A Discourse of Life and Death, by Mornay; and Antonius by Garnier Part 2

We want that wofull song, Wherwith wood-musiques Queene Doth ease her woes, among, fresh springtimes bushes greene, On pleasant branche alone Renewing auntient mone.

We want that monefull sounde, That pratling _Progne_ makes On fieldes of _Thracian_ ground, Or streames of _Thracian_ lakes: To empt her brest of paine For _Itys_ by her slaine.

Though _Halcyons_ doo still, Bewailing _Ceyx_ lot, The Seas with plainings fill Which his dead limmes haue got, Not euer other graue Then tombe of waues to haue: And though the birde in death That most _Meander_ loues So swetely sighes his breath When death his fury proues,_ _As almost softs his heart, And almost blunts his dart: Yet all the plaints of those, Nor all their tearfull larmes, Cannot content our woes, Nor serue to waile the harmes, In soule which we, poore we, To feele enforced be.

Nor they of _Phaebus_ bredd In teares can doo so well, They for their brother shedd, Who into _Padus_ fell, Rash guide of chariot cleare Surueiour of the yeare.

Nor she whom heau'nly powers To weping rocke did turne, Whose teares distill in showers, And shew she yet doth mourne.

Where with his toppe to Skies Mount _Sipylus_ doth rise.

Nor weping drops which flowe From barke of wounded tree, That _Myrrhas_ shame do showe With ours compar'd may be, To quench her louing fire Who durst embrace her sire.

Nor all the howlings made On _Cybels_ sacred hill By Eunukes of her trade, Who _Atys_, _Atys_ still With doubled cries resound,_ _Which _Echo_ makes rebound.

Our plaints no limits stay, Nor more then doo our woes: Both infinitely straie And neither measure knowes.

_In measure let them plaine:_ _Who measur'd griefes sustaine._

_Cleopatra._ _Eras._ _Charmion._ _Diomede._

_Cleopatra._

That I haue thee betraid, deare _Antonie_, My life, my soule, my Sunne? I had such thought?

That I haue thee betraide my Lord, my King?

That I would breake my vowed faith to thee?

Leaue thee? deceiue thee? yeelde thee to the rage Of mightie foe? I euer had that hart?

Rather sharpe lightning lighten on my head: Rather may I to deepest mischiefe fall: Rather the opened earth deuower me: Rather fierce _Tigers_ feed them on my flesh: Rather, o rather let our _Nilus_ send, To swallow me quicke, some weeping _Crocodile_.

And didst thou then suppose my royall hart Had hatcht, thee to ensnare, a faithles loue?

And changing minde, as Fortune changed cheare, I would weake thee, to winne the stronger, loose?

O wretch! o caitiue! o too cruell happe!

And did not I sufficient losse sustaine Loosing my Realme, loosing my liberty, My tender of-spring, and the ioyfull light Of beamy Sunne, and yet, yet loosing more Thee _Antony_ my care, if I loose not What yet remain'd? thy loue alas! thy loue, More deare then Scepter, children, freedome, light.

So ready I to row in _Charons_ barge, Shall leese the ioy of dying in thy loue: So the sole comfort of my miserie To haue one tombe with thee is me bereft.

So I in shady plaines shall plaine alone, Not (as I hop'd) companion of thy mone, O height of griefe! _Eras_ why with continuall cries Your griefull harmes doo you exasperate?

Torment your selfe with murthering complaints?

Straine your weake breast so oft, so vehemently?

Water with teares this faire alablaster?

With sorrowes sting so many beauties wound?

Come of so many Kings want you the hart Brauely, stoutly, this tempest to resist?

_Cl._ My eu'lls are wholy vsupportable, No humain force can them withstand, but death.

_Eras._ To him that striues nought is impossible.

_Cl._ In striuing lyes no hope of my mishapps.

_Eras._ All things do yeelde to force of louely face.

_Cl._ My face too louely caus'd my wretched case.

My face hath so entrap'd, so cast vs downe, That for his conquest _Caesar_ may it thanke, Causing that _Antony_ one army lost The other wholy did to _Caesar_ yeld.

For not induring (so his amorouse sprite Was with my beautie fir'de) my shamefull flight, Soone as he saw from ranke wherein he stoode In hottest fight, my Gallies making saile: Forgetfull of his charge (as if his soule Vnto his Ladies soule had bene enchain'd) He left his men, who so couragiouslie Did leaue their liues to gaine him victorie.

And carelesse both of fame and armies losse My oared Gallies follow'd with his s.h.i.+ps Companion of my flight, by this base parte Blasting his former flouris.h.i.+ng renowne.

_Eras._ Are you therefore cause of his ouerthrowe?

_Cl._ I am sole cause: I did it, only I.

_Er._ Feare of a woman troubled so his sprite?

_Cl._ Fire of his loue was by my feare enflam'd.

_Er._ And should he then to warre haue ledd a Queene?

_Cl._ Alas! this was not his offence, but mine.

_Antony_ (ay me! who else so braue a chiefe!) Would not I should haue taken Seas with him: But would haue left me fearfull woman farre From common hazard of the doubtfull warre.

O that I had beleu'd! now, now of _Rome_ All the great Empire at our beck should bende.

All should obey, the vagabonding _Scythes_, The feared _Germains_, back-shooting _Parthians_, Wandring _Numidians_, _Brittons_ farre remoou'd, And tawny nations scorched with the Sunne.

But I car'd not: so was my soule possest, (To my great harme) with burning iealousie: Fearing least in my absence _Antony_ Should leauing me retake _Octauia_.

_Char._ Such was the rigour of your destinie.

_Cl._ Such was my errour and obstinacie.

_Ch._ But since G.o.ds would not, could you doe withall?

_Cl._ Alwaies from G.o.ds good happs, not harms, do fall.

_Ch._ And haue they not all power on mens affaires?

_Cl._ They neuer bow so lowe, as worldly cares.

But leaue to mortall men to be dispos'd Freelie on earth what euer mortall is.

If we therin sometimes some faultes commit, We may them not to their high maiesties, But to our selues impute; whose pa.s.sions Plunge vs each day in all afflictions.

Wherwith when we our soules do thorned feele, Flatt'ring our selues we say they dest'nies are: That G.o.ds would haue it so, and that our care Could not empeach but that it must be so.

_Char._ Things here belowe are in the heau'ns begot, Before they be in this our worlde borne: And neuer can our weaknes turne awry The stailes course of powerfull destenie.

Nought here force, reason, humaine prouidence, Holie deuotion, n.o.ble bloud preuailes: And Ioue himselfe whose hand doth heauens rule, Who both to G.o.ds and men as King commaunds, Who earth (our firme support) with plenty stores, Moues aire and sea with twinckling of his eie, Who all can doe, yet neuer can vndoe What once hath been by their hard laws decreed.

When _Troian_ walles, great _Neptunes_ workmans.h.i.+p, Enuiron'd were with _Greekes_, and Fortunes whele Doubtfull ten yeares now to the campe did turne, And now againe towards the towne return'd: How many times did force and fury swell In _Hectors_ veines egging him to the spoile Of conquer'd foes, which at his blowes did flie, As fearfull shepe at feared wolues approche: To saue (in vaine: for why? it would not be) Pore walles of _Troie_ from aduersaries rage, Who died them in bloud, and cast to ground Heap'd them with bloudie burning carcases.

No, Madame, thinke, that if the ancient crowne Of your progenitors that _Nilus_ rul'd, Force take from you; the G.o.ds haue will'd it so, To whome oft times Princes are odiouse.

They haue to euery thing an end ordain'd; All worldly greatnes by them bounded is; Some sooner, later some, as they think best: None their decree is able to infringe.

But, which is more, to vs disastred men Which subiect are in all things to their will, Their will is hidd: nor while we liue, we know How, or how long we must in life remaine.

Yet must we not for that feede on dispaire, And make vs wretched ere we wretched bee: But alwaies hope the best, euen to the last, That from our selues the mischief may not growe.

Then, Madame, helpe your selfe, leaue of in time _Antonies_ wracke, lest it your wracke procure: Retire you from him, saue frrom wrathfull rage Of angry _Caesar_ both your Realme and you.

You see him lost, so as your amitie Vnto his euills can yelde no more reliefe.

You see him ruin'd, so as your support No more hencefourth can him with comfort raise.

With-draw you from the storme: persist not still To loose your selfe: this royal diademe Regaine of _Caesar_.

_Cl._ Soner s.h.i.+ning light Shall leaue the daie, and darknes leaue the night: Sooner moist currents of tempestuous seas Shall waue in heauen, and the nightlie troopes Of starres shall s.h.i.+ne within the foming waues, Then I thee, _Antonie_, Leaue in depe distres.

I am with thee, be it thy worthy soule Lodge in thy brest, or from that lodging parte Crossing the ioyles lake to take hir place In place prepared for men Demy-G.o.ds.

Liue, if thee please, if life be lothsome die: Dead and aliue, _Antonie_, thou shalt see Thy princesse follow thee, folow, and lament, Thy wrack, no lesse her owne then was thy weale.

_Char._ What helps his wrack this euer-lasting loue?

_Cl._ Help, or help not, such must, such ought I proue.

_Char._ Ill done to loose your selfe, and to no ende.

_Cl._ How ill thinke you to follow such a frende?