University of Virginia Library

When claime is iustly made in quiet passage,
And no iust answer giu'n to nobl' Embassage;
It matters not, if Kings obtaine their right
Against an Enemie, by force or slight.
So when Hydaspes by a warlike wile,
Pretending treatie, got his Mine of Phile;
A Towne whereon th'Outlawes of Ægypt prest,
That was before by th'Æthiop possest;
And stood at th'vpper Cataracts of Nile,
From Elpentine and Sten thirteene mile;
The Persian, driu'n in haste to muster men,
Was full of care, and busie about it, when
Achæmenes came in; yet said, What winde
Hath set you thus vnlookt for here? the Hinde,
Ile tell my Lord in priuate; and, when all
The rest were gone, declares the criminall:
What Grecian youth was sent by Mitranes,
To serue the King, if so his Lordship please;
And how by Thyam intercept, and how
In loue with him was faln Arsace now;
Had brought him to the Palace, entertain'd him,
And though he thought, sh'had not as yet constrain'd him;
(Because the modest youth resists her still,
And will not condescend vnto her will)
Yet lest more hurt be done, as may full well.
In tract of time, he came his Lord to tell,
And doe the dutie longing to his trust.
This mou'd his anger; th'other mou'd his lust,
When Grecian wench he prais'd, and said she past
The fairest now on earth, from first to last.
Of her so spoke, as hoping, when his Lord
Had done, he might her get to bed and bord;
For iust reward of seruant diligent,
In this reuealing ere it further went.

The twice-enflamed Lord, to lose no time,
An Eunuch sends forth with, of all the prime,
With fiftie horse to Memphis-ward that day,
To fetch the Grecian Captiues both away;
And letters by him; vnt' Arsace these:
This straightly thee commands Orondates;
The Grecian broth'r and sister send m'away;
By name Theagen and Chariclia;
To send the King: for captiue his they bee,
And fit to serue th'Imperiall Maiestee.
If you them send not willingly, they must
Be tane by force: thus Achæmen I trust.
And these, to th'Eunuch chiefe at Memphis Court,
Euphrates call'd; I heare of you report,
Which you shall answ'r another time; to day
Send vs Theagen and Chariclia,
By Bagoas, and, whether will or no
Arsace, send them: or we let you know,
We giue command you selfe with all disgrace,
Be brought in bonds, depriued of your place.

These vnder seale he gaue, to bring them downe
With more assurance by th'assisting Towne.
To Memphis th'Eunuch, and Orondates
To warre, and takes with him Achæmenes;
On whom he sets a priute watch beside,
To keepe him safe vntill the truth be trt'de:
For, wanting proofe, he wisely thought not good
Beleeue a tale defaming Royall Blood.

Meane-while at Memphis see what falne is out:
When Thyamis with all the Priests deuout,
Had ended Calasiris funerall,
And of the Priesthood had his full install;
That well he might, now after weeke of pause,
Conuerse with strangers, by their Cloyster-lawes:
The two young Greekes he quickly cals to minde,
And earnestly them casts-about to finde.
At length he learnes they in the Palace kept,
And for their sake straight vnt' Arsace slept:
And askt her for them, as his friends, and such
As, to prouide for, doth him neerly touch,
By fathers will; and thankt her for the grace
Sh'imparted them this mourning enterspace,
That barr'd him hitherto; and now 'tis ouer,
Praid that he might their company recouer.
But she replyes, I maruell (Thyamis)
Sith our estate so well prouided is,
And sith our entertainment you commend;
You seeme to doubt it will not hold to th'end.
Not so, quoth he; for well I know, that heere
Your Ladiship maintaines more daintie cheere
Than is with vs; and better may they liue;
Such royall entertainment wont you giue:
But they well-borne, now ending pilgrimage,
Are homeward bound to see their parentage.
My selfe some reason haue, and, for my father,
Prouide them would of all things much the rather.
'Tis well (quoth she) that, anger laid aside,
You will the point of equitie abide;
Which more is alwayes on Commanders side,
Than his that hath but barely to prouide.
Haue you command, quoth he? Quoth she, I haue;
By Law of Armes that makes a Captiue slaue.
He saw she ment th'exploit of Mitranes,
Who tooke them both, set-on by Nausicles
At th'outlaw Fen, and therefore meekly said,
No warre (good Lady) now; but all's apaid
With peace on either side. Peace setteth free,
All that in time of warre captiued bee.
This is the royall Law of Armes; and all
That this oppose are thought tyrannicall.
Besides (Arsace) let me tell you true,
'Tis no wayes honourabl' or good for you,
Such youth, so strange, with so peruerse a will,
To say and meane you must imprison still.

This madded her (as wantons of that age,
Concealed blush; but manifested rage)
And, thinking Thyamis conceiu'd the truth
Of her enclining to the Grecian youth,
She said, I care not for your Priesthood I;
Perhaps yourselfe full deare yet shall abuy
The death of Mitranes: and, as for these,
I will reserue them for Orondates.
In spight of Rhet'ricke and your lawfull bands,
It shall be done that Maiestie commands.
The King shall haue them; for his flaues they be;
And, as for you, be gone. So parted he,
Imploring helpe diuine: and thought to raise
The Citie vpon her, making known her wayes.
But she to chamber straight, and must aduise
With Gammer Cyb: In these perplexities,
What shall I doe (quoth she)? I cannot slake
This flame of loue, nor him more yeelding make:
But rather worse he seemes; that heretofore
With some hope fed me, promising still more;
Hee flatly now denies, as something heard,
Of Achæmen, that I am much afeard.
But let him be beleeu'd, or not beleeu'd,
If vnt' Orondates I shew me greeu'd,
And flattring weepe; all were he ne're so rough,
It makes him milde; I shall doe well enough.
But here's the mischiefe, that before I see
My minde fulfill'd, preuented shall I bee,
With tale him could, perhaps be made to die
Before he heare me speake, or see me crie.
Wherefore vse all your skill; and cast about
With what deuice you can to helpe me out.
Or, if my selfe to kill I doe not care,
Assure thy selfe I will not others spare:
And thou art like be first for this good deed
Of Achæmen thy sonne (ill mote he speed!)
And thou wert priuie to't, or I mistake.

Good Madam (quoth she) better reck'ning make
Of both your seruants; and take heart vnto you;
Or else this care will vtterly vndoe you.
Too milde you are, and flatter, not command
Theagenes your slaue: at former hand
'Twas not amisse, reputing him a boy;
But now he stands a tip-toe, proudly coy
Against his louing Lady, let him know
He shall be forc'd with many a stripe, and blow,
And other torments to performe your will;
Then doe not flatter so and please him still.
'Tis right (quoth she) you say: but how can I,
That loue him thus, endure his miserie?
O Madam, y'are too pitifull, quoth shee;
And cannot speed while thus affect you bee,
Not weighing well, how, aft'r a little paine,
Both he and you shall haue a merrie vaine.
Nor need you see't: but let Euphrates lay
Some small correction on him eu'rie day,
Till he relent; she likes her suttletee.
To heare a thing, so moues not, as to see.
And loue, when once it growes so desperate,
Can be content, that loued was to hate,
And venge repulse. Commandment then she gaue;
Euphrates should torment him like a slaue,
As for some fault in waiting. Eunuchs all
Are giu'n to jealousie; and he the more
Theagenes afflicts; for that before
He well obseru'd, and all the signes had seene
Of loue him-to that shew'd the wanton Queene:
With knottie whips he teares his tender skin,
While manacles and shackles hold him in:
With hung'r and thirst him pinches, and no light
By day him shewes; nor lets him rest at night.
Not so Arsace meant, yet worse than so
Did Gammer Cyb pretend her minde to know:
For none but she came there; though with pretence
To bring him meat, 'twas for intelligence.

And when she saw him so maintaine the field
Against her plot, and by no meanes would yeild;
The more his body is beaten downe, the more
His minde was rais'd with chaster loue to soare:
And thought, if this Chariclia did but know,
It tooke away the paine of eu'rie blow;
And cri'd in torment either night or day,
My loue, my light, my life Chariclia:

When this the Gammer heard and saw, she thought
This Virgin liuing all their plot was nought:
And now she feares, if by Achæmenes
(As like it was) be told Orondates,
Lest she be soundly paid for all; and lest
Arsace kill her selfe; wherefore the beast
Is all on killing set now, to remoue
What euer hinder'd her sicke Ladies loue;
To bar intelligence, to saue her hide;
And one day to her Lady thus she cri'de:

Madam, we worke in vaine as long as she,
On whom builds all his hope this stubborne he
Is suffer'd still to liue: but, were she gone,
We should doe well enough with him alone.
The louesicke Lady on this laid present hold,
In ang'r and jealousie for that was told;
You tell me true, quoth she, and I ere night
Will order take she stand not in my light.
But how (quoth Cybel)? By the Persian Lawes
You may not kill, but shew and proue the cause;
Which asketh time to plot: but Ile to day,
If you thinke good, her rid quite out of way,
By draught of poys'n: it likes Arsace well;
About-it goes this Chamberlaine of Hell.

She found Chariclia weeping bitterly,
And, more than so, deuising how to dye:
For now she gan suspect the cruell case
Theagenes was in; that all this space
Came not at her: though Cybel fain'd excuse,
And said he was restrain'd for some abuse,
Or little fault in seruice: but by my
Most earnest suit was dealt with graciously,
And shall be still, and out of doubt ere night
At libertie; therefore plucke-vp your sprite,
And doe not thus with mourning pine away;
My Lady makes her marriage-feast to day.
Refresh your selfe; that when your Louer comes,
You may with ioy receiue him and the Groomes.
Behold some dainties haue I brought you heere;
Come, let's fall-to, 'tis of my Ladies cheere.
You vse (quoth she) so much me to deceiue,
That, what you say, I hardly can beleiue.
Th'equiuocating witch deuoutly sweares
She should to day be rid of all her cares.

So downe they sit and eat, and lesse in feare
Chariclia now, for that she heard her sweare,
And hope of that she promis'd. What we wish
We soone beleeue. Then ate they flesh and fish,
And other dainties; Aura giues the cup,
Made ready for Chariclia to sup,
To Cybel-selfe; she drinkes it off mistooke,
And felt it straight, and cast a cruell looke
Vpon her Maid. I wish there might vnt'all,
That goe about such wickednesse, befall
The like mistake! the poyson was so strong
Prepar'd for youth; that soone it laid along
That aged witch. Yet she amids her maine
Convulsing, swelling, staring, twitching paine,
While belly bursts, and sinewes cracke, and shrinke,
Declares a minde more poys'nous than the drinke.
For signe she made, to some then standing-by,
As if Chariclia made her so to dye;
Poore innocent, amas'd at such a stound,
And oft attempting her to raise from ground.
But helpe of man or woman littl' auailes,
When poyson strong the vitall part assailes.
Her skin was blacke, and out start both her eyes,
And with her mouth awry there dead she lyes.

The guiltlesse Virgin, neuer vs'd to bands,
But silke, vnti'de and ti'de with softest hands,
In case she was is rapt from off the ground,
And with rough cord t'Arsace carri'd bound.
The iealous Lady threatens with excesse
Of paine to force her, but she would confesse
Her poys'ning Cybel. (Marke what innocence
Can make one doe, and guiltlesse conscience!)
She came not drooping; but with cheerfull grace
Of Princely courage (Feare attends the base)
And, glad to see, that, where through griefe she thought
To kill her selfe, it should by them be wrought,
Said, goodly Princesse, if Theagenes
Be yet aliue, then (set your heart at ease)
I did it not: but, if by your designe
He's made away, the deed was only mine:
I slue your Nurse, that hath so well you taught,
And in these honourable wayes vp-brought,
Come take reuenge, you cannot better please
Your refractorie man Theagenes.
O noble he, that could so well withstand
So wicked purpose and so cruell hand!
With this enrag'd, the lust-sicke Lady spent
Some blowes on her, and presently her sent
Bound as she was t'her chiefe Eunuch Euphrate;
There to behold her louers like estate;
And safe be kept, vntill the morning come,
When heare she should the Iudges deadly doome.
And as she's led away that Aura came,
Dame Cybels Maid, and lowdly gan exclame;
Alas poore innocent! the standers-by
Constraine her plainly speake; she said, 'twas I
The poyson'd cup mistooke, and gaue the same,
Which vnto this I should, vnto my Dame.
T'Arsace carri'd, there she sayes the like:
The raging Lady was about to strike,
Yet held, and said, this also had conspir'd
My Nurses death, thereto by th'other hir'd:
Away with her, away with her, and let her
Be safely kept in manacle and fetter
T'abide the doome. Then for the Iudges sent,
And next day shew'd the cause of their conuent.
She cri'd my Nurse, alas my Nurse is gone;
Yea poyson'd, poyson'd, by this wretched one,
Whom I receiu'd with all humanitie;
(My Lords, you know) and yet this thanke haue I.
And sobbing, sighing, weeping, wringing hand,
(Such women haue their teares at their command)
She said what could be said in such a mood;
And yet Chariclia made her saying good.
Nay more, confest she would Arsace selfe,
That wicked wretch, that lust-sicke wanton Elfe
Haue made away; but that she was preuented:
And that she mist her purpose much lamented.
Although, in truth, she ne're had such a thought,
But, miserie t'auoid, her death so sought,
As was in their conceit most like to speed;
And so in prison were they both agreed:
When hardest heart constraine it would to rue,
The lamentable sight of their adiew.
Her Iewels all the Cradle-band wrapt-in,
Were ti'd about her twixt her smocke and skin:
That at her death pretended criminall,
They might supply the want of funerall.

But now the Iudges hearing her confesse
The crime at large, and rather more than lesse;
According false Arsaces hearts desire,
Condemne the guiltlesse to be burnt with fire.
The crime proclaim'd nor better was nor worse,
Then for the poys'ning Lady Arsaces Nurse.
Tormentors lead her forth without the walls;
And such a sight the people much appals.
Arsace, for successe of her inuents,
Comes forth her selfe vpon the battlements:
And for she would not lose her pleasant sight,
Of louers torment standing in her light.

But when the fire was ready and flam'd aloft,
Chariclia them that led her pray'd goe soft,
And giue her leaue to speake; and loud she cri'de,
O Sunne and Heauen! can any from you hide
This cruell fact? I suffer willingly,
But innocent, to put-off miserie.
For this I pardon craue: but as for her,
This woman monster, femall Gouerner,
That cares not what she doth in lusts-excesse,
To take my husband, filthy Adulteresse;
O pay her home! these words with resolution,
Made some prepare to stay that execution.
But she preuents them, mounting as to game,
And straight way sate as in a throne of flame:
For by degrees the pile about her stood
Of straw, of sedge, of reed and solid wood.
What need I names of sundrie trees compute?
Of eu'rie kinde there was that bore no fruit.
The bearing tree is priuiledg'd from fire,
Which vnto th'other payes deserued hire.
And now her beautie, by resplendent shine
Of flashing light, appeares the more diuine;
Yet burnt she not; although to speed her death,
And rid her of this vndelightsome breath,
Faine would she burne; and though from sted to sted
She follow'd still the fire, the fire her fled.
Whereat she wonders much and all that saw't:
Arsace sees it from the mutall vault,
And threatens her tormentors; they fling-on
More straw, sedge, reed and wood; fire all anon
And more deuoures; and yet no whit the more
Came nigh the Maid; nor heat vnto her bore.
The peopl' are mou'd, and twice or thrice they said;
The Maid is guiltlesse, guiltlesse is the Maid;
And droue the Tortors off, by Thyamis
Stirr'd-vp thereto, that com'n was there by this.
And, though they could themselues approach do nier,
They stood aloofe, and call'd her from the fire.
Which when she heard and saw; the Gods she thought
To shew her innocence that wonder wrought.
And, lest she should vnthankfull seeme, she came
Forth all vnhurt amid the yeelding flame.

The Towne for ioy and wonder gaue a shout,
Which made Arsace as mad come running out,
With all her Guard, and Noblemen of Perse;
And on Chariclia she, then looking fierce,
Laid hand her selfe, and said with rage enflam'd;
What meane this peopl'? and are you not asham'd
To hinder justice on this wicked wretch?
Whom more condemnes that you to wonder stretch.
For poys'ners all, and witches are the same;
And by her witchcraft hath she scapt the flame.
Come all to morrow to the Iudgement Hall,
And there you shall be satisfied all:
Then her by shoulder griping led away,
As cruell Faulcon seiseth on her pray.
Such as liue wicked, woman bee't or man,
The noting scape not; doe they what they can,
They shall be curst aliue, and trod-on dead,
By all them knew: whereas the blamelesse head,
Th'vntainted life, such honours fame attaines,
As flies all ore the land-and-water Maines.

No sooner came they to the Palace gate,
But sent againe the Virgin is t'Euphrate,
And harder bound; not so to keepe her in,
As purposely to fret her tender skin.
Yet all in good she tooke, and more at ease,
As fellow-pris'ner with Theagenes.
Although Arsace will'd it so for spight,
That one might grieue the more at others sight;
For Louers more at paine of their Beloued,
Than at their owne, are lamentably moued;
But they to comfort turne it, while they striue
To shew their loue in bearing well the guiue.
And now each oth'r exhorts they stoutly stand
T'endure the worst Arsace could command,
Before they faile in faith so firmly plighted;
And so they talke-on till they were benighted.
Nor slept they then; because they deemed, either,
This was the last that they should talke together.
At length they minde the miracl' at the fire
And what might be the cause thereof enquire.
He said it was the grace of Pow'r Diuine,
That caus'd the fire an Innocent decline.
Why then (quoth she) abide we more and more,
Th'vniust commands of this vsurping whore?
But now I call to minde a dreame I had;
Thus Calasire me thought in verse it radde.
Pantarbe wearing feare thou not the flame;
With such a vertue Nature did it frame.
Therewith Theagenes, as much as guyues
Would suffer him, leaps, and his heart reuiues,
Remembring what he likewise dreampt last night:
That such a verse him Calasiris dight.
To Blackmorland the Maid with thee shall come;
And scape to morrow fell Arsaces doome.

I see (quoth he) whereto these verses tend;
To Blackmorland, that is vnto mine end,
The land of shaddowes, and Proserpina
The Maid is whom I must attend to day.
And scape Arsaces doome, that is, be free
From bodies bond, in Soules simplicitee.
And for your verse (sweet heart) what doth it say,
But may be turn'd or this, or th'other way?
Pantarbe signifies of all thing Feare.
Yet Feare not fire (it saith) yee that it weare.

Then she, my heart, my deere Theagenes,
O be not led with such conceits as these!
Whom Fortune much afflicts he cannot choose
But feare the worst, and still on ruine muse.
Ye men will say that women passe for toung;
And I haue liu'd so much the Greekes among,
That well I know this Tarbos oft is read,
As well for great amazement, as for dread:
And, for a stone so much t'oppose the fire,
It may amaze and make men all admire.
Then heare me rather, this your Maid is I,
Whom you shall bring home vnt'Æthiopie,
(For is not that the proper Blackmans roome?)
And so escape this fell Arsaces doome;
But how 'twill be I know not though I know
The Power for showing can effect the show.
And who would thinke that I should hitherto
Ha scaped death? and yet you see I doe.
And when I bore my helpe about me, (loe!)
That then I knew not, now I plainly know:

Among my mothers jewels there is one,
That bindes in gold a rare Pantarbe stone:
I had them all about me when I went
Condemn'd to fire: for if I scapt, I ment
They should maintaine me; if I di'd withall;
Me stand in stead of solemne funerall.
And now I thinke that this so wondrous thing
Is only wrought by that Pantarbe-ring,
As pleas'd the Gods; And often Calasire
Me told it was an Antidote to fire;
Though then I thought not on't, nor euer since;
Till now the triall did the truth euince.
Well haue you said (quoth he) for that is past;
But what Pantarbe shall vs saue at last;
Or from to morrowes doome? Good hope, quoth she,
And trust in that to come, as that we see
Faln-out, according to the Pythian verse;
You know't so well, I need it not rehearse.
Our fatall rest we seeke through much anoy,
Whereon to thinke hereafter shall vs ioy.

Thus were they talking till the night grew deepe,
And neuer minded any rest or sleepe:
Till Bagoas his troope with quicke dispatch
To Memphis brought, and softly rais'd the watch,
Well known at first; let-in, he cast a list
About the Palace, lest the Court resist;
And, by a secret way he knew, forthright,
T'Euphrates came, the Moone affording light.
In bed asleepe he was, and thus awak'd,
Began to raue, till Bagoas him slak'd,
And said, 'tis I, and call'd t'a boy for light;
And when it came Euphrates said; by night
Thus vnexpected (Bago's)? what's the cause?
He said no more, but bid him read the clause
Of both those letters, marking seale and hand,
How 'twas Orondates did this command,
That must be done: here add, and said, I dare not
Shew this t'Arsace; left her selfe she spare not,
Nor any about her: leaue them with her will
I know she cannot; rather kill, kill, kill
The First she meets, and all that her oppose;
For now vniust and tyrannous she growes;
To say no more. And you in time are come,
To saue these strangers from a deadly doome.
Then doe them good; for they haue suffer'd much;
Not with my will: but her command was such.
They are (no doubt) some Imps of noble blood;
So vertuously dispos'd, so milde, so good,
I finde their nature: then th'row prison led
His fellow Gelding to the manacled;
And hard it is to tell with what compassion,
The new-come Eunuch heard their lamentation;
Who sigh'd to see, for beauties excellence,
Of either sex, th'afflicted innocence.

But when they saw him come in so by night,
A man vnknown, at first they were affright:
But soone againe with liuely and cheerfull grace
Lift-vp their heads, and said; Thus thinkes Arsace
To hide her wicked deeds, and deadly spight?
No, no; the Gods shall bring them all to light:
But doe as y'are enioyn'd, with sword vs strike,
Or burne, or drowne, so both togeth'r alike.

To heare these words, it made those Eunuchs weepe;
But forth they lead them while the Court's asleepe.
Euphrates staies, and Bagoas proceeds;
Who mounts the pris'ners on two goodly steeds;
And, but for safetie, not to hurt them, bound;
Then, (ring of horsemen cast about them round)
With foure-foot hoofe they thund'r vpon the glebes,
And haste away for hundred-gated Thebes.
So rid they till the Sun was three houres high,
And neuer litte; then, wexing hot and drie,
And nodding some on horse for want of sleepe;
But chiefly that they might refresh, and keepe
In health the Maid, they turne aside and stay,
Where Nilus winding made a grassie Bay;
Almost an Island (that I may not faine)
With narrow land-necke joyned to the maine:
The place by nature was so fortifi'de,
That there they might all out of danger bide.
And there in shade of sweet and fruitfull plants,
In stead of tent, thought good supply their wants:
Eu'n vnder th'Arbours bearing sweetest gums,
Dates, berries, grapes, nuts, apples, peares and plums.
The Beame there burnes at quarter part of race;
So them to rest inuites both time and place:
For trees not only of eu'rie kinde there grew;
But Meddow-starres, white, yellow, red and blew.
The daintie Florist (said bee't vnder pardon)
Hath not so faire, so diuers in her garden.
For there together dwell Pomone and Flore:
Betwixt the trees sprung sleepie Mandragore,
The Marigold, the Buls-eye, th'Æmonine,
The duoble King-cup, Daisie, Sops-in-wine;
Cloue-Gilliuer, and Gilliuer of stocke,
Pinke, Vi'let, Cowslip, Primrose, Ladies-smocke;
And past them all for colour, sent, and juyce,
The crimson Rose, and golden Flow'r-de-luce.
So many dainties neuer was their borne
by wanton Nymph in Achelous horne.
And there the sweet and daintie plants among,
The winged Quiristers record their song.
There th'Eunuch broke his fast, and offer'd meat
To those young Greeks; they said 'twas needlesse t'eat,
For such as were so soone to die; but he
Perswaded them, and said; that should not be:
But strangers cheere yourselues, and take some ease;
To death you goe not, but t'Orondates.
The Sunne had left to shine right on their crest,
And side-ward shot his darts from out the west.
Then th'Eunuch thought it time to reset-on
And was preparing; but there comes anon
A running, panting, sweating messenger,
Who straight admitted rounded him i'th'eare.
He stood a while as in a muse; at length
Said, Courage you my guests, and gather strength:
Your enemie Arsace liues no more;
Sh'hath paid her debt so much ran on your score.
For when she heard that you were gone with mee,
She hung her selfe, preuenting Headmans fee.
This newes Euphrates sent; then doe not feare,
Now she is gone, by whom you wronged were,
That did no wrong. Thus (with some words to seeke)
He patcht them vp a speech in broken Greeke.
And glad himselfe t'escape the Tyrannesse,
Yet this he spoke to make them grieue the lesse;
And for he knew, his safe presenting these,
Would well be taken of Orondates:
Her, now Arsace's gone, to be his wife;
And him to wait, for neu'r in all his life
Had seene the like. And could the louing paire
But ioy thereat? Now pleasant eu'ning aire
(While westerne windes the Suns hot horses coole,
At point to drinke of Amphurites poole)
Inuites to trauell, th'Eunuch forward went,
And all that night and morne in iourney spent;
To finde his Lord among the Gypsie States,
Before they left that Towne of hundred gates.
But was deceiu'd: the King of Blackmorland,
Of late at Phile had got so great a hand;
That forc'd Orondates Siene-ward,
With all his pow'r, that other Towne to guard.
Th'intelligence had Bagoas that day;
So leauing Thebes, tooke Siene-way.
But comming neere the Towne, himselfe hath lost
Among fore-riders of the Blackmor Hoast;
And with his pris'ners, pris'ner is to those,
Who friends to them were, and his mortall foes.
Oh, this the dreame was, then began to say
Theagenes to his Chariclia;
And these be they, by whom we must be led,
Though captiue, to that Land with shadowes spred.
As farre to Sun-shine, blacke is like to shade,
And darke they seeme whose liuely colours fade.
Vncertaine lucke 'tis better seeke with these,
Than certaine danger with Orondates:
To these then let vs yeeld. Chariclia knew
Now well enough what was thereon t'ensue;
Or, by instinct that Nature often sends,
The blacke men thought not enemies but frends.
Yet told him not her thought; but was content
To yeeld with him, and to the blacke men went:
So forc'd was Bagoas; that with a fall
Had wrench'd his leg. The Moores then take them all;
And, wondring bid the two vnarm'd and bound,
In Gypsie or Persie what they were expound.
(For Spies are eu'r accompani'd with some
Who know the peoples languages, with whom
They haue to deale.) Theagenes discern'd
What was their minde, and, hauing Gypsie learn'd,
This answer made; Our Chiefe then (by your leaue)
An Eunuch is (and that they did perceiue
Soone by his face) attendant principall
T'Orondates th'Ægyptian Coronall
For Persian King: but as for her and me,
We Grecians are, and subiect (as you see)
To Persian bonds: and now much better hopes
Conceiue, to fall among you Æthiopes.
They take them, mount them, compasse them with ring;
And meane present them to their Blackmore King:
That now their case (to speake alludingly)
Was like the Prologue of a Comedy:
Two strangers young, that late before their eyes
Had nought but death, are here in captiue wise
Not led, but sent and with a conuoy strong,
Of such as shall their subiects be ere long.