the more How much the wished conquest at the first Fell happily vnto the towne of Thebes But wise men ought with patience to sustaine The sundrie haps that slipperie fortune frames Nuncius commeth in by the gates Electrae Nun. Alas who can direct my hastie steppes Vnto the brother of our wofull Quéene But loe where carefully he standeth here Cre. If so the minde may dread his owne mishap Then dread I much this man that séekes me thus Hath brought the death of my beloued sonne Nun. My Lorde the thing you feare is very true Your sonne Meneceus no longer liues Cre. Alas who can withstand the heauenly powers Well it beséemes not me ne yet my yeares In bootelesse plaint to wast my wailefull teares Do thou recount to me his lucklesse deathe The order forme and manner of the same Nun. Your sonne my Lorde came to Eteocles And tolde him this in presence of the rest Renoumed King neither your victorie Ne yet the safetie of this princely Realme In armour doth consist but in the death Of me of me O most victorious King So heauenly dome of mightie Ioue commaunds I knowing what auayle my death should yéeld Vnto your grace and vnto natiue land Might well be déemde a most vngratefull sonne Vnto this worthy towne if I would shunne The sharpest death to do my countrie good In mourning wéede now let the vestall Nimphes With fainyng tunes commend my faultlesse ghost To highest heauens while I despoyle my selfe That afterwarde sith Ioue will haue it so To saue your liues I may receyue my death Of you I craue O curteous Citizens To shrine my corps in tombe of marble stone Whereon graue this Meneceus here doth lie For countries cause that was content to die This saide alas he made no more a doe But drewe his sword and sheathde it in his brest Cre. No more I haue inough returne ye nowe From whence ye came Nuncius returneth by the gates Electrae Well since the bloud of my beloued sonne Must serue to slake the wrath of angrie Ioue And since his onely death must bring to Thebes A quiet ende of hir vnquiet state Me thinkes good reason would that I henceforth Of Thebane soyle should beare the kingly swaye Yea sure and so I will ere it belong Either by right or else by force of armes Of al mishap loe here the wicked broode My sister first espoused hath hir sonne That slewe his fire of whose accursed séede Two brethren sprang whose raging hatefull hearts By force of boyling yre are bolne so sore As each do thyrst to sucke the others bloude But why do I sustaine the smart hereof Why should my bloud be spilt for others gilte Oh welcome were that messenger to me That brought me word of both my nephewes deathes Then should it soone be sene in euery eye Twixt prince and prince what difference would appeare Then should experience shewe what griefe it is To serue the humours of vnbridled youth Now will I goe for to prepare with spéede The funerals of my yong giltlesse sonne The which perhaps may be accompanyed With th' obsequies of proude Eteocles Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes Finis Actus 4. Actus 4. CHORVS O Blisful concord bredde in sacred brest Of him that guides the restlesse rolling sky That to the earth for mans assured rest From heigth of heauens vouchsafest downe to flie In thée alone the mightie power doth lie With swete accorde to kepe the frouning starres And euery planet else from hurtfull warres In thée in thée such noble vertue bydes As may commaund the mightiest Gods to bend From thée alone such sugred frendship slydes As mortall wightes can scarcely comprehend To greatest strife thou setst delightfull ende O holy peace by thée are onely founde The passing ioyes that euery where abound Thou onely thou through thy celestiall might Didst first of al the heauenly pole deuide From th' olde confused heape that Chaos hight Thou madste the Sunne the Moone and starres to glide With ordred course about this world so wide Thou hast ordainde Dan Tytans shining light By dawne of day to chase the darkesome night When tract of time returnes the lustie Ver. By thée alone the buddes and blossomes spring The fieldes with floures be garnisht euery where The blooming trées aboundant fruite do bring The cherefull birds melodiously do sing Thou dost appoint the crop of sommers séede For mans reliefe to serue the winters néede Thou doest inspire the heartes of princely péeres By prouidence procéeding from aboue In flowring youth to choose their worthie féeres With whome they liue in league of lasting loue Till fearefull death doth flitting life remoue And loke how fast to death man payes his due So fast againe doste thou his stocke renue By thée the basest thing aduaunced is Thou euerie where dost graffe such golden peace As filleth man with more than earthly blisse The earth by thée doth yelde hir swete increase At becke of thée all bloudy discords cease And mightiest Realmes in quiet do remaine Wheras thy hand doth holde the royall raine But if thou faile then al things gone to wracke The mother then doth dread hir naturall childe Then euery towne is subiect to the sacke Then spotlesse maids the virgins be defilde Then rigor rules then reason is exilde And this thou wofull Thebes to our great paine With present spoile art likely to sustaine Me thinke I heare the wailfull wéeping cries Of wretched dames in euerie coast resound Me thinkes I sée how vp to heauenly skies From battred walls the thundring clappes rebound Me thinke I heare how all things go to ground Me thinke I sée how souldiers wounded lye With gasping breath and yet they can not dye By meanes wherof oh swete Meneceus he That giues for countries cause his guiltlesse life Of others all most happy shall he be His ghost shall flit from broiles of bloudy strife To heauenly blisse where pleasing ioyes be rife And would to God that this his fatall ende From further plagues our citie might defend O sacred God giue eare vnto thy thrall That humbly here vpon thy name doth call O let not now our faultlesse bloud be spilt For hote reuenge of any others gilt Finis Actus quarti Done by F. Kinwelmarshe The order of the laste dumbe shevve FIrst the Stillpipes sounded a very mournful melody in which time came vpon the Stage a womā clothed in a white garment on hir head a piller double faced the formost face fair smiling the other behinde blacke louring muffled with a white laune about hir eyes hir lap ful of Iewelles sitting in a charyot hir legges naked hir fete set vpō a great roūd bal beyng drawē in by .iiij. noble personages she led in a string on hir right hand .ij. kings crowned and in hir lefte hand .ij. poore slaues very meanly attyred After she was drawen about the stage she stayed a little changing the kings vnto the left hande the slaues
stande on Shooters hill Till rents come in to please their wicked will. Some fansies hopes by lies to come on floate As for to tell their frends and kinne great tales What wealth they lost in coyne and many a coate What powder packt in coffers and in males What they must pay and what their charge will be Wherin they meane to saue themselues a fee. Some fansies eke forecast what life to wéelde When libertie shall graunted be at last And in the aire such castles gan they builde That many times they fall againe as fast For Fansie hinders Grace from glories crowne As Tares and Byndes can plucke good graine adowne Who list therfore by Fetters frute to haue Take Fansie first out of his priuy thought And when thou hast him cast him in the waue Of Lethes lake for sure his séede is nought The gréene Knight he of whome I late did tell Mine Author sayth badde Fansie thus farewell The greene Knights farewell to Fansie FAnsie quoth he farewell whose badge I long did beare And in my hat full harebrayndly thy flowers did I weare To late I finde at last thy frutes are nothing worth Thy blossomes fall fade full fast though brauerie bring thē forth By thée I hoapt alwayes in déepe delights to dwel But since I finde thy ficklenesse Fansie quoth he farewell Thou madste me liue in loue which wisedome biddes me hate Thou bleardst mine eies madste me thinke that faith was mine by fate By thée those bitter swéetes did please my taste alway By thee I thought that loue was light and payne was but a play I thought that Bewties blase was méete to beare the bell And since I finde my selfe deceyued Fansie quoth he farewell The glosse of gorgeous courtes by thée did please mine eye A stately fight me thought it was to sée the braue go by To sée their feathers flaunte to marke their straunge deuise To lie along in Ladies lappes to lispe and make it nice To fawne and flatter both I liked sometimes well But since I see how vayne it is Fansie quoth he farewell When court had cast me off I toyled at the plowe My fansie stoode in straunge conceipts to thriue I wote not how By mils by making malte by shéepe and eke by swyne By ducke and drake by pigge and goose by calues kéeping kine By féeding bullockes fat when pryce at markets fell But since my swaines eat vp my gaines Fansie quoth he farewell In hunting of the deare my fansie tooke delight All forests knew my folly still the mooneshine was my light In frosts I felt no cold a sunneburnt hew was best I sweate and was in temper still my watching séemed rest What daungers déepe I past it follie were to tell And since I sigh to thinke thereon Fansie quoth he farewell A fansie fedde me ones to wryte in verse and rime To wray my griefe to craue reward to couer still my crime To frame a long discourse on sturring of a strawe To rumble rime in raffe and ruffe yet all not worth an hawe To heare it sayde there goeth the Man that writes so well But since I sée what Poetes bée Fansie quoth he farewell At Musickes sacred sounde my fansies eft begonne In concordes discordes notes and cliffes in tunes of vnisonne In Hyerarchies and straynes in restes in rule and space In monacordes and mouing moodes in Burdens vnder base In descants and in chants I streined many a yel But since Musicians be so madde Fansie quoth he farewell To plant straunge countrie fruites to sow such séedes likewise To digge delue for new foūd rootes where old might wel suffise To proyne the water bowes to picke the mossie trées Oh how it pleasd my fansie ones to knéele vpon my knées To griffe a pippine stocke when sappe begins to swell But since the gaynes scarce quite the cost Fansie quoth he farewell Fansie quoth he farewell which made me follow drommes Where powdred bullets serues for sauce to euery dish that cōmes Where treason lurkes in trust where Hope all hartes beguiles Where mischief lieth still in wayte when fortune friendly smiles Where one dayes prison prones that all such heauens are hell And such I féele the frutes thereof Fansie quoth he farewell If reason rule my thoughts and God vouchsafe me grace Then comfort of Philosophie shall make me chaunge my race And fonde I shall it finde that Fansie settes to showe For weakely stāds that building still which lacketh grace by low But since I must accept my fortunes as they fell I say God send me better spéede and Fansie now farewell Epilogismus SEe swéete deceipt that can it self beguile Behold selfe loue which walketh in a net And séemes vnséene yet shewes it selfe therewhile Before such eyes as are in science set The Gréene knight here leaues out his firelocke péece That Fancie hath not yet his last farewell When Foxes preach good folke beware your géese But holla here my muse to farre doth mell Who list to marke what learned preacher sayeth Must learne withall for to beleeue his lore But what he doth that toucheth nomans fayth Though words with workes agréed persuade the more The mounting kite oft lights on homely pray And wisest wittes may sometimes go astray FINIS Tam Marti quà m Mercurio The pleasant Fable of Ferdinando Ieronomi and Leonora de Valasco translated out of the Italian riding tales of Bartello IN the pleasant Countrie of Lombardie and not farre from the Citie of Florence there was dwelling sometimes a Lorde of many riche Seignories and dominions who neuerthelesse bare his name of the Castle of Valasco this Lord had one only sonne and two daughters his sonne was called during the life of his father the heyre of Valasco who maried a faire Gentlewoman of the house of Bellauista named Leonora the elder daughter of the Lord of Valasco was called Francischina a yong woman very toward bothe in capacitie and other actiue qualities Nowe the Lord of Valasco hauing already maried his sonne heyre and himselfe drawing in age was desirous to sée his daughters also bestowed before his death and especially the eldest who both for beutie and ripenesse of age might often put him in remembrance that shée was a collop of his owne fleshe and therefore sought meanes to draw vnto his house Ferdinando Ieronimi a yong gentleman of Venice who delighting more in hawking hunting and such other pastimes than he did in studie had left his owne house in Venice and was come into Lombardie to take the pleasures of the countrie So that the Lorde of Valasco knowing him to be of a very good parentage and therewithall not onely riche but adorned with sundrie good qualities was desirous as is sayd to drawe him home to his house vnder pretence of hunting and hawking to the end he might beholde his fayre daughter Francischina who both for parentage and other worldly respects might no lesse content his minde than hir beautie was likely to
liue and such a life leade I. The Sunny dayes which gladde the saddest wightes Yet neuer shine to cleare my misty moone No quiet sléepe amidde the mooneshine nightes Can close mine eyes when I am woe begone Into such shades my péeuishe sorrowe shrowdes That Sunne and Moone are styll to me in clowdes And feuerlike I féede my fancie styll With such repast as most empaires my health Which feuer first I caught by wanton wyll When coles of kind dyd stirre my blood by stealth And gazing eyes in bewtie put such trust That loue enflamd my liuer al with lust My fits are lyke the feuer Ectick fits Which one daye quakes within and burnes without The next day heate within the boosoms sits And shiuiring colde the body goes about So is my heart most hote when hope is colde And quaketh most when I most heate behold Tormented thus without delayes I stand All wayes in one and euermore shal be In greatest griefe when helpe is nearest hand And best at ease if death might make me frée Delighting most in that which hurtes my heart And hating change which might relieue my smart Yet you deare dame to whome this cure pertaines Deuise by times some drammes for my disease A noble name shall be your greatest gaines Whereof be sure if you wyll worke mine ease And though fond fooles set forth their fittes as fast Yet graunt with me that my straunge passion past Euer or neuer ¶ A straunge passion of a Louer AMid my Bale I hath in blisse I swim in heauen I sinke in hell I find amends for euery misse And yet my moane no tongue can tell I liue and loue what wold you more As neuer louer liu'd before I laugh sometimes with little lust So iest I oft and féele no ioye Myne ease is builded all on trust And yit mistrust bréedes myne anoye I liue and lacke I lacke and haue I haue and misse the thing I craue These things séeme strange yet are they trew Beléeue me sweete my state is such One pleasure which I wold eschew Both slakes my grief and breedes my grutch So doth one paine which I would shoon Renew my ioyes where grief begoon Then like the larke that past the night In heauy sleepe with cares opprest Yit when shee spies the pleasaunt light She sends sweete notes from out hir brest So sing I now because I thinke How ioyes approch when sorrowes shrinke And as fayre Philomene againe Can watch and singe when other sleepe And taketh pleasure in hir payne To wray the woo that makes hir weepe So sing I now for to bewray The lothsome life I lead alway The which to thée deare wenche I write That know'st my mirth but not my moane I praye God graunt thée déepe delight To liue in ioyes when I am gone I cannot liue it wyll not bée I dye to thinke to part from thée Ferendo Natura ¶ The Diuorce of a Louer DIuorce me nowe good death from loue and lingring life That one hath bene my concubine that other was my wife In youth I liued with loue she had my lustye dayes In age I thought with lingering life to stay my wādering wais But now abusde by both I come for to complaine To thée good death in whom my helpe doth wholy now remain My libell loe behold wherein I doe protest The processe of my plaint is true in which my griefe doth rest First loue my concubine whome I haue kept so trimme Euen she for whome I séemd of yore in seas of ioy to swimme To whome I dare auowe that I haue serued as well And played my part as gallantly as he that heares the hell She cast me of long since and holdes me in disdaine I cannot pranke to please hir nowe my vaunting is but vaine My writhled chéekes bewraye that pride of heate is past My stagring steppes eke tell the trueth that nature fadeth fast My quaking crooked ioyntes are combred with the crampe The boxe of oyle is wasted wel which once dyd féede my lampe The gréenesse of my yeares doth wyther now so sore That lusty loue leapes quite awaye and lyketh me no more And loue my lemman gone what lyking can I take In lothsome lyfe that croked croane although she be my make Shée cloyes me with the cough hir comfort is but cold She bids me giue mine age for almes wher first my youth was sold No day can passe my head but she beginnes to brall No mery thoughts conceiued so fast but she confounds them al. When I pretend to please she ouerthwarts me still When I would faynest part with hir she ouerwayes my will. Be iudge then gentle death and take my cause in hand Consider euery circumstaunce marke how the case doth stand Percase thou wilte aledge that cause thou canst none sée But that I like not of that one that other likes not me Yea gentle iudge giue eare and thou shalt see me proue My concubine incontinent a common whore is loue And in my wyfe I find such discord and debate As no man liuing can endure the tormentes of my state Wherefore thy sentence say deuorce me from them both Since only thou mayst right my wronges good death nowe he not loath But cast thy pearcing dart into my panting brest That I may leaue both loue and life thereby purchase rest Haud ictus sapio ¶ The Lullabie of a Louer SIng lullaby as women doe Wherewith they bring their babes to rest And lullaby can I sing to As womanly as can the best With lullaby they still the childe And if I be not much beguild Full many wanton babes haue I Which must be stild with lullabie First lullaby my youthfull yeares It is nowe time to go to bed For croocked age and hoary heares Haue wone the hauen with in my head With Lullaby then youth be still With Lullaby content thy will Since courage quayles and commes behind Go sleepe and so beguile thy minde Next Lullaby my gazing eyes Which wonted were to glaunce apace For euery Glasse maye nowe suffise To shewe the furrowes in my face With Lullabye then winke awhile With Lullabye your lookes beguile Lette no fayre face nor beautie brighte Entice you efte with vayne delighte And Lullaby my wanton will Lette reasons rule nowe reigne thy thought Since all to late I finde by skyll Howe deare I haue thy fansies bought With Lullaby nowe tak thyne ease With Lullaby thy doubtes appease For trust to this if thou be styll My body shall obey thy will. Eke Lullaby my louing boye My little Robyn take thy rest Since age is colde and nothing coye Keepe close thy coyne for so is best With Lullady be thou content With Lullaby thy lustes relente Lette others pay which hath mo pence Thou art to pore for such expence Thus Lullabye my youth myne eyes My will my ware and all that was I can no mo delayes deuise But welcome payne let pleasure passe With Lullaby now take your leaue
put me from my wonted place And déepe deceipte hath wrought a wyle to wrest me out of grace Wyll home againe to cart as fitter were for mée Then thus in court to serue and starue where such proude porters bée Si fortunatus infoelix ¶ This question being propounded by a Dame vnto the Aucthour to witte why he should write Spreta tamen viuunt he aunswereth thus DEspysed things may liue although they pine in payne And things ofte trodden vnder foote may once yet rise againe The stone that lieth full lowe may clime at last full hye And stand a loft on stately towr's in sight of euery eye The cruell Axe which felles the trée that grew full straight Is worne with rust when it renewes and springeth vp on height The rootes of rotten Réedes in swelling seas are seene And when eche tide hath tost his worst they grow againe ful gréene Thus much to please my selfe vnpleasauntly I sing And shrich to ease my morning minde in spite of enuies sting I am nowe set full light who earst was dearely lou'd Som new foūd choise is more estemd than that which wel was prou'd Some Diomede is crept into Dame Cressides hart And trustie Troylus nowe is taught in vaine to playne his part What resteth then for me but thus to wade in wo And hang in hope of better chaunce when chaunge appointeth so I sée no sight on earth but it to Chaunge enclines As litle clowdes oft ouercast the brightest Sunne that shines No Flower is so freshe but frost can it deface No man so sure in any seate but he maye léese his place So that I stand content though much against my mind To take in worth this lothsome lot which luck to me assynd And trust to sée the time when they that nowe are vp May féele the whirle of fortunes whéele and tast of sorrowes cup. God knoweth I wishe it not it had bene bet for mée Styll to haue kept my quiet chayre in hap of high degrée But since without recure Dame Chaunge in loue must raigne I now wish chaunge that sought no chaūge but constāt did remaine And if suche chaunge do chaunce I vowe to clap my hands And laugh at them which laught at me lo thus my fansie standes Spreta tamen viuunt ¶ In trust is Treason written by a Louer leaning onelye to his Ladies promises and finding them to fayle THe straightest Trée that growes vpon one onely roote If that roote fayle wyll quickly fade no props can do it boote I am that fading plant which on thy grace dyd growe Thy grace is gone wherefore I mone and wither all in woe The tallest ship that sailes if shée too Ancors trust When Ancors slip Cables breake her helpe lyes in the dust I am the ship my selfe mine Ancor was thy faith Which now is fled thy promise broke I am driuen to death Who climeth oft on hie and trusts the rotten bowe If that bow breake may catch a fall such state stand I in now Me thought I was a loft and yet my seate full sure Thy heart dyd séeme to me a rock which euer might endure And sée it was but sand whome seas of subtiltie Haue soked so with wanton waues that faith was forst to flye The flooddes of ficklenesse haue vndermined so The first foundation of my ioy that myrth is ebb'd to wo. Yet at lowe water markes I lye and wayte my time To mend the breach but all in vaine it cannot passe the prime For when the prime flood comes which all this rage begoon Then waues of wyll do worke so fast my piles are ouer roon Dutie and dilligence which are my workmen there Are glad to take vp fooles in haste and run away for feare For fansie hath such force it ouerfloweth all And whispring tales do blow the blasts that make it ryse fall Thus in these tempests tost my restles life doth stand Because I builded on thy wodres as I was borne in hand Thou weart that only stake wereby I ment to stay Alas alas thou stoodst so weake the hedge is borne away By thee I thought to liue by thee now must Idye I made thee my Phisicion thou art my mallady For thee I longde to liue for thée nowe welcome death And welcome be that happie pang that stops my gasping breath Twise happie were that axe would cut my rotes downe right And sacred were that swelling sea which would consume me quight Blest were that bowe would breake to bring downe climing youth Which craks aloft and quakes full oft for feare of thine vntruth Ferenda Natura The constancie of a louer hath thus sometimes bene briefly declared THat selfe same tonge which first did thée entreat To linke thy liking with my lucky loue That trustie tonge must nowe these wordes repeate I loue thee still my fancie cannot moue That dreadlesse hart which durst attempt the thought To win thy will with mine for to consent Maintaines that vow which loue in me first wrought I loue thee still and neuer shall repent That happie hande which hardely did touch Thy tender body to my déepe delight Shall serue with sword to proue my passion such As loues thee still much more than it can write Thus loue I still with tongue hand hart and all And when I chaunge let vengeance on me fall Ferenda Natura ¶ The fruite of foes written to a Gentlewoman who blamed him for writing his friendly aduise in verse vnto another louer of hyrs THe cruell hate which boyles within thy burning brest And séekes to shape a sharpe reuenge on them that loue thée best May warne all faithfull friendes in case of ieopardie Howe they shall put their harmelesse hands betwéene the barck trée And I among the rest which wrote this weary song Must nedes alledge in my defence that thou hast done me wrong For if in simple verse I chaunc'd to touch thy name And toucht the same without reproch was I therefore to blame And if of great good will I gaue my best aduise Then thus to blame without cause why me thinkes thou art not wise Amongst olde written tales this one I beare in mind A simple soule much like my selfe dyd once a serpent find Which almost dead for colde lay moyling in the myre When he for pittie tooke it vp and brought it to the fyre No sooner was the Snake recured of hir griefe But straight shée sought to hurt the man that lent hir such reliefe Such Serpent séemest thou such simple soule am I That for the weight of my good wil am blam'd without cause why But as it best beseemes the harmelesse gentle hart Rather to take an open wrong than for to plaine his part I must and will endure thy spite without repent The blame is mine the triumph thine and I am well content Meritum petere graue A Louer often warned and once againe drouen into fantasticall flames by the chase of company doth thus bewayle his misfortunes I That
O noble king to thée That I haue béene a Rebell in my youth I preast alwaies in pleasures court to bée I fled from that which Cupide still eschuth I fled from Care lo now I tell the truth And in delightes I loued so to dwell Thy heauenly house dyd séeme to me but hell Such was my rage the which I now repent And pardon craue My soule to saue Before the webbe of weary life be spent But marke what fruites dyd grow on such a trée What crop dyd rise vpon so rashe sowne séede For when I thought my selfe in heauen to bée In depth of hell I drowned was in déede Whereon to thinke my heauie hart doth bléede Me thought I swumme in Seas of all delight When as I sunke in puddles of despight Alas alas I thought my selfe belou'd When deadly hate Did play checke mate With me poore pawne that no such prancks had prou'd This when I tryed ay me to be to true I wept for woe I pined all for paine I tare my héere I often chaunged hewe I left delight with dollours to complaine I shund each place where pleasure dyd remaine I cride I calde on euery kinde of death I stroue eache way to stop my fainting breath Short tale to make I stept so farre in strife That still I sought With all my thought Some happie helpe to leaue my lothed life But hope was he that held my hande abacke From quicke dispatch of all my griping griefe When heate of hate had burnt my will to wracke Then hope was colde and lent my life reliefe In euery choice hope challengde to be chiefe When coldest crampes had cleane orecome my heart Then hope was hote and warnde my weary smart Then heart was heardie hope was still in dread When heart was faint With feares attaint Then hardie hope held vp my fearefull head Thus when I found that neither flowing teares Could drowne my heart in waues of wery wo Nor hardy hand could ouercome my feares To cut the sacke of all my sorrowes so Nor death would come nor I to death could go And yet I felt great droppes of secrete smart Distilling styll within my dying heart I then perceiude that onely care was he Which as my friend Might make an end Of all these paines and set my fansie frée Wherefore oh Care graunt thou my iust request Oh kyll my corpse oh quickly kyll me nowe Oh make an ende and bring my bones to rest Oh cut my thread good Care I care not howe Oh Care be kinde and here I make a vowe That when my life out of my brest shall part I wyll present thée with my faithfull hart And send it to thée as a Sacrifice Bicause thou hast Vouchsaft at last To ende my furies in this friendly wise Fato non Fortuna WHat greater glory can a Keysar gaine If madde moode moue his subiectes to rebell Than that at last when all the traytours traine Haue trode the pathe of déepe repentaunce well And naked néede with Cold and Hunger both Hath bitten them abrode in forren land Whereby they may their lewde deuises loth When hairbraind haste with cold aduise is scande If then at last they come vpon their knée And pardon craue with due submission And for this cause I thinke that Care of me Was moued most to take compassion For now I find that pittie prickes his mind To sée me plonged still in endlesse paine And right remorse his princely heart doth bind To rule the rage wherein I do remaine I féele my teares doe now begin to stay For Care from them their swelling springs doth soke I feele my sighes their labours now allaye For Care hath quencht the coles that made thē smoke I feele my panting heart begins to rest For Care hath staide the hammers of my head I feele the flame which blazed in my brest Is nowe with carefull ashes ouerspread And gentle Care hath whet his karuing knife To cut in twaine the thread of all my thrall Desired death nowe ouercommeth life And wo still workes to helpe in haste with all But since I féele these panges approching so And lothed life begin to take his leaue Me thinkes it meete to giue before I go Such landes and goodes as I behind me leaue So to discharge my troubled conscience And eke to set an order for my heyre Who might perhaps be put to great expence To sue for that which I bequeath him here Wherefore déere wenche with all my full intent I thus begin to make my Testament Fato non fortuna His last wyll and Testament IN Ioue his mighty name this eight and twentith day Of frosted bearded Ianuar the enemy to May Since Adam was create fiue thousand yéeres I gesse Fiue hundreth forty more and fiue as stories do expresse I being whole of minde immortall Gods haue praise Though in my body languishing with panges of paine alwayes Do thus ordaine my wyll which long in woes haue wepte Beséeching mine executours to sée it duely kept Fyrst I bequeath my soule on Charons boate to tende Vntill thy life my loue at last may light on luckye ende That there it may awaite to wayte vpon thy ghost Whē thou hast quite clene forgot what pranks now please thée most So shall it well be séene whose loue is like to mine For so I meane to trye my truth and there tyll then to pine My body he enbalmde and cloased vp in chest With oyntments and with spiceries of euery swéete the best And so preserued styll vntill the day do come That death diuorce my loue from life trusse hir vp in tombe Then I bequeath my corps to couche beneathe hir bones And there to féede the gréedy wormes that linger for the nones To frette vppon her fleshe which is to fine therefore This seruice may it doe hir yet although it do no more My heart as heretofore I must bequeathe to Care And God he knowes I thinke the gift to simple for his share But that he may perceiue I meane to pay my dew I will it shall be taken quicke and borne him bléeding new As for my funerals I leaue that toye at large To be as mine executours wyll giue thereto in charge Yet if my goodes will stretche vnto my strange deuice Then let this order be obseru'd mine heyre shall pay the price First let the torche bearers be wrapte in weedes of woe Let all their lightes be virgin waxe because I lou'de it so And care not though the twist be course that lends them light If fansie fume frée wil flame then must they néeds burn bright Next them let come the quier with psalmes and dolefull song Recording all my rough repulse and wraying all my wrong And when the deskant singes in tréeble tunes aboue Then let fa burden say by lowe I liu'd and dyde for loue About my heauy hearse some mourners would I haue Who migh the same accompany and stand about the graue But let them be such
And flée the fielde when combate should be callde Ete. This truce assureth thée Polynices And makes thée bolde to giue such bosting wordes So be thou sure that had this truce not bene Then long erethis these handes had bene embrude And eke this soyle besprinkled with thy bloude Po. Not one small drop of my bloude shalt thou spill But buy it deare against thy cankred will. Ioc. O sonnes my sonnes for pittie yet refrayne Ch. Good Gods who euer sawe so strange a sight True loue and frindship both be put to flight Po. Yelde villein yelde my right which thou witholdst Ete. Cut of thy hope to reigne in Thebane walles Nought hast thou here nor nought shal euer haue Away Po. O aultars of my countrie soyle Ete. Whome thou art come to spoyle and to deface Po. O Gods giue eare vnto my honest cause Ete. With forreine power his countrie to inuade Po. O holy temples of the heauenly Gods. Ete. That for thy wicked déedes do hate thy name Po. Out of my kingdome am I driuen by force Ete. Out of the which thou camst me for to driue Po. Punish O Gods this wicked tyrant here Ete. Pray to the Gods in Greece and not in Thebes Po. No sauage beast so cruell nor vniust Ete. Not cruel to my countrie like to thée Po. Since from my right I am with wrong depriued Ete. Eke from thy life if long thou tarie here Po. O father heare what iniuries I take Ete. As though thy diuelishe déedes were hid from him Po. And you mother Eteo. Haue done thou not deseruest With that false tong thy mother once to name Po. O deare Citie Eteo. When thou ariuest in Greece Chuse out thy dwelling in some mustie Moores Po. I must departe and parting must I prayse Oh deare mother the depth of your good will. Ioc. O sonne Eteo. Away I say out of these walls Po. I can not chuse but must thy will obey Yet graunt me once my father for to sée Ete. I heare no prayers of my enemie Po. Where be my swéete sisters Eteo. And canst thou yet With shamelesse tong once name thy noble race That art become a common foe to Thebes Be sure thou shall them neuer sée againe Nor other friend that in these walls remaine Po. Rest you in peace O worthy mother myne Ioc. Howe can that be and thou my ioye in warre Po. Hence forth n'am I your ioyne yet your sonne Ioc. Alas the heauens me whelme with all mishap Po. Lo here the cause that stirreth me by wrong Ete. Much more is that he profereth vnto me Po. Well speake darest thou come armed to the fielde Ete. So dare I come wherfore dost thou demaunde Po. For néeds or thou must ende this life of mine Or quenche my thirst with pouring out thy bloud Eteo. Ah wretch my thirst is all as drie as thine Ioc. Alas and welaway what heare I sonnes How can it be deare children can it be That brethrens heartes such rancour should enrage Eteo. And that right soone the proofe shall playnely shew Io. Oh say not so yet say not so deare sonnes Po. O royall race of Thebes now take thine ende Cho. God shield Eteo. O slow sluggish heart of mine Why do I stay t'embrew these slothfull hands But for his greater griefe I will departe And at returne if here I finde my foe This hastie hande shall ende our hote debate Eteocles here goeth out by the gates Electrae Po. Deare Citizens and you eternall Gods Beare witnesse with me here before the worlde How this my fierce and cruell enimie Whom causelesse now my brother I do call With threates of death my lingring steps doth driue Both from my right and from my countrey soyle Not as beséemes the sonne of Oedipus But as a slaue an abiect or a wretche And since you be both pitifull and iuste Vouchsafe O Gods that as I part with griefe So may I yet returne with ioyfull spoyle Of this accursed tyraunt and he slayne I may recouer quietly mine owne Polynice goeth out by the gates Homoloides Io. O wretched wretch Iocasta wher is founde The miserie that may compare to thine O would I had nor gasing eyes to sée Nor listning eares to heare that now I dread But what remaines saue onely to entreate That cruell dole wold yet so curteous be To reaue the breath out of this wofull brest Before I harken to some wofull newes Rest you here dames and pray vnto the Gods For our redresse and I in that meane while Will shut my selfe from sight of lothsome light Iocasta goeth into hir Pallace Cho. O mightie God the gouernour of Thebes Pitie with spéede the payne Iocasta bydes And eke our néedes O mightie Bacchus helpe Bende willing eare vnto our iust complaint Leaue them not comfortlesse that trust in thee We haue no golde nor siluer thée to giue Ne sacrifice to those thine aultars due In stéede wherof we consecrate our harts To serue thy will and hestes for to obey VVhyles the Chorus is thus praying to Bacchus Eteocles returneth by the gates called Electrae Actus 2. Scena 2. ETEOCLES CREON. SInce I haue ridde mine enmie out of sight The best shall be for Creon now to sende My mothers brother that with him I may Reason consulte conferre and counsell bothe What shall be best to vse in our defence Before we venter forth into the fielde But of this trauayle loe he me acquites That comes in haste towards these royall towres Here Creon attended by foure gentlemen commeth in by the gates Homoloydes Cre. O mightie king not causelesse nowe I come To finde that long haue sought your maistie So to discharge the duetie that I owe To you by comforte and by counsell bothe Ete. No lesse desire this harte of mine did presse To send for thée Creon since that in vaine My mother hath hir words and trauayle spent To reconcile Polynices and me For he so dull was his caparitie Did thinke he could by dread of daunger winne My princely heart to yéeld to him his realme Cre. I vnderstande the armie that he brings Agaynst these walles is such that I me doubte Our cities force may scarce the same resist Yet true it is that right and reason both Are on our side which bring the victorie Oftetimes for we our countrey to defend They to subdue the same in armes are come But what I would vnto your highnesse shewe Is of more weight and more behoues to know Ete. And what is that oh quickly tell it me Cre. A Gréeke prisner is come vnto my hands Ete. And what sayth he that doth so much importe Cre. That euen alredy by their ranks in raye And streight will giue assault to these our walles Ete. Then must I streight prepare our Citizens In glittring arms to march into the fielde Cre. O Prince and pardon me thy youthfull yers Nor sée them selfe ne let thée once discerne What best behoueth in this doubtfull case For Prudence she that
than this I lyst not say Cre. Alas for curtesie Say on Tyresias neuer haue respect To any liuing man but tell the truth Sacerdos returneth with the Bacchanales by the gates Homoloides Sac. In this meane while I will returne with spéede From whence I came for lawfull is it not That suche as I should heare your secresies Tyr. Contrary then to that which I haue sayde The incest foule and childbirth monstruous Of Iocasta so stirres the wrath of Ioue This citie shall with bloudy channels swimme And angry Mars shall ouercome it all With famine flame rape murther dole and death These lustie towres shall haue a headlong fall These houses burnde and all the rest be razde And soone be sayde here whilome Thebes stoode One onely way I finde for to escape Which bothe would thée displease to heare it tolde And me to tell percase were perillous Thée therfore with my trauell I commende To Ioue and with the rest I will endure What so shall chaunce for our aduersitie Cre. Yet stay a whyle Tyr. Creon make me not stay By force Cre. Why fléest thou Tyr. Syr t is not from thée I flée but from this fortune foule and fell Cre. Yet tell me what behoues the citie doe Tyr. Thou Creon séemest now desirous still It to preserue but if as well as I Thou knewest that which is to thée vnknowne Then wouldst thou not so soone consent thereto Cre. And would not I with eagre minde desire The thing that may for Thebes ought auayle Tyr. And dost thou then so instantly request To know which way thou mayest the same preserue Cre. For nothing else I sent my sonne of late To séeke for thée Tyr. Then will I satisfie Thy gréedie minde in this but first tell me Menetius where is he Cre. Not farre from me Tyr. I pray thée sende him out some other where Cre. Why wouldest thou that he should not be here Tyr. I would not haue him heare what I should say Cre. He is my sonne ne will he it reueale Tyr. And shall I then while he is present speake Cre. Yea be thou sure that he no lesse than I Doth wishe full well vnto this common weale Tyr. Then Creon shalt thou knowe the meane to saue This Citie is that thou shalt flea thy sonne And of his bodie make a sacrifice For his countrey lo héere is all you séeke So much to knowe and since you haue me forst To tell the thing that I would not haue tolde If I haue you offended with my words Blame then your selfe and eke your frowarde fate Cre. Oh cruel words oh oh what hast thou sayde Thou cruell sothsayer Tyr. Euen that that heauen Hath ordeined once and néedes it must ensue Cre. How many euils hast thou knit vp in one Tyr. Though euill for thée yet for thy countrey good Cre. And let my countrey perishe what care I Tyr. Aboue all things we ought to holde it deare Cre Cruell were he that would not loue his childe Tyr. For coÌ„moÌ„ weale were well that one man waile Cre. To loose mine owne I liste none other saue Tyr. Best Citizens care least for priuat gayne Cre. Depart for nowe with all thy prophecies Tyr. Lo thus the truth doth alwayes hatred get Cre. Yet pray I thée by these thy siluer heares Tyr. The harme that coÌ„mes from heauen can not be scapt Cre. And by thy holy spirite of prophecie Tyr. What heauen hath done that cannot I vndoe Cre. That to no moe this secrete thou reueale Tyr. And wouldst thou haue me learne to make a lye Cre. I pray thée hold thy peace Tyr. That will I not But in thy woe to yéelde thée some reliefe I tell thée once thou shalt be Lorde of Thebes Which happe of thine this string did well declare Which from the heart doth out alonely growe So did the péece corrupted playnly shewe An argument most euident to proue Thy sonne his death Cre. Well yet be thou content To kéepe full close this secrete hidden griefe Tyr. I neither ought ne will kéepe it so close Cre. Shall I be then the murtherer of mine owne Tyr. Ne blame not me but blame the starres for this Cre. Can heauens condemne but him alone to dye Tyr. We ought beléeue the cause is good and iust Cre. Vniust is he condemnes the innocent Tyr. A foole is he accuseth heauens of wrongs Cre. There can no ill thing come from heaueÌ„s aboue Tyr. Then this that heauen commaunds can not be ill Cre. I not beléeue that thou hast talkt with God. Tyr. Bicause I tell thée that doth thée displease Cre. Out of my sight accursed lying wretch Tyr. Go daughter go oh what foole is he That puts in vre to publish prophecies For if he do fore tell a froward fate Though it be true yet shall he purchase hate And if he silence kéepe or hide the truth The heauy wrath of mightie Gods ensuth Appollo he might well tell things to come That had no dread the angry to offende But hye we daughter hence some other way Tyresias with Manto his daughter returneth by the gates called Electrae Scena 2. CREON. MENECEVS OH my deare childe well hast thou heard with eare These wéery newes or rather wicked tales That this deuine of thée deuined hath Yet will thy father neuer be thy foe With cruell doome thy death for to consent Me. You rather ought O father to consent Vnto my death since that my death may bring Vnto this towne both peace and victorie Ne can I purchase more prayse worthy death Than for my countries wealth to lose my breath Cre. I cannot prayse this witlesse will of thine Me. You know deare father that this life of ours Is brittle short and nothing else in déede But tedious toyle and pangs of endlesse payne And death whose darte to some men séemes so fell Brings quiet ende to this vnquiet life Vnto which ende who soonest doth arriue Fiâ—â—s soonest rest of all his restlesse griefe And were it so that here on earth we felte No pricke of paine nor that our flattring dayes Were neuer dasht by froward fortunes frowne Yet béeing borne as all men are to dye Were not this worthy glory and renowne To yéelde the countrey soyle where I was borne For so long time so shorte a time as mine I can not thinke that this can be denied Then if to shunne this haughtie high behest Mine onely cause O father doth you moue Be sure you séeke to take from me your sonne The greatest honor that I can attayne But if your owne commoditie you moue So much the lesse you ought the same allowe For looke how much the more you haue in Thebes So much the more you ought to loue the same Here haue you Hemone he that in my steade O my deare father may with you remaine So that although you be depriued of me Yet shall you not be quite depriued of heires Cre. I can not chuse deare sonne but disalowe This
thy too hastie hote desire of death For if thy life thou settest all so lighte Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect Who as I drawe the more to lumpishe age So much more néede haue I to craue thine ayde Ne will I yet with stubborne tong denye That for his common weale to spende his life Doth win the subiect high renoumed name But howe in armour to defende the state Not like a beast to bléede in sacrifice And therwithal if any shoulde consent To such a death then should the same be I That haue prolonged life euen long enough Nay many dayes haue I nowe to drawe on And more auaile might to the countrie come Deare sonne to hold that lustie life of thine That art both yong and eke of courage stout Than may by me that féeble am and olde Then liue deare sonne in high prosperitie And giue me leaue that worthy am to dye Mene. Yet worthy were not that vnworthy chaunge Cre. If such a death bring glorie giue it me Mene. Not you but me the heauens cal to die Cre. We be but one in flesh and body both Mene. I father ought so ought not you to die Cre. If thou sonne die thinke not that I can liue Then let me die and so shall he first die That ought to die and yet but one shal die Me. Although I father ought t' obey your bestes Yet euill it were in this to yelde your will. Cre. Thy wit is wylie for to worke thy wo. Me. Oh tender pitie moueth me thereto Cre. A beast is he that kils himselfe with a knife Of pitie to preserue an others life Me. Yet wise is he that doth obey the Gods Cre. The Gods will not the death of any wight Me. Whose life they take they giue him life also Cre. But thou dost striue to take thy life thy selfe Me. Nay them to obey that will I shall not liue Cre. What fault O sonne condemneth thée to death Me. Who liueth father here without a fault Cre. I sée no gylte in thée that death deserues Me. But God it séeth that euery secrete séeth Cre. How shoulde we knowe what is the will of God Me. We knowe it then when he reueales the same Cre. As though he would come doune to tell it vs Me. By diuers meanes his secrets he discloseth Cre. Oh fonde is he whothinkes to vnderstand The mysteries of Ioue his secrete mynde And for to ende this controuersie here Loe thus I say I will we both liue yet Prepare thée then my * hestes to holde and kéepe And pull a downe that stubborne heart of thyne Me. You may of me as of your selfe dispose And since my life doth séeme so deare to you I will preserue the same to your auaile That I may spende it alwayes to your wil. Cre. Then thée behoues out of this towne to flie Before the bold and blinde Tyresias Doe publish this that is as yet vnknowne Me. And where or in what place shall I become Cre. Where thou mayste be hence furthest out of sight Me. You may commaunde and I ought to obey Cre. Go to the lande of Thesbeoita Me. Where Dodona doth sit in sacred chaire Cre. Euen there my childe Me. And who shall guide my wandring steps Cre. high Ioue Me. Who shal giue sustenance for my reliefe Cre. There will I send thée heapes of glistring golde Me. But when shall I eftesoones my father sée Cre. Ere long I hope but now for now depart For euery lingring let or little stay May purchase payne and torment both to me Me. First would I take my conge of the Quéene That since the day my mother lost hir life Hath nourisht me as if I were hir owne Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes Cre. Oh tarry not my deare sonne tarry not Me. Beholde father I goe You dames of Thebes Pray to almightie Ioue for my retourne You sée how mine vnhappie starres me driue To go my countrie fro and if so chaunce I ende in woe my pryme and lustie yeares Before the course of Nature do them call Honor my death yet with your drery plaints And I shall eke where so this carkas come Pray to the Gods that they preserue this towne Meneceus departeth by the gates Electrae CHORVS WHen she that rules the rolling whéele of chaunce Doth turne aside hir angrie frowning face On him whom erst she deigned to aduance She neuer leaues to gaulde him with disgrace To tosse and turne his state in euery place Till at the last the hurle him from on high And yeld him subiect vnto miserie And as the braunche that from the roote is rest He neuer winnes like life to that he lefte Yea though he do yet can not tast of ioy Compare with pangs that past in his annoy Well did the heauens ordeine for our behoofe Necessitie and fates by them alowde That when we sée our high mishappes aloofe As though our eyes were mufled with a cloude Our froward will doth shrinke it selfe and shrowde From our auaile wherwith we runne so faree As none amends can make that we do marre Then drawes euill happe striues to shew his strēgth And such as yeld vnto his might at length He leades them by necessitie the way That destinie preparde for our decay The Mariner amidde the swelling seas Who séeth his barke with many a billowe beaten Now here now there as wind and waues best please When thundring Ioue with tempest list to threaten And dreades in depest gulfe for to be eaten Yet learnes a meane by mere necessitie To saue himselfe in such extremitie For when he séeth no man hath witte nor powre To flie from fate when fortune list to lowre His only hope on mightie Ioue doth caste Whereby he winnes the wished heauen at last How fond is that man in his fantasie Who thinks that Ioue the maker of vs al And he that tempers all in heauen on high The sunne the mone the starres celestiall So that no leafe without his leaue can fall Hath not in him omnipotence also To guide and gouerne all things here below O blinded eies O wretched mortall wights O subiect slaues to euery ill that lights To scape such woe such paine such shame and scorne Happie were he that neuer had bin borne Well might duke Creon driuen by destinie If true it be that olde Tyresias saith Redeme our citie from this miserie By his consent vnto Meneceus death Who of himselfe wold faine haue lost his breth But euery man is loth for to fulfill The heauenly hest that pleaseth not his will. That publique weale must néedes to ruine g◠Where priuate profite is preferred so Yet mightie God thy only aide we craue This towne from siege and vs from sorowe saue Finis Actus tertij done by G. Gascoygne The order of the fourth dumbe shevve BEfore the beginning of this fourth Acte the Trumpets drummes and fifes sounded and a greate peale of ordinaunce was shot of in the which ther entred
call out of this darkesome denne The lustleste lodge of my lamenting yeres O daughter deare thy fathers blinded eyes Into the light I was not worthy of Or what suche sight O cruell destenie Without tormenting cares might I beholde That image am of deathe and not of man Anti. O father mine I bring vnluckie newes Vnto your eares your sonnes are nowe both slayne Ne doth your wife that wonted was to guyde So piteously your staylesse stumbling steppes Now sée this light alas and welaway Oed. O heape of infinite calamities And canst thou yet encrease when I thought least That any griefe more great could grow in thée But tell me yet what kinde of cruell death Had these thrée sory soules Anti. Without offence to speake deare father mine The lucklesse lotte the frowarde frowning fate That gaue you life to ende your fathers life Haue ledde your sonnes to reaue eche others life Oed. Of them I thought no lesse but tell me yet What causelesse death hath caught from me my deare What shall I call hir mother or my wife Anti. When as my mother sawe hir deare sonnes dead As pensiue pangs had prest hir tender heart With bloudlesse chéekes and gastly lookes she fell Drawing the dagger from Eteocles side She gorde hirselfe with wide recurelesse wounde And thus without mo words gaue vp the ghost Embracing both hir sonnes with both hir armes In these affrightes this frosen heart of mine By feare of death maynteines my dying life Cho. This drearie day is cause of many euils Poore Oedipus vnto thy progenie The Gods yet graunt it may become the cause Of better happe to this afflicted realme Scena 5. CREON. OEDIPVS ANTIGONE GOod Ladies leaue your bootelesse vayne complaynt Leaue to lament cut off your wofull cryes High time it is as now for to prouide The funerals for the renowmed king And thou Oedipus hearken to my wordes And know thus muche that for thy daughters dower Antigone with Hemone shall be wedde Thy sonne our king not long before his death Assigned hath the kingdome should descende To me that am his mothers brother borne And so the same might to my sonne succéede Now I that am the lorde and king of Thebes Will not permit that thou abide therein Ne maruell yet of this my heady will Ne blame thou me for why the heauens aboue Which onely rule the rolling life of man Haue so ordeynde and that my words be true Tyresias he that knoweth things to come By trustie tokens hath foretolde the towne That while thou didst within the walles remayne It should be plagned still with penurie Wherfore departe and thinke not that I speake These wofull wordes for hate I beare to thée But for the weale of this afflicted realme Oedipus O foule accursed fate that hast me bredde To beare the burthen of the miserie Of this colde death which we accompt for life Before my birth my father vnderstoode I should him slea and scarcely was I borne When he me made a pray for sauage beastes But what I slew him yet then caught the crowne And last of all defilde my mothers bedde By whom I haue this wicked ofspring got And to this heinous crime and filthy facte The heauens haue from highe enforced me Agaynst whose doome no counsell can preuayle Thus hate I now my life and last of all Lo by the newes of this so cruell death Of bothe my sonnes and deare beloued wife Mine angrie constellation me commaundes Withouten eyes to wander in mine age When these my wéery weake and crooked limme Haue greatest néede to craue their quiet rest O cruell Creon wilt thou slea me so For cruelly thou doste but murther me Out of my kingdome now to chase me thus Yet can I not with humble minde beséeche Thy curtesie ne fall before thy féete Let fortune take from me these worldly giftes She can not conquere this courageous heart That neuer yet could well be ouercome To force me yéelde for feare to villanie Do what thou canst I will be Oedipus Cre. So hast thou reason Oedipus to say And for my parte I would thée counsell eke Still to maynteine the high and hawtie minde That hath bene euer in thy noble heart For this be sure if thou wouldst kisse these knées And practise eke by prayer to preuayle No pitie coulde persuade me to consent That thou remayne one onely houre in Thebes And nowe prepare you worthie Citizens The funeralls that duely doe pertayne Vnto the Quéene and to Eteocles And eke for them prouide their stately tombes But Pollynice as common enimie Vnto his countrey carrie foorth his corps Out of the walles ne none so hardie be On peine of death his bodie to engraue But in the fieldes let him vnburied lye Without his honour and without complaynte An open praie for sauage beastes to spoyle And thou Antigone drie vp thy teares Plucke vp thy sprites and chéere thy harmelesse hearte To mariage for ere these two dayes passe Thou shalt espouse Hemone myne onely heire Antig. Father I sée vs wrapt in endlesse woe And nowe muche more doe I your state lamente Than these that nowe be dead not that I thinke Theyr greate missehappes too little to bewayle But this that you you onely doe surpasse All wretched wightes that in this worlde remayne But you my Lorde why banishe you with wrong My father thus out of his owne perforce And why will you denye these guiltlesse bones Of Polinice theyr graue in countrey soyle Creon So would not I so woulde Eteocles Anti. He cruel was you fonde to hold his hestes Creon Is then a fault to doe a kings cōmaund Anti. When his cōmaunde is cruell and vniust Creon Is it vniust that he vnburied be Anti. He not deseru'd so cruel punishment Creon He was his countreys cruell enimie Anti. Or else was he that helde him from his right Cre. Bare he not armes against his natiue land Anti. Offendeth he that sekes to winne his owne Cre. In spite of thée he shall vnburied be Anti. In spite of thée these hands shall burie him Cre. And with him eke then will I burie thée Anti. So graunt the gods I get none other graue Then with my Polinices deare to rest Cre. Go sirs lay holde on hir and take hir in Anti. I will not leaue this corps vnburied Cre. Canst thou vndoe the thing that is decréed Anti. A wicked foule decrée to wrong the dead Cre. The ground ne shall ne ought to couer him Anti. Creon yet I beseche thée for the loue Cre. Away I say thy prayers not preuaile Anti. That thou didst beare Iocasta in hir life Cre. Thou dost but waste thy words amid the wind Anti. Yet graunt me leaue to washe his wounded corps Cre. It can not be that I should graunt thée so Anti. O my deare Polinice this tirant yet With all his worongfull force can not fordoe But I will kisse these colde pale lippes of thine And washe thy wounds with my waymenting teares Cre.
written to the right honourable the Lorde Grey of Wilton A Straunge conceyte a vayne of newe delight Twixt weale and woe twixte ioy and bitter griefe Hath pricked foorth my hastie penne to write This woorthlesse verse in hazarde of repréefe And to mine Alderlieuest Lorde I must endite A wofull case a chippe of sorie chaunce A tipe of heauen a liuely hew of hell A feare to fall a hope of high aduance A life a death a drearie tale to tell But since I know the pith of my pastaunce Shall most consist in telling of a truth Vouchsafe my Lord en bon gré for to take This trustie tale the storie of my youth This Chronicle which of my selfe I make To shew my Lord what healplesse happe ensewth When heddy youth will gad without a guide And raunge vntide in leas of libertie Or when bare néede a starting hole hath spide To péepe abroade from mother Miserie And buildeth Castels in the Welkin wide In hope thereby to dwell with wealth and ease But he the Lord whome my good Lord doth know Can bind or lose as best to him shall please Can saue or spill rayse vp or ouerthrowe Can gauld with griefe and yet the payne appease Which thing to proue if so my L. take time When greater cares his head shall not possesse To sitte and reade this raunging ragged rime I doubt not then but that he will confesse What falles I found when last I leapt to clime In March it was that cannot I forget In this last March vpon the nintenth day When from Grauesend in boate I gan to iette To boorde our shippe in Quinborough that lay From whence the very twentith day we set Our sayles abrode to slice the Salt sea fome And ancors weyde gan trust the trustlesse floud That day and night amid the waues we rome To seeke the coast of Holland where it stoode And on the next when we were farre from home And neare the hauen whereto we sought to sayle A fearly chaunce whereon alone to thinke My hande now quakes and all my senses fayle Gan vs befall the Pylot gan to shrinke And all agaste his courage séemde to quayle Whereat amazed the Maister and his mate Gan aske the cause of his so sodeyne chaunge And from alofte the Stewarde of our state The sounding plumbe in haste poste hast must raunge To trye the depth and goodnesse of our gate Mée thinkes euen yet I heare his heauie voyce Fadome thrée foure foote more foote lesse that cride Mée thinkes I heare the fearefull whispring noyse Of such as sayde full softely me beside God graunte this iourney cause vs to reioyce When I poore soule which close in caban laye And there had reacht till gaule was welneare burst With giddie head my stumbling steppes must stay To looke abroade as boldly as I durst And whyles I hearken what the Saylers saye The sownder sings fadame two full no more Aloofe aloofe then cried the Maister out The Stearesmate striues to sende vs from the shore And trustes the streame whereof wée earst had doubt Twéene two extréeme thus were we tossed sore And went to Hull vntill we leyzure had To talke at large and eke to know the cause What moode had made our Pylot looke so sad At last the Dutche with butterbitten iawes For so he was a Dutche a Deuill a swadde A foole a drunkarde or a traytour tone Gan aunswere thus Ghy zijt te vroegh here come Tuniet goet tijt and standing all alone Gan preache to vs which fooles were all and some To trust him foole in whom there skill was none Or what knew wee if Albaes subtill brayne So to preuent our enterpryse by treazon Had him subornde to tice vs to this trayne And so him selfe per Companye and seazon For spite for hate or else for hope of gayne This must we thinke that Alba would not spare To giue out gold for such a sinfull déede And glistring gold can oftentimes ensnare More perfect wits than Holland soyle doth bréede But let that passe and let vs now compare Our owne fond fact with this his foule offence We knew him not nor where he wond that time Nor if he had Pylots experience Or Pylats crafte to cleare him selfe from crime Yea more than that how voyde were we of sense We had small smacke of any tale he tolde He powrde out Dutch to drowne vs all in drinke And we wise men vppon his words were bolde To runne on head but let me now bethinke The masters spéech and let me so vnfold The depth of all this foolish ouersight The master spake euen like a skilfull man And sayde I sayle the Seas both day and night I know the tides as well as other can From pole to pole I can the courses plight I know France Spaine Gréece Denmarke Dasisk all Frize Flaunders Holland euery coast I know But truth to tell it seldome doth befall That English merchants euer bend their bowe To shoote at Breyll where now our flight should fall They send their shafts farder for greater gayne So that this hauen is yet quoth he vnkouth And God graunt now that England may attayne Such gaines by Breyll a gospell on that mouth As is desired thus spake the master playne And since saide he my selfe knew not the sowne How could I well a better Pylot fynde Than this which first did saye he dwelt in towne And knew the way where euer sat the wynde While we thus talke all sayles are taken downe And we to Hull as earst I sayd gan wend Till full two houres and somewhat more were past Our guyde then spake in Dutch and bad vs bend All sayles againe for now quod he at last Die tijt is goet dat heb ick weell bekend Why staye I long to ende a wofull tale We trust his Dutch and vp the foresayle goes We fall on knées amyd the happy gale Which by Gods will full kynd and calmely blowes And vnto him we there vnfolde our bale Whereon to thinke I wryte and wéepe for ioye That pleasant song the hundreth and seuenth Psalme There dyd we reade to comfort our annoye Which to my soule me thought was swéete as balme Yea farre more swéete than any worldly ioye And when he had with prayers praysd the Lord Our Edell Bloetts gan fall to eate and drinke And for their sauce at takyng vp the borde The shippe so strake as all we thought to sinke Against the ground Then all with one accorde We fell againe on knées to pray apace And therewithall euen at the second blowe The number cannot from my minde outpace Our helme strake of and we must fléete and flowe Where winde and waues would guide vs by their grace The winde waxt calme as I haue sayde before O mightie God so didst thou swage our woes The selly shippe was sowst and smitten sore With counter buffetts blowes and double blowes At last the kéele
pleased not you I cannot my selfe therwith be pleased as one that seeketh not to please many and more desirous to please you than any The cause of myne affection I suppose you behold dayly For self loue auoyded euery wight may iudge of themselues as much as reason perswadeth the which if it be in your good nature suppressed with bashfulnesse then mighty loue graunt you may once behold my wan cheekes washed in woe that therein my salt teares may be a myrrour to represent your owne shadow and that like vnto Nacissus you may be constrayned to kisse the cold waues wherein your counterfait is so liuely purtrayed For if aboundance of other matters fayled to drawe my gazing eyes in contemplation of so rare excellency yet might these your letters both frame in me an admiration of such diuine esprite and a confusion too my dull vnderstanding whiche so rashly presumed too wander in this endles Laberinth Such I esteeme you and thereby am become such and euen HE. F.I. THis letter finished and fayre written ouer his chaunce was to méete hir alone in a Gallery of the same house where his manhood in this kinde of combat was firste tried and therein I can compare him to a valiant Prince who distressed with power of enemies had committed the safegard of his person to treaty of Ambassade and sodenly surprised with a Camassado in his owne trenches was enforced to yéeld as prisoner Euen so Ferdinando Ieronimi lately ouercome by the beautifull beames of this Dame Elynor and hauing now committed his moste secrete intent to these late rehearsed letters was at vnwares encountred with his friendly foe and constrayned either to prepare some new defence or else like a recreant to yéeld himselfe as already vanquished Wherefore as in a traunce he lifted vp his dazled eies and so continued in a certen kind of admiration not vnlike the Astronomer who hauing after a whole nights trauaile in the grey morning found his desired starre hath fired his hungry eies to behold the Comete long looked for wherat this gracious Dame as one that could discerne the sunne before hir chamber windowes were wide opeÌ„ did deign to embolden the fainting Knight with these or like woordes I perceiue nowe quod she howe mishap doth follow me that hauing chosen this walke for a simple solace I am here disquieted by the man that meaneth my destruction and therwithall as half angry began to turne hir backe when Ferdinando now awaked gan thus salute hir Mistresse quod he and I perceiue now that good hap hauÌ„ts me for being by lacke of oportuniâ—ie constreined to commit my welfare vnto these blabbing leaues of bewraying paper shewing that in his haÌ„d I am here recomforted with happy view of my desired ioy and therewithall reuerently kissing his hand did softly distreyne hir slender arme and so slayed hir departure The firste blow thus profered and defended they walked and talked trauersing diuerse wayes wherein I doubte not but that the Venetian coulde quite himselfe resonably well For after long talke shee was contented to accept his proffered seruice but yet still disabling hir selfe and séeming to maruell what cause had moued him to subiect his libertie so wilfully or at least in a prison as shée termed it so vnworthy Wherevnto I néede not rehearse his answere but suppose now that thus they departed sauing I had forgotten this shée required of him the last rehearsed letter saying that his firste was loste and nowe shée lacked a new bottome for hir silke the whiche I warrant you he graunted and so preffering to take an humble congé by Bezolas manos she graciously gaue him the Zuccado dez labros and so for then departed And there vppon recompting hir woordes he compiled these following whiche he termed Terza sequenza too sweete Mistresse SHE OF thee deare Dame three lessons would I learne What reason first persuades the foolish Fly As soone as shee a candle can discerne To play with flame till shee bee burnt thereby Or what may moue the Mouse to byte the bayte Which strikes the trappe that stops hir hungry breth What calles the bird where snares of deepe deceit Are closely coucht to draw hir to hir death Consider well what is the cause of this And though percase thou wilt not so confesse Yet deepe desire to gayne a heauenly blisse May drowne the minde in dole and darke distresse Oft is it seene whereat my hart may bleede Fooles play so long till they be caught in deede And then It is a heauen to see them hop and skip And seeke all shiftes to shake their shackles off It is a world to see them hang the lip Who earst at loue were wont to skorne and skoff But as the Mouse once caught in crafty trap May bounce and beate against the boorden wall Till shee haue brought hir head in such mishap That downe to death hir fainting lymbes must fall And as the Flie once singed in the flame Cannot commaund hir wings to waue away But by the heele shee hangeth in the same Till cruell death hir hasty iourney stay So they that seeke to breake the linkes of loue Striue with the streame and this by paine I proue For when I first beheld that heauenly hewe of thine Thy stately stature and thy comly grace I must confesse these dazled eies of mine Did wincke for feare when I first viewd thy face But bold desire did open them againe And had mee looke till I had lookt to long I pitied them that did procure my paine And lou'd the lookes that wrought me all the wrong And as the byrd once caught but woorks hir woe That striues to leaue the limed twigges behind Euen so the more I straue to parte thee fro The greater grief did growe within my minde Remedilesse then must I yeeld to thee And craue no more thy seruaunt but to bee Till then and euer HE. F.I. WHen he had well sorted this sequence he sought oportunitie to leaue it where shée might finde it before it were lost And nowe the coles began to kindle whereof but ere while shée feigned hir selfe altogither ignorant The flames began to breake out on euery side and she to quench them shut vp hir selfe in hir chamber solitarily But as the smithie gathers greater heate by casting on of water euen so the more she absented hir self from company the fresher was the griefe whiche galded hir remembrance so that at laste the report was spredde thorough the house that Mistresse Elinor was sicke At which newes Ferdinando tooke small comfort neuerthelesse Dame Venus with good aspect did yet thus much furder his enterprise The Dame whether it were by sodaine chaunge or of wonted custome fell one day into a greate bléeding at the nose For whiche accident the sayde Venetian amongst other pretie conceits had a present remedie Whereby he tooke occasion when they of the house had all in vayne sought many waies to stoppe hir bléeding to worke his feate in this wise
towardes the ground toke good aduisement in his aunswere when a fayre gentlewoman of the company clapped him on the shoulder saying how now sir is your hand on your halfpeny To whome he aunswered no fayre Lady my hand is on my harte and yet my hart is not in myne owne hands wherewithall abashed turning towards dame Elinor he sayde My souereigne and Mistresse according to the charge of your command and the dutie that I owe you my tongue shall bewraye vnto you the truthe of mine intent At this present a rewarde giuen me without desert doth so reioyce mée with continuall remembraunce that though my minde be so occupied to thinke thereon as that daye nor night I can bée quiet from that thought yet the ioye and pleasure whiche I conceiue in the same is such that I can neyther be cloyed with continuaunce thereof nor yet afraide that any mishappe can counteruayle so greate a treasure This is to me suche a heauen to dwell in as that I féede by day and repose by night vppon the freshe recorde of this reward This as Bartello sayeth he ment by the kisse that she lent him in the Gallery and by the profession of hir laste letters and woordes Well though this aunswere bee somewhat mistie yet let his excuse be that taken vppon the sodaine he thought better to aunswere darkly than to be mistrusted openly Hir second question was what thing in this life did moste gréeue his harte and disquiet his minde whervnto he answered That although his late rehersed ioy were incomparable yet the greatest enimie that disturbed the same was the priuie worme of his owne giltie conscience which accused him euermore with great vnworthinesse and that this was his greatest griefe The Lady biting vpon the bitte at his cunning answeres made vnto these two questions ganne thus replie Seruaunt I had thought to haue touched you yet nearer with my thirde question but I will refrayne to attempt your pacience and nowe for my third demaund aunswere me directly in what manner this passion doth handle you and howe these contraries may hang together by any possibilitie of concorde for your woordes are straunge Ferdinando now rousing himselfe boldly tooke occasion thus to handle his aunswere Mistresse quod he my woordes in déede are straunge but yet my passion is muche straunger and thervpon this other day to conteÌ„t mine owne fantasie I deuised a Sonet which although it bée a péece of Cocklorels musicke and suche as I might be ashamed to publish in this company yet bicause my truth in this answere may the better appeare vnto you I pray you vouchsafe to receiue the same in writing and drawing a paper out of his pocket presented it to hir wherin was written this Sonet LOue hope and death do stirre in me such strife As neuer man but I led such a life First burning loue doth wound my hart to death And when death comes at call of inward griefe Colde lingering hope doth feede my fainting breath Against my will and yeeldes my wound reliefe So that I liue but yet my life is such As death would neuer greue me halfe so much No comfort then but only this I tast To salue such sore such hope will neuer want And with such hope such life will euer last And with such life such sorrowes are not skant Oh straunge desire O life with torments tost Through too much hope mine onely hope is lost Euen HE F.I. THis sonet was highly commended and in my iudgement it deserueth no lesse His dutie thus perfourmed their pastimes ended and at their departure for a watch worde hée couÌ„selled his Mistresse by little and little to walke abrode saying that the Gallery neare adioyning was so pleasaunt as if he were halfe dead he thought that by walking therin hée might be halfe more reuiued Think you so seruaunt quod she and the last tyme that I walked there I suppose I toke the cause of my malady but by your aduise for that you haue so clerkly steynched my bléeding I will assay to walke there to morow Mistres quod he and in more ful accomplishment of my duetie towards you and in sure hope that you will vse the same onelie to your owne priuate commoditie I will there awaite vpon you and betwene you and me wil teach you the ful order how to steynch the bléeding of any creature wherby you shal be as cuÌ„ning as my self Gramercy good seruant quod she I thinke you lost the same in writing here yesterday but I caÌ„not vnderstand it therfore to morrow if I féele my self any thing ameÌ„ded I wil sende for you thither to enstruct me throughly thus they departed And at supper time the Lord of Valasco finding fault that his gestes stomacke serued him no better began too accuse the grosnesse of his vyands to whom one of the geÌ„tlewomen which had passed the afternoone in his company answered Nay sir quod she this gentleman hath a passion the which once in a day at the least doth kill his appetite Are you so well acquainted with the dispositioÌ„ of his body quod the Lord of the house by his owne saying quod she not otherwise Fayre ladie quod FerdinaÌ„do you either mistoke me or ouerheard me theÌ„ for I told of a coÌ„fortable humor which so fed me with coÌ„tinuall remeÌ„braÌ„ce of ioy as that my stomack being ful therof doth desire in maner none other vittayles Why sir quod the host do you theÌ„â—iue by loue God forbid sir quod Ferdinando for then my cheekes wold be much thinner thaÌ„ they be but there are diuers other greater causes of ioy than the doubtful lots of loue for mine own part to be playn I caÌ„not loue I dare not hate I would I thought so quod the gentlewoman And thus with prety nyppes they passed ouer their supper which ended the Lord of the house required Ferdinando Ieronimi to daunce and passe the time with the gentlewomen which he refused not to doe But sodenly before the musicke was well tuned came out Dame Elynor in hir night attyre and said to the Lord the supposing the solitarinesse of hir chamber had encreased hir maladie she came out for hir better recreatioÌ„ to sée them daunce Well done daughter quod the Lorde And I Mistres quod Ferdinando would gladly bestowe the leading of you about this great chamber to driue away the faintnesse of your feuer No good seruaunt quod the Lady but in my stéede I pray you daunce with this fayre Gentlewoman pointing him too the Lady that had so taken him vp at supper Ferdinando to auoyd mistrust did agrée too hir request without furder entreaty The daunce begon this Knight marched on with the Image of S. Frances in his hand and S. Elynor in his hart The violands at end of the pauion staied a whyle in whiche time this Dame sayde to Ferdinando Ieronimi on this wise I am right sory for you in two respects although the familiarity haue hytherto had