The chorus at the conclusion of the first act thus depicts the fate of Tantalus.
"With empty throate standes Tantalus begylde,
Aboue thy wicked head their leanes to thee,
Then Phineys fowles inflight a swifter pray,
With turned bowes declynd on euery syde,
And of his fruites all bent to beare the sway.
The tree eludes the gapes of hunger wyde,
Though hee full greedy feede theron would fayne,
So oft deceyu'de neglectes to touch them yet;
He turns his eyes, his iawes he doth refrayne,
And famine fixt in closed gummes doth shet:
But then each braunch his plenteous ritches all
Lets lower downe, and apples from an hie
With lither leaues they flatter like to fall
And famine styrre, in vayne that bids to trye
His handes; which when he hath rought forth anone
To be beguyld, in higher ayre againe
The haruest hanges, and fickle fruit is
Then thirst him greeues no lesse then hungers payne: Wherwith when kindled is his boyling bloud
Lyke fyre, the wretch the waues to him doth call That meete his mouth; which straight the fleeyng floud Withdrawes, and from the dryed foorde doth falle, And him forsakes that followes then. He drinkes The dust so deepe of gulfe that from him shrinkes."
A speech by Atreus, in the third act, describing a portion of his revengeful cruelty, thus begins:
"Entrapt in trayne the beast is caught and in the snare doth fall,
Both him, and eke of hated stocke with him the ofspryng all,
About the father's syde I see; and now in saufety stands
And surest ground my wrathfull hate, now comes into my hands
At lengthe Thyestes; yea hee comes and all at once to mee:
I scant refrayne my selfe, and scant may anger brydled bee.
So when the bloud hound seekes the beast, by step and quick of sent
Drawes in the leame, and pace by pace to wynde the wayes hee went,
With nose to soyle doth hunt, while he the boare alooffe hath founde
Farre of by sent, he yet refraynes and wanders through the grounde
With silent mouth; but when at hand he once perceuies the pray,
With all the strength he hath he striues with voyce, and calls away
His lingring maister, and from him by force out breaketh hee,
When ire doth hope the present bloud, it may not hydden bee,"
The thyrd tragedy of L. Annaevs Seneca: entituled
Thebais, translated out of Latin into Englishe by
Thomas Newton,* 1581.
A few lines from the speech of Antigone, when her father Edipus would have him leave her, will suffice.
"No, though the worlde went all on wheeles; though Ioue should from aboue
Hurle flashing flakes vpon the earth, all shall not quayle my loue.
No, though his thumping thunderbolt (when wee togeather stand)
Should light betweene vs, whereas we are plighted hand in hand,
Yet wil I neuer thee forsake, but hold my handfast still;
Therefore its booteles, father deare, to countermand my will
In this my full resolved mynd. Forbid me if you please,
But surely I wil be your guide in weale, woe, dole, & ease.
And maugre all your sharpe reprofes (though much against your mind)
I will direct your steppes and gate, that your way may fynd, Through thick & thinne, through rough & smoth, I wil be at an ynch; In hill and dale, in wood & groue, I'le serue at eu'ry pinch."
The fourth and most rothfol tragedy of L. Annaevs Seneca, entituled Hippolytvs, translated into Englishe, by Iohn Studley.+
* Born about 1540-50. Ob. May 1607.
Killed in Flanders, 1587. Chetwood.
From the chorus at the end of the second act.
"Hippolytvs euen as the rageing storme away doth fly,
More swift than whirling westerne wynde vptumbling cloudes in sky, More swift then flashing flames, that catch their course with sweep
When stars ytost with whisking windes long fiery drakes display.
Fame (wondring at of aldertime our auncestours renowne)
Farewell with thee, and beare away olde worship from our towne.
So much thy beauty brighter shines, as much more cleare and fayre,
The golden moone with glorious globe full furnisht in the ayre
Doth shine, when as the fiery tips of wayning hornes doe close,
When lifting vp her fulgent face in ambling waine she goes,
Vpon her nightwatch to attend, the starres of lesser light
Their darckned faces hide, as hee the messenger of night,
That watchword geues of th' euening tide and Hesperus hee hight;
That glading earst was bath'de in seas, and hee the same agayne,
When shades be shrunck, doth then the name of Lucifer obtayne."
Oedipus, the fifth tragedy of Seneca, Englished the yeare of our Lord M. D. LX. By Alexander Nevyle.*
This play has an Epistle Dedicatory addressed "to the Right Honorable Maister Doctor Wotton, one of the Queene's Maiestie's Priuy Counsayle;" which describes the translatour as only sixteen, and in a preface to the reader he states "his author in word and verse somewhat trasformed, though in sense little altered; and yet oftentimes rudely encreased with mine owne simple inuention, more rashly (I co fesse) than wisely, wishing to please all; to offend none."
The chorus at the end of the first act, gives minute particulars of the misery arising from the wrath of the gods.
"Nothing, alas! remaynes at all in wonted old estate,
But all are turned topset downe, quight voyd and desolate;
The fainting horse for sodayne paine from back his burden tats,
And after on his maister's brest his liueless lyms he squats;
Who cries for help; but all in vain the beastes in field that bide
Vnkept, vnknowen wayes and paths do raunge and ouerstride.
The bull for lacke of foode and meate in field all faintyng lyes,
And all his flocke dispersed quight, the sely shephard dyes.
The herdman eke amongst his beasts his fatal breath expiers,
And to the heuens with piteous cries commends his last desiers.
The harts without all feare of wolues do lyue in wretched peace,
The rage, and wrathful roring sounds of ramping lions cease;
The vengeaunce wyld outragious beares are now as tame as sheepe,
The vgly serpent that was wont the rocky dennes to keepe,
Oft quaffing poisoned venom sups in inward heat she boyles,
And all inflam'd and schorcht, in vayne for lenger lyfe she toyles.
The woods are not adourned now, with fresh and lyuely hue,
The wonted shades are gon. All things are quight out of their queu!
No greenish grasse on ground doth grow, the earth no moisture
The vine withouten any sap his drowsy head down drowpes.
What shall I say? All things alas are writhen out of course,
And as they seeme to me are lyke to fare still worse and worse.
O mighty God aboue! When ende these euer duryng yls?
When cease these plages that giltles bloud thus fierce and raging spils?
I thinck but we, almost alyue there do no men remayne,
Whom dolful darts of destenies on earth haue left vnslayne;
I thinke the darcksome shades of hell where filthy fluds do flow
Where plages and vile diseases too, where dredfull horrors grow,
And all the furies brasten loose do mischiefs on vs throw,
With botch and blaine of sundry kindes which sothern blasts do blow,
And wrekful vexed hagges of hell do breath and on vs bringe:
The angry fendes of hell I thinke their vengeaunce on vs flinge,
And out their mortall poyson spue which they agaynst vs beare!
Lo see how greedy death on vs with scowling eyes doth leare;
See, see, Oh Ioue! howe fast hee throwes his dartes; not one he
But all confounds, his thretning force withstand no creature dares,
No doubt, the lothsome feryman the sinfull soules that traynes, Through stincking fluds, his labour loths that he for vs sustaynes, Such presse by plumps to him is made which still renews his
But harke yet monsters more then these, the fame abroade doth fly
That hellishe dogges wt bawling sound were heard to howle and cry,
And yt the ground with trembling shooke, and vnder feete did moue,
And dreadful blasing comets bright were seen in skies aboue;
And gastly shapes of men besides to wander on the ground,
And woods, and trees on euery syde, did fearefully resound;
Besides all this strange ghosts were seene in places where they stoode
And ryuers more than one, or two, that ran all blacke goord bloode;
O cruell plague! O vile disease! farre worse then speedy death;
O wee vnhappy thrise and more, who doe prolonge our breath!"
The sixte tragedie of the most grave & prudet author
Locios Annæævs Seneca entituled Troas, with diuers and sundrye additions to the same by lasper Heyvoood.
An Address to the Reader, considers the writer, will be accused of arrogance in attempting to give in English the flower of all writers, Seneca, when so many fine wits and towardly youth are at that time flourishing. The several additions are noticed, and the favour requested for his beginnings. The argument is in thirteen seven-line stanzas: as a specimen of Heywood's original composition the first five are taken.
"The ten yeares siege of Troy, who list to heare,
And of th' affayres that there befell in fight;
Reade
ye the workes that long since written were,
Of th' assaultes, and of that latest night,
When turrets toppes in Troy they blased bright;
Good clerkes they were that haue it written well,
As for this worke, no word therof doth tell,
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