University of Virginia Library

Act 2.

Scene 1.

Crœsus,
Æsope, Solon.
What Prince hath been so favōur'd by the fates,
As could like me of full contentment boast?
Lov'd of mine own, and fear'd of forrain states,
My foes have faln, my friends were never crost;
For having that (which thousands seek, at will)
My happinesse in all things hath been such,
Heavens favorite, and fortunes Minion still,
I know not what to wish, I have so much;
Mine eyes no way did ever grieve my heart
With any object that their sight did draw;
My name applauded is in every part,
My word an Oracle, my will a law:
What brest can well confine this floud of joyes?
Whose swelling current doth o'reflow my minde,
VVhich never dream'd that which the soule annoyes,
But did in all a satisfaction finde;
I scorne vaine shadowes of conceited feares,
As one whose state is built on marble grounds:
In all my horoscope no cloud appeares,
My blisse abounds, my pleasures passe all bounds.

Æsope.
That Grecian (Sir) is at the Court arriv'd,
VVhose wisedome fame through all the world records.

Crœ.
And to extoll my state, have you not striv'd,
VVhil'st bent to sooth his eares with courteous words?

Æsope.
In all the parts where he hath chanc'd to be,
In forrain bounds, or where he first saw light,
He never did such stately wonders see,
As since this Court enriched hath his sight;
VVhen regall shewes had ravish'd first his eye,
As mountains nurslings, little simple swaines,
VVho us'd with infant flouds them never spy
Sport, portative (like Serpents) through the Plaines,
When one of them first comes to view the vailes,
And wanton water-Nymphs there (wondring) sees,
The rarenesse of the sight so much prevailes,
That rillets rivers seeme, the rivers Seas:
So all the guards that garnisht Solons way,
Did to his minde a great amazement bring,
The gallants (golden statues) made him stay;
Each Groome a Prince, each Esquire seem'd a King,
And now he comes to gaine your long'd-for sight;
Whom in his minde no doubt he doth adore,
He gaz'd on those who held of you their light,
Sunne of this soile, he must admire you more;
Now he o're all will spread your praises forth,
A famous witnesse of your glorious raigne:
“The record of one wise man is more worth,
“Then what a world of others would maintaine.

Solon.
Great Prince, doe not the loving zeale reject,
VVhich a meane man, yet a good minde affords:
And who perchance doth more your good affect,
Then those who paint their love with fairer words.

Crœ.
Thy love (sage Grecian) gratefull is to us,
Whom fame long since acquainted with thy worth,
So that we long long'd for thy presence thus,
To spy the Spring which sent such treasures forth;
Would God that many such would here resort,
Whose vertues beames would shine in every brest,
VVhose count'nance grave, would grace so great a Court,
And like a Lampe give light unto the rest.

Solon.
Spare (courteous King) that undeserved praise,
I am but one who doe the world despise,
And would my thoughts to some perfection raise,
A wisedome-lover, willing to be wise:
Yet all that I have learn'd (huge toyles now past)
By long experience, and in famous Schooles,
Is but to know my ignorance at last;
“Who think themselves most wise, are greatest fooles.

Crœ.
“This is the nature of a noble minde,
“It rather would be good, then be so thought,
“As if it had no ayme, but fame to finde,
“Such as the shadow, not the substance sought:
Yet forc'd to give that which thou wilt not take:
The world, what thou hold'st down, doth raise more high,
That which thy face thus shunnes, shines on thy back:
“Praise followes them, who what they merit flye:
And now I thinke, on th'earth no creature lives,
Who better can instruct what I would learne,
Then thou to whom franke Nature largely gives
A minde to see, a judgement to discerne.

Solon.
To satisfie your suit, my dutious care
Shall it, or then my ignorance disclose.

Crœ.
Loe, you have seene my pomp, my treasures rare,
And all the strength on which my thoughts repose.

“Solon.
Those be but dreams of blisse which fortune brings,
“To breake (by bending) foolish mortalls mindes,
“I saw but sencelesse heapes of melting things;
“A waving wealth, expos'd to many windes:
“This but the body serving to decore,
“As foolish owners it, it th' owners spends,
“Where mindes more circumspect seek better store
“Of wealth from danger free that never ends.

Crœ.
I wot not what you meane, whil'st thus in love,
With fain'd Ideas of imagin'd blisse;
By fancies drawn, such portraits doe but move
Sicke braines to dreame, that which indeed they misse;
But more I have then their conceits can show,
Whose rich conjectures breed but poore effects,
And (I beseech you) did you ever know
A man more blest then I in all respects?

Solon.
I, Tellus knew, a man whom Athens lov'd,
Who to doe good, at no occasion fail'd,
And in my judgement hath most happy prov'd,
Since while he liv'd, belov'd, whil'st dead, bewail'd;
And last (that he might reape all fruits of blisse)
His Countries beaten bands, neere put to flight,
By him encourag'd, scorn'd to be submisse,
Who dy'd victorious in two Armies sight;
More glorious now then when he was alive,
As he in heaven, on earth his happy rest,
To trace his steps, who led by Vertue strive,
Heires of his worth, and honour'd by the best.

Crœ.
Since this first place a private person gaines,
Whose fortunes treasure in short time was told,
Now next in ranke, who registred remaines,
Whose happinesse you most accomplish'd hold?

Solon.
Of Cleobis, and Bitons vertuous way,
The prosp'rous course doth to my thoughts approch:
Their mother wanting on a solemne day,
The horses which were us'd to draw her Coach,
Them to supply the place, love kindely rais'd,
Who drew her to that place of publike mirth,
Whil'st both of them abundantly were prais'd,
They for their piety, she for her birth:
This charitable worke, when brought to end,
Both dy'd, whil'st offering incense to the Gods.
Who (favour'd so) to draw them did intend,
From further danger of afflictions rods:
O happy mother! who (with true delight)
Of labours past such pleasant fruits enjoy'd,
And happy children! who did thus acquite
The mothers paine, and dyed whil'st well imploy'd.
“Ah, ah, our lives are fraile, doe what we can,
“And like the brittle glasse, breake whil'st they glance,
“Then oft the heavens to curbe the pride of man,
“Doe inter-sowre our sweets with some sad chance.

Crœ.
Is there no place appointed then for me?
Or is my state so abject in thine eyes,
That thou do'st thinke me blest in no degree,
As one, whose best in fortunes ballance lyes?
Or think'st thou me (of judgement too remisse)
A wretch expos'd to want, to scorne, or paines,
The bastard childe of fortune, barr'd from blisse,
VVhom heavens doe hate, and all the world disdaines?
Are those poore creatures then to be compar'd,
With one who may consume such in his wrath?
Who (as I please) doe punish or reward,
Whose words, nay ev'n whose lookes give life or death.

Solon.
Let not your judgement thus from reason shrinke,
To glose on that which simply comes from me;
“They who doe freely speake, no treason thinke,
“One cannot both your friend and flatterer be.
To us who Grecians are, the Gods doe grant
A moderate measure of an humble wit,
So that our Country yet did never want
Some whom the world for wise men did admit.
And yet amongst us all the greatest number
(Whil'st living) looke not for a perfect rest,
Though Fortunes minions in her bosome slumber,
And seeme to some, whom this world blindes, most blest:
Yet ov'r all mortall states, change so prevailes,
We alterations daily doe attend,
And hold this for a ground that never failes,
“None can be throughly blest before the end:
“I may compare our state to table-playes,
“Whil'st Iudges that are blinde, give onely light;
“Their many doubt the earnest minde dismayes,
“Which must have happy throwes, then use them right:
“So all our dayes in doubt, what things may chance,
“Time posts away, our breath seems it to chace,
“And when th'occasion comes us to advance,
“It of a thousand, one can scarce embrace.
When by a generous indignation mov'd,
Two fight with danger, for a doubtfull praise;
Whil'st valour blindely, but by chance is prov'd,
That ones disgrace, anothers fame must raise:
O! what a foole his judgement will commit,
To grace the one, with a not gain'd applause?
Where fortune is but to give sentence yet,
Whil'st bloudy agents plead a doubtfull cause:
“This world a field is, whereas each man fights,
“And arm'd with reason, resolutely goes
“To warre, (till death close up the bodies lights)
“Both with externall, and internall foes;
“And how can he the Victors title gaine,
“Who yet is busied with a doubtfull fight?
“Or he be happy who doth still remaine
In fortunes danger for a small delight?
“The wind-wing'd course of man, away fast weares,
“Course that consists of houres, houres of a day,
“Day that gives place to night, night full of feares:
“Thus every thing doth change, all things decay:
“Those who doe stand in peace, may fall in strife,
“And have their fame by infamy supprest:
“The evening crownes the day, the death the life;
“Many are fortunate, but few are blest.

Crœ.
I see this Grecians sprite but base appeares,
Which cannot comprehend heroicke things:
The world of him more then he merits heares,
At least he knowes not what belongs to Kings:
Yet fame his name so gloriously array'd,
That long I long'd to have him in my house;
But all my expectations are betray'd,
I thinke a Mountaine hath brought forth a Mouse.

Scene 2.

Solon,
Æsope.
This King hath put his trust in trustlesse toyes,
Whil'st courting onely temporary things,
And like a hooded Hawk, gorg'd with vaine joyes
At randon flyes, born forth on follys wings:
O how this makes my griefe exceeding great,
To see ones care, who lives for dead things such,
Whil'st shew-transported mindes admire his state:
Which I not envy, no, but pitty much.
“Thus wormes of th'earth (whil'st low-plac'd thoughts prevaile)
“Love melting things, whose shew the body fits,
“Where soules of clearer sight doe never faile,
“To value most the treasure of good wits.
“Those worldly things doe in this world decay,
“Or at the least we leave them with our breath,
“Where to eternity this leades the way,
“So differ they as farre as life and death.

Æsope.
And yet what wonder though he wander thus,
Whom still by successe treacherous fortune blindes?
Though this indeed seem somewhat strange to us,
Who have with learning purifi'd our mindes;
Was he not borne heire of a mighty state?
And us'd with fortunes smiles, not fear'd for frownes,
Doth measure all things by his owne conceit?
A great defect, which fatall is to Crownes;
Then from his youth still trusting in a Throne,
With all that pride could crave, or wealth could give,
Vs'd with entreaties, and contrould by none,
He would the tongue of liberty deprive;
Though to his sight I dare not thus appeare,
Whose partiall judgement, farre from reason parts;
I grieve to see your entertainment here
So farre inferiour to your owne deserts;
That matchlesse wisedome which the world admires,
And (ravish't with delight,) amazed heares,
Since not in consort with his vaine desires,
Did seeme impleasant to distemper'd eares:
Eares which can entry give to no discourse,
Save that which enters fraughted with his praise,
He can love none but them that love his course,
And thinkes all fooles who use no flattering phrase:
This with the great ones doth the gods displease,
Though spreading all her heavenly treasures forth,
They (if not in their livery them to please)
Doe vertue vilifie, as of no worth.

Solon.
I care not, Æsope, how the King conceiv'd
Those my franke words which I must alwaies use;
I came not here till he my comming crav'd,
And now when come, will not my name abuse;
Should I his poys'nous Sycophants resemble,
Whose silken words their Soveraigne doe o'rethrow?
I for his Diadem would not dissemble,
“What hearts doe thinke, the tongues were made to show.
And what if I, his humour to content,
The worlds opinion lost by gaining ones?
He can but give me gifts which may be spent,
But nought can cleere my fame if darkned once;
That so he might my reputation raise,
If I sooth'd him, it would procure my shame;
“Whil'st those who vitious are, our vertues praise,
“This in effect is but a secret blame.
“Though as a simple man he me despise,
“Yet better simply good, then doubly ill;
“I not my worth by others praises prize,
“Nor by opinions doe direct my will.
That praise contents me more which one imparts,
Of judgement sound, (though of a meane degree)
Then praise from Princes voyd of princely parts,
Who have more wealth, but not more wit then he.

Æsope.
Who come to Court, must with Kings faults comport.

Solon.
Who come to Court, should truth to Kings report.

Æsope.
A wise man at their imperfections winkes.

Solon.
An honest man will tell them what he thinkes.

Æsope.
So should you lose your selfe, and them not save.

Solon.
But for their folly, I no blame would have.

Æsope.
By this you should their indignation finde.

Solon.
Yet have the warrant of a worthy minde.

Æsope.
It would be long ere you were thus preferr'd.

Solon.
Then it should be the King, (not I) that err'd.

Æsope.
They guerdon as they love, they love by guesse.

Solon.
Yet when I merit well, I care the lesse.

Æsope.
It's good to be still by the Prince approv'd.

Solon.
It's better to be upright, though not lov'd.

Æsope.
But by this meane, all hope of honour failes.

Solon.
Yet honesty in end ever prevailes.

Æsope.
I thinke they should excell (for vertue rare)
All men in wit, who unto men give lawes;
Kings of their kingdomes, as the centers are,
To which each weighty thing by nature drawes:
For as the mighty rivers, little streames,
And all the liquid pow'rs which rise or fall,
Doe seeke in sundry parts by severall seames,
The Oceans bosome that receives them all.
It as a Steward of the tumid deeps
Doth send them backe by many secret veynes,
And (as the earth hath need of moisture) keepe
These humid treasures to refresh the Plaines.
Thus are Kings brests the depths where daily flow
Cleare streames of knowledge with rare treasures charg'd,
So that continually their wisedomes grow,
By many helpes, which others want, enlarg'd:
For those who have intelligence ov'r all,
Doe commonly communicate to Kings,
All th'accidents of weight that chance to fall;
Which great advantage, Greatnesse to them brings.
They (jealously dispos'd) comment on mindes,
And these who Arts, or Natures gifts enhaunce,
(Whose value no where else a Merchant findes)
Doe come to Kings, as who may them advance.
No doubt great Iove, since they supply his place,
(So with their charge to make their vertues even)
Doth give to them some supernaturall grace,
Vice-gods on th'earth, great Lievtenants of heaven.

Solon.
As you have shown, Kings good occasion have
To sound the deepes and mysteries of wit,
And those who so their states from ruine save,
Doe well deserve upon a Throne to sit,
But ah those rivers are not ever pure,
Through tainted channels which oft times convaid,
By flatteries poyson rendred are impure;
“Oft Princes hearts are by their eares betray'd:
For impudent effronted persons dare
Court with vaine words, and detestable lyes,
Whil'st men of minds more pure must stand afarre,
“The light is loathsome to diseased eyes.
But with amazement this transports my minde,
Some who are wise grosse flattery can digest,
And though they know how all men are inclin'd,
Yet please the bad, and do but praise the best.
Is't that such men no errour can controll,
Nor will not crosse their appetite in ought,
But (nothing censuring) every thing extoll,
Where better wits would argue as they thought;
Or since the world of worth in all esteemes,
They never like a pregnant sprite to raise,
So to have none who but to help them seemes,
Or may pretend an int'rest in their praise:
This self-conceit is a most dangerous shelfe,
Where many have made shipwrack unawares,
“He who doth trust too much unto himselfe,
“Can never faile to fall in many snares.
“Of all men else great Monarchs have most need
“To square their actions, and to weigh their words,
“And with advice in all things to proceed;
“A faithfull Counsell oft great good affords.
“Loe, how th'inferiour spheares of force do bend
“As the first mover doth their courses drive,
“The Commons customes on the Prince depend,
“His manners are the rules by which they live;
“As for himselfe none onely is brought forth,
“Kings for the use of many are ordain'd,
“They should like Sunnes cleare Kingdomes with their worth,
“Whose life a patterne must be kept unstain'd:
“All vertuous Princes have a spatious field
“To shew their worth, though even in Fortunes spight,
“Where meane men must to their misfortune yeeld,
“Whil'st want of power doth cloud their vertue quite;
“As pretious stones are th'ornaments of rings,
“The stone decores the ring, the ring the hand,
“So Countries are conforme unto their Kings,
“The King decores the Court, the Court the Land;
“And as a drop of poyson spent alone,
“Infected fountains doth with venome fill,
“So mighty states may tainted be by one:
“A vitious Prince is a contagious ill.

Æsope.
It easie is anothers faults to spie,
And paint in th'aire the shadows of our mindes,
Whil'st apprehending with the inward eye
A high perfection which no practise findes.

Solon.
I grant, those grounds which we imagine may,
Will move no charmed man, much lesse a Prince,
To disenchant himselfe, and seeke some way
At Reasons Court, his passions to convince;
Ere Crœsus can refraine from this his fury,
He must forsake himselfe (as one renew'd)
And in the lethe of oblivion burie
The vanities that have his soule subdew'd;
Those his prerogatives he first must bound,
And be a man, a man to be controll'd,
Then all his faults (as in another found)
An arbiter with equall eyes behold;
Could he cast off this vaile of fond self-love,
Through which each object Pride too grosly spies,
He would these ravenous Parasites remove,
Vile instruments of shame that live by lyes;
The onely meanes to make such people part,
That he might judge more freely of his state,
Were to cast out the Idoll of his heart,
Which (when o're-thrown) he must disclaime too late:
For, forraine flatterers could finde no accesse,
If not that weighing his owne worth too much,
He first concludes (to sooth himselfe inclin'd)
That all their praises should of right be such;
And when those hireling Sycophants have found
A Prince whom too secure opinion makes,
His noblest part they by smooth weapons wound,
“All spoyle by pleasing them whom flattery takes:
Ore rulers, rule when such a person beares,
Of vertuous men the rising to prevent,
From wholsome counsell they close up his eares
To crosse the better sort in all things bent.

Æsope.
If you at Court to credit would arise,
You must not seek by truth to gaine renowne,
But sometime must applaud what you despise,
And smile in show whil'st in effect you frowne.

Solon.
From hence in haste I will my selfe retyre,
I hate Courts slavery, it my freenesse scornes,
Nor am I one whom Crœsus doth desire,
Since I detest what him (he thinks) adornes;
O how light Fortune doth his folly flout,
While as he glories in this flying show!
With greedy harpies hedg'd in round about,
Which gape to be made rich by his o're-throw.
Not all the wealth that his great kingdome shows,
Can make me from my resolution shrinke;
Nor can the terrour of a Tyrants blows
Enforce my tongue to speake more then I thinke;
Nothing so much as doubts doth vex the minde,
Whil'st anxious thoughts to fix no where can come,
Yet every one the way to rest may finde,
A resolution all things doth o're-come.
“And since my thoughts in Innocency rest,
“No outward warre can inward peace surprise,
“What can imagin'd be to brave a brest,
“That both doth death, and povertie despise?

Exeunt.
Chorus.