University of Virginia Library

THE SECONDE ACTE.

Atreus.
Seruaunt
O dastard , cowrde, O wretche, and (which the greatest yet of all
To Tyrantes checke I compte that maye in waighty thinges befall)
O vnreuenged: after guyltes so great and brothers guyle,
And trewth trode downe dost thou prouoke with vayne complaynts the whyle
Thy wrath? already now to rage all Argos towne throughout
In armoure ought of thyne, and all the double seas about
Thy fleete to ryde: now all the fieldes with feruent flames of thyne,
And townes to flash it wel beseemde: and euery where to shyne,
The bright drawne sword: all vnder foote of horse let euery syde
Of Argos lande resound: and let the woundes not serue to hyde
Our foes, nor yet in haughty top of hilles and mountaynes hye,
The builded towers. The people all let them to battel crye
And clere forsake Mycenas towne who so his hateful head
Hides and defendes, with slaughter dire let bloud of him be shed.
This princely Pelops palace proude, and bowres of high renowne,
On mee so on my brother to let them be beaten downe,
Go to, do that which neuer shall no after age allow,
Nor none it whisht: some mischefe greate ther must be ventred now,
Both fierce and bloudy: such as woulde my brother rather long
To haue bene his. Thou neuer dost enough reuenge the wronge,
Exept thou passe. And feercer fact what may be done so dyre,
That his exceedes? doth euer he lay downe his hateful yre?
Doth euer he the modest meane in tyme of wealth regard
Or quiet in aduersity? I know his nature harde
Untractable, that broke may be, but neuer wil it bend.
For which ere he prepare himselfe, or force to fight entend,
Set fyrst on him, least while I rest he should on me aryse.
He wil destroy or be destroyd in midst the mischiefe lyes,
Prepard to him that takes it first,

Ser.
Doth some of people naught
Aduerse thee feare?

Atre.
The greatest good of kingdom may be thought
That still the people are constraynd their princes deedes as well
To prayse, as them to suffer all.

Ser.
Whom feare doth so compell
To prayse, the same his foes to bee, doth feare enforce agayne:
But who indeede the glory seekes of fauour trew t'obtayne
He rather would with hates of each be praysd, then tounges of all

Atre.
The trewer prayse ful oft hath hapt to meaner men to fall:
The false but vnto myghty man what nill they let them will.

Ser.
Let first the king will honest thinges and none the same dare nill.

Atre.
Where leeful are to him that rules but honest thinges alone,
There raynes the kyng by others leaue.

Ser.
And wher ye shame is none,
Nor care of ryght, fayth, piety, nor holines none stayeth,
That kingdome swarues.

Atre.
Such holines, such piety and fayth,
Are priuate goods: let kinges runne one in that that likes their will.

Ser.
The brothers hurt a mischiefe count though he be nere so ill.

Atre.
It is but right to do to hym, that wrong to brother were.
What heynous hurt hath his offence let passe to proue? or where
Refraynd the gylt, my spouse he stale away for lechery,
And raygne by stelth: the auncient note and sygne of impery,
By frawde he got: my house by fraud to vexe he neuer ceast:
In Pelops house there fostred is a noble worthy beast
The close kept Ramme: the goodly guyde of rych and fayrest flockes.
By whom throughout on euery syde depend adowne the lockes
Of glittering gold, with fleece of which the new kinges wonted were
Of Tantals stocke their sceptors gylt, and mace of might to beare.
Of this the owner raygneth he, with him of house so great
The fortune fleeth, this sacred Ramme aloofe in safety shet
In secret mead is wont to grase, which stone on euery syde
With rocky wall incloseth rounde the fatall beast to hyde.
This beast (aduentryng mischiefe greate) adioyning yet for pray
My spoused mate, the traytour false hath hence conuayde away
From hence the wrongs of mutuall hate, and mischiefe all vpsprong:
In exile wandred he throughout my kingdomes all along:
No part of myne remayneth safe to mee, from traynes of hys.
My feere deflourde, and loyalty of empyre broken is:
My house all vext, my bloud in doubt, and naught that trust is in,
But brother foe What stayst thou yet? at length lo now beginne.
Take hart of Tantalus to thee, to Pelops cast thyne eye:
To such examples well beseemes, I should my hand applye.
Tell thou which way were best to bring that cruell head to death.

Ser.
Through perst wt sword let him be slayne & yelde his hatefull breath.

Atre.
Thou speak'st of th'end: but I him would opres wt greter payne.
Let tyrants vexe with torment more: should euer in my rayne
Be gentle death?

Ser.
Doth piety in thee preuayle no whit?

Atre.
Depart thou hence all piety, if in this house as yet
Thou euer wert: and now let all the flocke of furies dyre,
And full of strife Erinnis come, and double brands of fyre
Megæra shaking: for not yet enough with fury great
And rage doth burne my boyling brest: it ought to bee repleate,
With monster more.

Ser.
What mischiefe new do'ste thou in rage prouide?

Atre.
Not such a one as may the meane of woonted griefe abide.
No guilt will I forbeare, nor none may be enough despight.

Ser.
What sword?

Atr.
To litle that.

Ser.
what fire?

Atr.
And yt is yet to light

Ser.
What weapon then shall sorrow such finde fit to worke thy will?

Atr.
Thyestes selfe.

Ser.
Then yre it selfe yet that's a greater ill.

Atr.
I graunt: a tombling tumult quakes, within my bosomes loe,
And rounde it rolles: I moued am and wote not wherevnto.
But drawen I am: from bottome deepe the roryng soyle doth cry
The day so fayre with thunder soundes, and house as all from hy
Were rent, from roofe, and rafters crakes: and lares turnde abought
Haue wryde theyr sight: so bee'te, so bee'te, let mischiefe such be sought,
As yee O Gods would feare.

Ser.
What thing seek'st thou to bring to pas
I note what greater thing my mynde, and more then woont it was

Atre.
Aboue the reache that men are woont to worke, begins to swell:
And stayth with slouthfull hands What thinge it is I cannot tell:
But great it is. Bee'te so, my mynde now in this feate proceede,
For Atreus and Thyestes bothe, it were a worthy deede.
Let eche of vs the crime commit. The Thracian house did see
Such wicked tables once: I graunt the mischiefe great to bee,
But done ere this: some greater guilt and mischiefe more, let yre
Fynde out. The stomacke of thy sonne O father thou enspyre,
And syster eke, like is the cause: assist me with your powre,
And dryue my hand: let greedy parents all his babes deuowre,
And glad to rent his children bee: and on their lyms to feede.
Enough, and well it is deuis'de: this pleaseth me in deede.
In meane time where is he? so long and innocent wherefore
Doth Atreus walke? before myne eyes alredy more and more
The shade of such a slaughter walkes: the want of children cast,
In fathers Iawes. But why my mynde, yet dreadst thou so at lost,
And faint'st before thou enterprise? it must bee done, let bee,
That which in all this mischiefe is the greatest guilt to see,
Let him commit.

Ser.
but what disceit may wee, for him prepare,
Whereby betrapt he may be drawne, to fall into the snare?
He wotes full well we are his foes.

Atre.
He could not taken bee,
Except himselfe woulde take: but now my kingdomes hopeth hee.
For hope of this he woulde not feare to meete the mighty Ioue,
Though him he threatned to destroy, with lightning from aboue.
For hope of this to passe the threats of waues he will not fayle,
Nor dread no whit by doubtfull shelues, of Lybike seas to sayle,
For hope of this (which thing he doth the woorst of all beleeue,)
He will his brother see.

Ser.
Who shall of peace the promise geeue?
Whom will he trust?

Atre.
His euill hope will soone beleue it well.
Yet to my sonnes the charge which they shall to theyr vnckle tell,
We will commit: that whom he would from exile come agayne,
And myseries for kingdome chaunge, and ouer Argos reygne
A king of halfe: and though to hard of heart our prayers all
Him selfe despise, his children yet nought woting what may fall,
With trauels tier'de, and apte to be entys'de from misery,
Requests will moue: on th'one side his desyre of Imperie,
On th'other syde his pouerty, and labour hard to see,
Will him subdue and make to yeelde, although full stoute he bee.

Sea.
His trauayles now the time hath made to seeme to him but small.

Atr.
Not so: for day by day the griefe of ill encreaseth all.
T'is light to suffer miseries, but heauy them t'endure.

Ser.
Yet other messengers to send, in such affayres procure,

Atr.
The yonger sorte the wrose precepts do easely harken to.

Ser.
What thing agaynst their vnckle now, you them enstruckt to do,
Perhaps with you to worke the like, they will not be a dread.
Such mischiefe wrought hath oft return'de vpon the workers head.

Atre.
Though neuer man to thē the wayes of guile & guilt haue taught,
Yet kingdome will. Fear'st thou they should be made by coūsel naught?
They are so borne. That which thou cal'ste a cruell enterpryse,
And dyrely deemest doone to be, and wickedly likewise,
Perhaps is wrought agaynst me there.

Ser.
And shall your sons of this
Disceipt beware that worke you will? no secretnes there is
In theyr so greene and tender yeares: they will your traynes disclose,

Atre.
A priuy counsell cloase to keepe, is learnde with many woes.

Ser.
And will yee them, by whom yee woulde he should beguiled bee,
Themselues beguil'de?

At.
Nay let thē both from fault & blame be free.
For what shall neede in mischiefes such as I to woorke entende,
To mingle them? let all my hate by mee alone take ende.
Thou leau'ste thy purpose ill my mynde: if thou thine owne forbeare,
Thou sparest him. Wherefore of this let Agamemnon heare
Be mynister: and Client eke of myne for such a deede,
Let Menelâus present bee: truth of th'uncertayne seede,
By such a pracktise may be tri'de: if it refuse they shall,
Nor of debate will bearers be, if they him vnckle call,
He is their father: let them goe. But much the fearefull face
Bewrayes it selfe: euen him that faynes the secret wayghty case,
Doth oft betray: let them therefore not know, how great a guyle
They goe about. And thou these things in secret keepe the whyle.

Ser.
I neede not warned bee, for these within my bosome deepe,
Both fayth, and feare, but chiefely fayth, doth shet and closely kepe.

Chorus.
The noble house at length of high renowne,
The famous stocke of auncient Inachus,
Apeasd & layd the threats of brethrē down
But nowe what fury styrs & driues you thus
Eche one to thyrst the others bloud agayne,
Or get by guylt the golden Mace in hande?
Yee litle wote that so desyre to raygne,
In what estate or place doth kyngdome stande.
Not ritches makes a kyng or high renowne,
Not garnisht weede wyth purple Tyrian die,
Not lofty lookes, or head encloasde with crowne,
Not glyttring beames with golde and turrets hie.
A Kyng he is that feare hath layde aside,
And all affects that in the breast are bred:
VVhom impotent ambition doth not guide,
Nor fickle fauour hath of people led.
Nor all that west in mettalls mynes hath founde,
Or chanell cleere of golden Tagus showes,
Nor all the grayne that thresshed is on grounde,
That with the heate of libyk haruest glowes.
Nor whom the flasshe of lightning flame shall beate,
Nor eastern wynde that smightes vpon the seas,
Nor swelling surge with rage of vvynde repleate,
Or greedy Gulphe of Adria displease.
VVhom not the pricke of Souldiers sharpest speare,
Or poyncted pyke in hand hath made to rue,
Nor whom the glympse of swoorde myght cause to feare,
Or bright drawen blade of glyttring steele subdue.
VVho in the seate of safty sets his feete,
Beholdes all haps how vnder him they lye,
And gladly runnes his fatall day to meete,
Nor ought complaynes or grudgeth for to dye.
Though present vvere the Prynces euerychone,
The scattered Dakes to chase that vvonted bee,
That shyning seas beset with precious stone,
And red sea coastes doe holde, lyke bloud to see:
Or they vvhich els the Caspian mountaynes hye,
From Sarmats strong with all theyr power vvithholde:
Or hee that on the floude of Danubye,
In frost a foote to trauayle dare bee bolde:
Or Seres in vvhat euer place they lye,
Renownde with fleece that there of sylke doth spring,
They neuer might the truth hereof denye,
It is the mynde that onely makes a king.
There is no neede of sturdie steedes in warre,
No neede with armes or arrowes ells to fight,
That Parthus woonts with bowe to fling from farre,
VVhyle from the fielde hee falsely fayneth flight.
Nor yet to siege no neede it is to bringe
Great Guns in Carts to ouerthrowe the wall,
That from farre of theyr battring Pellets slyng.
A kyng hee is that feareth nought at all.
Eche man him selfe this kyngdome geeues at hand.
Let who so lyst with mighty mace to raygne,
In tyckle toppe of court delight to stand
Let mee the sweete and quiet rest obtayne.
So set in place obscure and lowe degree,
Of pleasaunt rest I shall the sweetnesse knoe.
My lyfe vnknowne to them that noble bee,
Shall in the steppe of secret sylence goe.
Thus when my dayes at length are ouer past,
And tyme without all troublous tumult spent,
An aged man I shall depart at last,
In meane estate, to dye full well content.
But greeuous is to him the death, that when
So farre abroade the bruite of him is blowne,
That knowne hee is to much to other men:
Departeth yet vnto him selfe vnknowne.