 | The Ninthe Tragedy of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, called Octauia |  |
THE FOVRTH ACTE.
THE FIRST SCENE.
Nutrix.Poppea,
From
out of spousal bower dismayd with feare,
Whither go you? what secrets daughter deare
Unknowen, 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. Cæsars wedlock are you:
Your golden grace, wherof 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.
Whither go you? what secrets daughter deare
Unknowen, 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. Cæsars wedlock are you:
Your golden grace, wherof 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 Cæsars 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.
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,
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Thy head attyrd with veyle of yellow hiew
By Cæsars 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?
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 Phœbe 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 bloud 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,
[181]
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 kist me oft,
Then rusht into my house with pace not soft
Amased Nero sore, in Chryspines breast
That hidde his faulchion kene: feare shakte of rest
From mee: I trembling stode with quiuering feare,
And brest dismayd to speake made me forbeare.
Til now (O Nurse) I met with thee, whose trust,
And fayth into these wordes haue made me brust.
Alas, what threatneth mee eche griesly spright?
What meanes of husbands bloud that doleful sight?
Nu.
The 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 downe:
The seat you saw beneath doth promise you
Your stale 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,
Unknowen to bloudy ruthful warre for aye.
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 downe:
The seat you saw beneath doth promise you
Your stale 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,
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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.
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
Uppon my foes as sodayne chaunce may fall.
O Nurse pray thou for mee some vowes do make
Toth' Gods, that ghostly feare his flight may 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.
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.
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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?
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 mend,
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.
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What sodain rage doth beat their broiling 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, subuert 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 ride, they trayle thē forth
Which spurnd wt durty feete, as though naught worth
With filthy 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,
Unlesse, 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.
Alack, 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 yt 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,
[183]
Loue, pacient can not be, but hote in rage,
No easie thing it is, his wrath t'asswage.
Achilles worthy wight, that was so stout,
To twang the Harpe he made in Ladies rout,
Prince Agamemnon sterne that boy benumd,
And rable rude of Greekes with loue bronds bumd.
King Priams raigne he topsie turuie tost,
And goodly Cities great he chiefly lost.
And now my minde sore frighted stands agast,
What Cupides furious force brings vs at last.
THE FOVRTH SCEANE.
Nero.
Ah
, ah, our captaines sloe dispatching coyle,
And our long suffring yre in such a broyle,
That streames of bloud yet do not quēch 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.
And our long suffring yre in such a broyle,
That streames of bloud yet do not quēch 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.
In 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.
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.
In 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, Prouender 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.
Ne can they once our fauour well embrace,
Nor be content, with peace in quiet state,
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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.
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.
Præfectus: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?
Præ.
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?
Præ.
Shall subiectes payne, by griefe assigned bee?
Ner.
It shall assigne which time shall neuer weare.
Præ.
Which neither wrath may end, nor yet your fear?
[184]
Shee shall appease our hie displeased minde,
Who fiyrst, our wrath deserued due to finde.
Præf.
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.
Præ.
Those words through all my lims, hath stifnesse spred,
Opprest with griesly feare:
Ner:
Us to obay.
Stands thou in doubt?
Præf.
On fayth why do you lay
So great a fault?
Ner.
Bycause thou sparedst our foe.
Præf.
Deserues a woman to be termed so?
Nero.
If treason she begin.
Præ.
Is any man
So sure, that hir accuse of treason can?
Ner.
The peoples rage:
Præf.
Those madde unweldye wights
Who order could?
Ne.
Who could stir vp their sprits?
Præ
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 condemned state to mischiefe bent
To late doth ende: away with graue aduise,
Us with entreating seeke not to entyse.
Dispatch that we commaund on shipboorde borne,
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.
A lack
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.
And dyre good will to many one,
Which, when they hoysted sayles aboue,
With pleasaunt blastes it made to grone,
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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 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
Unto 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,
Unto 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.
Unto 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,
Unto 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 nice 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?
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 nice woolde,
If that shee worke for to increase,
[185]
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 flote.
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 griesly, dreadfull drab Eryn,
Doth weld the worlde at nod and becke,
Who can lament my state, wherein
I am, alas, sufficientlie?
Now can Aedon duely playne,
My smarting streames of teares that I
Do shedde? whose wings I would be faine,
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 twirle
My heauy tuned note so bigge.
Alas I see my Brothers boate:
This is the same, whose vaulted keele,
His Mother once did set a flote.
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 griesly, dreadfull drab Eryn,
Doth weld the worlde at nod and becke,
Who can lament my state, wherein
I am, alas, sufficientlie?
Now can Aedon duely playne,
My smarting streames of teares that I
Do shedde? whose wings I would be faine,
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 twirle
My heauy tuned note so bigge.
Chor.
The mortall broode the destnies guide:
Themselues they nothing can assure,
That certainly doth stedfast bide:
VVhich our last day of life, procure,
(VVhereof we alwayes should beware,)
Much daungerous chaunces for to try:
Unto your troubled minde with care,
Now many saumples do apply,
Which your accursed court hath brought,
To bolden 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 Tyberrus daughter call,
By lawe, and eke Prince Cæsars 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 peares 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.
Themselues they nothing can assure,
That certainly doth stedfast bide:
VVhich our last day of life, procure,
(VVhereof we alwayes should beware,)
Much daungerous chaunces for to try:
Unto your troubled minde with care,
Now many saumples do apply,
Which your accursed court hath brought,
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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 Tyberrus daughter call,
By lawe, and eke Prince Cæsars 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 peares 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 dame
In male kinde babes, did hedling slyde,
Into a cruell monstrous deede,
And death sore pearcing deadly dart.
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,
What shee, that easy 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,
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,
What shee, that easy hope might haue,
Toth skies, hir raigne to rise haue made,
Prynce Neroes lusty Parent great?
First tost with shipmans boysterous force,
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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 tyme 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 Dungeon 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 withstand,
Of Iphigen to death assignde:
And close in Cloude congealed clad,
Did cary hir from smoking aares,
Which angry, cruell Uirgin had:
This Prynce also opprest with cares,
Saue from this paynefull punishment,
To Dians temple safely borne:
The barbarous Moores to rudenesse bent,
Then Prynces Courtes in Rome forlorne,
Haue farre more Cyuile curtesie:
For there doth straungers death appease
The angry Gods in heauens on hie,
But Romayne bloude, our Rome must please.
FINIS.
| The Ninthe Tragedy of Lucius Annaeus Seneca, called Octauia | |