THE FIFTH TRAGEDY OF SENECA, ENGLISHED The year of our Lord M. LX.  BY ALEXANDER NEVYLE. 

TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE, master DOCTOR WOTTON: ONE OF THE queen's majesties privy Counsel: Alexander Nevil wisheth Health, with increase of Honour.  
THis sixteenth year of mine age (right honourable) reneweth a grateful memory of your great goodness towards me: (for at Baptism your honour vouchsafed to answer for me): and causeth me thus boldly to present these green and unmellowed fruits of my first travails unto you: as signs and testimonies of a well disposed mind unto your honour. Albeit when first I undertook the translation of this present Tragedy, I minded nothing less, than that at any time thus rudely transformed it should come into the Printers hands. For I to none other end removed him, from his natural and lofty style, to our corrupt and base, or as some men (but untruly) affirm it, most barbarous Language: but only to satisfy the instant requests of a few my familiar friends, who thought to have put it to the very same use, that SENECA himself in his Invention pretended: Which was by the tragical and Pompous show upon Stage, to admonish all men of their fickle Estates, to declare the unconstant head of wavering Fortune, her sudden interchanged and soon altered Face: and lively to express the just revenge, and fearful punishments of horrible Crimes, wherewith the wretched world in these our miserable days piteously swarmeth. This caused me not to be precise in following the Author, word for word: but sometimes by addition, sometimes by subtraction, to use the aptest Phrases in giving the Sense that I could invent. Whereat a great numbered (I know) will be more offended than Reason or Wisdom would they should be. Thus as I framed it to one purpose: so have my friends (to whom I can not well deny any thing that Friendships right may seem justly to require) wrested it to another effect: and by this means blown it abroad, by overrash and unadvised printing. By which fond deed I know undoubtedly I shall receive the poisoned infamies, of a number of venomous tongues, Wherefore (right honourable) as I give these the first Fruits of my travail unto you: declaring therein the great goodwill and duty that I owe unto your Honour, for the noble disposition of your virtuous mind: so am I driven humbly to require your strong aid, and assured defence against the slanderous assaults of such malicious mouths, which obtained: I shallbe the better encouraged against another time, to bestow my travail in matters of far greater weight and importance. In the mean season (desiring your Honour to take these simple Attempts of mine in good part:) I leave you to the tuition of the right high and mighty God: Who keep you long in health, & grant you many happy years: with increase of Honour.  
All your Honours to command. Alexander Nevil.   

❀ THE PREFACE TO the Reader.  
BEHOLD HERE BEFORE THY Face (good Reader) the most lamentable Tragedy of that most Infortunate Prince O Oedipus, for thy profit rudely translated. Wonder not at the grossness of the Style: neither yet account the Inventors Diligence disgraced by the Translators Negligence: Who though that he hath sometimes boldly presumed to err from his Author, roving at random where he list: adding and subtracting at pleasure: yet let not that engender disdainful suspicion with in thy learned breast. Mark thou rather what is meant by the whole course of the History: and frame thy life free from such mischiefs, wherewith the World at this present is universally overwhelmed, The wrathful vengeance of God provoked, the Body plagued, the mind and Conscience in midst of deep devouring dangers most terribly assaulted. In such sort that I abhor to write: and even at the thought thereof I tremble and quake for very inward grief and fear of mind: assuredly persuading myself that the right high and immortal God, will never leave such horrible and detestable crimes unpunished. As in this present Tragedy, and so forth in the process of the whole history, thou mayst right well perceive. Wherein thou shalt see, a very express and lively Image of the inconstant change of fickle Fortune in the person of a Prince of passing Fame and Renown, midst whole floods of earthly bliss: by mere misfortune (nay rather by the deep hidden secret judgements of God) piteously plunged in most extreme miseries. The whole Realm for his sake in strangest guise grievously plagued: besides the apparent destruction of the Nobility: the general death and spoil of the Commonalty: the miserable transformed Face of the City, with an infinite number of mischiefs more, which I pass over unrehearsed. Only wish I all men by this Tragical history (for to that intent was it written) to beware of Sin: the end whereof is shameful and miserable. As in the most infortunate fall of this unhappy Prince right plainly appeareth. Who by inward gripe of fearful consuming Conscience wretchedly tormented: beholding the lamentable state of his vile infected Realms, wasted by the burning rage of privy spoiling Pestilence, finds himself in tract of time, to be th'only plague & misery of the almost quite destroyed City. Whereupon calling together his Priests and Prophets, & asking counsel of the Gods by them, for present remedy in those evils, wherewith the Realm was then universally overflown: answer was made that the Plague should never cease, till king Laius' death were thoroughly revenged: and the bloody Murderer driven into perpetual exile. Which answer received, OEDIPUS, far more curious in bolting out the truth, than careful of his own Estate: suddenly slides into an innumerable company of dreadful miseries. For as soon as he had once the perfect view of his own detestable deeds, and wicked misdemeanour cast before his eyes, together with the unnatural killing of his Father LAIUS, the incestuous Marriage of his Mother JOCASTA, the preposterous order of his ill misguided life, with a hundred more like mischiefs, which chaste & undefiled ears abhor to hear: fretting Fury common enemy & tormentor to corrupted consciences pricking him forward, all inflamed with Frenzy and boiling in inward heat of vile infected mind, he rooteth out his wretched eyes unnaturally, bereaveth his Mother her life (though earnestly requested thereto) beastly, & in the end in most basest kind of slavery, banished, dieth miserably. Leaving behind him unto all posterities, a dreadful Example of God's horrible vengeance for sin. Such like terrors as these requireth this our present Age, wherein Vice hath chiefest place, & Virtue put to flight, lies as an abject, languishing in great extremity. For the which cause, so much the rather have I suffered this my base translated Tragedy to be published: from his Author in word & verse somewhat transformed, though in Sense little altered: and yet oftentimes rudely increased with mine own simple invention: more rashly (I confess) then wisely, wishing to please all: to offend none. But whereas no man lives so uprightly, whom slandering tongues leave undiffamed, I refer myself to the judgement of the wisest, little esteeming the prejudicial mouths of such carping Merchants, which suffer no men's doings almost to scape undefiled. In fine, I beseech all together (if so it might be) to bear with my rudeness, & consider the grossness of our own Country language, which can by no means aspire to the high lofty Latinist's style. Mine only intent was to exhort men to embrace Virtue and shun Vice, according to that of the right famous & excellent Poet Virgil  Discite justiciam moniti, & non temnere divos. 
This obtained: I hold myself thoroughly contented: In the mean season I end: wishing all men to shun Sin, the plain (but most perilous) pathway to perfect infelicity.   


The Speakers names.  
OEdipus.  
Chorus.  
Tiresias.  
Sanex.  
jocasta.  
Creon.  
Manto.  
Phorbas.  
[Nuntius]    

THE FIRST act.  OEDIPUS the King. JOCASTA the Queen. 
THe Night is gone: and dreadful day  
begins at length t'appear:  
And Phoebus all bedim'de with Clouds,  
himself aloft doth rear.  
And gliding forth with deadly hue,  
a doleful blaze in Skies  
Doth bear: Great terror & dismay  
to the beholder's Eyes.  
Now shall the houses void be seen, with Plague devoured quite?  
And slaughter that the night hath made, shall day bring forth to light.  
Doth any man in Princely throne rejoice? O brittle joy,  
How many ills? how fair a Face? and yet how much annoy  
In thee doth lurk, and hidden lies? what heaps of endless strife?  
They judge amiss, that deem the Prince to have the happy life.  
For as the Mountains huge and high, the blustering winds withstand.  
And craggy Rocks, the belching floods do dash, and drive fro land:  
Though that the Seas in quiet are, and calm on every side:  
So kingdoms great all Winds and Waves of Fortune must abide.  
How well shunned I my Father dear Polybius Sceptres late?  
Exiled, bereft of careful fear, in Pilgrim's happy state:  
I call the Gods to witness this, and Stars that glide in Skies.  
A Kingdom is befallen to me. I frare lest thereof rise  
A mischief, (mighty jove,) to great I fear, alas I fear  
lest these my hands have reft the life, or thee my Father dear.  
Apollo bids me this beware, and yet a mischief more Foretells.  IOC. 
Can any greater be than that you told before?  
Of Father slain by sons own hand?  OE. 
(O thrice unhappy state.)  
With horror all dismayed I stand in dread of threatened fate.  
I am ashamed my destinies foul (O Queen) to thunder out,  
And openly to blaze my fear my trembling mind doth doubt:  
Yet out it goes. Phoebus me bids my Mother's Bed to fly.  
As though that I her Son, with her incestuously should lie.  
This fear, and only this me caused my father's kingdom great  
For to forsake. I fled not thence when fear the mind doth beat.  
The restless thought still dreads the thing, it knows can never chance.  
Such fancies now torment my heart, my safety to advance,  
And eke thine ever sacred laws (O Nature) for to keep  
A stately Sceptre I forsook, yet secret fear doth creep  
Within my breast: and frets it still with doubt and discontent,  
And inward pangs which secretly my thoughts asunder rent.  
So though no cause of dread I see, yet fear and dread I all,  
And scant in credit with myself, my thoughts my mind appall  
That I cannot persuaded be though reason tell me no,  
But that the Web is weaving still of my decreed woe.  
For what should I suppose the cause? a Plague that is so general,  
And Cadmus country wholly spoils, and spreads itself through all?  
Should me, amongst so huge a heap of plagued Bodies spare?  
And we alone amongst the rest reserved to mischiefs are?  
O heavy hap. And bide I still alone the spoil to see?  
Of Cities great, of men, of beasts, by plague that wasted be?  
And thou amongst so many ills, a happy life to lead,  
Couldst once persuade thyself (O wretch) without all fear or dread.  
Of Phoebus secret judgements to, and that in kings estate?  
Thou, thou, infected hast the air, in such a filthy rate.  
Thou art the only cause of woe: by thee these evils rise,  
By thee to grave on such a sort, this wretched people plies.  
The fiery flaming frying heat, afflicted hearts that wastes,  
Is not relieved as wont it was by cold and pleasant blasts.  
The gentle western winds have left with healthful puffs to blow,  
And now the fiery Dog with blaze of boiling heat doth glow.  
The Sun in Leo burns so hot, and so the earth doth broil,  
That floods and herbs are dried up, and nought remains but soil,  
So thoroughly scorched and stewed with heat, that moisture all is gone,  
And now amongst so many floods, remains alas not one.  
The places dry are only seen the streams are drunken up.  
And water that doth yet remain: the soaking Earth doth sup.  
The Moon with clouds quite over cast, all sadly forth she glides,  
And doleful darksome shades of night the whole world over hides.  
No Star on high at all doth shine, but black and hellish hue  
Hath overshaded all the Skies, whence deadly mists ensue.  
The corn that wonted was to grow and fruitfully to spring,  
Now to the voided Barns nought else, but empty stalks doth bring.  
No part of all our kingdom is free from destruction:  
But all together run and rush, to utter confusion.  
The old men with the young (alas:) the Father with the child  
The plague consumes. Both man & wife, all beasts both tame & wild  
Are spoiled by the Pestilence. No pomp at all remains,  
That wonted was in Funerals, to ease the mourner's pains.  
Alas this spoil of people made, by plague hath dried mine eyes:  
And secretly within my breast, the grief it boiling fries.  
And that, that wonted is to hap, in most extremest ills:  
My tears are dry and glutting grief my wretched breast it fills.  
The crazed father bears the son, unto their dampish graves:  
And after him with burden like, the Mother comes and raves:  
And even lamenting as they stand, 〈…〉 both they fall,  
And mourners new in like estate, for them and theirs they call.  
Who likewise in the midst of all their toil and painful pain  
Do drop into the grave they digged, and so the place do gain  
That was prepared for others erst. A hell it were to here  
The horror, and the miseries that everywhere appear.  
A Tomb is made for noble men, fast on the people die,  
And in, their burdens fling. Great Pieres all unregarded lie.  
For lack of Graves, to Ashes clean their bodies some do waste:  
And some half burnt do leave them there, and home away for haste  
They run, & more they fetch, and then wood, fire, grave, and all  
Doth want. And down for very grief the wretched miser's fall.  
No prayers avail. No Art can help this raging Plague t'appease:  
For none almost is left alive each others woe to ease.  
Before thine altars here O God my feeble hands I hold,  
Requiring all my destinies, at once with courage bold.  
And that by death I may prevent, my Country priest to fall.  
For this, and only this (O God) upon thy name I call.  
Let me not be the last that dies: The last that goes to Grave.  
Grant this, and then (O mighty jove) my full request I have.  
O cruel Gods unkind: O more than thrice unhappy Fates:  
That only me denied is, that lights on all Estates.  
I mean a speedy death (alas) these evils to prevent  
And deadly woes that do my heart with restless rage torment.  
Leave of thy blubbering tears (O fool, )& fly these kingdoms foiled  
With rotten plagues & Botches boil, and graves each where despoiled.  
All which diseases thou unhappy guest didst bring with thee  
Dispatch. Away. Go hence. At least, unto thy parents flee.  IO. 
What boots it 〈…〉, great with piteous plaints to aggregate.  
Stoutly to bear adversity, 〈…〉 estate.  
When dread and danger most assail: when cruel Cares do crush  
Thy princely breast, then ought thou most to bear and bide the push.  
It is no point of courage slout to yield to fortune's frown.  OED. 
Nay, Fear could never cause me sloupe nor Fortune cast me down.  
My manly winds was never thrall to vain and peevish fears,  
But evermore in each 〈…〉 courage bears.  
No not a thousand glistering swords, nor Mars himself in field.  
Can once dismay my Countenance, or cause my heart to yield.  
The very Giants fierce and huge in fight withstand I dare.  
That Monster Sphinx whose riddles through the world renowned are,  
Could not dismay my deedless heart, nor cause my courage slide  
For all the terrors I behold. I did that Fury bide.  
I saw him belching Gobs of blood, I viewed full well the field  
That all to spattered lay with blood, and bones quite ouerheeled.  
And when that he on Mountains top with mouth full huge to see.  
Stood gaping all with greedy jaws to feed and pray on me,  
Oft fluttering with his fearful wings and shaking oft his raise,  
Began full like a Lion fierce with threats me to assail.  
Of whom straight way the Riddle I, it rushed into mine ears  
With roaring sound His wings he claps, the Rock for haste he tears.  
Desiring with my Bowels still his greedy jaws to glut:  
But I full soon assoiled had the question that he put.  
And all the subtle points there of, and twisted knots untwined.  IO. 
What makes you wish for death too late, and wave your words in wind.  
You might have died than (you know) for Sphinx so nobly slain.  
This kingdom unto you, and yours for ever shall remain.  OED. 
The ashes of that Monster vile, against us doth rebel.  
That vile misshapen loathsome Beast, that raging Fiend of Hell.  
Is cause of all the plague that doth this mournful City smite.  
Now only this remains alone, if Phoebus heavenly might,  
Can any means invent for us, or way of mercy make:  
Whereby these burning Plagues at length may haply chasice to slake.  Chorus. 
O More than thrice renowned Stock  
of ancient Cadmus' Race.  
O mighty Thebes City great,  
O heavy ruthful Case.  
Lo now you lie all desolate,  
with Plague devoured quite.  
Both you and all your Husbandmen.  
(Oh miserable sight.)  
O foul and fearful Fate (alas) what causeth all this aid?  
O God whence springs this Pestilence that us tormenteth so?  
No age, no shape, no form is spared, but all confounded lie.  
Thus happiest now the man I count, whose chance was first to die.  
For he hath shunned a thousand ills, which wretched Eyes have seen:  
And mischiefs great that us do press from him are taken clean.  
O God withhold thy fury great, thy Plagues from us remove.  
Cease of afflicted Souls to scourge, who thee, both serve and love.  
power down on them diseases foul, that them deserved have.  
A Guerdon just for sin (Oh God) this this of thee we crave,  
And only this. We ask no more, the cause and all is thine,  
A thing not used of Gods it is, from pity to decline.  
My heart doth vaunt, and trembling cold through all my limbs doth run,  
As oft as I remembering, count the noble Stocks undo,  
By death and doleful destinies that overwhelmed lie,  
And yet alas the people still to Grave do faster high.  
In long Array all in a rank by thousands on a row,  
On every side, in every street to burial fast, they go.  
The seven broad wide open Gates, are not enough forway,  
But thronged the people pestered stand still in a fearful stay,  
And in the midst of all their toil with corpses on their backs,  
The number that before doth post the hinder number slacks.  
The corpses in the streets do lie and Grave on Grave is made.  
But all in vain. For nought it boots the plague cannot be stayed.  
The sacrifices done to God's have to to ill success.  
And such strange sights & signs do rise that nought else I can guess,  
But that at hand with ghastly paws, is utter destruction,  
With thousand ills accompanied and extreme confusion.  
The sheep of rot by heaps as thick, as dogs do fall and die,  
And belching out their wasted lungs, on ground do sprawling lie.  
And I myself of late did see: (a sight unseen before,)  
As our high priest stood sacrificing at the Temple door,  
And strake with grievous bloody wound the golden horned Bull  
When down with lifeless lump he drops and members made full dull.  
And all the would wide bleeding gapes & black goar'sblood out spews.  
And yet the blade unsprinkled was. The blood it boiling fiues  
And bubbles on the ground. Alas what do these things portend?  
Oh mighty jove at length vouchsafe some good and happy end.  
At length withhold thy hand (O God) and health unto us send.  
Nothing (alas) remains at all, in wonted old estate,  
But all are turned topset down, quite void and desolate  
The fainting horse for 〈…〉 back his burden tats.  
And after on his masters breast his lifeless limbs he squats:  
Who cries for help :but all in vain the beasts in field that bide  
Unkept: unknown ways and path do range and overstride.  
The Bull 〈…〉 and meat are in field all fainting lies.  
And, all his flock dispersed quite the fely Shephard dies.  
The herdman eke amongst his beasts his fatal breath expires  
And to the heavens with piteous cries commends his last desters.  
The hearts without without fear of wolves do live in wretched peace.  
The rage, and wrathful roaring sounds of ramping Lions cease.  
The vengeance wild outrageous bears are now as tame as sheep  
The ugly Serpent that was wont, the Rocky Dens to keep.  
Oft quaffing poisoned Venom sups in inward heat she boils,  
And all inflamed and scorched ,in vain for longer life she toils.  
The woods are 〈…〉 with fresh and lively hue,  
The wonted shades are gone. All things are quite out of their Que:  
No greenish grass on ground doth grow, the earth no moisture soups.  
The Vine withouten any sap, his drowsy head down droops.  
What shall I say? all 〈…〉 out of course,  
And as they seem to me ,are like ,to fare still worse and worse.  
O mighty God above when end these everduring ills?  
When cease 〈…〉 blood thus fierce and raging spills?  
I think but we almost alive, there do no men remain:  
Whom doleful Darts 〈…〉 on earth have left unslain.  
I think the darksome shades of hell where filthy floods do flow,  
Where plagues and vile diseases too, where dreadful horrors grow,  
And all the furies brasten loose do mischiefs on us throw,  
With Botch & blain of sundry kinds which southern blasts do blow,  
And wreckful vexed hags of hell do dreath and on us bring:  
The angry feddes of hell I think their vengeance, on us fling  
And out their mortal poison spue which they against us bear.  
Lo see how greedy death on us with scowling eyes doth leer.  
See, see. Oh jove how fast he throws his Darts. Not one he spares  
But all confounds. His threatening force, withstand no Creature dares.  
No doubt the loathsome ferryman the sinful souls that trains  
Through stinking floods, his labour loathes that he for us sustains.  
Such press by plumps to him is made which still renews his pains.  
But hark yet monsters more than these, the Fame abroad doth fly  
That hellish Dogs with bawling sound were heard to howl and cry,  
And the the ground with trembling shook, and under feel did move.  
And dreadful blazing Comets bright were seen in Skies above.  
And ghastly shapes of men besides, to wander on the ground.  
And wood, and trees on every side, did fearfully resound.  
Besides all this strange Ghosts were seen in places where they stood.  
And Rivers more than one or two, that ran all black goorb blood.  
O cruel plague, O vile disease, far worse than speedy death.  
O we unhappy thrice and more, who do prolong our breath.  
In these accursed days and times. But hark to me a while.  
When first this loathsome plague begins these Misers to defile,  
It takes them thus. A fearful Cold through all their bones doth run,]  
And Cold and Heat together mixed, their senses all benumb.  
Than little loathsome marks appear, and all their bodies spot.  
And all their members flaming glow, and burning fast do rot.  
The Lights, the Lungs, the heart, the Guts, and all that inward lies.  
And all the secret parts yscorched, with deadly, I fire fries.  
The blood all clottered in their Cheeks, in cluster lies by lumps.  
And it and heat together makes, great, strange, and ruddy bumps.  
And blood and flesh congealed stands, in Face as stiff as stake.  
And Eyes in head fast fixed set, and often trickling make.  
And down apace whole floods they steam, and clots & drops do trill,  
And all the skin from of their Face, by flakes and scales doth pill.  
A thousand fearful sounds at once, into their ears do rush.  
And loathsome blood out of their Nose, by stilling streams doth gush.  
The very anguish of their heart doth cause them for to shake.  
And what with pain & heal, and fear, their wearied limbs do quake.  
Then some the running Rivers haunt, and some on ground do wallow.  
And some again their thirst to slake, cold water gulping swallow.  
Thus all our country tossed with plague in grief it weltering lies.  
And still desiring for to die, a thousand deaths it dies.  
But God to hear them then is priest: and death to none denies.  
Besides all this, the church some do frequent: but not to pray,  
But only for to glut the Gods, with that that they do say.  
But who is this that comes to Court in haste with posting pace?  
What? be't Creon that noble Prince (for deeds and stately race?)  
Or doth my mind oppressed with care things false for true contrive?  
Creon it is long looked for, his sight doth me revive.   

THE second act.  

The first Scene.  OEDIPUS. CREON. 
FOr fear my body chills, alas,  
and trembling all I stand  
In quaking dread. I seek and toil,  
these mischiefs to withstand.  
But all in vain I spend my thoughts  
it will not be, I see,  
As long as all my senses thus  
by cares distracted be.  
My mind desirous still (Oh God,) the truth for to unfold,  
With doubtful Dread is daunted so, that it can scant uphold  
itself. O Brother bear, if way or mean of health thou know,  
Declare it out and stick not all the truth to me to show.  Cre. 
The Oracle (most noble king) is dark, and hidden lies.  Oed. 
Who doubtful health to sick men brings, all health to them denies.  Cre. 
Apollo's use it is the troth in darksome dens to hold.  Oed. 
And Oedipus of Gods it hath things hidden to unfold:  
Speak out, tell all, and spare not man: all doubts I can discus.  Cre. 
Apollo then (most noble King) himself commandeth thus.  
By exile purge the PRINCE's seat, and plague with vengeance due  
That hapless wretch, whose bloody hands of late King Laius slew:  
Before that this performed be, no hope of milder air:  
Wherefore do this (O King) or else All hope of help despair.  Oe, 
Durst any man on earth attempt, that noble Prince to slay?  
Show me the man that I may him dispatch out of the way.  Cre. 
God grant I may it safely tell: the hearing was too terrible,  
My senses all amazed are: it is a thing so horrible,  
That I abhor to utter it (oh God) for fear I quake  
And even at the very thought my limbs begin to shake.  
assoon as I Apollo's Church, had entered in afraid,  
Upon my face flat down I fell, and thus to him I prayed.  
Oh God if ever thou didst rue, on wretched miser's state,  
If ever men oppressed thou eased, or didst their cares abate,  
If ever thou in present need didst present help declare,  
If ever thou afflicted Hearts with cares consumed didst spare:  
Show now thy wonted clemency and pity known of yore.  
Scant had I said: Resounding all the mountains thundering roar:  
And filthy fiends spout out their flames out of their darksome caves.  
And woods do quake, and hills do move, and up the surging waves  
Do mount unto the skies aloft, and I amazed stand.  
Still looking for an answer at Apollo's sacred hand.  
When out with ruffled hair disguised the: Prophet comes at last:  
And when that she had felt the heat of mighty Phoebus blast.  
All puffing out she swells in rage, and pattering still she raves,  
And scant she entered had into Apollo's shining caves,  
When out a thundering voice doth burst that's far above man's reach.  
So dreadful seemed then to me the mighty Phoebus speech.  
Than thus he spoke and thus at length into mine cares he rushed  
while sprawling still the Prophet lay before the doors in dust.  
The Theban City never shall be free from plagues (quoth he,)  
Except from thence the Kingkiller forthwith expulsed be:  
Unto Apollo known he was, or ever he was borne.  
Do this: or else no hope of health, to this, the gods have sworn.  
And as for thee, thou shalt not long in quiet state endure,  
But with thyself wage war thou shalt & war thou shalt procure  
Unto thy children dear: & creep again thou shalt into thy mother's womb.  Oed. 
Look what the Gods commanded have accomplished shallbe.  
Nor never shall these eyes of mine abide the day to see,  
A King of kingdom spoiled by force, by guile or craft suppressed.  
A king to kings the prop ought be, and chiefest cause of rest:  
No man regards his death at all whom living he doth fear,  Cr. 
Great cause makes me my PRINCE's death conceal and closely bear  Oed. 
Ought any cause of fear or grief, the duty for to let?  Cre. 
The threatening of the prophesies, do still my breast beset.  Oe. 
Let us (sith God commands) forthwith some good atonement make  
If any way, or means there be their wrathful rage to slake.  
Thou God that sits on seat on high, and all the world dost guide,  
And thou by whose commandment the Stars in Skies do glide:  
Thou, thou that only ruler art of Seas, of Floods, and all.  
On thee and on thy Godhead great, for these requests I call.  
Who so hath slain king Laius, oh jove I do thee pray.  
Let thousand ills upon him fall, before his dying day.  
Let him no health x comfort have, but all to crushed with cares,  
Consume his wretched years in grief, & though that death him spares  
Awhile. Yet mischiefs all, at length upon him light.  
With all the evils under Sun, that ugly monster smite.  
In exile let him live a Slave, the rated course of life.  
In shame, in care, in penury in danger and in strife.  
Let no man on him pity take, let all men him revile.  
Let him his Mother's sacred Bed incestuously defile.  
Lim him his father kill. And yet let him do mischiefs more.  
What thing more heinous can I wish then that I wished before?  
Let him do all those ills I say, that I have shunned and passed.  
All those and more (if more may be) oh God upon him cast.  
Let him no hope of pardon have: but sue and all in vain.  
All hellish Furies on him light, for to increase his pain.  
O jove power down thy fury great, thy thundering thumps out throw  
Let Boreas boisterous blasts and stormy plagues upon him blow  
Consume him quite. Fret out his guts with pocks and botches vile  
Let all diseases on him light that wretched bodies file.  
Let these and more (if more may be) upon that Monster fall.  
Let Harpies paws and greedy paunch devour his members all.  
Let no man him regard: or seek his limbs in grave to lay:  
But let him die ten thousand deaths before his dying day.  
By this my Kingdom I do swear, and Kingdom that I left  
By all my Country Gods that been in Temples closely kept,  
I swear, I vow, I do protest, and thereto witness take:  
The Stars, the Seas, the Earth and all that ere thy hand did make.  
Except that I myself forthwith this bloody monster find,  
To wreak the wrath of God some way with solemn oath I bind.  
And so my father, Polybius his happy days out live.  
And so my mother Merope, no marriage new contrive:  
As he shall die that did this deed, and none shall him excuse.  
Whoso he be here I protest for that he shortly rues:  
But where this wicked deed was don Creon now tell me plain:  
Both by what means? & where: and how Ring Laius was slain.  
Creon. Passing through Castalia woods & mountains heaped with snow  
Where groves and scrubs, and bushes thick & brambles sharp do grow.  
A three-pathed crooked way there is that diversly doth go.  
One unto Bacchus' city bends that Phoce doth height,  
The other to Olenius, forth stretcheth out aright:  
The third that reacheth through the vales and by the rivers lies  
Tends down unto the Banks whereby Eleia, water plies  
There unawares (O piteous chance) a troop of thieves entraps  
The noble prince, and murders him hence spring these great mishaps  
which heap you realms with hideous woes and plagues on every side,  
By just decree of heavenly powers which can no murder bide.  
But see Tiresias where he comes with old and trembling pace.  
I think Apollo's heavenly might have brought him to this place.  
See where he comes: and Manto too, his steps directing stays  
'tis he who for your grace (O king) and for your country prays   

THE SECOND act. THE SECOND SCENE.  OEDIPUS. Tiresias. MANTO. 
COme holy priest (to Phoebus next)  
these doubtful answers lose:  
And whom that destinies will to die,  
Straightways to me disclose.  TY. 
Renowned Prince, though still I stand  
in silence dumb dismayed:  
And though by inward fear of mind  
my lingering tongue is stayed:  
Yet pardon me (O noble Prince,) and give me leave a while.  
From lack of sight springs Ignorance which power hath to exile  
Unspotted Truth from doubtful breasts. This thing full well you knows,  
But whither God and Country calls, with willing mind I go.  
Let deadly fatal destentes, be bolted out at length.  
O King if I of greener years had now my wonted strength:  
This matter soon discussed should be, and I would take in hand,  
myself in presence of the Gods, in temple for to stand.  
A mighty Ox all coloured white, up on the Altars rear,  
Which never yet on wearied neck, the crooked yoke did bear.  
And Manto thou, O daughter mine, mine only prop and stay:  
The secret hidden mysteries, and sacred signs out say.  
M A. The beast before the Altar stands.  T Y. 
To Gods a prayer make,  
And on the holy Altars cke, some pleasant odours shake.  M A. 
'tis done. And all the fierce fierce, with incense bright do flame.  T Y. 
O Manto now what signs seest thou? how do thy matters frame?  
What? doth the fire, the Sacrifice encompass round about?  MA. 
Not so. But first it mounts aloft, and straight it flasheth out.  TY. 
Well Yet, how doth the sacred flame all shining bright and clear  
itself on high unto the Skies, with sparkelting flakes uprear?  
Or doth it oft rebounding back, itself, from Skies unfold?  
Or all with rumbling roaring noise, about the place be't rolled?  
Or dimmed with smoke, be't tossed from place, to place, now here, now there?  MA. 
Not one. But diverse, colours mixed the flame doth with it bear.  
Much like unto the Rainbow, which with sundry painted hues  
Foreshows unto the husbandmen the weather that ensues.  
What colour it wants, or what it hath, to me is like uncertain.  
Now is it black, now blue, now red, and even now again  
Quite out it is. Yet once again, all fierce it flashing flames:  
But lo, yet mischiefs more than this, unluckily it frames.  
The fire quite asunder parts, and flame with flame doth fight.  
O father I abhor to see, this ugly loathsome sight.  
The Wine to blood is turned quite, and all the princes head,  
With thick black clouds encompassed is, with smoke all overspread.  
O father tell what this portends?  TY. 
What should I tell alas?  
My mind for fear astonished stands, and trembling cold doth pass  
Through all my limbs. What shall I say? or where shall I begin?  
O cruel Plagues, O wreckful Gods, O vengeance due for sin.  
Some dire and bloody deed (Alas) these hideous signs declare.  
What's that the Gods would have revealed, and yet do bid beware  
To utter it? By certain signs their wrath is oft descried:  
Such signs appear, and yet they seem their fury great to hide.  
They are ashamed: I wot near what. Come hither, quickly bring  
Some salt with thee, and it upon the sacrifice go fling.  
What? are their looks pleasant and mild, and do they gently bide  
The touching of thy sacred hands?  MA. 
What may this thing betide?  
The Bull (a wonder great to see) his head on high he lifts  
And turned still unto the East, from thence it always shifts,  
Still loathing as he seems to me, of heaven to see the light,  
Oft scowling with his blearing eyes with ghastly ruthful sight.  TY. 
But doth one blow then drive to ground, or more the one they have?  MA. 
The Heifer as it seemed, inflamed with courage stout and brave  
Upon the mortal Blade did rush, and there herself destroys:  
When out the blood it foaming spouts, and mounts unto the Skies.  
The brawny Bull twice stroke or thrice, with groveling groaning tires,  
And toiling up and down he moils. And still to live desires.  
And yet at length with much ado, his brutish breath expires.  TY. 
What? doth the wound wide open gape, or is it closed up?  
Or doth the deepness of the hole, the blood in soaking sup?  MA. 
Out of the wounded Heifers breast Black bluish waters rush.  
As for the Bull, but little blood, out of his wounds doth gush.  
It back rebounds, and from his Mouth & Eyes by streams doth flow.  
But what these dreadful signs portend the Gods alone do know.  TY. 
By this unhappy Sacrifice, great fears within me rise.  
But tell me now: In the inner parts, what secret hidden lies?  MA. 
O Father what means this (alas) that more than wonted guise  
The innards stir? and shake my hands, and heaving oft arise,  
The blood by streams out of the veins, full strangely skips aloft.  
The heart all scorched and hidden lies, and strikes are seen full oft,  
Of Colour very wan and pale: The chiefest parts do want.  
The Liver blackish gall out spurts, and somewhat rising pants.  
And that, that mischiefs great, to kingdoms doth foreshow:  
Two heads are seen, and yet both heads one skin doth overgrow  
And overheals them quite, But yet the skin, it is so thin  
That easily one may discern what lieth hid therein.  
And that which horror doth increase, a man may plainly see  
How both the heart, the Lights, and Lungs, and all disturbed be.  
The fearful noise and sound you here is not of beasts, but fire  
That roaring on the Altars makes, presaging wreakful ire  
Of angry Gods who do foretell some purpose that they have,  
For to revenge some foul misdeed that vengeance just doth crave.  
No part his proper place observes, nor keeps his order due:  
But altogether quite disguised, with an unwonted hue.  
misshapen, out of frame, transformed, displaced quite (alas)  
What thing is that the Gods intend ere long to bring to pass?  OEd. 
Why than declare from whence, and why these deadly signs arise,  
With courage stout I will it hear, it shall not once aggrise  
By valiant mind. Extremest ills have power to banish fear.  TY. 
You will wish that unheard which you so much desire to hear.  OEd. 
Yet sense the Gods will have him known tell me (I say) his name  
That sive your King.  TY. 
Nor wing, nor womb of Bird or beast that same  
Can tell (O king) new sacrifice, new means we must invent.  
From dreadful dark infernal damps some Fury must be sent  
These mischiefs great for to unfold. Or else King Ditis he,  
That Empire keeps on grisly Ghosts, entreated needs must be  
These things forthwith for to disclose. Tell who shall have the charge,  
A King thou art, than mayst not thou go through those kingdoms large.  OEd. 
Than noble Creon thou shalt go, this pain is first for thee:  
Who must this crown and kingdom great enjoy after me.    

THE third act.  

THE FIRST SCENE.  Oedipus. Creon. 
THough that thy Face where sadness sits  
in heavy mourning guise,  
Nought else portend, but deadly griefs,  
and mischiefs still to rise:  
Yet tell some means whereby at length  
the Gods we may appease,  
And purchase to our kingdoms waste,  
some hope of health and ease.  Cre. 
Alas you bid me that disclose which fear doth bid me hide.  Oed. 
It that the Theban cities great, by doleful plagues destroyed.  
pierce not thy heart: yet oughtest thou. these Kingdoms for to rue,  
Which were unto thy brother's house, of ancient title due.  Cre. 
You wish the thing to know, which you will wish unknown at length.  Oed. 
Why so? a simple remedy of little force and strength  
Is ignorance of our estate when dangers us betide.  
But what? wilt thou so great a good for common safety hide?  Cre. 
Irksome Medicines and perilous in sickness I abhor:  Oed. 
And I likewise at subjects hands disdain to take a dorre,  
Speak out with speed, or else by proof of torment thou shalt find  
How dangerous a case it is to gall a PRINCE's mind.  Cre. 
kings often use to wish untold, which they bade tell before.  Oed. 
Go to, dispatch and cease in time to vex me any more.  
Except that thou forthwith to me this heinous deed disclose:  
The gods I do protest, to death for all thou only goes.  Cre. 
O pardon me most noble king. O let me hold my pes,  
Of all the graces Princes grant, what favour may be less?  Oed 
As though the silence hurts not more both king and country's weal:  
Then speech oft times: which subjects thoughts to Prices both reveal?  
Dispatch at once, stir me no more thou know'st my guise of old.  CRE. 
Silence denied, what privilege may silly Subject hold?  OED. 
A traitor he is, who silence keeps, when king commands to speak.  CRE. 
Then pardon my constrained speech, sith silence for to break  
You me compel. A doleful tale (O king) my tongue must tell,  
And which I fear your majesty will not interpret well.  OED. 
Was ever man rebuked for that, that he was bid to say?  CRE. 
Well than since needs I must: I am contented to obey.  
A wood there is from City far, enhanced with stately trees:  
Where many a plant, and her be doth grow, which Phoebus never sees:  
With ever during bushes green, the Cypress there doth rise,  
And puts his old and lofty had withing the cloud Skies.  
The ancient Time eaten Oak with crooked bended limbs.  
The Teyl tree fine: The Alder which in Neptune's kingdoms swims,  
The bays with bitter berries eke the Elms dear friends to wines  
And many a noble tree besides, as myrtles, 〈…〉  
Amidst them all, one tree there is with large out 〈…〉  
Whose roaring sound, & craking noise the lesser woods ycharms,  
And overshades them all: a Tree of monstrous huge estate,  
Beset with fearful woods: there is that dire, and dreadful gate,  
That leads to loathsome limbo Lake, and pits that ever flow.  
Where choked miry mud doth stream with slimy course full flow.  
Here when the priest was entered in with comely aged pace,  
He stayed not: No need there was, for night was still in place.  
Than all the ground wide open gapes, & smothering vapours rise,  
And fire and smoke, & stifling stink, mounts up unto the skies.  
The Priest with wailing werde yclad, his fatal red out took:  
And entering in, in black Array, full often times it shook.  
With heavy cheer and doleful pace: his hoary hair was twined  
With bows of mortal Ewe. A tree wherewith the mourners wind,  
Their mourning heads, & Garlands make. In this guise all arrayed,  
The sacred Priest doth enter in, with trembling limbs dismayed:  
Than in the Sheep and Oxen black, by backward course are drawn.  
And odours sweet, & frankincense, on flaming fires are thrown.  
The beasts on burning, Altars cast, do quake with scorched limbs:  
And bloody streams with fire mixed, about the Altars swims.  
Than on the dark internal Gods, and him that rules them all:  
With deadly shrieking voice aloud, the Prophet gins to call.  
And rolls the Magic verse in mouth, and hidden Arts doth prove:  
Which either power have to appease or else the Gods to move,  
Their bloody streaming Liquours black, with broiling heat do boil:  
And all the Beasts consume and burn. The Prophet than to toil  
Begins. And mixed wine and Milk upon the Altars throws.  
And all the Dungeon dark, and wide with streaming blood it flows.  
Than out with thundering voice again the Prophet calls and cries.  
And straight as much with mumbling mouth he champs in secret wise  
The trees do turn. The rivers stand. The ground with roaring shakes.  
And all the world as seems to me, with fearful trembling quakes.  
I am heard, I am heard, than out aloud the Priest began to cry:  
When all the damned souls by heaps abroad outrushing fly.  
Then woods with rumbling noise, do oft resounding make.  
And Heaven, and Earth together go. And bows and trees do crake.  
And Thunders roar. And Lightnings flash. And waves aloft do fly.  
And ground retires: and Dogs do bawl: and Beasts are heard to cry.  
And whither long of Acheron, that loathsome Flood that flows  
All stinking streams: or of the earth, that out her Bowels throws,  
Free place to Sprights to give: or of that fierce infernal Hound,  
That at such times doth bustling make with chains, & railing sound.  
The Earth all wide it open gapes. And I did see on ground,  
The Gods with colour pale and wan, that those dark kingdoms keep.  
And very night I saw in deed, and thousand shapes to creep,  
From out those filthy stinking Lakes, and loathsome pits of Hell.  
Where all the evils under Son, in darksome shades do dwell.  
So quaking all for fear I stood with mind right sore appalled,  
Whilst on those Gods with trembling mouth the Priest full often called.  
Who all at once, out of their dens did skip with grisly Face.  
And Monsters grim, and stinging Snakes seemed wander in that place.  
And all the foulest Fiends of Hell, and Furies all were there.  
And all transformed Ghosts & sprights, that ever Hell did bear.  
With Cares, and all Diseases vile, that mortal minds do crush,  
All those, and more I saw out of those Dungeons deep to rush,  
And Age I saw, with riveled Face, and Need, & Fear, and Death.  
And Fire, and flames, & thousand ills out fro those Pits to breath.  
Then I was gone: and quite amazed. The wench in worser case.  
And yet of old, acquainted with her Father's Arts she was.  
The Priest himself unmoved stood, and boldly cited out:  
Whole Armies of king Ditis' men, who clustering in a Rout:  
All flittering thin like Clouds, dispersed abroad in Air do fly.  
And bearing sundry shapes and forms do scud above in Sky,  
A thousand woods I think have not so many leaves on trees.  
Ten thousand meadows fresh have not so many flowers for bees.  
Ten hundred thousand rivers not so many Foul can show:  
Nor all the drops and streams, and gulfs that in the Seas do flow,  
If that they might be weighed, can sure so great a number make  
As could those shapes and forms that flew from out of Limbo lake.  
Both Tantalus and Zetus too, and pale Amphion's Ghost:  
And 'a gave, and after her ten thousand spirits do post.  
Than Pentheus, and more and more, in like estate ensue:  
Till out at length comes Laius with foul and grisly hue:  
uncomely breast in wretched plight with filth all overgrown:  
All pierced with wounds, (I loathe to speak) with blood quite overflown  
A Miser right as seemed to me, and most of Misers all:  
Thus in this case, at length he spoke, and thus began to call.  
O Cadmus cruel City vile, that still delight'st in blood,  
O Cadmus thou, which kinsmen's death, account'st as chiefest good.  
Tear out the bloody Bowels of your Children, learn of me,  
Do that, and rather more, than you would bide the day to see  
Like ills as late on me are light. Lo mother's love (alas)  
Hath caused the greatest misery that ere in Theba was.  
The Country with the wrath of Gods at this time is not tossed.  
Nor yearth nor air infect is not the cause that all been lost.  
No No. A bloody King is cause of all these mischiefs great:  
A bloody wretch: A wretched child that sits in Father's Seat:  
And Mother's bed defiles (O wretch) and entereth in again,  
In places whence he came from once and doubleth so her pain,  
Whilst that he fills the hapless womb where in himself did lie  
With graceless seed and causeth her twice childbirth's pangs to try:  
Unhappy Son, but Father worse and most unhappy he,  
By whom the laws of sacred shame so sore confounded be.  
For that that very beasts (almost) do all abhor to do,  
Even of his mother's body he hath brothers gotten two.  
O mischief great: O dreadful deed, than Sphinx, O monster more:  
Example unto ages all of Gods foretold before.  
But I thee, thee, that Sceptre hold'st, thy Father will pursue,  
And wreak myself on thee and thine with plagues & vengeance due.  
All restless rage of spite and pain I will upon thee blow,  
And all the furies foul of hell upon thee I will throw.  
I will subvert thy Houses clean, for this thy loathsome lust:  
I will do this thou wretch: And thee, and thine consume to dust.  
Wherefore dispatch at once (I say) into exile drive your King.  
That ground that first of all he leaves, with fresh green grass shall spring.  
And sweet, and pleasant Air, and healthful blasts shall rise,  
And all the evils under Sun, that mortal men surprise:  
The Pocks, the Piles, the Botch, the blain, & death with him shall fly.  
And with him mischiefs all shall pass, and Monsters under Sky.  
And as for him I know he would depart with willing mind:  
But I will clog his Feet, and hands, his way he shall not find.  
But groping with his aged staff, shall pass from place to place.  
This shall he do. And none shall rue upon his ruthful case.  
Rid you the Monster from the Earth, for Heaven let me alone.  
No sooner said, but straight away, his dreadful Ghost was gone.  
And fast by thousands after him, th'other Sprights in hide:  
Than Cold & trembling fear began through all my bones to glide.  OED. 
The thing I always feared, I see upon me now is laid:  
But slender props they are (God wot) whereby your Treason is stayed.  
Merope my Mother dear, shall me from this defend:  
Polybius eke shall purge me quite, from Actions all, that tend  
To murder, or to incest vile, they both shall me excuse.  
In such a case no means at all of trial I refuse.  
Lay what you can unto my charge. No fault in me remains.  
The Thebans long or I came here, of Laius' death complains.  
My Mother yet alive, my Father still in like estate.  
No, no, this is some doltish drift, of yond false prophet's pate.  
Or else some mighty God above, doth bear me no good will,  
And seeks by Plagues on me to wreak, his wrathful vengeance still.  
Ah Sir I am glad at length I smell your drifts and fetches fine.  
I know the whole confederacy your sleights I can untwine.  
That beastly Priest, that blear-eyed wretch belies the Gods and me:  
And thee thou Traitor in my place hath promised king to be.  CRE. 
Alas would I my Sister of, her lawful kingdom spoil?  
Think you such treason may have place in brother's breast to boil?  
If that mine Oath could me not keep content with my degree:  
But that contemning mean estate, I would climb aloft to be.  
Yet should ill Fortune me deter, from such attempts I trow:  
Whose guise it is on PRINCE's heads, huge heaps of Cares to throw.  
I would advise your grace betimes this charge from you to cast:  
lest lingering long all unawares, you be oppressed at last.  
Assure yourself, in baser state, more safer you may live:  
And shun a thousand Cares, & Griefs: which Princes hearts do rive.  OED. 
And dost thou me exhort thou slave my kingdom for to leave?  
O faithless head. O shameless heart, that could such treasons weave?  
darest thou attempt thou villain vile this thing, to me to break?  
And fearest thou not in such a cause so boldly for to speak.  CRE. 
I would persuade them so (O King) who freely might possess  
Their Realms such piteous cares I see, do princes hearts oppress:  
But as for you of force you must your Fortune's change abide.  OED. 
The surest way for them that gape for kingdoms large, & wide,  
Is first things mean, and rest, and peace, and base estate to praise:  
And yet with Tooth and Nail, to toil to mount aloft always.  
So often times, most restless beasts do chiefly rest commend.  CRE. 
Shall not my service long suffice my truth for to defend?  OED. 
Time is the only means for such, as thou to work their will.  CRE. 
It is so sir, but as for me, of goods I have my fill.  
A great resort. A pleasant life: from Princely cares exempt.  
All these might (surely) me dissuade from such a foul attempt.  
There is no day almost (O King) the whale year thorough out,  
Where in some royal gifts are not from countries round about  
Unto me sent, both Gold, and pearls, and things of greater cost,  
Which I let pass, lest I should seem but vainly for to boast.  
Besides the life of many a man hath been preserved by me.  
In such a blissful state (O King) what can there wanting be?  OE. 
(Good Fortune can no mean observe, but still she presseth higher.)  CRE. 
Shall I then guiltless die (alas,) my cause and all untried?  OED. 
Were unto you at any time my life, my deeds descried?  
Did any man defend me yet? or else my causes plead?  
And guiltless yet I am condemned to this you do me lead,  
And me express example give, which I intend to take.  
What measure you do meat to me, like measure must I make.  CRE. 
The mind which causeless dread appalls, true cause of fear bewrays  
That conscience is not guiltless sure, which every blast dismates.  OED. 
He that in midst of perils deep, and dangers hath been cast,  
Doth seek all means to shun like ills as he hath overpast.  CR. 
So hatreds rise.  OE. 
He that too much doth use ill will to fear,  
Unskilful is: and knows not how, he ought himself to bear  
In king's estate. For fear alone doth Kingdoms chiefly keep.  
Than he that thus doth arm himself from fear all free may sleep.  CRE. 
Who so the cruel tyrant plays, and guiltless men doth smite,  
He dreadeth them that him do dread, so fear doth chiefly light  
On causers chief. A just revenge for bloody minds at last.  OED. 
Come take this traitor vile away, In dungeon deep him fast  
Enclose. There for his due deserts, let him abide such pain  
And scourge of mind (as meet it is) false traitors to sustain.  Chorus. 
SEt, see, the miserable State,  
of princes careful life.  
What raging storms? what bloody broils?  
what toil? what endless strife  
Do they endure? (O God) what plagues?  
what grief do they sustain?  
A Princely life: No. No. (No doubt)  
an ever during pain.  
A state e'en fit for men on whom Fortune would wreak her will.  
A place for Cares to couch them in. A door wide open still  
For griefs and dangers all that been to enter when they list.  
A king these Mates must ever have, it boots not to resist.  
Whole floods of privy pinching fear, great anguish of the mind:  
Apparent plagues, & daily griefs. These playferes Princes find.  
And other none, with whom they spend, and pass their wretched days.  
Thus he that princes' lives, and base Estate together ways:  
Shall find the one a very hell, a perfect infelicity:  
The other eke a heaven right, exempted quite from misery.  
Let OEdipus example be of this unto you all,  
A Mirror meet. A Pattern plain, of Princes careful thrall.  
Who late in perfect joy as seemed, and everlasting bliss,  
Triumphantly his life out led, a miser now he is,  
And most of wretched Misers all, even at this present time,  
With doubtful waves of fear Ytossed, subject to such a Crime  
Whereat my tongue amazed stays, God grant that at the last,  
It fall not out as Creon told. Not yet the worst is past,    

THE FOURTH act.  

THE first SCENE.  OEdipus. jocasta. 
MY mind with doubtful waves of dread,  
is tossed to and fro,  
I wot not what to say (Alas)  
I am tormented so.  
For all the Gods on me do cry,  
for pains and vengeance due.  
They say that these my guiltless hands.  
king Laius lately slew.  
But this my conscience void of crime  
and mind from mischief free:  
To God's untried, to me well known denies it so to be:  
Full well I do remember once, by chance I did dispatch,  
A man who sought by force with me presumptuously to match.  
His purpose was (a fond attempt) my Chariot for to stay,  
This I remember well enough, the strife was in the way.  
And he a man well steeped in years, and I a lusty blood,  
And yet of mere disdain and pride in vain he me withstood.  
But this from, Thebes far was done, a crooked three pathed way,  
That was the place in which we fought: it hard by Phocis lay.  
Dear Wife resolve my doubts at once, and me expressly tell.  
How old was Laius the King when this mischance befell?  
Was he of fresh and lusty years? or stricken well in age  
When he was killed? O ease my thoughts of this tormenting rage.  IOC. 
Betwixt an old man an a young: but nearer to an old.  OED. 
Were there great Bands of men with him his Person to uphold?  IOC. 
Some by the way deceived were, and some deterred by pain.  
A few by toil and labour long, did with their Prince remain.  OE. 
Were any slain in his defence?  IO. 
Of one report is rife,  
Who constant in his PRINCE's cause full stoutly lost his life.  OED. 
It is enough, I know the man that hath this mischief done.  
The number and the place agrees. The time untried alone  
Remains: Than tell what time he died, and when that he was slain.  IOC. 
'tis ten years since: you now revive my chiefest cares again.   

THE FOURTH act. THE SECOND SCENE.  Senex. OEdipus. 
THe Corinth people all (O King)  
in Father's place to rain  
Do call your Grace: Polybius doth  
eternal rest obtain.  OED. 
O God what Fortune vile doth me  
oppress on every side?  
How do my sorrows still increase?  
Tell how my Father died.  SEN. 
No sickness (sir) but very age did of his life him reave.  OED. 
And is he dead: in deed? not slain? what joy may I conceive?  
How may I now triumph? the Gods to witness I do call,  
To whom are known my hidden thoughts and secret workings all:  
Now may I lift to skies my hands, my hands from mischief free.  
But yet the chiefest cause of fear remaineth still to me.  SEN. 
Your Father's kingdom ought all dread out of your mind to drive.  OED. 
That I confess. But secret thoughts my trembling heart do rive  
With inward doubt of deep distress, my Mother I do fear.  
This grudge is that continually my heart doth rent and tear.  SEN. 
Do you your Mother fear? on your return that only slays.  OED. 
I fear not her: but from her sight, a godly zeal me frays.  S. 
What will you her a Widow leave?  OE. 
Now, now, thou wound'st my heart.  
This, this, and only this (alas,) is cause of all my smart.  SEN. 
Tell me (O king) what doubtful fear? doth press thy princely breast:  
Kings counsels I can well conceal that ben with Cares oppressed.  OED. 
lest as Apollo hath foretold, I should a Marriage make  
With mine own Mother: only this foul fear doth make me quake.  SEN. 
Such vain & peevish fears, at length from out your breast exile.  
Merope your Mother is not in deed, you do yourself beguile.  OED. 
What vantage should it be to her adopted Sons to have?  SEN. 
A kingdom she shall gain thereby. Her Husband laid in grave.  
The chiefest prop to stay her Realms from present confusion,  
In children for to have: and hope of lawful succession.  OED. 
What are the means whereby thou dost these secrets understand.  SEN. 
myself (your grace) an Infant gave into your father's hand.  OED. 
Didst thou me to my Father give? Who than gave me to thee?  SEN. 
A Shepherd str; that wanted on Cithaeron Hills to be.  OE. 
What made thee in those woods to range? what hadst thou there to do?  SEN. 
Upon those Hills my Beasts I kept, sometime a shepherd to.  OE. 
What notes, what privy marks hast thou, whereby thou dost me know?  SE. 
The holes that through your feet are board from whence your name did grow.  OE. 
Declare forthwith what was his name that gave me unto thee.  SE. 
The kings chief Shepherd than that was, delivered you to me.  OE. 
What was his name?  SE. 
O king old men's remembrance soon doth fail:  
Oblivion for the chiefest part, doth boary heads assail.  
And drowns their former memory of things long out of mind.  OE. 
What? canst thou know the man by sight?  S. 
Perhaps I should him find,  
And know by Face. Things over whelmed by time, and quite oppressed.  
A small mark oft to mind revokes, and fresh renews in breast.  OE. 
Sirs bid the Herdsmen forth with drive their Beasts to Altars all.  
Away with speed, make haste, the Master Shepherds to me call.  SE. 
Sith that your destiny this doth hide, and Fortune it detain  
And closely keep, let it be so, from opening that refrain.  
That long concealed hath hidden lain, that seek not to disclose:  
Such things outsearched and found oft-times against the searcher goes.  OE. 
Can any mischief greater be? than this that now I fear.  SE. 
Advise you well remember first what weight this thing doth bear:  
That thus you go about to search, and slit with Tooth and Nail,  
Observe the golden mean: beware bear still and equal sail.  
Your countries wealth (O King) your life, and all upon this lies.  
Though you stir not, be sure at length your Fortune you escries.  
A happy state for to disturb doth nought at all behoue.  OE. 
When things be at the worst, of them a man may safely move.  SE. 
Can you have ought more excellent? than is a princes state?  
Beware lest of your Parents found it you repent too late.  OE. 
No (father) no I warrant that: repent not I (I trow.)  
I seek it not to that intent. I have decreed to know,  
The matter at the full. Wherefore I will it now pursus.  
Lo Phorbas: where he trembling comes, with comely aged hue.  
To whom of all the kings flock than, the care and charge was due.  
Dost thou his name, his speech his Face, or yet his person know?  SE. 
methinks I should have seen his Face, and yet I cannot show  
The places where I have him seen, small time brings such a change,  
As well acquainted Faces , to us appear still strange.  
This look is neither thoroughly known, nor yet unknown to me,  
I cannot tell: I doubt it much, and yet it may be he.  
In Laius' time long since when he these Kingdoms great did keep?  
Wast thou not on Cithaeron hills chief shepherd to his sheep?   

THE FOURTH act. THE third SCENE.  Phorbas. Senex. OEdipus. 
SOmetime a charge of sheep I had,  
unworthy though I were.  
And did upon those hills chief rule  
on other Shepherds bear.  SE. 
know'st thou not me.  PH. 
I cannot tell.  OE. 
Didst thou once give this man  
A Child. Speak out, why dost thou stay?  
if so, declare it than.  
Why dost thou blush and doubting stand,  
troth seeketh no delay?  PH. 
Things out of mind you call again, almost quite worn away.  OE. 
Confess thou slave, or else I swear, thou that constrained be  PH. 
In deed I do remember once, an Infant young by me,  
Delivered was unto this Man: but well I wot in vain,  
I know he could not long endure, nor yet alive remain.  
Long since he is dead (I know it well) he lives not at this day.  SE. 
Eo? God forbid, he lives no doubt, and long may live I pray.  OE. 
Why dost thou say the child is dead, that thou this man didst give?  PH. 
With Irons sharp his feet were board, I know he could not live,  
For of the sore a swelling rose, I saw the blood to gush  
From out of both the wounds: and down by powering streams to flush.  SEN. 
Now stay (O king) no farther now, you know almost the troth.  OE. 
Whose child was it?  tell me forthwith.  PH. 
I dare not for mine oath.  OE. 
Thine Oath thou slave? Some fire here. I'll charm thine oath and thee,  
With fire & flames: except forthwith thou tell the troth to me.  PH. 
O pardon me, though rade I seem, I seek nor to withstand name?  
Your grace's mind: (most noble king.) My life is in your hand.  OED. 
Tell me the troth, what child, & whose, What was his Mother's  P. 
Born of your wife.  OE. 
O gaping earth devour my body quite:  
Or else thou God that ruler art of houses void of light,  
To Hell my Saul with thunder bolts to Hell my Soul down drive.  
Where grisly Ghosts in darkness deep, and endless pain do live.  
For thee alone, these Plagues do rage. For thee these mischiefs rise.  
For thee, the Earth lies desolate. For thee thou wretch the Skies  
Infected are. For thee, for thee, and for the filthy lust,  
A hundred thousand guiltless men, consumed are to dust.  
O people throw: cast heaps of stones upon this hateful head:  
Bath all your swords within my breast: you furies overshed  
My restless thoughts, with raging woes and plunged in seas of pain.  
Let me those horrors still endure, which damned souls sustain.  
You citizens of Stately Thebes vex me with torments dile.  
Let Father, Son, and Wife, and all with vengeance me pursue.  
Let those that for my sake alone with plagues tormented be  
Throw darts, cast stones, fling fire and flames, and tortures all on me.  
O shame: O slander of the World: O hate of Gods above.  
Confounder O of Nature thou to laws of sacred love,  
Even from thy birth an open Foe. Thou didst deserve to die  
As soon as thou wast born. Go, go, unto the Court thee high,  
There with thy Mother (slave) triumph rejoice as thou mayst do.  
Who hast thy house increased with unhappy children so.  
Make haste with speed, away, some thing thy mischiefs worthy find.  
And on thyself wreck all the spite of thy revenging mind.  Chorus. 
FOrtune the guide of humane life doth all things change at will.  
And stirring still, with restless thoughts our wretched minds doth fill.  
In vain men strive their states to keep when hideous tempests rise:  
And blustering winds of dangers deep sets death before their eyes.  
Who saith he doth her fawning feel? & changeth not his mind,  
When fickle fight of Fortune's wheel doth turn by course of kind.  
These grievous plagues from private house to princely Thrones do flow,  
And oft their minds with cares they sauce and thick upon them strew.  
Whole heaps of grief and dire debate, a woeful thing to see:  
A Princely life to miser's state, converted for to be.  
O OEdipus thy fatal fall, thy dreadful mischiefs right.  
Thy doleful state, thy misery, thy thrice unhappy plight:  
These things shall blaze through all the world: what heart may then rejoice  
At thy distress? I can no more: my tears do stop my voice.  
But what is he that yonder stamps? and raging puffs and blows.  
And often shakes his vexed head, some mischief great he knows.  
Good sir your countenance doth import some great and fearful thing,  
Tell us therefore (if that you may) what news from Court you bring.    

THE fift act.  NVNTIVS. 
When OEdipus accursed wretch,  
his fatal falls had spied,  
To hell be damned his wretched soul  
and on the Gods he cried  
For vengeance due. And posting fast  
with frantic mood grisly hue,  
Unto his dole full Court he went,  
his thoughts for to pursue.  
Much like a Lion ramping wild, his furious head that shakes.  
And roars with thundering mouth alowd, and often gnashing makes,  
None otherwise this miser fared. A loathsome sight to see.  
Besides himself for very rage, he still desires to die.  
And rolling round his wretched Eyes with visage pale and wan:  
Ten thousand Curses out he powers. Himself the unhappiest man  
Of all that live, he doth account: as justly he may do.  
A wretch, a slave, a caitiff vile. The cause of all our woe.  
And in this case inflamed with spite he cries, he stamps, he raves.  
And boiling in his secret thoughts, he still desires to have  
All torments under sun that may his Cares conceived increase.  
O wretched wight, what should he do? What man may him release?  
Thus foaming all for rage at mouth, with sighs, and sobs, & groans,  
His damned head ten thousand times, as oft his wearied bones  
He beats. And often puffing makes, and roars, and swells, & sweats.  
And on the Gods for death he calls, for Death he still entreats,  
Three times he did begin to speak: and thrice his tongue did stay.  
At length he cried out aloud: O wretch. Away, away.  
Away thou monstrous Beast (he said:) wilt thou prolong thy life?  
Nay rather some man strike this breast with struck of bloody knife.  
Or all you Gods above on me your flaming fierce outcast:  
And dints of Thunderbolts down throw. This is my prayer last.  
What greedy vile devouring Gripe, upon my guts will gnaw?  
That Tiger fierce my hateful limbs will quite asunder draw?  
Lo, here I am you Gods: lo, here, wreak now on me your will.  
Now, now you fiery Fiends of Hell, of vengeance take your fill.  
Send out some wild outrageous beast send Dogs me to devour.  
Or else all ills you can devise, at once upon me power.  
O woeful soul. O sinful wretch. Why dost thou fear to die?  
Death only rids from woes thou know'st. Than stoutly Death defy.  
With that his bloody fatal Blade, from out his sheath he draws.  
And loud he roars, with thundering voice. Thou beast why dost thou pause?  
Thy Father cursed caitiff thou, thy Father thou hast slain  
And in thy Mother's bed hast left an ever-during slain.  
And Brothers thou hast got: nay Sons thou liest: thy Brothers all  
They are. Thus for thy monstrous lust thy Country down doth fall.  
And thinkst thou then for all these ills enough so short a pain?  
think'st thou the Gods will be appeased, if thou forth with be slain?  
So many mischiefs done: and be't enough one stroke to bide?  
account'st thou it sufficient pains, that once thy sword should glide  
Quite through thy guilty breast for all? why than dispatch and die.  
So mayst thou recompense thy Father's death sufficiently.  
Let it be so: what mends unto thy Mother will thou make?  
Unto thy children what? these plagues (O wretch) how wilt thou slake?  
That thus for thee thy country masts? oh push shall end them all.  
A proper fetch. A fine devise. For thee a worthy fall.  
Invent thou monstrous beast forthwith: a fall even worthy for  
thyself invent: whom all men hate and loath, and do abhor.  
And as dame Nature's lawful course is broke (O wretch) by thee.  
So let to such a mischief great, thy Death agreeing be.  
O that I might a thousand times, my wretched life renew.  
O that I might revive and die by course in order dew.  
Ten hundred thousand times & more: than should I vengeance take  
Upon this wretched head. Than I perhaps in part should make  
A meet amends in deed, for this my foul and loathsome Sin.  
Than should the proof of pain reprove the life that I live in.  
The choice is in thy hand thou wretch, than use thine own discretion.  
And find a means, whereby thou mayst come to extreme confusion.  
And that, that oft thou mayst not do, let it prolonged be.  
Thus, thus, mayst thou procure at length an endless death to thee.  
Search out a death whereby thou mayst perpetual shame obtain:  
And yet not die. But still to live in everlasting pain.  
Why stay'st thou man? Go to I say: what mean these blubbering tears?  
Why weepst thou thus? Alas too late. Leave of thy foolish fears.  
And be't enough to weep thinkst thou? shall tears and wailing serve?  
No wretch it shall not be. Thou dost ten thousand deaths deserve.  
Mine eyes do dally with me I see, and tears do still out power.  
Shall tears suffice? No, no, not so I shall them better scour,  
Out with thine Eyes (he said:) and than with fury fierce enflamed.  
Like to a bloody raging Fiend and monstrous beast untamed.  
With fiery flaming spotted Cheeks his breast he often beats.  
And scratch, and tear his Face he doth and Skin asunder frets.  
That scarce his eyes in head could stand so sore he them besets.  
With furious fierce outrageous mind he stamps and cries aloud:  
And roars & rails, with ramping rage. Thus in this case he stood,  
Perplexed, and vexed sore in mind, with deadly sighs and tears.  
When suddenly all frantic-like himself from ground he rears.  
And rooteth out his wretched Eyes, and sight asunder tears.  
Than gnasheth he his bloody Teeth, and bites, and gnaws, & champs,  
His Eyes all bathed and brewed in blood, for fury fierce he stamps.  
And raging more than needs (alas,) his Eyes quite rooted out:  
The very holes in vain he scrapes so sore the wretch doth doubt:  
lest sight should chance for to remain he rends and mangles quite  
His Face, his Nose, his Mouth, and all whereon his hands do light  
He rigs and rives. Thus foully raid (alas) in piteous plight:  
At length his head aloft he lifts, and therewith gives a shright.  
And when he sees that all is gone, both light, and sight, and all.  
Than shrieking out: he thus begins upon the Gods to call.  
Now spare you Gods, now spare at length my country priest to fall.  
I have done that you did command: Your wraths revenged be.  
This wretched look, this mangled face, is fittest now for me.  
Thus speaking, down the blackish blood by streams doth gushing flow  
Into his mouth. And clottered lumps of flesh the place doth strew  
Wherein he stands.  
Beware betimes, by him beware, I speak unto you all.  
Learn justice, truth, and fear of God by his unhappy fall.  Chorus. 
man's life with tumbling fatal course of fortune's wheel is rolled,  
To it give place for it doth run all swiftly uncontrolled.  
And Cares & tears are spent in vain, for it cannot be slayed:  
sith his decree of heavenly powers perforce must be obeyed.  
What mankind bided or does on earth it cometh from above,  
Then wailing groans powered out in grief do nought at all behoue.  
Our life must have her pointed course, (alas) what shall I say.  
As fate's decree, so things do run, no man can make them stay.  
For at our birth to Gods is known our latter dying day.  
No Prayer, no Art, not God himself may fatal fates resist.  
But fastened all in fixed court, unchanged they persist.  
Such end them still ensues as they appointed were to have,  
Than fly all fear of Fortune's change, leek hot to live a slave  
enthralled in bondage vile to fear. For fear doth often bring  
Destinies that dreaded been and mischiefs feared upon us fling.  
Yea many a man hath come unto his fatal end by fear.  
Wherefore set peevish fear aside, and worthy courage bear.  
And thou that subject art to death. Regard thy latter day.  
Think no man blessed before his end. Advise thee well and stay.  
Be sure his life, and death, and all, be quite exempt from misery:  
Ere thou do once presume to say: this man is blessed and happy.  
But out alas, see where he comes: a wretch withouten Guide,  
Bereft of sight. Half spoiled of life: without all Pomp, and Pride  
(That unto king's Estate belong.)  

THE fift act. THE SECOND SCENE.  OEdipus. Chorus, jocasta. 
WEll, well, 'tis done: more yet? No, no,  
no mischiefs more remain.  
My Father's Rites performed are.  
What God on miser's pains  
That rues within this Cloud hath rolled,  
and wrapped my wretched Pate.  
Ah sir: this is a life alone.  
This is a happy State.  
This is a case e'en fit for thee,  
for thee thou wretch, for thee.  
From whose accursed sight the Sun, the Stars and all do flee.  
Yet mischiefs more, who gives to do? The dreadful day I have  
Escaped. Thou filthy Parricide: thou vile mischievous Slave.  
Unto thy right hand nought thou ow'st, all things performed be.  
O woe is me that ever I lived this luckless day to see.  
Where am I now? Alas, alas, the light and all doth me  
Abhor: O wretched OEdipus this look is first for thee.  CHO. 
See, see, where jocasta comes, with fierce and furious mood,  
Quite past herself. For very rage she frets and waxeth wood.  
Much like to Cadmus daughter mad, who late her Son did kill.  
fain would she speak her mind: for sear (alas) she dares not: still  
She stays, and yet from out her breast these ills have quite exiled  
All shame fastness. See how she looks, with countenance fierce & wild.  IO. 
fain would I speak, I am afraid. For what should I thee call  
My Son? doubt not. Thou art my Son. My Son thou art for all  
These mischiefs great: alas, alas I shame my Son to see.  
O cruel Son. Where dost thou turn thy Face? Why dost thou slay  
From me. From me thy Mother dear? Why dost thou shun my sight?  
And leave me thus in misery, with Cares consumed quite.  OE. 
Who troubles me? Let me alone. I thought not to be found:  
Who now restores mine Eyes to me, Mother? or Mother's sound?  
Our labour all is spent in vain, now may we meet no more.  
The Seas divide those meetings vile that we have had before.  
The gaping earth divide us both, th'one from th'other quite.  
Still let our feet repugnant be. So shall I shun the light  
That most of all me grieves. So shall I space obtain to wail  
These bleeding woes on every side, that do my thoughts assail.  IOC. 
The Destentes are in fault. Blame them, Alas, alas, not we.  OED. 
Spare now. Leave of to speak in vain, spare now O Mother me,  
By these Relics of my dismembred body I thee pray.  
By mine unhappy Children pledges left. What shall I say?  
By all the Gods I thee beseech. By all that in my name  
Is good or bad, let me alone. Alas you are to blame  
To trouble me. You see what hell my hapless heart doth pain.  
You see that in my Conscience ten thousand horrors rain.  IOC. 
O dying heart: O sin-drowned soul. Why dost thou faint alas?  
Why dost thou seek and toil in vain these ills to overpass?  
What mean these sighs, & scalding tears? why dost thou death refuse?  
Thou mate of all his mischiefs thou, by whose means only rues  
The law of nature all: by whom, Ah, Ah, confounded lies,  
Both God, and man, and beast, and all that either lives or dies.  
Die thou, dispatch at once thrust through thy vile incestuous breast:  
Thou hast none other means (alas) to set thine heart at rest.  
Not thou, if God himself, if he his flaming fires should throw  
On thee, or mischiefs all by heaps upon thy body strew  
Couldst once for thy deserved ills due pains or vengeance pay:  
Some means therefore to wreak God's wrath upon thyself assay.  
Death, death now best contenteth me, then seek a way to die.  
So mayst thou yet at length find end for all thy misery.  
O Son lend me thy hand: sith that thou art a parricide.  
This labour last of all remains, this labour thee doth bide.  
Dispatch rid me thy mother dear from all my deadly woe  
It will not be: no prayers avail. thyself this deed must do.  
Take up this sword. Go to, with this thy husband late was slain.  
Husband? thou termest him false: he was thy sire: O deadly pain.  
Shall I quite through my breast it drive? or through my throat it thrust?  
Canst thou not choose thy wound? away: die, die, (alas) thou must.  
This hateful womb then wound (O wretch) this, this with thine own hand  
Strike, strike it hard: (O spare it not) sith both a husband, and  
(The same a Son it bore.)  CHOR. 
Alas, alas, she is slain, she is slain, dispatched with a push:  
whoever saw the like to this: see how the blood doth gush.  
O heavy doleful case: who can this direful sight endure  
Which for the hideousness thereof might tears of stones procure.  OED. 
Thou God, thou teller out of Fates. On thee, on thee, I call,  
My Father only I did owe, unto the Destinies all.  
Now twice a Parricide, and worse than I did fear to be:  
My Mother I have slain. (Alas) the fault is all in me.  
O OEdipus accursed wretch, lament thine own Calamity,  
Lament thy state, thy grief lament, thou Caitiff borne to misery.  
Where wilt thou now become (alas?) thy Face where wilt thou hide:  
O miserable Slave, canst thou such shameful torments bide?  
Canst thou which hast thy Parents slain? Canst thou prolong thy life?  
Wilt thou not die? deserving Death: thou cause of all the grief,  
And Plagues, and dreadful mischiefs all that Theban City press.  
Why dost thou seek by longer life, thy sorrows to increase?  
Why dost thou toil and labour thus in vain? It will not be.  
Both God, and man: and beast, and all abhor thy Face to see  
O Earth why gap'st thou not for? why do you not unfold  
You gates of hell me to receive? why do you hence withhold?  
The fierce Infernal Fiends from me, from me so wretched wight?  
Why break not all the Furies lose this hateful head to smite  
With Plagues? which them deserved hath (alas) I am left alone,  
Both light, and sight, and comfort all from me (O wretch) is gone.  
O cursed head: O wicked wight, whom all men deadly hate.  
O Beast, what meanst thou still to live in this unhappy state?  
The Skies do blush and are ashamed, at these thy mischiefs great  
The Earth laments, the Heavens weep, the Seas for rage do fret.  
And blustering rise, and storms do stir, and all thou wretch for thee.  
By whose incest, and bloody deeds all things disturbed be.  
Quite out of course, displaced quite, O cursed fatal day.  
O mischiefs great, O dreadful times, O wretch, away, away.  
Exile thyself from all men's sight, thy life half spent in misery,  
Go end consume it now outright in thrice as great calamity.  
O lying Phoebe thine Oracles my sin, and shame surmount:  
My Mother's death amongst my deeds; thou never didst recount.  
A meet Exploit for me that am to Nature deadly Foe.  
With trembling fearful pace go forth, thou wretched monster go,  
Grope out thy ways on knees in dark thou miserable Slave.  
So mayst thou yet in tract of time due pains, and vengeance have,  
For thy mischievous life. Thus, thus, the Gods themselves decree.  
Thus, thus, thy Fates: thus, thus, the skies appoint it for to be.  
Then headlong hence, with a mischief hence, thou caitiff vile away.  
Away, away, thou monstrous Beast. Go, Run. Stand, stay,  
lest on thy Mother thou do fall.  
All you that wearied bodies have, with sickness overpressed.  
Lo, now I fly: I fly away, the cause of your unrest.  
Lift up your heads: a better state of Air shall straight ensue  
When I am gone: for whom alone, these dreadful mischiefs grew.  
And you that now, half dead yet live in wretched miser's case.  
Help those whom present torments press forth, high you on apace.  
For lo, with me I carry hence, all mischiefs under Skies.  
All cruel Fates, Diseases all that for my sake did rise,  
With me they go: with me both grief, Plague, Pocks, Botch, & all  
The ills that either now you press, or ever after shall.  
With me they go, with me: these Mates been meetest of all for me.  
Who am the most unhappiest wretch that ever Sun did see.  
FINIS.