 | The Tragedy of Antigone, The Theban Princesse |  |
Actus Tertius.
Aemon.My feares haue brought me early to this place.
The night is young; No watches yet are set.
How sad and deepe a silence does possesse
These mourning fields! but why should that seeme strange?
Why shake I thus? Why do my coward thoughts
Tell me tis ominous? is it not night?
And who dares tread on this forbidden ground?
The Rauens, Wolues, and Vulturs heere haue fill'd
Their hungry mawes, and now are gone to rest.
What noise should I expect, vnlesse the Ghosts
Of these dead Greekes with querulous cryes should fill
The aire of night? what horrour thus inuades me?
It is because the Schreich owle cry'd about me
Passing the gates of Thebes? because to night
I haue so often stumbled on dead men?
Tut; these are toyes for children, let not feare,
That euer was a stranger to this breast,
Reigne in it now. But tis Antigone,
Into a world of danger, is the cause
Of all my feare. Oh faire Antigone,
Why art thou good? so excellently good,
To make me more then wretched? you bright starres,
That doe alternallie with Phœbus rule
And measure time, if vertue be a kinne
To heauen and you, if your faire influence
Gouerne this lower world, let not the night,
Which is your time of reigne, giue priuiledge
To murders, witchcrafts, and infernall arts,
Whilest vertue suffers, and white innocence
Is made a prey. Ile watch the fields to night;
But not be seene, till time require mine aide.
Secretly shrowded in yon Cypresse groue
Ile watch what fortunes doe attend my loue.
Exit.
Menætes, Argia.
Men.
Madam, the place is neere; the noisome aire,
Which those vnburyed carcasses exhale,
Growes stronger still, and from that feeble shine,
Which to the night halfe clouded Cynthia lends,
How large a shade the lofty Theban walls
Spread ore this field of death! those twinckling lights,
Which we from hence discerne, burne in the tower
Of Creon's cruell watch.
Arg.
Oh Thebes, a name
Once deare to me, but now a word of horrour,
And endlesse sorrow! yet giue leaue t'enterre
And leaue my heart for euermore to dwell
On thy deare ground, behold with what attendance,
What state the great Adrastus daughter comes
To claime her right at Thebes; how poore a claime
The wronged wife of Polynices makes.
Tis not thy wealth, nor Cadmus stately throne,
Nor crowne, nor septer that Argia claimes.
I craue but mourning free, but death and dust,
And such abhorred dust, as thou disdainst
To harbour louingly, bestow but what
Thou hat'st on me, and take the greatest thankes
A queene can giue; and thou beloued ghost
Of my dead Lord, if through these fields thou wander,
And loue the rites that I performe to night,
Direct me where thy wronged body lyes.
Men.
Madam this way, nearer the city walls
My Lord was slaine, & there perchance he lyes.
Exeunt.
Dircus with a Torch.
Dir.
Prince Æmon is abroad, and woe is me
Gone with too great a confidence I feare
Vpon my plot, which is defeated quite.
The watch is doubled, and more strictly kept
Then heretofore, no possiblity
To lay them all asleepe, what he entended
To worke vpon it, is quite frustrate now.
Oh could I meete him but to let him know
What has befall'n. Ile range these fields to find him.
Exit.
Arg.
Was this the sight was promis'd me at Thebes?
Are these the triumphs of my dearest Lord?
Thus to thy natiue countrey dost thou bid
Argia welcome? thus dost thou requite.
The entertainement, that kind Argos gaue
To thee a stranger? why prepar'st thou not
The Theban palace to receiue thy queene?
But why complaine I vainely? thou alas
Art held a stranger to thy natiue Thebes,
Nay more, a foe, to whom the cruell ground
Denyes that common bounty, which in death
The meanest creatures challenge at her hand.
But woe is me, t'was I that caus'd thy fall,
T'was I that moou'd my father to this warre,
And all those Græcian Princess; happy else
Mightst thou haue liu'd at Argos still with me,
And ne're set foote on this accursed ground.
Did I for this entreat those valiant Greekes
To warre with Thebes, to see my dearest Lord
Thus all deform'd with gore, trod downe in dust,
And couer'd ore with filth?
Men.
See, Madam, see
The mortall wound yet gaping on his breast.
Arg.
Was this a brothers hand? but in that name
I finde thy guilt as much; Ile rather thinke
Thou nere hadd'st any kindred, neuer brother,
Nor other name of blood, which nature meant
A name of loue. For where are all their teares?
Where hast thou kindred? none laments but I,
To me alone is Polynices dead.
Where is thy mother, and thy sisters now?
Where is that good Antigone, so fam'd
For piety, whom thou so oft would'st praise,
And tell such pleasing stories of her vertue?
Antigone with a Torch.
Ant.
About this place he lyes, deare Ghost forgiue
Thy Sisters slacknesse, and with fauour now
Accept these louing, though late rites I doe.
A Græcian Lady? (so her habit speakes her)
Some pious sorrow brings her to this place:
Lady the gods assist your piety.
Arg.
Are you a wofull widow'd Lady too,
That come to breake dire Creons sauage law?
But yet you seeme a Theban; all their bodyes
Haue rites of funerall perform'd already.
Or does your too too charitable griefe?
Extend to some vnhappy Græcian soule?
Anti.
I know not how to answer you; the man
Whose hearse I seeke, was once a Theban prince;
But since his natiue soile did proue to him
So cruell, and vnnaturall, I dare
Not call him Theban. Gentle Argos proou'd
A kinder home to him, and freely gaue
What Thebes, though due, deny'd, a princely state
With royall nuptialls; now among the soules
And still perhapps desires to bee esteem'd
One of their company, hating for euer
(Ah woe is me) the memory of Thebes.
His name was Polynices, my vnhappy,
Though dearest brother.
Arg.
Oh my heart? are you
That good Antigone, whom I so long
Haue wish'd to see?
Ant.
I am that wofull maide.
Arg.
Then see your brother my deare husbands hearse
Your griefe is mine.
Ant.
Pardon me royall sister,
Are you Argia great Adrastus daughter?
Let me adore the best of woman kinde.
Has your most faithfull vnexampled loue
Brought you so farre, and on so cruell hazards
To my dead brother? was it not enough
That first so great a princesse as your selfe
Aduanc'd a banish'd man, and freely gaue
That loue to him, which happyest princes sought?
But that his dire misfortunes euermore
Should make your vertue wretched?
Arg.
Dearest sister,
Whose knowledge I am proud, though thus, to meete,
By this true knot of euerlasting loue
Our sorrow tyes to night, I here protest,
No griefe, no losse that banishment could bring
Did mooue so much sad Polynices heart,
As parting from thy dearest company.
No name to him was halfe so deare in Thebes,
No name so often as Antigone
Antigo.
And witnesse all yee sacred deities,
Though Polynices from his natiue Thebes
Were banish'd long, yet from a sisters heart
The loue of thee could neuer be exil'd,
Nor Thebes without thy presence pleasing to me.
How oft haue I vpon Cytherons mount
Appeas'd my fathers anger toward thee?
And dost thou thus visite thy sister heere?
Oh my wrong'd brother?
Arg.
Oh my dearest Lord!
When first at Argos I beheld thy face,
It was deform'd with blood, and wounded then,
Yet then I lou'd it; fortune to my loue
Shew'd thee at first a pityed spectacle
As now at last, dearest Antigone;
My brother Tydeus met him then at Argos,
Both strangers there, before affinity
Had made them brothers, in a mutuall rage
They fought; but all the blood that then was drawne
Seem'd but a sacrament, that did confirme
Their after rare and vnexampled loue.
Anti.
Ay me, how different was in from the loue
Which heere a naturall brother shew'd to him!
Argos, how farre dost thou disgrace our Thebes
In nature and in honour!
Menæ.
Royall Ladyes,
The night growes old, and danger threatens vs.
Be speedy now: these obsequies perform'd,
You may with more security enioy
Each others mutuall loue, and then discourse
Of Thebes, and Argos; danger, and the time
Are many fragments left of funerall fire,
Where Thebans haue beene burn'd; those let vs vse,
And then retire from this vnhappy place.
Æphytus with the watch.
Æph.
VVhere didst thou see those lights?
1.
About the place
VVhere Polynices body lyes.
Æph.
If any
Haue there perform'd forbidden obsequies,
They cannot farre escape; pursue with speede;
Spare none; you know your oath, and penalty.
Æmon, and Dircus.
Æm.
The watch is vp, and with a winged speede
Pursues those lights, which my presaging soule
Tells me attend on faire Antigone.
Should what I feare prooue true, they must not seize her,
If all perswasions, promise of reward,
Nor gold preuaile not, the deare cause will lend
This arme a strength aboue mortality.
Exeunt.
Creon, Ianthus.
Cre.
The watch is diligent; they doe not know
That I am in the field.
Ian.
No sure, my Lord.
For your disguise is perfect, and no notice
VVas giuen from me at all.
Cre.
VVhat things are these?
Ian.
Witches, my Lord, that come to exercise
On these dead bodyes that bestrew the field
Their damned arts; here in the depth of night
With incantations, and abused herbes
They turne the dead's pale faces to enquire
And heare the horrid oracles of death.
Th'infernall gods ore master'd by their power,
Or else perswaded by some piety
Which pleases them, deny these witches nothing
Which they request, the soules of those dead men
Are forc'd t'obey their charmings, and returne
Backe to their ancient prisons, to reueale
To these dire haggs the secrecies of fate
And things to come.
Cre.
Ile follow them Ianthus,
And know what fortunes shall attend my reigne.
Ian.
Ah good my Lord vse not so bad a way,
You haue at hand, a nobler meanes to know
The truth of all; the old Tiresias
Taught from the wisedome of the gods aboue,
Who by a magike more diuine and pure
Surueyes the course and influence of the starrs,
And in that glorious booke reads the euent
Of future things, rather repaire to him,
Let him prepare a sacrifice, and aske
The pleasure of the gods.
Cre.
Tut tut Ianthus,
Astrolog'is vncertaine, and the gods
In mystike riddles wrap their answers vp.
Enquire of deaths blacke oracles below
In plainest terms the certaine truth shall know.
Exeunt
2. Haggs.
1.
We come too late, nor can this field
To vs a speaking prophet yeild.
The carcasses, whose cold dead tongues
From whole, and yet vnperish'd lungs,
T'wixt hell and vs should hold commerce,
And be the blacke interpreters
Of Stygian counsells to relate
The hid decrees of death and fate;
Those carcasses I say are growne
Corrupt, and rotten euery one,
Their marrow's lost, their moistur's gone,
Their Organs parched by the sunne,
That there the Ghost drawne vp from hells
Darke entrance, nought, but broken yells,
And dismall hizzings can afford,
Not one intelligible word.
2.
But from this field of slaughter I
Haue gather'd vp a treasury,
As dead mens limms wet in the raine,
Cold gelled tongues and parched braine,
The slime that on blacke knuckles lyes,
Shrunke sinnews, and congealed eyes,
Bitt from their fingers nailes ore growne,
And from young chinns pull'd springing downe.
And robb'd the vultur of her prey.
Where Thebans funerall pyles had made,
I did the mourning fire inuade,
And there blacke raggs with ashes fill'd,
And coales on which their fat distill'd,
I gather'd vp, and tooke from thence
Halfe-burnt bones, and Frankincense,
And snatch'd the fatall kindling brand
From out the weeping parents hand.
1
Once more lett's trott the fields about
To finde a fresher carcasse out.
And speake a charme that may affright
All pious loue from hence to night,
Lest we by funerall rites do loose
What Creons cruelty bestowes.
The 3 Hagge with a carcasse.
3
By Creons trembling watch I bore
This new slaine carcasse, but before
I brought him thence, I grip'd him round.
The filletts of his lungs are sound.
His vitalls all are strong and whole
To entertaine the wretched soule,
Whom forced furies must affright
Backe from hell to vs to night.
Enter Creon, Ianthus.
Cre.
You wise interpreters of fate, that looke
Of knowledge, which weake human breasts possesse.
Whose subtle eyes can penetrate the depth
Of darke Auernus secrets, and from thence
Enforce an answer from th'obeying finds.
Let me from your deepe skill be guided now
To know th'assurance of my future state:
It is a King that craues your aide, a King
Whose power has giu'n your art this furtherance,
By my command these carcasses haue lyen
Vnburied heere for you to practise on.
If Creon then deserue it at your hands,
Resolue me of my fate.
3.
You haue your wish.
This carcasse shall relate it; do not feare
To heare him speake: what herbs haue you prepar'd?
1.
I heere haue gather'd, all in one,
The poisonous gelly of the moone,
Mixt with sulphur of the night,
Libbards bane, and Aconite,
Dew gather'd, ere the morne arose,
From night-shade, henbane, Cypresse boughs.
'Mongst liuing creatures I haue sought,
And from each banefull brood haue brought
What ere could aide to our worke giue,
Skinns stript from horned snakes aliue,
The Lynxes bowells, blood of froggs,
The Schreichowles eggs, the foame of Doggs,
The wings of Batts, with Dragons eyes,
The Crowes blacke head, the stone that lyes
In Eagles nests, and pebbles round,
3.
Enough; but I to adde to these so knowne
And vulgar helps of our great art, haue gone,
And found such simples, whose concealed aide
No witch ere vs'd, or trembling god obey'd.
Thessaliaes valleys, Colchos famed shore,
Nor Libyan squallid sands with Gorgont gore
Bedew'd and sprinkled, nere produced iuice
That could so much enthrall the deityes.
When first I pluck'd them in yon gloomy vale
The furies shreik'd, and Hecate grew pale,
As loath to haue (in that abhorred ground)
The power of simples, and their weakenesse found.
2.
Then let vs now employ their powerfull helpe.
What place doe we designe for our blacke worke?
1.
There is within Cithærons hollow side
A darke, and squallid caue, where day nere peep'd,
Nor euer light, but light by magike made
Shot through that dismall aire; pale mouldy filth
Bred there by drery night orespredds the place.
The mouth of Tænarus, that balefull bound
Twixt heauen and hell, appears not halfe so blacke.
To this sad caue th'accustom'd fiends ascend,
And thinke themselues still in their proper place.
But Ghosts, that newly past Auernus lake,
Shun the ascent, and though by vs inuok'd,
Tremble to enter to that place vnknowne,
And finde a hell more horrid then their owne.
2.
Then thither let vs beare this carcasse hence.
3.
No, no, we scorne the helps of that darke place;
But make a darkenesse fit to serue our ends.
We that can force a Magike light to glide
Through closest vaults, can force in spite of day
A mist of night to rise, which all the rayes
Of burning Phœbus shall want power to scatter.
Oh would it were not night, but that the sunne
Rode in his height of strength; how proudly then
Might we performe our rites, and make it knowne,
We vse not natures darknesse but our owne.
1.
Lett's goe no further then; this place shall serue.
3.
Apply your ointments to the body, whilest I
Prepare, and speake a charme shall quickly call
Th'affrighted soule backe to his mansion.
Cre.
My ioynts beginne to tremble, and I feare
As much the meanes of knowledge, as th'euent
Of what I came to know.
Ian.
How full of blacke
And balefull horrour is this art of theirs?
Would I were well from hence; let me hereafter.
Rather remaine in endlesse ignorance
Then purchase knowledge by such meanes as these.
3.
Sad King of night, whose balefull Monarchy
The still repaired ruines of mankinde
Through euery age encrease; that greiu'st alone
To see the heauenly gods for euer free
From death's assaults, and thy subiection.
Old formlesse Chaos, thou that would'st deface
Natures whole beauty, quite disiont her fabrike,
And swallow vp in darke confusion
Of still Auernus; thou three-headed porter;
You snake-hair'd sisters, punishers of guilt,
As you would gaine our aid, or feare our threats,
Whip back againe into this vpper world
That new-fled soule, which did of late inhabite
This pale and ghastly seate, but if in vaine
On you I call, thou wretched wandering Ghost,
Not yet transported ore the burning streame,
But doom'd to exile for an hundred yeares,
If true rewards can tempt thee, once againe
Enter thy ancient prison, and in lieu
Of that short pennance, I will make thee free
(Releasing all thy tedious banishment)
Of faire Elisium; with such powerfull rites
Ile giue thee buryall, as no Magicke spells,
Nor incantations shall for euer call
Thee backe, nor trouble thine eternall rest.
Relate to Creon King of Thebes the fate
That shall attend his reigne.
Ian.
The carkasse stirrs.
Cre.
The face retaines pale death; yet seemes to liue.
The carcasse speakes.
Thy death is neare; yet ere thou dy
A great and strange calamity
Shall seize thy house, and thou in woe
Shalt thinke the fatall sisters slow
In giuing death, desiring then
Thy reignes short date had shorter beene;
Yet thou at last in death shalt haue
fals.
Cre.
Shame on your damned arts; it does not ly
Within the power of fate to worke this mischeife.
Ian.
Beleeue it not, my Lord; lett's quit the place,
And from the wise Tiresias seeke aduise,
Exeunt.
Æmon, Dircus.
Æm.
Dircus, shee's gone, and I am worse then dead,
Oh would the villaines armes had had the power
To haue dispatch'd me quickly.
Dir.
Good my Lord,
Take fairer hopes, and liue; cast not away
The Kingdomes ioy; what cruelty can touch
So sweet a vertue as Antigone?
Retire with me into yon little house;
Ile there binde vp your wounds; you bleede too fast,
And needes must faint before you reach the walls.
The wounds I tooke are scratches.
Æm.
Honest Dircus,
What cure can ere my body haue without
The presence of my soule?
Dir.
Delay not Sir.
Their goodnesse will protect them: what other Lady
Was that with her?
Æm.
It seemes it was Argia
Dead Polynices wife, Adrastus daughter,
Or else some grace or goddesse in that shape
Came to consort with good Antigone.
Dir.
Wandering about the fields to finde out you,
I met with witches, impious haggs, that came
As I suppose, for execrable ends
Oh partiall fates, oh too iniurious night,
Can these escape, when piety must suffer?
Aem.
A faintnesse seizes me, I prithee Dircus
Let me haue speedy newes.
Dir.
You shall my Lord.
When I haue drest you, Ile to court, and thence
Bring you a true and swift intelligence.
Exeunt:
Chorus Argiuarum, Deiphile.
Cho.
By what new wayes of griefe shall we
Our widow'd losses signifie?
What strange expression can become
A woe so strangely burdensome?
No howles, no shreikes, no voice of woe,
Not such as widow'd turtles shew,
Nor such as Philomel, when shee
High seated on a poplar tree,
Sends sweet sad notes through th'aire of night,
Wailing the husbandman's despite,
That reau'd her of her dearest nest.
Our losse cannot be so exprest.
No, nor by actions, such as are
The rending of disheuel'd haire,
Or beating of our breasts; these all
No more then death and funerall
Can shew; but in our husbands we
Receiue a greater iniury
Of funerall barr'd in despite.
Deiph.
Cease widowes longer in that straine
To waile, or 'gainst the fates complaine
For funerall rites; but vnderstand
Great Theseus, whose victorious hand
In conquests neuer yet has faild,
Is he, with whom we haue preuail'd
For aide; and thinke what action
He vndertakes, already done.
He will reuenge on Creon's head
The wrongs that we haue suffered.
Our deare Lords Ghosts shall righted be,
Then ioine your voyces all with me,
And in triumphant songs let vs
Renowne the noble Theseus.
Cho.
Theseus is he, whose warrelike hand
Defends mankinde in euery land
No lesse by tyrants fear'd and knowne
Then was the faire Alcmenaes sonne.
Twas he, whose iust reuenging steele
Subdu'd, and made dire Schinis feele
The selfe-same torture in his death
By which he tooke from others breath,
When trees together bowed were,
And parted thence againe, did teare
Poore wretches, but by Theseus he
Was forc'd to tast that Tragedy.
Deip.
Frocrustes that inhuman thiefe
(Monster of nature past beliefe)
Surpris'd within the woods, to bee
By an vnheard of cruell sport
Stretch'd longer out, or else cut short,
To fit their stature to his bed,
By Theseus hand was conquered,
And doomed then himselfe to dy
By the same kinde of cruelty.
Cho.
'Twas he alone that did set free
Athens from that sad slauery
Which Minos fury, for the losse
Of his belou'd Androgeos,
Had brought them to: when with clew
He scap'd the Labyrinth, and slew
Feirce Minotaurus, that had beene
The monstrous issue of the Queene
Pasiphaë, Whom vnnaturall
Prodigious lust had made to fall
Before a Bull; the monster held
Both shapes, and her soule guilt reueal'd.
Deiph.
Against a farre worse monster now
The noble Theseus armes to goe,
Inhumane Creon, that denyes
To worthiest soules due obsequyes,
And, what those monsters would not doe,
Does after death his hate pursue.
Cho.
Oh let that still victorious sword
Be now as prosperous, and afford
To wicked Creon the iust meede
That is deseru'd for such a deede.
To doubt successe in such a cause.
| The Tragedy of Antigone, The Theban Princesse | |