 | Hippolitus |  |
Actus Quarti.
Scena Prima.
Nuncius. Theseus.Nun.
O the sad Fate of Servants! Why am I
The messenger of our calamitie.
Th.
Speak thy news boldly; custom thou shalt find
For all afflictions hath prepard my mind.
Nun.
My tongue refuses the sad office.
The.
Say, What fresh
Mis-fortunes our declining house oppress?
39
Ah me, your Son is dead.
The.
I wept, my Son
Long since: now but a ravsher is gone.
But speak the manner.
Nun.
Why as he forsook
The City, painting hatred in his look,
Away he flieth with redoubled speed,
And quickly harnesses his lofty Steeds,
Their mettal'd heat, he with the curb allayes,
And divers things unto himself he sayes;
Curses your throne, oft on your name doth call
And fiercely shakes his slackned reins withall;
When suddenly the Sea did roar and swell
Up to the Stars; not any breathing gale
Did crispe the flouds; no thunder tore the air,
The Sea it self raised a tempest there.
Sicilian Seas are with the South-wind lesse
Disturb'd, nor half that fury doe express
When Chorus rains, stones tumbling up and down
And with white spume doth high Leucates crown.
A hill of waves big with a Monster fled
Unto the shore to be delivered.
Nor is this tempest for the ships prepar'd
But for the land, the Sea rolls thitherward
With a main speed; nor can we guesse what she
Should labour with; what uncouth Prodigie
Earth would shew Heaven, a new Cyclas did
Rise, Esculapius Temple now was hid,
And the famd rocks of Scyron, and with these
The land, straightned betwixt two neigh'bring Seas.
40
Doth roar, and all the rocks resound again;
Whose tops are sprinkled with the waves, which he
Sucks in, and spouteth forth Vicissively.
So through the Ocean as the whirlpool roams
A globe of water from his nostrils comes.
Anon this mountain bursts, and to the shore
Brings something worse, than was our fear before,
The Sea doth follow where the Monster lead,
And overwhelms the land, we shook with dread.
The.
What was the shape of this prodigious beast?
Nun.
He like a Bul erects his seagreen crest,
And virid front: tosses his mane, his ears
Pricks up, and party-coloured horns he bears:
Such as might both the conduct of the herd
Become, and the Seas Issues he appear'd:
His eies do sparkle, and he vomits flame:
His neck curl'd like the Ocean whence he came,
His open nostrils snort aloud: his chest
And deawlap in tenacious Moss are drest:
His ample sides with red are spotted, then
Ends in a Monster; his huge slimie train
Drag'd after him, in farthest Seas those Whales
Have such which swallow up the obvious sails.
Earth trembles with the load: astonish'd fly
The scatter'd cattle, nor are followed by
Th' affrighted Pastor, beasts the forrest clear;
And all the Huntsmen are half dead with fear.
Only Hippolitus unmov'd remains,
And his amazed Steeds with straighter reins,
Encourag'd by his wel-known voice retains.
And virid front: tosses his mane, his ears
Pricks up, and party-coloured horns he bears:
Such as might both the conduct of the herd
Become, and the Seas Issues he appear'd:
His eies do sparkle, and he vomits flame:
His neck curl'd like the Ocean whence he came,
His open nostrils snort aloud: his chest
And deawlap in tenacious Moss are drest:
His ample sides with red are spotted, then
Ends in a Monster; his huge slimie train
Drag'd after him, in farthest Seas those Whales
Have such which swallow up the obvious sails.
Earth trembles with the load: astonish'd fly
The scatter'd cattle, nor are followed by
Th' affrighted Pastor, beasts the forrest clear;
And all the Huntsmen are half dead with fear.
Only Hippolitus unmov'd remains,
And his amazed Steeds with straighter reins,
Encourag'd by his wel-known voice retains.
41
Tow'rds Argos lyes a steep and craggy way,
Which all the neighb'ring Ocean doth survey:
Here this vast bulk doth whet himself, and act
In jest first, what he doth intend in fact.
But when he felt his rage increase, and had
Now long enough with his own fury plaid;
Away he flies, scarce any print remains,
And just before the trembling chariot stands.
Your Son nere changeth colour, but doth rise
With angry looks, and thus aloud he cries;
I shall not easily be afraid of this;
To conquer Bulls hereditary is.
But straight his disobedient Steeds, their load
Did carry thence, and having mist the road
They follow'd as their fury lead, and ore
Uneven rocks the jolting Chariot bore.
He, as a skilfull Pilot taketh care
In a rough Sea to keep his Vessell fair,
And with his art beguiles the waves; doth guide
His horses, now he draws their mouths aside
With the strain'd bit, and now the scourge he uses;
Nor all the way his foul companion loses:
Now side by side, he keeps an equall pace:
Now right before; and terror brings each wayes.
But here the flight doth end; just in the way
Standeth the horned Monster of the Sea.
Th' affrighted Steeds then lost all rule, and strove
To run down headlong from the rocks above;
Rising before they cast your Son, who, as
He fell, within the reins entangled was,
Which wound about his body, and the more
He struggled held him faster then before.
They with the empty Chariot run, this known
As their fear guides; commanded now by none
So feeling a strange weight, and scorning that
Day was committed to a counterfeit,
Hurried through the air, the Chariot of the Sun
Shook from his seat the unskilfull Phaeton
His blood besmears the fields: his head the rocks
Doth beat, and Brambles tear away his locks;
Sharp stones dis-figure his fair face, and by
Whole troops of wounds, his hapless form destroy.
The swift wheels drag, his dying limbs at last
His corps on an erected stake is fast.
Struck through the middle of his groin, a while
He staid his chariot fixed on a pile;
His steeds made a short halt, but quickly they
At once both broke their Master, and delay.
Then briers and thorns his half-dead body tear,
And evr'y bush, a piece of him doth weare.
His wofull servants are disper'st to find,
Where his bloud marks the way, he thus dis-joynd
Hippolitus; the howling Beagles goe
In guest of their dissever'd Master too.
Nor all their diligence as yet compleats,
The Corps, is this the honour beautie gets?
Who now, Partner, and heir unto a Crown,
As bright as any Constellation shone;
Is gather'd to his Urn in peeces now
O Nature, but too prevalent art thou.
What tyes of bloud dost thou on Parents lay,
Which we, even against our wills, obey!
Whom dead I wish'd, now dead I weep for,
Which all the neighb'ring Ocean doth survey:
Here this vast bulk doth whet himself, and act
In jest first, what he doth intend in fact.
But when he felt his rage increase, and had
Now long enough with his own fury plaid;
Away he flies, scarce any print remains,
And just before the trembling chariot stands.
Your Son nere changeth colour, but doth rise
With angry looks, and thus aloud he cries;
I shall not easily be afraid of this;
To conquer Bulls hereditary is.
But straight his disobedient Steeds, their load
Did carry thence, and having mist the road
They follow'd as their fury lead, and ore
Uneven rocks the jolting Chariot bore.
He, as a skilfull Pilot taketh care
In a rough Sea to keep his Vessell fair,
And with his art beguiles the waves; doth guide
His horses, now he draws their mouths aside
With the strain'd bit, and now the scourge he uses;
Nor all the way his foul companion loses:
Now side by side, he keeps an equall pace:
Now right before; and terror brings each wayes.
But here the flight doth end; just in the way
Standeth the horned Monster of the Sea.
Th' affrighted Steeds then lost all rule, and strove
To run down headlong from the rocks above;
Rising before they cast your Son, who, as
He fell, within the reins entangled was,
42
He struggled held him faster then before.
They with the empty Chariot run, this known
As their fear guides; commanded now by none
So feeling a strange weight, and scorning that
Day was committed to a counterfeit,
Hurried through the air, the Chariot of the Sun
Shook from his seat the unskilfull Phaeton
His blood besmears the fields: his head the rocks
Doth beat, and Brambles tear away his locks;
Sharp stones dis-figure his fair face, and by
Whole troops of wounds, his hapless form destroy.
The swift wheels drag, his dying limbs at last
His corps on an erected stake is fast.
Struck through the middle of his groin, a while
He staid his chariot fixed on a pile;
His steeds made a short halt, but quickly they
At once both broke their Master, and delay.
Then briers and thorns his half-dead body tear,
And evr'y bush, a piece of him doth weare.
His wofull servants are disper'st to find,
Where his bloud marks the way, he thus dis-joynd
Hippolitus; the howling Beagles goe
In guest of their dissever'd Master too.
Nor all their diligence as yet compleats,
The Corps, is this the honour beautie gets?
Who now, Partner, and heir unto a Crown,
As bright as any Constellation shone;
Is gather'd to his Urn in peeces now
O Nature, but too prevalent art thou.
43
Which we, even against our wills, obey!
Whom dead I wish'd, now dead I weep for,
Nun.
None.
Enough can weep, for what themselves have done.
The.
Mortals abide no greater curse, than when
Constrain'd to wish what they unwish agen.
Nun.
Why do you weep, if you retain your hate?
The.
Not that he's dead, but that I caus'd his fate.
Exeunt.
CHORUS.
How fickle is the state of man! the poor
Doe not the fiercest storms of chance endure;
She strikes them with her lightest stroaks, they be
Crownd with content though in obscuritie;
A homely cottage doth the eyelids close
With a secure and undisturb'd repose.
Those lofty towers neer neighbours to the skie
Receive the East and South-winds battery;
The rage of the tempestuous Boreas, and
The showr-accommpanied Chorus stand.
The humble valley is but rarely strook
With thunder, when great Caucasus hath shook
And Ida trembled. Jove himself afraid
Of the seal'd heavens, hath earth his refuge made.
Plain homely roofs, and vulgar habitations
Have no extraordinary alterations,
When Kingdoms totter, on their craz'd foundations
Fortune doth flie with an uncertain wing,
And none can boast he hath her in a string.
Doe not the fiercest storms of chance endure;
She strikes them with her lightest stroaks, they be
Crownd with content though in obscuritie;
A homely cottage doth the eyelids close
With a secure and undisturb'd repose.
Those lofty towers neer neighbours to the skie
Receive the East and South-winds battery;
The rage of the tempestuous Boreas, and
The showr-accommpanied Chorus stand.
The humble valley is but rarely strook
With thunder, when great Caucasus hath shook
And Ida trembled. Jove himself afraid
Of the seal'd heavens, hath earth his refuge made.
Plain homely roofs, and vulgar habitations
Have no extraordinary alterations,
When Kingdoms totter, on their craz'd foundations
Fortune doth flie with an uncertain wing,
And none can boast he hath her in a string.
44
He who redeemed from eternall night
Again enjoyes the comfort of the light,
Now weepeth his return from Hell, and here
Meeteth a greater cause of grief than there.
Again enjoyes the comfort of the light,
Now weepeth his return from Hell, and here
Meeteth a greater cause of grief than there.
Pallas, whom we to reverence are bound
That Theseus free'd from the Stygian sound
Again reveiws the Heav'ns; chaste Virgin thou
Art not beholding to thy Uncle now:
The greedy Tyrant hath his number still.
That Theseus free'd from the Stygian sound
Again reveiws the Heav'ns; chaste Virgin thou
Art not beholding to thy Uncle now:
The greedy Tyrant hath his number still.
What voice of weepings this? what bloody Scene
With a drawn sword prepares the frantick Queen.
With a drawn sword prepares the frantick Queen.
Finis Actus Quinti.
| Hippolitus | |