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 | Hippolytus, Medea, Agamemnon, Herculas Oetaeus |  |
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.
| Hippolytus, Medea, Agamemnon, Herculas Oetaeus | |