Orestes Goffe, Thomas This text is an enriched version of the TCP digital transcription A01840 of text S103295 in the English Short Title Catalog (STC 11982). Textual changes and metadata enrichments aim at making the text more computationally tractable, easier to read, and suitable for network-based collaborative curation by amateur and professional end users from many walks of life. The text has been tokenized and linguistically annotated with MorphAdorner. The annotation includes standard spellings that support the display of a text in a standardized format that preserves archaic forms ('loveth', 'seekest'). Textual changes aim at restoring the text the author or stationer meant to publish. Martin Mueller Incompletely or incorrectly transcribed words were reviewed and in many cases fixed by Melina Yeh Heejin Ro This text has not been fully proofread EarlyPrint Project Evanston IL, Notre Dame IN, St.Louis, Washington MO 2017 Distributed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 Unported License A01840.xml The tragedy of Orestes, vvritten by Thomas Goffe Master of Arts, and student of Christs Church in Oxford: and acted by the students of the same house. Goffe, Thomas, 1591-1629. 34 600dpi TIFF G4 page images University of Michigan, Digital Library Production Service Ann Arbor, Michigan 2003 May (TCP phase 1) 99839052 STC (2nd ed.) 11982. Greg, II, 485. 3448 A01840 2248559667

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 The tragedy of Orestes, vvritten by Thomas Goffe Master of Arts, and student of Christs Church in Oxford: and acted by the students of the same house. Goffe, Thomas, 1591-1629. [68] p. Printed by I[ohn] B[eale] for Richard Meighen, and are to be sold at his shop at the middle Temple-gate, neere Temple-barre in Fleetstreet, London : 1633. 1617

In verse.

Printer's name from STC.

Signatures: A2 B-I4.

Reproduction of the original in the Yale University. Library.

 A01840 shc Orestes Goffe, Thomas Melina Yeh Heejin Ro 1617 play tragedy shc no A01840 S103295 (STC 11982). 68 24075 0 0 0 0 0 0 0.00 A This text has no known defects that were recorded as gap elements at the time of transcription. Incorporated ~ 10,000 textual changes made to the SHC corpus by Hannah Bredar, Kate Needham, and Lydia Zoells between April and July 2015 during visits, separately or together, to the Bodleian, Folger and Houghton Libraries as well as the Rare Book Libraries at Northwestern University and the University of Chicago Boston Public Library, BRLL

THE TRAGEDY OF ORESTES , Written by THOMAS GOFFE Master of Arts , and Student of Christs Church in OXFORD : AND Acted by the STVDENTS of the same HOVSE .

LONDON , Printed by I. B. for RICHARD MEIGHEN , and are to be sold at his shop at the middle Temple-gate , neere Temple-barre in Fleetstreet . 1633 .

The Prologue . THe hush'd contentment of two silent howres , Breath pleasing ayres on these attentiue eares ; And since wee see in this well furnish'd roome , All our best neighbours are so kindely met , Wee would deuise some pleasing talke to spend : The lazie howres of the tedious night : But for our owne inuention , 't was too weake , Whereon our young Muse durst wholly leane . We heere present for to reuiue a tale , Which once in Athens great Eurypedes In better phrase at such a meeting told The learn'd Athenians with much applause : The same we will retell vnto your eares , Whose Atticke iudgement is no lesse then theirs : We here as builders which doe oft take stones , From out old buildings , then must hew and cut , To make them square , and fitting for a new ; So from an old foundation we haue ta'n , Stones ready squar'd for our new aedifice , Which if in pleasing our weake skill offends In making corners disproportionate , Some roome too narrow or some loft too high ; Yet we will hope , if the whole structure fall , Your bands like props will serue to beare vp all . Spoken by the Authour himselfe
The names of the Actors . King of Greece . The Queene . Clytemnestra's father . Father to Pylades . Two deare friends . Daughter to Agamemnon . Adulterer with Clytemnestra . A Fauorite , and Parasite .
The Tragedie of ORESTES . Actus primus ,
Scaena prima . Enter as from warre , Agamemnon : Clytemnestra : Orestes : Pylades : Aegysteus : cum caeteris . Agam. NOw a faire blessing blesse my dearest earth , And like a Bride adorne thy royall brow , With fruits rich Garand ; a new married Bride Vnto thy King and Husband , who too long Hath left thee widdowed : O , me thinks I see How all my Grecians with vnsatiate lookes Turnes to the spectators . And greedy eyes doe bid mee welcome home : Each eare that heares the clamour seemes to grieue It cannot speake , and giue a ( welcome King : ) Come Clytemnestra , let not anger make His wrinkled seat vpon my loues faire brow , I haue too long beene absent from thy bed , Chide me for that anon , when arme in arme I shall relate those proiects in loue termes , Which when they first were acted , made Mars feare To see each man turn'd to a God of warre . Clyt. O my deare Lord , absence of things wee loue , Thus intermixt , makes them the sweeter proue : That your departure pierc'd my tender soule , Witnesse those Christall floods which in my eyes Did make a sea , when you should goe to sea , Those streames which then flow'd from the veines of griefe At your returne doe ouerflow the banks . But t is with ioy . Agam. Now these eares indeed Haue chang'd their place : they which were wont to heare No musique but the summoning of warre Blowne thorow discords brazen instrument , Are blessed now with accents that doe fill My age-dry'd veynes with youthfull blood againe . These eyes which had no other obiect once , But Hector twixt the armes of Greece and Troy , Hewing downe men , and making euery field Flow with a sea of blood , now see 's blood flow In my Orestes cheeke : heauen blesse this plant Orestes kneeles , Sprung from the sap of this now iuicelesse oake , Now be thy branches greene , vnder whose shade I may be shaddowed from the heat of warre . Rise young Orestes , Oh how it glads my soule , To see my Queene and Sonne , my Sonne and Queene . Clyt. But come my Lord , true loue still hates delayes , Let no eares first be blessed with your breath , Till on my brest resting your wearied head , You tell your warre , where that the field 's your bed . Aga. My Queen shal haue her wil , see how times change , I that last night thought all the world a sea , As if our common mother earth , had now Shot her selfe wholly into Neptunes armes , And the strong hindges of the world had crackt , Letting the moone fall into th' swelling waues , Such watry mountaines oft did seeme to rise , And quite o'rwhelme vs , all the winds at warre , Banded the sea one to the others coasts , Ioue thinking Neptune gan to striue for heauen , Sent a new sea from thence , and with his thunder , Bad silence to the waues , they vncontrold , Kept on their noyse , and let their fury swell , Turning heauen , earth , sea , clouds , and all to hell , Such Troian that was saued then 'gan to cry , Happy were they that did with Priam die . It glads mee now to thinke , that that night was No starre , no , not Orion there appear'd , But this night 's turnd to day , and heere doth shine , For a good Omen my imbraced Queene . With whom her Agamemnon still will stay , Till age and death shall beare him quite away . Exeunt Agamemnon : Clytemnestra : eumeateris .
SCEN. II. manet Egysteus . Aegyst. ANd that shall be ere long , tush ( shall be 's ) slow , My vengefull thoughts tell mee thou now art dead . Fie saint Apollo , weakling infant-God , Why wouldst thou let lame Vulcan's hammers beat Downe those braue Turrets which thou help'dst to build ? Venus , I see thou art a woman now , Which here are like to take a double foyle , For me , that whilome reueld in thy campe In the sweet pleasures of incestuous sheets Must leaue our lou'd vnsatiate desires : But now begin , thou blacke Eumenides , You hand-mayds of great Dis , let such a flame Of anger burne mee , as doth Etna's forge , On fury , on , our hate shall not die thus : I 'll draw my poysonous arrow to the length , That it may hit the marke and fly with strength . Exit .
SCEN. III . Enter Orestes : Pylades : Orest. COme now my dearest friend , my other selfe , My empty soule is now fild to the top , Brimfull with gladnesse , and it must runne o'r Into my deare friends heart : those siluer hayres , Which Time hath crown'd my Fathers brow withall , Doe shine within mine eyes , and like the Sunne , Extract all drossie vapors from my soule , Like as the earth , whom frost hath long benumb'd , And brought an Icie drinesse on her face , Her veines so open at a sudden thaw , That all plants , fruits , flowers , and tender grafts , Kept as close prisoners in their mothers wombe , Starts out their heads , and on a sudden doth The sad earths countenance with a summer looke , So in this brest , here in this brest , deare friend , Whiles Annus ten times circled in the world Ten clumzie winters , and ten lagging springs Hath with my Fathers absence frozen beene All thoughts of ioy , which now shall make a spring In my refreshed soule ; " Things that wee daily see th' affections cloy , " Hopes long desired bring the greatest ioy : Pyl. Nay , but deare Cousin , giue not the reines too much To new receiued ioyes , lest that they runne With so much speed , that they out-Breath themselues ; Your Father is come home ; but being come Should now some wilfull afterclap of fate ( Which Omen Ioue forbid should come to passe ) But take him hence againe , and crosse your ioy : Each sparke of gladnesse which you now conceiue , Would turne a flame , for griefe still on extreme Altring his course , turnes to the diuers theame . Orest. Tush Pylades , talke not of what may be , Wee may , indeed i' th' clearest afternoone Expect a storme . Pyl. Yes , and such stormes oft come , And wet shrewd too , before we get at home . Orest. O , but I 'll be above all fatall power ; I that have such a Father new come home , I that have such a friend , such too rare gifts , Who gave mee these gifts , thought no scowling frowne Of angry fortune e'r should throw mee downe : Pyl. Call them not gifts Orestes , th' are but lent , Meere lendings friend , and lendings we must pay , When e'r the owner shall appoint his day . Orest. True , Pylades , but owners vse to warne Their debters when they must bring in their summes , But heauens tell mee with fauouring aspects , I still must keepe their lendings , and possesse , With fro like ioy , all their happinesse . Pyl. Trust not the heavens too much , although they smile , Good looks doe mortall hearts too oft beguile : The heauens are vsurers ; and as oft 't is seen A full poucht churle giue a most faire good Euen To his poore Creditor : who trusting that Hath slackt his payment : on the morrow next He hath beene rooted out by the tusky boare , Which gaue thee faire good Euen the day before : The heauens can doe thus too — Orest. Tush : mortalls must Leane on the sacred Heauen with greater trust ; But it growes farre in night , come let vs in To morrow shall our ioyes a fresh begin . Exeunt .
SCEN. IV. Enter Aegist . Clyt. with naked daggers , Agam. lying in his bed . EGyst. Night , now onely spred thy sable wings Ouer this climate , gather all thy fogs That they may meet , and make thy face more blacke ; Let horrid murder take thee by the hand And come along : I haue a prodigie Equall to all the murders , all the blood That hath been shed in all Troyes ten yeeres seige He draws the curtaine . So , snore returned King ; good Morpheus hang Thy leaden weights vpon his drowsie eyes Let him not wake till he shall see himselfe , Drencht in a sea of his vermilian goare : Thou doest no Troian , now no Hector feare , But yet I 'll shew thee a new Hector here . Clyt. See , I 'll turne man too now , and to the hate Which women beare , I 'll adde a manly strength , My minde does tremble , what I meane to doe Breath forth your vapors , O ye stygian powers , And listen to hatefull womans prayers . Pluto stand by me , for to aide my hand , I may strike home now , and performe an act May make Medea blush , she thought not of : Could the old dry bon'd dotard euer dreame , Now he had drawn forth all his strength abroad , He could be welcome to lye bedred here And supple his numbe ioynts in my fresh armes ? Aegyst. Spoke like a queene , spoke like Aegysteus loue , Now great Thyestes Genias , which didst prompt Mee to this act , come , be spectator now , And see reuenge for Athens bloody feast . And thou wrong'd Clytemnestra call to minde How his vnsatiate , lustfull , loath'd desire Doted on euery female face he saw , Rap't the Priests daughter , and so brought a plague On all the Grecian host : Clytem. yes , yes , Aegysteus , yes And rap't yong Briseis from Achilles bed ; Crowd all reuengefull thoughts into this houre , Now let thy sword let out that lustfull blood Wound him Aegisteus , kill him not at once , Aegist , stabs him , Wee 'll be true Tyrants , let him feele he dies Agam. Helpe Clytemnestra , helpe me my deare Queene . Clytem. Yes dotard I will helpe thee , thus , yes thus : Remember the Priests daughter : this for her , She stabs him . And this for Briseis : Agam. see , my Grecians , see , Your King which you so gladly entertain'd : Sol hide thy selfe in euerlasting night , Or when thou risest let thy blushing face , Make these to blush ; Clytem. I , so , curse on , curse on : Agam. O Clytemnestra , O my once deare wife , Is this the entertainment that thou giu'st ; Thy new come husband , gratulat'st thou thus My ten yeers absence ? see these frosty haires Would euen mooue Hecuba to pittie me , Looke on these aged armes which in this bed Thought to haue beene blessed with thy kinde imbrace , Clytem. Yes , mine or Cassandra's , old adulterer ? Agam. Kinsman Aegisteus ; O my dearest wife Whom shall I call ; me thinkes you both are mine , What Titius , what Megaera hath put on Aegysteus and my Clytemnestra's shapes ? Aegyst. Calst thou vs friends ? Stabs him againe . Agam. O be not so , and I 'll not call you so : Let not your coward weapons wound this head ; That earst did scorne to shrinke at Priams blow . O hew me not downe thus for my sonns sake , Deare Clytemnestra for Orestes sake . Is this the Troian tale how I should tell ! That here great Hector slew Antiochus , And here that Meontiades was slaine , And poore Prothesilaus deare to Laodamie : I thought to tell how these men lost their blood ; And see my blood is thus let forth at home . Aegyst. Is your hot blood yet cold ! Clyt. breath dotard , do ? You shall haue gapes inough to let your soule Finde a free passage to his deserued flames . Agam. No pitty yet ? O then , no pitty light On you , nor yours ; but let dire reuenge Come learne how she may after handle you : O , I am drown'd in blood , and now must yeeld To murderers weapons ; treason win's the field ; Alas this comming home hath had small ioy , Argos hath worser foes then euer Troy . Clyt. Now I am Clytemnestra right , now I deserue To adde one more to the three Furies , now Doe I count this more then my nuptiall night 'T is mine , t is thine Egystheus , and none else Shall share a minute of this right , but we . Egyst. Me thinks I now goe equall with the starres And my proud head toucheth the highest pole , Harke , Hell applauds me , and me thinkes I heare A noyse . Thyestes tell me I haue done enough : And now I kisse my hands , whilst yet they beare This tincture on them , and embrace my Queene , Now made my loue ; le ts in , this night the Fates Haue amply fed vs with reuengefull cates . Exeunt ,
SCEN. V. Enter Orestes , as from his bed , vnbuttoned in slippers , a torch in his hand . WHat horrid dreams affright me ? I see naught That I should feare , and yet me thinks I feare . Mine eyes scarce clos'd , my busie fancy saw A sight that dasht all comforts of the day : Me thought my Father lying in his tent , Hatefull Achilles for his wronged loue Comes in with Briseis , and they two let forth Streames of fresh blood from out his aged side , With that his Eccho'd schrieke did make me wake ; But I remembred then he was come home , And yet I 'll see him , still me thinks I quake , Doe I still dreame ? are not mine eyes vnclos'd ? he drawes the curtaine . Is this a torch ? yes , 't is , it burnes , I see I am awake , doe not delude me night ! Now stand on tiptoes Atlas , lift heauen higher , I may haue ayre inough to breath my woes , O let me yet recall thy posting soule If Charon haue not hurried thee too fast If yet thou hast not drunk on lethes poole , Come backe , and tell mee who it is this night , Hath don this deed farre blacker then the night ? Ha! art thou fled past call ? why thou wert old Me thinkes thou shouldst not haste so fast away : Was it for this thou swe'tst so oft in Armes ! Was it for this that the froth swelling foame When thy ships top toucht Heauen , and deepe plac'd hell , That thou must yet escape curl'd Neptune's waues To be a Palinurus in thy shoare There drowne thy aged locks in crimson goare . O if one sparke yet of thy Princely Soule Remaine within this trunke , now let it shine And light my ignorant eyes to reade the names Of these night vultures , whose deuouring bills Haue made a Titius of thy royall corps : Who did not feare great Agamemnons sleepe ? Arme , arme your selues all you , all potent Gods You which we terme Iust ministers of Heauen , Shoote forked lightning from the marble poale Let the all-seeing eye of heauen shoote flames Which may parch vp the marrow from their bones Should they lye coucht i' th brest a' th Thunderer , Or be entrencht with guards of Furies , Heauen , earth , nor hell should keepe them from my sword Dost thou sleepe Ioue ? O couldst thou snore so fast , And let thy great vicegerent thus be torne ? Some of th' immortall powers haue had fathers , And know what 't is to haue them murdered thus . But I turne woman now , O I raue out My passions ; doe griefe , poure out thy selfe , That thou mayst make roome in my empty heart To fill it with reuenge .
SCEN. VI. Enter Clytem . Aegyst . in night-robes . Clyt. HOw now ? what ayles our sonne , how now Orestes ! Orest. O some are come now to helpe me greiue , See , see mother , see , your husband and my Father , The King of Greece , great shepheard of his Land See , see him here : She faines her selfe to swown : Aeg. catcheth her falling , Cly. O helpe now good heauen to keepe my sexe Let me dissemble . Aegyst. Help my Lords the Queen . Clyt. O why let you not my soule , that whilst he liu'd , Was linkt to his , and would too now haue fled With wing'd desire to haue beene with him , What doe I liue for , Agamemnon slaine , My Lord , my King , my Husband , wake my Lord , What bloody Troian followed thee from thence To kill thee here , could he not one night Haue let me rested in thy sweet embraces ? Must he for surenesse make so many holes For thy sweet soule to flye to be a God ? O let my teares be balme to these thy wounds , Let my lips kisse , and warme thy gelid lips , Let my haire wipe these clots of blood away From thy age-honor'd side : O dry your teares , Ioyne knees and prayers with mee , awake ye Gods , And send our vows , since we can send no wounds : They both kneel . Come son , we women still know how to curse , Let him that did it be an Adulterer ; Aegyst. Faith she begins well , sure she knows the man : Clytem. Let him be conscious he hath done a deed Deserues reuenge , whether it fall or no ; Let him for euer beare in minde this night , And who 't was helpt him in this bloody act . Aegyst. Yes , hee 'll remember how you curse him now , Orest. If euer he haue children let them be Murdered before his face , that he may know How nature bindes a father and a sonne , Aegyst. Now hands I thanke you , now my soule : grows glad , Had not he greiu'd thus , I had lost reuenge . Clyt. But come my sonne , now let vs talke of graues , Of Epitaphs , and tombs , and 's soule being fled , Draw the curtaine , and carrie him away . Let 's lap his Trunke vp in a sheet of lead . Exeunt Clyt. & Aegyst . manet Orest. Orest. Me thinks I see a Tragedy at hand , To which this night hath as a Prologue bin ; I 'll make a prayer now worthy Atreus grandchilde , Let the foule Adder sting me as I walke , The poysonous toad belch her blacke venom forth In my despised face , let it be thought I neuer had a father , but some monster Bred by a slimy exhalation ; If my reuenge fly not with ample wing , Till then rest soule , hate told may lose his sting .
ACT. II.
SCEN. I. Enter Cassandrasola as a mad Prophetesse . Cass. O Ye dead Troians leape within your graues , O mother that thou hadst liu'd this night , Now thou 'ldst be glad to haue lost so many sons , The Grecians are reueng'd vpon themselues , I thanke thee soule , that thou keptst here till now To let me see Greece ouercome it selfe ; I liue , I liue , I 'm here , I liue to see 't : I doe not dreame on 't , no , I saw the blood Run from his side , whole Catarackts , all Greece : Apollo how am I bound now for this That I doe onely see this happinesse , Hecuba , Priame , young Astianax Looke Hecuba , Greece now doth act your woes , Laugh Hecuba , for now Electra weeps : And Tyndarus he knows not what to doe : Come little Cuz , come my Astianax , Orestes is in a worse case then thou . Still I had others for to weepe with me , But none are left to laugh now , but my selfe ; What should he feare at home ? A conquerer feare ? T is don , 't is done , leaue fighting Hector , leaue , The Grecians meane to fight against themselues , From Tyndarus the first brand tooke fire Which burnt downe Troy : and now an other here Kindles from him , to set a fire Greece , Graia iuuenca venit , quae se , patremque virumque Perdidit , Io laetor , Graia iuuenca venit : Hellen , thy sister Hellen , nay shee 's thine : Who could haue thought that Hector being slaine , Old Priame made a sacrifice to death , Troy turn'd to cindars , poore Andromacha Dragg'd by her haire to death , Astianax Sent out o' th world before he well came in , Ha , ha , who could haue thought after all this Cassandra should haue euer laught againe , One houre of laughter following many yeeres Of discontent , doth helpe to sweeten teares . Exit .
ACT. II. SCEN. II. Enter Aegystheus . Clytem . Aegyst. FAire morning to my Queene , nay more , my loue , How likes my sweet her change of bedfellow ? Clyt. Looke as a hollow leafelesse failing oake , To whom for that he hath bin her weight too long , The earth denies to lend him moysture , so His sap failes , and he stands on a green Mongst sprouting Elms , that they may seem more fresh Whilst hee 's but held a monument of yeeres , Such one seem'd Agamemnon ; a drie tree : Thou like a sprouting elme , whom I embrace Like twining Iuy , with these now-blest armes , Blest whilst this treasure in them they holdlockt . Aegyst. O who 'ld not doe a murder for a woman ! Heauen had but two things for the Gods reseru'd Fire , and women , when with Giant thought Promotheus had tane one , Ioue in his rage Threw him the to'ther , bad him keepe 'em both , O th' are rare creatures , they haue such Maeanders , Their teares will come and goe with such Art , Come now my Queene , one sweet Ambrosian kisse ; O Nectar ! prethe hadst thou taught thy teares How they should flow before : Clyt. No , trust me loue , I knew my teares would soon be at command , And faith the boy had almost made me weepe Really once : were not my curses rare ? Aegyst. Yes , all was woman like , but yet that boy He tooke it deepely , would he were with his father , So gon , it skills not how , were he away We would act freely all our lustfull play : Clyt. O but my loue , hee 's mine ; nor can the rauen Dig her sharpe beake into her owne birds brest ; He will forget his father : woe will breake , 'T is not the greatest griefe that most doth speake . Egyst. O but hee 'll beare a still suspitious eye ; And who in bloudy Scenes doth act a part , Thinks euery eye doth penetrate his heart . Nor can we ere be free , or I inioy True pleasures , we must be but theeues at most , Close in delights , and haue a Pander still To be a Factor , 'twixt thy bed and mine This we could haue before , what now we doe The world should see done , and applaud it too . Clyt. Why my deare Loue , I that would set my hand To staine my marriage sheets with husbands blood Would let these hands instructed now in ill , Not leaue one arme of that vprooted tree ; Could but Aegystheus giue me any hope , That from this top there should one spreading branch Grow vp and flourish . Aegyst. Now thou art thy selfe , Yes , yes my loue , there shall one spring from vs Shall be a lofty Pine , let this be cropt , Murder must murder guard , guilt adde to guilt , After one drop whole streams of blood be spilt . walks away .
SCEN. III . Enter Pylades : Orestes : Electra : Strophius . DEare friend , what mean you , to o'rwhelme your selfe , In such a sea of griefe ? Orest. Father deare Agamem . Pyl. Nay let this tempest fall , thou hast lost a father , Why , t is but change , my father shall be thine , I 'll be thy brother , nay , I 'll be thy selfe , Weepe when thou weep'st , and where thou go'st I 'll goe , And bring thee on thy pilgrimage of woe . Elect. Brother , looke vp , haue not I lost a father ? Yes , and would a riuer of fresh teares Turne Lethes streame , and bring him from the wharf , With a North gale of windy blowing sighs , I would expire my soule , become all teares . Stroph. Come , you haue lost a father , I a brother , The Queene a Husband , all the Land a King , Yet all thi 's but a man ; Therefore must die : Our woes may all be in one ballance poys'd , His booke of life the Fates had ouer-read , And turn'd the leafe where his last period stood , Now an immortall wreath circles his brow , And makes him King in heauen , who was before At most a God on earth ; Hence difference springs , Kings are earths Gods , and Gods are heauenly Kings . Orest. Let vs ioyne words then now , and Swan-like sing , The dolefull dirge to a departed King : Thou friend didst of this misery diuine , Therefore the burthen of the song is mine : Words Orators for woe , which plead the cause , When griefe 's the Iudge , and sighs are all the lawes , Each one a sob , for Diapason beares , Our tunes shall drowne the musique of the spheares : O what Hirudo with vnsatiate thirst , Could draw the blood from out those Princely veynes , From whence flowes comfort to so many soules . Spies his mother , goes to her . Mother , when wept you last , heere take a scarfe Dry your eyes , now by Ioue you need none , What shine of comfort hath dri'd vp your teares ? Clyt. Our sonne 's too sawcie with his mother Queene : Why , Sir , shall you tell vs a time to weepe ? Orest. Vs ? good : Who is 't makes the plurality ? 'T was wont to be my father , does he liue ? Clyt. Sir , curbe this lauish speech , or I 'll forget You are my sonne , and make you but a subiect . Aegyst. Good Cousin adde not disobedience Vnto your mothers griefes . Orrst. My mother , no , She is not here , no , she hath hid her selfe In some odde nooke , or angle vnperceiu'd , She might not see this impious stygian world . Clyt. Aegistheus , canst thou still suffer thy dul sword i' th sheath ? Take the ranke head from this o'r-growing weed . Stro. Remember Clytemnestra , he 's your sonne . Clyt. He is so , and I 'll learne him to be so : Had I a brazen bull , it should be heat , Hotter then for the Tyrant : Disobedient ? More harsh then Adders hisses is thy voyce , Sir , you shall die , but with a liuing death , He still shall liue , but liue to know he dies ; Who strait threats death , knowes not to Tyrannize . Exeunt Aegystheus , Clytemnestra . Stro. What temper 's growne on the distracted Queene ! Hath griefe conceiu'd for her late husbands death , Brought her so farre , shee hath forgot her selfe ? Orest. No Vncle , no , by heauen , I doe suspect , O , my propheticke soule diuines much ill : Well , I will flie , but heare this stratagem , It shall be rumor'd i' th eare o' th Court I was found dead , I 'll put a new shape on , And liue alone , to heare how things goe here . Pyl. Nay , not alone Orestes , whilst I liue , Shouldst make thy bed vpon the rigid Alps , Or frozen Caucasus , wrapt in sheets of snow , I 'd freeze vnto thy side ; we will tell tales Of Troian warriers , and deposed Kings , Tell of strange shipwracke , of old Priams fall , How mad Andromacha did teare her hayre , When the wild horses tore braue Hectors limbs : Wee 'll thinke they all doe come , and weepe with vs ; Griefe loues companions , and it helpeth woe , When it heares euery one grone forth his ( Oh ) It easeth much , and our plaints fall more sweet , When a whole consort , in one tune doe meet . The halfe-dead ship-man , which hath shipwracke borne , Seeing many drown'd , it makes him lesse to mourne : It made Deucalion care the lesse to die , When hee had all the world in company . Thus we will sit , and our teares turnes shall keepe , Thou for thy father , I for thee will weepe ; If actors on the stage hauing no cause , But for to winne an hearers hands applause , Can let fall teares , wee 'll thinke wee Actors be , And onely doe but play griefes Tragedie . Orest. O , but deare friend , should we but act a part , The play being ended , passion left the heart , And we should share of ioy , but my whole age Must neuer moue from off this wofull Stage : But we must take our leaue ; Vncle , farewell , Remember what I spake ; and Sister , you Must tarry here , my thoughts shall busied be , To finde the man that let my father blood ; Can I but finde Aegystheus did consent , To spill one drop , O I would pierce his heart With venom'd daggers , and so butcher him , That all Apollo's skill in physicke hearbs , Nor Aesculapius th' Epidaurian God , Should keepe his soule out of Enio's hand ; Come my deare friend , to all the rest farewell , If heauen relate it not , I 'll know 't from hell . Exeunt Pylades : Orestes .
SCEN. IIII . Enter Aegysteus : Clytemnestra : Mysander : Strophiues : Electra another way . Aegyst. WHat , is Orestes fled ? sure there 's some plot , If you deare Queen , but search Elect . well , You 'll finde she knowes whither her brothers gone , Clyt. If in her heart there be but lodg'd a thought , Vnknowne to mee this hand shall rip her brest , And search her inparts : but I 'll finde it out . Mysander , call Electra : Aegyst. O , were that moat tane from our comforts beams , No cloud could euer then o'rshade our ioyes , His life must be cut off without delay , Mischiefe by mischiefe findes the safest way ; But here 's Electra : Clyt. Why , how now Minion , what a blubbering still ? Huswife , pray where 's your brother , where 's my sonne ? Elect. Mother , pray wher 's my father , wher 's your husband , Haile to my gratious Queene , here 's one at doore Enter Strophius , and speaks . Brings you a message , hee will not relate To any , but your selfe , he saies t is sad . Clyt. Why , the more dismall , the more welcome 't is , But as for you . Elect. Good mother doe your worst , No plague can euer make me more accurst , Nothing is worse then death , that I 'll not flye . Clyt. Yes , life is worse to those that faine would die . But where 's the messenger ?
SCEN. V. Enter Nuncius . WHat whirlewind rising from the wombe of earth Doth raise huge Pelion vnto Ossa's top , That both being heapt , I stand vpon them both And with an hundred Stentor-drowning voyce , Relate vnto the world the saddest tale , That euer burdned the weake iawes of man : Aegyst. Why , what portentuous newes ? Amaze vs not , Tell vs what e'r it be . Nun. Were my minde settled , would the gellid feare , That freezeth vp my sense , set free my speech , I would vnfold a tale which makes my heart Throb in my intralls : when I seeme to see 't . Clyt. Relate it quickly , hold 's not in suspence . Nun. Vpon the mount of yonder rising cliffe , Which the earth hath made a bulwarke for the sea , Whose peerlesse head is from the streames so high , That whosoe'r lookes downe , his braine will swim With a vertigo : The space remou'd so farre The obiect from the eye , that a tall ship Seem'd a swift flying bird : vpon this top Saw I two men making complaints to heauen , One's voyce distinctly still cry'd , Father , King , Great Agamemnon : whose diuiner soule Fled from thy corps , exil'd by buchers hands , His friend still sought to keepe his dying life With words of comfort , that it should not rush Too violently vpon the hands of Fate . He deafe as sea , to which he made his plaints , Still cryed out , Agamemnon , I will come , And finde thy blessed soule where e'r it walke , In what faire Tempe of Elisium So e'r it be , my soule shall find it out ; With that his friend knit him within his armes , Striuing to hold him but when t was no boot , They hand in hand , thus plung'd into the maine . Strait they arose , and striu'd , me thought , for life , But swelling Neptune not regarding friends , Wrapt their embraced limbs in following waues . Vntill at last , their deare departing soules Hastned to Styx , and I no more cloud see . Stro. O , 't was Orestes , 't was my Pylades , Which arme in arme did follow him to death . Elect. O my Orestes , O my dearest brother 'T is he , 't is he that thus hath drown'd himselfe . Aegyst. Why , then if Agamemnon and his sonne Haue brought their leafe of life to the full end ; I am Thyestes sonne , and the next heyre , To sit in Argos Throne of Maiesty . Thanks to our Alpheus sea , who as' t' ad striu'd To gratifie Aegystheus , rais'd his force , And gathered all his waters to one place , They might be deepe inough to drowne Orestes : But come my Queene , let vs command a feast . To get a kingdome , who 'ld not thinke it good , To swim vnto it through a sea of blood .
ACT. III .
SCEN. I. Enter Tyndarus : Misander . Tynd. OVr daughter send for vs ? how fares she ? well ? She mournes I 'm sure for her husbands death . Mis. My Lord , shee tooke it sadly at the first : But time hath lessen'd it . Tynd. I , griefe soone ends That flowes in teares ; they still are womens friends : But how is 't rumord now in Argos , though , That Agamemnon dyde . Mys. Why , hee was old , And death thought best to seise on him at home , Tynd. 'T was a long home , hee got by comming home , Well , well , Misander , I like not the course , The peoples murmure makes my cheekes to blush . Mis. My gracious Lord , who trusts their idle murmure , Must neuer let the blush goe from his cheeke , They are like flagges growing on muddy banks , Whose weake thin heads blowne , with one blast of winde , They all will shake , and bend themselues one way : Great mindes must not esteeme what small tongues say . All things in state must euer haue this end , The vulgar should both suffer , and commend , If not for loue , for feare ; great maiesty Should doe those things the vulgar dare not see . Tynd. O , Sir , but those that doe commend for feare , Doe in their hearts a secret hatred beare . Euer learne this ; the truest praise indeed , Must from the heart , and not from words proceed . I feare some foule play : doth Aegystheus meane , Then totally for to inuest himselfe In Agamemnons seat ? Where 's young Orestes ? Mis. Why my Lord ? hee for the great griefe conceiu'd , Being young , not knowing well to rule himselfe With sway of reason , ranne vpon his death , And threw himselfe with my Lord Strophius sonne , Into the midst of Alpheus , so was drown'd . Tynd. How took my daughter that ? Mis. Why , wisely too , And like her selfe ; not being in despaire : Her royall wombe will bring forth many more , Shall be as deare as e'r Orestes was . Tynd. I feare heauen cannot looke with equall eyes Vpon so many deaths , but meanes to send Plague after plague ; for in a wretched state , One ill begets another dismall Fate : But goe and tell my daughter I will come , And helpe to solemnize her nuptiall night : Her hasty wedding , and the old Kings neglect , Makes my coniecturall soule some ill suspect . Exeunt .
SCEN. II. Enter Orestes , and Pylades . Orest. IF euer God lent any thing to earth , Whereby it seem'd to symphatize with heauen , It is this sacred friendship : Gordian knot Which Kings , nor Gods , nor Fortune can vndoe . O what Horoscopus , what constellation , Held in our birth so great an influence , Which one affection in two mindes vnites ? How hath my wo beene thine , my fatall ill Hath still beene parted , and one share beene thine ! Pyl. Why , dearest friend , suppose my case were thine , And I had lost a father , wouldst not thou In the like sort participate my griefe ? Orest. Yes , witnesse heauen I would . Pyl. So , now thou hast lost a father , Orest. True , Pylades , thou putst me well in mind , I haue lost a father , a deare , deare father , A King , a braue old King , a noble souldier , And yet he was murdered : O my forgetfull soule ; Why should not I now drawe my vengefull sword , And strait-way sheath it in the murderers heart ? Minos should neuer haue vacation , Whilst any of our progeny remain'd . Well , I will goe , and so massacre him , I 'll teach him how to murder an old man , A King , my Father , and so dastardly To kill him in his bed . Pyl. Alas , Orestes ! Griefe doth distract thee : who is t thou wilt kill ? Orest. Why , he , or she , or they that kill'd my father . Pyl. I , who are they ? Orest. Nay , I know not yet , But I will know . Pyl. Stay thy vengefull thoughts , And since thus long we haue estrang'd our selues From friends and parents , le ts thinke why it is , And why we had it noysed in the Court , We both were dead ; the cause was thy reuenge , That if by any secret priuate meanes , We might but learne who 't was , that drench'd their swords In thy deare fathers blood , wee then would rouze Blacke Nemesis in flames from out her caue , And shee should be the vmpire in this cause . Mans soule is like a boystrous working sea , Swelling in billowes for disdaine of wrongs , And tumbling vp and downe from day to day , Growes greater still in indignation , Turnes male content , in pleaselesse melancholly , Spending her humours in dull passion , still Locking her senses in vnclosed gins , Till by reuenge shee sets at liberty . Orest. O , now my thirsty soule expects full draughts Of Ate's boyling cup : O , how t wo'ld ease My heart , to see a channell of his blood , Streaming from hence to hell , that killd my father , Pyl. I , but deare friend , thou must not let rage loose , And like a furious Lyon , from whose denne The forrester hath stolne away his young , Hee missing it , strait runnes with open iawes On all he meets , and neuer hurting him That did the wrong ; wise men must mix reuenge With reason , which by prouidence will prompt , And tell vs where 's the marke , whereat we ayme . Till then in Cinders wee 'll rake vp our griefe , Fire thus kept , still liues , but opened dies , From smallest sparks great flames may one day rise . Orest. True , friend , but , O , who euer will reueale This hideous act ! what power shall wee inuoke ? Pyl. Yes , harken friend , I haue bethought a meanes ; Not distant farre from this place where we liue , There stands a caue hard by a hollow oake , In a low valley where no Sun appeares , No musique euer was there heard to sound ; But the harsh voyce of croking ominous rauens . And sad Nyctimine the bird of night , There 's now a shed vnder whose ancient roofe , There sometimes stood an Altar for the Gods , But now slow creeping time , with windy blasts Hath beaten downe that stately Temples walls , Defac't his rich built windows , and vntil'd His battlemented roofe , and made it now A habitation , nor for God , nor men : Yet an old woman , who doth seem to striue With the vast building for antiquity , In whose rough face time now hath made such holes , As in those vncouth stones she there hath made Her selfe a cell , wherein to spend her age ; Her name 's Canidia ; great in Magique spells , At whose dire voyce , the gods themselues would quake , To heare her charme the second time pronounc't . One that can know the secrets of Heauen , And in the ayre hath flying ministers , To bring her news from earth , from sea , from hell : Which , when thick night hath compas't in the world , Then doth she goe to dead mens graues and tombs , And sucks the poysonous marrow from their bones , Then makes her charme , which she nere spent in vaine , Nor doth she comes as suppliant to the Gods , But making Erebus , and Heauen to quake , She sends a spell drowning infernall thunder , By which all secrets that were euer don , In faire white parchment writ in lines of blood , Lockt in the inmost roome of hell it selfe Is brought vnto her : and by her we may Haue leaue to looke in Pluto's register , And read the names of those most loathed Furies , Which rent thy Fathers soule from out his truncke , But she must see thy Fathers dead bones first , Them we must bring her , for by them she works : This if thou dar'st assay , I 'll goe along . Orest. If I dare assay ? yes , yes , deare friend , Were it to burst my Fathers sepulchre , And wake his Manes , shew them Radamanth , Their iterated sight will burne my soule With such a sparkling flame of dire reuenge , As Nessus shirt did burn great Hercules , If that the scrowle which did containe their names , Were in a lake of flaming brimstone drencht , I 'd take it out , or fetch 't from Pluto's armes : But come ; If earth haue such a creature as can tell , T will saue a iourney for this once from hell .
SCEN. III . Enter Aegyst . Clytem . Tynd. Msiander Strophius , Electra , cum caet . with a crown . Aegyst ascends the throne , Miander crownes him : Clytem . great with child . Mys. ALL yeares of happy dayes , all houres of Ioy So circle in thy state , as doth this crown Wreath and combine thy princely temples in , All speak ! Ioue still protect Aegystheus . Aegyst. Thanks to my Fathers subiects : Now Argos swell vp to the brim with ioy , And streams of gladnes flow on Tyndarus , Now made our Father ; see old King , see here 's My Queene doth meane to make thee a grandfather , See how thy royall blood shall propagate , Whose Kingly drops like heauen distilling dew Shall adde fresh life vnto thy withered roote . Tyn. Yes , but Aegystheus , there were armes before Grew on this tree ; but the Fates enuious axe Hath cut them off before th 'ad time to sproute : Clyt. O Sir , the Fates needs must haue leaue to make Wayes for themselues to mannage what they doe : Had Agamemnon and Orestes liu'd , They could not then haue blest me with these gifts : Still when the heauens and Fates doe worke their will , They intend good , though sometimes there come ill . Tynd. O but pray Ioue the Fates now were not forc't , But deeds like words no man can e're recall , Bee 't good or ill ; once don , we must beare all . Aegyst. Come Father sit we downe , and make a feast , They set to the feast . To glad our hearts ; Heauen still doth for the best . Stroph. O let my latter age not liue to see Aegisteus weare great Argus diademe : Elect. Feare not good vncle , there wil be a time To pull him downe , although he yet doth climbe : Tynd. Who euer trusted much on fortunes gifts , On wife , on state , on health , on friends , on lands , May looke on Agamemnons comming home : Fortune me thinks ne're shew'd her power more , How quickly could she turn her Fatall sword Vpon his brest , that thought himselfe past harme , She that had vs'd death like an angry dogge , Holding him vp , when that he should haue bit , When al the game was past , and 's fury laid , The King being past all danger , safe at home , Then he slip's coller , neuer vntill then ; And fortune she stood hissing of him on , Till he had torne the good Kings soule away . Aegyst. Nay but good Father let passe elegies , Clyt. seems to weep You draw fresh tears now from your daughters eies , Who shed enough before at 's funerall , Let 's talke who are to liue , not who are dead ; And thinke what progeny shall spring from vs May beare your Image stampt vpon the face , This we must talke of now , not what griefs past But of the ioy to come : Aegyst. My Queen not well ? Now good Electra looke vnto your mother , Clyt. riseth from the table . Lucina be propitious to the birth ; Why , will not now a young Aegystheus be , As gratefull as an old Orestes was ? Thou times good lengthener , age , posterity , Spread thy selfe still vpon Aegistheus line , Helpe me to treasure vp antiquity , And from Thyestes loyns let spring an heire , Shall euer sit in great Thyestes chaire . Exeunt .
SCEN. IV. Enter Pylades & Orestes , with his arme full of a dead mans bones and a Scull . Pylad. Neare to this shady groue , where neuer light Appeares , but when 't is forced with som charm , Canidia dwells , in such a dusky place , That the night goblins feare to come too neare it , Here let vs knocke . Orest. Nay , Pylady , see here , O giue me leaue to descant on these bones : This was my Fathers scull ; but who can know Whether it were some subiects scull , or no : Where be these Princely eyes , commanding face , The braue Maiesticke looke , the Kingly grace , Wher 's the imperious frowne , the Godlike smile , The gracefull tongue , that spoke a souldiers stile ? Ha , ha , worms eate them : could no princely looke , No line of eloquence writ in this booke , Command , nor yet perswade the worms away ! Rebellious worms ! could a King beare no sway ? Iniurious worms ! what could no flesh serue , But Kings for you ? By heauen you all shall sterue : Had I but known 't ; what must my father make A feast for you ? O ye deuouring creatures ! Pyla. Now some Archilocus to helpe him make Vengefull Iambiques , that would make these worms To burst themselues ; Passion must please It selfe by words , griefe told it selfe doth ease . Orest. You cowardly bones , would you be thus vncloth'd By little crawling wormes ! by Ioue I neuer thought My Fathers bones could e're haue beene such cowards : O you vngratefull wormes how haue you vs'd him ; See their ingratitude : O ambitious creatures , How they still domineere , or'e a Kings carcasse , Pyla. How could they thinke Orestes , when thou cam'st to the crown That thou shouldst beare , that these should eate thy father , Orest. True ? Pylades , should not I rend their maws , Deuise some new tortures ? O most horrible treason , That worms should come vnto a great Kings face , And eate his eyes : why , I would vndertake But at one stampe to kill a thousand of 'em , And I will kill these : Stamps upon them . Goe you Kings-eating creatures : I will marre All your digestion . Pylad. Alas , where be his wits ? He stands declaming against senselesse worms , And turnes more senslesse then the worms themselues ; Wher 's now the oracle you should consult , The great Magician , now the Centaurs thought Shall be example to all future yeers , And now transcend Proserpina's inuention , Ha , hast thou found them out , ha , were they worms ? Orest .. O prethe laugh not at me me , call her , call her ; Pyl. knocks . Whilst I stand gathering vp my Fathers bones , His deare disiected bones ; O , I remember , here Ran the strong sinews , twixt his knitting ioynts , Here to this bone was ioyn'd his Princely arme , Here stood the hand that bare this warlike shield , And on this little ioynt was place't the head , That Atlas-like bare vp the weight of Greece , Here , here betwixt these hollow yawning iaws Stood once a tongue , which with one little word Could haue commanded thousand souls to death : Good hands indure this your weighty taske , And good eyes striue not to make moyst his bones With weeping teares : What sin 's our Procustes euer could Haue hackt a King into such things as these ; Alas her 's euery part now so deform'd , I know not which was his , yet all was his . Sound infernall Musique .
SCEN. V. Enter Canidia , like an Enchauntresse . Orest. PRotect vs O ye Ministers of Heauen , Stand neare me my good Genius , my soule hath lost His humane function , at this hellish sight . Can. Who is 't disturbs our caue , what messenger Hath Pluto sent , that would know ought from vs , What are you , speake , Canidia cannot stay . Pylad. Prompt vs some Ghost , Great feare of earth , and gouernesse of nature , In whose deepe closet of that sacred heart Are written the characters of future Fate ; And what is done , or what must be thou knowst : Whose words make burning Acheron grow cold , And Ioue leaue thundring , when he heares thy name , To thee we come : O turne thy secret booke , And looke whose names thou there shalt see inscrib'd For murderers , reade or'e all the catalogue , Vntill thou findest there , engrauen those Which kild the King of Greece , great Agamemnon . Orest. Yes , he that did owe these bones which worms haue eate ; It is not now one of the meaner sort That craues this boone , but 't is the heire of Greece , Heire onely now but to my Fathers graue ; I not command , but my astonisht soule Entreats to know . If in thy booke it be not yet put downe , Command the Gods to vnlocke the gates of Heauen ; And fetch forth death , command him to relate Who 't was put Agamemnon in his hands , This is our businesse , this , great prophetesse , Made vs approach to thy most hallowed cell . Can. Ho , ho , ho , I tell thee fond young Prince ! A lesser power thou mightst haue implor'd , Which might haue vrg'd th' vnwilling fiends to this : Our dire enchantments carry such a force , That when the stars , and influence of heauen , Haue suckt the liuely bloud from out mens veyns , I at my pleasure bring it backe againe ; I knew each houre in the Troian fight , What Grecian , or what Phrygian should die , And fierce Achilles had no sooner pierc't Great Hectors side , but fate did send me word : Earth , Sea , deepe Chaos , all the stony hills , Will ope themselues to shew me prodigies ; Night will vnmaske her brow , to let me see What blacke conceptions teeme within her wombe . Orest. O then relate great Mistresse of thy Art , The things we craue : Can. What time of night is 't ? Pyl. Vpon the stroke of twelue . Can. Straite when a cloudy Euen clappeth the Ayre , And all light 's drench't in misty Acheron , When the blacke palpherys of the full cheekt moone , Haue got behinde this part a' th Hemispheare , And darke Aldebor , and is mounted high Into the fable Cassiopeias chaire , And night ful mounted in her seat of iet , Sits wrapt within a cabinet of clouds , When serpents leaue to hisse , no dragons yell , No birds doe sing , no harsh tun'd toads doe croake , The Armenian Tyger , and the rauenous woolfe , Shall yeeld vp all their tyranny to sleepe , And then none walke but hells disturbed spirits , Children of night , such as belong to me , I 'll shew thee thy desire ; giue me these bones . Orest. Here , take them Mother , vse them gently , They were a Kings bones once ; O not so hard . Can. Why senslesse boy , dost thinke that I respect A Kings dead bones , more then an other mans ; O they smell rankly ; I , this sent doth please , Smels to them . But I must now to worke : why Sagana . Pylad. Looke here thou King of Greece , fond Menelaus , Thou which didst bring so many goodly shapes , Taks vp the scull . Into such things as these , and all for Helen , Which when the worms bred of her dainty flesh , Shall haue knaw'd off her tender rubie lips , And left her gumlesse , looke vpon her then ; And thou wouldst euen disgorge thy selfe to see , Such putride vermin to lye kissing her . Orest. This head had once a royall diademe , Now knock it , beate it , and 't will ne're cry treason . Can. Why Sagana . Orest. There was a player once vpon a stage , Who striuing to present a dreery passion , Brought out the vrne of his late buried sonne , It might the more affect him , and draw teares : But I , as if I had no passion left , Not acting of a part , but really In a true cause hauing my Fathers bones , His hollow scull , yet crawling full of worms , I cannot weepe , no not a teare will com . Can. Why Sagana , Veia , Erictho , know you not your time ?
SCEN. VI. Enter Sagana , Veia , Erictho , 3. witches . Sag. WHat would you Beldame ? Can. Hath not triform'd Hecate put on Her Styx-died mantle , is 't not now fit time To worke our charmes in ? Veia . We here are ready 'gainst thy sacred charme . Can. You two , sit by , and beare in minde this charge , Who e're you see , who euer I present ; Let your tongues be percullist in your iaws , Stir not , nor speake not , till the charme be done . Pyl. Feare not , it shall be chain'd with silence . Can. Night , and Diana sacred Queene , Which euer hast spectator beene Vnto our balefull hideous rights , Ne're acted but in darkest nights , Now in this fatall hers-bred houre , Shew to my rites thy greatest power . Erictho when my torch shall twinkle , Auernall water thou shalt sprinckle About the roome , now let vs kneele , Our heauy burthen Hell shall feele : Le ts all coyn words , now we may see Who 't was did worke this prodigie . Omnes . Pluto , great Pluto , we command , Thou send vnto vs out of hand , The shapes of those that kild the King , Great Agamemnon . Infernall Musique . Enter in a dumbe shew Aegystheus , and Clytem . with their bloody daggers , looke vpon the bed , goe to it , and stab , and then make a shew of gladnes and depart . Or. O 't is aboue my bearing , were I linkt here with chains , I would like Cerberus draw Alcides backe : Stay , stay , by heauens , reuenge shall make you Nay , I will follow you , should they take their caue , Where Aetna vomits fire , I would in : My mother , Clytemnestra , Aegystheus , was it they ? Nay , I will o'rtake them . Can. O sonne , remember what I told you sonne , Many a rockie hill and stony mount , Many a sea , and vast Charybdis gulfe , Stands betwixt them and thee , though they seeme neere . Ore . O piety ! O most prodigious nature ! What creatures hast thou made to liue on earth ? How hast thou cloath'd blacke darknesse with a scarfe Of vnstain'd purity , and put a godly face Vpon portentuous diuells ? Oh , how my mother wept ! How Clitemnestra ! how that Hiena wept ! No more my mother , I abiure the name , She did not bring me forth , I know she did not : But I 'll o'rtake 'em ; shew mee Canidia where , Which way they went , where haue they hid themselues . Should they mount vp to the chariot of the Sunne , And in his Carre fly to the Antipodes , Or in the farthest nooke of yonder spheare : Get vp and place themselues betwixt Taurus hornes , The fire-breathing bull , nor Lerna's Hydra , Were there no entrance but ten Lyons iawes , I 'd runne through all , and make my way my selfe : I 'd fix them to the Axell tree of heauen , Where their infectious Carcasses shauld hang , A bait for flying spirits in the Ayre . Canidia , I thanke thee for thy paines ; Still may thy sacred Act reueale such deeds , Still keepe the gates of Orcus yawning ope , Make the darke powers ready at command . Pyl. But let vs haste deare friend , this vast worlds roome Allowes vs none , but thy dead fathers Tombe : Here 's naught but ayres of death , no bed but stones Our pillow 's a dead scull , companions bones , Thi 's all our comfort , if wee needs must die , We haue a graue prepar'd wherein to lie . Orest. Now pale Tisiphone , O for thy Snakes ! O that renonw'ned spirit , that more then man , Whom all the Troian host could not o'rwhelme , Murdred ; but what braue warrier wore a crown , By guilding a dire sword in his deare blood ? Hector , nor Priam , no , nor Mars himselfe , Onely his wife was his Bellona now . O miserable valour , to scape foes , And come for to be murdred of his friends : O shamefull conquest ! O most coward Fate , That a weake woman was competitor In Agamemnons death : had it beene any , yet It should haue beene a Goddesse at the least , And yet she 's but a Queene , a mortall woman . Were she a Goddesse , I would make he mortall ; Dull coward that I am , and , worse then all , After so many wrongs , yet vnreueng'd , Their Palace now should fire o'r their heads , And the huge beams dash out their guilty brains : The roofe , should fall on me , so 't fell on them . Begin reuenge , and now performe an act , May giue a theame to all posterity , Euer to talke of , fraught so full of horrour , Aegystheus and my mother , may with their's , Yet none was euer greater , yes , my deed . Reuenge is lost , vnlesse we doe exceed . Pyl. But a bad mother , friend , thou shouldst not hurt , The law of nature doth forbid such thoughts . Orest. Nor Gods , nor nature shall keepe mee in awe , Why towards my mother , by heauens Parliament , Who is most guilty , is most innocent . Can. Shall I thus by some magique Art , my sonne , Take both their pictures in pure virgin waxe ? And wound the place where that the hurt should stand , And so wound them ? Orest. Tush , this is too little . Can. Shall I breed them hate ? Orest. Too little too . Can. Shall I consume their children ? Ore . All this too little . Hell and the furies shall stand all amaz'd , Alecto shall come there for to behold New kinds of murthers which she knew not yet : And nature learne to violate her selfe , I 'll instantly to th' Court , and what I doe , My selfe will see done , yes , and act it too . Thanks great Canidia , this blacke night being done , Reuenge now knowes her game whereat to runne . Exeunt omnes .
ACT. IIII .
SCEN. I. Enter in state , Aegystheus : Clytemnestra : Tyndarus : Strophius : Electra : Nutrix : cum nouo partu : Aegyst. NEuer but when a royall off-spring comes From a Kings loynes , can hee be truly King , Then doth he sit firme , rooted in his state , Then is he truly man , and then the Gods He knowes doe loue him , which when Kings doe want , The curse of nature doth deny them fruit , And brands their bed with loath'd sterility . Tynd. Aegystheus , since the Gods haue bless'd you so , Haue care their blessings turne not to your woe . Your ioy , my daughters ioy , and my ioy too , Haue care it be preseru'd , and brought vp well : And take heed , sonne , of Agamemnons blood , Pierce not with enuy the Babes tender heart . Aegyst. Tush father , now not without griefe I speake All brookes which from the Princely Ocean ranne , Are quite dry'd vp , onely Electra here , Our deare Electra , whose great weight of loue Is in our ballance equally so poys'd , That shee shall euer thinke her father liues , Our heart shall be so parallell with hers . El. Yes , great Aegystheus , wer 't but our mothers will , What she thinkes good of , I must not thinke ill : Besides , your loue e'r since my fathers death , As if it ame from his departing soule , And forth-with had reuiu'd againe in you , Hath held a prospectiu for me , to see His care oubled , though the obiect 's chang'd , And , for I a brother , if you please , That I may challenge in your royall blood , Here doe I tie with all affections bands , My selfe vnto this Babe , which is as deare Vnto my soule , as were Orestes here . Clyt. Daughter , your heart now with obedience strung , Makes a sweet musique sounding from your tongue . Nurse , bring the Babe , giue it Electra , so , You daughter shall haue ouersight of it . Nutr. O , shall I part from 't then ? Clyt. No , good Nurse , no , Electra with her care , you with your paines . Nutr. Now by Lucina , had it gone away , I should haue sit , and sob'd away my heart ; 'T is the sweetest Babe that euer Nurse did kisse . Aegyst. Looke here good father , looke my nobles here , Vpon this Babe scarce crept yet out of earth , For you shall grow an Autumn of ripe yeeres , When time hath brought it to maturity , Looke on thy Grandchilde , Tyndarus , see , 't is thine , This came from thee , old man , see how it smiles Vpon the Grandsire , as if wise nature had Taught him his kindreds names fore he came forth . Tynd. I see 't Aegystheus , and my ag'd blood grows warme , As if my selfe were a new father made , And all the blessings I can render it , Shal drop like golden showers on the head : Me thinks it doth recall my sliding age , And makes swift time retire backe againe : It doth vnfold those wrincles in my face , Which griefe and yeeres had fixed as their signes Vpon my brow , and now it shall be seene , Althoug my hayres are gray , my ioyes are greene . Clyt. Long may our father his opinion hold , And you , our daughter , let not sinister thoughts Wrong your suspicious minde , though this being young , It makes our Lord , and me to speake our ioyes , Yet our affection and our naturall loue , Is not a whit to you diminished . A mother can be mother vnto many , And as from one roote hid within the ground , Springs many flowers , that lends sap to all : So from a parents heart runne veines of loue ; Which , though to many , they without doe flow , Yet from one heart , one root , they all doe grow . Elect. I hope our gracious mother cannot thinke We doe suspect her loue , witnesse this charge , Which you haue bless'd my armes and soule withall , And as your loue committed it with care , My care shall still defend it with my loue . Aegyst. We thanke our daughter , come Lord Strophius , come , Griefe still sits heauy on your sighing heart , Be frolike , learne of vs , in all the grace , And pleasure our Court extends , you shall haue place . Stroph. I thanke my gracious Lord , time hath by this , Almost eate out the memory of our sonne , And since the heauens let fall their dew on you , And watred Argos with such springing hopes , I will not seeme a stocke , vncapable Of such a generall comfort , but reuiue My buried thoughts , and for my Souerignes sake , Old Strophius will a young mans person take . Aegyst. We thanke old Strophius , and if honour can Keepe thee still young , our Princely hand is wide , And freely shall extend all graces on thee , And you all our subiects , which beare part Thus in our ioy ; and here I doe proclaime , And personally from my owne mouth pronounce , Sealing it with the signet of my State , A generall immunity to all Murders , rapes , treasons , thefts , conueyances , Which haue beene from the birth of our deare childe , In all the confines of our Empire done ; Nor shall your licence date be quite expired , Till the slow yeere seuen times runnes out his course . Our selfe thus speake it ; vntill then all 's free , Kings win their subiects by immunity . Exeunt omnes . Manet Strophius , & Electra . Stroph. Electra , you are happy in your charge . Electr. Yes , Vncle , and you happy in my fauour . Nur. Madam , shal I stay here vntil you come ? comes back . Electr, Yes , Nurse , sit downe and sing , looke to the Babe , I 'll onely with my Vncle change a word . Nurse sings . Lullaby , lullaby Baby , Great Argos ioy , The King of Greece thou art borne to be , In despight of Troy . Rest euer wait vpon thy head , Sleepe close thine eyes , The blessed guard tend on thy bed Of Deities . O , how this brow will beseeme a crowne ! How these lockes will shine ! Like the raies of the Sun on the ground , These lockes of thine . The Nurse of heauen still send thee milk , Maist thou suck a Queene . Thy drinke Ioues Nectar and cloaths of silke , A God mayst thou seeme . Cupid sit on this Rosean cheeke , On these rubie lips May thy minde like a Lambe be meeke , In the vales which trips , Lullaby , Lullaby Baby , &c. Elect. You neuer heard from my brother , Vncle , Nor from your sonne , they haue beene long away ? Stroph. In troth , Electra , I am in despaire , Almost of euer seeing them againe ; Sure if Orestes liue , and euer heare , Vnto what passe Aegystheus brings his state , Seated him in the throne of his mothers bed , And like to leaue Argos hereditary To his posterity , it cannot e'r be borne , Orestes spirit will endure no scorne . Elect. Vncle , his long delayes make mee surmise , Or he will neuer come , or come with prize ; Hee , if now come , hee must not shew himselfe , But liue vnknowne , vnnam'd , or change his name . Str. His name , Electra , yes , and 's nature too , Which I doe feare me hee will hardly doe . But if we hear not from them now e're long , I 'll listen by some meanes about the land , To heare of them ; meane time you to your charge , Officious duty must our liues enlarge . Elect. Come Nurse . Exeunt .
SCEN. II. Enter Orestes , and Pylades . Orest. O , here 's the Palace vnder whose kinde roofe My tender yeeres were gently fostered : But now the sight on 't seemes to strike my soule , When I but thinke it holds within the walls , The patrons of such lust incarnate diuells , Mere Pythonists , that fascinate the world . Pyl. Nay , but Orestes , thinke now of your selfe , Complaine not of your wrongs , but seeke to right them . We might haue liu'd i' th woods still to complaine , And to that purpose wee may turne againe . Whet vp your former thoughts , and spend not time , To raue , but to reuenge this odious act . We know they were their shapes , and no Chymera's . Orest. O , Pylades , knew I thou art my friend ? Pyl. I hope you thinke it . Orest. I doe , I dare sweare it , So I dare sweare it was Aegystheus , and The dumbe witch , the O , what things enough To be an attribute to terme her by . The Clytemnestra , O , wee saw her do 't . Pyl. 'T was a blacke deede indeede , and past all thought . Orest. O , hell it selfe has not the patterne to 't : Some stench , some fogs , vapours stop their breath , Exhald from out the dampish wombe of Styx , Did euer foule , disastrous , friendlike hands , Cast vp so huge a heape of hell-bred mischiefe . Were I to diue to 'th depth of Phlageton , Or fetch young Ganimed from the armes of Ioue , To rend Proserpina from Pluto's bed , Or take the vulture from off Titius heart , And set it on my mothers , I 'd do 't ; I 'll breake ope doores , and nayle 'em to their bed ; Harka , reuenge calls mee , I , I come , I come , Pyl. Nay , still outragious friend , good now containe Your heady fury in wisedomes reyne : Harken to my aduice . Orest. I will , deare friend , Thou hast plaid musique to my dolefull soule ; And when my heart was tympaniz'd with griefe , Thou lauedst out some into thy heart from mine , And kepst it so from bursting ; thou hast tide With thy kinde counsell , as these loosned strings , They should not cracke asunder with their weight . Pyl. Then listen now , the best plot I can thinke , Is this : wee here will liue a while vnknowne : Orestes , thy profession shall be physicke , I as your friend t' company you at Court ; Carry it neatly , learne a few strange words , Palliate your woe a while , and coope vp griefe , You may in time so minister to the King , Physiques occasion fit reuenge may bring . Orest. Rarely inuented , I 'll speake Amphorismes , Sublim'd purgations , Quintessence distill'd . Each dose I giue shall make a heart to bleed , And proue a true Physician so indeed . Enter Misander , hauing o'r-heard their talke . Mis. 'T was my good Genius guided me here now , To heare conspiracie ; wherefore I 'll attach them . Saue you Gentlemen . Ore . Saue you too , if you please . Pyl. Sir , 't was small manners to interrupt our talke , And giue no warning of your being neere . Mis. Warning ? you shall haue warning , yes , I know I heard you both , and vnderstood your plot , You 'll turne Physician , Sir , and giue rare glisters , Shall worke like Stibium , to purge out hearts , You thought to act well true Physicians parts . Ore . Therefore on thee our medicine first shall worke . Mis. Help , murder . Ore . Nay Parasite I 'll gag you , Stabs him . You shall not fawne againe , or wag your tayle , When the King nods . Mis. O help me , I am slaine . Stop his breath quickly , if but he be dead , We may escape the danger of the treason , Nay he is silent ; O but we are beset .
SCEN. III . Enter a Lord and others at the out-cry . Lor. LOoke out , me thought I heard one cry out murder , Some voyce I am sure did disturbe the court , It was Misanders voyce me thought that cried , Spies him dead . And see hee 's slaine ; one whom the Kings esteeme Did ranke among the best ; there are the murderers , Fellowes , how durst you thus abuse the court ? Goe , haste to 'th Kings tell him the men be here . Pylad. Gentlemen , we as louers to the court , Came here as strangers , for to see the King , This man being comming out , too soone for vs ; And for himselfe vs'd vs vnciuilly , We haue been gentlemen , though our Fortunes now Haue put on beggars weeds vpon our backs : Who answering in the same sort he propos'd , He strooke vs , and men cannot indure blows : So thinking much to be strooke againe , He grew so hot , he drew and made a Stab ; At which encounter both inclosing him 'Twixt vs , he tooke a wound worse then we thought To giue , for we did thinke to haue giuen none ; But since 't is thus , we must appeale to th' King . Lor. Yes ; and here comes his Maiesty in person ,
SCEN. IV. Enter Aegystous , with a guard . Aegy A Guard there on vs , here is murder don , What is Misander kild our trusty seruant ? Where are the villaines ? Orest. O hold good heart , harke , harke , he cals vs villaines ! Aegyst What is the matter , speake , how came he dead ? They shall die two deaths , that did cause him one . Orest. O I am now vndon ; he must sit iudge , To condemne vs that should massacre him . Pyl. Nay keepe a temper , hold good friend a while . Lord . My gracious Soueraigne , these two be the men , Which haue confess'd the deed : AEgyst. Are you the men which thus abus'd our state , Was 't one or both , if both , you both shall die , If one , that one , we are iust in our decree .
SCEN. V. Enter Clyt. Tynd. Strophius . Electra . WHat , is my Queene come here , to heare the cause , ? Wee 'll then ascend , and iudge them instantly Ascends the throne Or. O crack my eye-strings , let these balls drop out Or the quick sights like darts fly to their souls , And pierce their entralls ; he King , my mother Queen ! The Briseis and Achilles , that in my dreame , We come to be condemnd amongst our friends , I will to speake to them , Electra's there , And Strophius your old father , Pylades . Pyl. Shew thy selfe valerous , o'recome thy selfe , If we be known , we surely are condemn'd . Aegyst. Father , Lord Strophius sit and heare the cause . Clyt. Why , my Lord , what is 't makes the busines thus ? Aegyst. My queene shall strait way know , bring them away , Although it is not fallen out of our minde , Of a free act or pardon of all faults , Committed in the date of such a time , Our hand of mercy must not be so soft , To couer or'e with gentle lenity , Such vlcerous sores as these ; there is no place For mercy left ; murder must not find grace : Therefore our doome is past , one needs must die , Blood still for blood vnto the gods will cry . Orest Then , if thy doome be spent , great King here stands ; The man that did it , shewing his guilty hands . Pylad. O hold thy doome a while , it was not he , His serious studies in the learned Arts . Hearing acute Philosophers dispute 'twixt life and death , and of a future state Would faine haste to it ; but the man was I , Beleeue not him , 't was his desire to die . Orest. No King , 't is he which in his desperate thoughts , Would loose the bands betwixt his soule and him , Ones selfe against ones selfe is witnes store , My selfe confesses , what wouldst thou haue more . kneels , Pyl. Beleeue him not , vpon my knees I vow , These hands are only branded with the guilt , And for ones blood , let not two liues be spilt . Orest. And on my knees I the like oath doe take , I gaue the stab , my dagger 's bloody yet . Pylad. That was my dagger King , he took 't from me , Or. He do's me wrong , by heauen 't was euer mine . Aegyst. This doth amaze vs , I ne're yet saw two Turns Rhetoricians so to plead for death . Would not the pardon of this odious fact , Like a foule stench , or an vnwholesome ayre , Send an infectious vapour through the land , And choake vp Iustice ; this fidelity Should for this one time set two murderers free . Cly. Now good my loue , me thinkes I pitty them , And prethee for my sake , I know them not , Abate thy edge of Iustice for this once . Orest. O what she spoke , to dambe , it had been better . Aegyst. My loue , thou knowst I neuer looke too sterne , Vpon a fault that could aske lenity . But this is so transcendant , and so great , It must not be slipt without impunity , To doe a haynous murder , and i' th court , I' th place of Iustice , where the King might heare , Vpon a chiefe attendant of the Kings , Murder it selfe is past all expiation , The greatest crime that Nature doth abhorre , Not being , is abominable to her , And when we be , make others not to be , 'T is worse then bestiall , and we did not so , When onely we by natures ayd did liue , A Heterogenious kinde , as semibeasts , When reason challeng'd scarce a part in vs , But now doth manhood and ciuility Stand at the bar of iustice , and there plead , How much the 'r wronged , and how much defac't When man doth die his hands in blood of man , Iudgement it selfe would scarce a law enact Against the murderer , thinking it a fact , That man 'gainst man would neuer dare commit , Since the worst things of nature doe not it . Orest. O how his words now raile against a sinne , Which beat vpon his conscious thoughts within . His tongue speakes faire , his inparts , looke on them , And they like Iury-men himselfe condemne : Pyl. But O great King , if iustice must haue right , Let me stand only guilty in thy sight . Orest. No 't is not King , 't was I that did the deed , And for my action , let no other bleed . Aegyst. In troth this make my doome it cannot fall : Will none of you confesse ? Strophius weeps . Orest. Yes , I confesse . Pylad. No King , 't is I confesse . Aegyst. How now Lord Strophius , what affect you so , That makes your teares be wrayers of some passion . Stroph. My gracious soueraigns , this strange spectacle Renues the memory of my once great losse , And my deare Queens , we once were blest with two , Which so had link'd themselues in bands of Loue , As these men now doe seeme to me they haue . One streame of loue did in two hearts so glide , One with the other liu'd , with other dide . And would my Queene be my competitor , For our sons sake my suits should ioyne with her , Since Iustice craues but one , and both will goe , Euen saue them both , and right wrong iustice so . Clytem. I , good my loue , let iustice come and looke , If she can finde in all her statute booke , Two men for the same crime should rightly die ; She will not say so , iustice cannot lie . And since they both will die , let ones loue saue The others life , and so both life shall haue . Agam. In troth my Queen , and my old Lord haue mou'd Well , since your loues are both so strongly tide , And friendship like an old acquaintance sends To her friend , Iustice , that she should be milde , And looks with eyes of mercy , on your fault , Considering our immunity proclaim'd , And such petitioners as you both haue got , Death in our sentence now shall haue no part , Whilst who should haue done worst confession striues , Too much confession thus saues two mens liues : But now we must demand what you made here , What busines or condition you professe . Pylad. Great King , our duty owes to thee our liues , And were we men that striu'd to set a cloud Before these gifts , Art hath instructed vs : Or we haue purchac't at a most deare rate , Of cost and labour , yet thy clemency Commands vs to lay open all to thee , Yet for my selfe I rather count my state , Blest that I lighted on this happy man , Whose accurate and watchfull indagation , Hath taught him for to heale the wounds of Nature , By his exceeding skill in wholesome hearbs , One that when I did thinke my thred of life Had beene quite cut , did tie it vp againe , And make it last : recald my youthfull dayes , And made me Aeson-like becom thus yong , For which great practises I did owe my life , And thence proceeded our late pious strife . Aeg. Nay then I 'me glad our mercy did extend On men whom such rare vertues doe commend ; Or loue shall then grow greater , and our court Shall entertaine you , and 't may chance we will , My queene and I make triall of your skill . Orest. My gracious soueraigne , words must not haue wings To passe and out-flye the bounds of truth , Onely to win the Elixar of opinion ; But for my friend doth here professe so much , And for my life doe stand so deeply bound , That all my Art can ne're make recompence , Please but your graces selfe and your deare queen , Appoint the secrets of the safest roome , To let me shew my selfe to none but you ; Though Nature dried vp with too much time , Deny to spring in fruite from forth your loynes , Or any other strange impediment , Or Art preserues from sicknesse ruining , And 't will be blest to shew it to a King . Aegyst. Ha , prethee let me speake with thee apart . Thou strik'st on tunes now , make me glad to heare , We will commit our secresie to thee , Cans't water barren wombs with such a dew , Shall make 'em florish and wax green with fruit ? Although we cannot altogether blame , That Nature hath been too vnkind to vs , Yet we would plant each corner of our Realme , With springing branches of our royall selfe , To compasse in our selues , and we stand in the midst : Kings in their children doe great blessing finde , And great men loue to propagate their kind . Orest. Great Soueraigne , boasting words shall ne're outweigh The things I will performe , I speake not fame , But what I first haue said , I 'll doe the same . Aegyst. We like thy temper well , and we will trust , Therefore this night we will appoint it so , Thou shalt be guided to our secretst roome , And there shalt vse thy skill ; which if it take , Or loue shall honour thee for Physicks sake . Exeunt Aegyst . Clyt. Tind . Orest. Good heauens I thanke you , your effectuall power Hath shewed your iustice in this blessed houre , They take Str. and Elect. back . Now is occasion put , thus murder layes The trap wherein it selfe , it selfe betrayes . Pyl. Old Lord a word with you , Orest. and with you Lady . Pyl. Had not you once a Son lou'd the young Prince ? Stop . Yes Sir , but Fates enuied my happines , And holds both Prince and Son away too long . Orest. And had not you a brother Lady once ? When heard you of him last ? he went trauell . Elect. In truth I had , but I can heare no news . They discouer themselues , Stro. O see my son , welcome my dearest boy . Elect. Our brother , our Orestes is come home . Stroph. 'T is they indeed , O how my blood reuiues , Let me embrace them , O ye 'r welcome home , Now is the Autumne of our sorrow done . Elect. What silent place hath smothered you so long ! Of what great power haue you counsaile ta'ne , Concerning the great plot you had in hand . Orest. Vncle , and sister , we must not stand now Embracing much , and bidding welcome home , You see before I come , how things doe stand ; My busines hastens , and my friend , and I , Haue yet a greater proiect to performe : Onely Electra we must haue your ayde , To helpe with their child , for now 's the time , When blest occasion striues to helpe reuenge . Elect. Why brother , is the child in any fault , That was vnborne when that our Father dide ? And 't is a lusty boy : O hurt not that . Orest. Tush , I must haue it , it shall haue no hurt , Worse then my Father : Elect. Shal't not , indeed . Orest. Beleeue me , no worse hurt ; but let 's be gone . I 'll be tripode Paracelsian . Exeunt .
SCEN. VI. Enter a Chamberlaine , and a boy to sweep the roome . Cham. BOy , sweepe the roome , set each thing in his place , The King and queen take Physicke here to night . Boy . Sir , and you 'll helpe me , I am ready here , They set a table . Cham. Fetch them two chaires boy . Boy . Yes , Sir , What carpet meane you shall be spread a' th boord . Cham. That of red veluet , set the siluer cups , There may be vse of them to take the potion : Sets two bowls So , now all 's well , the roome is well prepar'd . Enter Orestes like a Doctor of Physicke . Orst. Is this the roome , friend , where the King must be ? Cham. Yes , this is the roome Sir , 't is the priuat'st , this . Orest. You must auoyd it then , and tell his Grace , That I stay here prouided gainst he come . Cham. His grace shall know it . Exit .
SCEN. VII. Enter Pylad. with a little boy in 's hand . Pyl. I Faith Orestes prethee spare the child , It hath no fault , but 't is too like the mother . Orest. Like my mother , O most execrable Hadst rank'd the confus'd Chaos of all sins , Thou couldst not haue found out a fault more blacke , More stincking , more infectious to my heart , Art like my mother , O transcendent crime ! Child . Some say I 'me eyde like her , but in the face I doe resemble most the King my father . Pyl. Poore babe . Orest. The King thy father , yes , too like them both , Ghil. Electra saies I 'me somewhat like Orestes , Her brother that is dead . Orest. How , like Orestes ! when didst see him child . Child . Indeed I neuer saw him , but I loue him . Pylad. Alas , deare friend , see the pretty knaue . Orest. Would thou wert not my mothers , I could weepe , But see , O see now my relenting heart , Must now grow flinty , see my Father , see , Now to shew pitty were Impiety . Enter Agamemnons ghost passing or'e the stage all wounded . Ghost . Why flaggs reuenge ? see thy now yeelding soule , Made me burst ope my strong iawd sepulcher , And rip the seare-cloth from my wounded breast , O can a child smile blanke the memory , Of all these horrid wounds , which make me grone , In the darke cauerns of the vncoucht earth , From whence I come for to infect thy soule With ayre of vengeance , may make Acheron , Yea , and our selues at the performance quake ; Fruite of our loines , first vigor of our youth , Looke on these wounds , as on the Gorgons head , And turne thy heart to stone , houering reuenge Is falne into thy hands , O graspe her close By her snake knotted front , and make her doe Things may incite a horror to her selfe . Forget all , mother , in that disloyall witch , Whose damned heate raging in strumpets blood , So soone did condiscend to murder mee . By all the rites of Father , I coniure thee : By Atreus , Atreus , he whose reuengefull soule Is eccho'd through the world superlatiue ; Doe thou make Nemesis as great a feast , And be enthroniz'd in her firie chaire , In her triumphant chariot euer ride , In which , Beares hurry her from the wombe of hell , And beare this Title as thy deserued hire , The braue reuenger of thy murdred sire . Thinke on me , and reuenge . Exit . Orest. Stay , stay , and see 't , Stay Spright , thou strik'st no terror to my soule For vnamaz'd I now would dare out-looke Ranks of Medusa's , and the grim aspect Of the most frowning obiect hell affoords : Thinke on me , and reuenge : yes , those two words Shall serue as burthen vnto all my acts , I will reuenge , and then I 'll thinke on thee : I 'll thinke on thee , and then againe reuenge , And stab , and wound , and still I 'll thinke on thee . I haue a dropsie now to sucke vp fumes , And drinke the reaking streames of vengeance some : Great Agamemnons Ghost , I will bedew , Thy hearse with blood in steed of brinish teares , And build a pile vp of their murthred truncks , To burne thy marrow lesse consumed bones . Arrowes of forked lightning neuer flew , More swiftly from the awfull armes of Ioue , Then Nemesis blacke Scorpions from mee . Pyl. 'T was a strange fight . Ore . I , didst thou see 't , friend ? All of those wounds will I sticke in his brest . Pyl. Alas , one will be enough for him ! Or. I , but she shal haue more , a while go by : Pyl. takes the child aside . Were all the world their liues , the world should die . Now Tragedy fetch out thy crimson robes , And buckle sure thy purple buskins on , Steep 't ten graines deeper in their scarlet die ; This night shall giue mee now a deepe carouse , Of Clytemnestra's and Aegystheus blood , And Cerberus himselfe stand by to pledge me , Whilest to hells fire I shall sacrifice Three Hecatombs ; it doth the furies good , When e'r wee wet the Altars with such blood . And now yee fiends of hell , each take a place , As 't were spectators at a first daies play , Raise all the hellish winds to expell nature ; Great Goddesse giue me leaue now to forget All straines of duty ; all obedient thoughts Die in mee quite : a mothers memory , Pious affections take no hold on mee . Be all my senses circled in with Fiends , And let Erynnis hold her flaming brand To guide my murderous sword ; for all lights else , Vanish from out this Center , be this roome fraught So full of mischiefe , may make the Fabricke cracke , And let no time , now come into my thoughts , But that dire night wherein my father di'd . I 'le onely be a Doctor now in word , Each potion that I giue shall be my sword : But I must change .
SCEN. VIII. Enter Aegystheus and Clytemnestra , in their night-robes . Aegyst. O Doctor , you are busie for our comming : Ore . looking on the cups . Orest. My gracious Lord , I had no cause to faile . Cly. Nay , but is this fit time for physick Doctor ? Orest. First , Madame , for the physicke that I giue , Now the diastall fabrique of your pulse . Shewes all your passions most hystericall , Pleaseth your grace sit down ? one at each end o' th Table . Aegyst. Yes , must wee sit , sit there my Queene . Orest. Yes , now is Saturne , gouernour of nature , In free coniunction with the planet Venus : And iust at this time , Iupiter begat Great Hercules , Sol , Luna , Mercury , In that Diameter , now fauour propagation , And now will my Alexipharmacum , Stirre the Analeptique veynes and arteries : If you out-liue this night , you 'll liue to see A royall , strange , and Princely progeny . Aegyst. Think'st thou so Doctor ? Orest. Thinke it , nay , I know 't : Hem . Clyt. Surely hee meanes to worke rare Art vpon vs . Egy. Pray God thy physique take . Ore . Yes , it shall take . Hem . Pylades binds Clytemnestra to the chaire : Orestes , Aegystheus : Pylades brings in the child . Aeg. Treason , we are betraid . Orest. Nay , t is your priuat'st room , View me well mother , ha , do you know me yet ? Here , here 's the drugs my Art hath thought vpon , Puts off his gowne . Be pittilesse now Pylades , be my friend . Child . O Helpe me father , else these men will kill mee . Aegyst. O my boy , my boy . Orest. O , yee 'r fast bound , Yes , hee is thine , thy face , thy eyes , thy heart , And would I knew where Nature had couchd most , Of thy damnd blood , I thus would let it out , Stabs the child . And thus 't should spirt in thy most loathed face Aegy. O , now , the heauens raine vengeance on our head Child . O mother , mother , saue , me saue me father . Orest. Hold Pylades , be stedfast , for by heauen He wounds mee , that perswades me not to wound . Clyt. O turne thy bloody weapon on my brest , 'T was this wombe that brought forth this Babe and thee If that be guilty , I haue made it so . Rip vp this place which first did bring thee forth , 'T is I' intreat thee , 't is the mother , she Which gaue thee house-roome here within this brest , Vpon whose dugs thy infant lips did hang . Orest. It was my father , he intreated you , Who many a time had clipt you in his armes , Who made you Queene of Greece , yes , it was hee , Good Agamemnon , he did plead for life . Aegyst. Bathe not thy hands in a poore infants blood , Nor in thy mothers , I deserue to die : And yet remember how my doome sau'd thee , How easily mercy did obtaine her suit . Orest. Nay , but Aegystheus , you can aggrauate , To doe a haynous murther , and i' th Court ; I' th place of Iustice , where the King might heare , Vpon a chiefe attendant of the Kings . Murther it selfe is past all expiation , A crime that nature most of all abhorres , And looke how manhood and ciuility , Stand at the barre of Iustice , and there plead , How much they 'r wrong'd , and how much defac'd , When man doth dye his hands in blood of man . Now harken King , I 'll vse thy Rhetorique , Thou didst a haynous murther in the Court , Not which the King did heare , but which he felt ; When no petition could ( good man ) preuaile , Therefore this dies , this first shall haue his due . Stabs it againe , that the blood spirts in his face . Turnes it to her . This mischiefe done , reuenge shall prompt a new : Aeg. O , the Gods blush , and heauen looks pale at this , A fathers face besmear'd with his owne blood . Ore . My haste deceiues my wil ; tush , al this yet , May be call'd piety , you shall taste too mother . Cly. O , why dos't banish nature from his place ? Looke on thy mothers teares worse then those grones , And pangs she had , when she first brought thee forth , When of thy friends or parents thou hast wrong , Patience , not fury doth to thee belong . Is this the blessing that thy knee should aske ? Repay'st thou thus my kisses and my teares , Which flow'd from mee to thee in tender yeeres . Orest. O why did you so banish woman-hood , When you and this damn'd villaine , base adulterer , Made in my fathers side so many wounds , And brought a braue old King into this state : Pulls bones from his pocket . See , here 's his bones , my pocket can containe Great Agamemnon ; and repayd you thus His kind embraces ? all his louing signes ? Aegysteus , you are thirsty , you shall drinke , Fills two cups with the Heniochus childs blood : giues it them . Yes , you shal cleare your throat , by heauen you shal . Aeg. O mischief aboue mischief ! what Bred on a stony rock , could e'r endure To see a fathers thirst quench'd with such blood ? Hast thou no measure ? hath reuenge no end ? Ore . Who first doth mischiefe , may keep mean i' th deed , But who reuengeth , must all meane exceed . Nay , mother , wee 'll not barre you of your draught . Clyt. O Nature , see here all thy lawe infring'd A mothers prayers preuaile not with her sonne . Orest. Pray with Thyestes , it shall neuer moue me : But first , Aegystheus , do thou haste reuenge . Stabs him . Aegyst. O , I am wounded , O when do'st thou end ? Or. Nay , I haue scarce begun , now mother , you , Stabs her . So now I 'll stand and looke , and on hell call , Nay , my reuenge must not be vsuall ; One more for thee . Aegystheus ; onely let out , The blood you dranke before . Aegyst. O , my heart feeles it , Orest. Now mother you , and your loue the same . Clyt. O kill me quickly , time prolongs my woe , And since I must die , let me quickly goe . Orest. You know your sentence , let him feele hee dies . Who strait threats death , knowes not to tyrannize . Aegy. This brings ten deaths . Or. Would 't would a hundred bring , One death 's too little to reuenge a King . Hence , hence , adulterous soule to Tantalus , And let hell know who 't was sent thee thither : He dies . Now , mother , you shall follow , but he first , Lest that like louers you goe hand in hand . Clyt. Why sonne , whose death is it thou dost reuenge ? Thy fathers ? but on whom ? vpon thy mother ! On her which brought thee forth , which took most care , To bring thee vp , from whom thou tookst thy selfe , Thou' rt sure thou art mine , but dost not know , Who t was begat thee . Ore . Wil 't Bastardize me ? Yes , mother , yes , I know I was his sonne : Alas ! why , what are you ? a senselesse peece Of rotten earth can doe as much to corne , As you to me , beare it , and bring it forth , But Agamemnon he that seed did sow , And onely vnto him my selfe I owe : And for him thou shalt die . Cly. O , I confesse , My conscience tells mee , I deserue no lesse : And thus thy mother from thee doth depart , Leauing vexation to torment thy heart : She dies . Orest. Now friend , I see my father liue againe , And in his royall state at Argos Court : This is the night in which hee first came home , O blessed powers of hell , diuine Canidia , Now am I satisfied , now hath reuenge perfection . And nothing grieues me , but that Tyndarus , My mothers father , did not see her dye . I le in and tell him , my thoughts must reueale Those acts I doe : this night who would conceale ? Now soule triumph , whilst that my deeds shall shine , I' th face o' th Court , and all the world know 't mine .
ACT. V.
SCEN. I. Enter Orestes in his gowne : Tyndarus : Strophius : Electra : Pylades : two Lords . Orest. MY Lord your daughters potion works most rarely . The King 's asleepe , God blesse his Maiesty . O : doe not wake him , faith 't is pitty , la : Tyn. What doe I see ? ha , blood ? the little child Dead ; his daughter bleed , Aegysteus kill'd ? Orest. Your Lordships eyes doe faile , 't is but spilt wine . . Tynd. Lay hands o' th villaine , 't is the Physicians deede . . Orest. Nay friends , hands off , 't is no Physician now : Discouers him selfe . See , see , old Tyndarus , dost thou know me yet ? Fetch me my Crowne and robes , nay , I 'll ascend : Is not Atrides eldest sonne your King ? Tyn. What hast thou done , foule Viper , to eat out Thy mothers bowells , what , was this thy deede ? Thy silence saies 't was thine , what Tanais Tygris or Rhenus , or what flowing sea , Should wash thee in the salt Meotis streame , Or Tethis at full tide o'rflow thy banks , Still would the spots of murder sticke on them . Orest. Why Grandsire , I goe not about to wash , By heauen , 't was all the fruit thought to win , To thinke all mischiefe here could be no sinne . Tynd. See , see , thy mother , looke vpon her now , On her , whose eyes thou hast for euer clos'd , Which eyes haue often wakned at thy cry , And hush'd thee with a lullaby to sleepe : See , see , these hands , which oft with so much care , Wrapt gently vp thy vnset tender limbs : See , see , this face , wont at thy signes to smile , When nature gaue not leaue vnto thy tongue . To vtter thy childs meaning . Ore . See , see these bones , these nasty rotten bones , Which had so often lock'd his hands in hers ; Here stood the tongue which oft had call'd her sweet , Deare Glytemnestra , and then stopt his speech , And told his loue in a more speaking signe . Here stood those eyes , which fed vpon her face , And made her of thy daughter , a great Queene , And thee made him a dish for loathed wormes . Tyn. Suppose she did , there was but one yet dead , And with ones death againe should be repaid . Orest. No , Tyndarus , had I desir'd but one , I should haue thought I had desired none . Why , me thinks , I should too haue kill'd thee , The number is too little yet of three . Tyn. Into what land , what country wilt thou fly ? All earths , all lands , all countries will flie thee : The heauens will look with a more cherefull brow On Cerberus . Orest. Why , let heauen looke as 't will , it is my crowne , That I haue done an act shall make heauen frowne : Tynd. O , what earth loues so much a guilty soule , That it can beare thee ? Ore . Why , Sir , this is mine , And this shall beare mee . Am I not righ heire ? Tynd. Thou heire to kingdomes ! thou a subiect rather , To helpe to make a Players Tragedie . Orest. Why , that will make me swell with greater pride , To thinke my name shall drop in lines of blood ; From some great poets quils , who well shall paint How brauely I reueng'd my fathers death , That is the thing I wish'd , and 't is my glory , I shall be matter for so braue a story . But where 's my Crowne ? 1 Lord . No murderers , wee 'll rather ioyne with him , This old man here to take away thy life , Then such an homicide shall frame vs lawes , Who hath himselfe rac'd out the lawes of Nature . 2 Lord . Yes , and wee 'll set here Argos Crowne on him , Who shall enact some punishment for thee ; Which although none can equalize this deed , Yet what our griefes can thinke , all shall be done , And wee 'll forget thou' rt Agamemnons sonne . Ore . Why , thinke you vpon your worst , I scorne to craue . I had three liues , you but my one shall haue . Tyn. Then since vile wretch thou hast committed that , Which while there is a world , throughout the world Will be pronounc'd for the most horrid deede That euer came into the thought of man ; A thing which all will talke of , none allow ; I here disclaime that name of Grandfather , And I must quite forget that in thy veynes , My blood doth flow , but thinke it then let out , When thou letst out my daughters ; and since you Kinde Lords commit the state vnto my yeeres , Yeeres too vnfit , heauens know , to beare a state : My mind , me thinks , contends for to decree Somewhat , which to my selfe I dare not tell : Iust conceiu'd wrath , and my affection striues , Hate forbids pitty , pitty forbids hate , And exile is but barren punishment : Yet let me banish thee from out these eyes , O neuer let thy sight offend me more , All thy confederates , and all thy friends . You , Pylades , wich did so smoothly cloake , The damnde profession hee did vndertake : You , Strophius . Stroph. My Lord , I know not ought , Yet , since one foot is now in Charons boat , If it please you , let tother too afloate . Tynd. Not so , but I will banish you the court , And you Electra , come , I must forget Affection too towards you , you gaue the child , Which you had charge of to the murderers sword . Elect. Why Grandsire , I herin no wrong do finde , Since all these goe , I would not stay behinde . Tyn. Nay , but no one shall company the other , Hence thou Cocytus streame of this offence , Strophius & Pylades , Electra , hence : Exeunt Stroph . Pyl. Elect. Orest. Why farewell Grandsire , since thou bidst , I flie , And scorn companions for my misery . Exit Orest. Tynd. Vnto this punishment this one more I adde , That none shall dare to giue Orestes foode , And this decree shall stand ; I speake with griefe , And here pronounce Orestes no reliefe . Hence with these corps ; poore child what hadst thou don ? Thy Nurses prayers , that there might spring a rose , Where e're thou trod'st could not keepe backe thy foes . Some plague he hath , but such a matricide Should neuer die , although he euer dide .
SCEN. II. Enter Elect. and Stroph . Elect. THus neuer lesse alone , then when alone , Where to ourselues we sweetly tell our woes , Thou Vncle , cheife companion to our griefes , And sole partaker of our miseries , Why doe we liue , when now 't is come to passe , It is scarce knowne that Agamemnon was , He dies far easier , who at first doth drowne , Then he which long doth swim , and then sinks down . Stroph. Nay Neece , me thinks I now doe see the Hauen . Where my ag'de soule , must leaue this tossed barke , Made weak with yeeres and woes , yet I commend Vnto my Son the heart of a true friend , That 's all the will I leaue , and let him know Friendship should euer be , but most in woe . And so I leaue thee Neece , I first must die , To haste a periode to this Tragedy . He dies . Elect. O enuious Fates could you not vse me thus ? Haue not I griefe inough to burst my heart ? Was my life's thred twisted and knit so strong ? That the keen edge of all these miseries Can neuer cut it off ; Must I beare more ? 'T is all my safety now not to be safe , Are there so many wayes to rid ones life ? And can I hit on none ? they say that death Is euery where , and yet I finde him not : Tush , but I seeke him not , why my owne hand Might graspe him to me , if I did but striue . Now hand helpe ease my heart , and make a way Stabs her selfe To let out griefe , that hath so long dwelt here , Now knife tha 'st don good seruice , there lie by , Heauen well decreed it , nothing life can giue , But euery thing can make vs not liue .
SCEN. III . Enter Cassandra . NOw Priams ghost , haste , haste , I say to looke , With chearefull eyes on the sinister booke , And there to Hecuba my mother show The tragique story of thy conquered foe . And let Andromacha my sister see , What Agamemnons race is come to be . Now Troy gratifie that most sad doome , Conquered by those that thus themselus or'ecome , Let Greece so florish still , let Argos be Puft with the pride of their great victory . Let it beare Souldiers , so withall it beare Orestes too ; now mother neuer feare Argos makes me to laugh , which made thee weep , The Troians in the graue now sweetly sleep . Their sorrow hath the end , now these begin To ouerflow themselues with mutuall sin : And after all , Orestes , we may see , Hath lost his reason , mans sole propertie .
SCEN. IV. Enter Orestes furens . Orest. BY heauen you shall not , nay , I am decreed , Doe teare , teare me , yes , I haue deseru'd it . Cass. O braue , O braue , hee 's mad as well as I ; I 'me glad my madnes hath got companie . Orest. Mother , why mother will you kill my father ? Then I 'll kill you ; tush , I haue don 't already . Much patience will grow fury in time , Follow you me , you beast , you damn'd Aegysteus , I 'll hew thee piece by piece , looke of my mother . Cass. I am she , or one loues thee well . Orest. Out you witch , you witch . Cas. Murderer , murderer , Orest. Dost whisper with the diuells , to torment mee , O how they lash me with their snaky whips , Why Megaera , Megaera , wilt not hold thy hand ? Are you there too , Erynnis ? hay , all hell , My Grandsire Atreus he stands fighting there , But hee 'll ha' th' better on 't ; keep Cerberus keepe , Keepe the fates fast , or all hell breakes loose . Mother I see you , O you are a whore , Did I kill you witch , dost thou lash , dost thou ? Cas. Why this is fine , my very looks doe whip him . Orest. Could I but get the stone from Sysiphus , I 'de dash thy braines out ; O are you there I faith , Spics Stro. and Elect. dead . A bed so close with you adulterer , I 'll stab your lustfull soules with your owne kniues . Stabs them with Electra's knife . Cas. O clap , clap , O rare beyond expectation , Hold good heart , do not burst with laughter , Orest. Will you not wake , sleepe , sleepe then your last , Looke how they fly i' th ayre , Cass, I see them see them , Orest. Why Ioue , dost meane to let them into heauen , O th' art come downe , and gon to hell , Pluto , see Pluto hee 's afraid of them , O spare my sides , my sides , my sides , the blood O now you touch my ribs : Cas. Hay , how he skips , O excellent , whips himselfe , O sweet Catastrophy , do's none see 't but I ? Clap , clap , againe , would all Priams sons , And daughters were here now to helpe me laugh . Orest. Lash on , lash on Canidia , arth thou there ? Why grandsire would it were to doe againe , Nay Aeacus I feare no whipping posts , currentes Exeunt . Laugh'st thou , thou witch ? I 'll follow thee to hell .
SCEN. V. Enter Pylad. alone . Pyl. THus seeking others , I haue lost my selfe , My friend and father banisht , and whilst I Wander to seeke them for to ease their woe , I heare more griefe proclam'd against my friend , That none must succor , none must giue him foode , And yet I 'll seeke him , and should all the lawes , That Tyranny should thinke vpon , restraine , I 'de draw my blood forth for let him drinke , But O what 's here ? O I haue found too sonne , Spies Stroph . dead . One which I sought , my Fathers wearied soule In sighes hath now expired out it selfe . Now O ye Sisters , your great taske is done , You ne're vntwinde what you haue once begun . Thus obuious to our Fates t' our selues vnkind , We haste to seeke , that which too soone we finde . Alas why doe our souls too greedy burn , To hasten thither whence we ne're return , We run to 't of our selues , though death were slow , Should he come tardy , we too soone should goe . For the first day that giues vs our first breath , Doth make vs a day nearer vnto death . All this huge world , which now on earth so striue . To morrow this time may not be aliue . Great Troy is downe since Agamemnon fell , Since my deare Father , which but now was well . O art thou come deare friend , for thee I sought , Enter Orest. Her 's some foode yet , in spight of all the lawes : Orest. Wilt bid me to dinner Pluto , ha , with what ? Giue me no snakes , I , I goe , I goe , Vp to Cythaerus top , I hate thy meate . Pyl. Heauens ! hee 's distracted , now doth fury right , When thus against her selfe , her selfe doth fight . 'T is I man here , 't is Pylades , not Pluto ; Orest. Ha , Pylades , I , they haue banisht him , But grandsire looke too 't , I 'll teare out your maw , Pylades , Pylades I come — Pylad. Why I am hee , looke friend , dost not know me . Orest. Yes , yes thou wert with me when I kild my mother And see , the Furies now would whip thee too , Alecto looke , looke , here 's Alecto too , O Clytemnestra , hay , how the lion skips , And Taurus he would tosse me on his hornes . Looke on the Ramme , see the Beare roares at me , And Charon he would fling me into Styx . Pylad. He feares the heauenly signes , nay then now time Hath brought true punishment on euery crime . Orest. Dash out the puppets braines , the little boy , The bastard , my mothers bastard : so blood , spin , My mother kild my Father , kild the King , But she got little by 't , looke on her brest It bleeds , it bleeds ; so , so Aegystheus , so . Pylad. O what a strange distemper stirs his braine , Thou gentle Somnus , in whom care doth rest , Kinde father of cold death , and son of peace , Which comes to Kings and poore men all alike : Binde his disturbed braine , tye vp his sense . Let him but liue to die ; now t is not long Before we both shall sing our funerall song . Or. Ha , must I sinke , can I not keepe a loft ? Fals a sleepe . What is the streame so strong ? why then I 'll diue , And come to hell the sooner . Pylad. So gentle sleepe , Thou gather'st vp his wandring braines againe , This is but halfe dead , yet halfe dead he lies , But t is not long ; before he wholly dies . Musique within . Harke they play musike ; O these sounds do harme , Enticing woe with their melodious charme ; These please not men in woe ; these time doe keepe , But miseries best falling is to weepe . Or stops are nought but sobs , our hearts we bring . Whereon we prickt the soulefa which we sing . A song within together with the musicke . Weepe , weepe you Argonauts , Bewaile the day That first to fatall Troy You tooke your way . Weepe Greece , weepe Greece , Two Kings are dead , Argos , thou Argos , now a graue Where Kings are buried . No heire , no heire is left , But one that 's mad , See Argos , hast not thou , Cause to be sad ? Sleepe , sleepe wild braine , Rest rocke thy sence ; Liue if thou canst To grieue for thy offence . Weepe , weepe you Argonauts , &c. Pyl. Peace Musique , peace , our plaints haue louder cries , A heart that 's sad can neuer harmonize . Griefe cannot keepe his time , all time 's too long , Sighs are best sembriefes to his dolefull Song . My ditties mournefull though thou sweetly play . Thus doe we all euen blow our liues away . But doest thou wake Orestes ? is rest fled , Orest. wakes Sleep ne're dwells long in a molested head , Orest. Harke , harke the Furies entertaine my mother , Orpheus would fetch Euridice from Hell , See , he lookes back , wouldst venter so thou foole , I 'de see my mother burnt before I de goe , Why shouldst thou bring her ? she would stifle thee , Stifle thee in thy bed as my mother did . Pylad. Still harping on thy mother ? Orest. Harping , no , Let Orpheus harpe : O , I , she was , she was , A very , very Harpie . Pyl. Thus madnes playes , And keeps a certaine measure in his words , Orest. O I suckt out my mothers dearest blood , I did indeed , O she plagues me for 't now , O I must goe lie downe in Tytius place , Ixion too , he Sir would faine resigne . I scorne your petty plagues , I 'll haue a Worse , O the vulture , the wheele , the vulture . Pyl. See how his conscious thoughts , like fiends of hell , Doe arme themselues , and lash his guilty soule . He see 's no vulture , nor no Scorpion strikes , Yet doth his conscience whip his bloody heart , He needs no witnesses , he hath within A thousand thoughts which testifie his sin . No punishment so strickt , no deadly smart , As priuate guilt that smiteth on the heart . Orest. I did , I confesse I did , I kild them all , Ript vp the wombe that bare me ; nay I did , O Tantalus thy plague , some meate , some meate , Who pulls those apples hence ? let them alone , Nay sinke to the bottom , I will follow thee , Lies downe to drinke . The riuer s drie , my mother hath drunke all . Pyl. Alas , come , goe with me , we will finde drinke . Orest. Is Pluto's buttry ope , his drinks too hot , I doubt 't will scald me , but I 'll taste on 't yet Th' Eumenides stand to whip me as I goe , Nay I will passe you , I will out-slip them all . Exit currens , Pyl. See in his conscience lies hels punishment , Our own thoughts iudges none are innocent . Exit .
SCEN. VI. Enter 2. Lords . 1 Lord . WE that haue here ben born to see this change , May leaue the court , and tell our children tales , Of the dire fall of Inachus great house , The young Prince mad , the Princesse kild her selfe , Old Strophius dead from griefe ; and murder heapt , Corps vpon corps , as if they ment t' inuite , All hell to supper , or som Iouiall night . 2 Lor. Nay but my Lord this is most pittifull , That the yong Prince should thus from dore to dore , Beg for his foode , and yet none dare to giue , I saw him wandring yesterday alone , Flying from euery crow , or pratling Pie , Crying out mother , and as if there had Tormenting Furies following him with fraud , And truth I thought to tell old Tyndarus , To moue his ruthfull yeeres to pitty him , And will you ioyne petitioner with me , Wee 'll tell the cause , 't is good to ease misery . 1 Lord . My Lord I like your motion , and will ioyne For Agamemnons sake my honor'd Master . Exeunt .
SCEN. VII. Enter Orestes , Pylades , with naked rapiers . Orest. MY Fury leaues me , now I 'me at my last , And now me thinks thou truely art a friend , Now with vndaunted spirit preuent my griefe , And let thy rapier drinke blood greedily , As if it lou'd it , cause it is thy friend , Now rid me of my woe , thy friendly vow , Neuer did truely shew it selfe till now : Pyl. Why then deare friend I thus erect this arme , And will be strong to thee , as thou to me , Wee 'll looke vpon our deathes with better face , Then others doe on life ; come Tyndarus , see , We scorne to liue when all our friends are dead , Nor shall thy Fury make base famine be The executioner to my dearest friend , Whilst I can kill him , therefore spight of thee , Wee 'll free our selues past all calamity , Orest. Yes Pylades , we will beguile our time , And make him search through euery nooke a' th world , If he in all his race can euer spie , Two that like vs did liue , like vs did die : But we delay our death , now brauely come , And the last parting word shall be strike home . they run at one another run again Pyl. O brauely strook deare friend yet once again . Orst. Yes at one thrust two friends must not be slain , O , how I loue these wounds , heauen dropping showers , When the outragious dogge makes clouds of dust Vpon the thirsty earth , come not more sweet , Then the blest streames of blood , thy rapier raines . Hence weapon : for my loynes now scorne all props , But my friends armes , O , beare good leggs a while , The weight of murder sits vpon my soule , And bends my staggering ioynts vnto the earth . Pyl. Haste , haste , I faint , but O , yet let my strength Be Atlas to sustaine the falling world ; Breath , breath sweet vapours of two trusty hearts , And let our breaths ascend to heauen before , To make a roome hard by the frozen pole , Where that our winged soules shall mount and sit , More glorious then the Concubines of loue , Wreath'd with a crowne of rich enamel'd starres , Leauing all ages to deplore our death : That friendships abstract perish with our breath : Orest. Fly thou best part of man , where Hecate Borne on the swarthy shoulders of the Euen , Sits in a groue of oakes , till gray eye'd morne , Bids her to throw off nights blacke Canopie . Pyl. Wil 't die before me ? Stay , stay , I come . Orest. O graspe me then , our names like Gemini , Shall make new starres for to adorne the skie . Is thy breath gone ? Pyl. O , yes , 't is almost past , Then both together , thus wee 'll breath our last . They fall downe dead , embracing each other .
SCEN. VIII. Enter in haste Tyndarus , Lords , with others . Tynd. WEnt they this way ? my Lords , you moue mee much , Could I find him now , I would seat him new , In his right Kingdome , which doth weigh downe mee . 1 Lord . I see my Lord Orestes , and his friend , Without your leaue haue made themselues an end . Tynd. Then now is Argos Court like to some stage , When the sad plot fills it with murdred Trunckes , And none are left aliue but onely one , To aske the kinde spectators ( plaudite ) All else haue bid ( valete ) to the world , The man reseru'd for that , is Tyndarus , Who thus hath seen his childrens childrens end , His Grandchild , a bad sonne , a most deare friend ; The Scene must now be ouerflow'd with grones , Each man sits downe to waile his priuate mones : One for the Queen doth weep , one for the King , All taste the bitter waters of this Spring : The Nurse bewails the child , that part she beares , All haue their subiects to bedew with teares ; Each one yet haue but one ; but all of mee , Challenge a part in griefes sad sympathy . Orestes , Clytemnstra , I must call , These all for mine , thus must I weepe for all : Let none belieue this deed , or if they doe . Let them belieue this punishment then too . 'T is vile to hate a Father , but such loue , As breeds a hate to 'th mother , worse doth proue : Our life consists of ayre , our state of winde , All things we leaue behind vs which wee find , Sauing our faults ; witnesse Orestes here , Who was his owne tormentor , his owne feare . Who flying all , yet could not fly him selfe , But needs must shipwrack vpon murders shelfe : And so his brest made hard with miserie , He grew himselfe to be his enemy . Thus griefe and gladnesse still by turnes do come , But pleasure leastwhile doth possesse the roome . Long nights of griefe may last , but lo , one day Of shining comfort slideth soone away . He , whom all feare on earth , must feare a fate , For all our powers are subordinate : Three howres space thus well can represent , Vices contriu'd and murders punishment . A Monarchs life can in this little space Shew all the pompe that all the time doth grace His risings and his falls , and in one span Of time , can shew the vanity of man . For none of vs can so command the powers That we may say , to morrow shall be ours . Now Fortunes wheele is turn'd , and time doth call , To solemnize this friendly funerall . No force so great , no so disaster wrong , As can vnknit the bands which holdeth strong Vnited hearts : who since they thus are dead , One roome , one tombe shall hold them buried : And as these friends ioyn'd hands to beare their Fate ; So we desire you to imitate . Who since they all are dead , we needs must craue Your gentle hands to bring them to their graue .
THE END .
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himselfe● Spoken by the Authour himselfe ado●ne blesse my dearest earth , And like a Bride adorne thy royall brow , With fruits rich Garand wh●●e your wearied head , You tell your warre , where that the field's your bed . with-strength length , That it may hit the marke and fly with strength . seeth refreshed soule ; " Things that wee daily see th' affections cloy , " Hopes long desired what'tis th'immortall powers haue had fathers , And know what 'tis to haue them murdered thus . But I who'twas secret priuate meanes , We might but learne who 'twas , that drench'd their swords In thy I or fetch't from Pluto's armes : But come ; If earth haue such a creature as can tell , fea●th fetch't from Pluto's armes : But come ; If earth haue such a creature as can tell , Twill cheektmoone Acheron , When the blacke palpherys of the full cheekt moone , Haue got behinde this part a'th parta'th full cheekt moone , Haue got behinde this part a'th Hemispheare , And darke Aldebor , and sitby You two , sit by , and beare in minde this charge , Who Abait their infectious Carcasses shauld hang , A bait for flying spirits in the Ayre . Canidia inawe Nor Gods , nor nature shall keepe mee in awe , Why towards my mother , by heauens Al●cto Hell and the furies shall stand all amaz'd , Alecto shall come there for to behold New kinds drw to be strooke againe , He grew so hot , he drew and made a Stab ; At which encounter both loofe he which in his desperate thoughts , Would loose the bands betwixt his soule and him , Ones feare-cloth ope my strong iawd sepulcher , And rip the seare-cloth from my wounded breast , O can a child smile loynts at the performance quake ; Fruite of our loines , first vigor of our youth , Looke on these Aegyftheus Enter Aegystheus and Clytemnestra , in their night-robes Oblessed the night in which hee first came home , O blessed powers of hell , diuine Canidia , Now am tr●umph this night who would conceale ? Now soule triumph , whilst that my deeds shall shine , I'th flyi'th , sleepe then your last , Looke how they fly i'th ayre , ▪ conscious thoughts , like fiends of hells , Doe arme themselues , and lash his guilty thoseapples plague , some meate , some meate , Who pulls those apples hence ? let them alone , Nay sinke agroue the swarthy shoulders of the Euen , Sits in a groue of oakes , till gray eye'd morne ,