For lo these naked walles do well declare My latest leaue of thée I taken haue And vnknowen coastes which I must séeke with care Do well diuine that there shal be my graue There shall my death make many for to mone Skarce knowne to them well knowne to thee alone This bowne of thée as last request I craue When true report shall sounde my death with fame Vouchsafe yet then to go vnto my graue And there first write my byrth and then my name And how my life was shortned many yeares By womens wyles as to the world appeares And in reward of graunt to this request Permit O God my toung these woordes to tell When as his pen shall write vpon my chest With shriking voyce mine owne deare friend farewell No care on earth did séeme so much to me As when my corps was forst to part from thée Si fortunatus infoelix He wrote to the same friend from Excester this Sonet following A Hundreth sonnes in course but not in kind Can witnesse well that I possesse no ioye The feare of death which fretteth in my mind Consumes my hart with dread of darke anoye And for eche sonne a thousand broken sléepes Deuide my dreames with fresh recourse of cares The youngest sister sharpe hir sheare she kéepes To cut my thred and thus my life it weares Yet let such daies such thousand restlesse nights Spit forth their spite let fates eke showe their force Deathes daunting dart where so his buffet lights Shall shape no change within my friendly corse But dead or liue in heauen in earth in hell I wil be thine where so my carkase dwell Si fortunatus infoelix He wrote to the same friend from Founteine belle eaü in Fraunce this Sonnet in commendation of the said house of Fountaine bel'eaü NOt stately Troye though Priam yet did liue Could now compare Founteine bel'eaü to passe Nor Syrian towers whose loftie steppes did striue To climbe the throne where angry Saturne was For outward shew the ports are of such price As skorne the cost which Cesar spilt in Roome Such works within as stayne the rare deuise Which whilome he Apelles wrought on toome Swift Tiber floud which fed the Romayne pooles Puddle to this where Christall melts in streames The pleasaunt place where Muses kept their schooles Not parcht with Phoebe nor banisht from his beames Yeeld to those Dames nor sight nor fruite nor smell Which may be thought these gardens to excell Si fortunatus infoelix He wrote vnto a Skotish Dame whom he chose for his Mistresse in the French Court as followeth LAdy receyue receiue in gracious wise This ragged verse these rude ill skribled lines Too base an obiect for your heauenly eyes For he that writes his fréedome lo resignes Into your handes and fréely yéelds as thrall His sturdy necke earst subiect to no yoke But bending now and headlong prest to fall Before your féete such force hath beauties stroke Since then mine eyes which skornd our English dames In forrayne courtes haue chosen you for fayre Let be this verse true token of my flames And do not drench your owne in déepe dispayre Onely I craue as I nill change for new That you vouchsafe to thinke your seruaunt trew Si fortunatus infoelix A Sonet written in prayse of the browne beautie compiled for the loue of Mistresse E. P. as foloweth THe thristles thred which pampred beauty spinnes In thraldom binds the foolish gazing eyes As cruell Spiders with their crafty ginnes In worthlesse webbes doe snare the simple Flies The garments gay the glittring golden gite The tysing talk which flowes from Pallas pooles The painted pale the too much red made white Are smiling baytes to fishe for louing fooles But lo when eld in toothlesse mouth appeares And hoary heares in stéede of beauties blaze Than had I wist doth teach repenting yeares The tickle track of craftie Cupides maze Twixt faire and foule therfore twixt great and small A louely nuthrowne face is best of all Si fortunatus infoelix Now to begin with another man take these verses written to be sent with a ryng wherein were engraued a Partrich in a Merlines foote THe Partridge in the pretie Mertines foote Who féeles hir force supprest with fearfulnesse And findes that strength nor strife can do hir boote To scape the danger of hir déepe distresse These wofull wordes may séeme for to reherse Which I must write in this waymenting verse What helpeth now sayeth she dame natures skill To die my feathers like the dustie ground Or what preuayles to lend me winges at will Which in the ayre can make my bodie bound Since from the earth the dogges me draue perforce And now aloft the Hauke hath caught my corse If chaunge of colours could not me conuey Yet mought my wings haue scapt the dogges despite And if my wings did fayle to flie away Yet mought my strength resist the Merlines might But nature made the Merline mée to kill And me to yéeld vnto the Merlines will. My lot is like déere Dame beleue me well The quiet life which I full closely kept Was not content in happie state to dwell But forth in hast to gaze on thée it lept Desire thy dogge did spring me vp in hast Thou wert the Hauke whose tallents caught me fast What should I then séeke meanes to flie away Or striue by force to breake out of thy féete No no perdie I may no strength assay To striue with thée ywis it were not méete Thou art that Hauke whom nature made to hent me And I the Byrd that must therewith content me And since Dame nature hath ordayned so Hir happie hest I gladly shall embrace I yéeld my will although it were to wo I stand content to take my griefe for grace And seale it vp within my secrete hart Which seale receiue as token of my smart Spraeta tamen viuunt A louing Lady being wounded in the spring time and now galded eftsones with the remembrance of the spring doth therfore thus bewayle THis tenth of March when Aries receyud Dame Phoebus rayes into his horned head And I my selfe by learned lore perceyu'd That Ver approcht and frostie winter fled I crost the Thames to take the cherefull ayre In open féeldes the weather was so fayre And as I rowed fast by the further shore I heard a voyce which séemed to lament Whereat I stay'd and by a stately dore I left my Boate and vp on land I went Till at the last by lasting paine I found The wofull wight which made this dolefull sound In pleasant garden placed all alone I sawe a Dame who sat in weary wise With scalding sighes she vttred all hir mone The ruefull teares downe rayned from hir eyes Hir lowring head full lowe on hand she layed On knée hir arme and thus this Lady sayed Alas quod she behold eche pleasaunt gréene Will now renew his sommers liuery The fragrant flowers which haue not long bene séene Will florish
But what for that no force they make thereof no boast They féede them selues with delycates and at the princes cost And as for all their men their pages and their swaynes They choke thē vp with chynes of béefe to multiply their gaines Themselues lie néere to looke when any leafe doth fall Such cromes were wont to féede pore gromes but nowe the Lords sicke al. And why oh sir because both dukes lords haue néede I mocke not I my text is true beléeue it as your créede Our Prelates and our Priests can tell this text with mée They can hold fast their fattest fermes and let no lease go frée They haue both wife and childe which maye not be for got The scriptures say the Lord hath neede therfore blame them not Then come a little lower vnto the contrye knight The squire and the gentleman they leaue the countrye quite Their Halles were all to large their tables were to long The clouted shoes came in so faste they kepte to great a throng And at the porters lodge where lubbers wonte to féede The porter learnes to answere now hence hence the Lord hath neede His gestes came in to thicke their diet was to great Their horses eate vp all the hey which should haue fed his neate Their teeth were farre to fine to féede on porke and souse Fyue flocks of shéepe could scarce maintaine good mutten for his house And when this count was cast it was no biding here Vnto the good towne is he gonne to make his frends good chéere And welcome there that will but shall I tell you howe At his owne dish he féedeth them that is the fashion nowe Side bords be layed aside the tables ende is gonne His cooke shall make you noble chéere but hostler hath he none The chargers now be changde wherin he wont to eate An olde frutedish is bigge ynough to hold a ioynte of meate A sallad or a sauce to tast your cates with all Som strāg deuise to féede mēs eies mēs stomacks now be small And when the tenauntes come to paie their quarters rent They bringe some fowle at Midsommer a dish of Fish in Lent At Christmasse a capon at Mighelmasse a goose And somewhat else at Newyeres tide for feare their lease flie loose Good reason by my troth when Gentlemen lacke groates Let Plowmen pinche it out for pence patch their russet coates For better Fermers fast than Manner houses fall The Lord hath néede than says the text bring old Asse colt all Well lowest nowe at last let sée the contrye loute And marke how he doth swink sweat to bring this geare about His feastinges be but fewe cast whipstockes clout his shoone The wheaten loafe is locked vp as sone as dinners doone And where he wonte to kepe a lubber two or thrée Now hath he learnd to kepe no more but Sim his sonne and he His wife and Mawde his mayd a boye to pitch the carte And turne him vp at Hollontide to féele the winter smarte Dame Alyson his wife doth knowe the price of meale Hir bride cakes be not halfe so bigge as she was wont to steale She weares no siluer hookes she is content with worsse Hir pendantes and hir siluer pinnes she putteth in hir pursse Thus learne I by my glasse that merrie meane is best And he most wise that finds the meane to kéepe himselfe at rest Perchaunce some open mouth will mutter now and than And at the market tell his mate our landlordes a zore man He racketh vp our rentes and kéepes the best in hand He makes a wōdrous deale of good out of his own measne land Yea let suche pelters prate saint Needam be their spéede We néede no text to answer them but this The Lord hath nede Euer or neuer An Epitaph vpon Captaine Bourcher late slaine in the warres in Zelande the which hath bene termed the tale of a stone as foloweth FYe Captaines fie your tongues are tyed to close Your Souldiours eke by silence purchase shame Can no man penne in méetre nor in prose The lyfe the death the valliaunt actes the fame The birth behauiour nor the noble name Of such a féere as you in fight haue lost Alas such paines would quickly quite the cost Bourcher is dead whome eche of you dyd knowe Yet no man writes one worde to paint his praise His sprite on highe his earkasse here belowe Doth both condemne your doting ydle dayes Yet ceasse they not to sounde his worthy wayes Who liued to dye and dyed againe to liue With death déere bought he dyd his death forgiue Hée might for byrth haue boasted noble race Yet were his manners méeke and alwayes milde Who gaue a gesse by gazing on his face And iudgde thereby might quickly be beguilde In fielde a Lion and in Towne a Childe Fierce to his foe but courteouse to his friende Alas the while his life so soone should ende To serue his Prince his life was euer prest To serue his God his death he thought but dew In all attempts as foreward as the best And all to forewardes which we all may rew His life so shewed his death eke tried it true For where his foes in thickest prease dyd stande Bourcher caught bane with bloodie sworde in hande And marke the courage of a noble heart When he in bed laye wounded wondrous sore And heard allarme he soone forgot his smart And calde for armes to shewe his seruice more I wyll to fielde quod he and God before Which sayde he sailde into more quiet coast Styll praysing God and so gaue vp the ghost Nowe muze not reader though we stones can speake Or write sometimes the déedes of worthy ones I could not holde although my heart should breake Because here by me buryed are his bones But I must tell this tale thus for the nones When men crye mumme and kéepe such silence long Then stones must speake els dead men shall haue wrong Finis quod Marmaduke Marblestone ¶ A deuise of a Marke for the right honorable Viscount Mountacute written vpon this occasion when the sayde L. had prepared to solemnize twoo marriages betweene his sonne and heyre and the Daughter of syr VVilliam Dormer Knight and betweene the sonne and heyre of syr VVilliam Dormer and the Daughter of the said L. Mountacute there were eight Gentlemen all of blood or alliaunce to the sayd L. Mountacute which had determined to present a Maske at the daye appointed for the sayd marriages and so farre they had proceeded therein that they had alreadye bought furniture of Silkes c and had caused their garmentes to bee cut of the Venetian fashion Nowe then they began to imagine that without some speciall demonstration it would seeme somewhat obscure to haue Venetians presented rather than other countrey men VVherevpon they entreated the Aucthour to deuise some verses to bee vttered by an Actor wherein might be some discourse conuenient to render a good cause of the Venetians presence The Aucthour
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
him out his share in ragged shéetes He cannot stoupe to take a gréedy pray Vpon his fellowes groueling in the stréetes He cannot pull the spoyle from such as pill And séeme full angrie at such foule offence Although the gayne content his gréedie will Vnder the cloake of contrarie pretence And now adayes the man that shootes not so May shoote amisse euen as your Woodman dothe But then you maruell why I lette them go And neuer shoote but saye farewell forsooth Alas my Lord while I doe muze hereon And call to minde my youthfull yeares myspente They giue mee suche a boane to gnawe vpon That all my senses are in silence pente My minde is rapte in contemplation Wherein my dazeled eyes onely beholde The blacke houre of my constellation Which framed mée so lucklesse on the molde Yet therewithall I can not but confesse That vayne presumption makes my heart to swell For thus I thinke not all the worlde I guesse Shootes bet than I nay some shootes not so well In Aristotle somewhat did I learne To guyde my manners all by comelynesse And Tullie taught me somewhat to discerne Betwéene swéete spéeche and barbarous rudenesse Olde Parkyns Rastall and Dan Bractens bookes Did lende mée somewhat of the lawlesse Lawe The craftie Courtiers with their guylefull lookes Must néedes put some experience in my mawe Yet can not these with many maystries mo Make me shoote streyght at any gaynfull pricke Where some that neuer handled such a bow Can hit the white or touch it neare the quicke Who can nor speake nor write in pleasant wise Nor leade their life by Aristotles rule Nor argue well on questions that arise Nor pleade a case more than my Lord Mairs mule Yet can they hit the marks that I do misse And winne the meane which may the man mainteyne Now when my minde doth mumble vpon this No wonder then although I pine for payne And whiles mine eyes beholde this mirrour thus The hearde goeth by and farewell gentle does So that your Lordship quickely may discusse What blindes mine eyes so ofte as I suppose But since my Muse can to my Lorde reherse What makes me misse and why I doe not shoote Let me imagine in this woorthlesse verse If right before mée at my standings foote There stoode a Doe and I should strike hir deade And then shée proue a carrian carkas too What figure might I finde within my head To scuse the rage whiche rulde mée so to doo Some myght interprete by playne paraphrase That lacke of skill or fortune ledde the chaunce But I must otherwise expounde the case I say Iehoua did this Doe aduaunce And made hir bolde to stande before mée so Till I had thrust mine arrowe to hir harte That by the sodaine of hir ouerthrowe I myght endeuour to amende my parte And turne myne eyes that they no more beholde Such guylefull markes as séeme more than they be And though they glister outwardely like golde Are inwardly but brasse as men may sée And when I sée the milke hang in hir teate Me thinkes it sayth olde babe now learne to sucke Who in thy youth couldst neuer learne the feate To hitte the whytes whiche liue with all good lucke Thus haue I tolde my Lorde God graunt in season A tedious tale in rime but little reason Haud ictus sapio Gascoignes gardnings whereof were written in one end of a close walke whiche he hath in his Garden this discourse following THe figure of this world I can compare To Garden plots and such like pleasaunt places The world bréedes men of sundry shape and share As hearbes in gardens grow of sundry graces Some good some bad some amiable faces Some foule some gentle some of froward mind Subiect like bloome to blast of euery wind And as you sée the floures most fresh of hew That they proue not alwayes the holesomest So fayrest men are not alwayes found true But euen as withred wéedes fall from the rest So flatterers fall naked from their neast When truth hath tried their painting tising tale They loose their glosse and all their iests séeme stale Yet some do present pleasure most estéeme Till beames of brauerie wither all their welth And some agayne there be can rightly déeme Those herbes for best which may mainteine their helth Considering well that age drawes on by stelth And when the fayrest floure is shronke and gone A well growne roote will stand and shifte for one Then thus the restlesse life which men here leade May be resembled to the tender plant In spring it sprouts as babes in cradle bréede Florish in May like youthes that wisdome want In Autumne ripes and rootes least store waxe skante In winter shrinks and shrowdes from euery blast Like crooked age when lusty youth is past And as the grounde or grace whereon it grewe Was fatte or leane euen so by it appeares ▪ If barreyn soyle why then it chaungeth hewe It fadeth faste it flits to fumbling yeares But if he gathered roote amongst his féeres And light on lande that was well muckte in déede Then standes it still or leaues increase of séede As for the reste fall sundrie wayes God wot Some faynt lyke froathe at euery little puffe Some smarte by swoorde like hearbes that serue the pot And some be wéeded from the finer stuffe Some stande by proppes to maynteyne all their ruffe And thus vnder correction bée it tolde Hath Gascoigne gathered in his Garden molde Haud ictus sapio In that other ende of his sayde close walke were written these toyes in ryme IF any floure that here is growne Or any hearbe may ease your payne Take and accompte it as your owne But recompence the lyke agayne For some and some is honest playe And so my wyfe taughte me to saye If here to walke you take delight Why come and welcome when you will If I bidde you suppe here this night Bidde me an other time and still Thinke some and some is honest playe For so my wife taught me to saye Thus if you suppe or dine with mée If you walke here or fitte at ease If you desire the thing you sée And haue the same your minde to please Thinke some and some is honest playe And so my wife taught me to saye Haud ictus sapio In a chayre in the same Garden was written this followyng IF thou sitte here to viewe this pleasant garden place Think thus at last will come a frost all these floures deface But if thou sitte at ease to rest thy wearie bones Remember death brings finall rest to all oure gréeuous grones So whether for delight or here thou sitte for ease Thinke still vpon the latter day so shalt thou God best please Haud ictus sapio Vpon a stone in the wall of his Garden he had written the yeare wherein he did the coste of these deuises and therewithall this posie in Latine Quoniam etiam humiliatos amoena delectant Gascoignes voyage into Hollande An. 1572.
to liue as better death endure To heare those hellishe fiendes in raging blasphemie Defye our onely Sauiour were this no miserie To sée the fowle abuse of boyes in tender yéeres The which I knowe must néedes abhorre all honest Christians eares To sée maides rauished Wiues Women forst by feare And much more mischiefe than this time can let me vtter here Alas quod he I tell not all my tongue is tyde But all the slaueries on the earth we should with them abide How much were better than to dye in worthy wise And so to make our carkasses a wylling Sacrifice So shall we paye the debt which vnto God is due So shall you die in his defence who deind to die for you And who with hardy hand most Turkish tikes can quell Let him accompt in conscience to please his maker well You sée quod he my sonne wherewith hée lookt on mée Whome but a babe yet haue I brought my partner here to bée For him I must confesse my heart is pensiue nowe To leaue him lyuing thus in youth to die I know not how But since it pleaseth God I may not murmure I If God had pleased we both should liue and as God wyll we dye Thus with a braying sigh his noble tongue he stayde Commaunding all the ordinaunce in order to be laide And placing all his men in order for to fight Fell groueling styll vpon his face before them all in sight And when in secréete so he whispered had a while He raisde his head with chéerefull looke his sorrowes to beguile And with the rest he prayde to God in heauen on hie Which ended thus Thou onely Lord canst helpe in miserie This sayd behold the Turkes enclosde vs round about And séemde to wonder that we durst resist so great a rout Wherat they doubt not long for though our power was slender We sent them signes by Canon shot that we ment not to render Then might we sée them chafe then might we heare them rage And all at once they bent their force about our silly cage Our ordinaunce bestowed our men them selues defend On euery side so thicke beset they might not long contend But as their captaine wilde eche man his force did strayne To send a Turke some two or thrée vnto the hellishe trayne And he himselfe which sawe he might no more abide Did thrust a mide the thickest throng and so with honour died With him there dyed like wise his best aproued men The rest did yéeld as men amazd they had no courage then Amongest the which my selfe was tane by Turkes alas And with the Turkes a turkish life in Turkie must I passe I was not done to death for so I often craude But like a slaue before the Gattes of Famagosta saude That péece once put to sacke I thither was conueyed And vnder sauegard euermore I silly boye was stayed There dyd I sée such sightes as yet my heart do pricke I sawe the noble Bragadine when he was fleyd quicke First like a slaue enforst to beare to euery breach Two baskets laden full with earth Mustaffa dyd him teach By whome he might not passe before he kyst the grounde These cruell tormentes yet with mo that worthy souldior found His eares cut from his head they set him in a chayre And from a maine yard hoisted him aloft into the ayre That so he might be shewed with crueltie and spight Vnto vs all whose wéeping eyes dyd much abhorre the sight Alas why do I thus with woefull wordes rehearse These werye newes which all our heartes with pittie néedes must pearce Well then to tell you forth I styll a slaue remaind To one which Prelybassa hight who held me styll enchaind With him I went to Seas into the gulfe of Pant With many christians captiues mo which dyd their fréedom wāt There with the Turkishe traine we were enforst to staye With waltring styll vpon the waues dyd waite for furder praye For why they had aduise that the Venetian fléete Dyd floote in Argostelly then with whome they hopte to méete And as they waltered thus with tides and billowes tost Their hope had hap for at the last they met them to their cost As in October last vppon the seuenth daye They found the force of christian knightes addrest in good aray And shall I trie my tong to tell the whole discourse And howe they did encounter first and howe they ioynd in force Then harken nowe my lords for sure my memorye Doth yet recorde the very plot of all this victorye The christian crew came on in forme of battayle pight And like a cressent cast them selues preparing for to fight On other side the Turkes which trusted power to much Disorderly did spread their force the will of God was such Well at the last they met and first with cannones thunder Eache other sought with furious force to slit their ships in sunder The barkes are battered sore the gallies gald with shot The hulks are hit and euery man must stand vnto his lot The powder sendes his smoke into the cruddy skies The smoulder stops our nose with stench the fume offends our eies The pots of lime vnsteakt from highest top are cast The parched pease are not for got to make them slip as fast The wilde fire works are wrought and cast in foemens face The grappling hooks are streched foorth the pikes are pusht a pace The halbert hewe on hed the browne billes bruse the bones The harquebush doth spit his spight with prety persing stones The drummes crie dub a dub the braying trumpets blow The whistling fifes are seldom herd these sounds do drowne thē so The voyce of warlike wights to comfort them that faynt The pitious plaints of golden harts which were with feares attaint The groning of such ghosts as gasped nowe for breath The praiers of the better sort prepared vnto death And to be short eache griefe which on the earth maye growe Was eath and easie to be found vpon these floudes to flowe If any sight on earth maye vnto hell resemble Then sure this was a hellishe sighte it makes me yet to tremble And in this bloudie fight when halfe the daye was spent It pleazed God to helpe his flocke which thus in poūd was pent The generall of Spayne gan gald that galley sore Where in my Prely Bassa was and grieude it more and more Vpon that other side with force of sworde and flame The good Venetian Generall dyd charge vpon the same At leength they came aboorde and in his raging pride Stroke of this Turkish captains head which blasphemd as it dide Oh howe I féele the bloud now trickle in my brest To thinke what ioye then pierst my heart and how I thought me blest To sée that cruell Turke which held me as his slaue By happie hand of Christians his paiment thus to haue His head from shoulders cut vpon a Pike dyd stand The which Don Iohn of Austrye helde in his triumphant hand
alone but many mo with me Had found what ficklenesse his Idoll vsed And how she claimed Cressides heire to be And how she had his great good will abused And how she was of many men refused Who tride hir tricks and knew hir by the kinde Saue only him she made no louer blinde But what for this whose face is plainer séene Than he which thinkes he walketh in a net Or who in bale hath euer deeper béene Than he which thought his state might not be bet In such a iollitye these louers iet That weale to them doeth séeme to bée but wo. And griefe séemes ioye they feede theyr fancyes so Tell him that reason ought to be his rule And he allowed no reason but his owne Tell him that best were quicklye to recule Before all force by feares were ouerthrowne And that his base were better ouerblowne Then thus to pine remedylesse in griefe And he would saye that griefe was his reliefe Short tale to make so long he lyued thus Tyll at the last he gan in deede to dye Beléeue me Lordes and by him that dyed for vs I sawe him giue to close his dying eye I sawe him stryue and strangle passingly And suche a griefe I tooke that yet I not If he or I had then more griefe ygot But who hath séene a Lampe begyn to fade Which lacketh oyle to feede his lyngring lyght And then againe who so hath séene it made With oyle and wéecke to last the longsome night Let him conceyue that I sawe such a sight Whereof to thinke although I sighde erewhile Loe nowe I laughe my sorrowes to beguile Vpon the stones a trampling stéede we heard Which came ful straight vnto our lodging doore And straight therwith we heard how one enquirde If such a Knight as I describde before Were lodged there the Hoast withouten more Sayd yes forsooth and God he knowes quod he He is as sicke as any man maye bée The messenger sware by no bugges I trowe But bad our hoast to bring him where he laye Quod I to Bartholmew I heare by lowe A voice which séemes somewhat of you to saye And eare that past not full a furlong waye Behold the man came stowping in at doore And truth to tell he syked wondrous sore At last from out his bosome dyd he take A Letter sealde yfolded fayre and well And kyssing it I thinke for Mistresse sake He sayd to Bartholmew Syr Knight be well Nowe reade these lines the which I néede not tell From whence they come but make an ende of mone For you are sicke and she is woe begone The théefe condemnde and gone to gallowe trée If one crye Grace lo here a Pardon prest Doth dye sometimes when most he séemde to be From death redéemd such bronts may bréede in brest Twyxt sodaine ioye and thoughts which paine opprest The Romaine VViddowe dyed when she beheld Hir Sunne whome earst She compted slaine in field So Bartholmew twéene griefe and sodaine ioye Laye styll in traunce me thinkes I sée him yet And out of doubte it gaue me such anoye To sée him so him selfe in fancies fret That sure I thought his eyes in head were set And that he laye as some saye drawing on Vntill his breath and all were past and gone But high degrées of heauen which had ordainde For his decaye a freshe delaye of paine Reuiued him yet from his eyes downe raind Such rewfull teares as moued me to plaine The dolefull plight wherein he dyd remaine For trust me now to sée him sorrowe so It might haue made a stone to melt in wo. Thrise dyd his tongue beginne to tell his thought And thrise alas it foltred in his mouth With stopping sobbes and skalding sighes he sought To vtter that which was to me vncouth So staies the streame when furiouslie it flouth And filles the dikes where it had wont to swimme Vntill by force it breakes aboue the brimme At last with paine the first word that he spake Was this Alas and therewithall he stayed His feebled Iawes and hollowe voyce could make None other sounde his thoughtes were all dismayed His hearye head full lowe in bosome layed Yet when he sawe me marke what he would saye He cryed right out Alas and wel awaye Alas quod he deare friend behold this bloode And with that word be gan againe to sorrowne The messenger which in a studdye stoode Awakt at last and in mine eare dyd rowne Saying those lines which I haue there throwen downe Were written all with blood of hir owne hande For whome he nowe in this distresse doth stande And since quod he She hath vouchsafed so To shead hir blood in witnesse of hir griefe Me thinkes he rather should relieue hir wo Then thus deny to send hir some reliefe Alas alas quod he she holdes him chiefe And well wote I what ere his fansie bee There sittes no man so néere hir heart as hée Therewith he raysde his heauy head alight Askaunces Ha in déede and thinkst thou so But out alas his weake and weary sprit Forbad his tongue in furder termes to go His thought sayd Haight his sillie speache cryed Ho. And thus he laye in dompes and dolefull trance Tyll darksome night dyd somewhat change his chance For when the light of day began to fade And courtins round about his bed were drawne A golden slomber dyd his lymmes inuade And held him husht tyll daye againe gan dawne Whereby Dame quiet put him in a pawne To set his thoughts which striued earst at one And bad debate be packing to be gone Percase swéete loue dyd lull him so on sléepe Perhaps Dame fansie rockt the Cradell too How so it were I take thereof no kéepe With such conceiptes haue I nothing to doo But when he wakt he asked plainly who Had brought him so from rage to quiet rest And who had borne the torments from his brest Quod I my friend here is a letter lo Behold it here and be all hole againe What man were he that wyther would in wo Which thus might prosper in despite of paine Were he not worse then mad which would complaine On such a friend as this to me doth séeme Which for thy health hir blood doth not estéeme Thus much I sayd to comfort him God knowes But what I thought that kéepe I cloose in hold Sometimes a man must flatter with his foes And sometimes saye that brasse is bright as Gold For he that hath not all thinges as he would Must winke sometimes as though he dyd not sée And séeme to thinke thinges are not as they bée Dan Bartholmew gan take the briefe in hand And brake the seale but when he saw the blood Good Lord how bolt vpright his héere dyd stand For though the friendly wordes therein were good Yet many a thought they moued in his moode As well appeared by his flecked chéekes Nowe cherrye redde nowe pale and gréene as léekes I dreamt quod he that I was done to death And that I laye full
crowne Whose haughty harts to hent all honour haunte Till high mishaps their doughtiest deedes do daunte 43 All these with mo my penne shall ouerpasse Since Haughty harte hath fixt his fansie thus Let chaunce sayeth he be fickell as it was Sit bonus in re mala Animus Nam omne solum viro forti Ius And fie sayeth he for goods or filthie gaine I gape for glorie all the rest is vayne 44 Vayne is the rest and that most vayne of all A smouldring smoke which flieth with euery winde A tickell treasure like a trendlyng ball A passing pleasure mocking but the minde A fickle fée as fansie well can finde A sommers fruite whiche long can neuer last But ripeneth soone and rottes againe as fast 45 And tell me Haughty harte confesse a truth What man was aye so safe in Glories porte But traynes of treason oh the more the ruth Could vndermine the Bulwarkes of this forte And raze his ramparts downe in sundrie sorte Searche all thy bookes and thou shalt finde therein That honour is more harde to holde than winne 46 Aske Iulius Caesar if this tale be true The man that conquered all the world so wide Whose onely worde commaunded all the crue Of Romayne Knights at many a time and tide Whose pompe was thought so great it could not glide At last with bodkins dubd and doust to death And all his glorie banisht with his breath 47 Of malice more what should I make discource Than thy foule fall proude Pompey by thy name Whose swelling harte enuying Caesars force Did boyle and burne in will and wicked flame By his downe fall thy fonder clyme to frame Till thine owne head bebathed with enmies teares Did ende thy glorie with thy youthfull yeares 48 Alas alas how many may we reade Whome sicknesse sithe hath cut as gréene as grasse Whome colde in Campes hath chaungd as pale as leade Whose greace hath molt all caffed as it was With charges giuen with skarmouching in chasse Some lamed with goute soone gotten in the field Some forst by fluxe all glorie vp to yéeld 49 Of sodayne sores or clappes caught vnaware By sworde by shotte by mischief or by mine What néede I more examples to declare Then Montacute which died by doome deuine For when he had all France defayct in fine From lofty towre discouering of his foes A Cannons clappe did all his glorie lose 50 I had forgot wherein I was to blame Of bolde braue Bourbon somewhat for to say That Haughty hart whome neuer Prince could tame Whome neyther towne could stoppe nor wall let way Nor king nor Keyser could his iorney stay His Epitaph downe set vpon his Tombe Declares no lesse I leaue it to your doome Deuicto Gallo Aucto Imperio Pontifice obsesso Italia superata Roma capta Borbonij boc marmor bahet cineres 51 Oh glorious title ringing out renowne Oh Epitaph of honor and high happe Who reades the same as it is there set downe Would thinke that Borbon sate in fortunes lappe And could not fall by chaunce of after clappe Yet he that wrote this thundring flattering verse Left out one thing which I must néedes rehearse 52 For when he had his king by warre foredone Enlargde the Empyre and besiegde the Pope Tane Rome and Italy had ouerronne Yet was he forst alwayes from lawes to lope And trudge from triall so to scape the rope Yea more than that a banisht man he serued Least loued of them whose thanks he most deserued 53 Lo lordings here a lesson for the nones Behold this glasse and sée yourselues therein This Epitaph was writte for worthy ones For Haughty harts which honor hunt to winne Beware beware what broyles you do begin For smiling lucke hath oft times Finem duram And therefore thinke possic victoria Curam 54 And yet if glory do your harts inflame Or hote desire a haughty name to haue Or if you thirst for high renowne or fame To blase such brute as time might not depraue You léese the labour that you might well saue For many a prayse in that meane while you past Which bet than warre might make your name to last 55 As first percase you skipt Phylosophie That noble skill which doth surmount the rest Wherto if you had 〈◊〉 your memorie Then bruntes of warre had neuer bruzde your brest Yet had our name bene blazde and you bene blest Aske Aristotle if I speake amis Fewe Souldiers fame can greater be than his 56 Next Rethorike that hoonnie harmelesse arte Which conquers moe than warre can well subdue You past it by and therfore loose your parte Of glories great which therevnto are due And might by right your names for aye renue Such glory loe did Cicero attaine Which longer lasts than other glories vaine 57 Of Physike speake for me king Auicen Who more estéemde the meane to saue himselfe Than lessons leude of proude ambitious men Which make debate for mucke and worldly pelfe Yet was his glory neuer set on shelfe Nor neuer shal whyles any worlde may stande Where men haue minde to take good bookes in hande 58 What shoulde I stretch into Astronomie Or maruels make of Musikes sugred sounde Or beate my braynes about Geometrie Or in Arithmetike of artes the grounde Since euermore it is and hath bene founde That who excels in any of the same Is sure to winne an euerlasting fame 59 My meaning is no more but to declare That Haughtie hartes do spende their time in vaine Which followe warres and bring themselues in snare Of sundrie ylls and many a pinching paine Whiles if they list to occupie their braine In other feates with lesser toil◠ygot They might haue fame when as they haue it not 60 Well Greedie minde is of another moode That man was framde out of some other molde He followes warres for wealth and worldlie good To fill his purse with grotes and glistring golde He hopes to buie that Haughtie harte hath solde He is as hote as any man at spoile But at a breach he kéepeth no such coyle 61 Alas good Gréedie minde and canst thou finde No better trade to fill thy boystrous baggs Is witte nowe wente so wandring from thy minde Are all thy points so voide of Reasons taggs Well so mayst thou come roysting home in raggs And lose thy time as Haughtie harte doth eke Whiles like a dolt thou wealth in warre dost seke 62 O bleareyde foole are both thine eyes beblast Canst thou not sée looke vp what man God mend thée Looke at these Lawyers howe they purchase fast Marke wel these Marchants better minde God send thee Sée howe the sutes of silke that they woulde lende thée And many mo so fine in fashion stande Till at the last they pay for vnthriftes lande 63 The Grasier gets by féeding fatte his neate The Clothier coynes by carding locks of wooll The Butcher buildes by cutting out of meate The Tanners hydes do fill his budget
leuie threatning armes Whereof to talke my heart it rendes in twaine Yet once againe I must to thee recompte The wailefull thing that is already spred Bicause I know that pitie will compell Thy tender hart more than my naturall childe With ruthfull teares to mone my mourning case Ser. My gracious Quéene as no man might surmount The constant faith I beare my souraine Lorde So doe I thinke for loue and trustie zeale No Sonne you haue doth owe you more than I For hereunto I am by dutie bounde With seruice méete no lesse to honor you Than that renoumed Prince your déere father And as my duties be most infinite So infinite must also be my loue Then if my life or spending of my bloude May be employde to doe your highnesse good Commaunde O Quéene commaund this carcasse here In spite of death to satisfie thy will So though I die yet shall my willing ghost Contentedly forsake this withered corps For ioy to thinke I neuer shewde my selfe Ingratefull once to such a worthy Quéene Ioca. Thou knowst what care my carefull father tooke In wedlockes sacred state to settle me With Laius king of this vnhappie Thebs That most vnhappie now our Citie is Thou knowst how he desirous still to searche The hidden secrets of supernall powers Vnto Diuines did make his ofte recourse Of them to learne when he should haue a sonne That in his Realme might after him succéede Of whom receiuing answere sharpe and sowre That his owne sonne should worke his wailfull ende The wretched king though all in vayne did séeke For to eschew that could not be eschewed And so forgetting lawes of natures loue No sooner had this paynfull wombe brought foorth His eldest sonne to this desired light But straight he chargde a trustie man of his To beare the childe into a desert wood And leaue it there for Tigers to deuoure Ser. O lucklesse babe begot in wofull houre Ioc. His seruant thus obedient to his hest Vp by the héeles did hang this faultlesse Impe And percing with a knife his tender féete Through both the wounds did drawe the slender twigs Which being bound about his féeble limmes Were strong inough to holde the little soule Thus did he leaue this infant scarcely borne That in short time must néedes haue lost his life If destenie that for our greater gréefes Decréede before to kéepe it still aliue Had not vnto this childe sent present helpe For so it chaunst a shepheard passing by With pitie moude did stay his giltlesse death He tooke him home and gaue him to his wife With homelie fare to féede and foster vp Now harken how the heauens haue wrought the way To Laius death and to mine owne decay Ser. Experience proues and daily is it séene In vaine too vaine man striues against the heauens Ioca. Not farre fro thence the mightie Polibus Of Corinth King did kéepe his princely court Vnto whose wofull wife lamenting muche Shée had no ofspring by hir noble phéere The curteous shepherd gaue my little sonne Which gratefull gift the Quéene did so accept As nothing séemde more precious in hir sight Partly for that his faitures were so fine Partly for that he was so beautifull And partly for bicause his comely grace Gaue great suspicion of his royall bloude The infant grewe and many yeares was demde Polibus sonne till time that Oedipus For so he named was did vnderstande That Polibus was not his sire in déede Whereby forsaking frendes and countrie there He did returne to seeke his natiue stocke And being come into Phocides lande Toke notice of the cursed oracle How first he shoulde his father doe to death And then become his mothers wedded mate Ser. O fierce aspect of cruell planets all That can decrée such seas of heynous faultes Ioca. Then Oedipus fraight full of chilling feare By all meanes sought t' auoyde this furious fate But whiles he wéende to shunne the shameful déede Vnluckly guided by his owne mishappe He fell into the snare that most he feared For loe in Phocides did Laius lye To ende the broyles that ciuill discorde then Had raysed vp in that vnquiet lande By meanes whereof my wofull Oedipus Affording ayde vnto the other side With murdring blade vnwares his father slewe Thus heauenly doome thus fate thus powers diuine Thus wicked reade of Prophets tooke effect Now onely restes to ende the bitter happe Of me of me his miserable mother Alas how colde I féele the quaking bloud Passe too and fro within my trembling brest Oedipus when this bloudy déede was doone Forst foorth by fatall doome to Thebes came Where as full soone with glory he atchieude The crowne and scepter of this noble lande By conquering Sphinx that cruell monster loe That earst destroyde this goodly flouring soyle And thus did I O hatefull thing to heare To my owne sonne become a wretched wife Ser. No meruayle though the golden Sunne withdrew His glittering beames from suche a sinfull facte Ioca. And so by him that from this belly sprang I brought to light O cursed that I am Aswell two sonnes as daughters also twaine But when this monstrous mariage was disclosde So sore began the rage of boyling wrath To swell within the furious brest of him As he him selfe by stresse of his owne nayles Out of his head did teare his griefull eyne Vnworthy more to sée the shining light Ser. How could it be that knowing he had done So foule a blot he would remayne aliue Ioca. So déepely faulteth none the which vnwares Doth fall into the crime he can not shunne And he alas vnto his greater gréefe Prolongs the date of his accursed dayes Knowing that life doth more and more increase The cruell plages of his detested gilte Where stroke of griefly death dothe set an ende Vnto the pangs of mans increasing payne Ser. Of others all moste cause haue we to mone Thy wofull smarte O miserable Quéene Such and so many are thy gréeuous harmes Ioca. Now to the ende this blinde outrageous sire Should reape no ioye of his vnnaturall fruite His wretched sons prickt foorth by furious spight Adiudge their father to perpetuall prison There buried in the depthe of dungeon darke Alas he leades his discontented life Accursing still his stony harted sonnes And wishing all th' infernall sprites of hell To breathe suche poysned hate into their brestes As eche with other fall to bloudy warres And so with pricking poynt of piercing blade To rippe their bowels out that eche of them With others bloud might strayne his giltie hands And bothe at once by stroke of spéedie death Be foorthwith throwne into the Stigian lake Ser. The mightie Gods preuent so fowle a déede Ioca. They to auoyde the wicked blasphemies And sinfull prayer of their angrie sire Agréed thus that of this noble realme Vntill the course of one ful yere was runne Eteocles should sway the kingly mace And Polynice as exul should departe Till time expyrde and then to Polynice Eteocles should yéelde the scepter
vpon the stage .vj. knights armed at al points wherof three came in by the Gates Electrae and the other three by the Gates Homoloides either parte beeing accompanied with .vij. other armed men and after they had marched twice or thrice about the Stage the one partie menacing the other by their furious lookes and gestures the .vj. knights caused their other attendants to stand by and drawing their Swords fell to cruell and couragious combate continuing therein till two on the one side were slayne The thirde perceiuing that he only remayned to withstand the force of .iij. enimies did politiquely rūne aside wherewith immediatly one of the .iij. followed after him and when he had drawen his enimie thus from his companie hee turned againe and slewe him Then the seconde also ranne after him whom he slewe in like māner and consequently the thirde and then triumphantly marched aboute the Stage wyth hys sword in his hand Hereby was noted the incomparable force of concorde betwene brethren who as long as they holde togither may not easily by any meanes be ouercome and being once disseuered by any meanes are easily ouerthrowen The history of the brethren Horatij Curiatij who agreed to like combate and came to like ende After that the dead carkasses were caried from the Stage by the armed men on both parties and that the victor was triumphantly accompanied out also came in a messanger armed from the campe seeking the Queene and to hir spake as foloweth Actus .iiij. Scena .j. NVNCIVS IOCASTA Nuncius commeth in by the gates Homoloides O Sage and sober dames O shamefast maids O faithful seruants of our aged Quéene Come leade hir forth fith vnto hir I bring Such secrete newes as are of great importe Come forth O Quéene surceasse thy wofull plaint And to my words vouchsafe a willing eare The Queene with hir traine commeth out of hir Pallace Ioca. My seruant deare doest thou yet bring me newes Of more mishappe ah werie wretch alas How doth Eteocles whom heretofore In his encreasing yeares I wonted ay From daungerous happe with fauoure to defend Doth he yet liue or hath vntimely death In cruell fight herefte his flowring life Nun. He liues O Quéene hereof haue ye no doubt From such suspecte my selfe will quit you soone Ioca. The vētrous Gréekes haue haply tane the towne Nun. The Gods forbid Ioca. Our souldiers then perchance Dispersed bene and yelden to the sword Nun. Not so they were at first in daunger sure But in the end obteined victorie Ioca. Alas what then becomes of Polynice Oh canst thou tell is he dead or aliue Nun. You haue O Quéene yet both your sonnes aliue Ioca. Oh how my harte is eased of his paine Well then procéede and briefly let me heare How ye repulst your proud presuming foes That thereby yet at least I may assuage The swelling sorrowes in my dolefull brest In that the towne is hitherto preserude And for the rest I trust that might Ioue Will yeld vs ayde Nun. No soner had your worthy valiant sonne Seuerde the Dukes into seauen seuerall partes And set them to defence of seuerall gates And brought in braue arraye his horssemen out First to encounter with their mightie foen And likewise pitcht the footemen face to face Against the footemen of their enimies But fiercely straight the armies did approche Swarming so thicke as couerde cleane the fielde When dreadfull blast of braying trumpets sounds Of dolefull drummes and thundring cannon shot Gaue hideous signe of horrour of the fight Then gan the Greekes to giue their sharpe assaulte Then from the walls our stout couragious men With rolling stones with paisse of hugie beames With flying dartes with flakes of burning fire And deadly blowes did beate them backe againe Thus striuing long with stout and bloudie fighte Whereby full many thousande slaughtered were The hardie Greeks came vnderneath the walls Of whome first Capaney a lustie Knight Did scale the walls and on the top thereof Did vaunt himselfe when many hundred moe With fierce assaultes did follow him as fast Then loe the Captaines seauen bestirrde themselues Whose names ye haue alreadie vnderstoode Some here some there nought dreading losse of life With newe reliefe to féede the fainting breach And Polynice he bended all the force Of his whole charge against the greatest gate When sodenly a flashe of lightning flame From angrie skies strake captaine Capaney That there downe dead he fell at sight whereof The gazers on were fraught with soden feare The rest that stroue to mount the walles so fast From ladders toppe did headlong tumble downe Herewith our men encouragde by good happe Toke hardy harts and so repulst the Grekes Ther was Eteocles and I with him Who setting first those souldiers to their charge Ranne streight to thother gates vnto the weake He manly comforte gaue vnto the bold His lusty words encreased courage still In so much as th' amased Grecian king When he did heare of Capaney his death Fearing thereby the Gods became his foen Out from the trench withdrewe his wearie host But rashe Eteocles presuming too too much Vppon their flight did issue out of Thebes And forwarde straight with strength of chiualrie His flying foes couragiously pursude Too long it were to make recompt of all That wounded bene or slaine or captiue now The cloudy ayre was filled round aboute With houling cries and wofull wayling plaints So great a slaughter O renowmed Quéene Before this day I thinke was neuer séene Thus haue we now cut of the fruitlesse hope The Grecians had to sacke this noble towne What ioyfull end will happen herevnto Yet know I not the gods tourne all to good To conquere lo is doubtlesse worthy praise But wisely for to vse the conquest gotte Hath euer wonne immortall sound of fame Well yet therewhile in this we may reioyce Sith heauen and heauenly powers are pleasde therewith Ioca. This good successe was luckie sure and such As for my parte I little loked for To saue the towne and eke to haue my sonnes As you report preserued yet aliue But yet procéede and further let me know The finall ende that they agréed vpon Nun. No more O quéene let this for now suffise Sith hitherto your state is safe inough Ioca. These words of tdine do whelme my iealous mind With great suspecte of other mischiefes hidde Nun. What would you more alredy being sure That both your sonnes in safetie do remaine Ioca. I long to know the rest or good or bad Nun. O let me now retourne to Eteocles That of my seruice greatly stands in néede Ioca. Right well I sée thou doest conceale the woorst Nun. Oh force me not the good now béeing past To tell the yll Ioca. Tell it I say on paine of our displeasure Nun. Since thus ye séeke to heare a dolefull tale I will no longer stay witte ye therefore Your desperate sonnes togither be agréed For to attempt a wicked enterprise To priuate fight they haue betroutht themselues
vnto the right hand taking the crownes from the kings heads she crowned therwith the ij slaues casting the vyle clothes of the slaues vpon the kings she despoyled the kings of their robes and therwith apparelled the slaues This done she was drawen eftsones about the stage in this order and then departed leauing vnto vs a plaine Type or figure of vnstable fortune who dothe oftentimes raise to heighte of dignitie the vile and vnnoble and in like manner throweth downe frō the place of promotiō euen those whō before she hir selfe had thither aduaunced after hir departure came in Duke Creon with foure gentlemen wayting vpon him and lamented the death of Meneceus his sonne in this maner Actus .iij. Scena .1 CREON. CHORVS ALas what shall I do bemone my selfe Or rue the ruine of my Natiue lande About the which such cloudes I sée enclosde As darker cannot couer dreadfull hell With mine own eyes I saw my own deare sonne All gorde with bloud of his too bloudy brest Which he hath shed full like a friend too deare To his countrey and yet a cruell foe To me that was his friend and father both Thus to him selfe he gaynde a famous name And glory great to me redoubled payne Whose haplesse death in my afflicted house Hath put suche playnt as I ne can espie What comfort might acquiet their distresse I hither come my sister for to séeke Iocasta she that might in wofull wise Amid hir high and ouer pining cares Prepare the baynes for his so wretched corps And eke for him that nowe is not in life May pay the due that to the dead pertaynes And for the honor he did well deserue To giue some giftes vnto infernall Gods. Cho. My Lorde your sister is gone forth long since Into the campe and with hir Antigone Hir daughter deare Cre. Into the campe alas and what to do Cho. She vnderstoode that for this realme foorthwith Hir sonnes were gréed in combate for to ioyne Cre. Alas the funerals of my deare sonne Dismayed me so that I ne did receiue Ne séeke to knowe these newe vnwelcome newes But loe beholde a playne apparant signe Of further feares the furious troubled lookes Of him that commeth heere so hastilye Scena 2. NVNCIVS CREON. CHORVS ALas alas what shall I doe alas What shriching voyce may serue my wofull wordes O wretched I ten thousande times a wretch The messanger of dread and cruell death Cre. Yet more mishap and what vnhappie newes Nun. My Lord your nephues both haue lost their liues Cre. Out and alas to me and to this towne Thou doest accompt great ruine and decay You royall familie of Oedipus And heare you this your liege and soueraigne Lordes The brethren both are slayne and done to death Cho. O cruell newes most cruell that can come O newes that might these stony walles prouoke For tender ruthe to brust in bitter teares And so they would had they the sense of man. Cre. O worthy yong Lordes that vnworthy were Of such vnworthy death O me moste wretch Nun. More wretched shall ye déeme your selfe my lord When you shall heare of further miserie Cre. And can there be more miserie than this Nun. With hir deare sonnes the quéene hir self is slaine Cho. Bewayle ladies alas good ladies waile This harde mischaunce this cruell common euill Ne hencefoorth hope for euer to reioyce Cre. O Iocasta miserable mother What haplesse ende thy life alas hath hent Percase the heauens purueyed had the same Moued therto by the wicked wedlocke Of Oedipus thy sonne yet might thy scuse But iustly made that knewe not of the crime But tell me messanger oh tell me yet The death of these two brethren driuen therto Not thus all onely by their drearie fate But by the banning and the bitter cursse Of their cruell sire borne for our annoy And here on earth the onely soursse of euill Nun. Then know my Lorde the battell that begonne Vnder the walles was brought to luckie ende Eteocles had made his fotemen flée Within their trenches to their foule reproche But herewithall the brethren both straightway Eche other chalenge foorth into the fielde By combate so to stinte their cruell strife Who armed thus amid the fielde appeard First Polynice turning toward Gréece His louely lookes gan Iuno thus beséeche O heauenly quéene thou séest that since the day I first did wedde Adrastus daughter deare And stayde in Gréece thy seruaunt haue I bene Then be it not for mine vnworthinesse Graunt me this grace the victorie to winne Graunt me that I with high triumphant hande May bathe this blade within my brothers brest I know I craue vnworthy victorie Vnworthy triumphes and vnworthy spoyles Lo he the cause my cruell enimie The people wept to beare the wofull wordes Of Polynice foreséeing eke the ende Of this outrage and cruell combate tane Eche man gan looke vpon his drouping mate With mindes amazed and trembling hearts for dread Whom pitie perced for these youthfull knightes Eteocles with eyes vp cast to heauen Thus sayde O mightie loue his daughter graunt to me That this right hande with this sharpe armed launce Passing amid my brothers cankred brest It may eke pierce that cowarde hart of his And so him slea that thus vnworthily Disturbes the quiet of our common weale So sayde Eteocles and trumpets blowne To sende the summons of their bloudy fighte That one the other fiercely did encounter Like Lions two yfraught with boyling wrath Bothe coucht their launces full agaynst the face But heauen it nolde that there they should them teinte Vpon the battred shields the mightie speares Are bothe ybroke and in a thousande shiuers Amid the ayre flowne vp into the heauens Beholde agayne with naked sworde in hande Eche one the other furiously assaultes Here they of Thebes there stoode the Greekes in doubt Of whom doth eche man féele more chilling dread Least any of the twayne should lose his life Than any of the twayne did féele in fight Their angry lookes their deadly daunting blowes Might witnesse well that in their heartes remaynde As cankred hate disdayne and furious moode As euer bred in beare or tygers brest The first that hapt to hurt was Polinice Who smote the righte thighe of Eteocles But as we déeme the blow was nothing déepe Then cryed the Gréekes and lepte with lightned harts But streight agayne they helde their peace for why Eteocles gan thrust his wicked sworde In the lefte arme of vnarmed Pollinice And let the bloud from bare vnfenced fleshe With falling drops distill vpon the ground Ne long he stayes but with an other thrust His brothers belly boweld with his blade Then wretched he with bridle left at large From of his horsse fell pale vpon the ground Ne long it was but downe our duke dismountes From of his startling steede and runnes in hast His brothers haplesse helme for to vnlace And with such hungry minde desired spoyle As one that thought the fielde already woonne
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.
continually now this now that now keyes now lockes ditches newe skowred and walles newlye fortified and thus alwaies vncontented liueth this wretched helhound Suspition in this hellish dungion of habitation from whence he neuer remoueth his foote but onely in the dead silent nightes when he maye be assured that all creatures but him selfe are whelmed in sound sléepe And then with stealing steps he stalketh about the earth enfecting tormenting vexing all kindes of people with some part of his afflictions but especiallye such as eyther doe sit in chayre of greatest dignity and estimation or els such as haue atchiued some déere and rare emprise Those aboue al others he continually gauleth with fresh woūds of dread least they might lose and forgo the roomes whervnto with such long trauaile and good happes they had attained and by this meanes percase he had crept into the bosom of Ferdinando who as is before declared did earst swimme in the déepest seas of earthly delightes Nowe then I must thinke it high time to retorne vnto him who being now through féeblenesse eftsones cast downe vpon his bed gan cast in his inwarde meditations all thinges passed and as one throughly puffed vp and filled with one péeuishe conceipte coulde thinke vppon nothing else and yet accusing his own guiltie conscience to be infected with ielosie dyd compile this as followeth WHat state to man so sweete and pleasaunt weare As to be tyed in linkes of worthy loue VVhat life so blist and happie might appeare As for to serue Cupid that God aboue If that our mindes were not sometimes infect VVith dread with feare with care with cold suspect VVith deepe dispaire with furious frenesie Handmaides to her whome we call ielosie For eu'ry other sop of sower chaunce VVhich louers tast amid their sweete delight Encreaseth ioye and doth their loue aduaunce In pleasures place to haue more perfect plight The thirstie mouth thinkes water hath good taste The hungrie iawes are pleas'd with eche repaste VVho hath not prou'd what dearth by warres doth growe Cannot of peace the pleasaunt plenties knowe And though with eye we see not eu'ry ioye Yet maie the minde full well support the same And absent life long led in great annoye VVhen presence comes doth turne from griefe to game To serue without reward is thought great paine But if dispaire do not therewith remaine It may be borne for right rewardes at last Followe true seruice though they come not fast Disdaines repulses finallie eche ill Eche smart eche paine of loue eche bitter tast To thinke on them gan frame the louers will To like eche ioye the more that comes at last But this infernall plague if once it tutch Or venome once the louers mind with grutch All festes and ioyes that afterwardes befall The louer comptes them light or nought at all This is that sore this is that poisoned wound The which to heale nor salue nor ointmentes serue Nor charme of wordes nor Image can be founde Nor obseruaunce of starres can it preserue Nor all the art of Magicke can preuaile VVhich Zoroactes found for our auaile Oh cruell plague aboue all sorrowes smart VVith desperate death thou sleast the louers heart And me euen now thy gall hath so enfect As all the ioyes which euer louer found And all good haps that euer Troylus sect Atchieued yet aboue the luckles ground Can neuer sweeten once my mouth with mell Nor bring my thoughtes againe in rest to dwell Of thy mad moodes and of naught else J thinke Jn such like seas faire Bradamant did sincke Ferdinando Ieronimy THus Ferdinando continued on his bedde vntyll hys bountifull Mistresse with the companye of the other courteous dames retorned after supper to his chamber At their first entrie Why how nowe seruaunt quod dame Elinor wee hoped to haue founde you one foote Mistresse quod he I haue assayed my féete since your departure but I finde them yet vnable too suport my heauy body and therefore am constrayned as you sée to acquaint my selfe with these pillowes Seruaunt sayde she I am right sory therof but since it is of necessitie to beare sicknesse I will employ my endeuoyre to allay some parte of your paynes and to refreshe your weary limbes with some comfortable matter and therewithall calling hir hande mayde deliuered vnto hir a bounch of pretie littell keyes and whispering in hir eare dispatched hir towards hir chamber The mayde taryed not long but returned with a little Casket the which hir mistresse toke opened and drewe out of the same much fine linnen amongst the which she toke a pillowebere very fine and sweete which although it were of it selfe as swéete as might be being of long time kept in that odoriferous chest yet did she with damaske water and that of the best that might be I warrant you al to sprinkle it with hir owne handes which in my conceipt might much amende the matter Then calling for a fresh pillowe sent hir mayde to ayre the same and at hir returne put on this thus perfumed pillowebéere In meane time also shée had with hir owne hands attyred hir seruaunts head in a fayre wrought kerchife taken out of the same Casket then layde him downe vppon this freshe and pleasaunt place and pretelye as it were in sporte bedewed his temples with swéete water which she had readye in a casting bottle of Golde kissing his chéeke and saying Good seruaunt be whoale for I might not long indure thus to attend thée and yet the loue that I beare towardes thée cannot be content to sée thée languishe Mistresse sayde Ferdinando and that with a trembling voice assure your selfe that if there remain in me any sparke of life or possibillity of recouery then may this excellent bounty of yours be sufficient to reuiue me without any further trauaile or paine vnto your person for whome I am highlye to blame in that I do not spare to put you vnto this trouble better it were that suche a wretch as I had died vnknown than that by your excéeding curtesie you should fall into any malladye eyther by resorting vnto me or by these your paines taken about me Seruaunt quod shee all pleasures séeme painefull to to them that take no delight therin and lykewise all toile séemeth pleasaunt to such as set their felicitie in the same but for me bee you sure I doe it with so good a wyll that I can take no hurt thereby vnlesse I shall perceyue that it be reiected or neglected as vnprofitable or vncomfortable vnto you To me Mistresse quod Fardinando it is suche pleasure as neyther my féeble tongue can expresse nor my troubled mind conceyue Why are you troubled in mind thē seruant quod dame Elynor Ferdinando now blushing answered but euen as al sick men be Mistresse Herewith they staied their talke a while and the first that brake silence was the Ladye Fraunces who sayde and to driue away the troubles of your mind good Trust I would be glad if we
verses fal into xiiij fourtene sic de similibus the which is either forgetfulnes or carelesnes 4 And in your verses remembre to place euery worde in his natural Emphasis or sound that is to say in such wise and with such length or shortnesse eleuation or depression of sillables as it is cōmonly pronounced or vsed to expresse the same we haue thrée maner of accents grauis lenis circumflexa the whiche I would english thus the long accent the short accent that whiche is indifferent the graue accent is marked by this caracte the light accent is noted thus \ the circūflexe or indifferent is thus signified ˜ the graue accent is drawē out or eleuate and maketh that sillable long whervpō it is placed the light accēt is depressed or snatched vp and maketh that sillable short vpon the which it lighteth the circumflexe accent is indifferēt sometimes short sometimes long sometimes depressed sometimes eleuate For exāple of th'emphasis or natural sound of words this word Treasure hath the graue accent vpō the first sillable whereas if it shoulde be written in this sorte Treasure nowe were the second sillable long that were cleane contrarie to the cōmon vse wherwith it is pronounced For furder explanation hereof note you that cōmonly now a dayes in english rimes for I dare not cal them English verses we vse none other order but a foote of two sillables wherof the first is depressed or made short the second is eleuate or made lōg and that sound or scāning continueth throughout the verse We haue vsed in times past other kindes of Méeters as for example this following No wight in this world that wealth can attayne Vnlesse he beleue that all is but vayne Also our father Chaucer hath vsed the same libertie in féete and measures that the Latinists do vse and who so euer do peruse and well consider his workes he shall finde that although his lines are not alwayes of one selfe same number of Syllables yet beyng redde by one that hath vnderstanding the longest verse and that which hath most Syllables in it will fall to the eare correspondent vnto that whiche hath fewest sillables in it and like wise that whiche hath in it fewest syllables shal be founde yet to consist of woordes that haue suche naturall sounde as may séeme equall in length to a verse which hath many moe sillables of lighter accentes And surely I can lament that wee are fallen into suche a playne and simple manner of wryting that there is none other foote vsed but one wherby our Poemes may iustly be called Rithmes and cannot by any right challenge the name of a Verse But since it is so let vs take the forde as we finde it and lette me set downe vnto you suche rules or precepts that euen in this playne foote of two syllables you wreste no woorde from his natural and vsuall sounde I do not meane hereby that you may vse none other wordes but of twoo sillables for therein you may vse discretion according to occasion of matter but my meaning is that all the wordes in your verse be so placed as the first sillable may sound short or be depressed the second long or eleuate the third shorte the fourth long the fifth shorte c. For example of my meaning in this point marke these two verses I vnderstand your meanyng by your eye Your meaning I vnderstand by your eye In these two verses there séemeth no difference at all since the one hath the very selfe same woordes that the other hath and yet the latter verse is neyther true nor pleasant the first verse may passe the musters The fault of the latter verse is that this worde vnderstand is therein so placed as the graue accent falleth vpō der and therby maketh der in this worde vnderstand to be eleuated which is contrarie to the naturall or vsual pronūciation for we say vnderstand and not vnderstand 5 Here by the way I thinke it not amisse to forewarne you that you thrust as few wordes of many sillables into your verse as may be and herevnto I might alledge many reasons first the most auncient English wordes are of one sillable so that the more monasyllables that you vse the truer Englishman you shall séeme and the lesse you shall smell of the Inkehorne Also wordes of many syllables do cloye a verse and make it vnpleasant whereas woordes of one syllable will more easily fall to be shorte or long as occasion requireth or wil be adapted to become circumflexe or of an indifferent sounde 6 I would exhorte you also to beware of rime without reason my meaning is hereby that your rime leade you not from your firste Inuention for many wryters when they haue layed the platforme of their inuention are yet drawen sometimes by ryme to forget it or at least to alter it as when they cannot readily finde out a worde whiche maye rime to the first and yet continue their determinate Inuention they do then eyther botche it vp with a worde that will ryme howe small reason soeuer it carie with it or els they alter their first worde and so percase decline or trouble their former Inuention But do you alwayes hold your first determined Inuention and do rather searche the bottome of your braynes for apte wordes than chaunge good reason for rumbling rime 7 To help you a little with ryme which is also a plaine yong schollers lesson worke thus whē you haue set downe your first verse take the last worde thereof and coumpt ouer all the wordes of the selfe same sounde by order of the Alphabete As for example the laste woorde of your firste line is care to ryme therwith you haue bare clare dare fare gare hare and share mare snare rare stare ware c. Of all these take that which best may serue your purpose carying reason with rime and if none of them will serue so then alter the laste worde of your former verse but yet do not willingly alter the meanyng of your Inuention 8 You may vse the same Figures or Tropes in verse which are vsed in prose and in my iudgement they serue more aptly and haue greater grace in verse than they haue in prose but yet therein remembre this old adage Ne quid nimis as many wryters which do not know the vse of any other figure than that whiche is expressed in repeticion of sundrie wordes beginning all with one letter the whiche beyng modestly vsed lendeth good grace to a verse but they do so hunte a letter to death that they make it Crambe and Crambe bis positum mors est therfore Ne quid nimis 9 Also asmuche as may be eschew straunge words or obsoleta inusitata vnlesse the Theame do giue iust occasiō marie in some places a straunge worde doth drawe attentiue reading but yet I woulde haue you therein to vse discretion 10 And asmuch as you may frame your stile to