MESSENGER

What land is this? lythe Sparta here, and Arges, that hath bred So wicked brother? and the ground of Corinth lying spread Between the seas? or Ister else where wont to take their flight, Are people wild? or that which woontꝭ with snow to shine so bright Hircana laud? or else do here the wandering Srythians dwell? If once my mind may stay itself, and quaking limmꝭ I will. But yet of such a cruel deed before mine eyes the fear And Image walks: you raging storms now far from hens me ear And to that place me driven, to which now driven is the day Thus drawn from hens. In Peloppꝭ Turret high, a part there is of palace wide That to ward the south erected leans, of which the utter side With equal top to mountain stands, and on the city es, And people proud against their prince if once the traitors rise Hath underneath his battering stroke: there shines the place in sighed Where wont the people to frequent, whose golden beams so bright The noble spotted pillars gray, of marble do support. Within this place well known to men, where they so oft resort, To many other rooms about the noble court doth go. The privy Palace underlieth in secret place aloe, With ditch full deep that doth the wood of priuetee, And hidden parts of kingdom old: where never grew no tree That cheerful bows is wont to bear, with knife or lopped be, But Tax, and Cypress, and with tree of holm full black to see Doth beck and bend the wood so aloft above all These The higher oak doth overlook, surmounting all the treese. From hens with luck the ne to take, accustomde are the kings, From hens in danger aid to ask, and doom in doubtful things. To this affixed are the gifts, the sounding bright, The Chariots broke, and spoils of sea that now Myrtoon hight, There hang the wheels once wone by craft of falset axell tree, And every other conquests note: here leefull is to see The Tyre of Pelops head: the spoil of enemies here, And of Barbarian triumph left, the painted gorgeous gear. A loathsome Spring stands under shade, and slothful course doth take, With water black: even such as is, of some Stygian lake The ugly wave, whereby are woe , to swear the gods on High. Here all the night the grisly ghosts and gods of death to cry The fame reports: with clinking chains resounds the wood eke where, The sprights out: and every thing that dreadful is to hear, May there be seen: of ugly shapes from old Sepulchres sent A fearful flock doth wander there, and in that place frequen Worse things then ever yet were known: you all the wood full oft With flame is wont to flas e, and all the higher trees aloft Without a fire do burn: and oft the wood beside all this With triple barking roars at once: full oft the palace is Affright with shapes, nor light of day may once the terror quell. Eternal night doth hold the place, and darkness there of hell In mid day reigns: from hens to them that pray, out of the ground The certain answers given are, what time with dreadful sound From secret place the fates be told, and dungeon roars within While of the God breaks out the voice: whereto when entered in Fierce Atreus was, that did with him his brother's children trail, Dekt are the ultets: who (alas) may it enough bewail? Behind the infants backꝭ anon he knit their noble hands, And eke their heavy heads about he bound with purple bans: There wanted there no Frankincense, nor yet the holy wine, Nor knife to cut the sacrifice, besprinkt with leavens fine. Kept is in all the order endue, least such a mischief grette Should not be ordered well. He is him self the Priest, and he him self the deadly verse With prayer dire from fervent mouth doth sing and oft rehearse. And he at thaulters standꝭ him self, he them assygnde to die Doth handle, and in order set, and to the knife apply, He lightꝭ the fires, no rights were lefts of sacrifice undone. The wood tken quakte, and all at ones from trembling ground anon The Palace beckte, in doubt which way the payse thereof would fallen, And shaking as in waves it stood: from thayre and therewithal A blazing star that foulest train drew after him doth go: The wines that in the fires were cast, with changed licourfloe, And turn to blood: and twice or thrice that Tyre fell from his head, The Iucrie bright in Temples seemed to weep and tears to shed. The sights amazed all other men, but steadfast yet always Of mind, unmoved Atreus stands, and even the gods doth fray That threaten him, and all delay forsaken by and buy To thaulters turns, and therewithal a side he looks awry. As hungry tiger wonts that doth in gangey woods remain With doubtful pace to range and roam between the bullocks twain, Of either pray full covetous, and yet uncertain where She First may bite, and roaring throat now turns the tone to tear And then to hother straight returns, and doubtful famine holds: So Atreus dire, between the babes doth stand and them beholds On whom he points to slake his ire: First slaughter where to make, He doubts: or whom he should again for second offering take, Yet skylls it nought, but yet he doubts, and such a cruelty It him deligths to order well. First place, least in him think you might no piete to remain To grandsier dedicated is, First Tantalus is slain. All careless of him self he stood, nor once he would in vain His prayers lose. But Atreus fierce the sword in him at last In deep and deadly wound doth hide to hilts, and griping fast His throat in hand, he thrust him through. The sword then drawn away When long the body had upheld it self in doubtful stay, Which way to fallen, at length upon the uncle down it falls. And then to thaulters cruelly Philisthenes he Tralles, And on his brother throws: and straygh his neck of cutteth he. The carcase headlong falls to ground: apite us thing to see, The mourning head, with murmur yet uncertain doth complain. As long maend Lion Fierce amid the wood of Armenie, The drove pursues and conquest makes of slaughter many one, Though now defiled be his jaws with blood, and hunger gone Yet slakes not his Ireful rage, with blood of bulls so great, But slothful now, with weary tooth the lesser calves doth threat: None other wise doth Atreus rage, and swells with anger straynde, And holding now the sword in hand with double slaughter staynde, Regarding not where fell his rage, with cursed hand unmild He strake it through his body quite: at bosom of the child The blade Goth in, and at the back again out went the same. He falls, and quenching with his blood the altars sacred flame, Of either wound at length he dieth. Abhor you this? you hear not yet the end of all the fact, There follows more. Would God he had: that never tomb the dead might over hide, Nor flames dissolve, though them for food to fowls in pastures wide He had out thrown, or them for pray to cruel beasts would fling. That which the worst was wont to be, were here a wished thing, That them their father saw utombde, but o more cursed crime Uncredible, the which deny will men of after time: From bosoms yet alive out drawn the trembling owells shake, The vains yet breathe, the fearful heart doth yet both pante and quake: But he the strings doth turn in h nde, and destinies behold, And of the guts the signs eke one doth view no fully cold. When h the sacrifice had pleased, his diligence he putts To dress his brother's banquet now: and Straight a S onder cuts The bodies into quarters all, and by the stoompes anon The shoulders wide, and brawns of arms, he strikes of every hone. He la es abroad their naked lymms, and cuts away the bones: The only heads he keeps, and hands to him committed ones. Some of the gut are broachte, and in the fires that burn full sloe They drop: the boiling liccout some doth tumble to and f oe In moornyng cawdern: from the fless that over stands The fire doth f . and scatter out, and into chimney of e Up heaped again, and there by force to ary yet Unwilling burns: the lyuet makes grea noise upon the spit, Nor easily wot I, if the fless , or flames they be that cry, But cry they do: the fire Like pitc it fumeth by and by: Nor yet the smoke it self so sad, Like mist in sighed Ascendeth up as wont it is, nor takes his way upright, But even the Gods and house it doth with filthy fume defile. Oh patient Phœbus though from henc thou backward flee the while, And in the amid of heaven above dooste drown the broken day, Thou fleeste to la : the father eats his children well away, And lymmꝭ to which he onse gave life, with cursed jaw do he tear . He shines with ointment shed full sweet all round about his heat, Replete with wine: and often times so cursed India of food His mouth hath held that would not down but yet this one thing good In all thy ylls (Thyestes) is, that them thou dooste not . And yet shall that not long endure, though Titan backward go and chariots turn against him self, to meet the ways he went, And heavy night so heinous deed to keep from sighed be sent, And out of time from east arise, so foul a fact to hide, Yet shall the whole at length be seen: thy ills shall all be spied. why think you Thy of gilded the end to be? It is but part.