ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES: PRESENTED TO HER HIGHNESS THE LADY ELIZABETH; With an EPILOGUE, Showing the Parallel in two Poems, THE RETURN, and THE RESTAURATION.  
By C. W.  
At the Hague, for Sam. Brown, MDCXLIX.   

TO THE MOST HIGH AND MOST VIRTUOUS PRINCESS THE LADY ELIZABETH.  
Madam,  
THese rude and uncomposed Airs aspire into your presence, that from your Touch they may receive Time and Laws. If you shall graciously vouchsafe to read them, they will Live and Breath. It pleased our Renowned Lady, Queen Elizabeth, to prefer the learned Author to the choice honour of her Favourite, and to confer with him in his Natural language. Neither doth that Most Illustrious Name, rest on your Highness without a design of Providence, since it speaks in you her Piety, and Early Bonds, and whatsoever She wore of greater Value than her Crown. May it please you herein to countenance the Parallel. Only accept the Endeavours of the unworthy Translator, and give them Admission to your Virtuous Hand, not valuing the Present, but receiving the Homage: For the Authority of your Judgement is so pregnant, of so Royal and Early Growth, and so hereditary, that Verses licenced by your Approbation, like sealed Measures, are justified against Inferior censures by their mark.  
Plays are the Mirrors wherein men's actions are reflected to their own view. Which, perhaps, is the true cause, that some, privy to the Ugliness of their own guilt, have issued out Warrants, for the breaking all those Looking-glasses; lest their deformities recoil, and become an eyesore unto themselves. This dim Crystal (sullied with Antiquity, and a long voyage) will return upon your Highness some Lines and Shadows of that Piety to your deceased Father, which seats you above the Age, and beyond your Years: Which makes you better than your Country, and higher than your Enemies: Which lodges you in our Eye as our Example, and in our Heart as our Treasure.  
Be secure (most illustrious Princess) you are not so much guarded from flattery, by the Acts and Vigilancy of the States, as by the transcendency of your own Merits. The History of your Name shall be an Academy, whence obsequious Rhetoric shall draw forth Encomiums to bleach the defects of unaccomplisht Queens.  
MADAM, Your Virtue's command: Let Your Clemency favour the duty of my ambition, Which is, to be  
The most humble Honourer of Your Highness, C. W.   


TO THE MOST EXCELLENT PRINCESS THE LADY ELIZABETH, On my Friend's Dedication of ELECTRA.  
GREAT MADAM,  
All the Muses humbly bow,  
And kneel (not to the Ordinance) but You:  
And mine stoops low, as Persians to the sky,  
Low as their arrogance is bold and high  
Who have enacted, that the Hat and Knee  
The Hinge of Honour be forgot to thee.  
Now though You are deposed in those poor parts,  
You're still the same Great Princess in our hearts.  
Souls make your Train and Court, which is no less  
Now, than when all Your Palace was a press.  
State, Pomp, obsequious throngs, and such gay things  
Are Compliments, and make but tapstery Kings.  
Spare Sceptres, Crowns, nay blood, still there remains  
The Princess, not so by the Father's Veins  
Alone, but Virtues, which are such they'll Woo  
You Realms and Subjects where so ere you go.  
You own a Word, a Look, a Touch will smooth,  
Unfiled Indians to Obedient Love.  
See Foreign Princes Crowd, and press to lay  
Their Kingdoms by thy side, and next age may,  
See the score of thy Royal Parents wrongs,  
Revenged by Kings which now sleep in thy Loins.  
You and the Duke are all our Hold and Fort,  
Henry presents the Camp, and You the Court.  
The Royal Widow with her beauteous Sky  
Of Lady's, are Seen in Your Cheek and Eye:  
And in Great Glo'sters little self Alone,  
The Father breaths, and Brother is at Home.  
Then leave us not, Dear pair, lest that we throw  
Ourselves down where dead plumbets use to go.  
It is your innocence does Countermand  
Destruction, and bids Fire and Brimstone, Stand;  
And when the rolling Mountains would come On,  
You like those little Seeds bid 'em, Be gone.  
On the Account too that it is your ray,  
Madam, alone, keeps green up in the Bay;  
The Poet here presents Electra's eye  
A Crystal for to dress your Cypress by,  
To set your Veil, and sighs, and what you wear  
Instead of Pearl, each Oriental tear.  
And while you sit in those shades of your dress,  
And Gloom of your attire, a Tragic verse:  
Moving with pensive gate, and reverend feet,  
May to your eye a smooth admittance Meet:  
If that it pass the Guard, and die not there,  
For Foreign Spy, or Charles'es' Messenger.  H. P.  

To my learned Friend on his apt choice and seasonable translation of ELECTRA in SOPHOCLES.  

THe Calendar that's stamped for forty nine  
Surts not the Year more, than thy Book the time:  
Which comes forth in such day, that it before  
Had been clean Verse, and English, but no more.  
Now 'tis Design, and Plot, and may be said  
Nor to bring only foreign Wit, but Aid:  
It speaks our Land, as well as Tongue, and cares  
Not only for our Words, but our Affairs.  
You make him to invade the State, and seek,  
Not to translate, but to transport the Greek;  
As if you had Commission to lie  
Agent in foreign tongues, and Poesy:  
And when the King wants troops of valiant Verse,  
To beat your drums up through the Languages.   

And it is Counsel now to fight the times,  
Not in pitched Prose, but Verse, and flying rhymes.  
'Tis safe too: For the Poet (as Men say)  
Can forfeit nothing but some woods of Bay.  
An old Lute, broken harp, torn wreath, or all  
Such Goods and Chattels mere Poetical.  
Here I might praise the Wisdom of thy Wit,  
Who gainest the Croop of danger too in it:  
For 'tis but Sophocles repeated, and  
Echo cannot be guilty or arraigned.  
Thus by slight of translation you make  
Him libell'em, who is ten ages back  
Out of their reach: and lay your ambush so,  
They see not who 'tis hurts 'em. He or You.   

Yet each page of your book affrights 'em more,  
Then the loud Citie-prentices at door.  
They tremble at their own red actions past,  
(For 'tis their Chronicle, but writ in haste.)  
And then to see the Punishment they shake,  
Reading their Shambles, and themselves in stakes.  
When Egist groans, they start, as if the steel  
Reached at their souls, and when He falls, They reel.   

Thus it sows spears and Agues in some breasts,  
But fills us with the joy of Wine and Feasts,  
And Hopes to see it dubbed by Victory,  
And bid, Rise up a perfect Prophecy.    

To his learned Friend on his ingenious choice and translation of Sophocle's Electra, Representing Allegorically these Times.  
WHat? is aged Sophocles still infant? how  
Comes it to pass he learns to speak but now?  
His lines before were but half truth; his style  
Against this age thy wit doth whet and file.  
Me thinks this were a perfect Prophecy,  
But that there wants still the Catastrophe:  
Here guilt with guilt is paralleled; the rhyme  
Of vengeance too may be complete in time.  
Our Agamemnon's dead, Electra grieves,  
The only hope is that Orestes lives.  
Others can only books translate; but thou  
Translat'st the Poem, and the Poet too,  
And makest him Prophet; as with double face,  
He see's behind him by thy lookingglass.  
Poets themselves were ne'er transformed; but here  
In one twy-forkt Parnassus doth appear.  
These times were typified by those; and he  
I'll boldly add, was but a type of thee.  W. G.  

To my most intimate C. F. C. W. On his ELECTRA, Translated out of the Greek, and laid at the feet of her Highness the Lady ELIZABETH.  
BOld Friend,  

Thou hast spoke words, and thou must look  
To be indicted for thy perilous Book;  
Twelve honest men of Mycens shall debate  
About the Symptoms of thy foolish Fate.  
How wilt thou look when thou shalt be attaqued.  
For having broke Lord Egists new made Act?  
O for a Limber then with grace to hint  
Thy wan complexion and thy face in print!   

Is it a cheap offence to have displayed  
The Mystery of the Thanksgiving-trade,  
That you Humiliations too must mock,  
It's dear Copartner, that drives on one stock?   

Thou sweet Electra hast with sighs relieved;  
Thou hast with her in all her sorrows grieved.   

And when 'twas Ordered that she be arrayed  
In the cast gown of some stolen Chambermaid;  
Thou from remotest Isles Attire hast brought  
Of purest gold, with curious fancy wrought,  
Unfolded from the Wardrobe of thy Wit.  
Rich as the Vests aboard her Father's fleet,  
When Asian Robes, and costly Phrygian Vayls,  
Over the Victor spread their silken sails  
Nor were they Webs of an inseriour Grain  
By rude and Needy Vulgar knit for Gain:  
There fifty Princesses in stately grace,  
With equal Princes matched, great Priam's race,  
On Ivory Couches in soft Cushions placed,  
(The lofty Gallery's with gold enchased)  
Their Needles ply: each Madams nimble clue  
The younger Dames and honoured Maids pursue,   

When Egist too had her confinement charged  
By thee thus richly clad she is enlarged,  
And by a Princess placed, whose each aspect  
Will an enriched Ray of grief reflect:  
See how they kindle tears, how by consent  
They now themselves, each other now lament.  
Mark their thick Tears, and fair dejected Head,  
As heavy lily's honey-riv'lets shed.  
Then they look up, and if but thin drops shoot,  
At th' others Eye their watery Host recruit.  
The streams fall in and mix. Pale sorrow rides  
In silent depths, and unimpeached tides.  
Now Tears they vie, and in the place contend,  
Each is a duelist, and not a Friend:  
Till on the precious pavement this rich vein  
Is lost in that, and so they close again:  
Now in full force they march, join hand in hand,  
And Grief no Champion is, but a full Band.   

But I must add one word, before we end,  
To expiate my having been thy friend.  
Had I thee known a Greek, or that way given,  
From this foul fault long since I had been driven.  
I'd fled at distance, and a fare off feared  
Thy pasteboard stomacher and goodly Beard.  
But these are all invisible in thee,  
Invisible as is the Greek to me.  
But since thou tell'st me it, Hold, take these Alms,  
This Verse that will scarce go, these withered Palms.   E. F.   

The Persons of the Interlude.  

The Tutor and Foster.  
Orestes, the Prince.  
Electra, the Princess Royal.  
The Quirre of Maids of Honour dwelling near the Palace.  
Chrysotheame, the Sister of Electra.  
Clytaemnestra, the unnatural Spouse of Agamemnon, who conspired against him.  
Egist, the Paramour of Clytaemnestra, and  
conspirator against the King.    

The Signification of the References.  
THe Alphabetical letter relates to the managing of the Scene, it shows the Postures and Motions, with the Carriage of the Action.  
The Smaller Figures refers to the Interpretation of some difficult places, and vindicating them from Obscurity or Mistake.  
The Larger Figures in the Head of some files of Verses, is that which contains the most Novelty. We must know, that the Ancient Choir of the Greek Tragedians in the time of Sophocles, consisted of Fifteen, seated by five upon three Forms, or by three upon five Forms. And in that Number were their Approaches and Returns, one speaking for the rest, being the fore party of the Quire. Music still attended their Speeches and Dancing. Now these Stanzas pricked out by Numbers, are most exactly answered by an ensuing Stanza, either immediately ensuing, or so enterwoven, that the third answers the first, and the fourth the second. Every such Stanza having ' its Counterpart, and every Member though of different Meeter, being exactly commensurate with the Member following in the same Number of the Counterpart. It is suspicious that of these Songs, the former referred to a Leading up of the Dance in set Paces, and the Latter to a Returning in equal Steps. Only this kind of Dancing seems to have fallen even in the Roman Tragedy's, though I hardly know any thing to have been more magnificent in the very flower and height of their Empire, than their Sumptuous theatres and Amphitheatres. This long disuse hath transmitted us a very obscure notion of those rarities in Music wherein the Ancient Greeks seem to have excelled. So that it may be excusable, if I am not clear enough in delivering that, of which the injury of Time hath scarce left a shadow.   

A short extract of the History about the destruction of TROY.  
BEcause this confident Essay hath adventured to go out, under the silken Banner of Her Highness, and being a piece which proceeded from an Author, in the Original, whose character it is still to have done right to virtuous Lady's; It may possibly be engaged (though Naturally Modest) in the Attendance of some of that sex. Now it were indiscretion to think their fair hands can afford to be soiled with the dusty records of Time, or impertinent History, further than the Arras can instruct, or then may be understood by one who is well-versed in the Wardrobe. Therefore I shall take it for a needful part of my duty here, to describe briefly the Heads of this Story, so familiarly intimated in the Poem.  
The voyage to Troy happened in the MCXCIIII year, before the Incarnation of our Saviour, about the time that Jair judged Israel. Upon this Quarrel. Paris the son of Priam (King of Troy) sailed over to Peloponnesus, where Menelaus reigned; having for his Queen Helen the great beauty of her age. Paris lodged in the Court of Menelaus, in whose absence he carries away Helen (against the Laws of her Wedlock, and his Hospitality) over to Troy with him. Menelaus' returning, demands her, and is repulsed. Whereupon he invites his Brother Agamemnon, than King of Argos, to assist him in the recovery of her by arm's. So both the Kings with the other neighbour Princes, levying the whole strength of Greece, fell down towards Aulis an Island in Boeotia; where they entered into confederacy, not to return till either Troy were razed, or they perished in the enterprise. But when they should have put out, the Navy lay becalmed, till according to the answer of the Oracle which they consulted, Agamemnon had sacrificed his daughter Iphigenia. About xxvii years after this Jephthe sacrificed his daughter: so that some think this of Iphigenia a fiction, and that uncertain tradition huddled up both times together, and that the Lady's right name was Iphtigenia. This war lasted ten years, till the prime and ablest Commanders being cut off on both sides, the Victory fell to the Greeks, whose cause was the juster; Troy being taken by the treachery of Aeneas and Antenor, & sacked, and burnt. Yet it fared little better with the Conquerors in their return, than it had with the conquered, most of them being weatherbeaten, and cast away. As for Agamemnon, he was slain in his own house by wicked Egist, through the complotment of Clytaemnestra: which unnatural treason, Orestes with the assistance of Electra revenged: Heaven, as it were, rewarding this affection of Orestes, by length of days, and happiness of Government; for he lived ninety years, & reigned seventy, matched with Hermione.  
The Tyrannical usurpation of the Mycenian Kingdom, with the Affliction and Oppression of the Royal Children, and the Destruction of the Conspirators, the Enthroning of Orestes, with the Deliverance of the Royal Family, make up this work.  
It was written by Sophocles, who was born in the CCCCXCV year before the Incarnation of our Saviour, and lived XC years.  
So that this Action was performed little less than MMM years ago; and represented in this Tragedy somewhat more than MM.  
This Abridgement of that famous History, is extracted (for the generality) out of Petavius, a most exact Chronologer, though with some change and addition.  
The rest will be supplied by the Notes.   

The Historical and Moral Plot of the Tragedy.  

Exiled Orestes is returned, though late,  
His Royal Father's blood to expiate:  
That Blood from which War and the bold sword shrunk  
Yet was by Treason, and the cold Axe drunk.  
Safe is he entered, but yet unrevea'ld,  
By Night and darker policy concealed.  
Electra here a Generous Defier,  
In vain to comfort wooed by the kind Choir,  
Chides Chrysotheame a white-livered Complyer:  
Who was with Offering by her Mother sent  
To bribe the dead, and Scape the punishment.  
She intercepts the gifts, the Oils she spills,  
And with a smoking Curse her Censer fills.  
The Cannon's turn, and this revolting prayer,  
Went forth a Treasure, but returns a snare.  
But Clytaemnestra pleads the fact was Just,  
The Bill was Murder, where the Judge was Lust.  
Yet though th' outfaced Noon she down may beat,  
The Dark brings Vision, and the Silence threat,  
Lashed by pale dreams, the Hobbs of night, she runs  
To flattering Humiliations.  
Thinking those angry Beadles to disarm,  
With strumpet Incense and Religious charm.  
But hypocritical Devotions dress,  
A Pageant safety, and a Mock of peace:  
For scarce her prayers are cooled and downward bending  
When their return is at the door attending.  
A Post in neat Romance Orestes slays,  
Secures the field, and so the field betrays.  
Now sad Electra at the dismal news  
Dissolves, and scatters into pious Dews.  
The Choir Companions of her grief she slights,  
Nor in her Sister's joyful words delights.  
Who sees large offerings at the Sepulchre,  
And thence her Brother's hand doth right infer.  
Built on much reason: but we less set by  
Weak-grounded truth, than a bold hear-say lie  
Hence raging grief into hard valour knits,  
(For both are elevate beyond our wits)  
Her Sister she invites to mutual Aid,  
With hands combined the Traitor to invade,  
And is repulsed, yet she resolves alone  
To execute her resolution.  
Those who Compound led captive by tame Ease,  
Seldom on dangerous Honour dare to Seize.  
Poor loyalty, how low now art thou laid  
By Enemies destroyed, by friends betrayed!  
What valiant wisdom will appear at once,  
To break thy foes, and heal thy Factions?  
Orestes is at door; his Urn he shows,  
Meets with Electra and confirms her woes.  
The dear Imposture she must see and hold,  
And to her Brother all her cares unfold.  
In doleful accents her sweet passions sound,  
Which in a precious deluge straight are drowned.  
The happy witness of those pious throws.  
Cannot forbear his person to disclose.  
Their Joys swell high, but at a quick surprise,  
First Clytaemnestra, and then Egist dies.   

Thus Loyal sorrow in high triumph ends,  
While rebel Joy Eternal Black attends.    

ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES.  The Tutor. The Tutor and Orestes are brought in upon the way to Argos, newly coming in by break of day; and the old man tells him all the places as he comes by, & where he is: For it is presumed, that he being about ten years old at his departure had not before the wisdom to take notice of them. The entrance is pert and lively, being quickened by frequent pointing at sights, and alteration of posture: it is also stately, opening into various Scenes, and being beautified with a prospect upon objects, full both of delight and magnificence. Besides that delicate passion which is insinuated into us, to see an Exile entering his Country, which he was forced to leave very young; and to hear those places repeated as he passes along, whose bare names cannot but raise in him a Natural endearment. 
SOn of great Agamemnon, he who late  
Led the Greek host against the Trojan State;  
Now may thine eyes their wished objects read:  
This is old Argos you still longed to tread.  
Yond grove is 
1 Io the daughter of Inachus, ravished by Jupiter, was upon the surprisal of jealous Juno, for secrecy, transformed into a cow: Juno suspecting this, creates the Ox-flie, and sets it upon her; with whose sting she was so vehemently infested, that she run mad: but was afterward by Jupiter preferred to a goddess, & worshipped with consecrated groves by the Athenians.  hornmad Inachi's abode:  
And this, Orestes, 
2 Apollo the guardian of flocks: which care in destroying Wolves, was always much magnified in countries of great pasturage.  the wolf-slaying god  
Wolf-Court hath named: But on the left her fanes  
The proud 
3 Juno's Temple, about two miles distant from Mycens.  Heraeum's spiring tops advance:  
Mycens the wealthy here her Treasures shows,  
They make a stand at the door of the royal hall, and debate. And this the 
4 The calamitous seat of the Argive Kings: which were Pelops matchdwith Hippodamia, daughter to Oenomaus King of the Eleans. After whom succeeded Atreus, matched with Aeropes He had a brother Thyestes: this brother incestuously consotted with Aerope, which made Atreus, to assert his nuptial honour, enter on this highflown revenge: he invites him to a feast, wherein he cators his own incestuous brood for his entertainment. Thyestes after the supper understanding of this, consulted the Oracle, how he might recompense the cruelty, and according to the answer, devirginates his own daughter Pelopera, by which incest was begot Egist. After Atreus, Agamemnon reigned, that matched with Clytaemnestra: he after the ten years' siege of Troy returning in conquest, was slain by Egist, who in his absence had won great authority in the kingdom. This he compassed by scaling the bed of Clytaemnestra, who was left Regent of Mycens in the time of the voyage.  infamous Pelopeian house,  
Whence I thee, as thy Father fresh was slain,  
From thy dear sisters sweet embraces ta'en  
Rescued and saved, and to this bigness bred  
Avenger of thy Royal Father's head.  
Now then, Orestes, and thou dearest friend  
Pylade, dispatch we that that we intent.  
For birds with chirping Matins call from bed  
The woken Suns already rising head,  
And sable night of all her stars is rid:  
Wherefore e'er any out of doors shall stir,  
Confer your thoughts. No time now to demur,  
But forward action ripened is to height.  Orestes. 
Dearest of my attendants, now I see't  
How kind thou art to us it plain appears,  
For as some metteled steed, though struck in years,  
In hottest service nought of heart let's go,  
But stands with ear erect; you even so  
Both spur us on, and march yourself i'ch front:  
I●'e tell you my resolve, attend you on't:  
And if aught unadvised escape, amend.  
When I the Pythian curtain did attend  
Consulting how my Father's murder, I  
On th' executioners might satisfy,  
Phoebus this answer gave, mark the reply:  
Without or buckler or an armies guard  
By stealth procure the murders just reward,  
Since then the holy voice directs us thus,  
As first occasion serves, get in this house,  
And mark what e'er is done, & when you know,  
Make us acquainted how all actions go:  
For they'll ne'er spy nor once suspect your show,  
With age disguised, long absence, and this hue:  
And make your tale this wise; A Foreigner  
Of Phoce, sent by noble Phanot there,  
(For he and they in nearest league combine)  
You come to tell (thereto a deep oath join)  
How that Orestes came t'untimely end  
As in the Pythian matches they contend,  
Struck from the hurrying eoach: This story pass.  
Mean while my Father's tomb in the first place  
(As was appointed then) with locks new shorn,  
And hallowed liquours we forth with adorn:  
Then we return, and carrying in our hands  
The pot which midst the thicket you know stands  
To hid the tale, the sweet news you have said  
we'll bring them word of, how that I am dead;  
My body in the funeral pile calcined,  
To the few ashes in this urn confined:  
For what great harm if but reported slain,  
In truth I live, and great renown obtain.  
I'm of the mind no words that gain are nought:  
Thus have I oft seen 
5 The Poet seems to have had an eye upon Lycurgus and Pythagoras, yet avoids that mistake of anticipation of history, while he only names an action which might have been common to former ages, & conceals those actors which were long after the time of Orestes.  Sages carried out  
I th' empty coffin of a false report,  
Yet safe come home and double honoured for it;  
So trust I from this fame alive to rise,  
Like a bright star upon my enemies.  
O Country soil and Greece's guardian powers,  
Send me a blessed journey to these Towers;  
And you my Father's Hall, for you I come  
To expiate you, led by heavenly doom:  
Nor send me with disgrace out of these ports,  
But Lord of wealth, but Founder of great Courts.  
Well, I have done: but you, grave Sir, beware  
To what our Counsel charged upon your care:  
And we away, 'Tis time, for always this  
Grand Overseer of all actions is.  El. 
Ay me, unhappy me!  Tut. 
Methinks within door, child, I seemed to hear  
One of the maidens keep a groaning there.  Or. 
'Tis poor Electra, is it not, prithee feign  
I'd stay a while, and hear the plaint again.  Tut, 
By no means, nought before Phoebus' advice  
Assay to do: Thence take our Action rise.  
Go, pour your offerings on your Father's tomb,  
For Triumph hence, and might for Service come: Orestes & Pylades (a mute companion of Orestes) go away from before the gate, to the tomb of Agamemnon, and the Tutor goes away, but parts from them.  El. 
Electra newly up, and wailing walks out to the gate. Sacred light, earth-bounding air,  
Nurse's privy to my care,  
You my Dirges witness best,  
You how I ply my bruised breast,  
When the gloomy Shade, is ceased;  
But my Night groans ring aloof,  
In the sad Courts wicked roof,  
While I my poor Father mean,  
Whom in Barbarous Region  
Bloody Mars had let alone,  

6 Here may not unproperly be urged the old caution, that similitudes run not upon all four: Yet may this be a fit portraiture of an accumulative or aggregative Lady, the queen politic, which hath trulled it in the lewd embraces of the soldiery, and to consummare the scandal, shall have conspired with it, & together heinously upon agreement, destroys her just and undoubted Lord.  But my Mother and her Mate  
Egist, as strong Swains lie at  
A sturdy Oak to fallen down flat,  
His head with bloody Pol-ax cleave:  
Nor any but I at this grieve  
That thou, Father, thus shouldst come  
To a sad unworthy doom.  
But moan I will and cry,  
While I the glittering stars espy,  
While I the day discover  
My plaint I'll ne'er give over,  
But as a robbed Nightingale  
Will my sorrows tune, and all  
Shall hear my moan before this gate;  
O Pluto's and Proserpina's state!  
O Mercury and curse that sure is!  
O stern god-begotten Fury's!  
You Crowner's of the murdered, hear  
You Watchers of th' Adulterer!  
Come ye, help ye, venge ye all  
Our Father's fall:  
And my brother home me call.  
Myself no longer can weigh down  
My overbearing moan.  Quir. 
1 Child, The Lady's dwelling hard by, come to her that they may comfort her. child Electra, of a mother  
2 Unlucky'st of all other  
3 Why always thus dripping away  
4 In tears that can find no allay,  
5 For Agamemnon long since slain  
6 By the ungodly wily Quain,  
7 And betrayed by wicked train.  
8 O that he who did this contrive  
9 (If I may say't) may he ne'er thrive!  El. 
1 Issues of noble parentage,  
2 You come my sorrow to assuage,  
3 I see and know it, nor deceive  
4 You me, yet never by your leave  
5 Will I surcease with sobbing cries  
6 To mourn my Father's obsequies:  
7 Wherefore sweet Damsels ever kind,  
8 Let me this favour from you find,  
9 Let me alone,  
10 Always, alack, alack to groan.  Quir. 
1 Why from deaths Catholic Mere you'll never  
2 Though most you moan, deliver  
3 Your Father back: or cry, or pray,  
4 You only cast yourself away:  
5 While you improve and give more weight  
6 To sorrows load, which else were light;  
7 Nor can release come by it  
8 From the sad pressure of your woe:  
9 Why long you then yourself t' undo.  El. 
1 Foolish they who in silence sheathe  
2 Their parents brought to wretched death.  
3 But me 
7 Progne, feigned by the Poets to have been translated into a Swallow, or Robbin-red-brest; She to revenge upon her husband Tereus, the incestuous rape of her sister Philomela, murders his son Itys, and stews and sets him on the board to her husband, which in suppertime, to complete the cruelty, she discovers; and winged with sudden flight, is converted into a Bird, whose breast is all stained with gore. She is said continually to lament this prodigious effect of her high-wrought passion.  the doleful one contents  
4 Which Itys still, Itys laments:  
5 Afflicted bird, Jove's Messenger,  
6 Sent for the Summer's Harbinger.  
7 But, O distressed 
7 Niobe after the loss of her numerous and flourishing progeny, which caused her discontented husband to make away himself, being reduced from prosperous and proud, to a childless widow, through excessive sorrow, is said to have congealed into an entire rock, only her tears reserved See both these Fables at large in Sandys Ovid. Metam. book. 6.  Niobe!  
8 I thee adore my Deity,  
9 Which weepest still,  
10 From rocky tomb a teary rill.  Quir, 
You are not, Madam, th' only she  
Who in this grief plead property,  
Why you so loud 'bove them within  
I'th' same degree of blood akin  
As Chrysotheame and Iphianasse both,  
And he who grieves in hidden growth?  El. 
Happy whom nor yet long hence  
Famed Mycens land shall bear, brave Prince;  
Orestes sent by Jove's decree;  
Whom I unwearyed wait to see;  
Childless, piteous, husbandless,  
Pining away with wretchedness,  
Wasting in tears, nor can be found  
What may give my sorrows bound,  
While he forgets both what's him done,  
And what him taught, false rumours run:  
Fain would he e'er.  
Yet though he'd fain does not appear.  Qu. 
Madam cheer up, come cheer,  
In heaven great Jove resides  
Who all things sees and guides.  
To whom excessive passions leaving  
Nor senseless be, nor overgrieving,  
Time is a gentle god, nor yet  
Does Agamemnon's youth forget  
To come unto his native land  
Though now in Crisa's fertile strand.  
Nor who the world controls below,  
Will murder see unpunished go.  El. 
But I mean while sans hope perceive  
My tender Age poor me to leave,  
Nor can I longer stay  
Which without Parents fade away:  
Nor have a Friend my part to take,  
But Pilgrim-like whom all forsake;  
At home in these poor  must spread,  
My Father's empty Bord and Bed.  Qui. 
1 Wretched coming, to remember!  
2 Wretched blow given in the chamber!  
3 Where with the broad steel-faced Cleaver  
4 The Royal Temples they dissever.  
5 Treason was Privy-counselor,  
6 Lust was the Executioner.  
7 Dreadful they a dreadful sight  
8 Wrought, were it god or mortal wight,  
9 That acted it.  El. 
1 O Day, Curse of my Calendar!  
2 O night! O Suppers horrid Cheer!  
3 Cracking my loaded Heart.  
4 When unworthy Fate did part  
5 By base Conspirators my Father  
6 Who took, who stroyed my life together.  
7 With whom the great God ruling heaven  
8 In vengeance over weight be even.  
9 Nor may they e'er enjoy their state,  
10 Purchased at Treason's rate.  Qui. 
1 Hush, pray not too loud, for know you  
2 What harm storming thus may do you?  
3 Endangering your present fortune,  
4 Your own destruction you importune;  
5 And much of needless ill will gain  
6 While still you stubbornly complain,  
7 To raise strife: forbear; 'Tis Art,  
8 Oppose not the prevailing part,  
9 But yoke your heart.  El. 
1 I am provoked: I see it, and  
2 My impatience understand;  
3 But at this fact to grieve  
4 I'll not cease, till cease to live.  
5 For who would speak well of me, should I?  
6 Who that or Honour knows or duty?  
7 Comforters leave, leave me alone  
8 For this grief must not measure own.  
9 ne'er will I from my labours cease,  
10 But still my tears increase.  Qui. 
'Tis mere good will all that I press,  
Like to some tender Mother;  
Breed not griefs one of another.  El. 
Tell me what bounds my woes confine,  
Is't fit the Dead in scorn t' enshrine?  
What man doth nature bring up so?  
May I ne'er in their favour grow.  
Nor if I match, some worthy Lord  
To live demure will I afford;  
But my sad devotions pay  
At my Father's grave will lay.  
For if the dead and rotten  
Like earth and nought forgotten  
Must lie along,  
And they the wrong  
Not rue, who did the same,  
Farewell Virtue, Farewell shame,  
And all the gods reputed name.  Qui. 
One of the Ladies coming after the rest. Brought, Madam, Both that I may counsel you not to exasperate your enemies by the opposition of perpetual complaints, and that I may approve myself a faithful friend in coming in to your comfort both for yours and my own sake  
Hither I'm with all this ear betake:  
And if I prove other then right to say  
We strait submit our wills, yours be the day.  El. 

Lady's, I am ashamed in your esteem  
That I though ne'er so sad, too pensive seem.  
But to this life I am perforce inclined:  
Pardon, how can a Maid of generous mind,  
Seeing her Father's wrongs do otherwise  
Then I, who moan a-bed, moan when I rise?  
Nor wanes my grief, but still increases more.   

For first 'tis my own mother who me bore  
Hates me, than they who made away my Father  
With me in mine own Palace, live together.  
They are my Governors, and they me feed,  
From whom then be supplied, I'd rather need.  
Besides, what life I lead pray do you count,  
When I see haughty Egist perching mount  
My Father's Throne, the self same robes behold  
Him wear, my slaughtered Father wore of old.  
And in those very rooms where he his Hands  
Imbrued, atone the household Guardians.  
And that which gives my utmost woe full stature,  
My Father's sheets are made to hold the Traitor  
With my lewd mother, if't be fit at all  
That I his bedfellow should Mother call;  
And she thus base lodged by the murderer,  
Of haunting ghosts never stands one whit in fear,  
But as she at the fact made merry, when  
She finds the day is come about again,  
In which by guile she made our Sire away,  
Then she doth mask it, than month offerings slay  
To saviour-gods, on her thanksgiving day:  
Mean while, poor I, 'bout house looking thereon  
Cry, fret, and make a lamentable moan,  
My Father's dismal feast to think upon,  
All by myself alone; nor can I still  
Continual weeper, ever weep my fill.  
Then the well-spoken gentlewoman for'c,  
With such like kerbing girds takes me up short;   

Hate of the gods, to you, forsooth, alone  
Your Father's dead, none else makes any moan;  
An ill end seize on thee, and this doom pursue,  
Hell after death thy lease of grief renew.  
Thus taunts she. But when any message brings  
How that Orestes comes: then out she flings  
Like a rude Bedlam, and with rampant voice,  
Cries, This your do is, all this you cause  
Which out of my arms reach Orestes get:  
But know that thou shalt dearly pay the shot.  
Thus snaps she, and her fine companion  
Standing close by her elbow, eggs her on:  
That sneaks in grain, that piece made up of scorn,  
That Champion to Lady-duells born.  
But I Orestes still expecting, who  
Should set me free, mean while decay with wo.  
For while he stands contriving, he destroys  
At once my present hopes, and future joys:  
Nor can I whilst things stand this wise with me,  
Lady's or patient or religious be:  
For deep afflicting evil burden forces  
The best that are to fall on evil courses.   Quir. 
Tells one thing, Madam, is Egist abroad,  
Or here, while you your passion thus unload?  El. 
Abroad you may be sure: were he in town,  
I durst not peep: he's now to th' country gone.  Quir. 
Nay, if it be so I dare somewhat more free  
Own your access, and talk more ventrously.  El. 
He is from home, your mind you need not smother.  Qu. 
Then I'll adventure: What news from your Brother?  
Comes he, or stay's he? pray for certain tell's.  El. 
He promises to come, but nothing else.  Qu. 
Men on great erterprises move but slow.  El. 
I'm sure in saving him I did not so.  Qu. 
Fear not, he's one will ne'er desert his friend  El. 
No: if I should my life were at an end.  Qu. 
Not a word more; I espy Chrysotheame,  
Your sister of one sire and mother's stem,  
Come out of doors; with gifts in hands whose rites  
Are proper to appease deceased sprights.  Chr. 
What a complaining, sister, at the gate  
Do you make, after your accustomed rate?  
Will you ne'er be advised to refrain  
From idle passion, but still give it rein?  
Why now thus much I by mine own self know  
I vex at heart things should be carried so:  
And were but my good will with strength protected  
They soon should know which way I stand affected:  
But in a storm I safely strike my sails,  
Nor seem to act, when action nought avails.  
I'd have you too, Dear Sister, tread this way:  
'Tis true, that Justice is not what I say,  
But what you do; yet if my Liberty  
I'll have, I must with those in power comply.  El. 
Sad case that you his child whom you pretend  
Slighting your Sire, should to your Mother bend.  
For all those wholesome counsels you prefer  
Are none of them your own, but taught by her;  
Wherefore choose one o'th' two; or mad be styled,  
Or in your wits but an unnatural child.  
For you that fitly say, were't in place where  
Your detestation of them you'd declare.  
Yet when I seek to right my Father's shade  
Helpest nothing, nay dost me that would dissuade:  
Does not this Cowardice to sorrow add?  
Wherefore or teach me, or else from me learn,  
Can I leave off my moan what should I earn?  
I live now, poor you'll say; Well, yet content:  
And while I vex their hearts, at least this rent  
(If ought the Dead can please) the dead present.  
But you that hate them, hate them sore in word,  
Yet to converse with them you can afford  
That murde'rd your dear Sire: I'd ne'er abide it  
Though hired with all the knacks in which you pride it;  
To crouch to their commands. Enjoy you still  
A table richly furnished, wealth your fill:  
Give me but food which nature doth require,  
And to your Gallantry I'll ne'er aspire.  
Nor would you were you but yourself, for when  
You might be called, Daughter toth' best of men,  
Your Mothers be, so  be to you laid  
You your dead Father and your Friends betrayed.  Qui. 
Nothing in anger for all loves: 'Tis right  
Each of you says, and each may profit by't.  
Would you endure but to be ruled by her,  
And she but learn to be your follower.  Chry. 
I am Dear Lady's in a manner used  
To these term's from her, and had now refused  
To speak, but that a business I discover,  
Will make her all her wailing soon give over.  El. 
Tells that great business, come; and if it outvie  
My grief, I'll forthwith with your will comply.  Chry. 
Well I'll acquaint you then with what I can:  
They mean ' less you your puling leave, anon  
To turn you thither where no courteous Sun  
Bestow's a Visit on the Dungeon.  
Where in griefs lonesome Pest-house shut up close  
Fare from this Land you may tune out your woes.  
Wherefore conform, for now 'tis time to do it,  
And blame me not too late, if you shall rue it.  El. 
But are you sure 'gainst me this is their doom?  Ch. 
Most sure I am when Egist back shall come.  El. 
Now therefore would for me he'd come away!  El. 
O wretch, what wicked thing is it you did pray?  El, 
That he would come, if it be thus decreed.  Ch. 
To do you mischief? Are you mad indeed?  El. 
To rid me from among you all far hence.  Ch. 
What, of your present life have you no sense?  El. 
O mine a heavenly life, most wondrous sweet!  Ch. 
At least, it might be, if you 'ld be discreet  El. 
Teach me not my deceased friend to forget.  Ch. 
I teach you not, but to power to submit.  El. 
You flatter, with my Nature it ne'er stood.  Ch. 
Yet to fall through rashness it is not good.  El. 
we'll fall, if need, t' avenge our Father's blood.  Ch. 
Our Father, he I know with this dispenses.  El. 
Such words are slothful Cowards base pretences.  Ch. 
You'll not be ruled then, nor with me agree?  El. 
No truly, ne'er may I so senseless be.  Ch. 
I'm hasting thither where my errand lies.  El. 
Whither away? whose is this sacrifice?  Ch. 
My Fathers, whom my Mother sends this gift,  El. 
What him the odiousest that ever lived?  Ch. 
Him that she killed, your meaning's that I know.  El, 
What friend advised her? who would counsel so?  Ch. 
IT was some night-apparition as I cast.  El. 
Now Fathers holy Angels help at last!  Ch. 
Have ye any ground of hopes raised from this fright?  El. 
I'll tell you if you'll tell's what was the sight.  Ch. 
I know it not: only one little glance.  El. 
That little tell's, A word ofttimes may chance  
To cast the high down, and the low advance.  Ch. 
There is a speech, that with a second greet,  
Your and my Father was seen her to meet  
Risen to light: his Royal Staff than rear's,  
And plants, which late himself now Egist bear's,  
From whose Crown shot forth such a verdant Bough,  
All Mycens roosted in its shady Brow.  
Thus much I heard one telling, who was there  
When she did to the Sun her dream declare:  
Farther than this I know not, but that she  
Upon that fright this Message sendeth me.  
Wherefore I by thy Father's gods thee pray,  
Be ruled by me, nor cast thyself away.  
But thou 'rt still lost, if thou shalt disobey.  El. 
Hold Sister: none of those things in your hands  
Must touch the Tomb, Justice itself withstands,  
And Piety; you should our Father carry  
Cleansings and offerings from his Adversary.  
Wherefore i'th' winds or some deep-mined cave  
Hid 'em where they may ne'er admission have,  
Into the presence-chamber of his grave.  
But let 'em there be saved a goodly prize,  
For her own precious self against she dies.  
For were she not, the most ungodly she  
e'er breathed, these hostile offerings could not be  
From her the Murderess to him that fell:  
Now judge yourself, how can the entered take well  
These honours at those hands by which he died  
In vile disgrace, like a plain foe defied:  
Which 
10 It was a superstitions humour of the Ancients, after they had committed any murder, to cut the sinews about the armpits of the corpse, fond (as far as I can reach) supposing that they did thereby enfeable the arms of the injured spirit, and disable it from pursuing them with its crooked tasons, or returning any due satisfaction: yet the ordinary sewer of interpretations runs into this sense, that they were wont to cut off the tipps of the body, as the ears, and nose, and the like, and string them, and so wear them for an amulet cast about their neck, & brought about to their armholes.  arm-stringed him, and to scour off the gore,  
In cleansing 
11 Another wise ceremony after murder, to scour the blood of the deceased, upon this design, that thereby they might wipe off all anger.  rinsed the lopped head o'er and o'er.  
Are not these rather expiations spent,  
To compound for the murder's punishment?  
It must not be; wherefore go set 'em down,  
And 
12 The custom of offering locks of hair at the tomb of deceased friends, is ancient and frequent: Foc a plain probable reason of it, (if any reason can be given of the encroachmentts of superstition, or any eye so vigilant to observe them) I should suppose that as the Heathens were wont to exalt their passions into Deities; so those actions which are the effects of these perturbations might in process of time pass into forms of worship Tearing the hair is a'genuine issue of a squalid and dischevelded sorrow upon the loss of some inward friend. This might have set the copy to those funeral rasures and baldnesses for the dead, prohibited Leu. nineteen. 27, 28. xxi. 5. Deut. xii. 1.  crop a lock or two from your own crown,  
And from unhappy mine. Alas! poor shifts,  
Yet my small stock affords no better gifts.  
Present him with this Hair uncombed 
13 The Greek is unnnointed, for in our countries the Puff is more known than the Box of ointment, neither do I think any want of proportion betwixt Anoint thy head, and Powder thy hair.  unpouderd,  
Present him with this Girdle unimbroydered;  
And falling on your knees, beg that he would  
Be our Assistant, to revenge his blood,  
And that his child Orestes come home safe,  
Or's enemies the upper hand may have;  
That so with richer hands for time to come  
Then now we're able, we may crown his Tomb.  
I know, I know he thinks on our conditions,  
That thus he sends her these ill boding visions.  
Wherefore, sweet sister, underhand bestow  
Upon yourself and me this favour too,  
And him who both of us our being gave,  
Dearest of souls, though now laid in the grave.  Qu. 
IT is all religion that she says, and you,  
Lady, if wise, will as she bids you do.  Ch. 
I will: For naked truth needs no dispute  
To quarrel for it, but readiness to do it.  
But while I this exploit assay, be sure  
You keep my counsel, friends, I you conjure:  
For if it chance to reach my mother's ear,  
I shall attempt a work will cost me dear.  Qu. 
1 Unless I be much deceived,  
2 And of reason quite bereft,  
3 Before is come the Harbinger,  
4 Justice self at hand is near,  
5 And will show her dreadful powers  
6  time spin out many hours;  
7 Some hope there seems  
8 When I hear these pleasant dreams.  
9 Nor will Greece's natural Father  
10 Ever be forgetful, 
14 The Greek Scholiast confesfeth this place to contain a hard expression, that the very instrument should not be unmindful of that act. But he resolusit into this meaning, that the very Axe owes Traitors a grudge.  neither  
11 Th' ancient Pole-axe Rasor-edged  
12 With steel 
15 
Answerable to this is the Latin name bipennis, however Quintilian devices some other fetch. Simmias the Rhodian hath described the figure of that Axe, wherewith Epêus built the Trojan horse. The generation of an Hatchet, is by the concourse of two circles, contingent in the centre of a third oequall circle: as in this figure is plain to the eye.   diagram of circle and hatchet 
Take a plate of iron infinite, and describe in it a circle at adventures, which let A B C be from any point at any distance: Let the Diameter be drawn, whose extremes let A B be, the Centre D. At the point A, and distance A D, pair off F D E: Again, at the point B, and distance B D, pair off G D H, superfluous cantles of iron, the residue presents you the figure of the double headed Battle-ax. The Helve must be drawn through the de of the centre D, and proportioned to the circle A B C.   wing on both sides fledged,  
13 Which with opprobrious stroke,  
14 Off its Sovereign took.  
1 And Ir'n hoofd Erinnys couching  
2 In dread Ambush is approaching,  
3 With many a foot, and many a hand,  
4 For without or Law or Band  
5 In the twice polluted sheets,  
6 Lawless she loves combat meets:  
7 Wherefore I guess  
8 This dream will, will find success;  
9 Both on the Actors and Consenters;  
10 Else all dreams come at adventures,  
11 And no meahing carry, though  
12 Full of terror they may show;  
13 And Oracles are tales,  
14 If this vision fails.  

16 Pelops won his Lady at the match with her father Oenomaus by the deceit of Myrtill his charioteer: For the Father understanding from the Oracle, that his son in Law should slay him, proposed, not to let any one wed her, unless he overcome his fleet chariot-horses. Pelops arriving at Pisa, brib's Myrtill to leave out the Axle-pin: So in the way the chariot overthrew, Oenomaus fell, and committing the revenge of his treacherous man to his son, expired. Pelops having won Hippodamia, in lieu of reward, casts the perfidious Myrtill into the Myrtean (as the Greeks feign, deriving from him that name.  O Pelops! in ill weather  
Thy Coach came hither;  
Thou drov'st with an ill hand  
To this same land:  
For since Myrtill was laid asleep,  
Thrown in the deep,  
With cruel base reproach  
o'erthrown with's Coach  
Embossed with beaten gold,  
Woe within woe enroled,  
Hath dogged close  
This sad House.  Clyt. 
You now it seems are gadding forth again,  
Now Egist is from home, who kept you in,  
Lest you abroad your friends should load with lies.  
But now he's out o'th' way, you me despise.  
And many folks you many tales have told,  
How I, harsh and outrageous cruel, hold  
You and yours under, doing you great wrong:  
No wrong; I give bad words to a bad tongue.  
Now for your Father (that's all you pretend  
Always) how he by me came to his end.  
By me? I know it well, and will it own,  
But Justice took him off, not I alone;  
To whom, if wise, your helping hand ye had lent:  
For this your Father whom you still lament,  
Only of all the Grecians must proffer  
Your sister to the angry gods to offer,  
Having in the begetting her not known  
My pangs in a hard labour undergone.  
Come on now, satisfy me for whose sake  
Offered he her. The Greeks, you I answer make.  
Now, what had they to do my child to kill?  
Or to comply with Menelaus will?  
Should he slay mine, and look I should sit still?  

17 Hermione and Nicostratus children of Menclaus by Helena.  And had not th' other two, more fitting far  
Both of them, to be sacrificed then her?  
Of father born and mother, for whose sake  
They did the expedition undertake:  
Or did Death long, and had an eager mind,  
On mine to banquet, and leave hers behind?  
Or did not your base father rather this,  
Hate her by me, and Menelaus loved his?  
Does not this Sire the fool and vile bewray?  
I think he doth, however you say, Nay.  
And the dead, could she speak she would consent:  
I therefore at what's done do not repent:  
And if I seem to you to think amiss,  
Do well to load your friends with calumny's.  El. 
You'll not say now that I first went about,  
To move your heat, and drew this passion out:  
But if you'll give me leave, I'll tell you true  
Of my dead Father, and my sister too.  Cly. 
I give you leave. This modest dialect  
Still used, our ready audience might expect.  El. 
I tell you then. Your  profess you spilt  
My Father's blood. A word of blackest guilt,  
Were it by right or not, yet I'll assert  
It was not Right, but Love did you pervert  
To that lewd Paramour, with whom you're nought.  
Now ask the Huntress Diana, for whose fault  
She in calm Aulis stayed the wind-bound Fleet.  
Or I'll reply: for her we cannot meet.  
My Father once (as I have heard it talked)  
Sporting i'th' holy Grove, roused as he walked  
A spotted, well-brancht Stag, which having killed,  
And boasting of't by chance, some words he spilt,  
At which Latona's daughter took offence,  
And stopped the Greeks, nor let them stir from thence,  
Till he his Child gave her Beasts recompense.  
Thus she was given, nor could the Army come,  
On other terms back, or to Ilium:  
So that unwilling, when he could no other,  
He offered her, and not to please his brother.  
But grant it were (as you aver) to further  
His brother, must he therefore merit murder  
At your hands to be executed? By what order?  
Take heed lest while you make a newfound Law  
You on your  woe and repentance draw:  
For if blood must with blood assoiled be,  
You must die first to seal your own decree.  
But see if you coin not a vain excuse,  
For if you please, resolve me why you choose  
Your life in fowl debauchments to abuse,  
Which with that Murderer lie, with whom together  
Plotting before, you made away my Father,  
And gendrest with him, but us out dost throw,  
The honest issue of a pious vow.  
Can I commend you here? is't your pretence,  
This too is for your child to make amends?  
Fowl answer if it be. No law allows  
You should t' avenge a child, a foe espouse:  
Nor may we our advice present, but still  
Incensed you cry, our Mother we revile.  
But I in your deportment to us find,  
More of the Mistress harsh, than Mother kind:  
Which lead sad days, and old acquaintance date  
With woes by you occasioned, and your Mate.  
But poor Orestes now in foreign lands,  
That life with which he hardly 'scaped your hands,  
Clo'yd with distress, consumes; whom you complain  
I for your executioner maintain.  
Which, were I able, be assured I would:  
And therefore give it out, if you think good,  
That I'm ill natured, or unbridled scold,  
Or to the depth of impudence am bold:  
For if these virtuous qualities I show,  
I do not much degenerate from you.  Qui. 
I see her moved but whether justly so  
'Tis not within my Judgements Verge to know.  Clyt. 
What Course now can I take with her that thus  
Is not ashamed her Mother to abuse?  

18 Electra was probably 28. or 30. years old as may be gather d from the offices of rescuing and saving her Brother mentioned in her lamentation over the Urn that follows.  And that at these years too? seems she not bend,  
For all bold mischiefs a fit instrument?  El. 
Assure yourself I feel an inward shame,  
How e'er you think: I am advised, and blame  
My Carriage fit nor for the time, nor me.  
But your cursed usage and your deeds they be  
Malgre myself me to this pass have wrought  
For by lewd company, lewd tricks are taught.  Clyt. 
O ye Bold Beast, do I or words of mine  
Or my deeds you to talk at large incline?  El. 
'Tis you talk so not I: you do the deed,  
And Deeds by words are but interpreted.  Clyt. 
Now by our Lady Diana, you shall mourn  
For your bold Tongue when Egist does return.  El. 
See you're enraged for all I had your leave  
To speak my Mind, nor will attention give.  Clyt. 
I shall not offer then for you in Peace,  
Since I consented to your tongues release.  El. 
You may, you shall; Offer, nor blame my Noise,  
For hear I'll put a period to my Voice.  Clyt. 
You that attend take the fruit offerings thence,  
That I to th' King may make my Orizens,  
To ease my soul, my soul of its oppressing fear  
Phoebus' great Precedent of Mycens hear.  
Me softly pray, for enemy's stand by,  
Nor may I speak all out while she is nigh.  
Lest she with clamours loud and Mind perverse  
An idle tale through all the town disperse,  
Thus hear thou: thus my prayers concealed prevent:  
The apparitions last night did present  
In both my dreams, Lycean King, for these  
If they be lucky, crown them with success  
On me; if Hostile, on my Enemy's:  
Nor if some illaffected shall contrive  
My ruin from this height, do thou connive:  
But in safe Channel glide my peaceful days  
Holding the royal Halls and royal Mace.  
And with the friends I have may I still rest,  
Bathing in ease, with my dear pledges blessed.  
(Bate those Malign my peace, and sweets infest)  
Lycean Phoebus to these prayers lend  
An open ear, and a propitious End;  
And all things else, though not expressed by me,  
Which unto you a god must naked be,  
For fit it is Jove's seed should all things see.  Tut. 
Who can inform one, Lady's, I entreat  
If this be Royal Egists Princely seat.  Qui. 
This gentle stranger 'tis: Right is your aim.  Tut. 
At this his Consort aim I too as nigh?  
Her presence personates a Majesty.  Qui. 
Resolve you this great Lady is the same.  Tut. 
Hail gracious Queen, sweet tidings I commend  
From one to you and Egist a near Friend.  Clyt. 
Succeed the news, but first acquaint me this,  
What Master sent you with these Embassy's.  Tut. 
Phanot the Phocese. High concernment ' 'tis.  Clyt. 
Friend speak it out, you come from a good King,  
And a good Message without doubt you bring.  Tut. 
Orestes death in one word take it all.  El. 
woe to me wretch, this day completes my fall.  Clyt. 
What is't? what is't my Friend? her cries ne'er heed.  Tut. 
Orestes, then and now I say, is dead.  El. 
Lost and forlorn I am: I am no more.  Clyt. 
Get you about your business, but kind friend  
Tell me the certain manner of his end.  Tut. 
I'll tell you all: my Journey was therefore.  
Arrived at Greece's high renowned Came,  
To enter in the Delphic lists he came:  
Where first the crier with shrill voice proclaimed  
The race on Foot: This was the foremost named,  
He enters brave: th' amazed Cirque look on,  
Nor by his person was his power outdone.  
But fleet he scours the lazy road, and meets  
The forward Goal. The Crown his conquest greets  
Of many facts, I can relate but few  
Who neither his exploits nor Prowess knew,  
Only take this: When ever race was waged,  
Or in the 
19 
There were 5. more eminent Greek exercises, which are reckoned up in the latter verse of this Distich in the Greek Epigrams by Simonides.  
Isthmians and Pythians Diophon Philo's son,  
At Race, Dart, Quoyt, Jumping and Wrestling won.   five-encounters Men engaged:  
One from the rest to bear away the Day  
Was still cried up: An Argive as they say,  
Orestes named; great Agamemnon's son,  
Who levied the Greek host of late renown,  
Thus fare 'twas so; but if God raise his arm,  
No strength is Heaven-proof to stand the harm.  
For he one day when of swift 
20 Chariotery is one of the antiquated Modes of Chivalry. Heretofore as it was used in Triumphs so in field-service and games. This use may well go conjoined: For ordinarily public sports, either by the policy of the Masters, or the propension of men's affections maintain a resemblance with the Deeds of Arms, of their respective Country's. In the field Chariots of Iron sometimes were used, so denominated from their hooked Falchions or Scythes speating out of the Axletree. Those Ammunition Coaches were small as to hold but two, and light timbered Ours are of a heavy bulk, and always employed either for necessary portation from place to place, or stately ostentation in solemn processions and Masks.  charriot-horse,  
By early Sun they made a speedy Course  
Ent'red the Stage with many chariotiers,  
An Achive one: from Spartaeone appears;  
Their harnessed Barbery's two Lybians drived,  
(And among them he was himself) a fifth,  
Lashed his Thessalick Mares: a sixth one jolts  
His rattling Coach with bay Etolian colts.  
The seventh a Magnesian: In th' eighth place,  
One with white horse, an Enian by race.  
The ninth frow Athens, heaven built was come:  
Last, a Boeotian coach filled the tenth room.  
Standing where by the lot the Masters find,  
What rank should to each chariot be assigned,  
At brazen Trump they start, each chiding backs  
His slothful Steeds, the waving rain each shakes:  
The plains are deafened by the rattling wheels,  
And clouds of dust rise from the horses heels:  
Pell Mell they drive: None spare for sting: while each,  
At the others spokes and panting nostrils reach,  
While they put on, the hindmost Courser laves  
That's Back, and that the Rutilio with foamy waves,  
But he his outmost axle always led,  
Close to the columns side, and giving head  
To the right fore-horse, held his fellow straight:  
Still all the steady chariots stood upright,  
When th' Enians hard-mouthed steeds in furious sort,  
Set on a running, and then turning short,  
After the sixth and seventh stage complete,  
Their foreheads on che 
21 That is, Lybian.  Barcian Coaches beat,  
And as mischances never go alone,  
One by another's broke and overthrown:  
All the Crisean heath did covered lie.  
With shattered limbs of shipwrecked Chivalry.  
This he of Athens  at's rain espies,  
And gently draws aside, so by there flies  
The harnesed Cataract, tumbling all in heaps.  
He drives i'th' rear; but still Orestes keeps  
His horses last, relying on the end.  
But when he sees him only left behind,  
With a shrill lash his nimble steeds revive,  
Pursuing swift, and pole by pole they drive,  
Poised is the game; and if one overlook,  
By the others forward head he 's overtook.  
Th' unhappy Prince, these Posts unoverthrown,  
Upright in upright chariot safe had gone,  
When he his left rain slacked, and turning Pole,  
Fell unawares upon the Column foul;  
The Nave asunder splits, and on the Wheels  
He pitches down, and drags his hampered heels  
I'th' following Tire, and as he fell along,  
The plunging horses through the champion flung:  
But when the ring beheld the sweet youth slide  
Down from the box, with a shrill shriek they cried,  
How brave a Prince how bad a fate doth share!  
Dragged on the ground, then tossing in the air  
His hurried legs, till the kind chariotiers  
With much ado stopping their mad carriers,  
Loosen the bloody corpse, so torn as none  
Their friends disfigured countenance could own.  
Then forth with certain Phocians ordered, burn  
His limbs; and in a little brazen urn,  
Conduct the einders of that mighty Name,  
That in his Country he may burial claim.  
You have it all. Piteous it is to tell:  
But had you been, as we, at th' Spectacle,  
In my sight ne'er so sad a thing befell.  Qu. 
woe, woe, our ancient Masters forward hope  
Wholly, it seems, is Root and Branch stocked up.  Clyt. 
O Jove! what's here! is it cursedness or Bliss?  
'Tis gain, I grant; yet grievous joy it is,  
If mine own sorrows must my life protect.  Tut. 
Why Lady, does this Message you deject?  Clyt. 
Childbirth is sharp, and though he prove ungrate,  
A Mother yet cannot her own pangs hate.  Tut. 
We on an idle errand come, I see.  Clyt. 
Not idle neither, how  idle be,  
That you of his decease sure signs have brought,  
Who when he was of mine own soul begot,  
Revolting from my dugs and nurture, run  
To foreign Realms; and since he first was gone,  
ne'er saw me, but his Father's murder charged  
On me, and cruel threaten hath enlarged;  
So that nor day, nor night, my sleeps were sweet,  
But the next hour I looked my death to meet;  
But now this day is my deliverer  
From all my fears of him, my fears of her.  
'Twas she, a worse and inmate grief I housed,  
Which gnawed my bones, and my heartblood caroused.  
But now, our quiet days, without annoy  
Survive, nor shall her threats impeach our joy.  El. 
Wo's me poor wretch! it is time thy fall to mourn,  
My dear Orestes, who art yet a scorn  
To thy reviling Mother; well is this?  Clyt. 
No, not with you; but well with him it is.  El. 
Give ear, O Justice, and revenge the dead.  Cly. 
She hath given ear aright, & well decreed.  El. 
Mock on, for your prosperity now flaunts.  Cly. 
You and Orestes ne'er will leave these taunts.  El. 
Yes, we have left, but cannot make you leave  Clyt. 
Good stranger, mayst thou all reward receive,  
That thou hast freed us from her brawling tone.  Tut. 
Well, I am going then, since that is done.  Clyt. 
By no means, Sir, that thought does neither suit  
With your great Lords respect, nor my repute:  
But enter in, and let her without door,  
Her own distresses, and her friends deplore Clytaemnestra carries the Tutor off the stage, to entertain him in her Court.  El. 
Do not you mark how passionate, how wild  
Distressed Lady she bewails her child?  
That he is dead, and that he thus should die?  
No: she unnatural laughs. Unhappy I!  
I, who dear Brother, perish in thy fall,  
While thou hast buried at thy Funeral,  
My remnant of low hopes to see the day,  
When thy just hand full vengeance should display,  
A Father's death, and Sister's wrongs to pay.  
Now where shall I my doleful footsteps turn,  
Who am all desolate, and twice forlorn?  
Brotherless Orphan. Once more to their check  
Whom I most hate, I must submit my neck,  
My Father's Headsmen serve. With me is it well?  
But it is resolved, I will no longer dwell  
In these cursed walls, Electra lays her down before the gate. but here before this gate  
Laying me down, will fade disconsolate,  
And let them, if they take this ill within  
Kill me, my slaughter were a courteous sin,  
To live is pain, the light I hate to spin.  Quir. 
1 Where be Jove's thunders fled,  
2 And Phoebus' burnished head,  
3 If this they eye,  
4 Like standers by?  El. 
5 Ah! woe!  Quir. 
6 Lady, why this lament?  El. 
7 Oh!  Quir. 
8 Be not too vehement.  El. 
9 You kill me.  Qu. 
10 How?  El. 
11 If you with hopes beguile me,  
12 Of those whom plain we know,  
13 Fled to death's region below:  
14 My dying light,  
15 You even quench outright.  Qu. 
1 Why th' 
22 The Choir endeavours to comfort her by the example of Amphiarus who was in like manner betrayed to death by his wife Eriphyle. For he being a footh-sayer fore-knew that if he went to the Theban war, he should there die, and hid himself: But Adrastus enticed his wife with the giving her a precious chain, to a discovery of him: And so going against Thebes, with the other Princes, was swallowed up the first day, with his coach and four horses, by an opening of the earth. Which lewdness of his mother, Alcmaeon being brought up to age, expiated, by executing her.  Argive Bard I knew,  
2 Whom the gold Bracelet slew,  
3 First hid in is cave.  
4 And now in is grave.  El 
5 Ah! woe!  Qu. 
6 He's Sovereign of the dead.  El. 
7 Oh!  Qu. 
8 Oh truly! for 'tis sad.  El. 
9 He perished.  Qu. 
10 Yes.  El. 
11 True, true: for a friend cherished  
12 His Orphan at is decease;  
13 But none vouchsafes my grief to ease:  
14 And he that would,  
15 Is blasted in the bud.  Qui. 
1 Sad Lady you sad things endure.  El. 
2 I know't, I know't too sure:  
3 Sorrow's crowding, overflowing,  
4 Never fading, ever growing.  Qui. 
5 We all bear witness to your Cry.  El. 
O then look you no more  
7 Entice me to give o'er.  Qui. 
8 What say you?  El. 

23 That exploit now comes into her mind, which she afterwards invites her sister too.  Yet I spy  
9 Helpers beside,  
10 Hopes of blood royal near allied.  Qu. 
1 All mortals death must undergo.  El. 
2 In cruel racing too?  
3 As, unhappy, he was mangled,  
4 In the winding traces tangled.  Qui. 
5 It was an unseen misery.  El. 
6 Yes, for in foreign land,  
7 Without my careful hand.  Qu. 
8 Alas now!  El. 
He must lie,  
9 Nor buried,  
10 Nor with my tears upon him shed.  Chry. 
Winged with delight, and by sweet pleasure chased,  
Quitting all decent gate, I hither hast:  
For joyful news I bring, and sure repose  
From the long burden of your pressing woes.  El. 
Whence can you find a balsam for my heart,  
Whose wounds are passed the slender cure of art?  Chry. 
Oreste's come: take it from me, & know,  
'Tis sure as that thou strangely eye me now.  El. 
Art mad poor wretch: or dost thou this design,  
To laugh at thine own miseries and mine?  Chry. 
No, household Vesta help me, as no jeer  
I mean at all: but he is certain here.  El. 
Ah me unhappy! on what mortals breath  
Builds thy assurance its unerring faith?  Chr. 
Mine & none others eyes my authors were,  
Sure signs I saw, and a true message bear.  El. 
Poor heart, what surety saw'st thou? from what aim  
Strivest thou to fan my breasts expiring flame?  Chr. 
Now for the gods sakes hark, and as you find  
Repute me henceforth sound or weak in mind.  El. 
Tell on then, if you pleasure take to tell.  Chr. 
I will, and nothing that I know conceal.  
When I approached my Father's ancient stone,  
Fresh rivulets of new milk run trickling down  
From th' hillock I descry: and a sweet round  
Of several flowers my Father's ashes crowned.  
Seeing I wonder, and I wondering stand  
To see the Author, if he were at hand:  
But when I viewed the coast on all sides clear,  
Nearer the tomb I stole: whose brinks appear  
Strewed all about with locks of new-shorn hair:  
Which when, poor wretch, I saw, my active thought  
A face well known unto my fancy brought:  
I strait presaged no hand but that alone  
Of dear Orestes could this office own.  
Taking them up, no blasting curse I band,  
But tears of joy in my warm eyelids stand;  
So that both then, and now, I firmly know,  
That these devotions none but him can show:  
For, bating us, to whom does this pertain?  
Now that my act 'tis not I witness can;  
Nor is it yours: for how could you escape,  
Which rue it if but out to Church you step?  
Nor does my mother's heart delight to act  
Such works, nor had she carried it untracked.  
Orestes 'tis; these Honours must design.  
Then, dear, courage: Always the face divine  
Views not the same with the same constant shine;  
It yet hath frowned on us, and who can tell,  
Whether this day much happiness may seal?  El. 
Poor fool! I pity thee even all the way.  Ch. 
What's this? rejoice you not at what I say?  El. 
Thou know'st not where thou standest, nor what's thy thought.  Ch. 
How know I not that which mine eyes me taught?  El. 
He's dead, poor wretch, thy hopes are at an end,  
Of aid from him, no more on him depend.  Ch. 
Unhappy me! of whom did you this hear?  El. 
Of one which when he fell, himself was near.  Ch. 
And where is he? amazement strikes my breast.  El. 
'Bout house; my mother's dear and welcome guest.  Ch. 
Unhappy me! who was he then that gave  
Those liberal off rings at my Father's grave?  El. 
I am persuaded some kind hand hath paid  
Those sad devotions to Orestes shade.  Ch. 
Distressed me! but I with joy surprised  
Hastened to bring this word, nor once surmizd  
In what sad case we are, but coming view,  
My ancient Bill of care inflamed with new.  El. 
Thus stands your case, but if you'll hear my mind,  
This pressing load of grief you shall unbind.  Ch. 
Can I the dead to life raise up again?  El. 
There's no such need: I was not sure so vain.  Ch. 
What other action can my strength effect?  El. 
Dare but to move as I shall you direct.  Ch. 
Why if it be good, I will not come behind.  El. 
See, without pains nothing success can find.  Ch. 
I see: and will contribute too my All.  El. 
Hark then which way my resolutions fall.  
Our store of friends, you know that none we have  
But all are svvallovved by the ravenous grave.  
And only we distressed pair survive.  
Now while I heard my brother was alive  
And flourished, still, one day, my hopes did rest,  
He for his Father's blood would make inquest.  
But since he's gone, to you I turn my eyes,  
That with your sister joining enterprise,  
You should not now to execute defer  
Egist our Father's executioner:  
For nought it boots longer my thoughts to stop,  
And till when will you slug? upon what hope  
Not slighted look you? You indeed may moan.  
Of your revenue robbed and portion:  
And you may grieve which to this ancient day  
Unbedded and unwedded wear away.  
Nay, never must you look these joys to meet:  
For think not Egist is so indisereet,  
To suffer once your stock or mine to flourish,  
Which were his open overthrow to nourish.  
But if you will my earnest counsel trust,  
First to our Fathers and our Brother's dust,  
Perform the Ceremonies of the Dead,  
Then as thou'rt nobly born, and nobly bred,  
Assert thy Name, & thou a Match shalt find  
Of worth, for all to virtue are inclined.  
But as for fame, you know not what respect,  
Obeying me, on us both you reffect.  
For who or Friend or Stranger shall us meet,  
But will us with this commendation greet?  
Mark Dear Companions those two Sisters: those  
Who from the Dust redeemed their Father's house.  
Who when Victorious Treason highest flew,  
Spared not for life, but the bold rebel slew:  
These we must love: these we must reverence all:  
And for their Spirit at Feasts and public Hall,  
Receive with Honour Epidemical.  
Thus shall all living us with praises Crown,  
So that nor Life, nor Death shall want renown.  
Wherefore Dear soul be ruled your Sire relieve,  
Assist your Brother, rescue me from grief.  
Rescue yourself: Assured of this, 'tis base  
Well to be born and live in foul disgrace.  Qui. 
In such affairs Advice were a good Friend,  
To them that Counsel, and them that attend.  Chry. 
Now  she spoke, Lady's, had Virtue reigned,  
She Modesty had kept which now is stained.  
For on what grounds in desperate boldness yet  
Dress you your Heart and fain would me abet?  
Nor count how you are Woman born not Man,  
Inferior is our Sex, and lesser can;  
Then their Prosperity in Springtides flow'th,  
Ours back is Ebbed and parcheth into Drought.  
Who then shall plot to strick off such a Head,  
And think to carry it unpunished?  
See then lest Bad enough to Worse advance;  
If any Ear on these our Counsels glance.  
For nought it helps us, nor our stare amends,  
To gain good Names, and come to shameful Ends.  
For Death is not the worst, but Death to will.  
Nor to be able this Will to fulfil.  
Now I beseech you e'er you root us out  
At once, and bring your Family to nought,  
Assuage your heat: and all which hath been said;  
Unspoken, Undone, shall safely up be laid.  
Only your Spirit check, and learn at length  
How weak you are, and then submit to strength.  Qui. 
Be ruled: No treasure Man enjoys so great  
As is a wise Forecast, and mind diserens.  El. 
All this before I looked for: I expected  
That all which was applied should be rejected:  
But with my Hand this work alone will I  
Archieve: nor will we let out counsels die.  Chry. 
Oh—  
Would when my Father died your Mind had been  
Thus firmly bend; you all had finished then.  El. 
Why then my will was good, but loss my wit.  Chry. 
Strive that your wit stand always at that height.  El. 
You then instruct me but will nothing Aid.  Chry. 
Why it will bring us ruin if assayed.  El. 
I praise your wondrous Wit, but hate your fear.  Chry. 
When you shall thank me for it I'll give ear.  El. 
Never expect to find me in that Note.  Chry. 
Of that Hereafter gives the surer Vote.  El. 
Away, for thou art one  nothing do.  Chry. 
I would, but thou art one will't nothing know.  El. 
Go tell your Mother the discourse we've had.  Chry. 
No, Sister, yet I love you not so bad.  El. 
Know you to great disgrace draw me aside.  Chry. 
To no disgrace, but wisdom I you guide.  El. 
I follow must what you for Justice read.  Chry. 
When you with Judgement join, than you shall lead.  El. 
Pity one speaks so well, and speaks so wide.  Chry. 
Right said you that, to your own speech applied.  El. 
What seem I not with Justice to combine?  Chry. 
Yes but sometime Justice with Harm may Joyn.  El. 
I'll never to these law's Allegiance pay.  Chry. 
But if you do, you'll thank me for't one Day.  El. 
Yes I will do, nor will at all you dread.  Chry. 
Is it true? nor will you second Counsel read?  El. 
No: for of Bads, the Worst Bad Counsel is.  Chry. 
All I have said you understand amiss.  El. 
Long fixed is this resolve; no sudden Motion.  Chry. 
Then I am gone, for on my words attend.  
You will not, nor cani your works commend.  El 
Go in: ne'er will I be at your devotion,  
Though most you wish it; for 'tis foolish pains,  
If we Content pursue, where none remains.  Chry, 
This she speaks as she is walking away. Why if you think you are so, still be wise;  
But when you feel it, you'll praise my Advice.  Qui. 
1 Why mark we the wise fowl, Above,  
2 In Country and in Natural love;  
3 Where the Dam looks to be fed,  
4 Of those she hath born and bred;  
5 Nor do like Tribute pay.  
6 But if Jove thunder hath,  
7 And heavenly Themis wrath;  
8 They Carry't not Away.  
9 Fame downward spring,  
10 And this doleful Message ring:  
11 In the Dead Atrida's hear  
12 Of these cruel 
24 This Metaphor is elegantly put to express a Bickering betwixt friends engaged in one common Cause that should tread in equalsteps, and hear the same Burden. It is taken from the best Author of English, our late sovereign of Eternal Memory, in his Cabinet broke open; pag xxxviii. Numer. to the Queen xxxvii.  interferings,  
1 Their House-affairs have long been weak,  
2 Their children now in quarrels break:  
3 Nor doth long converse as yet  
4 Their Divisions Umpire set.  
5 Electra still doth float:  
6 Poor she betrayed alone,  
7 Always her Sire doth moan,  
8 I'th' Nightingales sad note:  
9 Nor cares for Death;  
10 But provides to mortgage breath,  
11 While she those twin-imps destroyeth.  
12 In such life what Lady joyeth?  
1 None low of means, and high of place,  
2 Endure their honours to debase  
3 With scorn. Great Lady, thus  
4 You hard afflictions choose  
5 Companions of your Age.  
5 Opposing Treason's Rage.  
7 At once with double honour crowned,  
8 A child both wise and virtuous found.  
1 O mayst thou live in wealth and strength  
2 Above thine enemies at length,  
3 More than thou dost Below!  
4 I thee entirely know;  
5 Afflicted thou heldst forth  
6 High principles of worth:  
7 Thou always didst for Pilot own  
8 unmoveable Religion.  Or. 
Have we Dear Lady's, been directed right,  
And do we on our purposed journey hit?  Qu. 
What is your search? and whether your desire?  Or. 
For Egist, where he dwells I long inquire.  Qu. 
You're right, and 
25 The Attic laws enjoined to show a stranger the way: as Petitus in the last Chap. And Buzyges ordered it to be put into their Commination, that those who turned strangers out of their way, should be cursed publicly through the city, amongst them that were guilty of other heinous offences.  harmless your director save.  Or. 
Who then to those within this errand carries,  
That here a welcome message for them tarries?  Qu. 
Here 's one. if of her Brother news she have.  Or. 
Go, Maiden, them within acquaint; At gate  
Some men of Phocia for Egist wait.  Qu. 
Unhappy me! You come not to evince,  
The late report we had by certain signs  Or. 
Your talk I know not: But some weighty thing  
Touching Orestes, from old Strophius bring.  Qu. 
What is it friend? I feel a chilling fear.  Or. 
We in small Urn these Funeral relics bear  
In hand, behold it, of Orestes here.  El. 
Ay wretched me! Now plain before mine eye,  
I see the weight, and feel the misery.  Or. 
If for Orestes you a tear let slide,  
Know that this pitcher doth his Body hid.  El. 
Friend, give me leave, for th' god's sake I am bold,  
To take this in my hand, if this him hold:  
That o'er these ashes I may wail and moan  
Myself, and all my family undone.  Or. 
Come reach it her, who e'er she be, for sure  
I'll will would never this request precure:  
But or some Friend, or else in blood she's near.  El. 
O thou his monument, who was most dear  
The remnant of Orestes soul: how wide  
Thy settings-forth, and thy returns divide?  
For now my hands can poise thy empty load,  
But, child, I sent thee glorious abroad.  
Would I had breathed my last  I thee left  
To foreign lands, and saved thy life by theft!  
Then hadst thou with thy Sire that day destroyed,  
As Death with Death, so Grave by grave enjoyed.  
But now from home, and vagrant in strange coast,  
Without thy Sister, thou art sadly lost.  
Nor did with tender hands unhappy I,  
Thy loved corpse in Barhings purify:  
Nor did I take, as decent rites require.  
The doleful burden from the solemn fire:  
But by strange hands laid out, thou dost return  
The easy measure of a shallow Urn.  
Wretched me! Oh my feeding thee of old  
Now comes to nought! For oft I thee did hold,  
Nursing with peasant trouble. Thou wert styled  
Not more at all thy Mothers, than my child.  
I was thy Nurse, not they within reputed.  
And I thy sister always was saluted.  
But all these comforts in one day are dead,  
With thee expiring: thou with them art fled.  
Thou like a whirlwind rush'dst: Fallen is my Father:  
I from thee perishr: Thou destroyed together.  
The evemy laughs, and wild with joy doth rant  
Thy Stop-dame-Mother; which lewd miscreant  
Thou oft to me in private message sent,  
That thou wouldst bring to condign punishment.  
But all those just resolves, and vews repeated,  
Thine, and my angry Angel have defeated,  
Which thus to me hath in sad wise conveyed  
For thy sweat Face, this dust and useless shade.  
O me! O me!  
O Dolefull corpse! Ay! Ay!  
O how dismal! Oh me! O me!  
A journey tookst thou, Dearest, to my death,  
Thy Sister's death, O soul more dear than breath.  
Wherefore thou Me to Thee take in this room,  
Nothing to nothing: so for time to come  
I'll lodge with thee Below: for thou Above  
And I did always equal fortunes prove.  
And now I long thy Death and Urn to share:  
For I perceive not that the dead take care.  Qu. 
Electra, think a Mortal Sire you had,  
And Mortal Brother too, nor grieve too bad,  
For we are outlawed all till Death be paid.  Or. 
Oh! oh! what shall I say? what strange address  
Contrive? nor can I longer me suppress.  El. 
What is your grief? what may this language sound?  Or. 
Is yours Electra's visage so renowned?  El. 
This is the same, and in full grievous plight.  Or. 
Alas! how sad and pitiful a sight!  El. 
Why Stranger, do you thus for me lament?  Or. 
O Body wickedly and basely rend!  El. 
I, gentle Stranger, am the same you moan,  Or. 
O sad unwedded desolation!  El. 
Why, Stranger, look you thus on me, & sigh?  Or. 
Of all my sorrows I ne'er knew the tithe.  El. 
How know you that from aught hath now been spoken?  Or. 
In seeing you with many troubles broken.  El. 
Few of my troubles are to sight disclosed.  Or. 
And how can worse than these be once supposed?  El. 
Because I still with murderers converse.  Or. 
Murderers? of whom? strange grief thou dost rehearse.  El. 
My Father's Murderers; and am made their drudge.  Or. 
What mortal doth thee to this bondage judge?  El. 
One Mother called, but nothing Mother-like.  Or. 
And by what means? Doth she thee starve or strike?  El. 
Both starus and strikes, and all hard usage tries.  Or. 
And does no Helper, no Defender rise?  El. 
None, and my One that was is in your urn.  Or. 
Poor heart, I pity all along thy turn.  El. 
Know you are th' only He hath done thus much.  Or. 
For I am th'only He your troubles touch.  El. 
You are not any way to us allied?  Or. 
I'd you resolve, might I in these confide.  El. 
You may; with honest Lady's you confer,  Or. 
Let go the Pot then, and the business hear.  El. 
Use me not, Stranger, for the gods sake so.  Or. 
Obey my words and you aright shall go.  El. 
Not for all dears: rob me not of my treasure.  Or. 
I can you not excuse.  El. 
Hard is my measure  
If I thy dust, Orestes, must let go.  Or. 
Good words. Those groans no lawful warrant show.  El. 
No warrant, when I groan for my dead brother?  Or. 
Those words do not become you, but some other.  El. 
Am I so of the deads' inseriours?  Or. 
Inferior you of none: nor is this yours.  El. 
If this Orestes body be, I poise.  Or. 
It's no Orestes, but a coined device,  El. 
Where then, unhappy, is his tomb indeed?  Or. 
No where: For men alive no tomb do need.  El. 
What sayest thou man?  Or. 
No lie I do contrive.  El. 
And does he breath?  Or. 
As sure as I'm alive.  El, 
You are not he?  Or. 
See this my Father's Seal,  
And learn if I other than truth reveal,  El. 
O dearest fuce!  Or. 
Dearest I witness bear.  El. 
O voice art come?  Or. 
No other seek to hear.  El. 
I thee embrace.  Or. 
O mayst thou e'er from hence!  El. 
Dearest companions, fellow citizens;  
Behold Orestes by a fiction slain,  
And by that fiction safely brought again.  Qu. 
Lady, we see. And all our grief to heal.  
A tear of joy down from our eyes doth steal.  El. 
1 O Noblest, Noblest Progeny  
2 Of the most Reverend, to me  
3 At length brought back;  
4 You come, you find, you see those whom you you lack,  Or. 
1 W''re come: But o'er us let still silence hover.  El. 
2 What is the business?  Or. 
3 Silence were best, lest they within discover.  El. 
1 Now Diana aid,  
2 Eternal maid,  
3 Of that be ne'er afraid.  
4 While such a female swarm  
5 Still in the house, ring their alarm.  Or. 
1 Beware, for women too can war assay:  El. 
1 O joyful day!  
2 Thou haft restored our light,  
3 Wrapped up in constant night,  
4 In one continued West,  
5 So were our hearts distressed.  Or. 
1 I know this too; but then we will reflect  
2 On these affairs, when season shall direct,  El. 
1 All time, all time I do repute  
2 My present joyfulness to suit,  
3 So just, so fit;  
4 For never could I speak with freedom yet.  Or. 
1 There I consent. Wherefore now keep it safer.  El. 
2 By what endeavours?  Or. 
3 By not enlarging, while time does not favour.  El. 
1 Upon what fear  
2 Now you appear  
3 Can I to speak forbear,  
4 When unwarned, unadvised,  
5 I see thee hither come disguised?  Or. 
1 Thou seest me when the Gods decreed my way.  El. 
1 Blessed news you say,  
2 Greater than yet I knew,  
3 You tell a joy that's new;  
4 If God did guide, I say  
5 Auspictous is your way.  Or. 
1 Full loath I am to check your joy, but yet  
2 
26 The 14. following verses which are full of Female passions, depend upon an unkindness which Electra takes at this expression.  I fear to pleasure you too much submit.  El. 
Thou who didst please though held by long demur  
This pleasant voyage to prefer  
Me spouse of sorrows do not thou—  Or. 
What should I not?  El. 
Do not me disallow  
The pleasure of thy presence to declare  Or. 
With others I'd be angry should they dare.  El. 
You like me then!  Or. 
Why should I otherwise  El. 
O friends a voice  
Which I expected not I heard,  
My anger speechless was,  
And I to cry aloud afeard;  
But now I hug thee; on thy face  
A pleasant shine doth sit  
Which I though full of care should ne'er forget.  Or. 
From all impertinent discourses cease:  
Nor teach me that debancht my mother is;  
That Egist all our Father's coffers spends;  
Wast's some himself, and shares some with his Friends.  
The time would pass should we discoursing stand  
But what may further the design in hand  
Tell me, how in an hid or ouvert way,  
My coming may my laughing foes allay.  
And when we enter hold a watchful eye,  
Lest you with cheerful looks your Mother spy,  
But to the tale of grief a groan let fly:  
For, when our labours have obtained the goal,  
Then we may laugh and joy without control.  El. 
Well Brother, what may make to your content  
Shall be my care: for all my joys I rend  
Derived from you, nor can my  call;  
Wherefore I would not, to your grief though small.  
A great advantage reap: For I full ill  
Should hearken to my present Angels will.  
Nor can you otherwise but know the sum  
Of our affairs: How Egist is from home;  
But here within my Mother, whom ne'er doubt  
Lest she my merry countenance find out:  
For both in ancient feud I with her burn;  
And seeing the pleasure of your safe return,  
To drop my liquid joy in plenteous shower,  
Nor ever will desist, nor have the power:  
For I have them dead and alive beheld  
At even approach, and wonders reconciled:  
So that should I my Father meet alive,  
Faith unastonished to the sight I'd give:  
Wherefore your own way, since you are arrived.  
Led on; for I had this alone achieved,  
I had not missed what still was in my eye,  
Bravely to quit myself, or bravely die.  Or. 
Silence I you advised. Some from within  
I hear is coming forth.  El. 
Come, Stranger's, in;  
For what you bring, can neither forth be kept,  
Nor can the taker with delight accept.  Tut. 
O Men most vain, and of all wit bereft,  
What, of your lives have you no value left?  
Or have you not of common sense a taste,  
Who do not once conceive how you are placed,  
Not at the Brink. but in wide hazards deep!  
For had not I light in the house to keep  
A faithful ward, into the inmost room  
Before your persons, your designs had come.  
But now a sure provision I have made:  
Wherefore aside all long discourses laid,  
And dangerous joy by lavish shouts bewrayed,  
Enter the house: for peril tracks delay,  
And expedition here must win the Day.  Or. 
How at my entrance are things managed there?  Tut. 
Right well: for none will know you who you are.  Or. 
You than have of my death reporter been?  Tut, 
Know you are one of the other world within.  Or. 
And are they glad thereat? what words are given?  Tut. 
When all is done I'll answer: But until  
All's there, even that which is not well, is well.  El. 
Brother, I beg, resolve me what's this man?  Or. 
Know you him not?  El. 
Nor yet imagine can.  Or. 
Know you not whom you gave me in his hands?  El. 
Whom? what d' you mean?  Or. 
Who to the Phocian lands  
Conveyed me secretly, sent by your order.  El, 
Is this that man, the only He of all  
Whom I found faithful at my Father's fall?  Or. 
The same it is: examine me no further.  El. 
O dearest face! O only ransomer  
Of Agamemnon's house! how cam'st thou here?  
Art thou He which from Death hast him set free,  
And me from odious captivity?  
Dearest, those hands, and those beloved feet  
A sweet embassage bear! Nor did I heed  
Thy near converse, nor wouldst disclose; but flew'st  
Me with thy words, when truth most dear, thou knewst.  
Hail Father! for methinks I see my Father.  
Hail, and know, thee most of all men together,  
In one day's compass I did hate and favour.  Tut. 
Enough: for these discourses made at pleasure,  
The wheeling Nights, with equal Days may measure:  
Which you Electra thus shall entertain.  
But you that here attend, I tell you plain,  
Now action fits: Now the Queen's all alone.  
Now there's no man within: But if you drone  
Consider how with these, and wiser fare,  
Being more than these, you must engage in War.  Or. 
Pylade, this work no further long delay  
Requires, but in we with all speed we may.  
And let's our homage offer to the gods  
Which in this entrance take up their abodes. Pylade and Orêstes kneel down and pray. Electra knelt down too in the Court of the house with them.  El. 

27 Here let it not be thought an impertinency, to annex these Corollaryes. That first as the Heathens scattered their gods through all highways, and fastened a devotion upon almost every object; so their adorations were not retired from public view. And again, their shrines were ordinarily in the bounds of places, such as are Borders of countries', Havens, Corners of streets, and Portals of houses, by which they parceld forth the Ubiquity of God, and endeavoured to piece out that Omnipresence which exceeds the measure of finite capacities, with the rags of successive shifting of places. A third observation is which follows.  Sovereign Apollo, them with favour hear,  
And me with them: for I did still appear.  
With hand enlarged, 
28 The comparing this, with her presents Pag. 18. and her mothers, Pag. 24. shows a sweet contemplation drawn from the Law of Nature, and entire Reason, that the mites of a distressed innocent are more acceptable, than the Baskets of fruits, the Basins of Spies, Gums and Incense, the Boxes of Oils, with flagons of Wine, and all other pompous blandishments which dissembling oppressors offer.  according to my power.  
And now, Lycean King, I bring my store,  
I pray, I prostrate me, I beg. Combine  
Thy aid propitious in this great design.  
And then the unbelieving world shall see,  
What due rewards the gods to vice decree.  Qu. 
1 See how Mars breathing hostile blood,  
2 Before is tasting of his food,  
3 And entered rove within the house  
4 The chasers of facts villaxous  
5 The Hounds below!  
6 So that not fare behind doth go  
7 That which my mind did long foreknow.  
1 For in the house brought from the dead,  
2 The Judge in a disguise doth tread,  
3 His Father's rich and ancient seat,  
4 Grasping in hand his blade new whet:  
5 And Maia's son,  
6 Close Merc'ry leads them, putting on  
7 A mist to th' last, nor tarry's till anon.  El. 
Lady's most dear, The men within disspatch  
The business, here do you with silence watch.  Qu. 
How? Now what do they?  El. 
While she does provide  
A cauldron for the dead, they stand beside.  Qu. 
And why did you come out?  El. 
To stand a guard,  
Lest Egist enter in and ne'er be heard.  Clyt. 
Ah! Ah! Woe! the House  
Widowed of Friends, and seized upon by Fiends!  El. 
One cri's within, do you not hear my friends?  Qu. 
1 I a dismal hearing heard,  
2 Made unhappy me afeard.  Clyt. 
1 O me forlorn! Egist, where art thou? gone.  El. 
2 Look, one cris out again.  Clyt. 
O son! O son!  
3 Pity thy Mother.  El. 
But I'm sure nor He,  
4 Nor his own Father, pitied were by thee.  Qui. 
1 Wretched City; wretched House,  
2 Now the Fate of old thine own  
3 Thee into waste ruins throws  
4 Down, Down.  1 Clyt. 
Oh! I am stabbed!  El. 
Courage and mend your blow.  Clyt. 
Oh! and again!  El. 
Would Egist were so too!  Qui. 
1 The Curses prove. They breathe  
2 Whom Earth had lodged beneath:  
3 For he which long ago was dead, now drains,  
4 Channels of Blood from out the Murderers veins.  El. 
1 So they come forth, his Crimson hand doth wreak  
2 With Wars oblation; But I cannot speak  
3 How are things carried?  Or. 
Things within are wrought  
4 Well if Apollo's wisdom well hath taught,  
5 The Wretch is Dead; Henceforth all Fear displace,  
6 Your Mother's spite ne'er shall you more disgrace.  Qui. 
1 Peace! for I discover clear,  
2 Egist does in sight appear.  El. 
1 Lady's, what not retire?  Or. 
Do you perceive  
2 The Man at Hand?  El. 
He doth the suburbs leave  
3 With Jocund pace—  
4—  Qui. 
1 In the House: go Ambushed sit,  
2 With all present speediness:  
3 Those things hitherto have hit  
4 May these!  Or. 
1 Rest quiet we perform your will.  El. 
Then haste.  Or. 
2 I'm lodged.  El. 
My charge be o'er these actions placed  Qui. 
1 'Twere best a while picquere,  
2 And buzz into his ear  
3 Some idle tale; and play the fish, that so  
4 He unawares may rush on judgements blow.  Egist. 
1 The Phocian strangers which of you can shows  
2 Who of Orestes death they say bring news,  
3 That he was cast away i'th' Chariet-wrecks?  
4 Can you? or you? or can you I must ask  
5 That were so fierce before: for you I take  
6 Here most concerned, and best report can make.  El. 

26 Electra in all heranswers now only mocks with a double meaning play's upon hisignorance to baffle him while things are set in order with in.  Know it! how should I less? or I should An utter Alien to my dearest grief.  Eg. 
Resolve me where one may the strangers live find  El. 
Within: for 've met with their Hosts kind.  Eg. 
And did they say for certain he was Dead?  El. 
No, (but they showed him too) not only said.  Eg. 
And may we see this plain convincing light?  El. 
You may: yourself will pity much the sight.  Eg. 
Much joy thou tell'st me of besides thy wont.  El. 
Increase your joy if this for joy you count!  Eg. 
Silence I will you, and the Gates unfold,  
That Argives and Mycenians may behold:  
That so if any with presumption spread,  
Hath stuffed his Sails, seeing the Prince is dead  
He may my Curb endure, and henceforth fear  
Lest condemn, his haughty Head to rear.  El. 
My duty is performed: for I late wit  
Have got, and can to power now submit.  Eg. 
The Body of slain Clytaemnestra is drawn forth veiled into the Stage, represented to Egist as the Corpse of Orestes. O Jove! A sight I see with sorrow clo'yd,  
But whether judgements hand I not decide.  
Withdraw the Veil that even I may shed,  
A tear upon my Kinsman that is dead.  Or. 
Take it yourself. 'Tis not mine but your own  
To look upon, and with kind words to mean.  Eglantine, 
'Tis right, I will: But some of you 'bout House  
Go Clytaemnestra hither call to us.  Or. 
She is hard by you; look no further for her.  Eg. 
He disinvelops it. Oh! what see I?  Or. 
Whom look you on with horror?  Eg. 
What Men have me within their notes enclosed  
At unawares?  Or. 
Have you not that supposed,  
How you alive talk with the Dead thus free?  Eg. 
Alack, I take the word. It cannot be,  
But this Orestes is, who talks with me.  Or. 
You out so long and such A Cunning Man!  Eg. 
Wretch I am lost: yet let me this obtain  
Hear one word.  El. 
Brother, do not, I beseech  
Let him go on, and spin a tedious speech.  
For wherein is a Dying Man relieved  
If he one grievous Minute be reprieved?  
But kill him out of hand, and being killed,  
Give him the Bury all of the open field  
Out of our sight: for only this will lose  
The sad remembrance of my ancient woes.  Or. 
Get you in quickly: For you now Commence  
An Execution and no defence.  Eg. 
Why do you hale me in? if this be fair  
Why lacks it Night, and dreads the open Air?  Or. 
Appoint you not. But to the Chamber hy  
Where you my Father killed and there Come die.  Eg. 
Is it ordained that that same Room must see  
The Pelops Ills that are, and Are to be.  Or. 
It must yours. I of that give a  guess.  Eg. 
Your Father's honour you do not profess.  Or. 
You much dispute, but go but slowly on.  
Advance.  Eg. 
Go first.  Or. 
No you must lead the van.  Eg. 
Shall I not scape you.  Or. 
I must now beware  
All ease that you a bitter death may share.  
'Twere fit this Martial law did still prevail,  
That who so durst transgress the statutes pale,  
Might straight be killed, for villains soon would fail.  Qui. 
Atreus' seed how hard oppressed,  
Art thou at length arrived at rest  
by this Assay redressed!  
THE END.   

THE EPILOGUE: Showing the Parallel in two Poems, THE RETURN, and THE REST AURATION, Addressed to her Highness, the Lady ELIZABETH. MDCXLIX.  

THE RETURN. To Her Highness, the Lady ELIZABETH.  
BRight Saint,  
Just Heaven hath seen thy Tears:  
Thy Brother on our Isles appears.  
Request and Sorrow now leave off,  
When glad Enjoyment says, Enough.  
Let no sad Thought take from the grace  
Of a serene and full-blown Praise.  
Looks overcast but ill do suit,  
The Royal Stranger to salute.  
Honour with mirth now reconciles:  
Reject not those officious smiles  
Which hover yet aloof, and seek  
To perch upon your lovely cheek.   

MADAM,  

Lift up your pleasant eye,  
In yonder Nook sits Majesty.  
Our Sov'reigne at that Spot begun  
Three Kingdoms just Possession.  
Thus a received Turf doth yield,  
Full seisin of its native Field;  
And from that straight and distant sphere,  
Weighs and directs his free Carrier.  
As first the early point of Day,  
Aloof does but the Earth survey,  
But straight the dark profound invades,  
And chases out the flying shades.   

There he debates what ready way,  
A glorious Entrance to assay.  
The numerous sinners he descries  
Parted by Seas and Enmiti's.  
He sees, and so do the sage States,  
That as their Fear, their Love abates:  
Because, though their grim Horsemen tread  
Upon the quaking countries' head;  
Though they our lives hang at their beck,  
And a stiff yoke about our neck;  
Though they can spoil without Consent,  
Yet  they rule we must Indent:  
Force can but in a Rape engage,  
IT is Choice must make it Marriage.   

Hence a Conveyance they contrive,  
Which must on us their Cause derive:  
This must attaque, what holds out still,  
And is impregnable, the Will.  
This must enchant our conscious hands,  
To slumber in like guilty bands,  
While like the froward Miltonist,  
We our old Nuptial knot untwist:  
And with the hands, late faith did join,  
This Bill of plain Divorce now sign.  
Here their New Kingdom must commence,  
And Sin conspire with Conscience.  
This spills our Blood lost in just wars,  
And brands with Shame our honest Scars:  
His Father's murder this commends,  
And crowns it with its plotted ends.  
His Sacred Person this assails,  
And the dire Regicide entails.  
He, the bold Blank defied discerns,  
And Malice but his Laughter earns;  
So what they for fresh lists devise,  
Into their thin short Kingdom pry's.   

Next he the Realm views in all parts  
Shut on Him, but the People's hearts.  
While his approach new warmth doth shed  
On those Desire had massacred.  
His double Righteousness all draws  
That of Himself, that of his Cause:   

His Person Signatures presents  
Where King and Conquest pitch their tents;  
Taller, than Palms, whose humble Top,  
Does to his lofty Temples stoop.  
And pays a tributary Bough;  
To bind on his Victorious Brow.  
Then Beacons placed on Mountains, those  
Mountains which HER late Prince outgrows  
A valiant Black his Brow doth wear,  
Our reverence; but Traitors fear:  
His look speaks out, it was designed,  
Subjects to conquer, not to find.  
Which Heat, lest we should fear his Ray's,  
The Father's Clemency allays;  
See how our heaving Souls enlarge!  
See how fresh Spirits our strength surcharge!  
Till in his Banner wrapped we prove,  
Nothing so strong as loyal Love:  
And touched from Heaven with holy flame  
His Throne we plant, his Foes we tame.    

THE REST AURATION. To Her said Highness,  
GReat Princess,  

Then the Royal Nun,  
Shall find her Husband in her Son.  
And take, since mourning weeds must cease  
Beauty and Honour for her dress.  
Her love impregnable did stand,  
Against the Sea, against the Land.  
While her Lord grieved, she scorned delight,  
Companion of his Bed and Flight.  
She thought it Dutiful to claim  
A Portion in her Husband's shame.  
Wherefore our streets when she shall pass,  
Proud Matrons shall impale the ways:  
And as she walks her pious eye's,  
Our easy Dames will Catechise.   

Thy Prison too shall then fly ,  
And ripe deliverance kiss Hope.   

Here Thy free sight at large shall rove,  
And Thou if but look up Above,  
Thy Brother in his Throne shalt eye  
Burnished in a full Majesty.   

About his Seat at each just Hand,  
A bright Array of Peers shall stand.  
Not such who take up their high Name,  
On credit of some dalliant Dame:  
These in mean Lusts spend their cheap Age,  
Nor ought degenerate from the Page.  
Hence, they at rates low as their wit,  
Can their usurped Honour quit.  
For though an Apparition gay,  
May ruffle in the milky way.  
Taking acquaintance with the star's,  
Like one of their familiar Peers:  
Nay may rant down the lesser fry,  
Like Younger Brothers of the sky;  
And boasting of his richer light,  
First Cousin to the Sun should write:  
Yet if he shall his Orb resign;  
Shut up his Windows; cease to shine;  
If his assumed Beauty's smoot;  
And through the empty Hollow shoot;  
Scattering all along the air,  
His periwig of yellow hair;  
Till he the lower Region plough,  
And takes his bed up in a slough:  
The Gazer that did late admire  
His flagrant robes, and Tissue fire,  
That then the Gallant did rehearse  
Amidst the sparkling Courtiers,  
When he perceius his borrowed Lamp  
With its exhausted Oil to damp;  
Soon tracks the Cheaters sordid birth  
From some dull Commoner of earth.  
This Arm o'th' sea of light mistake,  
Dried up, proves Land-waters and Brook.  
Our Lords their own clear line make good,  
Marked out by loyal Parents blood,  
Which the unspotted Plumes doth lave,  
That on their Crowned Temples wave:  
They vouch their True and High Extraction,  
By constant Faith, by noble Action.   

Then let thy meek Affection bow,  
To view and glad our Realm Below.  
Here from a Popular bondage freed  
The Country shall list up her head;  
The Whip and Yoke now under hoof,  
She kissing the sost rain of love,  
With thankful mirth aloud shall ring,  
Preferred to serve her gracious King.  
Thou shalt one spotless joy behold,  
By no allaying sigh controlled.   

Thus mark in Halls of great resort,  
At Penshurst, or some Prince's Court,  
If my Lords angry Gentlemen  
(The Upper House of his great train)  
Or some big Steward shall crush down  
His Fellows with perpetual frown;  
The House, because he domineers,  
And Takes upon him o'er his Peers,  
Think the Yoke too hard to be born;  
Not for the Burden, but the Scorn.  
When if the wiser Lady soon  
Spy and remove the grief, anon  
You may a cheerful duty see,  
Flit through the busy Family.  
No Monster is so much abhorred,  
As an Inferior surly lord.   

The Villagers their knees shall bow,  
Not awed by a stern troopers brow:  
As Larks upon their Pestles squat,  
If but one daring Hobby bait.  
Nor shall this Care their gladness spoil,  
How they to be undone must toil.   

The Wealth City shall give thanks  
In decent State, and Reverend ranks:  
Not offering up constrained Rites,  
Amidst Church-driven Proselytes.  
No lip a faint Amen shall say,  
While the Recusant Heart would, Nay.  
The Heart whose pensive strings are wracked,  
With stock decayed, and credit cracked:  
For draining taxes more unsluce  
Their gains, then doth bloodthirsty Use.  
While they a thin subsistence beat,  
Manured by Perjury and Sweat,  
Tacking a fortune up, until  
Themselves, the last of Wares they sell,  
For unseen stars and Countries bound,  
Where no Wise Parliament is found;  
For where the savage Ethiop fries,  
No pineond Dragon is so Wise.  
Our welcome Exiles home shall flee:  
Our waiting Captives be set free.   

From obscure Denns, from untrackd Caves  
The retired Clere shall break their graves:  
And from Contempt reformed put on  
Glory and resurrection.  
The Sons of Wisdom shall release  
Their patiented Spirits into meek peace;  
Each reassuming his old Care,  
Seated in a becoming Chair;  
Hoary their Heads, their Tongue discreet,  
Open their Hands, spotless their Feet.   

When thou beholdest this rich Joy,  
Embased by no sad Alloy;  
Then mix thy Note and with one Choir,  
Let our free Souls in Praise aspire.    
FINIS.   

Courteous Reader, These Books following are printed for Humphrey Moseley, and are to be sold at his Shop at the Prince's Arms in St. Paul's Churchyard.  

Various Histories, with curious Discourses in Humane Learning, etc.  

1. DE Bello Belgico, The History of the Low-Country-Warrs, written in Latin by Famianus Strada, in English by Sir Robert Stapylton; illustrated with divers figures, newly printed, in Folio.  
2. The History of the Banished Virgin, a Romance, translated by I. H. Esquire, in Fol.  
3. The History of Pokxander, a Romance, Englished by William Brown Gent. Printed for T. W. and are to be sold by Humphrey Moseley, in Fol.  
4. The use of Passions, written by I. F. Senalt, and put into English by Henry Earl of Monmouth, in 8ᵒ.  
5. Letters between the Lord George Digby, and Sir Kenelm Digby Knight, concerning Religion, newly printed in 8ᵒ.  
6. Judicious and Select Essays, and Observations, written by the Renowned and learned Knight, Sir Walter Raleigh, with his Apology for his Voyage to Guiana, in 8ᵒ newly Printed.  
7. Unheard-of Curiosities concerning the Talismanical Sculpture of the Persians, the Horoscope of the Patriarches and the Judgement of the Stars, by James Gaffarel; Englished by Edm. Chilmead, Ch. Changed Oxon, newly printed in 8ᵒ.  
8. The Complete Horseman, and Expert Farrier, in two Books, by Thomas de Grace Esquire, newly printed with Additions, in 4ᵒ.  
9 Mr. james Howels History of Lewis the Thirteenth, King of France with the life of his Cardinal de Richelieu, in Fol.  
10. Mr. Howels Epistolae Ho-Elianae, Familiar Letters, Domestic and Foreign, in six Sections, partly Historical, Political, Philosophical, the first Volume with Additions, in 8ᵒ.  
11. Mr. Howels New volume of Familiar Letters, partly Historical, Political, Philosophical, the second Volume with many Additions, in 8ᵒ.  
12. Mr. Howels Third Volume of Additional Letters of a fresher date, never before published, in 8ᵒ.  
13. Mr. Howels Dodona's Grove, ort he Vocal Forest, the first part, in 12ᵒ with many Additions.  
14. Mr. Howels Dodona's Grove, or the Vocal Forest, the second part, in 8ᵒ never printed before.  
15. Mr. Howels England's Tears for the present wars.  
16. Mr. Howel of the Pre-eminence and Pedigree of Parliament, in 12ᵒ.  
17. Mr Howels Instructions and Directions for Foreign Travels, in 12ᵒ with divers Additions for Travelling into Turkey, and the Levant parts.  
18. Mr. Howels Vote, or a Poem Royal presented to his Majesty, in 4ᵒ.  
19 Mr. Howels Angliae Suspiria & lachrymae, in 12ᵒ.  
20. Policy unveiled, or Maxims of State, done into English by the Translator of Gusman, in 4ᵒ.  
21. The History of the Inquisition, composed by the R. F. Paul Servita, the compiler of the History of the. Council of Trent, in 4ᵒ. translated out of Italian.  
22. Biathanatos, a Paradox of self-homicide, by Dr Jo: Donne, Dean of Saint Paul's London, in 4ᵒ.  
23. Marquis Virgilio Malvezzi's Romulus and Tarquin, Englished by Hen. Eail of Menmouth, in 12ᵒ  
24. Marquis Virgilio Malvezzi's David persecuted, Englished by Ro. Ashley. Gent. in 12ᵒ.  
25. Marquis Virgilio Malvezzi, of the success and chief events of the Monarchy of Spain, in the year 1639. of the revolt of the Catalonians from the King of Spain. Englished by Rob. Gentilis Gent. in 12ᵒ.  
26. Marquis Virgilio Malvezzi's considerations on the lives of Alcibiades, and Coriolanus, Two famous Roman Commanders Englished by Rob. Gentilis Gent. in 12ᵒ newly printed.  
27. Gracious privileges granted by the King of Spain to our English Merchants, in 4ᵒ.  
28. The History of Life and Death, or the prolongation of Life, written by Francis Lord Verulam, Viscount St. Alban in 12ᵒ.  
29. The Antipathy between the French and the Spaniard, an ingenious translation out of Spanish, in 12ᵒ.  
30. Mr. Birds grounds of Grammar, in 8ᵒ  
31. Mr. Bulwers Philocophus, or the Deaf and Dumb man's friend, in 12ᵒ.  
32. Mr Bulwers Pathomyotomia, or the Dissection of the significative Muscles of the Affections of the Mind, in 12ᵒ.  
33. An Itinerary containing a voyage made through Italy in the years 1646, 1647. illustrated with divers Figures of Antiquity, never before published, by John Raymond, Gent in 12ᵒ  
34. A Discovery of Subterraneal Treasure, viz of all manner of Mines and Minerals, from the Gold, to the Coal, with plain Directions and Rules for the finding of them in all Kingdoms, and Countries, written by Gabriel Plat. Printed for I. E. and are to be sold by Humphrey Moseley, newly printed. 1653.    

Several Sermons, with other excellent Tracts in Divinity, written by some most eminent and learned Bishops, and Orthodox Divines.  

35 A Manual of private Devotions and Meditations for every day in the week, by the right reverend Father in God, Lancelet Andrews late Lord Bishop of Winchester, in 24o. newly printed.  
36. A Manual of Directions for the Sick, with many sweet Meditations and Devotions, by the right reverend Father in God, Lancelot Andrews, late Lord Bishop of Winchester, in 24º, newly printed.  
37. Ten Sermons upon several occasions, preached at Saint Paul's Cross, and elsewhere, by the right reverend Father in God, Arthur Lake, late Lord Bishop of Bath and Wells, in 4ᵒ.  
38. Six Sermons upon several occasions, preached at Court before the King's Majesty, and elsewhere, by that late learned and reverend Divine, John Donne; Dr. in Divinity, and Dean of St. Paul's London, in 4ᵒ.  
39 A Key to the Key of Scripture, or an exposition with notes upon the Epistle to the Romans, the three first chapters, by William Sclater, Dr. in Divinity and Minister of the word of God at Pitmister in Somersetshire, in 4ᵒ.  
40. Precious promises and privileges of the faithful, written by Richard Sibbs, Dr in Divinity, late Master of Katherine Hall in Cambridge, and Preacher of Gray's Inn London, in 12ᵒ.  
41. Sarah and Hagar, or the sixteenth Chapter of Genesis opened in nineteen Sermons, being the first legitimate Essay of the pious labours of that learned, Orthodox, and indefatigable Preacher of the Gospel, Mr. Josias Shute. B. D. and above 33 year's Rector of St Mary Woolnoth in Lombardstreet, in Folio.  
42. Christ's Tears with his love and affection towards Jerusalem, delivered in sundry Sermons upon Luke 19 v. 41, 42. by Richard Maden, B.D. Preacher of the Word of God, late of Magdalen College in Camb. in 4ᵒ.  
43. Ten Sermons preached upon several Sundays, and Saints days, by Peter Hausted Mr. in Arts, and Curate at Vppingham in Rutland, in 4ᵒ.  
44. Eighteen Sermons preached upon the Incarnation and Nativity of our blessed Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, wherein the greatest mysteries of Godliness are unfolded, to the capacity of the Weakest Christian, by John Dawson Own. in 4ᵒ.  
45. The History of the Defenders of the Faith, discoursing the state of Religion in England during the Reign of King Henry 8. Edward 6. Queen Marry, and Queen Elizabeth. by C.L. in 4ᵒ.  
46. Christian Divinity, written by Edmund Reeve Bachelor in Divinity, in 4ᵒ.  
47. The Communion-Book Catechism expounded by Edmund Reeve Bachelor in Divinity, in 4ᵒ.  
48. The true and absolute Bishop, wherein is showed how Christ is our only Shepherd and Bishop of our souls, by Nicholas Darton, Master in Arts, in 4ᵒ.  
49. A description of the Newborn Christian, or a lively pattern of the Saint militant, child of God, wrirten by Nicholas Hunt, Master in Arts, in 4ᵒ.  
50. Divine Meditations upon the 91. Psalms, and on The History of Agag King of Amalek, with an Essay of Friendship written by an honourable person, in 12ᵒ.  
51. An Historical Anatomy of Christian Melancholy, by Edmund Gregory. Oxon. in 8ᵒ.  
52. Lazarus his Rest, a Sermon preached at the Funeral of that pious, learned, and Orthodox Divine, Mr. Ephraim Udall, by Thomas Reeve, Bachelor in Divinity, in 4ᵒ.  
53. The Survey of Man, in a Sermon as it was delivered by Mr. John Bishop at his Father's funeral, in 4o. Printed 1652.    

Choice Poems, with excellent Translations, and incomparable Comedies and Tragedies, written by several ingenious Authors.  

54 COmedies and Tragedies written by Francis Beaumond, and John Fletcher, never printed before, and now published by the Author's Original Copies, containing 34 plays, and a Masque, in Fol.  
55. Epigrammata Thomae Mori Angli, in 16ᵒ.  
56. Fragmenta Aurea, A Collection of the incomparable Pieces, written by Sr. John Suckling Kt. in 8ᵒ.  
57 All Juvenals 16 Satyrs translated by Sir, Robert Stapylton wherein is contained a survey of the manners & actions of mankind, with Annotations, in 8ᵒ  
58. Musaeus on the loves of Hero and Leander, with Leander's letter to Hero, & her answer, taken out of Ovid, with Annotations by Sir Rob. Stapylton, in 8ᵒ.  
59 Poems, etc. written by Mr. Edward Waller of Beconsfield Esq; in 8ᵒ  
60. Pastor Fido, the faithful Shepherd, a Pastoral, newly translated out of the Original, by Mr. Rich. Fanshaw, Esq; in 4ᵒ.  
61. Poems, with a discovery of the Civil Wars of Rome by, Mr. Richard Fanshaw, Esq; in 4ᵒ.  
62. Aurora, Ismenia, and the Prince, with Oronta the Cyprian Virgin, translated by Thomas Stanley Esq; the 2d Edition corrected and amended, in 8ᵒ.  
63. Europa, Cupid crucified, Venus' Vigils, with Annotations, by Thomas Stanley, Esq; in 8ᵒ.  
64. Medea, a Tragedy written in Latin by Lucius Annaeus Seneca, Englished by Mr. Edward Sherburn Esq; with Annotations, in 8ᵒ.  
65. Seneca's answer to Lucilius his Quaere, why good men suffer misfortunes, seeing there is a Divine providence, translated into English verse by Mr Edward Sherburn Esq; in 8ᵒ.  
66. Poems of Mr John Milton, with a Masque presented at Ludlow Castle before the Earl of Bridge-water, than precedent of Wales, in 8ᵒ.  
67. Poems, etc. with a Masque called The Triumph of Beauty, by James Shirley, Gent. in 8ᵒ.  
68 Divine Poems, written by Francis Quarles, in 8ᵒ.  
69. The Odes of Casimire, translated by Mr. George Hills of Newark, in 12ᵒ.  
70. Steps to the Temple, Sacred Poems with the Delights of the Muses upon several occasions, by Richard Crashaw of Cambridge, in 12ᵒ.  
71. The Mistress, or several Copies of Love verses written by Mr. Abraham Cowley, in 8ᵒ.  
72. Arnalte and Lucenda, or the melancholy Knight, a Poem translated by L. Laurence, in 4ᵒ.  
73. The Sophister, a Comedy in 4ᵒ. by Dr. S.  
74. The Woman-hater, or, the Hungry Gourtier, a Comedy written by Francis Beaumond, and John Fletcher, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
75. The Tragedy of Thierry King of France, and his brother Theodoret, written by Francis Beaumond, and John Fletcher, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
76. The Elder Brother, a Comedy written by Fran. Beaumond, & John Fletcher, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
77. The Scornful Lady, a Comedy written by Francis Beaumond, and John Fletcher, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
78. Cupid's Revenge, a Tragedy written by Francis Beaumond, and John Fletcher, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
79. Monsieur Thomas, a Comedy written by Francis Beaumond, and John Fletcher, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
80. The two noble Kinsmen, a Comedy written by Francis Beaumond, and John Fletcher, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
81. The Tragedy of Albovine King of the Lombard's, written by William Davenant, in 4ᵒ.  
82. The Just Italian, written by William Davenant, in 4ᵒ.  
83. The Cruel Brother, a Tragedy written by William Davenant, in 4ᵒ.  
84. The Unfortunate Lovers, a Tragedy written by William Davenant, in 4ᵒ.  
85. Love and Honour, a Comedy written by William Davenant, in 4ᵒ.  
86. Madagascar, with other Poems, written by William Davenant, in 12ᵒ.  
87. The Country Captain, and the Variety, two Comedies written by a Person of Honour, in 12ᵒ.  
88 The Contention for Honour and Riches, a Masque written by James Shirley, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
89. The Triumph of Peace, a Masque presented by the four honourable Houses of Inns of Court before the King, and Queen's Majesty at Whitehall, 1633, written by James Shirley, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
90. The Duchess of Malfi, a Tragedy written by John Webster, Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
91. Poems written by Mr. William Shakespeare, Gent. in 8ᵒ.  
92. The Cid, a Tragicomedy, translated out of French by Joseph Rutter, Gent. in 12ᵒ.  
93. Alarms to Poets by I. L. in 4ᵒ.  
94. Fragmenta Poetica, or Miscellanies of Poetical Muse, by Nich. Murford, Gent. in 12ᵒ.  
95. Hymnus Tobaci Authore Raphaele Thorio, in 8ᵒ.  
96. Hymnus Tobaci, a Poem in Honour of Tobacco, heroically composed by Raphael Thorius, made English by Peter Hausted, Mr. of Arts Camb. newly printed in 8ᵒ.  
97. The Sophy, a Tragedy written by Mr. john Denham Esquire.  
98. Cooper's Hill, a Poem written by Mr. john Denham Esq; The second Edition in 4ᵒ. with Additions.  
99 Poems, with a Masque, by Thomas Carew Esquire, Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to his late Majesty, revived and enlarged with Additions. in 8ᵒ.  
100 Comedies and Tragedies, with other excellent Poems, by Mr. William Cartwright, late Student of Christ-Church in Oxford, and Proctor of the University. The Airs and Songs set by Mr. Henry Laws servant to his late Majesty in his public and private Music, newly printed in 8ᵒ.  
101. Clarastolla, with other occasional Poems, Elegies, Epigrams and Satyrs, written by R. Heath, Esq; in 12ᵒ.  
102. Olor Iscanus, a Collection of some select Poems, and Translations, written by Mr. Henry Vaughan Silurist, newly printed in 8ᵒ.  
103. The Academy of Compliments, wherein Ladies, Gentlewomen, Scholars, and Strangers may accommodate their Courtly practice, with Gentile Ceremonies, Complemental, Amorous, high Expressions, and Forms of speaking, or writing of Letters, most in fashion, with Additions of many witty Poems, & pleasant new Songs, newly printed.    

Books newly printed this present year for Humphrey Moseley.  

104. THe Psalms of David from the new Translation of the Bible, turned into Metre, to be sung after the old Tunes used in the Churches, by the Right Reverend Father in God, Henry King Bishop of Chichester, in 12ᵒ.  
105. The Life of the most Learned Father Paul, Author of the History of the Council of Trent, translated out of Italian by a person of Quality, in 8ᵒ.  
106. Choice Music for three Voices, and a Through Base, composed by Mr. Henry, and Mr. William Laws, brothers, and servants to his late Majesty; with divers Elegies set in Music by several Friends upon the death of Mr. William Laws, in 4ᵒ.  
107. Artificial Arithmetic, containing the Quintessence of the Golden Rule, the true valuation of all Annuities, also to find the distance at one station; an Art never till now published; useful for Gunners, Seamen, and Surveyors, by Rob. Jager, Gent. in 8ᵒ.  
108. Cassandra, the famed Romance, the three first Books written originally in French, & now elegantly rendered into English by the right honourable the Lord George Digby, in 8ᵒ.  
109. The History of Philoxipeses and Policrite, taken out of Artamene, or the Grand Cyrus; made English by an honourable Person, in 8ᵒ.  
110. The History of Don Fenise, a new Romance, written in Spanish by Francisco de las-Coveras, treating the Several effects of Love, and Fortune, Englished by a Person of Honour, in 8ᵒ.  
111. La Stratonica, or the unfortunate Queen, a new Romance, written in Italian, and now Englished by I. B. Gent. in 4ᵒ.  
112. Ibrahim, or the Illustrious Bassa, an Excellent new Romance, the Whole Work in four parts, written in French by monsieur de Scudery, and now Englished by Henry Cogan. Gent. in Fol.  
113. Cassandra, the famed Romance, the whole Work in five parts, written originally in French, and now Elegantly rendered into English by a Person of quality, in Fol.  
114. Cleopatra, a new Romance, written in French by the Famed Author of Cassandra, and now Englished by a Gen. of the Inner Temple  
115. The Wild-Goose-Chase, a Comedy written by Fran. Beaumond & I. Fletcher, Gent.  
116. The Widow, a Comedy written by E'en. Johnson, john Fletcher, & Thomas Midleton.  
117. The Sovereignty of the British Seas, written by that learned Knight Sir John Boroughes Keeper of the Records in the Tower.    

Books printed this Term for Humphrey Moseley.  

118. Poems and translations, the Complete Works of Thomas Stanley Esquire, in 8ᵒ. 1653.  
119. Herodian of Alexandria his Imperial History of twenty Roman Caesars and Emperors of his time, first written in Greek, now converted into an Heroic Poem by C. B. Stapleton in 4ᵒ. 1653.  
120. Grammatica Burlesa, or a new English Grammar, made plain and easy for Teacher and Scholar, composed by Edward Burles Mr. of Arts and Schoolmaster at East-Acton in Midlesex, in 12ᵒ. 1653.  
121. Zions' Prospect in its first view, presented in a Summary of Divine truths, consenting with the faith professed by the Church of England, confirmed from Scripture and Reason, composed by Mr. Ro. Mossom Minister.  
122. Quaestio Quodlibetica, or a discourse whether it be lawful to take Use for Money, by R. F. Knight in 12ᵒ. 1653.  
123. Historical Relations of the United Provinces of Flanders, written in Italian by Cardinal Bentivoglio, and now rendered into English by the Right Honourable Henry Earl of Monmouth, in Fol. 1653.  
124. Choice Novels and Amorous Tales, written by the most refined wits of Italy, newly translated into English by a Person of Quality, in 8ᵒ. 1653.  
125. Nissena, an excellent new Romance, written Originally in Italian, and now Englished by an Honourable Person, in 8ᵒ. 1653.  
126. The Changeling, written by Thomas Middleton and W. Rowley, Gent. in 4ᵒ. 1653.  
127. Paradoxes, Problems, Characters etc. by Dr. Donne D. of St. Paul's, to which is added a Book of Epigrams, written in Latin by the same Author; translated by Jasper Main D. D.  
128. Ignatius his Conclave a satire written by Dr. Donne Dean of Saint Paul's.  
129. Essays in Divinity by Dr. Donne D. of St. Paul's, before he entered into holy Orders.    

These Books I have now in the Press, ready to come forth.  

130. Six new Plays, viz. 

The BROTHERS.  
The SISTERS.  
The DOUBTFUL HEIR.  
The IMPOSTURE.  
The CARDINAL.  
The COURT SECRET.   By James Shirley, Gent. in 8ᵒ. Being all that ever the Author made for the Private house in Blackfriars.  
131. The Sinners Tears in Meditations and Prayers, by Thomas Fettiplace of Peterhouse Cam●. in 12ᵒ.  
132. The Natural and experimental History of Winds written in Latin by the right Honourable Francis Lord Verulam Viscount St. Alban, translated into English by an admirer of the learned Author, in 12ᵒ.  
133. The Card of Courtship, or the Langrees, Sexes, and Conditions, in 12ᵒ. 1653. guage of Love, fitted to the Humours of all De-  
134. Renatus des Cartes's Excellent Compendium of Music with Necessary and Judicious Animadversions Thereupon by a Person of Honour, Illustrated with divers figures. 1653.  
135. Natural & divine Contemplations of the Passions and faculties of the soul of man in three books, written by Nicholas, Mosley Esq;    

These Books I do purpose to Print very Speedily.  

136. THe History of the Wars of the Emperor justinian with the Persians, Goths, and Vandals, written in Greek by Procopius of Caesarea, in eight books, translated into English by Sir Henry Holtcraft, Kt.  
137. The History of the Kingdom of Naples, with a large and exact Description of the Situation, Quality, & nature of the Country, the Manners and Conditions of the People, with the famous Antiquityes, and the worthy men that have lived therein, etc. Composed by the most Elaborate care of Samson Lennard, Esquire.  
138. Poemata Graeca & Latina, à Gulielmo Cartwright, è C. C. Oxon.  
139. Le Chemin Abrege, or a Discourse for the attaining of Sciences in a short time, with the Statutes of the Academy of the Cardinal Richelieu, translated out of French.  
140. The Secretary in Fashion, or a Compendious and refined way of Expression in all manner of Letters, composed in French by P. Sr. de la Serre augmented with instructions how to write Letters, moreover a Collection of 26 Choice moral Letters, written by the most refined wits of this age, also the Compliments of the French tongue newly translated into English by a Person of Quality.