ANTONINUS

Her eyes on me, Fair Venus son draw forth a leaden dart, And that she may hate me, transfix her with it, Or if thou needs wilt use a golden one, Shoot in the behalf of any other, Thou knowest I am thy votary else where. Rather a bright Sun Too glorious for him to gaze upon That took not first flight from the Eagles aciry. As I look on the temples, or the gods, And with that reverence Lady I behold you, And shall do ever. Oh rather take A higher flight. Refuse you Madam, such a worm as I am, Refuse, what kings upon their knees would sue for? Call it, great Lady, by another name, And humble modesty that would not match A Molehill with Olympus. If you love valour, As it's a kingly virtue, seek it out, And cherish it in a king, there it shines brightest, And yields the bravest lustre. Look on Epire, A Prince, in whom it is incorporate, And let it not disgrace him, that he was Overcome by Casar, (it was a victory To stand so long against him,) had you seen him, How in one bloody seen he did discharge The parts of a Commander, and a soldier, Wise in direction, bold in execution; You would have said, great Caesars self excepted, The world yields not his equal. It mere fortune, Courage had no hand in it. In her looks Revenge is written. The tender of My life, my service, not since you vouchsafe it, My love, my heart, my all, and pardon me: Pardon dread Princess that I made some scruple To leave a valley of security To mount up to the hill of Majesty, On which the nearer Jove the nearer lightning. What knew I but your grace made trial of me? Durst I presume to embrace, where but to touch With and vnmannerd hand was death? the Fox When he saw first the forests king, the Lion Was almost dread with fear, the second view Only a little daunted him, the third He durst salute him boldly: pray you apply this, And you shall find a little time will teach me To look with more familiar eyes upon you Then duty yet allows me. O I am lost for ever, lost Macrinus, The anchor of the wretched, hope for sakes me, And with one blast of fortune all my light Of happiness is put out. Yet poison still is poison Though drunk in gold, and all these flattering glories To me, ready to starve, a painted banquet And no essential food: when I am scorchd With fire, can flames in any other quench me? What is her love to me, greatness, or Empire, That am slave to another, who alone Can give me ease or freedom? Go then Macrinus To Dorothea, tell her I have worn, In all the battles I have fought her figure, Her figure in my heart, which Like a diety Hath still protected me, thou canst speak well, And of thy choyself language, spare a little To make her understand how much I love her, And how I languish for her, bear her these jewels Sent in the way of sacrifice, not service, As to my goddess. All lets thrown behind me, Or fears that may deter me: say this morning I mean to visit her by the name of friendship, No words to contradict this. Yet this Is adamant to her, that melts to you In drops of blood. Perhaps 'Tis my religion makes you knit the brow, Yet be you mine, and ever be your own, I never will screw your conscience from that power On which you Christians lean. Sir you dishonour me, To sue for that which I disclay me to have, I shall more glory in my sufferings gain, Then you in giving judgement, since I offer My blood up to your anger: nor do I kneel To keep a wretched life of mine from ruin: Preserve this temple (built fair as your is) And Caesar never went in greater triumph Then I shall to the scaffold. Is this the place where virtue is to suffer, And heavenly beauty leaving this base earth, To make a glad return from whence it came, Is it Macrinus? a scaffold thrust forth Then with her die The abstract of all sweetness that's in woman, Set me down friend, that ere the iron hand Of death close up mine eyes, they may at once Take my last leave both of this light, and her: For she being gone, the glorious Sun himself To me's Cymerian darkness. Nay weep not, Though tears of friendship be a sovereign balm, On me they are cast a way: it is decreed That I must die with her, our clew of life Was spun together. Oh Macrinus, TO would linger out my tormentselfe, not kill me, Which is the end I aim at, being to die to. What instrument more glorious can I wish for, Then what is made sharp by my constant love And true affection. It may be the duty And loyal service with which I pursued her, And sealed it with my death, will be remembered Among her blessed actions, and what honour Can I desire beyond it? See she comes, How sweet her innocence appears, more Like To heaven it self then any sacrifice That can be offered to it. By my Hope's Of joys hereafter, the sighed makes me doubtful In my belief, nor can I think our gods Are good, or to be served, that take delight In offerings of this kind, that to maintain Their power, do face the master piece of nature, Which they themselves come short of she ascends, And every step raises her nearer heaven. What God so erethou art that most enjoy her, Receive in her a boundless happiness Good sir be not offended, nor deny My last of pleasures in this happy object That I shall ere be blessed with. She smiles, Unmoved by Mars, as if she were assured Death looking on her constancy would forget The use of his inevitable hand. Oh take me thither with you. She minds him not, what object Is her eye fixed on? Mark her. I feels a holy fire That yields a comfortable heat within me. I am quite altered from the thing I was. See I can stand, and go alone, thus kneels To heavenly Dorothea, touch her hand With a religious kiss. Sir I be seech you, Being so near our ends diuoroe us not. Oh take my soul along to wait on mine. Has your ear Macrinus Herd none then? But can there be In such a noble Casker, wherein lies Beauty and chastity in their full perfections, A rocky heart killing with cruelty A life thats prostrated beneath your feet? Good sweetness, you now have it, and shall go, Be but so merciful, before your wounding me With such a mortal weapon, as Farewell, To let me murmur to your Virgin care, What I was loath to lay on any tongue But this mine own. My true love dares not do it. Come, let me tune you, glaze not thus your eyes With selflove of a vowed Virginity, Make every man your glass, you see our Sex Do never murder propagation, We all desire your sweet society, And if you bar me from it, you do kill me, And of my blood are guilty. Could not my Fortune's (Reared higher far then yours) be worthy of you, Me thinks my deer affection makes you mine. Your mocks are great ones, none beneath the Sun Will I be servant too: on my knees I beg it, Pity me wondrous maid. This Knee is Emblem of and humbled heart, That heart which tortured is with your disdain, Justly for scorning others; even this heart, To which for pity such a Princess sues, As in her hand offers me all the World, Great Caesars daughter. Thou killest me Dorothea, o Dorothea. Where, Why do you mooke me, Age on my head hath stuck no white hairs yet, Yet I'm and old man, a found doting fool Upon a woman, I to buy her beauty, (Truth I am bewitched) offer my life, And she for my acquaintance hazirds hers, Yet for our equal sufferings, none holds out A hand of pity. Hell on your fiddling. Take and Asses head Sir, Confusion on your fooleries, your charms, Thou stinking Glister-pipe, where's the God of rest, Thy Pills, and base Apothecary drug Threatened to bring unto me, out you Impostors, Quacksaluing, cheating Mountbankes, your skill Is to make found men sick, and sick men kill. I am that spirit, Or if I be not (were you not my father) One made of Iron should how that hand in pieces That so defaees this sweet Monument Of my loves beauty? To death. Would I live in bliss? O Treasure, by enchantment locked In Caves as deep as hell, am I as near. When a Tiger Leaps into a timorous herd, with ravenous Jaws Being hunger-starved, what Tragedy then begins? I must. Climb that sweet Virgin tree. And pluck that fruit which none I think ever tasted: Rise for the Roman Empire ( Dorothea ) I would not wound thine honour, pleasure forced Are unripe Apples, sour, not worth the plucking, Yet let me tell you, 'tis my father's will, That I should seize upon you as my prey. Which I abhor as much as the blackest sin The villainy of man did ever act. Sapritius breaks in and Macrinus. What will you do deer Sir. Good sir give over, The more you wrong her, your selves vexed the more, There's my wretched father. Oh bloody hangmen, thine own gods give thee breath, Each of thy tortors is my several death. Grant that I may go with her, and I will. Gracious madame hear me. In what thou thinkest thou art most wise, thou art Grossly abused Macrinus, and most foolish. For any man to match above his rank, Is but to fell his liberty; with Artemia I still must live a servant, but enjoying Divinest Dorothea, I shall rule, Rule as becomes a husbands for the dangers, Or call it if you will assured destruction, I sleight it thus. If then thou art my friend, As I dares wear thou art, and wilt not take A Governors place upon thee, be my helper. Will you dishonour her sweet charity. Who saved you from the tree of death and shame. She comes, beware and mend. Oh I am thunder-struckel We are both over whelmed. A woman! a wronged Princess: from such a star Blazing with fires of hate, what can be looked for But tragical events? my life is now The subject of her tyranny. That gold will melt to poison. For love you bear to her, for some good turns Done you by me, give me one piece of silver. Stay one word yet, you now are full of gold. 'Tis not in the devil, Nor all his wicked arts to shake such goodness. My self Macrunis How can I be my self, when I am mangled Into a thousand pieces, here moves my head, But where my heart? where ever, that lies dead. It is not in the world? TO is no Roman gods can strike These fearful terrors, Oh thou happy maid, Forgive this wicked purpose of my father.