of swerd N. Thy wrath deare foster child Is greater then the crime that hath thy Hercules defilde With egall mallice measure faultes Alas why dost thou bring So great and sore a penalty vpon so swale a thinge Let not thy griefe be greater then the sorrow thou sustaynes DE. Set you it light that with our wedlocke linkt an harlot raygnes ? Nay rather thinke it still to much that doth thy sorrows breede NV. And is the Ioue of Hercules reuolt from thee in deede DE. T' is not reuolt deare foster Dame fast in my bones it stickes But yre boyles hoate in burning breast when loue to anger prickes NV. It is almost a common guise that wedded wyues doe haunte Theyr husbands hearts by magicke Arte and witchcraft to enchaunte In winter coulde I charmed haue the woods to make them sprout And forst the thunder dint recoyle that hath bin boulting out With waltring surges I haue shooke the seas amid the calme I smoothed haue the wrastling waues and layde downe euery walme The dry grouÌ„d gaped hath like gulphs out new springs haue gusht The roring rocks haue quaking sturd none therest hath pusht Hell glounimy gales I haue brast cape where grisly ghosts all husht Haue stood aunswering at my charme the goblins grim haue scoulde The threefolde headed hounde of hell with barking throates hath houlde Thus both the seas the lande the heauens hell bowe at my becke Noone day to midnight to and froe turnes at my charming checke At my enchauntment euery thing declynes from natures lawe Our charme shall make his stomacke stoupe bring him more in awe D. What hearbes doe grow in Pontus sea Or els on Pindus hill To trownce this machelesse champton where shall I finde the ill The magicke vearse â—uchaunts the Moone from Starry skies to grouÌ„d And fruictfull haruest is thereby in barren winter found The whisking flames of lightning leames oft sorcery doth stay And noonetyde topsy turuy â—ost doth dim the dusky day And leaue the welkin to the starres and yet not cause him stxsoupe N. The Gods them selues by charme of loue haue forced bin to droupe DE. Perhap hee shall be woon by one and yeelde to her the spoyle So loue shall be to Hercules the last and latest toyle By all the hoste of heauenly powers and as thou seest mee feare The secrets that I shall attempt in councell see thou beare NV. What may it be that thou woulde haue me keepe so secretly DE. No broyle of blades no priue cote no fiery force perdye NV. I you assure I can conceale if mischiefe none be ment For then the keeping close of it is sure a lewbe entent DE. Then looke about if none be heere our councell to betray Looke rounde about on all sides cast thy countnaunce euery way NV. Beholde the place is safe inough from any listning eare DE. Beside the place of our estate there is a secret nooke A couert corner for our talke that sonneshyne neuer tooke Neyther at morne nor euening tyde when Titans blaze doth quench And hee in ruddy westerne waue his firy wheeles doth drench There secret lyes the priuy proofe of Hercules amorous thought I le tell thee all deare foster dame This witchcraft Nessus taught Whom Ixion engendred of a mysty grouing clowde Where Pindus hauiy hill his top among the starres doth shrowde And other stipe doth heaue his Crest about the ryding rack When Achelous ouer layde with many a thumping thwack Of Hercles club did shift him selfe to euery kinde of shape And triall made of all his sleights none serued to escape At length he turnde him selfe into the lykenesse of Bull And so was fowly vanquished in forme of horny scull While Hercules being Conquerour did me his Wyfe enioy Returning home to Greece agayne it hapned Euen lake To ouerflow the drowned marshe and channell to forsake And strongly streamde to seas hee runns and swells aboue his bankes And Nessus vsde to passe the poole and search the croking crankes As Ferryman demaundes his fare and bare mee on his backe And wading forward brake the Waues and surges of the lake At length yet Nessus waded out vnto the farther shore Yet Hercules had swam but halfe the riuer and no more And plyde it hard to cut the streame but when espied had hee That Hercules was farre behinde Madam quoth hee to mee Be thou my booty and my wyfe and clasping mee about Away he flings and Hercules besturres him mauger Waue Though Ganges gulph and Ister streame quoth he thou traytour slaue Might roon in on yet shiâ— to scape them both well coulde I make And in thy hast a shaft shall soone they running ouer take And ere he spake the word his arrow flew out of his bowe And wrought a wounde in Nessus ribbs hee coulde no farther goe It sped him sure to looke for death Hee cried well away The baggage running from the wounde reserued as hee lay And putting it into his hoofe the which vndoyng hee In cutting yt with his owne hand did geue it vnto me And thus at latter gaspe he sayde the witches haue me toulde That loue may charmed be by this to haue and keepe his hould The conning witch dame Michale did teach Thessalia dames Who onely forst the Mone to stoupe to her from heauenly frames Therfore quoth he at any tyme when hateful whores abuse Thy spousall bed or waueryng man do haunt to any stewes Then with this salue annoynt his shyrtes and let it see no sonne But kepe it close in corners darke the bloud then shall not shonne His strength and thus ful sodenly he left his talke with rest And deadly sleepe with senceles death his feeble lims opprest Thou Dame to whom in hope of trust my secrets all bewray On that the poyson soakt into the vesture bright it may Preace through his limmes vnto his hart sinke through euery bone N. I wil dispatch it all in hast make thou thy earnest mone Vnto the God whose tender hand his stedfast dartes doth weild D. I thee beseech that art of earth and heauen in honour helde And thou that shakest burning boltes thou curst and cruel boy Whose eluish weapons make thy mother feare thy sharpe annoy Now arme thy hand with speedy shaft not of the slender sort But biggest boultes with which as yet thou hast assault no fort We neede no litle shaft that may styrre Hercules to loue Bring cruel handes and force thy how his depest draught to prooue Now now draw forth thy shaft wherewith thou caused cruelly The burning breast of Ioue by fyttes of seruent loue to frye When as the God his thonder bolt and lightning layd assyde Gan boalne with bumpes on forehead big and throught the waue he hid And swam with Europ on his backe in shape of horny Bull Now powre downe loue and therwithall let Hecles hart be full If Ioles beauty kyndle heate and Hercles hart doth moue Quench thou these coales and force him glow with vs
with a night engendred hath to thee If East and West if Scithia and euery burning plot That parched is with glowing glede of Phoebus fier hot Doth sing my prayse and if the earth ful satisfyde with peace If languishing and wayling woords in euery towne doe cease If none their alters do imbrew with any guiltles gore Then Ioue let my vncaged spirite haue heauen for euermore As for th infernall dennes of death they do not me detarre Nor scouling Plutoes dungeon darck but Ioue I do abhorre Vnto those gastly Goblins as a stlly shade to goe Sith I am he whose conquering hand gaue them their ouerthrowe Withdraw these foggy clowdes of night display the glimsyng light That Hercles broyld with flying flames the Gods may haue in sight And if thou do denye O fyre the starres and heauen to mee To geue me them agaynst thy will thou shalt constrayned bee If glutting griefe do stop thy speach the Stygian goulphes set oape Aud let mee dye but first declare within the heauenly coape That thou accepst me as thy soone this day it shal be wrought That to bee raysd aloft to starres I may be worthy thought Thou hast doone litle for me yet it may be doubted well Whether Ioue did first beget his sonne or damnd him first to hell And quoth he let my stepdame see how wel I can abyde The scorching heate of burning brandes for fyer then he cride And sayth to me O Philoctet in hast vppon me throw The burning logges why quakest thou dost dastard thow forslow For feare to this wicked deede O coward peasant slaue Thou art to weake to bende my bow vnmeete my shaftes to haue What aylest thou to loke so pale and as thou seest mee lye With cherefull looke couragiously do thou the fier plye Behold me wretch that broyle and burne my father opes the Skyes And vnto me sonne Hercules come come away he cryes O father Ioue quoth he I come with that I waxed pale And toward him a burning beame with might and mayne I hale But backe from him the billets flye and tumbling out they leape And from the limmes of Hercules downe falleth all the heape But he encrocheth on the fyre as it from him doth shrinke That many mountaynes whole were set on fyer a man would thinke No noyse was hard and all was husht but that the fyer did hisse In Hercles glowing paunch when as his liuer burning is It boysteous gyant Typhus had amid this fire bene throwne These torments would haue straind his teares forst him sigh grone Or tough Euceladus that tost a mountayne on his backe But Hercles lifted vp himselfe amid his fyres all blacke With smoake besmeard his corps halfe burnt in shiuers gube flawes And downe the throate his gasping breath flames at once he drawes Then to Alemen he turnd himselfe O mother myne quoth hee Should ye so stand at Hercles death should you thus wayle for me And thus betwene the fire and smoke vpright and stiffe he standes And neyther stoupes nor leanes awrye but moues and stirs his hands With al his liuely gestures still and thus he doth perswade His mother leaue the langusshing and mourning that she made And did encourage all his men t' encrease the fyre than As though he were not burning but would burne some other man The people stoode astonished and scant they would beleeue That fire had any force on him or that it did him greeue Because his chereful looke had such a maiesty and grace And neuer wilde vs meue the fyre that he might burne apace And now when as he thought he had endured pangues ynough And stoutly bode the brunt of death the blocks hee doth remoue That smothering lay to make theÌ„ burne then downward doth he shoue And where the stewing heate did chiefely scorch and burne most hot That way he thrusts his frying lims and thether hath hee got With steaming countnaunce vnapaulde his mouth now doth he fill With burning coales his comely Bearde theÌ„ blazde about his cheekes And now when as the sparkling fier vnto his visage seekes The flame lickt vp his sâ—â—ged hayre and yet he did not winke But open kept his staring eyes But what is this my thinke Alomene cometh yonder as a woefull wight forlorne With sighes and sobs and all her hayre befrounced rent and torne And beares the remnaunt in her Lap of Hercules the great Alcmena Philoctetes LEarne Lordings learne to feare and dread th' unwelldy fatall force This little dust is all that 's lefâ— of Hercles hugy coarse That boysteous Giaunt is consumde vnto these ashes small O Titan what a mighty masse is come to nought at all Aye me an aged womans lappe all Hercules doth shrowde her lap doth serue him for a graue and yet the champion prowde With all his lumpe stils not the roome Aye mee a burthen small I feele of him to whom whole heauen no burthen was at all O Hercules beare chylde O sonne the season whilom was That thou to Tartar pits and sluggish deus aloofe didst passe For to repasse from deepe of hell when wilt thou come agayne For to put loyne the spoyles thereof or bring from captiue chayne To life thy friendly Theseus But when wilt thou returne Alone can flaming Phelegethon thy ghost in torments burne Or can the mastiâ—â—e Dogge of hell keepe downe thy woefull sprite Where then might I come see thy soule and leaue this loathed light When shall I rap at Tartar gate what Iawes shall mee deuower What death shall dâ—wnt mee goest thou to hell and hast no power To come agayne alas why do I wast the day in teares and 〈◊〉 O wretched lyfe why dost thou last thou shouldest droupe and saynt And loath this dreary daye how can I beare to Ioue agayâ—e Another noble Hercules what sonne may I obtayne So valiunt to call mee thus Alcmena mother myne O happy spouse Ampliterio twyse happy hast thou bene In entring at the dennes of death and through the noble sonne The Deutis arthy presentes quake to see thee thether come Though thou but forged father were to Hercules of late Whether shall old beldam goe whom many kinges do hate If any prince remayne with blody breast and murdring mynde Then woe to mee if groning babes be any left behynd That sorrow for theyr parentes deathes now now for Hercles sake Theyr mallice let them wrecke on mee on mee dyre vengeance take If any young Bustris be I feare the Persians sore Wil come and take me captiue hence in chaynes for euermore If any tyrant feede his horce with gubbes of straungers flesh Now let his pampred iades vnto my Carksse fall a fresh Perhap dame Iuno coueteth on me to wrecke her yrâ— And eâ—vs of her burning breast wil turne the flaming fire Her wreckful hand doth loyter now sith Hercules is slayne And now to feele her spurning spyte as harlot I remayne My valyant sonne is cause of this my wombe shall barrayne be Least I should beare another
able is the sense hereof t' vnfold and tell aryght As for my selfe although the Sphinx I whylome put to foyle Yet myne owne heauy destenie I scarcely can assoyle Why dost thou Daughter labour loose in vsyng further speech To alter this my stony hart why dost thou mee beseech I tel thee playne I fully meane this bloud of mynt to spill That long with Death hath struggling kept and thereupon I will Descend to darke infernall Lake for this same darknes blynd Of both myne eyes is nothing such as fact of myne should fynd It were my Blisse to bee in Hell in deepest dungeon fast Now that which should long since haue bene I wil perfourme at last I cannot be debard from Death wilt thou deny me glaue Or Sword or knife wilt thou no toole for mischiefe let me haue Wilt thou both watch and ward each way where dauÌ„ger lies in wayte Shall such a sinful Caytife wretch as I be kepe so straite Wilt thou not suffer me with Coard to breake my hatefull Necke Canst thou kepe mee from poysonous herbes hast thou them al at beck What shall it thee preuayle to take for mee such earnest care Death ech where is and wayes to death in thousand corners are Herein hath God good order tane that euery felie Foe May take away an others life but Death hee cannot so I seeke not anye toole to haue this desprate mynd of myne Can vse the seruice of my hand my threede of lyfe t' vntwine Now hand thy maister at a pinch assist to worke his feate Helpe him with all thy power and strength t' exployt his purpose great I poynt thee not in this my Corps vnto one place alone Alas each part of me with guilt is plaunch and ouergrowne In which soeuer part thou wilt thy Massacre beginne And seeke to bring me to my death which way thou mayst it winne In pieces crush this body all this hart that harbors sinne Pluck out out all my entrailes pull proceede and neuer linne To gash and cut my wezand pype My vaynes asender scratch And make the Bloud come spowting out or vse that other match Which heretofore thou vsed haste digge where myne eyes earst stood And let these woundes gush out apace much mattry filth and blood Hale out of mee this loathed soule that is so hard and stout And thou deare father Laius stand vp and looke about Behold where euer that thou standst I Vmpyre doe the make And eyed Iudge of all my plagues that iustly heere I take My Fact so lewde so horrible so loathsome to bee tolde I neuer thought with any pryce or tormentes manifolde Could haue full expiation ne thought I it inough To die this death or in one part to be beslasshed through By piecemeale I am well content to suffer tormentes all And euen by piecemeale for to die for plagues to plague mee call Exact the punishment that 's due I heere most ready stand To satisfie with any death that law and righte hath scand My former smartes when as mine eyes I raked out with pawes Were but as tastes of sacrifice somewhat to helpe my cause Come therefore Father neare to mee and thrust this hand of myne More nearer into euery wound It sweru'de and did decline For feare when first it tooke th' assay mine eyes to ransacke out I beare it still in memory my eyes then star'de about And seemed to disswade the hand from doing of the charge Whereto it was enioyned tho and had Commission large Thou shalt well thinke that OEdipus dissembleth not a whitâ— But what his word hath warranted his deede hath firmely quit Thy stoutnes then was not so great when eyes thou pulledst out As was thy man aâ—oden when thou threwst them from thee round about Now by those Gyeholes thrust thy hand into the very braine That part where death attempted was let death be sought againe AN. Vndaunted Prynce must noble Syre with humble mynde I sue That I your Daughter may be bolde to vse some speech to you And that you would with patience digest my poore aduise My suite is not to draw your minde to thinges that earst in price You highly held me to the view of glittring Pallace olde Ne brauery of your noble Realme scarce able to bee tolde But that you would these yrefull fittes by trace of time now quaild With patient minde sustayne and beare this vertue neuer faylde In any Prynce of such a spright as in your noble Grace Appeareth bryght it fitteth not that such should once abase Themselues as thralles to Sorrowes checke 〈◊〉 the conquest yeelde To aduerse hap lyke 〈…〉 It is no prayse syr though perhappes you so your reckening cast To make of lyfe so small accoumpt and thus to bee agast At euery wagging of a leafe and combersome myschaunce No no t is vertue in such case high courage to aduaunce And when thinges are at worst to shew true magnanimitie Not lyke a Meycocke cowardly at eche alarme to flee Hee that hath tride all fortunes spight and worldly wealth despisde And constantly hath borne all bruntes that are to be deuisde Mee thinks no cause hath why he needes to ende his breathing dayes Or wish himselfe in graue for why starcke crauens vse such wayes But as for him that 's drencht in dole and wrapt in carking care Whose pensius plight can be no worse nor tast of sowrer fare That man hath cause well pleasâ—â— to be sith hee in safety standes And pykes hath past and now is free from feare of further bandes Put case the Gods would weave the webbe of further woe to thee What more can any of them doe thy grieues to amplifie Nay thou thy selfe although thou wouldst canst adde thereto no more Vnlesse thou thinke thy selfe to haue deserued death therefore And yet thou arte not worthy death my reason is because Through ignoraunce thou didst a fact contrary to the lawes And therefore Father thinke your selfe most guiltlesse in the case And maugre Gods stand on your guarde my counsell sound embrace For doubtlesse you an innocent are deem'de and thought to bee And are in deede what makes you thus in dumpes and dolefull glee What cause so great should so enchaunt your conscience and your wits To seeke your owne decay and spoyle what meane faint hearted fits That thus in hast you would so faine abandon this your lyfe And goe to hell where torment dwelles and grisly ghostes be ryfe You would not see Sun Moone ne Starre no more you can your eyes Are blynd you faine would leaue your Court and Countries miseries Why so you may and so you doe These all are put to sacke That now alyue aswell as dead you feele of these the lacke You flee from Mother Wyfe and Chylde you see no man alyue What more can death dispatch away but life doth now depriue your lords your knights your courtly traine your kingly state crowne Your graund Affaires your waighty charge is gone brought abowne From whom froÌ„ what do
thou wert yet in thy mothers hand And that I knew what destentes thee held or in what land For neuer should the mothers fayth her tender child forsake Though through my breast the enmies al their cruell weapons strake Nor though the Greekes with pinching bandes of yron my handes had bound Or els in feruent flame of fyre beset my body rounde But now my litle Child pore wretch alas where might he bee Alas what cruel desteny what chaunce hath hapt to thee Art thou yet ranging in the fieldes and wandrest ther abroad Or smothred else in dusty smoake of Troy or ouertroad Or haue the Greekes thee slayne alas and laught to see thy bloud Or torne art thou with iawes of beastes or cast to foules for foode VI. Dissemble not hard is for thee Vlisses to deceaue I can ful wel the mothers craftes and subtilty perceaue The pollecy of Goddesses Vlisses hath vndone Set al these fayned wordes assyde tel mee where is thy sonne An. Wher is Hector where al the rest that had with Troy their fall Where Priamus you aske for one but I require of all Vl. Thou shalt constrayned be to tell the thing thou dost deny And. A happy chaunce were Death to her that doth desyre to dye Vli. Who most destres to die would faynest liue when death drawth on These noble wordes with present feare of death woulde soone be gone And. Vlisses if ye wil constrayne Andromacha with feare Threaten my life for now to dye my cheefe desyre it were Vl. With stripes with fyre tormenting death we wil the truth out wrest And dolour shal thee force to tel the secrets of thy brest And what thy hart hath depest hid for payne thou shalt expresse Oft tymes th extremity preuayles much more then gentlenesse And. Set me in midst of burning flame with woundes my body rent Vse al the meanes of cruelty that ye may al inuent Proue me with thirst and hunger both and euery torment trye Pearce through my sides with burning yrons in prison let me lie Spare not the worst ye can deuyse if ought be worse then this Yet neuer get ye more of me I wot not where he is Vli. It is but vayne to hyde the thinge that strayght ye wil deteckt No feares may moue the mothers hart she doth them al neglect This tender loue ye beare your child wherin ye stand so stoute So much more circumspectly warnth the Greekes to looke about Least after ten yeares tract of tyme and battell borne so farre Some one should liue that on our children might renew the warre As for my selfe what Calchas sayth I would not feare at all But on Telemachus I dread the smart of warres would fall And. Now will I make Vlisses glad and all the Greekes also Needes must thou woeful wretch confesse declare thy hidden woe Reioyce ye sonnes of Atreus there is no cause of dread Be glad Vlisses tell the Greekes that Hectors sonne is dead Vl. By what assurance proues thou that how shal we credite thee And What euer thing the enmies hand may threaten hap to me Let speedy fates me slay forthwith and earth me hyde at ones And after death from tombe agayne remoue ye Hectors bones Except my sonne already now do rest among the dead And that except Astianax into his tomb be led Vliss. Then fully are the fates fulfild with Hectors childes disceace Now shal I beare the Grecians word of sure and certayne peace Vlisses why what dost thou nowe the Greekes wil euery chone Beleeue thy wordes whom creditst thou the mothers tale alone Thinkst thou for sauegard of her child the mother wil not lye And dread the more the worse mischaunce to geue her sonne to die Her fayth she byndes with bond of oth the truth to verify What thing is more of weight to feare then so to sweare and lye Now call thy craftes togeather al bestirre thy wittes and mynd And shew thy selfe Vlisses now the truth herein to find Search wel thy mothers mynd behold shee weepes and wayleth out And here and ther with doubtful pace she raungeth al aboute Her careful ears she doth apply to harken what I say More frayd shee seemes then sorrowful Now worke some wily way For now most neede of wit there is and crafty pollecy Yet once agayne by other meanes I wil the mother trye Thou wretched woman maist reioyce that dead he is alas More doleful death by destenie for him decreed ther was From Turrets top to haue bene cast and cruelly bene slayne Which onely towre of all the rest doth yet in Troy remayne And. My spright failth me my limmes do quake fear doth my wits cōfounde And as the Ise congeals with frost my bloud with could is bound Vl. She trēbleth loe this way this way I wil the truth out wreaste The mothers fear detecteth all the secrets of her breast I wil renew her feare goe sirs bestir ye spedely To seeke this enmye of the Greekes where euer that he lie Wel done he wil be found at length goe to stil seke him out Now shal he dye what dost thou feare why dost thou looke about And Would God that any cause there were yet left that might me fray My hart at last now all is lost hath layd all feare away Vliss. Sins that your child now hath ye say already suffred death And with his bloud we may not purge the hostes as Caschas sayth Our fleete passe not as wel inspired doth Calchas prophecy Till Hectors ashes cast abroad the waues may pacify And tombe be rent now sins the boy hath skapt his desteny Needes must we breake this holy tombe wher Hectors ashes lie An. What shal I doe my mynd distracted is with double feare On th one my sonne on thother syde my husbandes ashes deare Alas which part should moue me most the cruel Goddes I call To witnes with me in the truth and Ghostes that guide thee all Hector that nothing in my sonne is else that pleaseth me But thou alone God graunt him life he might resemble thee Shal Hectors ashes drowned bee hide I such cruelty To see his bones cast in the Seas yet let Astyanax die And canst thou wretched mother bide thyne owne childes death to see And suffer from the hie towres top that headlong throwne he be I can and wil take in goad part his death and cruel payne So that my Hector after death be not remou'd agayne The boy that life and sences hath may feele his payne and dye But Hector lo his death hath plast at rest in tombe to lie What dost thou stay determine which thou wilt preserue of twayne Art thou in doubt saue this loe here thy Hector doth remayne Both Hectors be th one quicke of spright drawing toward his strēgth And one that may perhaps reuenge his fathers death at length Alas I cannot saue them both I thinke that best it were That of the twayne I saued him that doth the Grecians feare Vl. It shal be done
that Calchas words to vs doth prophecye And now shal all the sumptuous worke be throwne downe vtterly An That once ye sold Vl. I wil it all from toppe to bottome rend An. The fayth of Goddes I call vppon Achilles vs defend And Pyrrhus ayd thy fathers right Vl. This tombe abroad shall lye An. O mischiefe neuer durst the Greekes show yet such cruelty Ye straine the temples and the Gods that most haue fauourd you The dead ye spare not on their tombes your fury rageth now I wil their weapons all resist my selfe with naked hand The yre of hart shal geue me strength their armour to withstand As fierce as did the Amazones beate down the Greekes in fight And Menas once enspierd with God in sacrifyce doth smyght With speare in hand and while with furyous pace she treads the groūd And wood as one in rage she strykes and feeleth not the wound So wil I runne on midst of them and on theyr weapons dye And in defence of Hectors tombe among his ashes lie Vl. Cease ye doth rage and fury vayne of women moue ye ought Dispatch with speede what I commaund plucke downe al to naught An. O slay me rather here with sword rid me out the way Breake vp the deepe Auern and rid my destenies delay Rise Hector and beset thy foes breake thou Vlisses yre A spright art good enough for him behold he casteth fire And weapon shakes with mighty hand do ye not Greekes him see Or els doth Hectors spright appear but onely vnto me Vl. Downe quight withal An. What wilt thou suffer both thy sonnes be slayne And after death thy husbandes bones to be remou'd agayne Perhaps thou mayst with prayer yet aprease the Grecians all Els downe to ground the holy tombe of Hector streight shall fal Let rather die the childe pore wretch and let the Greekes him kil Then father and the sonne should cause the tone the others yll Vllisses at thy knees I fal and humbly aske mercie These handes that no mans feete els knew first at thy feete they lye Take pitty on the mothers case and sorrowes of my breast Vochsafe my prayers to receiue and graunt me my request And by how much the more the Goddes haue thee aduaunced hie More easely stryke the pore estate of wretched misery God graunt the chast bed of thy godly wyfe Penelope May thee receiue and so agayne Laerta may thee see And that thy sonne Telemachus may meete thee ioyfully His graundsires yeares and fathers witte to passe ful happely Take pity on the mothers teares her litle child to saue He is my onely comfort left and th' onely toy I haue Vl. ¶ Bryng forth thy sonne and aske THE SECOND SCENE Andromacha COme hither child out of the dennes to mee Thy wretched mothers lamentable store This Babe Vlisses loe this Babe is hee That stayeth your ships and feareth you so sore Submit thy selfe my sonne with humble hand And worship flat on ground thy maysters feete Thinke it no shame as now the case doth stand The thing that Fortune wilth a wretche is meete Forget thy worthy stocke of Kingly kynd Thinke not on Priams great nobility And put thy father Hector from thy mynde Such as thy Fortune let thy stomacke bee Behaue thy selfe as captiue bend thy Knee And though thy griefe pearce not thy tender yeares Yet learne to wayle thy wretched state by mee And take ensample at thy mothers teares Once Troy hath seene the weeping of a child When litle Priam turnde Alcides threats And he to whom all beastes in strength did yelde That made his way from hel and brake their gates His litle enmies teares yet ouercame Priam he sayd receiue thy liberty In seat of honor kepe thy Kingly name But yet thy Sceptors rule more faythfully Lo such the conquest was of Hercules Of him yet learne your hartes to mollify Do onely Hercles cruel weapons please And may no end be of your cruelty No lesse then Pryam kneeles to thee this boy That lieth and asketh onely life of thee As for the rule and gouernaunce of Troy Where euer fortune wil ther let it bee Take mercy on the mothers ruthful teares That with their streames my cheekes do ouerflow And spare this guiltles infantes tender yeares That humbly falleth at thy feete so lowe THE THIRD SCENE Vlisses Andromacha Astianax OF truth the mothers greate sorow doth moue my hart full sore But yet the mothers of the Greekes of neede must moue me more To whom this boy may cause in time a great calamtie Andr. May euer he the burnt ruines of Troy reedifie And shall these handes in time to come ereckt the towne againe If this be th onely helpe we haue there doth no hope remain For Troy we stand not now in case to cause your feare of mynde Doth ought auayle his fathers force or stocke of noble kinde His fathers heart abated was he drawen the walles abought Thus euil haps the haughttest heart at length they bring to nought If ye wil needes oppresse a wretch what thing more grieuous were Then on his noble neck he should the yoke of bondage bere To serue in life doth any man this to a King denye Vl. Not Vlisses with his death but Calchas prophecy An. O false inuentor of deceipt and hainous cruelty By manhode of whose hand in warre no man did euer dye But by disceipt and crafty trayne of mynd that mischiefe seekes Before this tyme ful many one dead is yea of the Greekes The Prophets wordes and guilties Gods saist thou my sonne require Nay mischiefe of thy breast it is thou dost his death desyre Thou night souldier and stout of hart a litle child to stay This enterprise thou takste alone and that by open day Vl. Vlisses manhood wel to Greekes to much to you is knowne I may not spend the tyme in wordes our Nauy wil be gone And. A little stay while I my last farewel geue to my child And haue with oft embracing him my greedy sorrowes fild Vli. Thy grieuous sorrowes to redresse would God it lay in mee But at thy wil to take delay of tyme I graunt it thee Now take thy last leaue of thy Sonne and fil thy selfe with teares Oft tymes the weeping of the eyes the inward griefe out weakes An. O deere O sweete thy mothers pledge farewel my onely ioy Farewel the flowre of honor left of beaten howse of Troy O Troyans last calamity and feare to Grecians part Farewel thy mothers onely hope and vayne comfort of hart Oft wish I thee thy fathers strength and halfe thy graundsires yeares But all for naught the Gods haue all dispoynted our desires Thou neuer shalt in regal court thy sceptors take in hand Nor to thy people geue decrees nor leade with law thy land Nor yet thine enmies ouercome by might of handy stroke Nor sende the conquerde nations all vnder thy seruile yoke Thou neuer shalt beat downe in fight and Greekes with sword pursew Nor at
obey b' it eyther right or wrong M. The prosperous pryde of wronging crownes cannot endeuer long CR. Auaunt yell out thy complaynts at Colchis get thee hence ME. Full gladly will I get mee home if he that brought me thence Vouchsafe to beare me back agayne CR. Alas to late aryse Entreating wordes when as decree is taken otherwise ME. He that not hearing eyther part pronounceth his decree Vnrighteous man accoumpted is though ryght his sentence bee CR. Whyle Pelias trusted to thy talke from lyfe to death hee fell Go to begyn we gyue you leaue your goodly tale to tell ME. That type of Regall maiesty that erst by Fortunes hand Aduaunced to I dyd attayne hath taught mee vnderstand How hard a thing it is of wrath the rygour to asswage When burning heate of boyling breast in flames begins to rage Eke for th' aduan̄cement of their power more to display in sight Theyr kingly corage bolstred out with maiesty of might They deeme it doth import asway and hath a greater grace Whome stately scepter causde to climbs aloft to prouder place To perseuer with fansye fonde in that to reasons spyght Whose greedy choyce attaynted fyrst his minde with vayne delight For though in piteous plyght I lye throwne downe to great decay With heauy hap and ruthfull chaunce to myserable stay Thus hunted out from place to place forsoke and left alone A wyddow while my husband liue with cause to wayle and mone Perplext in maze of misery wyth cloying cares so ryfe Yet whylom I in golden trone haue led in happy lyfe By high and noble parentage my bryght renowne doth shyne From Phoebus take my Graundsire great deryued is my ligue Whear syluer streamed Phasis flood his wasshing waues doth shed Or with contrary croking wayes his bathing channell spred What euer wandring coast stretcht out is left aloofe behynde From whence the roaming Scithyan Sea his channell forth doth fynde Where as Maeotis fenny plashe with pure fresh water sprynges Doth season sweete the briny Sea that tyde in thyther brynges Eke all the coastes enuyroued and kept within the bankes Of Thermodon where warlike troupes armed wyddowes ranckes With paynted bucklers on their armes holde all the land in feare With rigour rough of threatning sword with force of denting speare So farre to all these wandring coastes and countreyes round about My Fathers ample regiment at large is stretched out I being thus of noble Race and in an happy plight With glorious glosse of pryncely pomp in honour shining bright Then pearelesse Peares my Spousall bed did seeke and sue to haue But those to be theyr louing Feeres now other Ladyes craue Rashe ticle peuish vndiscreete and wauering Fortunes wheele Hath cast me out the crusshing cares of banishment to feele In Scepter proude and hauty Crowne fix thine affyaunce fast Sith vpsidowne with welkin wheele whole mounts of wealth is cast This Prynces doe possesse that should theyr royalty display Whose fame shall neuer razed be with storme of lowring day To succour those whom misery in pit of paynes doth souse To shield and harber suppliaunts in roof of loyall house This onely brought I from my Realme the precious golden Fleece That Iewell chiefe and eke the flower of Chyualry in Greece The sturdy prop the Rampter strong the bulwarke of your wealth And Hercules the boystrous Imp of Ioue I kept in health It was by meanes of my good will that Orpheus did escape Whose harmony the liuelesse Rocks with such delight did rape That forced euen the clottred lumpes with hobling prickt to praunce And eke the iocond nodding woods with footing fine to daunce And that these heauenly twins Castor and Pollux did not by My dew desart is doubled twise sith them preserued I Of Boreas blustring out with puffed Cheekes his blasting Breath His wynged Sons I kept aliue both Calais and Zeath And Linceus that with pearcing beames and sharper sight of Eye Could Nauies on the farther banke of Sicill shore espy And all the Mynians that did come the golden Fleece to win As for the Prince of Princes all I will not bring him in With silence Iason will I passe for whom though him I saue Yet is not Greece in debt to mee no recompence I craue To no man him I doe impute the rest I brought agayne For your auayle that you thereby some profit might attayne But onely on my Iason deare him for my owne loues sake I kept in store that hee of mee his wedded Wyfe should make None other fault God wot yee haue to charge mee with but this That Argo Ship by meanes of mee returned saufely is If I a shamefast mayde had not with Cupids bayte bene caught If more my Fathers health to haue then Iasons I had sought Pelasga land had bene vndone and faine to great decay The lusty valiaunt Capitaynes had cleane bene cast away And ioly Iason fyrst of all this now thy sonne in lawe The Buls had rent his swalowed lims in fiery chomping iawe Let Fortune fight agaynst my case as list her eluish will Yet neuer shall it grieue my heart repent my deede I nill That I should for so many kings their reling honour saue The guerden due that I for this my crime commit must haue It lyeth Creon in thy hande if thus it lyketh thee Condemne my guilty ghost lo death but render fyrst to mee My fault that forced me offend then Creon graunt I this Receauing Iason cause of cryme I guilty did amisse Thou knowst that I was such an one when couring low I lay Before thy feete in humble wise and did entreating pray Thy gracious goodnes mee to graunt some succour at thy hande For me a wreatch and wreatched Babes I aske within this lande Some cotage base in outcast hole some couching corner vile If from the towne thou driue vs out to wander in exile The some by place aloofe within this realme let vs obtayne CR. How I am none that tyrant like with churlish Scepter raygne Nor proudly or disdaynfully with hawty corage hie With vaūting foote doe stamp them downe that vndertroden lye And daunted are in carefull bale thys playnly doth disclose In that to mee of late I such a sonne in lawe haue chose Who was a wandring pilgrim poore with sore afflictions fraight Dismayde with terrour of his foe that lay for him in wayght Because Acastus hauing got the crowne of Thessail lande Requyreth in thy guilty bloude to bath his wreackfull hande He doth bewayle that good olde man his feeble father slayne Whom waight of yeres with bowing back to stoupe alow constrayne The godly mynded systers all yblinde with misty vale And cloking colour of thy craft durst ventrusly assayle That mount of myschiefe marueylous to mangle heaw and cut Theyr Fathers dere vnioynted limmes in boyling Caldron put But for thy open guiltinesse if thou can purge the same Strayght Iason can discharge him selfe from blot of guilty blame His gentle handes were neuer staynde with goare of any
When as his honour budding forth with flowre began to bloome Alas the stocke was hewed downe and sent to deadly doome And they that of his victory and comming home were glad To sodayne mourning chaunge their myrth with heauinesse bestad The lusty pompe of royall courte is deade O dolefull day The people mone theyr prynces death with woe and weale away With howling crying wringing hands with sobs with sighes teares And with their fists they beate their breasts they pull hale their heares And as the sheepe amased run and rampe aboute the fielde When as theyr shepherd to the Wolfe his goary throate doth yeelde Euen so as mad they rage and raue throughout Micoenas land Depriued of theyr Prynce they feare the bloudy Tyrauntes hand While thus were woefull waylings hard in euery place about The good Cassandra come from Troy to death is haled out Like as the Swan who when the time of death approcheth nye By nature warned is thereof and pleased well to dye Doth celebrate her funerall with dirge and solemne songe Euen so the noble vyrgin who in woe hath liued longe Most ioyfull goes she to her death with milde and pleasaunt face Stout bouistring out her burly breast with pryncely porte and grace Nothing dismayde with courage bolde and chearefull countenaunce On stage ordeyned for her death shee gan her selfe aduaunce As though she had not thyther come to leaue her lothsome lyfe As though she had not come to taste the stroke of fatall knyfe But euen as it in brydale bed her iourney were to meete Corebus deare not hauing mynde of death nor winding sheete When looking rounde on euery side she tooke her leaue of all From vapourde eyes of younge and olde the trickling teares doe fall The Greekes them selues to griefe are moude to see this heauy sight So pity pearst the headmans heart that thrise aboute to smite He stayde the smot with shiuering hand yet once agayne he tryed And from her shoulders stroke her heade And thus the vyrgin dyed But now the Greekes another cause of mourning haue in hand Orestes Agamemnons some is forst to fly the land Amonge olde rotten ragged Rockes there lies an vgly place A Dungeon deepe as darke as hell vnknowne to Phoebus face An holow huge wyde gaping hole with way still bending downe Whose mouth with venonous wythred weedes is hid and ouergrowne Where stinking smels come belching out from filthy durty dyke Where Verment vyle doe creepe and craule in hell is not the lyke Ilfauourde foule misshapen bugges doe lucke about this caue With dreadfull sounds and roaring noyse withing the pit they raue Euen heather is Electra sent in darckenesse deepe to lye In pouerty and comfortlesse without the lyght of skye Fast clogde with Yron boults and Chaynes thus by her mother layde In torments till by her to death Orestes be betrayde Who as Cassandra telleth shall reuenge his fathers death Depryue with swerd th' adulterour and Mother both of breath So after all these bloudy broyle Greece neuer shall bee free But bloud for bloud and death by turnes the after age shall see FINIS THE NINTHE Tragedy of Lucius Annaeus Seneca called Octauia Translated out of Latine into Englishe by T.N. The Argument OCtauia daughter to prince Claudius grace To Nero espousd whom Claudius did adopt Although Syllanus first in husbandes place Shee had receiu'd whom she for Nero chopt Her parente both her Make that should haue bene Her husbandes present Tiranny much more Her owne estate her case that she was in Her brothers death pore wretch lamenteth sore Him Seneca doth persuade his latter loue Dame Poppie Crispynes wife that some time was And eake Octauias maide for to remoue For Senecks counsel he doth lightly passe But Poppie ioynes to him in marriage rites The people wood into his pallace runne Hir golden fourmed shapes which them sore spytes They pul to ground this vprore now begunne To quench he some to griesly death doth send But her close cased vp in dreadful barge With her vnto Campania coast to wend A band of armed men he gane in charge THE FIRST SCENE The Speakers names Octauia Nutrix Chorus Romanorum Seneca Nuntius Agrippina Poppea Nero Praefectus Octauia NOw that Aurore with glitteryng streames The glading starres from skye doth chase Syr Phoebus pert with spouting beames From dewy neast doth mount apace And with his cheerefull lookes doth yeeld Vnto the world a gladsome day Go to O wretch with ample Fielde Of heauy cares oppressed aye Thy grieuous wonted playntes recount Do not alone with sighes and howles The Seaysh Aloyones surmounte But also passe the Pandyon foules More yrksome is thy state then theirs O Mother deare whose death by fits I nyll lament but still shed teares My ground of griefe in thee it sits If that in shade of darksome denne Perceiuing sence at al remayne Heare out at large O mother then My great complayntes and grieuous payne O that immortall Clothos wrist Had torne in twayne my vitall thred Ere I vnto my griefe had wist Thy woundes and face of sanguine red O day which aye doth me annoy Since that tyme did I more desyre The feareful darknes to enioy Than Phoebus fresh with fayre attyre I haue abode the bitter hest Of stepdame dire in mothers place I haue abode her cruell breast Hir stomake stout and fighting face She Shee for spyte vnto my case A doleful and a graue Eryn To Bridegromes chamber spousall space The Stygian flashing flames brought in And thee alas most piteous Syre With traytrous traynes hath shee bereft Of breathing soule with poysoned myre To whom ere whyle the world all left Vnvanquisht from the Ocean Seas By martiall feats did freely yeeld And didst subdue with wondrous ease The Brittayne brutes that fledde the fielde Whom liuing at their propre swaye No Romayne power did earst inuade Now lo ful wel lament I may Thy Spouse deceypte thy prowes hath lade : And now thy court and child of yore With homage serue a Tyrantes lore THE SECOND SCENE Nutrix WHom so the glistering pompe of royal place With soden sight ynumd doth quite disgrace Who so at courtly fleeting ebbing blase Astonied sore himselfe doth much amase Lo see of late the great and mighty stocke By lurking Fortunes sodayne forced knocke Of Claudius quite subuert and cleane extinct Tofore who held the world in his precinct The Brittayne Ocean coast that long was free He ruld at wil and made it to agree Their Romaine Gallies great for to embrace Lo he that Tanais people first did chase And Seas vnknowen to any Romayne wight With lusty sheering shippes did ouerdight And safe amid the sauage freakes did fight And ruffling surging seas hath nothing dread By cruel spouses gilt doth lye all dead Her sonne likewyse more fiend then Tigre fierce Of naturall mother makes a funerall herse Whose brother drenched deepe with poysoned cup Pore Britannick his senseles soule gaue vp Octauia sister and vnhappy make Doth sore lament her