University of Virginia Library

OEDIPVS. THE FIFTH TRAGEDY OF SENECA, ENGLISHED The yeare of our Lord M.D.L.X. BY ALEXANDER NEVYLE.

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The pagination of the source document has been followed.

The Speakers names.

• OEdipus.
• Chorus.
• Tiresias.
• Sanex.
• Iocasta.
• Creon.
• Manto.
• Phorbas.
• [Nuntius]

THE FIRST ACTE.

OEDIPVS the King. IOCASTA the Queene.
[Oed.]
The Night is gon: and dredfull day begins at length t'appeere:
And Phœbus all bedim'de with Clowdes, himselfe aloft doth reere.
And glyding forth with deadly hue, a dolefull blase in Skies
Doth beare: Great terror & dismay to the beholders Eyes.
Now shall the houses voyde bee seene, with Plague deuoured quight?
And slaughter that the night hath made, shall day bring forth to light.
Doth any man in Princely throne reioyce? O brittle Ioy,
How many ills? how fayre a Face? and yet how much annoy
In thee doth lurke, and hidden lies? what heapes of endles strife?
They iudge amisse, that deeme the Prince to haue the happy life.
For as the Mountaynes huge and hie, the blustring windes withstand.
And craggy Rocks, the belching fluds do dash, and driue fro land:
Though that the Seas in quiet are, and calme on euery side:
So kingdoms great all Windes and Waues of Fortune must abide.
How well shund I my Father deare Polybius Scepters late?
Exil'de, bereft of carefull feare, in Pilgrims happy state:
I call the Gods to witnes this, and Stars that glyde in Skyes.
A Kingdome is befauln to mee, I feare least thereof ryse
A mischiefe, (mighty Ioue,) to great I feare, alas I feare
Least these my handes haue reft the life, of thee my Father deare.
Apollo byds mee this beware, and yet a mischiefe more
Foretels.

IOC.
Can any greater bee than that you tolde before?
Of Father slayne by sonnes own hand?

OE.
(O thrice vnhappy state.)
With horror all dismaide I stand in dred of threatned fate.
I am ashamed my destnies fowle (O Queene) to thunder out,
And openly to blase my feare my trembling minde doth dout:
Yet out it goes. Phœbus me bids my Mothers Bed to fly,
As though that I her Sonne, with her incestuously should ly.
This feare, and onely this me causde my fathers kingdome great
For to forsake. I fled not thence when feare the minde doth beat.
The restlesse thought still dreds the thing, it knows can neuer chaunce.
Such fansies now torment my heart, my safety to aduaunce,
And eke thyne euer sacred lawes (O Nature) for to keepe
A stately Scepter I forsooke, yet secret feare doth creepe
Within my breast: and frets it still with doubt and discontent,
And inward pangues which secretly my thoughts a sunder rent.
So though no cause of dred I see, yet feare and dred I all,
And scant in credit with my selfe, my thoughts my minde appall
That I cannot perswaded be though reason tell mee no,
But that the Web is weauing still of my decreed wo.
For what should I suppose the cause? a Plague that is so generall,
And Cadmus country wholy spoyles, and spreds it selfe through all?
Should mee, amongest so huge a heape of plagued Bodies spare?
And we alone amongst the rest reserude to mischiefes are?
O heauy hap. And bide I stil alone the spoyle to see?
Of Cities great, of men, of beasts, by plague that wasted bee?
And thou amongst so many ils, a happy lyfe to lead,
Couldst once perswade thy selfe (O wretch) without all feare or dread.
Of Phœbus secret Iudgements to, and that in Kinges estate?
Thou, thou, infected hast the ayre, in such a filthy rate.
Thou art the onely cause of woe: by thee these euils rise,
By thee to graue on such a sorte, this wretched people plies.
The firy flaming frying heate, afflicted hearts that wasts,
Is not relieude as wont it was by cold and pleasaunt blasts.
The gentle western windes haue left with healthfull puffes to blow,
And now the fiery Dog with blase of boyling heate doth glow.
The Sunne in Leo burns so hoate, and so the earth doth broyle,
That fluds and hearbes are dryed vp, and nought remaynes but soyle,
So throughly schorcht and stued with heate, that moisture all is gone,
And now amongst so many fluds, remaynes alas not one.
The places dry are onely seene the streames are drunken vp.
And water that doth yet remayne: the soaking Earth doth sup.
The Moone with clowds quight ouer cast, all sadly forth she glides,
And dolefull darksom shades of night, the whole worlde ouerhides.
No Star on high at all doth shine, but black and hellike hue
Hath ouershaded all the Skyes, whence deadly mists ensue.
The corne that wonted was to growe and fruitfully to spring,
Now to the voyded Barnes nought els, but empty stalkes doth bring.
No part of all our kingdoms is free from destruction:
But all together run and rush, to vtter confusion.
The old men with the yong (alas:) the Father with the chylde
The plague consumes. Both man & wife, all beasts both tame & wylde
Are spoyled by the Pestilence. No pompe at all remaynes,
That wonted was in Funeralles, to ease the mourners paynes.
Alas this spoile of people made, by plague hath dryde myne eyes:
And secretly within my breast, the griefe it boyling fryes.
And that, that wonted is to hap, in most extremest ills:
My tearees are dry and glutting griefe my wretched breast it fills.
The crased father beares the sons, vnto theyr dampish graues:
And after him with burden like, the Mother comes and raues:
And euen lamenting as they stand, starck dead downe both they fall,
And mourners new in like estate, for them and theirs they call.
Who likewise in the midst of all their toyle and paynfull payne
Do drop into the graue they digd, and so the place doe gayne
That was prepar'de for others erst. A hell it were to heere
The horror, and the miseries that euery where appeere.
A Tombe is made for noble men, fast on the people hie,
And in, their burdens fling. Great Pieres all vnregarded lye.
For lack of Graues, to Ashes cleane their bodyes some doe wast:
And some halfe burnt doe leaue them there, and home away for hast
They run, & more they fetch, and then wood, fier, graue, and all
Doth want. And downe for very griefe the wretched mysers fall.
No prayers auaile. No Arte can help this raging Plague t'appease:
For none almost is left aliue each others woe to ease.
Before thine aulters heere O God my feeble hands I hold,
Requiring all my destinies, at once with courage bold.
And that by death I may preuent, my Countrey prest to fall.
For this, and only this (O God) vpon thy name I call.
Let mee not be the last that dies: The last that goes to Graue.
Graunt this, and then (O mighty Ioue) my full request I haue.
O cruell Gods vnkinde: O more than thrise vnhappy Fates:
That onely mee denied is, that lyghtes on all Estates.
I meane a speedy death (alas) these euils to preuent,
And deadly woes that doe my heart with restlesse rage torment,
Leaue of thy blubbering teares (O fooole,) & fly these kingdomes foylde
With rotten plagues & Botches vile, and graues ech where dispoylde.
All which diseases thou vnhappy guest didst bring with thee
Dispatch. Away. Goe hence. At least, vnto thy parents flee.

IO.
What bootes it Sir these mischiefs, great wt piteous plaints to aggreuate.
Stodily to beare aduersity, is firste for Kings estate.
When dred and daunger most assayle: when cruell Cares doe crush
Thy princely breast, Thē oughtst thou most to beare and bide the push.
It is no poinct of courage stout to yeelde to fortunes frown.

OED.
Nay. Feare could neuer cause mee stoupe nor Fortune cast mee down.
My manly minde was neuer thraule to vaine and peauish feares,
But euermore in each assault, it pryncely courage beares.
No not a thousand glistering swords, nor Mars himselfe in fielde,
Can once dismay my Countenaunce, or cause my heart to yeelde.
The very Graunts fierce and huge in fight withstand I dare.
That Monster Sphinx whose riddels through the world renowmed are,
Could not dismay my dredles heart, nor cause my courage slide
For all the terrors I beheld, I did that Fury byde.
I saw him belching Gobs of bloud, I viewde full well the fielde
That all to spatterd lay with bloud, and bones quight ouerheelde.
And when yt he on Mountaynes top with mouth full huge to see.
Stoode gaping all with greedy Iawes to feede and pray on mee,
Oft fluttering with his fearefull wynges and shaking oft his tayle,
Began full like a Lyon fierce with threates mee to assayle.
Of whom straight way the Riddell I, it rusht into myne eares
With roring sound His winges he claps, the Rock for hast hee teares.
Desiring with my Bowels still his greedy Iawes to glut:
But I full soone assoyled had the question that he put.
And all the subtile poincts thereof, and twisted knots vntwinde.

IO.
What makes you wish for death to late, and waste your wordes in wind.
You might haue died than (you know) for Sphinx so nobly slain.
This kingdom vnto you, and yours for euer shall remain.

OED.
The ashes of that Monster vile, agaynst vs doth rebell.
That vile mishapen lothsome Beast, that raging Feend of Hell.
Is cause of all the plague that doth this mournfull City smight.
Now only this remaynes alone, if Phœbus heauenly might,
Can any meanes inuent for vs, or way of mercy make:
Whereby these burning Plagues at length may haply chaūce to slake.

THE SECONDE ACTE.

The first Scene.

OEDIPVS. CREON.
[Oed.]
For feare my body chilles, alas, and trembling all I stand
In quakinge dread. I seke and toyle, these mischiefes to withstand.
But al in vayne I spend my thoughtes it wil not be, I see,
As long as all my sences thus by cares distracted bee.
My mynd desyrous stil (Oh God,) the truth for to vnfold,
With doubtful Dread is daunted so, that it can scant vpholde
It selfe. O Brother deare, if way or meane of health thou know,
Declare it out and sticke not all the truth to me to show.

Cre.
The Oracle (most noble king) ys darke, and hidden lies.

Oed.
Who doubtful health to sicke men brings, all health to thē denies.

Cre.
Apolloes vse yt is the troth in darkesome dens to hold.

Oed.
And Oedipus of Gods it hath thinges hidden to vnfold:
Speake out, tell all, and spare not man: all doubtes I can discus.

Cre.
Apollo then (most noble King) himselfe commaundeth thus.
By exile purge the Princes seat, and plague vvith vengeance due
That haples vvretch, vvhose bloudy handes of late King Laius slue:
Before that this perfourmed bee, no hope of milder ayer:
Wherfore do this (O King) or else All hope of helpe dispayre.

Oe.
Durst any man on earth attempte, that noble Prince to slay?
Shew me the man that I may him dispatch out of the way.

Cre.
God graunt I may it safely tel: the hearyng was to terrible,
My senses all amased are: it is a thing so horrible,
That I abhorre to vtter it (oh God) for feare I quake
And euen at the very thought my lims beginne to shake.
Assoone as I Apollos Church, had entred in affrayd,
Uppon my face flat downe I fell, and thus to him I prayd.
Oh God if euer thou didst rue, on wretched misers state,
If euer men opprest thou easd, or didst their cares abate,
If euer thou in present neede didst present helpe declare,
If euer thou afflicted Hartes with cares consumd didst spare:
Shew now thy wonted clemency and pitty knowne of pore.
Scant had I sayd: Resounding all the mountaynes thondring rore:
And filthy feendes spout out their flames out of their darksome caues.
And woods do quake, and hilles do moue, and vp the surging waues
Do mount vnto the skies aloft, and I amased stand.
Still looking for an aunsweare at Apollos sacred hand.
When out with ruffled hayre disguisd the Prophet comes at last:
And when that shee had felt the heate of mighty Phœbus blast.
All puffyng out she swelles in rage, and pattring still she raues,
And scant she entred had into Apollos shyning caues,
When out a thundring voyce doth brust that's farre aboue mans reach.
So dreadful seemed then to me the mighty Phœbus speach.
Than thus he spake and thus at length, into myne cares he rusht
Whyle sprawling stil the Prophet lay before the doores in dust.
The Thebane City neuer shal be free frō plagues (quoth he,)
Except from thense the Kingkiller forthwith expulsed bee:
Vnto Apollo knowen he was, or euer he was borne.
Do this: or else no hope of health, to this, the gods haue sworn.
And as for thee, thou shalt not long in quiet state indure,
But with thy self wage war thou shalt & war thou shalt procure
Vnto thy children deare: & crepe agayn thou shalt into thy mothers wombe.

Oed.
Loke what the Gods commaunded haue accomplished shalbe.
Nor neuer shal these eyes of myne abyde the day to see,
A King of kingdome spoyld by force, by guyle or craft supprest.
A kinge to kinges the prop ought be, and chiefest cause of iest:
No man regardes his death at all whom liuing he doth feare,

Cr.
Great cause makes mee my Princes death conceale and closly beare

Oed.
Ought any cause of feare or griefe, thy duty for to let?

Cre.
The threatning of the prophesyes, do stil my breast beset.

Oe.
Let vs (sith God cōmaunds) forthwith some good attonement make
If any way, or meanes there be their wrathful rage to slake.
Thou God that sits on seate on high, and al the world dost guide,
And thou by whose commaundement the Starres in Skies do glide:
Thou, thou that onely ruler art of Seas, of Floods, and all.
On thee and on thy Godhead great, for these requestes I call.
Who so hath slayne king Laius, oh Ioue I do thee pray.
Let thousand ils vpon him fall, before his dying day.
Let him no health ne comfort haue, but al to crusht with cares,
Consume his wretched yeares in griefe, & though that death him spares
A whyle. Yet mischiefes all, at length vppon him light.
With all the euils vnder Sun, that vgly monster smight.
In exile let him liue a Slaue, the rated course of life.
In shame, in care, in penury in daunger and in strife.
Let no man on him pity take, let all men him reuyle.
Let him his Mothers sacred Bed incestuously defyle.
Lim him his father kill. And yet let him do mischiefes more.
What thing more haynous can I wish then that I wisht before?
Let him do all those illes I say, that I haue shund and past.
All those and more (if more may be) oh God vpon him cast.
Let him no hope of pardon haue: but sue and all in vayne.
All hellish Furies on him light, for to encrease his payne.
O Ioue powre downe thy fury greate, thy thūdring thumpes out throw
Let Boreas boysterous blastes and stormy plagues vpon him blow
Consume him quight. Fret out his guttes wt pockes and botches vile
Let all diseases on him light that wretched bodyes fyle.
Let these and more (if more may be) vppon that Monster fall.
Let Harpies pawes and greedy paunche deuoure his members all.
Let no man him regard: or seeke his limmes in graue to lay:
But let him dye ten thousand deathes before his dying day.
By this my Kingdome I do sweare, and Kingdome that I left
By al my Countrey Gods that bene in Temples closely kept,
I sweare, I bow, I do protest, and thereto witnes take:
The Starres, the Seas, the Earth and all that ere thy hand did make.
Except that I my selfe forth with this bloudy monster find,
To wreake the wrath of God some way with solempne oth I bynde.
And so my father, Polybius his happy dayes outlyue.
And so my mother Merope, no mariage new contriue:
As he shall dye that did this deede, and none shal him excuse.
Whoso he be here I protest for that he shortly rues:
But where this wicked deede was don Creon now tell me playne:
Both by what meanes? & where: and how King Laius was slayne.

Creon.
Passing through Castalia woods & mountayns heept with snoe
Where groues and scrubs, and bushes thicke & brambles sharp do groe.
A threepathd crooked way there is that diuersly doth goe.
One vnto Bacchus citty bends that Phoce doth hight,
The other to Olenius, forth stretcheth out aright:
The third that reacheth through the vales and by the riuers lyes
Tends downe vnto the Bancks wherby Eleia water plyes
There vnawares (O piteous chaunce) a troup of theues entraps
The noble prince, and murders him hence spring these great mishaps
which heape you realms with hideous woes and plagues on euery side,
By iust decree of heauenly powers which can no murder bide.
But see Tiresias where he coms with old and trembling pace.
I thincke Apolloes heauenly might haue brought him to this place.
See where he comes: and Manto too, his steps directing stayes
Tis he who for your grace (O king) and for your countrie prayes

THE SECOND SCENE.

OEDIPVS. TYRESIAS. MANTO.
[Oed.]
Come holy priest (to Phœbus next) these doubtfull aunswers lose:
And whom that destnies will to dye, Straightwayes to me disclose.

TY.
Renowned Prince, though still I stand in silence dūme dismayde:
And though by inwarde feare of mynde my lingring tonge is stayde:
Yet pardon me (O noble Prince,) and geue me leaue a while.
From lack of sight springs Ignoraunce which powre hath to exile
Unspotted Truth frō doubtfull breasts. This thing ful well you knoe,
But whither God and Countrey calles, with willing minde I goe.
Let deadly fatall destenies, be boulted out at length.
O King if I of greener yeares had now my wonted strength:
This matter soone discust should be, and I would take in hande,
My selfe in presence of the Gods, in temple for to stande.
A mighty Oxe all coulourd white, vp on the Aulters reare,
Which neuer yet on weried necke, the croked yoake did beare.
And Manto thou, O daughter mine, mine onely prop and stay:
The secret hidden misteries, and sacred signes out say.

MA.
The beast before the Aulter stands.

TY.
To Gods a prayer make,
And on the holy Aulters eke, some pleasaunt odors shake.

MA.
Tis done. And all the fiers fierce, with incence bright doe flame.

TY.
O Manto now what signes seest thou? how doe thy matters frame?
What? doth the fire, the Sacrifice encompas rounde about?

MA.
Not so. But first it mounts aloft, and streight it flasheth out.

TY.
Well Yet, how doth the sacred flame all shining bright and cleare
It selfe on high vnto the Skies, with sparkeling flakes vpreare?
Or doeh it oft rebounding backe, it selfe, from Skyes vnfould?
Or all with rumbling roring noyse, about the place ist rould?
Or dim'd with smoke, ist tost from place, to place, now heere, now theare?

MA.
Not one. But diuerse, colours mixt the flame doth with it beare.
Much like vnto the Rainbow, which with sundry paynted hues
Foreshewes vnto the husbandmen the weather that ensues.
What colour it wants, or what it hath, to me is like vncertayne,
Now is it black, now blue, now red, and euen now agayne
Quight out it is. Yet once agayn, all fierce it flashing flames:
But lo, yet mischiefs more then this, vnluckely it frames.
The fier quight a sunder parts, and flame with flame doth fight.
O father I abhorre to see, this vgly lothsome sight.
The Wyne to blud is turned quight, and all the Prynces hed,
With thicke black clouds encōpast is, with smoke all ouerspred.
O father tell what this portends?

TY.
What should I tell alas?
My mynde for feare astonied stands, and trembling cold doth pas
Through all my lims. What shall I say? or where shall I begin?
O cruell Plagues, O wrekfull Gods, O vengeaūce due for sin.
Some dyre and blouddy deed (Alas) these hydeous signes declare.
Whats that the Gods would haue reuealde, and yet doe bid beware
To vtter it? By certaine signes their wrath is oft descride:
Such signes appeere, and yet they seeme their fury great to hide.
They are ashamde: I wot nere what. Come hither, quickly bring
Some salt with thee, and it vpon the sacrifice goe fling.
What? are their lookes pleasant and milde, and doe they gently bide
The touching of thy sacred hands?

MA.
What may this thing betide?
The Bull (a wonder great to see) his head on hie he lifts
And turned still vnto the East, from thence it alway shifts,
Still lothing as hee seemes to me, of heauen to see the light,
Oft scouling with his blearing eyes with gastely ruthfull sight.

TY.
But doth one blow thē driue to groūd, or more thē one they haue?

MA.
The Heifer as it seemde, enflamd with courage stoute and braue
Upon the mortall Blade did rush, and there hirselfe destries:
When out the bloud it foming spoutes, and mounts vnto the Skies.
The brawny Bull twise stroke or thrise, with groueling groning tyres,
And toyling vp and down he moyles. And still to liue desires.
And yet at length with much ado, his brutish breath expiers.

TY.
What? doth the wounde wide open gape, or is it closed vp?
Or doth the deepnes of the hole, the bloud in soking sup?

MA.
Out of the wounded Heifers breast Black bluish waters rush.
As for the Bull, but litle bloud, out of his wounds doth gush.
It back rebounds, and from his Mouth & Eyes by streames doth flow.
But what these dreadfull signes portend the Gods aloane doe know.

TY.
By this vnhappy Sacrifice, great feares within mee rise.
But tell mee now: In the inner parts, what secret hidden lies?

MA.
O Father what meanes this (alas) that more then wonted guise
The Inwards stir? and shake my hands, and heauing oft arise,
The bloud by streames out of the vaynes, full straungly skips aloft.
The heart all schorcht and hidden lies, and strykes are seene full oft,
Of Colour very wan and pale: The chiefest parts doe want.
The Lyuer blackish gall out spurts, and somwhat rysing pants.
And that, that myschiefes great, to kingdoms doth foreshow:
Two heads are seene, and yet both heads one skin doth ouergrow
And ouerheales them quight, But yet the skin, it is so thin
That easely one may discerne what lieth hid therein.
And that which horror doth encrease, a man may plainly see
How both the heart, the Lights, and Lungs, and all disturbed bee.
The fearefull noyse and sound you heere is not of beasts, but fier
That roaring on the Alters makes, presaging wrekefull yre
Of angry Gods who doe foretell some purpose that they haue,
For to reuenge some foule misdeede that vengeance iust doth craue.
No part his proper place obserues, nor keepes his order due:
But altogether quight disguisde, with an vnwonted hue.
Mishapen, out of frame, transformde, displaced quight (alas)
What thing is that the Gods entend ere long to bring to pas?

OEd.
Why than declare from whēce, and why these deadly signes arise,
With courage stout I will it heare, it shall not once aggrise
My valiaunt mynd. Extremest ils haue power to banish feare.

TY.
You will wishe that vnhard which you so much desyre to heare.

OEd.
Yet sence the Gods wil haue him known tell me (I say) his name
That siue your King.

TY.
Nor wing, nor womb of Bird or beast ye same
Can tell (O king) new sacrifice, new meanes we must inuent.
From dredfull darke infernall damps some Fury must be sent
These mischiefes great for to vnfolde. Or els King Ditis hee,
That Empyre keepes on griesly Ghosts, entreated needes must bee
These things forthwith for to disclose. Tell who shall haue the charge,
A King thou art, than maist not thou go through those kingdoms large.

OEd.
Than noble Creon thou shalt goe, this payne is fitst for thee:
Who must this crown and kingdome great enioy after mee.

THE THIRDE ACTE.

THE FIRST SCENE.

Oedipus. Creon.
Cre.
Alas you byd me that disclose which feare doth byd me hyde.

Oed.
If that the Thebane Citties great, by doleful plagues destryde.
Perce not thy hast: yet oughtest thou, these Kingdomes for to rue,
Which were vnto thy brothers house, of auncient title due.

Cre.
You wish ye thing to know, which you wil wish vnknown at length.

Oed.
Why so? a simple remedy of litle force and strength
Is ignoraunce of our estate when daungers vs betyde.
But what? wilt thou so great a good for common safety hide?

Cre.
Irkesome Medcines and perilous in sicknes I abhorre:

Oed.
And I likewyse at Subiects hands disdayne to take a dorre,
Speake out with speed, or else by proofe of torment thou shalt find
How daungerous a case it is to gawle a Princes mynd.

Cre.
Kinges often vse to wish vntolde, which they bad tel before.

Oed.
Go to, dispatch and cease in time to vexe me any more.
Except that thou forthwith to me this veinous deede disclose:
The gods I do protest, to death for al thou onely goes.

Cre.
O pardon me most noble king. O let me hold my pes,
Of al the gracis Princes graunt, what fauour may be lesse?

Oed.
As though ye silence hurts not more both king and countries weale:
Then spech oft tymes: which subiects thoughts to Prīces doth reueale?
Dispatch at once, stir me no more thou knowst my guise of olde.

CRE.
Silence denied, what priuiledge may silly Subiect holde?

OED.
A traytor he is, who silēce keepes, whē king cōmaunds to speake.

CRE.
Then pardon my constrayned speach, sith silence for to breake
You me compell. A dolefull tale (O king) my tongue must tell,
And which I feare your maiesty will not interpret well.

OED.
Was euer man rebukt for that, that he was bid to say?

CRE.
Well than since needes I must: I am contented to obay.
A wood there is from City farre, enhaunst with stately trees:
Where many a plant, and herbe doth grow, which Phœbus neuer sees:
With euerduring bushes greene, the Cypresse there doth ryse,
And puts his olde and loffty head within the cloudy Skyes.
The auncient Time-eaten Oke with crooked bended lims.
The Teal tree fine: The Alder which in Neptunes kingdoms swims,
The Bayes with bitter beries eke the Elmes deere friends to Uynes,
And many a noble tree besides, as Mirtels, Firres, and Pynes.
Amidst them all, one tree there is with large out stretched armes,
Whose roring sound, & craking noyse the lesser woods Icharmes,
And ouershades them all: a Tree of monstrous huge estate,
Beset with fearefull woods: there is that dyre, and dreadfull gate,
That leades to lothsome Lymbo Lake, and pyts that euer flowe.
Where choked miry mud doth streame with slimy course full slowe.
Here when the priest was entred in, with comely aged pace,
He stayed not: No neede there was, for night was still in place.
Than all the ground wyde open gapes, & smouthering vapours ryse,
And fyre and smoke, & styfling stink, mounts vp vnto the Shyes.
The Priest with wayling werde iclad, his fatall red out tooke:
And entring to, in blacke Aray, full often times it shooke.
With heauy cheere and dolful pace: his hoary haire was twynde
With bowes of mortall Ewe. A tree wherewith the mourners winde,
Theyr mourning heads, & Garlands make. In this guise all arayde,
The sacred Priest doth enter in, with trembling lims dismayde:
Than in the Sheepe, and Oxen blacke, by backwarde course are drawn.
And odoures sweete, & Frankencence, on flaming fyres are thrown.
The beasts on burning Altars cast, do quake with schorched lims:
And bloudy streames with fyre mixt, about the Aultars swims.
Than on the darke infernall Gods, and him that rules them all:
With deadly shriking voyce aloude, the Prophet gins to call.
And rouls the Magick verse in mouth, and hidden Artes doth proue:
Which eyther power haue to appease or els the Gods to moue.
Than bloudy streaming Lycours black, with broyling heate doe boyle:
And all the Beasts consume and burn. The Prophet than to toyle
Begins. And mixed wyne and Mylke vpon the Aultars throwes.
And all the Dongeon darke, and wyde with streaming bloud it flowes.
Than put with thundring voyce agayne the Prophet calles and cryes.
And straight as much wt mumbling mouth he champs in secret wyse
The trees do turne. The Riuers stād. The ground with roring shakes.
And all the world as seemes to mee, with fearefull trembling quakes.
I am heard, I am heard, than out aloude the Priest began to cry:
Whan all the dampned, soules by heapes abrode outrushing fly.
Then woods with rumbling noyse, doe oft resounding make.
And Heauen, and Earth together goe. And bowes and trees do crake.
And Thūders roore. And Lightnings flash. And waues aloft doe fly.
And ground retyres: and Dogs doe bawl: and Beastes are heard to cry.
And whyther long of Acheron, that lothsom Flud that flowes
All stinking streames: or of the earth, that out her Bowels throwes,
Free place to Sprights to geue: or of that fierce infernall Hound,
That at such times doth bustling make wt chayns, & railing sound.
The Earth as wide it open gapes. And I did see on ground,
The Gods with colour pale and wan, that those dark kingdoms keepe.
And very night I saw in deede, and thousand shapes to creepe,
From out those filthy stinking Lakes, and lothsom pits of Hell.
Where all the euils vnder Son, in darksom shades doe dwell.
So quaking all for feare I stoode with minde right sore apalde,
Whilst on those Gods wt trembling mouth the Priest full often calde.
Who all at once, out of theyr dens did skip with griesly Face.
And Monsters grim, and stinging Snakes seemd wander in that place.
And all the fowlest Feendes of Hell, and Furies all were theare.
And all trāsformed Ghosts & sprights, that euer Hell did beare.
With Cares, and all Diseases vyle, that mortall mynds doe crush,
All those, and more I sawe out of those Dongeons deepe to rush.
And Age I sawe, with riueled Face, and Neede, & Feare, and Death,
And Fyre, and flames, & thousand ills out fro those Pits to breath.
Then I was gon: and quight amazd. The wenche in worser case.
And yet of olde, acquaynted with her Fathers Artes she was.
The Priest himselfe vnmooued stoode, and boldly cited owt:
Whole Armies of king Ditis men, who clustring in a Rowt:
All flittring thin like Cloudes, disperst abrode in Ayre doe fly.
And bearing sundry shapes and formes doe scud aboue in Sky,
A thousand woods I thinke haue not so many leaues on trees.
Ten thousand medowes fresh haue not so many flowers for bees.
Ten hundred thousand riuers not so many Foule can show:
Nor all the drops and streams, and gulphes that in the Seas do flow,
If that they might be wayed, can sure so great a number make
As could those shapes and formes that flew from out of Limbo lake.
Both Tantalus and Zetus too, and pale Amphions Ghost:
And Agaue, and after her ten thousand Sprightes do post.
Than Pentheus, and more and more, in like estate ensue:
Til out at length comes Laius with foule and grisly hue:
Uncomly drest in wretched plight with fylth all ouergrowne:
All perst with wounds, (I loth to speake) with bloud quight ouerflown
A Miser ryght as seemd to me, and most of Misers all:
Thus in this case, at length he spake, and thus began to call.
O Cadmus cruel Citty vyle, that stil delightste in bloud,
O Cadmus thou, which kinsmens death, accountst as chiefest good.
Teare out the bloudy Bowels of your Children, learne of me,
Do that, and rather more, then you would byde the day to see
Like ills as late on mee are light. Loe mothers loue (alas)
Hath causd the greatest misery that ere in Theba was.
The Countrey with the wrath of Gods at this tyme is not tost.
Nor yearth nor ayre infect is not the cause that all bene lost.
No No. A bloudy King is cause of all these mischiefes great:
A bloudy wretch: A wretched child that sits in Fethers Seate:
And Mothers bed defyles (O wretch) and entreth in agayne,
In places whence he came from once and doubleth so her payne,
Whilst that hee fils the haples wombe wher in himselfe did lie
With graceles seede and causeth her twise childbirthes pangues to try:
Unhappy Sonne, but Father worse and most vnhappy hee,
By whom the lawes of sacred shame so sore confounded bee.
For that that very bestes (almost) do all abherre to do,
Euen of his mothers body he hath brothers gotten two.
O mischiefe great: O dredful deede, then Sphinx, O mōster more:
Example vnto ages all of Gods foretold before.
But I thee, thee, that Scepter holdst, thy Father wil pursue,
And wreacke my selfe on thee and thyne with plagues & vengeance due.
All restles rage of spite and paine I will vppon thee blow,
And all the furies foule of hell vppon thee I will throw.
I wil subuert thy Houses cleane, for this thy lothsome lust:
I wil do this thou wretch: And thee, and thyne consume to dust.
Wherfore dispatch at once (I say) into exile driue your King.
That ground yt first of all he leaues, with fresh grene grasse shall spring,
And sweete, and pleasaunt Ayre, and healthfull blasts shall ryse,
And all the euills vnder Sun, that mortall men surprise:
The Pocks, the Piles, the Botch, the blaine, & death with him shall fly,
And with him mischiefs all shall passe, and Monsters vnder Sky.
And as for him I know hee would depart with willing mynde:
But I will clog his Feete, and hands, his way he shall not finde.
But groping with his aged staffe, shall passe from place to place.
This shall he doe. And none shall rue vpon his ruthfull case.
Rid you the Monster from the Earth, for Heauen let mee alone.
No sooner sayd, but straight away, his dreadfull Ghost was gone.
And fast by thousands after him, th'other Sprights in hyde:
Than Cold & trembling feare began through all my bones to glyde.

OED.
The thing I alwayes fearde, I see vpon mee now is layde:
But slender props they are (God wot) whereby your Treason is stayde.
Meropa my Mother deare, shall mee from this defend:
Polybius eke shall purge mee quight, from Actions all, that tend
To murder, or to incest vile, they both shall mee excuse,
In such a case no meanes at all of tryall I refuse,
Lay what you can vnto my charge. No fault in mee remayns.
The Thebanes long or I came heere, of Laius death complayns,
My Mother yet alyue, my Father still in like estate.
No, no, this is some doltishe drift, of yon false Prophets pate,
Or else some mighty God aboue, doth beare me no good will,
And seekes by Plagues on mee to wreke, his wrathfull vengeaunce stil.
Ah Sir I am glad at length I smell your drifts and fetches fyne.
I know the whole confederacy your sleights I can vntwyne.
That beastly Priest, that bleareyed wretch beelyes the Gods and mee:
And thee thou Traytour in my place hath promist king to bee.

CRE.
Alas would I my Sister of, her lawfull kingdome spoyle?
Thinke you such treason may haue place in brothers breast to boyle?
Yf that myne Oth could me not keepe content with my degree:
But that contemning meane estate, I would clime aloft to bee.
Yet should ill Fortune mee deter, from such attempts I trowe:
Whose guise it is on Princes heads, huge heapes of Cates to throwe.
I would aduise your grace betimes this charge from you to cast:
Least lingring long all vnawares, you be opprest at last.
Assure your selfe, in baser state, more safer you may liue:
And shun a thousand Cares, & Griefs: which Princes hearts doe riue.

OED.
And dost thou me exhort thou slaue my kingdome for to leaue?
O faythlesse head, O shamelesse heart, yt could such treasons weaue?
Barst thou attempt thou villayne vile this thing, to me to breake?
And fearst thou not in such a cause so boldly for to speake.

CRE.
I would perswade them so (O King) who freely might possesse
Their Realmes such piteous cares I see, do Prynces hearts oppresse:
But as for you of force you must your Fortunes chainge abyde.

OED.
The surest way for them that gape for kingdoms large, & wyde,
Is first things meane, and rest, and peace, and base estate to prayse:
And yet with Tooth and Nayle, to toyle to mount aloft alwayes.
So often times, most restlesse beastes doe chiefly rest commend.

CRE.
Shall not my seruice long suffice my truth for to defend?

OED.
Time is the onely meanes for such, as thou to worke theyr will.

CRE.
It is so syr, but as for mee, of goods I haue my fill.
A great resort. A pleasaunt life: from Princely cares exempt.
All these might (surely) mee disswade from such a foule attempt.
There is no day almost (O King) the whale yeare thorow out,
Where in some royall gyfts are not from countreys round about
Unto mee sent, both Golde, and pearles, and things of greater cost,
Which I let passe, least I should seeme but vainly for to bost.
Besides the life of many a man hath bin preserude by mee.
In such a blisfull state (O King) what can there wanting bee?

(OE.
Good Fortune can no meane obserue, but stil she preaseth higher.)

CRE.
Shall I than guiltlesse die (alas,) my cause and all vntryde?

OED.
Were vnto you at any time my life, my deedes discride?
Did any man defend mee yet? or els my causes pleade?
And guiltlesse yet I am condemn'de to this you doe mee leade,
And mee expresse example giue, which I entend to take.
What measure you doe meat to mee, lyke measure must I make.

CRE.
The minde which causelesse dred appawls, true cause of feare bewraies
That cōsciēce is not guiltles sure, which euery blast dismaies.

OED.
Hee that in midst of perilles deepe, and daūgers hath bene cast,
Doth seeke all meanes to shun like ills as hee hath ouerpast.

CR.
So hatreds ryse.

OE.
Hee that to much doth vse ill will to feare,
Unskilfull is: and knowes not how, hee ought him selfe to beare
In kings estate. For feare alone doth Kingdomes chiefly keepe.
Than hee that thus doth arme himselfe from feare all free may sleepe.

CRE.
Who so the cruell tyrant playes, and guiltlesse men doth smight,
Hee dreadeth them that him doe dread, so feare doth chiefly light
On causers chiefe. A iust reuenge for bloudy mindes at last.

OED.
Come take this traytor vile away, In dongeon deepe him fast
Enclose. There for his due deserts, let him abide such payne
And scourge of minde (as meete it is) false traytors to sustayne.

Chorus.

See , see, the myserable State, of Prynces carefull lyfe.
What raging storms? what bloudy broyles? what toyle? what endlesse stryfe
Doe they endure? (O God) what plagues? what griefe do they sustayne?
A Princely lyfe: No. No. (No doubt) an euer duringe payne.
A state ene fit for men on whom Fortune woulde wreke her will.
A place for Cares to couch them in. A doore wyde open still
For griefes and daungers all that ben to enter when they list.
A king these Mates must euer haue, it bootes not to resist.
Whole fluds of priuy pinching feare, great anguishe of the minde:
Apparant plagues, & dayly griefes. These playfayres Princes finde.
And other none, with whom they spend, and passe theyr wretched dayes.
Thus hee that Princes liues, and base Estate together wayes:
Shall finde the one a very hell, a perfect infelicity:
The other eke a heauen right, exempted quight from mysery.
Let OEdipus example bee of this vnto you all,
A Mirrour meete. A Patern playne, of Princes carefull thrall.
Who late in perfect Ioy as seem'de, and euerlasting blis,
Triumphantly his life out led, a Myser now hee is,
And most of wretched Misers all, euen at this present tyme,
With doubtfull waues of feare Itost, subiect to such a Cryme
Whereat my tongue amased stayes, God graunt that at the last,
It fall not out as Creon tolde. Not yet the worst is past,
(I feare.)

THE FOVRTH ACTE.

THE FIRSTE SCENE.

OEdipus. Iocasta.
[Oed.]
My mynde with doubtfull waues of dread, is tossed to and fro,
I wot not what to say (Alas) I am tormented so.
For all the Gods on me doe cry, for paynes and vengeaunce due.
They say that these my guiltlesse hands, king Laius lately slue.
But this my conscience voyde of crime and mynde from mischiefe free:
To Gods vntried, to mee well known denies it so to bee:
Full well I doe remember once, by chaunce I did dispatch,
A man who sought by force with mee presumptuously to match.
His purpose was (a fond attempt) my Chariot for to stay,
This I remember well enough, the strife was in the way.
And he a man well steept in yeares, and I a lusty bloud,
And yet of meere disdayne and pride in vayne hee mee withstood.
But this from Thebes farre was done, a croked three pathd way,
That was the place in which we fought: it hard by Phocis lay.
Deare Wyfe resolue my doubts at once, and mee expresly tell.
How old was Laius the King whan this mischaunce befell?
Was he of fresh and lusty yeares? or stricken well in age
When he was kilde? O ease my thoughts of this tormenting rage.

IOC.
Betwixt an old man an a yong: but nearer to an olde.

OED.
Were there great Bands of men wt him his Person to vpholde?

IOC.
Some by the way deceiued were, and some deterd by payne.
A fewe by toyle and labour long, did with their Prince remayne.

OE.
Were any slayne in his defence?

IO.
Of one report is rife,
Who constant in his princes cause full stoutly lost his lyfe.

OED.
It is enough, I knowe the man that hath this mischiefe done.
The number and the place agrees. The time vntried alone
Remaynes: Than tell what time hee died, and when that he was slaine.

IOC.
Tis ten yeares since: you now reuiue my chiefest cares againe.

THE SECOND SCENE.

Senex. OEdipus.
[Senex.]
The Corinth people all (O King) in Fathers place to rayn
Doe call your Grace: Polybius doth eternall rest obtayn.

OED.
O God what Fortune vyle doth mee oppresse on euery side?
How doe my sorrowes still encrease? Tell how my Father dide.

SEN.
No sicknesse (sir) but very age did of his life him reaue.

OED.
And is hee dead? in deede? not slayne? what ioy may I conceaue?
How may I now triumph? the Gods to witnesse I doe call,
To whom are known my hidden thoughts and secret workings al:
Now may I lift to skyes my hands, my hands from mischiefe free.
But yet the chiefest cause of feare remayneth still to mee.

SEN.
Your Fathers kingdom ought al dred out of your mind to driue.

OED.
That I cōfesse. But secret thoughts my trembling heart do riue
With inward doubt of deepe distresse, my Mother I do feare.
This grudge is that continually my heart doth rent and seare.

SEN.
Do you your Mother feare? on your return that onely slayes.

OED.
I feare not her: but from her sight, a godly zeale mee frayes.

S.
What will you her a Wydow leaue?

OE.
Now, now, thou woūdst my heart.
This, this, and onely this (alas,) is cause of all my smart.

SEN.
Tell me (O king) what doubtfull feare? doth presse thy princely brest:
Kings coūcels I can well cōceale that ben with Cares opprest.

OED.
Least as Apollo hath foretolde, I should a Mariage make
With myne owne Mother: only this fowle feare doth make me quake.

SEN.
Such vayne & peuysh feares, at length from out your breast exyle.
Meropa your Mother is not in deede, you do your selfe beguile.

OED.
What vauntage should it be to her adopted Sonnes to haue?

SEN.
A kingdom she shall gayne thereby. Her Husband layde in graue.
The chiefest prop to stay her Realmes from present confusion,
Is children for to haue: and hope of lawfull succession.

OED.
What are the meanes whereby thou dost these secrets vnderstād.

SEN.
My selfe (your grace) an Infant gaue into your fathers hand.

OED.
Didst thou me to my Father geue? Who than gaue me to thee?

SEN.
A Sheparde six; that wonted on Cytheron Hills to bee.

OE.
What made thee in those woods to raūge? what hadst thou there to do?

SEN.
Upon those Hils my Beasts I kept, somtime a Sheepeherde to.

OE.
What nots, what priuy marks hast thou wherby thou dost me kno?

SE.
The holes yt through your feete are borde frō whēce your name did gro.

OE.
Declare forthwith what was his name yt gaue me vnto thee.

SE.
The kings chief Shephard than that was, deliuered you to mee.

OE.
What was his name?

SE.
O king old mens remēbrance soone doth fayle:
Obliuion for the chiefest part, doth hoary heads assayle,
And drowns their former memory of things long out of mynde.

OE.
What? canst thou know ye man by sight?

S.
Perhaps I should him finde,
And know by Face. Things ouerwhelmd by time; and quight opprest.
A small marke oft to mynde reuokes, and fresh renues in brest.

OE.
Sirs bid the Herdmen forth wt driue theyr Beasts to Aulters all.
Away with speede, make hast, the Master Sheepherds to mee call.

SE.
Sith that your destny this doth hyde, and Fortune it detayne
And closely keepe, see it be so, from opening that refrayne.
That long conceald hath hidden lyen, that seeke not to disclose:
Such things outsercht and foūd oftimes agaynst the sercher goes.

OE.
Can any mischiefe greater be? than this that now I feare.

SE.
Aduise you wel remembre fyrst what weight this thing doth beare:
That thus you goe about to search, and sift with Tooth and Nayle,
Obserue the golden meane: beware beare still an equall sayle.
Your Coūtreys wealth (O King) your lyfe, and all vpon this lyes.
Though you stir not, bee sure at length your Fortune you escryes.
A happy state for to disturbe doth nought at all behoue.

OE.
When things be at the worst, of them a man may safely moue.

SE.
Can you haue ought more excellent? than is a Prynces state?
Beware least of your Parents found it you repent to late.

OE.
No (father) no I warrant that: repent not I (I trow.)
I seeke it not to that entent. I haue decreed to know,
The matter at the full. Wherefore I will it now pursue.
Lo Phorbas: where hee trembling coms, with comely aged hue.
To whom of all the kinges flock than, the care and charge was due.
Dost thou his name, his speach his Face, or yet his person know?

SE.
Me thinks I should haue seene his Face, and yet I cannot show
The places where I haue him seene, small time brings such a chainge,
As well acquaynted Faces oft, to vs appeare full strainge.
This looke is neyther throughly known, nor yet vnknown to mee,
I cannot tell: I doubt it much, and yet it may bee hee.
In Laius tyme long since when hee these Kindomes great did keepe:
Wast thou not on Citheron hils chiefe Shepard to his sheepe?

THE THIRDE SCENE.

Phorbas. Senex. OEdipus.
[Phorbas.]
Sometime a charge of sheepe I had, vnworthy though I weer.
And did vpon those bills chiefe rule on other Shepards beare.

SE.
Knowst thou not me.

PH.
I cannot tell.

OE.
Didst thou once geue this man
A Childe. Speake out, why dost thou stay? if so, declare it than.
Why dost thou blush and doubting stand, troth seeketh no delay?

PH.
Things out of minde you call agayne, almost quight worne away.

OE.
Confesse thou slaue, or els I sweare, thou shal constrayned bee

PH.
In deede I doe remembre once, an Infant yong by mee,
Delyuered was vnto this Man: but well I wot in vayne,
I know he could not long endure, nor yet alyue remayne.
Long since he is dead (I know it well) hee liues not at this day.

SE.
No? God forbid, he liues no doubt, and long may liue I pray.

OE.
Why dost thou say the child is dead, that thou this man didst giue?

PH.
With Irons sharp his feete were board, I know he could not liue,
For of the sore a swelling rose, I saw the bloud to gush
From out of both the wounds: and down by powring streames to flush.

SEN.
Now stay (O king) no farther now, you know almost the troth.

OE.
Whose child was it? tell me forth wt.

PH.
I dare not for mine Othe.

OE.
Thine Oth thou slaue? Some fyre here. Ile charme thine Othe and thee,
With fyre & flames: except forthwith thou tell the troth to mee.

PH
O pardon me, though rude. I seeme, I seeke not to withstand
Your graces minde: (most noble king.) My life is in your hand.

OED.
Tell me ye troth, what child, & whose, What was his Mothers name?

P.
Born of your wyfe.

OE.
O gaping earth deuour my body quight:
Or else thou God that ruler art of houses voyde of light,
To Hell my Soule with thunder boltes to Hell my Soule down dryue.
Where griesly Ghosts in darkenesse deepe, and endlesse payne do lyue.
For thee alone, these Plagues doe rage. For thee these mischiefes ryse.
For thee, the Earth lyes desolate. For thee thou wretch the Skies
Infected are. For thee, for thee, and for thy filthy lust,
A hundred thousand guiltlesse men, consumed are to dust.
O people throw: cast heapes of stones vpon this hatefull Hed:
Bath all your swords within my brest: you furies ouershed
My restlesse thoughts, with raging woes: and plungde in seas of pain.
Let mee those horrors still endure, which damned soules sustain.
You citizens of Stately Thebes vex me with torments due.
Let Father, Son, and Wyfe, and all with vengeance me pursue.
Let those that for my sake alone with plagues tormented bee
Throw darts, cast stones, fling fier and flames, and tortures all on mee.
O shame: O slaunder of the World: O hate of Gods aboue.
Confounder O of Nature thou to lawes of sacred loue,
Euen from thy birth an open Foe. Thou didst deserue to dye
As soone as thou wast born. Go, go, vnto the Court thee hye,
There with thy Mother (slaue) triumph reioyce as thou maist do.
Who hast thy house encreased with vnhappy children so.
Make haste with speede, away, some thing thy mischiefs worthy finde.
And on thy selfe wrecke all the spight of thy reuenging minde.

Chorus.

Fortune the guide of humaine lyfe doth al things chaūge at will.
And stirrīg stil, wt restles thoughts our wretched mīds doth fill.
In vayn men striue their stats to kepe whē hideous tēpests rise:
And blustring windes of daungers deepe sets death before their eyis.
Who saith he doth her fauning feele? & chaūgeth not his minde,
When fickle fight of Fortunes wheele doth turne by course of kinde.
These greuous plagues frō priuat house to princely Thrones do flow,
And oft their minds with cares they souse and thick vpon thē strow.
Whole heapes of griefe and dyre debate, a wofull thing to see:
A Princely lyfe to mysers state, conuerted for to bee.
O OEdipus thy fatall fall, thy dreadfull mischiefs ryght.
Thy dolfull state, thy mysery, thy thrise vnhappy plight:
These things shall blase through all ye world: what heart may thē reioyce
At thy distresse? I can no more: my teares doe stop my voyce.
But what is he that yonder stamps? and raging puffs and blowes,
And often shakes his vexed head, some mischiefe great hee knowes.
Good sir your countnaunce doth import some great and fearefull thing,
Tell vs therefore (if that you may) what newes from Court you bring.

THE FIFTE ACTE.

[THE FIRSTE SCENE.]

NVNTIVS.

Chorus.

Mans lyfe wt tumbling fatal course of fortunes wheele is rowld,
To it giue place for it doth run all swiftly vncontrowld.
And Cares & teares are spent in vayn, for it cannot be stayed:
Syth hie decree of heauenly powers perforce must be obayed.
What mankind bydes or does on earth it cōmeth from aboue,
Then wayling grones powrd out in griefe do nought at all behoue.
Our life must haue her pointed course, (alas) what shall I say.
As fates decree, so things do run, no man can make them stay.
For at our byrth to Gods is known our latter dying day.
No Prayer, no Arte, not God himselfe may fatall fates resist.
But fastned all in fixed course, vnchaunged they persist.
Such ende them still ensues as they appointed were to haue,
Than fly all feare of Fortunes chaung, seeke not to lyue a slaue
Enthrald in bondage vyle to feare. For feare doth often bring
Destnies that dreaded ben and mischiefs feard vpon vs fling.
Yea many a man hath come vnto his fatall ende by feare.
Wherefore set peuish feare aside, and worthy courage beare.
And thou that subiect art to death. Regard thy latter day.
Thinke no man blest before his ende. Aduise thee well and stay.
Be sure his lyfe, and death, and all, be quight exempt from mysery:
Ere thou do once presume to say: this man is blest and happy.
But out alas, see where he coms: a wretch withouten Guide,
Bereft of sight. Halfe spoyld of lyfe: without all Pomp, and Pride
(That vnto Kings Estate belongs.)

THE SECOND SCENE.

OEdipus. Chorus, Iocasta.
[Oed.]
Well , well, tis done: more yet? No, no, no mischiefs more remaynes.
My Fathers Rytes performed are. What God on Mysers paynes
That rues within this Cloud hath rolde, and wrapt my wretched Pate.
Ah sir: this is a life alone. This is a happy State.
This is a case ene fit for thee, for thee thou wretch, for thee.
From whose accursed sight the Sun, the Stars and all doe flee.
Yet mischiefs more, who giues to doe? The dreadfull day I haue
Escapt. Thou filthy Paracide: thou vile mischieuous Slaue.
Unto thy right hand nought thou owst, all things performed bee.
O woe is mee that euer I liu'de this lucklesse day to see.
Where am I now? Alas, alas, the light and all doth mee
Abhor: O wretched OEdipus this looke is first for thee.

CHO.
See, see, where Iocasta coms, with fierce and furious moode,
Quight past her selfe. For very rage shee frets and waxeth woode.
Much like to Cadmus daughter mad, who late hir Sonne did kill.
Fayne would she speake her mynde: for feare (alas) she dares not: still
Shee stayes, and yet from out her breast these ills haue quight exilde
All shamefastnes. See how shee lookes, with coūt'naunce fierce & wilde.

IO.
Fayne would I speake, I am afraide. For what should I thee call
My Son? doubt not. Thou art my Son. My Son thou art for all
These mischiefs great: alas, alas I shame my Son to see.
O cruell Son. Where dost thou turn thy Face? Why dost thou flee
From me. From me thy Mother deare? Why dost thou shun my sight?
And leaue me thus in misery, with Cares consumed quight.

OE.
Who troubles me? Let me alone. I thought not to be founde:
Who now restores myne Eyes to mee, Mother? or Mothers sounde?
Our labour all is spent in vayne, now may wee meete no more.
The Seas deuide those meetings vile that wee haue had before.
The gaping earth deuide vs both, th'one from th'other quight.
Still let our feete repugnant bee. So shall I shun the light
That most of all me grieues. So shall I space obtaine to wayle
These bleeding woes on euery side, that doe my thoughtes assayle.

IOC.
The Destenies are in fault. Blame them. Alas, alas, not wee.

OED.
Spare now. Leaue of to speake in vayne, spare now O Mother mee,
By these Reliques of my dismembred body I thee pray.
By myne vnhappy Children pledges left. What shall I say?
By all the Gods I thee beseech. By all that in my name
Is good or bad, let mee alone. Alas you are to blame
To trouble mee. You see what hell my haplesse heart doth payne.
You see that in my Conscience ten thousand horrors raine.

IOC.
O dying heart: O sindrownd soule. Why dost thou faint alas?
Why dost thou seeke and toyle in vayne these ills to ouerpas?
What meane these sighes, & scalding teares? why dost thou death refuse?
Thou mate of all his mischiefs thou, by whose meanes onely rues
The law of nature all: by whom, Ah, Ah, confounded lies,
Both God, and man, and beast, and all that eyther liues or dies.
Die thou, dispatch at once thrust through thy vile incestuous brest:
Thou hast none other meanes (alas) to set thine heart at rest.
Not thou, if God him selfe, if he his flaming fiers should throw
On thee, or mischiefs all by heapes vpon thy body strow
Couldst once for thy deserued ills due paines or vengeaunce pay:
Some meanes therefore to wreak Gods wrath vpon thy selfe assay.
Death, death now best contenteth mee, then seeke a way to dye.
So maist thou yet at length finde end for all thy misery.
O Son lend mee thy hand: sith that thou art a Paracyde.
This labour last of all remaynes, this labour thee doth byde.
Dispatch rid mee thy mother deare from all my deadly woe
It will not be: no prayers auaile. Thy selfe this deede must doe.
Take vp this sword. Goe to, with this thy husbande late was slayne.
Husband? thou term'st him false: hee was thy syer: O deadly payne.
Shal I quight through my brest it driue? or through my throte it thrust?
Canst thou not choose thy wound? away: die, die, (alas) thou must.
This hateful womb then woūd (O wretch) this, this wt thine own hand
Strike, strike it hard: (O spare it not) sith both a husband, and
(The same a Son it bare.)

CHOR.
Alas, alas, shee is slaine, she is slayne, dispatched with a push:
Who euer sawe the like to this: see how the bloud doth gush.
O heauy doulfull case: who can this dyrefull sight enduer
Which for the hideousnesse thereof might teares of stones procuer.

OED.
Thou God, thou teller out of Fates. On thee, on thee, I call,
My Father onely I did owe, vnto the Destnies all.
Now twise a Paracide, and worse than I did feare to bee:
My Mother I haue slayne. (Alas) the fault is all in mee.
O OEdipus accursed wretch, lament thine owne Calamity,
Lament thy state, thy griefe lament, thou Caitife borne to misery.
Where wilt thou now become (alas?) thy Face where wilt thou hyde:
O myserable Slaue, canst thou such shamefull tormentes byde?
Canst thou which hast thy Parents slain? Canst thou prolong thy life?
Wilt thou not dye? deseruing Death: thou cause of all the griefe,
And Plagues, and dreadfull mischiefs all that Thebane City prease.
Why dost thou seeke by longer life, thy sorrowes to encrease?
Why dost thou toyle and labour thus in vayne? It will not bee.
Both God, and man: and beast, and all abhorre thy Face to see.
O Earth why gapst thou not for me? why doe you not vnfolde
You gates of hell mee to receaue? why doe you hence withholde?
The fierce Infernall Feends from me, from me so wretched wight?
Why breake not all the Furyes lose this hatefull head to smight
With Plagues? which them deserued hath (alas) I am left alone,
Both light, and sight, and comfort all from mee (O wretch) is gone.
O cursed head: O wicked wight, whom all men deadly hate.
O Beast, what meanst thou still to liue in this vnhappy state?
The Skies doe blush and are ashamd, at these thy mischiefes great
The Earth laments, ye Heauens weepe, the Seas for rage doe freat.
And blustring rise, and stormes doe stir, and all thou wretch for thee.
By whose incest, and bloudy deedes all things disturbed bee.
Quight out of course, displaced quight, O cursed fatall day.
O mischiefes great, O dreadfull times, O wretch, away, away.
Exile thy selfe from all mens sight, thy life halfe spent in misery,
Goe end consume it now outright in thrise as great calamity.
O lying Phœbe thine Oracles my sin, and shame surmount:
My Mothers death amongst my deedes, thou neuer didst recount.
A meete Exploict for me that am to Nature deadly Foe.
With trembling fearefull pace goe forth, thou wretched monster goe,
Grope out thy wayes on knees in darke thou miserable Slaue.
So maist thou yet in tract of time due paynes, and vengeaunce haue,
For thy mischeuous lyfe. Thus, thus, the Gods themselues decree.
Thus, thus, thy Fates: thus, thus, the skyes appoint it for to bee.
Then headlong hence, with a mischiefe hence, thou caitife vyle away.
Away, away, thou monstrous Beast. Goe, Run. Stand, stay,
Least on thy Mother thou doe fall.

All you that wearyed bodies haue, with sickenesse ouerprest.
Loe, now I fly: I fly away, the cause of your vnrest.
Lift vp your heads: a better state of Ayre shall strayght ensewe
Whan I am gone: for whom alone, these dreadfull myschiefs grewe.
And you that now, halfe dead yet liue in wretched misers case.
Help those whō present torments presse forth, hye you on apace.
For loe, with me I cary hence, all mischiefes vnder Skyes.
All cruell Fates, Diseases all that for my sake did ryse,
With mee they goe: with me both griefe, Plague, Pocks, Botch, & all
The ills that eyther now you presse, or euer after shall.
With me they goe, with me: these Mates bin meetst of all for mee.
Who am the most vnhappiest wretch that euer Sun did see.