University of Virginia Library

Scena 1.

TYRESIAS.
CREON. MANTO. MENECEVS. SACERDOS.
Thou trustie guide of my so trustlesse steppes
Deer daughter mine go we, lead thou ye way,
That since the day I first did leese this light
Thou only art the light of these mine eyes:
And for thou knowst I am both old & weake
And euer longing after louely rest,
Derect my steppes amyd the playnest pathes,
That so my febled feete may feele lest paine.
Meneceus thou gentle childe, tell me,
Is it farre hence, the place where we must goe,
Where as thy father for my comming stayes?
For like vnto the slouthfull snayle I drawe,
Deare sonne, with paine these aged legges of mine,
Creon returneth be the gates Homoloydes.
And though my minde be quicke, scarce can I moue.

Cre.
Comfort thy selfe deuine, Creon thy frend
Loe standeth here, and came to meete with thee
To ease the payne that thou mightest else sustaine.
“For vnto elde eche trauell yeldes annoy:
And thou his daughter and his faithfull guide,
Loe rest him here, and rest thou there withall
Thy virgins hands, that in sustayning him
Doest well acquite the duetie of a childe.
“For crooked age and hory siluer heares
“Still craueth helpe of lustie youthfull yeares.

Tyr.
Gramercie Lord, what is your noble will?

Cre.
What I would haue of thee Tyresias
Is not a thing so soone for to be sayde,
But rest a whyle thy weake and weary limmes
And take some breath now after wearie walke,
And tell I pray thee, what this crowne doth meane,
That sits so kingly on thy skilfull heade?

Tyr.
Know this, that for I did with graue aduise,
Foretell the Citizens of Athens towne,
How they might best with losse of litle bloude,
Haue victories against their enimies,
Hath bene the cause why I doe weare this Crowne,
As right rewarde and not vnmeete for me.

Cre.
So take I then this thy victorious crowne,
For our auaile in token of good lucke,
That knowest, how the discord and debate
Which late is fallen betwene these brethren twaine,
Hath brought all Thebes in daunger and in dreade.
Eteocles our king, with threatning armes,
Is gone against his greekish enemies,
Commaunding me to learne of thee (who arte
A true deuine of things that be to come)
What were for vs the safest to be done,
From perill now our country to preserue.

Tyr.
Long haue I bene within the towne of Thebes,
Since that I tyed this trustie toung of mine
From telling truth, fearing Eteocles:
Yet, since thou doest in so great neede desire
I should reueale things hidden vnto thee,
For common cause of this our common weale,
I stand content to pleasure thee herein.
But first, that to this mightie God of yours
There might some worthy sacrifice be made,
Let kill the fairest goate that is in Thebes,
Within whose bowells when the Preest shall loke,
And tell to me what he hath there espyed,
I trust t'aduyse thee what is best to doen.

Cre.
Lo here the temple, and ere long I looke
To see the holy preest that hither cōmes,
Bringing with him the pure and faire offrings,
Which thou requirest, for not long since, I sent
For him, as one that am not ignorant
Of all your rytes and sacred ceremonyes:
He went to choose amid our herd of goates,
The fattest there: and loke where now he commes.

Sacerdos accompanyed vvith .xvj. bacchanales and all his rytes and ceremonies entreth by the gates Homoloydes.
Sacer.
O famous Citizens, that holde full deare
Your quiet country: Loe where I doe come
Most ioyfully, with wonted sacrifice,
So to beseeche the supreme Citizens,
To stay our state that staggringly do stand,
And plant vs peace where warre and discord growes:
Wherfore, with harte deuoute and humble cheere,
Whiles I breake vp the bowels of this beast,
That oft thy vyneyarde Bacchus hath destroyed,
Let euery wight craue pardon for his faultes,
With bending knee about his aultars here.

Tyr.
Take here the salte, and sprinckle therwithall
About the necke, that done, cast all the rest
Into the sacred fire, and then annoynte
The knife prepared for the sacrifice.
O mightie Ioue, preserue the precious gifte
That thou me gaue, when first thine angrie Queene,
For deepe disdayne did both mine eyes do out,
Graunt me, I may foretell the truth in this,
For, but by thee, I know that I ne may,
Ne will ne can, out trustie sentence say,

Sa.
This due is done.

Tyr.
With knife then stick ye kid.

Sac.
Thou daughter of deuine Tyresias,
With those vnspotted virgins hands of thine
Receiue the bloude within this vessell here,
And then deuoutly it to Bacchus yelde.

Man.
O holy God of Thebes, that doest both praise
Swete peace, and doest in hart also disdayne
The noysome noyse, the furies and the fight
Of bloudie Mars and of Bellona both:
O thou the giuer both of ioy and health,
Receyue in gree and with well willing hand
These holy whole brunt offrings vnto thee,
And as this towne doth wholy thee adore,
So by thy helpe do graunt that it may stand
Safe from the enmyes outrage euermore.

Sac.
Now in thy sacred name I bowell here
This sacrifice.

Tyre.
And what entralls hath it?

Sac.
Faire and welformed all in euery poynt,
The liuer cleane, the hart is not infect,
Saue loe, I finde but onely one hart string
By which I finde somwhat I wote nere what,
That seemes corrupt, and were not onely that,
In all the rest, they are both sounde and hole.

Tyr.
Now cast at once into the holy flame
The swete incense, and then aduertise mee
What hew it beares, and euery other ryte
That ought may helpe the truth for to coniecte.

Sac.
I see the flames doe sundrie colours cast,
Now bloudy sanguine, straight way purple, blew,
Some partes seeme blacke, some gray, and some be greene.

Tyr.
Stay there, suffyseth this for to haue seene,
Know Creon, that these outward seemely signes
By that the Gods haue let me vnderstand
Who vnderstandeth al and seeth secrete things,
Betokeneth that the Citie great of Thebes
Shall Uictor be against the Greekish host,
If so consent be giuen, but more than this
I lyst not say:

Cre.
Alas for curtesie
Say on Tyresias, neuer haue respect
To any liuing man, but tell the truth.

Sacerdos returneth vvith the Bacchan by the gates homoloides.
Sac.
In this meane while I will returne with speede
From whence I came, for lawfull is it not,
That suche as I should heare your secretnesse.

Tyr
Contrary then to that which I haue sayde,
The incest foule, and childbirth monstruous
Of Iocasta, so stirres the wrath of Ioue,
This citie shall with bloudy channels swimme,
And angry Mars shall ouercome it all
With famine, flame, rape, murther, dole and death:
These lustie towres shall haue a headlong fall,
These houses burnde, and all the rest be rasde,
And soone be sayde, here whilome Thebes stoode.
One onely way I finde for to escape,
Which bothe would thee displease to heare it tolde,
And me to tell percase were perillous.
Thee therfore with my trauell I commende
To Ioue, and with the rest I will endure,
What so shall chaunce for our aduersitie.

Cre.
Yet stay a whyle.

Tyr.
Creon make me not stay
By force.

Cre.
Why fleest thou?

Tyr.
Syr 'tis not frō thee
I flee, but from this fortune foule and fell.

Cre.
Yet tell me what behoues the citie doe?

Tyr.
Thou Creon seemest now desirous still
It to preserue: but if as well as I
Thou knewest that which is to thee vnknowne,
Then wouldste thou not so soone consent therto.

Cre.
And would not I with eagre minde desire
The thing that may for Thebes ought auayle?

Tyr.
And dost thou then so instantly request
To know which way thou mayest the same preserue?

Cre.
For nothing else I sent my sonne of late
To seeke for thee.

Tyr.
Then will I satisfie
Thy greedie minde in this: but first tell me,
Menetius where is he?

Cre.
Not farre from me.

Tyr.
I pray thee sende him out some other where.

Cre.
Why wouldest thou that he should not he here?

Tyr.
I would not haue him heare what I should say.

Cre.
He is my sonne, ne will he it reueale.

Tyr.
And shall I then while he is present speake?

Cre.
Yea, be thou sure that he no lesse than I,
Doth wishe full well vnto this common weale.

Tyr.
Then Creon shalt thou knowe: the meane to saue
This Citie, is, that thou shalt slea thy sonne,
And of his bodie make a sacrifice
For his Countrey: lo heere is all you seeke
So muche to knowe, and since you haue me forst
To tell the thing that I would not haue tolde,
If I haue you offended with my words,
Blame then your selfe, and eke your frowarde fate.

Cre.
cruell words, oh, oh, what hast thou sayde,
Thou cruell southsayer?

Tyr.
Euen that, that heauen
Hath ordeined once, and needes it must ensue.

Cre.
Howe many euils hast thou knit vp in one?

Tyr.
Though euill for thee, yet for thy countrey good.

Cre.
And let my countrey perishe, what care I?

“Tyr.
Aboue all things we ought to holde it deare.

Cre.
Cruell were he, that would not loue his childe.

“Tyr.
For cōmō weale, were well, that one man waile.

Cre.
To loose mine owne, I liste none other saue.

“Tyr.
Best Citizens care least for priuate gayne.

Cre.
Departe, for nowe, with all thy prophecies.

“Tyr.
Lo, thus the truthe dothe alwayes hatred get.

Cre.
Yet pray I thee by these thy siluer heares,

“Tyr.
The harme that cōmes from heauen can not be scapt.

Cre.
And by thy holy spirite of prophecie,

“Tyr.
What heauen hath done, that can not I vndoe.

Cre.
That to no moe this secrete thou reueale.

Tyr.
And wouldst thou haue me learne to make a lye?

Cre.
I pray thee holde thy peace.

Tyr.
That will I not:
But in thy woe to yeelde thee some reliefe,
I tell thee once, thou shalt be Lorde of Thebes,
Which happe of thine this string did well declare,
Which from the heart doth out alonely growe.
So did the peece corrupted playnly shewe,
An argument most euident to proue
Thy sonne his death.

Cre.
Well, yet be thou content
To keepe full close this secrete hidden griefe.

Tyr.
I neither ought, ne will keepe it so close.

Cre.
Shall I be then the murtherer of mine owne?

Tyr.
Ne blame not me, but blame the starres for this.

Cre.
Can heauens condemne but him alone to dye?

Tyr.
We ought beleeue the cause is good and iust.

“Cre.
Uniust is he condemnes the innocent.

“Tyr.
A foole is he accuseth heauens of wrongs.

“Cre.
There can no ill thing come from heauēs aboue.

Tyr.
Then this that heauen commaunds can not be ill.

Cre.
I not beleeue that thou hast talkt with God.

Tyr.
Bicause I tell thee that doth thee displease.

Cre.
Out of my sight accursed lying wretche.

Tyr.
Go daughter go, oh what a foole is he
That puts in vre to publishe prophecies?
“For if he do foretell a frowarde fate,
“Though it be true, yet shall he purchase hate:
“And if he silence keepe, or hide the truth,
“The heauy wrath of mightie Gods ensuth.
Apollo he might well tell things to come,
That had no dread the angry to offende:
But hye we daughter hence some other way.

Tyresias vvith Manto his daughter, returneth by the gates called Electræ.