y t sits in Seate on high and all the world dost guide And thou by whose comaundement the starres in skies do glide Thou thou that only ruler arte of seas and fluds and all On the and on thy Godhed great for these requests we call Who so hath slayn kinge Laius Oh Iâ—ue I do the praye Let thousande ils vpon him fall before hys dienge daye Let him no health no comfort haue buâ— al to crusht with cares Consume his wretched yeres in grief and though y t Death him spares A while Yet mischiefes all at once at lengthe vpon him light With all the euils vnder sonne that vglye Monster smight In exile let him lyue a slaue the rated course of life In Shame in Care in penurye in Daunger and in strife Let no man on him pitie take let all men him reuile Let him his mothers sacred Beds incestuouslye defyle Let him his father kill And yet let him do mischifes more what thing more heinous can I wish then that I wisht before Let him do all those illes I say that I haue shund and past All those and more if more maye be oh God vpon him cast Let hym no hope of pardon haue but sue and all in vayn All hellish Furies on him light for to encrease his payn Oh loue powre downe thy fury great thy thundryng thumps out throw Let Boreas boysterous blasts stormie Plages vpon him blow Consume hym quight Fret out his guts with Pockes botches vile Let all Diseases on hym lyght that wretched bodies fyle Let these and more if more may be vpon that Monster fall Let Harpies Pawes gredy paunche deuoure his members all Let no man hym regarde or seeke his lyms in graue to laye But let hym dye ten thousand deaths before his dieng daye By this my kyngdome I do sweare and kyngdom that I left By al my Countrey Gods that ben in Tempels close I keptâ— I sweare I vow I do protest and therto wytnes take The Stars the Seas the Earth all that ere thy hand dyd make Excepte that I my selfe forthwith this bludy Monster finde To wreke the wrath of God some way with solemne Oth I bynde And so my Father Polibuâ— his happy dayes outlyue And so my Mother Mâ—â—â—pâ— no Mariage new contriue As he shall dye that did this dede And none shall hym excuse What soeuer that he be I sweare for that he shortly rues But where this wicked dede was don Creon now tell me playne Boâ—h by what meanes where and how King Laius was slayne Passing through Castalia woods and Mowntayns heapd with Snow Creon Where Gâ—oues of scrubs Busshes thick Brambels sharp do grow A thre pathde crooked waye there is that diuersly doth go Oâ—e vnto Bacâ—hus Citie bends that Phocia doth hyght The other to the Lande of Sisâ—phus forth stretcheth out a ryght The thyrde at thende wherof a lothsom Serpent lyes Tends down vnto the Banck wherby Eleia water plyes The are mynding nought but peas a soden bande oâ— thâ—ues By open force of Armes owtright this mischiefâ— greate contriues But lo aswell as can be coms Tiresiâ—â— with trembling pace I thinke Appollos heauenly might hath brought him to this place Se where he comes and Manâ—o tâ— his wayes directinge goes ¶ The seconde Acte The seconde Sceane Oedypus Tyresias Manto Oedipus COme holye priest to Phebus next these doutfull aunswers lose And whom y e destnies wil to dy Straight wayes to me disclose Tyresias Renowmed Prince though stil I stand in silence dom dismayd And though by inward feare of mynd my lingringe tonge is staied â—et pardon me O â—oble Prince and giue me leue a while From â—aâ—k of sight â—prings Ignorance whiche power hath to exyle Unspotâ—â—d Truâ—h froÌ„ doutfull brâ—sts This thing full wel you knoe But whither god Countrie calles with willing mynde I goe Let dedlie fatall destenies be boulted out at lengthe O kinge if I of greener yeres had now my wonted strength This matter soone discust should be and I wold take in hande My selfe in presence of the Gods in temple for to stande A mighty Oxe all coulourd white vp on the Aultars reare Which neuer yet on weried necke the Croked yoke dyd beare And Manto thou O daughter myne myne onely prop and staye The secret hidden misteries and sacred signes out saye Manto The beste before the Aultare standes Tyresias To Gods a solemne praier make And on the holye Aultars to some pleasaunte odoures shake Manto Tis don And all the fiers fierce with incence bright do flame Tyresias O Manto now what signes seest thou how do thy matters frame What doth the fyre the Sacrifice encompas rounde about Manto Not so But first it mownts aloft and streight it flasheth out Tire Well Yet how doth the sacred flame all shining bright and cleare Hyt self on highe vnto the skies with sparkeling flakes vprâ—are Or doth it oft râ—bounding backe hit self from skies vnfould Or all with rumbling roring noise about the place ist rould Or miâ—t with smoke ist tost froÌ„ place to place now here now theare Manto Not all one but mingled colours the flame doth with it beare Much lyke vnto the Raynbow which hauing soundry hues Doth shew vnto the husbandmen the wether that ensues What colour it wants or what it hath to me is like vncertayn Now is it black now blue now red and euen now agayn Quight out it is Yet once again all fierce it flashing flames But lo yet miâ—chiefs more then this vnluckely it frames The fier quight asounder parts and flame with flame doth fight O father I abhorre to see this vglye lothesâ—m sight The wine to blud is turned quight and all the Prynces hed With thicke black clouds encoÌ„past is with smoke all ouer spred O father tel what this portends Tyresias What shuld I tell alas My mynde for feare astonied stands and trembling cold doth pas Through all my lims What shall I say or wher shal I begin O cruel Plages O wrekfull Gods O vengeaunce due for synne Som horrible mischief great alas these fearfull signes declare O Iupiter whats that y â— Gods wold haue reueld and yet do bid beware To vtter it They are ashamed I know not what Come hether quickely bring Som salte with the. Goe it vpon the wounded heâ—fer fling Howe now Dost once resistaunce make or doâ—th it gentlye bide The touchyng of thy sacred handes Manto His hed on highe he liftes And torning tâ— the East by course from thence he often shiftes Still lothinge as he semes to me Of heauen to see the light Oft scouling with his blearing eyes with gastely ruthefull sight Tire What Doth one blowe them driue to grouÌ„d or more then one they haue Manto The heifer as it seemd enflamd with couâ—age stoute and braue Upon the mortall Blade dyd rush and there himself destroyes When out the blud it foming spoutes and mounts vnto the Skies The bull twise stroke or thrise with groueling groning
oâ— y e wysest lytle esteaming the preiudiciall mouthes of suche carping Marchauntes whiche suffre no mennes doynges almoste to scape vndefyled In fyne I beseche all togyther yf so it myght be to beare with my rudenes and consydre the grosenes of oure owne CouÌ„trey language whiche can by no means aspire to the hyghe lofty Latinists Stile Myne onely entent was to exhorte men to embrace Uertue and shun Uice Accordynge to that of the ryght famous and excellent Poet Virgyl Discite iusticiam moniti non temnere diuos This obtayned I holde my selfe throughlye contented In the meane season I ende wyshyng all men to flie Sin the present Path waye to perfect Infelycitie Farewell ¶ The names of the Speakers of this Tragedie Oedipus Chorus Tiresias Senex Iocasta Creon Manto Pâ—orbas Nuntius ¶ The fyrste Acte Oedipus Iocasta Oedipus THe night is gon dredful day begins at length to appeare And Lucifer beset w t Clowds hymself aloft doth reare And gliding forth with heauy hewe A dolful blase doth beare in Skyes Now shal the houses voide be sene with Plagues deuoured quight And slaughter y t the night hath made shall daye brynge forth to lyght Doth any man in Princely throâ—e reioyce O bryttle Ioye How many ills how faire a face and yet how muche annoye In the doth lurke and hidden lies what heapes of endles stryfe They iudge amys y t deame y e Prince to haue the happy lyfe For as the mountayns houge and hie the blustryng windes withstand And craggy Rocks the bâ—lâ—hing fluds do dash and beate fro land Though that the seas in quiâ—t are and nought at all do fome So kingdoms great submytted lye to Fortunes doulfull Dome How well shund I my father deare Pâ—lybus scepters late Exildeâ— bereft of carfull feare in Pilgrims happy state I call the Gods to witnes heare and â—â—ars that glyde in skies A kingdom is befauln to me I feare lest hereof rise A mischiefe mighty Ioue to great I feare alas I feare Lest these my handes haue spoyld the lyfe of the my father deare Appollo byds me this beware and yet a mischiefe more Foretelles Can eny greater be then this I told before Of father slayn by sonnes owne hand My shyuering lyms do shake And all amased quaking stand at this vnhappie Fate I am asshamed my desâ—nies fowle at large to thunder out And openly to blase my feare my dredfull minde doth doubt Yet out it goes Phebuâ— me bids my mothers beds to fly As though that I hyr sonne w t hyr incestuouslie shuld ly This feare and only this my dryues from fathers kingdoms great Not lyke a wanderyng Uacabounde the wayes vnknowen I beate But all mystrustâ—ull of my selfe thy lawes O Nature for to keape I sought the meanes Yet feare I stil and fear into my mynde doth creape Though cause of Dread not one I sâ— yet feare and dread I all And scante in credit with my self I seke my fatal fall By Dome of doulful Destinies For what shuld I suppose the cause A Plage that is so generall And Cadmus countrie wholy spoiles and spreds it self thorough all Shuld vs amongest so houge a heap of plaged Bodyes spare And we alone amongst the rest reserued to myschiefes are O heuy hap And byde we still alone the spoyle to see Of Cites great of men of beasts by plage that wasted be And thou amongst so many yls a happy lyfe to lead Couldste once perâ—wade thy selfe O wretch without al fear or dread Of Phebus secret Iudgements to and that in kynges estate Thou thou infected hast the ayre in suche a fylthye rate Thou art the onely cause of woe by the these euils ryse By the to graue on suche a sorte this wretched people plies The fyry flaming frieng heate afflicted harts that wastes Is not relyued as wont it was by cold and pleasaunt blastes The gentle westerne windes haue left with helthful puffes to blow And now the fyery Dog with blase of boylynge heate doth glow The Sonne in Leo burns so hote and so the earth doth broyle That fluds and herbes are dried vp and nought remaynes but soyle So throughly schorcht and stued with heate that moisture all is gon And now amongst so may fluds remaynes alas not one The places drye are only sene the streames are dronken vp And water that doth yet abyde the sokyng Earth doth sup The Moone with clowds quight ouer cast all sadly forth she glides And dolfull darksom shades of night the whole worlde ouerhides No Star on hygh at all doth shyne but all the Skies are couered With blacke and hellyke hewe mistie stenche quight ouershadowed The corne that wonted was to growe and frutefully to spring Nowe to the voided Barnes nought els but emptie stalkes doth bring No part of all our kingdome is fre from Destruction But all together ronne and rush to vtter confusion The olde men with the yong alas the father with the childe The plage consumes both man wife all beastes both â—ame and wylde Are spoyled by the Pestylence No pompe at all remaynes That wonted was in Funeralles to ease the mourners paynes Alas this spoile of people made by Plage hath dryed myn eyes And secretly within my brest the griâ—fit boyling fryes And that that wonted is to hap in most exâ—remâ—st ylls My teares are dry and glutting grief my wretched brest it fills The crased father bears the sonns vnto theyr dampish graues And after him with burden lyke the mother comes and raues And euen lamentyng as they stand starcke ded downe both they fall And mourners new in like estate for them and theirs they call Who likwyse in the mydst of all their toyle and paynfull payne Do drop into the graue they digd and so the place do gayn That was prepared for others erst A tombe is made for Noble men fast on the people hyes And in their burdeÌ„s â—ling Nobility all vnregarded lyes For lacke of graues theyr bodyes all to ashes they do wast And so half burnt they leue theÌ„ ther. and home away for hast They runâ— more they fetcheâ— theÌ„ fier wood graue and all Doth want And down for very griefe the wretched misâ—rs fall No prayers auailâ— No Arte can help this raging Plâ—ge tappease For none almost is left alyue eche others grief to ease Before thine aulters here O God my feble hands I hould Requiring all my destinies at once with corage bold And that by death I may preuent my Country prest to fall For this and only this O God Upon thy name I call Let me not be the last that dies The last that goes to Graue GrauÌ„t this then O mighty loue My full request I â—aue O cruell Gods vnkynd O more than thrise vnhappy â—ates That only me denied is that lightes on all estates I meane a spedy death alas these euyls to preuent Leaue of thy blubberyng teares flye these kingdoms foyld O foole With rotten plages and botches vyle and graues eche where
Ghosts are herd to cry And whyther long of Acheron that lothsom Flud that flowes All stynkyng streames or of y â— earth that out her Bowels throwes Dead Corpses to receyue Or of that fyerce infernall Hownd That at suche tymes doth bustlyng make w t chayns ratlyng sownd The Earth all wide it open gapes And I did se on grownd The Gods with colour pale and wan that those darke kingdoms keepe And very night I saw in dede And thousand shapes to creepe From out those fylthy stynkyng lakes and lothsom pits of Hell Where all the eâ—yls vnder Son in darksom shades do dwell So quaking all for feare I stoode with mynd ryght sore apalde Whilst on those Gods w t tremblyng mouth the Priest full often calde Who all at once out of theyr dennes did skip with griesly face And MoÌ„sters grim stinging snakes seemd wander in that place And all the fowlest Feends of Hell and Furies all were there And al traÌ„sformed Ghosts sprights that euer Hell did beare With Cares and all Diseases vyle that mortall mynds do crush All those and more I sawe out of those Dongeons deepe to rush And Age I sawe with ryfled face and Nede and Feare and Death And Fyre and flames thousand yls out fro those Pyts to breath Then I was gon and quight amazd The wenche in worser cas And yet of old acquaynted with her Fathers Artes she was The Priest hymself vnmoued stood and boldly cited owt Whole Armies of kyng Ditis men who clustryng in a Rowt Al flittring thin like Clowds disperst abrode in Ayre do flye And breathing oft w t dyuers formes do scud aboue in Skie A thousand woods I thinke haue not so many leaues on trees Ten thousaÌ„d medowes fresh haue not so many swarmyng Bees Ten hundred thousand Hils haue not so many flakes of Snow Nor all the drops streames gulffs that in the Seas do flow Yf that they myght be wayd can once so great a number make As could those shapes forms y t flew from out of Limbo lake Both Tanâ—alus and Zetus to and pale Amphions Ghost And Aâ—â—uâ— and after her ten thousand Sprights do post Than Pentiâ—eus and more and more in lyke estate ensue Tyll out at length coms Laâ—us with fowle and griesly hue All perst w t wounds I loth to speake with blud quight ouergrown Uncomly drest in wretched plight with head styll hangyng down A Miser ryght as seemd to me and most of Misers all Thus in this case at length he spake and thus began to call O Cadmus cruell Cytie vile that styll delighâ—st in blood O Cadmus thou which kinsmens deth acowntst as chiefest good Teare out the bluddy Bowels of your Chyldren Learne of me Do that rathâ—r more than you wold byde the daye to se. Like yls as late on me are lyght Loe Mothers loue Alas Is now the ryfest fault outryght that ere in Theba was The CouÌ„trye with the wrath of gods at this tyme is not tost Nor Earth nor Ayre infect is not the cause that all ben lost No. No. A bluddy kyng is cause of all these mischifes greate A bluddy wretche A wretched Child that sits in Fathers Seate And Mothers bed defyles O wretch and entreth in agayn In places whence he came froÌ„ once and doubleth so her payne And that that very Beasts almost do all abhorre to do Euen of his Mothers body he hath brothers gotten too O myschief great O dredful dede than Sphinx O Monster more Example vnto Ages all of Gods foretolde before But I thee thee y e Scepter holdst thy Father wyll pursue And wreke my selfe on the and thyne with fearefull vengeaunce due All raging Plagues all Botches vile I wyll vpon the blowe And all the fowlest Feends of Hell vpon the I wyll throwe I wyll subuert thy Houses cleane for this thy lothsom lust I wyll do this thou wretche And the and thyne consume to dust Wherfore dispatche at once I saye into exyle dryue your Kyng That grouÌ„d that fyrst of all he leaues with fresh greene grasse shal spryng And sweâ—e and pleasaunt Ayre and healthfull blasts shall blow And all the euyls vnder the Son that beastly slaue shall folow The Poks y e Piles y e Botch y e blane and Death with hym shall flye And with hym mischiefs all shall pas and Monsters vnder Skye And as for hym I know he wold depart with wyllyng mynd But I wyll clog his feete and hands his way he shall not fynd But groping with his aged staffe shall passe from place to place This shall he do And none shall rue vpon his wretched case Ryd you hym from the yearth in timâ— for Heauen let me alone No sooner sayd buâ— strayght away his dreadfull Ghost was gone And fast by thousands after hym thother Sprights in hyde Than Cold tremblyng feare began through all my bones to glyde Oedipus That that I alwayes feard alas vpon me now is layde But slender props thei are God wot wherby your Treason is stayde Merâ—pa my Mother deare shall me from this defende And Polibus shall purge me quight from Actions all that tend To muder or to incest vile they both shall me excuse In suche a case no meanes at all of tryall I refuse Laye what you can vnto my charge No fault in me remayns The Thebanes long or I cam here of Laâ—us death complayns My mother yet alyue my Father styll in lyke estate No no this is som doâ—â—ysh dryfâ— of you false Prophets pate Or els som mighty God aboue doth beare vs no good wyll And sekes by Plages on vs to wreke his wrathfull vengeaunce styll A syr I am glad at length I smell your dryfts and fetches fyne I know the whole confedrats well your sleyghts I can vntwyne That beastly Priest That blearcyed wretch be lyes the Gods and me And thee thou Traytour in my place hath promyst kyng to be Crâ—on Alas wold I my syster of her lawfull kyngdom spoyle Thinke you suche Treason may haue place in brothers brest to boyle Yf that myne Oth could me not kepe content with my degree But that contemnyng meane estate I wold clime aloft to be Yet should yll Fortune me deterre from suche attempts I trowe Whose guyse it is on Princes heads houge heapes of Cares to throwe I wold aduyse you syr betymesâ— this charge from you to threst Least lyngryng long w t it at length vnwares ye be opprest Assure your selfe in baser state more safer you may lyue And shun a thousand Cares Griefs whiche Princes Harts do ryâ—e Oâ—d And dost thou me exhorte thou slaue my kyngdoms for to leaue Darst thoâ— attempt thou vyllayn vile this thyng to me to breake And fearst thou not in suche a case so boldly for to speake Creon Thynk you I wold them so perswade whiche freely myght posses Theyr Realmes Or those y t nede not fear least cares should theÌ„ oppres But as for you of force you must
wheele doth turne by course of kynde Thes greuâ—us Plags froÌ„ priuat hous to Princely Thrones do flow And oft theyr minds w t â—ares thei fous and thick vpon them strow Whole heapes of grief dyre debate A wofull thyng to see A Princely lyfe to mysers state conuerted for to bee O Oedipus thy fatall fall thy dredfull mischiefs ryght Thy dolfull state thy mysery thy thrise vnhappy plyght These thyngs shal blase through all y e world what hart may theÌ„ reioyce At thy dystresse I can no more my teares do stop my voyce But what is he that yonder stamps and ragyng puffs and blowes And often shakes his vexed head some mischief great he knowes What newes good syr with you ¶ The fyft Acte The fyrst Sceane Nuntius WHen Oedipus accursed wretche his fatall fals had spied And mischiefs great To Hell he damnd his wretched soule and on the Gods he cried For vengeaunce due And posting fast with frantik moode griesly hue Unto his dolfull Court he went his thoughts for to pursue Muche lyke a Lion rampyng wyld his furious head that shakes And roors w t thundring mouth alowd And often gnashing makes None otherwise this miser fared A lothsom syght to see Besydes hymself for very rage he styll desyres to die And rouling round his wretched eies with visage pale and wan Ten thousand Curses out he powres Hymself the vnhappiest man Of all that lyue he doth accownt As iustly he may doe A wretche A slaue A Caytyfe vyle The cause of all his woe And in this case enflamd with spite he cries he stamps he raues And boylyng in his secret thoughts he styll desyres to haue All torments vnder Son that may his Cares conceyued encreas O wretched wyght what shuld he do What man may hym releas Thus foming all for rage at mouth with syghs and sobs and grones His damned hed ten thousand tymes as oft his weryed bones He beats And often puffing makes and roors and swels and sweats And on the Gods for death he calles for Death he styll entreats Three tymes he dyd begyn to speake and thryse his tong dyd stay At length he cried out alowd O wretche Away away Away thou monstrous Beast he sayd Wilt thou prolong thy lyfâ— Nay rather som man stryke this brest with stroke of bludy knyfe Or all you Gods aboue on me your flamyng fyers outcast And dints of Thunderbolts down â—hrow This is my Prayer last What gredy vile deuouring Gâ—â—pe vpon my guts wyll gnaw What Tigre fierce my hatefull limâ— wyll quight asundre draw Loe here I am you Gods Loe here wreke now on me your wyllâ— Now now you fyry feends of Hell of vengeaunce take your fyll Send out som wild outrageous beast send Dogs me to deuoure Or els all yls you can deuyse at once vpon me powre O wofull soule O synfull wretche Why dost thou feare to dye Death only rids froÌ„ woes y u knowst Than stoutly Death defye With that his bluddy fatall Blade from out his sheath he drawes And lowd he cryes What now thou beast Why dost thou pawes Thy father y u hast slayn Thou thou Thou Cayteyf vyle Thou wretch y u Slaue y u Beast y u dost thy Mothers Bed defyle And Brothers y u hast got Nay Sons Sons Thou liest thy brothers all Thei ar Thus for thy monstrouâ— lust thy Countrey downe doth fall And thynkst thou than for al these yls enough so short a payne Thynkst y u the Gods wyll be apeasde yf thou forthwith be slayne So many mischiefs don And ist enough one stroke to byde Accownst â—hou it sufficient payne that once thy Blade shulde glyde Quight thrugh thy gilty guts for all Why then dispatche and dye So maist thou recoÌ„pence thy Fathers death sufficiently Let it be so What mends vnto thy Mother wylt thou makâ— Unto thy children what These plags how wylt thou slakâ— That al for theâ— thy Couâ—trey wasts One push shall ende them all A propre fetche A fyne deuyse For thee a worthy fall Inuent thou Monstrous Beast A fall ene worthy for The selfe inuent whom al mâ—n hate and loth and do abhor And as Dame Natures lawful cours is brooke thou wretche by thee So let to suche a mischiefe great thy Death agrâ—yng bee O that I might a thousand tymes my wretched lyfe renewe O that I myght reuyue and dye by Course in ordre dewe Ten hundred thousand tymes more Than shuld I vengeaunce take Upon this wretched pate Than I perhaps in part shuld make A meete amends outright for this my fowle and lothsom Syn. Than shuld y e proofe of payn reproue the lyfe that I lyue in The choyse is in thy hand y u wretche than vse thyne owne discretion And fynde a means wherby y u mayst com to extreme confusion And that y t oft thou mayst not doo let it prolonged bee Thus thus maist y u procure at length an endles Death to thee Serche out a death wherby y u mayst perpetuall shame obtayne And yet not dye But styll to lyue in euerlastyng payne Why stayst thou man Go to I say What meane these blubbring tears Why weepst thou thus Alas to late Leaue of thy foolysh feares And ist enough to weepe thinkst thou shall teares and waylyng serue No wretche it shall not be Thou dost ten thousand deaths deserue Myne eyes do dally with me I see and teares do styll out powre Shall gushyng teares suffice Not so I shall them better scowre Out w t thyne eyes he sayd And than with Fury fierce inflamd Lyke to a bludy ragyng Feend and Monstrous Beast vntamd With fyery flamyng spotted cheekes his brest he often beats And scratch and teare his face he doth and Skyn asundre freats That scarse his eies in hed could stand so sore he them besets With furyous fierce outrageous mynd he stamps cries alowd And roors rayls w t rampyng rage Thus in this case he stood Perplext and vexed sore in mynd with deadly sighs and teares When sodenly all franticklyke hymself from ground he rears And rooteth out his wretched eyes And syght asundre tears Than gnasheth he his bludy teeth and bites and gnawes champs His eiâ—s all bathd and brued in blood for fury fierce he stamps And ragyng more than nedes alas his eyes quight rooted out The very holes in vayn he scrapes so sore the wretche doth dâ—ut Least syght shuld chaunce for to remayn he rents mangls quight His face his eyes his nose his mouth And all wheron his hands do lyght He rygs ryues Thus fowly rayd alas in pyteous plyght At length his head aloft he lyfts and therwith gyues a shright And whan he sees that all is gone both lyght and syght and all Than schriching owt he thus begyns vpon the Gods to call Now spare you Gods spare now my Countrey prest to fall I haue done that you dyd coÌ„maund Your wraths reuenged bee This wretched looke this mangled