Classic Poem

ACTVS IIII.

Seleucus. Rodon.

Neuer friend Rodon in a better houre,
Could I haue met thee then eu'n now I do,
Hauing affliction in the greatest powre
Vpon my soule, and none to tell it to.
For tis some ease our sorrowes to reueale,
If they to whom we shall impart our woes
Seeme but to feele a part of what we feele,
And meete vs with a sigh but at a cloze.
Rod . And neuer (friend Seleucus ) found'st thou one
That better could beare such a part with thee :
Who by his owne, knowes others cares to mone,
And can, in like accord of griefe, agree.
And therefore tell th'oppression of thy heart,
Tell to an eare prepar'd and tun'd to care:
And I will likewise vnto thee impart
As sad a tale as what thou shalt declare.
So shall vve both our mournefull plaints combine
Ile vvaile thy state, and thou shalt pitty mine.
Sel . Well then thou know'st how I haue liu'd in grace
With Cleopatra , and esteem'd in Court
As one of Councell, and of chiefest place,
And euer held my credite in that sort.
Till now in this confusion of our state,
VVhen thinking to haue vs'd a meane to climbe,
And fled the wretched, flowne vnto the great,
(Following the fortune of the present time,)
Am come to be cast downe and ruin'd cleane;
And in the course of mine owne plot vndon.
For hauing all the secrets of the Queene
Reueald to Caesar , to haue fauour won,
My treachery is quitted vvith disgrace,
My falshood loath'd, and not without great reason
Though good for him ; yet Princes in this case
Doe hate the Traitor, though they loue the treafon.
For how could he imagine I would be
Faithfull to him, being false vnto mine owne?
And false to such a bounteous Queene as she,
That had me rais'd and made mine honor knowne
He saw twas not for zeale to him I bare,
But for base feare, or mine owne state to settle.
Weakenesse is false, and faith in Cowards rare,
Feare findes out shifts, timiditie is subtle.
And therfore scorn'd of him, scorn'd of mine owne.
Hatefull to all that looke into my state :
Despis'd Seleucus now is onely growne
The marke of infamy, that's pointed at
Rod . Tis much thou saist, and O too much to feele,
And I doe grieue and doe lament thy fall :
But yet all this which thou doost heere reueale,
Compar'd with mine will make thine seeme but small.
Although my fault be in the selfe-same kind,
Yet in degree farre greater, farre more hatefull ;
Mine sprong of mischiefe, thine from feeble mind,
I staind with blood, thou onely but vngratefull.
For vnto me did Cleopatra giue
The best and dearest treasure of her blood,
Louely Caesario ; whom she would should liue
Free from the dangers wherein Egypt stood.
And vnto me with him this charge she gaue,
Here Rodon , take, conuey from out this coast,
This precious Gem, the chiefest that I haue,
This iewell of my soule I value most ;
Guide him to India , leade him farre from hence,
Safeguard him where secure he may remaine,
Till better fortune call him backe from thence,
And Egypts peace be reconcil'd againe.
For this is he that may our hopes bring backe ;
(The rising Sunne of our declyning state :)
These be the hands that may restore our wracke,
And raise the broken ruines made of late.
He may giue limits to the boundlesse pride
Of fierce Octauius , and abate his might :
Great Iulius of-spring, he may come to guide
The Empire of the world, as his by right.
O how he seemes the modell of his Syre ?
O how I gaze my Caesar in his face ?
Such was his gate, so did his lookes aspire ;
Such was his threatning brow, such was his grace,
High shouldred, and his forehead euen as hie.
And O, (if he had not beene borne so late,)
He might haue rul'd the worlds great Monarchy,
And now haue beene the Champion of our state.
Then vnto him, O my deere Sonne (she saies,)
Sonne of my youth, flie hence, O flie, be gone,
Reserue thy selfe, ordain'd for better daies,
For much thou hast to ground thy hopes vpon.
Leaue me (thy wofull Mother) to endure
The fury of this tempest heere alone :
Who cares not for her selfe, so thou be sure ;
Thou mayst reuenge, when others can but mone.
Rodon will see thee safe, Rodon will guide
Thee and thy wayes, thou shalt not need to feare
Rodon (my faithfull seruant) will prouide
What shall be best for thee, take thou no care.
And O good Rodon , looke well to his youth,
The waies are long, and dangers eu'ry where.
I vrge it not that I doe doubt thy truth,
Mothers will cast the worst, and alwaies feare.
The absent danger greater still appeares,
Lesse feares he, who is neere the thing he feares.
And O, I know not what presaging thought
My sprite suggests of lucklesse bad euent :
But yet it may be tis but Loue doth doat,
On ydle shadowes which my feares present;
But yet the memory of mine owne fate
Makes me feare his. And yet why should I feare?
His fortune may recouer better state,
And he may come in pompe to gouerne heere.
But yet I doubt the Genius of our race
By some malignant spirite comes ouerthrowne :
Our bloud must be extinct, in my disgrace,
Egypt must haue no more Kings of their owne.
Then let him stay, and let vs fall together,
Sith it is fore-decreed that we must fall.
Yet who knowes what may come ? let him goe thither.
What Merchaunt in one vessell venters all ?
Let vs diuide our starres. Go, go my sonne,
Let not the fate of Egypt finde thee here :
Try if so be thy destiny can shunne
The common wracke of vs, by being there.
But who is he found euer yet defence
Against the heauens, or hid him any where ?
Then what need I to send thee so farre hence
To seeke thy death that mayst as well die here ?
And here die with thy mother, die in rest,
Not trauelling to what will come to thee.
Why should we leaue our blood vnto the East,
When Egypt may a tombe sufficient be ?
O my diuided soule, what shall I do ?
Whereon shall now my resolution rest ?
What were I best resolue to yeeld vnto ?
When both are bad, how shall I know the best ?
Stay : I may hap so worke with Caesar now,
That he may yeeld him to restore thy right
Goe : Caesar neuer will consent that thou
So neare in blood, shalt be so great in might.
Then take him Rodon , goe my sonne, farewell.
But stay : there's something else that I would say :
Yet nothing now. But O God speed thee well,
Lest saying more, that more may make thee stay.
Yet let me speake : It may be tis the last
That euer I shall speake to thee my sonne.
Doe Mothers vse to part in such post hast ?
What, must I end when I haue scarce begunne ?
Ah no (deare heart) tis no such slender twine
Wherewith the knot is tide twixt thee and me ;
That blood within thy veins came out of mine,
Parting from thee, I part from part of me:
And therefore I must speake. Yet what? O sonne.
Here more she would, when more she could not say:
Sorrow rebounding backe whence it begunne,
Fill'd vp the passage, and quite stopt the way :
When sweete Caesario with a princely sp'rite,
(Though comfortlesse himselfe) did comfort giue ;
With mildest words, perswading her to beare it ;
And as for him, she should not neede to grieue.
And I (with protestations of my part,)
Swore by that faith, (vvhich sworne I did deceiue)
That I vvould vse all care, all vvit and art
To see him safe ; And so vve tooke our leaue.
Scarce had vve trauell'd to our iourneys end,
When Caesar hauing knowledge of our vvay,
His Agents after vs vvith speed doth send
To labour me, Caesario to betray.
Who vvith rewards and promises so large,
Assail'd me then, that I grew soone content ;
And backe to Rhodes did reconuay my charge,
Pretending that Octauius for him sent,
To make him King of Egypt presently.
And thither come, seeing himselfe betray'd,
And in the hands of death through trechery,
Wailing his state, thus to himselfe he said.
Loe here brought backe by subtile traine to death
Betrai'd by tutors faith, or traitors rather :
My fault my blood, and mine offence my birth,
For being sonne of such a mighty Father.
From India , (vvhither sent by mothers care,
To be reseru'd from Egypts common wracke,)
To Rhodes , (so long the armes of tyrants are,)
I am by Caesars subtile reach brought backe :
Here to be made th'oblation for his feares,
Who doubts the poore reuenge these hands may doe him
Respecting neither blood, nor youth, nor yeares,
Or how small safety can my death be to him.
And is this all the good of being borne great?
Then vvretched greatnesse, proud rich misery,
Pompous distresse, glittering calamitie.
Is it for this th'ambitious Fathers sweat,
To purchase blood and death for them and theirs ?
Is this the issue that their glories get,
To leaue a sure destruction to their heires ?
O how much better had it beene for me,
From low descent, deriu'd of humble birth,
T'haue eat the sweet-sowre bread of pouertie,
And drunke of Nylus streames in Nylus earth ?
Vnder the cou'ring of some quiet Cottage,
Free from the wrath of heauen, secure in minde,
Vntoucht when sad euents of Princes dotage
Confounds vvhat euer mighty it doth finde.
And not t'haue stood in their way, whose condition
Is to haue all made cleare, and all thing plaine
Betweene them and the marke of their ambition,
That nothing let, the full sight of their raigne.
VVhere nothing stands, that stands not in submission ;
Whose greatnesse must all in it selfe containe.
Kings will be alone, Competitors must downe,
Neare death he stands, that stands too neare a Crowne.
Such is my case, for Caesar vvill haue all.
My blood must seale th'assurance of his state :
Yet ah weake state that blood assure him shall,
Whose wrongfull shedding, gods and men do hate.
Iniustice neuer scapes vnpunisht still ;
Though men reuenge not, yet the heauens will.
And thou Augustus that with bloody hand,
Cutt'st off succession from anothers race,
Maist find the heauens thy vowes so to withstand,
That others may depriue thine in like case
When thou maist see thy prowd contentious bed
Yeelding thee none of thine that may inherite :
Subuert thy blood, place others in their sted,
To pay this thy iniustice her due merite
If it be true (as who can that deny
VVhich sacred Priests of Memphis doe fore-say)
Some of the of-spring yet of Antony ,
Shall all the rule of this whole Empire sway ;
And then Augustus , what is it thou gainest
By poore Antillus blood, or this of mine ?
Nothing but this, thy victory thou stainest,
And pull'st the wrath of heauen on thee and thine.
In vaine doth man contend against the starr's,
For that he seekes to make, his wisedome marr's.
Yet in the meane time we whom Fates reserue,
The bloody sacrifices of ambition,
VVe feele the smart, what euer they deserue,
And we indure the present times condition.
The iustice of the heauens reuenging thus,
Doth onely satisfie it selfe, not vs.
Yet tis a pleasing comfort that doth ease
Affliction in so great extremitie,
To thinke their like destruction shall appease
Our ghosts, who did procure our misery.
But dead we are, vncertaine what shall be,
And liuing, we are sure to feele the wrong ;
Our certaine ruine we our selues doe see.
They ioy the while, and we know not how long.
But yet Caesario , thou must die content,
For men will mone, and God reuenge th'innocent.
Thus he complain'd, and thus thou hear'st my shame.
Sel. But how hath Caesar now rewarded thee ?
Rod. As he hath thee. And I expect the same
As fell to Theodor to fall to mee :
For he (one of my coate) hauing betraid
The yong Antillus sonne of Anthony ,
And at his death from off his necke conuaid
A jewell : which being askt, he did denie :
Caesar occasion tooke to hang him strait.
Such instruments with Princes liue not long.
Although they need such actors of deceit,
Yet still our sight seemes to vpbraid their wrong ;
And therefore we must needes this danger runne,
And in the net of our owne guile be caught :
We must not liue to brag what we haue done,
For what is done, must not appeare their fault.
But here comes Cleopatra , wofull Queene,
And our shame will not that we should be seene.

Cleopatra

VVhat hath my face yet powre to win a Louer ?
Can this torne remnant serue to grace me so,
That it can Caesars secret plots discouer,
What he intends with me and mine to do ?
Why then poore beauty thou hast done thy last,
And best good seruice thou could'st doe vnto me ;
For now the time of death reueal'd thou hast,
Which in my life didst serue but to vndoe me.
Heere Dolabella farre forsooth in loue,
VVrites, how that Caesar meanes forthwith, to send
Both me and mine, th'ayre of Rome to proue :
There [h]is Triumphant Chariot to attend.
I thanke the man, both for his loue and letter ;
The one comes fit to warne me thus before,
But for th'other I must die his debter,
For Cleopatra now can loue no more.
But hauing leaue, I must goe take my leaue
And last farewell of my dead Anthony :
Whose dearely honour'd tombe must here receiue
This sacrifice, the last before I die.
O sacred euer-memorable stone,
That hast without my teares, within my flame ;
Receiue th'oblation of the wofull'st mone
That euer yet from sad affliction came.
And you deare reliques of my Lord and Loue.
(The sweetest parcels of the faithfull'st liuer,)
O let no impious hand dare to remoue
You out from hence, but rest you here for euer.
Let Egypt now giue peace vnto you dead,
That liuing, gaue you trouble and turmoile :
Sleepe quiet in this euer-lasting bed,
In forraine land preferr'd before your soile.
And O, if that the sp'rits of men remaine
After their bodies, and do neuer die,
Then heare thy ghost, thy captiue spouse complaine
And be attentiue to her misery.
But if that laboursome mortality
Found this sweete error, onely to confine
The curious search of idle vanity,
That would the deapth of darknes vndermine :
Or rather, to giue rest vnto the thought
Of wretched man, with th'after-comming ioy
Of those conceiued fields, whereon we dote,
To pacifie the present worlds annoy.
If it be so, why speake I then to th'ayre ?
But tis not so, my Antony doth heare :
His euer-liuing ghost attends my prayer,
And I do know his houering sprite is neere.
And I will speake, and pray, and mourne to thee.
O pure immortall soule that daign'st to heare,
I feele thou answer'st my credulity
With touch of comfort, finding none elsewhere.
Thou know'st these hands intomb'd thee here of late,
Free and vnforc'd, which now must seruile be,
Reseru'd for bands to grace proud Caesars state,
Who seekes in me to triumph ouer thee.
O if in life we could not seuerd be,
Shall Death diuide our bodies now asunder ?
Must thine in Egypt, mine in Italy,
Be kept the Monuments of Fortunes vvonder ?
If any powres be there whereas thou art,
(Sith our country gods betray our case,)
O worke they may their gracious helpe impart,
To saue thy wofull wife from such disgrace.
Do not permit she should in triumph shew
The blush of her reproach, ioyn'd vvith thy shame :
But (rather) let that hatefull tyrant know,
That thou and I had powre t'auoyde the same.
But what do I spend breath and idle winde,
In vaine inuoking a conceiued aide ?
Why do I not my selfe occasion finde
To breake the bounds wherein my selfe am stayd ?
Words are for them that can complaine and liue,
Whose melting hearts compos'd of baser frame,
Can to their sorrowes, time and leasure giue,
But Cleopatra may not do the same.
No Antony , thy loue requireth more :
A lingring death, with thee deserues no merite ;
I must my selfe force open wide a dore
To let out life, and so vnhouse my spirit.
These hands must breake the prison of my soule
To come to thee, there to enioy like state,
As doth the long-pent solitary Foule,
That hath escapt her cage, and found her mate.
This sacrifice to sacrifice my life,
Is that true incense that doth best beseeme :
These rites may serue a life-desiring wife,
Who doing them, t'haue done enough doth deeme
My hart bloud should the purple flowers haue bin,
Which here vpon thy tombe to thee are offred,
No smoake but dying breath should here bin seene,
And this it had bin too, had I bin suffred.
But what haue I saue these bare hands to do it ?
And these weake fingers are not yron-poynted :
They cannot pierce the flesh being put vnto it,
And I of all meanes else am disappointed
But yet I must a way and meanes seeke, how
To come vnto thee, whatsoere I do.
O Death, art thou so hard to come by now,
That we must pray, intreate, and seeke thee too ?
But I will finde thee wheresoere thou lie,
For who can stay a minde resolu'd to die ?
And now I go to worke th'effect indeed,
Ile neuer send more words or sighes to thee :
Ile bring my soule my selfe, and that with speede,
My selfe will bring my soule to Antony .
Come, go my Maydes, my fortunes sole attenders,
That minister to misery and sorrow:
Your Mistris you vnto your freedome renders,
And will discharge your charge yet ere to morrow.
And now by this, I thinke the man I sent,
Is neere return'd that brings me my dispatch.
God grant his cunning sort to good euent,
And that his skill may well beguile my watch :
So shall I shun disgrace, leaue to be sorry,
Flie to my loue, scape my foe, free my soule ;
So shall I act the last of life with glory,
Die like a Queene, and rest without controule.

CHORVS.

M I sterious Egypt, wonder breeder,
strict Religions strange obseruer,
State-ordrer zeale, the best rule-keeper,
fostring still in temp'rate feruor :
O how cam'st thou to lose so wholy
all religion, law and order ?
And thus become the most unholy
of the Lands, that Nylus bordr ?
How could confus'd Disorder enter
where sterne Law sate so seuerely ?
How durst weake lust and riot venter
th'eye of Iustice looking neerely ?
Could not those means that made thee great
Be still the meanes to keepe thy state ?

Ah no, the course of things requireth
change and alteration euer :
That same continuance man desireth,
th'vnconstant world yeeldeth neuer.
We in our counsels must be blinded,
and not see what doth import vs :
And often-times the things least minded
is the thing that most must hurt vs.
Yet they that haue the sterne in guidfing,
tis their fault that should preuent it ;
For oft they seeing their Country sliding,
take their ease, as though contented.
We imitate the greater powres,
The Princes manners fashion ours.

Th'example of their light regarding,
vulgar loosenesse much incences :
Vice vncontrold, growes wide inlarging,
Kings small faults, be great offences,
And this hath set the window open
vnto licence, lust, and riot :
This way confusion first found broken,
whereby entred our disquiet.
Those lawes that old Sesostris founded ,
and the Ptolomies obserued,
Hereby first came to be confounded,
which our state so long preserued.
The wanton luxury of Court,
Did forme the people of like sort.

For all (respecting priuate pleasure,)
vniuersally consenting
To abuse their time, their treasure,
in their owne delights contenting ;
And future dangers nought respecting,
whereby, (O how easie matter
Made this so generall neglecting,
confus'd weakenesse to discatter ?)
Caesar found th'effect true tried ,
in his easie entrance making :
Who at the sight of armes, descried
all our people, all forsaking.
For ryot (worse then warre,) so sore
Had wasted all our strength before.

And thus is Egypt seruile rendred
to the insolent destroyer :
And all their sumptuous treasure tendred,
all her wealth that did betray her.
Which poyson (O if heauen be rightfull,)
may so farre infect their sences,
That Egypts pleasure so delightfull,
may breed them the like offences.
And Romans learne our way of weakenes,
be instracted in our vices :
That our spoyles may spoyle your greatnes,
ouercome with our deuises.
Fill full your hands, and carry home,
Enough from vs to ruine Rome.