the Gods Their providence as partiall would condemne Who in such sorte doe exercise their rods He thus now kill'd with life to let me goe May breed reproch to all the pow'rs divine But ah they knew no death could grieve me soe As that which through his heart was aim'd at mine Now all the world those deities may despise Which strike the guiltlesse and the guilty spare Cease haplesse man to plague thy selfe thus wise I pardon thee and pittie thy despaire Adrast. O rigorous judgement O outragious fate Must I suruive the funeralls of my fame All things which I behold vpbraide my state Too many monuments of one mans shame All and none more then I my deeds detest Yet some waile want of friends and I of fâ—es To purge the world of such a dangerons pest Which still contagious must taint hearts with woes To wound this brest where all hells hosts do raigne Seiz'd with just feare none dare a hand forth stretch Else this base charge as odious doe disdaine To deale with Death in favour of a wretch Or must I yet till more detested stand And fill the world with horrour of my name What further mischiefe can require my hand Must it ingrave on others graves my shame Or would some bastard thought lifes cause debate Which in the blasted field of comfort gleanes No no in spite of Heaven I 'le force my fate One when resolv'd to die cannot want meanes Proud Tyrant Death and must thou make it strange To wrap my wearied soule in further strife Vnlesse my courage with my fortune change Though nothing else I can command my life But this ay me all hope of helpe devowres What gaines my soule by death in those sad times If potent still in all her wonted pow'rs Shee must remember of my odious crimes What though un-bodied she the world forsake Yet from her knowledge cannot be divorc'd This will but vexe her at the shadowie lake Till even to grone the God of Ghosts be forc'd But welcome death and would the Gods I had Lesse famous or more fortunately liv'd Then knowne if good and kept obscure if bad Of comfort quite I had not beene depriv'd Ah! have I liv'd unnaturall I to be My brothers murtherer who me dearely lov'd Ah! have I liv'd with my owne hands to kill A gallant Prince committed to my charge And doe I gaze on the dead bodie still And in his fathers sight my shame enlarge Ah! have I liv'd whilst men my deeds doe scan To be the obiect of contempt and hate Of all abhorr'd as a most monstrous man Since thought a Traitouror farre worse ingrate Yet with my blood I 'le wash away this staine Which griefe to you to me disgrace hath brought Would God my name from mindes â—ight â—aâ—'d remaine To make my life as an unacted thought Brave Atis now I come to pleade for grace Although thou frown'st on my affrighted Ghost And to revenge thy wrong this wound embrace Thus thus I toile to gaine the Stygian coast Cho. Loe how he wounds himselfe despising paine With leaden lights weake legs and head declin'd The bodie beates the ground as in disdaine That of her members one hath prov'd unkind The fainting hand falles trembling from the Sword With his selfe slaughtering blow for shame grown red Which straight the blood pursues with vengeance stor'd To drowne the same with the same floods it shed Who of those parties can the combat show Where both but one one both strooke and sustain'd Or who triumphs for this most strange o'rethrow Where as the victor lost the vanquish'd gain'd Croe Curs'd eyes what suddaine change hath drown'd your lights And made your mirthfull objects mournefull now Ye that were still inur'd to stately sights Since seated under an imperiall brow Ah! clouded now with vapours drawn from cares Are low throwne down amid'st a hell of griefe And have no prospect but my soules despaires Of all the furies which afflict me chiefe O dead Adrastus I absolve thy Ghost Whose hand I see some destiny did charme Thou hated by the heavens wast to thy cost A casuall actour not intending harme No doubt some angry God hath laid this snare And whilst thy purpose was the Boare to kill Did intercept thy shaft amidst the Aire And threw it at my Sonne against thy will Ah! Sonne must I be witnesse of thy death Who view thee thus by violence to bleede And yet want one on whom to poure my wrath To take just vengeance for so vile a deede This wretch whose guiltlesse minde hath clear'd his hand Loe for his errour griev'd unforc'd doth fall And not as one who did in danger stand For still he liv'd till I forgave him all Thus have I but the heavens on whom I may Blast forth the tempest of a troubled minde And in my soules distresse I grieve to say That greater favour I deserv'd to finde Act 4. Scene 1. Sandanis Croesus WHy spend you Sir with sighes that Princely breath Whence Soveraignty authority should take O weake revenge for one when wrong'd by death To yeeld him homage prostrated in blacke That Tyrant pale so hatefull unto us Whose fatall shaft so great a griefe hath bred Where he triumphs should you reare trophees thus And weare his livery as his captive led No though he might this outward blisse o'rethrow And you save you of all things else might spoile Yet whilst of one who yeelds no signe you show You are victorious and he gets the foile Those floods of sorrow which would drown your soule In brests more base might better be excus'd Since wanting sprite their passions to controule As from their birth still to subjection us'd But you in whom high thoughts by nature grow To this decay how is your vertue come I blush to see my Soveraigne brought so low And Majestie by misery o'recome Nor doe I thus to make you stupid strive As one unnaturall wanting sense to smart No none a Prince of kindnesse can deprive The honour'd badge of an Heroicke heart That pow'r supreme by which great States doe stand Affections order should but not undoe And I could wish you might your selfe command Which though you may not well yet seeme to doe Croe. I will not here rehearse enlarging woes On what just reasons now my griefe I ground But still will entertaine my comforts foes Whilst many a thousand thoughts my soule doe wound What pensive pensill ever limm'd aright The sad conceipts of soule-consuming griefe Ah! words are weake to shew the swelling height Of th' inward anguish desperate of reliefe Though many monarchs jealously despise The rising Sunne that their declining staines And hate the Heyre who by their fall must rise As griev'd to heare of death or others raignes My love to Atis otherwise appear'd Whome whilst for him I did my cares engage I as a Father lov'd as king not fear'd The comfort not th' encombrance of mine age And had he me as reason would surviv'd Who glanc'd and
would recoyle And bent t' undo him we would finde a crime To you who are a Macedonian borne If match'd with Cleopatra great in pow'rs The Macedonians gladly would be sworne And if commanding them then all were yours Per. Yet this opinion partly I disprove Which would not as you thinke our troubles end For if we do from hence our force remove And to th' Aemathian bounds directly tend There must at first a doubtfull warre be prov'd With those brave bands whose valour is well known Of whom Craterus dearly is belov'd Antipater is borne and bred their owne And though indeed as kindly to those parts My friendship may affected be by some Yet those who start in time by many arts May under-myne their mindes before we come Then whil'st we trouble Macedony most And leave those Realmes unarm'd which now are ours Straight Ptolomie when strengthned is his host May like a tempest swallow Asia's pow'rs I for the time most willingly would take The course which seemes to make our state most sure A foe is dangerous when behinde ones backe Who whil'st not look'd for may our harme procure My purpose is though yet to none made knowne That Egypt first shall burden'd be with warre For if that Ptolomie were once o'rethrowne Then that from Greece all hope of help would barre Eum. Hold still with you those of the sacred bloud Whom to protect you alwayes must pretend The count'nance of the great may do much good Whom still though weake all glory to attend Exeunt Act. 3. Scene 2. Olympias Roxane LEt sorrow prove a tyrant to my soule Whose rage with reason now no measure keeps What of my teares the torrent can controull Since flowing from afflictions deepest deeps How can my breast but burst whil'st sobs rebound Since onâ—e the seat of joyes now not the same May not huge horrours presse me to the ground In thinking what I was and what I am I was a great mans wife a gâ—eaters mother Even she to whom the heavens their best did give Yet I even I more plagu'd then any other In dungeons now of desolation live My sonne who was the glory of his time Staine of times past and light of tâ—mes to come O fraile mortality O slipper â—yme Though having all o're-com'd death did o're-come And I dejected wretch whole dying eyes By Natures custome bound he should have clos'd Was not to shut his starres with th'yvory skies Which curtain'd once where Majesty repos'd But ah his falling in a forraine part Hath if ought can enlarge enlarg'd my griefe Or else on him I melted had my heart And spent my selfe to purchase his reliefe Yet though I was not present at his death He shall not be defrauded of my teares But for his funerall fires my flaming breath Shall smoak and to his Ghost a tribute beares Rox. Ah! to what corner rolls my watrie sight Where it not findes some matter to bemone O foolish eyes why lose ye not your light Since your delight is lost your object gone Once of all Queenes I might the fortune scorne To whom just love that great man did engage Whose match in worth the world hath never borne Nor never shall enrich another age When those perfections do transport my minde Which admiration doth disclose too late I curse the fates that did his judgement binde To make me partner of so high a state And I repent that to his sight I past Though highly grac'd once on a festuall day A feast which many a time must make me fast And with flow woe that flying mirth defray Then if my fortune had not blinded me But ah whose judgement had it not bereav'd Whil'st that great Monarch daign'd to like of me Of my high flight I had the fall conceiv'd Of Asia's Prince whose state did then decline He both the wife and daughters had at will Whose beauties lustre might have darkned mine Yet free from snares restrain'd his fancies still And when my father chose out from the rest Those Virgins all whom Fame affirm'd for rare Though having view'd them all he lov'd me best Then thought most fortunate if not most faire And whâ—n this match his Nobles all dismai'd That he himselfe with captives had alli'd That act he then as love had dited said Took from the vanquish'd shame from victors pride Yet me as Empresse all did entertaine Though his inferiour farre in all respects Till I from him by death divorc'd remaine Whom with his Sonne now all the world neglects Olymp. Although this will but aggravate my woe From whom the fates all comfort now seclude Yet I do tender his remembrance so That of my Sonne to heare it doth me good And daughter now to double my distresse Make me at length acquainted with his death That sorrow may each part of me possesse Sad news mine eares teares eyes and sighs my breath Rox. Though griefe to me scarce liberty affords To presse forth passions which oppresse my minde Yet would affection wrestle out some words To speake of him who all my thoughts confin'd When he had conquer'd all that could resist A Monarchie not equall with his minde Still in his haughty course he did insist And search'd the Ocean other worlds to finde But when from it his Navy was redeem'd He stood in doubt where Trophees next to reare The world though large for him too little seem'd His minde could more conceive then Nature beaâ—e Last ah this Emp'rour purpos'd was in th' end At Babylon his glories hight to show Where all the world his coming did attends As Iove above who onely raign'd below When he drew neare that then thrise Monarchs seat The Astrologians by their skill fore-told What danger huge was threatned to his state The which else-where might better be contrould But he who was not capable of feare And could not muse of misadventures then Would triumph there and the worlds Scepter beare Back'd with moe Kings then other Kings with men There as a God transporting mortals sights Which mirth with mourning I must still record He spent or lost a time in all delights Which Fortune could when flatt'ring most afford Till Thessalus for mischiefe but reserv'd Once to his house invited him to dine Where false Cassander at the Table serv'd And as he us'd with water mixt his wine Olymp. Alas alas and so it prov'd in th' end But who could feare a benefited friend Rox. There were all creatures valued for their worth As wholsome daiâ—ty sumptuous stately rare Which forc'd by Phoebus th'Easterne Realmes bring forth To live by Sea by Land or in the ayre Then when that Reason drunk with pleasure slept Which all the senses with abundance stor'd And whil'st save Musicke nothing measure kept With Ceres Bacchus onely was ador'd Even when the King beginning was to drinke As strangely mov'd he thund'red forth a grone And from the Table suddenly did shrinke His wonted vigour at an instant gone Whil'st he was softly to a Chamber led That death a
all dangers which might make us thralls For Cyrus had proclaim'd a great reward To him whose steps first trod the conquer'd walls And this companion seeing without stay One in his sight that craggie passage clime Straight on his foot-steps followed all the way And many a thousand hasted after him Then all that durst resist were quickly kill'd The rest who fled no where secure could be For every street was with confusion fill'd There was no corner from some mischiefe free O what a piteous clamour did arise Of ravish'd virgins and of widow'd wives Who pierc'd the heavens with lamentable cryes And having lost all comfort loath'd their lives Whil'st those proud Victors would themselves have stain'd With all the wrongs that Pride or power could use They by a charge from Cyrus were restrain'd And durst no more their captives thus abuse Chor. No doubt but high mishaps did then abound Whil'st with disdaine the Conqu'rours bosome boyld As some the sword disgrace did some confound Not onely houses Temples too were spoyld What misery more great can be devis'd Then is a Cities when by force surpris'd But whil'st that stately Towne was thus distress'd What did become of our unhappy King Nunt. Then when the Enemy had his state possest And that confusion seaz'd on every thing He scarcely first could trust his troubled sight The Fortune past transported had him so Yet having eyes who can deny the light He saw himselfe inferiour to his foe And apprehending there whil'st left alone How that his judgement long had beene betray'd As metamorphos'd in a marble stone His ravish'd thoughts in admiration stray'd But such a weight of woes not us'd to beare He first was griev'd then rag'd and last despair'd Till through excessive feare quite freed from feare He for his safetie then no further car'd And never wishd he so to have long life But death farre further was affected now Still feeking danger in the bounds of strife So he were sure to dye he car'd not how Whilst furies thus were fostred in his brest Him suddenly a Souldier chanc'd to meet As insolent as any of the rest Who drunk with bloud ran raging through the street And wanting but an object to his ire He sought to him and he to him againe I know not which of them did most desire The one to slay the other to be slaine But whil'st so base a hand towring aloft Did to so great a Monarch threaten death His eldest Sonne who as you have heard oft Was barr'd from making benefit of breath I cannot tell you well nor in what forme If that the destinies had so ordain'd Or if of passions an impetuous storme Did raze the strings that had his tongue restrain'd But when he saw his Syre in danger stand He with those words a mighty shout did give Thou furious Stranger stay hold hold thy hand Kill not King Croesus let my Father live The other hearing this his hand retyr'd And call'd his Kings commandement to minde High were those aymes to which his thoughts aspir'd Whom for great fortunes this rare chance design'd Now when that Croesus who for death long long'd Was quite undone by being thus preserv'd As both by life and death then doubly wrong'd Whil'st but by fates for further harme reserv'd He with sad sighs those accents did accord Now let the heavens do all the ill they can Which would not unto me the grace afford That I might perish like a private man Ah must I live to sigh that I was borne Charactring shame in a dejected face Ah must I live to my perpetuall scorne The abject object pointed for disgrace Yet this unto his soule more sorrow bred He scorne pretending state as King array'd Was with great shouts ridiculously led Backe to the Tent whereas their Emp'rour stay'd Then that he might his misery conceive Those robes so rich were all exchang'd with chains And prisons strictnesse bragg'd him with the grave So soone as death could make a choice of paines They caus'd in haste a pile of wood to make And in the mid'st where all men might him spie Caus'd binde the captive King unto a stake With fourteene others of the Lydians by There as if offerings fit to purge the state Foes sought with flames their ruine to procure Though Iove prepostrous piety doth hate No sacrifice is sweet which is not pure Now whil'st the fire was kindling round about As to some pow'rfull God who pray'd or vow'd With eyes bent up and with his hands stretch'd out O! Solon Solon Croesus cry'd aloud Some hearing him to utter such a voice Who said that Cyrus curious was to know When dying now what deity was his choice Did him request his last intent to show His exclamation was said he on one With whom he wish'd their frailty so to see That all who ever trusted in a Throne Had but conferr'd a space as well as he Then there he told what Solon had him showne Whil'st at his Court which flourish'd then arriv'd How worldly blisse might quickly be o're-throwne And not accomplish'd was while as one liv'd Whil'st forth salt flouds attending troupes did powre He shew how much the wise-man did disdaine Those who presum'd of wealth or worldly pow'r By which none could a perfect blisse obtaine This speech did Cyrus move to ponder much The great uncertainty of worldly things As thinking that himselfe might once be such Since thrall'd to Fortunes throne like other Kings Then such a patterne standing him before Whom envy once then pitie did attend He to our King did liberty restore And with his life did Solons fame extend Yet him the fire still threatned to devoure Which rising high could hardly be controll'd But O devotion then appear'd thy pow'r Which to subdue the heavens makes worldlings bold To quench the flames whil'st divers toild in vaine Iove mov'd by prayer as Croesus did require The azure Cisterns open'd did remaine And clouds fell downe in flouds to quench the fire Then whil'st the Souldiers did the Citie sack To save the same as to his Countrey kinde The hopelesse Croesus thus to Cyrus spake With words which pitie melted from his minde Great Prince to whom all Nations now succumbe And do thy yoke so willingly embrace That it some comfort gives to be o're-come By one whose glory graces our disgrace Since now I am constrain'd your thrall to be I must conforme my selfe unto my fate And cannot hold my peace whereas I see That which may wrong the greatnesse of your state Your state is spoil'd by not suspected pow'rs If this rich Citie thus do rest ore-throwne Which now no more is mine but is made yours And therefore Sir have pittie of your owne Yea though the losse of such a populous Towne Both rich and yours your minde could nothing move Yet thinke of this which may import your Crowne A peece of policy which time will prove The haughty Persians borne with stubborne mindes Who but for poverty first followed you
action would not bedelay'd Least time make him to doubt and us to feare Exeant Chorus TIme through Ioves judgement just Huge alterations brings Those are but fooles who trust In transitory things Whose tailes be are mortall stings Which in the end will wound And let none thinke it strange Though all things earthly change In this inferiour round What is from ruine free The Elements which be At variance as we see Each th' other doth confound The Earth and Ayre make warre The fire and water are Still wrestling at debate All those through cold and heat Through drought and moisture jaâ—re What wonder though men change and fade Who of those changing Elements are made How dare vaine worldlings vannt Of fortunes goods not lasting Evils which our wits enchant Expos'd to losse and wasting Loe we to death are hasting Whil'st we those things discusse All things from their beginning Still to an end are running Heaven hath ordain'd it thus We heare how it doth thunder We see th' earth burst asunder And yet we never ponder What this imports to us These fearefull signs 〈◊〉 prove That th' angry pow'râ— above Are mov'd to indignation Against this wretched nation Which they no longer love What are we but a passe of breath Who live assur'd of nothing but of death Who was so happy yet As never had some crosse Though on a Throne he sit And is not ut'd with losse Yet fortune once will tosse Him when that least he would If one had all at once Hydaspes precious stones And yellow Tagus gold The Orientall treasure And every earthly pleasure Even in the greatest measure It should not smake him bold For while he lives secure His state is most unsure When it doth least appeare Some heavy plague drawes neare Destruction to procure Worlds glory is but like a flowre Which both is bloom'd and blasted in an houre In what we most repose We finde our comfort light The thing we soonest lose That 's pretious in our sight For honour riches might Our lives in pawne we lay Yet all like flying shadowes Or flowers enamelling meadowes Doe vanish and decay Long time we toile to finde Those Idols the minde Which had we cannot binde To bide with us one day Then why should we presume On treasures that consume Difficult to obtaine Difficult to retaine A dreame a breath a fume Which vexe them most that them possesse Who starve with store and famish with excesse Act 4. Scene 1. Darius Tiriotes AH must I poyson now my Princes eares With newes the worst that ever burden'd fame Had I as many tongues as I have teares All would not serve my sorrowes to proclaime Dar. Great signes of griefe I in thy face discerne And spare not to report this heavie crosse To one I feare whom it doth most concerne Is' t death disgrace destruction treason losse Tell on the summe of horrour at the first With no ambiguous words my paine prolong A wretch for comfort craves to know the worst And I have learn'd to be unhappy long What least I speake and yet suspect too much Art thou the Trumpet to proclaime my scorne Which must wound me but ah no torment such As this to her who that disgrace hath borne Tir. She was not wrong'd as you have wrong conceiv'd The Gods from harme did study to preserve her She from your foe such favour hath receiv'd As from her Subjects who were bound to serve her But what a volly doth my voyce prepare Of woes to charge your cares woes full of dread Would God ere I my message can declare That I may dye in saying she is dead And was it not enough poore wretch alas That I beheld her dye and would have dy'd But that I must arm'd with sad tidings passe To wound all them who heare what I have spy'd See how he stands mov'd with those words of mine As if by griefe arrested unto death Dar. Yet doth the Sunne on my affliction shine And cleare the ayre though tainted by my breath And can I live and looke them in the face Who have my o'rethrow shamefull o'rethrow seene And how I vanquish'd vanquish'd with disgrace Did lose at once my Kingdome and my Queene Heaven bruise me all to powder with thy thunder That I no more may in the world remaine The object of thy wrath and fortunes wonder Spoil'd of all hope yet kept for greater paine Ah art thou dead and doe I live behinde thee Thy faulty husband think'st thou so to flye If it be thin then know I where to finde thee This onely grieves me that too late I dye O Alexander what such hainous ill Have I done thee that thou requit'st me thus Whom of thy friends or kindred did I kill This cruelty comes undeserv'd of us Though justly thou intended had this warre Mars from his rage made women alwaies free This tyranny shall all thy Trophees marre And still to thy reproch reported be Tir. Thus of that Prince you without cause esteem I know her death him grievously displeas'd A woodrous thing which few or none would deeme He wail'd it long and could not be appeas'd Even as my Soveraigne now then did he smart And when he came to calme your mothers griefe As acting not his owne but even your part He seem'd to need and not to give reliefe Dar. If any sparkes of that respect remaine Which much with thee should duely weigh'd import I pray thee Tiriotes now be plaine Or else strange torments shall the truth extort I loath to let this question scape my mouth Which both I blush to crave and long to know And can it be that this transported youth Not urg'd to have that which I onely owe Could this fierce Prince even in his flaming age Have such a beauty purchas'd by his toiles And yet not seeke forc'd by affections rage Her honours ruine and my pleasures spoiles Speake frankely now and tell what fatall shelfe Hath crush'd my treasures Barke and me defac'd The feare of ill is worse then ill it selfe They twise doe dye who dye and dye disgrac'd Tir. Let not those love-bred feares abuse your thought By all the world no fable I contrive If partially I speake or lye in ought Earth open wide and swallow me alive He whom your grace so wrongfully suspects Hath not in any sort your Queene abus'd But as his sister still in all respects As chastly and as honourably us'd When angry Iove subverted had our state And view'd our thundred troupes disordered flight Light fortune then who flattered us of late Did make our state a mirrour of her might For having found a Crowne foil'd on the ground Dar. O endlesse shame which never can be cur'd Tir. We straight imagin'd that some cruell wound Had kill'd our Lord and wail'd it as assur'd Dar. Would God I then had dy'd as I desir'd To have prevented those ensuing barmes Whil'st ere my hohour and my hap expir'd A Crowne my head a Queene enrich'd my armes Tir.
To make me seeme not worthy of his place That he preferr'd a Stranger to his Sonne As bent to cloud the glory of his race Thus since in such a sort he did neglect The Sonne who should his name from death exempt As dis-regarded for some great defect All other men may have me in contempt But ere his age attain'd the fatall date He saw my brows with lawrell boughs array'd And spy'd my skill in warre and wit in state Which grew as much as his had then decay'd Nor can my courage so be brought to bow But Polypercon shall by proofe finde soone That in my Fathers will I Will allow Not what he did but what he should have done And since by him high dignities were wonne I minde to prosecute what he began For though I would so great a Fathers Sonne Can not securely live a private man Loe Polypercon by our pow'r repell'd From Macedonie hath retyr'd dismay'd And for the feare of us hath beene compell'd To rest beholding for anothers aid Let him not think that shadows though of Kings Can match my pow'r with these his borrow'd bands A doubtfull flight all fram'd with others wings Will never beare him from Cassanders hands And though Olympias count'nanc'd once his cause As from Epirus come to ruine me Now of her owne misfortune she must pause Since brought of late unto a low degree Lysim And yet Olympias once did prosper well When first she touch'd the Macedonian bounds Whil'st Polypercon proudly did repell all those who durst resist with words or wounds Though Philip and Euridice his Queene To give them battell bent in time arriv'd The Macedonians when they had her seene As their owne Queene to do her honour striv'd And haplesse Philip whil'st constrain'd to yeeld There for a Kings did take a captives state And with his mate though flying from the field Was follow'd by their force and by her fate Then â—id her husband and her selfe give place Whose brows of late a Diademe had borne But then throwne downe in depths of black disgrace Were made of pride the prey the butt of scorne Cass Those were the means which did them first entrap But have you heard how after they were thrall To plague the world with horrour and mishap The proud Olympias tyrraniz'd o're all Lys Some doubtfull rumors did frequent each 〈◊〉 Such as rash Fame confus'dly durst unfold But yet by favour hid or else for feare The truth of all it may be was not told Cass When thus the Tygresse happ'ned to surprise Those wretched souls as ravish'd in a dreame Her heart at first seem'd scarce to trust her eyes She surfetted her sight so with their shame But when she saw by reason of her pow'r That she might safely let her rage burst out She them about caus'd build a lightlesse Tower Press'd by whose walls they scarce could turne about And in that dungeon as entomb'd they stood With high disgrace t' appease more high disdaines Farre from all comfort whil'st a little food Their life prolong'd but to prolong their paines But for misfortune pity last doth pleade As envy doth prosperity oppose The Macedonians then indifferent made On murmur'd rumours doubtfully did glose The peoples grudge Olympias did perceive And of just fury fearing the effect She straight resolv'd lifes remnant to bereave From weakened pow'rs which did no lesse expect And when some Thracians basely bent for bloud As she had charg'd with mercenary spight Had murdred Philip and his Queene imbru'd With these red streames that drown'd her lifes delight She sent to her whose soule in griefe did sinke As messengers of death to bragge her brest A sword a cord and an empoyson'd drink A Tyrants presents yet a wretches best Those seene the Queene unmov'd this speech did make As one who had imbrac'd some great reliefe Fit gifts for her to give for me to take Since she exceeds in hate and I in griefe And tell the Tyrant that I gladly dye That once the angry gods to venge my death May thunder forth that judgement which I spie With bloud must choak that bloudy womans breath Last looking on her Lord who there lay slaine Once partner of his joy then of his woe Whil'st that his Roses did her Lillies staine She kiss'd his wounds as taking leave to goe Lest Time her Resolution had betray'd Her snowie necke not us'd with such a chaine Her girdle grasp'd then dy'd no way dismai'd And if she sigh'd she sigh'd but for disdaine Lysi This barbarous act my breast with griefe dotâ— sâ—ing Can spight so much transport the meekest kinde And yet on th' earth there 's no more cruell thing Then malice raging in a womans minde Cass But yet this sacrifice could not asswage The boyling thoughts of her unbounded will For entring thus she rioted in rage As dogges that once get bloud would alwayes kill Each light occasion kindling still her wrath The Soveraignty she shamefully abus'd And put my brother Nicanor to death Though for no crime condemn'd no not accus'd To some when dead an hate by her was borne Whose cruelty no floud of bloud confin'd Of Iolas the Tombe prophanely torne She robbing th' earth with ashes stain'd the winde To be Cassanders friend was such a crime As none could scape who ever favour'd me Thus huge disorders did abound a time Where laws not valued are all things are free When having heard of this outragious pride Which made my native soyle contemn'd to be I those indignities could not abide Whose shame and danger did ayme most at me So that at last mov'd by my Countries care As much as by particular respects I with great speed an Army did prepare To punish or prevent the like effects But when I was to Macedony come To fortifie a Towne she did designe Which I enclos'd and quickly did o're-come Whil'st famine forc'd the Fortresse to resigne Then to necessity weake pride gave place Her lofty courage was constrain'd to bow So that she rests depending on our grace To be dispos'd as it shall please us now Lysim This chance the world to wonder may invite Loe there a Queene who had though now distress'd The rarest Fortune and the greatest sprite That ever any of her sex possess'd The widow'd Empresse who first bragg'd the Indes Or proud Thomiris though both prais'd have beene Or th' Amazons all borne with martiall mindes Have never beene more stout then was this Queene Her lifes first progresse did but prove too sweet Whom once the world with treasures striv'd to blesse But now sad soule foil'd under Fortunes â—eet Her misery no creature can expresse Cass Those were but Fortunes gifts which made her great Whil'st treacherous shows by shallow wits were prais'd Her imperfections did but staine the State Where her not hers but others merits rais'd When first that Dame with famous Philip match'd Her cunning carriage was not free from blame But though she then with Argos eyes was watch'd As was suppos'd soone forfeited
gold which oft her Nymphs beguiles And am I she whose greatnesse is admir'd Whom Iove for wife whom thousands court for love Whom haughty Ixion to embrace desir'd Yet with a cloud deluded did remove And what made me a matter to submit Where my authority might have avail'd Whilst though I promis'd wealth and Pallas wit Yet with a yong man Venus most prevail'd But how durst he of one the glory raise Where two contemn'd would needs the wrong repaire It spites our sexe to heare anothers praise Of which each one would be thought onely faire To venge my selfe no kinde of paine I spar'd And made his greatest gaine his greatest losse As Venus gave him Helen for reward I gave him Helen for his greatest crosse Nor did he long with joy her love enjoy Whose fatall flames his Country did confound Whâ—â—st Armies arm'd for her did Troy destroy And Neptunes labours levell'd with the ground Whilst Simois seem'd to be a buriall field Whose streams as streets were with dead bodies pav'd All Zanthus Plaine as turn'd a Sea did yeeld A floud of bloud from Heroes wounds receiv'd Whilst braving thousands once though much esteem'd By dust and bloud deform'd of Hector slaine Not like Patroclus by the sword redeem'd The body basely was bought backe againe Then by the same mans sonne who kill'd his sonne Old Priamus surpriz'd sigh'd forth his breath And even most harm'd where he for helpe had runne The Altar taking taken was by death Though wrestling long to scape the heavens decree Bloud quenching lust last parted from the light He who lov'd Helen and was loath'd by me Did as a Sacrifice appease my spight Then having liv'd if wretches have a life Till in all hers ere dead oft buried spi'd Though once known both nor mother then nor wife The fertile Hecuba mad childelesse dy'd Thus by those meanes it would have seem'd to some That scorned beauty had beene well reveng'd But whilst they were o're-com'd they did o're-come Since they their states for better states have chang'd I in one part that people did confound But did enlarge their power in every place All war-like Nations through the world renown'd From Phrygian ruines strive to raise their race And yet two traitors who betray the rest O! that the heaven on treason sometime smiles Though having worst deserv'd did chance the best More I appy then at home in their exiles Did not Antenor stealing through his foes Neere to th' Euganian Mountaines build a Towne Of which soâ—e nurslings once shall seeke repose Amidst the waves and in the depths sit downe Their Citie spousing Neptune shall arise The rarest Common-wealth that ever was Whose peo e if as stout as rich and wise Might boast to bring miraculous things to passe Then false Aeneas though but borne t' obey Did of a fugitive become a King And some of his neere Tibers streames that stay Would all the world to their obedience bring Their ravenous Eagles soaring o're all lands By violence a mighty prey have wonne That bastard brood of Mars with martiall bands Have conquerâ—d both the Mansions of the Sunne Their course by mountaines could not be controld No Neptune could not keep his bosome free The parching heate nor yet the freezing cold Their Legions limits no way could decree Yet of that City there can come no good Whose rising walles with more then barbarous rage The builder first bath'd with his brothers bloud Which their prodigious conquests did presage Oft hath that Towne my soule with anguish fiâ—li'd Whose new-borne state did triumph o're my wrath Like my old foe who in his Cradle kill'd The Serpents which I sent to give him death By Sabins Albans Tuscans oft assail'd Even in her infancy I toss'd Romes state Yet still Laomedons false race prevail'd And angry Iuno could doe nought but hate Then when the gallant Gaules had vanquish'd Rome Who basely bought her liberty with gold A banish'd man Camillus chanc'd to come And her imballanc'd state redeem'd of old Great Hanniball our common cause pursu'd And made his bands within their bounds remaine With Consuls and with Pretors bloud imbru'd At Thrasimene and at Cannas slayne In Romans mindes strange thoughts did doubt infuse But whilst they fear'd the taking of their Towne He who could vanquish victory not use Was by their brasen fate when high thrown downe O what a torrent of Barbarian bands In inundations once their walles did boast Whilst Teutons huge and Cymbers from their Lands Like Gyants march'd a more then monstrous hoste But though from parts unknowne to ruine Rome I led those troupes which all the word admir'd Yet did fierce Marius me with them o're-come And I in vaine to venge old wrongs aspir'd By meanes more base I likewise sought her harmes Whilst Ianus Church imported never peace I rais'd up abject Spartacus in Armes Who neere eclips'd Romes glory with disgrace Though I who all the world for helpe have sought From Europe Africke and from Asia thus Gaules Carthaginians and the Cymbers brought Yet did the dammage still redound to us Of heaven and earth I all the pow'rs have prov'd And for their wracke have each advantage watch'd But they by forraine force cannot be mov'd By Romans Romans onely may be match'd And I at last have kindled civill warre That from their thoughts which now no reason bounds Not onely laws but Natures laws doth barre The Sonne the Syre the brother brother wounds Whil'st th' Eagles are oppos'd to th' Eagles so O what contentment doth my minde attaine No wound is wrong bestow'd each kills a foe What ever side doth lose I alwayes gaine But this my soule exceedingly annoyes That all at one time cannot be supprest The warre helps some as others it destroyes And those who hate me most still prosper best Whil'st with their bloud their glory thousands spend Ah! ones advancement aggravates my woe Who vaunts himselfe from Venus to descend As if he claim'd by kinde to be my foe I meane the man whose thoughts nought can appease Whil'st them too high a blinde ambition bends Whom as her minion Fortune bent to please Her rarest treasures prodigally spends Not onely hath he daunted by the Sword The Gauls the Germans and th' Aegyptians now But of all Lords pretends to be made Lord That who command the world to him may bow Thus dispossessing Princes of their Thrones Whil'st his Aâ—â—â—â—tion nothing can asswage That the subjected world in bondage grones The prey of pride the sacrifice to rage Men raile on Iove and sigh for Saturnes time And to the present Ages past preferre Then burden would the Gods with every crime And damne the heavens where onely th' earth doth erre Though Iove as stupid still with Cupid sports And not the humour of proud Caesar spies Who may if forcing thus the worlds chiefe Forts Then Titans earst more pow'rfull scale the skies Yet lest he thrall him too who none free leaves We from the bounds above him must repell To brawle with
But Alexander having heard our cryes Sent one to learne the cause that mov'd our woe Who finding whence our errour did arise Gave full assurance that it was not so Then he himselfe did to our Tent resort And with the mildest words he could conceive Your Mother Wife and Children did exhort Such terrours vaine since but surmiz'd to leave And he protested that they should expect No harme of him their courage to appall Then all things did with great regard direct That no man might endammage them at all Thus when they were against all dangers arm'd I thinke for feare for who would not have fear'd Lest such rare graces might his minde have charm'd He never more before her face appear'd Else generous vertue jealous of each thing Which tempting reason senses might allure What rare restraint in a victorious King He fled what fault or scandall could procure He doth his fame above all things preferre And will not be where it may blemish finde Nor give his eyes commodity to erre Lest thoughts impure might strive to staine his minde He whil'st that she was sicke did loath delight And gravely griey'd all pompe and pleasure left Dar. O hatefull heaven that with such hellish spight The worlds chiefe treasure Natures glory reft Tir. When he beheld deaths triumph in that face Which had triumph'd o're such a Monarchs heart With witness'd woe even passionate a space The lookers on did much commend his part And when some time his dolour had o're-come Her funerall rites solemnly to decore He us'd such honour as might well become The Persian pompe in prosp'rous times before Dar. O pow'r supreame that of great states disposest And ratifi'st thy will with fearefull thunder Who as thou pleasest placest and deposest Vncertaine worldlings now above now under I pray thy Deitie in my soules distresse If that th' inhabitants of heaven can heare The plaints of them who this low point possesse Or that th' immortals can give mortals care This favour last I onely doe require Establish first the Scepter in my hand But if through my desert or thy desire The race of Cyrus must no more command Since angry heaven so high a hate contracts That I must needs my Diadem forgoe Let him succeed who proves in all his acts So milde a Victor and so just a foe Act 4. Scene 2. Darius Artabazus Nabarzanes Patron Bessus IF joyn'd by fates with men of dastard mindes Who to a noble death base life preferr'd I should not waste my words amongst the windes But labour would that time might be deferr'd Though still resolv'd your course confirmes me much Whom no disaster could divorce from me What man can doubt whom heavens doe backe by such When bragg'd with bondage fighting to be free My courage swels to see you marching forth Whose force and faith which all the world doth sing Oft clear'd by proofe though fortune envy worth Might serve to make farre more to keepe a King He gives our rebels Townes not mov'd by love Each Prince though using them all traitours hates But that their course to take this might you move His turne once serv'd so forfeiting your states Ye to my fortune have not had regard As of my peace so partners of my warres Which though that I might not Iove would reward And all the world extoll you to the starres How long shall I a vagabond remaine And flye a stranger who my right would reave Since by one battell we may re-obtaine All that we lost or lose all that we have Like some vile traitors whom I will arraigne To hold me up shall I goe cast me downe Must Darius onely by entreaty raigne No none hath pow'r to give or take my Crowne I shall not my authority survive Nor will I proffer a submissive breath My hand shall hold a Scepter while I live My hand shall beare a Diadem till death If those franke thoughts which doe possesse my soule Such flames of courage kindled have in you A Macedonian shall not us controule Nor with disdainefull smiles brag whil'st we bow My state may testifie fraile fortunes change May she not him o're-whelme as well as mee At least our hands beare death if not revenge Brave mindes when no more rests may still dye free Now call your valorous ancestors to minde Whom from the Grecians tribute still requir'd And of whose deeds rare monuments we finde Whose merits make their memories admir'd Shall of your deeds posterity be dumbe Which doth your fathers names though dead adore I am resolv'd my triumph or my tombe A Laurell or a Cypresse shall decore Art What doubtfull silence thus your thoughts detaines We need advise with nought but with our swords He who the Persians wonted worth retaines Will answer now with deeds and not with words Let us accompany our King in Armes Through bloudy squadrons to this fatall strife No profit can be had without some harmes By slaughter onely we must looke for life And when our host as I hope doth prevaile Our Country shall have peace we praise of right And if our fortune not our courage faile We dye with honour in our Soveraignes sight Let us if vanquish'd scorne base breath to buy A noble death may greater glory give Doe to o're-come and yet not feare to dye 'T is needfull that we fight not that we live Nar. My words will first your Majestie displease Yet duty makes me speake where silence spilles The best Physitian cures a sharpe disease With some sowre potion that corruption killes And skilfull Pilots when they feare a storme To save the ship will cast out pretious things You in some sort may imitate their forme For else a tempest totall ruine brings Since bent against the Gods how can we speed To all our actions fortune is oppos'd We must of force some other way proceed So have the heavens of our affaires dispos'd Give Sir the state at least your titles place On some more happy man not in effect But with your shadow cloath him for a space Till he your Realmes from ruine may protect This storme once calm'd that now disturbes your state And Asia free from any forraigne hoste He shall with haste resigne the Soveraigne seat These Kingdoms gain'd againe which you have lost All Bactria yet abides at your command The Indians loe would dye to doe you good Yea many thousand thousands armed stand Bent for your State to offer up their bloud What should we rush like beasts to needlesse strife Be well prepar'd and then your fortune try Brave mindes should death despise not loathing life For feare of danger cowards crave to dye But vertue first all hopes accounts doth cast And of each meane to helpe maturely thinkes Then when all else is done death is the last The which to meet true courage never shrinkes Now for the time let Bactria be our seate To Bessus for the forme your Crowne resigne Who when he once hath re-advanc'd your state Shâ—ll with your foes o'rethrow
his charge confine Dar. Wretch travell'st thou thy Soveraign to betray Such treason dar'st thou to our eares impart Such treason under trust stay traitour stay My sword shall search what lurkes within thy heart Art Sir reyne your rage this but new trouble breeds And weigh well what they are what is the time It may be this from ignorance proceeds In thought and not in word consists a crime Since that against your enemies you goe Be not severe in cens'ring Subjects parts But tolerate your owne to grieve your foe Now must we strive to gaine not lose mens hearts It by all meanes shall be exactly try'd How first his braine such fancies did embrace And if but simply not puft up with pride He must be pardon'd and restor'd to grace Dar. And of my Subjects I would rather have Then one to punish them to guerdon all Nar. If I have err'd no pardon Sir I crave First heare and if I faile then let me fall I call the Gods to testifie my part Who can commenting thoughts cleare truth afford If ever treason harbour'd in my heart Straight let me dye not pittied but abhorr'd I counsell gave according to my skill It was my upright minde that made me bold And though my wit not answer'd to my will Still zeale what it conceives must needs unfold We should be loth to speake in great affaires Where words are damn'd or ballanc'd by th' event For if things faile the fault is still thought theirs Who gave advice though of a good intent Great Prince forget this not well grounded grudge Who dare be free if thus for words rejected At least examine first before you judge I rather dye absolv'd then live suspected Dar. Your fond opinion justly might be fear'd Which seem'd indeed sinistrously inclind For at the first your speech to me appear'd The poyson'd birth of some malitious minde But your purgation now hath taken place And of your faith I will no further doubt But hold you in the same degree of grace That you enjoy'd before those words chanc'd our I thinke that Patron lookes with speaking eyes As if his minde were mightily perplex'd Come Patron tell what in thy bosome lyes By which thou seem'st so wonderfully vex'd Pa. Sir I would speake in private if I could That which affection fir'd with zeale affords Let silence seale what friends with feare unfold Take you my thoughts none else shall have my words Though onely bound by voluntary choice We follow you all other hopes quite lost Your bodies shadowes th' Ecchoes of your voyce As faithfull now as when you flourish'd most For where you are we must remaine with you Since both our lots are in one vessell throwne I wish our Tent were made your lodging now For we will save your life or lose our owne We have abandon'd Greece our native soile And our retreat no Bactria now attends But those who us would of your person spoile Spoile us of all whose all on you depends Would God all yours were bent to doe their due Fame big by feare doth bring forth rumours rife I grant it grosse if that his owne were true To trust a strange with a Monarches life Dar. What sudden danger doth of late dismay you Such inconveniences that you fore-cast Pa. Sir Bessus and Narbazanes betray you This day to you or them will be the last They faine repentance onely for the forme Till every thing be for the fact prepar'd The clouds are gathering which doe boast a storme And they ere night minde to invade your guard Dar. I trust thy words but yet I cannot wrong Those who by nature love to me should beare Shall I leave them who follow'd me so long Then they may thinke I merit what I feare I will await on what the heavens will send For who can stand when fates his fall conspire And with mine owne at least least griev'd will end I live too long if they my death desire Bes Take heed in time Sir to this subtile Greeke The Grecian faith to all the world is knowne I am enform'd he by all meanes doth seeke To gratifie your foe as borne his owne And marvell not though mercenary men Who sell themselves sell all this is not strange They have no God but gold nor house how then Can they be constant who doe live by change Though this vaine man pre-occupy you thus And such as would themselves abuse your grace Faith shall be found untainted still in us When our accuser dare not shew his face Dar. Of Alexander those who hope for gaine By trait'rous meanes do but themselves deceive Since none in earth doth Traitors more disdaine Nor treason can in greater horrour have Bes Well Sir you shall know shortly what we are I will go see your Ensignes all displai'd Dar. It better is since things are gone so farre Then seeme but to mistrust to be betray'd Loe Artabazus I have acted here My part of greatnesse and my glasse is runne Now Patrons speech doth evident appeare I see my end yet can their course not shunne Art The Bactrians onely have imbark'd in this Go to the Greeks which if with courage done When once your danger manifested is The Persians all will follow after soone Dar. And what if I were gone to Patrons Tent And had the Greeks for guard as you desire He h th but thousands foure which are well bent Tâ—â—y thirty thousand who my fall conspire And doing this I should their deed excuse In giving them a cause who have most might They may indeed my lenity abuse But by my deed they shall pretend no right Art O Prince to be bemoan'd who can but weep To â—ee thee thus involv'd in such a state Dar. Retyre you all and seek your selves to keep â—â—ere attend the issue of my fate Yâ—â—onâ—â—â— that a wretch yet breathing stands â—o whom the heavens no comfort can impart Fâ—â—â—e shall not make me fall by mine owne hands No let another sinne though I must smart None of you all have falsifi'd your truth But loyall still unto the end abide Now I you all disburthen of your oath Leave me alone and for your selves provide Act. 4 Scene 3. Darius O Stormy state of Kings vaine Mortalls choice The glorious height whence greatnesse grones to fall Ah! we who courting fame do hunt each voyce To seeme but Soveraigne must be slaves to all Yet blowne like bladders with Ambitions winde On envy'd Scepters weakly we relye And whil'st swoln fancies do betray the minde Not onely th' earth but heavens themselves defie Whil'st lostie thoughts tumultuous mindes do tosse Which are past up with popular applause A state extended by our Neighbours losse For further trouble but procures a cause If Fortunes dark ecclipse cloud glories light Then what avails that pomp which pride doth claim A meere illusion made to mock the sight Whose best was but the shadow of a dreame Of glassie Scepters let fraile greatnesse vaunt Not Scepters no but reeds which rais'd