University of Virginia Library

THE SECOND SCENE.

Andromacha,
Come hither child out of the dennes to mee,
Thy wretched mothers lamentable store,
This Babe Vlisses (loe) this Babe is hee,
That stayeth your ships and feareth you so sore.
Submit thy selfe my sonne with humble hand,
And worship flat on ground thy maysters feete,
Thinke it no shame as now the case doth stand:
The thing that Fortune wilth a wretche is meete,
Forget thy worthy stocke of Kingly kynd,
Thinke not on Priams great nobility,
And put thy father Hector from thy mynde,
Such as thy Fortune let thy stomacke bee,
Behaue thy selfe as captiue bend thy Knee,
And though thy griefe pearce not thy tender yeares,
Yet learne to wayle thy wretched state by mee,
And take ensample at thy mothers teares.
Once Troy hath seene the weeping of a child,
When litle Priam turnde Alcides threats,
And he to whom all beastes in strength did yelde,
That made his way from hel, and brake their gates
His litle enmies teares yet ouercame,
Priam he sayd receiue thy liberty,
In seat of honor kepe thy Kingly name,
But yet thy Sceptors rule more faythfully.
Lo such the conquest was of Hercules.
Of him yet learne your hartes to mollify,
Do onely Hercles cruel weapons please,
And may no end be of your cruelty?
No lesse then Pryam, kneeles to thee this boy,
That lieth and asketh onely life of thee.
As for the rule and gouernaunce of Troy
Where euer Fortune wil ther let it bee.
Take mercy on the mothers ruthful teares
That with their streames my cheekes do ouerflow,
And spare this guiltles infantes tender yeares
That humbly falleth at thy feete so lowe.