University of Virginia Library

Chorus.

The noble house at length of high renowne,
The famous stocke of auncient Inachus,
Apeasd & layd the threats of brethrē down
But nowe what fury styrs & driues you thus
Eche one to thyrst the others bloud agayne,
Or get by guylt the golden Mace in hande?
Yee litle wote that so desyre to raygne,
In what estate or place doth kyngdome stande.
Not ritches makes a kyng or high renowne,
Not garnisht weede wyth purple Tyrian die,
Not lofty lookes, or head encloasde with crowne,
Not glyttring beames with golde and turrets hie.
A Kyng he is that feare hath layde aside,
And all affects that in the breast are bred:
VVhom impotent ambition doth not guide,
Nor fickle fauour hath of people led.
Nor all that west in mettalls mynes hath founde,
Or chanell cleere of golden Tagus showes,
Nor all the grayne that thresshed is on grounde,
That with the heate of libyk haruest glowes.
Nor whom the flasshe of lightning flame shall beate,
Nor eastern wynde that smightes vpon the seas,
Nor swelling surge with rage of vvynde repleate,
Or greedy Gulphe of Adria displease.
VVhom not the pricke of Souldiers sharpest speare,
Or poyncted pyke in hand hath made to rue,
Nor whom the glympse of swoorde myght cause to feare,
Or bright drawen blade of glyttring steele subdue.
VVho in the seate of safty sets his feete,
Beholdes all haps how vnder him they lye,
And gladly runnes his fatall day to meete,
Nor ought complaynes or grudgeth for to dye.
Though present vvere the Prynces euerychone,
The scattered Dakes to chase that vvonted bee,
That shyning seas beset with precious stone,
And red sea coastes doe holde, lyke bloud to see:
Or they vvhich els the Caspian mountaynes hye,
From Sarmats strong with all theyr power vvithholde:
Or hee that on the floude of Danubye,
In frost a foote to trauayle dare bee bolde:
Or Seres in vvhat euer place they lye,
Renownde with fleece that there of sylke doth spring,
They neuer might the truth hereof denye,
It is the mynde that onely makes a king.
There is no neede of sturdie steedes in warre,
No neede with armes or arrowes ells to fight,
That Parthus woonts with bowe to fling from farre,
VVhyle from the fielde hee falsely fayneth flight.
Nor yet to siege no neede it is to bringe
Great Guns in Carts to ouerthrowe the wall,
That from farre of theyr battring Pellets slyng.
A kyng hee is that feareth nought at all.
Eche man him selfe this kyngdome geeues at hand.
Let who so lyst with mighty mace to raygne,
In tyckle toppe of court delight to stand
Let mee the sweete and quiet rest obtayne.
So set in place obscure and lowe degree,
Of pleasaunt rest I shall the sweetnesse knoe.
My lyfe vnknowne to them that noble bee,
Shall in the steppe of secret sylence goe.
Thus when my dayes at length are ouer past,
And tyme without all troublous tumult spent,
An aged man I shall depart at last,
In meane estate, to dye full well content.
But greeuous is to him the death, that when
So farre abroade the bruite of him is blowne,
That knowne hee is to much to other men:
Departeth yet vnto him selfe vnknowne.