LƲCIƲS ANNAEƲS SENECA His First Book, of CLEMENCY, written to Nero Caesar.
I Nero Caesar, have resolv'd to write
Of Clemency: to offer to thy sight
A Looking-glass, where thou thy selfe mayst view,
And reap the greatest joy that man ere knew.
For though it be the true fruit of good deeds
To know w'have done them, and that vertue needs
No praise but from it self: yet thoughts oft spent
On a good conscience yeild no small content;
And then to cast thine eyes upon the lewd,
Contentious, vile, pernicious multitude,
Which if at length it should cast off this yoke,
To mutuall bane each other would provoke:
And seriously within thy self to say:
The gods have cull'd me out the world to sway.
As their Vice-gerent: at my sole command
Both life and death, and all mens fortunes stand:
The fate of things depends on my decree,
Kingdoms receive their joy and griefe from me.
No country flourishes but by my smile.
These numerous Legions, which are quiet while
My peace restraines them, at my beck shall fight:
What Nations shall be ruinate dquite,
And what transplanted, what be free'd, what bound,
What Kings shall be led captive, and what crown'd,
What Cities built, what ras'd, belongs alone
To my transcendent jurisdiction.
In this so great a power, my wrath nere bent,
My will to any unjust punishment;
No youthful boldness, nor rash insolence,
That provokes patient minds, could mine incense:
Nor have I sought, like most great Kings, my name
T' advance by fear, and gain a dreadfull fame,
My sword lies sheath'd, or rather bound up still,
I have forborne the meanest blood to spill,
Men though they want abilities, are when
They come to me, welcome, because they are men,
Rigour's supprest, but mercy stands prepar'd:
I keep upon my selfe so strict a guard,
As to the Laws I an account should give,
Which would lie dead, but that by me they live;
Some for their youth, some for their age I spare:
For th'honour of their place some pittied are,
Some for their low condition: when I sinde
There can no other reason be assign'd,
Why I compassion should be mov'd to take.
I do it then at least for mine own sake.
Should the immortall gods require this day
Th' account for all man-kinde, I would obay.
This, Caesar, may with boldness be aver'd
That of all things thy birth-right hath confer'd,
Upon thy trust, and safe protection,
The Common-wealth through thee hath not lost one,
Either by force, or fraud, thou hast acquir'd
What scarse an other Prince hath yet desir'd,
The rarest of all vertues, innocence.
Nor hast thou laboured without recompence:
For this thy great and matchless worth hath found
Gratefull esteemers. So our thanks abound:
That no one man, could to an other come
More wisht for, then thou to the people of Rome,
Their great and lasting good. But loe thou hast
Upon thy selfe a mighty burthen cast,
For few speak now of holy Augustus reigne,
Or of Tiberius his first times: Tis vaine;
To seek for an example any where
But in thy selfe: we have a full tast there
Of what we may expect. Yet this were hard,
If hereunto thou wert not first prepar'd
By native goodness; no man hath sustaind
A borrow'd person long; things which are faind
Returne to their first habit: what hath grown
From truth, and, as I may so say, our owne
Well-grounded root, will gather strength by time,
And by degrees to more perfection clime.
The Romane people thought they under went
A mighty hazard, ere they knew the bent
Of such a noble spirit we now are
In full injoyment of our publike praire.
Nor can we doubt, thou't e're thy selfe forget;
For though too much felicity does whet
Our appetites to more: and though our mind
Is not so temp'rate, as to be confin'd
To any present good, but will proceed
From great to greater things: and that we feed
Upon new hopes, when we have gotten more
Than could by us be hoped for before:
Yet all thy subjects joyntly do profess,
To take such pleasure in their happiness,
That they for nothing do so much contend,
As that their happiness may have no end.
To which profession (though but seldom made
By any) these things chiefly them perswade:
The plenteous peace that they enjoy by thee:
And justice plac'd above all injury.
The blessedness of such a Government,
Where liberty is in its full extent:
And is not curb'd in any thing, unless
In what would ruine them, licentiousness.
But that wich does to admiration flow,
Is thy most equall Clemency: for though
All other benefits which men possess,
Are as their fortunes make them, more or less:
Yet from thy mercy all, expect the same.
Nor is there any that can lay such claime
To innocence, but he is glad to see
Mercy prepar'd, him from his faults to free.
However there be some who do maintain,
That bad men only do by mercy gaine:
Because it is not properly extended
To any, but to those who have offended:
And that among all vertues, this alone
Is that, which is to guiltless men unknown:
But yet as physick, though it be intended
But for the sick, is nere the less commended
By such as are in health: so Clemency,
Though it be sought by them on whom does lie
A guilt, yet it is had in reverence
By those who have committed no offence.
And guiltless men themselves nay stand in need
Of mercy; since some acts, that do proceed
From fortune, are made faults: and we may see
Vertue as well as innocence set free
By mercy: for in lewd and wicked times,
Praise-worthy deeds are punished as crimes:
Besides most men may become innocent;
Yet tis not fit to forbear punishment
To all: because confusion, and a source
Of vices follow, when we use remorse
To good and bad: and therefore it is fit
To make a difference, between a wit,
Thats curable, and that which is past cure,
In pardoning, this rule is alwaies sure:
Neither to be too rigid, nor remiss;
Because no less a cruelty it is,
To pardon all, then none: we must observe
A mean: but yet because w'are apt to swerve,
It is the noblest error to incline
To mercie, when we pass the equall line.
But for the present, these I'le lay aside:
And the whole matter in three parts divide.
The first shall be a preface to the rest:
The second shall the nature manifest,
And qualitie of mercy: for whereas
Some vices do for vertues often pass,
They cannot be distinguish'd, unless
We by some markes the difference express.
In the third place we will inquire the way
To get this vertue, and to make it stay,
And then convert it to our present use,
For this is certaine, that we cannot choose
Among all sorts of vertues any one,
That more becomes a man: for there is none
More sweet, and more humane: and is not so
To us alone, who have been brought to know
That man is found a sociable creature,
And molded for a common good by nature;
But even by those who give up man to pleasure,
And all their words and actions seem to measure
By their own profit. For if we desire
Repose and rest, this vertue will acquire
That which we seek; because it ever stands,
For peace and meekness, and binds up our hands,
But yet ther's none whom mercy so much graces,
As Kings and Princes: for in publike places,
Power is a glory, and an ornament;
Provided always that it be intent
Upon the peoples safety, but if power
Be hurtfull, like a plague it will devour.
No accident his greatness can remove,
Whom all men do confess to be above,
As well as for them: and whose diligence
They ever finde awake for the defence
Of every one, no less then the whole State;
Who when he comes abroad, is not with hate,
Shun'd like some savage beast rousd from her den,
But gaz'd upon by multitudes of men
Like a propitious star whose subjects strive,
(That by their death he may be kept alive)
To rush between him and a Traitors sword,
And that their constant watchings may afford
His person secure rest, they stand about
His gates by night, to keep all danger out.
Nor is it without reason, that such care
Is used by men, and nations every where,
To guard their Kings. Tis not a selfe-neglect
Or folly, that such multitudes protect,
And with destruction of their own, uphold
One head, and that perhaps both weake, and old:
For as the body is subservient
Unto the soul, and is more eminent
By that, and more conspicuous, and though
The soule lies close, but where we do not know:
Yet do the hands, and feet, and eyes consent
To serve her: and the skin's her muniment,
At her command we now lie down, then run;
And if that shee be covetous, we shun
No sea adventures; if ambitious,
Tis then a brave and glorious act for us,
To thrust our hands into the flaming sire,
Or leap into a gulf if shee require:
Even so this vast and numerous multitude,
Which does within it but one soul include,
Is dayly guided by that spirit alone,
And governd by the reason of that one:
And should [...]t counsell be forborn, would straite
Be ruind and distroye'd with it's own weight.
And therefore their own safety men regard
When in the camp so many stand prepar'd:
Each striving for the front, offers his brest
To wounds, lest th' Emprours standard be distrest.
He is the ciment that unites the State:
The vitall breath that does inanimate
So many millions: and without it, they
Would be a mutuall burthen, and a pray.
While the King lives, the people do accord:
But when he dies, they live but by the sword.
That accident will end the Romanes peace,
And make so great a Nations fortune cease.
The people will remaine without that feare
So long, as they the bridle know to beare:
Which if they once shall break, they will be shie
To take't againe, though chance did throw it by;
The bond and tie of this great government
Will into many peices soone be rent:
And Rome will finde, by wanting that direction,
An equall end of rule, and of subjection.
It is not any wonder then that Kings
And Princes, and each Magistrate that brings
Peace to State, should be belov'd above
Our common parents, whom we dearly love:
For if the publike be by honest men
Priz'd 'bove their private, it will follow then,
That he on whom the Common-wealth relies,
Should ever be most pretious in our eyes.
Caesar had heretofore within the State
So wrapt himselfe, that but to seperate
[...] was to destroy them both. As his good
Lay in their strength, so in a chiefe theirs stood.
But loe this speach is longer than I meant,
And yet I'm sure, it meets with our intent.
For if, as it appears, thou art the soul,
The State the body, then without controule,
Mercy is needfull: for while thou doest spare
Others, thou spar'st thy selfe. Then take thou care
Even of ill subjects, as of limbs decay'd:
And whensoever reason shall perswade
To draw some blood, let the incision be
No more then needs. Thus Clemency, we see,
Is naturall to all men: but renoun'd
In Princes, through whose powre it finds more ground
To work on: private rage extends not far,
The cruelty of Princes is a war.
For though all vertues do agree, and none
Is as the better, and more honest known:
Yet some may better with some persons sute;
Courage becomes even those, whose low repute,
Hath nothing under it: for what's more brave,
Than adverse fortune in contempt to have?
But yet this courage hath a larger place
In a high fortune, and receaves more grace
From Courts than Cottages. Mercy appeares
In no house, but it banishes all fears:
Yet tis more rare, and therefore more admired
In Princes Courts: for what can be desired
With greater wonderm [...], than to behold
A man, whose wrath is not to be controld,
To whose grave sentence they forthwith submit
That be condemn'd, and dare not question it?
And who if furious passion him have seas'd
May not intreated be, to be appeas'd:
To see, I say, this man himselfe arrest,
And his vast power convert into the best,
Saying within himselfe, to kill all have
Power without law, but only I to save.
Great fortune a great courage does require:
And if that flie not full as high or higher
Than she, it brings her also to the ground;
This property in greatnesse should be found,
To be delightfull, gentle, and to slight
Reproaches, and offences as too light
To be regarded, or look't down upon.
Tis womanish, in passion to run on:
And tis the property of beasts, that are
Not generous, with cruelty to tear
Such as lie on the ground. Whereas the rage
Of Elephants, and Lions will asswage,
When once they conquer. But th' ignoble race
Of Bears, and VVolves will dwell upon the place.
Feirce and unbounded anger ill befits
A King: for he not much above him sits,
Whom he his equall makes through wrathfull strife:
But if to men obnoxious he gives life,
Or restores honour, then he does a thing,
That appertaines to none but to a King.
Life may be taken from Superiours,
But never given but to Inferiours.
Tis proper to great Potentates to save,
Which never can more admiration have,
Then when they may; like gods, great favours give,
By whom we all both good and bad do live.
Then let a Prince, who should reain a minde
Like to the gods, be affable and kind,
To usefull and good subjects: and include
Others within the numerous multitude.
Let him rejoyce that some live in the State,
And let him also others tollerate.
Think how this City, in whose spatious streets
Such a continued throng of people meets;
Pressing each other, when some lets retard
Their passage; like a torrents course that's bard:
Wherein there is requir'd sufficient way
For three great Theaters, filed every day:
And where there is as much provision spent,
As out of the whole Empire can be sent;
Would be distrest, and brought to desolation,
If only they were left of the whole Nation,
Whom a remorslesse Judge thought fit to spare:
What insolent inquisitors will dare,
T' abide that Law, which they themselves exact?
Are not accusers guilty of the fact
Which they on others lay? we ever finde
Those men to pardon others least inclin'd,
Who have most needed pardon. Let's confesse
We have offended all, some more, some lesse;
Some of set-purpose, some by chance incited,
Or by an others wickednesse invited:
Some from their honest purposes have started
And 'gainst their wills from innocence have parted.
Nor can they only say, they did offend,
But must confesse, they shall even to the end.
And if there any be who have so purg'd
Their minds, that they by nothing can be urg'd
To commit faults, they certainly have gain'd
That innocence, by being often stain'd.
But seing we the gods have mention'd, I
That patterne to a prince may well apply:
Who to his subjects should be such, as he
Would willingly the gods to him should be.
Should then the gods take so severe a course,
As not to be intreated to remorse,
What other power could any King protect,
But that th' Inspector would his limbs collect?
But if those gentle powers can be content.
Not suddainly t' exact the punishment,
Of Princes crimes with thunder, Is it not
More just that they who have dominion got
Ore other men, should use with gentlenesse,
Their soveraignty, and cheerfully confesse,
The heavens to shew more gracefull in a bright
And Sun-shine day, than when no other light
Appears, but frequent flashes from the Skies,
VVhen all the world in a deep horror lies?
And certainly th' aspect of a mild State
The face of a clear skie does imitate.
A cruell Reigne is ever troublsome,
And full of darknesse, under which none come
But with a trembling and affrighted heart:
And he that causes all, will have his part.
A private person though he be involv'd
In stiffe revenge, is easily absolv'd,
For fearing to be hurt, he may resent
A wrong, or else p [...]rhaps he would disgrace prevent.
For it does rather cowardice appear,
Then Clemency, an injury to bear.
But he at whose command, revenge does lie,
Is mercifull, if he will passe it by.
Men in mean place may bend their fists, and may
Wrangle and braule, and openly give way
To anger. Among equalls strokes pass over,
But for a King intemp'rance to discover;
In un-beseeming words, or to expresse
Passion in cries, makes Majesty goe less.
Thou thinkst it much that the free talke that's us'd
By common people, is to Kings refus'd:
And such restraint, thou sayst, seemes to exclude
Empire, and rather slavery obtrude.
But is not this by tryall found to bee,
A slavery to us, and not to thee?
Their quality is diffrent that both shrowd
Themselves, and do continue in the crowd:
Whose vertues struggle long ere they be known,
And into darknesse are their vices thrown.
Thy words and deeds to rumor open are.
And therefore there is none should take more care
What fame they have, than they whose fame will fill
The spacious world, let it be what it will:
How many things are not permitted thee,
Which by thy favour we enjoy? 'Tis free
For me through every street to walke alone,
And need not fear, though waited on by none:
Although at home no armes I do provide,
Nor any sword be hanging at my side:
Thou in this time of peace, which thou dost give
To us, and to the world, must armed live.
And canst at no time from thy fortune part,
Which thee besieges, for where ere thou art
Pleas'd to remove, that followes with a traine.
And great men justly may of this complaine,
As of their highest servitude, that they
Cannot descend, but where they are, must stay.
But this necessity no lesse does bind
The gods then thee, who are to Heaven confind.
And to descend no more permitted bee,
By fates strict law, then it is safe for thee.
Thou to thy height art fixt. Our motions few
Observe, we goe, returne, our clothes renew
Without a publike notice what is done,
Thou canst no more be hidden then the Sun.
Thy person alwayes is with shining rayes
Invirond, upon which all people gaze.
Thinkst thou that thou com'st forth? no thou dost rise.
No sooner canst thou speak but thy voyce flies
Through every Country. Thou no sooner art
To anger mov'd, but every thing does start.
When thy proscription against one comes out,
There is a present trembling round abo [...]t;
As thunder falls but to a few mens harme,
Yet to the fear of many, so the arme
Of a chastising power, with terror awes,
More then with strokes; and not without a cause.
For he that can do all, is lookt upon,
As what he may doe, not what he hath done.
Besides, much suffering private persons brings
To suffer more with patience, but Kings
By Clemency finde a secure defence:
For though strict Justice stops the insolence
Of a few men, yet publike hate it draws,
In punishments the will, before the cause,
Should alwayes cease. For otherwise as Trees,
After th' are prun'd recover by degrees
A fair top: and as some plants we know,
Are often cut, thereby to make them grow:
So does a Princes cruelty augment,
And not the number of his foes prevent.
For parents, children, kindred, friends, substain
The places of those men whom he hath slaine.
How true this is, shall now be understood
By an example fetch'd from thine own blood.
Divine Augustus was a gentle Prince,
If him at least we shall consider since
He swayd alone the Scepter; for tis true,
While he with others rul'd, his sword he drew.
And having pass'd the age of eighteen years,
As thou hast now, he had, as it appeares
Suborn'd some friends with secret armes to lie
In wait, t' intrap the Consul Anthony:
And had his share in the Triumvirate.
But when his age arriv'd beyond the date
Of forty years, he, being in France, was told,
That Lucius Cinna a weak man, but bold,
Design'd his death: the manner, place, and when
T' was to be acted, was discovered then
By one of the confederates. His intent
Was to inflict on him sharp punishment,
But with his friends consulting what was best;
He could not in the night take any rest,
For thinking, that he was to ruine quite
A noble youth, and but for that upright,
Nephew to Pompey; so loth was he now,
T' have one man die: who could before avow
With Anthony at supper time a list
Of dire proscriptions. Thus did he persist
In sad and various thoughts. What then? Shall I
Suffer so treacherous an enemie
To walk secure, while I with cares am fraught?
And shall not he be punish'd that hath sought
Not only to destroy but sacrifice
This head (for it was then their joynt advice
To slay him at the Alter) that in vaine
Hath been so often threatned with the bane
Of civill wars: and having quite allayd
So many stormes at Land and Sea, hath made
Peace through the world: then, having paus'd a while,
He spake much louder, and did more revile
Himselfe then Cinna: wherefore dost thou live
If to so many men thy death will give
A benefit? what end will there be
Of rigour? what of blood? this head, I see,
Must be submitted to young nobles rage,
That they against it may their swords ingage.
Life is not so much worth, that unless I
Be now destroy'd so many men must die.
But his wife Livia interposing spake
Unto him thus: A woman's counsell take:
Doe like Physitians who are us'd to trie
When proper med'cines faile, the contrary.
Rigour hath yet stood thee in little stead:
For Lepidus Salvienus followed,
Muraena Lepidus, Muraena gon,
Caepio appear'd, and after him came on
Egnatius, for the rest I need not name,
Whose very attemps to mention were a shame:
Be therefore at the length content to try
What profit will arise from Clemency:
And pardon Lucius Cinna. He's made sure:
He cannot hurt, he may thy fame secure.
Augustus joyfull that his inward strife
Was stopt by this good counsell, thankt his wife.
And making it soon known to all those friends
He first consulted, he for Cinna sends:
And being come, he makes an other chaire
Be set for him, bidding the rest forbeare:
Cinna (said he) I do desire that thou
Wilt without interruption here me now:
And the mean while not into passion break:
Thou after shall have liberty to speak.
When thee I found in armes. not only made,
But borne my foe, I did my wrath perswade
To save thy life, and thy estate restore.
Nor is there at this day a man, that more
Abounds with wealth and happiness, so high,
That Conquerors the Conquerd do envy.
The Preist-hood I at thy request gave thee
Omitting those whose fathers joyn'd with me
In severall wars: and now thou goest about
To flay me, for my love. When he cry'd out,
May such a madnesse be by me abhord!
Caesar reply'd, Cinna, thou breakst thy word:
It was our first agreement thou shouldst not
Give interruption; thou I say dost plot,
To take away my life: he nam'd the place,
The day, and the associats, and did trace
The whole designe; nay he was so exact
He nam'd the man appointed for the fact.
And when he saw him dasht, and silent, now
Through guilt, not promise: what, said he, dost thou
Aime at in this? to be made Prince? alas,
The Common-wealth is but at an ill passe,
If only I obstruct thy way: tis known
Thou art not able to support thine own
House hold affaires. A man made newly free,
In a late private cause prevail'd gainst thee:
Can any thing be easier then to strive
With Caesar? but proceed, if I survive
To cross thy hopes alone. Canst thou suppose
Emilius, Fabius Maximus, and those
Sprung from the Cossi and Servilii
Will indure thee? such as do not relie
On empty names: whom their own worth prefers
And are an honour to their Ancestors?
But lest by rendring his whole speach, I make
A volume, know, two houres and more he spake,
And having so inlarg'd the punishment
With which alone he meant to be content:
Cinna said he, I give thee life once more,
A Parricide found now, a soe before.
Let friendship between us begin henceforth,
Let us contend whether shall shew most worth,
I in bestowing, thou in owing life.
He after made him Consull, and the strife
Was that he durst not ask it: to the end
Cinna remaind his true and faithfull friend:
And made him his sole heir. From that time none
T' have ploted gainst Augustus life was known.
Thy great grand fathers father pardoned those
Whom he subdued; how else could he suppose
There would be any left, ore whom to reigne?
From the foes party, he did Salust gain,
And the Cocceians also drew off then,
And the Duillians, with that band of men,
Who in so great fidelity persisted,
That they into his own Life-guard were listed.
Beside, at that time [...] the Domitians,
With the Messala's, and Asinians,
The Ciceronians, and the flower of Rome
To his great mercy debters were become.
How long did he keep Lepidus alive,
And him of Princely titles not deprive?
From taking the High-Priesthood he abstain'd,
So long as Lepidus in life remaind.
For he that purer honour would not soile
So much, as that it should be cal'd a spoyle.
This mercy his estate and life assur'd,
And more good will and more esteem procurd,
Although he had not fully laid his hand
On Rome, which yet had stoopt to no command;
And at this day preserves him in such fame,
As that no Prince alive the like can clame.
For with the gods we ranke him, not because
We are hereto enjoyned by the Lawes,
But that we so believe. And we confesse
Augustus a good Prince, whose worthiness
Deserv'd that attribute, his Countries Farther:
For which we can no better reason gather,
Then that he us'd no cruell punishment
Gainst contumelie, which great men resent
Above an injury: that he reproaches slighted:
And that he thought the punishment still lighted
Upon himself, which he on others laid:
And finding th' honour of his house betrayd,
By his own daughters lewd adulteries,
That he could those indignities dispise:
And did not only not the adulterers slay,
But with a safe-conduct sent them away.
This is the height of pard'ning, when tis known
That there are many would thy anger own,
And to please thee, be willing not to spare
The blood of those whom thou shalt once declare,
To be offenders, and yet thou to give
Both pardon, and protection to live.
These things Augustus in his age, I finde,
Did do, or when he towards age inclin'd.
Who in his youth was hot, with anger boyl'd:
Whose thoughts, from many things he did, recoyl'd.
Tween thee and gentle Augustus none dares make
Comparison for mercy, though he take
Th' advantage of his age more than mature;
It cannot with thy youth the test indure.
His mercie and meekness often times were try'd:
Yet after he the Achan sea had die'd
With Roman blood: yet after he had lost
His own and other navies on the coast
Of Sicilie: yet after so much guilt
Of blood, on the Perusian altars spilt,
And by proscriptions. This do not I
Call mercy, but a weary'd cruelty.
Thine is true mercy, Caesar, which began
Not from repented cruelty, nor can
Be taxed with the staine of civil blood.
In so great height of power thou hast made-good
Thy temprance, and unspeakable good will
To man; and art not taynted with the ill
Of avarice or rashness, or th' example
Of former Kings, who on mens necks did trample:
And their great power with rigour did dilate.
But thou the edge of Empire dost abate.
Thou, Caesar, hast thy Rome unbloody made.
And as thou hast with noble boasting sayd,
No part of the whole world one drop hath lost
Of humane blood by me: and which is most
To be admir'd, none ever had command,
Or had the sword put sooner in his hand:
And therefore mercy as well safety brings,
As great esteem: and is no lesse to Kings,
Secure than glorious. When they aged die
Their Kingdomes come to their posteritie:
The government of Tyrants is both short,
And detestable. Say then, in what sort
Do Kings and Tyrants differ; for we know
Their power is equall, and the same in show?
A tyrant cruell is out of meer will,
A King but through necessitie: both kill:
The one as oft as publique good requires:
Th' other of himselfe mens deaths desires.
A tyrant differs from a King in deeds
And not in name. He that the story reads
Of the elder Dionysius, will finde,
That he in merrit did not come behind
Most Kings: And wherefore should he doubt to call
Sylla a Tyrant, who his rage let fall
When there were no foes left with him to strive,
Whom he of life and fortune might deprive?
And though he the Dictatorship lay'd down,
And like a private man resum'd the gown,
Yet what fierce tyrant ever was so curst,
Or ere drank humane blood with so much thirst?
At whose command (which nothing could restrain)
Seaven thousand Roman Cittizens were slain.
And when the Senate, being together met,
And in the Temple of Bellona set
Within the hearing of those men that groan'd
Under the sword, their misery bemoan'd:
Fathers conscript (sayd he) let us proceed;
These are a few seditious men that bleed
By my appointment. What he said was true:
For they to Sylla seemed but a few.
But we hereafter shall from Sylla know,
What anger we to enemies should show:
Especially to those that have forsaken
Their fellow Cittizens, and on them taken
The name of foes. In the mean time tis cleer,
That mercy makes the difference appear
Between a King and tyrant: though both have
Their guards, yet in one is guarded but to save
Peace from disturbance; th' other to restrain
Great hatred with great fear, and is in pain
And jealousie while he beholds those bands,
Though he commit himself into their hands;
Thus contraries 'gainst contraries are rear'd.
For as he hated is because he's feard,
So 'cause he's hated hee'll be feard: and then
That wicked saying, whereby many men
Have been destroyd, he uses. Let them hate
So that they fear not minding with what weight
Rage falls on him, when hatred swells too high.
For temp'rate fear bold thoughts does qualifie:
But when it is continuall, and growes
Into extremity, it moves even those
That lie upon the ground to rise, and try
With daring boldness th' utmost remedy.
Though savage beasts be compast with a net:
Yet if the hunters then upon them set,
They will attempt to flie through what they fled:
And furiously upon their fear will tred.
That resolution is not to be shaken,
Which from extream necessity is taken.
Fear must hold forth some safety, and suggest
More hope then harme: they that would quiet rest,
If they be still in danger, will forbear
No hazard, but will rush on them they fear.
A constant guard a peacefull King secures,
By which the common safety he assures.
A gallant souldier being still prepar'd
To defend peace, stands as his fathers guard.
But he that guards a bloody tyrant, stands
As if he carryed danger in his hands.
We cannot in those ministers confide,
Whom we imploy but only to provide
Gibbets, and racks, and instruments to slay:
To whom as to wild beasts men are a prey.
A tyrant, lives in more anxietie,
Then any of those who he condemnes to dy:
For his own conscience threatens him with rods
Of direfull vengeance, both from men and gods.
And is reduc'd to that condition,
He cannot mend, but must in ill goe on.
Great cruelty hath this which is the worst
Of villainy, that to proceed tis forc't.
And finds no way left open of regresse;
For wickedness must strengthen wickednesse.
And what can be a greater misery,
Then to be wicked through necessitie?
O wretched hee, but to himselfe bove all!
(And they into an odious guilt must fall
That pitie him) who uses his great power
With rapines, and with slaughters to devour.
That every where lookes with suspicious eyes,
And fearing weapons, to dire weapons flies:
That doubts the faith of nearest friends, is shie
Of his own childrens tender piety.
And when both what he hath, and will effect
He so considers, that he does reflect
Upon his conscience full of crimes and frights,
He often fears, and oftner death invites.
And is t' himselfe more odious then to those,
Who by their service are at his dispose.
But he on th' other side, whose care is bent
To the whole State, (though it be more intent
To one part then an other, yet ther's none,
Wheron he does not look as on his own,)
Ever inclines to mercy: And when need
Requires his stricter Justice to proceed,
He shews with what unwillingness he's brought
To sharper remedies: whose gentle thought
No rancour entertains, nor hostile rage,
But does his power with mild commands aswage.
Who to his subjects labours to approve
His government, with gentleness, and love.
And thinks himselfe happy enough, if hee
Communicates his own felicity.
Courteous in speach, and easie of accesse,
And that which peoples hearts does most possesse,
Retains a clear and loving countenance:
And as he seekes all just desirs t' advance,
So neither is he cruell to unjust:
But hath a speciall intrest in the trust
Of all his subjects, whom, from inward sense
They love, defend, and truly reverence.
Of whom the people speak the same at home
They do abroad, all seeking to become
Fathers of children: wishing barrennesse,
Caused in time of civill wars, might cease:
And hoping they their children shall ingage
The more, because th' are born in such an age.
This Prince by his own benefit secur'd,
Needs not to be in Cittadells immur'd:
And though he have his guards, yet they are meant
Not for defence, but for an ornament.
What is his dutie then? the very same
Of a good father: who sometimes does blame
His children with mild words, somtimes with threats,
And them, if they be stubborn, sometimes beats.
Who having sense, his sonne will disinherit
For the first fault? unlesse his lewd demerit
By many enormities his patience moves:
Unlesse he feares beyond what he reproves,
His resolution, is not easily bent
To wipe his name out of his Testament.
He many tryalls makes, to work upon
The doubtfull disposition of his sonne,
Although he fears him gon so far past shame,
That he his nature hardly can reclame:
But when he finds him desperat, he flies
With resolution to extremities.
Hope makes him use all meanes that helpfull are;
Extremities accompany dispaire.
What Parents do, a Prince should do the same:
Whom we the Father of his Country name,
Not with vaine flattery: for we apply
All other sirnames to his dignity.
We call him happy, great, and royall; use
All titles, which proud majesty would choose:
But Father of his Country makes it known,
That he thereby a Fathers power must own:
Which is a mild authority, confer'd
For childrens sakes, whose good should be preferr'd
Before his own. A father makes not hast
To cut off his own limbs; and if at last
He does it, he would them again restore:
And in the very action does deplore
His losse so long delayd: for when a fact.
Is quickly don, tis near a willing act:
And too much punishing, suspition drawes,
That the chastiser does it without cause.
Within our memory a Roman Knight
Erixo, was run through in open fight,
With writing-pins, because he scourg'd his sonne
To death with rods. Nor could the rage begun
By fathers, and by children, have been stayed,
But that Augustus power the fame alay'd.
When Titus Arius plainly had descri'd,
That his sonne meant to become paricide,
He punisht him with exile: which decree
Was much extold by all, by reason he
Was so indulgent, as to be content
In such a crime, with only banishment,
And that an easie one; for he confind
Him to Marselles, and with all assign'd
The pension to him, which he had enjoy'd
Before his guilt. This bounty did avoid,
(Even in that City where no lewd offence
Wants patronage) all thought of innocence
In him, whom in so great and high debate,
His father could condemn, and yet not hate.
We by this fit example will now gather,
How a good Prince, agrees with a good Father.
Arius intending of this crime t' inquite,
The counsell of Augustus did desire.
VVho to his house at his request repair'd,
And with a private man in counsell shar'd:
Not saying let him come to me, for so,
The Judgment which from that consult should grow,
VVould have been Caesars, and not his. The cause
Being discuss'd according to the Lawes,
And th' allegations of both parties heard;
Caesar, before his sentence he declar'd,
Caus'd every Judge his verdict to write down,
Least th' Emprors Vote might seem to be their own.
Then ere the bookes were opened, he did swear,
That he had no intent to be the heire
Of wealthy Arius. Here some abject spirit
VVill say, he feard to shew a hope t' inherit
The fathers goods, by the sonnes condemnation.
But I think otherwise. For in relation
To a good conscience, we should make defence
Gainst ill opinions, by firme confidence:
And Princes ought especially to looke
Upon their fame; a solemn oath he took,
That he would not inherit his cstate.
By which meanes Arius had that day the sate
To lose an other heir. But the decree
Of Caesar, was declared to be free:
Who after he had made it evident
That he by his opinion never meant
To make a benefit, (a care that ought
To be establisht in a Princes thought)
He sentenced the son to be confind,
Only according to his fathers minde.
Not that he should into the sack be put,
Or thrown forth among serpents, or be shut
In some close Goale: nor had he so much thought
Of him he consur'd, as of him that brought
Him to his counsell. It is fit, said he,
That the most easie punishment should be
Inflicted by a father on a sonne,
Young, and seduced to a crime, not done,
But (which to innocence comes very neer)
Not entertain'd, But with reluctant fear;
Yet that he ought to be remov'd of right
Both from the City, and his fathers sight:
O Prince whose counsell should be still implor'd
By fathers in their need, and be ador'd!
O Prince deserving for his tender care,
With all distressed sonnes to be co-heire!
This, a Kings mercy justly may be stil'd,
That where he present is, makes all things mild.
And no man should to him appear so vile,
But he should also be in trouble while
He suffers, who, howere unfortunate,
Is yet a part and member of the State.
Great Empire may admit comparison
With smaller powers: for there are more than one:
Princes their subjects rule, fathers beare sway
Over their children, Masters to obay
Do teach their Schollers, Captains to their bands
Of soldiers, daily send forth their commands.
Who would not blame that father, which for light
Offences does his children beat and fright?
Which of those tutors hath the worthier parts,
Or is most fit to teach the liberall arts?
He that his schollers fleas, because they stick
Upon some words, their sight not being quick:
Because their memories do sometimes faile:
Or he that rather chooses to prevaile
With admonitions, and to reprehend
With modesty, thereby to make them mend?
A Captaine that too cruell is, will make
His soldiers out of hatred him forsake,
And justly too; for why should we forbear
To be to beasts, yet not to men, severe?
A skilful rider when he tames a horse,
Seekes not to do't with frequent blowes, and force,
But with soft stroking, and a gentle hand,
Lest he grow restie, and refuse command.
A hunter, trayning up young dogs to hunt,
Makes use of older hounds which have been wont
To trace wild beasts: nor does he often rate
The young ones, lest their mettle should abate
By a degenerate feare, or make them run
Quite from the rest, their masters rage to shun.
Nay duller cattle that to toyle are bred,
When they are too much goard, and threatned,
The yoake and burthen will decline. No creature
Is so untractable as man by nature:
And therefore he should alwayes be prepar'd
VVith greater industry, and be more spar'd.
For whats more foolish than to be asham'd
Of rage, when beasts and dogs are to be tam'd?
Yet think that man by terror should be forc't,
As if a mans condition were the worst.
VVe cure diseases without anger: this
Disease of minde not to be cured is
By hatred to the patient: he is sure
No good Physitian who dispaires to cure.
He by whom subjects ought to be protected,
Should gently deale with those who are affected
In minde: and not the signes of death declare,
And suddainly turne hope into despaire.
But he should strive with vices, and contend:
Some for their error he should reprehend,
And others with soft remedies beguile,
Deceiving, but yet curing them the while.
And not to heale alone must be the care
Of Princes, but to leave no shamefull scar.
Severe and cruell punishments can bring
At no time any glory to a King:
For who his power will question? but he gaines
Highest renown, when he his power restrains:
VVhen many he preserves from others rage,
And against no man does his own engage.
It is a praise to bear a gentle hand
Over our slaves: for even in that command
VVe ought to weigh, not what the lawes permit,
But what for us in equity is sit.
VVhich bids us spare our vassales, and with-hold
Our rage from slaves, that are both bought and sold.
How much more equitable is it then,
Not to make slaves of free and honest men?
Who though inferiours do not owe subjection
Unto thy will, but unto thy protection.
A statue is a refuge for a slave:
And though ore him full power by law we have,
Yet there is something in the creatures law,
That in behalfe of man keeps man in awe.
Who did not Vedius Pollio as much hate
As did his slaves, because he us'd to bait
His Lampreys with mans flesh? when the least fault
Was by a save committed, he was caught
And thrown into his fish pond, and expos'd,
As it had been to Serpents there inclos'd.
O wretch deserving to be stucken dead
A thousand times! whether that he so fed
The Lampreys which he after meant to eat,
Or kept them only to make men their meat.
As cruell Lords when they abroad are seen
Are pointed at, and do provoke the spleen
Of all beholders: so the infamy
Of cruell Princes far and near does fly,
And the uncessant hatred of their crimes
Remaines upon record to after times:
Were it not better such had not been borne,
Than borne to publike bane? what can adorne
A man of power like mercy, in what way
So ever he is set to beare the sway?
For we must needs confesse that what proceeds
From greatest power, most admiration breeds,
Which cannot hurtfull be unlesse it swerve
From natures law, and will not that observe.
For nature first ordain'd a King; as we
In other creatures, and in Bees may see.
Whose King is centr'd in the safest place,
And has t' himselfe a rome of larger space.
Hes also freed from labour, and remaines
As a count-taker of the others paines.
And as good orders kept whille he's alive,
So does his death wholy dissolve the hive.
Nor do they ever suffer more than one,
Which for his courage chosen is alone.
Besides as his condition is the best,
So is his shape and forme above the rest:
But the chiefe difference is, that though by nature
A Bee appeares a very angry Creature,
And to the modell of it's body, prone
To fight on any provocation,
VVith so much furiousnesse, that it is found
To leave the sting behind it in the wound.
Yet contrary to all the rest, the King,
Is ever found to be without a sting.
For nature would that he should heither bear
Malice, nor take revenge, that costs so deare:
Shee him of an offensive sting bereft,
VVhereby his anger shee unarmed left.
This is a maine example to great Kings,
For nature is accustom'd in small things
T' exalt her selfe, who unto man presents
From flightest subjects, weighty'st arguments.
VVhy should we therefore be asham'd to learne
From little creatures? since it does concerne
A man so much the more his minde to charme
VVith temprance, as 'tis apter to do harme.
For my part I could wish that law deriv'd
To men, that they of anger were depriv'd,
Together with their swords: and that they might
Do hurt but once: not make their hatred fright
With others strength. Fury would soone decay,
Had it no other hand to help to slay,
And that it could not be reveng'd, unlesse
It hazarded it selfe in the successe.
Nor is a Tyrants danger thereby clear'd,
For he must fear as much as he'd be fear'd:
And must observe the hands of all, and though
He be not aim'd at, must not think it so,
But be suspicions slave without release;
Nor can his fear for any moment cease:
Why should a man so sick a life indure,
When he may lead, and be in that secure,
A harmlesse life? and when he may employ
His saving power to all the peoples joy.
He errs that thinks a King may be safe there,
Where nothing from a King is safe. Tis cleare,
Security does alwayes most relie,
Upon a mutuall securitie.
There is no need of strong and lofty Towers,
Built on high hills, t' oppose offensive powers:
To dig huge mountaines round, to make them steep:
Or into double trenched holds to creep.
Mercy guards Kings wheres'ever they resort.
The love of subjects is the only fort
That is impregnable. What can befall
A King like this, to be pray'd for by all?
Not only when an Officer is near:
But when no other present is to hear.
And if his health a little be impair'd,
Fear and not hope of change is then declar'd
By all his subjects: who, his safty prize:
And all that's theirs compar'd with that dispise,
Who think no accident can him betide,
Which they 'tween him and them must not divide.
Mean time he by these daily arguments
Of mutuall goodnesse, hereunto consents:
That, as each vertuous prince hath still mantain'd,
He for the State, not that for him's ordain'd.
Who against this man mischiefe dares attempt?
Or (if it could be) would not him exempt
From all mis-haps, under whom Justice, Peace,
Safty, and honour florish and increase?
Through whom the City with great riches fraught
Hath all the benefits that can be thought:
Which viewing him like joy does apprehend,
As if the gods vouchsafed to descend:
Looking upon their Sovereign with an eye,
Of reverence, and devotion. For why?
Should he not be accounted to be near
The gods themselves, that does their nature bear?
And is like them both mild and liberall,
His power imploying to the good of all.
A King chastises out of two respects,
When either he some great offence detects,
T' have been committed 'gainst himselfe, or when
It is committed against other men.
I'll first clear that wherein himselfe's concern'd.
for moderation is more hardly learn'd
When his revenge to wrath is more a debter,
Than to example, whereby men grow better.
Tis here superfluous to be put in minde
To shun a light beleife, to seek to finde
And know the truth, to favour innocence,
Whereby the Judge may seem to have a sense
Of his own fame, which else would be as far
In danger, as the prisoner at the bar;
But this is found to be the propertie
Of Justice, rather than of Clemency.
We now advise that passions be supprest
In provocations that are manifest:
And (if it may be safe) to be content
To pardon and remit the punishment.
And to be exorable in his own,
Not in an others injury alone.
For as to bounty, it no whit relates,
To be profuse in other mens estates:
And as he's liberall that alwayes throwes
That from himselfe, which he on men bestowes.
So does not Clemency to him belong,
VVho is indulgent in anothers wrong.
But he is mercyfull, that does refraine
From a revenge, in midst of his own paine.
VVho knows his minde arriv'd to the full height,
VVhen he in greatest power a wrong can slight.
And thinks a Prince with highest glory crown'd,
VVhen oft provokt, he still is gentle found.
Two benefits seem from revenge t' arise:
Him that hath wrong it either satisfies,
Or is a safety to the rest. A Prince
Enjoys a fortune of more consequence,
Than that he should on such a helpe depend:
And his known power much farther does extend,
And is more clear, than that he should be faine
To make it clearer by an others bane.
This my discourse is of a Prince intended,
That is by his inferiours offended.
For where he finds those that his equalls were
Standing beneath him, his revenge is there
A slave, a serpent, and a dart have slain
A King, but no man justly can maintaine
He saved any, but that he in power
To him he sav'd, must be superiour;
And therefore he a noble use should make
Of what a [...]ity the gods bestowd, power both to take
And to give life: and chiefly towards those
VVho formerly his greatness did oppose.
For having got the soveraignty, tis proofe
That he thereby hath got revenge enough:
And hath attaind to all that can be meant,
By the full benefit of punishment.
For he that owes his life, hath lost it: he
That is compelld to beg upon his knee
His life and Kingdom, must be fain to live
A Trophy to his name that life did give:
And being safe, he does his fame more right,
Than if he had been carry'd from his sight:
For he a daily spectacle remaines,
By which the vertue of an other gaines
An endlesse fame: whereas had he been lead
In triumph, he had quickly vanished.
And if he safely could his power restore,
And give him back all that he lost before,
His honour would exceedingly increase:
And he would manifest by that release,
That he desir'd to take no other thing,
But only glory from a vanquisht King.
This is to triumph ore his victory,
And to declare to all the world that he
Found nothing in a conquer'd hand, that might
Th' acceptance of a conqueror invite.
But as for Citizens, and men unknown,
And others of a mean condition,
No vengeance should be taken upon such,
Lest honour seem thereby to stoop too much.
Some thou must pardon willingly, to some
Thou must disdaine that thy revenge should come:
Whom, though they vex, thou must forbear no lesse
To kill; than we some vermin for their filthinesse.
But touching those which in the publicke eye
May be condemn'd, or set at liberty,
It will be fit, that thou shouldst not refuse
Thy wonted mercy towards them to use.
But let us passe to others injuries,
In punishing whereof the law relies
On these three things, which Princes should intend,
That them whom they chastise they may amend;
Or others by their sad example cure;
Or else by cutting off the bad, assure
The safety of the rest. The first will be
With smaller punishments reform'd by thee.
For having something left whereto to trust,
They in their future wayes will be more just:
Since there is little reason to take care
Of honour, or estate that's in despaire.
And tis a kind of freedome from the law
T' have nought to lose; such men stand not in aw:
And for the rest, a Cities manners are
Soonest reform'd, when punishments be rare.
For where offenders grow to a multitude,
A custome of offending does intrude.
And frequent condemnations will abate
The infamy of lewdnesse in a State.
And rigour, which is held the cheife redresse,
Is by continuance regarded lesse.
A Prince reformes ill manners, and does heal
Vices more easily in the common-weal,
VVhen he is mild and patient, not as though
He did approve them, but thereby to show
That he is brought with very much regret,
And quite against his will his sword to whet.
The very mercie of a Prince revokes
Offenders from their usuall crimes, as strokes
VVhich from a mild and gentle hand proceed,
Do commonly more shame and sorrow breed.
Besides thou seest how often men are led
T' offend, though they be often punished.
Thy father more employd the fatall sack
In five yeares space, than they who shall look back
To all time past, will finde was ever don:
For children did not into vice so run,
As to commit the worst of crimes, untill
The law made that a crime. It was the will,
And prudence of those famous men that were
Most skild in natures secrets, to forbeare
To mention that detested wickednesse,
VVhich no straind impudence knew how t' express,
Lest by ordaining punishment for it,
T' had shew'd that some might such a crime commit.
By that Law therefore paricides were taught,
And punishment that wickednesse first brought.
All piety fell quickly to the ground,
After more sacks then gallowses were found.
That cities thought to goodnesse much addicted,
Where punishments but rarely are inflicted.
Integrity is therein understood
To be retained as a publike good.
A Common-wealth that does so far proceed,
To think it selfe sincere, is so indeed.
And is offended more with them that fall
From publike thrift, because their numbers small.
Tis dangerous, believe me, to declare
To any Citie, how much ill men are
In number more than good. By a decree
Slaves were to be distinguisht from the free
By their apparell. But it soon appeard
What danger to the State was to be fear'd,
If to our slaves our number once were known.
So should we fear, if thou should'st pardon none.
T' would to the City soon be manifest
How much the lewder part out weigh'd the rest.
By many punishments like shame befalls
A Prince, as doth by many funeralls
Befall Physitians. Most men have a mind
By nature stubburne, to resist inclind.
It strives more when we chafe, than when we sawn;
And followes far more easily than tis drawn:
As generous horses sooner are reclam'd
By gentle bits, so willing minds are fram'd
To follow mercy of their own accord.
To which the City freely will afford
Kinde entertainment, and thereof accept
As of a thing most worthy to be kept.
And therefore in this way more profit will
Arise, for cruelty's no human ill.
It is a bestiall fury to delight
In blood and slaughter, and to throw off quite
Th' essentiall qualities of humane nature,
And transmigrate into a savage creature.
Here I (O Alexander) faine would know
What difference tis Lysimacus to throw
Forth to a Lyon, or else not forbear
With thine own teeth in pieces him to teare:
That throat is thine, that cruelty thine own.
How heartily thou'd'st wish thy nailes were grown
To Talons, and that thou could'st stretch thy jawes,
To devour those thou catchest in thy pawes.
We wish not that thy hand, (thy best friend's bain)
Should mercy towards any entertaine.
Or thy fierce heart (destructive to mankind.)
Should without blood-shed satisfaction finde.
Tis mercy cal'd when he his friends would kill,
That men be brought to execute his will:
This renders rage abominable, when
It first breakes wonted, then the bounds of men.
It seekes new torments, studies severall wayes,
And Instruments of cruelty displayes,
Whereby it varies, and inlarges pain,
And fetches pastime out of human bane.
That dire disease of minde comes to the height,
Of madnesse, when in blood it takes delight.
And hath so far proceeded, that it can
Take pleasure in the ruine of a man.
Destruction, hatred, poyson, swords attend
At this mans back to bring him to his end.
By whom as many dangers still are feard,
As he for many often hath prepard.
Somtimes from private plots, at other times
Through open detestation of his crimes.
For light and private mischeifes doe not raise
Whole Cities; but when wickedness displaies
It selfe with rage, and threatens all, tis met
By multitudes, and round about beset;
Small Serpents creep away: When one's beheld
So great, that tis into a monster sweld:
When with its breath it poysons common springs,
And where it goes, destroyes, and venome flings:
It is with crosse-bows shot at. Petty ills,
Deceive and scape, not much against our wills,
But great ones are oppos'd. So is a house
Not shun'd by any, nor thought dangerous,
VVhen one alone is sick. But if 't appeare
By frequent deaths to be the Plague, a fear
Possesses the whole Town; from whence men flie,
And to the gods with lifted hands do cry.
So when a fire a private house does sease,
Servants and neighbours bringing water, ease
The rest of trouble, quenching it alone.
But when the flame is to a vastnesse grown,
And many buildings burnt, it is put out
With devastion of what's round about.
Sometime the cruelty of private men
Hath been reveng'd by servile hands, even when
Their death was certaine. People, Nations,
And all that have to Tyrants had relations.
And have endur'd, or feard their cruell rage,
Have in their ruine ventur'd to ingage.
Their very guards have risen up at length,
And all the hatred; cruelty, and strength
Of impiousnesse, which they by them were taught,
They on the Authors back again have brought.
For what good expectation can be had
From them; whom we instructed to be bad?
Iniquity obays not long, nor will
Be alwayes at command in doing ill.
But lets imagine cruelty secure:
Yet what a Kingdom must that Prince indure?
A Realme that like a City sack't, does wear
The dishiall face of universall fear.
Where all's confus'd and sad, and no delight
Can be enjoy'd without continuall fright.
Where feasts afford no safety, but among
His cups, each must set watches on his tongue:
Nor publike shew wherein occasion's sought
T' have men both into crimes and dangers brought.
And though they be set forth with great expence,
With wealth of Kings, by men of excellence.
Yet upon whom should folly so prevaile,
To seeke to goe from sports into a Gaile?
What wickednesse is this (good Gods) to slay,
And suffer cruell rage to bear such sway,
As not to have a sense of human paines,
And to delight in ratling of chaines,
And in be-heading men? to come no where
Without much blood-shed, bringing terror there.
How could our lives be worse if we were rul'd
By Lyons, and by Bears? or if we should
Be governed by serpents, and each creature
That lives by blood, and abhors man by nature.
These void of reason and condemn'd by us
For cruelty are never furious
To their own kinde: 'mong them similitude
Is safe and is not bloodily pursu'd.
But among men not kindred is excus'd,
Allies like strangers are by Tyrants us'd,
That by particular slaughters they may grow,
Whole kingdomes by degrees to overthrow.
Who, to sire Towns, old Cities to devoure,
And plow up the foundations, think it power.
And count it not imperiall to kill
But now and then: and that unless they fill
Themselves with blood of many men ordaind
T' indure the stroke, think cruelty restraind.
But he that many saves, and does restore
To life such as lie gasping at deaths dore,
Merits by Clemency a high renown,
And worthily deserves the Civique Crown.
Then which no ornament can more beseem
A Princes head, or gain him more esteem:
Upon whose Gate this Motto is ingrav'd
In Characters, For having Subjects sav'd:
No Chariot red with blood of barbrous Kings,
No spoyle of conquered foes such honour brings:
Tis divine power to save by Troops in view
Of all the world: but many to pursue
VVith cruelty, and that without respect,
Of fire and sword, the power is, and th' effect.