University of Virginia Library

Scena. ij.

CREON.
MENECEVS.
Oh my deare childe, well hast thou heard with eare
These weery newes, or rather wicked tales
That this deuine of thee deuined hath:
Yet will thy father neuer be thy foe,
With cruell doome thy death for to consent.

Me.
You rather ought, O father, to consent
Unto my death, since that my death may bring
Unto this towne bothe peace and victorie.
“Ne can I purchase more prayseworthy deathe
“Than for my countreys wealth to lose my breath.

Cre.
I can not prayse this witlesse will of thine.

“Me.
You know deare father, that this life of ours
“Is brittle, short, and nothing else in deede
“But tedious toyle and pangs of endlesse payne:
“And death, whose darte to some men seemes so fell,
“Brings quiet ende to this vnquiet life.
“Unto which ende who soonest doth arriue,
“Findes soonest rest of all his restlesse griefe.
“And were it so, that here on earth we felte
“No pricke of payne, nor that our flattring dayes
“Were neuer dasht by frowarde fortunes frowne,
“Yet beeing borne (as all men are) to dye,
“Were not this worthy glory and renowne,
“To yeelde the countrey soyle where I was borne,
“For so long time, so shorte a time as mine?
I can not thinke that this can be denied.
Then if to shunne this haughtie highe behest,
Mine onely cause, O father, doth you moue,
Be sure, you seeke to take from me your sonne,
The greatest honor that I can attayne:
But if your owne commoditie you moue,
So much the lesse you ought the same allowe:
For looke, how much the more you haue in Thebes,
So much the more you ought to loue the same:
Here haue you Hemone, he that in my steade
(O my deare father) may with you remaine,
So that, although you be depriued of me,
Yet shall you not be quite depriued of heires.

Cre.
I can not chuse, deare sonne, but disalowe
This thy too hastie, hote desire of death:
For if thy life thou settest all so lighte,
Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect,
Who as I drawe the more to lumpishe age,
So much more neede haue I to craue thine ayde:
Ne will I yet, with stubborne tong denye,
“That for his common weale to spende his life,
“Doth win the subiect high renoumed name.
“But howe? in armoure to defende the state,
“Not like a beast to bleede in sacrifice:
And therewithall, if any should consent
To such a death, then should the same be I,
That haue prolonged life euen long enough,
Ne many dayes haue I nowe to drawe on.
And more auaile might to the countrie come,
Deare sonne, to holde that lustie life of thine
That arte both yong and eke of courage stout,
Than may by me that feeble am and olde.
Then liue deare sonne in high prosperitie,
And giue me leaue that worthy am to dye.

Mene.
Yet worthy were not that vnworthy chaunge.

Cre.
If such a death bring glorie, giue it me,

Mene.
Not you, but me, the heauens cal to die.

Cre.
We be but one in flesh and body both.

Mene.
I father ought, so ought not you, to die.

Cre.
If thou sonne die, thinke not that I can liue:
Then let me die, and so shall he first die,
That ought to die, and yet but one shal die.

Me.
Although I, father, ought t'obey your hestes,
Yet euil were not to this yelde your wil.

Cre.
Thy wit is wylie for to worke this wo.

Me.
Oh, tender pittie moueth me thereto.

“Cre.
A beast is he, that kils himselfe with knife,
“Of pittie to preserue an others life.

“Me.
Yet wise is he, that doth obey the Gods.

Cre.
The Gods will not the death of any wight.

“Me.
Whose life they take, they giue him life also.

Cre.
But thou dost striue to take thy life thy selfe.

Me.
Nay them to obey, that will I shall not liue.

Cre.
What fault, O sonne, condemneth thee to death?

“Me.
Who liueth (father) here without a fault?

Cre.
I see no gylte in thee that death deserues.

Me.
But God it seeth that euery secrete seeth.

Cre.
Howe shoulde we knowe what is the will of God?

Me.
We knowe it then, when he reueales the same.

Cre.
As though he wonlde come doune to tell it vs.

Me.
By diuers meanes his secrets he discloseth.

Cre.
Oh, fonde is he, who thinkes to vnderstand
The mysteries of Ioue his secrete mynde:
And for to ende this controuersie here,
Loe thus I say, I will we both liue yet:
Prepare thee then, my hestes to holde and keepe,
And pull a downe that stubborne heart of thyne.

Me.
You may of me, as of your selfe dispose,
And since my life doth seeme so deare to you,
I will preserue the same to your auaile,
That I may spende it alwayes to your will.

Cre.
Then, thee behoues out of this towne to flie:
Before the bolde and blnide Tyresias
Doe publish this that is as yet vnknowne.

Me.
And where, or in what place shall I become?

Cre.
Where thou mayste be hence furthest out of sight.

Me.
You may commaunde, and I ought to obey.

Cre.
Go to the lande of Thesbeotia.

Me.
Where Dodona doth sit in sacred chaire?

Cre.
Euen there my childe.

Me.
And who shal guide my wandring steps?

Cre.
high Ioue.

Me.
Who shall giue sustenance for my reliefe?

Cre.
There will I sende thee heapes of glistring golde.

Me.
But when shall I eftesoones my father see?

Cre.
Ere long I hope: but nowe, for nowe depart,
For euery lingring let or little stay,
May purchase payne and torment both to me.

Me.
First woulde I take my conge of the Queene,
That since the day my mother lost hir life,
Hath nourisht me as if I were hir owne.

Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes.
Cre.
Oh, tarry not my deare sonne, tarry not.

Me.
Beholde father, I goe. You dames of Thebes,
Praye to almightie Ioue for my retourne,
You see howe mine vnhappie starres me driue
To go my countrie fro, and if so chaunce,
I ende in woe my pryme and lustie yeares
Before the course of Nature do them call,
Honor my death yet with your drery plaints,
And I shal eke, where so this carkas come,
Praye to the Gods that they preserue this towne.

Meneceus departeth by the gates Electræ.
CHORVS.