 | Electra of Sophocles |  |
To my most intimate C. F. C. W. On his ELECTRA, Translated out of the Greek, and laid at the feet of her Highnesse the Lady ELIZABETH.
Bold Friend,
Thou hast spoke words, and thou must look
To be indited for thy per'lous Book;
Twelve honest men of Mycens shall debate
About the Symptomes of thy foolish Fate.
How wilt thou look when thou shalt be attaqu'd.
For having broke Lord Egists new made Act?
O for a Limber then with grace to hint
Thy wan complexion and thy face in print!
Thou hast spoke words, and thou must look
To be indited for thy per'lous Book;
Twelve honest men of Mycens shall debate
About the Symptomes of thy foolish Fate.
How wilt thou look when thou shalt be attaqu'd.
For having broke Lord Egists new made Act?
O for a Limber then with grace to hint
Thy wan complexion and thy face in print!
Is it a cheap offence to have display'd
The Mysterie of the Thanksgiving-trade,
That you Humiliations too must mock,
It's dear Co-partner, that drives on one stock?
The Mysterie of the Thanksgiving-trade,
That you Humiliations too must mock,
It's dear Co-partner, that drives on one stock?
Thou sweet Electra hast with sighs reliev'd;
Thou hast with her in all her sorrows griev'd.
Thou hast with her in all her sorrows griev'd.
And when 'twas Ordered that she be array'd
In the cast gown of some stale Chamber-maid;
Thou from remotest Isles Attire hast brought
Of purest gold, with curious phansie wrought,
Unfolded from the Ward-robe of thy Wit.
Rich as the Vests aboard her Fathers fleet,
When Asian Robes, and costly Phrygian Vayls,
Over the Victour spred their silken sayles
Nor were they Webs of an inferiour Grain
By rude and Needy Vulgar knit for Gain:
There fifty Princesses in stately grace,
With equall Princes match'd, great Priams race
On Ivory Couches in soft Cushions plac'd,
(The lofty Gallery's with gold enchac'd)
Their Needles ply: each Madams nimble clue
The younger Dames and honour'd Maids pursue,
In the cast gown of some stale Chamber-maid;
Thou from remotest Isles Attire hast brought
Of purest gold, with curious phansie wrought,
Unfolded from the Ward-robe of thy Wit.
Rich as the Vests aboard her Fathers fleet,
When Asian Robes, and costly Phrygian Vayls,
Over the Victour spred their silken sayles
Nor were they Webs of an inferiour Grain
By rude and Needy Vulgar knit for Gain:
There fifty Princesses in stately grace,
With equall Princes match'd, great Priams race
On Ivory Couches in soft Cushions plac'd,
(The lofty Gallery's with gold enchac'd)
Their Needles ply: each Madams nimble clue
The younger Dames and honour'd Maids pursue,
When Egist too had her confinement charg'd
By thee thus richly clad she is enlarg'd,
And by a Princesse plac'd, whose each aspect
Will an enriched Ray of grief reflect:
See how they kindle tears, how by consent
They now themselves, each other now lament.
Mark their thick Tears, and fair dejected Head,
As heavie Lilly's honey-riv'lets shed.
Then they look up, and if but thin drops shoot,
At th'others Eie their watry Host recruit.
The streams fall in and mix. Pale sorrow rides
In silent depths, and unimpeached tides.
Now Tears they vie, and in the place contend,
Each is a Duellist, and not a Friend:
Till on the precious pavement this rich vein
Is lost in that, and so they close again:
Now in full force they march, joyn hand in hand,
And Grief no Champion is, but a full Band.
By thee thus richly clad she is enlarg'd,
And by a Princesse plac'd, whose each aspect
Will an enriched Ray of grief reflect:
See how they kindle tears, how by consent
They now themselves, each other now lament.
As heavie Lilly's honey-riv'lets shed.
Then they look up, and if but thin drops shoot,
At th'others Eie their watry Host recruit.
The streams fall in and mix. Pale sorrow rides
In silent depths, and unimpeached tides.
Now Tears they vie, and in the place contend,
Each is a Duellist, and not a Friend:
Till on the precious pavement this rich vein
Is lost in that, and so they close again:
Now in full force they march, joyn hand in hand,
And Grief no Champion is, but a full Band.
But I must adde one word, before we end,
To expiate my having been thy friend.
Had I thee known a Greek, or that way given,
From this foul fault long since I had been driven.
I'd fled at distance, and a farre off feard
Thy pastbord stomacher and goodly Beard.
But these are all invisible in thee,
Invisible as is the Greek to me.
But since thou tell'st me it, Hold, take these Alms,
This Vers that wil scarce go, these with'red Palms.
To expiate my having been thy friend.
Had I thee known a Greek, or that way given,
From this foul fault long since I had been driven.
I'd fled at distance, and a farre off feard
Thy pastbord stomacher and goodly Beard.
But these are all invisible in thee,
Invisible as is the Greek to me.
But since thou tell'st me it, Hold, take these Alms,
This Vers that wil scarce go, these with'red Palms.
E. F.
| Electra of Sophocles | |