SERVANT

Doth fame of people nought Adverse thee fear? Whom feat doth so compel To praise, the same his foes to be, doth fear enforce again: But who in deed the glory seeks of favour true tobtayne, He rather would with hearts of I be praised, then tongues of all. Let first the king will honest things, and no the same dare nyll. And where that shame is none, Nor care of right, faith, , nor holiness none staithe, That kingdom swarves. The brother's hurt a mischief count, though he be near so ill. Through perste with sword let him be and yield his hateful breathe. Doth in thee preva no whit? What mischief new thou in age provide? What sword? what fire? What weapon then shall sorrow such find fit to work thy will? Then ire it self yet thats a greater ill. What thing see e thou to bring to pass? I note what greater thing my mind, and more then wont it was Above the reatche that men are wont to work, begins to swell: And staithe with slothful hands. What thing it is I can not tell: But great it is. Beet so, my mind now in this feat proceed, For Atreus and Thyestes both, it were a worthy deed. Let eke of us the crime commit. The Thracian house did see Such wicked tables once: I grant the mischief great to be, But done ere this: some greater gilded and mischief more, let ire Find out. The stomach of thy son oh father thou e spire, And sister e e, like is the cause: assist me with your pour, And drive my hand: let greedy pa rends all his babes devour, And glad to rend his children be: and on their lyms to feed. Enough, and well it is devised: this pleases me in deed. In mean time where is he? so long and innocent wherefore Doth Atreus walk? before mine eyes already more and more The shade of such a slaughter walks: the want of children cast, In father's jaws. But why my mind, et dreadst thou so at last, And fain st before thou enterprise? it must be done, let be. That which in all this mischief is the greatest gilded to see, Let him commit. but what disceyte may we for him prepare, Whereby be rapt he may be drawn, to fallen into the snare? He wots f ll well we are his foes. Who shall of peace the promise geeue? Whom will he trust? His travels now the time hath made to seem to him but small. Yet other messengers to S nde, in such affairs procure. What thing against their uncle now, you them enstru to to do, Perhaps with you to work the Like, they will not be a dreaded. Such mischie e wrought hath of e returned upon the workers head. And shall your soons of this be beware that work you will? no secretness there is In their so g eene and tender you es: they will your trains disclose. And will you them, by whom you would he should beguiled be, Them selves beguiled? I need not warned be, for these within my bosom deep, Both faith, and fear, but chiefly aythe, doth shet and closely keep.