THYESTES A TRAGEDY. Acted at the Theatre-Royal, By their MAJESTY'S SERVANTS  
Written by Mr. CROWN.  
LONDON, Printed for R. Bently and M. Magnes, in Russel-street, in Covent-Garden near the Piazza's, Anno Domini, MDCLXXX   

The Song at Atreus his Banquet.  

1.  
A Lovely pair endowed by Fate,  
With Loves and Beauties whole Estate;  
At the sweetest game have been,  
You know, you know what I mean;  
You know, you know what I mean.   

2.  
For Kisses first the Lovers played,  
The pleasant sport provoked the Maid  
To that height, she growing mad,  
Had almost played for all she had;  
But the Maid was not so mad.   

3.  
She'll ask her Father's leave she swears,  
And then she'll play for what he dares,  
Leave is had, and to't they go;  
What I mean, you know, you know.  
What I mean, you know, you know.   

4▪  
To deeper Play, they now begin,  
The happy young man's hand is in,  
Both have staked down all their joys,  
But she loses, for she cries:  
See! she cries! oh! see she cries!   

5  
But now the Bride, oh! tempting sight!  
Has won her lapful of delight,  
To deeper Play, she urges on;  
But, alas! his stakes are gone,  
But, alas! his stakes are gone.   

6  
And now she locks her Cabinet,  
But he'll play another set,  
When his hand again is in,  
You know, you know what I mean,  
You know, you know what I mean.   A Chorus of Priests. 

Goddess Minerva, Wise, Austere,  
Sober, Valiant, chaste, and Fair,  
We bring thee here,  
A Kind, a Young, a Lovely Pair;  
Who beg thy leave to join their hands,  
In chaste and Holy Marriage-bands.   

1 Pr. Oh! Let him be active Fire,  
Ever burning in desire,  
Ever free  
From any smoke of Jealousy.   

Let her be water, soft to all his touches,  
Ever hot when he approaches,  
When he takes away his Eye,  
Even froze with Chastity:  
Long let love possess her heart,  
And ne'er let Love and Beauty Part.   The First Chorus Sung over again.  

PROLOGUE.  
WHat cursed Planet o'er this Play house reigns,  
Palsies, and Gouts, are all the Old men's gains;  
And we young men, ere we have learned to speak,  
Have learned the Old men's cursed trick, to Break.  
Some went to Scotland; they had cunning Plots  
Who went to sell the English wit to Scots.  
Scots in that traffic excel you I fear,  
Witness their Covenant they sold you so dear:  
So those young men are come as wealthy home,  
As they return devout who go for Rome:  
But still we are followed with a cursed blast,  
For in the harbours mouth we have split our Mast,  
And such Poetic Jewels perish here,  
As might be worn with pride in any Ear;  
Our massy treasure we shall ne'er buy up.  
But live on poor slight stuff that floats atop.  
To day like cunning Romish Priests we try  
If we can awe you, with an ancient lie.  
Some say you must not dare to pass a doom,  
On what has been admired by Greece and Rome.  
You upstart Sectaries of wit cry down  
What has for twenty ages had renown?  
The world will ask (in scorn of your dispraise)  
Where was your wit, Sirs, before Shakespears days?  
No matter where, we'll say you've excellent sense;  
If you will please to let us get your pence.  
We like the Pope regard not much your praise,  
He Tickets sells for Heaven, and we for Plays;  
〈…〉 ll but to make advantage of the Keys;  
〈…〉 y for your Tickets, and go where you please.   

The Persons of the Tragedy.  

Atreus' King of Argos.  
Thyestes Brother of Atreus.  
Philisthenes Son to Thyestes, in love with Antigone.  
Peneus an old Philosopher, once Tutor and Governor to Atreus.  
Aerope Wife of Atreus.  
Antigone. his Daughter in love with Philisthenes.   
SCENE Atreus his Court.   

THYESTES A TRAGEDY  


ACT I. SCENE I.  Thunder: The Ghost of Tantalus, Megaera. SCENE the Palace. Tan. 
THOU merciless, detested, horrid Fury:  
To what new Colonies of mocking Fruits,  
And vanishing false Streams, dost thou transplant  
The Hungry Thirsty Shade of Tantalus?  Me. 
To Colonies, where thou shalt eat and drink  
Thy fill in quiet.  Tan. 
Wilt thou cloth me then  
In Flesh and Blood again? For had I them  
Thou wouldst permit me to devour myself.  Me. 
I lash thee hither, to devour thyself;  
Monsters I mean descended from thyself.  
Thou lazy Ghost hast done thy work by halves:  
I chased thee hither once, to fill thy House  
With Incest, Treason, Blood. Incest I see,  
Brother whored Brother's Wife: Treason I see,  
Brother deposed his Brother from his Throne;  
But where's the Blood? I see no blood at all,  
Th' incestuous Traitor is in Exile safe.  
Let me have Murders, such as all my Snakes  
May rear themselves to see, and hiss Applause.  
The Father eat the Nephew he begot;  
The Bastard Nephew go out of the World,  
A way more horrid than he came into it▪  
Let the vast Villainy of thy damned Race  
Reach, and confound the Heavens; make the Night  
Engender with the Day; the groaning Day  
Bring forth Gygantick darkness at full Noon,  
Such as for hours may pluck the Sun from Heaven.  
At this black Feast, I'll let thee be a Guest,  
Devour thy fill in quiet, when thy Cup  
Flows with the Blood of thy incestuous Race,  
Nothing shall dare to snatch it from thy Lips.  Tan. 
Return me to my dark dire Prison in Hell,  
And all you tortured Spirits hug your pains;  
Nor, might you be released, return to Life;  
For Earth in Sin and Torment exceeds Hell:  
Finish thy execrable work thyself,  
The pain is more than I am bound to bear.  Me. 
Look'st thou for Laws and Equity in Hell?  
Thy Sword was all thy Reason upon Earth,  
And this is ours.  Tan. 
Oh! hold thy gnawing Whip,  
I will obey.  Me. 
Enter the Palace then;  
Here with thy Son didst thou once feast thy Gods,  
With thy great Grandsons now Feast all the Furies.  [The Scene is drawn, Atreus asleep. 
Behold a Shadow of thy pains in Hell  
Heired, by thy Grandson Atreus upon Earth;  
Night seems to offer him her shady Fruit,  
And squeeze her Balmy slumbers in his Eyes,  
And when he catches at 'em, she pulls back,  
So from the Evening's Valley to the Morning Hill  
He rowls his time, as Sisyphus his Stone.  
The trembling Shade obeys, and pours himself  
Into the Palace, which shakes more than he.  [Ex. Tan. 
Nature's diseased and scared at his approach;  
Trees shed their Leaves, as poisoned men their Hair;  
Streams crowd into their Mother-Fountain's Womb;  
The Seas that hung on the Corinthian Neck,  
Like Rival Queens in endless interview,  
Swelled with Convulsion Fits, run foaming back,  
Nor can be held by all their watery Train;  
And in their fright miscarry of new Isles.  
Winds scour the Air like midnight Revelers,  
Mad with strong Spirits they ne'er drunk before.  
Night used to Apparitions, sweats at this,  
And calls the Morning up, Morn dares not rise,  
But like a timorous Virgin lower creeps.  [Enter Tantalus. 
The work is done!— Atreus begins to rise,  
And rising raves, descend damned Shade; the Earth  
Cannot support at once Atreus and thee;  
You both will break both Poles.— Descend to Hell.  [Tan. and Me. descend: Atreus rises. Atr. 
All of the sudden quiet? is the Masque  
Concluded then, and Furies gone to rest?  
Then Furies may have rest, though I'm denied:  
The Gods grudge me what they bestow on Hell.  
What Nights have I? Sure I mistake for Night's  
Whole pieces torn out of th' Infernal Blacks,  
To wrap the Furies whilst they sport themselves  
In this cold upper Air, by torturing me.  
Confound you Furies, why do you vex me?  
Is Earth grown good, that you want work below?  
I'm sure my share has wickedness enough,  
And find my Brother, and I'll fill your hands;  
Mean while torment me not with Nightly pains,  
Want of revenge is pain enough to me.  
Till revenge Crowns me, I am still deposed,  
A Contemned, Artless, Nerveless, Spiritless Slave,  
A loaded emptyness, on which my Brother,  
Like a God, hangs an Universe of wrongs.  
Ho! there!  [Enter a Waiter. 
1. Your Royal Will.  Atr. 
Thou fawning Dog!  
Thou lazy useless Cur, how long wilt thou  
And all thy fellow Curs, with flattering Tongues,  
Lie licking my wide Wounds, and not hunt out  
The Savage Beast, from whom I had 'em all?  
My gaping aching wounds can ne'er be cured,  
Till they are tented with his naked Bones.  
By Tantalus, my wicked Grandfather  
Who feared no Gods, by my more wicked self,  
Who have no fear of Gods, or Men, or Devils,  
Bring me Thyestes all to pieces torn,  
ere I be racked by one more restless Night,  
Or you, and all the Race of you shall die;  
For I'll leave nothing upon Earth to groan  
For all your Deaths, but the o're-loaded Trees,  
On whose torn boughs in Clusters you shall hang.  [Enter a Second. 2. Sir, Tereus is returned from the strict search Of Prince Thyestes. Atr. 
Ha! go bring him in.  Enter Tereus. 
Now speak the Tidings, yet thou needest not speak,  
Thy trembling Joints bow under evil news,  
Death fills thy Face, and stands as in the Door  
Ready to take possession of the House.  
Thy Eyes, like Evening-lights before their time  
Consumed with Storms, are ready to go out,  
And let thy Soul in darkness scape away:  
But first I'll make it lay its burden down.  
Speak, can Thyestes yet be found?  Ter. 
Not yet.  Atr. 
Then from this hour thou shalt be found no more.  1. Great Sir.— Atr. 
Nor thou!— thus will I use you all;  [Stabs both. 
For you are Traitors all, hired Traitors, all  
Bribed by Thyestes, you are all his Slaves,  
He governs here in Argos, and not I;  
I am his Slave, poor Slave; I have not Wealth  
Enough, to purchase from his Head one Hair;  
Yet he can buy my Peace, my Throne, my Wife,  
And after all can keep me on the Rack  
In my own Kingdom; in the midst of all  
My Slaves and Guards, a Slave can rack a King,  
An exiled Slave a King; so many Friends  
In Heaven, Earth, and Hell, has Villainy.  Enter Antigone with Agamemnon and Menelaus, Infants. Atr. 
Now! what art thou?  Ant. 
Antigone.  Atr. 
What's that?  Ant. 
Your Daughter, Sir.  Atr. 
And are you sure o' that?  
By Heavens, thy Mother was so rank a Whore,  
That it is more than all the Gods can tell  
What share of thee is mine.  Ant. 
You have been pleased  
To think me all your own.  Atr. 
I have been pleased  
To be a Fool, and think thy Mother too  
Was all my own, and chaste.  Ant. 
So sure she was,  
Though any Chastity may be surprised.  
However, Sir, we came—  Atr. 
To make me mad?  
Was it for that?  Ant. 
No, Sir, to make you Calm:  
You have been pleased sometimes to take delight  
In most unworthy me, and in these two  
Poor innocent young Princes, who did ne'er  
Offend you yet.  Atr. 
How! not offend me yet?  
Then should two flames, all of the sudden burst  
Out of the Hill, on which my Palace stands,  
The Hill upon whose brow by night I sleep,  
By day I take my prospects of my delight,  
The horrid flames would not offend me? ha!  
By all the Gods, these damned incestuous Brats  
Are the eruptions of a burning Whore,  
More hot than Aetna.  Ant. 
Oh! Sir! howe'er my Mother sinned of late,  
Yet I have heard yourself sometimes confess  
You thought her innocent when we were born.  
She never saw my wicked Uncle's Face  
Till after we were born.  Atr. 
And what o' that?  
Are there no men to sin withal but he?  
What a vast Monster dost thou make thy Mother?  
At the first minute of her Birth in Sin,  
To conquer Nature, cancel all her Laws,  
Do more than Fiends have done these thousand years?  
No, no, so well of her do I believe,  
I rather think she always was a Whore,  
And by degrees, ascended to this height:  
Oh! how I loved that Woman! oh! the Gods!  
Why in her stead was I not doomed to love  
Some ghastly, grim, devouring, Hellish Fury;  
Whose Hairs were Serpents, and her breath a plague;  
Whose Bones were Gibbets, and her Nerves Iron Chains;  
Whose Eyes were Comets, and her Voice was Thunder,  
Whose Teeth were Hooks all gored with humane blood;  
Whose Flesh and Blood was a devouring bog,  
Compounded of all poisons in the world?  
In her abhorred embrace I had not found  
So many Deaths and Hells as I do now.  Ant. 
Gods! if my Mother sinned against such love,  
And sinned so foully as some say she has;  
Pour all your vengeance on her impious head,  
And spare the injured King; his heavy wrongs  
Are sufferings great enough for all his sins.  Atr. 
Gods! with what witchcraft did this woman deal?  
She has transformed me to I know not what,  
I am a mingle of Fool, Tyrant, Devil,  
Madman, and Child, for by the Gods I weep,  
Who ne'er did so in tenderest Infancy.  Ant. 
Hard were the Heart that would not melt at this.  Atr. 
I am a madman too, I tear myself,  
Cause him ●ought to tear I cannot reach:  
I'm such a Tyrant, were he in my reach,  
I'd teach the Fur 〈…〉 to torment the damned.  
I was not always thus, this hellish mind  
Was the Creation of that cursed woman;  
Whom yet I love, so rank a Fool am I,  
And for her sake, her sin-begotten brood,  
For which I loathe myself, away with 'em.  Ant. 
Pray, Sir.  Atr. 
How now? Resist my will? Begone,  
Or on the floor I'll mingle ah your Brains▪  
What hinders me from killing these lewd Brats?  
Sure it is Hell, which is afraid to lose  
Fruit of a Stock, the like was ne'er before:  
Hence from my sight you Bastards, or my Guards  
Shall bear you hence upon their Halberd points.  Enter Peneus. Pen. 
Get you hence, Children; leave the King to me:  
Go, fair Antigone, your Planets lowr,  
I like 'em not; but Children yours shine out:  
Prince Agamemnon, Oracles agree,  
Shall lay a glorious Empire in the Dust,  
And Menelaus be the chiefest Cause.  
But yet no Oracle did utter this  
Without ill-boding sounds; then Children hence:  
Argos perhaps may perish by your Death,  
And that sad way the Oracle fulfilled.  [Ex. An. Agam. Mene. Atr. 
How now, old Dotard, what is thy business here?  Pen. 
Business I have, or I would ne'er come here:  
A Court is not a place for an old man;  
'Specially if in dotage so far gone▪  
As to be honest.  Atr. 
Hence with thy old Cant;  
That was the unintelligible stuff  
Thou taughtest my foolish Youth; which now I find  
All nonsense, and not fit for Prince's Courts?  Pen. 
What is not Virtue fit for Prince's Courts?  Atr. 
No, 'tis an Art of washing o'er false Coin,  
And stamping Images of Gods, on Knaves:  
Thou seem'st the humblest Creature in the World,  
The Fool that into flaming Aetna leapt,  
To be esteemed a God, had not more pride.  
Thou flingest thyself into the jaws of want,  
To be adored, and thought a Godlike man.  
He strove to disappear in Flame and Smoke,  
And thou in cloudy words of good and wise.  Pen. 
I served so faithfully your Royal House,  
Upwards of threescore years, that I believed  
I might assume the name of honest man,  
Since it was all the wages I desired.  
When did I ever wrong you in my life,  
That you should throw this scandal on my age?  
I speak for Virtue's sake, and not my own,  
Lest all men should forsake her for a Cheat.  
I'll do her right, as I'm in Conscience bound,  
And boldly tell you, Virtue makes my Age  
More pleasant, than your Kingdom does your Youth.  Atr. 
Thanks to Thyestes.  Pen. 
He has wronged you indeed.  
But what have your obedient Subjects done?  
And you kill them; to save their lives I came.  Atr. 
They hide the Traitor.  Pen. 
I believe the Gods  
Hide him, lest you by death should set him free  
From greater punishments which they inflict:  
Vengeance belongs to Gods, and they devour  
Their luscious Morsels of Revenge alone.  Atr. 
I'll find their Banquet out, and have my share,  
I care not what it cost me; let our famed  
Great House Pelops tumble on my head,  
So damned Thyestes perish under me.  Pen. 
You'll make yourself as odious as he;  
Almost as impious too.  Atr. 
I would be more,  
I would do all that Villainy to him,  
That he can only wish were done to me,  
I have no other way to prove myself  
His Elder Brother, and a lawful King.  
For he of us that is the greatest Fiend  
Ought to be King of Argos, 'cause he gives  
The greatest proof of Tantalus his blood.  
And I'll appear no Bastard to the World.  Pen. 
What will your People say?  Atr. 
I'll make 'em say  
What I command.  Pen. 
Falsehoods perhaps you may.  Atr. 
That is the great Prerogative of Power,  
To tax the world for Praise as well as Coin;  
I'll make 'em praise my actions good or bad.  Pen. 
Yes whilst you live you may, but when you are dead  
The world will curse you to Eternity.  Atr. 
My Name will live then to Eternity.  Pen. 
So will your Soul, but lost.  Atr. 
Let 'em but live,  
No matter how.  Pen. 
Fear you not Men or Gods?  Atr. 
The Fear of Gods ne'er came in Pelops House.  Pen. 
Think you there are no Gods?  Atr. 
I find all things  
So false, I'm sure of nothing but of wrongs.  Pen. 
Then fear your injured Subjects, for the beams  
Of Virtue breed the Golden Mines of Praise;  
But Vice the Iron of Rebellion.  Atr. 
Let them fear that! oh! I am mad, I burn,  
Furies with flaming brands are in my breast:  
Their Snakes with their own poison almost burst;  
And every Vein o' mine contains a Snake.  
Ho! there! bid Mycenae get in Arms,  
I will pour all my Kingdom upon Greece.  Pen. 
And who shall guard your Cities then?  Atr. 
The Furies.  
They are their Temples, and beloved abodes.  Pen. 
Oh! Sir!  Atr. 
Away! or I will spurn thee hence;  
I am transported from myself— arm!— arm!—  
I'll do!—  Pen. 
What will you do?  Atr. 
I know not what,  
Something that all the Gods shall tremble at.  [Ex. Pen. 
How miserable a thing is a great man?  
Take noysie vexing greatness they that please;  
Give me obscure, and safe, and silent ease:  
Acquaintance and Commerce let me have none,  
With any powerful thing, but time alone:  
My rest let time be fearful to offend,  
And creep by me, as by a slumbering Friend;  
Till with ease glutted, to my Grave I steal,  
As men to sleep after a plenteous Meal.  
Oh! wretched he! who called abroad by power,  
To know himself can never find an hour.  
Strange to himself, but to all others known,  
Lends every one his Life, and uses none,  
So e'er he tasted Life, to Death he goes,  
And himself loses, ere himself he knows.  [Exit.   


ACT II. SCENE II.  Philisthenes and Antigone meet. SCENE the Mouth of a Cave in a Grove. Ant. 
OH! my Philisthenes, sad news! sad news!  
My cruel Father's Fever of Revenge  
Grows on him every hour, night brings him all  
The restless shades of Hell, day all the Flames,  
He's ever calling for thy Father's Blood:  
How greedily would he drink thine more sweet?  
But do not fear; as soon as Night appears  
Away we'll fly from this accursed place,  
Devoted by our Fathers to all ill:  
By thine to Incest, and by mine to blood.  Phi. 
Oh! Gods! what dreadful miseries must befall  
Th' unhappy Offspring of two such bad men?  Ant. 
Our Innocence and Love will guard us safe:  
I have prepared a Chariot for our flight  
To the Aegean Sea, and there a Boat  
Lies locked at Anchor, in a Creek so small,  
It seems a little Closet of the Sea,  
Where Maiden Calms lie hid from Ruffian Winds:  
The Creek appears a wrinkle made with age,  
In a high Promontories bending brow.  
The little Harbour is o'erlooked by all  
But a poor humble Fisherman, whose Hut  
Is all the Castle that commands the Port:  
There needs no Porter where there is no Door.  
Nothing they think can creep out o' that Chink.  
The honest Fisherman expects us both  
ere Night be old; then let us fearless fly,  
We cannot lose our way, for we transport  
Our Journeys end along with us, ourselves.  Phi. 
What Beauty, and Love, do I to Misery lead?  
Oh! Love! I lead thee from thy Father's rage  
To a more cruel Tyrant, merciless want!  
My Father's sins have pressed him down so low,  
He stoops to eat the Charitable Bread  
Of a poor aged Man, Peneus by Name.  Ant. 
I knew that man: oh! that's a good old man!  Phi. 
Where he conceals my Father, I know not;  
He would not trust the secret with my Youth,  
For fear I should be cheated by ill men;  
But from my Father oft he Presents brings,  
Such as his miserable Fortune yields:  
Their chiefest value is my Fathers Love.  
Now shall I steal thee from thy Father's Court,  
And cannot give thee for it a poor Cave?  Ant. 
I foresaw this, and all my Jewels brought:  
Those with our Love will make a great Estate.  Phi. 
Oh! you kind Gods! which way have I deserved  
Such wondrous Love, from such a wondrous Maid?  Ant. 
What have I done with 'em?— I have 'em not—  
I have not lost 'em sure.  
I left 'em in my Chamber, I did ill,  
For I abhor to thrust my head again  
Within that cursed House, which is a Sink  
Where Jove throws all the scum of all ill stanes;  
And Furies watched my absence, I'm afraid,  
To set my Jewels in some baleful Charm:  
But I'll go fetch 'em; hide! oh! hide, my Dear!  
Down to the darkest corner of the Vault.  Phi. 
Oh! let me see thee, as long as e'er I can.  Ant. 
No, no, 'tis dangerous, down, down, my Love!  
Oh! Cave, be faithful to thy precious trust,  
And all the youthful Lovers in the World,  
With flowery Wreaths shall crown thy rocky brow,  
Shall make a Temple of thee, and adore  
Night's little Picture that adorns thy Walls,  
Night Lover's Goddess, and Eternal Friend.  
Farewell my Love.  Phi. 
Farewell my Dear!— my Eyes  [Ex. Ant. 
Are fastened to her steps, and I must look  
Whate'er it cost me.  Enter a Captain of the Guard with a Guard, and seize Phil. Capt. 
And 'twill cost thee dear.  Phi. 
Betrayed? ha! what are you?  Capt. 
King Atreus Guard.  Phi. 
Oh! I am lost!  Capt. 
Indeed young man, thou art  
So lost, I pity thee; and would it cost  
No life but mine, by Heaven, I'd set thee free.  
But were it known, 'twould cost a thousand Lives;  
My single Life would to the raging King  
Be but like a little Pillar to the Sea;  
Not stop the Waves, but make 'em foam the more.  
And that 'twill be discovered is as sure  
As there are Spies and Villains in a Court.  Phi. 
What have I done, the King should seek my Life?  Capt. 
Thy Father sinned both for himself and thee.  Phi. 
I from my Father receive no Estate,  
'Tis hard I should inherit all his Faults.  Capt. 
May the King use thee as thou dost deserve.  Phi. 
Since you have so much pity, I dare beg  
For my Dear Love; (whom I must see no more!)  
I know you overheard our talk!  Capt. 
We did.  Phi. 
Oh! spare her Life; and do not tell the King  
She loves unhappy me.  Capt. 
No, no, dear Youth,  
For our own sakes we'll hide it from the King:  
Small trust he'd put in us, if he should find  
His daughter false.  Phi. 
She is not false; but Fate  
Deals ill with her, to cast her Love on me.  Capt. 
Ah! cruel Chance, that brought me to this Cave,  
To ruin this unhappy lovely pair.  Phi. 
Ah! poor Antigone! ah! wretched me!—  Ex. Phi. with the Guard. At another Door enter Antigone. Ant. 
Methought complaining sounds came from the Cave;  
The sounds of differing Voices were composed;  
I'm in a horrid Agony with fear!  
I cannot stay, yet forward dare not go.  
Forward I must; how deadly cold I am,  
As if death stood between the Cave and me?  
If I meet not my Love, I shall with Death:  
He is not in the Cave; where is he wandered?—  
My Love! Philisthenes— my Love, my Love!  
Where art thou hid? Come hither, I am here,  
Antigone is here!— my Love— My Love.  
Oh! nothing answers, he is seized!— he's lost!—  She falls in a Swoon. Enter Peneus. Pen. 
Ha! what is she, that sleeps in open Air?  
Indeed the place is far from any path,  
But what Conducts to melancholy thoughts;  
But those are beaten Roads about this Court.  
Her Habit calls her, noble Grecian Maid;  
But her sleep says she is a Stranger here.  
All Birds of Night build in this Court, but Sleep;  
And sleep is here made wild with loud Complaints,  
And flies away from all; I wonder how  
This Maid has brought it to her lure so tame.  Ant. 
Oh! my Philisthenes!  Pen. 
She wakes to moan;  
Ay! that's the proper Language of this place!  Ant. 
My Dear! my poor Philisthenes is seized!  
I know 'tis so! oh! Horror! Death! Hell!— oh!  Pen. 
I know her now, 'tis fair Antigone!  
The Daughter and the Darling of the King,  
This is the Lot of all this Family.  
Beauteous Antigone! thou know'st me well;  
I am old Peneus, one who threescore years  
Has loved and served thy wretched Family,  
Impart thy sorrows to me, I perhaps  
In my wide Circle of Experience,  
May find some Counsel that may do me good.  Ant. 
Oh! good old man! how long have you been here?  Pen. 
I came but now.  Ant. 
Oh! did you see this way  
Poor young Philisthenes? you know him well.  Pen. 
Thy Uncle's Son? Thyestes eldest Son?  Ant. 
The same! the same!  Pen. 
No, all the Gods forbid  
I should meet him so near thy Father's Court.  Ant. 
Oh! he was here, one cursed minute past.  Pen. 
What brought him hither?  Ant. 
Love to wretched me.  
Our warring Fathers never ventured more  
For bitter hate, than we for innocent Love.  
Here, but a minute past, the dear youth lay;  
Here in this brambly Cave lay in my Arms;  
And now he's seized! oh! miserable me!  [She tears her Hair. Pen. 
Why dost thou rend that Beauteous Ornament?  
In what has it offended? hold thy hands.  Ant. 
Oh! Father! go and plead for the poor Youth!  
No one dares speak to the fierce King but you.  Pen. 
And no one near speaks more in vain than I;  
He spurns me from his presence like a Dog.  Ant. 
Oh! then—  Pen. 
She Faints! She Swoons!— I frightened her!—  
Oh! I spoke indiscreetly!— Daughter! Child!  
Antigone! I'll go!— indeed— I'll go!—  Ant. 
There is no help for me in Heaven or Earth.  Pen. 
There is, there is, despair not sorrowful Maid,  
All will be well— I'm going to the King,  
And will with powerful reasons bind his hands;  
And something in me says I shall prevail;  
But to whose care shall I leave thee mean while?  
For, oh! I dare not trust thee to thy grief.  Ant. 
I'll be disposed of, Father, as you please,  
Till I receive the blessed or dreadful doom.  Pen. 
Then come, dear Daughter, lean upon my arm,  
Which old and weak is stronger yet than thine,  
Thy Youth has known more sorrow than my age.  
I never hear of grief, but when I'm here:  
But one days diet here of Sighs and Tears,  
Returns me elder home by many years.  [Ex. Pen. Ant. SCENE the Court. Enter Atreus, Captain of the Guard. Atr. 
Thyestes eldest Son fallen in my Hands?  
I find the Gods are tired with holding up  
The ponderous Villain, long above my Sword,  
And mean to let him fall, in the mean while  
They fling his Race like Vipers from their hands.  
Bring in the Youth—  Enter Guard with Philisthenes. 
How now Boy? what Affair?  
What vast Affair, in value worth a Life,  
Made thee adventure to this dangerous place?  Phi. 
Love to my native soil; I came to see  
The Court and Kingdom of my Ancestors;  
And this great Palace where I had my birth:  
For I was told King Atreus was so good,  
He pardoned and forgot his Brother's faults?  Atr. 
How bold and ready art thou in a lie?  
Who could inform thee I had pardoned faults  
Which cannot be forgiven by Men or Gods?  
To what strange thing didst thou believe me turned  
To a tame Beast? no Beast but loves Revenge:  
To a mild God? He cannot be a God  
That wants Revenge. 'Tis a God's chief delight,  
They mark it for their own: what than a Tree?  
Alas! why did not thy good Father come  
And whore my Wife under my Bawdy Shade?  
So dumb a Husband need not have been feared,  
Nor such a piece of Lumber of a King.  
And thou didst come to cut me down, in hopes.  
My Subjects were as weary of my Life,  
As thy lewd horrid Father has made me.  Phi. 
I scorn an act so Villainous and base.  Atr. 
What crowd is this assembled in my Breast?  
My Soul's a Theatre with Furies filled.  [Asidè. 
The Ghastly throng fling all their eager looks  
Upon a Table spread with mangled Limbs,  
And smoking bowls o'er gorged with reeking blood;  
Their Eyes grow larger with the pleasing sight;  
And the deluded Guest, who eats his Son,  
Stamps all their Cheeks with a malicious smile  
The Vision takes! the Story's great and brave,  
I'll give it my Revenge to Copy out.  
Now with my Daughter I'll entice this Youth  
To cheat his Father with a proffered Crown.  
To meet a Crown, he'd rush on thundering Jove,  
Plunge in the Sea when Winds and Billows fight,  
Or on deep quicksands, that would swallow hills;  
Nay, worse than all these joined,— he would meet me—  
Yes, and he shall— (Aside.) Philisthenes, bold Youth;  
Something in thee has made Friends in my heart,  
Who by plain force have mastered my Revenge,  
After a long and fierce and dubious fight,  
And make it bow to offer thee thy Life.  
What sayst thou, Youth? hast thou a mind to live?  Phi. 
Let Nature answer for me.  Atr. 
But to live  
On the ill terms of being Friends to me?  Phi. 
What God puts those good thoughts into your Soul?  Atr. 
Thy own desert; I love thee, noble Youth.  Phi. 
Oh! I am overwhelmed?  [weeps and falls at the King's Feet. Atr. 
The sweet Youth weeps,  
And prostrates at my Feet; this must not be:  
Rise, rise, my own best blood, my own best self,  
The Hope and Pillar of our falling House:  
What wilt thou disobey my first command?  Phi. 
Which of the best of Gods have done this good?  Atr. 
Come to me, near my Heart, within my Heart.  
As soon as ever I beheld thy Eyes,  
Something flew from'em, like a Charming God,  
And bid the Furies leave my troubled Breast;  
They struggled hard, but now they are all gone;  
And now my heart is free for all my Friends.  
Oh! that I had thy Father in my Arms;  
In what perfection would be my full joy?  Phi. 
And can you be so excellent to forgive  
My Father too?  Atr. 
Ay! sooner than myself.  
My barbarous Rage I never shall forgive.  Phi. 
How good are you? For you had been most kind,  
When you most heavily was wronged.  Atr. 
No more;  
Dear Youth, let all thy Father's Errors die;  
My mortal spite shall only be at them,  
And his too lasting hatred. Would I knew  
Where my poor wandering exiled Brother roved,  
That I might send, or rather go myself  
To Court him to my Arms, and to a Crown,  
To be my Friend, and be my King, his turn.  Phi. 
And do you mean it, Sir?  Atr. 
That is unkind!  
Dost thou suspect my Truth?  Phi. 
I do not, Sir;  
But I am so transported with my Joy,  
I know not what I think, or what I say.  Atr. 
Then know'st thou where thy Father is, dear Youth?  Phi. 
I do not, Sir; but good old Peneus does.  Atr. 
Does he indeed?  Phi. 
Yes, my poor Father, Sir,  
Has all his bread from him.  Atr. 
Oh! false old Rogue!—  [Aside. 
Alas! poor Brother, art thou fallen so low,  
To live upon old Servants broken Meat?  
But, good old Peneus, thou giv'st what thou hast,  
By all the Gods thou shalt have thy reward.  
See, here he comes! come hither pious man.  Enter Peneus. Pen. 
What means this change?—  [Aside. Atr. 
I am to give thee thanks  
For my own innocence, my Brother's Life;  
It seems, 'tis thou, that hid him from my Rage,  
And given him Bread, and starved my fierce revenge.  Pen. 
Who told you this?  Atr. 
Nay, be not startled, Man;  
No other hurt is meant thee, than my Love;  
But I'm so bad a Man, men shun my Love,  
And think the Gods curse all whom I embrace.  Pen. 
I'm sure you once were good, but potent wrongs.  
To flaming vengeance grappled you so fast,  
I thought no Art or Strength could set you free.  Atr. 
A thousand things conspired thy strong advice:  
The tempting sight of this most noble Youth;  
And last my Nature tired with standing bent  
Always to ill, bowed down by force of wrongs,  
Starts up for ease, to its own posture, Love;  
Love of my Bother, this dear Youth his Son;  
And of my sovereign happiness, my Wife:  
What think you, Sirs, did I not love my Wife?  Pen. 
Your passion for her hatred showed your Love;  
Though some believe she's wronged as much as you.  Atr. 
Faulty or not, so powerful was my Love,  
My wounded dying Love, had greater strength  
Than all my rage in its most vigorous Youth,  
And held me from her Life, that still she lives.  
'Tis true, in heavy sorrow, so she ought  
If she offended, as I fear she has,  
Her hardships though she owes to her own choice.  
I've often offered her my useless Couch;  
For what is it to me? I never sleep.  
But for her Bed, she chooses the hard floor.  
My Table is spread for her; I never eat:  
And she'll take nothing but what feeds her grief.  
Haircloth and Chains she wears, but by that means  
She makes me wear'em, 'cause I feel her pains.  Phi. 
Oh! how Report has wronged this excellent King?  Atr. 
But now I've hopes to see my Brother's Face:  
My spacious Arms extend to Heaven and Hell;  
And I've the choice of both, which is soon made.  
Oh! Peneus! bring my Brother to my Arms,  
And greater joy shall lift the downcast head  
Of Pelops House, than ever it beheld.  
I'll give my Daughter to my Brother's Son,  
And then our joys are fastened at the root.  Phi. 
I shall run mad with Joy.—  [Aside. Pen. 
Is not this Art?  [Aside. 
Methinks on this so fine Carved Pedestal,  
An Image with two Faces I discern.  Atr. 
Dear Peneus, hasten on thy Embassy.  Pen. 
An Embassy that's worthy of a God;  
And would I were a God, that I might find  
The wandering Prince, and finish this blessed work.  Atr. 
Know'st thou not where he is then?  Phi. 
Oh! yes, Sir!  
Ah! Peneus, why do you distrust the King?  Pen. 
Ah! poor deluded Youth—  [Aside. Atr. 
He fears I'm false;  
I blame him not, for I am a bad man:  
I deserve all the wrongs I have endured;  
All I desire is leave to pardon wrongs.  Phi. 
Oh! Father of my Father, thou whose great  
And pious Charity preserved his Life,  
Do not destroy us all by needless doubts.  Pen. 
Gods! guide me in this doubtful Labyrinth.  [Aside. 
Let me not be misguided by vain doubt,  
To be the death of seeming newborn joy:  
But if the King dissembles, (oh good Gods!)  
Let not my age, and this unknowing Youth,  
Be worse misguided both, to be the death  
Of his dear Father he, I of my Friend.  Atr. 
The wary wise old man distrusts me still.  
Oh! Brother, thou hast Friends, but I have none.  Pen. 
Yes, I am, Sir, your Friend, as much as his:  
But more to Faith and Honesty than both▪  Atr. 
Well, I will put my Kingdom in thy hands.  
Behind the Palace, in a sacred Field,  
Secured by twenty Walls, and watched by Guards,  
Rests all the Fortune of our Royal House.  
A shining Ram whose yellow Fleece is Gold;  
The Sands of Tagus are not half so rich;  
Whoever has possession of this Beast,  
Has all the Fortune of our House in pawn,  
An Hostage all our Gods cannot redeem,  
They are in perfect Friendship with that Prince  
To whom they send this Wealthy Minister;  Pen. 
By long Experience, Sir, I know all this.  Atr. 
Ho! there! go catch and bind the Sacred Ram.  A Field discovered; a Golden Ram seen in the Head of a Flock of Sheep; a Guard round the Field; they bring the Ram to the King. 
Peneus, this present to my Brother bear,  
As a rich Pledge of my Eternal Love.  
Give it to him, on no Condition,  
But that he come and take his turn to Reign.  Phi. 
Oh! good Gods!  Atr. 
Still dost thou harbour doubt?  Pen. 
Whether I Dream or no.  Phi. 
Oh! on my knees,  
I beg with Tears suspect the King no more;  
I've had no joy in all my Youth till now,  
And now good Fortune, like a Noonday Sun,  
Breaks out upon me, if with Cloudy doubts  
You darken all again, I shall run mad.  Atr. 
I'll say no more; be witnesses ye Gods,  
If never Joy come more under this Roof,  
If it be any, any fault of mine.  Phi. 
Sir, I will bear you witness the short while  
My poor life lasts; which lies in Peneus' hands.  
If he will still keep up this wall of doubt  
'Tween joy and me; I'm at my Journeys end.  
Resolve me. Peneus, will you let me die?  Pen. 
No: but I quickly shall, my feeble age.  
Can never climb up this high hill of joy,  
But I shall faint before I reach the top;  
Howe'er I'll go as far as e'er I can:  
I'll send, for bring is too much joy for me  
(Most excellent King) your Brother to your Arms.  
But I go hence so surfeited with joy  
I shall not live to see you any more.  Atr. 
Oh! stay, thou richest blessing of our House;  
The dear Philisthenes shall go alone.  Pen. 
He is to his Father wonderfully dear;  
But he is young, his Father may distrust  
The weakness of his soft and easy youth.  
My wary faithful age he will not doubt;  
That I must go myself; farewell, good King.  Atr. 
Farewell, thou pious, sacred, blessed old man.  
Farewell sweet Youth, henceforwards my dear Son.  Phi. 
Sir, I would call you,— could I speak for Tears,  
Father,— and giver of my best new life.  Atr. 
My Dear Antigone shall know thy Love;  
I'll tell such Stories of thee, thou shalt find  
At thy return her Love exceeding thine.  Phi. 
Peneus thy hand! I am so stuned with joy,  
I cannot see my way.  Atr. 
My Chariot there!  
And Guards attend 'em— Farewell to you both,  [Ex. Pen. Phi. 
I think I've counterfeited rarely well.  
He who would rule so damned a World as this,  
Where so many dissembling Villains dwell,  
Must cheat the Devil, and out-dissemble Hell.  [Ex.   


ACT III. SCENE III.  Enter Antigone, attended by two Women. SCENE the out-Gates of a Prison. Ant. 
I'M torn! I'm torn! by Sorrow, Rage, Despair!  
No Tidings yet of my Philisthenes?  
I dare not, dare not ask, lest on my head  
I pull the Thunder of some dreadful news.  
Like a low Vale between two raging Seas,  
Of Fear and Hope, I lie, and hourly expect  
A deluge of delight, or of despair.  
But oh! the Seas roll fastest from despair:  
For I like not this new and strange Command  
Sent from my Father, to come visit here,  
In her sad prison, the afflicted Queen.  
(For if she sinned as some believe, I hate  
To call her Mother) but of late she was  
A hated, outcast, and forbidden thing.  
My Father would not suffer to come near  
This doleful dwelling, any thing he loved.  
Then he has heard our Love, and is enraged;  
If so, my dear Philisthenes is dead,  
And with my Mother I'm condemned to die.  
It must be so! I grow exceeding ill.  1. Wom. 
Oh! help! the Princess! help! she faints away.  Ant. 
No matter what I do— let me alone!—  
Oh! my Philisthenes! 'twill not be long  
ere I be with thee!— Call the men that Guard  
The Queen, my wretched Mother.  1. Wom. 
Ho! within!  Enter a Keeper. Keep. 
Who calls?  1. Wom. 
Come to the Princess.  Keep. 
What's her will?  Ant. 
Know you this Signet?  Keep. 
Yes, it is the Kings.  Ant. 
I must have entrance here.  Keep. 
Madam, you shall.  Ant. 
Let the Queen know that by the Kings command  
I come to wait on her.  Keep. 
I'll tell the Queen.  [Ex. Ant. 
Now Gods prepare me for th' afflicting fight.  
For if report be true, the altered Queen  
Is the most doleful Object in the World.  The Scene is drawn, the Queen in Haircloth, Chains at her Legs, she lies on the ground, a Lamp burning by her. Qu. 
My Daughter see me by the King's command?  
What does he mean? No good to us, I fear?  Ant. 
Is that the Queen? Is that my Mother? oh!  Qu. 
My Daughter there? Antigone! my Child!  [Rises and Embraces her. Ant. 
Ah! Mother!  Qu. 
Daughter!  Ant. 
O! my Tears! my Tears!  
I cannot speak!  Qu. 
Weep in my Bosom Child,  
And let thy poor sad Mother weep in thine.  
Come rest thyself, my Daughter, sit thee down  
On the hard Floor, thy Mother's only Bed;  
And hear the mournfull'st Story in the World.  Ant. 
Oh! Mother! Mother!  Qu. 
Oh! my loved, my dear,  
My precious Comfort, dearer than my Life.  
My Life! What is my miserable Life?  
Dear as my Life was in my happy state.  
And happy! oh! too happy once I was;  
My Massy happiness tired out my Fate,  
It could not carry it to my lives end.  
Never did Woman love a Man more dear  
Than I once did, and still do love the King;  
Be witness all the Gods to what I say,  
And ne'er was Woman more beloved by man.  
Than I was by the King,— until— oh! Child,  
I cannot speak how sadly I have been wronged.  Ant. 
Oh! my Dear Mother! I believe you indeed,  
All the Gods know I ne'er thought otherwise.  Qu. 
Thyestes! (oh! Hell is in that Name▪)  
Me his own Brother's Wife, his dear loved Wife,  
Me whom his Brother trusted to his Care,  
Bruitishly forced—  Ant. 
Oh! horrid!  Qu. 
And then sought  
To get, by fraud, the Sacred Golden Fleece,  
The Monument and Instrument of Fate,  
To gain the Kingdom to secure his Sin,  
And retain me a Prisoner for his Lust.  Ant. 
All this I've heard, and ever did believe;  
But no kind God would e'er convey this Faith  
Into my Fathers Soul.  Qu. 
Oh! no, my Child;  
Then think, oh! think, what are thy Mother's wrongs;  
And what her dismal altered sad Estate.  Ant. 
Oh! Gods! was ever any thing so sad?  Qu. 
Oh! I have know the time, I'd not have let  
Such dirty Earth as this come near my Feet,  
Which now is all the Lodging that I have:  
I would not once have vexed my curious Eye  
With seeing such a Garment as I wear,  
Nor suffered to have come into my sight  
So vile a Creature as myself appears.  Ant. 
No more, no more, dear Mother.  Qu. 
O! my Child,  
These outward pains are pleasures, when compared  
With what I feel within me; for the loss  
Of all my honour and my Husbands Love.  
The Heavens are not so spotless as my Soul,  
Nor Gods so fond of Heaven as I of him;  
Yet am I thought a Strumpet, nay a lewd  
Incestuous monstrous Strumpet!— Furies— Hell—  
Stand from me, Child, for I shall do thee hurt;  
My Wits are going; when I think of this  
They always leave me— stand away dear Child.  
Who says I am a Strumpet? is it thou?  
Liar! 'tis well I have thee in my Arms,  
I'll throw thee piecemeal to the Furies— thus!  [Tears herself. Ant. holds her Hands. Ant. 
Oh! Mother! Mother! 'tis yourself you rend.  Qu. 
How now, contend with me? This is a Whore.  Ant. 
Help, the Queen's mad!—  Qu. 
Ay! help me from a Whore  
That comes to get my Husband from my Arms:  
Oh! this is right the Picture of the Age,  
A shining Strumpet, and a tattered Wife.  
Indeed! and am I thus abused for thee?  
Some Water there! I'm burnt out o' my Bed,  
My Husband's Arms, by a hot flaming whore.  Ant. 
Oh! Mother! Mother! I'm Antigone  
Your Daughter! oh! the Queen will kill me! help!  Qu. 
The Fire goes out! alloo! the ashes fly!  [Pulls some loose Ornaments from Ant. 
So, now in the King's arms I will go sleep.  [Falls. Ant. 
Help! help the Queen! what are there none in call?  
Ha! her Heart strongly beats, breath comes and goes  
Upon Life's errand, with no little force.  
Then all is well I hope! she sweetly sleeps.  
Her raving Spirit's in a wild uproar,  
Thrust her in tumults to the Vaults of sleep,  
Then shut the door with violence upon her.  
Sleep on, dear Mother, heal thy wounded mind  
With these sweet balmy slumbers; though, alas,  
'Tis only healed for new and deeper wounds.  
Oh! were there ever two so innocent;  
And yet so miserable as we are?  Enter Keeper. Keep. 
Where is the Queen?  Ant. 
Peace, peace, she's fallen asleep.  Keep. 
The King is coming here to visit her.  Ant. 
The King?  Keep. 
The King.  Ant. 
See in her Sleep she smiles,  
Her Spirits rebound at mentioning a Name  
That has such sweet agreement with her Soul;  
As strings when tuned alike, if one be touched  
The other leaps; and now she starts, as if  
She fain would break through all the Gates of Sleep  
To meet the Voice that bears the pleasing sound;  
And now she wakes.  Qu. 
Oh! I have had a sweet  
Reviving slumber; not these many months  
Have I been so refreshed. Antigone!  
Now I perceive whence I had all my rest,  
From the delight my Soul did take in thee.  
But, oh! my Child! was I not very ill  
Before I slept? did I no hurt at all?  Ant. 
Yes to yourself I fear.  Qu. 
If that be all,  
It is no matter; 'tis as it should be,  
I am the Centre of all Miseries.  
What wander from me, leave their proper course.  Enter Women with a rich Role, and other Attires. Wom. 
Madam, the King—  Qu. 
The King, ha! what of him?  Wom. 
Sends you these Robes, and begs you would be pleased  
With these to hide your misery from his sight,  
And let the wondrous joy he means to take  
In seeing you, be pure from any grief.  Qu. 
Will he see me? and can the sight of me  
Be joy to him? Why does he tell me this?  
He does not well to make the miseries  
Of his poor ruined, injured Wife, his sport;  
I love him dearly, (witness all ye Gods)  
In spite of all my sufferings and wrongs.  Ant. 
Oh! Mother! Mother! sudden beams of hope  
Shine out upon me; oh! there is a change!  Wom. 
Madam, upon our lives we tell you truth,  
The stormed tossed King is on the sudden calm▪  
We know not what should charm the billows down,  
Except the good old Peneus  Ant. 
Oh! no doubt,  
It was the Wisdom of that wondrous man.  Enter Keeper. Keep. 
The King is near.  Qu. 
Fling the Robe loosely o'er;  
I never yet dissembled with the King;  
Nor hid from him was ever yet my heart:  
The wretch I am, let his own Eyes behold,  
I ne'er deserved to be thus cast away.  Enter Atreus attended: The Queen kneels. Atr. 
Kneeling? this must not be!— Rise, Madam, rise.  Qu. 
I do not kneel, Sir, as a Criminal,  
But as an innocent poor Woman, thrown  
By grievous wrongs into a state unfit  
For you to see; I fall upon the Earth  
To hide myself, and save your generous heart  
From the affliction it must bear to see  
My woeful change, whether deserved or not.  Atr. 
Kneeling's a state I cannot bear to see.  Qu. 
You may be, Sir, assured I'll quit it then.  [Chairs brought. Atr. 
Now seat yourself— Madam, I think you'll own  
I loved you well.  Qu. 
I were ungrateful else:  
And I loved you as dearly the Gods know,  
And I have ever been your faithful Wife,  
And ne'er deserved to lose that glorious Name.  Atr. 
Well, Madam, I will show I love you still,  
If you have wronged me, be it to yourself.  
The Gods forgive you freely, as I do:  
If not, Gods bring your innocence to light.  Qu. 
Oh! Gods! good Gods! grant! grant! so good a prayer.  Atr. 
However, Madam, whatsoever you be,  
All things are so forgot, as if the Gods  
Had made a Queen o' purpose for my Love,  
And you were newly come out of their hands,  
Just when they finished you, and said 'tis well,  
We cannot add one beauty to our work;  
So I receive you to my arms and heart.  Qu. 
Oh! this is too much joy for me to bear,  
You build new Palaces on broken Walls.  Atr. 
Madam, Eternal Gates are locked and barred  
On all past deeds, ne'er to be opened more,  
By this new happy meeting of our Lips,  
Which have been Strangers now these many Months;  
You are as dear to me, as when you came  
A fond young beauteous Virgin to my Arms.  Qu. 
How bounteous are the Gods in the Rewards.  
Of suffering Innocence?  Atr. 
Oh! my dear Queen!  
Never admit past sufferings in thy thoughts,  
I'll have this joyful day without one Cloud.  
And joy shall shine through all my Family:  
Even my Brother shall not want his share.  Qu. 
Your Brother!  Atr. 
Yes, I can forgive, even him;  
Nay, have invited him home to my Court,  
Both to receive my Pardon and my Love.  Qu. 
Invite that wicked man home to your Court!  Atr. 
You do not know how dearly once we loved.  Qu. 
Nor you believe how much he injured me.  Atr. 
I know his violent desires by mine;  
We were so one, one Fire must burn us both,  
And where Fire comes all things asunder fall;  
Our Union ruined us, but I'll build  
Our Friendship more magnificent than ever.  Qu. 
Then will my Life as wretched be as ever;  
The sight of him will like a Winter Cloud,  
Darken and Freeze the Joy I have in you.  Atr. 
I send not home for him, who did you wrong,  
But him whose penitence has done you right,  
Wicked Thyestes you shall ne'er see more,  
But new Thyestes so to goodness changed,  
You will know nothing of him but his Name.  
Oppose not then what all the God's design,  
These breaches threaten ruin to our House;  
But the good Gods design our House shall stand.  
Did you ne'er see a weather-beaten Wall  
Breed up young Ivy to support its age?  
By Heavenly care from us bad men is sprung  
An excellent Race, to bind our Friendship close,  
And stop up all the breaches in our House.  
The Gods ne'er made a more accomplished Youth,  
Than his sweet Eldest Son, Philisthenes.  Ant. 
Oh! Gods!  Atr. 
And I have sworn to marry him  
To my beloved Child, Antigone.  Ant. 
With all the pleasing wonder mixed with dread,  [Aside. 
A crowd behold a shining God descend,  
Have I been looking for this glorious news,  
'Tis lighted on me, and I'm overwhelmed.  Atr. 
Child, you have seen your noble Kinsman oft,  
What think you of him? Could you love him? speak.  Ant. 
My thoughts are always in your keeping, Sir.  Atr. 
Well answered, Daughter: Love your Kinsman then,  
Give him your Heart; but give him not such hold,  
But you may take it back, if ill should chance,  
And ill may happen; I have sent the Youth  
With good old Peneus, to invite to Court  
My exiled Brother; if he should not come,  
I should relapse into my grief again.  
The Noble Youth, at parting, left with me  
A wealthy Token for you, his dear Love:  
But you shall take no Presents from the Son,  
Unless the Father first accept of mine:  
Which for my Comfort beg of Heaven he may.  Ant. 
Oh! how devoutly will I make that Prayer?  Qu. 
Oh! wondrous goodness!  Atr. 
Now my dearest Wife,  
And my Antigone, embrace me both.  Qu. 
Oh! Sir!  Ant. 
Oh! Father!—  Atr. 
Oh! my perfect joy,  
Come let our newborn pleasures breathe sweet air;  
This Room's too vile a Cabinet for Gold.  
Then leave, for ever, Love, this doleful place,  
And leave behind thee all thy sorrows here,  
And dress thyself as this great day requires;  
'Twill be thy Daughter's Nuptials, and I dreamed  
The Sun himself would be ashamed to come  
And be a Guest in his old tarnished Robe,  
But leave my Court t' enlighten all the Globe.  [Ex. Enter Thyestes. SCENE a Cave in a Desert. Thy. 
Astonishment! Confusion! how came I  
To be the horrid Villain that I was?  
I had it not from Nature; if I had,  
Why did it not break out in many years:  
How could I carry such a load of sin  
And feel no pain? Did Custom dull my sense?  
No, for as soon as e'er my greedy Eyes,  
Numbering the Treasures of my Brother's Bed,  
Had stolen more Appetite than I could appease,  
I bowed beneath the weight, and could not rest  
Till I had laid it on his Bed again.  
Perhaps I felt no sin, because I lived  
In th' Element of sin, my Brother's Court.  
Things in their Element lose all their weight;  
Water in water feels as light as Air.  
No, 'twas not that; I was the first that brought  
Incest and Treason to my Brother's Court.  
From my own self came all my Villainy;  
Had I not been a Dunghill, Beauty might  
Have shined as wholesomely on me, as others.  
I loath, detest myself, and fly mankind,  
Counting the worst of men too good for me.  
Hark! I hear voices!— nay, and I see men;  
They're very near me too, I'll hide my head.  Thy goes into a Caur. Enter Peneus and Philisthenes. Pen. 
Here dwells your Father.  Phi. 
In this Wilderness?  Pen. 
Here in this Cave.  Phi. 
Ah! lonely, poor abode.  Pen. 
'Tis his own choice: I proffered him my House,  
Where I had Rooms to hide, and ways to fly,  
In case of danger; but he rather chose  
This melancholy Desert, and this Cave.  
I'll call him out to you. Thyestes! ho!  
Ho! Prince Thyestes! know you not the Voice  
Of your old faithful Peneus?  Enter Thyestes. Thy. 
Peneus here?  Phi. 
Is that my Father? oh ay how sadly changed?  Thy. 
Who hast thou here, old Friend?  Phi. 
One you may trust,  
Half your own self, your Son Philisthenes.  Thy. 
My Son?  Phi. 
My Father—  Thy. 
Welcome to my arms,  
My Hope, my Comfort!— Time has rolled about  
Several Months since I have seen thy Face,  
And in its progress has done wondrous things.  Phi. 
Strange things indeed, to chase you to this sad  
Dismal abode, nay, and to Age I think.  
I see that Winter thrusting itself forth,  
Long, long, before its time, in Silver Hairs.  Thy. 
My fault, my Son, I would be great and high;  
Snow lies in Summer on some Mountain tops.  
Ah! Son, I'm sorry for thy noble Youth,  
Thou hast so bad a Father; I'm afraid  
Fortune will quarrel with thee for my sake▪  
Thou wilt derive unhappiness from me,  
Like an hereditary ill disease.  Phi. 
Sir, I was born when you were innocent,  
And all the ill you have contracted since,  
You have wrought out by painful penitence.  
For healthy joy returns to us again.  
Nay, a more vigorous joy than e'er we had.  
Like one recovered from a sad disease,  
Nature for damage pays him double cost,  
And gives him fairer flesh than e'er he had.  
For a spoiled Cottage, she bestows a Brief.  
On all her works, that doubles what he lost.  Pen. 
Your Son Philisthenes, has told you truth:  
The King your Brother, by what God transformed  
I cannot tell, is turned an excellent man.  
He has no memory of all Errors past,  
Except his own; the chief of which he counts  
His too immoderate passion for revenge.  Thy. 
And can this be?  Pen. 
Will I not tell you truth?  Thy. 
By thy own goodness, art thou not deceived?  
Thou d well'st in open truth, and when thou com'st  
Among dark men, thou know'st not what they are.  Pen. 
Oh! Sir, my reason is not dim with age,  
What e'er my Eyes are; time which steals our sight,  
Is for the Thievery by Nature fined,  
To make us recompense in inward light.  
Know, Sir, I did not lend your Brother Faith,  
Without a Pawn, as wealthy as his Crown;  
The Golden Ram, let this prevail, not I  Thy. 
I stand amazed, for what would this prevail?  Pen. 
To make you glorious in your Brother's Throne,  
Your Brother happy in the sight of You.  Phi. 
And me in the possession of my Love:  
I love his Daughter, fair Antigone,  
And he has sworn to place her in my Arms,  
whenever to his Arms I can bring you.  Thy. 
This is too much; a man that would revive  
His famished Friend, would never cram him thus:  
He chokes my Faith with gorging it too fast,  
And surfcits sickly Friendship with a Feast.  Pen. 
Can you suspect, when you have such a pledge?  Thy. 
If the King be so good, 'twere a new Treason  
To blast him with my fight.  Pen. 
Your penitence  
Restores entirely all your innocence,  
And now your presence would restore your Joys.  Thy. 
Things are miscalled, I ne'er was blessed till now:  
When I was great, I had not one delight:  
Who needs a Taster has small joy in tastee.  
Who needs a Guard for safety, ne'er are safe▪  
And who needs watching, has but little rest.  
What solitude so bad, as throngs of Knaves?  
What dwelling so uneasy as is his,  
Who in a thousand Rooms can take no rest,  
Till his proud Palace has beat back a Sea,  
And lifted up a Forest on its brow?  
Say Poison come not in a Prince's Cup,  
Care will, and that's as bad; say Care should not,  
Intemperance may, which is as bad as both;  
A lingering Poison that consumes our time,  
Our Nights in drunkenness, our Days in sleep.  
Say he ne'er see the bloody face of War,  
A thousand Dishes are a dangerous Camp,  
Where very often men have met with Death,  
Among those fair pretended Friends of Life;  
Nor is his rest the more for silent peace,  
In Calms of peace, when all without is still,  
Factions within will make a Kingdom roll.  Pen. 
No doubt these Evils, and a thousand more,  
Attend on Royal greatness; but what then?  
Will you adventure nothing for your Friends?  Phi. 
Oh! Father! humbly on my knees I beg,  
Go to the King, if for my sake alone.  Thy. 
For thy dear sake alone I fear to go,  
I fear to make thee guilty of my blood.  Pen. 
What reason have you to distrust the King?  Thy. 
He has had heavy wrongs, and no revenge.  Pen. 
Is Poverty and Exile no revenge?  
Shame and Repentance is revenge enough  
To a good man.  Thy. 
It cannot be denied.  Pen. 
Can you not say he once was a good man?  Thy. 
The best of Kings, and Brothers?  Pen. 
Did he e'er  
Show any hate to you, till you wronged him?  Thy. 
Oh! never! never!  Pen. 
Did he then requite  
Your hate so ill, as you returned his love?  Thy. 
Oh! no!  Pen. 
Why judge you then of him so ill?  
Since you could make him turn from good to ill,  
May not the Gods turn him from ill to good?  Thy. 
It cannot be denied.  Pen. 
Are you not turned?  
Would you fain act o'er all your Crimes again?  Thy. 
I'd rather die?  Pen. 
Do you excel him so,  
That goodness shall be reconciled to you  
On easy terms, but on no terms with him?  Thy. 
I think him a much better man than I  Pen. 
Since you are changed, why may not he be so?  
I leave it to your choice, believe the King,  
And make up all the breaches of your House,  
Or begin new Confusions by your stay;  
Affront the King, and make him shed the blood  
Of your dear Son, and me your just old Friend,  
Hue Nations down to make his way to you,  
Whilst Curses in full cry shall hunt you out,  
As the great common mischief of the world:  Thy. 
No more, no more, I'm overcome— I'll go—  Pen. 
Oh! Gods! I thank you for so good success  
In my good Embassy.  Phi. 
And in my Love.  Thy. 
You Divine Guardians of these innocent Woods,  
My only Friends of all the Heavenly Powers;  
Who here so faithfully have hid me long,  
And blessed my mind with penitence and ease,  
If you can bear the wickedness of Courts,  
Go with us thither, and preserve us there:  
Not but my life to Justice is a debt;  
But let not my dear Son, and good old Friend,  
Prove guilty of shedding their own blood and mine,  
By undertaking such a good Design.  
For who will Virtue follow, and obey,  
If when she is their Guide, men lose their way?    


ACT IV. SCENE IU.  Enter Thyestes, Philisthenes, Peneus. SCENE Mycenae▪ Thy. 
OH! wondrous pleasure to a banished man!  
I feel my loved, long looked for Native Soil;  
My former Incest (horrid to be named)  
Gave me not greater pleasure, than this new  
Innocent Incest with my Mother Earth.  
And oh! my weary Eyes, that all the day  
Had from some Mountain traveled toward this place,  
Now rest themselves upon the Royal Towers  
Of that great Palace where I had my birth.  
Oh! sacred Towers! sacred in your height,  
Mingling with Clouds, the Villas of the Gods,  
Whither for secret pleasures they retire.  
Sacred, because you are the work of Gods;  
Your lofty looks boast your Divine descent,  
And the proud City which lies at your Feet,  
And would give place to nothing but to you,  
Owns her Original is short of yours.  
And now a thousand Objects more ride fast  
On morning beams, and meet my Eyes in throngs.  [A shout. 
And see all Argos meets me with loud shouts.  Phi. 
Oh! joyful sound.  Thy. 
But with them Atreus too.  Phi. 
What ails my Father, that he stops and shakes,  
And now retires?  Thy. 
Return with me my Son,  
And old Friend Peneus, to the honest beasts  
And faithful desert, and well seated Caves;  
The Beasts declare their Natures without fraud:  
Trees shelter man, by whom they often die,  
And never seek revenge; no Villainy  
Lies in the prospect of an humble Cave.  Pen. 
Talk you of Villainy, of Foes and Fraud?  Thy. 
I talk of Atreus.  Pen. 
What are these to him?  Thy. 
Nearer than I am, for they are himself.  Pen. 
Gods drive these impious thoughts out of your mind.  Thy. 
The Gods for all our safety put 'em there:  
Return, return with me.  Pen. 
Against our Oaths?  
I cannot stem the Vengeance of the Gods.  Thy. 
Here are no Gods, they've left this dire abode.  Phi. 
Oh! Father! Father! if not for my sake,  
For all our Family, all the Kingdoms sake,  
Bring your dear fellow Exiles peace and joy  
To Argos, who does Court'em with a Crown.  
Oh! look upon the Splendour of a Crown;  
See from the rising King it dawns this way;  
Oh! look upon it Father.  Thy. 
Yes, I do,  
As I have often looked upon the Sun,  
When I have seen him heave a thousand Waves  
In brimming Spouts, up to his Lips to drink,  
To spit 'em all in the Seas Face again,  
Or on some Desert, where they only served  
To cool a while the thirst of burning Sands:  
So are we all by Royal splendour sucked  
Up to the Clouds, to be let fall again  
Upon some dreadful unexpected Fate.  Pen. 
True Race of Tantalus! who Parent like  
Are doomed in midst of plenty to be starved.  
His Hell and yours differ alone in this;  
When he would catch at joys they fly from him,  
When Glories catch at you, you fly from them.  Thy. 
A fit Comparison; our joys and his  
Are lying Shadows, which to trust is Hell.  
What? Shall I trust my Brother and a Crown,  
Two the uncertain'st things, I was about  
To say, the falsest things in the whole world?  Phi. 
I must be wretched then.  Thy. 
Well, for thy sake,  
Though I trust not the King, I'll trust the Gods.  Enter Atreus pompously attended. Pen. 
The King is near,— and now his Eye is laid  
Firmly upon you, and has seized you fast.  Atr. 
The beast is snared!— and I'm as fierce for prey,  [Aside. 
As the big Spartan Dog, when the fell Boar  
Laggs within reach of his long stretching neck.  
He breaks the Couples, from the Huntsman gets,  
And knows no Master but his love to blood.  
My love to blood will from my Fraud get loose:  
But what a thing he is? Exile and Grief  
Serve him so slovenly up to my Board,  
It palls my Stomach; but I'll garnish him  
With Princely Robes.— Oh! Brother! to my Arms—  
My Arms, dear Brother; render me your long  
Desired Embrace.  Thy. 
Oh! I have forseited  
The Title of your Brother; do not, Sir,  
Revile the honoured Name, by giving it  
To me your humble penitent poor Slave.  Atr. 
Away to everlasting. banishment  
The odious memory of all moment's past,  
And all their Progeny.  Thy. 
I had prepared  
Excuses for my Crimes, and what were truth;  
But this amazing Piety and Love  
Render me past excuse, the worst of men.  Atr. 
Must these dire thoughts, like Harpies, hover round  
Our Friendship still? Hence with 'em to abodes  
More hid from man, than those from whence you came.  
And rise! oh, rise to my embrace! what means  
This low unfitting posture?  Thy. 
It means more  
Than words can speak; I never kneeled before:  
Then guess the honour I would pay to you.  Atr. 
I in the kindest manner take the sense,  
But do not like the Language of the Knee;  
'Tis between Brothers an ungrateful Tongue.  
Then rise to me, or I will kneel to you;  
We will be equal.  Thy. 
That shall never be:  
I'll rise to your command; and so I still  
Bow in obedience low.  Atr. 
Once more your arms,  
My dearest Brother.  Thy. 
My most excellent King.  Atr. 
Now dear Philisthenes! thy arms, sweet Youth.  Phi. 
Sir, give me leave to fall and kiss your Feet.  Atr. 
Indeed it shall not be.  Phi. 
Pray suffer me.  Atr. 
No, hang upon my Neck, thou art my Son:  
Wilt thou not own the Title of my Son?  Phi. 
Not own it, Sir?—  Atr. 
Now last let me embrace  [Embraces Peneus. 
The standing blessing of our Family.  Pen. 
Had I been only born for this good hour,  
And all my fourscore years a desert Road,  
Without one joy to ease my Pilgrimage,  
This Journeys end had made amends for all.  Atr. 
Good man!  Phi. 
Now Father, do you credit us?  [Too Thy. Atr. 
Still there are Clouds that darken my delight,  
My Brother's Garments— Brother spare my Eyes,  
And with these Royal Ornaments conceal  
These Relics of deceased unhappiness.  The Attendants give Thyestes rich Robes. Thy. 
Sir, These foul Garments are the Livery  
Of a good Master, sorrow for my sins.  Atr. 
But you shall have no Master in my Court;  
For with these Ornaments receive my Crown.  Takes his Diadem from his head, and gives it to Thyestes. Thy. 
A second Usurpation? Gods forbid!  
If my more fitting Garb offend your Eyes,  
Let me lie hid among th' attending Crowd.  Atr. 
You shall be hid no more.  Thy. 
I'm great enough,  
Whilst you are so; Friendship so makes me yours,  
In lessening your own self, you lessen me.  Atr. 
It is more great to give, than wear a Crown.  Thy. 
And to refuse more glorious than to give;  
That is the share of greatness I will choose;  
And you invited me to take my share.  Atr. 
I did, then both of us will be thus great,  
I in my Crown, you in excelling me.  
But see my Aerope, my dearest Queen.  Enter the Queen attended, and richly habited. Thy. 
My shame, my horror, my Eternal Hell.  Aero. 
Your spacious goodness, Sir, has farther reached  
Than guilt could fly; and has invited home,  
To all the glories of your Court, a man,  
I'll boldly tell it him before his face,  
For whom Hell has not punishment enough.  
There is a Creature, for whom Heaven has scarce  
Rewards enough, oppressed with heavy wrongs,  
And is not suffered to breathe open Air.  Atr. 
What is this Creature?  Aero. 
Injured Innocence:  
Which before man and Gods I claim for mine.  
And I entreat you, nay, conjure you, Sir,  
Not as you are my Husband, but my King,  
The Representative of the Just Gods,  
To bring my innocence into the light,  
And if the Sun himself has not more spots—  Atr. 
You'd have my Brother speak your innocence?  
What need? I have exactly weighed your cause?  Aero. 
I'll have the Balance hanged upon Sun beams,  
That Heaven and Earth may see my innocence—  Atr. 
My Throne exalts it into all men's view.  Aero. 
Sir, it exalts your goodness, and not mine:  
Unless you Crown my Fame as well as me,  
I only bear the luggage of your praise.  Atr. 
The world may be assured I've not a doubt.  Aer. 
But nothing in the World shall have a doubt.  Atr. 
By the Eternal Gods, the Whore commits  [Aside. 
Incest in fancy with the Villain here,  
Before my Face: The very sight of him  
Has got her Spirit big with Insolence.  Thy. 
Sir, you but lately offered me your Crown;  
I for a moment will assume the gift,  
And be a King; that is, be uncontrolled,  
Whilst I declare the Queen's wronged innocence.  Atr. 
What need all this? I know what you would say.  Thy. 
I ravished her, and Hell did ravish me.  Atr. 
And I, who have been wronged by both of you,  
Must, for my Recompense, be disobeyed.  
Nature (I find) has to the Birth and Death  
Of every thing annexed tormenting pangs.  
Pangs wait upon the Birth of our new joys,  
And our past ills die with Convulsion fits.  Aer. 
My innocence is cleared, and now dispose  
Of me, Sir, at your pleasure.  Thy. 
And of me.  Atr. 
Then thus I will dispose of all of you.  
My Broher to my Friendship and my Crown.  
To my delighted bosom, my dear Queen.  
To my Antigone, this noble Youth.  
This good old man to my rewards, and thanks.—  
Do you all weep for joy? Come dry your Eyes;—  
My Love shall be too hot for such light dew.  
Now let the Trumpets reparation make,  
For frightening Argos with the sounds of War,  
And set hearts dancing to the sounds of Peace.  
Let the pale Mothers trembling for their Babes,  
Now dandle 'em in their Arms with smiling Cheeks.  
Return the Husband's back to their young Wives,  
And let not Armour hinder their embrace.  
Let Swords wear Rust, the Livery of Peace,  
Let every Door be with a Garland Crowned,  
And all the Conduits surfeited with Wine,  
Till they o'er flow with infinite excess.  
And now prepare the Temple, Altars, Priests,  
For the great Ceremony of the Day.  
Call my Antigone to meet her Love.  
Brother, lead on— indeed you must— you shall—  Ex. Thy. Atreus, Aerope, and as they go off Antigone enters, runs to Philisthenes, and emberaces him. Ant. 
My Love!  Phi. 
My Love!  Ant. 
Oh! my excessive joy.  
And is this possible? oh! God gods Gods  
When I lost thee at the unfaithful Cave,  
Did I ere think to find thee with this joy?  Phi. 
When I was seized and dragged before the King,  
Did Ie're think that this should be my Death,  
To die in thy embraces with delight?  Ant. 
This was the art of the Celestial Powers,  
To hold their Jewels up at a high price.  Phi. 
The Gods give nothing cheap, but misery.  
What have I suffered for this happiness?  
I have a large account to bring thee in.  
And thou shalt pay it all, I will extend  
All the Estate of Beauty which thou hast.  Enter a Gentleman. Gent. 
The Temple is prepared, the Priests attend;  
The Court expects you with impatience, Sir.  Phi. 
Is't possible? And does Love stay for us?  
Pardon us Love, thou ne'er didst so before:  
Since thou art so impatient for thy work;  
By all the Gods I'll find thee work enough.  [Ex. The Scene a Temple. Priests at the Altar, Enter Atreus, Aerope, Thyestes, Philisthenes, Antigone, Peneus, Attendants. The Nuptial Ceremony performed; they come out of the Temple. The Scene continueth. Atr. 
Now, Madam, you shall entertain the Bride.  [To Aero. 
The Bridegroom I have chosen for my Guest.  
And Daughter, you shall spare him for an hour,  
To Gods that fill our lusty bowls with Wine,  
We usually pour some in gratitude.  
Daughter, I've filled your Life brimful of Joy,  
And you shall offer the first hour to me.  
So long the Bridegroom is my Sacrifice.  
Stay in the Temple, noble Youth, a while,  
I will return to thee immediately,  
I would unfold to thee some mysteries.  Aerope and Ladies lead out Antigone at one Door: At another go Atreus, Thyestes, Peneus. Philisthenes follows as to wait upon the King— after a short pause Priests bring in Phi. stripped and bound. Phi. 
Ha! what means this?  Priest. 
'Tis by the King's command.  Phi. 
What does the King intend?  Priest. 
We cannot tell.  Phi. 
You lie.  Priest. 
Why should we lie?  Phi. 
'Cause ye are Priests.  
It is your Trade to lie, you live by lies.  
Your Temples are your shops where you sell lies.  Priest. 
What lies sell we?  Phi. 
Why, any lies you please;  
Fools take 'em off your hands at any rate.  
You Cheats, you Murderers, you Quacks of Hell,  
You keep mankind diseased to vend your Drugs.  
The King was cured of his disease, Revenge,  
And you have sold him some Religious lie,  
Has poisoned him with Cruelty again:  
And I among you shall be murdered here—  
barbarously murdered.  Priest. 
Who should murder you?  Phi. 
Need I doubt that, when I am among Priests.  Priests. 
Why do you wrong us thus?  Phi. 
How, I wrong you?  
Can any one wrong Priests? King's wrong themselves  
And all the world, they do not hang you all.  
For Kings are never safe, nor Subjects good,  
Where Priests prevail; you keep the Power of Kings,  
And only let 'em have what share you please.  
You take the foolish people's Consciences,  
And give 'em back what honesty you please;  
You keep the Keys of womens' Chambers too,  
And let men have what share in 'em you please:  
When you deliver up a Marriage Lock,  
You still reserve a Key for your own use:  
But Men or Women may play any game,  
And cheat their fill, if they will pay your Box.  
Oh! my Antigone! Antigone!  
Thou little think'st thy beauteous Eyes have had  
Their last, last view of poor Philisthenes,  
A bloody Carcase, or a moaning Ghost  
Is all that ever thou wilt see of me;  
For I am in Priests hands, and the world knows  
How little they will leave of what they grasp.  
Why do you use me thus, you Murderers?  Pr. 
You wrong us, we abhor the bloody name.  Phi. 
Will you not murder me?  Pr. 
We'll rather die.  Phi. 
Nor aid the King to do't?  Pr. 
Nor aid the King:  
But we must sacrifice you.  Phi. 
Oh! you Dogs;  
What differs that from murder but in name?  
Oh! how these Villains cheat the world with names?  
Were Wolves, or Lions ere the tamer Beasts,  
For being called Lambs, give murders, Massacres,  
Good names, they are transformed to excellent works.  Phi. 
The King has vowed you to th'infernal Gods.  
And 'tis our duty to assist his Vows.  Pr. 
And should the people enter into Leagues,  
And vow the King to the infernal Gods,  
For money you would aid their hellish Vows,  
And curse all honest men that would not aid.  
Religion's made by you a Lottery Book,  
Which cheats the world of every thing they have.  
Oh! Gods! deliver poor mankind from Priests:  
But oh! who can deliver wretched me?  
For I am in their dark Dominion here;  
One of Hell's strongest frontier Garrisons.  Enter Atreus. Atr. 
Philisthenes?  Phi. 
Yes, Sir— what is your will?  
Why have you ordered me to be thus bound?  Atr. 
To die.  Phi. 
For what?  Atr. 
Thou art Thyestes Son.  Phi. 
That's not my fault.  Atr. 
But a damned fault of his,  
To dare to multiply his cursed self,  
And send a filthy and incestuous Stream  
To poison all the Ages of the World;  
But here it stops, I'll turn its course to Hell.  Phi. 
I thought y' had pardoned all my Father's faults.  Atr. 
Thou art a Boy, thy Father is a Fool,  
Peneus a Dotard, all run up to Beard;  
I have ensnared you all, to feed my Fiends,  
As men hunt savage Beasts to give their Dogs.  
But tyrants' Furies are so highly fed,  
That mine will scorn the Souls of such damned Fools.  Phi. 
Y' embraced us all with Vows and Oaths and Smiles,  
And promises of everlasting love;  
Can such disguises well become a King?  Atr. 
They are thy Fathers own cast visards all.  
He embraced me with Vows and Oaths and Smiles,  
Then made my Wife an everlasting Whore.  
Now more— the Cauldron and the Fire.—  Phi. 
For what?  Atr. 
To serve thee, as thy Father has served me;  
He has enkindled such a Fire in me,  
As boils my Flesh in my own scalding blood.  
I'll boil thy Heart in thy own purest blood,  
To treat thy Father at thy Bridal Feast.  Phi. 
Oh! Hell! all Hell is in your words and looks!  
Why start you not at your own dreadful voice;  
For 'tis a Devil's voice, and not a man's;  
And Hell pours all its rage into your Breast.  Atr. 
Then Hells an Ass to throw away its rage,  
On a heart, full as it could hold before▪  Phi. 
Oh! horror!  
Are these my Nuptial joys?  Atr. 
Such as thy Father's fins provided thee.  Phi. 
Oh! my Antigone! Antigone!  
Tyrant thank her for all the tears I shed.  Atr. 
Canst thou be tortured with the loss of her?  Phi. 
More than with all thou canst inflict besides.  Atr. 
By all thy torment then, guess half of mine,  
Thou losest but the half of what thou lov'st,  
Only her sight a while, and with no shame.  
My Aerope was once as dear to me;  
Her Heart was stolen, and body whored for me,  
That I have lost all of her, and with all shame.  Phi. 
I must acknowledge, Sir, your wrongs are great  Atr. 
And my revenge shall equal all my wrongs.  Phi. 
But why on me? unless you mean to spare  
My Father; and if so, pour all on me.  Atr. 
I cannot wound they Father, but through thee  Phi. 
Oh! spare me! spare me! for your own sake  
See the Gods threaten you in Prodigies.  
Your Palace nods to bid you have a care.  Atr. 
My Palace shakes for fear of its own Fate;  
It did assist thy Father in his Crimes.  Phi. 
The Temple Columns bend, to beg my life.  Atr. 
Did Gods come down to beg thy hated Life,  
Into their Faces I would spurt thy blood.  Phi. 
Then you'll not mind their weeping Images;  
Like frightened women in cold sweats they reel.  Atr. 
Let frightened women mind 'em.  Phi. 
Th' Angry Gods  
Dart fiery Javelins fiercely at your Head,  
But miss it, 'cause their hands with horror shake.  Atr. 
Then I am here the only thing unmoved,  
And I dare do, what nothing dare behold.  Phi. 
Yes Tyrant, I dare see, and suffer too,  
With greater courage, all thou canst inflict,  
Than thou dar'st look on thy own frightful Soul.  Atr. 
How now! what is this?  Phi. 
This is Philisthenes,  
Tyrant, thou never spok'st with me till now.  
The wretched thing that tumbled at thy feet,  
Was but a Garment which thou keepest in pawn▪  
Whilst my Soul went to see Antigone▪  
And take its leave; but now I am come home,  
My Breast will meet thy Dagger when it dares.  Atr. 
I thank you Gods I did not kill this Boy,  
For of the sudden he is grown a man.  
Come Priests.  Phi. 
ay, ever while you live call Priests,  
If you would have a solemn murder done.  Atr. 
Bind with a purple band the Victims head:  
Perpare the Incense, Fire, Knife, wine and Meal.  Phi. 
Oh! spare your pains, Priests are not to be taught  
The way to murder Princes decently,  
As to your sorrow you may quickly find  
If any Rebels shall e'er need your blood.  
But I will give the remnant of my breath  
In one full sigh to dear Antigone!  
What have I suffered long for a short hope,  
Which in a moment perishes with me?  
A short sweet hope was all I had of thee;  
And a long mournful memory will be all  
Thou, dear Antigone, wilt have of me.  
But I will render it so glorious,  
Thou shalt not be quite void of Nuptial joys,  
As I am not in hopes thou all thy life  
Wilt love my name, as I die sighing thine,  
Antigone! oh! my Antigone▪  Atr. 
Then die!— 'tis done— 'tis well— 'tis excellent.  [Atr. stabs Phi. he falls. 
So now Thyestes I shall bring thee in  
A dreadful score for all thy pleasant sin;  
Much dost thou owe me, and much shalt thou pay;  
Gods ask of him the blood is shed to day.  
I lodged the Traitor, and he robbed my throne,  
And whored my Wife, for which I seize his Son,  
If you have title to the blood that's lost,  
Pursue the Robber, not the plundered Host.  [Ex.   


ACT V. SCENE V.  Enter Atreus and Thyestes. A Table and Banquet. SCENE the Court. Atr. 
COme Brother sit;  Thy. 
May not Philistenes  
Sit with us, Sir?  Atr. 
He waits upon the Bride.  
The Queen, the Bride, and Ladies are all sat;  
They are beforehand with us, let us haste  
To overtake 'em.  [Atr. and Thy. sit. Thy. 
Let us bless the Feast  
With the Bride's health— Sir, to the fair Bride's health.  [Both drink. Atr. 
My most dear Brother, I will do you right.  Music. Atr. 
A deeper bowl; this to the Bridegroom's health.  Thy. 
This to the Gods for this most joyful day,  [Thy. pours some wine on the ground, both drink. 
Now to the Bridegroom's health.  Atr. 
This day shall be  
To Argos an Eternal Festival.  Thy. 
Fortune and I to day try both our strengths,  
I have quite tired her lefthand misery,  
She now relieves it with her right-hand joy,  
Which she lays on me with her utmost force;  
But both shall be too weak for my strong Spirit.  Atr. 
So! now my Engines of delight have screwed  Aside. 
The Monster to the top of Arrogance,  
And now he's ready for his deadly fall.  Thy. 
Oh! these extremes of misery and joy,  
Measure the vast extent of a man's Soul,  
My Spirit reaches Fortune's East and West.  
She has oft set and risen here, yet cannot get  
Out of the vast Dominion of my mind.  
Ha! my proud vaunting has a sudden check;  
See! from my Head my Crown of Roses falls.  
My Hair, though almost drowned beneath sweet Oils,  
With strange and sudden horrors starts upright.  
Something, I know not what, bids me not eat;  
And what I have devoured, within me groans,  
I fain would tear my breast to set it free.  
And I have catched the eager thirst of tears,  
Which all weak Spirits have in misery;  
I who in banishment ne'er wept, weep now.  Atr. 
Brother regard it not, 'tis fancy all.  
Misery like night is haunted with ill Spirits,  
And Spirits leave not easily then haunts▪  
'Tis said, sometimes they'll impudently stand  
A flight of beams from the forlorn of day,  
And scorn the Crowing of the Sprightly Cocks:  
Brother 'tis morning with our pleasure yet,  
Nor has the sprightly Wine Crowed oft enough;  
See in great Flagons at full length it sleeps,  
And lets these melancholy thoughts break in  
Upon our weaker pleasures, rouse the Wine,  
And bid him chase these fancies hence for shame,  
Fill up that reverend unvanqushed bowl,  
Who many a Giant in his time has fallen,  
And many a Monster, Hercules. 〈…〉.  Thy. 
If he descends into my groaning breast,  
Like Hercules, he will descend to Hell.  Atr. 
And he will vanquish all the Monsters there.  
Brother, your courage with this Hero try;  
He o'er our house has reigned two hundred years,  
And he's the only King shall rule you here.  Thy. 
What ails me? I cannot heave it to my Lips.  Atr. 
What▪ is the bowl too heavy?  Thy. 
No, my heart.  Atr. 
The Wine will lighten it.  Thy. 
The Wine will not  
Come near my Lips.  Atr. 
Why should they be so strange?  
They're near a kin.  Thy. 
A kin?  Atr. 
As possible, Father and Son not nearer?  Thy. 
What do you mean?  Atr. 
Does not good Wine beget good blood?  Thy. 
'Tis true.  Atr. 
Your Lips then and the Wine may be a kin.  
Off with your kindred Wine, leave not a drop  
To die alone, bewildered in that bowl.  
Help him to heave it to his Head, that's well.  Thyestes drinks; a clap of Thunder, the Table oversets, and falls in pieces; all the lights go out. Thy. 
What ponderous Crimes pull Heaven on our Heads?  
Nature is choked with some vast Villainy,  
And all her Face is black.  Atr. 
Some lights, some lights.  Thy. 
The Sky is stuned, and reels 'tween Night and Day;  
Old Chaos is returned.  Atr. 
It is to see  
A young one born, more dreadful than herself,  
That promises great comfort to her age,  
And to restore her Empire.  Thy. 
What do you mean?  Atr. 
Confusion I have in thy bowels made.  Thy. 
Dire thoughts, like Furies, break into my mind  
With flaming brands, and show me what he means.  
Where is Philisthenes?  Atr. 
Ask thy own bowels:  
Thou heardst 'em groan, perhaps they now will speak.  Thy. 
Thou hast not Tyrant— what?— I dare not ask—  Atr. 
I killed thy Son, and thou hast drunk his blood.  Thy. 
Oh! Villainy so vast it broke the Poles;  
And through the spacious flaw, Hell rushed on Earth.  Atr. 
Thy groaning bowels called up Hell to Earth;  
Wild beasts will follow one another's howls.  Thy. 
Hell came to have an interview with thee,  
The greater Monster; one whose Villainy  
Has scared away the Sun; he would depose  
Himself, ere lend thy wickedness his light.  Atr. 
ere lend my Justice,— but he could lend all  
His wealth to help thee to corrupt my Wife;  
That he and all the Gods may fly for shame;  
They all combined to that; Gods stepped the Mouth  
Of blabbing Thunder, left it spoiled the sport,  
Nature could see that sight, and not be sick,  
Nor in disorder roll; as she does now.  Thy. 
I must confess, thy impious self, or I  
Would make Hell strain to out do us in sin;  
But of the three thou art the overmatch,  
For Hell has bounds, thy wickedness has none.  Atr. 
My just rewards of wickedness have none.  Thy. 
Oh! Gods! If I deserve this punishment,  
Revenge the Heavens plundered of their light:  
Compose of lightning a false dreadful day,  
And take no aim, but dart it at us both;  
Hit one of us, and 'tis no matter which,  
You strike the wickedest man that lives on Earth.  
You will be merciful in burning me,  
Make me become my dear Son's Funeral pile.  
All Gods have left us but the Powers of Hell,  
Those only are fit to bear us Company;  
And with a Sword I fear to end my grief,  
Left I in my own bosom stab my Son.  Atr. 
I never had thee in my power till now;  
I had thy Fortune, Children, and thy Life;  
But now these tears confess I have thy Soul,  
And now I'm well rewarded for my pains.  Thy. 
If now I should not grieve, I were no man;  
But a more horrid Monster than thyself.  
What was my poor Son's fault?  Atr. 
That he was thine.  Thy. 
And being mine, wouldst thou give me, give me  
His blood to drink?  Atr. 
Who injured me but thee?  Thy. 
Bear witness Gods! he owns the innocence  
Of this poor Youth, whose blood he made me drink?  Atr. 
What Gods? the Guardians of Nuptial Beds?  Thy. 
Must sin with sin be punished?  Atr. 
No, that sin  
Becomes a Virtue, that chastises sin.  Thy. 
Oh! my poor Son!  Atr. 
All these are tears of rage,  
'Cause I' a aforehand with thee in this sin.  
Thou with my Children wouldst have treated me,  
But that thou wert afraid they were thy own  
Incestuous Bastards all.  Thy. 
I' ve done with thee,  
And leave thee to the Gods for punishment.  Atr. 
But I've not done with thee; for though thy eyes  
Please me with weeping, so they shall not scape.  
The sight of the remainders of thy Son,  
And of her death thou lov'st above thy Son,  
Shall tear 'em out, and then the work's complete.  
Open the Temple Gates, and call the Queen.  
You mingled Lusts, now you shall mingle pains,  
And through your Eyes, the passage of your Lusts.  
Here show the Father the Sons torn remains.  [The Temple is open, Philisthenes lies bloody. Thy. 
Oh! my Philisthenes! my mangled Son!  
Had ever Hell such cruelty as this?  Atr. 
Nor man such Treason and such lust as thine,  
Nor injured Monarch such revenge as I.  
Thy former Villainy, and present Tears,  
I'll cast in Brass, and in Effigy  
I'll drag thee round all ages of the world.  Enter Antigone in a raving posture, women offer to hold her. Ant. 
Stand off, I am not mad, but I shall be,  
If this be true; it never can be true,  
Oh! Sir, I've heard—  Atr. 
What have you heard?  Ant. 
Oh! Gods!  
Oh! horror!—  Atr. 
What's the matter with you?— speak!  
What have you heard?  Ant. 
You have Killed Philisthenes.  Atr. 
There was no secret love between you? ha?  Enter Aerope, between her two Children Agamemon and Menelaus. Aero. 
What is the matter both with Heaven and Earth?  
For every Face below is white as Death,  
And Heaven's Face above is black as Hell.  
Sir, you was pleased to send for me they say?  Atr. 
I did.  Aero. 
But I had come if you had not.  
I was with my two little pretty Sons,  
My Agamemnon, and my Menelaus.  
When of the sudden, with a thousand groans,  
The Air brought forth a monstrous Shade, as black  
As Hell had vomited a Lake of Pitch.  Atr. 
Thy sins were then in labour, and brought forth  
This bloody Vengeance.  Aero. 
Oh! most dreadful sight!  Atr. 
The worst I ever saw, except thyself.  Aero. 
My Child is murdered!  Atr. 
By thy own lust.  Aero. 
No, by thy Perjury, inhuman Prince.  Atr. 
How durst thou name, or think of Perjury.  Aero. 
That Villain cleared the innocence the wronged.  Atr. 
I never will believe either him or thee.  Aero. 
This bloody spectacle says that too loud.  
I see a Dagger in my poor Child's hand.  
I thank thee Daughter for this Legacy.  
Now hear me Gods, for hear me well you may;  
Born high on Innocence, I reach your Throne,  
If e'er in thought I yielded to that sin,  
For which I suffer so much misery;  
Kindle a Hell o' purpose for my Soul:  
But if I undeserved have born all this,  
Then build a Heaven fit for my reward,  
And I will lay the first Foundation Stone.  
Thus, thus, thus;  [She stabs Thy. 
Nay Villain I will lay you firm.  [Stabs Thy. several times. 
This for the loss of my dear Husband's Love:  
This for the loss of my dear Daughter's Life:  
This for the ruin of my honest Name:  
This for my Life I am about to lose.  
Now I have done myself this little right,  
I can with comfort die!— oh! Sir, farewell;  [To Atr. 
You lose a faithful Wife, what e'er you think,  
Made by great wrongs unfit for your embrace  
But most deserving your kind memory.  Atr. 
Oh! Sir! come here and see your workmanship.  Pen. 
Oh! my deluded miserable age!  
Have I toiled fourscore years for Innocence,  
And am I made a murderer at last?  Atr. 
Hence Hypocrite! thou never hadst concealed  
My lewd and Traitorous Brother in thy House,  
So nurtured all his horrid sins, when born,  
But that thou wert a bawd to 'em before.  Pen. 
An excellent thing it is to serve your house.  
For Charity to him I'm called a bawd;  
For serving you I'm made a Murderer.  Atr. 
For serving my revenge I give thee Life;  
But for concealing him, thy feeble Life  
I cumber with the load of all this blood.  Pen. 
The scarlet Livery of your Family;  
I wear your badge; Furies will know me now,  
They are the Stewards of your Family,  
They'll pay me all the wages I deserve.  Atr. 
Go, for thy wages then— to Hell— begone—  
Begone I say, and see my Face no more.  Pen. 
Would I had never seen the face of you,  
Or any of your impious Family.  [Ex. Pen. Atr. 
Thrust the old Traitor out, away with him.  
I do no more by him, than Gods by me;  
For I am driven by them from plague to plague.  
Man is a vagabond both poor and proud,  
He treads on beasts who give him clothes and Food.  
But the Gods catch him wheresoever he lurks,  
Whip him, and set him to all painful works.  
And yet he brags he shall be crowned when dead,  
Were ever Princes in a Bridewell bred?  
Nothing is sinfully begot but he;  
Can baseborn Bastards lawful Sovereigns be?  
Confess it, was there? have you been so false?  Ant. 
Oh! Sir, you fill my heart with dreadful fears:  
The news is true—  Atr. 
What's true?—  Ant. 
That you have killed—  Atr. 
That you have loved my Enemy?— is that true?—  Ant. 
He is not, never was your Enemy.  Atr. 
But did you love him?  Ant. 
Yes above my Soul.  
We both loved long, above expression loved,  
Unknown to any but our faithful selves.  Atr. 
Hast thou abused me so? why then let that  
Which has thy Lover take thy Soul.  Ant. 
What's that?  Atr. 
What should have damned Thyestes Son, but Hell?  
If thou wilt take Hells leavings there thou mayst.  Atr. points to Phi. Ant. runs to him and falls at his feet in a Swoon. Ant. 
Oh! my Philisthenes! my murdered Love?  Atr. 
And, oh! my murdered hopes! I thought this Maid  
Had Virtues would support our falling House;  
I thought other side I was thunder proof,  
And she's as false as any of our Race,  
A Traitress to her Father and her King.  Thy. 
Now 'tis my turn, fell Tyrant▪ to insult,  
Thou hast devoured thy own beloved Child  
As well as I, the Gods have given my heart  
This Cordial of Revenge before I die.  Atr. 
She's none of mine.  Thy. 
May they be cursed that wake thee from this Dream,  
Till thou hast shed thy Daughters innocent blood.  Ant. 
Oh! horror! horror! my Philisthenes  
All mangled, torn, and gory!— horror— oh!  Atr. 
How durst thou, Traitress, love my Enemy.  Ant. 
He had more worth than all our Race besides,  
None of our Race did ere deserve to live,  
But this sweet Youth, and me for loving him.  Atr. 
How dar'st thou talk thus? Fond Idolatrous Fool!  Ant. 
After this murder, what have I to fear?  
Nothing but Life, and keeping of my Wits.  
Oh! with these words you have more cut my heart,  
Than had you pierced it with a thousand Swords;  
For now I find 'twas I shed all this blood.  
Oh! Gods! oh Father! oh Philisthenes,  
What have I spied? The Knife that killed my Love?  
Oh! you good Gods!  [Aside. 
I thought a Priest should once have joined our hands;  
But now this Knife shall mingle our heart's blood.  Atr. 
What art thou doing there? thy looks are wild,  
I like 'em not— to thy Apartment— go,  
I can repair thy loss, but the whole world  
Can never repair mine, should I lose thee.  Ant. 
I have so wounded my obedience,  
By loving that dear Youth without your leave,  
That 'tis too weak to hold my mighty grief,  
Which forces me to die without your leave.  
Besides, Sir, all the Gods have called me hence,  
And sent their pleasure by this Instrument.  [Stabs herself. 
I come Philisthenes—  Atr. 
Oh! hold her hand—  
Too late, too late,  
The Fatal blow is given;  
Where had she that accursed Instrument?  
She's passed recovery! oh! my dear Child.  Thy. 
Oh! you just Gods!—  Atr. 
Incestuous Traitor peace,  
Thy Villainy did help to murder her,  
Thy guilt is greater, and I'm more enraged.  Thy. 
I scorn thy rage, for what have I to fear?  Atr. 
Look here, and think what thou hast not to fear.  [Pointing to Ant. Thy. 
Ay, but look there, and what have I to fear?  [Pointing to Phi. Atr. 
An age of lingering torments.  Thy. 
That I bear  
In this one minutes sight of that poor Youth.  Atr. 
Then I will add.  Thy. 
New will refresh with change.  
That Tyrant than does best, who uses worst,  
A mutinous Impostor, so accursed:  
I'll breed with care these Boys for mischiefs born,  
That men may feel new Rods when th' old is worn.  [E 〈…〉    

Epilogue.  
WE showed you in the Priests to day, a true  
And perfect Picture of old Rome and new;  
One Face serves both; Pagan and Popish Priests  
Are but two names for the same bloody Beasts.  
Wonder not Poets ne'er with Priests agree,  
For Priests invade the Poet's Property.  
Lying belongs to Poets; as appears  
By old Prescriptions of three thousand years;  
And Priests permit none but themselves to lie,  
Or those that do't by Church-Authority:  
Nay, they'll impose their lies on you for true,  
Which honest Poets ne'er presumed to do.  
They talk of being inspired, but do most care,  
To have you be such Fools to think they are.  
But when Priests meet in Counsels, Synods, Classes,  
They feign would have you think Heaven Mounts the Asses.  
The Devil rides 'em very oft 'tis true▪  
When he has any cursed work to do;  
But they have this damned fault in ways of sin,  
They run so fast the Devil can't hold 'em in.  
Then halter Priests, and tie 'em to the racks,  
If you will keep the Devil off their backs:  
But pray let Poets live, for they no ways  
Offend you with damned Plots, but in their Plays,  
And ask but half a Crown for holding forth,  
And that's as much as any lie is worth.  
FINIS.