 | Iocasta |  |
154
Scena. iiij.
OEDIPVS.ANTIGONE. CHORVS.
Why dost thou call out of this darkesome denne,
The lustleste lodge of my lamenting yeres,
O daughter deare, thy fathers blinded eyes,
Into the light I was not worthy of?
Or what suche sight (O cruell destenie)
Without tormenting cares might I beholde,
That image am of deathe and not of man?
Anti.
O father mine, I bring vnluckie newes
Unto your eares, your sonnes are nowe both slayne,
Ne doth your wife, that wonted was to guyde
So piteously your staylesse stumbling steppes,
Now see this light, alas and welaway.
Oed
O heape of infinite calamities,
And canst thou yet encrease when I thought least
That any griefe more great could grow in thee?
But tell me yet, what kinde of cruell death
Had these three sory soules?
Anti
Without offence to speake, deare father mine,
The lucklesse lotte, the frowarde frowning fate
That gaue you life to ende your fathers life,
Haue ledde your sonnes to reaue eche others life.
Oed.
Of them I thought no lesse, but tell me yet
What causelesse death hath caught from me my deare,
(What shall I call hir) mother or my wife?
Ant.
When as my mother sawe hir deare sonnes dead,
As pensiue pangs had prest hir tender heart,
With bloudlesse cheekes and gastly lookes she fell,
Drawing the dagger from Eteocles side,
She gorde hirselfe with wide recurelesse wounde:
And thus, without mo words, gaue vp the ghost,
Embracing both hir sonnes with both hir armes.
155
By feare of death maynteines my dying life.
Cho.
This drearie day is cause of many euils,
Poore Oedipus, vnto thy progenie.
The Gods yet graunt it may become the cause
Of better happe to this afflicted realme.
| Iocasta | |