JOCASTA: A Tragedy written in Greek by Euripides, translated and digested into Act by George Gascoygne, and Francis Kinwelmerse of Gray's Inn, and there by them presented. 1566.  

The argument of the Tragedy  
To scourge the crime of wicked Laius,  
And wreck the foul Incest of Oedipus,  
The angry Gods stirred up their sons, by strife  
With blades embrued to reave each other's life:  
The wife, the mother, and the concubine,  
Whose fearful heart foredrad their fatal fine,  
Her sons thus dead, disdaineth longer life,  
And slays herself with self-same bloody knife:  
The daughter she, surprised with childish dread  
(That durst not die) a loathsome life doth lead,  
Yet rather chose to guide her banished sire,  
Than cruel Creon should have his desire.  
Creon is King, the type of Tyranny,  
And Oedipus, mirror of misery.  Fortunatus Infoelix.  


The names of the Interlocutors.  
jocasta, the Queen.  
servus, a noble man of the queen's train.  
Bailo, governor to the queen's sons.  
Antigone, daughter to the Queen.  
Chorus, four Theban dames.  
Polynices & Eteocles sons to Oedipus & the Queen.  
Creon, the queen's brother.  
Meneceus, son to Creon.  
Tiresias, the divine priest.  
Manto, the daughter of Tiresias.  
Sacerdos, the sacrificing priest.  
Nuntij, three messengers from the camp.  
Oedipus, the old King father to Eteocles, and Polynices, son and husband to jocasta the Queen.  
The Tragedy represented in Thebes.    

¶ The order of the dumb shows and Musics before every Act.  
FIrst, before the beginning of the first Act, did sound a doleful and strange noise of viols, citherns, Bandurion, and such like, during the which, there came in upon the Stage a King with an Imperial Crown upon his head, very richly appareled, a Sceptre in his right hand, a mound with a Cross in his left hand, sitting in a Chariot very richly furnished, drawn in by four kings in their doublets and Hosen, with Crowns also upon their heads: Representing unto us Ambition, by the history of Sesostres king of Egypt, who being in his time and reign a mighty Conqueror, yet not content to have subdued many Princes, and taken from them their kingdoms and dominions, did in like manner cause those Kings whom he had so overcome, to draw in his Chariot like Beasts and Oxen, thereby to content his unbridled ambitious desire. After he had been drawn twice about the Stage, and retired, the Music ceased, and jocasta the Queen issued out of her house, beginning the first Act, as followeth.  
jocasta the Queen issueth out of her Palace, before her twelve Gentlemen very bravely appareled, following after her eight Gentlewomen, whereof four be the Chorus that remain on the Stage after her departure. At her entrance the Trumpets sounded, and after she had gone once about the Stage, she turneth to one of her most trusty and esteemed servants, and unto him she discloseth her grief, as followeth.   

The first Act.  

The first Scene.  JOCASTA. SERWS. 
O Faithful servant of mine ancient sire,  
Though unto thee, sufficiently be known  
The whole discourse of my recureless grief  
By seeing me from Princes royal state  
Thus basely brought into so great contempt,  
As mine own sons repine to hear my plaint,  
Now of a Queen but barely bearing name,  
seeing this town, seeing my flesh and blood,  
Against itself to levy threatening arms,  
(Whereof to talk my heart it rends in twain)  
Yet once again, I must to thee recount  
The wailful thing that is already spread,  
Because I know, that pity will compel  
Thy tender heart, more than my natural child,  
With ruthful tears to moan my mourning case.  Ser. 
My gracious Queen, as no man might surmount  
The constant faith I bear my sovereign lord,  
So do I think, for love and trusty zeal,  
No son you have, doth owe you more than I:  
For hereunto I am by duty bound,  
With service meet no less to honour you,  
Than that renowned prince your dear father.  
And as my duties be most infinite,  
So infinite, must also be my love:  
Then if my life or spending of my blood  
May be employed to do your highness good,  
Command (O queen) command this carcase here.  
In spite of death to satisfy thy will,  
So, though I die, yet shall my willing ghost  
Contentedly forsake this withered corpse,  
For joy to think I never showed myself  
Ingrateful once to such a worthy Queen.  Ioca. 
Thou know'st what care my careful father took,  
In wedlocks sacred state to settle me  
With Laius, king of this unhappy Thebes,  
That most unhappy now our City is:  
Thou know'st, 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 devour.  Ser. 
O luckless babe, begot in woeful hour.  Ioc. 
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 borne,  
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 moved, did stay his guiltless death:  
He took him home, and gave him to his wife,  
With homely fare to feed and foster up:  
Now hearken how the heavens have wrought the way  
To Laius' death, and to mine own decay.  Ser. 
"Experience proves, and daily is it seen,  
" In vain, too vain man strives against the heavens.  Ioca. 
Not far fro thence, the mighty Polybus,  
Of Corinth King, did keep his princely court,  
Unto whose woeful wife (lamenting much  
She had no offspring by her noble fere)  
The courteous shepherd gave my little son:  
Which grateful gift, the Queen did so accept,  
As nothing seemed more precious in her sight:  
Partly, for that, his features 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  
Polybus' son, till time, that Oedipus  
(For so he named was) did understand  
That Polybus 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.  Ser. 
O fierce aspect of cruel planets all,  
That can decree such seas of heinous faults.  Ioca. 
Then Oedipus, freight full of chilling fear,  
By all means sought t'avoid this furious fate,  
But whiles he weened 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 hap  
Of me, of me his miserable mother.  
Alas, how cold I feel the quaking blood  
Pass too and fro 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 achieved  
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 (O hateful thing to hear)  
To my own son become a wretched wife.  Ser. 
No marvel, though the golden Sun withdrew  
His glittering beams from such a sinful fact.  Ioca. 
And so by him that from this belly sprang,  
I brought to light (O cursed that I am)  
As well two sons, as daughters also twain:  
But when this monstrous marriage was disclosed,  
So sore began the rage of boiling wrath  
To swell within the furious breast of him,  
As he himself by stress of his own nails,  
Out of his head did tear his griefful eyen,  
Unworthy more to see the shining light.  Ser. 
how could it be, that knowing he had done  
So foul a blot, he would remain alive?  Ioca. 
"So deeply faulteth none, the which unwares  
" Doth fall 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 an end  
" Unto the pangs of man's increasing pain.  Ser. 
Of others all, most cause have we to moan  
Thy woeful smart (O miserable Queen)  
Such and so many are thy grievous harms.  Ioca. 
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 th'infernal sprites of hell,  
To breath such poisoned hate into their breasts,  
As each with other fall to bloody wars,  
And so with pricking point of piercing blade,  
To rip their bowels out, that each of them  
With other's blood might stain his guilty hands,  
And both at once by stroke of speedy death  
Be forthwith thrown into the Stygian lake.  Ser. 
The mighty Gods prevent so foul a deed.  Ioca. 
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 expired: 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.  Ser. 
Oh th'unbridled minds of ambitious men.  Ioca. 
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 conveyed himself, 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 besieged this noble city Thebes.  
And hence proceeds, my most extreme annoy:  
For, of my sons, whoever 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 her loving sons,  
And to provide the best for their avail,  
I have thought good by prayers to entreat  
The two brethren (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.  Ser. 
Small space god wot, to stint so great a strife.  Ioca. 
And even right now, a trusty man of mine,  
Returned from the camp, informing me  
That Polynice will straight to Thebes come,  
Thus of my woe, this is the wailful sum.  
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 know'st he will give willing ear.  Ser. 
(O noble Queen) sith unto such affairs  
My speedy diligence is requisite,  
I will apply effectually to do  
What so your highness hath commanded me.  Ioca. 
I will go in, and pray the Gods therewhile,  
With tender pity to appease my grief.  jocasta goeth off the stage into her palace, her four handmaids follow her, the four Chorus also follow her to the gates of her palace, after coming on the stage, take their place, where they continue to the end of the Tragedy. SERWS SOLUS. 
"THe simple man, whose marvel is so great  
" At stately courts, and princes regal seats,  
"With gazing eye but only doth regard  
" The golden gloss that outwardly appears,  
"The crowns bedecked with pearl and precious stones,  
" The rich attire embossed with beaten gold,  
"The glittering mace, the pomp of swarming train,  
" The mighty halls heaped full of flattering friends,  
"The huge chambers, the goodly gorgeous beds,  
" The gilted roofs, embowed with curious work,  
"The sweet faces of fine disdaining dames,  
" The vain suppose of wanton reign at lust:  
"But never views with eye of inward thought,  
" The painful toil, the great and grievous cares,  
"The troubles still, the new increasing fears,  
" That princes nourish in their jealous breasts:  
"He weigheth not the charge that jove hath laid  
" On princes, how for themselves they reign not:  
"He weens, the law must stoop to princely will,  
" But princes frame there noble wills to law:  
"He knoweth not, that as the boisterous wind  
" Doth shake the tops of highest reared towers,  
"So doth the force of froward fortune strike  
" The wight that highest sits in haughty state.  
Lo Oedipus, that sometime reigned king  
Of Theban soil, that wonted to suppress  
The mightiest Prince, and keep him under check,  
That fearful was unto his foreign foes,  
Now like a poor afflicted prisoner,  
In dungeon dark, shut up from cheerful light,  
In every part so plagued with annoy,  
As he abhors to lead a longer life,  
By means whereof, the one against the other  
His wrathful sons have planted all their force,  
And Thebes here, this ancient worthy town,  
With threatening siege girt in on every side,  
In danger lies to be subverted quite,  
If help of heavenly jove uphold it not,  
But as dark night succeeds the shining day,  
So lowering grief comes after pleasant joy.  
Well now the charge her highness did command  
I must fulfil, though haply all in vain.  servus goeth off the stage by the gates called Electrae, Antygone attended with iii gentlewomen and her governor cometh our of the Queen her mother's Palace. BAILO. ANTIGONE. 
O Gentle daughter of King Oedipus,  
O sister dear to that unhappy wight  
Whom brother's rage hath reaved of his right,  
To whom, thou know'st, in young and tender years  
I was a friend and faithful governor,  
Come forth, sith that her grace hath granted leave,  
And let me know what cause hath moved now  
So chaste a maid to set her dainty foot  
Over the threshold of her secret lodge?  
Since that the town is furnished everywhere  
With men of arms and warlike instruments,  
Unto our ears there comes no other noise,  
But sound of trump, and neigh of trampling steeds,  
Which running up and down from place to place,  
With hideous cries betoken blood and death:  
The blazing sun x shineth half so bright,  
As it was wont to do all dawn of day:  
The wretched dames throughout the woeful town,  
Together clustering to the temples go,  
Beseeching jove by way of humble plaint,  
With tender ruth to pity their distress.  An. 
The love I hear to my sweet Polynice,  
My dear brother, is only cause hereof.  Bai. 
Why daughter, know'st thou any remedy  
How to defend thy father's city here  
From that outrage and fierce repining wrath,  
Which he against it, justly hath conceived?  An. 
Oh governor might this my faultless blood  
Suffice to stay my brethren's dire debate,  
With glad consent I could afford my life  
Betwixt them both to plant a perfect peace:  
But since (alas) I cannot as I would,  
A hot desire inflames my fervent mind  
To have a sight of my sweet Pollynice.  
Wherefore (good guide) vouchsafe to guide me up  
Into some tower about this hugy court,  
From whence I may behold our enemy's camp,  
Thereby at least to feed my hungry eyes  
But with the sight of my beloved brother:  
Then if I die, contented shall I die.  Bai. 
O princely dame, the tender care thou tak'st  
Of thy dear brother, deserveth double praise:  
Yet cravest thou that, which cannot be obtained,  
By reason of the distance from the town  
Unto the plain, where th'army lies encamped:  
And furthermore, beseemeth not a maid  
To show herself in such unseemly place,  
Whereas among such young and lusty troops  
Of harebrained soldiers marching to and fro,  
Both honest name and honour is impaired:  
But yet rejoice, sith this thy great desire,  
Without long let, or yet without thy pain,  
At wish and will shall shortly be fulfilled.  
For Polynice forthwith will hither come,  
Even I myself was lately at the camp,  
Commanded by the Queen to bid him come,  
Who laboureth still to link in friendly league,  
Her jarring sons (which hap so hoped for,  
eftsoons I pray the gracious gods to grant)  
And sure I am, that ere this hour pass,  
Thou shalt him here in person safely see.  Auti. 
O loving friend, dost thou then warrant me,  
That Polynice will come unto this court?  Bai. 
Ere thou be ware thou shalt him here behold.  Anti. 
And who (alas) doth warrant his adventure,  
That of Eteocles he take no harm?  Bai. 
For constant pledge, he hath his brother's faith,  
He hath also the truce that yet endures.  An. 
I fear alas, alas I greatly fear,  
Some trustless snare his cruel brother lays  
To trap him in.  Bai. 
Daughter, god knows how willing I would be  
With sweet relief to comfort thy distress,  
But I cannot impart to thee, the good  
Which I myself do not as yet enjoy.  
The wailful cause that moves Eteocles  
With Pollinyce to enter civil wars  
Is over great, and for this only cause  
Full many men have broke the laws of truth,  
And topsy-turvy turned many towns.  
"To greedy (daughter) too too greedy is  
" Desire to rule and reign in kingly state.  
x can he bide, that sways a realm alone  
To have another joined with him therein:  
Yet must we hope for help of heavenly powers,  
Sith they be just, their mercy is at hand,  
To help the weak when worldly force doth fail.  An. 
As both my brethren be, so both I bear  
As much goodwill as any sister may,  
But yet the wrong that unto Pollinyce  
This trothless tyrant hath unjustly showed,  
Doth lead me more, to wish the prosperous life,  
Of Pollinyce, than of that cruel wretch.  
Besides that, Pollinyce whiles he remained  
In Thebes here, did ever love me more,  
Than did Eteocles, whose swelling hate  
Is towards me increased more and more:  
Whereof I partly may assure myself,  
Considering he disdains to visit me,  
Yea, haply he intends to reave my life,  
And having power he will not stick to do it.  
This therefore makes me earnestly desire  
oft-times to see him: yet ever as I think  
For to discharge the duty of a sister,  
The fear I have of hurt, doth change as fast  
My doubtful love into disdainful spite.  Bai. 
Yet daughter, must ye trust in mighty jove,  
His will is not, that for th'offence of one  
So many suffer undeserved smart:  
I mean of thee, I mean of Polinyce,  
Of jocasta thy woeful aged mother,  
And of Ismena thy beloved sister.  
Who though for this she doth not outwardly  
From dreary eyen distill lamenting tears,  
Yet do I think, no less afflicting grief  
Doth inwardly torment her tender breast.  An. 
Besides all this, a certain jealousy,  
Lately conceived (I know not whence it springs)  
Of Creon, my mother's brother, appalls me much,  
Him doubt I more than any danger else.  Bai. 
Dear daughter, leave this foolish jealousy,  
And seeing that thou shalt here shortly find  
Thy brother Polinyce, go in again.  An. 
O joyful would it be to me therewhile,  
To understand the order of the host,  
Whether it be such as have sufficient power  
To overthrow this mighty town of Thebes.  
What place supplies my brother Polynice?  
Where found ye him? what answer did he give?  
And though so great a care pertaineth not  
Unto a maid of my unskilful years,  
Yet, for because myself partaker am  
Of good and evil with this my country soil,  
I long to hear thee tell those fearful news,  
Which otherwise I can not understand.  Bai. 
So noble a desire (O worthy dame)  
I much commend: and briefly as I can,  
Will satisfy thy hungry mind herein.  
The power of men that Polinyce hath brought,  
(Whereof he, (being Adrastus' son in law)  
Takes chiefest charge) is even the flower of Greece,  
Whose hugy train so mighty seems to be,  
As I see not, how this our drooping town  
Is able to withstand so strong a siege.  
Entering the field their army did I find  
So orderly in form of battle set,  
As though they would forthwith have given the charge:  
In battles seven the host divided is,  
To each of which, by order of the king,  
A valiant knight for captain is assigned:  
And as you know this city hath seven gates,  
So every captain hath his gate prescribed,  
With fierce assault to make his entry at.  
And further, passing through our frowning foes  
(That gave me countenance of a messenger)  
Hard by the King I spied Pollinyce,  
In golden glistering arms most richly clad,  
Whose person many a stately prince empaled,  
And many a comely crowned head enclosed:  
At sight of me his colour straight he changed  
And like a loving child in clasped arms  
He caught me up, and friendly kissed my cheek,  
Then hearing what his mother did demand  
With glad consent according to her hest  
Gave me his hand, to come unto the court,  
Of mutual truce desirous so he seemed,  
He asked me of Antigone, and Ismena,  
But chiefly unto thee above the rest  
He gave me charge most heartily to commend him.  An. 
The gods give grace he may at length possess  
His kingly right and I his wished sight.  Bai. 
Daughter no more, 'tis time ye now return  
It standeth not with the honour of your state  
Thus to be seen suspiciously abroad:  
"For vulgar tongues are armed evermore  
" With slanderous brute to blemish the renown  
"Of virtues dames, which though at first it spring  
" Of slender cause, yet doth it swell to fast,  
"As in short space it filleth every ear  
" With swift report of undeserved blame:  
"You cannot be too curious of your name,  
" Fond show of evil (though still the mind be chaste)  
"Decays the credit oft, that Ladies had,  
" Sometimes the place presumes a wanton mind:  
"Repair sometimes of some, doth hurt their honour:  
" Sometimes the light and garish proud attire  
"Persuades a yielding bent of pleasing youths.  
The voice that goeth of your unspotted fame,  
Is like a tender flower, that with the blast  
Of every little wind doth fade away.  
Go in dear child, this way will I go see  
If I can meet thy brother Pollinyce.  Antigone with her maids returneth into her mother's palace, her governor goeth our by the gates Homoloydes. CHORUS. 
IF greedy lust of man's ambitious eye  
(That thirsteth so for sway of earthly things)  
Would eke foresee, what mischiefs grow thereby,  
What careful toil to quiet state it brings,  
What endless grief from such a fountain springs:  
Then should he swim in seas of sweet delight,  
That now complains of fortune's cruel spite.  
For then he would so safely shield himself  
With sacred rules of wisdoms sage advise,  
As no alluring train of trustless pelf,  
To fond affects his fancy should entice,  
Then wary heed would quickly make him wise:  
Where contrary (such is our skilless kind)  
We most do seek, that most may hurt the mind.  
Amid the troop of these unstable toys,  
Some fancies lo to beauty most be bent,  
Some hunt for wealth, and some set all their joys,  
In regal power of princely government,  
Yet none of these from care are clean exempt:  
For either they be got with grievous toil,  
Or in the end foregone with shameful fail.  
This flitting world doth firmly nought retain,  
Wherein a man may boldly rest his trust,  
Such fickle chance in fortune doth remain,  
As when she lust, she threateneth whom she lust,  
From high renown to throw him in the dust:  
Thus may we see that each triumphing joy  
By fortune's frown is turned to annoy.  
Those elder heads may well be thought to err,  
The which for easy life and quiet days,  
The vulgar sort would seem for to prefer.  
If glorious Phoebe, withhold his glistering rays,  
From such a peer as crown and sceptre sways,  
No marvel though he hide his heavenly face,  
From us that come of less renowned race.  
seld shall you see the ruin of a Prince,  
But that the people eke like brunt do bear,  
And old records of ancient time long since,  
From age to age, yea almost everywhere,  
With proof hereof hath glutted every ear:  
Thus by the follies of the PRINCE's heart,  
The bounden subject still receiveth smart.  
Lo, how unbridled lust of private reign,  
Hath pricked both the brethren unto war:  
Yet Pollinyce, with sign of less disdain,  
Against this land hath brought from countries far,  
A foreign power, to end this cruel jar,  
Forgetting quite the duty, love, and zeal,  
He ought to bear unto this common weal.  
But whosoever gets the victory,  
We wretched dames, and thou O noble town,  
Shall feel thereof the woeful misery▪  
Thy gorgeous pomp, thy glorious high renown,  
Thy stately towers, and all shall fall a down,  
Sith raging Mars will each of them assist  
In other breast to bathe his bloody fist.  
But thou O son of Semele, and of jove,  
(That tamed the proud attempt of giants strong)  
Do thou defend, even of thy tender love,  
Thy humble thralls from this afflicting wrong,  
Whom waste of war hath now tormented long:  
So shall we never fail x day x night  
With reverence due thy praises to recite.  Done by F. Kinwelmarshe. 
Finis Actus primi.    

th'order of the second dumb show.  
BEfore the beginning of this second Act did sound a very doleful noise of flutes, during the which there came in upon the stage two coffins covered with hearse clothes, & brought in by viii in mourning weed, & accompanied with viii other mourners, & after they had carried the coffins about the stage, there opened & appeared a Grave, wherein they buried the coffins & put fire to them, but the flames did sever & part in twain, signifying discord by the history of two brothers, whose discord in their life was not only to be wondered at, but being buried both in one Tomb (as some writers affirm) the flames of their funerals did yet part the one from the other in like manner, and would in no wise join into one flame. After the Funerals were ended and the fire consumed, the grave was closed up again, the mourners withdrew them off the stage, & immediately by the gates Homoloydes entered Polynices accompanied with vj. gentlemen and a page that carried his helmet and Target, he & his men unarmed saving their gorgets, for that they were permitted to come into the town in time of truce, to the end jocasta might bring the two brothers to a parley, and Polynices after good regard taken round about him, spoke as followeth.   

Actus. 2.  

Scena. 1.  POLLINYCES. CHORUS. JOCASTA. ETEOCLES. 
Lo here mine own city and native soil,  
Lo here the nestle I ought to nestle in,  
Yet being thus entrenched with mine own towers,  
And that, from him the safe conduct is given  
Which doth enjoy as much as mine should be,  
My feet can tread no step without suspect:  
For where my brother bides, even there behoves  
More wary scout than in an enemies camp.  
Yet while I may within this right hand hold  
This brand, this blade, (unyielden ever yet)  
My life shall not be left without revenge,  
But here behold the holy sanctuary,  
Of Bacchus eke the worthy Image lo,  
The altars where the sacred flames have shot,  
And where of yore these guiltless hands of mine  
Full oft have offered to our mighty gods.  
I see also a worthy company  
Of Theban dames, resembling unto me  
The trai●d of jocasta my dear mother:  
Behold them clad in clothes of grisly black,  
That hellish hew that nay for other harms  
So well beseemed wretched wights to wear:  
For why, ere long their selves themselves shall see  
(Gramercy to their princes tyranny)  
Some spoiled of their sweet and sucking babes,  
Some lese their husband, other some their sire,  
And some their friends that were to them full dear.  
But now 'tis time to lay this sword aside,  
And eke of them to know where is the Queen:  
O worthy dames, heavy, unhappy ye,  
Where resteth now the restless queen of Thebes?  Chor. 
O worthy imp sprung out of worthy race,  
Renowned Prince, whom we have looked for long,  
And now in happy hour art come to us,  
Some quiet bring to this unquiet realm.  
O queen, O queen, come forth and see thy son,  
The gentle fruit of all thy joyful seed.  Iocast. 
My faithful friends, my dear beloved maids,  
I come at call, and at your words I move  
My feebled feet with age and agony:  
Where is my son? O tell me where is he,  
For whom I sighed have so often sith,  
For whom I spend both nights and days in tears?  Poli. 
Here noble mother, here, not as the king,  
Nor as a Citizen of stately Thebes,  
But as a stranger now, I thank my brother.  Iocast. 
O son, O 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:  
O gladsome glass, wherein I see myself.  Chor. 
So grant the Gods, that for our common good,  
You friendly may your sons both friends behold.  Iocast. 
At thy depart, O lovely child, thou left  
My house in tears, and me thy wretched dame,  
Mirror of martyrdom, waymenting still  
Th' unworthy exile thy brother thee gave:  
x was there ever son or friend far off,  
Of his dear friends or mother so desired,  
As thy return, in all the town of Thebes.  
And of myself more than the rest to speak,  
I have as thou mayst see, clean cast aside  
My princely robes, and thus in woeful 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 mayst, (when heavens appoints it so)  
Strange issue have by one a stranger borne,  
Which grieves me sore, and much the more dear child,  
Because I was not present at the same,  
There to perform thy loving mother's due.  
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 thyself and for thy noble spouse.  
Forget thou then thy brother's injuries,  
And know dear child, the harm of all mishap,  
That haps twixt you, must hap likewise to me:  
x can the cruel sword so slightly touch  
Your tender flesh, but that the self same wound  
Shall deeply bruise this aged breast of mine.  Cho. 
"There is no love may be compared to that▪  
" The tender mother bears unto her child:  
"For even so much the more it doth increase,  
" As their grief grows, or contentations cease.  Poli. 
I know not mother, if I praise deserve,  
(That you to please, whom I ought not displease)  
Have trained myself among my trustless foes:  
But Nature draws (whether he will or nill)  
Each man to love his native country soil:  
And who should say, that otherwise it were,  
His tongue should never with his heart agree.  
This hath me drawn beside my bounden due,  
To set full light this luckless life of mine:  
For of my brother, what may I else hope,  
But trains of treason, force and falsehood both?  
Yet neither peril present, nor to come,  
Can hold me from my due obedience:  
I grant I can not griefless, well behold  
My father's palace, the holy altars,  
x lovely lodge wherein I fostered was:  
From whence driven out, and chased unworthily,  
I have too long abode in foreign coasts:  
And as the growing green and pleasant plant,  
Doth bear fresh branches one above another,  
Even so amid the huge heap of my woes,  
Doth grows one grudge more grievous than the rest,  
To see my dear and doleful mother, clad  
In mourning tire, to tire her mourning mind,  
Wretched alonely for my wretchedness,  
So likes that enemy my brother best:  
Soon shall you see that in this wandering world,  
No enmity is equal unto that  
That dark disdain (the cause of every evil)  
Doth breed full oft in consanguinity.  
But jove, he knows what dole I do endure,  
For you and for my father's wretched woe,  
And eke how deeply I desire to know  
What weary life my loving sisters lead,  
And what annoy mine absence them hath given.  Iocast. 
Alas, alas, how wreakful wrath of Gods  
Doth still afflict Oedipus progeny:  
The first cause was thy father's wicked bed,  
And then (Oh why do I my plagues recount?)  
My burden borne, 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: x would I that my words  
Might thee annoy, x yet renew thy grief.  Poli. 
Say on, dear mother, say what so you please,  
What pleaseth you, shall never me disease.  Iocast. 
And seems it not a heavy hap my son,  
To be deprived of thy country coasts?  Poli. 
So heavy hap as tongue can not express.  Iocast. 
And what may most molest the mind of man  
That is exiled from his native soil?  Poli. 
The liberty he with his country lost,  
"And that he lacketh freedom for to speak,  
" What seemeth best, without control or check.  Iocast. 
Why so? each servant lacketh liberty  
To speak his mind, without his master's leave.  Poli. 
"In exile, every man, or bond or free,  
" Of noble race, or meaner parentage,  
"Is not in this unlike unto the slave,  
" That must of force obey to each man's will,  
"And praise the peevishness of each man's pride.  Iocast. 
And seemed this so grievous unto thee?  Poli. 
What grief can greater he, that so constrained,  
slave-like to serve 'gainst right and reason both,  
Yea much the more, to him that noble is,  
By stately line, or yet by virtuous life,  
And hath a heart like to his noble mind.  Iocast. 
What helpeth most in such adversity?  Poli. 
Hope helpeth most to comfort misery.  Ioca. 
Hope to return from whence he first was driven?  Poli. 
Yea, hope that happeneth oftentimes too late,  
And many die before such hap may fall.  Iocast. 
And how didst thou before thy marriage son,  
Maintain thy life, a stranger so bestead?  Poli. 
Sometime I found (though seldom so it were)  
Some gentle heart, that could for courtesy,  
Content himself to succour mine estate.  Iocast. 
Thy father's friends and thine, did they not help  
For to relieve that naked need of thine?  Poli. 
Mother, he hath a foolish fantasy,  
"That thinks to find a friend in misery.  Iocast. 
Thou might'st have help by thy nobility.  Poli. 
"Covered alas, in cloak of poverty?  Iocast. 
"Well ought we then that are but mortal here,  
" Above all treasure count our country dear:  
Yet let me know my son, what cause thee moved  
To go to Greece?  Poli. 
The flying fame that thundered in mine ears,  
How king Adrastus, governor of Greece,  
Was answered by Oracle, that he  
Should knit in links of lawful marriage,  
His two fair daughters, and his only heirs,  
One to a Lion, th'other to a Boar:  
An answer such as each man wondered at.  Iocast. 
And how belongs this answer now to thee.  Poli. 
I took my guess even by this ensign here,  
A Lion lo, which I did always bear:  
Yet think I not, but jove alonely brought  
These hands of mine to such an high exploit.  Iocast. 
And how yet came it to this strange effect?  Poli. 
The shining day had run his hasted course,  
And dewy night bespread her mantel dark,  
When I that wandered after weary toil,  
To seek some harbour for mine irked limbs,  
'gan find at last a little cabin, close  
Adjoined fast unto the stately walls,  
Where king Adrastus held his royal towers.  
Scarce was I there in quiet well ycouched,  
But thither came another exile eke,  
Named Tydeus, who strove perforce to drive  
Me from this sorry seat, and so at last,  
We settled us to fell and bloody fight,  
Whereof the rumour grew so great forth with,  
That straight the king informed was thereof,  
Who seeing then the ensigns that we bore,  
To be even such as were to him foresaid,  
Chose each of us to be his son by law,  
And sithence did solemnize eke the same.  Iocast. 
Yet would I know, if that thy wife be such  
As thou canst joy in her? or what she is?  Poli. 
O mother dear, fairer x wiser dame  
Is none in Greece, Argia is her name.  Iocast. 
How couldst thou to this doubtful enterprise,  
So many bring, thus armed all at once?  Poli. 
Adrastus swore, that he would soon restore  
Unto our right both Tydeus, and me:  
And first for me, that had the greater need,  
Whereby the best and boldest bloods in Greece,  
Have followed me unto this enterprise.  
A thing both just and grievous unto me,  
Grievous I say, for that I do lament  
To be constrained by such open wrong,  
To war against mine own dear country fears.  
But unto you (O mother) doth pertain  
To stint this strife, and both deliver me  
From exile now, and eke the town from siege:  
For otherwise, I swear you here by heavens,  
Eteocles, who now doth me disdain  
For brother, shortly shall see me his lord.  
I ask the seat, whereof I ought of right  
Possess the half, I am Oedipus' son,  
And yours, so am I true son to you both.  
Wherefore I hope that as in my defence  
The world will weigh, so jove will me assist.  Eteocles cometh in here by the gates Electrae, himself armed, and before him .xx. gentlemen in armour, his two pages, whereof the one beareth his Target, the other his helm. Chor. 
Behold O queen, behold O worthy queen,  
Unworthy he, Eteocles here comes,  
So, would the Gods, that in this noble realm  
Should never long unnoble tyrant reign,  
Or that with wrong the right and doubtless heir,  
Should banished be out of his princely seat.  
Yet thou O queen, so file thy sugared tongue,  
And with such counsel deck thy mother's tale,  
That peace may both the brother's hearts inflame,  
And rancour yield, that erst possessed the same.  Eteocl. 
Mother, behold, your hests for to obey,  
In person now am I resorted hither:  
In haste therefore, fain would I know what cause  
With hasty speed, so moved hath your mind  
To call me now so causeless out of time,  
When common wealth most craves my only aid:  
Fain would I know, what quaint commodity  
Persuades you thus to take a truce for time,  
And yield the gates wide open to my foe,  
The gates that might our stately state defend,  
And now are made the path of our decay.  Ioca. 
"Repress dear son, those raging storms of wrath,  
" That so bedim the eyes of thine intent,  
"☞ But when disdains shrunk, or set aside,  
" And mind of man with leisure can discourse  
"What seemly words his tale may best beseem,  
" And that the 〈◊〉 unfolds without affects  
"Then may proceed an answer sage and grave,  
" And every sentence sawst with soberness:  
Wherefore unbend thine angry brows dear child,  
And cast thy rolling eyes none other way,  
That here dost not Medusa's face behold,  
But him, even him, thy blood and brother dear.  
And thou behold, my Polynices eke,  
Thy brother's face, wherein when thou mayst see  
Thine own image, remember therewithal,  
That what offence thou wouldst to him were done,  
The blows thereof rebound unto thyself.  
And hereof eke, I would you both forewarn,  
When friends or brethren, 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 drive pleading out of place  
Wherefore the first shall Polynices 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 breathe in both your breasts  
A yielding heart to deep desire of peace.  Poli. 
"My worthy dame, I find that tried truth  
" Doth best beseem a simple naked tale,  
"x needs to be with painted process pricked,  
" That in herself hath no diversity,  
"But always shows one undisguised face,  
" Where deep deceit and lies must seek the shade,  
"And wrap their words in guileful eloquence,  
" As ever fraught with contrariety:  
So have I often said, and say again,  
That to avoid our father's foul reproach  
And bitter curse, I parted from this land  
With right good will, yet thus with him agreed,  
That while the whirling wings of flying time  
Might roll one year about the heavenly sphere,  
So long alone he might with peace possess  
Our father's seat in princely diadem,  
And when the year should eke his course renew,  
Might I succeed to rule again as long.  
And that this law might still be kept for aye,  
He bound himself by vow of solemn oath  
By Gods, by men, by heaven, and eke by earth:  
Yet that forgot, without all reverence  
Unto the Gods, without respect to right,  
Without respect that reason ought to rule,  
His faith and troth both trodden under foot,  
He still usurps most tyrantlike with wrong  
The right that doth of right to me belong.  
But if he can with equal doom consent,  
That I return into my native soil  
To sway with him alike the kingly seat  
And evenly bear the bridle both in hand,  
Dear mother mine I swear by all the Gods  
To raise with speed the siege from these our walls,  
And send the soldiers home from whence they came:  
Which if he grant me not, then must I do  
(Though loath) as much as right and reason would,  
To venge my cause that is both good and just.  
Yet this in heaven the Gods my records be,  
And here in earth each mortal man may know,  
That never yet my guiltless heart did fail  
Brotherly duty to Eteocles,  
And that causeless he holds me from mine own,  
Thus have I said O mother, even as much  
As needful is, wherein I me assure,  
That in the judgement both of good and bad,  
My words may seem of reason to proceed,  
Constrained thus in my defence to speak.  Chor. 
None may deny, O peer of princely race,  
But that thy words are honest, good and just,  
And such as well be that song of thine.  Eteo. 
"If what to some seems honest, good and just,  
" Could seem even so in every doubtful mind,  
"No dark debate nor quarrel could arise:  
" But look, how many men so many minds,  
"And that, that one man judgeth good and just,  
" Some other deems as deeply to be wrong.  
To say the truth (mother) this mind of mine  
Doth fleet full far from that farfetch of his,  
x will I longer cover my conceit:  
If I could rule or reign in heaven above,  
And eke command in depth of darksome hell,  
No toil x travel should my sprites abash,  
To make the way unto my restless will,  
To climb aloft, nor down for to descend.  
Then think you not, that I can yield consent  
To yield a part of my possession,  
Wherein I live and lead the monarchy.  
"A witless fool may every man him guess,  
" That leaves the more and takes him to the less.  
With this, reproach might to my name redound,  
If he, that hath with foreign power spoiled  
Our pleasant fields, might reave from me perforce,  
What so he list by force of arms demand.  
No less reproof the citizens ensues,  
If I, for dread of Greekish hosts, should grant  
That he might climb to height of his desire.  
In fine, he ought not thus of me to crave  
Accord or peace, with bloody sword in hand,  
But with humility and prayer both.  
For often is it seen, and proof doth teach,  
"Sweet words prevail, where sword and fire fail.  
Yet this, if here within these stately walls  
He list to live, the son of Oedipus,  
And not as king of Thebes, I stand content.  
But let him think, since now I can command,  
This neck of mine shall never yield to yoke  
Of servitude: let bring his banners splayed,  
Let spear and shield, sharp sword, and cindering flames  
Procure the part that he so vainly claims:  
As long as life within this breast doth last,  
I nill consent that he should reign with me.  
If law of right may any way be broke,  
" Desire of rule within a climbing breast  
"To break a vow may bear the buckler best.  Cho. 
"Who once hath passed the bounds of honesty  
" In earnest deeds, may pass it well in words.  Ioca. 
O son, amongst so many miseries  
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.  
Oh, 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 turvy turns,  
And now, even thee, her gall so poisoned hath,  
That the weak eyes of thine affection  
Are blinded quite, and see not to themself  
But worthy child, drive 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 doth the more embrace,  
Shall purchase pain to be his just 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 vail of dark and dreadful night,  
"Which shrouds in misty clouds the pleasant light,  
" x yet the golden beams of Phoebus' rays  
"Which clears the dimmed air with gladsome gleams  
" Can yet heap hath in either of them both.  
If then the days and nights to serve our turn  
Content themselves 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 O son O cruel son,  
"In whose high breast may justice build her bower  
" When princes' hearts wide open lie to wrong?  
Why likes thee so the type of tyranny  
With other's loss to gather greedy gain?  
"Alas how far he wanders from the truth  
" That counts 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 apay the mean and modest hearts.  
" These hoardward 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 whirls about with wheels of restless time.  
Now if I should this one thing thee demand,  
Which of these two thou wouldest choose to keep,  
The town quiet or unquiet tyranny?  
And wouldest thou say I choose my kingly cheer?  
O witless answer sent from wicked heart,  
For if so fall (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 shouldest thou feel that sceptre, crown, & wealth  
"Yield deeper care to see them ta'en 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 thyself,  
I fear to see thee buy repentance dear.  Ch. 
Yea dear, too dear when it shall come too late,  Ioc. 
And now to thee my Polynices dear,  
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 thyself 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 victory  
Canst thou set up to have thy country won?  
What title worthy of immortal fame,  
Shall blazed be in honour of thy name?  
O son, dear 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 fall 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 fere had chosen for his child.  
So may it fall, in one accursed hour,  
That thou mayst lose thy wife and country both,  
Both which thou mayst with little toil attain,  
If thou canst leave high mind and dark disdain.  Cho. 
O mighty Gods of goodness, never grant  
Unto these evils, but set desired peace  
Between the hearts of these two friendly foes.  Ete. 
The question that betwixt us two is grown,  
Believe me mother, can not end with words:  
You waste your breath, and I but lose my time,  
And all your travel lost and spent in vain:  
For this I swear, that peace you never get  
Between us two, but with condition,  
That whilst I live, I will be Lord of Thebes.  
Then set aside these vain forewasted words,  
And yield me leave to go where need doth press:  
And now good sir, get you out of these walls,  
Unless you mean to buy abode with blood.  Po. 
And who is he that seeks to have my blood,  
And shall not shed his own as fast as mine?  Ete. 
By thee he stands, and thou standst him before,  
Lo here the sword that shall perform his word.  Po. 
And this shall eke maintain my rightful cause.  Ioc. 
O sons, dear sons, away with glittering arms,  
And first, before you touch each other's flesh,  
With doubled blows come pierce this breast of mine.  Po. 
Ah wretch, thou art both vile and cowardlike,  
Thy high estate esteems thy life too dear.  Ete. 
If with a wretch or coward shouldest thou fight,  
Oh dastard villain, what first moved thee  
With swarms of Greeks to take this enterprise?  Po. 
For well I wist, that cankered heart of thine  
Could safely keep thy head within these walls,  
And flee the field when combat should be called.  Ete. 
This truce assured thee Polynices,  
And makes thee bold to give such boasting words:  
So be thou sure, that had this truce not been,  
Then long ere this, these hands had been imbrued,  
And eke this soil besprinkled with thy blood.  Po. 
Not one small drop of my blood shalt thou spill,  
But buy it dear against thy cankered will.  Ioc. 
O sons, my sons, for pity yet refrain.  Ch. 
Good Gods, whoever saw so strange a sight?  
True love and friendship both be put to flight.  Po. 
Yield villain, yield my right which thou withholds.  Ete. 
Cut of thy hope to reign in Theban walls,  
Nought hast thou here, nor nought shall ever have,  
Away.  Po. 
O altars of my country soil.  Ete. 
Whom thou art come to spoil and to deface.  Po. 
O Gods, give ear unto my honest cause.  Ete. 
With foreign power his country to invade.  Po. 
O holy temples of the heavenly Gods.  Ete. 
That for thy wicked deeds do hate thy name.  Po. 
Out of my kingdom am I driven by force.  Ete. 
Out of the which thou camest me to drive.  Po. 
Punish O Gods this wicked tyrant here.  Ete. 
Pray to the Gods in Greece and not in Thebes.  Po. 
No savage beast so cruel nor unjust.  Ete. 
Not cruel to my country like to thee.  Po. 
Since from my right I am with wrong deprived.  Ete. 
Eke from thy life if long thou tarry here.  Po. 
O father hear what injuries I take.  Ete. 
As though thy devilish deeds were hid from him.  Po. 
And you mother.  Eteo. 
Have done thou not deservest  
With that false tongue thy mother once to name.  Po. 
O dear City.  Eteo. 
When thou arrivest in Greece,  
Choose out thy dwelling in some musty moors.  Po. 
I must depart, and parting must I praise  
Oh dear mother the depth of your good will.  Ioc. 
O Son.  Eteo. 
Away I say out of these walls.  Po. 
I can not choose but must thy will obey,  
Yet grant me once my father for to see.  Ete. 
I hear no prayers of my enemy.  Po. 
Where be my sweet sisters.  Eteo. 
And canst thou yet  
With shameless tongue once name thy noble race  
That art become a common foe to Thebes?  
Be sure thou shalt them never see again,  
Nor other friend that in these walls remain.  Po. 
Rest you in peace, O worthy mother mine.  Ioc. 
how can that be and thou my joy in war?  Po. 
Hence forth n'am I your joy x yet your son.  Ioc. 
Alas the Heavens me whelm with all mishap.  Po. 
Lo here the cause that stirreth me by wrong.  Ete. 
Much more is that he proffereth unto me.  Po. 
Well, speak, darest thou come armed to the field?  Ete. 
So dare I come, wherefore dost thou demand?  Po. 
For needs or thou must end this life of mind  
Or quench my thirst with pouring out thy blood.  Eteo. 
Ah wretch, my thirst is all as dry as thine.  Io. 
Alas and wellaway, what hear I sons?  
How can it be? dear children can it be  
That brethren's hearts such rancour should enrage?  Eteo. 
And that right soon the proof shall plainly show.  Io. 
Oh say not so, yet say not so dear sons.  Po. 
O royal race of Thebes now take thine end.  Cho. 
God shield.  Eteo. 
O slow & sluggish heart of mine,  
Why do I stay t' imbrue these slothful hands?  
But for his greater grief I will depart,  
And at return if here I find my foe,  
This hasty hand shall end our hot debate.  Eteocles here goeth out by the gates Electrae. Po. 
Dear Citizens, and you eternal Gods,  
Bear witness with me here before the world,  
How this my fierce and cruel enemy,  
Whom causeless now my brother I do call,  
With threats of death my lingering steps doth drive  
Both from my right and from my country soil,  
Not as beseems the son of Oedipus,  
But as a slave, an abject, or a wretch:  
And since you be both pitiful and just,  
Vouchsafe O Gods, that as I part with grief,  
So may I yet return with joyful spoil  
Of this accursed tyrant, and he slain  
I may recover quietly mine own.  Polinyces goeth out by the gates Homoloides. Io. 
O wretched wretch jocasta, where is found  
The misery that may compare to thine?  
O 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 hearken to some woeful news.  
Rest you here dames, and pray unto the Gods  
For our redress, and I in that meanwhile  
Will shut myself from sight of loathsome light.  jocasta goeth into her Palace. Cho. 
O mighty God, the governor of Thebes,  
Pity with speed the pain jocasta bides,  
And eke our needs, O mighty Bacchus help,  
Bend willing care unto our just complaint:  
Leave them not comfortless that trust in thee,  
We have nor gold nor silver thee to give,  
x sacrifice to those thine altars due,  
In steed whereof we consecrate our hearts  
To serve thy will, and hests for to obey.  Whiles the Chorus if thus praying to Bacchus, Eteocles returneth by the gates called Electrae.  

Actus. ij.  
Scena. ij.  ETEOCLES. CREON. 
SInce I have rid mine enemy out of sight,  
The best shall be, for Creon now to send,  
My mother's brother, that with him I may  
Reason, consult, confer, and counsel both,  
What shall be best to use in our defence,  
Before we venture forth into the field.  
But of this travail, lo, he me acquits  
That comes in haste towards these royal towers.  Here Creon attended by four gentlemen, cometh in by the gates Homoloydes. Cre. 
O mighty king, not causeless now I come,  
To find, that long have sought your majesty.  
So to discharge the duty that I owe  
To you, by comfort and by counsel both.  Ete. 
No less desire this heart of mine did press,  
To send for thee Creon, since that in vain  
My mother hath her words and travail spent,  
To reconcile Polynices' and me:  
For he (so dull was his capacity)  
Did think, he could by dread of danger, win  
My princely heart to yield to him this realm.  Cre. 
I understand, the army that he brings  
Against these walls, is such, that I me doubt  
Our cities force may scarce the same resist.  
Yet true it is, that right and reason both  
Are on our side, which bring the victory  
Oftentimes: for we our country to defend,  
They to subdue the same in arms are come.  
But what I would unto your highness show,  
Is of more weight, and more behoves to know.  Ete. 
And what is that? oh quickly tell it me.  Cre. 
A Greek prisoner is come unto my hands.  Ete. 
And what sayth he that doth so much import?  Cre. 
That even already be their ranks in ray,  
And straight will give assault to these our walls.  Ete. 
Then must I straight prepare our Citizens  
In glittering arms to march into the field.  Cre. 
O Prince (and pardon me) thy youthful years  
Nor see themself, x let thee once discern,  
What best behoveth in this doubtful case.  
"For Prudence, she that is the mighty queen  
" Of all good works, grows by experience,  
"Which is not found with few days seeking for.  Ete. 
And were not this both sound and wise advise,  
Boldly to look our foemen in the face,  
Before they spread our fields with hugy host,  
And all the town beset by siege at once?  Cre. 
We be but few; and they in number great.  Ete. 
Our men have yet more courage far than they.  Cre. 
That know I not, nor am I sure to say.  Ete. 
Those eyes of thine in little space shall see  
How many I myself can bring to ground.  Cre. 
That would I like, but hard it is to do.  Ete. 
I nill pan up our men within the walls.  Cre. 
In counsel yet the victory consists.  Ete. 
And wilt thou then I use some other read?  Cre. 
What else? be still awhile, fir haste makes waste.  Ete. 
By night I will the Camuassado give.  Cre. 
So may you do and take the overthrow.  Ete. 
The vantage is to him that doth assault.  Cre. 
Yet skirmish given by night is perilous.  Ete. 
Let set upon them as they sit at meat.  Cre. 
Sudden assaults affray the mind no doubt,  
But we had need to overcome.  Ete. 
So shall we do.  Cre. 
No sure, unless some other counsel help.  Ete. 
Amid their trenches shall we them invade?  Cre. 
As who should say, were none to make defence.  Ete. 
Should I then yield the City to my foes?  Cre. 
No, but advise you well if you be wise.  Ete. 
That were thy part, that knowest more than I.  Cre. 
Then shall I say that best doth seem to me?  Ete. 
Yea Creon yea, thy counsel hold I dear.  Cre. 
Seven men of courage have they chosen out.  Ete. 
A slender number for so great emprise.  Cre. 
But they them chose for guides and captains.  Ete. 
To such an host? why they may not suffice.  Cre. 
Nay, to assault the seven gates of the city.  Ete. 
What then behoveth so bestead to done?  Cre. 
With equal number see you do them match.  Ete. 
And then commit our men in charge to them?  Cre. 
Choosing the best and boldest bloods in Thebes.  Ete. 
And how shall I the City then defend?  Cre. 
Well with the rest, for one man sees not all.  Ete. 
And shall I choose the boldest or the wisest?  Cre. 
Nay both, for one without that other fails.  Ete. 
"Force without wisdom then is little worth.  Cre. 
That one must be fast to that other joined  Ete. 
Creon I will thy counsel follow still,  
For why, I hold it wise and trusty both,  
And out of hand for now I will depart  
That I in time the better may provide  
Before occasion slip out of my hands,  
And that I may this Polynices' quell:  
For well may I with bloody knife him slay  
That comes in arms my country for to spoil,  
But if so please to fortune and to fate  
That other end than I do think may fall,  
To thee my friend it resteth to procure  
The marriage twixt my sister Antigone  
And thy dear son Haemon, to whom for dower  
At parting thus I promise to perform  
As much as late I did behest to thee:  
My mother's blood and brother dear thou art,  
x need I crave of thee to guard her well,  
As for my father care I not, for if  
So chance I die, it may full well be said  
His bitter curses brought me to my bane,  Cre. 
The Lord defend, for that unworthy were.  Ete. 
Of Thebes town the rule and sceptre lo  
I need nor ought it other wise dispose  
Than unto thee, if I die without heir.  
Yet longs my lingering mind to understand  
The doubtful end of this unhappy war:  
Wherefore I will thou send thy son to seek  
Tiresias the divine, and learn of him,  
For at my call I know he will not come  
That often have his arts and him reproved.  Cre. 
As you command, so ought I to perform.  Ete. 
And last, I thee and city both command,  
If fortune friendly favour our attempts,  
And make our men triumphant victors all,  
That none there be so hardy x so bold  
For Polynices' bones to give a grave:  
And who presumes to break my hest herein,  
Shall die the death in penance of his pain,  
For though I were by blood to him conjoined  
I part it now, and justice goeth with me  
To guide my steps victoriously before.  
Pray you to jove he deign for to defend,  
Our City safe both now and evermore.  Cre. 
Gramercy worthy prince, for all thy love  
And faithful trust thou dost in me repose,  
And if should hap, that I hope never shall,  
I promise yet to do what best behoves,  
But chiefly this I swear and make a vow,  
For Polynices' now our cruel foe,  
To hold the hest that thou dost me command.  Creon attendeth Eteocles to the gates Electrae, he returneth and goeth out by the gates called Homoloydes. CHORUS. 
O Fierce and furious God, whose harmful heart,  
Rejoiceth most to shed the guiltless blood,  
Whose heady will doth all the world subvert,  
And doth envy the pleasant merry mood,  
Of our estate that erst in quiet stood,  
Why dost thou thus our harmless town annoy,  
Which mighty Bacchus governed in joy?  
Father of war and death, that dost remove  
With wrathful wreck from woeful mother's breast,  
The trusty pledges of their tender love,  
So grant the Gods, that for our final rest,  
Dame Venus' pleasant looks may please thee best,  
Whereby when thou shalt all amazed stand,  
The sword may fall out of thy trembling hand.  
And thou mayst prove some other way full well  
The bloody prowess of thy mighty spear,  
Wherewith thou raisest from the depth of hell,  
The wrathful sprites of all the furies there,  
Who when they wake, do wander everywhere,  
And never rest to range about the coasts,  
T'enrich that pit with spoil of damned ghosts.  
And when thou hast our fields forsaken thus,  
Let cruel discord bear thee company,  
Engirt with snakes and serpents venomous,  
Even she that can with red vermilion die  
The gladsome green that flourished pleasantly,  
And make the greedy ground a drinking cup,  
To suy the blood of murdered bodies up.  
Yet thou return O joy and pleasant peace,  
From whence thou didst against our will depart,  
x let thy worthy mind from travel cease,  
To chase disdain out of the poisoned heart,  
That raised war to all our pains and smart,  
Even from the breast of Oedipus his son,  
Whose swelling pride hath all this jar begun.  
And thou great God, that doth all things decree,  
And sit'st on high above the starry skies,  
Thou chiefest cause of causes all that be,  
Regard not his offence but hear our cries,  
And speedily redress our miseries,  
For what can we poor woeful wretches do  
But crave thy aid, and only cleave thereto?  Done by G. Gascoygne. 
Finis Actus secundi.    

The order of the third dumb show.  
BEfore the beginning of this iii. Act did sound a very doleful noise of cornets, during the which there opened and appeared in the stage a great Gulf, immediately came in vi gentlemen in their doublets and hose bringing upon their shoulders baskets full of earth and threw them into the Gulf to fill it up, but it would not so close up nor be filled. Then came the ladies and dames that stood by, throwing in their chains & jewels, so to cause it stop up and close itself, but when it would not so be filled, came in a knight with his sword drawn, armed at all points, who walking twice or thrice about it, & perusing if, seeing that it would neither be filled with earth nor with their jewels and ornaments, after solemn reverence done to the gods, and courteous leave taken of the Ladies and standers by, suddenly leapt into the Gulf the which did close up immediately, betokening unto us the love that every worthy person oweth unto his native country, by the history of Curtius, who for the like cause adventured the like in Rome. This done, blind Tiresias the divine prophet led in by his daughter, and conducted by Meneceus the son of Creon, entereth by the gates Electrae, and sayth as followeth.   

Actus. iij.  

Scena 1.  Tiresias. CREON. MANTO. MENECEVS. SACERDOS. 
THou trusty guide of my so trustless steps  
dear daughter mine go we, lead thou the way,  
That since the day I first did lose this light  
Thou only art the light of these mine eyes:  
And for thou know'st I am both old & weak  
And ever longing after lovely rest,  
direct my steps amid the plainest paths,  
That so my feebled feet may feel lest pain.  
Meneceus thou gentle child, tell me,  
It is far hence, the place where we must go,  
Where as thy father for my coming stays?  
For like unto the slothful snail I draw,  
Dear son, with pain these aged legs of mine,  Creon returneth be the gates Homoloydes. 
And though my mind be quick, scarce can I move.  Cre. 
Comfort thyself divine, Creon thy friend  
Lo standeth here, and came to meet with thee  
To ease the pain that thou mightest else sustain.  
"For unto eld each travel yields annoy:  
And thou his daughter and his faithful guide,  
Lo rest him here, and rest thou there withal  
Thy virgin's hands, that in sustaining him  
Dost well acquit the duty of a child.  
" For crooked age and hoary silver hears  
"Still craveth help of lusty youthful years.  Tyr. 
Gramercy Lord, what is your noble will?  Cre. 
What I would have of thee Tiresias  
Is not a thing so soon for to be said,  
But rest a while thy weak and weary limbs  
And take some breath now after weary walk,  
And tell I pray thee, what this crown doth mean,  
That sits so kingly on thy skilful head?  Tyr. 
Know this, that for I did with grave advise,  
Foretell the Citizens of Athens town,  
How they might best with loss of little blood,  
Have victories against their enemies,  
Hath been the cause why I do wear this Crown,  
As right reward and not unmeet for me.  Cre. 
So take I then this thy victorious crown,  
For our avail in token of good luck,  
That knowest, how the discord and debate  
Which late is fallen between these brethren twain,  
Hath brought all Thebes in danger and in dread.  
Eteocles our king, with threatening arms,  
Is gone against his greekish enemies,  
Commanding me to learn of thee (who art  
A true divine of things that be to come)  
What were for us the safest to be done,  
From peril now our country to preserve.  Tyr. 
Long have I been within the town of Thebes,  
Since that I tied this trusty tongue of mine  
From telling truth, fearing Eteocles:  
Yet, since thou dost in so great need desire  
I should reveal things hidden unto thee,  
For common cause of this our common weal,  
I stand content to pleasure thee herein.  
But first, that to this mighty God of yours  
There might some worthy sacrifice be made,  
Let kill the fairest goat that is in Thebes,  
Within whose bowels when the Priest shall look,  
And tell to me what he hath there espied,  
I trust t'advise thee what is best to doen.  Cre. 
Lo here the temple, and ere long I look  
To see the holy priest that hither comes,  
Bringing with him the pure and fair offerings,  
Which thou requirest, for not long since, I sent  
For him, as one that am not ignorant  
Of all your rites and sacred ceremonies:  
He went to choose amid our herd of goats,  
The fattest there: and look where now he comes.  Sacerdos accompanied with. xvth xvi bacchanals and all his rites and ceremonies entereth by the gates Homoloydes. Sacer. 
O famous Citizens, that hold full dear  
Your quiet country: Lo where I do come  
Most joyfully, with wonted sacrifice,  
So to beseech the supreme Citizens,  
To stay our state that stagg'ringly do stand,  
And plant us peace where war and discord grows:  
Wherefore, with heart devout and humble cheer,  
Whiles I break up the bowels of this beast,  
That oft thy vineyard Bacchus hath destroyed,  
Let every wight crave pardon for his faults,  
With bending knee about his altars here.  Tyr. 
Take here the salt, and sprinkle therewithal  
About the neck, that done, cast all the rest  
Into the sacred fire, and then anoint  
The knife prepared for the sacrifice.  
O mighty jove, preserve the precious gift  
That thou me gave, when first thine angry Queen,  
For deep disdain did both mine eyes do out,  
Grant me, I may foretell the truth in this,  
For, but by thee, I know that I x may,  
x will x can, out trusty sentence say,  Sa. 
This due is done.  Tyr. 
With knife then stick the kid.  Sac. 
Thou daughter of divine Tiresias,  
With those unspotted virgins hands of thine  
Receive the blood within this vessel here,  
And then devoutly it to Bacchus yield.  Man. 
O holy God of Thebes, that dost both praise  
Sweet peace and dost in heart also disdain  
The noisome noise, the furies and the fight  
Of bloody Mars and of Bellona both:  
O thou the giver both of joy and health,  
Receive in 'gree and with well willing hand  
These holy whole brunt offerings unto thee,  
And as this town doth wholly thee adore,  
So by thy help do grant that it may stand  
Safe from the enemies outrage evermore.  Sac. 
Now in thy sacred name I bowel here  
This sacrifice.  tire. 
And what entrails hath it?  Sac. 
Fair and well-formed all in every point,  
The liver clean, the heart is not infect,  
Save lo, I find but only one heart string  
By which I find somewhat I wot near what,  
That seems corrupt, and were not only that,  
In all the rest, they are both sound and hole.  Tyr. 
Now cast at once into the holy flame  
The sweet incense, and then advertise me  
What hue it bears, and every other rite  
That aught may help the truth for to conject.  Sac. 
I see the flames do sundry colours cast,  
Now bloody sanguine, straight way purple, blue,  
Some parts seem black, some grey, and some be green.  Tyr. 
Stay there, sufficeth this for to have seen,  
Know Creon, that these outward seemly signs  
By that the Gods have let me understand  
Who understandeth all and seeth secret things,  
Betokeneth that the City great of Thebes  
Shall Victor be against the Greekish host,  
If so consent be given, but more than this  
I list not say:  Cre. 
Alas for courtesy  
Say on Tiresias, never have respect  
To any living man, but tell the truth.  Sacerdos returneth with the Bacchan by the gates homoloids. Sac. 
In this meanwhile I will return with speed  
From whence I came, for lawful is it not,  
That such as I should hear your secretness.  Tyr.. 
Contrary then to that which I have said,  
The incest foul, and childbirth monstrous  
Of jocasta, so stirs the wrath of jove,  
This city shall with bloody channels swim,  
And angry Mars shall overcome it all.  
With famine, flame, rape, murder, dole and death:  
These lusty towers shall have a headlong fall,  
These houses burnt, and all the rest be razed,  
And soon be said, here whilom Thebes stood.  
One only way I find for to escape,  
Which both would thee displease to hear it told,  
And me to tell percase were perilous.  
Thee therefore with my travel I commend  
To jove, and with the rest I will endure,  
What so shall chance for our adversity.  Cre. 
Yet stay a while.  Tyr. 
Creon make me not stay  
By force.  Cre. 
Why fléest thou?  Tyr. 
Sir 'tis not from thee  
I flee, but from this fortune foul and fell.  Cre. 
Yet tell me what behoves the city do?  Tyr. 
Thou Creon seemest now desirous still  
It to preserve: but if as well as I  
Thou knewest that which is to thee unknown,  
Then wouldst thou not so soon consent thereto.  Cre. 
And would not I with eager mind desire  
The thing that may for Thebes ought avail?  Tyr. 
And dost thou then so instantly request  
To know which way thou mayest the same preserve?  Cre. 
For nothing else I sent my son of late  
To seek for thee.  Tyr. 
Then will I satisfy  
Thy greedy mind in this: but first tell me,  
Menetius where is he?  Cre. 
Not far from me.  Tyr. 
I pray thee send him out some other where.  Cre. 
Why wouldest thou that he should not be here?  Tyr. 
I would not have him hear what I should say.  Cre. 
He is my son, x will he it reveal.  Tyr. 
And shall I then while he is present speak?  Cre. 
Yea, be thou sure that he no less than I,  
Doth wish full well unto this common weal.  Tyr. 
Then Creon shalt thou know: the mean to save  
This City, is, that thou shalt slay thy son,  
And of his body make a sacrifice  
For his Country: lo here is all you seek  
So much to know, and since you have me forced  
To tell the thing that I would not have told,  
If I have you offended with my words,  
Blame then yourself, and eke your froward fate.  Cre. 
cruel words, oh, oh, what hast thou said,  
Thou cruel soothsayer?  Tyr. 
even that, that heaven  
Hath ordained once, and needs it must ensue.  Cre. 
how many evils hast thou knit up in one?  Tyr. 
Though evil for thee, yet for thy country good.  Cre. 
And let my country perish, what care I?  Tyr. 
"Above all things we ought to hold it dear.  Cre. 
Cruel were he, that would not love his child.  Tyr. 
"For common weal, were well, that one man wail.  Cre. 
To lose mine own, I list none other save.  Tyr. 
"Best Citizens care lest for private gain.  Cre. 
Depart, for now, with all thy prophecies.  Tyr. 
"Lo, thus the truth doth always hatred get.  Cre. 
Yet pray I thee by these thy silver hears,  Tyr. 
"The harm that comes from heaven can not be scaped.  Cre. 
And by thy holy spirit of prophecy,  Tyr. 
"What heaven hath done, that can not I undo.  Cre. 
"That to no more this secret thou reveals.  Tyr. 
And wouldst thou have me learn to make a lie?  Cre. 
I pray thee hold thy peace.  Tyr. 
That will I not:  
But in thy woe to yield thee some relief,  
I tell thee once, thou shalt be Lord of Thebes.  
Which hap of thine this string did well declare,  
Which from the heart doth out alonely grow.  
So did the piece corrupted plainly show,  
An argument most evident to prove  
Thy son his death.  Cre. 
Well, yet be thou content  
To keep full close this secret hidden grief.  Tyr. 
I neither aught, x will keep it so close.  Cre. 
Shall I be then the murderer of mine own?  Tyr. 
x blame not me, but blame the stars for this.  Cre. 
Can heavens condemn but him alone to die?  Tyr. 
We ought believe the cause is good and just.  Cre. 
"Unjust is he condemns the innocent.  Tyr. 
"A fool is he accuseth heavens of wrongs.  Cre. 
"There can no ill thing come from heavens above.  Tyr. 
Then this that heaven commands can not be ill.  Cre. 
I not believe that thou hast talked with God.  Tyr. 
Because I tell thee that doth thee displease.  Cre. 
Out of my sight accursed lying wretch.  Tyr. 
Go daughter go, oh what a fool is he  
That puts in ure to publish prophecies?  
"For if he do foretell a froward fate,  
" Though it be true, yet shall he purchase hate:  
"And if he silence keep, or hide the truth,  
" The heavy wrath of mighty Gods ensueth.  
Apollo he might well tell things to come,  
That had no dread the angry to offend:  
But high we daughter hence some other way.  Tiresias with Manto his daughter, returneth by the gates called Electrae.  

Scena. ij.  CREON. MENECEUS. 
OH my dear child, well hast thou heard with ear  
These weary news, or rather wicked tales  
That this divine of thee divined hath:  
Yet will thy father never be thy foe,  
With cruel doom thy death for to consent.  Me. 
You rather ought, O father, to consent  
Unto my death, since that my death may bring  
Unto this town both peace and victory.  
"x can I purchase more praiseworthy death  
" Than for my countries wealth to lose my breath.  Cre. 
I can not praise this witless will of thine.  Me. 
"You know dear father, that this life of ours  
" Is brittle, short, and nothing else in deed  
"But tedious toil and pangs of endless pain:  
" And death, whose dart to some men seems so fell,  
"Brings quiet end to this unquiet life.  
" Unto which end who soonest doth arrive,  
"Finds soonest rest of all his restless grief.  
" And were it so, that here on earth we felt  
"No prick of pain, nor that our flattering days  
" Were never dashed by froward fortune's frown,  
"Yet being borne (as all men are) to die,  
" Were not this worthy glory and renown,  
"To yield the country soil where I was borne,  
" For so long time, so short a time as mine?  
I can not think that this can be denied.  
Then if to shun this haughty high behest,  
Mine only cause, O father, doth you move,  
Be sure, you seek to take from me your son,  
The greatest honour that I can attain:  
But if your own commodity you move,  
So much the less you ought the same allow:  
For look, how much the more you have in Thebes,  
So much the more you ought to love the same:  
Here have you Haemon, he that in my stead  
(O my dear father) may with you remain,  
So that, although you be deprived of me,  
Yet shall you not be quite deprived of heirs.  Cre. 
I can not choose, dear son, but disallow  
This thy too hasty, hot desire of death:  
For if thy life thou settest all so light,  
Yet oughtest thou thy father me respect,  
Who as I draw the more to lumpish age,  
So much more need have I to crave thine aid:  
x will I yet, with stubborn tongue deny,  
"That for his common weal to spend his life,  
" Doth win the subject high renowned name.  
"But how? in armour to defend the state,  
" Not like a beast to bleed in sacrifice:  
And therewithal, if any should consent  
To such a death, then should the same be I,  
That have prolonged life even long enough,  
x many days have I now to draw on.  
And more avail might to the country come,  
Dear son, to hold that lusty life of thine  
That art both young and eke of courage stout,  
Than may by me that feeble am and old.  
Then live dear son in high prosperity,  
And give me leave that worthy am to die.  Mene. 
Yet worthy were not that unworthy change.  Cre. 
If such a death bring glory, give it me,  Mene. 
Not you, but me, the heavens call to die.  Cre. 
We be but one in flesh and body both.  Mene. 
I father aught; so ought not you, to die.  Cre. 
If thou son die, think not that I can line:  
Then let me die, and so shall he first die,  
That aught to die, and yet but one shall die.  Me. 
Although I, father, ought t'obey your hests,  
Yet evil were not to this yield your will.  Cre. 
Thy wit is wily for to work this woe.  Me. 
Oh, tender pity moveth me thereto.  Cre. 
"A beast is he, that kills himself with knife,  
" Of pity to preserve another's life.  Me. 
"Yet wise is he, that doth obey the Gods.  Cre. 
The Gods will not the death of any wight.  Me. 
"Whose life they take, they give him life also.  Cre. 
But thou dost strive to take thy life thyself.  Me. 
Nay them to obey, that will I shall not live.  Cre. 
What fault, O son, condemneth thee to death?  Me. 
"Who liveth (father) here without a fault?  Cre. 
I see no guilt in thee that death deserves.  Me. 
But God it seeth that every secret seeth.  Cre. 
how should we know what is the will of God?  Me. 
We know it then, when he reveals the same.  Cre. 
As though he would come down to tell it us.  Me. 
By divers means his secrets he discloseth.  Cre. 
Oh, fond is he, who thinks to understand  
The mysteries of jove his secret mind:  
And for to end this controversy here,  
Lo thus I say, I will we both live yet:  
Prepare thee then, my hests to hold and keep,  
And pull a down that stubborn heart of thine.  Me. 
You may of me, as of yourself dispose,  
And since my life doth seem so dear to you,  
I will preserve the same to your avail,  
That I may spend it always to your will.  Cre. 
Then▪ thee behoves out of this town to fly:  
Before the bold and blind Tiresias  
Do publish this that is as yet unknown.  Me. 
And where, or in what place shall I become?  Cre. 
Where thou mayst be hence furthest out of sight.  Me. 
You may command, and I ought to obey.  Cre. 
Go to the land of Thesprotia.  Me. 
Where Dodona doth fit in sacred chair?  Cre. 
even there my child.  Me. 
And who shall guide my wandering steps?  Cre. 
high jove.  Me. 
Who shall give sustenance for my relief?  Cre. 
There will I send thee heaps of glistering gold.  Me. 
But when shall I eftsoons my father see?  Cre. 
Credit long I hope: but now, for now depart,  
For every lingering let or little stay,  
May purchase pain and torment both to me.  Me. 
First would I take my congee of the Queen,  
That since the day my mother lost her life,  
Hath nourished me as if I were her own.  Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes. Cre. 
Oh, tarry not my dear son, tarry not.  Me. 
Behold father, I go. You dames of Thebes.  
Pray to almighty jove for my return,  
You see how mine unhappy stars me drive  
To go my country fro, and if so chance,  
I end in woe my prime and lusty years  
Before the course of Nature do them call,  
Honour my death yet with your dreary plaints,  
And I shall eke, where so this carcase come,  
Pray to the Gods that they preserve this town.  Meneceus departeth by the gates Electrae. CHORUS. 

WHen she that rules the rolling wheel of chance,  
Doth turn aside her angry frowning face,  
On him, whom erst she deigned to advance,  
She never leaves to galled him with disgrace,  
To toss and turn his state in every place,  
Till at the last she hurl him from on high  
And yield him subject unto misery:  
And as the branch that from the root is reft,  
He never wins like life to that he left:  
Yea though he do, yet can no taste of joy  
Compare with pangs that passed in his annoy.   

Well did the heavens ordain for our behoof  
Necessity, and fates by them allowed,  
That when we see our high mishaps aloof  
(As me our eyes were muffled with a cloud)  
Our froward will doth shrink itself and shroud  
From our avail, wherewith we run so far  
As none amends can make that we do mar:  
Then draws evil hap & strives to show his strength,  
And such as yield unto his might, at length  
He leads them by necessity the way  
That destiny prepared for our decay.   

The Mariner amid the swelling seas  
Who seeth his bark with many a billow beaten,  
Now here, now there, as wind and waves best please,  
When thundering jove with tempest list to threaten,  
And dreads in deepest gulf for to be eaten,  
Yet learns a mean by mere necessity  
To save himself in such extremity:  
For when he seeth no man hath wit nor power  
To fly from fate when fortune list to lower,  
His only hope on mighty jove doth cast,  
Whereby he wins the wished haven at last.   

How fond is that man in his fantasy,  
Who thinks that jove the maker of us all,  
And he that tempers all in heaven on high,  
The sun, the moan, the stars celestial,  
So that no leaf without his leave can fall,  
Hath not in him omnipotence also  
To guide and govern all things here below?  
O blinded eyes, O wretched mortal wights,  
O subject slaves to every evil that lights,  
To scape such woe, such pain, such shame and scorn,  
Happy were he that never had been borne.   

Well might duke Creon driven by destiny,  
If true it be that old Tiresias saith,  
Redeem our city from this misery,  
By his consent unto Meneceus' death,  
Who of himself would feign have lost his breath,  
"But every man is loath for to fulfil  
" The heavenly hest that pleaseth not his will:  
"That public weal must needs to ruin go  
" Where private profit is preferred so.  
Yet mighty God, thy only aid we crave,  
This town from siege, and us from sorrow save.   
Finis Actus tertij.    

The order of the fourth dumb show.  
BEfore the beginning of this fourth Act, the Trumpets sounded, the drums and mischiefs, and a great peal of ordinance was shot of, in the which there entered upon the stage vi knights armed at all points, whereof three came in by the Gates Electrae, and the other four by the Gates Homoloides, either part being accompanied with vii, other armed men: and after they had marched twice or thrice about the Stage, the one party menacing the other by their furious looks and gestures, the vi knights caused their other attendants to stand by, and drawing their Swords, fell to cruel and courageous combat, continuing therein, till two on the one side were slain: the third perceiving, that he only remained to withstand the force of iii enemies, did politicly run aside, wherewith immediately one of the iii followed after him, and when he had drawn his enemy thus from his company, he turned again and slew him: Then the second also ran after him, whom he slew in like manner, and consequently the third, and then triumphantly marched about the Stage with his sword in his hand. Hereby was noted the incomparable force of concord between brethren, who as long as they hold together may not easily by any means be overcome, and being once dissevered by any means, are easily overthrown. The history of the brethren Horatii & Curiatii, who agreed to like combat and came to like end. After that the dead carcases were carried from the Stage by the armed men on both parties, and that the victor was triumphantly accompanied out, also came in a messenger armed from the camp, seeking the Queen, and to her spoke as followeth.   

Actus. iiij.  

Scena. i.  NUNCIUS JOCASTA. Nuncius cometh in by the gates Homoloides 
O Sage and sober dames, O shamefast maids,  
O faithful servants of our aged Queen,  
Come lead her forth, sith unto her I bring  
Such secret news as are of great import.  
Come forth, O Queen, surcease thy woeful plaint,  
And to my words vouchsafe a willing ear.  The Queen with her train cometh out of her Palace. Ioca. 
My servant dear, dost thou yet bring me news  
Of more mishap? ah weary wretch, alas,  
How doth Eteocles? whom heretofore  
In his increasing years, I wonted ay  
From dangerous hap with favour to defend,  
Doth he yet live? or hath untimely death  
In cruel fight bereft his flowering life?  Nun. 
He lives (O Queen) hereof have ye no doubt,  
From such suspect myself will quite you soon.  Ioca. 
The venturous Greeks have haply ta'en the town.  Nun. 
The Gods forbid.  Ioca. 
Our soldiers then, perchance,  
Dispersed been and yelden to the sword.  Nun. 
Not so, they were at first in danger sure,  
But in the end obtained victory.  Ioca. 
Alas, what then becomes of Polynice?  
Oh canst thou tell? is he dead or alive?  Nun. 
You have (O Queen) yet both your sons alive.  Ioca. 
Oh, how my heart is eased of this pain.  
Well, then proceed, and briefly let me hear,  
How ye repulsed 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.  Nun. 
No sooner had your worthy valiant son,  
Severed the Dukes into seven several parts,  
And set them to defence of several gates,  
And brought in brave array his horsemen out,  
First to encounter with their mighty foen,  
And likewise pitched, the footmen face to face  
Against the footmen of their enemies,  
But fiercely straight, the armies did approach,  
Swarming so thick, as covered clean the field,  
When dreadful blast of braying trumpets sound,  
Of doleful drums, and thundering cannon shot,  
Gave hideous sign of horror of the fight,  
Then 'gan the Greeks to give their sharp assault,  
Then from the walls our stout courageous men,  
With rolling stones, with peise of hugy beams,  
With flying darts, with flakes of burning fire,  
And deadly blows, did beat them back again:  
Thus striving long, with stout and bloody fight,  
Whereby full many thousand slaughtered were,  
The hardy Greeks came underneath the walls,  
Of whom, first Capaney (a lusty Knight)  
Did scale the walls, and on the top thereof  
Did vaunt himself, when many hundred more,  
With fierce assaults did follow him as fast.  
Then lo, the Captains seven bestirred themselves,  
(Whose names ye have already understood)  
Some here, some there, nought dreading loss of life,  
With new relief to feed thee fainting breach:  
And Polynice, he bended all the force  
Of his whole charge, against the greatest gate,  
When suddenly a flash of lightning flame  
From angry skies strake captain Capaney,  
That there down dead he fell, at sight whereof  
The gazers one were fraught with sudden fear.  
The rest, that strove to mount the walls so fast,  
From ladders top did headlong tumble down.  
Herewith our men encouraged by good hap,  
Took hardy hearts, and so repulsed the Greeks.  
There was Eteocles and I with him,  
Who setting first those soldiers to their charge,  
Ran straight to tother gates, unto the weak  
He manly comfort gave, unto the bold  
His lusty words increased courage still,  
In so much as th'amazed Grecian king  
When he did hear of Capaney his death,  
Fearing thereby the Gods became his foen  
Out from the trench withdrew his weary host.  
But rash Eteocles (presuming too too much  
Upon their flight) did issue out of Thebes,  
And forward straight with strength of chivalry,  
His flying foes courageously pursued.  
To long it were to make recount of all  
That wounded been, or slain, or captive now,  
The cloudy air was filled round about  
With howling cries and woeful wailing plaints:  
So great a slaughter (O renowned Queen)  
Before this day I think was never seen.  
Thus have we now cut of the fruitless hope  
The Grecians had, to sack this noble town.  
What joyful end will happen hereunto  
Yet know I not: the gods turn all to good.  
"To conquer, lo, is doubtless worthy praise,  
" But wisely for to use the conquest got,  
"Hath ever won immortal sound of fame  
Well, yet therewhile in this we may rejoice,  
Sith heaven and heavenly powers are pleased therewith.  Ioca. 
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.  Nun. 
No more (O Queen) let this for now suffice,  
Sith hitherto your state is safe enough.  Ioca. 
Those words of thine, do whelm my jealous mind  
With great suspect of other mischiefs hid.  Nun. 
What would ye more, already being sure  
That both your sons in safety do remain?  Ioca. 
I long to know the rest, or good or bad.  Nun. 
O let me now return to Eteocles,  
That of my service greatly stands in need.  Ioca. 
Right well I see, thou dost conceal the worst.  Nun. 
Oh force me not, the good now being passed,  
To tell the ill.  Ioca. 
Tell it I say, on pain of our displeasure.  Nun. 
Since thus ye seek to hear a doleful tale,  
I will no longer stay: wit ye therefore,  
Your desperate sons together be agreed  
For to attempt a wicked enterprise,  
To private fight they have betrothed themselves,  
Of which conflict, the end must needs be this,  
That one do live, that other die the death.  Ioca. 
Alas, alas, this did I ever fear.  Nun. 
Now, sith in sum I have revealed that,  
Which you have heard with great remorse of mind,  
I will proceed, at large to tell the while.  
When your victorious son, with valiant force  
Had chaste his foes into their joining tents,  
Even there he staid, and straight at sound of trump  
With stretched voice the herald thus proclaimed:  
You princely Greeks, that hither be arrived  
To spoil the fruit of these our fertile fields,  
And us to drive from this our Native soil,  
O suffer not so many guiltless souls  
By this debate descend in Stygian lake,  
For private cause of wicked Pollinice,  
But rather let the brethren, hand to hand,  
By mutual blows appease their furious rage,  
And so to cease from shedding further blood:  
And, to the end you all might understand  
The profit that to every side may fall,  
Thus much my Lord thought good to proffer you,  
This is his will, if he be overcome,  
Than Polynice to rule this kingly realm:  
If so it hap (as reason would it should)  
Our rightful prince to conquer Polynice,  
That then no one of you make more ado,  
But straight to Argos. I'll haste home again.  
This, thus pronounced unto the noble Greeks,  
No sooner did the sound of trumpet cease,  
But Polynice stepped forth before the host,  
And to these words this answer did he make:  
O thou, (not brother) but my mortal foe,  
Thy proffer here hath pleased me so well,  
As presently, without more long delay,  
I yield myself prepared to the field.  
Our noble King no sooner heard this vaunt,  
But forth as fast he priest his princely steps,  
With eager mind, as hovering falcon wonts  
To make her stoop, when prey appears in fight:  
At all assays they both were bravely armed,  
To either's side his sword fast being girt,  
In either's hand was put a sturdy lance:  
About Eteocles our soldiers clung,  
To comfort him, and put him then in mind,  
He fought for safety of his country soil,  
And that in him consisted all their hope.  
To Polynice the king Adrastus swore,  
If he escaped victor from the field,  
As his return he would in Greece erect  
A golden Image unto mighty jove  
In sign of his triumphing victory:  
But all this while seek you (O noble queen)  
To hinder this your furious sons attempt.  
Entreat that Gods it may not take effect,  
Else must you needs ere long deprived be  
Of both your sons, or of the one at least.  Nuntius returneth to the camp by the gates Homoloides. JOCASTA. ANTIGONE. 
ANtigone my sweet daughter, come forth  
Out of this house, that nought but woe retains,  
Come forth I say, not for to sing or dance,  
But to prevent (if in our powers it lie)  
That thy malicious brethren (swollen with ire)  
And I alas, their miserable mother,  
Be not destroyed by stroke of dreadful death.  Antigone cometh out of her mother's Palace. Anti. 
Ah sweet mother, ah my beloved mother,  
Alas alas what cause doth move ye now  
From trembling voice to send such careful cries?  
What painful pang? what grief doth gripe you now?  Ioca. 
O dear daughter, thy most unhappy brethren  
That sometimes lodged within these wretched loins  
Shall die this day, if jove prevent it not.  Anti. 
Alas what say you? alas what do you say?  
Can I (alas) endure to see him dead,  
Whom I thus long have sought to see alive?  Ioca. 
They both have vowed (I quake alas to tell)  
With trenchant blade to spill each other's blood.  
O 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.  Ioca. 
Daughter no more delay, let's go, let's go.  Anti. 
Ah my sweet mother, whither shall I go?  Ioca. 
With me, dear daughter, to the greekish host,  Anti. 
Alas how can I go? unless I go  
In danger of my life, or of good name?  Ioca. 
Time serves not now (my well-beloved child)  
To way the loss of life or honest name,  
But rather to prevent (if so we may)  
That wicked deed, which only but to think,  
Doth hale my heart out of my heavy breast.  Anti. 
Come then, let's go, good mother let us go,  
But what shall we be able for to do,  
You a weak old woman for worn with years,  
And I God knows a silly simple maid?  Ioca. 
Our woeful words, our prayers & our plaints,  
Poured 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,  
Than I atwixt them both will throw myself,  
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, dear child, with dolour shalt bewail,  
Thy brother's death and mother's all at once.  locasta with Antigone, and all her train (except the Chorus) goeth towards the camp, by the gates Homoloydes. CHORUS. 
WHo so hath felt, what fervent love  
A mother bears unto her tender sons,  
She and none other sure, can comprehend  
The doleful grief, the pangs and secret pain,  
That presently doth pierce the princely breast  
Of our afflicted Queen: alas, I think  
No martyrdom might well compare with hers.  
So oft as I record her restless state,  
Alas methinks I feel a shivering fear  
Flit to and fro along my flushing veins.  
Alas for ruth, that thus two brethren should,  
Enforce themselves to shed each other's blood.  
Where is the laws of nature now become?  
Can flesh of flesh, alas, can blood of blood,  
So far forget itself, as slay itself?  
O lowering stars, O dim and angry skies,  
O guilty fate, such mischief set aside.  
But if supernal powers decreed have,  
That death must be the end of this debate,  
Alas what floods of tears shall then suffice,  
To weep and wail the near approaching death:  
I mean the death of sons and mother both,  
And with their death the ruin and decay,  
Of Oedipus and all his princely race?  
But lo, here Creon comes with careful cheer.  
'Tis time that now I end my just complaint.  Creon cometh in by the gates Homoloydes. CREON NUNCIUS. 
ALthough I straightly charged my tender child  
To fly from Thebes for safeguard of himself,  
And that long since he parted from my sight,  
Yet do I greatly hand in lingering doubt,  
lest passing through the gates, the privy watch  
Hath stayed him by some suspect of treason.  
And so therewhile, the prophets having scried  
His hidden fate, he purchased have the death  
Which I by all means sought he might eschew:  
And this mischance so much I fear the more,  
How much the wished conquest at the first,  
Fell happily unto the town of Thebes.  
"But wise men ought with patience to sustain  
" The sundry haps that slippery fortune frames.  Nuncius cometh in by the gates Electrae. Nun. 
Alas, who can direct my hasty steps  
Unto the brother of our woeful Queen?  
But lo where carefully he standeth here.  Cre. 
If so the mind may dread his own mishap,  
Then dread I much, this man that seeks me thus,  
Hath brought the death of my beloved son.  Nun. 
My Lord, the thing you fear is very true,  
Your son Meneceus no longer lives.  Cre. 
Alas who can withstand the heavenly powers?  
Well, it beseems not me, x yet my years,  
In bootless plaint to waste my wailful tears:  
Do thou recount to me his luckless death,  
The order, form, and manner of the same.  Nun. 
Your son (my Lord) came to Eteocles,  
And told him this in presence of the rest,  
renowned King, neither your victory,  
x yet the safety of this princely Realm  
In armour doth consist, but in the death  
Of me, of me, (O most victorious King)  
So heavenly doom of mighty jove commands,  
I (knowing what avail my death should yield  
Unto your grace, and unto native land)  
Might well be deemed a most ungrateful son  
Unto this worthy town, if I would shun  
The sharpest death to do my country good,  
In mourning weed now let the vestal nymphs,  
With fawning tunes commend my faultless ghost  
To highest heavens, while I despoil myself,  
That afterward (sith Jove will have it so)  
To save your lives, I may receive my death.  
Of you I crave, O courteous Citizens,  
To shrine my corpse in tomb of marble stone,  
Whereon grave this: Meneceus here doth lie,  
For country's cause that was content to die.  
This said, alas, he made no more ado,  
But drew his sword and sheathed it in his breast.  Cre. 
No more, I have enough, return ye now  
From whence ye came.  Nuncius returneth by the gates Electrae. 
Well, since the blood of my beloved son,  
Must serve to slake the wrath of angry jove,  
And since his only death must bring to Thebes  
A quiet end of her unquiet state,  
methinks good reason would, that I henceforth,  
Of Theban soil should bear the kingly sway,  
Yea sure, and so I will ere it be long,  
Either by right, or else by force of arms.  
Of all mishap lo here the wicked brood,  
My sister first espoused hath her son  
That slew his sire, of whose accursed seed  
Two brethren sprang, whose raging hateful hearts,  
By force of boiling ire are bollen so sore  
As each do thirst to suck the other's blood:  
But why do I sustain the smart hereof?  
Why should my blood he spilled for others guilt?  
Oh welcome were that messenger to me  
That brought me word of both my nephews deaths,  
Then should it soon be seen in every eye,  
Twixt prince and prince what difference would appear,  
Then should experience show what grief it is  
To serve the humours of unbridled youth.  
Now will I go for to prepare with speed  
The funerals of my young guiltless son,  
The which perhaps may be accompanied  
With th'obsequies of proud Eteocles.  Creon goeth out by the gates Homoloydes. 
Finis Actus. 4.  CHORUS. 

O Blissful concord, bred in sacred breast  
Of him that guides the restless rolling sky,  
That to the earth for man's assured rest  
From height of heavens vouchsafest down to fly,  
In thee alone the mighty power doth lie,  
With sweet accord to keep the frowning stars  
And every planet else from hurtful wars.   

In thee, in thee such noble virtue bides,  
As may command the mightiest Gods to bend,  
From thee alone such sugared friendship slides  
As mortal wights can scarcely comprehend,  
To greatest strife thou setst delightful end.  
O holy peace, by thee are only found  
The passing joys that everywhere abound.   

Thou only thou, through thy celestial might,  
Didst first of all the heavenly pole divide,  
From th'old confused heap that chaos height:  
Thou madest the Sun, the Moon, and stars to glide,  
With ordered course about this world so wide:  
Thou hast ordained Dan Titan's shining light,  
By dawn of day to chase the darksome night.   

When tract of time returns the lusty Ver,  
By thee alone, the buds and blossoms spring,  
The fields with flowers be garnished everywhere,  
The blooming trees, abundant fruit do bring,  
The cheerful birds melodiously do sing,  
Thou dost appoint, the crop of summers seed  
For man's relief, to serve the winter's need.   

Thou dost inspire the hearts of princely peers  
By providence, proceeding from above,  
In flowering youth to choose their worthy fears,  
With whom they live in league of lasting love,  
Till fearful death doth flitting life remove:  
And look how fast, to death man pays his due,  
So fast again, dost thou his stock renew.   

By thee, the basest thing advanced is,  
Thou everywhere, dost graff such golden peace,  
As filleth man, with more than earthly bliss,  
The earth by thee, doth yield her sweet increase  
At beck of thee, all bloody discords cease,  
And mightiest Realms in quiet do remain,  
Whereas thy hand, doth hold the royal reign.   

But if thou fail, than all things gone to wrack,  
The mother then, doth dread her natural child,  
Than every town is subject to the sack,  
Then spotless maids, than virgins be defiled,  
Then rigor rules, than reason is exiled:  
And this, thou woeful Thebes, to our great pain,  
With present spoil, art likely to sustain.   

methink I hear the wailful weeping cries  
Of wretched dames, in every coast resound,  
methinks I see, how up to heavenly skies  
From battered walls, the thundering claps rebound  
methink I hear, how all things go to ground,  
methink I see, how soldiers wounded lie  
With gasping breath, and yet they can not die.   

By means whereof, oh sweet Meneceus he,  
That gives for country's cause his guiltless life,  
Of others all, most happy shall he be:  
His ghost shall flit, from broils of bloody strife,  
To heavenly bliss, where pleasing joys be rife:  
And would to God, that this his fatal end  
From further plagues, our city might defend.   

O sacred God, give ear unto thy thrall,  
That humbly here upon thy name doth call,  
O let not now, our faultless blood be spilled,  
For hot revenge of any other's gilt.   Done by F. Kinwelmarshe. 
Finis Actus quarti.    

The order of the last dumb show.  
FIrst the Stillpipes sounded a very mournful melody, in which time came upon the Stage a woman clothed in a white garment, on her head a pillar, double faced, the foremost face fair & smiling, the other behind black & louring, muffled with a white lawn about her eyes, her lap full of jewels, sitting in a chariot, her legs naked, her feet set upon a great round ball, & being drawn in by iv noble personages, she led in a string on her right hand ii kings crowned, and in her left hand ii poor slaves very meanly attired. After she was drawn about the stage, she stayed a little, changing the kings unto the left hand & the slaves unto the right hand, taking the crowns from the king's heads she crowned therewith the ij. slaves, & casting the vile clothes of the slaves upon the kings, she despoiled the kings of their robes, and therewith appareled the slaves. This done, she was drawn eftsoons about the stage in this order, and then departed, leaving unto us a plain Type or figure of unstable fortune, who doth oftentimes raise to height of dignity the vile and unnoble, and in like manner throweth down from the place of promotion, even those whom before she herself had thither advanced: after her departure came in Duke Creon with four gentlemen waiting upon him, and lamented the death of Meneceus his son in this manner.   

Actus. v.  

Scena. i.  CREON. CHORUS. 
ALas what shall I do? bemoan myself?  
Or rue the ruin of my Native land,  
About the which such clouds I see enclosed  
As darker cannot cover dreadful hell.  
With mine own eyes I saw my own dear son  
All gored with blood of his too bloody breast,  
Which he hath shed full like a friend, too dear  
To his country, and yet a cruel foe  
To me that was his friend and father both.  
Thus to himself he gained a famous name,  
And glory great, to me redoubted pain,  
Whose hapless death in my afflicted house,  
Hath put such plaint, as I x can espy  
What comfort might acquit their distress.  
I hither come my sister for to seek,  
jocasta, she that might in woeful wise  
Amid her high and overpining cares  
Prepare the baynes for his so wretched corpse,  
And eke for him that now is not in life,  
May pay the due that to the dead pertains,  
And for the honour he did well deserve,  
The give some gifts unto infernal Gods.  Cho. 
My Lord, your sister is gone forth long since,  
Into the camp, and with her Antigone  
Her daughter dear.  Cre. 
Into the camp? alas and what to do?  Cho. 
She understood, that for this realm forthwith  
Her sons were 'greed in combat for to join.  Cre. 
Alas, the funerals of my dear son  
Dismayed me so, that I x did receive,  
x seek to know these new unwelcome news.  
But lo, behold a plain apparent sign  
Of further fears, the furious troubled looks  
Of him that cometh here so hastily.   

Scena. ij.  NVNTIVS. CREON. CHORUS. 
ALas, alas what shall I do? alas,  
What shrieking voice may serve my woeful words?  
O wretched I, ten thousand times a wretch,  
The messenger of dread and cruel death.  Cre. 
Yet more mishap? and what unhappy news?  Nun. 
My Lord, your nephews both have lost their lives.  Cre. 
Out and alas, to me and to this town  
Thou dost account great ruin and decay:  
You royal family of Oedipus,  
And hear you this? your liege and sovereign Lords  
The brethren both are slain and done to death.  Cho. 
O cruel news, most cruel that can come,  
O news that might these stony walls provoke  
For tender ruth to burst in bitter tears,  
And so they would, had they the sense of man.  Cre. 
O worthy young Lords, that unworthy were  
Of such unworthy death, O me most wretch.  Nun. 
More wretched shall ye deem yourself, my lord,  
When you shall hear of further misery.  Cre. 
And can there be more misery than this?  Nun. 
With her dear sons the queen herself is slain,  Cho. 
Bewail ladies, alas good ladies wail  
This hard mischance, this cruel common evil,  
x henceforth hope for ever to rejoice.  Cre. 
O jocasta, miserable mother,  
What hapless end thy life alas hath hent?  
Percase the heavens purveyed had the same,  
Moved thereto by the wicked wedlock  
Of Oedipus thy son, yet might thy 'scuse  
Be justly made, that knew not of the crime.  
But tell me messenger, oh tell me yet  
The death of these two brethren, driven thereto,  
Not thus all only by their dreary fate,  
But by the banning and the bitter curse  
Of their cruel sire, borne for our annoy,  
And here on earth the only source of evil.  Nun. 
Then know my Lord, the battle that begun  
Under the walls, was brought to lucky end,  
Eteocles had made his foemen flee  
Within their trenches, to their foul reproach:  
But herewithal the brethren straightway  
Each other challenge forth into the field,  
By combat so to stint their cruel strife,  
Who armed thus amid the field appeared.  
First Polynices' turning toward Gréece  
His lovely looks, 'gan juno thus beseech:  
O heavenly queen, thou seest, that since the day  
I first did wed Adrastus' daughter dear,  
And stayed in Gréece, thy servant have I been:  
Then (be it not for mine unworthiness)  
Grant me this grace, the victory to win,  
Grant me, that I with high triumphant hand,  
May bathe this blade within my brother's breast:  
I know I crave unworthy victory,  
Unworthy triumphs, and unworthy spoils,  
Lo he the cause, my cruel enemy.  
The people wept to hear the woeful words  
Of Pollinice, foreseeing eke the end  
Of this outrage and cruel combat ta'en,  
Each man 'gan look upon his drooping mate,  
With minds amazed, and trembling hearts for dread,  
Whom pity pierced for these youthful knights.  
Eteocles with eyes up cast to heaven.  
Thus said:  
O mighty love his daughter grant to me,  
That this right hand with this sharp armed lance  
Passing amid my brother's cankered breast,  
It may eke pierce that coward heart of his,  
And so him slay that thus unworthily  
Disturbs the quiet of our common weal.  
So said Eteocles, and trumpets blown,  
To send the summons of their bloody fight,  
That one the other fiercely did encounter,  
Like Lions two yfraught with boiling wrath,  
Both couched their lances full against the face,  
But heaven it nolde that there they should them taint:  
Upon the battered shields the mighty spears  
Are both ybroke, and in a thousand shivers  
Amid the air flown up into the heavens:  
Behold again, with naked sword in hand,  
Each one the other furiously assaults.  
Here they of Thebes, there stood the Greeks in doubt,  
Of whom doth each man feel more chilling dread,  
lest any of the twain should lose his life,  
Than any of the twain did feel in fight.  
Their angry looks, their deadly daunting blows,  
Might witness well, that in their hearts remained  
As cankered hate, disdain, and furious mood,  
As ever bred in bear or tigers breast.  
The first that happed to hurt was Polynice,  
Who smote the right thigh of Eteocles:  
But as we deem, the blow was nothing deep,  
Then cried the Greeks, and leapt with lightened hearts,  
But straight again they held their peace, for he  
Eteocles 'gan thrust his wicked sword  
In the left arm of unarmed Pollinice,  
And let the blood from thin unfenced flesh  
With falling drops distill upon the ground,  
x long he stays, but with another thrust  
His brother's belly bowelled with his blade,  
Then wretched he, with bridle left at large,  
From of his horse fell pale upon the ground,  
x long it was, but down our duke dismounts  
From of his startling steed, and runs in haste,  
His brothers hapless helm for to unlace,  
And with such hungry mind desired spoil,  
As one that thought the field already won:  
That at unwares, his brother's dagger drawn,  
And gripped fast within the dying hand,  
Under his side he reckless doth receive,  
That made the way to his wide open heart:  
Thus falls Eteocles his brother by,  
From both whose breasts the bloodfast bubbling, gave  
A sorry show to Greeks and Thebans both.  Cho. 
Oh wretched end of our unhappy Lords.  Cre. 
Oh Oedipus, I must be the death  
Of thy dear sons, that were my nephews both,  
But of these blows thou oughtest feel the smart,  
That with thy wonted prayers, thus hast brought  
Such noble bloods to this unnoble end.  
But now tell on, what followed of the Queen?  Nun. 
When thus with pierced hearts, by there own hands  
The brother's fell had wallowed in their blood,  
Th' one tumbling on the other's gore,  
Came their afflicted mother, then too late,  
And eke with her, her chaste child Antigone,  
Who saw no sooner how their fates had fallen,  
But with the doubled echo of alas,  
Sore dimmed the air with loud complaints and cries:  
Oh sons (quoth she) too late came all my help,  
And all to late have I my succour sent:  
And with these words, upon their carcase cold.  
She shrieked so, as might have stayed the Sun  
To mourn with her, the woeful sister eke,  
That both her cheeks did bathe in flowing tears,  
Out from the depth of her tormented breast,  
With scalding sighs 'gan draw these weary words:  
O my dear brethren, why abandon ye  
Our mother dear, when these her aged years,  
That of themselves are weak and grown with grief,  
Stood most in need of your sustaining help?  
Why do you leave her thus disconsolate?  
At sound of such her weeping long lament,  
Eteocles our king held up his hand,  
And sent from bottom of his woeful breast.  
A doubled sigh, divided with his grief,  
In faithful token of his feeble will  
To recomfort his mother and sister both:  
And in the stead of sweet contenting words,  
The trickling tears reigned down his paled cheeks:  
Then clasped his hands, and shut his dying eyes.  
But Pollinice that turned his rolling eyen  
Unto his mother and his sister dear,  
With hollow voice and fumbling tongue, thus spoke:  
Mother, you see how I am now arrived  
Unto the haven of mine unhappy end,  
Now nothing doth remain to me, but this,  
That I lament my sister's life and yours  
Left thus in everlasting woe and grief:  
So am I sorry for Eteocles,  
Who though he were my cruel enemy,  
He was your son, and brother yet to me:  
But since these ghosts of curs must needs go down  
With staggering steps into the Stygian reign,  
I you beseech, mother and sister both,  
Of pity yet, that you will me procure  
A royal tomb within my native realm,  
And now shut up with those your tender hands,  
These griefful eyes of mine, whose dazzled sight  
Shadows of dreadful death be come to close,  
Now rest in peace, thus said, he yielded up  
His fainting ghost, that ready was to part.  
The mother thus beholding both her sons  
Ygone to death, and overcome with dole,  
Drew out the dagger of her Polynices,  
From brother's breast, and gored her mother's throat  
Falling between her sons,  
Then with her feebled arms, she doth enfold  
Their bodies both, as if for company  
Her uncontented corpse were yet content  
To pass with them in Charon's ferry boat.  
When cruel fate had thus with force bereft  
The woeful mother and her two dear sons,  
All suddenly alarm alarm they cry,  
And hot conflict began for to arise  
Between our army and our enemies:  
For either part would have the victory.  
A while they did with equal force maintain  
The bloody fight, at last the Greeks do fly,  
Of whom could hardly any one escape,  
For in such hugy heaps our men them slew,  
The ground was covered all with carcases:  
And of our soldiers, some 'gan spoil the dead,  
Some other were that parted out the prey,  
And some pursuing Antigone took up  
The Queen Jocasta and the brethren both,  
Whom in a chariot hither they will bring  
Ere long: and thus, although we gotten have  
The victory over our enemies,  
Yet have we lost much more than we have won.  Creon exit. Cho. 
O hard mishap we do not only hear  
The weary news of their untimely death,  
But eke we must with wailing eyes behold  
Their bodies dead, for look where they be brought.   

Scena. 3.  ANTIGONE. CHORUS. 
MOst bitter plaint, O ladies, us behoves,  
behoveth eke not only bitter plaint,  
But that our hears dishevelled from our heads  
About our shoulders hang, and that our breasts  
With bouncing blows be all be battered,  
Our ghastly faces with our nails defaced:  
Behold, your Queen twixt both her sons lies slain,  
The Queen whom you did love and honour both,  
The Queen that did so tenderly bring up  
And nourish you, each one like to her own,  
Now hath she left you all (O cruel hap)  
With her too cruel death in dying dread,  
Pining with pensiveness without all help.  
O weary life, why bid'st thou in my breast,  
And I contented be that these mine eyes  
Should see her die that gave to me this life,  
And I not venge her death by loss of life?  
Who can me give a fountain made of moan,  
That I may weep as much as is my will,  
To souse this sorrow up in swelling tears?  Cho. 
What stony heart could leave for to lament?  Anti. 
O Polynice, now hast thou with thy blood  
Bought all too dear the title to this realm,  
That cruel he Eteocles thee rest,  
And now also hath reft thee of thy life,  
Alas, what wicked deed can wrath not do?  
And out alas for me,  
While thou yet livedst I had a lively hope  
To have some noble wight to be my fere,  
By whom I might be crowned a royal Queen:  
But now, thy hasty death hath done to die  
This dying hope of mine, that hope henceforth  
None other wedlock, but tormenting woe,  
If so these trembling hands for coward dread  
Dare not presume to end this wretched life.  Cho. 
Alas dear dame, let not thy raging grief  
Heap one mishap upon another's head.  Anti. 
O doleful day, wherein my sorry sire  
Was borne, and yet O more unhappy hour  
When he was crowned king of stately Thebes,  
The Hymenaei in unhappy bed,  
And wicked wedlock, wittingly did join  
The guiltless mother with her guilty son,  
Out of which root we be the branches borne,  
To bear the scourge of their so foul offence:  
And thou, O father, thou that for this fact,  
Haste torn chine eyes from thy tormented head,  
Give ear to this, come forth, and bend thine ear  
To bloody news, that canst not them behold:  
Happy in this, for if thine eyes could see  
Thy sons both slain, and even between them both  
Thy wife and mother dead, bathed and imbrued  
All in one blood, then wouldst thou die for dole,  
And so might end all our unlucky stock.  
But most unhappy now, that lack of sight  
Shall linger, life within thy luckless breast,  
And still tormented in such misery,  
Shall always die, because thou canst not die.  Oedipus entereth.  

Scena. iiij.  OEDIPUS. ANTIGONE. CHORUS. 
WHy dost thou call out of this darksome den,  
The lustless lodge of my lamenting years,  
O daughter dear, thy father's blinded eyes,  
Into the light I was not worthy of?  
Or what such sight (O cruel destiny)  
Without tormenting cares might I behold,  
That image am of death and not of man?  Anti. 
O father mine, I bring unlucky news  
Unto your ears, your sons are now both slain,  
x doth your wife, that wonted was to guide  
So piteously your stayless stumbling steps,  
Now see this light, alas and wellaway.  Oed. 
O heap of infinite calamities,  
And canst thou yet increase when I thought least  
That any grief more great could grow in thee?  
But tell me yet, what kind of cruel death  
Had these three sorry souls?  Anti. 
Without offence to speak, dear father mine,  
The luckless lot, the froward frowning fate  
That gave you life to end your father's life,  
Have led your sons to reave each other's life.  Oed. 
Of them I thought no less, but tell me yet  
What causeless death hath caught from me my dear,  
(What shall I call her) mother or my wife?  Anti. 
whenas my mother saw her dear sons dead,  
As pensive pangs had priest her tender heart,  
With bloodless cheeks and ghastly looks she fell,  
Drawing the dagger from Eteocles' side,  
She gored herself with wide recureless wound:  
And thus, without more words, gave up the ghost,  
Embracing both her sons with both her arms.  
In these affrights this frozen heart of mine,  
By fear of death maintains my dying life.  Cho. 
This dreary day is cause of many evils,  
Poor Oedipus, unto thy progeny.  
The Gods yet grant it may become the cause  
Of better hap to this afflicted realm.   

Scena. v.  CREON. OEDIPUS. ANTIGONE. 
GOod Ladies leave your bootless vain complaint  
Leave to lament, cut of your woeful cries,  
High time it is as now for to provide  
The funerals for the renowned king:  
And thou Oedipus hearken to my words,  
And know thus much, that for thy daughter's dower,  
Antigone with Haemon shall wed.  
Thy son our king not long before his death  
Assigned hath the kingdom should descend  
To me, that am his mother's brother borne,  
And so the same might to my son succeed.  
Now I that am the lord and king of Thebes,  
Will not permit that thou abide therein:  
x marvel yet of this my heady will,  
x blame thou me, for why, the heavens above,  
Which only rule the rolling life of man,  
Have so ordained, and that my words be true,  
Tiresias he that knoweth things to come,  
By trusty tokens hath foretold the town,  
That while thou didst within the walls remain,  
It should be plagued still with penury:  
Wherefore depart, and think not that I speak  
These woeful words for hate I bear to thee,  
But for the weal of this afflicted realm.  
O foul accursed fate, that hast me bred  
To bear the burden of the misery  
Of this cold death, which we account for life:  
Before my birth my father understood  
I should him slay, and scarcely was I borne,  
When he me made a prey for savage beasts.  
But what? I slew him yet, then caught the crown,  
And last of all defiled my mother's bed,  
By whom I have this wicked offspring got:  
And to this heinous crime and filthy fact  
The heavens have from high enforced me,  
Against whose doom no counsel can prevail.  
Thus hath I now my life, and last of all,  
Lo by the news of this so cruel death  
Of both my sons and dear beloved wife,  
Mine angry constellation me commands  
Withouten eyes so wander in mine age,  
When these my weary, weak, and crooked limbs  
Have greatest need to crave their quiet rest.  
O cruel Creon, wilt thou slay me so,  
For cruelly thou dost but murder me,  
Out of my kingdom now to chase me thus:  
Yet can I not with humble mind beseech  
Thy courtesy, x fall before thy feet.  
Let fortune take from me these worldly gifts,  
She can not conquer this courageous heart,  
That never yet could well be overcome,  
To force me yield for fear to villainy:  
Do what thou canst I will be Oedipus.  Cre. 
So hast thou reason Oedipus, to say,  
And for my part I would thee counsel eke,  
Still to maintain the high and haughty mind,  
That hath dene even in thy noble heart:  
For this be sure, if thou wouldst kiss these knees,  
And practise eke by prayer to prevail,  
No pity could persuade me to consent  
That thou remain one only hour in Thebes.  
And now, prepare you worthy Citizens,  
The funerals that duly do pertain  
Unto the Queen, and to Eteocles,  
And eke for them provide their stately tombs.  
But Pollynice, as common enemy  
Unto his country, carry forth his corpse  
Out of the walls, x none so hardy be  
On pain of death his body to engrave,  
But in the fields let him unburied lie,  
Without his honour, and without complaint,  
An open pray for savage beasts to spoil.  
And thou Antigone, dry up thy tears,  
Pluck up thy sprites, and cheer thy harmless heart.  
To marriage: for ere these two days pass,  
Thou shalt espouse Haemon mine only heir.  Antig. 
Father, I see us wrapped in endless woe,  
And now much more do I your state lament,  
Than these that now be dead, not that I think  
Their great mishaps too little to bewail,  
But this, that you, you only do surpass  
All wretched wights that in this world remain.  
But you my Lord, why banish you with wrong  
My father thus out of his own perforce?  
And why will you deny these guiltless bones  
Of Polynice, their grave in country soil?  Creon. 
So would not I, so would Eteocles.  Anti. 
He cruel was, you fond to hold his hests.  Creon. 
Is then a fault to do a king's command?  Anti. 
When his command is cruel and unjust.  Creon. 
Is it unjust that he unburied be?  Anti. 
He not deserved so cruel punishment.  Creon. 
He was his countries cruel enemy.  Anti. 
Or else was he that held him from his right.  Cre. 
Bare he not arms against his native land?  Anti. 
Offendeth he that seeks to win his own?  Cre. 
Perforce to thee he shall unburied be.  Anti. 
Perforce to thee these hands shall bury him.  Cre. 
And with him eke then will I bury thee.  Anti. 
So grant the gods, I get none other grave,  
Then with my Polynices dear to rest.  Cre. 
Go sirs, lay hold on her, and take her in.  Anti. 
I will not leave this corpse unburied.  Cre. 
Canst thou undo the thing that is decreed?  Anti. 
A wicked foul decree to wrong the dead.  Cre. 
The ground x shall x ought to cover him.  Anti. 
Creon, yet I beseech thee for the love.  Cre. 
Away I say, thy prayers not prevail.  Anti. 
That thou didst bear jocasta in her life,  Cre. 
Thou dost but waste thy words amid the wind.  Anti. 
Yet grant me leave to wash his wounded corpse.  Cre. 
It can not be that I should grant thee so.  Anti. 
O my dear Polynice, this tyrant yet  
With all his wrongful force can not fordo,  
But I will kiss these cold pale lips of thine,  
And wash thy wounds with my waymenting tears.  Cre. 
O simple wench, O fond and foolish girl,  
Beware, beware, thy tears do not foretell  
Some sign of hard mishap unto thy marriage.  Anti. 
No, no for Haemon will I never wed.  Cre. 
Dost thou refuse the marriage of my son?  Anti. 
I will nor him, nor any other wed.  Cre. 
Against thy will then must I thee constrain.  Anti. 
If thou me force, I swear thou shalt repent.  Cre. 
What canst thou cause that I should once repent.  Anti. 
With bloody knife I can this knot unknit.  Cre. 
And what a fool were thou to kill thyself?  Anti. 
I will ensue some worthy woman's steps.  Cre. 
Speak out Antigone, that I may hear.  Anti. 
This hardy hand shall soon dispatch his life.  Cre. 
O simple fool, and darest thou be so bold?  Anti. 
Why should I dread to do so doughty deed?  Cre. 
And wherefore dost thou wedlock so despise?  Anti. 
In cruel exile for to follow him.  pointing to Oedipus. Cre. 
What others might beseem, beseems not thee.  Anti. 
If need require, with him eke will I die.  Cre. 
Depart, depart, and with thy father die,  
Rather than kill my child with bloody knife:  
Go hellish monster, go out of the town.  Creon exit. Oedi. 
Daughter, I must commend thy noble heart.  Anti. 
Father, I will never come in company  
And you alone wander in wilderness.  Oedi. 
O yes dear daughter, leave thou me alone  
Amid my plagues: be merry while thou mayst.  Anti. 
And who shall guide these aged feet of yours,  
That banished been, in blind necessity?  Oedi. 
I will endure, as fatal lot me drives,  
Resting these crooked sorry sides of mine  
Where so the heavens shall lend me harborough.  
And in exchange of rich and stately towers,  
The woods, the wilderness, the darksome dens  
shallbe the bower of mine unhappy bones.  Anti. 
O father, now where is your glory gone?  Oedi. 
"One happy day did raise me to renown,  
" One hapless day hath thrown mine honour down.  Anti. 
Yet will I bear a part of your mishaps.  Oedi. 
That sitteth not amid thy pleasant years.  Anti. 
"Dear father yes, let youth give place to age.  Oedi. 
Where is thy mother? let me touch her face,  
That with these hands I may yet feel the harm  
That these blind eyes forbid me to behold.  Anti. 
Here father, here her corpse, here put your hand.  Oedi. 
O wife, O mother, O both woeful names,  
O woeful mother, and O woeful wife,  
O would to God, alas, O would to God  
Thou near had been my mother, nor my wife.  
But where lie now the paled bodies two,  
Of mine unlucky sons, Oh where be they?  Anti. 
Lo here they lie one by another dead.  Oedip. 
Stretch out this hand, dear daughter, stretch this hand  
Upon their faces.  Anti. 
Lo father, here, lo, now you touch them both.  Oedi. 
O bodies dear, O bodies dearly bought  
Unto your father, bought with high mishap.  Anti. 
O lovely name of my dear Pollinice,  
Why can I not of cruel Creon crave,  
x with my death now purchase thee a grave?  Oedi. 
Now comes Apollo's oracle of pass,  
That I in Athens town should end my days:  
And since thou dost, O daughter mine, desire  
In this exile to be my woeful mate,  
Lend me thy hand, and let us go together.  Anti. 
Lo, here all priest my dear beloved father,  
A feeble guide, and eke a simple scout,  
To pass the perils in a doubtful way.  Oedi. 
Unto the wretched, be a wretched guide.  Anti. 
In this all only equal to my father.  Oedi. 
And where shall I set forth my trembling feet?  
O reach me yet some surer staff, to stay  
My staggering pace amid these ways unknown.  Anti. 
Here father here, and here set forth your feet.  Oedi. 
Now can I blame none other for my harms  
But secret spite of foredecreed fate,  
Thou art the cause, the crooked, old and blind,  
I am exiled far from my country soil,  
And suffer dole that I might not endure.  Anti. 
"O father, father, justice lies on sleep,  
" x doth regard the wrongs of wretchedness,  
"x princes swelling pride it doth redress.  Oedi. 
O careful caitiff, how am I now changed  
From that I was? I am that Oedipus,  
That whilom had triumphant victory,  
And was both dread and honoured eke in Thebes:  
But now (so pleaseth you my froward stars)  
Down headlong hurled in depth of misery,  
So that remains of Oedipus no more  
As now in me, but even the naked name,  
And lo, this image, that resembles more  
Shadows of death, than shape of Oedipus.  Antig. 
O father, now forget the pleasant days  
And happy life that you did whilom lead,  
The muse whereof redoubleth but your grief:  
Sustain the smart of these your present pains  
With patience, that best may you preserve.  
Lo where I come, to live and die with you,  
Not (as sometimes) the daughter of a king,  
But as an abject now in poverty,  
That you, by presence of such faithful guide,  
May better bear the wrack of misery.  Oedi. 
O only comfort of my cruel hap.  Anti. 
Your daughter's pity is but due to you:  
Would God I might as well engrave the corpse  
Of my dear Pollinice, but I x may,  
And that I can not, doubleth all my dole.  Oedi. 
This thy desire, that is both good and just,  
Impart to some that be thy trusty friends,  
Who moved with pity, may procure the same.  Anti. 
"Believe me father, when dame fortune frowns,  
" Be few that find trusty companions.  Oedi. 
And of those few, yet one of those am I:  
Wherefore, go we now daughter, lead the way  
Into the stony rocks and highest hills,  
Where fewest tracks our steppings may be spied.  
"Who once hath sit in chair of dignity,  
" May shame to show himself in misery.  Anti. 
From thee, O country, am I forced to part,  
Despoiled thus in flower of my youth,  
And yet I leave within mine enemies rule  
Ismene my infortunate sister.  Oed. 
Dear Citizens, behold your lord and king  
That Thebes set in quiet government,  
Now as you see, neglected of you all,  
And in these ragged ruthful weeds bewrapt,  
Ychased from his native country soil,  
Betakes himself (for so this Tyrant will)  
To everlasting banishment: but why  
Do I lament my luckless lot in vain?  
"Since every man must bear with quiet mind,  
" The fate that heavens have erst to him assigned.  CHORUS. 
EXample here, lo take by Oedipus,  
You kings and princes in prosperity,  
And every one that is desirous  
To sway the seat of worldly dignity,  
How fickle is to trust in fortune's wheel:  
For him, whom now she hoisteth up on high,  
If so be chance on any side to reel,  
She hurls him down in twinkling of an eye:  
And him again, that growleth now on ground,  
And lieth low in dungeon of despair,  
Her whirling wheel can heave up at a bound,  
And place aloft in stay of stately chair.  
As from the Sun the Moon withdraws her face,  
So might of man doth yield dame fortune place,  
Finis Actus quinti.    

Epilogus.  
LO here the fruit of high aspiring mind,  
Who weens to mount above the moving skies:  
Lo here the trap that titles proud do find,  
See, ruin grows when most we reach to rise:  
Sweet is the name, and stately is the reign  
Of kingly rule, and sway of royal seat,  
But bitter is the taste of PRINCE's gain,  
When climbing heads do hunt for to be great.  
Who would forecast the bank of restless toil,  
Ambitious wights do freight their breasts withal,  
The growing cares, the fears of dreadful foil,  
The evil success that on such flight's do fall,  
He would not stain his practice to achieve  
The largest limits of the mightiest states.  
But oh, what fancies sweet do still relieve  
The hungry humour of these swelling hates?  
What poison sweet inflameth high desire?  
How soon the haughty heart is puffed with pride?  
How soon is thirst of sceptre set on fire?  
How soon in rising minds doth mischief slide?  
What bloody stirs doth glut of honour breed?  
th'ambitious son doth oft surpress his sire:  
Where nature's power unfeigned love should spread,  
There malice reigns and reacheth to be higher.  
O blind unbridled search of Sovereignty,  
O tickle train of evil attained state,  
O fond desire of princely dignity,  
Who climbs too soon, he oft repents too late.  
The golden mean the happy doth suffice,  
They leave the posting day in rare delight,  
They fill (not feed) their uncontended eyes,  
They reap such rest as doth beguile the might,  
They not envy the pomp of haughty reign,  
x dread the dint of proud usurping sword,  
But placed allow, more sugared joys attain,  
Than sway of lofty Sceptre can afford.  
Cease to aspire then, cease to soar so high,  
And shun the plague that pierceth noble breasts:  
To glittering courts what fondness is to flee,  
When better state in baser Towers rests?  Done by Chr. Yelverton. 
Finis Epilogi,