University of Virginia Library

THE FOVRTH, AND MOST RVTHFVL TRAGEDY OF L. ANNAEVS SENECA, ENTITULED HIPPOLYTVS; translated into Englishe, by Ihon Studley.

The Speakers names.

• Hippolytus.
• Phædra.
• Nuntius.
• Chorus,
• Theseus.
• Nutrix.

THE FIRSTE ACTE.

[THE FIRST SCEANE.]

HIPPOLYTVS.
Goe raunge about the shady Woods, beset on euery side
With Nets, with Hounds, & toyles, & rūning out at randon ride
About, about, the craggy crests of high Cecropes hill,
With speedy foote about the Rockes, with coursing wander still.
That vnder Carpanetus Soyle, in Dale below doth lurke,
Whereas the Riuers running swift, their flapping waues doe worke,
And dashe against the beaten Banks of Thrias valley low,
And clamber vp the slimy cliues, besmeard with hory Snow,
(That falleth, when ye Westerne winde frō Riphes Moūts doth blow.)
Heere, heere away, let other wend, whereas with lofty head,
The Elme displayes his braunched armes, the wood to ouerspread.
Whereas the Meadowes greene doe lye, where Zephyrus most milde
Out brayes his baumy breath so sweete, to garnish vp the field
With lusty springtide flowers fresh whereas Elysus slow
Doth fleete vpon the Ysie flakes, and on the Pastures low.
Mæander sheds his stragling streame, and sheares the fruitlesse sand
With wrackfull waue: yee whom the path on Marathons left hand,
Doth lead vnto the leauened launds, whereas the heirde of beast
For Euening forrage goe to graze, and stalke vnto their rest.
The rascall Deare trip after fast, you thither take your way,
Where clottered hard Acarnan forst warme Southerne windes t'obay
Doth slake the chilling colde, vnto Hymetus Ysie cliue
To Alphids litle Uillages, now let some other dilue:
That plot where Sunion surges high doe beate the sandy bankes,
Whereas the marble Sea doth fleete with crooked compast crankes,
Unhaunted lies too long, withoutten race of any wight.
Who set agog with hunting braue, in woods doth take delyght,
Philippis him allures: her hauntes a fomy bristled Bore
That doth annoy with gastly dread the husbandmen full sore:
We know him wel: for he it is foyld with so many woundes,
But ere they do begin to ope, let slip, let slip your Houndes.
But in your leashes Syrs keepe vp your eiger Mastifs yet,
Keepe on their Collers still, that doe their galled neekes yfret:
The Spartayne Dogges eiger of pray and of couragious kynd,
That sone can single out their game, wherto they be assygnd,
Tye shorter vp within your leash: to passe tyme shall it bring,
That with the youlping noyse of houndes the hollow rockes shal ring.
Now let the Houndes goe fynd of it with Nosthrell good of sent,
And trace vnto the vglye den ere dawning day be spent.
Whyle in the dewish slabby ground the pricke of cleaze doth sticke.
One bear the toyle on combred necke, and some with nettes ful thicke
Make speede: some with the arming coatd by pensell paynted red
By sleight, and subtill guyleful feare shall make the Beastes adred:
Loke thou to pitch thy thirling dart, and thou to trye thy might,
Shall cope him with broad Boarespeare: thrust with hand both lefte & right.
Thou standing at receipt shalt chase the roused beastes amayne
With hallowing: thou with limere sharpe vndoe him beyng slayne.
Graunt good successe vnto thy mate, Virago, thou Diuyne,
That secret desartes chosen host for noble Empire thyne:
Whose thirled Dartes with leauel right do gore the Beast with Bloud
That lappes the lukewarme licour of arexis fleeting Floud.
And eke the Beast that sportes it selfe on frosen Isters strand.
The ramping Lyons eake of Geate are chased by thy hand.
And eke the wyndy heeled Hart in Candie thou dost chase.
Now with more gentle launce thou strikst the Doe that trippes apace.
To thee the Tygar fierce his diuers spotted breast doth yeeld,
The rough shaghairy Bugle turnes on thee his backe in field,
Eke saluage Buffes with braunched hornes: all thinges thy quarelles feare,
That to the needy Garamas in Affricke doth appeare.
Or els the wyld Arabian enriched by his wood,
Or what the Brutish roches of Pyrene vnderstood,
Or else what other Beastes do lurcke in wyld Hyrcanus groue,
Or else among Sarmatians in desert fieldes that roue:
If that the Ploughman come to field, that standeth in thy grace,
Into his nettes the roused beast full sure he is to chase.
No feete in sunder breake the coordes and home he bringes the Bore
In totting wayne, when as the houndes with gubs of clottered gore,
Besmeared heue their grymed snoutes: and then the Countrey rout
To Cottages repayre in rankes, with triumph all about.
Lo, Goddesse graunt vs grace: the hounds already opened haue,
I follow must the Chase: this gainer way my paynes to saue,
I take into the woods.

THE SECOND SCEANE

PHÆDRA. NVTRIX.
NV.
O Theseus wyfe, and Chylde
Of Ioue, let vyce be soone out of thine honest breast exilde:
And quench the raging heat: to dire dispayre doe not vp yeeld,
Who at the first repulseth loue, is safe and winnes the field,
Who doth by flattring fancy fonde feede on his vitious vayne,
To late doth grudge agaynst the yoake which earst hee did sustayne:
Nor yet doe I forget how hard, and voyde of reason cleane:
A Princes stately stomacke yeeldes vnto the golden meane:

PH.
That ende I will accept, whereto by Fortune I can leade
The neighbors weale great comfort brings vnto the horie heade.

NV.
The first redresse is to withstand, not willingly to slide,
The second is to haue the fault by meane and measure tride:
O wicked wretch what wilt thou doe? why dost thou burden more
The stayned stocke and dost excell thy mothers fault afore?
More haynous is thy guilt than yet thy mothers Monster was:
For monsters mayst thou thinke are brought by destiny to passe:
But let the cause of sinne, to blame of maners lewde redounde:
And if bicause thy husband doth, not breath aboue the grounde.
Thou thinkst thou mayst defend thy fault, and make thy matter good
And free from feare: thou arte beguilde, yet thinke the Stygian flood
In griesly gaping gulfe for aye hath drenched Theseus deepe,
But yet thy Syre, whose kingdomes large the Seas at will do keepe:
Whose dredfull doome pronounceth panges, and due deserued payne,
Two hundreth wayling soules at once. Will he thinkst thou maintayne
So haynous crime to couche? the care of tender Parents breast
Full wise, and wary is to bring their children to the best.
Yet shall we thinke by subtill meanem, by craft and diuelish guile,
In hugger mugger close to keepe our trechery so vile.
What shall thy mothers father Phœbe, whose beames so blasing bright,
With fiery gleede on euery thing, doth shed his golden light?
Or Ioue the Grandsire great of Gods that all the world doth shake,
And brandisheth with flaming Fist, his fiery lightnings flake:
That Vulcane doth in Fornace hoate, of dusky Ætna make
Thinkst thou thys may be brought to passe, so haynous crime to hide?
Among thy Grandsire all that haue eche priuy thing espide?
But though the fauor of the Gods conceale the second time
Thy lothsome lust (vnworthy name) and to thy baudy crime,
Sure faythfulnesse annexed be, that euer barred was.
Ech great offence, what will this worke? a present plague, alas
Suspicionlest the guilty night bewray thy deede vniust:
And conscience burdned sore with sinne that doth it selfe mistrust.
Some haue commit offence full safe from any bitter blame,
But none without the stinging pricks of conscience did the same:
Asswage the boyling flames of this thy lewde vngratious loue,
Such monstrous mischiefe horrible from modest minde remoue.
Which neuer did Barbarian commit vnto this day,
No not the Gadding Gothes that vp and downe the fyeldes do stray:
Nor craggy crested Taurus mount whose hoary and frosty face
With numming cold abandons all inhabitors the place.
Nor yet the scattered Scithian, thy mother haue in mynd,
And feare this forrayne venery, so straunge agaynst thy kind:
The Fathers wedlocke with the sonnes thou seekst to be defylde,
And to conceiue in wicked womb a Bastard Mungrell Child:
Go too, and turne thy Nature to the flame of burning breast.
Why yet do Monsters cease? why is thy Brothers caue in reast.
That Mynotaurus hideous hole and vgly couching den
Without an other greedy fyend to mounch vp flesh of men?
Mishapen, lothly monsters borne so oft the world shall heare,
So oft rebels agaynst her selfe confused Nature deare,
As loue entangles Nimphes of Crete.

Ph.
I know the truth ye teach
O Nurce, but fury forceth mee at worser thinges to reach:
My mynd euen wittingly to vyce falles forward prone and bent
To holesome counsell backe agayne in vayne it doth relente:
As when the Norman tugges and toyles to bring the fraighted Barke
Agaynst the striuing streame, in vayne he loseth al his carke
And downe the shallow streame perforce the Shyp doth hedlong yeeld,
Where reason preaseth forth, there fighting fury winnes the field,
And beares the swinging sway, and cranke Cupidoes puissant might
Tryumpheth ouer all my breast this flighty winged wight
And puissant potestate throughout the world doth heare the stroke,
And with vnquenched flames doth force Ioues kindled breast to smoake,
The Battelbeaten Mars hath felt these bitter burning brandes,
And eke the God hath tasted these whose feruent fierye handes,
The thumping thunder bouncing boltes three forked wyse doth frame,
And he that euer busied is about the furious flame,
In smoltring Fornace raging hoat on dusky top so hie,
Of foggye Aetna mount: and with such slender heat doth frie,
And Phœbe himselfe that weldes his dart vpon his twanging string,
With aymed shaft directlie driuen the wimpled Ladde doth sting.
With powre he scoures along the Earth and Marble Skye amayne.
Lust fauoring folly filthily did falsely forge and fanne
Loue for a God: and that he might hys freedome more attayne.
Ascribes the name of fayned God to shittel bedlame rage.
Erycina about the world doth send her rouing page,
Who glyding through the Azure skies with slender ioynted arme
His perlous weapons weildes at will, and working grieuous harme.
Of bones and stature beyng least great might he doth display
Upon the Gods, compelling them to crouch and him obay.
Some Brainsicke head did attribute these thinges vnto himselfe,
And Venus Godhead with the bow of Cupid litle elfe.
Who cockred is, tryumphing much in fauning fortunes lap.
And flotes in welth, or seekes and sues for thinges that seldome hap,
Lust (mighty fortunes mischeous mate) assaulteth straight his breast,
His tooth contempneth wonted fare and victuals homly drest.
Nor hansome houses pleaseth him, why doth this plague refuse.
The simple sort, and to annoy doth stately bowers chuse?
How haps it matrimony pure to byde in Cottage base?
And honest loue in middle sort of men doth purchase place?
And thinges that be of meane estate themselues restraine ful well,
But they that wallow in their luste whose stately stomackes swell,
Puft vp and bolstred bigge with trust of Kingly scepter proude
Do greater matters enterprise then may be well alowde.
Hee that is able much to do, of powre wil also bee
To do these thinges he cannot doe. Now Lady dost thou see
What thinges do thee beseeme thus stald on stately throne on hie?
Mistrust the scepter of thy spouse returning by and by.

Ph.
In me I beare a violent and mighty payse of loue,
And no mans comming home againe to terrour may we moue.
He neuer stepped backe agayne, the welkin skie to touch,
That swallowed once and sunke in gulfe and glummy caue did couch
Shut vp shimering shade for ay.

Nu.
Yet do not thou suppose,
Though dreadful Ditis lock with barres, and bolt his dongeon close:
And though the hideous hellicke hounde do watch the griesly gates.
Not Theseus alone shal haue his passages stopt by fates,

Ph.
Perhaps he pardon wil the cryme of loues procuring heate

Nu.
Nay churlishly hee would of old his honest wyfe entreate.
Antiope his bobbing buffets felt and heauy cuffe:
Suppose, yet thou can qualifye thy husbandes raging ruffe:
Yet who can moue Hippolytus most stony stubborne mynd?
He wil abhorre the very name detesting woman kind,
And faring frantickly, wil gyue himselfe to single life,
And shunne the hated spousall bedde of euery marride wife,
Then shal ye playnly vnderstand his brutish Scithian blood

Ph.
To follow him euen through the hilles, the Forrest thycke & wood,
That keepes among the clottred cliues besmeard with siluer Snow,
Whose nimble heeles on craggy rockes are frisking to and froe:
I wysh.

Nu.
He wil resist and not be dalyed with nor coyd,
Nor chaunge his chast estate, for lyfe of chastity deuoyd,
And turne perhaps his cankred hate to light on thee alone,
That now he beares to all.

Ph.
wil not he moued be with mone?

Nu.
Stark wilde he is,

Ph.
and I haue learnd wilde thinges by loue to tame

Nu
Hee'le runne away.

Ph.
if by the Seas he flie, I on the same
Will follow him.

Nu.
Remember then thy father may thee take.

Ph.
I may remember myne offence, my mother eake will slake.

Nu.
Detesting womankinde, he driues and courseth them away.

Ph.
No strūpets bashful feare agaynst my breast doth hold at bay:

Nu.
Thy husband wil be here.

Ph.
Iwis he comes I warrant him
Pyrothous companion in hellicke dungeon dimme.

Nu.
Thy Father also he wil come,

Ph.
A gentle hearted Syre
Forgeuing Ariadnes fault, when she did him require.

Nu.
For these my siluer shining lockes of horie drouping age,
And breast beduld with cloying cares restrayne thy furious rage.
I humbly thee beseech euen by these tender tears of myne,
Succor thy selfe, much health it is, if will to health encline.

Ph.
Not euery iote of honesty exiled is my breast,
I yeeld me Nurse, loue that denies thus vnder rule to rest
In quietnes, let him, let him perforce be battered downe.
I wil not let my fleeting fame and glorious bright renoume
With stayne to be dishonoured, this onely is the gap,
To shunne the perlous path that leades to vices trayning trap.
My spouse let mee ensue with death this sinue I shall subuert.

Nu.
Deare daughter slake the ramping rage of thy vnruly heart.
Plucke downe thy stomacke stout, for this I iudge thee worthy breath,
In that thou dost confesse thy selfe to haue deserued death.

Ph.
Candemde I am to die, what kind of death now would I know,
As eyther strangled with a rope shal I my life forgoe?
Or runne vppon a bloudy blade, with gory wound to dye?
Or topsie turuy headlong hurld downe Pallas turret hie,
In quarrel iust of Chastity.

Nu.
Now strengthen we our hand,
Alas shal not my feble age thy despret death withstand,
Forbeare the sway of furye fierce.

Ph.
No reason can restrayne
Him that desireth death, when death he hath determind playne
And ought to die,

Nut.
Sweete Lady myne (thou comfort of my age
And feeble yeares) if in thy breast preuayles such mighty rage
Haue not regard what sounding blast in trompe of fame be blowne
Whereby thy name in stayned stock of blacke reproch be sowne,
Or graft in spotlesse honesty: for fame doth fauour small
The most vpright, to better worse, to worse shee's best of al,
Let vs assay the froward mynd of yonder stubborne Child
It is my part to set vppon the clubbish youngman wilde
And to compell the sturdy lad with stony hart to yeeld.

Chorus.

O goddesse great that art the wondrous seede
Of frothie surge in stormy raging seas
Whō flamy Cupid armd with scorching gleed,
And Shaftes, to call his Mother it doth please:
This wanton Elfe forth putting sappy might
From stedfast Bowe how surely doth he throwe
His venimd shaftes, through all thy marrow right
The foystring fyre doth rankle in and glovve
The secret flame that boyleth in each vayne
The strype layd on shevves not in open marke:
But invvard marrovv he sucketh out amayne,
This boy to sound of peace doth neuer harke.
His scattered shaftes ful nimble euery vvhere
He dartes aboute, the East that doth behold
The davvning sunne himselfe aloft to reare,
From purple bed, and vvhether late he rold.
With ruddy lamp, in Westerne wade doth glyde:
If any coast lye vnder scorching clavves
Of burning Crab, or people do abyde,
Beneath the clyme of lsy frosen pavves,
Of ougly gargle faced bigger Beare,
That vvandring still from place to place doth goe
The feruent Fumes, and stouing heate eche vvhere
That issues out from CVPIDS burning bow,
The flashing flames of Yongmens burning brest,
Hee stirreth vp, enkindling new the heate
Of quenched coales, that vvonted vvas to rest
In drouping age: and virgins hearts doe beate
Wyth straunge vntasted brandes: and doth compell
The Gods descending downe from starry Sky,
Wyth counterfeited Vysages, to dwell
Vpon the Earth to blinde the Louers Eye.
Sir PHOEBVS vvhilome forst in Thessail Land
To Sheepeherds state ADMETVS Heirdes did driue,
His mourning Harp depriude of heauenly Hand
With ordred Pipe his Bullockes did reuiue.
Euen hee that trayles the dusky riding rack,
And wieldes the swaying Poles with swinging swift
How oft did hee faynde fourmes put on his back
And heauenly Face with baser countenaunce shift.
Sometime a Byrde with siluer shining wings,
He fluttering flusht, and languishing the death
With sweete melodious tuned voyce hee sings,
When silly Cygnus gaue vp gasping breath.
Sometime also wyth curled forhead grim
A dallying Bull, he bent his stouping backe
To maydens sport, through deepest Seas to swim
Whyle horny houe made shift like Ore slacke
Through waters wyld his brothers perlous cost
Wyth forward glauncing breast the stream he brake,
And least he should his tender pray haue lost,
Her troublus thought did cause his heart to quake
DIANA bright that swayes in circle murke,
Of darkened Sky, with frying fits did burne,
And leauing of the Euening watch her worke
Her fulgent Chariot bright. eke did shee turne.
To PHOEBVS charge, to weelde it otherwise
Her Euening Wayne APOLLO learnde to guide,
And take his turne in lesser compast sise:
The dāpish nights vvatcht not their vvonted tyde
And late it vvas ere that AVRORA fayre
Set forth the morning Sunne vvith golde aray,
Whyle that the Marble axell tree in th'ayre
The shogging Carte made crake vvith swagging sway,
ALCMENAS boystrous Impe did lay aside
His clattering shafts, and also did refuse
To vveare the ramping Lyons hairy Hyde
And Emraudes for his fingers did hee chuse,
And brayded kept his rufled staring Locks,
Ware Garters vvrought on knee vvith seames of Golde
And on his feete his durty dabled Socks,
And vvith the hand vvhere vvhilome hee did holde
His Clubbish bat, a thred hee nimbly spun:
Both Persia and fertile Lidia knew
(Where golden sanded Pactolus doth run)
ALCYDES bid the Lyons case adew
And thunderpropping brawny shoulderd sier
That heaued and bolstred vp the Welkin throne,
In slender Kirtell vvrought by Web of Tyre
Did iet about to please his Loue alone.
This flame (beleue the heart that feeles the vvound)
Enspirde vvith holines excels in might,
Whereas the Land by Seas embraced round,
Where twinkling Starres doe start in Welkin bright
This peeuish Elfe the Conntreyes all doth keepe,
Whose quarrels sting the Marble faced rout
Of vvater Nimphes, that vvith the Waters deepe
The brand that burnes in breast cannot quench out,
The flying fowle doth feele the foystring flames.
What cruell Skirmish doe the Heyffers make?
Prickt vp by lust that nice Dame UENVS frames
In furious sorte for all the Cattels sake?
If fearefull Hearts their Hindes doe once mistrust,
In loue disloyall then gladly dare they fight,
And bellowings out, they bray to vvitnesse iust
Their angry moode, conceyu'de in irefull spright.
The paynted coast of India then doth hate
The spotty Hyded Tygar, then the Bore
Doth vvhet his Tuskes to combat for his mate,
And fomes at mouth: the ramping Lyons rore
And shake their Manes, when CVPIDS corsies moue
Wyth grunts and grones the howling frythes doe murn
The Dolphin of the raging Sea doth loue:
The Elephants by CVPIDS blaze doe burn:
Dame nature all doth challeng as her owne,
And nothing is that can escape her lawes:
The rage of wrath is quencht and ouerthrowne,
When as it pleaseth Loue to bid them pawes:
Blacke hate that rusting frets in cankred breast,
And all olde grudge is dasht by burning loue.
What shall I make discourse more of the rest
Stout Stepdames doth this gripe to mercy moue.

THE SECOND ACTE.

PHÆDRA. NVTRIX, HIPPOLYTVS.
NV.
To cure this puissant breach of illes no hope there is in vs:
Nor yet to quench his flashing flame: his furies fretting ire,
Doth fry in secret boyling breast, and though the smothrering fire
Be couerte close, yet bursting forth in welked face it fryes:
The sparkling flakes doe glowing flash from bloudred rowling eyes
She hanging downe her pouched groyne, abhors the lothsome light,
Her skittish wits and wayward minde can fancy nothing right:
Her faltring legs doe fayle her now, downe squatting on the ground
With sprauling lims her shittell griefe doth cast her in a swound:
Now scant shee on her lithy necke holdes vp her giddy hed,
Nor can commit her selfe to couche in rest vpon her bed.
Nor harbring quietnes in heart wyth drery dewle and plaint
She languisheth through out the night, and now her body faynt
She biddes them vp to lift: and now her downe agayne to lay,
And now hir crispen locks vndone abroade shee biddes display:
And strayt to wrap them vp agayne. Thus fickle fansie still
Doth fleete, nor is contented with his wayward wandring will.
No care she casteth on her health nor eates one crum of breade,
With feeble fumbling foote vpon the floore eke doth she treade,
Her strength alas is quight consumde, her fauor sweere doth faynt?
Nor ruddy sanguine purple deye her cherry checkes doth paynt:
Wyth greedy gripes of gnawing griefe her pinched limmes doe pyne:
Her foltring legs doe stagger now: the glosse of beauty fyne
In body Alabaster bright is shronke away and wast
Those Cristall Eyes that wonted were resemblance cleare to cast
Of radiant Phœbus gold arayes, now nothing gentry shyne:
Nor beare a sparke of Phœbus bright her fathers beams deuyne:
The trickling teares fril down her chekes, dew dampish dropping still,
Doth wet her watrye plantes, as on the toppe of Taurus hill
The watry snowes with lukewarme shoures to moisture turnd do drop
But lo the Princes pallace is set open in the top:
She lying downe vpon her golden bed of high estate
Hurles of hir wonted royal robes which wounded hart doth hate:

Ph.
Maydes, haue our purple garmentes hence, & vestures wrought wt gold,
These crimsō robes of scarlet red let not myne eyes behold.
And damaske weedes, wheron the Seres embrauder braunches braue,
Whose Silken substaunce gatherd of their trees aloofe they haue,
My bosome shalbe swadled in with cuttied gaberdine,
No golden coller on my necke nor Indian iewels fyne,
The precious pearles so whyte shal hang no more now at myne eares,
Nor sweete perfumes of Siria shal poulder more my heares.
My flaryng ruffled lockes shal dagling hang my necke aboute
And shoulder poyntes: then then apace it shattring in and out.
Let wyndes euen blow it where it list, in left hand wil I take
A quiuer of shaftes, and in my right a Boorespere wil I shake,
To cruell child Hippolitus such one his mother was,
As fleeting from the frosen Seas those countrey costes did passe,
And braue her hierdes that bet with trampling feete Th'Athenian soyle
Or like the trull of Tauais, Or like her wil I toyle,
Of Meotis that on a knot wounde vp her crispen lockes:
Thus wil I trot with moonelike targe among the wodes and rockes.

Nu.
Leaue of thy bitter languishing vnto the silie sort
(That walter thus in waues of woe) griefe giues not resting port
Is any measure to be found in thy tormenting fire:
Some grace at wyld Dianaes hand with sacrifyce require.
O Goddesse greate of Woods, in hilles that onely setst thy throne,
And Goddes that of the craggy clyūes at worshipped alone,
Thy wrathful threatninges on vs all now turne to better plight
O Goddesse that in forrestes wyld and groues obtaynest might,
O shyning lampe of heauen, and thou the Diamon of the Night,
O threefold shapen Heccate that on the world his face
Dost render light with torch by turnes, vouchsafe to graūt thy grace
To further this our enterprise and helpe our piteous case,
O mollify Hippolytus his stubborne hardned hart,
And let him learne the pangues of loue and tast like bitter smart:
And yeeld his light allured eares: entreate his brutish breast,
And chaunge his mynd, in Venus boundes compel him once to rest.
So froward and vntoward now so crabbed curst and mad:
So shalt thou be with blandishing and smyling countnaunce clad.
Thy shimering clowde cleane fading hence then brightly shalt thou bear
And glisteryng hornes, then whyle by night vpon the whirling sphere,
Thy cloudy heeled steedes thou guydes, the raging witches charme
Of Thessal, shal not draw thee from the heauens nor do thy harme
No Shepherd purchase shal renoume. Thou comst at our request:
Now fauour dost thou graunt vnto the prayers of our Breast:
I do espye him worshipping the solemne Sacrifyce,
Both place and tyme conuenient by Fortune both arise:
We must go craftely to worke for feare we quaking stand,
Ful hard it is the buysy charge of guylt to take in hand:
But who of Princes standes in awe, let him defye all right,
Cast of the care of honesty from mind exiled quight,
A man vnfit is for the hest of King a bashful wight.

Hip.
O Nurse, how chaūce thy limping limmes do crepe into this place?
With blubbred Cheekes, & leaden lookes with sad and mourning face?
Doth yet my Father Theseus with health enioy his life?
Doth Phædra yet enioy her health my stepdam and his wyfe.

Nu.
Forgoe these feares, and gently come thy blessed hap to take,
For care constrayneth me to mourne with sorrow for thy sake,
That hurtfully thou looudes thy selfe with pangues of plūging payne:
Let him rubbe on in misery whom destny doth constrayne:
But if that any yeld himselfe to waues of wilful woe,
And doth torment himselfe, deserues his weale for to forgoe
The which he knowes not how to vse: tush, be not so demure,
Consideryng how thy yeares do runne, take part of sport and play,
Let mirry Bacchus cause thee cast these clogging cares away,
And reape the fruite of sweete delyght belonging to thy yeares,
For lusty youth with speedy foote ful fast away it weares.
Earst tender loue, earst Venus feedes the young monnes appetite,
Be blyth my Boy, why Widow like liest thou alone by night?
Shake of thy sollem sadnesse man that harty youth doth spill:
Huff, royst it out couragiously, take bridle at thy will.
Let not the flowre of blooming yeares all fruitles fade away.
God poynteth euery tyme his taske, and feades in due aray
Each age by order iust, as mirth the sappy youthfull yeares,
A forehed frayte with grauity becommeth hoary hayres.
Why dost thou bridle thus thy selfe, and dulles thy pregnant wit?
The corne that did but lately sproute aboue the ground, if it
Be rancke of roote, yet in the huske, with enterest at large
Unto the hoping husbandman shall trauel all discharge.
With braunched bough aboue the Wood the tree shall raise his top,
Whom rusty hand of canckred hate, did neuer spill nor lop.
The pregnant Wittes are euermore more prone to purchase prayse,
If noble heartes by freedome franckt be nourisht from decayes.
Thou churlish countrey Clowne Hodgelike not knowing Courtly life,
Delight in drousy doting youth without a louing wyfe.
Dost thou suppose that to this end Dame Nature did vs frame,
To suffer hardnes in this world and to abyde the same?
With courses and kerereyes fet the prauncing Steedes to tame?
Or bicker els with battails fierce, and broyls of bloudy warre?
That soueraygne Syre of heauen and earth, when fates do vs detarre,
With signes and plagues prognosticate prouided hath with heede,
For to repayre the damage done with new begotten seede.
Go to, let bedding in the world be vsed once no more
(That stil mankind from age to age vpholdes and doth restore)
The filthy world deformd would lie in yrksome vgly stay,
No floting ships on wambling Seas should hoysted Sayles display.
No Foule should skoare in azur Skie, ne Beast to woods repayre,
And onely whisking windes should whirle amid the empty ayre.
What diuers dreery deathes driue one mankind to dumpish graue?
The Seas, the sword and trayterous traynes whole countries wasted haue:
Yet for to limit forth our league there is no destny thincke,
So downe to blackefast Stigian dampes we of our selues do sincke.
Let youth that neuer felt the ioyes, in Venus lap which lie,
Alow the solitary life, what euer thou espye,
An hurliburly shall become for tearme of one mans life.
And worke it one destruction by mutuall hate and strife.
Now therfore follow natures course, of life the soueraygne guyde,
Resort vnto the towne: with men delight thee to abyde.

Hip.
No life is more deuoyd of sinne, and free from grieuous thralles,
And keeping fashions old, then that which leauing Townish walles,
Doth take delight in pleasant Woods, he is not set on fyre,
Enraged sore with burning Byle of couetous desyre.
Who hath addict himselfe among the mountaynes wilde to liue,
Not prickt with pratling peoples bruite, no credit doth he geue.
Toth Uulgar sort disloyall still, vnto the better part
Nor cankred rancour pale doth gnaw his blacke and fretting hart.
Nor fickle fauour forceth he, he bound doth not obay
The payse of Scepter proude: but weildes the massy scepter sway.
At ebbing honours gapes he not, nor moyles for fleeting mucke,
Remoued farre from houering hope and dread of backward lucke,
Not bitter gnawing Enuy rancke teares him with tooth vnkind,
Not quaynted with the mischiefe that in Cittyes and in mynd
Of people presseth thicke: nor quakes at euery blast that flies
With guilty conscience to himselfe, nor frames himselfe to lies.
Nor couets rich with thousand pillers close his head to shroude,
Nor guildes his beams with glisteryng gold for fancy fond and proude
Nor gushing streames of bloud vpon his innocent Alters flow.
Nor Bullockes bright their hundred heads as whyte as flakie Snow.
Do yeeld to Axe, whyle scattered is on thaulter sacred grayne,
But al the quiet countrey round at wil he doth obtayne.
And harmles walketh too and froe amid the open ayre,
And onely for the brutish Beast contriues a trapping snare.
Another whyle vppon the swift Alpheus banckes he walkes
Now vp and downe the breary Brakes of bushy woods he stalkes
Where lukewarme Lemas christall floud with water cleare doth shine,
And chaunging course his Channell out another way doth twyne:
And heare the piteous plaining Birds with chirping charmes do chide,
And Braunches trembling shake whereon soft windye puffes do glyde.
And spreading Beches old do stand, to fast and shake my shankes:
To stampe and daunce it doth me good on running Riuers bankes:
Or els vpon a withred clod to steale a nap of sleeepe,
Whereas the fountayne flowes amayne with gushing waters deepe.
Or els among the baulmy flowres out braying sauours sweete,
Wheras with pleasant humming noise the bubbling brooke doth fleete.
The Apples beaten of the tree do rauening hunger staunch,
And Strawberyes gathered of the bush soone fill with hungry paunch.
He shoons assaultes, that doth himselfe from regall royall hold.
Estates do quaffe theyr dreadful drinke in Bolles of massye Golde:
How trimme it is water to lap in palme of naked hand:
The sooner drowsye Morpheus byndes thy Browes with sleepy bande:
The carelesse corpes doth rest at ease vpon the hardest Couch:
The Cabin base hauntes not by Nookes, to prig and filch a pouch:
In house of many corners blynd his head he doth not hyde,
He loues to come abroade and in the light to be espyde:
The Heauens beare witnesse of his life, they liued in this wise.
I thinke, that scattred did of Gods in alder time arise.
No doting couetous blinde desire of Golde in them was found:
No stones nor slakes set vp in field did stint the parted ground:
The sayling Ship with brazen Stem cut not the waltring waue,
But euery man doth know his coast and how much he should haue.
No hugy Rampires raysed were, nor Ditches delued deepe,
Nor countermured Castle strong the walled Townes to keepe.
The Souldier was not busied his blunted Tooles to whet,
Nor rapping Pellets, Cannon shot the barred Gates downe bet,
Nor soyle with yoaked Oxe was strainde to beare the cutting share,
The field euen fertill of it selfe did feede the World with fare,
The plentifull aboundant Woods great wealth by nature gaue:
A house of nature take they had a dimme and darksome Caue:
The couetous minde to scrape vp wealth, and despret furious ire,
And greedy Lust (that eggeth on the minde all set on fire.)
First brake the bands, and eger thirst of bearing sway slept in,
To be the strongers rauening pray the weaker did begin,
And might went for oppressed right: the naked Fist found out
To scratch and cuffe, to box and bum, with dealing blowes about.
The knarrie Logs, and snaggie shine were framed weapons strong,
The gatten Tree vngrayned was with Pikes of Yron long.
No nor the rusty Fawchon then did hang along the side,
Nor Helmet crest vpon the head stood peirking vp for pride,
Pale spightfull griefe inuented Tooles, and warlick Mars his braine
Contriu'de new sleights, a thousand kinde of deathes he did ordaine:
By meanes hereof eche Land is fild with clottred gore yshed,
With streames of bloud the Seas are dyde to hue of sanguine red,
Then Mischiefe wanting measure gan through euery house to passe,
No kinde of vitious villany that practise wanted was.
By Brother, Brother reft of Breath, and eake the Fathers Life
By hand of Childe, eake murthred was the husband of his Wyfe.
And Mother lewde on mischiefe set destroyde their bodies seede,
I ouerpasse the Stepdame with her guilt and haynous deede,
And no where pitty planted is, as in the brutish beast:
But womankinde in mischiefe is ringleader of the reast,
The instrument of wickednesse enkindling first desire,
Whose vyle vncesteous whoredome set so many Townes on fire.
So many Nations fall to warre, eake Kingdomes ouerthrowne,
And raysed from the ground, to crushe so many people downe.
Let other passe: by Iasons Wyfe Medea may wee finde
By her alone, that Women are a plaguy crabbed kinde.

NV.
Why, for one womans fault of blame shall euery one haue part?

HIP.
I hate, detest, abhore, I loth, I curse them from my heart.
Bee't reason, right, or Natures law, or vengeance fury fell,
It likes me to abhorre them still: the burning fire shall dwell,
And bide with quenching water first, the daungerous quick Sand
Shall promisse Ships with safetinesse vpon the shold to land,
And Western Thetis soonke aloofe and drencht in deepest nooke,
Shall force the ruddy Morning Sunne from scarlet Skies to looke,
The Woolfe shall yeelde his fleering Chaps to suck the Tet of Do
Ere woon by womans loue, to her I crouch and stoupe alow.

NV.
Loue bridles oft with snaffling bits the stubborne wayward heart,
Beholde thy Mothers natiue land in Scythia euery part,
The saluage women feele the force of Venus yoaking band.
Thou onely Childe thy Mother had dost this well vnderstand.

HIP.
This onely comfort of my Mother must I keepe behinde,
That leefull vnto me it is to hate all Womankinde.

NV.
Euen as the stiffe and sturdy Rocks haue waltring waues wythstoode,
And dasheth backe from shore aloofe the fomy flapping floode:
So lightly he contemnes my talke: but Phædra runneth mad
Because of this my long delay with crushing cares yclad:
What will she doe? Aye me alas how shall she now be spead?
Her breathlesse body to the ground drops sodenly downe dead.
A fallow hue like gastly death ouerstrikes her frenzy Face,
Looke vp and speake beholde thy deare sweete heart doth thee embrace.

PHÆDRA. NVTRIX. HIPPOLYTVS.
HIP.
Behold this secret place is voyde from any witnesse bye.

PH.
My faltring tong doth in my mouth my tale begun denye.
Great force constrayneth mee to speake, but greater holde my peace,
O heauenly Ghostes I you protest, tis this that doth me please.

HIP.
Cannot the minde that couers talke in wordes at will out brast?

PH.
Light cares haue words at will, but great doe make vs sore agast.

HIP.
Mother the griefe yt galles your heart come whisper in mine eare.

PH.
The name of Mother is to proude a name for me to beare,
Importing puissant power too much: the fancy of my minde
It doth behoue, a baser name of lesse renowne to finde.
Mee (if thou please) Hippolytus thy Louing Sister call.
Or wayting Maide, and rather so: no drudgry spare I shall,
If thou through thicke and thin in snowes to trauaile me desire,
Or else commaunde mee for to runne through Coales of flaming fire,
Or set my foote on Pindus frosen Rocks, it yrkes mee not.
Or if thou will me rashly runne thorow scorching fire hot,
Or rauening routes of saluage beastes I will not slowly rest,
With gory Launce of naked blade my bowels to vnbrest.
These Kingdomes left to mee in charge weild thou of them the sway,
And take mee as thy humble Mate, it fits mee to obay,
And thee to giue commaundement, it is no womans feate,
To claime her Title to the Crowne, to raigne in Parents seate.
Thou flourishing amid the pryde of lusty youthfull race
Supply a valiant Prynces roome with Fathers golden Mace,
Protect thy humble suppliant, defend thy lowly Maide
Embrast in mercies bosome, at thy Feete so meekely layde.
Take pitty on a siely Widdowes wo, and wretched plight.

HIP.
The God that raignes aloft, forbid such lucklesse lot to light.
My Father Theseus safe in health will straight returne againe.

PH.
The lowring Lord that deepe in strōg infernall Gaile doe raigne,
And damned vp alwayes to passe from Stygian Puddle glum,
Whereby to breathing bodies left alone the ground to cum,
Shall he let scape the Cloyner of his ioyes from spousall bed,
Unlesse that Plutos fancy fond by doting loue be led:

HIP.
The righteous Gods will make for him a right retourning way,
But while through feare our wauering wils in houering Ballāce sway,
Upon my brethren will I cast a due and earnest care,
And thee defend: beleue not that in Widdowes plight yee are:
And I my selfe will vnto the supply my Fathers place,

PH.
O Loue (alas) of credit light, O Loue of flickring Face,
Is this inought that hee hath sayd? entreatance will I try,
Deare chylde rue on my wretched woe, doe not my suite deny,
That lurcking close doth couch in secret mourning breast of mee,
Faine would I speake: yet loth I am.

HIP
What mischiefe may this bee?

P.
Such mischief as ye would not think, could light in Mothers minde.

H.
With mūbling voyce perplext yee waste your words against ye winde.

PH.
A vapor hoate, and Loue doe glow within my bedlem brest:
It raging ranke no inwarde iuyce vndried leaues in rest:
The fier sonk in skalded guts through euery vayne doth frie,
And smothering close in seething bloud as flashing flame doth flie,
With egar sweeping sway along vp burning beames on hie.

HIP.
Enamorde thus with Loue entiere of Theseus dost thou rage?

PH.
Euen so it is: the louely lookes of Theseus former age
Which hee a sweete welfauorde Boy did beare with comly grace,
When prety dapper cutted Beard on cleare complexionde Face
Gan sproute, on naked Chin, when hee the kennels clottred bloode
Beheld of mongrell Minotaur, and crooking Maze withstoode
By groping long vntwined thredes the beames of beawty bright
That shone then in his Face, his crispen lockes with labels dight,
Smooth stroked lay, his scarlet Cheekes by nature paincted bright
Pouldred with spots of golden glosse, and sharpe assaults of Loue
Preuayled in his fleshly armes: what grace doth shine aboue
In the Dianaes Face, or fiery crested Phœbus myne,
Or else in comely count'naunce of this louely face of thine,
Such Theseus had when Ariadnaes Eye he did delight:
Thus portly pacing did he beare his noble head vpright.
It is no counterfeyted glosse that shineth in thy Face,
In thee appeares thy manly Fathers sterne and lowring Grace.
Thy Mothers crabbed count'naunce eake resembled in some part
Puts in full well a seemelynesse, to please the Lookers hart.
The Scythian awfull Maiesty with Greekish fauour sweete
Appeares: if thou had with thy Syre attempt the Seas of Creete,
(One of those seauen from Athens sent elect by lucklesse lot
To pay such bloudy tribute, which King Minos of them got.
The rauening and bloudthirsty Minotaurus fowle to feede)
My Sister Ariadne would, for thee haue spunne the threede.
Therewith in crafty compast Maze to leade thee to and fro,
In vgly Laberynthus long returning from thy Fo.
Thee, thee O Sister deare whereso in all the Heauen thou are,
And shinest bright with blasing beames transform'de into a Starre,
I thee beseech come succour mee with like distresse now cloyde:
Alas vs siely Sisters twaine one kinred hath destroyde.
The Sire thy smart, the sonne hath brewd the bane that me doth lees.
Beholde an Impe of royall race layde humbly at thy Knees,
Yet neuer staynde, and vndefilde, an harmelesse innocent,
To thee alone of all the Worlde my crowching Knees are bent,
And for the nones my hawty heart, and Princely courage stout
I did abate, that humbly thee with teares entreate I mought.

HIP.
O soueraygne Sire of Gods, dost thou abide so long to heare
This vile abhomination? so long dost thou forbeare
To see this haynous villany? if now the Skies be cleare,
Wilt thou henceforth at any time with furious raging hand
Dart out thy cracking thunder dint, and dreadfull lightnings brand?
Now battred downe wt bouncing bolts the rumbling Skies let fall
That foggy Cloudes with dusky drouping day may couer all,
And force the backward starting starres to slide a slope wythall
Thou starry crested crowne and Titan prankt with beamy blase
Come out, with staring bush vpon thy kindreds guilt to gase.
Dash out and drowne thy leaming lampe eclisde in glummy Skyes,
To shrink in shimmering shape: why doth thy right hand not aryse
O guide of Gods and men? how haps the worlde yet doth not burne,
Enkindled with three forked brand? on me thy thunder turne,
Dash out on mee thy bobbing bolt, and let thy fiery flake
Whirlde out with force, burnt Cinders of my wasted Carcasse make:
For guilty (Ioue) I guilty am, deserued death I haue,
My Stepdames Fancy I haue fed: shall I most sinfull slaue,
Be worthy thought to blot my Fathers honorable Bed?
Canst thou for mischiefe such through mee alone be lightly sped?
O Caitiue thou of womankinde for guilt that beares the bell,
Whose enterprised hainous euill doth passingly excell,
Thy Monster breeding Mothers fault with whoredome shee alone
Defilde her selfe, when storming sighes with sorrow gan shee grone,
Through beastly lust of Bull: till it the Minotaurus sier
In act of generation, had quencht her foule desier:
And yet the time concealed long, the grim twishaped seede
At length bewrayd with Bullike browes, thy Mothers naughty deede,
The doubted Infant did disclose: that wicked wombe shee bare.
With thrise, yea, foure times blessed Fate of lyfe depriu'de yee are,
Whom swolne of waltring Seas haue sonck, me cankred hate of breath
Dispoyled hath, and traytrous traynes haue quelde by daunting death.
With Stepdames banes and sorcery O Father, Father myne,
I rue thy lot, not to be slayne of milder Stepdame thyne.
This mischiefe greater, greater farre the wickednesse doth passe
That by Medea despret Dame of Colchis practisde was.

PH.
And I doe know, what vncouth luck vpon our stock hath light,
The thing that we should shun, we seeke, it is not in my might
To rule my selfe: through burning fire runne after thee I shall,
Through raging Seas, & craggy Rocks, through fleeting Ryuers all,
Which boyling waters ruffling rayse, what way so goe thou will,
I bedlem Wight with frantick fits will follow, follow still.
O stately Lorde before thy feete yet fall I once agayne.

HIP.
Doe not with shamelesse fawning Pawes my spotlesse body staine.
What meaneth this? with hawsing mee t'imbrace she doth begin:
Draw, draw my sword, with stripes deseru'de Ile pay her on the skin:
Her hayre about my left hand wound, her head I bacward wride,
No bloud Diana better spent thine Aulter yet hath dyde.

PH.
Hippolytus, now dost thou graunt to mee mine owne desire,
Thou cooles my ramping rage, this is much more than I require,
That sauing thus mine honesty I may be geuen to death,
By bloudy stroake receiued of thy hand to loose my breath.

HIP.
Auaunt, auaunt, preserue thy lyfe, at my hand nothing craue,
This filed Sword that thou hast toucht no longer will I haue.
What bathing lukewarme Tanais may I defilde obtaine,
Whose clensing watry Channell pure may washe mee cleane againe?
Or what Meotis muddy meare, with rough Barbarian waue
That boardes on Pontus roring Sea? not Neptune graundsire graue
With all his Ocean foulding floud can purge and wash away
This dunghill foule of sinne: O woode, O saluage beast I say:

NVT.
Thy crime detected is: O soule, why droupes thou all agast?
Let vs appeach Hippolytus with fault vpon him cast:
And let vs lay vnto his charge, how he by might vniust
Deflowre would his Fathers Wyfe with mischiefe, mischiefe must
Concealed bee: the best it is, thy foe first to inuade,
Sith that the crime is yet vnknowne who can be witnesse made,
That either first wee enterprisde, or suffred of him then?
Come, come, in hast Athenians, O troupes of trusty men
Help, help, Hippolytus doth come, hee comes, that Uillaine vile,
That Rauisher, and Lecher foule, perforce woulde vs defile.
Hee threatens vs denouncing death, and glittering Blade doth shake,
At her who chastly doth withstand, and doth for terrour quake:
Lo headlong hence for life and death hee tooke him to his flight,
And leaues his Sword in running rash, with gastly feare afright:
A token of his enterprise detestable wee keepe,
Sirs chearish her, that storming sighes with pensiue breast doth weepe.
Her ruffled hayre, and shattred Locks still let them daggle downe,
This witnesse of his villany so beare into the Towne.
(O Lady mine be of good cheare. Plucke vp your sprights againe,)
Why dost thou tearing thus thy selfe abhorre all peoples sight?
Not blinde Mischaunce but fancy wont to make a shamelesse Wight.

Chorus.

Hippolytvs euen as the rageing storme away doth fly,
More swift than whirling Western wynde vptumbling cloudes in Sky,
More swift then flashing flames, that catch their course with sweeping sway,
When Stars ytost with whisking windes long fiery Drakes display.
Fame (wondring at of aldertime our Auncestours renowne)
Fare well with thee, and beare away olde worship from our Towne.
So much thy beauty brighter shines, as much more cleare and fayre,
The golden Moone with glorious Globe full furnisht in the Ayre
Doth shine, when as her fiery tips of wayning hornes doe close,
When lifting vp her fulgent face in ambling Waine she goes,
Upon her nightwatch to attend, the Starres of lesser light
Their darckned Faces hide, as hee the Messenger of night
That watchword geues of th'euening tide and Hesperus hee hight,
That glading earst was bath'de in Seas, and hee the same agayne
When shades be shrunck, doth then the name of Lucifer obtayne.
Thou Bacchus blessed barne of Ioue in warlicke India borne,
Thou Lad that euermore dost weare thy hayry bush vnshorne,
Whose Iaueling tuft with Iuy bunch, the Tygres makes adred,
And dost with labelde Myter vse to pranck thy horny hed,
Hippolytus his staring Locks thou Bacchus shalt not slayne,
To woonder at thy louing lookes too much doe thou refrayne,
Whom (as the people doe report) the Ariadne bright,
For beauties name preferde before Bacchus that Bromius hight.
A brittle Iewell beauty is on mortall men employde,
Thou gift that for a season short of Mankinde arte enioyde,
How soone alas with feathered foote hence dost thou fading slide?
The partching Sommers vapour hoate in Uers most pleasaūte pride
So withers not the Meadowes greene, (when as the scorching Sūne)
In Tropick ligue of burning Crab full hoate at Noone doth runne,
And on her shorter clowdy Wheeles vnhorseth soone the night.
With wanny Leaues downe hang the heads of withred Lillies whight
The balmy bloomes and sprouting floure do leaue the naked hed
As beauty bright whose radiant beams in corauld Cheekes is spred,
Is dashed in the twincke of Eye: no day as yet did passe,
In which not of his beauty reft some pearles person was.
For Fauour is a fleetyng thing: what wight of any wit
Wil vnto frayle and fickle ioy his confidence commit?
Take pleasure of it whyle thou mayst, for Tyme with stealing steps
Wil vndermint, on howre past strayght in a worser leps:
Why flyest thou to the wildernes, to seeke thy succour there?
Thy beauty bydes not safer in the waylesse woods then here.
If Tytan hoyst his totteryng Cart on poynt of ful midday,
Thee shrowded close among the brakes the Naids wil assay,
A gadding troupe that beautyes Bayes do locke in fountaynes fayre.
To frame their seate then vnto thee in senseles sleepe repayre,
Shal wanton Fayries, Nymphes of Frithes, yt on the Hilles do walke,
Which Dryads mountayne Goblins haunt, that vse on hilles to stalke:
Or when from high Starbearing poale Diana downe did looke
On thee that next old Arcades in heauen thy seate hast tooke,
Shee could not weilde her weltring wayne, and yet no foggy cloude.
Eclipst her gleaming Globe, but we with rincking Pans aloude,
Gan make a noyse, agrised at her dead and glowing light
We deemd hir charmd with Magicke verse of Thessant witches spright
But thou didst cause hir busines, and madest her in a maze,
Whyle at thy pleasant louely lookes the Goddesse stoode in gaze,
That rules the rayne of cloudy night she stopt her running race,
God graunt that seldome byting frost may pinch this comely face.
Let seldome scorching Sunny beams thy Cheekes with freckles die:
The Marble blue in quarry pittes of Parius that doth lie,
Beares not so braue a glimsyng glosse as pleasant seemes thy face
Whose browes with manly maiesty support an awful grace
And forehead fraught with grauity of Fathers countnaunce old:
His Iuory colourd necke although compare to Phœbe ye would,
His lockes (that neuer lacking knew) it selfe displaying wyde
On shoulder poyntes doth set them out, and also doth them hyde,
Thy curled forhead seemes thee well, and eake thy notted hayre,
That crumpled lies vndight in thee a manly grace doth beare.
Thou Gods (though fierce and valiant) perforce dost chase, and farre
Dost ouermatch in length of limmes, though yet but young thou arre,
Thou beares as big & boystrous brawnes as Hercules: thy breast,
Then Champion Mars more bourly bolstred out with broader chest:
On back of horniehoofed Steedes if vawting thou do ryde,
With Bridle in thyne actiue hand more handsome canst thou guyde.
The trampling Cyllar horse of Spart, then Princely Castor could,
Thy Letherne loope amid thy dart with former fingers hould,
And driue thy launce with all thy pith, the actiue men of Creete,
That with their pitched dartes afarre do learne the marke to hit.
They shall not hurle a slender Reede, but after Parthian guyse
To shoote an arrow if they list into the open Skies.
Unsped without some Bird attaynt it shal not light on ground,
Unbath'd with lukewarme bloud of guttes in gory smoking wound,
And from amid the lofty Cloudes downe shalt thou fetch thy pray:
Few men (marke wel the tyme) haue borne beauty vnplagude away.
God send thee better lucke, and graunt thy noble personage
May passe vnto the happy steps and stretch to dumpish age.
What mischiefe vnattempt escapes a Womans witlesse rage?
Most haynous crymes shee meanes to lay to guiltles youngmās charge
And thinkes to make her matter good with hayre thus rent at large,
She towseth eake the pranking of her head with watred plantes,
Her slye deuyse no crafty kind of womans fetches wantes.
But who is this that in his face such princely port doth beare?
Whose lofty lookes with stately pace hie vauntst his head doth reare?
Lyke lusty young Pyrithous, he looketh in the face,
But that a faynting fallow pale his bleakish Cheekes disgrace,
And filthy baggage hangeth on his hash hayre raysde vpright,
Lo Theseus, it is agayne restoard to earthly light:

THE THIRDE ACTE.

Theseus, Nutrix,
Nu.
A stubburne heart and obstinate in Phȩdras breast doth dwell,
With despret mind to stay her selfe our teares she doth despyse,
And giuing vp the gasping Ghoast, alas my Lady dyes.

Th.
Why should she kill herselfe? why die, hir spouse being come againe?

Nu.
For this (my Lord) with hasty death she would her selfe haue slaine.

Th.
These troblous wordes some perlous thing I wot not what to tell
Speake plain: what lumpe of glutting griefe her laded heart doth quel?
She doth complayne her case to none, but pensiuely and sad
She keepes it secrete to hir selfe, determind thus shee had,
To beare aboute with her the bane, wherewith she meanes to die.
Hie, hie thee fast, I pray thee now, now haue wee neede to hye.
Our Pallace lockt with stately stoulpes set open by and by.

Theseus, Phædra.
Ph.
Alas my valiant Theseus euen for thy royall mace,
Wherwith thy Kingdome thou dost weild, and by the noble raygne
Of thy belo'ud posterity, and comming home agayne,
And for the worship that is due vnto my fatall graue,
O let me die and suffer me, deserued death to haue.

Th
What cause compelleth thee to die?

Ph.
If I the cause of death
Disclose, then shall I not obtayne the loosyng of my breath:

Th.
No worldly wight (saue I my selfe alone) the same shall heare,
Art thou affrayd to tel it in thy husbandes bashful eare?
Speake out, thy secretes shrowd I shall within my faythful brest.

Ph.
What thou would other to conceale, kepe thou it first in rest,

Th.
Thou shalt not suffred be to die:

Ph.
From him that wisheth Death,
Death neuer can be seperate.

Th.
The crime that losse of breath
Ought to reuenge, shew it to me.

Ph.
Forsooth because I liue.

Th.
Alas do not my trilling teares thy stony stomacke grieue?

Ph.
It is the sweetest death, when one doth lothsome life forsake,
Bereft of such as should for him most woful weeping make.

Th.
Stil standes she mum? ye croked, old, ilfauord, hoblinge Trotte,
Hir Nurse for stripes and clogging bandes shall vtter euery iotte,
That shee forbid her hath to tell: in yron chaynes her bynd,
Let tawing whips wring out perforce the secrets of her mynd:

PH.
Now I my selfe wil speak: stay yet.

TH.
Why dost thou turne aside
From me thy weeping Countenance? thy teares why dost thou hide
That gushing sodaine frō thine eyes streame downe thy cheekes apace?
Why hidest thou thy flowing floudes with Coate before thy Face?

PH.
Thee, thee, Creator of the Heauens to witnesse I doe call,
And thee O glittering fiery glede of Christall Sky with all,
And Phœbus thou from whom at first our royall Race hath roon.
With fawning face & flattring words in suite I was not woon.
For naked sword, & thundring threts, appauled was I not:
My brused bones abode the blowe, and stripes when sore he smote:
This blemish black of foule defame my bloud shall purge agayne.

TH.
Declare what villaine is he yt our honour so doth stayne?

PH.
Whom least yee would mistrust.

TH.
To know who tis, ful sore I long.

PH.
This Sword wil tel, which sore afright when people thick in thrōg
Resorted fast, the Leacher vile for hast did leaue behinde,
Because the people preasing fast he dreeded in his minde:

TH.
Ah out alas, O woe is mee, what villany see I?
Alas what vncouth Monster fowle of mischiefe I espy?
Beholde the royall Iuory engrau'de and purtred fine,
Emboast with golden studdes, vpon th'enameld Haft doth shine,
(The Iewell of Actea lande) but whyther fled is bee?

PH.
With light Heele running sore dismaide these seruants did him see?

TH.
O sacred holinesse, O Ioue betweene whose mighty hands
The Marble Poale with weltring sway in course directed stands,
And thou that second Scepter weilds in fomy fighting waue,
Why doth this cursed broode with such this wicked vengeance raue?
Hath he bene fostred vp in Greece? or craggy Taurus wilde
Among hard rugged Rocks, and Caues, some sauage Scythian Childe?
Or else in brutish Colchis Ile by Desart Phasis flood?
Cat after kinde hee is, and will th'unkindly Bastard blood
Returne vnto his kinreds course, whence first his ligne hee clames.
This frantick fury vp and downe comes of the warlicke Dames,
To hate the loyall leagues of loue, and shunning long the vse
Of Cupids campe, with tag, and rag, her body to abuse,
Become as good as euer twangd: O detestable kinde,
No better Soyle by any meanes can chaunge thy filthy minde.
The brutish beasts themselues doe loath th'abuse which Venus drawes,
And simple shame fastnesse it selfe obserueth Natures lawes:
Where is the brag of Maiesty, and fayned portly grace
Of manly minde, that hateth new, and olde things doth embrace?
O double dealing life, thou clokes deceiptful thoughtes in brest,
And settest out a forhead fayre where frounced mynd doth rest:
The saucie Iacke with bashful brow doth malipiertnes hide:
The rashnes of the despret Dicke by stilnesse is vnspide.
With show of right religion knaues villany mayntayne,
And guileful mealemouthd Gentlemen do hold with speaking playne:
The daynty wanton Carpet Knights of hardnes boast and prate,
That Woodraunger, that brainsicke beast who liu'd in chast estate
An vndefyled Bachiler thou rude and homely clowne,
Thus dost thou watch thy tyme, to breede this blot in my renowne?
To make me Cuckold first of all did it delyght thy mynd,
First falling to thy spousall sport with mischiefe most vnkind,
Now, now, to thee supernal Ioue most hearty thankes I yeeld,
That with my first Antiope to dreary death I quelde,
That gone to dampish Stygian Dennes I left thee not behynd
Thy Mother: go, go Uagabond rawnge, rawnge, about to finde
Straunge forraine soyles, and outcast landes aloofe at world his end,
And Iles enclosd with th'Ocean floud to hell thy soule shall send:
Beneath among th'Antipodes thy selfe of harbring sped,
Though in the vtmost lurking nooke, thou shroude thy miching heade,
Aboue the grisly Pallaces thou climbe of lofty Poale,
Or maist aboue the clottring Snow aduaunce thy cursed Soule,
Beyond the brunt of Winter flawes and threatning rigour passe
And stormy wrath with rumbling rough of ysie Boreas,
With vengeance, vengeance violent fast hurling after thee,
With daunting plagues and pestilence thy sinnes shal scourged bee.
For life and death, about the world in euery lurking hoale.
O fugitiue I shal not cease stil to pursue thy soule.
But seeke and search for thee I shall in landes that lye a farre,
Al corners blynd and caues shut vp, Dennes lockt with bolt and barre,
A thousand wayes vnpassable no place shal me withstand.
My cursinges blacke shal light on thee there where reuenging hande
With weapon cā not worke ye harme: thou knowest that Neptune great
My Syre who flotes on floudes, & waues, with forked Mace doth beat
Geue licence freely vnto me three boones to chuse and craue,
Which willingly the God hath graunt, and sworne I shal it haue
Protesting vgsome Stygian Lake, and hallowed hath his vow:
O breaker of the wrastling waues, auouch thy promise now
Let neuer more Hippolitus behold th'eclipsed light,
And for the Fathers wrathful rage the cursed child downe smight,
To waile among the gastly sprites o Father bend thy might,
To giue (alas) this lothsome ayde vnto thy needy Sonne,
I of thy Maiesty deuyne exact not to be donne.
This chiefest bone, til puissant payse of ylles do vs oppresse:
In bottom deepe of boylyng Tartar pit and sore distresse,
In grisly Lymbo Iawes nigh garglefaced Ditis dimme,
Amid the crumpled threatning browes of Hellick Pluto grim,
To claime thy promise made to mee, as then I didde refrayne,
Now Syre thy fayth by promise due perfourme to me agayne.
Yet dost thou stay? why rumble not the waltring waues yet husht,
Through foggy cloude in dusky skies with stormy blastes outrusht.
Unfold the mantel blacke of Night, and roll away the Skies,
Enforce the fighting floods brast out with mounting waues to ryse
And coniure vp the water hagges that in the Rockes do keepe,
The Ocean surges swellyng hie cast vp from bottom deepe.

Chorus.

O nature Grandame greate of Heauenly Sprites,
Eake Ioue that guides Olimpus mighty sway,
That rakes the race of twinckling heauēly lightes
On spinning Spheare and order dost for aye
The stragling course of roaming planets hie,
And weildes about the whirling Axeltree
The weltring Poales, th'eternal course of Skie
To keepe in frame, what workes such care in thee
That earst the cold which hoary winter makes
Vnclothes the naked wood, and now agayne
The shades returne vnto the breary brakes
Now doth the starre of Sommer Lion raygne,
VVhose scalded necke with boyling heate doth frie,
Perbraking flames from fiery foming iawes:
VVith scorching heate the parched corne do drie:
Ech season so his kindly course in drawes.
But thou that weildes these thinges of massy might,
By whom the hugy world with egal payse
Euen Ballanced doth keepe in compasse right,
Each Spheare by measurd weight that iustly swaise,
Alas why dost thou beare a retchles breast
Toward mankind? not casting any care
That wicked men with mischiefe be opprest,
And eake to see that goodmen wel do fare
Dame Fortune topsieturuy turnes at wil
The world, and deales her dole with blinded hand,
And fosters vice mayntayning mischiefe ill.
Fowle lust triumphes on good men brought in band
Deceipt in stately Court the sway doth weild,
In Lordinges levvde the vulgar sort delight,
With glee to such the Mace of might they yeeld.
Some magistrates they do both loue and spight,
And pensiue vertue brought to bitter bale,
Receyues revvard that doth of right aryse,
The continent to Prison neede doth hale,
The Leacher raygnes enhaunced by his vice.
O fruitles shame, O counterfayted port.
But vvhat nevves may this messenger novv bring,
Who vvith maine pace comes poasting in this sort,
And stayes vvith mourning countnance at the Kinge.

THE FOVRTH ACTE.

Nuntius, Theseus,
Th.
Be not abasht the ruthful wracke with courage to declare:
My breast agaynst the brunt of broyles stil armed I prepare,

Nun.
My foltring tongue doth speach vnto my glutting griefe denye.

Th.
Our stocke with sorrow shuken sore what cares do crush escrie.

Nun.
Hippolytus (ay woe is me) is slayne by doleful death.

Tn.
Now Father do I know my Sonne bereaued of his breath,
For why the Leacher life is lost: shew in what sort he dide.

Nun.
In all poast hast as fugitiue to shunne the Towne he hyde
Once hauing caught his cutting course apace he scuddes away,
His prauncing Palfrayes straite he doth with Collers close araye:
With curbed bittes their snaffled heads at wil he brydles in,
Then talking much vnto himselfe to curse he doth beginne
His natiue soyle: alas deare Father, Father stil he cryes:
And angry lasheth with his whip, whyle loose his Bridle lies:
Then sodenly a hugy swolue gan swel amid the deepe,
And starteth vp into the starres no pipling wind doth sweepe
Along the Seas in Heauen so lith no noyse at all there was:
The Seas ful calme euen as their kindly Tyde doth driue them, passe.
Nor yet no boysterous Southerne wynd the Sycill sand turmoyles.
Nor yet with fomie ramping surge the raging gulph vp boyles,
Heaude vp by Westerne puffes: when as the rockes with flappyng flash
Do shake and drownd Lucates cliue the hoary fome doth dash.
The tombling waues togeather tost on hils are heaped hie,
The swelling swolue with Monster much to land alofe doth flye,
Nor only shaken ships in Seas do suffer wracke hereby:
The land in hazard lyes of stormes a waltring waue is rold
In tottring wise a wallowing gulph with winding compas fold,
Driues downe I know not what withall: a flat vprisyng new
An head aboue the water brim doth rayse the Starres to vew.
In foggie cloud eclipsed is Apollos dusky gleede,
And Scyros Rocks whom Trumpe of Fame aduaunst by dreary deede
Corynthus eake whom double Sea on eyther side assayle:
While greatly we agriesd, these thinges do languishing bewayle,
The belking Seas yell out the grunting Rockes with all do rore:
The slabby Cliue doth reke, fro whence the water ebde before,
It frothes, and keping course by course it spewes the waters out,
As doth Physeter fish (that flittes the Ocean Coast about)
And gulping doth from yawning throat his flouds of water spoute.
The shaken surge did tottre strayte and brake it selfe in twayne:
With wracke (more violent then wee did feare) it rusht amayne
Agaynst the shore, beyond the bankes it breakes into the land:
And hideous Monster followes: these for feare did quaking stand

Th.
What shape that vncouth Monster had and body vast declare.

Nu
A boasting Bull, his marble necke aduaunced hye that bare,
Upraysd his lofty bristled Mayn on curled forhead greene
With shaggy eares prickt vp his diuers speckled hornes were seene.
(Whom Bacchus earst possessed had, who tames the Cattell wyld,
And eake the God that borne in flouds was bred a water Chyld)
Now puffing he perbraketh flames, and now as leaming light
With sparckling beams his goggle eyes do glare and glister bright.
His greasy larded necke (a marke for to be noted well)
With rough and knobby curnels hie out bumping big do swell.
His snorting Nostrilles wyde do grunt and yawning gulphes they sosse,
His breast and throtebag greenishly are dawbd with clammy mosse
His side along begrymed is with Lactuse red of hue,
On snarling knots his wrinkled rumpe toward his face he drue,
His scaly haunch, and lagging tayle most vgly dragges hee vp,
As Pristis in the deepe of Seas the swallowed Keele doth sup,
Or else perbraketh out agayne the vndigested pup.
The earth did quake, the Cattel feard about the field do rampe,
The hunter starke with chilling feare beginnes to stare and stampe,
The heirdman had no mynd his scattrynge Heyfers to pursue,
The Deere amazed brake the pale and bad the Laundes adue.
But onely yet Hippolytus. deuoyde of faynting feare
His neyng horses with the raynes of Bridles hard doth beare,
With wonted woordes he cheareth vp his nymble Nagges afraide:
A steepe hie way at Argos lies with stony cliues decaide,
That nodding ouerhangs the Sea, which vnderfleetes that wayes:
That vgly Royle heere beates him selfe, and raging wrath doth rayse,
And kindling courage hoate, him force with burning breast assayes,
And chaufing eft himselfe before gan fret with angry hart.
Lo then into a scouring course on sodayne doth hee start,
With whirling pace he girding forth doth scarcely touch the ground,
Lighting a front the trimbling Cart with glaring Eyes hee glowmd.
Then also doth thy threatning Son with lowring browes vpstart,
Nor chaungeth Countenaunce, but speakes with stout couragious hart.
This foolish feare doth not appaule my bold and hardned brest,
It comes to mee by kinde, that Bulls by mee should bee opprest.
His Steedes defying strait the Raynes plonge forward with the Cart,
As rage did prick them, sore afright beside the way they start.
This bias way among the Rocks they raunge, and wander wyde,
But as the Pylot (least the Barke should totter to one syde)
Doth beare it euen in wrastling waues: so while his horses skip,
He ruleth them, now raines them hard, and now with winding whip
Free lashes on their buttocks layes: his Foe doth him pursue,
Now step by step, now meeting full agaynst his face hee flue.
Prouoking terror euery where. No further fly they might:
The horned beast with butting Browes gan run vpon them right.
The trampling Gennets straught of wits doe straight way breake their ray,
The struggle striuing hard to slip the Collar if they may.
And prauncing on their hinder Feete, the burden hurle on ground:
Thy Son flat falling on his Face, his body fast was bound,
Entangled in the winding ropes, the more he striues to loose
The slipping knots, he faster sticks within the sliding noose.
The Horses doe perceyue the broyle: and with the Waggon light
While none there is to rule the Raynes, with skittish feare afright
At randon out they ramping runne, (euen as the Welkin hye
The Cart that mist his woonted waight, disdayning in the Skye
The dreery day that falsely was commit vnto the Sun,
From off the fiery Marble Poale that downe askew doth run,
Flang Phaeton topsie toruey tost) his bloud begores the ground:
And dingd agaynst the rugged Rocks his head doth oft rebound:
The brambles rent his haled hayre the edged flinty stones,
The beauty batter of his Face, and breake his crashing bones:
At Mouth his blaring tongue hangs out with squeased eyne out dasht,
His Iawes & Skull doe crack, abrode his spurting Braynes are pasht,
His cursed beauty thus defoylde with many wounds is spent:
The iotting Wheeles do grinde his guts, and drenched lims they rent.
At length a Stake wt Trūchion burnt his ripped Paūch hath caught,
From riued Grine to th' Nauell stead within his wombe it raught:
The Cart vpon his Maister pawsde agaynst the ground ycrusht,
The Fellies stuck within the wounds, and out at length they rusht:
So both delay and Maisters limbs are broke by stresse of Wheeles:
His dragling guts then trayle about the wincing horses heeles.
They thumping with their horny Hooues agaynst his Belly kick,
From bursten Paunch on heapes his blouddy bowells tumble thick:
The scratting Bryers on the Brakes with needle poynted pricks
His gory Carkas all to race with spelles of thorny sticks
And of his flesh ech ragged shrub a gub doth snatch and rent,
His men (a mourning troupe God knowes) with brackish teares besprēt
Doe stray about the fielde, whereas Hippolytus was tore:
A piteous signe is to bee seene by tracing long of gore:
His howling Dogges their Maisters limmes with licking follow still:
The earnest toyle of woful Wights can not the coars vp fill,
By gathering vp the gobbets sparst and broken lumps of flesh.
Is this the flaunting brauery that comes of beauty fresh?
Who in his Fathers Empyre earst, did raigne vs pryncely Peare
The Heyre apparant to the Crowne, and shone in honour cleare,
Lyke to the glorious Stars of Heauen, his Limmes in pieces small
Are gathred to his fatall Graue, and swept to funerall.

TH.
O Nature that preuaylste too much, (alas) how dost thou binde
Whyth bonds of bloud the Parents breast? how loue we thee by kinde?
Maugre our Teeth whom guilty eeke we would haue rest of breath?
And yet lamenting with my teares I doe bewayle thy death.

NVN.
None can lament with honesty that which he wisht destroyde.

TH.
The hugiest heape of woes by this I thinke to be enioyde,
When flickering Fortunes cursed wheele doe cause vs cry alas,
To rue the wrack of things which earst wee wished brought to passe.

NVN.
If stil thou keepe thy grudge, why is thy Face wt teares besprēt?

TH.
Because I slue him, not because I lost him, I repent.

Chorus.

THE FIFTE ACTE.

THESEVS. PHÆDRA. CHORVS.
PH.
O tamer of the wrastling waues mee, mee, doe thou inuade.
The Monstrous hags of Marble Seas to rampe on mee send out,
What euer Thetis low doth keepe with folding armes about,
Or what the Ocean Seas aloefe embrace with winding waue:
O Theseus that to thine alies dost still thy selfe behaue
So Currishly, O thou that for thy louing Friends auayle
Dost neuer yet returne: thy Sonne and Father doe bewayle
Thy pasport brought by death, and blood, thy stooke thou dost destroy,
By loue or hatred of thy wife thou workest still annoy:
O sweete Hippolytus thus I behold thy battred face,
And I it is, I wretch (alas) that brought thee to this case,
What Scinis forst thy lims so torne his snatching boughes to feele?
Or what Procrustes rackt and rent thee streacht on bed of Steele?
Or else what Minotaur of Crete that grim twishaped Bull
With horny head (that Dedalls dennes with louing filleth full)
Hath thee in fitters torne? (aie me) where is thy beauty fled?
Where are our twinckling stars thine eyes? alas and art thou ded?
Appeare a while, receiue my words, for speake I shall none yll:
This hand shal strike the stroake, wherwith thy vengeance quite I wil.
And sith that I, I Cavife, I, abridged haue thy life,
Lo here I am content, to yeelde thee mine with bloudy knife.
If ghost may here be giuen for ghost, and breath may serue for breath,
Hippolytus take thou my soule, and come againe from death.
Behold my bowels yet are safe my lims in lusty plight,
Would God that as they serue for me, thy body serue they might,
Mine eies to render kindly light vnto thy Carkasse ded,
Lo for thy vse this hand of mine shall pluck them from my hed,
And set them in these empty cells and vacant holes of thine.
Thy weale of me a wicked Wight to win, do not repine.
And if a womans wofull heart in place of thine may rest,
My bosom straight breake vp I shall, and teare it from my brest.
But courage stout of thine doth loth faint womans heart to haue
Thy Noble minde would rather go with manly heart to graue.
Alas be not so manly now, this manlinesse forbeare,
And rather choose to liue a man with womans sprite and feare,
Then as no man with manly heart in darcknesse deepe to sit:
Haue thou thy life, giue me thy death that more deserueth it.
Can not my profer purchase place: yet vengeance shal thou haue,
Hell shall not hold me from thy syde nor death of dompish graue.
Sith fates wil not permit thee life, though I behest thee mine,
My selfe I shall in spite of fate my fatall twist vntwine.
This blade shall riue my bloudy breast, my selfe, I will dispoile
Of soule, and sinne at once: through floods and Tartar gulphes yt boyle,
Through Styx and through the burning Lakes I wil come after thee:
Thus may we please the lowring shades, receiue thou heere of mee
The parings of my Poll and Locks cut off from forehead torne,
Our hearts we could not ioyne in one, yet wretches now forlorne
We shal togeather in one day our fatall hower close:
If thou be loyall to thy spouse, for him thy life then lose:
But if thou be vncestuous, dye for thy louers sake.
Shall I vnto my husbandes bed agayne my corps betake,
Polluted with so haynous crime? O death the chiefest ioy
Of wounding shame: Death onely ease of stinging Loues annoy:
We runne to thee: embrace our a sowles within thy gladsome breast:
Harke Athens, harke vnto my talke, and thou aboue the reste,
Thou Father worse vnto thy Child than bloudy stepdame I.
False forged tales I told with shame, I fayning that did lye,
Which I of spite imagined, when raging breast did swarue:
Thou father falsly punisht hast him that did not deserue.
The youngman chast is cast away for myne vncestuous vice,
Both bashful he and guiltles was, now play thy wonted guyse.
My guilty breast with bloudy Launce of Sword deseru'd is riuen,
The Dirge to th' dead to purge my spouse shal with my bloud be geuen.
Thou father of the stepdame learne, what things thy Sōne should haue
Of life depriued, as to lay his carkasse in a graue.

Th.
O wanny Iawes of blacke Auerne, take Tartar dungeon grim,
O Lethes Lake of woful Soules the ioy that therein swimme,
And eake ye glummy Gulphes destroy, destroy me wicked wight
And stil in pit of pangues let me be plunged day and night.
Now, now, come vp ye Goblins grim from water creekes alow,
What euer Proteus hugie swolue aloofe doth ouerflow,
Come dowse me drownd in swallowes depe, that triumphe in my sinne:
And father thou that euermore ful ready prest hath binne
To wreake myne yre, aduentring I a deede deseruing death
With new found slaughter haue bereft myne onely Sonne of breath.
His tattred lims I scatred haue the bloudy field about,
Whyle th'innocent I punish doe, by chaunce I haue found out:
The truth of al this wickednes: heauen, starres, and sprites of hell
I pester with my treachery that me doth ouerquell.
No mischiefes hap remayneth more: iii. kingdomes know mee well:
We are returned to this World. For this did Hell vnfold
His gates that burials twayne I might and double death beholde?
Wherby I both a wyueles Wight and eake a Sonles Sire,
May with one brand to wyfe and Sonne enflame the funeral fire.
O dancer of blackefaced light Alcides, now restore
Thy booty brought from Hel, redeeme to mee, to mee therfore
These Ghostes that now be gone, ah sinful wretch to death in vayne
I sue, most vndiscrete by whom these wretched Wightes were slayne.
Imagining destruction sore aboute it wil I goe,
Now with thyne owne handes on thy selfe due vengeance do bestow:
A Pine tree bough downe straind perforce vnto the ground alow,
Let slip into the open ayre shal cut my corpes in twayne.
From top of Scyrons Rockes I wil be tumbled downe amayne.
More grieuous vengeance yet I haue in Phlegethon Riuer found,
Tormenting guilty Ghostes enclosd with fiery Channel round.
What pit and pangues shal plunge my soule already haue I known,
That tyring toyle of Sisyphus that retchles rolling stone,
Let yeeld vnto my guilty Ghost, and beyng layed on
These shoulders, these, these lifting handes of myne downe let it sway:
And let the fleeting floud aboute my lips deluded play.
Yea let the rauening grype come heare and Tytius paunch forsake,
For glutting foode with grasping Cleaze my liuer let him take,
Encreasyng stil to feede the Foule, and for my tormentes sake.
And pause thou my Pyrothous Syre, and eke the snackle Wheele
That whirleth stil enforce my limmes thy swinging swift to feele.
Gape, gape, thou ground and swallow me thou cruell Chaos blynd,
This passage to thinfernall Sprightes is fit for me to find:
My Sonne I wil ensue, thou Prince of gastly ghostes in hell,
Dread not for chast wee come to thee: geue thou me leaue to dwell
Among thy dreadful dennes for aye, and not to passe agayne.
Alas, my prayer at the Gods no fauour can obtayne,
But if that mischiefe craue I should how ready would they bee?

Ch.
O Theseus to thy plaint eternall tyme is graunted thee:
Prouyde thy Sonne his Obit rytes, and shroude in dompish graue
His broken lims, which Monsters foule disperst and scattered haue.

Th.
The shreadings of this deare beloued carkasse bring to mee,
His mangled members hether bring on heapes that tombled be:
This is Hyppolytus, I do acknowledge myne offence,
For I it is, that haue depriued thee of life and sense.
Least that but once, or onely I should be a guilty Wight,
I Sire attempting mischiefe haue besought my Fathers might.
Lo I enioy my fathers gift, O solitarinesse,
A grieuous plague when feeble yeares haue brought vs to distresse,
Embrace these lims, and that which yet doth of thy sonne remayne,
O woeful wight in baleful breast preserue and entertayne.
These scattred scraps of body torne O Syre in order fet,
The straying gobbetts bring agayne, here was his right hand set:
His left hand here instructed well to rule the raynes must be.
His left syde rybbs (ful wel I know to be bewayld of mee
With bitter teares) as yet alas are lost and wanting still,
O trembling handes behold this woful busines to fulfil,
And withered Cheekes forbid your streams of flowing tears to runne
Whyle that the father do accompt the members of his Sonne.
And eke patch vp his body rent, that hath his fashion lost,
Disfigured foule with gorye woundes, and all about betost:
I doubt, if this of thee be peece, and peece it is of thee:
Here, lay it here, in th'empty place, here let it layed be,
Although perhap it lye not right: (aye me) is this thy face?
Whose beauty twinckled as a starre, and eake did purchase grace,
In sight of Foe procurd to ruth. Is this thy beauty lost?
O cruell will of Gods, O rage in sinne preuayling most.
Doth thus the Syre that great good turne perfourme vnto his sonne?
Lo let thy fathers last farewel within thyne eares to runne,
My child whom oft I bid farewell: the whilst the fire shall burne
These bones, set ope his buriall bower, and let vs fall to mourne
With loude lamenting Mopsus wise for both the coarses sake:
With Princely Pompe his funerall fire see that ye ready make.
And seeke ye vp the broken parts in field dispersed round,
Stop hir vp hurlde into a Pit, let heauy clodds of ground
lie hard vpon hir cursed hed.

THE SEVENTH TRAGEDYE OF L. ANNAEVS SENECA, Entituled MEDEA: Translated out of Latin into Englishe, by IOHN STVDLEY.

The Argument. To the Tragedy, by the Translator.

The Speakers names.

• MEDEA.
• CHORVS.
• NVTRIX.
• CREON.
• IASON.
• NVNTIVS.

THE FIRST ACTE.

Medea,
O Gods whose grace doth guide their ghostes that ioy in wedlocke pure,
O Iuno thou Lucina hight, on whom the chary cure
Alotted is of those, that grone in paynfull chyldbed bandes,
O Pallas by whose heauenly arte, Sir Typhis cunning handes
Haue learnde to bridle with his helme his newly framed boate,
Where with the force of fighting fluds hee breaking rides a floate.
O God whose forked Mace doth stormes in rigour rough appeas,
And cause the ruffling surges couch amid the rampinge Seas:
O Titan who vpon the swift and werling Hemisphær
Deuides the chearefull day and night by egall turnes t'appere,
O threefolde shapen Hecate that sendest forth thy light,
Unto thy silent Sacrifice that offered is by night,
By whom my Iason sware to mee O heauenly powers all,
And yee on whom Medea may with safer conscience call,
O Dungeon darke, most dreadfull den of euerlasting night,
O dampned Ghosts: O kingdome set against the Gods aright:
O Lord of sad and lowring lakes, O Lady dyre of Hell,
(Whom though that Pluto stale by force yet did his troth excell
The ficke fayth of Iasons loue, that hee to mee doth beare,
With cursed throate I coniure you, O grisly Ghostes appeare.
Come out, come out, yee hellish hegges, reuenge this deed so dyre,
Bring in your scratting pawes a burning brand of deadly fyre,
Rise vp yee hiddeous diuelish Feendes, as dreadfull as yee weare,
When vnto me in wedlocke state yee did sometime appeare.
Worke yee, worke yee, the dolefull death of this new wedded Wyfe.
And martir yee this Father in lawe: depryue of breath and lyfe
King Creons ruthfull family: in plunge of passing payne
Torment yee mee, that on my spouse doe wishe this woe to raygne:
Preserue my Iasons life, but yet let him be bayled out
A myching, roging, rūnagate, in forren townes about.
To passe from dore to dore, with care to begge his needy bread,
Not knowing in what harbring place to couch his curssed head:
A banisht wretch, disdaynde of all, and still in feare of lyfe,
Then let him wish ten thousand times for me agayne his Wyfe:
This famous gest whom euery man will entertayne and haue,
Let him be driuē at straungers gates the table crūmes to craue.
And that my bytter bannings may with mischiefe most abounde,
God graunt in gulph of like distresse his chyldren may be drounde,
To synke in sorrowes stormes, that doe their mother ouerflowe:
Now, now, I haue, I haue the full reueng of all my woe,
I haue dispatcht: my pyteous playnt and wordes in vayne I lose:
What shall not I with vyolence get vp agaynst my foes?
And wring out of theyr wrested hands the wedding torch so bryght?
Shall I not force the firmament to lose his shrinking lyght?
What doth my Graundsirs Phœbus face this heauy hap beholde?
And standyng gasyng at this geare yet westwarde is he rolde,
On glystring chariot hoysted hyghe, and keepes his beaten Race,
Amid the christall colourde skye, why turnes hee not his Face,
Retyring fast into the East backe vp the day to twyne?
O Father Phœbe to me, to me, thy Chariot reynes resigne,
That I aduaunced vp, about the marble skyes may ryde,
Biqueath thy brydle vnto mee, and giue me grace to guide
Thy yoked prauncing teame, with yerking lasshe of burning whip,
That with thy feruent fyry beames on purple poole doe skip.
Let Corynth countrey burnt to dust by force of flame and fyre
Gyue place, that both the tumbled sees may ioyne: whom to retyre
It doth compell, and dassheth of from banke on eyther syde,
Least meete in one their chanels might, whose streames hee doth deuide.
No way to worke theyr deadly woe I haue but this at hande,
That to the wedding I should beare a ruthfull brydall brande,
Anoying Creons carelesse Court: when finished I haue
Such solemne seruice, as that ryght of sacrafice doth craue,
Then at the Aulters of the Gods my chyldren shalbe slayne,
With crimsen colourde bloud of Babes their Aulters will I stayne.
Through Lyuers, Lungs, the Lights & Heart, through euery gut, & gal,
For vengeaunce breake away perforce, and spare no bloude at all:
If any lusty lyfe as yet within thy soule doe rest,
If ought of auncient corage still doe dwell within my brest,
Exile all foolysh Female feare, and pity from thy mynde,
And as th'untamed Tygers vse to rage and raue vnkynde,
That haunt the croking combrous Caues, and clumpred frosen cliues,
And craggy Rockes of Caucasus, whose bitter colde depryues
The soyle of all Inhabitours, permit to lodge and rest,
Such saluage brutish tyranny within thy brasen brest.
What euer hurly burly wrought doth Phasis vnderstand,
What mighty monstrous bloudy feate I wrought by Sea or Land:
The like in Corynth shalbe seene in most outragious guise,
Most hyddious, hatefull, horrible, to heare, or see wyth eyes,
Most diuelish, desperate, dreadfull deede, yet neuer knowne before,
Whose rage shall force heauen, earth, and hell to quake and tremble sore.
My burning breast that rowles in wrath, and doth in rancour boyle,
Sore thrysteth after bloud, and wounds with slaughter, death, & spoyle,
By renting racked lyms from lyms to driue them downe to graue:
Tush, these be but as Fleabytings, that mentioned I haue:
As weyghty things as these I did in greener girlishe age,
Now sorrowes smart doth rub the gall and frets with sharper rage.
But sith my wombe hath yeelded fruict, it doth mee well behoue,
The strength and parlous puissaunce of weightier illes to proue.
Be ready wrath, with all thy might that fury kindle may,
Thy foes to their destruction bee ready to assay:
Of thy deuorsement let the Pryce to match, and counterpayse
The proude & precious pryncely pomp of these new wedding dayes.
How wilt thou from thy spouse depart? as him thou followed hast
In bloud to bath thy bloudy handes and traytrous lyues to wast.
Breake of in time these long delayes, abanden now agayne,
This lewd alliaunce, got by guilt, with greater guilt refrayne.
Chorus altered by the Translatour.
Who hath not wist that windy words be vayne,
And that in talke of trust is not the grounde,
Heere in a mirrour may hee see it playne,
Medea so by proofe the same hath founde,
Who being blind by blinded Uenus Boy,
Her bleared Eyes could not beholde her blisse:
Nor spy the present poyson of her Ioy,
While in the grasse the Serpent lurked is,
The shaft that flew from Cupids golden bowe,
With feathers so hath dimd her daseld Eyes,
That cannot see to shun the way of woe:
The ranckling head in dented heart that lyes,
So dulles the same, that can not vnderstand
The cause that brought false Iason out of Greece,
To come vnto her fathers fertile Land,
Is not her loue, but loue of golden Fleece.
Yet was his speache so pleasaunt and so milde,
His tongue so filde, his promises so fayre,
Sweete was the fowlers Song that hath beguilde
The seely byrd, brought to the limed snare,
Faith, in his Face, trust shined in his Eyes,
The blushing brow playne meaning seemde to showe,
In double hearte blacke treason hydden lies,
Dissembling thoughts that weaue the webbe of woe.
The honyed Lyppes, the tongue in suger dept
Doe sweete the poyson rancke within the breast,
In subtle shew of paynted sheath is kept,
The rusty knife of treason deemed least:
Lyfe seemes the bayte to sight that lyeth brim,
Death is the hooke that vnderlies the same,
The Candell blase delights with burning trim,
The Fly, till shee bee burned in the flame.
Who in such showes least deemed any ills.
The hungry fyshe feares not the bayte to Brooke,
Till vp the lyne doe pluck him by the gylls,
And fast in throate hee feeles the deadly hooke.
Woe Iason, woe to thee most wretched man,
Or rather wretch Medea woe to thee,
Woe to the one that thus dissemble can,
Woe to the other that trayned so might bee.
Thoughtst thou Medea his eyes to bee the glasse,
Wherein thou might the Face of thoughts beholde?
That in his breast with wordes so couered was,
As cancred brasse with glosse of yealow golde?
Did thou suppose that nature (more then kinde)
Had placde his heart his lying lyppes betweene,
His lookes to be the mirrour of his minde?
Fayth in fayre Face hath sildome yet ben seene.
Who listneth to the flatering Maremaides note,
Must needes commit his tyred eyes to sleepe,
Yeelding to her the taking of his boate,
That meanes vnware to drowne him in the deepe,
What booteth thee Medea to betray
The golden Fleece, to fawning Iasons hande,
From Dragons teeth him safely to conuay,
And fyry Bulles the warders of the lande?
Why for his sake from father hast thou fled,
And thrust thy selfe out from thy natiue soyle?
Thy brothers bloud what ayled thee to shed,
With Iason thus to trauell and to toyle?
Beholde the meede of this thy good desarte,
The recompence that hee to thee doth gyue.
For pleasure, payne, for ioy, most eger smarte,
With clogging cares in banishment to liue.
Thou, and thy Babes, are like to begge and starue.
In Nation straunge, (O myserable lyfe)
Whyle Iason from his promyses doe swarue,
And takes delight in his new wedded Wyfe,
O Ground vngrate, that when the husband man
Hath tilled it, to recompence his toyle
No Corne, but Weedes, and Thystles render can,
To stinge his handes, that Fruict seekes of his Soyle.
Such venome growes of pleasaunt coloured flower:
Loe, Prynces loe, what deadly poyson sup
Of Bane, erst sweete, now turned into sower,
Medea dranke out of a goulden Cup,

THE SECOND ACTE.

Medea. Nutrix,
NV.
For godsake (Madame) I you pray your tongue to silence frame.
Eke hyde your priuy languishing and greefe in secret vayne:
Who with a modest minde abides the Spurs of pricking payne,
And suffereth sorrowes paciently, may it repay agayne.
Who beares a priuy grudge in breast, and keepes his malyce close,
When least suspection is thereof, may most annoy his Foes.
He leeseth oportunity who vengeaunce doth requyre,
That shewes by open sparkes the flame the heate of kindled fyre.

ME.
Small is the grype of griefe that can to reasons lore obay,
And sneking downe with stealing steps can slyly slip away.
But they that throughly sowsed are with showers of greater payne,
Can not digest such corsyes sharpe, but cast it vp agayne:
Fayne would I giue them trouncing girds.

NV.
Good daughter deare asswage
Th'unbrydled sway, and boyling heate of this thy gyddy rage:
Scant maist thou purchase quietnesse, although thou hold thy tongue.

ME.
The valiaunt heart dame Fortune yet durst neuer harme wt wrōg,
But dreading dastards downe she driues.

NV.
If any corage dure,
And harbred be in noble breast, now put the same in vre.

ME.
The show of sturdy valiant heart, at any time doth shyne.

NV.
No hope doth in aduersity thy way to scape assygne.

ME.
Hee that hath none affiaunce left, nor any hope at all,
Yet let him not mystrust the luck of ought that may befall.

NV.
Thy Countrey cleane hath cast thee of, to let thee sinke or swim,
As for thy husband Iason bee, there is no trust in him:
Of all the wealth, and worldly mucke wherewith thou didst abounde:
No porcion remaynes at all, whereby some helpe is founde.

ME.
Medea yet is left, (to much) and here thou mayst espy
The Seas to succour vs in flyght, and landes aloofe that ly:
Yea yron tooles, with burning brands we haue to worke them woe,
And Gods that with the thunder dint shall ouerquell our foe:

NV.
Who weares ye goldēcrested crowne him dred with awe yee should.

ME.
My Father was a King, yet I betrayed his Fleece of gould.

NV.
Can not the deadly vyolence of weapons make thee feare?

ME.
No, though such grisly Lads they were, as whilom did appeare.
That bred of gargell Dragons teeth in holow gaping grounde,
When mutually in bloudy fight eche other did confounde.

N.
Thē wilt thou cast thy self to death.

M.
Would God yt I were dead.

NV.
Fly, fly to saue thy life.

ME.
Woe worth the time that once I fled.

N.
What O Medea.

M.
Why shall I fly?

N.
A mother deere art thou,
Fly therefore for thy childrens sake.

ME.
Yee see by whom, and how,
A wretched Mother I am made.

NV.
Thy lyfe by flight to saue
Dost thou mistrust?

ME.
Nay, fly I will, but vengeaunce first ile haue.

NV.
Then some shall thee at heeles pursue, to wrecke the same agayne.

ME.
Perhap ile make his cōming short.

NV.
Be still, and now refrayne
O despret dame thy thundring threates, and slake your raging ire.
Apply, and frame thy froward will as time and tides requyre.

ME.
Full well may fortunes welting wheele to begging bring my state,
As for my worthy corage, that shee, neuer shall abate.
Who bowncing at the Gates, doth cause the creaking dores to Iar?
It is the wretch (Creon his selfe,) whom princely power far
Hath lift aloft, with lordly looke, puft vp with pouncing pryde,
That hee may Corinth countrey, with the sway of Scepter guide.

Creon. Medea.
ME.
My soueraygne liege, what greater crime haue I or lesse offence
Commit against thy maiesty, to be exiled hence?

CR.
Alas, the guiltlesse woman doth demaunde a reason why:

ME.
If thou be Iudge indifferent, ordaynde my cause to try,
Consider then my doubtfull case, and wey the ground of it:
If thou be king, cōmaund a Iudge for such a matter fit.

CR.
The princes powre thou shalt obey, b'it eyther right or wrong.

M.
The prosperous pryde of wronging crownes cannot endeuer long.

CR.
Auaunt, & yell out thy complaynts at Colchis, get thee hence.

ME.
Full gladly will I get mee home, if he that brought me thence,
Uouchsafe to beare me back agayne.

CR.
Alas, to late aryse
Entreating wordes, when as decree is taken otherwise.

ME.
He that not hearing eyther part, pronounceth his decree,
Unrighteous man accoumpted is, though ryght his sentence bee.

CR.
Whyle Pelias trusted to thy talke, from lyfe to death hee fell.
Go to, begyn, we gyue you leaue your goodly tale to tell.

ME.
That type of Regall maiesty, that erst by Fortunes hand,
Aduaunced to I dyd attayne, hath taught mee vnderstand,
How hard a thing it is of wrath the rygour to asswage,
When burning heate of boyling breast in flames begins to rage.
Eke for th'aduaūcement of their power more to display in sight
Theyr kingly corage bolstred out with maiesty of might.
They deeme it doth import asway, and hath a greater grace,
Whome stately scepter causde to climbe aloft to prouder place.
To perseuer with fansye fonde, in that to reasons spyght,
Whose greedy choyce attaynted fyrst his minde with vayne delight.
For though in piteous plyght I lye, throwne downe to great decay.
With heauy hap, and ruthfull chaunce, to myserable stay,
Thus hunted out from place to place, forsoke and left alone,
A wyddow while my husband liue, with cause to wayle and mone,
Perplext in maze of misery, wyth cloying cares so ryfe,
Yet whylom I in golden trone haue led in happy lyfe.
By high and noble parentage my bryght renowne doth shyne.
From Phœbus eake my Graundsire great deryued is my ligne.
Whear syluer streamed Phasis flood his wasshing waues doth shed,
Or with contrary croking wayes his bathing channell spred,
What euer wandring coast stretcht out is left aloofe behynde,
From whence the roaming Scithyan Sea his channell forth doth fynde,
Where as Mæotis fenny plashe with pure fresh water sprynges,
Doth season sweete the briny Sea, that tyde in thyther brynges.
Eke all the coastes enuyroned and kept within the bankes
Of Thermodon, where warlike troupes, & armed wyddowes ranckes,
With paynted bucklers on their armes holde all the land in feare,
With rigour rough of threatning sword, with force of denting speare.
So farre to all these wandring coastes and countreyes round about,
My Fathers ample regiment at large is stretched out.
I being thus of noble Race, and in an happy plight,
With glorious glosse of pryncely pomp in honour shining bright,
Then pearelesse Peares my Spousall bed did seeke and sue to haue,
But those to be theyr louing Feeres, now other Ladyes craue:
Rashe, ticle, peuish, vndiscreete, and wauering Fortunes wheele,
Hath cast me out, the crusshing cares of banishment to feele.
In Scepter proude and hauty Crowne fix thine affyaunce fast.
Sith vpsidowne with welkin wheele, whole mounts of wealth is cast.
This Prynces doe possesse, that should theyr royalty display,
Whose fame shall neuer razed be, with storme of lowring day,
To succour those whom misery in pit of paynes doth souse,
To shield and harber suppliaunts in roofe of loyall house.
This onely brought I from my Realme, the precious golden Fleece,
That Iewell chiefe, and eke the flower of Chyualry in Greece,
The sturdy prop, the Rampier strong the bulwarke of your wealth,
And Hercules the boystrous Imp of Ioue Ikept in health.
It was by meanes of my good will that Orpheus did escape,
Whose harmony the liuelesse Rocks with such delight did rape,
That forced euen the clottred lumpes with hobling prickt to praunce,
And eke the iocond nodding woods with footing fine to daunce.
And that those heauenly twins Castor, and Pollux did not dy,
My dew desart is doubled twise, sith them preserued I.
Of Boreas blustring out with puffed Cheekes, his blasting Breath,
His wynged Sons I kept aliue both Calais, and Zeath.
And Linceus, that with pearcing beames, and sharper sight of Eye,
Could Nauies on the farther banke of Sicill shore espy.
And all the Mynians that did come the golden Fleece to win.
As for the Prince of Princes all, I will not bring him in.
With silence Iason will I passe, for whom though him I saue,
Yet is not Greece in debt to mee, no recompence I craue.
To no man him I doe impute, the rest I brought agayne
For your auayle, that you thereby some profit might attayne.
But onely on my Iason deare, him for my owne loues sake
I kept in store, that hee of mee his wedded Wyfe should make.
None other fault (God wot) yee haue to charge mee with but this,
That Argo Ship by meanes of mee returned saufely is.
If I a shamefast mayde had not with Cupids bayte bene caught,
If more my Fathers health to haue then Iasons I had sought,
Pelasga land had bene vndone, and falne to great decay,
The lusty valiaunt Capitaynes, had cleane bene cast away:
And ioly Iason fyrst of all this now thy sonne in lawe,
The Buls had rent his swalowed lims in fiery chomping iawe.
Let Fortune fight agaynst my case as list her eluish will,
Yet neuer shall it grieue my heart, repent my deede I nill,
That I should for so many kings their reling honour saue,
The guerden due that I for this my crime commit must haue,
It lyeth Creon in thy hande, if thus it lyketh thee,
Condemne my guilty ghost lo death, but render fyrst to mee,
My fault that forced me offend, then Creon graunt I this,
Receauing Iason (cause of cryme) I guilty did amisse.
Thou knowst that I was such an one when couring low I lay,
Before thy feete in humble wise and did entreating pray,
Thy gracious goodnes mee to graunt some succour at thy hande.
For me a wreatch and wreatched Babes I aske within this lande
Some cotage base, in outcast hole, some couching corner vile,
If from the towne thou driue vs out to wander in exile,
Then some by place aloofe within this realme let vs obtayne.

CR.
How I am none that tyrant like with churlish Scepter raygne,
Nor proudly or disdaynfully, with hawty corage hie,
With vaūting foote doe stamp them downe that vndertroden lye,
And daunted are in carefull bale, thys playnly doth disclose,
In that to mee of late I such a sonne in lawe haue chose,
Who was a wandring pilgrim poore, with sore afflictions fraight,
Dismayde with terrour of his foe, that lay for him in wayght.
Because Acastus hauing got the crowne of Thessail lande,
Requyreth in thy guilty bloude to bath his wreackfull hande.
He doth bewayle that good olde man his feeble father slayne,
Whom waight of yeres with bowing back to stoupe alow constrayne
The godly mynded systers, all yblinde with misty vale
And cloking colour of thy craft durst ventrusly assayle.
That mount of myschiefe marueylous, to mangle heaw, and cut
Theyr Fathers dere vnioynted limmes in boyling Caldron put.
But for thy open guiltinesse if thou can purge the same,
Strayght Iason can discharge him selfe from blot of guilty blame.
His gentle handes were neuer staynde with goare of any bloude.
Aloofe from your conspyracie refrayning farre hee stoode.
His harmelesse handes put not in vre with goary tooles to mell.
But thou that setst on fyre fyrst these mighty mischiefes fell,
Whom shamelesse womans wily braine and manly stomack slout
Doe set a Gog, for to attempt to bring all us about.
And no regarde at all thou hast, how sounding trumpe of fame
With ringing blast of good or ill doe blowe abrode thy name:
Get out and clense my fyled realme, away together beare
Thyne hearbes vnmilde of sorcery, my Lyeges ryd fro feare.
Transporte thee to some other lande, whereas thou may at ease
With odious noyse of diuelish charme, the troubled Gods disease.

ME.
If needes thou wylt haue me auoyde, my shyp to mee restore,
Or els my mate with whom I fyrst aryued on this shore:
Why dost thou bid that by my selfe I onely should be gone?
I came not heather at fyrst wythout my company alone.
If this do thee aggryefe, that brunt of warres thou shalt sustayne,
Commaund vs both the cause thereof to shun thy realme agayne:
Sith both are guilty of one art, why dost thou part vs twayne?
For Iasons sake not for myne owne, poore Pelias was slayne.
Annex vnto my traytrous flight the conquerde booty braue,
My hoary headded naturall sler, whom I forsaken haue,
With brothers bloudy flesh that mangled was with caruing knife,
Or ought of Iasons forged lies he gabbes vnto his wyfe.
These dreary deedes are none of myne, so oft as I offend,
Not for myne owne cōmodity, to come thereby inthende.

CR.
Time is expierd, by which thou ought to haue bene gone away,
Wyth keeping such a chat, why dost thou make so long delay?

ME.
Yet of thy bounty ere I goe, this one boone will I craue.
Although the mother banished, so sore offended haue,
Let not the vengeaunce of my fault through wrathfull deadly hate,
Myne innocent and guiltlesse Babes torment in wreached state.

CR.
Away: with louing friendly grype thy children I embrace,
And as a father naturall take pity on theyr case.

ME.
Euen for the prosperous good encreace of fertill spousall bed,
Of Glauce bright thy Daughter deare, whom Iason late hath wed.
And by the hope of fruictfull seede, whose flowre in time shall bloome.
By th'onour of thy glystring crowne, ythralde to fortunes doome,
Whych shee so full of chop and chaunge, with ticle turning wheele
Whirls vp and downe, in staggring state makes to and fro to reele.
I thee beseech, sith to exile I am departing now
O Creon but a little pawse for mercy mee alow,
Whyle of my mourning brats with kysse, my last farewell I take.
Whyle gaspe of fayling breath perhap my shyuering lyms forsake.

CR.
With craft entending some deceipt thou crauest this delay.

ME.
What falshode for so little time be cause of terrour may?

CR.
No tot of time is short ynough displeasure to preuent.

ME.
Can not one iot to weeping Eyes, and trylling teares be lent?

CR.
Although agaynst thy ernest suite vnlucky dread do stryue,
One day to settle thee away, content I am to gyue.

ME.
This is to much, and of the same somwhat abrydge yee may.

CR.
Make speede apace if from our land thou get thee not away,
Ere Phœbus horse with golden gleede theyr streaming beames doe shed,
Of dawning lampe, thou art condemde to leese thy wretched hed.
The holy day, and brydall both doe call me hence away:
And wils mee at the sacred aare of Hymeneus to pray.

Chorus.

Lauish of life and dreadlesse was the wyght,
Attempting fyrst in slender tottring Barge
Wyth sliuing Ore the slyced waue to smyte,
And durst commit the dainty tender charge
Of hazered life to inconstant course of wynde,
That turnes with chaunge of chaunces euermore,
To vew the land forsooke aloofe behynde,
And shoouing forthe the Ship fro safer shore,
And glauncing through the fomy Channell deepe
On sunder cut with slender Stemme the waue,
Twixt hope of lyfe, and dread of death to sweepe,
In narrow gut him selfe to spill or saue:
Experience yet of Planets no man had,
They needed not the wandring course to knowe
Of Starres, (wherewith the paynted sky is clad,)
Not Pleiads, (which returne of sayling show)
Nor Hyads (that with showrs the Seas doe beate)
No nor the sterne Amaltheas horned head
(Who gaue the lyppes of sucking Ioue the Teate)
Were wont to put the blundering ships in dread.
They feared not the northerne Isy wayne,
Whych lazy olde bootes wieldes behinde,
And twynes about, no name yet could they fayne
For Boreas rough, nor smother western wynde.
Yet Typhys bould on open seas durst show
His hoysted sayles, and for the wyndes decree
New lawes: as now full gale aloofe to blow,
Now tackle turnde to take syde wynde alee,
Now vp to farle the crossayle on the mast,
There safe to hang, the topsayle now to spred,
Now missel sayle, and drabler out to cast,
VVhen dagling hanges his shottring tackle red
VVhyle stearsman stur, and busye neuer blin,
VVith pyth to pull all sayles eke to display,
VVith tooth and nayle all foree of winde to wyn,
To sheare the seas, and quick to scud awaye.
The golden worlde our fathers haue possest,
VVhere banysht fraude durst neuer come in place,
All were content to liue at home in rest
VVith horye head, gray beard, and furrowed face.
VVhych tract of time within his countrey brought.
Riche hauing lytle, for more they did not toyle,
No vente for wares, nor Traficque far they sought,
No wealth that sprange beyond theyr natiue soyle,
The Thessail shyp together now hath set,
The Thessail ship together now hath set,
The Worlde that well with Seas disseuered lay,
It biddes the flouds with Oares to be bet,
And streames vnknowen with shipwrack vs to fray
That wicked Keele was lost by ruthfull wrack
Ytossed through such perylles passing great,
Where Cyanes Rocks gan rore as thunder crack,
Whose bouncing boult the shaken soyle doth beat.
The sowsing Surges dasshed euery starre,
The pesterd seas the cloudes aloft berayde,
This scuffling did bould TYPHIS minde detarre,
Hys helme did slip from trembling hande dismayde.
Then ORPHEVS with his drowping Harp was mum
Dead in her dumpes the flaunting ARGOS glee,
All husht in rest with silence wexed dum,
What hardy heart astound heere would not bee?
To see at once eche yawning mouth to gape,
Of Syllas gulph compact in wallowing paunch,
Of dogges, who doth not loth her mongrell shape,
Her visage, breast, and hyddeous vgly haunch:
Whom erketh not the scoulde with barking still?
To here the Mermaydes dyre who doth not quayle,
That lure the Eares with pleasaunt singing shrill
Of such as on Ausonius Sea doe sayle:
When ORPHEVS on his twanckling Harpe did play,
That earst the Muse Calliop gaue to him
Almost those Nymphes that wonted was to stay
The shyps, he causd fast following him to swim.
How deerely was that wicked iourney bought?
MEDEA accurst, and eke the golden Fleece,
That greater harme then storme of seas hath wrought
Rewarded well that voyage first of Greece.
Now seas controulde doe suffer passage free,
The Argo proude erected by the hand
Of PALLAS first, doth not complayne that shee,
Conueyde hath back, the kynges vnto theyr land
Eche whirry boate now scuddes aboute the deepe,
All stynts and warres are taken cleane away,
The Cities frame new walles themselues to keepe,
The open worlde lettes nought rest where it lay:
The Hoyes of Ind Arexis lukewarme leake,
The Perseans stout in Rhene and Albis streame
Doth bath their Barkes, time shall in fine out breake
When Ocean waue shall open euery Realme.
The wandring World at will shall open lye.
And TYPHIS vvill some nevve founde Land suruay
Some trauelers shall the Countreys farre escrye,
Beyonde small Thule, knovven furthest at this day.

THE THIRD ACTE.

Nutrix. Medea.
ME.
O wretch if thou desire,
What measure ought to payse thy wrath then learne by Cupids fire,
To hate as sore as thou didst loue, shall I not them anoy
That doe vnite in spousall bed, theyr wanton lust t'enioy?
Shall Phœbus fiery footed horse goe lodge in western waue
The drowping day, that late I did with humble crowching craue,
And with such ernest busie suite so hardly graunted was?
Shall it depart ere I can bring my deuylish dryst to passe?
Whyle houering heauen doth counterpaysed hang with egall space,
Amid the marble Hemispheares, whyle rounde with stinted race,
The gorgeous Sky aboue the Earth doth spinning roll about,
Whyles that the number of the sandes, lyes hid vnserched out,
While dawning day doth keepe his course with Phœbus blase so bright,
While twinkling starres in golden traynes doe garde the slūbry nyght,
While Isle vnder propping poale with whyrling swyng so swift,
The shyning Beares vnbathde about the frosen Sky doe lift,
While flushing floudes the frothy streames to rustling Seas doe send,
To gird them gript with plonging pangues my rage shall neuer end.
With greater heate it shall reboyle, lyke as the brutishe beast,
Whose tyranny most horrible, exceedeth all the rest,
What greedy gaping whyrle poole wide what parlous gulph vnmilde,
What Sylla coucht in roring Rockes, or what Charybdes wylde,
(That Sicill, and Ionium Sea by frothy waues doth sup)
What Ætna bolking stifling flames, and dusky vapours vp,
(Whose heauy payse wt stewing heate doth smoldring crush beneath
Encelades, that fiery flakes from choked throte doth breath)
Can with such dreadfull menaces in sweeting fury fry?
No ryuer swift no troubled surge of stormy Sea so hye,
Nor sturdy seas (whom ruffling winds with raging force to rore)
Nor puissaunt flash of fyre, whose might by boystrous blast is more,
May byde my angers violence: my fury shall it foyle:
His court Ile ouer hourle, and lay it leauell with the soyle.
My Iasons heart did quake for feare of Creon cruell king.
And least the king of Thessaly would warre vpon him bring.
But loyall loue that hardens hearts makes no man be afright.
But beete, that he conuict hath yeelde himselfe to Creons might.
Yet once hee might haue visited, and come to me his wyfe,
To talke, and take his last farewell, if daunger of his life
In doing this (hard harted wretch most cruell) he should feare,
He being Creons sonne in law, for him it lefull were,
To haue proroged somwhat yet my heauy banishment,
To take my leaue of chyldren twayne one onely day is lent:
Yet doe I not complayne, as though the time to short I thought,
As proofe shall playne pronounce, to day, to day, it shall bee wrought,
The memory whereof no tract of time shall wype away.
With malice bent agaynst the Gods my wrath shall them assay:
And rifling euery thing, both good, and bad, I will turmoyle.

NV.
Madame thy minde that troubled is, and tost with such abroyle
Of swarming ills, thy vexed breast now set at rest agayne,
The peuish fond affections all of troubled mynde refrayne.

ME.
Then onely can I be at rest, when euery thing I see
Throwne headlong topsie turuey downe to ruthfull ende with mee.
With mee let all things cleane decay: thy selfe if thou doe spill,
Thou maist driue to destruction what els with thee thou will:

NV.
If in this folly stiffe thou stand, beholde what after clappes
Are to bee fearde, none dare contriue for Prynces trayning trappes.

Iason. Medea.
ME.
I packing, packing, Iason am: this still to chop, and chaunge
The fleeting soyle of my abode, to mee it is not straunge.
The cause of my departure yet (to me is straung) and new.
I wonted was in followinge thee all places to eschew:
I will depart, and get me hence, to whom for helping hande
Entendest thou to sende vs forth, whom hence to fly the land
Thou dost compell with thine alies? shall I repayre agayne
To Phasis flood, to Colchis Isle, or to my fathers raygne?
Or goary sweeting fieldes, that with my brothers blood do reeke?
What harbring lands aloofe dost thou commaund vs out to seeke?
What seas appoint yee me to passe? shall I my iourney dryue,
Uppon the parlous hatefull iawes of Pontus to arriue,
By which I did saufe conduct home kings valiaunt armies great,
Where rearing rocks with thundring noise the flapping waues do beate
Or on the narrow wrackfull shore, of Simplegades twayne?
Or els to small Hiolcos towne can I retourne agayne?
Or toyle, the gladsome pleasaunt lands of Tempe to attayne?
All places that I opened haue vnto thy passage free,
I shut them vp agaynst my selfe, now whether sendste thou mee?
A banisht wretch to banishment thou wouldest haue encline,
Yet to the place of her exyle, thou canst not her assygne,
Yet for all that without delay I must depart and go:
And why? forsoth the king his sonne in law commaundeth so.
Well: nothing will I stand against, with grypes of passing payne
Let me be scourgde, of my desarts such is the gotten gayne.
Let Creon in his pryncely ruffe lay to his heauy handes,
To whyp an whore in torments sharp, with iron giues, and bandes
Let her be chaynd, in hydeous hole of night for aye her locke:
Let her be cloyed with pestring payse of restlesse rowling rocke.
Yet lesse than I deserued haue, in all this shall I finde:
O thou vncurteous Gentleman, consider in thy mynde
The flamy puffes, and firy gaspes of gastly gaping bull,
And Ætas catell rych with Fleece of gorgeous golden wooll,
That went to graze amid so great and mighty feares in fielde,
Of vncontrouled Natton, whose soyle doth armies yeelde.
Reuoke to minde the deadly dartes of sodayne starting foe,
When gastly warriour (Tellus broode) to ground agayne did goe,
Through slaughter red of mutuall launce, to this yet further passe,
The lurched Fleece of Phrixes Ramme, that all thine errand was.
And vgsome Argos slumberlesse, whom fast I causde to keepe
His wery watching winking eyes with vnaquaynted sleepe.
My brother eke, whose fatall twist of feeble lyfe I shred,
And guilt that wrought so many guiltes when as with thee I fled.
The daughters whom I set on worke entrapt in wily trayne,
To slay theyr sire, that shall not ryse to quickned lyfe agayne.
And how to trauell other realmes, I set myne owne at nought.
By that good hope which of thy seede conceaued is in thought,
Eake by thy stable Mansion place, and mighty monsters, that
Downe beaten for thy health, I causde before thy feete to squat,
And by these drudging hands of myne vnspared for thy sake,
For dread of daungers ouer past that caused thee to quake,
By heauens aboue, and seas belowe, that witnesse bearers bee,
To knitting of out maryage vp, thy mercy vayle to mee.
Of all the heapes of treasure great so farre of being set,
Which Ætas sauage Scythians dyd trauell for to get,
From Ind, where Phœbus scorching blase doth dye the people blacke.
Of all this golde which in our bowers wee coulde not well compacke.
But tricke and trym wee garnished our groues with golde so gay,
I vanisht wretch of all this stuffe gat nought with mee away,
Except my brothers slaughtred flesh, yet I employed the same
On thee: the cares of countreyes health, my honesty and shame.
My Father, and my brother both hath yeelded place to thee,
This is the dowry that thou had my wedded spouse to bee.
To her whom thou dost abrogate restore her goods agayne.

IA.
When Creon in malicious moode had thought thee to haue slayne,
Entreated with my teares, exyle and life he gaue to thee.

ME.
I tooke it for a punishment, but surely as I see
This banishment is now become a friendly good rewarde.

IA.
While thou hast time to goe, be gone, for most seueare, and harde
The kings displeasure euer is.

M.
Thus wouldst thou dodge mee out?
Thy hated trull cast of thou dost, that please Creuse thou mought.

IA.
Dost thou Medea vpbrayde mee with the breach vnkynde of loue?

ME.
And slaughter vyle, with trechery, whereto thou didst mee moue.

IA.
When all is done what canst thou say my guiltines to slayne?

ME.
Euen whatsoeuer I haue done.

IA.
Yet more this doth remayne:
That thy vngracious wickednes of harme should mee accuse.

ME.
Thine, thine, they are, they are all thine what euer I did vse,
Who that of lewdnesse reapes the fruict, is grafter of the same.
Let euery one with infamy thy wretched Spouse defame,
Yet doe thou onely take her part, her onely doe thou call
A iust and vndefiled wight, without offence at all.
If any man shall for thy sake polute his hand with ill,
To thee let him an innocent yet be accompted still,

IA.
The life is lothsome that doth worke his shame who hath it chose.

ME.
The life whose choyse doth worke thy shame thou ought againe to lose.

IA.
Let reason rule thy eger mynde so vext with crabbed ire,
And for thy tender childrens ease to bee at rest requyre.

ME.
I doe defy it, wholy I detest it, I forsweare,
That bretheren bred vnto my barnes Creusas wombe shall beare.

IA.
It will be trim, when as a Queene of maiesty and myght
Hath issue, kinne vnto the seede of thee a banisht wight.

ME.
So cursed day shall neuer on my wretched children shine,
To mingle base borne basterdes with the bloud of noble Lygne.
Shall Phœbus stocke (that beares the lamp of heauen in starry throne)
Be macht with drudging Sisiphus that roules in hell the stone?

IA.
What meanest thou wretch, both thee & mee in banishment to yoke?
I pray then hence.

ME.
When humbly I my mynde to Creon broke,
Hee gaue an eare vnto my suite.

IA.
What lyeth in my myght
To doe for thee?

ME.
If no good turne, then doe thy worst dispyght.

IA.
On this side with his swerd in hand king Creon doth mee scarre:
On other part with armed hoast Acast doth mee detarre.

ME.
Medea eke to coape with these, that more apaull vs may:
Go to, to skyrmishe let vs fall, let Iason be the pray:

IA.
I yeelde whom sore aduersities haue tyerd with heauy sway.
Learne thou to dred thy luclesse lot that ofte doth thee assay.

ME.
I euermore haue rulde the swinge of fortunes wauering will.

IA.
Achastus is at hand, and nygh is Creon thee to spyll:

ME.
Take thou thy heeles to scape them both, I doe not thee aduise,
That thou agaynst thy father in lawe in traytrous armes should ryse.
Nor in Achast thy cosens bloud thy wounding handes to gore,
The vowes vnto Medea made, doe trouble thee so sore.
Whyle yet thou hast not spilt there bloud, yet fly with mee away.

IA.
When armies twayne their banners of defiance shall display,
And marching forth in fielde to fyght seeke battayle at my hande,
Who then for vs encounter shall their puissaunce to withstand?

ME.
If Creon and Achastus king encampe together shall
Admit that these in one with them should ioyne their powers all
My Countreymen of Colchis Ile, and Ætas lusty kyng,
Suppose the Scythians ioyne with Greekes, to ground I will thē bring,
Cleane put to foile.

IA.
The puissaunt power of hawty mace I feare.

ME.
Take heede, least more thou do affect the same, then for to cleare,
Thy selfe of Creons seruile yoke.

IA.
Least some suspicion grow,
Of this our tatling long here let vs make an ende and goe.

ME.
Now Ioue hurle out thy flames & force thy thundring bolts to fly,
With fiery drakes bright brandishing disparst in burning sky:
Strayne forth thy dreadfull threatning arme, dispose in due aray
The tossing dint of lightning flashe, that wrecke our quarrell may.
With rumbling cracke of renting cloud cause all the world to quake,
And leuell not thy houering hand to stryke with firy flake
Uppon my pasht and crushed corpes, or Iasons Carcasse slayne:
For whether of vs thou smight to death his due rewarde shall gayne,
Thy thumps of thwacking boltes on vs amisse they cannot light.

IA.
Fy, let thy mynde on matters runne that seeme a modest wight.
And vse to haue more cheerefull talke, if any thing thou craue,
Within my fathers house to ease thy flyght, thou shalt it haue.

ME.
Thou knowst my minde both can, & eke is wont, to doe no lesse,
Then to contemne the brittell wealth that Prynces doe possesse.
This, this shalbe the onely boone that at thy hande I craue,
As mates with me in banishment, my children let mee haue,
That resting on theyr sighing breastes my carefull mourning hed,
I may my chrystall teary streames into theyr bosomes shed.
But as for thee, new gotten sonnes of wife new wed doe stay.

IA.
I graunt that vnto thy request I wishe I might obey:
But nature mee with pity pryckes, that needes I must deny.
For though both Creon and Achast, in torments force mee lye,
I could not yeelde vnto theyr willes: on this my lyfe doth rest:
In times of teares, this is the ioy of dull afflicted brest
For better farre I can abyde the wante of vitall breath,
And succour of my lymmes, or loose, the light of worlde by death.

ME.
What loue vnto his seely Babes is deeply graft in him?
This worketh well I haue him tript, loe now there lyeth brim.
An open place whereby receaue a venny soone hee may.
Let mee or I departe, vnto my seely children say.
These lessons of my last adewe, and graunt to mee the space,
With tender grype of colling last theyr louing limmes t'embrace:
This wilbe comforte to my heart: yet at the latter woorde
I aske no more but onely that you shoulde mee this afoorde.
If eger anguish cause my tongue to cast out woords vnkinde,
Let all thing fly, let nothing be engraued in your minde
But let remembraunce otherwhyle of mee to touch your thought,
Let other thinges be wypte away that byle of wrath hath wrought.

IA.
I haue forgotten euery whit God graunt thou may of shake,
These surging qualmes of frounced minde & milder mayste it make:
For quietnesse doth worke theyr ease that dented are with woe:

ME.
What is he slily slypt and gon? falles out the matter so?
O Iason dost thou sneake away, not hauing minde of mee,
Nor of those former great good turnes that I haue done for thee?
With thee now am I cleane forgot: but I will bryng about
That from thy carefull sighing minde shall not bee banisht out:
Apply to bring this to effect, call home thy wits agayne,
And all thy wyly fetches farre, eache artificiall trayne.
This is the perfect fruict that may to thee of mischiefe spryng,
To presuppose that mischiefe is not graft in any thing.
Scant haue I oportunity for my pretensed guile,
Because wee are mistrusted sore: but try I will the whyle
To set vpon them in such sort, as none can deeme my sleyght:
March forth, now venture on, fall to, both what lyeth in thy myght,
And also what doth passe thy power. O faythfull nourse and mate
Of all my heauy heart breaking, and dyuers cursed fate.
Come help our simple meane deuice. Remayning yet I haue
A robe of Pall the present that our heauenly Graundsire gaue,
Chiefe monument of Cholchis Ile, which Phœbus did bestow
On Ætas for a pledge, that him his father he might know.
A precious fulgent gorget eake, that brauely glytters bryght,
And with a seemely shyning seame of golden thryds is dight,
Through wrought betwene the row of pirles doe stand in borders roūd,
Wherewith my golden crispen Locks is wonted to be croūd.
My lytle children they shall beare these presents to the Bryde,
That first with slibber slabbar sosse of chauntments shalbe tryde.
Request the ayde of Hecate in redinesse prepare
The lamentable sacrifice, vpon the bloudy Aare.
Enforce the fiers catching holde vpon the rafters hye
With crackling noyse of flamy sparkes rebound in azur sky.

Chorus.

No fiers force, nor rūbling rage of boistrus blustring winde,
No dart shot whirling in the skies, such terrour to ye minde
Can driue, as when ye ireful wife doth boile in burning hate
Depriued of her spousall bed, and comfort of her mate,
Nor where the stormy southerne winde with dankish dabby face,
Of hoary winter sendeth out the gusshing showres apace.
Where veighment Isters waumbling streame comes waltring downe amayne,
Forbidding both the banks to meete, & cannot oft contayne
Him selfe within his channels scoupe, but further breakes his way,
Nor Rodanus whose russhing streame doth launch into the sea,
Or when amid the floured spring with hotter burning sunne,
The winters snowes disolude with heate downe to the ryuers runne:
The clottred top of Haemus hill to water thin doth turne,
Such desperate gogin flame is wrath that inwardly doth burne,
And modest rule regardeth not, nor brydeis can abyde,
Nor dreading death, doth wish on dinte of naked blade to slyde.
O Gods be gracious vnto vs, for pardon we do craue,
That him who tamde the scuffling waues, vouchsafe yee would to saue.
But Neptune yet the Lord of Seas with frowning face will lower,
That ouer his second Scepter men to tryumph haue the power.
The boy that rashly durst attempt that great vnweldy charge
Of Phœbus euerlasting Carte, and rouing out at large,
Not bearing in his recklesse breast his fathers warnings wyse,
Was burned with the flames which hee did scatter in the Skyes.
None knew the costly glimsing glades, where straggling Phaëton rode,
Passe not the path, where people safe in former tyme haue trode.
O fondling, wilfull, wanton boy, doe not dissolue the frame
Of heauen, sith Ioue with sacred hand hath halowed the same.
Who rowde with valiaunt Oares tough, that were for Argo made,
Hath powled naked Pelion mounte of thycke compacted shade.
Who entred hath the fleeting rockes and serched out the toyle
And tyring trauels of the seas, and hath on saluage soyle
Knit fast his stretched Cable rope, and going forth to land.
To cloyne away the forren golde with greedy snatching hand.
Unto the seas (because that hee transgrest theyr lawes deuine)
By this vnlucky ende of his, he payes his forfeyte fine.
The troubled seas of theyr vnrest for vengeaunce howle and weepe.
Syr Typhis who did conquer fyrst the daunger of the deepe,
Hath yeelded vp the cunning rule of his vnweldy sterne,
To such a guide, as for that vse hath neede as yet to learne.
Who giuing vp his Ghost aloofe from of his natiue lande,
In forreyn more lyes buryed vile with durty soddes in sande.
He sits among the flittring soules that straungers to him weare.
And Aulis Isle that in her minde her masters losse doth beare,
Held in the Ships, to stand and wayle in croking narrow nooke:
That Orpheus Calliops sonne who stayde the running Brooke,
Whyle he recordes on heauenly Harpe with twanckling finger fine,
The wynde layde downe his pipling blastes: his harmony diuine
Procurde the woods to styr them selues, and trees in traynes along
Came forth with byrds that held their layes and listned to his song.
With lims on sunder rent in fielde of Thrace he lyeth dead.
Up to the top of Heber floude, eke haled was his head.
Gone downe he is to Stygian dampes, which scene hee had before,
And Tartar boyling pits, from whence returne hee shall no more.
Alcydes banging bat did bringe the Northern laddes to grounde.
To Achelo of sundry shapes he gaue his mortall wounde.
Yet after he could purchase peace both vnto sea and land,
And after Ditis dungeon blacke rent open by his hand,
He lyuing spred himselfe along on burning Oetas hill:
His members in his proper flame the wretch did thrust to spill:
His bloud he brewd with Nestors bloud, and lost his lothsome lyfe
By traytrous gyft that poysoned shyrt receaued of his wyfe.
With tuske of bristled groyning Bore Anceus lyms were torne.
O Meleagar (wicked wight) to graue by thee were borne
Thy mothers brethren twayne, and shee, for it with ruthfull hand,
Hath wrought thy dolefull desteny, to burne thy fatall brand.
The rash attempting Argonantes deserued all the death
That Hylas whom Alcides lost bereft of fading breath.
That springall which in sowsing waues of waters drowned was:
Goe now yee lusty bloudes, the Seas: with doubtfull lot to passe.
Though Idmon had the calking skyll of destenies before,
The serpent made him leaue his lyfe in tombe of Liby shore.
And Mopsus that to other men could well theyr fates escry,
Yet onely did deceyue him selfe vncertayne where to dy,
And he that could the secret hap of things to come vnfoulde,
Yet dyde not in his countrey Thebes. Dame Thetis husband oulde
Did wander like an outlawde man. Our Palimedes syre
Did headlong whelm him selfe in seas. Who at the Greekes retyre
From Troy, to rushe on rockes did them alure with wily light,
Stout Aiax Oleus did sustayne the dint of thunder bright,
And cruell storme of surging seas, to quite the haynous guilt,
That by his countrey was commit, in seas he lyeth spilt.
Alceste to redeeme her husbands Phereus lyfe from death,
The godly Wyfe vpon her spouse bestowed her panting breath.
Proude Pelias that wretch him selfe who bad them first assay
The golden Fleece that booty braue by ship to fetch away,
Perboylde in glowing cauldron hoate with feruent heate hee fryes,
And fleeting peece meale vp and downe in water thin he lyes.
Inough, inough, reuenged are O Gods the wronges of seas,
Be good to Iason, doing that hee did, his Game to please.

THE FOVRTH ACTE.

Nutrix.
My shiuering minde amazed is, agast, and sore dismayde:
My chillish lims with quaking colde do tremble all afrayde.
Such plagues & vengeāce is at hand, in what exceding wise
Do sharp assaults of greedy griefe still more & more arise,
And of it selfe in smothering breast enkindlesse greater heate?
Oft haue I seene how ramping rage hath forced her to freate.
With franticke fits, mad, bedlem wise, against the Gods to rayle,
And eke bewitched ghosts of heauen in plunging plagues to trayle:
But now Medea beates her busie brayne to bring to passe
A myschiefe greater, greater farre, then euer any was.
Erewhile when hence she tript away astonished so sore,
And of her poyson closset close shee entred had the dore:
Shee powreth out her Iewels all, abrode to light shee brings
That which she dreading lothed long, most irksome vgly things:
She mumbling coniures vp by names of ills the rable rout,
In hugger mugger cowched long, kept close, vnserched out:
All pestlent plagues she calles vpon, what euer Libie lande,
In frothy boyling stream doth worke, or muddy belching sande:
What tearing torments Taurus breedes, with snowes vnthawed still
Where winter flawes, and hory knit hard the craggy hill,
She layes her crossing hands vpon each monstrous coniurde thing,
And ouer it her magicke verse with charming doth she sing:
A mowsie, rowsie, rusty route with cancred Scales Iclad
From musty, fusty, dusty dens where lurked long they had,
Doe craull: a wallowing serpent huge, his cōbrous Corps out drags,
In fiery foming blaring mouth his forked tongue hee wags.
He stares about with sparkling eyes, if some he might espy,
Whom snapping at with stinging spit he might constrayne to dy:
But hearing once the magycke verse he husht as all a gast,
His body boalne big, wrapt in lumps on twining knots hee cast.
And wambling to and fro his tayle in linkes he rowles it round.
Not sharp enough (quoth she) the plagues & tooles that hollow groūd
Engenders for my purpose are, to heauen vp will I call,
To reach me stronger poyson down, to frame my feate with all.
Now is it at the very poynt, Medea thou assay,
To bring about some farther fetch, then common Witches may.
Let downe, let downe, that sprawling Snake that doth his body spred,
As doth a running brooke abroade his myghty channell shed.
Whose swelling knobs of wondrous sise & boystrous bobbing bumpes
Doth thumpe the great & lesser beare that feele his heauy lumpes.
The bygger beare with golden gleede the greekish fleete doth guyde:
But by the lesse the Sidon ships their passage haue espide.
He that with pinch of griping fist doth bruse the adders twayne,
His strening hard & clasping hande, let him vnknit agayne.
And crushe their squeased venome out, come further thou our charme
O slymy serpent Python, whom Dame Iuno sent to harme
Diana, and Apollo both, (those heauenly spyrites twayne)
With whom Latona traueling did grone with pynching payne.
O Hydra whom in Lerna poole Alcides gaue the foyle,
And all the noysome vermen vyle that Hercules did spoyle.
Which when on sunder they were cut with slysing deadly knyfe,
Can knit agayne their sodred partes, and so recouer lyfe.
Help wakefull Dragon Argos, whom first magicke wordes of myne
Made Morpheus locke thy sleepy liddes, and shut thy slugring eyne.
Then hauing brought aboue the ground of Serpents all the rout,
Of filthy weedes the ranckest bane shee pyckes, and gathers out,
That spryng on knotty Eryx hill where passage none is founde,
Among the ragged Rockes, or what on Caucasus his grounde
Doth grow that still is clad in Coate of hoary moary frost.
That euermore vnmelt abydes, whose spattred fylde is soste
With gubbs of bloud, yt spowteth from Prometheus gaping maw,
Whose guts with twitching talent out the gastly gripe doth draw.
Or any other venemous herbe amonge the Medes that growes,
That with their sheafe of arowes sharp in field do scare their foes.
Or what the light held Parthian to serue her turne can sende,
Or els the rych Arabians, that dyp theyr arrowes ende
In poyson strong: the iuyce of all Medea out doth wrynge,
That vnderneath the frosen poale in Svveuia land doth sprynge.
Whose noble state Hircinus woode doth high enhaunce and reare,
Or what the pleasaunte soyle doth yeelde in pryme of smiling veare,
When nature byddes the byrd begin her shrowding nest to builde,
Or when the churlyshe Boreas blast sharpe winter hath exilde,
The trym aray of braunche and bough to cloth the naked tree,
And euery thinge with bitter coulde of Snowe congealed bee.
In any pestilent flower on stalke of any hearbe doth growe,
Or noysome ioyce doth lye in rotten wrythen rootes alowe,
Hath any force in breading bane, those takes shee in her hande.
Some plaugy hearbes did Athos yeelde that mount of Thessayle lande.
And other Pindus roches hye and some vppon the top
Of Pingeus, but tender twigges the cruell Sythe did lop:
These Tigris ryuer norisht vp, that choakes his whyrlpoale deepe
With stronger streame. Danubius those in fostring waue did keepe.
Those did Hidaspus mynister, who by the parching zone
With lukewarme siluer channell runnes, so rych with precious stone.
And Bethis sonne, who gaue the name vnto his countrey great,
And with his shallowe soarde agaynst the Spanyshe seas doth beat
This hearbe aboade the edge of knyfe in dawning of the day
Ere Phœbus Face gan peepe, bedect with glittring goulden spray
His slender stalke was snepped of in deepe of silent nyght,
His corne was cropt, whyle she wt charme her poysned nayles did dight.
Shee chops the deadly hearbes, & wrings the squesed clottered bloud
Of Serpentes out: and filthy byrdes of irkesome miry mud:
She tempers with the fame and eake: she brayes the heart of Owle
Foreshewing death with glaring Eyes, and moaping Uysage foule,
Of shryke Owle hoarce alyue she takes the durty stinking guts,
All these the framer of this feate in dyuers percels puts.
This hath in it deuouring force of greedy spoyling flame,
The frosen ysie dulling coulde engenders by the same.
Shee chauntes on those the magicke verse, that workes no lesser harme,
With bustling frantickely shee stampes, and ceaseth not to charme.
MEDEA.
O flittring Flockes of grisly ghostes that sit in silent seat
O ougsome Bugges, O Gobblins grym of Hell I you intreat:
O lowryng Chaos dungeon blynde, and dreadfull darkned pit,
Where Ditis muffled vp in Clowdes of blackest shades doth sit,
O wretched wofull wawling soules your ayde I doe implore,
That linked lye with gingling Chaynes on wayling Limbo shore,
O mossy Den where death doth couche his gastly carrayne Face:
Relesse your pangues, O spryghts, and to this wedding hye apace.
Cause yee the snaggy wheele to pawse that rentes the Carkas bound,
Permit Ixions racked Lymmes to rest vpon the ground:
Let hungry bytten Tantalus wyth gawnt and pyned panche
Soupe vp Pirenes gulped streame his swelling thyrst to staunche.
Let burning Creon byde the brunt and gyrdes of greater payne,
Let payse of slyppery slyding stone type ouer backe agayne
His moylyng Father Sisyphus, amonges the craggy Rockes.
Yee daughters dyre of Danaus whom perced Pychers moyckes
So oft with labour lost in vayne this day doth long for you
That in your lyfe with bloudy blade at once your husband slewe.
And thou whose aares I honored haue, O torch and lampe of night,
Approche O Lady myne with most deformed vysage dight:
O three folde shapē Dame that knitst more threatning browes then one,
According to the countrey guise with dagling locks vndone
And naked foote, the secrete groue about I halowed haue,
From dusky dry vnmoysty cloudes the showers of rayne I craue.
Through me the chinked gaping ground the soked seas hath drunk.
And mayner streame of th'ocian floud beneath the earth is sunk,
That swelteth out through hollow gulph with stronger gushing rage.
Then were his suddy wambling waues whose power it doth asswage
The heauens with wrong disturbed course and out of order quight,
The darkned sonne, & glimmering stars at once hath shewed theyr light,
And drēched Charles his stragling wayne hath ducie in dasshing waue,
The framed course of roaming time racte out of frame I haue.
So my enchauntments haue it wrought, that when the flaming sunne
In sommer bakes the parched soyle then hath the twigges begunne,
With sprowting blossom fresh to blome, and hasty winter corne
Hath out of haruest seene the fruite to barnes on suddein borne.
Into a shallowe foorde his shure distreame hath Phasis wast,
And Isters channell being in so many braunches cast,
Abated hath his wrackfull waues, on euery silent shore
He lyeth calme: The tumbled flouds with thundring noyse did rore,
When couched close the windes were not mouing pippling soft,
With working waue the prauncing seas haue swolne & leapt aloft,
Whereas the wood in alder time with thicke and braunched bowe
Did spread his shade on gladsome soyle no shade remayneth now.
I rolling vp the magicke verse at noone time Phœbus stay.
Amyd the darkned Sky, when fled was light of drowsy day.
Eke at my charme the watry flockes of Heyæds went to glade.
Time is it Phœba to respect the seruice to thee made:
To thee with cruell bloudy hands these garlands greene were twynde
Which with his folding circles nyne the serpent rough did bynde.
Haue here Tiphoias fleshe, that doth in Ætnas Fornace grone,
That shoke with battery violent king Ioues assaulted trone.
This is the Centaures poysoned bloud which Nessus villayne vyle
Who made a rape of Dianire entending her to fyle,
Bequethed her when newly wounde he gasping lay for breath,
While Hercles shaft stack in his Ribs, whose laūce did worke his death:
Beholde the Funerall cinders heere which vp the poyson dryed
Of Hercules who in his fyre on Oeta mountayne dyed:
Loe heere the fatall brand, which late the fatall sisters three
Conspyred at Meleagers byrth, such should his destny bee,
To saue alyue his brethyng corpes, while that might whole remayne,
Which saufe his mother Althe kept, till he his vncles twayne,
(That from Atlanta would haue had the head of conquered Bore,)
Had reft of lyfe whose spightfull death Althea tooke so sore,
That both she showed her feruentnesse in systers godly loue,
When to reuenge her brothers death meere nature did her moue,
But yet as mother most vnkynde, of nature most vnmylde,
To hasten the vntymely graue of her beloued chylde,
Whyle Meleagers fatall brande she wasted in the flame,
Whose swelting guts and bowels moult consumed as the same,
These plumes the Harpyes rauening fowles for hast did leaue behinde,
In hidden hole whose cloase accesse no mortall wight can fynd.
When fast from Zethes chasing them with speedy flight they fled.
Put vnto these the fethers which the Symphal byrde did shed,
Whom duskyng Phœbus dymned lyght syr Hercules did slynge,
And galled with the shafte, that he in Hydraes hyde did flynge.
You Aares haue yeelde a clattring noyse I knowe, I knowe of olde,
How vnto mee my Oracles are wonted to bee toulde,
That when ye trembling flowre doth shake then hath my Goddes great,
Uouchsafe to graunt mee my request as I did her intreate,
I see Dianas waggon swife, not that whereon shee glydes,
When all the night in darkned Sky with Face full ope shee rydes:
With countnaunce bright and blandishing but when with heauy cheare,
With dusky shimmering wanny globe, her lampe doth pale appeare.
Or when shee trots about the heauens wyth horseheade rayned strayte,
When Thessayle Witches with the threats of charming her doe bayte.
So with thy dumpish dulled blase, thy cloudy faynting lyght,
Sende out, amid the lowring sky, the heart of people smyght
Wyth agonies of suddeyne dread, in straung and fearefull wyse,
Compell the pretious brasen pannes with iarring noyse to ryse
Through Corinth countrey euery where, to shielde thee frō thie harme,
Least headlong drawne thou be from heauen to earth by force of charme.
An holy solempne sacryfice to worship thee wee make,
Imbrewed with a bloudy turphe the kindled Torche doth take
Thy sacred burning night fyre at the dampishe mory graue.
Sore charged with thy troubled ghost my head I shaken haue,
And ducking downe my Necke alowe wt shryking lowde haue shright,
And groueling flat on floore in traunce haue lyen in dead mans plight.
My ruffled Lockes about myne eares downe dagling haue ben bownde
Tuckt vp about my temples twayne with gladsome garland crownde:
A drery braunche is offred thee from filthy Stigis flood.
As is the guise of Bacchus priestes the Coribanthes wood,
With naked breast and dugges layde out Ile pricke with sacred blade
Myne arme, that for the bubling bloude an issue may bee made,
With trilling streames my purple bloude let drop on Th'aulter stones.
My tender Childrens crusshed fleshe, and broken broosed bones
Lerne how to brooke with hardned heart: in practise put the trade
To florishe fearce, and keepe a coyle, with naked glittring blade:
I sprinkled holy water haue, the launce once being made,
If tyred thou complaynest that my cryes thee ouerlade,
Giue pardon to my ernest suite, O Perseus sister deare,
Still Iason is the onely cause that vrgeth mee to reare
With squeking voyce thy noysome beames, that sting like shot of bo
So season thou those sawced robes to worke Creusas woe,
Where with when shee shall pranke her selfe the poyson by and by
To rot her inward mary out, within her bones may fry,
The secret fyer bleares their eyes with glosse of yeallow golde,
The which Prometheus gaue to mee that fyer fylcher bolde.
On whom for robbery that he did in heauens aboue commit,
With massy payse great Caucasus th'unweldy hill doth sit,
Whert vnder with vnwasted wombe he lyes, and payes his payne,
To feede the crāming foule with gubs of guts that growes agayne.
He taught mee with a prety sleyght of conning, how to hyde
The strength of fyer close kept in, that may not be espyde,
This lyuely tinder Mulciber hath forged for my sake,
That tempred is with brymstone quick at fyrst touch and take.
Eke of my Cosen Phaëton a wyldefyer flake I haue
His flames the monstrous staghard rough Chimera to mee gaue,
In head and breast a Lyon grim, and from the Rump behynde
He sweepes the flower with lagging Tayle of Serpent fearce by kynde
In Rybbes, and Loynes along his paunche yshaped lyke a Goate.
These Fumes that out the Bull perbrakte from fyry spewinge throat
I gotten haue and brayde it with Medusas bitter gall
Commaunding it in secret sorte to duske and couer all:
Breath on these venoms Hecate with deadly myght inspyre,
Preserue the touching poulder of my secret couert fyre,
O graunt that these my cloked craftes so may bewitch theyr Eyes,
That lykelyhoode of treason none they may heerein surmyse:
So worke that they in handling it may feele no kynde of heate:
Her stewing breast, her seathing vaynes, let feruent fyer freate
And force her rosted pyning lymmes, to drop and melt away,
Let smoke her rotten broyling bones: enflame this bryde to day
To cast a lyght with greater gleede on fryseled blasing heare
Then is the shyning flame that doth the wedding torches beare.
My suite is harde, thryse Hecate a dreadfull barking gaue
From dolefull cloude a sacred flash of flamy sparkes shee draue.
Eche poysons pryde fulfilled is: call forth my chyldren deare,
By whom vnto the cursed Bryde these presentes you may beare:
Goe forth, goe forth my lytle Babes, your mothers cursed fruite,
Goe, goe, employ your paynes with brybe and earnest humble suits
To purchase grace, and eke to earne you fauour in her sight.
That both a mother is to you, and rules with Ladies might.
Goe on, apply your charge apace, and hye you home agayne,
That with embracing you I may my last farewell attayne.

THE FIFTH ACTE.

Nuntius. Chorus. Nutrix. Medea. Iason.
C.
What trayne hath them entrapt?

Nū.
Such as are made for Kinges to dye,
False traitrous gifts.

C.
What priuy guile could wrapped be in those?

Nū.
And I doe meruayle at this thing and skant I can suppose
That such a mischiefe might be wrought by any such deuice

Ch.
Report how this destruction and ruine should aryse

Nū.
The fyzzing flame most egerly doth scoure with sweeping sway
Eache corner of the Prynces court, as though it should obay,
Commaunded therevnto so flat on flowre the Pallace falles:
Wee are in dread least further it will take the townishe walles.

Ch.
Cast quenching water on it then to slake the greedy flame.

Nū.
And this that seemeth very straunge doe happen in the same,
The water feedes the fier fast, the more that wee doe toyle
It to suppresse, with hotter rage the heate begins to boyle:
Those thinges that wee haue gotten for our help it doth enioy.

Nut.
Medea thou that doest so sore king Pelops lande anoy,
Twine hence in hast thy forwarde foote, at all assayes depart
To any other kinde of coaste.

Me.
Can I finde in my hart
To shun this lande? if hence I had first falne away by flight,
I would haue traueled backe agayne, to gase at such a sight.
To stande and see this wedding new, why stayst thou doting mynde?
Apply, apply, thy sore attempt, that good successe doth finde.
What great exployt is this, that thou of vengeaunce dost enioy?
Still art thou blynded witlesse wench with vale of Venus boy?
Is this suffisaunce for the griefe? is roote of rancour ded,
If Iason leade a single lyfe in solitary bed?
Some netling, thorny, stinging plagues vnpractised deuise:
Prepare thy selfe in redines and fall to on this wyse:
Let all bee fishe that commes to Net, haue no respect of ryghte,
From mynde on mischiefe fixed fast let shame be banisht quyte:
The vengeaunce they receaued at my lytle chyldrens hand,
Is nothing worth: in earnest ire ententiue must thou stand.
When heate of wrath begins to coole, cheere vp thy selfe agayne:
Rayse vp those touches olde that wonted were in thee to raygne,
That buried deepe in breast doe lye: and as for all the same
That yet is wrought: Of godlinesse let it vsurpe the name:
Doe this, and I shall teach them learne, what tryfling cast it was,
And common practisde flimflam trick that erst I brought to passe.
By this my raging malady a preamble hath made,
To shew what howgier heapes of harmes shall shortly them inuade
What durst my rude vnskilfull hand assay that was of wayght?
What could the mallice of a Gyrle inuent her foes to bayte?
Still conuersaunt with wicked feates Medea am I made.
My blunt and dulled braynes hath so ben beate about this trade.
O so I ioy, I ioy, that I smote of my brothers head,
And slasht his members of: eake that from parents had I fled:
And fliched haue the priuy fleece, loe Mars that sacred was.
It glads my heart that I to bring olde Pelias death to passe:
Haue set his daughters all on worke: O griefe picke out a way
Not any guilt thou shalt with vnacquainted hand assay
Against whom wrath entendest thou to bend thyne Irefull might?
Or with what weapon dost thou meane thy trayterous foes to smight?
I know not what my wrathfull minde consulted hath within,
And to bewray it to himselfe, I dare not yet begin.
O rash and vnaduised foole, I make to hasty speede:
O that my Foe had gotten of his Harlots body Seede:
But what so euer thou by him enioyest, suppose the same
To bee Creusas Babes, of them let her enioy the name.
This vengeaunce, this doth like mee well good reason is there, why,
The last attempt of ils, thou must with stomacke stout apply.
Alas yee litle seely fooles that erst my children were,
The plaguing price of Fathers fault submit your selues to beare.
O, horrour huge with sodayne stroke my heart doth ouercom:
With ycie dulling colde congealde my Members all benum.
My shiuering lims appauled sore for gastly feare doe quake,
And banisht rage of malice hoate begins it selfe to slake:
The hatefull heart of wife agaynst her Spouse hath yeelded place,
And pitious mothers mercy milde restoreth natures face.
O shall I shed their guiltlesse bloude? shall I the frame vnfoulde
Of that, which louing natures hande hath wrought in me her moulde?
O doting fury chaunge thy minde, conceiue a better thought,
Let not this haynous sauage deede by meanes of mee be wrought.
What cryme haue they (poore fooles) cōmit, for which they should abye?
Upon theyr Father Iason right all blot of blame should lye.
Medea yet theyr Mother I am worser farre then hee.
Tush let them frankly goe to wracke no kith nor kin to mee
They are: dispatch them out of hand: holde, holde, my babes they be
God wot, most harmelesse lambes they are, no crime nor fault haue they
Alas they bee mere innocents, I doe not this denay:
So was my brother whom I slew: O false reuolting mynde,
Why dost thou staggring to and fro such chaunge of fancies fynde?
Why is my Face be sprent with teares, what makes mee falter so,
That wrath & loue with striuing thoughts doe leade mee to and fro?
Such fighting fancies bickringe stormes my swaruing minde detarre,
As when betwene the wrestling windes is raysed wrangling warre,
Eche where the tumbling wallowing waues, are hoyst and reared hye
Amid the iustling swolues of seas, that hot in fury frye:
Euē so my hart with strugling thoughts now sinks, now swells amaine,
Wrath sometyme chaseth vertue out, and vertue wrath agayne.
O yeelde thee, yeelde, a grising griefe, to vertue yeelde thy place:
Thou onely comforte of our stocke in this afflicted case,
Come heather, come deere loued Impe, with colling mee imbrace,
Whyle that by me your mother deere sweete Boyes yee are enioyed,
So long God graunt your Father may you kepe from harme vncloyed.
Exile and flight approach on mee, and they shall by and by
Be pulde perforce out of myne armes, with vapourde weeping Eye,
Sore languishing with mourning heart, yet let them goe to graue
Before their fathers Face, as they before their mothers haue:
Now rancorus griefe, with firy fits begins to boyle agayne,
The quenched coales of deadly hate do fressher force attayne.
The rusty rancour harbred long within my cancred brest
Starts vp, and stirres my hand anew in mischiefe to bee prest.
O that the rablement of brats which swarmde aboute the syde
Of Niobe that scornefull Dame, who perisht by her pryde
Had taken lyfe out of his lymmes, O that the fates of heauen
A fruictfull mother had me made of chyldren seuen and seuen.
My barreyne wombe for my reuenge hath yeelded litle store:
Yet for my sire and brother, twayne I haue, there needes no more:
Whom seeke this rufflyng rowt of Feendes with gargell Uisage dight?
Where will they deale theyr stripes, or whō with whips of fier smight?
Or whom with cruell scorching brande and Stygian faggot fell,
With mischief great to cloy, entendes this army black of hell?
A chopping Adder gan to hisse with wrethings wrapped rounde,
As soone as did the lasshing whyp flerte out with yerking sounde.
Whom bumping with thy rapping post Megæra wilt thou crush?
Whose ghost doth heere mishapt from hell with scatered members rush?
My slaughtred brothers ghost it is that vengeaunce coms to craue:
According to his dyre request due vengeaunce shall hee haue.
But flap thou fearce the fierbrandes full dasshed in myne Eyes,
Dig, rent, scrape, burne, and squeas them out, loe ope my breast it lyes,
To fighting furies bobbing strokes, O brother, brother bid
These royles, that preasse to worrey mee, them selues away to rid.
Downe to the silent soules alowe not taking any care:
Let mee be left heare by my selfe alone, and doe not spare,
To bast, and capperclaw these armes that drewe the bloudy blade:
To quench the furies of thy sprite, that thus doe mee inuade,
With this right hand the sacrifice on thaulter shalbe made.
What meanes this sudden trampling noyse? a band of men in Armes
Come bustling towarde vs, that mee will cloy with deadly harmes.
To ende this slaughter set vpon I will my selfe conuay
Up to the garrets of our house, come Nurce with me away,
Bestow thy body hence with mee from daunger of our foes.
Now thus my mynde on mischiefe set thou must thy selfe dispose,
Let not the flickering fame and prayse in darkenesse bee exilde
Of stomack stout, that you did vse in murthering of thy childe.
Proclaime in peoples eares the prayse of cruell bloudy hand.

IA.
If any faythfull man here bee, whom ruine of his land.
And slaughter of his Prynce doe cause in pensiue heart to bleede,
Step forth that yee may take the wretch that wrought this deadly deede.
Heere, heere, yee ioly champions lay loade with weapons heere,
Haue now, hoyst vp this house, from low Foundacion vp it reare.

ME.
Now, now my Scepter guilt I haue recouered once agayne:
My Fathers wronges reuenged are, and eke my brother slayne:
The gouldens cattels Fleece returnde is to my natiue land,
Possession of my realme I haue reclaymed to my hand:
Come home is my virginity, that whilom went astray.
O Gods as good as I coulde wisshe, O ioyfull wedding day,
Goe shrowde thy selfe in darknesse dim, dispacht I haue this feate:
Yet vengeaunce is not done inough, to coole our thristy heate.
O soule why dost thou make delay? Why dost thou doubting stande?
Goe foreward with it yet thou mayst, whyle doing is thy hande:
The wrath that might should mynister doth qualefy his flame:
The pryckes of sorrow twitch my heart attaynt with blusshing shame:
Through rygour of thy heynous gore, O wretch, what hast thou done?
Though I repent a caityfe vile I am, to slea my sonne:
Alas I haue committed it, importunate delight,
Still egged on my frowarde mynde that did against it fight:
And loe the vayne coniect of this delight increaseth still,
This onely is the thing, that wants vnto my wicked will,
That Iasons eyes shoulde see this sight as yet I doe suppose,
Nothing it is that I haue done, my trauell all I lose,
That I employde in dyry deedes, vnlesse hee see the same.

IA.
Loe heere shee looketh out, and leanes vpon the houses frame,
That pitchlong hanges with falling sway: heere heape your fiers fast,
Whereby the flames that shee her selfe enkindled, may her wast.

ME.
Goe Iason, goe the obit rights the windinge sheete and graue
Make ready for thy sonne, as last behoueth him to haue,
Thy spouse and eke thy father in lawe that are entomde by mee
Receiued haue the dutyes that to deade mens ghostes agree.
This childe hath felt the deadly stroke and launce of fatall knife,
And this with wailesome murther like shall lose her tender life.

IA.
By all the sacred ghostes of heauen, and by thy oft exile,
And spousall bed, which breach of loue in mee did not defile,
Now spare, and saue the life of him my childe and also thyne:
What euer cryme committed is, I graunt it to be myne:
Make mee a bloudy sacrifice to dew deserued death,
Take from my sinfull guilty head the vse of vitall breath.

ME.
Nay sith thou wilt not haue it so as greeues thy pynched minde,
Heere way to wreck my vengeaunce fell, my burning blade shall finde.
Auaunt, now hence thou pesaunt prowd employ thy busy payne,
To reape the fruites of virgins bed, and cast them of agayne
When mothers they are made.

IA.
Let one for dew reuenge suffice.

ME.
If greedy thyrst of hungry handes that stil for vengeaunce cries,
Myght quenched bee with bloude of one, then aske I none at all,
And yet to staunche my hungry griefe the number is to small,
If onely twayne I slea, if pleadge of loue lye secrete made,
My bowels Ile vnbreast, and search my wombe with poking Blade.

IA.
Now finish out thy deadly deede, that enterprised is,
No more entreataunce will I vse, yet onely graunt mee this,
Delay awhyle his dolefull death, that I may take my flyght.
Least that myne eyes wt bleeding hearte should vew that heauy sight.

ME.
Yet linger eger anguishe yet to slea this chylde of thyne.
Ronne not to rashe with hasty speede, this dolefull day is myne:
The time that wee obtayned haue of Creon, wee enioy.

IA.
O vile malitious mynded wretch my lothsome life destroy.

ME.
In crauing this thou speakst, that I should shew thee some releefe,
Well goodinough, all this is done: O ruthfull giddy greefe,
This is the onely sacrifice that I can thee prouide,
Unthankfull Iason hether cast thy coyesh lookes asyde.
Loe heare dost thou beholde thy wyfe? thus euer wonted I,
When murther I had made, to scape, my way doth open lye
That I may spring into the skyes: the flying serpents twayne
Submitted haue theyr scaly Neckes to yoake of ratling wayne,
Thou Father haue thy sonnes agayne, I in the wandring Skye
In nymble wheeled Waggon swyfte, will ryde aduaunced hye.

IA.
Goe through the ample spaces wyde, infect the poysoned Ayre,
Beare witnesse, grace of God is none in place of thy repayre.

THE EYGHTH TRAGEDYE OF L. ANNAEVS SENECA, Entituled AGAMEMNON: Translated out of Latin into Englishe, by IOHN STVDLEY.

The Speakers names.

• THYESTES.
• CHORVS, A company of Greekes.
• CLYTEMNESTRA.
• NVTRIX.
• AEGISTHVS.
• EVRYBATES.
• CASSANDRA.
• AGAMEMNON.
• ELECTRA.
• STROPHILVS.

THE FIRST ACTE.

THYESTES.
Departinge from the darkned dens which Ditis low doth keepe,
Loe heere I am sent out agayne from Tartar Dungeon deepe,
Thyestes I, that wheather coast to shun doe stande in doubt,
Th'infernall fiendes I fly, the foalke of earth I chase about.
My conscience lo abhors, that I should heather passage make,
Appauled sore with feare and dread my trembling sinewes shake:
My fathers house, or rather yet my brothers I espy,
This is the olde and antique porche of Pelops progeny.
Here first the Greekes on prynces heads doe place the royall crowne,
And heere in throne aloft they lye, that ietteth vp and downe,
With stately Scepter in theyr hand, eake heere theyr courts doe ly,
This is theyr place of banquetting, returne therefore will I.
Nay: better were it not to haunt the lothsome Limbo lakes,
Where as the Stygion porter doth aduaunce with lusty crakes
His tryple gorge be hong with Mane shag hairy, rusty blacke:
Where Ixions Carkasse linked fast, the whirling wheele doth racke,
And cowleth still vpon him selfe: where as full oft in vayne
Much toyle is lost, (the tottring stone down tumbling backe agayne)
Where growing guts the greedy gripe do gnaw with rauening bits.
Where parched vp with burning thirst amid the waues he sits,
And gapes to catch the fleeting flood with hungry chaps beguilde,
That payes his paynefull punishment, whose feast the Gods defilde:
Yet that olde man so stept in yeares at length by tract of time,
How great a part belonges to mee and portion of his crime?
Account wee all the grisly ghostes, whom guilty founde of ill,
The Gnosian Iudge in Plutoes pyts doth tosse in torments still:
Thyestes I in driery deedes will farre surmount the rest,
Yet to my Brother yelde I, (though I gorgde my bloudy brest)
And stuffed haue my pampred paunche euen with my chyldren three,
That crammed lye within my Rybs and haue theyr Toumbe in mee,
The bowels of my swallowed Babes, deuowred vp I haue,
Nor fickle Fortune mee alone the Father doth depraue,
But enterprysing greater guilte then that is put in vre,
To file my Daughters bawdy Bed, my lust shee doth alure.
To speake these words I doe not spare, I wrought the haynous deede,
That therefore I through all my stocke, might parent still proceede.
My Daughter driuen by force of Fates and destenyes deuyne,
Doth breede younge bones, & lades her wombe, wt sinfull seede of myne.
Loe, nature chaunged vpside downe, and out of order tornde
This myngle mangle hath shee made, (O fact to be forlornde)
A Father and a Grandsyre loe, confusedly I am,
My daughters husband both become, and Father to the same.
Those babes yt should my Nephewes bee, when nature rightly runnes,
She being tumbled doth confounde, and mingle with my sonnes.
The chrystall clearenesse of the day, and Phœbus beames so bryght,
Are myxed with the foggy cloudes, and darkenesse dim of nyght.
When wickednes had wearied vs, to late truce taken was,
Euen when our detestable deedes were done and brought to passe.
But valiaunt Agamemnon hee graund captayne of the Hoste,
Who bare the sway among the Kinges, and ruled all the roste,
Whose flaunting Flag, and Banner braue, displayde in royall sorte,
A thousand sayle of sowsing ships did garde to Phrygian porte,
And with their swelling shatling sayles the surging seas did hide,
That beateth on the bankes of Troy, and floweth by her side:
When Phœbus Carte the Zodiack ten times had ouer runne,
And waste the battred Walles doe lye of Troy destroyde and woonne,
Returnde he is to yeelde his throate vnto his traytresse Wyfe.
That shall with force of bloudy blade bereue him of his lyfe.
The glytering Swerd, the hewing Axe, and wounding weapons moe,
With bloud for bloud new set abroche shall make the floore to flow.
With sturdy stroke, and boystrous blow, of pithy Pollaxe geuen
His beaten braynes are pasht abroade, his cracked Skull is reuen.
Now myschiefe marcheth on a pace, now falshoode doth appeare,
Now Butchers slaughter doth approche, and murther draweth neare.
In honour of thy natyue day Ægisthus they prepare
The sollemne feast with iuncketing, and daynty tothsome fare.
Fy, what doth shame abashe thee so, and cause thy courage quayle?
Why doubts thy righthand what to doe? to smite why doth it fayle?
What he forecasting might suspect, why shouldst thou take aduyse?
Why frettest thou, demaunding if thou may it enterpryse?
Nay: if a mother it beseeme, thou rather mayst furmyse.
What now? how hapneth it that thus the smiling sommers night,
When Phœbus from Th'antipodes shoulde render soone the lyght,
On sudden chaung their turnes with nights that last and lynger longe,
When wynters Boreas bitter blastes, doth puffe the trees amonge?
Or what doth cause the glyding starres to stay still in the sky?
Wee wayght for Phœbus: to the Worlde bryng day now by and by.

THE SECOND ACTE.

[THE FIRST SCENE.]

Clytemnestra, Nutrix
Nut.
O worthy Queene amonge the Greekes that beares the swinging sway.
And borne of Ledas royall bloud, what muttring dost thou say?
What fury fel inforceth thee, bereaued of thy wits.
To rage and raue with bedlam braynes, to fret withfranticke fittes?
Though madam thou do counsayle keepe, and not complayne thy case,
Thyne anguish playn appeareth in thy pale and wanny face.
Reueale therfore what is thy griefe, take leasure good and stay,
What reason could not remedy, oft cured hath delay.

Clit.
So grieuous is my careful case which plungeth me so sore,
That deale I cannot with delay, nor linger any more.
The flashing flames and furious force of fiery feruent heate,
Outraging in my boyling brest, my burning bones doth beate:
It suckes the sappy marow out the iuice it doth conuay,
It frets, it teares it rents, it gnaws, my guttes and gall away.
Now feble feare stil egges mee on (with dolor beyng prest)
And cankred hate with thwacking thumpes doth bounce vpon my brest
The blynded boy that louers hartes doth reaue with deadly stroake,
Entangled hath my linked mynd with leawd and wanton yoke:
Refusing stil to take a foyle, or cleane to be confound:
Among these broyles, and agonies my mynd beseging round,
Loe feble, weary, batred downe, and vnder troden shame,
That wrestleth, striueth, strugleth hard, and fighteth with the same.
Thus am I driuen to diuers shores and beat frow banke to banke,
And tossed in the fomy floods that striues with corage cranke.
As when here wynd, and their the streame when both their force wil try,
From sandes alow doth hoyst and reare the seas with surges hye.
The waltring waue doth staggeryng stand not weting what to do,
But (houeryng) doubtes, whose furious force he best may yeld him to.
My kingdome therfore I cast of, my sceptor I forsake
As anger, sorrow, hope, me leade, that way I meane to take.
At all aduenture to the seas I yeld my beaten Barge,
At randon careles wil I runne, now wil I roue at large
Whereas my mynde to fancy fond dath gad and runne astray,
It is the best to chuse that chaunce, and follow on that way.

Nu.
This desprat dotage doth declare, and rashnes rude and blynde,
To chuse out chaunce to be the guyde and ruler of thy mynd.

Cli.
He that is driuen to vtter pinch and furthest shift of all,
What neede he doubt his doubtful lot or how his lucke befall?

Nut.
In silent shore thou saylest yet thy trespas we may hyde,
If thou thy selfe detect it not, nor cause it be descryde.

Cl.
Alas it is more blasd abroade, and further it is blowen,
Then any cryme that euer in this princely court was sowen.

Nu.
Thy former falt with pensiue hart and sorrow thou dost rew.
And fondly yet thou goest about, to set abroch a newe,

Cl.
It is a very folishnes to kepe a meane therein.

Nu.
The thing he feares he doth augment who heapeth sinne to sinne.

Cli.
But fire and swoard to cure the same the place of salue supply.

Nu.
There is no man who at the first extremity wil trye.

Cl.
In working mischiefe men do take the rediest way they fynde.

Nu.
The sacred name of wedlocke once reuoke and haue in mynd.

Cli.
Ten yeares haue I bene desolate, and led a widowes life.
Yet shall I entertayne a new my husband as his wyfe?

Nu.
Consider yet thy sonne and heire whom he of thee begot.

Cly.
And eake my daughters wedding blase as yet forget I not.
Achilles eke my sonne in law to mynd I do not spare,
How wel he kept his vow that he to me his mother sware.

Nu.
When as our nauy might not passe by wynd nor yet by streame,
Thy daughters bloud in sacrifyce their passage did redeme:
Shee sturd and brake the sluggish seas, whose water stil did stand,
Whose feble force might not hoyse vp, the vessels from the land.

Cl.
I am ashamed herewithal, it maketh me repyne,
That Tyndaris (who from the Gods doth fetch her noble ligne
Should geue the ghost t'asswage the wrath of Gods and them appease,
Wherby the Grekish nauy might haue passage free by seas.
My grudging mynd stil harpes vppon my daughters wedding day,
Whom he hath made for Pelops stock the bloudy raunsome pay.
When as with cruel countenaunce embrewd with gory bloud,
As at a wedding alter syde th'unpitiful parent stoodt,
It erked Calchas woful hart, who did abhorre the same,
His Oracle he rewd, and eke the backe reflicting flame
O wicked and vngracious stocke that winnest il with yll,
Tryumphing in thy filthy feats encreasyng leaudnes still.
By bloud we win the waueryng windes, by death wee purchase warre

Nu.
But by this meanes a thousand ships at once released are:

Cly.
With lucky fate attempt the seas did not the losed rout?
For Aulis Ile, th'ungracious fleete from port did tumble out:
As with a lewde vnlucky hand the warre he did beginne,
So Fortune fauored his successe to thriue no more therin.
Her loue as captiue holdeth him whom captiue he did take
Not moued with the earnest suite that could Achilles make,
Of Phœbus prelat Sminthicall he did retayne the spoyle:
When for the sacred virgins loue his furious breast doth boyle:
Achilles rough and thundring threats could not him qualify.
Nor he that doth direct the fates aboue the starry skye.
To vs he is an Augur iuste, and keepes his promise due,
But while he threats his captiue truls of word he is not true.
The sauage people fierce in wrath once might not moue his spright,
Who did purloyne the kindled tentes with fyer blasing bryght:
When slaughter great on Greekes was made in most extreamest fyght
Without a foe he conquered, with leanes pines awaye,
In lewd and wantōn chamber trickes he spends the idle day,
And freshly still he fedes his lust, least that some other while
His chamber chast should want a stewes, that might the same defile.
On Lady Brises loue againe his fancy fonde doth stand,
Whom he hath got, that wrested was out of Achilles hand.
And carnal copulation to haue he doth not shame,
Though from her husbands bosome he hath snacht the wicked dame,
Tushe, he that doth at Paris grudge, with wound but newly stroke
Eflamd with Phrygian Prophets loue, his boyling brest doth smoke.
Now after Troyan boties braue, and Troy orewhelm'd he saw,
Retourned he is a prysoners spouse, and Pryams sonne in law.
Now heart be bold, take corage good, of stomacke now be stowt,
A field that easely is not fought, to pitch thou goest about.
In practise mischiefe thou must put, why hopst thou for a day,
While Priams daughter come from Troy in Grece do beare the sway.
But as for the poore sely wreth, a wayteth at thy place
Thy wyddow, virgyns, and Orest his fatherlyke in face,
Consyder theyr calamityes, to come, and eake their cares,
Whom all the peril of the broyle doth threat in thy affayres.
O cursed captiue, woful wretch why dost thou loyter so?
Thy little brats a stepdame haue whose wrath wil worke their woe.
With gashing sword (and if thou can none other way prouide)
Nor thrust it through anothers ribbes then launch thy gory syde,
So murther twayne with brewed bloud, let bloud immixed be,
And by destroying of thy selfe destroy thy spouse with thee.
Death is not sawst with soppes of Sorrow if some man els I haue,
Whose breathlesse corse I wish to passe with me to deadly graue.

Nu.
Queene, brydle thyne affections, and wysely rule thy rage,
Thy swelling moode now mittigate, thy choller take asswage.
Way wel the wayghty enterpryse that thou dost take in hand,
Tryumphant victor he returnes of mighty Asia land
Auenging Europes iniury with him he bringes away.
The spoyles of sacked Pargamy a huge and mighty pray.
In bondage eake he leades the foalke of long assaulted Troy,
Yet darest thou by poliecie attempt him to annoy?
Whom with the dynt of glittring sword Achilles durst not harme,
Although his rash and desperat dickes the froward Knight did arme:
Nor Aiax yet more hardy man vp yelding vitall breath,
Whom frantike fury fell enforst to wound himselfe to death:
Nor Hector he whose onely life procurde the Greekes delay,
And long in warre for victory enforced them to stay:
Nor Paris shaft, whose conning hand with shot so sure did ayme:
Nor mighty Memnon swart and blacke, had power to hurt the same:
Nor Xanthus flood, where to and fro deade carkasses did swimme,
With armour hewd and therewithall some maymed broken limme:
Nor Symois, that purple wawmes with slaughter died doth steare.
Nor Cygnus lilly whyte, the Sonne of fenny God so deare:
Nor yet the musteryng Thrasian host: nor warlike Rhesus kinge:
Nor Amazons, who to the warres did paynted Quiuers bring,
And bare theyr hatches in their handes with Target and with shield,
Yet had no powre with ghastly wound to foyle him in the field.
Syth he such scouringes hath escapt and plungde of perilles past
Entendest thou to murther him returning home at last?
And sacred alters to prophane with slaughters so vnpure?
Shal Greec thaduenger let this wronge long vnreuengde endure
The grym and fearre coragious horse, the battayles, shoutes, & cryes,
The swelling seas which bruised barkes do dread when stormes aryse,
Behold the fieldes with streames of bloud oreflowne & depely dround,
And al the cheualry of Troy in seruile bondage bounde,
Which Greekes haue writ in registers. Thy stubborne stomacke bynd,
Subdue thy fond affections, and pacify thy mynde.

THE SECOND SCENE.

Ægysthus, Clytemnestra.
Cli.
It is no plague, if such a death thy natiue destnies deale.

Ae
(O partners of my perils all begot of Leda thou)
Direct thy doynges after myne, and vnto thee I vow,
This drosel sluggish ringleader, this stout strong harted sire,
Sal pay thee so much bloud agayne as shed he hath in fyre
How haps it that his trembling cheekes to be so pale and whight,
Lying agast as in a traunce with faynting face vpright.

Cl.
His conscience wedlocke vow doth pricke & bringes him home again
Let vs returne the selfe same trade a new for to retayne,
To which at first we should haue stucke and ought not to forsake,
To couenaunt continent a new let vs our selues betake:
To take the trade of honesty at no tyme is to late:
He purged is from punishment whose hart the cryme doth hate.

Aeg.
Why whither wilt thou gad (o rash and vnaduysed dame?)
What dost thou earnestly beleeue, and firmly trust the same;
That Agamemnons spousall bed wil loyall be to thee?
That nought doth vnderprop thy mynd which might thy terrour bee?
His proud successe puft vp to high with lucky blest of wynde,
Might make so cranke, and set aloft his hawty swelling mynd:
Among his peares he stately was ere Troyan turrets torne,
How thinke ye then his stomacke stoute by nature geuen to scorne,
In haughtines augmented is more in himselfe to ioy,
Throughe this triumphant victory and conquest got of Troy?
Before his voyage Miceane King most mildly did he raygne,
But now a Tyrant truculent returnd he is agayne.
Good lucke and proude prosperity do make his hart so ryse.
With what great preparation prepared solemne wyse,
A rabblement of strumpets come that clong about him al?
But yet the Prophetesse of Thebe (whom God of truth we call)
Appeares aboue the rest: she keepes the King, shee doth him guyde:
Wilt thou in wedlocke haue a mate and not for it prouyde?
So would not shee, the greattest greefe this is vnto a wyse,
Her husbandes minion in her house to leade an open life.
A Queenes estate cannot abyde her peere with her to raygne,
And ielous wedlocke will not her companion sustayne.

Cl.
Aegist in desprat moode agayn why seest thou mee a flote?
Why kindlest thou the sparkes of yre in imbers couered hot
If that the victors owne free will release his captiues care,
Why may not I his Lady spouse haue hope as wel to fare?
One law doth rule in royal throne, and pompous prince he Towres,
Among the vulgar sorte, another in priuate simple bowers.
What though my grudging fancy force that at my husbandes hand,
Sharpe execution of the law I stobbernly withstand?
Recording this that haynously offended him I haue:
He gently wil me pardon graunt who neede the same to craue?

Aeg.
Euen so on this condition thou mayst with him compound,
To pardon him if he agayne to pardon the be bounde.
The subtil science of the law, the statutes of our land,
(That long agoe decreed were) thou dost not vnderstand.
The Iudges be malicious men, they spyght and enuye vs,
But he shal haue them partiall his causes to discus.
This is the chiefest priuiledge that doth to Kinges belong.
What lawes forbiddeth other men, they doe, and doe no wronge.

Cly.
He pardned Helen, she is wed to Menela agayne
Which Europe all with Asia did plunge alike in payne.

Aeg.
No Ladies Lust hath rauisht yet Atrides in his life,
Nor priuily purloynd his hart betrothed to his wyfe.
To picke a quarrel he beginnes and matter thee to blame,
Suppose thou nothing hast commit that worthy is of shame?
What boteth him whom Princes hate an honest life to frame?
He neuer doth complayne his wrong, but euer beares the blame.
Wilt thou repayre to Spart and to thy countrey trudge aryght?
Wilt thou become a ronnagate from such a worthy wight?
Deuorcement made from Kinges wil not so let the matter scape,
Thou easest feare by fickle hope, that falsly thou dost shape:

Cli.
My trespas is disclosd to none, but to a trusty wight:

Aeg.
At princes gates fidelity yet neuer enter might.

Cl.
I wil corrupt and feede him so with siluer and with gold,
That I by bribing bynd him shall no secrets to vnfold:

Ae.
The trust that hyred is and bought by brybes and moneis fee,
Thy counsell to bewray agayne with brybes entyste wil be

Cl.
The remnaunt left of shamefastnes of those vngracious trickes,
Wherin of late I did delyght, my conscience freship prickes.
Why kep'st thou such a busie slurre and with thy flatring speach,
Enstructing me with lewd aduyse dost wicked counsell preach
Shall I forsooth of royal bloud with al the speede I can
Refuse the King of Kinges, and wed an outcast banisht man?

Aeg.
Why should you thinke in that Thiest was father vnto mee.
And Agamemnon Atreus sonne he should my better be?

Cly.
If that be but a tryfle small, and nephew to the same.

Aeg.
I am of Phœbus linage borne, wherof I do not shame.

Cl.
Why makste thou Phœbus author of thy wicked pedagrew,
Whom out of heauen ye forst to flye when bridle backe he drew,
When Lady Night with mantel blacke did spread her soden shade,
Why makest thou the Gods in such reproachfulnes to wade?
Whose father hath thee conning made by sleight and subtil guyle
To make thy kinsman Cockold whyle his wyfe thou do defyle.
What man is he whom we do know to be thy fathers mate,
Abusing lust of Lethery in such vnlawful rate?
Auaunt, go packe thee hence in hast, dispatch out of my sight
This infamy, whose blemish staynes this bloud of worthy wyght.

Aeg.
This is no new exile to me that wickednes do haunt,
But if that thou (O worthy Queene) commaund me to auaunt,
I wil not only strayght auoyde the house the towne and field
My life on sword at thy request I ready am to yeeld

Cli.
This heynous dede permit shall I (most churlish cruell drab)
Agaynst my wil though I offend, the fault I should not blabbe:
Nay, rather come apart with mee, and let vs ioyne our wittes:
To wrap our selues out of this woe and parlous threatning fits.

Chorus.

Now chaunt it lusty laddes, Apollos prayse subborne,
To thee the frolicke flocke their crowned heads adorne.
To thee King Inachs stocke of wedlocke chamber voyde,
Brayd out their virgins lockes and theron haue employd
Theyr sauory garlandes greene Itwist of laurell bow.
Draw neare with vs O Thebes our dauncing follow thou.
Come also ye that drinck of Ismen bubling flood,
VVheras the Laurell treeful thicke on bankes doth bood.
Eake ye whom Mando mild, the Prophetesse diuine,
(Foreseyng fate) and borne of high Tiresias lygne,
Hath stird to celebrate with sacred vse and right.
Appollo and Dian borne of Latona bright.
O Victor Phæbe vnbend thy noked bow agayne.
Syth quietnes and peace anew we do retayne.
And let thy twanckling harpe make melody so shril,
Whyle that thy nimble hand stryke quauers with thy quill.
No curious descant I nor lusty musick craue,
No iolly rumbling note, nor trouling tune to haue.
But on thy treble Lute (according to thy vse)
Stryke vp a playnsong note as when thy learned muse
Thy lessons do record, though yet on baser string
It lyketh thee to play the song that thou did singe:
As when from fyery heauen the dint of lightning flue,
Sent downe by wrath of Gods the Titans ouerthrew
Or else when mountaynes were on mountaynes heaped hie
That rayse for Giauntes fell theyr steppes into the skye,
The mountayne Ossa stoode on top of Pelion layd,
Olymp (wheron the Pynes theyr budding braunches braide)
Downe paised both: drawe nere O Iuno noble dame,
Both spouse of mighty Ioue and sister to the same.
Thou that dost rule with him made ioynter of his mace,
Thy people we of Grece geue honor to thy grace:
Thou onely dost protect from perilles Argos land,
That euer careful was to haue thyne honour stand,
Most supplient thereunto thou also with thy might
Dost order ioyful peace and battails fearce of fyght
Accept O conquering Queene these braunches of the bayes
That Agamemnon here doth yeld vnto thy prayse:
The hollow boxen pype (that doth with holes abound)
In synging vnto the doth geue a solemne sound:
To thee the Damsels eake that play vppon the stringes,
With conning harmony melodious musicke singes.
The matrons eke of Greece by ryper years more graue,
To thee the Taper pay that vowed oft they haue,
The Heyferd young and whyte companion of the Bull.
Vnskilful yet by proofe the paynful plow to pull.
VVhose neck was neuer worrie nor gald with print of yoke,
Is in thy temple slaine receiuing deadly stroke.
O Lady Pallas thou of most renoumed hap
Bred of the brayne of Ioue that smites with thunder clap.
Thou lofty Troian towres of craggy knotty flint
Hast bet with battring blade, and stroke with iaueling dint:
The elder matrones with the dames that yonger be
Together in myngled heapes do honour due to thee,
VVhen thou approching nighe thy comming is espyde,
The priest vnbarres the gate, and opes the Temple wide:
By clustring thronges the flocks thine altars haunt apace,
Bedeckte with twisted crownes so trim with comely grace.
The olde and auncient men well stept and grown in yeares,
VVhose feeble trembling age procureth hory hayres
Obtayning their request crau'de of thy grace deuine,
Do offer vp to thee their sacrifysed wyne,
O bright Dian whose blase sheds light three sondry waies
VVe myndful are of thee, and render thankefull prayse,
Delon thy natiue soyle thou diddest fyrmely bynde,
That to and fro was wont to wander with the wynde:
VVhich with foūdation sure mayn ground forbyds to passe
For Nauies (after which to swim it wonted was)
It is become a road defying force of wynd,
The mothers funeralles of Tantalus his kinde.
The daughters seuen by death thou victresse dost accompt
VVhose mother Niobe abydes on Sipil mount
A lamentable rocke and yet vnto this howre
Her teares new gushing, out the marble old doth powre.
The Godhead of the Twins in sumpteous solemne wyse,
Both man and wyfe adore with sauory sacrifyce,
But thee aboue the rest O father great and guide,
VVhose mighty force is by the burning lightning tryde:
Who when thou gauest a becke and didst thy head but shake
At once thextremest poales of heauen and earth did quake,
O Iupiter the roote that of our lynage arte,
Accept these offered gifts and take them in good parte:
And thou O graundsire great to thy posteritie.
Haue some remorse, that do not swarue in chyualrie.
But yonder lo with stiuing steps the souldier comes amayne
In all post hast, with token that good newes declareth plaine
A Lawrell braunch, that hangeth on his speare head he doth bringe
Eurybates is come, who hath ben trusty to the kynge.

THE THIRD ACTE.

Euribates, Clytemnestra
Cly.
The tydings of a message good vnto mine eares is blowne.
Where stayes my spouse whō longing for ten yeres I haue out scand?
What doth he yet sayle on the seas, or he is come a land?
Yet hath he fyxt and set his foote back stepping home agayne.
Uppon the sandy shore, that longe he wished to attayne?
And doth he styll enioy his health enhauncte in glory great,
And painted out in pompe of prayes whose fame the sky doth beate?

Eu.
Blesse we with burning sacrifice at length this lucky day

Cli.
And eke the Gods though gracious, yet dealing long delay:
Declare if that my brothers wyfe enioy the vytall ayre
And tel me to what kind of Coast my sister doth repayre.

Euri.
God graunt, & geue vs better newes then this that thou dost craue
The heauy hap of fyghting flouds forbiddes the truth to haue,
Our scattred fleete the swelling seas attemptes in such a plight,
That ship from ship was taken cleane out of each others sight.
Atrides in the waters wyde tormoyld and straying farre
More vyolence by seas sustaynd then by the bloudy warre
And as it were a conquerd man escaping home al weete
Now bringeth in his company of such a mighty fleete,
A sort of brused broken barkes, beshaken, torne, and rent.

Cli.
Shew what vnlucky chaunce it is that hath our nauy spent.
What storme of seas dispersed hath our Captaynes hear and there

Eury.
Thou willest me to make report of heauy woful geare.
Thou biddest me most greeuous newes with tydinges good to part:
For vttring of this woeful hap my feeble mynd doth start.
And horribly appauled is with this so monstruous ill.

Cly,
Speake out and vtter it: himselfe with terrour he doth fill,
Whose hart his owne calamity and carke doth loath to know:
The hart whom doubted domage dulles with greater griefe doth glow

Eu.
When Troyan buildings blasing bright did burne away and broyle,
Enkindled first by Grekish brand, they fall to part the spoyle:
Repayring fast vnto the seas agayne we come aboord,
And now the souldiers weary loynes were eased of his sword,
Their bucklers cast aside, vppon the hatches lie aboue.
Their warlike handes in practise put, and Oers learne to moue:
Ech litle hindraunce seemes to much to them in hasty plight,
When of recourse the Admirall gaue watchword by his light,
And trumpet blast beganne to cal our army from delay.
The paynted Pup with gilded snowt did first guyde on the way:
And cut the course, which following on a thousand shippes did ryue,
Then first a wynd with pipling puffes our launcing ships did dryue,
Watch glyded downe vpon our sayles the water beyng calme
With breath of westerne wynd so myld scant moued any walme.
The shyning seas bespred about with shippes doth glister bright,
And also couerd with the same lay hid from Phœbus syght:
It doth vs good to gase vppon the naked shore of Troy:
The desart Phrygian plots so bare to vew wee hop for ioye:
The yeuth each one besturres themselues, and striking altogeather,
They tough their oers & with their toyle they helpe the wynd & weather
They tug and chearely row by course, the spirting seas vp dash,
Agaynst the tatling ribs of ships the flapping floods do flash
The hory froth of wrestling waues which ores aloft doth rayse,
Do draw and trace a furrow through the marblefaced seas.
When stronger blast with belly swolne our hoysted sayles did fil,
They row no more, but let the Pup to goe with wynd at wil,
Their sheryng oers layd assyde our Pilot doth espye,
How farre from any land aloofe our sayles reculing flye.
Or bloudy battels doth display the threats of Hector stout,
Or of his ratling waggings tels, wherein he rode about.
Or how his gashed carkas slayne and traynd about the field
To funeral flames and obit rightes for coyne agayne was yeld.
How Iupiter embathed was al in his royall bloud.
The frolicke fish disposed was to mirth in Tyrren floud,
And fetching friskes both in and out playes on the waters brim,
And on his broade and fynny backe about the seas doth swim,
With gambals quicke in ringes around and side to side enclynd,
Erwhyle he sportes afront the pup, and whips agayne behynd,
Now fidling on the snout before the dalying wanton route
With iocundary ioly tryckes doth skip the fleete about.
Sometyme he standeth gasing on and eyes the vessels bright,
Now euery shore is couered cleane, and land is out of sight,
The parlous poynt of Ida rocke in sight doth open lye,
And that alone espie we could with fyrmly fixed eye,
A duskye clowde of stifling smoake from Troy did smolter blacke,
When Titan from the weary neckes the heauy yokes did slacke.
The fading light did groueling bend, and downe the day did shrowd,
Agaynst the Starres amounting vp a litle misty clowde
Came belching out in yrksome lompe, and Phœbus galland beams
He spewd vppon, bestayning them duct downe in Westerne streams.
The Sunne set swaruing in such sort with diuers chaunge of face,
Did geue vs cause to haue mistrust of Neptunes doubted grace,
The euening first did burnish bright, and paynt with starres the sky.
The wyndes were layed, and cleane forsooke our sayles that quiet lie.
When cracking, ratling, rumbling noyse, rusht down wt thundring sway
From top of hills, which greatter sturre doth threaten and bewraye.
With bellowinges, and yellinges lowde, the shores do grunt & grone,
The craggy clyues and roaring rocks do howle in hollow stone.
The bubling waters swelles vpreard before the wrastling wynd,
When sodaynly the lowring light of Mone is hid and blynd.
The glymsing starres do goe to glade, the surging seas are tost
Euen to the skyes among the clowdes the light of heauen is lost.
More nightes in one compacted are with shadow dim and blacke,
One shadow vpon another doth more darknes heape and packe,
And euery sparke of light consum'd the waues and skyes do meete,
The ruffling windes range on the seas, through euery coast they fitt.
They heaue it vp with violence, oreturnde from bottom low,
The westerne wynd flat in the face of Easterne wynd doth blow.
With hurley burley Boreas set ope his blasting mouth,
And girdeth out his boysteous breth agaynst the stormy south,
Each wynd with al his might doth blow, and worketh daungers deepe,
They shake the floods, a sturdy blast along the seas do sweepe.
That rolles and tumbles waue on waue, a northren tempest stronge,
Aboundance great of flacky snow doth hurle our shippes amonge.
The southwynd out of Libia, doth rage vppon a shold,
And with the puissant force therof the quicksandes vp be rold,
Nor bydeth in the south which doth with tempest lumpe and lower,
And force the flowing floods to rise by powring out a shower.
The stubberne Eurus, Earthquakes made, and shoke the coūtries East,
And Eos cost where Phœbus first aryseth from his rest.
How violent Corus stretcht and tare his yawning breast ful wyde?
A man would sure haue thought the world did from his center slyde,
And that the frames of Heauen broke vp the Gods adowne would fall
And Chaos darke confused heape would shade and couer all.
The streame straue with the wynd, the wynd dyd beate it downe againe
The springing sea within his bankes can not it selfe contayne,
The raging showre his trilling droppes doth mingle with the seas,
And yet in all this misery the fynd not so much ease,
To see and know what ill it is, that worketh theyr decay.
The darknes dim oppresseth still and keepes the light away:
The blackfacst night with Hellicke hue was clad of Stygian lake
And yet ful oft with glimsing beames the sparkling fyre out brake,
The clowde doth cracke, and beyng rent the lightning leapeth out,
The wretches like the same so well it shyning them about,
That stil they wish such light to haue (although God wot but yll)
The nauy swaying downe it selfe doth cast away, and spill.
One side with other side is crackt, and helme is rent with helme,
The ship it selfe the gulping seas do headlong ouerwhelme.
Erwhyle a greedy gaping gulph doth sup it vp amayne,
Then by and by tost vp aloft it spewes it out againe,
She with her swagging full of sea to bottome lowe doth sinke
And drencheth deepe asyde in floods her totring broken brinke.
That vnderneath a dosen waues lay drowned out of sight,
Her broken plankes swim vp and downe, spoyld is her tackle quight,
Both sayle and Oers cleane are lost, the mayne mast eke is gone.
That wonted was to beare vpright the sayle yard thereuppon,
The limber and the broken bordes lye on the waters brim,
When cold and shiuering feare in vs doth strike through euery lim,
The wysest wits entocksicate dare nothing enterprise,
And cunning practise naught auayles when feareful stormes aryse,
The mareners letting duty slip stand staring all agast,
Their scoping ores sodaynly out of their handes are wrast.
To prayer then apace we fall, when other hope is none,
The Greekes and Troyans to the Gods alyke do make their mone.
Alacke what succour of the fates may wee poore wretches fynd?
Agaynst his father Pyrrhus beares a spyteful cankred mynd,
At Ayax grudge Vlisses doth, king Menela doth hate
Great Hector: Agamemnon is with Priam at debate.
O happy man is he that doth lye slayne in Troyan ground,
And hath deserude by handy stroake to take his fatall wound,
Whom same preserueth, taking vp his tombe in conquerd land
Those momes whose melting cowardes hart durst neuer take in hand
Or enterprise no noble acte, those force of floods shall drowne
But fate forbearing long, wil take stoute Brutes of high renoume,
Ful wel we may ashamed be, in such a sort to dye,
If any man his spyteful mynd yet can not satisfye,
With these outragious plunging plagues that downe frō Gods are sēt,
Appease at length thy wrathful God agayne and eake relent.
Euen Troy for pity would haue wept, to see our woefull case,
But if that in thy boyling breast black rancour still haue place,
And that the Greekes to ruin run, it bee thy purpose bent,
Why doe these Troyans goe to wrack? for whom thus are wee spent?
Asswage the rygaur of the sea that threatning hilles vp reares:
This drenched Fleete the Troyan folke and Greekes together beares.
Then from theyr prayers are they put, theyr foultring tonges doe stay,
The roring seas doth drowne their voyce and caryes their cries away.
Then mighty Pallas armed with the lepping lightning fyre,
That teasty loue doth vse to hurle prouokt to swelling yre,
With threatning Iaueling in her hand, her prowesse meanes to try,
And eke her force whose boyling breast with Gorgon fits doth fry,
Or what with Target she can doe, and with her Fathers fyre.
Then from the Skyes another storme begins abroade to spyre,
But Aiax nothing yet dismaide all force withstandeth stout,
Whom when hee spred his swelling sayles with Cable stretched out,
She lighting downe did wryng him hard, and wrapt him in her flame,
And slang another flasshing dint of lightning on the same,
With all her force and violence her hand brought back agayne,
She tost him out, as late that feate her father tought her playne.
Both ouer Aiax and his Pup she flyeth ouerthwart,
And renting man and shyp, of both shee beares away a part,
His corage nought abated yet hee all to singde doth seeme,
Euen like a stubberne ragged Rocke amid the striuing streame,
Hee traynes along the roaring seas and eke the waltring waue
By shouing on his bourly breast in sunder quite he draue,
The Barke with hand he caught, and on it selfe did type it ouer,
Yet Aiax shyneth in the floud which darknesse blinde doth couer.
At length attayning to a rocke his thundring crakes were these,
I conquered haue the force of fyre and rage of fighting seas,
It doth mee good, to mayster thus the anger of the skye,
With Pallas wrath, the lightning flames and floods tumultyng hye.
The terrour of the warlyck god once could not make me flye,
The force of Mars and Hector both at once sustaynd haue I.
Nor Phœbus dartes could me constrayne, from him one foote to shoon,
All these beside the Phrygians subdued we haue, and woon.
When other Mecocks flinges his darts shall I not them withstand?
Yea, what if Phœbus came himselfe, to pytch them with his hand?
When in hys melancholy moode he boasted without meane.
Then father Neptune lyft his heat aboue the waters cleane.
The beaten rocke with forked mace he vndermyning pluckte
From bottom loose, and suncke it downe, when downe himself he duckt.
There Aiax lay, by land, by fyre, and storme of seas destroid
But we by suffering shypwrack, are with greater plagues anoyd.
A subtyle shallow floud there is flowne on a stony shold,
Where crafty Caphar out of syght the lurking rocks doth hold,
Uppon whose sharpe and ragged tops the swelling tide doth flow,
The boyling waues do beat thereon still sweaing to and fro:
A turrret nodding ouer it doth hange with fallyng sway,
From whence on either side from height prospect espy wee may
Two seas: and on this hand the coast where Pelops once did raygne,
And Isthmus floud in narrow creeke, reculing back agayne,
Doth stop Ionian sea, least into Hellespont it run,
On th'other part is Lemnon floud that fame by bloudshed woon.
On th'other side Calcedon towne doth stand agaynst this forte,
And Aulis Ile that stayde our ships that thyther did resorte.
This Castell heere inhabyte doth our Palimedes sier,
Whose cursed hand helde in the top a brand of flaming fier.
That did alure our fleete, to turne on lurking rockes a ryght,
Entysing them with wily blaze to come vnto the lyght.
All into fitters shaken are the vessels on the sholde,
But other some doe swym, and some vpon the rockes are roulde,
And other slipping backe agayne so to eschew the Rocks,
His brused Rybs, and ratling sides agaynst eche other knocks,
Whereby the other hee doth breake, and broken is himselfe,
Then woulde they launce into the deepe, for now they dread the shelfe,
This peck of troubles chaunct to hap in dawning of the day.
But when the Gods (besought of vs) began the rage to stay,
And Phœbus golden beames began a freshe to render lyght,
The dolefull day diserted all the domage done by nyght.

CLY.
O whether may I now lament, and weepe with wayling sad?
Or shall I els in that my Spouse returned is bee glad?
I doe reioyce, and yet I am compelled to bewayle
My countreyes great calamity that doth the same assayle.
O Father great whose maiesty doth thundring Scepters shake,
The sowring Gods vnto the Greekes now fauourable make,
With garlands greene let euery head reioysing now be crounde.
To thee the pype in sacryfice melodiously doth sounde,
And on thyne aulter lyeth slayne an Heyferd lilly whight,
Before the same doe present stand with hanging lockes vndight,
A carefull Troyan company in heauy wofull plight,
On whom frō high the Lawrell tree with spredding braunch doth shyne,
Whose vertue hath inspyred them with Phœbus grace diuine,

CHORVS. CASSANDRA.
CAS.
Refraine your teares yt down your cheekes should tricle euermore
With woefull waylings piteously your pryuate friendes deplore
My myseries refuse a mate, so much accurst as I:
To rewe my carefull case, refrayne your lamentable cry.
As for myne owne distresse to moorne, I shall suffice alone.

CHO.
To mingle teares with other teares it doth vs good to mone:
In those the burning teary streames more ardently doe boyle,
Whom secret thoughts of lurking cares in priuy breast turmoyle:
Though that thou were a Gossop stout, that brooke much sorrow may
I warraunt thee, thou myghtest well, lament this sore decay.
Not sad and solemne Aedon that in the woodes doth singe
Her sugred Ditties finely timde on sweete and pleasaunt stringe:
Recording Itys woefull hap in diuers kynde of note,
Whom Progne though he were her chylde and of her wombe begot,
For to reueng his fathers fault, she did not spare to kill:
And gaue his flesh and bloude for foode the fathers Maw to fill.
Nor Progne who in Swallowes shape: vpon the rydges hye,
Of houses sits in Biston towne bewayling piteously,
With chattering throate, of Tereus her spouse the cruell act,
(Who did by strength and force of armes a shamefull brutishe fact.
Defile the syster of his wyfe, fayre Philomel by name,
And eke cut out her tonge, least shee should blab it to his shame)
Though Progne this her husbandes rape lamenting very sore
Doe wayle, and weepe with piteous plaint, yet can shee not deplore
Sufficiently, though that shee woulde, our countreyes piteous plight:
Though he himselfe among the Swans syr Cygnus lilly whight.
Who dwelles in streame of Ister floud, and Tanais channell coulde,
His weeping voyce most ernestly though vtter out hee woulde:
Although the morninge Halcyons with dolefull sighes doe wayle,
At such time as the fighting floudes their Cyex did assayle,
Or rashly wexing boulde attempt the Seas now layde at rest,
Or being very fearefull feede their broode in tottring nest,
Although as squemishe hearted men those priestes in bedlem rage,
Whom mother Cyble being borne on high in lofty stage,
Doth mooue, to play on shalmes, Atys the Phrygian to lament,
Yet can not they this lot bewayle, though brawn frō armes they rent.
Cassandra, in our teares there is no measure to refrayne,
Those miseryes all measure passe, that plunged vs in payne.
The sacred fillets from thy heads, why dost thou hale and pull?
They chiefly ought to worship God, whose hearts with griefe be dull.

CAS.
My feare by this affliction is cleane abated all,
Nor praying to the heauenly Ghostes for mercy will I call.
Although they were disposde to chafe and fret in fustten fumes,
They nothing haue me to displease, Fortune her force consumes.
Her spyte is worne vnto the stumpes, what countrey haue I left?
Where is my Syre? am I of all my systers quite bereft.
The sacred tombes and alter stones our bloud haue drunke & swylde,
Where are my brethren blessed knot? destroyed in the fylde.
All widdow Weues of Priams sonnes may easly now beholde,
The Pallace voyde and cast of court of silly Priam olde.
And by so many marriages so many Wyddowes are,
But onely Hellen comming from the coast of Lacon farre.
That Hecuba the mother of so many a pryncely wyght,
Whose fruitfull Wombe did breede the brand, of fyer blasing bryght:
Who also bare the swinge in Troy, by practise now doth learne,
New lawes and guise of desteny in bondage to discerne.
On her shee taketh heart of grace with lookes so sterne and wylde,
And barketh as a bedlem bitch about her strangled chylde
Deare Polidor, the remnaunt left, and onely hope of Troy,
Hector, and Priam to reuenge, and to restore her ioy.

CHO.
The sacred Phœbus Prophet is with sodayne silence husht:
A quaking trembling shiuering feare throughout her lims hath rusht:
Her Face as pale as Ashes is, her Fillits stande vpryght,
The soft and gentle goldilockes starte vp of her affright.
Her panting breathing breast stuft vp within doth grunt and grone.
Her glaring bryght and steaming Eyes are hether and thyther throwne.
Now glauncing vp and downe they roll: now standing stiffe they stare.
She stretcheth vp her head more streyght then commonly she bare,
Boult vp she goes, her wrastling Iawes that fast together clinge,
She doth attempt by diuers meanes, on sunder how to wringe.
Her mumbling words in gabling mouth shut vp she doth asswage,
As Menas mad that Bacchus aares doth serue in furious rage.

CAS.
How doth it hap (O sacred tops of high Parnassus hill)
That me berapt of sence, with prickes of fury fresh yee fill?
Why doe you me with ghost inspyre, that am besyde my wits?
O Phœbus none of thyne I am, releasse me from the fits:
Infixed in my burning breastes the flames extinguish out,
Who forceth me with fury fell to gad and trot about?
Or for whose sake inspyrde with spryte mad mumbling make must I?
Why play I now the Prophet colde, sith Troy in dust doth ly?
The day doth shrynke for dread of warre, the night doth dim mine eyes.
With mantell blacke of darknesse deepe cleane couerd is the skyes:
But loe two shining Sunnes at once in heauen appeareth bryght,
Two Grecian houses muster doe their armies twayne to fight.
Amonge the mighty Goddesis in Ida woodes I see,
The fatall sheepherd in his throne as vmpier plast to bee:
I doe aduise you to beware, beware (I say) of kynges,
(A kindred in whose cancred heartes olde priuy grudges springes)
That countrey clowne Ægisthus he this stocke shall ouerthrowe,
What doth this foolish despret dame her naked weapons showe?
Whose crowne entendeth shee to cracke in weede of Lacon lande,
With Hatchet (by the Amazons inuented first) in hand?
What face of mighty maiesty bewitched hath myne eyes?
The conquerour of saluage beastes Marmarick Lyon lyes,
Whose noble necke is wurried with currish fange and tooth
The churlish snaps of eger Lyonesse abyde hee dooth.
Alacke yee ghostes of all my friendes why should yee say that I,
Among the rest am onely safe, from perils farre to ly?
Fayne father follow thee I would, Troy being layde in dust.
O brother terrour of the Greekes, O Troyans ayde and trust.
Our auncient pomp I doe not see, nor yet thy warmed handes,
(That fearce on Greekish flaming fleete did fling the fyry brandes)
But mangled members, schorched corps, and cake thy valiaunt armes,
Hard piniond and bounde in bands sustayning greeuous harmes:
O Troyolus, a match vnfit encountering with Achill
(That myghty man of armes) to soone come vnto thee I will.
I doe delight, to sayle with them on stinking Stygian flood.
To vew the churlishe mastife our of hell, it doth mee good.
And gaping mouthed Kingdome darke of greedy Ditis raygne.
The Barge of filthy Phlegethon this day shall entertayne,
Mee conquering, and conquered, and Prynces soules with all.
You flitering shades I you beseeche, and eake on thee I call,
O Stygian poole (whereon the Gods theyr solemne othes doe take
Unbolt a whyle the Brasen bars of darksome Lymbo lake.
Whereby the Phrygian folke in hell may Micean state beholde.
Looke vp yee silly wretched soules, the fates are backward roulde.
The sqally sisters doe approch, and deale their bloudy strokes,
Their smultring faggots in their handes halfe brunte to ashes smokes.
Their vysages so pale doe burnt, with fyry flaming eyes:
A garment blacke theyr gnawed guts doth gyrde in mourning guyse.
Dire dread of night begins to howle, the bones of body vast
With lying long doe rot corrupt in miry pudle cast.
Beholde, the wery aged man his burning thyrst forgot,
The waters dalying at his lippes to catch endeuors not:
But mourneth for the funerall, that shall ensue anon.
The Troyan Prynce his royall robes tryumphant putteth on.

CHO.
The furious rage cleane ouerpast begins it selfe to slake,
And slyps away, euen as a Bull that deadly wounde doth take
On gasshed neck afront the aares: come let vs ease at last
Her lymbes, that of the spryte of God hath felt the mighty blast.
Returning home agayne at length and crounde with Lawrell bow
(A signe of worthy victory) is Agamemnon now.
The Wyfe to meete her Husband, doth her speedy passage ply,
Returning hand in hand, and foote by foote most louingly.

THE FOVRTH ACTE.

AGAMEMNON. CASSANDRA.
CAS.
At Troy so was it wont to bee.

AG.
Let vs to Th'alters worship gyue.

C.
At Th'alters died my sire:

A.
Pray wee to Ioue.

C.
To Ioue whose grace diuine doth me inspire?

AG.
Dost thou suppose that Troy thou seest?

C.
And Priam eke I see.

AG.
Troy is not heere.

C.
where Helen is there take I Troy to bee,

AG.
Feare not as maide to serue thy dame.

C.
Nay fredome draweth ny.

AG.
Take thou no thought how thou shalt liue.

C.
All cares for to defy,
Death giues a courage vnto mee.

AG.
Yet say I once agayne
There is no daunger left, whereby thou mightest hurt sustayne.

CA.
But yet much troublous daūger doth hong ouer thy head I wot.

AG.
What mischiefe may a victor dread?

CA.
Euen yt hee dreadeth not.

AG.
Yee trusty meny of my men come cary her away,
Till of the spryte shee ryd her selfe, least fury force her say
That may be preiudiciall, her tongue she cannot frame.
To thee O Father flinging forth the lightnings flasshing flame,
That dost disperse the cloudes, and rule the course of euery starre,
And guyde the Globe of Earth, to whom the boottes woon by warre
With triumphe victors dedicate: to thee O Iuno hight
The syster deare of doughty Ioue, (thy husband full of might)
Both I and Greece with flesh and bloude, and eke our vowed beast,
And gorgious gyftes of Arabie, giue worship to thy hest.

Chorus.

O GREECE by noble Gentlemen in honour shyning cleare,
O GREECE to wrathfull IVNO thou that art the darling deare,
Some iolly worthy lusty bloude thou fosters euermore,
Thou hast made euen the Gods, that were a number odde before.
That puissaunt mighty Hercules a noble Impe of thyne
Deserued by his trauels twelue, rapt vp in heauen to shyne.
For whom the heauens did alter course, and Iupiter with all
Did iterate the howles of nyght, when dampishe dewe doth fall.
And charged Phœbus chariot swyfte to trot with slower pace,
And leasurely bright lady Moone thy homwarde Wayne to trace,
Bryght Lucifer that yeare by yeare his name a newe doth chaunge,
Came backe agayne, to whom the name of Hesper seemed straunge.
Aurora to her common course her reared head addrest,
And couching backward downe agayne the same shee did arest,
Upon the shoulder of her spouse, whose yeares with age are worne
The east did feele, so felt the west, that Hercules was borne.
Dame nature coulde not cleane dispatch, to vtter in one night,
That boystous lad: the whyrling worlde did wayght for such a wight.
O babe whose shoulders vnderprop, the ample spacious sky,
In clasped armes thy prowesse did the crusshed Lyon try.
Who from his fyry yawning throate spewes out his broyling brande,
The nimble hynde in Menall mount hath knowne thy heauy hande.
The Bore hath felt thy fyst, which did Arcadia destroy.
The monstrous conquerde Bull hath rorde that Creta did anoy.
The Dragon dyre that breeding beast in Lerna poole he slewe,
And chopping of one head forbad thereof to ryse anewe.
With clubbed brusing battring batte he crankly did subdew.
(The brethren twins yt lewde on Teate) whereof three monsters grew.
Of tryple formed Gerion the spoyle into the east,
A droue of Cattell Hercules did fetch out of the weast.
Away from tyraunt Diomede the Thracian horse he led,
Which neyther with the grasse that grew by Styrmon floud he fed,
Nor yet on Heber bankes, but them the villayne did refresh
His greedy mounching cramming iades with avaunts bloud and flesh.
Their rawfed Iawes imbrewde were with the carmans bloud at last,
The spoyles and shaftes Hipolyte saw from her bosome wrast
As sone as he with clattring shaft the dusky cloude did smite,
The Stymphall byrde that shadowed the sunne, did take her flight.
The fertill tree that apples beares of golde, did feare him sore,
Which neuer yet acquayntaunce had with Tasters tooth before.
But whipping vp with liuely twigges into the ayre she flyes,
And whyle the chinking plate doth sound then Argos full of eyes,
The watchman shrinking close for colde that sleepe yet neuer knew,
Doth heare the noyse whyle Hercules with mettall all of yellow hew
Well loden packs away, and left the groue befliched cleane.
The hound of hell did holde his tongue drawne vp in tryple cheane,
Nor barkt with any boughinge throate nor coulde abyde the hewe,
Or colour of the heauenly lyght, whose beames hee neuer knewe.
When thou wert captayne Generall, and didst conduct our Hoste,
(They that) of Dardans Lygne, to come theyr Stocke doe falsly boste,
Were vanquished by force of armes and since they felt agayne
Thy Gray goose winge, whose bitternesse to feare might thē constrayne.

THE FIFTE ACTE.

[THE FIRST SCEANE.]

CASSANDRA.
Within a reuell rexe is kept, as sore as euer was,
Euen at the ten yeares siege of Troy: What thing is this? (alas)
Get vp my soule, and of the rage auengmeent worthy craue:
Though Phrygians wee bee vanquished, the victory we haue.
The matter well is brought aboute: vp Troy thou rysest now,
Thou flat on floore hast pulde down Greece, to ly as low as thou.
Thy Conquerour doth turne his Face: my prophesying spright
Did neuer yet disclose to mee so notable a sight:
I see the same, and am thereat, and busted in the broyle,
No vision fond fantasticall my senses doth beguile:
Such fare as Prygians feasted with on last vnhappy night
At Agamemnons royall courte full daintily they dight:
With purple hangings all adornde the brodred Beds doe shyne,
In olde Assaracks goblets gylt they swincke and swill the wyne.
The King in gorgyous royall robes on chayre of State doth sit,
And pranckt with pryde of Pryams pomp of whom he conquerd it.
Put of this hostile weede, to him, (the Queene, his Wyfe gan say,)
And of thy louing Lady wrought weare rather thys aray.
This garment knit. It makes mee loth, that shiuering heere I stande.
O shall a King be murthered, by a banisht wretches hande?
Out, shall Th'adulterer destroy the husbande of the Wyfe?
The dreadfull destinies approcht, the goode that last in lyfe
He tasted of before his death, theyr maysters bloud shall see,
The gobs of bloude downe dropping on the wynde shall powred bee.
By traytrous tricke of trapping weede his death is brought about,
Which being put vpon his heade his handes coulde not get out.
The stopped poake with mouth set ope his muffled head doth hyde,
The mankinde dame with trembling hand the swerd drew from her side,
Nor to the vtmost of her might it in his flesh shee thrast,
But in the gieuing of the stroke shee stayed all agast,
Hee as it were a bristled Bore entangled in the net
Among the bryars in busshy woodes yet tryeth out to get.
With strugling much the shrinking bands more streightly he doth bind.
He stryues in vayne, and would slip of the snare that doth him blind.
Which catcheth holde on euery syde. But yet th'entangled wreatch
Doth grope about, his subtle foes with griping hand to catch.
But furious Tyndaris preparde the Pollaxe in her hande,
And as the priest to sacrifice at Th'alter side doth stande,
And vewes with eye the Bullockes necke, eare that with Axe he smite,
So to and fro shee heaues her hand to stryke and leauell right.
He hath the stroke: dispatcht it is: not quite chopt of the head
It hangeth by a litle crop: heere from the Carkasse dead
The spouling bloude came gusshing out: and there the head doth lye,
With wallowing, bobling, mumbling tongue: nor they do by and bye
Forsake him so: the breathlesse coarse Ægist doth all to coyle:
And mangled hath the gasshed corpes: whyle thus hee doth him spoyle,
She putteth to her helping hand: by detestable deede
They both accorde vnto the kynde, whereof they doe proceede.
Dame Helens syster right shee is, and hee Thyestes sonne:
Loe doubtfull Titan standeth still the day now being donne,
Not knowing whether best to keepe still on his wonted way,
Or turne his wheeles vnto the path of dyre Thyestes day.

THE SECONDE SCEANE.

ELECTRA.
O thou whom of our Fathers death the onely helpe wee haue,
Fly, fly, from force of furious foes, make hast thy selfe to saue:
Our house is topsey turuey tost, our Stocke is cast away,
Our ruthfull realmes to ruin ronne, our kingdomes doe decay.
Who cometh heere in Chariot swift thus galloping a mayne?
Brother, disguised in thy weede let mee thy person fayne.
O Bussard blynde, what dost thou meane from forrayne folke to fly?
Whom dost thou shun? it doth behoue to feare this family.
Orestes now bee boulde, and set all shiuering feare a side,
The certayne succour of a trusty friende I haue espide.

THE THIRD SCENE.

Strophilus. Electra.
ELE.
By treason that my mother wrought, my Father lieth slayne,
And drincking of their fathers cup the chyldren doe complayne.
Ægist engroceth Castels got by fornication.

STR.
A lack that of so longe a tyme, filicity is none.

ELE.
I thee request euen for the loue my father thou doest owe,
And for the honour of the crowne, whose brute abrode doth growe
In euery coast: and by the Gods that diuersly doe deale,
Take into thy tuicion, conuey away, and steale,
This poore Orest: such kinde of theft is piety in deede.

STR.
Although that Agamemnons death doth teach mee to take heede,
Yet will I vndertake the same, and with all diligence
Orestes shall I goe about with strength to haue thee hence.
Prosperity requireth faith, but trouble exacts the same,
Haue heere a pryce for those that doe contende and wage in game.
An Ornament with comely grace ordaynde to deck the brow,
And let thy heade be couerde with this greene and pleasaunt bow,
And cary this victorious triumphant braunche in hand.
God graunt this Paulme that planted was in fertill Pisa land,
(Where solemne games were celebrate Ioues honour to expresse)
May both a sauegarde bee to thee, and bring thee good successe.
Thou that bestryds thy fathers steedes, as he before hath done,
Goe stryke a league of amity with Pylades my sonne.
Now nimble Nagges let Greece heereof recording testify,
With headlong scouring course amayne this traytrous country fly.

ELE.
Hee is escapte and gone, and with vnmeasurable might
The Chariot horse with rayne at will doe scud out of my sight.
Now free from perill on my foes attendaunce will I make.
And offer willingly my head the deadly wounde to take.
The cruell conqueresse of her spouse is come, whose spotted weede
With sprinkels (signe of slaughter) doe beare recorde of her deede.
Her goary handes new bathde in bloude as yet they bee not dry,
Her rough and churlishe rigorous lookes the fact doe notify.
Unto the Temple will I trudge. Cassandra suffer mee,
Opprest with egall griefe, take parte of sacrifice with thee.

THE FOVRTH SCENE.

Clytemnestra. Electra. Ægisthus, Cassandra.
ELEC.
I haue wyth my virginity the bowres of Baudes forsooke.

CLY.
What man is hee, that euer thee to bee a vyrgin tooke?

E.
What your own daughter?

C.
With thy mother more modest should thou be.

EL.
Doe you at length begin to preach, such godlines to me.

CL.
A manly stomacke stout thou hast with swelling hawty hart.
Subdued with sorrow learne thou shall to play a womans part.

EL.
A swerd and buckler very well a woman doth beseeme,
(Except I dote.)

CL.
Thy selfe dost thou haylefellowe wt vs esteeme?

EL.
What Agamemnon new is this, whom thou hast got of late?

CL.
Hereafter shall I tame, and teach thy gyrlish tongue to prate.
And make thee know, how to a Queene thy taunting to forbeare.

EL.
The whilst (thou Wyddow) aūswere me directly to this geare.
Thy husband is bereued quight of breath, his lyfe is donne.

CL.
Enquier where thy brother is, so seeke about my sonne.

EL.
Hee is departed out of Greece.

CL.
Goe fetch him out of hande.

EL.
Fetch thou my father vnto mee.

CL.
Giue me to vnderstande,
Where doth he lurking hyde his head? where is he shrunke away?

EL.
All plunge of perills past hee is, and at a quiet stay.
And in another Kyngdome where no harme hee doth mistrust,
This aunswere were sufficient, to please a Parent iust.
But one whose breast doth boyle in wrath, it cannot satisefy.

CL.
To day by death thou shalt receyue thy fatall destiny,

EL.
On this condition am I pleasde, the Aulter to forsake,
If that this hand shall doe the deede, my death when I shall take.
Or els if in my throate to bath thy blade, thou doe delight,
Most willingly I yeelde my throate, and giue thee leaue to smite.
Or if thou will chop of my heade in brutishe beastly guise,
My necke a wayting for the wounde out stretched ready lies.
Thou hast committed sinfully a great and grieuous guilt.
Goe purge thy hardned hands, the which thy husbands bloud haue spilt.

CL.
O thou that of my perills all dost suffer part with mee,
And in my realme dost also rule with egall dignity,
Ægisthus, art thou glad at this? (as doth her not behoue,)
With checks and taunts ye daughter doth her mothers mallice moue,
Shee keepes her brothers counsell close conueyde out of the way.

ÆGI.
Thou malapert and witlesse wenche, thyne eluishe prating stay,
Refrayne those wordes vnfit thy Mothers glowing cares to vex.

EL.
What shall the breeder of this broyle controll me with his checks,
Whose fathers guilt hath caused him to haue a doubtfull name,
Who both is to his sister, sonne, and Nephew to the same?

CL.
To snap her head of with thy swerd Ægist dost thou refrayne?
Let her giue vp the ghost: or bryng her brother straight agayne:
Let her be lockt in dungeon darck, and let her spend her dayes,
In Caues & Rocks, with painefull pangues, torment her euery wayes.
I hope him whom she hidden hath shee will agayne discry,
Through being clapt in pryson strong and suffring pouerty
With yrksome and vnsauory smells on euery syde annoyde,
Enforst to weare a wyddowes weede, er wedding day enioyde:
Put in exile and banishment when eche man doth her hate:
So shall she bee by misery compeld to yeelde to late,
Prohibyted of holsome ayre fruition to haue.

EL.
Graunt me my dome by meanes of death to passe vnto my graue.

CL.
I would haue graunted it to thee, if thou should it deny.
Unskilfull is the tyraunt, who by suffring wretches dy
Doth ende theyr paynes.

EL.
what after death doth any thing remayne?

CL.
And if thou doe desyre to dye, the same see you refrayne.
Lay hands sirs on this wondrous wretch, whom being caryed on,
Euen to the furthest corner of my iurisdiction
Farre out beyond Mycœnas land in bonds let her be bound,
With darknesse dim in hiddeous holde let her be closed round.
This captiue Spouse and wicked Queane, the Trull of Prynces bed
Shall pay her paynes, and suffer death by losing of her head.
Come, hale her on, that she may followe, that way my spouse is gon,
Whose loue from mee entised was.

CAS.
Doe not thus hale mee on.
I will before you take the way, these tydings first to tell
Unto my countrey men of Troy beneath in lowest hell.
How ouerquelmed ships ech where, are spread the seas vppon:
And Micœne countrey conquerde, is brought in subiection.
He that of thousand captaynes was graunde captayne generall,
Come to as great calamity as Troy it selfe did fall,
Entrapped was by traytrous trayne, and whoredome of his Wyfe,
And by a gyft receaued of her, depriued of his Lyfe.
Let vs not linger: on with mee, and thankes I doe you giue.
I ioy, that it might be my hap, thus after Troy to liue.

CL.
Go to, prepare thy selfe to dye thou frantique raging wight.

CAS.
The fransy fits of fury fell on you shall also light.

EVRIBATES, Added to the Tragedy, by the Translator.
Alas yee hatefull hellish Hagges, yee furies foule and fell,
Why cause yee rusty rancours rage in noble heartes to dwell?
And cancred hate in boyling breastes to grow from age to age?
Coulde not the graundsires payneful pangues the childrens wrath asswage?
Nor famyne faynt of pyning paunche, with burning thyrst of hell,
Amid the blackest streame of Sticks where poysning breathes do dwel.
Where vapors vile parbraking out from dampish myry mud,
Encrease the paynes of Tantalus deserude by guiltles bloud,
Could not thine owne offence suffice Thyestes, in thy Lyfe,
To file thy brothers spousall Bed, and to abuse his Wyfe?
But after breath from body fled, and Lyfe thy Lymmes hath left,
Can not remembraunce of reuenge out of thy breast be reft?
What, yet hast thou not layde thy lips, ta taste of Lethes floude?
Now afte death why dost thou come to moue thy sonne to bloude?
Coulde cruell Ditis graunt to thee thy pasporte backe agayne?
To worke this woe vpon the world, and make such rigour raygne,
That Clytemnestra is become the fifty sister dyre
Of Danaus daughters, that did once theyr husbands death conspyre.
Loe here how fickle fortune giues but brytle fading ioy.
Loe, hee who late a Conquerour tryumphed ouer Troy,
Enduring many sturdy stormes with mighty toyle and payne
To sowe the seede of fame, hath reapt small fruite thereof agayne.
When as his honour budding forth with flowre began to bloome,
(Alas) the stocke was hewed downe and sent to deadly doome.
And they that of his victory and comming home were glad,
To sodayne mourning chaunge their myrth with heauinesse bestad.
The lusty pompe of royall courte is deade: (O dolefull day)
The people mone theyr prynces death with woe and weale away:
With howling, crying, wringing hands, with sobs, wt sighes, & teares,
And wt their fists they beate their breasts, they pull & hale their heares.
And as the sheepe amased run, and rampe abonte the fielde,
When as theyr shepherd to the Wolfe his goary throate doth yeelde,
Euen so as mad they rage and raue throughout Micœnas land,
Depriued of theyr Prynce, they feare the bloudy Tyrauntes hand.
While thus were woefull waylings hard in euery place about,
The good Cassandra (come from Troy) to death is haled out.
Like as the Swan, who when the time of death approcheth nye,
By nature warned is thereof, and pleased well to dye,
Doth celebrate her funerall with dirge and solemne songe:
Euen so the noble vyrgin who in woe hath liued longe,
Most ioyfull goes she to her death with milde and pleasaunt face,
Stout boulstring out her burly breast with pryncely porte and grace.
Nothing dismayde with courage bolde, and chearefull countenaunce,
On stage ordeyned for her death shee gan her selfe aduaunce:
As though she had not thyther come, to leaue her lothsome lyfe,
As though she had not come, to taste the stroke of fatall knyfe.
But euen as if in brydale bed her iourney were to meete
Corebus deare, not hauing mynde of death, nor winding sheete,
When looking rounde on euery side she tooke her leaue of all,
From vapourde eyes of younge and olde the trickling teares doe fall.
The Greekes them selues to griefe are moude to see this heauy sight,
So pity pearst the headmans heart, that thrise aboute to smite
He stayde the smot: with shiuering hand yet once agayne he tryed.
And from her shoulders stroke her heade. And thus the vyrgin dyed.
But now the Greekes another cause of mourning haue in hand:
Orestes, Agamemnons sonne, is forst to fly the land.
Amonge olde rotten ragged Rockes there lies an vgly place,
A Dungeon deepe, as darke as hell, vnknowne to Phœbus face.
An holow huge wyde gaping hole, with way still bending downe,
Whose mouth with venonous wythred weedes is hid and ouergrowne,
Where stinking smels come belching out from filthy durty dyke,
Where Uerment vyle doe creepe and craule, in hell is not the lyke.
Ilfauourde, foule misshapen bugges, doe lurke about this caue,
With dreadfull sounds, and roaring noyse within the pit they raue.
Euen heather is Electra sent, in darckenesse deepe to lye,
In pouerty, and comfortlesse without the lyght of skye,
Fast clogde with Yron boults and Chaynes, thus by her mother layde
In torments, till by her to death Orestes be betrayde:
Who (as Cassandra telleth) shall reuenge his fathers death,
Depryue with swerd th'adulterour, and Mother both of breath.
So after all these bloudy broyle, Greece neuer shall bee free:
But bloud for bloud, aud death by turnes, the after age shall see.

THE TENTH TRAGEDY OF LANNAE SENECA, Entituled HERCVLES OETÆVS: Translated out of Latin into Englishe by I. S..

The Speakers names.

• HERCVLES.
• ALCMENA,
• HYLLVS.
• NVTRIX.
• IOLE.
• CHORVS.
• PHILOCTETES.
• DEIANIRA.

THE FIRST ACTE.

HERCVLES alone.
O Lorde of Ghostes whose fyrye flashe (that forth thy hand doth shake)
Doth cause the trembling Lodges twayne of Phœbus Carre to quake,
Raygne reachlesse nowe: in euery place thy peace procurde I haue
Aloofe where Nereus lockes vp lande Empalde in winding Waue.
Thwack not about with thunder thumpes, the rebell kinges bee downe,
The rauening tyrauntes Scepterlesse, are pulled from their crowne:
By mee all daunted is whereon, thy boults thou shouldst bestowe.
And yet O Father, yet the Heauens are still withhelde mee froe,
At all assayes I serue, as might an Impe of Ioue behoue,
And that thou ought to Father mee, my stepdame well doth proue.
Why dost thou linger in delay, is Heauen of vs afraide?
Seeme wee so awfull, fell, and fierce? and wherefore are wee staide?
And cannot Atlas boysteous backe on stouping shoulder tough,
Upholde the payse of Hercules, and heauen well inough?
What is it fier? what is it Ioue that thee so much detarres?
What may thee force keepe backe thy sonne from scaling of the Starres
For death hath let me passe againe from dungeon darke to thee,
When mischiefes fell and monsters all destroyde and spoyled bee
That eyther Lande, or Seas, or Ayre, Or hell engender coulde
Arcadian Lion none to raunge in saluage Nemea wolde.
The Stymphall Foule hath chased bin with Bowe, and Brasell boulte,
No nimble heart of Menalus doth lye in hill nor houlte
The Dragon daunting with his bloud hath goarde the goulden groue.
And Hydra hath his courage coolde, and Diomedes droue
Whose puffed paunches pampred were with stoare of straungers bloud
That scoarde the Coaste and barren bankes of cruell Heber floud
I slaughterd them, and that the force of foe might well bee scene.
I prowlde away the booties of the prowde Amazon Queene,
Of silent shades in glummy Goulphes the dreadfull doomes I saw
On Cerber black the Tartar Tike the sonne did shine with awe,
And he with steaming Goggle eyes hath glyed vpon the soone:
Anteus yawnes, and gapes no more whose gasping breath is doone.
A front his alters Busir fell was knockt vnto the grounde,
By him whose hande gaue Gerion his deepe and deadly wounde
And slew the mighty Bull that was to hundred heartes a dreade,
All noyous plagues I spoyled haue that euer Tellus bread,
And daunted by my hand they lye: the Gods now neede not fret:
The worlde to aunswere Iunoes yre, no monsters now can get.
Now shew thy valiaunt sonne his sire, or set him in the clowdes,
Thou shalt not neede to bee my guide, my selfe will climbe the shrowdes.
Doe thou my passage but allow, and I shall finde away:
But if thou dreade, that monsters more the earth engender may,
Hast on eache monster hideous, to shew it selfe in time,
Whyle Hercules hath his aboade beneath the heauenly Clyme.
For who encounter shall the fiendes? who ist that Grecia hath,
That may be meete, to bide the brunt of mighty Iunoes wrath?
My prayse hurtes not my health: my fame doth fly, from land to land:
The ysy poale doth know mee, where the northerne beare doth stand:
The easterlinge encombred with the gleede of scorching sunne:
The south, where Phœbe by crooked cleaze of Tropick Crab doth rūne:
In euery coast O Titan where thou dost thy selfe reueale,
How I haue met thee face to face, to thee I doe appeale.
Aloofe beyonde the compasse of thy light I set my foote,
And neuer coulde thy blaze so farre his glymsinge glory shoote.
As I haue forst the honour of my triumphes for to streatch,
The day it selfe hath had his stint, within my trauells reatch
Dame Nature faylde, the worlde was shogd beside his center dew,
And ougsome night in shimmering shade, from dungeon darck I drew,
And cankred Chaos lodged aloafe encountred mee amayne:
Yet from the deepe I gat to ground, whence none returnes agayne.
Wee straue against the Ocean stormes, I balased the keele
Fraught with my waight, that wrestling waues could not cōpell it reele.
What heapes of hazardes tempted I through all the open ayre,
To qualify thy wedlocks wrath can mischiefe none repayre
The earth would loath such baggage bred as I would match by might,
Yea monsters none are to be founde, the fiendes doe shun my sight.
And Hecules for want of fiendes agaynst him selfe did rage
What eluishe creatures curst did I with naked arme asswage.
Was euer any peuish thing so big vpon the ground
That coapt with mee, but that my hand alone did it confound.
Not hetherto from vermin vyle through faynting feare I leapt
In babish yeares, not when to me in Cradell layde they leapt:
Eache thing that was commaunded me, at ease I did obay:
Thus free from paynefull toyle to me there neuer past a day.
What vermin haue I vanquished, no king commaunding it?
My courage cloyes me more then all the wyles of Iunoes wit.
But what auayleth me to rid mankinde of fickle feare?
The Gods yet cannot raygne in rest: while vp the world doth peare,
New rid of furious fiendes, it sees a loft in starry skies
The cruell creatures all, that earst on earth did sore aggrise.
Dame Iuno hath transport the elues The scorching Crab doth creepe
Abouth the burning zone, and loofe at Affrica doth keepe
The Tropick line: and Haruest far he feedes with parching heate:
To Virgo, Leo turnes the time, and in a reaking sweate
He buskling vp his burning Mane, doth dry the dropping south.
And swallowes vp the slabby cloudes in fyry foming mouth.
The Urchins all are creapt to skies, and haue preuented mee:
I Conqueror from Earth to Heauen, my trauells all may see:
These gargle Faces grim on heauen, Dame Iuno first did set:
As though thereof the terrour might to skies my passage let:
Although she scatter them in Skyes, or make the Heauens forlorne
More then ye Earth, or hellike Goulphes, (wherby ye Gods are sworne)
Yet roome for Hercles shalbe made, if after monsters quelde,
Or battells fought, or hellike hound in Chaynes as captiue helde,
If all exploytes cannot preuayle, in skies a place to gayne,
Then soukt vp bee the midland Sea twixt Barbarie, and Spayne,
That eyther shore may ioyne in one, with channell none betweene
There will I dam the running streame, that Sea shall none be seene.
Or as for Corinth out shot land that tweene two seas doth lye,
It shall giue way to eyther streame, that through the same shall fly.
And when the seas on passage haue, the Fleete of Athens towne
May floate in Channell new: thus shall the world turne topsidowne:
Let Ister turne his streame, and Tanaus flow another way:
Graunt Ioue a placket, graunt, whereby the Gods vpholde I may.
Discharge thy thunder dint, where I shall keepe due watch, & warde,
If eyther to the ysy poale thou bid mee haue regarde,
Or burning zone, heere let the Gods full safe all force defy:
Prynce Pæan purchast hath an house amid the cristall sky,
And well deserued he the temples of Pernassus hill,
For slaughter of a Dragon made? how oft recouering still
In Hydra poyson Python lay? with Bacchus Perseus strong
By lesse desert then Hercules, haue crept the Gods among.
But all the East (a mighty coast) to bond is brought, by him.
Whom Iuno spightes, how stearne a bug was snaky Gorgon grim?
What Impe is he, begot betweene my stepdame dyre and thee,
Whose praysed paynes haue purchaste him a place in heauen to be?
The heauen that on my shoulders I haue bolsterd vp I craue:
But Lycas, (partner of my paynes) dispatch our triumph braue.
Display in pomp the ruin of Euritus house, and Crowne:
And for the sacrifice with speede strike yee the Bullocks downe,
Where as the Aare (that doth aduaunce the Church of Cenei Ioue.)
Lyes open to Euboea sea: that wrackfull waue doth moue.
IOLE.
But carefull caytiffe I doe not bewayle forlorne
The sweeping flames, nor Idolles, wyth their tattred Temples torne:
Nor that the Fathers burne together with theyr Sonnes,
That Gods, & men, that tombes & Church, at once to ruin runnes.
Upon the common care wee doe not powre our playnt,
And Fortune wills vs turne our teares with other woes attaynt:
And thus my frowning Fate allotteth vnto mee
Another kinde of wretchednes, that must lamented bee:
What shall I first be weepe? Or chiefly what complayne?
And to bewayle them all at once, woulde mitigate my payne.
Alas that but on breast Dame Nature did mee frame,
That blowes agreeing to my griefe might bounce vpon the same.
With weeping Sipill rocke, brouse yee my balefull breast,
Or on Eridanus silent shore in sorrowes let mee rest,
Where as the mourning troupe of Nymphes doe hale theyr heares,
To wayle the death of Phaëton with showres of dropping teares.
Or els in Sicill rocke cause mee encoucht to dwell,
Where Scilla Hag with howling noyse, and barking big doth yell.
Or else in Lynnets shape let me tell on my tale,
And weepe with Adon in the woods, or turnde to Nightingale
As Lady Philomele, recordes with weeping lay
In shade of hawty Ismar hill vpon a tender spray,
With soking sighes her griefe, O Gods: and mee addight
In shape, that may be suetable vnto my playntiffe plight.
And of my piteous moane let craggy Trachin sounde,
Sith Myrra sawe the teares where in Dame Venus eyes were drownde,
That shee for Adonis with smoky sighes did shed,
And Halcion might wayle at will her louing Ceyx dead:
The Lady Tastalis gat life to weepe alone,
And Philomele did chaunge her shape, and earnefully did mone
Her tender Itis death: (alas) why are not yet
With flickering Fethers fit for wynges, my naked armes beset?
O happy shall I bee, and happily bee bleast,
When in the woods as in an house I make my shrowding neast,
And sitting like a birde vpon my countrey grounde
In dolefull harmony shall tune the cares, that me confounde.
That thus the people fond may talke how they haue seene
In piteous likenesse of a Byrde, the Daughter of a Queene.
I carefull caytiffe, I, behelde my Fathers fate,
When in the Courte a deadly club did Palt him on the pate,
And sprawling on the floore with braynes pasht out hee laye,
Alas if fates would let thy Coarse be shrynde in pit of Claye,
What flowing teares (O Syer) would I on thee bestowe?
And coulde I brooke it Toxeus, to see thy death with woe?
That wert vnwaynde in yeares, and eake in pits vnpaysde,
Upon whose naked Cheekes the pregnaunt sap no hayres had raysde.
Why should I parents deare your fates with teares detest,
Whom death with hand indifferent hath taken hence to rest:
My Fortune seekes my teares, due to myne owne distresse,
Now as a captiue must I dawnce attendaunce more and lesse,
Upon my Ladyes rock: and twyst her threde yspoon,
Woe worth my beauty, for the which in dread of death I run.
And for thy sake alone my stock hath lost his lyfe,
Whyle that my syer Denyeth me to Hercles as his wyfe
And did for feare refuse his stepfather to bee,
But to our Laydes balefull bower as Captiues hence goe wee:

THE SECONDE ACTE.

Nutrix. Deianira.
NV.
My Foster gyrle, of rauing mynde, these dreary playnts asswage,
Forbeare this heate, and brydell yet the rigour of thy rage:
Behaue thy selfe for such an one, as men may worthy iudge
The noble Spouse of Hercules.

DEI.
Shall Iole (slauish drudge)
Bring basterd brethren to my Babes? of her that is a slaue
Shall Iupiter the God of heauen forsooth a daughter haue?
The flashing flames, and fighting floodes shall ioyne togeather first.
The northern beare to Marble seas shall stoupe to quench his thyrst.
Yea vengeaunce, vengeance, will I haue, though on thy back thou wyeld
The boysteous heauens, and all the worlde doe peace vnto thee yelde:
There is a thing shall stinge thee worse then Hydra hissing Snake,
The corsey curst of angry Wyfe. Doth any firy Flake
Upthrowne from Etnas boyling Foarge, so sowse the beaten skyes?
More then all things that thou hast daunt, my ghost shall thee aggryse.
Shall thou prefer a seruill Trull before thy wedded Wyfe?
For feare of many monsters more I tendred still thy lyfe,
And now for to encrease my care, I see no monsters lurke,
And now steps in an hateful whoore, (which more my minde doth vrke)
To cumber vs, as ill as fiendes. O Father thou of might,
The shielde of Gods: and Titan thou, that bearst the Lamp of lyght,
I onely vnto Hercules a loyall wyfe abod,
And to an Harlots vse are turnde my prayers made to God:
The fruite of my felicity a Strumpet doth obtayne,
And for an Harlots loue yee Gods haue harde my prayers vayne:
Is Hercules returnde for her? O griefe not yet content.
Deuise some tearing torments, seeke some pangues, and punishment.
Let Iuno learne of mee, what force a womans fury hath.
Shee knowes not how in deepe despight, to vse her harming wrath.
For mee you did these battayles wage: for my sake Acheloe
Did let his streaming bloud amid his wamblinge waues to floe.
When snarling Adders shape hee tooke, and to the boysteous Bull
Hee gieuing vp his sloughy shape did bende his mallice full
And thus thou foylde a thousand foes by conquest of this one:
Yet presently thou plunged art, and that by mee alone:
A prysoner now must be preferde before thy loyall wyfe.
Ile none of that; but euen the day that first begins the strife,
And to our wedlock brings the breach, shalbe thy dismall day,
And knap in twayne the fatall twist where on thy lyfe doth stay:
What meaneth this? my mynde relents. My mallice breakes his rage:
O wretched griefe why dost thou faynte? thy spight wilt thou asswage?
With fealty of a faythfull Wyfe dost thou thy conscience charge?
Why lets thou not my boyling yre for to encrease at large?
Why dost thou slake thy frying fits? this mallady still suruiue.
Euen now I able was with him for maistership to striue.
In deede I haue not craued ayde: yet Stepdame Iuno will,
To weilde my handes to worke his wracke, bee heere assistant still:

NV.
What treachery entendest thou mad bedlem to commit?
Thy husbād wilt thou murder wreatch? whose flickering fame doth flit?
From east to west: whose bryght renowne the earth coulde not contayne
But raysde aloft, from marble Skies it doth rebounde agayne:
The mother Earth shall ryse in armes for to reuenge his graue.
His former Stepsiers stocke heereby the ouerthrow shall haue:
And all Ætolia royall bloud will feele an vtterfall:
In quarrell of thy Hercules the worlde conspier shall.
Then silly wight how many plagues shalt thou alone abyde?
But bee't that from the face of man thou myght thy body hyde.
Yet Ioue the lightning leames of heauen doth holde in armed hand,
Beholde the flying fyry flakes in ranckes all ready stand:
And threatning thunders thumping thicke doe bounce out all the day.
Deathes dungeon (that thou dost defy) full duely scarce thee may.
For there his Uncle vmpyre sies: Myche where thou mayst vnspyde.
And euery where thou shalt perceaue the Gods to him allied.

DE.
I graunt it despert deede, whereto dispayre now doth me driue.

NV.
Die sure thou shall.

DE.
And die I will, (as presently I liue)
The loyall spouse of Hercules. And ere this night doe passe,
Day shall not see that Deianire a liuing Wydow was.
Nor of my spousall bed an whoore shall get the interest.
The dawning day shall sooner make the morning peere in West,
Unto the eastwarde Indians the ysy poale shall melt,
And freezing Scithian first shall fry with flames that hee hath felt
Of Phœbus feruent wheele: ere mee Thessalia Trulls shall see
Diuorst: my brydall blase shall with my bloud iquenched bee:
And eyther let him murdred bee, or take away my Lyfe.
So soothly let him count among the foyled fiendes his Wyfe.
Among Alcides labours let mee reckned bee as on.
His loue in heart I holde, vntill the vtter gaspe bee gon.
Thus vndiuorst (not vnreuengde) I will to Hercles tombe.
It Iole be with chylde by him, ile teare it from her wombe,
And rent it with these pawes of myne Yea in the wedding place,
I dying at her fearce will set my tallantes in her face:
Let him not spare in raumping rage a sacrifyce to make
Of me vppon his wedding day, when he his Trull doth take,
So that I fallyng downe may light on Ioles senceles coarse
He dyes a happy man, that first hath quelde his foes by force.

Nu
O wretched wight why dost thou thus encrease thy fuming heate:
And feede thy fury wittingly least hap should thee defeate.
He loued Lady Iole, but whyle her fathers crowne
Stoode florishyng in royall state and were not battred downe,
And as vnto the daughter of a King hee suter was,
But when from type of hawty pompe she did to thraldome passe
He shooke her of hot loue was coold, and now her bitter bale
Would not allow the wracked kele to beare to hie a sale:
Unleefull thinges that should be shund we gredely desyre.
But matters meeter for our state we seldome do require.
The pytying of aduersity doth oft enkindle more
The feruent fittes of loue, and this perhappe doth vrge him sore,
To see her reaft of natyue soyle, it may his fancy touch,
Her hayre not tuct with tresses trimme, nor dect with golden ouche
Perhap the man with pitty prickt doth loue her for her care.
Unto his noble hart to pitty prisoners tis not rare.
The sister deare of Priamus (fayre Lady Hesyon) he
Did cause to Thelamon the Greeke in wedlocke knit to bee.
Account how many wyues before, and maydens did he loue,
And raung'd abroade to coole the rage that Uenus brand did moue
Fayre Auge mayde of Arcadye ententiue set to leade
Dianas daunce, by force of him did leese her mayden hed.
And yet no token could she shew nor pledge of any loue,
What shall I speake of any more, or doth it mee behoue,
To prate what prankes he playd with fifty daughters in one night,
And yet how soone of such a pange he ouercame the might,
He set much store by Omphale of Lidia land the Queene,
When like a guest on Timolus the mount he hath bene seene.
He was so prict with Cupids dart, and caught in Uenus trap,
That tuckt in womans weede he sat with distaf in his lap
And spoon the flaxe with fombling fyst, and rudely thumbde the threede
And flong from him the lyons case the price of noble deede.
With tresses tricke on plaited lockes he wayled as a mayde
With myrre his friseled poale was smeard, and curled bush was brayde,
Thus euery where as fancy flits, the fondling dotes in loue.
But in such sort as easely he can the same remoue.

DEI.
But they whom fickle fansies fles haue taynt, doe learne at last
In linke of loue by tract of time to fix affiaunce fast.

NV.
Trow yee that hee this captiue queane, and on whom hee doe see
The daughter of his deadly foe, will more esteeme then thee?

DE.
As gladsome groues at Prime of spring in beauties pride are seene
When fresshest warmth the naked twigges doth clad in pleasant greene,
But when coulde Boreas boysteous blast the pipling puffes doth stop
Of southwinde sweete, rough wynter powles the naked busshes top:
The barewoode with misshapen stumpes doth shew a withered Face,
Euen so my beauty marching forth a season on his Race
Still fades away, and euermore abates his glimsing glosse,
And what so euer was in mee, by care is come to losse.
And that which earst by fansy fed the greedy gazing eyes,
Is fallen away by bearing childe: so oft it droupes, and dyes.
And since I came to mothers state, I faded fast away.
And wrinckled age with furrowed face steps in with quick decay.
But yet this bondmaydes feauter fresh her sorrow better brookes.
Her comely countnaunce crazied is with leane and wanny lookes,
And yet for all her kark and care amid her deepe distresse,
Shee beares a glimse of beauty bryght, and fauour nothing lesse.
Her heauy hap, and frowning fate can nothing from her plucke,
Saue Scepter from her royall hande by all this lowring lucke.
By meanes of this first faynting feare did lodge within my breast,
That makes mee wake the weary nightes, and leese my kindely rest.
In all mens eyes at first I seemde to be a blessed Wyfe.
And Ladies all at our estate repining very ryfe
Did wyshe my match in spite of fate what Stepsier shall I hope
As match in maiesty to Ioue within the heauenly coape?
Deare foster dame whom shall I make my feere in spowsall bed?
Although Euryst that Hercules to all these toyles hath led,
Doe linke with mee in bridall bandes, my state shalbe impayrde.
Tis small worth to deserue to bee to kingly wedlock rayrde.

NV.
But Issue is the thing that doth in marriage kindell loue.

DE.
And Issue is the thing that doth in marriage mallice moue.

NV.
This while the bondmayde to thee for present shalbe braught

DE.
Loe hee ietteth vp and downe with pryncely port full haught,
And buckles fast about his Loynes the liuely Lyons case,
Who doth inuest the wretched with the right of kingly mace,
Deposing those from honoures type that late so lofty sat.
And pestereth his puissaunt pawes with huge vnweildy bat,
Of whose exploytes, and maarciall actes the Seres sing aloofe,
And all enclosde in Ocean sea thereof haue perfit proofe
Is now became an amorous knight: the honour of his name
Doth nothing touch his conscience, to tender once his fame.
Hee roueth through the worlde, as on that doth no whit esteeme,
Although that men as soone to Ioue shall him vnworthy deeme.
Nor like the man whose credit through the townes of Greece is greate.
Hee seekes to compasse his desier, to worke a Louers feate.
With single Dames is his delight: If any him deny,
Then to attayne his lawlesse lust by rigour doth hee try.
With men hee fareth frantickly, to others smart and blame
Hee wins his Wyues, his folly frayle is cloackt by vertues name.
The noble City Oechalie is made a razed towne.
The Sunne twixt morne and euen did set, in one day vp, and downe,
One day did see it stand in state, the same did see it fall.
These bloudy broyles, and wasting warres of Loue proceeded all,
As oft as parents vnto him deny theyr daughters deare,
So oft I warrant them they neede his wrathfull fury feare.
So oft a man with Hercules shalbe at deadly foode:
As hee denies his stepfather to bee by ioyning bloude.
If hee may not be sonne in law, then doth hee rage, and raue:
Why doe these guiltlesse handes of myne still keepe him from his graue,
Till hee dissemble franticke fits, to bend his ayming bowe,
And deaths wounde on my chylde, and me with bloudy hands bestowe?
Thus hawty Hercules was wont his wedlockes to deuorce.
Yet nought there is, that lawe of guilt on him might haue recorse.
Hee makes the worlde blame Iuno, for the ills hee hath commit.
O rigour, of my rage why dost thou quallify my fit?
Now must thou set thy hands on worke, too't while thy hands bee hot.

N.
Thy husband wilt thou slay?

D.
Him whō his Leman lewd hath got.

NV.
But yet, he is the sonne of Ioue.

DE.
And so Alcmenas sonne.

N.
With stroke of steele?

D.
With stroke of steele if it cannot bee donne,
Then for to bring his death to passe, ile set for him a snare.

NV.
What kinde of madnesse may it be that makes thee thus to fare?

D.
Such as my husband hath mee taught.

N.
Wilt thou thy spouse destroy,
On whom ye stepdames spite yet had no power to work annoy?

D.
The wrathes of heauenly mindes do make thē blest on whō they light
So doth not spite of mortall men.

N.
Oh silly wretched wight
For beare thy rage, and feare the worst, mans force may not assayle
Him, that agaynst the power of hell, and death coulde once preuayle.

DE.
Ile venter on the dint of swerd.

N.
Thy wrath (deare foster child)
Is greater then the crime, that hath thy Hercules defilde.
With egall mallice measure faultes. Alas why dost thou bring
So great and sore, a penalty vpon so smale a thinge?
Let not thy griefe be greater, then the sorrow thou sustaynes.

DE.
Set you it light that with our wedlocke linkt an harlot raygnes?
Nay rather thinke it still to much, that doth thy sorrows breede.

NV.
And is the loue of Hercules reuolt from thee in deede?

DE.
T'is not reuolt, deare foster Dame, fast in my bones it stickes:
But yre boyles hoate in burning breaste, when loue to anger prickes.

NV.
It is almost a common guise, that wedded wyues doe haunte,
Theyr husbands hearts by magicke Arte, and witchcraft to enchaunte,
In winter coulde I charmed haue the woods, to make them sprout.
And forst the thunder dint recoyle, that hath bin boulting out.
With waltring surges I haue shooke the seas amid the calme.
I smoothed haue the wrastling waues, and layde downe euery walme.
The dry groūd gaped hath like gulphs, & out new springs haue gusht
The roring rocks haue quaking sturd, & none thereat hath pusht.
Hell gloummy gales I haue brast oope, where grisly ghosts all husht
Haue stood & aunswering at my charme the goblins grim haue scoulde.
The threefolde headded hounde of hell wt barking throates hath houlde.
Thus both the seas, the lande, the heauens, & hell bowe at my becke.
Noone day to midnight, to and froe turnes at my charming checke.
At my enchauntment euery thing declynes from natures lawe.
Our charme shall make his stomacke stoupe, & bring him more in awe.

D.
What hearbes doe grow in Pontus sea? Or els on Pindus hill?
To trownce this machelesse champion, where shall I finde the ill?
The magicke vearse enchaunts the Moone from Starry skies to groūd,
And fruictfull haruest is thereby in barren winter found.
The whisking flames of lightning leames oft sorcery doth slay.
And noonetyde topsy turuy tost doth dim the dusky day.
And leaue the welkin to the starres, and yet not cause him stoupe.

N.
The Gods them selues by charme of loue haue forced bin to droupe.

DE.
Perhap hee shall be woon by one, and yeelde to her the spoyle.
So loue shall be to Hercules the last and latest toyle.
By all the hoste of heauenly powers, and as thou seest mee feare,
The secrets that I shall attempt, in councell see thou beare:

NV.
What may it be, that thou woulde haue me keepe so secretly?

DE.
No broyle of blades, no priuy cote, no fiery force perdye:

NV.
I you assure I can conceale, if mischiefe none be ment.
For then the keeping close of it is sure a lewde entent.

DE.
Then looke about, if none be heere, our councell to betray:
Looke rounde about, on all sides cast thy countnaunce euery way.

NV.
(Beholde the place is safe inough from any listning eare.)

DE.
Beside the place of our estate there is a secret nooke,
A couert corner for our talke, that sonneshyne neuer tooke.
Neyther at morne, nor euening tyde, when Titans blaze doth quench.
And hee in ruddy westerne waue his firy wheeles doth drench.
There secret lyes the priuy proofe of Hercules amorous thought,
Ile tell thee all deare foster dame: This witchcraft Nessus taught,
Whom Ixion engendred of a mysty groning clowde,
Where Pindus hauty hill his top among the starres doth shrowde,
And other slips doth heaue his Crest aboue the ryding rack
When Achelous ouer layde, with many a thumping thwack
Of Hercles club, did shift him selfe to euery kinde of shape,
And triall made of all his sleights none serued to escape,
At length he turnde him selfe into the lykenesse of a Bull.
And so was fowly vanquished in forme of horny scull.
(While Hercules being Conquerour did me his Wyfe enioy.
Returning home to Greece agayne, it hapned Euen lake
To ouerflow the drowned marshe and channell to forsake,
And strongly streamde to seas hee runns, and swells aboue his bankes.
And Nessus vsde to passe the poole, and search the croking crankes
As Ferryman demaundes his fare, and bare mee on his backe,
And wading forward brake the Waues, and surges of the lake.
At length yet Nessus waded out vnto the farther shore,
Yet Hercules had swam but halfe the riuer and no more:
And plyde it hard to cut the streame: but when espied had hee,
That Hercules was farre behinde, Madam (quoth hee) to mee.
(Be thou my booty, and my wyfe, and clasping mee about)
Away he flings, and Hercules besturres him mauger Waue:
Though Ganges gulph and Ister streame (quoth he) thou traytour slaue
Might roon in on, yet shift to scape them both, well coulde I make,
And in thy hast a shaft shall soone thy running ouer take:
And ere he spake the word, his arrow flew out of his bowe,
And wrought a wounde in Nessus ribbs, hee coulde no farther goe.
It sped him sure, to looke for death. Hee cried, well away.
The baggage running from the wounde reserued as hee lay,
And putting it into his hoofe the which vndoyng, hee
In cutting yt with his owne hand, did geue it vnto me.
And thus at latter gaspe he sayde, the witches haue me toulde,
That loue may charmed be by this, to haue and keepe his hould.
The conning witch dame Michale did teach Thessalia dames,
Who onely forst the Mone to stoupe to her from heauenly frames.
Therfore (quoth he) at any tyme when hateful whores abuse
Thy spousall bed, or waueryng man do haunt to any slewes
Then with this salue annoynt his shyrtes, and let it see no sonne,
But kepe it close in corners darke, the bloud then shall not shonne
His strength: and thus ful sodenly he left his talke with rest:
And deadly sleepe with senceles death his feeble lims opprest.
Thou Dame to whom in hope of trust my secrets all bewray,
On, that the poyson soakt into the vesture bright, it may
Preace through his limmes, vnto his hart, & sinke through euery bone,

N.
I wil dispatch it all in hast, make thou thy earnest mone
Unto the God, whose tender hand his stedfast dartes doth weild.

D.
I thee beseech that art of earth and heauen in honour helde.
And thou that shakest burning boltes, thou curst and cruel boy,
Whose eluish weapons make thy mother feare thy sharpe annoy.
Now arme thy hand with speedy shaft not of the slender sort,
But biggest boultes, with which as yet thou hast assault no fort,
We neede no litle shaft that may styrre Hercules to loue
Bring cruel handes and force thy bow his depest draught to prooue
Now, now draw forth thy shaft wherwith thou caused cruelly
The burning breast of Ioue by fyttes of feruent loue to frye.
When as the God his thonderbolt and lightning layd assyde,
Gan boalne with bumpes on forehead big: and through the waue he hid,
And swam with Europ on his backe in shape of horny Bull,
Now powre downe loue, and therwithall let Hecles hart be full.
If Ioles beauty kyndle heate and Hercles hart doth moue,
Quench thou these coales, and force him glow with vs in lawfull loue.
Ful oft the thunder thumping Ioue hath stouped to thy yoke:
And him that weildes the moary mace of blacke Auerne to smoake.
Thy flames enforce, and eake the Lord of glummy Stigian lake:
But onely match thou Hercules, and of him triumphe take
O Ioue, whose wrath more wrackful is then yreful Iunoes might.
The charme is made in perfecte force is al our medcine right,
Wherein the shirt shal steeped bee that wearyed many wighte.
Whose handes on Pallas distaffe spoone the weary Web with payne.
And it for Hercules auayle shall drincke vp all the bane.
And with my charme Ile strengthen it. But loe yee in the nick
Defie Lycas commeth heere at hand who will dispatche it quick:
But tell him not what force it hath least hee the guilt betray.

DEI.
Alas that fayth to kinges dwells not in howses of estate:
Haue Lycas heere this shirt, the which my handes haue spun of late,
Whyle Hercules at randon roues, and ouershot with wyne
Doth rudely dandle on his lap the Lidiane Lady fyne.
Now doates hee after Iole: but this his boyling rage
That burneth in his breast I will with curtesy asswage,
For curtesy conquers canckred churles. See thou my spouse desire,
Hee spare the Shirt, vntill hee set the Franckinsence on fire,
And offer vp his sacrifice, and weare his Garlond gray
Of Popler boughes on wreathed lackes. And I will goe my way
To'th royall Gods, and will beseeke the cruell Cupids dame.
Yee ladies and companions that with mee heather came,
Now force the fountaynes of your teares from watred eyes to roon,
To wayle our Countrey Calydon on euery side vndoon.

Chorus.

O DEIANIRE deare daughter of our King
OENEVS late, to see thy frowning fates
Woe after woe thus downe on thee to fling,
It irks our heartes, that were thy foster mates.
O woefull wight it pitieth vs to see,
Thy wedlock in this tickle state to bee.
Wee Lady, wee, that with thee wonted were
With flapping oare on Acheloe to rowe,
When hauing past the spryng tyme of the yere,
With Channell smoth hee newely wexeth lowe,
And makes agayne his swelling surges calme,
And boobling runnes at Ebbe withouten walme.
Through weale and woe wee still with thee remayne,
And now what griefe so euer thou feare in mynde,
Account thou vs as partners of thy payne,
For commonly when Fortune turnes the wynde,
And makes thee beare thy beaten Sayle but low,
Then friendship ebbes, where it before did flow.
And who so guydes the sway of golden mace,
Though people thicke doe haunte his stately courte,
And in at hundred gates doe preace a pace,
Yea though that thou mayntaine so great a porte,
To garde thee with this garrison, yet shall
Thou scarcely finde one faithfull hearte of all.
In paynted porche, and gates of guilded bowers
The lurcking hagge Eryn her tuskes doth whet:
And sturring strife with quarreling face shee lowers.
The portly doar es no sooner oape are set,
But treason black, pale enuy, deepe deceight,
With priuy knyfe of murther step in streight.
And when the Prynce appeares in open place,
To shew him selfe before his subiects sight,
Swelling despight attendeth on his grace:
As oft as dawning day remoues the nyght,
And euery time the sunne at West goes downe,
They looke another man should clayme the Crowne.
Fewe heartes loue kinges, not few their kingly might:
The glorious shew of courtly countenaunce
Bewitcheth many: where one sets his delight
How next the king hee may him selfe aduaunce,
That through high streetes hee may as lorde of rule
With lofty lookes, ryde mounted on his Mule.
Ambitious heate enflames his hawty breast.
Another would his greedy hunger staunch
With gubbes of goulde, (and though hee it possest)
Rich Arabie serues not his pyning paunch,
Nor western India (a worlde for to behoulde)
Where Tagus flowes with streames of glittring goulde.
The couetous charle, the greedy gnoffe in deede,
In whom from cradell nature so it plantes,
No hourded heapes his endlesse hunger feede,
In plenty pines the wreatch, in wealth hee wantes.
Some other fondlings fansy thus doth guyde,
To fawne on kings, and still in courte to byde.
As one disdayning lyke a Country mome
And crooked clowne, the plowe to follow still:
Although the dingthryfte dayly keepe at home
A thousand drudges, that his lande doe Tyll:
Yet wantes his will and wissheth wealth therefore,
Onely to waste on other men the more.
Another claweth and flattreth fast the King,
By clymbing vp to treade downe euery wyght:
And some at least to blockam Feaste to bryng
And thus hee striues to arme him selfe with myght
In bloude: but of their ship doth Fortune fayle,
When safe they thinke to floate with highest sayle,
Whom Moone at morne on top of Fortunes wheele
High swayed hath seene, at fulnesse of renowne,
The glading sunne hath seene his Scepter reele,
And him from high fall topsey turuey downe.
At morne full merry, blith, in happy plight,
But whelmde in woes and brought to bale ere nyght.
These sildome meete hoare hayres and happy dayes:
The Lord that lyes on stately crimsen bed
Sleepes more in feare, then snoring drudge, that layes
Vpon the countrey clod his drowsy head.
In goulden roofes, and hauty courtes they keepe,
Whose dreadfull dreames doe make them starte in sleepe.
The purple roabes lyeth waking many a night,
And slombers not, when homely ragges doe rest.
O if as at a Grate espy wee might
The sorrowes, shrined in a Prynces breast.
What pangues, what stormes, what terrour, O what hell
In sighing heartes or prowde estates doth dwell?
The Iryshe Seas doe nener roare so ruffe,
When wrastling waues, and swelling surges ryse,
That hoysted are with sturdy northern puffe,
As fearefull Fansyes doe theyr myndes aggryse.
But hee sighes not, nor combred is with care,
Whom Fortune hath bequeath'de a slender share.
In woodden dishe and blacke beche Bole hee swills,
And heaues it not to mouth with quaking hand.
With homely fare his hungry Mawe hee fills,
And leares not backe for feare of those that stand
With naked swerdes: but Kings in goulden cup
Wyne blent with bloude (most dreadfull draughts) do sup.
In dainty dishe the poyson bayte is layde,
And treason lurkes amid the sugred wyne
At euery bit they quake, and are a frayde,
The swerde will fall, that hanges but by a twyne,
And euer as hee liftes his head, and drynkes,
The rebelles Knyfe is at his throate hee thinkes.
Such flattring ioyes these happy worldlinges haue.
Their outwarde pomp pretendeth lusty liues.
When inwardely they drowpe, as doth the slaue
That pines in pangues fast clogde in goulden giues.
Striue not in hast, to climbe the whirling wheele,
For hasty climers oft in haste doe reele.
Meane dames defy both peareles and glittring spanges,
And goulden chaynes with rubies ryche beset,
Nor at theyr eares doe massy Iewelles hange
With turky stones: nor pranked prowde they iet
In murrey gownes: nor doth the wooll they weare
Of Crymsen dye the costly colour beare
Neyther in Tissew, nor silken garments wrought
With needle, nor embroadred Roabes they goe:
And yet this state is free from Iealous thought,
Theyr wedding is not vnto them theyr woe.
When thousand stormes in Ladyes hearts doe dwell
By wedlocke breach, that breedes their noysom hell.
VVho so he is that shunnes the middle waye,
Shall neuer fynd fast footing any where.
The wilful lad that needes would haue a day,
And wayghty charge of Fathers charyot beare:
VVhile he from wonted wayes his Iades doth iaunce,
Amonge straunge starres they pricking forward praunce,
Enforcing them with Phœbus flames to frye,
Whose roaming wheeles refuse the beaten rutt:
Thus both himselfe, and all the Cristall skye
In peril of the soulthring fyre he put.
So hawty myndes that clymbe aboue their skill,
Do worke their owne decay, and others yll.
While Dædalus in flying through the ayre
Did keepe the midst betweene the skie and grounde
He could in safe to Italy repayre,
And gaue no gulph his name by beyng dround.
But Icarus presumes to mount on hie,
And stryues aboue the fethered foules to flye.
And scornes the guyding of his fathers trayne.
And in his flight wil coape to lofty sonne:
Which molt his winges so downe he droppes agayne
Into the seas, whereby his name they woone
Thus proud attemptes of hauty clyming hier
Receiue shrewde falles to quit their fond desyre.
Let other mount aloft let other sore,
As happy men in great estate to sitte.
By flattring name of Lord I set no store:
For vnder shore my little keele shall flitt:
And from rough wyndes my sayles fayne would I kepe,
Least I be driuen into the daungerous deepe.
Prowde Fortunes rage doth neuer stoupe so low
As litle roades, but them shee ouerflyes
And seekes amid mayne seas her force to shew
On argosies, whose toppes, do reach the skyes
But lo, here comes our Lady Deianire,
Straught of her wits, and ful of furious yre.

THE THIRD ACTE

Deianira, Chorus.
Ch.
Oh wretch, O carefull wight,
What mischiefe may it be wherwith thou art so sore affright.

Dei.
The shirt with Nessus bane imbrewde no soner hence was sent,
And wretched woman that I am toth closet strayght Iwent.
(My mynd mistrusts I knowe not what, and treason doth surmyse)
And Nessus by the heate bewrayed, that faynted was the bloud:
The God foreshewed that here the force of all the treason stoode:
For by good hap the fomy glede no foggy clowde doth dim
But with ful power of burning beames he shyned blasing brim.
Scant yet I can for feeble feare vnlocke my fastned iawes,
The scorching heate doth deye away, and vp by force it drawes
The soaked bloud that beyng layed amid the frying flame
And boyling heate of shyning sonne did shrinke before the same:
Wherein the shyrt was steepe, and all the royall robe imbrewde:
I cannot shew the villany wherwith it was indewde:
For as the Easterne wynd doth force the winter snow to melt,
Or lukewarme South when in the spring frō Mimas mount they swelt
As Lucas els that fronters on Ionian sea, a land
Doth breake the waue the beaten surge lies foaming on the strand
Or by the warmth of heauenly heat the frankinsence doth drop
So all the venim wastes away, and melteth euery croppe.
And while I wonder stil hereon the wonder shrynkes away
But with a froath it spottes the ground, and there the poyson lay,
It rotts the cloth: my woman boalne and sweld doth follow me,
And shakes her head, my sonne as one astonished I see:
And hying hether all in hast declare what newes ye bring.

Hillus, Deianira, Nutrix.
Dei.
A mischiefe great I know not what within my breast doth boyle:

Hil.
Unto the royall temples of dame Iunoes tryumph hie
These will allow the sanctuary though other it denye

Dei.
What heauy hap is it that may annoy my guiltlesse ghost

Hyl.
Oh mother, O that diamond of the world that piller post
Whom fate as Ioues lieuetenaunt heare haue placed for the nones
Is dead: and Nessus burning bane deuouers Hercles boanes
The daunter of the brutish beastes he conquering knight before
Is conquerd now: he mournes, he wailes, what aske ye any more

Dei.
We wretches loue the order of our wretchednes to heare,
Tell me the state now of our stocke what countnance doth it beare:
O stock, O sylly wretched stocke now shal I be esteemd,
A widdow now, a cast of now, and now a beggar deemd.

Hil.
Thou dost not languish all alone for Hercules yis dead:
For whom the eyes of all the world haue cause their teares to shed.
Count not thy fate allotted thee alone: now all our kind
Do howle and mourne for him whom thou bewaylest in thy minde,
Thou suffrest greefe, the smart whereof belonges to euery land
Although the lower cast therof first happen to thy hande
Thou careful caytiffe dost not wayle for Hercules alone.

D.
Speake, speake, how nigh so Deathward was my deare Alcides gon?

Hi.
Death whom in his owne empyre hee had conquered before,
Did shrinke from him and fate durst not allow a deede so sore,
And Clotho she perhap put out her rocke with trembling arme
As one that hastning Hercles death, did feare to do such harme,
O day, O dismall day, and shall euen Hercules the greate
Passe thus to death, and silent shades and to a worser seate

De.
(Is he thinke you already dead or may I dye before)
Speake on, if yet he be not deade

Hi.
Eubœa that doth rise,
With hauty crest ringes euery where, and Caphar rocke likewyse
Deuydeth Hellespontus sea and turnes that side to south,
Wheras it bides the boysteous blastes of Boreas wyndy mouth:
Euripus bendes his wandring streame and windes in creakes about
His croked course seuentymes and doth as often breake it out:
While Phœbus drencht his werye teame amid the Westerne waue
(Here on a rocke aboue the reach of cloudes a temple braue)
Of Cænæi Ioue shew bright whyle all the beastes for sacrifice
At th'alter stoode, and through the woode the noyse began to rise,
Of al the herd: then of he put he matterd Lyons case,
And likewyse did discharge him of his houge and heauy mace
And easde his shoulder from the burthen of his quiuer light.
Then tuckt in your attyre he shone among the people bright
With ougly lockes, and on the alter made the fier flame
Receyue (quoth hee) these fruits (O syre) though fyer send the same
And not the haruest Sithe: but let with frankinsence good store
The fyer burne that far the riche Arabyan therfore
Doth gather out of Saba trees for Phœbus sacrifyce
The earth (quoth he) is now at peace, so be both sea and skies
All beastes be conquered, and I am victor come agayne.
Lay downe thy lightning leames (O Ioue) in feare thou nede not raign
In middest of his prayers thus wherat I was agast,
Hee fell to sighes and grieuous groanes, and al the skyes at last
With dreadful cryinge lowde he filles Euen as the braynsick bull.
When with the axe in wounde he scapes doth fil the temples full
Of roaring noyse.
Or as the thunder throwne from heauen doth rumble in the skyes,
Euen so the seas and starres of heauen doth Hercles shake with cryes
Both Calpe clyue, and Oyclas yle wel hard his yellyng haue,
Here Caphar rockes there al the woods therof an Echo gaue.
Wee saw him weepe, the people thought his former franticke fyttes
Had now agayne as earst they did bereaue him of his wittes
His seruaunts scatter then for feare, while he with flaming eyes,
Al staryng standes with steaming lookes among them all he pryes
For Lycas: him alone he doth pursew, who in his arme
With trembling hand the alter held and scaped al the harme,
By dying first for faynting feare, and while Alcydes helde
The quaking Carkas in his hand thou shalt (quoth he) be queld
And beaten with this fist of myne, O Gods eternall raygne,
Wretch Licas killeth Hercules, and hath his conqueroure slayne,
But lo another slaughter yet: for Hercules agayne
Killes Lycas: thus the sacrifyce of Gods with bloud they slayne,
With Lycas thus his labours end throwne vp to heauen they say,
That with his dropping bloud the cloudes he stayned all the way.
Euen as the pitched dart of Gete with pith doth score the skyes,
Or as the whirling sling of Creete doth make the peller ryse:
So swift he mounted vp to heauen, but downe his body dropte,
And as his Carkas fel, among the rockes his necke it chopt.
The graue prepared for their corps (quoth Hercules) be still,
I am no brainsicke franticke man, but loe this despret ill
More noysome is then rage or wrath, it caleth much my will
To wrecke my rage vppon my selfe, his mallady he scant
Bewryes: but fareth frantickly: and he himselfe doth rent
His limmes, and ryflyng them, with mighty hand a sunder teares,
And striues to strip him selfe of all th'apparell that he weares,
And onely this was it, of all the thinges that I do know,
That past the power of Hercules yet standes he pulling so
And plucketh of his limmes withall the vesture doth not linne
To bring of lumpes of filthy flesh the shyrt stickes to the skyne
But what should ayle the poysonranke none knoweth what, nor whye
And yet there is good cause therof: now grouelyng doth he lye
And beates his face agaynst the ground to water now he hyes,
But water cannot coole his heate, and now to shore he plyes.
And for his sucoure seekes in seas, at length his men him catch
We holding him (alas the whil'st were able him to match
Now in a keele amid the seas we launched were aloofe,
And Hercles payse was hosted with a litle southerne puffe
My Ghost then left my careful coarse and darknesse dimd my sight
Why stay I wreche? why doth this dreary deede make mee afright.
Her coapefellow dame Iuno doth reclayme, and Ioue his sonne,
The world must render him: then doe as much as may he donne,
And boare my body with a sworde such sower sauce is dew
To her, whose cursed caytiffe hand her loue so lightly slew.
O Ioue with fier and lightning flash destroy thy wretched Neece.
Let not thy mighty hand be armed with a slender peece.
Let brast the boult from skies wherewith thou wouldest Hydra burne.
If Hercles had not bin thy sonne thereof to serue the turne
Strike mee with vncouth pestilence, and with such weapon smite,
As may be farre more yrkesome plague then all my stepdames spite.
Driue forth those deadly dartes that earst young Phaëthon ouerthrew
When he full crancke in firy carte, about the heauens flew:
For thus by slaying Hercules, eake Nations slaine I haue
What neede thou Deianire of Gods a toole of death to craue.
Now trouble not thy stepsier Ioue, thinke scorne may Hercles wyfe
To wishe for death, for to her heart her hand shall set the knyfe
Dispatch then quickly with the blade, yet let thy blade alone,
For who with weapon endes their lyfe tis long ere they be gon
I wilbe headlong hurled from a rocke as hie as skies.
The Oeta hill this shalbe it, where first the sonne doth ryse,
Thence will I throwe my body downe, the edge of brasten rocke
Shal cleaue my corps, and euery crag shall geue a broosing knock.
My hand shall hang torne by the way the rugged mountayne side
Shall with the gushing bubbles of my dropping bloud be dyde
On death were vengeaunce small, though small yet may it be delayde.
What despret death I should attempt it makes my heart dismayde:
Alas, alas, that Hercles swerd within my chamber stucke
Then well were I if for to dye on that it were my lucke.
It is inough if one right hand doe bring vs both to graue.
Come neare, come neare yee Nations, now let all people haue
In redinesse, both stone and fier the same to throw at mee,
Now holde your hands, and take yee to your tooles for I am shee
That of your succour spoyled you now cruell Kaysars may
All vncontrolled tyrantlike, in kingdomes weilde the sway,
Now euery mischiefe may start vp, and not rebuked bee,
The alters now shall vp agayne that wonted were to see
A bloudy offring like him selfe in kinde that offer should.
Thus haue I made the guilty gap to let in bloudshed boulde
I render you to tyrants kings, bugges, beasts, and grysely diuells.
By taking him away that should reuenge you of these euilles.
O spouse thou of the thunderer and can you yet forbeare
Wilt thou not fling thy flames from heauen as did thy brother deare?
Dispatch me hence sent vp to Ioue, wilt thou not me destroye
The greatest prayse that thou might winne then shalt thou not enioy
Nor lusty tryumphe: I am she that beare the name to be
The daughter of the man that would in prowes caape with thee.

N.
Why wilt thou stayne thy stocke which hath vntaynted bene before,
This il procedes of ygnorance although it be ful sore:
Hee is not gylty that committes the gylte not with his will.

D.
Wel may hee erre of ignorance that fauoreth his ill
And spares himselfe: my selfe of death most worthy I do deeme.

N.
He doth condemne himselfe to dye that needes wil guylty seeme.

D.
Death can deceiue no one but such as innocentes may bee.

N.
Wilt thou forsake the gloryous sonne?

D.
The sonne forsaketh mee.

N.
Wretch wil thou cast away thy life.

D.
Yea though it be to death,
I follow wil my Hercules.

N.
He hath both life and breath

D.
When he perceaued him ouermatcht he hastned his decay.

N.
Wilt thou forgoe thy sonne, and eake preuent thy dying day?

D.
Her selfe hath liued long ynough who buryed hath her childe.

N.
And wilt thou follow on to death thy spouse.

D.
yea Ladies mild
Before their husbandes vse to dye.

N.
Thy selfe thou dost accuse
Of guylt if thou cōdemne thy selfe.

D.
No gylty one doth vse
To take reuengemente of themselues.

N.
But those are pardoned still
That do offend of ygnoraunce and not of peuish wil
Who wil condemne the deede hee doth?

D.
Ech man doth seeke to shun
His lot when spite of frowning fate against him seemes to runne.

N.
And he for whom thou languishest, with arrow slow his wyfe
Hight Megara, and did destroy his tender childrens life.
When as a braynsicke beast in hand he tost his knarrye mace,
That squeasde the snake in Lerna lake before his fathers face.
He played thryse the murtherer, himselfe yet he forgaue
And for the haynous gylt hee did when frenzy made him raue
He purgde himselfe in Cynips spring toward the Southerne poale
And in the water bath'd his hand againe to make him hoale.
Now whether wilt thou caytiffe wretch, why dost thou dam thy handes

D.
In condemnation of these the ghost of Hercles standes,
I meane to plague the treachery.

N.
Your Hercules wel I know,
Perhap he wil be heare agayne and mayster al his woe:
Then shall your slaked greefe vnto your Hercules geue place.

DE.
They say the serpents poyson doth deuower him apace
The poyson of his wicked Wyfe his lusty lims destroyes.

NV.
And think yee it to bee the serpents bane that him annoyes,
That hee cannot escape who bare the brunt of it aliue,
And how to pare of Hydraes heads he coulde full well contryue
When as the victour stoode with grinning teath amid the moode,
And all his body slauerde fowle with venomous spit and bloude,
And shall the Centaur Nessus goare agaynst the man preuayle
That made the pithy strength it selfe of Nessus for to quayle.

DE.
In vayne yee rescue her that is of purpose set to dye
Therefore I haue determinde with my selfe this lyfe to flye
And long inough hee lyued hath that may with Hercles dye.

NV.
I doe beseech thee humbly for this gray and hoary head,
And for these pappes that as thy Mother haue thee nourished,
Remoue the feruent fits that rage within thy boyling breast,
And suffer not these despret thoughtes of death in thee to rest.

DE.
Who woulde perswade a wretch to liue. He hath a cruell heart?
And though that death be vnto me a great and grieuous smart:
Yet vnto other some it is an easing of their payne.

NV.
O wreatch excuse thy handy worke, and say at last agayne,
T'is ignoraunce that did the deede and not the willfull Wyfe.

DE.
It will be quit whereas th'infernall fiendes shall flint the stryfe
And quit my guilty ghost: my conscience doth my hands condem.
But Pluto Prince of glummy goulph shall purge from slaughter them:
Before thy bankes I will appeare forgetfull Lethes Lake,
And being then a dolefull ghost my husband will I take.
But thou that wields the scepter blacke of darke infernall skies
Apply thy toyle: the haynous guilt that none durst enterpryse,
This ignoraunce hath ouercom, Dame Iuno neuer dare
To take away our Hercules, Thy plunging plagues prepare,
Let Sisiphs stone on my neck force my stouping shoulders shrynke,
And let the fleeting licour from my gaping gums to synke.
Yea let it mock my thyrsty throate when as I meane to drynke,
And thou that rackes Ixion King of Thessayle O thou Wheele,
My haynous handes deserued haue thy swinging sway to feele,
And let the greedy gripe scratch out these guts on eyther side,
If Danaus pitchers cease: by mee the rome shalbe supplide.
Set open hell, take mee Medea as partner of thy guilt.
This hand of myne, then both of thyne more cruell bloud hath spilt
More then thou did as in respect of mother to thy chylde.
Or loking to thy brothers ghost whose gore hath thee defylde,
Haue with the Lady thou of Thrace for such a cruel wyfe,
And the Althe that burnt the brand of Meleagers life.
Receyue thy daughter now, denye me not thy babe to bee:
Why such a one should quayle by you, some reason let vs see:
Ye honest matrons that enioy the groues of holy wood
Agaynst me shut the heauens, or such whose handes wt husbandes blood
Haue bene imbrewde, if any of the fifty sisters dyre
Defying honest duty all that wedlocke did require:
But desprat dames with goary blades stood armde: in me let them
See and allow theyr bloudy handes that other will condem.
I wil go get my selfe among the troupe of cruel wyues
But they wil shunne such gylty handes as shred their husbandes liues.
O valiant spouse, a guiltlesse ghost, but gylty handes I haue
Ah silly woman, woe is me, that giuen light credite haue
O traytor Nessus while I ment by Centaures subtil charme
To draw from Iole Hercles loue my selfe sustayne the harme.
Hence Phœbus, hence, and thou O flickring life of her that lackes
Her Hercules and giuest day to wretches in their wrackes.
This is a dismal day: to thee Small penaunce yeld I will
And life with all: my woeful fate shal I continue stil
Deferryng death, O spouse that of thy hand I may be slayne,
And doth their any sparke of life yet in thy breast remayne?
Or can thy hand yet draw the bow Sarmacian shaft to cast,
Do weapons cease, and haue thy feble handes giuen vp at last
Thy bow? but if thy hardy wyfe to thee a toole may reache
I long to perysh of thy hand, myne hower yet wil I stretche
Like gyltlesse Licas mangle me disperse in other townes
My corpes, and hurle me to a worlde beyond the trauayles bownes.
Trounce mee like monster Arcadie or ought that did rebell,
And yet thou shalt do nought but that becommes an husband wel.

Hi.
I pray you mother spare your selfe, forgeue your fatal lot,
If ye offend of ygnoraunce, then blame deserue yee not

De.
If thou regard true honesty, thy wretched mother slay.
Why trembleth thus thy feareful hand, why lokest thow away?
Such sinne shalbe a sacrifyce why dastard dost thou feare?
I spoylde thy father Hercules, this hand, this hand aleare
Hath murdred him whereby I haue done thee a more despyte,
Then ioy I did, in that my wombe did bring thee first to light.
If yet thou know not how to kill, then practise fyrst on mee.
If as thou like within my throate thy blade shal sheathed bee
Or if to paunch thy mother soone thou meane to take in hand
To yeeld her dreadlesse ghost to thee thy mother still shall stande,
It shall not wholly be thy deede, by thee it shall be done,
And caused by my wil to be. Art thou Alcides soon
And all affrayd? so shal thou neuer great exployts atchieue
Nor passe the worlde such feats of armes and sleightes for to contriue.
If any monster should be bred thy fathers courage shew,
And to it with vnefeareful arme, loe ouerchargde with woe
My breast lies bare vnto thy hand. Stryke, I thy gylt forgeue
The fiendes infernall for their sinne thy soule shal neuer greeue.
What yerking noyse is this we heare what hagge here haue we fownde
That beares aboute her writhen lockes these vgly adders wound,
And one her yrksome temples twayne her blackysh finnes do wagge.
Why chase ye mee with burning brandes Megera filthy hagge
Alcides can but vengeance aske, and that I wil him get
But haue the iudges dyre of hell for yt in counsell set
But of the dreadful dongeon dores I see thunfoulding leaues
What auncient sier is he that on his tatred shoulder heaues
Th'unweildy stone that borne toth top agayne doth downward reele
Or what is he that spraules his lims vppon the whirling wheele
Lo heare stood ougly Tisiphon with sterne and ghastly face,
And did demaunde with steaming eies the manner of the case.
O spare thy strypes Megera spare, and with thy brandes away,
Th'offence I did was ment in loue, but whether do I sway
The groūd doth sinke, the roofe doth cracke, whether went this raging route,
Now al the world with gasing eyes stand staring me about
On euery side the people grudge and call for their defence.
Be good to me O nations whither, shall I get mee hence?
Death onely is my loade of rest there may my sorrowes byde
I do protest the fiery wheeles that Phœbus charyot guide.
That heare I dye and leave the worlde, thers Hercles yet behynde.

Hi.
Away she runnes agast: aye me, shee hath fulfylde her mynd,
For purposed she was to dye and now remaynes my wil
For to preuent her that by force her selfe she shall not kill
O miserable piety, if I my mother saue.
I sin agaynst my father then, but it vnto the graue
I let her goe, then toward her a trespas soule there lyes.
And thus (alas) on eyther syde great mischiefe doth aries,
And needes her purpose must be stayde Ile hie and take in hand
To stop her despret enterpryse and mischiefy to withstand.

Chorus.

Fvll true the dytty is
That holy ORPHEVS sang,
On Thracian harpe with sounde whereof
the Rocks of Rodop rang,
That nothing is creat
For euer to endure.
Dame Natures byrdes each on must stoupe
when death throwes out the lure.
The head wyth Crispen lockes,
or goulden hayres full:
In time hath borne an hoary bush,
or bin a naked scull.
And that which tract of time
doth bring out of the grayne,
Olde SATVRNE sharps his Syth at length
to reape it downe agayne.
Though PHOEBVS ryse at morne,
with glistring rayes full proude,
Hee runnes his race, and ducketh downe
at length in foggy Clowde.
Toth Gætans ORPHEVS sang
such kinde of melody.
And how the gods themselues were bounde
to lawes of destiny.
The God that doth the yeare.
By egall partes dispose,
Howe fatall webbe in euery clyme
are dayly spunne he showes.
For all thinges made of moulde
The grounde agayne will gape,
As Hercles preacheth playne by proofe
that nothing can escape.
For shortly shall ensue
Discarge of Natures Lawe
And out of hande the gloming daye
of doome shall onwarde drawe
Then all that lies within
The scorching Libicke clyme,
The poale antarticke of the South.
shall ouerwhelme in tyme.
Poale articke of the North
Shall iumble, all that lyes
VVithin the Axeltree, whereon,
drye BORES blasinge flyes
The shiuerynge Sunne in Heauen
Shall leese his fadyng lighte
The Pallace of the frames of Heauens
shall runne to ruin quight.
And all these blockish Gods
Some kynd of Death shall quell,
And in confused CHAOS blynde
they shall for euer dwell,
And after ruin made
Of Goblin, Hegge, and Elfe,
Death shall bringe finall destenye,
at last vppon it selfe.
VVhere shall be then bestowde
The world so huge a masse,
The beaten hye way vnto hell
is like away to passe,
To leade vnto the Heauens
That shall be layed flatt:
The space betwene the Heauen and earth,
inough thinke ye is that?
Or is it not to much
For worldly miseryes:
VVher may such heaps of sinnes be lodgd
what place aboue the skyes?
Remaynes, but that the sea
VVith Heauen and lowest Hell,
Three Kingdomes cast in one are like
within one roofe to dwell.
But hark what roaring crye,
Thus beates my fearefull eare
But lo its Hercules that yelles
tis Hercules I heare.

THE FOVRTH ACTE

Hercules, Chorus.
Ch.
O sonne of thunder thumping Ioue no shadowes do thee fray,
Now Ossa mount of Thessalie shal Pelion hill downe crush
And Athos pilde on Pindus toppe his bushy hed shall push
Among the starry skes therby aboue the craggy rockes.
Typhoëus vp shal clyme, and thumpe with store of battryng knockes
Iuarmen stone in Tyrren sea from thence eake shall be beat
The smoaky forge of Ætna mount, that glowes with stewing heate
Enceladus not ouerthrowne yet with the thundercracke
Shal hew the mountayne syde in twayne, and trusse it on his backe
The signes of heauen shal follow thee and goe with thee to wracke

Her.
I that returnde from dennes of death, and Stigian streame defyed
And ferryed ouer Lethes lake, and dragd vp, chaind, and tyde
The tryple headded mastiffe hownd, when Tytans teeme did start
So at the ougly sight that he fel almost from his cart.
Euen I whose pith the kingdomes three of Gods ful wel haue knowne
Lo yet myne end I daunted am by death and ouerthrowne
But yet no bloudy blade agaynst my riued rybbes doth crash
It is no rock that vnto death my brused bones doth pash
Nor as it were with Osir hill that clouen were in twayne,
Nor with the sway of all the mountayne falling am I slayne.
The glaring eyed giant grym doth not now squeaze my coarse
With paise of Pindus roch and thus not feling enmyes force
I conquerd am and yet alas this coarsie frets me more
O feeble force of man: he whom no might could match before
Withouten any conquest made doth end his latter day,
Without exployt or feat of armes my selfe I passe away.
O mighty vmpier of the world and all ye Ghostes aboue
That witnes how in quarell good my right hand euer stroue
O all ye landes, O earth alas, may it your mercy please
To spoyle the spiteful sting of death that dauntes your Hercules
Fy, fye, what shame is it to vs what filthy fate we haue?
A woman prowde shall boast her bane brought Hercles to his graue
Then what are they whose mortall mayme Alcides weapon gaue
If thus with sway inuincible my fatal wheele do run
And neede must on this shameful rocke my fatall twist be spunne:
As by a womans cursed hand my bloud should thus be shed
Yet Iunoes mallice migh haue powrd this vengeance on my head,
So might a womans deadly hand haue brought me to my beere:
But yet a woman weilding sway amid the welkin cleare
But this seemde ouerprowde attempt for Gods to take in hand
The paples dame in Scithia borne where pight on hie doth stand
The Apeltree whereon the vnderpropped poales do sway.
It might as wel haue bene her hap to take my breath away,
What womans might may maister me Queene Iunoes hatefull foe
Fye stepdame fye the fowler shame by this to thee doth grow.
Why dost thou triumph in this day? why did dame Tellus breede
Such parlous bugges thy humour ranck of colour hoate to feede?
A mortall womans peauishe spight doth passe thy rancour rough,
Thou sayst thou cannot haue reuenge on Hercules inough
Then are wee twayne yt passe thy power the Gods may blushe for shame
To see their mallice ouermacht by such a mortall dame.
Would God the ramping Lyons pawe that noyed Neme woode,
Had fillde his greedy mounching Iawes with plenty of my bloude:
Or while the twining snakes had hembde mee in by hundreds thick,
Why might not Hydra swallow vp my wrinched body quick?
Why was it not the centaures hap my silly flesh to gnawe?
Or that I bounde on Tantalls rocke shoulde gape with greedy Iawe?
In vayne to catch the fleeting foode when deepe from Tartar soyle,
Where at the Gods aggrized were, I did purloyne the spoyle.
And from the darck infernall Styx I gat agayne to light,
Of Ditis dungeon all the stops and slayes I conquerde quight.
Death shranke from mee in euery place that I a noble knight
At length might ende my dayes in shame, and in dishonour spoylde
Oh Ioue the creatures terrible thou knowst that I haue foylde
The threefoldeshapen mastiffe curre whom vp I draggde in chayne,
Hee starring from the sunnewarde coulde not hale mee back agayne.
The sheepherdes churlishe rabble that aloofe in Iber bee
Under the Spanishe feruent clyme coulde neuer maister mee.
Nor serpents twayne that vnto mee in tender cradell creapt.
Aye woe is mee that valiant death so oft I ouerleapt:
What honour shall I dye withall?

CH.
Beholde how death and hell
Cannot appaule the verteous mynde that of deseruing well.
By guiltlesse conscience warrant hath the death that doth him spoyle,
Irkes not as thus of such an one to take this filthy foyle.
If with this torment life were lost, his mynde should much be easde,
As with vnweildy Gyauntes sway hee had his body squeasde.
Or Titans burden with his monsters all he woulde abyde.
Or wishe of raging Gyants rent in pieces to haue dyde,
And if thy dolefull death because that monster none is left.
Who may be worthy thought by whom Alcides life bee reft?
But thine owne hand to doe the deede.

HE.
Aye me and wellaway,
What Scorpion scrapes within my Mawe? what cralling Crab I say
With crooking cleaze to comber mee, from scorching zone returnes,
And hoat within my boyling bones the seathing Marowe burnes.
My Riuer whilom ranke of bloude my rotting Lunges it tawes,
And teareth them in shattered gubs, and filthy withered flawes.
And now my Gall is dryed vp my burning Lyuer glowes.
The stewing heate hath stilde away the bloude, and Ioue hee knowes
My vpper skin is scorcht away and thus the Cankar stronge
Doth eate an hole that get it may my wretched Limmes amonge,
And from my frying Ribs (alas) my Lyuer quite is rent.
It gnawes my flesh, deuowers all, my Carkas quite is spent,
It soakes into the empty bones, and out the iuyce it suckes
The bones by lumps drop of while it the ioyntes a sunder pluckes
My corpulent Carkas is consumde of Hercules euery lim
Yet stauncheth not the festring rot that feedeth fast on him
O what a tingling ache it is that makes mee thus to smart,
O bitter plague, O pestilence that gripeth to the heart.
Loe Cittes, loe what now remaynes of Hercules the great.
Are these the armes that did with stripes the roaring Lyon beate?
And in Nemea wood did teare him from his hary case
Might this hand bend ye bow from cloudes the Stimphall foule to chase?
Are these the shankes that coapt the heart who shifting pace full oft?
Did beare his braunched head ypranckt with garlond gay aloft?
Was Calpe craggy cliue of these my feeble clowches broake?
To rayse a dam in feas that did their foamy channell choake.
Had these armes pith the breath of Kings, of Beastes, and bugs to stop?
Or might these shoulders tough the payse of heauen vnderprop?
Are these the lusty Lims and Neck that shrank not at the payse?
Are these the hands that I agaynst the weltring heauens did rayse?
Alas whose handes shall now perforce from hence hell Iaylour leade?
Alas the noble courage earst that now in mee is deade.
Why call I Ioue my Father great of whom my stock should ryse?
Why by the Thunderer make I my challenge to the skyes?
Now, now Ampitrio is my sier all men may it auouch.
Come out thou murreyn fowle that dost within my bowells couch.
Why dost thou thus with priuy wound my carefull Carkas foyle?
What gulph vnder the frozen Clyme in saluage Scithian soyle
Engendred thee? what water Hag did spawne thee on the shore?
Or stony Colpe Rock in Spayne that borders on the Moare:
O yrksome ill, and art thou not the Serpent that doth sting
With crest on ougly head, or els some other lothly thing,
Or spronge of Hydraës bloude, or left heere by the hellick hound.
Art thou no plague? and yet a plague in whom all plagues abound?
What gastly countnaunce cariest thou (alas) yet let me know?
What kinde of mischiefe may thou be that dost torment mee so?
What saluage sore, or murreyn straunge, or vncouth plague thou bee?
With open combat face to face thou should encounter mee.
And not thus ranckle in my flesh, nor soake into the sap,
By sowltring heate within my bones thy boyling bane to wrap,
And in the mid thereof to fry the Maroe that doth melt.
My iagged skin is ript, and out my smoaky Bowells swelt.
From bursten Paunch my selfe doe flea the skin with grasping pawse,
And from the naked boanes doe teare the mangled flesh by flawes,
I searched for thee through my Mawe, yet further dost thou creepe,
And festring farther in my flesh hast gnawne an hole more deepe.
O mischiefe match to Hercules, what griefe coulde make mee greete?
Whēce flow these streames of trillīg teares ye down my cheekes do fleete
The time hath bin no plunging pangues could cause our courage quaile,
That neuer vse with cristall teares our anguish to bewayle.
Ah, fy, I am ashamde that I should learne these teares to shed:
That Hercules in weeping wise his griefe hath languished:
Who euer saw at any day in any time or place?
All bitter brunts I bare with dry, and eake vnreky face
The manhoode that so many ills hath maistred heretofore,
Hath yeelded onely vnto thee, to thee thou Cankar sore,
Thou first of all hast straynde the teares out of my weeping eyes
Thy gargle face thy visage wan that doth mee sore aggrise.
More towgh then mossy Rockes, more hard then Gads of sturdy steeke,
Or roaming streame of Simplegade, whereby this smart I feele
Hath crusht my cracking Iawes, & wronge the streaming teares frō me.
O wielder of the Welkin swifte, loe, loe the Earth doth see
How Hercules doth weepe and wayle, and to my greater payne
My Stepdame Iuno sees the same, beholde, beholde agayne
My Lunges doe fry, the scorching heate preuayleth more, and more.
Whence fell this thunder Boult on mee that burnes in mee so sore?

C.
Who stoupeth not whē griefe doth gal? more tough thē Aem of Thrace
Whas whilom hawty Hercules, and did no more giue place
Then doth the marble axelltree, his Lims hee now doth yeelde
To paynefull pangues: and on his Neck his aking heade doth wielde,
And tossing still from side to side, hee bendes with hugy sway,
And oft his noble heart doth force his trilling teares to stay.

Hercules. Alcmena.
AL.
Where shall I wretched mother of Alcides wishe to bee?
Where is my chylde? where is my sonne? If sight deceaue not mee
With gasping mouth, and panting heart loe where hee sprawling lyes.
Where as (alas) in raging heate of bayling fits hee fryes,
Hee grones, all is dispacht, deare childe let mee Alcides myne
Embrace thy pining lims: with kisse enfoulde my armes in thyne
Where are the lims? where is the neck that bare the skies alone?
What thus hath mangled thee that all thy corps is waste and gone?

HE.
I am your Hercles mother deare, whom thus yee see here lost,
Acknowledge mee all though God knowes I seeme but as a ghost.
Why doe you turne your face away and mourning visage mylde.
Are yee ashamde that Hercules should counted bee your chylde?

AL.
What world hath bred this vncouth bug? what land engendred it?
Or els what monstrous mischiefe may on thee triumphing sit?
Who ist that conquers Hercules?

HE.
By treason of his Wyfe
Thou seest how wretched Hercules do leese his lothed Lyfe.

AL.
To ouerthrow my Hercules, what treason hath the might?

HE.
That which a wrathfull Dame doth seeke to ease her of her spight.

AL.
How hath this pestilence gotten to thy Lims and bleeding bones?

HE.
Into a Shyrt the woman had conuayde it for the nonce.

AL.
Where is the Shyrt for nothing but thy naked corps I see?

HE.
The vesture by the poyson ranke deuowred is with mee,

AL.
And can such poyson be contriued?

HE.
I thinke within my guts,
That hideous Hydra hissing Snake his slowghy body puts,
A thousand plagues or Lerna Poole within my Bowelles rampes:
What raging treate is this that driues vp all Sicilia dampes?
What Clime of Hell forbids the day to passe the boyling zone?
O Mates amid the greedy gulphes and pooles let me be throwne.
What Ister can my Carkas coole? no not the Ocean mayne
Of these my stewing vapours may the raging quench agayne?
(Al moysture of my limmes in these my fits are fryde away)
The iuyce wil sone be soaked vp, what president of hel
Let me returne from vnder grounde agayne with Ioue to dwell
He ought to haue retaynd me still, receiue me once agayne
Into thy dungeon darke that hel may in this pickle playne
Behold the man that conquerd yt, no booty bringe I will
Away with me: why dost thou quake for feare of Hercles still.
Set on me death coragiously for now I may be kilde

A.
Now stint thy tender tears that down thy cheekes so long haue trild,
And mayster this thy mallady compell thy sorrowes stoupe.
And shew that in these plunging panges Alcides did not droupe,
And as it hath bene earst thy guyse force death and hel to shrinke.

Her.
If ougly grested Caucasus. In chayne of yrone linke
Should bynd me as agroning pray the greedy grype to feede
Yet from myne eyes it should not strayne a brokē teare indeede
If wandring Symplegads would me with eyther rocke assaile,
To byde the brunt of double wracke my courage would not quayle.
Let Pindus tumbled be on me, houge Aemus let me haue
Or Athos rocke in Thracian seas that breakes the weltring waue,
And bode the boultes of thondring Ioue although thunweildy masse
Of all the world should fal on mee and might be brought to passe
That Phœbus flaming apeltree should burne vppon my graue
No vncouth crye should force the mynd of Hercles thus to raue.
Let meete a thousand sauage beastes and rent me al at once
Let Stymphal soules with houling hoarse lay strokes vppon my bones
Or scrowling bul on thother syde strike on with head and horne
Or els of other serpentes wilde let al my partes be torne
With roring earthquakes, hougy lumpes be puffed vppon me
With griping greefe let all my limmes to nothing pyned bee
Although I be to pouder crusht I wil with pacience peace
In spite of beastes or brusing blowes my sighes and teares shal seace

Alc.
It is not sonne the womans bane that in thy bones doth boile
But festring teares and broosing knockes of thy continual toyle
The wrinches old with aking panges begin to smart anew.

HE.
O where is death where is hee now? of all that I do rew:
Can any witnes what it is? let death now bend his bow
A naked hand is stronge ynough to make mee stowpe ful low
Let any wight in al the worlde attempt to set on mee
I warrant him, approch let him, Ah wretched might I bee
This wayward agony hath take his perfit wits away.
Haue hence his tooles, and eake his shaftes for daunger hence conuay,
His ruddy gills that glow like fier some mischiefe doe pretend.
To shrowde my selfe (alas) into what corner shall I wend?
This mallady a frensy is, this onely is the meane
To conquer Hercules, why then doe I as doting quean?
Thus fall to teares and seeke to shrynke, may bee that hee will haue,
Alcmenas hand to giue the stroke, to bring him to the graue.
But dye he in a Murreynes name, ere I for cowarde will
Such deadly penaunce bee enioynde, that on my doings still,
His haynous hand may vaunt it selfe, loe how the pangues full deepe,
With stuggling ceast, doe binde the purple vaynes with deadly sleepe,
And beating sore lift vp and downe his faynt and panting breast:
If I O Gods of this my noble Childe bee dispossest:
Be gracious yet, and for the worlde some Iusty champion saue.
Rid his annoy and let his limmes agayne theyr courage haue.

Hyllus. Alcmena. Hercules.
AL.
O noble Impe of Hercules, (alas) my Nephew deare,
That dost of wretched Alcmens Sonne the liuely feature beare.
Refrayne my chylde thy wayling woordes, this quiet sleepe perhap
Will ouercome these plonging fits. But loe! loe in my lap.
Hee doth begin to striue agayne, his fits begin a fresh.
Sleepe gieuing vp the feeble ghost to ranckle in the flesh.

HE.
What meaneth Thrachin craggy crest to shew before myne eyes?
Or now forsaking man am I aduaunst aboue the skies.
Why do the heauens prouyde for me? the father Ioue I see,
And eake my stepdame Iuno dire appeased now with me.
What heauenly harmony is this that soundeth in myne eare.
Dame Iuno calles me sonne in law, I se the pallace cleare
(Of christal skies and beaten rakes of Phœbus flaming wheele)
I see the dumpish moary denne of glowming lady night
Here he commaundeth darknes dim to shew it self in sight.
What meaneth this, who is it that the heauens agaynst me sparres?
And am I thus O father myne brought downe againe from starres.
Euen now Apolloës sowltring car did fume about my face
So nie I past the pinch of Death, lo Thrachin top in place
Who brought me backe to ground agayne, beneath me earst it lay
And al the world was vnder me, thou smart wert worne away,
Thou forcest me confesse the same. Ah mercy, mercy now.
In stead of farther vengeance do these humble wordes allow.
Lo Hillus, to thy mothers giftes such presentes shee preparde
Ah, might my trunchion punch her puddinges once as whilom farde
The haughty Ladye Amazon wel trounsed for her pride
On thedge of ysy Caucasus afront the mountayne syde.
O noble lady Megara were thou my wretched wyfe,
When rapt in rage of franticke fittes, I rest thee of thy life
Geue me my batt and bow in hand, my wrestes I wil imbrew.
And force ye all your brages on me with blemish blacke to rue.
Thus let of Hercules exployts a woman be the last.

Hi.
Forbeare O Syre thy hateful threates, she hath it, all is past.
The vengeance that ye seke on her already hath her spedd.
With wound receiued at your hand my mother lieth dead

Her.
(O blynded anguish: dye she should of Hercles furious hand)
Thus Licas hath his marrow lost the heate of burning brest
Wil haue me on the breathlesse coarse for to reuenge the rest
Why doth shee not yet fele her force both let her want a graue
And on her cursed flesh to feede let beastes her carkasse haue.

Hil.
The silly woman was more woe then ye that bide the smart.
Ye wil release some part hereof for pitty in your hart.
For greefe of you with her owne hande, alas her selfe she slew
Thus more then ye do aske of her, she doth her doyng rewe
Yet is it not your Wyfes misdeede that brought you to this plight.
No nor my mothers traytrous hand hath wrought this deepe deceit.
This treason Nessus did contriue whom yee did pay his hire,
With arrow shot into his Ribs for rape of Deianire.
Thus father with the Centaures bloud your shyrt was sore embrewde.
At Nessus hand the vengeaunce of your deede thus haue yee rewde.

HE.
Hee hath his will: all is dispacht, our Fates themselues display.
This is the day of death to mee. Thus earst to mee did say,
A charmed Oake, and all the wood that range with yelling noyse
Of Parnass hill the Temples shooke, and thundred out this voyce.
The dead mans hand whom thou before hast slayne,
O Hercules shall murther thee agayne.
Thou hauing mot the space of gulph and grounde,
And deapth of hell, heare shall thou bee confounde.
I therefore doe bewayle no more, such should our ending bee.
That Hercles conquerde after him no man aliue may see.
Now let mee dye a manly death, a stout and excellent,
And meete for mee: this noble day shall valiauntly bee spent.
Fell all the Timber on the grounde hew down all OEta wood.
Let coales deuower Hercules, set fyer fry his blould.
But ere I dye thou noble Impe of Pëans royall race.
This dolefull duety doe for mee: See that an whole day space,
My funerall fier flaming burne. And now my tender Hill,
The last peticion of my mouth make vnto thee I will.
Among the captiue Ladies, one there is, a noble Dame,
Of royall bloud, Euritus Chylde, Iole is her name:
Accept her to thy spousall Bed, whom victour I vnkinde
Haue trayned from her natiue home and but my heart, and mynde
Poore silly mayde I gaue her nought, and now shee shall mee lose.
Loe thus the wretched woman wailes her still encreasing woes.
But let her foster that she hath conceaued as Ioues ally,
And childe to mee bee't thyne by her that earst begot haue I:
And as for thee deare mother myne your dreary dole forgoe,
Your Hercules shall liue: doe not vayne teares on him bestowe:
My manhoode made a strumpet thought a Stepdame vnto thee,
But if that eyther Hercles byrth shewe her vnsure to bee,
Or be a man my sier or els be falsified my kin.
Now let Ioues iugling cease, and let my mothers slaunder lin,
I haue deserued a father well that haue aduaunst so hye
The glory of the rolling heauens, of nature tramde was I.
To worke the wondrous prayse of Ioue, and Ioue him selfe doth Ioy,
To haue the name of Hercules, begetting such a boy.
But pardon now my strayned teares, but you as Ioue his niece.
Shall as a stately matrone bee among the Dames of Greece.
Though Iuno with the thunderer in spousall chamber lyes
And in her heauenly hand doth weilde the scepter of the skies,
When euer bare shee such a Babe, and yet though heauen she hould
In heart agaynst a mortall man she fosters mallice oulde;
For spighte that borne of womans womb becounted thus I should.
Goe Titan goe, run out thy Race, thee onely I forsake.
I that went with thee foote by foote nowe to th'infernall lake,
And Ghostes, I go yet with this prayse to'th pit down will I passe
That Hercules of open foe yet neuer foyled was.
But hee in open combats brought his conquests all to passe.

Chorus.

O Titan crownd with blasing bush whose morning moystures make
The Moone her foamy bridell from her tyred teame to take.
Declare to'th Easterlinges whereas the ruddy morne doth ryse.
Declare vnto the Irishmen aloofe at western Skies.
Make knowne vnto the Moores annoyed by flaming axentree.
Those that with the ysy Wayne of Archas pestred bee.
Display to these that Hercules to th'eternall ghostes is gone
And to the bauling mastiffes den from whence returneth none.
With dusky dampe of filthy fog O Titan choake thy blaze,
With lowring light of wanny Globe on wofull wordlings gaze,
And let thy head bee muffled vp with cloudes and darknesse dim.
For Hercles sake, when shall thou finde, or where the like to him?
(O wretched worlde to whom wilt thou henceforth thy woes cōplaine,)
If any scattring pestilence on earth shall be renewde,
By venom ranck, from poyson mouth of scaly Dragon spewde:
If any Bore of Arcadie shall comber all a wood,
And teare the trauelers flesh with tuske embrewed in goary blood:
If any champion rough of Thrace with heart more hard in breast,
Then are the ysy rockes, where as the frozen Beare doth rest,
Shall trample thicke his stables fowle with bloud of slaughterd men,
When people quake for feare of warre, who shall assist them then?
If wrathfull Gods for vengeaunce will some monsters to be bread?
Loe nowe enfebled all of force his Karkasse lyeth dead,
Whom Natures moulde had made a match to thūdring Ioue in strēgth.
Hale out (alas) and let your playnt be hearde to townes at length.
Let women beat their naked armes, and wring their trembling handes,
Untrusse their hayre, and from theyr locks pluck of their binding bands.
Boult vp, and lock the Temple gates of Gods, and gave bee none,
But despret Iunoes Chapple doares. O Hercles thou art gone
To Lethes lake, and streame of Stix, from whence no Keele agayne
Shall bring thee backe: O silly soule thou goest to remayne
Among the grisely goblins grymme: from whence thou whilom came
With triumph sooner daunted death, and conquest of the same.
With gastly face, and karrayne armes, and neck that yeeldes to waight,
Thy ghost returnes, but Carons boate then shall not haue her fraight,
As balased with thy onely payse, and yet shalt thou not byde
Among the rascall sprites, but sit on bench by Eacus side,
And with the Iudges twayne of Creete as Umpier there to bee,
Appoynting paynes to soules that maye to their desartes agree.
Frō slaughter hold your guiltlesse hands, bath not your blades in bloud.
Yee states, that beare high sayle on earth, and floate in worldly good:
It merits prayse a mayden sword vndipt in goare to beare,
And while thou rayne, to keepe thy realme from cruell doings cleare.
But vertue hath a pryuiledge to passe vnto the skies.
To'th top of trosen Apell tree O Hercules wilt thou ryse?
Or where the sunne with scorching blaze his burning beames doth rest?
Or wilt thou bee a shyning starre amid the lukewarme west?
Where Calpe Rocke is heard with roaring noyse of wrastling waue?
What place amid the azur skye entendest thou to haue?
What place shall be in all the heauens from hurley burley free?
When Hercules amid the starres shall entertayned bee?
Let Ioue appoynt thy byding from the ougly Lion farre,
And burning Crab least thou with grysely countnaunce do thē skarre.
And make the trembling starres in heauen for feare to breake aray
And Titan quake: while spring doth prank with flowers ye tender spray,
Then hasty winter strip the trees of all their braunches greene.
Or sudden Summer deckt with leaues in busshy woods be seene.
And from the trees the Apples fall, the haruest being doone:
No age on earth shall wipe away the fame that thou hast woone.
As farre as Sun, or Stars can shyne, thy glorious name shall goe.
Amid the botome of the Sea first Corne shall sprout, and grow,
And brackish Seas his waters salt to water fresh shall chaunge:
And fixed starre of ysy beare from Clime to Clyme shall raunge,
And sink into the frozen poole agaynst his kindly sway,
Ere people cease the honour of thy triumphes to display:
O soueraygne Ioue wee wretched wightes this boone of thee doe craue,
No monstrous beastes, no noysome plagues, hereafter let vs haue:
With bloudy champions let the earth encombred bee no more:
Cast downe the hauty sway of Courtes: if ought annoyaunce sore
Shall cloy the earth, a champion to bee our shylde wee caue,
Whom as an honour of the Crowne his ruefull realme may haue.
(That stil will keepe his swerd from being taint with guiltlesse bloud.)
But loe what meanes this rumbling noyse? loe Hercles ster doth grone,
And sigheth for his sonne: is it the Gods that wayle, and mone.
Or is it Iunoes fearefull shrike, whom Hercles doth aggrise,
That seeing him for teare shee roares, and runneth from the skyes.
Or els did Atlas faltring feete with feeble sturring stumble?
And shrinking from his tottring waight thus force the Gods to rumble?
Or scared he the wauling ghostes, the which to feare he draue?
Or Cerberus brast his gingling Chaynes with buskling in his caue.
It is not so: but loe where Philoctetes doth appeare,
And Hercles famous shaftes to him bequeathed doth hee beare.

THE FIFT ACTE.

Nutrix. Philoctetes.
PH.
In such a chearefull sorte
As no man liues.

NV.
And could he with so sweete and merry looke,
The scorching panges and torments of his ending fier brooke?

PH.
That there was any heate at all his face did not bewray,
Who prou'de that power might force al things to stoupe and to obay,
That vnder sonne vntamed be.

NV.
Where did the noble knight,
Among the wrastling waues of sea display his matchlesse might:

PH.
That mischiefe witch all only yet the worlde knew not before,
Euen fier hath bin conquered as beastes and monsters more.
Among the toyles of Hercules the fier is crept in.

NV.
Declare vs how the flaming force of fier coulde hee win.

PH.
As soone as hee with smarting hand the Oeta hill had grypte,
And forthwith from ye braunched Beeche ye shrinking shade was wipte:
And felled from the stump it lyes, a Pyne tree hard hee bendes,
That crakes the clowdes, & down from skyes his hawty head he sendes
The Rocke did totter ready for to reele, and with the sway
It tumbleth downe, a little groue withall it beares away.
A spreading Oake of Chaon big, whose leaues did euer rush,
And dimde the sunne, and did beyonde the woode his braunches push.
It being hewde doth crack, and eake in twayne the wedges knappes:
The steele startes back and thus the toole of Iron bides the rappes,
And flyes out of the Logge, at length at roore it shogde and shooke,
And falling downe full lythtly the ouerthrow it tooke.
Forthwith the place lost all his light, the byrds scaard fro their nest
Doe soare about the cropped wood, and holes wherein to rest,
And chirping with their weary winges about the plot they flicker
In euery tree the ringing strokes were multiplied thicker.
The holy Oakes in hugy hand the Iron Axe did feele.
No timber on the stallen stocks might scape the hewing steele,
Thus all the wood vpon a pile is heapt, and one by one
The Logges are layde as hygh as heauen that Hercules thereon
Might haue a narrow roome: his burning bones for to bestow.
On Pynetree top, and towghest Oake the fier begins to glowe.
And on the stumped willowe flamth, and thus the forrest wyde
Doth make the Kill: the Popler wood all Hercles blocks doth hyde.
But as the puissaunt Lyon when his fits doe vexe him sore,
Lies wallowing on his back, and through the forrest lowde doth rore.
So fareth hee, who woulde haue thought hee had to burning gon?
As one that climbs to heauen, not fier, he was to looke vpon
When vp he stept on Oeta mount and gazed on his Kill.
Being layde aloft he brake the blocke, so heauy was hee still.
The shyues yet coulde not beare his wayght he calling for his bow
Did say to mee, haue Philocktet, on thee I it bestow,
This same is it that Hydra with his swarming heads did know.
This did fetch downe the stimphall foules, and all that wee haue daunt,
Goe thou with this let victory, and happinesse thee haunt,
For neuer shall thou shute agaynst thy foes with these but speede.
If at a byrde amid the clowdes thou aame shee dies indeede.
These certayne shaftes shall bring thy marke down from the azur sky,
Thys bow shall not deceaue thy hand, full oft I did it try,
And made it meete to beare a shaft, and cast his leauell dew.
Thyne arrowes shall not fayle thyne aame if that thou nock them trew,
I aske but only this of thee, put fier to the Stack,
Bestow on mee my funerall flame to bryng me to my wrack.
This knarry Club (quoth hee) the which no hand shall euer losse
Shall onely with his Hercules in fier goe to losse,
This also (quoth hee) shouldst thou haue if thou could weild the same,
Beside his maister let it lye to help towarde the flame,
And then beside him down hee layes the Lyons hayry skin
To burne with him: the shaggy case hid all the pyle within.
The people sobde, and none there was but sorrow straynde his teares.
The mother mad for egar griefe her breast all bare shee beares,
And naked downe toth Nauill steade displayes her tender teates.
And languishing with wringed hands her naked dugges shee beates
And cryeth out vpon the Gods on Ioue himselfe shee calles,
Her shriking rang through all the place so womanlike shee yalles.
Be still (quoth hee) good mother: force your showres of teares to cease.
Your dreary dole disgraceth much the death of Hercules.
Wayle secretly vnto your selfe: why make ye Iuno glad,
To se that you a weeping day with store of teares haue had?
(It doth her good to see her bawdes, to stand with weeping eyes.)
Forbeare, forbeare your malady, tis deadly sinne for yee,
To teare the teates, and rent the wombe, that first did foster me.
And as he blustred giuing gruntes when earst he led in chayne
The hownd aboute the townes of Grece what tyme he came agayne
Tryumphing ouer conquerd hel defying Plutoës might,
And dreadful desteny: so on the fyre he lay vpright.
What conquerour euer sat in coatch with such a chereful grace?
What tyrant did controll his folke by law with such a face?
How husht was al thing at his death? himselfe he could not weepe
And also we had cleane forgot the wound of sorrowes deepe
None doth lament him at his death now were it shame to wayle:
Alcmen (whom nature ought to moue) her teares now do her fayle.
And thus as yll as was the sonne the mother stoode almost.

N.
But at his burning did hee not call on the heauenly host,
Remembring Ioue to heare his suite.

Ph.
As on in depe dispayre
He lay, and staryng vp so rould his eyes into the ayre
To spye if Ioue lookt downe to him from any turret hye.
Then with his handes displayd to heauen (quoth he) where so thou lye,
And lokest downe to se thy sonne, this same, this same is hee,
Whom one day eeked with a night engendred hath to thee
If East and West if Scithia, and euery burning plot,
That parched is with glowing glede of Phœbus fier hot
Doth sing my prayse? and if the earth ful satisfyde with peace
If languishing and wayling woords in euery towne doe cease
If none their alters do imbrew with any guiltles gore,
Then Ioue let my vncaged spirite haue heauen for euermore.
As for thinfernall dennes of death they do not me detarre?
Nor scouling Plutoes dungeon darck, but Ioue I do abhorre.
Unto those gastly Goblins as a silly shade to goe,
Sith I am he whose conquering hand gaue them their ouerthrowe.
Withdraw these foggy clowdes of night, display the glimsyng light
That Hercles broyld with flying flames the Gods may haue in sight:
And if thou do denye (O syre) the starres and heauen to mee
To geue me them agaynst thy will thou shalt constrayned bee,
If glutting griefe do stop thy speach, the Stygian goulphes set oape,
And let mee dye, but first declare within the heauenly coape,
That thou accepst me as thy soone: this day it shal be wrought,
That to bee raysd aloft to starres, I may be worthy thought.
Thou hast doone litle for me yet: it may be doubted well
Whether Ioue did first beget his sonne, or damnd him first to hell.
And (quoth he) let my stepdame see, how wel I can abyde
The scorching heate of burning brandes: for fyer then he cride,
And sayth to me O Philoctet in hast vppon me throw
The burning logges, why quakest thou? dost dastard thow forslow,
For feare to this wicked deede? O coward, peasant slaue,
Thou art to weake to bende my bow, vnmeete my shaftes to haue
What aylest thou to loke so pale? and as thou seest mee lye
With cherefull looke couragiously do thou the fier plye.
Behold me wretch that broyle and burne my father opes the Skyes
And vnto me sonne Hercules come, come away he cryes.
O father Ioue (quoth he) I come: with that I waxed pale
And toward him a burning beame with might and mayne I hale:
But backe from him the billets flye and tumbling out they leape,
And from the limmes of Hercules downe falleth all the heape.
But he encrocheth on the fyre as it from him doth shrinke.
That many mountaynes whole were set on fyer a man would thinke
No noyse was hard, and all was husht, but that the fyer did hisse
In Hercles glowing paunch when as his liuer burning is.
If boysteous gyant Typhus had amid this fire bene throwne,
These torments would haue straind his teares & forst him sigh & grone.
Or tough Euccladus that tost a mountayne on his backe.
But Hercles lifted vp himselfe amid his fyres all blacke,
With smoake besmeard his corps halfe burnt in shiuers, gubs & flawes,
And downe the throate his gasping breath & flames at once he drawes
Then to Alcmen he turnd himselfe: O mother myne (quoth hee)
Should ye so stand at Hercles death? should you thus wayle for me?
And thus betwene the fire and smoke, vpright and stiffe he standes.
And neyther stoupes nor leanes awrye, but moues and stirs his hands,
With al his liuely gestures still, and thus he doth perswade.
His mother leaue the langusihing, and mourning that she made.
And did encourage all his men t'encrease the fyre than
As though he were not burning, but would burne some other man.
The people stoode astonished, and scant they would beleeue
That fire had any force on him, or that it did him greeue.
Because his chereful looke had such a maiesty and grace.
And neuer wilde vs meue the fyre that he might burne apace,
(And now when as he thought, he had endured pangues ynough,)
And stoutly bode the brunt of death, the blocks hee doth remoue,
That smothering lay, to make thē burne: then downward doth he shoue
And where the stewing heate did chiefely scorch, and burne most hot,
That way he thrusts his frying lims, and thether hath hee got.
(With steaming countnaunce vnapaulde his mouth now doth he fill)
With burning coales, his comely Bearde thē blazde about his cheekes:
And now when as the sparkling fier vnto his visage seekes,
The flame lickt vp his singed hayre, and yet he did not winke:
But open kept his staring eyes But what is this? my thinke
Alcmene cometh yonder as a woefull wight forlorne,
With sighes and sobs, and all her hayre befrounced rent, and torne.
And beares the remnaunt in her Lap, of Hercules the great.

Alcmena. Philoctetes.
Ph.
O mother of noble Hercules forbeare your dreary playnt:
His valiant death thus should not be with femal teares attaynt.
Ye should not languish thus for him, nor count him wretched man
In dying, who by noble mynd preuent his destny can.
His cheualry forbyddeth vs with teares him to bewayle:
The stately stomacke doth not stoupe: they sigh whose hartes do fayle.

Alc.
(Ile mone no more: behold, behold, most wretched mother I)
Haue lost the sheild of land and seas, where glittring Phœbe displayes
With whirling wheeles in foamy gulphes, and red and purple rayes
The losse of many sonnes I may lament in him alone.
Through him I lifted Kings to frowne, when crown my selfe had none
And neuer any mother liude, that neded lesse to craue
Of Gods, then I. I asked naught while I my sonne might haue.
What could not Hercles tender loue like on me to bestow?
What God would once denye to graunt or what he held me froe,
Twas in my powre to aske and haue. If Ioue would ought denye,
My Hercules did bring to passe I had it by and by.
What mortall mother euer bare and lost, so deare a sonne?
Earst downe the cheekes of Niobe the trilling teares did runne.
When of her deare and tender brattes she wholly was bereuen,
And did bewayle with strayned sighes her children seuen and seuen
And yet might I compare this one (my Hercles) vnto those
And I in him as much as shee in all her impes did lose.
The mothers that are maurning dames do lacke on hed and chefe,
And now Alcmene shalbe shee depriude of all releefe.
Cease woeful mothers cease, if that among you any are
Constrayne to shed your streaming teares by force of pensiue care:
Ye Lady whom lamenting long of women fourmed rockes,
Giue place vnto my gluttyng greefe, beat on with burning knockes
Ye handes vppon my riueled breast, alas am I alone
Enough for such a funerall to languish and to mone,
Whom al the world shall shortly neede? yet streach thy feble armes
To thumpe vppon thy sounding breast thy griefe with doleful larmes
And in despyte of al the gods powre out thy woeful crye
And to receiue thy flowing teares thy watry cheekes applye.
Bewayle Alcmenas woful state: the sonne of Ioue bewayle,
Whose byrth did cause the dusky day in kindly course to fayle.
The East compact two nightes in one: Lo, lo, a greater thing
Then glorious day the world hath lost now let your sorrowes ring,
Yee people al whose lowryng lordes he draw to dennes of death
Theyr blades (that reekt with guiltles gore) he put into the sheath.
Bestow on him your Christall teares, which he deserued well:
Howle out ye heauens, ye marble seas, and goulphes with gronings yell.
O Crete Deare darling vnto Ioue For loue of Hercles rore,
Ye hundred cityes beate your armes: my sonne for euermore
Is gone among the griesly ghostes, and shimmering shades of hell
Lament for him ye woeful wightes, that here on earth do dwell,

Hercules. Alcmena
Alc.
Whence roares this thundring voyce, yt doth against mine eares reboūd,
And biddeth mee to stint my teeres? I know it now I know,
The darksome dungeons daunted are, and Dennes of Lakes alow.
O Sonne art thou returnd to me from Stygian gulph agayne?
And can thou twise of ougly death the conquest thus obtayne?
And brast the balefull prisons twise, of glum and gastly night.
Against th'infernall fyrryesoorde preuayling thus by might?
May any scape from Acheron? Or dost thou scape alone?
Hath hell no power to holde thy sprite, when breath from breast is gone?
Or els hath Pluto baalde thee out, for feare least thou alone
Should cloyne his Scepter from his hand, & pluck him from his trone?
For I am sure I sawe thee layde vpon the burning trees:
And from thy Corps the flame and sparkes agaynst the welkin flyes:
That sure thou wast to poulder burnt, and feeble lyfe was lost:
But sure the deepes and pits of hell did not lock vp thy ghost.
Why were the deuills afrayde of thee? why quaked Ditis grim?
And did thy noble ghost seeme such a gastly bug to him?

HE.
The dampy dikes of Cocitas coulde not keepe me from light.
Nor Carons fusty musty Barge transported hath my sprite.
Now Mother mourne no more: once haue I seene the Hags of hell,
And all the stearne and steaming fiendes in dungeons deepe that dwell.
That mortall moulde I tooke of you to nought the flames haue fryed:
Heauen hath the substaunce that I tooke of Ioue: in fier yours died.
And therefore pawse your playntius teares, which parents vse to shed,
When wretchedly they wayle their sonnes, that dastardly are dead.
Thus vulgar varlets weepe: loe vertue hopes the Starres to get:
But faynting feare stil dreames on death, from heauen where I am set,
You heare my voyce: Euristeus now shal byde the deadly push
With charyot sway his cracked scull ye shal on sunder crush
Now must I hence aduaunce my Ghost vp to the rolling skyes
Once more I daunt the deuilles, and do the goblins grim aggrise

Alc.
But stay awhile my sonne: he fades and shrinketh from my sight
Aduaunst he is among the starres: doth this my charmed Spirite
Dote in a traunce? or do I dreame that I haue seene my sonne
A troubled mynd can scante beleue the thinges he seeth done.
But now I see thou art a God possessing heauen foraye.
I see it sure. I wil to Thebes thy triumphes to display.

Chorus.

Lo vertue scapes the gastly shades of hell,
Ye noble peeres that shyne in vertue bright
Dire desteny cannot constrayne you dwell
Among the glowming glades of ougly might,
Nor sinke your fame in loathsome lakes of spyte.
But when deaths day drawes on the gasping howre,
You purchast glory shall direct your right
To fynd the passage to the heauenly bower.
When flesh doth fall, and breathing body dies
Then (Fame the child of Vertue) doth arise.
But sluggish sottes that sleepe their dayes in sloth,
Or geue their golden age to loathsome lust.
Them and their names the wretches bury both,
When as their bones shall shryned be in dust:
The clay shall couer their carkases forlorne,
As though such kaytiffes neuer had bene borne,
But if that ought of memory they haue.
Yn thafter age it shalbe filthy shame.
The gnawing wormes torment not so in graue
Their rotten flesh, as tounges do teare their name,
That dayly kild to further mischiefe liues.
Lo both the fruite, that vice and virtue giues.

Ouid.