University of Virginia Library

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.