University of Virginia Library

THE THYRDE ACTE.

Thyestes,
Phylisthenes
My countrey bowres so long wisht for, and Argos rytches all,
Chiefe good that vnto banisht men, and Mysers may befall,
The touch of soyle where born I was, & gods of natiue lād,
(If gods they be,) & sacred towres I see of Cycolps hād:
That represent then all mans woorke, a greater maiesty.
Renowned studies to my youth, where noble sometime I
Hiue not so seelde as once, the palme in fathers chariot woon.
All Argos now to meete with me, and people fast will roon:
But Atreus to. yet rather leade in woods agayne thy flight,
And bushes thicke, and hid among the brutyshe beastes from sight,
Lyke lyfe to theyrs: where splendent pompe of court & princely pryde,
May not with flattring fulgent face, allure thine eyes aside
With whom the kingdome geuen is, behold, and well regarde,
Beset but late with such mishaps, as all men counte full harde,
I stoute and ioyfull was: but now agayne thus into feare
I am returne. my mynde misdoubtes, and backeward seekes to beare
My body hence: and forthe I draw my pace agaynst my will.

Phy.
With slouthfull step (what meaneth this?) my father stādeth still,
And turnes his face and holdes him selfe, in doubt what thing to do.

Thy.
What thing (my minde) considrest thou? or els so long whereto
Do'st thou so easie counsayle wrest? wilt thou to thinges vnsure
Thy brother and the kingdome trust? fearst thou those ills t'endure
Now ouercome, and mielder made? and trauayls do'st thou flee
That well were plaste? it thee auayls, a myser now to bee.
Turne hence thy pace while leefull is, and keepe thee from his hande.

Phy.
What cause thee driues (O father deere) thus rō thy natiue lande,
Now seene to shrynk? what makes thee thus frō things so good at last
Withdrawe thy selfe? thy brother comes whose ires be ouerpast,
And halfe the kyngdome geues, and of the house Dylacerate,
Repayres the partes: and thee restores agayne to former state.

Thy.
The cause of feare that I know not, thou do'st require to heare.
I see nothing that makes mee dread, and yet I greatly feare.
I would goe on, but yet my limmes with weary legges doe slacke:
And other way then I would passe, I am withholden backe.
So oft the ship that driuen is with wynde and eke with Ore,
The swelling surge resisting both beares backe vpon the shore.

Phy.
Yet ouercome what euer stayes, and thus doth let your mynde,
And see what are at your returne, prepar'de for you to finde.
You may O father raygne.

Thy.
I may but then when die I mought.

P.
Chiefe thing is powre.

T.
nought worth at al, if thou desyre it nought.

P.
You shall it to your children leaue.

T.
the kingdome takes not twayne,

Phy.
Who may be happy, rather would he myser yet remayne?

Thy.
Beleue me well, with titles false the great thinges vs delight:
And heauy haps in vayne are fearde. while high I stoode in sight,
I neuer stinted then to quake, and selfe same sworde to feare,
That hanged by myne owne side was. Oh how great good it were,
With none to striue, but careles foode to care and rest to knowe?
The greater gyltes they enter not in cotage set alowe.
And safer foode is fed vpon, at narrowe boorde alway,
While drunke in golde the poyson is by proofe well taught I say,
That euill haps before the good to loue it likes my will.
Of haughty house that standes aloft in tickle top of hyll,
And swayes asyde, the cyty lowe neede neuer be affright:
Nor in the top of roofe aboue, there shynes no Iuery bright,
For watchman noue defendes my sleepes by night, or gardes my rest:
With fleete I fishe not, nor the sees I haue not backwarde prest,
Nor turn'de to flight with builded wall: nor wicked belly I
With taxes of the people fed: nor parcell none doth lie,
Of ground of myne beyonde the Getes: and Parthians farre about:
Nor worshiped with frankinsence I am, nor (Ioue shet out)
My Aulters decked are: nor none in top of house doth stande
In garden treese, nor kindled yet with helpe of eche mans hande,
The bathes doe smoake: nor yet are dayes in slouthfull slumbers led,
Nor nightes past forth in watche and wyne, without the rest of bed,
Wee nothing feare, the house is safe without the hidden knyfe,
And poore estate the sweetenes feeles, of rest and quiet lyfe.
Greate kindome is to be content, without the same to lyue.

Phy.
Yet should is not refused be, if God the kingdome giue.

Thy.
Not yet desierd it ought to be.

Phy.
your brother byds you rayne.

Thy.
Bids he? the more is to be fearde: there lurketh there some trayne.

Phy.
From whence it fell, yet piety is woont to turne at length:
And loue vnfaynde, repayres agayne his erst omitted strength.

Thy.
Doth Atreus then his brother loue? eche Vrsa fyrst on hye,
The Seas shall washe. and swelling surge of Seas of Sicylye
Shall rest and all asswaged be: and corne to rypenes growe
In bottome of Ionian seas, and darkest night shall showe
And spreade the light about the soyle: the waters with the fyre,
The lyfe with death, the wynde with seas, shall friendship first requyre,
And be at league.

Phy.
of what deceipte are you so dreadfull here?

Thy.
Of euerychone: what ende at length might I prouide of feare?
In all he can he hateth me.

Phy.
to you what hurt can he?

Thy.
As for my selfe I nothing dread you litle Babes make mee
Afrayde of him.

Phy.
dread, yee to be beguilde when caught yee are:
To late it is to shoon the trayne in middle of the snare.
But goe we on, this (father) is to you my last request.

Thy.
I follow you. I leade you not.

Phy.
God turne it to the best
That well deuised is for good: passe farth with cherefull pace.

THE SECOND SCENE.

Atreus,
Thyestes.
Entrapt in trayne the beast is caught and in the snare doth fall:
Both him, and eke of hated stocke with him the ofspryng all,
About the fathers syde I see: and nowe in saufety stands
And surest ground my wrathfull hate: nowe comes into my hands
At length Thyestes: yea hee comes and all at once to mee.
I scant refrayne my selfe, and scant may anger brydled bee.
So when the Bloudhound seekes the beast, by step and quick of sent
Drawes in the leame, and pace by pace to wynde the wayes hee went,
With nose to soyle doth hunt, while he the Boare aloofe hath founde
Farre of by sent, he yet refraynes and wanders through the grounde
With silent mouth: but when at hand he once perceiues the pray,
With all the strength he hath he striues, with voyce and calls away
His lingring maister, and from him by force out breaketh hee.
When Ire doth hope the present bloud, it may not hydden bee.
Yet let it hydden be. beholde with vgly hayre to sight
How yrkesomely deform'de with filthe his fowlest face is dight,
How lothsome lyes his Bearde vnkempt: but let vs friendship fayne.
To see my brother me delights: geue now to me agayne
Embracing long desyred for: what euer stryfe there was
Before this time betwene vs twayne, forget and let it pas:
Fro this day forth let brothers loue, let bloud, and lawe of kinde
Regarded be, let all debate be slakte in eythers mynde.

Thy.
I coulde excuse my selfe, except thou wert as now thou art.
But (Atreus) now I graunt, the faulte was myne in euery part:
And I offended haue in all, my cause the worse to bee,
Your this dayes kindnes makes: in deede a guilty wight is hee,
That would so good a brother hurt as you, in any whit.
But now with teares I must entreate, and first I me submit.
These handes that at thy feete doe lye, doe thee beseeche and pray,
That yre and hate be layde aside, and from thy bosome may
Be scraped out: and cleere forgot for pledges take thou these
O brother deere, these guiltles babes.

Atr.
thy hands yet from my kneese
Remoue, and rather me to take in armes, vpon me fall
And yee Daydes of elders age, yee litle infants all.
Mee clyp and coll about the necke: this fowle attyre forsake,
And spare myne eyes that pity it, and fresher vesture take
Lyke myne to see. and you with ioy, the halfe of emperie
Deere brother take: the greater prayse shall come to mee thereby,
Our fathers seate to yelde to you, and brother to relieue.
To haue a kingdome is but chaunce, but vertue it to geeue.

Thy.
I iust reward for such deserts, the Gods (O brother deare)
Repay to thee: but on my head a regall crowne to weare,
My lothsome lyfe denyes: and farre doth from the sceptor flee
My hand vnhappy: in the mydst let leefull be for mee
Of men to lurke.

Atre.
this kingdome can with twayne full well agree.

Thy.
What euer is (O brother) yours, I count it myne to bee.

Atr.
Who would dame fortunes gifts refuse, if shee him rayse to raigne?

Thy.
The gyfts of hir eche man it wotes, how soone they passe againe.

Atr.
Yee me depryue of glory great, except yee th'empyre take.

Thy.
You haue your prayse in offring it, and I it to forsake.
And full perswaded to refuse the kingdome, am I still.

Atre.
Except your part yee will susteine myne owne forsake I will.

Thy.
I take it then. and beare I will the name there of alone:
The ryghts and armes, as well as myne they shall be yours eche one.

Atre.
The regall crowne as you beseemes vpon your head then take:
And I th'appoyncted sacrifice for Gods, will now goe make.

Chorus.
Woulde any man it weene? that cruell wight
Atreus, of mynde so impotent to see
VVas soone astonied with his brothers sight,
Mo greater force then pietye may bee:
VVhere kynred is not, lasteth euery threat,
VVhom true loue holdes, it holdes eternally.
The vvrath but late vvith causes kyndled great
All fauour brake, and did to battayle cry,
VVhan horsemen did resounde one euery syde,
The swoardes eche vvhere, then glystred more & more:
VVhich raging Mars vvith often stroke did guide
The fresher bloud to shed yet thyrsting sore.
But loue the sworde agaynst theyr vvills doth swage,
And them to peace perswads vvith hand in hand.
So sodeyne rest, amid so great a rage
VVhat God hath made? throughout Mycenas land
The harnesse clynkt, but late of cyuill strife:
And for their babes did fearefull mother quake,
Her armed spouse to leese much fearde the vvyfe,
VVhen sworde vvas made the scabberde to forsake,
That now by rest vvith rust vvas ouergrowne.
Some to repayre the vvalles that did decay,
And some to strength the towres halfe ouerthrowne,
And some the gates vvith gyns of Yrne to stay
Full busie vvere, and dredfull vvatch by nyght
From turret high did ouerlooke the towne.
VVoorse is then warre it selfe the feare of fight.
(Nowe are the threats of cruell sworde layde downe,
And nowe the rumour whists of battayles sowne,
The noyse of crooked trumpet silent lyes,
And quiet peace returnes to ioyfull towne.
So when the waues of swelling surge aryse,
VVhyle Corus wynde the Brutian seas doth smight,
And Scylla soundes from hollowe Caues within,
And Shipmen are with wafting waues affright,
Charybdis casts that erst it had drunke in:
And Cyclpos fierce his father yet doth dred,
In AEtna banke that feruent is with heates,
Least quenched be with waues that ouershed
The fire that from eternall Fornace beates:
And poore Laërtes thinkes his kyngdomes all
May drowned be, and Ithaca doth quake:
If once the force of wyndes begin to fall,
The sea lyth downe more mylde then standing lake.
The deepe, where Ships so vvyde full dredfull vvere
To passe, vvith sayles on eyther syde out spred
Now fallne adowne, the lesser Boate doth beare:
And leysure is to vewe the fyshes ded
Euen there, vvhere late vvith tempest bet vpon
The shaken Cyclades vvere vvith Seas agast.
No state endures the payne and pleasure, one
To other yeldes, and ioyes be soonest past.
One howre sets vp the thinges that lowest bee.
Hee that the crownes to prynces doth deuyde,
VVhom people please with bending of the knee,
And at whose becke theyr battayles lay aside
The Meades, and Indians eke to Phebus nye,
And Dakes that Parthyans doe with horsemen threat,
Him selfe yet holdes his Sceptors doubtfully,
And men of might he feares and chaunces great
(That eche estate may turne) and doubtfull howre.
O yee, vvhom lorde of lande and vvaters wyde,
Of Lyfe and death grauntes here to haue the powre,
Lay yee your proude and lofty lookes aside:
VVhat your inferiour feares of you amis.
That your superiour threats to you agayne.
To greater kyng, eche kyng a subiect is.
VVhom dawne of day hath seene in pryde to raygne,
Hym ouerthrowne hath seene the euening late.
Let none reioyce to much that good hath got,
Let none dispayre of best in vvorst estate.
For Clotho myngles all, and suffreth not
Fortune to stande: but Fates about doth driue.
Such friendship finde wyth Gods yet no man myght,
That he the morowe might be sure to lyue.
The God our things all tost and turned quight
Rolles with a whyrle wynde.