ALADIN

Confederate Princes and my kind allies, Shall his proud nostrils breath those threats on us? Iconium and Larenda? I? No more? Had best look first, how safe his Prusa stands! Lords, I am moved, and will forget my Queen Was ere the issue of his hated blood! My spleen is tossed within; mine entrails pant, As, wen the Sea is raised with Southern gusts, The wind allayed, yet still the Waves will tremble, Princes, now bind your selves with such strong chains, Your faith and breathes can make; swear to me all, To be as firm to me against Amurath, As is the skin and lesh unto the Nerves; Besieged on every side? Iconi m taken? Entrenched within my foes my self must lie Wrapped in my Cities ruin! Turks come on! Why, so much of our blood Is already spilled as should the glittering Sun Exhale it upward, 'twould obnubulate It's luster, else to fiery Meteors turn. Some council (Lords) he that's amid the Sea, When every curled wave does threat his death Yet trusts upon the oars of his own arms, And sometime the salt foam does pity him, A Wolf, or Lion, that hath filled his gorge With bloody prey, at last will lie to sleep, And the unnaturalst creatures not forget Their love to those whom they do know their own! My wife's his Daughter; si ce we can ot stand His ury longer she sh ll S age his wrath. The boisterous Ocean wh no oppose, Growth's is lo to, when it hath no foes. Why then, I'll (Like the Roman Pompey ) hide My dying sighed, scorning Imperious looks Should grace so base a stroke with sad aspect; Thus will I muffle up and choke my groans, Least a grieved tear should quite put out the name, Of lasting courage in Carmanias fame. Threat all a Conqueror can, canst threat but death, And I can die, but if thou wouldst have mercy! — By all the rites of Mahomet I vow it! Go (Lords) go: fetch some straight. Oh Heavens! Oh fortune they that lean on thy cracked wheel, And trust a Kingdoms power, and domineer In a walled Palace, let them look on me, And thee ( Carmania ) greater instances The world affords not to demonstrate The frail estate of proudest Potentates, Of sturdiest Monarchies: high Pinnacles Are still invaded with the prouder winds; They must endure the threats of every blast; The tops of Caucasus and Pindus shake, With every crack of thunder; humble Vaults Are never touched with a bolt, ambiguous wings Hath all the state, that hovers over Kings. I, I, this vesture fits my misery! This badge of poverty must now prevail, Where all my Kingdoms power & strength does fail, Why should not a prophetic soul attend On great men's persons, and forewarn their ils? Raging Boots does not so turmoil The Lybian ford, as Fortune does great hearts. Be tona and Erynnis scourge us on Should wars and treasons cease, why our own weight Would send us to the Earth; as spreading arms Make the huge trees in tempest for to split. For as the slaughterman to pasture goes, And drags that Ox home first, whose Bulk is greatest, The lean he still lets feed: disease takes hold On bodies that are pampered with best fare; So does all ruin choose the fairest marks: At which it bends, and strikes it full of shafts, Ambition made me now that eminent but: And I that fell by mine own strength, mu to rise By professed weakness; Buckets full sink down: While empty ones danceith' air , and cannot drown. Come ( ords) he out oh S way can never range, Who is at f thest! worst never finds ill change. Sends our proud father in Law this greeting to us? Was our sword sheathed so soon to hear this answer? Then all here kiss my Sword, Which shall be steeped within the head-mans thr at We'll make him know those will not lie in War, Which may in policy in treat a peace! Hast thy course (time) and soon reduce the year! Ensigns may Ensigns meet, King, Great , scorns to avoid a Turk: Princes, and Neighbours, muster up your strength, That we may meet him on his full Career! And let it be Car niam is pride to say, To overcome him we asked no second day. Thne Oh Hymen, thine: Oh she, Whose Beauty's verse Calliope, Sing to Marriage rites and Io, Io to Hymen. To thee Apollo is my suit, Lend me a while thy silver Lute, Oh what a woe it is to bring, A Bride to Bed and never sing. Io to Hymen. When she's old, still seems she young, When she's week, to her be strong! Be Cyprus, both, and Paphos here, Love, sing with merry cheer. Io to Hymen. Stern Conqueror: but that thy daughter shows, There nce dw lt good in that ob urate breast, I would not pend a tear to soften thee! Thou seest my Countries turned into a Grave: My Cities car the Sun with fiereer flames, Which turn them into ashes! all my self So slickt and carved, that my amazed blood Knows not through which wound first to take it's way; If not on me, have mercy on my Babes! — Which, with thy mercy thou mayest turn to Love. Do (boys) and imitate your Parents tea es Which I (Like ) shed, when he beheld, H ctor thrice dragged about the rojan Walls. He that burst open the gates of Erebus, And roused the yelling Monster from his Den, Was conquered with a tear! great Monarch learn, To know how deer a King does weeping earn.