University of Virginia Library

THE THIRDE ACTE.

Theseus,
Nutrix,
At length I scapt the glowinge glades of grim eternall Night,
And eake the vnderpropping poale, that each infernall Spright
Doth muffle in, shut vp in shades loe how my dazelled eyes
Can scant abyde the long desired light of Marble Skies.
Eleusis now fowre offringes of Triptolemus deuydes,
And counterpaysed Day with Night now foure tymes Libra hydes.
I earnest in my Parlous toyle in doubt what lucke to haue
Twixt dread of gastly Death, and hope my feeble life to saue,
Some sparke of life stil in my breahles limmes abyding was,
When as embarkt on erkesome Stix Alcides downe did passe,
To succour me in dire distresse, who when the hellicke hound
From Tartares griesly gates in Chaynes he dragd aboue the ground,
And also me he caryed vp into the World agayne
My tyred limmes doth sappy pith of former strength restrayne,
My feble faltring legges do quake, what lugging toyle it was
From bottom deepe of Phlegethon to world aloofe to passe?
What dreary dole & mourning noyse is this that beates myne eares?
Let some declare it vnto mee: who blubbred so with teares
Lamenting loud and languishing within our gates appeares?
This entertaynment fit is for a guest that comes from Hell.

Nu.
A stubburne heart and obstinate in Phȩdras breast doth dwell,
With despret mind to stay her selfe our teares she doth despyse,
And giuing vp the gasping Ghoast, alas my Lady dyes.

Th.
Why should she kill herselfe? why die, hir spouse being come againe?

Nu.
For this (my Lord) with hasty death she would her selfe haue slaine.

Th.
These troblous wordes some perlous thing I wot not what to tell
Speake plain: what lumpe of glutting griefe her laded heart doth quel?
She doth complayne her case to none, but pensiuely and sad
She keepes it secrete to hir selfe, determind thus shee had,
To beare aboute with her the bane, wherewith she meanes to die.
Hie, hie thee fast, I pray thee now, now haue wee neede to hye.
Our Pallace lockt with stately stoulpes set open by and by.

Theseus,
Phædra.
O Madame Mate of Spousall bedde thus dost thou entertayne
The comming of thy louing Spouse? and welcom home agayne
Thy long desyred Husbandes face? why takes thou not away
My Sword out of my hand, and dost not cheare my Sprites (I saye)
Nor shewest me what doth the breath out of the body chase?

Ph.
Alas my valiant Theseus euen for thy royall mace,
Wherwith thy Kingdome thou dost weild, and by the noble raygne
Of thy belo'ud posterity, and comming home agayne,
And for the worship that is due vnto my fatall graue,
O let me die and suffer me, deserued death to haue.

Th
What cause compelleth thee to die?

Ph.
If I the cause of death
Disclose, then shall I not obtayne the loosyng of my breath:

Th.
No worldly wight (saue I my selfe alone) the same shall heare,
Art thou affrayd to tel it in thy husbandes bashful eare?
Speake out, thy secretes shrowd I shall within my faythful brest.

Ph.
What thou would other to conceale, kepe thou it first in rest,

Th.
Thou shalt not suffred be to die:

Ph.
From him that wisheth Death,
Death neuer can be seperate.

Th.
The crime that losse of breath
Ought to reuenge, shew it to me.

Ph.
Forsooth because I liue.

Th.
Alas do not my trilling teares thy stony stomacke grieue?

Ph.
It is the sweetest death, when one doth lothsome life forsake,
Bereft of such as should for him most woful weeping make.

Th.
Stil standes she mum? ye croked, old, ilfauord, hoblinge Trotte,
Hir Nurse for stripes and clogging bandes shall vtter euery iotte,
That shee forbid her hath to tell: in yron chaynes her bynd,
Let tawing whips wring out perforce the secrets of her mynd:

PH.
Now I my selfe wil speak: stay yet.

TH.
Why dost thou turne aside
From me thy weeping Countenance? thy teares why dost thou hide
That gushing sodaine frō thine eyes streame downe thy cheekes apace?
Why hidest thou thy flowing floudes with Coate before thy Face?

PH.
Thee, thee, Creator of the Heauens to witnesse I doe call,
And thee O glittering fiery glede of Christall Sky with all,
And Phœbus thou from whom at first our royall Race hath roon.
With fawning face & flattring words in suite I was not woon.
For naked sword, & thundring threts, appauled was I not:
My brused bones abode the blowe, and stripes when sore he smote:
This blemish black of foule defame my bloud shall purge agayne.

TH.
Declare what villaine is he yt our honour so doth stayne?

PH.
Whom least yee would mistrust.

TH.
To know who tis, ful sore I long.

PH.
This Sword wil tel, which sore afright when people thick in thrōg
Resorted fast, the Leacher vile for hast did leaue behinde,
Because the people preasing fast he dreeded in his minde:

TH.
Ah out alas, O woe is mee, what villany see I?
Alas what vncouth Monster fowle of mischiefe I espy?
Beholde the royall Iuory engrau'de and purtred fine,
Emboast with golden studdes, vpon th'enameld Haft doth shine,
(The Iewell of Actea lande) but whyther fled is bee?

PH.
With light Heele running sore dismaide these seruants did him see?

TH.
O sacred holinesse, O Ioue betweene whose mighty hands
The Marble Poale with weltring sway in course directed stands,
And thou that second Scepter weilds in fomy fighting waue,
Why doth this cursed broode with such this wicked vengeance raue?
Hath he bene fostred vp in Greece? or craggy Taurus wilde
Among hard rugged Rocks, and Caues, some sauage Scythian Childe?
Or else in brutish Colchis Ile by Desart Phasis flood?
Cat after kinde hee is, and will th'unkindly Bastard blood
Returne vnto his kinreds course, whence first his ligne hee clames.
This frantick fury vp and downe comes of the warlicke Dames,
To hate the loyall leagues of loue, and shunning long the vse
Of Cupids campe, with tag, and rag, her body to abuse,
Become as good as euer twangd: O detestable kinde,
No better Soyle by any meanes can chaunge thy filthy minde.
The brutish beasts themselues doe loath th'abuse which Venus drawes,
And simple shame fastnesse it selfe obserueth Natures lawes:
Where is the brag of Maiesty, and fayned portly grace
Of manly minde, that hateth new, and olde things doth embrace?
O double dealing life, thou clokes deceiptful thoughtes in brest,
And settest out a forhead fayre where frounced mynd doth rest:
The saucie Iacke with bashful brow doth malipiertnes hide:
The rashnes of the despret Dicke by stilnesse is vnspide.
With show of right religion knaues villany mayntayne,
And guileful mealemouthd Gentlemen do hold with speaking playne:
The daynty wanton Carpet Knights of hardnes boast and prate,
That Woodraunger, that brainsicke beast who liu'd in chast estate
An vndefyled Bachiler thou rude and homely clowne,
Thus dost thou watch thy tyme, to breede this blot in my renowne?
To make me Cuckold first of all did it delyght thy mynd,
First falling to thy spousall sport with mischiefe most vnkind,
Now, now, to thee supernal Ioue most hearty thankes I yeeld,
That with my first Antiope to dreary death I quelde,
That gone to dampish Stygian Dennes I left thee not behynd
Thy Mother: go, go Uagabond rawnge, rawnge, about to finde
Straunge forraine soyles, and outcast landes aloofe at world his end,
And Iles enclosd with th'Ocean floud to hell thy soule shall send:
Beneath among th'Antipodes thy selfe of harbring sped,
Though in the vtmost lurking nooke, thou shroude thy miching heade,
Aboue the grisly Pallaces thou climbe of lofty Poale,
Or maist aboue the clottring Snow aduaunce thy cursed Soule,
Beyond the brunt of Winter flawes and threatning rigour passe
And stormy wrath with rumbling rough of ysie Boreas,
With vengeance, vengeance violent fast hurling after thee,
With daunting plagues and pestilence thy sinnes shal scourged bee.
For life and death, about the world in euery lurking hoale.
O fugitiue I shal not cease stil to pursue thy soule.
But seeke and search for thee I shall in landes that lye a farre,
Al corners blynd and caues shut vp, Dennes lockt with bolt and barre,
A thousand wayes vnpassable no place shal me withstand.
My cursinges blacke shal light on thee there where reuenging hande
With weapon cā not worke ye harme: thou knowest that Neptune great
My Syre who flotes on floudes, & waues, with forked Mace doth beat
Geue licence freely vnto me three boones to chuse and craue,
Which willingly the God hath graunt, and sworne I shal it haue
Protesting vgsome Stygian Lake, and hallowed hath his vow:
O breaker of the wrastling waues, auouch thy promise now
Let neuer more Hippolitus behold th'eclipsed light,
And for the Fathers wrathful rage the cursed child downe smight,
To waile among the gastly sprites o Father bend thy might,
To giue (alas) this lothsome ayde vnto thy needy Sonne,
I of thy Maiesty deuyne exact not to be donne.
This chiefest bone, til puissant payse of ylles do vs oppresse:
In bottom deepe of boylyng Tartar pit and sore distresse,
In grisly Lymbo Iawes nigh garglefaced Ditis dimme,
Amid the crumpled threatning browes of Hellick Pluto grim,
To claime thy promise made to mee, as then I didde refrayne,
Now Syre thy fayth by promise due perfourme to me agayne.
Yet dost thou stay? why rumble not the waltring waues yet husht,
Through foggy cloude in dusky skies with stormy blastes outrusht.
Unfold the mantel blacke of Night, and roll away the Skies,
Enforce the fighting floods brast out with mounting waues to ryse
And coniure vp the water hagges that in the Rockes do keepe,
The Ocean surges swellyng hie cast vp from bottom deepe.

Chorus.
O nature Grandame greate of Heauenly Sprites,
Eake Ioue that guides Olimpus mighty sway,
That rakes the race of twinckling heauēly lightes
On spinning Spheare and order dost for aye
The stragling course of roaming planets hie,
And weildes about the whirling Axeltree
The weltring Poales, th'eternal course of Skie
To keepe in frame, what workes such care in thee
That earst the cold which hoary winter makes
Vnclothes the naked wood, and now agayne
The shades returne vnto the breary brakes
Now doth the starre of Sommer Lion raygne,
VVhose scalded necke with boyling heate doth frie,
Perbraking flames from fiery foming iawes:
VVith scorching heate the parched corne do drie:
Ech season so his kindly course in drawes.
But thou that weildes these thinges of massy might,
By whom the hugy world with egal payse
Euen Ballanced doth keepe in compasse right,
Each Spheare by measurd weight that iustly swaise,
Alas why dost thou beare a retchles breast
Toward mankind? not casting any care
That wicked men with mischiefe be opprest,
And eake to see that goodmen wel do fare
Dame Fortune topsieturuy turnes at wil
The world, and deales her dole with blinded hand,
And fosters vice mayntayning mischiefe ill.
Fowle lust triumphes on good men brought in band
Deceipt in stately Court the sway doth weild,
In Lordinges levvde the vulgar sort delight,
With glee to such the Mace of might they yeeld.
Some magistrates they do both loue and spight,
And pensiue vertue brought to bitter bale,
Receyues revvard that doth of right aryse,
The continent to Prison neede doth hale,
The Leacher raygnes enhaunced by his vice.
O fruitles shame, O counterfayted port.
But vvhat nevves may this messenger novv bring,
Who vvith maine pace comes poasting in this sort,
And stayes vvith mourning countnance at the Kinge.