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.
stande on Shooters hill Till rents come in to please their wicked will. Some fansies hopes by lies to come on floate As for to tell their frends and kinne great tales What wealth they lost in coyne and many a coate What powder packt in coffers and in males What they must pay and what their charge will be Wherin they meane to saue themselues a fee. Some fansies eke forecast what life to wéelde When libertie shall graunted be at last And in the aire such castles gan they builde That many times they fall againe as fast For Fansie hinders Grace from glories crowne As Tares and Byndes can plucke good graine adowne Who list therfore by Fetters frute to haue Take Fansie first out of his priuy thought And when thou hast him cast him in the waue Of Lethes lake for sure his séede is nought The gréene Knight he of whome I late did tell Mine Author sayth badde Fansie thus farewell The greene Knights farewell to Fansie FAnsie quoth he farewell whose badge I long did beare And in my hat full harebrayndly thy flowers did I weare To late I finde at last thy frutes are nothing worth Thy blossomes fall fade full fast though brauerie bring thē forth By thée I hoapt alwayes in déepe delights to dwel But since I finde thy ficklenesse Fansie quoth he farewell Thou madste me liue in loue which wisedome biddes me hate Thou bleardst mine eies madste me thinke that faith was mine by fate By thée those bitter swéetes did please my taste alway By thee I thought that loue was light and payne was but a play I thought that Bewties blase was méete to beare the bell And since I finde my selfe deceyued Fansie quoth he farewell The glosse of gorgeous courtes by thée did please mine eye A stately fight me thought it was to sée the braue go by To sée their feathers flaunte to marke their straunge deuise To lie along in Ladies lappes to lispe and make it nice To fawne and flatter both I liked sometimes well But since I see how vayne it is Fansie quoth he farewell When court had cast me off I toyled at the plowe My fansie stoode in straunge conceipts to thriue I wote not how By mils by making malte by shéepe and eke by swyne By ducke and drake by pigge and goose by calues kéeping kine By féeding bullockes fat when pryce at markets fell But since my swaines eat vp my gaines Fansie quoth he farewell In hunting of the deare my fansie tooke delight All forests knew my folly still the mooneshine was my light In frosts I felt no cold a sunneburnt hew was best I sweate and was in temper still my watching séemed rest What daungers déepe I past it follie were to tell And since I sigh to thinke thereon Fansie quoth he farewell A fansie fedde me ones to wryte in verse and rime To wray my griefe to craue reward to couer still my crime To frame a long discourse on sturring of a strawe To rumble rime in raffe and ruffe yet all not worth an hawe To heare it sayde there goeth the Man that writes so well But since I sée what Poetes bée Fansie quoth he farewell At Musickes sacred sounde my fansies eft begonne In concordes discordes notes and cliffes in tunes of vnisonne In Hyerarchies and straynes in restes in rule and space In monacordes and mouing moodes in Burdens vnder base In descants and in chants I streined many a yel But since Musicians be so madde Fansie quoth he farewell To plant straunge countrie fruites to sow such séedes likewise To digge delue for new foūd rootes where old might wel suffise To proyne the water bowes to picke the mossie trées Oh how it pleasd my fansie ones to knéele vpon my knées To griffe a pippine stocke when sappe begins to swell But since the gaynes scarce quite the cost Fansie quoth he farewell Fansie quoth he farewell which made me follow drommes Where powdred bullets serues for sauce to euery dish that cōmes Where treason lurkes in trust where Hope all hartes beguiles Where mischief lieth still in wayte when fortune friendly smiles Where one dayes prison prones that all such heauens are hell And such I féele the frutes thereof Fansie quoth he farewell If reason rule my thoughts and God vouchsafe me grace Then comfort of Philosophie shall make me chaunge my race And fonde I shall it finde that Fansie settes to showe For weakely stāds that building still which lacketh grace by low But since I must accept my fortunes as they fell I say God send me better spéede and Fansie now farewell Epilogismus SEe swéete deceipt that can it self beguile Behold selfe loue which walketh in a net And séemes vnséene yet shewes it selfe therewhile Before such eyes as are in science set The Gréene knight here leaues out his firelocke péece That Fancie hath not yet his last farewell When Foxes preach good folke beware your géese But holla here my muse to farre doth mell Who list to marke what learned preacher sayeth Must learne withall for to beleeue his lore But what he doth that toucheth nomans fayth Though words with workes agréed persuade the more The mounting kite oft lights on homely pray And wisest wittes may sometimes go astray FINIS Tam Marti quà m Mercurio The pleasant Fable of Ferdinando Ieronomi and Leonora de Valasco translated out of the Italian riding tales of Bartello IN the pleasant Countrie of Lombardie and not farre from the Citie of Florence there was dwelling sometimes a Lorde of many riche Seignories and dominions who neuerthelesse bare his name of the Castle of Valasco this Lord had one only sonne and two daughters his sonne was called during the life of his father the heyre of Valasco who maried a faire Gentlewoman of the house of Bellauista named Leonora the elder daughter of the Lord of Valasco was called Francischina a yong woman very toward bothe in capacitie and other actiue qualities Nowe the Lord of Valasco hauing already maried his sonne heyre and himselfe drawing in age was desirous to sée his daughters also bestowed before his death and especially the eldest who both for beutie and ripenesse of age might often put him in remembrance that shée was a collop of his owne fleshe and therefore sought meanes to draw vnto his house Ferdinando Ieronimi a yong gentleman of Venice who delighting more in hawking hunting and such other pastimes than he did in studie had left his owne house in Venice and was come into Lombardie to take the pleasures of the countrie So that the Lorde of Valasco knowing him to be of a very good parentage and therewithall not onely riche but adorned with sundrie good qualities was desirous as is sayd to drawe him home to his house vnder pretence of hunting and hawking to the end he might beholde his fayre daughter Francischina who both for parentage and other worldly respects might no lesse content his minde than hir beautie was likely to
The boldest Bassa then that dyd in life remaine Gan tremble at the sight hereof for priuy griefe and paine Thus when these fierce had fought from morning vntyl night Christ gaue his flocke the victory and put his foes to flight And of the Turkishe traine were eyght score Galleys tane Fiftéene sunke fiue and twenty burnt brought vnto their bane Of Christians set at large were fouretéene thousand soules Turkes twentie thousand registred in Belzebub his rolles Thus haue you nowe my Lordes the summe of all their fight And trust it all for true I tell for I was styll in sight But when the Seas were calme and skies began to cleare When foes were all or dead or fled and victors dyd appeare Then euery Christian sought amongst vs for his friende His kinsman or companion some succour them to lende And as they ransakte so loe God his wyll it was A noble wise Venetian by me dyd chaunce to passe Who gazing on my face dyd séeme to lyke me well And what my name and whence I was commaunded me to tel I now which waxed bolde as one that scaped had From déepest hell to highest heauen began for to be glad And with a liuely sprite began to plead◠my case And hid not from this worthy man myne auntient worthy race And tolde my fathers name and howe I dyd descende From Mountacutes by Mothers side nor there my tale dyd ende But furthermore I tolde my Fathers late exployte And how he left his lands goodes life to pay son Dieu son droit Nor of my selfe I craued so credited to bée For lo there were remaining yet These foure whom here you see Which all were Englishe borne and knewe I had not lyed And were my Fathers souldiors eke and sawe him how he dyed This graue Venetian who heard the famous name Of Mountacutes rehersed there which long had bene of fame In Italy and he of selfe same worthy race Gan straight with many curteous words in arms me to imbrace And kyssed me on chéeke and bad me make good chéere And thank the mighty hand of God for that which hapned there Confessing that he was him selfe a Mountacute And bare the selfe same armes that I dyd quarter in my scute And for a further proofe he shewed in his hat This token which the Mountacutes dyd beare alwaies for that They couet to be knowne from Capels where they passe For auncient grutch which lōg ago twene these two houses was Then tooke me by the hand and ledde me so aboorde His Galley where there were yféere full many a comely Lorde Of whome eyght Mountacutes dyd sitte in highest place To whome this first declared first my name and then my race Lo Lordings here quod he a babe of our owne bloods Whō Turks had tane his father slaine with losse of lands goods Sée how God fauours vs that I should find him nowe I straunge to him he straunge to mée we met I know not howe But sure when I him saw and gazed in his face Me thought he was a Mountacute I chose him by his grace Herewith he dyd rehearse my Fathers valiaunt deede For losse of whome eche Mountacute did séeme in heart to bléede They all embrast me then and straight as you may sée In comely garments trimde me vp as braue as braue may bée I was in sackcloath I nowe am I cladde in Golde And weare such roabes as I my selfe take pleasure to beholde Amongst their other giftes this token they me gaue And had me lyke a Mountacute my selfe alway behaue Nowe hearken then my Lordes I staying on the Seas In consort of these louely Lordes with comfort and with ease Determined with them in Italie to dwell And there by traine of youthfull yéeres in knowledge to excell That so I might at last réedifye the walles Which my good father had decaide by tossing fortunes balles And while they slice the Seas to their desired shore Beholde a lytle gale began encreasing more and more At last with raging blast which from Southeast dyd blowe Gan sende our sailes vpon these shores which I ful wel did know I spyed the Chalkie Clyues vpon the Kentishe coast Whereby our Lande hight Albyon as Brutus once dyd boast Which I no sooner sawe but to the rest I sayde Siate di buona voglta My Lordes be well apaide I sée by certaine signes these Tempestes haue vs cast Vpon my natiue countrey coastes with happy hap at last And if your honours please this honour me to doo In Englishe hauens to harbour you and sée our Citties too Lo London is not farre whereas my friendes would bée Right glad with fauour to requite your fauour shewed to mée Vouchsafe my Lordes quod I to stay vpon this strand And whiles your Barks be rigged new remaine with me on land Who though I bée a Boye my Father dead and slaine Yet shall you see I haue some friendes which wyll you entertaine These Noble men which are the flowre of curtesie Dyd not disdaine this my request but tooke it thankfullie And from their battered Barkes commaunded to be cast Some Gondalaes wherin vpon our pleasant streames they past Into the month of Thames thus dyd I them transport And to London at the last whereas I heard report Euen as we landed first of this twise happie day To thinke whereon I leapt for ioye as I both must and may And to these louely Lordes which are Magnificoes I dyd declare the whole discourse in order as it rose That you my Lorde who are the chiefest Mountacute And he whome Englishe Mountacutes their onely staye impute Had found the meanes this daye to match your sonne and heire In marriage with a worthy dame which is both fresh and faire And as reportes are spread of goodly quallyties A virgin trayned from hir youth in godly exercise Whose brother had like wise your daughter tane to wife And so by double lynkes enchaynde themselues in louers life These noble Mountacutes which were from Venice drouen By tempest as I tolde before wherewith they long had strouen Gan nowe giue thankes to God which so did them conuay To sée such honours of their kinne in such a happie day And straight they mée intreat whom they might wel commaund That I should come to you my Lord first them to recommaund And then this boone to craue that vnder your protection They might be bolde to enter here deuoyd of all suspection And so in friendly wise for to conselebrate This happie match solemnized according to your state Lo this is all they craue the which I can not doubt But that your Lordship soone will graunt with more if more ye mought Yea were it for no more but for the Curtesie Which as I saye they shewde to me in greate extremitye They are Venetians and though from Venice reft They come in such Venecian robes as they on seas had left And since they be your friendes and kinsmen too by
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
shortly shall sée me his lorde ▪ I aske the seate wherof I ought of right Possesse the halfe I am Oedipus sonne And yours so am I true sonne to you both Wherfore I hope that as in my defence The worlde will weygh so Ioue wil me assiste Eteocles commeth in here by the gates Electrae himself armed and before him .xx. gentlemen in armour his two pages wherof the one beareth his Target the other his helme Chor. Beholde O quéene beholde O woorthie quéene Vnwoorthie he Eteocles here cōmes So woulde the Gods that in this noble realme Shoulde neuer long vnnoble tyrant reigne Or that with wrong the right and doutlesse heire Shoulde banisht be out of his princely seate Yet thou O quéene so fyle thy sugred toung And with such counsell decke thy mothers tale That peace may both the brothers hartes inflame And rancour yelde that erst possesse the same Eteocl. Mother beholde your hestes for to obey In person nowe am I resorted hither In haste therefore fayne woulde I knowe what cause With hastie spéede so moued hath your minde To call me nowe so causelesse out of time When common wealth moste craues my onely ayde Fayne woulde I knowe what quent commoditie Perswades you thus to take a truce for tyme And yeld the gates wide open to my foe The gates that myght our stately state defende And now are made the path of our decay Ioca. Represse deare son those raging stormes of wrath That so bedimme the eyes of thine intent As when the tongue a redy Instrument Would fayne pronounce the meaning of the minde It cannot speake one honest séemely worde But when disdayne is shrunke or sette asyde And mynde of man with leysure can discourse What séemely wordes his tale may best beséeme And that the toung vnfoldes without affectes Then may procéede an answere sage and graue And euery sentence sawst with sobernesse Wherefore vnbende thine angrie browes deare childe And caste thy rolling eyes none other waye That here doest not Medusaes a face beholde But him euen him thy bloud and brother deare And thou behold my Polinices eke Thy brothers face wherein when thou mayst sée Thine owne image remember therewithall That what offence thou wouldst to him were done The blowes thereof rebounde vnto thy selfe And hereof eke I would you both forewarne When frendes or brethren kinsfolke or allies Whose hastie hearts some angrie moode had moued Be face to face by some of pitie brought Who seekes to ende their discorde and debate They onely ought consider well the cause For which they come and cast out of their minde For euermore the olde offences past So shall swéete peace driue pleading out of place Wherfore the first shall Polinices be To tell what reason first his minde did rule That thus our walles with forrein foes enclosde In sharpe reuenge of causelesse wronge receiu'd As he alledgeth by his brothers doome And of this wicked woe and dire debate Some God of pitie be the equall iudge Whome I beseeche to breath in both your breasts A yelding heart to deepe desire of peace Poli. My woorthie dame I finde that tried truthe Doth beste beseeme a simple naked tale Ne néedes to be with painted proces prickt That in hir selfe hath no diuersitie But alwayes shewes one vndisguised face Where déepe deceipt and lies must séeke the shade And wrap their wordes in guilefull eloquence As euer fraught with contrarietie So haue I often sayde and say againe That to auoide our fathers foule reproche And bitter curse I parted from this lande With right good will yet thus with him agréed That while the whirling wings of flying time Might roll one yeare aboute the heauenly spheare So long alone he might with peace possesse Our fathers seate in princely Diademe And when the yeare should eke his course renue Might I succeede to rule againe as long And that this lawe might still be kept for aye He bound him selfe by vowe of solemne othe By Gods by men by heauen and eke by earth Yet that forgot without all reuerence Vnto the Gods without respect to right Without respect that reason ought to rule His faith and troth both troden vnder foote He still vsurps most tyrantlike with wrong The right that doth of right to me belong But if he can with equall doome consent That I retourne into my natiue soyle To sway with him alike the kingly seate And euenly beare the bridle both in hand Deare mother mine I sweare by all the Gods To raise with speede the siege from these our walles And send the souldiers home from whence they came Which if he graunt me not then must I do Though loth as much as right and reason would To venge my cause that is both good and iust Yet this in heauen the Gods my records be And here in earth each mortall man may know That neuer yet my giltlesse heart did fayle Brotherly duetie to Eteocles And that causlesse he holdes me from mine owne Thus haue I said O mother euen as much As néedefull is wherein I me assure That in the iudgement both of good and badde My words may séeme of reason to procéede Constrained thus in my defence to speake Chor. None may denie O pere of princely race But that thy words are honest good and iust And such as well beséeme that tong of thine Eteo. If what to some séemes honest good and iust Could séeme euen so in euery doubtfull mind No darke debate nor quarell could arise But looke how many men so many minds And that that one man iudgeth good and iust Some other déemes as déepely to be wrong To say the truth mother this minde of mine Doth fléete full farre from that farfetch of his Ne will I longer couer my conceit If I could rule or reigne in heauen aboue And eke commaund in depth of darksome hell No toile ne trauell should my sprites abashe To take the way vnto my restlesse will To climbe aloft nor downe for to descend Then thinke you not that I can giue consent To yeld a part of my possession Wherin I liue and lead the monarchie A witlesse foole may euery man him gesse That leaues the more and takes him to the lesse With this reproch might to my name redound If he that hath with forren power spoilde Our pleasaunt fields might reaue from me perforce What so he list by force of armes demand No lesse reproofe the citizens ensewes If I for dread of Gréekish hosts should graunt That he might climbe to heigth of his desire In fine he ought not thus of me to craue Accord or peace with bloudy sword in hand But with humilitie and prayer both For often is it séene and proofe doth teach Swete words preuaile where sword and fire do faile Yet this if here within these stately walles He list to liue the sonne of Oedipus And not as king of Thebes I stand content But let him thinke since now
is the mightie quéene Of all good workes growes by experience Which is not founde with fewe dayes séeking for Ete. And were not this both sounde and wise aduise Boldly to looke our foemen in the face Before they spred our fields with hugie hoste And all the towne beset by siege at once Cre. We be but few and they in number great Ete. Our men haue yet more courage farre than they Cre. That know I not nor am I sure to say Ete. Those eyes of thine in little space shall sée How many I my selfe can bring to grounde Cre. That would I like but harde it is to doe Eto I nill penne vp our men within the walles Cre. In counsell yet the victorie consistes Ete. And wilt thou then I vse some other reade Cre. What else be still a while for hast makes wast Ete. By night I will the Cammassado giue Cre. So may you do and take the ouerthrowe Ete. The vauntage is to him that doth assaulte Cre. Yet skirmishe giuen by night is perillous Ete. Let set vpon them as they sit at meat Cre. Sodayne assaults affray the minde no doubt But we had néede to ouercome Ete. So shall we do Cre. No sure vnlesse some other counsell helpe Ete. Amid their trenches shall we them inuade Cre. As who should say were none to make defence Ete. Should I then yéeld the Citie to my foes Cre. No but aduise you well if you be wise Ete. That were thy parte that knowest more than I. Cre. Then shall I say that best doth séeme to me Ete. Yea Creon yea thy counsell holde I deare Cre. Seuen men of courage haue they chosen out Ete. A slender number for so great emprise Cre. But they them chose for guides and capitaynes Ete. To such an hoste why they may not suffise Cre. Nay to assault the seuen gates of the citie Ete. What then behoueth so bestad to done Cre. With equall number sée you do them match Ete. And then commit our men in charge to them Cre. Chusing the best and boldest blouds in Thebes Ete. And how shall I the Citie then defende Cre. Well-with the rest for one man sées not all Ete. And shall I chuse the boldest or the wisest Cre. Nay both for one without that other fayles Ete. Force without wisedome then is little worth Cre. That one must be fast to that other ioynde Ete. Creon I will thy counsell follow still For why I hold it wise and trusty both And out of hand for now I will departe That I in time the better may prouide Before occasion slip out of my hands And that I may this Polynices quell For well may I with bloudy knife him slea That comes in armes my countrie for to spoyle But if so please to fortune and to fate That other ende than I do thinke may fall To thée my frend it resteth to procure The mariage twixt my sister Antygone And thy deare sonne Haemone to whom for dowre At parting thus I promise to performe As much as late I did beheste to thée My mothers bloude and brother deare thou arte Ne néede I craue of thée to gard hir well As for my father care I not for if So chaunce I dye it may full well be sayd His bitter curses brought me to my bane Cre. The Lord defend for that vnworthy were Ete. Of Thebes towne the rule and scepter loe I néede nor ought it otherwise dispose Than vnto thée if I dye without heyre Yet longs my lingring mynde to vnderstand The doubtfull ende of this vnhappie warre Wherfore I will thou send thy sonne to seke Tyresias the deuine and learne of him For at my call I knowe he will not come That often haue his artes and him reprovde Cre. As you commaund so ought I to performe Ete. And last I thée and citie both commaund If fortune frendly fauour our attemptes And make our men triumphant victors all That none there be so hardie ne so bolde For Polynices bones to giue a graue And who presumes to breake my beste herein Shall dye the death in penaunce of his paine For though I were by bloud to him conioynde I paâ—t it now and iustice goeth with me To guide my steppes victoriously before Pray you to Ioue he deigne for to defende Our Citie safe both now and euermore Cre. Gramercie worthie prince for all thy loue And faithfull trust thou doest in me repose And if should hap that I hope neuer shall I promise yet to doe what best behoues But chieflie this I sweare and make a vowe For Polynices nowe our cruell foe To holde the hest that thou doest me commaunde Creon attendeth Eteocles to the gates Electrae he returneth and goeth out by the gates called Homoloydes CHORVS O Fierce and furious Mars whose harmefull harte Reioyceth most to shed the giltlesse blood Whose headie wil doth all the world subuert And doth enuie the pleasant mery moode Of our estate that erst in quiet stoode Why doest thou thus our harmelesse towne annoye Which mightie Bacchus gouerned in ioye Father of warre and death that dost remoue With wrathfull wrecke from wofull mothers breast The trustie pledges of their tender loue So graunt the Gods that for our finall rest Dame Venus pleasant lookes may please thée best Wherby when thou shalt all amazed stand The sword may fall out of thy trembling hand And thou maist proue some other way full well The bloudie prowesse of thy mightie speare Wherwith thou raisest from the depth of hell The wrathfull sprites of all the furies there Who when the weake doe wander euery where And neuer rest to range about the coastes Tenriche that pit with spoile of damned ghostes And when thou hast our fieldes forsaken thus Let cruell discorde beare thée companie Engirt with snakes and serpents venemous Euen she that can with red virmilion dye The gladsome gréene that florisht pleasantly And make the gréedie ground a drinking cup To sup the bloud of murdered bodyes vp Yet thou returne O ioye and pleasant peace From whence thou didst against our wil depart Ne let thy worthie minde from trauell cease To chase disdaine out of the poysned harte That raised warre to all our paynes and smarte Euen from the brest of Oedipus his sonne Whose swelling pride hath all this iarre begonne And thou great God that doest all things decrée And sitst on highe aboue the starrie skies Thou chiefest cause of causes all that bée Regard not his offence but heare our cries And spedily redresse our miseries For what cause we poore wofull wretches doe But craue thy aide and onely cleaue therto Finis Actus secundi Done by G. Gascoygne The order of the thirde dumbe shevve BEfore the beginning of this .iij. Act did sound a very dolefull noise of cornettes during the which there opened and appeared in the stage a great Gulfe Immediatly came in .vj. gentlemeÌ„ in their dublets hose bringing vpon their shulders baskets full of earth and threwe them
into the Gulfe to fill it vp but it would not so close vp nor be filled Then came the ladyes and dames that stoode by throwing in their cheynes Iewels so to cause it stoppe vp and close it selfe but when it would not so be filled came in a knighte with his sword drawen armed at all poyntes who walking twise or thrise about it perusing it seing that it would nether be filled with earth nor with their Iewells and ornaments after solempne reuerence done to the gods and curteous leaue taken of the Ladyes and standers by sodeinly lepte into the Gulfe the which did close vp immediatly betokning vnto vs the loue that euery worthy person oweth vnto his natiue coūtrie by the historye of Curtins who for the lyke cause aduentured the like in Rome This done blinde Tyresias the deuine prophete led in by hys daughter and conducted by Meneceus the son of Creon entreth by the gates Electrae and sayth as followeth Actus iij. Scena 1. TYRESIAS CREON. MANTO MENECEVS SACERDOS THou trustie guide of my so trustlesse steppes Déer daughter mine go we lead thou the way For since the day I first did léese this light Thou only art the light of these mine eyes And for thou knowst I am both old weake And euer longing after louely rest Direct my steppes amyd the playnest pathes That so my febled féete may féele lesse paine Meneceus thou gentle childe tell me Is it farre hence the place where we must goe Where as thy father for my comming stayes For like vnto the slouthfull snayle I drawe Deare sonne with paine these aged legges of mine Creon returneth by the gates Homoloydes And though my minde be quicke scarce can I moue Cre. Comfort thy selfe deuine Creon thy frend Loe standeth here and came to méete with thée To ease the paine that thou mightst else sustaine For vnto elde eche trauell yeldes annoy And thou his daughter and his faithfull guide Loe rest him here and rest thou there withall Thy virgins hands that in sustayning him Doest well acquite the duetie of a childe For crooked age and hory siluer heares Still craueth helpe of lustie youthfull yeares Tyr. Gramercie Lorde what is your noble will Cre. What I would haue of thée Tyresias Is not a thing so soone for to be sayde But rest a whyle thy weake and weary limmes And take some breath now after wearie walke And tell I pray thée what this crowne doth meane That sits so kingly on thy skilfull heade Tyr. Know this that for I did with graue aduise Foretell the Citizens of Athens towne How they might best with losse of litle bloude Haue victories against their enimies Hath bene the cause why I doe weare this Crowne As right rewarde and not vnméete for me Cre. So take I then this thy victorious crowne For our auaile in token of good lucke That knowest how the discord and debate Which late is fallen betwene these brethren twaine Hath brought all Thebes in daunger and in dreade Eteocles our king with threatning armes Is gone against his greekish enimies Commaunding me to learne of thée who arte A true diuine of things that be to come What were for vs the safest to be done From perill now our countrey to preserue Tyr. Long haue I bene within the towne of Thebes Since that I tyed this trustie toung of mine From telling truth fearing Eteocles Yet since thou doest in so great néede desire I should reueale things hidden vnto thée For common cause of this our common weale I stand content to pleasure thée herein But first that to this mightie God of yours There might some worthie sacrifice be made Let kill the fairest goate that is in Thebes Within whose bowelles when the Préest shall loke And tell to me what he hath there espyed I trust t' aduise thée what is best to doen. Cre. Lo here the temple and ere long I looke To sée the holy préest that hither cōmes Bringing with him the pure and faire offrings Which thou requirest for not long since I sent For him as one that am not ignorant Of all your rytes and sacred ceremonyes He went to choose amid our herd of goates The fattest there and loke where now he commes Sacerdos accompanyed with .xvj. Bacchanales and all his rytes and ceremonies entreth by the gates Homoloydes Sacer. O famous Citizens that holde full deare Your quiet country Loe where I doe come Most ioyfully with wonted sacrifice So to beséeche the supreme Citizens To stay our state that staggringly doth stand And plant vs peace where warre and discord growes Wherfore with hart deuoute and humble chéere Whiles I breake vp the bowels of this beast That oft thy veneyarde Bacchus hath destroyed Let euery wight craue pardon for his faults With bending knee about his aultars here Tyr. Take here the salt and sprincle therwithall About the necke that done cast all the rest Into the sacred fire and then annoynte The knife prepared for the sacrifice O mightie Ioue preserue the precious gifte That thou me gaue when first thine angrie Quéene For deepe disdayne did both mine eyes do out Graunt me I may foretell the truth in this For but by thée I know that I ne may Ne wil ne can one trustie sentence say Sa. This due is done Tyr. With knife then stick the kid Sac. Thou daughter of deuine Tyresias With those vnspotted virgins hands of thine Receiue the bloude within this vessell here And then deuoutly it to Bacchus yelde Man. O holy God of Thebes that doest both praise Swete peace and doest in hart also disdayne The noysome noyse the furies and the fight Of bloudie Mars and of Bellona both O thou the giuer both of ioy and health Receiue in grée and with well willing hand These holy whole brunt offrings vnto thée And as this towne doth wholy thée a dore So by thy helpe do graunt that it may stand Safe from the enimies outrage euermore Sac. Now in thy sacred name I bowell here This sacrifice Tyre And what entralls hath it Sac. Faire and welformed all in euery poynt The liuer cleane the hart is not infect Saue loe I finde but onely one hart string By which I finde something I wote nere what That séemes corrupt and were not onely that In all the rest they are both sound and hole Tyr. Now cast at once into the holy flame The swete incense and then aduertise mée What hew it beares and euery other ryte That ought may helpe the truth for to coniecte Sac. I sée the flames doe sundrie coulours cast Now bloudy sanguine straight way purple blew Some partes séeme blacke some gray and some be gréene Tyr. Stay there suffyseth this for to haue séene Know Creon that these outward séemely signes By that the Gods haue let me vnderstand Who know the truth of euery secrete thing Betoken that the Citie great of Thebes Shall Victor be against the Gréekish host If so consent be giuen but more
than this I lyst not say Cre. Alas for curtesie Say on Tyresias neuer haue respect To any liuing man but tell the truth Sacerdos returneth with the Bacchanales by the gates Homoloides Sac. In this meane while I will returne with spéede From whence I came for lawfull is it not That suche as I should heare your secresies Tyr. Contrary then to that which I haue sayde The incest foule and childbirth monstruous Of Iocasta so stirres the wrath of Ioue This citie shall with bloudy channels swimme And angry Mars shall ouercome it all With famine flame rape murther dole and death These lustie towres shall haue a headlong fall These houses burnde and all the rest be razde And soone be sayde here whilome Thebes stoode One onely way I finde for to escape Which bothe would thée displease to heare it tolde And me to tell percase were perillous Thée therfore with my trauell I commende To Ioue and with the rest I will endure What so shall chaunce for our aduersitie Cre. Yet stay a whyle Tyr. Creon make me not stay By force Cre. Why fléest thou Tyr. Syr t is not from thée I flée but from this fortune foule and fell Cre. Yet tell me what behoues the citie doe Tyr. Thou Creon séemest now desirous still It to preserue but if as well as I Thou knewest that which is to thée vnknowne Then wouldst thou not so soone consent thereto Cre. And would not I with eagre minde desire The thing that may for Thebes ought auayle Tyr. And dost thou then so instantly request To know which way thou mayest the same preserue Cre. For nothing else I sent my sonne of late To séeke for thée Tyr. Then will I satisfie Thy gréedie minde in this but first tell me Menetius where is he Cre. Not farre from me Tyr. I pray thée sende him out some other where Cre. Why wouldest thou that he should not be here Tyr. I would not haue him heare what I should say Cre. He is my sonne ne will he it reueale Tyr. And shall I then while he is present speake Cre. Yea be thou sure that he no lesse than I Doth wishe full well vnto this common weale Tyr. Then Creon shalt thou knowe the meane to saue This Citie is that thou shalt flea thy sonne And of his bodie make a sacrifice For his countrey lo héere is all you séeke So much to knowe and since you haue me forst To tell the thing that I would not haue tolde If I haue you offended with my words Blame then your selfe and eke your frowarde fate Cre. Oh cruel words oh oh what hast thou sayde Thou cruell sothsayer Tyr. Euen that that heauen Hath ordeined once and néedes it must ensue Cre. How many euils hast thou knit vp in one Tyr. Though euill for thée yet for thy countrey good Cre. And let my countrey perishe what care I Tyr. Aboue all things we ought to holde it deare Cre Cruell were he that would not loue his childe Tyr. For coÌ„moÌ„ weale were well that one man waile Cre. To loose mine owne I liste none other saue Tyr. Best Citizens care least for priuat gayne Cre. Depart for nowe with all thy prophecies Tyr. Lo thus the truth doth alwayes hatred get Cre. Yet pray I thée by these thy siluer heares Tyr. The harme that coÌ„mes from heauen can not be scapt Cre. And by thy holy spirite of prophecie Tyr. What heauen hath done that cannot I vndoe Cre. That to no moe this secrete thou reueale Tyr. And wouldst thou haue me learne to make a lye Cre. I pray thée hold thy peace Tyr. That will I not But in thy woe to yéelde thée some reliefe I tell thée once thou shalt be Lorde of Thebes Which happe of thine this string did well declare Which from the heart doth out alonely growe So did the péece corrupted playnly shewe An argument most euident to proue Thy sonne his death Cre. Well yet be thou content To kéepe full close this secrete hidden griefe Tyr. I neither ought ne will kéepe it so close Cre. Shall I be then the murtherer of mine owne Tyr. Ne blame not me but blame the starres for this Cre. Can heauens condemne but him alone to dye Tyr. We ought beléeue the cause is good and iust Cre. Vniust is he condemnes the innocent Tyr. A foole is he accuseth heauens of wrongs Cre. There can no ill thing come from heaueÌ„s aboue Tyr. Then this that heauen commaunds can not be ill Cre. I not beléeue that thou hast talkt with God. Tyr. Bicause I tell thée that doth thée displease Cre. Out of my sight accursed lying wretch Tyr. Go daughter go oh what foole is he That puts in vre to publish prophecies For if he do fore tell a froward fate Though it be true yet shall he purchase hate And if he silence kéepe or hide the truth The heauy wrath of mightie Gods ensuth Appollo he might well tell things to come That had no dread the angry to offende But hye we daughter hence some other way Tyresias with Manto his daughter returneth by the gates called Electrae Scena 2. CREON. MENECEVS OH my deare childe well hast thou heard with eare These wéery newes or rather wicked tales That this deuine of thée deuined hath Yet will thy father neuer be thy foe With cruell doome thy death for to consent Me. You rather ought O father to consent Vnto my death since that my death may bring Vnto this towne both peace and victorie Ne can I purchase more prayse worthy death Than for my countries wealth to lose my breath Cre. I cannot prayse this witlesse will of thine Me. You know deare father that this life of ours Is brittle short and nothing else in déede But tedious toyle and pangs of endlesse payne And death whose darte to some men séemes so fell Brings quiet ende to this vnquiet life Vnto which ende who soonest doth arriue Fiâ—â—s soonest rest of all his restlesse griefe And were it so that here on earth we felte No pricke of paine nor that our flattring dayes Were neuer dasht by froward fortunes frowne Yet béeing borne as all men are to dye Were not this worthy glory and renowne To yéelde the countrey soyle where I was borne For so long time so shorte a time as mine I can not thinke that this can be denied Then if to shunne this haughtie high behest Mine onely cause O father doth you moue Be sure you séeke to take from me your sonne The greatest honor that I can attayne But if your owne commoditie you moue So much the lesse you ought the same allowe For looke how much the more you haue in Thebes So much the more you ought to loue the same Here haue you Hemone he that in my steade O my deare father may with you remaine So that although you be depriued of me Yet shall you not be quite depriued of heires Cre. I can not chuse deare sonne but disalowe This
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
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
That at vnwares his brothers dagger drawne And griped fast within the dying hand Vnder his side he recklesse doth receiue That made the way to his wyde open hart Thus falles Eteocles his brother by From both whose breasts the bloud fast bubling gaue A sory shewe to Greekes and Thebanes both Cho. Oh wretched ende of our vnhappie Lordes Cre. Oh Oedipus I must bewaile the death Of thy deare sonnes that were my nephewes both But of these blowes thou oughtest féele the smarte That with thy wonted prayers thus hast brought Such noble blouds to this vnnoble end But now tell on what followed of the Quéene Nun. Whē thus with piecced harts by their owne hands The brothers fell and wallowed in their bloud That one still tumbling on the others gore Came their afflicted mother then to late And eke with hir chast childe Antygone Who saw no sooner how their fates had falne But with the doubled echo of alas She dymmde the ayre with loude complaints and cryes Oh sonnes quod she too late came all my helpe And all to late haue I my succour sent And with these wordes vpon their carcas colde She shriched so as might haue stayed the Sunne To mourne with hir the wofull sister eke That both hir chekes did bathe in flowing teares Out from the depth of hir tormented brest With scalding sighes gan draw thefe weary words O my deare brethren why abandon ye Our mother deare when these hir aged yeares That of themselues are weake and growne with griefe Stoode most in neede of your sustaining helpe Why doe you leaue hir thus disconsolate At sounde of such hir wéeping long lament Eteocles our king helde vp his hand And sent from bottome of his wofull brest A doubled sighe deuided with his griefe In faithfull token of his feeble will To recomfort his mother and sister both And in steade of swéete contenting words The trickling teares raynde downe his paled chekes Then claspt his hands and shut his dying eyes But Polynice that turned his rolling eyen Vnto his mother and his sister deare With hollow voyce and fumbling toung thus spake Mother you see how I am now arryued Vnto the heauen of mine vnhappie ende Now nothing doth remaine to me but this That I lament my sisters life and yours Left thus in euerlasting woe and griefe So am I sory for Eteocles Who though he were my cruell enimie He was your sonne and brother yet to me But since these ghostes of ours must néedes go downe With staggring steppes into the Stigian reigne I you besech mother and sister bothe Of pitie yet that you will me procure A royall tombe within my natiue realme And now shut vp with those your tender bandes These grieffull eyes of mine whose dazeled light Shadowes of dreadfull death be come to close Now rest in peace this sayde he yéelded vp His fainting ghost that ready was to part The mother thus beholding both hir sonnes Ydone to death and ouercome with dole Drewe out the dagger of hir Pollinice From brothers brest and gorde therewyth her throt◠Falling bet wéene hir sonnes Then with hir féebled armes she doth vnfolde Their bodies both as if for company Hir vncontented corps were yet content To passe with them in Charons ferrie boate When cruell fate had thus with force bereft The wofull mother and hir two deare sonnes All sodenly allarme allarme they crye And hote conflict began for to aryse Betwene our armie and our enemyes For either part would haue the victorye A while they did with equall force maintaine The bloudy fight at last the Gréekes do flie Of whom could hardly any one escape For in such hugie heapes our men them slew The ground was couerde all with carcases And of our souldiers some gan spoyle the dead Some other were that parted out the pray And some pursuing Antigone toke vp The Queene Iocasta and the brethren both Whom in a chariot hither they will bring Ere long and thus although we gotten haue The victory ouer our enemies Yet haue we lost much more than we haue wonne Creon exit Cho. O hard mishap we doe not onely heare The wearie newes of their vntimely death But eke we must with wayling eyes beholde Their bodies deade for loke where they be brought Scena 3. ANTIGONE CHORVS MOst bitter plaint O ladyes vs behoues Behoueth eke not onely bitter plainte But that our heares dysheuylde from our heades About our shoulders hang and that our brests With bouncing blowes be all be battered Our gastly faces with our nayles defaced Behold your Quéene twixt both hir sonnes lyes slayne The Quéene whom you did loue and honour both The Quéene that did so tenderly bring vp And nourishe you eche one like to hir owne Now hath she left you all O cruell hap With hir too cruell death in dying dreade Pyning with pensifenesse without all helpe O weary life why bydste thou in my breast And I contented be that these mine eyes Should sée hir dye that gaue to me this life And I not venge hir death by losse of life Who can me giue a fountaine made of mone That I may weepe as muche as is my will To sowsse this sorow vp in swelling teares Cho. What stony hart could leaue for to lament Anti. O Polinice now hast thou with thy bloud Bought all too deare the title to this realme That cruell he Eteocles thée refte And now also hath rest thée of thy life Alas what wicked dede can wrath not doe And out alas for mee Whyle thou yet liuedst I had a liuely hope To haue some noble wight to be my phéere By whome I might be crownde a royall Quéene But now thy hastie death hath done to dye This dying hope of mine that hope hencefoorth None other wedlocke but tormenting woe If so these trembling hands for cowarde dread Dare not presume to ende this wretched life Cho. Alas deare dame let not thy raging griefe Heape one mishap vpon anothers head Anti. O dolefull day wherein my sory sire Was borne and yet O more vnhappie houre When he was crowned king of stately Thebes The Hymenei in vnhappie bed And wicked wedlocke wittingly did ioyne The giltlesse mother with hir giltie sonne Out of which roote we be the braunches borne To beare the scourge of their so foule offence And thou O father thou that for this facte Haste torne thine eyes from thy tormented head Giue eare to this come foorth and bende thine eare To bloudie newes that canst not them beholde Happie in that for if thine eyes could sée Thy sonnes bothe slayne and euen betwéene them bothe Thy wife and mother dead bathed and imbrude All in one bloud then wouldst thou dye for dole And so might ende all our vnluckie stocke But most vnhappie nowe that lacke of sighte Shall linger life within thy lucklesse brest And still tormented in suche miserie Shall alwayes dye bicause thou canst not dye Oedipus entreth Scena 4. OEDIPVS ANTIGONE CHORVS WHy dost thou
towardes the ground toke good aduisement in his aunswere when a fayre gentlewoman of the company clapped him on the shoulder saying how now sir is your hand on your halfpeny To whome he aunswered no fayre Lady my hand is on my harte and yet my hart is not in myne owne hands wherewithall abashed turning towards dame Elinor he sayde My souereigne and Mistresse according to the charge of your command and the dutie that I owe you my tongue shall bewraye vnto you the truthe of mine intent At this present a rewarde giuen me without desert doth so reioyce mée with continuall remembraunce that though my minde be so occupied to thinke thereon as that daye nor night I can bée quiet from that thought yet the ioye and pleasure whiche I conceiue in the same is such that I can neyther be cloyed with continuaunce thereof nor yet afraide that any mishappe can counteruayle so greate a treasure This is to me suche a heauen to dwell in as that I féede by day and repose by night vppon the freshe recorde of this reward This as Bartello sayeth he ment by the kisse that she lent him in the Gallery and by the profession of hir laste letters and woordes Well though this aunswere bee somewhat mistie yet let his excuse be that taken vppon the sodaine he thought better to aunswere darkly than to be mistrusted openly Hir second question was what thing in this life did moste gréeue his harte and disquiet his minde whervnto he answered That although his late rehersed ioy were incomparable yet the greatest enimie that disturbed the same was the priuie worme of his owne giltie conscience which accused him euermore with great vnworthinesse and that this was his greatest griefe The Lady biting vpon the bitte at his cunning answeres made vnto these two questions ganne thus replie Seruaunt I had thought to haue touched you yet nearer with my thirde question but I will refrayne to attempt your pacience and nowe for my third demaund aunswere me directly in what manner this passion doth handle you and howe these contraries may hang together by any possibilitie of concorde for your woordes are straunge Ferdinando now rousing himselfe boldly tooke occasion thus to handle his aunswere Mistresse quod he my woordes in déede are straunge but yet my passion is muche straunger and thervpon this other day to conteÌ„t mine owne fantasie I deuised a Sonet which although it bée a péece of Cocklorels musicke and suche as I might be ashamed to publish in this company yet bicause my truth in this answere may the better appeare vnto you I pray you vouchsafe to receiue the same in writing and drawing a paper out of his pocket presented it to hir wherin was written this Sonet LOue hope and death do stirre in me such strife As neuer man but I led such a life First burning loue doth wound my hart to death And when death comes at call of inward griefe Colde lingering hope doth feede my fainting breath Against my will and yeeldes my wound reliefe So that I liue but yet my life is such As death would neuer greue me halfe so much No comfort then but only this I tast To salue such sore such hope will neuer want And with such hope such life will euer last And with such life such sorrowes are not skant Oh straunge desire O life with torments tost Through too much hope mine onely hope is lost Euen HE F.I. THis sonet was highly commended and in my iudgement it deserueth no lesse His dutie thus perfourmed their pastimes ended and at their departure for a watch worde hée couÌ„selled his Mistresse by little and little to walke abrode saying that the Gallery neare adioyning was so pleasaunt as if he were halfe dead he thought that by walking therin hée might be halfe more reuiued Think you so seruaunt quod she and the last tyme that I walked there I suppose I toke the cause of my malady but by your aduise for that you haue so clerkly steynched my bléeding I will assay to walke there to morow Mistres quod he and in more ful accomplishment of my duetie towards you and in sure hope that you will vse the same onelie to your owne priuate commoditie I will there awaite vpon you and betwene you and me wil teach you the ful order how to steynch the bléeding of any creature wherby you shal be as cuÌ„ning as my self Gramercy good seruant quod she I thinke you lost the same in writing here yesterday but I caÌ„not vnderstand it therfore to morrow if I féele my self any thing ameÌ„ded I wil sende for you thither to enstruct me throughly thus they departed And at supper time the Lord of Valasco finding fault that his gestes stomacke serued him no better began too accuse the grosnesse of his vyands to whom one of the geÌ„tlewomen which had passed the afternoone in his company answered Nay sir quod she this gentleman hath a passion the which once in a day at the least doth kill his appetite Are you so well acquainted with the dispositioÌ„ of his body quod the Lord of the house by his owne saying quod she not otherwise Fayre ladie quod FerdinaÌ„do you either mistoke me or ouerheard me theÌ„ for I told of a coÌ„fortable humor which so fed me with coÌ„tinuall remeÌ„braÌ„ce of ioy as that my stomack being ful therof doth desire in maner none other vittayles Why sir quod the host do you theÌ„â—iue by loue God forbid sir quod Ferdinando for then my cheekes wold be much thinner thaÌ„ they be but there are diuers other greater causes of ioy than the doubtful lots of loue for mine own part to be playn I caÌ„not loue I dare not hate I would I thought so quod the gentlewoman And thus with prety nyppes they passed ouer their supper which ended the Lord of the house required Ferdinando Ieronimi to daunce and passe the time with the gentlewomen which he refused not to doe But sodenly before the musicke was well tuned came out Dame Elynor in hir night attyre and said to the Lord the supposing the solitarinesse of hir chamber had encreased hir maladie she came out for hir better recreatioÌ„ to sée them daunce Well done daughter quod the Lorde And I Mistres quod Ferdinando would gladly bestowe the leading of you about this great chamber to driue away the faintnesse of your feuer No good seruaunt quod the Lady but in my stéede I pray you daunce with this fayre Gentlewoman pointing him too the Lady that had so taken him vp at supper Ferdinando to auoyd mistrust did agrée too hir request without furder entreaty The daunce begon this Knight marched on with the Image of S. Frances in his hand and S. Elynor in his hart The violands at end of the pauion staied a whyle in whiche time this Dame sayde to Ferdinando Ieronimi on this wise I am right sory for you in two respects although the familiarity haue hytherto had
vnder him than to descant any longer vpon Ferdinandoes playne song and thus they continued in good accord vntill it fortuned that Dame Fraunces came into her chamber vpon such sodaine as she had like to haue marred all the musicke well they conueyed their clifes as closely as they could but yet not altogither without some suspicion giuen to the sayd dame Fraunces who although she could haue bene cōtent to take any paine in Ieronimies behalfe yet otherwise she could neuer haue bestowed the watching about so worthelesse a pryse After womanly salutations they fell into sundrye discourses the Secretary stil abiding in the chamber with them At last two or thrée other gentlewomen of the Castle came into Madam Elinores chamber who after their Bon iour did all vna voce séeme to lament the sikenes of Ferdinando and called vppon the Dames Elynor and Fraunces to goe visite him againe The Lady Fraunces curteously consented but Madame Elynor first alledged that she her selfe was also sickly the which she attributed to hir late paynes taken about him and sayd that onely for that cause she was constrayned to kepe hir bed longer than hir accustomed hower The Dames but specially the Lady Fraunces gan streight wayes coniecture some great cause of sodaine chaūge and so leauing dame Elinor walked altogether into the parke to take the ayre in the morning And as they thus walked it chaūced that Dame Pergo heard a Cuckoe chaunt who because the pride of the spring was now past cried Cuck cuck Cuckoe in hir stamering voyce A ha quod Pergo this foule byrd begines to flye the countrye and yet before hir departure sée how spitfully she can deuyse to salute vs Not so quod Dame Fraunces but some other whom she hath espyed wherewith Dame Pergo looking round about hir and espying none other companie sayde Why here is no body but we few women qd she Thanks be to God the house is not farre from vs quod Dame Fraunces Here at the wylie Pergo partly perceyuing Dame Fraunces meaning replyed on this sort I vnderstand you not quod she but to leap out of this matter shall wée goe visit Maister Ieronimy and see how he doth this morning Why quod dame Fraunces do you suppose that the Cuckoe called vnto him Nay mary quod Pergo for as fare as I knowe he is not maried As who should say quod Dame Fraunces that the Cuckoe enuieth none but maryed folkes I take it so sayd Pergo the Lady Frances answered Yes sure I haue noated as euill lucke in loue after the Cuckoes call to haue hapned vnto diuers vnmaried folkes as euer I did vnto the maryed but I can be well content that we go vnto him for I promised on the behalfe of vs al that we would vse our best deuoyre to recomfort him vntill he had recouered helth and I do much meruayle that the Lady Elinor is now become so vnwilling to take any trauayle in his behalfe especially remembring that but yesternight she was so diligent to bring him to bed But I perceiue that all earthly thinges are subiect vnto change Euen so they be quod Pergo for you maye behold the trées which but euen this other daye were clad in gladsome gréene and nowe their leaues begin to fade and change collour Thus they passed talkeing and walking vntill they returned vnto the Castle whereas they went strayght vnto Ferdinandoes chamber and found him in bed Why how now Trust quod Dame Fraunces will it be no better Yes shortly I hope quod he The Ladyes all saluted him and he gaue them the gra-mercy at the last Pergo popped this question vnto him And howe haue you slept in your Mistres shetes Mayster Ieronemy quod she reasonably well quod he but I pray you where is my mistresse this morning Mary sayd Pergo we left hir in bed scarce well at ease I am the more sorye quod he Why Trust sayd Mistresse Fraunces be of good comfort assure your selfe that here are others who would be as glad of your wel doing as your mistres in any respect I ought not to doubt there of quod Ferdinādo hauing the profe that I haue had of your great courtesies but I thought it my dutye to aske for my mistresse being absent Thus they passed some time with him vntill they were called awaye vnto prayers and that being finished they went to dinner where they met Dame Elynor attired in an night kerchiefe after the soolenest the solempnest fashion I should haue said who loked very drowsely vpon all folkes vnlesse it were hir secretary vnto whom she deigned somtime to lend a frendly glaunce The Lord of the Castle demaunded of hir how master Ieronemy did this morning She answered that she knew not for she had not sene him that day You may do wel then daughter quod the Lord to go now vnto him and to assay if he will eate any thing and if here be no meates that like him I praye you commaunde for him anye thing that is in my house You must pardon me sir quod she I am sickely disposed and would be loth to take the ayre why then go you mistres Fraunces quod he and take some body with you and I charge you sée that he lacke nothing Mistres Fraunces was glad of the ambassege and arysing from the table with one other gentleman tooke with hir a dish of chikins boiled in white broth saying to hir father I think this meat méetest for mayster Ieronimy Of any that is here It is so quod he daughter and if he like not that cause some what els to be dressed for him according to his apetite Thus she departed and came to Ferdinando who being plonged in sundry woes and thrilled with restlesse thoughtes was nowe beginning to rise But seing the Dames couched down agayne and sayd vnto them Alas fayre Ladyes you put your selues to more paynes than eyther I do desire or can deserue Good Trust quod Dame Fraunces our paynes are no greater than duty requireth nor yet so great as we could vouchsafee in your behalfe And presently my father hath sent vs vnto you quod she with this pittaunce and if your apetite desire any on thing more than other we are to desire likewise that you will not refrayne to call for it Oh my good Hope quod he I perceiue that I shall not dye as long as you maye make me liue And being nowe some deale recomforted with the remembraunce of his mistres words which she hadde vsed ouer night at hir first comming and also thinkinge that although shee parted in choller it was but iustlye prouoked by him selfe and that at leasure hee shoulde finde some salue for that sore also hée determined to take the comforte of his assured Hope and so to expell all venomnes of mistrust before receiued Wherfor raising him selfe in his bed hee cast a night gowne about his shoulders saying It shall neuer be sayd that my fainting hart can reiect the comfortable Cordialles