University of Virginia Library

The Tutour.

The Tutour and Orestes are brought in upon the way to Argos, newly coming in by break of day; and the old man tels him all the places as he comes by, & where he is: For it is presum'd, that he being about ten years old at his departure had not before the wisdome to take notice of them. The entrance is pert and lively, being quickned by frequent pointing at sights, and alteration of posture: it is also stately, opening into various Scenes, and being beautified with a prospect upon objects, full both of delight and magnificence. Besides that delicate passion which is insinuated into us, to see an Exile entring his Countrey, which he was forc'd to leave very young; and to heare those places repeated as he passes along, whose bare names cannot but raise in him a Naturall endearment.

Son of great Agamemnon, he who late
Led the Greek host against the Trojan State;
Now may thine eyes their wished objects read:
This is old Argos you still long'd to tread.
Yon grove is horn-mad Inachi's abode:
And this, Orestes, the wolf-slaying god
Wolf-Court hath nam'd: But on the left her fanes
The proud Heræum's spiring tops advance:
Mycens the wealthy here her Treasures show's,

They make a stand at the door of the royal hall, and debate.

And this the infamous Pelopeian house,
Whence I thee, as thy Father fresh was slain,
From thy dear sisters sweet embraces ta'ne
Rescu'd and sav'd, and to this bignesse bred
Avenger of thy Royall Fathers head.
Now then, Orestes, and thou dearest friend
Pylade, dispatch we that that we intend.
For birds with chirping Mattins call from bed
The woken Suns already rising head,
And sable night of all her starrs is rid:
Wherefore e're any out of doores shall stirre,
Conferre your thoughts. No time now to demur,
But forward action ripen'd is to height.

Orest.
Dearest of my attendants, now I see't
How kind thou art to us it plain appears,
For as some mettel'd steed, though struck in years,
In hottest service nought of heart lets go,
But stands with ear erect; you even so
Both spur us on, and march your self i'th front:
Il'e tell you my resolve, attend you on't:
And if ought unadvis'd escape, amend.
When I the Pythian curtain did attend
Consulting how my Fathers murder, I
On th'executioners might satisfie,
Phœbus this answer gave, mark the reply:
Without or buckler or an armies guard
By stealth procure the murders just reward,
Since then the holy voice directs us thus,
As first occasion serv's, get in this house,
And mark what e're is done, & when you know,
Make us acquainted how all actions go:
For they'll ne're spie nor once suspect your shew,
With age disguis'd, long absence, and this hiew:
And make your tale this wise; A Forreiner
Of Phoce, sent by noble Phanot there,
(For he and they in nearest league combine)
You come to tell (thereto a deep oath joyn)
How that Orestes came t'untimely end
As in the Pythian matches they contend,
Struck from the hurrying coach: This story passe.
Mean while my Fathers tombe in the first place
(As was appointed then) with locks new shorn,
And hallowed liquours we forthwith adorn:
Then we return, and carrying in our hands
The pot which midst the thicket you know stands
To hide the tale, the sweet news you have se'd
Wee'll bring them word of, how that I am dead;
My body in the funerall pile calcin'd,
To the few ashes in this urn confin'd:
For what great harm if but reported slain,
In truth I live, and great renown obtain.
I'me of the mind no words that gain are nought:
Thus have I oft seen Sages carry'd out
I th'empty coffin of a false report,
Yet safe come home and double honour'd for 't;
So trust I from this fame alive to rise,
Like a bright star upon my enemies.
O Countrey soil and Greeces guardian powers,
Send me a blessed journey to these Towers;
And you my Fathers Hall, for you I come
To expiate you, led by heav'nly doom:
Nor send me with disgrace out of these ports,
But Lord of wealth, but Founder of great Courts.
Well, I have done: but you, grave Sir, beware
To what our Counsel charg'd upon your care:
And we away, 'Tis time, for alway's this
Grand Over-seer of all actions is.

El.
Ay me, unhappy me!

Tut.
Methinks within door, child, I seemd to heare
One of the maidens keep a groaning there.

Or.
'Tis poore Electra, is't not, prithee fain
I'ld stay a while, and heare the plaint again.

Tut,
By no means, nought before Phœbus advice
Assay to do: Thence take our Action rise.
Go, poure your offerings on your Fathers tombe,
For Triumph hence, and might for Service come:

Orestes & Pylades (a mute companion of Orestes) go away from before the gate, to the tombe of Agamemnon, and the Tutour goes away, but parts from them.

El.

Electra newly up, and wayling walks out to the gate.

Sacred light, earth-bounding aire,
Nurses privy to my care,
You my Dirges witnesse best,
You how I ply my bruised brest,
When the gloomy Shade, is ceast;
But my Night grones ring aloof,
In the sad Courts wicked roof,
While I my poor Father moan,
Whom in Barbarous Region
Bloudy Mars had let alone,
But my Mother and her Mate
Egist, as strong Swains lie at
A sturdy Oak to fell down flat,
His head with bloudy Pol-ax cleave:
Nor any but I at this grieve
That thou, Father, thus shouldst come
To a sad unworthy doom.
But moan I will and cry,
While I the glittering stars espy,
While I the day discover
My plaint I'le nere give over,
But as a robd Nightingall
Will my sorrows tune, and all
Shall heare my moan before this gate;
O Pluto's and Proserpines state!
O Mercury and curse that sure is!
O stern god-begotten Fury's!
You Crowners of the murdred, heare
You Watchers of th'Adulterer!
Come ye, help ye, venge ye all
Our Fathers fall:
And my brother home me call.
My self no longer can weigh down
My overbearing moan.

Quir.
Child, child Electra, of a mother
Unlucky'st of all other
Why alwayes thus dripping away
In tears that can find no allay,
For Agamemnon long since slain
By the ungodly wily Quain,
And betrayd by wicked train.
O that he who did this contrive
(If I may say't) may he nere thrive!

El.
Issues of noble parentage,
You come my sorrow to asswage,
I see and know it, nor deceive
You me, yet never by your leave
Will I surcease with sobbing cries
To mourn my Fathers obsequies:
Wherefore sweet Damsels ever kind,
Let me this favour from you find,
Let me alone,
Alwayes, alack, alack to groan.

Quir.
Why from deaths Catholick Meere you'l never
Though most you moan, deliver
Your Father back: or cry, or pray,
You onely cast your self away:
While you improve and give more weight
To sorrows load, which else were light;
Nor can release come by't
From the sad pressure of your wo:
Why long you then your self t'undo.

The Lady's dwelling hard by, come to her that they may comfort her.

El.
Foolish they who in silence sheath
Their parents brought to wretched death.
But me the dolefull one contents
Which Itys still, Itys laments:
Afflicted bird, Joves Messenger,
Sent for the Summers Harbinger.
But, O distressed Niobe!
I thee adore my Deity,
Which weepest still,
From rocky tombe a teary rill.

Quir,
You are not, Madam, th'onely shee
VVho in this grief plead property,
VVhy you so loud 'bove them within
I'th same degree of bloud akin
As Chrysotheame and Iphianasse both,
And he who griev's in hidden growth?

El.
Happy whom nor yet long hence
Fam'd Mycens land shall bear, brave Prince;
Orestes sent by Joves decree;
Whom I unweary'd wait to see;
Childlesse, piteous, husbandlesse,
Pining away with wretchednesse,
Wasting in teares, nor can be found
What may give my sorrows bound,
While he forgets both what's him done,
And what him taught, false rumours runne:
Fain would he e're,
Yet though he'ld fain do's not appear.

Qu.
Madam chear up, come chear,
In heaven great Jove resides
Who all things sees and guides.
To whom excessive passions leaving
Nor senselesse be, nor overgrieving,
Time is a gentle god, nor yet
Doe's Agamemnons youth forget
To come unto his native land
Though now in Crisa's fertile strand.
Nor who the world controlls below,
Will murther see unpunish't go.

El.
But I mean while sans hope perceive
My tender Age poor me to leave,
Nor can I longer stay
Which without Parents fade away:
Nor have a Friend my part to take,
But Pilgrim-like whom all forsake;
At home in these poor cloths must spread,
My Fathers empty Bord and Bed.

Qui.
Wretched coming, to remember!
Wretched blow giv'n in the chamber!
Where with the broad steel-faced Cleaver
The Royall Temples they dissever.
Treason was Privy-counsellour,
Lust was the Executioner.
Dreadfull they a dreadfull sight
Wrought, were it god or mortall wight,
That acted it.

El.
O Day, Curse of my Kalender!
O night! O Suppers horrid Chear!
Cracking my loaded Heart.
When unworthy Fate did part
By base Conspirators my Father
Who took, who stroy'd my life together.
With whom the great God ruling heav'n
In vengeance over weight be ev'n.
Nor may they e're enjoy their state,
Purchas'd at Treasons rate.

Qui.
Hush, pray not too loud, for know you
What harm storming thus may do you?
Endangering your present fortune,
Your own destruction you importune:
And much of needlesse ill will gain
While still you stubbornely complain,
To raise strife: forbear; 'Tis Art,
Oppose not the prevayling part,
But yoke your heart.

El.
I am provok'd: I see it, and
My impatience understand;
But at this fact to grieve
I'll not cease, till cease to live.
For who would speak well of me, should I?
VVho that or Honour know's or duty?
Comforters leave, leave me alone
For this grief must no measure own.
Ne're will I from my labours cease,
But still my tears increase.

Qui.
'Tis meere good will all that I presse,
Like to some tender Mother;
Breed not griefs one of another.

El.
Tell me what bounds my woes confine,
I'st fit the Dead in scorn t'enshrine?
VVhat man doth nature bring up so?
May I ne're in their favour grow.
Nor if I match, some worthy Lord
To live demure will I afford;
But my sad devotions pay
At my Fathers grave will lay.
For if the dead and rotten
Like earth and nought forgotten
Must lie along,
And they the wrong
Not rue, who did the same,
Farewell Vertue, Farewel shame,
And all the gods reputed name.

Qui.

One of the Ladies coming after the rest.

Brought, Madam, both for yours and my own sake
Hither Im'e with all this eare betake:
And if I prove other then right to say
VVe straight submit our wills, yours be the day.

El.

Quir.
Tel's one thing, Madam, is Egist abroad,
Or here, while you your passion thus unload?

El.
Abroad you may be sure: were he in town,
I durst not peep: he's now to th'countrey gone.

Quir.
Nay, if't be so I dare somewhat more free
Own your accesse, and talk more ventrously.

El.
He is from home, your mind you need not smother.

Qu.
Then I'le adventure: VVhat news from your Brother?
Comes he, or stay's he? pray for certain tell's.

El.
He promises to come, but nothing else.

Qu.
Men on great enterprizes move but slow.

El.
I'me sure in saving him I did not so.

Qu.
Fear not, he's one will ne're desert his friend

El.
No: if I should my life were at an end.

Qu.
Not a word more; I espie Chrysotheame,
Your sister of one sire and mothers stemme,
Come out of doors; with gifts in hands whose rites
Are proper to appease deceased sprights.

Chr.
VVhat a complaining, sister, at the gate
Do you make, after your accustom'd rate?
VVill you ne're be advised to refrain
From idle passion, but still give it rein?
VVhy now thus much I by mine own self know
I vex at heart things should be carri'd so:
And were but my good wil with strength protected
They soon should know wc h way I stand affected:
But in a storm I safely strike my sayles,
Nor seem to act, when action nought avayles.
Il'd have you too, Dear Sister, tread this way:
'Tis true, that Justice is not what I say,
But what you do; yet if my Liberty
I'll have, I must with those in power comply.

El.
Sad case that you his child whom you pretend
Slighting your Sire, should to your Mother bend.
For all those wholsome counsels you preferre
Are none of them your own, but taught by her;
Wherefore chuse one o'th two; or mad be stil'd,
Or in your wits but an unnaturall child.
For you that fitly say, wer't in place where
Your detestation of them you'ld declare.
Yet when I seek to right my Fathers shade
Help'st nothing, nay do'st me that would disswade:
Do's not this Cowardise to sorrow adde?
Wherefore or teach me, or else from me learn;
Could I leave off my moan what should I earn?
I live now, poor you'll say; Well, yet content:
And while I vex their hearts, at least this rent
(If ought the Dead can please) the dead present.
But you that hate them, hate them sore in word,
Yet to converse with them you can afford
That murde'rd your dear Sire: Il'd ne're abide it
Though hir'd with all the knacks in which you pride it;
To crouch to their commands. Enjoy you still
A table richly furnish'd, wealth your fill:
Give me but food which nature doth require,
And to your Gallantry I'll ne're aspire.
Nor would you were you but your self, for when
You might be call'd, Daughter to'th best of men,
Your Mothers be, so shall't be to you laid
You your dead Father and your Friends betray'd.

Qui.
Nothing in anger for all loves: 'Tis right
Each of you say's, and each may profit by't.
Would you endure but to be rul'd by her,
And she but learn to be your follower.

Chry.
I am Dear Lady's in a manner us'd
To these term's from her, and had now refus'd
To speak, but that a businesse I discover,
Will make her all her wayling soon give over.

El.
Tells that great businesse, come; and if't outvy
My grief, I'll forthwith with your will comply.

Chry.
Well I'll acquaint you then with what I can:
They mean 'lesse you your puling leave, anon
To turn you thither where no curteous Sun
Bestow's a Visit on the Dungeon.
Where in griefs lonesome Pest-house shut up close
Farre from this Land you may tune out your woes.
Wherefore conform, for now 'tis time to do it,
And blame me not too late, if you shall rue it.

El.
But are you sure 'gainst me this is their doom?

Ch.
Most sure I am when Egist back shal come.

El.
Now therefore would for me he'ld come away!

El.
O wretch, what wicked thing is't you did pray?

El,
That he would come, if it be thus decreed.

Ch.
To do you mischief? Are you mad indeed?

El.
To rid me from among you all far hence.

Ch.
What, of your present life have you no sense?

El.
O mine a heavenly life, most wondrous sweet?

Ch.
At least, it might be, if you'ld be discrees

El.
Teach me not my deceas'd friend to forget.

Ch.
I teach you not, but to power to submit.

El.
You flatter, with my Nature it ne're stood.

Ch.
Yet to fall through rashnesse 'tis not good.

El.
Wee'll fall, if need, t'avenge our Fathers blood.

Ch.
Our Father, he I know with this dispenses.

El.
Such words are slothfull Cowards base pretences.

Ch.
You'l not be rul'd then, nor with me agree?

El.
No truly, ne're may I so senselesse be.

Ch.
I'me hasting thither where my errand lyes.

El.
Whither away? whose is this sacrifice?

Ch.
My Fathers, whom my Mother sends this gift,

El.
What him the odiousest that ever liv'd?

Ch.
Him that she kill'd, your meaning's that I know.

El,
What friend advis'd her? who would counsel so?

Ch.
'Twas some night-apparition as I cast.

El.
Now Fathers holy Angels help at last!

Ch.
Have y' any ground of hopes rais'd from this fright?

El.
I'll tell you if you'l tell's what was the sight.

Ch.
I know it not: onely one little glance.

El.
That little tell's, A word ofttimes may chance
To cast the high down, and the low advauce.

Ch.
There is a speech, that with a second greet,
Your and my Father was seen her to meet
Risen to light: his Royall Staff then rear's,
And plants, which late himself now Egist bear's,
From whose Crown shot forth such a verdant Bough,
All Mycens roosted in its shady Brow.
Thus much I heard one telling, who was there
When she did to the Sun her dream declare:
Farther then this I know not, but that she
Upon that fright this Message sendeth me.
Wherefore I by thy Fathers gods thee pray,
Be rul'd by me, nor cast thy self away.
But thou' rt still lost, if thou shalt disobey.

El.
Hold Sister: none of those things in your hands
Must touch the Tombe, Justice it self withstands,
And Piety; you should our Father carry
Cleansings and offerings from his Adversary.
Wherefore i'th winds or some deep-mined cave
Hide 'em where they may ne're admission have,
Into the presence-chamber of his grave.
But let 'em there be sav'd a goodly prize,
For her own precious self against she dies.
For were she not, the most ungodly she
E're breath'd, these hostile off'rings could not be
From her the Murderesse to him that fell:
Now judge your self, how can the enter'd take wel
These honours at those hands by which he di'd
In vile disgrace, like a plain foe defi'd:
Which arm-string'd him, and to scoure off the gore,
In cleansing rinc'd the lopt head o're and o're.
Are not these rather expiations spent,
To compound for the murders punishment?
It must not be; wherefore go set 'em down,
And crop a lock or two from your own crown,
And from unhappy mine. Alas! poore shifts,
Yet my small stock affords no better gifts.
Present him with this Hair uncomb'd unpouderd,
Present him with this Girdle unimbroyder'd;
And falling on your knees, beg that he would
Be our Assistant, to revenge his bloud,
And that his child Orestes come home safe,
Or's enemies the upper hand may have;
That so with richer hands for time to come
Then now we're able, we may crown his Tombe.
I know, I know he thinks on our conditions,
That thus he sends her these ill boding visions.
Wherefore, sweet sister, underhand bestow
Upon your self and me this favour too,
And him who both of us our being gave,
Dearest of souls, though now laid in the grave.

Qu.
'Tis all religion that she say's, and you,
Lady, if wise, will as she bids you do.

Ch.
I will: For naked truth needs no dispute
To quarrell for 't, but readinesse to do't.
But while I this exploit assay, be sure
You keep my counsel, friends, I you conjure:
For if it chance to reach my mothers ear,
I shall attempt a work will cost me dear.

Qu.

Clyt.
You now it seems are gadding forth agen,
Now Egist is from home, who kept you in,
Lest you abroad your friends should load with lies.
But now he's out o'th way, you me despise.
And many folks you many tales have told,
How I, harsh and outragious cruel, hold
You and yours under, doing you great wrong:
No wrong; I give bad words to a bad tongue.
Now for your Father (that's all you pretend
Alwayes) how he by me came to his end.
By me? I know it well, and will it own,
But Justice took him off, not I alone;
To whom, if wise, your helping hand y' had lent:
For this your Father whom you still lament,
Onely of all the Grecians must proffer
Your sister to the angry gods to offer,
Having in the begetting her not known
My pangs in a hard labour undergone.
Come on now, satisfie me for whose sake
Offer'd he her. The Greeks, you I answer make.
Now, what had they to do my child to kill?
Or to comply with Menelaus will?
Should he slay mine, and look I should sit still?
And had not th'other two, more fitting far
Both of them, to be sacrific'd then her?
Of father born and mother, for whose sake
They did the expedition undertake:
Or did Death long, and had an eager mind,
On mine to banquet, and leave hers behind?
Or did not your base father rather this,
Hate her by me, and Menelaus lov'd his?
Do's not this Sire the fool and vile bewray?
I think he doth, however you say, Nay.
And the dead, could she speak she would consent;
I therefore at what's done do not repent:
And if I seem to you to think amisse,
Do well to load your friends with calumny's.

El.
You'l not say now that I first went about,
To move your heat, and drew this passion out:
But if you'l give me leave, I'le tell you true
Of my dead Father, and my sister too.

Cly.
I give you leave. This modest dialect
Still us'd, our ready audience might expect.

El.
I tell you then. Your self professe you spilt
My Fathers bloud. A word of blackest guilt,
Were it by right or not, yet I'le assert
It was not Right, but Love did you pervert
To that lewd Paramour, with whom y'are nought.
Now ask the Huntresse Dian, for whose fault
She in calm Aulis staid the wind-bound Fleet.
Or I'le reply: for her we cannot meet.
My Father once (as I have heard it talk'd)
Sporting i'th holy Grove, rous'd as he walk'd
A spotted, well-brancht Stag, which having kil'd,
And boasting of't by chance, some words he spild,
At which Latona's daughter took offence,
And stop'd the Greeks, nor let them stir from thence,
Till he his Child gave her Beasts recompence.
Thus she was given, nor could the Army come,
On other terms back, or to Ilium:
So that unwilling, when he could no other,
He offered her, and not to please his brother.
But grant it were (as you auerre) to further
His brother, must he therefore merit murder
At your hands to be executed? By what order?
Take heed lest while you make a new-found Law
You on your felf wo and repentance draw:
For if bloud must with bloud assayled be,
Vou must die first to seal your own decree.
But see if you coyn not a vain excuse,
For if you please, resolve me why you chuse
Your life in fowl debauchments to abuse,
Which with that Murd'rer lie, with whom together
Plotting before, you made away my Father,
And gendrest with him, but us out dost throw,
The honest issue of a pious vow.
Can I commend you here? is't your pretence,
This too is for your child to make amends?
Fowl answer if it be. No law allows
You should t'avenge a child, a foe espouse:
Nor may we our advice present, but still
Incens'd you cry, our Mother we revile.
But I in your deportment to us find,
More of the Mistris harsh, then Mother kind:
Which lead sad dayes, and old acquaintance date
With woes by you occasion'd, and your Mate.
But poor Orestes now in forreign lands,
That life with which he hardly scap't your hands,
Clo'yd with distresse, consumes; whō you complain
I for your executioner maintain.
Which, were I able, be assur'd I wou'd:
And therefore give it out, if you think good,
That I'me ill natur'd, or unbridled scold,
Or to the depth of impudence am bold:
For if these vertuous qualities I shew,
I do not much degenerate from you.

Qui.
I see her mov'd but whether justly so
'Tis not within my Judgements Verge to know.

Clyt.
What Course now can I take with her that thus
Is not asham'd her Mother to abuse?
And that at these years too? seem's she not bent,
For all bold mischiefs a fit instrument?

El.
Assure your self I feel an inward shame,
How e're you think: I am advis'd, and blame
My Carriage fit nor for the time, nor me.
But your curst usage and your deeds they be
Malgre my self me to this passe have wrought
For by lewd company, lewd tricks are taught.

Clyt.
O ye Bold Beast, do I or words of mine
Or my deeds you to talk at large encline?

El.
'Tis you talk so not I: you do the deed,
And Deeds by words are but interpreted.

Clyt.
Now by our Lady Dian, you shall mourn
For your bold Tongue when Egist do's return.

El.
See you're enrag'd for all I had your leave
To speak my Mind, nor will attention give.

Clyt.
I shall not offer then for you in Peace,
Since I consented to your tongues release.

El.
You may, you shall, Offer, nor blame my Noyse,
For hear I'll put a period to my Voice.

Clyt.
You that attend take the fruit-offerings thence,
That I to th'King may make my Orizens,
To ease my soul, my soul of it's oppressing fear
Phœbus great President of Mycens hear
Me softly pray, for enemy's stand by,
Nor may I speak all out while she is nigh.
Lest she with clamours loud and Mind perverse
An idle tale through all the town disperse,
Thus hear thou: thus my praiers conceald prevent:
The apparitions last night did present
In both my dreams, Lycean King, for these
If they be lucky, crown them with successe
On me; if Hostile, on my Enemy's:
Nor if some ill-affected shall contrive
My ruine from this hight, do thou connive:
But in safe Channell glide my peacefull dayes
Holding the royall Halls and royall Mace.
And with the friends I have may I still rest,
Bathing in ease, with my dear pledges blest.
(Bate those Maligne my peace, and sweets infest)
Lycean Phœbus to these prayers lend
An open ear, and a propitious End;
And all things else, though not express'd by me,
Which unto you a god must naked be,
For fit it is Joves seed should all things see.

Tut.
Who can enform one, Lady's, I intreat
If this be Royall Egists Princely seat.

Qui.
This gentle stranger 'tis: Right is your aim.

Tut.
At this his Consort aim I too as nigh?
Her presence personates a Majestie.

Qui.
Resolve you this great Lady is the same.

Tut.
Hail gratious Queen, sweet tidings I commend
From one to you and Egist a near Friend.

Clyt.
Succeed the news, but first acquaint me this,
What Master sent you with these Embassy's.

Tut.
Phanot the Phocese. High concernment 'tis.

Clyt.
Friend speak it out, you come from a good King,
And a good Message without doubt you bring.

Tut.
Orestes death in one word take it all.

El.
Wo to me wretch, this day compleats my fall.

Clyt.
What is't? what is't my Friend? her cry's ne're heed.

Tut.
Orestes, then and now I say, is dead.

El.
Lost and forlorn I am: I am no more.

Clyt.
Get you about your businesse, but kind friend
Tell me the certain manner of his end.

Tut.
I'll tell you all: my Journey was therefore.
Arriv'd at Greeces high renowned Came,
To enter in the Delphick lifts he came:
Where first the cryer with shrill voyce proclaim'd
The race on Foot: This was the foremost nam'd,
He enters brave: th'amazed Cirque look on,
Nor by his person was his power out-done.
But fleet he scoures the lazy road, and meets
The forward Goal. The Crown his conquest greets
Of many facts, I can relate but few
Who neither his exploits nor Prowesse knew,
Onely take this: When ever race was wag'd,
Or in the five-encounters Men engag'd:
One from the rest to bear away the Day
Was still cry'd up: An Argive as they say,
Orestes nam'd; great Agamemnons sonne,
Who levy'd the Greek host of late renown,
Thus farre 'twas so; but if God rayse his arm,
No strength is Heaven-proof to stand the harm.
For he one day when of swift charriot-horse,
By early Sunne they made a speedy Course
Ent'red the Stage with many chariotiers,
An Archive one: from Spartæone appears;
Their harnest Barbary's two Lybians driv'd,
(And among them he was himself) a fifth,
Lasht his Thessalick Mares: a sixth one jolts
His ratling Coach with bay Etolian colts.
The seventh a Magnesian: In th'eighth place,
One with white horse, an Enian by race.
The ninth frow Athens, heav'n built was come:
Last, a Bœotian coach fill'd the tenth room.
Standing where by the lot the Masters find,
What rank should to each chariot be assign'd,
At brazen Trump they start, each chiding backs
His slothfull Steeds, the waving rein each shak's:
The plains are deafned by the ratling wheels,
And clouds of dust rise from the horses heels:
Pell Mell they drive: None spare for sting: while each,
At t'others spokes and panting nostrils reach,
While they put on, the hindmost Courser laves
That's Back, and that the Rut with foamy waves,
But he his outmost axle alwayes led,
Close to the columnes side, and giving head
To the right forehorse, held his fellow streight:
Still all the steady chariots stood upright,
When th'Enians hard-mouth'd steeds in furious sort,
Set on a running, and then turning short,
After the sixth and seventh stage complete,
Their foreheads on ehe Barcian Coaches beat,
And as mischances never go alone,
One by another's broke and overthrown:
All the Crisean heath did cover'd lie.
With shatter'd limbs of ship-wrackt Chivalry.
This he of Athens shrowd at's rein espies,
And gently draws aside, so by there flyes
The harnes'd Cataract, tumbling all in heaps.
He drives i'th rear; but still Orestes keeps
His horses last, relying on the end.
But when he sees him onely left behind,
With a shrill lash his nimble steeds revive,
Pursuing swift, and pole by pole they drive,
Poys'd is the game; and if one overlook,
By t'others foreward head he's overtook.
Th'unhappy Prince, these Posts unoverthrown,
Upright in upright chariot safe had gone,
When he his left rein slackt, and turning Pole,
Fell unawares upon the Column foul;
The Nave asunder splits, and on the Wheels
He pitches down, and drags his hamperd heels
I'th following Tire, and as he fell along,
The plunging horses through the champion long:
But when the ring beheld the sweet youth slide
Down from the box, with a shrill shriek they cri'd,
How brave a Prince how bad a fate doth share!
Dragg'd on the ground, then tossing in the aire
His hurri'd legs, till the kind chariotiers
With much ado stopping their mad carriers,
Loosen the bloudy corps, so torn as none
Their friends disfigured countenance could own.
Then forthwith certain Phocians order'd, burn
His limbs; and in a little brazen urn,
Conduct the cinders of that mighty Name,
That in his Countrey he may buriall claim.
You have it all. Piteous it is to tell:
But had you bin, as we, at th'Spectacle,
In my sight ne're so sad a thing befell.

Qu.
Wo, wo, our ancient Masters forward hope
Wholly, it seems, is Root and Branch stockt up.

Clyt.
O Jove! what's here! is't Cursednesse or Blisse?
'Tis gain, I grant; yet grievous joy it is,
If mine own sorrows must my life protect.

Tut.
Why Lady, do's this Message you deject?

Clyt.
Child-birth is sharp, and though he prove ungrate,
A Mother yet cannot her own pangs hate.

Tut.
We on an idle errand come, I see.

Clyt.
Not idle neither, how can't idle be,
That you of his decease sure signes have brought,
Who when he was of mine own soul begot,
Revolting from my dugs and nurture, run
To forreigne Realms; and since he first was gone,
Ne're saw me, but his Fathers murder charg'd
On me, and cruel threatnings hath enlarg'd;
So that nor day, nor night, my sleeps were sweet,
But the next houre I lookt my death to meet;
But now this day is my deliverer
From all my fears of him, my fears of her.
'Twas she, a worse and inmate grief I hous'd,
Which gnaw'd my bones, and my heart-bloud carous'd.
But now, our quiet dayes, without annoy
Survive, nor shall her threats impeach our joy.

El.
Wo's me poor wretch! 'tis time thy fall to mourn,
My dear Orestes, who art yet a scorn
To thy reviling Mother; well is this?

Clyt.
No, not with you; but well with him it is.

El.
Give eare, O Justice, and revenge the dead.

Cly.
She hath given eare aright, & wel decreed.

El.
Mock on, for your prosperity now flaunts.

Cly.
You and Orestes ne're will leave these taunts.

El.
Yes, we have left, but cannot make you leave

Clyt.
Good stranger, mayst thou all reward receive,
That thou hast freed us from her brawling tone.

Tut.
Well, I am going then, since that is done.

Clyt.
By no means, Sir, that thought do's neither suit
With your great Lords respect, nor my repute:
But enter in, and let her without door,
Her own distresses, and her friends deplore

Clytemnestra carries the Tutour off the stage, to entertain him in her Court

.

El.
Do not you mark how passionate, how wild
Distressed Lady she bewayls her child?
That he is dead, and that he thus should die?
No: she unnat'rall laughs. Unhappy I!
I, who deare Brother, perish in thy fall,
While thou hast bury'd at thy Funerall,
My remnant of low hopes to see the day,
When thy just hand full vengeance should display,
A Fathers death, and Sisters wrongs to pay.
Now where shall I my dolefull footsteps turn,
Who am all desolate, and twice forlorn?
Brotherlesse Orphan. Once more to their check
Whom I most hate, I must submit my neck,
My Fathers Headsmen serve. With me is't well?
But 't is resolv'd, I will no longer dwell
In these curs'd walls,

Electra layes her down before the gate.

but here before this gate
Laying me down, will fade disconsolate,
And let them, if they take this ill within
Kill me, my slaughter were a courteous sinne,
To live is pain, the light I hate to spinne.

Quir.
Where be Joves thunders fled,
And Phœbus burnisht head,
If this they eye,
Like standers by?

El.
Ah! wo!

Quir.
Lady, why this lament?

El.
Oh!

Quir.
Be not too vehement.

El.
You kill me.

Qu.
How?

El.
If you with hopes beguil me,
Of those whom plain we know,
Fled to deaths region below:
My dying light,
You even quench out-right.

Qu.
Why th'Argive Bard I knew,
Whom the gold Bracelet slew,
First hid in's cave,
And now in's grave.

El.
Ah! wo!

Qu.
He's Sovereigne of the dead.

El.
Oh!

Qu.
Oh truly! for tis sad.

El.
He perisht.

Qu.
Yes.

El.
True, true: for a friend cherisht
His Orphan at's decease;
But none vouchsafes my grief to ease:
And he that wou'd,
Is blasted in the bud.

Qui.
Sad Lady you sad things indure.

El.
I know't, I know't too sure:
Sorrow's crowding, overflowing,
Never fading, ever growing.

Qui.
We all bear witnesse to your Cry.

El.
O then look you no more
Entice me to give o're.

Qui.
What say you?

El.
Yet I spy
Helpers beside,
Hopes of blood royall near ally'd.

Qu.
All mortalls death must undergo.

El.
In cruel racing too?
As, unhappy, he was mangled,
In the winding traces tangled.

Qui.
It was an unseen misery.

El.
Yes, for in forreigne land,
Without my carefull hand.

Qu.
Alas now!

El.
He must lie,
Nor buried,
Nor with my tears upon him shed.

Chry.
Wingd with delight, and by sweet pleasure chac't,
Quitting all decent gate, I hither hast:
For joyfull news I bring, and sure repose
From the long burden of your pressing woes.

El.
Whence can you find a balsome for my heart,
Whose wounds are past the slender cure of art?

Chry.
Oreste's come: take it from me, & know,
'Tis sure as that thou strangely eye me now.

El.
Art mad poor wretch: or dost thou this designe,
To laugh at thine own miseries and mine?

Chry.
No, houshold Vesta help me, as no jeer
I mean at all: but he is certain here.

El.
Ah me unhappy! on what mortals breath
Builds thy assurance it's unerring faith?

Chr.
Mine & none others eies my authors were,
Sure signes I saw, and a true message bear.

El.
Poor heart, what surety saw'st thou? from what aim
Striv'st thou to fan my breasts expiring flame?

Chr.
Now for the gods sakes heark, and as you find
Repute me henceforth sound or weak in mind.

El.
Tell on then, if you pleasure take to tell.

Chr.
I will, and nothing that I know conceal.
When I approcht my Fathers ancient stone,
Fresh riv'lets of new milk run trickling down
From th'hillock I descry: and a sweet rownd
Of sev'rall flowers my Fathers ashes crownd.
Seeing I wonder, and I wondring stand
To see the Authour, if he were at hand:
But when I viewd the coast on all sides clear,
Nearer the tombe I stole: whose brinks appear
Strowd all about with locks of new-shorn hair:
Which when, poore wretch, I saw, my active thought
A face well known unto my fansie brought:
I straight presag'd no hand but that alone
Of dear Orestes could this office own.
Taking them up, no blasting curse I band,
But tears of joy in my warm ey-lids stand;
So that both then, and now, I firmly know,
That these devotions none but him can show:
For, bating us, to whom does this pertain?
Now that my act 'tis not I witnesse can;
Nor is it yours: for how could you escape,
Which rue it if but out to Church you step?
Nor does thy mothers heart delight to act
Such works, nor had she carried it untrack'd.
Orestes 'tis; these Honours must designe.
Then, dear, courage: Alwayes the face divine
Views not the same with the same constant shine;
It yet hath frownd on us, and who can tell,
Whether this day much happinesse may seal?

El.
Poore fool! I pitie thee ev'n all the way.

Ch.
What's this? rejoyce you not at what I say?

El.
Thou knowst not where thou stand'st, nor what's thy thought.

Ch.
How know I not that which mine eyes me taught?

El.
He's dead, poore wretch, thy hopes are at an end,
Of aid from him, no more on him depend.

Ch.
Unhappy me! of whom did you this hear?

El.
Of one which when he fell, himself was near.

Ch.
And where is he? amazement strikes my breast.

El.
'Bout house; my mothers dear and welcome guest.

Ch.
Unhappy me! vvho vvas he then that gave
Those lib'rall off'rings at my Fathers grave?

El.
I am persvvaded some kind hand hath paid
Those sad devotions to Orestes shade.

Ch.
Distressed me! but I vvith joy surprizd
Hastned to bring this vvord, nor once surmizd
In vvhat sad case vve are, but coming vievv,
My ancient Bill of care enflamd with new.

El.
Thus stands your case, but if you'l hear my mind,
This pressing load of grief you shall unbind.

Ch.
Can I the dead to life raise up again?

El.
There's no such need: I was not sure so vain.

Ch.
What other action can my strength effect?

El.
Dare but to move as I shall you direct.

Ch.
Why if't be good, I vvill not come behind.

El.
See, without pains nothing successe can find.

Ch.
I see: and vvill contribute too my All.

El.
Heark then vvhich vvay my resolutions fal.
Our store of friends, you knovv that none vve have
But all are svvallovv'd by the rav'nous grave,
And onely vve distressed pair survive.
Novv vvhile I heard my brother vvas alive
And flourisht, still, one day, my hopes did rest,
He for his Fathers bloud vvould make inquest.
But since he's gone, to you I turn my eyes,
That vvith your sister joyning enterprise,
You should not novv to execute deferre
Egist our Fathers executioner:
For nought it boots longer my thoughts to stop,
And till vvhen vvill you slug? upon vvhat hope
Not sleighted look you? You indeed may moan.
Of your revenue robd and portion:
And you may grieve vvhich to this ancient day
Unbedded and unwedded wear avvay.
Nay, never must you look these joyes to meet:
For think not Egist is so indiscreet,
To suffer once your stock or mine to flourish,
Which vvere his open overthrow to nourish.
But if you vvill my earnest counsel trust,
First to our Fathers and our Brothers dust,
Perform the Ceremony's of the Dead,
Then as thou'rt nobly born, and nobly bred,
Assert thy Name, & thou a Match shalt find
Of worth, for all to vertue are enclin'd
But as for fame, you know not what respect,
Obeying me, on us both you reflect.
For who or Friend or Stranger shall us meet,
But will us with this commendation greet?
Mark Dear Companions those two Sisters: those
Who from the Dust redeem'd their Fathers house.
Who when Victorious Treason highest flew,
Spar'd not for life, but the bold rebell slew:
These we must love: these we must reverence all:
And for their Spirit at Feasts and publik Hall,
Receive with Honour Epidemicall.
Thus shall all living us with praises Crown,
So that nor Life, nor Death shall want renown.
Wherefore Dear soul be rul'd your Sire relieve,
Assist your Brother, rescue me from grief.
Rescue your self: Assur'd of this, 'tis base
Well to be born and live in foul disgrace.

Qui.
In such affairs Advice were a good Friend,
To them that Counsell, and them that atend.

Chry.
Now e're she spoke, Lady's, had Vertue reign'd,
She Modesty had kept which now is stain'd.
For on what grounds in desp'rat boldnesse yet
Dresse you your Heart and fain would me abet?
Nor count how you are Woman born not Man,
Inferiour is our Sex, and lesser can;
Then their Prosperity in Spring-tides flow'th,
Ours back is Eb'd and parcheth into Drouth.
Who then shall plot to stricke off such a Head,
And think to carry it unpunished?
See then lest Bad enough to Worse advance;
If any Ear on these our Counsells glance.
For nought it helps us, nor our state amends,
To gain good Names, and come to shameful Ends.
For Death is not the worst, but Death to will.
Nor to be able this Will to fulfill.
Now I beseech you e're you root us out
At once, and bring your Family to nought,
Asswage your heat: and all which hath been said,
Unspoke, Undone, shall safely up be laid.
Onely your Spirit check, and learn at length
How weak you are, and then submit to strength.

Qui.
Be rul'd: No treasure Man enjoy's so great
As is a wise Forecast, and mind discreet.

El.
All this before I look't for: I expected
That all which was apply'd should be rejected:
But with my Hand this work alone will I
Atchieve: nor will we let out counsells die.

Chry.
Oh—
Would when my Father dy'd your Mind had been
Thus firmly bent; you all had finish't then.

El.
Why then my will was good, but lesse my wit.

Chry.
Strive that your wit stand alwayes at that height.

El.
You then instruct me but wil nothing Aid.

Chry.
Why it will bring us ruine if assay'd.

El.
I praise your wondrous Wit, but hate your fear.

Chry.
When you shall thank me for it I'll give ear.

El.
Never expect to find me in that Note.

Chry.
Of that Hereafter gives the surer Vote.

El.
Away, for thou art one wil't nothing do.

Chry.
I would, but thou art one wilt nothing know.

El.
Go tell your Mother the discourse w'have had.

Chry.
No, Sister, yet I love you not so bad.

El.
Know you to great disgrace draw me aside.

Chry.
To no disgrace, but wisedom I you guide.

El.
I follow must what you for Justice read.

Chry.
When you with Judgement joyn, then you shall lead.

El.
Pity one speaks so well, and speaks so wide.

Chry.
Right said you that, to your own speech appli'd.

El.
What seem I not with Justice to combine?

Chry.
Yes but sometime Justice with Harm may Joyn.

El.
I'll never to these lawes Alleagiance pay.

Chry.
But if you do, you'l thank me for't one Day.

El.
Yes I will do, nor will at all you dread.

Chry.
Is't true? nor will you second Counsell read?

El.
No: for of Bads, the Worst Bad Counsell is.

Chry.
All I have said you understand amisse.

El.
Long fixt is this resolve; no sudden Motion.

Chry.
Then I am gone, for on my words attend.
You will not, nor can I your works commend.

El
Go in: ne're will I be at your devotion,
Though most you wish it; for 'tis foolish pains,
If we Content pursue, where none remains.

Chry,

This shee speaks as she is walking away.

Why if you think you are so, still be wise;
But when you feel it, you'll praise my Advice.

Qui.

Or.
Have we Deare Lady's, been directed right;
And do we on our purpos'd journey hit?

Qu.
What is your search? and whether your desire?

Or.
For Egist, where he dwells I long enquire.

Qu.
You're right, and harmlesse your directour save.

Or.
Who then to those within this errand carries,
That here a welcome message for them tarries?

Qu.
Here's one. if of her Brother news she have.

Or.
Go, Maiden, them within acquaint; At gate
Some men of Phocia for Egist wait.

Qu.
Unhappy me! You come not to evince,
The late report we had by certain signes

Or.
Your talk I know not: But some weighty thing
Touching Orestes, from old Strophius bring.

Qu.
What is it friend? I feel a chilling fear.

Or.
We in small Urn these Funerall reliques bear
In hand, behold it, of Orestes here.

El.
Ay wretched me! Now plain before mine eie,
I see the weight, and feel the misery.

Or.
If for Orestes you a tear let slide,
Know that this pitcher doth his Body hide.

El.
Friend, give me leave, for th'gods sake I am bold,
To take this in my hand, if this him hold:
That o're these ashes I may wail and moan
My self, and all my family undone.

Or.
Come reach it her, who e're she be, for sure
Ill will would never this request procure:
But or some Friend, or else in bloud she's neare.

El.
O thou his monument, who was most dear
The remnant of Orestes soul: how wide
Thy settings-forth, and thy return's divide?
For now my hands can poyse thy empty load,
But, child, I sent thee glorious abroad.
Would I had breath'd my last e're I thee left
To forreigne lands, and sav'd thy life by theft!
Then hadst thou with thy Sire that day destroy'd,
As Death with Death, so Grave by grave enjoy'd.
But now from home, and vagrant in strange coast,
Without thy Sister, thou art sadly lost.
Nor did with tender hands unhappy I,
Thy loved corse in Bathings purifie:
Nor did I take, as decent rites require.
The dolefull burden from the solemn fire:
But by strange hands laid out, thou dost return
The easie measure of a shallow Urn.
Wretched me! Oh my feeding thee of old
Now comes to nought! For oft I thee did hold,
Nursing with peasant trouble. Thou wert stil'd
Not more at all thy Mothers, then my child.
I was thy Nurse, not they within reputed,
And I thy sister alwayes was saluted.
But all these comforts in one day are dead,
With thee expiring: thou with them art fled.
Thou like a whirl-wind rush'dst: Faln is my Father:
I from thee perisht: Thou destroy'd together.
The enemy laughs, and wild with joy doth rant
Thy Step-dame-Mother; which lewd miscreant
Thou oft to me in private message sent,
That thou wouldst bring to condigne punishment.
But all those just resolves, and vows repeated,
Thine, and my angry Angel have defeated,
Which thus to me hath in sad wise convey'd
For thy sweet Face, this dust and uselesse shade
O me! O me!
O Dolefull corse! Ay! Ay!
O how dismall! Oh me! O me!
A journey tookst thou, Dearest, to my death,
Thy Sisters death, O soul more dear then breath.
Wherefore thou Me to Thee take in this room,
Nothing to nothing: so for time to come
I'll lodge with thee Below: for thou Above
And I did alwayes equall fortunes prove.
And now I long thy Death and Urn to share:
For I perceive not that the dead take care.

Qu.
Electra, think a Mortall Sire you had,
And Mortall Brother too, nor grieve too bad,
For we are out-law'd all till Death be paid.

Or.
Oh! oh! what shall I say? what strange addresse
Contrive? nor can I longer me suppresse.

El.
What is your grief? what may this language sound?

Or.
Is yours Electra's visage so renown'd?

El.
This is the same, and in full grievous plight.

Or.
Alas! how sad and pitifull a sight!

El.
Why Stranger, do you thus for me lament?

Or.
O Body wickedly and basely rent!

El.
I, gentle Stranger, am the same you moan,

Or.
O sad unwedded desolation!

El.
Why, Stranger, look you thus on me, & sigh?

Or.
Of all my sorrows I ne're knew the tithe.

El.
How know you that from ought hath now been spoken?

Or.
In seeing you with many troubles broken.

El.
Few of my troubles are to sight disclos'd.

Or.
And how can worse then these be once suppos'd?

El.
Because I still with murderers converse.

Or.
Murdrers? of whom? strange grief thou dost rehearse.

El.
My Fathers Murdrers; and am made their drudge.

Or.
What mortall doth thee to this bondage judge?

El.
One Mother cald, but nothing Mother-like.

Or.
And by what means? Doth she thee starve or strike?

El.
Both starvs and strikes, and all hard usage tries.

Or.
And does no Helper, no Defender rise?

El.
None, and my One that was is in your urn.

Or.
Poore heart, I pity all along thy turn.

El.
Know you are th'onely He hath done thus much.

Or.
For I am th'onely He your troubles touch.

El.
You are not any way to us ally'd?

Or.
I'ld you resolve, might I in these confide.

El.
You may; with honest Lady's you conferre,

Or.
Let go the Pot then, and the businesse heare.

El.
Use me not, Stranger, for the gods sake so.

Or.
Obey my words and you aright shall go.

El.
Not for all dears: rob me not of my treasure.

Or.
I can you not excuse.

El.
Hard is my measure
If I thy dust, Orestes, must let go.

Or.
Good words. Those grones no lawfull warrant shew.

El.
No warrant, when I grone for my dead brother?

Or.
Those words do not become you, but some other.

El.
Am I so of the deads inferiours?

Or.
Inferiour you of none: nor is this yours.

El.
If this Orestes body be, I poyse.

Or.
Its no Orestes, but a coyn'd device,

El.
Where then, unhappy, is his tombe indeed?

Or.
No where: For men alive no tombe do need.

El,
What saiest thou man?

Or.
No lie I do contrive.

El.
And does he breath?

Or.
As sure as I'me alive.

El,
You are not he?

Or.
See this my Fathers Seal,
And learn if I other then truth reveal,

El.
O dearest face!

Or.
Dearest I witnes bear.

El.
O voyce art come?

Or.
No other seek to hear.

El.
I thee embrace.

Or.
O mayst thou e're from hence!

El.
Dearest companions, fellow citizens;
Behold Orestes by a fiction slain,
And by that fiction safely brought again.

Qu.
Lady, we see. And all our grief to heal,
A tear of joy down from our eyes doth steal.

El.
O Noblest, Noblest Progeny
Of the most Reverend, to me
At length brought back;
You come, you find, you see those whom you you lack,

Or.
W'are come: But o're us let still silence hover.

El.
What is the businesse?

Or.
Silence were best, lest they within discover.

El.
Now Dian aid,
Eternall maid,
Of that be ne're afraid,
While such a female swarm
Still in the house, ring their alarm.

Or.
Beware, for women too can warre assay:

El.
O joyfull day!
Thou hast restord our light,
Wrapt up in constant night,
In one continu'd West,
So were our hearts distrest.

Or.
I know this too; but then we will reflect
On these affairs, when season shall direct.

El.
All time, all time I do repute
My present joyfulnesse to suit,
So just, so fit;
For never could I speak with freedome yet.

Or,
There I consent. Wherefore now keep it safer.

El.
By what endeauours?

Or.
By not enlarging, while time does not favour.

El.
Upon what fear
Now you appear
Can I to speak forbear,
When unwarn'd, unadvis'd,
I see thee hither come disguis'd?

Or.
Thou seest me when the Gods decree'd my way.

El.
Blest news you say,
Greater then yet I knew,
You tell a joy that's new;
If God did guide, I say
Auspicious is your way.

Or.
Full loth I am to check your joy, but yet
I fear to pleasure you too much submit.

El.
Thou who didst please though held by long demurre
This pleasant voyage to preferre
Me spouse of sorrows do not thou—

Or.
What should I not?

El.
Do not me disallow
The pleasure of thy presence to declare

Or.
With others I'ld be angry should they dare.

El.
You like me then!

Or.
Why should I otherwise

El.
O friends a voice
Which I expected not I heard,
My anger speechlesse was,
And I to cry aloud afeard;
But now I hugge thee; on thy face
A pleasant shine doth sit
Which I though full of care should ne're forget.

Or.
From all impertinent discourses cease:
Nor teach me that debaucht my mother is;
That Egist all our Fathers coffers spends;
Wast's some himself, and shares some with his Friends.
The time would passe should we discoursing stand
But what may further the designe in hand
Tell me, how in an hid or ouvert way,
My coming may my laughing foes allay.
And when we enter hold a watchfull eye,
Lest you with chearfull looks your Mother spy,
But to the tale of grief a grone let flie:
For, when our labours have obtain'd the goal,
Then we may laugh and joy without controll.

El.
Well Brother, what may make to your content
Shall be my care: for all my joyes I rent
Deriv'd from you, nor can my Free-hold call;
Wherefore I would not, to your grief though small,
A great advantage reap: For I full ill
Should hearken to my present Angels will.
Nor can you otherwise but know the summe
Of our affairs: How Egist is from home;
But here within my Mother, whom ne're doubt
Lest she my merry countenance find out:
For both in ancient feud I with her burn;
And seeing the pleasure of your safe return,
To drop my liquid joy in plenteous shower,
Nor ever will desist, nor have the power:
For I have thee dead and alive beheld
At one approch, and wonders reconcil'd:
So that should I my Father meet alive,
Faith unastonisht to the sight I'ld give:
Wherefore your own way, since you are arriv'd,
Lead on; for I had this alone atchiev'd,
I had not miss'd what still was in my eye,
Bravely to quit my self, or bravely die.

Or.
Silence I you advis'd. Some from within
I hear is coming forth.

El.
Come, Strangers, in;
For what you bring, can neither forth be kept,
Nor can the taker with delight accept.

Tut.
O Men most vain, and of all wit bereft,
What, of your lives have you no value left?
Or have you not of common sense a tast,
Who do not once conceive how you are plac'd,
Not at the Brink but in wide hazzards deep!
For had not I light in the house to keep
A faithfull ward, into the inmost room
Before your persons, your designes had come.
But now a sure provision I have made:
Wherefore aside all long discourses laid,
And dangerous joy by lavish shouts bewrayd,
Enter the house: for perill tracks delay,
And expedition here must win the Day.

Or.
How at my entrance are things manag'd there?

Tut,
Right well: for none will know you who you are.

Or.
You then have of my death reporter been?

Tut,
Know you are one of t'other world within.

Or.
And are they glad thereat? what words are giv'n?

Tut.
When all is done I'll answer: But untill
All's there, ev'n that which is not well, is well.

El.
Brother, I beg, resolve me what's this man?

Or.
Know you him not?

El.
Nor yet imagine can.

Or.
Know you not whom you gave me in his hands?

El.
Whom? what d' you mean?

Or.
Who to the Phocian lands
Convey'd me secretly, sent by your order.

El,
Is this that man, the onely He of all
Whom I found faithfull at my Fathers fall?

Or.
The same it is: examine me no further.

El.
O dearest face! O onely ransomer
Of Agamemnons house! how camst thou here?
Art thou He which from Death hast him set free,
And me from odious captivity?
Dearest, those hands, and those beloved feet
A sweet embassage bear! Nor did I heed
Thy neere converse, nor wouldst disclose; but slew'st
Me with thy words, when truth most dear, thou knewst.
Hail Father! for methinks I see my Father.
Hail, and know, thee most of all men together,
In one dayes compasse I did hate and favour.

Tut.
Enough: for these discourses made at pleasure,
The wheeling Nights, with equall Dayes may measure:
Which you Electra thus shall entertain.
But you that here attend, I tell you plain,
Now action fits: Now the Queen's all alone.
Now there's no man within: But if you drone
Consider how with these, and wiser farre,
Beeing more then these, you must engage in War.

Or.
Pylade, this work no further long delay
Requires, but in we with all speed we may.
And let's our homage offer to the gods
Which in this entrance take up their abodes.

Pylade and Orêstes kneel down and pray. Electra kneels down too in the Court of the house with them.

El.
Sovereigne Apollo, them with favour heare,
And me with them: for I did still appear
With hand enlarg'd, according to my power.
And now, Lycean King, I bring my store,
I pray, I prostrate me, I beg. Combine
Thy aid propitious in this great designe.
And then the unbelieving world shall see,
What due rewards the gods to vice decree.

Qu.
See how Mars breathing hostile blood,
Before is tasting of his food,
And enter'd rove within the house
The chasers of facts villanous
The Hounds below!
So that not farre behind doth go
That which my mind did long fore-know.
For in the house brought from the dead,
The Judge in a disguise doth tread,
His Fathers rich and ancient seat,
Grasping in hand his blade new whet:
And Maia's son,
Close Merc'ry leads them, putting on
A myst to th'last, nor tarry's till anon.

El.
Lady's most dear, The men within disspatch
The bus'nesse, here do you with silence watch.

Qu.
How? Now what do they?

El.
While she do's provide
A cauldron for the dead, they stand beside.

Qu.
And why did you come out?

El.
To stand a guard,
Lest Egist enter in and ne're be heard.

Clyt.
Ah! Ah! Wo! the House
Widow'd of Friends, and seiz'd upon by Fiends!

El.
One cri's within, do you not hear my friends?

Qu.
I a dismall hearing heard,
Made unhappy me afeard.

Clyt.
O me forlorn! Egist, where art thou? gone.

El.
Look, one cri's out again.

Clyt.
O son! O son!
Pity thy Mother.

El.
But I'me sure nor He,
Nor his own Father, pity'd were by thee.

Qui.
Wretched City; wretched House,
Now the Fate of old thine own
Thee into waste ruines throw's
Down, Down.

Clyt.
Oh! I am stab'd!

El.
Courage and mend your blow.

Clyt.
Oh! and again!

El.
Would Egist were so too!

Qui.
The Curses prove. They breath
Whom Earth had lodg'd beneath:
For he which long ago was dead, now drains,
Channels of Blood from out the Murderers veyns.

El.
So they come forth, his Crimson hand doth wreak
With Wars oblation; But I cannot speak
How are things carry'd?

Or.
Things within are wrought
Well if Apollos wisedom well hath taught,
The Wretch is Dead; Henceforth all Fear displace,
Your Mothers spight ne're shall you more disgrace.

Qui.
Peace! for I discover cleare,
Egist do's in sight appear.

El.
Lady's, what not retire?

Or.
Do you perceive
The Man at Hand?

El.
He doth the suburbs leave
With Jocond pace ------
[OMITTED]

Qui.
In the House: go Ambush'd sit,
With all present speedinesse:
Those things hitherto have hit
May these!

Or.
Rest quiet we perform your will.

El.
Then hast.

Or.
I'me lodg'd.

El.
My charge be o're these actions plac'd

Qui.
'Twere best a while picquere,
And buzze into his ear
Some idle tale; and play the fish, that so
He unawares may rush on judgements blow.

Egist.
The Phocian strangers which of you can shew's
Who of Orestes death they say bring news,
That he was cast away i'th Chariot-wrecks?
Can you? or you? or can you I must ask
That were so fierce before: for you I take
Here most concern'd, and best report can make.

El.
Know it! how should I lesse? or I should live
An utter Alien to my dearest grief.

Eg.
Resolve me where one may the strangers find

El.
Within: for they've met with their Hostes kind.

Eg.
And did they say for certain he was Dead?

El.
No, (but they shew'd him too) not onely said.

Eg.
And may we see this plain convincing light?

El.
You may: your self will pity much the sight.

Eg.
Much joy thou tell'st me of besides thy wont.

El.
Encrease your joy if this for joy you count!

Eg.
Silence I will you, and the Gates unfold,
That Argives and Mycenians may behold:
That so if any with presumption spread,
Hath stuff't his Sayles, seeing the Prince is dead
He may my Curb endure, and henceforth fear
Least I condemn, his haughty Head to rear.

El.
My duty is perform'd: for I late wit
Have got, and can to power now submit.

Eg.
O Jove! A sight I see with sorrow clo'yd,
But whether judgements hand I not decide.
Withdraw the Vayle that even I may shed,
A tear upon my Kinsman that is dead.

Or.
Take it your self. 'Tis not mine but your own
To look upon, and with kind words to moan.

Eg,
'Tis right, I will: But some of you 'bout House
Go Clytemnestra hither call to us.

Or.
She is hard by you; look no further for her.

Eg.

He disinvelops it.

Oh! what see I?

Or.
Whom look you on with horrour?

Eg.
What Men have me within their nets enclos'd
At unawares?

Or.
Have you not that suppos'd,
How you alive talk with the Dead thus free?

Eg.
Alack, I take the word. It cannot be,
But this Orestes is, who talks with me.

The Body of slain Clytemnestra is drawn forth vayled into the Stage, represented to Egist as the Corse of Orestes.

Or.
You out so long and such A Cunning Man!

Eg.
Wretch I am lost: yet let me this obtain
Hear one word.

El.
Brother, do not, I beseech
Let him go on, and spin a teadious speech.
For wherein is a Dying Man reliev'd
If he one grievous Minute be repriev'd?
But kill him out of hand, and being kil'd,
Give him the Buryall of the open field
Out of our sight: for onely this will lose
The sad remembrance of my ancient woes.

Or.
Get you in quickly: For you now Commence
An Execution and no defence.

Eg.
Why do you hale me in? if this be fair
Why lacks it Night, and dreads the open Air?

Or.
Appoint you not. But to the Chamber hy
Where you my Father kil'd and there Come die.

Eg.
Is it ordein'd that that same Room must see
The Pelops Ills that are, and Are to be.

Or.
It must yours. I of that give a shrowd guesse.

Eg.
Your Fathers honour you do not professe.

Or.
You much dispute, but go but slowly on.
Advance.

Eg.
Go first.

Or.
No you must lead the van.

Eg.
Shall I not scape you.

Or.
I must now beware
All ease that you a bitter death may share.
'Twere fit this Martiall law did still prevail,
That who so durst transgresse the statutes pale,
Might streight be kild, for villains soon would fail.

Qui.
Atreus seed how hard opprest,
Art thou at length arriv'd at rest
By this Assay redrest!