A New Enterlude of Vice Conteyninge, the the Historye of Horestes with the cruell reuengment of his Fathers death vpon his one naturall Mother

Document Type	Modernised
Code	Pik.0001
Bookseller	William Griffith
Printer	William Griffith
Type	print
Year	1567
Place	London

A New

Interlude of Vice Containing the History of Horestes with the cruel

revengement of his Father’s death upon his one natural Mother.

The

players’ names

The names devided for six to play

The first: the Vice and Nature and Duty.

2. Rusticus, Idumeus, Soldier, Menelaus and Nobles

3. Hodge, Counsel, Messenger, Nestor and Commons.

4. Horestes, a woman and Prologue.

5. Haulltersicke, Soldier. Egisthus, Herald, Fame, Truth and Idumeus.

6. Hempstrynge, Clytemnestra, Provision and Hermione.

Imprinted at London to Fleet Street, at the sign of the Falcon by Wylliam Gryffith, and are to be sold at his shop in S. Dunstons Churcheyearde. Anno. 1567.

The Vice

A Sirra nay soft, what? let me see,

God morrow to you sir, how do you fare?

Sante a men. I think it will be.

The next day in the morning, before I come there

Well forward I will, for to prepare,

Some weapons and armour, the catives to quell,

I’ll teach the hurchetes, again to rebel.
Rebel? ye sir, how say you there to?
What? you had not best their parts to take:
Hold the content fool, and do as I do,
Or else me chance, your pate for to ache.
Ye and that’s more, for fear thou shalt quake,
Before Horestes, when in good south he

Shall arrive in this land, revenged to be:
Well forward I will, things to purvey,
In good south for the wares, as I shall think good.
Fare well good man dotterell, and mark what I say,
Or else it may chance you, to seek a new houd:
You would eat no more cakbread, I think then by the roud,
If that, that same poulle from your shoulders were hent,
You would think you were ill, if so you were shent.

Hear entreth Rusticus and Hodge.

Rusticus

Chyll never nabore hodge, have a glade heart,

Till Egisthus the King, hath for his desarte:

Received due punishment, for this well I know,

Horestes to Crete, with Idumeus did go.

When his father was slain, by his Mother most ill,

And therefore I think, that come heather he will:

And revenge the injury, of his mother most dear,

wasting our land with sword, and with vyare.

Hodge

Iesu nabor, with vyar and sword? zaye you ze?

By gys nabor, chyll zaue one I tro:

For iche have smaull good, by gise for to lose,

And therefore iche care not, how ever it gose.

But chyll not be zlayne, chyll love nothing worse,

Chill never be burnt, for the money in my purse.

Iche have small rouddockes, and soldiers I know,

Will rob the rich chorles, and let the poor knaves go.

Vice

A sirre, now stay, and pause their a while,

Be not to hastye, but take all the day:

Be God I am weary, with coming this mile,

And having no money, my horse heyare to pay.

Who how, I rode on my feet, all the way,

Iesu what ground, since yesterday at none,

Have I got thorow, with this pare of shoune.

Rusticus

Nabor hodge, be goge hatche none I bear,

That this little hourchet, the deviance doth bear.

Come let us go, and of him in good south?

We will conquer out, the very truth.

Vice

Hurchyt, goges oundes gyppe with a wanyon,

Ar you so loustey, in faith good man clound:

Oundes, heart, and nails, this is a franion,

I’ll teacha you to flout me, I hold you a pound.

O that it wear not, in faith for my gound?

It will I be knoc um, yet for all that.

Hodge

Hold good master, you mare my new hat.

Fight.

Vice

Ha, ha, he, mar his hat quoth he? there was all his thought

Tout tout, for the blose he set not a pin:

That garment is dyer, that with blose is bought,

Well sires to in treat me, syth you begin?

I am contented, my blade, now shaull in.

But tell me sires, tell me no wherefore of me,

The cause on this sort, your talking should be.

Rusticus

By gis and I chyll master, for all my great pain,

Of this matter to you to tell the very plain:

My neighbour hodge and I, in good south,

Mot hear in the veldes, I tell you the truth:

Now as we wear talking, mark what I say,

You came in straight, and of us crost the way.

Which thing for zartyn, when I did espie,

This fancy vlouncht, in my head by and by:

And to hodge I said that, by gys I did veare,

That your masship, good master the deviance doth bear,

And be cause you wear littell, and of stature but small:

Your person a hourchet, in faith I did call.

But by gis be contented, vor chyll never more,

Offend you a gains, but cham zorey therefore.

Vice

If they weare not twayne, I cared not a poynt,

But two is to meyney, the prouerbe douth tell:

Elles be his oundes, I would iobard this ioynt,

And teache them agaynste me, againe to rebell?

O that I wear abull, the knaues vor to quell,

Then would I tryomphe, passinge all measure.

Hodge

Zentyll man zentyll man, at your owne pleasure:

In fayth we be, and thearuore we praye,

What they name, is to vs vor to zaye.

Vice

My name would ye kno, marrey you shaull,

Harke frynde, fourst to the I wyll it declare:

Master pacience master pacience, many on doth me caull?

But com heather nabor hodge, thou must haue a share.

By gys vnto the I wyll not spare,

The same for to showe, whearfore my frend,

My name is pacience if thou it perpend.

Hodge

Past shame? Godes gée naybor past shame?

By godes de naybor thates a tryccom name.

Vice

Tell a mare a tall, and shyell gerd out a fart

Se bow the as my wordes, douth mystake,

Would it not anger a saynt at the hart:

To se what a scoffe of my name, he douth make?

O oundes of me, as still as a stake.

He standith, nought caring what of him maye be tyde,

Be his woundes, I wod haue a arme, or a syde.

Sought let me se, it is best to be styll,

Good slepinge in a hole skynne, ould foulkes do saye,

Not withstanding I wis, ill haue myne owne wyll.

Naye I wyll be Revenged, by his oundes and I maye,

Syrra you good man Rustycus, marke what I saye:

Harke in thine eare man, this dyd I see,

A hoge of thyne wearyed to be.

Rusticus

Godes gée maister pacience, I praye you me tell,

What horsen chorles doge, my hogge so dyd quell:

Iche zware by gise, and holye zaynt blyue,

Chyll be zwinge him, and ich be a lyue,

By godes de cham angry, and not well content,

Chould ha wear hear, chould make him repent.

Ich had rather gyuen, vore stryke of corne,

Then to had my hogge on this wyse forlorne:

But if I knewe whous dogge chould be,

Revenged well inough iche warrent the.

Vice

Ha, ha, he, by god Rusticus, I maye saye in no game,

I knowe the person, whose dogge so did flaye:

Thy hogge fye fye man, it was a vearey shame,

For thy naybor hodge, to let it by this daye.

Well I wyll go to him, and se if I maye,

By aney meanes procure him, to make the amendes;

Ille do the best I can, to make you both frendes.

Rusticus

Chyll be no frendes, chad rather be hanged,

Tyll iche haue that oulde karle, wel and thryfteley banged,

And tweare not your masshyppe, dyd me with hould,

To swing the ourchet, iche chould be boulde,

Vice

Ha, ha, he, nay, nay, spare not for me,

Go to it strayght, if thear to ye gre,

Rusticus

Hodge I harde saye, thou illy, hast wrought,

For my hogge vnto death, with thi dog thou haste broughgt

Iche byd the thy vaute, to me to amend,

Or chyll zwaddell the, iche zweare in my bat end.

Hodge

Zwaddell me godes get? chyll care not a poynte,

Iche haue a good bat, thy bones to anoynte:

Thou olde carle I zaye, thy hoge hurtyd me,

And therefore I wyll haue, a mendes now of the.

My rye and my otes, my beanes and my pease,

They haue eaten vp quight, but small for my ease:

And therfore iche zaye, all thy hogges kepe vaste,

Or iche wyll them wearey, as longe as they laste.

By godes get, I can neuer come in my ground,

But that zame zwyne, in my pease iche haue founde.

Vice

Tout tout Rusticus, these wordes be but wynd

To him man, to him, and swaddell him well:

Ye neauer leaue him, as longe as thou can fynd

Him whot, but teathe him, a gaine to rebell,

What nededest thou to care, though his wordes be so fell,

Tout tout tharte vnwyse, and followe my mynde:

And I warraunt the in end, some ease thou shalt finde.

Rusticus

Godes gée hourson hoge, paye me for my zwine,

Or eles larne to kepe, that cockescome of thyne.

Up with thy staf, and be readye to smyte, but hodg smit first, and let the vise thwacke them both and run out.

Hodge

Godes de, do thy worst, I care not a poynte,

Chyll paye the none, chyll iobard a ioynte.

Vice

Nay stand I styll some what, I wyll lend,

Take this for a reward, now a waye I must wend.

Rusticus

O Godes get, cham zwinged zo zore,

Iche thincke chaul neauer lyue one houre more.

Hodge

O godes ge I thincke, my bewnes will in zonder,

Yf ich get home by gis, ittes a wounder:

Farwell Rusticus, for by gis ich chaull,

When I mete the againe, bezwinge the vorall.

Rusticus

Naye letes be frendes, and chyll in good part,
Of browne ale at my house, giue the a whole whart:
What hodge shake hondes, mon be merey and lauffe,
By godes ge iche had not, the best end of the staffe.

Hodge

Cham content naybor Rusticus, shaull be ene so,
Come to they house, I praye the let vs go.

Go out

Entrieth

Horestes To caull to minde the crabyd rage of mothers yll attempt
Prouokes me now all pyttie quight, from me to be exempt.
Yet lo dame nature teles me that, I must with willing mind
For giue the faute and to pytie, some what to be inclynd.

But lo be hould thad vlltres dame, on hourdome morder vill
Hath heaped vp not contented, her sponsaule bed to fyll:

With forrayne loue but sought also, my fatal thred to share
As erst before my fathers fyll, in sonder she dyd pare.

O paterne loue why douste thou so, of pytey me request,

Syth thou to me wast quight denyed, my mother being prest:
When tender yeres this corps of mine, did hould alas for wo
Whē frend my mother shuld haue bin thē was she chefe myfo
Oh godes therfore sith you be iust, vnto whose poure and wyll,
All thing in heauen, and earth also? obaye and sarue vntyll.

Declare to me your gracious mind, shall I Revenged be,

Of good Kynge Agamemnones death, ye godes declare to me
Or shall I let the, adulltres dame, styll wallow in her sin,

Oh godes of war, gide me a right, when I shall war begyn.

Vice

Warre quoth he. I war in dede, and trye it by the. sworde,
God saue you syr, the godes to ye: haue sent this kind of word
That in the hast you armour take, your fathers fose to slaye
And I as gyde with you shall go, to gyde you on the way.

By me thy mind ther wrathfuldome, shalbe performd in dede
Therfore Horestes marke me well, and forward do procede.

For to reueng thy fathers death, for this they all haue ment
Which thing for to demonstrat lo, to the they haue sent me.

Horestes

Ar you good syr, the messenger of godes as you do saye

Wil they in reuenging this wrong, I make not long delay.

Vice

What nede you dout, I was in heauen, whē al ye gods did gre
That you of Agamemnons death, for south reuengid should be,
Tout tout, put of that childish loue, couldst thou with a good wil
Contentyd be? that one should so, they father seme to kyll?

Why waylst yu man, leaue of I say, plucke corrage vnto the.
This lamentation sone shall fade, if thou imbrasydest me.

Horestes

What is they name may I in quear? O sacrid wight I pray
Declare to me and with this feare, do not my hart dismaye.

Vice

Amonge the godes celestiall, I Courrage called am,

You to assyste in vearey truth, from out the heauens I cam

And not wtout god Marsis his leaue, I durst hear show my face
which thou shalt fele if that ther gift thou dost forth with imbrace

Horestes

And sith it is thear gratious will, welcom thou art to me,

O holy wight for this thear gyft, I thanke them hartelley.

My thinkes I fele all feare to fley, all sorrow griefe and payne,
My thinkes I fele corrage prouokes, my wil for ward againe
For to Revenge my fathers death, and infamey so great,

Oh how my hart doth boyle in dede, with firey perching heate.
Corrage now welcom by the godes, I find thou art in dede,
A messenger of heauenly gostes, come let vs now procede.

And take in hand to bringe to pas, reuengyd for to be,

Of those which haue my father slaine, but soft now let mese
Idumeus that worthy Kinge, doth com into this place,

What saye you corrage: shal I now? declare to him my case?

Vice

Faull to it then and slacke no time, for tyme once past away,
Doth cause repentence, but to late to com old foulks do say.
When stede is stolen, to late it is to shyt the stable dore,

Take time I say, while time doth giue a leasure good therfore

Idumeus

What euer he be that sceptar beares or rules in state full hie
Is sonest down through fortunes eyar, and brought to myserey,
As of late yeares the worthy kinge Agamemnon by name,

whos prass throughout the world is bloū, by goldē trūp of fame
His wel won fame in marshall stoure, doth reache vnto the sky
Yet lo through fortunes blind attempt, be lo in earth doth lie
He the had past the fate of war, where chaunce was equall set,
Through fortunes spight is caught alacke, win olde Meros net
And he which somtime did delight, in clothed coat of maylle,
Is now constcaynd in Carones bote; ouer the brouke to saylle.
That flose vpon the fatall bankes, of Plutose kingdome great
And that in shade of silent wodes, and valeys gréene do beate.
Where soules of kinges and other wights a poyntyd are to be,
In quiet state there also is, this worthey reall trée.

Of south I ioye for to behold, Horestes actyue cheare,

The which in father somtime was, in son doth now apear,

But where is he that all this day, I neauer sawe his face,

Horestes

At hand O King thy faruant is, which wissheth to thy grace

Kenll down.

All hayl with happey fate certayne, with pleasures many fould,
But yet my leege a sute I haue, if I might be so bold.

To craue the same my soferayn lord, wherby I might aspyer

Vnto the thing with very much, O king I do requier.

Idumeus

What thing is that if we suppose, it laufull for to be,
On prynces faith without delaye, at shall be giuen the.

Vice

Tout let him alone now, we may in good south,
I was not so lustey, my pourpose to get:
But now of my honestey, I tell you of truth,
In reuenging the wronge, his mynd he hath set?
It is not Idumeus that hath poure to let.
Horestes fro sekinge his mother to kyll,
Tout let hym alone, hele haue his owne wyll.

Horestes

Sith that your grace hath willed me, this my defiar to show,
Oh gratious king this thing it is, I let your grace to know
That long I haue request to vew, my fathers kingley place,
And eke for to Revenge the wrong done to my fathers grace,
Is myne intent wherefore o king, graunt that w^tout delaye,
My earytage and honor eke, atchyue agayne I maye.

Idumeus

Stey their a whyle Horestes mine, tyll councell do decrée?
The thing that shall vnto your state, most honorabell bée.
My counciler how do you thinke, let vs your councell haue,
How think you by this thīg y^t which Horestes now doth craue

Councell

As I do thinke my solerayne lord, it should be nothing ill,
A Prynce for to Revenged be, on those which so dyd kyll.
His fathers: grace but rather shall, it be a feare to those,
That to the lyke at anye time, their cruell mindes dispose.
And also as I thinke it shall, an honer be to ye,
To adiuuate and helpe him with, some men Revenged to be.
This do I thinke most fyttest for, your state and his also,
Do as you lyst sieth that your grace, my mind herin doth kno.

Idumeus

Sith Councell thinkes it fyt in ded, Revenged for to be,
That you Horestes in good south, for to Revenge I grée.
And also to mayntaine your war, I graunt you with good will,
A thousand men of stomake bolde, your enimise to kyll.
Take them forth with, and forward go, let slyp no time ne tyd.
For chaunce to leasure to be bound, I tell you can not byd
Go therfore straight prouide your men and like a manly knight
In place of stouer put forth thy selfe, assay with all thy might.
To win the fame, for glorey none, it chambering doth rest
Marke what I saye to get thy men, I take it for they best.

Vice

Com on Horestes sith thou hast, obtayned thy desier.
Tout tout man, seke to dystroye, as doth the flaming fier?
Whose properte thou knoest doth gro, as long as any thing
Is left wher by the same may seme, som suckcor for to bring.

Horestes

I thanke your grace I shal sequest your gratius mind herin.

Go out.

Vice

Se se I praye you how he ioyse, that he must war begin.

Go out.

Idumeus

My councell now declare to me, how think you by this wight
Doth not he seme in south to be, in tyme a manley knight.
By all the godes I thinke in south, a man may easeley kno,

Whose son he was, so right he doth his fathers steppes follow

Councell

Vndoubtedly my soferaynd lorde, he semeth vnto me,
Not to sequest his fathers steppes, in feates of cheuallrey:
But rather for to imitate, the floure of great ////land,
I meane Achilles that same knight, by whose one only hand
The Greaciās haue obtaind at laingth the cōquest of old Troy
For which thei did holl x. yeres space, their labor great imploy

Idumeus

Syth he is gon for to puruaye, such thinges as shall in dede,
Suffise to sarue his tourn in wares, wherof he shal haue nede
Let vs depart and when he shall, retourne heather a gayne,
To sée the must or of his men, we wyll sure take the payne.

Go out.

Haltersycke

Entrithe and syngeth this song to the tune of haue ouer the water to floride or selengers round.

The Song

FArre well adew, that courtlycke lyfe,
To warre we tend to gowe:
It is good sport to se the stryfe,
Of Soldiers on a rowe.
How mereley they forward march,
These enemys to slaye:
With hey trym and tryxey to,
Their banners they dysplaye.
Now shaull we haue the Golden cheates,
When others want the same:
And sodyares haue foull maney feates,
Their enemyes to tame.
With couckinge heare, and bomynge their,
They breake thear fose araye:
And loustey lades amid the feldes,
Thear ensines do dysplaye.
The droum and flute playe lousteley,
The troumpet blose a mayne?
And ventrous knightes corragiousley,
Do march before thear trayne:
With speare in reste so lyuely drest,
In armour bryghte and gaye:
With hey trym and tryxey to,

Thear banners they dysplaye.

Hempstring commeth in and speaketh.

Hempstringe Goges oundes haultersycke, what makes thou heare,

Haultersycke What? Iacke hempstringe welcom, draw neare?

Hempstringe By his oundes I haue soughte the some newse the to tell,

Haultersycke Godes bloud what newse, ist the deuell in hell?

Hempstring In faythe thou act meatey, but this is the matter,
Doust thou hear haltersicke? each man doth clatter:
Of warres, ye of warres, for Horestes wyll go,
His erytage to wyn, boye the truth is so.

Haultersycke Nay but Iacke Hempstringe sease of this prate,
Yf thou cauil me boye, then beware thy pate.

Hempstringe What hould thy peace, as far as I se,
We be boyse both thearfore let vs grée.

Haultersycke Boye naye be god, though I be but smaull,
Yet Iacke hempstringe, a hart is worth all.
And haue not I an hart, that to warres dare go,
Yes hempstringe I warrant the, and that thou shouldest know
If dycke haltersyckes mynde, thou moue vnto eyar,
Colles neauer bourne, tyll they be set one fyare.

Hempstringe Ye but if they bourne, so that they same,
Yet water dycke halltersycke, the bourning cane same.
But hacke thée my master will venter a ioynt,
And me to wayte on him, he all readye doth poynt.
But hearste thou, thou knowest my master loues well,
Now and then to be snappinge, at some dayntye mossell.
But by goges bloud halltersycke, if thou loue me,
Take some prytey wenche our laundrar to be,
And be goges bloud, I am contentyd to beare,
Halfe of her chargis, when that she comes thear.

Haultersycke As fyt for the warre, Iacke hempstringe thou art,
In fayth as abe, is to drawe a carte:
He is lyke to be manned, that hath such a knight,
Vnder his banner, I sweare for to fight.
When Horestes in fight, moste busiest shalbe,
Then with they gynney, we must seke the.

Hempstringe Goges oundes, hart, and nayles, you are a sea man,
Come of with a myschiefe, my gentell companion.
By your sleue fire haultersicke, I thinke that a be,
As good a Soldier as euer was ye,

Haultersycke He hath learned his lesson, but of fouth I feare,
He hath quight forgotten, the waye for to sweare.
Oundes, hart, and nayles, nalrey ///////////////,
And he be not hanged, he wyll be starke /////////.

Hempstringe Hange me no hanginge, yf ye be so quicke,
Roube not to hard, lest hempstringe do kycke.

Haultersycke

flort him.

Had better be styll, and a sléepe in his head,
Yf a kycke me, me chaunce to breake his head,

Hempstringe Goges bloud good man haltersycke, begine you to flout me

Haultersycke No not at all he douth but sout ye.
What hempstringe I saye, are you angred at ieste.

In fayth goodman lobcocke, your handsomley drest:

flort hym on the lipes

Hempstringe Goges bloud so to flout me, thou art muche to blame?

Haultersycke Why all that I do man, is but in game.

Hempstringe Take thou that for they ieste, and flout me no more?

giue him a bor on the eare

Haltersicke For that same on blowe, than shault haue a score:
Drawe thy sword vylyne, yf thou be a man,

And then do the worst, that euer thou can.

Hempstringe Naye set sword a syde, and at /offetes well trey,
Wheather of vs both, shall haue the masterey.

Haultersycke Goges oundes thou art bygger, yet I care not a poynt,
Yf to be Revenged, I iobard a ioynt.

Fyght at bofites with fystes

Hempstring I haue coylyd the well, but I holde the a grote?
Yf thou meddell with me. I wyll s//inge thye cote.

Haultersycke In dede I must saye, I haue cought the worst,
But I wyll be reuengyd, or eies I shall bourste.
Yf tyme did not call me, from hence to depart
I should anger the hempstring, euen at the h//t?
Therefore farwell, tyll an other daye,
But h//rste thou take this, to spend by the waye.

Giue him a box on the eare and go out.

Hempstring Goges dundes is he gon, naye after I wyll,
And of the slaue by his oundes, I wyll haue my fyll.

go out. let the drum playe and Horestes enter with his men and then lette him knele downe and speake.

Horestes Oh godes be prosperous I praye, and eke preserue my band,

Show now y^t ye be gods in ded, stretch out your mighty hand
And giue vs hartes and willes also, where by we may preuayll
And suffer not you godes I praye, our courragis to fayll.

But let our hartes addytyd be, for aye as we pretend,

And of that one adulltres dame, oh gods now make an end.

My hāds do thryst her blod to haue, nought can my mīd cōtent
Tyll y^t on her I haue perfourmed, oh gods your iust iudgmēt

Nature Nay stey my child frō mothers bloud with draw thy bloudy hād

stand vp.

Horestes No nought at all oh nature can, my purpose now withstand,
Shall I for giue my fathers death, my hart can not agre

My father slayne in such a sorte, and vnreuengyd to be.

Nature Consider first horestes myne, what payne for the she toke,

Horestes And of my fathers death againe, o Nature do thou louke.

Nature I do confesse awycked facte, it was this is most playne,

Not w^tstandīg frō mothers bloud, thou must thy hāds refrain
Canst thou a lacke vnhappey wight, consent Revenged to be,
On her whose pappes before this time, hath giuen foud to the
In whom I nature for myd the, as best I thought it good,
Oh now requight her for her pain, w^tdraw thy hāds frō bloud

Horestes Who offendith the loue of god, and eke mans loue with willing hart
Must by the loue haue punnishment, as dutey due for his desart
For me therfor to pūnish hear as law of gods and mā doth wil
Is not a crime though y^t I do, as thou dost saie my mother kil

Nature The cruel beasts the raūg in feldes whose iause to blod ar whet
Do not consent their mothers paunch, in cruell wise to eate
The tyger fierse doth not desiare, the ruine of his kinde,

And shall dame nature now in the, such tyraney once finde:
As not the cruell bestes voutsafe, to do in aney case,

Leue now I say Horestes myne, and to my wordes giue place.
Lest that of men this facte af thine, may iudged for to be:

Ne lawe in south, ne iustys eke, but cruell tyraney.

Horestes Pythagoras doth thincke it lo, no tyraney to be,

When that iustyse is mynest/yd, as lawe and godes decrée.

If that the law doth her condemne, as worthy death to haue,
Oh nature woulst thou wil y^t I, her life should seme to saue?
To saue her lyfe whom law doth slay, is not iustise to do,

Therefore I saye I wyll not yeld, they hestes to com vnto.

Nature Yf nature cannot brydell the, remember the decaye,

Of those which hereto fore in south, their parēts sought to slay
oedippus fate, caull thou to minde, that slew his father so,

And eke remember now what fame, of him a brode doth go.

Horestes what fame doth blowe I forse not I, ne yet what fame I haue
For this is true y^t bloud for bloud, my fathers deth doth craue
And lawe of godes, and lawe of man, doth eke request the same.
Therefore oh nature sease to praye, I forse not of my name.

Nature For to lament this heauey fate, I cannot other do.

A lacke a lacke that once my chyld, should now consent vnto:
His mothers death wherefore farewell, I can no longer stey.

Go out.

Horestes Farwel dame Nature to my men. I straight wil take my way

Go out.

Idumeus

Enter.

To se this monster let vs go, for I suppose it tyme,
Where is Horestes why stease he: the truth to me define:

Councell

Let the drum playe.

Oh soferayne lord me thinkes I here, him for to be at hand

yft please your grace, he is in sight, euen now withal his band.

Idumeus

Com on Horestes we haue stayd, your monster for to se.

Let the drum play and enter Horestes with his band marche about the stage.

Horestes

And now at hand my men and I, all redy armed be.

Lo mighty king this champions here, agre with me to wende
Oh gracious king that they shall so, wylt please you cōdissend

Idumeus

I do agrée and now a whyle, giue eare your king vnto,
It doth behoufe corragious knightes, on this wyse for to do.
That is to stryue for to obtayne, the victorey and prayse,
That lasts for aye, when death shal end, y^t find of these our dais
Wherefore be bold, and feare no fate, the gods for you shall fight
For they be iust and will not se, that you in case of right.
Shall be desstrest wherefore attend, and do your busey payne,
The crabyd rage of enymyse, by forse for to restrayne?
And as to me your trusteynes, hath here to fore be knowne,
So now to this Horestes here, let eke the same be showne.
Be to his heastes obaydient, be stoute to take in hand,
Such enterpryse which he shal thinke, most for his state to stād
Which if you do the same is youres, the glorey and renoune,
That shal arise of this your facts, throughout the world shal soūd
The which you may I pray the godes, your gydes here in to be
And now farwell but not that well, that I haue sayde to ye.

Soldiers

The godes presarue your grace for aye, and you defend from wo.
That we haue don as you cōmaūd, ful wel your grace shall know.

Idumeus

Now harke Horestes sith thou must, of men the gyder be,
And that the wyll of godes it is, thou must now part from me.
Take yet my last commaundement, and beare it in thy minde,
Let now they men courragiousnes, in the their captayne finde
And as thou art courragious, so lyke wyse let their be,
For safegard of thy men a brayne, well fraught with pollicye.
For ouer rashe in doinge ought, doth often damage bringe,
Therfore take councell first before, thou dost anye thinge.
For councell as Plaato doth tell, is sure a heauenly thinge.
And Socrates a certaynte doth say, councell doth brynge.
Of thinges in dout for Lyuy sayes, no man shall him repent,
That hath before he worked ought, his tyme in councell spent
And be thou lybraull to thy men, and gentell be also,
For the way at thy wil thou mayst, haue them through fire to go
And he that shall at any tyme, deserue ought well of the,
Soffer him not for to depart, tyll well reward he be.
Thus haue you hard horestes mine, remembar well the same
In doing thus you shall pourchas, to the immortaull fame.
The which I hope you wyll assaye, for to atchife in dede,
The gods the blis when in the war, thou forward shalt procede.

Horestes

I thanke your grace and now of you, my leaue I here do take

Idumeus

Embrace him

Farwell my sonne Horestes I, thy partinge yll shall take,

Yet eare thou go let me imbrace, the once I the do praye,

A lacke alacke that now from me, thou must nedes part away
Yet whyell thou art in preasent place, receaue of me this kys,
Farwell good knight for now I shal, thy swete imbrasings mys

Kiss him.

Horestes

The sacred godes presarue and saue, thy state oh king I pray,
And send the helth and after death, to rayne with him for aye.
Come on my men, let vs depart,

Soldiers

As please your grace with all our hart.

March about and go out.

Idumeus

Ah, ah, how, greuous is his parting now, my councell vnto me
The Godes him bles and send him helth, I pray them hartele.

Wo worth the time the day and our, now may Horestes wayle
And Clytemnestra may lament, that so she dyd assayle.
His father deare for now on bloud, Horestes mind is set,
And to Revenge his fathers death, sure nought their is can let.
In voyding of a mischefe smal, they haue wrought their decay
For now nought elles in Horestes, but sore reueng bears sway

Councell

For to causes my soferayne lord, reuengment ought to be,

The on least others be in fecte, with that, that they shall se.

Their princes do, the other is, that those that now be yll.

May be reuoked and may be taught, for to subdew their wyll,

Plato a wyse phylosopher, dyd thinke it for to be,

A Prynceley facte when as a King, shall punnishe seriousley.
Such persons as dyd trayne their lyfe, to follow y^t was naught
y^t which their prīce at ani time, shal by mischaūce haue wroght
Protegeus an euell kinge, a carrayne lykenes to,

Which all the place about the same, to stinke causeth to do.

Therefore O king if that her faute, should vnreuengyd be,

A thousand euylles would insu, their of your grace should se.

Her faute is great and punnyshment, it is worthy for to haue,
For by that meane the good in south, frō duūgers may be saufe
For lo the vnyuersaull scoll, of all the world we knowe,

Is once the pallace of a kinge, where vyces chefe do flow.

And as to waters from on head, and fountayne oft do spring,

So vyce and vertue oft do flo, from pallace of a kinge.

Whereby the people seing that, the kinge adycte to be,

To prosecute the lyke, they all do labor as we se.

Therfore the gods haue wylled thus, Horestes for to take,

His iorney and a recompence, for fatheres death to make.

Idumeus

Sith gods haue wild the same to be, good lucke the gods him send
Com on my councell now from hence, we purpose for to wend

Go out.

Enter Egisthus and Clytemnestra, singinge this songe, to the tune of king Salomon.

Egisthus

And was it not a worthy sight,
Of Venus childe kinge Priames sonne:
To steale from Grece a Ladye bryght,
For whom the wares of Troye begon.
Naught fearinge daunger that might faull.

Lady ladie.

From Grece to Troye, he went with all,

My deare Lady.

Clytemnestra

When Paris firste ariued there,
Where as dame Venus worshyp is:
And bloustringe fame abroade dyd beare,
His lyueley fame she dyd not mys.
To Helena for to repayre,

Her for to tell:
Of prayse and shape so trym and fayre,

That dyd exzell.

Egisthus

Her beautie caused Paris payne,
And bare chiefe sweye with in his mynde:
No thinge was abell to restraine,
His wyl some waye fourth for to finde.
Where by he might haue his despyare,

Lady ladye:
So great in him was Cupids fyare,

My deare ladye.

Clytemnestra

And eke as Paris dyd desyear,
Fayre Helena for to possesse:
Her hart inflamid with lyke fyear,
Of Paris loue despiard no lesse,
And found occasion him to mete,

In Cytheron.
Where each of them the other dyd grete,

The feast vppon.

Egisthus

Yf that in Paris Cupides shafte,
O Clytemnestra toke such place:
That tyme ne waye he neuer left,
Tyll he had gotte her comley grace,
I thinke my chaunce not ill to be

Ladye ladye.
That ventryd lyfe to purchase ye

My dere ladye.

Clytemnestra

Kynge Priames. sonne loued not so sore,
The gretian dame they brothers wyfe:
But she his person estemed more,
Not for his sake sauinge her lyfe.
Which caused her people to be slayne,

With him to flye,
And he requight her loue a gayne,

Most faythfullye.

Egisthus

And as he recompence agayne,
The fayre quene Hellyn for the same:
So whyle I lyue I wyll take payne,
My wyll alwayes to yours to frame.
Syth that you haue voutsafe to be,

Ladye ladye.
A Queene and ladye vnto me,

My deare ladye.

Clytemnestra

And as she louyd him best whyle lyfe,
Dyd last so tend I you to do:
Yf that deuoyd of warr and stryfe,
The Godes shall please to graunt vs to,
Syeth you voutsafest me for to take,

O my good knyght:
And me thy ladye for to make,

My hartes delyghte.

Egisthus

As ioyfull as the warlyke god is Venus to behoulde,
So is my hart repleate with ioye, much more a thousand fould
Oh Lady deare in that I do, posses my hartes delyghte,
What menes this sound for very much, it doth my hart a flight

Let the trumpet blowe with in.

Clytemnestra

Feare nought at all Egisthus myne, no hourt it doth pretend,
But lo me thinkes a messenger, to vs heather doth wend.

Enter.

Messenger

The Gods presarue your eaquall state and send you of their blys

Clytemnestra

Welcom good messenger what newese, I pray the with the is

Messenger

Yft please your grace euen now their is, aryued in this land
The mightey knight Horestes with, a mightey pewsaūt band
Who purposith for to inuade, this Mycoene Citie stronge,
And as he goese he leyse both tower, and castell all alonge.
It boutes no man defence to make, for yf he wyll not yeld,
By Soldieres rage he straight is slayne, in mydest of the felde.

Go out.

Clytemnestra

Ah syr is he come in dede, he is wellcom by this daye,
Egisthus now in south with spede, from hence take you your way.
In to our realme and take vp men, our tyghtull to defend,
Tyll your retourne this Citie I, to kepe do sure intend.
For all his strength he shall not get, to entter once hear in,
The walles be strong and for his forse, I sure set not a pyn.

Egisthus

Syth you be abell to defend, this Citie as you saye,
Farwell in south to get men, I now wyll take my waye.
And sone againe I wyll returne, his pamprid pryd to tame,

Clytemnestra

Farwell Egisthus and in south, I strayght will do the same.

Soldier

Yeld the I saye and that by and by,
Or with this sword, in fayth thou shalt dye.

Enter a woman, lyke a beger rounning before they sodier but let the sodier speke first, but let the woman crye first pitifulley.

Woman

Oh with a good wyll, I yeld me to the,
Good master sodier, haue mercye on me.
My husband thou hast slayne, in most cruell-wyse,
Yet this my prayer, do now not dyspyse.

Soldier

Go a fore her, and let her fal downe upon the and al to be beate him.

Come on then in hast, my pryfoner thou art,
Come followe me I saye, we must nedes depart.

Woman

A horson slaue I wyll teach the in faye,
To handle a woman on, an other waye.
To put me in feare, with out my dezarte
I wyll teache the in faye to playe such a parte.

Soldier

Be contentyd good woman, and thou shalt be,
Neauer heare after molysted for me.

Woman

Naye vyllyn slaue, a mendes thou shalt make,
In that thou be fore me as prysinor dydest take.
Nowe I haue cought the, and my prysoner thou art,
By his oundes horson slaue, this gose to they harte.

Soldier

Naye saue my lyfe, for I wyll be,
Thy prysoner and lo I yelde me to the

Take his weapons and let him ryse vp and then go out both.

Woman

Come wend thou with me, and they wepon thou shalt haue,
Syth that thou voutsafyste, my lyfe for to saue.

Enter. The Vice synginge this song to the tune of the Paynter.

Vice

Stand backe ye slepinge iackes at home,

And let me go.
You lye syr knaue am I a mome,

Why saye you so.
Tout tout, you dare not come in felde,
For feare you shoulde the goste vp yelde.
With blose, he gose, the gunne shot flye,
It feares, it seares, and their doth lye.
A houndreth in a moment be,

Disstroyed quight:
Syr sause in fayth yf you shoulde se,

The gonne shot lyght.
To quake for feare you would not stynte,
When as by forse of gounshotes dynte:
The rankes in raye, are tooke awaye,
As pleaseth fortune oft to playe.
But in this stower who beares the fame,

But onley I:
Revenge, Revenge, wyll haue the name,

Or he wyll dye.
I spare no wight, I feare none yll,
But with this blade I wyll them kyll
For when myne eayre, is set on fyare,
I rap them, I snap them, that is my desyare.

Farwell a dew to wares I muste
In all the hast.
My cosen cut pursse wyll I truste,
Your pursse well tast,
But to it man, and feare for nought,
Me saye to the it is well fraught.
Wyth ruddockes red be at a becke,
Beware the arse, breake not thy necke,

Go out.

Horestes entrith with his bande and marcheth about the stage.

Horestes

Come on my Soldiers for at home, aryued their we be,

Where as we must haue our desyare, or els dye manfulley.

The walles be hye yet I intend, vppon them first to go,

And as I hope you sodierrs will, your captayne eke follow

Yf I forsake to go before then fley you eke be hynde,

And as I am so eke I trust, my Soldiers for to finde.

Com hether harauld go proclame this mine intent straightway
To yonder citite say that I, am come to their decaye.

Vnlesse they yeld I will destroye, boch man woman and childe,
And eke their towers that for the war, so strongly they do bylde
Byd them in hast to yeld to me, for nough I do a byde.

But for their aunswear or elles fourth with for them and theres prouid

Let the trumpet go towarde the Citie and blowe.

Herald

Your gratious minde straight shalbe don, cum trōpet let vs go
That I haue don your message wel, your grace ful wel shal kno

Horestes

Hye the apase and let me haue, agayne an aunsweare sone,

And then a non thou shalt well se, what quickely shalbe done.

Let the trumpet leaue soundyng and let Herald speake and Clytemnestra speake ouer the wal.

Herald

How whow is their y^t kepes the gate giue eare my words vnto

Clytemnestra

What wouldst thou haue harald declare, what hast thou her to do

Herald

My master bydes the yeld to him, this citie out of hande,

Or elles he will not leaue on stone, on other for to stand.

And all things elles within this towne he wil haue at his wil
As pleaseth him by any meanes, to saue or elles to spyll,

What you will now, therfore declare, and aunswere to him send

Clytemnestra This Citie here against him, and his I wyll defende,

Herald

Then in his name I do defye, both the and all with in,

Clytemnestra

By him and his tell him in south, we do not set a pyn.

Herald

Yf it please your grace this word she sends, she wil not yeld to ye
But yf you com vnto your harme, she sayes that it shalbe.

Horestes

Sith that my grace and eke good wil, they on such sort dispise,
For to destroye both man and chyld, I surely do deuyse,

Com on my men, bend now your forse, this Citie for to wyn,
Saue no mans lyfe, y^t once should make, rysistaunce there w^tin,
And when you shall posses the towne, and haue all things at wil,
Loke out my mother but to her, do ye no kynde of yll.

Let her not die, though that she would, desiar the death to haue
For other wyse my fathers death, reuengment doth craue.

Soldier

We shall your hestes obaye with spede, oh captayne we desiar,
That we were therefor to Revenge, our hartes are set on fyar.

Vice

Lyke men by God, I sweare well sayd, Horestes let vs gow,
Nowe to thy men lyke manley hart, I praye the for to showe.
And as thou seiste be firste the man, that shall the Citie wyn,
How, how, now for to flye, all ready they begynne.

Horestes

With lyuely hartes my troumpeters, exault your tubal sound.
And now my Soldiers in your harts, let courrage eke be found.
Com let vs go the godes for vs, shall make an easey waye,

Spare none a lyue for I am bent, to seke their great decaye.

Go and make your lieely battel and let it be longe eare you can win the Citie and when you haue won it let Horestes bringe out his mother by the arme and let the droum sease play ing and the trumpet, also when she is takē let her knele downe and speake.

Clytemnestra

A lack what heaps of myschefes great, me selly wight torment.
Now is the tyme falune me vpon, which I thought to preuent
Yet best I seke my lyfe to saue, perhappes he will me here,

A lacke reuengment he dothe craue, for slaying his father dere.
Yf aney sparke of mothers bloud, remaynd within thy breste,
Oh gratious child let now thine eares, vnto my words be prest
Pardon I craue Horestes myne, saue now my corpes frō death

Let no man saye that thou wast cause, I yeldyd vp my breath,
I haue offendyd I do confesse, yet saue my lyfe I praye,
And to they mother this request, o knight do not denaye.

Horestes

For to repent this facte of thyne, now that it is to late,
Can not be thought a recompence, for kylling of thy mate.
Go haue her hence therfore with spede, and se her sureley kepte,
And for the fact a fore thou dydest, thou surley shouldst haue wept

Go out with on of the soldiers.

Vice

Nay, far you wel, in fayth you haue an aunswer, get you hence.
Oundes of me I would not be, in her cote for forty pence.

Nay nay, a way far well a dew, now now, it is to late.

When stede is stollen for you in south, to shut the stable gate.
She should haue wept whē first she went, the king about to slay,
It makes no matter she foull well, dyd brede her owne decaye
Ounds of me what meane you man, begyn you now to faynt
Iesu god how styll he syttes, I thinke he be a saynt.

Let Horestes syth hard.

Ooooo, you care not for me, nay sone I haue don I warrant ye

wepe but let Horestes ryse and bid him pease

Horestes

By all the godes my hart dyd fayle, my mother for to se,
From hye estate for to be brought, to so great myserey.
That all most I had graunted lyfe, to her had not this be,
My fathers death whose death in south, chefe causer of was she.

Vice

Euen as you saye but harke at hand, Egisthus draweth nye.
Who purposieth the chaunce of war, Horestes for to trye.

Horestes

And by the godes I purpose eke, my honour to defend,
Com on my men kepe your araye, for now we do pretend.
Eather to be the conqerer, or elles to dye in felde,
Lyft vp your hartes and let vs se, how ye your blose can yeld.

Let Egisthus enter and set hys men in a raye and let the drom playe tyll Horestes speaketh

Egisthus

Lyke manley men adresse your selues, to get immortall fame,
Yf ye do flye lo what doth rest, behynde but foull defame.
Strike vp your drūs let trūpets soūd, your baners eke display,
And I my selfe as captayne, to you wyll lead the waye.

Stryke up your drum, and fyght a good whil and then let sum of Egisthus’ men flye and them take hym and let Horestes drau him vyolentlye and let the drums sease.

Horestes

Thou tryator to my father dere, what makest the here in feld,

Repent the of thy wyckednes, and to me strayght do yeld.

Egisthus

Thou pryncoks boy and bastard slaue, thinks thou me to subdew?
It lyeth not with in thy powre, thou boye I tell the trew.
But yf I take thy corpes, it shalbe a fode the byrdes to fede.
Stryke vp your droums and forward now, to wars let vs prosede.

Horestes

Oh vyllayne trayghtor now the gods, ne mortall man shall saue
Thy corps frō death for blud for blud my fathers deth doth craue
Oh tyraunt fyrse couldest thou voutsafe, my father so to slaye?
But now no forse for thou hast wrought, at last thine one decay

Egisthus

A lacke a lacke yet spare my lyfe, Horestes I the praye.

Horestes

Thy lyfe? naye trayghtor vyle, that chefe I do denaye.

For as thou hast deseruyd, so I shall thy facte requit.

That once couldst seme to me and mine, for to work such dispight
Therfore com forth and for thy facte, receaue dew punnishmēt
Repent I say this former lyfe, for this is my iudgment.

That for my fathers death, the which we finde the chefe to be,
The causer of thou shalt be hanged, where we thy death may se
And as thou for my fathers death, dew punnishment receiue,

So shall my mother in lykewise, for that she gaue the leaue.

Him for to slaye, and eke to it, with good will condysende,

Therfore com of and sone dyspatch, that we had made an end.

Egisthus

Ah heauey fate and chaunce most yll, wo worth this hap of mine,
For giue my faute you sacryd godes, and to my wordes incline
Your gracious eare for causer furst, I was this is most plaine,
Of Agamemnous death, wherefore I must receaue this paine.
Pardon I craue, voutsafe ye godes, the same to graunt it me,
Now sodier worke thy wyll in hast, I praye the harteley.

Fling him of the lader and then let on bringe in his mother Clytemnestra but let her loke wher Egisthus hangeth.

Clytemnestra

Ah heauey fate would god I had, in tormoyle great byn slayne
Syth nothing can Horestes hands, frō sheding bloud restraine

Vice

How chaunce you dyd not thē lament his father whē you slew?
But now when death doth you preuent, to late ites for to rew.

Clytemnestra

Yet hope I that he will me graunt, my lyfe that I should haue.

Vice

Euen as much as thou voutsafest, his fathers lyfe to saue,
Therfore com of we must not stey, all daye to wayght on the.
Lo myghtye prince for whom ye sent, lo preasent here is she.

Clytemnestra

Haue mercy sonne and quight remitte, this faute of mine I pray,
Be mercyfull Horestes myne, and do not me denaye.
Consider that in me thou hadest, they hewmayne shape cōposid
That thou shouldst slay thy mother son, let it not be disclosyd,
Spare to perse her harte with sword, call eke vnto thy mynd,
Edyppus fate and as Nero, showe not thy selfe vnkynde.

Take downe Egisthus and bear him out.

Horestes

Lyke as a braunche once set a fyare, doth cause the trée to bourne
As Socrates supposeth so, a wicked wight doth tourne.
Those that be good and cause them eke, his euell to sequest,
Wherefore the poete Iuuenal, doth thinke it for the beste:
That those that lyue lycentiousley, should brydlyd be with payne
And so others that elles would syn, therby they might restrain
For thus he sayeth that Cities are, well gouerned in dede,
Where punnishment for wycked ones, by lawe is so decrede.
And not decrede but exersyesd, in punnyshinge of those,
Which law ne pain frō waloing still, in vice their mind dispose,
And as thou hast byn chiefes cause, of yelding vp they breath,
So call to minde thou wast the cause, of Agamemnons death.
For which as death is recompence, of death so eke with the,
For kyllinge of my father thou, now kylled eke shault be.
This thinge to se accomplyshyd, Revenge with the shall go,
Now haue her hence sieth y^t you all, my iudgment here do kno

Clytemnestra

A lacke a lack with drawe thy hand, my son from sheding bloud.

Vice

Thou art a foule thus for to prate, this doth Horestes good,
Com on a way thou doust no more, but him with words molest
A foulyshe foull that thou wart ded, he takes it for the best?

Kneel down.

Clytemnestra

Yf euer aney pytie was, of mother plante in the,

Let it apeare Horestes myne, and showe it vnto me.

Horestes

What pyttie thou on father myne, dydest cursedley bestowe,
The same to the at this present, I purpose for to showe.
Therfore Revenge haue her a way, and as I iudgment gaue:
So se that she in order lyke, her punishment dew haue.

Vice

Let me alone, com on a way, that thou weart out of sight,
A pestelaunce on the crabyd queane, I thinke thou do delyght,
Him to molest, com of in hast, and troubell me no more,
Come on com on, ites all in vaine, and get you on a fore,

Horestes

Now syeth we haue the conquest got, of all our mortall fose,
Let vs prouide that occasion, we do not chaunce to lose.
Stryke vp your droumes for enter now, we wyll the citie gate
For nowe resestaunce none there is, to let vs in thereat.

Fame

As eache man bendes him selfe, so I report his fame in dede,
Yf yll, thē yll, through iarne trūp, his fame doth straigh prosede:
Yf good, then good, through golden trūp, I blo his lyuely fame:
through heauēs, throgh earth, and surgīg sease I bere abrod the same
perhaps what wind me heather driues, w^tin your mid̄s you muse
From Crete I com to you my frends, I bring this kind of newse
That Agamemnons brother is ariuyd in this land,

And eke with him his ladey fayre, Quene Helen vnderstand.
Whom for to se a great frequent, of people their aryue,

This newse to shew at this present, me heather now dyd driue.

Vice

A Newe master, a newe,
No lenger I maye:
Abyde by this daye
Horestes now doth rew.
A new master a new,
And was it not yll?
His mother to kyll?
I pray you how saye you?
A new master a new,

Nowe ites to late?
To shut the gate?
Horestes gines to rew.

Fame Deniquod non paruas animo dati gloria vires:

Et foecunda facit pectora laudis amor.
As Ouid sayeth I am in dede, the spure to each estate,
For by my troumpe I often cause the wicked man to hate,
Is fylthey lyfe, and eke I stoure, the good more good to be:
So much the hart and will of man, is lynked vnto me.

Vice

A new master a new, naye I wyll go,
Tout, tout, Horestes is be com a newe man:
Now he sorroweth to bad that it is so,
Yet I wyll oresse him, by his oundes and I can.
Who Saintie amen. God morrowe mystres Nan,
By his oundes I am glad to se the so trycke,
Nay may I be so bould, at your lyppes to haue a lycke.
Iesus how coye, do you make the same,
You neauer knew me afore I dare saye:
In fayth, in fayth, I was to blame,
That I made no courchey to you by the waye.
Who berladye Nan, thou art trym and gaye,
Woundes of me, she hath winges also,
Who whother with a myschefe, doust thou thinke for to go?
To heauen? or to hell? to pourgatorye? or spayne?
To Venys? to pourtugaull? or to the eylles Canarey?
Nay stay a whyle for a myle or twayne.
I wyll go with the, I sweare by saynt marey,
Wylt thou haue a bote Nan, ouer seay the to carey.
For yf it chaunce for to rayne, as the weathers not harde,
It may chaunce this trym geare of thine, to be marde,

Fame Omnia si perdis, famam seruare memento,
Qua semel amissa, postia nullus eris.
Aboue eache thinge kepe well thy fame, what euer y^t thou lose
For fame once gone they memory, with fame a way it gose.
And it once lost thou shalt in south, accomptyd lyke to be,

A drope of rayne that faulyth in, the bosom of the sée,

Me fame therfore as Ouid thinkes, no man hath powre to hold,
To those with whom I please to dwell, I am more rich thē gold
What causid som for countris soyle, them selues to perrell cast
But that the knew that after death, the fame of thers shall last.
Not on, but all, do me desiare, both good and bad lykewyse,
As maye apeare yf we perpend, of Nerose enterpryse.

Which first did cause his masters death, and eke wheras he laye
In mothers wound to se in south, his mother dyd straight slay.
With this Horestes eke takes place, whose father being slayn,
throgh mothers gile frō mothers blod, his hāds could not refraīe
But lyke as he reuengyd the death, of father in his eyare,

So fathers brother in lyke sort, Revenge hath set on fyare.

For he is gon for to request, the ayde of prynces great,

So sore his hart is set on fyare, throught raging rigorus heat.
What to detarmayne all the kynges, of Grece aryued be,

At Nestores towne that Athens highte, their iudgment to decre

Vice

Oundes harte and nayles, naye now I am drest,
Is the kinge Menalaus at Athenes aryued?
And I am be hind? to be packinges the best,
Least the matter in south, to sone be contryued.
Auxilla humilia firma, consensus facit, this allwayes prouided
That consent maketh suckers most sure for to be,
Well I wyll be their strayght, wayse you shall se.

Go out.

Fame

As Publius doth well declare, we ought chefest to se,
Vnto our selues that nought be don, after extremite.
Abalio expectes, alteri quod feceris.
For loke what mesure thou dost meate, the same againe shalbe,
At other tyme at others hand, repayde againe to the.
Therefore I wyshe eache wight to do, to others as he would,
That they in lyke occasion, vnto him offer would.
Wel forth I must som newse to here, for fame no where cā stay
But what she hears throughout the would abrod she doth display

Go out.

Provision

Make roume and gyue place, stand backe there a fore,
For all my speakinge, you presse styll the more.

Gyue rome I saye quickeley, and make no dalyaunce,
It is not now tyme, to make aney taryaunce:
The kinges here do com, therefore giue way,
Or elles by the godes, I wyll make you I saye.
Lo where my Lord Kynge Nestor doth com,
And Horestes with him Agamemnons sonne:
Menelaus a kyng lykewyse, of great fame,
Make rome I saye, before their with shame.

Nestor

Nowe syeth we be here Kynge Menalaij
Vnto vs we praye you, your matter to saye.
For these prynces here, after they haue perpendyd,
If ought be amys, it shall be amendyd,
But syrra Provision, go in haste and fet,
Good kynge Idumeus, tell him we are set.

Go out.

Provision As your gracis haue wylled, so tend I to do,
I wyll fetche him strayght, and bringe him you to.

Pause a while till he be gon out and then speak tretably.

Horestes

If ought be amys, the same sone shall be,
If I haue commytted amendyd of me:
But so Idumeus the good kyng of Crete,
Is come to this place, vs for to mete.

Enter Idumius and Provision comming with his cap in his hand a fore him and making waye.

Idumeus

The Gods presarue your gracis all, and send you health for aye.

Nestor

Well com sier kinge the same to ye, contynewalley we pray.

Menalaus

Two thīgs ther is o kings, the moues me thus your ayds to pray:
And these be it the which to you, I purpose for to saye.
The one is this where with I fynde, my selfe agreuid to be,
That on such sort my systers slayne, as all your gracis se.
The other is that so her sonne, without all kind of right,
Should to his mother in such case, (I say) worke such dispight.
These two be they, wherfore I craue, your ayds to ioyn with me:
To the intent of such great ylles, reuengyd I may be.
That thus he dyd be hould the state, of all my brothers land,
And se I pray you in what place, the same doth present stand.

His crueltie is such in south, as nether tower ne towne,

That letted once his passage, but is brought vnto the ground.

The fatherles he pyttyed not, where as he euer went,

the agyd wight whose yeres before, their youthly poure had spent
The mayd whose parentes at the sege, defending of their right
Was slaine, the same this tyrant hath opressyd through his might
The wido y^t through forrayne wars, was left now comfortles,
He spared not, but them and theres, he cruelly dyd dystres.

Wherfore sith that he thus hath wrought, as far as I can sée,
From Mycoene land we should prouid, him exylyd to be.

Horestes

Syth that you haue accusyd me, I must my aunswere make,
And here before these kings of Grece, this for my aunswer take
O ounckel that I neuer went, reuengment for to do,

On fathers fose tyll by the godes, I was comaund there to.

Whose heastes no man dare once refuse, but wyllingly obaye

That I haue slayne her wylfully, vntruely you do saye.

I dyd but that I could not chuse, ites hard for me to kycke,

Syth gods commaund as on would say, in fayth against the prick

In that you say, I sparyd none, your grace full well may se,

That lyttell mercy they supposyd, in south to show to me.

When as they bad me do my worst, requesting them to yeld,

It is no iest when sodyares ioyne, to fight within a felde.

Thus I suppose sufficiently, I aunswerd haue to end,

Your great complaynt, the which you so, mightely did defend.

Idumeus

In dede as Hermes doth declare, no man can once estew,
The iudgment of god most iust, that for his fautes is dew.
And as god is most mercyfull, so is he iust lyke wyse.
And wyll correcte most suerley those, that his heastes dispysel

Nestor

As you good Kyng Idumeus, haue sayd so lykewise I,
Do thinke it trew therefore as nowe, I do him here defye.
That one dare say y^t he hath wrought, the thing y^t is not right
Lo here my gloue to him I giue, in pledge with him to fyght.
I promys here to proue there by, Horestes nought dyd do,
But that was iust and that the gods, commaundyd him there to
That he is kinge of Mycoene land, who euer do deney.

I offer here my gloue with him, therfore to lyue and dye.
Yf none therebe wyll vnder take, his tyghfull to with saye.
Let vs be frendes vnto him nowe, my Lordes I doye praye.
It was the parte of such a knyght, reuengyd for to be,
Should Horestes content him selfe, his father slayne to se.
No, no, a ryghtuous facte I thinke, the same to be in dede,
Syeth that it was accomplysht so, as godes before decrede.

Menelaus

In dede I must confesse that I, reuengyd should haue be,
If that my father had byn slayne, with such great cruelte.
But yet I would for natures sake, haue spard my mothers lyfe
O wretched man, o cruell beast, o mortall blade and knyfe.

Idumeus

Sease of syr kyng leaue morning lo, nought can it you auaylle
Not with standing be rulyd now, we pray by our counsaylle.
Consider first your one estate, consider what maye be,
A ioyefull mene to end at leyngth, this your calamytie.
Horestes he is younge of yeares, and you are somwhat olde,
And sorrowe may your grace to sone, within her net in folde,
Therefore ites best you do forget, so shall you be at ease,
And I am sure Horestes wyll, indeuor you to please,
So far as it for him may be, with honor lefe to do,
He wyll not shrynke but wyll consent, your gracis bydding to
For assuraunce of your good wyll, Horestes here doth craue,
your daughter fayre Hermione, in maryage for to haue.
Thereby for to contynew styll, true loue and amytie,
That ought in sought betwixte to such, indefferent for to be.

Menalaus

As for my frendshyp he shall haue, the godes his helper be
But for my daughters maryage, I can not graunt to be.
She is but yong and much vnfet, such holy ryghtes to take,
Therefore syr kyngs at this present, no aunswere I can make.

Nestor

She is a dame of comley grace, therefore kyng Menalaye,
Graunt this to vs this stryfe to end, o kyng we do the praye.
For eache of them a grede be the other for to haue,
Good syr graunt this that at thy handes, so iustley we do craue

Menalaus

O Nobell king what that it were, I could not you denaye,
I must nedes graunt whē nought I haue, against you to repley
Horestes here before these kinges, my sonne I the do make,

Horestes

And the o kynge whyle lyfe doth last, for father I do take.

Nestor

Ryght ioyfull is this thinge to vs, and happey for your state,
Therfore with spede let vs go hence, the maryage to seleybrate
And all the godes I praye presarue, and kepe you both from wo,
Com on syr king, shall we from hence, vnto our pallace go.

Menalaus

As if shall please your grace in dede, so we consent to do,

Idumeus

And we lykewyse oh gratious Prynce, do condisend there to.

Go out all

Vice entrith with a staffe and a bottell or dyshe and wallet.

Revenge

I woulde I were ded, and layde in my graue,
Oundes of me, I am trymley promouted:
Ah, ah, oh, well now for my labor, these trynketes I haue?
Whyse you not I praye you, how I am flouted.
A bagge and a bottell, thus am I louted?
Eache knaue now a dayes, would make me his man,
But chyll master them, I be his oundes and I can.
A begginge, a begginge, nay now I must go,
Horestes is maryed, god send him much care:
And I Revenge, am dryuen him fro.
And then ites no maruayll, though I be thus bare.
But peace, who better then beggars doth fare.
For all they be beggares, and haue no great port,
Who is meryer, then the pooryste sort.
What shall I begge? nay thates to bad,
Is their neare a man, that a saruaunt doth lacke:
Of myne honestye gentle woman, I would be glad?
You to sarue but for clothes, to put on my backe.
A waye with these rages, from me the shall packe.

Put of the beggares cote and all thy thynges.

What thinke you scorne, me your seruaunt to make,
A nother wyll haue me, yf you me for sake.
Parhappes you all meruayll, of this sodayne mutation,
How sene I was downe, from so hye a degre:

To satisfye your myndes, I wyl yuse a perswation.
This one thinge you knowe, that on caulyd amyte,
Is vnto me Revenge most contrarey.
And we twayne to geather, could not abyde,
Whych causyd me so sone, from hye state to slyde.
Horestes and his ounckell, Kynge Menalaus,
Is made such sure frendes, without paraduenture,
Through the pollycye, of olde Idumeus?
That as, far as I can se, it is to hard to enter,
Ye and thates worsse, when I sought to venture.
I was dryuen with out comfort, awaye from their gate,
I was glad to be packinge, for feare of my pate.
Yet befor I went, my fancey to please,
The maryage selebratyd, at the church I dyd se,
Wyllinge I was, them all to dysease:
But I durst not be so bold, for master Amyte.
Sot by Menalaus, and bore him companye,
On the other syde Duty with Horestes boure swaye.
So that I could not enter, by no kynde of waye?
Well syeth from them both, I am bannyshyd so,
I wyll seke a new master, yf I can him finde:
Yet I am in good comfort, for this well I knowe,
That the most parte of wemen, to me be full kynde,
Yf they saye near a worde, yet I knowe their mynde.
Yf they haue not all thinges, when they do desiare,
They wyll be reuengyd, or elles lye in the myare.
Nay I knowe their quallytes, the lesse is my care,
As well as they do knowe, Reuengys operation,
Ye faull to it good wyues, and do them not spare.
Nay Ille helpe you forward, yf you lacke but perswacion.
What man a moste is frée, from inuasion.
For as playnely Socrates declareth vnto vs,
Wemen for the most part, are borne malitious.
Perhappes you wyll saye, maney on that I lye,
And other sume I am sure, also wyll take my parte:
Not withstandinge what I haue sayde, they wyll veryfye,
ye and do it I wys, in spyght of thy hart.
Yf therefore thou wyll lyue quyetlye, after their desart?

Reward then so shault, thou brydell their affection,
And vnto they wyll, shall haue them in subiection.
In Athenes dwellyd Socrates, the phyllosopher dyuine,
Who had a wyfe namyd Exantyp, both deuelyshe and yll:
Which twayne beenge faulne out, vppon a tyme,
Perhappe cause Exantyp, could not haue her wyll.
He went out of dores, syttinge there styll.
She cround him with a pyspot, and their he
Was wet to the skynne, moste pytifull to se.
I praye god that such dames, be not in this place,
For then I might chaunce neare a mistres to get,
Nay yf ye anger them, they wyll laye you on the face,
Or elles their nayles in your chekes, they wyll set,
Nay lyke a rasor, fome of their nayles are whet.
That not for to pare, but to cut to the bone,
I count him most happest, that medelles with none.
Well far you well, for I must be packinge,
Remembar my wordes, and beare it in mynde?
What suffer the myll, a whyle to be clackinge,
Yf that you intend, aney ease for to fynde.
Then wyll they be to you, both louinge and kinde.
Farwell cosen cutpursse, and be ruled by me,
Or elles you may chaunce, to end on a tre.

Go out.

Enter Horestes and Hermione Nobilytye and Cominyalte truth and Dewty

Horestes

Syth y^t the gods haue geuen vs grace, this realme for to posses
Which florysheth aboundauntlye, with gold and great riches.
Let vs now se how much the wilds, and minde of all this land,
Is vnto vs and of their state, lykewyse to vnderstand.

Hermione

I deme of them Horestes myne, that they contentyd be,
With humbell hart for to submyte, o kyng them selues to ye,
Wherefore my loue inquiare, their state this preasente tyme,
And of their hartes good wyll to vs, o king let them deuyne.

Horestes

As I do loue the laydye bright, so eke I thynke in dede,
That loue for loue as equallye, shalbe reward of mede.

Let Dewty and Truth take the crowne in their rig-ht hands.

Hermione

The godes neuer prolonge my lyfe, that day I shall a peare,

To breake my fayth to the now plyght, my louing lord so dere.

Horestes

Com on my Lordes and commons eke, let me now vnderstand,
Of all your mindes for I desiare, to know what case this land
Doth now consyst voutsate the same, therfore to shew to me,
And yf that ought be now a myse, amendyd it shalbe.

Nobelles

Most regall Prynce we now are voyd, of mortall wars vexatiō
And through your grace we ar ioyned, in loue with euery nation.
So y^t your nobelles may now lyue, in pleasaunt state sartaine,
Deuoyd of wars and ciuill stryfes, whyle y^t your grace doth raine
The which you may I pray the god, with happy days and blys
And after death to send you there, where ioyse shall neuer mys.

As syne of our obedyence, lo Dewty doth the Crownd,
And Truth also which doth me bynd, they subiecte to be found.

Let truth and Dewty Crowne Horestes.

Horestes

My Nobels all I gyue you thankes, for this now showed to me
And as you haue so eke wyll I, the lyke show vnto ye.
My cōmons how gose it with you, your state now let me know,

Commons

Where as such on as you do raine, there nedes must riches gro
We are o king easyd of the yoke, which we haue so desiard.
The state of this our common welth, nede not to be inquiard.
Peace, welth, ioye, and felycitie, o kinge it is we haue,
And what thing is their y^t which, subiects ought more to craue

Horestes

Syeth all thinges is in so good state, my commons as you saye
That it may so contynew styll, the sacred godes I praye.
And as to me your trusteynes, shall anye wayes be found,
So styll to mayntayne your estate, I sureley shalbe bound.
And for your faythfull harts, the which you graūted haue to me
Both you my lordes, and commons eke, I thanke you hartele.
Therfore sith time wil haue an end, and now my mind you know
Let vs giue place to tyme, and to our pallase let vs go.

Nobles

We both wil waight vpon your grace, yft please you to depart

Commons

Eeuen when you please to waigh you on I shall with all my hart

Go out all and let truth and Duty speake.

Truth

A kyngdome kept in Amyte, and voyde of dissention,
Ne deuydyd in him selfe, by aney kynde of waye,
Neather prouoked by wordes, of reprehention,
Must nedes long contynew, as Truth doth saye.
For desention and stryfe, is the path to decaye.
And continuinge therein, must of nesecttie,
Be quight ruinate, and brought vnto myserye.

Duty

Where I Duty am neclected, of aney estate.
Their stryfe and dyssention, my place do supplye:
Cankred mallyse pryde, and debate,
Therefore to rest, all meanes do trye.
Then ruin comes after, of their state whereby,
They are vtterly extynguyshed, leuinge nought behynde,
Whereof so much as their, name we maye fynde.

Truth

He that leadeth his lyfe, as his phansey doth lyke,
Though for a whyle, the same he may hyde:
Yée Truth, the daughter of Tyme, wyll it seke,
And so in a tyme, it wyll be discryde.
Yet in such tyme as it can not, be denyed?
But receaue dew punnishment, as god shall se,
For the faute commytted, most conuenient to be.
As this storye here hath, made open vnto ye,
Which yf it haue byn marked, much prophet may aryse?
For as Truth sayth, nothinges wryten be,
But for our learninge, in anye kynde of wyse.
By which we may learne, the yll to dispyse,
And the truth to imitate, thus Truth doth saye:
The which for to do, I besech God we maye.

Duty

For your gentle pacience, we geue you thankes hartely,
And therefore our Duty weyed, let vs all praye,
For Elyzabeth our Quene, whose gratious maiestie:
May rayne ouer vs, in helth for aye,
Lyke wyse for her councell, that each of them maye.
Haue the spyryte of grace, their doinges to dyrecte,

In settinge vp vertue, and vyce to correcte.

Truth

For all the Nobylytie, and spiritualtie, let vs praye,

For Iudges, and head officers, what euer they be:

According to oure boundaunt dewties, espetially I saye,

For my Lord Mayre, lyfetennaunt of this noble Cytie.

And for all his brytherne, with the cominualtie.

That eache of them, doinge their dewties a ryght,

May after death posses heauen, to their hartes delyght.

Finis. Q. I. P.

{illustration}

ASTRIS SAPIENS DOMINABITUR

Imprinted at London to Fleet Street, at the sign of the Falcon by Wylliam Gryffith, and are to be sold at his shop in S. Dunstons Churcheyearde. Anno. 1567.

A New Enterlude of Vice Conteyninge, the the Historye of Horestes with the cruell reuengment of his Fathers death vpon his one naturall Mother

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