University of Virginia Library

Now clattering arms

The death of Zoroas, an Egiptian Astronomer, in the first fight, that Alexander had with the Persians.

Now clattering arms, now ragyng broyls of warr
Gan passe the noyes of taratantars clang:
Shrowded with shafts, the heuen: with clowd of darts,
Couered, the ayre: against fulfatted bulls,
As forceth kindled ire the Lions keen:
Whose greedy gutts the gnawing hoonger pricks:
So Macedoins against the Persians fare.
Now corpses hide the purpurde soyl with blood:
Large slaughter, on ech side: but Perses more
Moyst feelds bebledd: their herts, and noombers bate.
Fainted while they giue back, and fall to flight:
The lightning Macedon, by swoords, by gleaus,
By bands, and trowps, of fotemen with his garde,
Speeds to Darie: but him, his nearest kyn,
Oxate preserues, with horsemen on a plump
Before his cart: that none the charge could giue.
Here grunts, here grones, echwhere strong youth is spent:
Shaking her bloody hands, Bellone, among
The Perses, soweth all kindes of cruel death.
With throte ycutt, hee roores: hee lyeth along,
His entrails with a launce through girded quite:
Him down the club, him beats farstryking bowe,
And him the slyng, and him the shinand swoord:
Hee dieth, hee is all dedd, hee pants, hee rests.
Right ouer stood, in snowwhite armour braue,

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P2v

The Memphite Zoroas, a cooning clerk:
To whom the heauen lay open, as his book:
And in celestiall bodyes hee could tell
The moouyng, meetyng, light, aspect, eclyps,
And influence, and constellations all:
What earthly chaunces wold betide: what yere
Of plenty storde, what signe forwarned derth:
How winter gendreth snow: what temperature
In the primetide dothe season well the soyl:
Why soomer burns: why autum hath ripe grapes:
Whether the circle, quadrate may becoom:
Whether our tunes heauens harmony can yeeld:
Of fowr begynns, among them selues how great
Proportion is: what swaye the erring lightes
Dothe send in course gayn that first moouing heauen:
What grees, one from an other distant bee:
What sterr dothe lett the hurtfull fire to rage,
Or him more mylde what opposition makes:
What fire dothe qualifie Mauorses fire:
What house echone doth seek: what planet raigns
Within this hemisphere, or that: small things
I speak: holl heauen hee closeth in his brest.
This sage then, in the starrs had spied: the fates
Threatned him death, without delaye: and sithe
Hee saw, hee could not fatall order change:
Forward hee preast, in battayl that hee might
Meet with the ruler of the Macedoins:
Of his right hand desirous to be slayn,
The boldest beurn, and worthiest in the feeld:
And, as a wight now weary of his life,
And seeking death: in first front of his rage,
Cooms desperatly to Alisanders face:
At him, with darts, one after other, throwes:
With reckles woords, and clamour him prouokes:
And sayth, Nectanabs bastard, shameful stain
Of mothers bed: why losest thou thy strokes,
Cowards emong? Turn thee to mee, in case
Manhod ther bee so much left in thy hert:
Coom fight with mee: that on my helmet wear
Apolloes laurel, bothe for learnings laude,
And eke for Martiall prayse: that, in my shield,
The seuenfold sophie of Minerue contein:

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P3r

A match, more meet, sir king, than any here.
The noble prince amoued, takes ruthe vpon
The wilfull wight: and, with soft woords, ayen,
O monstrous man (quod he) whatso thou art
I praye thee, lyue: ne do not, with thy death,
This lodge of lore, the Muses mansion marr.
That treasure house this hand shall neuer spoyl:
My swoord shall neuer bruze that skylfull brayn,
Longgatherd heapes of science soon to spyll.
O, how faire frutes may you to mortall men
From wisdoms garden, giue? How many may,
By you, the wyser, and the better proue?
What error, what mad moode, what phrenzey thee
Persuades to bee downsent to deep Auern:
Where no artes florish, nor no knowledge vails?
For all these sawes, when thus the souerain sayde,
Alighted Zoroas: with swoord vnsheathed,
The carelesse king there smote, aboue the greaue,
At thopening of his quishes: wounded him
So, that the blood down reyled on the ground
The Macedon, perceyuing hurt, gan gnash:
But yet his minde he bent, in any wyse,
Hym to forbear: set spurrs vnto his steed,
And turnd away: leste anger of the smart
Should cause reuenger hand deal balefull blowes.
But of the Macedonian chieftanes knights
One, Meleager, could not bear this sight:
But ran vpon the sayd Egyptian renk:
And cut him in both kneez: hee fell to ground:
Wherwith a hole route came of souldiours stern,
And all in peeces hewed the silly seg.
But happyly the soll fled to the sterres:
Where, vnder him, he hath full sight of all,
Wherat hee gazed here, with reaching looke.
The Persians wayld such sapience to forgo:
The very fone, the Macedonians wisht,
Hee wold haue lyued: kyng Alisander self
Deemd him a man, vnmeet to dye at all:
Who woon lyke prayse, for conquest of his ire,
As for stout men in feeld that daye subdeewd:
Who princes taught, how to discern a man,

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P3v

That in his hed so rare a iewell beares.
But ouer all, those same Camenes, those same
Diuine Camenes, whose honour he procurde,
As tender parent dothe his daughters weal:
Lamented: aud,

[_]

and

for thanks, all that they can,
Do cherish him deceast, and set hym free
From derk obliuion of deuouryng death.