THE Alexandrian tragedy.  
By William Alexander, Gentleman of the PRINCE's privy Chamber.  Carmine dij superi placantur, carmine manes. 
LONDON Printed by VALENTINE SIMMES for Ed. BLOUNT. 1607.   

The Argument.  
WHen Alexander the great, after all his Conquests (shining through the glory of innumerable victories) was returned back to Babylon, where the Ambassadors of the whole world did attend his coming, as one that was destinied to domineer over all: there being admired by the Grecians, adored by the Barbarians, and as it were drunken with the delights of an extraordinary prosperity, he suffered himself to be transported with an inundation of pleasure; till sitting at one of his feasts by the means of the sons of Antipater his cupbearers, in the best, both of his age and fortune, he was suddenly poisoned.  
Incontinent after his death, those that were in great estimation with himself during his life, and then with the army, assembled themselves together, neglecting for a long time his funerals, whilst busied about the disposing of his Empire: at last (after divers opinions) it was concluded, that if Roxane, the widow of their deceased sovereign (who was then at the point to be delivered of her birth) happened to bear a son, he should succeed in his father's place, and till he were come to some maturity of age, Perdiccas, Leonatus, Craterus, and Antipater were appointed to be his Tutors: But the footmen in a disdain, that their advice was not required, proclaimed Arideus, Alexander's bastard brother king, and gave him a guard, of which Meleager procured himself to be made Captain. At this sudden alteration, the horsemen being troubled, they following Perdiccas pitched their camp without the city; yet in the end, this tumult being by the eloquence of Perdiccas appeased, all the captains reassembled 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 undermine one another, and first of all, Meleager after a pretended reconciliation, (though having fled to a Temple for refuge) was slain by the appointment of Perdiccas, who after aspiring to a superiority over the rest, whilst he went to war against ptolemy in Egypt, by a sudden mutiny of his own soldiers was miserably murdered. Then the only captain of his faction that remained alive, was Eumenes, a man singularly valorous, who encountering with Craterus and Neoptolemus, by the death of themselves defeated their army, whereby being highly advanced, he was greatly envied, and (Leonatus having lately before died in a conflict betwixt him and the Athenians,) Antigonus in the name of the rest was sent against him with a great army, betwixt whom there having passed divers skirmishes with a variable success, and some private conference without agreement: In the end, he was betrayed by his own soldiers, and delivered bound to Antigonus, who shortly after caused him to be put to death.  
Then Antigonus (his rivals in the authority being removed out of his way) did aspire to that himself, from which he was sent to seclude others, and having murdered divers of the governors, he disposed of their Provinces as he pleased: whereof Cassander, ptolemy, and Lisimachus, advertised by Seleucus, who fled for fear of incurring the like danger; they entered all together in a league against Antigonus.  
Now at this time Olimpias plagued all the faction of Cassander in Macedon, having caused Arideus and his Queen Eurydice to be put to death; by which, and other cruelties (having lost the favour of the people) she was constrained, when Cassander came against her, to retire herself within a Town; which (by reason of the scarcity of victuals) not being able to defend, she rendered, together with herself to Cassander, by whom (notwithstanding of his promise to the contrary) she was publicly put to death, and so having proceeded so far in wickedness, he thought it no time to retire till he had extinguished all his master's race; he caused Roxane and her son to be murdered; and soon after, Hercules, Alexander's bastard son, which multitude of murders, gave to him the crown of Macedon; and to me, the Subject of this Politragic Tragedy.   

The Actors.  


The ghost of Alexander,  
Olimpias his mother,  
Roxane his wife,  
Aristotle his master,  
Photion his old friend,  
Philastrus a Chaldaean,  
Chorus.  
his greatest Captains. 

Perdiccas,  
Meleager,  
ptolemy,  
Antigonus,  
Eumenes,  
Lisimachus  
Seleucus,  
Cassander.       

THE Alexandrian Tragedy.  

ACT. I.  The Ghost of Alexander the Great. 

back from th'umbrageous bounds still robbed of rest  
Must I return, where Phoebus gilds the fields,  
A ghost not worthy to be Pluto's guest,  
Since one to whom the world no burial yields.   

O what a great disgrace is this to me,  
Whose trophies th'earth in every corner keeps,  
That I (contemned) cannot transported be,  
A passenger through the sulphurean deeps.   

Dare churlish Charon, though not used to bow,  
The raging torrent of my wrath gainstand?  
Must I succumb amidst hell's dungeons now,  
Though over the world accustomed to command?   

But it may be that this hath wrought me harm.  
What bloodless ghosts stray on the Stygian bank,  
Whose falls (made famous by my fatal arm)  
Whose falls (made famous by my fatal arm)  
Gave terror oft to many a martial rank?   

Yet for a prey exposed to ravenous beasts,  
Could never have the honour of a tomb.  
But (though for such rude guests too precious feasts)  
Were basely buried in their brutish womb.   

Thus as it seems the horror of such deeds  
With like indignity attends my sprite,  
What stormy breast this thirst of vengeance breeds,  
T'accuse for that which valour did acquit.   

Ah might Alcmena's son (as worthy of jove)  
Once force th'infernal forts of endless night,  
T'encounter Dis in the Tartarian grove,  
And draw forth th'ugly Cerberus to light.   

Then leading Theseus through the caverns dark,  
That would have forced th'inferior regions Queen,  
By violence used he th'Avernal bark,  
As Conqueror of the pallid Empire seen.   

And may not I down in the centre sit?  
Their renting th'earth (as thence when vapours rise)  
T'enlarge th'imprisoned souls, the pitchy pit,  
That once the light may lighten sightless eyes.   

What though I from th'etherial circles swerver,  
Whom in this state it may be some mistake,  
May not the voice of Alexander serve  
To make th'earth tremble, and the depths to shake?   

Or shall I go above with new alarms,  
To spoil the princes of the peopled round?  
And turn back, backed with squadrons all in arms,  
T'affright the ghosts that are beneath the ground.   

But (ah) what comfort can I find above,  
Where those whom I advanced, lo now in th'end  
The titles of my offspring strive t'improve?  
And to my chair by violence ascend.   

Ingratitude torments my troubled sprite:  
Would God therefore, that with a body stored,  
I might return t'enjoy the days clear light.  
My back with arms, my hand charged with a sword,   

As when I entered in a populous town.  
To war alone with thousands in my wrath,  
Whilst (prizing honour dearer than my Crown)  
Each of my blows gave wounds, each wound gave death.   

Then thundering vengeance on rebellious bands  
I would make them redeem my grace with groans,  
Where now my Ghost hedged in with horror stands:  
Less graced than those whom I commanded once.   

And yet th'advancement by those captains had,  
Whom first my Ensigns did acquaint with fame,  
Doth make my soul a thousand times more sad,  
Than all the sufferings that the hell's can claim.   

O now I see what all my minions blinds,  
My funerals to perform that none takes pain,  
My state betraying me distracts their minds,  
That have forgot all love, but love to reign.   

But ptolemy doth yet by time intend  
Back t Alexandria to transport me once:  
Not moved by love; no, for another end,  
In hope my fortune will attend my bones.   

And must I then so great a trouble have,  
That lately had all th'earth, and all th'earth's store,  
For some few foots of earth, to be a grave  
Which mean men get: and great men get no more?   

Though many a thousand at my sign did bow,  
Is this the end of all my conquests then,  
To be barred from that little circuit now,  
The benefit that's common unto men?   

But of it all that once was thrall to me,  
Lest that a little part my body bound,  
I think all th'earth my fatal bed should be,  
That still all confines scorned but the azure round.   

O blind ambition! great minds viperous brood,  
The scourge of mankind, and the foe to rest,  
Thou guilty art of many a millions blood,  
And whilst I reigned, didst reign within my breast.   

This to my soul but small contentment brings,  
That I some Cities reared, and others razed:  
And made Kings captives, captives to be Kings:  
Then whilst the wondering world did stand amazed,   

All that but now torments me after death,  
Which raised my fame on pillars, that were rare.  
O costly conquest of a little breath,  
Whose flattering sounds, both come and go with th'air!   

Can I be he that thought it a disgrace,  
Once to be made with other mortals even,  
That would be thought of an immortal race,  
The offspring of great jove, the heir of heaven?   

I by all means the people's minds did move,  
T'have Altars (as a god) with offerings stored;  
Till of his glory jove did jealous prove,  
All Princes should be reverenced, not adored.   

Ah whilst transported with a prosperous state,  
I toiled t'exalt my throne above the stars,  
That pride of mine, the thunderer bent t'abate,  
Did wound my fame with most infamous wars.   

Made I not grave Calistines to smart,  
That did disdain a dying flesh t'adore?  
And bent t'unknow my knowledge, by vain Art  
Though known a man sought to b'imagined more.   

All feared t'incur the danger of my wrath:  
Which as a sleeping Lion, none durst wake.  
Mine anger was the messenger of death,  
That many a time made armies all to quake.   

So much Ambition did my thoughts engage,  
That I could not abide my father's praise:  
But (though my friend) killed Clitus in a rage,  
That in my presence Philip's fame durst raise.   

Thus though that I mine enemies did abate,  
I made my greatest friends become my foes,  
Who did my barbarous insolencies hate,  
And for the like afraid, wailed others woes.   

Those tyrannies which thousands chanced to see  
As inhuman a multitude admire:  
And feared to be familiar more with me,  
As from an odious tyrant stood retired:   

Yea there were many too that did conspire,  
By base ambushments whiles t'entrap my life.  
Of all my labours, lo this was the hire,  
Those must have store of toils, that toil for strife:   

And I remember that amidst my joys,  
Even whilst the chase of armies was my sport,  
There wanted not a portion of annoys  
To counterpoise my pleasures in some sort.   

Of those in th'earth most happy that remain,  
(As aged experience constantly records)  
The pleasures far exceeded are by pain,  
Life greater grief than comfort still affords.   

What rage and sorrow seized upon my soul,  
Whilst big with hopes a battle bent to prove!  
That sudden sickness did my course control,  
Which Cydnus cold embracings chanced to move.   

From the Physician then (though deemed for ill)  
I took his drink, and gave th'invective lines.  
Then whilst he red did drink, yet eyed him still,  
And by accusing looks searched guilty signs.   

Not that suspicious fears could make me sad.  
This was the ground whence did proceed my pain,  
Lest death that victory prevented had,  
Which I was sure (if present once) t'obtain.   

But when that I extended had my state,  
From learned Athens to the barbarous Indes,  
Still my tumultuous troops my pride did hate,  
As monstrous mutinies unmasked their minds.   

I (so my name more wonderful to make)  
Of Hercules and Bacchus past the bounds.  
And (whilst that Memnon's sun burnt bands did quake)  
Did write my worth in many a monarch's wounds,   

Kings were my subjects, and my subjects kings:  
Yet my contentment further did require,  
For I imagined still more mighty things,  
And to a greater greatness did aspire,   

The compass of the career of the sun,  
By many a famous victory I won:  
Yet wept that there were no more worlds to win,  
As all had been too little for one man.   

Was I not honoured as a God by some,  
Whilst what I enterprised it still prevailed?  
Whom I assailed I always did o'ercome,  
No project of my fancies ever failed.   

This made me thought immortalized to be,  
Which in all minds amazement yet contracts,  
For I led Fortune, Fortune followed me,  
As forced t'attend the greatness of my acts.   

Yet I have found it a more easy thing,  
To conquer all the mansions of the wind,  
Than mine own self; and of my passion's king  
To order the disorders of my mind.   

What comfort justly could my soul receive  
Of all my conquests past, if that even then  
Whilst I triumphed, (to wrath and wine as slave)  
I scaped not scandal more than other men.   

Ah, seizing without right on every state,  
I but myself too great a Monarch made:  
Since all men gaped to get the golden bate,  
Which by my death seemed easy to be had.   

Whilst from humanity too much divorced  
My deeds all hearts with fear and horror filled:  
I whom the force of foes yet never forced,  
Was by my friends most fraudulently killed.   

But now I see the troublous time draws near,  
When they shall keep my obsequies with blood.  
No wonder too, though such a warriors bier,  
At last do swim amids a scarlet flood:   

For as my life did breed huge broils over all,  
My death must be th'occasion of great cumbers,  
And it doth best become a strong man's fall,  
To be renowned by ruining of numbers.   

The snaky-tressed sisters shall not need  
T'use fatal firebrands, loathsome Pluto's pests,  
Or poisonous inspirations, so to bred,  
A thirst of murder in transported breasts.   

Yet my ambitious ashes once may shine  
T'inflame my Minions minds with strange desires:  
If of their spirits each keep a spark of mine,  
To waste the world, their breasts may furnish fires.   

The beauties once of th'earth shall all look red,  
Whilst my lieutenants through that pride of theirs  
With unkind arms, huge streams of blood do shed,  
By murdering of mine heirs to be mine heirs.   

Is this the gain of greatnesses did I pine  
To be made eminent, to be overthrown,  
To ruin first myself then root out mine;  
As conquering others, but to lose mine own?   

O happy I, but happier far my race,  
If with my father's conquests still content,  
I managed had th'Aemathian power in peace,  
Which was made lawful by a long descent.   

Then far sequestered from Bellona's rage,  
I had the true delights of nature tried,  
And aged with honour; honoured in my age  
Had left my sceptre to my son and died,   

And he succeeded had t'a quiet state,  
Which then because less great had been more sure.  
And not exposed to envy, nor to hate,  
That do against the greatest States conjure.   

But since they mind t'unearth mine earthly part;  
Which now no badge of majesty retains.  
To roaring Phlegeton I must depart,  
Far from the lightsome bounds of th'airy Plains.   

And must I there, that did the world surmount,  
(Arrested by the Monarch of the Ghosts)  
To Radamanthus render an account,  
Of all the deeds done by my ravenous hosts?   

There whilst with Minos Aeacus sits down,  
A rigorous judge in hell's most horrid court.  
Though far before his Nephew in renown,  
He will not with one of his race comport.   

O what pale troops of ghosts are gathered here,  
That were of bodies spoiled by my decree!  
And first the wronged Parmenio doth compear,  
From whom I nought, but who did much from me,   

At the tribunal of Tartarian powers:  
He aggravates a ingratitude too great.  
And (whilst th'infernal tyrant foaming lowers)  
All whom I wronged for vengeance stand t'entreat:   

Yet guilty thoughts torment me most of all.  
No sprite can be by plaguing Furies pinned,  
(Though charged without with snakes, within with gall)  
As by the slings of a remording mind.   

If it be true that drowsy Lethe's streams  
Drown in oblivions deeps all things at last,  
There let me bury far from Phoebus beams  
The loathed remembrance of my Labours past.   Exit 

Chorus.  

What strange adventures now  
Distract distressed minds,  
With such most monstrous storms?  
When silence seems t'allow  
The peace that Nature finds,  
And that tumultuous winds  
Do not disturb with storms,  
An universal rest:  
When Morpheus hath repressed,  
Th'impetuous course of cares,  
And with a soft skepe binds  
Those tyrants of the breast,  
That would spread forth most dangerous snares,  
T'involve th'afflicted in despairs.  
Huge horrors then arise,  
Which th'elements do mar,  
With most disastrous signs;  
Armed squadrons in the Skies,  
With Lances thrown from far,  
Do make a monstrous war,  
Whilst Fury nought confines:  
The dragon's vomit fire,  
And make the stars retire  
Out of their orbs for fear:  
Some of those warriors are  
To satisfy their ire,  
That th'azure buildings not forbear,  
But seem the crystal Towers to tear.  
Amidst the air fierce blasts  
Do boast with blustering sounds,  
T'undo this mighty frame,  
Which (whilst the tempest lasts)  
Doth rent the stately rounds,  
To signify what wounds  
straight t'all her offsprings shame,  
Shall burst th'earth's veins with blood.  
And this all-circling flood  
(As 'twere the heavens to drown)  
Doth pass th'appointed bounds,  
And all the scaly brood,  
Rear roaring Neptune's foamy crown,  
Whilst th'earth for fear seems to sink down.  
Those that th'earth charged, what horror?  
Their ashy lodgings leave,  
To re-enjoy the light,  
Or else some panic terror  
Our judgement doth bereave,  
Whilst first we misconceive,  
And so prejudge the sight;  
Or in the Body's stead,  
The genius of the dead  
Turns back from Styx again,  
Which Dis will not receive,  
Till it a while engendering dread;  
Give whilst it doth on th'earth remain,  
To others fear, and to't self pain.  
These fearful signs foreshow,  
The doubtful world t'appall,  
What plagues are to succeed;  
When death had laid him low,  
That first had made us thrall,  
We heard that straight his fall,  
Our liberty would breed:  
But this proves no relief  
For many (O what grief)  
The place of one supply;  
And we must suffer all;  
Thus was our comfort brief:  
For rarely doth th'usurper die,  
But others will his fortune try.     

ACT. II.  

SCENE I.  Perdiccas, Meleager, ptolemy, Antigonus, Eumenes. 

WHat eye not big with tears can view this host?  
Which hath in one (ah) as the end doth prove?  
A King, a Captain, and a Brother lost:  
Crowned, followed, tried, by right, for worth, in love.   

I think amongst us all there is not one,  
Whom diverse favours do not justly bind,  
T'appease that Heroes ghost, though from us gone,  
With all th'oblations of a thankful mind.   

Ah, had the Fates been subject to my will,  
Such clouds of sorrow had not darkened life,  
But we had had great Alexander still,  
And he those kingdoms that procure this strife.   

Yet heavens decrees can never be recalled,  
And thoughts of harms past help breed double pain:  
Though being to grief a space by passions thralled,  
The living must embrace the world again.   

As one whose interest in his life was chief,  
I of his death have cause to curse th'effects:  
But will not frustrate so the general grief,  
To wail apart particular respects.   

Though th'air be plenished yet with plaintive sounds  
Of widowed hopes that wedded have despairs:  
Yet Time must cicatrize our inward wounds,  
And to the public weal draw private cares.   

Let us give physic to the sickened state,  
That at this present in great danger stands:  
Whilst grudging subjects that our greatness hate,  
Would enfranchize their violated lands.   

Those that are thralled by force to be made free,  
Praecipitate themselves in dangers still;  
And this th'instinct of Nature seems to be,  
What realm not scorns t'attend a stranger's will?   

From forced obedience nought but hate proceeds,  
The more we have subdued, the more our foes:  
A sovereign head this states huge body needs,  
That might make us securely to repose.   

And who more meet t'enjoy that great man's place,  
Wh'of those whose states he took, received the hearts:  
Than one descended from th'illustrious race,  
Whose birth both worth and right to reign imparts.   

If heaven every Roxana with a son,  
That longed-for birth a lawful sovereign brings,  
And till that course of doubtful hopes be done,  
Let some appointed be to rule all things.   Eum. 

Though Macedonians tuned minds not scorn,  
That t'alexander strangers 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 doubtful birth t'attend so long in vain,  
That may b'abortive, and though brought to light,  
Through Nature's error made not apt to reign.   

But if affection carry us so far,  
That of that race we must be ruled by some:  
Though neither being practised in peace nor war,  
As those that have indeed by kind o'ercome.   

Then have we Hercules the eldest son,  
That t'our great Prince was by Barsines borne:  
Who fourteen years of age hath else begun  
His princely birth by virtues rare t'adorn.   Ptol. 

Might not the Macedonians all b'ashamed,  
If rendered vassals thus t'a barbarous brood?  
What? should we bear the yoke that we have framed,  
To buy disgrace have we bestowed our blood.   

Our ancestors whose glory we obscured,  
Would get some vantage of their Nephews thus:  
They warred that people's wrack to have procured,  
And have we ward to make them Lords o'er us?   

Ah, bury this as a'xecrable thing,  
And let this purpose be no more pursued,  
For though they were begotten by our king,  
Yet were they borne of those that we subdued.   

O brave Leonides, I like thy strife,  
That with so few performed so glorious things:  
And death preferred before th'infamous life,  
That bondage still from a Barbarian brings.   

Those loathed t'accept a stranger for their Lord,  
And with their blood gave flame t'an unknown field,  
Yet we would honour them that they abhorred,  
And though being victors to the vanquished yield.   

For Whereto tended that renowned attempt,  
Which makes the Persians yet abase their brow;  
But even t'our countries scorn in a contempt.  
To take by force that which we offer now.   

Was this the scope of all our conquests then,  
Of our own captives to be made the prey?  
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 better wits some better means devise?  
Lest dangerous discords do disturb our peace,  
Still when we would of serious things advice.   

Let a majestic Senat gathered be,  
And them amongst the Imperial chare of state:  
That of th'authority all signs may see,  
Then whilst we compass that respected seat.   

There those that were in credit with the king,  
Whose merits in men's minds have reverence bred:  
Shall in their judgements balance every thing,  
How kingdoms should be ruled, how Armies led.   

And what the greatest part hath once approved,  
To that the rest must obliged be t'incline:  
All th'army by this harmony being moved,  
Will execute whatever we design.   

This concord would prove happy for us all,  
Since it each state in greatest surety renders:  
And by this means our Macedony shall,  
In place of one have many Alexanders.   Eum. 

Though silence I confess becomes me best,  
That am a stranger, and the less believed:  
Yet since a partner of your toils I rest,  
I must unfold my mind, a mind that's grieved.   

And think you that a babe repairs our loss,  
How are the deep est judgements thus beguiled?  
This in all Countries hath been thought a cross,  
Woe to that soil whose sovereign is a child.   

Nor would these great men as is thought agree,  
They be too many bodies for one mind:  
Ah, pardon ptolemy, it can not be,  
This union would all disunite I find.   

Thus would all th'army from good order serve,  
When many might forgive, all would offend:  
As thinking well though they did death deserve,  
there's none so bad but some man will defend.   

And when so many kings were in one court,  
One court would then have many humours too:  
Which fostering factions for each light report,  
Would make them jar as neighbouring princes do.   

No, let this strange opinion be suppressed,  
Whilst equals all, all would unequal be:  
So that their minds by jealousy possessed,  
From pale suspicion never could be free.   

But ah, what needs contention at this time,  
T'obscure a matter that was made so clear:  
And do ye now account it for no crime,  
T'impugn his will that once was held so dear?   

When that great Monarch marched t'encounter death,  
Whist all his captains were assembled there:  
And did demand whilst he might use his breath,  
Whom he himself adopted for his heir.   

Then that such doubtful questions should not need,  
As loving valour more than his own race:  
He that t'a brave man, brave men might succeed,  
Said, let the worthiest have the worthiest place.   

Nor did he speak this in a secret part  
With Sphinx his phrase, a greater doubt t'have moved:  
As breathing thoughts in each ambitious heart,  
To have his worth in Vulcan's furnace proved   

For whilst ye hedged the fatal bed about,  
With an unpartial care distracted long:  
Than he amongst you all did choose one out,  
That for so great a burden seemed most strong.   

He to Perdiccas did present the ring  
That used to seal the secrets of the state:  
By which it seemed that he designed him king,  
Ad so would seize him of the highest seat.   

Thus made this worthy man a worthy choice,  
That no new troubles might the state deform:  
And all the world now justly may rejoice,  
That thus prevented was a'mpetuous storm.   

For if this had not been his latest will,  
Ye Mars his Minions should have lived at jar:  
Whilst emulation amongst equals still,  
Had made the trumpet sound t'intestine wars.   

What huge disorders threatened to burst forth,  
If that our sovereign had no prince designed:  
That oft hath been a witness of our worth,  
And can weigh virtue in a virtuous mind.   

I see consenting signs applaud my speech,  
Rise, do Perdiccas that which they decree,  
Whilst modesty doth majesty impeach,  
Though thou cravest not this crown, this crown craves thee.   Meleag. 

I wonder not though thus Perdiccas shrink,  
T'accept so mighty a charge amidst th'alarms:  
The Sun must make Nictimine to wink,  
This Sceptre weighs too much for so weak arms.   

The Gods will never grant, nor men agree  
That such a one should domineer over us.  
Though vulgar minds might yield his thralls to be,  
Those that his betters are scorn to how thus.   

He prays us all Roxana's birth t'attend,  
Which though it came to pass as some expect:  
He can exchange or cause be brought t'an end,  
As bent t'allow all means when one effect.   

Thus would he temporize though t'our great scorn,  
Till time assist t'accomplish his designs:  
No kings Perdiccas likes but babes unborn,  
He labours well in undiscovered mines.   

I need not now insist to tell at large,  
What brave men be amids this martial band,  
That better do deserve so great a charge,  
Both for their skill and courage to command.   

Yet are the best not worthy to succeed,  
To that rare man that never can be matched:  
Whose memory must make our minds to bleed,  
Whose adversaries for this advantage watched.   

But if that great man did consent so soon,  
That our obedience should be thus abused:  
Of all that ever he desired t'have done,  
I think this only aught to be refused.   

Th'undaunted band whose worth the world oft proved,  
Then whilst their glory shined through silver shields:  
By all that monarchs merits not being moved,  
As conquered, would have left the conquered fields.   

And if that they contemned a PRINCE's throne,  
To whom his ancestors their sceptre brought,  
What reverence would they bear to such a one,  
That all this time was as their equal thought?   

To those that over their equals raise their state,  
Advancement envy breeds, and envy hate.   

If such with all would rest familiar still,  
This in contempt th'authority it brings:  
And if they second not their subjects will,  
Men cannot bear with them as with born kings.   

Our lofty bands some lofty mind must tame,  
Whose princely birth doth procreate regard:  
Whose country may confound each slanderous claim,  
As one with whom none else can be compared.   

there's Alexander's brother, Philip's son,  
That always was a partner of our pain;  
Can there be any else below the sun,  
Over Macedonians that deserves to reign?   

And I must wonder what so strange offence,  
Hath forfeited his title, maimed his right:  
That any now with a disguised pretence,  
Dare wrong him thus, even in his people's sight.   Ptol. 

None needs to wonder much though we negle  
One whose election might procure our shame:  
His mother's baseness justice might object,  
Whom bastardy secludes from such a claim.   

But yet had nature purged the spot she made,  
We with his birth the better might comport:  
Whilst fatherlike in all affairs he had,  
Given proof of parts that might the state support.   

He falsifies his race of wit so weak,  
That all his inward wants are soon perceived:  
All of his judgement in derision speak,  
By which great things can hardly be conceived.   

And though his body might from pains be spared,  
Whose constitution is not very strong,  
But with infirmities so far impaired  
That it aline cannot continue long:   

Yet since in state he never hath been schooled,  
His ignorance would rack him still with fears:  
Whiles he that ruled still needing to be ruled,  
Spoke but with others tongues, heard with their ears.   

A inconstant king great confusion makes,  
Whom all mistrust, and most amidst a Camp:  
Whilst soft like wax, he each impression takes,  
And doth for frivolous things still change the stamp.   

Ah, should our lives depend upon his breath,  
That of himself cannot discern a crime:  
But dooms by informations men to death,  
Then barren pity yields when out of time.   

Thus whilst some always must his judgement sway,  
That still doth harbour in another's head:  
Of sycophants this prince may be the prey,  
That where they list, th'authority will lead.   

And being but base, that they may be the best,  
Such still will toil that we may be o'erthrown:  
And sometime may the credulous king suggest,  
To taint our fame, lest it obscure their own.   

What grief were this tvs, whilst such as those,  
Might make their vantage of th'all-powerful breath,  
And that our actions balanced by our foes,  
Were guerdoned with disdain, or else with death?   Me. 
Since private hopes your judgement do bewitch,  
I'll leave this counsel where no good can please:  
Come follow me all those that would be rich,  
Few have regard (poor soldiers) of your ease  Perd. 

That shall prove best which first I went about,  
Though some would wrest my words from what I thought  
The malice of Meleager now bursts out,  
Like flaming fires that burn themselves to nought.   

Thus naughty minds that never dream but ill,  
Do construe every thing t'a crooked sense:  
What I proposed t'advance our country still,  
He would interpret it as an offence.   

And this unreverent parting hence of his,  
Hath t'all his former wrongs yet added one,  
By his seditious words incensed ere this  
The soldiers arc to sack the treasures gone.   Ant. 

Then let us all of one accord conclude,  
That Alexander's hoped for race must reign:  
So shall w'establish still th'anointed blood,  
Whose government both glory gave, and gain.   

And let us now before we part, appoint  
Who govern shall till that the Babe be borne:  
And circumspectly put all things t'a point,  
That the success our councils may adorn.   Eum. 

I hear a tumult made amongst the tents,  
And Arideus is proclaimed a King,  
To which th'inconstant multitude consents,  
That build on all that changes best do bring.   

The footmen all are t'indignation moved,  
That in th'assembly they got not a seat:  
That our proceedings they might have approved,.  
As knowing all that did concern the States.   

Their PRINCE's memory rests soon despised,  
That they dare thus revolt, and unconstrained:  
Save but by too much liberty enticed,  
Which makes the giver still to be disdained.   

The want of discipline all things confounds,  
Their deeds want order and their pride all bounds.   Perdi. 

And dare they then against that fortress rise,  
Where Alexander's colours once are reared:  
Or violate the walls whereas he lies,  
May not his shadow serve to make them feared?   

What, how comes this? and dare they then presume  
T'encounter their commanders and in arms?  
arms, arms, just wrath these rebels must consume,  
Our countenance will dash them, sound th'alarms.   Exeunt:  

ACT. II. SCEN. II.  Lisimachus, Seleucus. 

LO here a great and a most sudden change,  
All men for mirth were like to have gone mad,  
So that of late it would have been thought strange,  
In all this city to have seen one sad.   

Each wall resounded some melodious song,  
To ravish curious ears with rare delight:  
Strange tapestries were stretched the streets along,  
And stately objects made t'amuse the sight.   

As if his conquests gloriously to crown,  
Of all the world a Parliament to hold:  
He came with pomp to this imperial town,  
The height of all magnificence t'unfold.   

Here Glory in her richest robes arrayed,  
Should have shown all that greatness could expect:  
Yet were our hopes even at the height betrayed,  
To death those trophies Fortune did erect.   

A tragic end this triumph quite confounds.  
All our applauses are turned to complaints,  
Our music marred by melancholious sounds,  
Spoiled by the Cypress, lo the Laurel faints.   

To funeral shrieks our shouts of joy we turn,  
Our gorgeous garments must give place to grief:  
We that so much rejoiced, far more must mourn,  
Days spent with woe are long, with pleasure brief.   

This greatest anguish breeds when one compares  
The time that present is, with it that's passed:  
And ponders the particular despairs.  
That all heroic minds with woe do waste.   

These two between what difference find we forth,  
The rising Sun, and it that is declined?  
Where is that bright Zodiac of all worth,  
From whence the light of Valour only shined.   

Now desolation spreads itself over all,  
A solitary silence grief allows:  
Ah as being bruised by that great monarch fall,  
How many malcontents abase their brows.   

A strange suspicion hath possessed the streets,  
Whilst every man his neighbour's fall conspires:  
When unawares one with another meets,  
As straight suspecting treason he retires.   

Of rumours strange all ears are greedy grown,  
Which (though all doubtful) move the mind to ruth:  
And as all hearts have idols of their own,  
What they conjecture all affirm for truth.   Sel. 

The heaven with wrathful eyes our actions views  
As it towards us that high disdain doth bear,  
Lo all men's heads are heavy for evil news,  
And though we know not what, yet still we fear.   

For since the widowed world doth want a head,  
Each member now doth labour to be chief:  
Which whilst they divers ways the body lead,  
May a beginning give t'an endless grief.   

Some like the fool that thunder feigned like jove,  
Would make their same like Alexander's sound:  
And to bring others low, or t'be above,  
Would either govern all, or all confound.   

Then some vain wits that only would seem wise,  
Whilst by preposterous fancies being deceived,  
Do every thing that is not theirs despise,  
And perish would, or them another saved.   

A number too that all things do content,  
What each one thinks, are still resolved to do:  
They make a choice, then do the choice repent,  
And straight repent of that repentance too.   

The public weal is spoiled by private hopes,  
Whilst many thus the highest honour claim:  
This variance gives their fancies freest scopes,  
It's best to fish within a troubled stream.  
See how dissension hath dissolved so soon,  
All kind of order and confusion brought:  
This discord hath our council quite undone,  
Whilst one would have done all, all have done nought.   

Though that Perdiccas (as it would have seemed)  
As being devoted to the sacred blood:  
Sought (by that means more virtuous to b'esteemed)  
His PRINCE's honour, and his country's good.   

Yet having his companions in contempt,  
He sought by subtle means himself t'advance,  
And so to shadow his disguised attempt,  
Aimed at th'imperial place as but by chance.   

He care pretends that none th'unborn beguile,  
As by the heavens for th'orphans weal reserved:  
Yet wanting of a King nought but the style;  
He would not want that when th'occasion served.   

And Meleager with the like respect,  
To cross Perdiccas counterfeits a love  
To bastard Philip's right, though in effect,  
His purpose is but th'other's to disprove.   

And so providing, that his enemy fail,  
He cares not much what Emperor they proclaim:  
And his design with many may prevail,  
The cloak of right apparels any claim.   

They whose descent their titles doth disclose,  
Being borne in possibility to reign,  
Must be preferred by reason unto those,  
That of all right without the bounds remain.   

The furious footmen insolently stout,  
Bent to maintain a title, braved our band:  
And indignation thundering threatenings out,  
Would with our blood have died this barbarous land.   

O what indignity would this have been,  
Whilst those that we subdued with such great toils,  
Had in this sort their victor's vanquished seen,  
And without pain possess their spoilers spoils.   

Thus darkening all that we had done before,  
(Our swords being stained 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 one,  
More than in many as witnesses this hour!  
Some with a word or look doth more alone,  
Than thousands joined with policy and power.   

When squadrons armed with ensigns all displayed,  
As those that of their Prince all reverence lost,  
His generous course t'have obstinately staid,  
Did best t'abandon him when busied most.   

Then of disorder yielding bitter fruits,  
They boldly marched before th'imperial tent,  
And charged their sovereign with unlawful suits,  
As t'innovations violently bent.   

They by no band of duty more detained,  
First grudged, grew factious next, than rebels plain:  
Like waters by industrious means restrained,  
Which if their dams once break forth floods do rain.   

But of th'untainted type of matchless worth,  
Whom imitate none may, all must admire:  
Through just disdain when fury sparkled forth,  
Th'astonished troops all trembling did retire.   

His stately countenance calmed tumultuous sounds,  
Lightning forth majesty through clouds of wrath:  
That even as if his words had given them wounds,  
They prostrated themselves expecting death.   

Those lofty bands that were of late so proud,  
That they disdained t'attend their Emperors will:  
Then by his sight being at an instant bowed,  
Did beg for licence but to tarry still.   

And yet what wonder though he wan all hearts,  
That to his sacred presence did repair,  
With that accomplishment of virtuous parts,  
As large in him, as in all others rare.   

Whiles when we come to meet as each man sees,  
In this maimed state bent t'entertain some life,  
Still having in contempt all our decrees,  
The soldiers are not staid from civil strife.   

And who can call that valorous Prince to mind,  
That any reverence unto virtue bears:  
But he must be constrained, or prove unkind,  
To offer up a tribute of some tears.   Lis 

His death of sorrow makes my soul the prey,  
Though many thought that I for it had longed:  
For if by those that he rests bound t'obey,  
One can be wronged, than I indeed was wronged.   Sel. 
Fame to mine ears by divers tongues did bring,  
T'a danger huge how you were once exposed,  
But specified not each particular thing,  
Which by yourself I long to hear disclosed.  Lysim. 

When sage Calistines for no request,  
With superstitious customs could comport:  
But with frank words all flattery did detest,  
He was abused, and in a barbarous sort.   

So plaguing him (no doubt) the king did ill,  
Yet to prosperity we must impute  
Those fatal faults that follow Fortune still,  
As being of all great minds a bastard fruit.  
We should in kings, as loath their states to touch,  
Speak sparingly of vice, praise virtue much.   

But I whose soul that wise man dearly loved,  
Whilst spying his perfections thus injured:  
To tender passions by compassion moved,  
Would his relief have willingly procured.   

But when my credit failed, all hope being passed,  
That I could purchase grace in any sort:  
I gave him desp'rate physic at the last,  
That if his life was evil, it might be short.   

The king enraged that I had thus presumed,  
To limit his revenge by sudden death:  
That by a Lion I should be consumed,  
Did throw my doom out of the depths of wrath.   

But when with rolling eyes the Lion roared,  
He by my strength as strengthless was o'erthrown:  
Which to the king whose mind did then remord,  
My courage and my constancy made known.   

So that incontinent I was set free,  
By this rare proof esteemed amongst the strong:  
And with a mind from inward rancour free;  
As he his wrath, so I forgot my wrong.   

For whilst alone he through a forest ranged;  
If it had been but so, to purchase fame:  
Some by that means had former wrongs revenged,  
Bent like Erostratus t'acquire a name.   

Yet that which others did attempt in vain,  
And tired by travel, of a surfeit died,  
I did perform him bringing back again,  
Whilst I did run as swift as he could ride.   

And of that deed my sprite rests well apaid,  
For since that time my sovereign held me dear,  
Which afterwards he to the world bewrayed,  
Whilst in this form his favour did appear.   

When unawares he chanced my brow to wound,  
To stay my blood that strived to die his lance:  
My temples with his diadem he crowned,  
A happy sign, though coming but by chance.   

And O! who knows but once before I die,  
That the success may second the presage?   Seleue. 

What hinders us our fortune now to try?,  
And for a diadem our cares t'engage?   

Those bended minds that aim at greatness still,  
Grown popular by th'army to be praised:  
Do wind themselves in every man's goodwill,  
And would seem humble that they may be raised.   

What counterfeited friends seal trustless bands,  
Whilst in the general cause that each pretends,  
Though never joining hearts, all join their hands,  
And work one way, yet work for diverse ends?   

Yea those whose thoughts intend t'attend the state,  
Have purchased powers, being purposed for the fields,  
With jealous minds their rivals bent t'abate,  
Whilst evils all, now none t'another yields.   

Yet with suspended thoughts all doubtful stand,  
And their designs t'accomplish do forbear,  
Lest all the rest joined by a general band,  
March him t'o'erthrow that first gives cause of fear.   

But he may prosper best whom burning thirst  
Of government inflames at first t'advance:  
Some to be second, doubting to be first,  
Will make their hopes depend upon his chance.   

And by a battle when that one prevails,  
There will rich hopes at a'easy rate be sold:  
For of that faction first whose fortune fails,  
Even all will strive who shallbe first to fold.   

All this to me great cause of fear affords,  
lest that we two protract the time too long:  
And wounded be before we draw our swords,  
If those we not prevent that would us wrong.   Lysi. 

No chance of late hath brought me so to bow,  
But I expect a part of those great hopes:  
Yet in my mind a judgement most allow,  
That over a dangerous ditch advisedly leaps.   

There are t'our charge some provinces assigned,  
Whose peaceful states we manage must awhile:  
Till all attempt that which they have designed,  
Whilst from the world each th'other doth exile.   

Then living but like those whose force is small,  
From which the world no great thing can expect:  
We shall profess a favour to them all,  
And an indifferency pretend t'affect.   

Yet shall not then our thoughts have leave to sleep,  
But subtleties must circumspectly frame:  
The mighty men at variance still to keep,  
So always strengthening us, and weakening them.   

And when th'occasion stricter dealing claims,  
We shall make war with some ere it be long:  
Like cunning Wrestlers at th'olympic games,  
That exercise themselves to be more strong.   

And when themselves have thus prepared the way,  
Whilst that their pomp doth bear a lower sail:  
For at the last their force must much decay,  
Since all must always lose, though one prevail.   

Then prompt t'achieve that which we now contrive,  
By ruining the remnant that remains:  
We may possess the state for which they strive;  
Thus they the toils, and we shall get the gains.   Exeunt. 

Chorus.  

O happy was that guiltless age,  
In which Astraea lived below:  
And that Bellona's barbarous rage  
Did not all order quite o'erthrow.  
Then whilst all did themselves content  
With that thing which they did possess,  
And gloried in a little rent,  
As wanting means to make excess.  
Those could no kind of want bemoan,  
For craving nought they had all things:  
And since none sought th'imperious throne,  
Whilst none were subjects, all were kings:  
O t' a true bliss their course was set,  
That got to live, not lived to get.   

Then innocency naked lived,  
And had no need nor thought of arms,  
Whilst spiteful sprites no means contrived,  
To plague th'unprovident with harms.  
Then snaring laws did not extend  
The bounds of reason as they do:  
Strife being begun where it should end,  
Clearing one doubt t'engender two.  
Then customs but by conscience stood,  
By which dark things were soon discerned,  
Whilst all behooved there to be good;  
Whereas no evil was to be learned:  
And how could any then prove nought,  
Whilst virtue by example's taught?   

Then mortal minds all most pure,  
Free from corruption lasted long:  
Whilst armed with innocency sure,  
When none did know how to do wrong:  
Then stung with no suspicious thought,  
Men mischief did from none expect:  
For that which in themselves was not,  
In others they would not suspect.  
And though none did stern laws impart,  
That might t'use virtue men compel,  
Each in the table of his heart  
Had graved a law of doing well:  
And all did wickedness forbear,  
Through a free-will, and not for fear.   

The first that spoiled the public rest,  
And did disturb this quiet state,  
'twas Avarice the greatest pest  
That ever passed th'infernal gate:  
A monster very hard to daunt,  
Lean, as dried up with inward care,  
Though full of wealth for fear of want,  
Still at the borders of despair.  
Scarce taking food t'have nature eased,  
Nor for the cold sufficient clothing.  
She with her riches never pleased,  
Thinks all hath much, she hath nothing.  
This daughter of stern Pluto still,  
Her father's dungeon strives to fill.  
That monster-tamer most renowned,  
The great Alcides, Thebes glory.  
That for twelve several labours crowned,  
Was famous made by many a story.  
As one that all his time had toiled,  
To purge the world of such like pests,  
That robbers robbed, and spoilers spoiled,  
Still humbling haughty tyrants crests:  
He by this monster once overthrown,  
Did pass in Spain his strength to try:  
And there took more than was his own,  
What right had he to Gerion's ky?   

Thus avarice the world deceives,  
And makes the greatest conquerors slaves.  
Ah, when t' afflict the world with grief,  
This poor-rich monster once was borne,  
Then weakness could find no relief,  
And subtlety did conscience scorn:  
Yet some that laboured to recall  
The bliss that guilded th'ancient age,  
Did punishment prepare for all,  
That did their thoughts to vice engage.  
And yet the more they Laws did bring,  
That to be good might men constrain,  
The more they sought to do the things,  
From which the laws did them restrain:  
So that by custom altered quite,  
The world in evil doth most delight.   Exeunt.    

ACT. III.  

SCENE I.  Perdiccas. Eumenes. 

NOw fortune smile upon my rising state,  
And seems to promise more than I require:  
Lo by degrees my glory doth grow great,  
And by their death that did my death conspire.   

Proud Meleager that disdained to bow,  
And my advancement always did mislike,  
Hath with his blood sealed my assurance now,  
T'astonish those that would attempt the like.   Eum. 

Yet of his fall the form my mind appalls,  
At th'altar of the gods without regard:  
We were too rash to violate those walls,  
Which the most impious persons would have spared   

Lascivious Ajax by Minerva's spite,  
Erst for profaning such a sacred place,  
On the Capharian rocks did lose the light,  
And all his navy to his great disgrace.   

We should not irritate celestial powers,  
Than all beginnings are considered most:  
And by this sacrilegious act of ours,  
I fear that we the hearts of some have lost.   Per. 

Let others seek t'observe such points as those,  
I'm not so scrupulous, for I protest  
Over all, and by all means I'll kill my foes,  
And then thereafter dispute of the rest.   

They wrong the Gods that think their church should be  
As a refuge for malefactors still:  
For with their justice this can not agree,  
Who guard th'evil-doers guilty are of ill.   

Was he not stained with many a monstrous crime?  
And like the Salamander in the fire,  
Did love to live in trouble all his time,  
And alterations always did require.   Eu. 
One humorous head that doth in brawls delight,  
May poison thousands with the gall of spite.  Perd. 
As still seditiously affecting strife,  
He but abused the credit of his king.  
And sent some of his slaves to take my life,  
Such bitter envy did his stomach sting.  Eum. 
I saw, how that advanced before your band,  
You first did check, then chase them in the end:  
And with what mighty courage you did stand  
Our sovereign's corpse (though dead) bent to defend.  Perd. 

He but a dastard is t'a foe that yields,  
And in no conflict hath his fortune tried:  
We (if by time not venturing to the fields)  
Like beasts being sacrificed had simply died.   

But when without we masters did remain,  
Lest Babylon had straight been barred from food:  
I those rebellious squadrons did constrain,  
Even t'our advantage concord to conclude.   

Th'agreement that gave me a great relief,  
Made my competitor his mark to miss:  
For when I came, though he before was chief:  
The shadow of my greatness darkened his.   Eum. 

Yet in this treaty all the world may see,  
Th'opinion of the multitude prevailed:  
He whom they did elect our prince must be,  
And our design hath altogether failed.   

But how comes this? that every captain gets,  
A certain realm assigned now to his charge:  
And with a warlike army forward sets,  
The limits of his government t'enlarge?   Perd. 

I by my means have every great man crowned,  
That from my greatness great things might proceed:  
Yet to make my authority renowned,  
The doing likes me better than the deed.   

I this division chiefly did procure,  
To make the court from other great men free:  
That so my credit might remain more sure,  
And they by such great gifts engaged to me.   

For him that hath them thus to honour brought,  
They must be bound to hold in high account:  
And I have not advanced them thus for nought,  
They be the means by which I mind to mount.   Eum. 

O but your fancies may be much deceived,  
There is no bond that binds ungrateful minds:  
I fear th'advancement that they thus received,  
Have shown them ways to sail by other winds.   

So long of late as they had need of you,  
To seem your constant friends they kindly sought:  
But since their greatness gives them freedom now,  
They do disdain what may abase them aught.   

To those all great men frankest friends do prove,  
Whom without cause they always favour still:  
And can not be as 'twere compelled to love,  
Those whose deserts do challenge their good will.   

This would prejudge the freedom of their state,  
That any might claim interest in their hearts:  
No, kings can hold of none their kingly seat,  
None must upbraid them with so great deserts.   

And in my judgement you have greatly erred,  
Them thus t'exalt whose states you would surprise:  
Their common custom is that are preferred,  
That they may stand, not to let others rise.   Perd. 

I'll make their breasts such jealous thoughts embrace,  
That every one shall seek his mate t'o'erthrow:  
And then I purpose to supply their place,  
When by such sleights the highest are brought low.   

This subtle course rests by experience tried,  
The strongest else is to confusion gone:  
I long to learn how Leonatus died,  
Not that I mind his funerals to bemoan.   Eum. 

That prince magnanimous whom all admire  
Through his accustomed clemency proclaimed:  
That banished Grecians might to Greece retire,  
Save only such whom murder had defamed.   

At this, some Grecian great men were commoned,  
Whose partial grudge occasioned their exile:  
Lest th'other's restitution should have proved,  
A means t'have brought their state t'a lower style.   

And th'indignation that they had conceived,  
Did burst out in rebellion for a time:  
The which the king deep in his mind engraved,  
And thought by Athens spoils t'avenge that crime.   

But since that death ministered them relief,  
Grown bold to prosecute their proud attempt:  
To Athenians and the Aetolians were the chief,  
That brought Antipater first in contempt.   

And being by them constrained to quit the field,  
He in a little town enclosed at last:  
Was once reduced in dangers near to yield,  
And stain the glory of his actions past.   

But yet by accident as whiles it falls,  
It's better to be fortunate then wise:  
An unsuspected shaft thrown from the walls,  
Th' Athenian captain happened to surprise.   

Then did Antipater his courage rear,  
That had almost his staggering hopes betrayed:  
And yet not altogether freed from fear,  
He sent to Leonatus seeking aid.   

And he that seemed his friendship much t'affect,  
Did careful of his countrymen appear:  
But if he had prevailed some do suspect,  
Antipater had bought his succours dear.   

Yet by th'effect his purpose bent to show,  
whatever that he was, he seemed a friend:  
But when th' Athenians did his coming know,  
T'encounter him they did directly tend.   

And though their thoughts in depths of doubts did fleet,  
They, whilst alone, to match him thought it best:  
Then whilst they marched adventurous troops to meet,  
Hard was the welcome of th'unwelcome guest.   

For when both th'armies were t'a battle brought,  
And all the fruits of valour did afford:  
Rash Leonatus like a Lion fought,  
Bent to prove worthy of his wonted Lord.   

But whist he bravely did his charge acquit,  
He lost himself that others came to save:  
And by their Captains fall discouraged quite,  
His scattered troops great damage did receive.   

Yet when the news to Antipater were told  
Of their mishap that come for his relief:  
He not one sign of sorrow did unfold,  
A little gain doth mitigate great grief.   

For he did know, though then his foes prevailed,  
That this great fight enfeebled had their host:  
And then he took to him which much availed,  
Those beaten bands that had their Captain lost.   

Yet that in which he did most comfort find,  
Was his delivery from a secret foe:  
Which did with jealousy torment his mind,  
Though outwardly not seeming to be so,   Perd. 

Thus we that underneath one ensign warred,  
Slept in one tent, and all one fortune proved,  
And with a friendship then that never jarred,  
As Pylades and mad Orestes loved.   

Since wanting now a Lord. that all be Lords,  
We lo renounce all kind of kindness now:  
And secret rancour budding in discords,  
Even every one doth th'other's ruin vow.   

Such is the sacred famine of a crown,  
That it to satisfy before we fail,  
What stands within our way, all must go down,  
And bands of blood or friendship nought avail.   

These glory-ravished souls that would be great,  
Will pretermit no means although unjust:  
Impatient of copartners in the state;  
For there can be no trust.  
Eum. Well, I perceive Antipater doth tend,  
With power, t'attain that sacred prey:  
Which of late augmented now in th'end,  
Through every danger once may make a way.   

And Alexander sometimes spoke at large,  
Then whilst Antipater with Agis strived,  
That he without the limits of his charge,  
More like a king than a Lieutenant lived.   

Antigonus, and ptolemy in arms  
Are join in one, our ruin bent to breed:  
I fear that friendship procreate our harms,  
Unless their spite prevented be with speed.   Perd. 

I'll lodge you now Eumenes in my breast,  
And let you see the ground of my designs:  
Since that we both alike must toil or rest,  
As those whose course one planet now confines.   

Since at his death, I by our dying Lord  
Was in his place appointed to succeed,  
And that my fortune doth a means afford,  
How that I compass may what he decreed,   

To leave that place I cannot well agree,  
As if I wanted courage to command:  
I'll take that which the fates do throw on me:  
For if without a throne, I cannot stand.   

And those that would perform difficult things,  
Must not regard what way, so they prevail;  
Of sleight, then force a greater furtherance brings,  
The Fox must help if that the Lion fail.   

So for Antipater a snare t'have laid,  
His daughter I in marriage did require:  
That so the time might but have been delayed,  
Till that I had accomplished my desire.   

For with the shadow of pretended love,  
And hope of that affinity to come:  
I from his bounds was minded to remove,  
A warlike troop wherewith himself t'o'ercome.   

But to deceive deceivers, 'tis most hard,  
He quickly did mistrust th'intended wrong:  
And from my messengers his ears he barred,  
As did Ulysses from the Sirens song.   Eum. 

This to your state, I think, might much import  
If to yourself you chose a virtuous mate:  
Whose beauty pleasure, birth might bring support,  
And both concur in one to bless your state.   

If you to make your high designs more sure,  
By Hymen's means with some yourself ally:  
Thus of some Prince you may the power procure,  
That will conjoined with you one fortune try.   

What grief were this if you have hap t'attain,  
That fair Idea which your fancies frame:  
If after you of yours none do remain,  
That may enjoy your conquests, and your name.   

Kings live most sure, that of their own have heirs,  
Whose sacred persons none dare seek to wound:  
Since though they die, yet there rest some of theirs,  
That are t'avenge their death by nature bound.   Pe. 

nought rests untried that might enlarge my might  
I mind to match myself with such a one:  
That if she have my power to prove her right,  
May be thought worthy of th' Aemathian throne:  
I with Olympias have devised a thing,  
That may assure her state, and make mine strong:  
The which I hope shall prove a prosperous spring,  
From whence may flow great things ere it be long.   

By Cleopatra may a means be catched,  
That our designs t'a glorious end may bring:  
I mean she whom her father Philip matched,  
With Alexander of th'Epirots King.   

He having heard great Alexander's fame,  
In emulation of that monarch praise:  
Went with his troops th'Etrurians bent to tame,  
Which enterprise did but abridge his days.   

In marriage with that widowed Queen combined,  
If that her mother thus our course assist;  
Whilst I effect that which I have designed,  
Who dare presume my purpose to resist?   

For whilst this friendship doth my name renown,  
It may my thoughts from further fear seclude:  
Since having thus a title to the Crown,  
As one engrafted within the royal blood.   Eum. 

I fear that this your purpose to prevent,  
A number now take arms all in one form:  
As those that have discovered your intent,  
And by the lowering clouds foreknow a storm.   

For lo how many else together run,  
That for our ruin wonderfully thirst.   Per. 
Where do you think that we should then begin  
And exercise hostility at first?  Eu. 

Though we ourselves in strangers thrones install,  
And having Asia to subjection brought:  
Make Nilus, Indus, and Euphrates thrall,  
Yet all those victories would serve for nought.   

Whilst martial Macedon living free,  
The spring that still will power new armies forth,  
Doth not acknowledge you her king to be,  
Nor hath not proved your military worth.   

To those that would pursue a Prince in arms,  
His chiefest realm the greatest vantage gives:  
Where if the war hold out, 'tis with his harms,  
Since that within his bowels th'enemy lives.   

And wars protracted with a people's loss,  
Do from their sovereign alienate their love:  
They lose their hearts whom fortune once doth cross,  
And foiled at home can nowhere else remove.   

He that hath Macedon, hath the best,  
Which of our Monarchy the Mistress is:  
That conquered hath courageously the rest,  
And but depends on Mars as only his.   

If you were Lord of that undaunted soil,  
And by Olympias countenanced but a while:  
straight from Antipater all would recoil,  
And him as traitor to the state exile.   

To you that are a Macedonian borne,  
If matched with Cleopatra great in powers:  
The Macedonians gladly would be sworn,  
And if commanding them, than all were yours.   Perd. 

Yet this opinion partly I disprove,  
Which would not (as you think) our troubles end:  
For if that we from hence our force remove,  
And to the Aemathian bounds directly tend.   

There must at first a doubtful war be proved,  
With those brave bands whose valour is well known:  
Of whom Craterus dearly is beloved,  
That bound t'antipater are all his own.   

And though indeed as kindly to those parts,  
My friendship is affected to by some:  
Yet others have preoccupied their hearts,  
And will discredit us before we come.   

Then whilst that we the Macedonians boast,  
And leave those realms unarmed that else are ours:  
straight ptolemy, when strengthened is his host,  
May enter Asia and supplant our powers.   

I by my judgement willingly would take,  
The course that seems to make our state most sure:  
It dangerous is t'have foes behind our back,  
That unawares our ruin may procure.   

My purpose is, though yet to none made known,  
That Egypt first shall burdened be with war:  
For if that ptolemy were once o'erthrown,  
Then that from Greece all hope of help would bar.   Eum. 

Hold still with you those of the sacred blood,  
Whom to protect you always must pretend:  
The countenance of the great may do much good,  
Whom still though weak, the world delights t'attend.   Exeunt.  

ACT. III. SCENE II.  Olympias, Roxane. 

LEt sorrow then even tyrannize my soul,  
Whose rage with reason now no measure keeps:  
What of my tears the torrent can control,  
Since flowing from afflictions deepest deeps?   

How can my breast but burst whilst sobs rebound?  
Since once the seat of joys now not the same:  
May not huge horrors press me to the ground,  
In thinking what I was, and what I am.   

I was a great man's wife, a greater's mother,  
Even she to whom the heavens their best did give:  
Yet I, even I, more plagued than any other,  
In dungeons now of desolation live.   

My son that was the glory of his time,  
Stain of times passed, and light of times to come:  
(O frail mortality, O slithery slime,)  
Though having all o'ercomed, death did o'ercome.   

And I (dejected wretch) whose dying eyes,  
He was by Nature's custom bound t'have closed:  
Was not to shut his stars with th'ivory skies,  
That tapestry where majesty reposed.   

But ah! his falling in a foreign part,  
Hath (if it can b'enlarged) enlarged my grief:  
Else I on him would melted have my heart,  
And spent myself t'have purchased his relief.   

Yet though I was not present at his death,  
He shall not be defrauded of my tears:  
But for his funeral fires my flaming breath  
Doth smoke, and to his ghost a tribute bears.   Rox. 

Ah, to what corner rolls my watery sight?  
Where it not finds some matter to bemoan:  
O foolish eyes! why lose ye not your light?  
Since that your treasure is to ruin gone.  
Once of all Queens I might the fortune scorn,  
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 whiles transport my mind  
Which admiration only doth dilate:  
I'm woe that me the destinies designed,  
To be the partner of his glorious state.   

And I repent that to his sight I passed,  
Though highly graced on a festival day:  
A feast that 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 bereaved?  
Whilst the world's Monarch deigned to like of me,  
I had th'event of my high flight conceived.   

He of th'Asian Prince whose state did then decline,  
Had both the wife and daughters at his will:  
Whose beauty's glory would have darkened mine,  
Yet free from snares retained his fancies still.   

Then when my father chose out from the rest,  
Those virgins all whom Fame affirmed for rare:  
Though having viewed them all, he loved me best,  
Then thought most fortunate (if not most fair.)   

And when his martial nobles were dismayed,  
That he himself with captives had allied:  
He by that means (as love had dited) said,  
Took from the vanquished shame, from victor's pride.   

Then me as Empress all did entertain,  
Though his inferior far in all respects:  
Till I from him by death divorced remain,  
Whom with his son now all the world neglects.   Olym. 

Although this will but aggravate my woe,  
From whom the Fates all comfort now seclude:  
Yet do I reverence his remembrance so,  
That of my son to hear it doth me good.   

And daughter now, to double my distress,  
Make me at length acquainted with his death:  
That sorrow may each part of me possess,  
Sad news mine ears, tears eyes, and sighs my breath.   Rox. 

Though grief to me scarce liberty affords,  
T'express the passions that oppress my mind:  
Yet would affection wrestle out some words,  
To speak of him that all my joys confined.   

When he had conquered all that could resist,  
A monarchy not equal with his mind:  
Still in his haughty course he did insist,  
And searched out th'Ocean other worlds to find.   

But when from it his navy was redeemed,  
He stood in doubt where trophies next to rear:  
For all the world for him too little seemed,  
His mind could more conceive than nature bear.   

Then ah this Emperor purposed was in th'end,  
At Babylon his glory's height to show:  
Where all the world his coming did attend,  
As jove above, he only reigned below.   

When he drew near that then thrice monarchs seat,  
All th'Astrologians by their skill foretold,  
What dangers there were threatened to his state,  
The which elsewhere might better be controlled.   

But he that was not capable of fear,  
And could not muse of misadventures then:  
Caused through that town himself in triumph bear,  
Backed with more kings, than other kings with men.   

There as a god in all his subjects sights,  
Which mirth with mourning I must still record:  
He spent, or lost a time in all delights,  
That a successful fortune could afford.   

Till Thessalus, for mischief but reserved,  
Once to his house invited him to dine:  
Where false Cassander at the table served,  
And as he used, with water mixed his wine.   Olym. 
Alas, alas, and so it proved in th'end,  
But who could fear a benefited friend?  Rox. 

The creatures all esteemed of greatest worth,  
That either are in th'earth, the sea, or th'air:  
In Persia, Arabia, or the Inds brought forth,  
That walk, that swim, that fly, that grow, were there.   

Then when that reason drunk with pleasure slept,  
Which all things did abundantly afford:  
And whilst that nought save music measure kept,  
With Ceres, Bacchus only was adored.   

But when the King beginning was to drink,  
As strangely moved he thundered forth a groan:  
And from the table suddenly did shrink,  
As one whose strength was at an instant gone.   

Then when he softly was t'a chamber led,  
That Death a title to his body claimed:  
The sorrowing soldiers swarmed about his bed,  
With looks, once fierce, then for compassion framed.   

But he whom victory had still arrayed,  
This battle with the rest bent to make even:  
Did look like one whom all the world obeyed,  
And boasted shortly then to take the heaven.   

Then that he comfort might th'afflicted bands,  
He stretched them out to kiss respected parts:  
More by the Sword than Sceptre honoured hands,  
On which it seemed they melted all their hearts.   

Last, unto them those generous words he told,  
Yet to my life my death doth bring no blot:  
Thus to die young in years, in glory old,  
Of all our family it is the lot.   

And since that no more worlds now rest t'o'ercome,  
It's time to die: I did an Empire find,  
And lived and reigned; it's done for which I come,  
Now my great ghost must go beneath the ground.   

Then having thus discharged all debt of life,  
He with a countenance constant even in death:  
As too victorious of that fatal strife,  
All th'air perfuming spent th'imperious breath.   

But when that it once through the camp was known.  
That from the world that world of worth was gone,  
What anguish was it cannot well be shown,  
I had my part, yet had not all alone.   

O let that day which makes my days all night,  
Be registered amongst the dismal days:  
Whose inauspicious and lugubrious light,  
The world with some disaster still dismays.   

And Babylon, cursed be thy fatal towers,  
Once seat of Monarchs, mistress of all th'earth:  
But from henceforth a slave to foreign powers,  
Still burdened be thy bounds with blood and dearth.   Olimp. 

You need not use those execrations more,  
Though Babylon of breath that prince deprived:  
Yet as an Oracle had told before,  
In Macedon was his death contrived.   

t'antipater 'twas told, how divers times  
The king against him had been moved to wrath:  
And doomed, as guilty of opprobrious crimes,  
His son in law Lincestes unto death.   

And he had heard the king did strictly try,  
How his Lieutenants had their places used:  
Still making all as traitors straight to die,  
That had the same in any sort abused.   

Then he that private was t'his own misdeeds,  
Had learned by others what he might expect:  
As whose ambitious breast in pride exceeds,  
And always did a sovereignty affect.   

But when Craterus was named to his place,  
And he in his required the wars t'attend:  
He thought that it was but a means t'embrace,  
To plague his pride with a deserved end.   

Then to prevent that, which I think was still  
More feared by him, then purposed by the king:  
With guilty thoughts best exercised in ill,  
He sought what might to death his sovereign bring.   

And this the traitor compassed at the last,  
As I alas, have learned (although too late)  
When to my son, his son Cassander past,  
As to congratulate his prosperous state.   

Then in his company he did retain,  
A poison powerful where it was employed:  
Whose violence no metal could restrain,  
But in a horse's hoof was still conveyed.   

He, and his brother then th'advantage watched,  
And for their prince a cup of poison made:  
Thus he that never was by th'enemies matched,  
Doth by the treason of his friends lie dead.   Rox. 

And could, or durst those traitors be so bold,  
The glory of the world to undermine:  
But ah, Madam, Antipater of old,  
Against your greatness always did repine.   

And I remember on a time he sent  
A Messenger, of mind to make you bow:  
That to your son a letter did present,  
Full of invectives to discredit you.   

The king whilst reading what it did comprise,  
Did with a scornful smile t'hephestion say:  
In writing of such things he is not wise,  
Which straight one mother's tear will wash away.   Olimp. 

My son indeed I many a time advised,  
How that disloyal man strived to be great:  
But as a woman's wit, mine was despised,  
And wrested still unto the sense of hate.   

Yet of my son I thought the deeds were such,  
That t'admiration comed they past envy:  
And that none durst his sacred person touch,  
On which the daunted world did whole rely.   

How oft have I those bitter throws allowed,  
By which I brought that demi-god to light?  
And well I might of such a birth be proud,  
That made me glorious in the people's sight.   

Though divers too, as I have sometime known,  
T'estrange his love from me did ways t'prepare:  
Yet were their slights by duteous love o'erthrown,  
And I respected with a reverent care.   

His tender love towards me was much extolled,  
Then when he sought t'establish a decree:  
That I amongst th'immortals might b'enrolled,  
And as t'a Goddess, honours done to me.   

Ah, how can I this tragic time survive,  
That lost a son so great, a son so kind?  
And th'only means that make me now to live,  
Is with revenge, hope t'entertain my mind.   Rox. 

His love towards you no doubt behooved t'abound  
(By nature parents of their own are loved)  
But those towards whom he by no bond was bound,  
Of his humanity the fruits have proved.   

His clemency did make his state more sure,  
Than all the terrors rising from his name:  
Which whilst he lived did public love procure,  
And after death a never dying fame.   

Th'unhappy Sisigambis taking heart  
Of her own natural son, the death survived:  
And t'alexander did that love impart,  
The which was due to Darius whilst he lived.   

But when the tidings wounded had her ears,  
That from the world was robbed that glory of men:  
Then suddenly dissolved in floods of tears,  
She hated life as never spoiled till then.   

And with her widowed-nephew at her feet,  
That of Hephestion did the death bewail:  
Her soul amidst a sea of woes did fleet,  
Whose forces as overwhelm began to fail.   

Then barred from food she groveling did abide,  
Till that the course of life t'an end was run:  
Thus she survived her son, yet with him died,  
In whom she found th'affections of a son.   Olimp. 

If but by hearing of his dolorous end,  
A stranger (once his captive) died for grief.  
Ah, shall his mother on new hopes depend,  
As such a loss might look for some relief?   

And so I will, for 'twere a great disgrace  
To me the mother of th'all conquering man:  
Like other women to give fortune place,  
And yield to misery as many can.   

Though grief at first must mollify me once,  
(Else as unnatural I might be admired)  
Yet will I not still burst my breast with groans,  
Than that of me more courage is required.   

I'll not degener from my generous kind,  
(fainthearted hinds brought never Lion forth)  
Nor yet a mother of an abject mind,  
Had never borne a monarch of such worth.   

And, O, who knows, but once the time may come,  
That I t'avenge myself a means may have?  
And may against these traitors yet move some,  
That with their blood may bathe their sovereign's grave.   

Now on Perdiccas' repose my trust,  
That with Eumenes would our wrongs redress:  
Their valour venturing in a cause so just,  
Doth by appearance promise good success.   Rox. 

Lo, now of late delivered of a son,  
I to these captains scarce dare make it known:  
That else to part his kingdoms have begun,  
And might, by killing him, make all their own.   

Ay me (Madam) this makes me most to pause,  
That still th'ambition of those great men fear:  
Lest by pretending but a public cause,  
They seek themselves th'authority to bear.   

Ah, they of my young babe as moved with ruth,  
Would but be Tutors first, and traitors then:  
Void of obedience, duty, love, or truth,  
No dearer things then diadems to men.   Olimp. 

As those whose courage cannot be dismayed,  
Let us a faction study now to find:  
And whilst that pity doth procure for aid,  
Go tune the people's passions now t'our mind.   

Unless their love have perished with his life,  
Of Alexander, in a high degree:  
I think the son, the mother, and the wife,  
Must of the Macedonians reverenced be.   

And this doth with disdain my soul consume,  
That Arideus amongst other wrongs:  
And proud Eurydice his wife presume,  
To usurp those honours that but t'us belongs.   

O they shall find my fortune not so changed,  
But I am able yet t'abate their pride:  
What? what? Olimpias must be revenged:  
That (save herself) a Queen disdains t'abide.   Exeunt. 

Chorus.  

Lo how all good decayed  
And evils begin t'abound,  
In this sky-compassed round:  
There is no kind of trust  
For mankind whilst it strays,  
In pleasure-paved ways  
With floods of vice is drowned,  
And doth far from refuge  
In endless shadows lodge:  
Yet strives to rise no more,  
No doubt as most unjust,  
The world once perish must:  
And worse now to restore,  
Then that it was before,  
When at the last deluge,  
Men by Deucalion once,  
Were made again of stones.  
And well this wicked race  
bewrays a stony kind,  
That bears a stubborn mind,  
Still hardened unto sin.   

Lo, now in every place  
All virtuous motions cease.  
And sacred faith we find  
Now far from th'earth is fled,  
Whose flight huge evils hath bred,  
And fills the world with wars,  
Whilst impious breasts, begin  
Still to let treason in:  
Which common concord mars,  
Whilst all men live at jars,  
And nets of fraud do spread  
Th'unwary to surprise,  
Too witty, but not wise:  
Yet those that in deceit  
Their confidence repose,   

A dearer thing do lose  
Then can by guile be gained.  
Which being repented late,  
Brings ruin to their state,  
Whilst purer spirits disclose  
Wherewith their breasts are stored:  
For though they would remord,  
They get not trust again;  
But having honour stained,  
And covenants profaned  
Are held in high disdain,  
And do in end remain  
Of all the world abhorred;  
Not trusty when they should,  
Not trusted when they would.  
But ah, our Nobles now,  
Lo, like Lisander still,  
So that they get their will,  
Regard not by what way,  
And with a shameless brow,  
Do of th'effect allow,  
Even though the means were ill.  
Which all the world may see  
Disgraces their degree,  
That should not learn to lower,  
But throw base sleights away.  
What can brave minds dismay?  
Whose worth is as a tower  
Against all fortune's power,  
Still from all fraud being free?  
These keep their course unknown,  
Whom it would shame if shown:  
Who not from worth digress  
T'use sleights that fear imparts.  
Do show heroic hearts,  
The which would rather far  
An open hate profess,  
Then secretly suppress,  
Honour scorns fearful arts.  
But those that do us lead,  
As for dissembling made,  
Even though that they intend  
Amongst themselves t'have war,  
Seem in no sort to jar,  
But friendship do pretend,  
Not like their Lord that's dead,  
That trusting to his worthy,  
Still what he meant spoke forth.  
The great men not for nought  
Do seek the people's love:  
And them their deeds t'approve,  
Do labour still t'allure.  
But Perdiccas it's thought  
Too sparingly hath sought  
Our minds towards him to move,  
As one that still conceits  
He may command the fates:  
His pride so great is grown,  
That none can it endure:  
Yet stands his state unsure,  
Since odious to his own,  
He must b'at last o'erthrown  
Whose humour each man hates:  
Pride doth her followers all,  
Lead headlong to a fall.      

ACT. IIII.  

SCENE I.  Antigonus. Eumenes. 

TOugh stormy discord and tumultuous wars  
Do fire the minds of men with flames of rage,  
That having haughty thoughts as heaven hath stars,  
Their indignation nothing can assuage.   

Yet lo, amongst the soldiers waving bowers,  
The heralds cries, whiles calms the trumpets sounds,  
And peace dare interpose her unarmed powers,  
To limit for a time Bellona's bounds.   

And whilst of fury they suspend th'effects,  
The seeming-friended foes have conference whiles,  
And each shows th'other what his soul affects,  
A shadow of the bliss that Mars exiles.   

Thus men magnanimous amidst the field,  
Dare to th'assurance of their enemies trust:  
And loathing what disloyalty doth yield,  
Not violate their vows, nor prove unjust.   

Though Love be past, yet Truth should still remain,  
I virtuous parts even in my foes applaud;  
A gallant mind doth greater glory gain,  
To die with honour than to live by fraud.   

And why Eumenes as mistrusting me,  
Else standing on your reputation long,  
Did you disdain to come (as all men see)  
T'a greater than yourself, and t'one more strong.   Eu. 

Though we not come to plead our birthright here,  
Let him (but warriors take not so their place)  
In whom best signs of nobleness appear,  
Be thought extracted of the noblest race.   

Most noble he that still by virtue strives,  
To leave his name in minds of men engraved;  
And to his offspring greater glory gives,  
Than of his ancestors he hath received.   

Erst we by birth in war not marshalled stood,  
As at the table upon ivory beds;  
A soldiers worth consists not in his blood,  
But in the blood of th'enemies that he sheds.   

whatever others of my lineage try,  
I am Eumenes, and I scorn t'accord,  
That there can be a greater man than I,  
While as I have a heart, a hand, a sword.   An. 

Lo, when prosperity too much prevails,  
Above the judgement thus of vulgar minds,  
As little barges burdened with great sails,  
They leap aloft being swollen with fortunes winds.   

And as adversity the sprite refines,  
From out the dross of pride, and passions base:  
That virtue in affliction clearest shines,  
And makes one all the ways of wit to trace.   

So good success doth make the judgement die,  
Then whilst the fortunate their ease do take:  
And lulled asleep in Pleasures meadows lie,  
As fatted for the slaughter, ripe to shake.   

Yet this the nature is of gallant men,  
To rest (being in no state too much involved)  
When prospering best most wary and humble then;  
If crossed, than more courageous and resolved.   

What though your first attempts renowned are,  
By which you in two fields victorious stood,  
And did o'erthrow two thunderbolts of war,  
That lost their lives amidst a scarlet flood?   

Yet is that course of victory controlled,  
And you have tried what force your force exceeds:  
Then let not withered Laurels make you bold,  
As still reposing on your bypassed deeds.   

For by the same t'an indignation moved,  
The Macedonians all abhor your name;  
That at that time so proud a conqueror proved,  
And with their great men's slaughter winged your fame.   Eum. 

No fortune past so puffs up my conceit,  
That it contempt of further danger brings:  
Nor am I so dejected now of late,  
But I intend to do far greater things.   

He by prosperity made never proud,  
That knows the frailty of this earthly frame,  
Can hardly by adversity be bowed;  
The Sun (although eclipsed) remains the same.   

Think not that worth consists in the success,  
As th'essence did on th'accidents depend:  
The fault of fortune makes it not the less,  
On which oft-times the hardest haps attend.   

For Fortune bears not still the badge of worth,  
Nor misery the signs of gallant minds:  
Which yet still like themselves are sparkling forth,  
In every state some tokens of their kinds.   

Now at this time o'ermatched by numbrous powers,  
I kept my courage, though I lost the field:  
And vaunt no more of it, for some few hours  
May once to me the like advantage yield.   

And it's not long since that to Fortune dear,  
The world had never me but victor spied;  
Though I protest before th'immortals here,  
Moved by Necessity, and not by Pride.   

Proud Neoptolemus that traitor still,  
Not worthy of a Macedonians name,  
Bent to betray the host, and me to kill,  
Had laboured long to his eternal shame.   

But of Craterus I lament the fall,  
Whom for his virtue I did dearly love,  
And was constrained; (I jove to witness call,)  
For my defence that last refuge to prove.   Ant. 
How fortuned you your forces to dispose,  
So well t'avoid that storm of threatened harms?  
For then you had to deal with mighty foes,  
That were in war grown hoary under arms.  Eum. 

When faithless Neoptolemus did spy,  
That all his treason was t'our knowledge brought,  
To th'enemies' camp he suddenly did fly,  
A foolish traitor that was false for nought.   

There he informed, or misinform my foes,  
That haughty through my victories of late:  
I in my tent did carelessly repose,  
Though not by force, yet to b'o'ercomed by fate.   

And further than t'antipater he told,  
That if the Macedonians at that time,  
The countenance of Craterus might behold,  
They willingly would yield themselves to him.   

Now they had laboured earnestly before,  
That I abandon would Perdiccas part:  
And did protest, that they would give me more,  
Than yet I had, or hoped for in my heart.   

But Love borne free, cannot be thralled, nor bought,  
More than a shameful peace I liked just strife:  
To generous minds more dear than honour nought,  
And ere I leave my faith, I'll lose my life.   

Thus being despaired that I would prove their friend,  
They sought in time t'o'erthrow me as their foe,  
Where love could not begin, that hate might end,  
And came in haste bent to surprise me so.   

But I that knew Neoptolemus-his slight,  
Did him against the Macedonians bend:  
And to conceal Craterus from their sight,  
T'encounter him, caused troops of strangers tend.   

This policy which none could justly blame,  
I with myself in secret did conspire:  
And had my shirt been privy to the same,  
It should have been an offering to the fire.   

When once that the first game of death was passed,  
I Neoptolemus did toil to find,  
And he me too, which happened at the last,  
Two will do much to meet, being of one mind.   

Then whilst we met for whom both th'armies warred,  
Whose fortune then depended on our hands,  
All was performed that force or fury dared,  
Bent by revenge t'abate each th'other's bands.   

And yet the heavens would not betray my trust,  
Foul treason never had a fairer end:  
The gods smiled on my cause because 'twas just,  
And did destruction to the traitor send.   

For forced by him whose force he did despise,  
Though fighting fiercely long he lost his breath:  
As one more strong than true, more stout than wise,  
Whose greatest honour was his honest death.   

But weakened with huge wounds, almost I dived  
In seas of blood, being quite from knowledge strayed,  
Yet by so great a victory reviv'd,  
My courage grew more than my strength decayed.   

I having finished thus this fatal strife,  
Came where Craterus near his course had run:  
Even in the confines placed twixt death and life,  
Whilst th'one was gone and th'other not begun.   

He with great valour had resisted long,  
As all Briareus hands had moved his sword:  
And did his Masters memory no wrong,  
Being with his courage, not his fortune stored.   

What life refused t'obtain by death he sought,  
For life and death are but indifferent things:  
And of themselves not to be shunned, nor sought,  
But for the good or th'evil that either brings:   

With endless glory bent t'exchange his breath,  
Of desperate valour all the power was proved:  
And for great Captains no more glorious death,  
Then to die fighting with a mind unmoved.   

When this days toils were drawn unto an end,  
Whilst th'armies courage with their captain fell,  
That I might safely show myself a friend,  
I went where death his senses did cancel.   

And whilst I told how both to be betrayed,  
By Neoptolemus were brought about:  
My woe with tears I to the world bewrayed,  
Mild pity and true kindness must burst out.   

Ah, if the news of this my good success,  
Had com'd in time unto Perdiccas' ears:  
He might have lived their pride now to repress,  
That by his fall were first divorced from fears.   Ant. 
The humour of that man was too well known,  
Could he have parted other men from pride:  
That was becomed a slave unto his own,  
And for the same forced by his followers, died.  Eu. 
The proud must still be plagued by prouder ones,  
There must be had sharp steel to smooth rough stones.  An. 
No vice than pride doth greater hate procure,  
Which foes do scorn and friends can not endure.  Eum. 
Yet majesty must not itself deject,  
A lofty carriage doth procure respect.  Ant. 
A haughty gesture shows a tyrant's heart,  
All love a courteous countenance void of Art.  Eume. 
Yet manners too submiss as much condemned,  
Do make kings scorned and captains be contemned.  An. 
A humble port, kind looks, words smooth, and soft,  
Are means by which great minds may mount aloft.  Eum. 
Those are indeed for such as raise their flight,  
They may do more whose course is at the height,  
A imperious form an empire must defend,  An. 
Thus hastened was Perdiccas to his end.  Eum, 

That worthy man had many fair designs,  
But virtue still by envy is pursued:  
Though as a candle in the night best shines,  
It in a vicious age may best be viewed.   

There was a man that scorned secure delights,  
As prodigal of pains, attemptive, bold:  
A strict observer of all th'ancient rites,  
And th'uncorrupted discipline of old.   

He loved to have the soldiers of his band,  
Choosed at the musters, not in markets bought:  
And would not flatter where he might command,  
More meet t'enjoy, than seek that which he sought.   

But soldiers now in this degenered age,  
Are fawned on by faint minds, bribed in such sort:  
That having still the reins loosed to their rage,  
They cannot with so straight a course comport.   

For that which was misfortune known to all,  
Their malice as misgovernment did cite:  
All things must help th'unhappy man to fall,  
They thus spewed forth the poison of their spite,   

For hating his frank form and naked words,  
By that occasion whetting their desires:  
They in their captains body sheathed their swords,  
A deed which even barbarity admires.   

Those traitorous troops may spot the purest bands,  
If for a fact so vile they be excused:  
This will set swords in all our soldiers hands,  
Against us, and not for us to be used.   Antig. 

I would be glad that soldiers never thought,  
But that thing which their Generals first conceived:  
Much less t'attempt against their bodies ought,  
The which by them as sacred should be saved.   

Nor like I captains that like blustering winds  
Would over their troops triumph as tyrants still,  
Without regard to merits, or to minds,  
As carried headlong with a blinded will.   

From self-presumption first pride borrows might,  
Which with contempt being matched, both do conspire,  
And twixt them bring base cruelty to light,  
Th'abhorred offspring of a hated sire.   

Such of Perdiccas was th'excessive pride,  
The vice from which that viler vice proceeds,  
That it strange ways for his advancement tried,  
And did burst forth in most prodigious deeds.   

The murder of Meleager first began  
To tell what tyrants harboured in his heart,  
To whom faith given, nor yet the church he won,  
Though sacred both no safety could impart.   

And being by him constrained to quite the field,  
The guiltless Capadocians desperate bands,  
Chose rather than to that proud victor yield,  
To perish by the power of their own hands.   

Yet what against his foes he did perform,  
From martial minds might plead for some excuse,  
Whilst vindicative thoughts that wronged do storm,  
In th'irritated mind did fury infuse.   

But yet why sought he in a servile sort  
T'extend his tyranny, even towards his friends,  
That could not with disdainful forms comport?  
More than an enemy's yoke a friend's offends.   

And when of late by ptolemy constrained,  
He brought his bands with disadvantage back:  
How by the same his government was stained,  
The world can witness by his Army's wrack.   

But Hate being judge, each error seems a crime,  
Then whilst the present aggravates what's gone:  
His soldiers moved by fortune, and the time,  
Did by his death venge all their wrongs in one.   Eum. 

As nought smells well to a distempered taste,  
So to conceits preoccupied before:  
Even good seems bad in them that they detest,  
Men must mislike when they can like no more.   

To you that loathed Perdiccas and his state,  
What came of him could never yet seem good:  
And I not wonder though your soul did hate  
One that had right and power to take your blood.   

For fled from him to whom you once belonged,  
His trumpet still breathed terror in your ear:  
Then all men hate those whom they once have wronged,  
And by no means can love them whom, they fear.   Antig. 

That which you speak of hate, in love I spy,  
Love cannot find an imperfection forth:  
But doth excuse, extenuate, or deny  
Faults where it likes, with shadows of no worth.   

I left Perdiccas, but did him no wrong,  
That first to take my life all means did prove:  
I told t'antipater, how he so long  
Had been abused by a pretended love.   

For as I frankly love, whilst loved again,  
If me the ingrate ingrately do acquit:  
Straight kindling fury with a just disdain,  
I by love past proportion, than my hate.   

And yet Eumenes, I commend thy mind,  
That to defend thy friend hast proved so free;  
And since in love so constantly inclined,  
I would contract a friendship firm with thee.   

Then where that now thy state hath been brought low,  
Since spoiled of him in whom thou didst repose:  
Whilst aided by our power thou great may grow,  
And raise thy hopes of kingdoms to dispose.   Eum. 

I'll be your friend, whilst friend to right you rest,  
For without virtue friendship is but vain;  
Which cannot build in a polluted breast,  
Whose impious thoughts do sacred things profane.   

So long as th'oath is kept that once was sworn,  
Both t'Alexander's self, and t'all his race,  
Still shall this sword for your defence be borne,  
But in my heart they hold the highest place.   

And do not thus as over one vanquished vaunt,  
Nor think me thralled though once by chance o'erthrown  
Whilst there's a world adventurers cannot want,  
I'll toss all states t'establish once mine own.   Exeunt.  

ACT. IV. SCENE II.  Cassander. Lisimachus. 

ANd must we buy our pomp at such a rate,  
That bear th'authority, or whom it bears?  
O, O! how thorny are the ways of state,  
With open dangers paved and secret fears?   

Each of our steps is waited with some snare,  
Whilst from ourselves we all repose repel:  
And through the waves of greatness tossde with care,  
Do seek a haven, whose heaven is but a hell.   Lisim. 

Whilst Aeolus and Neptune joined in all,  
With winds and waves beat th'earth and boast the skies:  
The tumbling mountains do not rise and fall,  
Though each of them another doth surprise;   

As do th'aspiring potentates with doubt,  
tossed through the waving world on stormy thorns,  
That are as in a circle hurled about,  
Ascending and descending both at once.   

Lo, some whose hope would by their birth have seemed  
Within the compass of contempt confined:  
Have from the vulgar yoke themselves redeemed,  
To do far more than such could have designed.   

And some to whom the heavens mishaps will give,  
Though on their breath the breath of thousands hangs  
Lo, whiles brought low, cannot have leave to live,  
Made less than subjects, that were more than kings.   Cass. 

Thus some without appearance do procure,  
The most respected place where greatness stays:  
And some whose states seemed once t'all eyes secure,  
Thrown from their fortune's height lose glorious bays.   

My father, lo, t'attain th'imperial place,  
Marched through impossibilities of late:  
And greater than the greatest, for a space,  
Was Monarch of the Macedonian state.   

But I his son, that as some would suppose,  
Might keep with ease, that which he got with pain:  
Can by no means my restless thoughts repose,  
Such raging tyrants over my fancies reign.   Lisim. 
And yet I think you have an easy part,  
To whom your father did his state resign:  
For it may make you smile that made him smart,  
Some press the grape, and others drink the wine.  Cass. 

I'll not believe that ever any ill,  
Was bred for me within my father's breast;  
Since children must suppose their parents will,  
(Though seeming bad) still purposed for the best.   

And yet my father's ghost must pardon me,  
Though when from us he minded to remove:  
I think the tenor of his last decree,  
Show lack of judgement, or at least of love.   

For what base course had ever been begun,  
To make me seem unworthy of his place,  
That he preferred a stranger to his son,  
And sought t'obscure the glory of his race.   

Thus since in such a sort he did neglect,  
The son that should his name from death exempt:  
As disregarded for some great defect,  
All other men may have me in contempt.   

But ere his age expire th'expected date,  
He saw my brows with Laurel boughs arrayed:  
And spied my skill in war, and wit in state,  
Which grew as much as th'other man's decayed.   

Nor can my courage so be brought to bow,  
But Polispercon shall experience soon:  
That in my father's will, I will allow,  
Not what he did, but what he should have done.   

And since by him high dignities were won,  
I mind to prosecute what he began:  
For such a father's greatness from his son,  
Takes the security of a private man.   

Lo, Polispercon by our power repelled,  
From Macedon hath retired dismayed:  
And for the fear of us hath been compelled,  
T'engage his glory for another's aid.   

Let him not think the shadow of the kings,  
Can match my power with these his borrowed bands,  
For his faint flight that's framed with others' wings,  
Will never bear him from Cassander's hands.   

And though Olimpias countenanced once his cause,  
As from Epirus brought to ruin me:  
Now of her own mishap she most must pause,  
Since brought by us of late t'a low degree.   Lisim. 

And yet Olimpias had a good success,  
When first she touched the Macedonian bounds:  
Whilst Polispercon proudly did repress  
All those that durst resist with words, or wounds.   

Though Philip and Eurydice his Queen,  
T'encounter with their troops in time arrived:  
Yet when the Macedonians had her seen,  
As their own Queen to honour her they strived.   

And hapless Philip being constrained to yield,  
There for a king's did take a captives state:  
And his wretched mate (though flying from the field)  
Was followed by their forces, and her fate.   

Then thus her husband and herself gave place,  
Whose brows of late th'imperial badge had borne:  
But then thrown down in th'Ocean of disgrace,  
A prey t'a woman's pride, the butt of scorn.   Cass. 
Those were the means that did them first entrap,  
But have you heard how after they were thrall:  
To plague the world with honour and mishap,  
Th'enraged Olimpias tyrannized over all.  Lisi. 
Some doubtful rumours did frequent each ear,  
Such as rash fame confusedly durst unfold:  
But yet concealed, by favour, or for fear,  
The certainty to us hath not been told.  Cass. 
When thus the famished tigress did surprise  
Those miserable souls, (as in a dream)  
Her heart at first seemed scarce to trust her eyes,  
She surfeited her sight so with their shame.  

But when she saw by reason of her power,  
That she might safely let her rage burst out:  
She caused about them both to build a tower,  
Within whose walls they scarce could turn about.   

And in that dungeon as entombed they stood,  
With high disgrace t'assuage more high disdains:  
Far from all comfort whilst a little food  
Their life prolonged, but to prolong their pains.   

But Pity for th'unfortunate contends,  
As Envy still prosperity controls:  
The Macedonians doubtful of their ends,  
Would sometime murmur for those martyred souls.   

The people's grudge Olimpias did perceive,  
And to prevent what fury might effect,  
She straight resolved life's remnant to bereave,  
From weakened powers that did no less expect.   

And when some barbarous Thracians bent for blood,  
As she appointed in th'excess of spite:  
Had murdered Philip and his Queen imbrued,  
With purple streams that spoiled her husband's sprite.   

She sent to her, whose soul in grief did sink,  
As messengers of death t' assault her breast:  
A sword, a cord, and an empoisoned drink,  
A tyrants presents, yet a wretch's best.   

Those when the Queen perceived, unmoved she spoke  
As one that had embraced some great relief:  
Fit gifts for her to give, for me to take,  
Since she exceeds in hate, and I in grief.   

And tell the tyrant that I gladly die,  
That th'irritated gods t'avenge my death,  
May thunder forth that judgement, which I spy  
With blood must choke that bloody woman's breath.   

Then looking on her Lord that there lay slain,  
Once partner or his joy, then of his woe:  
Whilst that his roses did her lilies stain,  
She kissed his wounds as taking leave to go.   

And lest her resolution were betrayed,  
Her snowy neck (not used with such a chain)  
She binding with her belt, died undismayed,  
And if she sighed, she sighed but for disdain.   Lisim. 
This barbarous act my breast with grief doth sting,  
Can spite so much transport the meekest kinder?  
And yet in th'earth there's no more cruel thing,  
Than malice raging in a woman's mind.  Cass. 

But yet this sacrifice could not assuage,  
The boiling thoughts of her unbounded will:  
For entering thus she rioted in rage,  
(As dogs that once get blood would always kill.)   

Each light occasion kindling still her wrath,  
The sovereignty she shamefully abused:  
And put my brother Nicanor to death,  
Though for no crime condemned; no, not accused.   

Yea more, her hate extended toward the dead,  
Whose cruelty no flood of blood confined,  
The monument that t'iolas was made,  
She razed and rent his ashes with the wind.   

To be Cassander's friend was such a crime,  
As none could scape that ever favoured me.  
Thus huge disorders did abound a time,  
Where nothing lawful is, all things are free.   

Then when I heard of this outrageous pride,  
That made my native soil contemned to be:  
I those indignities could not abide,  
The shame whereof redounded most to me.   

So that at last, moved by my country's 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 Macedon com'd  
To fortify a town she did design:  
Which by my valour quickly was o'ercomed,  
Whilst famine forced the fortress to resign.   

Then pride unto necessity gave place,  
Her lofty courage was constrained to bow:  
So that she rests depending on our grace,  
To be disposed as it shall please us now.   Lisim. 

This chance the world to wonder may invite;  
Lo, there a Queen that had (though now distressed)  
The rarest fortune, and the greatest spirit,  
That ever any of her sex possessed.   

The widowed Empress that first warred with th'Indes,  
Nor stout Tomiris, though most gallant seen:  
Nor all th' Amazons borne with martial minds,  
Had never stouter stomachs than this Queen.   

Her lives first progress did but prove too sweet,  
Whom all th'earth's treasures once concurred to bless:  
But now sad soul, trod under fortune's feet,  
Her misery no creature can express.   Cass. 

Those were but fortune's gifts that made her great  
All was without herself that made her praised:  
Her imperfections did but stain the state,  
To which another's merits had her raised.   

For when she first with famous Philip matched,  
Than her behaviour was not free from blame:  
But even though she with Argos eyes was watched,  
As 'twas supposed she forfeited her fame.   

At least, her husband feared for some disgrace,  
From her himself had publicly divorced:  
And entertained another in her place,  
Which, for the time, to suffer she was forced.   

Yet this in th'end did his destruction breed,  
For which her spiteful thoughts had laboured long,  
She was acquainted with Pausanias' deed,  
And spurred him to perform th'intended wrong.   

She sought, that by such means t'ambitious will,  
Her husband's murder might enlarge the rains,  
Whilst with authority she did all th'ill,  
Of which too late th'afflicted realm complains.   

Long suffered for the greatness of her son,  
She played the tyrant safely as she pleased:  
But by the course that I have else begun,  
I hope those whom she plagued shall now b'appeased.   Lisim. 

Yet of Olimpias, though abased by you,  
The sight her son, and husband will revive:  
And so may make the Macedonians now,  
For her relief strange courses to contrive.   

Of those whose greatness doth regard extort,  
Th'afflictions must entender every mind:  
And still th'affections of the vulgar sort,  
Are headlong led, too cruel, or too kind.   Cass. 
O, but I can precipitate her fall,  
Even by the means that might support her most:  
For pity shall spoil pity, whilst they all,  
Sigh for their friends that through her pride was lost.  Lisim. 

As those to whom all other things are free,  
Must have their life, and reign both of one date:  
So private men that pass their own degree,  
Can hardly turn to take their former state.   

Thus you commit your fortune to the fates,  
None can retire that enters in such things:  
For those that ought attempt against great states,  
Must die as traitors, or else live as kings.   

And though you would but some disorders stay,  
You deal with those that borne not to be thrall  
As torrents bear away what stops their way,  
And either must do nothing, or do all.   

No, keep not such, to sigh when they are gone,  
That scorn to take the thing that they should give;  
For all must die, that dare but touch a throne,  
Those that might take their life, they must not live.   Cas. 
Since in this course that I can once but err,  
I shall be sure ere she herself withdraw.  Lis. 
And yet what surety can you have of her?  
Can Laws bind them that are above the Law?  
It's hard t'establish concord twixt the two,  
Where th'one must hate, and th'other always fear.  Cas. 
O but I mind to use the matter so,  
That both from hence shall further strife forbear.  Lis. 
What can her freedom and your peace procure?  Cas. 
Death both can make her free, and make me sure.  Lis. 
And would you do such evil to shed her blood?  Cas. 
ay, t'others evil, so that it do me good.  Lis. 
The Macedonians will abhor this wrong.  Cas. 
And yet obey me if be most strong.  Lis. 
But who shall have the realm amidst those broils?  Cas. 
whoever wins the field must keep the spoils.  Lis. 
So to possess the realm you have no right.  Cas. 
But I have more, so long as I have might.  Lis. 
This state doth to itself an heir afford.  Cas. 
All kingdoms rights are pleaded by the sword.  Lis. 
The people all will grudge against your state.  Cas. 
But dare not stir whilst fear exceeds their hate.  Lis. 
And in their hearts they will detest you too.  Cas. 
Think what they will that have not power to do.  Lis. 

What though Olympias in a little space,  
May lose her power, together with her breath?  
Yet there remains another of her race,  
That is by nature bound t'avenge her death.   Cas. 

Th'impetuous streams of a tempestuous flood,  
That drowns all th'old, not yields the young relief?  
What fool that of his foes victorious stood,  
Would spoil an army, and yet spare the chief?  
No, since I must myself with murder stain,  
I'll by the roots raze all the royal race,  
So that no power shall spring from thence again,  
T'o'ergrow my greatness, and my plants displace.   

The strength hath left great Alexander's arm,  
Whose mother's fatal thread is now near spun;  
And I have means to keep myself from harm,  
Both of Roxane, and her tender son.   

But since this course may serve our states t'advance,  
By which a ground for great designs is lay de;  
I must entreat you now whatever chance,  
To lend your approbation, though not aid.   Lis. 
I'll be your friend, yet wish you would refrain,  
From doing this; but ere you be undone,  
Since that I by your guiltiness may gain,  
I'll suffer that which I would not have done.  Exeunt. Olimpias alone. 

CAn I be she whom all the world admire?  
As being the happiest Queen that reigned below?  
Whom all the planets have to plague conspire,  
Of fickle fortune's course th'effects to show.   

No, 'tis not I, nought could my course control,  
Nor force me thus t'attend another's will:  
Since I despise this prison of my soul,  
Where it disdains t'abide in bondage still.   

Ah, whilst I did on th'outward pomp rely,  
My state the power of higher powers did tempt,  
My state that once bred reverence and envy:  
Though now it breed but pity and contempt.   

Olimpias once high as Olimpius stood,  
The wife of Philip Alexander's mother:  
That matched Alcides and Achilles blood,  
T'engender one more worth than both together.   

Am I the woman whose majestic state  
Seemed once so happy to deceived conceits?  
I, I am she, and never yet more great,  
Than at this present, in despite of Fates.   

A double bondage long did burden me,  
I to myself, myself to fortune thrall:  
But now captivity hath set me free,  
That could not rise till first I had a fall.   

The sprite that's with prosperity benumbed,  
Scarce like itself can to the world appear:  
When Virtue hath Adversity o'ercomed,  
Then shines true greatness in her highest sphere.   

Our glory now I see consists no more  
Without ourselves in eye-betraying shows,  
But in the breasts inestimable store,  
That neither Time entombs, nor power o'erthrows.   

O never were my thoughts enlarged till now,  
To mark myself, and quintessence my mind,  
For long a prey to pride, I know not how,  
A mist of fancies made my judgement blind.   

As those that dream sweet dreams, awaked, at last  
Do find their error when their eyes find light,  
Freed from the slumbering of my fortune past,  
I now arise to judge of all things right.   

That cloud of pomp whose smoke me shadowed once,  
Lo now removed unmasks my life too late:  
And now I see, that sceptres, crowns, and thrones,  
Are burdenous badges of a dangerous state.   

O happy woman, of true pleasure sure,  
That in the country lead'st a guiltless life:  
From Fortune's reach retired, obscure, secure,  
Though not a Queen, yet a contented wife.   

Thy mate more dear to thee than is the light,  
Though low in state, loves in a high degree:  
And with his presence still to bless thy sight,  
Doth scorn great courts whilst he lives courting thee.   

And as thou woundst him not with hid disgrace,  
He with no jealous thought torments thy breast:  
Thus both lie down to rest, and rise in peace,  
Then if they strive, they strive who should love best.   

But though thou have not as the mighty ones,  
Thy neck surcharge with chains (ah chains indeed)  
Nor cares weighed down with oriental stones,  
Nor robes, whole worth may admiration breed.   

So want'st thou that which we have ever had,  
Sad miscontentments, jealousy, and spite:  
And though thy back be not with purple clad,  
Thy thoughts are clad with innocencies quite.   

As Birds, whose cage of gold the sight deceives,  
Do seem to sing whilst they but wail their state:  
So with the mighty matched, made glorious slaves,  
We happy seem whilst we but curse our fate.   

That bliss whose show in us vain eyes do please,  
Makes thee indeed a true contentment breath,  
Thou spendst thy youth in mirth, thy age in ease,  
And know'st not what it is to die till death.   

Ah since I lived, I have done nought but die,  
Still when I seemed most blessed, then most accursed:  
Since on frail greatness first I did rely,  
How oft hath my swollen breast been like to burst?   

The Fates with Fortune from my birth conspire,  
To make my life a pattern of their might:  
For both my parents from the world retired,  
When I was scarcely comed t'enjoy the light.   

The world may judge how I was justly grieved,  
Whilst angry Philip sought for my disgrace,  
(A thing which once I scarce could have believed)  
And unto Cleopatra gave my place.   

Then though I long as desperate of relief,  
For his offence afflicted had my mind:  
Yet did his sudden death augment my grief,  
He was my husband, though he was unkind.   

And when my sons rare trophies, and renown,  
With wonder filled the world, and me with joy:  
Those as himself that strived to throw his down,  
Did to supplant my state their powers employ.   

Yet stood my courage when my fortune fell,  
And still I toiled distracted from repose:  
Those that had him betrayed from th'earth t'expel,  
And with their blood to register my woes.   

And my designs a time so prospered too,  
That some of them did try by torments strange,  
All what a woman's just disdain could do,  
Whilst spurred by jealousy, spite and revenge.   

But this arch-traitor ruler of the rest,  
That thirsts to drink the blood of all our race:  
Even then when my design succeeded best,  
Did compass me with ruin and disgrace.   

Such was the tenor of my fortune past,  
Whose least mishap had made another burst:  
First orphaned, widowed, and unchilded last,  
A daughter, wife, and mother all accursed.   

heavens plague Cassander, let that base wretch try,  
That jove his judgement but a while defers,  
And let his wife bewail as well as I,  
I murdered for my son, and she by hers.   

even as th'incestuous. thehan's monstrous brood,  
So may thy sons contend with mutual wounds:  
And never let thy house be free from blood,  
Till quite excluded from th'usurped bounds.   

Thus notwithstanding of my wonted power,  
To me, save wishes, nothing doth remain:  
But though condemned to die, yet at this hour  
Should I begin to curse, and to complain?   

No no, that custom best becomes poor souls,  
Whose resolution cannot climb more high:  
But I whose courage that base course controls,  
Must still triumph whatever state I try.   

Death is an open haven t'each storm-tossed mind,  
Since th'end of labour, th'entry unto rest:  
Death hath the bounds of misery confined,  
Whose sanctuary saves th'afflicted best.   

To suffer whiles with a courageous heart,  
It merits far more praise than deeds most known,  
For in our actions Fortune hath a part,  
But in our sufferings, all things are our own.   

Lo now I loath the world and worldly things,  
Of which I have both proved the best and worst:  
Yea th'apprehended death great comfort brings,  
And hath no cross but that it should be forced.   

O hear me now (dear son) 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 remain with thee.   

And blush not son to see thy mother's end,  
My death in glory with thy life shall strive:  
It Fortune as a captive shall attend,  
That as thy fellow followed thee alive.   Exit. 

Chorus.  

AH, ah, though man since th'image of great jove,  
And th' only creature that gives Reason place,  
Made to make faith below of powers above,  
Should seek his heavenly progeny to prove,  
By still resembling most th'immortal kind,  
Yet makes the world our better part so blind,  
That we the clouds of vanity embrace,  
And from our first excellency decline.  
This doth extinguish that celestial grace,  
Which should make souls to burn with virtues love,  
Whose fancies vice luxuriously now feasts,  
Vice is the Circe that enchants the mind,  
And doth transform her followers all in swine:  
Whilst poisoned pleasures so corrupt our tastes,  
That of halfgods we make ourselves whole-beasts.  
And yet of ruthless Pluto's raging host,  
The vice that doth transport presumptuous hearts,  
And makes men from the gods to differ most.  
'tis cruelty, that to the sufferers cost  
And actors both, must oftentimes b'appeased.  
The gods delight to give, and to forgive,  
By pardoning more than by plaguing pleased.  
And why should men excogitate strange arts,  
T'extend their tyranny as those that strive  
To feed on mischief still, though th' Author smarts  
Oft for the deed of which himself did boast,  
Whilst whence the blow first come the grief doth turn,  
For that by which the mind at first was eased,  
May it in end the greatest burden give.  
Oft those whose cruelty makes many mourn,  
Do by the fires that they first kindled burn:  
Of th'other tyrants that extort the mind,  
With pleasure some delight it in such sort,  
That first the honey, than the gall we find;  
And others, though from honour's court declined  
Some comfort yield, though base by hope of gain:  
And though some make us to be loathed of one,  
We by their means another's love obtain.  
But cruelty, with which none can comport,  
Makes th'author hated when the deed is gone.  
Oft even by those whom it did most support,  
As that which alienates men from kind,  
And as humanity the mind enchants,  
So savage souls that from the same refrain,  
More fierce than fiercest beasts are loved of none.  
With barbarous beasts one with less danger haunts,  
Than with the man whose mind all mercy wants;  
Yet though the mind of man, as strong, and rude,  
Be ravished, whiles with violent desire,  
And must, if sired with rage, be quenched with blood.  
How can this tender sex whose glory stood  
In having hearts inclined to pity still,  
Delight itself by any barbarous deed?  
For Nature seems in this t'have used her skill,  
In making women's minds, though weak, entire,  
That weakness might love, and devotion breed,  
To which their thoughts, if pure, might best aspire,  
As aptest for th'impression of all good:  
But from the best to worst all things do wear,  
Since cruelties from feeble minds proceed:  
In breasts where courage fails, spite, shame, and fear  
Make envy, hate, and rigour rule to bear.  
Our Queen Olimpias, that was once so great,  
And did such monstrous cruelties commit:  
In plaguing Philip, and his Lady of late.  
Lo, now being brought to taste the like estate,  
Must take such entertainment as she gave.  
And it's good reason that it should be so;  
Such measure as we give we must receive,  
Whilst on a throne she did superbly sit,  
And with disdainful eyes looked on her foe,  
As but being vanquished by her power and wit.  
Not mindful of th'inevitable fate.  
O, th' immortals that command above,  
Of every state in hand the rudder have:  
And as they lie, can make us stay or go:  
The grief of others should us greatly move,  
As those that sometime may like fortune prove.  
But as experience with rare proofs hath shown,  
Do look on others, we have Linx-his eyes:  
Whilst we would have their imperfections known,  
Yet like blind Moles can never mark our own.  
Such clouds of self-regard do dim our sight,  
Why should we be puffed up by o'enemy fall?  
Since what the day doth on another light,  
The same the morrow may our state surprise.  
Those that on this inconstant constant ball,  
Do live environed with th'all-circling skies,  
Have many means whereby to be o'erthrown,  
And why should dying worldlings swollen with wroth,  
So tyrannize over an afflicted wight?  
Since miseries are common unto all,  
Let none be proud that draws a doubtful breath;  
Good hap attends but few still till their death.      

ACT. V.  

SCENE I.  Aristotle. Photion. 

LOng have I now enured th'eyes of my mind,  
On nature's labours curiously to look:  
And of all creatures finding forth the kind,  
Strange wonders read in th'universal book.   

I mark the world by contraries maintained,  
Whose harmony doth most subsist by strife:  
Whilst of all things within the same contained,  
The death of one still gives another life.   

But as all things are subject unto change,  
That partners are of th'elemental powers:  
So rolled about with revolutions strange,  
The state of man rests constant but few hours,   

For what doth fame more frequently report,  
Then of our sudden rising; and our falls?  
I think the world is but a tennis-court,  
Where men are tossde by fortune as her balls.   Phoc. 

And never any age showed more than this,  
The wavering state of soul-ennobled wights;  
That soar too high to seize on th'airy bliss,  
Whilst lowest falls attend the highest flights.   

The matchless Monarch that was borne it seemed,  
To show how high mortality attains:  
Hath not from death the adored flesh redeemed,  
But pain hath made an end of all his pains.   

And these brave bands that furnished fame with breath,  
Whilst all the world their valorous deeds did spy:  
Rest now confounded (since their sovereign's death)  
Like Poliphemus having lost his eye:   

And they are like that teeth-engendered brood,  
That took their life out of a monster dead:  
Whiles each of them pursues for other's blood,  
Since the great Dragon's death that was their head.   Ari. 

So change all things that subject are t'our sight;  
Disorder order breeds, and order it,  
Next night comes darkness, and next darkness light.  
This never changing change transcends our wit.   

Thus poverty and riches, sickness, health:  
Both honour and dishonour, life and death,  
Do so depend on other, that by stealth,  
All go and come as th'accidents of breath.   

t'each worldly state the heavens a height appoint,  
Where when it once arrives it must descend:  
And all perfections have a fatal point,  
At which excellency itself must end.   

But as all those that walk on th'earth are crossed  
With alterations, happening oft and strange:  
The greatest states with greatest storms are tossde,  
And sought of many must make many a change.   

Nor speak I this by speculation now,  
As gathering credit out of ancient scrolls: souls.  
No, I have lived at court and I know how,  
there's nought on th'earth more vexed, then great men's souls.   

thralled to the tyrant honour, whilst they moan  
Their plaints to subjects ears ashamed t'empart:  
They must bear all the weight of woes alone,  
Where others of their grief lend friends a part.   

Their rising us above to such a height,  
Which seems their best is worst, whilst since being lords:  
They never hear the truth that comes to light,  
When frank society speaks naked words.   

Whilst sadness, whiles seems majesty, time tells  
How dear they buy their pomp with loss of rest:  
Some feign three furies but in all the hells,  
And there's three thousand in one great man's breast.   Phoc. 

I think all monarchies are like the Moon,  
Which whiles eclipsed, whiles under cloud, whiles clear,  
Grows by degrees, and is when full, undone;  
Yet Aeson like renewed doth reappear.  
For so the first, but small, begin to shine,  
And when they once their spheric form obtain,  
Do then begin to languish and decline;  
Yet fallen in other realms, do rise again.  
Th' Assyrians once made many a nation bow;  
Then next, all power was in the Persians hand:  
And lo, the Macedonians monarchs now  
Amongst themselves divided cannot stand.   Arist. 

A secret fate, alternantly all things  
Doth in this circle circularly lead:  
Still generation from corruption springs,  
To th'end that some may live, some must be dead.  
Each Element another's strength devours;  
Th'air to the fire succumbs, the fire to rain:  
The water strives to drown all th'earth with showers,  
Which it by vapours vomits out again.  
Thus with a gordian knot together bound,  
All things are made, unmade, and made again:  
Whilst ruin sounds, perfection doth confound,  
And nothing in one state doth long remain.  
But nought in th'earth more dangerously stands  
Than sovereignty, that's rated at such worth,  
Which like the stormy deities blustering bands,  
Doth fly from East to West, from South to North.   Ph. 

A long experience now makes this nought strange,  
Though mighty states whose reins one only leads;  
Be whiles distracted and constrained to change,  
As too great bodies for so little heads,   

Since every Commonwealth where all men's wits  
Do join in one, t'increase the public ease,  
Is subject oft to fevers, and to fits,  
Which Physic whiles, whiles poison must appease.   

For (ah) the multitude more rash than wise,  
A Hydra-headed beast whilst nought it binds,  
Doth passionately praise, or else despise,  
As some preposterous fancies move their minds.   

Oft vice and virtue have like danger bred,  
Whilst envy th'one procured, and th'other hate:  
By jealousy, or emulation dread,  
Those ruined are by it that raised the state.   Arist. 

Whilst some their betters, others equal scorn,  
The government that's popular decay:  
And when it dies the Monarchy is borne,  
Whose violence disorders broils allays.   

It from corruption doth continue clean,  
As freest from infirmities we find:  
Still whilst it humbly high, doth hold a mean,  
Twixt tyranny, and too remiss a mind.   

But though th'one-headed state may flourish long,  
Whilst th'one knows to command, the rest t'obey:  
Whilst guerdon follows goodness, vengeance wrong,  
That virtue cherished is, vice made decay.   

Yet (if nought else) time doth great states o'ercome,  
Heavens have confined all by some fatal hour:  
And there may many misadventures come  
To dissipate the most united power.   

For huge mishaps a monarchy may mar,  
When once prosperity begins t'expire:  
To further which, whiles strangers must make war,  
And whiles seditious subjects may conspire.   

As jealousy, or else ambition moves,  
All Princes would suppress aspirers still:  
And then a subjects course most dangerous proves,  
When either fear or hope transports his will.   

But though to the beginning, and to th'end  
Great states are guided by a secret fate:  
Yet their designed destruction doth depend,  
Still, either on contempt, or else on hate;   

Of those the first king's lack of courage breeds,  
Which makes th'ambitious minds t'attempt more bold:  
And th'other doth attend tyrannic deeds,  
By violence t'have violence controlled.   Phoc. 

Yet never did so many monarchs fall,  
By foreign battles, nor intestine broils,  
As by themselves, that seeming free, were thrall,  
Whilst smooth-tongued minions gloried of their spoils.   

Those that have reigned by choice, by birth, or worth,  
Or yet through others errors, or their crime,  
Oft suffer ugly vices to burst forth,  
Which virtues colours gilted till that time.   

Men are deciphered best than whilst they rest  
Most high advanced being free from hope or fear:  
That which is eminent is marked best,  
And highest fortunes hardest are to bear.   

Low fortune's cloak the faults that some commit,  
Whilst imperfections th'earth perfections deems,  
Stupidity seems patience, fear seems wit,  
Will constancy, and softness goodness seems.   

But when in the world's theatre one must stand,  
A public actor placed in all men's sight:  
And sways the sign of power, and in his hand  
Doth hold the balance both of wrong and right;   

Then he for every action that is his,  
The censure of a thousand tongues must have,  
Not only damned for doing of things amiss,  
But for not doing of all that all men crave.   

O, he but undermines the sovereign state,  
That cares not who be weak so he be strong:  
More studious for himself then for the state,  
Or if for it that he may hold it long.   

For where jove him for all men's good ordains,  
He thinks both them and theirs made him to please,  
As if a charge of weight, a place of pains,  
Were but a bed of rest, a haven of ease.   

The world's great weight that Atlas shoulders bear,  
Is not so weighty all to weigh one down,  
As that which on his head a king doth wear.  
There is no burden heavier than a crown.   

The Aegean waves more easy are t'appease,  
Than are their thoughts whose mind for state prepares:  
Can they have rest that toil for all men's ease?  
The purple ever must be lined with cares.   Arist. 

Good kings are like the fire, which flaming bright  
Doth waste itself, to serve another's turn:  
And sovereignty is like fires glancing light,  
Which if but viewed, delights, if touched, doth burn.   

I like for warmness to stand Vulcan by,  
More than to burn amidst the Lemnian flame:  
And rather in the Cedars shadow lie,  
Than on the top to stand the wind-gods game.   

All th'eye-attracting pomp, and splendorous shows  
Do merit scorn, though they amazement breed:  
The world them pity more than envy owes,  
That to seem happy would be wretched indeed.   

For alterations strange attend a throne;  
As if the sphere of fortune were a crown,  
The great still tossde, like Sisyphus his stone,  
Whilst highest up, rest readiest to fall down.   

Of this what greater proof can Fame afford,  
Then mighty Philip's memorable fall:  
That daunted had the Grecians by the sword,  
Though not till then t'a stranger being made thrall?   

He, he, then whilst he solemnized with state,  
His daughter's marriage, suddenly was lost:  
So that it seemed that monarch's days to date,  
That Hymen's torch gave light to Pluto's post.   

Then when that I conceived with grief of heart  
The miseries that proper were to court:  
I thought them happy that retired apart,  
Could never know such things, but by report.   

I might have lived with Alexander still,  
To virtuous men, whose savours were not scarce:  
Yet rather chose, though having both at will,  
T'obey with Pallas, then command with Mars.   

And whilst he toiled over others Lord to be,  
I laboured over myself to be made Lord:  
Yet made as great a conquest too as he:  
My pen shall be as famous as his sword.   Phoc. 

And had I willingly engaged my rest,  
The way to trace, that to vainglory tends:  
I might have lived respected with the best,  
As one of Alexander's chiefest friends.   

For though of him that I did merit nought,  
He entertained my friendship till his death:  
And when he once our cities o'erthrow sought,  
At my request he pacified his wrath.   

Then once to me a mass of gold he sent,  
And offered too a stately Asian town  
Which I refused, pleased more with my poor rent,  
Than he with all the treasures of a crown.   

I told, that such a sum but served, to make  
Him a corrupter, me corrupted thought:  
And foul for him to give, for me to take,  
If used, shamed both, unused, did serve for nought.   

But all those baits I never deigned to touch,  
Lest I that all my life had lived so free  
Might be possessed too much; possessing much,  
If taking riches, it had taken me.   

No, I would rather learn to live on less,  
Than for superfluous furniture to strive:  
Who seeks out substance t'entertain excess,  
Doth live t'use it, not it that he may live.   

My fortune doth afford sufficient means,  
That may preserve all Nature's powers in force:  
And he that on a golden sceptre leans,  
Can not have more, but may well use it worse.   

Ah, since abundance but abuses brings,  
Why seek men more than serves t'have Nature eased?  
And why should men toil for so many things,  
Since Nature with a little can be pleased?   Arist. 

Lo how the heavens, whose love towards man exceeds,  
Have made his body strong, his mind divine:  
And have made th'earth to furnish all his needs,  
Lest down-weighed cares might make his thoughts decline.   

So that he hath a means to raise his flight,  
If winged with Virtue, and may mounting high,  
Aspire t'approach to the celestial light,  
And deify himself before he die.   

Yet doth he straight forego that glorious way,  
To toil for things that th'earth unforced affords:  
The which his wants first framed were to defray,  
But by himself are of his life made Lords.   

O how unworthy of the worth of man,  
Are many labours that delight him most,  
Since that corruption boldly first began,  
To make men nourish vice at virtues cost.   

And now what hath great Alexander gained  
By endless labours, and excessive cares?  
Of whom lo now it's only said he reigned,  
But death unto himself, worse to his heirs.   

Lo, for the guiltless blood that he hath spilled;  
The partners of his conquests do begin  
To die by the same swords by which they killed,  
And all his offspring expiates his sin.   Pho. 

Such is the revolution of all things,  
The wheel of Fortune still must slippery prove,  
And chiefly when it burdened is with kings,  
Whose states as weightiest most must make it move.   

Yet Alexander I must say was blessed,  
That over the world a victor always ranged:  
And having ended all his wars, in rest,  
Did die in time before his fortune changed.   

And for his favour which I oft did try,  
Whilst earnestly he laboured me t'advance:  
Whilst earnestly he laboured me t'advance:  
I'm sorry that himself so soon did die,  
And that his offspring hath so hard a chance.   

His successors have set all Greece on fire,  
Of which I fear to perish by some spark:  
For Polipercon doth my death conspire,  
And who can scape that's made a great man's marker?   

But for my country's cause I'll give my blood,  
Whilst safely praised all follow virtue can:  
But when with danger threatened to do good,  
That's only worthy of a worthy man.   

Nor do I tender so this puff of breath,  
But I could be contented it t'expel:  
A mind that is resolved triumphs over death,  
He hath lived long enough that hath lived well.    

ACT. V. SCINE II.  Cassander, Lysimachus, ptolemy, Seleucus. 

I Doubt not now (great heroes) but ye all  
whatever miscontentment ye pretend  
Do rest well pleased, since those by me made thrall,  
That might have made you end, have made an end.   

loath not the means, if ye allow th'effect,  
For though by this I have a realm obtained:  
It yields you more, whose course none can suspect,  
I'm only guilty, and ye all have gained.   

Yet to pursue my life they first began,  
For my defence this last refuge I proved:  
Nought than himself is nearer unto man,  
All men with their own dangers are most moved.   

And had not proud Olimpias died in time,  
By offering up her blood to work my peace:  
Then mine had been the harm, and hers the crime,  
I but prevented her a little space.   

And if her offspring had survived her death,  
Whose rising could not but procure our fall:  
Ye, now that nought but sovereignty do breath,  
Had breathed obedience, or not breathed at all.   Lis. 

You from a dangerous yoke have us relieved,  
Which I suspect we had experienced soon:  
And why then should we labour to seem grieved  
At that thing done, which we wish not undone?   

No, since that all for sovereignty do strive,  
And have once tasted what it is to reign:  
There's none of us but rather die, than live  
T'embrace a subjects servile state again.   

And though perchance with Alexander's son,  
If heir both of his father's worth and state:  
We might have most respected places won,  
As special pillars of the PRINCE's seat.   

Yet though more great than others, as before,  
It would have grieved us, less than one to fall:  
The fall from first to second grieves one more,  
Than from the second to the last of all.   

Our old renown to us had ruin brought,  
And would have made us odious to remain:  
It's dangerous for a subject to be thought,  
One that desires, or yet deserves to reign.   

When any tempest threatened had his throne,  
He would have sought assurance at our cost:  
For when that jealousy hath seized on one,  
The greatest virtues are suspected most.   

Yea though we could to quite our state consent,  
Us from suspicion nought but death could purge:  
Still greatness must turmoil, or then torment,  
If borne, a burden, if laid down, a scourge.   Ptol. 

But When we have within burr bosom weighed  
The ruin of all Alexander's race;  
Whom without blushing we might have obeyed,  
By right succeeding in our sovereign's place.   

How can our souls but highly be ashamed,  
That one inferior both to them and us,  
Doth seek by wrong that which by right they claimed,  
And by their o'erthrow would b'exalted thus?   

Nor need I more as in suspense remain,  
To mask my meaning with ambiguous words:  
No, no, our words may as his deeds be plain,  
Which fame, (and without whispering) now records   

Ye hear how that Antigonus of late,  
Whose thoughts winged with ambition soar too high:  
Doth strive above us all t'advance his state,  
And on his former fortune doth rely.   

Since to his hands Eumenes was betrayed,  
Lo, quite transported by preposterous pride,  
As if in nought addicted now t'our aid,  
He hath laid all regard of us aside.   Lis. 

Thus Time the truth of all things doth proclaim,  
Man is a crafty creature, hard to know,  
That can a face for every fortune frame,  
No trust in mortals, nor no faith below.   

Whiles as our own particulars do move,  
We what we wish for most, seem to mislike:  
And oft of others do the course disprove,  
Whilst we want nought but means to do the like.   

Then whilst Perdiccas did attempt before  
To make the rest that were his equals thrall,  
Who than Antigonus detested more,  
Th'ambitious mind of one that would have all?   

But since Perdiccas and his faction fell,  
Whom he as traitors to the state pursued:  
He in his place succeeding to rebel,  
Hath what he seemed t'undo again renewed.   

And yet I many a time have mused of this,  
How from the world he did Eumenes send.   Sel. 
How? But by treason as his custom is,  
False at the first, and cruel at the end.  Lys. 
I know, that after divers doubtful fights,  
He hath o'erthrown Eumenes at the last:  
But by what stratagems or treacherous slights,  
I would be glad to hear how all hath passed  Sel. 

Antigonus was at the first afraid,  
To match Eumenes by plain force in fight:  
And the refuge that fear affords assayed,  
For valour frank bent t'use some wary sleight.   

Amongst Eumenes' troops, their minds to prove  
He scattered letters with allurements stored:  
By promised treasures, and protested love,  
To move some one that might betray his Lord.   

But he being wise, his troops in time advised,  
To clear their virtue by their enemy's vice:  
And gave them thanks that would not be enticed,  
To sell their faith at such a bloody price.   

Then said, that th'Author of those scrolls was he,  
That when they spied such practises again,  
They still would take them always but to be,  
Their captains trial, not their enemies train.   

Thus by the means that should have him entrapped,  
His adversary did deluded stay:  
For both he from the present danger scaped,  
And to prevent the like prepared a way.   

Then when this traitorous policy had failed,  
And that there had some doubtful conflicts passed:  
Antigonus that had at one prevailed,  
As having had some vantage at the last:   

He with Eumenes did procure to speak,  
And as t'one vanquished offered him goodwill:  
But he whose mind could not be brought to break,  
Would never talk but as t'his equal still.   

For when a band between them made, did bear  
That he t'antigonus should help impart,  
He did reform that form, and would first swear,  
With Alexander's offspring to take part.   

Thus where they his submission did attend,  
Imperiously conditions he imposed:  
So that there after to procure his end,  
Still th'other by all means his mind disposed.   

And shortly of his bands a vain debate,  
For his confusion fit occasion brought:  
Still, as small things by concord do grow great.  
By discord great things are reduced to nought,   

t'eumenes whilst he fortunately lived,  
That th'haughty Agiraspides gave place,  
With him for state two of their captains strived.  
And would not his authority embrace.   

Such was that spite of theirs to have him spoiled,  
That though of valour he rare wonders proved,  
And oft by force Antigonus had foiled,  
Yet from their mind it could not be removed:   

For being by them allured all th'other bands,  
To get some baggage that they lost again,  
Did give their captain bound to th'enemies' hands,  
So darkening all their glory by one stain.  
And though Eumenes trusting to new hopes,   

By flying laboured a relief t'have found,  
He was prevented by his traitorous troops.  
And like to some base fugitive was bound,   

Scarce could his stormy stomach bent to break,  
Deign then t'entreat those that had him betrayed,  
Yet having hardly purchased leave to speak,  
He stretched them forth his fettered hands and said;   

Lo here th'apparel that your General wears,  
Since with your faith his liberty was lost:  
Yet he those bands not given by th'enemy bears,  
But by his own in whom he trusted most.   

And must he thus be led that should you lead?  
Is this the triumph that I should receive,  
For all my victories thus to be made,  
Of captain, captive, of a conqueror, slave?   

How oft (my soldiers) have ye all of late,  
To me by solemn oaths sworn to be true?  
But it becomes not one in a'abject state,  
With lofty words his Masters to pursue.   

Nor crave I further favour at this hour,  
Then straight to bathe your weapons in my breast;  
Let not my life be in mine enemy's power,  
Lo all that your commander doth request.   

ay Antigonus doth take no care,  
Who get my body, 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 horror of so vile a deed,  
Your eyes look down, your hair erected stands,  
Which in your minds this much remorse doth breed,  
That with your hearts ye will not stain your hands:   

Then as your captain, since not force I may,  
I'll as your friend entreat, that now in time  
I may but have a sword, myself to slay,  
So you t'excuse whilst partner of your crime.   

But when he saw that words could not assuage  
Their barbarous thoughts, that nothing could control:  
Then having turned his courage all in rage,  
He thus flamed forth the fury of his soul.   

O damned rascals, that have lost all faith,  
Whom neither duty nor yet merit binds:  
How oft was Alexander moved to wrath  
By those your mutinous and malicious minds?   

And, O what could I at those hands attend,  
That yet were smoking with Perdiccas' blood;  
Of those that by like treason did intend,  
With old Antipater's t'have been imbrued?   

Heaven thunder on you from th'etherial rounds,  
And make you live abominable band;  
Base vagabonds, barred from your native bounds,  
Then die detested in a barbarous land.   

And as ye have the world with murder filled,  
So may your blood by the same swords be shed:  
By which ye have more of your captains killed  
Than of your foes, from whom like beasts ye fled.   

But neither courteous, nor outrageous words  
Could change his soldiers from their first intent,  
That forward led their captain chained with cords,  
A sacrifice prepared for th'enemies' tent;   

Where being arrived, to th'end he soon might end,  
He asked what stayed Antigonus to go,  
By setting of him free to win a friend,  
Or by his death to rid him of a foe.   

And straight Antigonus did haste his fall,  
By this great magnanimity, not moved:  
And th' Agiraspides dispersed over all,  
As murderer's murder from the world removed.   

Thus oft have traitors been dispatched by time,  
By those whom their upbraiding looks dismay:  
For the remembrance thus of th'author's crime,  
Can but by th'Actors death be wiped away.   

Now claims Antigonus when fame doth feast,  
In rank above his sovereign's self to sit:  
For Alexander did subdue all th'east,  
And he hath conquered them that conquered it.   Cass. 
No doubt, since he that great advantage won,  
He hath within himself high things designed:  
For whilst prosperity transports a man,  
Nought seems difficult to th'ambitious mind.  Seleuc. 

Of those in whom he did suspect a spirit,  
Whose courage served his courses to resist,  
He hath himself by divers means made quite,  
In others wreaks his safety doth consist.   

Thus martial Pithon that no danger spared,  
Whom Alexander held in high account:  
Did at the last receive a hard reward,  
For helping him Eumenes to surmount.   

His spirit t'attempt and power fit to perform.  
Made jealousy Antigonus' torment:  
And yet he feigned to love him for the form,  
Till that his court he moved him to frequent:   

Where whilst he did mistrusting nought abide,  
He publicly in all the people's sight:  
(Though seeming justly) damned injustly died,  
No viler wrong then wrong that looks like right.   

Thus divers governors within short space,  
Their government, or then their life have lost:  
And others are preferred unto their place,  
That did depend upon his favour most.   

Oft likewise me, he laboured to surprise,  
And policy was used, t'have me o'erthrown:  
But I, whom pithon's danger had made wise,  
learned by his ruin to prevent mine own.   

To save my life abandoned is my state,  
And I have fled with danger as ye 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 be resolved, what course t'intend;  
Lest out of time being wise we rue too late.  Lisim. 
It's better to pursue then to defend.  Ptol. 
It's good to quench a fire ere it grow great.  Cass. 

Then let us send t' Antigonus in haste,  
To redemand th'usurped bounds again;  
Since in this war we did our treasures waste,  
We should be likewise partners of the gain.   

But if against our suit his ears he bar,  
And do with scornful words contemn our claim,  
Then may our Messenger denounce the war,  
And we shall shortly intimate the same.   Ptol. 

A mutual band must made amongst us be,  
To make one fortune common to us all:  
And from henceforth we must all four agree,  
To stand together, or together fall.   

And since the princely buds for which we cared,  
however dead, are dead; whate'er we do  
T'engender so towards us the more regard,  
We with the state must take the title too.   

And we must both be crowned, and known for kings,  
The Diadem is greatness strongest tower:  
All vulgar judgements lean on th'outward things,  
And reverence state, where they obey but power.   Exeunt. Nuntius, Philastrus. Chorus. 

IS there a heaven? and are their heavenly powers,  
To whose decree terrestrial things are thrall?  
Or strives the tyrant that begets the hours,  
To triumph over eternity and all?   

Lo, nature travels now, being big with change,  
Since mortals all humanity have lost;  
And in th'old Chaos, or some mass more strange  
To re-entomb their essence all things boast.   

Can reasonable souls from reason barred,  
Even strive which most in cruelty exceeds?  
What eye hath seen, or yet what ear hath heard  
Such monstrous accidents, prodigious deeds?   

Th'Arabian robbers, nor the Scythians wild,  
That with the savage beasts (as barbarous) haunt,  
With such foul facts have not themselves defiled,  
As those that of civility do vaunt.   

Since Grecians are grown barbarous as we find,  
Where can faith have a corner free from spot?  
O careless heavens, wretched earth   Cho. 
What loads thy mind?  Nun. 
A multitude of murders.  Cho. 
What?  Nun. 
What not.  Cho. 

We know that since our sovereign lest to breath,  
Th'earth hath been bathed with many a scarlet flood,  
Perdiccas did procure Meleager's death,  
And his own soldiers drowned his breath with blood.   

Th' Athenians prey, Leonatus did remain,  
And by Eumenes' subtlety dismayed,  
Craterus and Neoptolemus were slain,  
Then by his own Eumenes died betrayed.   Phil. 

Man with his skill against his knowledge strives,  
Where death his way attends, that way he tends,  
And t' Atropos the fatal razor gives,  
To cut the thread on which his life depends.   

When th' Asian victor after all his wars,  
To visit Babylon had bent his mind:  
Both I, and others, studious of the stars,  
Did show that there his ruin was designed.   

To his successors too we oft have shown,  
The means by which their fate might be controlled;  
Yet was our skill contemned, and they o'erthrown,  
As we foretold, and as they now have told.   Nun. 
They have told much, and yet I must tell more;  
Their news were evil, yet were they not the worst,  Cho. 
And have the heavens reserved more plagues in store,  
As if we yet were not enough accursed?  Nun. 
As th'earth in pride, the heavens in plagues abounds,  
Our highest hopes have perished but of late.  Cho. 
Then wound our ears by hearing others wounds,  
That pity now may tread the steps of hate.  Nun. 

Our Queen Olimpias ravished by revenge,  
All Macedony did with murders fill;  
Which from her part the people did estrange,  
Whilst nought but rigour limited her will.   

So that when fierce Cassander sought her wreak,  
She did mistrust the Macedonians minds:  
And for the time the nearest strength did take,  
There till the storm was passed t'attend fair winds.   

But soon Cassander did the town 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 win.   

And when their life's provision did decay,  
Then did bare walls but small refuge afford:  
She Scylla scaped to be Charibdis' prey,  
That fell on famine flying from the sword.   

straight like pale Ghosts faint soldiers did remain,  
Whose bowels hunger like a Harpy tears:  
And with courageous words, the Queen in vain  
Did raise their spirit; (the belly hath no ears.)   

All then began to languish, and to fade,  
As if being tired to bear themselves about;  
Legs failed the body, and the neck the head,  
Then whilst the flesh fell in, bones bursted out:   

And when that th'ordinary meats were spent,  
Than horses, dogs, cats, rats, all served for food;  
Of which no horror th'eater did torment,  
For all that was not poison, then seemed good.   

Some mouths accustomed once with dainty meats  
Wished what they oft had loathed, I'll crumbs, foul floods  
And Ladies that had lived in pompous states,  
Fed, as brought up with wolves amidst the woods:   

Yea, nursed by those whom they themselves had nursed,  
Oft then by th' of springs death th'engendrer lived;  
And which was worst, whilst breasts were like to burst  
None comfort could, for all themselves were grieved.   

Such was their state, no friend bewailed bis friend,  
No wife her husband, nor no Sire his son;  
For apprehending their approaching end.  
All with compassion of themselves were won.   

The dead men's smell empoisoned them that lived,  
Whilst first made faint by a defrauded womb:  
Heaps were of breath and burial both deprived,  
That all the town in end was but a tomb.   Cho. 

Life is the subject of distress and grief  
That still ministers matters to bemoan;  
And only but by death can have relief,  
To live and to be wretched are both but one.   

Yet foolish worldlings tossde with endless care,  
Though at too dear a rate would still buy breath;  
And following after feathers thrown through th'air,  
Like life (though wretched) more than a happy death.   Nun. 
When thus the world Olimpias plagued did spy,  
All sought Cassander, though for several ends.  Cho. 
As from a pest all from th'unhappy fly,  
Th'eclipse of Fortune threatens loss of friends.  Nun. 
And she considering that she could not long  
Hold out the siege, since victuals were grown scant,  
Did send (as weak) for peace t'entreat the strong.  Cho. 
What cannot time and travel sometime daunt?  Nun. 

Then did Cassander know that need constrained  
Her so to bow as strangely being diseased:  
And though he her request not quite disdained,  
Th'agreement was appointed as he pleased.   

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 her enemies will.   

Then whilst Cassander fought his enemy's ends,  
There wanted not strange troops with him t'abide;  
Yet might have many followers, and few friends:  
Friends by the touchstone of distress are tried.   Nun. 

But though the Queen was rendered in this sort,  
With protestation t'have her life preserved.  
The tyrant with her spirit could not comport,  
But from his faith for her confusion swerved.   

The Macedonians were together brought,  
There to consult what did concern their Queen;  
But when of them a number deeply thought,  
Both what she was, and what she once had been;   

Even as Cassander had suborned them all,  
Their parents came whom she had damned to death,  
And did her rigour to remembrance call,  
By which the multitude was moved to wrath.   

Whilst from their brazen breasts all ruth was barred,  
They did conclude, their Queen behooved to die.   Cho. 
Durst subjects damn their sovereign, and not heard?  
So still may clouds obscure the world's bright eye.  Nun. 

Yet did Cassander put (all sleights t'assay)  
A mask of pity on a cruel mind,  
And offered her a ship to fly away,  
As if to death against his will assigned.   

Nor Was this course for her deliverance framed,  
But only as by chance that she might drown:  
So for her death that he might not be blamed,  
But only Neptune, that had thrown her down.   

Yet she a princess of a mighty sprite,  
Whose lofty courage nothing could o'ercome,  
Said, ere she scaped by such a shameful flight,  
That she would hear the Macedonians doom.   

But when Cassander's counsel was contemned,  
Lest that the multitude had changed their mind,  
When they remembered whom they had condemned,  
And warily weighed what rashly they designed.   

To rid her soon from pain, and him from fear,  
He sent some bands from pity most estranged;  
Yet she 'gainst fortune did a banner bear,  
And not her heart, no, not her countenance changed.   

She constant still, though moaned, would never moan,  
Whose stately gesture scorned their foul attempt:  
And did unite her virtues all in one,  
To grace disgrace, and glorify contempt.   

She on two Ladies shoulders leaned her arms,  
And with a Majesty did march towards death:  
Like Alexander once amidst th'alarms,  
As if in triumph bent t'abandon breath.   

The height of virtue admiration brings,  
At this great magnanimity amazed:  
As spying th'Image of their ancient kings,  
Or then some goddess; all the soldiers gazed.   

But ah, some boasted by the tyrant strived  
To spoil (unnatural) natures fairest frame;  
And th'Alabaster balls between they drived  
Th'unwilling swords, that straight grew red for shame.   

Then she in worth, that would herself excel,  
Would neither word, nor tear, nor sigh forth send;  
But spread her garments over her whilst she fell,  
As jealous of her honour still to th'end.   Cho. 

O strange barbarity, most monstrous deed,  
Could men a woman, subjects kill their Queen?  
And could her fortune past no pity breeds?  
whoever gave the wound hath not her seen.   

The ugly Authors of those odious evils,  
Feared for deserved plagues must still be sad,  
His breast t'a hell, his thoughts all turned to devils,  
Through horror of himself must make him mad.   Nun. 
And yet the plague of these detested times.  
Hath wrought more mischief t'aggravate our groans.  Ch. 

No end in sin, crimes are maintained by crimes  
Who fall in th'Ocean touch the bottom once,   

The path of honour hath but narrow bounds,  
On which who steps attentive must remain.  
It's raised so high above the vulgar grounds,  
That who thence fall can never rise again.   Nu. 

Thus now Cassander since he cannot win  
True reputation, but lives tainted still,  
Embarked in mischief sails the depths of sin,  
So, if not loved as good, yet feared as ill.   

Though by his means his ruthless eyes have seen,  
Fates (as it were from Fortune's bosom) rend  
His King by poison, by the sword his Queen;  
In wickedness t'exceed himself in th'end:   

He prospering in impiety, grew proud,  
And murdered both his masters son and wife:  
Thus he that all the world by birthright owed,  
Could hold no part of it, no not his life.   

Yet could Roxanes death not ease his mind,  
Nor her young son too soon made Pluto's guest:  
But bent t'undo all Alexander's kind,  
That to revenge the rest there might none rest.   

By treason he (as all his deeds are done,)  
Caused Hercules his brother's steps to trace:  
That was great Alexander's bastard son,  
And th'only remnant of that great man's race.   

Lo thus Cassander th'enemy to all good,  
Whose soul so much for Macedon longs:  
Hath to the Sceptre swim'd through seas of blood,  
Yet, O weak right that's builded but on wrongs!   Chor. 

O how ambition doth abuse the great,  
That with enough not pleased still strive for more:  
Lo how our Sovereign seemed to raise his state,  
Yet made it but to fall whilst starved with store.   

And since his trophies reared in several fields,  
Both him and his have to confusion brought:  
Then what is all the good that greatness yields,  
Which makes itself seem much to be made nought?   

Thus though the mountains make a mighty show,  
They are but barren heaps borne up aloft,  
Where plains are pleasant still, though they lie low,  
And are most fertile too, though trod on oft.   

Greatness is like a cloud in th'airy bounds,  
Which th'earth's base vapours have congealed above:  
It brawls with Vulcan, thundering forth huge sounds, fear,  
Yet melts, and falls there whence it first did move.   Phi. 

Since that world's conqueror then whilst free from  
Weighed with his greatness down so soon was dead,  
What makes each of his captains strive to bear,  
The diadem that crushed so strong a head?   

O when my mind is ravished through the stars,  
To search the secret secrets of the fates:  
What treasons, murders, mutinies and wars,  
Are threatening once t'o'erthrow th'usurped seats.   

And false Cassander that betrayed his Lord,  
And spoiled the princely race in mischief chief:  
A traitor, both of heaven and earth abhorred,  
Shall live but with disgrace, and die with grief.   

His sons, in wickedness himself t'exceed,  
Shall make the woman die that made them live:  
Then when being drunk with blood, to death shall bleed  
And none of theirs their funerals shall survive.   

Then when ambition should be cold by age,  
Lysimachus shall by Seleucus die:  
Nor shall Seleucus long enjoy the stage,  
But by like violence shall breathless lie.   

And subtle Ptolemy's degenered race,  
Long only famous for infamous things:  
Shall end, and once to th'enemies' pride give place,  
Whilst a lascivious Queen confusion brings.   

Antigonus shall be in battle killed,  
His son a captive perish with disgrace:  
And after that it Greece with blood hath filled,  
In end, destruction doth attend that race.   

The last in power, though of their line not bred,  
A niggard and a dastard beaten down:  
Shall through a stranger's town a captive led,  
Bound of the Macedonians th'old renown.   

Chorus.  

WHat damned furies thus toss mortals' minds  
With such a violent desire to reign?  
That neither honour, friendship, duty, blood,  
Nor yet no band so sacred is as binds  
Th' ambitious thoughts that would a kingdom gain:  
But all is buried in black Lethe's flood,  
That may the course of sovereignty restrain,  
Which from the breast doth all respects repel:  
And like a torrent cannot be gainstood:  
Yea many would a Sceptre so t'obtain,  
In spite of all the world, and jove's own wrath,  
March through the lowest dungeons of the hells:  
And underneath a diadem would breath,  
Though every moment threatened them with death.  
Yet though such restless minds attain in th'end  
The height to which their haughty hearts aspired,  
They never can embrace th'imagined bliss,  
Which their deluded thoughts did apprehend,  
Though by the multitude they be admired,  
That still to power do show themselves submiss;  
Yet by the soul still further is required,  
That should seal up th' accomplishment of joy:  
Thus doth a partial judgement aim amiss,  
At things that stand without our reach retired:  
Which whilst not ours as treasures we define,  
But not the same whilst we the same enjoy.  
Some things afar do like the glow-worm shine,  
That looked too near have of that light no sign.  
No charge on th'earth more weighty to discharge,  
Than that which of a kingdom doth dispose.  
O those that manage must the reins of state,  
Till that their ghost b'embarked in Charon's barge,  
Do never need t'attend a true repose.  
How hard is it to please each man's conceit?  
When gaining one they must another lose.  
Thus hardly kings themselves can evenly bear,  
Whom if severe, as cruel subjects hate,  
Contempt dare to the mild itself oppose.  
In time who spare as niggards are despised,  
Men from too frank a mind exactions fear.  
Though in all shapes as Proteus being disguised,  
Kings by some scandal always are surprised,  
Yet one might well with every thing comport,  
That on th'opinion only doth depend,  
If further danger followed not by deeds.  
But every monarch lo in many a sort,  
Death doth disguised in divers shapes attend,  
Of some by mutinous swords the life forth bleeds,  
By unsuspected poison others end,  
Which whilst they always labour to prevent,  
A thousand deaths within their breasts life breeds.  
Lo, this is all for which the great contend.  
Who (whilst their pride themselves and others spoils)  
With their dominions do their cares augment.  
And O vain man, that toils t' abound in toils;  
Though still the victory the victor foils.  
Thus Alexander still himself diseased,  
Whilst he t'undo his state did wale prepare,  
Which when made most, diminished most remained,  
Where with his father's bounds had he been pleased,  
He might have left our crown in peace t' his heir;  
That by his conquest nought but death hath gained:  
Yet for no pains a number now doth spare,  
To work for that by which his wreak was wrought,  
Which (though from it they rage to be restrained:)  
Would (if possessed) their pleasures but impair:  
Yet they by harm of others seek the thing,  
That by their harm of others will be sought;  
To him and his, each of them death would bring,  
That it might once be said he was a King.  
We may securely sitting on the shore,  
To see the great (as tossed on th'Ocean) groan,  
Learn by their toils t'esteem much of our rest,  
For this doth thousands with affliction store.  
That as th'unhappiest in the world do moan,  
If they but chance to view some few more blessed,  
Where if they would but mark how many a one  
More wretched than they in misery doth live;  
It would straight calm the most unquiet breast.  
The cottage whiles is happier than the throne,  
To think our own state good, and others ill,  
It could not but a great contentment give:  
There much consists in the conceit and will,  
Since t'us all things are as we think them still.      
FINIS.