University of Virginia Library

ACTVS. PRIMVS.

CICERO.
Vouchsafe Immortals, and (aboue the rest)
Great Iupiter, our Citties sole Protector,
That if (prouok'd against vs by our euils,)
You needs wil plague vs with your ceasles wroth,
At least to chuse those forth that are in fault,
And saue the rest in these tempestious broiles:
Els let the mischiefe that should them befall,
Be pour'd on me, that one may die for all.
Oft hath such sacrafice appeas'd your ires,
And oft yee haue your heauie hands with-held
From this poore people, when (with one mans losse,)
Your pittie hath preseru'd the rest vntucht:
But we disloiall to our owne defence,
Faint-harted do those liberties enthrall,
Which (to preserue vnto our after good)
Our fathers hazarded their derest blood.
Yet Brutus Manlius, hardie Sceuola,
And stout Camillus, are returnd fro Stix,
Desiring Armes to ayde our Capitoll.
Yea, come they are, and fiery as before,
Vnder a Tyrant see our bastard harts
Lye idely sighing, while our shamefull soules
Endure a million of base controls.
Poysoned Ambition (rooted in high mindes)
T'is thou that train'st vs into all these errors:
Thy mortall couetize peruerts our lawes,
And teares our freedom from our franchiz'd harts.
Our Fathers found thee at their former walls;
And humbled to theyr of-spring left thee dying.
Yet thou reuiuing, foyl'dst our Infant Towne,
With guiltles blood by brothers hands out-lanched.
And hongst (O Hell) vpon a Forte halfe finisht,
Thy monstrous murder for a thing to marke.
“But faith continues not where men command.
“Equals are euer bandying for the best:
“A state deuided cannot firmely stand.
“Two Kings within one realme could neuer rest.
Thys day we see, the Father and the sonne,
Haue fought like foes Pharsalias miserie;
And with their blood made marsh the parched plaines,
While th'earth that gron'd to beare theyr carkasses,
Bewail'd th'insatiat humors of them both;
That as much blood in wilfull follie spent,
As were to tame the world sufficient.
Now Parthia feare no more, for Crassus death
That we will come thy borders to besiege:
Nor feare the darts of our couragious troopes.
For those braue souldiers that were (sometime) wont
To terrifie thee with their names, are dead.
And ciuill furie, fiercer then thine hosts,
Hath in a manner this great Towne ore-turn'd;
That whilom was the terror of the world.
Of whom so many Nations stood in feare,
To whom so many Nations prostrate stoopt,
Ore whom (saue heauen) nought could signorize,
And whom (saue heauen) nothing could afright.
Impregnable, immortall, and whose power,
Could neuer haue beene curb'd, but by it selfe.
For neither could the flaxen-haird high Dutch,
(A martiall people madding after Armes,)
Nor yet the fierce and fiery humor'd French,
The More that trauels to the Lybian sands,
The Greek, Th'Arabian, Macedons or Medes,
Once dare t'assault it, or attempt to lift
Theyr humbled heads, in presence of proud Rome.
But by our Lawes from libertie restraynd,
Like Captiues lyu'd eternally enchaynd.
But Rome (alas) what helps it that thou ty'dst
The former World to thee in vassalage?
What helps thee now t'haue tam'd both land and Sea?
What helps it thee that vnder thy controll,
The Morne and Mid-day both by East and West,
And that the golden Sunne where ere he driue
His glittring Chariot, findes our Ensignes spred?
Sith it contents not thy posteritie;
But as a bayte for pride (which spoiles vs all,)
Embarques vs in so perilous a way,
As menaceth our death, and thy decay.
For Rome thou now resemblest a Ship,
At random wandring in a boistrous Sea,
When foming billowes feele the Northern blasts:
Thou toyl'st in perrill, and the windie storme,
Doth topside-turuey tosse thee as thou flotest.
Thy Mast is shyuer'd, and thy maine-saile torne,
Thy sides sore beaten, and thy hatches broke.
Thou want'st thy tackling, and a Ship vnrig'd
Can make no shift to combat with the Sea.
See how the Rocks do heaue their heads at thee,
Which if thou sholdst but touch, thou straight becomst
A spoyle to Neptune, and a sportfull praie
Toth' Glauc's and Trytons, pleasd with thy decay.
Thou vaunt'st not of thine Auncestors in vaine,
But vainely count'st thine owne victorious deeds.
What helpeth vs the things that they did then,
Now we are hated both of Gods and men?
“Hatred accompanies prosperitie,
“For one man grieueth at anothers good,
“And so much more we thinke our miserie,
“The more that Fortune hath with others stood:
“So that we sild are seene as wisedom would,
“To brydle time with reason as we should.
“For we are proude when Fortune fauours vs,
“As if inconstant Chaunce were alwaies one,
“Or standing now, she would continue thus.
“O fooles looke back and see the roling stone,
“Whereon she blindly lighting sets her foote,
“And slightly sowes that sildom taketh roote.
Heauen heretofore (enclinde to do vs good,)
Did fauour vs, with conquering our foes,
When iealous Italie (exasperate,
With our vp-rising) sought our Citties fall.
But we, soone tickled with such flattring hopes,
Wag'd further warre with an insatiate hart,
And tyerd our neighbour Countries so with charge,
As with their losse, we did our bounds enlarge.
Carthage and Sicily we haue subdude,
And almost yoked all the world beside:
And soly through desire of publique rule,
Rome and the earth are waxen all as one:
Yet now we liue despoild and robd by one,
Of th'ancient freedom wherein we were borne.
And euen that yoke that wont to tame all others,
Is heauily return'd vpon our selues.
“A note of Chaunce that may the proude controle,
“And shew Gods wrath against a cruell soule.
For heauen delights not in vs, when we doe
“That to another, which our selues dysdaine:
“Iudge others as thou wouldst be iudg'd againe.
“And do but as thou wouldst be done vnto.
“For sooth to say (in reason) we deserue,
“To haue the selfe-same measure that we serue.
What right had our ambitious auncestors,
(Ignobly issued from the Carte and Plough,)
To enter Asia? What, were they the heires
To Persia or the Medes, first Monarchies?
What interest had they to Afferique?
To Gaule or Spaine? Or what did Neptune owe vs
Within the bounds of further Brittanie?
Are we not thieues and robbers of those Realmes
That ought vs nothing but reuenge for wrongs?
What toucheth vs the treasure or the hopes,
The lyues or lyberties of all those Nations,
Whom we by force haue held in seruitude?
Whose mournfull cryes and shreekes to heauen ascend,
Importuning both vengeance and defence
Against this Citty, ritch of violence.
“T'is not enough (alas) our power t'extend,
“Or ouer-runne the world from East to West,
“Or that our hands the Earth can comprehend,
“Or that we proudly doe what lyke vs best.
“He lyues more quietly whose rest is made,
“And can with reason chasten his desire,
“Then he that blindly toyleth for a shade,
“And is with others Empyre set on fire.
“Our blysse consists not in possessions,
“But in commaunding our affections
“In vertues choyse, and vices needfull chace
“Farre from our harts, for stayning of our face.

CHORVS.