 | Hercules Furens, Thyestes, Troas |  |
THE THIRD SCENE.
Pyrrhus, Agamemnon, Calchas.
What
tyme our sayles we should haue spread, vppon Sygeon Seas,
With swift returne from long delay, to seeke our homeward wayes.
Achilles rose whose onely hand, hath geuen Greekes the spoyle.
Of Troia sore annoyde by him, and leueld with the soyle,
With speede requiting his abode and former long delay,
At Scyros yle, and Lesbos both amid the Ægæon sea.
Til he came here in doubt it stoode of fall or sure estate,
Then though ye hast to graunt his wil ye shall it geue to late.
Now haue the other captaynes all the pryce of their manhood,
What els reward for his prowesse then her al onely blood?
Are his desertes thinke you but light, that when he might haue fled,
And passing Pelyus yeares in peace, a quiet life haue led,
Detected yet his mothers craftes, forsooke his womans weede,
And with his weapons prou'd himselfe a manly man indeede:
The King of Mysya, Telephus that woulde the Greekes withstand,
Comming, to Troy, forbidding vs the passage of his land:
To late repenting to haue felt. Achilles heauy stroke
Was glad to craue his health agayne where he his hurt had tooke
For when his sore might not be salu'd as told Appollo playne,
Except the speare that gaue the hurte, restoared help agayne.
Achilles plasters cur'd his cuttes, and sau'd the King aliue:
His hand both might and mercy knew to slay and then reuyne.
When Thebes fel: Eetion saw it and might it not withstand,
The captiue King could nought redresse the ruin of his land.
Lyrnesus litle likewyse felt his hand and downe it fill,
With ruine ouerturned like from top of haughty hil.
And taken Bryseys land it is and prisoner is she caught
The cause of strife betwene the Kinges is Chryses come to naught.
Tenedos yle wel knowne by fame and fertile soyle he tooke
That fostreth fat the Thracian flockes and sacred Cilla shooke
What bootes to blase the brute of him whom trumpe of fame doth show,
Through all the coastes where Caicus floud with swelling stream doth flow?
The ruthful ruine of these realmes so many townes bet downe,
Another man would glory count and worthy great renowne.
But thus my father made his way and these his iourneyes are,
And battayles many one he fought whyle warre he doth prepare.
As wisht I may his merits more shall yet not this remayne.
Wel knowne and counted prayse enough that he hath Hector slayne
Duryng whose life the Grecians al might neuer take the towne,
My father onely vanquist Troy, and you haue pluct it downe.
Reioyce I may your parentes prayse and brute abroade his actes,
It seemeth the sonne to follow well his noble fathers factts,
In sight of Priam Hector slayne, and. Memnon both they lay.
With heauy theere his parentes wayld to mourne his dying day.
Himselfe abhord his handy worke in fight that had them slayne,
The Sonnes of Goddes Achilles knew were borne to die agayne
The woman queene of Amazons that greu'd the Greekes ful sore.
Is turnd to flight then ceast our feare wee dread their bowes no more.
If ye wel waigh his worthynes Achilles ought to haue
Though he from Argos or Mycenas would a Uirgin craue,
Doubt ye herein? allow ye not that straight his wil be done.
And count ye cruel Pryams bloud to geue to Peleus sonne?
For Helen sake your owne childes bloud appeasd Dianas yre
A wonted thing and done ere this it is that I require.
Ag.
With swift returne from long delay, to seeke our homeward wayes.
Achilles rose whose onely hand, hath geuen Greekes the spoyle.
Of Troia sore annoyde by him, and leueld with the soyle,
With speede requiting his abode and former long delay,
At Scyros yle, and Lesbos both amid the Ægæon sea.
Til he came here in doubt it stoode of fall or sure estate,
Then though ye hast to graunt his wil ye shall it geue to late.
Now haue the other captaynes all the pryce of their manhood,
What els reward for his prowesse then her al onely blood?
Are his desertes thinke you but light, that when he might haue fled,
And passing Pelyus yeares in peace, a quiet life haue led,
Detected yet his mothers craftes, forsooke his womans weede,
And with his weapons prou'd himselfe a manly man indeede:
The King of Mysya, Telephus that woulde the Greekes withstand,
Comming, to Troy, forbidding vs the passage of his land:
[104]
Was glad to craue his health agayne where he his hurt had tooke
For when his sore might not be salu'd as told Appollo playne,
Except the speare that gaue the hurte, restoared help agayne.
Achilles plasters cur'd his cuttes, and sau'd the King aliue:
His hand both might and mercy knew to slay and then reuyne.
When Thebes fel: Eetion saw it and might it not withstand,
The captiue King could nought redresse the ruin of his land.
Lyrnesus litle likewyse felt his hand and downe it fill,
With ruine ouerturned like from top of haughty hil.
And taken Bryseys land it is and prisoner is she caught
The cause of strife betwene the Kinges is Chryses come to naught.
Tenedos yle wel knowne by fame and fertile soyle he tooke
That fostreth fat the Thracian flockes and sacred Cilla shooke
What bootes to blase the brute of him whom trumpe of fame doth show,
Through all the coastes where Caicus floud with swelling stream doth flow?
The ruthful ruine of these realmes so many townes bet downe,
Another man would glory count and worthy great renowne.
But thus my father made his way and these his iourneyes are,
And battayles many one he fought whyle warre he doth prepare.
As wisht I may his merits more shall yet not this remayne.
Wel knowne and counted prayse enough that he hath Hector slayne
Duryng whose life the Grecians al might neuer take the towne,
My father onely vanquist Troy, and you haue pluct it downe.
Reioyce I may your parentes prayse and brute abroade his actes,
It seemeth the sonne to follow well his noble fathers factts,
In sight of Priam Hector slayne, and. Memnon both they lay.
With heauy theere his parentes wayld to mourne his dying day.
Himselfe abhord his handy worke in fight that had them slayne,
The Sonnes of Goddes Achilles knew were borne to die agayne
The woman queene of Amazons that greu'd the Greekes ful sore.
Is turnd to flight then ceast our feare wee dread their bowes no more.
If ye wel waigh his worthynes Achilles ought to haue
Though he from Argos or Mycenas would a Uirgin craue,
Doubt ye herein? allow ye not that straight his wil be done.
And count ye cruel Pryams bloud to geue to Peleus sonne?
For Helen sake your owne childes bloud appeasd Dianas yre
A wonted thing and done ere this it is that I require.
The onely fault of youth it is not to refraine his rage
The Fathers bloud already sturres in Pryams wanton age:
105
The more thou mayst, the more thou oughtst to suffer in good part
Wherto would yee with slaughtred bloud a noble spirit stayne?
Thinke what is meete the Greekes to do, and Troyans to sustayne.
The proude estate of tyranny may neuer long endure.
The King that rules with modest meane of safety may be sure.
The higher step of princely state that fortune hath vs signd
The more behou'th a happy man humility of mynd
And dread the chaunge that chaūce may bring, whose gifts so sone be lost
And chiefly then to feare the Gods, whyle they the fauour most.
In beating downe that warre hath wonne, by proofe I haue ben taught,
What pompe and pride in twinke of eye, may fall and come to naught.
Troy made me fierce & proude of mynde, Troy makes me frayd withal:
The Grekes now stand wher Troy late fel, ech thing may haue his fal,
Sometyme I graunt I did my selfe, and Sceptors proudly beare,
The thing that might aduaunce my hart makes me the more to feare
Thou Priam perfit proofe presentst thou art to mee eftsones:
A cause of pride, a glasse of feare a mirrour for the nones,
Should I accoumpt the sceptors ought, but glorious vanity
Much like the borowed brayded hayre, the face to beautify.
One sodayne chaunce may turne to naught, and mayme the might of men
With fewer then a thousand shippes, and yeares in lesse then ten.
Not she that guydes the slipper wheele of fate, doth so delay:
That she to al possession grauntes, of ten yeares setled stay.
With leaue of Greece I wil confesse, I would haue wonne the towne
But not with ruine thus extreme to see it beaten downe.
But loe the battel made by night and rage of feruent mynd,
Could not abyde the brydling bitte that reason had assignd.
The happy sword once staind with blood vnsatiable is,
And in the darke the feruent rage doth strike thee more amis.
Now are we wreakt on Troy so much let all that may remayne.
A Uirgin borne of Princes bloud for offring to be slayne
And geuen be to slayne the tombe and ashes of the ded,
And vnder name of wedlocke see the guiltles bloud be shed,
I wil not graunt for myne should bee thereof both fault and blame.
Who when he may, forbiddeth not offence: doth wil the same.
Pyr.
And shall his sprights haue no reward their angers to appeyse?
Aga.
Yes very great, for all the world shall celebrate his prayse,
And landes vnknowen that neuer saw. the man so preysd by fame,
Shall heate and kepe for many yeares the glory of his name.
[105]
And let no bloud that may be cause of mothers teares, be shed.
What furious fransy may this be that doth your will so leade,
This earnest carefull sutte to make in trauayle for the dead?
Let not such enuy towarde your father in your heart remayne,
That for his sacrifice yee would procure an others payne,
Pyr.
Proude tirant, while prosperity thy stomacke doth aduaunce,
And cowardly wretch that shrinks for feare in case of fearefull chaunce.
Is yet agayne thy breast enflamde, with brand of Venus might?
Wilt thou alone so oft depriue Achilles of his right?
This hand shall giue the sacrifice, the which if thou withstand.
A greater slaughter shall I make, and worthy Pyrrhus hand.
And now to long from Princes slaughter doth my hand abide,
And meete it were that Polyxene were layde by Priams side.
Aga.
I not deny, but Pyrrhus chiefe renowne, in warre is this,
That Pryam slaine with cruell sworde, to your father humbled is.
Pyr.
My fathers foes we haue them known, submit themselues humbly,
And Pryam presently yee wot, was glad to craue mercy.
But thou for feare not stout to rule, liest close from foes vp shit:
While thou to Aiax, and Vlysses, dost thy will commit.
Aga.
But needes I must, and will confesse, your father did not feare:
When burnt our fleete with Hectors brands, & Greeks they slaughtred weare.
While loytring then a loofe he lay, vnmindfull of the fight.
In steede of armes with scratch of quill, his sounding harp to smight.
Pyr.
Great Hector then despising thee, Achilles songes did feare:
And Thessale ships in greatest dread, in quiet peace yet weare.
Aga.
For why aloofe the Thessale fleete, they lay from Troyans handes,
And well your father might haue rest, he felt not Hectors brandes.
Pir.
Well seemes a noble king to giue an other king reliefe.
Aga.
Why hast thou then a worthy king berieued of his life?
Pyr.
A poinct of mercy sometime is, what liues in care to kill.
Aga.
But now your mercy mooueth you a virgins death to will.
Pyr.
Account yee cruell now her death whose sacrifice I craue.
Your own deere daughter once yee knowe, your selfe to th'aulters gaue.
Aga.
Naught els could saue the Greekes frō seas, but th'only bloud of her:
A king before his children ought, his countrey to prefer.
Pyr.
The law doth spare no captiues bloud nor wil'th their death to stay
Aga.
That which the law doth not forbid, yet shame doth oft say nay.
Pyr.
The conquerour what thing he list, may lawfully fulfill.
Aga.
So much the lesse he ought to list, that may do what he will.
106
Thus boast ye these as though in all ye onely bare the stroke:
When Pyrrhus loosed hath the greekes, from bond of ten yeres yoke.
A.
Hath Scyros yle such stomaks bred?
P.
No bretherns wrath it knoes.
AG.
Beset about it is with waue.
PYR.
The seas it do enclose.
Thyestes noble stocke I know and Atreus eke full well,
And of the bretherns dire debate, perpetuall fame doth tell.
AG.
And thou a bastard of a mayde, defloured priuely.
Whom (then a boy) Achilles gat, in filthy lechery.
Pyr.
The same Achill that doth possesse, the raigne of Gods aboue,
With Thetys seas: with Æacus sprights, the starred heauen with Ioue
Aga.
The same Achilles that was slaine, by stroke of Paris hande.
Pyr.
The same Achilles, whom no god, durst euer yet withstand.
Aga.
The stoutest man I rather would his checkes he should refraine
I could them tame but all your bragges, I can full well sustaine.
For euen the captiues spares my sword: let Calchas called be.
If destynies require her bloud, I will thereto agree
Calchas whose counsel rulde our ships, and nauy hither brought,
Unlookst the poale and hast by arte the secretes thereof sought,
To whome the bowelles of the beast, to whom the thunder clap,
And blasyng starre with flaming traine, betokeneth what shall hap.
Whose words with dearest price I bought, now tell vs by what meane
The will of Gods agreeth that we returne to Greece againe.
Cal.
The fates apoint the Grekes to buy their waies with wonted price.
And with what cost ye came to Troy, ye shal repayre to Greece
With bloud ye came, with bloud ye must from hence returne againe,
And where Achilles ashes lieth, the virgin shal be slaine,
In seemely sort of habite, such as maydens wont ye see,
Of Thessalie, or Mycenas els, what time they wedded be.
With Pyrrhus hand she shal be slaine, of right it shalbe so
And meete it is that he the sonne, his fathers right should do.
But not this onely stayeth our shippes, our sayles may not be spred,
Before a worthier bloud then thine, (Polixena) be shed,
Which thirst thirst the fates, for Priames nephew, Hectors litle boy:
The Grekes shal tumble hedlonge down, from highest towre in Troy.
Let him there die, this onely way ye shal the gods appeas,
Then spread your thousand sayles with ioy ye neede not feare the seas.
[106]
Chorus.
May this be true, or doth the Fable fayne,
When corps is deade the Sprite to liue as yet?
When Death our eies with heauy hand doth strain,
And fatall day our leames of light hath shet,
And in the Tombe our ashes once be set,
Hath not the soule likewyse his funerall,
But stil (alas) do wretches liue in thrall?
When corps is deade the Sprite to liue as yet?
When Death our eies with heauy hand doth strain,
And fatall day our leames of light hath shet,
And in the Tombe our ashes once be set,
Hath not the soule likewyse his funerall,
But stil (alas) do wretches liue in thrall?
Or els doth all at once togeather die?
And may no part his fatal howre delay.
But with the breath the soule from hence doth flie?
And eke the Cloudes to vanish quite awaye,
As danky shade fleeth from the poale by day?
And may no iote escape from desteny,
When once the brand hath burned the body?
And may no part his fatal howre delay.
But with the breath the soule from hence doth flie?
And eke the Cloudes to vanish quite awaye,
As danky shade fleeth from the poale by day?
And may no iote escape from desteny,
When once the brand hath burned the body?
What euer then the ryse of Sunne may see,
And what the West that sets the Sunne doth know.
In all Neptunus raygne what euer bee,
That restles Seas do wash and ouerflow,
With purple waues stil tombling to and fro.
Age shal consume: each thing that liuth shal die,
With swifter race then Pegasus doth flie.
And what the West that sets the Sunne doth know.
In all Neptunus raygne what euer bee,
That restles Seas do wash and ouerflow,
With purple waues stil tombling to and fro.
Age shal consume: each thing that liuth shal die,
With swifter race then Pegasus doth flie.
And with what whirle, the twyse sixe signes do flie,
With course as svvift as rector of the Spheares,
Doth guide those glistering Globes eternally.
And Hecate her chaunged hornes repeares,
So drauth on death, and life of each thing vveares,
And neuer may the man, returne to sight,
That once hath felt the stroke of Parcas might.
With course as svvift as rector of the Spheares,
Doth guide those glistering Globes eternally.
And Hecate her chaunged hornes repeares,
So drauth on death, and life of each thing vveares,
And neuer may the man, returne to sight,
That once hath felt the stroke of Parcas might.
107
For as the fume that from the fyre doth passe,
With tourne of hand doth vanish out of sight
And swifter then the Northren Boreas
With whirling blaste and storme of raging might,
Driuth farre away and puttes the cloudes to flight,
So fleeth the sprighte that rules our life away,
And nothing taryeth after dying day.
With tourne of hand doth vanish out of sight
And swifter then the Northren Boreas
With whirling blaste and storme of raging might,
Driuth farre away and puttes the cloudes to flight,
So fleeth the sprighte that rules our life away,
And nothing taryeth after dying day.
Swift is the race we ronne, at hand the marke
Lay downe your hope, that wayte here ought to win,
And who dreads ought, cast of thy carefull carke:
Wilt thou it wot what state thou shalt be in,
When dead thou art as thou hadst neuer bin.
For greedy tyme it doth deuoure vs all,
The world it swayes to Chaos heape to fall.
Lay downe your hope, that wayte here ought to win,
And who dreads ought, cast of thy carefull carke:
Wilt thou it wot what state thou shalt be in,
When dead thou art as thou hadst neuer bin.
For greedy tyme it doth deuoure vs all,
The world it swayes to Chaos heape to fall.
Death hurtes the Corpes and spareth not the spright,
And as for all the dennes of Tænare deeepe.
With Cerberus kingdome darke that knowes no light,
And streightest gates, that he there sittes to keepe,
They Fancies are that follow folke by sleepe
Such rumors vayne, but fayned lies they are,
And fables like the dreames in heauy care.
And as for all the dennes of Tænare deeepe.
With Cerberus kingdome darke that knowes no light,
And streightest gates, that he there sittes to keepe,
They Fancies are that follow folke by sleepe
Such rumors vayne, but fayned lies they are,
And fables like the dreames in heauy care.
These three staues following are added by the translatour.
O dreadful day, alas, the sory time.
Is come of al the mothers ruthful woe,
Astianax (alas) thy fatal line
Of life is worne, to death strayght shalt thou goe,
The sisters haue decreed it should be so,
There may no force (alas) escape there hand,
There mighty Ioue their will may not withstand,
Is come of al the mothers ruthful woe,
Astianax (alas) thy fatal line
Of life is worne, to death strayght shalt thou goe,
The sisters haue decreed it should be so,
[107]
There mighty Ioue their will may not withstand,
To se the mother, her tender child forsake,
What gentle hart that may from teares refrayne
Or whoso fierce that would no pity take,
To see (alas) this guiltles infant slayne,
For sory hart the teares myne eyes do stayne
To thinke what sorrow shall her hart oppresse,
Her litle child to leese remedilesse,
What gentle hart that may from teares refrayne
Or whoso fierce that would no pity take,
To see (alas) this guiltles infant slayne,
For sory hart the teares myne eyes do stayne
To thinke what sorrow shall her hart oppresse,
Her litle child to leese remedilesse,
The double cares of Hectors wife to wayle,
Good Ladies haue your teares in readines.
And you with whom should pity most preuayle.
Rue on her griefe: bewayle her heauines.
With sobbing hart, lament her deepe distresse,
When she with teares shall take leaue of her son,
And now (good Ladies) heare what shall be done.
Good Ladies haue your teares in readines.
And you with whom should pity most preuayle.
Rue on her griefe: bewayle her heauines.
With sobbing hart, lament her deepe distresse,
When she with teares shall take leaue of her son,
And now (good Ladies) heare what shall be done.
| Hercules Furens, Thyestes, Troas | |