ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES: PRESENTED TO HER HIGHNESSE THE LADY ELIZABETH; With an EPILOGUE, Shewing the Parallell in two Poems, THE RETƲRN, and THE RESTAƲRATION.

By C. W.

At the Hague, for Sam. Brown, MDCXLIX.

TO THE MOST HIGH AND MOST VERTUOUS PRINCESSE THE LADY ELIZABETH.

Madam,

THese rude and uncompos'd Airs aspire into your presence, that from your Touch they may receive Time and Laws. If you shall gra­ciously vouchsafe to read them, they will Live and Breath. It pleased our Renowned Lady, Queen Elizabeth, to preferre the learned Authour to the choise honour of her Favourite, and to conferre with him in his Naturall language. Neither doth that Most Illustrious Name, rest on your High­nesse without a designe of Provi­dence, since it speaks in you her [Page]Piety, and Early Bonds, and whatso­ever Shee wore of greater Value then her Crown. May it please you here­in to countenance the Parallell. One­ly accept the Endeavours of the un­worthy Translatour, and give them Admission to your Vertuous Hand, not valuing the Present, but receiving the Homage: For the Authoritie of your Judgement is so pregnant, of so Royall and Early Growth, and so he­reditary, that Verses licens'd by your Approbation, like sealed Measures, are justifi'd against Inferiour censures by their mark.

Playes are the Mirrours wherein Mens actions are reflected to their own view. Which, perhaps, is the true cause, that some, privy to the Uglinesse of their own guilt, have issued out Warrants, for the break­ing all those Looking-glasses; lest their deformities recoyl, and become [Page]an eye-sore unto themselves. This dim Chrystall (fully'd with An­tiquitie, and a long voyage) will return upon your Highnesse some Lines and Shadows of that Pie­tie to your deceased Father, which seats you above the Age, and beyond your Years: Which makes you better then your Countrey, and higher then your Enemies: Which lodges you in our Eye as our Ex­ample, and in our Heart as our Treasure.

Be secure (most illustrious Prin­cesse) you are not so much guard­ed from flattery, by the Acts and Vi­gilancy of the States, as by the Tran­scendencie of your own Merits. The Historie of your Name shall be an Academie, whence obsequi­ous Rhetorick shall draw forth En­comiums to bleach the defects of unaccomplisht Queens.

MADAM, Your Vertues com­mand: Let Your Clemen­cie favour the dutie of my ambition, Which is, to be

The most humble Honourer of Your Highnesse, C. W.

TO THE MOST EXCELLENT PRIN­CESSE THE LADY ELIZABETH, On my Friends Dedication of ELECTRA.

GREAT MADAM,
All the Muses humbly bow,
And kneel (not to the Ordinance) but You:
And mine stoops low, as Persians to the sky,
Low as their arrogance is bold and high
Who have enacted, that the Hat and Knee
The Hinge of Honour be forgot to thee.
Now though You are depos'd in those poor parts,
You're still the same Great Princesse in our hearts.
Souls make your Train and Court, which is no lesse
Now, than when all Your Pallace was a presse.
State, Pomp, obsequious throngs, and such gay things
Are Complements, and make but tapstry Kings.
Spare Scepters, Crowns, nay blood, still there remains
The Princesse, not so by the Fathers Veyns
Alone, but Virtues, which are such they'l Wooe
You Realms and Subjects where so er'e you go.
You own a Word, a Look, a Touch will smooth,
Unfiled Indians to Obedient Love.
See Forreign Princes Crowd, and presse to lay
Their Kingdoms by thy side, and next age may,
See the score of thy Royall Parents wrongs,
Reveng'd by Kings which now sleep in thy Loynes.
You and the Duke are all our Hold and Fort,
Henry presents the Camp, and You the Court.
The Royall Widow with her beauteous Sky
Of Lady's, are Seen in Your Cheek and Eye:
And in Great Glo'sters little self Alone,
The Father breaths, and Brother is at Home.
Then leave us not, Dear pair, least that we throw
Our selves down where dead plumbets use to go.
It is your innocence does Counter-mand
Destruction, and bids Fire and Brimstone, Stand;
And when the rowling Mountains would come On,
You like those little Seeds bid e'm, Be gone.
On the Account too that it is your ray,
Madam, alone, keeps green up in the Bay;
The Poet here presents Electra's eye
A Christall for to dresse your Cypresse by,
To set your Veyl, and sighs, and what you wear
Instead of Pearl, each Orientall tear.
And while you sit in those shades of your dresse,
And Gloom of your attyre, a Tragick verse:
Moving with pensive gate, and reverend feet,
May to your eye a smooth admittance Meet:
If that it passe the Guard, and die not there,
For Forreign Spy, or CHARLES'es Messenger.
H. P.

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

THe Calender that's stampt for fourty nine
Surts not the Year more, then thy Book the time:
Which comes forth in such day, that it before
Had been clean Verse, and English, but no more.
Now 'tis Designe, and Plot, and may be said
Nor to bring onely forreign Wit, but Aid:
It speaks our Land, as well as Tongue, and cares
Not onely for our Words, but our Affayrs.
You make him to invade the State, and seek,
Not to translate, but to transport the Greek;
As if you had Commission to lie
Agent in forreign tongues, and Poesie:
And when the King wants troops of valiant Vers,
To beat your drums up through the Languages.
And it is Counsel now to fight the times,
Not in pitcht Prose, but Verse, and flying rymes.
'Tis safe too: For the Poet (as Men say)
Can forfeit nothing but some woods of Bay.
An old Lute, broken harp, torn wreath, or all
Such Goods and Chattels mere Poeticall.
Here I might praise the Wisdome of thy Wit,
Who gain'st the Croop of danger too in it:
For 'tis but Sophocles repeated, and
Eccho cannot be guilty or arraign'd.
Thus by slight of translation you make
Him libell'em, who is ten ages back
Out of their reach: and lay your ambush so,
They see not who 'tis hurts e'm. He or You.
Yet each page of your book affrights 'em more,
Then the loud Citie-prentices at doore.
They tremble at their own red actions past,
(For 'tis their Chronicle, but writ in hast.)
And then to see the Punishment they shake,
Reading their Shambles, and themselves in stakes.
When Egist groans, they start, as if the steel
Reacht at their souls, and when He falls, They reel.
Thus it sows spears and Agues in some breasts,
But fills us with the joy of Wine and Feasts,
And Hopes to see it dub'd by Victorie,
And bid, Rise up a perfect Prophecie.

To his learned Friend on his ingeni­ous choice and translation of Sophocle's Electra, Representing Allegorically these Times.

WHat? 's aged Sophocles still infant? how
Comes it to passe he learns to speak but now?
His lines before were but half truth; his style
Against this age thy wit doth whet and file.
Me thinks this were a perfect Prophecie,
But that there wants still the Catastrophe:
Here guilt with guilt is parallel'd; the rime
Of vengeance too may be compleat in time.
Our Agamemnon's dead, Electra grieves,
The onely hope is that Orestes lives.
Others can onely books translate; but thou
Translat'st the Poeme, and the Poet too,
And mak'st him Prophet; as with double face,
He see's behind him by thy looking-glasse.
Poets themselves were ne're transform'd; but here
In one twy-forkt Parnassus doth appear.
These times were typifi'd by those; and he
I'le boldly adde, was but a type of thee.
W. G.

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

BOld Friend,
Thou hast spoke words, and thou must look
To be indited for thy per'lous Book;
Twelve honest men of Mycens shall debate
About the Symptomes of thy foolish Fate.
How wilt thou look when thou shalt be attaqu'd.
For having broke Lord Egists new made Act?
O for a Limber then with grace to hint
Thy wan complexion and thy face in print!
Is it a cheap offence to have display'd
The Mysterie of the Thanksgiving-trade,
That you Humiliations too must mock,
It's dear Co-partner, that drives on one stock?
Thou sweet Electra hast with sighs reliev'd;
Thou hast with her in all her sorrows griev'd.
And when 'twas Ordered that she be array'd
In the cast gown of some stale Chamber-maid;
Thou from remotest Isles Attire hast brought
Of purest gold, with curious phansie wrought,
Unfolded from the Ward-robe of thy Wit.
Rich as the Vests aboard her Fathers fleet,
When Asian Robes, and costly Phrygian Vayls,
Over the Victour spred their silken sayles
Nor were they Webs of an inseriour Grain
By rude and Needy Vulgar knit for Gain:
There fifty Princesses in stately grace,
With equall Princes match'd, great Priams race,
On Ivory Couches in soft Cushions plac'd,
(The lofty Gallery's with gold enchac'd)
Their Needles ply: each Madams nimble clue
The younger Dames and honour'd Maids pursue,
When Egist too had her confinement charg'd
By thee thus richly clad she is enlarg'd,
And by a Princesse plac'd, whose each aspect
Will an enriched Ray of grief reflect:
See how they kindle tears, how by consent
They now themselves, each other now lament.
Mark their thick Tears, and fair dejected Head,
As heavie Lilly's honey-riv'lets shed.
Then they look up, and if but thin drops shoot,
At th' others Eie their watry Host recruit.
The streams fall in and mix. Pale sorrow rides
In silent depths, and unimpeached tides.
Now Tears they vie, and in the place contend,
Each is a Duellist, and not a Friend:
Till on the precious pavement this rich vein
Is lost in that, and so they close again:
Now in full force they march, joyn hand in hand,
And Grief no Champion is, but a full Band.
But I must adde one word, before we end,
To expiate my having been thy friend.
Had I thee known a Greek, or that way given,
From this foul fault long since I had been driven.
I'd fled at distance, and a farre off feard
Thy pastbord stomacher and goodly Beard.
But these are all invisible in thee,
Invisible as is the Greek to me.
But since thou tell'st me it, Hold, take these Alms,
This Vers that wil scarce go, these with'red Palms.
E. F.

The Persons of the Enterlude.

  • The Tutour and Foster.
  • Orestes, the Prince.
  • Electra, the Princesse Royall.
  • The Quirre of Maids of Honour dwelling neare the Palace.
  • Chrysotheame, the Sister of Electra.
  • Clytemnestra, the unnaturall Spouse of Aga­memnon, who conspired against him.
  • Egist, the Paramour of Clytemnestra, and
  • Conspiratour against the King.

The Signification of the References.

THe Alphabeticall letter relates to the mana­ging of the Scene, it shew's the Postures and Motions, with the Carriage of the Action.

The Smaller Figures referres to the Interpreta­tion of some difficult places, and vindicating them from Obscurity or Mistake.

The Larger Figures in the Head of some files of Verses, is that which contains the most No­velty. We must know, that the Ancient Quire of the Greek Tragedians in the time of Sophocles, consisted of Fifteen, seated by fives upon three Forms, or by threes upon five Forms. And in that Number were their Approaches and Returns, one speaking for the rest, being the fore party of the Quire. Musick still attended their Speeches and Dancing. Now these Stanzas prick'd out by Numbers, are most exactly answer'd by an en­suing Stanza, either immediately ensuing, or so enterwoven, that the third answers the first, and the fourth the second. Every such Stanza ha­ving 'its Counterpart, and every Member though of different Meeter, being exactly commensurate with the Member following in the same Num­ber of the Counterpart. It is suspicious that of these Songs, the former referr'd to a Leading up of the Dance in set Paces, and the Latter to a Returning in equall Steps. Onely this kind of Dancing seems to have fall'n even in the Ro­man [Page]Tragedy's, though I hardly know any thing to have been more magnificent in the very flower and height of their Empire, then their Sumptu­ous Theaters and Amphitheaters. This long dis­use hath transmitted us a very obscure notion of those rarityes in Musick wherein the Ancient Greeks seem to have excell'd. So that it may be excusable, if I am not clear enough in delivering that, of which the injury of Time hath scarce left a shadow.

A short extract of the History about the destruction of TROY.

BEcause this confident Essay hath adventur'd to go out, under the silken Banner of Her Highnesse, and being a piece which proceeded from an Authour, in the Originall, whose character it is still to have done right to vertuous Lady's; It may possibly be engag'd (though Naturally Mo­dest) in the Attendance of some of that sex. Now it were indiscretion to think their fair hands can afford to be soyl'd with the dustie records of Time, or impertinent History, further then the Arras can instruct, or then may be understood by one who is well-vers'd in the Ward-robe. Therefore I shall take it for a needfull part of my duty here, to de­scribe briefly the Heads of this Story, so familiarly intimated in the Poem.

The voiage to Troy happened in the MCXCIIII yeare, before the Incarnation of our Saviour, about the time that Jair judg'd Israel. Upon this Quar­rell. Paris the sonne of Priam (King of Troy) sail'd over to Peloponnesus, where Menelaus reign'd; having for his Queen Helen the great beauty of her age. Paris lodg'd in the Court of Menelaus, in whose absence he carries away He­len (against the Laws of her Wedlock, and his Hospitality) over to Troy with him. Menelaus returning, demands her, and is repuls'd. Where­upon he invites his Brother Agamemnon, then King of Argos, to assist him in the recovery of [Page]her by arm's. So both the Kings with the other neighbour Princes, levying the whole strength of Greece, fell down towards Aulis an Island in Boeotia; where they entred into confederacie, not to return till either Troy were ras'd, or they pe­rished in the enterprise. But when they should have put out, the Navie lay becalm'd, till accord­ing to the answer of the Oracle which they con­sulted, Agamemnon had sacrific'd his daughter Iphigenia. About xxvii years after this Jephthe sacrificed his daughter: so that some think this of Iphigenia a fiction, and that uncertain tradition huddled up both times together, and that the La­dyes right name was Iphtigenia. This warre lasted ten years, till the prime and ablest Com­manders being cut off on both sides, the Victorie fell to the Greeks, whose cause was the juster; Troy being taken by the treachery of Aeneas and An­tenor, & sack'd, and burnt. Yet it far'd little better with the Conquerours in their return, then it had with the conquered, most of them being weather­beaten, and cast away. As for Agamemnon, he was slain in his own house by wicked Egist, through the complotment of Clytemnestra: which unnaturall treason, Orestes with the assistance of Electra reveng'd: Heaven, as it were, rewarding this affection of Orestes, by length of dayes, and happinesse of Government; for he lived ninetie years, & reigned seventy, match'd with Hermione.

The Tyrannicall usurpation of the Mycenian Kingdome, with the Affliction and Oppression of the Royall Children, and the Destruction of the [Page]Conspiratours, the Enthroning of Orestes, with the Deliverance of the Royall Family, make up this work.

It was written by Sophocles, who was born in the CCCCXCV yeare before the Incarnation of our Saviour, and lived XC years.

So that this Action was performed little lesse then MMM years ago; and represented in this Tragedie somewhat more then MM.

This Abridgement of that famous History, is ex­tracted (for the generality) out of Petavius, a most exact Chronologer, though with some change and addition.

The rest will be supply'd by the Notes.

The Historicall and Morall Plot of the Tragedy.

EXil'd Orestes is return'd, though late,
His Royall Fathers blood to expiate:
That Blood from which War and the bold sword shrunk
Yet was by Treason, and the cold Ax drunk.
Safe is he entred, but yet unrevea'ld,
By Night and darker policy conceal'd.
Electra here a Generous Defyer,
In vain to comfort woo'd by the kind Quire,
Chides Chrysotheame a white-liver'd Complyer:
Who was with Offering by her Mother sent
To bribe the dead, and Seape the punishment.
She intercepts the gifts, the Oyles she spills,
And with a smoaking Curse her Censer fills.
The Cannon's turn, and this revolting prayer,
Went forth a Treasure, but returns a snare.
But Clytemnestra pleads the fact was Just,
The Bill was Murder, where the Judge was Lust.
Yet though th' out-faced Noon she down may beat,
The Dark brings Vision, and the Silence threat,
Lash'd by pale dreams, the Hobs of night, she runs
To flattering Humiliations.
Thinking those angry Beadles to disarm,
With strumpet Incense and Religious charm.
But hypocriticall Devotions dresse,
A Pageant safety, and a Mock of peace:
For scarce her prayers are cool'd and downward bending
When their return is at the door attending.
A Post in neat Romance Orestes slayes,
Secures the field, and so the field betrayes.
Now sad Electra at the dismall news
Dissolves, and scatters into pious Dews.
The Quire Companions of her grief she slights,
Nor in her Sisters joyfull words delights.
Who sees large offerings at the Sepulchre,
And thence her Brothers hand doth right inferre.
Built on much reason: but we lesse set by
Weak-grounded truth, then a bold hear-say ly [...]
Hence raging grief into hard valour knits,
(For both are elevate beyond our wits)
Her Sister she invites to mutuall Aid,
With hands combin'd the Traytor to invade,
And is repuls'd, yet she resolves alone
To execute her resolution.
Those who Compound led captive by tame Ease,
Seldome on dangerous Honour dare to Seize.
Poor loyalty, how low now art thou laid
By Enemies destroy'd, by friends betray'd!
What valiant wisdome will appear at once,
To break thy foes, and heal thy Factions?
Orestes is at door; his Urn he shews,
Meets with Electra and confirms her woes.
The dear Imposture she must see and hold,
And to her Brother all her cares unfold.
In dolefull accents her sweet passions sound,
Which in a precious deluge streight are drown'd.
The happy witnesse of those pious throws.
Cannot forbear his person to disclose.
Their Joyes swell high, but at a quick surprize,
First Clytemnestra, and then Egist dy's.
Thus Loyall sorrow in high triumph ends,
While rebell Joy Eternall Black attends.

ELECTRA OF SOPHOCLES.

The Tutour.
The Tu­tour and O­restes are brought in upon the way to Ar­gos, newly coming in by break of day; and the old man tels him all the places as he comes by, & where he is: For it is presum'd, that he being about ten years old at his departure had not before the wisdome to take notice of them. The entrance is pert and live­ly, being quickned by frequent pointing at sights, and alteration of posture: it is also stately, opening into various Scenes, and being beautified with a prospect upon objects, full both of delight and magnificence. Besides that delicate passion which is insinuated into us, to see an Exile entring his Coun­trey, which he was forc'd to leave very young; and to heare those places repeat­ed as he passes along, whose bare names cannot but raise in him a Naturall endearment.
SOn of great Agamemnon, he who late
Led the Greek host against the Trojan State;
Now may thine eyes their wished objects read:
This is old Argos you still long'd to tread.
Yon grove is 1 horn-mad Inachi's abode:
And this, Orestes, 2 the wolf-slaying god
Wolf-Court hath nam'd: But on the left her fanes
The proud 3 Heraeum's spiring tops advance:
[Page 2]
Mycens the wealthy here her Treasures show's,
They make a stand at the door of the royal hall, and de­bate.
And this the
The ca­lamitous seat of the Argive Kings: w ch were Pelops matchdwith Hippoda­mia, daugh­ter to Oe­nomaus King of the Eleans. After whom succeeded Atreus, matchd with Aeropes He had a brother Thyestes: this brother incestuously consotted with Aerope, which made Atreus, to assert his nuptiall honour, enter on this high-flown revenge: he invites him to a feast, wherein he caters his own incestuous brood for his entertainment. Thyestes after the supper understanding of this, consulted the Oracle, how he might recompense the cruelty, and according to the answer, devirginates his own daughter Pelopera, by which incest was be­got Egist. After Atreus, Agamemnon reigned, that matched with Clytem­nestra: he after the ten years siege of Troy returning in conquest, was slain by Egist, who in his absence had wonn great authority in the kingdom. This he compassed by scaling the bed of Clytemnestra, who was left Regent of Mycens in the time of the voyage.
infamous Pelopeian house,
Whence I thee, as thy Father fresh was slain,
From thy dear sisters sweet embraces ta'ne
Rescu'd and sav'd, and to this bignesse bred
Avenger of thy Royall Fathers head.
Now then, Orestes, and thou dearest friend
Pylade, dispatch we that that we intend.
For birds with chirping Mattins call from bed
The woken Suns already rising head,
And sable night of all her starrs is rid:
Wherefore e're any out of doores shall stirre,
Conferre your thoughts. No time now to demur,
But forward action ripen'd is to height.
Orest.
Dearest of my attendants, now I see't
How kind thou art to us it plain appears,
For as some mettel'd steed, though struck in years,
In hottest service nought of heart lets go,
But stands with ear erect; you even so
Both spur us on, and march your self i'ch front:
I [...]'e tell you my resolve, attend you on't:
[Page 3]
And if ought unadvis'd escape, amend.
When I the Pythian curtain did attend
Consulting how my Fathers murder, I
On th' executioners might satisfie,
Phoebus this answer gave, mark the reply:
Without or buckler or an armies guard
By stealth procure the murders just reward,
Since then the holy voice directs us thus,
As first occasion serv's, get in this house,
And mark what e're is done, & when you know,
Make us acquainted how all actions go:
For they'll ne're spie nor once suspect your shew,
With age disguis'd, long absence, and this hiew:
And make your tale this wise; A Forreiner
Of Phoce, sent by noble Phanot there,
(For he and they in nearest league combine)
You come to tell (thereto a deep oath joyn)
How that Orestes came t'untimely end
As in the Pythian matches they contend,
Struck from the hurrying eoach: This story passe.
Mean while my Fathers tombe in the first place
(As was appointed then) with locks new shorn,
And hallowed liquours we forth with adorn:
Then we return, and carrying in our hands
The pot which midst the thicket you know stands
To hide the tale, the sweet news you have se'd
Wee'll bring them word of, how that I am dead;
My body in the funerall pile calcin'd,
To the few ashes in this urn confin'd:
For what great harm if but reported slain,
In truth I live, and great renown obtain.
I'me of the mind no words that gain are nought:
[Page 4]
Thus have I oft seen
The Po­et seems to have had an eye upon Lycurgus and Pytha­goras, yet a­voids that mistake of anticipati­on of histo­ry, while he onely names an action which might have been common to former ages, & conceals those actors which were long after the time of Orestes.
Sages carry'd out
I th' empty coffin of a false report,
Yet safe come home and double honour'd for 't;
So trust I from this fame alive to rise,
Like a bright star upon my enemies.
O Countrey soil and Greeces guardian powers,
Send me a blessed journey to these Towers;
And you my Fathers Hall, for you I come
To expiate you, led by heav'nly doom:
Nor send me with disgrace out of these ports,
But Lord of wealth, but Founder of great Courts.
Well, I have done: but you, grave Sir, beware
To what our Counsel charg'd upon your care:
And we away, 'Tis time, for alway's this
Grand Over-seer of all actions is.
El.

Ay me, unhappy me!

Tut.
Methinks within door, child, I seemd to heare
One of the maidens keep a groaning there.
Or.
'Tis poore Electra, is 't not, prithee fain
I'ld stay a while, and heare the plaint again.
Tut,
By no means, nought before Phoebus ad­vice
Assay to do: Thence take our Action rise.
Go, poure your offerings on your Fathers tombe,
For Triumph hence, and might for Service come:
Orestes & Pylades (a mute companion of Orestes) go away from before the gate, to the tombe of Agamemnon, and the Tu­tour goes away, but parts from them.
El.
Electra newly up, and wayling walks out to the gate.
Sacred light, earth-bounding aire,
Nurses privy to my care,
[Page 5]
You my Dirges witnesse best,
You how I ply my bruised brest,
When the gloomy Shade, is ceast;
But my Night grones ring aloof,
In the sad Courts wicked roof,
While I my poor Father mean,
Whom in Barbarous Region
Bloudy Mars had let alone,
Here may not unpro­perly be urg'd the old caution, that similitudes run not upon all foure: Yet may this be a fit pourtraiture of an accu­mulative or aggregative Lady, the queen politick, which hath trull'd it in the lewd embraces of the souldiery, and to con­summare the scandall, shall have conspired with it, & together hainously upon agreement, destroys her just and undoubted Lord.
But my Mother and her Mate
Egist, as strong Swains lie at
A sturdy Oak to fell down flat,
His head with bloudy Pol-ax cleave:
Nor any but I at this grieve
That thou, Father, thus shouldst come
To a sad unworthy doom.
But moan I will and cry,
While I the glittering stars espy,
While I the day discover
My plaint I'le nere give over,
But as a robd Nightingall
Will my sorrows tune, and all
Shall heare my moan before this gate;
O Pluto's and Proserpines state!
O Mercury and curse that sure is!
O stern god-begotten Fury's!
You Crowners of the murdred, heare
You Watchers of th' Adulterer!
Come ye, help ye, venge ye all
Our Fathers fall:
And my brother home me call.
My self no longer can weigh down
My overbearing moan.
Quir.
1 Child,
The La­dy's dwel­ling hard by, come to her that they may comfort her.
child Electra, of a mother
2 Unlucky'st of all other
3 Why alwayes thus dripping away
4 In tears that can find no allay,
5 For Agamemnon long since slain
6 By the ungodly wily Quain,
7 And betrayd by wicked train.
8 O that he who did this contrive
9 (If I may say't) may he nere thrive!
El.
1 Issues of noble parentage,
2 You come my sorrow to asswage,
3 I see and know it, nor deceive
4 You me, yet never by your leave
5 Will I surcease with sobbing cries
6 To mourn my Fathers obsequies:
7 Wherefore sweet Damsels ever kind,
8 Let me this favour from you find,
9 Let me alone,
10 Alwayes, alack, alack to groan.
Quir.
1 Why from deaths Catholick Meere you'l never
2 Though most you moan, deliver
3 Your Father back: or cry, or pray,
4 You onely cast your self away:
5 While you improve and give more weight
6 To sorrows load, which else were light;
7 Nor can release come by 't
8 From the sad pressure of your wo:
9 Why long you then your self t' undo.
El.
1 Foolish they who in silence sheath
2 Their parents brought to wretched death.
3 But me
Progne, feignd by the Poets to have been translated into a Swallow, or Robbin­red-brest; She to revenge up­on her husband Tereus, the incestuous rape of her sister Philomel, murthers his sonne Itys, and stews and sets him on the board to her husband, which in supper-time, to com­pleat the cruelty, she discovers; and wingd with sudden flight, is converted into a Bird, whose breast is all staind with gore. She is said continually to lament this prodigious effect of her high-wrought passion.
the dolefull one contents
4 Which Itys still, Itys laments:
5 Afflicted bird, Joves Messenger,
6 Sent for the Summers Harbinger.
7 But, O distressed 7 Niobe!
8 I thee adore my Deity,
9 Which weepest still,
10 From rocky tombe a teary rill.
Quir,
You are not, Madam, th' onely shee
VVho in this grief plead property,
VVhy you so loud 'bove them within
I'th same degree of bloud akin
As Chrysotheame and Iphianasse both,
And he who griev's in hidden growth?
El.
Happy whom nor yet long hence
Fam'd Mycens land shall bear, brave Prince;
Orestes sent by Joves decree;
Whom I unweary'd wait to see;
Childlesse, piteous, husbandlesse,
Pining away with wretchednesse,
Wasting in teares, nor can be found
What may give my sorrows bound,
[Page 8]
While he forgets both what's him done,
And what him taught, false rumours runne:
Fain would he e're.
Yet though he'ld fain do's not appear.
Qu.
Madam chear up, come chear,
In heaven great Jove resides
Who all things sees and guides.
To whom excessive passions leaving
Nor senselesse be, nor overgrieving,
Time is a gentle god, nor yet
Doe's Agamemnons youth forget
To come unto his native land
Though now in Crisa's fertile strand.
Nor who the world controlls below,
Will murther see unpunish't go.
El.
But I mean while sans hope perceive
My tender Age poor me to leave,
Nor can I longer stay
Which without Parents fade away:
Nor have a Friend my part to take,
But Pilgrim-like whom all forsake;
At home in these poor cloths must spread,
My Fathers empty Bord and Bed.
Qui.
1 Wretched coming, to remember!
2 Wretched blow giv'n in the chamber!
3 Where with the broad steel-faced Cleaver
4 The Royall Temples they dissever.
5 Treason was Privy-counsellour,
6 Lust was the Executioner.
7 Dreadfull they a dreadfull sight
8 Wrought, were it god or mortall wight,
9 That acted it.
El.
1 O Day, Curse of my Kalender!
2 O night! O Suppers horrid Chear!
3 Cracking my loaded Heart.
4 When unworthy Fate did part
5 By base Conspirators my Father
6 Who took, who stroy'd my life together.
7 With whom the great God ruling heav'n
8 In vengeance over weight be ev'n.
9 Nor may they e're enjoy their state,
10 Purchas'd at Treasons rate.
Qui.
1 Hush, pray not too loud, for know you
2 What harm storming thus may do you?
3 Endangering your present fortune,
4 Your own destruction you importune;
5 And much of needlesse ill will gain
6 While still you stubbornely complain,
7 To raise strife: forbear; 'Tis Art,
8 Oppose not the prevayling part,
9 But yoke your heart.
El.
1 I am provok'd: I see it, and
2 My impatience understand;
3 But at this fact to grieve
4 I'll not cease, till cease to live.
5 For who would speak well of me, should I?
6 VVho that or Honour know's or duty?
7 Comforters leave, leave me alone
8 For this grief must no measure own.
9 Ne're will I from my labours cease,
10 But still my tears increase.
Qui.
'Tis meere good will all that I presse,
Like to some tender Mother;
Breed not griefs one of another.
El.
Tell me what bounds my woes confine,
I'st fit the Dead in scorn t' enshrine?
VVhat man doth nature bring up so?
May I ne're in their favour grow.
Nor if I match, some worthy Lord
To live demure will I afford;
But my sad devotions pay
At my Fathers grave will lay.
For if the dead and rotten
Like earth and nought forgotten
Must lie along,
And they the wrong
Not rue, who did the same,
Farewell Vertue, Farewel shame,
And all the gods reputed name.
Qui.
One of the Ladies coming after the rest.
Brought, Madam,
Both that I may coun­sell you not to exasperate your enemies by the oppo­sition of per­petuall com­plaints, and that I may approve my self a faith­full friend in coming in to your comfort
both for yours and my own sake
Hither Im'e with all this eare betake:
And if I prove other then right to say
VVe straight submit our wills, yours be the day.
El.
Lady's, I am asham'd in your esteem
That I though ne're so sad, too pensive seem.
But to this life I am perforce enclin'd:
Pardon, how can a Maid of generous mind,
Seeing her Fathers wrongs do otherwise
Then I, who moan abed, moan when I rise?
Nor waynes my grief, but still encreases more.
For first 'tis my own mother who me bore
Hates me, then they who made away my Father
VVith me in mine own Palace, live together.
They are my Governours, and they me feed,
From whom then be supply'd, I'd rather need.
Besides, what life I lead pray do you count,
VVhen I see haughty Egist perching mount
My Fathers Throne, the self same robes behold
Him wear, my slaughter'd Father wore of old.
And in those very rooms where he his Hands
Embrew'd, attone the houshold Guardians.
And that which gives my utmost wo full stature,
My Fathers sheets are made to hold the Traytor
VVith my lewd mother, if't be fit at all
That I his bedfellow should Mother call;
And she thus base lodg'd by the murderer,
Of haunting ghosts ner'e stands one whit in fear,
But as she at the fact made merry, when
She finds the day is come about agen,
In which by guile she made our Sire away,
Then she doth mask it, then moneth offerings slay
To saviour-gods, on her thanksgiving day:
Mean while, poore I, 'bout house looking thereon
Cry, fret, and make a lamentable moan,
My Fathers dismall feast to think upon,
All by my self alone; nor can I stil
Continuall weeper, ever weep my fill.
Then the well-spoken gentle-woman for'c,
VVith such like curbing girds takes me up short;
Hate of the gods, to you, forsooth, alone
Your Father's dead, none else makes any moan;
An ill end seize on thee, and this doom pursue,
Hell after death thy lease of grief renue.
Thus taunts shee. But when any message brings
How that Orestes comes: then out she flings
Like a rude Bedlam, and with rampant voice,
Cryes, This your doings is, all this you cause
Which out of my arms reach Orestes get:
But know that thou shalt dearly pay the shot.
Thus snaps she, and her fine companion
Standing close by her elbow, eggs her on:
That sneaks in grain, that piece made up of scorn,
That Champion to Lady-duells born.
But I Orestes still expecting, who
Should set me free, mean while decay with wo.
For while he stands contriving, he destroyes
At once my present hopes, and future joyes:
Nor can I whilst things stand this wise with me,
Lady's or patient or religious be:
For deep afflicting evils burden forces
The best that are to fall on evil courses.
Quir.
Tel's one thing, Madam, is Egist abroad,
Or here, while you your passion thus unload?
El.
Abroad you may be sure: were he in town,
I durst not peep: he's now to th' countrey gone.
Quir.
Nay, if 't be so I dare somewhat more free
Own your accesse, and talk more ventrously.
El.

He is from home, your mind you need not smother.

Qu.
Then I'le adventure: VVhat news from your Brother?
Comes he, or stay's he? pray for certain tell's.
El.

He promises to come, but nothing else.

Qu.

Men on great enterprizes move but slow.

El.

I'me sure in saving him I did not so.

Qu.

Fear not, he's one will ne're desert his friend

El.

No: if I should my life were at an end.

Qu.
Not a word more; I espie Chrysotheame,
Your sister of one sire and mothers stemme,
[Page 13]
Come out of doors; with gifts in hands whose rites
Are proper to appease deceased sprights.
Chr.
VVhat a complaining, sister, at the gate
Do you make, after your accustom'd rate?
VVill you ne're be advised to refrain
From idle passion, but still give it rein?
VVhy now thus much I by mine own self know
I vex at heart things should be carri'd so:
And were but my good wil with strength protected
They soon should know w ch way I stand affected:
But in a storm I safely strike my sayles,
Nor seem to act, when action nought avayles.
Il'd have you too, Dear Sister, tread this way:
'Tis true, that Justice is not what I say,
But what you do; yet if my Liberty
I'll have, I must with those in power comply.
El.
Sad case that you his child whom you pretend
Slighting your Sire, should to your Mother bend.
For all those wholsome counsels you preferre
Are none of them your own, but taught by her;
Wherefore chuse one o'th two; or mad be stil'd,
Or in your wits but an unnaturall child.
For you that fitly say, wer't in place where
Your detestation of them you'ld declare.
Yet when I seek to right my Fathers shade
Help'st nothing, nay do'st me that would disswade:
Do's not this Cowardise to sorrow adde?
Wherefore or teach me, or else from me learn,
Could I leave off my moan what should I earn?
I live now, poor you'll say; Well, yet content:
And while I vex their hearts, at least this rent
(If ought the Dead can please) the dead present.
[Page 14]
But you that hate them, hate them sore in word,
Yet to converse with them you can afford
That murde'rd your dear Sire: Il'd ne're abide it
Though hir'd with all the knacks in which you pride it;
To crouch to their commands. Enjoy you still
A table richly furnish'd, wealth your fill:
Give me but food which nature doth require,
And to your Gallantry I'll ne're aspire.
Nor would you were you but your self, for when
You might be call'd, Daughter to'th best of men,
Your Mothers be, so shall't be to you laid
You your dead Father and your Friends betray'd.
Qui.
Nothing in anger for all loves: 'Tis right
Each of you say's, and each may profit by't.
Would you endure but to be rul'd by her,
And she but learn to be your follower.
Chry.
I am Dear Lady's in a manner us'd
To these term's from her, and had now refus'd
To speak, but that a businesse I discover,
Will make her all her wayling soon give over.
El.
Tells that great businesse, come; and if 't outvy
My grief, I'll forthwith with your will comply.
Chry.
Well I'll acquaint you then with what I can:
They mean 'lesse you your puling leave, anon
To turn you thither where no curteous Sun
Bestow's a Visit on the Dungeon.
Where in griefs lonesome Pest-house shut up close
Farre from this Land you may tune out your woes.
[Page 15]
Wherefore conform, for now 'tis time to do it,
And blame me not too late, if you shall rue it.
El.

But are you sure 'gainst me this is their doom?

Ch.

Most sure I am when Egist back shal come.

El.

Now therefore would for me he'ld come a­way!

El.

O wretch, what wicked thing is 't you did pray?

El,

That he would come, if it be thus decreed.

Ch.

To do you mischief? Are you mad indeed?

El.

To rid me from among you all far hence.

Ch.

What, of your present life have you no sense?

El.

O mine a heavenly life, most wondrous sweet!

Ch.

At least, it might be, if you 'ld be discreet

El.

Teach me not my deceas'd friend to forget.

Ch.

I teach you not, but to power to submit.

El.

You flatter, with my Nature it ne're stood.

Ch.

Yet to fall through rashnesse 't is not good.

El.

Wee'll fall, if need, t' avenge our Fathers blood.

Ch.

Our Father, he I know with this dispenses.

El.

Such words are slothfull Cowards base pre­tences.

Ch.

You'l not be rul'd then, nor with me agree?

El.

No truly, ne're may I so senselesse be.

Ch.

I'me hasting thither where my errand lyes.

El.

Whither away? whose is this sacrifice?

Ch.

My Fathers, whom my Mother sends this gift,

El.

What him the odiousest that ever liv'd?

Ch.

Him that she kill'd, your meaning's that I know.

El,

What friend advis'd her? who would coun­sel so?

Ch.

'T was some night-apparition as I cast.

El.

Now Fathers holy Angels help at last!

Ch.

Have y' any ground of hopes rais'd from this fright?

El.

I'll tell you if you'l tell's what was the sight.

Ch.

I know it not: onely one little glance.

El.
That little tell's, A word ofttimes may chance
To cast the high down, and the low advance.
Ch.
There is a speech, that with a second greet,
Your and my Father was seen her to meet
Risen to light: his Royall Staff then rear's,
And plants, which late himself now Egist bear's,
From whose Crown shot forth such a verdant Bough,
All Mycens roosted in its shady Brow.
Thus much I heard one telling, who was there
When she did to the Sun her dream declare:
Farther then this I know not, but that she
Upon that fright this Message sendeth me.
Wherefore I by thy Fathers gods thee pray,
Be rul'd by me, nor cast thy self away.
But thou 'rt still lost, if thou shalt disobey.
El.
Hold Sister: none of those things in your hands
Must touch the Tombe, Justice it self withstands,
And Piety; you should our Father carry
[Page 17]
Cleansings and offerings from his Adversary.
Wherefore i'th winds or some deep-mined cave
Hide 'em where they may ne're admission have,
Into the presence-chamber of his grave.
But let 'em there be sav'd a goodly prize,
For her own precious self against she dies.
For were she not, the most ungodly she
E're breath'd, these hostile off'rings could not be
From her the Murderesse to him that fell:
Now judge your self, how can the enter'd take wel
These honours at those hands by which he di'd
In vile disgrace, like a plain foe defi'd:
Which
It was a superstiti­ons humour of the An­cients, after they had committed any murder, to cut the sinews a­bout the arm-pits of the corse, fondly (as far as I can reach) supposing that they did thereby en­feable the arms of the injured spright, and disable it from pursuing them with its crooked tasons, or returning any due satisfaction: yet the ordinary sewer of interpretations runs into this sense, that they were wont to cut off the tipps of the body, as the ears, and nose, and the like, and string them, and so wear them for an amulet cast about their neck, & brought about to their armholes.
arm-string'd him, and to scoure off the gore,
In cleansing
Another wise ceremony after murder, to scoure the bloud of the decea­sed, upon this designe, that thereby they might wipe off all anger.
rinc'd the lopt head o're and o're.
Are not these rather expiations spent,
To compound for the murders punishment?
It must not be; wherefore go set 'em down,
And
The custome of offering locks of hair at the tombe of deceased friends, is ancient and frequent: Foc a plain probable reason of it, (if any reason can be given of the encroachmentts of superstition, or any eye so vigilant to ob­serve them) I should suppose that as the Heathens were wont to exalt their passions into Deities; so those actions which are the effects of these perturbati­ons might in processe of time passe into forms of worship Tearing the hair is a'genuine issue of a squalid and discheveld'd sorrow upon the losse of some inward friend. This might have set the copy to those funerall rasures and baldnesses for the dead, prohibited Lev. xix. 27, 28. xxi. 5. Deut. xii. 1.
crop a lock or two from your own crown,
[Page 18]
And from unhappy mine. Alas! poore shifts,
Yet my small stock affords no better gifts.
Present him with this Hair uncomb'd
The Greek is unnnointed, for in our countreys the Puff is more known then the Box of oynt­ment, nei­ther do I think any want of proportion betwixt Anoint thy head, and Pouder thy hair.
unpouderd,
Present him with this Girdle unimbroyder'd;
And falling on your knees, beg that he would
Be our Assistant, to revenge his bloud,
And that his child Orestes come home safe,
Or's enemies the upper hand may have;
That so with richer hands for time to come
Then now we're able, we may crown his Tombe.
I know, I know he thinks on our conditions,
That thus he sends her these ill boding visions.
Wherefore, sweet sister, underhand bestow
Upon your self and me this favour too,
And him who both of us our being gave,
Dearest of souls, though now laid in the grave.
Qu.
'T is all religion that she say's, and you,
Lady, if wise, will as she bids you do.
Ch.
I will: For naked truth needs no dispute
To quarrell for 't, but readinesse to do 't.
But while I this exploit assay, be sure
You keep my counsel, friends, I you conjure:
For if it chance to reach my mothers ear,
I shall attempt a work will cost me dear.
Qu.
1 Unlesse I be much deceived,
2 And of reason quite bereaved,
3 Before is come the Harbinger,
4 Justice self at hand is near,
5 And will shew her dreadfull pow'rs
6 E're time spin out many houres;
7 Some hope there seems
8 When I hear these pleasant dreams.
[Page 19]
9 Nor will Greeces nat'rall Father
10 Ever be forgetfull,
The Greek Scho­liast confes­feth this place to contain a hard expres­sion, that the very instrument should not be unmindfull of that act. But he resolvsit into this meaning, that the very Ax ows Traytours a grudge.
neither
11 Th' ancient Poll-ax Rasor-edg'd
12 With steel

Answerable to this is the Latine name bipennis, however Quintilian devises some other fetch. Simmias the Rhodian hath described the figure of that Ax, wherewith Epêus built the Trojan horse. The generation of an Hat­chet, is by the concourse of two circles, contingent in the centre uf a third oequall circle: as in this figure is plain to the eye.

[diagram of circle and hatchet]

Take a plate of iron infinite, and describe in it a circle at adventures, which let A B C be from any point at any distance: Let the Diameter be drawn, whose extreams let A B be, the Centre D. At the point A, and distance A D, pare off F D E: Again, at the point B, and distance B D, pare off G D H, superfluous cantles of iron, the residue presents you the figure of the double headed Battel-ax. The Helve must be drawn thorough the de of the centre D, and proportion'd to the circle A B C.

wing on both sides fledg'd,
13 Which with opprobrious stroke,
14 Off its Sovereigne took.
[Page 20]
1 And Ir'n hoofd Erinnys couching
2 In dread Ambush is approching,
3 With many a foot, and many a hand,
4 For without or Law or Band
5 In the twice polluted sheets,
6 Lawlesse she loves combate meets:
7 Wherefore I guesse
8 This dream will, will find successe;
9 Both on the Actors and Consenters;
10 Else all dreams come at adventures,
11 And no meahing carrie, though
12 Full of terrour they may show;
13 And Oracles are tales,
14 If this vision fails.
Pelops won his La­die at the match with her father Oenomaus by the deceit of Myrtill his chariot­er: For the Father un­derstanding from the O­racle, that his sonne in Law should slay him, proposed, not to let any one wed her, unlesse he over­come his fleet chariot-horses. Pelops arriving at Pisa, brib's Myrtill to leave out the Axle-pin: So in the way the chariot overthrew, Oenomaus fell, and committing the revenge of his treacherous man to his sonne, expired. Pe­lops having wonne Hippodamia, in lieu of reward, casts the perfidious Myr­till into the Myrtean (as the Greeks feign, deriving from him that name.
O Pelops! in ill weather
Thy Coach came hither;
Thou drov'st with an ill hand
To this same land:
For since Myrtill was laid asleep,
Thrown in the deep,
With cruel base reproch
Or'ethrown with's Coach
Emboss'd with beaten gold,
Wo within wo enroll'd,
Hath dogg'd close
This sad House.
Clyt.
You now it seems are gadding forth agen,
Now Egist is from home, who kept you in,
Lest you abroad your friends should load with lies.
But now he's out o'th way, you me despise.
And many folks you many tales have told,
How I, harsh and outragious cruel, hold
You and yours under, doing you great wrong:
No wrong; I give bad words to a bad tongue.
Now for your Father (that's all you pretend
Alwayes) how he by me came to his end.
By me? I know it well, and will it own,
But Justice took him off, not I alone;
To whom, if wise, your helping hand y' had lent:
For this your Father whom you still lament,
Onely of all the Grecians must proffer
Your sister to the angry gods to offer,
Having in the begetting her not known
My pangs in a hard labour undergone.
Come on now, satisfie me for whose sake
Offer'd he her. The Greeks, you I answer make.
Now, what had they to do my child to kill?
Or to comply with Menelaus will?
Should he slay mine, and look I should sit still?
Hermi­one and Ni­costratus children of Menclaus by Helena.
And had not th' other two, more fitting far
Both of them, to be sacrific'd then her?
Of father born and mother, for whose sake
They did the expedition undertake:
Or did Death long, and had an eager mind,
On mine to banquet, and leave hers behind?
Or did not your base father rather this,
Hate her by me, and Menelaus lov'd his?
Do's not this Sire the fool and vile bewray?
[Page 22]
I think he doth, however you say, Nay.
And the dead, could she speak she would consent:
I therefore at what's done do not repent:
And if I seem to you to think amisse,
Do well to load your friends with calumny's.
El.
You'l not say now that I first went about,
To move your heat, and drew this passion out:
But if you'l give me leave, I'le tell you true
Of my dead Father, and my sister too.
Cly.
I give you leave. This modest dialect
Still us'd, our ready audience might expect.
El.
I tell you then. Your felf professe you spilt
My Fathers bloud. A word of blackest guilt,
Were it by right or not, yet I'le assert
It was not Right, but Love did you pervert
To that lewd Paramour, with whom y'are nought.
Now ask the Huntresse Dian, for whose fault
She in calm Aulis staid the wind-bound Fleet.
Or I'le reply: for her we cannot meet.
My Father once (as I have heard it talk'd)
Sporting i'th holy Grove, rous'd as he walk'd
A spotted, well-brancht Stag, which having kil'd,
And boasting of't by chance, some words he spild,
At which Latona's daughter took offence,
And stop'd the Greeks, nor let them stir from thence,
Till he his Child gave her Beasts recompence.
Thus she was given, nor could the Army come,
On other terms back, or to Ilium:
So that unwilling, when he could no other,
He offered her, and not to please his brother.
But grant it were (as you auerre) to further
[Page 23]
His brother, must he therefore merit murder
At your hands to be executed? By what order?
Take heed lest while you make a new-found Law
You on your felf wo and repentance draw:
For if bloud must with bloud assoyled be,
Vou must die first to seal your own decree.
But see if you coyn not a vain excuse,
For if you please, resolve me why you chuse
Your life in fowl debauchments to abuse,
Which with that Murd'rer lie, with whom together
Plotting before, you made away my Father,
And gendrest with him, but us out dost throw,
The honest issue of a pious vow.
Can I commend you here? is't your pretence,
This too is for your child to make amends?
Fowl answer if it be. No law allows
You should t' avenge a child, a foe espouse:
Nor may we our advice present, but still
Incens'd you cry, our Mother we revile.
But I in your deportment to us find,
More of the Mistris harsh, then Mother kind:
Which lead sad dayes, and old acquaintance date
With woes by you occasion'd, and your Mate.
But poor Orestes now in forreign lands,
That life with which he hardly scap't your hands,
Clo'yd with distresse, consumes; whō you complain
I for your executioner maintain.
Which, were I able, be assur'd I wou'd:
And therefore give it out, if you think good,
That I'me ill natur'd, or unbridled scold,
Or to the depth of impudence am bold:
For if these vertuous qualities I shew,
[Page 24]
I do not much degenerate from you.
Qui.
I see her mov'd but whether justly so
'Tis not within my Judgements Verge to know.
Clyt.
What Course now can I take with her that thus
Is not asham'd her Mother to abuse?
Electra was proba­bly 28. or 30. yeers old as may be gather d from the of­fices of re­scuing and saving her Brother mentioned in her la­mentation over the Urne that followes.
And that at these years too? seem's she not bent,
For all bold mischiefs a fit instrument?
El.
Assure your self I feel an inward shame,
How e're you think: I am advis'd, and blame
My Carriage fit nor for the time, nor me.
But your curst usage and your deeds they be
Malgre my self me to this passe have wrought
For by lewd company, lewd tricks are taught.
Clyt.
O ye Bold Beast, do I or words of mine
Or my deeds you to talk at large encline?
El.
'Tis you talk so not I: you do the deed,
And Deeds by words are but interpreted.
Clyt.
Now by our Lady Dian, you shall mourn
For your bold Tongue when Egist do's return.
El.
See you're enrag'd for all I had your leave
To speak my Mind, nor will attention give.
Clyt.
I shall not offer then for you in Peace,
Since I consented to your tongues release.
El.
You may, you shall; Offer, nor blame my Noyse,
For hear I'll put a period to my Voice.
Clyt.
You that attend take the fruit offerings thence,
That I to th' King may make my Orizens,
To ease my soul, my soul of it's oppressing fear
Phoebus great President of Mycens hear.
[Page 25]
Me softly pray, for enemy's stand by,
Nor may I speak all out while she is nigh.
Lest she with clamours loud and Mind perverse
An idle tale through all the town disperse,
Thus hear thou: thus my praiers conceald prevent:
The apparitions last night did present
In both my dreams, Lycean King, for these
If they be lucky, crown them with successe
On me; if Hostile, on my Enemy's:
Nor if some ill-affected shall contrive
My ruine from this hight, do thou connive:
But in safe Channell glide my peacefull dayes
Holding the royall Halls and royall Mace.
And with the friends I have may I still rest,
Bathing in ease, with my dear pledges blest.
(Bate those Maligne my peace, and sweets infest)
Lycean Phoebus to these prayers lend
An open ear, and a propitious End;
And all things else, though not express'd by me,
Which unto you a god must naked be,
For fit it is Joves seed should all things see.
Tut.
Who can enform one, Lady's, I intreat
If this be Royall Egists Princely seat.
Qui.

This gentle stranger 'tis: Right is your aim.

Tut.
At this his Consort aim I too as nigh?
Her presence personates a Majestie.
Qui.

Resolve you this great Lady is the same.

Tut.
Hail gratious Queen, sweet tidings I commend
From one to you and Egist a near Friend.
Clyt.
Succeed the news, but first acquaint me this,
[Page 26]
What Master sent you with these Embassy's.
Tut.

Phanot the Phocese. High concernment 'tis.

Clyt.
Friend speak it out, you come from a good King,
And a good Message without doubt you bring.
Tut.

Orestes death in one word take it all.

El.

Wo to me wretch, this day compleats my fall.

Clyt.

What is't? what is't my Friend? her cry's ne're heed.

Tut.

Orestes, then and now I say, is dead.

El.

Lost and forlorn I am: I am no more.

Clyt.
Get you about your businesse, but kind friend
Tell me the certain manner of his end.
Tut.
I'll tell you all: my Journey was there­fore.
Arriv'd at Greeces high renowned Came,
To enter in the Delphick lists he came:
Where first the cryer with shrill voyce proclaim'd
The race on Foot: This was the foremost nam'd,
He enters brave: th' amazed Cirque look on,
Nor by his person was his power out-done.
But fleet he scoures the lazy road, and meets
The forward Goal. The Crown his conquest greets
Of many facts, I can relate but few
Who neither his exploits nor Prowesse knew,
Onely take this: When ever race was wag'd,
Or in the

There were 5. more eminent Greek exercises, which are reckon'd up in the latter verse of this Di­stick in the Greek Epigrams by Simonides.

Isthmians and Pythians Diophon Philo's son,
At Race, Dart, Quoyt, Jumping and Wrestling won.
five-encounters Men engag'd:
[Page 27]
One from the rest to bear away the Day
Was still cry'd up: An Argive as they say,
Orestes nam'd; great Agamemnons sonne,
Who levy'd the Greek host of late renown,
Thus farre 'twas so; but if God rayse his arm,
No strength is Heaven-proof to stand the harm.
For he one day when of swift
Chario­tery is one of the antiqua­ted Modes of Chivalry. Heretofore as it was us'd in Triumphs so in field-service and games. This use may well go con­joyn'd: For ordinarily publike sports, either by the policy of the Ma­sters, or the propension of mens affe­ctions main­tain a resem­blance with the Deeds of Arms, of their respective Country's. In the field Chariots of Iron sometimes were used, so denominated from their hooked Fauchions or Sythes speating out of the Axeltree. Those Ammunition Coaches were small as to hold but two, and light timberd Ours are of a heavie bulk, and alwayes employ'd either for ne­cessary portation from place to place, or stately oftentation in solemn processi­ons and Masks.
charriot-horse,
By early Sunne they made a speedy Course
Ent'red the Stage with many chariotiers,
An Achive one: from Spartaeone appears;
Their harnest Barbary's two Lybians driv'd,
(And among them he was himself) a fifth,
Lasht his Thessalick Mares: a sixth one jolts
His ratling Coach with bay Etolian colts.
The seventh a Magnesian: In th' eighth place,
One with white horse, an Enian by race.
The ninth frow Athens, heav'n built was come:
Last, a Boeotian coach fill'd the tenth room.
Standing where by the lot the Masters find,
What rank should to each chariot be assign'd,
At brazen Trump they start, each chiding backs
His slothfull Steeds, the waving rein each shak's:
The plains are deafned by the ratling wheels,
And clouds of dust rise from the horses heels:
Pell Mell they drive: None spare for sting: while each,
At t' others spokes and panting nostrils reach,
[Page 28]
While they put on, the hindmost Courser laves
That's Back, and that the Rut with foamy waves,
But he his outmost axle alwayes led,
Close to the columnes side, and giving head
To the right forehorse, held his fellow streight:
Still all the steady chariots stood upright,
When th' Enians hard-mouth'd steeds in furious sort,
Set on a running, and then turning short,
After the sixth and seventh stage complete,
Their foreheads on che
That is, Lybian.
Barcian Coaches beat,
And as mischances never go alone,
One by another's broke and overthrown:
All the Crisean heath did cover'd lie.
With shatter'd limbs of ship-wrackt Chivalry.
This he of Athens shrowd at's rein espies,
And gently draws aside, so by there flyes
The harnes'd Cataract, tumbling all in heaps.
He drives i'th rear; but still Orestes keeps
His horses last, relying on the end.
But when he sees him onely left behind,
With a shrill lash his nimble steeds revive,
Pursuing swift, and pole by pole they drive,
Poys'd is the game; and if one overlook,
By t' others foreward head he 's overtook.
Th' unhappy Prince, these Posts unoverthrown,
Ʋpright in upright chariot safe had gone,
When he his left rein slackt, and turning Pole,
Fell unawares upon the Column foul;
The Nave asunder splits, and on the Wheels
He pitches down, and drags his hamperd heels
[Page 29]
I'th following Tire, and as he fell along,
The plunging horses through the champion flong:
But when the ring beheld the sweet youth slide
Down from the box, with a shrill shriek they cri'd,
How brave a Prince how bad a fate doth share!
Dragg'd on the ground, then tossing in the aire
His hurri'd legs, till the kind chariotiers
With much ado stopping their mad carriers,
Loosen the bloudy corps, so torn as none
Their friends disfigured countenance could own.
Then forth with certain Phocians order'd, burn
His limbs; and in a little brazen urn,
Conduct the einders of that mighty Name,
That in his Countrey he may buriall claim.
You have it all. Piteous it is to tell:
But had you bin, as we, at th' Spectacle,
In my sight ne're so sad a thing befell.
Qu.
Wo, wo, our ancient Masters forward hope
Wholly, it seems, is Root and Branch stockt up.
Clyt.
O Jove! what's here! is 't Cursednesse or Blisse?
'Tis gain, I grant; yet grievous joy it is,
If mine own sorrows must my life protect.
Tut.

Why Lady, do's this Message you deject?

Clyt.
Child-birth is sharp, and though he prove ungrate,
A Mother yet cannot her own pangs hate.
Tut.

We on an idle errand come, I see.

Clyt.
Not idle neither, how can't idle be,
That you of his decease sure signes have brought,
Who when he was of mine own soul begot,
Revolting from my dugs and nurture, run
[Page 30]
To forreigne Realms; and since he first was gone,
Ne're saw me, but his Fathers murder charg'd
On me, and cruel threatnings hath enlarg'd;
So that nor day, nor night, my sleeps were sweet,
But the next houre I lookt my death to meet;
But now this day is my deliverer
From all my fears of him, my fears of her.
'Twas she, a worse and inmate grief I hous'd,
Which gnaw'd my bones, and my heart-bloud carous'd.
But now, our quiet dayes, without annoy
Survive, nor shall her threats impeach our joy.
El.
Wo's me poor wretch! 't is time thy fall to mourn,
My dear Orestes, who art yet a scorn
To thy reviling Mother; well is this?
Clyt.

No, not with you; but well with him it is.

El.

Give eare, O Justice, and revenge the dead.

Cly.

She hath given eare aright, & wel decreed.

El.

Mock on, for your prosperity now flaunts.

Cly.

You and Orestes ne're will leave these taunts.

El.

Yes, we have left, but cannot make you leave

Clyt.
Good stranger, mayst thou all reward re­ceive,
That thou hast freed us from her brawling tone.
Tut.

Well, I am going then, since that is done.

Clyt.
By no means, Sir, that thought do's nei­ther suit
With your great Lords respect, nor my repute:
But enter in, and let her without door,
[Page 31]
Her own distresses, and her friends deplore
Clytem­nestra car­ries the Tu­tour off the stage, to en­tertain him in her Court
.
El.
Do not you mark how passionate, how wild
Distressed Lady she bewayls her child?
That he is dead, and that he thus should die?
No: she unnat'rall laughs. Unhappy I!
I, who deare Brother, perish in thy fall,
While thou hast bury'd at thy Funerall,
My remnant of low hopes to see the day,
When thy just hand full vengeance should display,
A Fathers death, and Sisters wrongs to pay.
Now where shall I my dolefull footsteps turn,
Who am all desolate, and twice forlorn?
Brotherlesse Orphan. Once more to their check
Whom I most hate, I must submit my neck,
My Fathers Headsmen serve. With me is 't well?
But 't is resolv'd, I will no longer dwell
In these curs'd walls,
Electra layes her down be­fore the gate.
but here before this gate
Laying me down, will fade disconsolate,
And let them, if they take this ill within
Kill me, my slaughter were a courteous sinne,
To live is pain, the light I hate to spinne.
Quir.
1 Where be Joves thunders fled,
2 And Phoebus burnisht head,
3 If this they eye,
4 Like standers by?
El.
5 Ah! wo!
Quir.
6 Lady, why this lament?
El.
7 Oh!
Quir.
8 Be not too vehement.
El.
9 You kill me.
Qu.
10 How?
El.
11 If you with hopes beguil me,
[Page 32]
12 Of those whom plain we know,
13 Fled to deaths region below:
14 My dying light,
15 You even quench out-right.
Qu.
1 Why th'
The Quire en­deavours to comfort her by the ex­ample of Amphiarus who was in like manner betray'd to death by his wife E­riphyle. For he being a footh-sayer fore-knew that if he went to the Thebane warre, he should there die, and hid himself: But Adrastus enticed his wife with the gi­ving her a precious chain, to a discovery of him: And so going against Thebes, with the other Princes, was swallowed up the first day, with his coach and foure horses, by an opening of the earth. Which lewdnesse of his mother, Alcmaeon being brought up to age, expiated, by executing her.
Argive Bard I knew,
2 Whom the gold Bracelet slew,
3 First hid in 's cave.
4 And now in 's grave.
El
5 Ah! wo!
Qu.
6 He's Sovereigne of the dead.
El.
7 Oh!
Qu.
8 Oh truly! for tis sad.
El.
9 He perisht.
Qu.
10 Yes.
El.
11 True, true: for a friend cherisht
12 His Orphan at 's decease;
13 But none vouchsafes my grief to ease:
14 And he that wou'd,
15 Is blasted in the bud.
Qui.
1 Sad Lady you sad things indure.
El.
2 I know't, I know't too sure:
3 Sorrow's crowding, overflowing,
4 Never fading, ever growing.
Qui.
5 We all bear witnesse to your Cry.
El.
O then look you no more
[Page 33]
7 Entice me to give o're.
Qui.
8 What say you?
El.
That exploit now comes into her mind, which she afterwards invites her sister too.
Yet I spy
9 Helpers beside,
10 Hopes of blood royall near ally'd.
Qu.
1 All mortalls death must undergo.
El.
2 In cruel racing too?
3 As, unhappy, he was mangled,
4 In the winding traces tangled.
Qui.
5 It was an unseen misery.
El.
6 Yes, for in forreigne land,
7 Without my carefull hand.
Qu.
8 Alas now!
El.
He must lie,
9 Nor buried,
10 Nor with my tears upon him shed.
Chry.
Wingd with delight, and by sweet plea­sure chac't,
Quitting all decent gate, I hither hast:
For joyfull news I bring, and sure repose
From the long burden of your pressing woes.
El.
Whence can you find a balsome for my heart,
Whose wounds are past the slender cure of art?
Chry.
Oreste's come: take it from me, & know,
'Tis sure as that thou strangely eye me now.
El.
Art mad poor wretch: or dost thou this de­signe,
To laugh at thine own miseries and mine?
Chry.
No, houshold Vesta help me, as no jeer
I mean at all: but he is certain here.
El.
Ah me unhappy! on what mortals breath
Builds thy assurance it's unerring faith?
Chr.
Mine & none others eies my authors were,
Sure signes I saw, and a true message bear.
El.
Poor heart, what surety saw'st thou? from what aim
Striv'st thou to fan my breasts expiring flame?
Chr.
Now for the gods sakes heark, and as you find
Repute me henceforth sound or weak in mind.
El.

Tell on then, if you pleasure take to tell.

Chr.
I will, and nothing that I know conceal.
When I approcht my Fathers ancient stone,
Fresh riv'lets of new milk run trickling down
From th' hillock I descry: and a sweet rownd
Of sev'rall flowers my Fathers ashes crownd.
Seeing I wonder, and I wondring stand
To see the Authour, if he were at hand:
But when I viewd the coast on all sides clear,
Nearer the tombe I stole: whose brinks appear
Strowd all about with locks of new-shorn hair:
Which when, poore wretch, I saw, my active thought
A face well known unto my fansie brought:
I straight presag'd no hand but that alone
Of dear Orestes could this office own.
Taking them up, no blasting curse I band,
But tears of joy in my warm ey-lids stand;
So that both then, and now, I firmly know,
That these devotions none but him can show:
For, bating us, to whom does this pertain?
Now that my act 'tis not I witnesse can;
Nor is it yours: for how could you escape,
Which rue it if but out to Church you step?
[Page 35]
Nor does my mothers heart delight to act
Such works, nor had she carried it untrack'd.
Orestes 'tis; these Honours must designe.
Then, dear, courage: Alwayes the face divine
Views not the same with the same constant shine;
It yet hath frownd on us, and who can tell,
Whether this day much happinesse may seal?
El.

Poore fool! I pitie thee ev'n all the way.

Ch.

What's this? rejoyce you not at what I say?

El.

Thou knowst not where thou stand'st, nor what's thy thought.

Ch.

How know I not that which mine eyes me taught?

El.
He's dead, poore wretch, thy hopes are at an end,
Of aid from him, no more on him depend.
Ch.

Unhappy me! of whom did you this hear?

El.

Of one which when he fell, himself was near.

Ch.

And where is he? amazement strikes my breast.

El.

Bout house; my mothers dear and welcome guest.

Ch.
Unhappy me! vvho vvas he then that gave
Those lib'rall off rings at my Fathers grave?
El.
I am persvvaded some kind hand hath paid
Those sad devotions to Orestes shade.
Ch.
Distressed me! but I vvith joy surprizd
Hastned to bring this vvord, nor once surmizd
In vvhat sad case vve are, but coming vievv,
My ancient Bill of care enflamd with new.
El.
Thus stands your case, but if you'l hear my mind,
[Page 36]
This pressing load of grief you shall unbind.
Ch.

Can I the dead to life raise up again?

El.

There's no such need: I was not sure so vain.

Ch.

What other action can my strength effect?

El.

Dare but to move as I shall you direct.

Ch.

Why if 't be good, I vvill not come be­hind.

El.

See, without pains nothing successe can find.

Ch.

I see: and vvill contribute too my All.

El.
Heark then vvhich vvay my resolutions fal.
Our store of friends, you knovv that none vve have
But all are svvallovv'd by the rav'nous grave.
And onely vve distressed pair survive.
Novv vvhile I heard my brother vvas alive
And flourisht, still, one day, my hopes did rest,
He for his Fathers bloud vvould make inquest.
But since he's gone, to you I turn my eyes,
That vvith your sister joyning enterprise,
You should not novv to execute deferre
Egist our Fathers executioner:
For nought it boots longer my thoughts to stop,
And till vvhen vvill you slug? upon vvhat hope
Not sleighted look you? You indeed may moan.
Of your revenue robd and portion:
And you may grieve vvhich to this ancient day
Unbedded and unwedded wear avvay.
Nay, never must you look these joyes to meet:
For think not Egist is so indisereet,
To suffer once your stock or mine to flourish,
Which vvere his open overthrow to nourish.
But if you vvill my earnest counsel trust,
First to our Fathers and our Brothers dust,
[Page 37]
Perform the Ceremony's of the Dead,
Then as thou'rt nobly born, and nobly bred,
Assert thy Name, & thou a Match shalt find
Of worth, for all to vertue are enclin'd.
But as for fame, you know not what respect,
Obeying me, on us both you reffect.
For who or Friend or Stranger shall us meet,
But will us with this commendation greet?
Mark Dear Companions those two Sisters: those
Who from the Dust redeem'd their Fathers house.
Who when Victorious Treason highest flew,
Spar'd not for life, but the bold rebell slew:
These we must love: these we must reverence all:
And for their Spirit at Feasts and publik Hall,
Receive with Honour Epidemicall.
Thus shall all living us with praises Crown,
So that nor Life, nor Death shall want renown.
Wherefore Dear soul be rul'd your Sire relieve,
Assist your Brother, rescue me from grief.
Rescue your self: Assur'd of this, 'tis base
Well to be born and live in foul disgrace.
Qui.
In such affairs Advice were a good Friend,
To them that Counsell, and them that atend.
Chry.
Now e're she spoke, Lady's, had Vertue reign'd,
She Modesty had kept which now is stain'd.
For on what grounds in desp'rat boldnesse yet
Dresse you your Heart and fain would me abet?
Nor count how you are Woman born not Man,
Inferiour is our Sex, and lesser can;
Then their Prosperity in Spring-tides flow'th,
Ours back is Eb'd and parcheth into Drouth.
[Page 38]
Who then shall plot to stricke off such a Head,
And think to carry it unpunished?
See then lest Bad enough to Worse advance;
If any Ear on these our Counsells glance.
For nought it helps us, nor our stare amends,
To gain good Names, and come to shameful End [...].
For Death is not the worst, but Death to will.
Nor to be able this Will to fulfill.
Now I beseech you e're you root us out
At once, and bring your Family to nought,
Asswage your heat: and all which hath been said;
Unspoke, Undone, shall safely up be laid.
Onely your Spirit check, and learn at length
How weak you are, and then submit to strength.
Qui.
Be rul'd: No treasure Man enjoy's so great
As is a wise Forecast, and mind disere [...]s.
El.
All this before I look't for: I expected
That all which was apply'd should be rejected:
But with my Hand this work alone will I
Archieve: nor will we let out counsells die.
Chry.
Oh—
Would when my Father dy'd your Mind had been
Thus firmly bent; you all had finish't then.
El.

Why then my will was good, but losse my wit.

Chry.

Strive that your wit stand alwayes at that height.

El.

You then instruct me but wil nothing Aid.

Chry.

Why it will bring us ruine if assay'd.

El.

I praise your wondrous Wit, but hate your fear.

Chry.

When you shall thank me for it I'll give ear.

El.

Never expect to find me in that Note.

Chry.

Of that Hereafter gives the surer Vote.

El.

Away, for thou art one wil't nothing do.

Chry.

I would, but thou art one wilt nothing know.

El.

Go tell your Mother the discourse w'have had.

Chry.

No, Sister, yet I love you not so bad.

El.

Know you to great disgrace draw me aside.

Chry.

To no disgrace, but wisedom I you guide.

El.

I follow must what you for Justice read.

Chry.

When you with Judgement joyn, then you shall lead.

El.

Pity one speaks so well, and speaks so wide.

Chry.

Right said you that, to your own speech appli'd.

El.

What seem I not with Justice to combine?

Chry.

Yes but sometime Justice with Harm may Joyn.

El.

I'll never to these lawes Alleagiance pay.

Chry.

But if you do, you'l thank me for't one Day.

El.

Yes I will do, nor will at all you dread.

Chry.

Is 't true? nor will you second Counsell read?

El.

No: for of Bads, the Worst Bad Counsell is.

Chry.

All I have said you understand amisse.

El.

Long fixt is this resolve; no sudden Motion.

Chry.
Then I am gone, for on my words attend.
You will not, nor can-I your works commend.
El
Go in: ne're will I be at your devotion,
Though most you wish it; for 'tis foolish pains,
If we Content pursue, where none remains.
Chry,
This shee speaks as she is walking away.
Why if you think you are so, still be wise;
But when you feel it, you'll praise my Advice.
Qui.
1 Why mark vve the vvise fowl, Above,
2 In Countrey and in Nat'rall love;
3 Where the Dam looks to be fed,
4 Of those she hath born and bred;
5 Nor do like Tribute pay.
6 But if Jove thunder hath,
7 And heavenly Themis wrath;
8 They Carry't not Avvay.
9 Fame dovvnvvard spring,
10 And this dolefull Message ring:
11 In the Dead Atrida's hearings
12 Of these cruell
This Metaphor is elegantly put to expresse a Bickering betwixt friends en­gag'd in one common Cause that should tread in equalsteps, and hear the same Burden. It is taken from the best Author of English, our late Sov [...] ­raign of E­ternall Me­mory, in his Cabinet broke open; pag xxxviii. Numer. to the Queen xxxvii.
interferings,
1 Their House-affairs have long been weak,
2 Their children now in quarrels break:
3 Nor doth long converse as yet
4 Their Divisions Umpire set.
5 Electra still doth float:
6 Poore she betrayd alone,
7 Alwayes her Sire doth moan,
8 I'th Nightingals sad note:
9 Nor cares for Death;
10 But provides to morgage breath,
11 While she those twin-imps destroyeth.
12 In such life what Lady joyeth?
[Page 41]
1 None low of means, and high of place,
2 Endure their honours to debase
3 With scorn. Great Lady, thus
4 You hard afflictions chuse
5 Companions of your Age.
5 Opposing Treasons Rage.
7 At once with double honour crownd,
8 A child both wise and vertuous found.
1 O mayst thou live in wealth and strength
2 Above thine enemies at length,
3 More then thou dost Below!
4 I thee entirely know;
5 Afflicted thou heldst forth
6 High principles of worth:
7 Thou alwayes didst for Pilot own
8 Ʋnmoveable Religion.
Or.
Have we Deare Lady's, been directed right,
And do we on our purpos'd journey hit?
Qu.

What is your search? and whether your desire?

Or.

For Egist, where he dwells I long enquire.

Qu.

You're right, and The Attick laws enjoyned to shew a stranger the way: as Pe­titus in the last Chap. And Buzyges orderd it to be put into their Commination, that those who turned strangers out of their way, should be curs'd publickly through the ci­ty, amongst them that were guilty of other hainous offences. harmlesse your dire­ctour save.

Or.
Who then to those within this errand car­ries,
That here a welcome message for them tarries?
Qu.

Here 's one. if of her Brother news she have.

Or.
Go, Maiden, them within acquaint; At gate
Some men of Phocia for Egist wait.
Qu.
Unhappy me! You come not to evince,
The late report we had by certain signes
Or.
Your talk I know not: But some weigh­ty thing
Touching Orestes, from old Strophius bring.
Qu.

What is it friend? I feel a chilling fear.

Or.
We in small Urn these Funerall reliques bear
In hand, behold it, of Orestes here.
El.
Ay wretched me! Now plain before mine eie,
I see the weight, and feel the misery.
Or.
If for Orestes you a tear let slide,
Know that this pitcher doth his Body hide.
El.
Friend, give me leave, for th' gods sake I am bold,
To take this in my hand, if this him hold:
That o're these ashes I may wail and moan
My self, and all my family undone.
Or.
Come reach it her, who e're she be, for sure
I'll will would never this request precure:
But or some Friend, or else in bloud she's neare.
El.
O thou his monument, who was most dear
The remnant of Orestes soul: how wide
Thy settings-forth, and thy return's divide?
For now my hands can poyse thy empty load,
But, child, I sent thee glorious abroad.
Would I had breath'd my last e're I thee left
To forreigne lands, and sav'd thy life by theft!
[Page 43]
Then hadst thou with thy Sire that day destroy'd,
As Death with Death, so Grave by grave enjoy'd.
But now from home, and vagrant in strange coast,
Without thy Sister, thou art sadly lost.
Nor did with tender hands unhappy I,
Thy loved corse in Barhings purifie:
Nor did I take, as decent rites require.
The dolefull burden from the solemn fire:
But by strange hands laid out, thou dost return
The easie measure of a shallow Urn.
Wretched me! Oh my feeding thee of old
Now comes to nought! For oft I thee did hold,
Nursing with peasant trouble. Thou wert stil'd
Not more at all thy Mothers, then my child.
I was thy Nurse, not they within reputed.
And I thy sister alwayes was saluted.
But all these comforts in one day are dead,
With thee expiring: thou with them art fled.
Thou like a whirl-wind rush'dst: Faln is my Fa­ther:
I from thee perishr: Thou destroy'd together.
The euemy laughs, and wild with joy doth rant
Thy Stop-dame-Mother; which lewd miscreant
Thou oft to me in private message sent,
That thou wouldst bring to condigne punishment.
But all those just resolves, and vews repeated,
Thine, and my angry Angel have defeated,
Which thus to me hath in sad wise convey'd
For thy sweat Face, this dust and uselesse shade.
O me! O me!
O Dolefull corse! Ay! Ay!
O how dismall! Oh me! O me!
[Page 44]
A journey tookst thou, Dearest, to my death,
Thy Sisters death, O soul more dear then breath.
Wherefore thou Me to Thee take in this room,
Nothing to nothing: so for time to come
I'll lodge with thee Below: for thou Above
And I did alwayes equall fortunes prove.
And now I long thy Death and Urn to share:
For I perceive not that the dead take care.
Qu.
Electra, think a Mortall Sire you had,
And Mortall Brother too, nor grieve too bad,
For we are out-law'd all till Death be paid.
Or.
Oh! oh! what shall I say? what strange addresse
Contrive? nor can I longer me suppresse.
El.

What is your grief? what may this lan­guage sound?

Or.

Is yours Electra's visage so renown'd?

El.

This is the same, and in full grievous plight.

Or.

Alas! how sad and pitifull a sight!

El.

Why Stranger, do you thus for me lament?

Or.

O Body wickedly and basely rent!

El.

I, gentle Stranger, am the same you moan,

Or.

O sad unwedded desolation!

El.

Why, Stranger, look you thus on me, & sigh?

Or.

Of all my sorrows I ne're knew the tithe.

El.

How know you that from ought hath now been spoken?

Or.

In seeing you with many troubles broken.

El.

Few of my troubles are to sight disclos'd.

Or.

And how can worse then these be once sup­pos'd?

El.

Because I still with murderers converse.

Or.

Murdrers? of whom? strange grief thou dost rehearse.

El.

My Fathers Murdrers; and am made their drudge.

Or.

What mortall doth thee to this bondage judge?

El.

One Mother cald, but nothing Mother-like.

Or.

And by what means? Doth she thee starve or strike?

El.

Both starvs and strikes, and all hard usage tries.

Or.

And does no Helper, no Defender rise?

El.

None, and my One that was is in your urn.

Or.

Poore heart, I pity all along thy turn.

El.

Know you are th' onely He hath done thus much.

Or.

For I am th'onely He your troubles touch.

El.

You are not any way to us ally'd?

Or.

I'ld you resolve, might I in these confide.

El.

You may; with honest Lady's you conferre,

Or.

Let go the Pot then, and the businesse heare.

El.

Use me not, Stranger, for the gods sake so.

Or.

Obey my words and you aright shall go.

El.

Not for all dears: rob me not of my trea­sure.

Or.

I can you not excuse.

El.
Hard is my mea­sure
If I thy dust, Orestes, must let go.
Or.

Good words. Those grones no lawfull war­rant shew.

El.

No warrant, when I grone for my dead brother?

Or.

Those words do not become you, but some other.

El.

Am I so of the deads inseriours?

Or.

Inferiour you of none: nor is this yours.

El.

If this Orestes body be, I poyse.

Or.

Its no Orestes, but a coyn'd device,

El.

Where then, unhappy, is his tombe indeed?

Or.

No where: For men alive no tombe do need.

El.

What saiest thou man?

Or.

No lie I do contrive.

El.

And does he breath?

Or.

As sure as I'me alive.

El,

You are not he?

Or.
See this my Fathers Seal,
And lern if I other then truth reveal,
El.

O dearest fuce!

Or.

Dearest I witnes bear.

El.

O voyce art come?

Or.

No other seek to hear.

El.

I thee embrace.

Or.

O mayst thou e're from hence!

El.
Dearest companions, fellow citizens;
Behold Orestes by a fiction slain,
And by that fiction safely brought again.
Qu.
Lady, we see. And all our grief to heal.
A tear of joy down from our eyes doth steal.
El.
1 O Noblest, Noblest Progeny
2 Of the most Reverend, to me
3 At length brought back;
4 You come, you find, you see those whom you you lack,
Or.
1 W'are come: But o're us let still silence hover.
El.
2 What is the businesse?
Or.
3 Silence were best, lest they within dis­cover.
El.
1 Now Dian aid,
2 Eternall maid,
3 Of that be ne're afraid.
4 While such a female swarm
5 Still in the house, ring their alarm.
Or.
1 Beware, for women too can warre assay:
El.
1 O joyfull day!
2 Thou haft restord our light,
3 Wrapt up in constant night,
4 In one continu'd West,
5 So were our hearts distrest.
Or.
1 I know this too; but then we will re­flect
2 On these affairs, when season shall direct,
El.
1 All time, all time I do repute
2 My present joyfulnesse to suit,
3 So just, so fit;
4 For never could I speak with freedome yet.
Or.
1 There I consent. Wherefore now keep it safer.
El.
2 By what endeauours?
Or.
3 By not enlarging, while time does not favour.
El.
1 Upon what fear
2 Now you appear
3 Can I to speak forbear,
4 When unwarn'd, unadvis'd,
5 I see thee hither come disguis'd?
Or.
1 Thou seest me when the Gods decree'd my way.
El.
1 Blest news you say,
2 Greater then yet I knew,
3 You tell a joy that's new;
4 If God did guide, I say
5 Auspictous is your way.
Or.
1 Full loth I am to check your joy, but yet
2
The 14. following verses which are full of Female pas­sions, depend upon an un­kindnesse which Ele­ctra takes at this expres­sion.
I fear to pleasure you too much submit.
El.
Thou who didst please though held by long demurre
This pleasant voyage to preferre
Me spouse of sorrows do not thou—
Or.

What should I not?

El.
Do not me disallow
The pleasure of thy presence to declare
Or.

With others I'ld be angry should they dare.

El.

You like me then!

Or.

Why should I o­therwise

El.
O friends a voice
Which I exspected not I heard,
My anger speechlesse was,
And I to cry aloud afeard;
But now I hugge thee; on thy face
A pleasant shine doth sit
Which I though full of care should ne're forget.
Or.
From all impertinent discourses cease:
Nor teach me that debancht my mother is;
That Egist all our Fathers coffers spends;
Wast's some himself, and shares some with his Friends.
The time would passe should we discoursing stand
But what may further the designe in hand
Tell me, how in an hid or ouvert way,
My coming may my laughing foes allay.
And when we enter hold a watchfull eye,
Lest you with chearfull looks your Mother spy,
But to the t [...]le of grief a grone let flie:
For, when our labours have obtain'd the goal,
Then we may laugh and joy without controll.
El.
Well Brother, what may make to your content
Shall be my care: for all my joyes I rent
Deriv'd from you, nor can my Free-hold call;
Wherefore I would not, to your grief though small.
A great advantage reap: For I full ill
Should hearken to my present Angels will.
Nor can you otherwise but know the summe
Of our affairs: How Egist is from home;
But here within my Mother, whom ne're doubt
Lest she my merry countenance find out:
For both in ancient feud I with her burn;
And seeing the pleasure of your safe return,
To drop my liquid joy in plenteous shower,
Nor ever will desist, nor have the power:
For I have the [...] dead and alive beheld
At ene approch, and wonders reconcil'd:
[Page 50]
So that should I my Father meet alive,
Faith unastonisht to the sight I'ld give:
Wherefore your own way, since you are arriv'd.
Lead on; for I had this alone archiev'd,
I had not miss'd what still was in my eye,
Bravely to quit my self, or bravely die.
Or.
Silence I you advis'd. Some from within
I hear is coming forth.
El.
Come, Strangers, in;
For what you bring, can neither forth be kept,
Nor can the taker with delight accept.
Tut.
O Men most vain, and of all wit bereft,
What, of your lives have you no value left?
Or have you not of common sense a tast,
Who do not once conceive how you are plac'd,
Not at the Brink. but in wide hazzards deep!
For had not I light in the house to keep
A faithfull ward, into the inmost room
Before your persons, your designes had come.
But now a sure provision I have made:
Wherefore aside all long discourses laid,
And dangerous joy by lavish shouts bewrayd,
Enter the house: for perill tracks delay,
And expedition here must win the Day.
Or.

How at my entrance are things manag'd there?

Tut.

Right well: for none will know you who you are.

Or.

You then have of my death reporter been?

Tut,

Know you are one of t' other world with­in.

Or.

And are they glad thereat? what words are giv'n?

Tut.
When all is done I'll answer: But untill
All's there, ev'n that which is not well, is well.
El.

Brother, I beg, resolve me what's this man?

Or.

Know you him not?

El.

Nor yet imagine can.

Or.

Know you not whom you gave me in his hands?

El.

Whom? what d' you mean?

Or.
Who to the Phocian lands
Convey'd me secretly, sent by your order.
El,
Is this that man, the onely He of all
Whom I found faithfull at my Fathers fall?
Or.

The same it is: examine me no further.

El.
O dearest face! O onely ransomer
Of Agamemnons house! how camst thou here?
Art thou He which from Death hast him set free,
And me from odious captivity?
Dearest, those hands, and those beloved feet
A sweet embassage bear! Nor did I heed
Thy neere converse, nor wouldst disclose; but flew'st
Me with thy words, when truth most dear, thou knewst.
Hail Father! for methinks I see my Father.
Hail, and know, thee most of all men together,
In one dayes compasse I did hate and favour.
Tut.
Enough: for these discourses made at plea­sure,
The wheeling Nights, with equall Dayes may measure:
Which you Electra thus shall entertain.
But you that here attend, I tell you plain,
[Page 52]
Now action fits: Now the Queen's all alone.
Now there's no man within: But if you drone
Consider how with these, and wiser farre,
Beeing more then these, you must engage in War.
Or.
Pylade, this work no further long delay
Requires, but in we with all speed we may.
And let's our homage offer to the gods
Which in this entrance take up their abodes.
Pylade and Orêstes kneel down and pray. Electra kneels down too in the Court of the house with them.
El.
Here let it not be thought an impertinen­cie, to annex these Corollaryes. That first as the Heathens scatter'd their gods through all high-wayes, and fastened a devotion upon almost every ob­ject; so their adorations were not retir'd from publick view. And again, their shrines were ordinarily in the bounds of places, such as are Borders of Coun­treys, Havens, Corners of streets, and Portals of houses, by which they par­celd forth the Ubiquity of God, and endeavoured to piece out that Omni­presence which exceeds the measure of finite capacities, with the raggs of successive shifting of places. A third observation is which follows.
Sovereigne Apollo, them with favour heare,
And me with them: for I did still appear.
With hand enlarg'd,
The comparing this, with her presents Pag. 18. and her mothers, Pag. 24. shews a sweet contemplation drawn from the Law of Nature, and entire Reason, that the mites of a distressed innocent are more acceptable, then the Baskets of fruits, the Basons of Spies, Gumms and Incense, the Boxes of Oyls, with flagons of Wine, and all other pompous blandishments which dissembling oppressours offer.
according to my power.
And now, Lycean King, I bring my store,
I pray, I prostrate me, I beg. Combine
Thy aid propitious in this great designe.
And then the unbelieving world shall see,
What due rewards the gods to vice decree.
Qu.
1 See how Mars breathing hostile blood,
2 Before is tasting of his food,
[Page 53]
3 And enter'd rove within the house
4 The chasers of facts villaxous
5 The Hounds below!
6 So that not farre behind doth go
7 That which my mind did long fore-know.
1 For in the house brought from the dead,
2 The Judge in a disguise doth tread,
3 His Fathers rich and ancient seat,
4 Grasping in hand his blade new whet:
5 And Maia's son,
6 Close Merc'ry leads them, putting on
7 A myst to th' last, nor tarry's till anon.
El.
Lady's most dear, The men within dis­spatch
The bus'nesse, here do you with silence watch.
Qu.

How? Now what do they?

El.
While she do's provide
A cauldron for the dead, they stand beside.
Qu.

And why did you come out?

El.
To stand a guard,
Lest Egist enter in and ne're be heard.
Clyt.
Ah! Ah! Wo! the House
Widow'd of Friends, and seiz'd upon by Fiends!
El.

One cri's within, do you not hear my friends?

Qu.
1 I a dismall hearing heard,
2 Made unhappy me afeard.
Clyt.
1 O me forlorn! Egist, where art thou? gone.
El.
2 Look, one cri's out again.
Clyt.
O son! O son!
3 Pity thy Mother.
El.
But I'me sure nor He,
4 Nor his own Father, pity'd were by thee.
Qui.
1 Wretched City; wretched House,
2 Now the Fate of old thine own
3 Thee into waste ruines throw's
4 Down, Down.
1 Clyt.

Oh! I am stab'd!

El.

Courage and mend your blow.

Clyt.

Oh! and again!

El.

Would Egist were so too!

Qui.
1 The Curses prove. They breath
2 Whom Earth had lodg'd beneath:
3 For he which long ago was dead, now drains,
4 Channels of Blood from out the Murderers veyns.
El.
1 So they come forth, his Crimson hand doth wreak
2 With Wars oblation; But I cannot speak
3 How are things carry'd?
Or.
Things with­in are wrought
4 Well if Apollos wisedom well hath taught,
5 The Wretch is Dead; Henceforth all Fear displace,
6 Your Mothers spight ne're shall you more dis­grace.
Qui.
1 Peace! for I discover cleare,
2 Egist do's in sight appear.
El.
1 Lady's, what not retire?
Or.
Do you perceive
2 The Man at Hand?
El.
He doth the suburbs leave
[Page 55]
3 With Jocond pace —
4 —
Qui.
1 In the House: go Ambush'd sit,
2 With all present speedinesse:
3 Those things hitherto have hit
4 May these!
Or.
1 Rest quiet we perform your will.
El.

Then hast.

Or.
2 I'me lodg'd.
El.

My charge be o're these actions plac'd

Qui.
1 'Twere best a while picquere,
2 And buzze into his ear
3 Some idle tale; and play the fish, that so
4 He unawares may rush on judgements blow.
Egist.
1 The Phocian strangers which of you can shew's
2 Who of Orestes death they say bring news,
3 That he was cast away i'th Chariet-wrecks?
4 Can you? or you? or can you I must ask
5 That were so fierce before: for you I take
6 Here most concern'd, and best report can make.
El.
Electra in all heran­swers now onely mocks with a dou­ble meaning play's upon hisignorance to baffle him while things are set in or­der with in.
Know it! how should I lesse? or I should An utter Alien to my dearest grief.
Eg.

Resolve me where one may the strangers live find

El.

Within: for they've met with their Hostes kind.

Eg.

And did they say for certain he was Dead?

El.

No, (but they shew'd him too) not onely said.

Eg.

And may we see this plain convincing light?

El.

You may: your self will pity much the sight.

Eg.

Much joy thou tell'st me of besides thy wont.

El.

Encrease your joy if this for joy you count!

Eg.
Silence I will you, and the Gates unfold,
That Argives and Mycenians may behold:
That so if any with presumption spread,
Hath stuff't his Sayles, seeing the Prince is dead
He may my Curb endure, and henceforth fear
Least condemn, his haughty Head to rear.
El.
My duty is perform'd: for I late wit
Have got, and can to power now submit.
Eg.
The Body of slain Cly­temnestra is drawn forth vayled into the Stage, re­presented to Egist as the Corse of O­restes.
O Jove! A sight I see with sorrow clo'yd,
But whether judgements hand I not decide.
Withdraw the Vayle that even I may shed,
A tear upon my Kinsman that is dead.
Or.
Take it your self. 'Tis not mine but your own
To look upon, and with kind words to mean.
Eg,
'Tis right, I will: But some of you 'bout House
Go Clytemnestra hither call to us.
Or.

She is hard by you; look no further for her.

Eg.
He disin­velops it.

Oh! what see I?

Or.

Whom look you on with horrour?

Eg.
What Men have me within their nots en­clos'd
At unawares?
Or.
Have you not that suppos'd,
How you alive talk with the Dead thus free?
Eg.
Alack, I take the word. It cannot be,
But this Orestes is, who talks with me.
Or.

You out so long and such A Cunning Man!

Eg.
Wretch I am lost: yet let me this obtain
Hear one word.
El.
Brother, do not, I beseech
Let him go on, and spin a teadious speech.
For wherein is a Dying Man reliev'd
If he one grievous Minute be repriev'd?
But kill him out of hand, and being kil'd,
Give him the Bury all of the open field
Out of our sight: for onely this will lose
The sad remembrance of my ancient woes.
Or.
Get you in quickly: For you now Com­mence
An Execution and no defence.
Eg.
Why do you hale me in? if this be fair
Why lacks it Night, and dreads the open Air?
Or.
Appoint you not. But to the Chamber hy
Where you my Father kil'd and there Come die.
Eg.
Is it ordein'd that that same Room must see
The Pelops Ills that are, and Are to be.
Or.

It must yours. I of that give a shrowd guesse.

Eg.

Your Fathers honour you do not professe.

Or.
You much dispute, but go but slowly on.
Advance.
Eg.

Go first.

Or.

No you must lead the van.

Eg.

Shall I not scape you.

Or.
I must now beware
All ease that you a bitter death may share.
'Twere fit this Martiall law did still prevail,
That who so durst transgresse the statutes pale,
Might streight be kild, for villains soon would fail.
Qui.
Atreus seed how hard opprest,
Art thou at length arriv'd at rest
by this Assay redrest!
THE END.

THE EPILOGUE: Shewing the Parallell in two Poems, THE RETƲRN, and THE REST AƲRATION, Addressed to her Highnesse, the Lady ELIZABETH. MDCXLIX.

THE RETƲRN. To Her Highnesse, the Ladie ELIZABETH.

BRight Saint,
Just Heaven hath seen thy Tears:
Thy Brother on our Isles appears.
Request and Sorrow now leave off,
When glad Enjoyment sayes, Enough.
Let no sad Thought take from the grace
Of a serene and full-blown Praise.
Looks over-cast but ill do suit,
The Royall Stranger to salute.
Honour with mirth now reconciles:
Reject not those officious smiles
Which hover yet aloof, and seek
To perch upon your lovely cheek.
MADAM,
Lift up your pleasant eye,
In yonder Nook sits Majestie.
Our Sov'reigne at that Spot begun
Three Kingdoms just Possession.
Thus a received Turf doth yield,
Full seisin of its native Field;
And from that streight and distant sphear,
Weighs and directs his free Carier.
As first the early point of Day,
Aloof does but the Earth survey,
But streight the dark profound invades,
And chases out the flying shades.
There he debates what ready way,
A glorious Entrance to assay.
The num'rous sinners he descry's
Parted by Seas and Enmiti's.
He sees, and so do the sage States,
That as their Fear, their Love abates:
Because, though their grim Horsemen tread
Upon the quaking Countreys head;
Though they our lives hang at their beck,
And a stiff yoke about our neck;
Though they can spoil without Consent,
Yet e're they rule we must Indent:
Force can but in a Rape engage,
'T is Choice must make it Marriage.
Hence a Conveyance they contrive,
Which must on us their Cause derive:
This must attaque, what holds out still,
And is impregnable, the Will.
This must enchant our conscious hands,
To slumber in like guilty bands,
While like the froward Miltonist,
We our old Nuptiall knot untwist:
And with the hands, late faith did joyn,
This Bill of plain Divorce now signe.
Here their New Kingdom must commence,
And Sinne conspire with Conscience.
This spills our Bloud lost in just warrs,
And brands with Shame our honest Scarrs:
His Fathers murder this commends,
And crowns it with its plotted ends.
His Sacred Person this assayles,
And the dire Regicide entayles.
He, the bold Blank defi'd discerns,
And Malice but his Laughter earns;
So what they for fresh lists devise,
Into their thin short Kingdome pry's.
Next he the Realm views in all parts
Shut on Him, but the Peoples hearts.
While his approach new warmth doth shed
On those Desire had massacred.
His double Righteousnes all draws
That of Himself, that of his Cause:
His Person Signatures presents
Where King and Conquest pitch their tents;
Taller, then Palms, whose humble Top,
Do's to his lofty Temples stoop.
And pays a tributary Bough;
To bind on his Victorious Brow.
Then Beacons plac'd on Mountains, those
Mountains which HER late Prince outgrows
A valiant Black his Brow doth wear,
Our reverence; but Traytours fear:
His look speaks out, it was design'd,
Subjects to conquer, not to find.
Which Heat, lest we should fear his Ray's,
The Fathers Clemency allay's;
See how our heaving Souls enlarge!
See how fresh Spirits our strength surcharge!
Till in his Banner wrapp'd we prove,
Nothing so strong as loyall Love:
And touch'd from Heaven with holy flame
His Throne we plant, his Foes we tame.

THE REST AƲRATION. To Her said Highnesse,

GReat Princesse,
Then the Royall Nun,
Shall find her Husband in her Son.
And take, since mourning weeds must cease
Beauty and Honour for her dresse.
Her love impregnable did stand,
Against the Sea, against the Land.
While her Lord griev'd, she scorn'd delight,
Companion of his Bed and Flight.
She thought it Dutifull to claim
A Portion in her Husbands shame.
Wherefore our streets when she shall passe,
Proud Matrons shall empale the wayes:
And as she walks her pious Ey's,
Our easie Dames will Catechize.
Thy Prison too shall then fly ope,
And ripe deliverance kisse Hope.
Here Thy free sight at large shall rove,
And Thou if but look up Above,
Thy Brother in his Throne shalt eye
Burnish't in a full Majestie.
About his Seat at each just Hand,
A bright Array of Peers shall stand.
Not such who take up their high Name,
On credit of some dalliant Dame:
These in mean Lusts spend their cheap Age,
Nor ought degen'rate from the Page.
Hence, they at rates low as their wit,
Can their usurped Honour quit.
For though an Apparition gay,
May ruffle in the milky way.
Taking acquaintance with the star's,
Like one of their familiar Peers:
Nay may rant down the lesser fry,
Like Younger Brothers of the sky;
And boasting of his richer light,
First Cozen to the Sun should write:
Yet if he shall his Orb resigne;
Shut up his Windows; cease to shine;
If his assumed Beauty's smoot;
And through the empty Hollow shoot;
Scattering all along the air,
His periwig of yellow hair;
Till he the lower Region plough,
And takes his bed up in a slough:
The Gazer that did late admire
His flagrant robes, and Tissue fire,
That then the Gallant did reherse
Amidst the sparkling Courtiers,
When he perceivs his borrow'd Lamp
With its exhausted Oyl to damp;
Soon tracks the Cheaters sordid birth
From some dull Commoner of earth.
This Arm o'th sea of light mistook,
Dry'd up, proves Land-waters and Brook.
Our Lords their own clear line make good,
Mark'd out by loyall Parents blood,
Which the unspotted Plumes doth lave,
That on their Crowned Temples wave:
They vouch their True and High Extraction,
By constant Faith, by noble Action.
Then let thy meek Affection bow,
To view and glad our Realm Below.
Here from a Popular bondage freed
The Countrey shall list up her head;
The Whip and Yoke now under hoof,
She kissing the sost rein of love,
VVith thankfull mirth aloud shall ring,
Preferr'd to serve her gracious King.
Thou shalt one spotlesse joy behold,
By no allaying sigh controll'd.
Thus mark in Halls of great resort,
At Penshurst, or some Princes Court,
If my Lords angry Gentlemen
(The Upper House of his great train)
Or some big Steward shall crush down
His Fellows with perpetuall frown;
The House, because he domineers,
And Takes upon him o're his Peers,
Think the Yoke too hard to be born;
Not for the Burden, but the Scorn.
When if the wiser Lady soon
Spy and remove the grief, anon
You may a chearfull duty see,
Flit through the busie Family.
No Monster is so much abhorr'd,
As an Inferiour surly lord.
The Villagers their knees shall bow,
Not aw'd by a stern troopers brow:
As Larks upon their Pestles squat,
If but one daring Hobby bayt.
Nor shall this Care their gladnes spoyl,
How they to be undone must toyl.
The VVealthy Citie shall give thanks
In decent State, and Rev'rend ranks:
Not offring up constrained Rites,
Amidst Church-driven Proselytes.
No lip a faint Amen shall say,
VVhile the Recusant Heart would, Nay.
The Heart whose pensive strings are wrackt,
VVith stock decay'd, and credit crackt:
For draining taxes more unsluce
Their gains, then doth blood-thirsty Use.
VVhile they a thin subsistence beat,
Manur'd by Perjury and Sweat,
Tacking a fortune up, untill
Themselves, the last of VVares they sell,
For unseen starres and Countreys bound,
VVhere no Wise Parliament is found;
For where the savage Ethiop fries,
No pineond Dragon is so Wise.
Our welcome Exiles home shall flee:
Our waiting Captives be set free.
From obscure Denns, from untrackd Caves
The retir'd Clere shall break their graves:
And from Contempt reformd put on
Glory and resurrection.
The Sons of VVisdome shall release
Their patient Spirits into meek peace;
Each reassuming his old Care,
Seated in a becoming Chair;
Hoary their Heads, their Tongue discreet,
Open their Hands, spotlesse their Feet.
When thou beholdest this rich Joy,
Embased by no sad Alloy;
Then mix thy Note and with one Quire,
Let our free Souls in Praise aspire.
FINIS.

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

Various Histories, with curious Discourses in Humane Learning, &c.

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

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

  • 35 A Manuall of private Devotions and Meditations for every day in the week, by the right reverend Father in God, Lancelet Andrews late Lord Bishop of Winchester, in 24 o. newly printed.
  • 36. A Manuall of Directions for the Sick, with ma­ny sweet Meditations and Devotions, by the right reverend Father in God, Lancelot Andrews, late Lord Bishop of Winchester, in 24 o, newly printed.
  • 37. Ten Sermons upon severall occasions, preached at St Pauls Cross, and elswhere, by the right reverend [Page]Father in God, Arthur Lake, late Lord Bishop of Bath and Wells, in 4 o.
  • 38. Six Sermons upon severall occasions, preached at Court before the Kings Majesty, and elsewhere, by that late learned and reverend Divine, John Donne; Dr. in Divinity, and Dean of St. Pauls London, in 4 o.
  • 39 A Key to the Key of Scripture, or an exposition with notes upon the Epistle to the Romans, the three first chapters, by William Sclater, Dr. in Divinity and Minister of the word of God at Pitmister in So­mersetshire, in 4 o.
  • 40. Pretious promises and priviledges of the faith­full, written by Richard Sibbs, Dr in Divinity, late Master of Katharine Hall in Cambridge, and Preacher of Grayes Inne London, in 12 o.
  • 41. Sarah and Hagar, or the sixteenth Chapter of Genesis opened in nineteen Sermons, being the first legitimate Essay of the pious labours of that learned, Orthodox, and indefatigable Preacher of the Gos­pell, Mr. Josias Shute. B. D. and above 33 yeares Re­ctor of St Mary Woolnoth in Lombardstreet, in Folio.
  • 42. Christs Teares with his love and affection to­wards Jerusalem, delivered in sundry Sermons upon Luke 19. v. 41, 42. by Richard Maden, B.D. Preacher of the Word of God, late of Magdalen Colledge in Camb. in 4 o.
  • 43. Ten Sermons preached upon severall Sundays, and Saints dayes, by Peter Hausted Mr. in Arts, and Curate at Ʋppingham in Rutland, in 4 o.
  • 44. Eighteen Sermons preached upon the Incar­nation and Nativity of our blessed Lord and Savi­our Jesus Christ, wherein the greatest mysteries of Godlines are unfolded, to the capacity of the Weak­est Christian, by John Dawson Own. in 4 o.
  • 45. The History of the Defenders of the Faith, dis­coursing the state of Religion in England during [Page]the Reign of King Henry 8. Edward 6. Queen Mary, and Queen Elizabeth. by C.L. in 4 o.
  • 46. Christian Divinity, written by Edmund Reeve Batchelour in Divinity, in 4 o.
  • 47. The Communion-Book Catechism expounded by Edmund Reeve Batchelour in Divinity, in 4 o.
  • 48. The true and absolute Bishop, wherein is shew­ed how Christ is our only Shepheard and Bishop of our soules, by Nicholas Darton, Master in Arts, in 4 o.
  • 49. A description of the New-born Christian, or a lively pattern of the Saint militant, child of God, wrirten by Nicholas Hunt, Master in Arts, in 4 o.
  • 50. Divine Meditations upon the 91. Psalm, and on The History of Agag King of Amalek, with an Es­say of Friendship written by an honourable person, in 12 o.
  • 51. An Historicall Anatomy of Christian Melan­choly, by Edmund Gregory. Oxon. in 8 o.
  • 52. Lazarus his Rest, a Sermon preached at the Funerall of that pious, learned, and Orthodox Di­vine, Mr. Ephraim Ʋdall, by Thomas Reeve, Batchelour in Divinity, in 4 o.
  • 53. The Survey of Man, in a Sermon as it was delivered by Mr. John Bishop at his Fathers funeral, in 4 o. Printed 1652.

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

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

Books newly printed this present year for Humphrey Moseley.

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

Books printed this Tearm for Humphrey Moseley.

  • 118. Poems and translations, the Com­pleat Workes of Thomas Stanley Esquire, in 8 o. 1653.
  • 119. Herodian of Alexandria his Imperial History of twenty Roman Caesars and Empe­rors of his time, first written in Greek, now converted into an Heroick Poem by C. B. Stapleton in 4 o. 1653.
  • 120. Grammatica Burlesa, or a new English Grammer, made plain and easie for Teacher and Scholar, composed by Edward Burles Mr. of Arts and School-master at East-Acton in Midlesex, in 12 o. 1653.
  • [Page]121. Sions Prospect in its first view, presen­ted in a Summary of Divine truths, consen­ting with the faith professed by the Church of England, confirmed from Scripture and Reason, composed by Mr. Ro. Mossom Minister.
  • 122. Quaestio Quodlibetica, or a discourse whether it be lawfull to take Ʋse for Money, by R. F. Knight in 12 o. 1653.
  • 123. Historical Relations of the Vnited Pro­vinces of Flanders, written in Italian by Car­dinall Bentivoglio, and now rendred into Eng­lish by the Right Honorable Henry Earl of Monmouth, in Fol. 1653.
  • 124. Choice Novels and Amorous Tales, written by the most refined witts of Italy, newly translated into English by a Person of Quality, in 8 o. 1653.
  • 125. Nissena, an excellent new Romance, written Orignally in Italian, and now Eng­lished by an Honorable Person, in 8 o. 1653.
  • 126. The Changeling, written by Thomas Middleton and W. Rowley, Gent. in 4 o. 1653.
  • 127. Paradoxes, Problems, Characters &c. by Dr. Donne D. of St. Paul's, to which is added a Book of Epigrams, written in Latin by the same Author; translated by Jasper Main D. D.
  • 128. Ignatius his Conclave a Satyr written by Dr. Donne Dean of St Paules.
  • 129. Essayes in Divinity by Dr. Donne D. of St. Paul's, before he entred into holy Orders.

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

  • 130. Six new Playes, viz.
    • The BROTHERS.
    • The SISTERS.
    • The DOUBTFULL HEIR.
    • The IMPOSTURE.
    • The CARDINALL.
    • The COURT SECRET.
    By James Shirley, Gent. in 8 o. Being all that ever the Author made for the Private house in Black-Fryers.
  • 131. The Sinners Teares in Meditations and Prayers, by Thomas Fettiplace of Peterhouse Cam [...]. in 12 o.
  • 132. The Naturall and experimentall Hi­story of Winds written in Latine by the right Honorable Francis Lord Verulam Viscount St. Alban, translated into English by an admirer of the learned Author, in 12 o.
  • 133. The Card of Courtship, or the Lan­grees, Sexes, and Conditions, in 12 o. 1653. guage of Love, fitted to the Humors of all De-
  • 134. Renatus des Cartes's Excellent Compen­dium of Musick with Necessary and Judici­ous Animadversions Thereupon by a Person of Honor, Illustrated with divers figures. 1653.
  • 135. Naturall & divine Contemplations of the Passions and facultyes of the soul of man in three books, written by Nicholas, Mosley Esq;

These Bookes I doe purpose to Print very Speedily.

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

This keyboarded and encoded edition of the work described above is co-owned by the institutions providing financial support to the Text Creation Partnership. Searching, reading, printing, or downloading EEBO-TCP texts is reserved for the authorized users of these project partner institutions. Permission must be granted for subsequent distribution, in print or electronically, of this EEBO-TCP Phase II text, in whole or in part.