should Inclination be If here abandon'd in the Sire and Sonne Or you neglectfull Geâ—â—ij that attend On our directed actions where are you That now you loyter Is' t to be contemn'd We are indulgent or a debt we owe Me thinkes the liberall expence bestow'd On your vnnecessary feasts might charme From you some succour that some power bestow'd To hinder purposes that tend to harme But you oft-blamed sistes in my verse That do determine mans vncertaine yeares 'T is you but thou of all the three most fierce That a soâ—nes sword mistakest for thy sheares By which poore Laius threed being cut he falles Eu'n as an antique edifice of stone Struck with a thundring peale of shot whose wals If not by force would haue decay'd alone No sooner fell he but the Thebans fled Some for assistant succor some for feare Some washt their bloudy cheeks in tears they shed Others with out-cries forced others teare The murderers not knowing whom th 'had slaine Howseuer would not trust their innocence Their guilt assures them that they shall be tane If long they stay so they depart from thence Leaving the busie multitude imploy'd In vaine enquiry of they know not whom All the whole cheerefulnesse of Thebes destroyd And Cadmus race quite sorrow ouercome Amongst the rest the but halfe-living queene Comes where her other best-lou'd halfe lay dead Whose mangled body when she once had seene Her heart his wounds receiu'd but faster bled Anone herselfe on his stiffe trunke she throwes Kisses his bloud-left cheekes oh thus quoth she The all she hath of thine thy wife bestowes Eu'n till she hath no breath shee 'l breath on thee And being dead thus on thy graue I l'e lye Tombing thee in an Alablaster shrine With open bosome that the passer by May see what thy heart was by seeing mine And now I thinke thee happy Niobe Whose marble breast yeeld to no sence of woes After thou twise seven funerals didst see Twise didst thy children in thy wombe inclose Oh wold my fortune now like thine might proue I m'e sure the griefe is greatest I abide Thou but for children mourned'st I for a Loue Might haue made me a mother ere I dy'd Remembrance now at this sad name of Mother Doth old mishaps to be wept ore bring out A greene wounds anguish oft vnskinnes another Sorrow 's a circle and still turnes about Now comes to minde her child-births bitternesse Made heavier with the burden that she bore Which had he liu'd yet wold haue grieu'd her lesse Though he had triumph'd in his fathers gore In vaine oh Laius didst thou kill thy sonne When from a stranger thou hast death receau'd If needs thy threed must haue bin cut ere spunne Would he had liu'd thy life to haue bereau'd He might haue best bin authour of thy death In whom thou liu'dst through him perpetuall Succession might haue lengthend thy short breath Built from these ruins towers that nere should fall Now both are perisht with your memory Of whom no age-withstanding record's left Onely my breast retaines what none can see What soone will faile so soone of you bereft Oh ill betide thee cruell hearted man If man thou be'st that had a heart so cruell Vncivill monster I thinke rather than Composd of heauenly fire and earthly fuell The sauage tyrant of the forrest would Haue loath'd the fact to do and being done Flints wold haue wept rocks if here they stood Would melt as wax at presence of the sunne Oh rockes and snaggy flints when we compare Hard men with you we do you iniury Men are themselues I most like men they are When they are furthest from humanitie Here from the bounds of charitie transported She on the murdrer bitterly exclaimes Wishing him woes not to be comforted To proue his fathers ruines mothers shame Till what her sad attendants could affoord She tastes of comfort if there comfort liue ' Mongst those that in one miserie accord Wanting that most which they desire to giue Reason at last establisht patience So taking vp the reliques of their King With slow procession they depart from thence Towards Thebes with theÌ„ their sad load do bring Where long it was not ere with Funerall Rites The corpes were brought vnto the Funerall pile Musick sounds harsh though it elsewhere delights What mirth did vse now vsd doth mirth exile Performed are the Obsequies at last The people cloath'd in customary black To giue more state vnto their sorrow past Mould to present it by their looking back Scarce were their Cypresse garlands withered Scarce of their spent tears had they took their leaue Ere Mischiefe Hydra-like exalts her head Which by the formers losse she doth receiue For angry Iuno neuer reconcil'd To her corriuals brothers progeny Burning in rage so oft to be beguil'd Thus wreakes her selfe on them with tyranny Hard by the Citie in Crenaa's sight A hill there is whose spired top commands A spacious prospect which Phycaeos hight Washing his graueld feet in Duces sands Here the too much inraged Goddesse plac'd Echidna's daughter triple featur'd Sphinx Of rare composure ' boue the doubtfull wast Which baser growes as neerer earth it sinkes A virgins face she had where might be read Perfection printed in each gracefull part And from her head a golden curtaine spread Hangs as the couer to some curious Art As for her voyce no Princes wronged Lad No Syren sweeter or more cunning sings Plump moving breast smooth skin white arms she had Fanning a feather ' paire of painted wings But as an Artist leanes his carved worke On formes deform'd or as each wise man telles Worst Serpents vnder gayest flowers lurke Or pleasures welcomes haue but harsh farewelles So Nature in a Lyons halfe had put That other halfe but totally Divine Whose meaning sith from most it vp be shut Disdaine not this moralitie of mine Learning Knowledge by our Sphinx is meant As hid as her Aenigma's posing wits In Hierogliphicks and to this intent On armed Pallas helmets top she sits On hill shee keepes and so the Muses doe Hard are the numbers of a Poets rime Nature Art Vse are the thrâ— steps thereto Care must be had that we directly clime Nature doth rudely our dull masse prepare And if not helpt contemplates but with sence Her groueling lookes downwards deiected are And can deriue but earthly knowledge thence But Art erects it selfe with Reason scans Things aboue reach then taking Vses wings Mans spirit soares vp higher then a mans Houering aboue heauens Christall Orbe he sings Beast Maid and Bird is Nature Art and Vse Ioyn'd in one knowledge as those three in one If you admit not this admit excuse Learning 's a Sphinx her riddles are vnknowne Well here she held long her dominion Propounding questions vnto passers by Given by the Muses to her on condition If answer'd she else the not-answerers dye To many loe her riddles she propounds Whose hidden meaning was so intricate That to her none the
here is not enough secure Dreames catch his swimming fancies in a net His slumbers broken with illusiue sights Raise sudden starts mutter out words abrupt His haire on tip-toe heaues with vaine affrights Rest do minds troubled rest doth interrupt Anon he wakes calles for his horse to flye He is pursu'd 't is true but whither wilt Thou hear'st about thee thine owne enemy And flye thy countrey mayst but not thy guilt Perceiving then how he did erre he smiles Eu'n out of griefes Antiperistasie Alas thou er'st not nor thy dreame beguiles Pursu'd thou art Crimes the pursuers be But Griefe and he growne more familiar Strange welcomes Artfull gratulations ceast Which more in Innes then Mansions vsed are Not to a daily but a seldome guest Yet when acquaintance would vn-nurtur'd grow And too much on a wearied friend relye Vnmannerly till it be bidden goe He lookes vpon it with disliking eye And to be rid of cumbersome intrusion Cuts kindnesse shorter and directly chides His trouble from him when ingrate confusion Claimes it as due and curtesie derides And hauing got the vpper hand insults Ore his deiected owner rebell-like As when Ambition gathring head revolts And at a crownes forbidden lustre strikes When as the King sees that submit he must Impatience thus in sillables breakes out Blast me some powerfull vapour into dust Circle me Furies with your brands about Oh let the weight of my impietie Presse downe the center dig it selfe a graue Or from two poles crack the warpt Axletree That Nature may a second labour haue Earth shrinke thou vnder me and thou to whom Divided Chaos pitchy darknesse sent Let me inhabit in some vaulted roome Where no light is through guiltie crannies lent You Citizens of Thebes for me distrest Tombe me aliue with stones you childlesse mothers Striping the milke out from your vnsuckt breasts You that haue lost the names of sons brothers You widowed Matrons loue-deprived Maids Pierce me at once with clamors loud and thick 'T is I whom Gods do hate and Man vpbraids The very But where Fate her Arrowes stick Why doe I stay why doth not heauen ordaine Some punishing Iron or some strangling rope Or why descends not some consuming raine Is vengeance layd vp for a further scope I haue sin'd all I can but I mistake A punishment cannot be thought on fit There 's some vnheard-of creature yet to make That ioyn'd to cruelty may haue Art and wit Me thinkes I feele a Vulture peck my liver My intrailes by some Tyger eaten vp Or in the muddy bottome of a river The nibbling Fry vpon my carcasse sup Oh my sad soule do not looke pale on death Feare not thy period vnto all thy feares Delights but Comma's are to gather breath Lest we should tire ere the full poynts appeares See heere for now he had vnsheath'd his sword How easie is it for a man to dye One little touch yea oftentimes a word Mans great bulk falles eu'n conquer'd with a flye There is but one and that a narrow way To enter life but if we would go out Of many thousand beaten paths we may Take our owne choyce we need not goe about And this is all that man can call his owne What else he hath Nature or Fortune lends Many can life deny but death can none Onely to dye vpon mans will depends Dye then so setting to his naked breast His weapons poynt ready thereon to fall Somewhat detaines him to performe the rest Not that he thought death grievous but too small Death is a Felons sentence and shall I For parricide and incest feele no more Some men do count it happinesse to dye A cure esteeme it rather then a sore Yet say the violent separation Of the acquainted body from the soule Chiefly to such who no relation Haue but to earth doth manlinesse controule What then thy Fathers death thy death requires Thy death for incest must the God appease Thy death must quench thy countries funeral fires And with one death can'st satisfie all these Couldst thou dye often could thy corpes renewd Change tenants oft couldst thou be borne againe Dye againe faultlesse could vicissitude Of life and death draw out an endlesse paine Revenge might somewhat be suffisd but now Life is thy greatest torment death espying As more remote so with more frightful brow Sith thou but once oh bee thou long in dying 'T is now growne vulgar to be Stoicall Peasants redeeme with easie deaths their feares Who would be manly or heroicall What Cowards thinke intolerable beares Linger my hasty soule be not bankerous Meerely in policie breake not so soone Some sighes thou still hast left to furnish out Thy trade with breath hold out till they be done A sudden shower from his eyes doth raine Haue I teares yet saies he alas vaine wet Thou canst not wash away one spot one staine That my least guilt vpon my fame hath set 'T is not enough to weepe I oft haue vsd Teares in my mirth let them not looke out heere Yet powre it downe if there be bloud infusd And see the eye drop after it's shed teare You shal weep bloud mine eyes sets his nailes Where sight had built her azure monument Thus shed your selues no moisture else prevailes Then from their crakt strings he his eye-bals rent Now now 't is finisht I am cleare no light Betrayes me to my selfe I 'me living dead Exempt from those that liue by wanting sight From those are dead because vnburied So having all the office of his eye Discharg'd by th' other foure his guidlesse feet Are vsher'd by his hands when suddenly His wife his mother both in one him meets Son husband cries she would not both or neither My wombes Primitiae my beds second Lord Why turnst thou hence thy hollow circles whither Those rings without their iewels hold this sword Looke on my bosome with the eyes of thought Lend thou the hand and I will lend the sight My death thou mayst that hast a fathers wrought Strike thou but home thou canst not but strike right Why dost thou stay Am I not guilty too Then beare not all the punishment alone Some of 't is mine on me mine owne bestow A heavy burthen parted seemeth none Oh I coniure thee by these lampes extinguisht By all the wrongs and rights that we haue done By this wombe lastly that hath not distinguisht Her loue betwixt a husband and a sonne Ore-come at length he strikes with one full blowâ— Her life it selfe to a long flight betakes He wanders thence secur'd in dangers now Made lesse already then fate lesse can make Long liu'd he so till heaven compassion tooke Reuenge herselfe saw too much satisfied Ione with vnwonted thunder-bolt him strooke Into a heape of peacefull ashes dryed His sonnes both killing warres his daughters fate To following buskind Writers I commit My Popiniay is lesson'd not to prate Where many words may argue little wit FINIS
artillery cleaue the earth in sunder Or if example might the fact admit And heauen not punish vs for doing ill Can I whose heart was ne're so brazen yet As the mean'st bloudlesse creatures bloud to spill First on my sonne my cruelty expresse A father more inhumane then a man To others kind to mine owne pittilesse The sanguâ—â— spill that with my sanguine ran Rather it should be one thine enemy Fram'd of a harder â—ould then could be found Amongst 〈…〉 tyranny One that would ground a â—ischiefe on no ground I neuer should thy Funerals bewaile In the 〈◊〉 habite of a weeping blacke Thy pâ—rple still would make my sable pale Mourning my fault thy death would mourning lacke Those hands must be more irreligious far Then mine and challenge a lesse interest In this same life that must this life debar A heart that 's prison'd in an iron brest Hereafter when thy Epitaph worne out In letters old reuiues thy story new The weeping readers that do stand about And throgh their tears the crime do greater view Will wrong my softnesse thus and thus exclaimeâ— What flinty matter did the man compose How rocky was the womb from whence he came That could relentlesse a sonnes life depose When we that but spectators absent bee And no beholders of what we behold Thaw into water when we thinke we see The mercilesse murder which he did of old The stone that now weepes ore this Monument Was for compassionate teares first made a stone If Pitty then attir'd in marble went What garment did such Cruelty put 〈◊〉 Our Writers surely do past times belye And tell but tales for vs to 〈◊〉 Where in our age can we such acts espye Such deeds beyond our reach to 〈◊〉 The seasons are but nick-nam'd and we trye Theirs were the Iron ours the golden times Onely we want their plenty the reason why Our age is punisht for their ages crimes Ere thus a scandall do preuent my death Thy hand oh child my scandall shall preuent Finish thy mischiefes with vnworthy breath Be worse then thou art able to repent Before that I in whom compassion fits My vnstain'd hands in guiltlesse bloud pollutes Some wretch for such a villanie's more fit I cannot heare thy cries and persecute Here tears from their stopt fountains gan to break Whereat he houses vp the â—atall lenife And hauing nothing more that he could speake Seekes ' mongst his Swains one to attempt his life Poore men alas they all were pittifull Whose onely practise euer was to saue Yet one there was amongst the rest more 〈◊〉 Whose lookes of crabbed members notice gaue This from his fellowes being eal'd apart The King thinkes 〈…〉 To him he opes the hâ—d griefes of his heart And stâ—ictly charges that his sonne do die Do not I pray quoth he expostulate Or blame me being thus vunaturall Know onely this Repentance comes too late When either this or a worse ill must fall And oh deere child when thy pure soule is freed From this corpe prison let it rest in peace In pleasant fields and on Ambrosia feede Let not my act thy happinesse decrease 'T is not the base defire I haue to liue Makes me thus cruell by my cleere thoughts I'dâ— first My second breath that fame affoords me giue Dye twise then by thy death once liue accurst Could Destinies but alter their intent Or Delphes contradict it owne presage I 'de let an immortality be spent Ere thou shouldst perish in vnripen'd age Now for thy selfe 't is that thy selfe must die Who else must liue the monster of the earth No offring else the Gods can pacifie Dye then new borne ere liue to curse thy birth Eu'n as a froward child affected stands Playing the wanton with some shaâ—pe delight Whose sport though pleasing yet will hurt his hand Cries being had or taken from his sights The like inconstant passions hold this King Grieung to loose what grieues him 〈◊〉 And more alas he sorrowes in this thing That that shold grieue him which shold make him glad Now doth he print his last departing kisse When now affection coines some new delay Onely quoth he I will but vtter this Then striues to speake when he had nought to say The mother not so manly in her woe Speakes all her sorrowes in a female eye Like weeping Rhea when she should forgoe Her first borne sonne through Saturnes crueltie After her griefe struggling for greater vent Had sigh'd a fare-well from her big-swoln heart With briny Mirrh that stead of Odors went She balmes the Hearse now the Hearse departs Now had the Sunne with blushing modesty Tooke his vnwilling leaue on Thetis cheeke And other Tapers of the golden sky Put out their lights elsewhere the night to seeke When earely riser Phorbâ—â— iolliest swaine That on Cithâ—ron tunes an oaten quill Display'd his siluer-flockes vpon the plaine Himselfe to be inspir'd sate on the Hill Where many morning Madrigals he sang In praise of Pan with many amorous laies Of Shepheards loues that all the Medowes rang And Phâ—â—â— seem'd attentiue with his raies There fell he to compassion Maiesty And great mens cares in such a bliâ—â—some straine As well his Musicke did his minde descry His song thoughts did the same notes coÌ„taine When on the suddeÌ„ some nâ—â—r neighboring shrinks Not strong enough to sillable it's woes Breakes off his pastime and doth wonder strike In him a stranger to such cries an those And listning still hee heard a second voyce That breath'd together Pitty Cruelty Both life and death in one confused noyse Relenting that it must persisting be You Powers said it that guid these things below Vnman me quite from this same shape of man Let all my limbes to Oaken branches grow Obdure my heart e'ne harder if you can That as I am I don't so much digresse From being my selfe as yet alas I must Be too disloyall or too pittilesse Hazard my vertues or deceiue my trust Authority commands I do obey And reason 't is command should be respected And yet remorse Authority gaine-saies Either do threat if either be neglected Whither oh then shall I my selfe conuert On either side I am attacht with guilt Shunning a fault I can't a fault diuert But sinne as much in bloud that 's sau'd as spilt Oh 〈◊〉 and in him you earthly Kings That print your waâ—en Vassails as you list Obserue in me what your iniustice brings How much our 〈◊〉 do oft your wils resist Thinke you that you can ere your selues acquit In the assistant doers of your plots The 〈◊〉 's more hainous sure you do commit Doubled dishonour doth your honour blot When not content with your owne vertues wast To the foule acts you might haue done alone More are corrupted more in mischiefe plac't By others crimes to amplysie your owne That we beholding in your vices face Looks so deform'd deeme that our faults are faire And if a King no dire attempts disgrace Surely in vs they but beseeming are
As thou by both her water'd sides dost ride Attend me all By whose hand Laius fell Let him no harbour no aboad enioy No not himselfe wherein himselfe may dwell But when none else let he himselfe annoy May his owne houshold Gods vnfaithfull proue And the vnnaturall Lart in exile worse Reap he most shame from what he most doth loue And may his wife an impious off-spring nurse Kill he his father as he kild his King And let his acts my wishes power out-goe If a worse fate then mine can torment bring Heap't vp yet doe he what I shun to doe And for my selfe as I with prayers desire My vntoucht parents may proclaime me good No cooling intermission shall retire Reuenge till bloud be washt away with bloâ—d But play not with vs true Propheticke spirit Thus by denyed grants to make vs long Search is ambitious and would all inherit Secrets with-held make inquisition strong A taste but whets the liâ—â—ish appetite For satisfactions earnester pâ—â—â—â—â—it Vnto a prisoner the spâ—â—e-scanted light A bondage is to want it and to view 't Then do thou heauenly goodâ—â—s whom it pleas'd To shew the meanes further the meanes vnfold Point forth the man that soone we may be eas'd Or teach vs to forget what thou hast â—old Else as impatient patients we fare To whom the Châ—â—â—â—k hath prescrib'd receits Of such ingredients as so hidden are That they are doubted to be skild deceits Vrge Gods no more replyes the sacred Priest Man must worke somewhat for his better being Yet if with this thou not contented bee'st Blinded Tiresias eyes must helpe thy seeing Forthwith the faithfull Creon is dismist To Phoebus second Oracle who late Lost sight yet gain'd a better then he mist As he Coelestiall matters did debate Far from the Citty lies a nighted Groue Downe in the Valley where fleete Dirce glides Where th'vntoucht Cipresse spreads his boughs aboue And froÌ„ the Sun the subiect Bramble hides The aged Oake his rotten branches tends From whose corrupted side thicke ielly drops And stooping vnder many yeares he bends To rest his crippled truncke on yonger props There bitter-berried Daphne Mirrha stood The trembling Apse the Birch with smooth thin rine Th' eternall Cedar for my lines too good The vpright Alder and Sunne-guilded Pine In midst of this is situate a Tree Of wondrous greatnesse whose extended armes Mete the large confines of it's Empery And fense the weake inhabitants from harmes Within the hollow compasse of whose trunke Nature had cut out an vnciuill den Which a cold fountaine without ceasing drunke Vp of the earth moats with a miry fen Heere by his daughter Manto led he meets Reuerenc'd Tiresias And from the King Him all humanity obseru'd he greets And further vtters what him thither brings Then as the neuer-erring Prophet wild A hostiall fire vpon the Altar's made Which they before of Turffs of earth did build And there two cole-blacke Heifers on were laid The sacred Vates standing by the fire In direfull roabs yclad with box-tree crown'd Oft waues his powerfull wand and then enquires What Omens in the beasts or flames are found Anon he sings the hideous magicke verse Cals on the names of dutious Spirits thrice Thrice doth he smite the shooke earth thrice rehearse What deuils may compell or deuils tice A bloudy shower from his right hand fals And from his left drops bloud with Bacchus mixt Then with more earnest voice againe he cals With steady countenance on the center fixt Now dismall Hecats Dogs began to barke Which to repeat the wood by Eccho's taught A night comes now there answering day so darke A blinder Chaos seene then th' old was thought Vp rise the subiects of infernall Dis At which each Tree his frighted branches heaues Many an Oake in splinters shiuer'd is Many an Elme shrinkes vp his blasted leaues Earth suffers violence and open rends Her seal'd vp wombe to shew her tombed dead The subtile spirits penetrating fiends Out of her cauernes lift their crisped heads There might one see the griesly God of Hell Put his num hand out of his frozen Lake Nights very selfe three sister'd furies fell Picking queint morsels on a speckled snake The viperous brood of strange produced brothers Blinde Fury running carelesse of a guide Horror with vpright haire And all the others Eternall Darkenesse doth create or hide Griefe ' gainst it selfe that exercises rage Sickenesse that droopes a lither-head down hung Feare neuer certaine selfe-despising age Detraction last with her backe-biting tong That euen Manto custom'd to these Rites Astonisht stood onely her vnmou'd Sire Doth more the ghosts theÌ„ ghosts can meÌ„ affright That trembling Fiends closely themselues retire When he afresh effectuall charmes infers Graue-bedrid corps out of Deaths sleepe to wake Who breaking ope their Marble Sepulchers Their liuing formes vnto their soules retake So many leaues doth not Oeta shed So many Swallowes doth not Winter chace So many Bees are not in Hybla fed So many billowes wash not Neptunes face As there of sundry Nations ghosts appear'd Some with dismembred bodies some with scarres Doubly disfigur'd and were doubly sear'd Others vntoucht slaine by loues stroke not wars Amongst the rest Laiuâ— his head erects With meager lookes gor'd through with ghastly wounds That almost none him by his forme detects While thus he speakes while he in teares abounds Oh house of Cadmus neuer satisfied With bloud of kindred once my Country deare Whose first bad off-spring by each other dyed And still that enmity the last doth beare 'T is not heauens anger but thy wickednes Thou labour'st with no South-wind pestilence brings The thirsty earth vnquencht with rain hurts lesse Then th' abhominable action of thy Kings 'T is he not yet corrected paricide My murderer that for satisfaction Of a Sires death a Mother makes his Bride A worser father though too bad a son 'T is he to one wombe twise a diuers load Curst with prodigious issue who ahlas Vpon himselfe two brothers hath bestow'd Darker Aenigâ—aes then ere Sphinxes was He He it is that now my Scepter swayes Whom I with all your Citty prosecute Onely his exile misery allaies And till reueng'd I still will persecute He gone the painted spring shall soone repaire Your wither'd Arbors with their wonted greene No poisonous vapour shall infect your Aire But all shall be as it before hath beene This done and the infernall crew dismist Creâ—â— departs with sundry thoughts perplext Who in no steady counsell can persist Approuing what 's disproued by the next Anon the King is instant for the newes And after wanton preparation ended The messenger would faine himselfe excuse From telling it by telling where it tended But he more earnest through denyall threats By torment to extort it from his tong And mixes with his anger faire entreates Till both preuail'd he heares it and was stung A while with cogitations much distract He pauses on it and begins to doubt Some subtle stratageme contriu'd compact Which