And was never satisfy'd: He can say by proof of toil, Ambition is a vulture vile, That feeds upon the heart of pride, nd finds no rest when all is try'd. For worlds cannot confine the one; Th' other lists and bounds hath none; And both subvert the mind, the state, Procure destruction, envy, hate.

nd now when all this is prov'd vain,
Yet opinion leaves not here,
But sticks to Cleopatra near,
Persuading now, how she shall gain
onour by death, and fame attain,
And what a shame it was to live,
Her kingdom lost, her loyer dead:
And so with this persuasion led,
Despair doth such a courage give,
hat nought else can her mind relieve,
Nor yet divert her from that thought:
To this conclusion all is brought.
This is that rest this vain world lends,
To end in death, that all things ends.

But is it justice that all we,

The innocent poor multitude,

For great men's faults should punish'd be,
And to destruction thus pursu'd?
O why should th' Heavens us include,
Within the compass of their fall,
Who of themselves procured all?
Or do the gods (in close) decree,
Occasion take how to extrude

Man from the Earth with cruelty?
Ah no, the gods are ever just,
Our faults excuse their rigour must.

This is the period fate set down,
To Egypt's fat prosperity:
Which now unto her greatest grown,
Must perish thus, by course must die,
And some must be the causers why
This revolution must be wrought;
As born to bring their state to nought:
To change the people and the crown,
And purge the world's iniquity:

Which vice so far hath overgrown,
As we, so they that treat us thus,
Must one day perish like to us.

CHORUS.

FROM THE SAME.

O fearful frowning Nemisis,
Daughter of Justice most severe,
That art the world's great arbitress,
And queen of causes reigning here:

se swift sure hand is ever near
Eternal Justice, righting wrong:
Who never yet deferrest long
The prouds' decay, the weaks' redress:
But through thy power every where,
Dost raze the great, and raise the less;
The less made great doth ruin too,
To show the Earth what Heaven can do.

Thou from dark-clos'd eternity,

From thy black cloudy hidden seat,
The world's disorders dost desery:
Which when they swell so proudly great,
Reversing th' order Nature set,

Thou giv'st thy all-confounding doom,
Which none can know before it come.
Th' inevitable destiny,
Which neither wit nor strength can let,
Fast chain'd unto necessity,
In mortal things doth order 30,
Th' alternate course of weal or woe.

O how the pow'rs of Heaven do play
With travelled mortality:
And doth their weakness still betray,
In their best prosperity!
When being lifted up so high,

They look beyond themselves so far,
That to themselves they take no care;
Whilst swift confusion down doth lay
Their late proud mounting vanity:
Bringing their glory to decay,
And with the ruin of their fall,
Extinguish people, state, and all.
OL. III.

CHORUS.

FROM THE SAME.

Mysterious Egypt, wonder-breeder,
Strict religion's strange observer,
State-orderer Zeal, the best rule-keeper,
Fost'ring still intemp'rate fervour:
O how cam'st thou to lose so wholly
All religion, law, and order?
And thus become the most unholy

Of all lands, that Nilus border?
How could confus'd Disorder enter

Where stern Law sat so severely? How durst weak Lust and Riot venture Th' eye of Justice looking nearly? Could not those means that made thee great, Be still the means to keep thy state?

Ah no, the course of things requireth
Change and alteration ever:
That same continuance man desireth,
Th' unconstant world yieldeth never.
We in our counsels must be blinded,

And not see what doth import us: And oftentimes the thing least minded,

Is the thing that most must hurt us. Yet they that have the stern in guiding,

'T is their fault that should prevent it, For oft they seeing their country sliding, Take their ease, as though contented. We imitate the greater powers, The prince's manners fashion ours.

Th' example of their light regarding,
Vulgar looseness much incenses:
Vice uncontrol'd grows wide enlarging,
Kings' small faults be great offences,
And this bath set the window open

Unto licence, lust, and riot:
This way confusion first found broken,
Whereby enter'd our disquiet,

PP

Those laws that old Sesostris founded,

And the Ptolomies observed, Hereby first came to be confounded, Which our state so long preserved. The wanton luxury of court, Did form the people of like sort.

For all (respecting private pleasure) Universally consenting

To abuse their time, their treasure,

In their own delights contenting: And future dangers nought respecting, Whereby, (O how easy matter Made this so general neglecting, Confus'd weakness to discatter?) Cæsar found th' effect true try'd, In his easy entrance making : Who at the sight of arms, descry'd All our people, all forsaking, For riot (worse than war) so sore Had wasted all our strength before.

And thus in Egypt servile render'd To the insolent destroyer:

And all their sumptuous treasure tender'd,
All her wealth that did betray her.
Which poison (O if Heav'n be rightful)
May so far infect their senses,
That Egypt's pleasure, so delightful,

May breed them the like offences; And Romans, learn our way of weakness, Be instructed in our vices:

That our spoils may spoil your greatness,
Overcome with our devices.

Fill full your hands, and carry home,
Enough from us to ruin Rome.

CHORUS.

FROM THE SAME.

THEN thus we have beheld

Th' accomplishment of woes,
The full of ruin, and
The worst of worst of ills:
And seen all hope expell'd,
That ever sweet repose
Shall repossess the land,
That desolation fills,
And where ambition spills,
With uncontrolled hand,
All th' issue of all those
That so long rule have held:
To make us no more us,
But clean confound us thus.

And can'st, O Nilus, thou
Father of floods, endure,
That yellow Tyber should
With sandy streams rule thee?
Wilt thou be pleas'd to bow
To him those feet so pure,
Whose unknown head we hold
A power divine to be?
Thou that didst ever see
Thy free banks uncontroll❜d,
Live under thine own care:
Ah, wilt thou bear it now?

And now wilt yield thy streams

A prey to other realms?

Draw back thy waters, flow
To thy concealed head:
Rocks strangle up thy waves,
Stop cataracts thy fall,
And turn thy courses so,
That sandy deserts dead,
(The world of dust that craves
To swallow thee up all)
May drink so much as shall
Revive from wasty graves,

A living green, which spread
Far flourishing, may grow
On that wide face of death,
Where nothing new draws breath.

Fatten some people there,
Ev'n as thou us hast done,
With plenty's wanton store,
And feeble luxury:

And them as us prepare
Fit for the day of moan,
Respite not before.
Leave levell'd Egypt dry,
A barren prey to lie,
Wasted for evermore;
Of plenties yielding none
To recompense the care
Of victor's greedy lust,

And bring forth nought but dust

And so, O leave to be,

Sith thou art what thou art:

Let not our race possess

Th' inheritance of shame,

The fee of sin, that we

Have left them for their part:
The yoke of whose distress
Must still upbraid our blame,
Telling from whom it came.
Our weight of wantonness
Lies heavy on their heart,
Who nevermore shall see
The glory of that worth
They left, who brought us forth.

O then all-seeing light,
High president of Heaven,
You magistrates, the stars,
Of that eternal court
Of providence and right,

Are these the bounds y' have given
Th' untranspassable bars
That limit pride so short?

Is greatness of this sort,

That greatness greatness mars,
And racks itself, self-driven
On rocks of her own might ?
Doth order order so,
Disorders overthrow?

DEDICATION

OF THE

TRAGEDY OF PHILOTAS.

TO THE PRINCE.

you, most hopeful prince, not as you are, at as you may be, do I give these lines: at when your judgment shall arrive so far, - t' overlook th' intricate designs Funcontented man; you may behold ith what encounters greatest fortunes close, hat dangers, what attempts, what manifold ncumbrances ambition undergoes; ow hardly men digest felicity; ow to th' intemperate, to the prodigal, o wantonness, and unto luxury, Tany things want, but to ambition all. nd you shall find the greatest enemy That man can have, is his prosperity.

[bar,

Here shall you see how men disguise their ends,
And plant bad courses under pleasing shows,
How well presumption's broken ways defends,
Which clear-ey'd judgment gravely doth disclose.
Here shall you see how th' easy multitude,
Transported, take the party of distress;
And only out of passions do conclude,
Not out of judgment of mens' practices;
How powers are thought to wrong, that wrongs de-
And kings not held in danger, though they are.
These ancient representments of times past,
Tell us that men have, do, and always run
The self-same line of action, and do cast
Their course alike, and nothing can be done,
Whilst they, their ends, and nature are the same:
But will be wrought upon the self-same frame.

This benefit, most noble prince, doth yield
The sure records of books, in which we find
The tenure of our state, how it was held
By all our ancestors, and in what kind

We hold the same, and likewise how in th' end
This frail possession of felicity
Shall to our late posterity descend
By the same patent of like destiny.

In them we find that nothing can accrue
To man, and his condition that is new.
Which images here figur'd in this wise,
I leave unto your more mature survey,
Amongst the vows that others sacrifice
Unto the hope of you, that you one day
Will give grace to this kind of harmony.
For know, great prince, when you shall come to
How that it is the fairest ornament

[know,

Of worthy times, to have those which may show
The deeds of power, and lively represent
The actions of a glorious government.
And is no lesser honour to a crown

T' have writers, than have actors of renown.
And though you have a swannet of your own,
Within the banks of Doven, meditates
Sweet notes to you, and unto your renown,*
The glory of his music dedicates,
And in a softy tune is set to sound
The deep reports of sullen tragedies:
Yet may this last of me be likewise found
Amongst the vows that others sacrifice

Unto the hope of you, that you one day May grace this now neglected harmony, Which set unto your glorious actions, may Record the same to all posterity.

Though I the remnant of another time, Am never like to see that happiness, Yet for the zeal that I have borne to rhyme, And to the Muses, wish that good success To others' travel, that in better place, And better comfort, they may be inchear'd Who shall deserve, and who shall have the grace To have a Muse held worthy to be heard. [know, And know, sweet prince, when you shall come to That 't is not in the pow'r of kings to raise A spirit for verse, that is not born thereto, Nor are they born in every prince's days: For late Eliza's reign gave birth to more Than all the kings of England did before.

And it may be, the genius of that time Would leave to her the glory in that kiud, And that the utmost powers of English rhyme Should be within her peaceful reign confin'd; For since that time, our songs could never thrive, But lain as if forlorn; though in the prime Of this new raising season, we did strive To bring the best we could unto the time.

And I, although among the latter train,
And least of those that sung unto this land,
Have borne my part, though in an humble strain,
And pleased the gentler that did understand:
And never had my harmless pen at all
Distain'd with any loose immodesty,
Nor ever noted to be touch'd with gall,
T' aggravate the worst man's infamy.
But still have done the fairest offices

To virtue and the time; yet nought prevails,
And all our labours are without success,
For either favour or our virtue fails.
And therefore since I have outliv'd the date
Of former grace, acceptance, and delight,
I would my lines late born beyond the fate
Of her spent line, had never come to light;
So had I not been tax'd for wishing well,
Nor now mistaken by the censuring stage,
Nor, in my fame and reputation fell,
Which I esteem more than what all the age
Or th' earth can give. But years hath done this

wrong,

To make me write too much, and live too long.
And yet I grieve for that unfinish'd frame,
Which thou, dear Muse, didst vow to sacrifice
Unto the bed of peace, and in the same
Design our happiness to memorize,
Must, as it is, remain, though as it is:
It shall to after-times relate my zeal
To kings and unto right, to quietness,
And to the union of the commonweal.
But this may now seem a superfluous vow,
We have this peace; and thou hast sung enow.
And more than will be heard, and then as good
As not to write, as not be understood.

CHORUS.

SAMUEL DANIEL.

FROM THE SAME.

WE as the chorus of the vulgar, stand Spectators here, to see these great men play Their parts both of obedience and command, And censure all they do, and all they say.

For though we be esteem'd but ignorant,
Yet are we capable of truth, and know
Where they do well, and where their actions want
The grace that makes them prove the best in show:
And though we know not what they do within,
Where they attire their mysteries of state,
Yet know we by th' events what plots have been,
And how they all without do personate.

We see who well a meaner part became,
Fail in a greater and disgrace the same.
We see some worthy of advancement deem'd,
Save when they have it: some again have got
Good reputation, and been well-esteem'd
In place of greatness, which before were not.
We see affliction act a better scene [clean;
Than prosperous fortune, which hath marr'd it
We see that all which we have prais'd in some,
Have only been their fortune, not desert: [come,
Some war have grac'd, whom peace doth ill be-
And lustful ease hath blemish'd all their part:
We see Philotas acts his goodness ill,
And makes his passions to report of him
Worse than he is: and we do fear he will
Bring his free nature to b' intrap'd by them.
For sure there is some engine closely laid
Against his grace and greatness with the king:
And that unless his humours prove more stay'd,
We soon shall see his utter ruining.

And his affliction our compassion draws,
Which still looks on men's fortunes, not the cause.

How dost thou wear, and weary out thy days,
Restless Ambition, never at an end!
Whose travels no Herculean pillar stays,
But still beyond thy rest thy labours tend,
Above good fortune thou thy hopes dost raise,
Still climbing, and yet never canst ascend:

For when thou hast attain'd unto the top
Of thy desires, thou hast not yet got up.
That height of fortune either is control'd
By some more pow'rful overlooking eye,
(That doth the fulness of thy grace withhold)
Or countercheck'd with some concurrency,
That it doth cost far more ado to hold
The height attain'd, than was to get so high,
Where stand thou canst not, but with careful toil,
Nor loose thy hold without thy utter spoil.
There dost thou struggle with thine own distrust,
And others' jealousies there counterplot,
Against some underworking pride, that must
Supplanted be, or else thou standest uot;
There wrong is play'd with wrong, and he that thrusts
Down others, comes himself to have that lot.

The same concussion doth afflict his breast
That others shook, oppression is oppress'd.
That either happiness dwells not so high,
Or else above, whereto pride cannot rise:
And that the high'st of man's felicity,
But in the region of affliction lies:
And that we climb but up to misery.
High fortunes are but high calamities.

It is not in that sphere where peace doth move;
Rest dwells below it, happiness above.

For in this height of fortune are imbred
Those thund'ring fragors that affright the Eart
From thence have all distemp'ratures their bea
That brings forth desolation, famine, dearth:
There certain order is disordered,

And there it is confusion hath her birth.
It is that height of fortune doth undo
Both her own quietness and others too.

CHORUS.

FROM THE SAME.

SEE how these great men clothe their private hate
In those fair colours of the public good;
And to effect their ends, pretend the state,
As if the state by their affections stood:
And arm'd with pow'r and princes' jealousies,
Will put the least conceit of discontent
Into the greatest rank of treacheries,
That no one action shall seem innocent:
Yea, valour, honour, bounty shall be made
As accessaries unto ends unjust:
And e'en the service of the state must lade
The needfull'st undertakings with distrust.
So that base vileness, idle luxury,

Seem safer far, than to do worthily.
Suspicion, full of eyes, and full of ears,
Doth through the tincture of her own conceit
See all things in the colours of her fears,
And truth itself must look like to deceit,
That what way ever the suspected take,
Still envy will most cunningly forelay
The ambush of their ruin, or will make
Their humours of themselves to take that way.
But this is still the fate of those that are
By nature or their fortunes eminent,
Who either carried in conceit too far,
Do work their own or others' discontent,
Or else are deemed fit to be suppress'd,
Not for they are, but that they may be ill,
Since states have ever had far more unrest
By spirits of worth, than men of meaner skill;
And find, that those do always better prove,
Wh' are equal to employment, not above.
For self-opinion would be seen more wise,
Than present counsels, customs, orders, laws:
And to the end to have them otherwise,
The commonwealth into cumbustion draws,
As if ordain'd t' embroil the world with wit,
As well as grossness, to dishonour it.

Your great men here, as our great satrapaes, · I see laid prostrate are with basest shame, Upon the least suspect or jealousies Your kings conceive, or others' envies frame; Only herein they differ, that your prince Proceeds by form of law t' effect his end; Our Persian monarch makes his frown convince The strongest truth, his sword the process ends With present death, and makes no more ado: He never stands to give a gloss unto His violence, to make it to appear In other hue than that it ought to bear, Wherein plain dealing best his course commends: For more h' offends who by the law offends. What need have Alexander so to strive By all these shows of form, to find this man Guilty of treason, when he doth contrive To have him so adjudg'd? do what he can, He must not be acquit, though he be clear, Th' offender, not th' offence, is punish'd here. And what avails the fore-condemn'd to speak? However strong his cause, his state is weak.

GRECIAN.

Ah, but it satisfies the world, and we
Think that well done, which done by law we see.

PERSIAN.

And yet your law serves but your private ends, And to the compass of your power extends: But is it for the majesty of kings,

To sit in judgment thus themselves with you?

GRECIAN.

To do men justice, as the thing that brings The greatest majesty on Earth to kings.

PERSIAN.

That, by their subalternate ministers
May be perform'd as well, and with more grace:
For, to command it to be done, infers
More glory than to do. It doth imbase
Th' opinion of a power t' invulgar so
That sacred presence, which should never go,
Never be seen, but e'en as gods, below,
Like to our Persian king in glorious show;
And who, as stars affixed to their sphere,
May not descend to be from what they are.

GRECIAN.

Where kings are so like gods, there subjects are not

men.

PERSIAN.

GRECIAN.

Indeed since prosperous fortune gave the rein
To head-strong power and lust, I must confess
We Grecians have lost deeply by our gain,
And this our greatness makes us much the less:
For by th' accession of these mighty states,
Which Alexander wondrously hath got,
He hath forgot himself and us, and rates
His state above mankind, and ours at nought.
This hath thy pomp (O.feeble Asia) wrought!
Thy base adorings hath transformed the king
Into that shape of pride, as he is brought
Out of his wits, out of acknowledging

From whence the glory of his greatness springs,
And that it was our swords that wrought these things.
How well were we within the narrow bounds
Of our sufficient yielding Macedon,
Before our kings enlarg'd them with our wounds,
And made these sallies of ambition!
Before they came to give the regal law [awe!
To those free states, which kept their crowns in
They by these large dominions are made more,
But we became far weaker than before.
What get we now by winning, but wide minds
And weary bodies, with th' expense of blood?
What should ill do, since happy fortune finds
But misery, and is not good though good?
Action begets still action, and retains
Our hopes beyond our wishes, drawing on
A never ending circle of our pains,
That makes us not have done, when we have done.
What can give bounds to Alexander's ends.
Who counts the world but small, that calls him
And his desires beyond his prey distends, [great;
Like beasts, that murder more than they can eat?
When shall we look his travels will be done,
That tends beyond the ocean and the Sun?
What discontentments will there still arise
In such a camp of kings, to intershock
Each others' greatness, and what mutinies
Will put him from his comforts, and will mock
His hopes, and never suffer him to have
That which he hath of all which fortune gave?
And from Philotas blood (O worthy man)
Whose body now rent on the torture lies,
Will flow that vein of fresh conspiracies,
As overflow him will, do what he can:
For cruelty doth not embetter men,
But them more wary makes than they have been.

PERSIAN.

Are not your great men free from torture then, Must they be likewise rack'd as other men?

GRECIAN.

Who like offends, hath punishment all one.