THESEUS

Why should she kill herself? why die, his spouse being come again These troublous words some perilous thing I wot not what to tell Speak plain: what lump of glutting grief her jaded heart does quei She does complain her case to none, but pensluely and sad She keeps it secret to his self, determined thus she had, To bear about with her the bane, wherewith she means to die. High, High thee fast, I pray thee now, now have we need to hie. Our Palace locked with stately stoulpes set open by and by. What cause compelleth thee to die? No worldly wight (save I my self alone) the same shall hear, Art thou afraid to tell it in thy husbands bashful ear? Speak out, thy secrets shroud I shall within my faithful breast. Thou shalt not suffered be to die: The crime that lose of breath Ought to revenge, show it to me. Alas do not my trilling tears thy stony stomach grieve? Still stands she mum? y e crooked, old, ilfauord, hobbling Trot, His Nurse for stripes and clogging bands shall utter every jot, That she forbid her hath to tell: in iron chains her bind, Let tawing whips wring out perforce the secrets of her mind: Be not abashed the ruthful wrack with courage to declare: My breast against the brunt of broils still armed I prepare, Our stock with sorrow shuken soar what cares do crush escry. Now Father do I know my Son bereaved of his breath, For why the Leacher life is lost: show in what sort he died. What shape that uncouth Monster had and body vast declare. Oh wanny Jaws of black Auerne, ache Tartar dungeon grim, Oh Lethes Lake of woeful Souls the joy that therein swim, And eake you glummy Gulfs destroy, destroy me wicked wight And still in pit of pangs let me be plunged day and night. Now, now, come up you Gobline grim from water creeks allow, What ever Proteus hugy swolue aloof does overflow, Come dowse me drowned in swallows deep, that triumph in my sin: And father thou that evermore full ready pressed hath been To wreak mine ire, aduentring In deed deserving death With new found slaughter have bereft mine only Son of breath. His tattered limbs I scattered have the bloody field about, While Innocent I punish do, by chance I have found out The truth of all this wickedness: heaven, stars, and sprites of hell I p ster with my treachery that me does overquell. No mischiefs hap remaineth more: iii. kingdoms know me well: We are returned to this World. For this did Hell unfold His gates that burials twain I might and double death behold? Whereby I both a wyueles Wight andeak a Sonles Sire, May with one brand to wise and Son inflame the funeral fire. Oh amer of blackefaced light Alcides, now restore Thy booty brought from Hell, redeem to me, to me therefore These Ghosts that now be gone, ah sinful wretch to death in vain I sue, most undiscrete by whom these wretched Wights were slain. Imagining destruction soar about it will I go, Now with thine own hands on thy self endue vengeance do bestow: A Pine tree bough down strained perforce unto the ground allow, Let slip into the open air shall cut my corpses in twain. From top of Scyrons Rocks I will be tumbled down amain. More grievous vengeance yet I have in Phlegethon River found, Tormenting guilty Ghosts enclosed with fiery Channel round. What pit and pangs shall plunge my soul already have I known, That tiring toil of Sisyphus that retchless rolling stone, Let yield unto my guilty Ghost, and being laid on These shoulders, these, these lifting hands of mine down let it sway: And let the fleeting flood about my lips deluded play. Yea let the ravening gripe come hear and Tytius paunch forsake, Forglutting food with grasping Cleaze my liver let him take, Increasing still to feed the Foul, and for my torments sake. And pause thou my Pyrothous Sire, and eke the snackle Wheel That whirleth still enforce my limbs thy swinging swift to feel. Gape, gape, thou ground and swallow me thou cruel Chaos blind, This passage to thinfernall Sprights is fit for me to find: My Son I will ensue, thou Prince of ghastly ghosts in hell, Dread not for chased we come to thee: give thou me leave to dwell Among thy dreadful dens for aye, and not to pass again. Alas, my prayer at the Gods no favour can obtain, But if that mischief crave I should how ready would they be? The shreadings of this deer beloved carcase bring to me, His mangled members hither bring on heaps that tumbled be: This is Hyppolytus, I do acknowledge mine offence, For I it is, that have deprived thee of life and sense. Least that but once, or only I should be a guilty Wight, I Sire attempting mischief have besought my Father's might. Lo I enjoy my father's gift, Oh solitariness, A grievous plague when feeble years have brought us to distress, Embrace these limbs, and that which yet does of thy son remain, Oh woeful wight in baleful breast preserve and entertain. These scattered scraps of body torn Oh Sire in order fetched, The straying gobbetts bring again, here was his right hand set: His left hand here instructed will to rule the reins must be. His left side rybbs (full well I know to be ewayld of me With bittter tears) as yet alas are lost and wanting still, Oh trembling hands behold this woeful business to fulfil, And withered Cheeks forbid your streams of flowing tears to run While that the father do account the members of his Son. And eke patch up his body rend, that hath his fashion lost, Disfigured foul with gory wounds, and all about betost: I doubt, if this of thee be piece, and piece it is of thee: Here, lay it here, in empty place, here let it laid be, Although perhaps it lie not right: (aye me) is this thy face? Whose beauty twinkled as a star, and eake did purchase grace, In sighed of F procured to ruth. Is this thy beauty lost? Oh cruel will of Gods, Oh rage in sin prevailing most. Does thus the Sire that great good turn perform unto his son? Lo let thy father's last fare well within thine ears to run, Mychild whom oft I bid farewell: the while the fire shall burn These bones, set open his burial bower, and let us fallen to mourn With loud lamenting Mopsus wise for both the coarses sake: With Princely Pomp his funeral fire see that you ready make. And seek you up the broken parts in field dispersed round, Stop his up hurlde into a Pit, let heavy clodds of ground lie hard upon his cursed head. Why dost thou ne as I S From me thy weeping Countenance? thy tears why dost thou hide That gushing sudden from ̄ thine eyes stream down thy cheeks apace & Why hidest thou thy flowing floods with Coat before thy Face? To know who 'tis, full soar I long Ah out alas, Oh woe is me, what villainy see I? Alas what uncouth Monster fowl of mischief I espy? Behold the royal Ivory engrau'de and purired fine, Emboast with golden studs, upon enameled Hast does shine, (The Jewel of Actea land) but whither fled is he? Oh sacred holiness, Oh Jove between whose mighty hands The Marble Poale with weltering sway in course directed stands, And thou that second Scep er wields in foamy fighting wave, Why does this cursed brood with such this wicked vengeance rave? Hath he be fostered up in Greece? or craggy Taurus wild Among hard rugged Rocks, and Caves, some savage Scythian Child? Or else in brutish Colchis I'll by Desert Phasis flood? Cat after kind he is, and will unkindly Bastard blood Return unto his kindreds course, whence first his ligne he clames. This frantic fury up and down comes of the warlike Dams, To hate the loyal leagues of love, and shunning long the use Of Cupid's camp, with tag, and rag, her body to abuse, Become as good as ever twangd: Oh detestable kind, No better Soil by any means can change thy filthy mind. The brutish beasts themselves do Joath abuse which Venus draws, And simple shamefastness it self observeth Nature's laws: Where is the brag of Majesty, and feigned portly grace Of manly mind, that hates new, and old things does embrace? Oh double dealing life, thou cloaks deceitful thoughts in breast, And settestout a forehead fair where frounced mind does rest: The saucy Jack with bashful brow does malipiertnes hide: The rashness of the despret Dick by stillness is unspied. With show of right religion knaves villainy maintain, And guileful mealemouthd Gentlemen do hold with speaking plain: The dainty wanton Carpet Knights of hardness boast and prate, That Woodraunger, that brainsick beast who lived in chased estate And undefiled Bachiler thou rude and homely clown, Thus dost thou watch thy time, to breed this blot in my renown? To make me Cuckold first of all did it delight thy mind, First falling to thy spousal sport with mischief most unkind, Now, now, to thee supernal Jove most hearty thanks I yield, That with my first Antiope to dreary death I quelde, That gone to dampish Stygian Dens I left thee not behind Thy Mother: go, go Vagabond rawnge, rawnge, about to find Strange foreign soils, and outcast lands aloof at world his end, And Isles enclosed with the Ocean flood to hell thy soul shall send: Beneath among the Antipodes thy self of harbouring sped, Though in the utmost lurking nook, thou shroud thy miching head, Above the grisly Palaces thou climb of lofty Poale, Or mayest above the clottring Snow advance thy cursed Soul, Beyond the brunt of Winter flaws and threatening rigour pass And stormy wrath with rumbling rough of ysse Boreas, With pengeance, vengeance violent fast hurling after thee, With daunting plagues and pestilence thy sins shall scourged be. For life and death, about the world in every lurking hoale. Oh fugitive I shall not cease still to pursue thy soul. But seek and search for thee I shall in lands that lie a far, All corners blind and caves shut up, Dens locked with bolt and bar A thousand ways unpassable no place shall me withstand. My cursings black shall light on thee there where revenging hand With weapon Can ̄ not work y harm: thou knowest that Neptuue great My Sire who floats on floods, & waves, with forked Mace does Beatrice Give licence freely unto me three bones to choose and crave, Which willingly the God hath grant, and sworn I shall it have Protesting ugsome Stygian Lake, and hallowed hath his vow: Oh breaker of the wrestling waves, avouch thy promise now. Let never more Hippolitus behold eclipsed light, And for the Father's wrathful rage the cursed child down smite, To uva le among the ghastly S rites oh Father bend thy might, To give (alas) this loathsome aid unto thy needy Son, I of thy Majesty divine exact not to be done. This chiefest bone, till puissant payse of ylles do us oppress: In bottom deep of boiling Tartar pit, and soar distress , In grisly Lymbo Jaws nigh garglefaced Ditis dim, Amid the crumpled threatening brows of Hellick Pluto grim, To claim thy promise made to me, as then I did refrain, Now Sire thy faith by promise endue perform to me again. Yet dost thou stay why rumble not the waltering waves yet bushed, Through foggy cloud in dusky skits with stormy blasts utrusht. Unfold the mantel black of Night, and roll away the Skies, Enforce the fighting floods braced out with mounting waves to rise And conjure up the water hags that in the Rocks do keep, The Ocean surges swelling him cast up from bottom deep. Oh Nature Grandame great of Heavenly Sprites, Eake Jove that guides Olympus mighty sway, That rakes the raze of twinkling heave ̄ lie lights On spinning Sphere and order dost for aye The straggling course of roaming planets High, And wields about the whirling Axletree The weltering Poales, th'eternal course of Sky To keep in frame, what works such care in thee That erst the cold which hoary winter makes Unclothes the naked wood, and now again Thesh ades return unto the breary brakes Now does the star of Summer Lion reign, Whose scalded neck with boiling heat does fry, Perbraking flames from fiery oming jaws: With scorching heat the parched corn do dry: Each season so his kindly course in draws. But thou that wields these things of massy might, By whom the hugy world with equal payse Even Balanced does keep in compass right, Each Sphere by measured weight that justly swaise, Alas why dost thou bear a retc less breast Towards mankind? not casting any care That wicked men with mischief be oppressed, And eake to see that goodmen well do fare Dame Fortune topsieturuy turns at will The world, and deals her dole with blinded hand, And fosters vice maintaining mischief ill. Foul lust triumphs on good men brought in band Deceit in stately Court the sway does wield, In Lordings lewd the vulgar sort delight, With glee to such the Mace of might they yield. Some magistrates they do both love and spite, And pen iue virtue brought to bitter bale, Receives reward that does of right arise, The continent to Prison need does hale, The Leacher reigns enhanced by his vice. Oh fruitless shame, Oh counterfeited port. But what news may this messenger now bring, Who with main pace comes posting in this sort, And stays with mourning countenance at the King. Oh Nature that preuaylste too much, (alas) how dost thou bind Whyth bonds of blood the Parents breast? how love wethe by kinte? Maugre our Teeth whom gullty ecke we would have rest of breath? And yet lamenting with my tears I do bewail thy death. The hugi st heap of woes by this I think to be enioyde, When flickering Fortune's cursed wheel donc cause us cry alas, To rue the wrack of things which carest we wished brought to pass. Because I slew him, not because I lost him, I repent. W Hat heap of haps do tumble vpsyde down Th'estate of man? less raging Fortune flies On little things: less leaming lights are thrown By hand of Jove, on that which lower lies. The homely couch safe merry hearts do keep: The Cottage base does give the Golden sleep. The lofty Turrets top that cleaves the cloud Withstands the sturdy storms of Southren wind, And Boreas boisterous blasts with threatening loud Of blustering Corus shedding showers by kind. The r king Dales do seldom noyance take, Biding the brunt of Lightnings slashing flake. Advanced crest of Caucasus the great Did quake with bolt of lofty thundering Jove: When he from clouds his thunder dints did Beatrice, Dame Cybels Phrygian fryth did trembling move: King love in haughty heaven full soar affright The nighest things with weapons does he smyght. The ridges low of Vulgar peoples house Stricken with storms do never greatly shake: His Kingdoms coast Jove's thundering thumps do souse: With wavering wings that hour his fligth does take Nor flitting Fortune with her tickle wheel Lets any wight assured joy to feel. Who in the World beholds the Statr S full bright, And cheerful day forsaking ghastly Death, His sorrowful return with groaning spright He rues, sith it depriude his Son of breath He sees his lodging in his court again, More doleful is then sharp Avernus's pain. Oh. PALLAS unto whom all Athens land Endue homage owes, because that THESEUS thine Among us worldly Wights again does stand, And sees the Heavens upon himself to shine. And passed hath the perilous miry Mud Of stinking Stygian Fen, and filthy Flood. Unto thy ravening Uncle's dreery Gail Oh Lady chaste not one Ghost dost thou owe, The Hellick Tyrant knows his perfect tale. Who from the Court this shrieking shrill does throw? What mischief comes in frantic PHAEDRA'S brain With naked Sword thus running out amain. Declare what villain is he y our honour so does slain?