A Discourse of Life and Death, by Mornay; and Antonius by Garnier Part 6

Come deare _Lucill_: alas! why wepe you thus!

This mortall lot is common to vs all.

We must all die, each doth in homage owe Vnto that G.o.d that shar'd the Realmes belowe.

Ah sigh no more: alas: appeace your woes, For by your griefe my griefe more eager growes.

Chorus.

Alas, with what tormenting fire.

Vs martireth this blinde desire To staie our life from flieng!

How ceasleslie our minds doth rack, How heauie lies vpon our back This dastard feare of dieng!

_Death_ rather healthfull succor giues, _Death_ rather all mishappes relieues That life vpon vs throweth: And euer to vs doth vnclose The doore, wherby from curelesse woes Our wearie soule out goeth.

What G.o.ddesse else more milde then shee To burie all our paine can be, What remedie more pleasing?

Our pained hearts when dolor stings, And nothing rest, or respite brings, What help haue we more easing?

_Hope_ which to vs doth comfort giue, And doth or fainting hearts reuiue, Hath not such force in anguish: For promising a vaine reliefe She oft vs failes in midst of griefe, And helples letts vs languish.

But Death who call on her at nede Doth neuer with vaine semblant feed, But when them sorow paineth, So riddes their soules of all distresse Whose heauie weight did them oppresse, That not one griefe remaineth.

Who feareles and with courage bolde Can _Acherons_ black face beholde, Which muddie water beareth: And crossing ouer, in the way Is not amaz'd at Perruque gray Olde rustie _Charon_ weareth: Who voide of dread can looke vpon The dreadfull shades that rome alone, On bankes where sound no voices: Whom with her fire-brands and her Snakes No whit afraide _Alecto_ makes, Nor triple-barking noyses: Who freely can himselfe dispose Of that last hower which all must close, And leaue this life at pleasure: This n.o.ble freedome more esteemes, And in his hart more precious deemes, Then Crowne and kingly treasure.

The waues which _Boreas_ blasts turmoile And cause with foaming furie boile, Make not his heart to tremble: Nor brutish broile, when with strong head A rebell people madly ledde Against their Lords a.s.semble: Nor fearfull face of Tirant wood, Who breaths but threats, and drinks but bloud, No, nor the hand which thunder, The hand of _Ioue_ which thunder beares, And ribbs of rocks in sunder teares, Teares mountains sides in sunder: Nor bloudie _Ma.r.s.es_ butchering bands, Whose lightnings desert laie the lands whome dustie cloudes do couer: From of whose armour sun-beames flie, And vnder them make quaking lie The plaines wheron they houer: Nor yet the cruell murth'ring blade Warme in the moistie bowells made of people pell mell dieng In some great Cittie put to sack By sauage Tirant brought to wrack, At his colde mercie lieng.

How abiect him, how base think I, Who wanting courage can not dye When need him therto calleth?

From whom the dagger drawne to kill The curelesse griefes that vexe him still For feare and faintnes falleth?

O _Antonie_ with thy deare mate Both in misfortunes fortunate!

Whose thoughts to death aspiring Shall you protect from victors rage, Who on each side doth you encage, To triumph much desiring.

That _Caesar_ may you not offend Nought else but Death can you defend, which his weake force derideth, And all in this round earth containd, Powr'les on them whom once enchaind _Auernus_ prison hideth: Where great _Psammetiques_ ghost doth rest, Not with infernall paine possest, But in swete fields detained: And olde _Amasis_ soule likewise, And all our famous _Ptolemies_ That whilome on vs raigned.

_Act. 4._

_Caesar._ _Agrippa._ _Dircetus_ the Messenger.

_Caesar._

_You euer-liuing G.o.ds which all things holde Within the power of your celestiall hands, By whom heate, colde, the thunder, and the winde, The properties of enterchaunging mon'ths Their course and being haue, which do set downe Of Empires by your destinied decree The force, age, time, and subiect to no chaunge Chaunge all, reseruing nothing in one state: You haue aduaunst, as high as thundring heau'n The _Romains_ greatnes by _Bellonas_ might: Mastring the world with fearfull violence, Making the world widow of libertie.

Yet at this daie this proud exalted _Rome_ Despoil'd, captiu'd, at one mans will doth bende: Her Empire mine, her life is in my hand, As Monarch I both world and _Rome_ commaund; Do all, can all; fourth my commaund'ment cast Like thundring fire from one to other Pole Equall to Ioue: bestowing by my worde Happes and mishappes, as Fortunes King and Lord.

No Towne there is, but vp my Image settes, But sacrifice to me doth dayly make: Whither where _Phaebus_ ioyne his morning steedes, Or where the night them weary entertaines, Or where the heat the _Garamants_ doth scorche, Or where the colde from _Boreas_ breast is blowne: All _Caesar_ do both awe and honor beare, And crowned Kings his verie name do feare.

_Antonie_ knowes it well, for whom not one Of all the Princes all this earth do rule, Armes against me: for all redoubt the power Which heau'nly powers on earth haue made me beare.

_Antonie_, he poore man with fire enflam'de A womans beauties kindled in his heart, Rose against me, who longer could not beare My sisters wrong he did so ill entreat: Seing her left while that his leud delights Her husband with his _Cleopatra_ tooke In _Alexandrie_, where both nights and daies Their time they pa.s.s'd in nought but loues and plaies.

All _Asias_ forces into one he drewe, And forth he sett vpon the azur'd waues A thousand and a thousand Shipps, which fill'd With Souldiors, pikes, with targets, arrowes, darts, Made _Neptune_ quake, and all the watrie troupes Of _Glauques_, and _Tritons_ lodg'd at _Actium_.

But mightie G.o.ds, who still the force withstand Of him, who causles doth another wrong, In lesse then moments s.p.a.ce redus'd to nought All that proud power by Sea or land he brought.

_Agr._ Presumptuouse pride of high and hawtie sprite, Voluptuouse care of fonde and foolish loue, Haue iustly wrought his wrack: who thought he helde (By ouerweening) Fortune in his hand.

Of vs he made no count, but as to play, So fearles came our forces to a.s.say.

So sometimes fell to Sonnes of Mother Earth, Which crawl'd to heau'n warre on the G.o.ds to make, _Olymp_ on _Pelion_, _Ossa_on _Olymp_, _Pindus_ on _Ossa_ loading by degrees: That at hand strokes with mightie clubbes they might On mossie rocks the G.o.ds make tumble downe: When mightie _Ioue_ with burning anger chaf'd, Disbraind with him _Gyges_ and _Briareus_, Blunting his darts vpon their brused bones.

For no one thing the G.o.ds can lesse abide In dedes of men, then Arrogance and Pride.

And still the proud, which too much takes in hand, Shall fowlest fall, where best he thinks to stand.

_Caes._ Right as some Pallace, or some stately tower, Which ouer-lookes the neighbour buildings round In scorning wise, and to the Starres vp growes, Which in short time his owne weight ouerthrowes.

What monstrous pride, nay what impietie Incen'st him onward to the G.o.ds disgrace?

When his two children, _Cleopatras_ bratts, To _Phaebe_ and her brother he compar'd, _Latonas_ race, causing them to be call'd The Sunne and Moone? Is not this folie right?

And is not this the G.o.ds to make his foes?

And is not this himself to worke his woes?

_Agr._ In like proud sort he caus'd his head to leese The Iewish king _Antigonus_, to haue His Realme for balme, that _Cleopatra_ lou'd, As though on him he had some treason prou'd.

_Caes._ _Lydia_ to her, and _Siria_ he gaue, _Cyprus_ of golde, _Arabia_ rich of smelles: And to his children more _Cilicia_, _Parth's_, _Medes_, _Armenia_, _Phaenicia_: The kings of kings proclaiming them to be, By his owne worde, as by a sound decree.

_Agr._ What? Robbing his owne countrie of her due Triumph'd he not in _Alexandria_, Of _Artabasus_ the _Armenian_ King, Who yelded on his periur'd word to him?

_Caes._ Nay, neuer _Rome_ more iniuries receiu'd, Since thou, o _Romulus_, by flight of birds with happy hand the _Romain_ walles did'st build, Then _Antonies_ fond loues to it hath done.

Nor euer warre more holie, nor more iust, Nor vndertaken with more hard constraint, Then is this warre: which were it not, our state Within small time all dignitie should loose: Though I lament (thou Sunne my witnes art; And thou great _Ioue_) that it so deadly proues: That _Romain_ bloud should in such plentie flowe, Watring the fields and pastures where we goe.

What _Carthage_ in olde hatred obstinate, What _Gaule_ still barking at our rising state, What rebell _Samnite_, what fierce _Pyrrhus_ power, What cruell _Mithridate_, what _Parth_ hath wrought Such woe to _Rome_: whose common wealth he had, (Had he bene victor) into _Egipt_ brought.

_Agr._ Surely the G.o.ds, which haue this Cittie built Stedfast to stand as long as time endures, Which kepe the Capitoll, of vs take care, And care will take of those shall after come, Haue made you victor, that you might redresse Their honor growne by pa.s.sed mischieues lesse.

_Caes._ The seelie man when all the Greekish Sea His fleete had hidd, in hope me sure to drowne, Me battaile gaue: where fortune, in my stede, Repulsing him his forces disaraied.

Him selfe tooke flight, soone as his loue he saw All wanne through feare with full sailes flie away.

His men, though lost, whome none did now direct, With courage fought fast grappled shipp with shipp, Charging, resisting, as their oares would serue, With darts, with swords, with Pikes, with fierie flames.

So that the darkned night her starrie vaile Vpon the bloudie sea had ouer-spred, Whilst yet they held: and hardlie, hardlie then They fell to flieng on the wauie plaine.

All full of Souldiors ouerwhelm'd with waues: The aire throughout with cries and grones did sound: The Sea did blush with bloud: the neighbor sh.o.r.es Groned, so they with shipwracks pestred were, And floting bodies left for pleasing foode To birds, and beasts, and fishes of the sea.

You know it well _Agrippa_.

_Ag._ Mete it was The _Romain_ Empire so should ruled be, As heau'n is rul'd: which turning ouer vs, All vnder things by his example turnes.

Now as of heau'n one onely Lord we know: One onely Lord should rule this earth below.

When one self pow're is common made to two, Their duties they nor suffer will, nor doe.

In quarell still, in doubt, in hate, in feare; Meane while the people all the smart do beare.

_Caes._ Then to the ende none, while my daies endure, Seeking to raise himselfe may succours finde, We must with bloud marke this our victorie, For iust example to all memorie.

Murther we must, vntill not one we leaue, Which may hereafter vs of rest bereaue.

_Ag._ Marke it with murthers? who of that can like?

_Cae._ Murthers must vse, who doth a.s.surance seeke.

_Ag._ a.s.surance call you enemies to make?

_Caes._ I make no such, but such away I take.

_Ag._ Nothing so much as rigour doth displease.

_Caes._ Nothing so much doth make me liue at ease.

_Ag._ What ease to him that feared is of all?

_Cae._ Feared to be, and see his foes to fall.

_Ag._ Commonly feare doth brede and nourish hate.

_Cae._ Hate without pow'r comes comonly too late.