CERTAINE SMALL POEMS LATELY PRINTED: with the Tragedie of Philotas.
Written by SAMVEL DANIEL.
Carmen amat, quisquis carmine digna gerit.
AT LONDON Printed by G. Eld for Simon Waterson. 1605.
To the right Honourable and most vertuous Ladie, the Ladie Margaret Countesse of Cumberland.
ALthough the meaner sort (whose thoughts are plac'd
As in another region, farre below
The Sphere of greatnesse) cannot rightly taste
What touch it hath, nor right her passions know:
Yet haue I here aduentur'd to bestow
Words vpon griefe, as my griefes comprehend,
And made this great afflicted Ladie show
Out of my feelings, what she might haue pend.
And here the same, I bring forth, to attend
Vpon thy reuerent name, to liue with thee
Most vertuous Ladie, that vouchsaf'st to lend
Eare to my notes, and comfort vnto me,
That one day may thine owne faire vertues spread
Be'ing Secretarie now, but to the dead.
The Argument.
VPon the second agreement (the first being broken through iealousie of a disproportion of eminencie) betweene the Triumuiti Octauius Caesar, Marcus Antonius, and Lepidus: Octauia the sister of Octauius Caesar, was maried to Antonius, as a linke to combine that which neuer yet, the greatest strength of nature, or anie power of nearest respect could long hold togither, who made but the instrument of others endes, and deliuered vp as an Ostage to serue the oportunity of aduantages, met not with that integritie she brought: but as highly preferred to affliction encountred with all the greeuances that beat vpon the misery of greatnesse, exposed to stand betwixt the diuers tending humours of vnquiet parties. For Antonie hauing yet vpon him the fetters of AEgipt, layde on by the power of a most incomparable beauty, could admit no new lawes into the state of his affection, or dispose of himselfe being not himselfe, but as hauing his heart turned Eastward whither the point of his desires were directed, toucht with the strongest allurements that ambition, and a licencious soueraintie could draw a man vnto: could not truly descend to the priuate loue [Page] of a ciuill nurtred. Matrone, whose entertainment bounded with modesty and the nature of her education, knew not to cloth her affections in any other colours then the plain habit of truth: wherein she euer suted al her actions [...] and vsed all her best ornaments of honesty, to win the good liking of him that helde her but as a Curtaine drawne betweene him and Octauius to shadow his other purposes withall; which the sharpe sight of an equally iealous ambition could soone pierce into, & as easily looke thorow and ouer bloud and nature as he to abuse it: And therefore to preuent his aspiring, he armes his forces either to reduce Antonie to the ranke of his estate, or else to disranke him out of state and al. When Octauia by the imployment of Antonie (as being not yet ready to put his fortune to her triall) throwes her selfe, great with childe, and a [...] big with sorrow, into the trauaile of a most laboursome recon [...]iliacion: taking her iourney from the farthest parte of Greece to find Octauius, with whom her care and teares were so good agents that they effected their Commission beyond all expectation, and for that time quite disarmed their wrath, which yet long could not hold so. For Antonius falling into the relaps of his former disease, watching his oportunity got ouer again into Egypt, where he so forgot himselfe, that he quite put off his owne nature, and wholy became a pray to his pleasures, as if hee had wound himselfe out of the respect of Country, bloud & alliance, which gaue to Octauia the cause of much affliction, and to me the Argument of this letter.
A Letter sent from Octauia to her husband Marcus Antonius into AEgypt.
1
TO thee (yet deere) though most disloyall Lord,
Whom impious loue keeps in a barbarous land,
Thy wronged wife Octauia sendeth word
Of th'vnkind wounds receiued by thy hand,
Great Antony, ô let thine eyes afford
But to permit thy heart to vnderstand
The hurt thou dost, and do but read her teares
That still is thine though thou wilt not be hers.
2
Although perhaps, these my complaints may come
Whilst thou in th'armes of that incestious Qeeene
The staine of Aegypt, and the shame of Rome
Shalt dallying sit, and blush to haue them seene:
Whilst proud disdainfull she, gessing from whome
The message came, and what the cause hath beene,
Will scorning say, saith, this comes from your Deere,
Now sir you must be shent for staying heere.
3
From her indeed it comes, delitious dame,
(Thou royall Concubine, and Queene of lust)
Whose armes yet pure, whose brests are void of blame,
And whose most lawfull flame proues thine vniust:
[Page]Tis she that sends the message of thy shame,
And his vntruth that hath betraid her trust:
Pardon, deare lord, from her these sorrows are
Whose bed brings neither infamie nor warre.
4
And therefore heare her words, that too too much
Hath heard the wronges committed by thy shame;
Although at first my trust in thee was such
As it held out against the strongest fame;
My heart would neuer let in once a touch
Of least beliefe, till all confirmd the same:
That I was almost last that would belieue
Because I know mee first that most must grieue.
5
How oft haue poore abused I tooke parte
With falshood onely for to make thee true?
How oft haue I argued against my heart
Not suffring it to know that which it knew?
And for I would not haue thee what thou arte
I made my selfe, vnto my selfe vntrue:
So much my loue labourd against thy Sinne
To shut our feare which yet kept feare within:
6
For I could neuer thinke th'aspiring mind
Of worthy and victorious Antonie,
Could be by such a Syren so declinde,
As to be traind a pray to Luxury:
I could not thinke my Lord would be s [...] vnkind
As to despise his Children, Rome and me:
But ô how soone are they deceiued that trust
And more their shame, that wilbe so vniust.
7
But now that certaine same hath open laid
Thy new relaps, and strange reuolt from mee,
Truth hath quite beaten all my hopes away
and made the passage of my sorrows free:
For now poore hart, there's nothing in the way
Remaines to stand betwixt despaire and thee;
All is throwne downe, there comes no succors newe
It is most true, my Lord is most vntrue.
8
And now I may with shame inough pull in
The colours I aduanced in his grace
For that subduing powre, that him did win
Hath lost me too, the honour of my face:
Yet why should I bearing no part of sinne
Beare such a mightie part of his disgrace?
Yes though it be not mine, it is of mine;
And his renowne being clips'd, mine cannot shine,
9
Which makes me as I do, hide from the eie
Of the misiudging vulger that will deeme,
That sure there was in me some reason why
Which made thee thus, my bed to disesteeme:
So that alas poore vndeseruing I
A cause of thy vncleane deserts shall seeme,
Though lust takes neuer ioy in what is t [...]ue,
But still leaues known delights to seeke out new.
10
And yet my brother Caesar laboured
To haue me leaue thy house, and liue more free,
But God forbid, Octauia should be led
[Page]To leaue to liue in thine, though left by thee
The pledges here of thy forsaken bed,
Are still the obiects that remember me
What Antony was once, although false now,
And is my Lord, though he neglect his vow.
11
These walles that here do keepe me out of sight
Shall keepe me all vnspotted vnto thee,
And testifie that I will do thee right,
Ile neuer staine thy house, though thou shame me:
The now sad Chamber of my once delight
Shall be the temple of my pietie
Sacred vnto the faith I reuerence,
Where I will pay my teares for thy offence.
12
Although my youth, thy absence, and this wrong
Might draw my bloud to forfeit vnto shame,
Nor need I frustrate my delights so long
That haue such meanes to carry so the same,
Since that the face of greatnesse is so strong
As it dissolues suspect, and beares out blame,
Hauing all secret helps that long thereto
That seldome wants there ought but will to do:
13
Which yet to do, ere lust this heart shall frame
Earth swallow me aliue, hell rap me hence:
Shall I because despisd contemne my shame,
And add disgrace to others impudence?
What can my powre but giue more powre to fame?
Greatnesse must make it great incontinence;
Chambers are false, the bed and all will tell,
[Page]No doore keepes in their shame that do not well.
14
Hath greatnesse ought peculiar else alone
But to stand faire and bright aboue the base?
What doth deuide the cottage from the throne,
If vice shall lay both leuell with disgrace?
For if vncleannesse make them but all one
What priuiledge ha [...]h honor by his place?
What though our sinnes go braue and better clad,
They are as those in rags as base as bad.
15
I know not how, but wrongfully I know
Hath vndiscerning custome plac'd our kind
Vnder desert, and set vs farre below
The reputation to our sexe assign'd;
Charging our wrong reputed weakenes, how
We are vnconstant, fickle, false, vnkinde:
And though our life with thousand proofs shewes no
Yet since strength saies it, weaknes must be so.
16
Vnequall partage to b'allow'd no share
Of power to do of lifes best benefite;
But stand as if we interdicted were
Of vertue, action, libertie and might:
Must you haue all, and not vouchsafe to spare
Our weaknes any intrest of delight?
Is there no portion left for vs at all,
But sufferance, sorrow, ignorance and thrall?
17
Thrice happy you in whom it is no fault,
To know, to speake, to do, and to be wise:
[Page]Whose words haue credit, and whose deeds though naught
Must yet be made to seeme far otherwise:
You can be onely heard whilst we are taught
To hold our peace, and not to exercise
The powers of our best parts, because your parts
Haue with our freedome robb'd vs of our hearts,
18
We in this prison of our selues confin'd
Must here shut vp with our own passions liue
Turn'd in vpon vs, and denied to find
The vent of outward means that might relieue:
That they alone must take vp all our mind;
And no roome left vs, but to thinke and grieue,
Yet oft our narrowed thoughts looke more direct
Then your loose wisdoms borne with wild neglect.
19
For should we too (as God forbid we should)
Carry no better hand on our desires
Then your strength doth; what int'rest could
Our wronged patience paie you for your hires?
What mixture of strange generations would
Succeed the fortunes of vncertaine Sires?
What foule confusion in your blood and race
To your immortall shame, and our disgrace?
20
What? are there bars for vs, no bounds for you?
Must leuitie stand sure, though firmnes fall?
And are you priuiledg'd to be vntrue,
And we no grant to be dispens'd withall?
Must we inuiolable keepe your due,
Both to your loue, and to your falshood thrall?
[Page]Whilst you haue stretch'd your lust vnto your will
As if your strength were licenc'd to do ill.
21
O if you be more strong then be more iust
Cleere this suspition, make not the world to doubt,
Whether in strong, or weake be better trust,
If frailry, or else valour be more stout:
And if we haue shut in our hearts from lust
Let not your bad example let them out,
Thinke that there is like [...]eeling in our bloud,
If you will haue vs good, be you then good.
22
Is it that loue doth take no true delight
In what it hath, but still in what it would,
Which drawes you on to do vs this vnright,
Whilst feare in vs of loosing what we hold
Keepes vs in still to you, that set vs light,
So that what you vnties, doth vs infold?
Then loue tis thou that dost confound vs so
To make our truth the occasion of our wo.
23
Distressed woman kind that either must
For louing loose your loues, or get neglect;
Whilst wantons are more car'd for then the iust
And falshood cheerisht, faith without respect:
Better she fares in whom is lesser trust,
And more is lou'd that is in more suspect.
Which (pardon me) shews no great strength of minde
To be most theirs, that vse you most vnkinde.
24
Yet well it fit [...] for that sinne euer must
Be tortur'd with the racke of his owne frame,
[Page]For he that holds no faith shall find no trust:
But sowing wrong is sure to reape the same:
How can he looke to haue his measure iust
That fils deceipt, and reckons not of shame,
And being not pleas'd with what he [...]ath in lo [...]
Shall euer pine for that which he hath not?
25
Yet if thou couldst not loue, thou mightst haue seem'd
Though to haue seem'd had likewise beene vniust:
Yet so much are leane shewes of vs esteem'd
That oft they feed, though not suffice our trust,
Because our nature grieueth to be deem'd
To be so wrong'd, although we be and must.
And i'ts some ease yet to be kindly vs'd
In outward shew, though secretly abus'd.
26
But wo to her, that both in shew despis'd.
And in effect disgrac'd and left forlorne,
For whom no comforts are to be deuis'd,
Nor no new hopes can euermore, be borne:
O Antony, could it not haue suffiz'd
That I was thine, but must be made her skorne
That enuies all our bloud, and doth deuide
Thee from thy selfe, onely to serue her pride?
27
What fault haue I committed that should make
So great dislike of me and of my loue?
Or doth thy fault but an occasion take
For to dislike what most doth it reproue?
Because the conscience gladly would mistake
Her own misdeedes which she would faine remoue,
[Page]And they that are vnwilling to amend
Will take offence because they will offend.
28
Or hauing run beyond all pardon quite
They flie and ioyne with sin as wholy his,
Making it now their side their part, their right,
And to turne backe would shew t'haue done amisse:
For now they thinke not to be opposite
To what obraides their fault, were wickednesse:
So much doth folly thrust them into blame
That euen to leaue off shame, they count it shame.
29
Which do not thou deere Lord, for I do not
Pu [...]su [...] thy fault, but sue for thy retourne
Backe to thy selfe, whom thou hast both forgot
With me, poore me, that doth not spight but mourne.
And if thou couldst as well amend thy blot
As I forgiue, these plaints had beene forborne:
And thou shouldst be the same vnto my hart
Which once thou were, not that which now thou art.
30
Though deepe doth sit the hard recouering smart
Of that last wound (which God grant be the last)
And more doth touch that tender feeling part
Of my sad soule, then all th'vnkindnes past:
And Antony I appeale to thine own hart,
(If th'h [...]rt which once was thine thou yet still hast)
To iudge if euer woman that did liue
Had iuster cause, then wretched I, to grieue.
31
For comming vnto Athens as I did,
[Page]Wearie and weake with [...]oyle, and all distrest,
After I had with sorrow compassed
A hard consent, to graunt me that request:
And how my trauaile was considered
And all my care, and cost, thy selfe knowes best:
That wouldst not moue one foot from lust for me
That had left all was deere to come to thee:
32
For first what great ado had I to win.
My offended brother Caesars backward will?
And praid, and wept, and cride to stay the sinne
Of ciuill rancor rising twixt you still:
For in what [...]as [...] shall wretched I be in,
Set betwixt both to share with both your ill?
My blood said I with either of you goes,
Who euer win, I shall be sure to lose.
33
For what shame should such mighty persons get
For two weake womens cause to disagree?
Nay what shall I that shall be deem'd to set
Th'inkindled fire, seeming inflam'd for me?
O if I be the motiue of this heate
Let these vnguilty hands the quenchers bee,
And let me trudge to mediate an accord
The Agent twixt my brother and my Lord.
34
With praiers, vowes and teares, with vrging hard
I wrung from him a slender grant at last,
And with the rich prouisions I prepaid
For thy (intended Parthian war) made hast
Weighing not how my poore weake body far'd,
[Page]But all the tedious difficulties past:
And came to Athens; whence I Niger sent
To shew thee of my comming and intent.
35
Whereof when he had made relation:
I was commanded to approch no neare?
Then sent I backe to know what should de done
With th'horse, and men, and monie I had there:
Whereat perhaps when some remorse begun
To touch thy soule, to thinke yet what we were.
Th'Inchanters straight steps twixt thy hart & the
And intercepts all thoughts that came of mee.
36
She armes her teares, the ingins of deceit
And all her battery, to oppose my loue;
And bring thy comming grace to a retrait
The powre of all her subtilty to proue:
Now pale and faint she languishes, and straight
Seemes in a sound vnable more to moue:
Whilst her instructed followers plie thine eares.
with forged passions, mixt with fained teares.
37.
Hard-harted lord: say they, how canst thou see
This mighty Queene a creature so diuine,
Lie thus distrest, and languishing for thee
And onely wretched but for being thine?
Whilst base Octauia must intitled bee
Thy wife, and she esteem'd thy concubine:
Aduance thy heart, raise it vnto his right
And let a seepter baser passions quit:
38
Thus they assaile thy natures weakest side
And worke vpon th'aduantage of thy mind,
Knowing where iudgment stood least fortified
And how t'incounter folly in her kinde:
But yet the while O what dost thou abide,
Who in thy selfe such wrastling thoughts dost finde?
In what confused case is thy soule in
Rackt betwixt pitie, sorrow, shame and sin?
39
I cannot tell but sure I dare beleeue
My trauailes needs must some cōpassion moue:
For no such locke to bloud could nature giue
To shut out pitie, though it shut out loue:
Conscience must leaue a little way to grieue
To let in horror comming to reproue,
The guilt of thy offence that caus'd the same,
For deepest woūds the hand, of our owne shame.
40
Neuer haue vniust pleasures beene compleet
In ioyes intire, but still feare kept the dore
And held back something from that ful of sweet
To interfowre vnsure delights the more:
For neuer did all circumstances meete
With those desires which were cōceiu'd before
Something must still be left to check our sinne,
And giue a touch of what should not haue bin.
41
Wretched mankind, wherefore hath nature made
The lawfull vndelightfull, th'vniust shame?
[Page]As if our pleasure onely were forbade,
But to giue fire to lust, t'ad greater flame;
Or else but as ordained more to lade
Our heart with passions to confound the same,
Which though it be, yet ad not worse to ill,
Do, as the best men do, bound thine owne will.
42
Redeeme thy selfe, a [...]d now at length make peace
With thy deuided hart opprest with toyle:
Breake vp this war, this brest dissention cease,
Thy passions to thy passions reconcile:
I do not only seeke my good t'increase,
But thine owne ease, and liberty the while:
Thee in the circuite of thy selfe confine.
And be thine owne, and then thou wilt be mine.
43
I know my pittied loue, doth aggrauate
Enuy and wrath for these wrongs offered:
And that my suffrings adde with my estate
Coales in thy bosome, hatred on thy head:
Yet is not that, my, fault, but my hard fate,
Who rather wish to haue beene vnpitied
Of all but thee, then that my loue should be
Hurtfull to him that is so deere to me.
44
Cannot the busie world let me alone
To beare alone the burthen of my griefe,
But they must intermeddle with my mone
And seeke t'offend me with vnsought reliefe?
Whilst my afflictions labour'd to moue none
[Page]But only thee; must pitty play the thiefe,
To steale so many harts to hurt my hart,
And moue a part against my deerest part,?
45
Yet all this shall not preiudice my Lord
If yet he will but make returne at last,
His sight shall raze out of the sad record
Of my inrowled griefe all that is past;
And I will not so much as once affoord
Place for a thought to thinke I was disgrac'st:
And pity shall bring back againe with me
Th'offended harts that haue forsaken thee,
46
And therefore come deere lord, least longer stay
Do arme against thee all the powers of spight.
And thou bee made at last the wofull pray
Of full inkindled wrath, and ruin'd quite:
But what presaging thought of bloud doth stay
My trembling hand, and doth my soule affright?
What horror do I see, prepar'd t'attend
Th'euent of this? what end vnlesse thou end?
47
With what strange formes and shadowes ominous
Did my last sleepe, my grieu'd soule intertaine?
I dreampt, yet ô, dreames are but friuolous,
And yet Ile tell it, and God graunt it vaine.
Me thought a mighty Hippopotamus
A Sea Horse.
From Nilus floting, thrusts into the maine,
Vpon whose backe a wanton Mermaid sate,
As if she ruld his course and steerd his [...]ite.
48
With whom t'incounter, forth another makes,
Alike in kind, of strength and powre as good:
At whose ingrappling Neptunes mantle takes
A purple colour dyde with streames of bloud,
Whereat, this looker on, amaz'd forsakes
Her Champion there, who yet the better stood;
But se'ing her gone straight after her he hies
As if his hart and strength laye in her eies:
49
On followes wrath vpon disgrace and feare,
Whereof th'euent forsooke me with the night,
But my wak'd cares, gaue me, these shadowes were
Drawne but from darknes to instruct the light,
These secret figures, natures message beare
Of comming woes, where they desciphered right;
But if as cloudes of sleepe thou shalt them take,
Yet credit wrath and spight that are awake.
50
Preuent great spirit the tempest that begin,
If lust and thy ambition haue left way
But to looke out, and haue not shut all in,
To stop thy iudgement from a true suruay
Of thy estate; and let thy hart within
Consider in what danger thou doost lay
Thy life and mine [...] to leaue the good thou hast,
To follow hopes with shadows ouercast,
51
Come, come away from wrong, from craft, frō toile,
Possesse thine owne with right, with truth, with peace;
[Page]Breake from these snares, thy iudgment vnbeguile.
Free thine owne torment, and my griefe release.
But whither am I carried all this while
Beyond my scope, and know not when to cease?
Words still with my increasing so [...]owes grow;
I know t'haue said too much but not ynow.
Wherefore no more but onely I commend
To thee the hart that's thine, and so I end,
FINIS.
THE TRAGEDIE of Cleopatra. To the Lady Marie Countisse of Pembrooke.
‘AEtas prima canat veneres postrema tumultus.’
The Argument.
AFter the death of Antonius, Cleopatra, (liuing still in the Monument she had caused to be built,) could not, by any meanes be drawne foorth, although Octauius Caesar very earnestly laboured it: and sent Proculeius, to vse all dilligence to bring her vnto him: for that he thought it would bee a great Ornament to his Triumphes, to get her aliue to Rome. But neuer would she put her selfe into the hands of Proculeius, although on a time hee found the meanes, (by a window that was at the toppe of the Monument) to come downe vnto he [...] where hee perswaded her (all hee might) to yeelde her selfe to Caesars mercy. Which shee, (to be ridde of him,) cunningly seemed to grant vnto. After that, Octauius in person went to visit her, to whom she excused her offence, laying all the fault vpon the greatnes, and feare she had of Antonius, and withall, seemed very tractable, and willing to be disposed of by him.
Wherevpon Octauius, (thinking himselfe sure) resolued presently to send her away to Rome. Whereof, Dolabella, a fauourite of Caesars, (and one that was growne into some good liking of her ) hauing certified her, shee makes her humble petition to Caesar, that he would suffer [Page] her to sacrifice to the ghost of Antonius: which being grā ted her, she was brought vnto his sepulchre, where, after her rites performed, she returned to the monument, and there dined with great magnific [...]nce. And in dinner time, came there one in the habite of a countr [...]man, with a basket of Figs vnto her, who (vnsuspected) was suffered to carry them in. And in that Basket (among the Figges) were conueyed the Aspickes wherewith she did her selfe to death. Dinner being ended, she dispatched Letters to Caesar, containing great lamentations [...] with an earnest supplication, that she might be intombed with Antonius. Whereupon Caesar knowing what she intended, sent presently with all speede, Messengers to haue preuented her death, which notwithstanding, before they came, was dispatched.
Caesario her sonne, which she had by Iulius Caesar (con [...]eyed before vnto India, out of the danger of the warres) was about the same time of her death, murthered at Rhodes: trained thither by the falshoode of his Tutor, corrupted by Caesar. And so, hereby came the race of the Prolomies to be wholy extinct, and the flourishing rich kingdome of Egypt vtterly ouerthrowne and subdued.
THE TRAGEDIE of Cleopatra.
The Scaene supposed Alexandria.
THE ACTORS
- Cleopatra.
- Octauius Caesar.
- Proculeius.
- Dolobella.
- Titius, seruant to dolabella.
- two Philosophers.
- Arius
- Philostratus.
- Seleucus, secretary to Cleopatra.
- Rodon, tutor to Caesario.
- Nuntius.
- The Chorus, all Egyptians.
ACTVS PRIMVS.
Cleopatra.
YET do I liue, and yet doth breath extend
My life beyond my life? not can my graue
Shut vp my griefes, to make my end my end?
Will yet confusion haue more then I haue?
Is th'honor, wonder, glory, pompe, and all
Of Cleopatra dead, and she not dead?
Haue I out-liu'd my selfe, and seene the fall
Of all vpon me, and not ruined?
Can yet these eyes endure the ghastly looke
[Page]Of Desolations darke and ougly face,
Wont but on Fortunes fairest side to l [...]oke,
Where nought was but applause, but smiles, & grace?
Whiles on his shoulders all my rest relide
On whom the Bu [...] then of [...]'ambition lay,
My Atlas, and supporter of my pride
That did the world of all my glory sway,
Who now throwne downe, disgrac'd, confounded lies
Crusht with the weight of Shame and Infamy,
Following th'vnlucky party of mine eies,
The traines of lust and imbecilitie.
Whereby my dissolution is become
The graue of Egypt and the wracke of all;
My vnforeseeing weakenesse must int [...]ome
My Countries fame, and glorie with my fall.
Now who would thinke that I were she who late
With all the ornaments on earth inrich'd,
Enuiron'd with delights, compass'd with state,
Glittring in pomp that h [...]s and eyes bewitch'd;
Should thus distrest, cast downe from off that height
Leuell'd with low disgrac'd calamitie,
Vnder the weight of such affliction sigh,
Reduc'd vnto th'extr [...]amest misery [...]
Am I the woman whose inu [...]n [...]ue pride,
Adorn'd like Isis, sco [...]d mortality?
Is't I would haue my frailety so belide,
That fla [...]terie could perswade I was no [...] I.
Well, then I see, they but delude that praise vs,
Greatnesse is mocke, prosperitie betraye vs:
And we are but our selues, although this cloude
[Page]Of interposed smoake makes vs seeme more:
These spreading parts of pomp whereof w'are p [...]ov [...]d.
Are not our parts, but parts of others store.
Witnesse these gallant fortune following traines,
These Summer Swallowes of felicitie
Gone with the heate: of all, see what remaines,
This monument, two maides, and wretched I.
And I t'adorne their triumphs am reseru'd
A captiue, kept to honour others spoyles,
Whom Caesar labors so to haue preseru'd
And seekes to entertaine my life with wiles.
But Caesar, it is more then thou canst do,
Promise, flatter, threaten extreamitie.
Imploy thy wits and all thy force thereto,
I haue both hands, and will, and I can die.
Though thou, of both my country and my crowne,
Of powre, of meanes and all dost quite bereaue me [...]
Though thou hast wholy Egypt made thine owne [...]
Yet hast thou left me that which will deceiue thee.
That courage with my bloud and birth innated,
Admir'd of all the earth as thou art now,
Can neuer be so abiectly abated
To be thy slaue that rul'd as good as thou.
Thinke Caesar, I that liu'd and raign'd a Queene.
Doe scorne to buy my life at such a rate,
That I should vnderneath my selfe be seene,
Basely induring to suruiue my state:
That Rome should see my scepter-bearing hands
Behind me bound, and glory in my teares,
That I should passe whereas Octauia stands,
[Page]To veiw my miserie that purchas'd he [...]s.
No, I disdaine that head which wore a crowne,
Should stoope to rake vp that which others giue;
I must not be, vnlesse I be mine owne [...]
Tis sweet to die when we are forc'd to liue.
Nor had I staide behind my s [...]lfe this space,
Nor paid such intr'est for this borrow'd breath,
But that hereby I seeke to purchase grace [...]
For my distressed scede after my death [...]
It's that which doth my deerest bloud controule,
That's it alas detaines me from my to [...]be,
Whiles Nature brings to contradict my soule
The argument of mine vnhappy wombe.
You lucklesse issue of an wofull mother,
The wretched pledges of a wanton bed,
You Kings design'd, must subiects liue [...]o other;
Or else, I feare, scarce liue, when I am dead.
It is for you I temporize with Caesar,
And stay this while to mediate your safetie:
For you I faine content and sooth his pleasure,
Calamitie herein hath made me craftie.
But this is but to trie what may be done,
For come what will, this stands I must [...]ie free,
And die my selfe vncaptiu'd and vnwone.
Bloud, Children, Nature, all must pardon me.
My soule yeelds Honor vp the victorie [...]
And I must be a Queene, forget a mother,
Though mother would I be, were I no I:
And Queene would not be now, could I be other.
But what know I if th'heauens haue decreed,
[Page]And that the sinnes of Egypt haue deseru'd
The Ptolomies should faile and none succeed,
And that my weaknesse was thereto reseru'd
That I should bring confusion to my stare,
And fill the measure of iniquity,
Luxuriousnesse in me should raise the rate
Of loose and ill-dispensed liberty.
If it be so, then what neede these delaies?
Since I was made the meanes of misery:
Why should I striue but to make death my praise,
That had my life but for my infamie?
And let me write in letters of my bloud
A fit memoriall for the times to come,
To be example to such Princes good
As please themselues, and care not what become.
And Antony although the world takes note
That my defects haue onely ruin'd thee:
And my ambitious practises are thought
The motiue and the cause of all to be:
Yet God thou know'st this staine is wrongly laide
Vpon my soule, whom ill successe makes ill:
And my condemn'd misfortune hath no aide
Against prowd lucke that argues what it will.
I haue no meanes to vndeceiue their minds,
But to bring in the witnesse of my bloud.
To testifie the faith and loue that bindes
My equall shame, to fall with whom I stood.
Defects I grant I had, but this was worst,
That being the first to fall I dy'd not first.
Though I perhaps could lighten mine own side
[Page]With some excuse of my constrained case
Drawn downe with pow [...]e: but that were to deuide
My shame: to stand alone in my disgrace.
To cleere me so, would shew m [...]'affections naught
And make th'excuse more hainous then the faule.
Since if I should ou [...] errors disunite,
I should confound afflictions onely rest,
That from sterne death euen steales a sad delight
To die with friends or with the like distrest.
And since we tooke of either such firme hold
In th'ouerwhelming seas of fortune cast.
What powre should be of powre to revnfold
The a [...]mes of our affections lockt so fast.
For grapling in the ocean of our pride,
We sunke [...]adh others greatnesse both together:
And both made shipwracke of our fame beside,
Both wrought a like destruction vnto either:
And therefore I am bound to sacrifice
To death and thee, the life that doth reproue'me:
Our like distresse I feele doth simpathi [...]e,
And euen affliction makes me truly loue thee,
Which Antonie, I must confesse my fault
I neuer did sincerely vntill now,
Now I protest I do, now am I taught
In death to loue, in life that knew not how.
For whilst my glory in her greatnesse stoode,
And that I saw my state, and knew my beauty:
Saw how the world admir'd me, how they woo'd,
I then thought all men must loue me of duty:
And I loue none; for my lasciuious Court,
[Page]Fertile in euer fresh and new-choise pleasure,
Affoorded me so bountifull disport,
That I to stay on Loue had neuer leisure:
My vagabond desires no limites sound.
For lust is endlesse, pleasure hath no bound.
Thou comming from the strictnesse of thy Citty.
And this loose pomp of monarchs neuer learnest,
Inur'd to warres, in womens wiles vnwitty,
Whilst others faind, thou fell'st to loue in earnest;
Not knowing how we like them best that houer,
And make least reckning of a doting louer.
And yet thou cam'st but in my beauties waine,
When new appeering wrinckles of declining
Wrought with the hand of yeeres, seem'd to detaine
My graces light, as now but dimly shining
Euen in the confines of mine age, when I
Failing of what I was, and was but thus;
When such as we do deeme in iealousie
That men loue for themselues, and not for vs.
Then, and but thus, thou didst loue most sincerely
O Antony (who best deseru'st it better)
This Autumne of my beauty bought so dearly,
For which in more then death, I stand thy debter.
Which I will pay thee with so true a minde,
(Casting vp all these deepe accompts of mine)
That both our soules, and all the world shall find
All recknings cleer'd, betwixt my loue and thine.
But to the end I may preuent prowd Caesar,
Who doth so eagerly my life importune,
I must preuaile me of this little leasure,
Seeming to sute my minde vnto my fortune;
[Page]Thereby with more conuenience to prouide
For what my death and honour best shall fit:
An yeelding base content must wary hide
My last dissigne till I accomplish it,
That hereby yet the world shall see that I,
Although vnwise to live, had wit to die.
Exit
CHORVS.
BEhold what furies still
Torment their tortur'd brest,
Who by their doing ill,
Haue wrought the worldes vnrest.
Which when being most distrest,
Yet more to vexe their sprite,
The hidious face of sinne.
(In formes they must detest)
Standes euer in their sight.
Their conscience still within
Th'eternall larum is
That euer-barking dog that calles vpon their misse.
No meanes at all to hide
Man from himselfe can finde:
No way to start aside
Out from the hell of minde.
But in himselfe confin'd,
He still sees sinne before:
[Page]And winged-footed paine,
That swiftly comes behinde,
The which is euer-more,
The sure and certaine gaine
Impiety doth get,
And wanton loose respect, that doth it selfe forget.
And Cleopatra now,
Well sees the dangerous way
She tooke, and car'd not [...] how,
Which led her to decay.
And likewise makes vs pay
For her disordred lust,
The int'rest of our blood:
Or liue a seruile pray,
Vnder a hand vniust,
As others shall thinke good.
This hath her riot woone
And thus she hath her state her selfe and vs vndone.
Now euery mouth can tell,
What close was muttered:
How that she did not well,
To take the course she did.
For now is nothing hid,
Of what feare did restraine,
No secret closely done,
But now is vttered.
The text is made most plaine
That flatterie glos'd vpon,
The bed of sinne reueal'd,
[Page]And all the luxurie that shame would have conceal'd.
The scene is broken downe,
And all vncou'red lyes,
The purple actors knowne
Scarce men, whom men despise.
The complots of the wise,
Proue imperfections smoake:
And all what wonder gaue
To pleasure-gazing eyes,
Lyes scattred, dasht, all broke.
Thus much beguiled haue
Poore vnconsiderate wights,
These momentarie pleasures [...] fugitiue delights.
ACTVS SECVNDVS.
Caesar. Proculeius.
KIngdoms I see we winne, we conquere Climates,
Yet cannot vanquish hearts, nor force obedience,
Affections kept in close-concealed limits.
Stand farre without the reach of sworde or violence,
Who forc'd do pay vs dutie, pay not loue:
Free is the heart, the temple of the minde,
The Sanctuarie sacred from aboue,
Where nature keeps the keyes that loose and bind.
No mortall hand force open can that doore,
So close shut vp, and lockt to all mankind:
I see mens bodies onely ours, no more,
The rest, anothers right, that rules the minde.
Behold, my forces vanquisht haue this Land,
Subdu'd that strong Competitor of mine:
All Egypt yeelds to my all-conqu'ring hand,
And all their treasure and themselues resigne,
Onely this Queene, that hath lost all this all.
To whom is nothing left except a minde:
Cannot into a thought of yeelding fall,
To be dispos'd as Chance hath her assign'd.
But Proculei, what hope doth she now giue,
Will shee be brought to condiscend to liue?
Proc.
My Lord, what time being sent from you to try
To win her forth al [...]e (if that I might)
From out the Monument, where wo [...]ully
She liues inclos'd in most afflicted plight:
No way I found, no meanes how to surprize her,
But through a gra [...]e at th'entry of the place
Standing to treat, I labour'd to aduise her,
To come to Caesar, and to sue for grace.
She said she crau'd not life, but leaue to die,
Yet for her children, pray'd they might inherite,
That Caesar would vouchsafe (in clemencie)
To pittie them, though she deseru'd no merite.
So leauing her for then; and since of late,
With Gallus sent to trie an other time,
The whilst he entertaines her at the grate,
I found the meanes vp to the Tombe to clime.
Where, in descending in the closest wise,
And silent manner as I could contriue:
Her woman me descri'd, and out she cries,
Poore Cleopatra, thou art tane aliue.
With that the Queene [...]aught from her side her knife,
[Page]And euen in act to stab her martred brest,
I stept with speed, and held, and sau'd her life,
And forth her trembling hand the blade did wrest.
Ah Cleopatra, why shouldst thou, (said I)
Both iniurie thy selfe and Caesar so?
Barre him the honour of his victorie,
Who euer deales most mildly with his foe?
Liue, and relie on him, whose mercy will
To thy submission alwayes ready be.
With that (as all amaz'd) she held her still,
Twixt maiestie confuz'd and miserie.
Her proud grieu'd eyes, held sorrow and disdaine,
State and distresse warring within her soule:
Dying ambition disposlest her raigne,
So base affliction seemed to controule.
Like as a burning Lampe, whose liquor spent
With intermitted flames, when dead you deeme it,
Sends forth a dying slash, as discontent,
That so the matter failes that should redeeme it:
So she (in spight) to see her low-brought state,
When all her hopes were now consum'd to nought)
Scornes yet to make an abiect league with Fate,
Or once descend into a seruile thought.
Th'imperious tongue vnused to beseech,
Authoritie confounds with prayers so
That words of powre conioyn'd with humble speech,
Shew'd she would liue, yet scorn'd to pray her foe.
Ah, what hath Caesar heere to do, said she,
In confines of the dead in darknesse lying?
Will he not grant our sepulchres be free,
But violate the priuiledge of dying?
[Page]What, must he stretch foorth his ambitious hand
Into the right of Death, and force vs heere?
Hath Miserie no couert where to stand
Free from the storme of Pride, is't safe no where?
Cannot my land, my golde, my crowne suffice,
And all what I held deere, to him made common,
But that he must in this sort tyrannize,
Th'afflicted body of an wofull woman?
Tell him, my frailetie, and the gods haue giuen
Sufficient glory, could he be content:
And let him now with his desires make euen,
And leaue me to this horror, to lament.
Now he hath taken all away from mee,
What must he take me from my selfe by force?
Ah, let him yet (in mercie) leaue me free
The kingdome of this poore distressed corse.
No other crownel seeke, no other good.
Yet wish that Caesar would vouchsafe this grace,
To fauour the poore of-spring of my bloud.
Confused issue, yet of Romane race.
If bloud and name be linckes of loue in Princes,
Not spurres of hate; my poore Caesario may
Finde fauour notwithstanding mine offences,
And Caesars bloud, may Caesars raging stay.
But if that with the torrent of my fall,
All must be rapt with furious violence,
And no respect, nor no regard at all,
Can aught with nature or with bloud dispence:
Then be it so, if needs it must be so.
There staies and shrinckes in horror of her state:
When I beganne to mittigate her woe,
[Page]And thy great mercies vnto her relate;
Wishing her not despaire, but rather come
And sue for grace [...] and shake off idle feares:
No doubt she should obtaine as gentle doome
As she desir'd, both for her selfe and hers.
And so with much adoe, (well pacifide
Seeming to be) she shew'd content to liue,
Saying she was resolu'd thy doome t'abide,
And to accept what fauour thou would'st giue,
And here withall crau'd also that shee might
Performe her last [...]tes to her lost belou'd.
To sacrifice to him that wrought her plight:
And that she might not be by force remou'd.
I granting from thy part this her request,
L [...] her for then, seeming in better rest.
Caes.
But dost thou thinke she will remaine so still?
Pro.
I thinke, and do assure my selfe she will.
Caes.
Ah, priuate men sound not the harts of Princes,
Whose purposes beare contrarie pretences.
Pro.
Why tis her safetie to come yeeld to thee.
Caes.
But tis more honour for her to die free.
Pro.
She may thereby procure her childrens good.
Caes.
Princes are not ally'd vnto their blood.
Pro.
Can Princes powre dispence with nature than?
Caes.
To be a Prince, is more then be a man.
Pro.
There's none but haue in time perswaded beene,
Caes,
And so might she too, were she not a Queene.
Pro.
Diuers respects will force her be reclaim'd.
Caes.
Princes (like Lions) neuer will be [...]am'd
A priuate man may yeeld and care not how,
But greater hearts will breake before they bow.
[Page]And sure I thinke sh'will neuer condiscend,
To liue to grace our spoiles with her disgrace:
But yet let still a wary troupe attend,
To guard her person, and to watch the place.
And looke that none with her come to confer:
Shortly my selfe will go to visite her.
CHORVS.
OPINION, how doost thou molest
Th'affected minde of restlesse man?
Who following thee neuer can,
Nor euer shall attaine to rest,
For getting what thou saist is best,
Yet loe, that best he findes farre wide
Of what thou promisedst before:
For in the same he lookt for more,
Which proues but small when once tis tride
Then something else thou find'st beside.
To draw him still from thought to thought,
When in the end all prooues but nought.
Farther from rest he findes him than,
Then at the first when he began.
O malecontent seducing guest,
Contriuer of our greatest woes:
Which borne of winde, and fed with showes.
Doost nurse thy selfe in thine vnrest.
Iudging vngotten things the best,
Or what thou in conceit desig'nst,
[Page]And all things in the world dost deeme,
Not as they are, but as they seeme:
Which shews, their state thou ill design'st,
And liu'st to come, in present pin'st.
For what thou hast, thou still dost lacke:
O mindes tormentor, bodies wracke,
Vaine promiser of that sweete rest,
Which neuer any yet possest.
If we vnto ambition tend,
Then doost thou drawe our weakenesse on,
With vaine imagination
Of that which neuer hath an end.
Or if that lust we apprehend,
How doth that pleasant plague infest?
O what strange formes of luxurie,
Thou strait dost cast t'intice vs by?
And tell'st vs that is euer best,
Which we haue neuer yet possest.
And that more pleasure rests beside,
In something that we haue not tride.
And when the sanse likewise is had,
Then all is one, and all is bad.
This Antony can say is true,
And Cleopatra knowes tis so,
By th'experience of their woe.
She can say, she neuer knew
But that lust found pleasures new,
And was neuer satisfide:
He can say by proofe of toile,
[Page]Ambition is a Vulture vile,
That feeds vpon the hart of pride:
And findes no rest when all is tride.
For worlds cannot confine the one,
Th'other, lists and bounds hath none.
And both subuert the minde, the state,
Procure destruction, enuie, hate.
And now when all this is prou'd vaine,
Yet Opinion leaues not heere,
But sticks to Cleopatra neere,
Perswading now, how she shall gaine
Honour by death [...] and fame attaine.
And what a shame it were to liue,
Her kingdome lost, her Louer dead:
And so with this perswasion led,
Dispaire doth such a courage giue,
That nought else can her minde relieue,
Nor yet diuert her from that thought:
To this conclusion all is brought:
This is that rest this vaine world lends,
To end in death that all things ends.
ACTVS TERTIVS.
Philostratus. Arius.
HOw deepely Arius am I bound to thee,
That sau'dst frō death this wretched life of mine:
Obtaining Caesars gentle grace for mee,
When I of all helpes else dispaird but thine?
[Page]Although I see in such a woful state.
Life is not that which should be much desir'd
Sith all our glories come to end their date,
Our Countries honour and our own expir'd
Now that the hand of wrath hath ouer-gone vs.
We liue but as i [...] th'armes of our dead mother,
With bloud vnder our feet, ruine vpon vs,
And in a Land most wretched of all other,
When yet we reckon life our deerest good.
And so we liue, we care not how we liue:
So deepe we feele impressed in our blood,
That touch which Nature with our breath did giue.
And yet what blasts of words hath Learning found,
To blow against the feare of death and dying?
What comforts vnsicke eloquence can sound,
And yet all failes vs in the point of trying.
For whilst we reason with the breath of safety,
Without the compasse of destruction liuing,
What precepts shew we then what courage lofty
In taxing others feares in councell giuing?
When all this ayre of sweet-contriued wordes
Proues but weake armour to defend the hart.
For when this life, pale Feare and Terrour boords,
Where are our precepts then, where is our arte?
O who is he that from himselfe can tourne,
That beares about the body of a man?
Who doth not toile and labour to adiorne
The day of death, by any meanes he can?
All this I speake to th'end my selfe t'excuse,
For my base begging of a seruile breath,
Wherein I grant my selfe much to abuse,
[Page]So shamefully to seeke t'auoide my death.
Arius.
Philostratus, that selfe s [...]me care to liue,
Possesseth all alike, and grieue not then,
Nature doth vs no more then others giue:
Though we speake more then men, we are but men.
And yet (in truth) these miseries to see,
Wherein we stand in most extreame distresse:
Might to our selues sufficient motiues be
To loath this life, and weigh our death the lesse:
For neuer any age hath better taught,
What feeble footing pride and greatnesse hath.
How' improuident prosperity is caught.
And cleane confounded in the day of wrath.
See how dismaid Confusion keepes those streetes.
That nought but mirth and musique late resounded,
How nothing with our eic but horror meetes,
Our state, our wealth, our pride and all confounded.
Yet what weake sight did not discerne from far
This black-arising tempest, all confounding?
Who did not see we should be what we are,
When pride and ryot grew to such abounding.
When dissolute impietie possest
Th'vnrespectiue mindes of prince and people:
When insolent Securitie found rest
In wanton thoughts, which lust and ease made feeble.
Then when vnwary Peace with fat-fed pleasure:
New-fresh muented ryots still detected.
Purchac'd with all the Ptolomies rich treasure,
Our lawes, our gods, our mysteryes neglected.
Who saw not how this confluence of vice,
This inundation of disorders, must
[Page]At length of force pay backe the bloodie price
Of sad destruction, (a reward for lust)
O thou and I haue heard, and read, and knowne
Of like proud states, as wofully incombred.
And fram'd by them, examples for our owne:
Which now among examples must be numbred.
For this decre a law from high is giuen,
An ancient Canon, of eternall date,
In Consistory of the starres of heauen,
Entred the Booke of vnauoyded Fate:
That no state can in heigh of happinesse.
In the'exaltation of their glory stand:
But thither once arriu'd declining lesse,
Ruine themselues, or fall by others hand.
Thus doth the euer-changing course of things
Runne a perpetuall cirkle, euer turning:
And that same day that hiest glory brings,
Brings vs vnto the poynt of back-returning:
For sencelesse sensualty, doth euer
Accompany felicity and greatnesse.
A fatall witch, whose charmes do leaue vs neuer
Till we leaue all in sorrow for our sweetnesse;
When yet our selues must be the cause we fall,
Although the same be first decreed on hie:
Our errors still must beare the blame of all,
This must it be: earth, aske not heauen why.
Yet mighty men with wary iealous hand,
Striue to cut off all obstacles of feare:
All whatsoeuer seems but to withstand
Their least conceit of quiet held so [...]eere:
And so intrench themselues with blood with crimes,
[Page]With all iniustice as their feares dispose:
Yet for all this we see, how oftentimes
The meanes they worke to keepe are meanes to lose,
And sure I cannot see, how this can stand
With great Augustus glory and his honor,
T'extinguish the succession of our land,
For her offence that pulld the warres vpon her,
Phi.
Must all her yssue be confounded now?
Ari.
Yea all that from the roots of kings did grow,
Phi.
And sweet Caesario sprong of Caesars blood?
Ari.
Plurality of Caesars are not good.
Phi.
Alas, what hurt procures his feeble arme?
Ari.
Not for it doth, but that it may do harme.
Phi.
Then when it offers hurt, represse the same.
Ari.
Tis best to quench a sparke before it flame.
Phi.
Tis inhumane, an innocent to kill.
Ari.
Such innocents seldome remaine so still.
And sure his death may best procure our peace,
Competitors the subiect deerely buies:
And so that our affliction may surcease,
Let great men be the peoples sacrifice.
But see where Caesar comes himselfe to try
And worke the minde of our distressed Queene
With some deluding hope: whereby
She might be drawn to haue her fortune seene.
But yet I trust, Rome will not see that face
(That queld her champions) blush in base disgrace,
SCENA SECVNDA.
Caesar, Cleopatra, Selucus, Dolabella.
Caesar.
VVHat Cleopatra, doost thou doubt so much
Of Caesars mercy, that thou hid'st thy face?
Or dost thou thinke, thy offences can be such,
That they surmount the measure of our grace?
Cle.
O Caesar, not for that I flie thy sight
My soule this sad retire of sorrow chose:
But that m'oppressed thoughts abhorring light
Like best in darkenesse, my disgrace [...]'inclose.
And heere to these close limites of despaire,
This solitary horror where I bide:
Caesar, I thought no Roman should repaire,
More after him, who here oppressed dyde.
Yet now, here at thy conquering feete I lie,
Poore captiue soule, that neuer thought to bow:
Whose happy foote of rule and Maiestie
Stood late on that same ground thou standest now.
Caes.
Rise Queene, none but thy selfe is cause of all,
And yet, would all were but thine owne alone:
That others ruine had not with thy fall
Brought Rome her sorrowes, to my triumphes mone.
For breaking off the league of loue and blood,
Thou mak'st my winning ioy againe vnpleasing:
Sith th'eye of griefs looke not into our good,
But thor'w the horror of our owne blood shedding.
And all, we must attribute vnto thee.
Cle.
[Page]To me? Caesar, what should a woman doe
Opprest with greatnes? what was it for me
To contradict my Lord, being bent thereto?
I was by loue, by feare by weakenesse, made
An instrument to such disseignes as these.
For when the Lord of all the Orient bade,
Who but obey'd? who was not glad to please?
And how could I withdraw my succouring hand
From him that had my heart, and what was mine?
The int'rest of my faith in streightest band,
My loue to his most firmely did combine.
Caes.
Loue? ah no no, it was th'innated hatred
That thou and thine hast euer borne our people:
That made thee seeke all meanes to haue vs scattred,
To disunite our strength, and make vs feeble.
And therefore did that breast nurse our dissention,
With hope t'exalt thy selfe, t'augment thy state:
To pray vpon the wracke of our contention,
And (with the rest our foes,) to ioy thereat.
Cleo:
O Caesar, see how easie tis t'accuse
Whom Fortune hath made faulty by their fall,
The wretched conquered may not resuse
The titles of reproch hee's charg'd withall.
The conquering cause hath right, wherein thou art,
The vanquisht still is iudgde the worser part.
Which part is mine, because I lost my part.
No lesser then the portion of a Crowne.
Enough for me, alas was needed art
To gaine by others, but to keepe mine owne?
But heere let weaker powers note what it is,
To neighbour great Compe [...]itors too neere,
[Page]If wee take part, we oft do perish thus,
If neutrall bide, both parties we must feare.
Alas, what shall the forst partakers doe,
When following none, yet must they perish too?
But Caesar, sith thy right and cause is such,
Be not a heauy weight vpon calamitie:
Depresse not the afflicted ouer-much,
The chie [...]est glorie is the Victors lenitie.
Th'inheritance of mercie from him take,
Of whom thou hast thy fortune [...] and thy name:
Great Caesar me a Queene at first did make,
And let not Caesar now confound the same,
Reade here these lines which still I keepe with me,
The witnesse of his loue and fauours euer:
And God forbid this should be said of thee,
That Caesar wrong'd the fauoured of Caesar.
For looke what I haue beene to Antony
Thinke thou the same I might haue beene to thee.
And here I do present thee with the note
Of all the treasure, all the iewels rate
That Egypt hath in many ages got;
And looke what Cleopatra hath, is there.
Seleu.
Nay there's not all set down within that roule,
I know some things she hath reseru'd apart.
Cle.
What vile vngrateful wretch, dar'st tho [...] cōtroule
Thy Queene and soueraigne, cai [...]i [...]e as thou art.
Caes.
Holde, holde; a poore reuenge cā worke so feeble hands
Cle.
Ah Caesar, what a great indignitie
Is this, that here my vassall subiect stands
T' accuse me to my Lord of trecher [...]e?
If I reseru'd some certaine womens toyes,
[Page]Alas it was not for my selfe (God knowes,)
Poore miserable soule, that little ioyes
In trifling ornaments in outward showes.
But what I kept, I kept to make my way
Vnto thy Liuia and Octauius grace,
That thereby in compassion mooued, they
Might mediate thy fauour in my case.
Caes.
Well Cleopatra, feare not, thou shalt finde
What fauour thou desir'st, or canst expect:
For Caesar neuer yet was found but kinde
To such as yeeld, and can themselues subiect.
And therefore giue thou comfort to thy minde,
Relieue thy soule thus ouer-charg'd with care,
How well I will intreate thee thou shalt find,
So soone as some affaires dispatched are.
Till when farewel. Cl. Thanks thrise renowned Caesar,
Poore Cleopatra rests thine owne for [...]uer.
Dol.
No maruell Caesar though our greatest spirits,
Haue to the powre of such act arming beautie
Been brought to yeeld the honor of their merits:
Forgetting all respect of other dutie.
Then whilst the glory of her youth remain'd
The wondring object to each wanton eye':
Before her full of sweet (with sorrow wain'd,)
Came to the period of this miserie.
If still, euen in the midst of death and horror
Such beautie shines, thorow clouds of age & sorrow,
If euen those sweet decaies seeme to pleade for her,
Which from affliction mouing graces borrow:
If in calamitie she could thus moue,
What could she do adorn'd with youth and loue?
[Page]What could she do then, when as spreading wide
The pomp of beauty, in her glory dight?
When arm'd with wonder, she could vse beside,
Th'ingines of her loue, Hope and Delight?
Daughter of Meruaile beauty O see how
Thou canst disgracing sorrowes sweetly grace.
What power thou show'st in a distressed brow,
That mak'st affliction faire, giu'st teares their grace.
What can vntressed locks, can torne rent haire,
A weeping eye, a waiilng face be faire?
I see then, artlesse feature can content,
And that true beauty needs no ornament,
Caes.
What in passion a Dolabella? what take heed:
Let others fresh examples be thy warning:
What mischiefs these, so idle humors breed,
Whilst error keepes vs from a true discerning.
Indeed I saw she labour'd to impart
Her sweetest graces in her saddest cheere:
Presuming on the face that knew the art
To moue with what aspect so eu'r it were.
But all in vaine, she takes her ayme amisse.
The ground and marke her leuel much deceiues:
Time now hath altred all, for neither is
She as she was, nor we as she conceiues.
And therefore now leaue he [...] vnto her sadnesse
Folly in youth is sinne, in age, tis madnesse.
And for my part, I seeke but [...]'entertaine
In her some feeding hope to draw her forth,
The greatest Trophey that my trauaile [...] gaine,
[...]to bring home a prizall of such worth.
A [...] now, sith that she seemes so well content.
[Page]To be dispos'd by vs, without more stay
She with her children shall to Rome be fent,
Whilst I by Syria thither take my way.
CHORVS.
O Fearefull frowning Nemesis,
Daughter of Iustice, most seuere,
That art the worlds great arbitresse,
And Queene of causes raigning heere:
Whose swift-sure hand is euer neere
Eternall iustice, righting wrong:
Who neuer yet deferrest long
The prowds decay, the weaks redresse:
But through thy power euery where,
Dost raze the great, and raise the lesse.
The lesse made great dost ruine too,
To shew the earth what heauen can do.
Thou from darke-clos'd eternitie,
From thy blacke cloudy hidden seate,
The worlds disorders dost desery:
Which when they swell so prowdly great,
Reuersing th'order nature set,
Thou giu'st thy all confounding doome,
Which none can know before it come.
Th'ineuitable destinie,
Which neither wit nor strength can let,
Fast chain'd vnto necessitie,
In mortall things doth order so,
Th'alternate course of weale or wo.
O how the powres of heauen doe play
With trauailed mortalitie:
And doth their weakenesse still betray,
In their best prosperitie?
When being lifted vp so hie,
They looke beyond themselues so farre,
That to themselues they take no care;
Whilst swift confusion downe doth lay,
Their late prowd mounting vanitie:
Bringing their glory to decay,
And with the ruine of their fall,
Extinguish people, state and all.
But is it Iustice that all wee
The innocent poore multitude,
For great mens faults should punisht be,
And to destruction thus pursude?
O why should th'heauens vs include,
Within the compasse of their fall,
Who of themselues procured all?
Or do the gods in close decree,
Occasion take how to extrude
Man from the earth with crueltie?
Ah no, the gods are euer iust,
Our faults excuse their rigor must.
This is the period Fate set downe,
To Egypts fat prosperitie:
Which now vnto her greatest growne,
Must perish thus, by course must die,
And some must be the causers why
[Page]This reuolution must be wrought:
As borne to bring their state to nought:
To change the people and the crowne,
And purge the worlds iniquitie:
Which vice so farre hath ouer growne.
As we, so they that treate vs thus,
Must one day perish like to vs.
ACTVS QVARTVS.
Seleucus. Rodon.
Sel.
FRiend Rodon neuer in a better bowre,
Could I haue met thee then eu'n now I do,
Hauing affliction in the greatest powre
Vpon my soule, and none to tell it too.
For tis some ease our sorrowes to reueale,
If they to whom we shall impart our woes
Seeme but to feele a part of what we feele:
And meete vs with a sigh but at a cloze.
Rod.
And neuer (friend Seleuchus) found'st thou one
That better could beare such a part with thee:
Who by his own, knows others cares to mone,
And can, in like accord of griefe, agree.
And therefore tell th'oppression of thy hart,
Tell to an eare prepar'd and tun'd to care:
And I will likewise vnto thee impart
As sad a tale as what thou shalt declare.
So shall we both our mournefull plaints combine,
[Page]Ile waile thy state, and thou shalt pittie mine.
Cel.
Wel then, thou know'st how I haue liu'd in grace
With Cleopatra, and esteem'd in Court
As one of Councell, and of chiefest place,
And euer held my credite in that sort.
Till now in this confusion of our state,
When thinking to haue vs'd a meane to climbe,
And fled the wretched, flowne vnto the great,
(Following the fortune of the present time,)
Am come to be cast downe and ruin'd cleane;
And in the course of mine own plot vndone.
For hauing all the secrets of the Queene
Reueald to Caesar, to haue fauor wonne.
My trechery is quited with disgrace,
My falshood loath'd, and not without great reason.
Though good for him, yet Princes in this case
Do hate the Traitor, though they loue the treason.
For how could he imagine I would be
Faithfull to him, being false vnto mine owne?
And false to such a bounteous Queene as she.
That had me rais'd and made mine honor knowne.
He saw twas not for zeale to him I bare,
But for base feare, or mine owne state to settle.
Weakenesse is false, and faith in Cowards rare,
Feare findes out shifts, timiditie is subtle.
And therefore scorn'd of him, scorn'd of mine own.
Hatefull to all that looke into my state:
Despis'd Seleucus now is onely grown
The marke of infamy, that is pointed at.
Rod.
Tis much thou saist, and O too much to feele,
And I do grieue and do lament thy fall:
[Page]But yet all this which thou doest heere reueale,
Compar'd with mine, will make thine seeme but small.
Although my fault be in the selfe-same kind,
Yet in degree far greater, far more hatefull;
Mine sprong of mischiefe, thine from feeble mind,
I staind with blood, thou onely but vngratefull.
For vnto me did Cleopatra giu [...]
The best and deerest treasure of her blood,
Louely Caesario, whom she would haue liue
Free from the dangers wherein Egypt stoode.
And vnto me with him this charge she gaue,
Here Rodon, take, conuey from out this coast,
This precious Gem, the chiefest that I haue,
The iewell of any soule I value most.
Guide him to India, leade him farre from hence,
Safeguard him where secure he may remaine,
Till better fortune call him backe from thence,
And Egypts peace be reconcil'd againe.
For this is he that may our hopes bring backe;
(The rising Sunne of our declining state:)
These be the hands that may restore our wracke,
And raise the broken ruines made of late.
He may giue limits to the boundlesse pride
Of fierce Octauius, and abate his might:
Great Iulius of [...] spring, he may come to guide
The Empire of the world, [...]s his by right.
O how he seemes the modell of his Syre?
O how I gaze my Caesar in his face?
Such was his gate, so did his lookes aspire;
Such was his threatning brow, such was his grace.
High shouldred, and his forehead euen as hie.
[Page]And O, (if he had not beene borne so late.)
He might haue rul'd the worlds great Monarchy.
And now haue beene the Champion of our state.
Then vnto him, O my deere Sonne (she saies,)
Sonne of my youth, flie hence, O flie, be gone,
Reserue thy selfe, ordain'd for better dayes,
For much thou hast to ground thy hopes vpon.
Leaue me (thy wofull Mother) to endure
The fury of this tempest heere alone,
Who cares not for her selfe, so thou be sure,
Thou mayst reuenge, when others can but mone:
Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guide
Thee and thy wayes, thou shalt not neede to feare.
Rodon (My faithfull seruant) will prouide
What shal be best for the, take thou no care.
And O good Rodon, looke well to his youth,
The wayes are long, and dangers eu'ry where.
I vrge it not that I doe doubt thy truth,
Mothers will cast the worst, and alwayes feare.
The absent danger greater still appeares,
Lesse feares he, who is neere the thing he feares.
And O, I know nor what presaging thought
My sprite suggests of lucklesse bad euent:
But yet it may be tis but Loue doth doate,
Or ydle shadowes with my feares present,
But yet the memory of mine owne fate
Makes me feare his. And yet why should I feare
His fortune may recouer better state,
And he may come in pomp to gouerne here.
But yet I doubt the Genius of our race
By some malignant spirit comes ouerthrowne:
[Page]Our bloud must be extinct, in my disgrace,
Egypt must haue no more Kings of their owne,
Then let him stay, and let vs fall together,
Sith it is fore-decreed that we must all?
Yet who knowes what may come? let him go thither.
What Merchaunt i [...] one vessell ventures all?
Let vs d [...]uide our starres. Go, go my sonne,
Let not the fate of Egypt finde thee here:
Try if so be thy destinie can shunne
The common wracke of vs by being there.
But who is he found [...] euer yet defence
Against the heauens, or hid him any where?
Then what neede I to send thee so farre hence
To seeke thy death that mayst as well die here?
And here die with thy mother, die in rest,
Not trauelling to what will come to thee.
Why should we leaue our bloud vnto the East,
When Egypt may a Tombe sufficient be?
O my diuided soule, what shall I do?
Whereon shall now my resolution rest?
What were I best resolue to yeeld vnto,
When both are bad, how shall I know the best?
Stay, I may hap so worke with Caesar now,
That he may yeelde him to restore thy right.
Goe: Caesar neuer will consent that thou
So neere in bloud, shalt be so great in might.
Then take him Rodon, go my sonne, farewell.
But stay there's something else that I would say:
Yet nothing now, but O god speede thee well,
Lest saving more, that more may make thee stay.
Yet let me speake: It may be tis the last,
[Page]That euer I shall speake to thee my sonne,
Do Mothers vse to part in such post hast?
What, must I end when I haue scarce begunne?
Ah no (deere heart) tis no such slender twine
Where with the knot is tide twixt thee and me,
That bloud within thy veins came out of mine,
Parting from thee I part from part of me:
And therefore I must speake. Yet what? O sonne.
Here more she would, when more she could not say,
Sorrow rebounding backe whence it begunne,
Filld vp the passage, and quite stopt the way:
When sweet Caesario with a princely spirit,
(Though comfortlesse himselfe) did comfort giue,
With mildest wordes perswading her to beare it.
And as for him, she should not neede to grieue.
And I (with protesta [...]ions of my part.)
Swore by that faith, (which sworne I did deceiue)
That I would vse all care, all wit and art
To see him safe; And so we tooke our leaue.
Scarce had we trauail'd to our iurnie [...] end,
When Caesar hauing knowledge of our way,
His Agents after vs with speede doth send
To labour me Caesario to betray.
Who with rewards and promises so large,
Assail'd me then, that I grew soone content
And backe to Rhodes did reconuay my charge,
Pretending that Octauius for him sent,
To make him King of Egypt presently.
And thither come, seeing himselfe betray'd.
And in the hands of death through trechery,
Wayling his state, thus to himselfe he said.
[Page]Lo here brought backe by subtile traine to death
Betraide by Tutors faith, or traitors rather
My fault my bloud, and mine offence my birth,
For being sonne of such a mighty Father.
From India, (whither sent by mothers care,
To be reseru'd from Egipts common wracke,)
To Rhodes, (so long the armes of tyrants are,)
I am by Caesars subtile reach brought backe:
Heere to be made th'oblation for his feares,
Who doubts the poore reuenge these hāds may do him
Respecting neither bloud, nor youth, nor yeeres,
Or how small safety can my death be to him.
And is this all the good of being borne great?
Then wretched greatnesse proud rich miserie,
Pompous distresse, glittering calamity.
Is it for this th'ambitious Fathers sweat,
To purchase bloud and death for them and theirs?
I [...] this the issue that their glories get,
So leaue a sure dest [...]uction to their heires?
O how much better had it beene for me,
From low descent, deriu'd of humble birth,
T'haue eat the sweete sowre bread of pouerty,
And drunke of Nylus streams in Nilus earth.
Vnder the cou'ring of some quiet Cottage,
Free from the wrath of heauen, secure in minde,
Vntoucht when sad euents of princes dottage
Confounds what euer mighty it doth finde.
Out of the way of greatnesse, whose condition
Is to haue all made cleere, and all thing plaine
Betweene them and the marke of their ambition,
That nothing let, the full sight of their raigne
[Page]Where nothing stands, that stands not in submission;
Where greatnesse must all in it selfe containe.
Kings will be alone, Competitors must downe,
Neere death he stands, that stands to neare a Crowne.
Such is my case, for Caesar will haue all.
My bloud must feale th'assurance of his state:
Yet ah weake state that bloud assure him shall,
Whose wrong full shedding, gods and men do hate.
Iniustice neuer scapes vnpunisht still,
Though men reuenge not, yet the heauens will.
And thou Augustus that with bloudy hand,
Cut'st off succession from anothers race,
Maist find the heauens thy vowes so to withstand,
That others may depriue thine in like case
When thou mayst see thy prowde contentious bed
Yeelding thee none of thine that may inherite:
Subuert thy bloud, place others in their sted,
To pay this thy iniustice her due merite.
If it be true (as who can that denie
Which sacred Priests of Memphis doe fore-say)
Some of the of-spring yet of Antony.
Shall all the rule of this whole Empire sway;
And then Augustus, what is it thou gainest
By poore Antillus bloud, or this of mine?
Nothing but this thy victory thou, stainest,
And pull'st the wrath of heauen on thee and thine.
In vaine doth man contend against the starr's,
For that he seekes to make, his wisdome marr's.
Yet in the mean-time we whom Fates reserue,
The bloudy sacrifices of ambition
We feele the smart what euer they deserue,
[Page]And we indure the present times condition.
The iustice of the heauens renenging thus,
Doth onely satisfie it selfe, not vs.
Yet tis a pleasing comfort that doth ease
Affliction in so great extremity.
To thinke their dike destruction shall appease
Our ghosts, who did procure our misery.
But dead we are, vncertaine what shall bee,
And liuing, we are sure to feele the wrong:
Our certaine ruine we our selues do see.
They ioy the while, and we know not how long.
But yet Caesarie, thou must die content,
For men will mone, and God reuenge th'innocent.
Thus he complain'd, and thus thou hea'rst my shame,
S [...]l.
But how hath Caesar now rewarded thee?
Rod.
As he hath thee. And I expect the same,
As fell to Theodor to fall to me:
For he (one of my coate) hauing betraid
The yong Antillus sonne of Anthony,
And at his death from off his necke conuaid
A iewell: which being ask [...], he did denie:
Caesar occasion tooke to hang him strait.
Such instruments with Princes liue not long.
Although they need such actors of deceit,
Yet still our sight seemes to vpbraid their wrong;
And therefore we must needes this daunger runne,
And in the net of our owne guile be caught:
We must not liue to brag what we haue done.
For what is done, must not appeare their fault.
But here comes Cleopatrae, Wofull Queene,
And our shame wil not that we should be seene.
Exeunt.
Cleopatra.
[Page]WHat hath my face yet power to win a Louer?
Can this torne remnant serue to grace me so,
That it can Caesars secret plots discouer
What he intends with me and mine to do?
Why then poore Beautie thou hast done thy last,
And best good seruice thou could'st do vnto me.
For now the time of death reueal'd thou hast,
Which in my life didst serue but to vndoe me.
Heere Dolabella far forsooth in loue,
Writes, how that Caesar meanes forthwith, to send
Both me and mine, th'ayre of Rome to proue:
There his Triumphant Chariot to attend.
I thanke the man, both for his loue and letter;
The one comes fit to warne me thus before,
But for th'other, I must die his debter,
For Cleopatra now can loue no more.
But hauing leaue, I must go take my leaue
And last farewell of my dead Anthonie:
Whose deerly honour'd tombe must here receiue
This sacrifice, the last before I die
O sacred euer-memorable stone,
That hast without my teares, within my flame,
Receiue th'oblation of the wofull'st mone
That euer yet from sad affliction came.
And you deare reliques of my Lord and Loue,
(The sweetest parcels of the faithfull'st liuer,)
O let no impious hand dare to remoue
You out from hence, but rest you here for euer.
[Page]Let Egypt now giue peace vnto you dead,
That liuing gaue you trouble and turmoile:
Sleepe quiet in this euer-lasting bed,
In forraine land preferr'd before your soile,
And O, if that the sp'rits of men remaine
After their bodies; and do neuer die,
Then heare thy ghost, thy captiue spouse complaine,
And be attentiue to her miserie.
But if that laboursome mortallitie
Found this sweete error, onely to confine
The curious search of idle vanitie,
That would the deapth of darknesse vndermine:
Or rather to giue rest vnto the thought
Of wretched man, with th'after-comming ioy
Of those conceiued fields whereon we dote,
To pacifie the present worlds annoy:
Then do I speake but onely to the ayre:
But tis not so, my Anthonie doth heare:
His euer-liuing ghost attends my prayer,
And I do know his houering sprite is neere.
And I will speake, and pray, and mourne to thee,
O pure immortall loue that daign'st to heare:
I feele thou answer'st my credulitie
With touch of comfort, finding none elsewhere.
Thou know'st these hands intomb'd thee here of late,
Free and vnforc'd, which now must seruile be,
Reseru'd for bands to grace proud Caesars state,
Who seekes in me to triumph ouer thee.
O if in life we could not seuerd be,
Shall death diuide our bodies now a sunder?
Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italie,
[Page]Be kept the Monuments of Fortunes wonder?
If any powres be there whereas thou art,
(Sith our owne cuntry gods betray our case,)
O worke they may their gracious helpe impart,
To saue thy wofull wife from such disgrace.
Do not permit she shoutd in triumph shew
The blush of her reproach, ioyn'd with thy shame
But (rather) let that hate full tyrant know,
That thou and I had powre t'auoyde the same.
But what do I spend breath and ydle winde.
In vaine inuoking a conceiued ayde?
Why do I not my selfe occasion finde
To breake the bounds wherein my selfe am staide?
Words are for them that can complaine and liue,
Whose melting hearts composd of baser frame,
Can to their sorrows, time and leasure giue,
But Cleopatra may not do the same.
No Antony, thy loue requireth more:
A lingring death, with thee deserues no merite,
I must my selfe force open wide a dore
To let out life, and so vnhouse my spirit.
These hands must breake the prison of my soule
To come to thee, there to enioy like state,
As doth the long-pent solitary Foule.
That hath escapt her cage, and found her mate,
This sacrifice to sacrifize my life,
Is that true incense that dooth best beseeme:
These rites may serue a life-desiring wife,
Who doing them, t'haue done enough doth deeme.
My-hart-bloud should the purple flowers haue beene,
Which heere vpon thy Tombe to thee are offred.
[Page]No smoake but dying breath should here bin seene,
And this it had bin too, had I bin suffred.
But what haue I saue these bare silly hands?
And these weake fingers are not iron-poynted:
They cannot pierce with them which stands
And I of all meanes else am disapointed.
But yet I must some way endeuour how
To come vnto thee, whatsoere I do.
O Death, art thou sohard to come by now,
That we must pray, iutreate, and seeke thee too?
But I will finde thee wheresoere thou lie.
For who can stay a minde resolu'd to die?
And now I go to worke th'effect indeed,
Ile neuer send more words or sights to thee:
Ile bring my soule my selfe, and that with speede,
My selfe will bring my soule to Antony.
Come go my maides, my fortunes sole attenders,
That minister to misery and sorrow:
Your Mistris you vnto your freedome renders.
And Will discharge your charge yet ere to morrow.
And now by this, I thinke the man I sent,
Is neere retourn'd that brings me my dispatch.
God grant his cunning sort to good euent,
And that his skill may well beguile my watch:
So shall I shun disgrace, leaue to be sorry,
Flie to my loue, scape my foe, free my soule;
So shall I act the last of life with glory,
Die like a Queene, and rest without controule.
Exit.
CHORVS.
[Page]MIsterious Egypt, wonder breeder,
Strict Religions strange obseruer,
State-ordrer zeale, the best rule-keeper,
Fostring still in temp'rate feruor:
O how cam'st thou to lose so wholy
all religion, law and order?
And thus become the most vnholy
of all Lands, that Nylus border?
How could confus'd Disorder enter
where sterne Law sate so seuerely?
How durst weake lust and riot venter
th'eye of Iustice looking neerely?
Could not those meanes that made thee great
Be still the meanes to keepe thy state?
Ah no, the course of things requireth
change and alteration euer:
That stayd continuance man desireth,
th'vnconstant world yeeldeth neuer.
We in our counsels must be blinded,
And not see what doth import vs:
And often times the thing least minded
is the thing that most must hurt vs.
Yet they that haue the sterne in guiding,
tis their fault that should preuent it,
Who when they see their Country sliding,
for their priuate are contented.
[Page]We imiiate the greater powers,
The Princes manners fashion ours.
Th'example of their light regarding,
vulgar loosenesse much incenses:
Vice uncontrould, growes wide inlarging,
Kings small faults be great offences.
And this hath set the window open
vnto licence, lust, and riot:
This way confusion first found broken,
whereby entred our disquiet,
Those lawes that olde Sesostris founded,
and the Ptolomies obserued,
Hereby first came to be confounded,
which our state so long preserued.
The wanton luxurie of Court.
Did forme the people of like sort.
For all (respecting priuate pleasure,)
vniuersally consenting
To abuse their time their treasure,
in their owne delights contenting:
And future dangers nought respecting,
whereby, (O how easie matter
Made this so generall neglesting,
confus'd weakenesse to discatter?)
Caesar found th'effect true tried,
in his easie entrance making:
Who at the sight of armes, deseryed
all our people, all forsaking.
For ryot (worse then warre,) so sore
[Page]Had wasted all our strength before.
And thus is Egypt seruile rendred
to the insolent destroyer:
And all their sumptuous treasure tendred,
all her wealth that did betray her,
Which poison (O if heauen be rightfull,)
may so farre infect their sences,
That Egypts pleasures so delightfull,
may breed them the like offences.
And Romans learne our way of weakenes,
be instructed in our vices:
That our spoiles may spoile your greatnes,
ouercome with our deuises.
Fill full your hands, and carry home
Enough from vs to ruine Rome.
ACTVS QVINTVS.
Dolabella. Titius.
Dol.
COme tell me Titius eu'ry circumstance
How Cleopatra did receiue my newes:
Tell eu'ry looke, each gesture, countenance,
That she did in my Letters reading vse.
Tit.
I shall my Lord, so farre as I could note,
Or my conceit obserue in any wise.
It was the time when as she hauing got
Leaue to her Deerest dead to sacrifice;
And now was issuing out the monument
[Page]With odors, incense, garlands in her hand,
When I approacht (as one from Caesar sent,)
And did her close, thy message t'vnderstand.
She turnes her backe, and with her takes me in,
Reades in thy lines thy strange vnlookt for tale:
And reades, and smiles, and staies, and doth begin
Againe to read, then blusht, and then was pale.
And hauing ended with a sigh, refoldes
Thy Letter vp: and with a fixed eye,
(Which stedfast her imagination holds)
She mus'd a while, standing confusedly:
At length. Ah friend, saith she) tell thy good Lord,
How deere I hold his pittying of my case:
That out of his sweete nature can affoord
A miserable woman so much grace.
Tell him how much my heauy soule doth grieue;
Mercilesse Caesar should so deale with me:
Pray him that he would all the counsell giue,
That might diuert him from such crueltie.
As for my loue, say Antony hath all,
Say that my hart is gone into the graue
With him, in whom it rests and euer shall:
I haue it not my selfe, not cannot haue.
Yet tell him, he shall more command of me
Then any, whosoeuer liuing can.
Hee that so friendly shewes himselfe to be
A right kinde Roman, and a Gentleman.
Although his Nation (fatall vnto me,)
Haue had mine age a spoile, my youth a pray,
Yet his affection must accepted be,
That fauours one distrest in her decay.
Ah. he was worthy then to haue been lou'd,
Of Cleopatra whiles her glory lasted;
Before she had declining fortune prou'd,
Or seen her honour wrackt, her flowre thus blasted.
Now there is nothing left her but disgrace,
Nothing but her affliction that can moue,
Tell Dolabella, one that's in her case.
(Poore soule) needs rather pity now then loue.
But shortly shall thy Lord heare more of me.
And ending so her speech, no longer stai'd,
But hasted to the tombe of Antonie,
And this was all she did, and all she said.
Dol.
Ah sweete distressed Lady. What hard hart
Could chuse but pity thee, and loue thee too?
Thy worthines, the state where in thou art
Requireth both, and both I vow to doo.
Although ambition lets not Caesar see
The wrong he doth thy maiesty and sweetnesse.
Which makes him now exact so much of thee,
To adde vnto himselfe to grace his greatnesse,
He knowes thou canst no hurt procure vs now,
Sith all thy strength is seizd into our hands:
Nor seares he that, but rather labours how
He might shew Rome so great a Queene in bands:
That our great Ladies (enuying thee so much
That stain'd them all, and held them in such wonder,)
Might ioy to see thee, and thy fortune such,
Thereby extolling him that brought thee vnder,
But I will seeke to stay it what I may;
I am but one, yet one that Caesar loues,
And O if now I could do more then pray,
[Page]Then should'st thou know how farre affection moues,
But what my powre and prayer may preuaile,
Ile ioyne them both, to hinder thy disgrace:
And euen this present day I will not faile
To doe my best with Caesar in this case.
Tit.
And sir, euen now herselfe hath letters sent.
I met her messenger as I came hither,
With a dispatch as he to Caesar went,
But know not what imports her sending thither.
Yet this he told, how Cleopatra late
Was come from sacrifice. How richly clad
Was seru'd to dinner in most sumptuous state,
With all the brauest ornaments she had.
How hauing din'd, she writes, and sends away
Him strait to Caesar, and commanded than
All should depart the Tombe, and none to stay
But her two maides, and one Poore countriman.
Dol.
Why then I know she sends t'haue audience now,
And meanes t'experience what her state can do:
To see it maiestie will make him bow
To what affliction could not moue him too.
And O, if now she could but bring a view
Of that fresh beauty she in youth possest
(The argument wherewith she ouerthrew
The wit of Iulius Caesar, and the rest,)
Then happily Augustus might relent.
Whilst powrefull Loue, (farre stronger then ambition)
Might worke in him, a minde to be content
To condescend vnto her small petition
But being as she is, yet doth she merite
To be respected for her hauing been,
[Page]The wonder of her kinde, of so rare spirit,
A glorious Lady, and a mighty Queene.
And now, but by a little weakenesse [...]alling
To do that which perhaps sh'was forst to do:
Alas, an errour past, is past recalling,
Take away weakenesse, and take women too.
But now I go [...] to be thy aduocate,
Sweete Cleopatra, now [...]le vse mine arte.
Thy presence will me greatly animate,
Thy face will teach my tongue, thy loue my hart.
SCENA SECVNDA.
Nuntius.
AM I ordain'd the carefull Messenger,
And sad newes-bringer of the strangest death,
Which selfe hand did vpon it selfe inferre,
To free a captiue soule from seruile breath?
Must I the lamentable wonder shew,
Which all the world may grieue and maruell at?
The rarest forme of death on earth below,
That euer pitty, glory, wonder gat.
Cho.
What newes bringst thou, can Egipt yet yeeld more,
Of sorrow than it hath? what can it adde
Vnto th'already ouerflowing store
Of sad affliction, matter yet more sad?
Haue we not seene our worst calamity?
Is there behind yet something of distresse
Vnknowne? if there be greater misery
Relate it, that we do not waile the lesse.
[Page]Tell vs what so it be, and tell at first,
For sorrow euer longs to heare her worst.
Nu.
Well then, the strangest thing relate I will,
That euer eye of mortall man hath seene.
I (as you know) euen from my youth, haue still
Attended on the person of the Queene:
And euer in all fortunes good or ill,
With her as one of chiefest trust haue beene.
And now in these so great extremities,
That euer could to maiesty be fall,
I did my best in what I could deuise,
And left her not, till now she left vs all.
Cho.
What is she gone. Hath Caesar forst her so?
Nun.
Yea, she is gone, and hath deceiu'd him too.
Cho.
What, fled to India; to go find her sonne?
Nun.
No, not to India, but to finde her sonne.
Cho.
Why thē there's hope she may her state recouer
Nun.
Her state? nay rather honour, and her Louer.
Cho.
Her Louer? him she cannot haue againe.
Nun.
Wel, him she hath, with him she doth remaine
Cho.
Why thē she's dead Ist so? why speakst not thou
Nun.
You gesse aright, and I will tell you how.
When she perceiu'd all hope was cleane bereft,
That Caesar meant to send her strait away,
And saw no meanes of reconcilement left,
Worke what she could, she could not worke to stay:
She calls me to her, and she thus began.
O thou, whose trust hath euer beene the same,
And one in all my fortunes, faithfull man,
Alone conten [...] t'attend disgrace and shame.
Thou, whom the fea [...]efull ruine of my fall,
[Page]Neuer deterr'd to leaue calamitie:
As did those others smooth state-pleasers all,
Who followed but my fortune, and not me.
Tis thou must do a seruice for thy Queene,
Wherein thy faith and skill must do their best:
Thy honest care and d [...]uy shal be seene,
Performing this, more then in all the rest.
For all what thou hast done, may die with thee,
Although tis pitty that such faith should die.
But this shall euermore remembred be,
A rare example to posterity.
And looke how long as Cleopatra shall
In after ages liue in memory.
So long shall thy cleere same endure withall,
And therefore thou must not my sute deny
Nor contradict my will. For what I will
I am resolu'd [...] and this now must it be:
Go find me out with all thy art and skill
Two Aspicks, and conuay them close to me.
I haue a worke to do with them in hand,
Enquire not what, for thou shalt soone see what,
If th'heauens do not my disseigns withstand,
But do thy charge, and let me shift with that.
Being thus coniur'd by her t'whom I had vow'd
My true perpetuall seruice, forth I went,
Deuising how my close attempt to shrowde,
So that there might no art my art preuent.
And so disguisd in habite as you see,
Hauing found out the thing for which I went,
I soone return'd againe, and brought with me
The Aspicks, in a basket closely pent.
[Page]Which I had filld with Figges, and leaues vpon.
And comming to the guard that kept the dore,
What hast thou there? said they, and lookt thereon.
Seeing the figges, they deem'd of nothing more,
But said, they were the fayrest they had seene.
Taste some, said I, for they are good and pleasant.
No, no, said they, go beare them to thy Queene,
Thinking me some poore man that brought a present.
Well, in I went, wherebrighter then the Sunne,
Glittering in all her pompous rich aray,
Great Cleopatra sate, as if sh'had wonne
Caesar, and all the world beside this day:
Euen as she was when on thy cristall streames.
Cleere Cydnos she did shew what earth could shew.
When Asia all ama'zd in wonder deemes
Venus from heauen was come on earth below,
Euen as she went at first to meet her Loue,
So goes she now at last againe to find him.
But that first, did her greatnesse onely proue,
This last her loue, that could not liue behind him.
Yet as she sate, the doubt of my good speed,
Detracts much from the sweetnesse of her looke:
Cheere-marrer Care, did then such passions breed,
That made her eye bewray the griefe she tooke.
But she no sooner sees me in the place,
But strait her sorrow-clouded brow she cleeres,
Lightning a smile from out a stormie face.
Which all her tempest-beaten sences cheeres.
Looke how a strayed perplexed traueller,
When chasd by theeues, and euen at point of [...]king,
Descrying sodainly some towne not far,
[Page]Or some vnlookt for aide to him-warde making;
Cheeres vp his tyred sprites, thrusts forth his strength
To meete that good, that comes in so good houre:
Such was her ioy perceiuing now at length,
Her honour was t'escape so proud a power.
Forth from her seate she hastes to meete the present,
And as one ouer-ioy'd, she caught it strait.
And with a smiling cheere in action pleasant,
Looking among the figs, findes the deceit.
And seeing there the vgly venemous beast,
Nothing dismaid, she fayes and views it well,
At length th'extreamest of her passion ceast,
When she began with words her ioy to tell.
O rarest beast (saith she) that Affrick breeds,
How deerely welcome art thou vnto me?
The fearest creature that faire Nylus feedes
Me thinks I see, in now beholding thee.
What though the euer-erring world doth deeme
That angred Nature fram'd thee bu [...] in spight?
Little they know what they of light esteeme,
That neuer learn'd the wonder of thy might.
Better then Death, Deaths office thou dischargest.
That with on [...] gentle touch canst free our breath:
And in a pleasing sleepe our soule inlargest,
Making our selues not priuy to our death,
If Nature err'd, O then how happy e [...]or,
Thinking to make thee worst, she made the best:
Sith thou best freest vs from our liues worst terror,
In sweetly bringing; soules to quiet rest.
When that inexorable Monster Death
That follows Fortune, flies the poore distressed,
[Page]Tortures our bodies ere he takes our breath,
And loads with paines th'already weake oppressed.
How oft haue I begg'd praid. intreated him
To take my life, which he would neuer do,
And when he comes, he coms so vgly grim,
Attended on with hidious torments to.
Therefore come thou, of wonders wonder chiefe
That open canst with such a [...] easiekey
The doore of life, come gentle cunning thiefe,
That from our selues so steal'st our selues away.
Well did our Priests discerne somthing diuine
Shadow'd in thee, and therefore first they did
Offrings and worships due to thee assigne,
In whom they found such mysteries were hid.
Comparing thy swift motion to the Sunne,
That mou'st without the instruments that moue:
And neuer waxing old, but alwayes one,
Doost therein a diuinity approue.
And therefore too, the rather vnto thee
In zeale I make the offring of my bloud,
Calamity confirming now in me
A sure beliefe that piety makes good.
Which happy men neglect, or hold ambiguous,
And only the afflicted are religious.
And here I sacrifice these armes to Death,
That Lust late dedicated to Delights:
Offring vp for my last, this last of breath,
The complement of my loues dearest rites,
With that she bares her arme, and offer makes
To touch her death, yet at the touch with drawes,
And seeming more to speake, occasion takes,
[Page]Willing to die, and willing too to pause.
Looke how a mother at her sonnes departing
For some farre voyage bent to get him fame,
Doth entertaine him with an idle pa [...]ling
And still doth speake, and still speakes but the same;
Now bids farewell, and now recalles him backe,
Tells what was told, and bids againe farewell,
And yet againe recalles; for still doth lacke
Something that Loue would faine and cannot tell.
Pleas'd he should go, yet cannot let him go.
So she, although she knew there was no way
But this, yet this she could not handle so
But she must shew that life desir'd delay.
Faine would she entertaine the time as now.
And now would faine that Death would seize vpō her,
Whilst I might see presented in her brow,
The doubtfull combate tride twixt Life and Honor.
Life bringing Legions of fresh hopes with her,
Arm'd with the proofe of time, which yeeldes we say
Comfort and helpe, to such as doe referre
All vnto him, and can admit delay.
But Honour scorning Life, loe forth leades hee
Cleere Immorralitie arm'd all in flames:
Through whose bright shining rayes of glory, she
Might see how base was life that her defames.
Besides she saw whole armies of reproches,
And base Disgraces, Furies fearfull, sad,
Marching therewith, and Shame that still incroches
Vpon her face, in blushing colours clad.
Which representments seeing, farre worse then death
Shee deem'd to yeeld to Life, and therefore chose
[Page]To render all to Honour, heart and breath:
And that with speede, least that her inward foes
False flesh and bloud, ioyning with life and hope,
Should mutinie against her resolution.
And to the end she would not giue them scope,
Shee presently proceeds to th'execution.
And sharpely blaming of her rebell powres,
False flesh (saith she) and what dost thou conspire
With Caesar too, as thou wert none of ours,
To worke my shame, and hinder my desire?
Wilt thou retaine in closure of thy vaines,
That enemy base life, to let my good?
No, know there is a greater powre constraines
Then can be counterchekt with fearefull blood.
For to the minde that's great, nothing seemes great [...]
And seeing death to be the last of woes,
And life lasting disgrace, which I shall get,
What doe I lose, that haue but life to lose?
This hauing said, strengthned in her owne hart.
And vnion of her selfe, sences in one
Charging together, she performes that part
That hath so great a part of glory wonne,
And so receiues the deadly poys'ning tuch;
That touch that tride the gold of her loue, pure,
And hath confirm'd her honour to be such,
As must a wonder to all worlds endure.
Now not an yeelding shrinke or touch of feare,
Consented to bewray least sence of paine:
But still in one same sweete vnalired cheere,
Her honour did her dying thoughts retaine.
Well, now this worke is done (saith she) heere ends
[Page]This act of Life, that part the Fares assign'd:
What glory of disgraces this world lends,
Both haue I had, and both I leaue behind.
And now ô earth, the Theater where I
Haue acted this, witnesse I die vnforst.
Witnesse my soule partes free to Antony,
And now prowde Tyrant Caesar do thy worst.
This said, she staies, and makes a sodaine pause,
As if to feele w [...]her the poyson wrought:
Or rather else the working might be cause
That made her stay, and intertain'd her thought.
For in that instant I might well perceiue
The drowsie humour in her falling brow:
And how each powre, each part opprest did leaue
Their former office, and did sencelesse grow.
Looke how a new pluckt branch against the Sunne,
Declines his fading leaues in feeble sort;
So her disioyned ioyn [...] ures as vndone,
Let fall her weake dissolued limbes support.
Yet loe that face the wonder of her life,
Retaines in death, a grace that graceth death,
Colour so liuely, cheere so louely rise,
That none would think such beauty could wāt breath.
And in that cheere th'impression of a smile,
Did seeme to shew she scorned Death and Caesar,
As glorying that she could them both beguile,
And telling Death how much her death did please her
Wonder it was to see how soone she went,
She went with such a will, and did so haste it,
That sure I thinke shee did her paine preuent,
Fore-going paine, or staying not to taste it,
[Page]And sencelesse, in her sincking downe she wries
The Diademe which on her head she wore,
Which Charmion (poore weake feeble maid) espies,
And hastes to right it as it was before.
For Eras now was dead, and Charmion too
Euen at the point, for both would immitate
Their Mistresse glory, striuing like to doo.
But Charmion would in this exceed her mate,
For she would haue this honour to be last,
That should adorne that head that must be seene
To weare that Crowne in death, which life held fast,
That all the world might know she dide a Queene,
And as she stood setting it fitly on,
Loe, in rush Caesars messengers in haste,
Thinking to haue preuented what was done.
But yet they came too late, for all was past.
For there they found stretcht on a bed of gold,
Dead Cleopatra, and that prowdly dead,
In all the rich attire procure she could,
And dying Charmion trimming of her head,
And Eras at her feete, dead in like case.
Charmion, is this well done? said one of them.
Yea, well said she, and her that from the race
Of so great Kings descends, doth best become.
And with that word, yeelds to, her faithfull breath,
To passe th'assurance of her loue with death.
Cho.
But how knew Caesar of her close intents
Nun.
By Letters which before to him she sent.
For when she had procur'd this meanes to die,
She writes, and earnestly intreates, she might
Be buried in one Tombe with Antony,
[Page]Whereby then Caesar gess'd all went not right.
And forthwith sends, yet ere the message came
She was dispatcht, he crost in his intent.
Her prouidence had ordred so the same,
That she was sure none should her plot preuent.
CHORVS.
THen thus we haue beheld
Th'accomplishment of woes
The full of ruine and
The worst of worst of ills:
And seene all hope expeld,
That euer sweete repose
Shall repossesse the Land,
That Desolation fills,
And where Ambition spills
With vncontrouled hand,
All th'issue of all those
That so long rule haue held:
To make vs no more vs,
But cleane confound vs thus.
And canst O Nylus thou,
Father of flouds indure,
That yellow Tyber should
With sandy streames rule thee?
Wilt thou be pleas'd to bow
To him those feete so pure,
Whose vnknowne head we hold
A powre diuine to be?
Thou that didst euer see
[Page]Thy free bankes vncontrould,
Liue vnder thine owne care:
Ah wilt thou beare it now?
And now wilt yeeld thy streames
A prey to other Reames?
Draw backe thy waters flo
To thy concealed head:
Rockes strangle vp thy waues,
Stop Cataractes thy fall.
And turne thy courses so,
That sandy Desarts dead,
(The world of dust that craues
To swallow thee vp all,
May drinke so much as shall
Reuiue from vastie graues
A liuing greene which spred
Far florishing, may gro
On that wide face of Death,
Where nothing now drawes breath,
Fatten some people there,
Euen as thou vs hast done,
With plenties wanton store,
And feeble luxurie:
And them as vs prepare
Fit for the day of mone
Respected not before.
Leaue leuell'd Egypt drie,
A barren prey to lie,
Wasted for euer-more,
Of plenties yeelding none
[Page]To recompence the care
Of Victors greedy lust,
And bring forth nought but dust.
And so O leaue to be,
Sith thou art what thou art:
Let not our race possesse
Th'inheritance of shame,
The fee of sinne, that we
Haue left them for their part:
The yoake of whose distresse
Must still vpbraid our blame,
Telling from whom it came,
Our weight of wantonnesse
Lies heauie on their hart,
Who neuer-more shall see
The glory of that worth
They left, who brought vs forth.
O thou all-seeing light,
High President of heauen,
You magistrates the starres
Of that eternall Court
Of Prouidence and Right
Are these the bounds y'haue giuen
Th'vntranspassable barres,
That limit pride so short,
Is greatnesse of this sort,
That greatnesse greatnesse marres,
And wracks it selfe, selfe driuen
On Rocks of her owne might?
Doth Order order so
Disorders ouer-thro?
FINIS.
THE COMPLAINT of ROSAMOND.
OVT from the horror of Infernall deepes,
My poore afflicted ghost coms heere to plaine it,
Attended with my shame that neuer sleepes,
The spot where-with my kinde & youth did staine it.
My body found a graue where to containe it.
A sheete could hide my face, but not my sin,
For Fame findes neuer tombe t'inclose it in.
And which is worse, my soule is now denied,
Her transport to the sweet Elisian rest,
The ioyfull blisse for ghosts repurified,
The euer-springing Gardens of the blest:
Caron denies me waftage with the rest.
And saies, my soule can neuer passe the Riuer,
Till Louers sighes on earth shall it deliuer.
So shall I neuer passe; for how should I
Procure this sacrifice amongst the liuing?
Time hath long since worne out the memorie
Both of my life, and liues vniust depriuing,
Sorrow for me is dead for aye reuiuing:
Rosamond hath little left her but her name,
And that disgrac'd for time hath wrong'd the same.
No muse, suggests the pitty of my case,
Each pen doth ouerpasse my iust complaint,
Whilst others are preferd, though far more base:
Shores wife is grac'd, and passes for a Saint;
Her Legend iustifies her foule attaint,
Her wel-told tale did such compassion find,
That she is pass'd, and I am left behinde.
Which seene with griefe, my miserable ghost,
(Whilome inuested in so faire a vaile,
Which whilst it liu'd, was honored of the most,
And being dead giues matter to bewaile,)
Comes to solicite thee, (since others faile,)
To take this taske, and in thy wofull song
To forme my case, and regester my wrong.
Although I know thy iust lamenting Muse.
Toyld in th'affliction of thine owne distresse,
In others cares hath little time to vse,
And therefore maist esteeme of mine the lesse:
Yet as thy hopes attend happy redresse,
Thy ioyes depending on a womans grace,
So moue thy minde a wofull womans case.
DHLIA may hap to deigne to reade our story,
And offer vp her sigh among the rest.
Who [...]e merit would suffice for both our glory,
Whereby thou might'st be grac'd and I be blest;
That indulgence would profit me the best.
Such power she hath by whom thy youth is led,
To ioy the liuing, and to blesse the dead.
So I (through beauty) made the wofull'st wight,
By beauty might haue comfort after death:
That dying fairest, by the fairest might
Find life aboue on earth, and rest beneath.
She that can blesse vs with one happy breath,
Giue comfort to thy Muse to do her best,
That thereby thou mayst ioy, and I might rest
Thus said: forth with mou'd with a tender care,
And pitty, (which my selfe could neuer find,)
What she desir'd, my Muse deign'd to declare,
And therefore, will'd her boldely tell her minde.
And I (more willing) tooke this charge assign'd,
Because her griefs were worthy to be knowne,
And telling hers, might hap forget mine owne.
Then write (quoth she) the ruine of my youth,
Report the downe-fall of my slip [...]y st [...]te,
Of all my life reuaile the simple trueth,
To teach to others what I learnt too late.
Exemplifie my frailty, tell how Fate
Keeps in eternall darke our fortunes hidden,
And ere they come, to know them tis forbidden.
For Whilst the Sun-shine of my fortune lasted,
I ioy'd the happiest warmth, the sweetest hea [...]e:
That euer yet imper [...]ous beauty tasted,
I had what glory euer flesh could get:
But this faire morning had a shamefull set.
Disgrace darkt honor, sinne did cloud my brow,
As note the sequel, and Ile tell thee how.
The bloud I staind, was good and of the best,
My b [...]th had honour, and my beauty fame:
Nature and Fortune ioin'd to make me blest,
Had [...] had g [...]ace [...]haue knowne to vse the same.
My education shew'd from whence I came,
And all concurd to make me happy furst,
That so great hap might make me more accurst,
Happy liu'd I whilst parents eye did guide
The indiscretion of my feeble wayes,
And country home kept me from being eide,
Where best vnknowne I spent my sweetest dayes:
Till that my friends mine honor sough to raise
To higher place, which greater credite yeeldes.
Deeming such beauty was vnfit for feeldes.
From Country then to Court I was preferr'd,
From calme to stormes, from shore into the deepes:
There where I perish'd, where my youth first err'd,
There where I lost the floure which honour keepes,
There where the worser thriues, the better weepes;
Ay me (poore wench) on that vnhappy shelfe,
I grounded me, and cast away my selfe.
There whereas fraile and tender Beauty stands,
With all assaulting powres inuironed;
Hauing but prayers and weake feeble hands
To hold their honors Fort vnvanquished;
There where to stand, and be vnconquered,
Is to b'aboue the nature of our kinde,
That cannot long for pitty be vnkinde.
For thither com'd, when yeeres had arm'd my youth,
With rarest proofe of beauty euer seene:
When my reuiuing eye had learnt the truth,
That it had power to make the winter greene,
And floure affections whereas none had beene;
Soone could I teach my brow to tyrannize,
And make the world do homage to mine eies.
For age I saw, (though yeeres with cold conceit,
Congeald their thoughts against a warme des [...]e,)
Yet sigh their want, and looke at such a bait;
I saw how youth was waxe before the fire;
I saw by stealth, I fram'd my looke a lyre,
Yet well perceiued, how Fortune made me then
The enuy of my sexe, and wonder vnto men.
Looke how a Comet at the first appearing,
Drawes all mens eyes with wonder to behold it:
Or as the saddest tale at suddaine hearing,
Makes silent listning vnto him that told it,
So did my speech when Rubies did vnfold it:
So did the blasing of my blush appeare,
T'amaze the world, that holds such sights so deere.
Ah beauty Syren, saire enchaunting good,
Sweete silent the torique of perswading eyes:
Dombe eloquence, whose power doth moue the bloud
More then the words, or wisdome of the wise:
Still harmony, whose diapason lies
Within a brow, the [...]oy which passions moue.
To rauish sence, and play a world in loue.
What might I then not do whose powre was such?
What cannot women do that knowe their powre?
What women knowes it not (I feare too much)
How blisse or bale lyes in their laugh or lowre?
Whilst they enioy their happy blooming flowre,
Whilst nature deckes them in their best attires
Of youth and beauty which the world admires.
Such one was I, my beauty was mine owne,
No borrowed blush which bank-rot beau [...]les seeke:
That new-found shame, a finne to vs vnknowne,
Th'adulterate beauty of a falsed cheeke:
Vilde staine to honour, and to women eeke,
Seeing that time our f [...]ding must detect.
Thus with defect to couer our defect.
Implety of times, Chastities aba [...]or,
Falshood, wherein thy selfe thy selfe deniest:
Treason to counterfet the seale of Nature,
The stampe of heauen, impressed by the hiest.
Disgrace vnto the world, to whom thou liest.
Idoll vnto thy selfe, shame to the wise,
And all that honour thee idolatrise.
Farre was that sinne from vs whose age was pure,
When simple beauty was accounted best,
The time when women had no other lure
But modestie, pure cheekes, a vertuous brest.
This was the pompe wherewith my youth was blest.
These were the weapons which mine honour won.
In all the conflicts which mine eyes begunne.
Which were not smale, I wrought on no mean [...] oblect,
A Crowne was at my feete, Scepters obeyd me,
Whom Fortūe made my King, Loue made my subiect,
Who did cōmaund the Land, most humbly praid me,
Henry the second, that so highly weigh'd me.
Found wel (by proofe) the priuiledge of beuty,
That it had powre to counter-maund all duty.
For after all his victories in France,
And all the triumphs of his honor wonne:
Vnmatcht; by sword, was vanquisht by a glance.
And hotter warres within his breast begunne.
Warres, whom whole legions of desires drew on:
Against all which, my chastity contends
With force of honour, which my shame defends.
No armour might be found that could defend,
Transpearcing raies of cristall poynted eyes:
No stratagem, no reason could amend,
No not his age; (yet olde men should be wise.)
But shews deceiue, outward appearance lies.
Let none for seeming so, thinke Saints of others,
For all are men, and all haue suckt their mothers.
Who would haue thought a Mōarch would haue eues
Obeyd his hand-maide of so meane estate:
Vultu [...]e [...]mbition feeding on his liuer,
Age haui [...]g worne his pleasures out of date,
But hap comes neuer, or it comes too late.
For such a dainty which his youth found not,
Vnto his feeble age did chaunce a lot.
Ah Fortune, neuer absolutely good,
For that some crosse still counter-checks our luck:
As heere behold th'incomparible blood,
Of age and youth was that whereon we stuck:
Whose lothing, we from natures brests do suck,
As opposite to what our bloud requires,
For equall age, doth equall like desires.
But mighty men, in highest honour sitting,
Nought but applause and pleasure can behold:
Sooth'd in their liking, carelesse what is fitting,
May not be suffred once to thinke the'are old:
Not trusting what they see, but what is told.
Miserable fortune to forget so farre
The state of flesh, and what our frailties are.
Yet must I needs excuse so great defect
For drinking of the Lethe of mine eies,
H'is forc'd forget himselfe, and all respect
Of maiesty, whereon his state relies:
And now of loues, and pleasures must deuise.
For thus reuiu'd againe he serues and su'th,
And seekes all meanes to vndermine my youth.
Which neuer by assault he could recouer,
So well incamp'd in strength of chast desires:
My cleane-arm'd thoughts repelld an vnchaste louer.
The Crowne that could commaund what it requires,
I lesser prizd then Chastities attires.
Th'vnstayned vaile, which innocents adornes,
Th'vngathred Rose, defended with the thrones.
And safe mine honour stoode, till that in truth,
One of my sexe, of place, and nature bad,
Was set in ambush to intrap my youth.
One in the habite of our frailty clad,
One who the liu'ry of like weaknesse had.
A seeming Matron, yet a sinfull monster,
As by her wordes the chaster sort may conster.
She set vpon me with the smoothest speech
That Court and Age could cunningly deuise,
Th'one authentique, made her fit to teach,
The other learnd her how to subtelise.
Both were enough to circumuent the wise.
A document that well might teach the sage,
That there's no trust in youth, nor hope in age.
Daughter (said she) behold thy happy chance,
That hast the lot cast downe into thy lap.
Whereby thou maist thy honor great aduance,
Whilst thou (vnhappy) wilt not see thy hap:
Such fond respect thy youth doth so inwrap,
T'oppose thy selfe against thine owne good fortune,
That poynts thee out, and seemes thee to importune.
Doost thou not see [...] how that thy King (thy Ioue)
Lightens forth glory on thy darke estate:
And showres downe golde and treasure from aboue.
Whilst thou doost shut thy lap against thy fate?
Fie sondling fie, thou wilt repent too late
The error of thy youth; that canst not see
What is the fortune that doth follow thee.
Thou must not thinke thy flowre can alwaies florish,
And that thy beautie will be still admired:
But that those raies which all these flames do nourish,
Cancel'd with Time, will haue their date expired,
And men will scorne what now is so desired.
Our frailties doome is written in the flowers,
Which flourish now, and fade ere many howers.
Reade in my face the ruines of my youth,
The wracke of yeeres vpon my aged brow;
I haue beene faire (I must confesse the truth)
And stood vpon as nice respects as thou;
I lost my time, and I repent it now.
But were I to begin my youth againe,
I would redeeme the time I spent in vaine.
But thou hast yeeres, and priuiledge to vse them,
Thy priuiledge doth beare Beauties great seale:
Besides, the lawe of Nature doth excuse them,
To whom thy youth may haue a iust appeale.
Esteeme not Fame more then thou doost thy weale.
Fame (wherof the world seems to make such choice)
Is but an Eccho, and an idle voice,
Then why should this respect of honour bound vs,
In th'imaginarie listes of reputation?
Titles which cold seueritie hath found vs,
Breath of the vulgar, foe to recreation:
Ages opinion, Customes out-worne fashion,
Pleasures plague, beauties scourge, hell to the faire,
To leaue the sweete, for Castles in the aire.
Pleasure i [...] felt, opinion but conceau'd,
Honor, a thing without vs, not our owne:
Whereof we see how many are bereau'd,
Which should haue reap'd the glory they had sowne
And many haue it, yet vnworthy, knowne.
So breaches his blast this many-headed beast,
Whereof the wisest haue esteemed least.
The subtile Citty-women, better learned,
Esteeme them chast enough that best seeme so:
Who though they sport, it shall not be discerned,
Their face bewrayes not what their bodyes do;
Tis warie walking that doth safeliest go.
With shew of vertue, as the cunning knowes.
Babes are beguild with sweets, & më with sho,
Then vse thy tallent youth shall be thy warrant,
And let not honour from thy sports detract:
Thou must not fondly thinke thy selfe transparent,
That those who see thy face can iudge thy fact,
Let her haue shame that cannot closely act.
And seeme the chast, which is the chiefest arte,
For what we seeme each see, none knows out hart.
The mighty, who can with such sinnes dispence,
In steed of shame do honors great bestow:
A worthy Author doth redeeme th'offence,
And makes the scarlet sinne as white as snow,
The Maiestie that doth descend so low,
Is not defilde but pure remaines therein,
And being sacred, sanctifies the sinne,
What, doost thou stand on this, that he is old?
Thy beautie hath the more to worke vpon.
Thy pleasures want shall be supplide with gold,
Cold age dotes most when heate of youth is gone:
Enticing words preuaile with such a one.
Alluring shewes most deepe impression strikes
For age is prone to credite what it likes.
Heere interrupt, she leaues me in a doubt,
When loe began the combate in my blood,
See'ing my weake youth inuiron'd round about,
The ground vncertaine where my reasons stood;
Small my defence to make my party good,
Against such powers which were so surely laid,
To ouerthrow a poore vnskilfull Maid.
Treason was in my bones, my selfe conspiring,
To fell my selfe to lust, my soule to sin:
Pure-blushing shame was euen vpon retiring,
Leauing the sacred hold it glori'd in.
Honor lay prost [...]ate for my flesh to win,
When cleaner thoughts my weaknesse gan vpbray
Against my selfe, and shame did force me say;
Ah Rosamond, what doth thy flesh prepare?
Destruction to thy dayes, death to thy fame,
Wilt thou betray that honour held with care,
T'entombe with black reproch a spotted name?
Leauing thy blush the colours of thy shame?
Opening thy feete to sinne, thy soule to lust,
Gracelesse to lay thy glory in the dust?
Nay, first let th'earth gape wide to swallow thee,
And shut thee vp in bosome with her dead,
Ere Serpent tempt thee taste forbidden Tree,
Or feele the warmth of an vnlawfull bed;
Suffring thy selfe by lust to be misled;
So to disgrace thy selfe and g [...]ieue thine heires,
That Cli [...]ords race should scorne thee one of theirs.
Neuer wish longer to enioy the aire,
Then that thou breath'st the breath of chastitie:
Longer then thou preseru'st thy soule as faire
As is thy face, free from impu [...]itie.
Thy face, that makes th'admir'd in euery eye,
Where Natures care such rarities inroule,
Which vs'd amisse, may serue to damne thy soule.
But what? he is my King and may constraine me,
Whether I yeelde or not, I liue diffamed.
The world will thinke authori [...]ie did gaine me,
I shall be iudg'd his Loue, and so be shamed.
We see the faire condem'nd, that neuer gamed.
And if I yeeld, tis honourable shame,
If no [...], I liue disgrac'd, yet thought the same.
What way is left thee then (vnhappy maide,)
Whereby thy spotlesse foote, may wander out
This dreadfull danger, which thou seest is laid,
Wherein thy shame doth compasse thee about?
Thy simple yeares cannot resolue this doubt.
Thy youth can neuer guide thy foote so euen,
But (in despite) some scandale will be giuen.
Thus stood I ballanc'd equally precize,
Till my fraile flesh did weigh me downe to sin;
Till world and pleasure made me partialize,
And glittering pompe my vanitie did win,
When to excuse my fault my lusts begin.
And impious thoughts alledg'd this wanton clause,
That though I sinn'd, my sinne had honest cause.
So well the golden balles cast downe before me,
Could entertaine my course, hinder my way:
Whereat my retchlesse youth stooping to store me,
Lost me the gole, the glory, and the day.
Pleasure had set my well school'd thoughts to play,
And bade me vse the vertue of mine eies,
For sweetly it fits the faire to wantonise.
Thus wrought to sin, soone was I traind from Court,
T'a solitarie G [...]ange, there to attend
The time the King should thither make resort,
Where he Loues long desired worke should end.
Thither he daily messages doth send,
With costly Iewels (Orators of Loue,)
Which (ah too well men know) do women moue.
The day before the night of my defeature,
He greets me with a Casket richly wrought;
So rare, that Arte did seeme to striue with Nature,
T'expresse the cunning worke-mens curious thought [...]
The mysterie whereof I prying sought,
And found engrauen on the lidde aboue,
Amymone, how she with Neptune stroue.
Amymone, old Danaus fairest Daughter,
As she was fetching water all alone
At Lerna: whereas Neptune came and caught her,
From whom she striu'd and strugled to be gone,
Beating the ay [...]e with cries and piteous mone:
But all in vaine, with him she's forc'd to go,
Tis shame that men should vse poore maidens so.
There might I see described how she lay,
At those proud feet, not satisfide with prayer:
Wayling her heauy hap, cursing the day,
In act so pitious to expresse despaire.
And by how much more grieu'd, so much more faire.
Her teares vpon her cheekes (poore carefull gerle,)
Did seeme against the Sunne christall and pearle.
Whose pure cleere streams, (which lo so faire appears)
Wrought hotter flames, (O miracle of loue.)
That kindles fire in water, heate in teares,
And makes neglected beauty mightier proue,
Teaching afflicted eyes affects to moue;
To shew that nothing ill becomes the faire,
But crueltie, which yeelds vnto no prayer.
This hauing viewd, and therewith something moued,
Figured I find within the other squares,
Transformed Io, Ioues deerely loued,
In her affliction how she strangely fares.
Strangely distress'd (O beautie, borne to cares,)
Turn'd to a Heiffer, kept with iealous eyes,
Alwayes in danger of her hatefull spies.
These presidents presented to my view,
Wherein the presage of my fall was showne,
Might haue fore-warn'd me well what would ensue,
And others harmes haue made me shun mine owne.
But fate is not preuented, though foreknowne.
For that must hap, decreed by heauenly powres,
Who worke our fall, yet make the fault still ours.
Witnesse the world, wherein is nothing riser,
Then miseries vnkend before they come:
Who can the characters of chaunce decipher,
Written in cloudes of our concealed dome?
Which though perhaps haue beene reueald to some,
Yet that so doubtfull, (as successe did proue them,)
That mē must know they haue the heu'ns aboue [...]
I saw the sinne wherein my foot was entring,
I saw how that dishonour did attend it,
I saw the shame whereon my flesh was ventring,
Yet had I not the vertue to defend it.
So weake is sence when error hath condemn'd it.
We see what's good, and thereto we consent,
But yet we choose the worst, and soone repent.
And now I come to tell the worst of illnesse,
Now drawes the date of mine affliction neere.
Now when the darke had wrapt vp all in stilnesse,
And dreadfull black had dispossess'd the cleere,
Com'd was the night, (mother of sleepe and feare;)
Who with her sable-mantle friendly couers,
The sweet-stolne sports, of ioyfull meeting Louers.
When loe, I ioy'd my Louer, not my Loue,
And felt the hand of lust most vndesired:
Enforc'd th'vnprooued bitter sweet to proue,
Which yeelds no mutuall pleasure when tis hired.
Loue's not constrain'd, nor yet of due required.
Iudge they who are vnfortunately wed,
VVhat tis to come vnto a loathed bed.
But soone his age receiu'd his short contenting,
And sleepe seald vp his languishing desires:
VVhen he turnes to his rest, I to repenting,
Into my selfe my waking thought retires:
My nakednes had prou'd my sences liers.
Now op'ned were mine eyes to looke therein,
For first we taste the fruit, then see our sin.
Now did I find my selfe vnparadis'd,
From those pure fields of my so cleane beginning:
Now I perceiu'd how ill I was aduis'd,
My flesh gan loathe the new-felt touch of sinning,
Shame leaues vs by degrees, not at first winning.
For nature checks a new offence with loathing,
But vse of sinne doth make it seeme as nothing.
And vse of sinne did worke in me a boldnesse,
And loue in him, incorporates such ze [...]le,
That iealousie increas'd with ages coldnes,
Fearing to loose the ioy of all his weale.
Or doubting time his stealth might else reueale [...]
H'is driuen to deuise some subtill way,
How he might safeliest keepe so rich a pray.
A stately Pallace he forthwith did build,
Whose, intricate innumerable wayes,
With such confused errors so beguild
Th'vnguided entrers with vncertaine strayes [...]
And doubtfull turnings kept them in delayes,
With bootlesse labour leading them about,
Able to finde no way, nor in, nor out.
Within the closed bosome of which frame,
That seru'd a Centre to that goodly Round:
Were lodgings, with a Garden to the same,
With sweetest flowers that eu'r adorn'd the ground.
And all the pleasures that delight hath found,
T'intertaine the sence of wanton eies,
Fuel of loue, from whence lufts flame arise.
Heere I inclos'd from all the world asunder,
The Mino aure of shame kept for disgrace,
The Monster of misfortune th'ages wonder,
Liu'd cloistred in so desolate a case:
None but the King might come into the place,
Wi [...]h certaine Maides that did attend my neede,
And he himselfe came guided by a threed.
O [...]ealousie, daughter of Hate and Loue,
Most way ward issue of a gentle fire;
Fostred with feares thy fathers ioyes t'improue,
Mirth-marring Monster borne a subtile lier;
Hatefull vnto thy selfe, flying thine owne desire:
Feeding vpon suspect that doth renue thee,
Happy were Louers if they neuer knew thee.
Thou hast a thousand gates thou enterest by,
Condemning trembling passions to our hart:
Hundred ey'd Argus, euer-waking Spie.
Pale Hagge, infernall Fury, pleasures smart,
Enuious Obseruer, prying in euery part:
Suspicious, fearefull, gazing still about thee,
O would to God that loue could be without thee.
Thou didst depriue (through false suggesting feare,)
Him of content, and me of liberty:
The onely good that women holde so deere,
And turnst my freedome to captiuity,
First made a prisoner ere an enemy.
Enioynd the ransome of my bodyes shame,
Which though I paide, could not redeeme the same,
What greater torment euer could haue beene,
Then to inforce the faire to liue retir'd?
For what is beautie if it be not seene?
Or what is't to beseene, vnlesse admir'd?
And though admir'd vnlesse in loue desir'd?
Neuer were cheekes of Roses, lockes of Amber,
Ordain'd to liue imprison'd in a Chamber.
Nature created Beauty for the view,
(Like as the fire for heate, the Sunne for light:)
The faire do hold this priuiledge as due
By ancient Charter, to liue most in sight,
And she that is debarr'd it, hath not right.
In vaine our friends from this, do vs dehort,
For Beauty will be where is most resort.
Witnes the fairest streetes that Thames doth visite,
The wondrous concourse of the glitt'ring Faire:
For what rare woman deckt with, beauty is it,
That thither couets not to make repaire?
The solitary Country may not stay her.
Here is the centre of all Beautyes best,
Excepting DELIA, left t'adorne the West.
Here doth the curious with iudiciall eies,
Contemplate Beauty gloriously atri [...]ed.
And heerein all our chiefest glory lies,
To liue where we are prais'd and most desired.
O how we ioy to see our selues admired,
Whilst niggardly our fauours we discouer.
We loue to be belou'd, yet scorne the Louer.
Yet would to God my foot had neuer mou'd
From country safetie, from the fieldes of rest:
To know the danger to be highly lou'd,
And liue in pompe to braue among the best,
Happy for me, better had I beene blest,
If I vnluckily had neuer straide,
But liu'd at home a happy country maide,
Whose vnaffected innocencie thinks
No guilefull fraude, as doth the Courtly liuer:
She's deck [...] with truth, the Riuer where she drinks
Doth serue her for her glasse, her councell giuer:
She loues sincerely, and is loued euer.
Her daies are peace, and so she ends her breath.
(True life that knowes not what's to die till death.)
So should I neuer haue beene registred,
In the blacke booke of the vnfortunate:
Nor had my name enrold with Maids misled,
Which bought their pleasures at so hie a rate.
Nor had I taught (through my vnhappy fate,)
This lesson (which my selfe learnt with expence)
How most it hurts that most delights the sence:
Shame follows sinne, disgrace is duly giuen;
Impiety will out, neuer so closely done;
No walls can hide vs from the eye of heauen,
For shame must end what wickednes begun;
Forth breakes reproch when we least think thereon,
And this is euer proper vnto Courts,
That nothing can be done, but fame reports.
Fame doth explore what lies most secret hidden,
Entring the closet of the Pallace dweller:
Abroad reuealing what is most forbidden:
Of t [...]uth and falshod both an equall teller.
Tis not a guard can serue for to expell her.
The sword of iustice cannot cut her wings,
Nor stop her mouth from vtt'ring secret thinges.
And this our stealth she could not long conceale,
From her whom such a forfeit most concerned:
The wronged Queene, who could so closely deale,
That she the whole of all our practise learned,
And watcht a time when least it was descerned,
In absence of the King, to wreake her wrong,
With such reuenge as she desired long.
The Laberinth she entred by that threed.
That seru'd a conduct to my absent Lord,
Lest there by chance, reseru'd for such a deed,
Where she surp [...]iz'd me whom she so abhord.
Enrag'd with madnes, scarce she speakes a word,
But flies with eager fury to my face,
Offring me most vnwomanly disgrace.
Looke how a Tygresse that hath lost her whelpe,
Runnes fiercely raging through the woods astray:
And seeing her selfe depriu'd of hope or helpe,
Doth furiously assault what's in her way,
To satisfie her wrath, (not for a pray;)
So fell she on me in outragious wise,
As could Disdaine and Iealousie deuise.
And after all her vile reproches vsde,
She forc'd me [...]ake the poison shee had brought,
To end the life that had her so abusde,
And free her feares, and ease her iealous thought.
No cruelty her wrath would leaue vnwrought,
No spitefull act that to Reuenge is common;
No beast being fiercer then a iealous woman.
Here take (saith she) thou impudent vncleane,
Base gracelesse strumpet, take this next your heart;
Your loue-sicke heart, that ouer charg'd hath beene
With Pleasures surfeit, must be purg'd with Arte.
This potion hath a power that will conuart
To naught, those humors that oppresse you so.
And (Gerle) Ile see you take it ere I go.
What stand you now amaz'd retire you backe?
Tremble you (minion?) come dispatch with speed:
There is no helpe, your Champion now you lack.
And all these teares you shed will nothing steed:
Those daynty fingers needs must do the deed.
Take it or I will drench you els by force,
And trifle not, left that I vse you worse.
Hauing this bloody doome from hellish breath,
My wofull eyes on euery side I cast:
Rigor about me, in my hand my death,
Presenting me the horror of my last:
All hope of pitty and of comfort past.
No meanes, no power, no forces to contend,
My trembling handes must giue my selfe my end.
Those hands that beauties ministers had been,
They must giue death that me adorn'd of late,
That mouth that newly gaue consent to sin,
Must now receiue destruction in thereat,
That body which my lust did violate,
Must sacrifice it selfe t'appease the wrong.
(So short is pleasure glory lasts not long.)
And she no sooner saw I had it taken,
But foorth she rushes, (proud with victory,)
And leaues m'alone, of all the world forsaken,
Except of Death, which she had left with me.
(Death and my selfe alone togither be.)
To whom she did her full reuenge refer.
Oh poore weake conquest both for him and her.
Then straight my conscience summons vp my sinne,
T'appeare before me, in a hidious [...]ace;
Now doth the terrour of my soule beginne,
When eu'ry corner of that hatefull place
Dictates mine error, and reueals disgrace;
Whilst I remaine opprest in euery part,
Deoth in my body, horror at my hart.
Downe on my bed my loathsome selfe I cast,
The bed that likewise giues in euidence
Against my soule, and tels I was vnchast,
Tels I was wanton, tels I followed sence,
And therefore cast, by guilt of mine offence.
Must heere the right of heauen needes satisfie,
And where I wanton lay, must wretched die.
Heere I began to waile my hard mishap,
My suddaine, strange vnlookt for misery.
Accusing them that did my youth intrap,
To giue me such a fall of infamy.
And poore distressed Rosamond. (said I,)
Is this thy glory got, to die forlorne
In Dezarts, where no eare can heare thee mourn [...]
Nor any eye of pitty to behold
The wofull end of thy sad tragedy;
But that thy wrongs vnseene, thy tale vntold,
Must heere in secret silence buried lie.
And with thee, thine excuse togither die.
Thy sin eeueal'd, but thy repentance hid,
Thy shame aliue, but dead what thy death did.
Yet breath out to these walls the breath of mone,
Tell th'aire thy plaints, since men thou canst not tell.
And though thou perish desolate alone,
Tell yet thy selfe, what thy selfe knowes too well:
V [...]ter thy griefe where with thy soule doth swell.
And let thy heart pitty thy hearts remorse.
And be thy selfe the mourner and the corse.
Condole thee here, clad all in blacke dispaire,
With silence onely, and a dying bed;
Thou that of late, so flourishing, so faire,
Didst glorious liue, admir'd and honoured:
And now from friends, from succor hither led,
Art made a spoyle to lust, to wrath, to death,
And in disgrace, forc'd heere to yeeld thy breath.
Did Nature (for this good) ingeniate,
To shew in thee the glory of her best;
Framing thine eie the starre of thy ill fate.
Making thy face the foe to spoile the rest?
O Beauty, thou an enemie profest
To Chastity and vs that loue thee most,
Without theo how w'are loath'd, and with thee lost?
You, you that prowde with liberty and beautie,
(And well may you be proude that you be so,)
Glitter in Court, lou'd and obseru'd of duetie:
Would God I might to you but ere I goe
Speake what I feele [...] to warne you by my woe,
To keepe your feete in cleanly paths of shame,
That no inticing may diuert the same.
See'ng how against your tender weaknes still,
The strength of wit, of gold, and all is bent:
And all th'assaults that euer might or skill,
Can giue against a chaste and cleane intent:
Ah let not greatnesse worke you to consent.
The spot is foule, though by a Monarch made,
Kings cannot priuiledge what God forbade.
Locke vp therefore the treasure of your loue,
Vnder the surest keyes of feare and shame:
And let no powers haue powre chaste thoughts to moue
To make a lawlesse entry on your fame.
Open to those the comfort of your flame,
Whose equall loue shall march with equall pace,
In those pure wayes that leade to no disgrace.
For see how many discontented beds,
Our owne aspiring, or our Parents pride
Haue caus'd, whilst that ambition vainely weds
Wealth and not loue, honour and nought beside:
Whilst married but to titles, we abide
As wedded widowes, wanting what we haue,
When shadowes cannot giue vs what we craue.
Or whilst we spend the freshest of our time,
The sweet of youth in plotting in the ayre;
Alas how oft we fall, hoping to clime;
Or wither as vnprofitably faire,
Whilst those decayes which are without repaire,
Make vs neglected, scorned and reprou'd.
(And O what are we, if we be not lou'd?)
Fasten therefore vpon occasions fit,
Lest this, or that, or like disgrace as mine,
Do ouer-take your youth to ruine it,
And cloude with infamie your beauties shine:
Seeing how many seeke to vndermine
The treasurie that's vnpossest of any:
And hard tis kept that is desir'd of many.
And flie (O flie) these Bed-brokers vncleane,
(The monsters of our sexe, that make a pray
Of their owne kinde, by an vnkindely meane;
And euen (like Vipers) eating out a way
Through th'wombe of their own shame, accursed they
Liue by the death of Fame, the gaine of sin,
The filth of lust, vncleannesse wallowes in.
As if t'were not enough that we, (poore we)
Haue weakenesse, beautie, golde, and men our foes,
But we must haue some of our selues to be
Traitors vnto our selues, to ioyne with those?
Such as our feeble forces doe disclose,
And still betray our cause, our shame our youth,
To lust, to folly, and to mens vntruth?
Hatefull confounders both of blood and lawes,
Vilde Oraters of shame, that pleade delight:
Vngracious Agents in a wicked cause,
Factors for darkenesse, messengers of night,
Serpents of guile, diuels, that do inuire
The wanton taste of that forbidden tree,
Whose fruit once pluckt, will shew how foule we be.
You in the habite of a graue aspect,
(In credit by the trust of yeares, (can shoe
The cunning wayes of lust, and can direct
The faire and wily wantons how they goe,
Hauing (youth lothsome selues) your youth spent so.
And in vncleannes euer haue beene fed,
By the reuenue of a wanton bed.
By you, haue beene the innocent betraid,
The blushing fearefull, boldned vnto sin,
The wife made subtile, subtile made the maide,
The husband scorn'd, dishonoured the kin:
Parents disgrac'd, children infamous been.
Confus'd our race, and falsi-fied our blood,
Whilst fathers sonnes possesse wrong Fathers good.
This, and much more, I would haue vttred then,
A testament to be recorded still,
Sign'd with my blood, subscrib'd with Conscience pen,
To warne the faire and beautifull from ill.
Though I could wish (by th'example of my will,)
I had not left this note vnto the faire,
But dyde intestate to haue had no heire.
But now, the poyson spread through all my vaines,
Gan dispossesse my liuing sences quite:
And nought respecting death, (the last of paines,)
Plac'd his pale colours, (th'ensigne of his might,)
Vpon his new-got spoile before his right;
Thence chac'd my soule, setting my day ere noone,
When I least thought my ioyes could end so soone.
And as conuaid t'vntimely funerals,
My scarce cold corse not suffred longer stay,
Behold, the King (by chance) returning, fals
T'incounter with the same vpon the way,
As he repair'd to see his deerest ioy.
Not thinking such a meeting could haue beene,
To see his Loue, and seeing beene vnseene,
Iudge those whom chāce depriues of sweetest treasure,
What tis to lose a thing we hold so deere:
The best delight, wherein our soule takes pleasure,
The sweet of life, that penetrates so neere.
What passions feeles that hart, inforc'd to beare
The deepe impression of so strange a sight,
That ouerwhelmes vs, or confounds vs quite?
Amaz'd he stands, nor voice nor body steares,
Words had no passage, teares no issue found,
For sorrow shut vp words, wrath kept in teares,
Confus'd affects each other do confound:
Oppress'd with griefe, his passions had no bound.
Striuing to tell his woes, words would not come;
For light cares speak, when mighty griefs are dombe.
At length extreamity breakes out a way,
Through which th'imprisned voice with tears attēded,
Wailes out a sound that sorrows do bewray,
With armes a-crosse, and eies to heauen bended,
Vaporing our sighes that to the skies ascended.
Sighes (the poore ease calamity affoords,)
Which serue for speech when sorow wanteth words.
O heauens) quoth he,) why do mine eies behold
The hatefull raies of this vnhappy sunne?
Why haue I light to see my sinnes contrould,
With blood of mine own shame thus vildly done?
How can my sight endure to looke thereon?
Why doth not blacke eternall darknesse hide,
That from mine eyes, my hart cannot abide?
What saw my life, wherein my soule might ioy,
What had my dayes, whom troubles still afflicted,
But onely this, to counterpoize annoy?
This ioy, this hope, which Death hath interdicted;
This sweet, whose losse hath all distresse inflicted:
This, that did season all my sowre of life,
Vext still at home with broiles, abrode in strife:
Vext still at home with broiles, abroade in strife,
Dissention in my blood, iarres in my bed:
Distrust at boord, suspecting still my life,
Spending the night in horror, dayes in dread:
(Such life hath Tyrants, and this life I led.)
These miseries go mask'd in glittering showes,
Which wise men see, the vulgar littles knows.
Thus as these passions doe him ouerwhelme,
He drawes him neere my body to behold it.
And as the Vine married vnto the Elme
With strict imbraces, so doth he infold it.
And as he in his carefull armes doth hold it,
Viewing the face that now euen death commends,
On sencelesse lippes, millions of kisses spends.
Pitt [...]full mouth (saith he) that liuing gauest
The sweetest comfort that my soule could wish:
O be it lawfull now, that dead thou hauest,
This sorrowing farewell of a dying kisle.
And you faire eyes, containers of my blisse,
Motiues of loue, borne to be matched neuer,
Entomb'd in your sweet circles sleepe for euer.
Ah how me thinkes I see Death dallying seekes,
To entertaine it selfe in Loues sweet place:
Decayed Roses of discoloured cheekes,
Doe yet retaine deerenotes of former grace:
And vgly Death sits faire within her face;
Sweete remnants resting of vermillian red,
That Death it selfe doubts whether she be dead.
Wonder of beauty, oh receiue these plaints,
These obsequies, the last that I shall make thee:
For loe, my soule that now already faints,
(That lou'd thee liuing, dead will not forsake thee,)
Hastens her speedy course to ouer-take thee.
I [...]e meete my death, and free my selfe thereby,
For (ah) what can he doe that cannot die?
Yet ere I die, thus much my soule doth vow,
Reuenge shall sweeten death with ease of minde:
And I will cause posterity shall know,
How fa [...]e thou wert aboue all woman kinde,
And after-ages monuments shall finde
Shewing thy beauties title, no [...] thy name,
Rose of the world that sweetned so the same.
This said, though more desirous yet to say,
(For sorrow is vnwilling to giue ouer.)
He doth represse what griefe would else bewray,
Least he too much his passions should discouer.
And yet respect scarce bridles such a Louer.
So farre transported that he knew not whither,
For Loue and Maiesty dwell ill together,
Then were my funerals not long deferred.
But done with all the rites pompe could deuise,
At Godstow, where my body was interred.
And richly tomb'd in honourable wise,
Where yet as now scarce any note descries
Vnto these times, the memory of mee,
Marble and Brasse so little lasting be.
For those walls which the credulous [...]euout,
And apt-beleeuing ignorant did found;
With willing zeale, that neuer call'd in doubt,
That Time their works should euer so confound,
Lye like confused heapes as vnder ground.
And what their ignorance esteem'd so holy [...]
Our wiser ages do account as follie.
And were it not thy fauourable lines
Re-edified the wracke of my decaies,
And that thy accents willingly assignes
Some farther date, and giue meelonger dayes,
Few in this age had knowne my Beautyes praise.
But thus renew'd, my fame redeemes some time,
Till other ages shall neglect thy rime.
Then when Confusion in her course shall bri [...]g
Sad desolation on the times to come:
When mirthlesse Thames shall haue no Swanne to sing,
All musicke silent, & the Muses dombe:
And yet euen then it must be knowne to some,
That once they flourisht, though not cherisht so,
And Thames had Swannes aswell as euer Po,
But heere an end, I may no longer stay.
I must returne t'attend at Stygian flood:
Yet ere I goe, this one word more I pray.
Tell Delia, now her sight may do me good,
And will her note the frailty of our blood.
And if I passe vnto th [...]se happy bankes.
Then she must haue her praise, thy pen her thankes.
So vanquisht she, and left me to returne
To prosecute the tenor of my woes:
Eternall matter for my Muse to mourne,
But (yet) the world hath heard too much of those,
My youth such errors must no more disclose.
Ile hide the rest, and grieue for what hath beene,
Who made me knowne must make me liue vnsee [...]
FINIS.
An Ode.
NOW each creature ioyes the other,
passing happy dayes and howers,
One Bird reports vnto another,
in the fall of siluer showers,
Whilst the earth (our common mother)
hath her bosome deckt with flowers.
Whilst the greatest Torch of heauen,
with bright rayes warmes Floras lap,
Making nights and dayes both euen,
chearing plants with fresher sap:
My field of flowers quite bereuen,
wants refresh of better hap.
Eccho, daughter of the Aire,
(babling guest of Rocks and hils,)
Knowes the name of my fierce Faire,
and sounds the accents of my ils.
Each thing pitties my dispaire,
whilst that she her Louer kils.
Whilst that she (O cruell Maid)
doth me and my loue despise,
My liues florish is decayed,
that depended on her eyes:
But her will must be obeyed,
and well he ends for loue who dyes.
A Pastorall.
O Happie golden Age,
Not for that Riuers ranne
With streames of milke, and hunny dropt from treet,
Not that the earth did gage
Vnto the husband-man
Her voluntary frutes, free without fees:
Not for no cold did freeze,
Nor any cloud beguile,
Th'eternall flowring Spring
Wherein liu'd euery thing,
And whereon th'heauens perpetually did smile,
Not for no sh [...]p had brought
From forraine shores, or warres or wares ill sought.
But onely for that name,
That Idle name of winde:
That Idoll of deceit, that emptie sound
Call'd Honor, which became
The tyran of the minde:
And so torments our Nature without ground,
Was not yet vainly found:
Nor yet sad griefes imparts
Amidst the sweet delights
Of ioyfull amorous wights.
Nor were his hard lawes knowne to free-borne harts.
But golden lawes like these
Which Nature wrote. That's lawfull which doth please.
Then amongst flowres and springs
Making delightfull sport,
Sate Louers without conflict, without flame:
[Page]And Nimphs and shepheards sing
Mixing in wanton sort
Whisp'rings with Songs, then kisses with the same
Which from affection came:
The naked virgin then
Her Roses fresh reueales,
Which now her vayle conceales.
The tender Apples in her bosome seene,
And oft in Riuers cleere
The Louers with their Loues consorting were.
HONOR, thou first didst close
The spring of all delight:
Denying water to the amorous thirst
Thou taught'st faire eyes to lose
The glory of their light.
Restrain'd from men, and on themselues reuerst.
Thou in a Lawne didst first
These golden haires incase,
Late spred vnto the winde:
Thou mad'st loose grace vnkinde,
Gau'st bridle to their words, art to their pace.
O Honour it is thou
That mak'st that stealth, which loue doth free allow.
It is thy worke that brings
Our griefes, and torments thus:
But thou fierce Lord of Nature and of Loue,
The quallifier of Kings,
What doest thou here with vs
That are below thy power, shut from aboue?
Goe and from vs remoue,
Trouble the mighties sleepe,
[Page]Let vs neglected, base,
Liue still without thy grace,
And th'vse of th'auncient happie ages keepe,
Let's loue, this life of ours
Can make no truce with time that all deuours.
Let's loue, the sun doth set, and rise againe,
But when as our short light
Comes once to set, it makes eternall night.
FINIS.
Vlisses and the Syren.
Syren.
COme worthy Greeke, Vlisses come
Possesse these shores with me:
The windes and Seas are troublesome,
And heere we may be free.
Here may we sit, and view their toile
That trauaile in the deepe,
And ioy the day in mirth the while,
And spend the night in sleepe.
Vlis.
Faire Nimph, if fame, or honor were
To be attaynd with case
Then would I come, and rest with thee,
And leaue such toyles as these.
But here it dwels, and here must I
With danger seeke it forth,
To spend the time luxuriously
Becomes not men of worth.
Syr. Vlisses,
O be not deceiu'd
With that vnreall name:
This honour is a thing conceiu'd,
And rests on others fame.
Begotten onely to molest
Our peace, and to beguile
(The best thing of our life) our rest,
And giue vs vp to toile.
Vlis.
[Page]Delicious Nimph, suppose there were
Nor honour, nor report,
Yet manlines would scorne to weare
The time in idle sport.
For toyle doth giue a better touch,
To make vs feele our ioy;
And case findes tediousnesse as much
As labour yeelds annoy.
Syr.
Then pleasure likewise seemes the shore,
Whereto tends all your toyle,
Which you forgo to make it more,
And perish oft the while.
Who may disporte them diuersly,
Finde neuer tedious day,
And ease may haue varietie,
As well as action may.
Vlis.
But natures of the noblest frame
These toyles, and dangers please,
And they take comfort in the same,
As much as you in ease.
And with the thought of actions past
Are recreated still;
When pleasure leaues a touch at las [...],
To shew that it was ill.
Sy.
[Page]That doth opinion onely cause,
That's out of custome bred,
Which makes vs many other lawes
Then euer Nature did.
No widdowes waile for our delights,
Our sportes are without bloud,
The world we see by warlike wights.
Receiues more hurt then good.
Vlis.
But yet the state of things require
These motions of vnrest,
And these great Spirits of high desire,
Seeme borne to turne them best.
To purge the mischiefes that increase,
And all good order mar:
For oft we see a wicked peace
To be well chang'd for war.
Sy.
Well, well Vlisses then I see,
I shall not haue thee heere,
And therefore I will come to thee,
And take my fortunes there.
I must be wonne that cannot win,
Yet lost were I not wonne:
For beauty hath created bin,
T'vndoo, or be vndonne.
FINIS.
THE TRAGEDIE OF PHILOTAS.
By SAM: DANIEL.
AT LONDON Printed by G.E. for Simon Waterson and Edward Blount., 1605.
To the Prince.
TO you most hopefull Prince, not as you are
But as you may be, do I giue these lines:
That whē your iudgmēt shal ariue so far,
As t'ouerlooke th'intricate designes,
Of vncontented man: you may behold
With what incounters greatest fortunes cloze,
What dangers, what attempts, what manifold
Incumbrances, ambition vndergoes:
How hardly men digest felicity;
How to th'intemperat, to the prodigall,
To wantonesse, and vnto luxury
Many things want, but to ambition all.
And you shall find the greatest enemy
That man can haue, is his prosperity.
Here shall you see how men disguise their ends,
And playte bad courses vnder pleasing shews,
How well presumption broken wayes defends,
Which cleere-eyed iudgment gráuely doth disclose.
Here shall you see how th'easie multitude
Transported, take the party of distresse;
And onely out of passion do conclude,
Not out of iudgment; of mens practises.
How powr [...]s are thought to wrong, that wrongs debar,
And kings not held in danger, though they are.
These ancient representments of times past;
Tell vs that men haue, doo, and alwayes runne
The selfe same line of action, and do cast
Their course alike, and nothing can be donne,
(Whilst they, their ends, and nature are the same [...]
But will be wrought vpon the selfe-same frame.
This benefit, most noble Prince, doth yeeld
The sure recordes of Bookes, in which we finde
The tenure of our state, how it was held
By all our ancestors, and in what kinde
We hold the same, and likewise how in the end
This fraile possession of felicitie,
Shall to our late posteritie discend,
By the same pattent of like destinie.
In them we finde that nothiwg can accrew
To man, and his condition that is new.
And though you haue a Swannet of your owne,
Which on the bankes of Douen meditates
Sweete notes for you, and vnto your renowne
The glory of his Musique dedicates;
And in a loftie tune is set to sound
The deepe reportes of Sullein tragedies.
Yet may this l [...]st of me be likewise found,
Amongst the vowes that others sacrifize
Vnto the hope of you, that you one day,
May grace this now neglected harmonie:
Which set vnto your glorious actions may
Record the same to all posteritie.
Though I the remnant of another time.
Am neuer like to see that happinesse:
Yet for the zeale that I haue borne to rime,
And to the Muses wish that good successe
To others trauaile, that in better place,
And better comfort, they may be incheerd
Who shall deserue, and who shall haue the grace
To haue a Muse held worthy to be heard.
And know, sweete Prince, when you shall come to know,
That tis not in the powre of Kings to raise
A spirit for verse that is not borne thereto:
Nor are they borne in euery Princes dayes.
For late Elizas raigne, gaue birth to more
Then all the kings of England did before.
And it may be, the Genius of that time,
Would leaue to her the glorie in that kind;
And that the vtmost powers of English Ryme,
Should be within her peacefull raigne confinde.
For since that time, our songues could neuer thriue,
But laine as if for lorne: though in the prime
Of this new rising season, we did striue
To bring the best we could vnto the time.
And I although among the latter traine,
And least of those that sung vnto this land,
Haue borne my part, though in an humble straine,
And pleasd the gentler that did vnderstand:
And neuer had my harmlesse Pen at all
Distaind with any loose immodestie,
Nor euer noted to be toucht with gall,
To aggrauate the worst mans infamy.
[Page]But still haue donne the fairest offices
To virtue and the time, yet nought preuailes,
And all our labors are without successe,
For either fauour or our virtue failes.
And therefore since I haue out liud the date
Of former grace, acceptance, and delight,
I would my lines late-borne beyond the fate
Of her spent line, had neuer come to light.
So had I not bene tax'd for wishing well
Nor now mistaken by the censuring stage
Nor, in my fame and reputation fell.
Which I esteeme more then what all the age
Or th'earth can giue. But yeares hath don this wrong,
To make me write too much, and liue too long.
And yet I grieue for that vnfinisht frame,
Which thou deare Muse didst vow to sacrifize,
Vnto the Bed of peace, and in the same,
Designe our happinesse to memorize,
Must, as it is remaine, though as it is:
It shall to after times relate my zeale
To kings, and vnto right, to quietnesse,
And to the vnion of the common-weale.
But this may now, seeme a superfluous vow,
We haue this peace; and thou hast sung ynow
And more then wilbe heard, and then as good
As not to write, as not be vnderstood.
Sam: Dan.
THE ARGVMENT.
PHilotas the sonne of Parmenio, Plutarch in the life of Alex. was a man of great estimation among the Macedonians, and next vnto Alexander held to be the most valiant of the Greekes: patient of trauaile, exceeding bountifull, and one that loued his men and friends better then any Noble-man of the Campe: but otherwise noted of vaine-glorie and prodigallitie, in so much as his father hauing notice of his carriage, warned him to make himselfe lesse then he was, to auoide the enuie of the Campe, and the dislike of the King, who grew suspicious of him in respect of the greatnesse of his Father, [Page] and his owne popularitie, and by hauing intelligence of certaine vaunts of his vsed to Antigona a fayre Curtizan borne in the cittie of Pidna, with whome being in loue, he let fall many braue wordes, and bostes of a Soldier, to aduance his owne actions and his fathers, terming Alexander at euery worde the young man. Which speeches Antigona reuealing to a companion of hers, were at length brought to Craterus, who with the woman carryed them to Alexander, whereby Philotas lay open to all the aduantages that might worke his ouerthrow.Q. Curtius lib. 6. And in the end concealing a conspiracie (which was reueald vnto him) intended against the King, was thereby suspected to haue beene a partie in the plotte: but brought before Alexander, hee so defended himselfe, that hee obtayned his pardon for that time, suppd with the King that night, and yet the next day notwithstanding, was arraignd for the same fact, which he stoutlie denying, was afterward put to torture, and then confest his treason. And indeed Alexanders drawing a pedegree from heauen [Page] with assuming the Persian magnificence; was the cause that withdrew many the hearts of the nobilitie and people from him, and by the confession of Philotas was that, which gaue a purpose to him and his father to haue subuerted the King assoone as he had established Asia, and freed them from other feares, which being by Ephestion and Craterus, two the most especiall Councellors of Alexander grauely and prouidently discerned, was prosecuted in that manner as became their neerenesse, and dearenesse with their Lord and maister, & fitting to the safetie of the state, in the case of so great an aspirer: who no doubt, had he not beene preuented, (howsoe [...]er popularly in the Armie it might be otherwise deemed) he had turnd the course of [...]ment vpon his Father and himselfe, or else by his imbroylments made it a monster of many heads, as it afterwards pro [...]d vpon the death of Alexander. The Chorus consisting of three Graecians, (as of three estates of a Kingdome) and one Persian, representing the multitude and body of a people, who vulgarlie [Page] according to their affections carryed rather with compassion on great mens misfortunes, then with the consideration of the cause, frame their imaginations by that square, and censure what is done.
The names of the Actors.
- Philotas.
- Cebalinus.
- Chalisthenes.
- Polidamas.
- Alexander.
- Nichomachus.
- Ephestion.
- Metron.
- Craterus.
- Thais a Curtizan.
- Antigone sometimes one of the concubines of Darius.
- Attarras.
- Clitus.
- Sostratus.
- Perdiccas.
- Chorus. 3. Graecians and a Persian.
THE TRAGEDIE of PHILOTAS.
ACTVS I.
Philotas. Chalisthenes.
Philotas reading his Fathers letter.
MAke thy selfe lesse Philotas then thou art?
What meanes my father thus to write to me?
Lesse then I am: in what? how can that bee?
Must I be then set vnderneath my hart?
Shall I let go the holde I haue of grace
Gaynd with so hard aduentures of my bloud,
And suffer others mount into my place,
And from below, looke vp to where I stood?
Shall I degrade th'opinion of my worth?
By putting off imployment; as vndone
In spirit or grace: whilst other men set forth
To get that start of action I haue wonne?
As if such men as I, had any place,
To stay betwixt their ruine, and their grace.
Can any go beyond me, but they will
Goe ouer me, and trample on my state,
And make their fortune good vpon my ill,
Whilst feare hath powre to wound me worse thē hate?
Ch.
[Page]Philotas, you deceiue your selfe in this,
Your father meanes not you should yeeld in place,
But in your popular dependences:
Your entertainments, guifes, and publique grace,
That doth in iealous Kings, distaste the Peeres,
And makes you not the greater but in feares.
Phi.
Alas what popular dependences
Do I retaine? can I shake off the zeale
Of such as do out of their kindnesses
Follow my fortunes in the common-weale.
Cha.
Indeed Philotas therein you say true:
They follow do, your fortunes, and not you.
Phi.
Yea but I find their loue to me sincere.
Cha.
Euen such as to the Wolfe the Fox doth bea [...]e,
That visits him but to pertake his pray,
And seeing his hopes deceiu'd turnes to betray.
Phi.
I know they would if I in danger stood,
Runne vnto me, with hazard of their bloud.
Cha.
Yea like as men to burning houses run,
Not to lend ayde, but to be lookers on.
Phi.
But I with bountie, and with guifts haue tyde
Their harts so sure, I know, they will not slide.
Cha.
Bounty & guifts loose more then they do find,
Where many looke for good, few haue their mind:
Each thinkes he merits more then than he hath,
And so guifts laid for loue do catch men wrath.
Phi.
But many meerely out of loue attend.
Cha.
Yea, those that loue and haue no other end:
Thinke you that men can loue you when they know,
You haue them not for friendship, but for sho [...].
[Page]And as you are ingag'd in your affaires,
And haue your ends, thinke, likewise they haue theirs.
Phi.
But I do truly from my hart affect
Vertue and worth, where I do finde it set:
Besides my foes do force me in effect,
To make my partie of opinion grea [...],
And I must arme me thus against their scornes,
Men must be shodd, that go among the thornes.
Cha.
Ah good Philotas you your selfe be guile,
Tis not the way to quench the fire with oyle.
The meeke and humble Lambe with small adoo,
Sucks his owne dam, we see, and others too.
In Courtes men longest liue and keepe their rankes,
By taking iniuries, and giuing thankes.
Phi.
And is it so? then neuer are these haires,
Like to attaine that sober hew of gray,
I cannot plaster and disguise m'affaires,
In other coulours then my hart doth lay.
Nor can I patiently indure this fond
And strange proceeding of authoritie,
That hath ingrost vp all into their hand,
By idoliuing feeble maiestie.
And impiously do labour all they can,
To make the King forget he is a man.
Whilst they deuide the spoyles, and pray of powre,
And none at all respect the publique good.
Those hands that guard and get vs what is our,
The Solderie, ingag'd to vent their bloud,
In worse [...]ase seeme then Pallas old-growne Moyle,
Th' Athenians fostred at their publique cost;
[Page]For these poore soules consum'd with tedious toile
Remayne neglected, hauing done their most.
And nothing shall bring home of all these wars
But emptie age and bodies chardgd with skarres.
Ch.
Philotas, all this publique care I feare
Is but some priuat touch of your dislike.
Who seeing your owne designes not stand to square
With your desires, no others courses like.
The griefe you take things are not ordred well,
Is that you feele your selfe I feare not well.
But when your fortunes shall stand parabel
With those you enuy now: all will be well.
For you great men, I see are neuer more
Your ends attain'd the same you were before.
You with a finger can point out the staynes
Of others errors now, and now condem
The traine of state, whilst your desire remaines
without. But once got in you iumpe with them,
And interleague ye with iniquity,
And with a like neglect do temporize
And onely serue your owne commodity:
Your fortune then viewes things with other eyes.
For either greatnesse doth transforme the hart.
Int'other shapes of thoughts or certaynly
This vulgar honesty doth dwell apart
From powre, and is some priuate quallity,
Or rather those faire parts which we esteeme
In such as you, are not the same they seeme,
You double with your selues or els with vs.
And therefore now Philotas euen as good.
[Page]Timbrace the times, as swell, and do no good.
Ph.
Alas Chalisthenes you haue not layde
True leuell to my nature, but are wide
From what I ame within; all you haue sayde
Shall neuer make me of another side
Then that I am, and I do skorne to clyme
By shaking hands with this vnworthy time.
Ch.
The time, Philotas then will break thy neck.
Ph.
They dare nor, freind, my faith wil keep my neck,
My seruice to the state hath causioned
So surely for myne honor, as it shall
Make good the place my deedes haue purchased
With daunger, in the loue, and harts of all,
Ch.
Those seruices, will serue as waights to charge
And presle you vnto death, if your foot faile
neuer so little vnderneath your charge
And will be dee [...]'d, donne, for your owne auayle.
And who haue spirits to do the greatest good,
May do most hurt if they remaine not good.
Ph.
Tush. They cannot want my seruice in the state.
Ch
These times want not men to supply the state.
Ph.
I feare not whilst Parmenios forces stand.
Ch.
Water far off q [...]enches not fire neere hand.
You may be faire dispatcht, e [...]e he can heare
Or if he heard, before he could be here.
And therefore do not build vppon such sand
It will deceiue your hopes, when all is doone
For though you were the minion of the land
If you breake out, be sure you are vndonne.
When running with the current of the state,
[Page]Were you the weakest man of men aliue
And in conuentions, and in counsayle sate
And did but sleepe or nod, yet should you thriue
These mo [...]iue spirits are neuer fit to rise,
And tis a danger to be held so wise.
Ph.
What call you running with the slate; shall I
Combine with those that do abuse the slate?
Whose want of iudgment, wit and honesty,
I am ashamed to see, and seeing hate.
Ch.
Tush, tush, my Lord thinke not of vvhat were fit,
The world is gouernd more by forme, then witt.
He that will [...]ret at Lords, and at the r [...]ine,
Is but a foole, and grieues himselfe in vaine.
Cannot you great men suffer others to
Haue parte in rule, but must haue all to doo.
Now good my Lord con [...]orme you to the rest,
Let not your wings be greater then your nest.
Ph.
solus. See how these vain discoursiue Booke-men talke,
Out of those shadows of their ayerie powres,
And do not see how much they must defalke
Of their accoumpts, to make them gree with ours.
They little know to what necessities,
Our courses stand allyed, or how we are,
Ingag'd in reputation other-wise
To be our selues in our particulare.
They thinke we can command our harts to lye,
Out of their place: and still they preach to vs.
Pack-bearing Patience that base property,
And silly g [...]i [...] of th'all induring Ass.
But let them talke their fill, it is but wind,
[Page]I must sayle by the compasse of my minde,
Enters a Messenger.
My Lord, the King calls for you come my Lord away,
Ph.
Well then I know there's some new stratage [...]
In hand, to be consulted on to day.
That I am sent for with such speede, to him,
Whose youth and fortune cannot brooke delay.
But here's a Sutor standes t'impeech my hast,
I would I had gone vp the priule way:
Whereby we escape th'attending multitude,
Though I confesse, that in humanity
Tis better to deny, then to delude.
Enters Cebalinus.
My Lord Philotas I am come with news,
Of great importance that concerns vs all,
And well hath my good fortune met with you:
Who best can heare, and best discharge my care.
Ph.
Say what it is and pray-thee friend be briefe.
Ceb.
The case requires your patience good my lord,
And therefore I must craue your eare a while,
Ph.
I cannot now be long from Alexander.
Ceb.
Nor Alexander will be long with vs,
Vnles you heare, and therfore know, the newes
I bring, concernes his life; and this it is,
There is one Dymnus here within the campe:
Whose low estate, and high affections
Seeme to haue thrust him int'outragious wayes.
This man affecting one Nichomacus
A youth, my brother, whom one day h'allures
Int'a temple where being both alone,
[Page]He breakes out in this sort: Nichomacus
Sweete louely youth, ah should I not impart
To thee the deepest secrets of my hart,
My hart that hath no lock shut against thee,
Would let it out some-times vnwares of me.
But as it issues from my faithfull loue,
So close it vp in thine, and keepe it fast:
Sweare to be secret deere Nichomacus.
Sweare by the sacred God-head of this place
To keepe my councell, and I will reueale
A matter of the greatest consequence
That euer man imparted to his friend.
Youth and desire drawne with a loue to know,
Swore to be secret, and to keepe it close
When Dymnus tells him, that within three dayes
There should b'effected a conspiracie
On Alexanders person, by his meanes
And diuers more of the Nobillitie.
To free their labours and redeeme them home,
Which when Nichomacus my brother heard:
Is this your tale saith he? O God forbid
Mine oath should tie my tongue to keepe in this.
This ouglie sinne of treason, which to tell
Mine oath compells me, faith against my faith
Must not be kept. My falshood here is truth
And I must tell [...] friend or friend not, Il [...] tell.
Dymnus amaz'd hearing beyond conceipt
The self-willd youth vow to reueale their plot:
Stands staring on him, drawing back his breath,
Or els his breath confounded with his thoughts
[Page]Bufied with death and horror, could not worke,
Not hauing leasure now, to thinke what was
But what would be, his feares were runne before,
And at misfortune ere she came to him.
At length yet, when his reason had reduc'd
His flying thoughts back to some certaine stand,
Perceiuing yet some distance was betwixt
Death and his feares which gaue him time to worke,
With his returning spirits he drew his sword,
Puts it t'his owne then to my brothers throate,
Then layes it downe, thē wrings his hands, thē kneeles.
Then stedfast lookes, then takes him in his armes,
Weepes on his neck, no word, but O wilt thou?
Wilt thou, be the destruction of vs all?
And finding no relenting in the youth.
His milerie grew furiou [...] and againe
He takes his sworde, and sweares to sacrifice
To silence and their cause, his dearest bloud.
The boy amaz'd, seeing no other way,
Was faine to vow, and promise secrecie;
And as if wonne t'allow and take that part,
Prayes him to tell, who were his complices.
Which, though perplext with grief for what was done,
Yet thinking now t'haue gained him to his side,
Dymnus replyes: no wor [...]e then Loceus,
Demetrius of the priuie Chamber, and
Nicanor, Amyntas, and Archelopis,
Drocenus, Aphebetus, Leuculaus,
Shall be th'associats of Nichomacus.
This when my brother once had vnderstood,
[Page]And after much a do had got away
He comes and [...]els me all the whole discourse:
Which here I haue related vnto you,
And here will I attend t'auouch the same,
Or bring my brother to confirme as much.
Whome now I leaft behinde, least the conspirators
Seeing him here vnusing to this place,
Suspecting [...]'b'appeachd, might shifts away.
Phil.
Well fellow, I haue heard thy strange report,
And will finde time t'acquaint the king therewith,
SCENA SECVNDA.
Antigona and Thais.
WHat can a free estate afford me more
Then my incaptiu'd fortune doth allow?
Was I beloud, inrich'd, and grac'd before?
Am I not lou'd, inrich'd, and graced now?
Tha.
Yea, but before thou wert a kings delight.
Ant.
I might be his although he was not mine.
Tha.
His greatnes made thee greater in mens sight.
Ant.
More great perhapps without, but not within:
My loue was then aboue mee, I am now
Aboue my loue. Darius then had thousands more
Philotas hath but me as I do know.
Nor none els will he haue, and so he swore.
Tha.
Nay then you may belieue him, if he swore.
Alas poore soule, she neuer came to know
Her liberty, nor louers periuries.
Ant.
Stand I not better with a meaner loue,
[Page]That is alone to mee, then with these powres,
Who out of all proportion must b'aboue
And haue vs theirs, but they will not be ours.
And Thais although thou be a Grecian,
And I a Persian, do not envie mee.
That I imbrace the only gallant man
Persia, or Greece or all the world can see.
Thou, who art intertain'd and grac'd by all
The flowre of honour els, do not dispise.
That vnto mee poore captiue should befall
So great a grace in such a worthies eyes.
Tha, Antigona,
I enuie not thy loue,
But thinks thee blest t'inioy him in that sort.
But tell me truly didst thou euer proue
Whether he lou'd in earnest or in sporte
Ant. Thais;
let m'a little glory in my grace,
Out of the passion of the ioy I feele
And tell the'a secret, but in any case,
As y'are a woman do not it reueile.
One day as I was fitting all alone,
In comes Philotas from a victory
All bloud and dust, yet iolly hauing wenne
The glory of the day most gallantly.
And warm'd with honor of his good Successe.
Relates to mee the daungers he was in:
Whereat I wondring, blam'd his forwardnes.
Faith wench, saies he, thus must we fight, toyle, win.
To make that yong-man proud, thus is he borne:
Vpon the winges of our disartes, our bloud
Setts him aboue himselfe and makes him skorne,
[Page]His owne, his country, and the Authors of his good.
My father was the first that out from Greece
Shewd him the way of Asia, set him on
And by his proiect raisd the greatest peece
Of this proud worke which now he treads vpon.
Parmenio without Alexander much hath wrought,
Without Parmenio, Alexander hath done nought.
But let him vse his fortune whilst he may,
Times haue their chaunge, we must not still be lead.
And sweet Antigona thou mayst one day
Yet, blesse the howre t'haue knowne Philotas bed.
Wherewith he sweetly kist me, and now deeme,
If that so great, so wise, so rare a man,
Would if he held me not in deare esteeme
Haue vttred this t'a captiue Persian.
But Thais I may no longer stay, for feare
My lord returne, and finde me not within,
Whose eyes yet neuer saw me any where
But in his chamber where I should haue bene.
And therefore Thais farewell.
Th.
Fare well Antigona.
Now haue I that which I desired long
Layd in my lap by this fond woman here,
And meanes t'auenge me of a secret wrong
That doth concerne my reputation nere.
This gallant man, whom this foole in this wise
Vaunts to be hers, I must confesse t'haue lou'd
And vs'd all th'ingins of these conquering eyes
Affections in his hy-built hart t'haue mou'd
Yet neuer could: for what my labour seekes
[Page]I see is lost vppon vaine ignorance.
Whilst he that is the glory of the Greekes
Virtues vpholder, honours countenance,
Out of this garnish of his worthy parts
Is falne vpon this foolish Persian,
To whom his secretes grauely he imparts,
Which she as wisely keepe and gouerne can:
Tis strange to see the humour of these men,
These great aspiring spirits that should be wise
We women shall know all; for now and then
Out of the humour of their iollities
The smoake of their ambition must haue vent,
And out it comes what rackes should not reuaile,
For this her humour hath so much of wind,
That it will burst it selfe if too close pent,
And none more fit then vs their wisedomes find,
Who will for loue or want of wit conceale.
For being the nature of great spirits, to loue
To be, where they may be most eminent,
And rating of themselues so far aboue
Vs in conceipt with whom they do frequent,
Imagin how we wonder and esteeme
AIl that they doo or say, which makes them striue
To make our admiration more extreame:
Which they suppose they cannot, lesse they giue
Notice of their extreame and highest thoughts.
And then th'opinion that we loue them too,
Begers a confidence of secrecie,
Whereby what euer they intend to doo,
We shall be sure to know it presently.
[Page]But faith, I scorne that such a one as shee,
A silly witted wench, should haue this grace
To be preferr'd and honor'd before me,
Hauing but onely beautie, and a face.
I that was euer courted by the Great
And gallanist Peeres and Princes of the East,
Whom Alexander in the greatest state
The earth did euer see him, made his guest.
There where this tongue obtained for her merit
Eternitie of fame: there where these hands
Did write in fire the glorie of my spirit,
And set a trophey that for euer stands.
Thaeïs Action with the Grecian acts shalbe
Inregistred alike. Thaeis she that fir'd
The stareliest Pallace th'earth did euer see,
Darius house that to the clouds aspir'd,
She is put back behind Antigona,
But soone Philotas shall his error see,
Who thinkes that beautie best, mens passions fi [...]s,
For that they vse our bodies, not our wittes:
And vnto Craterus will I presently,
And him acquaint with all this whose discourse,
Who I am sure will take it well of vs,
For these great minions, who with enuious eye
Looke on each others greatnesse, will be glad,
In such a case of this importancie,
To haue th'aduantage that may here be had.
CHORVS.
[Page]WE as the Chorus of the vulgar [...] stand
Spectators here, to see these great men play
Their parts both of obedience and command,
And censure all they doo, and all they say.
For though we be esteemd but ignorant,
Yet are we capable of truth, and know
Where they do well, and where their actions want
The grace that makes them proue the best in show.
And though we know not, what they do within,
Where they attire, their misteries of state:
Yet know we by th'euents, what plottes haue beene,
And how they all without do personate.
We see who well a meaner part became,
Faile in a greater and disgrace the same.
We see some worthy of aduancement deem'd,
Saue when they haue it: some againe haue got
Good reputation, and beene well esteem'd
In place of greatnesse, which before were not.
We see affliction act a better scene,
Then prosperous fortune which hath marr [...]d it cleane.
We see that all which we haue praisd in some,
Haue onely beene their fortune, not desart:
Some warre haue grac'd, whom peace doth ill become:
And lustfull ease hath blemisht all their part.
Wee see Philotas acts his goodnesse ill,
And makes his passions to report of him
[Page]Worse then he is: and we doo feare he will
Bring his free nature to b'intrapt by them.
For sure there is some ingin closely laide
Against his grace and greatnesse with the King:
And that vnlesse his humors proue more staide,
We soone shall see his vtter ruining.
And his affliction, our compassion drawes,
Which still lookes on mens fortunes, not the cause,
ACTVS 2.
SCENA 1.
Alexander, Ephestion, Craterus.
Alexander.
EPhestion, thou doost Alexander loue,
Craterus thou the King: yet both you meete
In one selfe point of loyaltie and loue,
And both I finde like carefull, like discreet.
Therefore my faithfuls [...] Councellours to you
I must a weightie accident impart,
Which lies so heauie, as I tell you true
I finde the burthen much t'oppresse my hart.
Ingratitude and stubborne carriage,
In one of whom my loue deseru'd respect,
Is that which moues my passion into rage,
And is a thing, I ought not to neglect.
You see how I Philotas raised haue
Aboue his ranck, his Peeres, beyond his terme:
You see the place, the offices I gaue,
[Page]As th'earnest of my loue to binde his firme.
But all, he deeming rather his desartes,
Then the effects of my grace any way,
Begins to play most peremptorie parts,
As fitter to controule then to obay.
And I haue bene inform'd, he fosters too,
The faction of that home-bent cowardize,
That would run back from glory, and vndoo
All the whole wonder of our enterprize,
And one day to our selfe presumes to write,
(Seeming ourstile and title to obrayd,
Which th'oracles themselues held requisite
And which not I, but men on me haue laid)
And said he pittied those who vnder him should liue.
Who held himselfe the sonne of Iupiter.
Alas good man, as though what breath could giue,
Could make mine owne thoughts other then they are.
I that am Arbiter betwixt my hart,
And theyr opinion, know how it stands within,
And find that my infirmities take part,
Of that same frailty, other men liue in.
And yet what if I were disposd to winke,
At th'intertaind opinion spred so far.
And rather was content the world should thinke.
Vs other then we are, then what we are.
In doing which, I know I am not gone
Beyond example, seeing that Maiestie
Needs all the propps of admiration
That may be got to beare it vp on hye.
And much more mine, which but eu'n now begun
[Page]By miracles of fortune, and our worth,
Needes all the complements to rest vpon:
That reu'rence and opinion can bring forth,
Which this wise man conceiues not, and yet takes:
Vpon him to instruct vs what to do.
But these are but the florishes he makes,
Of greater malice he is bent vnto:
For sure me thinkes I view within his face,
The mapp of chaunge and inncuacion:
I see his pride contented with no place,
Vnles it be the throne I sit vpon.
Eph
Had I not heard this from your sacred tongue,
Deare soueraigne, I would neuer haue beleeued
Philotas folly would haue done that wrong
T'his owne worth, and th'honors he receiued,
And yet me thought of late his carriage.
In such exceeding pompe and galiantry,
And such a world of followers; did presage
That he affected popularity.
Especially since for his seruice done.
He was adiudgd to haue the second place
In honor with Antigonus, which wonne,
To some th'opinion to be high in grace.
Then this last action leading the right winge,
And th'ouerthrow he gaue, might happ inlarge
Th'opinion of himselfe considering,
Th'especiall grace and honor of his charge.
Whereby perhaps in rating his owne worth,
His pride might vnder-ualew that great grace:
From whence it grew, and that which put him forth.
[Page]And made his fortune suting to the place.
But yet I thinke he is not so vnwise,
Although his fortune, youth and iollity.
Makes him thus mad, as he will enterprize
Ought against course, his faith, and loyalty.
And therefore if your grace did but withdraw,
Those beames of fauour which doo daze his w [...]ts:
He would be soone reduc'd t'his rank of awe.
And know himselfe, and beare bim as befits.
Alex.
With-draw our grace, and how can that be donne.
Without some sulliuation to insue.
Can he be safe brought in being so sar gone,
I hold it not. Say Craterus what thinke you.
Cra.
Soueraigne. I know the man, I find his spirit,
And malice shall not make me I protest.
Speake other then I know his pride doth merit,
And what I speake is for your interest.
Which long ere this I would haue vttered,
But that I feard your maiesty would take,
That from some priuate g [...]idg it rather bred,
Then out of care for your dea [...]e sisters sake.
Or rather that I sought to crosse your grace,
Or to confine your fauour within boundes,
And finding him to hold so high a place:
In that deuine conceipt which ours confounds,
I thought the safest way to let it rest,
In hope that time some passage open would:
To let in those cleere lookes into that brest
That doth but malice and confusion hold.
And now I see you haue discernd the man,
[Page]Whome I protest I hold most dangerous.
And that you ought with all the speed you can
Worke to represse a spirit so mutinou [...]:
For eu'n already he is swolne so high,
That his affections ouer-flowe the brime
Of his owne powres, not able to deny
Passage vnto the thoughts that gouerne him.
For but euen now I heard a strange report
Of speeches he should vse t'his Curtizan:
Vaunting what he had done, and in what sort,
He labourd to aduance that proud yong man.
(So terming of your sacred maiesty)
With other such extrauagant discourse:
Whereof we shall attaine more certainty,
I doubt not shortly and discry his course,
Meane while about your person I aduise,
Your grace should [...] all [...] more sufficient guard:
And on his actions set such wary eyes,
As may thereof take speciall good regarde.
And note what p [...]rson [...] chiefly he frequents:
And who to him haue the most free accesse,
How he bestowes his time, where he presents,
The large reuenue of his bounteousnesse.
And for his wench that lyes betwixt his armes.
And knowes his hare I will about with her,
She shalbe wrought t'apply her vsuall charmes:
And I will make her my discouerer.
Alex. This counsell Craterus we do well allow,
And giue thee many thankes for thy great care.
But yet we must beare faire, lest he should know,
[Page]That we suspect what his affections are,
For that you see he holdes a side of powre:
which might perhapps call vp some mutinie.
His father old Parmenio at this howre,
Rules Medea with no lesser powres then I.
Himselfe you see gallantly followed:
Holds next to vs a speciall gouerment:
Canus that with his Sister married,
Hath vnder him againe comandement:
Amintas and Symanus his deare friends
With both their honorable offices.
And then the priuate traine that on them tendes,
With all perticuler dependences.
Are motiues to aduice vs how to deale.
Crat. Your grace saies true, but yet these cloudes of smooke
Vanish before the sun of that respect
Whereon mens long-inurd affections looke
With such a natiue zeale, and so affect:
As that the vaine and shallow practisies,
Of no such giddy traytor (if the thing,
Be tooke in time with due aduisednesse:
Shall the least shew of any fealing bring.
Alex, Well then to thee deare Craterus I refer,
Th'especiall care of this great busines.
SCENA 2.
Philotas, Ceballinus, Ser [...]uis.
Ceb.
MY Lord. I here haue long attendance made
Expecting to be calld t'auouch my newes [...]
Ph.
In troth my friend I haue not found the king [...]
At any leasure yet to heare the same.
Ceb.
No not at leasure to preuent his death?
And is the matter of no more import?
Ile try another. Yet me thinks such men,
As are the eyes and eares of princes, should,
Not weigh so light such an intelligence
Ser.
My lord the summe you willed me to giue,
The captaine that did visit you to day:
To tell you plaine your cosfers yeald it not,
Phi.
How, if they yeald it not, haue I not then,
Apparell, plate iewells; why sel them:
[...]utarch [...] the life [...]f Alexan [...]er.
And go your way dispatch and giue it him.
Me thinks I find the king much chaungd of late,
And vnto me his graces not so great.
Although they seeme in show all of one rate,
Yet by the touch I find them counterfe [...]
For when I speake, although I haue his eare
Yet do I see his mind is other where.
And when he speakes to me I see he striues,
To giue a coulor vnto what is not,
For he must thinke that we whose states, whose liues.
Depend vp [...]n his grace l [...]arne not by rote,
[Page]T'obserue his actions, and to know his trym,
And though indeede princes be manifold,
Yet haue they still such eies to waite on them.
As are to piercing that they can beholde.
And penetrate the inwards of the hart,
That no deuice can set so close a dore,
Betwixt their shewes and thoughtes, but that their art:
Of shadowing it, makes it appeare the more.
But many malicing my state of grace,
I know doo worke, with all the powers they haue
Vpon that easie nature, to displace
My fortunes, and my actions to depraue:
And though I know they seeke t'inclose him in,
And faine would lock him vp and chamber him:
Yet will I neuer stoope and seeke to win
My way by them, that came not in by them.
And skorne to stand on any other feet
Then these of mine owne worth; and what my plaine
And open actions cannot fairely get
Basenes and soothing them shall neuer gaine.
And yet, I know my presence and accesse,
Cleers all these mists which they haue raisd before:
Though with my back streight turnes that happinesse.
And they againe blow vp as much or more;
Thus do we role the stone of our owne toyle,
And men suppose our hell, a heauen the while.
SCENA 3.
Craterus. Antigona.
ANtigona, there is no remedie,
You needs must iustifie the speech you held,
With Thais, who will your conf'rence verifie,
And therefore now it cannot be conceald.
Anti.
O my good Lord I pray you vrge me not,
Thais onely of a cunning enuious w [...],
Scorning a stranger should haue such alott,
Hath out of her inuention forged it.
Cra.
Why then shall rackes and tortures force thee show,
Both this and other matters which we know.
Thinke therefore if t'were not a wiser part,
T'accept of rest, rewards, pre [...]erment, grace,
And being perhaps so beautious as thou art,
Of fayre election for a neerer place,
To tell the truth, then to be obstinate,
And fall with the misfortune of a man [...]
Who in his dangerous and concusled state,
No good to thee but ruine render can [...]
Resolue thee of this choyce, and let me know
Thy minde at full, at my returning back.
Ant.
What shall I doo, shall I betray my loue,
Or die disgrac'd? what do I make a doubt
Betray my loue? O heauenly powres aboue
Forbid that such a thought should issue out
Of this confused brest: nay rather first
Let tortures, death, and horror do their worst.
[Page]But out alas this inconsidrate tongue,
Without my hart [...] consent and priuitie,
Hath done already this vnwilling wrong,
And now it is no wisdome to deny.
No wisdome to deny? yes, yes, that tongue
That thus hath beene the [...]avtor to my hart,
Shall either powrefully redeeme that wrong,
Or neuer more shall words of breath impart,
Yet what can my den [...]all profit him,
Whom they perhaps whether I tell or not,
Are purpos'd vpon matters knowne to them,
To [...]uinate on some discouered plot.
Let them do what they will. Let not thy hart
Seeme to be accessarie in a thought,
To giue the leaft aduantage of thy part,
To haue a part of shame in what is wrought.
O this were well, if that my dangers could
Redeeme his perill, and his grace restore,
For which, I vow, my life I render would,
If this poore life could satisfie therefore.
But tis not for thy honour to forsake
Thy loue for death, that lou'd thee in this sort,
Alas what notice will the world take
Of such respects in women of my sort.
This act may yet put on so fay [...]e a cote
Vpon my foule profession, as it may
Not blush t'appeare with those of cleanest note,
And haue as hye a place with fame as they.
What do I talke of fame? do I not see
This faction of my flesh, my feares, my youth
[Page]Already entred and haue bent at me,
The ioyes of life to batter downe my truth.
O my subdued thought [...] what haue you done.
To let in feare and falshood, to my hart,
Whom though they haue surprizd they haue not won,
For still my loue shall hold the dearest part.
Crat.
Antigona what are you yet resolud.
Ant.
Resolu'd my Lord t'indure all misery.
Crat.
And so be sure you shall if that b'your choice.
Ant
What will you haue me doo my Lord, I am
Content to say what you will haue me say.
Crat.
Then come go with me to Alexander.
CHORVS.
HOw dost thou weare, and weary out thy dayes,
Restles ambition neuer at an end:
Whose trauails no her culean pillor stayes [...]
But still beyond thy rest thy labors tend.
Aboue good fortune, thou thy hopes dost raise.
Still climing and yet neuer canst ascend:
For when thou hast attaind vnto the top,
Of thy desires thou hast not yet got vp.
That heigh of fortune either is contrould.
By some more powrefull ouerlooking eie:
(That doth the fulnesse of thy grace withhold)
Or counter-checkt with some concurrencie:
That it doth cost far more adoo to hold,
[Page]The higth attaind, then was to get so hie.
Where stand thou canst not, but with carefull toyle,
Nor loose thy hold with out thy vtter spoile.
There dost thou struggle with thine owne distrust,
And others iealosies, their conterplot:
Against some vnderworking pride that must,
Supplanted be, or els thou standest not:
There wrong is paid with wrong, and he that thrust:
Downe others, comes himselfe to haue that lot.
The same concussion doth afflict his brest.
That others shooke, oppression is opprest
That either happines dwells not so hie,
Or els aboue. whereto pride cannot rise:
And that the hy'st of mans felicity,
But in the region of affliction lies:
And that we clime but vp to misery,
High fortunes are but high calamities,
It is not in that Sphere, where peace doth moue,
Rest dwels below it, happines aboue.
For in this hight of fortvne are imbred,
Those thundring fragors that affright the earth.
From thence haue all distempratures their head:
That bringes forth desolation, famine, d [...]arth,
There certaine order is disordered:
And there it is confusion hath her birth.
It is that high of fortune doth vndoo,
Both her owne quietnes and others too.
ACTVS TERTIVS.
Alex. Metron. Ceballinus. Craterus Perdiccas, Ephest,
COme, Metron say of whom hast thou receiued,
Th'intelligence of this conspiracie:
Contriud against our person, as thou sayst,
By Dymnus and some other of the Campe,
Is't not some vaine report borne without cause,
That enuie or imagination drawes
From priuate ends to breed a publike feare.
T'amuze the world with things that neuer were,
Met.
Here may it please your highnes is the man,
One Ceballinus that brought me the newes.
Ceb.
O Alexander I haue sau'd thy life.
I am the man that hath reueild their plot.
Alex.
And how cam'st thou to be informd therof,
Ceb.
By mine owne brother, one Nichomacus,
Whom Dymnus chiefe of the conspirators,
Acquainted with the whole of their intents,
Alex.
How long since is it, this was told to thee?
Ceb.
About some three dayes, my Soueraigne Lord.
Alex.
What three dayes since? and hast thou so long kept
The thing cōceald from vs being of that weight.
Guard, take and lay him presently in hold:
Ceb.
O may it please your grace I did not keepe,
The thing conceald one houre, but presently,
Ran to acquaint Philotas therewithall,
[Page]Supposing him a man so nere in place,
Would best repect a case that toucht so neare [...]
And on him haue I waited these two dayes.
Expecting t'haue bene brought vnto your Grace,
And seeing him weigh it light, pretending that
Your graces leasure serud not fit to heare.
I, to the maister of your armory,
Addrest my selfe forthwith, to Metron here,
Who without making any more delay,
Prest in vnto your grace being in your bath,
Locking me vp the while in th'armorie,
And all what I could shew reuealed hath.
Alex.
If this be so then, fellow I confesse,
Thy loyall care of vs was more then theirs,
Who had more reason theirs should haue bin more,
Cause Dymnus to be presently brought forth,
And call Philotas straight, who now I see
Hath not deceiu'd me, in deceiuing me,
Who would haue thought one whom I held so nere.
Would from my saftie haue bene so far off,
When most it should and ought import his care,
And wherein his allegeance might make proofe
Of those effects my fauours had deseru'd,
And ought t'haue claym'd more duly at his hands
Then any of the rest. But thus w'are seru'd.
When priuate grace out of proportion stands
And that we call vp men from of below:
From th'Element of baser property,
And set them where they may behold and know
The way of might and worke of maiestie.
[Page]Where se'ing those rayes, which being sent far off,
Reflect a heat of wonder and respect,
To faile nere hand and not to shew that proofe,
(The obiect onely working that effect,)
Thinke seeing themselues (though by our fauour) set.
Within the selfe same orbe of rule with vs,
Their light would shine alone if ours were set,
And so presume t'obscure or shadow vs.
But he shall know although his neerenes hath,
Not felt our heat that we can burne him too.
And grace that shines can kindle vnto wrath:
And Alexander and the king are two.
But here they bring vs Dymnus in whose face,
I see is gilt, dispayre, horror and death.
Guar.
Yea death indeed, for ere he could b'attachd.
He stab'd himselfe so deadly to the hart,
As tis impossible that he should liue.
Al.
Say Dymnus what haue I deserud of thee:
That thou shouldst thinke worthier to be thy king,
Philotas then our selfe. Hold hold he sinkes:
Guard keepe him vp get him to answere vs.
Guar.
H'hath spoke his last h'will neuer answer more [...]
Al.
Sorry I am for that, for now hath death,
Shut vs cleene out from knowing him within:
And lockt vp in his brest all th'others harts,
But yet this deed argues the truth in grosle,
Though we be bar'd it in particular.
Philotas? are you come looke here this man,
This Ceballinus should haue suffred death:
Could it but haue ben prou'd he had conceald,
[Page]Th'intended treason from vs these two dayes,
Wherewith he sayes he streight acquainted thee:
Thinke the more nere thou ar [...]e about our selfe,
The greater is the shame of thine offence.
And which had bene lesse foule in him then thee.
Phil.
Renouned prince, for that my hart is cleare,
Amazement cannot ouercast my face,
And I must boldly with th'as [...]ured cheare,
Of my vnguilty conscience tel your grace:
That this offence (thus hapning) was not made,
By any the least thought of ill in mee:
And that the keeping of it vnbewraid,
was that I held the iumor vaine to be.
Considring some who were accusd were knowne,
Your auncient and most loyall seruitors:
And such as rather would let out their owne:
Hart bloud I know then once indanger yours,
And for me then vppon no certaine note,
But on the brable, of two wanton youthes,
T'haue tolde an idle tale, that would haue wrought,
In your distrust, and wrong to other [...] truthes,
And to no end but onely to haue made,
My selfe a scorne and odious vnto all.
(For which I rather tooke the baite was laide:
Then els for any treachery at all.)
I must confesse I thought the safest way,
To smoother it a while, to th' end I might:
Yf such a thing could be, some proufes bewray,
That might yeeld probability of right.
Protesting that mine owne vnspotted thought.
[Page]A like beliefe of others truth did breed,
Iudging no impious wretch could haue bene wrought
T'imagin such a detestable deed.
And therefore O dread Sou'raigne do not way
Philotas faith by this his ouer-fight.
But by his actions past, and onely lay
Error t'his chardge, not malice not dispight.
Al.
Well, lo thou hast a fauourable iudge,
Whē though thou hast not powre to cleere thy blame,
Yet hath he powre to pardon thee the same,
Which take not as thy right but as his grace,
Since here the person alters not the case.
And here Philotas, I forgiue th'offence,
And to confirme the same, lo here's my hand.
Phi.
O sacred hand the witnesse of my life,
By thee I hold my safetie [...]s secure,
As is my conscience free from treacherie.
Alex.
Well got'your charge, & looke to our affaires,
For we to morrow purpose to remoue.
Exit.
Alex.
In troth I know not what to iudge herein,
Me thinkes the man seemes surely cleare in this,
How euer otherwise his hopes haue beene,
Transported by his vnaduisednesse:
It cannot be, a guilty conscience should
Put on so sure a brow, or els by arte
His lookes stand new [...]rall, seeming not to hold
Respondencie of int'rest with his hart.
Sure for my part, he hath dissolu'd the knot
Of my suspition, with so cleere a hand,
As that I thinke in this (what euer plot
[Page]Of mischiefe it may be) he hath no hand
Crat.
My Lord, the greater confidence he shewes,
Who is suspected should be feard the more:
For danger from weake natures neuer growes,
Who must disturb the world are built therefore.
He more is to be feard that nothing feares,
And malice most effects, that least appeares.
Presumption of mens powres as well may breed,
Assurednesse, as innocency may:
And mischiefe seldome but by trust doth speed,
Who kings betray, first their beleife betray.
I would your grace had first conferrd with us
Since you would needes such clemency haue showne.
That we might yet but haue aduisd you thus,
That he his danger neuer might haue knowne.
In faults wherein an after shame will liue.
Tis better to conceale then to forgiue.
For who are brought vnto the block of death,
Thinke rather on the perrill they haue past:
Then on that grace which hath preserud their breath,
And more their suffrings then their mercie taste,
He now to plot your danger still may liue.
But you his guilt not alwayes to forgiue.
Know that a man so swolne with discontent,
No grace can cure nor pardon can restore:
He knowes how those who once haue mercie spent,
Can neuer hope to haue it any more.
But say that through remorce he calmer proue,
Will great Parmenio so attended on,
With that braue Armye fostred in his loue:
[Page]Be thankfull for this grace you do his sonne [...]
Some benefits are odious, so is this:
Where men are still ashamed to confesse,
To haue so done as to deserue to die:
And euer do desire that men should gesse,
They rather had receiud an iniury,
Then life, since life they know in such a case,
May be restord to all but not to grace.
Perd.
And for my part my liege I hold this minde
That sure he would not haue so much supprest,
The notice of a treason in that kinde,
Vnlesse he were a party with the rest:
Can it be thought that great Parmenios sonne,
The generall commander of the horse:
The minion of the campe the onely one,
Of secret counsell, and of free recourse
should not in three dayes space haue found the king,
At leasure t'heare three wordes of that import:
Whilst he himselfe in idle lauishing,
Did thousands spend t'adua [...]ce his owne report?
Cra.
And if he gaue no credit to the youth,
Why did he two dayes space delay him then?
As if he had belieu'd it for a truth,
To hinder his addresse to other men:
If he had held it but a vaine conceipt,
I pray why had he not dismist him streight?
Men in their priuate daungers may be stoute:
But in th'occasions and the feares of kings,
We ought not to be credulous, but doubt,
The intimation of the vainest things.
Alex.
[Page]Well howsoeuer, we will yet this night,
Disport and banquet in vnusuall wise.
That it may seeme we weigh this practise light,
How euer heauy, here within it lies.
Kings may not know distrust, and though they feare,
They must not take acquaintance of their feare.
SCENA 2.
Antigona. Thais.
OY'are a secret councell-keeper Thais,
In troth I little thought you such a one:
Tha.
And why Antigona what have I done.
Ant.
You know fulwell your conscience you bewraies,
Tha.
Alas good soule would you have me conceale:
That which your selfe could not but needes reueile?
Thinke you another can be more to you,
In what concernes them not, then you can be,
Whom it imports? Will others hold them true:
When you proue false to your owne secrecie?
But yet this is no wonder for we see,
Wiser then we do lay their heads to gage:
For ryotous expences of their tongues
Although it be a property belongs,
Especially to vs and euery age,
Can shew strange presidents what we haue ben,
In cases of the greatest plots of men.
And tis the Scene on this worlds stage we play,
[Page]Whose reuolution, we with men conuer [...],
And are to act our pa [...]te as well as they:
Though commonly the weakest, yet a-part.
For this great motion of a state we see,
Doth turne on many wheeles [...] and some though smale
Do yet the greater moue, who in degree.
Stirre those who likewise turne the great'st of all.
For though we are not wise, we see the wise
By vs are made or make vs pa [...]ies still,
In actions of the greatest quallities
That they can manage, be they good or ill.
Ant.
I cannot tell; but you haue made mee doo,
That which must euer more aflict my hart,
And if this be my wofull parte t'vndo,
my dearest loue, would I had had no part.
How haue I sealy woman sifted bene
Examind, tryde, flattred, ter [...]ifide,
By Craterus the cunningest of men,
That neuer leaft me till I had discride
What euer of Philotas I had knowne.
Tha.
What is that all? perhapps I haue thereby
Done thee more good then thou canst apprehend.
Ant.
Such good I rather you should get then I.
If that can be a good t'accuse my friend.
Th.
Alas thy accusation did but quote
The mergin of some text of greater note.
Ant.
But that is more then thou or I can tell.
Th.
Yes yes Antigona I know it well.
For be thou sure that alwayes those who seeke
T'attack the Lyon, so prouide that still,
[Page]Their toyles be such as that he shall not skape.
To turne his rage on those that wrought his ill.
Philotas neither was so strong nor high
But malice ouerlookt him, and discride,
Where he lay weake, where was his vanity,
And built her contermonts vpon that side,
In such sorte as they would be sure to raze
His fortunes with the ingins of disgrace.
And now maist thou perhapps come great hereby,
And gracious with his greatest enemie.
For such men thinke they haue no full succes:
vnles they likewise gaine the mistresses,
Of those they maister, and succeed the place,
And fortunes of their loves with equall grace
Ant.
Loues out alas, loue such a one as hee,
That seekes t'vndoo my loue [...] and in him me.
Th.
Tush loue his fortunes, loue his state, his place,
What euer greatnesse doth it must haue grace.
Ant.
I weigh not greatnesse I must please mine eye.
Th.
Th'eye nothing fairer sees then dignity.
Ant.
But what is dignity without our loue?
Th.
If we haue that we cannot want our loue,
Ant.
Why that giues but the outside of delight:
The day-time ioy, what comfort hath the night?
Th.
If powre procure not that, what can it doo?
Ant.
I know not how that can b'attaind vnto.
Th.
Nor will I teach thee if thou knowst it not.
Tis vaine I see to lea [...]ne an Asian wit.
Exit.
Ant.
If this be that great wit that learned skill,
You Greekes professe let me be foolish still,
[Page]So I be faithfull. And now being here alone,
Let me record the heauy notes of mone.
SCENA 3.
Craterus. Ephestion. Clitus. &c.
MY Lords, you see the flexible conceipt,
Of our indaungered soueraigne, and you know:
How much his perile, and Philotas pride,
Imports the state and vs, and therefore now,
We either must oppose against deceipt:
Or be vndon. For now hath time discride,
An open passage to his farthest ends,
From whence if negligence now put vs back,
Returne we neuer can wi [...]hout our wrack.
And good my Lords since you conceiue as much,
And that we stand alike, make not me prosecute
The cause alone as if it did but touch
Onely my selfe, and that I did both breed,
And vrge these doubts out of a priuate griefe.
Indeed I know I might with much more ease,
Sit still like others, and if dangers come:
Might thinke to shift for one as well as they,
But yet the saith the duty and respect:
We owe both to our soueraigne and the state,
My Lords, I hold, requires another care,
Eph.
My Lord, assure you we will take a time
To vrge a stricter count of Dymnus death.
Cra.
[Page]My Lords I say vnles this be the time,
You will apply your phisicke after death.
You see the king inuited hath this night
Philotas with the rest, and intertaines
Him with as kinde an vsage to our sight,
As euer, and you see the cunning straines
Of sweet insinuation that are vsd
Tallure the eare of grace with false reports,
So that all this will come to be excusd;
With one remoue, one action quite transports
The kings affections ouer to his hopes,
And sets him so beyond the due regard
Of his owne safety, as one enterprize,
May serue their turne, and may vs all surprize.
Cli.
But now since things thus of them selue break out
We haue aduantage to preuent the worst,
And eu'ry day will yeald vs more no doubt,
For they are sau'd that thus are warned first.
Cra.
So my Lord Clitus are they likewise warn'd.
T'accelarate their plot, being thus bewraide.
Cli.
But that they cannot now it is too late
For treason taken ere the birth, doth come
Abortiue, and her wombe, is made her tombe
Cra.
You do not know how far it hath put forth
The force of malice, nor how far is spred
Already the contagion of this ill.
Clit.
Why then there may some one be tortured
Of those whom Ceballinus bath reueald
Whereby the rest may be discouered.
Cra.
That one must be Philotas from whose head
[Page]All this corruption flowes, take him, take all.
Cli.
Philotas is not nam'd, and therefore may
Perhappes not be acquainted with this plot.
Cra.
That his concealing of the plot bewrayes,
And if we do not cast to find him first.
His wit be sure bath layd so good a ground,
As he will be the last that wilbe found.
Cli.
But if he be not found: then in this case,
We doo him more by iniuring his grace.
Cra.
If that he be not found t'haue delt in this,
Yet this will force out some such thoughts of his,
As will vndoo him, for you seldome see,
Such men araignd that euer quitted be:
Eph.
Well my Lord Craterus we will moue his grace
(Though it be late) before he take his rest,
That some course may be taken in this case,
And God ordaine it may be for the best.
Exeunt
CHORVS.
SEE how these greatmen cloth their priuate hate,
In those faire coulours of the publique good:
And to effect their ends pretend the state,
As if the state by their affections stood.
And arm [...] with powre and princes iealosies,
Will put the least conceipt of discontent:
Into the greatest ranke of treacheries:
That no one action shell seeme innocent.
[Page]Yea, valour, honor bounty shall be made,
As accessaries vnto endes vniust:
And euen the seruice of the state must lade,
The needfull'st vndertakings with distrust.
So that base vilenesse idle luxurie,
Seeme safer far, then to do worthily.
Suspicion full of eyes, and full of eares,
Doth thorow the tincture of her owne conceipt,
See all thinges in the coulours of her feares:
And truth it selfe must look [...] like to deceipt,
That what ways' euer the suspected take,
Still, enuy will most cunningly forelay
The ambush of their ruine, or will make
Their humors of themselues to take that way.
But this is still the fate of those that are,
By nature or their fortunes eminent.
Who either carried in conceipt too far,
Do worke their owne or others discontent:
Or els are deemed sit to be supprest.
Not for they are, but that they may be ill,
Since states haue euer had far more vnrest,
By spirits of worth, then men of meaner skill:
And find that those do alwayes better proue,
Wh'are equall to imployment not aboue.
For selfe opinion would be seene more wise
Then present counsels, customes, orders lawes,
And to the end to haue them otherwise,
The common wealth into combustion drawes.
As if ordaind t'imbroyle the world with wit,
Aswell as grosenesse to dishonour it.
ACTVS 4.
SCENA 1.
Attarras. Sostratus.
Sost.
CAn there be such a sudaine change in Court
As you report? is it to be belieud
That great Philotas whom we all beheld
In grace last night should be arraignd to day.
Att.
It can be: and it is as I report
For states of grace are no sure holds in courts.
Sost.
But yet tis strange they should be ouerthrowne
Before their certaine forseitures were knowen.
Att.
Tush it was breeding long though suddenly
This thunder-crack comes but to break out now.
Sost.
The time I wayted and I waited long
Vntill Philotas with some other Lords
Depart the presence, and as I conceiud,
I neuer saw the king in better mood,
Nor yet Philotas euer in more grace
Can such stormes grow and yet no clouds appeare?
Att.
Yea court stormes grow when skies there seeme most cleare
It was about the deepest of the night
The blackest howre of darknesse and of sleepe
When with some other lords comes Craterus
Falles downe before the King, intreats, implores,
Coniures his grace as euer he would looke
[Page]To saue his person and the state from spoile,
Now to preuent Philotas practises.
Whom they had plainly found to be the man
Had plotted the distruction of them all.
The king would faine haue put them off to time
And farther day, till better proofes were knowne
Which they perceiuing prest him still the more
And reinforc'd his dangers and their owne.
And neuer leaft him till they had obtaind
Commission t'apprehend Philotas streight.
Now to make feare looke with more hidious fac [...],
Or els but to beget it out of forme,
And carefull preparations of distrust:
About the pallace men in armour watch
In armour men about the king attend,
All passages and issue were forelaid
With horse, t'interrupt what euer newes
Should hence breake out into Parmenios campe.
I with three hundred men in armour chargd
Had warrant to attach and to committ
The person of Philotas presently:
And comming to his lodging where he lay,
Found him imburied in the soundest sleepe
That euer man could bee. where neither noice
Of clattring weapons, or our rushing in
With rude and trampling rumour, could dissolue
The heauie humour of that drowsie brow
Which held perhaps his sences now more fast
As loath to leaue because it was the last.
Sost.
Attarras, what can treason sleepe so sound?
[Page]Will that lowd hand of Horror that still beats,
Vpon the guilty conscience of distrust:
Permit it [...]'haue so resolute a rest?
Att.
I cannot tell but thus we found him there,
Nor could wee I assure you waken him:
Till thrice I calld him by his name, and thrice
Had shooke him hard, and then at length he wakes,
And looking on me with a setled cheere,
Deare friend Attarras, what's the newes said hee?
What vp so soone to hasten the remoue,
Or raisd by some al'arme or some distrust?
I told him that the king had some distrust.
Why what will Nabarzanes play saith he
The villaine with the king; as he hath done
Already with his miserable Lord?
I seeing he would, or did not vnderstand
His owne distreste: told him the charge I had:
Wherewith he rose, and rising vsd these words:
O Alexander now I see my foes,
Haue got aboue thy goodnes, and preuaild:
Against my innocency and thy word.
And as we then inchain'd and fettred him,
Looking on that base furniture of shame,
Poore body, said he, hath so many alarme:
Raysd thee to bloud and danger from thy rest,
T'inuest thee with this armor now at last,
Is this the seruice I am cald to now?
But we that were not to attend his plaints,
Couering his head with a disgracefull weed:
Tooke and conuaid him suddainly to warde,
[Page]From whence he shalbe instantly brought forth,
Here to b'arraignd before the king, who sits,
(According to the Macedonian vse)
In cases capitall, himselfe, as Iudge.
Sost.
Well then I see who are so high aboue,
Are nere to lightning that are nere to Ioue.
SCENA 2.
Alexander with al his coūcel, the dead body of Dymnus. the reuealers of the conspiracie, Philotas.
THe haynous treason of some few had like,
T'haue [...]ent me from you worthie soldiers,
But by the mercy of th'immortall Gods
I liue, and ioy your sight, your reuerend sight,
Which makes mee more t'abhore those parracides,
Not for mine owne respect, but for the wrong,
You had receiued, if their designe had stood.
Since I desire but life to do you good.
But how will you be mou'd when you shall know,
Who were the men that did attempt this shame:
When I shall show that which I grieue to show:
And name such as would God I could not name,
But that the foulnesse of their practise now:
Blots out all memory of what they were
And though I would suppresse them, yet I know,
[Page]This shame of theirs will neuer but appeare.
Parmenio is the man, a man you see
Bound by so many merits both to me
And to my father, our ancienst frend
A man of yeares, experience grauity,
Whose wicked minister Philotas is
Who here Dimetrius Luculaus, and
This Dymnus whose dead body here you see
With others hath subornd to slaughter mee.
And, here comes Motron with Nichomacus
To whom this murthred wretch at first reueald
The proiect of this whole conspiracie
T'auere as much as was disclosd to him.
Nichomacus looke here aduise thee well,
What dost thou know this man that here lies dead?
Nic.
My soueraigne Lord: I know him very well,
It is one Dymnus who did three dayes since
Bewray to me a treason practised
By him and others to haue slaine your grace.
Al.
Where or by whome, or when did he report
This wicked act should be accomplished?
Nic.
He said within three dayes your maiesty
Should be within your chamber murthered
By speciall men of the nobillity
Of whom he many namd, and they were these:
Loceus, Dimetrius, and Archelopis
Nicanor and Amyntas, Luculous
Droceus with Aphebaetus and himselfe.
Mot
Thus much his brother Ceballinus did
Reueale to me from out this youthes report.
Ceb.
[Page]And so much with the circumstance of all
Did I vnto Philotas intimate.
Alex.
Then what hath bene his mind, who did suppresse
The information of so foule a traine
Your selues my worthy Soludiers well may gesse,
Which Dymnus death declares not to be vaine.
Poore Ceballinus not a moment stayes,
To redischarge himselfe of such a waight,
Philotas careles, fearelesse, nothing weighes
Nor ought reueales. His silence shews deceipt,
And tels he was content it should be done
Which though he were no party makes him one.
For he that knew vpon what powre he stood
And saw his fathers greatnes, and his owne
Saw nothing in the way which now withstood
His vast [...] desires, but onely this my crowne.
Which in respect that I am issulesse
He thinkes the rather easie to b'attaind
But yet Philotas is deceiud in this
I haue who shall inhe [...]it all I gaind.
In you I haue both children, kindred friends
You are the heires of all my purchases,
And whilst you liue I am not issuleste.
And that these are not shadowes of my feares,
(For I feare nought but want of enemies,)
See what this intercepted letter beares,
And how Parmenio doth his sonnes aduise:
This showes their ends, hold read it Craterus.
Crat.
reads it.
My sonnes, First ha [...]e a special care vnto your selues
Then vnto those which do depend on you.
[Page]So Shall you do what you intend to doo.
Alex.
See but how close he writes, that if these lines
Should come vnto his sonnes, as they are sent,
They might incourage them in their disseignes,
If interpris'd, might mock the ignorant
But now you see what was the thing was ment,
You see the fathers care the sonnes intent.
And what if he as a conspirator,
Was not by Dymnus nam'd among the rest:
That shewes not his innocencie but his powre,
Whom they account too great to be supprest:
And rather will accuse themselues then him,
For that whilst he shall liue, there's hope for them.
And how h'hath borne himselfe in priuate sorte.
I will not stand to vrge, it's too well knowne,
Nor what hath bene his arrogant reporte:
T'imbase my actions, and to bragge his owne.
Nor how he mockt my letter which I wrote [...]:
To shew him of the stile bestowd on mee,
By th'Oracle of Ioue. these things I thought
But weaknesses, and wordes of vanity,
(Yet words that read the vlcers of his hart)
Which I supprest, and neuer ceast to yeald
The cheife rewards of worth and still compart,
the best degrees and honors of the field.
In hope to win his loue, yet now at length,
There haue I danger where I lookt for strength:
I would to God my bloud had rather bene
Powrd out, the offring of an enemy;
Then practizd to be shed by one of mine,
[Page]That one of mine should haue this in [...]amy.
Haue I bene so reserud from feares to fall
There where I ought not to haue feard at all [...]
Haue you so oft aduisd me to regard
The safety, which you saw mee running from,
When with some hote pursute I pressed hard
My foes abrode; to perish thus at home?
But now that safty only rests in you
Which you so oft haue wisht me looke vnto.
And now vnto your bosomes must I fly
Without whose will I will not wish to liue:
And with your wils I cannot; lesse I giue
Due punishment vnto this treachery.
Amyn.
Attarras, bring the hatefull prisoner forth
This traitor which hath sought t'vndoo vs all,
To giue vs vp to slaughter, and to make
Our bloud a skorne, here in a barberous land.
That none of vs should haue retourned back,
Vnto our natiue country, to our wiues
Our aged parents, kindred, and our friends.
To make the body of this glorious host
A most deformed trunke without a head,
Without the life or soule to guide the same
Caenus.
O thou base traitor impious parracide,
Who mak'st me loath the bloud that match'd with thine
And if I might but haue my will. I vow
Thou shouldst not die by other hand then mine.
Alex.
Fie Caenus what a barbarous course is this
He first must to his accusation pleade.
And haue his triall, formall to our lawes
[Page]And let him make the best of his bad cause
Philotas here the Macedonians are
To iudge your fact, what language wilt thou vse?
Phi.
The Persian language if it please your grace,
For thar beside the Macedonians, here
Are many that will better vnderstand,
If I shall vse the speach your grace hath vs'd,
Which was I hold vnto no other end,
But that the most men here might vnderstand.
Al.
See how his natiue language he disdaines,
But let him speake at large as he desires,
So long as you remember he doth hate
Besides the speech our glory and the state.
Exit [...]
Phi.
Black are the coulours laid vpon the crime,
Wherewith my faith stands chargd my worthy lord [...]
That as behind in fortune so in time,
I come too late to cleere the same with words.
My condemnation is gone out before
My innocency, and my iust defence:
And takes vp all your harts, and leaues no dore
For mine excuse to haue an enterance.
That destitute of all compassion, now,
Betwixt an vp [...]ight conscience of desart,
And an vniust disgrace, I know not how
To satisfie the time, and mine owne hart.
Authority lookes with so sterne an eye
Vpon this wofull Bar, and must haue still
Such an aduantage ouer misery
As that it will make [...] good, all that it will.
He who should onely iudge my cause, is gone,
[Page]And why he would not stay, I do not see,
Since when my cause were heard his powre alone,
As well might then condemne as set me free:
Nor can I by his absence now be clear'd
Whose presence hath condemn'd me thus vnheard.
And though the greeuance of a prisoners tongue,
May both superfluous and disgracefull seeme,
Which doth not sue, but shewes the iudge his wrong:
Yet pardon mee, I must not disesteme
My rightfull cause for being dispisd, nor must
Forsake my selfe, though I am leaft of all,
Feare cannot make my innocence vniust
Vnto it selfe, to giue my truth the fall.
And I had rather, seeing how my fortune drawes,
My words should be deformed then my cause.
I know that nothing is more delicate
Then is the sence and feeling of a state:
The clappe, the bruit, the feare but of a hurt
In kings behalfes, thrusts with that violence
The subiects will to prosecute report,
As they condemne, ere they discerne th'offence.
Eph.
Philotas you deceiue your self in this
That thinke to win compassion, and beliefe
B'impugning iustice and to make men gesse
We doo you wrong out of our heat of griefe,
Or that our place or passions did lay more
On your misfortunes, then your owne deseart
Or haue not well discernd your fact before,
Or would without, due proofes your state subuert,
These are the vsuall theames of traytors tongues
[Page]Who practise mischiefs, and complaine of wrongs
Your treasons are too manifestly knowne
To maske in other liuery then their owne.
Cra.
Thinke not, that we are set to charge you here
With bare suspicions but with open fact,
And with a treason that appeares as cleare
As is the sunne, and knowne to be your act.
Ph.
What is this treason? who accuses mee?
Cra.
The processe of the whole conspiracy.
Ph.
But wher's the man that names me to be one?
Cra.
Here this dead traitor shews you to be one.
Ph.
How can he dead, accuse me of the same
Whom liuing he nor did, nor yet could name.
Cra.
But we can other testimonie show
From those who were your chiefest complices.
Ph.
I am not to b'adiudgd in law you know
By testimony, but by witnesses.
No testimonijs sīe testibsu.
Let them be here produc'd vnto my face
That can auouch m'a party in this case.
My Lords and fellowe soldiers if of those
Whom Dymnus nominated, any one
Out of his tortures will a word disclose
To shew I was a party: I haue done.
Thinke not so great a number euer will
Endure their torments and themselues accuse
And leaue me out. Since men in such case, still
Will rather slander others then excuse.
Calamity malignant is, and he
That suffers iustly for his guiltinesse
Eases his owne affliction, but to see
[Page]Others' tormented in the same distresse,
And yet I feare not whatsoeuer they
By rackes and tortures can be forest to say.
Had I bene one would Dymnus haue conceald,
My name being held to be the principall?
would he not for his glory haue reueald
The best to him to whom he must tell all?
Nay if he falsly then had nam'd me one?
To grace himselfe, must I of force be one.
Alas, if Ceb [...]llinus had not come to me
And giuen me note of this conspiracy
I had not stood here now but bin as free
From question as I am from treachery.
That is the only cloud that thundereth
On my disgrace. Which had I deemed true
Or could but haue deuind of Dymnus death
Philotas, had, my Lords, sat therewith you.
My fault was to haue bene too credulous
Wherein I shewd my weaknesse I confesse.
Cra.
Philotas what a monarch and confesse
Your imperfections and your weaknes?
Phi.
O Craterus, do not insult vpon calamity,
It is a barberous grossnes to lay on
The weight of skome where heauy misery
To much already waies mens fortunes downe
For if the cause be ill I vndergo,
The law and not reproch must make it so.
Caen.
Ther's no reproch can euer be too much
To lay on traitors, whose desearts are such.
Ph.
Men vse the most reproches where they feare
[Page]The cause will better proue then their desire.
Caen.
But sir, a traitors [...]ause that is so cleere.
As this of yours will neuer need that feare.
Phi.
I ame no traitor but suspected one,
For not beleiuing a conspiracie.
And mere suspect by law condemneth none,
They are approued facts for which men die.
Cra.
The law in treasons doth the will correct.
With like seuerenes as it doth th'effect.
Th'affection is the essence of th'offence,
The execution onely but th'accidence,
To haue but will'd it, is t'haue done the same.
Phi.
I did not erre in will, but in beliefe,
And if that be a traitor, then am I the cheefe.
Cra.
Yea but your will made your beliefe consent
To hide th'practise till th'accomplishment.
Phi.
Beliefe turnes not by motions of our will,
And it was but the euent that made that ill.
Some facts men may excuse, though not defend,
Where will & fortune haue a diuers end.
Th'example of my father made me feare,
To be too forward to relate things heard.
Who writing to the king, wisht him forbeare,
The potion his phisition had prepard.
For that he heard Darius tempted had,
His faith, with many talents, to b'vntrue.
And yet his druggs in th'end not prouing bad,
Did make my fathers care seeme more then due.
For oft by an vntimely dilligence,
A busy faith may giue a prince offence.
[Page]So that, what shall wee doo? if wee reueale,
Wee are dispis'd, suspected if conceale.
And as for this where euer now thou bee
O Alexander thou hast pardon'd me.
Thou hast alreadie giuen me thy hand,
The earnest of thy reconciled hart.
And therefore now ô let thy goodnes stand,
Vnto thy word, and be thou as thou wert.
Yf thou beleuidst me then, I am absolud,
Yf pardon'd me, these fetters are dissolu'd.
What haue I els deseru'd since yester night,
When at thy table I such grace did finde,
What hainous crime hath since beene brought to light [...]
To wrong my faith, and to diuert thy mind?
That from a restfull quiet most profound,
Sleeping in my misfortunes, made secure
Both by thy hand, and by a conscience sound,
I must be wak't for Gyues, for robes impure,
For all disgrace that on me wrath could lay,
And see the worst of shame, ere I saw day.
When I least thought that others crueltie,
Should haue wrought more thē thine owne clemency.
Cra.
Philotas whatsoeuer glosse you lay,
Vpon your rotten cause, it is in vaine,
Your pride, your cariage, euer did bewray.
Your discontent, your malice, and disdaine.
You cannot palliat mischiefe but it will,
Th'row all the fairest couerings of deceipt
Be alwaies seene; we know those streames of ill,
Flow'd from that head that feed them with conceipt.
[Page]You foster malcontents, you intertaine
All humors, you all factions must imbrace.
Yow vaunt your owne exploites, and you disdaine
The kings proceedings, and his stile disgrace.
You promise mountaines, and you draw men on,
With hopes of greater good then hath bene seene.
You braggd of late that something would be donne
Whereby your Concubine should be a Queene.
And now we see the thing that should be donne.
But God be praisd we see you first vndonne.
Ph.
Ah do not make my nature, if it had,
So pliable a sterne of disposition,
To turne to euery kindnes, to be bad,
For doing good to men of all condition.
Make not you charitie t'inter prete all
Is donne for fauor to be donne for show,
And that we in our bounties prodigall.
Vpon our ends not on mens needes bestow.
Let not my one daies error make you tell,
That all my life-time I did neuer well.
And that because this falles out to be ill,
That what I did, did tend vnto this ill.
It is vniust to ioine t'a present fact
More of time past then it hath euer had
Before to doo with-all, as if it lackt
Sufficient matterels to make it bad.
[...] d [...]o confesse indeed I wrote somthing.
Against this title of the sonne of Ioue,
And that not of the king but to the king,
I [...]reely vs'd these words out of my loue,
[Page]And thereby hath that dangerous liberty
Of speaking truth, with trust on former grace
Betraid my meaning vnto emnity
And drawne an argument of my disgrace.
So that I see though I spake what I ought,
It was not in that maner as I ought.
And God forbid that euer soldiers words
Should be made lyable vnto misdeedes,
When fainting in their march, tyrd in the fight,
Sick in their tent, stopping their wounds that bleedes,
Or haut and iolly after conquest gote
They shall out of their heate vse words vnkind,
Their deeds deserue to haue them rather thought
The passion of the season, then their minde.
For souldiers ioy, or wrath is measurelesse [...]
Rapt with an instant motion, and we blame,
We hate, we prayse, we pitty in excesse
According as our present passions flame.
Sometimes to passe the Ocean we would faine
Sometimes to other worlds, and sometimes slack
And idle, with our conquests, intertaine
A sullen humor of returning back.
All which conceipts one trumpets sound doth end,
And each man running to his rankes doth lose
What in our tents dislik [...] vs, and we spend
All that conceiued wrath vpon our foes.
And words, if they proceed of leuity
Are to be skornd, of madnesse pittied
If out of malice or of iniury
To be remiss'd or vnacknowledged:
[Page]For of themselues they vanish by disdaine,
But if pursude they will be thought not vaine.
Cr [...].
But wordes according to the person way,
If his designes are hainous so are they,
They are the tinder of sedition, still,
Wherewith you kindle fiers inflame mens will.
Phi.
Craterus you haue th'aduantage of the day,
The law is yours to say what you will say.
And yet doth all your Glosse but beare the sence,
Onely of my misfortune not offence.
Had I pretended mischief to the king,
Could not I haue effected it without
Dimnus? did not my free accesse bring
Continuall meanes t'haue brought the same about?
Was not I since I heard the thing discride,
Alone, and arm'd in priuate with his grace,
What hindred me that then I had not tride
T'haue done that mischiefe, hauing time and place?
Cra.
Philotas euen the prouidence aboue.
Protectresse of the sacred state of kings,
That neuer suffers trecherie to haue
Good councell, neuer in this case but bringes
Confusion to the actors, did vndo
Your harts, in what you went about to do.
Phi.
But yet dispayre we see doth thrust men on
Se'ing no way els t'vndoo er be vndon.
Cra.
That same dispaire doth likewise let men fall
In that amaze they can do nought at all.
Phi.
Well, well, my Lords my seruice hath made known [...]
The faith I owe my Soueraigne and the state
[Page] Philotas forwardnesse hath euer showne
Vnto all nations at how high a rate
I prizd my king, and at how low my bloud,
To do him honor and my countrie good.
Eph.
We blame not what y'haue bene, but what you are:
We accuse not here your valour, but your fact,
Not to haue bene a leader in the warre,
But an ill subiect, in a wicked act.
Although we know thrust rather with the loue
Of your owne glory, then with duty lead
You haue done much, yet all your courses proue
You tide still your a [...]chieuements to the head
Of your owne honor, when it had bin meete,
You had them layd, downe at your soueraignes feete.
God giues to kings the honor to commaund,
To subiects all their glory to obay:
Who ought in time of war as rampiers stand,
In peace as th'ornaments of state aray.
The king hath recompensd your seruices
With better loue then you shew thankfulnesse.
By grace, he made you greater then you were
By nature: you receiu'd that which he was not tide
To giue to you: his guift was far more deere
Then all you did, in making you imployd.
But say your seruice hath deseru'd at all,
This one offence hath made it odious all.
And therefore here in vaine, you vse that meane
To plead for life, which you haue canceald cleane.
Phi.
My lord you far mistake mee if you dee [...]e
I plead for life, that poore weake blast of breath,
[Page]From which so oft I ran with light esteeme
And so well haue acquainted mee with death,
No no, my Lords, it is not that I feare
It is mine honor that I seeke to cleare.
And which if my disgraced cause would let
The language of my hart be vnderstood,
Is all which I haue euer sought to get
And which (o leaue mee now) and take my bloud.
Let not your enuy go beyond the bound
Of what you seeke: my life stands in your way
That is your ayme, take it and do not wounde
My reputation with that wrong I pray.
If I must needes be made the sacrifice
Of enuy, and that no oblation will
The wrath, of Kings but onely bloud suff [...]ze,
Yet let me, haue something left that is not ill.
Is there no way to get vnto our liues
But first to haue our honour ouerthrowne?
Alas though grace of Kings all greatnesse giues
It cannot giue vs vertue, that's our owne
Though all be theirs our harts and hands can do
Yet that by which we doo is onely ours:
The trophies that our blood erects vnto
Their memory to glorifie their powres
Let them inioy: yet onely to haue done
Worthy of grace let not that be vndone.
Let that high swelling riuer of their fame
Leaue humble streames that feed them yet their name
O my deare father didst thou bring that spirit
Those hands of vallour that so much haue done.
[Page]In this great worke of Asia, this to merit
By dooing worthily to be vndone?
And hast thou made this purchase of thy sword
To get so great an Empire for thy Lord
And so disgrac'd a graue for thee and thine,
T'extinguish by thy seruice all thy line?
One of thy sonnes by being to valourous
But fiue daies since, yet ô well, lost his breath
Thy deare Nicanor th'halfe arch of thy house,
And here now the other at the barr of death
Stands ouerchardgd with wrath in far worse case
And is to be confounded with disgrace.
Thy selfe must giue th'acquitance of thy blood
For others debts to whom thou hast done good.
Which if they would a little time afford
Death would haue taken it without a sword.
Such the rewards of great imployments are
Hate kills in peace, whom fortune spares in war.
And this is that high grace of Kings we seeke,
Whose fauour, and whose wrath consumes a like.
Eph.
Lo here the misery of kings, whose cause
How euer iust it be, how euer strong,
Yet in respect they may, their greatnesse drawes
The world to thinke they euer do the wrong.
But this foule fact of yours you stand vpon
Philotas shall beside th'apparancy
Which all the world sees plaine, ere we haue done
By your owne mouth be made to satisfie.
The most stiffe par [...]lalist that will not see.
Phi.
My mouth will neuer proue so false I trust
Vnto my hart, to shew it selfe vniust:
[Page]And what I here do speake I know my lords
I speake with mine owne mouth, but other where
What may be said I say, may be the words
Not of my breath, but fame that oft doth erre,
Let th'oracle of Ammon be inquir [...]d
About this fact, who if it shall be true
Will neuer suffer those who haue conspird
Against Ioues sonne t'escape without their due;
But will reueale the truth, or if this shall
Not seeme conuenient: why then lay on all
The tortures that may force a tongue to tell,
The secret'st thought that could imagin ill.
Bel.
What need we sēd to know more then we know
That were to giue you time t'acquaint your friends
With your estate, till some combustion grow
Within the camp to hasten on your ends:
And that the gold and all the treasury
Committed to your fathers custody
In Media, now might arme his desp'rat troupes
To come vpon vs and to cut our throtes.
What shall we aske of Ioue that which he hath
Reueald already? but let's send to giue
Thanks that by him, the king hath skapt the wrath
Of thee disloyall traitor and doth liue.
Guar.
Lets teare the wretch in peeces, let vs rend
With our owne hands, the traitrous para [...]ide.
Alex.
Peace [...]elon, silence louing souldiers.
You see my lords out of your iudgments grau [...]
That all excuses sickly colours haue,
And he that hath thus false and faithles ben [...]
[Page]Must finde out other gods and other men
Whom to forsweare, and whom he may decelue,
No words of his can make vs more belieue
His impudence, and therefore seeing tis late,
We till the morning, do dismisse the court.
ACTVS 5.
Chorus. Grecian and Persian.
Per.
WEll then I see there is small difference
Betwixt your state and ours, you ciuill Greek [...]
You great contriuers of free gouerments.
Whose skill the world from out all countries seekes.
Those whom you call your kings are but the same
As are our soueraigne tirants of the East,
I see they onely differ but in name,
Th'effects they shew agree, or neere at least.
Your great men here as our great Satrapaes
I see laid prostrate are with basest shame,
Vpon the least suspect, or iealousies
Your King, [...]conceiue or others en [...]yes frame,
Onely herein they differ, that your Prince
Proceeds by forme of law t'effect his end;
Our Persian Monarch makes his frowne conuince
The strongest truth: his sword the proces ends
With present death, and maks no more adoo,
He neuer stands to giue a glosse vnto
His violence, to make it to appeare
In other hew, then that it ought to beare [...]
Wherein plaine dealing best his course commends
For more h'offends who by the law offends
What neede hath Alexander so to striue
By all these shewes of fornie to find this man
Guilty of treason, when he doth contriue
To haue him so adiudgd, do what he can.
He must not be acquit, though he be clere
Th'offendor not th'offence is punisht here.
And what availes the fore-condemnd to speake
How euer strong his cause, his state is weake.
Gre.
Ah, but it satisfies the world, and wee
Think that well don, which done by law wesee.
Per.
And yet your law serues but your priuate ends
And to the compasse of your powre extends.
But is it for the [...]iesty of Kings
To sit in iudgments thus themselues with you?
Gre.
To do men iustice is the thing that bringes
The greatest maiesty on earth to Kings.
Per.
That by their subalternate ministers
May be performed as well, and with more grate
For to command it to be don infers
More glory then to doo. It doth imbase
Th'opinion of a powre t'inuulgar so
That sacred presence, which should neuer go
Neuer bes [...]ene, but even as Gods below
Like to our Persian Kings in glorious show.
And who as starres affixed to their Sphere
May not descend to be from what they are.
Gre.
Where kings are so like gods, there subiects are not men,
Per.
Your king begins this course, & what wil you be thē?
Gre.
[Page]Indeed since prosperous fortune gaue the raine
To head-strong powre and lust, I must confesse
We Grecians haue lost deepely by our gayne,
And this our greatnesse makes vs much the l [...]ss [...]
For by th'accession of these mighty states
Which Alexander wonderously hath got
He hath forgot himselfe, and vs, and rates
His state aboue mankind, and ours at noughs.
This hath thy pompeô feeble Asia wrought,
Thy base adorings hathtransformd the King
Into that shape of pride, as he is brought
Out of his witts, out of acknowledging
From whence the glory of his greatnesse springes,
And that it was our swords that wrought these thinges.
How well were we within the narrow bounds
Of our sufficient yeelding Macedon,
Before our kings inlardgd then with our wounds
And made these salies of ambition.
Before they came to giue the regall law
To those free states which kept their crownes in awe.
They by these large dominions are made more
But we become far weaker then before.
What get we now by winning but wide mindes
And weary bodyes with th'expence of bloud?
What should ill doo, since happy fortune findes
But misery, and is not good, though good?
Action begets still action, and retaines
Our hopes beyond our wishes, drawing on
Aneuer ending circle of our paines
That makes vs not haue donne, when we haue done.
[Page]What can giue boundes to Alexanders ends
Who countes the world but small, that calles him great:
And his desires beyond his pray distends
Like beasts that murther more then they can eate?
When shall we looke his trauailes will be donne,
That tends beyond the Ocean and the Sunne?
What discontentments will there still arise
In such a Campe of kings, to inter-shock
Each others greatnesse, and what mutinies,
Will put him from his comforts, and will mock
His hopes, and neuer suffer him to haue
That which he hath of all which fortune gaue?
And from Philotas bloud (ô worthy man)
Whose body now rent on the torture lyes
Will slow that vaine of fresh conspiracies,
As ouer-flow him will, do what he can.
For cruelty doth not imbetter men
But them more wary makes, then they haue ben.
Per.
Are not your great-men free from tortures then
Must they be likewise rackt, as other men?
Gre.
Treason affords a priuiledg to none
Who like offends, hath punishment all one.
SCENA 2.
Polidamas, Sostratus.
FRriend Sostratus, come haue you euet knowne
Such a distracted face of court as now,
Such a distrustfull eye, as men are growne
To feare themselues and all: and do not know.
Where is the side that shakes not, who lookes best
In this foule day, th'oppressor or th'opprest.
What posting, what dispatches, what aduice,
What search, what running, what discoueries?
What rumors, what suggestions, what deuice
To cleere the king, please people, hold the wise,
Retaine the [...]ude, crush the suspected sorte
At vnawares, ere they discearne th'are hurt.
So much the fall of such a weighty peere
Doth shake the state, and with him tumble downe,
All whom his beame of fauour did vpbeare,
All who to rest vpon his base were knowne.
And none that did but touch vpon his loue
Are free from feare to perish with his loue.
My selfe whom all the world haue knowne t'imbrace
Parmenio in th'intirenes of my hart,
And euer in all battayles, euery chace
Of daunger, fought still next him on that part:
Was seazd on this last night, late in my bed,
And brought vnto the presence of the king.
[Page]To pay I thought the tribute of my head,
But ô twas for a more abhorred thing:
I must redeeme my daunger with the bloud
Of this deare friend, this deare Parmenios bloud.
His life must pay for mine, these hands must gore,
That worthy hart, for whom they fought before.
Sost.
What hath the king commanded such a deed,
To make the harts of all his subiects bleed?
Must that olde worthy man Parmenio die?
Pol.
O Sostratus he hath his doome to die,
And we must yeald vnto necessity.
For comming to the king, and there receiud
With vnexpected grace, he thus began:
Polidamas we both haue ben deceiud
In holding friendship with that faithlesse man
Parmenio, who for all his glozing mine
Thou seest hath sought to cut my throte and thine,
And thou must worke reuenge for thee and me:
And therefore haste to Media speedely,
Take these two letters here, the one from mee
Vnto my sure and trustie seiuants there,
The other signed with Philotas seale,
As if the same t'his father written were:
Carry them both, effect what I haue said,
The one will giue th'accesse, the other ayde,
I tooke the letters, vowd t'effect the same.
And here I go the instrument of shame.
Sost.
But will you charge your honour with this shame?
Poli.
I must or be vndone with all my name.
For I haue left all th'adamantiue tyes
[Page]Of bloud and natūre, that can hold a hart
Chaind to the world [...] my br̄ethren and allies
The Ostages to caution for my parte.
And for their liues must I dishonor mine.
Els should the king rather haue turnd this sword
Vpon my hart, then forst it impiously,
(Hauing done all faire seruice to his Lord
Now to b'imployd in this foule villanie.)
Thus must we do who are inthrald to kings,
whether they will iust or vnlawfull things.
But now Parmenio, ô me think I see
Thee walking in th'artificiall Groue
Of pleasant Susis, when I come to thee,
And thou rememb [...]ing all our ancient loue
Hastes to imbrace me. Saying ô my friend,
My deare Polidamas, welcome my friend,
Well art thou come that we may sit and chate
Of all the old aduentures we haue run.
Tis long Polidamas since we two met,
How doth my soueraigne Lord, how doth my sonne?
When I vile wretch, whilst m'answere he attends
With this hand giue the letter, this hand ends
His speaking ioy, and stabbs him to the hart.
And thus Parmenio thou rewarded art
For all thy seruice, thou that didst agree
For Alexander to kill Attalus
For Alexander I must now kill thee.
Such are the iudgments of the heauenly powrs,
We others ruynes worke, and others ours.
Cho. P.
Why this is right now Alexander takes
[Page]The course of powre, this is a Persian tricke,
This is our way, here publike triall makes
No doubtfull noyse, but buries clamor quick.
Gr.
Indeed now Persia hath no cause to rew,
For you haue vs vndone, who vndid you.
NVNGIVS.
THis worke is donne, the sad Catastrophe
Of this great act of bloud is finisht now.
Philotas ended hath the tragedy.
Cho.
Now good my friend I pray thee tell vs how.
N.
As willing to relato as you to heare
A full-chargd hart is glad to finde an eare.
The Councell being dimissd from hence, and gone,
Still Craterus plyes the King, still in his eare,
Still whispering to him priuately alone,
Vrging it seemd a quick dispatch of feare:
For they who speako but priuately to Kings,
Do seldome speake the best and fittest things.
Some would haue had him forthwith ston'd to death.
According to the Macedonian course:
But yet that would not satisfie the breath
Of busie rumour; but would argue force,
There must be some confessions made within,
That must abrode more satisfaction minne.
Craterus with Caenus and Ephestion,
Do mainely vrge to haue him tortured,
[Page]Whereto the king consents, and there vppon
They three are sent to see't accomplished.
Racks, Yrons, Fires, the grisely torturers
Stand hidcously prepard before his face.
Philotas all vnmou'd, vnchaungd appeares,
As if [...] he would, deathes ougliest brow out-face,
And skornd the worst of force, and askt them why
They staid to torture the kings enemy.
Cho.
That part was acted well, God grant we heare
No worse a Scene then this, and all goes cleare.
So should worth act, and they who dare to fight
Against corrupted times should dye vpright:
Such harts kings may dissolue but not defeat,
Agreat man where he falles he should lye great
Whose ruine (like the sacred carkeses
Of skattred temples which still reuerent lio,
And the religious honour them no lesse
Then if they stood in all their gallantry.
But on with thy report.
Nu.
Straight were hote-yrons appli'd to sere his flesh,
Then wresting racks, his comely body straine:
Then yron whipps and then the rack a-fresh,
Then fire againe, and then the whipps againe:
Which he indures with so resolud a looke
As if his mind were of another side
Then of his body, and his sence for sooke
The part of nature, to be wholy tyde
To honor, that he would not once consent
So much as with a sight' his punishment.
Ch.
Yet doth he like himselfe yet all is well.
[Page]This Argument no tyrant can refell,
This plea of resolution winnes his cause
More right then all, more admiration drawes,
For we loue nothing more then to renowne
Men stoutely miserable, highly downe.
N.
But now.
Ch.
We f [...]are that but. O if he ought discend
Leaue here, and let the Tragedie here end,
Let not the least act now of his at last,
Marre all his act of life and glories past.
Nu,
I must tell all, and therefore giue nie leaue,
Swolne with raw tumors, vlcered with the ierk [...]s
Of Iron whips, that slesh from bene had raz [...]d,
And no part free from wounds; it erkes
His soule to see the house so foule defast,
Wherein his life had dwelt so long time clene,
And therefore craues he, they would now dismisse
His grieuous tortures, and he would begin
To open all wherein h'had donne amisse.
Streight were his tortures ceast, and after they
Had let him to recouer sense he said,
Now Craterus say, what you will haue me say?
Wherewith as if deluded, or delaid,
Cratetus in wrath calles presently againe,
To haue the tortures to be reapplied.
When what soeuer secret of his hart
Which had bene fore-conceiued but in athought
What friend soeuer had but tooke his part
In common loue h'accus'd; and so forgot
Himselfe that now he was more forward to
[Page]Confesse, then they to vrge him thereunto,
Whether affliction had his spirits vndonne,
Or seeing to hide or vtter was all one;
Both waies lay death, and therefore he would vie
Now to be sure to say enough to die.
[...]nd then began his fortunes to deplore
Humbly besought them, whom he skornd before,
That Alexander where he stood behind
A Trauers, out of sight, was heard to speake:
I neuer thought a man that had a mind
T'attempt so much, had had a heart so weake.
There he confest that one Hegelochus,
When first the King proclaimd himselfe Ioues sonne:
Incene'd his fathers heart against him thus,
By telling him that now we were vndone,
If we indur'd, that he which did disdaine
To haue beene Philips sonne, should liue and raigne.
He that aboue the state of man will straine
His stile, and will not be that which we are,
Not onely vs contemnes, but doth disdaine
The godds themselues, with whom he would compare,
We haue lost Alexander, lost (said he)
The King; and falue on pride and vanitie:
And we haue made a God of our owne bloud,
That glorisies himselfe, neglects our good.
Intollerable is this impious deed,
To Godds, whom he would match, to men he would exceed.
Thus having over-night Hegelochus
Discoursd: my father sends next day
For me to heare the same: and there to vs
[Page]All he had said to him made him re-say.
Supposing out of wine the night before
He might but idlic raue. When he againe
Far more inragd; in heat and passion more
Vrgd vs to clere the state of such a stayne.
Coniurd vs to redeeme the common-weale
And doo like men, or els as men conceale.
Parmenio thought whilst yet Darius st [...]od
This course was out of season; and thereby
Th'extinguishing of Alexanders bloud
Would now not profit vs, but th'enemy.
But he once dead; we seazing th'others powres
Might make all th' orient, and all Asia ours,
That course we lik't, to that our councell stands,
There-to we tyde our othes, and gaue our hands.
And as for this, he said, for Dymnus plot,
Though he were cleere yet now it cleer'd him not.
And yet the force of racks at last could do
So much with him, as he confest that too.
And said that fearing Bactra would detaine
The king too long, he hastned on his endes,
Least that his father, Lord of such a traine
And such a wealth, an whome the whole depends,
Should being aged, by his death preuent
These his designes, and frustrate his intent.
Dum inficiatus eft facinus crudeliter torqu [...]rividebatur post confessione Philotas ne amicor [...] ̄ guid [...] misericordiam mer [...]it.
Cho.
O would we had not heard this latter iarre,
This all his former straines of worth doth marre:
Before this last his foes his spirit commends,
But now he is vnpittied of his friends.
Nun.
Then was Demetrius likewise brought in place,
[Page]And put to torture, who denies the deed,
Philotas he auerres it to his face.
Demetrius still denies: then he espide
A youth one Calm that was standing by;
Calin said he, how long wilt thou abide,
Demetrius vainely to auouch a lie.
The youth, that neuer had ben nam'd before
In all his tortures, gaue them cause to gesse
Philotas car'd not now to vtter more
Then had bene priuie to his practises.
And seeing they had as much as they desir'd,
They with Demetrius ston'd him vnto death,
And all whom Dymnus nam'd to haue conspird,
With greeuous tortures now must loose their breath:
And all that were allyde which could not flie,
Are in the hands of Iustice now to dye.
Ch.
What must the punishment ariue beyond
Th' offence, not with th'offender make an end?
Nu.
They all must dye who may be feard in time
To be the heires vnto their kindreds crime,
All other punishments end with our breath,
But treason is pursude beyond our death,
Ch.
The wrath of Kings doth seldome measure keepe,
Seeking to cure bad parts they lance too deepe:
When punishment like lightning should appeare
To few mens hurt, but vnto all mens feare.
Great Elephants, and Lyons murther least,
Th' ignoble beast is the most cruell beast,
But all is well if by the mightie fall
Of this great man, the King be safely freed:
[Page]But if this Hydra of ambition shall
Have other heads, to spring vp in his ste [...]d
Then hath he made but way for them to rise,
Who will assault him with fresh trecheries.
The which may teach vs to obserue this straine,
T'admire high hills, but liue within the plaine [...]
FINIS.