University of Virginia Library

CASSANDRA.
Within a reuell rexe is kept, as sore as euer was,
Euen at the ten yeares siege of Troy: What thing is this? (alas)
Get vp my soule, and of the rage auengmeent worthy craue:
Though Phrygians wee bee vanquished, the victory we haue.
The matter well is brought aboute: vp Troy thou rysest now,
Thou flat on floore hast pulde down Greece, to ly as low as thou.
Thy Conquerour doth turne his Face: my prophesying spright
Did neuer yet disclose to mee so notable a sight:
I see the same, and am thereat, and busted in the broyle,
No vision fond fantasticall my senses doth beguile:
Such fare as Prygians feasted with on last vnhappy night
At Agamemnons royall courte full daintily they dight:
With purple hangings all adornde the brodred Beds doe shyne,
In olde Assaracks goblets gylt they swincke and swill the wyne.
The King in gorgyous royall robes on chayre of State doth sit,
And pranckt with pryde of Pryams pomp of whom he conquerd it.
Put of this hostile weede, to him, (the Queene, his Wyfe gan say,)
And of thy louing Lady wrought weare rather thys aray.
This garment knit. It makes mee loth, that shiuering heere I stande.
O shall a King be murthered, by a banisht wretches hande?
Out, shall Th'adulterer destroy the husbande of the Wyfe?
The dreadfull destinies approcht, the goode that last in lyfe
He tasted of before his death, theyr maysters bloud shall see,
The gobs of bloude downe dropping on the wynde shall powred bee.
By traytrous tricke of trapping weede his death is brought about,
Which being put vpon his heade his handes coulde not get out.
The stopped poake with mouth set ope his muffled head doth hyde,
The mankinde dame with trembling hand the swerd drew from her side,
Nor to the vtmost of her might it in his flesh shee thrast,
But in the gieuing of the stroke shee stayed all agast,
Hee as it were a bristled Bore entangled in the net
Among the bryars in busshy woodes yet tryeth out to get.
With strugling much the shrinking bands more streightly he doth bind.
He stryues in vayne, and would slip of the snare that doth him blind.
Which catcheth holde on euery syde. But yet th'entangled wreatch
Doth grope about, his subtle foes with griping hand to catch.
But furious Tyndaris preparde the Pollaxe in her hande,
And as the priest to sacrifice at Th'alter side doth stande,
And vewes with eye the Bullockes necke, eare that with Axe he smite,
So to and fro shee heaues her hand to stryke and leauell right.
He hath the stroke: dispatcht it is: not quite chopt of the head
It hangeth by a litle crop: heere from the Carkasse dead
The spouling bloude came gusshing out: and there the head doth lye,
With wallowing, bobling, mumbling tongue: nor they do by and bye
Forsake him so: the breathlesse coarse Ægist doth all to coyle:
And mangled hath the gasshed corpes: whyle thus hee doth him spoyle,
She putteth to her helping hand: by detestable deede
They both accorde vnto the kynde, whereof they doe proceede.
Dame Helens syster right shee is, and hee Thyestes sonne:
Loe doubtfull Titan standeth still the day now being donne,
Not knowing whether best to keepe still on his wonted way,
Or turne his wheeles vnto the path of dyre Thyestes day.