Part 5 (2/2)

Yet if to bring my glorie to the ground, Fortune had made me ouerthrowne by one Of greater force, of better skill then I; One of those Captaines feared so of olde, _Camill_, _Marcellus_, worthy _Scipio_, This late great _Caesar_, honor of our state, Or that great _Pompei_ aged growne in armes; That after haruest of a world of men Made in a hundred battailes, fights, a.s.saults, My bodie thorow pearst with push of pike Had vomited my bloud, in bloud my life, In midd'st of millions felowes in my fall: The lesse hir wrong, the lesse should my woe: Nor she should paine, nor I complain me so.

No, no, wheras I should haue died in armes, And vanquisht oft new armies should haue arm'd, New battailes giuen, and rather lost with me All this whole world submitted vnto me: A man who neuer saw enlaced pikes With bristled pointes against his stomake bent, Who feares the field, and hides him cowardly Dead at the verie noise the souldiors make.

His vertue, fraude, deceit, malicious guile, His armes the arts that false _Vlisses_ vs'de, Knowne at Modena, wher the _Consuls_ both Death-wounded were, and wounded by his men To gett their armie, warre with it to make Against his faith, against his countrie soile.

Of _Lepidus_, which to his succours came, To honor whome he was by dutie bounde; The Empire he vsurpt: corrupting first With baites and bribes the most part of his men.

Yet me hath ouercome, and made his pray, And state of _Rome_, with me hath ouercome.

Strange! one disordred act at _Actium_ The earth subdu'de, my glorie hath obscur'd.

For since, as one whome heauens wrath attaints, With furie caught, and more then furious Vex'd with my euills, I neuer more had care My armies lost, or lost name to repaire: I did no more resist.

_Lu._ All warres affaires, But battailes most, daily haue their successe Now good, now ill: and though that fortune haue Great force and power in euery worldlie thing, Rule all, do all, haue all things fast enchaind Vnto the circle of hir turning wheele: Yet seemes it more then any practise else She doth frequent _Ballonas_ bloudie trade: And that hir fauour, wauering as the wind, Hir greatest power therin doth oftnest shewe.

Whence growes, we dailie see, who in their youth Gatt honor ther, do loose it in their age, Vanquisht by some lesse warlike then themselues: Whome yet a meaner man shall ouerthrowe.

Hir vse is not to lende vs still her hande, But sometimes headlong back a gaine to throwe, When by hir fauor she hath vs extolld Vnto the topp of highest happines.

_Ant._ well ought I curse within my grieued soule, Lamenting daie and night, this sencelesse loue, Whereby my faire entising foe entrap'd My hedelesse _Reason_, could no more escape.

It was not fortunes euer chaunging face, It was not Dest'nies chaungles violence Forg'd my mishap. Alas! who doth not know They make, nor marre, nor any thing can doe.

Fortune, which men so feare, adore, detest, Is but a chaunce whose cause vnknow'n doth rest.

Although oft times the cause is well perceiu'd, But not th'effect the fame that was conceiu'd.

_Pleasure_, nought else, the plague of this our life, Our life which still a thousand plagues pursue, Alone hath me this strange disastre spunne, Falne from a souldior to a Chamberer, Careles of vertue, careles of all praise.

Nay, as the fatted swine in filthy mire With glutted heart I wallow'd in delights, All thoughts of honor troden vnder foote.

So I me lost: for finding this swete cupp Pleasing my tast, vnwise I drunke my fill, And through the swetenes of that poisons power By stepps I draue my former witts astraie.

I made my frends, offended me forsake, I holpe my foes against my selfe to rise.

I robd my subiects, and for followers I saw my selfe besett with flatterers.

Mine idle armes faire wrought with spiders worke, My scattred men without their ensignes strai'd: _Caesar_ meane while who neuer would haue dar'de To cope with me, me sodainlie despis'de, Tooke hart to fight, and hop'de for victorie On one so gone, who glorie had forgone.

_Lu._ Enchaunting pleasure; _Venus_ swete delights Weaken our bodies, ouer-cloud our sprights, Trouble our reason, from our harts out chase All holie vertues lodging in their place.

Like as the cunning fisher takes the fishe By traitor baite wherby the hooke is hidde: So _Pleasure_ serues to vice in steede of foode To baite our soules theron too licourishe.

This poison deadlie is alike to all, But on great kings doth greatest outrage worke, Taking the Roiall scepters from their hands, Thenceforward to be by some straunger borne: While that their people charg'd with heauy loades Their flatt'rers pill, and suck their mary drie, Not ru'lde but left to great men as a pray, While this fonde Prince himselfe in pleasur's drowns: Who heares nought, sees nought, doth nought of a king, Seming himselfe against himselfe conspirde.

Then equall Iustice wandreth banished, And in hir seat sitts greedie Tyrannie.

Confus'd disorder troubleth all estates, Crimes without feare and outrages are done.

Then mutinous _Rebellion_ shewes hir face, Now hid with this, and now with that pretence, Prouoking enimies, which on each side Enter at ease, and make them Lords of all.

The hurtfull workes of pleasure here behold.

_An._ The wolfe is not so hurtfull to the folde, Frost to the grapes, to ripened fruits the raine: As pleasure is to Princes full of paine.

_Lu._ Ther nedes no proofe, but by th' _a.s.sirian_ kinge, On whome that Monster woefull wrack did bring.

_An._ Ther nedes no proofe, but by vnhappie I, Who lost my empire, honor, life therby.

_Lu._ Yet hath this ill so much the greater force, As scarcelie anie do against it stand: No, not the Demy-G.o.ds the olde world knew, Who all subdu'de, could _Pleasures_ power subdue.

Great _Hercules_, _Hercules_ once that was Wonder of earth and heau'n, matchles in might, Who _Anteus_, _Lycus_, _Geryon_ ouercame, Who drew from h.e.l.l the triple-headed dogg, Who _Hydra_ kill'd, vanquishd _Achelous_, Who heauens weight on his strong shoulders bare: Did he not vnder _Pleasures_ burthen bow?

Did he not Captiue to this pa.s.sion yelde, When by his Captiue, so he was enflam'de, As now your selfe in _Cleopatra_ burne?

Slept in hir lapp, hir bosome kist and kiste, With base vnsemelie seruice bought her loue, Spinning at distaffe, and with sinewy hand Winding on spindles threde, in maides attire?

His conqu'ring clubbe at rest on wal did hang: His bow vnstringd he bent not as he vs'de: Vpon his shafts the weauing spiders spunne: And his hard cloake the freating mothes did pierce.

The monsters free and fearles all the time Throughout the world the people did torment, And more and more encreasing daie by day Scorn'd his weake heart become a mistresse plaie.

_An._ In onelie this like _Hercules_ am I, In this I proue me of his lignage right: In this himselfe, his deedes I shew in this, In this, nought else, my ancestor he is.

But go we: die I must, and with braue ende Conclusion make of all foregoing harmes: Die, die I must: I must a n.o.ble death, A glorious death vnto my succor call: I must deface the shame of time abus'd, I must adorne the wanton loues I vs'de With some couragiouse act: that my last daie By mine owne hand my spotts may wash away.

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