University of Virginia Library

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 once, 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 constant 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 chiefest cares againe.

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 conceaue?
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 lift to skyes my hands, my hands from mischiefe free.
But yet the chiefest cause 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 seare.

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 woūdst my 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 ben with Cares opprest.

OED.
Least as Apollo hath foretolde, 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 beguile.

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 stay her Realmes from present confusion,
Is 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 six; that wonted on Cytheron Hills to bee.

OE.
What made thee in those woods to raūge? what hadst thou there to do?

SEN.
Upon 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 yt through your feete are borde frō whēce your name did gro.

OE.
Declare forthwith what was his name yt 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:
Obliuion for the chiefest part, doth hoary heads assayle,
And drowns their former memory of things long out of mynde.

OE.
What? canst thou know ye man by sight?

S.
Perhaps I should him finde,
And know by Face. Things ouerwhelmd 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 destny this doth hyde, and Fortune it detayne
And closely keepe, see it be so, from opening that refrayne.
That long conceald 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 search, and sift with Tooth and Nayle,
Obserue the golden meane: beware beare still an 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 pursue.
Lo Phorbas: where hee trembling coms, with comely aged hue.
To whom of all the kinges flock 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 oft, to vs appeare full 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 THIRDE SCENE.

Phorbas.
Senex. OEdipus.
Sometime a charge of sheepe I had, vnworthy though I weer.
And did vpon those bills 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, or els I sweare, thou shal 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.
No? God forbid, 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) no farther now, you know almost the troth.

OE.
Whose child was it? tell me forth wt.

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 rude. I seeme, I seeke not to withstand
Your graces minde: (most noble king.) My life is in your hand.

OED.
Tell me ye troth, what child, & whose, What was his Mothers name?

P.
Born of your wyfe.

OE.
O gaping earth deuour my body quight:
Or else thou God that ruler art of houses voyde of light,
To Hell my Soule with thunder boltes to Hell my Soule down dryue.
Where griesly Ghosts in darkenesse 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 thy filthy 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 horrors still endure, which damned soules sustain.
You citizens of Stately Thebes vex me with torments due.
Let Father, Son, and Wyfe, and all with vengeance me pursue.
Let those that for my sake alone with plagues tormented bee
Throw darts, cast stones, fling fier and flames, 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, vnto 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 mīds doth fill.
In vayn men striue their stats to kepe whē hideous 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 their 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 ye 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.