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THE 


POETICAL    WORKS 


OF 


SIR  WILLIAM  ALEXANDER, 

EARL  OF  STIRLING,  d-r. 

NOW   FIRST   COLLECTED   AND   EDITED, 
WITH  MEMOIR  AND  NOTES. 


IN  THREE  VOLUMES. 
VOL.  II. 


4  fi "  ^  •■ 


GLASGOW:    MAURICE    OGLE   &    CO. 

1872, 


GLASGOW: 

i'KINTED   BY    BELL   AND    BAIN, 

41    MITCHELL   STREET. 


2^3  ^^ 


CONTENTS   OF   VOLUME  II. 


PAGE 

The  Tragedy  of  Darivs, i 

The  Alexandrian  Tragedy, 87 

The  Tragedy  of  Jvlivs  C/Esar,         .        .        .        .211 

MISCELLANEOUS    PIECES. 
Some  Verses  written  at  the  Time  of  His  Maiesties 

First  Entrie  into  England,      ....  327 
Some  Verses  written  by  Reason  of  an  Inundation 

OF  Douen, 329 

To  M.  Michaell  Drayton, 331 

A  Reply  to  the  King, 332 

A  Sonnet  by  King  James  VI., 333 

On  the  Death  of  Mr.  John  Murray,     .        .        .335 
On  the   Report  of  the  Death  of  Drummond  of 

Hawthornden, 336 

To  His  Worthy  Friend,  Master  Walter  Quin,  .  338 

Sonnet, 339 

To  Mr.  Edward  Allane, 340 

Attributed  Poem, 342 


THE    TRAGEDY    OF 


DARIVS. 


VOL.  II. 


THE    ARGUMENT. 

Darius,  tlie  fourteenth  from  Cyi'iis,  King  of  Posin,  being, 
after  the  death  of  Occhus,  for  his  singular  valour,  from  the 
government  of  Armenia,  advanced  to  the  Persian  Empire, 
became  so  arrogant  (a  good  successe  as  it  were  setting  him 
forward  to  confusion)  as  he  sent  to  demand  tribute  of  Philip, 
then  King  of  Macedonia,  \\\\o,  lieing  of  a  hauty  nature  (and 
inferiour  to  none  of  that  age  in  courage,  or  for  military  dis- 
cipline), requited  this  contumelious  message  with  as  disdainefull 
an  answer;  threatning  that  he  would  come  and  deliver  it  in 
Persepolis.  But  being  prevented  by  death,  he  left  the  execution 
of  his  designe  to  his  Sonne  Alexander,  who  for  the  great  victories 
whicli  thereafter  he  obtained,  was  sumamed  the  great.  He, 
inheriting  the  hatred  of  his  father  towards  Darius,  and  farre 
surmounting  him  in  ambition,  past  in  person  to  Asia,  with  an 
army  of  thirty  thousand  men  onely. 

After  his  arrivall,  Darius  wrote  to  him  in  a  proud  and  con- 
temptible manner,  ascribing  to  himselfe  the  title  of  the  King  of 
Kings,  and  kinsman  of  the  Gods,  and  naming  Alexander  his 
servant ;  hee  also,  in  vaunting  mannei",  bragged  that  he  would 
have  that  mad  boy,  the  sonne  of  Philip  (for  so  in  derision  he 
termed  him),  bound,  and  beaten  with  roddes,  and  after  brought 
to  his  presence  apparelled  like  a  prince.  For  performance 
whereof  he  directed  one  of  his  minions,  with  forty  thousand  men, 
to  make  impediment  to  his  passage  at  the  river  of  Granick, 
where,  by  the  wonderfull  valour  of  Alexander,  they  were  over- 
throwne. 

Darius  being  advertised  of  this,  came  himselfe  in  proper 
]5erson,  accompanied  with  infinite  (Init  evill  ordered)  numbers, 
and  encountred  Alexander  beside  Isso,  in  the  strait  of  Cilicia, 
where,  having  fought  a  doubtfuU  and  bloudy  battell,  in  end  by 
tlie  invincible  valour  and  never-failing  fortune  of  Alexander,  his 
army  was  defeated,  himselfe  put  to  flight,  and  his  mother,  wife, 
and  children  made  captives.  Who  were  most  courteously 
entertained  by  Alexander,  who,  notwithstanding  their  exceeding 


The  Argiuiieut.  3 

great  beauty,  yet  would  not  abuse  them,  nor  suffer  them  to  bee 
abused  by  others,  nor  visited  he  them  more  then  once  (and  that 
to  comfort  them)  all  the  time  of  their  imprisonment. 
'Darius,  notwithstanding  of  all  his  losses  (his  courage  being 
in  the  full,  whilst  his  fortune  was  in  the  waine),  wrote  vevy 
proudly  to  Alexander,  taking  still  the  title  of  a  king  to  himselfe, 
but  not  giving  it  to  him,  offering  him  as  much  gold  as  Macedon 
could  containe,  for  ransome  of  the  captives.  Which  being  very 
disdainfully  refused  by  Alexander,  he  having  re-enforced  his 
troupes,  and  comming  fonvard  to  fight  with  greater  force  then 
before,  was  informed  how  his  wife  had  died  in  prison,  whose 
death  he  bewailed  with  exceeding  great  sorrow.  And  under- 
standing what  courtesie  Alexander  had  used  towards  her,  he 
sent  to  sue  for  peace,  not  for  any  feare  of  his  force,  but  allured 
(as  he  alledged)  by  his  courtesie.  This  sute  being  likewise 
rejected,  he  fought  beside  Arhella,  with  no  better  fortune  then 
before. 

Yet  for  all  these  misfortunes,  being  of  an  invincible  courage, 
and  despairing  of  peace,  he  re-assembled  all  his  forces,  which 
were  augmented  by  the  comming  of  the  Baetrians,  and  was 
comming  forward,  with  intention  at  last  either  to  dye  or  prevaile. 
But  in  the  meanetime,  two  traiterous  subjects  of  his  owne, 
Beshis,  whom  he  had  preferred  to  be  governour  of  Bactria,  and 
Nabarzanes,  one  in  special  credit  with  him,  conspired  his  death. 
Which  danger,  though  it  was  revealed  to  him  by  Patron,  captaine 
of  the  Greekes,  yet  he  could  not,  or  rather  would  not  eschew. 
At  length,  those  two  traitours  tooke,  and  bound  him  with 
golden  chaines,  and  cast  him  in  an  old  chariot,  with  purpose  to 
present  him  to  Alexander.  But  they  hearing  how  he  would  not 
accept  their  present,  and  how  he  was  comming  to  invade  them, 
threw  their  darts  at  Darhts,  and  left  him  for  dead.  In  this 
estate  he  was  found  by  Polystratiis,  and  after  the  delivery  of 
some  few  words,  dyed.  Alexander  having  exceedingly  lamented 
his  miserable  and  undeserved  end,  directed  his  body  to  his 
mother,  Sisiganibis,  to  be  honourably  buried. 


THE   PERSONS   NAMES   THAT   SPEAKE. 


Darius. 

SisiGAMBis,  his  Mother. 
Statira,  his  Wife. 
Stat  IRA,  his  Daughter. 
TiRiOTES,  their  Eunuch. 

Nabarzanes,    )   ,       rj.     ., 

'   >  t7uo  1  raitors. 

Bessus,  ) 

Patron,  Captaine  of  the  mer- 
cenary Greekes. 


NUNTIUS. 

Alexander. 

Parmenio,  his  Lieutenant. 
Hephestion,  his  Minion. 
Polystratus,  a  .Souldier. 
Artabazus,    a    N'oblenian  of 

Persia. 
Chorus,  all  Persia  ns. 


The  Scene  supposed  in  Babylon. 


THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

DARIVS. 


ACT   I. 


Darius. 


What  thund'ring  pow'r  grown  jealous  of  my  state, 
Which  (having  daunted  th'  earth)  perchance  heaven 
fears,* 

Thus  arm'd  with  hghtning,  breathing  flames  of  hate. 

Big  with  disdaine,  high  indignation  beares? 

Long  smooth'd  of  all,  whilst  I  (pale  cares  despis'd) 

In  fortunes  lap  asleep,  of  greatnesse  dream'd,+ 

Even  in  that  calme,  my  state  a  storme  surpris'd, 

And  ere  I  wak't,  my  ruine  was  proclaim'd ; 

Thus  I,  whose  onely  name  did  terrour  give 

(As  Idoll  of  the  world),  ador'd  over  all 

(With  crosses  compass'd),  such  a  wretch  doe  live,^ 

"  With  such  hostihtie  my  troupes  o'er-throwes." — 1604. 

t  "  In  greatnesse  shadow,  I  securelie  slept, 
Lo,  change-affecting  fortune  wheels  about 
And  ruines  all  that  me  from  ruin  kept."— 1604. 

X  "  Am  so  degraded  now  and  sunk  in  woes, 

That  who  admired  my  might,  admired  my  fall."— 1604. 


6  Stirling's  Foe/ns. 

That  who  admir'd  my  might,  admire  my  fall ; 

Ah,  then  indeed  I  fell,  when  gallants  stood, 

And  Phcenix-like  renew'd  their  lives  by  death; 

Who  having  seal'd  their  force,  and  faith,  with  bloud, 

Would  rather  dye,  then  draw  a  borrowed  breath; 

Yet  I,  not  I,  did  view,  not  venge  (though  neare) 

Those  monstrous  mountaines  of  my  subjects  slaine, 

Though  even  my  enemies  *  must  my  courage  cleare. 

Which  flames  of  fury  lightned  forth  in  vaine; 

Through  greatest  dangers,  death  I  did  pursue. 

Till  heapes  of  slaughtred  bodies  barr'd  my  way, 

And  chang'd  my  chariot  to  a  scarlet  hue, 

Ere  wounded  honour  could  be  drawne  away; 

O  how  I  envy  yet  their  happy  ghosts! 

Who  dy'd  whilst  hope  of  victory  remain'd, 

And  in  the  presence  of  two  famous  hosts, 

To  praise  their  valour,  even  their  foes  constrain'd : 

Shall  I  survive  that  memorable  shame, 

Which  Persia's  glory  with  disgrace  confin'd? 

No,  rather  let  me  dye,  and  let  my  name, 

As  vaine,  quite  vanish,  raz'd  from  every  minde. 

Starre-boasting  Babylon,  all  As/as  queene, 

Blush  to  behold  thy  king  in  such  a  state, 

That  by  the  gazing  world  he  now  is  seene,  t 

(A  scorned  suter)  humbly  to  entreate; 

But  not  turn'd  vassall,  as  by  pow'r  appall'd; 

Though  all  my  empire  to  a  period  come. 

Yet  none  shall  vaunt  that  ever  I  was  thrall'd; 

*   "  Although  my  conscience." — 1604. 

t  "  How  may  thy  tovv'rs  but  tremble,  when  'tis  told 

Thy  prince  entreats^  whom  princes  earst  entreated." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  7 

"  Hearts  holding  courage,  are  not  quite  o're-come."" 

Sliould  I  whose  soveraignty  so  oft  was  sworne,* 

Be  seene  submisse  to  scape  a  minutes  paines, 

No,  let  them  bow,  who  but  to  bow  were  borne : 

For  Darius  this  indignity  disdaines. 

Since  I  was  once  judg'd  wortliy  to  command. 

Shall  I  descend  a  subjects  state  to  try : 

No,  whilst  a  sword  yeelds  homage  to  this  hand, 

I  scorne  to  grant  a  greater  man  then  I. 

Brave  sprites,  who  now  possesse  the  pleasant  bow'rs, 

And  glorious  gardens  of  th'  elysian  plaines, 

(For,  if  deserts  may  move  th'  infernall  pow'rs, 

That  happy  shade  your  shadowes  now  containes) 

Those  fatall  fields  where  I  did  leade  you  forth. 

Your  bodies  bury,  but  enlarge  your  fames, 

Men  shall  adore  the  relickes  of  your  worth. 

And  trophees  reare  to  your  immortall  names; 

rie  sacrifice  as  incense  to  your  soules. 

His  dying  sighes,  and  sorrowing  parents  teares. 

Who  now,  whilst  none  his  prospering  pride  t  controules. 

Our  conquer'd  ensignes  in  his  triumph  beares : 

For,  it  may  ease  your  ghosts  to  heare  his  grones. 

Whilst  burden'd  earth  rebounding  backe  doth  send 

A  wailing  eccho  (rais'd  from  woods  and  stones). 

With  wounded  words  to  shew  that  armies  end. 

Why  spend  I  speeches  to  disturbe  your  rest, 

As  but  with  words  (an  idle  speaker)  pleas'd? 

A  mighty  fury  hath  enflamed  my  brest, 

*   "  This  tongue  inur'd  still  to  command  doth  scorne 

To  breathe  base  words  to  scape  a  minutes  paines." — 1604. 
+  "  Insolence." — 1604. 


8  Stirlim^  s  Poems. 


i> 


And  I  will  rage,  till  by  revenge  appeas'd. 

Did  I  that  strong  Cadusian  first  afi-ont, 

Who  durst  advance  himselfe  to  brave  our  bands, 

Then  turn'd  applauded,  and  in  high  account, 

Charg'd  with  his  spoiles,  the  honour  of  my  hands'? 

What,  could  I  then  (all  kinde  of  doubt  remov'd) 

Alone  adventure  to  an  armies  shame? 

And  should  I  now  (that  ancient  praise  disprov'd) 

With  squadrons  compass' d,  lose  that  glorious  name'? 

Blinde  fortune,  O!  thy  stratagems  are  strange! 

Which    spoile    my   pow'r,    and    staine    my   honour 

too, 
And  (having  made  my  state  the  stage  of  change) 
Hast  acted  all  was  in  thy  power  to  doe; 
Loe,  I,  who  late  of  swarming  troups  did  boast, 
Neere  left  alone,  have  fortunes  fraud  disclos'd  ;* 
And  those  made  captives  whom  I  fancy  most, 
To  vaunting  victors  are  by  fates  expos'd  : 
O  torment  but  to  thinke,  death  to  beleeve, 
That  any  may  my  dearest  part  annoy, 
And  I,  wretch'd  I,  not  able  to  releeve 
Mine  eyes  chiefe  Jewell,  and  my  hearts  chiefe  joy, 
Deare  object  of  my  thoughts,  my  life,  my  love, 
Sweet  spring  of  my  delights,  my  one,  my  all, 
Bright  image  of  th'  excellencies  above, 
Whaf?    do'st   thou   breath,   and   com'st  not  when  I 

cain 
And  can  I  be,  and  not  be  where  thou  art  % 
Hath  heaven  the  force,  me  from  thy  face  to  barre  ? 
Or  are  my  hands  growne  traitours  to  my  heart  % 

*  "  Am  spoiled  of  all  in  wliom  I  then  reposed." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius. 

That  they  should  shrinke  from  doing  what  it  dare  : 
O  !  could  my  minde  but  distribute  a  space 
Those  emulating  thoughts  which  tosse  my  brest, 
To  pointlesse  ciphers,  who  but  spend  a  place, 
Then  I  alone  might  animate  the  rest ; 
Since  in  this  great  disgrace,  I  chanc'd  to  fall, 
Now  nothing  rests  to  raise  my  fame  forlorne. 
But  by  some  desperate  course  to  hazard  all ; 
rie  live  with  praise,  or  by  my  death  flye  scorne ; 
Some  prosp'rous  issue  afterward  may  purge 
This  crime  which  fortune  hath  impos'd  on  me, 
This  crime  that  carrys  with  it  selfe  a  scourge  : 
No  greater  torment  then  the  want  of  thee  ; 
"  But  fortunes  course,  what  mortall  can  restraine,* 
"  Who  diadems  through  dust  for  sport  doth  roule  T' 
A  stranger  now  o're  my  delights  doth  raigne, 
And  may  extort  the  treasures  of  my  soule ; 
Now,  not  till  now,  I  apprehend  my  harmes. 
When  I  imagine  how  my  best  belov'd 
Must  entertaine  mine  enemy  in  her  amies. 
And  I  so  farre  from  offering  ayde  remov'd  ; 
A  host  of  furies  in  my  brest  I  finde, 
Which  doe  my  soule  with  dreadfull  horrours  fill, 
Whilst  melancholy  musters  in  my  minde 
Strange  apprehensions  that  affright  me  still; 
And  this  surmiz'd  disgrace,  grown  throughly  strong, 
Reades  hourely  in  mine  eares  a  hatefuU  scroule 

*  "  But  what  hope  rests  to  re-obtaine  that  treasure 
Which  auaritious  tyrants  once  possesse  ? 
Another  now  disposes  at  his  pleasure 
Of  all  my  wealth  :  how  can  I  looke  for  lesse." — 1604. 


I  o  Stirlifigs  Poems. 

Of  an  imagin'd,  yet  a  helpelesse  *  wrong, 

Such  poison'd  thoughts  hke  serpents  sting  my  soule  ; 

BHnde  love  beguiles  me  not,  sharpe  sighted  feares 

With  reason  fed,  doe  make  suspition  live  : 

Would  God  that  I  had  neither  eyes  nor  eares, 

Which  to  the  heart  intelligence  might  give ; 

This  aggravates  the  weight  of  my  despaire, 

When  doubt  objects  to  breake  loves  last  defence, 

How  he  is  yong  and  fierce,  she  yong  and  faire, 

He  to  oftend,  the  subject  to  offence; 

From  wronging  me,  both  cannot  long  abstaine  : 

Her  beauty  is  sufficient  to  allure, 

His  bravery  is  sufficient  to  obtaine. 

"  Captaines  will  force,  and  captives  must  endure. " 

O  Alexander,  tender  my  renowne. 

Though  thus  thou  travell  to  usurpe  my  throne, 

"  I  rage  to  have  a  rivall  in  my  crowne, 

"  But  in  my  love  I  can  comport  with  none  ;" 

That  boundlesse  flame  which  in  thy  bosome  boyles, 

If  quench' d  with  ought  save  bloud  (as  base)  I  blame  : 

My  fortunes  take,  but  spare  her  honours  spoiles, 

Which  not  thy  glory,  yet  must  breed  our  shame. 

But  pardon  deare  that  which  griev'd  thoughts  burst 

forth, 
More  bright  thy  fame,  that  darkened  is  my  state, 
"  By  many  meanes  men  may  approve  their  worth  : 
"  A  woman  onely  with  a  wretched  mate  : 
"  Chast  mindes  still  pure,  doe  then  most  firmly  stand, 
"  When  fortifi'd  with  wedlockes  sacred  band." 
Yet  let  me  doubt,  or  let  me  leave  to  love, 
*  "  Recurelesse. " — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  ii 

"  To  feare  the  worst  it  is  affections  part :" 

I  doubt  not  of  thy  truth  ;  yet  it  may  prove 

Thy  face  betray  thy  faith,  thy  hap  thy  heart ; 

But  on  thy  worth  my  confidence  relyes, 

This  doth  dissolve  suspitions  power  againe  ; 

I  will  repel  reports  as  sland'rous  lyes, 

Which  would  my  judgement,  or  thy  vertue  staine. 

Though  fortune  now  my  ruine  doth  designe. 

Yet,  with  that  traitresse  scorne  to  be  conjur'd, 

She  soone  may  helpe  her  fault,  thou  never  thine: 

"  No  helpe  for  honours  wounds,  all  else  are  cur'd." 

Chorus. 

"  O  more  then  miserable  minde, 

"  Which  of  all  things  it  selfe  worst  knowes  ! 

"  And  through  presumption  made  quite  blinde, 

"  Is  puffed  up  with  every  winde, 

"Which  fortune  in  derision  blowes. 

"  The  man  no  stable  blisse  can  finde, 

"  Whose  heart  is  guided  by  his  eye, 

"  And  trusts  too  much  betraying  showes, 

"  Which  make  a  cunning  lye  ; 

"  Oft  short  prosperity 

"  Breeds  long  adversity  : 
"  For,  who  abuse  the  first,  the  last  o'rethrowes. 

"  What  thing  so  good  which  not  some  harme  may 
bring?* 

"  Even  to  be  happy  is  a  dangerous  thing. 

•   "  A  dead  security,  all  care  exiles; 

Tis  no  small  danger  to  be  happy  whiles."— 1604. 


12  Stirling's  Poems. 

"  Who  on  himselfe  too  much  depends, 
"  And  makes  an  idoll  of  his  wit : 
"  For  every  favour  fortune  sends, 
"  Selfe-flatterer  still  himselfe  commends, 
"  And  will  no  sound  advice  admit, 
"  But  at  himselfe  begin  nes  and  ends, 
"  And  never  takes  a  moments  leisure 
"  To  try  what  fault  he  may  commit : 

"  But,  drunke  with  frothes  of  pleasure, 

"  Thirsts  for  praise  above  measure, 

"  Imaginary  treasure, 
"  Which  slowly  comes,  and  flyes  at  every  fit ; 

"And  what  is  most  commended*  at  this  time, 

"  Succeeding  ages  may  account  a  crime." 

A  mighty  man  who  is  respected. 
And  by  his  subjects  thought  a  god, 
Thinkes  as  his  name  on  high  erected, 
Hath  what  he  list  at  home  effected. 
It  may  like  wonders  worke  abroad, 
O  how  this  folly  is  detected  ! 
For,  though  he  sit  in  royall  seate, 
And  as  he  list  his  vassals  lode, 

Yet  others  who  are  great, 

Live  not  by  his  conceit, 

Nor  weigh  what  he  doth  threat, 
But  plague  his  pride  oft  ere  he  feare  the  rod; 

There  are  rare  qualities  requir'd  in  kings, 

"  A  naked  name  can  never  worke  great  things." 

•  "  Affected."— 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  '        1 3 

They  who  themselves  too  much  esteeme, 

And  vainely  vihpend  their  foe, 

Oft  finde  not  fortune  as  they  deeme, 

And  with  their  treasure  would  redeeme 

Their  errour  past;  behold  even  so 

Our  king  of  blame  doth  worthy  seeme, 

His  adversary  who  did  scorne 

And  thought  who  in  his  name  did  goe, 

The  laurell  should  have  worne, 

His  triumphs  to  adorne, 

But  he  with  shame  hath  shorne 
The  fruits  of  folly  ever  ripe  with  woe  : 

"  An  enemy  (if  it  be  well  advis'd) 

("  Though  seeming  weake,)  should  never  be  despis'd.'' 

But  what  ]  the  minions  of  our  kin2:s 
Who  speake  at  large,  and  are  beleev4:l, 
Dare  brag  of  many  mighty  things. 
As  they  could  flye,  though  wanting  wings. 
And  deeds  by  words  might  be  atchiev'd; 
But  time  at  length  their  lies  to  light, 
Their  soveraigne  to  confusion  brings  : 
Yet  so  they  gaine,  they  are  not  griev'd, 

But  charme  their  princes  sight. 

And  make  what 's  wrong  seeme  right, 

Thus  ruine  they  his  might : 
That  when  he  would,  he  cannot  be  reliev'd, 

"  Moe  kings  in  chambers  falls  by  flatteries  charms, 

"  Then  in  the  field  by  th'  adversaries  armes." 

Loe,  though  the  successe  hath  approv'd. 


1 4  Stirlifig's  Foeffis. 

What  Charidemus  had  fore-showne, 
Yet  with  his  words  no  man  was  mov'd, 
"  For  good  men  first  must  be  remov'd, 
"  Before  their  worth  can  well  be  known:" 
The  king  would  heare  but  what  he  lov'd, 
And  what  him  pleas'd  not,  did  despise, 
So  were  the  better  sort  o'rethrowne ; 

And  sycophants  un-\nse, 

Who  could  the  truth  disguise, 

Were  suffered  high  to  rise, 
That  him  who  rais'd  them  up,  they  might  cast  downe  : 

"  Thus  princes  will  not  heare,  though  some  deceive 
them, 

"  Things  as  they  are,  but  as  themselves   conceive 
them." 

^  ACT    II. 

Alexander,  Pannenio. 

Alex.  Behold,  the  heavens  with  a  benigne  aspect, 
To  prosper  this  brave  enterprise  intend, 
And  with  propitious  starres  seeme  to  direct 
This  great  beginning  to  a  glorious  end. 
"  Who  would  be  famous,  must  of  force  aspire," 
All  those  (astonish'd)  who  my  troupes  doe  view, 
Doubt  of  these  two,  which  most  they  should  admire. 
My  comming,  or  my  conquering  with  so  few ; 
"  So  mighty  mindes  whilst  for  great  actions  bent, 
"  Force  fortune  oft  to  favour  them  in  all, 
"  Where  brests  more  base  divining  bad  event, 
"  Through  superstitious  feares  procure  their  fall." 
O  how  I  wonder,  when  I  call  to  minde 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  15 

That  monstrous  campe,  which  not  so  much  as  doubted, 

Dimme  seem'd  the  sunne,  while  as  their  armour  shin'd, 

Men  had  not  heard  the  thunder,  whilst  they  shouted. 

Avant-couroures  advanced  to  examine. 

When  they  so  meane  my  numbers  had  perceiv'd, 

Did  thinke  them  small  to  satisfie  the  famine 

That  their  huge  host  of  slaughter  had  conceiv'd  : 

And  yet  in  end  this  prov'd  a  poyson'd  food, 

Which  of  their  owne  to  their  confusion  yeelds. 

Huge  mounts  of  murthered  corpes,  and  seas  of  bloud  : 

Unburied  bodies  buried  all  the  fields. 

So  now,  that  few  whom  they  contemned  so  farre, 

(See  how  mortality  it  selfe  deceives) 

Have  quite  o're-match'd  their  multitudes  in  warre ; 

And  made  the  world  neere  waste  to  people  graves. 

Then,  deare  Fanneiiio,  since  the  fates  afford 

So  faire  an  entry  to  our  first  designes, 

Let  us  goe  follow  (lantern'd  by  the  .sword),* 

That  fortune  which  the  heavens  our  hopes  assignes. 

Farm.  This  high  attempt,  as  we  would  wish  succeeds, 
What  hosts  have  we  o'rethrown,  what  cities  raz'd? 
Loe,  populous  Asia  trembles  at  our  deeds, 
And  martiall  Europe  doth  remaine  amaz'd; 
Greece,  (which  both  Ma7-s  and  Pallas  did  defend)  t 
A  humble  supplicant  before  thee  falles. 
Rebellious  T/icbes,  which  durst  with  thee  contend, 
Lyes  now  entomb'd  within  her  broken  walles; 
That  sea-commanding  Tyre,  reposing  much 

*   "  With  dint  of  sword."— 1604. 

+  "  Proud   Greece,    whose    spirits    oft   preast    to    skorne    the 
skyes. " — 1604. 


1 6  StirH}is:^s  Poems. 


A 


In  liquid  towers  that  Neptwie  rear'd  in  vaine, 

Hath  now  confirmed  thy  forces  to  be  such, 

That  nothing  can  resist  thy  just  disdaine. 

No  doubt  the  ancient  Grecians  ghosts  are  glad 

To  see  the  fierce  barbarians  brought  so  low, 

Yet  are  for  envy  of  thy  fortune  sad, 

And  though  un-bodied  blush  at  this  o'rethrow : 

Miltiadcs  by  all  men  was  admir'd. 

Who  once  in  Greece  their  flying  troupes  pursu'd, 

And  he  who  with  a  stratagem  retir'd, 

And  Salaminds  straits  with  bloud  imbru'd; 

But  yet  for  all  the  captain es  of  that  age, 

Tlie  easterne  monarches  empire  was  enlarg'd. 

Who  in  their  country  (flaming  all  with  rage). 

The  sea  with  shippes,  the  land  with  armies  charg'd ; 

He  with  moe  swarmes  of  men,  then  Autumnes  clusters, 

Dranke  rivers  dry,  and  march'd  on  Neptuiies  backe. 

By  measure,  not  by  number,  made  his  musters, 

Did  scourge  the  windes,  striv'd  mountaines  plaines  to 

make ; 
All  Europe  fear'd  then  to  be  forc'd  to  bow. 
Whilst  th'  earthe  did  groane  to  beare  so  great  an  host; 
But  thou  hast  come,  scene,  and  over-com'd  them  now, 
Even  in  the  bounds  wherein  their  povv'r  was  most. 
That  haughty  foe,  who  vilipended  oft 
Our  predecessors  force,  and  scorn'd  our  owne, 
Now  laid  as  low,  as  he  was  once  aloft. 
With  his  disgrace,  must  make  thy  valour  knowne; 
He  doth  by  this  acknowledge  his  distresse, 
In  labouring  thus  to  have  his  friends  restor'd, 
This  message  (mighty  prince)  imports  no  lesse. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  17 

By  his  request  thy  conquest  is  decor'd; 

For  the  recovery  of  his  captiv'd  queene, 

He  offred  hath  innumerable  gold; 

A  masse  so  great,  that  such  was  never  seene, 

More  (as  they  bragge)  then  Maccdon  can  hold : 

My  counsell  is,  that  you  accept  his  offers, 

And  with  his  daughters  render  her  againe, 

"  Who  would    make   warre,   must   not    have    empty 

coffers, 
"  Where  one  for  glory,  thousands  fight  for  gaine," 
And  if  those  ladies  guarded  captives  stay, 
It  cost  and  trouble  breeds  to  fit  their  state; 
Thus  more  to  charge,  or  charges  to  defray, 
To  vexe  or  ease,  advise,  and  not  too  late. 

Alex.  If  come  to  trafficke  in  a  servile  sort. 
And  like  a  merchant  bent  but  to  embrace 
(All  else  despis'd)  that  which  might  gaines  import, 
Then  your  opinion  purchase  might  a  place : 
But  soone  I  surfet  of  such  melting  things. 
And  famish  but  for  fame,  and  crownes  of  kings. 

Parm.  If  Alexander,  I,  so  would  I  doe. 

Alex.  If  I  Parmenio  were,  so  would  I  too. 

Parm.  So   you   binde   souldiers,   let   them    dames 
redeeme.* 

Alex.  Save  thankes,  or  praise,  no  treasure  I  esteeme. 

Parm.  Even  good  proves  ill  when  done  unto  a  foe. 

Alex.  What  greater  glory  then  to  conquer  so  % 

Parm.  Gold  is  the  god  that  conquers  in  all  parts. 

Alex.  True  magnanimity  doth  ravish  hearts. 

*   "  Parm.   Their  ran.some  would  defray  your  souldiers  fee. 

Alex.   I'le  rather  without  ransome  set  them  free." — 1604. 
VOL   II.  C 


1 8  Stirlmg's  Poems. 

Farm.  Warrs   sinewes    treasures   are    which    most 
not  faile. 

Alex.  Stout  brests,  strong  hands  (not  basely  given) 
prevaile 

Parm.  The  want  of  wages  makes  a  mutinous  band. 

Alex.  But  who  dare  disobey  when  I  command  % 

Parm.  Those  are   thought   fooles,   who   riches   do 
disdain. 

Alex.  A  gallant  minde  likes  glory  more  then  gaine. 

Parm.  But  who  delights  in  such  an  aiery  store? 

Alex.  If  I  be  singular,  I  seeke  no  more. 

Parm.  The  truth  by  princes  is  not  understood : 
But  yet  I  heare  your  soukliers  oft  exclaime, 
That  your  ambition  but  exhausts  their  bloud, 
Who  perish  all  to  purchase  you  a  name ; 
Yet  carelesse  what  they  lose,  so  you  may  winne, 
That   like   your   minde,   your   kingdome    may   want 
'  bounds, 

One  battels  end,  another  doth  beginne, 
Whilst  you  the  glory  gaine,  they  nought  but  wounds; 
Such  rash  reports  oft  blowne  in  every  eare, 
Doe  breed  base  grudge,  and  loftie  tumults  too, 
"  When  leaving  reverence,  duty,  love,  and  feare, 
"  What  dare  not  mutinous  troupes  attempt  to  doe  ? " 
Retire  in  time  while  as  the  heavens  are  cleare; 
You  have  perform'd,  perform'd,  and  that  even  soone. 
More  then   your  own  could  hope,  your  foes  could 

feare, 
Yea  (yet  more  strange)  then  some  can  trust,  though 

done; 
Your  worth  in  warre  (as  bright  as  glory)  showne, 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  19 

Which  even  by  envy  never  could  be  stain'd, 

Your  skill  in  peace  would  likewise  now  be  knovvne : 

Calm  vertue  guiding,  what  sterne  valour  gain'd : 

"  A  state  well  rul'd,  the  fame  of  kings  doth  raise, 

"  No  less  then  foughten  fields,  or  batter'd  townes. 

"  More  hard  it  is,  and  doth  deserve  more  praise 

"  To  guide,  then  get,  to  keep,  then  conquer  crownes." 

In  Fortunes  spheares  chiefe  height  your  glory  plac'd  : 

Can  now  not  move  unlesse  it  be  more  low, 

And  if  it  once  descend,  then  quite  disgrac'd, 

Each  artizan  your  statues  will  o' re-throw; 

For  in  the  warre,  as  you  may  well  perceive. 

There  doth  no  little  part  depend  on  fame; 

If  we  but  once  the  least  small  check  receive, 

The  world  will  gather  to  procure  our  shame ; 

Then  tempt  not  fortune  further  then  you  need, 

Your  rashly  mounting  thoughts  let  reason  raine. 

Lest  whil'st  your  hopes  with  trophees  fain'd  you  feed, 

A  moment  lose  what  many  dayes  did  gaine. 

Let  Darius  prove  all  monarchs  patterne  now 

(What   wand'ring   starre   doth    sway   the    course    of 

crownes) 
That  prince  to  whom  the  Orient  once  did  bow. 
Him  onely  now  his  misery  renownes, 
Scarce  mov'd  to  call   you   king,  though  twise    o're- 

throwne; 
At  last  to  match  with  you  he  doth  agree, 
And  with  his  daughter  hath  for  dowry  showne. 
That  great  Euphrates  shall  your  border  be ; 
Or  otherwise  he  condescends  to  give 
Great  store  of  gold,  or  what  your  selfe  desires, 


20  S/ir/ins^'s  Poems. 


■a 


If  that  his  mother,  wife,  and  children  live, 
To  have  them  rendred,  as  he  oft  requires: 
And  let  not  loftie  thoughts  cloud  reasons  eyes, 
Remember  what  strange  realmes  will  him  embrace, 
Which  scarce  he  knows  by  name,  nor  never  tryes, 
Where  if  he  fled,  your  troups  would  tyre  to  chace. 
Alex.  Peace,  peace,  Parmenio,  now  thou  mak'st  me 
rage, 
With  those  thy  words  not  worthy  of  our  eares; 
It  seemes  the  coldnesse  of  declining  age 
Hath  kill'd  thy  courage  with  a  frost  of  feares : 
Did  I  abandon  thee  my  native  soyle, 
And  made  my  ensignes  shadow  forraine  fields, 
As  fear'd  for  danger,  or  else  flying  toyle, 
That  I  should  turne  whil'st  yet  our  foe  not  yeelds? 
Then  all  my  labours  are  but  lost  at  last, 
Which  have  but  bred  an  appetite  of  praise. 
That  I  might  dye  displeas'd,  the  time  once  past, 
When  meanes  remain'd,  a  state  like  loves,  to  raise: 
No,  I  will  raigne,  and  I  will  raigne  alone,* 
Disdaining  to  admit  of  more  commanders  : 
For  (as  the  heavens  can  hold  no  sunne  but  one) 
The  earth  cannot  containe  two  Alexanders; 
The  spatious  circuit  of  this  peopled  round,+ 
Seemes  not  sufficient  to  confine  my  thought, 
And,  oh,  would  God  there  could  moe  worlds  be  found. 
That  many  might  to  grace  our  deeds  be  brought: 
Oh !  I  could  wish  that  th'  ocean  were  firm  land. 
Where  none  but  hideous  gyants  had  retreat, 

*  "  From  this  design  my  fancie  never  wanders." — 1604. 
+  "The  ample  circuit  of  this  spacious  round." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius, 


21 


Such  as  at  Phlegra  field  in  strife  did  stand 
Against  the  gods  for  the  etheriall  seat : 
These  could  encourage  martiall  mindes  to  strike, 
Who  when  subdu'd,  would  yeeld  eternall  praise. 
I  conquer  men,  but  many  did  the  like, 
And  after-ages  may  my  equall  raise: 
But  since  none  such  my  triumphs  are  to  grace, 
Such  as  there  are,  He  to  subjection  bring. 
And  as  a  pest,  I  vow  to  flie  all  peace,"" 
Till  all  the  world  adore  me  for  their  king: 
Let  them  retyre  in  time  who  danger  dread, 
Yet  thinke  on  this  (whilst  glory  bent  to  wed) 
That  ye  abandon'd  me  in  time  of  need. 
And  that  I  stay'd  to  fight  when  as  ye  fled ; 
Passe  home  in  darknesse,  servile  rest  to  finde, 
I  measure  not  my  courage  by  my  numbers. 

Farm.  Your  majestic  doth  much  mistake  my  mindc. 
You  know  what  I  endur'd,+  what  cares,  what  cumbers  : 
And  for  my  part,  I  to  your  eyes  appeale, 
Which  well  can  vvitnesse  what  my  hands  have  wrought. 
All  what  I  spake,  proceeded  of  cleare  zeale, 
And  not  of  cowardice,  or  feare  of  ought; 
Nor  match  I  vile  repose  with  honest  paines. 
My  courage  (oft-times  try'd)  is  not  grown  cold, 
Nor  yet  that  vigour  hath  not  left  my  veines. 
Which  spurr'd  my  sprite  in  youth,  though  I  be  old. 

Akx.  'Tis  not  enough,  that  you  your  selfe  be  so. 

To  be  the  same  you  should  the  rest  exhort; 

Is  he  return'd,  who  was  ordain'd  to  go 

*  "  And  here  I  sweare  no  kind  of  ease  t'  embrace." — 1604. 
t  "Thold."— 1604. 


2  2  Stirling'' s  Poems. 


<b 


And  view  the  captives?  what  doth  he  report? 

Parm.  As  we  have  heard  of  him  who  thither  went, 
While  they  as  yet  not  of  support  despair'd, 
And  courteously  were  led  unto  a  tent 
Which  we  of  purpose  caus'd  to  be  prepar'd: 
Even  in  the  way  one  fortun'd  there  to  spie 
The  diademe  which  Darius  ear'st  had  borne, 
(Though  glorious  once)  which  low  on  th'  earth  did  lye, 
As  earst  for  pompe,  then  wondred  at  with  scorne. 
Straight  they  imagin'd  from  his  royall  head, 
AVhose  dignity  it  sometime  did  decore, 
None  could  it  cast  except  himselfe  were  dead, 
And  if  so  were,  they  wish'd  to  live  no  more : 
When  they  had  entred  in  the  tent  to  weep. 
Your  servant  came,*  and  at  the  entry  knock'd, 
Who  (finding  them  so  quiet)  thought  a  sleep 
Had  clos'd  their  eyes,  or  else  that  he  was  mock'd, 
At  length  by  force  he  made  a  patent  way, 
And  was  advanc'd  them  lovingly  to  greet, 
When  (loe)  the  ladies  prostrated  all  lay, 
And  with  a  floud  of  teares  be-dew'd  his  feet. 
Then  said  (by  death  expecting  to  be  free) 
Let  us  entombe  great  Darius  like  a  king; 
Then  when  we  first  his  funerall  honour  see, 
Death  must  to  us  a  great  contentment  bring; 
This  oft  they  urg'd,  though  he  attested  there 
That  Darius  was  not  dead  (as  they  suppos'd). 
But  liv'd  with  hope,  his  mines  to  repaire. 
And  in  the  pow'r  of  other  realmes  repos'd. 
Then  did  he  urge  what  comfort  and  reliefe 
*  "  Leonatus  came." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  23 

They  might  attend,  depending  on  your  grace; 

Thus  having  toil'd  to  mitigate  their  griefe, 

It  seem'd  they  long'd  to  see  my  soveraignes  face. 

Alex.  I  pitie  still,  and  not  insult  o're  such, 
(Though  once  mine  enemies)  who  are  humbled  so; 
And  lest  weake  feare  oppresse  their  mindes  too  much, 
To  comfort  them,  straight  to  their  tent  Tie  go. 

[Exeunt. 

Chorus, 

"  Of  all  the  passions  which  possesse  the  soule, 

"  None  so  disturbes  vaine  mortals  mindes, 

"  As  vaine  ambition  which  so  blindes 

"  The  light  of  them,  that  nothing  can  controll, 

"  Nor  curb  their  thoughts  who  will  aspire ; 

"  This  raging  vehement  desire 

"  Of  soveraignty  no  satisfaction  findes, 

"  But  in  the  breasts  of  men  doth  ever  roule 

"  The  restlesse  stone  of  Sisyph  to  torment  them, 

"  And  as  his  heart  who  stole  the  heavenly  fire, 

"The  vulture  gnaws,  so  doth  that  monster  rent  them: 
"  Had  they  the  world,  the  world  would  not  content 
them." 

This  race  of  Ixion  to  embrace  the  clouds, 
Contemne  the  state  wherein  they  stand, 
And  save  themselves,  would  all  command; 
"  As  one  desire  is  quench'd,  another  buds," 
When  they  have  travell'd  all  their  time, 
Heapt  bloud  on  bloud,  and  crime  on  crime, 
There  is  an  higher  power  that  guides  their  hand: 


2  4  Stirling's  Poems. 

More  happie  he  whom  a  poore  cottage  shrouds 
Against  the  tempest  of  the  threatning  heaven ; 
He  stands  in  feare  of  none,  none  envies  him  ; 
His  heart  is  upright,  and  his  wayes  are  even, 
Where  others  states  are  still  twixt  six  and  seven. 

That  damned  wretch  up  with  ambition  blowne. 

Then  whil'st  he  turnes  the  wheele  about, 

Throwne  high,  and  low,  within,  without, 

In  striving  for  the  top  is  tumbling  downe. 

"  Those  who  delight  in  climbing  high, 

"  Oft  by  a  precipice  do  dye," 

So  do  the  starres  skie-climbing  worldlings  flout ; 

But  this  disease  is  fatall  to  a  crowne : 

Kings,  who  have  most,   would  most   augment   their 
bounds, 

And  if  they  be  not  all,  they  cannot  be, 

Which  to  their  damage  commonly  redounds, 
"The  weight   of  too  great  states  themselves  con- 
founds." 

"  The  mighty  toyling  to  enlarge  their  state, 

"  Themselves  exceedingly  deceive, 

"  In  hazarding  the  thing  they  have 

"  For  a  felicity  which  they  conceive; 

"  Though  their  dominions  they  encrease, 

"  Yet  their  desires  grow  never  lesse, 

"  For  though  they  conquer  much,  yet  more  they  crave, 

"  Which  fatall  fortune  doth  attend  the  great, 

"  And  all  the  outward  pompe  that  they  assume, 

"  Doth  but  with  shows  disguise  the  minds  distresse: 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  25 

"  And  who  to  conquer  all  the  earth  presume, 
"A  little  earth  shall  them  at  last  consume." 

And  if  it  fortune  that  they  dye  in  peace, 

(A  wonder  wondrous  rarely  seene) 

Who  conquer  first,  heavens  finde  a  meane 

To  raze  their  empire,  and  oft-times  their  race, 

Who  comming  to  the  crowne  with  rest, 

And  having  all  in  peace  possest, 

Do  straight  forget  what  bloudy  broyles  have  beene, 

Ere  first  their  fathers  could  attaine  that  place; 

"  As  seas  do  flow  and  ebb,  states  rise  and  fall, 

"  And  princes  when  their  actions  prosper  best, 

"  For   feare  their  greatnesse  should   oppresse  the 
small, 

"  As  of  some  hated,  envied  are  of  all." 

We  know  what  end  the  mighty  Cyrus  made, 

Whom  whil'st  he  striv'd  to  conquer  still, 

A  woman  (justly  griev'd)  did  kill, 

And  in  a  bloudy  vessell  roll'd  his  head. 

Then  said  (whil'st  many  wondring  stood) 

Since  thou  didst  famish  for  such  food. 

Now  quench  thy  thirst  of  bloud  with  bloud  at  will; 

Some  who  succeeded  him,  since  he  was  dead, 

Have  raign'd  a  space  with  pompe,  and  yet  with  paine, 

Whose  glory  now  can  do  to  us  no  good ; 

And  what  so  long  they  labour' d  to  obtaine. 

All  in  an  instant  must  be  lost  againe. 

Loe,  Darius  once  so  magnified  by  fame, 


26  Stirling's  Poems. 

By  one  whom  he  contemn'd  o're-come, 

For  all  his  bravery  now  made  dombe, 

With  down-cast  eyes  must  signifie  his  shame ; 

Who  puft  up  with  ostentive  pride, 

Thinke  fortune  bound  to  serve  their  side, 

Can  never  scape,  to  be  the  prey  of  some; 

Such  spend  their  prosp'rous  dayes,  as  in  a  dreame, 

And  as  it  were  in  fortunes  bosome  sleeping, 

Then  in  a  dull  security  abide, 

And  of  their  doubtfull  state  neglect  the  keeping, 
Whil'st  fearfull  ruine  comes  upon  them  creeping. 

Thus  the  vicissitude  of  worldly  things 

Doth  oft  to  us  it  selfe  detect. 

When  heavenly  pow'rs  exalt,  deject, 

Confirme,  confound,  erect,  and  ruine  kings. 

So  Alexander  mighty  now, 

To  whom  the  vanquish'd  world  doth  bow. 

With  all  submission,  homage,  and  respect. 

Doth  flie  a  borrow' d  flight  with  fortunes  wings; 

Nor  enters  he  his  dangerous  course  to  ponder; 

Yet  if  once  fortune  bend  her  cloudy  brow, 
All  those  who  at  his  sudden  successe  wonder, 
May  gaze  as  much  to  see  himselfe  brought  under. 


ACT    III.       SCENE    I. 

Sisigambis,  Statira  Regifia,  Statira  Virgo. 

Sis.  O  dismall  day  detested  be  thy  light, 
And  would  the  gods  (but  gods  neglect  our  case) 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  27 

The  world  were  wrapt  in  a  Cymmerian  night, 

That  no  proud  eye  might  gaze  on  our  disgrace. 

Why  did  the  heavens  reserve  my  feeble  age 

To  make  my  burden  more,  when  strength  grows  lesse  i 

Could  nothing  but  my  harmes  their  wrath  asswage, 

Thus  offred  up  on  th'  altar  of  distressed 

Ah !  have  I  spent  my  youth  in  pompe  and  pleasure, 

And  had  my  spring-time  grac'd  with  pleasant  flowres, 

That  th'  autumne  which  should  reape  the  sommers 

treasure 
Might  be  distempred  with  such  stormy  shoAvresI 
And  did  smooth  calmes  and  sunne-shines  for  a  space, 
Make  all  my  voyage  through  the  world  a  sport, 
That  I  should  fall  when  neere  to  end  my  race, 
(And  toss'd  with  stormes)  even  perish  at  my  port  ? 
Yet  for  all  this,  were  I  expos' d  alone, 
The  wretched  object  of  loves  thund'ring  armes, 
I  should  not  thinke  I  had  just  cause  to  mone, 
When  I  but  wail'd  mine  owne,  not  others  harmes; 
Ah  me!  on  those  whom  more  then  life  I  love 
The  state-disturbing  blasts  of  fortune  fall, 
Yet  each  of  them  some  severall  losse  doth  move, 
But  I  in  anguish  beare  a  part  with  all : 
I  suffred  when  I  saw  Oxatres  slaine, 
My  loving  sonne,  and  most  entirely  lov'd; 
I  dy'd  in  Darius.,  when  he  try'd  in  vaine 
What  fates  would  do,  yet  still  their  hatred  prov'd; 
The  heavens  to  plague  me  more,  yet  make  me  breath, 
O  rigour  rare!  what  tortures  rack  my  breast? 
Who  feel  the  sowre,  but  not  the  sweet  of  death. 
Still  cours'd,  not  kill'd,  lest  that  should  breed  me  rest ; 


28  Slirlinifs  Poems. 


>b 


Yet,  love,  if  this  may  dis-enflame  thine  ire, 
Let  all  thy  Hghtning  Hglit  upon  my  head, 
To  be  consura'd  with  a  celestiall  fire, 
Some  comfort  were,  since  that  I  must  be  dead. 

Stat.  Reg.  Leave,  mother,  those  complaints,  as  fit 
for  me, 
Who  still  must  grieve  my  friends,  and  grace  my  foes : 
Whose  fortune  is  so  wretched  still  to  be,* 
That  all  the  world  may  wonder  at  my  woes. 
Loe,  that  deare  lord  and  treasure  of  my  thought, 
Whose  presence  I  my  paradise  esteem'd, 
To  such  a  precipice  is  headlong  brought, 
That  he  from  ruine  cannot  be  redeem'd; 
Ah !  on  what  prop  can  I  repose  my  trust, 
When  of  his  state  I  first  the  greatnesse  ponder^ 
Next,  how  his  diademe  (drencht  in  the  dust) 
Was  fortunes  trophee,  and  all  Asia's  wonder] 
He  whose  imperious  speech  the  world  respected, 
And  as  an  oracle  had  in  regard, 
He  vanquish' d  now,  and  with  contempt  neglected, 
(Even  as  a  supplicant)  can  scarce  be  heard; 
And  yet  I  know  this  more  doth  grieve  his  soule 
Then  all  the  harme  which  happen'd  to  his  state, 
His  pow'r  ov'r  me  that  any  can  controull. 
Who  (as  his  idoll)  was  ador'd  of  late; 
Shall  he  (pure  quintessence  of  my  best  part) 
Then  onely  testifie  the  love  he  beares'? 
No,  by  mine  eyes  I  will  distill  my  heart. 
And  for  his  sake  dissolve  myselfe  in  teares; 

*  "  Whose  days  are  burdened  with  so  sad  events, 

That  hell  itself  may  of  my  torments  borrow." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  29 

Would  God  my  breast  might  still  transparant  be. 

That  as  through  crystall  all  might  marke  my  minde, 

And  of  my  loyall  thoughts  the  secrets  see, 

Whose  great  affection  cannot  be  confin'd. 

This  prisons  worst  hath  bounded  but  mine  eyes, 

And  banish'd  them  the  object  of  their  joy, 

My  fiery  heart  well  wing'd  with  fancies  flyes, 

And  where  thou  go'st  dost  still  thy  steps  convoy; 

Deare,  whil'st  thou  dost  enjoy  this  common  ayre, 

Those  who  me  captive  thinke,  do  grosly  erre : 

For  whil'st  thou  liv'st,  how  can  thy  queene  despaire,* 

Whom  thou  to  soule,  and  scepter,  dost  preferre; 

Yet  flatter  I  my  selfe  who  am  accurst  ? 

Of  those  mishaps  which  make  my  thoughts  to  stray, 

The  memory  may  serve  to  make  me  burst. 

Ah,  ah,  I  faint,  I  feele  my  spirits  decay. 

Sis.  Help,  help,  alas,  alas  the  empresse  falls. 

Stat.  Vir.  O  day  of  darknesse !  what  a  world  of  woes  \ 

Sis.  This  heavy  sight  my  panting  heart  appals : 
Heaven,  earth,  and  all,  are  now  become  our  foes. 

Stat.  Vir.  No  creature  hath  more  cause  -to  mone 
then  I. 
Whose  fathers  fortune  oft  afflicts  mine  eares, 
Whil'st  I  my  mothers  misery  must  spie, 

*  "  My  queene  is  such,  as  whilst  thou  drawst  this  aire, 
In  counting  captives  men  may  still  accept  her ; 
For  whilst  thou  liv'st,  how  can  my  spouse  despaire, 
Whom  thou  prefer'st  even  to  thy  crowne  and  scepter? 
Yet  flatter  I  myselfe  that  am  accurst, 
The  apprehension  which  with  grief  I  cherish 
Of  my  mishap,  may  serve  to  make  me  burst. 
Ah!  ah,  I  faint,  I  feele  my  spirits  perish."— 1604. 


30  Stirlhig''s  Poems. 

So  that  of  both,  my  breast  the  burden  beares. 
Stat.  Reg.  What  inhumane  humanity  is  this, 
With  such  a  cruell  pitie  to  oppresse, 
To  bring  pale  ghosts  back  from  the  fields  of  blisse, 
Yet  to  be  plung'd  in  th'  ocean  of  distressed 

0  unkinde  kindnesse  that  by  saving  slayes. 

And  would  with  lovelesse  love,  my  love  controull : 
Ah!  of  this  braving  sunne  the  loathsome  rayes 
Do  cleare  mine  eyes,  but  to  confounde  my  soule. 

Sis.  Deare  daughter,  strive  your  passions  to  restraine. 
Lest  that  the  torrent  of  your  griefe  grow  such, 
That  both  it  carry  you  where  horrours  raigne; 
And  him  o're-whelme  for  whom  you  mourn  so  much ; 
No  doubt  but  he,  if  we  rest  captives  thus 
Disdaining  those  indignities  of  ours. 
To  venge  himselfe  in  reobtaining  us, 
Will  hazard  all  his  orientall  pow'rs; 
But  ah,  what  comfort  can  a  wretch  afford, 
Whose  care-worne  breast  the  worst  of  woe  containes? 
Yet  though  my  heart  would  faine  impugne  my  word, 

1  hopelesse  speake  of  hope,  to  ease  her  paines. 

Stat.  Reg.  Plagu'd  with  what  is,  what  may  be  never 
pause. 
Since  we  must  hold  our  griefe  our  greatest  good, 
And  do  not  feed  false  hopes,  for  we  have  cause 
Even  to  sigh  out  our  souls,  and  weep  our  bloud. 

Sis.  I  waile  my  sonne. 

Stat.  Reg.  And  I  my  husbands  fall. 

Stat.  Vir.  I  waile  my  father,  and  in  him  us  all. 

Sis.  No  woe  like  mine,  mine  cannot  be  releev'd. 
I  waile  his  woe  who  should  my  woe  asswage, 


The  Tragedy  of  Dar lies .  31 

Who  lives  by  me,  by  whom  I  should  have  Hv'd, 
Sport  of  my  youth,  and  pillar  of  mine  age. 

Stat.  Reg.   No  woe  like  mine,  who  for   my  mate 
mourne  here, 
For  love  of  whom,  I  had  all  others  left ; 
But  what  a  mate?  my  selfe,  or  one  more  deare, 
Yet  from  my  selfe,  my  selfe  by  force  am  reft. 

Stat.  Vir.   No  woe  like  mine,  who  born  a  monarchs 
childe, 
Hop'd  by  my  birth  of  fortunes  best  to  boast. 
Yet  are  my  hopes  even  at  the  height  beguil'd, 
And  what  I  hop'd  in  most,  hath  harm'd  me  most. 
Sis.   I  mourne   for   him  who   in  my  wombe   was 

form'd. 
Stat.  Reg.  I  mourn  for  him  in  whom  love  me  trans- 
form'd. 
Stat.  Vir.  I  mourn  for  him  who  did  give  forme  to 

me. 
Sis.  Shall  I  no  more  in  him  my  image  see? 
Stat.  Reg.  Ah!  shall  I  never  in  his  joy  rejoice? 
Stat.  Vir.  Ah !  shall  I  never  heare  his  chearfull  voyce? 
Sis.  Would  God  my  ruine  might  his  ransome  be. 
Stat.  Reg.  Would  God  my  life  my  lifes  life  might  set 

free. 
Stat.    Vir.    Would   God   the  life  he  gave  him  life 

might  give.  « 

Sis.  Must  those  gray  haires  my  sonnes  greene  youth 

survive  ? 
Stat.  Reg.  Lest  twise  made  dye,  I'le  first  prevent 

his  fall. 
Stat.  Vir.  Shall  I  live  last  to  suffer  for  you  all? 


32  Stirling's  Poems. 

Sis.  But  whil'st  our  wretched  state  we  justly  mone, 
We  may  lament  this  infant  too  a  space, 
Who  in  mishap  inferiour  were  to  none, 
If  he  could  apprehend  his  tragicke  case. 

Stat.  Reg.  O  then  how  can  my  heart  but  bursted  be, 
Whom  nature  moves  most  to  bemone  his  harmes? 
I  thinke  the  hosts  of  heaven  I  thund'ring  see 
On  me.  my  husband,  and  him  in  my  amies : 
Deare  image  of  my  selfe,  in  whom  I  live, 
Thy  shape  not  shames  the  greatnesse  of  thy  sire, 
But  of  thy  birth  cleare  evidence  doth  give, 
Thy  sowre-sweet  sight  adds  coals  to  my  desire. 
Thou  who  should'st  comfort  most,  torment'stthou  me? 
Huge  hosts  of  passions  now  my  soule  assembles ; 
O  how  I  grieve,  and  yet  am  glad  to  see 
Thee,  though  not  him,  whom  thy  sweet  face  resembles! 
Go  beare  this  babe  from  hence,  a  wound  too  deep 
Hath  pierc'd  me  with  compassion  of  his  part. 
Yet  let  him  stay,  I  joy  to  heare  him  weep; 
This  mothers  passion  melts  my  bursting  heart : 
Of  many  woes  this  last  is  not  the  least, 
That  unbegun  thy  glory  thus  must  end : 
Thy  fortunes  sunne  (my  sonne)  set  in  the  east, 
Whil'st  all  the  world  thy  rising  did  attend; 
Ah !  must  this  innocent  taste  of  mishap, 
Whose  tender  age  cannot  discerne  his  state. 
And  thus  be  plagu'd,  yea,  in  his  nurses  lap, 
Inherit  woe  by  birth  1  ah,  cruell  fate! 
If  thou  could'st  hope,  what  great  hopes  hast  thou  lost, 
Who  art  defrauded  of  so  high  a  throne  1 
Ah!  in  thy  cradle  must  I  see  thee  crost 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  33 

Whom  I  design'd  so  great  when  we  were  gone? 

Yet  happie  haj^lesse  childe,  who  can'st  not  know 

From  whence  the  fountaine  of  our  sorrow  flows, 

Nor  what  it  is  that  men  call  high,  or  low, 

Nor  on  what  thorne  the  rose  of  honour  grows. 

Yet  hast  thou  felt  the  pricke  before  the  smell; 

Is  this  the  benefit  thy  birth-right  brings, 

A  captive  here  in  misery  to  dwell? 

Then  better  not  be  borne,  nor  come  of  kings. 

O!  what  a  noise  is  this  that  thus  affrights? 

I  thinke  of  teares  the  torrent  to  restraine, 

(Since  soules  when  sad  a  just  complaint  delights) 

They  still  would  plague,  yet  stop  me  to  complaine ; 

Or  is  it  one  who  doth  lament  our  case, 

And  is  (a  rare  thing)  in  affliction  kinde? 

Who  would  behold  how  we  can  death  embrace ! 

Death  soveraigne  physicke  for  a  troubled  minde. 

Sis.  By  many  signes  we  may  our  selves  assure 
T'is  Alexander  whom  we  long'd  not  for. 

Stat.  Reg.   What?  ah  I   die,  and  must  mine  eyes 
endure 
That  hatefull  object  which  I  most  abhorre? 

Sis.  Spare,  spare   such   speeches   now,  lest  all  go 
wrong, 
We  are  environ'd  with  outragious  hosts; 
Those  who  are  weake  must  yeeld  unto  the  strong: 
For,  victors  rage  when  as  the  vanquish'd  hosts ; 
I  will  entreat  him  too,  not  for  my  selfe 
(Age  bows  my  body  to  embrace  pale  death) 
But  that  you  yet  may  shunne  this  wrackfuU  shelfe, 
Whose  youth  and  beauty  worthy  are  of  breath. 

VOL.    II.  D 


34  Stirling's  Poems. 


ACT   III.      SCENE    II. 

Alexander,  Sisigambis,  Sfatira  Regina,  Hephestion. 

Alex.  Rise  mother,  rise,  and  calme  those  needlesse 
cares, 
I  come  to  cure,  not  to  procure  your  woe; 
The  duty  which  I  owe  those  silver  haires. 
Doth  grieve  my  minde  to  see  you  humbled  so. 

Sis.  Most  gracious  prince,  forgive  me  if  I  err'd 
In  taking  him  for  you,  who  stands  you  by. 

Alex.  I  finde  no  fault  to  see  my  friend  preferr'd, 
Even  to  my  selfe;  this  is  another  I. 

Sis.  My  sorrows  so  confounded  have  my  minde 
That  scarce  I  know  my  selfe,  another  lesse; 
My  soule  in  such  an  agony  I  iinde, 
As  words,  not  teares,  nor  grones  cannot  expresse. 

Alex.  I  pray  you,  mother,  set  those  plaints  apart. 
They  vex  me  more  than  sterne  Bellona' s  broils. 

Sis.  This    tender   name    of    mother   wounds    my 
heart, 
Whil'st  nam'd  by  him,  who  of  that  name  me  spoils: 
I  was  (woe  that  I  was)  a  mother  late 
Of  two  faire  sonnes  (faire  sunnes)  lights  of  my  life, 
But  one  is  dead,  and  in  a  worse  estate, 
The  other  lives,  involv'd  in  woe,  and  strife. 
Like  to  the  trunke  of  some  disbranched  tree 
Which  y-Eoliis  hath  to  confusion  brought, 
Since  spoil'd  of  those  brave  impes  which  sprung  from 

me 
Unprofitable  stock,  I  serve  for  nought. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  35 

Stat.  Reg.  I  serve  for  nought,  since  serving  him  no 
more, 
Who  onely  may  my  blasted  hopes  revive, 
Loe  (quite  confounded)  farre  from  what  before, 
Who  him  of  me,  me  of  my  selfe  deprive. 'j 
I  Hve  without  my  halfe,  without  my  whole. 
Prodigious  monster,  whom  the  world  admires, 
I  want  the  point,  the  pilot,  and  the  pole 
Which  drew,  addrest,  and  bounded  my  desires. 
Toss'd  by  sad  sighs  in  flouds  of  bitter  teares, 
I  (save  from  ruine)  look  for  no  reliefe, 
By  what  I  feele  still  plagu'd,  but  worse  with  feares, 
All  comfort  loath'd,  my  glory  is  my  griefe : 
My  soule  seems  to  presage  disastrous  chances. 
And  warring  with  it  selfe  hath  never  peace, 
My  heart  surcharg'd  doth  faint  in  deadly  trances, 
My  eyes  must  grace  the  ground  of  my  disgrace. 
Hell  hath  assembled  all  her  horrours  here ; 
Ah !  in  the  dungeons  of  this  desp'rate  brest. 
As  in  the  dark  Tartarian  groves,  appeare 
A  thousand  shadows  to  bereave  my  rest. 

Alex.  Faire  princesse,  spare  those  passionate  com- 
plaints. 
Which  may  augment,  but  not  amend  your  harmes; 
This  voice  which  with  your  woe  the  world  acquaints, 
Doth  move  me  more  then  all  the  Persians  armes. 
Take  courage  (madam)  be  afraid  of  none; 
That  you  may  hope  what  help  I  can  afford, 
I  sweare  by  loves  inviolable  throne, 
And  do  protest  by  my  imperiall  word; 
Though  for  a  while  barr'd  from  your  royall  seat, 


36  Stirling's  Poems. 

You  compass'd  here  with  troups  of  strangers  stand ; 

Yet  shall  you  still  be  us'd  as  fits  your  state, 

And  may  (as  earst  in  your  owne  court)  command. 

Stat.  Reg.  Ah!  how  can  I  command  whil'st  I  am 
thrall? 
What  can  I  have,  who  wanting  one,  want  all? 

Alex.  Though  brave  it  seeme  in  some  proud  victors 
sight, 
To  plague  their  captives,  and  triumph  in  ill : 
The  larger  grow  the  limits  of  my  might, 
The  more  I  labour  to  restraine  my  will. 
What  can  be  fear'd  by  them  whom  I  defend? 
Foes  have  not  pow'r,  and  who  with  me  remaine, 
They  dare  not  wrong,  nor  offer  to  offend 
The  least  in  ranke  who  doth  attend  your  traine; 
If  any  would  impugne  what  I  appoint, 
Or  would  in  ambush  for  your  honour  lye, 
Or  discontent  you  but  in  any  point. 
As  Alexander  lives,  that  wretch  shall  dye. 

Stat.  Reg.  O  what  an  host  of  evils  where  ere  I  go 
Are  still  encroaching  to  o're-throw  my  state? 
Ah !  must  I  be  beholding  to  my  foe. 
And  owe  him  love,  to  whom  my  love  owes  hate? 
Should  he  help  me  who  still  his  ruine  plyes? 
Heavens  curse  my  heart,  if  stain' d  with  treason  thus, 
Let  death  in  darknesse  first  entombe  mine  eyes, 
Ere  such  a  sight  accepted  be  by  us. 
I  (lord)  am  thine,  and  thine  I  will  remaine. 
Thy  love  was  planted  in  a  fertile  field. 
Which  gratefull  now  thee  to  reward  againe 
From  flourish'd  faith  chast  flames  for  fruits  doth  yeeld. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  37 

Yet  doth  misfortune  this  good  fortune  bring, 
My  constancy  shall  now  be  clearly  knowne; 
Another  might  have  lov'd  an  happie  king : 
But  I  will  love  thee,  though  thou  be  o're-throwne, 

Alex.  I  labour  much  to  comfort  in  some  measure 
This  grieved  queene,  that  was  a  monarch's  choice, 
Whose  woe  doth  make  my  victory  no  pleasure. 
For  whil'st  she  mournes,  I  cannot  well  rejoyce. 

Sis.  Most  mighty  king  thou  dost  deserve  indeed. 
That  (as  for  Darius)  we  should  pray  for  thee, 
Who  do'st  so  much  in  clemency  exceed, 
That  thou  bewail'st  our  losse,  no  lesse  then  he; 
Not  onely  thou  surmount' st  all  other  kings, 
In  glory  rising  from  thy  labours  gone ; 
And  for  those  benefits  which  fortune  brings, 
But  in  all  vertues  worthy  of  a  throne ; 
Thou  do'st  vouchsafe  on  me  (more  then  I  crave) 
The  title  of  a  queene,  and  mother  still, 
But  I  confesse  my  selfe  thy  humble  slave. 
Whose  life  hath  now  no  limits  but  thy  will : 
The  dreamed  good,  that  greatnesse  gave,  forgot, 
My  count'nance  shall  be  free  from  clouds  of  cares, 
And  rie  allow  of  this  my  present  lot. 
As  one  who  for  my  fate  my  force  prepares ; 
Yea,  if  this  wofull  woman  here  were  free, 
Who  hath  no  heaven  except  her  husbands  face ; 
I  could  content  my  selfe  (great  prince)  to  be 
The  meanest  hand-mayd  that  attends  your  grace. 

Alex.  As  if  your  sonnes,  command  all  that  is  mine,* 
And  I  will  seek  to  second  your  desire. 

*  "You  may  command  me,  as  I  were  your  sonne. " — 1604. 

^  b  »J^  1  J 


38  Stirling's  Poems. 

Sis.  Heavens  recompense  this  courtesie  of  thine, 
Which  in  all  ages  thousands  shall  admire. 

Alex.  Those  captiv'd  princesses  have  pierc'd  my 
soul, 
Which  even  amid'st  our  heaven,  have  found  a  hell. 

Hep.  His  passions  so  what  stoick  could  controull, 
Whom  now  to  weep,  their  teares  would  not  compel!? 
What  age  could  earst  such  stately  beauties  show, 
Which  of  perfection  hold  the  highest  place, 
And  borne  to  bring,  though  now  they  be  brought  low, 
Do  beauty  beautifie,  give  griefe  a  grace? 
Sir,  such  a  victory  hath  not  beene  seene 
As  you  have  gain'd,  since  conquering  (as  appeares) 
The  largest  kingdome,  and  the  fairest  queene. 
That  Asia  vaunted  of,  these  many  yeares. 
Durst  Ledds,  or  Agenors  brood  compare 
With  that  sweet  queene,  the  honour  of  her  kinde? 
But  as  she  is  above  all  others  faire, 
As  farre  her  daughters  make  her  go  behinde ; 
It  seem'd  at  first  that  sorrow  had  beene  sleeping. 
Then   whil'st   those   virgins    in    their    grand  -  dames 

bosome, 
With  weeping  beauty,  and  with  beauteous  weeping, 
Did  with  a  haile  of  pearle,  blast  beauties  blossome : 
So  large  a  pow'r,  no  prince  on  earth  can  have, 
As  hath  loves  empire  in  their  face  confin'd. 

Alex.  What,  what,  Hephestio7i,  what  doth  thee  de- 
ceive % 
Dare  folly  seeke  to  bragge  so  brave  a  minde? 
Dare  Cupid  enter  in  an  armed  camp, 
And  them  who  Mars  have  match'd  for  sport  appall? 


The  Tragedy  of  Darhis.  39 

Must  his  soft  seale  even  through  hard  metall  stamp, 

And  make  who  conquer  men,  to  women  thrall? 

Hep.  We  dare  resist  (whil'st  iriany  a  thousand  dyes) 

The  steely  tempests  of  a  world  of  men, 

But  if  from  yvorie  orbes  two  sunnie  eyes 

Do  charge  the  soule  (I  know  not  how)  O  then 

A  secret  pow'r  (compos'd  of  hopes  and  feares) 

So  charms  the  minde,  that  it  strange  thoughts  con- 
ceives, 

And  straight  the  heart  (quaff'd  drunke  by  th'  eyes  and 
th'  eares), 

Doth  staggring  reele,  and  full  of  fancies  raves. 
Alex.  But  yet,  in  my  conceit,  I  scorne  all  such, 

And  do  disdaine  to  yeeld  my  selfe  at  all ; 

Yea,  in  that  sort  to  bow  I  loath  so  much, 
Let  rather  Mars  then  Cupid  make  me  fall : 

Should  I  be  bound  with  fraile  affections  chains, 

As  one  oblivious  of  my  former  fame? 
No,  no,  this  purpose  still  my  soule  retaines. 
To  ballance  nothing  with  a  noble  name ; 
O  !  what  a  great  indignity  is  thisi 
To  see  a  conquerour  to  his  lust  a  slave ! 
"  Who  would  the  title  of  true  worth  were  his, 
"  Must  vanquish  vice,  and  no  base  thoughts  conceive : 
"  The  bravest  trophee  ever  man  obtain' d 
"  Is  that,  which  ov'r  himselfe,  himselfe  hath  gain'd." 
Hep.  I'm  glad  (my  soveraigne)  that  as  you  excell, 
Not  onely  men,  but  Mars  himselfe  in  armes, 
That  from  your  minde,  you  likewise  may  repell 
The  flatt'ring  pow'r  of  loves  alluring  charmes, 
That  vertue  rare,  whose  rayes  shine  in  your  words, 


40  Stirling's  Poems. 

With  generous  ardour  doth  enflame  my  soule, 
And  o're  my  selfe  to  me  such  pow'r  affords, 
That  some  brave  deeds  must  straight  this  course  con- 
troule. 


ACT    III.       SCENE    III. 

Bessus,  Narbazanes. 

Bes.  Narbazanes,  now  ere  the  time  be  gone, 
Let  us  accomphsh  that  which  we  intend, 
And  joyne  our  wit,  our  force,  and  all  in  one, 
(Ere  known  begun)  that  it  may  quickly  end : 
You  see  th'  occasion  (if  our  course  we  keepe) 
To  raise  rare  fortunes,  points  us  out  the  way, 
Yea,  blames  our  sluggishnesse  that  as  a  sleepe. 
So  great  a  purpose  doe  so  long  delay. 
Loe,  angry  love  our  princes  part  disproves : 
For,  fortunes  worst  whatever  he  attempt 
From  following  him,  the  peoples  minde  removes : 
"  Distresse  still  is  attended  by  contempt," 
A  ground  for  so  great  hopes  who  ere  did  see, 
As  heavens  so  happily  breed  in  our  mind. 
For,  since  our  king  confounded  is  to  be. 
We  by  his  fall,  a  meanes  to  rise  may  finde. 

Nar.  I  will  most  willingly  performe  my  part, 
For,  I  the  same  exceedingly  allow : 
Deare  wealth  and  honour,  idols  of  my  heart, 
If  you  I  may  enjoy,  I  care  not  how; 
Yet  that  this  course  may  best  be  kept  obscure. 
Our  care  must  seeme  all  for  our  country  bent ; 
"  When  mask'd  with  zeale,  crimes  are  reputed  pure, 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  41 

"  A  shew  of  good  doth  vulgar  mindes  content, 

"  In  dangerous  plots  where  courage  joynes  with  art, 

"  Let  slow  advice,  a  quicke  dispatch  be  us'd  : 

"  What  can  (save  successe)  justifie  our  part, 

"  Who  must  command,  or  come  to  be  accus'd  ]" 

Bes.  To  Alexander  one  was  sent  of  late, 
To  speake  of  peace,  whose  speech  was  spent  in  vaine, 
So  that  (thus  toss'd)  most  desp'rate  is  his  state, 
Who  peace  cannot  obtaine,  nor  warre  maintaine; 
To  cleare  his  thoughts  which  many  doubts  doe  sway, 
He  now  craves  each  mans  minde  who  squadrons  leads  ; 
This  for  our  purpose  must  prepare  the  way : 
"  Those  who  would  compasse  kings,  need  crafty  heads:" 
And  that  to  gaine  which  we  so  much  esteeme, 
We  can  upon  no  meanes  more  safe  conclude, 
Then  crooked  counsels  that  doe  upright  seeme 
To  maske  ourselves,  and  others  to  delude; 
He  must  (advis'd  by  some)  renounce  a  space 
The  shew  of  pow'r,  and  from  affaires  retire, 
That  for  a  fashion  one  may  use  his  place. 
Not  as  usurp'd,  but  at  his  owne  desire : 
So  may  he  try  if  others  can  bring  backe 
That  which  his  fortunes  ebbe  hath  borne  away, 
Then  he  againe  his  diadem  shall  take. 
And  (as  before)  the  regall  scepter  sway. 

Nar.  Well,  then  amongst  our  selves  to  flye  debate, 
Which  such  great  actions  oft-times  under-mines, 
I  yeeld  that  you  possesse  the  highest  seat. 
And  will  my  faction  frame  for  our  designes. 

Bes.  All  that  is  one,  which  of  us  two  receive  it. 
Since  every  thing  doth  equally  belong  us, 


42  Stirling^ s  Poems. 

rie  take  it  for  the  forme,  'tis  one  who  have  it, 
For  we  will  part  his  kingdomes  all  among  us. 
But  if  he  condescend  to  this  we  crave, 
To  judgements  rash,  which  would  at  first  seeme  good, 
Let  him  not  thinke  us  two  such  fooles  to  leave,       ^ 
That  which  so  many  else  have  bought  with  bloud; 
"  Who  once  advanc'd,  would  willingly  goe  downe, 
"  And  (prop'd  with  pow'r,)  not  love  in  state  to  standi 
"  This  not  the  custome  is  to  quite  a  crowne, 
"  When  one  hath  knowne  how  sweet  it's  to  command ; 
"  This  name  of  faitli  but  to  get  credit  fain'd, 
"  Is  (weigh'd  with  kingdomes)  lighter  then  a  crowne, 
"  And  even  in  them  whose  thoughts  are  most  restrain'd, 
"  A  scepters  weight  would  presse  all  goodnesse  down." 
Nar.  Yet  of  my  thoughts  some  doubt  new  counsell 
claimes,* 
And  with  huge  horrour  aggravates  disgrace : 
The  staine  of  treason  still  attends  our  names, 
And  with  our  errour  burdens  all  our  race ; 
Our  purpose  must  accomplish'd  be  with  paine, 
And  we  (though  pompe  a  space  appease  our  soules) 
Shall  finde  afflictions  to  disturbe  our  raigne, 
And  be  when  dead,  defam'd  by  famous  scroules, 
The  sacred  title  of  a  soveraigne  king 
Doth  worke  a  terrour  more  then  can  be  thought, 
And  majestic  to  brave  my  minde  doth  bring, 
Whose  count'nance  only  strange  effects  hath  wrought. 

*  "  Yet  to  betray  our  king  we  have  no  reason ; 

When  I  muse  on  th'  attempt  it  makes  me  sorrie, 
Our  name  stain'd  with  this  odious  stile  of  treason 
Shall  leave  our  successors  more  shame  then  glorie." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  43 

Bes.  To  idle  sounds  and  frivolous  reports, 
Give  straight  a  passport,  for  they  last  not  long, 
And  what  thou  do'st  alledge,  not  much  imports : 
"  A  crowne  may  cover  any  kinde  of  wrong; 
"  What  hainous  thing  so  odious  is  by  nature, 
"  Which  for  a  kingdome  not  committed  is  % 
"  To  be  a  king,  let  me  be  call'd  a  traitour, 
"  Faith  (if  for  ought)  may  broken  be  for  this. 
"  Those  are  but  feeble  braines  which  fancies  loade, 
"  With  timorous  dreams  which  bare  surmising  brings ; 
"  Who  feare  vaine  shadowes,  must  not  walke  abroad, 
"  Too  warie  wits  dare  never  worke  great  things." 
If  our  brave  project  happily  succeed, 
(As  now  I  doubt  not  but  it  shall  doe  soone) 
We  straight  will  numbers  finde  to  praise  our  deed. 
And  sooth  us  up  in  all  that  we  have  done. 

Nar.  Now  that  the  time  and  manner  may  be  sure, 
The  Bactrian  bands  shall  all  attend  in  amies, 
Yet  faine  a  cause  that  he  may  live  secure, 
And  be  surpris'd  not  looking  for  alarmes. 
Then  through  the  carape  a  rumour  must  be  spread. 
That  hopelesse  Darius  hath  despair'dly  gone. 
By  violence  to  dwell  amongst  the  dead, 
Which  (as  much  griev'd)  we  must  appeare  to  mone: 
The  Persians  may  with  promises  be  pleas'd, 
So  to  disarme  him  of  his  native  pow'rs, 
Then  taking  him,  our  thoughts  may  all  be  eas'd, 
For  whir  St  he  is  his  owne,  we  are  not  ours; 
Till  strong  with  titles,  we  with  pow'r  command. 
His  shadow  shrouds,  while  rights  are  forc'd,  or  fain'd, 
And  his  to  daunt,  or  strangers  to  gaine-stand, 


44  Stirling's  Poems. 

To  raise  our  state,  his  shew  must  be  maintain'd. 

To  Alexander  after  we  will  send, 

And  offer  him  his  foe  to  bondage  brought, 

Then  crave  that  us  his  favour  may  defend, 

As  those  who  all  things  for  his  good  have  wrought ; 

Then  if  we  thus  his  grace  cannot  procure, 

But  that  he  us  with  rigour  doe  pursue, 

With  Darius  death  we  will  our  states  assure, 

Then  first  our  force,  and  next  the  warres  renue, 

Bes.  Let  us  hence-forth  for  nothing  be  dismaid, 
But  strive  our  selves  couragiously  to  beare. 
This  dangerous  action  would  not  be  delay'd, 
Least  time  make  him  to  doubt,  and  us  to  feare. 

[^Exeunt. 

Chorus. 

Time,  through  loves  judgement  just. 

Huge  alterations  brings : 

Those  are  but  fooles  who  trust 

In  transitory  things. 

Whose  tailes  beare  mortall  stings. 

Which  in  the  end  will  wound ; 

And  let  none  thinke  it  strange, 

Though  all  things  earthly  change : 

In  this  inferiour  round 

What  is  from  ruine  free? 

The  elements  which  be 

At  variance  (as  we  see) 

Each  th'  other  doth  confound  : 

The  earth  and  ayre  make  warre, 

The  fire  and  water  are 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  45 

Still  ^vrestling  at  debate, 

All  those  through  cold  and  heat. 

Through  drought  and  moisture  jarre. 

What  wonder  though  men  change  and  fade, 
Who  of  those  changing  elements  are  made  \ 

How  dare  vaine  worldlings  vaunt 

Of  fortunes  goods  not  lasting, 

Evils  which  our  wits  enchant : 

Expos'd  to  losse  and  wasting! 

Loe,  we  to  death  are  hasting, 

Whil'st  we  those  things  discusse  : 

All  things  from  their  beginning, 

Still  to  an  end  are  running, 

Heaven  hath  ordain'd  it  thus ; 

We  heare  how  it  doth  thunder, 

We  see  th'  earth  burst  asunder. 

And  yet  we  never  ponder 

What  this  imports  to  us : 

Those  fearefuU  signes  doe  prove, 

That  th'  angry  pow'rs  above 

Are  mov'd  to  indignation 

Against  this  wretched  nation, 

Which  they  no  longer  love : 

What  are  we  but  a  puffe  of  breath 

Who  live  assur'd  of  nothing  but  of  death  \ 

Who  was  so  happy  yet 
As  never  had  some  crossed 
Though  on  a  throne  he  sit, 
And  is  not  us'd  with  losse. 


46  Stirlmg's  Poems. 

Yet  fortune  once  will  tosse 
Him,  when  that  least  he  would; 
If  one  had  all  at  once, 
Hydaspes  precious  stones, 
And  yellow  Tagus  gold; 
The  orientall  treasure, 
And  every  earthly  pleasure, 
Even  in  the  greatest  measure, 
It  should  not  make  him  bold : 
For  while  he  lives  secure. 
His  state  is  most  unsure ; 
When  it  doth  least  appeare, 
Some  heavy  plague  drawes  neare. 
Destruction  to  procure. 

Worlds  glory  is  but  like  a  flowre, 

Which  both  is  bloom'd,  and  blasted  in  a  houre. 

In  what  we  most  repose, 
We  finde  our  comfort  light. 
The  thing  we  soonest  lose 
That's  precious  in  our  sight; 
For  honour,  riches,  might, 
Our  lives  in  pawne  we  lay; 
Yet  all  like  flying  shadowes. 
Or  flowers  enamelling  meadowes, 
Doe  .vanish  and  decay. 
Long  time  we  toile  to  finde 
Those  idols  of  the  minde, 
Which  had,  we  cannot  binde 
To  bide  with  us  one  day : 
Then  why  should  we  presume 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  47 

I 
On  treasures  that  consume, 

Difificult  to  obtaine, 

Difificult  to  retaine, 

A  dream,  a  breath,  a  fume  % 

Which  vexe  them  most,  that  them  possesse, 
Who  starve  with  store,  and  famish  with  excesse. 


ACT   IV.      SCENE   I. 

Darius,  Tiriotes. 

Tir.  Ah !  must  I  poyson  now  my  princes'  eares, 
With  newes  the  worst  that  ever  burden' d  fame : 
Had  I  as  many  tongues  as  I  have  teares, 
All  would  not  serve  my  sorrowes  to  proclaime. 

Dar.  Great  signes  of  griefe  I  in  thy  face  discerne, 
And  spare  not  to  report  this  heavie  crosse 
To  one  (I  feare)  whome  it  doth  most  concerne: 
Is't  death,  disgrace,  destruction,  treason,  losse'? 
Tell  on  the  summe  of  horrour  at  the  first : 
With  no  ambiguous  words  my  paine  prolong : 
"  A  wretch  for  comfort  craves  to  know  the  worst," 
And  I  have  learn' d  to  be  unhappy  long; 
What  least  I  speake,  and  yet  suspect  too  much, 
Art  thou  the  trumpet  to  proclaime  my  scorne,* 
Which  must  wound  me  %  (but  ah)  no  torment  such 
As  this  to  her  who  that  disgrace  hath  borne. 

Tir.  She  was  not  wrong'd,  as  you  have' wrong  con- 
ceiv'd; 
The  Gods  from  harme  did  study  to  preserve  her; 
•  "  I'st  some  ludibrious  message  of  my  skorne." — 1604. 


48  S/ir/if/g's  Poems. 

She  from  your  foe  such  favour  hath  receiv'd, 

As  from  her  subjects  who  were  bound  to  serve  her ; 

But  what  a  volly  doth  my  voyce  prepare 

Of  woes  to  charge  your  eares  1  woes  full  of  dread, 

Would  God  ere  I  my  message  can  declare, 

That  I  may  dye  in  saying  she  is  dead. 

And  was  it  not  enough  (poore  wretch  alas) 

That  I  beheld  her  dye,  and  would  have  dy'd? 

But  that  I  must  (arm'd  with  sad  tidings)  passe 

To  wound  all  them  who  heare  what  I  have  spy'd : 

(See  how  he  stands  (mov'd  with  those  words  of  mine,) 

As  if  by  griefe  arrested  unto  death.) 

Z>ar.  Yet  doth  the  sunne  on  my  affliction  shine, 
And  cleare  the  ayre  though  tainted  by  my  breath; 
And  can  I  live,  and  looke  them  in  the  face, 
Who  have  my  o'rethrow  (shamefull  o' rethrow)  scene? 
And  how  I  vanquish'd,  vanquish'd  with  disgrace, 
Did  lose  at  once  my  kingdome  and  my  queenel 
Heaven  bruise  me  all  to  powder  with  thy  thunder. 
That  I  no  more  may  in  the  world  remaine 
The  object  of  thy  wrath,  and  fortunes  wonder, 
Spoil' d  of  all  hope,  yet  kept  for  greater  paine. 
Ah,  art  thou  deadi  and  doe  I  live  behinde  thee'^ 
Thy  faulty  husband,  think'st  thou  so  to  flye? 
If  it  be  thus,  then  know  I  where  to  finde  thee, 
This  onely  grieves  me  that  too  late  I  dye. 
O  Alexander,  what  such  hainous  ill 
Have  I  done  thee,  that  thou  requit'st  me  thus'^ 
Whom  of  thy  friends  or  kindred  did  I  kill? 
This  cruelty  comes  undeserv'd  of  us, 
Though  justly  thou  intended  had  this  warre, 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  49 

Mars  from  his  rage  made  women  ahvaies  free, 
This  tyranny  shall  all  thy  trophees  marre, 
And  still  to  thy  reproch  reported  be. 

Tir.  Thus  of  that  prince,  you  without  cause  esteeme.* 
I  know  her  death  him  grievously  displeas'd, 
A  wondrous  thing  which  few  or  none  would  deeme, 
He  wail'd  it  long,  and  could  not  be  appeas'd. 
Even  as  my  soveraigne  now,  then  did  he  smart, 
And  when  he  came  to  calme  your  mothers  griefe. 
As  acting  not  his  owne,  but  even  your  part, 
He  seem'd  to  need,  and  not  to  give  reliefe. 

Dar.  If  any  sparkes  of  that  respect  remaine, 
Which  much  with  thee  should  (duely  weigh' d)  import, 
I  pray  thee,  Tlriotes,  now  be  plaine, 
Or  else  strange  torments  shall  the  truth  extort ; 
I  loath  to  let  this  question  scape  my  mouth. 
Which  both  I  blush  to  crave,  and  long  to  know. 
And  can  it  be,  that  this  transported  youth 
Not  urg'd  to  have  that  which  I  onely  owe? 
Could  this  fierce  prince  even  in  his  flaming  age. 
Have  such  a  beauty  purchas'd  by  his  toiles, 
And  yet  not  seeke  (forc'd  by  affections  rage) 
Her  honours  ruine,  and  my  pleasures  spoiles? 
Speake  frankely  now,  and  tell  what  fatall  shelfe 
Hath  crush'd  my  treasures  barke,  and  me  defac'd: 
The  feare  of  ill  is  worse  then  ill  it  selfe, 
"  They  twise  doe  dye,  who  dye,  and  dye  disgrac'd." 

Tir.   Let  not   those  love-bred  feares   abuse  your 
thought ; 
By  all  the  world  no  fable  I  contrive; 

•  "  Sir  without  cause  you  guiltie  him  esteeme." — 1604. 
VOL.    II.  E 


50  Stirling's  Poems. 

If  partially  I  speake,  or  lye  in  ought, 

Earth  open  wide,  and  swallow  me  alive : 

He  whom  your  grace  so  wi-ongfully  suspects, 

Hath  not  in  any  sort  your  queene  abus'd, 

But  as  his  sister  still  (in  all  respects) 

As  chastly  and  as  honourably  us'd ; 

When  angry  love  subverted  had  our  state,* 

And  view'd  our  thundred  troupes  disordered  flight, 

Light  fortune  then  who  flattered  us  of  late, 

Did  make  our  state  a  mirrour  of  her  might, 

For,  having  found  a  crowne  soil'd  on  the  ground. 

Dar.  O  endlesse  shame  which  never  can  be  cur'd ! 

Z/'r.  We  straight  imagin'd  that  some  cruell  wound 
Had  kill'd  our  Lord,  and  wail'd  it  as  assur'd. 

Dar.  Would  God  I  then  had  dy'd,  as  I  desir'd, 
To  have  prevented  those  ensuing  harmes, 
Whil'st  ere  my  honour  and  my  hap  expir'd, 
A  crowne  my  head,  a  queene  enrich'd  my  armes. 

Tir.  But  Alexander  having  heard  our  cryes. 
Sent  one  to  learne  the  cause  that  mov'd  our  woe ; 
Who  .finding  whence  our  errour  did  arise, 
Gave  full  assurance  that  it  was  not  so, 
Then  he  himselfe  did  to  our  tent  resort, 
And  with  the  mildest  words  he  could  conceive, 
Your  mother,  wife,  and  children  did  exhort 
Such  terrours  vaine  (since  but  surmiz'd)  to  leave; 
And  he  protested  that  they  should  expect 

*  "  When  fortune  first  our  warlike  troupes  had  scattered, 
And  with  great  slaughter  put  them  all  to  flight, 
We  whom  she  late  so  louingly  had  scattered 
Were  made  the  pattemes  of  that  changlings  might." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  5 1 

No  harme  of  him  their  courage  to  appall, 

Then  all  things  did  with  great  regard  direct, 

That  no  man  might  endammage  them  at  all. 

Thus  when  they  were  against  all  dangers  arm'd, 

(I  thinke,  for  feare  (for  who  would  not  have  fear'd  0 

Lest  such  rare  graces  might  his  minde  have  charm'd) 

He  never  more  before  her  face  appear'd; 

Else  generous  vertue,  jealous  of  each  thing, 

Which  (tempting  reason)  senses  might  allure, 

(What  rare  restraint  in  a  victorious  king) 

He  fled  what  fault,  or  scandall  could  procure. 

He  doth  his  fame  above  all  things  preferre. 

And  will  not  be  where  it  may  blemish  finde. 

Nor  give  his  eyes  commodity  to  erre, 

Lest  thoughts  impure  might  strive  to  staine  his  minde, 

He  whir  St  that  she  was  sicke,  did  loath  delight, 

And  (gravely  griev'd)  all  pompe  and  pleasure  left. 

Dar.  O  hatefull  heaven !  that  with  such  hellish  spight 
The  worlds  chiefe  treasure,  natures  glory  reft. 

Tir.  When  he  beheld  deaths  triumph  in  that  face, 
Which  had  triumph'd  o're  such  a  monarchs  heart, 
With  witness'd  woe,  even  passionate  a  space,* 
The  lookers  on  did  much  commend  his  part ; 
And  when  some  time  his  dolour  had  o'recome, 
His  funerall  rites  solemnly  to  decore, 
He  us'd  such  honour,  as  might  well  become 
The  Persian  pompe  in  prosp'rous  times  before. 

Dar.  O  pow'r  supreame !  that  of  great  states  disposest, 
And  ratifi'st  thy  will  with  fearfuU  thunder, 

*  "  He  mon'd  no  lesse  her  miserable  cace 

Then  you  that  lost  in  her  your  better  part."— 1604. 


52  Stirling  s  Poems. 

Who  as  thou  pleasest,  placest,  and  deposest 
Vncertaine  worldHngs,  now  above,  now  under: 
I  pray  thy  Deitie  in  my  soules  distresse, 
If  that  th'  inhabitants  of  heaven  can  heare 
The  plaints  of  them  who  this  low  point  possesse, 
Or  that  th'  immortals  can  give  mortals  eare, 
This  favour  last  I  onely  doe  require, 
Establish  first  the  scepter  in  my  hand ; 
But  if  through  my  desert,  or  thy  desire. 
The  race  of  Cyrus  must  no  more  command, 
Since  angry  heaven  so  high  a  hate  contracts, 
That  I  must  needs  my  diadem  foregoe, 
Let  him  succeed,  who  proves  in  all  his  acts. 
So  milde  a  victor,  and  so  just  a  foe. 


ACT   IV.      SCENE   II. 

Darius,  Artabazus,  Nabarzanes,  Patron,  Bessus. 

Dar.  If  joyn'd  by  fates  with  men  of  dastard  mindes,* 
Who  to  a  noble  death,  base  life  preferr'd, 

*  It  may  be  as  well  to  give  here  a  somewhat  lengthy  extract 
from  the  quarto  edition  of  1604,  as  it  will  give  the  reader  a  toler- 
ably fair  idea  of  the  quality  of  the  alterations  which  were  made 
by  the  author  between  it  and  the  small  i6mo  edition  (printed 
along  with  the  rest  of  the  Plays)  of  1616,  and  from  which  the 
folio  copy  of  1637  (forming  the  text  of  the  present  edition)  was, 
with  a  very  few  trifling  alterations,  printed : — 

Dar.   If  fortune  had  ioyned  me  with  dastard  mindes, 

Who  to  a  noble  death  base  life  prefer'd, 
I  should  not  harrengue  heere  vnto  the  windes, 

But  be  content  to  have  my  fate  defer'd. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  53 

I  should  not  waste  my  words  amongst  the  windes, 
But  labour  would  that  time  might  be  deferr'd; 

O,  I  repent  I  proou'd  your  worth  too  much, 

Who  still  have  follow'd  me  in  all  estates. 
I  rather  should,  then  doubt  that  you  are  such, 

Prease  to  proue  worthy  of  so  worthie  mates. 
Yee  onlie  rest  of  all  that  I  conducted, 

Of  whose  great  force  and  faith,  which  many  sing, 
I  by  two  fights,  and  flights  have  beene  instructed. 

Yet  having  you  I  thinke  myselfe  a  king. 
He  hath  placed  traitours  in  my  townes  most  ample. 

Not  that  he  honours  them  (he  hates  their  humour) 
But  to  seduce  you  by  their  example 

Then  baunish  all  for  eueiy  little  rumour. 
Yee  haue  not  to  my  fortune  had  regarde 

But  freelie-follow'd  my  euill  fortun'd  warres : 
Which,  though  that  I  might  not,  lone  would  rewarde 

And  all  the  world  extoll  you  to  the  starres. 
How  long  shall  I  a  vagabond  remaine, 

And  flie  a  stranger  who  my  right  would  reaue, 
Since  by  one  battell  we  may  re-obtaine 

All  that  we  lost,  or  loose  all  that  we  haue? 
Like  those  vile  traitours  whom  I  will  arraigne 

To  holde  me  up,  shall  I  goe  cast  me  downe. 
Must  Darius  onelie  by  entreatie  raigne? 

No,  none  hath  pow'r  to  take  or  giue  my  crowne. 
I  shall  not  my  authoritie  sur-viue 

Nor  will  I  proffer  a  submissiue  breath : 
My  hand  shall  holde  a  scepter  while  I  Hue  : 

My  head  shall  beare  a  diadem  till  death. 
If  those  franke  thoughts  that  doe  possesse  my  soule 

Such  flames  of  vertue  kindled  haue  in  you, 
A  Macedonian  neuer  shall  controule 

Our  noble  actes  nor  laugh  to  see  vs  bow. 
My  state  may  testifie  fraile  fortunes  change : 

May  she  not  him  o're-whelme,  as  well  as  me? 


54  Si ir ling's  Poems. 

Though  still  resolv'd,  your  course  confirmes  me  much, 
Whom  no  disaster  could  divorce  from  me, 
What  man  can  doubt  whom  heavens  doe  backe  by- 
such, 
When  (bragg'd  with  bondage)  fighting  to  be  free? 
My  courage  swels  to  see  you  marching  forth, 
Whose  force  and  faith,  which  all  the  world  doth  sing, 
(Oft  clear" d  by  proofe,  though  fortune  envy  worth) 
Might  serve  to  make,  farre  more  to  keepe  a  king. 
He  gives  our  rebels  townes,  not  mov'd  by  love : 
"  Each  prince  (though  using  them,)  all  traitours  hates." 
But  that  their  course  to  take,  this  might  you  move, 
His  turne  once  serv'd,  so  forfeiting  your  states. 
Ye  to  my  fortune  have  not  had  regard, 
As  of  my  peace,  so  partners  of  my  warres. 
Which,  though  that  I  might  not,  love  would  reward, 
And  all  the  world  extoll  you  to  the  starres. 
How  long  shall  I  a  vagabond  remaine, 
And  flye  a  stranger  who  my  right  would  reave, 
Since  by  one  battell  we  may  re-obtaine 
All  that  we  lost,  or  lose  all  that  we  have'? 
Like  some  vile  traitors,  whom  I  will  arraigne. 

At  least  our  hands  beare  death,  if  not  revenge : 

For  who  can  stop  a  stout  hart  for  to  die. 
Thinke  of  your  auncestors,  I  you  exhort, 

Who  made  the  Grecians  tributaries  euer ; 
And  of  whose  wondrous  actes  men  do  report 

Great  things,  the  fame  whereof  shall  perish  neuer. 
Shall  future  ages  in  your  praise  be  dombe 

Whil'st  they  your  fathers  memorie  adore: 
I  am  resolv'd,  my  triumphe  or  my  tombe, 

A  lawrell,  or  a  cipresse  shall  decore. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  55 

To  hold  me  up,  shall  I  goe  cast  me  downe'? 

Must  Darius  onely  by  entreaty  raigne  1 

No,  none  hath  pow'r  to  give,  or  take  my  crowne, 

I  shall  not  my  authority  survive, 

Nor  will  I  proffer  a  submissive  breath, 

My  hand  shall  hold  a  scepter  while  I  live, 

My  head  shall  beare  a  diadem  till  death; 

If  those  franke  thoughts  which  doe  possesse  my  soule, 

Such  flames  of  courage  kindled  have  in  you, 

A  Macedonian  shall  not  us  controule. 

Nor  with  disdainefull  smiles  brag  whil'st  we  bow : 

My  state  may  testifie  fraile  fortunes  change. 

May  she  not  him  o're-whelme,  as  well  as  mee? 

At  least  our  hands  beare  death,  if  not  revenge, 

"  Brave  mindes  when  no  more  rests  may  still  dye  free." 

Now  call  your  valorous  ancestors  to  minde. 

Who  from  the  Grecians  tribute  still  requir'd, 

And  of  whose  deeds  rare  monuments  we  finde, 

Whose  merits  make  their  memories  admir'd ; 

Shall  of  your  deeds,  posterity  be  dumbe, 

Which  doth  your  fathers  names  (though  dead)  adore  I 

I  am  resolv'd,  my  triumph,  or  my  tombe, 

A  laurell,  or  a  cypresse  shall  decore. 

Art.   What   doubtfull   silence   thus   your   thoughts 
detaines] 
We  need  advise  with  nought  but  with  our  swords ; 
He  who  the  Persians  wonted  worth  retaines. 
Will  answer  now  with  deeds,  and  not  with  words. 
Let  us  accompany  our  king  in  armes. 
Through  bloudy  squadrons  to  this  fatall  strife : 
"  No  profit  can  be  had  without  some  harmes," 


56  Stirling's  Poems. 

By  slaughter  onely  we  must  looke  for  life ; 
And  when  our  host  (as  I  hope)  doth  prevaile, 
Our  country  shall  have  peace,  we  praise  of  right; 
And  if  our  fortune  (not  our  courage)  faile, 
We  dye  with  honour  in  our  soveraignes  sight; 
Let  us  (if  vanquished)  scorne  base  breath  to  buy, 
A  noble  death  may  greater  glory  give, 
Doe  to  o're-come,  and  yet  not  feare  to  dye : 
'Tis  needfull  that  we  fight,  not  that  we  live. 

Nar.  My  words  will  first  your  majestic  displease. 
Yet  duty  makes  me  speake  where  silence  spilles; 
"  The  best  physitian  cures  a  sharpe  disease, 
"With  some  sowre  potion  that  corruption  killes; 
"  And  skilful!  pilots  when  they  feare  a  storme, 
"  To  save  the  ship,  will  cast  out  pretious  things," 
You  in  some  sort  may  imitate  their  forme, 
For  else  a  tempest  totall  ruine  brings. 
Since  bent  against  the  gods,  how  can  we  speed  1 
To  all  our  actions,  fortune  is  oppos'd. 
We  must  of  force  some  other  way  proceed, 
So  have  the  heavens  of  our  affaires  dispos'd : 
Give  (sir,)  the  state,  at  least  your  titles  place 
On  some  more  happy  man,  not  in  effect. 
But  with  your  shadow  cloath  him  for  a  space, 
Till  he  your  realraes  from  ruine  may  protect. 
This  storme  once  calm'd,  that  now  disturbs  your  state, 
And  Asia  free  from  any  forraigne  hoste. 
He  shall  with  haste  resigne  the  soveraigne  seat. 
These  kingdoms  gain'd  againe,  which  you  have  lost: 
All  Bactria  yet  abides  at  your  command. 
The  Indians,  loe,  would  dye  to  doe  you  good, 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  57 

Yea,  many  thousand  thousands  armed  stand, 

Bent  for  your  state  to  offer  up  their  bloud; 

What?  should  we  rush  hke  beasts  to  needlesse  strife? 

Be  well  prepar'd,  and  then  your  fortune  try, 

"  Brave  mindes  should  death  despise,  not  loathing  life : 

"  For  feare  of  danger  cowards  crave  to  die. 

"  But  vertue  first  all  hopes  accounts  doth  cast, 

"  And  of  each  meane  to  helpe  maturely  thinkes, 

"  Then,  when  all  else  is  done,  death  is  the  last, 

"  The  which  to  meet  true  courage  never  shrinkes." 

Now  for  the  time,  let  Bactria  be  our  seate. 

To  Bessjis  for  the  forme  your  crowne  resigne. 

Who,  when  he  once  hath  re-advanc'd  your  state, 

Shall  with  your  foes  o 'rethrow  his  charge  confine. 

Dar.  Wretch,  travell'st  thou  thy  soveraign  to  betray  ? 
Such  treason  dar'st  thou  to  our  eares  impart? 
Such  treason  under  trust?  stay  traitour  stay, 
My  sword  shall  search  what  lurkes  within  thy  heart. 

Art.  Sir,  reyne   your   rage :   this  but  new  trouble 
breeds. 
And  weigh  well  what  they  are,  what  is  the  time; 
It  may  be  this  from  ignorance  proceeds, 
"  In  thought,  and  not  in  word,  consists  a  crime;" 
Since  that  against  your  enemies  you  goe, 
Be  not  severe  in  cens'ring  subjects  parts. 
But  tolerate  your  owne,  to  grieve  your  foe, 
Now  must  we  strive  to  gaine,  not  lose  mens  hearts. 
It  by  all  meanes  shall  be  exactly  try'd, 
How  first  his  braine  such  fancies  did  embrace. 
And  if  but  simply,  not  puft  up  with  pride. 
He  must  be  pardon' d,  and  restor'd  to  grace. 


58  Stirling's  Poems. 

Dar.  And  of  my  subjects  I  would  rather  have 
Then  one  to  punish,  them  to  guerdon  all. 

Nar.  If  I  have  err'd,  no  pardon  (sir)  I  crave. 
First  heare,  and  if  I  faile,  then  let  me  fall ; 
I  call  the  Gods  to  testifie  my  part, 
Who  can  (commenting  thoughts)  cleare  truth  afford. 
If  ever  treason  harbour'd  in  my  heart. 
Straight  let  me  dye,  not  pittied,  but  abhorr'd; 
I  counsell  gave  according  to  my  skill, 
It  was  my  upright  mind  that  made  me  bold, 
And  though  my  wit  not  answer'd  to  my  will, 
"  Still  zeale  what  it  conceives,  must  needs  unfold. 
"  We  should  be  loth  to  speake  in  great  affaires, 
"  Where    words    are    damn'd,   or    ballanc'd    by   th' 

event : 
"  For,  if  things  faile,  the  fault  is  still  thought  theirs, 
"  Who  gave  advice,  though  of  a  good  intent," 
Great  Prince  forget  this  not  well  grounded  grudge : 
Who  dare  be  free  if  thus  for  words  rejected? 
At  least  examine  first  before  you  judge, 
I  rather  dye  absolv'd,  then  live  suspected. 

Da>'.  Your  fond  opinion  justly  might  be  fear'd, 
Which  seem'd  indeed  sinistrously  inclind ; 
For,  at  the  first  your  speech  to  me  appear'd 
The  poyson'd  birth  of  some  malitious  minde. 
But  your  purgation  now  hath  taken  place. 
And  of  your  faith  I  will  no  further  doubt, 
But  hold  you  in  the  same  degree  of  grace, 
That  you  enjoy'd,  before  those  words  chanc'd  out. 
I  thinke  that  Patron  lookes  with  speaking  eyes, 
As  if  his  minde  were  mightily  perplex' d, 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  59 

Come,  Patron,  tell  what  in  thy  bosome  lyes, 
By  which  thou  seem'st  so  wonderfully  vex'd. 

Pa.  Sir,  I  would  speake  in  private  if  I  could. 
That  which  affection  fir'd  with  zeale  affords, 
"  Let  silence  scale  what  friends  with  feare  unfold," 
Take   you   my   thoughts,   none   else    shall   have   my 

words : 
Though  onely  bound  by  voluntary  choice, 
We  follow  you  (all  other  hopes  quite  lost) 
Your  bodies  shadowes,  th'  ecchoes  of  your  voyce, 
As  faithfuU  now  as  when  you  flourish'd  most; 
For  where  you  are,  we  must  remaine  with  you, 
Since  both  our  lots  are  in  one  vessell  throwne, 
I  wish  our  tent  were  made  your  lodging  now. 
For,  we  will  save  your  life,  or  lose  our  owne. 
We  have  abandon' d  Greece  our  native  soile, 
And  our  retreat  no  Bactria  now  attends, 
But  those  who  us  would  of  your  person  spoile, 
Spoile  us  of  all,  whose  all  on  you  depends. 
Would  God  all  yours  were  bent  to  doe  their  due, 
"Fame  big  by  feare  doth  bring  forth  rumours  rife;" 
I  grant  it  grosse,  if  that  his  owne  were  true, 
To  trust  a  stranger  with  a  monarches  life. 

Dar.  What  sudden  danger  doth  of  late  dismay  you, 
Such  inconveniences  that  you  fore-cast "? 

Pa.  Sir,  BessHs  and  Narbazanes  betray  you, 
This  day  to  you  or  them  will  be  the  last: 
They  faine  repentance  onely  for  the  forme, 
Till  every  thing  be  for  the  fact  prepar'd. 
The  clouds  are  gathering  which  do  boast  a  storme. 
And  they  ere  night,  minde  to  invade  your  guard. 


6o  Stirling's  Poems. 

Dar.  I  trust  thy  words,  but  yet  I  cannot  wrong 
Those  who  by  nature  love  to  me  should  beare, 
Shall  I  leave  them  who  follow' d  me  so  long? 
Then  they  may  thinke,  I  merit  what  I  feare. 
I  will  await  on  what  the  heavens  will  send, 
For,  who  can  stand  when  fates  his  fall  conspire, 
And  with  mine  owne,  at  least,  least  griev'd  will  end, 
I  live  too  long  if  they  my  death  desire. 

Bes.  Take  heed  in  time  (sir)  to  this  subtile  Greeke, 
The  Grecian  faith  to  all  the  world  is  knowne, 
I  am  enform'd  he  by  all  meanes  doth  seeke 
To  gratifie  your  foe,  as  borne  his  owne;* 
"  And  marvell  not,  though  mercenary  men, 
"  Who  sell  themselves,  sell  all,  this  is  not  strange, 
"  They  have  no  God  but  gold,  nor  house,  how  then 
"  Can  they  be  constant,  who  doe  live  by  change?" 
Though  this  vaine  man  pre-occupy  you  thus. 
And  such  as  would  themselves  abuse  your  grace, 
Faith  shall  be  found  untainted  still  in  us, 
When  our  accuser  dare  not  show  his  face. 

Da):  Of  Alexander  those  who  hope  for  gaine, 
By  trait'rous  meanes  do  but  themselves  deceive, 
Since  none  in  earth  doth  traitors  more  disdaine, 
Nor  treason  can  in  greater  horrour  have. 

Bes.  Well,  sir,  you  shall  know  shortly  what  we  are, 
I  will  go  see  your  ensignes  all  displai'd. 

Dar.  It  better  is  since  things  are  gone  so  farre, 
Then  seeme  but  to  mistrust,  to  be  betray'd. 
Loe,  Artahazus,  I  have  acted  here 
My  part  of  greatnesse,  and  my  glasse  is  runne, 

*  "  Do  win  his  grace  who  hath  your  state  o'rethrown." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  6i 

Now  Patrons  speech  doth  evident  appeare, 
I  see  my  end,  yet  can  their  course  not  shunne. 

Art.  The  Badrians  onely  have  imbark'd  in  this, 
Go  to  the  Greeks,  which  if  with  courage  done, 
When  once  your  danger  manifested  is, 
The  Persians  all  will  follow  after  soon^. 

Dar.  And  what  if  I  were  gone  to  Patrons  tent. 
And  had  the  Greeks  for  guard  as  you  desire  % 
He  hath  but  thousands  foure  which  are  well  bent, 
They  thirty  thousand  who  my  fall  conspire; 
And  (doing  this)  I  should  their  deed  excuse, 
In  giving  them  a  cause  who  have  most  might; 
They  may  indeed  my  lenity  abuse, 
But  by  my  deed  they  shall  pretend  no  right. 

Art.  O  prince  to  be  bemoan'd,  who  can  but  weep 
To  see  thee  thus  involv'd  in  such  a  state'? 

Dar.  Retyre  you  all,  and  seek  your  selves  to  keep, 
I  here  attend  the  issue  of  my  fate. 
Ye  wonder  that  a  wretch  yet  breathing  stands, 
To  whom  the  heavens  no  comfort  can  impart: 
Feare  shall  not  make  me  fall  by  mine  owne  hands, 
No,  let  another  sinne  though  I  must  smart; 
None  of  you  all  have  falsifi'd  your  truth, 
But  loyall  still  unto  the  end  abide. 
Now  I  you  all  disburthen  of  your  oath. 
Leave  me  alone,  and  for  your  selves  provide. 

ACT   IV.      SCENE   III. 

Daritis. 
Dar.  O  stormy  state  of  kings,  vaine  mortalls  choice. 


62  Stirlin^^s  Poems. 


<b 


The  glorious  height  whence  greatnesse  grones  to  fall ! 

Ah!  we  (who  courting  fame,  do  hunt  each  voyce)* 

To  seenie  but  soveraigne  must  be  slaves  to  all : 

"  Yet  blowne  like  bladders,  with  ambitions  winde, 

"  On  envy'd  scepters  weakly  we  relye ; 

"  And  (whil'st  swoln  fancies  do  betray  the  minde) 

"  Not  onely  th'  earth,  but  heavens  themselves  defie. 

"Whil'st  loftie  thoughts  tumultuous  mindes  do  tosse, 

"  Which  are  puft  up  with  popular  applause, 

"  A  state  extended  by  our  neighbours  losse, 

"  For  further  trouble  but  procures  a  cause ; 

"If  fortunes  dark  ecclipse  clouds  glorious  light, 

"Then  what  avails  that  pomp  which  pride  doth  claim  \ 

"  A  meere  illusion  made  to  mock  the  sight, 

"  Whose  best  was  but  the  shadow  of  a  dreame ; 

"  Of  glassie  scepters,  let  fraile  greatnesse  vaunt, 

"  Not  scepters,  no,  but  reeds,  which  (rais'd  up)  break, 

"  And  let  eye-flatt'ring  shows  our  wits  enchaunt, 

"  All  perish'd  are,  ere  of  their  pomp  men  speak ; 

"  Those  golden  palaces,  those  gorgeous  halls, 

"  With  furniture  superfluously  faire, 

"  Those  stately  courts,  those  skie-encountring  walls, 

"  Do  vanish  all  like  vapours  in  the  ayre. 

"  O  !  what  affliction  jealous  greatnesse  beares, 

"  Which  still  must  travell  to  hold  others  do\vne, 

"  Whil'st  all  our  guards  not  guard  us  from  our  feares, 

"Such  toile  attends  the  glory  of  a  crowne'?" 

Where  are  they  all  who  at  my  feet  did  bow, 

Whil'st  I  was  made  the  idoll  of  so  many? 

What  joy  had  I  not  then?  what  have  I  now? 

•  "  Our  pow'r  depends  upon  the  peoples  voice." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  63 

Of  all  once  honour'd,  and  now  scarce  of  any. 

"  Our  painted  pleasures  but  apparrell  paine : 

"  We  spend  our  nights  in  feare,  our  dayes  in  dangers, 

"  Balls  toss'd  by  starres,  thrals  bound  to  fortunes  raigne, 

"Though  known  to  all,  yet  to  ourselves  but  strangers, 

"A  golden  crowne  doth  cover  leaden  cares; 

"  The  scepter  cannot  lull  their  thoughts  asleep, 

"  Whose  souls  are  drown'd  with  flouds  of  cold  despaires, 

"  Of  which  base  vulgars  cannot  sound  the  deep. 

"  The  bramble  grows,  although  it  be  obscure, 

"  Whil'st  loftie  cedars  feele  the  blust'ring  windes, 

"  And  niilde  Plebeian  souls  may  live  secure, 

"While  mighty  tempests  tosse  imperiall  mindes; 

"  What  are  our  dayes  but  dreames,  our  raigne  a  glance, 

"  Whil'st  fortunes  feaver  makes  us  rage  and  rave, 

"  Which  with  strange  fits  doth  to  a  height  advance, 

"Till,  ere  paine  us,  we  first  our  life  must  leave? 

"  For  glist'ring  greatnesse  by  ambition  lov'd, 

"  I  was  the  wonder  of  all  gazing  eyes, 

"  But  free  from  shadows  (reall  essence  prov'd) 

"States  just  proportion  ruine  onely  tryes." 

Loe,  charg'd  with  chains  which  (though  they  be  of  gold) 

My  states  distresse  diminish  not  the  more, 

When  this  prepost'rous  honour  I  behold. 

It  but  upbraids  me  what  I  was  before, 

And  what  was  I  before  (as  now  I  see) 

(Though  what  afflicted  was  not  clearly  knowne) 

But  still  in  fetters,  whilst  appearing  free, 

And  in  a  labyrinth  of  labours  throwne. 

Was  I  not  forc'd  to  serve  a  thousand  humours, 

To  scape  the  censure  of  a  criticke  storie, 


6  4  Stirling's  Poems. 

Still  clog'd  with  cares,  enrag'd  with  many  rumours; 

O  glorious  bondage,  and  6  burd'nous  glory! 

That  dignity  which  deifi'd  me  late, 

And  made  the  world  doe  homage  to  my  name, 

Doth  not  oppose  that  which  pursues  my  state, 

But  by  my  fall  gives  feathers  unto  fame; 

My  best  was  but  a  momentary  blisse. 

Which  leaves  behind  this  ever-lasting  sting, 

That  of  all  woes  no  woe  is  like  to  this. 

To  thinke  I  was,  and  am  not  now  a  king. 

No  man  with  me  in  all  th'  accomplish'd  joyes 

That  satisfie  the  soule,  could  once  compare; 

No  man  may  match  me  now  in  sad  annoyes. 

Or  any  crosse  which  can  provoke  despaire. 

Thrice  fortune  did  my  gallant  troups  entrap, 

And  I  to  fall  did  desperately  stand, 

Yet  could  not  be  so  happy  in  mishap. 

As  to  have  di'd  by  some  renowned  hand; 

But  for  my  greater  griefe,  disgrace,  and  scorne 

(The  mindes  of  men  so  apt  are  to  deceave) 

They  whom  aloft  my  favours  wings  had  borne. 

Even  they  have  made  their  master  thus  a  slave. 

Ah!  did  not  death  in  prison  from  me  reave. 

The  sacred  soveraigne  of  my  soules  desires? 

And  I  (wretch' d  I)  not  present  to  receave, 

The  last  cold  kisse  that  should  have  quench'd  my 

fires? 
Yet,  O  thrice  happie  thou,  who  hast  not  liv'd 
To  beare  a  burden  of  this  great  disgrace ! 
More  then  a  thousand  deaths  this  had  thee  griev'd, 
To  know  I  di'd,  and  di'd  in  such  a  case. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  65 

Ah !  doe  the  pledges  of  our  mutuall  love, 

(The  onely  comfort  that  the  fates  have  left) 

Rest  iDrison'd  yet?  and  may  I  not  remove 

My  mother  thence,  as  of  all  power  quite  reft  % 

My  paines  are  more  then  with  my  pleasures  even. 

Since  first  my  head  was  burden'd  with  a  crowne; 

Was  I  exhalted  once  up  to  the  heaven, 

That  to  the  center  love  might  throw  me  downe  < 

My  ample  empire,  and  my  princely  birth, 

My  great  magnificence,  and  vaine  excesse, 

All  cannot  yeeld  my  minde  one  minutes  mirth, 

To  ease  me  now  in  this  my  great  distresse. 

Loe  here  reduc'd  vnto  the  worst  of  ills, 

Past  helpe,  past  hope,  and  onely  great  in  griefe. 

Two  abject  vassals  make  me  waite  their  willes, 

Not  looking,  no,  nor  wishing  for  reliefe. 

If  that  my  honour  had  beene  first  repair'd, 

Then   what    though   death   had   this   fraile    fortresse 

wonne'? 
I  waile  my  life  (since  for  disgrace  prepared) 
Not  that  it  ends,  but  that  it  was  begunne : 
What  fatall  conflict  can  my  count'nance  marre, 
Though  me  to  bragge,  death  all  his  horrours  bring*? 
I  never  shall  wrong  majestic  so  farre, 
As  ought  to  doe  that  not  becomes  a  king. 

Chorus. 

Some  new  disaster  daylie  doth  fore-show 
Our  comming  ruine :  wee  have  scene  our  best : 
For,  fortune  bent  us  wholy  to  o'rethrow, 

VOL.  II.  F 


66  Stirling's  Poems. 


'<b 


Throwes  dovvne  our  king  from  herwheeles  height  so  low, 
That  by  no  meanes  his  state  can  be  redrest : 
For,  since  by  armies  his  pow'r  hath  beene  represt, 
Both  friends  and  servants  leave  him  all  alone; 
Few  have  compassion  of  his  state  distrest, 
To  him  themselves  a  number  false  doth  show ; 
So  foes  and  faithlesse  friends  conspir'd  in  one, 
Fraile  fortune  and  the  fates  with  them  agree : 
"All  runne  with  hatchets  on  a  falling  tree." 

This  prince  in  prosp'rous  state  hath  flourish'd  long, 
And  never  dream'd  of  ill,  did  thinke  farre  lesse, 
But  was  well  follow'd  whilst  his  state  was  strong; 
Him  flattering  Syrens  with  a  charming  song 
Striv'd  to  exalt,  then  whilst  he  did  possesse 
This  earthly  drosse,  that  with  a  vaine  excesse 
He  might  reward  their  mercenarie  love; 
But  now  when  fortune  drives  him  to  distresse, 
His  favourites  whom  he  remain' d  among, 
They  straight  with  her  (as  hers)  their  faith  remove;* 
And  who  for  gaine  to  follow  him  were  wont, 
They  after  gaine  by  his  destruction  hunt. 

"  O  more  then  happie  ten  times  were  that  king, 
"Who  were  vnhappie  but  a  little  space, 
"  So  that  it  did  not  utter  ruine  bring, 
"  But  made  him  prove  (a  profitable  thing) 
"Who  of  his  traine  did  best  deserve  his  grace; 
"  Then  could,  and  would  of  those  the  best  embrace ; 
"Such  vulturs  fled  as  follow  but  for  prey, 
*■  "With  foes  and  fortune  straight  their  faith  remoue." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  67 

"That  faithful!  servants  might  possesse  their  place. 
"All  gallant  minds  it  must  with  anguish  sting, 
"  Whilst  wanting  meanes  their  vertue  to  display  ; 

"This  is  the  griefe  which  bursts  a  generous  heart; 

"When  favour  comes  by  chance,  not  by  desart." 

Those  minions  oft  to  whom  kings  doe  extend. 
Above  their  worth,  immoderate  good-will, 
(The  buttes  of  common  hate  oft  bit  in  end) 
In  prosp'rous  times  they  onely  doe  depend, 
Not  upon  them,  but  on  their  fortune  still. 
Which  if  it  change,  they  change,  them  though  they  fill 
Their  hopes  with  honour,  and  their  chests  with  coyne; 
Yet  if  they  fall,  or  their  affaires  goe  ill, 
Those  whom  they  rais'd  will  not  with  them  descend, 
But  with  the  side  most  stronge  all  straight  doe  joyne, 
And  doe  forget  all  what  was  given  before. 
When  once  of  them  they  can  expect  no  more. 

The  truth  hereof  in  end  this  strange  event, 
In  Bessiis  and  Narbazanes  hath  prov'd, 
On  whom  their  prince  so  prodigally  spent 
Affection,  honour,  titles,  treasure,  rent, 
And  all  that  might  an  honest  minde  have  mov'd. 
So  bountyfull  a  prince  still  to  have  lov'd, 
Who  so  benignely  tendred  had  their  state; 
Yet  traitours  vile  (all  due  respects  remov'd) 
They  him  to  strike  the  strength  he  gave  have  bent, 
Soe  as  he  now  may  rue,  although  too  late, 
That  slie  camelions  changing  thus  their  hue, 
To  servants  were  preferr'd,  who  still  were  true. 


68  Stirlin^^s  Poems 


<b 


But  though  those  traitours  for  a  space  doe  speed. 
No  doubt  the  heavens  once  vengeance  will  exact ; 
The  very  horrour  of  this  hainous  deed, 
Doth  make  the  hearts  of  honest  men  to  bleed : 
Yea,  even  the  wicked  hate  this  barbarous  act: 
The  heavens  no  higher  choler  can  contract, 
Then  for  the  forcing  of  a  sacred  king, 
Whose  state  (if  rage  doe  not  their  mindes  distract) 
Must  feare  and  reverence  in  inferiours  breed, 
To  whom  from  him  all  what  is  theirs  doth  spring; 
But  though  on  th'  earth  men  should  neglect  this 


wrong. 


Heavens  will  those  traitours  plague  ere  it  be  long. 


ACT   V.       SCENE   I. 

Hephesiioii,  Alexander,  Polystratiis. 

Hep.  What  story  or  what  fable  can  record 
Of  such  a  numb'rous  troupe  so  strangely  lost  i 
I  know  they  quak'd  to  know  it  was  my  lord. 
Whose  name  alone  is  worth  anothers  hoste: 
It  scarse  can  trusted  be  in  many  parts; 
"  But  traitours  feare,  though  all  the  world  them  backe," 
They  were  but  bodies  destitute  of  hearts : 
Moe  prisoners  they  were  then  men  to  take. 
Who  would  believe  so  few  durst  strive  to  meete 
So  great  an  army,  and  the  army  shrinkes? 
"  But  glories  flattery,  and  fames  sounds  are  SAveet : 
"  True  valour  dare  attempt  all  that  it  thinkes." 

Alex.  In  this  encounter  to  have  had  the  best, 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  69 

It  would  content  more  then  a  common  minde;* 

But  since  we  want  the  chiefe,  what  of  the  rest? 

I  must  in  all  a  satisfaction  finde ; 

Those  traitours  thought  to  finish  thus  the  warre, 

By  giving  me  their  lord  whom  they  have  bound, 

But  I  who  march  with  confidence  so  farre 

Doe  scorne  to  build  upon  so  base  a  ground ; 

To  venge  my  wrongs  dare  others  then  designed 

Since  Darius  was  ordain' d  my  prey  to  be, 

How  durst  they  but  have  aim'd  at  ought  of  mine? 

His  o'rethrowes  glory  did  belong  to  mee. 

Whilst  in  himselfe  he  onely  did  confide, 

I  by  all  nieanes  did  strive  to  make  him  bow, 

But  since  his  hard  estate  abates  that  pride, 

My  fury  turn'd  is  to  compassion  now- 

Though  he  contemn'd  me  oft,  and  did  me  wrong, 

Yet  am  I  griev'd  that  he  was  thus  deceav'd, 

If  but  acknowledg'd  once  to  be  more  strong, 

I  not  his  blood,  nor  yet  his  kingdome  crav'd ; 

And  if  those  traitours  have  not  kill'd  him  straight, 

Yet  his  delivery  shall  my  name  renowne, 

I  would  not  lose  a  subject  of  such  weight, 

By  which  my  clemency  might  be  made  knowne. 

Po.  Sir,  now  your  comming  cannot  doe  him  good. 

Alex.  AVhat?  all  are  fled,  none  have  my  force  with- 
stood? 

Po.  Yet  can  not  Darius  be  redeem'd  againe. 

Alex.  Why,  have  they  set  him  free,  or  is  he  slaine? 

Po.  Now  he  enjoyes  a  libertie  at  last; 
But  ransom'd  is  by  offering  up  his  breath. 

Thought."— 1604. 


*  (f 


7o  Stirling'' s  Poems. 

Alex.  Then  is  all  Asia''s  expectation  past? 
Tell  on  at  length  the  manner  of  his  death. 

Fo.  The  boiling  ardor  of  the  rising  sunne 
(All  moisture  gone)  did  breede  so  great  a  drouth, 
That  from  the  way  I  had  a  little  runne, 
To  finde  some  fountaine  to  refresh  my  mouth ; 
There,  by  the  borders  of  a  rysing  brooke, 
Which  shadow'd  was  from  Titans  rysing  beames, 
From  liquid  crystalls  I  a  tribute  tooke, 
Which  seem'd  to  murmure,  that  I  forc'd  their  streames : 
When  (loe)  I  saw  (a  lamentable  sight) 
Two  wounded  horses  draw  a  bloody  coach, 
Which  clad  with  skinnes,  shew  horrour  at  the  height ; 
And  it  to  spie  when  as  I  did  approach, 
One  was  within,  who  could  not  long  time  scape, 
The  fatall*  passage  of  th'  infernall  gates; 
Yet  majestic  triumphing  o're  mishap, 
Hee  seem'd  to  bragget  both  fortune  and  the  fates. 
And  to  so  base  a  state  as  first  not  borne, 
Then  whilst  his  bloode  aboundantly  did  fall. 
He  bursted  forth  those  words  in  fortunes  scorne, 
As  one  whose  courage  nothing  could  appall : 
You  gaze  to  see  (and  have  good  cause  wherefore) 
A  man  no  man,  a  king  no  king  :  what  change? 
Now  lesse  then  nought  who  once  was  both,  and  more ; 
This  would  seeme  wond'rous,  but  no  state  is  strange; 
And  yet  a  midst  my  evils  I  must  rejoyce, 
That  this  last  comfort  doth  forgoe  my  end. 
I  speake  to  one  who  can  conceave  my  voice, 
And  not  in  vaine  my  dying  speeches  spend; 

*  "Doubtfull."— 1604.  +  "Threaten."— 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  7 1 

I  am,  but  how?  in  name,  and  not  in  pow'r. 

That  wretched  Darius  (which  I  should  suppresse) 

Once  happie  (as  was  thought)  but  at  this  hower, 

A  lively  patterne  of  extreame  distresse. 

Then  having  paus'd  (he  said)  my  griefe  is  great, 

Tell  Alexander  (as  the  world  may  spie) 

That  though  of  me  he  never  had  but  hate, 

Yet  am  I  forc'd  farre  in  his  debt  to  die : 

The  favour  past  extended  to  my  queene : 

And  that  poore  remnant  my  surviving  rest, 

(When  weighing  well  what  I  to  him  have  beene) 

I  wish  continu'd,  but  can  scarce  request ; 

They  to  his  foe  belong,  and  yet  he  strives 

To  have  them  honour'd  now,  as  in  times  past ; 

But  those  who  held  of  me  both  states,  and  lives. 

Of  state  and  life  have  me  depriv'd  at  last. 

Entreat  him  too  that  unreveng'd  below 

I  wander  not  as  haplesse  in  all  things ; 

Let  men  his  justice,  and  their  treason  know; 

This  (as  a  common  cause)  doth  touch  all  kings. 

Beside  the  honour  which  he  shall  acquire 

In  plaguing  them  who  have  betrai'd  my  trust. 

His  magnanimity  men  shall  admire. 

And  feare  to  grieve  him  whom  they  finde  so  just. 

"  As  watrie  rounds  which  rise  and  reele  in  raine, 

"  Do  swell,  and  flote,  yet  when  they  break  (though 
bright) 

"  Last,  leave  (when  fall'n)  no  token  save  a  stayne," 

Pompe  quickly  thus  both  courts  and  scornes  the  sight; 

And  since  my  glasse  is  runne,  my  glory  gone, 

I  dead  unto  the  world,  the  world  to  me, 


7  2  Stirling's  Poons. 

I  wish  (save  his)  that  th'  earth  adore  no  throne  : 

For,  from  his  raigne  what  subject  would  be  free  % 

Then  droAvping  downe,  faint,  bloodlesse,  and  halfe  dead, 

He  prai'd  me  for  some  water  that  ranne  by, 

(A  small  request  by  such  a  monarch  made) 

Which  when  that  he  had  got :  yet,  ere  I  die 

This  crosse  must  come  (said  he)  to  kill  me  quite; 

Though  nations  once  to  mee  as  soveraigne  sought, 

I  have  not  now  the  pow'r  but  to  requite 

This  little  benefit,  that  thou  hast  brought : 

But  Alexander  shall  reward  thee  well, 

And  him  the  heavens,  still  yeelding  his  desires. 

Since  that  his  foes  (though  envie  burst)  must  tell 

That  courtesie  which  all  the  world  admires. 

Now  none  hath  pow'r  his  pleasure  to  controule. 

But  if  he  use  them  well  whom  he  retaines. 

It  will  procure  contentment  to  my  soule. 

And  make  him  famous  whilst  the  world  remaines. 

When  breath  abandon'd  hath  this  brittle  clay, 

Then  cause  some  friend  defray  my  funerall  cost, 

That  churlish  Charon  force  me  not  to  stray 

Where  darkenesse  dwells,  an  unregarded  ghost. 

Last,  give  my  corpes  to  her  who  brought  it  forth, 

Who  may  it  with  my  ancestours  entombe, 

And  since  she  lov'd  me  much,  though  little  worth, 

May  waile  this  burden  which  once  grac'd  herwombe; 

And  to  that  prince  whose  state  I  wish  to  stand, 

In  signe  of  love  which  all  my  thoughts  doe  send, 

My  soule  gives  him  my  heart,  it  thee  my  hand: 

Thus  though  I  liv'd  his  foe,  I  die  his  friend. 

I  had  but  held  his  hand  a  little  space, 


TJic  Tragedy  of  Darius.  73 

When  dying  like  a  torch  whose  wax  is  spent, 
In  spite  of  payne,  even  with  a  princely  grace, 
His  hands  still  seem'd  directing  as  he  went. 

Alex.    Who  could   refraine   from   teares   to   heare 
declar'd 
The  huge  mishapps,  which  all  at  once  did  light ; 
Have   subiects    slaine   their  prince,  whom   strangers' 

spar'd? 
Vs  hath  he  iled,  that  perish  thus  he  might ! 
I  for  his  fall  am  wonderfully  sorry, 
Whom  first  I  forc'd,  but  last  would  have  maintained : 
I  envie  death,  because  it  rob'd  the  glory 
Which  I  (by  giving  him  his  life)  had  gain'd. 

Hep.  Since  death  hath  put  a  period  to  his  woes, 
That  favour  which  to  him  you  would  extend, 
Let  it  with  furie  flame  against  his  foes. 
For  your  designes  can  have  no  fairer  end : 
So  shall  you  both  the  peoples  love  obtaine. 
Whilst  by  your  meanes  reveng'd  their  soveraigne  rests, 
And  likewise  may  the  more  securely  raigne, 
The  state  well  purg'd  from  such  contagious  pests, 
"  If  but  one  vertue  did  adorne  a  king, 
"  It  would  be  justice;  many  great  defects 
"  Are  vail'd  thereby,  whereas  each  vertuous  thing 
"  In  one  who  is  not  just,  the  world  suspects." 

Alex.  Though  this  your  counsell,  nor  yet  his  request. 
Had  not  the  pow'r  to  penetrate  my  eare, 
A  generous  stomach  could  not  well  digest, 
So  great  a  wrong  which  courage  stormes  to  beare. 
My  sprite  (impatient  of  repose)  disdaines. 
That  they  so  long  their  infamie  survive : 


74  Stirlijig^s  Poems. 

But  I  will  punish  with  most  grievous  paines 
The  monstrous  treason  that  they  did  contrive. 
What?  doe  they  thinke  (though  back'd  with  numbrous 

bands) 
That  Badria  is  a  bulwarke  for  mine  ire  ? 
Flie  where  they  list,  they  cannot  scape  my  hands, 
My  wrath  shall  follow  Uke  consuming  fire. 
Such  damned  soules  the  heaven  cannot  receave, 
He  force  hells  dungeons,  as  Alcidcs  did, 
And  they  on  th'  earth  no  bounds  but  mine  can  have, 
I'le  search  them  out  though  in  the  center  hid. 
And  when  as  threatning  now  I  once  may  strike, 
Betwixt  the  bending  boughs  of  some  strong  tree, 
To  traitours  terrours  who  intend  the  like, 
They  shall  by  violence  dismembred  be. 

Poll.  Sir,  may  it  please  you  to  extend  your  care, 
That  some  his  funerall  offices  perform e. 

Alex.  Goe  presently,  and  every  thing  prepare. 
As  best  becomes  the  military  forme. 


ACT   V.      SCENE   II. 

Sisigambis,  Nuntzus,  Chorus. 

Sis.  This  looke  alas,  hath  charg'd  my  soule  with 
feares : 
Speak,  for  my  life  doth  on  thy  lippes  depend. 
Thy  count'nance  (ah)  a  dolefuU  copie  beares 
Of  some  sad  summons  to  denounce  my  end. 
Starve  not  my  eares,  which  famish  for  thy  words, 
Though  they  when  swallow'd  may  but  make  me  burst. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  75 

Nun.  The    message    (madame)    which    my    soule 
affords 
Must  once  be  knowne,  and  once  knowne  still  accurst. 

Sis.  Be  not  a  niggard  of  ill  newes. 

Nun.  And  why? 

Sis.  Fame  will  tell  all  the  world. 

Nun.  But  first  to  you. 

Sis.  Tell  soone. 

Nun.  Your  sonne  is  dead. 

Sis.  Then  let  me  die. 

Cho.  Her  joyes  and  pleasures  all  are  perish'd  now. 

Sis.  Why  opens  not  the  earth  straight  to  devoure 
A  hopelesse  caitive  who  all  good  hath  lost  % 
The  longer  that  I  live,  my  griefe  growes  more, 
As  but  to  mischiefe  borne,  kept  to  be  crost ; 
Would  God  this  masse  where  miserie  remaines, 
A  weight  of  earth  from  sight  of  men  might  keepe  ; 
Or  that  the  seas  all  raging  through  the  plaines 
Would  make  my  tombe  amid'st  their  tumid  deepe. 
O  Alexander!  hast  thou  rob'd  his  life, 
Yet  entertain'd  me  still  in  hope  to  finde  him : 
Why  did'st  thou  not  first  kill  this  poore  old  wife, 
Who  was  not  worthy  to  have  liv'd  behind  him  % 
That  I  should  live  till  thou  my  sonne  had'st  slaine. 
Was  all  thy  kindnesse  for  this  cause  imploi'd? 

Nun.  You  wrong  that  prince,  for  he  with  hast  in 
vaine 
Came  him  to  help  whom  others  had  destroi'd. 

Sis.  What  impious  thoughts  durst  dreame  so  vile 
a  deed, 
A  monarchs  murther,  Asia's  glories  end  ? 


'J  6  Stirling^ s  Poems. 

Nun.  Two  whom  he  rais'd  did  his  confusion  breed, 
He  found  his  friend  his  foe,  his  foe  a  friend. 

Sis.  Tell  on  thy  message,  messenger  of  death, 
And  loade  my  minde  with  mountaines  of  distresse, 
That  tears  may  drowne  my  sight,  sighs  choake  my 

breath, 
Whilst  sorrow  all  my  sences  doth  possesse. 

Nun.  When  Alexander-  (who  at  peace  repin'd) 
Did  (save  submission)  hold  all  offers  vaine, 
Bent  of  Sterne  Mafs  to  try  the  doubtfull  minde ; 
A  generall  muster  Darius  did  ordaine, 
And  (in  one  battell  bent  to  venture  all) 
He  caus'd  his  will  be  publikely  proclaim'd, 
AVhilst  two  vile  traitours  did  conspire  his  fall. 
Who  Bcssus  and  Narbazanes  were  nam'd; 
Those  two  in  councell  did  discover  first 
Some  portion  of  the  poison  of  their  heart, 
Which  caus'd  the  king  suspect,  but  not  the  worst, 
Yet  with  a  sword  he  sought  to  make  them  smart. 
But  having  scap'd  what  first  was  fear'd  from  rage,* 
They  seem'd  so  much  their  errour  to  lament, 
His  indignation  that  they  did  asswage, 
(False  hypocrites)  pretending  to  repent. 
Whilst  Artabazus  as  an  honest  man 
Who  judg'd  of  others  by  his  vpright  minde, 
(No   fraud   conceav'd)   sought    more   to   scape   then 

scan, 
What  they  with  craft  to  compasse  crownes  design'd. 

Cho.   "  A  mind  sincere  is  ever  least  suspitious : 
"  These  think  all  faultie,  who  themselves  are  vitious." 
"  With  teares  of  crocodiles  they  so  lamented." — 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  7  7 

Nun.  They  urg'd  him  with  the  king  to  interceed, 
That  in  his  favour  he  would  give  them  place, 
And  did  protest  that  by  some  valorous  deed, 
They  labour  would  to  gaine  againe  his  grace ; 
Then  Artabazus  came  and  told  the  king, 
That  in  the  battell  he  might  try  their  faith, 
And  both  before  his  majestic  did  bring, 
Who  (when  submisse)  did  quickly  calme  his  wrath. 
With   hands   stretch'd   up  to    heaven,   and  humbled 

knees, 
With  teares  like  those  which  crocodiles  doe  shed. 
Woe  in  their  face  and  pitie  in  their  eyes, 
Did  for  compassion  (though  from  rigour)  pleade. 
The  king  of  nature  milde  did  them  receave, 
And  them  (who  thus  but  for  the  forme  complain'd) 
Not  onely  all  (relenting)  quite  forgave; 
But  wept  in  earnest  too  whil'st  they  but  fain'd ; 
When  in  his  coach  from  all  suspition  free. 
With  count'nance  sad  long  following  on  behind e 
(As  still  pretending  supplicants  to  be) 
They  bow'd  to  him  whom  they  were  bent  to  binde ; 
The  Grecian  captaine  curiously  neare 
(When  mark'd  a  suter)  crav'd  what  he  requir'd, 
By  pregnant  proofes  did  evidently  cleare, 
What  treason  was  against  his  state  conspir'd: 
He  told  what  way  their  purpose  might  be  tri'd, 
And  how  the  Bactrians  were  for  trouble  bent, 
Then  for  his  safety  pray'd  him  to  provide, 
By  straight  with  him  retyring  to  his  tent; 
But  in  the  king  who  did  neglect  his  state, 
No  kinde  of  care  this  friendly  offer  bred  : 


78  Stirling' s  Poems. 

So  that  (it  seem'd)  he  by  some  pow'rfull  fate 

Was  head-long  forward  to  confusion  led : 

The  Greeke  past  thence  despairing  him  to  save, 

Who  thus  all  meanes  to  help  himselfe  refus  'd ; 

With  subtle  words  then  Bessiis  there  did  crave 

To  purge  himselfe,  and  errours  past  excus'd; 

Old  Artabazus  happ'ning  to  approach, 

The  king  to  him  did  Patrons  speech  report, 

Who  then  perceiv'd  what  danger  did  encroach, 

And  wish'd  he  would  where  Greeks  were  strong  resort. 

But  in  his  breast  this  purpose  firmly  plac'd, 

That  from  his  subjects  he  would  never  flie, 

With  mutuall  teares  they  tenderly  embrac'd. 

And  parted  there,  like  two  who  went  to  dye. 

Now  silent  night  in  pitchie  vapours  cled, 

Had  must'red  mysts,  and  march'd  out  of  the  west; 

(Dayes  beauties  darkning,  shadowie  horrours  spread) 

The  sentinels  were  set,  and  all  at  rest. 

When  (loe)  a  terrour  did  distract  the  host ! 

Whose  bands  to  murmure  were  dispers'd  in  parts, 

With  sounds  resembling  ships  in  stormes  neare  lost, 

Whilst  each  to  other  cause  of  feare  imparts. 

Those  who  their  king  appointed  were  to  guard. 

From  what  was  due  by  fraud  or  feare  did  stray; 

And  (to  his  danger  having  no  regard) 

His  fortunes  minions  fled  with  her  away. 

The  desolation  then  growne  wondrous  great, 

With  some  few  eunuchs  Darius  left  alone, 

(No  strength  remaining,  nor  no  signe  of  state) 

He  thus  them  spake,  who  for  his  fall  did  mone : 

Go,  part  in  peace  ere  further  harme  be  had, 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  79 

Lest  that  my  ruine  likewise  you  surprise. 

They  hearing  those  sad  words  (as  men  gone  mad) 

Went  howling  through  the  host  with  dolorous  cryes ; 

So  that  all  those  who  heard  what  plaints  they  made, 

Thought  that  they  had  their  soveraigns  death  bewail'd  ; 

And  (forcing  trust)  some  forg'd  reports  were  spread, 

That  he  had  kill'd  himselfe,  all  hope  quite  fail'd. 

The  Persians  griev'd  whilst  these  things  did  occurre, 

Did  first  encourage  all  their  countrey  bands 

To  help  their  prince,  but  yet  they  durst  not  stirre 

For  feare  of  falling  in  the  Bactrians  hands; 

Even  in  the  time  when  this  confusion  was, 

The  traitors  to  deferre  the  fact  no  more, 

Did  to  their  soveraignes  tent  with  squadrons  passe, 

And  took,  and  bound,  him  whom  they  serv'd  before; 

AVho  in  a  golden  coach  once  proudly  rode, 

Was  throwne  in  one  for  common  carriage  us'd, 

And  who  of  late  was  honour'd  like  a  god, 

Two  of  his  owne  (as  if  their  slave)  abus'd : 

Those  royall  hands  to  beare  a  scepter  borne. 

Were  basely  bound,  and  which  the  more  him  griev'd, 

"  (Thus  misery  can  hardly  scape  from  scorne) 

"  With  bands  of  gold,  which  burden'd,  not  reliev'd." 

When  Alexander  (great  with  courage)  spy'd 

Our  armies  flie,  he  (who  in  hope  them  chac'd) 

To  follow  us  with  diligence  did  ride, 

"  Base  seem'd  the  conquest  which  no  danger  grac'd ;" 

But  when  at  last  at  length  by  some  inform'd 

How  he  was  made  a  captive  to  his  owne. 

At  this  indignity  he  highly  storm'd. 

As  if  by  it  his  hopes  had  beene  o're-throwne. 


8o  Sfir/h/s^'s  Poems. 


■<b 


Out  of  his  host  he  did  select  a  few 

Who  were  best  hors'd,  and  fit  for  such  a  fight, 

With  whom  his  foes  he  did  so  fast  pursue, 

That  e're  they  could  suspect,  he  came  in  sight : 

The  traitors  vex'd  when  spying  him  appeare, 

Came  to  the  cart  whereas  the  king  did  stay, 

And  call'd  to  horse  in  haste,  since  foes  were  neare, 

Lest  that  they  else  might  finde  him  for  a  prey. 

He  look'd  aloft,  and  cry'd  aloud,  I  see 

That  Nemesis  is  frowning  from  above; 

Should  I  with  traitors  as  a  captive  be? 

And  flie  from  him,  who  but  brave  warres  doth  move  ? 

Then  those  in  whom  impiety  abounds, 

Throw' d  darts  at  him  (vile  beasts  to  be  abhorr'd) 

And  hurt  the  horses  with  an  hundred  wounds. 

Then  men  more  trusty,  dying  for  their  Lord ; 

As  false  in  hearts,  so  feeble  with  their  hands, 

When  guilt  and  danger  doubled  had  despaires. 

The  traitors  first,  then  all  their  trait'rous  bands 

Fled  from  a  number  lesse  by  halfe  then  theirs. 

But  to  the  bounds  of  deaths  pale  kingdome  brought, 

The  king  retyr'd  where  least  by  people  spy'd, 

More  wounded  with  ingratitude  then  ought. 

Did  leave  the  world,  whose  folly  he  had  tried ; 

The  last  divorce  which  lasts,  was  scarcely  made 

Twixt  soule  and  body  whil'st  the  eyes  grew  dim, 

When  Alexander  came  and  found  him  dead, 

Who  labour'd  had  so  long  to  ruine  him. 

And  (whil'st  his  teares  a  generall  mourning  mov'd) 

That  stately  vesture  which  himselfe  array' d, 

(Much  fear'd  for  valour,  more  for  vertue  lov'd) 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  8i 

With  his  owne  hand  on  Darius  corps  he  lay'd ; 
Then  waihng  long  as  for  a  brother  lost 
To  have  his  funerals  furnish'd  like  a  kings, 
He  bids  you  use  his  wealth,  and  spare  no  cost ; 
For,  you  shall  want  no  necessary  things. 
He  hath  his  body  hither  sent  by  me, 
And  funerall  rites  solemnly  bent  to  do, 
He  thinks  that  they  may  best  accomplish'd  be, 
Whil'st  who  him  bred  doth  see  him  buried  too. 

Cho.  Behold  how  griefe  hath  her  of  sense  bereft, 
Whil'st  breath  for  passage  strugling  is  with  grones, 
No  will,  nor  pow'r  to  live,  just  griefe  hath  left. 
Since  what  she  valued  vanish'd  is  at  once. 

Sis.  Ah!  shall  I  see  (no,  let  me  first  be  blinde) 
That  body  breathlesse,  which  I  brought  to  light? 
Where  would  my  soule  a  force  sufficient  finde 
That  could  encounter  with  so  sad  a  sight? 
O  flinty  heart!  what  hinders  thee  to  breake, 
Since  (crush'd  with  cares)  a  stranger  to  repose? 
Why  part'st  thou  not  (poore  soule)  that  whil'st  I  speake 
In  opening  of  my  lips,  mine  eyes  may  close? 
This  heritage  of  death,  this  wither'd  stocke 
Is  but  a  place  appointed  for  despaires, 
A  torture  to  it  selfe,  a  stumbling  block, 
Whose  aged  furrows  fertile  are  in  cares. 
Once  for  good  fortunes,  now  for  bad  design'd, 
(To  state  betray'd)  drawne  forth  from  calme  repose. 
To  have  beene  happie  most  afflicts  my  minde, 
Who,  rais'd  to  fall,  got  much,  the  more  to  lose. 
Ah  me !  malitious  fates  have  done  me  wrong. 
Who  first  come  to  the  world,  should  first  depart, 

VOL.    II.  G 


82  Stirling's  Poems. 

And  ah!  why  should  the  old  o're-live  the  yong? 
This  Nature  wrongs  by  a  prepost'rous  art  \ 
Ah!  why  should  death  so  indiscreet  be  found 
To  spare  a  caitive,  and  to  spoyle  a  prince? 
My  halfe-dead  body,  bending  to  the  ground, 
Through  griefe  is  grown  ripe  for  the  grave  long  since. 

Chorus. 

What  makes  vaine  worldlings  so  to  swell  with  pride, 
Who  come  of  th'  earth,  and  soone  to  th'  earth  returned 
"  So  heUish  furies  with  their  fire-brands  burne 
"  Proud  and  ambitious  men,  that  they  divide 
"  Them  from  themselves,  and  so  turmoyle  their  mindes, 
''  That  all  their  time  they  study  still 
"  How  to  content  a  boundlesse  will, 
"  Which  never  yet  a  full  contentment  findes; 
"  Who  so  this  flame  within  his  bosome  smothers, 
'•'  He  many  fancies  doth  contrive, 
"  And  even  forgets  himselfe  alive, 
"  To  be  remembered  after  death  by  others; 
"  Thus  while  he  is,  his  paines  are  never  ended, 
"  That  whir  St  he  is  not,  he  may  be  commended." 

What  can  this  help  the  happinesse  of  kings 

So  to  subdue  their  neighbours  as  they  do? 

And  make  strange  nations  tributaries  too  ? 

"  The  greater  state,  the  greater  trouble  brings;" 

Their  pompes  and  triumphs  stand  them  in  no  stead ; 

Their  arches,  tcunbes,  pyramides  high. 

And  statues  are  but  vanity : 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  83 

They  dye,  and  yet  would  live  in  what  is  dead ; 

And  while  they  live,  we  see  their  glorious  actions 

Oft  wrested  to  the  worst,  and  all  their  life 

Is  but  a  stage  of  endlesse  toyle,  and  strife, 

Of  tumults,  uproares,  mutinies,  and  factions ; 

"  They  rise  with  feare,  and  lye  with  danger  downe, 

"  Huge  are  the  cares  which  wait  upon  a  crowne/' 

And  as  ambition  princes  under-mynes ; 

So  doth  it  those  who  under  them  rule  all : 

We  see  in  how  short  time  they  rise  and  fall, 

How  oft  their  light  ecclips'd  but  dimmely  shines ; 

They  long  time  labour  by  all  meanes  to  move 

Their  prince  to  value  much  their  parts, 

And  when  ad  vane' d  by  subtle  arts, 

O  what  a  danger  is  't  to  be  above ! 

For,  straight  expos'd  to  hatred,  and  despight, 

With  all  their  skill  they  cannot  march  so  even ; 

But  some  opprobrious  scandall  will  be  given : 

For  all  men  envy  them  who  have  most  might ; 

"  And  if  the  king  dislike  them  once,  then  straight 

"  The  wretched  courtiers  fall  with  their  owne  weight." 

Some  of  a  sprite  more  poore,  who  would  be  prais'd, 
And  yet  have  nought  for  which  to  be  esteem' d, 
What  they  are  not  in  deed  would  faine  be  deem'd, 
And  indirectly  labour  to  be  rais'd. 
This  crue  each  pubUcke  place  of  honour  haunts, 
And  (changing  garments  every  day) 
Whil'st  they  would  hide,  do  but  bewray 
With  outward  ornaments  their  inward  wants ; 


84  Stirling's  Poems. 

And  men  of  better  judgement  justly  loath 
Those,  who  in  outward  shows  place  all  their  care, 
And  decke  their  bodies,  whil'st  their  mindes  are  bare, 
Like  to  a  shadow,  or  a  painted  cloth, 

The  multitude  which  but  th'  apparrell  notes, 
Doth  homage,  not  to  them,  but  to  their  cotes. 

Yet  princes  must  be  served,  and  with  all  sorts : 
Some  both  to  do,  and  counsell  what  is  best, 
Some  serve  for  cyphers  to  set  out  the  rest. 
Like  life-lesse  pictures  which  adorne  the  ports; 
"  Faire  palaces  replenish'd  are  with  feares, 
"  Those  seeming  pleasures  are  but  snares, 
"  The  royall  robe  doth  cover  cares ; 
"  Th'  Assyrian  dye  deare  buys  he  who  it  beares ; 
"  Those  dainty  delicates,  and  farre-fetch'd  food, 
"  Oft  (through  suspition)  savour  out  of  season, 
"  Embrodred  beds,  and  tapestries  hatch  treason; 
"  The  golden  goblets  mingled  are  with  bloud. 

"  Such   shows   the   shadows   are   when   greatnesse 
shines, 

"  Whose  state  by  them  the  gazing  world  divines." 

O  happie  he  who  farre  from  fame  at  home. 

Securely  sitting  by  a  quiet  fire, 

(Though  having  little)  doth  not  more  desire. 

But  first  himselfe,  then  all  things  doth  o'ercome; 

His  purchase  weigh' d,  or  what  his  parents  left. 

He  squares  his  charges  to  his  store, 

And  takes  not  what  he  must  restore. 

Nor  eates  the  spoyles  that  from  the  poore  were  Jeft: 


The  Tragedy  of  Darius.  85 

Not  proud,  nor  base,  he  (scorning  creeping  art) 

From  jealous  thoughts  and  envy  free, 

No  poyson  feares  in  cups  of  tree; 

No  treason  harbours  in  so  poore  a  part : 

No  heavy  dreame  doth  vex  him  when  he  sleeps, 
"  A  guiltlesse  minde  the  guardlesse  cottage  keeps." 

He  doth  not  studie  much  what  stormes  may  blow, 
Whose  poverty  can  hardly  be  impair'd; 
He  fears  no  forraine  force,  nor  craves  no  guard ; 
None  doth  desire  his  spoyle,  none  looks  so  low. 
Whereas  the  great  are  commonly  once  crost, 
As  Darius  hath  beene  in  his  flowre. 
Or  Sisiga7nbis  at  this  houre, 
Who  hath  scap'd  long,  and  now  at  length  is  lost : 
But  how  comes  thisj  that  potentates  oft  fall, 
And  must  confesse  this  trouble  of  their  soule? 
There  is  some  higher  pow'r  that  can  controull, 
The  monarchs  of  the  earth,  and  censure  all : 
Who  once  will  call  their  actions  to  account, 
And  them  represse  who  to  oppresse  were  prompt. 


THE 


ALEXANDRIAN    TRAGEDY. 


THE    ARGUMENT. 

When  Alexander  the  Great,  after  all  his  conquests  (shining  with 
the  glory  of  innumerable  victories)  was  returned  backe  to 
Babylon,  where  the  Ambassadours  of  the  whole  world  did  attend 
his  coming,  as  one  who  was  expected  to  command  over  all :  there, 
being  admired  by  the  Grecians,  adored  by  the  Barbarians,  and 
as  it  were  drank  with  the  delights  of  an  extraordinary  prosperity, 
he  suffered  himselfe  to  be  transported  with  an  inundation  of 
pleasure ;  till,  sitting  at  one  of  his  feasts  by  the  meanes  of  the 
Sonne  oi  Antipater,  one  of  his  cup-bearers,  in  the  best  both  of 
his  age  and  fortune,  he  was  suddenly  poysoned. 

Incontinent  after  his  death,  those  who  were  in  greatest  estima- 
tion with  himselfe  during  his  life,  and  then  with  the  Armie, 
assembled  themselves  together,  neglecting  for  a  long  time  his 
funerals,  whilest  busied  about  the  disposing  of  his  empire  :  at  last 
(after  divers  opinions)  it  was  concluded,  that  if  Roxane,  the  widow 
of  their  Soveraigne,  (who  was  then  at  the  point  to  be  delivered  of 
her  birth)  happened  to  beare  a  sonue,  he  should  succeed  in  his 
fathers  place,  and  till  he  were  come  to  some  maturity  of  age, 
Ferdiccas,  Leonatus,  Crater  us,  and  Antipater  were  appointed  to 
be  his  tutors :  But  the  foot-men  in  a  disdaine,  that  their  advice 
was  not  required,  proclaimed  Arideits,  Alexanders  bastard  brother, 
king,  and  gave  him  a  guard,  of  which  J\Ieleager  procured  himselfe 
to  be  made  captaine.  At  this  sudden  alteration,  the  horse-men 
being  troubled,  following  Perdiccas,  pitched  their  camp  without 
the  city,  yet  in  the  end,  this  tumult  being  by  the  eloquence  of 
Perdiccas  appeased,  all  the  captains  re-assembled  themselves,  and 
having  divided  the  provinces,  made  an  agreement,  which  lasted 
not  long. 

For,  such  was  the  vehement  ambition  of  those  great  men,  that 
with  all  manner  of  hostility,  they  studied  how  to  undemiine  one 
another,  and  first  of  all  Meleager  after  a  pretended  reconciliation 
(though  having  fled  to  a  temple  for  refuge)  was  slaine  by  the 


The  Argument.  89 

appointment  of  Perdkcas,  who  (after  aspiring  to  a  superiority  over 
the  rest)  whilest  he  went  to  warre  against  Ptolomie  in  u^gypt,  by 
a  sudden  mutiny  of  his  owne  souldiers,  was  miserably  murdered. 
Then  the  onely  captaine  of  his  faction  who  remained  alive, 
was  Eumenes,  a  man  singularly  valorous,  who  encountring  with 
Craterns  and  Neoptolemus,  by  the  death  of  themselves  defeated 
their  army,  whereby  being  highly  advanced,  he  was  greatly 
envied:  and  {Leonatiis  having  lately  before  dyed  in  a  conflict 
betwixt  him  and  the  Athenians).  Antig07ius  in  the  name  of  the 
rest,  was  sent  against  him  with  a  great  army,  betwixt  whom 
there  having  passed  divers  skirmishes  with  a  variable  successe,  and 
some  private  conference  without  agi-eement :  In  the  end  he  was 
betrayed  by  his  o^vne  souldiers,  and  delivered  bound  to  Antigonus, 
who  shortly  after  caused  to  take  his  life. 

Then  Antigomis  (his  rivals  in  the  authoritie  being  removed  out 
of  his  way)  did  aspire  to  that  himselfe,  from  which  he  was  sent  to 
seclude  others,  and  having  murdered  divers  of  the  govemours,  he 
disposed  of  their  Provinces  as  he  pleased :  whereof  Cassandcr, 
Ptolomie,  and  Lysiniachus,  advertised  by  Seletiats,  who  fled  for 
feare  of  incurring  the  like  danger;  did  enter  together  in  a  league 
against  Antigonus. 

Now  at  this  time  Olympias  plagued  all  the  faction  of  Cassandcr 
in  Maccdonie,  having  caused  Arideus  and  his  Queen  Eurydice  to 
be  put  to  death ;  by  which,  and  by  some  other  craelties  (having 
lost  the  favour  of  the  people)  she  was  constrained,  when  Cassander 
came  against  her,  to  retyre  herselfe  within  a  town;  which  (by 
reason  of  the  scarcitie  of  victuals  (not  being  able  to  defend)  she 
rendered,  together  with  herselfe  to  Cassander,  by  whom  notwith- 
standing of  his  promise  to  the  contrary)  she  was  violently  deprived 
of  life,  and  so  having  proceeded  so  farre  in  wickednesse,  he  thought 
it  no  time  to  retyre  till  he  had  extingiiished  all  his  master's  race; 
whereupon  he  caused  Roxane  and  her  sonne  to  be  murthered,  and 
soone  after,  Hercules,  Alexanders  bastard  sonne;  which  multitude 
of  murthers,  gave  to  him  the  crowne  of  Macedonie,  and  to  me  the 
subject  of  Polytragicke  Tragedie. 


THE   PERSONS   NAMES   WHO   SPEAKE. 


The  Ghost  <?/"  Alexander. 
Olympias,  his  Mother. 
Roxane,  his  Wife. 
Aristotle,  his  Master-. 
Phocion,  his  old  Friend. 
Philastrus,  a  Chaldean. 
Chorus. 


f  Perdiccas. 
Meleager. 
Ptolomie. 
Antigonus. 

EUMENES. 

Lysimachus. 
Seleucus. 
(^Cassander. 


his  greatest 
Captaines. 


THE 


ALEXANDRIAN    TRAGEDY. 


ACT    I. 

The  Ghost  ^/Alexander  the  Great. 

Back  from  th'  umbragious  caves  (still  rob'd  of  rest) 

Must  I  returne,  where  Phcebns  glides  the  fields, 

A  ghost  not  worthy  to  be  Fluids  guest, 

Since  one  to  whom  the  world  no  buriall  yeelds? 

O  what  a  great  disgrace  is  this  to  me, 

Whose  trophees  fame  in  many  a  kingdom  keeps. 

That  I  (contemn'd)  cannot  transported  be 

A  passenger  for  the  sulphurean  deeps  1 

Dare  churlish  Charon  (though  not  us'd  to  bow) 

The  raging  torrent  of  my  wrath  gain-stand? 

Must  I  succumbe  amidst  hells  dungeons  now, 

Though  all  the  world  accustom'd  to  command? 

But  it  may  be  that  this  hath  wrought  me  harme, 

What  bloudlesse  ghosts  do  stray  on  Stygian  banks, 

Whose  falls  (made  famous  by  my  fatail  arme) 

Gave  terrour  oft  to  many  martiall  ranks'? 

Yet  (for  a  prey  expos' d  to  ravenous  beasts) 


92  Stirling'' s  Poems. 

Could  never  have  the  honour  of  a  tombe; 

But  (though  for  such  rude  guests  too  pretious  feasts) 

Were  basely  buried  in  a  brutish  wombe. 

Thus  (as  it  seemes)  the  horrour  of  such  deeds, 

With  like  indignity  attends  my  sprite; 

What  stormy  breast  this  thirst  of  vengeance  breeds, 

To  plague  for  that  which  valour  did  acquite  1 

Ah!  might  Alcmends  sonne  (as  sonne  oi love) 

Once  force  the  driery  forts  of  endlesse  night, 

To  match  sterne  Dis  in  the  Tartarian  grove, 

And  draw  forth  foaming  Cerberus  to  light? 

Then  leading  Theseus  through  the  dungeons  darke, 

A  second  rape  aym'd  for  their  ravish'd  queene. 

Durst  he  (hells  terrour)  force  the  fatall  barke. 

By  squadrons  pale  (an  envi'd  victor)  scene "? 

And  in  my  rage  may  I  not  tosse  this  round. 

Till  roaring  earthquakes  all  the  world  affright, 

Heaven  stain'd,  hell  clear'd,  earth  torne,  all  to  confound 

Enlightning  darknesse,  or  else  darkning  light? 

What,  though  I  from  terrestrial  regions  swerve, 

Whom  in  this  state  (it  may  be)  some  mistake? 

May  not  the  voyce  of  Alexander  serve 

To  make  th'  earth  tremble,  and  the  depths  to  shake? 

Or,  straight  return'd,  shall  I  my  fortune  trust, 

And  th'  earth  dispeople,  slaughtring  scatter'd  hosts; 

Then  Pluto  plague,  all  charg'd  with  bloud  and  dust, 

When  men  are  kill'd  to  be  a  king  of  ghosts? 

O  how  I  burst  to  thinke  how  some  above. 

Who  for  their  glory  did  my  steps  attend, 

My  offsprings  title  proudly  do  disprove. 

And  to  my  chaire  by  violence  ascend : 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  93 

"  Ingratitude  doth  grieve  a  generous  sprite," 
Would  God  therefore  that  with  a  body  stor'd, 
I  might  returne  these  traitours  to  acquite, 
My  back  with  amies,  my  hand  charg'd  with  a  sword : 
As  when  I  entred  in  a  populous  towne, 
To  warre  alone  with  thousands  in  my  wrath, 
Whil'st  (prizing  honour  dearer  then  my  crowne) 
Each  of  my  blows  gave  wounds,  each  wound  gave 

death : 
Then  thundring  vengeance  on  rebellious  bands, 
I  would  make  them  redeeme  my  grace  with  grones, 
Where  now  my  ghost  (empall'd  with  horror)  stands, 
Lesse  grac'd  then  those  whom  I  commanded  once ; 
And  yet  the  glory  by  those  captaines  had, 
Whom  first  my  ensignes  did  acquaint  with  fame, 
Doth  make  my  soule  (whil'st  hating  them)  more  sad, 
Then  all  the  suff'rings  that  the  hells  can  claime. 
O  now  I  see  what  all  my  minions  blindes, 
To  grace  my  funerals  that  they  take  no  paine ! 
My  state  (betraying  me)  distracts  their  mindes. 
Who  have  forgot  all  love,  save  love  to  raigne, 
But  Ptolomie  doth  yet  by  time  intend 
To  Alexandria  to  transport  me  once, 
Not  niov'd  by  love,  no,  for  another  end. 
In  hope  my  fortune  will  attend  my  bones. 
And  must  I  then  so  great  a  trouble  have 
(To  whom  the  earth  did  all  belong  before) 
For  some  few  foots  of  earth  to  be  a  grave, 
Which  meane  men  get,  and  great  men  get  no  more? 
Though  many  thousand  at  my  signe  did  bow. 
Is  this  the  end  or  all  my  conquests  then 


94  Stirlmg's  Poatis. 

To  be  thus  barr'd  that  Uttle  circuit  now, 

A  benefit  even  common  unto  men? 

But  of  those  kingdomes  which  were  thrall  to  me, 

Lest  that  a  little  part  my  body  bound, 

Th'  earth  arch'd  with  heaven  my  fatall  bed  should  be, 

Still  unconfin'd,  and  even  when  dead,  yet  crown'd. 

O  bhnde  ambition !  great  mindes  viprous  brood. 

The  scourge  of  raankinde,  and  the  foe  to  rest, 

Thou  guilty  art  of  many  millions  bloud, 

And  whil'st  I  raign'd,  didst  raigne  within  my  brest; 

This  to  my  soule  but  small  contentment  brings, 

That  I  some  cities  rear'd,  and  others  raz'd : 

And  made  kings  captives ;  captives  to  be  kings, 

Then  whil'st  the  wond'ring  world  did  stand  amaz'd. 

All  that  doth  now  but  torture  after  death, 

Which  rais'd  my  fame  on  pillars  more  then  rare ; 

0  costly  conquest  of  a  little  breath, 

Whose  flattring  sounds  both  go  and  come  with  th'  aire ! 

Can  I  be  he  who  thought  it  a  disgrace 

To  be  but  weigh' d  with  other  mortals  even, 

Who  would  be  held  of  an  immortall  race. 

The  off-spring  of  great  love,  the  heire  of  heaven  1 

By  many  meanes  I  all  mens  mindes  did  move, 

For  altars  (as  a  God)  with  off'rings  stor'd, 

Till  of  his  glory  love  did  jealous  prove : 

"  All  kings  should  reverenc'd  be,  but  not  ador'd." 

Ah !  whil'st  (transported  with  a  prosp'rous  state) 

1  toil'd  to  raise  my  throne  above  the  starres. 
The  thund'rer  straight  (who  still  doth  pride  abate) 
Did  wound  my  fame  with  most  infamous  warres. 
Made  I  not  grave  Calistenes  to  smart, 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  95 

Who  did  disdaine  a  mortall  to  adore, 

(What  knowne  unknowing)  bent  by  fooHsh  art, 

Though  but  a  man  to  be  imagin'd  more? 

All  fear'd  the  danger  of  my  roaring  wrath, 

(Like  lyons  when  asleep)  which  none  durst  wake ; 

My  fury  was  the  messenger  of  death, 

Which  when  enflam'd,  made  flaming  squadrons  quake: 

Ambition  did  so  farre  my  thoughts  engage. 

That  I  could  not  abide  my  fathers  praise, 

But  (though  my  friend)  kill'd  Clitus  in  a  rage, 

Who  Philips  fame  durst  in  my  presence  raise. 

Thus  though  that  I  mine  enemies  did  abate, 

I  made  my  greatest  friends  become  my  foes. 

Who  did  my  insolence  (as  barbarous  hate) 

And  for  the  like  afraid  wail'd  others  woes. 

Those  tyrannies  which  thousands  chanc'd  to  see 

As  inhumane  a  multitude  admir'd; 

And  my  familiars  strangers  growne  with  me, 

As  from  a  tyrant  for  distrust  retyr'd: 

Yea,  there  were  many  too  who  did  conspire 

By  base  ambushments  to  have  snar'd  my  life, 

Of  all  my  labours,  loe,  this  was  the  hire ! 

"  Those  must  have  store  of  toils  who  toile  for  strife," 

And  I  remember  that  amid'st  my  joyes, 

(Even  whir  St  the  chase  of  armies  was  my  sport) 

There  wanted  not  a  number  of  annoyes 

To  counter-poise  my  pleasures  in  some  sort. 

"  Of  those  on  the  earth  most  happy  that  remaine, 

"  (As  ag'd  experience  constantly  records) 

"  The  pleasures  farre  exceeded  are  by  paine : 

"  Life  greater  griefe  then  comfort  still  affords." 


g6  Stirling' s  Poems. 

What  griefe,  no,  rather  rage  did  seize  my  soule. 

Whil'st  bigge  with  hopes  a  battell  bent  to  prove ! 

That  sudden  sicknesse  did  my  course  controuU, 

Which  (cold  when  kinde)  embracing  iiouds  did  move !  * 

From  the  physician  then  (though  deem'd  for  ill) 

I  took  his  potion,  gave  him  scandalous  lines; 

Then  whil'st  he  red  did  drinke,  yet  ey'd  him  still, 

And  by  accusing  looks  sought  guilty  signes; 

Not  that  suspitious  feares  could  make  me  sad, 

This  was  the  ground  whence  did  proceed  my  paine, 

Lest  death  my  victory  prevented  had : 

For,  I  was  sure  still  where  I  sought  to  gaine, 

But  when  that  I  extended  had  my  state 

From  learned  Athens  to  the  barbarous  Indes, 

Still  my  tumultuous  troups  my  pride  did  hate, 

As  monstrous  mutinies  unmask'd  their  mindes. 

I  (so  my  name  more  wonderfull  to  make) 

Of  Hercules,  and  Bacchus  past  the  bounds. 

And  (whil'st  that   Memnons   sunne-burnt   bands   did 

quake) 
Did  write  my  worth  in  many  a  monarchs  wounds. 
Kings  were  my  subjects,  and  my  servants  kings, 
Yet  my  contentment  further  did  require, 
For,  I  imagin'd  still  more  mighty  things. 
And  to  a  greater  greatnesse  did  aspire. 
The  spatious  carriere  of  the  speedy  sunne, 
(All  quickly  thrall'd)  like  lightning  I  o're-ran : 
Yet  wept,  and  wish'd  more  worlds  t'  have  been  wonne, 
As  this  had  wanted  roome  to  ease  one  man, 
No  wonder  I  was  thought  a  god  by  some, 
*  "  Which  Lidnus  cold  embracings  chanc'd  to  moue." — 1604. 


The  Akxandrcean  Tragedy.  97 

Since  all  my  aymes  (though  high  as  heaven)  prevail'd, 

And  what  man  (save  my  selfe)  did  still  o're-come  ? 

Of  all  my  fancies,  never  project  fail'd. 

This  made  me  thought  immortaliz'd  to  be, 

Which  in  all  mindes  amazement  yet  contracts : 

I  led  blinde  fortune,  and  she  courted  me, 

As  glad  to  grace  the  greatnesse  of  my  acts. 

Yet  I  have  found  it  a  more  easie  thing, 

To  conquer  all  whereon  the  sunne  ere  shin'd. 

Then  mine  owne  selfe,  and  (of  my  passions  king) 

To  calme  the  tumults  of  a  stormy  minde. 

What  comfort  justly  could  my  soule  receive 

Of  all  my  conquests  past,  if  that  even  then 

Whil'st  I  triumph'd  (to  wrath  and  wine  a  slave) 

I  scap'd  not  scandall  more  then  other  men ; 

Ah !  (seazing  without  right  on  every  state) 

I  but  my  selfe  too  great  a  monarch  made, 

Since  all  men  gap'd  to  get  the  golden  bait 

Which  by  my  death  seem'd  easie  to  be  had; 

Whil'st  from  humanity  too  much  divorc'd. 

My  deeds  all  hearts  with  feare,  and  horrour  fill'd, 

I  who  by  foes  could  never  have  beene  forc'd. 

By  friends  did  fall,  yet  not  over-com'd,  but  kill'd. 

But  now  I  see  the  troublous  time  draws  neare. 

When  they  shall  keep  my  obsequies  with  bloud : 

No  wonder  too,  though  such  a  warriours  beere. 

At  last  doth  swimme  amidst  a  scarlet  floud  : 

For,  as  my  life  did  breed  huge  broils  o're  all. 

My  death  must  be  the  cause  of  monstrous  cumbers. 

And  it  doth  best  become  a  strong  mans  fall. 

To  be  renown' d  by  ruining  of  numbers. 

VOL.    II.  H 


98  Stirling's  Poems. 

The  snake-tress' d  sisters  now  shall  never  need 
Their  fatall  fire-brands,  loathsome  Pluto's  pests, 
Nor  inspirations  strange  whose  rage  doth  breed 
A  thirst  of  murther  in  transported  brests. 
Ambitions  flames  may  from  my  ashes  shine 
To  burne  my  minions  mindes  with  high  desires, 
Each  of  their  sprits  that  hath  a  spark  of  mine. 
To  ruine  all  the  world,  may  furnish  fires. 
The  beauties  of  the  earth  shall  all  look  red, 
Whil'st  my  lievtenants  through  that  pride  of  theirs, 
With  armes  unkinde  huge  streames  of  bloud  do  shed, 
By  murthering  of  my  heires,  to  be  my  heires. 
Is  this  that  greatnesse  which  I  did  designe, 
By  being  eminent,  to  be  o'rethrowne. 
To  ruine  first  my  selfe,  then  root  out  mine ; 
As  conquering  others,  but  to  lose  mine  owne? 

0  happie  I,  more  happie  farre  my  race ! 

If  pleas'd  with  that  which  was  our  ancient  rent, 

1  manag'd  had  th'  .■EnKxthian  power  in  peace, 
Which  was  made  lawfuU  by  a  long  discent : 
Then  farre  sequestred  from  BelloJids  rage, 

I  had  the  true  delights  of  nature  tri'd, 

And  ag'd  with  honour,  honour'd  in  my  age, 

Had  left  my  sonne  secure  before  I  dy'd; 

And  he  inheriting  a  quiet  state 

(Which  then  because  lesse  great  had  beene  more  sure) 

Had  (free  from  envy)  not  beene  harm'd  by  hate, 

Which  of  most  states  the  ruine  doth  procure; 

But  since  they  will  en-earth  my  earthly  part, 

Which  now  no  badge  of  majestic  retaines, 

To  roaring  Phlegeton  I  must  depart 


The  Alexandrmaii  Tragedy.  99 

Farre  from  the  lightsome  bounds  of  th'  aiery  plaines, 

And  must  I  there  who  did  the  world  surmount 

(Arrested  by  the  monarch  of  the  ghosts) 

To  Rhadamanthus  render  an  account 

Of  all  the  deeds  done  by  my  ravenous  hosts'? 

There  whil'st  with  Minos  ^Eacus  sits  downe, 

A  rigorous  judge  in  hels  most  horrid  court, 

With  me  who  passe  his  nephew  in  renowne, 

(Though  of  his  race)  he  no  way  will  comport. 

O  what  pale  ghosts  are  here  together  brought, 

Which  were  of  bodies  spoil'd  by  my  decree ! 

And  first  Parnienio  without  whom  I  nought 

But  who  did  many  great  things  without  me : 

At  the  tribunal  of  Tartariafi  pow'rs, 

He  aggravates  ingratitude  too  great, 

And  (whil'st  the  raging  tyrant  foaming  lowres) 

All  whom  I  wrong' d,  for  vengence  do  entreat : 

Yet  guilty  thoughts  torment  me  most  of  all, 

No  spirit  can  be  by  plaguing  furies  pin'd, 

(Though  charg'd  without  with  snakes,  within  with  gall) 

As  by  the  stings  of  a  remording  minde. 

If  it  be  true  that  drowsie  Lcthcs  streames 

In  darke  oblivion  drowne  all  things  at  last, 

There,  let  me  bury  farre  from  Phoebus  beames. 

The  loath'd  remembrance  of  my  labours  past.     {Exit. 

Chorus, 

What  strange  adventures  now 

Distract  distressed  mindes 

With  such  most  monstrous  formes? 


I  oo  Stirling's  Poems. 

When  silence  doth  allow 

The  peace  that  nature  findes, 

And  that  tumultuous  windes 

Do  not  disturbe  with  stormes 

An  universall  rest : 

When  Morpheus  hath  represt 

Th'  impetuous  waves  of  cares, 

And  with  a  soft  sleepe  bindes, 

Those  tyrants  of  the  brest, 

Which  would  spread  forth  most  dangerous  snares, 

To  sink  affliction  in  despaires : 

Huge  horrours  then  arise 

The  elements  to  marre, 

With  most  disastrous  signes : 

Arm'd  squadrons  in  the  skies, 

With  lances  throwne  from  farre, 

Do  make  a  monstrous  warre, 

Whil'st  furie  nought  confines : 

The  dragons  vomit  fire, 

And  make  the  starres  retire 

Out  of  their  orbes  for  feare, 

To  satisfie  their  ire, 

Which  heavens  high  buildings  not  forbear, 

But  seem  the  crystall  towres  to  teare ; 

Amidst  the  ayre,  fierce  blasts 

Doe  boast  with  blustring  sounds. 

To  crush  this  mighty  frame, 

Which  (whilst  the  tempest  lasts) 

Doth  rent  the  stately  rounds. 

To  signifie  what  wounds 

To  all  her  off-springs  shame 


The  Alexandrian  Tragedy.  loi 

Shall  burst  th'  earths  veynes  with  bloud, 

And  this  all-circling  floud, 

(As  it  the  heavens  would  drowne) 

Doth  passe  the  bounding  bounds, 

And  all  the  scalie  brood, 

Reare  roaring  Neptiines  foamie  crowne, 

Whilst  th'  earth  for  feare  seems  to  sinke  downe, 

Those  whom  it  hid  with  horrour! 

Their  ashy  lodgings  leave, 

To  re-enjoy  the  light, 

Or  else  some  panicke  terrour 

Our  judgement  doth  bereave. 

Whilst  first  we  misconceive, 
And  so  prejudge  the  sight; 

Or,  in  the  bodies  stead. 

The  genius  of  the  dead 

Turnes  backe  from  Styx  againe, 

Which  Dis  will  not  receive, 

Till  it  a  time  engendring  dread, 

Plague  (whilst  it  doth  on  th'  earth  remaine) 

All  else  with  feare,  it  selfe  with  paine. 

These  fearefull  signes  fore-show 

(All  nations  to  appall) 

What  plagues  are  to  succeed. 

Since  death  hath  lay'd  him  low. 

Who  first  had  made  us  thrall. 

We  heard  that  straight  his  fall 

Our  hberty  would  breed; 

But  this  proves  no  reliefe; 

For  many  (O  what  griefe  !) 

The  place  of  one  supply; 


I02  Stirling's  Poems. 


And  we  must  sufifer  all ; 
Thus  was  our  comfort  briefe : 
O !  rarely  doe  usurpers  dye, 
But  others  will  their  fortune  try. 


ACT    II.      SCENE   I. 

Ferdiccas,  Mekager,  Ftolomie,  Antigonus,  Etimenes. 

Per.  What  eye  (not  big  with  teares)  can  view  this 
host, 
Which  hath  in  one  (ah,  as  the  end  doth  prove) 
A  king,  a  captaine,  and  a  brother,  lost, 
Crown' d,  follow'd,  try'd,  by  right,  for  worth,  in  love? 
I  thinke  amongst  us  all,  there  is  not  one, 
Whom  divers  favours  doe  not  justly  binde 
To  please  that  Heroes  ghost  (though  from  us  gone) 
With  all  the  ofif'rings  of  a  thankefull  minde. 
Ah,  had  the  fates  beene  subject  to  my  will, 
So  great  a  losse  should  not  have  crost  our  life; 
But  we  had  kept  great  Alexander  still, 
And  he  those  kingdomes  which  procure  this  strife. 
"  Yet  heavens  decrees  can  never  be  recall'd, 
"  And  thoughts  of  harme  past  helpe,  breed  double 

paine, 
"  Though  once  to  griefe  a  space,  by  passions  thrall'd, 
"  The  living  must  embrace  the  world  againe." 
As  one  whose  intrest  in  that  prince  was  chiefe, 
A  sorrow  singular  my  soule  affects, 
But  I  will  not  defraud  the  generall  griefe, 
To  waile  a-part  particular  respects. 


The  Alexandrian  Tragedy.  103 

Though  all  the  ayre  still  ecchoes  plaintive  sounds 
Of  widow'd  hopes  now  wedded  to  despaires, 
Yet  time  must  cicatrize  our  inward  wounds, 
And  to  the  publike  good  draw  private  cares. 
Let  us  give  physicke  to  the  sickned  state, 
Which  at  this  present  in  great  danger  stands, 
Whilst  grudging  subjects  that  our  greatnesse  hate, 
By  bloud  would  venge  their  violated  lands. 
"  Those  who  by  force  are  thrall'd,  to  be  made  free, 
"  Precipitate  themselves  in  dangers  still, 
"  And  this  of  nature  seemes  a  rule  to  be : 
"  What  realme  not  scornes  to  serve  a  strangers  willl 
"  From  forc'd  obedience,  nought  but  hate  proceeds; 
"  The  more  we  have  subdu'd,  the  more  our  foes : " 
A  soveraigne  head  this  states  huge  body  needs. 
That  might  make  us  securely  to  repose: 
And  who  more  meet  to  have  that  great  mans  place, 
Of  those  whose  states  he  tooke  who  gain'd  the  hearts, 
Then  one  descended  from  that  regall  race, 
Whose  birth  both  worth  and  right  to  raigne  imparts? 
If  heavens  enrich  Roxane  with  a  sonne, 
That  long'd-for  birth  a  lawfull  soveraigne  brings. 
And  till  that  course  of  doubtfull  hopes  be  runne, 
Let  some  be  nam'd  who  manage  may  all  things. 
Anti.  The  Macedonians  (swolne  with  wrath)  would 
scorne, 
That  to  their  king  a  stranger  should  succeed : 
Can  men  obey  a  babe,  a  babe  not  borne? 
What  fancies  strange  would  this  confusion  breed? 
This  could  not  well  become  our  grave  foresight, 
A  doubtfull  birth  so  long  t'  attend,  in  vaine. 


I04  Stirling's  Poems. 

Which  may  abortive  be,  and  brought  to  lights 
(Through  natures  errour)  made  not  apt  to  raigne. 
But  if  affection  carry  us  so  farre, 
That  of  that  race  we  must  be  rul'd  by  some, 
Though  neither  train'd  by  time  in  peace,  nor  warre. 
As  those  who  must  indeed  by  kinde  o're-come : 
Then  have  we  Hercules  the  eldest  sonne, 
To  our  great  prince  by  faire  Barsincs  borne, 
Who  fourteene  yeares  of  age,  hath  now  begun 
His  princely  birth  by  vertue  to  adorne. 

Ptol.  To  thinke  of  this,  it  makes  my  soule  asham'd. 
That  we  should  serve  a  base  barbarians  brood, 
What?  should  we  beare  the  yoke  that  we  have  fram'd? 
To  buy  disgrace,  have  we  bestow' d  our  bloud? 
Our  ancestors  whose  glory  we  obscur'd, 
Would  get  some  vantage  of  their  offspring  thus : 
That  peoples  bondage  they  would  have  procur'd, 
And  have  we  warr'd  to  make  them  lords  o're  us? 
Ah,  bury  this  as  a  most  odious  thing, 
AVhich  may  bring  danger,  and  must  breed  our  scorne. 
Though  (in  effect)  descended  from  our  king. 
They  (come  of  captives)  are  but  basely  borne. 
O !  brave  Leouidcs,  I  like  thy  strife. 
Who  with  so  few  perform'd  so  glorious  things, 
And  death  preferr'd  before  th'  infamous  life, 
Which  bondage  still  from  a  barbarian  brings. 
Those  (loath  to  take  a  stranger  for  their  lord) 
Did  with  their  bloud  renowne  a  forraigne  field, 
And  shall  we  honour  them  whom  they  abhorr'd, 
And  even  (though  victors)  to  the  vanquish'd  yeeld] 
To  what  did  tend  that  eminent  attempt, 


The  Alexmidraan  Tragedy.  105 

Which  makes  the  Persians  yet  abase  their  brow  % 

But  to  our  countries  scorne  (in  a  contempt) 

To  take  by  force  that  which  we  offer  now. 

Was  this  the  scope  of  all  our  conquests  then, 

Of  abject  captives  to  be  made  the  preyl 

No,  let  us  still  command  like  valorous  men, 

And  rule  our  empire  by  some  other  way. 

May  we  not  use  this  policy  a  space, 

Till  time  afford,  or  we  a  course  devise? 

Least  dangerous  discord  doe  disturbe  our  peace, 

Still  when  we  would  of  serious  things  advise; 

With  majestic  let  us  assembled  be, 

A  sacred  senate  with  a  chayre  of  state, 

That  of  the  soveraigne  pow'r  all  signes  may  see. 

Then  whilst  we  compasse  that  respected  seate : 

There  those  who  were  in  credit  with  the  king. 

Whose  merits  in  mens  mindes  have  reverence  bred, 

Shall  (weigh'd  by  judgement)  ballance  every  thing: 

How  kingdomes  should  be  rul'd,  how  armies  led ; 

"  And  what  the  greatest  part  hath  once  approv'd, 

"  To  that  the  rest  will  willingly  incline;" 

By  such  a  harmony  the  army  mov'd, 

Will  execute  whatever  we  designe. 

This  concord  would  prove  happy  for  us  all, 

Which  each  mans  state  free  from  all  danger  renders : 

And  by  this  meanes  our  Macedonie  shall 

In  place  of  one,  have  many  Alexanders. 

Ellin.  Though  silence  (I  confesse)  becomes  me  best, 
Who  am  a  stranger,  and  the  lesse  beleev'd. 
Yet  of  your  toyles  since  I  a  partner  rest, 
I  must  unfold  my  minde,  a  minde  much  griev'd : 


io6  Stirlins's  Poems, 


<b 


And  thinke  you  that  a  babe  repairs  our  losse? 

How  can  good  wits  so  grossly  be  beguil'd? 

This  in  all  countries  hath  been  thought  a  crosse : 

"  Woe  to  that  soile  whose  soveraigne  is  a  childe." 

Nor  would  these  great  men  (as  is  thought)  agree, 

They  be  too  many  bodies  for  one  minde : 

Ah  (pardon  Flolo/nie)  it  cannot  be, 

This  union  would  disjoyne  us  all  I  finde : 

Thus  would  the  army  from  good  order  swei"ve, 

"  If  many  might  forgive,  all  would  offend, 

"  As  thinking  well  though  they  did  death  deserve : 

"  No  man  so  bad,  but  some  will  him  befriend." 

And  when  so  many  kings  were  in  one  court. 

One  court  would  then  have  many  humours  too, 

Which  fostring  factions  for  each  light  report, 

Would  make  them  jarre  as  neighbouring  princes  doe; 

No,  let  this  strange  designe  be  quite  supprest, 

"  Whilst  equall  all,  all  would  unequall  be," 

So  that  their  mindes  (by  jealousie  possest) 

From  pale  suspition  never  could  be  free. 

But  ah !  what  needs  contention  at  this  time. 

To  cloud  a  matter  that  was  made  so  cleare : 

And  doe  you  now  account  it  not  a  crime. 

To  damne  his  will,  who  once  was  held  so  deare? 

When  that  great   monarch   march'd  to   match  with 

death, 
Whilst  all  his  captaines  were  assembled  there, 
And  did  demand  (whilst  he  dispos'd  of  breath) 
Whom  he  himselfe  adopted  for  his  heire : 
Then  (that  none  might  such  doubtfull  questions  breed) 
As  loving  valour  more  then  his  owne  race : 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  107 

He  (that  a  brave  man,  brave  men  might  succeed) 
Said :  let  the  worthiest  have  the  worthiest  place. 
Nor  did  he  speake  this  in  a  secret  part, 
With  double  words  which  might  more  doubt  have  mov'd, 
As  breathing  thoughts  in  each  ambitious  heart, 
To  have  his  worth  in  Vulcans  fornace  prov'd : 
For,  whil'st  ye  hedg'd  the  fatall  bed  about, 
(With  an  unpartiall  care  distracted  long) 
Then  he  amongst  you  all  did  chuse  one  out, 
Who  for  so  great  a  charge  did  seeme  most  strong. 
He  to  Perdiccas  did  present  the  ring 
That  us'd  to  scale  the  secrets  of  the  state, 
By  which  it  seem'd  that  he  design'd  him  king, 
And  so  would  seaze  him  of  the  regall  seat. 
Thus  made  this  worthy  man  a  worthy  choice. 
That  further  strife  might  not  the  state  deforme, 
And  all  the  world  now  justly  may  rejoyce, 
That  who  rais'd  many,  did  prevent  this  storme. 
For,  if  he  had  not  thus  declar'd  his  will, 
Yee  {Mars  his  minions)  should  have  liv'd  at  jarres : 
Whil'st  emulation  amongst  equals  still, 
Had  made  sterne  trumpets  thunder  civill  warres ; 
What  huge  disorders  threatned  to  burst  forth. 
If  that  our  soveraigne  had  no  prince  design'd. 
Who  oft  hath  beene  a  witnesse  of  our  worth. 
And  can  weigh  vertue  in  a  vertuous  minde? 
I  see  consenting  signes  applaud  my  speech : 
Rise,  doe,  Perdiccas,  that  which  they  decree, 
Whil'st  modesty  doth  majesty  impeach. 
Though   thou   crav'st   not  this   crowne,  this  crowne 
craves  thee. 


io8  Stirling's  Poems. 

Mel.  I  wonder  not  though  thus  Perdiccas  shrinke, 
To  take  this  place,  still  brag'd  with  new  alarmes : 
The  sunne  must  make  nights  ugly  bird  to  winke : 
This  scepter  weighs,  too  much  for  so  weake  armes. 
The  gods  will  never  grant,  nor  men  agree, 
That  such  a  one  should  tyrannize  o're  us : 
Though  vulgar  mindes  might  yeeld  his  thralls  to  be, 
His  betters  scorne  to  bow  so  basely  thus. 
He  would  have  us  Roxanes  birth  t'  attend. 
Which  though  it  come  to  passe  as  some  expect, 
He  can  exchange,  or  cause  be  brought  to  end, 
As  bent  to  like  all  meanes,  when  one  effect. 
Thus  would  he  temporize  to  our  great  scorne, 
Till  time  might  helpe  to  further  his  designes : 
No  kings  Perdiccas  likes,  but  babes  unborne ; 
He  labours  well  in  undiscovered  mynes. 
I  need  not  now  insist  to  tell  at  large, 
What  brave  men  are  amid'st  this  martiall  band, 
Who  better  doe  deserve  so  great  a  charge, 
Both  for  their  skill,  and  courage  to  command; 
Yet  are  the  best  not  worthy  to  succeed, 
That  man  admir'd  who  never  can  be  match'd, 
The  thought  of  whom  must  make  our  mindes  to  bleed, 
Whose  adversaries  this  advantage  watch'd. 
But,  if  that  great  man  did  consent  so  soone, 
That  our  obedience  should  be  thus  abus'd. 
Of  all  that  ever  yet  he  would  have  done, 
I  thinke  this  onely  ought  to  be  refus'd. 
That  valorous  band,  whose  worth  the  world  oft  prov'd. 
Then,  whil'st  their  glory  shin'd  through  silver  shields: 
By  all  that  monarchs  deeds  when  no  way  mov'd, 


The  Alexandrian  Tragedy.  109 

(As  conquer'd)  would  have  left  the  conquer'd  fields. 
And  when  despising  such  a  princes  throne, 
To  whom  his  ancestors  their  scepter  brought, 
What  reverence  would  they  beare  to  such  a  one, 
Who  all  this  time  was  as  their  equall  thought? 
"  To  those  who  o're  their  equals  raise  their  state, 
"  Advancement  envy  breeds,  and  envy  hate; 
"  If  such  with  all  would  rest  familiar  still, 
''  This  in  contempt  the  soveraigne  title  brings :_ 
"And  if  they  second  not  their  subjects  will, 
''  Men  cannot  beare  with  them,  as  with  borne  kings." 
Our  lofty  bands  some  lofty  minde  must  tame. 
Whose  princely  birth  doth  procreate  regard ; 
Whose  country  may  confound  each  slandrous  clayme. 
As  one  with  whom  none  else  can  be  compar'd. 
Loe,  Alexanders  brother,  Philips  sonne, 
Who  alwayes  was  a  partner  of  our  paine : 
Can  there  be  any  else  below  the  sunne, 
O're  Macedonians  who  deserves  to  raigne? 
And  I  must  wonder  what  so  strange  offence 
Hath  forfeited  his  tide,  maym'd  his  right? 
That  any  now  with  a  disguis'd  pretence 
Dare  wrong  him  thus,  even  in  his  peoples  sight. 
Ptol  None    needs   to   wonder    much,   though   we 
neglect 
One  whose  election  might  procure  our  shame : 
His  mothers  basenesse,  justice  might  object, 
Whom  bastardy  secludes  from  such  a  claime. 
But  yet  had  nature  purg'd  the  spot  she  made, 
We  with  his  birth  the  better  might  comport, 
If  (like  his  syre,  fierce  squadrons  fit  to  leade) 


no  Stirling's  Poe7ns 


'<b 


His  parts  were  such  as  might  the  state  import; 

He  falsifies  his  race,  of  wit  so  weake, 

That  all  his  inward  wants  are  soone  perceiv'd, 

All  of  his  judgement  in  derision  speake, 

By  which  great  things  can  hardly  be  conceiv'd : 

And  though  his  body  might  from  paines  be  spar'd, 

Whose  constitution  is  not  very  strong ; 

But  with  infirmities  so  farre  impair'd, 

That  it  alive  cannot  continue  long ; 

"  Yet  since  in  state  he  never  hath  been  school'd, 

"  His  ignorance  would  racke  him  still  with  feares : 

"  Whil'st  he  who  rul'd,  still  needing  to  be  rul'd, 

"Spoke  but  with  others   tongues,  heard  with   their 

eares. 
"  A  king  inconstant,  great  confusion  makes, 
"  Whom  all  mistrust,  and  most  amid'st  a  campe : 
"  Whilst  (soft  like  waxe)  he  each  impression  takes 
"  A  little  labour  changing  still  the  stampe ; 
"  Ah,  should  our  lives  depend  upon  his  breath, 
"  Who  of  himselfe  cannot  discerne  a  crime : 
"  But  for  each  rash  report  damnes  men  to  death, 
"  Then  yeelds  a  fruitlesse  pitty  out  of  time. 
"  Thus  whilst  some  ahvaies  must  his  judgement  sway, 
"  Which  still  doth  harbour  in  anothers  head, 
"  Of  sycophants  this  prince  may  be  the  prey, 
"  Who  where  they  list  him  (as  quite  blinde)  will  leade. 
"  And  since  but  base,  that  they  may  be  the  best, 
"  Such  still  will  toyle,  that  we  may  be  o'rethrowne  : 
"  And  to  the  credulous  king  may  meanes  suggest, 
"  To  taint  our  fame,  lest  it  obscure  their  owne." 
What  gi-iefe  were  this  to  us,  whilst  such  as  those 


The  Alexandrxaji  Tragedy.  1 1 1 

Might  make  their  vantage  of  th'  all-pow'rfull  breath  ? 

And  that  our  actions  balanc'd  by  our  foes, 

Were  guerdon'd  with  disdaine,  or  else  with  death  % 

Mel.  Since  private  hopes  your  judgements  doe  be- 
witch, 
rie  leave  this  counsell  where  no  good  can  please : 
Come  follow  me  all  those  who  would  be  rich : 
Few  have  regard  (poore  souldiers)  to  your  ease. 

Perd.  That  shall  prove  best  which  first  I  went  about, 
Though  some  would  wrest  my  words  from  what  I 

thought : 
Loe,  Alekagcrs  spite  doth  now  burst  out, 
Like  flaming  fires  which  burne  themselves  to  nought. 
Thus,  naughty  mindes  which  never  dreame  but  ill, 
Doe  construe  all  things  to  a  crooked  sense : 
What  I  propos'd,  reposing  on  your  will, 
He  would  interpret  for  a  great  offence. 
And  (thus  pufif'd  up)  this  parting  hence  of  his, 
To  many  former  faults  hath  added  one : 
By  his  seditious  words  incens'd  ere  this, 
The  souldiers  are  to  sacke  the  treasure  gone. 

Aiit.  With  one  consent  then  let  us  all  conclude. 
That  Alexanders  race  (when  borne)  must  raigne : 
So  shall  we  stablish  still  that  sacred  bloud, 
Which  rais'd  our  state,  and  may  it  best  maintaine. 
And  let  us  now  (before  we  part)  appoint 
Who  shall  command  till  that  the  babe  be  borne : 
And  circumspectly  ponder  every  point, 
That  successe  so  our  councell  may  adorne. 

Eton.  I  heare  a  tumult  rais'd  amongst  che  tents. 
And  Arideus  is  proclaimed  king : 


1 1 2  Stirling's  Poems. 

To  which  the  multitude  (soone  chang'd)  consents, 

As  bent  for  all  whose  course  a  change  may  bring. 

The  foot-men  are  to  indignation  mov'd, 

In  this  assembly  that  they  want  a  seat, 

Where  our  proceedings  they  might  have  approv'd, 

As  knowing  all  that  did  concerne  the  state. 

They  soone  forget  their  prince  (exspecting  spoiles) 

That  dare  revolt  from  what  we  all  advis'd : 

"  Thus  too  much  liberty  breeds  many  broiles, 

"  And  makes  the  giver  still  to  be  despis'd. 

"  The  want  of  discipline  all  things  confounds." 

Their  deeds  want  order,  and  their  pride  all  bounds. 

Perd.  And  dare  they  then  against  that  fortresse  rise, 
Where  Alexanders  ensignes  are  displaidi 
Or  violate  the  walles  where  as  he  lyes'? 
May  not  his  shadow  make  them  all  afraid? 
What  1  how  comes  this  ?  and  dare  they  then  presume, 
To  bragge  their  captaines,  and  abuse  their  armes? 
Armes  armes,  just  wrath  these  rebels  must  consume. 
Our  count' nance  will  them  curbe,  sound,  sound  th' 
alarmes.  [Exeunt. 


ACT   II.       SCENE   II, 

LysimacJms,  Seleucus. 

Lys.  Loe,  here  a  great  and  more  then  sudden  change ! 
All  men  for  mirth  were  like  to  have  gone  mad. 
So  that  of  late  it  would  have  beene  thought  strange, 
In  all  this  citie  to  have  seene  one  sad. 
Each  wall  resounded  some  melodious  song, 


The  Alexa7idr(zan  Tragedy.  113 

To  ravish  curious  eares  with  rare  dehght; 

Strange  tapestries  were  stretch'd  the  streets  along, 

And  stately  objects  made  to  charme  the  sight; 

As  if  our  king  his  conquests  so  would  crowne, 

Of  all  the  world  a  parliament  to  hold, 

He  (plac'd  with  pompe  in  this  imperiall  towne) 

Did  of  magnificence  the  height  unfold. 

Here  glory  (in  her  richest  robes  array'd) 

Should  have  shewne  all  that  greatnesse  could  expect : 

Yet  were  our  hopes  even  at  the  height  betraid : 

To  death  those  trophees  fortune  did  erect. 

A  tragicke  end  this  triumph  quite  confounds, 

All  our  applauses  vanish  in  complaints, 

Our  musicke  marr'd  by  melancholy  sounds, 

Loe,  by  the  cypresse  press'd,  the  lawrell  faints. 

To  funerall  shrikes,  our  shouts  of  joy  we  turne, 

(With  gorgeous  garments,  griefe  cannot  comport), 

We  that  so  much  rejoyc'd,  farre  more  must  mourne, 

"  Dayes  spent  with  woe  are  long,  with  pleasure  short.'' 

This  breeds  most  anguish,  when  that  one  compares 

The  present  time  with  others  that  are  past, 

Whil'st  wonted  hopes  are  ballanc'd  with  despaires. 

Which  all  heroicke  mindes  with  woe  doe  waste. 

Betwixt  these  two,  what  difference  finde  we  forth, 

The  rising  sunne,  and  it  that  is  declin'd? 

Where  is  that  zodiacke  (lodging  of  all  worth) 

Whence  valours  beames  (still  lightning  courage)  shin'dl 

Now  desolation  spreads  it  selfe  o're  all : 

A  solitary  silence,  griefe  allowes, 

Ah,  (as  quite  crush' d  by  that  great  monarchs  fall) 

How  many  male-contents  cast  downe  their  browes? 

VOL.    II.  I 


114  Stirlmg^s  Poems. 

A  strange  suspition  hath  possess'd  the  streets, 
Whil'st  every  man  his  neighbours  fall  conspires, 
Each  one  who  unawares  another  meets, 
(As  fearing  treason)  with  distrust  retires. 
Of  rumours  strange  each  eare  is  greedy  growne, 
Which  (though  but  doubtfull)  move  the  minde  to  rue, 
And  (doting  still  on  that  which  is  their  own)  ^ 
What  they  conjecture,  all  afifirme  for  true. 

Sel.  With  eyes  that  flame  for  rage,  our  deeds  heaven 
viewes, 
And  (mov'd  for  us)  a  high  disdaine  doth  beare; 
Loe,  all  mens  heads  are  heavy  for  ill  newes, 
And  though  we  know  not  what,  yet  still  we  feare : 
For,  since  the  widow'd  world  doth  want  a  head, 
Each  member  now  doth  labour  to  be  chiefe. 
Which  (whilst  they  divers  wayes  the  body  lead) 
May  give  beginning  to  some  endlesse  griefe; 
Some  (like  the  foole  who  thunder  fayn'd  like  love) 
Would  make  their  fame  like  Alexanders  sound, 
And  (all  brought  low)  to  be  themselves  above. 
Would  order  all,  or  else  would  all  confound; 
Then  some  vaine  wits  which  onely  would  seeme  wise, 
(By  flatt'ring  mirrours  of  their  shape  deceiv'd) 
Doe  every  thing  that  is  not  theirs  despise. 
And  perish  would,  ere  them  another  sav'd. 
A  number  too  whom  all  things  doe  content, 
What  each  one  thinkes,  are  still  resolv'd  to  doe : 
They  make  a  choice,  then  doe  the  choice  repent. 
And  straight  repent  of  that  repentance  too. 
The  publike  good  is  spoil'd  by  private  hope, 
Whil'st  many  thus  high  dignities  doe  claime; 


The  A lexandrcean  Tragedy.  115 

This  discord  gives  to  rash  ambition  scope : 

"  For,  all  would  fish  within  a  troubled  streame." 

See  how  dissention  hath  dissolv'd  so  soone, 

All  kinde  of  order,  and  confusion  brought : 

Our  councell  quite  this  variance  hath  undone, 

"  Whil'st  one  would   have  done   all,  all   have  done 

nought : " 
Although  Perdiccas  (as  it  would  have  seem'd) 
Whil'st  for  his  masters  race  he  onely  stood, 
Sought  (by  that  meanes  more  vertuous  to  be  deem'd) 
His  princes  honour,  and  his  countries  good ; 
Yet  his  companions  having  in  contempt, 
He  did  by  subtile  meanes  himselfe  advance: 
And  so  to  shadow  his  disguis'd  attempt, 
Aym'd  at  the  royall  place  as  but  by  chance; 
He  toyles  that  the  unborne  none  should  beguile, 
As  by  the  heavens  for  th'  orphanes  good  reserv'd : 
Yet  wanting  of  a  king  nought  but  the  stile, 
He  would  not  want  that  when  th'  occasion  serv'd. 
And  Meleager  partially  dispos'd. 
To  hinder  others,  doth  pretend  a  love 
To  bastard  Philips  by  effect  disclos'd, 
Since  he  but  seekes  Perdiccas  to  disprove; 
And  if  that  foe,  whom  he  doth  feare,  but  faile, 
He  cares  not  much  what  emperour  they  proclaime : 
And  his  designe  with  many  may  prevaile : 
"  A  cloake  of  right,  apparels  any  claime; 
"  They  whose  descent  some  title  doth  disclose 
"  (As  by  their  birth  made  capable  to  raigne) : 
"  Must  be  preferr'd  by  reason  unto  those, 
'*  Who  of  all  right  without  the  bounds  remaine." 


ii6  Stirling'' s  Poems. 


<b 


The  furious  foot-men  (insolently  stout) 

A  title  to  maintaine,  did  brave  our  band, 

And  (indignation  thundring  threatnings  out) 

Would  with  our  bloud  have  bath'd  this  barbarous  land. 

O!  what  indignity  would  this  have  been, 

Whil'st  those  whom  he  subdu'd  with  such  great  toiles, 

Had  in  this  sort  their  victors  vanquish'd  seen, 

So  of  their  spoilers  purchasing  the  spoiles'? 

Thus  darkening  all  that  we  had  done  before, 

(Our  swords  first  stayn'd  by  ignominious  wounds) 

We,  of  our  conquests  could  have  kept  no  more. 

But  burials  base  (if  those)  in  th'  enemies  bounds. 

O !  what  excellency  consists  in  th'  one, 

(Though  oft  not   mark'd  till   miss'd)  cleare   at  this 

houre : 
"  Some  with  a  word,  or  look,  doe  more  alone, 
"  Then  thousands  joyn'd  with  policy  and  pow'r." 
When  squadrons  arm'd  with  ensignes  full  displaid, 
As  of  their  prince  all  due  regard  quite  lost, 
His  generous  course  would  (obstinate)  have  staid, 
By  them  abandon' d,  when  endanger'd  most; 
Then  of  disorder  yeelding  bitter  fruits, 
They  boldly  march'd  with  bragges  before  his  tent, 
And  charg'd  their  soveraigne  with  unlawfull  suits, 
To  innovations  violently  bent; 
Of  duty  then,  they  by  no  band  detain'd. 
First  grudg'd,  grew  factious  next,  last  rebels  plaine. 
Like  waters  for  a  time  (by  art  restrain'd) 
Their  bounds  once  pass'd,  which  do  all  bounds  dis- 

daine : 
But  from  that  patterne  of  accomplish'd  worth, 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  1 1 7 

Whom  imitate  none  may,  all  must  admire, 
Through  just  disdaine  when  fury  sparkl'd  forth, 
These  troupes  (astonish'd)  trembling  did  retire; 
His  stately  count'nance  calm'd  tumultuous  sounds, 
And  lightened  majesty  through  clouds  of  wrath, 
That  (even  as  if  his  words  had  given  them  wounds) 
They  fell,  afraid  of  him,  though  not  of  death  : 
Those  lofty  bands  which  were  of  late  so  proud, 
That  they  disdain'd  to  wait  their  emperours  will : 
Then  (by  his  looke  all  at  an  instant  bow'd) 
Did  beg  but  leave  that  they  might  serve  him  still; 
And  yet  what  wonder  though  he  gain'd  all  hearts, 
Which  to  his  presence  happened  to  repaire, 
With  that  perfection  of  all  vertuous  parts, 
As  large  in  him,  as  in  all  others  rarel 
Loe,  when  we  meet  to  treat,  by  peace  or  warres, 
How  all  our  conquests  may  be  best  secur'd. 
The  souldiers  doe  burst  out  in  publike  jarres, 
Even  by  their  captaines  no  respect  procur'd. 
And  who  can  call  that  valorous  prince  to  minde, 
That  unto  vertue  any  reverence  beares, 
But  he  must  be  constrain'd,  or  prove  unkinde, 
To  offer  up  a  tribute  of  some  teares? 

Lys.   His  death  doth  make  my  soule  faint  sorrows 
prey. 
Though  many  thought  that  I  for  it  had  long  d ; 
For,  if  by  any  whom  he  should  obey, 
One  can  be  wrong'd,  then  I  indeed  was  wrong'd. 

Sel.  Though  fame  abroad  by  divers   tongues  did 
bring, 
To  what  huge  danger  you  were  once  expos'd; 


1 1 8  Sthiin^^s  Poems. 


i} 


It  did  not  paint  out  each  particular  thing, 
Which  by  your  selfe  I  long  to  heare  disclos'd. 

Lys.  When  wise  Calistenes  for  no  request, 
With  superstitious  customes  could  comport, 
But  with  franke  words  all  flattery  did  detest, 
He  was  abus'd,  and  in  a  barbarous  sort : 
"  So  plaguing  him  (no  doubt)  the  king  did  ill, 
"  Yet  to  prosperity  we  must  impute 
"  Those  fatall  faults  which  follow  fortune  still, 
"  As  of  great  mindes  a  kinde  of  bastard  fruit ; 
"  We  should  in  kings,  as  loth  their  state  to  touch, 
"  Speake  sparingly  of  vice,  praise  vertue  much." 
But  I  whose  soule  that  wise  man  dearely  lov'd, 
Whilst  his  perfections  spying  thus  injur'd, 
(To  tender  passions  by  compassion  mov'd) 
Would  his  reliefe  have  willingly  procur'd. 
But  when  my  credit  fail'd,  all  hope  quite  past, 
That  I  could  purchase  grace  in  any  sort : 
I  desp'rate  physicke  did  afford  at  last,  ^ 

That  if  his  life  was  ill,  it  might  be  short. 
The  king  enrag'd,  that  I  had  thus  presum'd 
To  limit  his  revenge  by  giving  death, 
That  by  a  lyon  I  should  be  consum'd. 
Did  throw  my  doome  out  of  the  depths  of  wrath ; 
But  when  with  rowling  eyes  the  lyon  roar'd. 
He,  by  my  strength  (as  strengthlesse)  was  or'ethrown. 
Which  to  the  king  whose  minde  did  then  remord. 
My  constancy  and  courage  both  made  knowne. 
So  that  incontinent  I  was  set  free. 
By  this  rare  proofe  esteem'd  amongst  the  strong. 
And  with  a  minde  from  inward  rancour  free, 


The  Alexandraan  Tragedy.  119 

As  he  his  wrath,  so  I  forgot  the  wrong : 
For,  whilst  alone  he  through  a  forrest  rang'd; 
A  prey  expos'd,  yet  did  no  danger  dreame, 
Some  at  that  time  had  former  wrongs  reveng'd, 
If  but  for  mischiefe  bent  to  gaine  a  name ; 
Yet  that  which  others  did  attempt  in  vaine, 
And  (tyr'd  by  travell)  of  a  surfet  dy'd, 
I  did  performe,  and  brought  him  backe  againe, 
As  swiftly  running  as  his  horse  could  ride; 
And  of  that  deed  my  sprite  rests  well  appaid : 
For,  since  that  time  my  soveraigne  held  me  deare, 
Which  afterwards  he  to  the  world  bewraid, 
Whilst  by  this  meanes  his  favour  did  appeare. 
When  unawares  my  brow  he  chanc'd  to  wound, 
To  stay  my  bloud  which  striv'd  to  dye  his  launce. 
He  with  his  diadem  my  temples  crown'd, 
A  happy  signe  though  comming  but  by  chance; 
And  O !  who  knowes  but  once  before  I  dye, 
Some  good  event  may  second  the  presage  1 

Sel.  What  hinders  us  but  we  should  fortune  try, 
And  for  a  crowne  our  travels  straight  engage  % 
Those  bended  mindes  which  ayme  at  greatnesse  still, 
"  (Growne  popular,  of  purpose  to  be  prais'd :) 
"  Doe  winde  themselves  in  every  mans  good  will," 
And  would  seeme  humble,  that  they  may  be  rais'd. 
"  What  counterfeited  friends  seale  truthlesse  bands, 
"  Whilst  in  the  generall  cause  that  wit  pretends, 
'•'  Though  never  joyning  hearts,  all  joyne  their  hands, 
"  And  worke  one  way,  yet  worke  for  divers  ends'?" 
Yea,  those  whose  mindes  move  in  the  sphere  of  state, 
Have  purchas'd  pow'rs,  as  purpos'd  for  the  fields. 


1 20  Stirlhis:'' s  Poems, 


A 


With  jealous  mindes  their  rivals  to  abate, 

Whilst  (equals  all)  none  to  another  yeelds; 

Yet  with  suspended  thoughts  they  doubtfull  stand, 

And  their  designes  to  venture  doe  forbeare, 

Least  all  the  rest  joyn'd  by  a  generall  band, 

Doe  him  o' rethrow,  who  first  gives  cause  of  feare; 

But  he  may  speed  who  for  a  crowne  doth  thirst, 

And  (free  from  feare)  with  courage  doth  advance: 

Some  to  be  second,  doubting  to  be  first, 

Will  make  their  course  depend  upon  his  chance ; 

And  by  a  battell  if  that  one  prevaile, 

There  will  rich  hopes  at  easie  rates  be  sold, 

Whil'st   those   seek   help,  whose   fortune   then  doth 

faile. 
As  first  by  hope,  last  by  despaire  made  bold ; 
All  this  to  me  great  cause  of  feare  affords, 
Lest  that  we  two  protract  the  time  too  long; 
And  wounded  be  before  we  draw  our  swords : 
'*  All  at  such  times  must  do,  or  suffer  wrong." 

Ljs.  No  chance  of  late  hath  brought  me  so  to  bow. 
But   I  have  throwne   some   thoughts  at   those   high 

hopes : 
"  Yet  in  my  minde  that  man  do  most  allow 
"  Who  doth  with  judgement  moderate  fancies  scopes  :" 
Those  provinces  which  are  to  us  assign'd, 
As  calme  in  minde,  we  manage  must  a  space : 
Till  all  attempt  that  which  they  have  design' d. 
By  enterchanging  damage  and  disgrace : 
Then  living  but  like  those  whose  force  is  small, 
From  which  the  world  no  great  thing  can  expect : 
We  shall  professe  a  favour  to  them  all, 


The  Alexandrcpan  Tragedy.  121 

As  who  nought  else,  save  publicke  peace  aftect; 
Yet  then,  our  thoughts  shall  not  have  leave  to  sleep . 
But  subtle  plots  must  circumspectly  frame, 
Those  whom  we  feare  at  variance  still  to  keep, 
So  alwayes  strengthning  us,  and  weakening  them ; 
If  wrongs  provoke,  or  when  occasion  claimes, 
We  may  make  warre  with  some  ere  it  be  long, 
Like  cunning  wrestlers  at  th'  Olympick  games, 
Who  exercise  themselves  to  be  more  strong : 
And  when  themselves  have  thus  prepar'd  the  way, 
Whil'st  that  their  pompe  doth  beare  a  lower  sayle. 
(For  at  the  last  their  force  must  much  decay. 
Since  all  must  always  lose,  though  one  prevaile) 
Then  prompt  to  tempt  that  which  we  now  contrive, 
(By  ruining  the  remnant  that  remaines) 
We  may  possesse  the  state  for  which  they  strive; 
Thus  they  the  toils,  and  we  shall  get  the  gaines. 

\Exeunt. 

Chorus. 

O  happy  was  that  guiltlesse  age, 
When  as  Astrcea  liv'd  below: 
And  that  Bellona's  barbarous  rage 
Did  not  all  order  quite  o'rethrow. 
Then  whil'st  all  did  themselves  content 
With  that  thing  which  they  did  possesse, 
And  gloried  in  a  little  rent, 
As  wanting  meanes  to  make  excesse; 
Those  could  no  kinde  of  want  bemone, 
For,  craving  nought,  they  had  all  things : 


12  2  Stirling's  Poems. 


"a 


And  since  none  sought  the  regall  throne, 
Whil'st  none  were  subjects,  all  were  kings: 
"  O !  to  true  blisse  their  course  was  set, 
"  Who  got  to  live,  not  liv'd  to  get." 

Then  innocency  naked  liv'd, 
And  had  no  need,  nor  thought  of  armes, 
Whil'st  spightfull  sprits  no  meanes  contriv'd. 
To  plague  the  simple  sort  with  harmes; 
Then  snaring  laws  did  not  extend 
The  bounds  of  reason  as  they  do, 
Strife  oft  begun  where  it  should  end, 
One  doubt  but  clear'd  to  foster  two : 
By  conscience  then  all  order  stood, 
By  which  darke  things  were  soone  discern'd, 
Whil'st  all  behov'd  there  to  be  good. 
Where  as  no  evill  was  to  be  learn'd : 
And  how  could  any  then  prove  nought, 
Whil'st  by  example  vertue  taught? 

Then  mortals  mindes  all  strong  and  pure, 

Free  from  corruption  lasted  long, 

(By  innocency  kept  secure) 

When  none  did  know  how  to  do  wrong; 

Then  sting'd  with  no  suspitious  thought, 

Men  mischiefe  did  from  none  expect: 

For,  what  in  them  could  not  be  wrought, 

In  others  they  would  not  suspect; 

And  though  none  did  sterne  laws  impart, 

That  might  to  vertue  men  compell. 

Each  one  by  habite  in  his  heart, 


The  Alexandrian  Tragedy.  123 

Had  grav'd  a  law  of  doing  well : 
And  all  did  wickednesse  forbeare 
Of  their  free-will,  and  not  for  feare. 

The  first  who  spoyl'd  the  publike  rest, 
And  did  disturbe  this  quiet  state, 
Was  avarice,  the  greatest  pest 
Which  doth  of  darknesse  fill  the  seat : 
A  monster  very  hard  to  daunt, 
Leane,  as  dry'd  up  with  inward  care, 
(Though  full  of  wealth)  for  feare  of  want, 
Still  at  the  borders  of  dispaire; 
Scarce  taking  food  for  Natures  ease. 
Nor  for  the  cold  sufficient  clothing, 
She  whom  her  owne  could  never  please. 
Thinks  all  have  much,  and  she  hath  nothing : 

This  daughter  of  sterne  Pluto,  still 

Her  fathers  dungeon  strives  to  fill. 


'fa^ 


That  monster-tamer  most  renown'd, 
The  great  Alcides,  Thebes  glory. 
Who  (for  twelve  severall  labours  crown'd) 
Was  famous  made  by  many  a  story, 
As  one  who  all  his  time  had  toyl'd 
To  purge  the  world  of  such  like  pests. 
Who  robbers  rob'd,  and  spoylers  spoyld, 
Still  humbling  haughty  tyrants  crests, 
He  by  this  monster  once  o'rethrowne. 
Did  passe  in  Spaine  o're  lands  and  flouds, 
And  there  took  more  then  was  his  owne, 
What  right  had  he  to  Gerions  goods'? 


124  Stirling' s  Poems. 

Thus  avarice  the  world  deceives, 

And  makes  the  greatest  conquerours  slaves. 

Ah !  when  to  plague  the  world  with  griefe, 
This  poore-rich  monster  once  was  borne: 
Then  weaknesse  could  finde  no  reliefe, 
And  subtiltie  did  conscience  scorne : 
Yet  some  who  labour'd  to  recall 
That  blisse  which  guilded  the  first  age, 
Did  punishment  prepare  for  all, 
Who  did  their  thoughts  to  vice  engage; 
And  yet  the  more  they  laws  did  bring, 
That  to  be  good  might  men  constraine, 
The  more  they  sought  to  do  the  thing 
From  which  the  laws  did  them  restraine : 

So  that  by  custome  altred  quite, 

The  world  in  ill  doth  most  delight.       \Exeunt. 


ACT  III.      SCENE  I. 

Perdiccas,  Eiimenes. 

Per.  Now  fortune  smyles  upon  my  rising  state, 
And  seemes  to  promise  more  then  I  require; 
Loe,  by  degrees  my  glory  doth  grow  great, 
And  by  their  death  who  did  my  death  conspire. 
Proud  Meleagcr  who  disdain'd  to  bow. 
And  my  advancement  alwayes  did  mislike. 
Hath  with  his  bloud  seal'd  my  assurance  now, 
To  fright  all  those  who  would  attempt  the  like. 

Eiwi.  Yet  of  his  fall  the  forme  my  minde  appalls. 


The  Akxandnvan  Tragedy.  125 

Even  at  loves  altar,  and  without  regard ; 

AVe  were  too  rash  to  violate  those  walls 

Which  the  most  impious  could  not  but  have  spar'd. 

Lascivious  Ajax  by  Minervds  spight, 

Earst  for  prophaning  such  a  sacred  place, 

On  the  Capharian  rocks  did  lose  the  light, 

And  all  his  navie  too  for  ones  disgrace. 

"  We  should  not  irritate  celestiall  powr's ; 

"  And,  all  beginnings  are  consider'd  most:" 

Such  horrour  breeds  this  odious  act  of  ours, 

That  we  (I  feare)  opinions  pow'r  have  lost. 

Per.  Let  others  seek  to  keep  such  points  as  those, 
1  am  not  scrupulous,  for,  I  protest, 
Ov'r  all,  and  by  all  meanes  I'le  kill  my  foes, 
And  then  thereafter  argue  of  the  rest. 
"  They  wrong  the  gods  who  think  their  church  should 

be 
"  A  refuse  free  for  malefactors  still : 
^'  For,  with  their  justice  this  cannot  agree : 
"  W^ho  guard  ill  doers,  guilty  are  of  ill. 
Was  he  not  stain'd  with  many  a  monstrous  crime, 
And  Salamaiider-\\kt  amidst  the  fire 
(Contentiously  dispos'd)  did  spend  his  time, 
And  (never  pleas'd)  did  still  some  change  require? 

Eutn.  "  One  hum'rous   head  that  doth  in  brawls 
delight, 
"  May  poyson  thousands  with  the  gall  of  spight." 

Per.  As  still  seditiously  affecting  strife. 
He  but  abus'd  the  credit  of  his  king : 
And  sent  some  of  his  slaves  to  take  my  life, 
Such  bitter  envy  did  his  stomack  sting. 


126  Siir/ing^s  Poems. 

Eum.  I  saw,  how  that  advanc'd  before  our  band, 
You  first  did  check,  then  chase  them  in  the  end : 
And  did  with  courage  resolutely  stand, 
Our  soveraignes  corps  (though  dead)  bent  to  defend. 

Per.  "  He  but  a  dastard  is  who  basely  yeelds, 
"  And  in  no  conflict  hath  his  fortune  n-y'd," 
We  (if  in  time  not  ventring  to  the  fields) 
Like  beasts  (all  sacrific'd)  had  poorely  dy'd  : 
But  when  without  we  masters  did  remaine, 
(Lest  Babylon  had  straight  beene  barr'd  from  food): 
I  those  proud  squadrons  quickly  did  constraine 
Even  as  we  pleas' d,  a  treaty  to  conclude. 
Grac'd  whil'st  my  foe  (as  in  some  kinde  compar'd) 
A  chiefe  in  charge,  he  many  mindes  did  sway. 
But  (found  inferiour)  when  a  friend  declar'd, 
My  credit  did  increase,  and  his  decay. 

Eum.  Yet  in  this  course  all  (who  observe)  do  see, 
That  of  the  multitude  the  minde  prevail'd: 
He  whom  they  did  elect  our  prince  must  be, 
And  our  designe  hath  altogether  fail'd : 
But  how  comes  this?  that  every  captaine  gets 
A  certaine  realme  committed  to  his  charge, 
And  with  an  army  bravely  forward  sets. 
Their  bounds  allow'd  to  guard,  or  to  enlarge? 

Per.  I  by  my  means  have  every  great  man  crown'd, 
That  from  my  greatnesse  great  things  might  proceed : 
Yet  by  that  meanes  to  make  my  pow'r  renown'd, 
The  doing  lik't  me  better  then  the  deed; 
I  this  division  chiefly  did  procure 
To  have  those  great-men  from  the  court  remov'd. 
Where  they  might  be  imploy'd,  yet  I  secure. 


The  Alexandrczan  Tragedy.  127 

Their  favour  purchas'd,  or  at  least  thus  prov'd : 
For,  him  who  hath  them  to  such  honour  brought, 
They  must  be  bound  to  hold  in  high  account, 
And  their  advancement  for  this  end  I  sought, 
That  by  their  meanes  I  with  more  ease  might  mount. 

Emu.  O !  but  your  fancies  may  be  much  deceiv'd, 
"  There  is  no  bond  can  binde  unthankful!  mindes:" 
I  feare  the  favour  that  they  thus  receiv'd, 
Hath  showne  them  wayes  to  sayle  by  other  windes. 
So  long,  of  late,  as  they  had  need  of  you. 
To  seemeyour  friends  they  (courting  kindnesse)  sought : 
But  since  their  greatnesse  is  well  grounded  now, 
They  will  disdaine  what  derogates  in  ought. 
"  To  those  all  great  men  friends  most  frankly  prove, 
*'  Whom  (for  their  pleasure)  freely  they  affect, 
"  And  (loathing  bands)  cannot  be  forc'd  to  love, 
"  As  brav'd  by  worth,  when  merits  urge  respect. 
"  Few  mark  from  whence  they  rose,  when  once  aloft, 
"  None  can  endure  that  they  should  owe  their  state : 
"  Desarts  grow  odious  when  upbraided  oft, 
"  And  are  deprav'd,  not  guerdon' d,  when  too  great. 
"  Yea,  in  my  judgement  you  have  greatly  err'd, 
"  Them  to  exalt,  whose  state  you  would  surprise : 
"  Their  common  custome  is  who  are  preferr'd, 
"  That  they  may  stand,  not  to  let  others  rise." 

Per.  "  To  ruine  loftie  mindes  when  least  afraid, 
"  Whil'st  carelesse  carriage  jealous  censures  sift, 
'*  By  spyes  abroad  to  foes  at  court  betray'd, 
"  Then  by  preferrement  what  more  subtle  drift?" 
Their  hearts  with  hate  are  parted  all  by  pride ; 
One  is  already  to  confusion  gone : 


128  Stirling'' s  Poems. 


i> 


I  long  to  learne  how  Leonatus  dy'd, 
Not  that  I  minde  his  funerals  to  bemone. 

Eum.  That  prince  magnanimous  whom  all  admire, 
(As  was  his  custome)  clemently  proclaim'd, 
That  banish'd  Grecians  might  to  Greece  reture, 
Save  onely  such  whom  murder  had  defam'd; 
But  who  them  banish'd,  griev'd  for  their  returne, 
Did  feare  what  just  revenge  might  have  design'd. 
As  knowing  well  (whil'st  wrongs  make  wrath  to  burne) 
"  How  misery  doth  irritate  a  minde;" 
The  indignation  which  they  had  conceiv'd, 
Did  breed  rebellion  bursting  out  with  rage, 
The  which  our  king  (deep  in  his  minde  ingrav'd) 
By  Athens  spoyles  did  purpose  to  asswage : 
But  since  that  death  afforded  them  releefe, 
Growne  bold  to  prosecute  their  proud  attempt, 
Th'  Athenians.,  and  th'  u-Etoiians  were  the  chiefe 
Who  brought  Antipater  first  in  contempt ; 
And  by  their  pow'r  constrain'd  to  quite  the  field, 
He  (in  a  little  towne  enclos'd)  at  last, 
Was  once  reduc'd  in  danger  neere  to  yeeld, 
And  staine  the  glory  of  his  actions  past ; 
But  yet  by  accident  as  oft  it  falls, 
"  (It  better  is  to  happy  be,  then  wise)" 
An  unsuspected  shaft  throwne  from  the  walls, 
Their  foes  chiefe  captaine  happened  to  surprise ; 
Then  did  Antipater  his  courage  reare. 
Which  had  almost  his  stagg'ring  hopes  betray'd: 
Yet  still  in  doubt,  and  not  quite  free  from  feare, 
He  Leonatus  did  in  treat  for  aide; 
And  he  who  seem'd  his  friendship  to  affect, 


The  AlexandrcEan  Tragedy.  129 

To  further  him  desirous  did  appeare; 

But  (if  he  had  prevail'd)  some  do  suspect, 

Antipater  had  bought  his  succours  deare. 

Yet  by  the  end  his  purpose  bent  to  show 

(How  ever  in  effect)  he  seem'd  a  friend ; 

But  when  th'  Athenians  did  his  coming  know, 

They  him  to  fight  did  all  directly  tend. 

And  though  their  thoughts  in  depths  of  doubts  did 

fleete, 
They  when  alone,  to  match  him  thought  it  best, 
And  whil'st   they  march'd  th'  adventrous    troups   to 

meet, 
Did  hardly  welcome  the  unwelcome  guest : 
When  both  th'  armies  were  to  battell  brought. 
And  shew  with  what  bright  flames  their  breasts  were 

stor'd. 
Brave  Leonatus  like  a  lyon  fought, 
So  to  prove  worthy  of  his  wonted  lord : 
But  whil'st  he  bravely  did  his  charge  acquite. 
Yet  lost  himselfe,  who  others  came  to  save, 
And  by  their  captains  fall  discourag'd  quite, 
His  scatter'd  troups  great  damage  did  receive; 
When  old  Antipater  was  surely  told 
Of  their  mishap,  who  came  for  his  reliefe, 
He  not  one  signe  of  sorrow  did  unfold : 
"  A  little  gaine  doth  mitigate  much  griefe:" 
Well  did  he  know  that  though  his  foes  prevail'd, 
Yet  this  great  fight  enfeebled  had  their  host, 
And  then  he  took  to  him  (which  much  avail'd) 
Those  beaten  bands  who  had  their  captaine  lost; 
Yet  that  in  which  he  did  most  comfort  finde, 

VOL.    II.  K 


130  Stirling's  Poems. 

Was  his  delivery  from  a  secret  foe, 

Who  did  with  jealousie  torment  his  minde, 

Though  outwardly  not  seeming  to  be  so. 

Per.  Thus,  we  who  earst  below  one  ensigne  warr'd, 
Slept  in  one  tent,  and  all  one  fortune  prov'd, 
And  (with  a  friendship  then,  that  never  jarr'd) 
Like  Pylades,  and  mad  Orestes  lov'd, 
Since  that  we  want  a  lord,  and  all  are  lords, 
We  (loe)  renounce  all  kinde  of  kindnesse  now, 
And  (secret  rancour  budding  in  discords) 
Do  others  harmes  procure,  at  least  allow. 
"  Such  is  the  sacred  famine  of  a  crowne, 
"  That  it  to  satisfie,  before  we  faile, 
"  What  in  our  way  doth  stand,  all  must  go  down, 
"  And  bands  of  bloud,  or  friendship  not  availe : 
"  These  glory-ravish'd  souls  that  would  be  great, 
"  No  meanes  omit,  although  they  be  unjust, 
"  None  beares  with  patience  partners  in  the  state; 
"  What  jealous  lover  can  his  rivals  trust ■?  " 

Puin.  Well,  I  perceive  Antipater  doth  tend 
With  all  his  pow'r  to  gaine  that  sacred  prey, 
Whose  meanes  (of  late  enlarg'd)  to  reach  his  end : 
Through  every  danger  may  enforce  a  way; 
And  Alexander  sometimes  spake  at  large. 
Then  whil'st  Antipater  with  Agis  striv'd. 
That  he  (without  the  limits  of  his  charge) 
More  like  a  king,  then  a  lieutenant  liv'd. 
Antigomts,  and  Ptolomie  in  armes 
Are  joyn'd  in  one,  our  ruine  bent  to  breed; 
J  teare  that  fnendship  procreate  our  harmes, 
Unlesse  their  spight  prevented  be  with  speed. 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  131 

Per.  rie  lodge  you  now  {Eumenes)  in  my  brest, 
And  let  you  see  the  ground  of  my  intent : 
Since  that  we  both  aUke  must  toyle,  or  rest, 
As  those  whose  courses  must  have  one  event. 
Since  at  his  death,  I  by  our  dying  lord, 
Was  in  his  place  appointed  to  succeed, 
And  that  my  fortune  doth  a  meanes  afford ; 
How  I  may  compasse  that  which  he  decreed. 
To  leave  that  place  I  cannot  well  agree, 
As  if  I  wanted  courage  to  command, 
rie  take  that  which  the  fates  do  force  on  me : 
For,  if  without  a  throne,  I  cannot  stand. 
"  And  those  who  would  performe  difficult  things, 
"  Must  not  regard  what  way,  so  they  prevaile : 
"  Oft  fraud,  then  force,  a  greater  furtherance  brings, 
"  The  foxe  must  help,  if  that  the  lyon  faile." 
So  old  Aiitipater  to  have  betray'd, 
His  daughter  I  in  marriage  did  require. 
That  so  the  time  might  but  have  beene  delay' d, 
Till  that  I  had  accomplish'd  my  desire : 
For,  with  the  shadow  of  pretended  love. 
And  hop'd  affinity  which  seem'd  design'd, 
I  from  his  bounds  some  bands  aym'd  to  remove, 
By  raising  me  that  he  might  have  declin'd ; 
"  But  who  can  snare  a  minde  all  ey'd  with  fears?" 
He  quickly  did  mistrust  the  purpos'd  wrong, 
And  from  my  messengers  straight  barr  d  his  eares, 
As  did  Vlysses  from  the  Syrens  song. 

Eum.   Yet   this   (if   rightly   weigh'd)    might   much 
import. 
If  that  you  match  your  selfe  with  such  a  mate, 


132  Stirling's  Poems. 

Whose  beauty,  pleasure,  birth,  might  bring  support, 

And  both  concurre  in  one  to  blesse  your  state, 

If  you  to  make  your  high  attempts  more  sure, 

By  HyjHciis  meanes  with  some  your  selfe  alHe, 

Thus  of  some  prince  you  may  the  pow'r  procure, 

On  whom  for  help  you  boldly  may  relye. 

What  griefe  were  this  if  you  have  hap  to  gaine, 

That  faire  Idea  which  your  fancies  frame, 

If  after  you,  none  of  your  owne  remayne 

To  keep  your  conquests,  and  revive  your  name? 

"  Kings  live  most  safe  who  of  their  owne  have  heires, 

"  Whose  sacred  persons  none  dare  seek  to  wound : 

"  Since,  though  they  dye,  yet  there  rest  some  of  theirs, 

"  Who  are  to  venge  their  death,  by  nature  bound." 

Per.  All  shall  be  try'd  which  may  enlarge  my  might; 
I  minde  to  match  my  selfe  with  such  a  one, 
Who  (if  she  have  my  pow'r  to  prove  her  right) 
May  be  thought  worthy  of  her  fathers  throne. 
I  with  Olympias  have  devis'd  a  thing, 
Which  may  secure  her  state,  and  make  mine  strong, 
And  (if  accomplish' d)  prove  a  prosp'rous  spring, 
From  whence  may  flow  great  acts  ere  it  be  long : 
By  Cleopatra  may  a  meanes  be  catch'd, 
Which  to  a  glorious  end  our  course  may  bring. 
She  whom  at  first  her  father  Philip  match' d 
With  Alexander  of  Epirus  king, 
Who  having  heard  great  Alexanders  fame, 
(In  emulation  of  that  monarchs  praise) 
Went  with  his  troups  th'  Etrurians  bent  to  tame. 
Which  enterprise  did  but  abridge  his  dayes : 
In  marriage  with  that  widow'd  queene  combinde, 


The  Alexaiidr(Ean  Tragedy.  133 

(If  that  her  mother  thus  her  course  assist) 

Whil'st  I  performe  that  which  I  have  in  minde, 

Who  dare  presume  my  purpose  to  resist? 

For,  whil'st  this  friendship  dotli  my  name  renowne, 

It  may  my  thoughts  from  further  feare  seclude : 

Since  having  thus  a  title  to  the  crowne, 

As  one  engrafted  in  the  royall  bloud. 

Euin.  I  feare  that  this  your  purpose  to  prevent, 
A  number  now  take  armes  all  in  one  forme, 
As  those  whose  feares  conjecture  your  intent, 
And  by  the  lowring  clouds  fore-know  a  storme. 
Already  many  do  together  runne, 
Who  for  our  ruine  wonderfully  thirst. 

Per.  Where  do  you  think  that  we  should  then  begin, 
And  exercise  hostility  at  first? 

Ewn.  Though  we  our  selves  in  strangers  thrones 
enstall, 
And  (having  Asia  to  subjection  brought) 
Make  Nilus,  Indus,  and  Euphrates  thrall, 
Yet  all  those  victories  would  serve  for  nought, 
Whil'st  Maccdonie  doth  continue  free, 
(A  fertile  field  to  bring  brave  armies  forth) 
Which  (till  first  forc'd)  can  now  not  subject  be. 
And  ere  they  love  a  king,  must  prove  his  worth, 
"  Then  unto  those  who  seek  a  prince  in  armes, 
"  His  chiefest  realme  the  greatest  vantage  gives, 
"  Where  warres  (held  out)  are  alwayes  with  his  harmes, 
"  Since  that  his  foe  still  at  his  charges  lives; 
"  And  warres  protracted  with  a  peoples  losse, 
"  Do  from  their  soveraigne  alienate  their  love; 
"  They  lose  their  hearts,  whom  fortune  once  doth  crosse. 


134  Stirling's  Foe?ns. 

"  And  foil'd  at  home,  can  no  where  else  remove : " 
Who  Maccdonic  hath,  hath  still  the  best, 
Which  of  our  state  the  stately  mistrisse  is : 
As  which  with  courage  conquer'd  all  the  rest, 
And  but  depends  on  Mars,  as  onely  his : 
If  you  were  lord  of  that  undaunted  soyle, 
And  by  Olympias  countenanc'd  but  a  time, 
Straight  from  Antipatcr  all  would  recoyle, 
And,  bent  t'  undo  him,  we  would  finde  a  crime; 
To  you  who  are  a  Macedonian  borne, 
(If  match'd  with  Cleopatra,  great  in  pow'rs) 
The  Macedotiians  gladly  would  be  sworne. 
And  (if  commanding  them)  then  all  were  yours. 

Per.  Yet  this  opinion  partly  I  disprove, 
Which  would  not  (as  you  thinke)  our  troubles  end : 
For,  if  we  do  from  hence  our  force  remove, 
And  to  th'  ^niathian  bounds  directly  tend, 
There  must  at  first  a  doubtful!  warre  be  prov'd. 
With  those  brave  bands  whose  valour  is  well  known  : 
Of  whom  Craterus  dearly  is  belov'd; 
Antipater  is  borne,  and  bred  their  owne. 
And  though  indeed  (as  kindly  to  those  parts) 
My  friendship  may  affected  be  by  some, 
Yet  those  who  start  in  time  by  many  arts. 
May  under-myne  their  mindes  before  we  come. 
Then  whil'st  we  trouble  Alacedonie  most, 
And  leave  those  realmes  unarm'd  which  now  are  ours, 
Straight  Ptolojnie  when  strengthned  is  his  host. 
May  (like  a  tempest)  swallow  Asia's  pow'rs. 
I,  for  the  time  most  willingly  would  take 
The  course  which  seemes  to  make  our  state  most  sure : 


The  Akxa?idr(Ean  Tragedy.  135 

"  A  foe  is  dangerous,  when  behinde  ones  backe, 

"  (Who  whil'st  not  look'd  for)  may  our  harme  procure." 

My  purpose  is,  though  yet  to  none  made  knowne, 

That  Egypt  first  shall  burden'd  be  with  warre : 

For,  if  that  Ptolomie  were  once  o'rethrowne, 

Then  that  from  Greece  all  hope  of  help  would  barre. 

Eum.  Hold  still  with  you  those  of  the  sacred  bloud, 
Whom  to  protect  you  alvvayes  must  pretend : 
"  The  count'nance  of  the  great,  may  do  much  good, 
"  Whom  still  (though  weake)  all  glory  to  attend." 

\_Exeunt. 


ACT   III.       SCENE   II. 

OlympiaSy  Roxane. 

Olyinp.  Let  sorrow  prove  a  tyrant  to  my  soule. 
Whose  rage  with  reason  now  no  measure  keeps; 
What  of  my  teares  the  torrent  can  controull, 
Since  flowing  from  afflictions  deepest  deeps? 
How  can  my  breast  but  burst  whil'st  sobs  rebound, 
Since  once  the  seat  of  joyes  now  not  the  same? 
May  not  huge  horrours  presse  me  to  the  ground. 
In  thinking  what  I  was,  and  what  I  am? 
I  was  a  great  mans  wife,  a  greaters  mother, 
Even  she  to  whom  the  heavens  their  best  did  give; 
Yet  I,  even  I,  more  plagu'd  then  any  other. 
In  dungeons  now  of  desolation  live. 
My  Sonne  who  was  the  glory  of  his  time, 
Staine  of  times  past,  and  light  of  times  to  come, 
(O  fraile  mortality!  O  slippery  slyme!) 


136  Stirling' s  Poems. 

Though  having  all  o'recom'd,  death  did  o'recome. 

And  I  (dejected  wretch)  whose  dying  eyes 

(By  natures  custome  bound)  he  should  have  clos'd, 

Was  not  to  shut  his  starres  with  th'  yvory  skies, 

Which  curtain'd  once  where  majesty  repos'd : 

But  ah !  his  falling  in  a  forraine  part 

Hath  (if  ought  can  enlarge)  enlarg'd  my  griefe, 

Or  else  on  him  I  melted  had  my  heart, 

And  spent  my  selfe  to  purchase  his  reliefe. 

Yet  though  I  was  not  present  at  his  death, 

He  shall  not  be  defrauded  of  my  teares : 

But  for  his  funerall  fires  my  flaming  breath 

Shall  smoak,  and  to  his  ghost  a  tribute  beares. 

Rox.  Ah !  to  what  corner  rolls  my  watrie  sight, 
Where  it  not  findes  some  matter  to  bemone? 

0  foolish  eyes !  why  lose  ye  not  your  light. 
Since  your  delight  is  lost,  your  object  gone? 
Once  of  all  queenes  I  might  the  fortune  scorne, 
To  whom  just  love  that  great  man  did  engage, 
Whose  match  in  worth  the  world  hath  never  borne, 
Nor  never  shall  enrich  another  age. 

When  those  perfections  do  transport  my  minde. 
Which  admiration  doth  disclose  too  late ; 

1  curse  the  fates  that  did  his  judgement  binde. 
To  make  me  partner  of  so  high  a  state. 

And  I  repent  that  to  his  sight  I  past 
(Though  highly  grac'd)  once  on  a  festuall  day, 
A  feast  which  many  a  time  must  make  me  fast. 
And  with  slow  woe  that  flying  mirth  defray; 
Then  if  my  fortune  had  not  blinded  me, 
But  ah!  whose  judgement  had  it  not  bereav'd? 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  137 

Whir  St  that  great  monarch  daign'd  to  Uke  of  me, 
Of  my  high  liight  I  had  the  fall  conceiv'd. 
Of  Asids  prince  whose  state  did  then  decline, 
He  both  the  wife,  and  daughters  had  at  will, 
Whose  beauties  lustre  might  have  darkned  mine, 
Yet  free  from  snares  restrain'd  his  fancies  still. 
And  when  my  father  chose  out  from  the  rest 
Those  virgins  all  whom  fame  affirm'd  for  rare; 
Though  having  view'd  them  all,  he  lov'd  me  best. 
Then  thought  most  fortunate,  if  not  most  faire; 
And  when  this  match  his  nobles  all  dismai'd, 
That  he  himselfe  with  captives  had  alli'd : 
That  act,  he  then  (as  love  had  dited)  said 
Took  from  the  vanquish'd  shame,  from  victors  pride ; 
Yet  me  (as  empresse)  all  did  entertaine. 
Though  his  inferiour  farre  in  all  respects, 
Till  I  from  him  by  death  divorc'd  remaine, 
Whom  with  his  sonne  now  all  the  world  neglects. 

Olynip.  Although  this  will  but  aggravate  my  woe, 
From  whom  the  fates  all  comfort  now  seclude. 
Yet  I  do  tender  his  remembrance  so, 
That  of  my  sonne  to  heare,  it  doth  me  good ; 
And  (daughter)  now  to  double  my  distresse, 
Make  me  at  length  acquainted  with  his  death, 
That  sorrow  may  each  part  of  me  possesse, 
Sad  newes   mine   eares,  teares   eyes,  and  sighs   my 
breath. 

Rox.  Though  griefe  to  me  scarce  liberty  affords. 
To  presse  forth  passions  which  oppresse  my  minde, 
Yet  would  affection  wrestle  out  some  words 
To  speake  of  him  who  all  my  thoughts  confin'd ; 


138  Stirling' s  Poems. 

When  he  had  conquer'd  all  that  could  resist 

(A  monarchie  not  equall  with  his  minde) 

Still  in  his  haughty  course  he  did  insist, 

And  search'd  the  ocean  other  worlds  to  finde : 

But  when  from  it  his  navy  was  redeem'd, 

He  stood  in  doubt  where  trophees  next  to  reare : 

The  world  (though  large)  for  ,him  too  little  seem'd : 

His  minde  could  more  conceive,  then  nature  beare. 

Last  (ah !)  this  emp'rour  purpos'd  was  in  th'  end. 

At  Babylon  his  glories  hight  to  show, 

Where  all  the  world  his  coming  did  attend; 

As  love  above,  who  onely  raign'd  below. 

When  he  drew  neare  that  then  thrise  monarchs  seat, 

The  astrologians  by  their  skill  fore-told, 

What  danger  huge  was  threatned  to  his  state, 

The  which  else-where  might  better  be  contrould : 

But  he  who  was  not  capable  of  feare, 

And  could  not  muse  of  misadventures  then, 

Would  triumph  there,  and  the  worlds  scepter  beare, 

Back'd  with  moe  kings  then  other  kings  with  men. 

There  (as  a  god)  transporting  mortals  sights, 

(Which  mirth  with  mourning  I  must  still  record) 

He  spent,  or  lost  a  time,  in  all  delights, 

Which  fortune  could  (when  flatt'ring  most)  afford, 

Till  Thessaliis,  for  mischiefe  but  reserv'd. 

Once  to  his  house  invited  him  to  dine, 

Where  false  Cassander  at  the  table  serv'd, 

And  as  he  us'd  with  water  mixt  his  wine. 

Olynip.  Alas,  alas !  and  so  it  prov'd  in  th'  end, 
"  But  who  could  feare  a  benefited  friend?" 

Rox.  There  were  all  creatures  valued  for  their  worth, 


The  Alexandrccan  Tragedy.  139 

As  wholsome,  dainty,  sumptuous,  stately,  rare, 
Which  (forc'd  by  Pheebiis)  th'  easterne  reahiies  bring 

forth,* 
To  Hve  by  sea,  by  land,  or  in  the  ayre. 
Then  when  that  reason  drunk  with  pleasure  slept, 
Which  all  the  senses  with  abundance  stor'd. 
And  whil'st  (save  musicke)  nothing  measure  kept, 
With  Ceres,  Bacchus  onely  was  ador'd. 
Even  when  the  king  beginning  was  to  drinke, 
(As  strangely  mov'd)  he  thund'red  forth  a  grone : 
And  from  the  table  suddenly  did  shrinke, 
His  wonted  vigour  at  an  instant  gone ; 
Whil'st  he  was  softly  to  a  chamber  led. 
That  death  a  title  to  his  body  claim'd. 
The  sorrowing  souldiers  swarm'd  about  his  bed. 
With  looks  once  fierce,  then  for  compassion  fram'd : 
But  he  whom  victory  had  still  array'd, 
With  others  past  this  battell  bent  to  even. 
Did  look  like  one  whom  all  the  world  obey'd, 
And  boasted  shortly  then  to  take  the  heaven : 
Whil'st  (lightning  comfort  to  afflicted  bands) 
He  stretch' d  them  forth  to  kisse  in  severall  parts, 
By  sword  then  scepter  his  more  honour'd  hands, 
On  which,  it  seem'd,  they  melted  all  their  hearts. 
Last,  unto  them  those  gen'rous  words  he  told : 
Yet  to  my  life  my  death  doth  bring  no  blot : 
Thus,  to  dye  yong  in  yeares,  in  glory  old, 
Of  all  our  family  is  still  the  lot; 
And  since  no  worlds  are  resting  to  o'recome, 

■*  "In  Persia,  Arabia,  or  the  Ind's  brought  forth 

That  walk,  that  swim,  that  flie,  that  grow,  were  there. " — 1604. 


1 40  Stirling's  Poems. 

Life  serves  for  nought;  I  did  an  empire  found: 

Liv'd,  warr'd,  and  raign'd  (all  done)  for  which  I  come: 

Then  goe  great  ghost  (not  griev'd)  below  the  ground. 

No  further  weighing  what  belong'd  to  life, 

He  with  a  count'nance  constant  even  in  death, 

(As  too  victorious  in  that  fatall  strife) 

The  ayre  perfuming,  spent  th'  imperious  breath. 

But  through  the  campe  when  that  it  once  was  knowne, 

That  from  the  world  that  world  of  worth  was  gone. 

What  anguish  was,  it  cannot  well  be  showne, 

I  had  my  part,  yet  had  not  all  alone. 

O !  let  that  day  which  makes  my  dayes  all  night, 
Be  registred  amongst  the  dismall  dayes. 
Whose  melancholy,  and  portentuous  light 
With  some  disaster  still  the  world  dismayes. 
And  Babyloji,  curst  be  thy  fatall  towres, 
Once  seate  of  monarchs,  mistresse  of  the  earth, 
But  from  hence-forth  (a  slave  to  forraine  pow'rs) 
Still  burden'd  be  thy  bounds  with  bloud  and  dearth. 

Olymp.  You  need  not  use  those  execrations  more. 
Though  Babylon  of  breath  that  prince  depriv'd, 
Yet  (as  an  oracle  had  told  before) 
In  Alacedonie  was  his  death  contriv'd; 
Aiitipater  had  heard,  how  divers  times 
The  king  against  him  had  been  mov'd  to  wrath. 
And  damn'd  (as  guilty  of  opprobrious  crimes) 
His  Sonne  in  law  Liiiccstes  unto  death. 
Then  he  was  told,  the  king  did  strictly  try 
How  his  lievtenants  had  their  places  us'd, 
Still  making  all  as  traitours  straight  to  dye, 
Who  had  the  same  in  any  sort  abus'd; 


The  Alexandraan  Tragedy .  141 

Thus,  he  who  well  did  know  his  owne  misdeeds, 

Had  learn'd  by  others  what  he  might  expect, 

As  whose  ambitious  brest  in  pride  exceeds, 

And  alwayes  did  a  soveraignty  affect : 

But  when  Crater  us  was  to  have  his  place, 

And  he  requir'd  the  army  to  attend, 

He  thought  that  thus  time  would  some  means  embrace, 

To  plague  his  pride  with  a  deserved  end ; 

Then  to  prevent  that  which  I  thinke  was  still 

More  fear'd  by  him,  then  purpos'd  by  the  king. 

With  guilty  thoughts  oft  exercis'd  in  ill. 

He  sought  what  might  to  death  his  soveraigne  bring; 

And  this  the  traitour  compass'd  at  the  last, 

As  I  (alas!)  have  learn'd  (although  too  late) 

When  to  my  sonne,  his  sonne  Cassa/ider  past 

As  to  congratulate  his  prosp'rous  state; 

Then  in  his  company  he  did  retaine 

A  poyson  powerfull  where  it  was  employ' d, 

Whose  violence  no  metall  could  restraine. 

But  in  a  horses  hoofe  was  still  conveigh'd ; 

He  and  his  brother  fit  occasion  watch'd. 

And  for  their  prince  a  cup  of  poyson  made ; 

Thus  he  who  never  could  by  force  be  match'd, 

By  treason,  loe  (O  cruell  fate!)  lyes  dead. 

Rox.  And  could,  or  durst  those  traitors  be  so  bold, 
The  pillar  of  all  worth  to  undermine? 
But  (madame)  ah,  Antipater  of  old. 
Against  your  greatnesse  alwaies  did  repine. 
And  (I  remember)  on  a  time  he  sent 
A  messenger  of  rainde  to  make  you  bow. 
Who  to  your  sonne  a  letter  did  present 


142  Stirling's  Poems. 

Full  of  invectives  to  discredit  you ; 

The  king  whilst  reading  what  it  did  comprise, 

Did  smile  with  scorne,  then  to  Hephestion  say : 

In  writing  of  such  things  he  is  not  wise, 

Which  straight  one  mothers  teare  will  wipe  away. 

Olymp.  I    oft   inform 'd  my   sonne    (strange   waies 
devis'd) 
How  that  disloyall  man  striv'd  to  be  great: 
But  as  a  womans  wit,  mine  was  despis'd, 
And  construed  still  unto  the  sense  of  hate. 
Yet  of  my  sonne  (I  thought)  the  deeds  were  such, 
That  all  men  them  admir'd,  none  envy  could; 
And  that  none  durst  his  sacred  person  touch, 
Whom  men  ador'd,  and  love  as  his  did  hold. 
How  oft  have  I  those  bitter  throwes  allow'd, 
By  which  I  brought  that  demi-god  to  light '? 
And  well  I  might  of  such  a  birth  be  proud, 
Which  made  me  glorious  in  the  peoples  sight; 
Though  divers  too  (as  I  have  some  time  knowne) 
To  draw  his  love  from  me  did  wayes  prepare. 
Yet  were  their  slights  by  dutious  love  o'rethrowne, 
And  I  respected  with  a  reverend  care. 
His  tender  love  to  me  was  much  extold, 
Then  when  he  sought  to  stablish  a  decree, 
That  with  immortals  I  might  be  enrold, 
And  (as  a  goddesse)  honours  have  to  me. 
Ah !  how  can  I  this  tragicke  time  survive, 
Who  lost  a  sonne  so  great,  a  sonne  so  kinde"? 
And  all  the  meanes  which  make  me  now  to  live, 
Is  with  revenge  a  hope  to  ease  my  minde. 

Rox.  His  love  to  you  it  could  not  but  abound. 


The  Alexandman  Tragedy.  143 

(By  nature,  parents  of  their  owne  are  lov'd) 

Since  those  to  whom  he  by  no  band  was  bound, 

Of  his  humanity  the  fruits  have  prov'd. 

His  clemency  did  make  his  state  more  sure. 

Then  all  the  terrours  rising  from  his  name, 

Which  whilst  he  liv'd,  did  publike  love  procure, 

And  after  death  a  never  dying  fame. 

Old  Sisigambis  lifting  up  her  heart, 

(Of  her  owne  sonnes  the  death  who  had  surviv'd) 

To  Alexander  did  that  love  impart, 

Which  was  to  Darius  due  while  as  he  liv'd ; 

But  when  these  tidings  wounded  had  her  eares, 

That  heaven  from  th'  earth  had  rob'd  that  praise  of 

men: 
(Whilst  all  dissolv'd  in  flouds  of  bitter  teares) 
She  hated  life,  as  never  spoil'd  till  then. 
Her  widow'd  nephew  groning  at  her  feet, 
Who  of  Hephestion  did  the  death  bewaile. 
In  depths  of  woe  she  (drown'd  with  teares)  did  fleet, 
Till  that  o'rewhelm'd,  her  strength  began  to  faile ; 
Then  barr'd  from  food,  she  groveling  did  abide, 
Till  that  hfes  course  (then  hastened  fast)  was  runne : 
Thus  she  surviv'd  her  sonne,  yet  with  him  dy'd, 
In  whom  she  found  the  kindnesse  of  a  sonne. 

Olymp.  If  but  when  hearing  this  his  tragicke  end, 
A  stranger  (once  his  captive)  dy'd  for  griefe. 
Ah,  shall  his  mother  yet  on  hope  depend. 
As  such  a  losse  might  looke  for  some  reliefe  % 
And  yet  I  will,  for  'twere  a  great  disgrace 
To  me  the  mother  of  that  matchlesse  man,  ' 

(Like  other  women)  to  give  fortune  place, 


144  Stirlmg's  Poems. 

And  faintly  yeeld  as  vulgar  wretches  can. 

Though  griefe  at  first  must  moUifie  me  once, 

Or  (as  unnaturall)  I  might  be  admir'd 

Yet  will  I  not  still  burst  my  brest  with  grones ; 

Then  that,  of  me  more  courage  is  requir'd, 

I'le  not  degener  from  my  generous  kinde, 

"  (Faint-hearted  hindes  brought  never  lyon  forth) 

"  Nor  yet  a  mother  of  an  abject  minde, 

"  Had  never  borne  a  monarch  of  such  worth." 

And  O !  who  knowes,  but  once  the  time  may  come. 

That  I  to  venge  my  selfe  a  meanes  may  have? 

Whilst  those  vile  traitors  ruin'd  are  by  some, 

Who  with  their  bloud  may  bath  their  soveraigns  grave. 

Now  on  Pcrdiccas  I  repose  my  trust. 

Who  with  Eitmenes  would  our  wrongs  redresse ; 

Their  valour  (ventring  in  a  cause  so  just) 

By  all  appearance,  promise  doth  no  lesse. 

Rox.  Loe,  now  of  late  delivered  of  a  sonne, 
I  to  those  captaines  scarce  dare  make  it  knowne, 
His  kingdomes  all  to  part  who  have  begunne, 
And  might  (by  killing  him)  make  them  their  owne. 
Ah!  (madame)  this  doth  move  me  most  to  pause, 
Who  of  those  great  men  the  ambition  feare, 
Lest  by  pretending  but  a  publike  cause. 
They  seeke  themselves  the  diadem  to  beare. 
Thus,  they  of  my  yong  babe  (fraud  masking  wrath) 
Would  but  be  tutors  first,  and  traitors  then, 
Farre  from  obedience,  duty,  love  or  faith : 
"  No  things  more  deare  then  diadems  to  men." 

Olymp.  As  those  whose  courage  cannot  be  dismaid, 
Let  us  now  strive  what  way  a  force  to  finde  ; 


The  A iexatidraan  Tragedy.  145 

And  whilst  that  pitty  doth  procure  for  ayde, 

The  peoples  passions  tune  unto  our  niinde. 

If  that  their  love  not  vanish'd  with  his  life, 

Oi  Alexander  (in  a  high  degree) 

I  thinke  the  sonne,  the  mother,  and  the  wife. 

By  Macedonians  still  must  reverenc'd  be. 

And  this  doth  with  disdaine  my  soule  consume, 

That  Aridcus  amongst  other  wrongs. 

And  proud  Euridice  his  wife  presume 

To  take  the  honour  which  to  us  belongs. 

O!  they  shall  finde  my  fortune  not  so  chang'd. 

But  I  am  able  yet  to  curbe  their  pride : 

Whaf?  what]   Olympias  must  be  reveng'd, 

And  (save  her  selfe)  no  queene  she  can  abide. 

\F.xeHnt. 

Chorus. 

Loe,  how  all  good  decayes. 
And  ills  doe  now  abound ; 
"  In  this  sky-compass' d  round, 
"  There  is  no  kinde  of  trust : 
"  For,  man-kinde  whilst  it  strayes 
"  In  pleasure-paved  wayes, 
"With  flouds  of  vice  is  drown'd;" 
And  doth  (farre  from  refuge) 
In  endlesse  shadowes  lodge, 
Yet  strives  to  rise  no  more  : 
"  No  doubt  (as  most  unjust) 
"  The  world  once  perish  must." 
And  worse  now  to  restore, 

VOL.    II.  L 


146  St irli fig's  Poems. 

Then  it  was  of  before, 
When  at  the  last  deluge, 
Men  by  Deucalion  once 
Were  made  againe  of  stones; 
And  well  this  wicked  race 
Bevvrayes  a  stony  kinde, 
Which  beares  a  stubborne  minde, 
Still  hardned  unto  sinne. 
Loe,  now  in  every  place 
All  vertuous  motions  cease, 
And  sacred  faith  we  finde, 
Farre  from  the  earth  is  fled, 
Whose  flight  huge  mischiefe  bred, 
And  filles  the  world  with  warres, 
Whilst  impious  brests  begin 
To  let  base  treason  in : 
Which  common  concord  marres, 
Whilst  all  men  live  at  jarres, 
And  nets  of  fraud  doe  spreade, 
The  simple  to  surprise, 
Too  witty,  but  not  wise; 
Yet  those  who  in  deceit 
Their  confidence  repose, 
A  thing  more  deare  doe  lose 
Then  can  by  guile  be  gain'd ; 
Which  when  repented  late, 
May  ruine  once  their  state, 
Whilst  purer  sprites  disclose 
With  what  their  breasts  are  stor'd; 
For,  though  they  would  remord. 
They  get  not  trust  againe; 


The  AlexandrcBaii  Tragedy.  147 

But,  having  honour  stain'd, 

And  covenants  prophan'd, 

Are  held  in  high  disdaine, 

"  And  doe  in  end  remaine, 

"  Of  all  the  world  abhorr'd ; 

"  Not  trusty  when  they  should, 

"  Not  trusted  when  they  would  :" 

But  ah !  our  nobles  now, 

Loe,  like  Lysander  still. 

So  that  they  get  their  will, 

Regard  not  by  what  way, 

And  with  a  shamelesse  brow, 

Doe  of  the  end  allow. 

Even  though  the  meanes  were  ill; 

Which  all  the  world  may  see, 

Disgraceth  their  degree, 

Who  (changing  every  houre) 

Doe  all  base  slights  assay; 

What  can  brave  mindes  dismay, 

Whose  worth  is  like  a  tower. 

Against  all  fortunes  povv'r, 

Still  from  all  fraud  whilst  free? 

"  These  keepe  their  course  unknowne, 

"Whom  it  would  shame  if  showne:" 

Who  not  from  worth  digresse. 

To  slights  which  feare  imparts. 

Doe  shew  heroicke  hearts. 

The  which  would  rather  farre 

An  open  hate  professe, 

Then  basely  it  suppresse: 

"  No  glory  comes  from  fearefuU  arts  : " 


148  Stirling's  Poems. 

But  those  who  doe  us  leade, 
As  for  dissembhng  made, 
Even  though  that  they  intend 
Amongst  themselves  to  warre, 
Seeme  in  no  sort  to  jarre, 
But  friendship  doe  pretend, 
Not  Hke  their  lord  now  dead, 
Who  trusting  to  his  worth, 
Still  what  he  meant  spake  forth ; 
The  great  men  not  for  nought, 
Doe  seeke  the  peoples  love : 
Their  deeds  that  to  approve, 
They  may  their  mindes  allure : 
But  Perdiccas  is  thought 
Too  slowly  to  have  sought 
Their  doubtful!  mindes  to  move, 
As  one  who  still  conceits 
He  may  command  the  fates; 
His  pride  so  great  is  growne, 
That  none  can  it  endure; 
Yet  stands  his  state  unsure, 
Since  odious  to  his  owne : 
"  He  must  be  once  o'rethrowne, 
"  Whose  humour  each  man  hates, 
"  Pride  doth  her  followers  all, 
"  Leade  headlongs  to  a  fall." 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  149 

ACT    IV.      SCENE   I. 

Antigonus,  Eumcncs. 

Ant.  Though  stormy  discord,  and  tumultuous  wars, 
Doe  fire  the  mindes  of  men  witli  flames  of  rage, 
That  (hauing  haughty  thoughts,  as  heaven  hath  starres) 
Their  indignation  nothing  can  asswage : 
Yet  Ice,  amongst  the  souldiers  waving  bowres, 
The  heraulds  cryes  doe  calme  the  trumpets  sounds ; 
And  peace  dare  interpose  unarmed  pow'rs. 
To  limit  for  a  time  Bellond s  bounds; 
And  (whilst  of  fury  they  suspend  th'  effects) 
The  seeming-friended  foes  together  treat, 
And  every  one  shewes  what  his  soule  aff"ects, 
Of  peace  a  shadow :  th'  essence  must  be  great. 
Thus  men  magnanimous  amidst  the  field, 
Dare  of  their  en'mies  to  the  promise  trust. 
And  (loathing  what  disloyaltie  doth  yeeld) 
Not  violate  their  vowes,  nor  prove  unjust. 
"  Though  love  be  past,  yet  truth  should  still  remaine. 
"  I  vertuous  parts  even  in  my  foes  applaud; 
"  A  gallant  minde  doth  greater  glory  gaine, 
"  To  dye  with  honour,  then  to  live  by  fraud.'" 
And  why  {Eu7nejics)  as  mistrusting  me. 
Or  standing  on  your  reputation  long, 
Did  you  disdaine  to  seeke  (as  all  men  see) 
A  greater  then  your  selfe,  and  one  more  strong? 

Euni.  Though  we  come  not  to  plead  our  birth-right 
here. 
Let  him  (for  warriours  so  should  take  their  place) 


1 50  Stirling's  Poems. 

In  whom  best  signes  of  noblenesse  appeare, 
Be  grac'd,  as  first  who  doth  adorne  a  race; 
Most  noble  he  who  still  by  vertue  strives, 
To  leave  his  name  in  mindes  of  men  engrav'd, 
And  to  his  off-spring  greater  glory  gives, 
Then  from  his  ancestors  he  hath  receiv'd. 
Earst,  we  by  birth  in  warre  not  marshal'd  stood, 
As  at  the  table,  upon  ivory  beds; 
"  A  souldiers  worth  consists  not  in  his  bloud, 
"  But  in  their  bloud  which  (as  his  foes)  he  sheds," 
What  ever  others  of  my  linage  try, 
I  am  Emnenes,  and  will  not  accord, 
That  there  can  be  a  greater  man  then  I, 
While  as  I  have  a  heart,  a  hand,  a  sword. 

Ant.  "  Loe,  when  prosperity  too  much  prevailes, 
"  Above  the  judgement  thus  of  vulgar  mindes, 
"  As  little  barges  burden' d  with  great  sayles, 
"  They  move  in  state,  all  swolne  with  fortunes  windes : 
"  And  as  adversity  the  sprite  refines 
"  From  th'  abject  drosse  of  pride,  and  passions  base, 
"  That  in  affliction,  vertue  clearest  shines, 
"  And  makes  one  all  the  wayes  of  wit  to  trace : 
"  So  doth  good  successe  make  the  judgement  dye, 
"  Then  whilst  the  fortunate  their  ease  doe  take, 
"  And  lull'd  asleep  in  pleasures  meadowes  lye, 
"  As  for  the  slaughter  fat,  and  ripe  to  shake; 
"  Yet  this  the  nature  is  of  gallant  men, 
"  To  rest  (as  in  no  state  too  much  involv'd) 
"  When  prosp'ring  warie,  and  most  humble  then, 
"  If  cross'd  couragious,  when  imbark'd,  resolv'd." 
What  though  your  first  attempts  renowned  are. 


The  Alexandrian  Tragedy.  1 5 1 

By  which  you  in  two  fields  victorious  stood, 

And  did  o're-throw  two  thunder-bolts  of  warre, 

Who  lost  their  lives  amid'st  a  crimson  flood : 

Yet  is  that  course  of  victory  contrould, 

And  you  have  try'd  what  force  your  force  exceeds, 

Then,  faded  lawrels  should  not  make  you  bold. 

As  still  reposing  on  your  by-past  deeds : 

For,  by  the  fame  to  indignation  mov'd, 

The  Macedonians  all  abhorre  your  name. 

Who  at  that  time  so  proud  a  conquerour  prov'd, 

Their  great  mens  slaughter  having  wing'd  your  fame. 

Eiuii.  No  fortune  past  so  puffes  up  my  conceit, 
That  it  contempt  of  further  danger  brings  : 
Nor  am  I  now  dejected  so  of  late, 
But  I  intend  to  doe  farre  greater  things. 
"  He  (by  prosperity  made  never  proud) 
"  Who  knowes  the  frailty  of  this  earthly  frame, 
"  Can  hardly  by  adversity  be  bow'd : 
"  The  sunne  (although  eclips'd)  remaines  the  same. 
"  Worth  should  by  th'  events  not  be  thrall'd  to  wit, 
"  On  th'  accidents  as  th'  essence  did  depend : 
"  The  fault  of  fortune  cannot  blemish  it, 
"  On  which  oft  times  disasters  may  attend; 
"  Though  fortune  (stumbling  right)  concurre  with  worth, 
"  Or  yet,  it  crosses  bragge  a  gallant  minde, 
"  Both  like  themselves  are  alwaies  sparkling  forth, 
"  In  every  state  some  tokens  of  their  kinde." 
Now  at  this  time  o're-match'd  by  num'rous  pow'rs, 
I  kept  my  courage,  though  I  lost  the  field : 
And  vaunt  no  more  of  this,  for  some  few  hours 
May  once  to  me  the  like  advantage  yeeld. 


152  Stirling's  Poems. 

Nor  is  it  long  since  that  to  fortune  deare. 
The  world  had  never  me  but  victor  spy'd, 
Though  I  protest  by  all  th'  immortals  here, 
Press'd  by  necessity,  not  mov'd  by  pride. 
Proud  Ncopiokmus  that  traytour  still, 
(Not  worthy  of  a  Macedonians  name) 
He  to  betray  the  hoste,  and  me  to  kill, 
Had  labour'd  long  to  his  eternall  shame. 
But  I  of  Cratenis  lament  the  fall, 
Whom  for  his  vertue  I  did  dearely  love, 
And  was  constrain'd  (I  love  to  witnesse  call) 
For  my  defence  that  refuge  last  to  prove. 

Ajit.  How  fortun'd  you  your  forces  to  dispose. 
So  well  to  scape  that  storme  of  threatned  harmes^ 
For,  then  you  had  to  deale  with  mighty  foes. 
Who  were  in  warre  growne  hoarie  under  armes. 

Eiim.  When  Neoptolemiis  did  clearely  spy, 
That  all  his  treason  to  the  light  was  brought, 
He,  where  our  foes  were  camp'd,  with  haste  did  flye : 
"  A  foolish  traitour  who  was  false  for  nought." 
There  he  inform'd,  or  mis-inform'd  my  foes. 
That  (by  good  successe  growne  secure  of  late) 
I  in  my  tent  did  carelesly  repose. 
Though  not  by  force,  to  be  o'recom'd  by  fate. 
And  to  Antipater  he  further  told, 
That  Macedonians,  if  they  at  that  time, 
Of  Cratenis  the  count'nance  did  behold. 
All  willingly  would  yeeld  themselves  to  him : 
Now  they  had  labour'd  earnestly  before. 
That  I  abandon  would  Perdiccas  part, 
And  did  protest  that  they  would  give  me  more 


The  Alexandrian  T7'agedy.  153 

Then  yet  I  had,  or  hop'd  for  in  my  heart. 

"  But  love  (born  free)  cannot  be  thrall'd  nor  bought, 

"  More  then  a  shameful!  peace  I  like  just  strife; 

"  To  generous  mindes  more  deare  then  honour  nought; 

"  And  ere  I  leave  my  faith,  I'le  lose  my  life :" 

Thus  when  despair'd  that  I  would  prove  their  friend, 

They  sought  in  time  to  plague  me  as  a  foe, 

Where  love  could  not  begin,  that  hate  might  end. 

And  came  in  haste  to  have  surpris'd  me  so ; 

But  Neoptolcimis  to  crosse  by  slight, 

The  Macedonians  I  for  him  did  bend, 

And  Craterus  concealing  from  their  sight. 

To  match  with  him,  caus'd  troupes  of  strangers  tend. 

This  policy  which  none  could  justly  blame, 

I  with  my  selfe  in  secret  did  conspire, 

And  had  my  shirt  beene  privy  to  the  same, 

It  should  have  beene  an  offring  to  the  fire. 

When  deaths  first  game  (wath  danger  playd)  was  past, 

I  Neoptolcmus  did  toile  to  finde, 

And  he  me  too,  which  happ'ned  at  the  last; 

"  Two  will  doe  much  to  meet,  when  of  one  minde." 

Then  whilst  we  met  for  whom  both  th'  armies  warr  d, 

Whose  fortune  did  depend  upon  our  hands, 

All  was  perform'd  that  force  or  fury  dar'd, 

Whilst  both  were  bent  t'  abate  the  others  bands. 

And  yet  the  heavens  would  not  betray  my  trust, 

("  Foule  treason  never  had  a  fairer  end") 

But  smil'd  upon  my  cause  (as  which  was  just) 

And  did  destruction  to  the  traitour  send : 

For,  forc'd  by  him  whose  force  he  did  despise, 

(Though  fighting  fiercely  long)  he  lost  his  breath, 


154  Siirli?ig''s  Poems. 

As  one  more  strong  then  true,  more  stout  then  wise, 

Whose  greatest  honour  was  his  honest  death. 

But  weakened  with  huge  wounds,  ahiiost  I  div'd 

In  seas  of  bloud,  even  quite  from  knowledge  stray'd ; 

Yet  by  so  great  a  victory  reviv'd, 

My  courage  grew  more  then  my  strength  decay'd. 

I  (having  finish'd  thus  this  fatall  strife) 

Did  come  where  Cratenis  his  course  had  runne, 

Even  in  the  confines  plac'd  'twixt  death  and  life, 

The  one  neere  gone,  the  other  not  begun : 

He  with  great  valour  had  resisted  long, 

As  all  Bf'iareus  hands  had  mov'd  his  sword, 

And  did  his  masters  memory  no  wrong, 

Whilst  with  his  courage,  not  his  fortune  stor'd. 

"  What  life  refus'd,  to  gaine  by  death  he  thought : 

"  For,  life  and  death  are  but  indifferent  things, 

"  And  of  themselves  not  to  be  shun'd,  nor  sought, 

"  But  for  the  good  or  ill  that  either  brings." 

With  endlesse  glory  bent  to  change  his  breath, 

Of  desp'rate  valour  all  the  pow'r  was  prov'd, 

"  And  for  great  captaines  no  more  glorious  death, 

"  Then  to  dy  fighting  with  a  minde  unmov'd." 

When  it  appear'd  where  victory  did  tend. 

That  armies  courage  with  their  captaine  fell ; 

And  whilst  I  safely  might  be  scene  a  friend, 

I  went  where  death  his  spirits  did  expell; 

And  whilst  I  told  how  both  to  be  betrayd. 

By  Neoptoleniiis  were  brought  about, 

My  woe  with  teares  I  to  the  world  bewray'd : 

''  Milde  pitty  and  true  kindenesse  must  burst  out." 

Ah,  if  the  nevves  of  this  that  I  expresse 


The  A lexandrcean  Tragedy.  155 

Had  come  in  time  unto  Perdiccas  eares, 

He  might  have  liv'd  their  pride  now  to  represse, 

Who  by  his  fall  were  first  divorc'd  from  feares. 

Ant.  The  humour  of  that  man  was  too  well  knowne, 
Could  he  have  parted  other  men  from  pride, 
Whose  soule  was  sold  a  slave  unto  his  owne, 
And  for  the  same  (forc'd  by  his  followers)  dy'd  % 

Eutn.  "  The  proud  must  still  be  plagu'd  by  prouder 

ones, 
"  There  must  be  had  sharp  steel  to  smooth  rough 

stones." 

Ant.  "  No  vice  then  pride  doth  greater  hate  procure, 
"  Which  foes  doe  scorne,  and  friends  cannot  endure." 

Eum.  "  Yet  majesty  must  not  it  selfe  deject; 
"  A  lofty  carriage  doth  procure  respect." 

Ant.  "  A  haughty  gesture  shewes  a  tyrants  heart ; 
"All  love  a  courteous  count'nance,  voyd  of  art." 

Eum.  "  Yet  manners  too  submisse  as  much  con- 
demn'd, 
"  Doe  make  kings  scorn'd,andcaptaines  be  contemn' d." 

Ant.  "  A  humble  port,  kinde  looks,  words  smooth 
and  soft, 
"  Are  meanes  by  which  great  mindes  may  mount  aloft." 

Ewn.  "  Those  are  indeed  for  such  as   raise  their 
flight, 
"  They  may  doe  more  whose  course  is  at  the  height : 
"  Imperious  formes  an  empire  must  defend." 

Ant.  Thus  hastned  was  Perdiccas  to  his  end. 

Eum.  That  worthy  man  had  many  faire  designes, 
"  But  vertue  still  by  envy  is  pursu'd, 
"  Though  (as  a  candle  in  the  night  best  shines) 


156  Stirling'' s  Poems. 

"  It  in  a  vitious  age  may  best  be  view'd. " 

There  was  a  man  who  scorn'd  secure  delights, 

As  still  despising  paine,  attemptive,  bold, 

A  brave  observer  of  the  antient  rites, 

Steele  strictly  grasping,  prodigall  of  gold  ; 

He  lov'd  to  have  the  souldiers  of  his  band, 

Chus'd  at  the  musters,  not  in  markets  bought, 

And  would  not  flatter  where  he  might  command, 

More  meet  to  have,  than  seeke  that  which  he  sought ; 

But  souldiers  now  in  this  degener'd  age, 

Are  (fawn'd  on  by. faint  mindes)  brib'd  in  such  sort. 

That  all  the  reynes  enlarg'd  unto  the  rage. 

They  with  so  straight  a  course  cannot  comport. 

What  was  misfortune  knowne  unto  them  all, 

Their  malice  as  some  great  neglect  did  cite : 

"All  things  must  helpe  th'  unhappy  men  to  fall," 

Thus  forth  they  spu'd  the  poyson  of  their  spite, 

For,  hating  his  franke  forme,  and  naked  words, 

By  that  occasion  whetting  their  desires. 

They  in  his  body  boldly  sheath'd  their  swords, 

A  deed  which  even  barbarity  admires. 

Those  trait'rous  troups  may  spot  the  purest  bands. 

If  for  a  fact  so  vile  they  be  excus'd : 

This  will  set  swords  in  all  our  souldiers  hands, 

Against  us,  and  not  for  us,  to  be  us'd. 

Ant.  I  wish  that  souldiers  never  could  be  brought 
To  prove  so  mut'nous  as  they  oft  have  beene. 
And  that  they  durst  not  violate  in  ought. 
Those  who  by  them  (as  sacred)  should  be  scene : 
Nor  like  I  captaines  who  (like  blustring  windes) 
Would  o're  their  troupes  insult  (as  tyrants  still), 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  157 

Not  weighing  merits,  nor  respecting  mindes, 

As  carried  head-long  with  a  Winded  will. 

"  Pride  by  presumption  bred  (when  at  a  height) 

"  EncountYing  with  contempt  both  match  in  ire, 

"  And  'tvvixt  them  bring  base  cruelty  to  light, 

"  The  loath-some  off-spring  of  a  hated  syre." 

Such  oi  Fcrdiccas  was  the  monstrous  pride, 

(The  vice  from  which  that  vice  more  vile  proceeds) 

That  it  strange  wayes  for  his  advancement  try'd. 

And  did  burst  forth  in  most  prodigious  deeds; 

At  first  by  Mclcagers  death  when  stain'd. 

He  show'd  what  tyrants  harbour' d  in  his  heart, 

To  whom  faith  given,  nor  yet  the  church  he  gain'd, 

(Though  sacred  both)  no  safety  could  impart. 

The  Cappadocians  (when  all  else  was  try'd) 

Choos'd  (rather  then  his  insolence  to  beare) 

By  massacring  themselves  to  scape  from  pride : 

"  Pride,  spight  and  horrour,  death  breeds  onely  feare." 

Yet  what  against  his  foes  he  did  performe, 

From  martiall  mindes  might  pleade  for  some  excuse, 

Since  irritated  thoughts  which  (wrong'd)  doe  storme, 

In  mindes  offended,  fury  doe  infuse : 

But  yet  why  sought  he  in  a  servile  sort 

To  play  the  tyrant,  braving  his  best  friends, 

Who  with  disdainefull  formes  could  not  comport? 

"  More  then  an  enemies  yoke,  a  friends  offends." 

And  when  of  late  by  Ptolomie  constrain'd. 

He  brought  his  bands  with  disadvantage  backe, 

How  by  the  same  his  governement  was  stayn'd, 

The  world  can  witnesse  by  his  armies  wracke : 

"  But  hate  made  judge,  each  errour  seems  a  crime, 


158  Stirling's  Poems. 

'•  Whilst  present  ils  doe  aggravate  things  gone:" 
His  souldiers  mov'd  by  fortune  and  the  time, 
Did  by  his  death  venge  all  their  wrongs  in  one. 

Einn.  "  As  nought  smels  well  to  a  distemper'd  taste, 
"  So  to  conceits  pre-occupy'd  before; 
"  Even  good  seemes  bad  in  them  whom  they  detest : 
"  Men  must  mislike  where  they  can  like  no  more." 
To  you  who  loath'd  Perdiccas  and  his  state, 
What  ever  came  of  him  could  not  seeme  good : 
And  I  not  wonder  though  your  soule  did  hate 
One  who  had  right  and  pow'r,  to  take  your  bloud : 
For,  fled  from  him  to  whom  you  once  belong'd, 
His  trumpet  still  breath'd  terrour  in  your  eare : 
"  Then   all  men  hate   those  whom  they  once   have 

wrong' d, 
"  And  by  no  meanes  can  love  them  whom  they  feare." 

A7it.  "  That  which  you  speake  of  hate,  in  love  I  spy, 
"  Love  cannot  finde  an  imperfection  forth, 
"  But  doth  excuse,  extenuate,  or  deny, 
"  Faults  (where  it  likes)  with  shadowes  of  no  worth  :  " 
I  left  Perdiccas,  but  did  him  no  wrpng, 
Who  first  to  take  my  life,  all  meanes  did  prove ; 
I  told  Antipater  how  he  so  long 
Had  been  abus'd  by  a  pretended  love: 
For,  as  I  frankely  love,  whilst  lov'd  againe, 
If  the  ingrate,  ingrately  me  acquite, 
Straight  kindling  fury  with  a  just  disdaine, 
I  by  love  past,  proportion  then  my  spite ; 
And  yet  {Eumenes)  I  commend  thy  minde, 
Who  to  defend  thy  friend,  hast  prov'd  so  free. 
And  since  in  love  so  constantly  incUn'd, 


The  Alexatidrffati  Tragedy.  159 

A  friendship  firme  I  would  contract  with  thee; 
Then  where  that  now  thy  state  hatli  been  brought  low, 
(Since  spoil'd  of  him  in  whom  thou  did'st  repose) 
Whilst  ayded  by  our  power,  thou  great  maist  grow. 
And  raise  thy  hopes  of  kingdomes  to  dispose. 

Eu??i.  rie  be  your  friend,  whilst  friend  to  right  you 
rest: 
"  For,  without  vertue,  friendship  is  but  vaine, 
"  Which  cannot  lodge  in  a  polluted  brest, 
"  Whose  impious  thoughts  do  sacred  things  prophane." 
While  as  the  oath  is  kept,  which  once  was  sworne 
To  Alexanders  selfe,  and  to  his  race, 
Still  shall  this  sword  for  your  defence  be  borne, 
But  in  my  heart  they  hold  the  highest  place ; 
And  doe  not  thus,  as  o're  one  vanquish'd,  vaunt, 
Nor  thinke  me  thrall'd,  though  once  by  chance  o're- 

throwne, 
"  The  world  must  perish  ere  advent'rers  want, 
"  Who  tosse  all  states  to  stablish  once  their  owne. 
"  Whil'st  bravely  taking  or  yet  giving  place, 
"  How  ever  feare  (objecting  danger)  comes, 
"  Misfortune,  bondage,  torment,  death,  disgrace. 
"  And  all  things  else,  a  minde  resolv'd  o'recomes. 


ACT   IV.      SCENE   II. 

Cassander,  Lysimachus. 

Cass.  "  And  must  we  buy  our  pompe  at  such  a  rate, 
"Who  beare  th'  authority,  or  whom  it  beares? 
"  O,  O !  how  thorny  are  the  wayes  of  state, 


i6o  Stirling's  Poems. 

"  With  open  dangers  pav'd,  and  secret  feares, 
"  Each  of  our  steps  is  waited  with  some  snare, 
"  Whil'st  from  our  selves  we  all  repose  repell, 
"  And  (in  fraile  barks)  press'd  by  tempestuous  care, 
"  Do  seek  a  haven,  whose  heaven  is  but  a  hell." 

Lys.  "  Whil'st  Eolus  and  Neptune  joyn'd  in  all, 
"  With  winds,  and  waves,  beat  th'  earth,  and  brag  the 

skies, 
"  The  tumbling  mountains  do  not  rise  and  fall, 
"  Though  each  of  them  another  doth  surprise  : 
"  As  do  th'  aspiring  pow'rs  which  are  with  doubt 
"  Toss'd  through  the  waving  world  on  stormy  thrones, 
"  And  are  (as  in  a  circle)  hurl'd  about, 
"  Ascending,  and  descending,  both  at  once. 
"  Loe,  some  whose  hopes  would  at  their  birth  have 

seem'd, 
"  By  fortunes  strictnesse,  with  contempt  confin'd, 
"  Have  from  the  vulgar  yoke  themselves  redeem'd, 
"  To  do  farre  more  then  such  durst  have  design'd ; 
"  And  they  who  once  might  life  to  thousands  give, 
"  When  some  great  period  revolutions  brings, 
"  Brought  downe  even  low  cannot  have  leave  to  live, 
"  Made  lesse  then  subjects,  who  were  more  then  kings." 
Cass.  What  once  they  scarce  could  dreame,  some 
thus  procure, 
Whose   pow'r   though    nought  at  first,  last,   scepters 

swayes; 
And  some  whose  states  seem'd  once  to  be  secure, 
Throwne  from  their  fortunes  height  lose  glorious  bayes : 
My  father,  loe,  to  gaine  that  soveraigne  place, 
Through  many  dangers  boldly  march'd  of  late, 


The  A kxandrcBan  Tragedy.  177 

And  did  such  monstrous  cruelties  commit, 

In  plaguing  Philip,  and  his  queene  of  late, 

Loe,  now  brought  low  to  taste  the  like  estate, 

Must  take  such  entertainment  as  she  gave, 

And  yet  good  reason  that  it  should  be  so — 

"  Such  measure  as  we  give,  we  must  receive." 

Whil'st  on  a  throne  she  proudly  earst  did  sit. 

And  with  disdainefuU  eyes  look'd  on  her  foe. 

As  onely  vanquish'd  by  her  pow'r,  and  wit, 

She  did  not  weigh  what  doth  proceed  from  fate : 

O,  O !  th'  immortals  which  command  above, 

Of  every  state  in  hand  the  rudder  have, 

And  as  they  like,  can  make  us  stay  or  go; 

"  The  griefe  of  others  should  us  greatly  move, 

"  As  those  who  sometime  may  like  fortune  prove; 

"  But  as  experience  with  rare  proofes  hath  showne, 

"  To  look  on  others,  we  have  Linx-\i\%  eyes, 

"  Whil'st  we  would  have  their  imperfections  knowne: 

"  Yet  (like  blinde  moles)  can  never  marke  our  owne. 

"  Such  clouds  of  selfe-regard  do  dimme  our  sight; 

"  Why  should  we  be  puff'd  up  when  foes  do  fall? 

"  Since  what  to  day  doth  on  another  light, 

"  The  same  to  morrow  may  our  state  surprise. 

"  Those  that  on  this  inconstant  constant  ball 

"  Do  live  environ'd  with  th'  all-circling  skies, 

"  Have  many  meanes  whereby  to  be  o'rethrowne : 

"  And  why  should  dying  worldlings  svvolne  with  wrath 

"  So  tyrannize  o'er  an  afflicted  wight, 

"  Since  miseries  are  common  unto  all? 

"  Let  none  be  proud  who  draw  a  doubtfull  breath, 

"  Good  hap  attends  but  few,  unto  their  death."  {Exeunt. 

VOL.    II.  N 


178  Siirling's  Poems. 


ACT  V.      SCENE  I. 

Aristotle,  Phocion. 

Aris.  Long  have  I  us'd  that  light  which  cleares  my 
miiide. 
On  natures  labours  curiously  to  look, 
And  (of  all  creatures  finding  out  the  kinde) 
Have  read  strange  wonders  in  the  worlds  great  book : 
I  mark  her  course  by  contraries  maintain'd, 
Whose  harmony  doth  most  subsist  by  strife, 
And  of  all  creatures  in  the  same  contain'd. 
How  various  is  the  mystery  of  life? 
But  as  all  things  are  subject  unto  change, 
Which  partners  are  of  th'  elementall  pow'rs, 
So  (roll'd  about  with  revolutions  strange) 
"  The  state  of  man  rests  constant  scarce  for  houres. 
"  Loe,  what  doth  fame  more  frequently  report, 
"Then  sudden  risings,  and  more  sudden  falls? 
"  I  thinke  the  world  is  but  a  tenis-court, 
"  Where  fortune  doth  play  states,  tosse  men  for  balls." 

Pho.  And  never  any  age  show'd  more  then  this, 
The  wavering  state  of  soule-ennobled  wights, 
Who  scare  too  high  to  catch  an  aiery  blisse, 
Whil'st  lowest  falls  attend  the  highest  flights. 
That  matchlesse  monarch  who  was  borne  (it  seem'd) 
To  shew  how  high  mortality  attaines. 
Hath  not  from  death  th'  adored  flesh  redeem'd; 
But  paine  hath  made  an  end  of  all  his  paines. 
And   those   brave   bands  which  furnish' d   fame  with 
breath ; 


The  Alexandrceati  Tragedy.  179 

Whil'st  all  the  world  their  valorous  deeds  did  spie, 
Rest  now  (confounded  since  their  soveraignes  death) 
Like  Polyphemus  having  lost  his  eye. 
And  they  are  like  that  teeth-ingendred  brood, 
Which  took  their  life  out  of  a  monster  dead, 
Whilst  each  of  them  would  drinke  the  others  bloud, 
Since  that  great  dragons  death  who  was  their  head. 
Aris.  "  So  change  all  things  which  subject  are  to 
sight : 
"  Disorder  order  breeds,  and  order  it : 
"  Next   light   comes  darknesse,   and   next    darknesse 

light, 
"  This  never-changing  change  transcends  our  wit. 
"  Thus  health  and  sicknesse,  poverty  and  state, 
"  Dishonour,  honour,  life  and  death,  with  doubt, 
"  Still  inter-changing  (what  a  true  deceit !) 
"All  link'd  together,  slide  by  turnes  about; 
"  To  worldly  states  the  heavens  a  height  appoint, 
"  Where,  when  they  once  arrive,  they  must  descend, 
"  And  all  perfections  have  a  fatall  point, 
"  At  which  excellency  it  selfe  must  end. 
"  But  as  all  those  who  walke  on  th'  earth,  are  cross'd 
"  With  alterations,  happ'ning  oft,  and  strange, 
"  The  greatest  states  with  greatest  stormes  are  toss'd. 
"  And  (sought  of  many)  must  make  many  a  change." 
Nor  speake  I  this  by  speculation  mov'd, 
(As  gathering  credit  out  of  ancient  scroules) 
"  No,  I  have  liv'd  at  court,  and  oft  have  prov'd 
"  Nothing  below  more  vex'd,  then  great  mens  soules: 
"  The  tyrant  honours  thralls,  while  as  they  mone, 
"  Their  plaints  to  vulgar  eares  loath  to  impart. 


i8o  Stirling's  Poems. 


i> 


"  They  all  the  weight  of  woes  must  beare  alone, 

"  Where  others  of  their  griefe  lend  friends  apart. 

"  Their  verie  rising  o're  us  to  the  height, 

"  Which  seemes  their  best  is  worst,  for,  being  lords, 

"  They  never  know  the  truth  that  comes  to  light, 

"  When  franke  society  speakes  naked  words. 

"  Whil'st  sadnesse  oft  seemes  majestic,  time  tels 

"  How  deare  they  buy  their  pompe  with  losse  of  rest : 

"  Some  but  three  furies  faine  in  all  the  hels; 

"  There  are  three  thousand  in  one  great  mans  brest." 

Pho.  I  thinke  all  monarchies  are  like  the  moone, 
Which  now  eclips'd,  now  under  cloud,  now  cleare 
Growes  by  degrees,  and  is  (when  full)  undone : 
Yet  ^son-like  renew'd  doth  re-appeare: 
For,  loe  they  first,  but  small  beginne  to  shine, 
And  when  they  once  their  spherick  forme  obtaine. 
Doe  coldly  languish,  and  (till  chang'd)  decline, 
Yet  (falne)  in  other  realmes  doe  rise  againe. 
Assyria  once  made  many  nations  bow, 
Then  next,  all  power  was  in  the  Persians  hand, 
And  Macedonians  last  (grown  monarchs  now) 
Amongst  themselves  divided  cannot  stand. 

Aris.  "  A  secret  fate  (alternately)  all  things 
"  Doth  in  this  circle  circularly  leade : 
"  Still  generation  from  corruption  springs, 
"  That  some  may  live,  of  force  some  must  be  dead ; 
"  Each  element  anothers  strength  devours; 
"  Th'  aire  to  the  fire  succumbes,  the  fire  to  raine, 
"  The  waters  strive  to  drowne  the  earth  with  showers, 
"  Which  it  by  vapours  vomits  out  againe; 
"  Thus  (with  a  gordian  knot  together  bound) 


The  Alexandrian  Tragedy.  i8i 

"  All  things  are  made,  un-made,  and  made  againe : 
"  Whil'st  ruine  founds,  perfection  doth  confound  : 
"  Free  from  some  change  no  state  can  long  remaine ; 
"  But  what  in  th'  earth  more  dangerously  stands 
"  Then  soveraignty  (though  rated  at  such  worth) 
"  Which  like  the  stormy  gods  tumultuous  bands, 
"  Doth  flie  from  th'  east  to  west,  from  south  to  north  %  " 

Pho.  A  long  experience  now  makes  this  not  strange, 
That  mighty  states  whose  reines  one  only  leades, 
Be  oft  distracted,  and  constrain' d  to  change, 
As  too  great  bodies  for  so  little  heads, 
Since  every  common-wealth  (where  all  mens  wits 
Doe  joyne  in  one  to  breed  the  publike  ease) 
Hath  many  fevers  and  pestiferous  fits, 
Which  physick  ol't,  oft  poison  must  appease : 
For  (ah)  the  multitude  more  rash  then  wise, 
A  hydra-headed  beast  which  humor  blindes; 
Doth  passionately  praise,  or  else  despise, 
As  some  prepost'rous  fancies  move  their  mindes ; 
"From  vice  and  vertue  oft  like  danger  flowes; 
"  Whil'st  th'  one  breeds  envie,  and  the  other  hate : 
"  As  jealousie,  or  emulation  growes, 
"  Those  oft  are  crush' d  who  doe  support  a  state." 

Aris.  "  Whil'st   some  their   betters,   others   equals 
scorn  e, 
"  The  popular  authority  decayes, 
"  And  when  it  dies  the  monarchie  is  borne, 
"  Whose  violence  disorders  tury  stales ; 
"  The  raines  of  state  it  Avith  most  ease  doth  swaie, 
"  Of  power  (as  joyn'd  in  one)  the  strongest  kind: 
"  Still  whil'st  it  (humbly  high)  doth  hold  a  way 


i82  Stirling s  Poems. 

"  Twixt  tyrannic  and  too  remisse  a  minde ; 

"  But  though  states  rul'd  by  one,  may  flourish  long, 

"  Whil'st  one  can  well  command,  and  all  obey, 

"  Whil'st    guerdon    goodnesse,    vengeance    followes 

wrong, 
"  That  (vertue  cherish'd)  vice  is  made  decay : 
"Yet  (if  nought  else)  time  doth  great  states  orecome: 
"  And  all  are  bounded  by  some  fatall  houre ; 
"  What  mis-adventures  many  wayes  may  come 
"  To  dissipate  the  most  united  pow'rl 
"  O !  huge  mishaps  a  monarchic  may  marre, 
"  When  prosp'rous  times  doe  (forc'd  by  fates)  expire, 
'•  To  further  which  oft  strangers  must  make  warre, 
"And  mut'nous  subjects  som-time  may  conspire? 
"  As  jealous  feare  (when  brav'd  by  danger)  moves, 
"  All  princes  would  suppresse  aspirers  still : 
"  And  then  a  subjects  course  most  dangerous  proves, 
"  When  either  feare,  or  hope  transports  his  will. 
"  But  though  that  first  to  rise,  last  to  descend, 
"  Great  states  are  guided  by  a  secret  fate : 
"  Yet,  still  the  cause  which  doth  forgoe  their  end, 
"  Springs  from  contempt,  or  is  enforc'd  by  hate ; 
"  The  first  in  kings  the  lack  of  courage  breeds, 
"  Encouraging  ambition  to  rebell ; 
"  I'he  other  doth  attend  tyrannicke  deeds. 
"  That  violence  may  violence  repell." 

P/io.  "  Yet  never  did  so  many  monarchs  fall 
"  By  forraine  battells,  nor  by  civill  broiles, 
"  As  by  themselves  who  (seeming  free)  were  thrall, 
"  Whil'st   smooth-tongu'd    minions    gloried    of    tlieir 

spoils. 


The  A lexandrcean  Tragedy.  183 

'■  Those   who  have   raign'd   by  choice,  by  birth,   or 

worth, 
"  Or  did  encroach  on  crownes  by  chance,  or  crime, 
"  Oft  suffer  vices  to  burst  freely  forth, 
"  Which  vertues  colours  guilded  till  that  time. 
"  Men  clearely  show  what  harbours  in  their  brest, 
"Whilst  (envies  object)  free  from  any  feare: 
"  That  which  is  eminent  is  marked  best, 
"  And  highest  fortunes  hardest  are  to  beare : 
"  Low  states  to  censure  criticks  doe  despise, 
"Whilst  oft  grosse  faults  for  vertues  fame  esteemes, 
"  The  stupid,  patient,  and  the  fearefull  wise, 
"  Will,  constancie,  and  softnesse  goodnesse  seemes. 
"  But  on  the  stage  of  state  when  one  must  stand 
"  A  publike  actor  plac'd  in  all  mens  sight, 
"  And  (swaying  pow'r)  with  an  imperious  hand 
"  Doth  hold  the  ballance  both  of  wrong  and  right, 
"  Then,  he  for  every  action  that  is  his 
"  The  censure  of  a  thousand  tongues  must  have, 
"  Not  onely  damn'd  for  doing  things  amisse; 
"  But  for  not  doing  all  that  all  men  crave; 
"  That  prince  but  undermines  the  soveraigne  seate, 
"  Who  cares  not  who  be  weak  so  he  be  strong, 
"  More  studious  for  himselfe  then  for  the  state, 
"  Or  (if  for  it)  that  he  may  hold  it  long : 
"  For,  where  love  him  for  all  mens  good  ordaines, 
"  He  thinkes  both  them,  and  theirs,   made  him   to 

please, 
"  As  if  a  charge  of  weight,  a  place  of  paines, 
"  Were  but  a  bed  of  rest,  a  heaven  of  ease. 
"  The  worlds  great  weight  which  Atlas  shoulders  beare, 


184  Sthiwg's  Foe?ns, 

"  Is  not  so  weighty  all  to  weigh  one  downe, 
"  As  that  which  on  his  head  a  king  doth  weare : 
"  No  burdens  charge  more  heavie  then  a  crowne. 
"  TJi yEgeaJi  waves  time  may  more  soone  appease, 
"  Then  restlesse  thoughts  whose  course  for  state  pre- 
pares : 
"  Can  they  have  rest  who  toile  for  all  men's  ease? 
"  The  purple  ever  must  be  lin'd  with  cares." 

Aris.  "  Good  kings  are  like  the  fire  which  (flaming 
bright) 
"  Doth  waste  it  selfe  to  serve  anothers  turne : 
"  And  soveraigiity  is  like  fires  glancing  light, 
"  Which  (if  but  view'd)  delights,  if  touch'd,  doth  burne; 
"  I  like  for  warmenesse  to  stand  Vulcan  by, 
"  But  not  to  burne  amid'st  the  Lemnian  flame : 
"  In  cedars  shadowes  men  more  safely  lie, 
"  Then  on  their  tops,  the  roaring  deities  game  : 
"  All  th'  eie-attracting  pompe  and  glorious  showes, 
"  Doe  merit  scorne,  though  they  amazement  breed : 
"  The  world  them  pittie  more  then  envie  owes, 
"  Who  to  seeme  happy  wretched  are  indeed. 
"  What  alterations  strange  attend  a  throne, 
"  As  if  the  spheare  of  fortune  were  a  crowne? 
"  The  great  still  toss'd  like  Sysiphus  his  stone, 
"  When  rais'd  most  high,  rest  ready  to  fall  downe." 
Of  this  what  greater  proofe  can  fame  afford 
Then  mighty  Philips  memorable  fall, 
Who  daunted  had  the  Grecians  by.  the  sword, 
Though  till  that  time  by  strangers  not  made  thrall  % 
He,  he,  then  whilst  he  solemniz'd  with  state. 
His  daughters  marriage,  suddenly  was  lost : 


The  AlexandrcBan  Tragedy.  1 85 

It  seem'd  when  heaven  that  monarchs  daies  would 

date, 
That  Hymens  torch  gave  light  to  Fluids  post. 
When  strong  regards  had  grav'd  within  my  heart. 
The  miseries  that  proper  were  to  court, 
I  thought  them  happie  who  (retir'd  apart) 
Could  never  know  such  things,  but  by  report. 
I  might  have  liv'd  with  Ahwaiider  still. 
To  vertuous  men,  whose  favours  were  not  scarce : 
Yet  rather  choos'd  (though  having  both  at  will) 
To  serve  with  Pallas,  then  command  with  Mars. 
And  whilst  he  toil'd  of  others  Lord  to  be, 
I  of  my  selfe  did  labour  to  be  Lord ; 
Yet  made  as  great  a  conquest  too  as  he ; 
My  pen  shall  be  as  famous  as  his  sword. 

Pho.  And  had  I  willingly  engag'd  my  rest, 
The  way  to  trace  which  to  vaine  glory  tends, 
I  might  have  liv'd  (respected  with  the  best) 
A  speciall  one  of  Alexanders  friends. 
Though  I  of  him  did  never  merit  ought. 
He  entertain'd  my  friendship  till  his  death, 
And  when  he  once  our  cities  o'erthrow  sought, 
At  my  request  did  pacifie  his  wrath. 
Then  once  to  me  a  masse  of  gold  he  sent. 
And  offred  too  a  stately  Asian  towne, 
Which  I  refus'd,  more  pleas'd  with  my  poore  rent, 
Then  he  with  all  the  treasures  of  a  crowne  ; 
I  told,  that  such  a  summe  but  serv'd  to  make 
Him  a  corrupter,  me  corrupted  thought. 
And  foule  for  him  to  give,  for  me  to  take. 
If  us'd,  sham'd  both,  unus'd,  did  serve  for  nought; 


1 86  Stirling's  Poems 


0> 


But  all  those  baites  I  never  daign'd  to  touch, 

Least  I  (who  all  my  life  had  liv'd  so  free) 

Might  be  possess'd  too  much,  possessing  much, 

If  taking  riches,  it  had  taken  me. 

No,  I  would  rather  learne  to  live  with  lesse, 

Then  for  superfluous  furniture  to  strive : 

"  Who  seekes  out  substance  but  to  nurse  excesse, 

"  To  use  it  lives,  not  it  that  he  may  live. 

"  My  fortune  doth  afford  sufficient  meanes, 

"  That  may  preserve  all  natures  pow'rs  in  force; 

"  And  he  who  on  a  golden  scepter  leanes, 

"  Can  not  have  more,  but  may  well  use  it  worse. 

"  Then  since  aboundance,  but  abuses  brings, 

"  Why  seeke  men  more  then  how  to  be  well  eas'd? 

"  And  (ah!)  why  toile  they  for  so  many  things, 

"  Since  with  a  little  nature  can  be  pleas' d?" 

Aris.  Loe!  how  the  heavens,  whose  love  to  man 
exceeds, 
Have  made  his  body  strong,  his  minde  divine, 
And  have  made  th'  earth  to  furnish  all  his  needs, 
Least  curbing  cares  might  make  his  thoughts  decline  : 
So  that  he  hath  a  meanes  to  raise  his  flight 
(If  wing'd  with  vertue)  and  may  (mounting  hie) 
By  time  approach  to  the  celestiall  light, 
And  deifie  himselfe  before  he  die, 
Yet  doth  he  straight  forgoe  that  glorious  way, 
To  toile  for  things  which  th'  earth  not  forc'd  affords, 
The  which  his  wants  first  fram'd  were  to  defray, 
But  by  himselfe  are  of  his  life  made  lords. 
"  O !  how  unworthie  of  the  worth  of  man, 
"  Are  many  labours  which  delight  him  most, 


The  Alexandraan  Tragedy.  187 

"  Since  that  corruption  boldly  first  beganne 
"  To  make  men  nurse  vile  vice  at  vertues  cost." 
And  now  what  hath  great  Alexander  gain'd 
By  endlesse  travell,  and  excessive  cares? 
(Of  whom  (loe)  now,  they  onely  say  he  raign'd) 
But  death  vnto  himselfe,  worse  to  his  heires. 
And  for  the  guiltlesse  blood  which  he  hath  spill'd, 
His  conquests  partners  (loe)  doe  now  beginne 
To  die  even  by  the  swords  by  which  they  kill'd, 
And  all  his  off- spring  expiates  his  sinne. 

Pho.  "  Strange  revolutions  sway  all  worldly  things : 
"  The  wheele  of  fortune  still  must  slipperie  prove, 
"  And  chiefly  then  when  charg'd  it  is  with  kings, 
"  Whose  states  (as  weighty)  quickly  make  it  move." 
Yet  Alexander  I  must  say  was  blest, 
Who  (still  a  victor)  from  distresse  estrang'd 
The  worlds  chiefe  monarch  when  his  state  was  best, 
Did  die  in  time  before  his  fortune  chang'd: 
And  for  his  favour  which  I  oft  did  try, 
Whom  earnestly  he  labour'd  to  advance; 
It  grieves  me  that  himselfe  so  soone  did  die, 
And  that  his  off-spring  hath  so  hard  a  chance. 
His  successors  have  set  all  Greece  on  fire. 
Of  which  I  feare  to  perish  by  some  sparke; 
For,  Polypercon  doth  my  death  conspire, 
"  And  who  can  scape  when  made  a  great  mans  marke?" 
Yet  for  my  countries  cause  I'le  give  my  blood, 
"  Whilst  safely  prais'd  all  follow  vertue  can, 
"  But  (when  by  danger  bragg'd)  then,  to  doe  good, 
"  O!  that  is  worthie  of  a  worthie  man." 
Nor  doe  I  tender  so  this  pufte  of  breath. 


1 88  Stirli/iz's  Poems 


iy 


But  I  can  yeeld  that  nature  it  expell : 

"  A  minde  that  is  resolv'd  triumphes  o're  death, 

"  He  hath  Hv'd  long  enough  who  hath  Hv'd  well." 

[^Exeinit. 


ACT   V.       SCENE    II. 

Cassander,  Lysiinachus,  Fiolomie,  Seleucus. 

Cass.  No  doubt  (great  heroes)  Avhom  the  heavens 
have  lov'd, 
(What  ever  count'nance  duty  doth  pretend) 
Your  minds  are  glad,  since  those  (by  me  remov'd) 
Who  might  have  made  you  end,  have  made  an  end. 
Loath  not  the  meanes  if  pleas'd  with  the  effect, 
For  though  by  this  I  have  a  realme  obtain'd, 
It  yeelds  you  more,  whose  course  none  can  suspect : 
I  onely  guilty  am,  ye  all  have  gain'd. 
Yet  to  pursue  my  life  they  first  began, 
For  my  defence  this  refuge  last  I  prov'd : 
"What  then  himselfe  can  be  more  neere  to  man? 
"  When  bragg'd  by  danger  who  would  not  be  mov'd?" 
And  if  Olyvipias  had  not  di'd  in  time 
By  offring  up  her  blood  to  worke  my  peace, 
Then  mine  had  beene  the  harme,  and  hers  the  crime, 
I  but  prevented  her  a  little  space;. 
And  if  her  off-spring  had  surviv'd  her  death, 
Whose  rising  could  not  but  procure  our  fall, 
Yee,  now  who  nought  but  soveraignty  doe  breath, 
Had  breath'd  obedience,  or  not  breath'd  at  all. 

Lys.  You  from  a  dangerous  yaoke  have  us  releev'd, 


The  Alexandrceati  Tragedy.  189 

Which  (I  suspect)  we  should  have  tri'd  too  soone : 

"  And  why  then  should  we  labour  to  seeme  griev'd 

"At  that  thing  done,  which  we  wish  not  undone]" 

No,  no,  since  all  for  soveraignty  do  strive, 

And  have  once  tasted  what  it  is  to  raigne, 

Each  one  of  vs  would  rather  die,  then  live 

To  beare  a  subjects  servile  yoke  againe. 

And  though  perchance  with  Alexanders  sonne ; 

(If  heire  to  him  in  worth,  as  of  his  state) 

We  might  have  most  respected  places  wonne. 

As  speciall  pillars  of  the  princes  seate. 

"  Though  greater  then  the  rest,  as  of  before, 

"  It  would  have  vex'd  us,  lesse  then  one  to  fall ; 

"  The  fall  from  first  to  second  grieves  one  more, 

"  Then  from  the  second  to  the  last  of  all;" 

Our  envi'd  glory  had  destruction  brought, 

And  would  have  made  us  odious  to  remaine : 

"  It  dangerous  is  for  subiects  to  be  thought 

"  Such  as  desire,  or  yet  deserve  to  raigne." 

When  any  tempest  threat'ned  had  his  throne. 

He  would  have  sought  for  surety  at  our  cost : 

"  When  lealousie  (mindes  worme)  hath  seaz'd  on  one, 

"  The  greatest  vertues  are  suspected  most. 

"  Yea,  though  we  could  to  quite  our  state  consent, 

"  Us  from  suspition  nought  but  death  could  purge : 

"  Still  greatnesse  must  turmoile,  or  then  torment, 

"  If  borne  a  burthen,  if  lay'd  downe  a  scourge." 

Ptol.  But  when  we  have  within  our  bosome  weigh' d 
The  ruine  of  all  Alexanders  race. 
Whom  without  blushing  we  might  have  obey'd, 
By  right  succeeding  in  our  soveraignes  place. 


1 90  Stirling's  Poems. 

How  can  our  soules  but  highly  be  asham'd, 

If  one  below  them  farre  embold'ned  thus, 

Doth  seeke  by  wrong  that  which  by  right  they  claim'd, 

And  by  their  ©'rethrow  would  insult  o're  usi 

Nor  neede  I  more  as  in  suspence  remaine, 

To  maske  my  meaning  with  ambiguous  wordes, 

No,  no,  our  words  may  as  his  deeds  be  plaine, 

Which  fame  (and  that  not  whis'pring)  now  records : 

Ye  heare  how  that  Antigorms  of  late, 

(Whose  thoughts  (wing'd  with  good  succes)  soare  too 

high) 
Doth  strive  above  the  rest  to  raise  his  state, 
And  by  all  meanes  doth  fortune  frankely  ply. 
Since  to  his  hands  Enmenes  was  betrai'd, 
Loe  quite  transported  by  prjepost'rous  pride. 
(As  if  in  nought  adebted  to  our  ayde) 
To  yeeld  our  due  he  cannot  now  abide. 

Lys.  "  Thus  time  the  truth  of  all  things  doth  pro- 
clamel 
"  Man  is  a  crafty  creature,  hard  to  know, 
"  Who  can  a  face  for  every  fortune  frame : 
"  No  trust  in  mortalls,  no ;  nor  faith  below, 
"  As  our  particulars  doe  sometime  move, 
"  We,  what  we  wish  for  most,  seeme  to  mislike, 
"  And  oft  of  others  doe  the  course  disprove, 
"  Whil'st  we  want  only  meanes  to  doe  the  like." 
Then  whil'st  Perdiccas  did  attempt  before 
To  make  the  rest  who  were  his  equalls  thrall, 
Who,  then  Antigonus  detested  more 
The  foolish  pride  of  one  that  would  have  all  \ 
But  since  Perdiccas  and  his  faction  fell, 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  \  g  i 

Whom  he  (as  traitours  to  the  state)  pursu'd, 
He,  in  his  place  succeeding  to  rebell, 
Hath  what  he  seem'd  to  end,  againe  renew'd  ; 
And  yet  I  many  times  have  mus'd  of  this, 
How  from  the  world  he  did  Eumenes  send. 

Sel.  How?  but  by  treason  as  his  custome  is, 
False  at  the  first,  and  cruell  in  the  end. 

Lys.  I  know,  that  after  many  doubtfull  fights, 
He  hath  o'rethrowne  Eumenes  at  the  last: 
But  by  what  stratagems,  or  treach'rous  slights, 
I  would  be  glad  to  heare  how  all  hath  past. 

Sel.  Antigomcs  was  at  the  first  afrai'd, 
To  match  Eumenes  by  plaine  force  in  fight, 
And  therefore  all  that  feare  aftords  assai'd. 
For  valour  franke,  still  using  warie  slight. 
Amongst  Eimienes  troupes  (their  mindes  to  prove) 
He  scatt'red  letters  with  allurements  stor'd, 
By  promis'd  treasures,  and  protested  love. 
Some  to  corrupt  who  might  betray  their  lord ; 
But  he  (still  wise)  his  troupes  in  time  advis'd 
To  cleare  their  vertue  by  their  enemies  vice, 
And  gave  them  thankes,  who  would  not  be  entis'd 
To  sell  their  faith  at  such  a  bloodie  price; 
Then  said,  that  he  himselfe  those  scroules  procur'd. 
That  when  they  spy'd  such  practices  againe, 
They  still  might  thinke  them  (by  this  meanes  allur'd) 
Their  captaines  triall,  not  their  enemies  traine. 
Thus  by  the  course  which  should  have  him  entrap'd, 
His  adversarie  did  deluded  stay : 
Whil'st  both  he  from  that  present  danger  scap'd. 
And  to  prevent  the  like,  prepar'd  a  way. 


192  Stirling's  Poems. 

Then  when  he  saw  this  poUcy  had  fail'd, 

And  that  there  had  some  doubtful!  conflicts  past, 

Antigonus  who  had  at  one  prevail'd 

(x\s  having  had  some  vantage  at  the  last) 

Did  with  Eiuneites  straight  procure  to  speake, 

And  (as  t'  one  vanquish'd)  ofFred  him  good-will, 

But  he  (whose  minde  could  not  be  brought  to  breake) 

Would  onely  talke  as  to  his  equall  still : 

For,  when  a  band  (betweene  them  made)  did  beare, 

He  to  Antigonus  should  helpe  impart, 

That  forme  reform'd  he  first  of  all  would  sweare, 

With  Alexanders  off-spring  to  take  part. 

Thus  where  they  his  submission  did  attend, 

Imperiously  conditions  he  impos'd : 

So  that  thereafter  to  procure  his  end, 

The  other  by  all  meanes  his  minde  dispos'd; 

And  shortly  of  his  bands  a  vaine  debate, 

For  his  confusion  fit  occasion  brought; 

"  Still  as  by  concord  small  things  doe  grow  great, 

"  By  discord  great  things  are  reduc'd  to  nought;" 

While  as  Eumcnes  fortunately  liv'd, 

The  Agiraspidcs  to  him  gave  place, 

Till  that  for  state  two  of  their  captaines  striv'd, 

And  his  authoritie  would  not  embrace. 

Such  was  that  spite  of  theirs  to  have  him  spoil'd, 

That  though  of  valour  he  rare  wonders  prov'd, 

And  oft  by  force  Antigonus  had  foil'd, 

Yet  from  their  mind  it  could  not  be  remov'd, 

For  (by  their  meanes  allur'd)  the  other  bands, 

To  get  some  baggage  whicli  they  lost  againe. 

Did  take  their  captaine,  with  outragious  hands, 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  t  6 1 

And,  then  the  greatest,  greater  for  a  space, 

Did  manage  all  the  JMacedonian  state : 

But  I  his  Sonne  who  (as  some  would  suppose) 

Might  keep  with  ease,  that  which  he  got  with  paine, 

Can  by  no  meanes  my  rest-lesse  thoughts  repose. 

Such  raging  tyrants  o're  my  fancies  raigne. 

Lys.  And  yet  I  thinke  you  have  an  easie  part, 
To  whom  his  state  your  father  did  resigne, 
For,  it  may  make  you  smile,  which  made  him  smart : 
"  Some  presse  the  grape,  and  others  drinke  the  wine." 

Cass.  He  not  beleeve  that  ever  any  ill 
Was  bred  for  me  within  my  fathers  brest, 
Since  children  must  suppose  their  parents  will 
(Though  seeming  bad)  still  purpos'd  for  the  best. 
And  yet  my  fathers  ghost  must  pardon  me. 
Though  when  from  us  he  minded  to  remove, 
I  thinke  the  tenor  of  his  last  decree 
Show'd  lack  of  judgement,  or  at  least  of  love: 
For,  what  base  course  had  ever  beene  begun, 
To  make  me  seeme  not  worthy  of  his  place, 
That  he  preferr'd  a  stranger  to  his  sonne, 
As  bent  to  cloud  the  glory  of  his  race? 
Thus  since  in  such  a  sort  he  did  neglect, 
The  Sonne  who  should  his  name  from  death  exempt, 
(As  dis-regarded  for  some  great  defect) 
All  other  men  may  have  me  in  contempt. 
But  ere  his  age  attain'd  the  fatall  date, 
He  saw  my  brows  with  lawrell  boughs  array'd, 
And  spy'd  my  skill  in  warre,  and  wit  in  state. 
Which  grew  as  much  as  his  had  then  decay'd. 
Nor  can  my  courage  so  be  brought  to  bow, 

VOL.    II.  M 


1 62  Stirling's  Poems. 


i> 


But  Polypercon  shall  by  proofe  finde  soone, 

That  in  my  fathers  will,  I  will  allow, 

Not  what  he  did,  but  what  he  should  have  done; 

And  since  by  him  high  dignities  were  wonne, 

I  minde  to  prosecute  what  he  began ; 

"  For  (though  I  would)  so  great  a  fathers  sonne 

"  Can  not  securely  live  a  private  man." 

Loe,  Polypercoji  by  our  povv'r  repell'd 

From  Alacedonie  hath  rety'rd  dismay' d, 

And  for  the  feare  of  us  hath  beene  compell'd 

To  rest  beholding  for  anothers  aid. 

Let  him  not  think  that  shadows  (though  of  kings) 

Can  match  my  pow'r  with  these  his  borrow'd  bands ; 

A  doubtfuU  flight  all  fram'd  with  others  wings 

Will  never  beare  him  from  Cassanders  hands; 

And  though  Olympias  count'nanc'd  once  his  cause, 

As  from  Epints  come  to  ruine  me : 

Now  of  her  owne  misfortune  she  must  pause, 

Since  brought  of  late  unto  a  low  degree. 

Lys.  And  yet  Olympias  once  did  prosper  well, 
When  first  she  touch'd  the  Macdonian  bounds, 
Whil'st  Polypercon  proudly  did  repell 
All  those  who  durst  resist  with  words,  or  wounds. 
Though  Philip  and  Euridice  his  queene, 
(To  give  them  battell  bent)  in  time  arriv'd, 
The  Macedonians  when  they  had  her  scene, 
As  their  owne  queene  to  do  her  honour  striv'd. 
And  haplesse  Philip  whil'st  constrain'd  to  yeeld. 
There,  for  a  kings  did  take  a  captives  state : 
And  with  his  mate  (though  flying  from  the  field) 
Was  follow'd  by  their  force,  and  by  her  fate. 


The  Alexandrczan  Tragedy.  i6 


J 


Then  did  her  husband  and  her  selfe  give  place, 
Whose  brows  of  late  a  diademe  had  borne : 
But  then  throwne  dovvne  in  depths  of  black  disgrace, 
Were  made  of  pride  the  prey,  the  butt  of  scorne. 

Cass.  Those  were  the  means  which  did  them  first 
entrap, 
But  have  you  heard  how  after  they  were  thrall, 
To  plague  the  world  with  horrour,  and  mishap, 
The  proud  Olynipias  tyrraniz'd  o'er  all'l 

Lys.  Some  doubtful!  rumors  did  frequent  each  eare, 
Such  as  rash  fame  confus'dly  durst  unfold  : 
But  yet  by  favour  hid,  or  else  for  feare. 
The  truth  of  all  (it  may  be)  was  not  told. 

Cass.  When  thus  the  tygresse  happ'ned  to  surprise 
Those  wretched  souls  (as  ravish'd  in  a  dreame) 
Her  heart  at  first  seem'd  scarce  to  trust  her  eves, 
She  surfetted  her  sight  so  with  their  shame; 
But  when  she  saw  (by  reason  of  her  pow'r) 
That  she  might  safely  let  her  rage  burst  out : 
She  them  about  caus'd  build  a  lightlesse  tower, 
Press'd   by  whose   walls,    they   scarce    could    turne 

about ; 
And  in  that  dungeon  (as  entomb'd)  they  stood 
With  high  disgrace  t'  appease  more  high  disdaines, 
Farre  from  all  comfort,  whil'st  a  little  food 
Their  life  prolong'd,  but  to  prolong  their  paines. 
"  But  for  misfortune  pity  last  doth  pleade, 
"  As  envy  doth  prosperity  oppose;" 
The  Macedonians  (then  indifferent  made) 
On  murmur'd  rumours  doubtfully  did  glose. 
The  peoples  grudge  Olympias  did  perceive, 


164  Stiriitig's  Poems. 

And  of  just  fury  fearing  the  effect, 

She  straight  resolv'd  Hfes  remnant  to  bereave, 

From  weakened  pow'rs  which  did  no  lesse  expect : 

And  when  some  Thraciafis  basely  bent  for  bloud 

(As  she  had  charg'd)  with  mercenary  spight, 

Her  murd'red  Philip,  and  his  queene  imbru'd 

With  these  red  streames  that  drown'd  her  Hfes  deHght: 

She  sent  to  her  whose  soule  in  griefe  did  sinke, 

(As  messengers  of  death  to  bragge  her  brest) 

A  sword,  a  cord,  and  an  empoyson'd  drink, 

A  tyrants  presents,  yet  a  wretches  best. 

Those  scene,  the  queene   unmov'd  this  speech  did 

make, 
(As  one  who  had  imbrac'd  some  great  rehefe) 
Fit  gifts  for  her  to  give,  for  me  to  take. 
Since  she  exceeds  in  hate,  and  I  in  griefe. 
And  tell  the  tyrant  that  I  gladly  dye. 
That  once  the  angry  gods  to  venge  my  death, 
May  thunder  forth  that  judgement,  which  I  spie 
With  bloud  must  choak  that  bloudy  womans  breath. 
Last,  looking  on  her  lord  who  there  lay  slaine, 
Once  partner  of  his  joy,  then,  of  his  woe, 
Whil'st  that  his  roses  did  her  lillies  staine, 
She  kiss'd  his  wounds,  as  taking  leave  to  goe ; 
Lest  time  her  resolution  had  betray'd, 
Her  snowie  necke  (not  us'd  with  such  a  chaine) 
Her  girdle  grasp'd;  then  dy'd  no  way  dismai'd  ; 
And  if  she  sigh'd,  she  sigh'd  but  for  disdaine. 

Lys.  This  barbarous  act  my  breast  with  griefe  doth 
sting; 
Can  spight  so  much  transport  the  meekest  kinde? 


The  AkxaTidrcEan  Tragedy.  165 

"  And  yet  on  th'  earth  there's  no  more  cruell  thing 
"  Then  maHce  raging  in  a  wonians  minde!" 

Cass.  But  yet  this  sacrifice  could  not  asswage 
The  boyUng  thoughts  of  her  unbounded  will : 
For,  ent'ring  thus  she  rioted  in  rage, 
(As  dogges  that  once  get  bloud,  would  alwayes  kill) 
Each  light  occasion  kindling  still  her  wrath, 
The  soveraignty  she  shamefully  abus'd; 
And  put  my  brother  Nicanor  to  death, 
Though  for  no  crime  condemn'd,  no,  not  accus'd. 
To  some  (when  dead)  an  hate  by  her  was  borne, 
Whose  cruelty  no  floud  of  bloud  confin'd  : 
(Of  Tolas  the  tombe  prophanely  torne) 
She  (robbing  th'  earth)  with  ashes  stain'd  the  winde: 
To  be  Cassanders  friend  was  such  a  crime, 
As  none  could  scape  who  ever  favour'd  me ; 
Thus  huge  disorders  did  abound  a  time : 
"  Where  laws  not  valued  are,  all  things  are  free : 
When  having  heard  of  this  outragious  pride, 
Which  made  my  native  soyle  contemn'd  to  be, 
I  those  indignities  could  not  abide, 
Whose  shame  and  danger  did  ayme  most  at  me. 
So  that  at  last  (mov'd  by  my  countries  care) 
(As  much  as  by  particular  respects) 
I  with  great  speed  an  army  did  prepare 
To  punish,  or  prevent  the  like  effects. 
But  when  I  was  to  Macedonie  come, 
To  fortifie  a  towne  she  did  resigne. 
Which  I  enclos'd,  and  quickly  did  o'recome, 
Whil'st  famine  forc'd  the  fortresse  to  resigne. 
Then  to  necessity  weake  pride  gave  place, 


1 66  Stirling's  Poems. 

Her  lofty  courage  was  constrain'd  to  bow : 
So  that  she  rests  depending  on  our  grace, 
To  be  dispos'd,  as  it  shall  please  us  now. 

Lys.  This  chance  the  world  to  wonder  may  invite ; 
Loe,  there  a  queene  who  had  (though  now  distress'd) 
The  rarest  fortune,  and  the  greatest  sprite 
That  ever  any  of  her  sex  possess'd. 
The  widow'd  empresse  who  first  bragg'd  the  Indes, 
Or  proud  Thomiris  though  both  prais'd  have  beene, 
Or  th'  Amazons  all  borne  with  martiall  mindes, 
Have  never  beene  more  stout  then  was  this  queene ; 
Her  lifes  first  progresse  did  but  prove  too  sweet, 
Whom  once  the  world  with  treasures  striv'd  to  blesse : 
But  now  sad  soule  (foil'd  under  fortunes  feet) 
Her  misery  no  creature  can  expresse. 

Cass.  Those  were  but  fortunes  gifts  which  made  her 
great, 
Whil'st  treacherous  shows  by  shallow  wits  were  prais'd, 
Her  imperfections  did  but  staine  the  state, 
Where  her  not  hers,  but  others  merits  rais'd: 
When  first  that  dame  with  famous  Philip  match'd, 
Her  cunning  carriage  was  not  free  from  blame : 
But  though  she  then  with  Argos  eyes  was  watch'd, 
(As  was  suppos'd)  soone  forfeited  her  fame; 
At  least  (shame-fear'd)  he  did  her  first  disdaine, 
"  And  of  that  sexe  the  precious  fame  is  such, 
"  Their  tender  honour  any  breath  may  staine, 
"  If  tainted,  foule;  if  but  suspect'd,  too  much;" 
Yet  this  at  last  did  his  destruction  breed, 
For  which  her  spightfull  thoughts  had  labour  d  long: 
She  by  Pausanias  privy  to  his  deed, 


The  Alexojtdrcean  Tragedy.  167 

Had  spurr'd  him  to  performe  th'  intended  wrong; 

And  by  such  raeanes  long  sought,  that  to  her  will, 

Her  husbands  murder  might  enlarge  the  raynes, 

Whil'st  back'd  by  power  she  boldly  did  the  ill. 

Of  which,  too  late,  the  troubled  realme  complaines. 

Though  loath'd  of  all  (long  suffred  for  her  sonne) 

She  play'd  the  tyrant  safely  as  she  pleas'd : 

But  by  the  course  that  I  have  now  begun, 

I  hope  those  whom  she  plagu'd,  shall  be  appeas'd. 

Lys.  Yet  of  Olympias  (though  cast  downe  by  you) 
The  sight  her  sonne  and  husband  will  revive. 
And  so  may  make  the  Macedonians  now, 
For  her  reliefe  strange  courses  to  contrive. 
"  Of  those  whose  greatnesse  doth  regard  extort, 
"  The  miseries  entender  every  minde, 
"  And  still  the  affections  of  the  vulgar  sort, 
"  Are  (head-long  led)  too  cruell,  or  too  kinde." 

Cass.  O !  but  I  can  precipitate  her  fall. 
Even  by  the  meanes  which  might  support  her  most : 
For,  pity  shall  barre  pity,  whil'st  they  all 
Waile  for  their  friends,  who  through  her  pride  were 
lost. 

Lys.  "  As  those  to  whom  all  other  things  are  free, 
"  Must  have  their  life  and  raigne  both  of  one  date. 
"  So  private  men  who  passe  their  owne  degree, 
"  Can  hardly  turne  to  take  their  former  state. 
"Your  fortune  thus  is  trusted  to  the  fates; 
"  None  can  retyre  who  enters  in  such  things : 
"  All  those  who  dare  attempt  against  great  states, 
"  Must  dye  as  traitors,  or  else  live  as  kings ; 
"  And  though  you  would  but  some  disorders  stay. 


1 68  Stirlin^^s  Poems. 


<b 


"  You  deale  with  those  who  (borne  not  to  be  thrall) 

"  As  torrents  beare  away  what  stops  their  way, 

"  And  must  of  force  (if  not  undone)  do  all. 

"  Such  (though  set  free)  will  storme  when  they  are  gone, 

"  Who  scorne  to  take  the  thing,  that  they  should  give ; 

"  All  those  must  dye  who  dare  but  touch  a  throne : 

"  Who  may  endanger  kings,  they  must  not  live." 

Cass.  Since  in  this  course  I  onely  once  can  erre, 
I  shall  be  sure  ere  she  herselfe  with-draw. 

Lys.  And  yet  what  surety  can  you  have  of  her, 
"  Can  laws  binde  them  who  are  above  the  law? 
"  Who  can  a  concord  make  betwixt  the  two, 
"  Whereas  the  one  must  hate,  the  other  fearef 

Cass.  O,  but  I  minde  to  use  the  matter  so 
That  both  from  hence  shall  further  strife  forbeare. 

Lys.  What  can  her  freedome,  and  your  peace  pro- 
cure 1 

Cass.  Death  both  can  make  her  free,  and  me  secure. 

Lys.  And  would  you  do  such  ill  to  shed  her  bloud? 

Cass.  Yea,  ill  to  others,  so  it  do  me  good. 

Lys.  The  Macedonians  will  abhorre  this  wrong. 

Cass.  And  yet  obey  me  if  I  be  most  strong. 

Lys.  But  who  shall  have  the  realme  amidst  those 
broils? 

Cass.  "Who  ever  winnes  the  field,  doth  owe  the 
spoils. 

Lys.  So  to  possesse  the  realme  you  have  no  right. 

Cass.  But  I  have  more,  so  long  as  I  have  might. 

Lys.  This  state  doth  to  it  selfe  an  heire  aftbrd. 

Cass.  "  All  kingdomes  rights  are  pleaded  by  the 
sword." 


The  AlexaJidraan  Tragedy.  169 

Lys.  The  people  all  will  grudge  against  your  state. 

Cass.  But  dare  not  stirre,  whil'st  feare  exceeds  their 
hate. 

Lys.  And  in  their  hearts  they  will  detest  you  too. 

Cass.  Think  what  they  will,  who  have  no  pow'r  to 
doe. 

Lys.  What  though  Olympias  in  a  little  space 
May  lose  her  pow'r,  together  with  her  breath] 
Yet  there  remaines  another  of  her  race, 
Who  is  by  nature  bound  to  venge  her  death. 

Cass.  "  The  raging  streames  of  a  tempestuous  flood, 
"  Which  drowns  the  old,  not  yeelds  the  yong  reliefel 
"  What  foole  who  of  his  foes  victorious  stood, 
"Would  spoyle  an  army,  and  yet  spare  the  chiefe:" 
No,  since  I  must  my  selfe  with  murder  staine, 
lie  by  the  roots  raze  all  the  royall  race, 
So  that  no  pow'r  shall  spring  from  thence  againe, 
That  may  my  selfe,  or  yet  my  plants  displace. 
The  strength  hath  left  great  Alexanders  arme. 
Whose  mothers  fatall  threed  is  now  neere  spunne ; 
And  I  have  meanes  to  keep  my  selfe  from  harme, 
Both  of  Roxane,  and  her  tender  sonne. 
But  since  this  course  may  much  our  states  advance, 
By  which  a  ground  for  great  attempts  is  layd : 
I  must  entreat  you  now  (what  ever  chance) 
To  lend  us  your  applause,  though  not  your  ayd. 

Lys.  rie  be  your  friend,  yet  wish  you  would  refraine, 
From  doing  this ;  but,  ere  you  be  undone, 
Since  by  your  guiltnesse  I  thus  may  gaine, 
lie  sufter  that  which  I  would  not  have  done. 

\  Exeunt. 


lyo  Stirling's  Poems. 

Olynipias  alone. 

Can  I  be  she  whom  all  the  world  admir'd, 

As  the  most  happie  queene  that  raign'd  below, 

Whom  all  the  planets  have  to  plague  conspir'd, 

Of  fickle  fortunes  course  the  pow'r  to  show? 

No,  no,  not  I,  for  what  could  me  controuU, 

Or  force  me  thus  t'  attend  anothers  will, 

Since  I  despise  this  prison  of  my  soule, 

Where  it  disdaines  t'  abide  in  bondage  still? 

Ah!  whil'st  vaine  pompe  transported  fancies  fed, 

The  jealous  gods  my  state  to  grudge  did  tempt, 

My  state  which  envy  once,  and  reverence  bred. 

Though  now  it  breed  but  pity,  and  contempt : 

Olympias  once  high  as  Olympus  stood. 

The  wife  of  Philip,  Alexatiders  mother, 

Who  match'd  Alcides,  and  Achilles  bloud, 

To  breed  a  man  more  worth  then  both  together. 

Am  I  the  woman  whose  majesticke  state 

Seem'd  once  so  happy  to  deceiv'd  conceits? 

I,  I  am  she,  and  never  yet  more  great 

Then  at  this  present,  even  in  spight  of  fates. 

A  double  bondage  long  did  burden  me, 

I  to  my  selfe,  my  selfe  to  fortune  thrall : 

But  now  captivity  hath  set  me  free, 

Who  could  not  rise  till  first  I  had  a  fall: 

"  A  sprit  whil'st  it  prosperity  benummes, 

"  Scarce  like  the  selfe  can  to  the  world  appeare : 

"  But  then  when  vertue  every  crosse  o'recomes, 

"  True  greatnesse  shines  most  bright  in  glories  spheare. 

"  Our  treasure  now  (1  see)  consists  no  more 


The  AlexandrcBon  Tragedy.  1 7  i 

''  Without  ourselves  in  th'  eye-betraying  shows, 

"  But  in  the  breasts  inestimable  store, 

'•  Which  neither  time  entombes,  nor  pow'r  o'rethrows." 

0  never  were  my  thoughts  enlarg'd  till  now 

To  mark  my  selfe,  and  quintessence  my  minde : 

For,  long  (a  prey  to  pride)  I  know  not  how, 

A  mist  of  fancies  made  my  judgement  blinde. 

As  those  who  dreame  sweet  dreames,  whil'st  wak'st  at 

last, 
Do  finde  their  errour  when  their  eyes  finde  light : 
Free  from  the  slumb'ring  of  my  fortune  past, 

1  now  arise  to  judge  of  all  things  right. 

"  That  cloud  of  pomp,  whose  smoak  me  shadow'd  once, 

"  Loe,  now  remov'd,  unmasks  my  life  too  late : 

"  And  now  I  see,  that  scepters,  crownes,  and  thrones, 

"Are  burd'nous  badges  of  a  dangerous  state." 

O  happie  woman,  of  true  pleasure  sure, 

Who  in  the  countrey  lead'st  a  guiltlesse  life! 

From  fortunes  reach  retyr'd,  obscure,  secure, 

Though  not  a  queene,  yet  a  contented  wife. 

Thy  mate  more  deare  to  thee  then  is  the  light, 

(Though  low  in  state)  loves  in  a  high  degree. 

And  with  his  presence  still  to  blesse  thy  sight. 

Doth  scorne  great  courts  whil'st  he  lives  courting  thee. 

And  as  thou  wound'st  him  not  with  hid  disgrace, 

He  with  no  jealous  thought  doth  rack  thy  brest: 

Thus  both  lye  downe  to  rest,  and  rise  in  peace, 

Then  (if  they  strive)  they  strive  who  should  love  best ; 

What  though  thou  have  not  as  the  mighty  ones 

Thy  neck  surcharg'd  with  chains  (ah  chains  indeed!) 

Nor  eares  weigh'd  down  with  orientall  stones, 


1 7  2  Stirling' s  Poems. 

Nor  robes,  whose  worth  may  admiration  breed; 
So  want' St  thou  that  which  we  have  ever  had, 
Sad  mis-contentments,  jealousie,  and  spite; 
And  though  thy  back  be  not  with  purple  clad, 
Thy  thoughts  are  deck't  with  innocencies  white. 
As  birds  (whose  cage  of  gold  the  sight  deceives) 
Do  seeme  to  sing,  whil'st  they  but  waile  their  state : 
So,  with  the  mighty  match'd,  (made  glorious  slaves) 
We  happy  seeme,  whil'st  we  but  curse  our  fate. 
That  blesse  whose  shew  in  us  vaine  eyes  doth  please, 
Makes  thee  indeed  with  pleasures  spend  thy  breath, 
Who  liv'st  while  yong  in  mirth,  whil'st  ag'd  in  ease, 
And  know'st  not  what  it  is  to  dye  till  death; 
Ah!  since  I  liv'd,  I  alwayes  did  but  dye, 
When  seeming  happy,  then  most  wretched  still; 
Whil'st  dazeling  with  vaine  pompe  each  vulgar  eye, 
What  strange  mishaps  did  me  with  anguish  fill? 
The  fates  with  fortune  from  my  birth  conspir'd 
To  make  my  life,  a  patterne  of  their  might : 
For  both  my  parents  from  the  world  retir'd, 
When  I  had  scarcely  look'd  upon  the  light : 
The  world  may  judge  how  I  was  justly  griev'd, 
Whil'st  angry  Philip  sought  for  my  disgrace, 
(A  thing  which  once  I  scarce  could  have  beleev'd) 
And  unto  Cleopatra  gave  my  place. 
Then  though  I  long  (as  desp'rate  of  reliefe) 
For  his  offence  afflicted  had  my  minde, 
Yet  did  his  sudden  death  augment  my  griefe : 
He  was  my  husband,  though  he  was  unkinde ; 
And  when  my  sonnes  rare  deeds  which  fame  doth 
sound, 


The  AlexandrcBan  Tragedy.  173 

The  world  with  wonder,  ravish'd  me  with  joy, 

Those  (as  himselfe)  who  would  all  his  confound. 

To  compasse  me,  did  spite  and  power  imploy : 

Yet  stood  my  courage  when  my  fortune  fell, 

And  still  I  toil'd  to  persecute  his  foes, 

That  some  might  fall  downe  who  too  much  did  swell, 

Their  bloud  in  marble  registring  my  woes. 

That  which  I  purpos'd,  long  so  prosp'red  too, 

That  some  of  them  did  try  (by  torments  strange) 

All  what  a  woman's  just  disdaine  could  do, 

Whil'st  spurr'd  by  jealousie,  spite,  and  revenge: 

But  this  arch-traitour,  ruler  of  the  rest, 

Who  thirsts  to  drinke  the  bloud  of  all  our  race. 

Even  then,  with  us  when  all  succeeded  best, 

Did  compasse  me  with  ruine  and  disgrace. 

Such  was  the  tenor  of  my  fortune  past, 

Whose  least  mishap  had  made  another  burst : 

First,  orphan'd,  widow'd,  and  unchilded  last, 

A  daughter,  wife,  and  mother  all  accurst. 

Heavens  plague  Cassander,  let  that  base  wretch  try 

That  love  his  judgement  but  a  while  deferres; 

And  let  his  wife  bewaile  as  well  as  I, 

I  murdred  for  my  sonne,  and  she  by  hers. 

Even  as  th'  incestuous  Thebans  monstrous  brood. 

So  may  thy  sonnes  contend  with  mutuall  wounds, 

And  never  let  thy  house  be  free  from  bloud, 

Till  banish'd  quite  from  this  usurped  bounds; 

Thus,  notwithstanding  of  my  wonted  pow'r, 

To  me  (save  wishes)  nothing  doth  remaine : 

But  though  condemn' d  to  dye,  yet  at  this  houre 

Should  I  begin  to  curse,  and  to  complaine 


174  Stirling's  Poems. 

No,  no,  that  custome  best  becomes  poore  soules, 

Whose  resolution  cannot  cHmbe  more  high ; 

But  I  whose  courage  that  base  course  controuls, 

Must  triumph  still  what  ever  state  I  try. 

"  Death  is  the  port  where  all  may  refuge  finde. 

"  The  end  of  labour,  entry  unto  rest; 

"  Death  hath  the  bounds  of  misery  confin'd, 

"  Whose  sanctuary  shrowds  affliction  best. 

"  To  suffer  (oft)  with  a  couragious  heart, 

"  It   doth    deserve    more    praise    then    deeds    most 

knowne : 
"  For,  in  our  actions  fortune  hath  some  part, 
"  But  in  our  suffrings,  all  things  are  our  owne :" 
Loe,  now  I  loath  the  world,  and  wordly  things. 
Of  which  I  both  have  prov'd  the  best  and  worst : 
The  apprehended  death  great  comfort  brings. 
And  hath  no  crosse,  but  that  it  should  be  forc'd. 
O  heare  me  now  (deare  sonne)  if  that  thy  ghost 
May  leave  th'  Elysian  fields  to  look  on  me : 
Of  all  things  else  this  doth  content  me  most, 
That  from  this  time  I  may  remaine  with  thee. 
And  blush  not  now  to  see  thy  mothers  end. 
My  death  in  glory  with  thy  life  shall  strive : 
It  (as  a  captive)  fortune  shall  attend, 
That  (as  thy  fellow)  foUow'd  thee  alive.  \_Exii. 

Chorus. 

Ah,  ah !  though  man  the  image  of  great  love. 
And,  th'  onely  creature  that  gives  reason  place, 
With  reverence  due  unto  the  powers  above. 


The  Akxafidrcean  T)-agedy.  1 7  5 

His  heavenly  progeny  should  seeke  to  prove, 
By  still  resembling  the  immortall  kinde ; 
Yet  makes  the  world  our  better  part  so  blinde, 
That  we  the  clouds  of  vanity  imbrace, 
And  from  our  first  excellency  decline; 
This  doth  distinguish  that  celestiall  grace, 
Which  should  make  soules  to  burne  with  vertues  love, 
Whose  fancies  vice  luxuriously  now  feasts ; 
"  Vice  is  the  Circe  that  enchants  the  minde, 
"  And  doth  transforme  her  followers  all  in  swine ; 
"  Whil'st  poyson'd  pleasures  so  corrupt  our  tastes, 
"  That   of   halfe-gods,   we   make   our    selves    whole- 
beasts:" 
And  yet  of  ruthlesse  Plidd s  raging  host, 
The  vice  which  doth  transport  presumptuous  hearts, 
And  makes  men  from  the  Gods  to  differ  most. 
Is  cruelty,  that  to  the  sufferers  cost. 
And  actors  both,  is  often-times  appeas'd : 
The  gods  delight  to  give,  and  to  forgive. 
By  pardoning,  and  not  by  plagueing  pleas' d; 
And  why  should  men  excogitate  strange  arts, 
To  shew  their  tyranny,  as  those  who  strive 
To  feed  on  mischiefe  though  the  author  smarts, 
Oft  for  the  deed  of  which  himselfe  did  boast, 
Whil'st  whence  the'  blow  first  came,  the  griefe  doth 

turne : 
"  For,  that  by  which  the  minde  at  first  was  eas'd, 
"  May  it  in  th'  end  the  greatest  burden  give ; 
'•'  Oft  those  whose  cruelty  makes  many  mourne, 
"  Do  by  the  fires  which  they  first  kindled  burne ; 
"  Of  other  tyrants  which  oppresse  the  minde. 


1 7  6  Stirling's  Poems. 

"  With  pleasure  some  delight  it,  in  such  sort 

"  That  first  the  hony,  then  the  gall  we  finde; 

"  And  others  (though  from  honours  court  declin'd) 

"  Some  comfort  yield  (but  base)  by  hope  of  gaine ; 

"  And,  though  some  make  us  to  be  loath'd  of  one, 

"We  by  their  meanes  anothers  love  obtaine; 

"  But  cruelty,  with  which  none  can  comport, 

"  Makes  th'  authors  hated  when  the  deed  is  done, 

"  Oft  even  by  those  whom  it  did  most  support, 

"  As  that  which  alienates  men  from  their  kinde ; 

"  And  as  humanity  the  minde  enchaunts, 

"  So  barbarous  soules  which  from  the  same  refraine, 

"  More  fierce  than  savage  beasts,  are  lov'd  of  none : 

"  Since  with  such  beasts  one  with  lesse  danger  haunts, 

"  Then  with  the  man  whose  minde  all  mercy  wants;" 

Yet  though  the  minde  of  man,  as  strong,  and  rude, 

Be  ravish' d  oft  with  violent  desire, 

And  must,  if  fir'd  with  rage,  be  quench'd  with  bloud, 

How  can  this  tender  sexe  whose  glory  stood 

In  having  hearts  inclin'd  to  pity  still 

It  selfe  delight  in  any  barbarous  deed? 

For,  nature  seemes  in  this  to  use  her  skill, 

In  making  womens  mindes  (though  weake)  entire, 

That  weaknesse  might,  love,  and  devotion  breed ; 

To  which  their  thoughts  (if  pure)  rtiight  best  aspire 

As  aptest  for  th'  impressions  of  all  good, 

But  from  the  best  to  worst  all  things  do  weare ; 

Since  cruelties  from  feeble  mindes  proceed, 

"  In  breasts  where  courage  failes,  spite,  shame,  and  feare 

"  Make  envy,  hate,  and  rigour  rule  to  beare." 

Our  queene  Olympias,  who  was  once  so  great, 


The  Alexatidrcean  Tragedy.  1 93 

Their  glory  darkning  by  that  odious  stayne : 

And  though  Eumenes  trusting  to  new  hopes, 

By  flying  labour'd  succour  to  have  found, 

He  was  prevented  by  his  trait'rous  troupes, 

And  (like  to  some  base  fugitive)  was  bound. 

Scarce  could  his  stormy  stomack  bent  to  breake, 

Daigne  to  entreat  those  who  had  him  betrai'd. 

Yet,  hauing  hardly  purchas'd  leave  to  speake, 

He  stretch'd  them  forth  his  fettred  hands,  and  sayd  : 

Loe,  what  apparell  now  your  generall  weares, 

Since  with  your  faith  his  libertie  was  lost; 

Yet  he  those  bands  not  given  by  th'  enemie  beares ; 

No,  but  by  you  in  whom  he  trusted  most : 

And  must  he  thus  be  led,  who  should  you  lead  \ 

Is  this  the  triumph  which  I  should  receave 

For  all  my  victories,  thus  to  be  made 

Of  captaine,  captive;  of  a  conquerour,  slave? 

How  oft  (my  souldiers)  have  ye  all  of  late 

To  me  by  solemne  oaths  sworne  to  be  true"? 

"  But  it  becomes  none  in  a  captives  state 

"  With  loftie  words  his  keepers  to  pursue;" 

Nor  crave  I  further  favour  at  this  houre, 

Then  that  ye  bath  your  weapons  in  my  brest ; 

Let  not  my  life  be  in  mine  enemies  pow'r, 

Loe  all  that  your  commander  doth  request. 

I  know  Antigotnis  doth  take  no  care 

Who  get  my  bodie,  so  he  get  my  head ; 

And  he  regards  not,  neither  when,  nor  where, 

Nor  in  what  sort  I  die,  so  I  be  dead. 

But  if  through  horrour  of  so  vile  a  deed 

Your  eyes  looke  downe,  your  haire  erected  stands, 

VOL.    II.  o 


194  Stirling's  Poems. 

Which  in  your  mindes  this  much  remorse  doth  breed, 
That  as  your  hearts  ye  will  not  staine  your  hands; 
Then  as  your  captaine,  since  not  force  I  may, 
I  (as  your  friend)  entreate,  that  now  in  time 
I  may  but  have  a  sword  my  selfe  to  slay, 
You  to  excuse,  whilst  partner  of  your  crime. 
But  when  he  saw  that  words  could  not  assvvage 
Their  barb'rous  thoughts  which  nothing  could  con- 

troule. 
Then  having  turn'd  his  courage  all  in  rage, 
He  thus  flam'd  forth  the  fury  of  his  soule: 
O  damned  rascalls  who  have  lost  all  faith. 
Whom  neither  duty,  nor  yet  merit  bindes ! 
How  oft  was  Alexander  mov'd  to  wrath 
By  those  your  mut'nous  and  malitious  mindes^ 
And,  O !  what  could  I  at  those  hands  attend, 
Which  yet  were  smoaking  with  Perdiccas  blood? 
Of  those  who  by  like  treason  did  intend 
With  old  Antipaters  to  be  imbru'd. 
Heaven  thunder  on  you  from  th'  Eetheriall  rounds, 
And  make  you  live  (abominable  band) 
Base  vagabonds,  barr'd  from  your  native  bounds, 
Then  die  detested  in  a  barb'rous  land; 
And  as  ye  have  the  world  with  murder  fill'd. 
So  may  your  blood  by  the  same  swords  be  shed. 
By  which  you  have  moe  of  your  captain es  kill'd 
Then  of  your  foes,  from  whom  (like  beasts)  ye  fled. 
But  neither  courteous,  nor  outragious  words 
Could  change  his  souldiers  from  their  first  intent; 
Who  forward  led  their  captaine  chain'd  with  cords, 
(A  scorned  captive)  to  his  rivals  tent, 


The  Alexafidr(san  Tragedy.  1 95 

Where  to  the  end  that  he  might  quickly  end, 

He  ask'd,  what  stay'd  Antigouus  to  goe 

By  setting  of  him  free  to  gaine  a  friend, 

Or  by  his  death  to  rid  him  of  a  foe; 

And  soone  Antigonus  did  hast  his  fall, 

By  this  great  magnanimity  not  mov'd ; 

And  tJi  Agiraspides  (dispers'd  o're  all) 

As  murderers,  murder  from  the  world  remov'd. 

"  Thus  oft  have  traitours  beene  dispatch'd  in  time. 

"  By  those  whom  their  upbraiding  lookes  dismay : 

"That  loath'd  remembrance  of  the  authors  crime 

"  The  actors  death  can  onely  wipe  away." 

Now  claimes  Antigonus  when  fame  doth  feast, 

Above  his  soveraignes  selfe  in  ranke  to  sit; 

For  Alexander  \i\xi  subdu'd  the  East, 

And  he  hath  conquer'd  them  who  conquer'd  it. 

Cass.  No  doubt,  but  he  will  doe  the  best  he  can, 
And  hath  within  himselfe  high  things  design'd : 
"  For  whilst  prosperity  transports  a  man, 
"  Nought  seemes  difficult  to  a  loftie  minde." 

Sel.  Of  those  in  whom  he  did  suspect  a  sprite. 
Whose  courage  serv'd  his  courses  to  resist, 
He  hath  himselfe  by  diverse  meanes  made  quite : 
In  others  wreakes  his  safety  doth  consist; 
Thus  martiall  Pithon  who  no  danger  spar'd, 
(Whom  Alexander  held  in  high  account) 
Did  at  the  last  receave  a  hard  reward, 
For  helping  him  Eumenes  to  surmount. 
His  sprite  to  tempt,  and  power  fit  to  performe 
Made  jealousie  Antigonus  torment; 
And  yet  he  faign'd  to  love  him  for  the  forme, 


196  Stirl'mg's  Poems. 

Till  he  his  court  did  move  him  to  frequent, 

Where  whilst  he  did  (mistrusting  nought)  abide, 

He  publikely  in  all  the  peoples  sight 

(Though  seeming  justly)  damn'd  unjustly  di'd  : 

"  No  wrong  more  vile  then  wrong  that  lookes  like  right." 

Thus  divers  governours  within  short  space, 

Their  government,  or  then  their  life  have  lost, 

And  others  are  preferr'd  unto  their  place, 

Who  did  depend  upon  his  favour  most; 

Oft  likewise  me  he  labour'd  to  surprise. 

By  policy  whom  he  would  have  o'rethrowne : 

But  I,  whom  Pytho7is  danger  had  made  wise, 

Learn'd  by  his  ruine  to  prevent  mine  owne; 

To  save  my  life  abandon' d  is  my  state, 

And  I  have  fled  with  danger  as  you  see : 

That  you  may  know,  how  that  man  doth  grow  great, 

Whose  pride  may  plague  you  all,  as  well  as  me. 

Cass.  Then  let  us  see  what  course  we  should  intend, 
Least  (out  of  time  made  wise)  we  rue  too  late. 

Lys.  "  I  rather  first  pursue,  then  last  defend." 

Ptol.  "  A  fire  would  still  be  quench'd  ere  it  grow 
great." 

Cass.  Then  let  us  from  Antigonus  in  haste 
Demand  our  share  of  what  he  did  attaine; 
Since  in  this  warre  we  did  our  treasure  waste, 
We  should  be  likewise  partners  of  the  gaine : 
But  if  against  our  suite  his  eares  he  barre. 
And  doe  with  scornefull  words  contemne  our  claime, 
Then  may  our  messenger  denounce  the  warre, 
And  we  shall  shortly  prosecute  the  same.     . 

Ptol.  A  mutuall  band  must  made  amongst  us  be, 


The  Alexandraaii  Tragedy.  197 

To  make  one  fortune  common  to  us  all, 

And  from  hence-forth  we  must  all  foure  agree 

To  stand  together,  or  together  fall. 

And  since  the  princely  buds  for  which  we  car'd, 

(How  ever  dead)  are  dead,  what  ere  we  doe, 

So  to  procure  from  men  the  more  regard, 

We  with  the  state  must  take  the  title  too. 

And  we  must  both  be  crown'd,  and  knowne  for  kings, 

"  The  diadem  of  greatnesse  is  the  tower : 

"  All  vulgar  judgements  leane  on  th'  outward  things, 

"  And  reverence  state,  where  they  obey  but  pow'r." 

[Exeunt. 

Ntmtius,  Philastnis,  Chorus. 

Nun.  Is  there  a  heaven?  and  are  there  heavenly 
pow'rs 
To  whose  decree  terrestriall  things  are  thrall? 
Or  would  the  tyrant  that  begets  the  houres, 
(Eternity  not  spar'd)  extinguish  all? 
Loe,  nature  travels  now,  as  big  with  change, 
Since  mortals  all  humanity  have  lost, 
And  in  th'  old  chaos,  or  some  masse  more  strange 
To  leave  their  essence  all  things  earthly  boast. 
Can  reasonable  soules  (from  reason  barr'd) 
Even  strive  which  most  in  cruelty  exceeds? 
What  eye  hath  scene?  or  yet  what  eare  hath  heard 
Such  monstrous  chances,  and  prodigious  deedes? 
Th'  Arabian  robbers,  nor  the  Scythians  wild. 
With  savage  beasts,  which  doe  (as  barbarous)  haunt 
With  such  foule  facts  have  not  themselves  defil'd, 


1 98  Stirling's  Poems. 

As  those  who  of  civility  doe  vaunt. 

Since  Greekes  (growne  barbarous)  basely  are  inclin'd, 

All  vertue  vanish'd  is,  all  good  forgot. 

O  carelesse  heavens !  wretch'd  earth ! 

Cho.  What  loads  thy  minde? 

Nun.  A  multitude  of  murders. 

Cho.  What? 

Nun.  What  notl 

Cho.  We  know  that  since  our  soveraigne  lost  his 
breath, 
Th'  earth   hath  beene  bath'd  with  many  a  crimson 

flood; 
Perdiccas  did  procure  Meleagers  death, 
And  his  owne  souldiers  drown'd  his  breath  with  blood, 
Th'  Athenians  prey  Leonatus  did  remaine, 
And  (by  Eumenes  subtiltie  dismai'd) 
Neoptolemus  and  Cratcrus  were  slaine, 
Then  by  his  owne  Eumenes  was  betrai'd. 

Phil.  "■  Man  with  his  skill  against  his  knowledge 
strives, 
"  Where  death  his  way  attends,  that  way  he  tends, 
"  And  t'  Aropos  the  fatall  razor  gives 
"  To  cut  the  threed  on  which  his  life  depends. 
"  When  Asia's  victor  after  all  his  warres," 
Great  Babylon  to  view  had  bent  his  mind; 
Both  I,  and  others,  studious  of  the  starres, 
Did  shew  that  there  his  ruine  was  design'd; 
And  to  his  successors  we  oft  have  showne 
The  meanes  by  which  their  fate  might  be  controul'd, 
Yet  was  our  skill  contemn' d,  and  they  o'rethrowne, 
As  we  fore-told,  and  as  they  now  have  told. 


The  Alexandr (Ban  Tragedy.  199 

Nun.  They  have  told  much,  and  yet  I  must  tell  more, 
Their  nevves  were  evill,  yet  were  they  not  the  worst. 

Cho.  And  have  the  heaven  reserv'd  more  plagues 
in  store? 
As  if  we  yet  were  not  enough  accurst. 

Nu7i.  "  As  th'  earth  in  pride,  the  heavens  in  plagues 
abounds;" 
Our  highest  hopes  have  perish'd  but  of  late. 

Cho.  Then   wound   our   eares    by   hearing    others 
wounds, 
That  pittie  now  may  tread  the  steps  of  hate. 

Nun.  Our  queene  Olympias  (raging  with  revenge) 
All  Macedonie  did  with  murders  fill, 
Which  from  her  part  the  people  did  estrange, 
Whil'st  rigor  onely  limited  her  will. 
So  that  when  fierce  Cassaiider  sought  her  wreake. 
She  did  mistrust  the  Macedonians  mindes, 
And  for  the  time  the  nearest  strength  did  take, 
There,  till  the  storme  was  past,  to  waite  faire  winds. 
But  soone  Cassander  did  the  towne  enclose. 
And  as  she  held  him  out,  did  hold  her  in, 
That  (like  a  captive  guarded  by  her  foes) 
She  knew  not  by  what  way  a  way  to  winne; 
And  when  lives  scant  provision  did  decay. 
Then  did  bare  walles  but  small  refuge  afford : 
"  '$i\vQ  Scylla  scap'd  to  be  Charybdis  prey, 
"  Who  fell  on  famine  flying  from  the  sword." 
Straight  like  pale  ghosts,  faint  souldiers  did  remaine, 
Whose  bowels  hunger  like  a  harpie  teares. 
And  with  couragious  words,  the  queene  in  vaine 
Did  raise  their  sprite  (the  belly  hath  no  eares) 


200  Stirling's  Poems. 


"d 


All  languishing  did  then  begin  to  fade, 
As  if  too  weake  to  beare  themselves  about. 
Legges  fail'd  the  body,  and  the  necke  the  head, 
Then  whil'st  the  flesh  fell  in,  bones  bursted  out; 
And  when  that  meates  which  common  are  were  spent. 
Then  horses,  dogs,  cats,  rats,  all  serv'd  for  food. 
Of  which,  no  horrour  th'  eaters  did  torment. 
For  what  not  poyson  was,  all  then  seem'd  good : 
Some  mouthes  accustom'd  once  with  dainty  meates, 
Wish'd  what  they  oft  had  loath'd,  vile  cruras,  foule 

flouds. 
And  ladies  which  had  liv'd  in  pompous  states, 
Fed,  as  brought  up  with  wolves  amidst  the  woods. 
Yea,  nurst  by  those  whom  they  themselves  had  nurst. 
Oft  by  the  off- springs  death  the  parent  liv'd: 
And  which  was  worst,  whil'st  brests  were  like  to  burst, 
None  could  give  comfort,  all  themselves  were  griev'd. , 
Such  was  their  state,  no  friend  bewail'd  his  friend. 
No  wife  her  husband,  no,  nor  syre  his  sonne; 
For  apprehending  their  approaching  end, 
All  with  compassion  of  themselves  were  wonne. 
The  dead  mens  smell  empoyson'd  them  who  liv'd, 
Whil'st  first  made  faint  by  a  defrauded  wombe; 
Heapes  were  of  breath  and  buriall  both  depriv'd, 
That  all  the  towne  in  end  was  but  a  tombe. 

Cho.  Life  is  the  subject  of  distresse  and  griefe, 
"  That  still  affords  us  matter  to  bemone; 
"  And  we  by  death  can  onely  have  reliefe : 
"  To  live,  and  to  be  wretch'd,  are  both  but  one. 
"  Yet  foolish  worldlings  toss'd  with  endlesse  care, 
"  (Though  at  too  deare  a  rate)  would  still  buy  breath, 


The  AlexandrceaJi  Tragedy.  201 

"  And  following  feathers  wavering  through  the  ayre, 
"  Love   life   (though   wretch'd)  more    then   a   happy 
death." 
Nun.  When  thus  the  world  Olympias  plagu'd  did 

spy, 

All  sought  Cassander  though  for  severall  ends. 

Cho.  All  as  a  pest  them  who  are  wretch'd  doe  flye : 
"  Ecclipsed  fortune  threatens  losse  of  friends." 

Nim.  And  she  considering  that  she  could  not  long 
Hold  out  the  siege,  since  victuals  were  grown  scant, 
Did  send  (as  weake)  for  peace  unto  the  strong. 

Cho.  "  Thus  time  and  travell  all  things  once  may 
daunt." 

Nun.  Then   did    Cassander  know   that  need  con- 
strain'd 
Her  so  to  bow,  as  every  way  diseas'd: 
And,  though  he  her  request  not  quite  disdain'd, 
Yet  the  appointment  was  such  as  he  pleas'd : 
For,  all  the  favour  that  she  could  procure, 
Was  leave  to  live  a  private  person  still ; 
And  yet  of  that  she  could  not  be  made  sure, 
Which  did  depend  upon  the  victors  will. 
Then  whil'st  Cassander  sought  his  enemies  ends, 
Huge  numbers  with  him  alwaies  did  abide. 

Cho.  Yet    might   have    many   followers,    and   few 
friends : 
"  Friends  by  the  touch-stone  of  distresse  are  try'd." 

Nun.  But  though  the  queen  was  rend'red  in  this  sort, 
A  promise  given  that  life  should  be  preserv'd. 
The  tyrant  with  her  sprite  could  not  comport, 
But  from  his  faith,  for  her  confusion  swerv'd : 


202  Stirling's  Poems. 

The  Macedonians  were  together  brought, 

There  to  consult  what  did  concerne  their  queene: 

Of  whom  when  as  a  number  deepely  thought, 

Both  what  she  was,  and  what  she  once  had  beene ; 

Even  as  Cassa?ider  had  suborn'd  them  all, 

Their  parents  came  whom  she  had  damn'd  to  death, 

And  did  her  rigour  to  remembrance  call, 

By  which  the  multitude  was  mov'd  to  wrath. 

Whilst  from  their  brests  all  pitty  quite  was  barr'd. 

They  did  conclude,  their  queene  behov'd  to  dye. 

Cho.  Durst  subjects  damne  their  soveraignel  and 
not  heard? 
So  still  may  clouds  obscure  the  worlds  bright  eye. 

Nun.  Yet  did  Cassandcr  put  (false  every  way) 
A  maske  of  pitty  on  a  cruell  minde, 
And  ofifred  her  a  ship  to  flye  away, 
As  if  to  death  against  his  will  asfeign'd; 
Nor  was  this  course  for  her  delivery  fram'd. 
But  onely  as  by  chance  that  she  might  drowne : 
So  for  her  death  that  he  might  not  be  blam'd, 
But  onely  Neptune  who  had  drunke  her  downe : 
Yet  she  (a  princesse  of  a  mighty  spright), 
Whose  lofty  courage  nothing  could  o'recome. 
Said,  ere  she  scap'd  by  such  a  shamefull  flight, 
That  she  would  heare  the  Macedonians  doome. 
But  when  Cassanders  counsell  was  contemn'd. 
Lest  that  the  multitude  had  chang'd  their  minde, 
When  they  remembred  whom  they  had  condemn'd. 
And  did  the  fulnesse  of  his  purpose  finde. 
To  rid  her  soone  from  paine,  and  him  from  feare, 
He  sent  some  bands  from  pitty  most  estrang'd : 


The  Alexandrian  Tragedy.  203 

Yet  she  'gainst  fortune  did  a  banner  beare, 

And  not  her  heart,  no,  not  her  count' nance  chang'd. 

She  constant  still,  though  mon'd,  would  never  mone, 

Whose  stately  gesture  brav'd  their  bold  attempt, 

And  did  unite  her  vertues  all  in  one. 

To  grace  disgrace,  and  glorifie  contempt. 

She  on  two  ladies  shoulders  lean'd  her  armes. 

And  with  a  majestic  did  march  to  death, 

Like  Alexander  once  amid'st  th'  alarmes, 

As  if  in  triumph  to  abandon  breath. 

"  The  height  of  vertue  admiration  brings," 

At  this  great  magnanimity  amaz'd: 

As  at  the  image  of  their  antient  kings, 

Or  then  some  goddesse  all  the  souldiers  gaz'd : 

But  (ah)  some  (forced  by  the  tyrant)  striv'd 

To  spoile  (unnatural!)  natures  fairest  frame. 

And  twixt  th'  alabaster  balles,  they  driv'd 

Th'   unwilling    swords    that    straight    grew   red    for 

shame. 
Then,  she  in  worth  who  did  all  else  excell, 
Would  neither  word,  nor  teare,  nor  sigh  forth  send, 
But  spread  her  garments  o're  her,  whilst  she  fell, 
As  of  her  honour  jealous  to  the  end. 

Cho.  O  strange  barbarity,  most  monstrous  deed ! 
Could  men  a  woman,  subjects  kill  their  queene: 
And  could  her  fortune  past  no  pitty  breed  % 
Who  ever  gave  the  wound,  hath  not  her  scene. 
The  ugly  author  of  those  odious  evils, 
(Of  punisment  afraid)  must  still  be  sad. 
His  brest  a  hell,  his  thoughts  all  turn'd  to  divels, 
(Through  horrour  of  himselfe)  must  make  him  mad. 


204  Stirling's  Poems. 

Nun.  And  yet  the  plague  of  these  detested  times, 
Doth  by  more  mischiefe  aggravate  our  grones. 

Cho.  "  No  end  in  sinne,  crimes  are  maintain'd  by 
crimes, 
"  Who  fall  in  depths,  must  touch  the  bottome  once : 
"  The  path  of  honour  hath  but  narrow  bounds, 
"  On  which  who  step,  attentive  must  remaine : 
''  Since  rais'd  so  high  above  the  vulgar  grounds, 
"  That  who  thence  fall  can  never  rise  againe." 

Nun.  Thus  now  Cassander  (since  he  cannot  winne 
True  reputation,  but  lives  tainted  still) 
Imbark'd  in  mischiefe,  failes  the  depths  of  sinne, 
So  if  not  lov'd  as  good,  yet  fear'd  as  ill. 
Though  (by  his  meanes)  his  ruthlesse  eyes  have  scene 
Fates  (as  it  were  from  fortunes  bosome)  take, 
His  king  by  poyson,  by  the  sword  his  queene, 
Even  yet  himselfe  more  guilty  still  to  make. 
He  (prosp'ring  in  impiety)  grew  proud, 
And  murdred  both  his  masters  sonne  and  wife ; 
Thus  he,  who  all  the  world  by  birth-right  ow'd, 
Could  have  no  part  of  it,  no,  not  his  life. 
Yet  could  Roxanaes  death  not  ease  his  minde, 
Nor  her  yong  sonne,  too  soone  made  Plidoes  guest : 
But  to  undoe  all  Alexanders  kinde, 
That  to  revenge  the  rest,  there  might  none  rest. 
By  treason  he  (as  all  his  deeds  are  done) 
Caus'd  Hercules  his  brothers  steppes  to  trace, 
Who  was  great  Alexanders  bastard  sonne. 
And  th'  onely  remnant  of  that  great  mans  race, 
Loe,  thus  Cassander.,  enemy  to  all  good. 
Whose  soule  so  much  for  Macedonie  longs  : 


The  Alexandrcean  Tragedy.  205 

Hath  to  the  scepter  swim'd  through  seas  of  bloud, 
Yet,  O  weake  right,  since  builded  but  on  wrongs ! 

Cho.  O,  how  ambition  doth  abuse  the  great ! 
Who  with  enough  not  pleas'd,  still  strive  for  more : 
Loe,  how  our  soveraigne  seem'd  to  raise  his  state, 
Yet  made  it  but  to  fall  whilst  starv'd  with  store. 
And  since  his  trophees  rear'd  in  severall  fields, 
Both  him  and  his  have  to  confusion  brought, 
"  Then,  what  is  all  the  good  that  greatnesse  yeelds, 
"  Which  makes  it  selfe  seem  much  to  be  made  nought? 
"  Thus,  though  the  mountaines  make  a  mighty  show, 
"  They  are  but  barren  heapes  borne  up  aloft, 
"  Where  plains  are  pleasant  still,  though  they  lye  low, 
"  And  are  most  fertile  too,  though  trod  on  oft. 
"  Greatnesse  is  like  a  cloud  in  th'  ayrie  bounds, 
"  Which  some  base  vapours  have  congeal'd  above  : 
"  It  brawles  with  Vulca?i,  thundring  forth  huge  sounds, 
"  Yet  melts  and  falles  there  whence  it  first  did  move." 

Phil.  Since  that  worlds  conqu'ror  then  whilst  farre 
from  feare, 
(By  too  much  power  press'd)  so  soone  was  dead: 
Why  doe  his  captaines  strive  who  now  should  beare 
The  diadem  that  crush'd  so  strong  a  head? 
O!  when  my  minde  is  ravish'd  through  the  starres, 
To  search  the  secret  secrets  of  the  fates? 
What  treasons,  murthers,  mutinies  and  warres, 
Are  threatning  to  o' rethrow  usurp'd  seates? 
That  false  Cassander  who  betraid  his  lord, 
And  spoil'd  the  princely  race,  in  mischiefe  chiefe, 
(A  traitour  both  of  heaven  and  earth  abhorr'd) 
Shall  live  but  with  disgrace,  and  dye  with  griefe. 


2o6  Stirling's  Poems. 


'6 


His  sonnes  (in  wickednesse  himselfe  t'  exceed) 
Shall  make  the  woman  dye  who  made  them  live; 
Then  both  (when  drunke  with  bloud)  to  death  shall 

bleed, 
And  none  of  theirs  their  funerals  shall  survive : 
When  rash  ambition  should  be  cool'd  by  age, 
Lysimachus  shall  by  Sckucus  dye ; 
Nor  shall  Seleucus  long  enjoy  the  stage, 
But  by  like  violence  shall  breathlesse  lye; 
And  subtle  Ptolemies  degener'd  race, 
(Long  onely  famous  for  infamous  things) 
Shall  end  and  to  the  pride  of  foes  give  place, 
Whilst  a  lascivious  queene  confusion  brings; 
Antigomis  shall  be  in  battell  kill'd. 
His  Sonne  a  captive  perish  with  disgrace, 
And  after  that  it  Greece  with  bloud  hath  fill'd. 
In  th'  end,  destruction  doth  attend  that  race ; 
The  last  in  pow'r  (though  of  their  line  not  bred) 
A  niggard,  and  a  dastard,  beaten  downe, 
Shall  (through  a  strangers  towne,  a  captive  led) 
Of  Macedonie  bound  the  old  renowne. 

Chorus. 

"  What  damned  furies  thus  tosse  mortals  mindes, 

"  With  such  a  violent  desire  to  raigne"? 

"  That  neither  honour,  friendship,  duty,  bloud, 

"  Nor  yet  no  band  so  sacred  is  as  bindes 

"  Ambitious  thoughts  which  would  a  kingdome  gaine  : 

"  But  all  is  buried  in  blacke  Lethes  floud, 

"  That  may  the  course  of  soveraignty  restraine. 


The  AlexandrcBan  Tragedy.  207 

"  Which  from  the  brest  doth  all  respects  repell, 
"  And  like  a  torrent  cannot  be  gaine-stood : 
"  Yea  many  would,  a  scepter  to  obtaine, 
'"  In  spite  of  all  the  world,  and  loves  owne  wrath, 
"  March  through  the  lowest  dungeons  of  the  hels, 
"  And  from  a  diademe  would  breath  with  pow'r, 
"  Though  all  deaths  engines  brag'd  them  every  houre," 
Yet,  though  such  restlesse  mindes  attaine  in  th'  end 
The  height  to  which  their  haughty  hearts  aspir'd, 
They  never  can  embrace  that  dreamed  blisse, 
Which  their  deluded  thoughts  did  apprehend ; 
Though  by  the  multitude  they  be  admir'd. 
That  still  to  pow'r  doth  shew  it  selfe  submisse; 
Yet  by  the  soule  still  further  is  requir'd, 
Which  should  scale  up  th'  accomplishment  of  joy; 
"  Thus  partiall  judgements  blindely  ayme  amisse, 
"  At  things  which  stand  without  our  reach  retir'd, 
"  Which  whilst  not  ours,  as  treasures  we  define, 
"  But  not  the  same  whilst  we  the  same  enjoy; 
"  Some  things  a  farre  doe  like  the  glow-worme  shine, 
"  Which  look't  too  neere,  have  of  that  light  no  signe. 
"  No  charge  on  th'  earth  more  weighty  to  discharge, 
"  Then  that  which  of  a  kingdome  doth  dispose : 
"  O !  those  who  manage  must  the  reynes  of  state, 
"  Till  their  pale  ghost  imbarke  in  CJiarons  barge, 
"  They  never  need  t'  attend  a  true  repose : 
"  How  hard  is  it  to  please  each  mans  conceit, 
"When  gaining  one,  they  must  another  lose? 
"  Thus,  hardly  kings  themselves  can  evenly  beare, 
"Whom  if  severe  (as  cruell)  subjects  hate; 
"  Contempt  dare  to  the  milde  it  selfe  oppose; 


2o8  Stirlinsi's  Poems 


t, 


"  Who  spare  in  time,  as  niggards  are  despis'd, 

"  Men  from  too  franke  a  minde,  exactions  feare, 

"  Though  in  all  shapes  (as  Proteus  us'd)  disguis'd, 

"  Kings  by  some  scandal!  alwaies  are  surpris'd." 

Yet  one  might  well  with  every  thing  comport, 

Which  on  opinion  onely  doth  depend, 

If  further  danger  follow'd  not  by  deeds. 

But  every  monarch  (loe)  in  many  a  sort 

Death  (laid  in  ambush)  alwaies  doth  attend; 

Of  some  by  mut'nous  swords  the  life  forth  bleeds; 

By  unsuspected  poyson  others  end, 

Which  whilst  they  alwaies  labour  to  prevent, 

A  thousand  deaths  within  their  breasts  life  breeds ; 

Loe,  this  is  all  for  which  the  great  contend. 

Who,  (whilst  their  pride  themselves  and  others  spoiles) 

With  their  dominions  doe  their  cares  augment : 

"  And  O  vaine  man  who  toyl'st  to  double  toyles, 

"  Though  still  the  victory  the  victor  foiles : " 

Thus  Alexander  could  not  be  appeas'd, 

Whilst  he  to  raise  his  state  did  wayes  prepare, 

Which  when  made  most,  diminish'd  most  remain'd, 

Where  (with  his  fathers  bounds  had  he  beene  pleas'd) 

He  might  have  left  our  crowne  sure  to  his  heire, 

Who  by  his  conquest  nought  but  death  hath  gayn'd ; 

Yet  for  no  paines  a  number  now  doth  spare. 

To  worke  for  that  by  which  his  wreake  was  wrought, 

Which  (though  from  it  they  rage  to  be  restrain' d) 

Would  (if  possest)  their  pleasures  but  impaire ; 

Yet  they  by  harme  of  others  seeke  the  thing 

Which  by  their  harme  of  others  will  be  sought : 

"  To  him  and  his,  each  of  them  death  would  bring, 


The  Akxandrccan  Tragedy.  209 

"  That  it  might  once  be  said  he  was  a  king. 

"  We  may  securely  sitting  on  the  shore, 

"  Whilst  great  men  doe  (as  toss'd  on  th'  ocean)  grone, 

"  Taught  by  their  toyles,  esteeme  much  of  our  rest : 

•'  For  this  doth  thousands  with  affliction  store, 

"  Which  of  the  world  as  most  unhappy  moane, 

"  If  they  but  chance  to  view  some  few  more  blest, 

"  Where  if  they  would  but  marke,  how  many  a  one 

"  More  wretch'd  then  they  in  misery  doth  live, 

"  It  straight  would  calme  the  most  unquiet  brest ; 

"  The  cottage  oft  is  happier  then  the  throne; 

"  To  thinke  our  owne  state  good,  and  others  ill : 

"  It  could  not  but  a  great  contentment  give : 

"  There  much  consists  in  the  conceit  and  will : 

"  To  us  all  things  are  as  we  thinke  them  still." 


VOL.    11. 


THE  TRAGEDY   OF 

JVLIVS    C^SAR. 


THE    ARGUMENT. 

At  that  time  when  the  Romans  travelled  with  an  unsatiable 
ambition  to  subdue  all  nations,  by  whose  overthrow  they  could 
conceive  any  expectation,  either  of  glory  or  profit:  Cains  IiiUits 
C(vsar,  a  man  of  a  lofty  minde,  and  given  to  attempt  great  things, 
ascending  by  severall  degrees  to  the  Consulship,  procurred  a 
power  to  warre  against  the  Gaitlcs:  amongst  whom,  after  a 
number  of  admirable  liattels  and  victories  (by  the  approbation  of 
all  the  world,  having  purchased  a  singular  reputation  both  for 
his  courage  and  skill  in  arms)  he  being  long  accustomed  to  com- 
mand, was  so  drunke  with  a  delight  of  soveraignty,  that  disdain- 
ing the  simplicity  of  a  private  life,  he  was  so  farre  from  denuding 
himselfe  of  the  authority  which  he  had,  that  altogether  transported 
with  a  desire  of  more,  he  sent  to  the  Senate,  to  have  his  govern- 
ment of  the  GauL's  prorogated  for  five  yeares :  which  suit  being 
repugnant  to  the  lawes  (as  directly  tending  to  tyranny)  was  by 
the  people  publikely  repelled.  By  which  occasion,  and  some 
others  rising  from  an  emulation  between  him  and  Pompcy  the 
great,  pretending  a  high  indignation,  hee  incontinent  crossed  the 
Alpes,  with  such  forces  (though  few)  as  he  had  in  readinesse,  and 
with  a  great  celerity  came  to  Rome,  which  he  found  abandoned 
by  Poinpty,  in  whom  the  Senate  had  reposed  their  trust,  whom 
shortly  after,  by  a  memorable  battell  in  the  fields  oi  Pharsalia  he 
discomfited :  and  having  by  the  overthrow  of  Scipio,  death  of 
Cato,  and  flight  of  Pompeyes  sonnes,  as  it  were,  rooted  out  all 
the  contrary  faction,  he  returned  to  Rome,  and  indirectly  by  the 
meanes  of  Antojiius,  laboured  to  be  proclaimed  King:  which 
having  rendred  him  altogether  odious;  Caius  Cassius,  Marcus 
Brutus,  Deciiis  Brutus,  Puhlius  Casca,  and  divers  others  (noble 
men)  conspired  his  death,  and  appointed  a  day  for  the  same:  at 
which  time,   notwithstanding    that   Cccsar  was  disswaded  from 


214  Stirling's  Poems. 

going  forth,  by  many  monstrous  apparitions,  and  ominous  pre- 
sages; yet  being  perswaded  hy  Decius  ByiiUis  Albimis,  he  went 
towards  the  fatall  place,  where  the  Senate  was  assembled. 

The  conspirators  in  like  manner  had  many  terrors :  amongst 
others,  Portia  the  wife  of  Marais  Brutus,  although  she  had 
insinuated  her  selfe  in  her  husbands  secret  by  a  notable  proofe  of 
extraordinary  magnanimity,  yet  on  the  day  dedicated  for  the 
execution  of  their  designe,  through  the  apprehension  of  his 
danger,  she  fainted  divers  times,  whereof  Brutus  was  advertised, 
yet  shrinked  not,  but  went  forwards  with  his  confederates  to  the 
appointed  place,  where  they  accomplished  their  purpose,  every 
one  of  them  giving  Cicsar  a  wound,  and  me  a  ground  whereupon 
to  build  this  present  tragedy. 


THE   PERSONS   NAMES   WHO  SPEAKE. 


lUNO. 
C^SAR. 

Antonius. 
Cicero. 
Decius  Brutus. 


Caius  Cassius. 
Marcus  Brutus. 
Portia. 
Calphurnia. 

Nuntius. 


The  Scene  in  Rome. 


THE   TRAGEDY   OF 

JVLIVS     C^SAR. 

ACT   I. 

Jufio. 

Though  I  (a  godesse)  grace  the  azure  round, 

Whilst  birds  (all  bright  with  eyes)  my  coach  do  move. 

And  am  with  radient  starres,  heavens  empresse  crown'd, 

The  thunderers  sister,  wife  of  mighty  love. 

And  though  I  banquet  in  th'  etheriall  bowres. 

Where  ambrosie  and  nectar  serves  for  meate, 

And  at  the  meeting  of  th'  immortall  powres, 

Am  still  advanc'd  unto  the  highest  seat: 

Yet  by  those  glorious  shewes  of  boundlesse  blesse, 

My  burden' d  minde  can  no  way  be  reHev'd : 

Since  immortality  affords  but  this, 

That  I  live  ever  to  be  ever  griev'd. 

In  vaine,  vaine  mortals  seeke  for  helpe  at  me, 

With  sacred  odours  on  my  altars  throwne : 

What  expectation  can  they  have  to  see 

One  venge  their  wrongs,  who  cannot  venge  her  own  { 

May  Pallas  then  drowne  thousands  if  she  please, 

Who  metamorphos'd  Diomedes  mates'? 


2 1 6  Stirling  s  Poems. 


'i> 


And  must  my  enemies  alwaies  live  at  ease, 

As  me  to  spight  appointed  by  the  fates? 

Of  all  the  dying  race  which  lives  below, 

With  such  indignities  none  could  comport, 

As  wound  my  brest,  whom  gods  and  men  doe  know, 

To  be  abus'd  by  love  in  many  a  sort, 

Though  knowne  to  me,  from  others  if  conceal'd. 

His  faults  might  breed  me  griefe,  but  yet  not  shame ; 

Where,  loe,nowboth  through  heaven  and  earth  reveal'd, 

Each  slandrous  theater  doth  his  scorne  proclaime. 

If  divine  soules  divinely  liv'd  aloft, 

The  world  below  would  imitate  them  then, 

But  humaniz'd  by  haunting  mortals  oft. 

Where  men  should  grow  like  gods,  gods  grow  like  men. 

My  painted  Iris  in  her  beauties  pride, 

Smiles  not  on  Phoebus  with  so  many  hewes. 

As  love  in  divers  shapes  himselfe  can  hide, 

When  he  poore  maydes  (by  Cupid  spurr'd)  pursues ; 

He  Danae  (a  golden  shower)  deceiv'd; 

And  did  (a  swanne)  in  Ledaes  bosome  light; 

Then  (turn'd  a  bull)  Agenors  daughter  reav'd ; 

And  lo  made  a  cow  to  mocke  my  sight : 

But  O !  I  wish  that  with  such  wanton  dames, 

He  still  to  sport  would  as  with  me  remaine; 

Not  able  then  to  touch  celestiall  flames. 

All  (like  the  drunkards  mother)  might  be  slaine. 

Then  such  a  troupe  as  Rheas  bosome  stores, 

Would  not  hold  him  and  me  at  endlesse  jarres; 

The  heavens  are  pestred  with  my  husbands  whores, 

Whose  lights  impure  doe  taint  the  purest  starres. 

"  Though  wTongs,  when  grosse,  are  heavy  to  digest. 


The  Tragedy  of  y alius  CcBsar.  2 1 7 

"  An  actors  greatnesse  doth  some  griefe  remove, 

"  Of  whom  to  suffer  wrong  it  shames  one  least: 

"  If  I  were  wrong'd  I  would  be  wrong'd  by  love''' 

But  (ah)  this  long,  tormented  hath  my  brest, 

A  man,  a  boy,  a  shepheard,  yea,  and  worse, 

The  Phrygian  fire-brand,  the  adultrous  guest. 

Who  first  wrought  wrong  by  fraud,  and  then  by  force ; 

He,  he  was  he,  whose  verdict  mov'd  me  most, 

Whilst  partiall  fancies  judg'd  of  beauties  right; 

Nor  was  it  strange  though  one  all  judgement  lost, 

Who  had  three  naked  goddesses  in  sight; 

And  yet  I  know,  had  not  his  wandring  eyes 

The  Cyprian  brib'd  by  some  lascivious  smiles, 

My  pompous  birds  (in  triumph)  through  the  skyes, 

Had  borne  the  gold  which  oft  her  nymphs  beguiles; 

And  am  I  she  whose  greatnesse  is  admir'd. 

Whom  love  for  wife,  whom  thousands  court  for  love? 

Whom  haughty  Ixion  to  embrace  desir'd. 

Yet  with  a  cloud  deluded  did  remove? 

And  what  made  me  a  matter  to  submit. 

Where  my  authority  might  have  avail'd? 

Whilst  though  I  promis'd  wealth,  and  Pallas  wit. 

Yet  with  a  yong  man,  Venus  most  prevail'd; 

"  But  how  durst  he  of  one  the  glory  raise, 

"  Where  two  contemn'd  would  needs  the  wrong  repaire? 

"  It  spites  our  sexe  to  heare  anothers  praise, 

"  Of  which  each  one  would  be  thought  onely  faire." 

To  venge  my  selfe  no  kinde  of  paine  I  spar'd, 

And  made  his  greatest  gaine  his  greatest  losse : 

As  Venus  gave  him  Helen  for  reward, 

I  gave  him  Helen  for  his  greatest  crosse ; 


2i8  Stirling's  Poems. 


■i> 


Nor  did  he  long  with  joy  her  love  enjoy, 

Whose  fatall  flames  his  country  did  confound, 

Whilst  armies  arm'd  for  her  did  Troy  destroy, 

And  Nephmes  labours  levell'd  with  the  ground ; 

Whilst  Simois  seem'd  to  be  a  buriall  field, 

Whose  streams  (as   streets)  were  with  dead   bodies 

pav'd, 
All  Zanthus  plaine  (as  turn'd  a  sea)  did  yeeld 
A  floud  of  bloud,  from  Heroes  wounds  receiv'd; 
Whilst  braving  thousands  once,  though  much  esteem'd. 
By  dust  and  bloud  deform'd,  of  Hector  slaine, 
(Not  like  Patroclus  by  the  sword  redeem'd) 
The  body  basely  was  bought  backe  againe ; 
Then,  by  the  same  mans  sonne  who  kill'd  his  sonne, 
Old  Friamus  surpriz'd,  sigh'd  forth  his  breath. 
And  even  most  harm'd  where  he  for  helpe  had  runne. 
The  altar  taking,  taken  was  by  death. 
Though  wrestling  long  to  scape  the  heavens  decree, 
(Bloud  quenching  lust)  last  parted  from  the  light. 
He  who  lov'd  Helen.,  and  was  loath'd  by  me, 
Did  (as  a  sacrifice)  appease  my  spight. 
Then,  having  liv'd  (if  wretches  have  a  life) 
Till  (in  all  her  ere  dead,  oft  buried  spi'd) 
Though  once  known  both,  nor  mother  then,  nor  wife. 
The  fertile  Hecuba  (made  childelesse)  dy'd. 
Thus,  by  those  meanes  it  would  have  seem'd  to  some 
That  scorned  beauty  had  beene  well  reveng'd : 
But  whilst  they  were  o'recomed,  they  did  o'recome. 
Since  they  their  states  for  better  states  have  chang'd. 
I  in  one  part  that  people  did  confound, 
But  did  enlarge  their  powers  in  every  place : 


Tlie  Tragedy  of  y^ulius  Ccesar.  219 

All  war-like  nations  through  the  world  renown'd, 
From  Phrygian  ruines  strive  to  raise  their  race. 
And  yet  two  traitors  who  betray'd  the  rest — 
O !  that  the  heaven  on  treason  sometimes  smiles ! 
Though  having  worst  deserv'd,  did  chance  the  best, 
More  happy  then  at  home  in  their  exiles ; 
Did  not  Antenor  (stealing  through  his  foes) 
Neere  to  th'  Euganian  mountaines  build  a  towne, 
Of  which  some  nurslings  once  shall  seeke  repose, 
Amidst  the  waves,  and  in  the  depths  sit  downe : 
Their  citie  (spousing  Neptune)  shall  arise, 
The  rarest  common-wealth  that  ever  was, 
Whose  people,  if  as  stout  as  rich  and  wise, 
Might  boast  to  bring  miraculous  things  to  passe. 
Then  false  yEncas,  though  but  borne  t'  obey, 
Did  (of  a  fugitive)  become  a  king : 
And  some  of  his  neere  Tibers  streames  that  stay, 
Would  all  the  world  to  their  obedience  bring. 
Their  ravenous  eagles  soaring  o're  all  lands, 
By  violence  a  mighty  prey  have  wonne, 
That  bastard  brood  of  Mars  with  martiall  bands. 
Have  conquer'd  both  the  mansions  of  the  sunne; 
Their  course  by  mountaines  could  not  be  controld. 
No ;  Neptune  could  not  keep  his  bosome  free : 
The  parching  heate,  nor  yet  the  freezing  cold, 
Their  legions  limits  no  way  could  decree ; 
Yet,  of  that  city  there  can  come  no  good, 
Whose  rising  walles  with  more  then  barbarous  rage, 
The  builder  first  bath'd  with  his  brothers  bloud, 
Which  their  prodigious  conquests  did  presage. 
Oft  hath  that  towne  my  soule  with  anguish  filled, 


220  Sfir/w^'s  Poems. 


£> 


Whose  new-borne  state  did  triumph  o're  my  wrath, 

Like  my  old  foe  who  in  his  cradle  kill'd 

The  serpents  which  I  sent  to  give  him  death. 

By  Sadins,  Albans,  Tuscans,  oft  assail'd, 

Even  in  her  infancy  I  toss'd  Roines  state, 

Yet  still  Laomcdons  false  race  prevail'd. 

And  angry  luno  could  doe  nought  but  hate. 

Then  when  the  gallant  Gaulcs  had  vanquish'd  Rome, 

Who  basely  bought  her  liberty  with  gold, 

A  banish'd  man  Camillus  chanc'd  to  come, 

And  her  imballanc'd  state  redeem'd  of  old; 

Great  Hanniball  our  common  cause  pursu'd. 

And  made  his  bands  within  their  bounds  remaine, 

With  consuls  and  with  pretors  bloud,  imbru'd, 

At  P/irasimene,  and  at  Cannas  slayne; 

In  Romans  mindes,  strange  thoughts  did  doubt  infuse. 

But  whilst  they  fear'd  the  taking  of  their  towne, 

He  who  could  vanquish,  victory  not  use. 

Was  by  their  brasen  fate  (when  high)  thrown  downe ; 

0  what  a  torrent  of  barbarian  bands, 

In  inundations  once  their  walles  did  boast, 
Whilst  Teutons  huge,  and  Cymbers  from  their  lands. 
Like  gyants  march'd,  a  more  then  monstrous  hoste? 
But  though  from  parts  unknowne  to  ruine  Rome, 

1  led  those  troupes  which  all  the  world  admir'd. 
Yet  did  fierce  Mariiis  me  with  them  o'recome. 
And  I  in  vaine  to  venge  old  wrongs  aspir'd; 

By  meanes  more  base  I  likewise  sought  her  harmes, 

Whilst  laniis  church  imported  never  peace, 

I  rais'd  up  abject  Spartacus  in  armes, 

Who  neere  eclips'd  Romes  glory  with  disgrace. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^idms  Ccesar.  221 

Though  I  who  all  the  world  for  helpe  have  sought, 

From  Europe,  Africke,  and  from  Asia  thus, 

Gaules,  Carthaginians,  and  the  Cymbers  brought, 

Yet  did  the  dammage  still  rebound  to  us : 

Of  heaven  and  earth  I  all  the  pow'rs  have  prov'd, 

And  for  their  wracke  have  each  advantage  watch'd : 

But  they  by  forraine  force  cannot  be  mov'd : 

By  Romans,  Romans  onely  may  be  match' d. 

And  I  at  last  have  kindled  civill  warre, 

That   from   their   thoughts   (which    now    no    reason 

bounds) 
Not  onely  laws,  but  natures  laws  doth  barre ; 
The  Sonne  the  syre,  the  brother  brother  wounds; 
Whil'st  th'  eagles  are  oppos'd  to  th'  eagles  so, 

0  what  contentment  doth  my  minde  attaine ! 
No  wound  is  wrong  bestow' d,  each  kills  a  foe, 
What  ever  side  doth  lose,  I  alwayes  gaine. 
But  this  my  soule  exceedingly  annoyes, 
That  all  at  one  time  cannot  be  supprest : 

"  The  warre  helps  some,  as  others  it  destroyes," 
And  those  who  hate  me  most,  still  prosper  best. 
Whil'st  with  their  bloud  their  glory  thousands  spend, 
Ah !  ones  advancement  aggravates  my  woe. 
Who  vaunts  himselfe  from  Venus  to  descend; 
As  if  he  claim'd  by  kinde  to  be  my  foe. 

1  meane  the  man  whose  thoughts  nought  can  appease, 
Whil'st  them  too  high  a  blinde  ambition  bends. 
Whom  (as  her  minion)  fortune  bent  to  please, 

Her  rarest  treasures  prodigally  spends; 

Not  onely  hath  he  daunted  by  the  sword 

The  Gauls,  the  Germans,  and  th'  ^Egyptians  now, 


222  Stirling's  Poems. 

But  of  all  lords  pretends  to  be  made  lord, 

That  who  command  the  world  to  him  may  bow 

Thus  dispossessing  princes  of  their  thrones, 

Whil'st  his  ambition  nothing  can  asswage, 

That  the  subjected  world  in  bondage  grones, 

The  prey  of  pride  the  sacrifice  to  rage, 

"  Men  raile  on  love,  and  sigh  for  Satiirnes  time, 

"  And  to  the  present,  ages  past  preferre, 

"  Then  burden  would  the  gods  with  every  crime, 

"  And  damne  the  heavens,  where  onely  th'  earth  doth 

erre." 
Though  love  (as  stupid)  still  with  Cupid  sports. 
And  not  the  humour  of  proud  Ccesar  spies'? 
Who  may  (if  forcing  thus  the  worlds  chiefe  forts) 
Then  Titans  earst,  more  pow'rfull,  scale  the  skies. 
Yet  lest  he  thrall  him  too,  who  none  free  leaves, 
We  from  the  bounds  above  him  must  repell. 
To  brawle  with  Pluto  in  th'  umbragious  caves, 
There  since  he  will  be  first,  made  first  in  hell. 
What?  with  that  tyrant  I  will  straight  be  even, 
And  send  his  soule  to  the  Tartarian  grove : 
Though  love  will  not  be  jealous  of  his  heaven. 
Yet  luno  must  be  jealous  of  her  love; 
And  though  none  in  the  heavens  would  do  him  ill, 
rie  raise  up  some  in  th'  earth  to  haste  his  death : 
Yea,  though  both  heaven  and  earth  neglect  my  will, 
Hell  can  afford  me  ministers  of  wrath : 
I'le  crosse  Cocytus,  and  the  smoaking  lakes. 
To  borrow  thence  my  brothers  damned  bands, 
The  furies,  arm'd  with  fire-brands  and  with  snakes, 
Shall  plant  their  hell  where  Rome  so  stately  stands ; 


The  Tragedy  of  "Julius  Ccesar.  223 

Whil'st  furies  furious  by  my  fury  made, 

Do  spare  the  dead  to  have  the  Hving  pin'd: 

O!  with  what  joy  will  I  that  army  leade? 

"  Nought  then  revenge  more  calmes  a  wronged  minde," 

I  must  make  this  a  memorable  age, 

By  this  high  vengeance  which  I  have  conceiv'd : 

But  what  though  thousands  dye  t'  appease  my  rage? 

So  CcRsar  perish,  let  no  soule  be  sav'd.  \_Exit. 

Chorus. 

"  We  should  be  loth  to  grieve  the  gods, 

"Who  hold  us  in  a  balance  still; 

"  And  as  they  will 

"  May  weigh  us  up,  or  downe ; 

''  Those  who  by  folly  foster  pride, 

"  And  do  deride 

"  The  terrour  of  the  thunderers  rods, 

"  In  seas  of  sinne  their  soules  do  drowne, 

"And  others  them  abhorre  as  most  unjust, 

'^  Who  want  religion  do  deserve  no  trust:" 

How  dare  fraile  flesh  presume  to  rise 

(Whil'st  it  deserves  heavens  wrath  to  prove) 

On  th'  earth  to  move. 

Lest  that  it  opening  straight, 

Give  death  and  buriall  both  at  once? 

How  dare  such  ones 

Look  up  unto  the  skies, 

For  feare  to  feele  the  thunderers  weight? 

"  All  th'  elements  their  makers  will  attend, 

"  As  prompt  to  plague,  as  men  are  to  offend." 


2  24  Stirling' s  Poems. 

All  must  be  plagu'd  who  God  displease, 

Then  whil'st  he  Bacchus  rites  did  scorne, 

Was  Petit  hens  torne  : 

The  Dclians  high  disdaine 

Made  Niobe  (though  turn'd  a  stone) 

With  teares  still  mone, 

And  {Pallas  to  appease) 

Arachne  weaves  loath'd  webbes  in  vaine : 

Heaven  hath  prepar'd  ere  ever  they  begin, 

A  falle  for  pride,  a  punishment  for  sinne. 

Loe,  luno  yet  doth  still  retaine 

That  indignation  once  conceiv'd, 

For  wrong  receiv'd 

From  Paris  as  we  finde ; 

And  for  his  cause  (bent  to  disgrace 

The  Trojan  race) 

Doth  hold  a  high  disdaine, 

Long  layd  up  in  a  loftie  minde : 

"  We  should  abstaine  from  irritating  those 

"  Whose  thoughts  (if  wrong'd)  not  till  reveng'd 


repose 


>> 


Thus,  thus  for  Paris  fond  desire. 

Who  of  his  pleasures  had  no  part, 

For  them  must  smart : 

Such  be  the  fruits  of  lust ; 

Can  heavenly  breasts  so  long  time  lodge 

A  secret  grudge? 

Like  mortals  thrall  to  yre, 

Till  justice  sometime  seemes  unjust? 

"  Of  all  the  furies  which  afflict  the  soule, 


The  Tragedy  of  y^ulms  Ccesar.  2 

"  Lust  and  revenge  are  hardest  to  controull : " 

The  gods  give  them  but  rarely  rest, 

Who  do  against  their  will  contend, 

And  i^lagues  do  spend, 

That  fortunate  in  nought. 

Their  sprits  (quite  parted  from  repose) 

May  still  expose 

The  stormy  troubled  brest 

A  prey  to  each  tyrannicke  thought : 

"  All  selfe-accusing  soules  no  rest  can  finde ; 

"  What  greater  torment  then  a  troubled  mindel" 

Let  us  adore  th'  immortall  powers. 

On  whose  decree,  of  all  that  ends, 

The  state  depends. 

That  (farre  from  barbarous  broiles) 

We  of  our  life  this  little  space 

May  spend  in  peace 

Free  from  afflictions  showres ; 

Or  at  the  least  from  guilty  toyles ; 

"  Let  us  of  rest  the  treasure  strive  to  gaine, 

"Without  the  which  nought  can  be  had  but  paine." 


ACT    II.      SCENE   I. 

j/^iilms  Ccesar,  Marcus  Antonius. 

Cces.  Now  have  my  hopes  attain'd  the  long'd  for 
heaven. 
In  spight  of  partiall  envies  poysnous  blasts : 
My  fortune  with  my  courage  hath  prov'd  even; 
No  monument  of  miscontentment  lasts. 

VOL.    II.  Q 


>6  Sth'lbisr's  Poems 


ti 


Those  who  corrival'd  me,  by  me  o'rethrowne, 
Did  by  their  falls  give  feathers  to  my  flight : 
I  in  some  corner  rather  live  unknowne 
Then  shine  in  glory,  and  not  shine  most  bright; 
What  common  is  to  two,  rests  no  more  rare, 
In  all  the  world  no  Phcenix  is  save  one, 
That  of  my  deeds  none  challenge  might  a  shave, 
Would  God  that  I  had  acted  all  alone : 
And  yet  at  last  I  need  to  mourne  no  more 
For  envy  of  the  Macedonians  praise. 
Since  I  have  equall'd  all  that  went  before ; 
My  deeds  in  number  do  exceed  my  dayes. 
Some  earst  (whose  deeds  rest  registred  by  fame) 
Did  from  their  conquests  glorious  titles  bring. 
But  greatnesse  to  be  great,  must  have  my  name. 
To  be  a  Ccesar  is  above  a  king. 

Ant.  Those  warre-like  nations,  which  did  nations 
spoile. 
Are  by  thy  legions  to  our  laws  made  thrall ; 
"  What  can  brave  mindes  not  do  by  time  and  toyle? 
"  True  magnanimity  triumphs  o're  all." 

C(^s.  Th'  out-ragious  Gaids  who  in  most  monstrous 
swarmes 
Went  wasting  Asia,  thundering  downe  all  things, 
And  {Macedony  quaking  at  their  armes) 
Did  insolently  make,  and  un-make  kings : 
Those    Gauls   who   having   the   worlds    conquerours 

soil'd, 
(As  if  the  world  might  not  have  match'd  them  then) 
Would  sacrilegiously  have  Delphos  spoil' d, 
And  warr'd  against  the  gods,  contemning  men; 


The  Tragedy  of  yn/iiis  Ccesar.  22 


/ 


Yea,  those  whose  ancestors  our  city  burn'd, 

(The  onely  people  whom  the  Romanes  fear'd) 

By  me  (Rcvncs   nursling)   match'd,    and    o'rematchM 

mourn'd : 
So  what  they  first  eclips'd,  againe  they  clear'd. 
Then,  as  to  subjects  having  given  degrees. 
The  Gauls  no  more  presuming  of  their  might, 
I  (wounding  Nept lines  bosome  with  wing'd  trees) 
Did  with  the  Avorld-divided  Britains  fight; 
The  Germans  from  their  birth  inur'd  to  warre, 
Whose  martiall  mindes  still  haughtie  thoughts  have 

bred, 
Whil'st  neither  men,  nor  walls,  my  course  could  barre. 
(Mask'd  with  my  banners)  saAv  their  Rhene  runne  red  : 
The  easterne  realmes  when  conqu'ring  now  of  late, 
My  comming,  and  o'recomming  was  but  one; 
With  little  paine  ear'st  Pompey  was  call'd  great, 
Who  fought  soft  bands  whose  glorious  dayes  were 

gone : 
But  what  though  thousands  set  ones  praises  forth, 
For  fields  which  shadows,  and  not  swords,  obtain'd ; 
The  rate  (too  easie)  vilifies  the  worth : 
"  Save  by  great  paines,  no  glory  can  be  gain'd  : 
From  dangers  past,  my  comfort  now  proceeds. 
Since  all  who  durst  gaine-stand  I  did  o'recome : 
And,  in  few  words  to  comprehend  my  deeds, 
Rome  conquer'd  all  the  world,  and  Cmsar,  Rome. 
Ant  Loe   those  who   striv'd   your  vertue  to   sup- 
presse, 
(As  whose  great  actions  made  them  jealous  still) 
Whil'st  labouring  but  too  much  to  make  you  lesse, 


2  28  Stirling's  Poems 


<b 


Have  made  you  to  grow  great  against  your  will : 

Great  Pompeys  pompe  is  past,  his  glory  gone, 

And  rigorous  Cato  by  himselfe  lyes  kill'd ; 

Then  dastard  Cicero  more  your  honours  none, 

Thus  all  your  foes  are  with  confusion  fiU'd. 

The  senatours  who  could  not  be  asswag'd, 

Long  to  your  prejudice  their  pow'r  abus'd, 

Till  at  their  great  ingratitude  enrag'd, 

I  swore  our  swords  would  grant  what  they  refus'd. 

When  having  scap'd,  endanger'd,  and  despis'd. 

Brave  Curio  and  I  did  to  your  camp  resort, 

In  old  bare  gownes  (like  some  base  slaves)  disguis'd. 

All  sigh'd  to  see  us  wrong'd  in  such  a  sort. 

Cces.  The   highest  in  the  heaven  who   knows    all 
hearts, 
Do  know  my  thoughts  as  pure  as  are  their  starres, 
And  that  (constrain'd)  I  came  from  forraine  parts 
To  seeme  uncivill  in  the  civill  warres. 
I  mov'd  that  warre  which  all  the  world  bemoanes, 
Whil'st  urg'd  by  force  to  free  my  selfe  from  feares ; 
Still   when    my  hand   gave  wounds,  my    heart   gave 

groanes; 
No  Rommis  bloud  was  shed,  but  I  shed  teares : 
But  how  could  any  elevated  spright. 
Who  had  for  honour  hazarded  his  blood, 
Yeeld  willingly  (by  foes  outragious  spight) 
To  be  defrauded  of  th'  expected  good : 
When  as  a  multitude  of  battels  wonne. 
Had  made  Pontes  empire,  and  my  glory  great ; 
And  that  the  Gauls  (oft  vanquish'd)  had  begun, 
To  beare  the  yoke  which  they  disdain'd  of  late. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^ulius  Ccesar.  329 

Then  glorious  Fovipey,  my  proud  sonne-in-law, 

And  Cato  (who  still  cross'd  what  I  design'd) 

From  favouring  me  the  people  did  withdraw, 

And  had  a  successour  for  spight  assign'd; 

Not  that  he  should  succeed  in  dangerous  broils, 

But  (even  through  envy)  as  they  had  ordain'd. 

That  he  might  triumph  so  of  all  my  toils, 

And  rob  the  glory  which  I  dearly  gain'd; 

With  such  indignity  who  could  comport, 

When  prizing  honour  dearer  then  the  light? 

No  (whil'st  my  soule  rests  soveraigne  of  this  fort) 

None  shall  have  pow'r  to  rob  me  of  my  right : 

And  yet  by  love  who  all  the  world  commands. 

To  use  such  violence  I  did  mislike : 

And  would  have  oft  abandon'd  all  my  bands, 

If  that  mine  enemies  would  have  done  the  like ; 

But  yet  the  multitude,  which  floting  still 

(As  waves  with  windes)  are  carried  with  conceits, 

With  nought  but  my  disgrace  would  bound  their  will, 

And  I  committed  all  unto  the  fates. 

Yet  when  at  Rubicon  I  stood  perplex'd. 

And  weigh'd  the  horrour  of  my  high  attempt, 

My  stormy  soule  a  thousand  fancies  vex'd. 

Which  resolution  buried  in  contempt. 

Ant.  "  Nought  in  a  captaine  more  confounds  his  foes, 
"  Then  of  a  ventrous  course,  the  swift  effects, 
"  Since  (so   quite    crush'd)  ere   they   their   thoughts 

dispose, 
"  All  good  advice  a  care  confus'd  neglects." 
Though  when  you  march' d  to  Rome,  your  pow'r  was 

small, 


230  Stirling's  Poems. 

The  sudden  news  so  thundred  in  each  eare, 

That  (as  if  heaven  had  fahie  upon  them  all) 

It  bred  amazement,  and  th'  amazement  feare. 

"  Some  secret  destiny  (as  then  was  scene), 

"  Doth   guide    mens   actions,    and    their    judgement 

bounds : 
"  Those  who  by  hosts  could  not  have  frighted  beene, 
"  A  shadow,  or  a  rumour  oft  confounds : 
"  A\\  hastie  dangers  so  surprise  the  minde, 
"  That  feare  prevents  the  resolutions  power, 
"  Or  else  the  fates  make  curious  reason  blinde, 
"  When  heavens  determin'd  have  a  fatall  houre." 
Great  Pompey  (loe)  who  was  growne  ag'd  in  armes. 
And  had  triumph'd  o're  all  the  worlds  three  parts, 
Whir  St  (quite  discourag'd,  by  imagin'd  harmes) 
Fled  Rome,  though  without  reach  of  th'  enemies  darts. 
As  to  a  torrent  all  gave  place  to  you, 
And  whom  they  call'd  a  rebell  made  their  lord ; 
Your  successour  Domitiiis  (forc'd  to  bow) 
Did  trust  your  favour,  more  then  feare  your  sword. 
When  in  th'  Iberian  bounds  you  did  arrive, 
There,  adversaries  (who  did  vainly  vaunt) 
Had  all  th'  advantage  that  the  ground  could  give, 
Of  victuals  plenty,  which  with  us  were  scant. 
Yet  the  celerity  that  you  had  us'd, 
Did  so  discourage  their  disordred  band. 
That  (as  love  in  their  breasts  had  feare  infus'd) 
They  had  no  strength  against  our  strokes  to  stand. 
And  when  Romes  generall  with  brave  legions  stor'd, 
Seem'd  to  possesse  all  that  his  soule  requir'd, 
Whil'st  us  to  daunt,  both  famine  and  the  sword. 


The  Tragedy  of  yuUus  Ccesar.  231 

The  sea,  the  land,  and  all  in  one  conspir'd ; 

Then,  for  your  offices  they  did  contend, 

As  those  who  of  the  victory  were  sure, 

And  (where  they  might  th'  affaires  of  state  attend) 

In  Rome  for  lodgings  fondly  did  procure. 

Yet  memorable  now  that  day  remaines. 

When  all  the  world  was  in  two  armies  rang'd, 

Whil'st   Mars   went    raging    through   th'  .-Emathian 

plaines. 
And  to  despaires  high  expectations  chang'd : 
When  Pompeys  partie  had  the  battell  lost ; 
(As  lyons  do  their  prey)  you  did  pursue 
The  scattred  remnant  of  that  ruin'd  host. 
On  which  new  heads  still  (like  a  Hydra)  grew. 
Though  victory  in  Africke  fatall  seem'd 
To  any  army  that  a  Scipio  led, 
Yet,  you  shew'd  there  (for  worth  in  warre  esteeni'd) 
That  Rome  a  better  then  a  Scipio  bred ; 
And  all  our  enemies  were  confounded  thus, 
Who  us  in  number  ever  did  surmount; 
But  Ciisar  and  his  fortune  were  with  us, 
Which  we  did  more  then  many  thousands  count. 
CcEs.  The   sweetest   comfort  which   my  conquests 
gave. 
Was  that  I  so  might  do  to  many  good : 
For,  every  day  some  Romanes  life  I  save. 
Who  in  the  iield  to  fight  against  me  stood. 
Thus,  may  my  minde  be  judg'd  by  the  event, 
Who  (even  when  by  my  greatest  foes  assail'd) 
To  winne  the  battell  never  was  more  bent, 
Then  prompt  to  pardon  when  I  had  prevail'd. 


232  Stirihig^s  Poems. 

Not  covetous  of  bloud,  of  spoyls,  nor  harmes, 

I  (even  when  victor)  did  insult  o're  none, 

But  layd  aside  all  hatred  with  my  armes, 

A  foe  in  fight,  a  friend  when  it  was  gone : 

"  Of  clemency  I  like  the  praise,  more  then 

"  Of  force,  which  mortals  with  affliction  lodes; 

"  Strength  oft  may  prove  the  worst  thing  that 's  in 

men, 
"  And  pity  is  the  best  thing  in  the  gods." 
Sterne  Cato  (still  affecting  to  be  free) 
Who  either  death  or  life  (if  given)  disdain'd, 
Thy  death  I  envy,  who  didst  envy  me, 
The  glory  that  I  (saving  thee)  had  gain'd. 
Yet  I  to  rents  and  dignities  restore. 
Even  those  who  long  my  ruine  had  design'd : 
And  O !  it  doth  delight  my  minde  farre  more, 
By  benefits,  then  by  constraint  to  binde. 

Ant.  I  would  have   all  my  foes  brouglit  to  their 
ends, 

CcBs.  I  rather  have  my  foes  all  made  my  friends. 

Ant.  Their  bloud  whom  I  suspect'd  should  quench 
all  strife. 

CcBS.  So  might  one  do  who  lik'd  of  nought  but  life. 

Ant.  Still   life   would   be   redeem' d   from   dangers 
forth. 

CcBs.  Not  with  a  ransome  then  it  selfe  more  worth. 

Ajit.  Then   life   to   man,  what   thing   more  deare 
succeeds? 

CcBS.  The  great  contentment  that  true  glory  breeds. 

Ant.  Men  by  all  meanes  this  blast  of  breath  pro- 
long, 


The  Tragedy  of  'y id  ins  Ccesar.  233 

C(Bs.  Men  should  strive  to  live  well,  not  to  live 
long, 
And  I  would  spend  this  momentary  breath 
To  live  by  fame  for  ever  after  death : 
For,  I  aspire  in  spight  of  fates  to  live. 

Atit.  I  feare  that  some  too  soone  your  death  con- 
trive. 

Cces.  Who  dare  but  lodge   such    thoughts   within 
their  mindes? 

Ant.  Those  whom  the  shadow  of  your  greatnesse 
blindes. 

Cces.  The  best  are  bound  to  me  by  gifts  in  store. 

Ant.  But  to  their  countrey  they   are   bound  farre 
more. 

Cces.  Then  loath  they  me  as  th'  enemy  of  the  state? 

Ant.  Who  freedome  love,  you  (as  usurper)  hate. 

C(zs.  I  by  great  battells  have  enlarg'd  their  bounds. 

Ant.  By  that   they   thinke   your   pow'r  too    much 
abounds. 

Cces.  From  doing  wrong,  yet  I  refraine  my  will. 

Ant.  They  feare  your  pow'r,  because  it  may  do  ill. 

C(zs.  The  present  state  still  miscontentment  brings 
To  factious  mindes  affecting  matters  strange. 
Which  (burdens  to  themselves)  do  loath  all  things. 
And  so  they  change,  regard  not  what  they  change. 
In  populous  townes  where  many  do  repaire, 
(Who  at  their  meeting  what  they  please  do  touch) 
They  further  then  their  bounds  extend  their  care : 
"  The  idle  who  do  nothing,  must  thinke  much." 
Loe,  Rome  (though  wasted  all  with  raging  warres) 
Whil'st  private  grudge  pretended  publike  good. 


234  Stirling's  Poems. 

Equality  (still  rude)  engendring  jarres, 

Did  prove  too  prodigall  of  Roman  bloud. 

Though  yet  now  at  the  last  attaining  rest, 

Whil'st  all  (obeying  one)  may  banish  teares : 

It  (if  constrain'd)  even  scorns  (as  bad)  the  best, 

This  word  necessity  so  wounds  the  eares. 

The  insolent  with  vile  seditious  words, 

(Who  trembled  whil'st  they  heard  the  trumpets  sound) 

Stirre  now  their  tongues,  as  we  did  then  our  swords, 

And  what  Mars  spar'd,  make  Mercury  confound. 

"  The  people  thus  in  time  of  peace  agree 

"  To  curbe  the  great  men  still,  even  in  that  forme, 

"  As  in  calme  dayes  they  do  disbranch  the  tree, 

"Which  shrowded  them  of  late  against  a  storme." 

But  now  I  look'd  (brave  deeds  appeasing  spight) 

That  bursted  envy  should  for  anguish  dye, 

Darke  shadows  (as  asham'd)  do  vanish  quite, 

AVhen  at  his  height  bright  Phoebus  cleares  the  skie. 

And  though  their  hatred  deeply  they  disguise, 

Yet  can  they  not  so  hide  enflam'd  desires, 

But  that  their  spight  rests  sparkling  through  their  eyes, 

And  boasts  to  burst  out  straight  in  open  fires. 

Ant.  Since  first  (great  Casar)  I  discern'd  thy  worth. 
On  all  thy  actions  I  did  still  attend ; 
And  what  some  whisper  must  speake  freely  forth : 
"  Franke  admonitions  do  become  a  friend." 
The  men  who  do  suspect  that  you  aspire 
Of  government  the  present  forme  to  change, 
All  in  their  soules  your  ruine  do  conspire, 
And  their  affections  farre  from  you  estrange. 
Since  chast  Lucretia  (by  proud  Tarquin  stain' d) 


The  Tragedy  of  yuliiis  Ccesar.  235 

Wash'd  with  her  bloud  the  violated  bed, 
Whir  St  by  his  pow'r  Eoi/ie  basely  was  constrain'd, 
All  to  obey  which  his  curst  braine  had  bred. 
This  government  which  some  tyrannicke  call, 
Doth  sound  so  odious  in  the  peoples  eares. 
That  they  as  tyrants  vile,  detest  them  all, 
Whose  greatnesse  gives  them  any  cause  of  feares. 

Cces.  I  not  affect  the  title  of  a  king 
For  love  of  glory  or  desire  of  gaine, 
Nor  for  respect  of  any  private  thing, 
But  that  the  state  may  by  my  travels  gaine. 
You  know  Sibylla's  books  which  never  faile. 
In  many  mindes  have  an  opinion  bred, 
That  o're  the  Parihians  Rome  cannot  prevaile, 
Till  by  a  prince  her  valorous  bands  be  led : 
"  For  as  confusion  is  the  fruit  (we  finde) 
"  Of  those  affaires  which  divers  thoughts  dispose, 
"  So  soveraignty  match'd  with  a  gallant  minde, 
"  Breeds  reverence  in  ones  owne,  feare  to  his  foes." 
And  O  !  it  grieves  me,  that  these  steps  of  ours 
Have  trod  so  oft  on  many  a  millions  necks, 
Whil'st  yet  the  Parthian  villipends  our  pow'rs. 
And  all  our  victories  (not  vanquish'd)  checks; 
Ah !  should  a  generall  of  the  Roman  race 
Be  by  barbarians  kill'dl  and  not  reveng'd? 
And  should  his  ensignes,  signes  of  our  disgrace, 
Rest  in  the  ranke  of  conquer'd  relicts  rang'd? 
No,  no,  (wretch' d  Crass  us)  now  thy  selfe  content, 
He  pacific  thy  ghost  with  Parihians  spoyles. 
My  boyling  fancies  have  beene  alwayes  bent 
To  match  the  matchlesse,  daunt  th'  undaunted  soiles. 


236  Stirlitig's  Poems. 

Ant.  With  victories  quite  cloi'd,  will  you  not  then 
Your  safety  once,  more  then  new  warres  respect? 

CcBs.  No,  though  I  have  surmounted  other  men, 
My  fancies  yet  do  greater  things  affect : 
In  emulation  of  my  selfe  at  last, 
I  even  with  envy  look  on  my  owne  deeds; 
And  (bent  to  make  the  new  surpasse  things  past) 
Now  to  my  minde  stale  praise  no  pleasure  breeds. 

Ant.  The  world  hath  scene  thee  (great  man)  for 
Romes  good. 
In  danger  oft  of  many  a  dangerous  shelfe, 
Whil'st  for  her  glory  thou  engag'd  thy  bloud. 
Of  others  carefuU,  carelesse  of  thy  selfe. 

C(zs.  Though  whil'st  in  th'  Aprill  of  my  blooming 
age, 
I  from  the  vulgar  rate  redeem'd  my  name. 
Some  with  my  deeds  did  burden  youths  hot  rage, 
And  an  ambitious  appetite  of  fame. 
Yet  since  the  coldnesse  of  declining  yeares, 
Boasts  to  congeale  the  bloud  which  boil'd  of  late, 
Whil'st  loe,  my  life  the  sunne  of  glory  cleares, 
Who  now  of  all  the  world  am  knowne  most  great ; 
I  cannot  covet  that  thing  which  I  have, 
I  have  all  honour  that  can  be  requir'd : 
And  now  (as  that  which  wants)  would  onely  crave 
To  taste  the  pleasures  of  a  life  retyr'd : 
But  (save  to  serve  the  state)  for  nought  I  strive, 
For,  O!  (neglecting  th' ecchoes  of  renowne) 
I  could  content  my  selfe  unknowhe  to  live 
A  private  man,  with  2.  plebeian  gowne: 
Since  (Antho7iie)  thus  for  the  state  I  care, 


The- Iragedy  of  y^ulius  Cccsar.  237 

And  all  delights  which  nature  loves  disdaine. 

Go,  and  in  time  the  peoples  mindes  prepare, 

That  as  the  rest,  I  may  the  title  gaine; 

Yet  indirectly  at  the  first  assay 

To  what  their  doubtful!  mindes  do  most  incline, 

But  as  without  my  knowledge,  that  they  may 

All  marke  your  minde,  and  yet  not  thinke  of  mine. 

\_Exeuni. 


ACT   II.       SCENE    II. 

Cicero^  Decius,  Brtdus. 

Cic.  Did  I  survive  th'  impetuous  Sci/Ms  rage, 
And  in  a  torrent  of  destruction  stood, 
Whil'st  tyrants  did  make  Rome  a  tragicke  stage 
Through  a  voluptuous  appetite  of  bloud? 
Scap'd  I  confusion  in  a  time  so  bad. 
Of  liberty  and  honour  once  to  taste, 
That  bondage  now  might  make  my  soule  more  sad 
By  the  remembrance  of  my  fortunes  past*? 
What  though  I  once  (when  first  by  fame  made  knowne) 
From  Catilines  strange  treason  did  preserve 
This  towne  (when  free  from  foes)  thrall'd  by  her  owne, 
Since  now  the  world  from  equity  doth  swerve? 
A  sparke  of  that  conspiracy  I  spie 
As  yet  not  quench'd  to  have  our  state  imbroil'd. 
Which  Rome  to  burne  makes  many  flames  to  flie : 
Thus  one  was  spar'd,  that  we  might  all  be  spoil'd. 
O  worthy  Cato,  in  whose  matchlesse  minde 
Three  (rarely  match' d)  things  nature  did  reveale, 


238  Stirling's  Poejns. 

Wit,  honesty,  and  courage,  which  design'd 
A  citizen  for  Plato's  common-weale  : 
Whir  St  courteous  Pompey  did  things  as  a  friend, 
Thou  as  a  wise-man  spoke,  and  still  fore-told 
To  what  all  Ccesars  deeds  would  turne  in  th'  end, 
If  that  his  pride  were  not  in  time  controld. 
And  had  we  him  (as  wisely  thou  advis'd) 
Given  to  the  Gennans  whom  he  had  injur'd. 
We  had  not  now  beene  thus  like  slaves  despis'd, 
To  see  Rome's  glory,  and  our  owne  obscur'd: 
But  yet  I  may  (disbending  former  cares) 
A  space  comport  with  that  proud  tyrants  pow'r; 
Age  gives  assurance  by  my  hoarey  haires, 
Ere  he  Ponies  freedome,  death  will  me  devour. 
But  all  whose  youth  and  sprite  might  have  attain'd 
Those  dignities  which  Ccesar  hath  undone: 
O !  ye  have  lost  as  much  as  he  hath  gain'd, 
Whose  rising  hopes  must  be  retrench' d  so  soone. 

Dec.  Though  innovations  at  the  first  seeme  strange, 
Yet  oft  experience  approbation  brings, 
And  if  with  upright  thoughts  we  weigh  this  change. 
From  thence  the  safety  of  our  city  springs ; 
As  doth  a  ship,  when  toss'd  by  several  windes, 
More  danger  runne  whil'st  pylots  do  contest, 
So  was  our  city  vex'd  by  differing  mindes, 
Who  did  interpret  laws  as  pleas'd  them  best; 
Whil'st  for  one  sicknesse  divers  drugges  are  us'd, 
Whose  pow'rs  (repugnant)  in  digestion  jarre; 
Th'  impatient  patients  perish,  when  abus'd, 
So  did  we  long  whil'st  cross'd  by  civill  warre; 
But  now  great  Ccesar  from  tempestuous  windes, 


The  Tragedy  of  y^ulius  Casar.  239 

Romes  scattered  mines  recollects  of  late  : 
A  pilot  meet  to  calm  tumultuous  mindes, 
A  fit  physitian  for  an  aguish  state. 

Cic.  The  state  from   stormes  secure  by  drowning 
proves, 
Now  whil'st  despaire  doth  doubtfull  feares  appease, 
He  (with  the  life)  the  sicknesse  quite  removes : 
Thus  is  the  physick  worse  then  the  disease. 
This  common  weale  (as  all  the  world  did  spie) 
Was  by  proud  spirits  in  civill  warres  involv'd, 
Yet  like  black  clouds  which  would  obscure  the  skie. 
These  tumid  humours  suddenly  dissolv'd ; 
And  no  disgrace  unto  the  state  redounds, 
But  to  th'  ambitious  men  that  it  abus'd, 
Who  (had  their  pow'r  like  Ccesars  wanted  bounds) 
Would  (whil'st  they  rul'd)  have  greater  rigour  us'd. 
All  parts  (we  see)  bred  people  of  all  kindes, 
And  a"s  advanc'd  some  bad  men  did  abide, 
In  pow'r  their  equals,  and  of  better  mindes, 
Some  alwayes  vertuous  were  to  curb  their  pride : 
But  since  that  sacred  liberty  was  lost, 
The  publike  pow'r  to  private  ends  one  turnes ; 
And  (as  his  lawlesse  wayes  did  alwayes  boast) 
The  common-weale  by  violence  o're-tumes. 

Dec.  Though  what  you  burden  Ciesar  with  were  true, 
Necessity  hath  purg'd  his  part  from  crime, 
Who  was  (foes  force  to  shunne)  forc'd  to  pursue, 
And  urg'd  by  danger  to  attempt  in  time. 
To  th'  enemies  envy  more  oblig'd  he  rests. 
Then  to  his  wit  which  no  such  courses  scan'd : 
For  when  quite  barr'd  from  using  of  requests. 


240  Stirling's  Poems. 

Th'  occasion  then  invited  to  command. 

His   thoughts  when  cahiie,  to  storm  fond  foes  did 

tempt : 
"  True  worth  disdaines  to  suffer  open  wrong: 
"  A  gallant  courage  kindled  by  contempt 
"  Burns  with  revenge,  whil'st  fury  makes  one  strong." 

Cic.  O  Dcci7/s,  now  a  wrong  account  you  cast. 
The  purpose,  not  th'  event,  declares  the  minde : 
Tread  backe  the  steps  of  all  his  actions  past, 
And  what  he  compass'd  had  beene  long  design'd. 
As  by  some  sprite  inspir'd,  proud  Scilla  said, 
That  there  in  Ccesar  many  Marians  were. 
And  Rome  in  time  was  warn'd  to  be  afraid 
Of  that  evill-girded  youth,  with  smooth-comb'd  haire ; 
Then  when  (as  still  to  quietnesse  a  foe) 
The  memory  of  Marius  he  renew'd. 
By  re-erecting  tyrants  statues  so, 
His  thoughts  all  bent  to  tyranny  were  view'd. 
That  people-pleaser  might  have  beene  perceiv'd. 
By  courteous  complements  below  his  rank. 
Who  (lavishing  forth  gifts)  the  world  deceiv'd. 
And  to  gaine  more  then  his,  of  his  prov'd  franke. 
Though  nought  at  all  indulgent  to  his  wife, 
By  prostrated  pudicity  disgrac'd ; 
Yet  did  he  save  th'  adultrous  Clodius  life, 
To  sooth  the  multitude,  whose  steps  he  trac'd. 

Dec.  "  These  be  the  meanes  by  which   ambition 
mounts, 
"  Without  most  humble,  when  within  most  high, 
"  As  if  it  fled  from  that  thing  which  it  hunts, 
"  Still  wasting  most,  when  it  for  most  doth  plie." 


The  Tragedy  of  Julius  Ccvsar.  241 

Cic.  Then  he  (still  tyranny  bent  to  embrace) 
Was  thought  conjoin'd  with  Catiline  to  be, 
And,  had  wise  Catds  counsell  taken  place, 
Might  with  the  rest  have  sufifered  death  by  me. 
Yet  having  deeply  div'd  in  some  mens  soules, 
With  factious  followers  being  pined  oft, 
He  got  the  consulship  which  nought  controuls, 
And  matching  pride  with  pow'r,  did  look  aloft; 
To  flatter  them  who  now  must  flatter  him, 
His  pow'r  to  make  unlawful!  laws  prevail'd. 
And  those  to  crosse  who  scorn'd  he  so  should  clime, 
He  furnish't  was  with  force,  where  reason  fail'd : 
But  yet  because  he  could  not  be  assur'd, 
To  rule  alone  according  to  his  will, 
To  governe  France,  he  craftily  procur'd, 
So  to  be  strengthened  with  an  army  still. 
As  Rome  first  warr'd  at  home,  till  being  strong, 
She  thought  her  power  might  forraine  realmes  o're- 

come. 
So  Ccesar  warr'd  against  strange  nations  long, 
Till  that  he  thought  his  might  might  conquer  Rome. 
Then  having  all  that  force  or  fate  assignes, 
Of  discontentment  he  did  cause  pretend. 
So  to  dissemble  fore-conceiv'd  designes : 
"  One  soone  may  finde  a  fault  that  would  offend : " 
But  when  he  first  in  a  prodigious  dreame. 
His  mother  seem'd  incestuously  to  use, 
It  might  have  shown  to  his  eternall  shame. 
How  of  his  birth  the  bounds  he  did  abuse. 

Dec.  And  yet  I  thinke  (avoyding  threatned  harmes) 
He  by  constraint  imbark'd  in  civill  broyles : 

VOL.    II.  R 


242  Stirling'' s  Poems. 

Did  he  not  covenant  to  quite  his  armes, 
As  not  desirous  of  his  countries  spoiles? 

Cic.  Durst  he  with  those  who  had  his  charge  con- 
fin' d, 
Stand  to  capitulate,  as  if  their  mate, 
Where  (as  his  soveraigne)  to  obey  their  minde, 
It  was  his  duty,  and  their  due  of  late. 
What?  whaf?  durst  he  whom  (bound  to  keep  the  law) 
The  people  in  authority  did  put 
The  sword  which  they  had  given,  against  them  draw; 
When  it  was  sharpned  first  their  throat  to  cut? 
That  had  not  come  which  all  our  anguish  breeds. 
If  he  unforc'd  when  as  his  charge  expir'd; 
Till  that  the  senate  censur'd  had  his  deeds, 
Had  from  his  province  peaceably  retir'd. 
No,  he  hath  but  betray'd  his  native  towne, 
Those  bands,  by  which  she  did  him  first  preferre, 
T'  enlarge  her  borders,  and  his  owne  renowne 
Those  hath  he  us'd  to  tyrannize  o're  her. 
My  passions  (ah !  transported  as  you  see 
With  an  excessive  love  to  my  deare  soile) 
Of  my  hearts  store  have  made  my  tongue  too  free, 
By  flaming  forth  what  in  my  brest  doth  boile. 

Dec.  That  Ccesars  part  might  justly  be  excus'd, 
Loe,  with  the  cause  alledg'd,  his  course  accords. 
Of  which  that  mildenesse  which  he  since  hath  us'd, 
A  testimony  to  the  world  affords. 
Though  forc'd  to  fight,  he  alwaies  had  great  care 
To  save  our  citizens  as  each  man  knowes, 
And  will'd  his  captaines  Romanes  still  to  spare; 
Barbarians  bodies  objects  were  for  blowes. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^idius  Ccesar.  243 

Of  th'  adversaries  after  bloudy  strife, 

Wlien  oft  he  might  have  made  some  captives  smart, 

Not  onely  was  he  liberall  of  their  Hfe, 

But  pardon'd  them,  even  to  take  Pompeys  part; 

At  that  infortunate  Pharsalian  field, 

When  he  securely  might  have  us'd  the  sword, 

He  both  did  spare  all  th'  enemies  that  would  yeeld, 

And  them  to  rents  and  dignities  restor'd  : 

Then  when  th'  Egyptians  (so  to  get  reliefe) 

Brought  to  his  sight  pale  Pompeys  bloudlesse  head, 

He  testifi'd  with  teares  his  inward  griefe, 

And  grac'd  his  statues  after  he  was  dead. 

Those  his  proceedings  plainely  may  approve, 

That  he  against  his  will  did  make  this  warre; 

And  to  his  country  beares  a  tender  love, 

Who  could  comport  to  reyne  his  rage  so  farre. 

Cic.  Those   favours   fain'd,    by   him    bestow'd,    or 
due, 
(As  is  ones  custome  whose  high  heart  aspires,) 
Were  spent  on  many  that  who  them  did  view 
Might  love  his  course,  so  kindling  their  desires : 
But  where  he  thus  pleas'd  some,  he  spoil'd  whole 

hosts. 
And  the  barbarians  all  to  Rome  not  wrousrht 
Such  harme  as  he,  who,  of  his  goodnesse  boasts, 
Yet  her  best  men  hath  to  confusion  brought ; 
That  great  man,  whom  earst  fortune  ne're  did  fayle, 
Who  still  prevail' d,  though  warring  without  right. 
Now  in  a  good  cause,  for  the  common-weale 
With  C(2sar  did  infortunately  fight. 
Whilst  fled  from  Lesbos  with  his  wretched  wife, 


244  Stirling's  Poems. 

Three  base-borne  groomes   (can   fortune  change   so 

sooneO 
Stood  to  consult  upon  great  Pompeys  life, 
And  did  what  thousands  durst  not  once  have  done; 
Then  he  whose  knees  had  oft  been  kiss'd  by  kings, 
(Most  highly  happy,  had  he  dy'd  in  time) 
By  one  of  his  owne  slaves,  with  abject  things 
His  funerals  had  perform'd;  what  monstrous  crime 
Romes  greatest  captaine  to  entombe  alone? 
The  Roman  who  arriv'd  with  reason  said: 
The  fatall  glory  was  too  great  for  one, 
And  to  have  part  of  that  last  honour  staid; 
The  teares  bestow'd  by  Ccesar  on  his  head, 
Forth  from  a  guilty  minde,  remorse  had  throwne : 
Or  else  he  wept  to  see  his  enemie  dead 
By  any  others  hands  then  by  his  owne. 
That  constant  Cato,  who  even  death  did  scorne, 
And  for  a  coward  once  had  Ccrsar  brav'd, 
(Who  liv'd  as  if  to  grace  all  mortals  borne) 
Would  rather  perish  then  by  him  be  sav'd. 
He  justly  whilst  more  just,  himselfe  more  strong 
Then  Ccssar  thought,  who  for  no  justice  car'd  : 
And  since  discovering  what  he  cloak' d  so  long, 
Said,  that  the  other,  and  not  he  was  snar'd. 
Thus  CcBsar  conquer' d  all  but  Cafos  minde, 
Who  to  a  tyrant  would  not  owe  his  breath : 
But  in  such  sort  his  famous  course  confin'd, 
Then  Ciesars  life,  more  glorious  was  his  death  : 
Those  great  men  thus  brought  to  disastrous  ends, 
The  author  of  their  death  make  me  despise^ 
Who  to  usurpe  all  pow'r  while  as  he  tends, 


The  Tragedy  of  yiilms  Ccesar.  245 

By  treading  good  men  downe,  doth  strive  to  rise. 
Now  made  most  great  by  lessening  all  the  great, 
He  proudly  doth  triumph  in  Rome,  o're  Rome: 
And  we  must  seeme  to  like  the  present  state, 
Whose  doubtfull  breath  depends  upon  his  doome. 
Yet  had  I  not  enlarg'd  my  griefes  so  long. 
To  you  whom  Ccesar  doth  pretend  to  love ; 
Save  that  (I  know)  touch'd  with  the  common  wrong : 
"  A  just  disdaine  all  generous  mindes  must  move." 

Dec.  Had  Ccesar  willingly  resign'd  his  armes, 
And  rendered  Rome  her  liberty  at  last, 
When  as  from  foes  he  fear'd  no  further  harmes. 
But  had  repair'd  his  just  displeasures  past. 
More  then  for  all  that  could  be  done  for  me, 
He  should  have  had  an  altar  in  my  brest, 
As  worthy  (for  his  vertuous  deeds)  to  be 
Fear'd  by  the  bad,  and  honour'd  by  the  best: 
But  since  (though  conqu'ring  all  the  world  by  might) 
He  (to  himselfe  a  slave)  would  make  Rome  thrall. 
His  benefits  are  loathsome  in  my  sight, 
And  I  am  griev'd  that  he  deserves  to  fall; 
My  fancies  move  not  in  so  low  a  sphere, 
But  I  disdaine  that  one  Romes  crowne  requires; 
Yet  it  is  best  that  with  the  time  we  beare. 
And  with  our  pow'r  proportion  our  desires. 
Though  first  dissembling,  so  your  minde  to  try, 
I  told  what  fame  to  Ccesars  praise  relates; 
Yet  was  I  pleas'd,  that  moe  were  griev'd  then  I : 
"  All  miscontented  men  are  glad  of  mates." 

Cic.  Since  tyranny  all  liberty  exiles. 
We  must  our  selves  (no  more  our  selves)  disguise; 


246  Stirling's  Poems. 

Then,  learn  to  maske  a  mourning  minde  with  smiles, 

And  seeme  to  like  that  which  we  most  despise. 

Yet  all  our  deeds  not  Ccvsars  humour  please. 

Who  (since  mistrusting  once)  esteemes  us  still, 

When  dumb  disdainefull,  flatterers  when  we  praise, 

If  plaine,  presumptuous,  and  in  all  things  ill : 

Yea,  we,  whose  freedome  Ccesar  now  restraines, 

As  his  attenders  all  his  stepes  piust  trace; 

And  know,  yet  not  acknowledge  his  disdaines, 

But  still  pretend  an  interest  in  his  grace : 

Though  all  my  thoughts  detest  him  as  a  foe. 

To  honour  him,  a  thousand  meanes  I  move. 

Yet  but  to  save  my  selfe,  and  plague  him  so : 

"  No  hate  more  harmes  then  it  that  lookes  like  love." 

His  pride  is  by  prepost'rous  state  growne  such, 

That  by  the  better  sort,  he  is  abhorr'd; 

The  gods  are  jealous,  and  men  envy  much 

To  see  a  mortall  man  so  much  ador'd. 

Dec.  Well,  Cicero  let  all  meanes  be  entertain'd, 
That  may  embarke  us  in  his  bosomes  deepes, 
Till  either  willingly,  or  then  constrain'd, 
He  justly  quite  what  he  unjustly  keepes.  \_Excu7it. 

CHORUS. 

"  This  life  of  ours  is  like  a  rose, 

"  Which  whilst  rare  beauties  it  array, 

"  Doth  then  enjoy  the. least  repose; 

"  When  virgin-like  made  blush  (we  see) 

"  Of  every  hand  it  is  the  prey, 

"  And  by  each  winde  is  blowne  away; 


The  Tragedy  of  'J^ulius  Cccsar.  247 

"  Yea,  though  from  violence  scap'd  free, 

"  (Thus  time  triumphs,  and  leades  all  thrals) 

"  Yet  doth  it  languish  and  decay : 

"  O !  whilst  the  courage  hottest  boiles, 

"  And  that  our  life  seemes  best  to  be, 

"  It  is  with  dangers  corapast  still ; 

"  Whilst  it  each  little  change  appalles, 

"  The  body,  force,  without  oft  foiles, 

"  It  th'  owne  distemp'rature  oft  spoiles, 

"And  even,  though  none  it  chance  to  kill, 

"As  nature  failes,  the  body  falles, 

"  Of  which  save  death,  nought  bounds  the  toyles  : 

"  What  is  this  moving  tow'r  in  which  we  trusts 

"  A  little  Avinde  clos'd  in  a  cloud  of  dust." 

And  yet  some  sprites  though  being  pent 

In  this  fraile  prisons  narrow  bounds, 

(Whilst  what  might  serve,  dotli  not  content,) 

Doe  alwaies  bend  their  thoughts  too  high, 

And  ayme  at  all  the  peopled  grounds ; 

Then  whilst  their  brests  ambition  wounds, 

They  feed  as  fearing  straight  to  dye, 

Yet  build  as  if  they  still  might  live, 

Whilst  famish'd  for  fames  empty  sounds : 

Of  such  no  end  the  travell  ends, 

But  a  beginning  gives,  whereby 

They  may  be  vex'd  worse  then  before ; 

For,  whilst  they  still  new  hopes  contrive, 

"  The  hoped  good  more  anguish  sends, 

"Then  the  possess'd  contentment  lends;" 

As  beasts  not  taste,  but  doe  devoure. 

They  swallow  much,  and  for  more  strive. 


!48  Stirling's  Poems. 

Whilst  still  their  hope  some  change  attends : 

"  And  how  can  such  but  still  themselves  annoy, 

"  Who  can  acquire,  but  know  not  how  t'  enjoy?" 

Since  as  a  ship  amidst  the  deepes, 

Or  as  an  eagle  through  the  ayre. 

Of  which  no  waye  th'  impression  keepes, 

Most  swift  when  seeming  least  to  move: 

This  breath  of  which  we  take  such  care, 

Doth  tosse  the  body  every  where, 

That  it  may  hence  with  haste  remove : 

"  Life  slips  and  sleepes  alwayes  away, 

"  Then  hence,  and  as  it  came,  goes  bare," 

Whose  steppes  behinde  no  trace  do  leave; 

Why  should  heaven-banish'd  soules  thus  love. 

The  cause,  and  bounds  of  their  exile, 

As  restlesse  strangers  where  they  stray? 

And  Avith  such  paine  why  should  they  reave, 

That  which  they  have  no  right  to  have, 

Which  with  them  in  a  little  while. 

As  summers  beauties  must  decay. 

And  can  give  nought  except  the  grave? 

"Though  all  things  doe  to  harme  him  what  they 

can, 
"  No  greater  enemie  then  himselfe  to  man ; 
Whilst  oft  environ'd  with  his  foes, 
Which  threatned  death  on  every  side, 
Great  Cccsar  parted  from  repose, 
(As  Atlas  holding  up  the  starres) 
Did  of  a  world  the  weight  abide ; 
But  since  a  prey  to  foolish  pride, 
More  then  by  all  the  former  warres. 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  Ccesar.  249 

He  now  by  it  doth  harm'd  remaine, 

And  of  his  fortune  doth  diffide: 

Made  rich  by  many  nations  wreake, 

He  (breaking  through  the  hquid  barres) 

In  Neptioies  armes  his  minion  forc'd; 

Yet  still  pursu'd  new  hopes  in  vaine : 

"  Would  the  ambitious  looking  backe 

"  Of  their  inferiors  knowledge  take, 

"  They  from  huge  cares  might  be  divorced, 

"  Whilst  viewing  few,  more  pow'r  attaine, 

"  And  many  more  then  they  to  lacke : 

"  The  onely  plague  from  men  that  rest  doth  reave, 

"  Is  that  they  weigh  their  wants,  not  what  they  have." 

Since  thus  the  great  themselves  involve 

In  such  a  labyrinth  of  cares, 

Whence  none  to  scape  can  well  resolve, 

But  by  degrees  are  forward  led, 

Through  waves  of  hopes,  rockes  of  despaires : 

Let  us  avoyd  ambitions  snares. 

And  farre  from  stormes  by  envy  bred. 

Still  seeke  (though  low)  a  quiet  rest, 

With  mindes  where  no  proud  thought  repaires, 

That  in  vaine  shadowes  doth  delight; 

Thus  may  our  fancies  still  be  fed 

With  that  which  nature  freely  gives; 

Let  us  iniquity  detest, 

And  hold  but  what  we  owe  of  right ; 

Th'  eyes  treasure  is  th'  all-circling  light. 

Not  that  vaine  pompe  for  which  pride  strives. 

Whose  glory  (but  a  poysnous  pest) 

To  plague  the  soule,  delights  the  sight : 


250  Stirli?ig's  Poems. 

"  Ease  comes  with  ease,  where  all  by  paine  buy  paine, 
"  Rest  we  in  peace,  by  warre  let  others  raigne." 


ACT   III.       SCENE    I. 

Caius  Cassius,  Marcus  Brutus. 

Cass.  Now  [Briitns)  now  we  need  no  more  to  doubt. 
Nor  with  blinde  hopes  our  judgement  to  suspend, 
That  flatt'rers  credit  (loe)  is  quite  worne  out ; 
We  must  in  time  attempt,  and  not  attend : 
That  race  of  victors  which  did  realmes  appall,* 
Ah  (vanquish'd  by  their  victories  at  last) 
Are  by  their  too  much  liberty  made  thrall, 
Since  all  their  strength  but  down  themselves  doth  cast; 
And  we  who  by  our  birth  aym'd  at  great  things, 
Of  the  worlds  mistresse  mighty  minions  once, 
Who  might  have  labour'd  to  give  lawes  to  kings, 
Lawes  from  a  king,  must  looke  for  now  with  grones : 
For,  such  of  Ccesar  is  the  monstrous  pride, 
That  though  he  domineers  even  at  this  houre, 
And  to  his  cUents  kingdomes.  doth  divide 
With  an  unlimited  tyrannicke  pow'r; 
Yet  of  dictator  he  disdaines  the  name, 
And  seekes  a  tyrants  title  with  the  place, 
Not  for  his  honour,  no,  but  for  our  shame, 
As  onely  bent  to  bragge  of  our  disgrace. 

Brut.  I  thought  to  see  that  man  (as  others  are) 
Walke  re-apparell'd  with  a  private  gowne, 
As  one  who  had  unwillingly  made  warre, 

*  "  Th'  imperious  people  that  did  th'  earth  appall.'"— 1604. 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  Ccesar.  251 

To  stand  himselfe,  not  to  cast  others  downe : 

So  Silla  (though  more  inhumane  then  he) 

Whilst  having  all  to  what  his  heart  aspir'd, 

The  soveraignty  resign'd,  and  set  Rome  free, 

When  expectations  date  was  quite  expir'd. 

By  CcBsars  worth  we  must  thinke  that  he  too, 

Will  render  freedome  to  this  captiv'd  state, 

When  first  the  world  hath  view'd  what  he  might  doe. 

His  thoughts  are  generous,  as  his  minde  is  great. 

Though  insolencies  oft  from  courage  flow, 

His  dying  fury  sparkles  but  a  space : 

"High   thoughts   which   Mars  inspires,   nought  can 

bring  low, 
"  Till  one  have  us'd  the  purity  of  peace. 
"  Those  who  by  violence  to  all  things  tend, 
"  Scarce  can  themselves  to  quietnesse  conforme ; 
"  Their  stately  carriage,  and  franke  words,  offend, 
"  Whil'st  peace  cannot  comport  with  warres  rude  forme," 
I  hope  that  Casar  setling  civill  broyles, 
When  worne  by  custome  from  intestine  rage. 
Will  strive  to  mitigate  his  countries  toyles. 
And  all  those  flames  which  burn'd  his  brest,  asswage. 
Cass.  Thus,  of  his  course  you  by  your  owne  con- 
ceiv'd, 
As  if  like  thoughts  of  both  did  bound  the  will : 
"  Ah,  honest  mindes  are  with  least  paine  deceiv'd, 
"  Those  who  themselves  are  good,  dreame  not  of  ill. 
"To  sound  of  some  the  still  unsound  device, 
"  Their  inclination  must  your  judgement  sway : 
"  The  square  of  vertue  cannot  measure  vice, 
"  Nor  yet  a  line  when  straight,  a  crooked  way." 


2/^2  Stirlhis^^s  Poems. 


<b 


So  Ccesar  rising  may  usurpe  the  state, 
He  cares  not  by  what  force,  nor  by  what  sleight : 
"  O !  one  may  soone  deceive  men,  and  grow  great, 
"  Who  leaves  religion,  honesty  and  right." 
When  as  the  senators  (no  more  tlieir  owne) 
Came  to  that  tyrant  whom  ambition  bhndes, 
And  by  high  honours  shew'd  how  they  had  showne 
To  gratifie  his  greatnesse,  gratefull  mindes ; 
He  (in  a  chayre  imperiously  plac'd,) 
Not  daign'd  to  rise,  nor  bow  in  any  sort, 
As  both  of  them  had  but  their  due  embrac'd, 
When  he  a  haughty,  they  a  humble  port. 
But  if  he  thus,  ere  we  be  thoroughly  thrall'd. 
Dare  so  disdainefuUy  such  great  men  use, 
When  in  a  regall  throne  by  us  enstall'd. 
Then  will  he  breake  that  which  he  now  doth  bruise. 
Was  he  not  first  who  ever  yet  began 
To  violate  the  sacred  tribunes  place. 
And  punish'd  them  for  punishing  a  man 
Who  had  transgress'd  the  lawes  in  time  of  peace? 
The  lawes  which  doe  of  death  all  guilty  hold. 
Whose  actions  seeme  to  tyranny  inclin'd, 
So  earnest  were  our  ancestors  of  old, 
To  quench  a  tyrants  light  before  it  shin'd : 
And  shall  our  Nephewes  (heires  of  bondage)  blame 
Vs  dastard  parents  who  their  hopes  deceiv'd. 
Who  saw,  who  sufif'red,  who  surviv'd  such  shame. 
Not  leaving  dead,  what  we  when  borne  receiv'd? 
By  Ccesars  friends,  to  an  assembly  brought, 
The  senators  intend  to  call  him  king. 
Brut.  I'le  not  be  there. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^ulius  CcEsar.  253 

Cass.  But  what  if  we  be  sought 
To  ayde  (as  pretors)  such  a  pubhke  thing? 

Bnii.  I  will  resist  that  violent  decree ; 
None  oi Romes  crowne  shall  long  securely  boast: 
For,  ere  that  I  live  thrall'd,  i'le  first  dye  free, 
"  What  can  be  kept  when  liberty  is  losti  " 

Cass,  O !  with  what  joy  I  swallow  up  those  words, 
Words  worthy  of  thy  worth,  and  of  thy  name : 
But  {Brufus)  doe  not  feare,  this  cause  affords 
In  danger  many,  but  few  mates  in  fame ; 
When  Anthony  proud  Casars  image  crown'd, 
By  silent  sorrow  all  the  people  told 
In  what  a  depth  of  woes  their  thoughts  were  drown'd, 
That  bondage-bragging  comet  to  behold. 
What  doe  those  scroules  throwne  in  thy  chaire  import: 
Which,  what  thou  art,  to  brave  thy  courage,  brings? 
Be  those  the  fancies  of  the  vulgar  sort] 
No,  none  but  noble  mindes  dreame  of  great  things? 
Of  other  pretors  people  looke  for  showes, 
And  distributions  whose  remembrance  dyes. 
Whilst  bloudy  fencers  fall  with  mutuall  blowes, 
And  Africkes  monsters  doe  amaze  their  eyes; 
But  from  thy  hands  they  liberty  attend, 
(By  birthright  due)  the  glory  of  thy  race. 
And  bent  for  thee,  their  bloud  will  frankely  spend, 
So  thou  succeed  in  thy  great  parents  place. 
He  {Rome  redeeming)  Tarquin  did  o' rethrow, 
Though  from  his  birth  obey'd,  and  without  strife ; 
A  rising  tyrant  then  bring  boldly  low, 
To  what  extinguish'd  was,  who  would  give  life. 

Brut.  I  weigh  thy  words  with  an  afflicted  heart, 


254  Stirling's  Poems. 

Which  for  compassion  of  my  country  bleeds : 
And  would  to  God  that  I  might  onely  smart, 
So  that  all  others  scap'd  what  mischiefe  breeds ; 
Then,  never  man  himselfe  from  death  did  free, 
With  a  more  quiet  and  contented  minde, 
Then  I  would  perish,  if  I  both  could  be 
To  Ccesar  thankefull,  to  my  country  kinde : 
But  though  that  great  mans  grace  to  me  enlarg'd, 
May  chalenge  right  in  my  affections  store. 
Yet  must  the  greatest  debt  be  first  discharg'd, 
I  owe  him  much,  but  to  my  country  more. 
This  in  my  brest  hath  great  dissension  bred  : 
I  C(Esar  love,  but  yet  Romes  enemy  hate. 
And  as  love  lives,  I  could  be  mov'd  to  shed 
My  bloud  for  Ccesar,  Ccesars  for  the  state. 
I  for  my  fathers  death  loath'd  Pompey  long, 
Whilst  just  disdaine  did  boyle  within  my  brest : 
Yet  when  he  warr'd  to  venge  the  common  wrong, 
I  joyn'd  with  him,  because  his  cause  was  best. 
A  minde  to  raigne  if  Ccesar  now  reveale, 
I  will  in  time  precipitate  his  end : 
Thus  (never  arm'd  but  for  the  common-weale) 
I  help'd  a  foe,  and  now  must  hurt  a  friend. 

Cass.  Lest  of  his  favour  thou  the  poyson  prove, 
From  swallowing  of  such  baites  in.  time  now  spare, 
"  No  tyrant  (trust  me)  can  intirely  love, 
"  Nor  none  who  for  himselfe  doth  onely  care : " 
He  by  this  course  doth  cunningly  intend 
(Thy  vertue  slack'd)  to  undermine  thy  minde: 
Thy  well-knowne  courage  purpos'd  to  disbend, 
Thus  (though  with  silken  bonds)  he  would  thee  binde ; 


The  Tragedy  of  J^iiHus  Ccesar.  255 

This  of  each  tyrant  is  the  common  tread, 

To  wreake  all  those  in  whom  most  worth  he  findes; 

Or  (whilst  that  terrours  tosse  his  jealous  head) 

By  subtilty  to  snare  the  greatest  mindes : 

As,  for  the  pretor-ship  when  we  did  strive, 

Then  both  were  held  in  hope,  that  so  deceiv'd, 

Each  th'  others  harmes  might  study  to  contrive 

Through  emulation  and  disdaine  conceiv'd. 

Thus  subtile  Ccesar  by  such  sleights  hath  toild 

To  sow  dissension,  that  we  both  might  pause 

Of  private  wrongs,  and  (by  such  meanes  imbroil'd) 

Still  courting  him,  neglect  the  common  cause. 

But  nought  must  make  us  th'  one  t'  another  strange, 

Who  should  in  time  the  tyrants  course  restraine : 

Let  other  men  lament,  we  must  revenge, 

I  scorne  to  beare  a  sword,  and  to  complaine. 

Brut.  Though  Casar  (now)  I  must  conspire  thy  fall. 
My  heart  to  thee  yet  never  harbour'd  hate; 
But  (pardon  me)  who  ever  make  it  thrall, 
From  bondage  Bnitus  must  redeeme  the  state. 
Of  this  my  course  what  ever  others  judge, 
Here,  I  protest  it  is  for  good  design'd; 
My  thoughts  are  guilty  of  no  private  grudge, 
For,  reason  and  not  fury  moves  my  minde; 
Nor  doth  ambition  now  enflame  my  brest, 
With  a  prodigious  appetite  to  raigne. 
That  when  I  have  made  Ccesar  Fluids  guest, 
I  in  his  roome  a  monarch  may  remaine ; 
No,  if  that  glory  did  my  fancies  charme, 
To  which  (blind-folded)  tyrants  doe  aspire, 
I  needed  not  to  doe,  nor  suffer  harme, 


256  Stirling's  Poems. 

But  with  lesse  paine  might  compasse  my  desire : 
For,  if  I  would  but  temporize  a  space, 
Till  time  or  death  diminish  Ccesars  might, 
He  thinkes  that  I  deserve  to  have  his  place, 
And  I  could  make  my  day  succeed  his  night ; 
Yet  doe  I  not  for  glory  seeke  so  much 
As  to  attaine  it  by  my  countries  shame : 
But  O !  I  would  (my  zeale  to  it  is  such) 
That  it  may  scape,  incurre  a  kinde  of  blame. 
Yea,  so  that  I  may  free  with  honour'd  wounds 
My  soile  that's  dearer  then  my  soule  to  me, 
I  could  my  selfe  live  banish'd  from  that  bounds, 
Which  at  so  deare  a  rate  I  would  set  free. 

Cas.  What  man  doth  breath  of  Mars  his  martiall 
race. 
But  will  with  Brutus  sacrifize  his  bloud, 
And  (charg'd  with  armes)  ere  tyranny  take  place, 
Dare  venture  all  things  for  his  countries  good, 
Can  any  judgement  be  deceiv'd  so  farre, 
But  it  already  clearely  may  behold. 
How  that  this  change  Routes  greatnesse   soon  will 

marre, 
And  raze  the  trophees  which  she  rear'd  of  old. 
Of  old  in  Rome,  all  those  who  once  had  worne 
The  peace-importing  gowne,  or  war-like  shield, 
(Of  dignities  as  capable  all  borne,) 
Durst  ayme  at  ought  that  liberty  could  yeeld ; 
Those  in  affaires  to  deale,  who  would  set  forth, 
Were  not  discourag'd  by  their  birth,  though  base; 
And  poverty  could  not  hold  backe  true  worth, 
From  having  honour  both  by  warre  and  peace : 


The  Tragedy  of  y^ulius  Ccesar.  257 

Then  emulation  violently  driv'd 

All  gallant  mindes  to  tempt  great  actions  still ; 

In  vertues  love,  who  friendly  rivals  liv'd, 

Whilst  in  their  bosomes  glory  balme  did  still : 

Fabricins  first  was  firom  the  plow  advanc'd, 

The  rudder  of  the  common-weale  to  hold, 

Yet  by  no  meanes  his  private  wealth  enhanc'd, 

As  rich  in  vertue  still,  as  poore  in  gold. 

Rude  Marlus  too,  to  match  red  Alars  in  fame, 

Forth  from  the  vulgar  drosse  his  race  remov'd. 

And  loe,  of  Cicero  the  ridiculous  name, 

As  famous  as  the  Fabians  now  hath  prov'd. 

Each  abject  minde  disdain'd  to  be  obscure, 

When  still  preferment  follow'd  lofty  cares. 

And  that  one  might  by  dangers  past,  procure 

Fame  for  himselfe,  and  honour  to  his  heires : 

But  since  that  state  by  Casar  is  o'return'd. 

Whilst  all  our  lives  upon  ones  lippes  depend, 

Of  brests  which  once  with  love  of  glory  burn'd. 

The  soaring  thoughts  this  wholly  doth  disbend ; 

Advancement  now  doth  not  attend  desert. 

But  flowes  from  fancies  of  a  flatt'red  minde ; 

Which  to  base  hirelings,  honour  doth  impart, 

Whilst  envy'd  worth  no  safe  retreat  can  finde. 

"  All  proud  usurpers  most  addicted  prove, 

"  To  them  whom  without  cause  they  raise  too  high, 

"  As  thinking  those  who  stand  but  by  their  love, 

"  To  entertaine  the  same,  all  meanes  must  try. 

"  Where  they,  whose  vertue  reapes  a  due  reward, 

"  Not  building  onely  on  the  givers  grace, 

"  Doe  by  deserts  not  gaine  so  great  regard, 

VOL.    II.  s 


258  Stirling's  Foems. 

"  Whilst  they  maintaine,  as  they  obtaine  their  place. 

"  And  if  a  worthy  man  to  worke  great  things, 

"  Wing'd  with  a  tyrants  favour,  raise  his  flight, 

"  The  highest  course  to  him  most  harme  still  brings, 

"  Who  till  he  fall,  cannot  have  leave  to  light. 

"  Those  who  by  force  would  have  th'  affection  mov'd, 

"  When  willingly  men  hold  such  gallants  deare, 

"  Doe  rage  that  any  should  be  freely  lov'd, 

"  Whose  vertue  makes  their  vice  more  vile  appeare." 

The  man  who  now  to  be  preferr'd  aspires, 

Must  by  base  flattery  in  a  servile  forme, 

So  soothing  Ccesar,  seale  all  his  desires, 

And  in  some  shadow  lurke  to  scape  a  storme. 

A  number  now  of  that  proud  rebels  foes, 

Who  grieve  to  see  the  ground  whence  growes  their 

griefe, 
Would  in  obscurity  entombe  their  woes, 
So  waiting,  and  not  working  for  reliefe. 
But  we  whose  lofty  mindes  disdaine  to  lowre, 
Like  them  who  seeke  but  their  owne  safety. thus; 
When  shall  we  use  high  indignations  pow'r, 
Which  (as  brave  Romans)  worthy  is  of  us? 

Bnit.  Since  no  indignity  you  will  endure, 
I  see  our  mindes  doe  sympathize  in  this; 
Should  we  by  suff'ring,  seek  to  live  secure, 
Whose  action  must  amend  what  is  amisse'? 
No,  no  such  abject  thought  must  staine  our  brest, 
Whose  active  thoughts  reach  further  than  discourse, 
Whilst  but  like  beasts,  affecting  food  and  rest, 
Where  men  by  reason  should  direct  their  course ; 
Like  those  of  other  parts,  not  rais'd  by  strife, 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  Ccesar.  259 

If  Ccesar  had  been  born,  or  chus'd  our  prince, 

Then  those  who  durst  attempt  to  take  his  life, 

The  world  of  treason  justly  might  convince. 

Let  still  the  states  which  flourish  for  the  time. 

By  subjects  be  inviolable  thought, 

And  those  (no  doubt)  commit  a  monstrous  crime, 

Who  lawfuU  soveraignty  prophane  in  ought : 

And  we  must  thinke  (though  now  thus  brought  to 

bow) 
The  senate  king;  a  subject  Ccesar  is; 
The  soveraignty  whom  violating  now, 
The  world  must  damne,  as  having  done  amisse. 
We  will  (deare  Cassius)  for  our  countries  sake, 
(Whatever  follow)  give,  or  suffer  death. 
And  let  us  now  advise  what  course  to  take, 
Whilst  nought  but  th'  ayre  can  beare  away  our  breath. 

Cass.  I  thinke  this  matter  needs  not  many  words, 
Since  but  one  deed  can  bound  the  common  shame ; 
In  Ccesar' s  body  we  must  sheath  our  swords. 
And  by  his  death  our  liberty  reclaime; 
But  since  his  fortune  did  confound  them  all. 
Who  in  the  fields  to  match  him  did  bearin : 
Whilst  he  by  thousands  made  their  bands  to  fall. 
With  hoary  legions  alvvayes  us'd  to  winne : 
As  Pompeys,  Scipids,  and  Petreius  ghosts, 
In  lightlesse  shades  can  by  experience  tell, 
Who  after  fatall  proofes  of  num'rous  hoasts, 
All  famous  (though  in  fortunately,  fell :) 
And  since  (provided  for  the  Parthian  warre) 
His  armie  arm'd  attends  on  his  decree. 
Where  we  (sequestred  from  such  forces  farre) 


26o  Stirlim^s  Poems 


<b 


Would  (if  suspected)  soone  prevented  be : 

With  some  few  friends  whom  all  things  to  assay, 

A  love  to  us,  or  to  their  country  bindes, 

We  to  his  wreake  must  walke  another  way, 

Whilst,  ere  our  tongues,  our  hands  doe  tell  our  mindes: 

Now  when  most  high,  and  therefore  hated  most, 

The  gathered  senate  seeks  to  make  him  king. 

We  must  goe  give  the  blow  before  we  boast. 

And  him  to  death,  Rome  out  of  bondage  bring. 

Brut.  In  all  this  course  I  onely  one  thing  blame, 
That  we  should  steale,  what  we  may  justly  take, 
By  cloathing  honour  with  a  cloake  of  shame, 
Which  may  our  cause   (though  good)  more   odious 

make. 
O !  I  could  wish  with  honourable  wounds 
To  match  Ro7nes  enemy  in  the  battels  dust : 
No  sweeter  musicke  then  the  trumpets  sounds, 
When  right  and  valour  keepe  a  consort  just : 
Then,  free  if  quicke,  else  dead,  no  harme  more  fear'd, 
I  alwayes  so  contentment  might  attaine; 
What  tombe  to  men  more  glorious  can  be  rear'd. 
Then   mountaines   made   of    foes   whom   they   have 

slain  e 'J 
But  how  are  my  transported  thoughts  growne  such, 
That  they  disdaine  a  measure  to  admit? 
Whilst  (bent  not  what  to  doe,  but  to  doe  much) 
On  glories  throne,  ambition  strives  to  sit. 
No,  to  the  state  me  from  my  selfe  I  give, 
Free  from  particulars,  as  who  expose 
Fame,  life,  and  all  for  it,  and  whilst  I  live. 
So  Rome  may  gaine,  I  care  not  what  I  lose. 


The  Tragedy  of  'J^ulius  Ccesar.  261 

rie  never  rest  till  he  for  ever  rest, 

Who  gives  my  country  such  a  cause  of  griefe ; 

And  that  to  doe  no  forme  I  will  detest, 

Nor  for  my  fame  endanger  Romes  reliefe : 

But  (worthy  Cassius)  ere  we  further  doe, 

Let  our  friends  mindes  first  well  be  understood, 

Of  which  I  hope  to  have  assistance  too, 

Who  will  not  venture  for  his  countries  good  1 

Cass.  Now  \yhilst  my  soule  rests  ravish'd  in  a  trance, 
I  thinke  I  see  great  Rome  her  courage  raise, 
Then  beat  the  ayre  with  songs,  th'  earth  Avith  a  dance. 
And  crowne  thy  vertues  with  deserved  praise. " 


ACT   III.      SCENE   II. 

Marcus  Brutus,  Portia. 

Brut.  My  dearest  halfe,  my  comfort,  my  delight, 
Of  whom  one  smyle  may  sweeten  all  my  sow'rs : 
Thou  in  my  bosome  us'd  to  powre  thy  spright, 
And  where  I  was  didst  spare  afflictions  pow'rs. 
When  broils  domesticke  did  disturbe  thy  rest, 
Then  still  (till  finding)  faining  some  reliefe; 
Thou  with  calme  words  disguis'd  a  stormy  brest, 
loyes  frankly  sharing,  and  engrossing  griefe; 
Still  tend'ring  me  with  a  respective  care. 
What  might  oftend,  was  by  no  meanes  made  knowne : 
But  (with  loves  colours  all  things  painted  faire) 
What  might  have  made  me  glad,  was  gladly  showne. 
How  com'st  thou  then  thy  courage  thus  to  lose, 
That  thou  canst  look  so  sad,  and  in  my  sight? 


262  Stirlwg's  Poems. 

Lend  me  (deare  love)  a  portion  of  thy  woes ; 
"A  burden  (when  divided)  doth  grow  hght;" 
I  see  the  roses  fading  in  thy  face, 
The  lilies  languish,  violets  take  their  place. 

Poj:  Thou  hast  (dear  lord)  prevented  my  designe, 
Which  was  to  aske  of  thee  what  makes  me  pale; 
\i  Phoebus  had  no  light,  could  Phxbe  shine  ^ 
No,  with  the  cause  of  force  th'  effects  must  faile. 
The  mirrour  but  gives  backe  as  it  receives, 
By  just  resemblance  the  objected  forme, 
And  what  impression  the  ingraver  leaves, 
The  waxe  retains,  still  to  the  stamp  conforme. 
I  am  the  mirrour  which  reflects  thy  minde, 
As  forc'd  from  thoughts,  or  flowing  from  thine  eyes; 
I  take  the  state  in  which  thy  state  I  finde; 
Such  is  my  colour  as  thy  count'nance  dyes. 
Then  how  can  I  rejoyce,  whil'st  thou  art  sad. 
Whose  breast  of  all  thy  crosses  is  the  scroule'? 
I  am  still  as  thou  art,  if  griev'd,  or  glad, 
Thy  bodies  shadow,  th'  essence  of  thy  soule  : 
On  that  great  planet  which  divides  the  yeares. 
Of  fields  inferiour  as  the  fruit  depends, 
And  as  it  vanish  doth,  or  pleas'd  appeares. 
In  th'  earths  cold  bosome,  life  begins,  or  ends ; 
Sunne  of  my  soule,  so  I  subsist  by  thee, 
Whose  shining  vertue  leades  me  as  a  thrall : 
From  care-bred  clouds  if  that  thy  face  be  free, 
I  rise  in  joyes,  but  if  thou  faint  I  fall. 

Brut.  With  all  my  course  this   count'nance   best 
accords, 
Who  as  you  know,  yet  never  from  my  birth. 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  Cczsar.  263 

Light  gestures  us'd,  nor  did  delight  in  words, 

Whose  pleasant  straines  were  onely  tun'd  to  mirth. 

My  melancholy  nature  feeds  on  cares, 

Whil'st  smothred  sorrow  by  a  habite  smokes : 

"  A  thoughtfuU  breast  (when  burden'd  with  affaires) 

"  Doth  make  a  silent  mouth,  and  speaking  looks;" 

As  for  my  palenesse,  it  imports  but  good  : 

"  The  bodies  humbling  doth  exalt  the  minde," 

Where  fatnesse  (come  from  food)  but  serves  for  food : 

In  fattest  bodies,  leanest  sprits  we  finde. 

Ah!  since  I  saw  the  abhorr'd  ThessalicCs  bounds. 

All  drench'd  with  bloud  of  senatours  and  kings, 

(As  if  my  soule  yet  smarted  in  their  wounds) 

A  secret  sorrow  often-times  me  stings : 

But  since  thy  father  (braving  paine  with  blows) 

In  the  most  hideous  forme  affronted  death, 

To  him  my  minde  a  sad  remembrance  owes, 

Which  sorrow  shall  exact  whil'st  I  have  breath ; 

Yet  grieve  I  that  I  gave  thee  cause  of  griefe, 

Who  thoughtst  some  new  mishap  did  me  dismay 

To  such  old  sores  one  worst  can  give  reliefe; 

But  time  in  end  may  vveare  my  woes  away. 

For.  Why  shouldst  thou  so  from  me  thy  thoughts 
concealed 
From  thine  own  soule  between  whose  breasts  thou 

sleep'st. 
To  whom  (though  showne)  thou  dost  them  not  reveale, 
But  in  thy  selfe  more  inwardly  them  keep'st? 
And  thou  canst  hardly  hide  thy  selfe  from  me, 
Who  soone  in  thee  each  alteration  spie, 
I  can  comment  on  all  that  comes  from  thee : 


264  Stirling's  Poems. 

"  True  love  still  looks  with  a  suspitious  eye:" 
Within  our  bosome  rests  not  every  thought, 
Tun'd  by  a  sympathie  of  mutuall  love? 
Thou  marr'st  the  musicke  if  thou  change  in  ought. 
Which  (when  distemper'd)  I  do  quickly  prove. 
Soule  of  my  soule,  unfold  what  is  amisse, 
Some  great  disaster  all  my  thoughts  divine, 
Whose  curiousnesse  may  be  excus'd  in  this, 
Since  it  concerns  thy  state,  and  therefore  mine. 

Brut.  I  wonder  that  thou  dost  thy  frailtie  show  \ 
"  By  nature  women  have  beene  curious  still," 
And  yet  till  novi'  thou  never  crav'd  to  know 
More  then  I  pleas'd  to  speak  of  my  free  will. 
"  Nought  save  the  wife  a  man  within  the  walls, 
"  Nor  ought  save  him  without  she  should  embrace : 
"  And  it  not  comely  is,  but  th'  one  enthralls, 
"  When  any  sexe  usurpes  anothers  place." 
Deare,  to  their  wonted  course  thy  cares  inure, 
I  may  have  matters  which  import  the  state, 
Whose  op'ning  up  might  my  disgrace  procure, 
Whose  weight  for  femall  thoughts  would  be  too  great. 

Par.  I  was  not  {Brutus)  match'd  with  thee,  to  be 
A  partner  onely  of  thy  boord,  and  bed : 
Each  servile  whore  in  those  might  equall  me, 
Who  but  for  pleasure  or  for  wealth  did  wed. 
No,  Portia  spous'd  thee  minding  to  remaine 
Thy  fortunes  partner,  whether  good  or  ill : 
"  By  loves  strict  bonds  whil'st  mutuall  duties  chaine, 
"  Two  breasts  must  hold  one   heart,  two  souls  one 

will; 
"  Those  whom  just  Hyvwi  voluntar'ly  bindes, 


The  Tragedy  of  jl^ulius  Ccesar.  265 

"  Betwixt  them  should  communicate  all  things, 
"But  chiefly  that  which  most  doth  move  the  mindes; 
"  Whence  either  pleasure,  or  displeasure  springs." 
If  thus  thou  seek  thy  sorrows  to  conceale 
Through  a  disdaine,  or  a  mistrust  of  me, 
Then  to  the  world  what  way  can  I  reveale, 
How  great  a  matter  I  would  do  for  thee? 
And  though  our  sexe  too  talkative  be  deem'd, 
As  those  whose  tongues  import  our  greatest  pow'rs, 
For  secrets  still  bad  treasurers  esteem'd, 
Of  others  greedy,  prodigall  of  ours ; 
"  Good  education  may  reforme  defects," 
And  this  may  leade  me  to  a  vertuous  life, 
(Whil'st  such  rare  patterns  generous  worth  respects) 
I  Catds  daughter  am,  and  Brutus  wife. 
Yet  would  I  not  repose  my  trust  in  ought. 
Still  thinking  that  thy  crosse  was  great  to  beare, 
Till  I  my  courage  to  a  tryall  brought, 
Which  suffering  for  thy  cause  can  nothing  feare : 
For  first  to  try  how  that  I  could  comport 
With  Sterne  afflictions  sprit-enfeebling  blows. 
Ere  I  would  seek  to  vex  thee  in  this  sort, 
To  whom  my  soule  a  dutious  reverence  owes. 
Loe,  here  a  wound  which  makes  me  not  to  smart, 
No,  I  rejoyce  that  thus  my  strength  is  knowne: 
Since  thy  distresse  strikes  deeper  in  my  heart, 
Thy  griefe  (lifes  joy)  makes  me  neglect  mine  owne. 
Brut  Thou   must   (deare    love)   that   which   thou 
sought'st  receive, 
Thy  heart  so  high  a  saile  in  stormes  still  beares, 
That  thy  great  courage  doth  reserve  to  have 


266  Stirlin^^s  Poems. 


ii 


Our  enterprise  entrusted  to  thine  eares; 

This  magnanimitie  prevailes  so  farre, 

That  it  my  resolution  miist  controule, 

And  of  my  bosome  doth  the  depths  unbarre, 

To  lodge  thee  in  the  centre  of  my  soule. 

Thou  seest  in  what  estate  the  state  now  stands, 

Of  whose  strong  pillars  Ccesar  spoyl'd  the  best, 

Whil'st  by  his  owne,  preventing  others  hands, 

Our  famous  father  fell  amongst  the  rest. 

That  proud  usurper  fondly  doth  presume 

To  re-erect  detested  Tarquins  throne. 

Thus  the  worlds  mistresse  all-commanding  Rome, 

Must  entertaine  no  minion  now  but  one. 

All  those  brave  mindes  who  mark  where  he  doth  tend. 

Swell  with  disdaine,  their  countries  scorne  to  see ; 

And  I  am  one  of  those  who  soone  intend 

(His  death  or  mine  procur'd)  to  be  made  free. 

Par.  And  without  me,  canst  thou  resolve  so  soone 
To  try  the  danger  of  a  doubtfuU  strife  1 
As  if  despair'd,  and  alwayes  but  undone, 
Of  me  growne  weary,  weary  of  thy  life. 
Yet  since  thou  thus  thy  rash  designe  hast  showne, 
Leave  Portia's  portion,  venter  not  her  part, 
Endanger  nought  but  that  which  is  thine  owne. 
Go  where  thou  lik'st,  I  will  hold  still  thy  heart. 
But  lest  by  holding  of  thy  best  part  back, 
The  other  perish't,  aggravate  my  grones : 
Who  would  be  so  thought  guilty  of  thy  wrack, 
Take  all  thy  treasure  to  the  seas  at  once. 
Like  Asids  monarchs  wife,  who  with  short  haires, 
(Sad  signes  of  bondage)  past  still  where  he  past, 


The  Tragedy  of  'Julius  Casar.  267 

To  vveare  away,  or  beare  away  tliy  cares, 

I'le  follow  thee,  and  of  thy  fortune  taste. 

These  hands  which  were  with  mine  own  bloud  inibru'd, 

To  strike  another,  may  more  strength  afford, 

At  least  when  thou  by  th'  enemies  art  pursu'd, 

I'le  set  ray  selfe  betwixt  thee  and  each  sword ; 

But  if  too  great  a  priviledge  I  claime, 

Whose  actions  all  should  be  dispos'd  by  thee. 

Ah!  pardon  {Brutus)  and  but  onely  blame 

This  streame  of  passions  that  transported  me. 

Brut.  Thou  ask'st  Avhat  thou  shouldst  give,  forgive 
deare  mate, 
This  ventrous  course  of  mine,  which  must  have  place. 
Though  it  make  fortune  tyrant  of  our  state, 
Whose  fickle  foot-steps  vertue  grieves  to  trace. 
And  wonder  not  though  thus  to  thee  I  prove, 
Since  private  duties  now  all  pow'r  have  lost; 
I  weigh  not  glory,  profit,  pleasure,  love, 
Nor  what  respect  may  now  import  me  most : 
So  to  the  land  of  which  I  hold  my  life, 
I  may  performe  that  worke  which  I  intend. 
Let  me  be  call'd  unkinde  unto  my  wife: 
Yea,  worst  of  all,  ingrate  unto  my  friend. 
"As  an  instinct  by  nature  makes  us  know, 
"  There  are  degrees  of  duty  to  be  past, 
"  Of  which  the  first  unto  the  gods  we  owe, 
"  The  next  t'  our  countrey,  to  our  friends  the  last." 
From  Rome  of  old  proud  tyrants  bent  to  drive, 
Did  th'  author  of  my  race  with  ardent  zeale, 
Make  those  to  dye,  whom  he  had  made  to  live, 
And  spoil'd  himselfe  to  raise  the  common-wealel 


268  Stirling's  Poems. 

To  settle  that  which  Ccesar  now  o'rethrows, 

(Though  vertues  nurserie,  stately  whil'st  it  stood) 

He  with  the  tyrant  inter-changing  blows, 

On  glories  altar  offered  fame  his  bloud. 

And  did  that  man  to  crosse  the  common  foe, 

Then  damne  his  sonnes  to  death?  and  with  dry  eyes, 

And  is  his  speciall  heire  degener'd  so, 

In  abject  bondage  that  he  basely  lyes'? 

No,  his  posterity  his  name  not  staines, 

But  even  to  tread  his  steps  doth  fast  draw  neare; 

Yet,  of  his  sprit  in  us  some  spark  remaines. 

Who  more  then  life,  our  liberty  hold  deare. 

Por.  Then  prosecute  thy  course,  for  I  protest, 
Though  with  some  griefe,  my  soule  the  same  approves; 
This  resolution  doth  become  thy  brest, 
In  honours  spheare  where  heavenly  vertue  moves : 
And  do  this  enterprise  no  more  deferre. 
What  thee  contents,  to  me  contentment  brings, 
I  to  my  life  thy  safety  do  preferre, 
But  hold  thy  honour  deare  above  all  things. 
It  would  but  let  the  world  my  weaknesse  see. 
If  I  sought  my  delights,  not  thy  desires, 
Though  griefe  it  give,  and  threaten  death  to  me. 
Go  follow  forth  that  which  thy  fame  requires. 
Though  nature,  sexe,  and  education  breed, 
No  power  in  me,  with  such  a  purpose  even, 
I  must  lend  help  to  this  intended  deed. 
If  vows  and  pray'rs  may  penetrate  the  heaven : 
But  difficulties  huge  my  fancie  findes. 
Nought,  save  the  successe,  can  defray  my  feare : 
"  Ah !  fortune  alwayes  frownes  on  worthy  mindes, 


The  Tragedy  of  Julius  Ccesar.  269 

''  As  hating  all  who  trust  in  ought  save  her." 

Yet  I  despaire  not  but  thou  may'st  prevaile, 

And  by  this  course  to  ease  my  present  grones, 

I  this  advantage  have  which  cannot  faile: 

I'le  be  a  free-mans  wife,  or  else  be  nones : 

For,  if  all  prosper  not  as  we  pretend. 

And  that  the  heavens  Romes  bondage  to  decree, 

Straight  with  thy  liberty  my  life  shall  end, 

Who  have  no  comfort  but  what  comes  from  thee ; 

My  father  hath  me  taught  what  way  to  dye, 

By  which  if  hindred  from  encountring  death, 

Some  other  meanes,  I  (though  more  strange)  must 

try: 
For,  after  Brutus  none  shall  see  me  breathe. 

Brut.  Thou   for  my  cause   all   others  earst  didst 
leave. 
But  now  forsak'st  thy  selfe  to  joyne  with  me, 
"  Ore  generous  love  no  pow'r  weake  passions  have  " 
Against  thy  minde  thou  dost  with  mine  agree. 
I'le  (since  by  thee  approv'd)  securely 
And  vilipend  the  dangers  of  this  life : 
Heavens  make  my  enterprise  to  prosper  so, 
That  I  may  once  prove  worthy  such  a  wife : 
But  ah !  of  all  thy  words  those  grieve  me  most. 
Which  bragge  me  with  the  dating  of  thy  dayes ; 
What?  though  I  in  so  good  a  cause  were  lost, 
"  None  flies  the  fate  which  stablish'd  for  him  stayes." 
Do  not  defraud  the  world  of  thy  rare  worth, 
But  of  thy  Brutus  the  remembrance  love; 
From  this  faire  prison  strive  not  to  breake  forth. 
Till  first  the  fates  have  forc'd  thee  to  remove. 


270  Stirling's  Poems. 

For.  The   heavens   (I   feare)   have   our   confusion 
sworn, 
Since  this  ill  age  can  with  no  good  accord, 
Thou  and  my  father  (ah !)  should  have  beene  borne, 
When  vertue  was  advanc'd,  and  vice  abhorr'd. 
Then,  ere  the  light  of  vertue  was  declin'd, 
Your  worth  had  reverenc'd  beene,  not  throwne  away, 
Where  now  ye  both  have  but  in  darknesse  shin'd, 
As  starres  by  night,  that  had  beene  sunnes  by  day: 

£}'ut.  My  treasure,  strive  to  pacific  thy  brest, 
Lest  sorrows  but  sinistrously  presage 
That  which  thou  would'st  not  wish,  and  hope  the  best, 
Though  vertue  now  must  act  on  fortunes  stage. 

\Exeuni. 

Chorus. 

Then  liberty,  of  earthly  things 

What  more  delights  a  generous  brest  ? 

Which  doth  receive, 

And  can  conceive 

The  matchlesse  treasure  that  it  brings ; 

It  making  men  securely  rest. 

As  all  perceive, 

Doth  none  deceive, 

Whil'st  from  the  same  true  courage  springs, 

But  fear'd  for  nought,  doth  what  seemes  best: 

"  Then  men  are  men,  when  they  are  all  their  owne, 

"  Not,  but  by  others  badges  when  made  knowne : " 

Yet  should  we  not  misiDending  houres, 

A  freedome  seeke,  as  oft  it  falls, 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  C^sar.  271 

With  an  intent 

But  to  content 

These  vaine  delights,  and  appetites  of  ours; 

For,  then  but  made  farre  greater  thralls, 

We  might  repent 

As  not  still  pent 

In  stricter  bounds  by  others  pow'rs, 

Whil'st  feare  licentious  thoughts  appalls  : 

"  Of  all  the  tyrants  that  the  world  afibrds, 

"  Ones  ovvne  affections  are  the  fiercest  lords : " 

As  libertines  those  onely  live, 

Who  (from  the  bands  of  vice  set  free) 

Vile  thoughts  cancell. 

And  would  excell 

In  all  that  doth  true  glory  give. 

From  which  when  as  no  tyrants  be 

Them  to  repell. 

And  to  compell 

Their  deeds  against  their  thoughts  to  strive, 

They  blest  are  in  a  high  degree : 

"  For  such  of  fame  the  scrouls  can  hardly  fill, 

"  Whose  wit  is  bounded  by  anothers  will." 

Our  ancestors  of  old  such  prov'd, 

(Who  Rome  from  Tarquines  yoke  redeem'd) 

They  first  obtain'd. 

And  then  maintain'd 

Their  liberty  so  dearly  lov'd; 

They  from  all  things  which  odious  seem'd 

(Though  not  constrain'd) 

Themselves  restrain'd. 

And  willingly  all  good  approv'd. 


272  Stirling's  Poems. 

Bent  to  be  much,  yet  well  esteem' d; 

"  And  how  could  such  but  ayme  at  some  great  end, 

''Whom  liberty  did  leade,  glory  attend?" 

They  leading  valorous  legions  forth, 

(Though  wanting  kings)  triumph'd  o're  kings, 

And  still  aspir'd, 

By  Mars  inspir'd, 

To  conquer  all  from  south  to  north ; 

Then  lending  fame  their  eagles  wings, 

They  all  acquir'd 

That  was  requir'd, 

To  make  them  rare  for  rarest  things. 

The  world  made  witnesse  of  their  worth : 

Thus  those  great  mindes  who  domineer'd  o're  all, 

Did  make  themselves  first  free,  then  others  thrall, 

But  we  who  hold  nought  but  their  name, 

From  that  to  which  they  in  times  gone 

Did  high  ascend 

Must  low  descend, 

And  bound  their  glory  with  our  shame, 

Whil'st  on  an  abject  tyrants  throne, 

We  (base)  attend, 

And  do  intend 

Vs  for  our  fortune  still  to  frame, 

Not  it  for  us,  and  all  for  one : 

"  As  liberty  a  courage  doth  impart, 

"  So  bondage  doth  disbend,  else  breake  the  heart," 

Yet,  O !  who  knows  but  Ro^ne  to  grace 

Another  Brutus  may  arise? 

Who  may  effect 

What  we  affect. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^tdius  Ccesar.  273 

And  Tarquines  steps  make  CcBsar  trace ; 
Though  seeming  dangers  to  despise 
He  doth  suspect 
What  we  expect 

Which  from  his  breast  hath  banish'd  peace, 
Though  fairely  he  his  feares  disguise : 
"  Of  tyrants  even  the  wrong,  revenge  affords, 
"All   feare   but   theirs,   and   they   feare    all   mens 
swords." 

ACT   IV.       SCENE   I. 

Decius  Brutus  Albmus,  Marcus  Brutus, 
Caius  Cassius. 

Dec.  Deare  cosin,  Cassius  did  acquaint  mine  eares 
With  a  designe  which  toss'd  my  minde  a  space ; 
"  For,   when   strange  news,  a  strangers   breath    first 

beares, 
"  One  should  not  straight  to  rash  reports  give  place." 
I  would  not  then  discover  what  I  thought. 
Lest  he  to  trap  my  tongue,  a  snare  had  fram'd, 
Till  first  with  thee  I  to  conferre  was  brought, 
Whom  he  for  patron  of  his  purpose  nam'd. 
"  One  should  look  well  to  whom  his  minde  he  leaves, 
"  In  dangerous  times  when  tales  by  walls  are  told, 
"  Men  make  themselves  unnecessar'ly  slaves, 
"  Of  those  to  whom  their  secrets  they  unfold." 

Brut.  As    Cassius    told    thee,    griev'd    for  Ronies 
distresse, 
Which  to  our  shame  in  bondage  doth  remaine, 
We  straight  intend  what  ever  we  professe, 

VOL.    II.  T 


274  Stirling^ s  Poems. 

With  Ccesars  bloud  to  wash  away  this  staine. 

Though  for  this  end  a  few  sulificient  are, 

To  whom  their  vertue  courage  doth  impart, 

Yet  were  we  loth  to  wrong  thy  worth  so  farre, 

As  of  such  glory  to  give  thee  no  part. 

Since  both  this  cause,  yea,  and  thy  name  thee  binde, 

In  this  adventrous  band  to  be  compris'd. 

There  needs  no  rhetoricke  to  raise  thy  minde, 

To  do  the  thing  which  thou  should'st  have  devis'd. 

Dec.  I  thought  no    creature    should    my    purpose 
know, 
But  he  whose  int'rest  promis'd  mutuall  cares : 
"  Of  those  to  whom  one  would  his  secret  show, 
"  No  greater  pledge  of  trust  then  to  know  theirs;" 
As  when  two  meet  whil'st  mask'd  (though  most  deare 

friends) 
With  them  (as  strangers)  no  respect  takes  place, 
But  straight  when  friend-ship  one  of  them  pretends. 
The  other  likewise  doth  un-cloud  the  face. 
So  as  thou  first.  Tie  now  at  last  be  bold : 
My  brest  with  the  same  birth  long  bigge  hath  gone, 
But  I  to  others  durst  it  not  unfold, 
Nor  yet  attempt  to  compasse  it  alone ; 
But  since  this  course,  at  which  I  long  did  pause. 
On  such  great  pillars  now  so  strongly  stands. 
Whose  count'nance  may  give  credit  to  a  cause, 
It  hath  my  heart,  and  it  shall  have  my  hands. 

Cass.  To  our  designes  propitious  signes  are  sent. 
So  that  the  gods  would  give  us  courage  thus : 
For,  all  who  ever  heard  of  our  intent, 
Would  willingly  engage  themselves  with  us : 


The  Tragedy  of  'y alius  Ccesar. 


- 1  a 


Let  other  men  discourse  of  vertuous  rites, 

Ours  but  by  action  onely  should  be  shovvne : 

"  Bare  speculation  is  but  for  such  sprits 

"  As  want  of  pow'r,  or  courage  keeps  unknowne. 

"  In  those  who  vertue  view,  when  crown'd  with  deeds, 

"  Through  glories  glasse,  whose  beauties  long  have 

shin'd, 
"  To  be  embrac'd  an  high  desire  she  breeds, 
"  As  load-stones  iron,  so  ravishing  the  minde  :  " 
What  though  a  number  now  in  darknesse  lyes. 
Who  are  too  weak  for  matters  of  such  weight'? 
We  who  are  eminent  in  all  mens  eyes. 
Let  us  still  hold  the  height  of  honour  straight. 

Brut.  Earst  (that  our  faction  might  be  strengthned 
thus) 
I  labour'd  much  to  purchase  all  their  pow'rs, 
Whom  hate  to  Ctzsar,  love  to  Rome,  or  us, 
Might  make  imbarke  in  those  great  hopes  of  ours ; 
By  sicknesse  then  imprison'd  in  his  bed, 
Whil'st  I  Ligarius  spy'd  whom  paines  did  pricke, 
When  I  had  said  with  words  that  anguish  bred : 
In  what  a  time  Ligarius  art  thou  sick? 
He  answer'd  straight  as  I  had  physicke  brought, 
Or  that  he  had  imagin'd  my  design e, 
If  worthie  of  thy  selfe  thou  would'st  do  ought, 
Then  Brutus  I  am  whole,  and  wholly  thine  : 
Since  he  by  Ccesar  was  accus'd  of  late 
For  taking  Pompey' s  part,  yet  at  this  houre 
He  (though  absolv'd)  doth  still  the  tyrant  hate, 
Since  once  endanger'd  by  his  lawlesse  pow'r : 
Thus  (of  great  sprits  exasperating  spites) 


276  Stirling s  Foenis. 

Heaven  of  our  course  the  progresse  doth  direct, 
One  inspiration  all  our  soules  incites, 
Who  have  advis'dly  sworne  for  one  effect. 

Dec.  So  I  with  Cicero  did  conferre  at  length, 
Who  (I  perceive)  the  present  state  detests, 
And  though  old  age  diminish'd  hath  his  strength, 
In  him  a  will  to  free  his  countrey  rests. 

Brut.  That  man  whose  love   still  to  his   countrey 
shin'd. 
Would  willingly  the  common-wealth  restore : 
Then  he  (I  know)  though  he  conceals  his  minde, 
None  Ccesar  more  dislikes,  nor  likes  us  more  : 
Yet  to  his  custody  I'le  not  commit 
The  secrets  of  our  enterprise  so  soone : 
"  Men  may  themselves  be  often-times  not  fit 
"  To  do  the  things  which  they  would  wish  were  done.'' 
He  still  was  timorous,  and,  by  age  growne  worse. 
Might  chance  to  lay  our  honour  in  the  dust; 
''  All  cowards  must  inconstant  be  of  force, 
"  With   bold   designes   none   fearfuU   breasts   should 

trust." 
Then,  some  of  ours  would  hold  their  hands  still  pure, 
Who  (ere  they  be  suspected)  for  a  space, 
Amid'st  the  tumult  may  remaine  secure. 
And  with  the  people  mediate  our  peace : 
But  who  then  Tullius  fitter  for  that  turne, 
Whose  eloquence  is  us'd  to  charme  their  eares? 
His  banishment  they  in  black  gownes  did  mourne, 
Whom  all  do  honour  for  his  worth  and  yeares. 

Cass.  Those    studious   wits   which    have    through 
dangers  gone, 


The  Tragedy  of  yHliiis  Ccesar.  277 

'  Would  still  be  out,  ere  that  they  enter  in : 
"  Who  muse  of  many  things,  resolve  of  none, 
"  And  (thinking  of  the  end)  cannot  begin. 
"  The  minde  which  looks  no  further  then  the  eye, 
"And  more  to  nature  trusts,  then  unto  art, 
"  Such  doubtfull  fortunes  fittest  is  to  try  : 
"  A  furious  actor  for  a  desp'rat  part." 
We  have  enow,  and  of  the  best  degree, 
Whose  hands  unto  their  hearts,  hearts  t'  us  are  true, 
And  if  that  we  seek  moe,  I  feare  we  be 
To  hide,  too  many,  if  disclos'd,  too  few; 
Let  us  advise  with  an  industrious  care 
(Now  ere  the  tyrant  intercept  our  mindes) 
The  time,  the  place,  the  manner,  when,  and  where 
We  should  en-trust  our  treasure  to  the  windes ; 
And  since  our  states  this  doth  in  danger  bring. 
Let  every  point  be  circumspectly  weigh'd, 
"  A  circumstance,  or  an  indifferent  thing, 
"  Doth  oft  marre  all,  when  not  with  care  conveighd." 
Brut.  As  for  the  time,  none  could  be  wish'd  more 
fit. 
Then  is  the  present  to  performe  our  vow. 
Since  all  the  people  must  allow  of  it, 
By  recent  anguish  mov'd  extreamely  now. 
When  represented  in  his  triumph  past, 
Great  Catds  mangled  intrails  made  them  weep, 
And  desp'rat  Scipio  whil'st  he  leap't  at  last 
To  seek  a  sanctuary  amidst  the  deep. 
Then  all  those  great  men  whom  in  severall  parts, 
Bent  for  Romes  freedome,  Ccesar  did  o'rethrow. 
Did  by  their  pictures  pierce  the  peoples  hearts, 


278  Stirling's  Poems. 

And  made  a  piteous  (though  a  pompous)  show; 

How  could  they  but  conceive  a  just  disdaine 

To  be  upbraided  in  so  strange  a  sort, 

Whil'st  he  who  onely  by  their  losse  did  gaine, 

Of  their  calamitie  did  make  a  sport  1 

But  yet  his  purpose  grieves  them  most  of  all, 

Since  that  he  strives  to  be  proclaim'd  a  king : 

And  not  contents  himselfe  to  make  us  thrall, 

But  would  even  all  our  heires  to  bondage  bring. 

Thus  whil'st  the  people  are  with  him  displeas'd. 

We  best  may  do  what  to  our  part  belongs : 

For,  after  this  they  may  be  best  appeas'd, 

If,  whil'st  their  wrath  doth  last,  we  venge  their  wrongs; 

And  (since  we  nought  intend  but  what  is  right, 

Whil'st  from  our  countrey  we  remove  disgrace) 

Let  all  be  acted  in  the  senates  sight, 

A  common  cause,  and  in  a  common  place. 

Let  those  whose  guilty  thoughts  do  damne  their  deeds, 

In  corners  like  Minerva's  birds  abide. 

That  which  our  countrey  good,  us  glory  breeds, 

May  by  the  lights  of  heaven  and  earth  be  try'd. 

The  senatours  by  our  example  mov'd, 

Pleas'd  with  this  action  which  imports  them  too, 

To  have  the  yoke  of  tyranny  remov'd, 

May  at  the  least  confirme  that  which  we  do; 

So  all  the  senatours  were  said  of  old. 

King  Ro7miliis  in  peeces  to  have  torne, 

Who  then  to  tyrannize  was  growne  too  bold, 

And,  ere  turn'd  god,  humanitie  did  scorne. 

Dec.  Yea,  what  though  Ci^xarwere  immortall  made, 
As  Romulus,  whose  deitie  him  revives? 


The  Tragedy  of  y^ulius  Ccesar.  279 

I  rather  as  a  god  adore  him  dead, 

Then  as  a  king  obey  him  whil'st  he  lives. 

Cass.  That  place  indeed,  most  for  our  glory  makes, 
A  theater  worthy  of  so  great  an  act. 
Where  in  their  sight  from  whom  most  pow'r  he  takes, 
We  of  the  tyrant  vengeance  may  exact; 
But  I  must  recommend  unto  your  minde, 
A  course  (though  strict)  of  which  we  must  allow, 
Lest  it  o'rethrow  all  that  we  have  design'd, 
Since  past  recovery,  if  neglected  now : 
There  is  Antoniiis,  Ccesars  greatest  friend, 
A  man  whose  nature  tyranny  affects, 
Whom  all  the  souldiers  daily  do  attend, 
As  one  who  nought  but  to  command  respects; 
I  feare  that  he  when  we  have  Ccesar  slaine. 
The  grieved  faction  furnish  with  a  head : 
So  when  we  end,  we  must  begin  againe 
With  one  who  lives  worse  then  the  other  dead ; 
And  in  my  judgement  I  would  thinke  it  best, 
When  sacrific'd  the  proud  usurper  lyes. 
That  this  seditious  enemy  of  rest 
Should  fall  with  him,  with  whom  he  first  did  rise  : 
Thus,  of  our  liberty  we  now  may  lay 
A  solid  ground,  which  can  be  shak't  by  none  : 
"  Those  of  their  purpose  who  a  part  delay, 
"  Two  labours  have,  who  might  have  had  but  one." 

Brut.  I  cannot  {Cassius)  condescend  to  kill 
(Thus  from  the  path  of  justice  to  decline) 
One  faultlesse  yet,  lest  after  he  prove  ill. 
So  to  prevent  his  guiltinesse  by  mine ; 
No,  no,  that  neither  honest  were,  nor  just, 


28o  Stirling's  Poems. 


'^ 


Which  rigorous  forme  would  but  the  world  affright, 

Men  by  this  meane,  our  meaning  might  mistrust, 

And  for  a  little  wrong  damne  all  that's  right : 

If  we  do  onely  kill  the  common  foe, 

Our  countries  zeale  must  then  acquire  due  praise, 

But  if  (like  tyrants)  fiercely  raging  so. 

We  will  be  thought  that  which  we  raze  to  raise ; 

And  where  we  but  intend  to  aide  the  state, 

Though  by  endangering  what  we  hold  most  deare. 

If  slaying  him  (as  arm'd  by  private  hate) 

We  to  the  world  all  partiall  will  appeare, 

Ah,  ah !  we  must  but  too  much  murder  see, 

Who  without  doing  ill  cannot  do  good : 

And,  would  the  gods,  that  Rome  could  be  made  free 

Without  the  shedding  of  one  drop  of  bloud ! 

Then,  there  is  hope  that  AntJionie  in  end, 

Whil'st  first  our  vertue  doth  direct  the  way. 

Will  (leagu'd  with  us)  the  liberty  defend. 

And  (when  brought  back)  will  blush,  as  once  astray. 

Cass.  Well  Brutus.,  I  protest  against  my  will, 
From  this  black  cloud,  what  ever  tempest  fall. 
That  mercy  but  most  cruelly  doth  kill. 
Which  thus  saves  one,  who  once  may  plague  us  all. 

Dec.  When  CcBsar  with  the  senatours  sits  downe, 
In  this  your  judgements  generally  accord, 
That  for  affecting  wrongfully  the  crowne, 
He  lawfully  may  perish  by  the  sword : 
No  greater  harme  can  for  our  course  be  wrought, 
Then  by  protracting  the  appointed  time. 
Lest  that,  which  acted  would  be  vertue  thought, 
Be  (if  prevented)  constru'd  as  a  crime; 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  Ccesar.  281 

Can  one  thing  long  in  many  mindes  be  pent"? 
"  No,  purposes  would  never  be  delayd, 
"  Which  judg'd  by  th'  issues  fortune  doth  comment, 
"  If  prosp'ring,  reason,  treason  it  betrai'd." 
There  may  amongst  our  selves  some  man  remaine, 
Whom  (if  afraid)  his  pardon  to  procure, 
Or  (if  too  greedy)  for  the  hope  of  gaine, 
Time  to  disclose  his  consorts  may  allure. 
Then  for  our  recompence  we  ruine  reape, 
If  ought  our  course  thus  made  abortive  marre. 
For,  if  discovered  once,  we  cannot  scape : 
"  As  tyrants   eares   heare   much,  their  hands  reach 
farre." 

Cass.  The  brest  in  which  so  deep  a  secret  dwels, 
Would  not  be  long  charg'd  with  so  weighty  cares : 
For,  I  conjecture,  as  their  countnance  tels. 
That  many  know  our  mindes,  though  we  not  theirs : 
Even  but  of  late  one,  Casca  came  to  see 
Who  curious  was  to  have  our  purpose  knowne, 
And  said  to  him,  that  which  thou  had'st  from  me, 
To  me  by  Brutus  hath  at  length  been  shown. 
Then  Lcena  once  came  to  us  in  like  sort. 
And  wish'd  that  our  designe  might  prosper  well; 
But  yet  to  haste  did  earnestly  exhort. 
Since  others  told  what  we  refus'd  to  tell. 
Whilst  strangers  rest  familiar  with  our  minde, 
And  ere  we  them,  doe  all  our  purpose  spy, 
Make  forward  fast,  or  we  will  come  behinde : 
"  Fame  (wing'd  with  breath)  doth  violently  flye." 

Brut.  Their  words  but  burst  from  tales  uncertaine 
forth, 


282  Stirling's  Poems, 


i3 


For,  whilst  considering  of  their  bondage  thus, 

Of  CcBsars  tyranny  and  of  our  worth. 

They  thinke  this  should  be  done,  and  done  by  us. 

Such  conjurations  to  confirme  of  old, 

Some  drinking  others  blouds,  swore  on  their  swords, 

And  cursing  those  who  did  their  course  unfold, 

Vs'd  imprecations,  execrable  words; 

And  yet,  then  this,  though  voluntar'ly  vow'd, 

Free  from  all  bonds,  save  that  which  vertue  bindes, 

More  constantly  no  course  was  ere  allow'd, 

Till  that  the  end  must  manifest  our  mindes. 

And  since  so  many  frankely  keep  their  faith, 

What  first  intended  to  accomplish  bent, 

No  doubt  in  spight  of  fickle  fortunes  wrath, 

A  happy  successe  shall  our  soules  content. 

Might  some  few  Thebans  from  the  Spartans  pride, 

By  divers  tyrants  deaths  redeem  their  towne? 

And  one  Athenian  who  his  vertue  try'd, 

By  thirty  tyrants  ruine,  get  renowne"? 

And  to  the  Greekes  are  we  inferiours  growne, 

That  where  they  have  so  many  tyrants  spoil'd, 

There  cannot  one  be  by  us  all  o'rethrowne, 

Whose  state  yet  staggering  may  be  soon  imbroil'd  \ 

I  am  resolv'd,  and  with  my  thoughts  decree. 

What  ever  chance  to  come,  or  sweet,  or  sowre, 

I  shall  my  soile  from  tyranny  set  free, 

Or  then  my  selfe  free  from  the  tyrants  pow'r. 

Dec.  By  Lepidiis  invited  this  last  night, 
Whilst  Ccesar  went  to  suppe,  and  I  with  him, 
Of  all  deaths  shapes  to  talke,  we  tooke  delight, 
So  at  the  table  to  beguile  the  time : 


The  Tragedy  of  Julius  Ccesar.  283 

And  whilst  our  judgements  all  about  were  try'd, 

Straight  CcBsar,  (as  transported)  to  the  rest, 

With  a  most  sudden  exclamation  cry'd : 

O !  of  all  deaths,  unlook'd  for  death  is  best : 

It  from  our  selves  doth  steale  our  selves  so  fast, 

That  even  the  minde  no  fearefuU  forme  can  see. 

Then  is  the  paine  ere  apprehended  past; 

"  Sowre  things  ere  tasted,  would  first  swallowed  be." 

The  threatned  destiny  thus  he  divin'd : 

(It  would  appeare)  divinely  then  inspir'd; 

For,  now  I  hope  that  he  shall  shortly  finde 

That  forme  of  death  which  he  himselfe  desir.'d. 

Cass.  Whilst  of  our  band  the  fury  flames  most  hot, 
And  that  their  will  to  end  this  worke  is  such. 
Lest  Ccesars  absence  disappoint  the  plot, 
Which  would  of  some  abate  the  courage  much ; 
It  {Decius)  were  exceedingly  well  done, 
That  to  his  lodging  you  addrest  your  way, 
Him  by  all  meanes  to  further  forward  soone, 
Lest  him  some  sudden  chance  may  move  to  stay. 

Dec.  There,  where  the  senate  minds  this  day  to  sit, 
Stand  all  prepar'd,  not  fearing  danger  more. 
And  for  the  sacrifice  when  all  is  fit, 
rie  bring  an  offring  hallowed  of  before.  \Exeunt. 


ACT    IV.      SCENE   II. 

Ccesar,  Calphurnia,  Decius  Brutus. 

CcRS.  Long-lookt-for  time  that  should  the  glory  yeeld, 
Which  I  through  Neptunes  trustlesse  raign  have  sought ; 


284  Stirling's  Poems. 

And  through  the  dust  of  many  a  bloudy  field, 

As  by  all  dangers  worthy  to  be  bought. 

Thy  comming  now  those  lowring  shadowes  cleares. 

My  hopes  horizon  which  did  long  o're-cast; 

This  day  defrayes  the  toyles  of  many  yeares, 

And  brings  the  harvest  of  my  labours  past. 

The  senators  a  messenger  have  sent 

Most  earnestly  entreating  me  to  come 

And  heare  my  selfe  discern'd  by  their  consent 

To  weare  a  crowne  o're  all,  excepting  Rome; 

Thus,  they  devise  conditions  at  this  houre 

For  him,  of  whom  Mars  hath  made  them  the  prey, 

As  subjects  limit  could  their  soveraignes  pow'r. 

Who  must  have  minde  of  nought  but  to  obey; 

But  having  pacifi'd  those  present  things, 

I  minde  to  leade  my  valorous  legions  forth 

To  th'  orientall  realmes  (adoring  kings) 

Who  can  afford  all  that  is  due  to  worth. 

Then  swimme  my  thoughts  in  th'  ocean  of  delight. 

Whilst  on  the  pillow  of  soft  praise  repos'd ; 

Those  eyes  to  gaze  upon  my  glories  light, 

AVhich  envy  open'd,  admiration  clos'd. 

Ca/.   Ah,   though  your  fancies   great  contentment 
finde. 
Whilst  thus  the  world  your  vertue  doth  advance; 
Yet  a  prepos'trous  terrour  stings  my  minde, 
And  braggs  me  with  I  know  not  what  mischance; 
My  wavering  hopes  o're-ballanc'd  are  with  feares, 
Which  to  my  soule  sinistrous  signes  impart; 
And  om'nous  rumours  so  assault  mine  eares. 
That  they  almost  make  breaches  in  my  heart. 


The  Tragedy  of  "yiiUus  Cicsar.  285 

C(Es.    What?    do  foil'd  Pojiipeys  floting   followers 
strive 
I'o  recollect  their  ruines  from  the  dust? 
Dare  they  who  onely  by  my  tollerance  live, 
More  to  their  strength,  then  to  my  favour  trust  \ 
Or  do'st  thou  feare  his  sonnes  dejected  state, 
Who  steales  infamous  flying  through  those  flouds, 
Which  his  great  father,  Admirall  of  late, 
Did   plant   with    ships,   till   all    their   waves   seem'd 

woods; 
Or  make  his  brothers  death  his  hopes  grow  more, 
Since  (by  them  straited  in  a  bloudy  strife) 
I  who  in  all  the  battels  given  before, 
Did  fight  for  victory,  then,  fought  for  life ; 
Or,  whilst  to  march  to  Parthia  I  prepare, 
Doth  a  suspition  thus  afflict  thy  sprite : 
By  Crasstis  fortune  mov'd,  who  perish'd  there, 
The  scorned  prey  of  the  barbarians  spight? 
To  those  with  Cassius  who  from  thence  retir'd, 
Amongst  my  bands  a  place  I  will  allow. 
Whose  foes  shall  finde  (bad  fate  at  last  expir'd,) 
Though  the  same  sheep,  another  sheep-heard  now ; 
Doe  not  imagine  matters  to  bemone. 
For,  whilst  there  stands  a  world,  can  Ccesar  fall? 
Though  thousand  thousands  were  conjur'd  in  one, 
I,  and  my  fortune  might  confound  them  all. 

Cat.  No,  none  of  those  my  minde  doth  miscontent, 
Who  undisguis'd  still  like  themselves  remaine : 
Vnlook't-for  harmes  are  hardest  to  prevent : 
There  is  no  guard  against  concealed  disdaine ; 
But,  in  whom  furthur  can  your  trust  repose, 


286  Stirling s  Poems. 

Whom  danger  now  o're  all  by  all  attends? 

"  Where  private  men  but  onely  feare  their  foes. 

"  Oft  kings  have  greatest  cause  to  feare  their  friends; 

"  For,  since  most  trusted,  fittest  to  betray, 

"  Those  unto  whom  ones  favour  force  affords, 

"  Most  dangerous  ambushes  with  ease  may  lay, 

"  Whilst  falsest  hearts  are  hid  with  fairest  words. " 

And  some  report  (though  privately)  yet  plaine, 

That  Dolabella  and  Antoniiis  now, 

By  your  destruction  doe  intend  to  gaine 

That  which  you  keep  by  making  all  men  bow. 

Cczs.  No  corpulent  sanguinians  make  me  feare. 
Who  with  more  paine  their  beards  then  th'  en'mies 

strike, 
And  doe  themselves  like  th'  Epicurians  beare 
To  Bacchus,  Mars,  and  Venus  borne  alike ; 
Their  hearts  doe  alwaies  in  their  mouthes  remaine, 
As  streames   whose  murmuring  showes  their  course 

not  deep, 
Then   still   they  love  to   sport,  though   grosse,   and 

plaine, 
And  never  dream  e  of  ought  but  when  they  sleep : 
But  those  high  sprites  who  hold  their  bodies  downe, 
Whose  visage  leane  their  restlesse  thoughts  records : 
Whilst  they  their  cares  depth  in  their  bosomes  drown, 
I  feare  their  silence  more  then  th'  others  words. 
Thus  Cassius  now  and  Brutus  seeme  to  hold 
Some   great    thing   in   their    minde,    whose   fire   oft 

smoaks ; 
What  Brutus  would,  he  vehemently  would  ; 
Thinke  what  they  list,  I  like  not  their  pale  lookes : 


The  Tragedy  of  ytdius  Ccesar.  287 

Yet  with  their  worth  this  cannot  well  agree, 
In  whom  bright  vertue  seemes  so  much  to  shine : 
Can  those  who  have  receiv'd  their  lives  from  me, 
Prove  so  ingrate,  that  they  doe  thirst  for  mine? 
Dare  Cassius  (match' d  with  me)  new  hopes  conceive 
At  th'  Hellespojit,  who  fortune  durst  not  try, 
And  (like  a  dastard)  did  his  gallies  leave, 
In  all  (save  courage)  though  more  strong  than  I? 
Shall  I  suspect  that  Brutus  seekes  my  bloud, 
Whose  safety  still  I  tendred  with  such  care. 
Who  when  the  heavens  from  mortals  me  seclude, 
Is  onely  worthy  to  be  Casars  heire? 

Cal.  "The  corners  of  the  heart  are  hard  to  know;" 
Though  of  those  two  the  world  the  best  doth  deeme, 
Yet  doe  not  trust  too  much  to  th'  outward  show, 
For,  men  may  differ  much  from  what  they  seeme. 
"  None  oft  more  fierce  then  those  who  look  most  milde, 
"  Impiety  sometime  appeares  devout," 
And  (that  the  world  the  more  may  be  beguil'd) 
"  Even  vice  can  cloath  it  selfe  with  vertues  cote." 
Though  it  would  seem  (all  hatred  now  laid  downe) 
They  on  your  favour  onely  should  depend. 
Yet  no  respect  can  counterpoise  a  crowne : 
"  Ambition  hath  no  bounds,  nor  greed  no  end." 
Mov'd  by  vindictive  hate,  or  emulous  pride. 
Since  some  your  person,  some  your  place  pursue : 
All  threatned  dangers  to  prevent  provide, 
And  use  for  safety,  what  to  state  is  due. 

Cces.  No  armour  is  that  can  hold  treason  out. 

Cal.    To   fright   your   foes  with  bands   be  back'cl 
about. 


288  Stirling's  Poems. 

Cc£s.  So  dastard  tyrants  strive  themselves  to  beare. 

Cal.  It  better  is  to  give,  then  to  take  feare. 

CcBS.  No  guard  more  strong  then  is  the  peoples 
love. 

Cal.  But  nought  in  th'  earth  doth  more  inconstant 
prove. 

CcES.  Guards  (shewing   feare)   to   charge   me  men 
might  tempt. 

Cal.  Guards  would  put  them  from  hope,  you  from 
contempt. 

C(zs.  My  brest  from  terrour  hath  been  alwaies  cleare. 

Cal.  When  one  least  feares,  oft  danger  lurks  most 
neare. 

Cas.  I  rather  dye  then  feare :  at  last  life  goes. 

Cal.  Yet,  death  must  grieve,  when  forc'd  by  vaunting 
foes, 

Ct^s.  I  will  not  crosse  my  present  pleasures  so, 
By  apprehending  what  may  chance  to  come, 
This  world  affords  but  too  much  cause  for  woe ; 
And  sorrowes  still  must  harbour'd  be  by  some. 
By  joyes  in  time  we  must  embrace  reliefe, 
That  when  they  end,  we  in  some  measure  may 
By  their  remembrance  mitigate  the  griefe 
Which  still  attends  all  those  on  th'  earth  that  stay. 
I  thinke  the  senate  is  assembled  now, 
And  for  my  comming  doth  begin  to  gaze, 
Let  me  condignely  once  adorne  my  brow, 
And  feast  mine  eares  by  drinking  in  due  praise. 

Cal.  Stay,  stay  (deare  lord)  retire  thy  steps  againe, 
And  spare  a  space  to  prorogate  whole  yeares ; 
Let  not  this  ominous  day  begin  thy  raigne, 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  CcEsar.  289 

Which  fatall  and  unfortunate  appeares. 

An  astrologian  through  the  world  renown'd, 

Thy  horoscopes  just  calculation  layes, 

And  doth  affirme  (as  he  by  signes  hath  found) 

That  Marches  Ides  doe  bragge  to  bound  thy  dayes; 

Walke  not  abroad  where  harmes  may  be  receiv'd 

(By  great  necessity  since  no  way  forc'd) 

For  (though  his  judgement  may  be  farre  deceiv'd) 

"  In  things  that  touch  thy  life,  suspect  the  worst." 

Cces.  Whilst  I  reform'd  the  calendar  by  fits, 

Which  did  confound  the  order  of  the  yeare; 

I  waded  through  the  depths  of  all  their  wits, 

Who  of  the  starres  the  mysteries  would  cleare. 

Those  pregnant  sprites  who  walke  betwixt  the  poles, 

And  lodge  at  all  the  zodiackes  severall  signes, 

Doe  reade  strange  wonders  wrapt  in  th'  azure  scroules. 

Of  which  our  deeds  are  words,  our  lives  are  lines. 

By  speculation  of  superiour  pow'rs, 

Some  natures  secrets  curious  are  to  know, 

As  how  celestiall  bodies  rule  o're  ours. 

And  what  their  influence  doth  worke  below. 

Yea,  they  sometime  may  brave  conjectures  make 

Of  those  whose  parts  they  by  their  birth  doe  prove, 

Since  naturally  all  inclination  take 

From  planets  then  predominant  above; 

And  yet  no  certainty  can  so  be  had, 

Some  vertuously  against  their  starres  have  striv'd, 

As  Socrates,  who  grew  (though  borne  but  bad) 

The  most  accomplish'd  man  that  ever  liv'd. 

But  of  the  houre  ordain'd  to  close  our  lights, 

No  earth-clog'd  soule  can  to  the  knowledge  come; 
VOL.    II.  u 


290  St iri big's  Poems. 

For,  O !  the  destinies  farre  from  our  sights, 

In  clouds  of  darknesse  have  involv'd  our  doome! 

And  some  but  onely  guesse  at  great  mens  falls. 

By  bearded  comets,  and  prodigious  starres, 

Whose  sight-distracting  shape  the  world  appalls, 

As  still  denouncing  terrour,  death,  or  warres. 

The  time  uncertaine  is  of  certaine  death, 

And  that  fantasticke  man  farre  past  his  bounds : 

"  With    doubt   and   reverence   they   should   manage 

breath, 
"  Who  will  divine  upon  conjectur'd  grounds." 

Cal.  But  this  all  day  hath  prey'd  upon  my  heart, 
And  from  the  same  of  cares  a  tribute  claim'd; 
Doe  not  despise  that  which  I  must  impart, 
Though  but  a  dreame,  and  by  a  woman  dream'd. 
I  thought  (alas)  the  thought  yet  wounds  my  breast. 
Then  whilst  we  both  (as  those  whom  Morpheus  weds) 
Lay  softly  buried  (with  a  pleasant  rest) 
I  in  thy  bosome,  thou  within  the  beds : 
Then  from  my  soule  strange  terrours  did  with-draw 
Th' expected  peace  by  apprehended  harmes; 
For,  I  imagin'd,  no,  no  doubt  I  saw, 
And  did  embrace  thee  bloudy  in  mine  armes. 
Thus  whilst  my  soule  by  sorrowes  was  surcharg'd, 
Of  which  huge  weight  it  yet  some  burden  beares, 
I  big  with  griefe,  two  elements  enlarg'd, 
Th'  ayre  with  my  sighes,  the  water  with  my  teares. 

Cces.  That  which  I  heard,  with  thy  report  accords, 
Whilst  thou  all  seem'd  dissolved  in  griefe  at  once, 
A  heavy  murmuring  made  with  mangled  words. 
Was  interrupted  oft  by  tragicke  grones. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^ alius  Ctesar.  291 

The  memory,  but  not  the  judgement  frames 
Those  raving  fancies  which  disturbe  the  braine, 
Whilst  night  dissolves  all  dayes  designes  in  dreames, 
"  The  senses  sleeping,  soules  would  stirre  in  vame." 
From  superstitious  feares  this  care  proceeds, 
Which  still  would  watch  o're  that  which  thou  dost  love, 
And  in  thy  minde  thus  melancholy  breeds, 
Which  doth  those  strange  imaginations  move. 

Cell.  Ah,  in  so  light  account  leave  off  to  hold 
Those  fatall  warnings,  which  our  mindes  should  leade 
To  search  darke  matters,  till  we  may  unfold 
What  dangers  huge  doe  hang  above  thy  head. 
With  sacred  garlands  he  who  things  divines, 
By  th'  intrails  of  the  consecrated  beast. 
Doth  in  the  offring  see  sinistrous  signes. 
And  I  entreat  thee  doe  not  hence  make  haste. 

Cces.  When  I  in  Spaine  against  yong  Pompey  went, 
Thus,  the  diviner  threatned  me  before, 
Yet  did  I  prosecute  my  first  intent, 
Which  with  new  lawrels  did  my  browes  decore. 

Cal.  And  yet  you  hardly  there  (as  I  doe  heare) 
From  danger  (farre  engag'd)  redeem'd  your  life; 
But  tokens  now  more  monstrous  doe  appeare. 
And  I  suspect  farre  worse  then  open  strife. 

C(2s.  Lest  I  too  much  seeme  wedded  to  my  will, 
(As  others  counsels  scorning  to  allow) 
With  jealous  eyes  I'le  search  about  me  still, 
And  even  mistrust  my  selfe  to  trust  thee  now; 
Yet  if  I  stay,  the  senators  deceiv'd. 
May  my  beginning  straight  begin  to  hate; 
So  might  I  perish,  seeking  to  be  sav'd : 


292  Stirling's  Poevis. 

"  By  flying  it,  some  fall  upon  their  fate." 
But  here  one  comes  who  can  resolve  me  much, 
With  whom  I  use  to  weigh  affaires  of  weight ; 
Whence  com'st  thou  Dccius,  that  thy  haste  is  such? 
Is  ought  occurr'd  that  craves  our  knowledge  straight? 

Dec.  I  come  to  tell  you  how  the  senate  stayes, 
Till  that  your  presence  blesse  their  longing  sight. 
And  to  conclude  what  is  propos'd,  delayes. 
Since  your  applause  can  onely  make  it  right : 
They  your  contentment  to  procure  intend, 
And  all  their  thoughts  seeme  at  one  object  bent, 
Save  that  amongst  themselves  they  doe  contend, 
Who  you  to  please,  shall  rarest  wayes  invent. 

C(ss.  Then  that,  no  treasure  to  my  soule  more  deare. 
Which  to  enjoy  from  hence  I  long  to  part. 
But  yet  I  know  not  what  arrests  me  here, 
And  makes  my  feet  rebellious  to  my  heart; 
From  thee  (deare  friend)  I  never  doe  conceale 
The  weightiest  secrets  that  concerne  me  most; 
And  at  this  time  I  likewise  must  reveale, 
How  heavens  by  signes  me  with  destruction  boast : 
To  superstition  though  not  earst  inclin'd, 
My  wife  by  dreames  doth  now  presage  my  fall. 
It  a  sooth-sayer  likewise  hath  divin'd: 
The  sacrifice  prodigious  seemes  to  all, 
So  that  till  this  disastrous  day  be  gone, 
All  company  I  purpose  to  disuse. 
And  to  the  senators  will  send  some  one. 
To  paint  my  absence  with  a  faire  excuse. 

Dec.  Doe  not  repose  on  superstitious  signes. 
You  to  suspect  the  people  thus  to  bring. 


The  Tragedy  of  'y id  ins  Ccesar.  293 

Whilst  soveraigne-like  you  limit  their  designes, 

Seeme  not  a  tyrant,  seeking  to  be  king  : 

How  can  we  satisfie  the  worlds  conceit, 

Whose  tongue  still  in  all  eares  your  praise  proclaimes  '{ 

Or  shall  we  bid  them  leave  to  deale  in  state, 

Till  that  Calphurnia  first  have  better  dreames  % 

If  that  this  day  you  private  would  remaine, 

The  senate  to  dissolve  your  selfe  must  goe, 

And  then  incontinent  come  backe  againe, 

When  you  have  showne  to  it  some  reverence  so. 

Cces.  With  thy  advise  (as  pow'rfull)  I  agree, 
The  senatours  shall  have  no  cause  to  grudge  : 
A  little  space,  all  part  a  space  from  me, 
And  I'le  be  shortly  ready  to  dislodge. 

Ccesar  alone. 

Whence  comes  this  huge  and  admirable  change, 
That  in  my  brest  hath  uncouth  thoughts  infus'd, 
Doth  th'  earth  then  earst   yeeld   terrors  now   more 

strange, 
Or  but  my  minde  lesse  courage  then  it  us'd  1 
What  spightfuU  fate  against  my  state  contends, 
That  I  must  now  to  fancied  plagues  give  place, 
By  foes  not  mov'd,  afraid  amongst  my  friends, 
By  warre  secure,  endanger'd  but  by  peace  ? 
When  strongest  troopes  to  fight  with  me  did  come. 
Then  did  my  heart  the  highest  hopes  conceive, 
I  warr'd  with  many,  many  to  o'recome  ; 
The  greatest  battels,  greatest  glory  gave. 
As  th'  enemies  numbers,  still  my  courage  grew  ; 


2  94  Stirlhig^s  Poems. 

Through  depths  of  dangers  oft  times  have  I  past, 

Yet  never  did  those  boundlesse  labours  rue, 

To  have  none  greater  first,  none  equall  last: 

When  bragging  Gauls  mov'd  by  their  neighbours  fals, 

Had  from  the  fields,  no,  from  my  fury  fled ; 

And    hid   themselves  with  armes,   their   armes  with 

walles, 
Whilst  I  my  troupes  before  Alexia  led  ; 
Then,   though  there  swarm'd  forth  from  the  bounds 

about, 
Huge  hosts  to  compasse  me  enflam'd  with  wrath, 
That  the  besiegers  (all  besieg'd  about,) 
Seem'd  drawne  by  danger  in  the  nets  of  death. 
No  way  I  who  could  with  the  pride  comport. 
That  those  barbarians  by  vaine  vaunts  bewray'd. 
Did  re-assault  th'  assaulters  in  such  sort, 
That  words  by  wounds,  wounds  were  by  death  re- 

pay'd. 
Of  those  within  the  towne  (to  ease  their  toyles) 
Till  quite  o'recom'd,  their  comming  was  not  knowne, 
Who  straight  (upbraided  by  the  barb'rous  spoiles) 
Did  yeeld  themselves,  as  if  with  them  o'rethrowne. 
By  liquid  legions  whilst  with  tumid  boasts 
The  trident-bearer  striv'd  my  spoiles  to  beare; 
Though  threatned  thrise  amid'st  his  humid  hosts, 
Still  courage  scorn'd  to  thinke  of  abject  feare. 
I  us'd  those  pyrats  who  had  me  deceiv'd, 
Still  as  my  servants  (thundring  threatnings  forth) 
And  gave  them  money  more  then  they  had  crav'd, 
Whose  ignorance  too  meanely  priz'd  my  worth : 
Yet  gathering  ships,  I  stay'd  not  long  a  shore, 


The  Tragedy  of  Julius  Ccesar.  295 

But  trac'd  their  steps,  though  they  not  pav'd  the  way, 

And  taking  them  (as  I  had  vow'd  before) 

By  nought  but  death  their  ransome  would  defray; 

Then  when  (without  th'  advice  of  others  mindes) 

Through  hoary  waves  I  past  alone  by  night, 

Whilst  in  a  little  barke  against  great  windes, 

That  even  the  pilot  look't  not  for  the  light; 

The  waves  themselves  asunder  seem'd  to  teare, 

That  in  their  gravell  I  might  chuse  a  grave, 

And  crystall  arches  did  above  me  reare, 

That  I  a  tombe  fit  for  my  state  might  have. 

Whilst  dangers  seem'd  to  merit  Ccssars  death, 

As  Neptune  rais'd  his  head,  I  rais'd  my  heart; 

And  shewing  what  I  was  with  constant  breath, 

To  weake  Amiclas  courage  did  impart. 

Was  I  not  once  amid'st  large  Nilus  flote. 

Whilst  me  to  wound,  a  wood  of  darts  did  flye. 

Yet  swim'd  so  carelesse  of  my  enemies  shot, 

That  in  my  hand  I  held  some  papers  dry"? 

With  open  dangers  thus  in  every  place, 

I  (whilst  oft  compass'd  both  by  sea  and  land,) 

Did  undismay'd  looke  horrour  in  the  face. 

As  borne  for  nought,  but  onely  to  command. 

But  since  a  world  of  victories  have  filled 

With  trophees  temples,  theaters  with  my  praise, 

That   bath'd   with   balme   which   glories    bayes    had 

still'd, 
With  friends  in  peace,  I  look'd  to  spend  my  dayes; 
The  chambers  musicke  now  afrights  me  more, 
Then  trumpets  sounds  when  marching  in  the  field, 
And  gowns  (though  signes  of  peace)  worse  then  before 


296  Stirling'' s  Poems. 

The  pompous  splendour  of  a  flaming  shield. 

Those  thoughts  of  late  which  had  disdain'd  to  doubt, 

Though  I  alone  had  march'd  amongst  my  foes, 

Loe,  whilst  amongst  my  friends  well  back'd  about, 

They,  then  the  eyes  more  danger  now  disclose. 

If  any  chance,  to  meet  a  number  brings, 

I  insurrections  feare  from  common  wrath, 

Yea,  if  two  talke  a  part  of  private  things, 

Straight  I  suspect  that  they  conspire  my  death; 

When  sudden  rumours  rise  from  vulgar  smoake ; 

(Whilst  th'  inward  motions  roule  my  restlesse  eyes,) 

I  at  each  corner  for  an  ambush  looke. 

And  start  astonish'd,  lest  some  tumult  rise. 

When  light  (first  lightning)  doth  encourage  toyles, 

I  still  despaire  to  re-enjoy  the  night, 

And  when  mine  eyes  th'  umbragious  darkenesse  spoils, 

I  never  looke  to  grace  them  with  the  light; 

For,  when  the  light  with  shadowes  makes  a  change, 

To  flatter  mortals  with  a  dreame  of  rest, 

What  ugly  gorgons,  what  chimera's  strange 

Doe  bragge  the  little  world  within  my  brest  1 

The  time  which  should  appease  impetuous  cares, 

Doth  double  mine,  who  view  most  when  quite  blinde; 

I  apprehend  huge  horrours  and  despaires. 

Whilst  th' outward  objects  not  distract  my  minde: 

Now  of  my  conquests  what  delight  remaines"? 

Where  is  the  peace  pursu'd  by  many  a  strife'? 

Have  I  but  taken  paine  to  purchase  painesi 

And  sought  by  dangers  for  a  dangerous  life? 

Is  this  the  period  of  aspiring  pow'rs, 

In  promis'd  calmes  to  be  most  plagu'd  by  stormes.' 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  Ccesar.  297 

Lurke  poys'nous  serpents  under  fairest  flow'rs, 

And  hellish  furies  under  heavenly  formes] 

It  will  not  grieve  my  ghost  below  to  goe, 

If  circumvented  in  the  warres  I  end, 

As  bold  Marcellus  by  Romes  greatest  foe, 

Who  gave  his  ashes  honour  as  a  friend; 

Or  like  t'  Epammondas  in  his  death, 

O !  would  the  gods  I  had  amidst  alarmes, 

When  charg'd  with  recent   spoiles,  been    spoil'd   of 

breath, 
Whilst  I  to  Pluto  might  have  march'd  in  armes; 
Yet,  life  to  end,  which  nought  but  toyles  affords, 
I'le  pay  to  death  the  tribute  that  it  owes ; 
Straight  with  my  bloud,    let    some   come   dye  their 

swords. 
Whose  naked  brest  encounter  shall  their  blowes : 
But  ah !  how  have  the  furies  seaz'd  my  brest, 
And  poyson'd  thus  my  sprite  with  desp'rate  rage  I 
By  horrid  serpents  whilst  quite  barr'd  from  rest, 
No  kinde  of  comfort  can  my  cares  asswage ; 
No,  Atropos,  yet  spare  my  threed  a  space, 
That  to  the  stygian  streames  ere  walking  downe, 
I  may  of  honour  have  the  highest  place, 
And  if  I  fall,  yet  fall  beneath  a  crovvne. 
Whilst  eares  are  bended  to  applauding  shouts, 
My  thoughts  divided  are  within  my  brest. 
And  my  toss'd  soule  doth  flote  between  two  doubts. 
Yet  knowes  not  on  what  ground  to  build  her  rest. 
The  senators,  they  have  this  day  design'd. 
To  shew  the  world  how  they  esteeme  my  worth; 
Yet  doe  portentuous  signes  perturbe  my  minde, 


298  Stirling's  Poems. 

By  which  the  heavens  would  point  my  danger  forth : 
The  gods  from  me  with  indignation  gone, 
In  every  thing  charact'red  have  my  death : 
And  must  both  heaven  and  earth  conspire  in  one, 
To  quench  a  Httle  sparke  of  smoaking  breath? 
My  safety  would  that  I  should  stay  within 
Till  this  disastrous  day  gave  darkenesse  place. 
But  daring  honour  would  have  me  begin 
To  reape  the  glory  of  my  painefuU  race. 
And  rie  advance  in  spight  of  threatned  broyles, 
For,  though  the  fates  accomplish  what  we  dreame, 
When  onely  death  hath  triumph'd  of  my  spoyles, 
I  then  (though  breathlesse)  still  shall    breathe  with 
fame.  [Exit. 

Chorus. 

What  fury  thus  doth  fill  the  brest 

With  a  prodigious  rash  desire, 

Which  banishing  their  soules  from  rest, 

Doth  make  them  live  who  high  aspire, 

(Whilst  it  within  their  bosome  boyles) 

As  salamanders  in  the  fire; 

Or  like  to  serpents  changing. spoyles, 

Their  wither'd  beauties  to  renew? 

Like  vipers  with  unnaturall  toyles. 

Of  such  the  thoughts  themselves  pursue, 

Who  for  all  lines  their  lives  doe  square, 

Whilst  like  caraelions  changing  hue, 

They  onely  feed  on  empty  ayre : 

"  To  passe  ambition  greatest  matters  brings. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^idius  Ccesar.  299 

"  And  (save  contentment)  can  attaine  all  things." 

This  active  passion  doth  disdaine 

To  match  with  any  vulgar  minde, 

As  in  base  breasts  where  terrours  raigne, 

Too  great  a  guest  to  be  confin'd ; 

It  doth  but  lofty  thoughts  frequent, 

Where  it  a  spatious  field  may  finde, 

It  selfe  with  honour  to  content, 

Where  reverenc'd  fame  doth  lowdest  sound; 

Those  for  great  things  by  courage  bent, 

(Farre  lifted  from  this  lumpish  round) 

Would  in  the  sphere  of  glory  move, 

Whilst  lofty  thoughts  which  nought  can  binde, 

All  rivals  live  in  vertues  love; 

"  On  abject  preyes  as  th'  eagles  never  light, 

"  Ambition  poysons  but  the  greatest  sprite," 

And  of  this  restlesse  vultures  brood, 

(If  not  become  too  great  a  flame) 

A  little  sparke  doth  sometime  good. 

Which  makes  great  mindes  (affecting  fame) 

To  suffer  still  all  kinde  of  paine : 

Their  fortune  at  the  bloudy  game, 

Who  hazard  would  for  hope  of  gaine, 

Vnlesse  first  burn'd  by  thirst  of  praised 

The  learned  to  a  higher  straine, 

Their  wits  by  emulation  raise, 

As  those  who  hold  applauses  deare; 

And  what  great  minde  at  which  men  gaze, 

It  selfe  can  of  ambition  cleare. 

Which  is  when  valu'd  at  the  highest  price, 

A  generous  errour,  an  heroicke  vice  1 


300  Stirling's  Poems. 

But  when  this  frenzie  flaming  bright, 

Doth  so  the  soules  of  some  surprise, 

That  they  can  taste  of  no  deHght, 

But  what  from  soveraignty  doth  rise, 

Then,  huge  affliction  it  affords; 

Such  must  (themselves  so  to  disguise) 

Prove  prodigall  of  courteous  words, 

Give  much  to  some,  and  promise  all, 

Then  humble  seeme  to  be  made  lords. 

Yea,  being  thus  to  many  thrall. 

Must  words  impart,  if  not  support; 

To  those  who  crush' d  by  fortune  fall; 

And  grieve  themselves  to  please  each  sort : 

"  Are  not  those  wretch'd,  who  o're  a  dangerous 

snare, 
"  Do  hang  by  hopes,  whilst  ballanc'd  in  the  ayre;" 
Then  when  they  have  the  port  attain'd. 
Which  was  through  seas  of  dangers  fought, 
They  (loe)  at  last  but  losse  have  gain'd, 
And  by  great  trouble,  trouble  bought : 
Their  mindes  are  married  still  with  feares. 
To  bring  forth  many  a  jealous  thought; 
With  searching  eyes,  and  watching  eares. 
To  learne  that  which  it  grieves  to  know, 
The  brest  that  such  a  burden  beares, 
What  huge  afflictions  doe  o'rethrowl 
Thus  each  prince  is  (as  all  perceive) 
No  more  exalted  then  brought  low, 
"  Of  many  lord,  of  many,  slave ; 
"  That  idoU  greatnesse  which  th'  earth  doth  adore, 
"  Is  gotten  with  great  paine,  and  kept  with  more :" 


The  Tragedy  of  y^ulius  Ccesai-.  30 1 

He  who  to  this  imagin'd  good, 

Did  through  his  countries  bowels  tend, 

Neglecting  friendship,  duty,  bloud. 

And  all  on  which  trust  can  depend. 

Or  by  which  love  could  be  conceiv'd, 

Doth  finde  of  what  he  did  attend, 

His  expectations  farre  deceiv'd ; 

For,  since  suspecting  secret  snares. 

His  soule  hath  still  of  rest  beene  reav'd, 

Whilst  squadrons  of  tumultuous  cares, 

Forth  from  his  brest  extort  deep  grones : 

Thus  Ccesar  now  of  life  despaires, 

Whose  lot  his  hope  exceeded  once; 

And  who  can  long  well  keep  an  ill  wonne  state  ? 

"  Those  perish  must  by  some  whom  all  men  hate." 


ACT   V.      SCENE    I. 

Marcus  Brutus,  Chorus,  A?ito?iius,  Caius  Cassius, 
Marcus  Tullius  Cicero. 

Brut.  Are  generous  Rotnans  so  degener'd  now, 
That  they  from  honour  have  estrang'd  their  hands] 
And,  us'd  with  burdens,  do  not  blush  to  bow. 
Yea  (even  though  broken)  shake  not  off  their  bands ; 
This  glorious  worke  was  worthy  of  your  paine, 
Which  now  ye  may  by  others  dangers  have ; 
But  what  enchaunts  you  thus,  that  ye  abstaine 
That  which  ye  should  have  taken,  to  receive? 
Where  be  those  inundations  of  delight, 


302  S^if'/ing's  Poems. 

Which  should  burst  out  from  thoughts  o'reflow'd  with 

joy, 
Whil'st  emulous  vertue  may  your  mindes  incite, 
That  which  we  give  you  bravely  to  enjoy; 
Or  quite  conform'd  unto  your  former  state, 
Do  still  your  mindes  of  servitude  allow, 
As  broken  by  adversitie  of  late, 
Not  capable  of  better  fortune  now^ 
Loe,  we  who  by  the  tyrants  favour  stood. 
And  griev'd  but  at  the  yoke  which  you  outrag'd, 
Have  our  advancement,  riches,  rest,  and  bloud, 
All  liberally  for  liberty  engag'd. 

C/ior.  Thou  like  thy  great  progenitour  in  this, 
Hast  glory  to  thy  selfe,  t'  us  freedome  brought ; 
"  Then  liberty  what  greater  treasure  is"? 
"  Ought  with  it  much,  without  it  much  seemes  nought :" 
But  pardon  us  (heroicke  man)  though  we 
To  high  perfection  hardly  can  aspire. 
Though  every  man  cannot  a  Brutus  be, 
"  What  none  can  imitate,  all  must  admire." 
At  this  strange  course  (with  too  much  light  made  blinde) 
We  our  opinions  must  suspend  a  space, 
"  When  sudden  chances  do  dismay  the  minde, 
"  The  iudgement  to  the  passion  first  gives  place." 

Ant.  What  wonder  now  though  this  most  barbarous 
deed 
Have  with  amazement  clos'd  your  judgement  in. 
Which  O  (I  feare)  shall  great  confusion  breed? 
When  CcBsars  toyls  did  end,  Romes  did  begin : 
The  most  suspitious  mindes  had  not  beleev'd, 
That  Romans  reverenc'd  for  their  worth  by  us. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^ulius  Ccesar.  303 

Would  have  presum'd  to  kill,  or  to  have  griev'd 

An  hallow'd  body  inhumanely  thus; 

Who  would  have  once  but  dream'd  of  such  despighf? 

What  strange  hostilitie !  in  time  of  peace 

To  kill,  though  not  accus'd,  against  all  right, 

A  sacred  man,  and  in  a  sacred  place? 

Cass.  If  Ccesar  as  a  citizen  had  liv'd, 
And  had  by  law  decided  every  strife, 
Then  I  would  grant  those  treason  had  contriv'd, 
Who  went  without  a  law  to  take  his  life; 
But  to  pervert  the  laws,  subvert  the  state, 
If  all  his  travels  did  directly  tend, 
Then  I  must  say,  we  did  no  wrong  of  late : 
"Why  should  not  tyrants  make  a  tragicke  end?" 

Cho.  Since  destinies  did  Ca:sars  soule  enlarge, 
What  course  can  we  for  his  recovery  take? 
Ah !  th'  unrelenting  Charons  restlesse  barge 
Stands  to  transport  all  o're,  but  brings  none  back : 
"  Of  lifes  fraile  glasse  (when  broken)  with  vaine  grones, 
"  What  earthly  power  the  ruines  can  repaire ; 
"  Or  who  can  gather  up,  when  scattred  once, 
"  Ones  bloud  from  th'  earth,  or  yet  his  breath  from 

th'ayre?" 
Let  us  of  those  who  passe  oblivions  floud 
Oblivious  be,  since  hope  of  help  is  gone. 
And  spend  our  cares  where  cares  may  do  most  good, 
Lest  Rome  waile  many,  where  she  wailes  but  one. 

Aiit.  Still  concord  for  the  common-weale  were  best, 
To  reconcile  divided  thoughts  againe  : 
"  Then  discord  to  great  townes,  no  greater  pest," 
Whose  violence  no  reverence  can  restraine. 


304  SUf'/ing's  Poems. 

Yet  often-times  those  warie  wits  have  err'd, 
Who  would  buy  wealth  and  ease  at  any  cost : 
"  Let  honesty  to  profit  be  preferr'd, 
"  And  to  vile  peace  warre  when  it  wounds  us  most;" 
But  seeking  peace,  what  surety  can  we  finde? 
Can  faithlesse  men  give  faith,  just  feares  to  stay? 
"  No  sacred  band  impiety  can  binde, 
"Which  sweares  for  trust,  seeks  trust  but  to  betray;" 
What  help'd  it  Cissar,  that  we  all  had  sworne 
His  body  still  from  dangers  to  redeeme '? 
"  Those  who  are  once  perjur'd,  hold  oaths  in  scorne? 
"  All  are  most  franke  of  what  they  least  esteeme. 
Brut  None  needs  in  states  which  are  from  tyrants 
free, 
Loath'd  execrations  to  confirme  his  will, 
Where  willingly  men  would  with  good  agree, 
And  without  danger  might  despise  all  ill; 
All  odious  oaths  by  those  are  onely  crav'd, 
Whose  suit  from  reason  doth  a  warrant  want, 
Whil'st  who  deceive  (afifraid  to  be  deceiv'd) 
Seek  of  men  thrall'd,  what  none  whil'st  free  would 

grant. 
When  Ccesar  had  prevail'd  in  France  and  Spaine, 
His  fortune  building  on  his  countries  wracke, 
(Of  liberty  a  shadow  to  retaine) 
We  gave  him  all  that  he  was  bent  to  take. 
The  Senate  had  reserv'd  nought  but  a  show 
Whose  course  to  it  by  Ccesar  was  impos'd. 
Who  lifted  up,  by  bringing  others  low, 
Of  offices,  and  provinces  dispos'd : 
Then  that  our  faded  hopes  might  never  spring, 


The  Tragedy  of  'Julius  Ccesar.  305 

When  bent  to  try  the  Parthians  wooden  showre, 
He  for  five  yeares  dispos'd  of  every  thing, 
Even  in  his  absence  leaving  us  no  pow'r. 
O  how  some  aggravate  our  deed  with  hate! 
Who  durst  his  body  wound,  or  with  bloud  staine, 
Though  consecrated  by  constraint  of  late. 
Yea,  but  reputed  holy,  yet  prophaine, 
And  did  forget  how  he  (a  wondrous  case) 
The  tribuneship  did  violate  with  scorne. 
Which  our  fore-fathers  (free)  in  time  of  peace 
Advis'dly  had  inviolable  sworne. 
Did  he  not  once  appropriate  (swolne  with  wrath) 
The  publike  treasure  to  his  private  use? 
And  to  the  tribune  boldly  threatned  death, 
Who  did  resist,  griev'd  at  that  great  abuse. 
Twixt  Romans  and  a  tyrant  what  availes 
A  covenant  whil'st  right  rests  trod  on  thus? 
"  Who  can  build  further  when  the  ground  once  fails?" 
Could  we  save  him  who  sought  to  ruine  us? 
Cic.  So  absolutely  good  no  man  remaines, 
Whose  natural!  weaknesse  may  not  him  o're-come; 
"  Even  vertues  dye  from  vice  may  take  some  staines, 
"  And  worthy  minds  may  of  grosse  faults  have  some : 
"  As  in  fine  fruits,  or  weeds,  fat  earth  abounds, 
"  Even  as  the  labourers  spend,  or  spaire  their  paine, 
"  The  greatest  sprits  (disdaining  vulgar  bounds) 
"  Of  what  they  seek  the  highest  height  must  gaine ; 
"  They  (that  bright  glory  may  be  so  enjoy'd) 
"  As  onely  borne  to  be  in  action  still, 
"  Had  rather  be  (then  idle)  ill  imploy'd : 
"  Great  sprits  must  do  great  good,  or  then  great  ill;" 

VOL.    II.  X 


3o6  Stirling's  Poems. 

The  worlds   chiefe   treasure  which   bright   rayes   do 

arme, 
Huge  evill  procur'd  (though  onely  fram'd  for  good) 
Till  that  fond  youth  whom  his  owne  wish  did  harme, 
Was  kill'd  by  fire,  and  buried  in  a  floud. 
By  rules  of  reason  whil'st  he  rightly  liv'd, 
When  lawfully  elected  by  the  state, 
What  glorious  deeds  by  CcEsar  were  atchiev'd, 
Which  all  the  world  as  wonders  must  relate? 
But  when  of  right  he  buried  all  respects, 
(As  blinde  ambition  had  bewitch' d  his  minde) 
What  harme  ensu'd,  by  pitifuU  effects, 
We  at  the  first,  he  at  the  last  did  finde; 
Whil'st  like  Narcissus  with  himselfe  in  love, 
He  with  our  bondage  banqueted  his  sight, 
And  for  a  while  (uncertaine  joyes  to  prove) 
With  all  our  woes  would  sweeten  his  delight; 
How  could  brave  men  (with  vertuous  mindes)  as  those 
Who  of  their  countries  weale  are  jealous  still. 
But  stoutly  to  all  stormes  their  states  expose, 
The  states  destroyer  resolute  to  kill? 
But  since  our  freedome  flows  from  CcEsars  bloud, 
Let  us  embrace  that  which  too  long  we  lack : 
"  Peace  gives  to  justice  pow'r,  it,  to  all  good, 
"  Where  wane  breeds  wrong,  and  wrong  all  kinde  of 

wracke." 
This  citie  hath  experienc'd  with  great  paine. 
What  guilty  troubles  rise  from  civill  strife. 
Which  by  her  ruines  registred  remaine, 
Since  first  the  Gracchi  gave  contention  life. 
When  Scilla  once,  and  Marius  (mad  through  pride)     , 


The  Tragedy  of  yulius  CcBsar.  307 

Did  strive  who  should  the  most  tyrannicke  prove, 

What  memorable  miseries  were  try'd, 

From  Romans  mindes  no  time  can  e're  remove? 

Then  last  by  Cczsar,  and  his  sonne  in  law, 

What  thousands  ghosts  to  Pluto  were  dispatch'd  ? 

Ah !  that  the  world  those  hosts  divided  saw, 

Which,  joyn'd  in  one,  no  world  of  worlds  had  match'd  :. 

Yet  with  this  wit  which  we  have  dearly  bought, 

Let  us  abhorre  all  that  may  breed  such  broils, 

Lest  when  we  have  our  selves  to  ruine  brought, 

In  end  Barbarians  beare  away  our  spoyls. 

Cho.  Rome  to  those  great  men  hardly  can  afiford 
A  recompence,  according  to  their  worth, 
Who  (by  a  tyrants  o're-throw)  have  restor'd 
The  light  of  liberty  which  was  put  forth; 
Yet  (by  due  praises  with  their  merits  even) 
Let  us  acknowledge  their  illustrious  mindes ; 
And  to  their  charge  let  provinces  be  given : 
"  Still  vertue  grows,  when  it  preferrement  findes." 

Ant.  Those  barbarous  realms  by  whose  respective 
will, 
Of  Ccesars  conquests  monuments  are  showne : 
As  if  they  held  them  highly  honour'd  still, 
Who  warr'd  with  desar  though  they  were  o'erthrown, 
Can  this  disgrace  by  their  proud  mindes  be  borne, 
Whil'st  we  dishonour,  whom  they  honour  thus  ? 
And  shall  we  not  (whil'st  as  a  tyrant  tome) 
Give  him  a  tombe,  who  gave  the  world  to  us? 
Must  his  decrees  be  all  reduc'd  againe, 
And  those  degraded  whom  he  grac'd  of  late, 
As  worthy  men  unworthily  did  gaine 


3o8  Stirling's  Poems. 

Their  roomes  of  reputation  in  the  state  ] 
As  if  a  tyrant  we  him  damne  so  soone, 
And  for  his  murd'rers  do  rewards  devise, 
Then  what  he  did,  must  Ukewise  be  undone, 
For  which  I  feare,  a  foule  confusion  rise. 

Cho.  Ah  !  (brave  Antonius)  sow  not  seeds  of  warre, 
And  if  thou  alwayes  do'st  dehght  in  armes, 
The  haughty  Parthians  yet  undaunted  are, 
Which  may  give  thee  great  praise,  and  us  no  harmes. 
Detest  in  time  th'  abhominable  broils, 
For  which  no  conquerour  to  triumph  hath  com'd, 
Whil'st  this  wretch'd  towne  (which  still  some  party 

spoils) 
Must  loath  the  victor,  and  lament  th'  o're-com'd  : 
And  shall  we  still  contend  against  all  good. 
To  make  the  yoke  where  we  should  bound  abide? 
Must  still  the  commons  sacrifize  their  bloud, 
As  onely  borne  to  serve  the  great  mens  pride? 

Ant.  Whil'st  I  the  depths  of  my  affection  sound. 
And  reade  but  th'  obligations  which  I  owe, 
I  finde  my  selfe  by  oaths,  and  duty  bound, 
All  Ccssars  foes,  or  then  my  selfe  t' ore-throw. 
But  when  I  weigh  what  to  the  state  belongs. 
The  which  to  plague  no  passion  shall  get  place. 
Then  I  with  griefe  digesting  private  wrongs, 
Warre  with  my  selfe  to  give  my  countrey  peace. 
Yet  whil'st  my  thoughts  of  this  last  purpose  muse, 
I  altogether  dis-assent  from  this. 
That  CcBsars  fame,  or  body  we  abuse. 
To  deale  with  tyrants  as  the  custome  is. 
Lest  guilty  of  ingratitude  we  seeme. 


The  Tragedy  of  y alius  Ccesar.  309 

(If  guerdoning  our  benefactors  thus) 

Great  Ccesars  body  from  disgrace  redeeme, 

And  let  his  acts  be  ratified  by  us. 

Then  for  the  pubhke-weale  which  makes  us  pause, 

Towards  those  that  have  him  kill'd  t'extend  regard, 

Let  them  be  pardon'd  for  their  kinsmens  cause : 

"  Remission  given  for  evill  is  a  reward." 

Cass.  We  stand  not  vex'd  like  malefactors  here, 
With  a  dejected  and  remorsefuU  minde, 
So  in  your  presence  supplicants  t'appeare, 
As  who  themselves  of  death  do  guilty  finde ; 
But  looking  boldly  with  a  loftie  brow, 
Through  a  delight  of  our  designe  conceiv'd, 
We  come  to  challenge  gratefulnesse  of  you, 
That  have  of  us  so  great  a  good  receiv'd. 
But  if  you  will  suspend  your  thoughts  a  space, 
Though  not  the  givers,  entertaine  the  gift; 
Do  us  reject,  yet  liberty  embrace: 
To  have  you  free  (loe)  that  was  all  our  drift. 
So  Rome  her  ancient  liberties  enjoy. 
Let  Brutus  and  let  Cassius  banish' st  live  ; 
Thus  banishment  would  breed  us  greater  joy, 
Then  what  at  home  a  tyrants  wealth  could  give. 
Though  some  misconstrue  may  this  course  of  ours. 
By  ignorance,  or  then  by  hate  deceiv'd; 
"  The  truth  depends  not  on  opinions  pow'rs, 
"  But  is  it  selfe,  how  ever  misconceiv'd." 
Though  to  acknowledge  us,  not  one  would  daigne. 
Our  merit  of  it  selfe  is  a  reward, 
"  Of  doing  good  none  should  repent  their  paine, 
"  Though  they  get  no  reward,  nor  yet  regard." 


3IO  Stirling's  Poems. 

I  'le  venture  yet  my  fortune  in  the  field, 
With  every  one  that  Rome  to  bondage  draws; 
And  as  for  me,  how  ever  others  yeeld, 
I  'le  nought  obey,  but  reason,  and  the  laws. 

Cic.  What  fools  are  those  who  further  travell  take, 
For  that  which  they  even  past  recovery  know  I 
Who  can  revive  the  dead,  or  bring  time  backl 
That  can  no  creature  who  doth  live  below. 
Great  Pompey  (now)  for  whom  the  world  still  weeps, 
Lyes  low,  neglected  on  a  barbarous  shore; 
Selfe-slaughtered  Scipio  flotes  amidst  the  deeps, 
Whom,  it  may  be,  sea-monsters  do  devoure. 
Of  Libyan  wolves  grave  Cato  feasts  the  wombes, 
Whose  death,  of  worth  the  world  defrauded  leaves ; 
Thus  some  that  did  deserve  Maiisokan  tombes. 
Have  not  a  title  grav'd  upon  their  graves. 
And  yet  may  Ccesar  who  procur'd  their  death. 
By  brave  men  slaine  be  buried  with  his  race; 
All  civill  warre  quite  banish'd  with  his  breath, 
Let  him  now  dead,  and  us  alive  have  peace. 
"  We  should  desist  our  thoughts  on  things  to  set, 
"  Which  may  harme  some,  and  can  give  help  to  none, 
"  Learne  to  forget  that  which  we  cannot  get, 
"  And  let  our  cares  be  gone  of  all  things  gone. 
"  Those  who  would  strive  all  crosses  to  o're-come, 
"  To  present  times  must  still  conforme  their  course, 
"  And  making  way  for  that  which  is  to  come, 
"  Not  medle  with  things  past,  but  by  discourse. 
"  Let  none  seek  that  which  doth  no  good  when  found;" 
Since  Ccesar  now  is  dead,  how  ever  dead ; 
Let  all  our  griefe  go  with  him  to  the  ground, 


The  Tragedy  of  yidius  Ccesar.  3 1 1 

For,  sorrow  best  becomes  a  lightlesse  shade; 
It  were  the  best,  that  joyn'd  in  mutuall  love, 
We  physicke  for  this  wounded  state  prepare : 
"  Neglecting  those  who  from  the  world  remove, 
"All  men  on  earth  for  earthly  things  must  care." 

Cho.  O  how  those  great  men  friendship  can  pretend, 
By  soothing  others  thus  with  painted  windes ; 
And  seeme  to  trust,  where  treason  they  attend, 
Whilst  love  their  mouth,  and  malice  fills  their  mindes ; 
Those  but  to  them  poore  simple  soules  appeare, 
Whose  count' nance  doth  discover  what  they  thinke, 
Who  make  their  words,  as  is  their  meaning,  cleare, 
And  from  themselves  can  never  seeme  to  shrinke. 
Loe,  how  Antonius   faines  to  quench  all  jarres, 
And  whom  he  hates  with  kindnesse  doth  embrace. 
But  as  he  further'd  first  the  former  warres, 
Some  feare  he  still  will  prove  a  foe  to  peace. 
Now  where  Calphurnia  stayes  our  steppes  addresse. 
Since  by  this  sudden  chance  her  losse  was  chiefe. 
"  All  visite  should  their  neighbours  in  distresse, 
"  To  give  some  comfort,  or  to  share  in  griefe." 


ACT  V.      SCENE    II. 

Calphurnia^  Nwitius,  Chorus. 

Cal.  When  darkenesse  last  imprisoned  had  myne 
eyes, 
Such  monstrous  visions  did  my  heart  affright, 
That  (quite  dejected)  it  as  stupid  dies 
Through  terrours  then  contracted  in  the  night; 


312  Stirling's  Poems. 

A  melancholy  cloud  so  dimmes  my  brest, 

That  it  my  mind  fit  for  misfortune  makes, 

A  lodging  well  dispos'd  for  such  a  guest, 

Where  nought  of  sorrow  but  th'  impression  lackes; 

And  I  imagine  every  man  I  see 

(My  senses  so  corrupted  are  by  feares) 

A  herauld  to  denounce  mishaps  to  me. 

Who  should  infuse  confusion  in  my  eares. 

O !  there  he  comes  to  violate  my  peace, 

In  whom  the  object  of  my  thoughts  I  see; 

Thy  message  is  charactred  in  thy  face, 

And  by  thy  lookes  directed  is  to  me : 

Thy  troubled  eyes  rest  rowling  for  reliefe, 

As  lately  frighted  by  some  uglie  sight ; 

Thy  breath  doth  pant  as  if  growne  big  with  griefe, 

And  straight  to  bring  some  monstrous  birth  to  light. 

Nun.  The  man  of  whom  the  world  in  doubt  remain'd. 
If  that  his  minde  or  fortune  was  more  great, 
Whose  valour  conquer'd,  clemencie  retain'd 
All  nations  subject  to  the  Romane  State; 
Fraud  harra'd  him  more  then  force,  friends  more  then 

foes; 
Ah!  must  this  sad  discourse  by  me  be  made? 

Cal.  Stay,  ere  thou  further  goe  defray  my  woes. 
How  doth  my  lovel  where  is  my  life! 

Nuti.  Dead. 

Cal.  Dead? 

Cho.  Though  apprehending  horrours  in  her  minde, 
Now  since  she  hath  a  certaintie  receiv'd, 
She  by  experience  greater  griefe  doth  finde: 
"  Till  borne,  the  passions  cannot  be  conceav'd." 


The  Tragedy  of  yiilius  Cccsar.  313 

When  as  a  high  disaster  force  affords, 

O  how  that  tyrant  whom  affliction  bears, 

Barres  th'  eares  from   comfort,  and  the  mouth  from 

words, 
And  when  obdur'd  scornes  to  dissolve  in  teares! 

CaL  Ah !  since  the  lights  of  that  great  light  are  set, 
Why  doth  not  darknesse  spread  it  selfe  o're  all"? 
At  least  what  further  comfort  can  I  get. 
Whose  pleasures  had  no  period  but  his  fall? 
O  would  the  gods  I  always  might  confine 
Flames  in  my  brest,  and  floods  within  my  eyes, 
To  entertaine  so  great  a  griefe  as  mine, 
That  thence  there  might  fit  furniture  arise ; 
Yet  I  disdaine  (though  by  distresse  o'rethrowne) 
By  such  externall  meanes  to  seeke  reliefe : 
"  The  greatest  sorrowes  are  by  silence  showne, 
"  Whilst  all  the  senses  are  shut  up  with  griefe :" 
But  miserie  doth  so  tyrannick  grow 
That  it  of  sighes  and  teares  a  tribute  claimes ; 
"  Ah !  when  the  cup  is  full,  it  must  o'reflow, 
"  And  fires  which  burne  must  offer  up  some  flames;" 
Yet  though  what  thou  hast  sayd  my  death  shall  be, 
(Since  sunke  so  deeply  in  a  melted  heart) 
Of  my  lives  death  report  each  point  to  mee, 
For  every  circumstance  that  I  may  smart. 

Nun.  What  fatall  warnings  did  foregoe  his  end. 
Which  by  his  stay  to  frustrate  some  did  try? 
But  he  who  scorn'd  excuses  to  pretend. 
Was  by  the  destinies  drawne  forth  to  die. 
Whilst  by  the  way  he  chanc'd  to  meet  with  one. 
Who  had  his  deaths-day  nam'd,  he  to  him  said : 


314  Stirling s  Poems. 

The  Ides  of  March  be  come;  but  yet  not  gone 

The  other  answer'd,  and  still  constant  stayd : 

Another  brought  a  letter  with  great  speed, 

Which  the  conspiracie  at  length  did  touch, 

And  gave  it  CcEsar  in  his  hand  to  reade, 

Protesting  that  it  did  import  him  much. 

Yet  did  he  lay  it  up  Avhere  still  it  rests, 

As  doe  the  great  whom  blest  the  world  reputes, 

Who  (griev'd  to  be  importun'd  by  requests) 

Of  simple  supplicants  neglect  the  suites : 

Or  he  of  it  the  reading  did  deferre. 

Still  troubled  by  attendants  at  the  gate. 

Whilst  some  to  show  their  credit  would  conferre, 

To  flatter  some,  some  something  to  entreate. 

Not  onely  did  the  gods  by  divers  signes 

Give  Ccesar  warning  of  his  threatned  harmes ; 

But  did  of  foes  disturbe  the  rash  designes, 

And  to  their  troubled  thoughts  gave  strange  alarmes  -, 

A  senator  who  by  some  words  we  find, 

To  the  conspirators  (though  none  of  theirs) 

Had  showne  himselfe  familiar  with  their  minde, 

Then  chanc'd  to  deale  with  Ccesar  in  affaires. 

That  sight  their  soules  did  with  confusion  fill, 

For,  thinking  that  he  told  their  purpos'd  deeds, 

They  straight  themselves,  or  Ccesar  thought  to  kill : 

"  A  guiltie  conscience  no  accuser  needs;" 

But  marking  that  he  us'd  (when  taking  leave) 

A  suters  gesture  when  affording  thankes, 

They  of  their  course  did  greater  hopes  conceave, 

And  rang'd  them  seven  according  to  their  rankes. 

Then  Ca;sar  march'd  forth  to  the  fatall  place; 


The  Tragedy  of  ytdiiis  CcEsar.  315 

Neere  Pompeys  theater  where  the  senate  was, 
Where  (when  he  had  remain'd  a  Htle  space) 
All  the  confederats  flock'd  about. 

CaL  Alas. 

Nun.  First  for  the  forme,  Metellus  Ciniber  crav'd 
To  have  his  brother  from  exile  restor'd, 
Yet  with  the  rest  a  rude  repulse  receiv'd. 
Whilst  it  they  all  too  earnestly  implor'd : 
Bold  Cimbcr  who  in  strife  with  him  did  stand, 
Did  strive  to  cover  with  his  gowne  his  head : 
Then  was  the  first  blow  given  by  Cased s  hand, 
Which  on  his  necke  a  litle  wound  but  made. 
And  Ccesar  (starting  whilst  the  stroke  he  spi'd) 
By  strength  from  further  striking  Casca  stai'd, 
Whilst  both  the  two  burst  out  at  once,  and  cry'd : 
He  traitour  Casea,  and  he,  brother  aide; 
Then  all  the  rest  against  him  did  arise 
Like  desp'rat  men,  whose  furie  force  affords, 
That  Ccesar  on  no  side  could  set  his  eyes, 
But  every  looke  encountred  with  some  swords ; 
Yet,  as  a  lyon  (when  by  nets  surpris'd) 
Stands  strugling  still  so  long  as  he  hath  strength, 
So  C(Esar  (as  he  had  their  pow'r  despis'd) 
Did  with  great  rage  resist,  till  at  the  length 
He  thus  cri'd  out  (when  spying  Brutus  come) 
And  thou  my  sonne !  then  griefe  did  back  rebound : 
"  Nought  but  unkindnesse  Caesar  could  o'recome, 
"  That,  of  all  things,  doth  give  the  deepest  wound." 

Cho.  "Ah!  when  unkindnesse  is,  where  love  was 
thought, 
"  A  tender  passion  breakes  the  strongest  heart : 


3 1 6  Stirling's  Poems. 

"  For,  of  all  those  who  give  offence  in  ought, 
"  Men,  others  hate,  but  for  unkinde  men,  smart." 

Nufi.  Ah !  taking  then  no  more  delight  in  light, 
As  who  disdainfullie  the  world  disclaim' d, 
Of  if  from  Brutus  blow  to  hold  his  sight, 
As  of  so  great  ingratitude  asham'd, 
He  with  his  gowne  when  cover'd  first  o're  all, 
As  one  who  neither  fought,  nor  wish'd  reliefe. 
Not  wronging  majestic,  in  state  did  fall, 
No  sigh  consenting  to  betray  his  griefe. 
Yet  (if  by  chance  or  force  I  cannot  tell) 
Even  at  the  place,  where  Fompefs  statue  stood, 
(As  if  to  crave  him  pardon,)  Ccesar  fell, 
That  in  revenge  it  might  exhaust  his  blood; 
But  when  his  corpes  abandon' d  quite  by  breath, 
Did  fortunes  frailties  monument  remaine. 
That  all  might  have  like  int'rest  in  his  death, 
And  by  the  same,  looke  for  like  praise  or  paine : 
Then  Cassius,  Brutus,  and  the  rest  began 
With  that  great  emperours  blood  to  die  their  hands ; 
"  What  beast  in  th'  earth  more  cruel  is  then  man, 
"When  o're  his  reason  passion  once  commands'?" 

Cal.  Whilst  brutish  Brutus,  and  proud  Cassius  thus 
Romes  greatest  captaine  under  trust  deceiv'd. 
Where  was  Antonius  (since  a  friend  to  us) 
That  he  not  lost  himselfe,  or  Ccesar  sav'd? 

Nun.  The  whole  conspiratours  remain'd  in  doubt. 
Had  he  and  Oxat  joyn'd,  to  be  undone. 
And  so  caus'd  one  to  talke  with  him  without. 
Who  fain'd  a  conference  till  the  fact  was  done. 
Then  knowing  well  in  such  tumultuous  broiles. 


The  Tragedy  of  y^ulius  Ccesar.  3 1 7 

That  the  first  danger  alwayes  is  the  worst, 

He  fled  in  hast,  disguis'd  with  borrow'd  spoiles, 

For  rage  and  for  disdaine  even  Hke  to  burst. 

CaL  The  senatours  which  were  assembled  there, 
When  they  beheld  that  great  man  brought  to  end, 
What  was  their  part?  to  what  inclin'd  their  care? 
I  fear  affliction  could  not  finde  a  friend. 

Nun.   Of  those  who  in  the  senate-house  did  sit 
(So  sad  an  object  sorrie  to  behold. 
Or  fearing  what  bould  hands  might  more  commit) 
Each  to  his  house  a  severall  way  did  hold ; 
This  act  with  horrour  did  confound  their  sight, 
And  unawares  their  judgement  did  surprise  : 
"  When  any  hastie  harmes  un-lookt-for  light, 
"  The  resolution  hath  not  time  to  rise:" 
That  man  on  whom  the  world  did  once  rely, 
By  all  long  reverenc'd,  and  ador'd  by  some. 
None  to  attend  him  had  but  two  and  I. 

Cho.  "To  what  an  ebbe  may  fortunes  flowing  come?" 
Why  should  men  following  on  the  smoake  of  pride, 
Leave  certaine  ease  to  seeke  a  dream'd  delight. 
Which  when  they  have  by  many  dangers  tri'd, 
They  neither  can  with  safety  keepe  nor  quite? 
"  The  people  who  by  force  subdu'd  remaine, 
"  May  pitty  those  by  whom  opprest  they  rest ; 
"  They  but  one  tyrant  have,  whereas  there  raigne  " 
A  thousand  tyrants  in  one  tyrants  brest; 
What  though  great  CcEsar  once  commanded  kings. 
Whose  onely  name  whole  nations  did  appall? 
Yet  now  (let  no  man  trust  in  worldly  things) 
A  little  earth  holds  him  who  held  it  all. 


3 1 8  Stirling's  Poems. 

Cal.  Ah !  had  he  but  beleev'd  my  faithful!  cares, 
His  state  to  stablish  who  have  ahvayes  striv'd, 
Then  (scaping  this  conspiracie  of  theirs) 
He,  honour' d  still,  and  I  had  happy  liv'd. 
Did  I  not  spend  of  supplications  store, 
That  he  within  his  house,  this  day  would  waste. 
As  I  by  dreames  advertis'd  was  before, 
Which  shew'd  what  was  to  come,  and  now  is  past; 
Whilst  the  sooth-sayers  sacrific'd  did  finde 
A  beast  without  a  heart,  their  altars  staine. 
By  that  presage  my  soule  might  have  divin'd, 
That  I  without  my  heart  would  soone  remaine; 
But  all  those  terrours  could  no  terrour  give 
To  that  great  minde,  whose  thoughts  too  high   still 

aym'd; 
He  by  his  fortune  confident  did  live, 
As,  if  the  heavens,  for  him  had  all  things  fram'd; 
Yet  though  he  ended  have  his  fatall  race, 
To  bragge  for  this,  let  not  his  murtherers  strive : 
For,  O !  I  hope  to  see  within  short  space. 
Him  dead  ador'd,  and  them  abhorr'd  alive. 
Though  now  his  name  the  multitude  respects. 
Since  murdering  one  who  him  had  held  so  deare. 
Whir  St  inward  thoughts  each  outward  thing  reflects, 
Some  monstrous  shape  to  Brutus  must  appeare. 
lust  Nemesis  must  plague  proud  Cassius  soone. 
And  make  him  kill  himselfe,  from  hopes  estrang'd ; 
Once  all  the  wrongs  by  foes  to  Cczsar  done, 
May  by  themselves  be  on  themselves  reveng'd. 

Cho.  "  Some,  soveraigne  of  the  earth,  would  fortune 
prove, 


The  Tragedy  of  J^iiliiis  Ccesar.  319 

"As  if,  confus'dly,  gods  did  men  advance; 

"  Nought  comes  to  men  below,  but  from  above, 

"  By  Providence,  not  by  a  staggering  chance : 

"  Though  to  the  cause  that  last  forgoes  the  end, 

"  Some  attribute  the  course  of  every  thing, 

"  That  cause,  on  other  causes  doth  depend, 

"Which  chain'd  'twixt  heaven  and  earth  due  ends 

forth  bring; 
"  Of  those  decrees  the  heavens  for  us  appoint, 
"  (Who  ever  them  approves,  or  doth  disprove) 
"  No  mortall  man  can  disappoint  a  point, 
"  But  as  they  please  here  moves,  or  doth  remove ; 
"  We,  when  once  come  the  worlds  vaine  pompe  to  try, 
"  (Led  by  the  fates)  to  end  our  journey  haste  : 
"  For,  when  first  borne,  we  straight  begin  to  dye, 
"  Lifes  first  day  is  a  step  unto  the  last. 
"  And  is  there  ought  more  swift  then  dayes,  and  years, 
"  Which  weare  away  this  breath  of  ours  so  soone, 
"  Whil'st  Lachesis  to  no  request  gives  eares, 
"  But  spinnes  the  threeds  of  life  till  they  be  done  % 
"  Yet  foolish  worldlings  following  that  which  flies, 
"  As  if  they  had  assurance  of  their  breath, 
"  To  fraile  preferrement  fondly  strive  to  rise, 
"  Which  (but  a  burden)  weighs  them  downe  to  death." 

Nim.  There's  none  of  us  but  must  remember  still. 
How  that  the  gods  by  many  a  wondrous  signe. 
Did  show  (it  seem'd)  how  that  against  their  will. 
The  destinies  would  Casafs  dayes  confine. 
A  monstrous  starre  amidst  the  heaven  hath  beene, 
Still  since  they  first  against  him  did  conspire, 
The  solitary  birds  at  noone  were  scene, 


320  St b- ling's  Poems. 

And  men  to  walke  environ'd  all  with  fire: 
What  wonder  though  the  heavens  at  such  a  time, 
Do  brave  the  earth  with  apparitions  strange, 
Then  whil'st  intending  such  a  monstrous  crime, 
"  Unnaturall  men  make  Natures  course  to  change"?" 
Cho.  Though  all  such  things  seeme  wonderful!  to 

some, 
They  may  by  reason  comprehended  be, 
For,  what,  beyond  what  usuall  is,  doth  come, 
The  ignorant  with  wondring  eyes  do  see. 
Those  bastard  starres,  not  heritours  of  th'ayre, 
Are  first  conceiv'd  below,  then  borne  above, 
And  when  fore-knowing  things,  sprits  take  most  care, 
And  by  illusion,  superstition  move. 
Yet  this,  no  doubt,  a  great  regard  should  breed, 
When  Nature  hath  brought  forth  a  monstrous  birth, 
In  secret  characters  where  men  may  reade 
The  wrath  of  heaven,  and  wickednesse  of  th'  earth. 
The  naturallists,  and  th'  astrologians  skill 
May  oft,  encountring,  manifest  like  care  : 
Since  th'  one  looks  back,  the  other  forward  still. 
One  may  tell  what,  the  other  why  things  are. 

Nun.  Shall  sorrow  through  the   waves  of  woes  to 

saile, 
Have  still  your  teares  for  seas,  your  sighs  for  winds ; 
To  miserie  what  do  base  plaints  availe  1 
A  course  more  high  becomes  heroicke  mindes. 
"  None  are  o're-come,  save  onely  those  who  yeeld," 
From  froward  fortune  though  some  blows  be  borne, 
Let  vertue  serve  adversity  for  shield : 
"  No  greater  griefe  to  griefe  then  th'  enemies  scorne ; " 


The  Tragedy  of  yuUus  Ccesar.  321 

This  makes  your  foes  but  laugh  to  see  you  weep, 

At  least  these  teares  but  for  your  selfe  bestow, 

And  not  for  that  great  sprit,  whose  spoyls  heavens 

keep ; 
For,  he  no  doubt,  rests  deified  ere  now. 

Cal.  I  onely  waile  my  life,  and  not  his  death; 
Who  now  amongst  th'  immortals  doth  repose, 
And  shall  so  long  as  I  have  bloud  or  breath, 
To  furnish  forth  the  elements  of  woes. 
I  care  not  who  rejoyce,  so  I  lament, 
Who  do  to  darknesse  dedicate  my  dayes. 
And  since  the  light  of  my  delight  is  spent. 
Shall  have  in  horrour  all  ApoIIds  rayes. 
(I  will  retyre  my  selfe  to  waile  alone. 
As  trustie  turtles  mourning  for  their  mates) 
And  (my  misfortune  alwayes  bent  to  mone) 
Will  spurne  at  pleasures  as  empoyson'd  baits; 
No  second  guest  shall  presse  great  Ccesars  bed, 
Warm'd  by  the  flames  to  which  he  first  gave  life ; 
I  thinke  there  may  be  greater  honour  had, 
When  Cccsars  widow,  then  anothers  wife. 
This  had  afforded  comfort  for  my  harmes, 
If  I  (ere  chanc'd  abandon'd  thus  to  be) 
Had  had  a  little  Ccesar  in  mine  armes, 
The  living  picture  of  his  syre  to  me. 
Yet  doth  that  idoU  which  my  thoughts  adore. 
With  me  of  late  most  strictly  match'd  remaine. 
For,  where  my  armes  him  sometimes  held  before. 
Now  in  my  heart  I  shall  him  still  retaine. 
That  (though  I  may  no  pretious  things  impart) 
Thy  deitie  may  by  me  be  honour'd  oft, 

VOL.    II.  V 


Stirling's  Poems. 


Still  offring  up  my  thoughts  upon  my  heart, 

My  sacred  flame  shall  alwayes  mount  aloft.     \Exeimi. 


Chorus. 

What  fools  are  those  who  do  repose  their  trust 
On  what  this  masse  of  misery  affords? 
And  (bragging  but  of  th'  excrements  of  dust) 
Of  life-lesse  treasures  labour  to  be  lords : 

Which  like  the  sirens  songs,  or  Circes  charmes, 
With  shadows  of  delight  hide  certaine  harmes. 
Ah  !  whir  St  they  sport  on  pleasures  ycie  grounds, 
Oft  poyson'd  by  prosperitie  with  pride, 
A  sudden  storme  their  floting  joyes  confounds. 
Whose  course  is  ordred  by  the  eyelesse  guide, 
Who  so  inconstantly  her  selfe  doth  beare 
Th'  unhappie  men  may  hope,  the  happy  feare. 
The  fortunate  who  bathe  in  flouds  of  joyes, 
To  perish  oft  amidst  their  pleasures  chance, 
And  mirthlesse  wretches  wallowing  in  annoyes. 
Oft  by  adversitie  themselves  advance ; 

Whil'st  fortune  bent  to  mock  vaine  worldlings  cares, 
Doth  change  despaires  in  hopes,  hopes  in  despaires. 
That  gallant  Grecian  whose  great  wit  so  soone. 
Whom  others  could  not  number,  did  o're-come. 
Had  he  not  beene  undone,  had  beene  undone, 
And  if  not  banish'd,  had  not  had  a  home; 

To  him  feare  courage  gave  (what  wondrous  change! 
And  many  doubts  are  solution  strange. 
He  who  told  one  who  then  was  fortunes  childe. 


The  Tragedy  of  J^ulius  Ccesar.  323 

As  if  with  horrour  to  congeale  his  bloud  : 
That  Cains  Mar  ins  farre  from  Rome  exil'd, 
Wretch'd  on  the  ruines  of  great  Carthage  stood ; 
Though  long  both  plagu'd  by  griefe,  and  by  disgrace, 
The  consul-ship  regain'd,  and  dy'd  in  peace. 
And  that  great  Pompey  (all  the  worlds  delight) 
Whom  of  his  theater  then  th'  applauses  pleas'd, 
Whil'st  praise-transported  eyes  endeer'd  his  sight. 
Who  by  youths  toyles  should  have  his  age  then  eas'd, 
He  by  one  blow,  of  fortune  lost  farre  more 
Then  many  battels  gayned  had  before. 
Such  sudden  changes  so  disturbe  the  soule, 
That  still  the  judgement  ballanc'd  is  by  doubt; 
But,  on  a  round,  what  wonder  though  things  roule .' 
And  since  within  a  circle,  turne  about? 

Whil'st  heaven  on  earth  strange  alterations  brings, 
To  scorne  our  confidence  in  worldly  things. 
And  chanc'd  there  ever  accidents  more  strange, 
Then  in  these  stormy  bounds  where  we  remaine  ^ 
One  did  a  sheep-hooke  to  a  scepter  change, 
The  nurceling  of  a  wolfe  o're  men  did  raigne ; 
A  little  village  grew  a  mighty  towne, 
Which  whil'st  it  had  no  king,  held  many  a  crowne. 
Then  by  how  many  sundry  sorts  of  men, 
Hath  this  great  state  beene  rul'd?  though  now  by  none. 
Which  first  obey'd  but  one,  then  two,  then  ten. 
Then  by  degrees  return'd  to  two,  and  one; 
Of  which  three  states,  their  ruine  did  abide, 
Two  by  two's  lusts,  and  one  by  two  mens  pride. 
What  revolutions  huge  have  hapned  thus, 
By  secret  fates  all  violently  led, 


324  Stirling's  Poems. 

Though  seeming  but  by  accident  to  us, 
Yet  in  the  depths  of  heavenly  breasts  first  bred, 
As  arguments  demonstrative  to  prove 
That  weaknesse  dwels  below,  and  pow'r  above. 
Loe,  prosprous  Casar  charged  for  a  space. 
Both  with  strange  nations,  and  his  countreys  spoyls, 
Even  when  he  seem'd  by  warre  to  purchase  peace. 
And  roses  of  sweet  rest,  from  thornes  of  toils; 

Then  whil'st  his  minde  and  fortune  swell'd  most  high, 
Hath  beene  constrain'd  the  last  distresse  to  trie. 
What  warnings  large  were  in  a  time  so  short. 
Of  that  darke  course  which  by  his  death  now  shines  \ 
It,  speechlesse  wonders  plainly  did  report. 
It,  men  reveal'd  by  words,  and  gods  by  signes. 
Yet  by  the  chaynes  of  destinies  whil'st  bound. 
He  saw  the  sword,  but  could  not  scape  the  wound. 
What  curtaine  o're  our  knowledge  errour  brings. 
Now  drawn,  now  open'd,  by  the  heavenly  host. 
Which  makes  us  sometimes  sharpe  to  see  small  things, 
And  yet  quite  blinde  when  as  we  should  see  most, 
That  curious  braines  may  rest  amaz'd  at  it. 
Whose  ignorance  makes  them  presume  of  wit ; 
Then  let  us  live,  since  all  things  change  below, 
When  rais'd  most  high,  as  those  who  once  may  fall. 
And  hold  when  by  disasters  brought  more  low, 
The  minde  still  free,  what  ever  else  be  thrall : 
"  Those  (lords  of  fortune)  sweeten  every  state, 
"  Who  can  command  themselves,  though  not  their 
fate." 


MISCELLANEOUS    PIECES. 


SOME  VERSES 

WRITTEN    TO    HIS    MAJESTIE    BY    THE   AUTHOUR   AT    THE   TIME   OF   HIS 
MAIESTIES    FIRST   ENTRIE    INTO   ENGLAND.* 

Stay,  tragick  muse,  with  those  vntimely  verses, 
With  raging  accents  and  with  dreadfull  sounds, 

To  draw  dead  monarkes  out  of  ruin'd  herses, 

T'  affright  th'  applauding  world  with  bloudie  wounds: 

Raze  all  the  monuments  of  horrours  past, 

T'  aduance  the  publike  mirth  our  treasures  wast. 

And  pardon  (olde  heroes)  for  O  I  finde, 

I  had  no  reason  to  admire  your  fates : 
And  with  rare  guiftes  of  body  and  of  minde, 

Th'  vnbounded  greatnesse  of  euill-conquer'd  states. 
More  glorious  actes  then  were  achieu'd  by  you, 
Do  make  your  wonders  thought  no  wonders  now. 


For  yee  the  potentates  of  former  times. 
Making  your  will  a  right,  your  force  a  law : 

Staining  your  conquest  with  a  thousand  crimes, 
Still  raign'd  like  tyrants,  but  obey'd  for  awe : 

*  This  and  the  next  piece  are  printed  at  the  end  of  tlie 
Monarchkke  Tragedies,  1604.  According  to  a  notice  in  Mr. 
Hazlitt's  valuable  Handbook  to  the  Popular.  Poetical,  and 
Drajnatic  Literature  of  Great  Britain,  1867,  both  poems  are 
preserved  in  MS.  in  the  Chetham  Library. 


328  Sihiing's  Poems. 

And  whilst  your  yoake  none  willingly  would  beare, 
Dyed  oft  the  sacrifice  of  wrath  and  feare. 

But  this  age  great  with  glorie  hath  brought  forth 
A  matchlesse  monarke  whom  peace  highlie  raises, 

Who  as  th'  vntainted  ocean  of  all  worth 

As  due  to  him  hath  swallow'd  all  your  praises. 

Whose  cleere  excellencies  long  knowne  for  such, 

All  men  must  praise,  and  none  can  praise  too  much. 

For  that  which  others  hardly  could  acquire, 

With  losse  of  thousands  Hues  and  endlesse  paine, 

Is  heapt  on  him  euen  by  their  owne  desire, 

That  thrist  t'  enioy  the  fruites  of  his  blest  raigne  : 

And  neuer  conquerour  gain'd  so  great  a  thing, 

As  those  wise  subiects  gaining  such  a  king. 

But  what  a  mightie  state  is  this  I  see? 

A  little  world  that  all  true  worth  inherites. 
Strong  without  art,  entrench' d  within  the  sea, 

Abounding  in  braue  men  full  of  great  spirits : 
It  seemes  this  ile  would  boast,  and  so  she  may. 
To  be  the  soueraigne  of  the  world  some  day. 

O  generous  lames,  the  glorie  of  their  parts, 
In  large  dominions  equall  with  the  best : 

But  the  most  mightie  monarke  of  men's  harts, 
That  euer  yet  a  diadem  possest : 

Long  maist  thou  line,  well  lou'd  and  free  from  dangers, 

The  comfort  of  thine  owne,  the  terrour  of  strangers. 


SOME  VERSES 

WRITTEN  SHORTLY  THEREAFTER  BY  REASON  OF  AN  INUNDATION  OF  DOUEN 
A  WATER  NEERE  VNTO  THE  AUTHOUR's  HOUSE,  WHEREVPON  HIS 
MAIESTIE   WAS   SOMETIMES   WONT   TO    HAWKE. 

What  wonder  though  my  melancholious  muse, 

Whose  generous  course  some  lucklesse  starre  con- 
troules : 

Her  bold  attempts  to  prosecute  refuse, 

And  would  faine  burie  my  abortiue  scroules. 

To  what  perfection  can  my  lines  be  rais'd, 

Whilst  many  a  crosse  would  quench  my  kindling 
fires: 

Lo  for  Parnassus  by  the  poets  prais'd, 

Some  sauage  mountaines  shadow  my  retires. 

No  Helicon  her  treasure  here  vnlockes, 
Of  all  the  sacred  band  the  chiefe  refuge : 

But  dangerous  Douen  rumbling  through  the  rockes, 
Would  scorne  the  raine-bowe  with  a  new  deluge. 

As  Tiber,  mindefull  of  his  olde  renowne, 

Augments  his  floodes  to  waile   the  faire  chang'd 
place; 


330  Stirling's  Poems. 

And  greeu'd  to  glide  through  that  degener'd  towne, 
Toyles  with  his  depthes  to  couer  their  disgrace. 

So  doth  my  Douen  rage,  greeu'd  in  hke  sort, 
While  as  his  wonted  honour  comes  to  minde : 

To  that  great  prince  whilst  he  afforded  sport, 
To  whom  his  trident  Neptune  hath  resign' d. 

And  as  the  want  of  waters  and  of  swaines, 
Had  but  begotten  to  his  bankes  neglect : 

He  striues  t'  encroch  vpon  the  bordering  plaines, 
Againe  by  greatnesse  to  procure  respect. 

Thus  all  the  creatures  of  this  orphand  boundes, 
In  their  own  kindes  moou'd  with  the  common  crosse 

With  many  a  monstrous  forme  all  forme  confoundes, 
To  make  vs  mourne  more  feelingly  our  losse. 

We  must  our  breastes  to  baser  thoughts  inure, 
Since  we  want  all  that  did  aduaunce  our  name : 

For  in  a  corner  of  the  world  obscure, 

We  rest  vngrac'd  without  the  boundes  of  fame. 

And  since  our  sunne  shines  in  another  part, 
Liue  like  th'  antipodes  depriu'd  of  light : 

Whilst  those  to  whom  his  beames  he  doth  impart, 
Begin  their  day  whilst  we  begin  our  night. 

This  hath  discourag'd  my  high-bended  minde, 
And  still  in  doale  my  drouping  muse  arrayes : 

Which  if  my  Phcebus  once  vpon  me  shin'd, 
Might  raise  her  flight  to  build  amidst  his  rayes. 


TO  M.  MICHAELL  DRAYTON. 

Now  I  perceiue  Pithagoras  diuinde, 
When  he  that  mocked  Maxim  did  maintaine, 
That  spirits  once  spoilde,  reuested  were  againe, 
Though  changde  in  shape,  remaining  one  in  mind ; 
These  loue  sicke  princes  passionate  estates; 
Who  feehng  reades,  he  cannot  but  allow, 
That  Quids  soule  reuiues  in  Drayton  now, 
Still  learned  in  loue,  still  rich  in  rare  conceits, 
This  pregnant  spirit  afifecting  further  skill, 
Oft  altring  forme,  from  vulgar  wits  retirde, 
In  diuers  ideoms  mightily  admirde, 
Did  prosecute  that  sacred  study  still; 
While  to  a  full  perfection  now  attainde, 
He  sings  so  sweetly  that  himselfe  is  stainde. 

William  Alexander,  Scotus. 


From  the  Commendatory  Verses  prefixed  to  Drayton's  Heroicall 
Epistles.     Folio,  London,  1611. 


Ri  sr>3^(^ 

P 

w 

B 

M 

^M 

A  REPLY  TO  THE  KING. 

The    following  letter   and   poem   (from   the  folio   edition   of 
Drammond's   works,  printed    at    Edinburgh   in    1711,    liy   the 
celebrated  James  Watson)  will  sufficiently  illustrate  this  poem  : — 

TO    HIS    VERY   WORTHY    FRIEND, 

MR.  WILLIAM  DRUMMOND  OF  HAWTHORNDEN. 

Sir, 

I  have  sent  you  here  a  sonnet,  which  the  king  made 
the  last  week,  moved  by  the  roughness  of  the  season,  as  you  may 
perceive  by  his  allusion  to  Satiiru  and  yaiiiis  meeting.  This 
forced  the  other  from  me.  The  last  day  being  private  with  his 
majesty,  after  other  things,  we  fortuned  to  discourse  of  English 
poetiy,  and  I  told  one  rule  that  he  did  like  of  exceedingly,  which 
was  this  : —  77iaf,  to  make  a  good  sound,  there  must  still  be  first  a 
short  syllable,  and  then  a  long,  tohieh  is  not  long  positively  of  its 
self,  but  comparatively,  zvJien  it  follozveth  a  shorter;  so  that  one 
syllable  may  be  long  in  one  place  and  short  in.  another,  according 
as  it  is  matched;  for  a  syllable  seems  short  when  it  is  as  it  were 
borne  dcnvn  with  a  longer.  Though  this  letter  would  seem  idle 
to  some,  yet  I  know  it  will  prove  serious  to  you,  and  I  seek  in 
this  but  to  fit  your  humour  to  whom  I  write.  You  will  find 
this,  by  your  own  observation,  better  than  a  man  can  express  it 
with  words,  though  few  or  none  have  ever  remarked  it.  I  have 
presently  written  a  number  of  serious  letters  ;  and,  last  of  all, 
have  re-created  my  mind  with  this,  wherewith  I  end. 


Your  Brother, 

W.  ALEXANDER. 


Newmarket, 
The  4th  of  February,  161 6. 


A  SONNET  BY  KING  JAMES  VI. 

How  cruelly  these  catives  do  conspire ; 

What  loathsome  love  breeds  such  a  baleful  band, 

Betwixt  the  cankred  king  of  Crcta  land, 

That  melancholy,  old,  and  angry  sire, 

And  him  \\\\o  wont  to  quench  debate  and  ire. 

Amongst  the  Romans,  when  his  ports  wei^e  clos'd, 

But  now  his  double  face  is  still  dispos'd. 

With  Satiirns  help,  to  freeze  us  at  the  fire. 

The  earth  o're-covered  with  a  sheet  of  snow, 

Refuses  food  to  fowl,  to  bird  and  beast ; 

The  chilling  cold  letts  every  thing  to  grow. 

And  surfeits  cattel  with  a  starving  feast. 

Curs'd  be  that  love,  and  mought  continue  short 
That  kills  all  creatures  and  doth  spoil  our  sport. 

When  Britains  monarch,  in  true  greatness  great, 
His  councils  counsel,  did  things  past  unfold. 
He  (eminent  in  knowledge  as  in  state) 
What  might  occur  oraculously  told; 
And  when  far  rais'd  from  this  terrestrial  round, 
He  niunbrous  notes  with  meastired  fury  frames, 
Each  accent  weigh'd,  no  jarr  in  sense,  or  sotmd, 
He  Phcebus  seems,  his  lines  Castalian  streams, 
This  worth  (though  much  we  owe)  doth  more  extort : 
All  honor  should,  but  it  constrains  to  love, 


334  Stirling's  Poems. 

While  ravished  still  above  the  vulgar  sort 

He  prince,  or  poet,  more  than  man  doth  prove : 

But  all  his  due  who  can  afford  him  then, 

A  god  of  poets,  and  a  king  of  men. 

This  day,  design'd  to  spoil  the  world  of  peace, 
And  accessory  to  so  foul  a  crime, 
Why  should  it  rest  in  the  records  of  time, 
Since  stain'd  by  treason  forfeiting  the  place. 
O !  but  those  err  who  would  it  odious  make : 
This  day  from  danger  Britain's  monarch  sav'd, 
That  day  when  first  the  mischief  was  conceiv'd; 
Let  it  accurst  still  clad  with  clouds  look  black. 
Then  happy  day,  to  which  by  heavens  decree 
(A  consecrated)  festual  pomp  is  due; 
Long  may  thy  saint  (a  living  martyr)  view, 
All  hearts  for  love  of  him  to  honour  thee. 

More  length  we  wish,  but  what  thou  wantst  of  light 
Shall  be  by  fire  extorted  from  the  night. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  MR.  JOHN  MURRAY.* 

Mourn  muses,  mourn,  your  greatest  gallant  dies. 

Who  still  in  state  did  court  your  sacred  train; 

Your  minion  Murray,  Albions  sweetest  swain, 

Who  soar'd  so  high,  now  low  neglected  lyes. 

If  of  true  worth  the  world  had  right  esteem' d 

His  lofty  thoughts,  what  bounds  could  have  confined  ] 

But  fortune,  feard  to  match  with  such  a  mind, 

Where  all  his  due,  and  not  her  gift  had  seem'd. 

Fair  nymphs,  whose  brood  doth  stand  with  time  at 

strife. 
Dare  death  presume,  heavens  darlings  thus  to  da'unt? 
To  flattering  fancies  then  in  vain  you  vaunt, 
That  you  for  ever  will  prolong  a  life. 

He  grac'd  your  band,  and  not  your  bays  his  brow; 

You  happy  were  in  him,  he  not  by  you. 


*  In  a  letter  to  Drummond  of  Hawthornden,  dated  London, 
12  April,  1615,  he  writes:— "  Yesterday,  Mr.  John  Murray 
died.  Eight  days  ago  I  wrote  a  sonnet  divining  his  death, 
which  you  will  receive  here.  The  king  commended  it  much, 
but  thought  that  I  gave  him  too  much  praise  — at  least  it  was  a 
generous  error.  I  envy  no  man,  and  shall  never  be  a  niggard 
to  any  man's  worth  in  that  which  I  can  afford. " 


ON   THE   REPORT   OF   THE   DEATH   OF 
•DRUMMOND  OF  HAWTHORNDEN. 

If  that  were  true  which  whispered  is  by  Fame, 
That  Da  moil's  light  no  more  on  earth  doth  burn, 
His  patron  Phoebus  physick  would  disclaim, 
And  cloath'd  in  clouds  as  erst  for  Phcdon  mourn. 

Yea,  Fame  by  this  had  got  so  deep  a  wound, 
That  scarce  she  could  have  power  to  tell  his  death. 
Her  wings  cut  short;  who  could  her  trumpet  sound, 
Whose  blaze  of  late  was  nurs'd  but  by  his  breath'? 

That  sp'rit  of  his,  which  most  with  mine  was  free, 
By  mutual  traffick  enterchanging  store ; 
If  chas'd  from  him,  it  would  have  come  to  me, 
Where  it  so  oft  familiar  was  before. 

Some  secret  grief  distemp'ring  first  my  mind, 
Had  (though  not  knowing)  made  me  feel  this  loss; 
A  smypathy  had  so  our  souls  combin'd, 
That  such  a  parting  both  at  once  would  toss. 


On  the  Death  of  Driiniino?id  of  Hawthoriideu.  337 

Though  such  reports  to  others  terror  give, 
Thy  heavenly  virtues  who  did  never  spy, 
I  know  thou,  that  canst  make  the  dead  to  live, 
Immortal  art,  and  needs  not  fear  to  dye. 


VOL.    II. 


TO  HIS  WORTHY  FRIEND,  MASTER 
WALTER  QUIN.* 

I  MUST  commend  the  clearenesse  of  thy  mind, 
AVhich  (still  ingenuous)  bent  true  worth  to  raise. 
Though  in  the  grave  an  object  fit  will  find, 
Not  flattring  living  men  with  questioned  praise. 
Brave  Bernards  valour  noble  Naples  sounds; 
Which  scarce  his  country  venters  to  proclaime, 
But  sith  his  sword  prevail'd  in  forraine  bounds, 
Their  pennes  should  pay  a  tribute  to  his  fame. 
Lest  natives  vaunt,  let  strangers  then  deale  thus : 
For  I  confesse  they  proove  too  oft  ingrate. 
What  deeds  have  smother'd  bin,  or  rob'd  from  us 
By  Frenchmen  first,  by  Flemmings  now  of  late] 
Where,  had  all  met  with  such  a  muse  as  thine, 
Their  lightning  glory  through  each  age  might  shine. 

*  From  ' '  The  memoiie  of  the  most  worthie  and  renowned 
Bernard  Smart,  Lord  D'Aubignie,  renewed,  whereunto  is  added 
wishes  presented  to  the  Prince  (Charles  I.)  at  his  creation,  by 
Walter  Quin,  servant  to  his  highnesse.  London,  printed  by 
George  Purslow,  1619,  4to. "  Quin  was  teacher  of  music  in  the 
household  of  the  prince,  from  which  office  he  enjoyed  a  salary 
of  £yi  per  annum. 


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v^^ffi^^^^« 

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ffi^'i^^^ 

^^i^'^^^J 

SONNET. 


Of  known  effects,  grounds  too  precisely  sought, 

Young  naturalists  oft  atheists  old  doe  prove. 

And  some  who  naught,   save  who  first  moves,  can 

move, 
Scorn  mediate  means,  as  wonders  still  were  wrought : 
But  tempting  both,  thou  dost  this  difference  even, 
Divine  physician,  physical  divine : 
Who  souls  and  bodies  help'st,  dost  here  design 
From  earth  by  reason,  and  by  faith  from  heaven, 
With  mysteries,  which  few  can  reach  aright : 
How  heaven  and  earth  are  match'd,  and  work  in  man; 
Who  wise  and  holy  ends,  and  causes  scan. 
Loe  true  philosophy,  perfection's  height, 
For  this  is  all,  which  we  would  wish  to  gaine : 
In  bodies  sound,  that  minds  may  sound  remaine. 

*  From  Abernethey's    Clwistian  and  Hc'irjenly    Treatise,  con- 
taining Physickefor  the  Soul. — 1622. 


TO   HIS   DESERVEDLY   HONORED    FRIEND, 

MR.   EDWARD  ALLANE,* 

THE    FIRST    FOUNDER   AND    MASTER   OF    THE    COLLEIGE 
OF   GODS   GIFT. 

Some  greate  by  bulk  or  chance,  whom  fortune  blindes, 
Where  (if  it  were)  trew  virtue  wold  burst  forth. 
They  sense  not  haveing,  can  afford  no  worth, 
And  by  their  meanes  doe  but  condemne  their  myndes. 
To  honour  such  I  should  disgrace  my  penne. 
Who  might  prove  more,  I  count  them  lesse  then 
men. 

But  thee  to  praise  I  dare  be  bould  indeede, 
By  fortunes  strictnesse  whilst  at  first  suppress'd, 

*  From  "Memoirs  of  Edward  Alleyn,  Founder  of  Dulwich 
College,"  edited  for  the  Shakespeare  Society  by  Mr.  J.  P. 
Collier.  "At  about  this  period  (1624),  and  earlier,  Alleyn 
appears  to  have  been  upon  terms  of  friendship  with  Sir  William 
Alexander,  the  distinguished  poet  (afterwards  Earl  of  Stirling), 
now  high  in  favour  with  King  James.  .  .  .  The  lines  were 
probably  written  some  years  anterior  to  the  date  to  which  we 
are  now  adverting ;  and  they  sufficiently  intelligibly  allude  to 
the  profession  to  which  Alleyn  had  been  bred,  and  in  which  '  he 
far  exceeded  both  ancients  and  moderns  : '  they  also  notice  the 
'  better  state  '  to  which  Alleyn  had  risen,  but  justly  speak  of  his 
great  work  of  charity  as  if  he  had  no  worldly  purpose  in  com- 
mencing and  completing  it." — y.  P.  Collier. 


Mr.  Edward  AUane.  34 1 

Who  at  the  height  of  that  which  thou  profess'd 
Both  ancients,  moderns,  all  didst  'far  exceede : 
Thus  vertue  many  ways  may  use  hir  pow'r — 
The  bees  draw  honnie  out  of  evrie  flow'r. 

And  when  thy  state  was  to  a  better  chang'd. 
That  thou  enabled  wast  for  doing  goode, 
To  clothe  the  naked,  give  the  hungrie  foode, 
As  one  that  was  for  avarice  estrang'd : 

Then  what  was  fill  thou  scorn'd  to  seeke  for  more, 
Whilst  bent  to  doe  what  was  design'd  before. 


'to' 


Then  prosecute  this  noble  course  of  thyne, 
As  prince  or  priest  for  state,  in  charge  though  none, 
For  acting  this  brave  part,  when  thou  art  gone, 
Thy  fame  more  bright  then  somes'  more  high  shall 
shyne, 
Since  thou  turn'd  great,  who  this  worlds  stage  doe 

trace, 
With  whom  it  seemes  thou  hast  exchang'd  thy  place. 


ATTRIBUTED  POEM 

TO    HIS    MOST   AFFECTIONATE    FRIEND,    W.    I.ITHGOW.* 

No  Arabs,  Turkes,  Moores,  Sarazens,  nor  strangers, 
Woods,  wildernesse,  and  darke,  vmbrag'ous  caues, 
No  serpents,  beasts,  nor  cruell,  fatall  dangers, 
Nor  sad  regrates  of  ghostly  growing  graues, 
Could  thee  affright,  disswade,  disturbe,  annoy, 
To  venture  life  to  winne  a  world  of  ioy. 
This  worke,  which  pompe-expecting  eyes  may  feed, 
To  vs,  and  thee,  shall  perfect  pleasure  breed. 

W.  A. 

*  From  Lithgo-dJs  Travels:  London,  i6r6;  and  reprinted  by 
Mr.  Maidment  in  his  "Poetical  Remains  of  William  Lithgow, " 
4to.,  Edinburgh,  1S63.  Except  from  similarity  of  style  and 
initials,  there  is  no  evidence  to  attribute  the  poem  to  the  Earl  of 
StirlincT. 


THE   END, 


BELL   AND    liAlN,    PRINTERS,    GLASGOW. 


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