[bar,

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

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

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

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

[know,

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

T have writers, than have actors of renown.
And though you have a swannet of your own,
Within the banks of Doven, meditates,
Sweet notes to you, and unto your renown,
The glory of his music dedicates,
And in a softy tune is set to sound
The deep reports of sullen tragedies:
Yet may this last of me be likewise found
Amongst the vows that others sacrifice

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

Though I the remnant of another time, Am never like to see that happiness, Yet for the zeal that I have borne to rhyme, And to the Muses, wish that good success To others' travel, that in better place,

And better comfort, they may be inchear'd
Who shall deserve, and who shall have the grace
To have a Muse held worthy to be heard. [know,
And know, sweet prince, when you shall come to
That 't is not in the pow'r of kings to raise
A spirit for verse, that is not born thereto,
Nor are they born in every prince's days:
For late Eliza's reign gave birth to more
Than all the kings of England did before.

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

And I, although among the latter train,
And least of those that sung unto this land,
Have borne my part, though in an humble strain,
And pleased the gentler that did understand:
And never had my harmless pen at all
Distain'd with any loose immodesty,
Nor ever noted to be touch'd with gall,
T' aggravate the worst man's infamy.
But still have done the fairest offices
To virtue and the time; yet nought prevails,
And all our labours are without success,
For either favour or our virtue fails.
And therefore since I have outliv'd the date
Of former grace, acceptance, and delight,
I would my lines late born beyond the fate
Of her spent line, had never come to light;
So had I not been tax'd for wishing well,
Nor now mistaken by the censuring stage,
Nor, in my fame and reputation fell,

Which I esteem more than what all the age
Or th' earth can give. But years hath done this

wrong,

To make me write too much, and live too long.

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

CHORUS.

SAMUEL DANIEL.

FROM THE SAME.

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

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

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

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

CHORUS.

FROM THE SAME.

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

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

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

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

CHORUS.

FROM THE SAME.

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

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

CHORUS.

FROM THE SAME.

GRECIAN AND PERSIAN.

PERSIAN.

WELL, then, I see there is small difference
Betwixt your state and ours; you civil Greeks,
You great contrivers of free governments,
Whose skill the world from out all countries seeks;
Those whom you call your kings, are but the same
As are our sovereign tyrants of the east;

I see they only differ but in name,
Th' effects they show, agree, or near at least.

Your great men here, as our great satrapaes,
I see laid prostrate are with basest shame,
Upon the least suspect or jealousies
Your kings conceive, or others' envies frame;
Only herein they differ, that your prince
Proceeds by form of law t' effect his end;
Our Persian monarch makes his frown convince
The strongest truth, his sword the process ends
With present death, and makes no more ado:
He never stands to give a gloss unto
His violence, to make it to appear

In other hue than that it ought to bear,
Wherein plain dealing best his course commends:
For more h' offends who by the law offends.
What need have Alexander so to strive
By all these shows of form, to find this man
Guilty of treason, when he doth contrive
To have him so adjudg'd? do what he can,
He must not be acquit, though he be clear,
Th' offender, not th' offence, is punish'd here.
And what avails the fore-condemn'd to speak?
However strong his cause, his state is weak.

GRECIAN.

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

PERSIAN.

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

To sit in judgment thus themselves with you?

GRECIAN.

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

PERSIAN.

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

GRECIAN.

Where kings are so like gods, there subjects are not

men.

PERSIAN.

GRECIAN.

Indeed since prosperous fortune gave the rein To head-strong power and lust, I must confess We Grecians have lost deeply by our gain, And this our greatness makes us much the less: For by th' accession of these mighty states, Which Alexander wondrously hath got, He hath forgot himself and us, and rates His state above mankind, and ours at nought. This hath thy pomp (O feeble Asia) wrought! Thy base adorings hath transformed the king Into that shape of pride, as he is brought Out of his wits, out of acknowledging From whence the glory of his greatness springs, And that it was our swords that wrought these things. How well were we within the narrow bounds Of our sufficient yielding Macedon, Before our kings enlarg'd them with our wounds, And made these sallies of ambition! Before they came to give the regal law [awe! To those free states, which kept their crowns in They by these large dominions are made more, But we became far weaker than before. What get we now by winning, but wide minds And weary bodies, with th' expense of blood? What should ill do, since happy fortune finds But misery, and is not good though good? Action begets still action, and retains Our hopes beyond our wishes, drawing on A never ending circle of our pains, That makes us not have done, when we have done. What can give bounds to Alexander's ends. Who counts the world but small, that calls him And his desires beyond his prey distends, [great; Like beasts, that murder more than they can eat? When shall we look his travels will be done, That tends beyond the ocean and the Sun? What discontentments will there still arise In such a camp of kings, to intershock Each others' greatness, and what mutinies Will put him from his comforts, and will mock His hopes, and never suffer him to have That which he hath of all which fortune gave? And from Philotas blood (O worthy man) Whose body now rent on the torture lies, Will flow that vein of fresh conspiracies, As overflow him will, do what he can: For cruelty doth not embetter men, But them more wary makes than they have been.

PERSIAN.

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

GRECIAN.

Who like offends, hath punishment all one.

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