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Him, when that least he would ;

O more then happie ten times were that king, If one bad all at once

Who were unhappie but a little space, Hydaspes' precious stones,

So that it did not utter ruine bring, And yellow Tagus gold;

But made him prove (a profitable thing) The orientall treasure,

Who of his traine did best deserve his grace; And every earthly pleasure,

Then could, and would of, those the best enibrace; Even in the greatest measure,

Such vulturs fled as follow but for prey, It should not make him bold :

That faithfull servants might possesse their place. For while he lives secure,

All gallant minds it must with anguish sting, His state is most unsure ;

Whilst wanting meanes their vertue to display; When it doth least appeare,

This is the griefe which bursts a generous heart; Some heavy plague drawes neare,

When favour comes by chance, not by desart. Destruction to procure. World's glory is but like a flowre,

Those minions oft to whom kings doe extend, Which both is bloom'd, and blasted in an houre. Above their worth, immoderate good-will,

(The buttes of common hate oft hit in end)

In prosp'rous times they onely doe depend, In what we most repose,

Not upon them, but on their fortune still, We finde our confort light,

Which if it change, they change, them though they The thing we soonest lose

Their hopes with honour, and their chests with coyne; That 's pretious in our sight;

Yet if they fall, or their affaires goe ill, For honour, riches, might,

Those whom they rais'd will not with them descend, Our lives in pawne we lay ;

But with the side most stronge all straight doe joyne, Yet all like flying shadowes,

And doe forget all what was given before, Or flowers enamelling meadowes,

When once of them they can expect no more. Doe vanish and decay. Long time we toile to finde

The truth hereof in end this strange event Those idols of the minde,

In Bessus and Narbazenes hath prov'd, Which had, we cannot binde

On whom their prince so prodigally spent To bide with us one day :

Affection, honour, titles, treasure, rent, Then why should we presume

And all that might an honest minde have mor'd. On treasures that consume,

So bountyfuli a prince still to have lov'd, Difficult to obtaine,

Who so benignely tendred had their state; Difficult to retaine,

Yet traitours vile (all due respects remov'd) A dreame, a breath, a fume ?

They him to strike the strength he gave have bent, Which vexe them most, that them possesse,

Soe as he now may rue, although too late,
Who starve with store, and famish with excesse.

That slie camelions, changing thus their hue,
To servants were preferr'd, who still were true.

But though those traitours for a space doe speed,

No doubt the Heavens once vengeance will exact; CHORUS FOURTH.

The very horrour of this hainous deed, Some new disaster daylie doth fore-show

Doth make the hearts of honest men to bleed: Our comming ruine: wee have seene our best :

Yea, even the wicked hate this barbarous act: For Portune, bent us wholy to orethrow,

The Heavens no higher choler can contract, Throwes downe our king from her wheele's height Then for the forcing of a sacred king,

Whose state (if rage doe not their mindes distract) so low,

Must feare and reverence in inferiours breed, That by no meanes his state can be redrest:

To whom from him all what is theirs doth spring; For, since by armes bis pow'r hath beene represt, Both friends and servants leave him all alone;

But though on th’ Earth men should neglect this

wrong, Few have compassion of his state distrest, To him themselves a number false doth show;

Heavens Will those traitours plague ere it be long. So foes and faithlesse friends conspir'd'in one, Fraile Fortune and the Pates with them agree: “ All runne with hatchets on a falling tree.”

CHORUS FIFTH. This prince in prosp'rous state hath flourish'd What makes vaine worldlings so to swell with pride, long,

Who come of th' earth, and soone to th' earth reAnd never dream'd of ill, did thinke farre lesse,

turne? But was well follow'd whilst his state was strong; So bellish furies with their fire-brands burne Him flattering Syrens with a charming song Proud and ambitious men, that they divide Striv'd to exalt, then whilst he did possesse Them from themselves, and so turmoyle their This earthly drosse, tbat with a vaine excesse That all their time they study stilt (mindes, He might reward their mercenarie love;

How to content a boundlesse will, But now when Fortune drives him to distresse, Which never yet a full contentment findes ; His favourites whom he remain'd among, "

Who so this flame within his bosome smothers, They straight with her (as her's) their faith remove; He many fancies doth contrive, And who for gaine to follow him were wont; And even forgets himselfe alive, They after gaine by his destruction hunt.

To be remembred after death by others;

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Thus while he is, his paines are never ended, Not proud, nor base, he (scorning creeping art) Tbat whil'st he is not, he may be commended. From jealous thoughts and envy free,

No poyson feares in cups of tree; What can this help the happinesse of kings No treason harbours in so poore a part: So to subdue their neighbours as they do? No heavy dreame,doth vex him when he sleeps, And make strange nations tributaries too?

A guiltlesse minde the guardlesse cottage keeps." “ The greater state, the greater trouble brings;" Their pompes and triumphs stand them in no stead; He doth not studie mueh what stormes may blow, Their arches, tombs, pyramides high,

Whose poverty can hardly be impair'd;

He feares no forraine force, nor craves no guard; And staiates, are but vanity : They dye, and yet would live in what is dead;

None doth desire his spoyle, none looks so low, And while they live, we see their glorious actions

Whereas the great are commonly once crost, Oft wrested to the worst, and all their life

As Darius hath beene in his flowre, Is but a stage of endlesse toyle and strife,

Or Sisigambis at this houre, Of tumults, uproars, mutinies, and factions ;

Who hath scap'd long, and now at length is lost : They rise with feare, and lye with danger downe, But how comes this, that potentates oft fall

, Huge are the cares which wait upon a crowne."

And must confesse this trouble of their soule?

There is some higher pow'r that can controull, And as ambition princes under-mynes,

The monarchs of the Earth, and censure all : So doth it those who under them rule all:

Who once will call their actions to account,
We see in how short time they rise aud fall, And them represse who to oppresse were prompt.
How oft their light ecclips'd but dimmely shines;
They long time labour by all meanes to move
Their prince to value much their parts,
And when advanc'd by subtle arts,

O what a danger is 't to be above!
For, straight expos'd to hatred, and despight,

IN THE ALEXANDREAN TRAGEDY. With all their skill they cannot march so even;

But some opprobrious scandall will be given:
For all men envy them wbo have most might;

What strange adventures now
“ And if the king dislike them once, then straight Distract distressed mindes
The wretched courtiers fall with their owne weight.” With such most monstrous formes ?

When silence doth allow Some of a sprite more poore, who would be prais’d,

The peace that nature findes, And yet have nought for which to be esteem'd,

And that tumultuous windes What they are not in deed would faine be deem'd,

Do not disturbe with stormes And indirectly labour to be rais'd.

An universall rest: This crge each publicke place of honour haunts,

When Morpheus bath represt And (changing garments every day)

Th' impetuous waves of cares, Whilst they would hide, do but bewray

And with a soft sleepe bindes With outward ornaments their inward wants;

Those tyrants of tbe brest,

(snares And men of better judgement justly loath

Which would spread forth most dangerous Those, who in outward shows place all their care,

To sink affliction in despaires : And decke their bodies, whil'st their miudes are bare,

Huge horrours then arise Like to a shadow, or a painted cloth,

The elements to marre, 'The multitude, which but th' apparell notes,

With most disastrous signes: Doth homage, not to them, but to their cotes,

Arm'd squadrons in the skjes,

With lances throwne from farre, Yet princes must be serv'd, and with all sorts:

Do make a monstrous warre,
Some both to do, and counsell what is best,

Whil'st furie nought confines:
Some serve for cyphers to set out the rest,
Like life-lesse pictures which adorne the ports;

The dragons vomit fire,

And make the starres retire Faire palaces replenish'd are with feares,

Out of their orbes for feare,
Those seeming pleasures are but snares,

To satisfie their ire,
The royall robe doth cover cares;
Th’ Assyrian dye deare buys he who it beares;

Which Heaven's high buildings not forbear,

But seem the crystall towres to teare; Those dainty delicates, and farre-fetch'd food,

Amidst this ayre, fierce blasts Oft (through suspition) savour out of season,

Due boast with blustring sounds
Embrodred beds, and tapestries hatch treason;

To crush the mighty frame,
The golden goblets mingled are with bloud.
Such shows the shadows are when greatnesse shives,

Which,(whilst the tempest lasts)

Doth rent the stately rounds, Whose state by them the gazing world divines.”

To signifie what wounds O happie he who, farre from fame, at home,

7o all her off-spring's shame, Securely sitting by a quiet fire,

Shall burst th' Earth's vaynes with bloud, (Though having little) doth not more desire,

And this all-circling ilond
But first himselfe, then all things doth orecome; (As it the Heavens would drowne)
His purchase weigh'd, or what his parents left, Doth passe the bounding bounds,
He squares his charges to his store,

And all the scalie brood
And takes not what he must restore,,

Reare roaring Neptune's foamie crowne, Nor eates the spoyles that from the poore were reft: Whilst th’Earth for feare seems to sinke downe:

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Those whom it bid, with horrour

And thongh none did sterne laws impart, Their ashy lodgings leave,

That might to virtue men compell, To re-enjoy the light,

Each one, by habit, in his heart Or else some panicke terrour

Had grav'd a law of doing wel!: Our judgement did bereave,

And did all wickedness forbeare
Whilst first we misconceive,

Of their free-will, and not for feare.
And so prejudge the sight;
Or, in the bodie's stead,

The first who spoild the publick rest,
The genius of the dead

And did disturb this quiet state, Turnes backe from Styx againe,

Was Avarice, the greatest pest Which Dis will not receive,

Which doth of darknesse fill the seat;
Till it a time, engendring dread,

A monster very hard to daunt,
Plagne (whilst it doth on th' Earth remaine) Leane, as dry'd up with inward care,
All else with feare, it selfe with paine.

(Though full of wealth) for feare of want These fearefall signes fore-show

Still at the borders of despayre; (All nations to appall)

Scarce taking food for nature's ease, What plagues are to succeed.

Nor for the cold sufficient clothing, Since death hath lavd him low,

She whom her owne could never please, Who first had made us thrall,

Thinks all have much, and she bath ạothing: We heard that straight his fall

This daughter of sterne Pluto, still
Our liberty would breed;

Her father's dungeons strives to fill.
But this proves no reliefe:
Por, many (O what griefe !)

That monster-tamer most renown'd, • The place of one supply;

T'he'great Alcides, Thebes' glory, And we must suffer all;

Who (for twelve several labours crown'd) Thus was our comfort briefe:

Was famous made by many a story, O! rarely doe usurpers dye,

As one who all bis time had toyld
But others will their fortune try.

To purge the world of such like pests,
Who robbers rob’d, and spoylers spoyl’d,

Still humbling haughty tyrants' crests,

He by this monster once o'er-throwne,

Did passe in Spaine ore lands and floods,

And there took more than was his owne,
O happy was that guiltless age

What right had he to Gerion's goods?
When as Astræa liv'd below:
And that Bellona's barbarous rage

Thus Avarice the world deceives,

And makes the greatest conquerors slaves. Did not all order quite o'rethrow. Then whil'st all did themselves content With that thing which they did possesse,

Ah! when to plague the world with griefe, And gloried in a little rent,

This poore-rich monster once was borne,

Then weakness could finde no reliefe, As wanting meanes to make excesse;

And subtiltie did conscience scorne: Those could no kind of want bemone,

Yet some who labour'd to recall For, craving nought, they had all things :

That blisse which gilded the first age, And since none sougbt the regal throne,

Did punishment prepare for all, Whilst none were subjects, all were kings :

Who did their thoughts in vice engage ; " O! to true blisse their course was set,

And yet the more they laws did bring, Who got to live, nor live to get."

That to be good might men constraine, Then innocency naked liv'd,

The more they sought to do the thing And had no need, nor thooght of armes,

From which the laws did thein restraine. Whil'st spightful sprits no meanes contriv'd, So that by custome alter'd quite, To plague the simple sort with harmes ;

The world in ill doth most delight. Then snaring laws did not exiend

The bounds of reason as they do,
Strife oft begun where it should end,
One doubt but cleard to foster two:

By conscience then all order stood,
By which darke things were soone discern'd,

Lor, how all good decayes,
Wbil'st all behov'd there to be good,

And ills doe now abound; Whereas no evill was to be learn'd:

In this sky-compass'd round, And how could any then prove naught,

There is no kinde of trust : Whil'st by example virtue taught?

For, man-kinde whilst it strayes

In pleasure-paved wayes, Then mortals' mindes all strong and pure,

With fouds of vice is drown'd; Free from corruption lasted long,

And doth (farre from refuge) (By innocency kept secure)

In endlesse shadowes lodge, When none did know how to do wrong:

Yet strives to rise no more: Then sting’d with no suspicious thought,

No doubt (as most unjust) Men mischief did from none expect:

The world once perish must, For what in them could not be wrought,

And worse now to restore, In others they would not suspect ;

Then it was of before,

When at the last delage,

The great men not for nought, Men by Deucalion once

Doe seeke the people's love: Were made againe of stones;

Their deeds that to approve, And well this wicked race

They may their mindes allure: Bewrayes a stony kinde,

But Perdiccas is thought, Which beares a stubborne minde,

Too slowly to have sought Still hardned unto sime.

Their doubtfull mindes to move, Loe, now in every place

As one who still conceits All vertuous motions cease,

He may command the fates; And sacred faith we finde,

His pride so great is growne, Farre from the earth is fled,

That none can it endure; Whose Alight huge mischiefe bred,

Yet stands his state unsure, And filles the world with warres,

Since odious to his owne: Whilst impious brests begin

“ He must be once orethrowne, To let base treason in :

Whose humour each man hates, Which common concord marres,

Pride doth her followers all
Whilst all men live at jarres,

Lead head-longs to a fall."
And nets of fraud doe spreade,
The simple to surprise,
Too witty, but not wise;
Yet those who in deceit

Their confidence repose,
A thing more deare doe lose

Ah, ah! though man the image of great love, Then can by guile be gain'd;

And, th' onely creature that gives Reason place, Which when repented late,

With reverence dae unto the powres above, May ruine once their state,

His heavenly progeny should seeke to prove, Whilst purer sprites disclose

By still resembling the immortall kinde; With what their breasts are stor'd;

Yet makes the world our better part so blinde, For, though they would remord,

That we the clouds of vanity imbrace, They get not trust againe ;

And from our first excellency decline; But, having honour stain'd,

This doth distinguish that celestiall grace, (love, And covenants prophan'd,

Which should make soules to burne with vertue's Are held in high disdaine,

Whose fancies vice luxuriously now feasts; “ And doe in end remaine,

“ Vice is the Circe that enchants the minde, Of all the world abhorrid;

And doth transforme her followers all in swine; Not trusty when they should,

Whil'st poyson'd pleasures so corrupt our tastes, Not trusted when they would :”

That of halfe-gods, we make our selves wholeBut ah! our nobles now,

And yet of ruthlesse Pluto's raging host, [beasts :" Loe, like Lysander still,

The vice which doth transport presumptuous hearts, So that they get their will,

And makes men from the gods to differ most, Regard not by what way,

Is cruelty, that to the sufferer's cost, And with a shamelesse brow,

And actor's both, is often-times appeasid: Doe of the end allow,

The gods delight to give, and to forgive, Even though the meanes were ill ;

By pardoning, and not by plagueing pleas'd; Which all the world may see,

And why should men excogitate strange arts, Disgraceth their degree,

To show their tyranny, as those who strive Who (changing every houre)

To feed on mischiefe, though the author smarts, Doe all base slights assay;

Oft for the deed of which himselfe did boast, What can brave mindes dismay,

Whil'st whence the blow first came, the griefe doth Whose worth is like a tower,

turne? Against all fortune's pow'r,

“ For, that by which the minde at first was eas'a, Still from all fraud whilst free?

May it in th' end the greatest burden give; “ These keepe their course unknowne,

Oft those whose cruelty makes many mourne, Whom it would blame if showne:''

Do by the fires which they first kindled burne; Who not from worth digresse,

Of other tyrants which oppresse the minde, To slights which feare imparts,

With pleasure some delight it, in such sort Doe show heroicke hearts,

That first the hony, then the gall we finde; The which would rather farre

And others (though from honor's court declin'd) An open hate professe,

Some comfort yeeld (but base) by hope of gaine; Then basely it suppresse:

And, though some make us to be loath'd of one, “ No glory comes from fearefull arts:" We by their meanes another's love obtaine; But those who doe us lead,

But cruelty, with which none can comport, As for dissembling made,

Makes th' authors bated when the deed is done, Even though that they intend

Oft even by those whom it did most support, Amongst themselves to warre,

As that wbich alienates men from their kinde; Seeme in no sort to jarre,

And as humanity the minde enchaunts, But friendship doe pretend,

So barbarous soules which from the same refraine, Not like their lord now dead,

More fierce than savage beasts, are lov'd of none : Who trusting to his worth,

Since with such beasts one with lesse danger baunts, Still what he meant spake forth ;

Then with the inan whose mind, all mercy wants ;" VOL. V.


Yet though the minde of man, as strong, and rude, 1 Though by the multitude they be admir'd,
Be ravish'd oft with violent desire,

That still to pow'r doth show it selfe submisse;
And must, if fir'd with rage, be quench'd with bloud, Yet by the soule still further is requirid,
How can this tender sexe, whose glory stood Which should seale up th'accomplishment of joy;
In having hearts inclin'd to pity, still

“ Thus partiall judgements blindely ayme amisse, It selfe delight in any barbarous deed ?

At things which stand without our reach retird, For, Nature seemes in this to use her skill,

Which whilst not ours, as treasures we define, In making womens' mindes (though weake) entire, But not the same whilst we the same enjoy; That weaknesse might, love, and devotion breed; Some things a farre doe like the glow-worme sbine, To which their thoughts (if pure) might best aspire, which look't too neere, have of that light no signe. As aptest for th' impressions of all good, But from the best to worst all things do weare;

No charge on th' Earth more weighty to discharge, Since cruelties from feeble mindes proceed, (feare 0! those who manage must the reynes of state,

Then that which of a kingdome doth dispose: “ In breasts where courage failes, spite, shame and Make envy, hate, and rigour rule to beare.”

Till their pale ghost imbarke in Charon's barge, Our queene Olympias, who was once so great,

They never need t attend a true repose: And did such monstrous cruelties commit,

How hard is it to please each man's conceit, In plaguing Philip, and his queene of late,

When gaining one, they must another lose? Loe, now brought low to taste the like estate,

Thus, hardly kings themselves can evenly beare, Must take such entertainment as she gave,

Whom if severe (as cruell) subjects hate; And yet good reason that it should be so,

Contempt dare to the milde it selfe oppose; “Such measure as we give, we must receive."

Who spare in time, as niggards are despis’d, Whilst op a throne she proudly earst did sit,

Men from too franke a minde, exactions feare, And with disdainefull eyes look'd on her foe,

Though in all shapes (as Proteus ús'd) disguis’d, As onely vanquish'd by her pow'r, and wit,

Kings by some scandall alwaies are surpris’d." She did not weigh what doth proceed from fate: Yet one might well with every thing comport, 0,0! th' immortals which command above, Which on opinion onely doth depend, Of every state in hand the rudder have,

If further danger follow'd not by deeds, And as they like, can make us stay or go;

But every monarch (loe) in many a sort “ The griefe of others should us greatly move, Death (laid in ambush) alwaies doth attend; As those who sometime may like fortune prove; Of some by mut'nous swords the life forth bleeds; But as experience with rare proofes hath showne, By unsuspected poyson others end, To look on others, have linx-his eyes,

Which whilst they alwaies labour to prevent, Whilst we would have their imperfections knowne; A thousand deaths within their breasts life breeds; Yet (like blinde moles) can never marke our owne. Loe, this is all for which the great contend, Such clouds of selfe-regard do dimme our sight; Who, (whilst their pride themselves and others Why should we be pufř'd up when foes do fall ?

spoiles) Since what to day doth on another light,

With their dominions doe their cares augment: The same to morrow may our state surprise. “ And O vaine man who toyl'st to double toyles, Those that on this inconstant constant ball

Though still the victory the victor foiles :"
Do live environ'd with th' all-circling skies,
Have many meanes whereby to be ore-throwne:

Thus Alexander could not be appeas'd,

Whilst he to raise his state did wages prepare, And why should dying worldlings swolne with wrath, So tyrannize ore an afflicted wight,

Which when made most, diminish'd most remain'd, Since miseries are common uuto all?

Where (with his father's bounds bad he beene Let none be proud who draw a doubtfull breath,

pleas'd) Good hap attends but few, unto their death."

He might have left our crowne sure to his heire,
Who by his conquest nought but death hath gaya'd;
Yet for no paines a number now doth spare,

To worke for that by which his wreake was wrought,

Which (though from it they rage to be restrain'd) • What damned furies thus tosse mortals' mindes,

Would (if possest) their pleasures but impaire: With such a violent desire to raigne?

Yet they by harme of others seeke the thing That neither honour, friendship, duty, bloud,

Which by their harme of others will be sought:

“ To him and his, each of them death would bring, Nor yet no band so sacred is as bindes Ambitious thoughts which would a kingdome gaine:

That it might once be said he was a king. But all is buried in blacke Lethe's floud,

We may securely sitting on the shore, That may the course of soveraignty restraine, Whilst great men doe (as toss'd on th'ocean) grone Which from the brest doth all respects repell, Taught by their toyles, esteeme much of our rest: And like a torrent cannot be gaine-stood:

For tbis doth thousands with affliction store, Yea many would, a scepter to obtaine,

Which of the world as most unhappy moane, In spite of all the world, and love's owne wrath, If they but chance to view some few more blest, March through the lowest dungeons of the Hels, Where if they would but marke, how many a one And from a diademe would breath with pow'r, More wretch'd then they in misery doth live, Though all death's engines brag’d them every houre,” It straight would calme the most unquiet brest ;

The cottage oft is happier then the throne ; Yet, though such restlesse mindes attaine jo th’end To thinke our owne state good, and others' ill, The height to which their baughty hearts aspir'd, It could not but a great contentment give: They never can embrace that dreamed blisse, There much consists in the conceit and will: Which their deluded thoughts did apprehend ; To us all things are as we thinke them still."

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