 | Hercules Furens, Thyestes, Troas |  |
[THE FIRST SCENE.]
Thyestes, Phylisthenes
My
countrey bowres so long wisht for, and Argos rytches all,
Chiefe good that vnto banisht men, and Mysers may befall,
The touch of soyle where born I was, & gods of natiue lād,
(If gods they be,) & sacred towres I see of Cycolps hād:
That represent then all mans woorke, a greater maiesty.
Renowned studies to my youth, where noble sometime I
Hiue not so seelde as once, the palme in fathers chariot woon.
All Argos now to meete with me, and people fast will roon:
But Atreus to. yet rather leade in woods agayne thy flight,
And bushes thicke, and hid among the brutyshe beastes from sight,
Lyke lyfe to theyrs: where splendent pompe of court & princely pryde,
May not with flattring fulgent face, allure thine eyes aside
With whom the kingdome geuen is, behold, and well regarde,
Beset but late with such mishaps, as all men counte full harde,
I stoute and ioyfull was: but now agayne thus into feare
I am returne. my mynde misdoubtes, and backeward seekes to beare
My body hence: and forthe I draw my pace agaynst my will.
Phy.
Chiefe good that vnto banisht men, and Mysers may befall,
The touch of soyle where born I was, & gods of natiue lād,
(If gods they be,) & sacred towres I see of Cycolps hād:
That represent then all mans woorke, a greater maiesty.
Renowned studies to my youth, where noble sometime I
Hiue not so seelde as once, the palme in fathers chariot woon.
All Argos now to meete with me, and people fast will roon:
But Atreus to. yet rather leade in woods agayne thy flight,
And bushes thicke, and hid among the brutyshe beastes from sight,
Lyke lyfe to theyrs: where splendent pompe of court & princely pryde,
May not with flattring fulgent face, allure thine eyes aside
With whom the kingdome geuen is, behold, and well regarde,
Beset but late with such mishaps, as all men counte full harde,
I stoute and ioyfull was: but now agayne thus into feare
I am returne. my mynde misdoubtes, and backeward seekes to beare
My body hence: and forthe I draw my pace agaynst my will.
With slouthfull step (what meaneth this?) my father stādeth still,
And turnes his face and holdes him selfe, in doubt what thing to do.
Thy.
What thing (my minde) considrest thou? or els so long whereto
Do'st thou so easie counsayle wrest? wilt thou to thinges vnsure
Thy brother and the kingdome trust? fearst thou those ills t'endure
Now ouercome, and mielder made? and trauayls do'st thou flee
That well were plaste? it thee auayls, a myser now to bee.
Turne hence thy pace while leefull is, and keepe thee from his hande.
Phy.
What cause thee driues (O father deere) thus rō thy natiue lande,
Now seene to shrynk? what makes thee thus frō things so good at last
Withdrawe thy selfe? thy brother comes whose ires be ouerpast,
And halfe the kyngdome geues, and of the house Dylacerate,
Repayres the partes: and thee restores agayne to former state.
Thy.
The cause of feare that I know not, thou do'st require to heare.
I see nothing that makes mee dread, and yet I greatly feare.
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And other way then I would passe, I am withholden backe.
So oft the ship that driuen is with wynde and eke with Ore,
The swelling surge resisting both beares backe vpon the shore.
Phy.
Yet ouercome what euer stayes, and thus doth let your mynde,
And see what are at your returne, prepar'de for you to finde.
You may O father raygne.
Thy.
I may but then when die I mought.
P.
Chiefe thing is powre.
T.
nought worth at al, if thou desyre it nought.
P.
You shall it to your children leaue.
T.
the kingdome takes not twayne,
Phy.
Who may be happy, rather would he myser yet remayne?
Thy.
Beleue me well, with titles false the great thinges vs delight:
And heauy haps in vayne are fearde. while high I stoode in sight,
I neuer stinted then to quake, and selfe same sworde to feare,
That hanged by myne owne side was. Oh how great good it were,
With none to striue, but careles foode to care and rest to knowe?
The greater gyltes they enter not in cotage set alowe.
And safer foode is fed vpon, at narrowe boorde alway,
While drunke in golde the poyson is by proofe well taught I say,
That euill haps before the good to loue it likes my will.
Of haughty house that standes aloft in tickle top of hyll,
And swayes asyde, the cyty lowe neede neuer be affright:
Nor in the top of roofe aboue, there shynes no Iuery bright,
For watchman noue defendes my sleepes by night, or gardes my rest:
With fleete I fishe not, nor the sees I haue not backwarde prest,
Nor turn'de to flight with builded wall: nor wicked belly I
With taxes of the people fed: nor parcell none doth lie,
Of ground of myne beyonde the Getes: and Parthians farre about:
Nor worshiped with frankinsence I am, nor (Ioue shet out)
My Aulters decked are: nor none in top of house doth stande
In garden treese, nor kindled yet with helpe of eche mans hande,
The bathes doe smoake: nor yet are dayes in slouthfull slumbers led,
Nor nightes past forth in watche and wyne, without the rest of bed,
Wee nothing feare, the house is safe without the hidden knyfe,
And poore estate the sweetenes feeles, of rest and quiet lyfe.
Greate kindome is to be content, without the same to lyue.
Phy.
Yet should is not refused be, if God the kingdome giue.
Thy.
Not yet desierd it ought to be.
Phy.
your brother byds you rayne.
Thy.
Bids he? the more is to be fearde: there lurketh there some trayne.
Phy.
From whence it fell, yet piety is woont to turne at length:
And loue vnfaynde, repayres agayne his erst omitted strength.
[28]
Doth Atreus then his brother loue? eche Vrsa fyrst on hye,
The Seas shall washe. and swelling surge of Seas of Sicylye
Shall rest and all asswaged be: and corne to rypenes growe
In bottome of Ionian seas, and darkest night shall showe
And spreade the light about the soyle: the waters with the fyre,
The lyfe with death, the wynde with seas, shall friendship first requyre,
And be at league.
Phy.
of what deceipte are you so dreadfull here?
Thy.
Of euerychone: what ende at length might I prouide of feare?
In all he can he hateth me.
Phy.
to you what hurt can he?
Thy.
As for my selfe I nothing dread you litle Babes make mee
Afrayde of him.
Phy.
dread, yee to be beguilde when caught yee are:
To late it is to shoon the trayne in middle of the snare.
But goe we on, this (father) is to you my last request.
Thy.
I follow you. I leade you not.
Phy.
God turne it to the best
That well deuised is for good: passe farth with cherefull pace.
| Hercules Furens, Thyestes, Troas | |