O king, the greatest grief that ever prince did hear,
That ever woeful messenger did tell,

That ever wretched land hath seen before,
I bring to you: Porrex your younger son
With sudden force invaded hath the land
That you to Ferrex did allot to rule;

And with his own most bloody hand he hath
His brother slain, and doth possess his realm.

Gor. O heavens, send down the flames of your re-
venge!

Destroy, I say, with flash of wreakful fire

The traitor son, and then the wretched sire!
But let us go, that yet perhaps I may
Die with revenge, and 'pease the hateful gods.

CHORUS.

The lust of kingdom knows no sacred faith, No rule of reason, no regard of right,

No kindly love, no fear of heaven's wrath:

[Exeunt.

But with contempt of gods, and man's despite,
Through bloody slaughter doth prepare the ways
To fital sceptre and accursed reign.

The won so bathes the father's lingering days,
Ne dreads his hand in brother's blood to stain.

O wretched prince, ne dost thou yet record

The yet fresh markers done within the landi Of thy forefathers, when the cruel sword

Bereft Morgan his life with cousin's hand : This final plars pursue the guilty race,

Wa mari rone hand, imòrued with guiltles blood.

A verzean still before the heaven's face,
With a mischiefs on the marsed brował
The wind child th w* brings to woeful are
The mournful paints to waste his very1 life.
This & heri dames of imi tre

Destroy the Sarted rim with hateful strife:
And betur fech qring the veil from which ich lov
The tube streams of mourning plainte mi ve.

57

ACT IV.-SCENE 1. VIDENA sola,

Why should I live, and linger forth my time
In longer life to double my distress?

O me, most woeful wight, whom no mishap
Long ere this day could have bereavéd hence.
Might not these hands, by fortune or by fate,
Have pierc'd this breast, and life with iron reft ?
Or in this palace here, where I so long

Have spent my days, could not that happy hour
Once, once have happ'd, in which these hugy frames
With death by fall might have oppressed me?
Or should not this most hard and cruel soil,
So oft where I have press'd my wretched steps,
Sometime had ruth of mine accursed life,
To rend in twain, and swallow me therein?
So had my bones possessed now in peace
Their happy grave within the closed ground,
And greedy worms had gnawn this pinéd heart
Without my feeling pain: so should not now
This living breast remain the ruthful tomb,
Wherein my heart, yielden to death, is graved;
Yor dreary thoughts, with pangs of pining grief,
My doit mind had not afflicted thus,

O my belored won! O my sweet child!

My dear Forex, my joy, my life's delight!
Is my beloveɔ won, la thy wweet child,
My dear Fors as the joj, my hate a delight,
O hateful witch'
Murder d with death?

O heizona tribX VAL Y heaven and earth!
Then, Porror, tron the datinéd deed hast, wrought,
Then P2. ta thais 4arly tye the wettie,
Trise to kin rau xind, to me, and the

That have disclosed his treason unto me,
Let him entreat that fears; I fear him not.
Or shall I to the king, my father send?
Yea, and send now, while such a mother lives,
That loves my brother, and that hateth me?
Shall I give leisure, by my fond delays,
To Ferrex to oppress me all unware?
I will not; but I will invade his realm,
And seek the traitor prince within his court.
Mischief for mischief is a due reward.
His wretched head shall pay the worthy price
Of this his treason and his hate to me.
Shall I abide, and treat, and send, and pray,
And hold my yielden throat to traitor's knife,
While I, with valiant mind and conquering force,
Might rid myself of foes, and win a realm?
Yet rather, when I have the wretch's head,
Then to the king, my father, will I send.
The bootless case may yet appease his wrath:
If not, I will defend me as I may.

[Exeunt PORREX and TYNDAR.

First, the music of flutes began to play, during which came in upon the stage a company of mourners, all clad in black, be tokening death and sorrow to ensue upon the ill-advised misgovernment and dissension of brethren, as befell upon the murder of Ferrex by his younger brother. After the mourners had passed thrice about the stage, they departed, and then the music ceased.

ACT III.

has only one scene, which opens with Gorboduc between his good counsellor, Eubulus, and his flatterer, Arostus, in extreme grief at news of the growth of discord, sent in a letter from Dordan, the good counsellor of Ferrex :—

Behold, my lords, read ye this letter here;
Lo, it contains the ruin of our realm,
If timely speed provide not hasty help.

Read, read my lords; this is the matter why
I called ye now, to have your good advice.

The letter from DORDAN, the Counsellor of the elder Prince.
EUBULUS readeth the letter.

My sovereign lord, what I am loath to write,
But loathest am to see, that I am forced
By letters now to make you understand.
My lord Ferrex, your eldest son, misled
By traitorous fraud of young untemper'd wits,
Assembleth force against your younger son,
Ne can my counsel yet withdraw the heat
And furious pangs of his inflaméd head.
Disdain, saith he, of his disheritance?
Arms him to wreak the great pretended 10 wrong
With civil sword upon his brother's life.

If present help do not restrain this rage,
This flame will waste your sons, your land, and you.
Your Majesty's faithful,

and most humble subject,
DORDAN.

Arostus advises that both sons be sent for, and that Gorboduc trust to their reverence of his honour age, and state; if that be not enough, let him joi force against whichever son is disobedient. But the enters Philander, the good counsellor of Porrex, t tell that the brothers are in arms against each other Gorboduc gives way to anger and despair. Philande suggests that loving Jove may have

-tempered so the time Of this debate to happen in your days, That you yet living may the same appease, And add it to the glory of your latter age, And they, your sons, may learn to live in peace.

Eubulus says, "Lo, here the peril that was er foreseen," but it is a time for action, not for va lament. Some wise and noble personage must car

And with thy sword have pierc'd this cursed womb That the accursed Porrex brought to light,

And given me a just reward therefore?

So Ferrex yet1 sweet life might have enjoyed,
And to his aged father comfort brought,

With some young son in whom they both might live.
But whereunto waste I this ruthful speech,

To thee that hast thy brother's blood thus shed?
Shall I still think that from this womb thou sprung?
That I thee bare? or take thee for my son?
No, traitor, no; I thee refuse for mine:
Murderer, I thee renounce; thou are not mine.
Never, O wretch, this womb conceived thee;
Nor never bode I painful throes for thee.
Changeling to me thou art, and not my child,
Nor to no wight that spark of pity knew.
Ruthless, unkind, monster of nature's work,
Thou never suck'd the milk of woman's breast;
But, from thy birth, the cruel tiger's teats
Have nursed thee; nor yet of flesh and blood
Form'd is thy heart, but of hard iron wrought;
And wild and desert woods bred thee to life.
But canst thou hope to 'scape my just revenge?
Or that these hands will not be wroke on thee?
Dost thou not know that Ferrex' mother lives,
That loved him more dearly than herself?
And doth she live, and is not venged on thee?

ACT IV.-SCENE 2.

GORBODUC; AROSTUS.

Gor. We marvel much, whereto this ling'ring stay Falls out so long: Porrex unto our court,

By order of our letters, is return'd;

And Eubulus received from us behest,

At his arrival here, to give him charge
Before our presence straight to make repair,
And yet we have no word whereof he stays.
Aros. Lo where he comes, and Eubulus with him.
Enter EUBULUS and PORREX,

Eub. According to your highness' hest to me,
Here have I Porrex brought, even in such sort
As from his wearied horse he did alight,
For that your grace did will such haste therein.
Gor. We like and praise this speedy will in you,
To work the thing that to your charge we gave.
Porrex, if we so far should swerve from kind,
And from those bounds which law 3 of nature sets,
As thou hast done by vile and wretched deed,
In cruel murder of thy brother's life,
Our present hand could stay no longer time,
But straight should bathe this blade in blood of thee,
As just revenge of thy detested crime.
No; we should not offend the law of kind,
If now this sword of ours did slay thee here:
For thou hast murder'd him, whose heinous death
Even nature's force doth move us to revenge
By blood again; and justice forceth us
To measure death for death, thy due desert.
Yet sithens thou 'rt our child, and sith as yet
In this hard case what word thou canst allege
For thy defence, by us hath not been heard,
We are content to stay our will for that
Which justice bids us presently to work,

And give thee leave to use thy speech at full, If ought thou have to lay for thine excuse.

Por. Neither, O king, I can or will deny
But that this hand from Ferrex life hath reft:
Which fact how much my doleful heart doth wail,
Oh! would it might as full appear to sight,
As inward grief doth pour it forth to me.
So yet, perhaps, if ever ruthful heart
Melting in tears within a manly breast,
Through deep repentance of his bloody fact;
If ever grief, if ever woeful man
Might move regret with sorrow of his fault,
I think the torment of my mournful case,
Known to your grace as I do feel the same,
Would force even Wrath herself to pity me.
But as the water, troubled with the mud,
Shows not the face which else the eye should see;
Even so your ireful, mind with stirred thought
Cannot so perfectly discern my cause.
But this unhap, amongst so many haps,

I must content me with, most wretched man,
That to myself I must reserve1 my woe,
In pining thoughts of mine accursed fact;
Sithens I may not show my smallest grief,
Such as it is, and as my breast endures,
Which I esteem the greatest misery

Of all mishaps that fortune now can send.
Not that I rest in hope with plaint and tears
To purchase life; for to the gods I clepe?
For true record of this my faithful speech;
Never this heart shall have the thoughtful dread
To die the death that by your grace's doom,
By just desert, shall be pronounced to me:
Nor never shall this tongue once spend the speech,
Pardon to crave, or seek by suit to live.

I mean not this as though I were not touch'd
With care of dreadful death, or that I held
Life in contempt: but that I know the mind
Stoops to no dread, although the flesh be frail.
And for my guilt, I yield the same so great
As in myself I find a fear to sue
For grant of life.

Por.

Yet this, O father, hear; And then I end. Your majesty well knows, That when my brother Ferrex and myself By your own hest were join'd in governance Of this your grace's realm of Britain land, I never sought nor travailed for the same; Nor by myself, nor by no friend I wrought, But from your highness' will alone it sprung, Of your most gracious goodness bent to me. But how my brother's heart even then repined With swollen disdain against mine equal rule, Seeing that realm, which by descent should grow Wholly to him, allotted half to me;

Even in your highness' court he now remains, And with my brother then in nearest place, Who can record what proof thereof was showed, And how my brother's envious heart appeared. Yet I that judgéd it my part to seek

His favour and good will, and loath to make