 | The Tragedy of Orestes |  |
Scen. IV.
Enter Pylades & Orestes, with his arme full of a dead mans bones and a Scull.Pylad.
Neare to this shady groue, where neuer light
Appeares, but when 'tis forced with som charm,
Canidia dwells, in such a dusky place,
That the night goblins feare to come too neare it,
Here let vs knocke.
Orest.
Nay, Pylades, see here,
O giue me leaue to descant on these bones:
This was my Fathers scull; but who can know
Whether it were some subiects scull, or no:
Where be these Princely eyes, commanding face,
The braue Maiesticke looke, the Kingly grace,
Wher's the imperious frowne, the Godlike smile,
The gracefull tongue, that spoke a souldiers stile?
Ha, ha, worms eate them: could no princely looke,
No line of eloquence writ in this booke,
Command, nor yet perswade the worms away!
Rebellious worms! could a King beare no sway?
Iniurious worms! what could no flesh serue,
But Kings for you? By heauen you all shall sterue:
Had I but known't; what must my father make
A feast for you? O ye deuouring creatures!
Pyla.
Now some Archilocus to helpe him make
Vengefull Iambiques, that would make these worms
To burst themselues; Passion must please
It selfe by words, griefe told it selfe doth ease.
Orest.
You cowardly bones, would you be thus vncloth'd
By little crawling wormes! by Ioue I neuer thought
My Fathers bones could e're haue beene such cowards:
O you vngratefull wormes how haue you vs'd him;
See their ingratitude: O ambitious creatures,
How they still domineere, or'e a Kings carcasse,
Pyla.
How could they thinke Orestes, when thou cam'st to the crown
That thou shouldst beare, that these should eate thy father,
Orest.
True? Pylades, should not I rend their maws,
Deuise some new tortures? O most horrible treason,
That worms should come vnto a great Kings face,
But at one stampe to kill a thousand of 'em,
And I will kill these:
Stamps vpon them.
Goe you Kings-eating creatures: I will marre
All your digestion.
Pylad.
Alas, where be his wits?
He stands declaming against senselesse worms,
And turnes more senslesse then the worms themselues;
Wher's now the oracle you should consult,
The great Magician, now the Centaurs thought
Shall be example to all future yeers,
And now transcend Proserpina's inuention,
Ha, hast thou found them out, ha, were they worms?
Orest.
O prethe laugh not at me me, call her, call her;
Pyl. knocks.
Whilst I stand gathering vp my Fathers bones,
His deare disiected bones; O, I remember, here
Ran the strong sinews, twixt his knitting ioynts,
Here to this bone was ioyn'd his Princely arme,
Here stood the hand that bare this warlike shield,
And on this little ioynt was place't the head,
That Atlas-like bare vp the weight of Greece,
Here, here betwixt these hollow yawning iaws
Stood once a tongue, which with one little word
Could haue commanded thousand souls to death:
Good hands indure this your weighty taske,
And good eyes striue not to make moyst his bones
With weeping teares:
What sin's our Procustes euer could
Haue hackt a King into such things as these;
Alas her's euery part now so deform'd,
I know not which was his, yet all was his.
Sound infernall Musique.
| The Tragedy of Orestes | |