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ID Title Author Corrected Date of Publication (TCP Date of Publication) STC Words Pages
A07329 The tragedy of Antigone, the Theban princesse. Written by T.M. May, Thomas, 1595-1650. 1631 (1631) STC 17716; ESTC S122116 25,669 72

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still and made Your vertuous minde the way to your offence As if the Gods themselues had punish'd you For striuing to be innocent when they Had-fore decree'd your guilt take comfort Sir No man offends but where the will consents Oed. How well canst thou Antigone that bear'st A Magazen of vertuous thoughts within thee Speake words of comfort but accursed I Am most vncapable there 's nought in me But horrour greife despaire and misery Shew me some way of death or let me goe Anti. I cannot leaue you Sir nor shew your death But where I meane to beare you company Oed. I neuer should haue had a vertuous childe But to afflict me more nature will worke A miracle to make my sufferings greater The Sunne shall bring blacke night the Euening starre Vsher the day and seas shall meete the sky To make addition to my misery Anti. good Sir goe take some rest doe not destroy That life on which another life depends Oed. There 's none but thou has a commanding power Ore Oedipus if thou command me leape Into Sicilian Aetna's scalding throate I 'll gladly doo 't if thou wilt haue it so I will like Titius with my liuer feede A tiring vultur more I will take rest Nay most of all I le liue at thy request Anti. I see some signes of rest vpon him now Exeunt Scena secunda Aemon Aemon How well this sad and solitary place Suites with my thoughts these vnfrequented woods Where nature voide of artificiall robes Presents her naked and vngarnish'd face In such abodes as these dwelt piety White innocence and spotlesse chastity In that first golden age when Saturne reign'd And still me thinkes within these woods he reignes Though banish'd quite from all the world beside Here liues the soule of vertue here abides The faire Antigone whose matchlesse goodnesse Vpbraides and expiates this ages crimes And quite our-weighs th' impiety of Thebes This place the Gods disdaining other sights Behold with wonder when Antigone With pious hands directs her blinded sire The wofull Oedipus hither the Graces The chaster Nymphs and harmelesse Dryades Leauing their bowers of pleasure all resort To waite on her and beare her company Antigone Aemon Anti. My father is asleepe you powers aboue Send sweete refreshment to his wearyed soule Oh pity him and punish not too farre That crime which fate and you your selues haue made He has already beene himselfe a iudge Too cruell to himselfe to expiate His fatall errours left a crowne and scepter Fled mens society and day it selfe Torne out his innocent vnhappy eyes Now since he wants the comfort of your light Grant him a quiet vndisturbed night Young Aemon heere Aem. Pardon me royall virgin Thinke it not rudenesse in me thus to presse Vpon your priuacyes but call it seruice Or zeale to wait vpon you and behold What I doo most admire Anti. Sir t is no fault That I can apprehend or if it bee T is such a fault as punishes it selfe This is the house of sorrow nought is heere That can inuite or recompense your comming Aem. To visite you so you be pleas'd to grace That visite with a welcome is a blessing No place has power to lessen it would make Hells saddest caue a faire Elysium Anti. You come from Court and speake as that has taught you This place knowes no such language Aem. Aemon neuer Was tax'd of flattery nor will your worth Admit it gentle Lady be but pleas'd To thinke my heart speakes in my tongue to you Oh giue me leaue but to confesse my flame Which neuer can be hid a better fire More chast more true and full of constancy I dare maintaine it warmes no breast on earth No earthly power but sweete Antigone Can sentence me to blisse or endlesse woe Oh saue that creature that depends on you Make me immortall by a faire returne Of grace from you and fauour Anti. Noble Aemen That title though I hated you your worth Would challenge from my truth I loue you better Then so to worke your ruine Loue and wed-locke Haue still beene fatall in our family The balefull owles and croaking rauens sing Our Hymenaean songs and furies light Their brands for torches to our bridall bedds Aem. No wondrous maide you beare a heauen about you A heauen of vertue that is proofe against The furies rage and fortunes vtmost spite You are aboue them all Oh take me to you And by coniunction of your goodnesse make Me higher then the power of fate can reach Anti. These are no times for Hymen when the frowne Of all the gods lyes heauy on our house Oh mooue that suite no more but yet as farre As my chast sorrow can admit of loue Let this suffice you I do loue your soule And if this storme should cleare and I haue power To marry euer Aemon is the man Of all the world I choose Aem. Oh heauenly voyce This promise from diuine Antigone More then fruition of the proudest beauty That ere mortality could boast reuiues me And makes me euer happy all the howers That from my countreys cause and from the warre I can be spar'd I le keepe as holy ones To pay deuotion heere heere I le relate What euer fortune throwes on doubting Thebes But one chast kisse and so farewell Anti. You haue it Yee powers of loue bee all auspicious now Hymen redeeme the wrongs that thou hast done Our house already had I neuer seene Young Aemon's face nere knowne his matchlesse worth No other man or minde had ere had power To warme Antigones cold breast with loue Prosper that flame that you your selues did mooue Dircus Ianthus Dir: T is so Ianthus Aemon is in loue With faire Antigone no other passion Could make so fresh a youth and spirit as his To seeke such sad retreats from that dark groue Which cloaths Cythaerens rough and craggy top Where farre from sight and company of men The wofull Oedipus laments alone His happlesse e errours fault vnseene by any But good Antigone his pious daughter How oft of late braue Aemon has beene mett What but her loue had power to draw him thither Ian. Shee is an obiect worthy of Aemon's loue The mirrour of her sexe a lassting patterne Of piety to all succeeding times Dir. As much true wortha nd manly vertue liues In noble Aemons breast hee 's the true brother Of braue Menaeceus whose deuoted head Sau'd Thebes from ruine Ian. True if Thebes be safe As neuer fairer were her hopes then now Th' Argolian forces are dishearten'd quite And of their seuen proud leaders which of late Beset the gates of Thebes but two are left Onely Adrastus and our banish'd prince If we I say be safe we owe that safety To Creons sonnes to braue Menaeceus death And Aemon's liuing valour one by death Gaue life to thousands t'other noble life Deseru'd an easier way to fame then death Dir. But I haue heard newes from the enemies campe All 's quiet there and t is