 | Hippolytus, Medea, Agamemnon, Herculas Oetaeus |  |
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THE TENTH TRAGEDY OF LANNAE SENECA, Entituled HERCVLES OETÆVS: Translated out of Latin into Englishe by I. S..
The Argument.
FINIS.
Hercvles
hauinge subdued the Sonnes of EVRITVS Kynge of
OEchalia, (who contrary to theyr
promise, denied to geue their Sister IOLE vnto him) & hauing made
conquest of the City and countrey thereabout, meant to sacryfice vnto
the Gods for his victory in that behalfe, and successe in briging away,
perforce, his beeloued IOLE. For the solemne celebration
whereof, he sent LYCAS his seruaunt, vnto DEIANEIRA
his Wyfe, to fetche his Robe, which hee alwayes vsed
when hee sacrifized. DEIANEIRA dippinge and besprinckling
the same Robe in the bloude of NESSVS the
Centaure, because she feared least her husband loued IOLE
better then he did her, (for NESSVS being shot through,
and slayne by HERCVLES, had perswaded & aduised her
that shee shoulde so doe, whensoeuer shee doubted that her
husbands loue were alienated from her to any other,) sent it
vnto him. Which Garment when HERCVLES had put
on, the poyson wherein it was dipped, and washed, enuenomed
all his Vitall partes, and droue him into most intollerable
tormentes. For remedy vvhereof hee sent to APOLLO
his Oracle at Delphos: from vvhence hee receiued aunswere,
that hee should bee caryed vnto Mounte OEtus, and
there, that a greate fier shoulde bee made: and as for all other
things, they should bee referred to the pleasure and direction
of IVPITER. The fier being there made and kindled by
PHILOCTETES, (vnto vvhom HERCVLES bequeathed
his Arrowes,) HERCVLES vvent vp into it, &
was there burned. Whose boanes being afterward sought for
and not founde, the standers by vvere fully perswaded that
he vvas deified, & taken vp into Heauen. When knowledge
thereof vvas broughte vnto DEIANIRA, shee
thinking her selfe to bee the cause of her husbandes tormenting death, strangled herselfe.
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188
- HERCVLES.
- ALCMENA,
- HYLLVS.
- NVTRIX.
- IOLE.
- CHORVS.
- PHILOCTETES.
- DEIANIRA.
The Speakers names.
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?
[188]
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.
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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,
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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.
Chorus.
The Gods in blisse that man doth coūteruaile,
That can at once both Graue, & glory gayne,
Death vpon death the whilst doth him assaile
Whose wretched life is lingred on in payne,
With frowning fate in spurning spighte who striues,
And sets the Keele of gaping goulphe at nought,
Will not submit his captiue handes to giues,
As dishe of dishonour in triumph to bee brought:
That can at once both Graue, & glory gayne,
Death vpon death the whilst doth him assaile
Whose wretched life is lingred on in payne,
With frowning fate in spurning spighte who striues,
And sets the Keele of gaping goulphe at nought,
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As dishe of dishonour in triumph to bee brought:
Like carefull caytife hee shall neuer droupe,
Whelmed in storming thoughts of sower annoy
Whose stomacke scornes, for dawnting death to stoupe,
Though seas amid the deepe in hoysted hoy
Driue him aloofe, when as a southern gale
Beates Boreas back, or eastern puffe agayne
Recoiles the western winde, and seemes to hale
From deepest sandes the surges torne in twayne.
Whelmed in storming thoughts of sower annoy
Whose stomacke scornes, for dawnting death to stoupe,
Though seas amid the deepe in hoysted hoy
Driue him aloofe, when as a southern gale
Beates Boreas back, or eastern puffe agayne
Recoiles the western winde, and seemes to hale
From deepest sandes the surges torne in twayne.
Tht broken planckes to catche hee scrambles not
Of wracked barke, as one that hopes to haue
Amid the Channell deepe a landing plot,
When dismall death appeares in euery waue
Hee cannot suffer shipwracke all alone:
With pined karrayne coarse, and streames of teares,
And with our countrey dust our heades vpon,
Powldring our lockes, wee languishe out our yeares.
Of wracked barke, as one that hopes to haue
Amid the Channell deepe a landing plot,
When dismall death appeares in euery waue
Hee cannot suffer shipwracke all alone:
With pined karrayne coarse, and streames of teares,
And with our countrey dust our heades vpon,
Powldring our lockes, wee languishe out our yeares.
Neyther flashing flame, nor thumping thunder cracke
Will once dawnt vs: O death thou dost pursew,
Where fortune fawnes: but where shee worketh wracke,
Thou shunnest those, that woulde thee not eschew,
Wee stand not in our razed countrey wall,
Whose ground shall now bee ouergrowne (alas)
With bramble, and bryer, and down the temples fall:
While mucky sheepecotes are planted in their place.
Will once dawnt vs: O death thou dost pursew,
Where fortune fawnes: but where shee worketh wracke,
Thou shunnest those, that woulde thee not eschew,
Wee stand not in our razed countrey wall,
Whose ground shall now bee ouergrowne (alas)
With bramble, and bryer, and down the temples fall:
While mucky sheepecotes are planted in their place.
And now the frostifaced Greeke (alas)
This way, this way, with all his droue of Neate
By so much of Æchalia must passe,
As heapt on ashes gloweth still with heate.
The Tessayle sheepherd sitting by the way
On iarringe Pype shall play his countrey ryme,
Singing wyth sighes alacke, and weladay,
Thus to bewayle the sorrowes of our time.
This way, this way, with all his droue of Neate
By so much of Æchalia must passe,
As heapt on ashes gloweth still with heate.
The Tessayle sheepherd sitting by the way
On iarringe Pype shall play his countrey ryme,
Singing wyth sighes alacke, and weladay,
Thus to bewayle the sorrowes of our time.
Ere tyme shall roll the race of many a yeare,
It will bee askt, where earst the towne did stand?
O well was I, when as I liued a leare,
Not in the barren balkes of fallow land,
Nor in Thessalia on the foodelesse cliues,
But now among rough Trachin craggy Rocks,
And ougly shrubs necessity mee driues,
Whose flaming toppes detarres the feeding Oxe.
It will bee askt, where earst the towne did stand?
[190]
Not in the barren balkes of fallow land,
Nor in Thessalia on the foodelesse cliues,
But now among rough Trachin craggy Rocks,
And ougly shrubs necessity mee driues,
Whose flaming toppes detarres the feeding Oxe.
And in the way lesse woods vntrode before
All comfortlesse, afright and in a maze
Needes must I trot alone, that would abhorre
The saluage beastes, that on the mountaynes graze
But better lot (if any Dames may haue)
They ouer Inach wambling streame shall row,
Or shrowd in Dirce Walles, where Ismen waue
With feeble force of shallow fourde doth flow.
All comfortlesse, afright and in a maze
Needes must I trot alone, that would abhorre
The saluage beastes, that on the mountaynes graze
But better lot (if any Dames may haue)
They ouer Inach wambling streame shall row,
Or shrowd in Dirce Walles, where Ismen waue
With feeble force of shallow fourde doth flow.
The hawty Hercles mother heere was wed,
What Scythian crag, what stones engendred him?
What Rocky mountayne Rhodope thee bred,
Of Tyrant Titans race a cursed lim?
Stipe Athos hill, the brutish Caspia land,
With teate vnkinde fed thee twixt rocke & stoane:
False is the tale, wherewith thou bearst in hande,
Two nights for thee thy Mother deare did groane.
What Scythian crag, what stones engendred him?
What Rocky mountayne Rhodope thee bred,
Of Tyrant Titans race a cursed lim?
Stipe Athos hill, the brutish Caspia land,
With teate vnkinde fed thee twixt rocke & stoane:
False is the tale, wherewith thou bearst in hande,
Two nights for thee thy Mother deare did groane.
While lingring starres long lodged in purple sky:
The shepherd starre his course did enterchaunge
With the loade starre, and vp the Moone doth sty,
That couched Phœbe durst not the Welkin raunge,
No Launce can pearce his monsters ruggy skin,
The blunted Iron tryed it with thumping thwack,
And Steele is not so tough: on naked skin
A swerd was brast, and stones rebounded back.
The shepherd starre his course did enterchaunge
With the loade starre, and vp the Moone doth sty,
That couched Phœbe durst not the Welkin raunge,
No Launce can pearce his monsters ruggy skin,
The blunted Iron tryed it with thumping thwack,
And Steele is not so tough: on naked skin
A swerd was brast, and stones rebounded back.
The force of fate he vtterly defies,
And toughly timberd as he is of lim
Hee doth contriue, how quarrells may arise,
That death might proue his febled force in him
The quaries coulde not enter to his flesh,
Nor yet the bowe with Scythian steule drawn deepe,
No nor the glaues, vvith vvhich Sarmacians fresh,
Hot skirmishes in th'ysy Clyme doe keepe.
And toughly timberd as he is of lim
Hee doth contriue, how quarrells may arise,
That death might proue his febled force in him
The quaries coulde not enter to his flesh,
Nor yet the bowe with Scythian steule drawn deepe,
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Hot skirmishes in th'ysy Clyme doe keepe.
No nor the Parthian better Archer farre,
Then Creete, who parcht with Phaetons soultring flame,
Vnder the Equinoctiall rayseth warre,
Gaynst th'easterling discomfetinge the same.
Hee with his body did batter downe the wall,
Of Oechalie: nothing may him withstande:
By valiaunt prowesse hee hath conquerd all:
Tis woon before, that hee doth take in hande:
Then Creete, who parcht with Phaetons soultring flame,
Vnder the Equinoctiall rayseth warre,
Gaynst th'easterling discomfetinge the same.
Hee with his body did batter downe the wall,
Of Oechalie: nothing may him withstande:
By valiaunt prowesse hee hath conquerd all:
Tis woon before, that hee doth take in hande:
The howgy Briar that fifty paunches had,
The hawty Giges with hundred armes likewise,
That clamb vp Thassayle hills as Gyant mad,
When rebells rage woulde take from Ioue the skyes,
Such steaming byes, such gastly visage foule,
Such Gargle face, such countnaunce glaring grim,
Wherewith stearne Hercles glowningly doth scowle,
Those Gyaunts had resembling playnely him.
The hawty Giges with hundred armes likewise,
That clamb vp Thassayle hills as Gyant mad,
When rebells rage woulde take from Ioue the skyes,
Such steaming byes, such gastly visage foule,
Such Gargle face, such countnaunce glaring grim,
Wherewith stearne Hercles glowningly doth scowle,
Those Gyaunts had resembling playnely him.
Thus greatest blisse is prone to greatest bale
There wants no woe whose cup wee haue not taste
Wee wretched women haue with countnaunce pale.
There wants no woe whose cup wee haue not taste
Wee wretched women haue with countnaunce pale.
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:
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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.
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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.
What
furious fits of ramping rage doth boyle in Womens brayne,
When in one roofe both wedded wyfe and Harlot doe remayne?
Both Scylla, and Charibdis gulfe no daunger like it haue,
That raging roll on Sicill shore by heapes the wrastling waue.
No saluage beaste so bad there is, that betters not the same.
For bruite no sooner blew abroade the captiue Harlots name,
And that the beauty of Iolas countnaunce shyned brym,
As doth the day, when marble skies, no filthy fog doth dim:
Or like the glimse of twinckling starre, that in the welkin bright
Displayes abroade his shooting beames amid the frosty night:
But Deianira Hercles Wyfe all bedlem like doth stande,
And scowleth as the Tiger wilde which couched on the sande
In shade of rocke doth shrowde his whelpes, and buskells vp in haste,
Espying him that of his younge doth come to make the waste:
Or like as Menas ouercharg with Bacchus licour sweete
With Iuy bunche on thurled Darte from place to place doth fleete:
Shee makes a pawse, in doubt where to shee might derect her pace,
Then frantickly as on bestraught, shee stikes from place to place
In Hercles house thus was shee rapt in rage of flaming yre,
The house to narrow was, to coole the despret dames desire.
Shee runneth in, shee trots about, shee makes a soddayne stay.
The mallady in frowning face it selfe doth playne display.
No galling griefe remaynes at heart. The teares gush from her Eyes,
Nor in on kinde of temper still in frenly fits shee fryes:
Her glowning lookes with fury fell doe chaunge her former hew,
Now glaring stande her steaming Eyes, and palenesse doth ensew
The ruddy colour in her Cheekes: the anguish of her heart
Driues out her dolors deepe, to shew them selues in euery part:
Shee languisheth, shee moanes for helpe, shee wayles her froward fate,
And all the house an Echo makes resounding her estate.
Loe headlong to and froe shee hies, and running still about
Goes mumbling, and the secrets of her minde shee mutters out:
Oh Iuno Spouse to Ioue, what part of heauen soeuer thou keepe,
Rayse vp some saluage beast, agaynst lewde Hercules to creepe,
That I shall thinke sufficient: If any combrous snake
With breeding hee doe craule, more big in all the slimy lake,
That may not take a foyle: or if that ought doe yet remayne,
So ougsome, grisely, curst, and grim, so fraught with filthy bayne,
That hee may loathe to looke thereon, that may his sight appaule.
Undoe their Dennes, from hydeous hoales procure such vermin craule.
Or if that fiendes can none be founde, then coniure thou my ghost
To what thou list: this soule of myne can well abyde the most:
Some vncouth shape, some gastly face, such one bestow on mee,
Whereby the horrour of my pangues may counteruayled bee:
My boyling breast cannot conceaue the vengeaunce, I woulde trye:
Why serchest thou the corners farre, of landes aloofe that lye?
And turnst ye world thus vpside downe? why seekst thou harme of hell?
To traunce him, furious fiendes ynough within this breast doe dwell:
Make me thyne instrument of hate: his stepdame I will bee,
And thou mayest worke the ouerthrow of Hercules by mee:
Appoynct my hand to any thing. Why dost thou make delay?
Use thou my frensy, as the meanes to compasse his decay.
The mischiefe shall be brought to passe, what euer thou wilt craue:
Why stande yee musing still thereon? contriued all I haue:
Thou mayst forbeare thy mallice now: my rancour shall suffice,
To bryng this wretche vnto his ende, my selfe can well deuise.
When in one roofe both wedded wyfe and Harlot doe remayne?
Both Scylla, and Charibdis gulfe no daunger like it haue,
That raging roll on Sicill shore by heapes the wrastling waue.
No saluage beaste so bad there is, that betters not the same.
For bruite no sooner blew abroade the captiue Harlots name,
And that the beauty of Iolas countnaunce shyned brym,
As doth the day, when marble skies, no filthy fog doth dim:
Or like the glimse of twinckling starre, that in the welkin bright
Displayes abroade his shooting beames amid the frosty night:
But Deianira Hercles Wyfe all bedlem like doth stande,
And scowleth as the Tiger wilde which couched on the sande
In shade of rocke doth shrowde his whelpes, and buskells vp in haste,
Espying him that of his younge doth come to make the waste:
Or like as Menas ouercharg with Bacchus licour sweete
With Iuy bunche on thurled Darte from place to place doth fleete:
[192]
Then frantickly as on bestraught, shee stikes from place to place
In Hercles house thus was shee rapt in rage of flaming yre,
The house to narrow was, to coole the despret dames desire.
Shee runneth in, shee trots about, shee makes a soddayne stay.
The mallady in frowning face it selfe doth playne display.
No galling griefe remaynes at heart. The teares gush from her Eyes,
Nor in on kinde of temper still in frenly fits shee fryes:
Her glowning lookes with fury fell doe chaunge her former hew,
Now glaring stande her steaming Eyes, and palenesse doth ensew
The ruddy colour in her Cheekes: the anguish of her heart
Driues out her dolors deepe, to shew them selues in euery part:
Shee languisheth, shee moanes for helpe, shee wayles her froward fate,
And all the house an Echo makes resounding her estate.
Loe headlong to and froe shee hies, and running still about
Goes mumbling, and the secrets of her minde shee mutters out:
Oh Iuno Spouse to Ioue, what part of heauen soeuer thou keepe,
Rayse vp some saluage beast, agaynst lewde Hercules to creepe,
That I shall thinke sufficient: If any combrous snake
With breeding hee doe craule, more big in all the slimy lake,
That may not take a foyle: or if that ought doe yet remayne,
So ougsome, grisely, curst, and grim, so fraught with filthy bayne,
That hee may loathe to looke thereon, that may his sight appaule.
Undoe their Dennes, from hydeous hoales procure such vermin craule.
Or if that fiendes can none be founde, then coniure thou my ghost
To what thou list: this soule of myne can well abyde the most:
Some vncouth shape, some gastly face, such one bestow on mee,
Whereby the horrour of my pangues may counteruayled bee:
My boyling breast cannot conceaue the vengeaunce, I woulde trye:
Why serchest thou the corners farre, of landes aloofe that lye?
And turnst ye world thus vpside downe? why seekst thou harme of hell?
To traunce him, furious fiendes ynough within this breast doe dwell:
Make me thyne instrument of hate: his stepdame I will bee,
And thou mayest worke the ouerthrow of Hercules by mee:
Appoynct my hand to any thing. Why dost thou make delay?
Use thou my frensy, as the meanes to compasse his decay.
The mischiefe shall be brought to passe, what euer thou wilt craue:
Why stande yee musing still thereon? contriued all I haue:
Thou mayst forbeare thy mallice now: my rancour shall suffice,
To bryng this wretche vnto his ende, my selfe can well deuise.
193
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?
[193]
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:
194
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.
[194]
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,
195
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.
[195]
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:
196
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,
[196]
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.
197
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 KingOENEVS 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.
[197]
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.
198
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?
[198]
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.
199
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.
[199]
THE THIRD ACTE
Deianira, Chorus.
Alas
through all my quiveryng ioyntes a running feare doth rest,
My staryng hayre standes stiffe vpright and in my quaking breast
Deepe terrour dwelles, and eake my hart, with dread amazde doth pant,
With swelling vaynes my liuer beates, as when the wynd doth want
Asswagd in calmy day, and yet the raging Seas do rore
Whose wrastling waues were rais'd aloft by Southren blastes before.
So yet my wits be tocksicate, although my feare be gone:
Thus God turmoyles vs when he meanes to cloy th'unhappy one.
Thus prowd attempts be dasht at length,
Ch.
My staryng hayre standes stiffe vpright and in my quaking breast
Deepe terrour dwelles, and eake my hart, with dread amazde doth pant,
With swelling vaynes my liuer beates, as when the wynd doth want
Asswagd in calmy day, and yet the raging Seas do rore
Whose wrastling waues were rais'd aloft by Southren blastes before.
So yet my wits be tocksicate, although my feare be gone:
Thus God turmoyles vs when he meanes to cloy th'unhappy one.
Thus prowd attempts be dasht at length,
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:
200
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.
Go
mother goe, seeke out aloofe yf place of bydyng dwell
Beyond the ground both goulfe and starres beyond both heauen and hell,
Flye mother far beyond the boundes of Hercules his toyle
Dei.
Beyond the ground both goulfe and starres beyond both heauen and hell,
Flye mother far beyond the boundes of Hercules his toyle
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,
[200]
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
201
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
[201]
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.
202
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.
[202]
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.
203
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.
[203]
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,
204
To stop her despret enterpryse and mischiefy to withstand.
Chorus.
Fvll true the dytty isThat 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.
[204]
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.
205
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.
[205]
THE FOVRTH ACTE
Hercules, Chorus.
Retyre
, retyre thy breathing breastes, O Titan blasing bright,
Unfold thy mysty mantle blacke of dim and darkesome Night:
And dash this dreary day wherin I Hercules must die.
With blemishblack of filthy fogge defyle the griesly skye:
Preuent my stepdames naughty mynd. Now should I haue resignde,
(O Father) my inheritaunce of Plutoes dungeon blynd
Heauen frames should here & there be brast, & eyther poale should crack
Why sparest thou the starres and letst thy Hercles go to wracke?
Now Ioue loke round aboute the heauens, and if thou can espye
On gyant heaue the Thessaill cliues agaynst thassalted skye
Unburdned be Enceladus of hugye Osir hill,
And hurled be on Hercules the mighty mountayne still
Prowde Pluto shall vnbarre the gates of blacke and glummy caue
Yet maugre all their might (o Father Ioue) I wil thee saue
From fury of thy foes, and set thee vp agayne in skyes,
Yet lo Ioue, loe, hee that on earth thy thunderdint supplies,
And for to be liuetenaunt of thy boultes on earth was borne,
Is sent to burning Limbo lake in tormentes to be torne
The sterne Enceladus agayne in ramping rage shal ryse
And hurle the weighte (that now doth croude him downe) against the skies,
Thus by my death they shal presume to conquer heauen all
But ere that day vppon my corse compel the heauens to fall
Breake downe, breake downe, the welkin that thou suffrest to decay,
Ch.
Unfold thy mysty mantle blacke of dim and darkesome Night:
And dash this dreary day wherin I Hercules must die.
With blemishblack of filthy fogge defyle the griesly skye:
Preuent my stepdames naughty mynd. Now should I haue resignde,
(O Father) my inheritaunce of Plutoes dungeon blynd
Heauen frames should here & there be brast, & eyther poale should crack
Why sparest thou the starres and letst thy Hercles go to wracke?
Now Ioue loke round aboute the heauens, and if thou can espye
On gyant heaue the Thessaill cliues agaynst thassalted skye
Unburdned be Enceladus of hugye Osir hill,
And hurled be on Hercules the mighty mountayne still
Prowde Pluto shall vnbarre the gates of blacke and glummy caue
Yet maugre all their might (o Father Ioue) I wil thee saue
From fury of thy foes, and set thee vp agayne in skyes,
Yet lo Ioue, loe, hee that on earth thy thunderdint supplies,
And for to be liuetenaunt of thy boultes on earth was borne,
Is sent to burning Limbo lake in tormentes to be torne
The sterne Enceladus agayne in ramping rage shal ryse
And hurle the weighte (that now doth croude him downe) against the skies,
Thus by my death they shal presume to conquer heauen all
But ere that day vppon my corse compel the heauens to fall
Breake downe, breake downe, the welkin that thou suffrest to decay,
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.
206
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
[206]
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.
207
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?
[207]
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.
208
O Father
wyth thy heauenly Eyes, Beholde my wretched plight,
For neuer HERCVLES till nowe did craue thy hande of might,
Not when as Hydraës fruictfull heads about my Lyms were wounde,
Nor when I lockt in Lakes alow fought with th'inferdall hownde,
These hideous fiends I foylde, with kings, & tyraunts prowde like wise.
Yet in these broyles I neuer lookt for succour to the skyes.
This hand did still auouch the vowe, no thunder for my sake
Did glitter in the holy heauens, this day hath bid mee make
Some suite to thee, and of my boones yet heeres the first and last,
One onely Thunder boult I craue at mee O Ioue to cast.
Count mee a Giaunt of my selfe, I can no lesse deuise,
While Ioue I thought of promise true, I spaarde the starry skies.
Bee thou eyther a cruell sier, or pity if thou haue,
Yet lend thy sonne thy help, and get the glory of my graue:
Preuenting this my dreary death, of this if thou doe skorne,
Or that thy hand abhorre the guilt, from Sicill cliue suborne
The soultring Giaunts that in hand high Pindus mount can weilde,
Or Ossa that it hurlde on mee I may therewith bequeilde,
Brast vp hell Gates, and let Bellone scourge mee with Iron rod,
And let in armes encounter mee the mighty Martiall God,
My brother I acknowledge him but by my stepdames side,
And Pallas thou my sister take, let at thy brother slide
A thirling Darte. O stepdame myne with humble suite I craue
A wounde of thee that womans hand may bring mee to my graue:
Why dost thou feede thy fury nowe as one whose wrath were ende
And satisfied? what seeke yee more? I stoupe, I yeelde, I bende.
Thou seest Alcides humbly layde, where as vnto this day
That euer I entreated thee, no Land, no Beast can say,
Now doe I neede thy deadly wrath to rid mee of my payne,
And now thy rankour is appeasde, thy hate is quencht agayne,
And thus thou sparest mee my life, when as I wishe to dye:
O Earth will none make mee the fier wherein my bones may fry?
Nor reach a blade to Hercules, conuay yee all from mee?
So let no country Monsters breede when I shall buried be,
And let none wayle the losse of mee if monsters more aryse,
God send another Hercules to succour Earth and skyes.
But as for mee on euery side ding out my broosed brayne,
And crash with sturdy stroke of stones my cursed Scull in twayne
And rid my torments: wilt thou not? O worlde to mee vnkynde,
And are so soone our benefits forgotten in thy mynde.
Een to this bower with bugs and beasts thou had bin ouer layde
Had not I bin: good people cause his torments to be stayde
That succored you: time giues you leaue to recompence my payne,
If yee with death will guerden mee, I aske none other gayne.
AL.
For neuer HERCVLES till nowe did craue thy hande of might,
Not when as Hydraës fruictfull heads about my Lyms were wounde,
Nor when I lockt in Lakes alow fought with th'inferdall hownde,
These hideous fiends I foylde, with kings, & tyraunts prowde like wise.
Yet in these broyles I neuer lookt for succour to the skyes.
This hand did still auouch the vowe, no thunder for my sake
Did glitter in the holy heauens, this day hath bid mee make
Some suite to thee, and of my boones yet heeres the first and last,
One onely Thunder boult I craue at mee O Ioue to cast.
Count mee a Giaunt of my selfe, I can no lesse deuise,
While Ioue I thought of promise true, I spaarde the starry skies.
Bee thou eyther a cruell sier, or pity if thou haue,
Yet lend thy sonne thy help, and get the glory of my graue:
Preuenting this my dreary death, of this if thou doe skorne,
Or that thy hand abhorre the guilt, from Sicill cliue suborne
The soultring Giaunts that in hand high Pindus mount can weilde,
Or Ossa that it hurlde on mee I may therewith bequeilde,
Brast vp hell Gates, and let Bellone scourge mee with Iron rod,
And let in armes encounter mee the mighty Martiall God,
My brother I acknowledge him but by my stepdames side,
And Pallas thou my sister take, let at thy brother slide
A thirling Darte. O stepdame myne with humble suite I craue
A wounde of thee that womans hand may bring mee to my graue:
Why dost thou feede thy fury nowe as one whose wrath were ende
And satisfied? what seeke yee more? I stoupe, I yeelde, I bende.
Thou seest Alcides humbly layde, where as vnto this day
That euer I entreated thee, no Land, no Beast can say,
Now doe I neede thy deadly wrath to rid mee of my payne,
And now thy rankour is appeasde, thy hate is quencht agayne,
And thus thou sparest mee my life, when as I wishe to dye:
O Earth will none make mee the fier wherein my bones may fry?
Nor reach a blade to Hercules, conuay yee all from mee?
So let no country Monsters breede when I shall buried be,
[208]
God send another Hercules to succour Earth and skyes.
But as for mee on euery side ding out my broosed brayne,
And crash with sturdy stroke of stones my cursed Scull in twayne
And rid my torments: wilt thou not? O worlde to mee vnkynde,
And are so soone our benefits forgotten in thy mynde.
Een to this bower with bugs and beasts thou had bin ouer layde
Had not I bin: good people cause his torments to be stayde
That succored you: time giues you leaue to recompence my payne,
If yee with death will guerden mee, I aske none other gayne.
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?
209
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
[209]
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.
O dismall
day, O anguishe, O the heaper vp of ill.
Ioues Sonne is slayne, his Daughter dyes, his Nephew lyueth still.
First by the Stepdames treason, is the Sonne to ruin brought.
The Daughter likewyse trapt in traynes, and thereby come to nought.
What hoary head in chaunge of tunes, or teanour of his age
Hath seene, that Fortunes frowning Face hath sturd such stormy rage.
One dolefull day bereaueth mee (alas) of parents twayne.
But least I speake to spite the Gods, I will somewhat refrayne.
I lost a Father, Hercules this onely I complayne.
AL.
Ioues Sonne is slayne, his Daughter dyes, his Nephew lyueth still.
First by the Stepdames treason, is the Sonne to ruin brought.
The Daughter likewyse trapt in traynes, and thereby come to nought.
What hoary head in chaunge of tunes, or teanour of his age
Hath seene, that Fortunes frowning Face hath sturd such stormy rage.
One dolefull day bereaueth mee (alas) of parents twayne.
But least I speake to spite the Gods, I will somewhat refrayne.
I lost a Father, Hercules this onely I complayne.
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.
210
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
[210]
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.
211
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 makeThe 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?
[211]
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,
212
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.
[212]
THE FIFT ACTE.
Nutrix. Philoctetes.
Of
Hercules most heauy haps Good youngman make reporte
How did hee beare it at his death?
PH.
How did hee beare it at his death?
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.
213
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.
[213]
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,
214
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,
[214]
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.
Learne
Lordings, learne to feare and dread th'unweildy fatall force.
This little dust is all thats left of Hercles hugy coarse.
That boysteous Giaunt is consumde vnto these ashes small
O Titan what a mighty masse is come to nought at all.
Aye me an aged womans lappe all Hercules doth shrowde,
Her lap doth serue him for a graue, and yet the champion prowde,
With all his lumpe stils not the roome. Aye mee a burthen small
I feele of him to whom whole heauen no burthen was at all.
O Hercules, deare chylde, O sonne the season whilom was,
That thou to Tartar pits, and sluggish dens aloofe didst passe
For to repasse: from deepe of hell when wilt thou come agayne?
For to poisoyne the spoyles thereof, or bring from captiue chayne
To life thy friendly Theseus. But when wilt thou returne
Alone: can flaming Phlegethon thy ghost in torments burne:
Or can the mastifft Dogge of hell keepe downe thy woefull sprite?
Where then ought I come see thy soule and leaue this loathed light?
When shall I rap at Tartar gate? what Iawes shall mee deuower?
What death shall dawnt mee: goest thou to hell, and hast no power
To come agayne: alas why do I wast, the day in teares and playnte
O wretched lyfe why dost thou last thou shouldest droupe and faynt,
And loath this dreary daye: how: can I beare to Ioue agayne
Another noble Hercules, what sonne may I obtayne
So valiant to call mee thus (Alcmena mother myne)
O happy spouse Amphitrio twyse happy hast thou bene
In entring at the dennes of death, and through thy noble sonne
The Deuils at thy presentes quake to see thee thether come.
Though thou but forged father wert to Hercules of late
Whether shall old beldam goe whom many kinges do hate:
If any prince remayne with blody breast and murdring mynde
Then woe to mee: if groning babes be any left behynd,
That sorrow for theyr parentes deathes now, now for Hercles sake
Theyr mallice let them wrecke on mee, on mee dyre vengeance take
If any young Bustris be, I feare the Persians sore
Wil come and take me captiue hence in chaynes for euermore.
If any tyrant feede his borce with gubbes of straungers flesh
Now let his pampred iades vnto my Carksse fall a fresh.
Perhap dame Iuno coueteth on me to wrecke her yre.
And on vs of her burning breast wil turne the flaming fire
Her wreckful hand doth loyter now sith Hercules is slayne.
And now to feele her spurning spyte as harlot I remayne.
My valyant sonne is cause of this my wombe shall barrayne be,
Least I shoul beare another child as hardy as was hee.
Oh whether may Alcmena goe? or whether shal she wend?
What countrey or what kingdomes may my careful hed defend
Where may I couch my wretched coarse, that euery where am knowne?
If I vnto my natiue soyle repayre among myne owne,
Euristeus is of Argos lord thus woefully forlorne.
I wil to Thebes where I was wed, and Hercules was borne:
And where with Ioue I did enioy dame Uenus deare delight.
O blessed woman had I bene and in most happy plight,
If Ioue with flash of lightning leams and blasing flakes of fyre
Had smolthred me as Semele was lowst at her desyre.
Would God that Hercles whyle he was a babe, had rypped bene
Out of my wombe, then wretchedly I should not this haue seene
The pangues and tormentes of my sonne, whose prayse doth coūteruaile
Euen Ioue: then had I learnd that death at length might him assayle,
And take him from my sight: O child, who wil remember thee?
For now vnthankfulnes is great in men of each degree:
(That for thy sake I do not know where entertaynd to bee)
The curtesie of the Cleonies I wil attempt and trye
Whom from the Lyon rescewde he and made the monster dye
Or shal I too th'Archadians go where thou didst slea the boare
Where thy renowne remaineth ryfe of great exploytes before,
The parlous serpent Hydra heare was slayne there fel he dead,
That with the flesh of slaughtred men his greedy horses fedde
And ponder were the Stimphall burdes compelde to leaue the skye
And tamed by the handy toyle, now doth the Lyon frie,
And belketh stiffling fumes in heauens whyle thou liest in thy graue
O if mankynd but any sparke of thankful nature haue
Let all men preace to succour mee Alcmene thy mother deare.
What if among the Thracians I venter to appeare,
Or on the bankces of Heber floud? thy prowesse euery where.
Hath succoured all these foyles: for earst in Thrace thou did put downe
The fleshy maungers of the King and put him from his crowne,
By slaughter of the saluage prince the people liue in peace.
Where diddest thou denye thy helpe to make tormoyling cease?
Unhappy mother that I am a shryne where may I haue
To shrowde thy coarse: for all the world may striue aboute thy graue
What temple may be meete to shryne thy reliques safe for aye,
And hallowed bones? what nations vnto thy ghost shal pray?
O noble sonne what sepulchere what hearse may serue for thee?
The world it selfe through flying flame thy fatal tombe shalbe:
Who taketh here this payse from me his ashes which I beare
Why loath I them? imbrace his bones keepe stil his ashes here,
And they shal be a shield to thee his dust shal thee defend,
To see his shadow, princes prowde for feare shal stoupe and bend
Ph.
This little dust is all thats left of Hercles hugy coarse.
That boysteous Giaunt is consumde vnto these ashes small
O Titan what a mighty masse is come to nought at all.
Aye me an aged womans lappe all Hercules doth shrowde,
Her lap doth serue him for a graue, and yet the champion prowde,
With all his lumpe stils not the roome. Aye mee a burthen small
I feele of him to whom whole heauen no burthen was at all.
O Hercules, deare chylde, O sonne the season whilom was,
That thou to Tartar pits, and sluggish dens aloofe didst passe
For to repasse: from deepe of hell when wilt thou come agayne?
For to poisoyne the spoyles thereof, or bring from captiue chayne
To life thy friendly Theseus. But when wilt thou returne
Alone: can flaming Phlegethon thy ghost in torments burne:
Or can the mastifft Dogge of hell keepe downe thy woefull sprite?
Where then ought I come see thy soule and leaue this loathed light?
When shall I rap at Tartar gate? what Iawes shall mee deuower?
What death shall dawnt mee: goest thou to hell, and hast no power
215
O wretched lyfe why dost thou last thou shouldest droupe and faynt,
And loath this dreary daye: how: can I beare to Ioue agayne
Another noble Hercules, what sonne may I obtayne
So valiant to call mee thus (Alcmena mother myne)
O happy spouse Amphitrio twyse happy hast thou bene
In entring at the dennes of death, and through thy noble sonne
The Deuils at thy presentes quake to see thee thether come.
Though thou but forged father wert to Hercules of late
Whether shall old beldam goe whom many kinges do hate:
If any prince remayne with blody breast and murdring mynde
Then woe to mee: if groning babes be any left behynd,
That sorrow for theyr parentes deathes now, now for Hercles sake
Theyr mallice let them wrecke on mee, on mee dyre vengeance take
If any young Bustris be, I feare the Persians sore
Wil come and take me captiue hence in chaynes for euermore.
If any tyrant feede his borce with gubbes of straungers flesh
Now let his pampred iades vnto my Carksse fall a fresh.
Perhap dame Iuno coueteth on me to wrecke her yre.
And on vs of her burning breast wil turne the flaming fire
Her wreckful hand doth loyter now sith Hercules is slayne.
And now to feele her spurning spyte as harlot I remayne.
My valyant sonne is cause of this my wombe shall barrayne be,
Least I shoul beare another child as hardy as was hee.
Oh whether may Alcmena goe? or whether shal she wend?
What countrey or what kingdomes may my careful hed defend
Where may I couch my wretched coarse, that euery where am knowne?
If I vnto my natiue soyle repayre among myne owne,
Euristeus is of Argos lord thus woefully forlorne.
I wil to Thebes where I was wed, and Hercules was borne:
And where with Ioue I did enioy dame Uenus deare delight.
O blessed woman had I bene and in most happy plight,
If Ioue with flash of lightning leams and blasing flakes of fyre
Had smolthred me as Semele was lowst at her desyre.
Would God that Hercles whyle he was a babe, had rypped bene
Out of my wombe, then wretchedly I should not this haue seene
The pangues and tormentes of my sonne, whose prayse doth coūteruaile
Euen Ioue: then had I learnd that death at length might him assayle,
And take him from my sight: O child, who wil remember thee?
For now vnthankfulnes is great in men of each degree:
[215]
The curtesie of the Cleonies I wil attempt and trye
Whom from the Lyon rescewde he and made the monster dye
Or shal I too th'Archadians go where thou didst slea the boare
Where thy renowne remaineth ryfe of great exploytes before,
The parlous serpent Hydra heare was slayne there fel he dead,
That with the flesh of slaughtred men his greedy horses fedde
And ponder were the Stimphall burdes compelde to leaue the skye
And tamed by the handy toyle, now doth the Lyon frie,
And belketh stiffling fumes in heauens whyle thou liest in thy graue
O if mankynd but any sparke of thankful nature haue
Let all men preace to succour mee Alcmene thy mother deare.
What if among the Thracians I venter to appeare,
Or on the bankces of Heber floud? thy prowesse euery where.
Hath succoured all these foyles: for earst in Thrace thou did put downe
The fleshy maungers of the King and put him from his crowne,
By slaughter of the saluage prince the people liue in peace.
Where diddest thou denye thy helpe to make tormoyling cease?
Unhappy mother that I am a shryne where may I haue
To shrowde thy coarse: for all the world may striue aboute thy graue
What temple may be meete to shryne thy reliques safe for aye,
And hallowed bones? what nations vnto thy ghost shal pray?
O noble sonne what sepulchere what hearse may serue for thee?
The world it selfe through flying flame thy fatal tombe shalbe:
Who taketh here this payse from me his ashes which I beare
Why loath I them? imbrace his bones keepe stil his ashes here,
And they shal be a shield to thee his dust shal thee defend,
To see his shadow, princes prowde for feare shal stoupe and bend
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
216
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,
[216]
Why
Mother wayle you mee as tost in torments hoat of hell?
Or plonged in panges of death, sith I among the Spheares doe dwell?
Forbeare, forbeare, to moane for mee for vertue opened hath
To mee the passage to the Starres: and set mee in the path,
That guides to euerlasting Lyfe, whence coms this dreadfull sounde?
Alc.
Or plonged in panges of death, sith I among the Spheares doe dwell?
Forbeare, forbeare, to moane for mee for vertue opened hath
To mee the passage to the Starres: and set mee in the path,
That guides to euerlasting Lyfe, whence coms this dreadfull sounde?
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.
217
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.
[217]
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.
FINIS.
Omne genus scripti grauitate Tragœdia vincit.
Ouid.
| Hippolytus, Medea, Agamemnon, Herculas Oetaeus | |