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"Then," said the prophet, "since by all approv'd, | This signe so full of terrour thus procur'd,

I must with you, before that God contend,
Who from Caldea, Israel's syre remov'd,
And highly honour'd as his speciall friend ;
Who sav'd milde Isaac, holy Iacob lov'd,
And in all countries did him still attend:
(A covenant contriv'd, with all his race)
Who multiply'd them much, in little space.

"From rigorousÆgypt's more then burthenous yoke,
When taught by wonders to admire his might,
He led them forth, free from each stumbling block;
In deserts wilde, him to contemplate right;
And did give laws, as of that state the stock,
A rare republike, at perfection's height;
The Lord (great generall of those chosen bands)
Took townes, gain'd battels, and did conquer lands!

"But when he once had stablish'd well their state,
(All those great works remembred then no more)
Your fathers, false, apostates, and ingrate,
(Abhomination) idols did adore,

So that (incens'd with indignation great)
Their jealous God would them protect no more;
Who, that they so might humbled be againe,
To bondage base abandon'd did remaine.

"With hearts brought low, and souls rais'd up aloft,
When godly griefe dissolv'd it selfe in groans,
The Lord, first mov'd with sighs, with teares made soft,
Charm'd with the musicke of their pretious moans,
For their delivery sent great captaines oft,
Who did their state restore, bruis'd strangers' thrones:
Till successe did to all the world make knowne,
That, save by sinne, they could not be ore-throwne.

"Ganst Aram, Moab, and Canaan, foes,
Proud Midians, Ammons, and Philistines' lands,
Brave Othniel, Ehud, and Debora rose,
Then Iphte, Gideon, Sampson, strong of hands,
Whil'st God the generall, his lievtenants those,
Oft (few in number) thundred downe great bands;
And by weake meanes oft thousands fled from one,
A cake, an oxen goad, an asse's bone.

"From dangers oft though wonderfully sav'd,
Whil'st Israel's sceptre God did onely sway,
Yet (as stray'd fancies fondly had conceiv'd)
When Ammon's ensignes Nahas did display,
Straight, as without a lord, a king, you crav'd,
As th' abject Gentiles, basely to obey;
With trust in princes, and in mortall strength,
Which lodg'd in nostrils, must dislodge at length.

"Yet if your king and you do serve him right,
The Lord, of both will highly blesse the state;
And, if prophanely walking in his sight,

Will visit both in wrath, with vengeance great,
And that you may behold your sinne, his might,
Too haughty minds by terrour to abate:
You shall (though of such change no signe there be)
Straight clad with clouds, Heaven's indignation see."
Heavens, must'ring horrour in a dreadfull forme,
His beams drawn back, pale Phoebus did retyre;
As the world's funerals threatning to performe,
Some flames flash'd forth, not lights, but sparks of yre,
And in ambushment layd behinde a storme,
Colds interchoaking, did grosse engines fire
To batter th' Earth, which planted there by wrath,
From clouds' vast concaves thund'red bolts of death.

A generall feare each minde with griefe did sting,
Till all cry'd out that they had beene obdur'd,
And highly sinn'd in seeking of a king;
The Lord, they said (his light from Heaven obscur'd)
Might for their ore-throw armies justly bring;
Then Samuel urg'd to mediate their peace,
Avoyding vengeance, and entreating grace.

The holy man who view'd them thus to smart,
Did aggravate how farre they first did faile,
Yet them assurd, when flowing from the heart,
That true repentance would with God prevaile;
From whom he wish'd, that they would not depart,
To trust in trifles which could not availe:
Since he, when pleas'd, in mercies did abound,
And with a frowne might all the world confound.

The Lord (he said) who did them first affect
Them (from his law if they did not remove)
By hoasts of Heaven, and wonders would protect,
By promise bound, and by his boundlesse love,
Lest strangers spoyling whom he did elect,
Weake, or inconstant, he might seeme to prove :
Then he to God for them did earnest call,
And with their king, when blest, dismist them all.

Saul thus, when seiz'd of Israel's regall seat,
Whom God chose, Samuel did anoint, all serve,
From private thoughts estrang'd, in all growne great,
Though first elected, studied to deserve;
His owne no more, since sacred to the state,
He sought how it to free, to rule, preserve:
For whice, retyr'd, what course was fit, he dream'd,
Save when in action, as of sight asham'd.

DEDICATION

OF THE TRAGEDY OF CROESUS.

TO HIS SACRED MAJESTY.

DISDAINE not, mighty prince, those humble lines,
Though too meane musicke for so dainty eares,
Since with thy greatnesse, learning's glory shines,
So that thy brow a two-fold lawrell beares:
To thee the Muses, Phoebus now resignes,
And vertues hight eternall trophees reares:
As Orpheus' harpe, Heavens may enstall thy pen,
A liberall light to guide the mindes of men.

Although my wit be weake, my vowes are strong,
Which consecrate devoutly to thy name
My Muse's labours, which, ere it be long,
May graft some feathers in the wings of Fame,
And with the subject to conforme my song,
May in more loftly lines thy worth proclaime,
With gorgeous colours courting glorie's light,
Till circling seas doe bound her ventrous flight.

Ere thou wast born, and since, Heaven thee endeeres,
Held backe, as best to grace these last worst times;
The world long'd for thy birth three hundred yeeres,
Since first fore-told wrapt in propheticke rimes;
His love to thee, the Lord's deliveries cleeres,
From sea, from sword, from fire, from chance, from
crimes,

And that to him thou onely might be bound,
Thy selfe was still the meanes foes to confound.

I doe not doubt but Albion's warlike coast,
(Sill kept unconquer'd by the Heaven's decree)
The Picts expell'd, the Danes repell'd, did boast
(In spite of all Rome's power) a state still free,
As that which was ordain'd (though long time crost
In this Herculean birth) to bring forth thee,
Whom many a famous sceptred parent brings
From an undaunted race to doe great things.

Of this divided ile the nurslings brave,
Earst, from intestine warres could not desist,
Yet did in forraine fields their names engrave,
Whilst whom one spoil'd the other would assist:
Those now made one, whilst such a head they have,
What world of words were able to resist? [now,
Thus hath thy worth (great lames) conjoyn'd them
Whom battles oft did breake, but never bow.

And so, most justly thy renowned deeds
Doe raise thy fame above the starry round,
Which in the world a glad amazement breeds,
To see the vertues (as they merit) crown'd,
Whilst thou (great monarch) who in power exceeds,
With vertuons goodnesse do'st vast greatnesse bound,
Where, if thou lik'dst to be more great then good,
Thou might'st soone build a monarchie with bloud.

O! this faire world without the world, no doubt,
Which Neptune strongly guards with liquid bands,
As aptest so to rule the realmes about,
She by herselfe (as most majesticke) stands,
Thence (the world's mistris) to give judgement out,
With full authority for other lands,
Which on the seas would gaze, attending still,
By wind-wing'd messengers, their soveraigne's will.

The southerne regions did all realmes surpasse,
And were the first which sent great armies forth;
Yet soveraignty that there first founded was,
Still by degrees hath drawne unto the north,
To this great climate which it could not passe,
The fatall period bounding all true worth:
For, it cannot from hence a passage finde,
By roring rampiers still with us confinde.

As waters which a masse of earth restraines,
(If they by swelling high begin to vent)
Doe rage disdainefully over all the plaines,
As with strict borders scorning to be pent:
Even so this masse of earth, that thus remaynes,
Wall'd in with waves, if (to burst out when bent)
(The bounding flouds ore-flow'd) it rush forth, then
That deluge would ore-run the world with men.
Then since (great prince) the torrent of thy power
May drowne whole nations in a scarlet floud,
On infidels thy indignation powre,
And bathe not Christian bounds with Christian bloud:
The tyrant Ottoman (who would devoure
All the reedeemed souls) may be withstood,
While as thy troups (great Albion's emperor) once
Do comfort Christ's afflicted flock which moanes.
Thy thundring troups might take the stately rounds
Of Constantine's great towne renown'd in vaine,
And barre the barbarous Turks the baptiz'd bounds,
Reconquering Godfrey's conquests once againe;
O, well spent labours! O illustrious wounds!
Whose trophecs should eternall glory gaine,
And make the lyon to be fear'd farre inore,
Then ever was the eagle of before.

But, O thrice happy thou that of thy throne
The boundlesse power for such an use controuls!
Which if some might command to raigne alone,
Of all their life they would be-bloud the scrouls,
And to content the haughtie thoughts of one
Would sacrifize a thousand thousand souls, [might,
Which thou do'st spare, though having sprite and
To challenge all the world as thine owne right.
Then unto whom more justly could I give
Those famous ruines of extended states
(Which did the world of libertie deprive
By force or fraud to reare tyrannick seats)
Then unto thee, who may and will not live
Like those proud monarchs borne to stormy fates?
But whil'st, frank-sprited prince, thou this wouldstflee,
Crowns come unsought, and scepters seek to thee.
Vnto the ocean of thy worth I send

Those runnels, rising from a rash attempt;
Not that I to augment that depth pretend,
Which Heavens from all necessitie exempt,
While hecatombes are holden in contempt:
The Gods small gifts of zealous mindes commend,
So (sir) I offer at your vertues' shrine
This little incense, or this smoke of mine.

TO THE AUTHOR OF

THE MONARCHICKE TRAGEDIES.
Invite the curious pompe-expecting eyes
WELL may the programme of thy tragicke stage
To gaze on present showes of passed age,
Crownes, throwne from thrones to tombes, detomb'd
Which just desert Monarchicke dare baptize. [arise
To match thy Muse with a monarchicke theame,
That whilst her sacred soaring cuts the skyes,
A vulgar subject may not wrong the same:
And which gives most advantage to thy fame,
The worthiest monarch that the Sunne can see,
Doth grace thy labours with his glorious name,
And daignes protector of thy birth to be:
Thus all monarchicke, patron, subject, stile,
Make thee the monarch-tragicke of this ile.
S. ROBERT AYTON.

IN

PRAISE OF THE AUTHOR,

AND

HIS TRAGEDY OF DARIUS.

A SONNET.

GIVE place all ye to dying Darius' wounds,
While this great Greek him in his throne enstalls,
Who fell before seven-ported Thebes' wals,
Or under Ilion's old sky-threatening rounds.
Your sowre-sweet voyce not halfe so sadly sounds,
Though I confesse, most famous be your fals,
Slaine, sacrific'd, transported, and made thrals;
Thrown headlong, burnt, and banish't from your
Whom Sophocles, Euripides have song, [bounds:
And Eschylus in stately tragicke tune :
Yet none of all hath so divinely done
As matchlesse Menstrie in his native tongue.
Thus Darius' ghost seemes glad now to be so,
Triumpht on twise by Alexanders two.

10. MURRAY.

CHORUSES

IN THE TRAGEDY OF CROESUS.

CHORUS FIRST.

HAT can man's wandring thoughts confine, satisfie his fancies all?

whil'st he wonders doth designe,

en great things then doe seeme but small;
at terrour can his sprite appall,
ilst taking more then it can hold,
to himselfe contentment doth assigne;
minde, which monsters breeds,
agination feeds,

with high thoughts quite headlongs rold, ail'st seeking here a perfect ease to finde, ould but melt mountains, and embrace the winde.

mat wonder though the soule of man
sparke of Heaven that shines below)
=th labour by all meanes it can,
ke to it selfe, it selfe to show?

e heavenly essence, Heaven would know,
t from this masse, (where bound) till free,
th paine both spend life's little span;
e better part would be above:

d th' earth from th' earth cannot remove;
ow can two contraries agree?

Thus as the best part or the worth doth move, an of much worth, or of no worth doth prove."

! from what fountaine doe proceed
mese humours of so many kindes ?
ach braine doth divers fancies breed,
As many men, as many mindes:"
nd in the world a man scarce findes
nother of his humour right,
or are there two so like indeed,
we remarke their severall graces,
nd lineaments of both their faces,
hat can abide the proofe of sight.

If th' outward formes then differ as they doe; f force th' affections must be different too."

h! passions spoile our better part,

he soule is vext with their dissentions;
We make a God of our owne heart,
nd worship all our vaine inventions;
his braine-bred mist of apprehensions
The minde doth with confusion fill;
Whil'st reason in exile doth smart,
nd few are free from this infection,
or all are slaves to some affection,
hich doth oppresse the judgement still:
Those partiall tyrants, not directed right,
ven of the clearest mindes eclipse the light."

thousand times, O happy he!
Vro doth his passions so subdue,
That he may with cleare reason's eye
Their imperfection's fountaines view,
That so he may himselfe renew,
Who to his thoughts prescribing lawes,
Might set his soule from bondage free,
And never from bright reason swerve,
But making passions it to serve,

Would weigh each thing as there were cause:
O greater were that monarch of the minde!
Then if he might command from Thule to Inde.

CHORUS SECOND.

Of all the creatures bred below,
We must call man most miserable;
Who all his time is never able
To purchase any true repose;
His very birth may well disclose
What miseries his blisse ore-throw:
For, first (when born) he cannot know
Who to his state is friend or foe,

Nor how at first he may stand stable,
But even with cryes, and teares, doth show
What dangers do his life enclose;
Whose griefes are sure, whose joyes a fable;
Thus still his dayes in dolour so

He to huge perils must expose;

And with vexation lives, and dyes with woe,
Not knowing whence he came, nor where to go.

Then whilst he holds this lowest place,
O! how uncertaine is his state?
The subject of a constant fate,
To figure forth inconstancy,
Which ever changing as we see,
Is still a stranger unto peace:
For if man prosper but a space,
With each good successe fondly bold,
And puft up in his owne conceit.
He but abuses fortune's grace;
And when that with adversity

His pleasure's treasures end their date,
And with disasters are controll'd,
Straight be begins for griefe to dye:

And still the top of some extreame doth hold,
Not suffring summer's heat, nor winter's cold.

His state doth in most danger stand,
Who most abounds in worldly things,
And soares too high with fortune's wings,
Which carry up aspiring mindes,

To be the object of all windes;

The course of such when rightly scan'd,
(Whilst they cannot themselves command)
Transported with an empty name,
Oft unexpected ruine brings;
There were examples in this land,
How worldly blisse the senses blindes,
From which at last oft trouble springs;
He who presumes upon the same,
Hidde poyson in his pleasure findes;

And sayling rashly with the windes of fame,

Doth oft times sinke downe in a sea of shame.

It may be fear'd our king at last,
Whil'st he for nothing is afraid,

Be by prosperity betray'd:

For, growing thus in greatnesse still,

And having worldly things at will,

He thinks though time should all things waste,

Yet his estate shall ever last

The wonder of this peopled round;

And in his own conceit hath said:

No course of Heaven his state can cast,

Nor make his fortune to be ill;
But if the gods a way have lay'd
That he must come to be uncrown'd,
What sudden feares his minde may fill,
And in an instant utterly confound

The state which stands upon so slippery ground?

When such a monarch's minde is bent
To follow most the most unwise,
Who can their folly well disguise
With sugred speeches, poisnous baits,
The secret canker of great states,
From which at first few disassent,
The which at last all do repent,
Then whil'st they must to ruine go;
When kings begin thus to despise
Of honest men the good intent,
Who to assure their soveraignes' seats
Would faine in time some help devise,
And would cut off all cause of woe,
Yet cannot second their conceits:
These dreadfull comets commonly fore-go
A king's destruction, when miscarried so.

CHORUS THIRD.

THOSE who command above,
High presidents of Heaven,
By whom all things doe move,
As they have order given,
What worldling can arise,
Against them to repine?
Whilst castell'd in the skies,
With providence divine;
They force this peopled round,
Their judgements to confesse,
And in their wrath confound
Proud mortalls who transgresse
The bounds to them assign'd
By Nature in their mind.

Base brood of th' Earth, vaine man,
Why brag'st thou of thy might?
The Heavens thy courses scan,
Thou walk'st still in their sight;
Ere thou wast born, thy deedes
Their registers dilate,

And thinke that none exceedes
The bounds ordain'd by fate;
What Heavens would have thee to,
Though they thy wayes abhorre,
That thou of force must doe,
And thou canst doe no more:
This reason would fulfill,

Their worke should serve their will.

Are we not heires of death,
In whom there is no trust?
Who, toss'd with restlesse breath,
Are but a dramme of dust;
Yet fooles when as we erre,
And Heavens doe wrath contract,
If they a space deferre
Just vengeance to exact,
Pride in our bosome creepes,
And misinformes us thus,
That love in pleasure sleepes,
Or takes no care of us :
"The eye of Heaven beholds,
What every heart enfoldes."

The gods digest no crime,
Though they (delaying long)
In the offender's time,
Seeme to neglect a wrong,

Till others of their race
Fill up the cup of wrath,
Whom ruine and disgrace
Long time attended hath;
And Gyges fault we feare,
To Croesus charge be lay'd,
Which love will not forbeare,
Though it be long delay'd :
"For, O! sometimes the gods
Must plague sinne with sharpe rods."

And loe, how Crœsus still,
Tormented in his minde,
Like to reeds on a hill,
Doth quake at every winde !
Each step a terrour brings;
Dreames do by night afflict him,
And by day many things;
All his thoughts doe convict him;
He his starre would controule,
This makes ill not the worst,
Whilst he wounds his own soule,
With apprehensions first :
"Man may his fate foresee,

But not shunne Heaven's decree."

CHORUS FOURTH.

LOE all our time even from our birth,
In misery almost exceeds:

For where we finde a moment's mirth,
A month of mourning still succeeds;
Besides the evils that nature breeds,
Whose paines doe us each day appall,
Infirmities which frailty sends,

The losse of that which fortune lends ;
And such disasters as oft fall,

Yet to farre worse our states are thrall,
Whil'st wretched man with man contends,
And every one his whole force bends,
How to procure another's losses,
But this torments us most of all:

The minde of man, which many a fancy tosses,
Doth forge unto it selfe a thousand crosses.

O how the soule with all her might
Doth her celestiall forces straine,
That so she may attaine,the light
Of Nature's wonders, which remaine
Hid from our eyes! we strive in vaine
To seeke out things that are unsure:
In sciences to seeme profound,
We dive so deepe, we finde no ground;
And the more knowledge we procure,
The more it doth our mindes allure,
Of mysteries the depth to sound;
Thus our desires we never bound;
Which by degrees thus drawn on still,
The memory may not endure;

But like the tubs which Danaus' daughters fill,
Doth drinke no oftner then constrain'd to spill.

Yet how comes this? and O how can

Cleare'knowledge thus (the soule's chiefe treasure)
Be cause of such a crosse to man,
Which should afford him greatest pleasure?
This is, because we cannot measure

:limits that to it belong,

(bent to tempt forbidden things) soare too high with nature's wings, i weakest whil'st we thinke us strong; › Heavens, which hold we do them wrong

try their grounds, and what thence springs,

s crosse upon us justly brings:

th knowledge, knowledge is confus'd,

1 growes a griefe ere it be long;

hat which a blessing is when rightly us'd,

th grow the greatest crosse when once abus'd.

! what avaiels this unto us,
10 in this vaile of woes abide,
th endlesse toyles to study thus

learn the thing that Heaven would hide!
d trusting to too blinde a guide,
spy the planets how they move,

d too (transgressing common barres)
e constellation of the starres,
d all that is decreed above,
ereof (as oft the end doth prove)
ecret sight our wel-fare marres,

i in our brests breeds endlesse warres,
il'st what our horoscopes foretell,

r expectations doe disprove :

se apprehended plagues prove such a Hell, it then we would unknow them till they fell.

is is the pest of great estates,
ey by a thousand meanes devise
w to fore-know their doubtful fates;
i like new gyants, scale the skies,
avens secret store-house to surprise;
ich sacrilegious skill we see

th what great paine they apprehend it,
d then how foolishly they spend it.
learne the thing that once must be;
by should we seeke our destiny?
it be good, we long attend it;

t be ill none may amend it:

ch knowledge but torments the minde; t us attend the Heavens' decree:

r those whom this ambiguous art doth blinde, ay what they seeke to flye, the rather finde.

id loe of late, what hath our king
7 his preposterous travels gain'd,
searching out each threatned thing,
hich Atis' horoscope contain'd?

or what the Heavens had once ordain'd,
bat by no meanes he could prevent;
ad yet he labours to finde out
hrough all the oracles about,
f future things the hid event.
his doth his raging minde torment:
Now in his age unwisely stout)
o fight with Cyrus, but no doubt

he Heavens are griev'd thus to heare told
ong ere the time their darke intent.
et such of Tantalus the state behold,
V ho dare the secrets of great love unfold.

CHORUS FIFTH.

s'r not a wonder thus to see low by experience each man reeds n practis'd volumes penn'd by deeds, How things below inconstant be; fet whil'st our selves continue free,

We ponder oft, but not apply

That pretious oyle, which we might buy,
Best with the price of others' paines,
Which (as what not to us pertaines)
To use we will not condescend,

As if we might the fates defie,

Still whilst untouch'd our state remaines ; But soon the Heavens a change may send: No perfect blisse before the end.

When first we fill with fruitfull seed
The apt conceiving wombe of th' Earth,
And seeme to banish feare of dearth;
With that which it by time may breed,
Still dangers do our hopes exceed :
The frosts may first with cold confound
The tender greenes which decke the ground,
Whose wrath though April's smiles asswage,
It must abide th' Eolian rage,

Which too ore-com'd, whilst we attend
All Ceres' wandring tresses bound,

The reines let from their cloudy cage

May spoile what we expect to spend:
No perfect blisse before the end.

Loe, whil'st the vine-tree great with grapes,
With nectar'd liquor strives to kisse
Embracing elmes not lov'd amisse,
Those clusters lose their comely shapes,
Whilst by the thunder burn'd, in heapes
All Bacchus hopes fall downe and perish:
Thus many thing doe fairly flourish,
Which no perfection can attaine,
And yet we worldlings are so vaine,
That our conceits too high we bend,
If fortune but our spring-time cherish,
Though divers stormes we must sustaine,
To harvest ere our yeares ascend:
No perfect blisse before the end.

By all who in this world have place,
There is a course which must be runne,
And let none thinke that he hath wonne,
Till first he finish'd hath his race;
The forrests through the which we trace,
Breed ravenous beasts, which doe abhorre us,
And lye in wait still to devoure us,
Whil'st brambles doe our steppes beguile,
The feare of which though we exile,
And to our marke with gladnesse tend,
Then balles of gold are laid before us,
To entertaine our thoughts a while,
And our good meaning to suspend :
No perfect blisse before the end.

Behold how Croesus long hath liv'd,
Throughout this spatious world admir'd,
And having all that he desir'd,
A thousand meanes of joy contriv'd;
Yet suddenly is now depriv'd

Of all that wealth; and strangely falles:
For every thing his sprite appalles,
His sonne's decease, his countrye's losse,
And his owne state, which stormes doe tosse:

Thus he who could not apprehend,
Then whil'st he slept in marble walles,

No, nor imagine any crosse,

To beare all those his brest must lend:
No perfect blisse before the end.

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