 | The Tragedy of Croesvs |  |
Scene 1.
Cyrus,Harpagus.
Let us triumph o're them (though proud of late)
Whose glory now doth with their greatnesse faile:
Since with their fortune forfeiting their state:
No warre 's approv'd unlesse that it prevaile:
The world, that whil'st we fought, did doubtfull stand,
As for the one, ordain'd to be a prey,
Saw how the heavens plac'd lightning in my hand,
Those thund'ring downe, who would not us obey:
Goe pay our vowes, ere enterprising more;
The Gods detest a minde that is ingrate;
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Are alwaies bent to stablish their estate;
Cause burden Altars, smoke each sacred place
With Bullockes, Incense, Odours of all kindes;
“But none can give the Gods (still great in grace)
“A sacrifice more sweet, than thankefull mindes.
Harp.
Though all who partners are of th' earth and ayre,
Still whil'st tapestred with this azure pale,
If for nought else, yet for those gifts least rare,
To serve th' all-pow'rfull pow'rs, should never faile;
Yet there are some whom successe hath design'd,
Whose names are written in respected scroules,
Whom benefits (not ordinary) binde
To love them more then life, yea, then their soules:
Of those that you are one, your deeds declare,
Of whom amid'st innumerable broiles,
Even from your cradle they have had a care,
And led you safe through many dangerous toiles;
Though of the troubles of your youth I see,
You have not heard the wonderfull discourse,
I them remember, who did chance to be
An actor in your Tragicke-Comicke course.
Cyrus.
The accidents which in our nonage chance,
A ripened age not to remembrance brings,
Like fabulous dreames which darkenesse doth advance,
That are by day disdain'd as frivolous things:
For, our conceptions are not then so strong
That they can leave impressions long behinde,
Yet mixe (deare friend) old griefes new joyes among,
And call afflicted infancy to minde.
Harp.
Who would not wonder at thy wondrous fate,
Whom (even or borne) destruction did attend,
Whil'st ere thou could'st offend, pursu'd by hate,
Even then to end what now shall never end?
Your mother first her fathers minde did sting,
Whil'st once he dream'd, which yet his soule confounds,
That of a tree which from her wombe did spring,
Th'umbragious branches, darkened Asias bounds;
Then to the Magies straight he gave in charge
To try what this strange vision did presage,
VVho having studied their darke Art at large,
Gave this response with a propheticke rage:
That once his daughter should a sonne bring forth,
Who should (by valour gaining great renowne)
Make vanquish'd Asia witnesse of his worth;
But from his grand-father first reave the Crowne.
This to Astyages a terrour bred,
Who (vainely bent to scorne the heavens decree)
His daughter (out of policy) would wed,
To some weake stranger of no great degree.
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He, for his Country (then contemn'd) gave eare,
Whom by your birth the Princesse did rejoyce,
And gave her father further cause of feare,
“Thus tyranny (their brood whose courage failes)
“Doth force the Parents in despaire to fall,
“To fight a dastard, proud when it prevailes,
“But yet (as fear'd of all,) doth still feare all;
“And tyrants no security can finde,
“For every shadow frights a guilty minde.
This Monarch then who could not dreame of harmes,
Whose guards did glance all still with steele array'd,
Then whil'st he liv'd secure from forraigne Armes,
A babe, scarce borne, and his, did make afraid.
And whil'st Lucina the last helpe did make,
As if some ugly monster had beene borne,
A Minotaure, a Centaure, or a Snake,
The peoples terrour, and the Mothers scorne;
The Grand-childes birth, which justly should impart,
To grand-fathers the greatest cause of joyes,
Did (long ere wounded, making him to smart)
Involve him in a maze of sad annoyes;
And to prevent what did him fondly fright,
By giving cause of a deserved hate,
He sought by robbing you the new-found light,
To make your birth and buriall of one date.
Soone after this he sent for me in haste,
Whom at that time (and not in vaine) he lov'd,
And told the summe of all things that were past,
By which his marble-minde seem'd nothing mov'd;
Yet in the same, as he would let me know,
Though pitty none, some horrour did remaine,
Whil'st damn'd in substance, to seeme cleere in show,
Your bloud his heart, but not his hand should staine.
“Thus having lull'd asleepe their judgement still,
“The wicked would extenuate their crimes,
“Not knowing those who but allow of ill,
“As actors guilty, differ but in times.
With his vile fault he would have burden'd me,
Whom straight he charg'd an Innocent to slay;
I promis'd to performe his rash decree,
Well weighing whom, not what I should obey;
When I had parted from his Highnesse face,
And carried you (then swadled) with me too,
Whil'st horrour did congeale my bloud, a space
I stood perplex'd, not knowing what to doe,
And (as to purge my part) even shedding teares,
By troupes of passions griefe, my soule assail'd,
Thus (when distress'd for easing others feares,)
Th'intended death of you, your murd'rers wail'd;
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VVho for the time was heards-man to the King,
To whom I made all my Commission knowne,
But as enjoyn'd to him, shew'd every thing;
Delivering you with an unwilling breath,
Whom of pure gold, a glistring robe array'd,
I threatned him with many a cruell death,
If that your death were any way delay'd;
Straight then to execute the Tyrants doome,
He from my sight did all astonish'd goe,
Too great a charge for such a simple Groome,
The shew of Majestie amaz'd him so;
What man (not wondring) can by deeds behold
The providence of all-commanding Iove,
Whose brazen edicts cannot be contrould:
“Firme are the Statutes of the States above:
“That mortall whom a Deities savour shields,
“No worldly force is able to confound,
“He may securely walke through dangers fields,
“Times and occasions are to serve him bound:
For loe, before the heards-man was come home,
His wife had chanc'd a breath-lesse childe to beare,
Who wondred so to see her husband come,
While by his conscience crush'd, he quak'd for feare;
And straight she curious grew to know the forme,
How he a babe so beautifull obtain'd;
Who her of all did suddenly informe,
And to what cruelty he was constrain'd;
She quickly then th' occasion to embrace,
(No doubt inspir'd by some celestiall pow'r)
Pray'd that her infant might supply your place,
Yet where no beasts his body might devoure,
So shall we have (saith she) a double gaine,
Since our owne childe shall get a stately tombe,
And we a Princely brood, which may remaine,
Still nurst with us as th'issue of my wombe.
The husband lik't so well his wives designe,
That he perform'd all what she did require,
And when I had directed one of mine,
This Tragedies last act, who might enquire:
My man who spy'd a babe there breathlesse lye,
With that rich funerall furniture array'd,
Told what the fellow told, (a generous lye)
So that thus try'd, I trusted what they said.
In end, Time (posting with houre-feather'd wings)
Had given you strength, with others of your yeares
You haunted games, not nephewes unto Kings,
But for that time admitted for your Peeres,
They faile call fortune blinde, she sight bewray'd,
And your authority by lot enlarg'd,
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And as but borne for that, that best discharg'd:
With other children then, as once it chanc'd,
A Noble-man of Medeas Sonne remain'd,
Who swolne with envy to see you advanc'd,
Your childish charge with scornfull words disdain'd;
You raging at that proud attempt of his,
Did punish him, as it became a Prince,
I doubt now (Sir) if that you thinke of this:
The rest of rashnesse did your deed convince.
Cyrus.
Though now my breast doth greater thoughts embrace,
Of youthfull sports, yet do not spare to speake;
“Let cares alternatly give pleasure place:
“That which is bended still, must sometime breake.
Harp.
The childes great Father did inform the King,
How that so base a boy his Sonne abus'd,
And of the guard one hasted you to bring,
As for an odious crime to be accus'd;
But when the King (expostulating long)
By terrours striv'd to cast your courage downe:
You boldly said, that you had done no wrong,
To punish one who had contemn'd your Crowne;
You so magnanimous amaz'd to finde,
Whil'st pausing long with an attentive Eye,
That speech imperious told the King your kinde:
Whose brood but th'Eagles durst have soar'd so high?
The fained Father to the King was brought,
Who (fear'd for torture) telling truth in time,
Where he reward deserv'd, but pardon sought,
As if the saving you had beene a crime.
Then (as it seem'd) delighted with the rest,
The King did cause a sumptuous feast prepare,
And me desir'd as his most speciall guest,
That with my Sonne I would to Court repaire;
When I was come, the King great joy disclos'd,
And sooth'd my words which did his chance applaud,
But for another end then I suppos'd:
“What fairer cloke then courtesie for fraud?
When th'absence of the Sunne did darknesse breed,
The Candles light inheriting his place,
On my Sonnes flesh they caus'd my selfe to feed,
Then did upbraid me with his bloudlesse face;
VVhat anguish, or what rage o're-flow'd my soule,
A loving Father may imagine best,
Yet at that time I did my rage controull,
But laid it high up in a stormie brest.
Cyrus.
Some of the wise-men then I heard remain'd,
VVho from their former sentence did recoyle,
And said, no danger was, since I had raign'd,
Then did dismisse me for my native soile;
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To weakened wrath your lines did strength afford,
Informing us that many Medes were bent
For his great cruelty to leave their Lord;
And wish'd (if to their Scepter I aspir'd)
That I should move the Persians to rebell,
VVhich did succeed even as my soule desir'd:
For they disdain'd in bondage base to dwell;
VVhen my encourag'd troups all arm'd did stand,
Ere they from Strangers could attend releefe,
I quickly march'd, encountring with that band,
Of which the King had chanc'd to make you chiefe.
Harp.
“Loe how those wretches whom the heavens would wrack,
“(To plagues expos'd) of judgement are unarm'd:
“The King of me his Captaine straight did make,
“And look't for help of him whom he had harm'd;
“Yet was th'old wrong so rooted in my heart,
“My Countries thraldome, and mine owne disgrace,
“That all the horrours mischiefe could impart
“Seem'd nought to me, so my disdaine took place.
Cyr.
“On those whom they have wrong'd, none should relye:
“Iust rancour unreveng'd, can never dye.
Harp.
This enterprise at first so well did speed,
That since, your Greatnesse still began to rise,
Which may by time Io brave a story breed,
As may be pretious in all Princes eyes.
Cyr.
Behold how Crœsus with his riches blinde,
Durst even encounter with my warre-like band;
And whil'st a prosp'rous course betray'd his minde,
Did not suspect what pow'r was in my hand;
But he and his confederates have seene
How victory doth still my troupes attend,
And Persia must be once all Asia's Queene,
On whom for servants Princes shall depend;
Now Crœsus is o'recome, this Towne surpris'd,
And Lydia charg'd with gold, doth yeeld rich spoyles;
The League unprosp'rous, Ægypt hath despis'd,
This is the happy end of all our toiles.
But ah! one sowre unseasons all my sweets,
That gallant man who was my Mate in armes,
Whose praise through all the peopled circuit fleets,
And with his love each generous courage warmes;
Then when (though weake in troups) in courage strong,
Th'Ægyptian Chariots desperately he charg'd
There (whil'st he fought infortunately long)
Mars from terrestriall bands his soule enlarg'd.
Harp.
No doubt that Dame this trouble hardly beares,
Who onely seem'd for him to like of life,
I heard him (whil'st she bath'd his breast with teares)
Oft wish by proofe to merit such a wife.
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She kiss'd the Coach that did containe her trust,
And with eyes bigge with pearle, gaz'd where he went,
Still till her sight was choak'd with clouds of dust.
Cyrus.
And have you then not heard, his death but prov'd
The black beginning of a bloudy Scene?
His wife Panthea at the first not mov'd,
Seem'd as she had some marble image beene;
The body that had oft her fancies fir'd,
She caus'd beare out of sight, still deare, though dead;
But where the River ranne, when once retir'd,
She 'twixt her bosomes Rounds entomb'd his head;
And then from Rage she borrowed some reliefe:
For sorrow by degrees, a passage seeks,
Vapouring forth sighs, which made a cloud of griefe,
A mighty storme of teares rain'd downe her cheeks;
Then, whil'st her Eyes the wonted object miss'd,
With heavy looks resolving fatall haste,
Pale senselesse lips she prodigally kiss'd,
With as great ardour then as in times past.
I posted thither, bent to have releev'd
This Lady of a portion of her woes.
Heaven beare me witnesse! I was greatly griev'd,
Who would to save one friend, spare hosts of foes,
She first a space me passionately ey'd,
Then with those words, her lips did slowly move,
My husband, loe, hath valorously dy'd,
As of your friendship, worthy of my love.
“My comming but encreas'd griefes starving store:
“For, till that passion of it selfe expire,
“All kinde of comfort but augments it more,
“Like drops of oyle thrown on a mighty fire.
A constant count'nance though I striv'd to make,
And what her woes diminish might, did tell;
That comfort which I gave, I could not take,
And scarcely could throw forth my last farewell;
When I had left her but a little space,
She did discharge the Eunuchs from her sight,
Then pray'd her Nurse to bury in one place
Her and her Lord, as they deserv'd of right;
Last, looking on his corps, she drew a sword,
And even as if her soule had flown in him,
(Pure snows in Crimson dy'd) imbrac'd her Lord,
Whil'st beauties blubbred Starres were waxing dim;
Then bent to fall, when her they could not raise,
(As scorning to survive their prosp'rous state)
In emulation of their Ladies praise,
The Eunuchs did precipitate their fate.
O sweet Panthea, rich in rarest parts,
I must admire thy ghost though thou be gone!
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Yet loath'd unlawfull loves, and lov'd but one;
O wond'rous wonders, wonders wond'rous rare!
A woman constant, such a beauty chast,
A minde so pure, joyn'd with a face so faire,
With vertue beauty in one person plac't;
Both were well match'd as any could devise,
Whose death confirmes the union of their life;
He valorous, she vertuous, both wise,
She worthy such a Mate, he such a wife.
And Harpagus, lest that it should be thought,
That of brave mindes the memory may dye;
Cause build a stately Tombe with Statues wrought,
Where both their bodies with respect may lye.
Harp.
I'le raise a Pyramide of Crœsus spoils,
Where of their worth each part shall be compris'd,
But how to do in these tumultuous broils,
Now time requires that you were well advis'd:
Your adversary doth attend your will;
This hauty Towne for feare to fall doth bow,
And therefore pardon, ransome, quite, or kill,
Do what you please, none can controll us now.
Cyr.
As for old Crœsus, I am else resolv'd,
He with some captives whom I keep in store
Shall have their bodies by the fire dissolv'd,
As offerings to the Gods whom I adore.
My Souldiers paines this City shall defray,
Since by their meanes it hath beene gain'd for us,
I yeeld it unto them, as their just prey,
Who taste the sweetnesse of their travels thus;
Of other things we shall so well dispose
That our renowne through all the world shall shine,
Till Cyrus name give terror to all those,
Who dare against his Soveraignty repine.
| The Tragedy of Croesvs | |