſnowt did firſt guyde on the way: And cut the courſe, which following on a thouſand ſhippes did ryue, Then firſt a wynd with pipling puffes our launcing ſhips did dryue, Which glyded downe vpon our ſayles the water beyng calme With breath of weſterne wynd ſo myld ſcant moued any walme. The ſhyning ſeas beſpred about with ſhippes doth gliſter bright, And alſo couerd with the ſame lay hid from Phoebus lyght: It doth vs good to gaſe vppon the naked ſhore of Troy: The deſart Phrygian plots ſo bare to vew w e hop for ioye: The yeuth each one beſturres themſelues, and ſtriking altogeather, They tough their oers & with their toyle they helpe the wynd & weather They ug and chearely row by courſe, the ſpir ing ſeas vp daſh, Agaynſt the atling ibs of ſhips the flapping floods do flaſh The hory froth of wreſtling waues which ores aloft doth rayſe, Do draw and trace a furrow through the marblefaced ſeas. When ſtronger blaſt with belly ſwolne our h yſted ſayles did fil, They row no more, but let the Pup to goe with wynd at wil, Their ſheryng oers layd aſſyde our Pilot doth eſpye, How farre from any land aloofe our ſayles reculing flye, Or bloudy battels doth diſplay the threats of Hector ſtout, Or of his ratling waggings tels, wherein he rode about. Or how his gaſhed carkas ſlayne and traynd about the field To funeral flan es and obit rightes for coyne agayne was yeld. How Iupiter embathed was al in his royall bloud. The frolicke fiſh diſpoſed was to mirth in Tyrren floud, And fetching friſkes both in and out playes on the waters brim, And on his broade and fynny backe about the ſeas doth ſwim, With gambals quicke in ringes around and ſ de to ſide enclynd, Erwhyle he ſportes afront the pup, and whips agayne behynd, Now fidling on the ſnout before the dalying wanton route With iocundary ioly tryckes doth ſkip the fleete about. Sometyme he ſtandeth gaſing on and eyes the veſſels bright, Now euery ſhore is couered cleane, and land is out of ſight, The parlous poynt of Ida rocke in ſight doth open lye, And that alone eſpie we could with fyrmly fixed eye, A duſkye clowde of ſtifling ſmoake from Troy did ſmolter blacke, When Titan from the weary neckes the heauy yokes did ſlacke. The fading light did groueling bend, and downe the day did ſhrowd, Agaynſt the Starres amounting vp a litle miſty clowde Came belching out in yrkſome Iompe, and Phoebus galland beams He ſpewd vppon, beſtayning them duct downe in Weſterne ſtreams. The Sunne ſet ſwaruing in ſuch ſort with diuers chaunge of face, Did geue vs cauſe to haue miſtruſt of Neptunes doubted grace. The euening firſt did burniſh bright, and paynt with ſtarres the ſky. The wyndes were layed, and cleane forſooke our ſayles that quiet lie. When cracking, ratling, rumbling noyſe, tuſht down wt thundring ſway From top of hills, which greatter ſturre doth threaten and bewraye. With bellowinges, and yellinges lowde, the ſhores do grunt & grone, The craggy clyues and roaring rocks do howle in hollow ſtone. The bubling waters ſwelles vpreard before the wraſtling wynd, When ſodaynly the lowring light of Mone is hid and blynd. The glymſing ſtarres do goe to glade, the ſurging ſeas are toſt Euen to the ſkyes among the clowdes the light of heauen is loſt. More nightes in one compacted are with ſhadow dim and blacke, One ſhadow vpon another doth more darknes heape and packe, And euery ſparke of light conſum'd the waues and ſkyes do meete, The ruffling windes range on the ſeas, through euery coaſt they fi t. They heaue it vp with violence, oreturnde from bottom low, The weſterne wynd flat in the face of Eaſterne wynd doth blow. With hurley burley Boreas ſet ope his blaſting mouth, And girdeth out his boyſteous breth agaynſt the ſtormy ſouth, Each wynd with al his might doth blow, and worketh daungers deepe, They ſhake the floods, a ſturdy blaſt along the ſeas do ſweepe. That rolles and rumbles waue on waue, a northren tempeſt ſtronge, Aboundance great of flacky ſnow doth hurle our ſhippes amonge. The ſouthwynd out of Libia, doth rage vppon a ſhold, And with the puiſſant force therof the quickſandes vp be rold, Nor bydeth in the ſouth which doth with tempeſt lumpe and lower, And force the flowing floods to riſe by powring out a ſhower. The ſtubberne Eurus, Earthquakes made, and ſhoke the coūtries Eaſt, And Eos coſt where Phoebus firſt aryſeth from his reſt. How violent Corus ſtretcht and tare his yawning breaſt ful wyde? A man would ſure haue thought the world did from his center ſlyde, And that the frames of Heauen broke vp the Gods adowne would fall And Chaos darke confuſed heape would ſhade and couer all. The ſtreame ſtraue with the wynd, the wynd dyd beate it downe againe. The ſpringing ſea within his bankes can not it ſelfe contayne, The raging ſhowre his trilling droppes doth mingle with the ſeas, And yet in all this miſery the fynd not ſo much eaſe, To ſee and know what ill it is, that worketh theyr decay. The darknes dim oppreſſeth ſtill and keepes the light away: The blackfa ſt night with Hellicke hue was clad of Stygian lake And yet ful oft with glimſing beames the ſparkling fyre out brake, The clowde doth cracke, and beyng rent the lightning leapeth out, The wretches like the ſame ſo well it ſhyning them about, That ſtil they wiſh ſuch light to haue (although God wot but yll) The nauy ſwaying downe it ſelfe doth caſt away, and ſpill. One ſide with other ſide is crackt, and helme is rent with helme, The ſhip it ſelfe the gulping ſeas do headlong ouerwhelme. Erwhyle a greedy gaping gulph doth ſup it vp amayne, Then by and by oſt vp aloft it ſpewes it out againe, She with her ſwagging full of ſea to bottome lowe doth ſinke And drencheth deepe aſyde in floods her totring broken brinke. That vnderneath a doſen waues lay drowned out of ſight, Her broken plankes ſwim vp and downe, ſpoyld is her tackle quight, Both ſayle and Oers cleane are loſt, the mayne maſt eke is gone. That wonted was to beare vpright the ſayle yard thereuppon, The timber and the broken bordes lye on the waters brim, When cold and ſhiuering feare in vs doth ſtrike through euery lim, The wyſeſt wits entockſicate dare nothing enterpriſe, And cunning practiſe naught auayles when feareful ſtormes aryſe, The mareners letting duty ſlip ſtand ſtaring all agaſt, Their ſcoping ores ſodaynly out of their handes are wraſt. To prayer then apace we fall, when other hope is none, The Greekes and Troyans to the Gods alyke do make their mone. Alacke what ſuccour of the fates may wee poore wretches fynd? Agaynſt his father Pyr hus beares a ſpyteful cankred mynd, At Ayax grudge Vliſſes doth, king Menela doth hate Great Hector: Agamemnon is with Priam at debate. O happy man is he that doth lye ſlayne in Troyan ground, And hath deſerude by handy ſtroake to take his fatall wound, Whom ſame preſerueth, taking vp his tombe in conquerd land Thoſe momes whoſe melting cowardes hart durſt neuer take in hand Or enterpriſe no noble acte, thoſe force of f oods ſhall drowne But fate forbearing long, wil take ſtoute Brutes of high renoume, Ful wel we may aſhamed be, in ſuch a ſort to dye, If any man his ſpyteful mynd yet can not ſatiſfye, With theſe outragious plunging plagues that downe frō Gods are ſēt, Appeaſe at length thy wrathful God agayne and take relent. Euen Troy for pity would haue wept, to ſee our woefull caſe, But if that in thy boyling breaſt black rancour ſtill haue place, And that the Greekes to ruin run, it bee thy purpoſe bent, Why doe theſe Troyans goe to wrack? for whom thus are wee ſpent? Aſſwage the rygaur of the ſea that threarning hilles vp reares: This drenched Fleete the Troyan folke and Greekes together beares. Then from theyr prayers are they put, theyr foultring tonges doe ſtay, The roring ſeas doth drowne their voyce and caryes their cries away. Then mighty Pallas armed with the lepping lightning ſyre, That teaſty Ioue doth vſe to hurle prouokt to ſwelling yre, With threatning Iaueling in her hand, her proweſſe meanes to try. And eke her force whoſe boyling breaſt with Gorgon fits doth fry, Or what with Target ſhe can doe, and with her Fathers fyre. Then from the Skyes another ſtorme begins abroade to ſpyre, But Aiax nothing yet diſmaide all force withſtandeth ſtout, Whom when hee ſpred his ſwelling ſayles with Cable ſtretched out, She lighting downe did wryng him hard, and wrapt him in her flame, And ſlang another flaſſhing dint of lightning on the ſame, With all her force and violence her hand brought back agayne, She toſt him out, as late that feate her father tought her playne. Both ouer Aiax and his Pup ſhe flyeth ouerthwart, And renting man and ſhyp, of both ſhee beares away a part, His corage nought abated yet hee all to ſingde doth ſeeme, Euen like a ſlubberne ragged Rocke amid the ſtriuing ſtreame, Hee traynes along the roaring ſeas and eke the waltering waue By ſhouing on his bourly breaſt in ſunder quite he draue, The Barke with hand he caught, and on it ſelfe did rype it ouer, Yet Aiax fhyneth in the floud which darkneſſe blinde doth couer. At length attayning to a rocke his thundring crakes were theſe, I conquered haue the force of fyre and rage of fighting ſeas, It doth mee good, to mayſter thus the anger of the ſkye, With Pallas wrath, the lightning flames and floods tumultyng hye. The terrour of the warlyck god once could not make me flye, The force of Mars and Hector both at once ſuſtaynd haue I. Nor Phoebus dartes could me conſtrayne, from him one foote to ſhoon, All theſe beſide the Phrygians ſubdued we haue, and woon. When other Mecocks flinges his darts ſhall I not them withhis ſtand? Yea, what if Phoebus came himſelfe, to pytch them with his hande? When in hys melancholy moode he boaſted without meane. Then father Neptune lyft his heat about the waters cleane. The beaten rocke with for led m ce he vndermyning pluckte From bottom looſe, and ſuncke it downe, when downe himſelfe he ducke. There Aiax lay, by land, by fyre, and ſtorme of ſeas deſtroid But we by ſuffering ſhypwrack; are with greater plagues a oyd. A ſubtyle ſhallow floud there is flowne on a ſtony ſhold, Where crafty Caphar out of ſyght the lurking rocks doth hold, Vppon whoſe ſharpe and ragged tops the ſwelling ſide doth flow, The boyling waues do beat thereon ſtill ſweaing to and fro: A turrret nodding ouer it doth hange with fallyng ſway, From whence on either ſide from height proſpect eſpy wee may Two ſeas: and on this hand the coaſt where Pelops once did raygne, And Iſthmus floud in narrow creeke, reculing back agayne, Doth ſtop Ionian ſea, leaſt into Helleſpont it run, On th'other part is Lemnon floud that fame by bloudſhed woon. On th'other ſide Calcedon to one doth ſtand agaynſt this forte, And Aulis Ile that ſtayde out ſhips that thyther did reſorte. This Caſtell heere inhabyte doth our Palimedes ſier, Whoſe curſed hand helde in the top a brand of flaming fier. That did alure our fleete, to turne on lurking rockes a ryght, Entyſing them with with blaze to come vnto the lyght. All into fitters ſhaken are the veſſels on the ſholde, But other ſome doe ſwym, and ſome vpon the rockes are roulde. And other lipping backe agayne ſo to eſchew the Rocks, His bruſed Ryb , and ratling ſides agaynſt eche other knocks, Whereby the other hee doth breake, and broken is himſelfe, Then woulde they launee into the deepe, for now they dread the ſhelfe, This perk of troubles thau ct to hap in dawning of the day. But when the Gods (be ought of vs) began the rage to ſtay, And Phoebus golden beames began a freſhe to render lyght, The dolefull day diſcried all the domage done by nyght. CLY. O whether may I now lament, and weepe with wayling ſad? Or ſhall I els in that my Spouſe returned is bee glad? I doe reioyce, and yet I am compelled to bewayle My countreyes great calamity that doth the ſame aſſayle. O Father great whoſe maieſty doth thundring Scepters ſhake, The ſowring Gods vnto the Greekes now fauourable make, With garlands greene let euery head reioyſing now be crounde. To thee the pype in ſacryfice melodiouſly doth ſounde, And on thyne aulter lyeth ſlayne an Heyferd lilly whight, Before the ſame doe preſent ſtand with hanging lockes vndight, A carefull Troyan company in heauy wofull plight, On whom frō high the Lawrell tree with ſpredding braunch doth ſhyne, Whoſe vertue hath inſpyred them with Phoebus grace diuine, CHORVS. CASSANDRA. ALas the cruell ſting of loue how ſweetely doth it taſte, A miſery is mortall man annext whyle lyfe doth laſt? The pathe of miſchiefe for to flye, now ſith there is a gap, And wretched ſoules be franckly calde From euery wofull hap, By death, a pleaſaunt port, for aye in reſt them ſelues to ſhroude, Where dreadfull tumultes neuer dwell nor ſtormes of Fortune proude: Nor yet the burning firy flakes of Ioue the ſame doth doubt, When wrongfully with thwacking thumpes be raps his thunder out: Heere Lady Peace th'inhabitours doth neuer put in flight, Nor yet the victors threatning wrath approching right to fight, No whyrling weſternwynde doth vrge the ramping ſeas to praunce, No duſty cloude that rayſed is by ſauage Dimilaunce, On horſeback riding rancke, by rancke no fearce and cruell hoſt, No people ſlaughtred, with their townes cleane ropſie turuey toſt: Whyle that the foe with flaming fyre doth ſpoyle and waſte the wall, Vntamed and vnbridled Mars deſtroyes and batters all: That man alone who forceth not the fickle fates a ſtrawe, The vyſage grim of Acheront whoſe eyes yet neuer ſawe, Who neuer vewd with heauy cheare the vgſome Limbo lake, And putting lyfe in haſarde, dare to death him ſelfe betake. That perſon is a Prynces peare, and lyke the Gods in myght, Who knoweth not what death doth meane is in a pitious plight The ruthfull ruin of our natyue countrey wee behelde: That wofull nyght, in which the roofes of houſes ouerquelde, In Dardans City blaſing bryght with flaſſhing fiery flames. When as the Greekes with burning brandes enkindle did the frames, That: Troy whom war & beedes of armes might not ſubdue and take. As once did mighty Hercules, whoſe Ouyuer cauſde it quake, Which neither he that 〈◊〉 ſonne, and ſonne to Thetis was, Nor whom Achilles loued to wel, could euer brynge to paſſe, When glytesing bright in field he ware al e armour on his back, And counterfayting fearſe Achill the Troyans draue to wrack. Nor when Achilles he hym ſelfe his minde from ſorow wraſt, And Troyan women to the walles did ſcuddyng leape in haſt. In myſerte ſhe loſt her proud eſtate, and faſt renoume, By being ſtoutly ouercome, and hardly pulled downe. Yeares fyue & fyue did Troy reſiſ e, that yet 〈…〉 muſt, In one nyghts ſpace by deſtenie he layed in the duſt. Theyr fained giftes well haue we tried that huge and fatall gin, We lyght of credit, with our owne ryght hand haue haled in, That fatall gyft of Greeckes: what yme at entry of the gap The hugye hors did ſhyueryng ſtand, where in the in ſelues did wrap The captaynes cloſe, in holow vautes with bloudy war y reight. When lawfully we might haue tryde, and ſerched their deceit: So by theyr owne contryued ſnares the grekes had bin confound: The braſen bucklers being ſhooke did gyue a clattring ſound. A priuy whyſpering often tymes came tyckling in our ear. And Pyrrhus (in a murreynes name ſo ready for to heare. The crafty councell picked out of falſa Vlifſſes brayne,) Did angle in the halow Vaut •• that range thereof agayne. But fearing and ſuſpecting nought the hea dy youth of Troy Layde handes vpon the ſacred ropes, to hale and pull with ioy, On this ſyde younge Aſtyanax came garded with his trayne, On th'other part Pollixena diſponſed to bee ſlayne Vpon Achilles tombe, ſhe coms with maydes, and hee with men, A ioly flocke with equall yeares as younge as they were then. Theyr vowd oblations to the gods in holy day attyre, The matrons bryng and ſo to church repayreth euecry ſyre. And all the city did alyke, yea Hecuba our queene (That ſynce the woful Hectors death or now was neuer fene) She mery is: O griefe accurſt, of all thy ſorowes depe For whych that firſt, or laſt befell entendeſt thou to wepe? Our battred walles which heauenly hands cected haue and framde? Or els the burning temples which vpon their Idols flamde? Lamenting theſe calamyties wee haue not time and ſpace, O mighty parent Pryam we poore Troyans wayle thy caſe. The olde mans thratling throate I ſawe, (alas) I ſaw yborde With cruell Pyrrhus blade, that ſcante with any bloud was gorde: CAS. Refraine your teares yt down your cheekes ſhould tricle euermore With woefull waylings piteouſly your pryuate friendes deplore My myſeries refuſe a mate, ſo much accurſt as I: To rewe my carefull caſe, refrayne your lamentable cry. As for myne owne diſtreſſe to moorne, I ſhall ſuffice alone. CHO. To mingle teares with other teares it doth vs good to mone: In thoſe the burning teary ſtreames more ardently doe boyle, Whom ſecret thoughts of lurking cares in priuy breaſt turmoyle: Though that thou were a Goſſop ſtout, that brooke much ſorrow may I warraunt thee, thou myghteſt well, lament this ſore decay, Not ſad and ſolemne Aedon that in the woodes doth ſinge Her ſugred Ditties finely tunde on ſweete and pleaſaunt ſtringe: Recording Irys woefull hap in diuers kynde of note, Whom Progne though he were her chylde and of her wombe begot, For to reueng his fathers fault, ſhe did not ſpare to kill: And gaue his fleſh and bloude for foode the fathers Maw to fill. Nor Progne who in Swallowes ſhape: vpon the rydges hye, Of houſes ſits in Biſton towne bewayling piteouſly, With chattering throate, of Tereus her ſpouſe the cruell act, (Who did by ſtrength and force of armes a ſhamefull brutiſhe fact. Defile the ſyſter of his wyfe, fayre Philomel by name, And eke cut out her tonge, leaſt ſhee ſhould blab it to his ſhame) Though Progne this her huſbandes rape lamenting very ſore Doe wayle, and weepe with piteous plaint, yet can ſhee not deplore Sufficiently, though that ſhee woulde, our countreyes piteous plight: Though he himſelfe among the Swans ſyr Cygnus lilly whight. Who dwelles in ſtreame of Iſter floud, and Tanais channell coulde, His weeping voyce moſt erneſtly though vtter out her woulde: Although the morning Halcyons with dolefull ſighes doe wayle, At ſuch time as the fighting floudes their Cyex did aſſayle, Or raſhly wexing boulde attempt the Seas now layde at reſt, Or being very fearefull feede their broode in tottring neſt, Although as ſquemiſhe hearted men thoſe prieſtes in bedlem rage, Whom mother Cyble being borne on high in lofty ſtage, Doth mooue, to play on ſhalmes, Atys the Phrygian to lament, Yet can not they this lot bewayle, though brawn frō armes they rent. Caſſandra, in our teares there is no meaſure to refrayne, Thoſe miſeryes all meaſure paſſe, that plunged vs in payne. The ſacred fillets from thy heads, why doſt thou hale and pull? They chiefly ought to worſhip God, whoſe hearts with griefe be dull. CAS. My feare by this affliction is cleane abaled all, Nor praying to the heauenly Ghoſtes for mercy will I call. Although they were diſpoſde to cha e and fret in fuſ ten fumes, They nothing haue me to diſpleaſe, Fortune her force conſumes. Her ſpyte is worne vnto the ſtumpes, what countrey haue I left? Where is my Syre? am I of all my ſyſters quite bereft. The ſacred tombes and alter ſtones our bloud haue drunke & ſwylde, Where are my brethren bleſſed knor? deſtroyed in the fylde. All widdow Wyues of Priams ſonnes may eaſly now beholde, The Pallace voyde and caſt of court of ſilly Priam olde. And by ſo many marriages ſo many Wyddowes are, But onely Hellen comming from the coaſt of Lacon farre. That Hecuba the mother of ſo many a pryncely wyght, Whoſe fruitfull Wombe did breede the brand, of fyer blaſing bryght: Who alſo bare the ſwinge in Troy, by practiſe now doth learne, New lawes and guiſe of deſteny in bondage to diſcerne. On her ſhee takath heart of grace with lookes ſo ſterne and wylde, And barketh as a bedlem bitch about her ſtrangled chylde Deare Polidor, the remnaunt left, and onely hope of Troy, Hector, and Priam to reuenge, and to reſtore her ioy. CHO. The ſacred Phoebus Prophet is with ſodayne ſilence huſht: A quaking trembling ſhiuering feare throughout her Isms hath ruſht: Her Face as pale as Aſhes is, her Fillits ſtande vpryght, The ſoft and gentle goldilockes ſtarte vp of her affright. Her panting breathing breaſt ſtuft vp within doth grunt and grone. Her glaring bryghe and ſteaming Eyes are hether and thyther throwne. Now glauncing vp and downe they roll: now ſtanding ſtiffe they ſtare. She ſtretcheth vp her head more ſtreyght then commonly ſhe bare, Boult vp ſhe goes, her wraſtling Iawes that faſt together clinge, She doth attempt by diuers meanes, on ſunder how to wringe. Her mumbling words in gabling mouth ſhut vp ſhe doth aſſwage, As Menas mad that Bacchus aares doth ſerue in furious rage. CAS. How doth it hap (O ſacred tops of high Parnaſſus hill) That me berapt of ſence, with prickes of fury freſh yee fiill? Why doe you me with ghoſt inſpyre, that am beſyde my wits? O Phoebus none of thyne I am, releaſſe me from the ſits: Infixed in my burning breaſtes the flames extinguiſh out, Who forceth me with fury fell to gad and trot about? Or for whoſe ſake inſpyrde with ſpryte mad mumbling make muſt I? Why play I now the Prophet colde, ſith Troy in duſt doth ly? The day doth ſhrynke for dread of warre, the night doth dim mine eyes. With mantell blacke of darkneſſe deepe cleane couerd is the ſkyes: But loe two ſhining Sunnes at once in heauen appeareth bryght, Two Grecian houſes muſter doe their armies twayne to fight. Amonge the mighty Goddeſis in Ida woodes I ſee, The fatall ſheepherd in his throne as vmpier plaſt to bee: I doe aduiſe you to beware, beware (I ſay) of kynges, (A kindred in whoſe cancred heartes olde priuy grudges ſpringes) That countrey clowne Aegiſthus he this ſtocke ſhall overthrowe, What doth this fooliſh deſpret dame her naked weapons ſhowe? Whoſe crowne entendeth ſhee to cracke in weede of Lacon lande, With Hatchet (by the Amazons inuented firſt) in hand? What face of mighty maieſty be witched hath myne eyes? The conquerour of ſaluage beaſtes Marmarick Lyon lyes, Whoſe noble necke is wurried with curriſh fange and tooth The curliſh ſnaps of eger Lyoneſle abyde hee dooth. Alacke yee ghoſtes of all my friendes why ſhould yee ſay that I, Among the reſt am onely ſafe, from perils farre to ly? Fayne father follow thee I would, Troy being layde in duſt. O brother terrour of the Greekes, O Troyans ayde and truſt. Our auncient pomp I doe not ſee, nor yet thy warmed handes, (That fearce on Greekiſh flaming fleete did fling the fyry brandes) But mangled members, ſchorched corps, and ſake thy valiaunt armes, Hard pimond and bounde in bands ſuſtayning greeuous harmes: O Troyolus, a match vnfit encountering with Achill (That myghty man of armes) to ſoone come vnto thee I will. I doe delight, to ſayle with them on ſtinking Siygian flood. To vew the churliſhe maſtife cur of hell, it doth mee good. And gaping mouthed Kingdome darke of greedy Ditis raygne. The Barge of filthy Phlegethon this day ſhall entertayne, Mee conquering, and conquered, and Prynces ſoules with all. You flitering ſhades I you beſeeche, and cake on thee I call, O Stygian poole (whereon the Gods theyr ſolemne othes doe take Vnbolt a whyle the Braſne bars of darkſome Lymoo lake. Whereby the Phrygian folke in hell may Mic an ſtate beholde. Looke vp yee ſilly wretched ſoules, the fates are backward roulde. The ſqally ſiſters doe approch, and deale their bloudy ſtrokes, Their ſmultring taggots in their handes halfe bru ie to aſhes ſmokes. Their vyſages ſo pale doe burne, with fyry flaming eyes: A garment blacke theyr g awed guts doth gyrde in mourning g yſe. Dire dread of night begins to howle, the bones of body baſt With lying long doe rot corrupt in miry pudle caſt. Beholde, the wery aged man his burning thyrſt forgot The waters dalying at his lippes to catch endeuors not: But mourneth for the funerall, that ſhall enſue anen. The Troyan Prynce his royall robes tryumphant putteth on. CHO. The furious rage cleane ouerpaſt begins it ſelfe to ſlake. And ſlyps away, euen as a Bull that deadly wounde doth take On gaſſhed neck afront the aares: come let vs eaſe at laſt Her lymbes, that of the ſpryte of God hath felt the mighty blaſt. Returning home agayne at length and crounde with Lawrell bow (A ſigne of worthy victory) is Agamemnon now. The Wyfe to meete her Huſband, doth her ſpeedy paſſage ply, Returning hand in hand, and foote by foote moſt louingly.
THE FOVRTH ACTE. AGAMEMNON. CASSANDRA. AT length I doe arryue agayne vppon my natiue ſoyle: God ſaue thee O deare loued Lande, to thee ſo huge a ſpoyle So many barbarous people yeelde: the flowre of Aſia. Troy: To beare thy yoake ſubmits her ſelfe, that longe did liue in ioy. Why doth this Prophet (on the grounde her ſprawling body layde) Thus reele and ſtagger on her necke, all trembling and diſmayde? Sirs, take her vp, with Lycour warme let her bee cheariſhed. Now peepes ſhe vp agayne, with drouping eyes ſonke in her head: Plucke vp thy ſpryte, heere is the porte wiſht for in miſery: This day is feſtiuall. CAS. At Troy ſo was it wont to bee. AG. Let vs to Th'alters worſhip gyue. C. At Th'alters died my ſire: A, Pray wee to Ioue. C. To loue whoſe grace diuine doth me inſpire? AG. Doſt thou ſuppoſe that Troy thou ſeeſt? C. And Priam eke I ſee. AG. Troy is not heere. C. where Helen is there take I Troy to bee, AG. Feare not as maide to ſerue thy dame. C. Nay fredome draweth ny. AG. Take thou no thought how thou ſhalt I ue. C. All cares for to defy, Death giues a courage vnto mee. AG. Yet ſay I once agayne There is no daunger left, whereby thou mighteſt hurt ſuſtayne. CA. But yet much troublous daūger both hang ouer thy head I wot. AG. What miſchiefe may a victor dread? CA. Euen y hee dreadeth not. AG. Yee truſty meny of my men come cary her away, Till of the ſpryte ſhee ryd her ſelfe, leaſt fury force her ſay That may be preiudiciall, her tongue ſhe cannot frame. To thee O Father flinging forth the lightnings flaſſhing flame, That doſt diſperſe the cloudes, and rule the courſe of euery ſtarre, And guyde the Globe of Earth, to whom the boottes woon by warre With triumphe victors dedicate: to thee O Iuno hight The ſyſter deare of doughty Ioue, (thy huſband full of might) Both I and Greece with fleſh and bloude, and eke our vowed beaſt, And gorgious gyftes of Arabie, giue worſhip to thy heſt. Chorus. O GREECE by noble Gentlemen in honour ſhyning cleare, O GREECE to wrathfull IVNO thou that art the darling deare, Some iolly worthy luſty bloude thou foſters euermore, Thou haſt made euen the Gods, that were a number odde before. That puiſſaunt mighty Hercules a noble Impe of thyne Defer ed by his trauels twelue, rapt vp in heauen to ſhyne. For whom the heauens did alter courſe, and Iupiter with all Did iterate the howres of nyght, when dampiſhe dewe doth fall. And charged Phoebus chariot ſwyfte to trot with ſlower pace, And leaſurely bright lady Moone thy homwarde Wayne to trace, Bryght Luci er that yeare by yeare his name a newe doth chaunge, Came backe agayne, to whom the name of Heſper ſeemed ſtraunge. Aurora to her common courſe her reared head addreſt, And couching backward downe agayne the ſame ſhee did areſ , Vpon the ſhoulder of her ſpouſe, whoſe yeares with age are worne The eaſt did feele, ſo felt the weſt, that Hercules was borne. Dame nature coulde not clea e diſpatch, to vtter in one night, That boyſtous lad: the whyrling worlde did wayght for ſuch a wight. O babe whoſe ſhoulders vnderprop, the ample ſpactous ſky, In claſped armes thy preweſſe did the cruſſhed Lyon try. Who from his fyry yawning throate ſp wes out his broyling brande, The nimble hynde in Menall mount hath knowne thy heauy hande The Bore hath felt thy fyſt, which did Arcadia deſtroy. The monſtrous conquerde Bull hath rorde that Creta did anoy. The Dragon dyre that breeding beaſt in Lerna poole he ſlewe, And chopping of one head forbad thereof to ryſe anewe. With clubbed bruſing battring batte he crankly did ſubdew. (The brethren twins y tewde vn Teate) whereof three monſters grew. Of tryple formed Gerion the ſpoyle into the eaſt, A droue of ECttell Hercules did fetch out of the weaſt. Away from tyraunt Diomede the Thracian horſe he led, Which neyther with the graſſe that grew by Styrmon floud he fed, Nor yet on Heber bankes, but them the v •• layne did refreſh His greedy mounching cramming tades with aliaunts bloud and fleſh. Their rawfed Iawes imbrewde were with the carmans bloud at laſt, The ſpoyles and ſhaftes Hipolyte ſaw from her boſome wraſt As ſone as he with clattring ſhaft the duſky cloude did ſmite, The Stymphall byrde that ſhadowed the ſunne, did take her flight. The fertill tree that apples beares of golde, did feare him ſore, Which neuer yet acquayntaunce had with Taſters ooth before. But whipping vp with liuely twigges into the ayre ſhe fly s, And whyle the chinking plate doth found then Argos full of eyes, The watchman ſhrinking cloſe for colde that ſleepe yet neuer knew, Doth heare the noyſe whyle Hercules with mettall of yellow hew Well loden packs away, and left the groue befliched clea e. The hound of hell did holde his tongue drawne by in tryple cheane, Nor barke with any boughinge throate, nor coulde abyde the heme, Or colour of the heauenly lyght, whoſe beames hee neuer knewe. When thou wert captayne Generall, and didſt conduct our Hoſte, (They that) of Dardans Lygne, to come theyr Stocke doe falſly boſte, Were vanquiſhed by force of armes and ſince they felt agayne Thy Gray gooſe winge, whoſe bitterneſſe to feare might thē conſtrayne.
THE FIFTE ACTE. CASSANDRA. WIthin a reuell rexe is kept, as ſore as euer was, Euen at the ten yeares ſiege of Troy: What thing is this? (alas) Get vp my ſoule, and of the rage auengmeent worthy craue: Though Phrygians wee bee vanquiſhed, the victory we haue. The matter well is brought aboute: vp Troy thou ryſeſt now, Thou flat on floore haſt pulde down Greece, to ly as low as thou. Thy Conquerour doth turne his Face: my propheſying ſpright Did neuer yet diſcloſe to mee ſo notable a ſight: I ſee the ſame, and am thereat, and buſied in the broyle, No viſion fond fantaſticall my ſenſes doth beguile: Such fare as Prygians feaſtes with on laſt vnhappy night At Agamemnons royall courte full daintily they dight: With purple hangings all adornde the brodred Beds doe ſhyne, In olde Aſſaracks goblets gylt they ſwincke and ſwill the wyne. The King in gorgyous royall robes on chayre of State doth ſit, And pranckt with pryde of Pryams pomp of whom he conquerd it. Put of this hoſtile weede, to him, (the Queene, his Wyfe gan ſay,) And of thy louing Lady wrought weare rather thys aray. This garment knit. It makes mee loth, that ſhiuering heere I ſtande. O ſhall a King be murthered, by a baniſht wretches hande? Out, ſhall Th'adulterer deſtroy the huſbande of the Wyfe? The dreadfull deſtinies approcht, the foode that laſt in lyfe He taſted of before his death, theyr mayſters bloud ſhall ſee, The gubs of bloude downe dropping on the wynde ſhall powred bee. By traytrous tricke of trapping weede his death is brought about, Which being put vpon his heade his handes coulde not get out The ſtopped poake with mouth ſet ope his muffled head doth hyde, The mankinde dame with trembling hand the ſwe d drew from her ſide, Nor to the vtmoſt of her might it in his fleſh ſhee thraſt, But in the gieuing of the ſtroke ſhee ſtayed all agaſt, Hee as it were a briſtled Bore entangled in the net Among the bryars in buſſhy woodes yet tryeth out to get. With ſtrugling much the ſhrinking bands more ſtreightly he doth bind. He ſtryues in vayne, and would ſl y of the ſnare that doth him blind. Which catcheth holde on euery ſyde. But yet th'entangled wreatch Doth grope about, his ſubtle foes with griping hand to catch. But furious Tyndaris preparde the Pollaxe in her hande, And as the prieſt to ſacrifice at Th'alter ſide doth ſtande, And vewes with eye the Bullockes necke, eare that with Axe he ſmite, So to and fro ſhee heaues her hand to ſtryke and leauell right. He hath the ſtroke: diſpatcht it is: not quite fhopt of the head It hangeth by a litle crop: heere from the Carkaſſe dead The ſpouting bloude came guſſhing out: and there the head doth lye, With wallowing, bobling, mumbling tongue: nor they do by and bye Forſake him ſo: the breathleſſe coarſe Aegiſt doth all to coyle: And mangled hath the gaſſhed corpes: whyle thus hee doth him ſpoyle, She putteth to her helping hand: by deteſtable deede They both accorde vnto the kynde, whereof they doe proceede. Dame Helens ſyſter right ſhee is, and hee Thyeſtes ſonne: Loe doubtfull Titan ſtandeth ſtill the day now being donne, Not knowing whether beſt to keepe ſtill on his wonted way, Or turne his wheeles vnto the path of dyre Thyeſtes day.
THE FIFTE ACTE. THE SECONDE SCEANE. ELECTRA. O Thou whom of our Fathers death the onely helpe wee haue, Fly, fly, from force of furious foes, make haſt thy ſelfe to ſaue: Our houſe is opſey turuey toſt, our Stocke is caſt away, Our ruthfull realmes to ruin ronne, our kingdomes doe decay. Who cometh heere in Chariot ſwift thus galloping a mayne? Brother, diſguiſed in thy weede let mee thy perſon fayne. O Buſſard blynde, what doſt thou meane from forrayne folke to fly? Whom doſt thou ſhun? it doth behoue to feare this family. Oreſtes now bee boulde, and ſet all ſhiuering feare a ſide, The certayne ſuccour of a truſty friende I haue eſpide.
THE FIFTE ACTE. THE THIRD SCENE. Strophilus. Electra. WIth ſolemne Pompe I Strophilus forſaking Phocis lande, Bearing a braunch of Paulme, that growes at Eli , in my hand, Returned backe I am, the cauſe that wild mee heather wend, Is with theſe gyftes to gratefie and welcome home my frend, Whoſe valiaunt army ſhal e, and ſhooke the tattred Troyan walles, Who wearied with the ten yeares warre, now flat on floore ſhee falles. What wofull wight is this that ſtaynes her mourning face with teares, And drowned deepe in drouſp dumpes oppreſſed is with eares? I know full well this damſell is of Prynces lynage borne. What cauſe Electra hath this ioyfull family to morne? ELE. By treaſon that my mother wrought, my Father lieth ſlayne, And drincking of their fathers cup the chyldren doe complayne. Aegiſt engroceth Caſte s got by fornication. STR. A lack that of ſo longe a tyme, filicity is none. ELE. I thee requeſt euen for the Ioue my father thou doeſt owe, And for the honour of the crowne, whoſe brute abrode both growe In euery coaſt: and by the Gods that diuerſly doe deale, Take into thy tuicion, conuey away, and ſteale, This poore Oreſt: ſuch kinde of theft is piety in deede. STR. Although that Agamemnoas death doth teach mee to take heede, Yet will I vndertake the ſame, and with all diligence Oreſtes ſhall I goe about with ſtrength to haue thee hence. Proſperity requireth faith, but trouble exacts the ſame, Haue heere a pryce for thoſe that doe contende and wage in game. An Ornament with comely grace ordaynde to deck the brow, And let thy heade be couerde with this greene and pleaſaunt bow. And cary this victorious triumphant braunche in hand. God graunt this Paulme that planted was in fertill Piſa land, (Where ſolemne games were celebrate Ioues honour to expreſſe) May both a ſauegarde bee to thee, and bring thee good ſucceſſe. Thou that beſtryds thy fathers ſteedes, as he before hath done, Goe ſtryke a league of amity with Pylades my ſonne. Now nimble Nagges let Greece heereof recording teſtify, With headlong ſcouring courſe amayne this traytrous country fly. ELE. Hee is eſcapte a d gone, and with vnmeaſurable might The Chariot horſe with rayne at will doe ſcud out of my ſight. Now free from perill on my foes attendaunce will I make. And offer willingly my head the deadly wounde to take. The cruell conquereſſe of her ſpouſe is come, whoſe ſpotted weede With ſprinkels (ſigne of ſlaughter) doe beare recorde of her deede. Her goary handes new bathde in bloude as yet they bee not dry, Her rough and churliſhe rigorous lookes the fact doe notify. Unto the Temple will I trudge. Caſſandra ſuffer mee, Oppreſt with egall griefe, take parte of ſacrifice with thee.
THE FIFTE ACTE. THE FOVRTH SCENE. Clytemneſtra. Electra. AEgiſthus. Caſſandra. O Thou thy Mothers Enemy, vngracious ſaucy face. After what ſorre doſt thou a mayde appeare in publyque plate? ELEC. I haue wyth my virginity the bowres of Baudes forſooke. CLY. What man is het, that euer thee to bee a vyrgin tooke? E. What your own daughter? C. With thy mother more modeſt ſhould, EL. Doe you at length begin to preach, ſuch godlines to me. thou be. CL. A marily ſtomacke ſtout thou baſt with ſwelling hawty hart. Subdued with ſorrow learne thou ſhall to play a womans part. EL. A ſwerd and buckler very well a woman doth beſeeme, (Except I dote.) CL. Thy ſelfe doſt thou haylefellowe wt vs eſteeme? EL. What Agamemnoon new is this, whom thou haſt got of late? CL. Hereafter ſhall I tame, and teach thy gyrliſh tongue to prate. And make thee know, how to a Queene thy taunting to forbeare. EL. The whilſt (thou Wyddow) aūſware me directly to this geare. Thy huſband is bereued quight of breath, his lyfe is donne. CL Enquter where thy brother is, ſo ſeeke about my ſonne. EL. Hee is departed out of Greece. CL. Goe fetch him out of hande. EL. Fetch thou my father vnto mee. CL. Giue me to vnderſtande, Where doth he lurking hyde his head? where is he ſhrunke away? EL. All plunge of perills paſt hee is, and at a quiet ſtay, And in another Kyngdome where no harme hee doth miſtruſt, This aunſwere were ſufficient, to pleaſe a Parent tuſt. But one whoſe breaſt doth boyle in wrath, it cannot ſatiſefy. CL. To day by death thou ſhalt receyue thy fatall deſtiny. EL. On this condition am I pleaſde, the Aulter to forſake, If that this hanc ſhall doe the deede, my death when I ſhall take. Or els if in my throate to bath thy blade, thou doe delight, Moſt willingly I yeelde my throate, and giue thee leaue to ſmite. Or if thou will chop of my heade in brutiſhe beaſtly guiſe, My necke a wayting for the wounde out ſtretched ready lies. Thou haſt committed ſinfully a great and grieuous guilt. Goe purge thy hardned hands, the which thy huſbands bloud haue ſpilt. CL. O thou that of my perills all doſt ſuffer part with mee, And in my realme doſt alſo rule with egall dignity, Aegiſthus, art thou glad at this? (as doth her not behoue,) With checks and taunts y daughter doth her mothers mallice moue. Shee keepes her brothers counſell cloſe conueyde out of the way. AEGI. Thou mal pert and w tleſſe wenche, thyne cluiſhe prating ſtay, Refrayne thoſe wordes vnfit thy Mothers glowing cares to vex. EL. What ſhall the breeder of this broyle controll me with his checks, Whoſe fathers gutit hath cauſed him to haue a doubtfull name, Who both is to his ſiſter, ſonne, and Nephew to the ſame? CL. To ſnap her head of with thy ſwerd Aegiſt doſt thou refrayne? Let her giue vp the ghoſt: or bryng her brother ſtraight agayne: Let her be lockt in dungeon darck, and let her ſpend her dayes, In Caues & Rocks, with painefull pangues, torment her euery wayes. I hope him whom ſhe hidden hath ſhee will agayne diſcry, Through being clapt in pryſon ſtrong and ſuffring pouerty With yrkſome and vnſauory ſmells on euery ſyde annoyde, Enforſt to weare a wyddowes weede, er wedding day enioyde: Put in exile and baniſhment when eche man doth her hate: So ſhall ſhe bee by miſery compeld to yeelde to late, Prohibyted of holſome ayre fruition to haue. EL. Graunt me my dome by meanes of death to paſſe vnto my graue. CL. I would haue graunted it to thee, if thou ſhould it deny. Unſkilfull is the tyraunt, who by ſuffring wretches dy Doth ende theyr paynes. EL. what after death doth any thing remayne? CL. And if thou doe deſyre to dye, the ſame ſee you refrayne. Lay hands ſ is on this wondrous wretch, whom being caryed on, Euen to the furtheſt corner of my iuriſdiction. Farre out beyond Mycoenas land in bonds let her be bound, With darkneſſe diui in hiddeous holde let her be cloſed round. This captiue Spouſe and wicked Queane, the Trull of Prynces bed Shall pay her paynes, and ſuffer death by ſo •• ng of her head. Come, hale her on, that ſhe may followe, that way my ſpouſe is gon, Whoſe loue from mee entiſed was. CAS. Doe not thus hale mee on. I will before you take the way, theſe tydings firſt to tell Vnto my countrey men of Troy beneath in loweſt hell. How ouerquelmed ſhips ech where are ſpread the ſeas vppon: And M coene countrey conquerde, is brought in ſubiection. He that of thouſand captaynes was graunde captayne generall, Come to as great calamity as Troy it ſelfe did fall, Entrapped was by traytrous trayne, and whoredome of his Wyfe, And by a gyft receaued of her, depriued of his Lyfe. Let vs not linger: on with mee, and thankes I doe you giue. I oy, that it might be my hap, thus after Troy to liue. CL. Go to, prepare thy ſelfe to dye thou frantique raging wight. CAS. The franſy fits of fury fell on you ſhall alſo light. EVRIBATES. Added to the Tragedy, by the Tranſlator. ALas yee hatefull helliſh Hagges, yee furies foule and fell, Why cauſe yee ruſty rancours rage in noble heartes to dwell? And cancred hate in boyling breaſtes to grow from age to age? Coulde not the graundſtres paynefull pangues the childrens wrath aſſwage? Nor famyne faynt of pyning paunche, with burning thyrſt of hell, Amid the blackeſt ſtreame of Sticks where poyſning breathes do dwel. Where vapors bile parbraking out from dampiſhe myry mud, Encreaſe the paynes of Tantalus deſerude by guiltles bloud, Could not thine owne offence ſuffice Thyeſtes in thy Lyfe, To file thy brothers ſpouſall Bed, and to abuſe his Wyfe? But after breath from body fled, and Lyfe thy Lymmes hath left, Can not remembraunce of reuenge out of thy breaſt be reft? What, yet haſt thou not layde thy lips, taiaſte of Lethes floude? Now afte death why doſt thou come to moue thy ſonne to bloude? Coulde cruell Ditis graunt to thee thy paſporte backe agayne? To worke this woe vpon the world, and make ſuch rigour raygne, That Clytemneſtra is become the fifty ſiſter dyre Of Danaus daughters, that did once theyr huſbands death conſpyre. Loe here how fickle fortune giues but brytle fading ioy. Lot, hee who late a Conquerour tryumphed ouer Troy, Enduring many ſrtudy ſtormes with mighty toyle and payne To ſowe the ſeede of fame, hath reapt ſmall fruite thereof agayne. When as his honour budding forth with flowre began to bloome, (Alas) the ſtocke was hewed downe and ſent to deadly doome. And they that of his victory and comming home were glad, To ſodayne mourning chaunge their myrth with heauineſſe beſtad. The luſty pompe of royall courte is deade: (O dolefull day) The people mone theyr prynces death with woe and weale away: With howling crying, wringing hands, with ſobs, wt ſighes, & teares, And wt their fiſts they beate their breaſts, they pull & hale their heares. And as the ſheepe amaſed run, and rampe aboute the fielde, When as theyr ſhepherd to the Wolfe his goary throate doth yeelde Euen ſo as mad they rage and raue throughout Micoenas land, Depriued of theyr Prynce, they feare the bloudy Tyrauntes hand. While thus were woefull waylings hard in euery place about, The good Caſſandra (come from Troy) to death is haled out. Like as the Swan, who when the time of death approcheth nye, By nature warned is thereof, and pleaſed well to dye, Doth celebrate her funerall with dirge and ſolemne ſonge: Euen ſo the noble vyrgin who in woe hath liued longe, Moſt ioyfull goes ſhe to her death with milde and pleaſaunt face, Stout bouiſtring out her burly breaſt with pryncely porte and grace. Nothing diſmayde with courage bolde, and chearefull countenaunce, On ſtage ordeyned for her death ſhee gan her ſelfe aduaunce: As though ſhe had not thyther come, to leaue her lothſome lyfe, As though ſhe had not come, to taſte the ſtroke of fatall knyfe. But euen as it in brydale bed her iourney were to meete Corebus deare, not hauing mynde of death, nor winding ſheete, When looking rounde on euery ſide ſhe tooke her leaue of all, From vapourde eyes of younge and olde the trickling teares doe fall. The Greekes them ſelues to griefe are moude to ſee this heauy ſight, So pity pearſt the headmans heart, that thriſe aboute to ſmite He ſtayde the ſmot: with ſhiuering hand yet once agayne he tryed. And from her ſhoulders ſtroke her heade. And thus the vyrgin dyed. But now the Greekes another cauſe of mourning haue in hand: Oreſters, Agamemnon ſome, is forſt to fly the land. Amonge olde rotten ragged Rockes there lies an vgly place. A Dungeon deepe, as darke as hell, vnknowne to Phoebus face. An holow huge wyde gaping hole, with way ſtill bending downe, Whoſe mouth with venonous wythred weedes is hid and ouergrowne, Where ſtinking ſmels come belching out from filthy durty dyke. Where Verment vyle doe creepe and craule, in hell is not the lyke. Ilfauourde, foule miſſhapen bugges, doe lucke about this caue, With dreadfull ſounds, and roaring noyſe withing the pit they raue. Euen heather is Electra ſent, in darckeneſſe deepe to lye, In pouerty, and comfortleſſe without the lyght of ſkye, Faſt clogde with Yron boults and Chaynes, thus by her mother layde In torments, till by her to death Oreſtes be betrayde: Who (as Caſſandra telleth) ſhall reuenge his fathers death, Depryue with ſwerd th'adulterour, and Mother both of breath. So after all theſe bloudy broyle, Greece neuer ſhall bee free: But bloud for bloud, and death by turnes, the after age ſhall ſee. FINIS.
THE NINTHE Tragedy of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, called Octauia. Tranſlated out of Latine into Engliſhe by T.N. The Argument. OCtauia daughter to prince Claudius grace, To Nero eſpouſd, whom Claudius did adopt (Although Syllanus firſt in huſbandes place Shee had receiu'd, whom ſhe for Nero chopt) Her parente both, her Make that ſhould haue bene, Her huſbandes preſent. Tiranny much more, Her owne eſtate, her caſe that ſhe was in, Her brothers death (pore wretch) lamenteth ſore. Him Seneca doth perſuade his latter loue, Dame Poppie, Criſpynes wife that ſome time was, And eake Octauias maide for to remoue. For Senecks counſel he doth lightly paſſe But Poppie ioynes to him in marriage rites, The people wood into his pallace runne, Hir golden fourmed ſhapes which them ſore ſpytes, They pul to ground: this vprore now begunne, To quench, he ſome to grieſly death doth ſend But her cloſe caſed vp in dreadful barge, With her vnto Campania coaſt to wend, A band of armed men, he gane in charge.
THE FIRST SCENE. The Speakers names. Octauia, Nutrix, Chorus Romanorum, Seneca, Nuntius, Agrippina, Poppea, Nero. Praefectus. Octauia. NOw that Aurore with glitteryng ſtreames, The glading ſtarres from ſkye doth chaſe, Syr Phoebus pert, with ſpouting beames, From dewy neaſt doth mount apace: And with his cheerefull lookes doth yeeld, Vnto the world a gladſome day. Go to, O wretch, with ample Fielde Of heauy cares oppreſſed aye, Thy grieuous wonted playntes recount: Do not alone with ſighes and howles, The Seayſh Aloyones ſurmounte, But alſo paſſe the Pandyon foules: More yrkſome is thy ſtate then theirs O Mother deare whoſe death by fits, I nyll lament but ſtill ſhed teares, My ground of griefe in thee it ſits. If that in ſhade of darkſome denne, Perceiuing ſence at al remayne, Heare out at large, O mother then, My great complayntes, and grieuous payne O that immortall Clothos wriſt, Had torne in twayne my vitall thred: Ere I vnto my griefe had wiſt Thy woundes, and face of ſanguine red. O day which aye doth me annoy: Since that tyme did I more deſyre, The feareful darknes to enioy, Than Phoebus freſh with fayre attyre. I haue abode the bitter heſt Of ſtepdame dire, in mothers place, I haue abode her cruell breaſt, Hir ſtomake ſtout, and fighting face. She, Shee, for ſpyte vnto my caſe, A doleful, and a graue Eryn, To Bridegromes chamber ſpouſall ſpace, The Stygian flaſhing flames brought in. And thee, (alas) moſt piteous Syre, With traytrous traynes hath ſhee bereft Of breathing ſoule with poyſoned myre: To whom ere whyle, the world all left Vnvanquiſht from the Ocean Seas By martiall feats did freely yeeld: And didſt ſubdue with wondrous eaſe, The Brittayne brutes that fledde the fielde: Whom liuing at their propre ſwaye: No Romayne power did earſt inuade. Now lo (ful wel lament I may) Thy Spouſe deceypte thy prowes hath lade And now thy court and child of yore, With homage ſerue a Tyrantes lore.
THE SECOND SCENE. Nutrix. WHom ſo the gliſtering pompe of royal place, With ſoden ſight ynumd doth quite diſgrace, Who ſo at courtly fleeting ebbing blaſe, Aſtonied ſore, himſelfe doth much amaſe: Lo ſee of late the great and mighty ſtocke, By lurking Fortunes ſodayne forced knocke, Of Claudius quite ſubuert and cleane extinct: Tofore, who held the world in his precinct: The Brittayne Ocean coaſt that long was free, He ruld at wil, and made it to agree, Their Romaine Gallies great for to embrace. Lo, he that Tanais people firſt did chaſe, And Seas vnknowen to any Romayne wight With luſty ſheering ſhippes did ouerdight, And ſafe amid the ſauage freakes did fight, And ruffling ſurging ſeas hath nothing dread, By cruel ſpouſes gilt doth lye all dead. Her ſonne likewyſe more fiend then Tigre fierce, Of naturall mother makes a funerall her ſe, Whoſe brother drenched deepe with poyſoned cup. Pore Britannick, his ſenſeles ſoule gaue vp Octauia ſiſter and vnhappy make, Doth ſore lament her caſe for Britans ſake, Ne can her ruthful piteous ſorrow ſlake, Though Neros wrath do ſore conſtrayne her grace She nil eſteemes the ſecrete cloſet place: But boyling ſtil with equal peyſd diſdayne. With mutuall hate gaynſt him doth burne agayne. My true and truſty loue that I do beare, In vayne I ſee doth ſtriue to comfort her, Reuenging greedy griefe doth ſtreight repriue, T'appeaſe her ſmarte the counſel that I giue, Nor flame of worthy breaſt doth once relent But heaps of greefe, her courage do augment. Alas, what grieſely deedes for to enſue My feare foreſeeth: God graunt it be not true.
THE THIRD SCENE. Octauia, Nutrix. O Staggering ſtate, O peereleſſe yll: With eaſe Electra I repeate, And call to mynd thy mourning will. With watred eies like ſmartīg ſweat Thou mightſt lament thy father ſlain, Stil hoping that thy brother myght, That deadly deede reuenge agayne. Whom thou O tender louing wight Didſt ſafely ſhield from bloudy foe, And naturall loue did cloſely kepe: But Neroes dreaded viſage loe, Doth feare me that I dare not weepe, Nor wayle my parentes ruchful caſe, By cruell lot this ſlaughter cought: Ne ſuffers mee this geniall face, To daſh with teares to dearely bought With brothers bloud: who onely was Myne onely hope in all my griefe, And of ſo many miſchieues, as My comfort greate, and ſole reliefe. Now loe reſerud for greater care, And to abyde more lingring payne, Of noble famous lineage bare, A drouping ſhade I do remayne. Nutrix. My Ladyes heauye voyce mee thought Within my liſtning eares can ſounde, And ſnayliſh age in going ſoft, Vnto her thews in not ybounde. Octauia. O Nurſe our dolours witnes ſure By curroll cheekes diſtilling rayne, And heauy heartes complaynt endure. Nutrix. Alas, what day ſhall ridde of payne, With care your welnye waſted heart? Octauia. That ſends this guiltles ghoſt to graue Nutrix. This talke (good madame) ſet apart. Octauia. In rule my ſtate theire deſtenies haue, And not thy prayers, (O matrone) iuſt. Nutrix. The doune ſoft eaſy God ſhall geue, Your troubled mynd a tyme I truſt, More ſweete then euer you did liue. With feuell fayre as one content, And gloſed face, but onely pleaſe Your man, and make, he will relent. Octauia. The Lyon fierce I ſhall appeale, And ſooner tame the Tygre ſtoute, Then mankynd Tyrantes brutiſh breaſt, He ſpytes the noble raced out, Contemmes hygh powers, diſdaynes the leaſt: Ne can wel vſe that princely weede, Which venemous parent wrapt him in By huge vnſpeakeable grieſly deede. Although that wight vnthankful, grynne, In Kingly throne that hee doth raygne, Throughe cruel curſed mothers ayde: Although hee pay with Death agayne So greate a gift, it ſhal be ſayde And after fates in long ſpent age, That woman wight ſhal haue alwaye, This eloge yet and ſaying ſage, That he by her doth beare the ſway, Nutrix. Let not your ragious mynde ſo walke, But doe compreſſe your moody talke.
THE FOVRTH SCENE. Octauia, Nutrix. THough much I beare that boyling breſt do beate And tollerably take diuor cements threate, Deathes only deadly darte, I ſee an end, Of al my broyle and pinching payne can ſend, What pleaſant light to me (O wretch) is left, My natural Mother ſlayne, and Syre be reft, Of breathing life, by treaſon, and by gilt: Of Brother eake depriude: with miſeryes ſpilt: And wayling ouercome: kept downe with care, Enuyed of Make, which I dare not declare. To mayden ſubiect now, and now defied: What pleaſant light can me (O wretch) abyde, With feareful hart ſuſpecting always ought: Becauſe I would no wicked deede were wroughte: Not that I feare Deathes grieſly gyrning face, God graunt I do not ſo reuenge my caſe, A better deede to dye: for to behold The Tyrantes viſage gri ••• e, with browes vprolde And with ſoft tender lippes my foe to kiſſe, And ſtand in awe of beckes and noddes of his, Whoſe will to pleaſe my griefe with cares yfirde Since brothers death by wicked wyle conſpirde, Could neuer once vouchſafe for to ſuſtayne, Leſſe griefe to die, then thus to liue in payne. His Empyre Nero rules and ioyes in blood: The cauſe and ground of death that Tirant wood. How oft (alas) doth Fanſie fondly fayne. Whē ſlumber ſwete in penſiue parts doth raigne, And ſleepe in eyes, all tyrd with teares doth reſt, I apprehend deare Brittans liuely breſt: Ere whyle me thinkes his feble ſhiuering hands He fenſeth ſure with deadly blaſing brandes, And fiercely on his brother Neros face, With ſturdy ſtinging ſtroakes he flies apace. Ere whyle thilke wretch recoyleth backe agayne, And to my thewes for aide retyres amayne: Him foming foe purſues with haſt to haue: And whyle my brother I deſire to ſaue, And in my claſped armes to ſhield him free, His goary bloudied falchion keene I ſee. The boyſterous raumping fiend to ugge, & hale Through out my hiuering limmes, as aſhes pale. Forthwith a mighty trembling chattering quake From weary lims all ſouple ſleepe doth ſhake, And makes me woeful wretch for to recount, My wayling ſobbing ſorrowes that ſurmount. Hereto, put to that gorgeous ſtately 〈◊〉 ouſe, All gliſtring bright, with ſpoyles of Claudius houſe His parent deare in bubling boate did douſe, That wicked ſonne, this fiſking dame to pleaſe. Whom yet eſcaping daungers great of Seas. He fiercer freake than waues that ſcantly reſt, VVith bloudy blade hir bowels did vnbreſt. VVhat hope of health, can me, O wretch, abyde, That after them thilke way I ſhould not ryde? My ſpeciall foe, triumphant wiſe doth weight, VVith naked nates to preſſe by louers ſleight, Our ſpouſall, pure, and cleane vnſpotied bed: Gainſt whom, ſhe burns, with deadly foode bloud red. And, for a meede of filthy ſtrumpets ſport, She cauſeth Make from ſpouſe for to diuort. O auncient Syre, ſtep forth from Limbo lake, Thy daughters heauy troublous cares to ſlake: Or your twygated hellyſh porche vnfolde, That downe through gaping ground I may bee rolde. Nu. O piteous wretch, in vaine, (alas) in vaine Thou calſt vpon thy fathers ſenſeleſſe ſprite: In whome, God wot, there doth no care remaine Of mortall broode, that here doth take delight. Shall he, thinke you, aſſwage your ſory cheere, Or ſhape you forth ſome ſleight, t appall your paine, That could preferre, before his Brittan deere, Th'imperiall throne, a ſtraunge begotten ſwaine? And with inceſtiall loue benummed quyte His brother Germanicks daughter that could plyght, And ioyne to him in ſolemne mariage rites, VVith woefull, and vnlucky louers lightes? Here ſprang the roale of hurly burly great, Here beaſtly veuomous ſlaughter gan to ſweate, Here wylie treaſons traines appeared firſt, Here rules deſire, and brutiſh bloudy thirſt. Syllanus firſt Prince Claudius ſonne in lawe, A bloudy mangled offring fall we ſawe, That in our graces Hymaenea bed, Ymatcht with you, he might not couche his hed. O monſtrous ſlaughter, worthy endleſſe blame : In ſteade of gift vnto that wanton dame, A Carkaſſe colde pore ſoule, and cureleſſe corſe, Sillane was giuen againſt his will perforce. And falſly then attacht of traitors crime, As one conſpyring death in Claudius time, VVith lothſome ſtreakes ſpewde out vpon the wall, He all bedaſht your fathers princely hall. Eft ſtepped into ſeruile Pallace ſtroke, To filthy vices lore, one eaſly broke. Of Diueliſh wicked with this Princocks proude: By ſtepdames wyle prince Claudius Sonne auoude. VVhome deadly damme did bloudy match ylight: And thee, againſt thy will, for feare did plight. Through which ſucceſſe this Dame of corage fine, Durſt venture, mighty Ioue to vndermine. VVho can ſo many curſed kindes report Of wicked hopes, and actes in any ſort, Or ſuch a womans gloſed guyles can name, That raumpes at rule, by all degrees of ſhame? Then holy ſacred zeale put out of grace, Her ſtagring ſteppes, directed forth apace, And ſterne Erinnis in with deadly ſteps, To Claudius Court, all deſert left yleps. And with hir dririe drakes of Stygian fort, Hath quite diſtainde the ſacred princely port. And raging riuen in twaine both natures lore, And right to wrongs miſhapen fourme hath tore. That haughty minded dame firſt gaue her make, A deadly poyſoned cup, his thyrſt to ſlake. Straight wayes againe through viſe vnkindly touch, Her Nero cauſde with him in hell to couch. And thee, vnhappy Britt, in all that broyle, Till that of breth, and life he did diſpoyle, Thilk greedie bloudy tyraunt neuer ſtent: VVhoſe dolefull death for aye we may lament. Ere whyle, vnto the world the ſtarre that ſhone, And was the ſtay of princely court alone, Now loe, light aſhes eaſly puft aforne, And grieſly goaſt to graue with torche yborne. VVhom bleſſed Babe, thy ſtepdame did lament: Nor from hir guſhing teares, did ſcarce relent, VVhen as ſhee gaue eche trimme appointed parte, And goodly portraide limmes with natures arte, Of flaming ſtacke to be deuoured quite, And ſawe the ſcortching feruent fire in ſight Thy naked ioynts to rauin vp a pace And like the flittring God thy comely face. Oct. Diſpatch he me leaſt with this hand he fall. Nut. That power you, nature graunted not at all. Oct. But wondrous dolor, great and wrathfull yre, And miſeries will it graunt without deſyre. Nu. Nay rather cauſe your angry moody make, VVith ſouple cheere his fury for to ſlake. Oct. VVhat, that he will by guilt once ſlaine before, Aliue againe my brother mee reſtore? Nut. Nay, ſafe that you may liue and iſſue beare: Your fathers auncient court for to repayre. Oct. That court doth wayte another broode they ſay. And poore Britts death tugges me another way. Nut. Yet let the cities loue vnto your grace, Your troubled minde confirme but for a ſpace. Oct. Their mindes ſo preſt to pleaſure me, I know Great comfort brings: but do not ſlake my wo. Nut. Of mighty power the people haue bene aye. Oct. But princes force doth beare the greater ſway. Nut. He will reſpect his lawfull wedded wife, Oct. His mynion braue can not ſo leade her life. NV. Of no man ſhee eſteemde. Oct. But dear to make NV. She can not truely yet of wifehood crake. Oct. Ere longe ſhe ſhall a mother eke be made. So farre therein I dare moſt boldly wade. Nut. His youthfull heate at firſt in filthy loue, With luſty, cruſty pangs doth boyle aboue: Thylke corage quickly colde in luſt apace As vapour ſone extinct in flame giues place. But holy, louing, chaſte vnſpotted ſpouſe, Her loue endureth aye with ſacred vowes. That wanton firſt that there durſt couch hir hed, And tumbling ſtayned quite your ſpouſall bed, And being but your mayde hath ruled longe, Hir ſoueraine Lord, with beauties grace beſtong, That pranked Paramour pert ſhal croutch with pain, VVhen ſhe your grace ſhall ſee preferd againe. For Poppie ſubiect is, and meeke of ſpright, And now begins her goaſtly tombs to dight: VVhereby ſhe cloſely graunting doth bewray, Hir ſecret hidden feare eche other day. That ſwift, vnconſtant, double winged lad With cloute, before his blinded eyes, yclad, That fickle brayned God, thunhappy boy, Shall leaue hir in the midſt of all hir ioy: Although for beauty bright the bell ſhe beare, And goodly gliſtring garments new ſhe weare, And now do vaunt her ſelfe in gorgeous geere, Shee ſhall not long enioy this gladſome cheere. Be not diſmayde, Madame, for ſuch like paine, The queene of gods was forced to ſuſtaine, VVhen to ech pleaſaunt ſhape the heauenly guide, And ſyre of Gods y urnde, from ſkyes did glyde. The ſwannes white wings, to ſe how they could fadge He did on him, and ruckoldes bullyſh badge, That God ſhone bright in Golden raynie ſhowre To Danaes breſt through top of fortred towre. The twinckling ſtarres the twinnes of Laeda bright, Whom Pollux, ſome, and Caſtor, call aryght, In large and ample ſpace of ſtarry ſcope, With criſtal glimering faces ſhyne wyde ope. And Semeles ſonne, whom Bacchus we do call, In heauenly byrthright doth himſelfe yſtall. And Hercules that puiſſant Champion ſtoute, His ſturdy brawnes, his Hebe wyndes aboute. Nor once regardes how Goddeſſe Iuno fare: Whoſe lowring ſtepdame now ſhe is yframde, That whyle on earth his prowes he did declare, Agaynſt that maryage, aye, was ſore inflamd. Yet loe her wiſe, and cloſly couched greefe, Debonaire face, obeiſaunce to her leefe, Cauſde him at length his mynd for to remoue, Through mortall feeres eſtraundge from Iunos loue. And now that mighty heauenly Goddeſſe great, No more adred of mortall ſtrumpets feat, Aloft alone in cloudy bowre contentes The thundring Lord, which now to her relentes. Nor now with earthly Ladyes beauty bright Yfyred, leaues his ſtarry ſpecked right. Now madam ſith on earth your powre is pight And haue on earth Queene Iunos princely place, And ſiſter are, and wyfe to Neroes grace, Your wondrous reſtles dolours great appeaſe. Oct. Nay, ſooner ſhall the roaring froathy ſeas, And mounting flaſhing flawes ymatch the ſkye, And ſmoaking, ſtifling parching fyer drye With dankiſh pooles agree and watrye fenne: And grieſly Plutoes filthy feltred denne, With ſtarbright heauen ſhal ſooner coupled be, And ſhyning light with glomy ſhades agree, And with the cleere drye day the dewy night, Than vnto ſeruile lore of huſbande wight, That brutiſh wyſe in bloud takes his delight, My heauy woeful mynd can I addreſſe, Whyle brothers death my heart doth ſtil poſſeſſe. O that of heauenly powers the prince and ſyre, That ſhogges and ſhakes the earth with thūdring fyre, And with his wondrous, feareful, curſed crackes, And ſtraunge miſhapen monſters which he makes, Our feareful muſing myndes doth ſore amaſe, Would coyne ſome cureles burning wildfyre blaſe, To pelt and paſh with thumping fyer bright, That diueliſh pate, that cruell curſed wight. We ſaw from heauen, with beames forthſhoting farre Doubtles a dreadful heary, blaſing ſtarre: That ſpouted out a mortall fiery flake, Whoſe force a princes bloud can only ſlake: Euen where that hayting carman ſloe Boote With chilling cold al ſtarcke of froſen pole, Doth guyde aright Charles whirling running rote, In ſteade of night that neuer away doth role. Loe now the open ayre in euery ſtreate, With doggiſh tyrantes breath, is poyſoned, quite, And dreadful ſtarres ſome ſodayne death do threate. To people rulde, by wicked Neroes ſpright. So ſterne a freake, or mankynd tyrant ſtoute, Not Tellus with the Gods diſpleaſd brought out, When mighty Ioue neglected ſhe vphorlde Huge, vgly, monſtrous Typhon to the worlde. A ſorer plague, a cleaner ſcouryng ſcourge, With bloudy pawes that cityes boundes doth purge, Is Nero dyre, this cruell curſed wyght. That doth himſelfe gaynſt God and man ydyght: And thruſtes from ſacred ſhrynes their quiet porte, And goodly temples gay he ſancted ſort: That cittyes dwellers puts from countries fort: That hath bereft his brother of his lyfe, And launcht his mothers ſides with goary knyfe: Yet doth this preſent lightſome day enioye And leades his lyfe, that doth vs ſore annoy. O Father of heauen, in vayne why doſt thou throwe Thy great vnuanquiſht ratling thundring blowe Vppon the whiſtling woods and ample ſeas, With force of princely power thy wrath t'appeaſe? Ou ſuch an hurtful and pernicious freake, Thy due and iuſt conceyued yre to wreake. Why ſtay thy mighty puiſſaunt braunds ſo long, Ere thou fling downe thy ratling cracking throng? O Lord, that Nero once might pay the price, Of all his deuiliſh deedes, and euery vyce, Th'whole wyde worlds tyrant ſterne wher he a ſtroke Doth beare: which he ouerlades with burdnous yoke Of princely ſyre yborne, but doth defame, With beaſtly manners vyle his princely name: Nun. Vnworth he is your ſpouſall chamber place: But yet your deſtnies force, you muſt imbrace, And wel, abyde your fortunes crooked race: Nor moue vnkyndly Neroes gauly yre. One day perchaunce, there wil as I deſyre, Some God reuenge your lamentable caſe: And once I truſt a gladſome day ſhal be, When you ſhal ioy a freſh in wonted place. Oct. Ah. no, now, long this court (alas) we ſee With heauy wrath of Gods diſpleaſed yre Hath ouercharged bene: which Venus dyre With Meſſalinas monſtrous ramping luſt, Shee firſt hath brought adowne into the duſt. Who madly maryed to prince Claudius grace, But little myndful then of that ſame caſe, And not regarding much thappoynted payne, With curſed creſſets maried once againe. To which vnlucky inceſtuall brydall bed, That droſell dyre that furious ſlut Erin, With hanging hayre aboute her helliſh hed, And gyrt with ſnakes with deadly ſtep went in. And flaming brandes from ſpouſall chamber cought, In both their blouds ybathd, hath quenched cleane: And hath incenſt prince Claudius burning thought In bloudy thratling ſtroake to paſſe all meane. My mother firſt of wretches all the moſt, With ſtripe of deadly ſword gaue vp her ghoſt. And now extinguiſht quite, left me forlorne, With dolours pyning panges and mourning worne. And after her in helliſh teame doth hayle, Vnto the ſenſeles ſoules of Plutoes iaile Her make, and Brittannick her ſonne that way: And firſt this ruinous court did ſhe betray. Nut. Let be, Madame, with teares your face to dight: Ne ſo renew your bitter wayling iuſt: Ceaſſe troubling now your parents piteous ſpright, That payed hath the price of raging luſt.
THE FIFT SCENE. Chorus. God graunt the talke wee hearde of late, To rashly truſted euery where, And blowne abroad through each eſtate, No badge of truth that it may beare. And that no fresh eſpouſed dame, Our Princes thewes do enter in, But that OCTAVIA keepe the ſame, And that the ſeede of GLADIV Skin, May once bringforth ſome pledge of peace: That to the world reſt may redowne, And wrangling ſtryfe may eaſly ceaſe, And Rome retayne her great renowne. The peerleſſe Princeſſe Iuno hight, Her brothers wedlocke yoke retaynes: VVhy is AVGVSTVS ſister bright, VVhere like betroathed league remaynes, From ſtately pompe of court reiect, VVhat doth deuoutnes her auayle? To ſayncted ſyre who hath reſpectt? VVhat doth her Virgins life preuayle? And CLAVDIV Snow in ground ylayed, Euen wee to much vnmyndefull be: VVhoſe worthy ſteme we haue betrayed Throught feare that made vs to agree. In breaſt our elders did embrace, The perfect Romayne puiſſaunce, The true vnſtayned worthy race, And bloud of Mars they did aduaunce. The proude and lofty ſtomackt trayne Of luſty hauty mynded Kinges, They could not ſuffer to remayne VVithin this noble Cities winges. And iuſtly they reuengd thy death, O Virgin chaſt, VIRGINIA pure, Depriude by ſyre of vitall breath, That bondage thou mightſt not endure: And that his ſhameles brutish lust, So good a meede might not enioy: Although by filthy force vniust Thy chaſtity he would annoy. Thee likewyſe whom thyne owne right hande, VVith ſword did pearce, LVCRETIA true, VVho tyrantes rape could not withſtand, Did bloudy broyles and warres enſue ANd with her proude diſdaynfull Make Lord TARQVIN ympe of curſed ſeede, Correction due doth TVLLIA take For her vnkindly ſhameles deede, VVho on her Fathers mangled corſe, To miſchiefe bent, and wicked bane, The Carman shee to driue did force, His cruell bruſing wombling wane. And quite agaynst all natures law, Euen from her owne diſmembred yre, The ſacred rytes she did withdraw, Denaying wonted burial fire This griefe our woeful age doth feele, Through monſtruous act agaynst all kinde, VVhen as in deadely crafty keele, To TYRRHEN ſeas, and wrastling wynd, The proude preſuming Prince did put, His mother trapt in ſubtil ſort The Mariners appoynted cut, The ſwelling Seas from pleaſaunt port. The clash reſoundes with ſtroake of Ores, The Ship out launcht apace doth ſpinne, In ſurging froath aloofe from ſhores, And ample courſe of ſeas doth winne. VVhich glydyng forth with leuſned plankes, In preſſed ſtreames with peyſed weight, The riftes do open cloſed crankes, That hidden were with ſecrete ſleight: And gulpeth vp the leaking waue The woeful roaring noyſe and crye, VVith womans shrikes themſelues to ſaue Do reach and beate the ſtarry ſkye. Then grie ly preſent death doth daunce Before their eyes with pyning Cheekes: VVhoſe deadly ſtroake and heauy chaunce For to auoyde, then each man ſeekes: On ryuened ribs ſome naked lie, And cutte the beating waues in twayne: And ſome theyr ſkilful ſwimming trye, To get vnto the shore agayne. The greateſt part that ſayled there, By deſtnies dire to men prefixt, In whirling ſwallowes drowned were, The brinkes of Seas and ground betwixt. Queene AGRIPPYNE her garments rendes, Shee teares her ruffled lockes of hayre Abundant blubbring teares she ſpendes, Through deepe diſtreſſe of faynting feare. VVho when no hope of health shee ſpies, Enflamde with wrath, which woes appeaſde, O ſonne, for ſo greate giftes, ſhee cryes, Hast thou with ſuch reward me pleaſd? This keele I haue deſerued ſure, That bare and brought thee first to light: VVho empyre witles did procure, And CAESARS title for thy ryght. Shew forth thy feareful ſpritish face, O CLADIVS now from Limbo lake, And of thy wyfe in wretched caſe, Reuenge and due correction take. Thy deth I cauſeles did conſpyre, VVhich now I rue with woeful harte: I dreſſed eake a funerall fyre Vnto thy ſonne by deadly ſmart. Lo now as I deſerued haue, Vntombde go to thy guiltles Ghoſt, Encloaſd in ſeas in ſtead of graue, And wreſtling waues of Romayne coaſt. The flaſshing flawes do flappe her face, And on her ſpeaking mouth do beate, Anone shee ſinkes a certayne ſpace, Depreſſed downe with ſurges grea: Anone shee fleetes on weltring brim, And pattes them of with tender handes Through faynting feare then taught to ſwim Approaching death, and fates withſtandes At length on troubled Seas diſplayde Shee geuing ouer working vayne And tyrd with streames is weary layd, Not able toyling ſtrength to strayne In cloſe and ſecrete ſilent breaſtes, Of mates with her to ſea that yode, In whom no feare of death there restes True fayth vnto theyr Queene abode. Theyr Ladyes weather beaten limmes To helpe, ſome freely venter dare, Some in the combrous waters ſwymmes And deſperate daunger do not ſpare. VVith cheereful voyce they comfort her, Though drawling dragling limmes ſhee drew, To lift her vp with helpe they ſtirre, And nummed corpes to ſtrength renew. VVhat bootesit thee the death to shonne Of roaring raging rauening waues. From deadly ſword of wicked ſonne, Alas pore wretch thee nothing ſaues? VVhoſe huge and heinous curſed rage, Agaynſt all courſe of natures lore, Our after ſlow beleeuing age, VVil ſcarce beleene it done before, The deuilliſh man repynde with griefe VVhen he is mother ſaued ſawe, From ſwallowing ſeas haue ſafe releefe, And that she vitall breath did draw, He grudgde with griefe and in his heate, He huger miſchiefe heapes to this: He doth not once delay his feate, But headlong raſhly caryed is Vpon her death. A ſouldiour ſent, Diſpatcheth that he had in charge, His Ladies breaſt his blade doth rent: Shee yeelding vp her ſoulde at large, From wretched corpes for to entombe Her ſlaughter man ſhe then beſought, That bloudy blade within her wombe, That fyrſt this woe to her had brought, This, this accurſed breast (quoth ſhee) VVhich this vnkindly monſter bare, From pinching payne may not be free: Digge, ſlaſh the ſame, no miſchiefe ſpare. VVhen this with foltring tounge was ſayde, At laſt her ſad and trembling ghoſt, VVith latter ſobbing ſighes vnſtayd, Through goryd woundes leaues vitall coaſt.
THE SECOND ACTE
THE FIRST SCENE. Seneca. ON me with like conſent why didſt thou ſmile, With gloſed lookes deluding mee a whyle, O fortune much of might and princely powre? To lift aloft to noble royall bowre? To the'nde that I to honours court extold, From ſtately ſeate might haue the greater fall, And round aboute in euery place beholde, Such dreadful, threating daungers to vs all, I ſafer lay aloofe from enuyes knockes, Remou'd among the craggy corſicke rockes: Where as my mynd there free at proper ſway, With leyſure did repeate my ſtudies aye. A gladſome ioy alone it was to viewe, And earneſtly to marke the heauens ſo blew: And ſacred Phoebus double wheeled wayne: And eake the worldes ſwift whirling motion mayne. The Sunne ſo euen his ſecond courſe to keepe: And Phoebes glyding globe ſo ſwiftly ſweepe: Whom wondrous ſtarting ſtarres encompaſſe round. And to behold that ſhynes in euery ſtound, The gliſtring beauty bright of welkin wyde: Than which in al the world nothing beſyde. Of all this huge and endles worke the guyde, More wondrous nature fram'de that Ieſpyde, For all the bumping bignes it doth beare; Yet waxing old is like agayne to weare, And to be chaungde to an vnwyldy lumpe. Now preſt at hand this worldes laſt day doth iumpe, With boyſtrous fall, and tumbling ruſh of ſkye. To ſqueaſe and make this curſed kynd abye. That ſpringing once agayne, it may yeeld out An other ſtraunge renued vertuous route, As once before it did, new ſprong agayne, What tyme Saturnus held his golden raygne. That blameleſſe, chaſt, vnſpotted Virgin cleere A goddeſſe much of might clept Iuſtice heere, With ſacred ſooth ſent downe from heauenly ſpace, At eaſe on earth did rule the mortal race. That people playne knew not of warlicke feates. Nor trembling trompets tunes that rendes and beates The ſouldiers eares: nor chaſhing armont bright, That warring wightes defend in field and fight. Nor wonted was with walles to rampyre round, Their open cityes ſet in any ſtound. To each man paſſage free lay open than: Nothing there priuate was to any man. And then the ground it ſelfe and fertil ſoyle, Hir fruitful boſome baard all voyd of toyle, Into ſuch bounden barnes a Matrone good, And peaceable vnto ſo iuſt a broode. But then an other ſecond race aroſe, Perceyued not to be ſo meeke as thoſe. A third more wyſe and witty ſort vp ſtartes, Of nature forged fit, t'inuent new artes: As yet vnſpotted quite with filthy vyce. Soone after thoe, they raung d with new deuyce, That boldly venture dare in ſcudding race, Vnweldy beaſtes for to purſue apace. And mighty weying ſtrugling fiſhes great, With watry coats yclad with fiſhers feat, With net in window wyſe draw forth, and ſtreeke With craft of quill, the nibling fyſſhes cheeke. And ſilly byrdes begylde with pyning trayne: And light foote deare for lyfe that flyng amayne Intangling gins entrapt, that ſafely hold. And ſturdy ſcouling viſage buls controld, On fleſhye fillet neckes, make weare the yoake: And earth ere that vngrubbed vp that broake: Which then turnd vp with Plowmans ſhyning ſhare, In ſacred boſome deepe, her fruits kept thare. But now this age much worſe then all the reſt, Hath lept into her mothers broken breaſt: And ruſty lumpiſh yron and maſſye Gold, Hath digged out, that was quite hid with mold. And fighting fiſtes haue armd without delay: And drawing forth their bondes for rule to ſtay, Haue certayne ſeuerall ioly kingdomes made, And cities new haue rayſde now rulde with blade, And fenſeth eyther with their proper force Straūge ſtoundes or them aſſaults the which is worſe. The Starry ſpecked virgin flowre of ſkies. Which Iuſtice hight, that guilty folke diſcries, Now lightly eſteemd of mortall people here, Each earthly ſtound is fled, and comes not neere The ſauage mannerd route, and beaſtly rude, With dabbed wriſtes in goary bloud embrude. The great deſyre of grieſly warre is ſprong: And raping thurſt of gold, it is not young. Throughout the worlde a mighty monſtruous vice, Fowle, filthy, monſtruous luſt hath got the price, A pleaſaunt tickling plague, whom longer ſpace, And errour deepe haue foſtred vp apace. The heaps of vyce rakte vp in yeares long paſt, Abounding flowe in theſe our dayes at laſt. And this ſame troublous tyme, and combrous age, Oppreſſeth all men ſore, both yong and ſage. Wherein thoſe wicked wayes that be do raygne, And cruell, raumping woodnes boyles agayne. Luſt ſtrong in filthy touch, doth beare a ſway. And Princes, ryot, now doth catch away With greedy pawes, to bring it to decay. Th whole worldes vncredible wealth, without delay. But loe, which ſtaggring ſteppes where Nero flinges, And viſage grymme, I feare what newes hee brynges.
THE SECOND SCENE. THE SECOND ACTE Nero, Prefectus, Seneca. DIſpatch with ſpeede that we commaunded haue: Go, ſend forthwith ſome one or other ſlaue, That Plautius cropped ſcalpe and Sillas eke, May bring befor our face: goe ſome man ſeeke. Pre. I nill protract your noble graces heſt: But to their campes to goe am ready preſt. Se. Gaynſt lynage naught ſhould raſhly poynted bee. Ne. A light thing tis for to be iuſt, I ſee For him, whoſe heart is voyd of ſhrinking feare. Se. A ſoueraigne ſalue for feare is for to beare Your ſelfe debonair to your ſubiectes all. Ne. Our foes to ſlea, a cheftaynes vertue call. Se. A worthier vertue tis in countries ſyre, His people to defend with ſword and fyre. Ne. It wel beſeemes ſuch aged wightes, to teach, Vnbridled ſpringolles yong, and not to preache, Both to a man and prince of ryper yeares. Se. May, rather frolicke youthful bloud appeares, To haue more neede of counſell wyſe and graue Ne. This age ſufficient reaſon ought to haue. Se. That heauenly powers your doinges may allow. Ne A madnes t'were to Gods for me to bow, When I my ſelfe can make ſuch Gods to be: As Claudius now ycounted is we ſee. Se. So much the more becauſe ſo much you may. Ne. Our power permittes vs all without denay. Se. Geue ſlender truſt to Fortunes flattring face: She topſie turuy turnes her wheele apace. Ne. A patch he is that knoweth not what he may. Se. A Princes prayſe I compted haue alway, To do that ſame which with his honor ſtoode, Not that which franticke fancy counteth good. Ne. If that I were a meacocke or a ſlouch, Each ſtubborne, clubbiſh daw would make mee couch. Se. And whom they hate, with force they ouerquell. Ne. Then dynt of ſword the prince defendeth well. Se. But fayth more ſure defence doth ſeeme to mee. Ne. Ful meete it is that Caeſar dreaded be. Se. More meete of ſubiectes for to be belou'd Ne. From ſubiects myndes, feare muſt not be remou'd Se. What ſo by force of armes you do wringe out, A grieuous worke it is to bring aboute. Ne. Well hardly then our will let them obay. Se. Will nothing then, but that which wel you may. Ne. We wil decree what we ſhall beſt ſuppoſe. Se. What peoples voyce doth ioyntly bynd or loſe. Let that confirmed ſtand. Ne. Swordes bloudy dynt, Shal cauſe them elſe at me to take their hint. Se. God ſheeld, and far that facte from you remoue. Ne. What then, why Senec do you that approue, That we contemnde, deſpyſde and ſet at nought, With finger put in hole (ful wyſely wrought) Our bodies bloud to ſeeke ſhould them abyde, That they might vs ſometyme deſtroy vnſpyde? Their natiue countrey boundes to baniſht bee, Nor Plautius breſt nor Scillas eake we ſee Hath broke or camd: whoſe cankred churliſh yre, Shapes bloudy freakes to quench our bodyes fyre. And chiefly when theſe trayterous abſent clounes, Such wondrous fauour fynd in cityes bownes, Which thoſe ſame exiles lingring hope doth feede: Suſpected foes with ſword we wil out weede. And ſo Octauia ſhall that ioly dame, Continue after them their bloudy game. And wend that way her nowne whyte brother went, Such hye miſtruſted thinges muſt needes be bent. Se. It is (O Prince) a worthy famous thing, Amids redoubted Lordes alone to ring: And wyſely worke your countries prayſe to ſaue: And wel your ſelfe to captiue folke behaue: From cruell brutiſh ſlaughter to abſtayne, And voyde of moode to wreake your angry payne: And to the world a quiet calme to geue, That al your age in peace their liues may liue. This is a Princes prayſe without al cryme: This is the path to heauen wherby we clyme. So is Auguſtus prince and father cald Of countrie firſt in ſtarbright throne yſtald. Whom as a God in minſters we adorne, Yet troublous fortune toſſed him beforne, A great while long on lands and ruffling ſeas, Vntil his fathers foes he could appeaſe, And throught wars diuerſe courſe could quel them quite. To you did fortune yeelde her power, and might, And raynes of rule without all bloud, and fight. And to your beck both land, and ſeas hath bent. Grim deadly enuye daunted doth relent. The Senate Lordes gaue place with free conſent: The battaylous route of knights with willing hartes (That ſame decree from ſager ſires departes) Vnto the lay mens choyſe do well agree. Your grace the ſpring of peace they count to bee. And choſen Iudge, and guyde of mortal ſtocke. Your grace, your countreys ſacred ſyre, doth rocke And rule with princely gorgeous tytle bright, The cyrcled world in rundel wyſe ydight. Which mighty mounting name to keepe ſo great, This noble citty Rome doth you entreat: And doth commend vnto your royall grace Her liuely limmes in charge for your liues pace. Ne. The gyft of Gods it is, as we diſcus, That Rome with Senafe ſorte doth honor vs, And that the feare of our diſpleaſure great, From cankred enuyous ſtomackes maketh ſweat Both humble talke and ſupplications meeke. And were not feare all theſe would be to ſeeke. Vnweldy, combrous cityes, members ill, That Prince and countrey both do ſeeke to ſpill, To leaue alyue (which ſwell, and puffed bee, Bycauſe of lynage great. and high degre) What madnes meere is it when as we may, Euen with a word, ſuch freakes diſpatch away Sir Brutus ſterne, his brawnes and armes did dight, His ſoueraygne liege to ſlayne by force and might, That erſt had holpen him, and geuen him health, And had endued him with princely wealth, In brunt of raging warre vndaunted out, That vanquiſht many people ſtrong and ſtoute, Prince Caeſar matcht by great degrees of power To loue, in ſtately chayre of ſtarry bower, By diu'liſh citizens wicked wyle was ſlayne. What ſtore of bloudy ſtiffling ſtreames on molde. Did tatred Rome, of her owne lims, beholde? He by his noble vertues worthy prayſe, Whō peoples, common bruite to heauē doth raiſe. Auguſt among the Gods yſayncted well, How many noble breaſtes did he compel, How many ſpringoldes young, and hoary heads, Each where diſperſt to lig in molded heds? How many men did he bereaue of breath Tofore proſcript that were condemnd to death? When for the grieſly feare of deadly dart From propre home they were conſtraind to part And flye Octauius force, and Lepidus might, And not abyde ſterne Marke Antonius ſight, Which then the ample world at once did guyde, That into kingdomes three they did deuyde, To dumpiſh ſadded ſyres, with heauy cheere, Their childrens grie ly cropped pates appeere, Hong out beforne the Senates iudgement ſeate, For each man to behold in open ſtreate: Ne durſt they once lament their piteaus caſe, Nor inward ſeeme to mourne to Claudius face, The market ſtead with bloud from bodies ſpued, And lothſome mattrie ſtreames, is all imbrued: And quite throughout their faces foule arayed, The piteous gubbes of bloud drop downe vnſtayd. Nor here did this ſame ſlaughterous bloudſhed ſtay. Phillyps Pharſalia gaſtly fieldes each day, The cromming rauening foules, and cruell beaſtes Long fed, with gobbe s bigge of manlye breaſtes, Beſyde all this, the coſt he ſcoured quite Of Sicill ſea and ſhips to ware ydyght With force of armes did win, and hauocke made Of propper ſnbiectes ſlayne with his owne blade. The rundle round of landes with mighty mayne Of noble Chieftaynes ſtroake reboyles agayne. Antonius ouercome in Nauale fight, To Egipt poaſtes in ſhippes preparde to flight: Not looking long to liue nor hoping life. Inceſteous Egipt (through Antonius wyfe) That worthy Romayne princes bloud did ſucke And couerd lye their ghoſtes with durty mucke. Long wicked, waged ciuil warre there ſtayed, In Marcke Antonius graue with him ylayed. Auguſtus at the laſt of conqueſt greate His dulled ſwords that wounded ſoules did beate, In peaceable ſheathes repoſ d hath layd at reſt: And feare doth rule, and guyde his kingdome beſt By ready force of armes at all aſſayes, And Captaynes fayth he ſhieldes him ſelfe alwaies Whō now his ſōnes moſt worthy vertuous praiſe, To heauen a conſecrated God doth rayſe, And cauſeth all, in Churches for to place The ſacred Picture of Prince Claudius grace, And vs the ſtarry raigne of Gods ſhall bide If firſt with dreadful ſword about vs wyde We wype away what ſo our perſon ſtayne: And found our court with worthy ſtem agayne. Se. Your noble ſpouſe, ſprong forth of ſaincted peer Of Claudius ſtocke, the ſtarbright diamond cleere, That Goddeſſe Iuno wiſe her brothers bed Partaking, preſſed downe with buttockes red, Your graces princely court ſhal garniſh gay, With wondrous heauenly fayre deſcended ſtay. Ne. Inceſtuous maryed dames, from ſtocke & ſtem, Detract all hope, that we ſhould haue of them. Nor vs, could ſhe once loue that we could ſee, Nor with our perſon once at all agree Se. In tender budding yeares, when loue ſuppreſt With bluſſhing hydes the flames of burning breaſt, Scant playne appeares the loue they bare indeed. Ne. Thus wee our ſelues with hope in vaine did feede: Although vndoubted ſignes, as bodye wryed, And frowning lookes, which we haue oft eſpyed, Her ſpyteful hating ſtomacke did bewray Which ſhee doth beare, whom duty byndes t'obaye. Which yet at laſt, big, boyling, grieuous payne, With death determind hath t auenge agayne, Wee haue found out, for byrth and beauties grace. A worthy make for ſuch an Empreſſe place: To whom that louely goddeſſe Venus bright, And mighty Ioue his ſpouſe that Iuno hight, and goddeſſe fierce in boyſterous warlike artes, Geues place for bodyes ſeemly portrayd partes. Se. Fayth, meeknes, manners mild, & baſhfull ſhame Of ſpouſe, thoſe ought an huſband to reclayme. The perles of iudging mynd, alone remayne, Not ſubiect once to any rulers raygne. The paſſing pryde of beautyes numming grace Each day appals, and bleamiſheth apace. Ne. What prayſes woman wights haue in them cloſd All thoſe in her alone hath God repo de, And ſuch a peerleſſe peere, the guydes of lyfe, The deſtnies would haue borne to be our wyfe, Se. O noble prince ſuch blynd vnlawful loue, (Do raſhly credite naught) from you remoue. Ne. Whom Ioue can not repell that rules the cloudes, And pearcing raging floods, therein him ſhroudes, And raungeth through the raigne of Plutoes pit, And pulleth downe in welkin hie that ſit The mighty powers of heauen, the God of loue? And can I then his force from me remoue? Se. Swift winged loue, mens fancy fond, in vayne A mercy wanting God to bee, doth fayne: And armes his handes with woundinge weapons keen And bowes with burning brondes, for louers greene: Of Venus to be ſprong they al accorde, and blyndly forgde of thunders limping Lorde. Bland loue the myndes great torment ſore appeares, And buddeth firſt in frolicke youthful yeares. Who while we drinke of Fortunes pleaſaunt cuppe, With layſie pampring ryot, is neſ led vp: Whom if to toſter vp you leaue at length It fleeting, falles away with broken ſtrength. This is in all our life (as I ſuppoſe) The greatteſt cauſe how pleaſure firſt aroſe. Which ſith mankind by broodyng bydeth aye, Through gladſom loue y fierce wild beaſtes doth ſway It neuer can from manly breaſt depart. Ne. This ſelfe ſame God I wiſh withall my hart The wedlocke lightes to beare before our grace, And faſten Poppie ſure in our bed place. Se. The peoples griefe might neuer yeeld to it: Nor ver ue can the ſame at all permit. Ne. Shall I alone to do, forbidden be That euery patch may do? that grieueth mee Se. No tryfling toyes the people lookes to haue Of him, that ought to rule with wiſdome graue. Ne. It pleaſeth vs with daunted power to trye, If peoples raſh conceiued rage will flie. Se. Seeke rather for to pleaſe and calme their moode. Ne. Ill ruled is that raygne where people wood, Their ſubiect Pri ce doth weld, as they thinke good Se. When nought that they require they can obtayne, They iuſtly then agrieued are agayne. Ne. That gentle prayers cannot win with eaſe, By force to wring it out, it doth vs pleaſe. Se. An hard thing tis the people not to haue That of theyr Prince, which they do iuſtly craue. Ne. And horrible 'tis a Prince to be conſtraynd. Se. Let not your ſubiectes then ſo ſore be raynd. Ne. Why then the common brute abroade wil be. How that the people haue ſubdued mee. Se. That no man truſtes that is of credite light. Ne. Be it ſo, yet many it markes with deadly ſpyghte. Se. With countrie peeres to medle it is afrayd, Ne. To quip and frump, 'tis nothing leſſe diſmayd. Se. Your grace may eaſly couch that budding bruite Let Sayncted ſires deſertes with pliant ſute, Your graces mynd remoue: let ſpouſes age, And curteous baſhfull ſhame diſrumpe your rage. Ne. Leaue off (I ſay) that we entend to grutch. For now your talke our pacience moueth much: I pray you let it lawful be to do, That Senec geueth not aduyſe vnto. And we our peoples wiſhes do defer, While Poppie feele in wombling wombe to ſterre, The pledge of faythful loue to me and her. Why do we not appoynt the morrow next, When as our mariage pompe may be context?
THE THIRD ACTE
THE FIRST SCENE. Agrippyna. THrough paunch of riuened earth, from Plutoes raigne With ghoſtly ſteps, I am returnd agayne. In writhled wriſtes, that bloud do moſt deſyre, Forguyding wedlocke vyle with Stygian fire. Let Poppie, which theſe creſſets coupled ſure, Vnto my ſonne be ioynd in mariage pure: Whom mothers griefe, and hand reuenging wrackes, Shal ſend with heaue and hoe to funeral ſtackes I always do remember wel beneath Where piteous, ghoſtly, crauling ſoules do breath, Th'unkindly ſlaughterous deede, which to our ſpright Yet vnreuengd is grieuous and of right: And for the good I did a cruell priſe, That deadly framed ſhip in crafty wyſe: And due reward that he gaue me agayne, For helping him to rule of Empyres raygne: And eake that night, when as I did bewayle, Both loſſe of ſhippe wherin we then did ſayle, And mates vnhappye death, and whyle I thoughte, For this accurſed deede to haue beſought The Gods to trickling teares he gaue ſcant tyme But twice encreaſed hath his deuilliſh cryme. Quite ſlayne with ſword, thruſt through my bodyes boundes And ſilthy layed through goary mattring woundes, Deliuered ſafe from ſeas, deuouring ſup, In antique court my ghoſt I yeelded vp. Nor yet his cancred, and vnſatiate hate. For all this bloud doth Nero once abate. That Tyrant dyre doth rage at mothers name. And ſeeketh wayes my deedes for to defame. Who threating death to them that doe withſtand, My ſhapes he dingeth downe in euery land: My princely tytles large hee ſcrapeth out In euery place, the whole wydeworld aboute, Which my vnlucky parentes loue did geue, To much vnto my paine whyle I did liue, Vnto a boy to guyde, which now I rue. My poyſoned make, my Ghoſt doth oft purſue: And in my face with burning brondes doth flye. He ſtayes a ſpace with earneſt talke hard by, And threatneth ſore, and doth impute his death And tombe he ſhould haue had to mee beneath. And now deſyres to haue ſome factious wight, That dare deſpayle my ſonne of breathing ſpright. Let be you ſhall haue one to worke this cryme, I do require no long delayed tyme. Reuenging ſpright Erin, a death doth coine, Of life, that wicked tyrant to purloyne. Sore ſmarting leaden ſtrypes and ſhameful flight, And pyning panges with thurſt and hunger dight: That Tantalus ſpungelike thurſty mouth befurde, And Siſyphus toyle ſhal paſſe, and Tityus burde, And Ixions paynful wombling wheele aboute, That teareth all his bodyes partes throughout. Although that Tyrant proude and ſcornful wight, His court with marble ſtone do ſtrongly dyght, And princelike garniſh it with gliſtring golde: Though troupes of ſouldiours ſhielded ſure, vpholde Their chieftaynes princely porch: and though yet ſtill The world drawne drye with taſkes euen to his will, Great heapes of riches yeeld themſelues to ſaue, Although his bloudy helpe the Parthians craue, And Kingdomes bring, and goods al that they haue, The tyme and day ſhall come, when as he ſhall Forlorne, and quite vndone, and wanting all. Vnto his curſed deedes his life and more, Vnto his foes his bared throate reſtore. Alas, vnto what ende is all my payne? Or in what caſe do now my vowes remayne? Wherto doth now thy rage and deſtnies ſpyte? Draw thee O Sonne, with brayne benummed quite? That to ſuch monſtruous heapes of ylles thy dame (Whom thou with curſed miſchiefe ouercame) Hir wrath ſhould yeeld? O that ere to the light A ſucking babe I brought thee foorth in ſight, And fedd thee fyne with pappe as princely borne, The fierce, wild, ſauage beaſtes had rent and torne My wombe and bloudy entrails all beforne. Without all cryme, and wanting reaſons pride, Mine own deere dādling child thou ſhouldſt haue dide. And faſtned ſure to me ſhouldſt aye beholde, The quiet place, where Ghoſtly ſoules be rolde: And ſee thy graundſyres great of worthy fame, And ſyre Domitius eake of princely name, Whom now both ſhame and wayling doth abyde, That whyle they dure, from them ſhal neuer ſlyde. For which both thee, O curſed Barne, they may, And mee, that thee haue borne geeue thankes for aye. But why ceaſſe I, with hel to hyde my face, Wyfe, ſtepdame, mother dire, in my life ſpace?
THE SECOND SCENE. Octauia Chorus. DO not, alas, thus ſore lament, But rather yet your mourning ſtay, Sith that the city whole is bent To celebrate this ioyful day: Leaſt your great loue and fauour both, Which I do count to be moſt ſure, The more cauſe Nero me to loth, And eake his bitter wrath procure: And I fal out to be the ground To you of many miſchieues vyle, This ſame is not the firſt deepe wounde, That I haue felt now this good whyle: Farre worſe then this haue I abode: But of theſe troublous cares this day Shall make an end I truſt in God, Although with Death he do me pay, No man to ſee ſhal me conſtrayne His bended browes knit furrowyſe, Nor ſtep within the Chamber ragyne Of mayde dreſt vp in brydall guiſe Auguſtus ſiſter I wil bee, And not his wyfe as wont I was: But onely paynes remoue from mee, And feare of death I wil not paſſe. Yet canſt thou piteous wreth once truſt, Thy cruell huſbandes father law, Or theſe few thinges to haue ſo luſt Whyle miſchieues yet in mynd are rawe? Now long reſerud, vntil this day, And theſe ſame maryage rytes be paſt, Thou ſhalt poore wretch without delay, A bloudy offring dye at laſt. Why thus with teares diſfigured ſore Thy wonted home doſt thou behold? Make haſt to ſhunne this deadly ſhore And leaue this ſtraughtrous Princes fold. Cho. Lo ſee that day ſuſpecttd long And whiſpered Fame in all mens eares, With gliſteryng pompe of brydall throng, To vs pore wretches now appeares. And Claudius broode Octauias grace, From Neroes wedlocke place expelde, Departed is, whoſe ſpouſall ſpace, Hath Poppie conquerour long tyme helde. The whyle, our pyety couched lyes Kept downe with heauy, combrous feare. And ſlow reuenging grief likewyſe: Where doth the peoples power appeare, That brake the force of Princes great, That conquerous city lawes hath framde, That worthy men to honours eat Preferd, that warre and peace proclaymd, That ſauage people ſtraunge did tame That Kinges and Princes caught in fight Shut ſurely vp in priſon frame To keepe them cloſe from all mens ſight Loe, which wee cannot once abyde, To ſee wher Poppies ymage trym, Conioyned vnto Neroes ſyde All gliſtring bright ſhynes very brim. Let force of Armes pul downe that frame And match with grounde that Ladyes face Too likely carued to his name, And ſnatch her downe from beddig place, And let it forthwith flye with brandes With Dartes and Iauelins fiercely flonge, From pythy braunes and ſturdy handes Vnto the princes courtly throng.
THE FOVRTH ACTE.
THE FIRST SCENE. Nutrix. Poppea, FRom out of ſpouſal bower diſmayd with feare, Whither go you? what ſecrets daughter deare Vnknowen, makes you to looke ſo drouſely? Why ſpungelike lokes your face wt tears frō eye That fell? of truth the tyme deſyred long, And wiſhed for by prayers, and vowes among Hath ſhyned bright. Caeſars wedlock are you: Your golden grace, whereof he tooke the view. Him priſoner caught, and did him ſurely bynde, So much the more, how much Senec his mynd Did ſeeke to chaunge, and wild from loue to weeld. And Venus chiefe in loue hath made him yeeld. O in beauty paſſing all, what beds then downe More ſoft, haue borne thy weight when thou with crowne Didſt ſit in middes of court the Senate all. At thy great beauty agaſt, thou didſt appall. Whylſt thou the Goddes with perfume ſendeſt fyne, And ſacred alters drencht with thankful wyne, Thy head attyrd with veyle of yellow hiew By Caeſars ſide thou wentſt as princeſſe new: When he aloft extold aboue the reſt, With hauty courage merily went to feaſt. Like as kyng Peleus went ſometymes to take Queene Tethis, whom ſalt ſeas fome bred, his make. Whoſe bridinge chambers, banquet wiſe ydreſt, The Gods vouchſaft to hallow with their heſt, Both they that rule in ſkyes and eake in Seas. But tel, O Lady, tell, if it you pleaſe, What ſodayne chaūce doth ſhade your beautyes light. What meanes your colour chaūge from red to white? What moues thoſe trickling tears, how ſtandes your plight? Po. With dreames, and grieſly ſightes, this laſt night, Nurſe, My mynd was troubled ſore, but frayd much worſe. For when ſir Phoebe his weary courſe had ryd, Whyle quiet reſtyng night each thing ſhadid, My ſences weary fel in ſlumber deepe, Whyle Nero me within his armes did cleepe. Reſoluing lims, at length gan ſleepe diſcharge, And long I reſt not vnder quiets targe, For loe, I ſaw a route that brought me feare, Come to my chaumber with diſheueled hayre: The Matrons ſage of Latin land did mourne, And ſounded ſhryking ſighes as though forlorne They were, the dolefulſt wightes that liue on ground. And oft among the warlike trumpets ſound, I ſawe my huſbands mother teribly ſtand, With threatning looke berayed with b oud in hand A light fyre brand ſhe bare which oft ſhe ſhooke, And made mee goe with her through feareful loke. When downe we came through op'ned earth ſhee led The way, I after went with bowing hed, And muſing much therat, marke what I ſay, My bed, me thought I ſaw, wherin I laye, When firſt eſpouſde I was to Rufe Chriſpyne And hee me thought, with firſt ſonne of his lyne, With many following them agaynſt me faſt Did come, and me to cleepe did ſwift his haſt, And as he wonted was he ki •• me oft, Then ruſht into my houſe with pace not ſoft Amaſed Nero ſore, in Chryſpines breaſt That hidde his faulchion ene: feare ſhakte of re t From mee: I trembling ſtode with quiuering feare, And breſt diſmayd to ſpeake made me forbeare. Til now (O Nurſe) I met with thee, wh ſe truſt, And fayth into theſe wordes haue made me bruſt. Alas, what threatneth mee eche grieſly ſpright? What meanes of huſbands bloud that doleful ight? Nu. he hidden ſacred vayne that moueth ſwift, Which fantaſie we call by ſecret drift, When we do take our reſt doth ſhew agayne, The thinges both good and bad that broyle in brayne: You maruel that you ſaw your make, and bower, His ghoſtly funerall ſtackes, at that ſame hower Round claſped cloſe in armes of huſband new: Hereto, the beaten breaſtes with handes mou'd you, And maydens hayre, on mariage day diſplayd: Octauias friendes with heauy hartes bewrayed, Amids hir brothers both and fathers hall Their heauy cheere for her vnluckye fall. That dreadful blaſing flame of fyre forborne In Agryppynas hand your grace beforne. Which you did follow ſtreigth declares renowne To you, though enuye ſtryue to keepe it owne: The ſeat you ſaw beneath doth promiſe you Your ſta e to ſtand ful ſure not chaunging new: That Nero prince in Criſpins throat did hyde His ſword, it telles that he in peace ſhall byde, Vnknowen to bloudy ruthful warre for aye. Therfore (Madam) plucke vp your hart I pray: Receiue both mirth and glee caſt feare aſyde, With ioy, and eaſe you may in bowre abide. Pop. To temples hie where mighty Gods do dwell, I wil repayre, and offringes to them fell In humble wyſe their heauy wrath t'ppeaſe, And me of mighty ſight, and dreams to eaſe. My ſecond wiſh ſhal be, that this feare all Vppon my foes as ſodayne chaunce may fall. O Nurſe pray thou for mee ſome vowes do make Toth' Gods, that ghoſtly feare his flight my take.
THE SECOND SCENE. Chorus. IF ſtealth diſcloaſde by blabbing fame, And luſty, pleaſaunt, thankfull loue, Of IOVE be true: who fourme did frame Of ſwan to come from ſkies aboue, And did enioy the ſweete conſent Of Ladye LEDAS loues delight: VVho like a Bull his labour ſpent, Through flowing floods to cary quite, EVROPA ſlylie ſtolne awaye: Hee will no doubt leaue raygne of Skye And POPPIES loue diſguiſd aſſaye If hee her ſoueraygne beauty ſpye. VVhich hee might wel preferre before Fayre LAEDAS ſugred ſweete delight: And DANAE whom hee wonne of yore, Amaſde with golden shoure ſo bright: Let SPARTE now for HELENS ſake Of beauty bragging fame vprayſe: Admit the TROIAN heardman make Of gayned ſpoyle tryumphant prayſe: Fayre HELEN here is ſtayned quight: VVhoſe beauty bredde ſuch boyling yre, That earth was matched euen in ſight VVith TROIAN towres conſumde with fyre. But who is this that runnes with feare oppreſt? Or els what newes bringes he in panting breaſt?
THE THIRD SCENE. Nuntius, Chorus, WHat ſturdy champion ſtoute doth ioy with glee Our chieftaynes royal bower ſafe to ſee, Then to his court I counſel him to wend, Gainſt which the populus rout their force doth bend. The rulers runne amaſde to fetch the gard, And armed troupes of men, theyr towne to ward. Nor woodnes raſhly cought through feare doth ceaſſe, But more and more, their power doth encreaſe. Ch. What ſodain rage doth beat their br •• ling braine? Nun. The gariſons great with fury aſtonde againe, And ſturred vp for Queene Octauias ſake With monſtrous miſchiefe vile, their rage to ſlake, They rumbling ruſh into the Pallace farre. Cho. What dare they do, their counſailers who are? Nun. Aduaunce their Empreſſe old, ſuburt the new: And graunt hir, brothers beds as is hir due. Cho. Which Poppie now, with hole conſent doth hold? Nun. Yea that vnbrideled rage in breſt vprold, Sets them agog, and makes them wondrous wood. What euer ymage grauen in marble ſtood, If Poppies badge it bare, or if in ſight, It tended for to ſhew hir beauty bryght, Though it on heauenly altares braue did ſtand, They break, or pull it down, with ſword or hand. Some parts with ropes ſure tide, they trayle thē forth Which ſpurnd wt durty feete, as though naught worth With ••• thy ſtinking myre, they it all beray. And with their deedes their talke doth iumpe agree, Which mine amaſed minde, thinks true to bee For fierie flames they threat for to prepare, Wherewith to waſte, the princes Pallace faire, Vnleſſe, vnto their furious moode he giue His ſecond wife, and with Octauia liue, But he by me ſhall know in what hard ſtay The City ſtands: the rulers Ile obay. Cho. A lack, what made you cruell warres, in vaine To moue, ſith priſoner loue you can not gaine You can not him ouercome, your fiery flame He recketh not: his ſyre ouercomes the ſame. He darkened hath thoſe thundring thumps that ſhake Heauen, Earth, Hel, ſea, al things y makes to quake. Yea mighty Ioue, in heauen that weares chief crowne His flames from welkin hie hath brought adowne. And you, not victors now, but vanquiſhed, Shall rau ſome pay, the price of hearts bloud red. Loue, pacient can not be, but hote in rage, No eaſie thing it is, his wrath t'aſ wage, Achilles worthy ight, that was ſo ſtout, To twang the Harpe he made in Ladies rout, Prince Agamemnon ſterne that boy benund, And rable rude of Greekes with loue bronds bumd. King Priams raigne he topſie tu uie toſt, Aud goodly Cities great he chiefly loſt. And now my minde ore frighted ſtands agaſt, What Cupides furious force brings vs at laſt.
THE FOVRTH SCEANE. Nero. AH, ah, our captaines ſl e diſpatching coyle, And our long ſuffring y e in ſuch a broyle, That ſtreames of bloud yet do not uē h their rage Which thei againſt our propre perſon wage And that all Rome, with corſes ſtrewd about, Thoſe cruell villaines bloud, doth not ſweat out. But deedes already done, with death to pay. A ſmall thing t'is, a greater ſlaughtrous day The peoples curſed crime, and eke that dame, Whom I did aye ſuſpect, deſerues the ſame. whome, to yelde thoſe peaſaunts would me make: At laſt ſhe ſhall, with life our ſorow ſlake, And with hir bodies bloud ſhall quench our yre. Then, ſhall their houſes fall by force of fyre: What burning both, and buildings fayre decay, What beggerly want, and wayling hunger may Thoſe villaines ſhal be ſure, to haue ech day. Ah, Proue der pricks that vile rebellious race Ne can they once our fauour well embrace, Nor be content, with peace in quiet ſtate, But broyling raumpe about with troubled gate. Hereon with boldneſſe ſtraight, hereon they flie, With harebraind raſhneſſe hedlong by and by. Well, they muſt tamed be with heauy ſtroke, And downe be kept with peiſe of weighty yoke: That they, with like attempt, do not ariſe, Nor once caſt vp their deadly peaſaunts eyes, Againſt our louing ſpouſes golden lookes: Firſt puniſh them ſure, then feare ſhal be their bookes, To teache them, at their Princes beck t'obay But ſee at hand, whom fayth, and vertue rare, Lieuetenant chiefe of camps, appointed thare.
THE FIFTE SCEANE. Praefectus Nero. THe vulgare peoples raſh vnruly rage The ſlaughter of a fewe did ſone aſſwage, Which long wtſtode our valiant force in vain To tel your grace this newes, I come againe Nero. And is this then ynough, doſt thou ſo well O ſouldiour marke what doth thy captaine tell? Haſt thou with held thy hand frou bloudy yre? Is this the due reuenge that we requyre? Prae. The captaine guides of treaſon payd their hyre, By deſperate death of bloudy ſword in fight. The route which ſought with flaming fyre to light, Ner. Our royall Pallace great, who would aſſigne Their Prince what he ſhould doe: and pull in fine Our mate from vs diſſoluing wedlocke bandes: Whoſe hardy ſlaunderous tongs, & wicked handes, Hir princely grace reprochfully withſtandes, From due reuenge, are they diſmiſſed free? Prae. Shall ſubiectes payne, by griefe aſſigned bee? Ner. It ſhall aſſigne which time ſhall neuer weare. Prae. Which neither wrath may end, nor yet your fear Nero. Shee ſhall appeaſe our hie diſpleaſed minde, Who fiyrſt, our wrath deſerued due to finde. Praef. Declare whoſe death your moode doth moſt require Let not my hande be ſtayde from your deſire. Ner. It ſeekes our ſiſters death, and trayterous hed. Prae. Thoſe words through all my luns, hath ſtifneſſeſpred, Oppreſt with grieſty feare. Ner: Vs to obay. Stands thou in doubt: Praef. On fayth why do you lay So great a fault? Ner. Bycauſe thou ſparedſt our foe. Praef. Deſerues a woman to be termed ſo? Nero. If treaſon ſhe begin. Prae. Is any man So ſure, that hit accuſe of creaſon can: Ner. The peoples rage: Praef. Thoſe madde vnweldye wights Who order could? Ne. Who could ſtir vp their ſprits? Prae. No creature as I thincke. Ner. A woman could, In whome a mind Dame nature hath vpfould, To miſchiefe prone: ſhee armed hath hir heart, To hurt by wyles: yet ſtrength ſhee ſet apart, Leaſt ſhee vndaunted force with hir ſhould beare: But now hir ſlender power with doubting feare, Is quickly quaylde, or elſe with puniſhment, Which hir condenmed ſtate to miſchiefe bent To late doth ende: away with graue aduiſe, Vs with entreating ſeeke not to entyſe. Diſpatch that we comm und on ſhipboorde horne, Farre off to ſhore aloofe with daſhing worne, Commaund ſhee be: that tunlike ſwelling breſt At length in ſtorming ſtomack may take reſt.
THE SIXTE SCENE. Chorus. Octauia. ALack the peoples bitter loue, And dyre good will to many one, Which, when they hoyſted ſayles aboue, With pleaſaunt blaſtes it made to grone, And caried them from quiet ſhore, That faynting, leaues them in the deepe, And tumbling, raging waters rore. Cornelia piteous wretch did weepe, And ſore bewayle hir ſonnes eſtate: The peoples loue did vndoe them, And wondrous fauour, bred them hate: Great worthy peeres of noble ſtem: Of high renowne for vertues prayſe: In fayth and eloquence did pas Their ſtomacks ſtout their fame did rayſe: Ith lawes eche one moſt excellent was. And Scipio, thee did Fortune yeelde Vnto lyke death, and curſſed wracke, Whom neyther honours pompe coulde ſheelde, Nor fenced houſe thy foes keepe backe. Moe to repeate, although I coulde, Pure preſent griefe forbiddeth ſore: Ere whyle to whom the people woulde, Her Fathers antique Courte reſtore, And Brothers wedlocke once againe, Now weeping, wringing hands poore wretch, Vnto hir cruell, deadly payne, The armed ſouldiours doe hir fetch. How ſafe doth pouerty lye content, In thetched houſe ſafe ſhrouded there? High rayſed towers with blaſts are bent, Which often tymes them ouer beare. Oct. Where pull you mee poore wretch? alas, Into what baniſht exiles place, Woulde Nero haue mee for to paſſe, Or Fortune bids, with frowning face? If now with faynting ſtrength quite coolde, And with my broyles all wearied ceaſſe, And longer lyfe ſhee graunt mee woolde, If that ſhee worke for to increaſe, My ſorrowes great with deadly dart, Why is ſhe then ſo much my foe, In country that I may not part, And leaue my life before I goe? But now no helpe of health I feele, Alas I ſee my Brothers boate: This is the ſame, whoſe vaulted keele, His Mother once did ſet a clote. And now his piteous Siſter I, Excluded cleane from ſpouſall place, Shall be ſo caried by and by: No force hath vertue in this caſe. No Gods there be my woes to wrecke. The griefly, dreadfull drab Eryn, Doth weld the worlde at nod and becke, Who can lament my ſtate, wherein I am, alas, ſufficientlie? How can Aedon duely playne, My ſmarting ſtreames at beares that I Do ſhedde? whoſe wings I would be fame, If deſtnies would them graunt, to weare. Then would I leaue my mourning mates, As ſwiftly fled, as wings could beare, Aud ſo auoyde theſe bloudy pates. Then ſitting ſole in ſhirwood ſhirle, And hanging ſure, by dandling twigge VVith plaintiue pipe I might out twarle My heauy tuned note ſo bigge. Chor. The mortalt broode the deſtnies guide: Themſelues they nothing can aſſure, That certainly doth ſtedfaſt bide: VVhich our laſt day of life, procure, (VVhere of we alwayes ſhould beware,) Much daungerous chaunces for to try: Vnto your troubled minde with care, Now many ſaumples do applys, Which your accurſed court hath brought, To holden you in all your broyle: For what hath more your troubles wrought, What doth againſt you ſorer toyle, Than fortune doth? the firſt of all, Agrippas childe brought forth to life, Whome we Tyberius daughter call, By lawe, and eke Prince Caeſars wife, Of many ſonnes a carefull dame, I cannot choſe but now recount, Whoſe worthy, glorious ample name, Throughout the world doth much ſurmount. So oft with belly bolne that bare Deſyred fruicts, and peaces pledge, Ere long thou ſufferedſt exiles care, Strypes, chaines, and boltes of yron wedge, And mourning much, which ſo did frame, That death they cauſde thee to abyde. So Liuia, Druſus lucky name In male kinde babes, did hedling ſlyde, Into a cruell monſtrous deede, And death ſore pearcing deadly dart. Hir mothers fates doth Iulia ſpeede, To folow ſtreight with all hir heart, Who after longer waſted time With bloudy fauchion kene, was ſlaine, Although for no iuſt cauſe or crime. Your mother eke that once did raigne, Who then eſteemd of Claudius well, Did wiſely weld his court at will, And fruitfull was, as you can tell, What could not her deſire fulfill: Shee ſometime ſubiect to hir ſlaue, To death was put with ſouldiours blade. VVhat ſhee, that eaſly hope might haue, Toth ſkies, hir raigne to riſe haue made, Prynce Neroes luſty Parent great? Firſt toſt with ſhipmans boyſterous force, Then torne with ſword in Prynces heat, Did ſhee not lye a ſenceles corſe, Oct. Loe mee the tyrant ſtern will ſend To yrckſome ſhades and helliſh ſprits. Why wretch doe I the tyiue thus ſpend? Draw mee to death you to whoſe myghts, Falſe Fortune hath bequeathed mee. I witneſſe now the heauenly powre. What doſt thou bedlame? leaue to flee, With prayer to Gods, who on thee lowre. I call to witneſſe Tartar deepe, And ſprytes of Hell reuenging freakes Of haynous facts, in D •• geon ſteepe, And Syre whom death deſerued wreakes. I doe not now repyne to dye, Deck vp your Ship, and hoyſe your Sayle, On frothing ſeas to windes on hye: Let him that guides the Helm not fayle, To ſeeke the ſhore of Pharian Land. Cho. O pippling puffe of weſtern wynde, Which ſacrifice didſt once with ſtand, Of Iphigen to death aſfignde And cloſe in Cloude congealed clad, Did cary hir from ſmòking aa es, Which angry, cruell Virgin had: This Prynce alſo oppreſt, with cares, Saue from this paynefull puniſhment, To Dians temple ſafely horne: The harbarous Moores toru eneſſe bent, Then Prynces Courtes in Rome forlorne, Haue farre more Cyuile curt ſie: For there doth ſtraungers death appeaſe The angry Gods in heauens on hie, But Romayne bloude, our Rome muſt pleaſe.
FINIS.
THE TENTH TRAGEDY OF L. ANNAE SENECA, Entituled HERCVLES OETAEVS: Tranſlated out of Latin into Engliſhe by I. S. *⁎* The Argument.

HERCVLES hauinge ſubdued the Sonnes of EVRITVS Kynge of OEchalia, (who contrary to theyr promiſe, denied to geue their Siſter IOLE vnto him) & hauing made conqueſt of the City and countrey thereabout, meant to ſacryfice vnto the Gods for his victory in that behalfe, and ſucceſſe in briging away, perforce, his beeloued IOLE. For the ſolemne celebration whereof, he ſent LYCAS his ſeruaunt, vnto DEIANEIRA his Wyfe, to fetche his Robe, which hee alwayes vſed when hee ſacrifized. DEIANEIRA dippinge and beſprinckling the ſame Robe in the bloude of NESSVS the Centaure, becauſe ſhe feared leaſt her huſband loued IOLE better then he did her, (for NESSVS being ſhot through, and ſlayne by HERCVLES, had perſwaded & aduiſed her that ſhee ſhoulde ſo doe, whenſoeuer ſhee doubted that her huſbands loue were alienated from her to any other,) ſent it vnto him. Which Garment when HERCVLES had put on, the poyſon wherein it was dipped, and waſhed, enuenomed all his Vitall partes, and droue him into moſt intollerable tormentes. For remedy vvhereof hee ſent to APOLLO his Oracle at Delphos: from vvhence hee receiued aunſwere, that hee ſhould bee caryed vnto Mounte OEtus, and there, that a greate fier ſhoulde bee made: and as for all other things, they ſhould bee referred to the pleaſure and direction of IVPITER. The fier being there made and kindled by PHILOCTETES, (vnto vvhom HERCVLES bequeathed his Arrowes,) HERCVLES vvent vp into it, & was there burned. Whoſe boanes being afterward ſought for and not founde, the ſtanders by vvere fully perſwaded that he vvas deified, & taken vp into Heauen. When knowledge thereof vvas broughte vnto DEIANIRA, ſhee thinking herſelfe to bee the cauſe of her huſbandes tormenting death, ſtrangled her ſelfe.

FINIS.

The Speakers names. HERCVLES. ALCMENA, HYLLVS. NVTRIX. IOLE. CHORVS. PHILOCTETES. DEIANIRA.
THE FIRST ACTE. HERCVLES alone. O Lorde of Ghoſtes whoſe fyrye flaſhe (that forth thy hand doth ſhake) Doth cauſe the trembling Lodges twayne of Phoebus Carre to quake, Raygne reachleſſe nowe: in euery place thy peace procurde I haue Aloofe where Nereus lockes vp lande Empalde in winding Waue. Thwack not about with thunder thumpes, the rebell kinges bee downe, The rauening tyrauntes Scepterleſſe, are pulled from their crowne: By mee all daunted is whereon, thy boults thou ſhouldſt beſtowe. And yet O Father, yet the Heauens are ſtill withhelde mee froe, At all aſſayes I ſerue, as might an Impe of Ioue behoue, And that thou ought to Father mee, my ſtepdame well doth proue. Why doſt thou linger in delay, is Heauen of vs afraide? Seeme wee ſo awfull, fell, and fierce? and wherefore are wee ſtaide? And cannot Atlas boyſteous backe on ſtouping ſhoulder tough, Vpholde the payſe of Hercules, and heauen well inough? What is it ſier? what is it Ioue that thee ſo much detarres? What may thee force keepe backe thy ſonne from ſcaling of the Starres For death hath let me paſſe againe from dungeon darke to thee. When miſchiefes fell and monſters all deſtroyde and ſpoyled bee That eyther Lande, or Seas, or Ayre. Or hell engender coulde Arcadian Lion none to raunge in ſaluage Nemea wolte. The Stymphall Foule hath chaſed bin with Bowe, and Bruſell boulte. No nimble heart of Menalus doth lye in hill nor houlte The Dragon daunting with his bloud hath goarde the goulden groue. And Hydra hath his courage coolde, and Diomedes droue Whoſe puffed paunches pampred were with ſtoare of ſtraungers bloud That ſcoarde the Coaſte and barren bankes of cruell Heber floud I ſlaughterd them, and that the force of foe might well bee ſeene. I prowlde away the boottes of the prowde Amazon Queene, Of ſilent ſhades in glummy Goulphes the dreadfull doomes I ſaw. On Cerber black the Tartar Tike the ſonne did ſhine with awe, And he with ſteaming Goggle eyes hath glyed vpon the ſoone: Anteus yawnes, and gapes no more whoſe gaſping breath to doone. A front his alters Buſir fell was knockt vnto the grounde, By him whoſe hande gaue Gerion his deepe and deadly wounde And ſlew the mighty Bull that was to hundred heartes a dreade, All noyous plagues I ſpoyled haue that euer Tellus bread, And daunted by my hand they lye: the Gods now neede not free: The worlde to aunſwere Iunoes yre, no monſters now can get. Now ſhew thy valiaunt ſonne his ſire, or ſet him in the clowdes, Thou ſhalt not neede to bee my guide, my ſelfe will climbe the ſhrowdes. Doe thou my paſſage but allow, and I ſhall finde away, But if thou dreade, that monſters more the earth engender may, Haſt on eache monſter hideous, to ſhew it ſelfe in time, Whyle Hercules hath his aboade beueath the heauenly Clyme. For who encounter ſhall the fiendes? who iſt that Grecia hath, That may be meete, to bide the brunt of mighty Iunoes wrath? My prayſe burtes not my health: my fame doth fly, from land to land: The yſy poale doth know mee, where the northerne beare doth ſtand: The eaſterlings encombred with the gleede of ſcorching ſunne. The ſouth, where Phoebe by crooked cleare of Tropick Crab doth rūne: In euery coaſt O Titan where thou doſt thy ſelfe reueale. How I haue met thee face to face, to thee I doe appeale. Aloofe beyonde the compaſſe of thy light I ſet my foote, And neuer coulde thy blaze ſo farre his glymſinge glory ſhoote. As I haue forſt the honour of my triumphes for to ſtreatch, The day it ſelfe hath had his ſtint, within my trauells reatch Dame Nature faylde, the worlde was ſhogd beſide his center dew, And ougſome night in ſhimmering ſhade, from dungeon darck I drew. And cankred Chaos lodged aloafe encountred mee awayne: Yet from the deepe I gat to ground, whence none returnes agayne. Wee ſtraue againſt the Ocean ſtormes, I balaſen the keele Fraught with my waight, that wreſtling waues could not cōpell it reele. What heapes of hazardes tempted I through all the open ayre, To qualify thy wedlocks wrath can miſchiefe none repayre The earth would loath ſuch baggage bred as I would match by might, Yea monſters none are to be founde, the fiendes doe ſhun my ſight. And Hecules for want of fiendes agaynſt him ſelfe did rage What eluiſhe creatures curſt did I with naked arme aſſwage. Was euer any peuiſh thing ſo big vpon the ground That coapt with mee, but that my hand alone did it confound. Not hether to from vermin vyle through faynting feare I leapt In babiſh yeares, not when to me in Cradell layde they leapt: Eache thing that was commaunded me, at eaſe I did obay: Thus free from paynefull toyle to me there neuer paſt a day. What vermin haue I vanquiſhed, no king commaunding it? My courage cloyes me more then all the wyles of Iunoes wit. But what auayleth me to rid mankinde of fickle feare? The Gods yet cannot raygne in reſt: while vp the world doth peare, New rid of furious fiendes, it ſees a loft in ſtarry ſkies The cruell creatures all, that earſt on earth did fore aggriſe. Dame Iuno hath tranſport the elues The ſcorching Crab doth creepe Abouth the burning zone, and loofe at Affrica doth keepe The Tropick line: and Harueſt fat he feedes with parching heate: To Virgo, Leo turnes the time, and in a reaking ſweate. He buſkling vp his burning Mane, doth dry the dropping ſouth. And ſwallowes vp the ſlabby cloudes in fyry foming mouth. The Vrchins all are creapt to ſkies, and haue preuented mee: I Conqueror from Earth to Heauen, my trauells all may ſee: Theſe gargle Faces grim on heauen, Dawe Iuno firſt did ſet: As though thereof the terrour might to ſkies my paſſage let: Although ſhe ſcatter them in Skyes, or make the Heauens forlorne More then y Earth, or hellike Goulphes, (wherby y Gods are ſworne) Yet roome for Hercles ſhalbe made, if after monſters quelde, Or battells fought, or hellike hound in Chaynes as captiue helde, If all exploytes cannot preuayle, in ſkies a place to gayne, Then ſoukt vp bee the midland Sea twixt Barbarie, and Spayne, That eyther ſhore may ioyne in one, with channell none betweene There will I dam the running ſtreame, that Sea ſhall none be ſeene Or as for Corinth out ſhot land that tweene two ſeas doth lye, It ſhall giue way to yther ſtreame, that through the ſame ſhall fly. And when the ſeas on paſſage haue, the Fleete of Athens towne May floate in Channell new: thus ſhall the world turne topſ downe: Let Iſter turne his ſtreame, and Tanaus ſlow another way: Graunt Ioue a placket, graunt, whereby the Gods vpholde I may. Diſcharge thy thunder dint. where I ſhall keepe due watch, & warde, If eyther to the yſy poale thou bid mee haue regarde, Or burning zone, heere let the Gods full ſafe all force defy: Prynce Paean purchaſt hath an houſe amid the criſtall ſky, And well deſerued he the temples of Pernaſſus hill, For ſlaughter of a Dragon made? how oft recouering ſtill In Hydra poyſon Python lay? with Bacchus Perſeus ſtrong By leſſe deſert then Hercules, haue crept the Gods among. But all the Eaſt (a mighty coaſt) to bond is brought, by him. Whom Iuno ſpightes, how ſtearne a bug was ſnaky Gorgon grim? What Impe is he, begot betweene my ſtepdame dyre and thee, Whoſe prayſed paynes haue purchaſte him a place in heauen to be? The heauen that on my ſhoulders I haue hoiſterd vp I craue: But Lycas, (partner of my paynes) diſpatch our triumph braue. Diſplay in pomp the ruin of Euritus houſe, and Crowne: And for the ſacrifice with ſpeede ſtrike yet the Bullocks downe, Where as the Aare (that doth adnaunce the Church of Cenei Ioue.) Lyes open to Euboca ſea: that wrackfull waue doth moue. Chorus. THe Gods in bliſſe that man doth coūteruaile, That can at once both Graue, & glory gayne, Death vpon death the whilſt doth him aſſaile Whoſe wretched life is lingred on in payne, With frowning fate in ſpurning ſpighte who ſhiues, And ſets the Keele of gaping goulphe at nought, Will not ſubmit his captiue handes to giues, As diſhe of diſhonour in triumph to bee brought: Like carefull caytife hee ſhall neuer droupe, Whelmed in ſtorming thoughts of ſower annoy Whoſe ſtomacke ſcornes, for dawnting death to ſtoupe, Though ſeas amid the deepe in hoyſted hoy Driue him aloofe, when as a ſouthern gale Beates Boreas back, or eaſtern puffe agayne Recoiles the weſtern winde, and ſeemes to hale From deepeſt ſandes the ſurges torne in twayne. Tht broken planckes to catche hee ſcrambles not Of wracked barke, as one that hopes to haue Amid the Channell deepe a landing plot, When diſmall death appeares in euery waue Hee cannot ſuffer ſhipwracke all alone: With pined karrayne coarſe, and ſtreames of teares, And with our countrey duſt our heades vpon, Powldring our lockes, wee languiſhe out our yeares. Neyther flaſhing flame, nor thumping thunder cracke Will once dawnt vs: O death thou doſt purſew, Where fortune fawnes: but where ſhee worketh wracke, Thou ſhunneſt thoſe, that woulde thee not eſchew, Wee ſtand not in our razed countrey wall, Whoſe ground ſhall now bee ouergrowne (alas) With bramble, and bryer, and down the temples fall: While mucky ſheepecotes are planted in their place. And now the froſtifaced Greeke (alas) This way, this way, with all his droue of Neate By ſo much of AEchalia muſt paſſe, As heapt on aſhes gloweth ſtill with heate. The Teſſayle ſheepherd ſitting by the way On iarringe Pype ſhall play his countrey ryme, Singing wyth ſighes alacke, and weladay, Thus to bewayle the ſorrowes of our time. Ere tyme ſhall roll the race of many a yeare, It will be aſkt, where earſt the towne did ſtand? O well was I, when as I liued a leare, Not in the barren balkes of fallow land, Nor in Theſſalia on the foodeleſſe cliues, But now among rough Trachin craggy Rocks, And ougly ſhrubs neceſſity mee driues, Whoſe flaming toppes detarres the feeding Oxe. And in the way leſſe woods vntrode before All comfortleſſe, afright and in a maze Needes muſt I trot alone, that would abhorre The ſaluage beaſtes, that on the mountaynes graze But better lot (if any Dames may haue) They ouer Inach wambling ſtreame ſhall row, Or ſhrowd in Dirce Walles, where Iſmen waue With feeble force of ſhallow fourde doth flow. The hawty Hercles mother heere was wed, What Scythian crag, what ſtones engendred him? What Rocky mountayne Rhodope thee bred, Of Tyrant, Titans race a cu ſed lim? Stipe Athos hill, the brutiſh Caſpia land. With teate vnkinde fed thee twixt rocke & ſtoane: Falſe is the tale, wherewith thou bearſt in hande, Two nights for thee thy Mother deare did groane. While lingring ſtarres long lodged in purple ſky: The ſhepherd ſtarre his courſe did enterchaunge With the loade ſtarre, and vp the Moone doth ſty, That couched Phoebe durſt not the Welkin raunge, No Launce can pearce his monſters ruggy ſkin, The blunted Iron tryed it with thumping thwack, And Steele is not ſo tough: on naked ſkin A ſwerd was braſt, and ſtones rebounded back. The force of fate he vtterly defies, And toughly timberd as he is of lim Hee doth contriue, how quarrells may ariſe, That death might proue his febled force in him The quaries coulde not enter to his fleſh, Nor yet the bowe with Scythian ſteule drawn deepe, No nor the glaues, vvith vvhich Sarmacians freſh, Hot ſkirmiſhes in th'yſy Clyme doe keepe. No nor the Parthian better Archer farre, Then Creete, who parcht with Phaētons ſoultring flame, Vnder the Equinoctiall rayſeth werre, Gaynſt th' eaſterling diſcomfetinge the ſame. Hee with his body did batter downe the wall, Of Oechalie: nothing may him withſtande: By valiaunt proweſſe hee hath conquerd all: Tis woon before, that hee doth take in hande: The howgy Briar that fifty paunches had, The hawty Giges with hundred armes likewiſe, That clamb vp Thaſſayle hills as Gyant mad, When rebells rage woulde take from loue the ſkyes, Such ſteaming Eyes, ſuch gaſtly viſage foule, Such Gargle face, ſuch countnaunce glaring grim, Wherewith ſtearne Hercles glowningly doth ſcowle, Thoſe Gyaunts had reſembling playnely him. Thus greateſt bliſſe is prone to greateſt bale There wants no woe whoſe cup wee haue not taſte Wee wretched women haue with countnaunce pale. IOLE. BVt carefull caytiffe I doe not bewayle forlorne The ſweeping flames, nor Idolles, wyth their taitred Temples torne: Nor that the Fathers burne together with theyr Sonnes, That Gods, & men, that tombes & Church, at once to ruin runnes. Vpon the common care wec doe not powre our playnt, For Fortune wills vs turne our teares with other woes attaynt: And thus my frowning face allotteth vnto mee Another kinde of wretchednes, that muſt lamented bee: What ſhall I firſt beweepe? Or chiefly what complayne? And to bewayle them all at once, woulde mitigate my payne. Alas that but on breaſt Dame Nature did mee frame, That blowes agreeing to my griefe might bounce vpon the ſame. With weeping Sipill rocke, br •• ſe yee my balefull breaſt, Or on Eridanus ſilent ſhore in ſorrowes let wee reſt, Where as the mourning troupe of Nymphes doe hale theyr heares. To wayle the death of Phaïron, with ſhowres of dropping teares. Or els in Sicill rocke cauſe mee encoucht to dwell, Where Scilla Hag with howling noyſe, and barking big doth yell. Or elſe in Lynnets ſhape let me tell on my tale, And weepe with Adon in the woods, or turnde to Nightingale As Lady Philomele, recordes with weeping lay In ſhade of hawly Iſmar hill vpon a tender ſpray, With ſoking ſighes her griefe, O Gods: and mee addight In ſhape, that may be ſuetable vnſo my playntiffe plight. And of my piteous moane let craggy Trachin ſounde, Sith Myrra ſawe the teares where in Dame Venus eyes were drownde, That ſhee for Adopis with ſmoky ſighes did ſhed, And Halcion might wayle at will her louing Ceyx dead: The Lady Tastalis get life to weepe alone, And Philomele did chaunge her ſhape, and earnefully did moue Her tender Itis death: (alas) why are not yet With flickering Fethers fit for wynges, my naked armes beſet? O happy ſhall I bee, and happily bee bleaſt, When in the woods as in an houſe I make my ſhrowding neaſt, And ſitting like a birde vpon my countrey grounde In dolefull harmony ſhall tune the cares, that me confounde. That thus the people fond may talke how they haue ſeene In piteous likeneſſe of a Byrde, the Daughter of a Queene. I carefull caytiffe, I, behelde my Fathers fate, When in the Courte a deadly club did Pale him on the pate, And ſprawling on the floore with braynes paſht out hee laye, Alas if fates would let thy Coarſe beſhrynde in pit of Claye, What flowing teares (O Syer) would I on thee beſtowe? And coulde I brooke it Toxeus, to ſee thy death with woe? That wert vnwand in yeares, and take in pits vnpayſde, Vpon whoſe naked Cheekes the pregu •• 〈◊〉 hayres had rayſor. Why ſhould I parents deare your fates with teares deteſt, Whom death with hand ind fferent hath taken hence to reſt: My Fortune ſeekes my teares, due is myne owne diſtreſſe, Now as a captiue muſt I dawnce attendaunce more and leſſe, Vpon my Ladyes rock: and twyſt her threde yſpoon, Woe worth my beauty, for the which in dread of death I run. And for thy ſake alone my ſtock hath loſt his lyfe, Whyle that my ſyer Denyeth me to Hercles as his wyfe And did for feare refuſe his ſtepfather to bee, But to our Laydes balefull bower as Captiues hence goe wee:
THE SECONDE ACTE. Nutrix. Deianira. WHat furious fits of ramping rage doth boyle in Womens brayne, When in one roofe both wedded wyfe and Harlor doe remayne? Both Scylla, and Charibdis gulfe no daunger like it haue, That raging roll on Sicill ſhore by heapes the wraſtling waue. Ne ſaluage beaſte ſo bad there is, that betters not the ſame. For bruite no ſooner blew abroade the captiue Harlots name, And that the beauty of Iolas countnaunce ſhyned brym, As doth the day, when marble ſkies, no filthy fog doth dim: Or like the glimſe of twinckling ſtarre, that in the welkin bright Diſplayes abroade his ſhooting beames amid the froſty mght: But Deianira Hercles Wyfe all bedlem like doth ſtande, And ſcowleth as the Tiger wilde which couched on the ſande In ſhade of rocke doth ſhrowde his whelpes, and buſkells vp in heſſe, Eſpying him that of his younge both come to make the waſte: Or like as Menas ouercharg with Bacchus licour ſixeete With Iuy bunche on thurled Darte from place to place doth fleete: Shee makes a pawſe, in doubt where to ſhee might derect her pace, Then frantickly as on beſtraught, ſhee 〈◊〉 from place to place In Hercles douſe. thus was ſhee rayt in rage of flaming yre, The houſe to narrow was, to coole the deſpret dames deſire. Shee runneth in, ſhee rots about, ſhee makes a ſoddayne ſtay. The mallady in frowning face it ſelfe doth playne diſplay. No galling griefe remaynes at heart. The teares guſh from her Eyes, Nor in on kinde of temper ſtill in frenly ſits ſhee fryes: Her glowning lookes with fury fell doe chaunge her former hew, Now glaring ſtande her ſteaming Eyes, and paleneſſe doth enſew The ruddy colour in her Cheekes: the anguiſh of her heart Driues out her dolors deepe, to ſhew them ſelues in euery part: Shee languiſheth, ſhee moanes for helpe, ſhee wayles her froward fate, And all the houſe an Echo makes reſounding her eſtate. Loe headlong to and froe ſhee hies, and running ſtill about Goes mumbling, and the ſecrets of her minde ſhee mutters out: Oh Iuno Spouſe to Ioue, what part of heauen ſoeuer thou keepe, Rayſe vp ſome ſaluage beaſt, agaynſt lewde Hercules to creepe, That I ſhall thinke ſufficient: If any combrous ſnake With breeding hee doe craule, more big in alt the ſlimy lake, That may not take a foyle: or if that ought doe yet remayne, So ougſome, griſely, curſt, and grim, ſo fraught with filthy bayne, That hee may loathe to looke thereon, that may his ſight appaule. Vndoe their Dennes, from hydeous hoales procure ſuch vermin craule. Or if that flendes can none befounde, then couture thou my ghoſt To what thou tſt: this ſoule of myne can welt abyde the moſt: Some vucouth ſhape, ſome gaſtly face, ſuch one beſtow on mee, Whereby the horrour of my pangues may counteruayled bee. My boyling breaſt cannot conceaue the vengeaunce, I woulde trye: Why ſercheſt thou the corners farre, of landes aloofe that lye? And turnſt y world thus vpſide downe? why ſeekſt thou harme of hell? To traunce him, furious fl irndes enough within this breaſt doe dwell: Make me thyne inſtrument of hate: his ſtepdame I will bee, And thou mayeſt worke the ouerthrow of Hercules by mee: Appoynct my hand to any thing. Why doſt thou make delay? Vſe thou my frenſy, as the meanes to compaſſe his decay. The miſchiefe ſhall be brought to paſſe, what euer thou wilt craue: Why ſtande yee muſing ſtill thereon? contriued all I haue: Thou mayſt forbeare thy mallice now: thy rancour ſhall ſuffice, To bryng this wretche vnto his ende, my ſelfe can well deuiſe. Nv. My Foſter gyile, of rauing mynde, theſe dreary playnts aſſwage, Forbeare this heate, and brydell yet the rigour of thy rage: Behaue thy ſelfe for ſuch an one, as men may worthy iudge The noble Spouſe of Hercules. DEI. Shall Iole (ſlauiſh drudge) Bring baſterd brethren to my Babes? of her that is a ſlaue Shall Iupiter the God of heauen forſooth a daughter haue? The flaſhing flames, and fighting floodes ſhall toyne togeather firſt. The northern beare to Marble ſeas ſhall ſtoupe to quench his thyrſt. Yea vengeounce, vengeance, will I haue, though on thy back thou wyeld The boyſteous heauens, and all the worlde doe peace vnto thee yelde: There is a thing ſhall ſtinge thee worſe then Hydra hiſſing Snake, The corſey curſt of angry Wyfe. Doth any firy Flake Vpthrowne from Etnas boyling Foarge, ſo ſowſe the beaten ſkyes? More then all things that thou haſt daunt, my ghoſt ſhall thee aggryſe. Shall thou prefer a ſeruill Trull before thy wedded Wyfe? For feare of many monſters more I tendred ſtill thy lyfe, And now for to encreaſe my care. I ſee no monſters lurke, And now ſteps in an hateful whoore, (which more my minde doth vrke) To cumber vs, as ill as fiendes. O Father thou of might, The ſhielde of Gods: and Titan thou, that bearſt the Lamp of lyght, I onely vnto Hercules a loyall wyfe abod, And to an Harlots vſe are turnde my prayers made to God: The fruite of my felticity a Strumpet doth obtayne, And for an Harlots loue yee Gods haue harde my prayers vayne: Is Hercules returnde for her? O griefe not yet content. Deuiſe ſome tearing torments, ſeeke ſome pangues, and puniſhment. Let Iuno learne of mee, what force a womans fury hath. Shee knowes not how in deepe deſpight, to vſe her harming wrath. For mee you did theſe batrtayles wage: for my ſake Acheloe Did let his ſtreaming bloud amid his wamblinge waues to floe. When ſnarling Adders ſhape hee tooke, and to the boyſteous Bull Hee gieuing vp his ſloughy ſhape did bende his mallice full. And thus thou foylde a thouſand foes by conqueſt of this one: Yet preſently thou plunged art, and that by mee alone: A pryſoner now muſt be prefer de before thy loyall wyfe. Ile none of that: but euen the day that firſt begins the ſtrife, And to our wedlock brings the breach, ſhalbe thy diſmall day, And knap in twayne the fatall twiſt where on thy lyfe doth ſtay: What meaneth this? my mynde relents. My mallice breakes his rage: O wretched griefe why doſt thou faynte? thy ſpight wilt thou aſſwage? With fealty of a faythfull Wyfe doſt thou thy conſcience charge? Why lets thou not my boyling yre for to encreaſe at large? Why doſt thou ſlake thy frying fits? this mallady ſtill ſuruiue. Euen now I able was with him for maiſterſhip to ſtriue. In deede I haue not craued ayde: yet Stepdame Iuno will, To weilde my handes to worke his wracke, bee heere aſſiſtant ſtill: NV. What treachery entendeſt thou mad bedlem to commit? Thy huſbād wilt thou murder wreatch? whoſe flickering fame doth flit: From eaſt to weſt: whoſe bryght renowne the earth coulde not contayne But rayſde aloft, from marble Skies it doth rebounde agayne: The mother Earth ſhall ryfe in armes for to reuenge his graue. His former Stepſiers ſtocke heereby the ouerthrow ſhall haue: And all Aetolia royall bloud will feele an vtterfall: In quarrell of thy Hercules the worlde conſpier ſhall. Then ſilly wight how many plagues ſhalt thou alone abyde? But bee't that from the face of man thou myght thy body hyde. Yet Ioue the lightning leames of heauen doth holde in armed hand, Beholde the flying fyry flakes in ranckes all ready ſtand: And threatning thunders thumping thicke doe bounce out all the day. Deathes dungeon (that thou doſt defy) full duely ſcaare thee may. For there his Vncle vmpyre ſits: Myche where thou mayſt vnſpyde. And euery where thou ſhalt perceaue the Gods to him 〈◊〉 . DE. I graunt it deſpert deede, whereto diſpayre now doth me driue. NV. Die ſure thou ſhall. DE. And die I will, (as preſently I liue) The loyall ſpouſe of Hercules. And ere this night doe paſſe, Day ſhall not ſee that Deianire a liuing Wydow was. Nor of my ſpouſall hed an whoore ſhall get the intereſt. The dawning day ſhall ſooner make the morning peere in Weſt, Vnto the eaſtwarde Indians the yſy poale ſhall melt, And freezing Scithian firſt ſhall fry with flames that hee hath felt Of Phoebus feruent wheele: ere mee Theſſalia Trulls ſhall ſee Diuorſt: my brydall blaſe ſhall with my bloud iquenched bee: And eyther let him murdred bee, or take away my Lyfe. So ſoothly let him count among the foyled flendes his Wyfe. Among Alcides labours let mee reckned bee as on. His loue in heart I holde, vntill the vtter gaſpe bee gon. Thus vndiuorſt (not vureuengde) I will to Hercles tombe. It Iole be with chylde by him, ile teare it from her wombe, And rent it with theſe pawes of myne. Yea in the wedding place, I flying at her fearce will ſet my tallantes in her face: Let him not ſpare in raumping rage a ſacrifyce to make Of me vppon his wedding day, when he his Trull doth take, So that I fallyng downe may light on Iones ſenceles coarſe He dyes a happy man, that firſt hath quelde his foes by force. Nu. O wretched might why doſt thou thus increaſe thy fuming heate: And feede thy fury wittingly leaſt hap ſhould thee defeate. He loued Lady Iole, but whyle her fathers crowne Stoode floriſhyng in royall ſtate and were not bartred downe, And as vnto the daughter of a King bee ſuter was, But when from type of hawty pompe ſhe did to thraldome paſſe He ſhooke her of hot loue was coold, and now her bitter bale Would not allow the wrack •• kele to beare to hie a ſale: Vnleeful thinges that ſhould be ſhund we gredely deſyre. But matters meeter for our ſtate we ſeldome do require. The pytying of aduerſity doth oft enkindle more The feruent fittes of loue, and this perhappe doth vrge him ſore, To ſee her reaft of natyue ſoyle, it may his fancy touch, Her hayre not tuct with treſſes trimme, nor dect with golden ouche Perhap the man with pitty prickt doth loue her for her carc. Vnto his noble hart to pitty priſoners tis not rare. The ſiſter deare of Priamus (fayre Lady Heſyon) he Did cauſe to Thelamon the Greeke in wedlocke knit to bee: Account how many wyues before, and maydens did he loue, And raung'd abroade to coole the rage that Venus brand did moue. Fayre Auge mayde of Arcadye ententiue ſet to leade Dianas drunce, by force of him did leeſe her mayden hed. And yet no token could ſhe ſhew nor pledge of any ioue, What ſhall I ſpeake of any more, or doth it mee behoue, To pra e what prankes he playd with fifty daughters in one night. And yet how ſoone of ſuch a pange he ouer came the might, He ſet much ſtore by Omphale of Lidia land the Queene, When like a gueſt on Timolus the mount he hath bene ſeene. He was ſo prict with Cupids dart, and caught in Venus trap, That tucke in womans weede he ſat with diſtaf in his lap And ſpoon the flaxe with ſombling fyſt, and rudely thumbde the threede Aud flong from him the ſyons caſe the price of noble deede. With treſſes tricke on plaited lockes he wayled as a mayde With myrre his ftiſeled poale was ſmeard, and curied buſh was brayde, Thus euery where as fancy flits, the fondling dotes in loue. But in ſuch ſort as eaſely he can the ſame remoue. DEI. But they whom fickle fanſies 〈◊〉 haue taynt, doe learne at laſt In linke of loue by tract of time to fix affiaunce faſt. NV. Trow yee that hee this captiue queane, and on whom hee doe ſee The daughter of his deadly foe, will more eſteeme then thee? DE. As gladſome groues at Prime of ſpring in beauties pride are ſeene When freſſheſt warmth the naked twigges doth clad in pleaſant greene. But when coulde Boreas boyſteous blaſt the pipling puffes doth ſtop Of ſouth winde ſweete, rough wynter powles the naked buſſhes top: The barewoode with miſſhapen ſtumpes doth ſhew a withered Face, Euen ſo my beauty marching forth a ſeaſon on his Race Still fades away, and euermore abates his glimſing gloſſe, And what ſo euer was in mee, by care is come to loſſe. And that which earſt by fanſy fed the greedy gazing eyes, Is fallen away by bearing childe: ſo oft it droupes, and dyes. And ſince I came to mothers ſtate. I faded faſt away. And wrinckled age with furrowed face ſteps in with quick decay. But yet this bondmaydes eauter freſh her ſorrow better brookes. Her comely countnaunce crazied is with leane and wanny lookes. And yet for all her kark and care amid her deepe iſtreſſe. Shee beares a glimſe of beauty bryght, and fauour nothing leſſe. Her heauy hap, and frowning rate can nothing from her plucke. Saue Scepter from her royall hande by all this lowring lucke. By meanes of this firſt faynting feare did lodge within my breaſt, That makes mee wake the weary nightes, and leeſe my kindely reſt. In all mens eyes at firſt I ſeemde to be a bleſſed Wyfe. And Ladies all at our eſtate repining very ryfe Did wyſhe my watch in ſpite of fate what S epſ er ſhall I hope As match in maieſty to Ioue within the heauenly coape? Deare foſterdame whom ſhall I make my feere in ſpowſall bed? Although Euryſt that Hercules to all theſe toyles hath led, Doe linke with mee in bridall bandes, my ſtate ſhalbe impayrde. Tis ſmall worth to deſerue to bee to kingly wedlock rayrde. NV. But Iſſue is the thing that doth in marriage kindell loue. DE. And Iſſue is the thing that doth in marriage mallice moue. NV. This while the bondmayde to thee for preſent ſhalbe braught DE. Loe hee etreth vp and downe with pryncely pore full haught, And buckles faſt about his Loynes the liuely Lyons caſe, Who doth inueſt the wretched with the right of kingly mace, D poſing thoſe from honoures type that late ſo lofty ſat. And peſtereth his puiſſaunt pawes with huge dvnweildy bat, Of whoſe exploytes, and maarciale actes the Seres ſing aloofe, And all encloſde in Ocean ſea thereof haue perfit proofe Is now became an amorous knight: the honour of his name Doth nothing touch his conſcience, to tender once his ame. Hee roueth through the worlde, as on that doth no whit eſteeme, Although that men as ſoone to Ioue ſhall him vnworthy deeme. Nor like the man whoſe credit through the townes of Greece is greate. Hee ſeekes to compaſſe his deſ er, to worke a Louers feate. With ſingle Dames is his delight: If any him deny, Then to attayne his lawleſſe luſt by rigour doth hee try. With men hee fareth frantickly, to others ſmart and blame Hee win his Wy es, his folly frayle is cloackt by vertues name. The noble City Oechalie is made a razed towne. The Sunne twixt morne and euen did ſet, in one day vp, and downe One day did ſee it ſtand in ſtate, the ſame did ſee it fall. Theſe bloudy broyles, and waſting warres of Loue proceeded all, As oft as parents vnto him deny theyr daughters deare, So oft I warrant them they neede his wrathfull fury feare. So oft a man with Hercules ſhalbe at deadly foode: As hee denies his ſtepfather to bee by ioyning bloude. If hee may not be ſonne in law, then doth hee rage, and raue: Why doe theſe guiltleſſe handes of myne ſtill keepe him from his graue, Till hee diſſemble franticke fits, to bend his ayming bowe, And deaths wounde on my chylde, and me with bloudy hands beſtowe? Thus hawty Hercules was wont his wedlockes to deuorce. Yet nought there is, that lawe of guilt on him might haue recorſe. Hee makes the worlde blame Iuno, for the ills hee hath commit. O rigour, of my rage why doſt thou quallify my fit? Now muſt thou ſet thy hands on worke, too't whi e thy hands bee hot. N. Thy huſband wilt thou ſlay? D. Him whō his Leman lewd hath got. NV. But yet, he is the ſonne of Ioue. DE. And ſo Alemenas ſonne. N. With ſtroke of ſteele? D. With ſtroke of ſteele if it cannot bee donne, Then for to bring his death to paſſe, ile ſet for him a ſnare. NV. What kinde of madneſſe may it be that makes thee thus to fare? D. Such as my huſband hath mee taught. N. Wilt thou thy ſpouſe deſtroy, On whom y ſtepdames ſpite yet had no power to work annoy? D. The wrathes of heauenly mindes do make thē bleſt on whō they light So doth not ſpite of mortall men. N. Oh ſilly wretched wight For beare thy rage, and feare the worſt, mans force may not aſſayle Him, that agaynſt the power of hell, and death coulde once preuayle. DE. Ile venter on the dint of ſwerd. N. Thy wrath (deare foſter child) Is greater then the crime, that hath thy Hercules defilde. With egall mallice meaſure ſaultes. Alas why doſt thou bring So great and ſore, a penalty vpon ſo ſwale a thinge? Let not thy griefe be greater, then the ſorrow thou ſuſtaynes. DE. Set you it light that with our wedlocke linkt an harlot raygnes Nay rather thinke it ſtill to much, that doth thy ſorrows breede. NV. And is the Ioue of Hercules reuolt from thee in deede? DE. T'is not reuolt, deare foſter Dame, faſt in my bones it ſtickes: But yre boyles hoate in burning breaſt, when loue to anger prickes. NV. It is almoſt a common guiſe, that wedded wyues doe haunte, Theyr huſbands hearts by magicke Arte, and witchcraft to enchaunte. In winter coulde I charmed haue the woods, to make them ſprout. And forſt the thunder dint recoyle, that hath bin boulting out. With waltring ſurges I haue ſhooke the ſeas amid the calme. I ſmoothed haue the wraſtling waues, and la de downe euery walme. The dry groūd gaped hath like gulphs, & out new ſprings haue guſht. The roring rocks haue quaking ſturd, & none therest hath puſht. Hell glounimy gales I haue braſt cape, where griſly ghoſts all huſht Haue ſtood & aunſwering at my charme the goblins grim haue ſcoulde. The threefolde headed hounde of hell wt barking throates hath houlde. Thus both the ſeas, the lande, the heauens, & hell bowe at my becke. Noone day to midnight, to and froe turnes at my charming checke. At my enchauntment euery thing declynes from natures lawe. Our charme ſhall make his ſtomacke ſtoupe, & bring him more in awe. D. What hearbes doe grow in Pontus ſea? Or els on Pindus hill? To trownce this macheleſſe champton, where ſhall I finde the ill? The magicke vearſe uchaunts the Moone from Starry ſkies to groūd, And fruictfull harueſt is thereby in barren winter found. The whiſking flames of lightning leames oft ſorcery doth ſtay. And noonetyde ropſy tur y oſt doth dim the duſky day. And leaue the welkin to the ſtarres, and yet not cauſe him ſtxsoupe. N. The Gods them ſelues by charme of loue haue forced bin to droupe. DE. Perhap hee ſhall be woon by one, and yeelde to her the ſpoyle. So loue ſhall be to Hercules the laſt and lateſt toyle. By all the hoſte of heauenly powers, and as thou ſeeſt mee feare, The ſecrets that I ſhall attempt, in councell ſee thou beare: NV. What may it be, that thou woulde haue me keepe ſo ſecretly? DE. No broyle of blades, no priue cote, no fiery force perdye: NV. I you aſſure I can conceale, if miſchiefe none be ment. For then the keeping cloſe of it is ſure a lewbe entent. DE. Then looke about, if none be heere, our councell to betray: Looke rounde about, on all ſides caſt thy countnaunce euery way. (NV. Beholde the place is ſafe inough from any liſtning eare.) DE. Beſide the place of our eſtate there is a ſecret nooke, A couert corner for our talke, that ſonneſhyne neuer tooke. Neyther at morne, nor euening tyde, when Titans blaze doth quench. And hee in ruddy weſterne waue his iry wheeles doth drench. There ſecret lyes the priuy proofe of Hercules amorous thought, Ile tell thee all deare foſter dame: This witchcraft Neſſus taught, Whom Ixion engendred of a myſty grouing clowde, Where Pindus hauiy hill his top among the ſtarres doth ſhrowde, And other ſtipe doth heaue his Creſt about the ryding rack When Achelous ouer layde, with many a thumping thwack Of Hercles club, did ſhift him ſelfe to euery kinde of ſhape, And triall made of all his ſleights none ſerued to eſcape, At length he turnde him ſelfe into the lykeneſſe of Bull. And ſo was fowly vanquiſhed in forme of horny ſcull. (While Hercules being Conquerour did me his Wyfe enioy.) Returning home to Greece agayne, it hapned Euen lake To ouerflow the drowned marſhe and channell to forſake, And ſtrongly ſtreamde to ſeas hee runns, and ſwells aboue his bankes. And Neſſu vſde to paſſe the poole, and ſearch the croking crankes As Ferryman demaundes his fare, and bare mee on his backe, And wading forward brake the Waues, and ſurges of the lake. At length yet Neſſus waded out vnto the farther ſhore, Yet Hercules had ſwam but halfe the riuer and no more: And plyde it hard to cut the ſtreame: but when eſpied had hee, That Hercules was farre behinde, Madam (quoth hee) to mee. (Be thou my booty, and my wyfe, and claſping mee about) Away he flings, and Hercules beſturres him mauger Waue: Though Ganges gulph and Iſter ſtreame (quoth he) thou traytour ſlaue Might roon in on, yet ſhi to ſcape them both, well coulde I make, And in thy haſt a ſhaft ſhall ſoone they running ouer take: And ere he ſpake the word, his arrow flew out of his bowe, And wrought a wounde in Neſſus ribbs, hee coulde no farther goe. It ſped him ſure, to looke for death. Hee cried, well away. The baggage running from the wounde reſerued as hee lay, And putting it into his hoofe the which vndoyng, hee In cutting yt with his owne hand, did geue it vnto me. And thus at latter gaſpe he ſayde, the witches haue me toulde, That loue may charmed be by this, to haue and keepe his hould. The conning witch dame Michale did teach Theſſalia dames, Who onely forſt the Mone to ſtoupe to her from heauenly frames. Therfore (quoth he) at any tyme when hateful whores abuſe Thy ſpoufall bed, or waueryng man do haunt to any ſtewes Then with this ſalue annoynt his ſhyrtes, and let it ſee no ſonne, But kepe it cloſe in corners darke, the bloud then ſhall not ſhonne His ſtrength: and thus ful ſodenly he left his talke with reſt: And deadly ſleepe with ſenceles death his feeble lims oppreſt. Thou Dame to whom in hope of truſt my ſecrets all bewray, On, that the poyſon ſoakt into the veſture bright, it may Preace through his limmes, vnto his hart, & ſinke through euery bone, N. I wil diſpatch it all in haſt, make thou thy earneſt mone Vnto the God, whoſe tender hand his ſtedfaſt dartes doth weild, D. I thee beſeech that art of earth and heauen in honour helde. And thou that ſhakeſt burning boltes, thou curſt and cruel boy, Whoſe eluiſh weapons make thy mother feare thy ſharpe annoy. Now arme thy hand with ſpeedy ſhaft not of the ſlender sort, But biggeſt boultes, with which as yet thou haſt aſſault no fort, We neede no litle ſhaft that may ſtyrre Hercules to loue Bring cruel handes and force thy how his depeſt draught to prooue Now, now draw forth thy ſhaft wherewith thou cauſed cruelly The burning breaſt of Ioue by fy tes of ſeruent loue to frye. When as the God his thonder bolt and lightning layd aſſyde, Gan boalne with bumpes on fo rehead big: and throught the waue he hid, And ſwam with Europ on his backe in ſhape of horny Bull. Now powre downe loue, and therwithall let Hecles hart be full. If Ioles beauty kyndle heate and Hercles hart doth moue, Quench thou theſe coales, and force him glow with vs in lawfull loue. Ful oft the thunder thumping Ioue hath ſtouped to thy yoke: And him that weildes the moary mace of blacke Auerne to ſmoake. Thy flames enforce, and ake the Lord of glummy Stigian lake: But onely match thou Hereules, and of him triumphe take O Ioue, whoſe wrath more wrackful is then yreful Iunoes might. The charme is made in perfecte force is al our medcine right, Wherein the ſhirt ſhal ſteeped bee that wearyed many wighte. Whoſe handes on Pallas diſtaſſe ſpoone the weary Web with payne. And it for Hercules auayle ſhall brincke vp all the bane. And with my charme Ile ſtrengthen it. But loe yee in the nick Defte Lycas commeth heere at hand who will diſpatche it quick: But tell him not what force it hath leaſt hee the guilt betray. DEI. Alas that fayth to kinges dwells not in howſes of eſtate: Haue Lycas heere this ſhirt, the which my handes haue spun of late, Whyle Hercules at randon roues, and ouerſhot with wyne Doth rudely dandle on his lap the Lidiane Lady fyne. Now doates hee after Iole: but this his boyling rage That burneth in his breaſt I will with curteſy aſſwage, For curteſy conquers canckred churles. See thou my ſpouſe deſire, Hee ſpare the Shirt, vntill hee ſet the Franckinfence on fire, And offer vp his ſacrifice, and weare his Garlond gray Of Popler boughes on wreathed •• ckes. And I will goe my way To'th royall Gods, and will beſeeke the cruell Cupids dame. Yee ladies and companions that with mee heather came, Now force the fountaynes of your teares from watred eyes to roon, To wayle our Countrey Calydon on euery ſide vndoon. Chorus. O DEIANIRE deare daughter of our King OENEVS late, to ſee thy frowning fates Woe after woe thus downe on thee to fling, It irks our heartes, that were thy foſter mates. O woefull wight it pitieth vs to ſee, Thy wedlock in this tickle ſtate to bee. Wee Lady, wee, that with thee wonted were With flapping Oare on Acheloe to rowe, When hauing paſt the ſpryng tyme of the yere, With Channell ſmoth hee newely wexeth lowe, And makes agayne his ſwelling ſurges calme, And boobling runnes at Ebbe withouten walme. Through weale and woe wee ſtill with thee remayne, And now what griefe ſo euer thou feare in mynde, Account thou vs as partners of thy payne, For commonly when Fortune turnes the wynde. And makes thee beare thy beaten Sayle but low, Then friendſhip ebbes, where it before did flow. And who ſo guydes the ſway of golden mace, Though people thicke doe haunte his ſtately courte, And in at hundred gates doe preace a pace, Yea though that thou mayntaine ſo great a porte, To ga de thee with this garriſon, yet ſhall Thou ſcarcely finde one faithfull hearte of all. In paynted porche, and gates of guilded bowers The lurcking hagge Eryn her tuſkes doth whet: And ſturring ſ rife with quarreling face ſhee lowers. The portly doar •• es no ſ •• ner o pe are ſet, But treaſon black, pale enuy deepe deceight, With priuy knyfe of murther ſtep in ſtreight. And when the Prynce appeares in open place, To ſhew him ſelfe before his ſubiects ſight, Swelling deſpight attendeth on his grace: As oft as dawning day remoues the nyght, And euery time the ſunne at Weſt goes downe, They looke another man ſhould clayme the Crowne. Fewe heartes loue kinges, not few their kingly might: The glorious ſhew of courtly countenaunce Bewitcheth many: where one ſets his delight How next the king hee may him ſelfe aduaunce. That through high ſtreetes hee may as lorde of rule With lofty lookes, ryde mounted on his Mule. Ambitious heate enflames his hawty breaſt. Another would his greedy hunger ſtaunch With gubbes of goulde, (and though hee it poſſeſt) Rich Arabie ſerues not his pyning paunch, Nor weſtern India (aworlde for to behoulde) Where Tagus flowes with ſtreames of glittring goulde. The couetous charle, the greedy gnoffe in deede, In whom from cradell nature ſo it plantes, No hourded heapes his endleſſe hunger feede. In plenty pines the wreatch, in wealth hee wantes. Some other fondlings fanſy thus doth guyde, To fawne on kings, and ſtill in courte to byde. As one diſdayning lyke a Country mome And crooked clowne, the plowe to follow ſtill: Although the dingthryfte dayly keepe at home A thouſand drudges, that his lande doe Tyll: Yet wantes his will and wiſſheth wealth therefore, Onely to waſte on other men the more. Another claweth and flattreth faſt the King, By clymbing vp to treade downe euery wyght: And ſome at leaſt to blookam Feaſte to bryng. And thus hee ſtriues to arme himſelfe with myght In bloude: but of their ſhip doth Fortune fayle, When ſafe they thinke to floate with higheſt ſayle. Whom Moone at morne on top of Fortunes wheele High ſwayed hath ſeene, at fulneſſe of renowne, The glading ſunne hath ſeene his Scepter reele, And him from high fall topſey turuey downe. At morne full merry, blith, in happy plight, But whelmde in woes and brought to bale ere nyght. Theſe ſildome meete hoare hayres and happy dayes: The Lord that lyes on ſtately crimſen bed Sleepes more in feare, then ſnoring drudge, that layes Vpon the countrey clod his drowſy head. In goulden roofes, and hauty courtes they keepe, Whoſe dreadfull dreames doe make them ſtarte in ſleepe. The purple roabes lyeth waking many a night, And ſlombers not, when homely ragges doe reſt. O if as at a Grate eſpy wee might The ſorrowes, ſhrined in a Prynces breaſt. What pangues, what ſtormes, what terrour, O what hell In ſighing heartes or prowde eſtates doth dwell? 〈1 page duplicate〉 〈1 page duplicate〉 The Iryſhe Seas doe nener roare ſo ruffe, When wraſtling waues, and ſwelling ſurges ryfe, That hoyſted are with ſturdy northern puffe, As fearefull Fanſyes doe theyr myndes aggryſe. But hee ſighes not, nor combred is with care, Whom Fortune hath bequeath'de a ſlender ſhare. In woodden diſhe and blacke beche Bole hee ſwills, And heaues it not to mouth with quaking hand. With homely fare his hungry Mawe hee fills, And leares not backe for feare of thoſe that ſtand With naked ſwerdes: but Kings in goulden cup Wyne blent with bloude (moſt dreadfull draughts) do ſup. In dainty diſhe the poyſon bayte is layde, And treaſon lurkes amid the ſugred wyne A euery bit they quake, and are a frayde, The ſwerde will fall, that hanges but by a twyne, And euer as hee liftes his head, and drynkes, The rebelles Knyfe is at his throate hee thinkes. Such flattring ioyes theſe happy worldlinges haue. Their outwarde pomp pretendeth luſty liues. When inward ly they drowpe, as doth the ſlaue That pines in pangues faſt clogde in goulden guies. Striue not in haſt, to climbe the whirling wheele, For haſty climers oft in haſte doe reele. Meane dames defy both peareles and glittring ſpanges, And goulden chaynes with rubies ryche beſet, Nor at theyr eares doe maſſy Iewelles hange With turky ſtones: nor pranked prowde they iet Iu murrey gownes: nor doth the wooll they weare Of Crymſen dye the coſtly colour beare Neyther in Tiſſew, nor ſilken garments wrought With needle, nor embroadred Roabes they goe: And yet this ſtate is free from Iealous thought, Theyr wedding is not vnto them theyr woe. When thouſand ſtormes in Ladyes hearts doe dwell By wedlocke breach, that breedes their noyſom hell. VVho ſo he is that ſhunnes the middle waye, Shall neuer fynd faſt footing any where. The wilful lad that needes would haue a day. And wayghty charge of Fathers charyot beare: VVhile he from wonted wayes his Iades doth iaunce, Amonge ſtraunge ſtarres they pricking forward praunce, Enforcing them with Phoebus flames to frye, Whoſe roaming wheeles refuſe the beaten rutt: Thus both himſelfe, and all the Criſtall ſkye In peril of the ſoulthring fyre he put. So hawty myndes that clymbe aboue their ſkill, Do worke their owne decay, and others yll. While Daedalus in flying through the ayre Did keepe the midſt betweene the ſkie and grounde He could in ſafe to Italy repayre, And gaue no gulph his name by beyng dround. But Icarus preſumes to mount on hie, And ſtryues aboue the fethered foules to flye. And ſcornes the guyding of his fathers trayne. And in his flight wil coape to lofty ſonne: Which molt his winges ſo downe he droppes agayne Into the ſeas, whereby his name they woone Thus proud attemptes of hauty clyming hier Receiue ſhrewde falles to quit their fond deſyre. Let other mount aloft let other ſore, As happy men in great eſtate to ſitte. By flattring name of Lord I ſet no ſtore: For vnder ſhore my little keele ſhall flitt: And from rough wyndes my ſayles fayne would I kepe, Leaſt I be driuen into the daungerous deepe. Prowde Fortunes rage doth neuer ſtoupe ſo low As litle roades, but them ſhee ouerflyes And ſeekes amid mayne ſeas her force to ſhew On argoſies, whoſe toppes do reach the ſkyes But lo, here comes our Lady Deianire, Straught of her wits, and ful of furious yre,
THE THIRD ACTE Deianira, Chorus, ALas through all my quiueryng ioyntes a running feare doth reſt, My ſtaryng hayre ſtandes ſtiffe vpright and in my quaking breaſt Deepe terrour dwelles, and eake my hart, with dread amazde doth pant, With ſwelling vaynes my liuer beates, as when the wynd doth want Aſſwagd in calmy day, and yet the raging Seas do rore Whoſe wraſtling waues were raiſ'd aloft by Southren blaſtes before. So yet my wits be tockſicate, although my feare be gone: Thus God turmoyles vs when he meanes to cloy th'unhappy one. Thus prowd attempts bedaſht at length, Ch. Oh wretch, O carefull wight, What miſchiefe may it be wherwith thou art ſo ſore affright. Dei. The ſhirt with Neſſus ban imbrewde no ſouer hence was ſ nt, And wretched woman that I am toth cloſet ſtrayght I went. (My mynd miſtruſts I knowe not what, and treaſon dath ſurmyſe) And Neſſus by the heate bewrayed, that faynted was the bloud: The God foreſhewed that here the force of all the treaſon ſtoode: For by good hap the fomy glede no foggy clowde doth dim. But with ful power of burning beames he ſhyned blaſing brim. Scant yet I can for feeble feare vnlocke my faſtned •• wes, The ſcorching heate doth d ye away, and vp by force it drawes The ſoaked bloud that beyng layed amid the frying flame And boyling heate of ſhyning ſonne did ſhrinke before the ſame: Wherein the ſhyrt was ſteept, and all the royall robe imbrewde: I cannot ſhew the villany wherwith it was indewde: For as the Eaſterne wynd doth force the winter ſnow to melt, Or lukewarme South when in the ſpring frō Mimas mount they ſwelt As Lucas els that fronters on Ionian ſea, a land Doth breake the waue the beaten ſurge lies foaming on the ſtrand Or by the warmth of heauenly heat the frankinſence doth drop So all the venim waſtes away, and melteth euery croppe. And while I wonder ſtil hereon the wonder ſhrynkes away But with a froath it ſpo •• es the ground, and there the poyſon lay, It rotts the cloth: my woman boalne and ſweld doth follow me, And ſhakes her head my ſonne as one aſtoniſhed I ſee: And hying hether all in haſt declare what newes ye bring. Hillus, Deianira, Nutrix. GO mother goe, ſeeke out aloofe yf place of bydyng dwell Beyond the ground both goulfe and ſtarres beyond both heauen and hell, Flye mother far beyond the boundes of Hercules his toyle Dei. A miſchiefe great I know not what within my breaſt doth boyle: Hil. Unto the royall temples of dame Iunoes tryumph hie Theſe will allow the ſanctuary though other it denye Dei. What heauy hap is it that may annoy my guiltleſſe ghoſt Hyl. Oh mother, O that diamond of the world that piller poſt Whom fate as Ioues lieuetenaunt heare haue placed for the nones Is dead: and Neſſus burning bane deuouers Hercles boanes The daunter of the brutiſh beaſtes he conquering knight before Is conquerd now: he mournes, he walles, what aſke ye any more Dei. We wretches loue the order of our wretchednes to heare, Tell me the ſtate now of our ſtocke what countnance doth it beare: O ſtock, O ſylly wretched ſtocke now ſhal I be eſteemd, A widdow now, a coſt of now, and now a beggar deemd. Hil. Thou doſt not languiſh all alone for Hercules yes dead: For whom the eyes of all the world haue cauſe their teares to ſhed. Count not thy fate allotted thee alone: now all our kind Do howle and mourne for him whom thou beway leſt in thy minde, Thou ſuffreſt greefe, the ſmart wherof belonges to euery land Although the ſower aſt therof firſt happen to thy ha de Thou careful caytiffe doſt not wayle for Hercules alone. D. Speake, ſpeake, how nigh to Deathward was my deare Alcides go ? Hi. Death whom in his owne empyre hee had conquered before, Did ſhrinke from him and fate durſt not allow a deede ſo ſore, And Clotho ſhe perhap put out her rocke with trembling arme As one that haſtning Hercles death, did feare to do ſuch harme, O day, O diſmall day, and ſhall euen Hercules the greate Paſſe thus to death, and ſilent ſhades and to a worſer ſeate (De. Is he thinke you already dead or may I dye before) Speake on, if yet he be not deade Hi. Euboea that doth riſe, With hauty creſt ringes euery where, and Caphar rocke likewyſe Deuydeth Helleſpontus ſea and turnes that ſide to ſouth, Wheras it bides the boyſteous blaſtes of Boreas wyndy mouth: Euripus bendes his wandring ſtreame and windes in creakes about His croked courſe ſeuentymes and doth as often breake it out: While Phoebus drencht his wecye teame amid the Weſterne waue (Here on a rocke aboue the reach of cloudes a temple braue) Of Caenaei Ioue ſhew bright whyle all the beaſtes for ſacrifice At th'alter ſtoode, and through the woode the noyſe began to riſe, Of al the herd: then of he put he matterd Lyons caſe, And likewyſe did diſcharge him of his houge and heauy mace A d eaſde his ſhoulder from the burthen of his quiuer light. Then tuckt in your attyre he ſhone among the people bright With ougly lockes, and on the alter made the fier flame Receyue (quoth hee) theſe fruits (O ſyre) though fyer ſend the ſame And not the harueſt Sithe: but let with frankinſence good ſtore The fyer burne that far the riche Arabyan therfore Doth gather out of Saba trees for Phoebus ſacrifyce The earth (quoth he) is now at peace, ſo be both ſea and ſkies All beaſtes be conquered, and I am victor come agayne. Lay downe thy lightning leames (O Ioue) in feare thou nede not raign In middeſt of his prayers thus wherat I was agaſt, Hee fell to ſighes and grieuous groanes, and al the ſkyes at laſt With dreadful crying lowde he filles Euen as the braynſick bull. When with the axe in wounde he ſcapes doth fil the temples full Of roaring noyſe. Or as the thunder throwne from heauen doth rumble in the ſkyes, Euen ſo the ſeas and ſtarres of heauen doth Hercles ſhake with cryes Both Calpe clyue, and Cyclas yle wel hard his yellyng haue, Here Caphat rockes there al the woods therof an Echo gaue. Wee ſaw him weepe, the people thought his former franucke fyttes Had now agayne as earſt they did bereaue him of his wi tes His ſeruaunts ſcatter then for fecare, while he with flaming eyes, Al ſtaryng ſtandes with tleaming lookes among them all he pryes For Lyca: him alone he doth purſew, who in his arme With trembling hand the alter held and ſcaped al the harme, By dying firſt for faynting feare, and while Alcyde helde The quaking Carkas in his hand thou ſhalt (quoth he) be queld And beaten with this fiſt of myne, O Gods eternall raygne Wretch Licas killeth Hercules, and hath his conqueroure ſlayne, But o another ſlaughter yet: for Hercules agayne Killes Lycas: thus the ſacrifyce of Gods with bloud they ſtayne, With Lycas thus his labours and throwne vp to heauen they ſay, That with his dropping bloud the cloudes he ſtayned all the way. Euen as the pitched dart of Gete with pith doth ſcore the ſkyes, Or as the whirling ſting of Creete doth make the p ller ryſe: So ſwift he mounted vp to heauen, but downe his body dropte, And as his Carkas fel, among the rockes his necke it chopt. The graue prepared for their corps (quoth Hercules) beſtill, I am no brainſteke franticke man, but loe this defpret ill More noylome is theu rage or wrath, it caleth much my will To wrecke my rage vppon my ſelfe, his mallady he ſcant Bewryes: but fareth frantt kly: and he himſelfe doth rent His limmes, and ryflyng them, with mighty hand a ſunder teares, And ſtriues to ſtrip him ſelfe of all th'apparell that he weares, And onely this was it, of all the thinges that I do know, That paſt the power of Hercules yet ſtandes he pulling ſo And plucketh of his limmes withall the veſture doth not linne To bring of lumpes of filthy fleſh the ſhyrt ſtickes to the ſkyne But what ſhould ayl the poy on ranke none knoweth what, nor whye And yet there is good cauſe it er of: now grouelyng doth he lye And beates his face agaynſt the ground to water now he hyes, But water cannot coole his heate, and now to ſhore he plyes. And for his ſucoure ſeckes to ſeas, at lengri, his men him calth We holding him (alas the whil'ſt were able him to match Now in a keele amid the ſeas we launched were aloofe, And Hercles payſe was hoſted with a litle ſoutherne puffe My Ghoſt then left my careful coarſe and darkneſſe dimd my ſight Why ſtay I wreche? why doth this dreary deede make mee afright. Her coapefellow dame Iuno doth reclayme, and Ioue his ſonne, The world muſt render him then doe as much as may be donne, And boare my body with a ſworde ſuch ſower ſauce is dew To her, whoſe curſed caytiffe hand her loue ſo lightly ſlew. O Ioue with fier and lightning flaſh deſtroy thy wretched Neece. Let not thy mighty hand be armed with a ſlender peece. Let braſt the boult from ſkies wherewith thou wouldeſt Hydra burne. If Hercles had not bin thy ſonne thereof to ſerue the turne Strike mee with v couth peſtilence, and with ſuch weapon ſmite, As may be farre more yrkeſome plague then all my ſtepdames ſpite. Driue forth thoſe deadly dartes that earſt young Phaëthon ouerthrew When be full crancke in firy carte, about the heauens flew: For thus by ſlaying Hercules, eake Nations ſlaine I haue What neede thou Deianire of Gods a toole of death to craue. Now trouble not thy ſtepſter Ioue, thinke ſcorne may Hercles wyfe To wiſhe for death, for to her heart her hand ſhall ſet the knyfe Diſpatch then quickly with the blade, yet let thy blade alone, For who with weapon endes their lyfe tis long ere they be gon I wilbe headlong hurled from a rocke as hie as ſkies. The Oeta hill this ſhalbe it, where firſt the ſonne doth ryſe, Thence will I throwe my body downe, the edge of braſten rocke Shal cleaue my corps, and euery crag ſhall geue a brooſing knock. My hand ſhall hang torne by the way the rugged mountayne ſide Shall with the guſhing bubbles of my dropping bloud be dyde On death w re vengeaunce ſmall, though ſmall yet may it be delayde. What deſpret death I ſhould attempt it makes my heart diſmayde: Alas, alas that Hercles ſwerd within my chamber ſtucke Then well were I if for to dye on that it were my lucke. It is inough if one right hand doe bring vs both to graue. Come neare, come neare yee Nations, now let all people haue In redineſſe, both ſtone and fier the ſame to throw at mee, Now holde your hands, and take yee to your tooles for I am ſhee That of your ſuccour ſpoyled you now cruell Kayſars may All vncontrolled tyrantlike, in kingdomes weilde the ſway, Now euery miſchiefe may ſtart vp, and not rebuked bee. The alters now ſhall vp agayne that wonted wers to ſee A bloudy offring like him ſelfe in kinde that offer ſhould. Thus haue I made the guilty gap to let in bloudſhed boulde I render you to tyrants kings, bugges, beaſts, and gryſely diuells. By taking him away that ſhould reuenge you of theſe euilles. O ſpouſe thou of the thunderer and can you yet forbeare Wilt thou not fling thy flames from heauen as did thy brother deare? Diſpatch me hence ſent vp to Ioue, wilt thou not me deſtroye The greateſt prayſe that thou might winne then ſhall thou not enioy Nor luſty tryumphe: I am ſhe that beare the name to be The daughter of the man that would in prowes caape with thee. N. Why wilt thou ſtayne thy ſtocke which hath vntaynted bene before, This il procedes of ygnorance although it be ful ſore: Hee is not gylty that committes the gylte not with his will. D. Wel may hee erre of ignorance that fauoreth his ill And ſpares himſelfe: my ſelfe of death moſt worthy I do deeme. N. He doth condemne himſelfe to dye that needes wil guylty ſeeme. D. Death can deceiue no one but ſuch as innocentes may bee. N. Wilt thou forſake the gloryous ſonne? D. The ſonne forſaketh mee. N. Wretch wil thou caſt away thy life. D. Yea though it be to death, I follow wil my Hercules N. He hath both life and breath D. When he perceaued him ouermatcht he haſtned his decay. N. Wilt thou forgoe thy ſonne, and eake preuent thy dying day? D. Her ſelfe hath liued long ynough who buryed hath her childe. N. And wilt thou follow on to death thy ſpouſe D. yea Ladies mild Before their huſbandes vſe to dye. N. Thy ſelfe thou doſt accuſe Of guylt if thou cōdemne thy ſelfe. D. No gylty one doth vſe To take reuengemente of themſelues. N. But thoſe are pardoned 〈◊〉 That do oftend of ygnoraunce and not of peuiſh wil Who wil condemne the deede hee doth? D. Ech man doth ſeeke to ſhun His lot when ſpite of frowning fate againſt him ſeemes to runne. N. And he for whom thou languiſheſt, with arrow ſlow his wyfe Hight Megara, and did deſtroy his tender childrens life. When as a braynſicke beaſt in hand he toſt his knarrye mace, That ſqueaſde the ſnake in Lerna lake before his fathers face. He played thryſe the murtherer, himſelfe yet he forgaue And for the haynous gylt hee did when frenzy made him raue He purgde himſelfe in Cynips ſpring toward the Southerne poale And in the water bath'd his hand againe to make him hoale. Now whether wilt thou caytiffe wretch, why doſt thou dam thy handes D. In condemnation of theſe the ghoſt of Hercles ſtandes. I meane to plague the treachery. N. Your Hercules wel I know, Perhap he wil be heare agayne and mayſter al his woe: Then ſhall your ſlaked greefe vnto yobr Hercules geue place. DE. They ſay the ſerpents poyſon doth deuowen him apace The poyſon of his wicked Wyle his luſty lims deſtroyes. NV. And think yee it to bee the ſerpents bane that him annoyes, That hee cannot eſcape who bare the brunt of it aliue, And how to pare of Hydraes heads he coulde full well contryue When as the victour ſtoode with grinning teath amid the moode, And all his body ſlauerde fowle with venomous ſpit and bloude, And ſhall the Centaur Neſſus goare agaynſt the man preuayle That made thy pithy ſtrength it ſelfe of Neſſus for to quayle. DE. In vayne yee reſcue her that is of purpoſe ſet to dye Therefore I haue determinde with my ſelfe this lyfe to flye And long inough hee lyued hath that may with Hercles dye. NV. I doe beſeech thee humbly for this gray and hoary head, And for theſe pappes that as thy Mother haue thee nouriſhed, Remove the feruent ſits that cage within thy boyling breaſt, And ſuffer not theſe deſpret thoughtes of death in thee to reſt. DE. Who woulde perſwade a wretch to liue. He hath a cruell heart? And though that death be vnto me a great and grieuous ſmart: Yet vnto other ſome it is an e ſ ing of their payne. NV. O wreatch excuſe thy handy worke, and ſay at laſt agayne, T'is ignoraunce that did the deede, and not the willfull Wyfe. DE. It wilt be quit whereas th'infernall •• endes ſhall ſtint the ſtryfe And quit my guilty ghoſt: my conſcience doth my hands condem. But Pluta Prince of glummy goulph ſhall purge from ſlaughter them: Before thy bankes I will appeare forgetfull Lethes Lake, And being then a dolefull ghoſt my huſband will I take. But thou that wields the ſcepter blacke of darke internall ſkies Apply thy toyle: the haynous guilt that nons durſt enterpryſe, This ignoraunce hath ouercom, Dame Iuno neuer dare To take away our Hercules. Thy plunging plagues prepare, Let Siſiphs ſtone on my neck force my ſtouping ſhoulders ſhrynke, And let the fleeting licour from my gaping gums to ſynke. Yea let it mock my thyrſty throate when as I meane to drynke, And thou that rackes Ixion King of Theſſayle O thou Wheele, My haynous handes deſerued haue thy ſwinging ſway to feele, And let the greedy gripe ſcratch out theſe guts on eyther ſide, If Danaus pitchers ceaſe: by mee the rome ſhalbe ſupplide. Set open hell, take mee Medea as 〈◊〉 of thy giult. This hand of myne, then both of thyne more cruell bloud hath ſpilt More then thou did as in reſpect of mother to thy thylde. Or loking to thy brothers ghoſt whoſe gore hath thee defylde, Haue with the Lady thou of Thrace for ſuch a cruel wyfe, And the Althe that burnt the brand of Meleagers life. Receyue thy daughter now, denye me not thy babe to bee: Why ſuch a one ſhould quayle by you, ſome reaſon let vs ſee: Ye honeſt matrons that enioy the groues of holy wood Agaynſt me ſhut the heauens, or ſuch whoſe handes wt huſbandes blood Haue bene imbrewde, if any of the fifty ſiſters dyre Defying honeſt duty all that wedlocke did require: But deſprat dames with goary blades ſtood armde: in me let them See and allow theyr bloudy handes that other wil condem. I wil go get my ſelfe among the troupe of cruel wyues But they wil ſhunne ſuch gylty handes as ſhred their huſbandes liues. O valiant ſpouſe, a guil •• ſſe ghoſt, but gylty handes I haue Ah ſilly woman, woe is me, that giuen light credite haue O traytor Neſſus while I ment by Centaures ſubtil charme To draw from Iole Hercles loue my ſelfe ſuſtayne the harme. Hence Phoebus hence, and thou O ſlickring life of her that lackes Her Hercules and giueſt day to wretches in their wrackes. This is a diſmal day: to thee Small penaunce yeld I will And life with all: my woeful fate ſhal I continue ſtil Deferryng death, O ſpouſe that of thy hand I may be ſlayne, And doth their any ſparke of life yet in thy breaſt remayne? Or can thy hand yet draw the bow Sarmacian ſhaft to caſt, Do weapons ceaſe, and haue thy feble handes giuen vp at laſt Thy bow? but if thy hardy wyfe to thee a toole may reache I long to peryſh of thy hand, myne hower yet wil I ſtretche Like gyltleſſe Licas mangle me diſperſe in other townes My corpes, and hurle me 〈◊〉 worlde beyond the trauayles bownes. Trounce mee like monſter Arcadie or ought that did rebell, And yet thou ſhalt do nought but that becommes an huſband wel. Hi. I pray you mother ſpare your ſelfe, forgeue your fatal lot, If ye offend of ygnoraunce, then blame deſerue yee not De. If thou regard true honeſty, thy wretched mother ſlay. Why trembleth thus thy feareful hand, why lokeſt thow away? Such ſinne ſhalbe a ſacrifyce why daſtard doſt thou feare? I ſpoylde thy father Hercules, this hand, this hand aleare Hath murdred him wherby I haue done thee a more deſpyte, Then ioy I did, in that my wo be did bring thee firſt to light. If yet thou know not how to kill, then practiſe fyrſt on mee. If as thou like within my throate thy blade ſhal ſheathed be Or if to paunch thy mother ſoone thou meane to take in hand To yeeld her dreadleſſe ghoſt to thee thy mother ſtill ſhall ſtande, It ſhall not wholly be thy deede, by thee it ſhall be done, And cauſed by my wil to be. Art thou Alcides ſoon And all affrayd? ſo ſhal thou neuer great exployts atchieue Nor paſſe the worlde ſuch feats of armes and ſleightes for to contriue. If any monſter ſhould be bred thy fathers courage ſhew, And to it with vnfeareful arme, loe ouerchargde with woe My breaſt lies bare vnto thy hand. Stryke, I thy gylt forgeue The f endes infernall for their ſinne thy ſoule ſhal neuer greeue. What yerking noyſe is this we heare what hagge here haue we fownd That beares aboute her writhen lockes theſe vgly adders wound, And one her yrkſome temples twayne her blackyſh innes do wagge. Why chaſe ye mee with burning brandes Megera filthy hagge Alcides can but vengeance aſke, and that I wil him get But haue the iudges dyre of hell for yt in counſell ſet But of the dreadful dongeon dores I ſee thunfoulding leaues What auncient ſier is he that on his tatred ſhoulder heaues Th'un weiloy ſtone that borne toth top agayne doth downward reele Or what is e that ſpraules his lims vppon the whirling wheele Lo heare ſtood ougly Tiſiphon with ſterne and ghaſtly face, And did demaunde with ſteaming eies the manner of the caſe. O ſpare thy ſtrypes Megera ſpare, and with thy brandes away, Th'offence I did was ment in loue, but whether do I ſway The groūd doth ſinke, the roofe doth cracke, whether went this raging route, Now al the world with gaſing eyes ſtand ſtaring me about On euery ſide the people grudge and call for their defence. Be good to me O nations whither, ſhall I get mee hence? Death onely is my loade of reſt there may my ſorrowes byde I do proteſt the fiery wheeles that Phoebus charyot guide. That heare I dye and leaue the worlde, thers Hercles yet behynde. Hi. Away ſhe runnes agaſt: aye me, ſhee hath fullylde her mynd, For purpoſed ſhe was to dye and now remaynes my wil For to preuent her that by force her ſelfe ſhe ſhall not kill O miſe rable prety, if I my mother aue. I ſim a gaynſt my father then, but if vnto the graue I let h r goe, then toward her a treſpas ſoule there lyes. And t hus (alas) on eyther ſyde great miſchiefe doth aries, And needes her purpoſe muſt be ſtayde Ile hie and take in hand To ſtop her deſpret enterpryſe and miſchiefy to withſtand. Chorus. FVll true the dytty is That holy ORPHEVS ſang, On Thracian harpe with ſounde whereof the Rocks of Rodop rang, That nothing is creat For euer to endure. Dame Natures byrdes each on muſt ſtoupe when death throwes out the lure. The head wyth Criſpen lockes, or goulden hayres full: In time hath borne an hoary bush, or bin a naked ſcull. And that which tract of time doth bring out of the grayne, Olde SATVRNE sharps his Syth at length to reape it downe agayne. Though PHOEBVS ryſe at morne, with glistring rayes full proude, Hee runnes his race, and ducketh downe at length in foggy Clowde. Toth Gaetans ORPHEVS ſang ſuch kinde of melody. And how the gods themſelues were bounde to lawes of destiny. The God that doth the yeare. By egall partes diſpoſe, Howe fatall webbe in euery clyme are dayly ſpunne he showes. For all thinges made of moulde The grounde agayne will gape, As Hercles preacheth playne by proofe that nothing can eſcape. For ſhortly shall enſue Diſcarge of Natures Lawe And out of hande the gloming daye of doome shall onwarde drawe Then all that lies within The ſcorching Libicke clyme, The poale antarticke of the South. shall ouerwhelme in tyme. Poale articke of the North Shall iumble, all that lyes VVithin the Axeltree, whereon, drye BORES blaſinge flyes The shiuerynge Sunne in Heauen Shall leeſe his fadyng lighte The Pallace of the frames of Heauens shall runne to ruin quight. And all theſe blockiſh Gods Some kynd of Death ſhall quell, And in confuſed CHAOS blynde they ſhall for euer dwell, And after ruin made Of Goblin, Hegge, and Elfe, Death shall bringe finall destenye, at last vppon it ſelfe. VVhere shall be then beſtowde The world ſo huge a maſſe, The beaten hye way vnto hell is like away to paſſe, To leade vnto the Heauens That shall be layed flatt: The ſpace betwene the Heauen and earth, inough thinke ye is that? Or is it not to much For worldly miſeryes: VVher may ſuch heaps of ſinnes be lodgd what place aboue the ſkyes? Remaynes, but that the ſea VVith Heauen and lowest Hell, Three Kingdomes caſt in one are like within one roofe to dwell. But hark what roaring crye, Thus beates my fearefull eare But lo its Hercules that yelles tis Hercules I heare.
THE FOVRTH ACTE Hercules, Chorus. REtyre, retyre thy breathing breaſtes, O Titan blaſing bright, Vnfold thy myſty mantle blacke of dim and darkeſome Night: And daſh this dreary day wherin I Hercules muſt die. With blemiſhblack of filthy fogge defyle the grieſly ſkye: Pre •• en my ſtepdames naughty mynd. Now ſhould I haue reſignde, (O Father) my inheritaunce of Plutoes dungeon blynd Heauen frames ſhould here & there be braſt, & eyther poale ſhould crack Why ſpareſt thou the ſtarres and le ſt thy Hercles go to wracke? Now Ioue loke round aboute the heauens, and if thou can eſpye On gyant heaue the Theſſaill cliues agaynſt thaſſalted ſkye Vnburdned be Enceladus of hugye Oſir hill, And hurled be on Hercules the mighty mountayne ſtill Prowde Pluto ſhall vnbarre the gates of blacke and glummy caue Yet maugre all their might (o Father Ioue) I wil thee ſaue From fury of thy oes, and ſet thee vp agayne in ſkyes, Yet lo Ioue, loe, her that on earth thy thunderdint ſupplies, And for to be liuetenaunt of thy boultes on earth was borne, Is ſent to burning Limbo lake in tormentes to be torne The ſterne Enceladus agayne in ramping rage ſhal ryſe And hurle the weighte (that now doth cro de him downe) againſt the ſkies, Thus by my death they ſhal preſume to conquer heauen all But ere that day vppon my corſe compel the heauens to fall Breake downe, breake downe, the welkin that thou ſuffreſt to decay, Ch. O ſonne of thunder thumping Ioue no ſhadowes do thee fray, Now Oſſa mount of Theſſalie ſhal Pelion hill downe cruſh And Athos pilde on Pindus toppe his buſhy hed ſhall puſh Among the ſtarry ſkes therby aboue the craggy rockes. Typhoëus vp ſhal clyme, and thumpe with ſtore of ba tryng knockes Iuarmen ſtone in Tyrren ſea from thence eake ſhall he beat The ſmoaky forge of Aetna mount, that glowes with ſtewing heate Enceladus not ouerthrowne yet with the thunder cracke Shal hew the mountayne ſyde in twayne, and truſſe it on his backe The ſignes of heauen ſhal follow thee and goe with thee to wracke Her. I that returnde from dennes of death, and Stigian ſtreame defyed And ferryed ouer Lethes lake, and dragd vp, chaind, and tyde The tryple headded maſtiffe hownd, when Tytans teeme did ſtart So at the ougly ſight that he fel almoſt from his cart. Euen I whoſe pith the kingdomes three of Gods ful wel haue knowne Lo yet myne end I daunted am by death and ouerthrowne But yet no bloudy blade agaynſt my riued rybbes doth craſh It is no rock that vnto death my bruſed bones doth paſh Nor as it were with O ſir hill that clouen were in twayne, Nor with the ſway o all the mountayne falling am I ſlayne. The glaring eyed giant grym doth not now ſqueaze my coarſe With paiſe of Pindus roch and thus not feling enmyes force I conquerd am and yet alas this coarſie frets me more O feeble force of man: he whom no might could match before Withouten any conqueſt made doth end his latter day, Without exployt or feat of armes my ſelfe I paſſe away. O mighty vmpier of the world and all ye Ghoſtes aboue That witnes how in quarell good my right hand euer ſtroue O all ye landes, O earth alas, may it your mercy pleaſe To ſpoyle the ſpiteful ſting of death that dauntes your Hercules Fy fye, what ſhame is it to vs what filthy fate we haue? A woman prowde ſhall boaſt her bane brought Hercles to his graue Then what are they whoſe mortall mayme Alcides weapon gaue If thus with ſway inuincible my fatal wheele do run And neede muſt on this ſhameful rocke my fatall twiſt be ſpunne: As by a womans curſed hand my bloud ſhould thus be ſhed Yet Iunoes mallice migh haue powrd this vengeance on my head, So might a womans deadly band have brought me to my beere: But pet a woman wellding ſway amid the welkin cleare But this ſeemde ouerprowde attempt for Gods to take in hand The paples dame in Scithia borne where pight on hie o h s;tand The Apeltree whereon the vnderpropped poales do ſway It might as wel haue bene her hap to take my breath away, What womans might may maiſter me Queene Iunoes hatefull foe Fye ſtepdame fye the fowler ſhame by this to thee doth grow? Why doſt thou triumph in this day? why did dame Tellus breede Such parlous bugges thy humour ranck of colour hoate to feede? A mortall womans peauiſhe ſpight doth paſſe thy rancour rough, Thou ſayſt thou cannot haue reuenge on Hercules inough Then are wee twayne y paſſe thy power the Gods may bluſhe for ſham? To ſee their mallice ouermacht by ſuch a mortall dame. Would God the ramping Lyons pawe that noyed Neme woode, Had fillde his greedy mounching Iawes with plenty of my bloude: Or while the twining ſnakes had hembde mee in by hundreds thick, Why might not Hydra ſwallow vp my wrinched body quick? Why was it not the centaures hap my ſilly fleſh to gnawe? Or that I bounde on Tantalls rocke ſhoulde gape with greedy Iawe? In vayne to catch the fleeting foode when deepe from Tartar ſoyle, Where at the Gods aggrized were, I did purloyne the ſpoyle. And from the darck infernall Styx I got agayne to light, Or Ditis dungeon all the ſtops and ſtayes I conquerde quight. Death ſhranke from mee in euery place that I a noble knight At length might ende my dayes in ſhame, and in diſhonour ſpoylde Oh Ioue the creatures terrible thou knowſt that I haue foylde The threefolde ſhapen maſtiffe curre whom vp I draggde in chayne, Hee ſtarring from the ſunnewarde could not hale mee back agayne. The ſheepherdes churliſhe rabble that aloofe in Iber hee Vnder the Spaniſhe feruent clyme coulde neuer maiſter mee. Nor ſerpents twayne that vnto mee in tender cradell creapt. Aye woe is mee that valiant death ſo oft I ouerleapt: What honour ſhall I dye withall? CH. Beholde how death and hell Cannot appaule the verteous mynde that of deſeruing well. By guiltleſſe conſcience warrant hath the death that doth him ſpoyle, Irkes not as thus of ſuch an one to take this filthy foyle. If with this torment life were loſt, his mynde ſhould much be aſde, As with vnwe ldy Gyauntes ſway hee had his body ſqueaſde. Or Titans burden with his monſters all he woulde abyde. Or wiſhe of raging Gyants rent in pieces to haue dyde, And if thy d lefull death becauſe that monſter none is left. Who may be worthy thought by whom Alcides life bee reft? But thine owne hand to doe the deede. HE. Aye me and wellaway, What Scorpion ſcrapes within my Mawe? what cralling Crab I ſay With crooking cleaze to comber mee, from ſcorching zone returnes, And boat within my boyling bones the ſeathing Marowe burnes. My Riuer whilom ranke of bloude my rotting Lunges it tawes, And teareth them in ſhattred gubs, and filthy withered flawes. And now my Gall is dryed vp my burning Lyuer glowes. The ſtewing heate hath ſtulde away the bloude, and Ioue hee knowes My vpper ſkin is ſcorcht away and thus the Cankar ſtronge Doth eate an hole that get it may my wretched Limmes amonge, And from my frying Ribs (alas) my Lyuer quite is rent. It gnawes my fleſh, deuowers all, my Carkas quite is ſpent, It ſoakes into the empty bones, and out the iuyce it ſuckes The bones by lumps drop of while it the ioyntes a ſunder pluckes My corpulent Carkes is conſumde of Hercules euery Iim Yet ſtauncheth not the feſtring ot that feedeth faſt n him O what a tingling ache it is that makes mee thus to ſmart, O bitter plague, O peſtilence that gripeth to the heart. Loe Cittes, loe what now remaynes of Hercules the great. Are theſe the armes that did with ſtripes the roaring Lyon beate? And in Nemea wood did teare him from his hary caſe Might this hand bend y bow from cloudes the Stimphall foule to chaſe? Are theſe the ſhankes that coapt the heart who ſhifting pace full oft? Did beare his braunched head ypranckt with garlond gay aloft? Was Cal e craggy cliue of theſe my feeble clowches broake? To rayſe a dam in eas that did their foamy channell choake. Had theſe armes pith the breath of Kings, of Beaſtes, and bugs to ſtop? Or might theſe ſhoulders tough the payſe of heauen vnderprop? Are theſe the luſty Lims and Neck that ſhrank not at the payſe? Are theſe handes that I agaynſt the weltring heauens did rayſe? Alas whoſe handes ſhall now perforce from hence hell Iaylo •• leade? Alas the noble courage earſt that now in mee is deade. Why call I Ioue my Father great of whom my ſtock ſhould ryſe? Why by the Thunderer make I my challenge to the ſkyes? Now, now Ampitrio is my ſter all men may it auouch. Come out thou murreyn fowle that doſt within my bowells couch. Why doſt thou thus with priuy wound my carefull Carkas foyle? What gulph vnder the frozen Clyme in ſaluage Scithian ſoyle Engendred the ? what water Hag did ſpawne thee on the ſhore? Or ſtony C lpe Rock in Spayne that borders on the Moare: O yrkſome ill, and art thou not the Serpent that doth ſting With creſt on ougly head, or els ſome other lothly thing, Or ſpronge of Hydraës bloude, or left heere by the hellick hound. Art thou no plague? and yet a plague in whom all plagues abound? What gaſtly countnaunce carieſt thou (alas) yet let me know? What kinde of miſchiefe may thou be that doſt torment mee ſo? What ſaluage ſore, or murreyn ſtraunge, or vncouth plague thou bee? With open combat face to face thou ſhould encounter mee. And not thus ranckle in my fleſh, nor ſoake into the ſap. By ſowltring heate within my bones thy boyling bane to wrap, And in the mid thereof to fry the Maroe that doth melt. My iagged ſkin is ript, and out my ſmoaky Bowells ſwelt. From burſten Paunch my ſelfe doe flea the ſkin with graſping pawſe, And from the naked boanes doe teare the mangled fleſh by flawes, I ſearched for thee through my Mawe, yet further doſt thou creepe, And feſtring farther in my fleſh haſt gnawne an hole more deepe. O miſchiefe match to Hercules, what griefe coulde make mee greete? Whēce flow theſe ſtreames of trillīg teares y down my cheekes do fleete The time hath bin no plunging pangues could cauſe our courage quaile, That neuer vſe with criſtall teares our anguiſh to bewayle. Ah, fy, I am aſhamde that I ſhould learne theſe teares to ſhed: That Hercules in weeping wiſe his griefe hath languiſhed: Who euer ſaw at any day in any time or place? All bitter brunes I bare with dry, and eake vnreky face The manhoode that ſo many ills hath maiſtred heretofore, Hath yeelded onely vnto thee, to thee thou Cankar ſore. Thou firſt of all haſt ſtraynde the teares out of my weeping eyes Thy gargle face thy viſage man that doth mee ſore aggriſe. More towgh then moſſy Rockes, more hard then Gads of ſturdy ſleele, Or roaming ſtreame of Simplegade, whereby this ſmart I feele Hath cruſht my cracking Iawes, & wronge the ſtreaming teares frō me. O wielder of the Welkin ſwifte, loe, loe the Earth doth ſee How Hercules doth weepe and wayle, and to my greater payne My Stepdame Iuno ſees the ſame, beholde, beholde agayne My Lunges doe fry, the ſcorching heate preuayleth more, and more. Whence fell this thunder Boult on mee that burnes in mee ſo ſore? C. Who ſtoupeth not whē griefe doth gal? more tough thē Aem of Thrace Whas whilom hawty Hercules, and did no more gieue place Then doth the marble axelltree, his Lims hee now doth yeelde To paynefull pangues: and on his Neck his aking heade doth wielde, And toſſing ſtill from ſide to ſide, hee bendes with hugy ſway, And oft his noble heart doth force his trilling teares to ſtay. Hercules. Alcmena. O Father wyth thy heauenly Eyes, Beholde my wretched plight, For neuer HERCVLES till nowe bid craue thy hande of might, Not when as Hydraës fruictfull heads about my Lyms were wounde, Nor when I locke in Lakes alow fought with th'inferdall hownde, Theſe hideous fiends I foylde, with kings, & tyraunts prowde likewiſe. Yet in theſe broyles I neuer lookt for ſuccour to the ſkyes. This hand did ſtill auouch the vowe, no thunder for my ſake Did glitter in the holy heauens, this day hath hid mee make Some ſuite to thee, and of my boones yet heeres the firſt and laſt, One onely Thunder boult I craue at mee O Ioue to caſt. Count mee a Giaunt of my ſelfe, I can no leſſe deuiſe, While Ioue I thought of promiſe true, I ſpaarde the ſtarry ſkies. Bee thou eyther a cruell ſier, or pity if thou haue, Yet lend thy ſonne thy help, and get the glory of my graue: Preuenting this my dreary death, of this if thou doe ſkorne, Or that thy hand abhorre the guilt, from Sicill cliue ſuborne The ſoultring Giaunts that in hand high Pindus mount can weilde, Or Oſſa that it hurlde on mee I may therewith bequielde, Braſt vp hell Gates, and let Bellone ſcourge mee with Iron rod, And let in armes encounter mee the mighty Martiall God, My brother I acknowledge him but by my ſ epdames ſide, And Pallas thou my ſiſter take, let at thy brother ſlide A thirling Darte. O ſtepdame myne with humble ſuite I craue A wounde of thee that womans hand may bring mee to my graue. Why doſt thou feede thy fury nowe as one whoſe wrath were ende And ſatiſfied? what ſeeke yee more? I ſtoupe, I yeelde, I bende. Thou ſeeſt Alcides humbly layde, where as vnto this day That euer I entreated thee, no Land, no Beaſt can ſay, Now doe I neede thy deadly wrath to rid mee of my payne, And now thy rankour is appeaſde, thy hate is quencht agayne, And thus thou ſpareſt mee my life, when as I wiſhe to dye: O Earth will none make mee the fier wherein my bones may fry? Nor reach a blade to Hercules, conuay yee all from mee? So let no country Monſters breede when I ſhall buried be, And let none wayle the loſſe of mee if 〈◊〉 more aryſe, God ſend another Hercules to ſuccour Earth and ſkyes. But as for mee on euery ſide ding out my brooſed brayne, And craſh with ſturdy ſtroke of ſtones my curſed Scull in twayne And rid my torments: wilt thou not? O worlde to mee vnkynde, And are ſo ſoone our benefits forgotten in thy mynde. Een to this bower with bugs and beaſts thou had 〈◊〉 ouer layde Had not I bin: good people cauſe his torments to beſtayde That ſuccored you: time giues you leaue to recompence my payne, If yee with death will guerden mee, I aſke none other gayne. AL. Where ſhall I wretched mother of Alcides wiſhe to bee? Where is my chylde? where is my ſonne? If ſight deceaue not mee With gaſping mouth, and panting heart loe where hee ſprawling lyes. Where as (alas) in raging heart of boyling fits hee fryes, Hee groues, all is diſpacht, deare childe let mee Alcides myne Embrace thy pining lims: with kiſſe enfoulde my armes in thyne Where are the lims? where is the neck that bare the ſkies alone? What thus hath mangled thee that all thy corps is waſte and gone? HE. I am your Hercles mother deare, whom thus yee ſee here loſt. Acknowledge mee all though God knowes I ſeeme but as a ghoſt. Why doe you turne your face away and mourning viſage mylde. Are yee aſhamde that Hercules ſhould counted bee your chylde? AL. What world hath bred this vncouth bug? what land engendred it? Or els what monſtrous miſchiefe may on thee triumphing ſit? Who iſt that conquers Hercules? HE. By treaſon of his Wyfe Thou ſeeſt how wretched Hercules do leeſe his lothed Lyfe. AL. To ouerthrow my Hercules, what treaſon hath the might? HE. That which a wrathfull Dame doth ſeeke to caſe her of her ſpight. AL. How hath this peſtilence gotten to thy Lims and bleeding bones? HE. I to a Shyrt the woman had conuayde it for the nonce. AL. Where is the Shyrt for nothing but thy naked coips I ſee? HE. The veſture by the poyſon ranke de owred is with mee. AL. And can ſuch poyſon be contriued? HE. I thinke within my guts, That hideous Hydra hiſſing Snake his ſlowghy body puts, A thouſand plagues of Lerna Poole within my Bowelles rampes: What raging deare is this that driues vp all Sicilia dampes? What E me of Hell forbids the day to paſſe the boyling one? O Ma es amid the greedy gulphes and pooles let me be throwne. What Iſter can my Carkas coole? no not the Ocean mayne Of theſe my ſtewing vapours may the raging quench agayne? (Al moyſture of my limmes in theſe my fits are fryde away) The iuyce wil ſone be ſoaked vp, what preſident of hel Let me returne from vnder grounde agayne with Ioue to dwell He ought to haue retaynd me ſtill, receiue me once agayne Into thy dungeon darke that hel may in this pickle playne Behold the man that conquerd yt, no booty bringe I will Away with me: why doſt thou quake for feare of Hercles ſtill. Set on me death coragiouſly for now I may be kilde A. Now ſtint thy tender tears that down thy checkes ſo long haue trild, And mayſter this thy mallady compell thy ſorrowes ſloupe. And ſhew that in theſe plunging panges Alcides did not droupe, And as it hath bene ca ſt thy guyſe force death and hel to ſhri ke. Her. If ougly greſted Cau aſue. In chayne of yrone linke Should bynd me as ag oning pray the greedy grype to feede Yet from myne eyes it ſhould not ſtrayne a brokē teare indeede If wandring Symplegads would me wiſh eyther rocke aſſaile, To byde the brunt of double wracke my courage would not quayle. Let Pindus tumbled be on me, houge Aemus let me haue Or Athos rocke in Thracian ſeas that breakes the weltring waue, And bode the boultes of thondring Ioue although thunweildy maſſe Of all the world ſhould fal on mee and might be brought to paſſe That Phoebus flaming apeltree ſhould burne vppon my graue No vncouth crye ſhould force the mynd of Hercles thus to raue. Let meete a thouſand ſauage beaſtes and rent me al atonce Let Stymphal oules with houling hoarſe lay ſtrokes vppon my bones Or ſcrowling bul on thother ſyde ſtrike on with head and horne Or els of other ſerpentes wilde let al my partes be orne With roring earthquakes, hougy lumpes be puffed vppon me With griping greefe let all my limmes to nothing pyned bee Although I be to pouder cruſht I wil with pacience peace In ſpite of beaſtes or bruſing blowes my ſighes and teares ſhal ſeace Alc. It is not ſonne the womans bane that in thy bones doth boile But feſtring teares and brooſing knockes of thy continual toyle The wrinches old with aking panges begin to ſmart anew. HE. O where is death where is hee now? of all that I do rew: Can any witnes what it is? let death now bend his bow A naked hand is ſtronge ynough to make mee ſtowpe ful low Let any wight in al the worlde attempt to ſet on mee I warrant him, approch let him, Ah wretched might I bee This wayward agony hath take his perfit wits away. Haue hence his tooles, and eake his ſhaftes for daunger hence co uay. His ruddy gills that glow like fier ſome miſchiefe doe pretend. To ſhrowde my ſelfe (alas) into what corner ſhall I wend? This mallady a frenſy is, this onely is the meane To conquer Hercules, why then doe I as doting quean Thus fall to teares and ſeeke to ſhrynke, may bee that hee will haue, Alcmenas hand to giue the ſtroke, to bring him to the graue. But dye he in a Murreynes name, ere I for cowarde will Such deadly penaunce bee enioynde, that on my doings ſtill, His baynous hand may vaunt it ſelfe, loe how the pangues full deepe, With ſtuggling ceaſt, doe hinde the purple vaynes with deadly ſleepe, And beating ſore lift vp and downe his faynt and panting breaſt: If I O Gods of this my noble Childe bee diſpoſſeſt: Be gracious yet, and for the worlde ſome luſty champion ſaue. Rid his annoy and let his limmes agayne theyr courage haue. Hyllus. Alcmena. Hercules. O Diſmall day, O anguiſhe, O the heaper vp of ill. Ioues Sonne is flayne, his Daughter dyes, his Nephew lyueth ſtill. Firſt by the Stepdames treaſon, is the Sonne to ruin brought. The Daughter likewyſe trapt in traynes, and thereby come to nought. What hoary head in chaunge of tunes, or teanour of his age Hath ſeene, that Fortunes frowning Face hath ſturd ſuch ſtormy rage. One dolefull day bereaueth mee (alas) of parents twayne. But leaſt I ſpeake to ſpite the Gods, I will ſomewhat refrayne. I loſt a Father, Hercules this onely I complayne. AL. O noble Impe of Hercules, (alas) my Nephew deare, That doſt of wretched Alcmens Sonne the liuely feature beare. Refrayne my chylde thy wayling woordes, this quiet ſleepe perhap Will ouercome theſe plonging fits. But loe? loe in my lap. Hee doth begin to ſtriue agayne, his fits begin a freſh. Sleepe gieuing vp the feeble ghoſt to ranckle in the fleſh. HE. What meaneth Thrachin craggy creſt to ſhew before myne eyes? Or now forſaking man am I aduaunſt aboue the ſkies. Why do the heauens prouyde for me? the father Ioue I ſee, And eake my ſtepdame Iuno dire appeaſed now with me. What heauenly harmony is this that ſoundeth in myne eare. Dame Iuno calles me ſonne in law, I ſe the pallace cleare (Of chriſtal ſkies and beaten rakes of Phoebus flaming wheele) I ſee the dumpiſh moary denne of glowming lady night Here he commaundeth darknes dim to ſhew it ſelf in ſight. What meaneth this, who is it that the heauens agaynſt me ſparres? And am I thus O father myne brought downe againe from ſtarres. Euen now Appolloës ſowltring car did fume about my face So nie I paſt the pinch of Death, lo Thrachin top in place Who brought me backe to ground agayne, beneath me earſt it lay And al the world was vnder me, thou ſmart wert worne away, Thou forceſt me confeſſe the ſame. Ah mercy, mercy now. In ſtead of farther vengeance do theſe humble wordes allow. Lo Hillus, lo thy mothers giftes ſuch preſentes ſhee preparde Ah, might my trunchion punch her puddinges once as whilom farde The haughty Ladye Amazon wel trounſed for her pride On thedge of yſy Caucaſus afront the mountayne ſyde. O noble lady Megara were thou my wretched wyfe, When rapt in rage of franticke fittes, I reſt thee of thy life Geue me my batt and bow in hand, my wreſtes I wil imbrew. And force ye all your brages on me with blemiſh blacke to rue. Thus let of Hercules exployts a woman be the laſt. Hi. Forbeare O Syre thy hateful threates, ſhe hath it, all is paſt. The vengeance that ye ſeke on her already hath her ſpedd. With wound receiued at your hand my mother lieth dead (Her. O blynded anquiſh: dye ſhe ſhould of Hercles furious hand) Thus Licas hath his marrow loſt the heate of burning breſt Wil haue me on the breathleſſe coarſe for to reuenge the reſt Why doth ſhee not yet fele her force both let her want a graue And on her curſed fleſh to feede let beaſtes her carkaſſe haue. Hil. The ſilly woman was more woe then ye that bide the ſmart. Ye wil releaſe ſome part hereof for pitty in your hart. For greefe of you with her owne hande, alas her ſelfe ſhe ſlew Thus more then ye do aſke of her, ſhe doth her doyng rewe Yet is it not your Wyfes miſdeede that brought you to this plight. No nor my mothers traytrous hand hath wrought this deepe deceit. This treaſon Neſſus did contriue whom yee did pay his hire, With arrow ſhot into his Ribs for rape of Deianire. Thus father with the Centaures bloud your ſhyrt was ſore embrewde. At Neſſus hand the vengeaunce of your deede thus haue yee rewde. HE. Hee hath his will: all is diſpacht, our Fates themſelues diſplay. This is the day of death to mee. Thus earſt to mee did ſay, A charmed Oake, and all the wood that range with yetling noyſe Of Parnaſſ hill the Temples ſhooke, and thundred out this voyce. The dead mans hand whom thou before haſt ſlayne, O Hercules ſhall murther thee agayne. Thou hauing mot the ſpace of gulph and grounde, And deapth of hell, heare ſhall thou bee confounde. I therefore doe bewayle no more, ſuch ſhould our ending bee. That Hercles conquerde after him no man aliue may ſee. Now let mee dye a manly death, a ſtout and excellent, And meete for mee: this noble day ſhall valiauntly bee ſpent. Fell all the Timber on the grounde hew down all OEta wood. Let coales deuower Hercules, let fyer fry his blould. But ere I dye thou noble Impe of Peans royall race. This dolefull duety doe for mee: See that an whole day ſpace My funerall fier flaming burne. And now my tender Hill, The laſt peticion of my mouth make vnto thee I will. Among the captiue Ladies, one there is, a noble Dame, Of royall bloud, Euritus Chylde, Iole is her name: Accept her to thy ſpouſall Bed, whom victour I vnkind Haue trayned from her natiue home and but my heart, and mynde Poore ſilly mayde I gaue her nought, and now ſhee ſhall mee loſe. Loe thus the wretched woman walles her ſtill encreaſing woes. But let her foſter that ſhe hath conceaued as Ioues ally, And childe to mee, bee't thyne by her that earſt begot haue I: And as for thee deare mother myne your dreary dole forgoe, Your Hercules ſhall liue: doe not vayne teares on him beſtowe: My manhoode made a ſtrumpet thought a Stepdame vnto thee, But if that eyther Hercles byrth ſhewe her vnſure to bee, Or be a man my ſter or els be falſified my kin. Now let Ioues 〈◊〉 ceaſe, and let my mothers ſlaunder in, I haue deſerued a father well that haue aduaunſt ſo hye The glory of the rolling heauens, of nature tramde was I. To worke the wondrous prayſe of Ioue, and Ioue him ſelfe doth Ioy, To haue the name of Hercules, begetting ſuch a boy. But pardon now my ſtrayned teares, but you as Ioue his niece. Shall as a ſtately matrone bee among the Dames of Greece. Though Iuno with the thunderer in ſpouſall chamber lyes And in her heauenly hand doth weilde the ſcepter of the ſkies, When euer bare ſhee ſuch a Babe, and yet though heauen ſhe hould In heart agaynſt a mortall man ſhe foſters mallice oulde, For ſpighte that borne of womans womb becounted thus I ſhould. Goe Tican goe, run out thy Race, thee onely I forſake. I that went with thee foote by foote nowe to th'infernall lake. And Ghoſtes, I go yet with this prayſe to'ch pit down will I paſſe That Hercules of open foe yet neuer foyled was. But hee in open combats brought his conqueſts all to paſſe. Chorus. O Titan crownd with blaſ ing buſh whoſe morning moyſtures make The Moone her foamy bridell from her tyred teame to take. Declare to'th Eaſterlinges whereas the ruddy morne doth ryſe. Declare vnto the Irishmen aloofe at weſtern Skies. Make knowne vnto the Moores annoyed by flaming axentree. Thoſe that with the yſy Wayne of Archas peſtred bee. Diſplay to theſe that Hercules to th'eternall ghoſtes is gone And to the bauling maſtriffes den from whence returneth none. With duſky dampe of filthy fog O Titan choake thy blaze, With lowring light of wanny Globe on wofull wordlings gaze, And let thy head bee muffled vp with cloudes and darkneſſe dim. For Hercles ſake, when ſhall thou finde, or where the like to him? (O wretched worlde to whom wilt thou henceforth thy woes cōplaine,) If any ſcattring peſtilence on ear h ſhall be renewde, By benom ranck, from poyſon mouth of ſcaly Dragon ſpewde: If any Bore of Arcadie ſhall comber all a wood, And teare the trauelers fleſh with tuſke embrewed in goary blood: If any champion rough of Thrace with heart more hard in breaſt, Then are the yſy rockes, where as the frozen Beare doth reſt, Shall trample thicke his ſtables fowle with bloud of ſlaughterd men, When people quake for feare of warre, who ſhall aſſiſt them then? If wrathfull Gods for vengeaunce will fo he monſters to be bread? Loe nowe enfebled all of force his Karkaſſe lyeth dead, Whom Natures moulde had made a match to thūdring Ioue in ſtrēgth. Hale out (alas) and let your playnt be hearde to townes at length. Let women beat their naked armes, and wring their trembling handes, Untruſse their hayre, and from theyr locks pluck of their binding bands. Boult vp, and lock the Temple gates of Gods, and ape bee none, But deſpret Iunoes Chapple doares. O Hercles thou art gone To Lethes lake, and ſtreame of Stix, from whence no Keele agayne Shall bring thee backe: O ſilly ſoule thou goeſt to remayne Among the griſely goblins grymme: from whence thou whilom came With triumph ſooner daunted death, and conqueſt of the ſame. With gaſtly face, and karrayne armes, and neck that yeeldes to waight, Thy ghoſt returnes, but Carons boate then ſhall not haue her fraight. As balaſed with thy onely payſe, and yet ſhalt thou not byde Among the raſcall ſprites, but ſit on bench by Eacus ſide, And with the Iudges twayne of Creete as Umpier there to bee, Appoynting paynes to ſoules that maye to their deſartes agree. Frō ſlaughter hold your guiltleſse hands, bath not your blades in bloud. Yee ſtates, that beare high ſayle on earth, and floa e in worldly good: It merits prayſe a mayden ſword vndipt in goare to beare, And while thou rayne, to keepe thy realme from cruell doings cleare. But vertue hath a pryuiledge to paſſe vnto the ſkies. To'th top of froſen Apell tree O Hercules wilt thou ryſe? Or where the ſunne with ſcorching blaze his burning beames doth reſt? Or wilt thou bee a ſhyning ſtarre amid the lukewarme weſt? Where Calpe Rocke is heard with roaring noyſe of wraſtling waue? What place amid the azur ſkye entendeſt thou to haue? What place ſhall be in all the heauens from hurley burley free? When Hercules amid the ſtarres ſhall entertayned bee? Let Ioue appoynt thy byding from the ougly Lion farre, And burning Crab leaſt thou with gryſely countnaunce do thē ſkarre. And make the trembling ſtarres in heauen for feare to breake aray And Titan quake: while ſpring doth prank with flowers y tender ſpray. Then haſty winter ſtrip the trees of all their braunches greene. Or ſudden Summer deckt with leaues in buſſhy woods be ſeene. And from the trees the Apples fall, the harueſt being doone: No age on earth ſhall wipe away the fame that thou haſt woone. As farre as Sun, or Stars can ſhyne, thy glorious name ſhall goe. Amid the botome of the Sea firſt Corne ſhall ſprout, and grow, And brackiſh Seas his waters ſalt to water freſh ſhall chaunge: And fixed ſtarre of yſy beare from Clime to Clyme ſhall raunge, And ſink into the frozen poole agaynſt his kindly ſway, Ere people ceaſe the honour of thy triumphes to diſplay: O ſoueraygne Ioue wee wretched wightes this boone of thee doe craue, No monſtrous beaſtes, no noyſome plagues, hereafter let vs haue: With bloudy champions let the earth encombred bee no more: Caſt downe the hauty ſway of Courtes: if ought annoyaunce ſore Shall cloy the earth, a champion to bee our ſhylde wee caue, Whom as an honour of the Crowne his ruefull realme may haue. (That ſtil will keepe his ſwerd from being taint with guiltleſſe bloud.) But loe what meanes this rumbling noyſe? Ioe Hercles ſter doth grone, And ſigheth for his ſonne: is it the Gods that wayle, and mone. Or is it Iunoes fearefull ſhrike, whom Hercles doth aggriſe, That ſeeing him for feare ſhee roares, and r nneth from the ſkyes. Or els did Atlas faltring feete with feeble ſturring ſtumble? And ſhrinking from his tottring waight thus force the Gods to rumble? Or ſcared he the wauling ghoſtes, the which to feare he draue? Or Cerberus braſt his gingling Chaynes with buſkling in his caue. It is not ſo: but loe where Philoctetes doth appeare, And Hercles famous ſhaftes to him bequeathed doth hee beare.
THE FIFT ACTE. Nutrix. Philoctetes. OF Hercules moſt heauy haps Good youngman make reporte How did hee beare it at his death? PH. In ſuch a chearefull ſorte As no man liues. NV. And could he with ſo ſweete and merry looke, The ſcorching panges and torments of his ending fier brooke? PH. That there was any heate at all his face did not bewray, Who prou'de that power might force al things to ſtoupe and to obay, That vnder ſonne vntamed be. NV. Where did the noble knight, Among the wraſtling waues of ſea diſplay his matchleſſe might: PH. That miſchiefe witch all only yet the worlde knew not before, Euen fier hath bin conquered as beaſtes, and monſters more Among the toyles of Hercules the fier is crept in. NV. Declare vs how the flaming force of fier coulde hee win. PH. As ſoone as hee with ſmarting hand the Oeta hill had grypte, And forthwith from ye braunched Beeche ye ſhrinking ſhade was wipte: And felled from the ſtump it lyes, a Pyne tree hard hee bendes, That crakes the clowdes, & down from ſkyes his hawty head he ſende The Rocke did totter ready for to reele, and with the ſway It tumbleth downe, a little groue withall it beares away. A ſpreading Oake of Chaon big, whoſe leaues did euer ruſh, And dimde the ſunne, and did beyonde the woode his braunches puſh. It being hewde doth crack, and eake in twayne the wedges knappes: The ſteele ſtartes back and thus the toole of Iron bides the rappes, And flyes out of the Logge, at length at roore it ſhogde and ſhooke, And falling downe full lythly the ouerthrow it tooke. Forthwith the place loſt all his light, the byrds ſcaard fro their neſt Doe foare about the cropped wood, and holes wherein to reſt, And chirping with their weary winges about the plot they flicker In euery tree the ringing ſtrokes were multiplied thicker. The holy Oakes in hugy hand the Iron Axe did feele. No timber on the ſtallen ſtocks might ſcape the hewing ſteele, Thus all the wood vpon a pile is heapt, and one by one The Logges are layde as hygh as heauen that Hercules thereon Might haue a narrow roome: his burning bones for to beſtow. On Pynetree top, and towgheſt Oake the fler begins to glowe. And on the ſtumped willowe flamth, and thus the forreſt wyde Doth make the Kill the Popler wood all Hercles blocks doth hyde. But as the puiſſaunt Lyon when his fits doe vexe him ſore, Lies wallowing on his back, and through the forreſt lowde doth rore. So fareth hee, who woulde haue thought hee had to burning gon? As one that climbs to heauen, not fier, he was to looke vpon When vp he ſtept on Oera mount and gazed on his Kill. Being layde aloft he brake the blocke, ſo heauy was hee ſtill. The ſhyues yet coulde not beare his wayght he calling for his bow Did ſay to mee, haue Philocktet, on thee I it beſtow, This ſame is it that Hydra with his ſwarming heads did know. This did fetch downe the ſtimphall foules, and all that wee haue daunt, Goe thou with this let victory, and happineſſe thee haunt, For neuer ſhall thou ſhute agaynſt thy foes with theſe but ſpeede. If at a byrde amid the clowdes thou aame ſhee dies indeede. Theſe certayne ſhaftes ſhall bring thy marke down from the azur ſky, Thys bow ſhall not deceaue thy hand, full oft I did it try, And made it meete to beare a ſhaft, and caſt his leauell dew. Thyne arrowes ſhall not fayle thyne aame if that thou nock them trew, I aſke but only this of thee, put fier to the Stack, Beſtow on mee my funerall flame to bryng me to my wrack. This knarry Club (quoth hee) the which no hand ſhell euer loſſe Shall onely with his Hercules in fier goe to loſſe, This alſo (quoth hee) ſhouldſt thou haue if thou could weild the ſame, Beſide his maiſter let it lye to help towarde the flame. And then beſide him down hee layes the Lyons vayry ſkin To burne with him: the ſhaggy caſe hid all the pyle within. The people ſobde, and none there was but ſorrow ſtraynde his teares. The mother mad for egar griefe her breaſt all bare ſhee beares, And naked downe toth Nauill ſteade diſplayes her tender teates. And languiſhing with wringed hands her naked dugges ſhee beares And cryeth out vpon the Gods on Ioue himſelfe ſhee ca es, Her ſhriking rang through all 〈◊〉 place ſo womanlike ſhee yalles Be ſtill (quoth hee) good mother: force your ſhowres of teares to ceaſe. Your dreary dole disgraceth much the death of Hercules. Wayle ſecretly vnto your ſelfe: why make ye Iuno glad, To ſe that you a weeping day with ſtore of teares haue had? (It doth her good to ſee her bawdes, to ſtand with weeping eyes.) Forbeare, forbeare your malady, tis deadly ſinne for yee, To teare the teares, and rent the wombe, that firſt did foſter me. And as he bluſtred giuing gruntes when carſt he led in chayne The hownd aboute the townes of Grece what tyme he came agayne Tryumphing ouer conquerd hel defying Plutoës might, And dreadful deſteny: ſo on the fyre he lay vpright. What conquerour euer ſat in coatch with ſuch a chereful grace? What tyrant did controll his folke by law with ſuch a face? How huſht was al thing at his death? himſelfe he could not weepe And alſo we had cleane forgot the wound of ſorrowes deepe None doth lament him at his death now were it ſhame to wayle: Alemen (whom nature ought to moue) her teares now do her fayle. And thus as yll as was the ſonne the mother ſtoode almoſt. N. But at his burning did hee not call on the heauenly hoſt, Remembring Ioue to heare his ſuite. Ph. As on in depe diſpayre He lay, and ſtaryng vp ſo rould his eyes into the ayre To ſpye if Ioue looke downe to him from any turret hye. Then with his handes diſplayd to heauen (quoth he) where ſo thou lye, And lokeſt downe to ſe thy ſonne, this ſame, this ſame is hee, Whom one day eeked with a night engendred hath to thee If Eaſt and Weſt if Scithia, and euery burning plot, That parched is with glowing glede of Phoebus fier hot Doth ſing my prayſe? and if the earth ful ſatiſfyde with peace If languiſhing and wayling woords in euery towne doe ceaſe. If none their alters do imbrew with any guiltles gore, Then Ioue let my vncaged ſpirite haue heauen for euermore. As for thinfernall dennes of death they do not me detarre? Nor ſcouling Plutoes dungeon darck, but Ioue I do abhorre. Vnto thoſe gaſtly Goblins as a ſtlly ſhade to goe. Sith I am he whoſe conquering hand gaue them their ouerthrowe. Withdraw theſe foggy clowdes of night, diſplay the glimſyng light That Hercles broyld with flying flames the Gods may haue in ſight And if thou do denye (O fyre) the ſtarres and heauen to mee To geue me them agaynſt thy will thou ſhalt conſtrayned bee, If glutting griefe do ſtop thy ſpeach, the Stygian goulphes ſet oape, Aud let mee dye, but firſt declare within the heauenly coape, That thou accepſt me as thy ſoone: this day it ſhal be wrought, That to bee rayſd aloft to ſtarres, I may be worthy thought. Thou haſt doone litle for me yet: it may be doubted well Whether Ioue did firſt beget his ſonne, or damnd him firſt to hell. And (quoth he) let my ſtepdame ſee, how wel I can abyde The ſcorching heate of burning brandes: for fyer then he cride, And ſayth to me O Philoctet in haſt vppon me throw The burning logges, why quakeſt thou? doſt daſtard thow forſlow, For feare to this wicked deede? O coward peaſant ſlaue, Thou art to weake to bende my bow, vnmeete my ſhaftes to haue What ayleſt thou to loke ſo pale? and as thou ſeeſt mee lye With cherefull looke couragiouſly do thou the fier plye. Behold me wretch that broyle and burne my father opes the Skyes And vnto me ſonne Hercules come, come away he cryes. O father Ioue (quoth he) I come: with that I waxed pale And toward him a burning beame with might and mayne I hale: But backe from him the billets flye and tumbling out they leape, And from the limmes of Hercules downe falleth all the heape. But he encrocheth on the fyre as it from him doth ſhrinke. That many mountaynes whole were ſet on fyer a man would thinke No noyſe was hard, and all was huſht, but that the fyer did hiſſe In Hercles glowing paunch when as his liuer burning is. It boyſteous gyant Typhus had amid this fire bene throwne, Theſe torments would haue ſtraind his teares & forſt him ſigh & grone. Or tough Euceladus that toſt a mountayne on his backe. But Hercles lifted vp himſelfe amid his fyres all blacke, With ſmoake beſmeard his corps halfe burnt in ſhiuers, gube & flawes, And downe the throate his gaſping breath & flames at once he drawes Then to Alemen he turnd himſelfe: O mother myne (quoth hee) Should ye ſo ſtand at Hercles death? ſhould you thus wayle for me? And thus betwene the fire and ſmoke, vpright and ſtiffe he ſtandes. And neyther ſtoupes nor leanes awrye, but moues and ſtirs his hands, With al his liuely geſtures ſtill, and thus he doth perſwade. His mother leaue the languſſhing, and mourning that ſhe made. And did encourage all his men t'encreaſe the fyre than As though he were not burning, but would burne ſome other man. The people ſtoode aſtoniſhed, and ſcant they would beleeue That fire had any force on him, or that it did him greeue. Becauſe his chereful looke had ſuch a maieſty and grace. And neuer wilde vs meue the fyre that he might burne apace, (And now when as he thought, he had endured pangues ynough,) And ſtoutly bode the brunt of death, the blocks hee doth remoue, That ſmothering lay, to make thē burne: then downward doth he ſhoue And where the ſtewing heate did chiefely ſcorch, and burne moſt hot, That way he thruſts his frying lims, and thether hath hee got. (With ſteaming countnaunce vnapaulde his mouth now doth he fill) With burning coales, his comely Bearde thē blazde about his cheekes: And now when as the ſparkling fier vnto his viſage ſeekes, The flame lickt vp his ſ •• ged hayre, and yet he did not winke: But open kept his ſtaring eyes But what is this? my thinke Alomene cometh yonder as a woefull wight forlorne, With ſighes and ſobs, and all her hayre befrounced rent, and torne. And beares the remnaunt in her Lap, of Hercules the great. Alcmena. Philoctetes. LEarne Lordings, learne to feare and dread th'unwelldy fatall force. This little duſt is all thats lef of Hercles hugy coarſe. That boyſteous Giaunt is conſumde vnto theſe aſhes ſmall O Titan what a mighty maſſe is come to nought at all. Aye me an aged womans lappe all Hercules doth ſhrowde, her lap doth ſerue him for a graue, and yet the champion prowde, With all his lumpe ſtils not the roome. Aye mee a burthen ſmall I eele of him to whom whole heauen no burthen was at all. O Hercules, beare chylde, O ſonne the ſeaſon whilom was, That thou to Tartar pits, and ſluggiſh deus aloofe didſt paſſe For to repaſſe: from deepe of hell when wilt thou come agayne? For to put loyne the ſpoyles thereof, or bring from captiue chayne To life thy friendly Theſeus. But when wilt thou returne Alone: can flaming Phelegethon thy ghoſt in torments burne: Or can the maſti •• e Dogge of hell keepe downe thy woefull ſprite? Where then might I come ſee thy ſoule and leaue this loathed light? When ſhall I rap at Tartar gate? what Iawes ſhall mee deuower? What death ſhall d wnt mee: goeſt thou to hell, and haſt no power To come agayne: alas why do I waſt, the day in teares and 〈◊〉 O wretched lyfe why doſt thou laſt thou ſhouldeſt droupe and ſaynt, And loath this dreary daye: how: can I beare to Ioue agay e Another noble Hercules, what ſonne may I obtayne So valiunt to call mee thus (Alcmena mother myne) O happy ſpouſe Ampliterio twyſe happy haſt thou bene In entring at the dennes of death, and through the noble ſonne The Deutis arthy preſentes quake to ſee thee thether come. Though thou but forged father were to Hercules of late Whether ſhall old beldam goe whom many kinges do hate: If any prince remayne with blody breaſt and murdring mynde Then woe to mee: if groning babes be any left behynd, That ſorrow for theyr parentes deathes now, now for Hercles ſake Theyr mallice let them wrecke on mee, on mee dyre vengeance take If any young Buſtris be, I feare the Perſians ſore Wil come and take me captiue hence in chaynes for euermore. If any tyrant feede his horce with gubbes of ſtraungers fleſh Now let his pampred iades vnto my Carkſſe fall a freſh. Perhap dame Iun coueteth on me to wrecke her yr . And e vs of her burning breaſt wil turne the flaming fire Her wreckful hand doth loyter now ſith Hercules is ſlayne. And now to feele her ſpurning ſpyte as harlot I remayne. My valyant ſonne is cauſe of this my wombe ſhall barrayne be, Leaſt I ſhoul beare another child as hardy as was hee. Oh whether may Alcmena goe? or whether ſhal ſhe wend? What countrey or what kingdomes may my careful hed defend Where may I couch my wretched coarſe, that euery where am knownde If I vnto my natiue ſoyle repayre among myne owne, Euriſteus is of Argoe lord thus woefully forlorne. I wil to Thebes where I was wed, and Hercules was borne: And where with Ioue I did enioy dame Venus deare delight. O bleſſed woman had I bene and in moſt happy plight, It Ioue with flaſh of lightning leams and blaſing flakes of fyre Had ſmolthred me as Semele was ſowſt at her deſyre. Would God that Hercles whyle he was a babe had rypped bene Out of my wombe, then wretchedly I ſhould not this haue ſeene The pangues and tormentes of my ſonne, whoſe prayſe doth coūteruaile Euen Ioue: then had I learnd that death at length might him aſſayle, And take him from my ſight: O child, who wil remember thee? For now vnthankfulnes is great in men of each degree: 〈◊〉 , for thy 〈◊〉 I do not know where entertaynd to bee). The word of the Cleonies I will attempt and fyre Whom from the Lyon reſc wde he and made the monſter dye, Or ſhal I too th'Archadians go where thou didſt ſle the boare Where thy renowne remaine 〈…〉 of great exploytes before, The parlous 〈◊〉 Hydra heare was ſlayue there fel he dead, That with the fleſh of ſlaughtred men his greedy horſes fedde And yondes were the Stimphall burdes compelde to leaue the ſaye And tamed by the handy toyle, now doth the Lyon frie, And belketh 〈◊〉 fumes in heauens whyle thou lieſt in thy groue O if mankynd but any ſparke of thankful nature haue Let all men prcace to ſuccour mee Alcmene thy mother deare. What if among the Thracians I venter to appeare, Or on the 〈◊〉 of Hebet floud? thy proweſſe euery where Hath ſuccoured all theſe ſoylts: for earſt in Thrace thou did put downe The fleſhy meangres of the King and put him from his crowne, By ſlaughter of the saluage printe the people liue in peace, Where diddeſt thou denye thy helpe to make tormoyling ceaſe? Vnhappy mother that I am a ſhryne where may I haue To ſhrowde thy coarſe: for all the world may ſtrine aboute thy graue What temple may be meete to ſhryne thy reliques ſafe for aye, And hallowed bones? what nations vnto the ghoſt ſhal pray? O noble ſonne what ſepulchere what hearſe may ſerue for thee? The world it ſelfe through flying flame thy fatal tombe ſhalbe: Who taketh here this payſe from me his aſhes which I beare Why loath I them? imbrace his bones keepe ſtil his aſhes here, And they ſhal be a ſhield to thee his duſt that thee defend, To ſee his ſhadow, princes prowde for feare ſhal ſtoupe and bend Ph. O mother of noble Hercules forbeare your dreary playnt: His valiant death thus ſhould not be with femal teares attaynt. Ye ſhould not languiſh thus for him, nor count him wretched man In dying, who by noble mynd preuent his deſtny can. His cheuatry forbyddeth vs with teares him to bewayle: The ſtately ſtomacke doth not ſloupe: they ſigh whoſe hartes do fayle. Alc. (Ile mone no more: behold, behold. moſt wretched mother I) Haue loſt the ſheild of land end ſead, where glittring Phoebe diſplayes With whirling wheeles in foamy gulphes, and red and purple rayes The loſſe of many ſonnes I may lament in him alone. Through him I lifted Kings to frowne, when crown my ſelfe hadnone Ayd neuer any mother liude, that neded leſſe to craue. Of Gods, then I. I aſked naught while I my ſonne might haue. What could not Hercles tender loue like on me to beſtow? What God would once den •• to 〈…〉 or what he held me froe, I was in my powre to aſke and haue. If Ioue would ought denye, My Hercules did bring to paſſe I had 〈…〉 by. What mortall mother euer bare and loſt ſo deare a ſonne? Earſt downe the cheekes of Niobe the 〈…〉 When of her deare and tender brattes ſhe wholly was hereuen, And did bewa le with ſtrayned ſighes her children ſeuen and ſeue And yet might I compare this one (my Hercles) vnto thoſe And I in him as much as ſhee in all her imp s die loſe. The mothers that are mourning dames do lacke on h d and chefe, And now Alcmene ſhalbe ſhee depriude of all releeſe, Ceaſe woeful •• thers ceaſe, if that among you any are Conſtrayne to ſhed your ſtreaming teares by force of peaſ ue care Ye Lady whom lamenting ſong of women fourmed rockes, Geue place vnto my gluttyng greefe, beat on with burning knockes Ye handes vppon my riueled breaſt, alas am I alone Enough for ſuch a funerall to languiſh and to moue, Whom al the world ſhall ſhortly neede? yet ſteech thyfeble armes To thumpe vppon thy ſounding breaſt thy griefe with boleful 〈◊〉 And in deſpyte of al the gods powre put thy woeful erye And to receiue thy flowing teares thy warry cheekes applye. Bewayle Alcmenas woful ſtate: the ſonne of Ioue bewayle, Whoſe byrth did cauſe the du ay day in kindly courſe 〈◊〉 fayle. The Eaſt compact two nightes in one: Lo, to, a greater thing Then glorious day the world hath loſt now let your forrowes ring, Yet people al whoſe lowryng lordes he draw to dennes of death Theyr blades (that reckt with guiltles 〈◊〉 ) he 〈◊〉 into the ſheath. Beſtow on hin your Chriſtall teares, which he deſerued wellt Howle out ye heauens, ye mardle ſeas, and goulphes with gronings yell. O Crete Deare darling vnto Ioue For Ioue of Hercles ro e, Ye hundred cityes beate yont armes: my ſonne, for euermore Is gone among the grieſ y ghoſtes, and ſhimmering ſhades of hell Lament for him ye woeful mightes, that here on 〈◊〉 do dwell, Hercules. Alcmen WHy Mother wayle you mee an 〈◊〉 〈…〉 ho t of hell? Or 〈…〉 of death, ſith I among 〈◊〉 Spheares doe dwell? Forbeare, forbeare, to moane for mee for vertue opened hath To mee the paſſage to the Starres: and ſet mee in the path, That guides to euerlaſting Lyfe, whence co s this dreadfull ſounde? Alc. Whence roares this thundring voyce. y doth againſt mine eares reboſid, And biddeth mee to ſhine my teares? I know it now I know, The darkſome dunge ••• daunied are, and Demies of Lakes alow. O Sonne art thou ret rnd to the from Stygian gulph agayne? And can thou twiſe of ougly death the con queſt thus obtayne? And braſt the balefull priſons twiſe, of glum and gaſtly night. Aga •• ſt 〈…〉 thus by might? May any ſcape from 〈…〉 thou stape alone? Hath hell no power to holde thy ſprite, when breath from breaſt is gone? Or els hath Pluto baalde thee out, for feare leaſt thou alone Should cloyne his Scepter from 〈◊〉 hand, & pluck him from his front? For I am ſure I ſawe thee layde vpon the burning trees: And from thy Corps the ſlame and ſparkes agaynſt the welkin flyes: That ſure thou waſt to po ldee burne, and feeble lyfe was loſt: But ſure the deepes and pits of 〈◊〉 did not lock vp thy ghoſt. Why were the deuills alrayde of thee? why quaked Ditis grim? And did thy noble ghoſt ſeeme ſuch a gaſtly bug to him? HE. The dampy 〈◊〉 of Cocitas coulde not keepe me from light. Nor Carons fuſty muſty Barge iramſported hath my ſprite, Now Myther 〈…〉 more once haue I ſeeme the 〈◊〉 of hell, And all the 〈…〉 that dwell. That mortall moulde I tooke of you to nought the flames haue fryed: Heauen hath the ſubſtaunce that I tooke of Ioue: in fier yours died. And therefore rawſe your playntius teare , which parents vſe to ſhed, When wretchedly they wayle their ſonnes, that daſtardly are dead. Thus vulgar varlets weepe: Ioe vertue hopes the Starres to get: But faynting feare 〈◊〉 on death, from heauen where I am ſet, You heare my voyce: Euriſteus now ſhal byde the deadly puſh With charyot ſway his cracked ſcull ye ſhal on ſunder cruſh Now muſt I hence aduaunce my Ghoſt vp to the rolling skyes Once more I daunt the deuilles, and do the goblins grim aggriſe Alc. But ſtay awhile my ſonne: he fades and ſhrinketh from my ſight Aduaunſt he is among the ſtarres: doth this my charmed Spirite Dote in a traunce & or do I dreame that I haue ſeene my ſonne A troubled mynd can ſcante beleue the thinges he ſeeth done. But now I ſee thou art a God poſſeſſing heauen for aye. I ſee it ſure. I wil to Thebes thy triumphes to diſplay. Chorus. LO vertue ſcapes the gaſtly ſhades of hell, Ye noble peeres that ſhyne in vertue bright Dire deſteny cannot conſtrayne you dwell Among the glowming glades of ougly might, Nor ſinke your fame in loathſome lakes of ſpyte. But when deaths day drawes on the gaſping howre, You purchaſt glory ſhall direct your right To fynd the paſſage to the heauenly bower. When fleſh doth fall, and breathing body dies Then (Fame the child of Vertue) doth ariſe. But ſluggiſh ſottes that ſleepe their dayes in ſloth, Or geue their golden age to loath ſome luſt. Them and their names the wretches bury both, When as their bones ſhall ſhryned be in duſt: The clay ſhall couer their carkaſes forlorne, As though ſuch kaytiſſes neuer had bene borne. But if that ought of memory they haue. In thafter age it ſhalbe filthy ſhame. The gnawing wormes torment not ſo in graue Their rotten fleſh, as tounges do teare their name, That dayly kild to further miſchiefe liues. Lo both the fruites, that vice and virtue giues.
FINIS. Ouid. Omne genus ſcripti grauitate Tragoedia vincit.

IMPRINTED AT LONDON IN FLETSTREATE Neare vnto Sainct Dunſtons church by Thomas Marſhe. 1581.