JOCASTA

Thou knowest what care my careful father took, In wedlock's sacred state to settle me With Laius, king of this unhappy Thebs, That most unhappy now our City is: Thou knowest, how he, desirous still to search The hidden secrets of supernal powers, Unto Divines did make his oft recourse, Of them to learn when he should have a son, That in his Realm might after him succeed: Of whom receiving answer sharp and sour, That his own son should work his wailful end, The wretched king (though all in vain) did seek For to eschew that could not be eschewed: And so, forgetting laws of nature's love, No sooner had this painful womb brought forth His eldest son to this desired light, But straight he charged a trusty man of his To bear the child into a desert wood, And leave it there, for Tigers to devo re. Not far from thence, the mighty Polibus, Of Corinth King, did keep his princely court, Unto whose woeful wife (lamenting much She had no offspring by his noble phéere) The courteous shepherd gave my little son: Which grateful gift, the Queen did so accept, As nothing seemed more precious in his sighed: Partly, for that, his faitures were so fine, Partly, for that, he was so beautiful, And partly, for because his comely grace Gave great suspicion of his royal blood. The infant grew, and many years was deemed Polibus son, till time, that Oedipus (For so he nam was) did understand That Polibus was not his sire in deed, Whereby forsaking friends and country there, He did return to seek his native stock: And being come into Phocides land, Took notice of the cursed oracle, How first he should his father do to death, And then become his mother's wedded mate. Then Oedipus, fraught full of chilling fear, By all means sought avoid this furious fate, But while he wéende to shun the shameful deed, Unluckily guided by his own mishap, He fell into the snare that most he feared: For lo, in Phocides did Laius lie, To end the broils that civil discord then Had raised up in that unquiet land, By means whereof my woeful Oedipus, Affording aid unto the other side, With murdering blade unwares his father slew. Thus heavenly doom, thus fate, thus powers divine, Thus wicked read of Prophets took effect: Now only rests to end the bitter happen Of me, of me his miserable mother. Alas, how cold I feel the quaking blood Pass too and from within my trembling breast? Oedipus, when this bloody deed was done, Forced forth by fatal doom, to Thebes came, Where as full soon with glory he atchieude The crown and sceptre of this noble land, By conquering Sphinx that cruel monster lo, That erst destroyed this goodly flowering soil: And thus did I (Oh hateful thing to hear) To my own son become a wretched wife. And so by him that from this belly sprang, I brought to light (Oh cursed that I am) As well two sons, as daughters also twain: But when this monstruous marriage was disclosed, So soar began the rage of boiling wrath To swell within the furious breast of him, As he him self by stress of his own nails, Out of his head did tear his griefful eyes, Unworthy more to see the shining light. "So deeply faulteth none, the which unwares "Doth fallen into the crime he can not shun: And he (alas) unto his greater grief, Prolongs the date of his accursed days, Knowing that life doth more and more increase The cruel plagues of his detested guilt, "Where stroke of grisly death doth set and end "U to the pangs of men increasing pain. Now to the end this blind outrageous sire. Should reap no joy of his unnatural fruit, His wretched sons, pricked forth by furious spite, Adjudge their father to perpetual prison: There buried in the depth of dungeon dark, (Alas) he leads his discontented life, Accursing still his stony hearted sons, And wishing all infernal sprites of hell, To breathe such poisoned hate into their breasts, As eke with other fallen to bloody wars, And so with pricking point of piercing blade, To rip their bowels out, that eke of them With others blood might stain his guilty hands, And both at once by stroke of speedy death Be forthwith thrown into the Stigia lake. They to avoid the wicked blasphemies, And sinful prayer of their angry sire, Agreed thus, that of this noble realm, Until the course of one full year was run, Eteocles should sway the kingly mace, And Polynice as exul should depart, Till time expyrde: and then to Polynice Eteocles should yield the sceptre up: Thus year by year the one succeeding other, This royal crown should unto both remain. Eteocles, thus placed in princely seat, Drunk with the sugared taste of kingly reign, Not only shut his brother from the crown, But also from his native country soil. Alas poor Polynice, what might he do, Unjustly by his brother thus betrayed? To Argos he, with sad and heavy cheer Forthwith conuayde him self, on whom at length With fawning face good fortune smiled so, As with Adrastus king of Argives there, He found such favour and affinity, As to restore my son unto his reign, He hath besedge this noble city Thebes. And hence proceeds, my most extreme annoy: For, of my sons, who ever do prevail, The victory will turn unto my grief: Alas, I fear (such is the chance of war) That one, or both shall purchase death thereby. Wherefore, to shun the worst that may befall, Though comfortless, yet as a pitiful mother Whom nature binds to love his loving sons, And to provide the best for their avail, I have thought good by prayers to entreat The two brothers (nay rather cruel foes) A while to stay their fierce and furious fight, Till I have tried by means for to appease, The swelling wrath of their outraging wills. And so with much to do, at my request They have forborn unto this only hour. And even right now, a trusty man of mine, Returned from the camp, informing me That Polynice will straight to Thebes continued ̄ me, Thus of my woe, this is the wailful so ̄ me. And for because, in vain and bootless plaint I have small need to spend this title time, Here will I cease, in words more to bewray The restless state of my afflicted mind, Desiring Thee, thou go to Eteocles, Heartily on my behalf beseeching him, That out of hand according to his promise, He will vouchsafe to come unto my court, I know he loves Thee well, and to thy words I think thou knowest he will give willing ear. I will go in, and pray the Gods therwhile, With tender pity to appease my grief. Hope to return from whence he First was driven? "Repress deer son, those reging storms of wrath, "That so bedim the eyes of thine intent, "☞But when disdains shrunk, or set aside, "And mind of man with l ysure can discourse "What seemly words his tale may best , "And that the unfolds without affects "Then may proceed and answer sage and graven, "And every sentenc with soberness: Wherefore unbend thine brows de are hylde, And cast thy rolling eyes none other way, That here dost not Medusa's face behold, But him, even him, thy blood and brother deer. And thou behold, my Polinices eke, Thy brother's face, wherein when thou mayest see Thine own image, remember therewithal, That what offence thou wouldst to him were done, The blows thereof rebound unto thy self. And hereof eke, I would you both before warn, When friends or brothers, kinsfolk or allies, (Whose hasty hearts some angry mood had moved) Be face to face by some of pity brought, Who seeks to end their discord and debate: They only ought consider well the cause For which they come, and cast out of their mind For evermore the old offences passed: So shall sweet peace driven pleading out of place Wherefore the first shall Polinices be, To tell what reason First his mind did rule, That thus our walls with foreign foes enclosed In sharp revenge of causeless wrongs received, As he allegeth by his brother's doom: And of this wicked woe and dire debate, Some God of pity be the equal judge, Whom I beseech, to breath in both your breasts A yielding heart to deep desire of peace. Oh son, amongst so many Misery's This benefit hath crooked age, I find, That as the track of trustless time hath taught, "It seeth much, and many things discerns, "Which reckless youth can never rightly judge. O, cast aside that vain ambition, That corrosive, that cruel pestilence, That most infects the minds of mortal men: "In princely palace and in stately towns "It creepeth oft, and close with it conveys, "To leave behind it damage and decays: "By it be love and amity destroyed, "It breaks the laws and common concord beats, "Kingdoms and realms it topsy turuie turns, And now, even Thee, his gall so poisoned hath, That the weak eyes of thine affection Are blinded quite, and see not to them self But worthy child, driven from thy doubtful breast This monstrous mate, in stead whereof embrace "Equality, which stately states defends "And binds the mind with true and trusty knots "Of friendly faith which never can be broke, "This, man of right should properly possess, And who that other does the more embrace, Shall purchase pain to be his joust reward By wrathful woe or else by cruel death. "This, first divided all by equal bonds "What so the earth did yield for our avail: "This, did divide the nights and days alike, "And that the veil of dark and dreadful night, "Which shrowds in misty clouds the pleasant light, "Ne yet the golden beams of Phebus rays "Which clears the dimmed air with gladsome gleam "Can yet heap hath in either of them both. If then the days and nights to serve our turn Content them selves to yield each other place, Well oughtest thou with weighty doom to grant Thy brother's right to rule the reign with Thee Which heavens ordained common to you both: If so thou nill Oh son Oh cruel son, "In whose high breast may justice build his bower "When princes hearts wide open lie to wrong? Why likes Thee so the tipe of tyranny With others lose to gather greedy gain? "Alas how far he wanders from the truth "That compts a pomp, all other to command, "Yet can not rule his own unbridled will, "A vain desire much riches to possess "Whereby the breast is bruised and bettered still, "With dread, with danger, care and cold suspect, "Who seeks to have the thing we call enough, "Acquaint him first with contentation, "For plenteousness is but a naked name. "And what sufficeth use of mortal men, "Shall best apaye the mean and modest hearts. "These hoarded heaps of gold and worldly wealth "Are not the proper goods of any one, "But pawns which Jove powers out abundantly "That we likewise might use them equally, "And as he seems to lend them for a time, "Even so in time he takes them home again, "And would that we acknowledge every hour, "That from his hands we did the same receive: "There nothing is so firm and stayed to man, "But whyrles about with wheels of restless time. Now if I should this one thing Thee demand, Which of these two thou wouldst choose to keep, The town quiet or unquiet tyranny? And wouldst thou say I choose my kingly cheer? Oh witless answer sent from wicked heart, For if so fallen (which mighty Gods defend) Thine enemies hand should overcome thy might, And thou shouldst see them sack the town of Thebes, The chastest virgins ravished for wreck, The worthy children in captivity, "Then shouldst thou feel that sceptre, crown, & wealth "Yield deeper care to see them taken away, "Than to possess them yieldeth deep content. Now to conclude, my son, Ambition Is it that most offends thy thought, Blame not thy brother, blame ambition From whom if so thou not redeem thy self, I fear to see Thee buy repentance deer. My servant deer, dost thou yet bring me news Of more mishap? ah weary wretch, alas, How does Eteocles? whom heretofore In his increasing years, I wonted ay From dangerous happen with favour to defend, Does he yet live? or hath untimely death In cruel fight bereft his flowering life? The we ̄ trous Greeks have haply ta the town Our soldiers then, perchance, Dispersed be e and yelden to the sword. Alas, what then beco ̄ mes of Polinice? O canst thou tell? is he dead or alive? O, how my heart is eased of this pain. Well, then proceed, and briefly let me hear, How you rep lst your proud presuming foes, That thereby yet at least I may assuage The swelling sorrows in my doleful breast, In that the town is hitherto preserved: And for the rest, I trust that mighty Jove Will yield us aid. This good success was lucky sure, and such, As for my part I little looked for: To save the town and eke to have my sons (As you report) preserved yet alive. But yet proceed, and further let me know The final end that they agreed upon. Those words of thine, do whelm my jealous mind With great suspect of other mischiefs hid. I long to know the rest, or good or bade. Right well I see, thou dost conceal the worst. Tell it I say, on pain of our displeasure. Alas, alas, this did I ever fear. Oh deer daughter, thy most unhappy brothers That sometime lodged within these wretched loins Shall die this day, if Jove prevent it not. They both have vowed (I quake alas to tell) With trenchant blade to spill each others blood. Oh cruel Eteocles, ah ruthless wretch, Of this outrage thou only art the cause, Not Pollinice, whom thou with hateful spite Hast reaved first of crown and country soil, And now dost seek to reave him of his life. Daughter no more delay, lets go, lets go. With me, dear daughter, to the greekish host, Time serves not now (my well-beloved child) To way the lose of life or honest name, But rather to prevent (if so we may) That wicked deed, which only but to think, Does hale my heart out of my heavy breast. Our woeful words, our prayers & our plaints, Pourde out with streams of overflowing tears, (Where Nature rules) may happen to prevail, When reason, power, and force of arms do fail, But if the glowing heat of boiling wrath So furious be, as it may not relent, Then I atwixt them both will throw my self, And this my breast shall bear the deadly blows That otherwise should light upon my sons: So shall they shed my blood and not their own. Well now dear daughter, let us hasten hence, For if in time we stay this raging strife, Then haply may my life prolonged be: If ere we come the bloody deed be done, Then must my ghost forsake this Feeble corpse: And thou, deer child, with dolour shalt bewail, Thy brother's death and mother's all at once. My faithful friends, my deer beloved maids, I come at call, and at your words I move My feebled feet with age and agony: Where is my son? Oh tell me where is he, For whom I sighed have so often sith, For whom I spend both nights and days in tears? Oh son, Oh sweet and my desired son, These eyes they see, these hands of mine Thee touch, Yet scarcely can this mind believe the same, And scarcely can this bruised breast sustain The sudden joy that is enclosed therein: Oh gladsome glass, wherein I see my self. At thy depart, Oh lovely child, thou left My house in tears, and Me thy wretched dame, Mirror of martyrdom, waimenting still That unworthy exile thy brother Thee gave: Ne was there ever son or friend far off, Of his deer friends or mother so desired, As thy return, in all the town of Thebes. And of my self more than the rest to speak, I have as thou mayste see, clean cast aside My princely robes, and thus in worfull weed, Bewrapped have these lustless limbs of mine: Nought else but tears have trickled from mine eyes, And eke thy wretched blind and aged sire, Since first he heard what war tween you there was, As one that did his bitter curse repent, Or that he prayed to Jove for your decay, With stretching string, or else with bloody knife Hath sought full oft to end his loathed life. Thou this mean while my son, hast lingered long In far and Foreign coasts, and wedded eke, By whom thou mayste, (when heavens appoints it so) Strange issue have by one a stranger born, Which grieves me soar, and much the more deer child, Because I was not present at the same, There to perform thy loving mother's endue. But for I find thy noble match so meet, And worthy both for thy degree and birth, I seek to comfort Thee by mine advise, That thou return this city to inhabit, Which best of all may seem to be the bower, Both for thy self and for thy noble spouse. Forget thou then thy brother's injuries, And know deer child, the harm of all mishap, That haps betwixt you, must happen likewise to Me: Ne can the cruel sword so slightly touch Your tender flesh, but that the self same wound Shall deeply bruise this aged breast of mine. Alas, alas, how wrekefull wrath of Gods Doth still afflict Oedipus progeny: The First cause was thy father's wicked bed, And then (O why do I my plagues recount?) My burden born, and your unhappy birth: "But needs we must with patient hearts abide, "What so from high the heavens do provide. With Thee my child, fain would I question yet Of certain things: ne would I that my words Might Thee annoy, ne yet renew thy grief. And seems it not a heavy happen my son, To be deprived of thy country coasts? And what may most molest the mind of man That is exiled from his native soil? Why so? eke servant lacketh liberty To speak his mind, without his Master's leave. And seemed this so grievous unto Thee? What helpeth most in such adversity? And how didst thou before thy marriage son, Maintain thy life, a stranger so bestead? Thy father's friends and thine, did they not help For to relieve that neked need of thine? Thou myghtst have help by thy nobility. "Well ought we then that are but mortal here, "Above all treasure count our country deer: Yet let me know my son, what cause Thee moved To go to Greece? And how belongs this answer now to Thee. And how yet came it to this strange effect? How couldst thou to this doubtful enterprise, So many bring, thus armed all at once? His servant thus obedient to his hest, Up by the heels did hang this faultless Imp, And piercing with a knife his tender feet, Through both the wounds did draw the slender twigs, Which being bound about his Feeble limbs, Were strong enough to hold the little soul. Thus did he leave this infant scarcely born, That in short time must needs have lost his life, If destiny (that for our greater griefs Decreed before to keep it still alive) Had not unto this child sent present help: For so it chanced, a shepherd passing by, With pity moude, did stay his guiltless death: He took him home, and gave him to his wife, With homely fare to fede and foster up: Now harken how the heavens have wrought the way To Laius death, and to mine own decay. And now to Thee my Polinices deer, I say that silly was Adrastus read, And thou God knows a simple silly soul, He to be ruled by thy heady will, And thou, to war against the Theban walls, These walls I say whose gates thy self should guard: Tell me I pray Thee, if the City yield, Or thou it take by force in bloody fight, (Which never grant the Gods I them beseek) What spoils? what Palms? what sign of victori Canst thou set up to have thy country woonne? What title worthy of immortal fam , Shall blazed be in honour of thy name? Oh son, deer son, believe thy trusty dame, The name of glory shall thy name refuse, And fly full far from all thy fond attempts. But if so fallen thou shouldst be overcome, Then with what face canst thou return to Greece, That here hast left so many Greeks on ground? Each one shall curse and blame Thee to thy face, As him that only caused their decay, And eke condemn Adrastus simple head, That such a phéere had chosen for his child. So may it fallen, in one accursed hour, That thou mayest lose thy wife and country both, Both which thou mayest with little toil attain, If thou canst leave high mind and dark disdain. Oh sons, dear sons, away with glittering arms, And first, before you touch each others flesh, With doubled blows come pierce this breast of mi e. Oh sons, my sons, for pity yet refrain. Oh Son. How can that be and thou my joy in war? Alas the Heavens me whelm with all mishap. Alas and wellaway, what hear I sons? How can it be? deer children can it be That brothers' hearts such rancour should enrage? O say not so, yet say not so deer sons. Oh wretched wretch Jocasta, where is found The misery that may compare to thine? Oh would I had nor gazing eyes to see, Nor listening ears to hear that now I dread: But what remains, save only to entreat That cruel dole would yet so courteous be To reave the breath out of this woeful breast, Before I Harken to some woeful ewes. Rest you here dams, and pray unto the Gods For our redress, and I in that mean while Will shut my self from sighed of loathsome light. Yet would I know, if that thy wife be such As thou canst joy in his? or what she is?