University of Virginia Library

Act. III.

Scena. I.

Achmatt alone.
Achmat.
Who standing in the shade of humble valley,
Lookes vp and wonders at the height of hils,
When he with toyle of weary lims ascends,
And feeles his spirits melt with Phæbus glaies,
Or sinewes starke with Æolus bitter breathing.
Or thunder blasts, which comming from the skie,
Do fall most heauy on the places high:
Then knowes (though further scene, and further seeing,)
They multiply in woes that adde in glories.
Who weary is of natures quiet vallyes,
A meane estate with chast and poore desires,
Whose vertue longs for knees (blisse for opinion)
Who iudgeth pleasure, paradise in purple,
Let him seeme no gouernor of Castle,
No, pitty princes choise, whose weake dominions,
Make weake vnnoble councels to be currant;
But Basha vnto Solyman, whose scepter,
Nay seruants haue dominion ouer Princes,
Vnder whose feet the foure forgotten Monarches,
The foote-stooles lie of his eternall glory
Euen I thus raised: this Solymans beloued,
Thus caried vp by fortune to be tempted,
Must for my Princes sake destroy succession,
Or suffer ruine to preserue succession.
O wretched state of ours wherein we liue,
Where doubt giues loues, which nature can forgiue.
Where rage of Kings, not onely ruine be,
But where their very loue brings miserie.
Most happie men that know not, or else feare
The slipperie second place of honours steppe,
Which we with enuie get, and danger keepe:
But Kings, whome strength of heart did first aduance,
Be sure what rais'd you first, keepes you aboue;
Man subiect made himselfe, it was not chance,
Loue treateth trueth, and Ll. rule the world with feare & loue,
Iustice not kindnesse reuerence doth inhaunce,
For subiects to your selues when you descend,
To doate on Subiects Maiestie hath end.
Here as in weaknesse, flatterie prints her hart,
And priuate spight dare vse a Princes hand,
He error enters, trueth and right depart,
And Princes scorne the newes from hand to hand.
As Rossa prints her selfe in our Lords loue,
And with her mischiefe doeth his malice moue:
First of her selfe shee durst send Rosten forth
To murther Solyman his dearest sonne,
He found him onely garded with his worth,
Suspecting nothing and yet nothing done.
Rosten is now return'd; for wicked feare
Did euen make him wickednesse forbeare.
A Beliarby dispatcht, is sent to call him hither,
With colour of a warre against the Persian,
Indeede to suffer force of tyrannie,
From his inforced Fathers iealousie.
Who vtters this is to his Prince a traitour,
Who keepes this guiltie is, his life is ruth,
And dying liues, euer denying truth.
Thus hath the fancy-law of Kings ordained,
That who betrayes them most, is most esteemed,
Who saith they are betrayed is traytor deemed.
I sworne am to my king, and to his humor,
His humor? No; which they that follow most
Wade in the sea wherein themselues are lost.
But Acmat, stay; who wrests his princes mind
Presents his faith vpon the stage of chance,
Where vertue to the world, fortune vnknowne
Is oft misiudg'd, because she is ouerthrowne.
Nay Acmat stay not; who truth enuirons
With circumstance of mans failing wit,
For feare, for loue, for hope, for malice erreth,
Nature to Natures bankrupts he engageth.
And while none dare shew kings they go amisse,
Euen base obedience their corruption is:
Then feare, dwell with the Ill, Truth is assured;
Opinion be, and raigne with Princes Fortunes;
Pollicy go peere the faults of mortall kingdomes:
Death, threaten them that doubt to dye for euer.
I first am natures subiect, then my Princes,
I will not serue to innocencies ruine.
Whose heauen is earth, let them beleeue in princes,
My God is not the God of subtile murther,
Solyman shall know the worst; I looke no further.

Scæn. 2.

Enter Solyman and Acmat.
Soly.
Acmat, foolish naturall affection
Openeth too late the wisedome of my fathers,
Who onely in their deaths decreed succession:
If Mustapha had neuer beene intitled
In my life, to the hope of my estate;
My life, more then my death had him auailed,
Example might haue beene perswasion.
That high desires are borne out of occasion:
But kindnesse with her owne kinde folly beaten,
Like crooked sticks made straight with ouer-bending,
What she hath strooke too much must ouer-threaten,
Hath kings loue taught kings raigning giue offences?
That long life in the best kings discontenteth,
And false desires within false glasses shewed.
By Mustaphaes example learne to know,
Who hewes aboue his head shall hurt his eye,
Acmat, giue order, Mustapha shall die.

Acm.
My fortune doth me witnesse beare;
That my hopes neede not stand vpon succession,
Where hopes want all but onely woe and feare,
Then Lord doubt not my faith though I withstand,
The fearefull counsell which you haue in hand.
Sir I confesse where one man ruleth all,
There feare and care, are secret keies of witt,
Where all may rise, and one may onely fall,
Their thoughts aspires, and power must master it.
For worlds repine at those whome birth or chance
Aboue all men, and but a man aduance,
I know where easie hopes, doe nurse desire,
The dead men onely of the wise are trusted,
And though crook'd feare do seldome rightly measure
As thinking all things, but it selfe dissembled,
Yet Solyman let feare direct kings counsels,
But feare not destinies which doe not altar.
Nor things impossible which cannot happen,
Feare false Stepmothers rage, woman ambition
Whereof each age to other is a glasse,
Feare them that feare not for desire, to shame,
And loose their faiths, to bring their wills to passe,
Establish Bassaes, children for your heyres,
Let Mustaphaes hopes faile, translate his right,
Let their ambitious thirst once glutted be,
Streight enuie dies: feare will appeare no more,
For as ill men but in felicitie,
(Where enuie feares and freedome sleepes) seeme good
So heyres to crownes, tenants to miserie,
Their good is but in ill lucke vnderstood.
But Sir put of this charme of cunning spight,
Which makes you to yourselfe inuisible:
Make it not knowne deere Lord, by your example
That onely Enuy, furie and suspition,
In euery kinde and state keepe their condition;
If Mustapha haue one fault but his mother
If else where then in her heart he be guiltie,
Let those deafe heauens which punnish and forgiue not,
Let hels most plagues vnto her best beloued,
Mallice and rage, which without mischiefe liues not.
Thunder torment burne ruine and destroy mee,
If Mustapha haue one thought to annoy thee.

Solim.
Mallice is like the lightning of the sommer,
Which when the skies are cleerest, lights and burneth,
Her end is to doe hurt and not to threaten,
Iustice vniustly doth to loose occasion,
Hazards it selfe, to force and to perswasion.

Acmat.
Sir, hastie power is like the rage of thunder,
Whose violence is seldome well bestowed:
Danger not ment, needs not to be preuented,
Reuenge still in your power is not repented.

Solim.
Danger already come is past preuenting,
Princes whose Scepters must be feard of many,
Are neuer safe that liue in feare of any.

Acmat.
Tirants they are that punnish out of feare.
States wiser then the truth decline and weare,
Wisedome in man is but the print and doubt,
Whose inke is either blood, secrets of states,
Which safely walls with gouernment about.

Solim.
In princes dangers iustice euer goes,
Before the fact, that all els ouerthrowes.
Besides my Bassaes in whose faith I trust.
As staies to mine estate, with one consent,
Shew my sonnes fault and vrge me to be iust,
Thy selfe alone, perchance with good intent
Art crosse, wisedome is not faiths Relatiue:
For oftentimes faith growes for lacke of wit
And sees no perill, till he feeles of it.

Acmat.
Doubt wounds within.
For as in kings when feare to kill hath might,
Both wrong and danger must be infinite.
And Sir, we Bassaes, whom you Monarches please
To heare, much further are from princely hearts
Then eares; for fauour growes the states disease,
When more then seruice it to vs imparts.
Base bloud hath narrow thoughts, which set aboue
Sees more of greatnesse then it comprehends;
And for all is not to our partiall ends,
We faile kings with themselues, we take their might,
And vse to our reuenge: make lawes a snare,
To ruine all, but instruments our friends
Till kings euen let in lease to two or three
Are made of vs the ------ to behold their right.
Euen fame of kings estate a miserie.
We Bassaes that do distribute at wil,
And for that we the best mens rising feare
With bruit and remor good desert we kill.
This fashion and not Mustapha's offence,
Hath had an ambush to intrap your loue.
But Sir awake, a kings iust fauorite
Is truth.
All broken wayes not borne of faith but will.
Do but hale danger while that multiplies.
Where there is cause of doubt, lawes do prouide
Restraint of liberty, where force of spight
Lies in the liuing, dead, till it be tried.
Where kings too oft vse their prerogatiue
The people do forbeare, but not forgiue.
My Lord, the state delayes are wisedome, where
Time may more easie wayes to safety shew.
Selfe murder is an vgly worke of feare
And little lesse is childrens ouerthrowes.
For truths sake spare your sonne, and pardon him,
Mens wit and duty oft haue diuerse wayes,
Duty with truth which doth with strength agree
Duty of honour striueth wit to please,
Who stands alone in Councels of estate,
Where kings themselues euen with aduise see feares,
Stands on the headlong step of death and hate;
For good lucke enuie, ill lucke hazzard beares;
For fashions that affect to seeme vpright,
To hide their faults must ouerthrow the right.
Sir, Mustapha is yours, moreouer he
Is not, for whom you Mustapha ouerthrow,
Suspition common to successions be,
Honour and feare euer together go.
Who must kill all they feare, feare all they see:
Your subiects, sonnes, nor neighbourhood can beare,
So infinite the limits be of feare.

Soly.
Acmat no more, mischance doth oft o'reshoote
All vnder kings desires without all feare,
Your Bassaes know, for mischiefe seekes the roote,
Not boughes, which but the fruit of greatnesse beare.
Mercy and truth are wisedomes popular,
And like the raine which doth inrich the ground,
They spend the clouds of which they owned are.
Princes estates haue this one misery,
That though the men and treasons both be plaine,
They're vnbeleeu'd, while Princes are vnslaine.
If thy care be of me, enough is sayd,
Go waite my pleasure, which shall be obeyd.

Scena tertia.

Enter Solyman, Beliarby nuntius.
Beli.
If you will Rossa see aliue
You must make hast.

Soly.
Fortune, hast thou not molds enough of sorrow,
Must thou yet these of loue and kindnesse borrow?
Yet tel me, whence grew Rossaes passion?

Bel.
When hither I from Mustapha returned,
And had made you account of my Commission,
Rossa, whose heart in care of your health burned,
Curiously after Mustapha enquiring,
A token spies, which I from hence did beare
For Mustapha by sweete Camena wrought
(Yet gaue it not, for I began to feare,
And something more then kindnes in it thought:)
No sooner she beheld this pretious guift,
But as inrag'd, hands on her selfe she layd.
From me as one that from her selfe would shift
She runnes, nor till she found Camena, stayes.
I follow and heare, both their voyces high,
The one as doing, the other as suffering paine,:
But whether your Camena liue or die,
Or dead, if she by rage or guilt be slaine.
If she made Rossa mad, or Rossa mad
To hurt things deerest to her selfe be glad.
Or where the bounds of vnbound rage will stay.
If one or both, or which is made away
I know not, but O Solyman make hast.

Scena quarta.

Enter Rossa and Solyman.
Rossa.
What am I not my owne, who then dare let me
From doing with my selfe what my selfe listeth?
Nature hath lied: she saith, life vnto many
May be denied, but not death vnto any.
Come death, art thou afraid of me, that beare
All wickednes, by which you caused were.
Soliman stand from me, I am not thy Rossa:
But one that death, the diuell and hell do flie,
Yet vnto death, the diuel, and hell do hie.

Soly.
What fury is the God of this strange spirit?
Rossa, how art thou lost, or how transformd?
Leaue it to me, or take or leaue thy breath,
And shew thy fault, thy fault shall giue thee death.

Rossa.
That were to loose the benefit of death.

Solym.
Then liue.

Ross.
That is the cruelty of death.

Soly.
Then tell and die.

Ross.
Nay tell and liue, a worthy death
To her that so had lost the good of death.

Solym.
What should be councell to the mariage bed,

Rossa.
All things, vnworthy of the mariage bed.

Solym.
Yet tell me for my loue, I long to know.

Rassa.
For loue, I keep what loue would feare to know.

Soly.
Ignorance is dangerous and euer feares.

Ross.
Ignorance is dangerous and cannot feare.

Soly.
Yet tell me, I am Prince, I do command,

Ross.
Kings long to heare, and hate what they haue herad
Good sir, let it be lawfull to say nothing.
And lesse of kings men can desire nothing.

Soly.
Then liue, and let this multiplie thy anguish,
That all diseases of my mind and state,
Iniuries of loue, contempts and wounds of fauours,
Treachery, aspiring, death, suspitious ruine,
Consulted are by thee to make me languish,
Thou guidest me and my fortune vnto errror.

Rossa.
O Soliman, of grace let me say nothing:
For if I speake, thy neuer failing iustice,
Must force thee to take vengeance of offences.
In odious facts, the solemne forme of death,
Melts humane powers: great states to get compassion,
For mankind when it sees man loose his breath,
Their harts not vnto truth but pittie, fashion.
And death well borne shall make a wicked spirit
Stir pitty vp to make the law seeme might,
Let these vilde hands, to this vilde hart be cruell,
Selfe death, which gods abhorre, is fit for treason,
Mercie, by ill successe, seemes lacke of reason.

Solim.
Yet speake, for one of mischiefes plagues is shame.

Rossa.
You Gods, that gouern these star-bearing heauens,
Whose onely motion rules the mouing Seas.
And thou still changing glory of the darknes,
Whose growing hornes and ensignes, of his Empire.
Beare witnes with me, neither truth nor kindnesse,
Shame, nor remorce, desire to doe things honest,
Delight of others good, nor feate of mischiefe,
Duty to God or man, but onely glorie,
The badge which Euill giues, doth tel this storie.
Your daughter, in whom you and I had blisse.
By these imbrued fingers murthered is:

Solim.
What fault would not a mothers loue forgiue,
Rossa The fault she made was that she let me liue,
For knowing she conspird her fathers death,
By whom I hold my honor, she her breath,
How could she thinke I could her crime forgiue?

Sol.
What cause had she to thinke so vile a thought?
Or by whom could she thinke to haue it wrought?

Rossa.
Mischiefe it selfe, is cause of mischiefe done.
Whome should she feare to winne, when she had woon
Vnto this mischiefe Mustapha thy sonne.

Solim.
Did she confesse, or who did her accuse,

Ro.
This Guidon with her own hand, wrought and sent,
Beares perfect record what was her intent.

Solim.
Expound what was the meaning of this work
Vnder whose art, the acts of mischiefe lurke,

Rossa.
The clouds, they be the house of iealousie,
Which fire and water both within them beares.
Where good shewes lesse, ills greater then they bee,
There Saturne feeds on children that be his.
A fatall winding sheete, succession is.
This pleasing horrour of our turnd delight
Doth figure forth the Tyrannie of feare,
Where truth lies bound, and nature looseth right,
Poore innocencie, vainely spending breath
To plead, where nothing is of trust but death
Malice heere aged lies in doublenesse,
Blowing out rumour from her narrow breast,
To spread abroad with infinite successe,
The visions and opinions of vnrest:
Eating the hearts wherein they harboured bee,
Like wormes in wood, whose holes men onely see.
These precious hills where daintinesse seemes wast,
By natures art, that all art will exceede,
In carelesse finenesse, shews the sweet estate,
Of strength and prudence both togither plac't,
Two intercessors reconciling hate,
And giuing feare euer of itselfe a taste,
These waues that beat vpon the cliftes doe shew,
The cruell stormes, which Enuie hath below,
This border round about in Charact hath
The minde of all: which in effect is this;
Tis hard to know, but hard and harder too,
When men doe know, to bring their hearts to doe.

Soly.
What said she, when you shewed her this worke?

Ro.
Like them which are descryed, & faine would lurke:
So while she would haue made her selfe seeme cleere,
She made her faults still more and more appeere.

Soly.
How brookt she that, the wicked onely feare?
Her death I meane, with what heart did she beare?
The wicked hearts are plac't farre from their voice.

Ro.
As whē they mourne, you would think they reioice.
She neuet mourn'd, nor sigh'd, nor was afraid,
But this vnto me, ere she died, she said.
Mother, I am your owne, by mothers right
You may cut of my life, which you did giue,
Might and a mothers name, will you acquire,
If in your owne selfe, you your selfe forgiue:
But Mustapha, his death will be his shame
To father, mother, and the Turkish race:
For reuerence vnto a fathers name,
Hath brought him, guiltlesse, to this guiltie case.
He neuer sought, nor wisht his fathers death,
And in that minde I liu'd, and leaue my breath.
She neither stubborne was, nor yet deprest,
She, but for his life, neuer made request:
As though his wounds, had onely beene her owne.
Such Lordship had false glorie in her breast,
As she tooke ioy to haue her mischiefe knowne.
Yet had she this against myne owne selfe done,
My selfe against my selfe she should haue wonne,
Solyman take heede, dispaire hath bloody heeles:
Malice, wound vp like clocks to watch the Sunne,
Hasting a headlong course with many wheeles,
Hath neuer done, vntill it hath vndone.
I slew my child, my child would haue slaine thee,
All bloody faults, in my blood written bee.

Sol.
What hills hath nature rais'd aboue the sier?
What state beyond them is, that will conspire?
I sweare by all the Saints, my sonne shall die,
Reuenge is iustice and no crueltie.

Scena quinta.

Enter Priest & Mustapha.
Pr.
False Mahomet, thy lawes Monarchall are,
Vniust, ambitious, full of spoile and blood,
Hauing not of the best but greatest care
To whome still thou dost sacrifice thy good.
Must life yeeld vp it selfe to be put out,
Before this frame of nature be denied?
Must blood the tribute be of princes doubt?
O wretched flesh in which must be obaid,
Gods lawes, that wills impossibilities:
And princes willes, which worke in crueltie,
With faith (an art borne of false Prophets word)
Wee blind our selues, and with our selues the rest,
To humblenesse, the sheath of tyrants sword,
Each, worst vnto himselfe approuing best.
People, beleeue in God, wee are vntrue,
Spirituall forges vnto princes might;
God doth require, what's onely best for you;
But we doe preach, your bodies to the warre,
Your goods to spoile, your freedome into bands,
(duties by which you aw'de of others are)
And feare which to your harmes doth lead your hands:
Who preach, that God, who made all flesh alike,
Bids you lay downe your necks for kings to strike.
I am the diuels friend, Hells Mediatour,
Truths spight, ruines hand, and sinnes occasion,
A furie vnto man, a man to furies.
Oh vertue, if thou any where haue essence
But in sweet Mustapha, whome I haue ruind;
And you faire-orderly-confused Planets,
If you be more then ornaments in heauen,
And that you worke in destinies of the mortall,
Shew vs, that destinies be not confus'd,
Not euill to the good, good to the euill;
Confusion is the iustice of the diuell.
Saue Mustapha, fates course well changed is,
Where constancie leades her to doe amisse:
Change or turne backe your course, let Asia know,
That earth doth hatch her owne ill destinie,
Which in aspects the starres but onely shew,
Lay forth the hatefull vilde conspiracie,
Wherein this tyrant meanes to ouerthrow
His sonne, the hope of all humanitie.
In Mustapha with influence worke so,
As he is full: and strength at once may see,
Whom, monster, I, haue hither made to come,
Guiltlesse through guiltie feare to take his doome,
Now hell and paine, if you else where be seated,
Then ------ absence and my presence.
Call me againe in hast to come vnto you,
If worse I be not with my selfe, then with you.

Must.
Whēce grows this sudaine rage, thy gesture vtters,
These agonies, and furious blasphemies?
Is rage become the Lord of humane reason?
For rage doth shew, that reason is defaced,
When rage thus shews it selfe with reason graced.

Priest.
If thou hast felt thy selfe, accusing warre,
Where knowledge is, the endlesse hell of thought,
Where hope and feare in equall ballance are,
My state of minde is by the feeling taught:
For what dispaire the conscience doth feare,
My wounds bleed euer, for remorse they beare.

Must.
Remorse and pride in nature opposite:
The one makes errour great, the other small,
But rooted ill brings no remorse with it,
Iudge not thy selfe with troubled will at all:
But shew thy hart: when passions streames breake forth
Euen woes we wondred at, proue nothing worth.

Preist.
I haue offended nature, God, and thee,
My hart and soule, the seates of mischiefe bee.

Musta.
Of God, his mercy is the greatest power,
Nature is sweet, her wounds heale vp againe:
For me, tell how, and teach me to forgiue,
Which, he that cannot doe, knows not to liue.

Pr.
Forgiuenes is, to take away the cause,
It forceth God to plague, or breake his lawes.

Musta.
Forgiuenes is, to put away the wrongs,
At least, so much as to my selfe belongs.

Pr.
It is a praise to pardon, it is true,
But keepe me rather from vndoing you.

Musta.
What should I doe? tell me, I doe not feare,

Pr.
Preserue thy father with thy selfe and mee,
Else guiltie of each others death we be.

Musta.
Tell how.

Pr.
Thy father purposeth thy death,
I did aduise thou offredst vp thy breath.

Musta.
What haue I to my father done amisse?

Pr.
That wicked Rossæ thy stepmother is.

Musta.
Wherein of Rossa, haue I ill deserued?

Pr.
In that the Empire is for thee preserued.

Musta.
I cannot choose but be my fathers sonne,
As bold ambition, which like water-flouds,
Not channell-bound, doth neighbours ouer-runne,
And growest nothing, when thy rage is done.
Is vertue bought and sold for loue of good?
Must Zangers rising from my fall be wonne?
Poore Zanger I acquire thee of my blood:
For I beleeue thy hart hath no impression.
To ruine Mustapha of his possession,
Yet tell what they against me vse,
My fathers loue which way first did they wound?

Pr.
Of treason towards him they thee accuse,
Thy fame and greatnes giues their malice ground.

Musta.
Good world, where it is danger to be good,
Where guilty people shall liue in good name,
The guiltlesse onely, liue and die in shame:
Shew me the truth, to what lawes am I bound?

Priest.
No man commanded is by God to die,
As long as he may persecution flie.

Must.
To flie, were to condemne my selfe and friends
To honour those, that would dishonor me:
To ruine those, that should my succour be,
Death do thy worst, thy longest paines haue end.
Besides, where can man hide those coward feares,
But feares and hopes of powers will them reueale?
For kings haue many tongues and many eares.
Mischiefe is like the Cockatrices eyes;
Sees first and kils, or is seene first and dies.
He that himselfe defending, doth offend,
Breakes not the law, nor needs not be forgiuen.
Duty doth end, when kings do go astray,
Misguided by their owne or others will:
For disobedience is, when it doth light
To hurt, but duty, when vs'd as a presse,
It sets a princes crooked humors right.

Priest.
Vse not thy strength to shed thy fathers blood,
But vse thy strength to do thy father good.
Rossa, while she attends to ruine thee,
Makes Soliman against his state to sinne.
Take armes against her, do thy father free,
Translating heires doth oft bring ruine in,
And since euen vice, by good successe, seemes good,
Good fortune will make vertue vnderstood.

Must.
O false and wicked colours of desire,
Eternall bondage vnto him, that seekes
To be possest of all things that he likes.
Shall I, a sonne and subiect, seeme to dare
For Princes sake to set the realme on fire?
Which golden titles to rebellion are,
It is not feare of death, which ioyes to dye,
They feare death, that from death to mischiefe flie.
If I be kild, I do not ill, but suffer,
It is no paine to die, for children do it,
It is no grace to liue, the wicked haue it:
Let children cry, and slaues do ill for feare,
Death is not strange to men, why then repine we?
Death is of force to man, to what end striue we?
Obedience goes vpright, the stubborne fall,
God burnes his rods, but we must suffer all.
Euen you haue told me, wealth was giuen
The wicked, to corrupt themselues and others.
Greatnesse and health do make flesh proud and cruell,
Where with the good, sicknesse mowes downe desire,
Death glorifies, misfortune humbles,
Sorrow seekes peace of God, sinne yeelds repentance:
Since therefore life is but the throne of danger,
Where sicknes, paine, desire, and feare inherit,
Soonest escapt from him, that holds it dearest,
Euen of men the least worth, the most beloued,
A double death to them that hold it so,
And hauing nothing else must it forgo:
Should I, that know the destinie of life,
Do that, to liue, that doth his honor life?
My innocency bids me not to feare,
My loue and duty for a father looke:
Worthines he shewes, that can misfortune beare,
The heart doth iudge of vertue, not the booke:
I know my strength and in my strength resolue,
To do that, wicked men may thinke me weake,
And now that all the world knowes I might liue,
That power vnto my father I freely giue.

Priest.
Wilt thou both kill thy selfe, and be the cause
Thy father may offend Gods holy lawes:
The world knowes cowards kill themselues for feare.
First let thy father know he doth thee wrong,
They often bide death, that cannot danger bide;
And in these duties afterwards be strong.

Must.
Tempt me no more, good will is then a paine,
When her words beat the heart, and cannot enter,
I constant in my counsell doe remaine,
And more liues for my life will not aduenter.
Deere Rossa doe thou for my sake still liue,
By thee my father may repent my fall,
When thy heart of my truth shall witnesse giue:
Stay thou, till time and destinie doe call,
Warne Acmat and Camena they aduise,
Least they like rage that doth her owne selfe beate,
Seeking to helpe, or to preuent my fall,
Ruine themselues, while they for me intreat.
My life in your liues I shall thinke preserued,
When you know, I haue worse then I deserued.
Come let vs goe, for kindnesse doth betray,
The heart, that firmely on it selfe doth stay.

Chorus Tartarorum.