University of Virginia Library

Actus. iiij.

Scena. j.

NVNCIVS IOCASTA.
Nuncius
commeth in by the gates Homoloides
O Sage and sober dames, O shamefast maides,
O faithfull seruants of our aged Queene,
Come leade hir forth, sith vnto hir I bring
Such secrete newes as are of great importe.
Come forthe, O Queene, surceasse thy wofull plainte,
And to my words vouchsafe a willing eare.

The Queene vvith hir traine commeth out of hir Pallace.
Ioca.
My seruant deare, doest thou yet bring me newes
Of more mishappe? ah werie wretch, alas,
How doth Eteocles? whome heretofore
In his encreasing yeares, I wonted ay
From daungerous happe with fauoure to defend,
Doth he yet liue? or hath vntimely death
In cruell fight berefte his flowring life?

Nun.
He liues (O Queene) hereof haue ye no doubte,
From such suspecte my selfe will quite you soone.

Ioca.
The vētrous Greekes haue haply tane the toune?

Nun.
The Gods forbid.

Ioca.
Our souldiers then, perchance,
Dispersed bene and yelden to the sword.

Nun.
Not so, they were at first in daunger sure,
But in the end obteined victorie.

Ioca.
Alas, what then becōmes of Polinice?
Oh canst thou tell? is he dead or aliue?

Nun.
You haue (O Queene) yet both your sonnes aliue.

Ioca.
Oh, how my harte is eased of this paine.
Well, then proceede, and briefly let me heare,
How ye repulst your proud presuming foes,
That thereby yet at least I may assuage
The swelling sorrowes in my dolefull brest,
In that the towne is hitherto preserude:
And for the rest, I trust that mightie Ioue
Will yelde vs ayde.

Nun.
No soner had your worthy valiant sonne,
Seuerde the Dukes into seauen seuerall partes,
And set them to defence of seuerall gates,
And brought in braue arraye his horssemen out,
First to encounter with their mightie foen,
And likewise pitcht, the footemen face to face
Against the footemen of their enimies,
But fiercely straight, the armies did approche,
Swarming so thicke, as couerde cleane the fielde,
When dreadfull blast of braying trumpets sounde,
Of dolefull drummes, and thundring cannon shot,
Gaue hideous signe of horrour of the fight,
Then gan the Greekes to giue their sharpe assaulte,
Then from the walls our stout couragious men,
With rolling stones, with paisse of hugie beames,
With flying dartes, with flakes of burning fire,
And deadly blowes, did beate them backe againe:
Thus striuing long, with stout and bloudie fighte,
Whereby full many thousande slaughtered were,
The hardie Greekes came vnderneath the walls,
Of whome, first Capaney (a lustie Knight)
Did scale the walls, and on the top thereof
Did vaunt himselfe, when many hundred moe,
With fierce assaultes did followe him as fast.
Then loe, the Captaines seauen bestirrde themselues,
(Whose names ye haue alreadie vnderstoode)
Some here, some there, nought dreading losse of life,
With newe reliefe to feede thee fainting breach:
And Polinice, he bended all the force
Of his whole charge, against the greatest gate,
When sodenly a flashe of lightning flame
From angrie skies strake captaine Capaney,
That there downe dead he fell, at sight whereof
The gazers one were fraught with soden feare.
The rest, that stroue to mount the walles so fast,
From ladders toppe did headlong tumble downe.
Herewith our men encouragde by good happe,
Toke hardy harts, and so repulst the Grekes.
There was Eteocles and I with him,
Who setting first those souldiers to their charge,
Ranne streight to thother gates, vnto the weake
He manly comforte gaue, vnto the bold
His lusty words encreased courage still,
In so much as th'amased Grecian king
When he did heare of Capaney his death,
Fearing thereby the Gods became his foen
Out from the trench withdrewe his wearie host.
But rashe Eteocles (presuming tootoo much
Uppon their flight) did issue out of Thebes,
And forwarde straighte with strength of chiualrie,
His flying foes couragiously pursude.
To long it were to make recompt of all
That wounded bene, or slaine, or captiue now,
The cloudy ayre was filled round aboute
With houling cries and wofull wayling plaints:
So great a slaughter (O renowmed Queene)
Before this day I thinke was neuer seene.
Thus haue we now cut of the fruitlesse hope
The Grecians had, to sacke this noble towne.
What ioyfull end will happen herevnto
Yet know I not: the gods tourne all to good.
“To conquere, lo, is doubtlesse worthy praise,
“But wisely for to vse the conquest gotte,
“Hath euer wonne immortall sound of fame.
Well, yet therewhile in this we may reioice,
Sith heauen and heauenly powers are pleased therewith.

Ioca.
This good successe was luckie sure, and such,
As for my parte I little loked for:
To saue the towne and eke to haue my sonnes
(As you report) preserued yet aliue.
But yet proceede, and further let me know
The finall ende that they agreed vpon.

Nun.
No more (O queene) let this for now suffise,
Sith hitherto your state is safe inough.

Ioca.
These words of thine, do whelme my iealous mind
With great suspecte of other mischiefes hidde.

Nun.
What would ye more, alredy being sure
That both your sonnes in safetie do remaine?

Ioca.
I long to know the rest, or good or bad.

Nun.
O let me now retourne to Eteocles,
That of my seruice greatly stands in neede.

Ioca.
Right well I see, thou doest conceale the woorst.

Nun.
Oh force me not, the good now beeing past,
To tell the yll.

Ioca.
Tell it I say, on paine of our displeasure.

Nun.
Since thus ye seeke to heare a dolefull tale,
I will no longer stay: witte ye therefore,
Your desperate sonnes togither be agreed
For to attempt a wicked enterprise,
To priuate fight they haue betroutht themselues,
Of which conflicte, the end must needes be this,
That one do liue, that other die the death.

Ioca.
Alas, alas, this did I euer feare.

Nun
Now, sith in summe I haue reuealed that,
Which you haue heard with great remorse of mind,
I will proceede, at large to tell the whole.
When your victorious sonne, with valiaunt force
Had chast his foes into their ioyning tents,
Euen there he staide, and straight at sound of trumpe
With stretched voice the herault thus proclaimde:
You princely Greekes, that hither be arriued
To spoile the fruite of these our fertile fields,
And vs to driue from this our Natiue soile,
O suffer not so many giltlesse soules
By this debate descend in Stigian lake,
For priuate cause of wicked Pollinice,
But rather let the brethren, hand to hand,
By mutuall blowes appease their furious rage,
And so to cease from sheding further bloud:
And, to the end you all might vnderstand
The profite that to euery side may fall,
Thus much my Lord thought good to profer you,
This is his will, if he be ouercome,
Then Polinice to rule this kingly realme:
If so it happe (as reason would it should)
Our rightfull prince to conquere Polinice,
That then no one of you make more adoo,
But straight to Argos Ile hast home againe.
This, thus pronounst vnto the noble Greeks,
No soner did the sound of trumpet cease,
But Polinice stept forth before the host,
And to these words this answere did he make:
O thou, (not brother) but my mortall foe,
Thy profer here hath pleased me so well,
As presently, without more long delay,
I yeld my selfe prepared to the field.
Our noble King no soner heard this vaunt,
But forth as fast he prest his princely steppes,
With eger mind, as hoouering falcon wonts
To make hir stoope, when pray appeares in sight:
At all assayes they both were brauely armed,
To eithers side his sword fast being girt,
In eithers hand was put a sturdy launce:
About Eteocles our souldiers cloong,
To comforte him, and put him then in mind,
He fought for safetie of his country soile,
And that in him consisted all their hope.
To Polinice the king Adrastus swore,
If he escaped victor from the fielde,
At his retourn he would in Greece erecte
A golden Image vnto mightie Ioue
In signe of his triumphing victorie:
But all this while seeke you (O noble queene)
To hinder this your furious sonnes attempte.
Intreat the Gods it may not take effecte,
Els must you needes ere long depriued be
Of both your sonnes, or of the one at least.

Nuntius returneth to the camp by the gates Homoloides.
IOCASTA.
ANTIGONE.
Antigone my swete daughter, come forth
Out of this house, that nought but woe retaines,
Come forth I say, not for to sing or daunce,
But to preuent (if in our powers it lie)
That thy malicious brethren (swolne with ire)
And I alas, their miserable mother,
Be not destroide by stroke of dreadfull death.

Antigone commeth out of hir mothers Pallace.
Anti.
Ah swete mother, ah my beloued mother,
Alas alas what cause doth moue ye now
From trembling voice to send such carefull cries?
What painefull pang? what griefe doth gripe you nowe?

Ioca.
O deare daughter, thy most vnhappie brethren
That sometimes lodgde within these wretched loynes
Shall die this daye, if Ioue preuent it not.

Anti.
Alas what say you? alas what do you say?
Can I (alas) endure to see him dead,
Whom I thus long haue sought to see aliue?

Ioca.
They both haue vowde (I quake alas to tell)
With trenchant blade to spill ech others blood.
O cruell Eteocles, ah ruthlesse wretch,
Of this outrage thou only art the cause,
Not Pollinice, whom thou with hatefull spight
Hast reaued first of crowne and countrie soyle,
And now doest seeke to reaue him of his life.

Ioca.
Daughter no more delay, lets go, lets go.

Anti.
Ah my sweete mother, whither shall I go?

Ioca.
With me, deere daughter, to the greekish host.

Anti.
Alas how can I go? vnles I go
In daunger of my life, or of good name?

Ioca.
Time serues not now (my welbeloued childe)
To way the losse of life or honest name,
But rather to preuent (if so we may)
That wicked deede, which only but to thinke,
Doth hale my hart out of my heauie brest.

Anti.
Come then, lets go, good mother let vs go,
But what shall we be able for to doe,
You a weake old woman forworne with yeares,
And I God knowes a silly simple mayde?

Ioca.
Our wofull wordes, our prayers & our plaintes,
Pourde out with streames of ouerflowing teares,
(Where Nature rules) may happen to preuayle,
When reason, power, and force of armes do fayle.
But if the glowing heate of boyling wrath
So furious be, as it may not relent,
Then I atwixt them both will throw my selfe,
And this my brest shall beare the deadly blowes
That otherwise should light vpon my sonnes:
So shall they shead my bloud and not their owne.
Well now deere daughter, let vs hasten hence,
For if in time we stay this raging strife,
Then haply may my life prolonged be:
If ere we come the bloudy deede be done,
Then must my ghost forsake this feeble corps:
And thou, deare childe, with dolour shalt bewaile,
Thy brothers death and mothers all at once.

Iocasta vvith Antigone, and all hir traine (excepte the Chorus) goeth tovvards the campe, by the gates Homoloydes.
CHORVS.
Who so hath felt, what feruent loue
A mother beares vnto hir tender sonnes,
She and none other sure, can comprehende
The dolefull griefe, the pangs and secret paine,
That presently doth pierce the princely brest
Of our afflicted Queene: alas, I thinke
No martyrdome might well compare with hirs.
So ofte as I recorde hir restlesse state,
Alas me thinkes I feele a shiuering feare
Flit to and fro along my flushing vaines.
Alas for ruth, that thus two brethren shoulde,
Enforce themselues to shed each others bloude.
Where is the lawes of nature nowe become?
Can fleshe of fleshe, alas, can bloude of bloude,
So far forget it selfe, as slaye it selfe?
O lowring starres, O dimme and angrie skies,
O giltie fate, such mischiefe set aside.
But if supernall powers decreed haue,
That death must be the ende of this debate,
Alas what floudes of teares shall then suffise,
To weepe and waile the neare approching death:
I meane the death of sonnes and mother both,
And with their death the ruine and decay,
Of Oedipus and all his princely race?
But loe, here Creon cōmes with carefull cheare.
Tis time that nowe I ende my iust complaint.

Creon commeth in by the gates Homoloydes.
CREON
NVNCIVS.
Although I straightly chargde my tender childe
To flie from Thebes for safegarde of hymselfe,
And that long since he parted from my sight,
Yet doe I greatly hang in lingring doubt,
Least passing through the gates, the priuie watch
Hath stayed him by some suspect of treason.
And so therewhile, the prophetes hauing skride
His hidden fate, he purchast haue the death
Which I by all meanes sought he might eschewe:
And this mischaunce so much I feare the more,
Howe much the wished conquest at the first,
Fell happily vnto the towne of Thebes.
“But wise men ought with patience to sustaine
“The sundrie haps that slipperie fortune frames.

Nuncius commeth in by the gates Electræ.
Nun.
Alas, who can direct my hastie steppes
Unto the brother of our wofull Queene?
But loe where carefully he standeth here.

Cre.
If so the minde maye dreade his owne mishap,
Then dread I much, this man that seekes me thus,
Hath brought the death of my beloued sonne.

Nun.
My Lorde, the thing you feare is very true,
Your sonne Meneceus no longer liues.

Cre.
Alas who can withstande the heauenly powers?
Well, it beseems not me, ne yet my yeares,
In bootelesse plaint to wast my wailefull teares:
Do thou recount to me his lucklesse deathe,
The order, fourme, and manner of the same.

Nun.
Your sonne (my Lorde) came to Eteocles,
And tolde him this in presence of the rest,
Renoumed King, neither your victorie,
Ne yet the safetie of this princely Realme
In armour doth consist, but in the death
Of me, of me, (O most victorious King)
So heauenly dome of mightie Ioue commaunds,
I (knowing what auayle my death should yeeld
Unto your grace, and vnto natiue land)
Might well be deemde a most vngratefull sonne
Unto this worthy towne, if I would shunne
The sharpest death to do my countrie good,
In mourning weede nowe let the vestall Nimphes,
With fauning tunes commende my faultlesse ghost
To highest heauens, while I despoyle my selfe,
That afterwarde (sith Ioue will haue it so)
To saue your liues, I may receyue my death.
Of you I craue, O curteous Citizens,
To shrine my corps in tombe of marble stone,
Whereon graue this: Meneceus here doth lie,
For countries cause that vvas content to die.
This saide, alas, he made no more a doe,
But drewe his sworde and sheathde it in his brest.

Cre.
No more, I haue inough, returne ye nowe
From whence ye came.
Nuncius retourneth by the gates Electræ.
Well, since the bloude of my beloued sonne,
Must serue to slake the wrathe of angrie Ioue,
And since his onely death must bring to Thebes
A quiet ende of hir vnquiet state,
Me thinkes good reason would, that I henceforth
Of Thebane soyle shoulde beare the kingly swaye,
Yea sure, and so I will ere it be long,
Either by right, or else by force of armes.
Of al mishap loe here the wicked broode,
My sister first espoused hath hir sonne
That slewe his sire, of whose accursed seede
Two brethren sprang, whose raging hatefull hearts,
By force of boyling yre are bolne so sore
As each do thyrst to sucke the others bloude:
But why do I sustaine the smart hereof?
Why should my bloud be spilte for others gilte?
Oh welcome were that messanger to me
That brought me word of both my nephewes deathes,
Then should it soone be sene in euery eye,
Twixt prince and prince what difference would appeare,
Then should experience shewe what griefe it is
To serue the humours of vnbridled youth.
Now will I goe for to prepare with speede
The funeralls of my yong giltlesse sonne,
The which perhaps may be accompanyed
With thobsequies of proude Eteocles.

Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes.
CHORVS.