University of Virginia Library

Scen. V.

Enter Nuncius.
What whirlewind rising from the wombe of earth
Doth raise huge Pelion vnto Ossa's top,
That both being heapt, I stand vpon them both
And with an hundred Stentor-drowning voyce,
Relate vnto the world the saddest tale,
That euer burdned the weake iawes of man:

Ægyst.
Why, what portentuous newes? Amaze vs not,
Tell vs what e'r it be.

Nun.
Were my minde settled, would the gellid feare,
That freezeth vp my sense, set free my speech,
I would vnfold a tale which makes my heart
Throb in my intralls: when I seeme to see't.

Clyt.
Relate it quickly, hold's not in suspence.

Nun.
Vpon the mount of yonder rising cliffe,
Which the earth hath made a bulwarke for the sea,
Whose peerlesse head is from the streames so high,
That whosoe'r lookes downe, his braine will swim
With a vertigo: The space remou'd so farre
The obiect from the eye, that a tall ship
Seem'd a swift flying bird: vpon this top
Saw I two men making complaints to heauen,
One's voyce distinctly still cry'd, Father, King,
Great Agamemnon: whose diuiner soule
Fled from thy corps, exil'd by buchers hands,
His friend still sought to keepe his dying life
With words of comfort, that it should not rush
Too violently vpon the hands of Fate.
He deafe as sea, to which he made his plaints,
Still cryed out, Agamemnon, I will come,
And finde thy blessed soule where e'r it walke,
In what faire Tempe of Elisium
So e'r it be, my soule shall find it out;
With that his friend knit him within his armes,
Striuing to hold him but when twas no boot,
They hand in hand, thus plung'd into the maine.
Strait they arose, and striu'd, me thought, for life,
But swelling Neptune not regarding friends,
Wrapt their embraced limbs in following waues.
Vntill at last, their deare departing soules
Hastned to Styx, and I no more cloud see.

Stro.
O, 'twas Orestes, 'twas my Pylades,
Which arme in arme did follow him to death.

Elect.
O my Orestes, O my dearest brother
'Tis he, 'tis he that thus hath drown'd himselfe.

Ægyst.
Why, then if Agamemnon and his sonne
Haue brought their leafe of life to the full end;
I am Thyestes sonne, and the next heyre,
To sit in Argos Throne of Maiesty.
Thanks to our Alpheus sea, who as't'ad striu'd
To gratifie Ægystheus, rais'd his force,
And gathered all his waters to one place,
They might be deepe inough to drowne Orestes:
But come my Queene, let vs command a feast.
To get a kingdome, who'ld not thinke it good,
To swim vnto it through a sea of blood.