ANTONIUS

Well; be her love to me or false, or true, Once in my soul a cureless wound I feel. I Jove: nay burn in fire of her love: Each day, each night his Image haunts my mind, Her self my dreams: and still I tired am, And still I am with burning pincers nipped. Extreme my harm: yet sweeter to my sense Then boiling Torch of jealous torments fire: This grief, nay rage, in me such stir does keep, And thorns me still, both when I wake and sleep. Take Caesar conquest, take my goods, take he Th'onor to be Lord of the earth alone, My sons, my life bent headlong to mishaps: No force, so not my Cleopatra take. So foolish I, I cannot her forget, Though better were I banished her my thought. Like to the sick whose throat the fevers fire Hath vehemently with thirsty drought inflamed, Drinks still, albe the drink he still desires Be nothing else but fuel to his flame. He cannot rule himself: his health's respect Yieldeth to his distempered stomachs heat. Alas! it is too strong. Mishaps oft times are by some comfort born: But these, ay me! whose weights oppress my heart, Too heavy lie, no hope can them relieve. There rests no more, but that with cruel blade For lingering death a hasty way be made. Blood and alliance nothing do prevail To cool the thirst of hight ambitious breasts: The son his Father hardly can endure, Brother his brother, in one common Realm. So fervent this desire to Command: Such jealousy it kindleth in our hearts, Sooner will men permit another should Love her they love then wear the crown they wear. All laws it breaks, turns all things upside down: Amity, kindred, nought so holy is ut it defiles. A monarchy to gain None cares which way, so he may it obtain. All that I can is done: for last assay (When all means failed) I to entreaty fell, (Ah coward creature!) whence again repulsed Of combat I unto him proffer made: Though he in prime, and I by feeble age Mightily weakened both in force and skill. Yet could not he his coward heart advance Basely afraid to try so praiseful chance. This makes me plain, makes me my self accuse, Fortune in this her spiteful force does use against my grey hairs: in this unhappy I epine at heavens in my haps pitiless. Amam, a woman both in might and mind, In Mars his school who never lesson learned, Should me repulse, chase, ouerthow, destroy, Me of such fame, bring to so low and ebb? Alcides blood, who from my infancy With happy prowess crowned have my praise Witness thou Gaul unused to servile yoke, Thou valiant Spain, you fields of Thessaly With millions of mourning cries bewailed, Twice watered now with blood of Italy. Thou knowest rich Egypt (Egypt of my deeds Fair and foul subject) Egypt ah! thou knowest How I behaved me fighting for thy king, When I regainde him his rebellious Realm: Against his foes in battle showing force, And after fight in victory remorse. Yet if to bring my glory to the ground, Fortune had made me overthrown by one Of greater force, of better skill then I: One of those Captains feared so of old, Camill, Marcellus, Worthy Scipio, This late great Caesar, honour of our state, Or that great Pompei aged grown in arms; That after harvest of a world of men Made in a hundred battles, fights, assaults, My body thorough pierced with push of pike Had vomited my blood, in blood my life, In midst of millions fellows in my fallen: The less her wrong, the less should my woe: Nor she should pain, nor I complain me so. No, no, whereas I should have died in arms, And vanquished oft new armies should have armed, New battles given, and rather lost with me All this whole world submitted unto me: A man who never saw enlaced pikes With bristled points against his stomach bent, Who fears the field, and hides him cowardly Dead at the very noise the soldiers make. His virtue, fraud, deceit, malicious guile, His arms the arts that false Ulysses used, Known at Modena, where the Consuls both Death-wounded were, and wounded by his men To get their army, war with it to make Against his faith, against his country soil, Of Lepidus, which to his succours came, To honour whom he was by duty bound, The Empire he usurped: corrupting first with baits and bribes the most partly of his men. Yet me hath overcome, and made his pray, And state of Room, with me hath overcome. Strange! one disordered act at Actium The earth subdu'de, my glory hath obscured. For since, as one whom heavens wrath attaints With fury caught, and more then furious Vexed with my evils, I never more had care My armies lost, or lost name to repair: I did no more resist. well ought I curse within my grieved soul, Lamenting day and night, this senseless love, Whereby my fair enticing foe entrapped My hedelesse Reason, could no more escape. It was not Fortune's ever changing face: It was not Dest nies chaungles Violence Forged my mishap. Alas! who does not know They make, nor mar, nor any thing can do. Fortune, which men so fear, adore, detest, Is but a chance whose cause unknown does rest. Although oft times the cause is well perceived, But not effect the same that was conceived. Pleasure, nought else, the plague of this our life, Our life which still a thousand plagues pursue, Alone hath me this strange disastre spun, Fallen from a soldier to a chamberer, Careless of virtue, careless of all praise. Nay, as the fatted swine in filthy mire With glutted heart I wallowed in delights, All thoughts of honour trodden under foot. So I me lost: for finding this sweet cup Pleasing my taste, unwife I drunk my fill, And through the sweetness of that poisons power By steps I drove my former wits astray. I made my friends, offended me forsake, I help my foes against my self to rise. I robbed my subjects, and for followers I saw my self be set with flatterers. Mine idle arms fair wrought with spiders work, My scattered men without their ensigns strayed: Caesar mean while who never would have dared To cope with me, me suddenly despised, Took heart to fight, and hop'de for victory On one so gone, who glory had forgone. Yet nought afflicts me, nothing kills me so, As that I so my Cleopatra see Practice with Caesar, and to him transport My flame, her love, more deer then life to me. Too wise a head she wear Too much inflamed with greatness, evermore Gaping for our great Empires government. But still with me good fortune did abide. Pelusium lost, and Actian overthrow, Both by her fraud: my well appointed fleet, And trusty Soldiers in my quarrel armed, Whom she, false she, in stead of my defence, Came to persuade, to yield them to my foe: Such honour Thyre done, such welcome given, Their long close talks I neither knew, nor would, And treacherous wrong Alexas hath me done, Witness too well her perjured love to me. But you Oh Gods (if any faith regard) With sharp revenge her faithless change reward. I do my best, but ah! can not do so. The ceases thought of my felicity Plunges me more in this adversity. For nothing so a man in ill torments, As who to him his good state represents. This makes my rack, my anguish, and my woe Equal unto the hellish passion grow, When I to mind my happy puissance call Which erst I had by warlike conquest won, And that good fortune which me never left, Which hard disastre now hath me bereft. With terror tremble all the world I made At my sole word, as Rushes in the streams At waters will: I conquered Italy, I conquered Room, that nations so redoubt. I Bore (mean while besieging Mutina ) Two consuls armies for my ruin brought. Bathed in their blood, by their death's witnessing My force and skill in matters Martial. To wreak thy uncle, unkind Caesar, I With blood of enemies the banks embrued Of stained Enipeus, hindering his course Stopped with heaps of piled carcases: When Cassius and Brutus ill betide Marched against us, by us twice put to flight, But by my sole conduct: for all the time Caesar hart-sick with fear and fever lay. Who knows it not? and how by every one Fame of the fact was given to me alone. There sprang the love, the never changing love, Wherein my heart hath since to yours be bound: There was it, my Lucill, you Brntus saved, And for your Brutus Antony, you found. Better my hap in gaining such a friend, Then in subduing such and enemy. Now former virtue dead does me forsake, Fortune engulfs me in extreme distress: She turns from me her smiling countenance, Casting on me mishap upon mishap, Left and betrayed of thousand thousand friends, Once of my suit, but you Lucill are left Remaining to me steadfast as a tower In holy love, in spite of Fortune's blasts. But if of any God my voice be herd, And be not vainly scatt' read in the heavens, Such goodness shall not glorilesse be lost. But coming ages still there of shall boast. Never will he his Empire think assured While in this world Mark Antony shall live. Sleepeles Suspicion, Pale distrust, cold fear Always to princes company do bear Bred of reports: reports which night and day Perpetual guests from court go not away. He fears not them, their feeble force he knows. Fortune may change again. The wolf is not so hurtful to the fold, Frost to the grapes, to ripened fruits the rain: As pleasure is to princes full of pain. There needs no proof, but by unhappy I, Who lost my empire, honour, life thereby, In only this Like Hercules am I, In this I prove me of his lineage right: In this himself, his deeds I show in this: In this, nought else, my ancestor he is. But go we: die I must, and with brave end Conclusion make of all foregoing harms: Die, die I must: I must a noble death, A glorious death unto my succour call: I must deface the shame of time abused, I must adorn the wanton loves I used, With some courageous act: that my last day By mine own hand my spots may wash away. Come deer Lucill: alas! why weep you thus! This mortal lot is common to us all. We must all die, each does in homage owe Unto that God that shared the Realms below Ah sighs no more: alas! appeace your woes, For by your grief my grief more eager grows, Lucil. sole comfort of my bitter case, The only trust, the only hope I have, In last despair: Ah is not this the day That death should me of life and love bereave? What wait I for that have no refuge left, But am sole remnant of my fortune left? All leave me, fly me: none, no not of them Which of my greatness greatest good received, Stands with my fallen: they seem as now ashamed That heretofore they did me ought regard: They draw them back, showing they followed me, Not to partake my harm's, but cozen me. What sudden chance thee towards us hath brought