CHARMIAN

Such was the rigour of your destiny. Things here below are in the heavens begotten, Before they be in this our wordle born: And never can our weakness turn awry The stailesse course of powerful destiny. Nought here force, reason, human providence, Holy devotion, noble blood prevails: And Jove himself whose hand does heavens rule, Who both to gods and men as King Commands, Who earth (our firm support) with plenty stores, Mouses air and sea with twinkling of his eye, Who all can do, yet never can undo What once hath been by their hard laws decreed. When Trojan walls, great Neptune's workmanship. Environed were with Greeks, and Fortune's wheel Doubtful ten years now to the camp did turn, And now again towards the town returned. How many times did force and fury swell In Hector's veins egging him to the spoil Of conquered foes, which at his blows did fly, As fearful sheep at feared wolves approach: To save (in vain: for why? it would not be) Poor walls of Troy from adversaries rage, Who died them in blood, and cast to ground Heaped them with bloody burning carcases. No, Madame, think, that if the ancient crown Of your progenitors that Nilus ruled, Force take from you; the Gods have willed it so, To whom oft times Princes are odious. They have to every thing and end ordained; All worldly greatness by them bounded is: Some sooner, later some, as they think best: None their decree is able to infringe. But, which is more, to us disastered men Which subject are in all things to their will, Their will is hid: nor while we live, we know How, or how long we must in life remain. Yet must we not for that feed on despair, And make us wretched ere we wretched be: But always hope the best, even to the last, That from our selves the mischief may not grow. Then, Madame, help your self, leave of in time Antony's wrack, left it your wrack procure: Retire you from him, save from wrathful rage Of angry Caesar both your Realm and you. You see him lost, so as your amity Unto his evils can yield no more relief. You see him ruined, so as your support No more henceforth can him with comfort raise. Withdraw you from the storm: persist not still To lose your self: this royal diadem Regain of Caesar. What helps his wrack this everlasting love?. Oh too cruel lot! Oh too hard chance! Sister what shall we do, What shall we do, alas! if murdering dart Of death arrive while that in slumbering swoon Half dead she lie with anguish overgone? Madame. But since Gods would not, could you do withal? And have they not all power on men's affairs? Ill done to lose your self, and to no end. But this your love nought mitigates his praine. Live for your sons. Hardhearted mother! Then will you them deprive of royal right? Do you not them deprive of heritage, That give them up to adversaries hands, A man forsaken fearing to forsake, Whom such huge numbers hold environed? T'abandon one gainst whom the frowning world Banded with Caesar makes conspiring war. Cruelty to shun you self-cruel are: Our first affection to ourself is endue. Next it extends unto Our children, friends, and to our country soil. And you for some respect of wifely love, (Albe scarce wifely) lose your native land, Your children, friends, and (which is more) your life, With so strong charms does love bewitch our wits: So fast in us this fire once kindled flames. Yet if his harm by yours redress might have, And that, as Alcest to her self unkind, You might exempt him from the laws of death. But he is sure to die: and now his sword Already moisted is in his warm blood, Helpless for any succour you can bring Against death's sting, which he must shortly feel. Then let your love be Like the love of old Which Carrion Queen did nourish in his heart Of his Mausolus: build for him a tomb Whose stateliness a wonder new may make. Let him, let him have sumptuous funerals: Let graven thereon the horror of his fights: Let earth be buried with unburied heaps. Frame their Pharsaly, and discoloured stream's Of deep Enipeus: frame the grassy plain, Which lodged his camp at siege of Mutina. Make all his combats, and courageous acts: And yearly plays to his praise institute: Honour his memory: with doubled care Breed and bring up the children of you both In Caesars grace: who as a noble Prince Will leave them Lords of this most glorious realm. And think you Madame, we from you will partly? Think you alone to feel death's ugly dart? Think you to leave us? and that the same sun Shall see at once you dead, and us alive? Weel die with you: and Clotho pitiless Shall us with you in hellish boat embark: Madame for Gods love Leave us not thus: bid us yet first farewell. Alas! weep over Antony: Let not His body be without endue rites entombed. How faint she is? Ah let us weep While moisture lasts, then die before his feet. Antony take our tears: this is the last Of all the duties we to thee can yield, Before we die. Inhuman he, who his own death pursues.