The tragedie of Gorboduc, whereof three actes were wrytten by Thomas Nortone, and the two laste by Thomas Sackuyle. Sett forthe as the same was shewed before the Quenes most excellent Maiestie, in her highnes court of Whitehall, the. xviij. day of Ianuary, anno Domini. 1561. By the Gentlemen of thynner Temple in London

Actus secundus. Scena prima.

Ferrex. Hermon. Dordan.

Ferrex.

I Meruaile muche what reason leade the kynge My father thus without all my desarte To reue me halfe y^• kingdome which by course Of lawe and nature shuld remayne to me.

Hermon.

If you with stubborne and vntamed pryde Had stood against him in rebellious wise, Or if with grudging minde you had enuied So slowe a slidynge of his aged yeres, Or sought before your time to haste the course Of fatall death vpon his Royall head, Or stained your Stocke with murder of your kyn: Some face of reason might perhaps haue seemed To yelde some likely cause to spoile ye thus.

Ferrex.

The wrekefull Gods powre on my cursed head, Eternall plagues and neuer dyinge woes, The Hellish Prince, adiudge my dampned ghoste To Tantalus thirste, or proude Ixims wheele Or cruell Gripe to gnawe my growing harte To durynge tormentes and vnquenched flames If euer I conceiued so foule a thought, To wisshe his ende of life, or yet of reigne.

Dordan.

Ne yet your father (O most noble Prince) Did euer thinke so fowle a thing of you For he with more than fathers tendre loue While yet the fates do lende him life to rule, (Who long might lyue to so your rulynge well) To you my Lorde, and to his other sonne Lo he resignes his Realme and Royaltie Whiche neuer would so wise a Prince haue done If he had ones misdemed that in your harte There euer lodged so vnkinde a thought. But tendre loue (my Lorde) and setled truste Of your good nature, and your nable minde Made him to place you thus in Royall throne And now to geue you half his realme to guide Yea and that halfe within abounding store Of things that serue to make a welthie Realme In statelie Cities and in frutefull soyle, In temperate breathing of the milder heauen, In thinges of nedefull vse, whiche frendlie Sea Transportes by traffike from the forreine Portes, In flowing wealth, in honour and in force,

Doth passe the double value of the parte That Porrex hath alloted to his reigne, Suche is your ease, suche is your fathers loue.

Ferrex.

Ah loue, my frendes, loue wrongs not whom he loues.

Dordan.

Ne yet he wrongeth you that geueth you So large a reigne ere that the course of tyme Bringe you to kingdome by discended right, Which time perhaps might end your time before.

Ferrex.

Is this no wrong, saie you, to reaue from me My natiue right to halfe so great a realme, And thus to matche his yonger sonne with me In egall power, and in as great degree: Yea & what sonne? y^e sonne whose swellyng pryde Woulde neuer yelde one poinct of reuerence, Whan I the Elder and apparaunt heire Stoode in the likelyhode to possesse the whole Yea and that sonne whiche from his childishe age Enuieth myne honour, and doth hate my life, What will he nowe do? when his pride, his rage, The mindefull malice of his grudging harte Is armed with force, with wealth and kingly state

Hermon.

Was this not wrong? yea yll aduised wrong To giue so mad a man so sharpe a sworde, To so great perill of so great mishappe, Wide open thus to set so large a waye.

Dordan.

Alas my Lorde, what griefull thing is this?

That of your brother you can thinke so ill I neuer sawe him vtter likelie signe Whereby a man might see or once misdeme Suche hate of you, ne suche vnyeldinge pride Ill is their counsell, shamefull be their ende, That raising suche mistrustfull feare in you, Sowing the seede of suche vnkindly hate, Trauaile by reason to destroy you both:) Wise is your brother and of noble hope, Worthie to welde a large and mightie Realme So muche a stronger frende haue you therby, Whose strēgth is your strēgth, if you gree in one.

Hermon.

If nature and the Goddes had pinched so Their flowing bountie and their noble giftes Of Princelie qualyties from you my Lorde And powrde them all at ones in wastfull wise Vpon your fathers younger sonne alone: Perhappes there be that in your preiudice Would saie that birth shuld yeld to worthines: But sithe in eche good gift and Princelie Acte Ye are his matche, and in the chiefe of all In mildenes and in sobre gouernauce Ye farre surmount: And sithe there is in you Sufficing skill and hopefull towardnes To weld the whole, and match you Elders praise I see no cause whie ye should loose the halfe, Ne wold I wisshe you yelde to suche a losse: Lest your milde sufferaunce of so great a wronge Be deemed cowardishe and simple dreade: Whiche shall geue courage to the fierie head

Of your yonge Brother to inuade the whole, Whiles yet therfore stickes in the peoples mynde The lothed wronge of your disheritaunce, And ere your Brother haue by settled power, By guyle full cloke of an allurynge showe, Got him some force and fauour in this Realme And while the noble Queene your mother lyues, To worke and practice all for your auaile Attempt redresse by Armes, and wreake your selfe Vpon his life, that gaineth by your losse, Who nowe to shame of you, and griefe of vs In your owne kingdome triumphes ouer you: Shew now your courage meete for kingly estate That thei which haue auowed to spēd their goods Their landes, their liues & honours in your cause, Maye be the bolder to mainteine your parte Iohan thei do see that cowarde feare in you, Shall not betraye ne saile their faithfull hartes. If ones the death of Porrex ende the strife, And paie the price of his vsurped Reigne, Your Mother shall perswade the angry kynge, The Lords your frends eke shall appease his rage For thei be wise, and well thei can forsee, That ere longe time your aged fathers death will brynge a time when you shall well requite Their frendlie fauour, or their hatefull spite. Yea, or their slackenes to auaunce your cause Wise men do not so hange on passyng state Of present Princes, chiefely in their age. But they will further cast their reachinge eye To viewe and weigh the times & reignes to come

Ne is it lykely thoughe the kinge be wrothe That he yet will, or that the Realme will beare Extreme reuenge vpon his onelye sonne: Or if he woulde, what one is he that dare Be ministre to suche an enterprise. And here you be nowe placed in your owne Amyd your frendes, your vassalles & your strength We shall defende and kepe your person safe Tyll either counsell turne his tender minde Or age, or sorowe ende his werie daies But if the feare of Goddes and secrete grudge Of Natures Lawe, repynynge at the facte, Withholde your courage from so great attempt: Knowe ye that lust of kingdomes hath no Lawe The Goddes do beare and well allowe in kinges The thinges they abhorre in rascall routes. When kinges on sclender quarrels ron to warres And than in cruell and vnkindely wise, Cōmaunde theftes, rapes, murder of Innocentes To spoile of townes, & reignes of mighty realmes Thinke you such Princes do suppresse them selues Subiect to Lawes of kinde and feare of Gods, Yet none offence, but decked with glorious name Of noble Conquestes in the handes of kinges, Murders and violent theftes in priuate men Are heynous crymes and full of foule reproche: But if you like not yet so hote deuise, Ne list to take suche vauntage of the time. But thoughe with great perill of your state You wil not be the first that shall inuade, Assemble yet your force for your defence,

And for your safetie stande vpon your garde.

Dordan.

O heauen was there euer harde or knowen, So wicked Counsell to a noble Prince? Let me (my Lorde) disclose vnto your grace This heynous tale, what mischiefe it conteynes: Your fathers death, your brothers and your owns your present murder and eternall shame: Heare me (O king) and suffre not to sinke So highe a treason in your Princelie brest.

Ferrex.

The mightie Goddes forbyd that euer I Shuld once conceiue suche mischiefe in my harte Althoughe my Brother hath bereft my Realme And beare perhappes to me and hatefull minde. Shall I reuenge it, with his death therfore? Or shall I so destroy my fathers lyfe That gaue me life? the Gods forbyd I saye, Cease you to speake so any more to me Ne you my friende with Aunswere once repeate So foule a tale, in scilence let in die: What Lorde or Subiect shall haue hope at all That vnder me they safely shall enioye Their goods, their honours, landes and liberties, With whome, neither one onely brother deare Ne father dearer, coulde enioye their lyues? But sithe, I feare my younger brothers rage, And sithe perhappes some other man may gyue Some like aduise, to moue his grudging head At mine estate: whiche counsell may perchaunce Take greater force with him, than this with me,

I will in secrete so prepare my selfe, As if his malice or his lust to reigne Breake forth with Armes or sodeine violence I may withstande his rage and kepe myns owne.

Dordan.

I feare the fatall time now draweth on When ciuyll hate shall ende the noble lyne Of famouse Brute and of his Royall seede Great Ioue defende the mischiefes nowe at hande O that the Secretaries wise aduise Had erst ben harde whan he besought the kynge Not to deuide his lande, nor sende his sonnes To further partes from presence of his Courte Ne yet to yelde to them his gouernaunce Lo suche are they nowe in the Royall throne As was rashe Phaeton in Phebus Carre Ne then the fiery stedes did drawe the flame With wilder randon through the kindled skies Then traiterous councell now will wherle about The youthfull heads of these vnskilfull kinges, But I hereof their father will enforeme The reuerence of him perhappes shall staye The growing mischiefes, while thei yet are grene If this helpe not, then wo vnto them selues, The Prince, the people, the deuided lande.

Actus secundus, Scena secunda.

Porrex. Tyndar. Philander.

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Porrex

ANd is it thus? And doth he so prepare Against his Brother as his mortall foe? And nowe whyle yet his aged father lyues: Neither regardes be him? nor feares he me? Warre would he haue? and he shall haue it so.

Tyndar.

I sawe my selfe the great prepared store Of Horse, of Armours and of weapons there, Ne brynge I to my Lorde reported tales Without the ground of seene and serched trouthe Loe secrete quarrelles ronne about his Courte To bringe the name of you my Lorde in hate Eche man almost can nowe debate the cause And aske a reason of so great a wronge, While he so noble and so wise a Prince, Is as vnworthie rest his Heritage. And whie the kinge mislead by craftie meanes Deuided thus his lande from course of right. The wiser sorte holde downe their griefull heades Eche man withdrawes from talke and companie, Of those that haue ben knowen to fauour you, To hide the mischiefe of their meaninge there. Rumours are spred of your preparynge here. The Rascall nombres of the vnskilfull sorts Are filled with monsterous tales of you and yours In secrete I was counsailed by my friendes To hast me thence, and brought you as you know Letters from those, that both can truely tell And would not write vnlesse they knewe it well.

Philander.

My Lorde, yet ere you nowe vnkindely warre, Sende to your Brother to demaunde the cause. Perhappes some trayterous tales haue filled his eares w^t false reports against your noble grace: Which once disclosed shal ende the growing strife That els not staied with wise foresight in time Shall hazarde both your kingdomes & your lyues: Sende to your father eke, he shall appeale Your kindled mindes, and rid you of this feare.

Porrex.

Ridde me of feare? I feare him not at all: Ne will to him, ne to my father sende If daunger were for one to tarye there Thinke ye it safely to retourne againe. In mischiefes suche as Ferrex nowe intendes The wanted courteous Lawes to Messengeres Are not obserued, whiche in iust warre they vse, Shall I so hazarde any one of myne? Shall I betraie my trustie friende to hym? That hath disclosed his treason vnto me? Let him entreate that feares, I feare him not: Or shall I to the kinge my father sende? Yea and sende nowe while suche a mother lyues That loues my Brother and that hateth mee? Shall I geue leasure by my fonde delayes To Forrex to oppresse me at vnware? I will not, but I will inuade his Realme And seeke the Traitour Prince within his Court Mischiefe for mischiefe is a due rewarde. His wretched head shall paie the worthie pryce

Of this his Treason and his hate to me Shall I abide, entreate and sende and praie? And holde my yelden throate to Traitours knife? While I with valiaunt minde & conquering force Might rid my selfe of foes: and winne a Realme, Yet rather when I haue the wretches head, Than to the king my father will I sende, The booteles case may yet appease his wrath: If not I will defend me as I maye.

Philander.

Loe here the ende of these two youthfull kings The fathers deth, the reigne of their two realmes O most vnhappy state of Counsellours That light on so vnhappy Lordes and times That neither can their good aduise be harde, Yet must thei beare the blames of yll successe But I will to the king their father haste Ere this mischiefe come to that likely ende, That if the mindefull wrath of wrekefull Gods Since mightie Ilions fall not yet appeased With these poore remnant of the Troians name Haue not determinedlie vnmoued fate Out of this Realme to rase the Brutish Line By good aduise, by awe of fathers name By force of wiser Lordes, this kindled hate Maye yet be quentched, ere it consume vs all.

Chorus.

Whan youth not bridled with a guyding staie fraie, Is left to randon of their owne delight And welds whole Realmes, by force of soueraigne

Great is the daunger of vnmaistred might Lest skilles rage throwe downe with headlong fal Their lands, their states, their liues, them selues & all.

When growing pride doth fil the swelling brest And gredy lust doth raise the clymbynge minde Oh hardlie maye the perill be represt, Ne feare of angrie Goddes, ne Lawes kinde, Ne Countrie care can fiered hartes restrayne Whan force hath armed Enuie and disdaine.

VVhan kinges of foreset wyll neglecte the rede, Of best aduise, and yelde to pleasinge tales That do their fansies noysome humour feede He reason, nor regarde of right auailes Succedinge heapes of plagues shall teache to late To learne the mischiefes of misguydinge state.

Fowle fall the Traitour false that vndermines The loue of Brethrene to destroye them bothe Wo to the Prince, that pliant eare enclynes, And yeldes his minde to poysonous tale, y^t floweth From flatterynge mouth, & wo to wretched lande That wasts it selfe with ciuyll sworde in hande. Loe, thus it is poyson in golde to take, And holsome drinke in homely Cuppe forsake.