 | Antonius |  |
Act. 2.
Philostratus.
What horrible furie, what cruell rage,
O Ægipt so extremely thee torments?
Hast thou the Gods so angred by thy fault?
Hast thou against them some such crime conceiu'd,
That their engrained hand lift vp in threats
They should desire in thy hart bloud to bathe?
And that their burning wrath which nought can quench
Should pittiles on vs still lighten downe?
O Ægipt so extremely thee torments?
Hast thou the Gods so angred by thy fault?
Hast thou against them some such crime conceiu'd,
That their engrained hand lift vp in threats
They should desire in thy hart bloud to bathe?
And that their burning wrath which nought can quench
Should pittiles on vs still lighten downe?
We are not hew'n out of the monst'rous masse
Of Giantes those, which heauens wrack conspir'd:
Ixions race, false prater of his loues:
Nor yet of him who fained lightnings found:
Nor cruell Tantalus, nor bloudie Atreus,
Whose cursed banquet for Thyestes plague
Made the beholding Sunne for horrour turne
His backe, and backward from his course returne:
And hastning his wing-footed horses race
Plunge him in sea for shame to hide his face:
While sulleine night vpon the wondring world
For mid-daies light her starrie mantle cast,
Of Giantes those, which heauens wrack conspir'd:
Ixions race, false prater of his loues:
Nor yet of him who fained lightnings found:
Nor cruell Tantalus, nor bloudie Atreus,
Whose cursed banquet for Thyestes plague
Made the beholding Sunne for horrour turne
His backe, and backward from his course returne:
And hastning his wing-footed horses race
Plunge him in sea for shame to hide his face:
While sulleine night vpon the wondring world
For mid-daies light her starrie mantle cast,
But what, we be, what euer wickednes
By vs is done, Alas! with what more plagues,
More eager torments could the Gods declare
To heauen and earth that vs they hatefull holde?
With Souldiors, strangers, horrible in armes
Our land is hidde, our people drown'd in teares.
But terror here and horror, nought is seene:
And present death prizing our life each hower.
Hard at our ports and at our porches waites
Our conquering foe: harts faile vs, hopes are dead:
Our Queene laments: and this great Emperour
Sometime (would now they did) whom worlds did feare,
Abandoned, betraid, now mindes no more
But from his euils by hast'ned death to passe.
By vs is done, Alas! with what more plagues,
More eager torments could the Gods declare
To heauen and earth that vs they hatefull holde?
Our land is hidde, our people drown'd in teares.
But terror here and horror, nought is seene:
And present death prizing our life each hower.
Hard at our ports and at our porches waites
Our conquering foe: harts faile vs, hopes are dead:
Our Queene laments: and this great Emperour
Sometime (would now they did) whom worlds did feare,
Abandoned, betraid, now mindes no more
But from his euils by hast'ned death to passe.
Come you poore people tir'de with ceasles plaints
With teares and sighes make mournfull sacrifice
On Isis altars: not our selues to saue,
But soften Cæsar and him piteous make
To vs, his pray: that so his lenitie
May change our death into captiuitie.
With teares and sighes make mournfull sacrifice
On Isis altars: not our selues to saue,
But soften Cæsar and him piteous make
To vs, his pray: that so his lenitie
May change our death into captiuitie.
Strange are the euils the fates on vs haue brought,
O but alas! how farre more strange the cause!
Loue, loue (alas, who euer would haue thought?)
Hath lost this Realme inflamed with his fire.
Loue, playing loue, which men say kindles not
But in soft harts, hath ashes made our townes.
And his sweet shafts, with whose shot none are kill'd,
Which vlcer not, with deaths our lands haue fill'd,
O but alas! how farre more strange the cause!
Loue, loue (alas, who euer would haue thought?)
Hath lost this Realme inflamed with his fire.
Loue, playing loue, which men say kindles not
But in soft harts, hath ashes made our townes.
And his sweet shafts, with whose shot none are kill'd,
Which vlcer not, with deaths our lands haue fill'd,
Such was the bloudie, murdring, hellish loue
Possest thy hart faire false guest Priams Sonne,
Fi'ring a brand which after made to burne
The Troian towers by Græcians ruinate.
By this loue, Priam, Hector, Troilus,
Memnon, Deiphobus, Glaucus, thousands mo,
Whome redd Scamanders armor clogged streames
Roll'd into Seas, before their dates are dead.
So plaguie he, so many tempests raiseth,
So murdring he, so many Cities raiseth,
When insolent, blinde, lawles, or derles,
With madd delights our sence he entertaines.
Possest thy hart faire false guest Priams Sonne,
Fi'ring a brand which after made to burne
The Troian towers by Græcians ruinate.
By this loue, Priam, Hector, Troilus,
Memnon, Deiphobus, Glaucus, thousands mo,
Whome redd Scamanders armor clogged streames
So plaguie he, so many tempests raiseth,
So murdring he, so many Cities raiseth,
When insolent, blinde, lawles, or derles,
With madd delights our sence he entertaines.
All knowing Gods our wracks did vs foretell
By signes in earth, by signes in starry Sphæres:
Which should haue mou'd vs, had not destinie
With too strong hand warped our miserie.
The Comets flaming through the scat'red clouds
With fiery beames, most like vnbroaded haires:
The fearefull dragon whistling at the bankes,
And holie Apis ceaseles bellowing
(As neuer erst) and shedding endles teares:
Bloud raining downe from heau'n in vnknow'n showers:
Our Gods darke faces ouercast with woe,
And dead mens Ghosts appearing in the night.
Yea euen this night while all the Cittie stoode
Opprest with terror, horror, seruile feare,
Deepe silence ouer all: the sounds were heard
Of diuerse songs, and diuers instruments,
Within the voide of aire: and howling noise,
Such as madde Bacchus priests in Bacchus feasts
On Nisa make: and (seem'd) the company,
Our Cittie lost, went to the enemie.
By signes in earth, by signes in starry Sphæres:
Which should haue mou'd vs, had not destinie
With too strong hand warped our miserie.
The Comets flaming through the scat'red clouds
With fiery beames, most like vnbroaded haires:
The fearefull dragon whistling at the bankes,
And holie Apis ceaseles bellowing
(As neuer erst) and shedding endles teares:
Bloud raining downe from heau'n in vnknow'n showers:
Our Gods darke faces ouercast with woe,
And dead mens Ghosts appearing in the night.
Yea euen this night while all the Cittie stoode
Opprest with terror, horror, seruile feare,
Deepe silence ouer all: the sounds were heard
Of diuerse songs, and diuers instruments,
Within the voide of aire: and howling noise,
Such as madde Bacchus priests in Bacchus feasts
On Nisa make: and (seem'd) the company,
Our Cittie lost, went to the enemie.
So we forsaken both of Gods and men,
So are we in the mercy of our foes:
And we hencefoorth obedient must become
To lawes of them who haue vs ouercome.
So are we in the mercy of our foes:
And we hencefoorth obedient must become
To lawes of them who haue vs ouercome.
Lament we our mishaps,
Drowne we with teares our woe:
For Lamentable happes
Lamented easie growe:
And much lesse torment bring
Then when they first did spring.
We want that wofull song,
Wherwith wood-musiques Queene
Doth ease her woes, among,
fresh springtimes bushes greene,
On pleasant branche alone
Renewing auntient mone.
We want that monefull sounde,
That pratling Progne makes
On fieldes of Thracian ground,
Or streames of Thracian lakes:
To empt her brest of paine
For Itys by her slaine.
Though Halcyons doo still,
Bewailing Ceyx lot,
The Seas with plainings fill
Which his dead limmes haue got,
Not euer other graue
Then tombe of waues to haue:
And though the birde in death
That most Meander loues
So swetely sighes his breath
When death his fury proues,
And almost blunts his dart:
Yet all the plaints of those,
Nor all their tearfull larmes,
Cannot content our woes,
Nor serue to waile the harmes,
In soule which we, poore we,
To feele enforced be.
Nor they of Phæbus bredd
In teares can doo so well,
They for their brother shedd,
Who into Padus fell,
Rash guide of chariot cleare
Surueiour of the yeare.
Nor she whom heau'nly powers
To weping rocke did turne,
Whose teares distill in showers,
And shew she yet doth mourne,
Where with his toppe to Skies
Mount Sipylus doth rise.
Nor weping drops which flowe
From barke of wounded tree,
That Myrrhas shame do showe
With ours compar'd may be,
To quench her louing fire
Who durst embrace her sire.
Nor all the howlings made
On Cybels sacred hill
By Eunukes of her trade,
Who Atys, Atys still
With doubled cries resound,
Our plaints no limits stay,
Nor more then doo our woes:
Both infinitely straie
And neither measure knowes.
In measure let them plaine:
Who measur'd griefes sustaine.
Cleopatra. Eras. Charmion. Diomede.
Cleopatra.
That I haue thee betraid, deare Antonie,
My life, my soule, my Sunne? I had such thought?
That I haue thee betraide my Lord, my King?
That I would breake my vowed faith to thee?
Leaue thee? deceiue thee? yeelde thee to the rage
Of mightie foe? I euer had that hart?
Rather sharpe lightning lighten on my head:
Rather may I to deepest mischiefe fall:
Rather the opened earth deuower me:
Rather fierce Tigers feed them on my flesh:
Rather, ô rather let our Nilus send,
To swallow me quicke, some weeping Crocodile.
My life, my soule, my Sunne? I had such thought?
That I haue thee betraide my Lord, my King?
That I would breake my vowed faith to thee?
Leaue thee? deceiue thee? yeelde thee to the rage
Of mightie foe? I euer had that hart?
Rather sharpe lightning lighten on my head:
Rather may I to deepest mischiefe fall:
Rather the opened earth deuower me:
Rather fierce Tigers feed them on my flesh:
Rather, ô rather let our Nilus send,
To swallow me quicke, some weeping Crocodile.
And didst thou then suppose my royall hart
Had hatcht, thee to ensnare, a faithles loue?
And changing minde, as Fortune changed cheare,
I would weake thee, to winne the stronger, loose?
O wretch! ô caitiue! ô too cruell happe!
And did not I sufficient losse sustaine
Loosing my Realme, loosing my liberty,
My tender of-spring, and the ioyfull light
Of beamy Sunne, and yet, yet loosing more
Thee Antony my care, if I loose not
What yet remain'd? thy loue alas! thy loue,
More deare then Scepter, children, freedome, light.
Had hatcht, thee to ensnare, a faithles loue?
And changing minde, as Fortune changed cheare,
I would weake thee, to winne the stronger, loose?
O wretch! ô caitiue! ô too cruell happe!
And did not I sufficient losse sustaine
Loosing my Realme, loosing my liberty,
Of beamy Sunne, and yet, yet loosing more
Thee Antony my care, if I loose not
What yet remain'd? thy loue alas! thy loue,
More deare then Scepter, children, freedome, light.
So ready I to row in Charons barge,
Shall leese the ioy of dying in thy loue:
So the sole comfort of my miserie
To haue one tombe with thee is me berest.
So I in shady plaines shall plaine alone,
Not (as I hop'd) companion of thy mone,
O height of griefe!
Shall leese the ioy of dying in thy loue:
So the sole comfort of my miserie
To haue one tombe with thee is me berest.
So I in shady plaines shall plaine alone,
Not (as I hop'd) companion of thy mone,
O height of griefe!
Eras.
why with continuall cries
Your griefull harmes doo you exasperate?
Torment your selfe with murthering complaints?
Straine your weake breast so oft, so vehemently?
Water with teares this faire alablaster?
With sorrowes sting so many beauties wound?
Come of so many Kings want you the hart
Brauely, stoutly, this tempest to resist?
Cl.
My eu'lls are wholy vnsupportable,
No humain force can them withstand, but death.
Eras.
To him that striues nought is impossible.
Cl.
In striuing lyes no hope of my mishapps.
Eras.
All things do yeelde to force of louely face.
Cl.
My face too louely caus'd my wretched case.
My face hath so entrap'd, so cast vs downe,
That for his conquest Cæsar may it thanke,
Causing that Antony one army lost
The other wholy did to Cæsar yeld.
For not induring (so his amorouse sprite
Was with my beautie fir'de) my shamefull flight,
In hottest fight, my Gallies making saile:
Forgetfull of his charge (as if his soule
Vnto his Ladies soule had bene enchain'd)
He left his men, who so couragiouslie
Did leaue their liues to gaine him victorie.
And carelesse both of fame and armies losse
My oared Gallies follow'd with his Ships
Companion of my flight, by this base parte
Blasting his former flourishing renowne.
Eras.
Are you therefore cause of his ouerthrowe?
Cl.
I am sole cause: I did it, only I.
Er,
Feare of a woman troubled so his sprite?
Cl.
Fire of his loue was by my feare enflam'd.
Er.
And should he then to warre haue ledd a Queene?
Cl.
Alas! this was not his offence, but mine.
Antony (ay me! who else so braue a chiefe!)
Would not I should haue taken Seas with him:
But would haue left me fearfull woman farre
From common hazard of the doubtfull warre.
Antony (ay me! who else so braue a chiefe!)
Would not I should haue taken Seas with him:
But would haue left me fearfull woman farre
From common hazard of the doubtfull warre.
O that I had beleu'd! now, now of Rome
All the great Empire at our beck should bende.
All should obey, the vagabonding Scythes,
The feared Germains, back-shooting Parthians,
Wandring Numidians, Brittons farre remoou'd,
And tawny nations scorched with the Sunne.
But I car'd not: so was my soule possest,
(To my great harme) with burning iealousie:
Fearing least in my absence Antony
Should leauing me retake Octauia.
All the great Empire at our beck should bende.
All should obey, the vagabonding Scythes,
The feared Germains, back-shooting Parthians,
Wandring Numidians, Brittons farre remoou'd,
And tawny nations scorched with the Sunne.
But I car'd not: so was my soule possest,
(To my great harme) with burning iealousie:
Fearing least in my absence Antony
Should leauing me retake Octauia.
Char.
Such was the rigour of your destinie.
Such was my errour and obstinacie.
Ch.
But since Gods would not, could you doe withall?
Cl.
Alwaies from Gods good happs, not harms, do fall.
Ch.
And haue they not all power on mens affaires?
Cl.
They neuer bow so lowe, as worldly cares.
But leaue to mortall men to be dispos'd
Freelie on earth what euer mortall is.
If we therin sometimes some faultes commit,
We may them not to their high maiesties,
But to our selues impute; whose passions
Plunge vs each day in all afflictions.
Wherwith when we our soules do thorned feele,
Flatt'ring our selues we say they dest'nies are:
That Gods would haue it so, and that our care
Could not empeach but that it must be so.
Char.
Things here belowe are in the heau'ns begot,
Before they be in this our wordle borne:
And neuer can our weaknes turne awry
The stailes course of powerfull destenie.
Nought here force, reason, humaine prouidence,
Holie deuotion, noble bloud preuailes:
And Ioue himselfe whose hand doth heauens rule,
Who both to Gods and men as King commaunds,
Who earth (our firme support) with plenty stores,
Moues aire and sea with twinckling of his eie,
Who all can doe, yet neuer can vndoe
What once hath been by their hard lawes decreed.
Before they be in this our wordle borne:
And neuer can our weaknes turne awry
The stailes course of powerfull destenie.
Nought here force, reason, humaine prouidence,
Holie deuotion, noble bloud preuailes:
And Ioue himselfe whose hand doth heauens rule,
Who both to Gods and men as King commaunds,
Who earth (our firme support) with plenty stores,
Moues aire and sea with twinckling of his eie,
Who all can doe, yet neuer can vndoe
What once hath been by their hard lawes decreed.
When Troian walles, great Neptunes workmanship,
Enuiron'd were with Greekes, and Fortunes whele
Doubtfull ten yeares now to the campe did turne,
And now againe towards the towne return'd:
How many times did force and fury swell
In Hectors veines egging him to the spoile
Of conquer'd foes, which at his blowes did flie,
As fearfull shepe at feared wolues approche:
To saue (in vaine: for why? it would not be)
Pore walles of Troie from aduersaries rage,
Who died them in bloud, and cast to ground
Heap'd them with bloudie burning carcases.
Enuiron'd were with Greekes, and Fortunes whele
Doubtfull ten yeares now to the campe did turne,
And now againe towards the towne return'd:
In Hectors veines egging him to the spoile
Of conquer'd foes, which at his blowes did flie,
As fearfull shepe at feared wolues approche:
To saue (in vaine: for why? it would not be)
Pore walles of Troie from aduersaries rage,
Who died them in bloud, and cast to ground
Heap'd them with bloudie burning carcases.
No, Madame, thinke, that if the ancient crowne
Of your progenitors that Nilus rul'd,
Force take from you; the Gods haue will'd it so,
To whome oft times Princes are odiouse.
They haue to euery thing an end ordain'd;
All worldly greatnes by them bounded is;
Some sooner, later some, as they think best:
None their decree is able to infringe.
But, which is more, to vs disastred men
Which subiect are in all things to their will,
Their will is hidd: nor while we liue, we know
How, or how long we must in life remaine.
Yet must we not for that feede on dispaire,
And make vs wretched ere we wretched bee:
But alwaies hope the best, euen to the last,
That from our selues the mischief may not growe.
Of your progenitors that Nilus rul'd,
Force take from you; the Gods haue will'd it so,
To whome oft times Princes are odiouse.
They haue to euery thing an end ordain'd;
All worldly greatnes by them bounded is;
Some sooner, later some, as they think best:
None their decree is able to infringe.
But, which is more, to vs disastred men
Which subiect are in all things to their will,
Their will is hidd: nor while we liue, we know
How, or how long we must in life remaine.
Yet must we not for that feede on dispaire,
And make vs wretched ere we wretched bee:
But alwaies hope the best, euen to the last,
That from our selues the mischief may not growe.
Then, Madame, helpe your selfe, leaue of in time
Antonies wracke, lest it your wracke procure:
Retire you from him, saue frrom wrathfull rage
Of angry Cæsar both your Realme and you.
You see him lost, so as your amitie
Vnto his euills can yelde no more reliefe.
You see him ruin'd, so as your support
No more hencefourth can him with comfort raise.
With-draw you from the storme: persist not still
To loose your selfe: this royall diademe
Regaine of Cæsar.
Antonies wracke, lest it your wracke procure:
Retire you from him, saue frrom wrathfull rage
Of angry Cæsar both your Realme and you.
You see him lost, so as your amitie
Vnto his euills can yelde no more reliefe.
You see him ruin'd, so as your support
With-draw you from the storme: persist not still
To loose your selfe: this royall diademe
Regaine of Cæsar.
Cl.
Soner shining light
Shall leaue the daie, and darknes leaue the night:
Sooner moist currents of tempestuous seas
Shall waue in heauen, and the nightlie troopes
Of starres shall shine within the foming waues,
Then I thee, Antonie, Leaue in depe distres.
I am with thee, be it thy worthy soule
Lodge in thy brest, or from that lodging parte
Crossing the ioyles lake to take hir place
In place prepared for men Demy-gods.
Liue, if thee please, if life be lothsome die:
Dead and aliue, Antonie, thou shalt see
Thy princesse follow thee, folow, and lament,
Thy wrack, no lesse her owne then was thy weale.
Char.
What helps his wrack this euer-lasting loue?
Cl.
Help, or help not, such must, such ought I proue.
Char.
Ill done to loose your selfe, and to no ende.
Cl.
How ill thinke you to follow such a frende?
Char.
But this your loue nought mitigates his paine.
Cl.
Without this loue I should be inhumaine.
Char.
Inhumaine he, who his owne death pursues.
Cl.
Not inhumaine who miseries eschues.
Ch.
Liue for your sonnes.
Cl.
Nay for their father die.
Cha.
Hardhearted mother!
Cl.
Wife kindhearted I.
Ch.
Then will you them depriue of royall right?
Cl.
Do I depriue them? no, it's dest'nies might.
Ch.
Do you not them not depriue of heritage,
That giue them vp to aduersaries handes,
Whome such huge numbers hold enuironned?
T'abandon one gainst whome the frowning world
Banded with Cæsar makes conspiring warre.
Cl.
The lesse ought I to leaue him lest of all.
A frend in most distresse should most assist.
If that when Antonie great and glorious
His legious led to drinke Euphrates streames,
So many Kings in traine redoubting him;
In triumph rais'd as high as highest heaun;
Lord-like, disposing as him pleased best,
The wealth of Greece, the wealth of Asia:
In that faire fortune had I him exchaung'd
For Cæsar, then, men would haue counted me
Faithles, vnconstant, light: but now the storme,
And blustring tempest driuing on his face,
Readie to drowne, Alas! what would they saie?
What would himselfe in Plutos mansion saie?
If I, whome alwaies more then life he lou'de,
If I, who am his heart, who was his hope,
Leaue him, forsake him (and perhaps in vaine)
Weakly to please who him hath ouerthrowne?
Not light, vnconstant, faithlesse should I be,
But vile, forsworne, of treacherous crueltie.
Ch.
Crueltie to shunne, you selfe-cruell are.
Cl.
Selfe-cruell him from crueltie to spare.
Ch.
Our first affection to our self is due.
Cl.
He is my selfe.
Ch.
Next it extendes vnto
Our children, frends, and to our countrie soile.
And you for some respect of wiuelie loue,
(Albee scarce wiuelie) loose your natiue land,
With so strong charmes doth loue bewitch our witts:
So fast in vs this fire once kindled flames.
Yet if his harme by yours redresse might haue,
Cl.
With mine it may be clos'de in darksome graue.
Ch.
And that, as Alcest to hir selfe vnkinde,
You might exempt him from the lawes of death.
But he is sure to die: and now his sworde
Alreadie moisted is in his warme bloude,
Helples for any succour you can bring
Against deaths stinge, which he must shortlie feele.
You might exempt him from the lawes of death.
But he is sure to die: and now his sworde
Alreadie moisted is in his warme bloude,
Helples for any succour you can bring
Against deaths stinge, which he must shortlie feele.
Then let your loue be like the loue of olde
Which Carian Queene did nourish in hir heart
Of hir Mausolus: builde for him a tombe
Whose statelinesse a wonder new may make.
Let him, let him haue sumtuouse funeralles:
Let graue thereon the horror of his fights:
Let earth be buri'd with vnburied heaps.
Frame ther Pharsaly, and discolour'd stream's
Of depe Enipeus: frame the grassie plaine,
Which lodg'd his campe at siege of Mutina.
Make all his combats, and couragiouse acts:
And yearly plaies to his praise institute:
Honor his memorie: with doubled care
Breed and bring vp the children of you both
In Cæsars grace: who as a noble Prince
Will leaue them Lords of this most gloriouse realme.
Which Carian Queene did nourish in hir heart
Of hir Mausolus: builde for him a tombe
Whose statelinesse a wonder new may make.
Let him, let him haue sumtuouse funeralles:
Let graue thereon the horror of his fights:
Let earth be buri'd with vnburied heaps.
Frame ther Pharsaly, and discolour'd stream's
Of depe Enipeus: frame the grassie plaine,
Which lodg'd his campe at siege of Mutina.
Make all his combats, and couragiouse acts:
And yearly plaies to his praise institute:
Honor his memorie: with doubled care
Breed and bring vp the children of you both
In Cæsars grace: who as a noble Prince
Will leaue them Lords of this most gloriouse realme.
Cl.
What shame were that? ah Gods! what infamie?
With Antonie in his good happs to share,
And ouerliue him dead: deeming enough
To shed some teares vpon a widdowe tombe?
That I him onlie for his empire lou'd,
And high state: and that in hard estate
I for another did him lewdlie leaue?
Like to those birds wafted with wandring wings
From foraine lands in spring-time here arriue:
And liue with vs so long as Somers heate,
And their foode lasts, then seke another soile.
And as we see with ceaslesse fluttering
Flocking of seelly flies a brownish cloud
To vintag'd wine yet working in the tonne,
Not parting thence while they swete liquor taste:
After, as smoke, all vanish in the aire,
And of the swarme not one so much appeare.
Eras.
By this sharp death what profit can you winne?
Cl.
I neither gaine, nor profit seke therin.
Er.
What praise shall you of after-ages gett?
Cl.
Nor praise, nor glory in my cares are sett.
Er.
What other end ought you respect, then this?
Cl.
My only ende my onely dutie is.
Er.
your dutie must vpon some good be founded.
Cl.
On vertue it, the onlie good, is grounded.
Er.
What is that vertue?
Cl.
That which vs beseemes.
Er.
Outrage our selues? who that beseeming deemes?
Cl.
Finish I will my sorowes dieng thus.
Er.
Minish you will your glories doing thus.
Cl.
Good frends I praie you seeke not to reuoke
My fix'd intent of folowing Antonie.
I will die. I will die: must not his life,
His life and death by mine be folowed?
My fix'd intent of folowing Antonie.
I will die. I will die: must not his life,
His life and death by mine be folowed?
Meane while, deare sisters, liue: and while you liue,
Doe often honor to our loued Tombes.
Straw them with flowrs: and sometimes happelie
The tender thought of Antonie your Lorde
And me poore soule to teares shall you inuite,
And our true loues your dolefull voice commend.
Straw them with flowrs: and sometimes happelie
The tender thought of Antonie your Lorde
And me poore soule to teares shall you inuite,
And our true loues your dolefull voice commend.
Ch.
And thinke you Madame, we from you will part?
Thinke you alone to feele deaths ougly darte?
Thinke you to leaue vs? and that the same sunne
Shall see at once you dead, and vs aliue?
Weele die with you: and Clotho pittilesse
Shall vs with you in hellish boate imbarque.
Cl.
Ah liue, I praie you: this disastred woe
Which racks my heart, alone to me belonges:
My lottlongs not to you: seruants to be
No shame, no harme to you, as is to me.
Which racks my heart, alone to me belonges:
My lottlongs not to you: seruants to be
No shame, no harme to you, as is to me.
Liue sisters, liue, and seing his suspect
Hath causlesse me in sea of sorowes drown'd,
And that I can not liue, if so I would,
Nor yet would leaue this life, if so I could,
Without, his loue: procure me, Diomed,
That gainst poore me he be no more incensd.
Wrest out of his conceit that harmfull doubt,
That since his wracke he hath of me conceiu'd
Though wrong conceiu'd: witnesse you reuerent Gods,
Barking Anubis, Apis bellowing.
Tell him, my soule burning, impatient,
Forlorne with loue of him, for certaine seale
Of her true loialtie my corpse hath left,
T'encrease of dead the number numberlesse.
Hath causlesse me in sea of sorowes drown'd,
And that I can not liue, if so I would,
Nor yet would leaue this life, if so I could,
Without, his loue: procure me, Diomed,
That gainst poore me he be no more incensd.
Wrest out of his conceit that harmfull doubt,
That since his wracke he hath of me conceiu'd
Though wrong conceiu'd: witnesse you reuerent Gods,
Barking Anubis, Apis bellowing.
Tell him, my soule burning, impatient,
Forlorne with loue of him, for certaine seale
Of her true loialtie my corpse hath left,
T'encrease of dead the number numberlesse.
Go then, and if as yet he me bewaile,
If yet for me his heart one sigh fourth breathe
Blest shall I be: and farre with more content
Depart this world, where so I me torment.
Meane season vs let this sadd tombe enclose,
Attending here till death conclude our woes.
If yet for me his heart one sigh fourth breathe
Depart this world, where so I me torment.
Meane season vs let this sadd tombe enclose,
Attending here till death conclude our woes.
Diom.
I will obey your will.
Cl.
So the desert
The Gods repay of thy true faithfull heart.
Diomed.
And is't not pittie, Gods, ah Gods of heau'n!
To see from loue such hatefull frutes to spring?
And is't not pittie that this firebrand so
Laies waste the trophes of Philippi fieldes?
Where are those swete allurements, those swete lookes,
Which Gods themselues right hart-sicke would haue made?
What doth that beautie, rarest guift of heau'n,
Wonder of earth? Alas! what doe those eies?
And that swete voice all Asia vnderstoode,
And sunburnt Afrike wide in deserts spred?
Is their force dead? haue they no further power?
Can not by them Octauius be surpriz'd?
Alas! if Ioue in middst of all his ire,
With thunderbolt in hand some land to plague,
Had cast his eies on my Queene, out of hande
His plaguing bolte had falne out of his hande:
Fire of his wrathe into vaine smoke should turne,
And other fire within his brest should burne.
To see from loue such hatefull frutes to spring?
And is't not pittie that this firebrand so
Laies waste the trophes of Philippi fieldes?
Where are those swete allurements, those swete lookes,
Which Gods themselues right hart-sicke would haue made?
What doth that beautie, rarest guift of heau'n,
Wonder of earth? Alas! what doe those eies?
And that swete voice all Asia vnderstoode,
And sunburnt Afrike wide in deserts spred?
Is their force dead? haue they no further power?
Can not by them Octauius be surpriz'd?
Alas! if Ioue in middst of all his ire,
With thunderbolt in hand some land to plague,
Had cast his eies on my Queene, out of hande
His plaguing bolte had falne out of his hande:
Fire of his wrathe into vaine smoke should turne,
And other fire within his brest should burne.
Nought liues so faire. Nature by such a worke
Her selfe, should seme, in workmanship hath past.
She is all heau'nlie: neuer any man
But seing hir was rauish'd with her sight.
The Allablaster couering of hir face,
The corall coullor hir two lipps engraines,
Her beamie eies, two Sunnes of this our world,
Of hir faire haire the fine and flaming golde,
Her braue streight stature, and hir winning partes
Are nothing else but fiers, fetters, dartes.
Her selfe, should seme, in workmanship hath past.
She is all heau'nlie: neuer any man
But seing hir was rauish'd with her sight.
The corall coullor hir two lipps engraines,
Her beamie eies, two Sunnes of this our world,
Of hir faire haire the fine and flaming golde,
Her braue streight stature, and hir winning partes
Are nothing else but fiers, fetters, dartes.
Yet this is nothing th'e'nchaunting skilles
Of her cælestiall Sp'rite, hir training speache,
Her grace, hir Maiestie, and forcing voice,
Whither she it with fingers speach consorte,
Or hearing sceptred kings embassadors
Answer to eache in his owne language make.
Of her cælestiall Sp'rite, hir training speache,
Her grace, hir Maiestie, and forcing voice,
Whither she it with fingers speach consorte,
Or hearing sceptred kings embassadors
Answer to eache in his owne language make.
Yet now at nede she aides hir not at all
With all these beauties, so hir sorowe stings.
Darkned with woe hir only studie is
To wepe, to sigh, to seke for lonelines.
Careles of all, hir haire disordred hangs:
Hir charming eies whence murthring looks did flie,
Now riuers grown', whose well spring anguish is,
Do trickling wash the marble of hir face.
Hir faire discouer'd brest with sobbing swolne
Selfe cruell she still martireth with blowes,
With all these beauties, so hir sorowe stings.
Darkned with woe hir only studie is
To wepe, to sigh, to seke for lonelines.
Careles of all, hir haire disordred hangs:
Hir charming eies whence murthring looks did flie,
Now riuers grown', whose well spring anguish is,
Do trickling wash the marble of hir face.
Hir faire discouer'd brest with sobbing swolne
Selfe cruell she still martireth with blowes,
Alas! It's our ill happ, for if hir teares
She would conuert into hir louing charmes,
To make a conquest of the conqueror,
(As well shee might, would she hir force imploie)
She should vs saftie from these ills procure,
Hir crowne to hir, and to hir race assure.
Vnhappy he, in whome selfe-succour lies,
Yet self-forsaken wanting succour dies.
She would conuert into hir louing charmes,
To make a conquest of the conqueror,
(As well shee might, would she hir force imploie)
She should vs saftie from these ills procure,
Hir crowne to hir, and to hir race assure.
Vnhappy he, in whome selfe-succour lies,
Yet self-forsaken wanting succour dies.
O swete fertile land, wherin
Phæbus did with breath inspire
Man who men did first begin,
Formed first of Nilus mire.
Whence of Artes the eldest kindes,
Earthes most heauenly ornament,
Were as from their fountaine sent,
To enlight our mistie mindes.
Whose grosse sprite from endles time,
As in darkned prison pente,
Neuer did to knowledg clime.
Wher the Nile, our father good,
Father-like doth neuer misse
Yearely vs to bring such food,
As to life required is:
Visiting each yeare this plaine,
And with fatt slime cou'ring it,
Which his seauen mouthes do spitt,
As the season comes againe.
Making therby greatest growe
Busie reapers ioyfull paine,
When his flouds do highest flowe.
Wandring Prince of riuers thou,
Honor of the Æthiops lande,
Of a Lord and master now
Thou a slaue in awe must stand.
Now of Tiber which is spred
Lesse in force, and lesse in fame
Whome all other riuers dread,
For his children swolne in pride,
Who by conquest seeke to treade
Round this earth on euery side.
Now thou must begin to sende
Tribute of thy watrie store,
As Sea pathes thy stepps shall bende,
Yearely presents more and more.
Thy fatt skumme, our frutefull corne,
Pill'd from hence with theeuish hands
All vncloth'd shall leaue our lands
Into foraine Countrie borne.
Which puft vp with such a pray
Shall therby the praise adorne
Of that scepter Rome doth sway.
Nought thee helps thy hornes to hide
Farre from hence in vnknowne grounds,
That thy waters wander wide,
Yearely breaking bankes, and bounds.
And that thy Skie-coullor'd brookes
Through a hundred peoples passe,
Drawing plots for trees and grasse
With a thousand turn's and crookes.
Whome all weary of their way
Thy throats which in widenesse passe
Powre into their Mother Sea.
Nought so happie haplesse life
“In this worlde as freedome findes:
“Nought wherin more sparkes are rise
“To inflame couragious mindes.
“Nedes a yoke to vndergoe,
“Vnder foraine yoke to goe
“Still it proues a bondage worse.
“And doubled subiection
“See we shall, and feele, and knowe
“Subiect to a stranger growne.
From hence forward for a King,
whose first being from this place
Should his brest by nature bring
Care of Countrie to embrace,
We at surly face must quake
Of some Romaine madly bent:
Who, our terrour to augment,
His Proconsuls axe will shake.
Driuing with our Kings from hence
Our establish'd gouerment,
Iustice sworde, and Lawes defence.
Nothing worldly of such might
But more mightie Destinie,
By swift Times vnbridled flight,
Makes in ende his ende to see.
Euerything Time ouerthrowes,
Nought to ende doth stedfast staie:
His great sithe mowes all away
As the stalke of tender rose.
Onlie Immortalitie
Of the Heau'ns doth it oppose
Gainst his powerfull Deitie.
One daie there will come a daie
Which shall quaile thy fortunes flower,
In some barbarous Princes power.
When the pittie-wanting fire
Shall, O Rome, thy beauties burne,
And to humble ashes turne
Thy proud wealth, and rich attire,
Those guilt roofes which turretwise,
Iustly making Enuie mourne,
Threaten now to pearce Skies.
As thy forces fill each land
Haruests making here and there,
Reaping all with rauening hand
They finde growing any where:
From each land so to thy fall
Multitudes repaire shall make,
From the common spoile to take
What to each mans share maie fall.
Fingred all thou shalt beholde:
No iote left for tokens sake
That thou wert so great of olde.
Like vnto the auncient Troie
Whence deriu'de thy founders be,
Conqu'ring foe shall thee enioie,
And a burning praie in thee.
For within this turning ball
This we see, and see each daie:
All things fixed ends do staie,
Ends to first beginnings fall.
And that nought, how strong or strange,
Chaungles doth endure alwaie,
But endureth fatall change.
| Antonius | |