CROESUS

W Ho ever was so favoured by the Fates, As could Like us of full contentment boast, Loved of mine own, and feared of foreign states, I know not what it is for to be crossed. No thwarting chance my good hap does importune, In all attempts my success hath been such, The darling of heaven, the minion of fortune, I wot not what to wish I have so much. Mine eyes did never yet dismay my heart With no delightless object that they saw, My name applauded is in every partly My word and Oracle, my will a Law. My breast cannot contain this flood of joys That with a mighty stream overflows my mind, Which never dreamed of sorrow or annoys, But did in all a satisfaction find. My Soul then be content and take thy pleasure. And be not vexed with fear of any ill, My bliss abounds, I cannot count my treasure, And gold that conquers all, does what I will. And have you not t'extend my greatness strived, And entertained his ears with courteous phrases. Now while the Sun did peep through Thetis bower, And on the beauty's of Aurora gazed, Out of my body spoiled of moving power, All faculties of life dull sleep had razed, While as the sprite more powerful then ever Since least impeached with this earthly partly The verity from lies could best dissever Hid mysteries vnclouding to the heart. I only have two sons, and th'one you see The sign of Nature's indignation bears, And from his birth day domme is dead to me, Since he can pour no pleasure in my ears. The other Atis all my life's delight, In whom the treasures of my soul are kept, I thought (vain be my thought) in the twie-light I wot not whither yet I walked or slept. While he was sporting void of worldly cares, Not in a lists belonging to his merits, A pointed tool of iron fell unawares, And pierced his temples, and expelled his spirits. While the pale carcase seemed t'vpbraid mine eyes, The horror of the sighed my sense recalled, Which when I think of, yet my comfort die, Such and exceeding fear my spirit paid. This hath me moved, it touched my state so nearly, To match my son in marriage at this time With beauteous Caelia whom he loved most dearly, That both might reap the pleasure of their prime. And if the heavens his overthrow have decreed By destiny that can not be revoked, So shall we have behind some of his seed, Ere in his blossom all our Hope's be choked. Thus ere his soul lodge in the lightless shade, To-have of his raze 'twill mitigate my mind, I can not hold him altogether dead, That leaves his Image in some one behind. And for the time we do all that seems best For to prevent those but surmized annoys, Yet for all this my mind hath never rest, Some secret terror still disturbs my joys. Thy love (sage Greek) is grateful unto us, Whom Fame long since enamoured of thy deeds, We of thy virtues have herd her discuss, Who in extolling of the same exceeds. I wish that many such should here resort, Whose unstained life would teach us what were best; Whose graven aspect would grace so great a Court, And Like clear Lamps give light unto the rest. This is the nature of a worthy mind, It rather would be good then be so thought, As if it had no aim but Fame to find, Such as the shadow not the substance sought. Yet that pursues thee too which thon so fliest, Still troops applaud thy worth though thou not spy them, While thou wouldst press it down, it mounts up highest; For Fame and Honour follow those that fly them. And now I think in all the world none live's, That better may unfold what I would learn, Then thou to whom frank Nature largely gives The grace to see, the judgement to discern. Lo, you have seen in what I most repose My treasures huge, my great magnificence. I wot not what you mean by such surmises, And feigned Idea's of imagined bliss, This portrait of Fancy but entices Sick brains to dream that which indeed they miss. But I brook more than their conceits can show, Whose rich conjectures breed but poor effects: And I beseek you, did you ever know A man more blessed then I in all respects? Well, since that to a private Citizen You do ascribe the first most blessed estate. Now in the second rank of happy men Whom would you number in your own conceate? Then from this Cathagorie am I secluded, And is my state so vile unto thine eyes, That as one of all happiness denuded, Thou thus dost my felicity despise? Or thinkest thou me of judgement too remiss, A miser that in misery remains, The bastard child of Fortune, barred from bliss, Whom heavens do hate, and all the world disdains? Are base companions then to be compared With one that may consume such in his wrath? Who, as I please, do punish and reward, Whose words, nay, even whose looks yield life or death. I see this Grecian of a simple spirit, The which is capable of no great things, Men but advance him far above his merit, He can not comprehend the States of Kings. Fame did so largely of his worth report, It made me long to have him in my house, But all my expectations are come short, I think a Mountain hath brought forth a mouse. WHat uncouth fancies do affright my soul, And have captived it to a thousand fears? Strange cares suggesting grief my joys control, My mind some coming evil charactered bears, And credulous suspicion too too wise, To fortify my fears does means invent, While sudden terrors do my sprite surprise, And ominous presage of some bade event. I think the soul come of immortal brood As being partner of a divine pour Hath a foreknowledge both of evil and good, Although she can not fly a fatal hour. Though with this mortal veil being made half blind, She can not soar outright with her own wings, Yet she communicates unto the mind In cloudy dreams and mysteries strange things. Imagination wonderful in force Of foils the judgement with confusion so, That presupposing all things to be worse Then they fallen forth, we double our own woe. For as the shadow seems more monstrous still Then does the substance whence it hath the being, So apprehension of approaching ill Seems greater then it self, while fears are lying. This alteration too seems more then strange, Which at and instant hath over-whelmed my senses, I see (more then I thought) all states may change, Against the heaven earth can find no defences. My soul her wonted pleasure else is loathing, This hath indeed so deep impression left, A dream, a fantasy, a shadow, nothing Hath all my mirth even in a moment reft. No doubt but it disburdens much the mind, A Secretary in distress to have, Who by his own another's grief can find, Where glad minds scorn what they can not conceive. And I (Adrastus) would the cause declare With which I so torment my self in vain, Oh but I blush unfold my foolish care, It's but th'illusion of a drowsy brain. In what strange form could this disaster fallen, That is occasion of so great distress, Tell on at length th'originall of all, To hear of greater grief will make mine less. Now while this great disaster did occur, What came of him who was the cause of all? I grant the manner of so rare mischances Would force compossion from your greatest foe, Where all the griefe-begetting circumstances Do join to make a harmony in woe. But natural love does at our self begin, It moves far more to feel then hear mishaps, The perturbation that my sprite is in, Me in a maze of miscontentments wraps. We should such passed misfortunes pretermit, At least no more immoderately lament them, And as for those which are but coming yet, Use ordinary means for to prevent them. I will by all the means I may, prepare To save his youth, that he my age may cherish. If it be possible for mortal states To strive against the Stars and be more strong, I'll unarm Fortune, and resist the fates, By barring both all means to do me wrong. I have commanded under pain of death, That no such weapon be within my walls, As I supposed should have abridged his breath, T'eschew such sudden evil as rashly falls. He shall go rarely to the fields, and then With chosen bans be guarded all the time: Lo where he communes with some countrymen, We will go try what they would have of him. Be not discouraged by your base estate, Ye are my people, and I'll hear your plaint, A King must care for all, both small and great, And for to help afflicted never faint. The Sceptre such as these should chiefly shroud, Not cottages, but Castles spoil the Land, Advance the humble and t'abate the proud; This is a Virtue that makes Kings to stand. What would you then, that should be done by me? For to repay your lose; repair this wrong. I may not spare my Son for a respect, Which is not needful now for to be known, But I'll send others for the same effect, That this pestiferous Beast may be overthrown. Th'ostentiue gallants that our Grace attend, And wait occasion but advance their strength, Against the Boar shall all their forces bend, With hounds and darts still till he fallen at length. I swear this Monster shall when he is dead, A memorable monument remain, To Dians Church I'll consecrate his head, The Virgin-goddess darts no shaft in vain. I see what brave Desires boil in thy Soul, And make thee with immortal wings to flee, This hie-bent courage, nothing can control, All Lidia is not large euough for thee. Go, seek and Empire equal with thy mind, No common limits can confine thy thought; But while a full perfection thou wouldst find, I fear thy fallen turn all our Hope's to nought. And pardon me, (deer Son) it's a great Love That makes me watch so warily over thy ways, Affection of a Father what may move, Whom such and eminent danger not dismays? The Heavens of late advertised me by Dream, That some sad fortune did attend thy Youth, New Meteors and strange Stars through th'aire still stream, Which are as Oracles of Jove's own mouth. This was the cause that hastened Us so much To have thee bound to Himens hallowed Law, This was the cause that all our care was such, Out of our sighed all weapons to withdraw. Scorn not th'amazing Comets that thou notes, The Stars to mortal States have terms prefixed, And think not only that my love but dotes, For if thou fallen, my fate with thine is mixed. Well, well, my Son, I see thou must prevail, Go follow forth the chase, use thine own will, Yet stay, or let my words thus much avail, Walk warily now eschew this threatened ill. Thy haughty sprite t'attempt all hazards bent, I fear transport thee to a fatal strife, (God grant I be deceived) yet take good tent, Thy ouer-franke courage may betray thy life. And (deer Adrastus, ) I must let him know What benefits I have bestowed on thee, Not to upbraid thee, no, but for to show How I may trust thee best that's bound to me. When thou from Phrigia come defiled with blood, And a fraternal violated love: When in a most extreme estate thou stood, Chaced from thy father's face, cursed from above. Thou found me friendly, and my Court thy rest, A Sanctuary sacred for thy safety, Where thou wast entertained as pleased thee best, I think those dangers scaped should make thee crafty. Yet though I graced thee erst, was but a sign Of a heroic mind that helps the wretched: But in thy hands my soul isle now consign, And give a proof of love not to be matched. Behold how Atis of our age the shield, Whose harm as you have herd I feared ere now, Is to go take his pastime in the field, And with his custody isle credit you. I must my friend even fervently exhort, Wait on my son, remember of my dream, This dangerously delectable sport, Does make me fear the grief exceed the game. Thou ruthless Tyrant, ruin of my bliss, And didst thou so disguise thy devilish nature To recompense my courtesies with this? Ah cruel wretch, abominable creature. Thy Tigrish mind who could have well detected? In mortal breasts so great barbarity? What forward sprite could have such spite suspected? In hospitality hostility? Did I revive thee when thy Hope's were dead, When as thy life thy parents had not spared? And having heaped such favours on thy head, Is this? Is this? I find Adrastus, when I deeply scance Effectual motives of this fatal cross, That not thy malice, but mine own mischance Hath been occasion of our bitter lose. While barely with a superficial wit, We weigh the outside of such strange events, If but the mediate means our judgements hit, We search not the first cause, this much contents. When such prodigious accidents fallen out, Though they amaze our minds, and so they must, The ground of all comes from our self no doubt, Ah! man hath sinned, the heavens are always joust. Now when I search the secrets of my soul, And rip the corners of my corrupt mind, Mark of my former life th'offenciue scroule, And do examine how I was inclined, Oh then I see the angry hosts of heaven Come girded with flames to plague for my offences, Which once no doubt will with the world be even, And judge our thoughts, words, acts, and vain pretences. Son, t'is my pride that hath procured thy fallen, I'm guilty of thy blood, I gave the wound Which was thy death, and whose remembrance shall My life each day with many death's confound. Then injust Stars, your statutes I contemn; Oh! if I were confronted with the gods, I would their partial providence condemn, That in such sort do exercise their rods. Ah! my Sons death does show their judgement nought, What could he perpetrate against such Powers? Should he have suffered for his Father's fault? Whom without cause their wrong-spent wrath devours. Now all the world those deities may despise, Which plague the guiltless, and the guilty spare: Cease hapless man t'outrage thy self thus ways; I pardon thee, and pity thy despair. Cursed eyes, what sudden change hath drowned your lights, And made your mirthful objects mournful now? You that were still inurde to stately sights Since seated under and Imperial brow. O'reclouded now with vapours of my cares, Are low thrown down unto a hell of grief, And have no prospect but my souls despairs, The sad beholders of a rare mischief. Oh dead Adrastus I absolve thy ghost, Whose hand some secret destiny did charm, Thou hated by the Heavens, Wertenberg to thy cost And accidental Actor of our harm. No doubt some angry God hath laid this snare, And while thy purpose was the Boar to kill, Did intercept thy shaft amid the air, And threw it at my Son against thy will. Ah Son! must I be witness of thy death, Who view thee thus with violence to bleed, And yet want one on whom to pour my wrath, To take joust vengeance for so vile a deed? This wretch whose guiltless mind hath cleared his hand Grieved for his error, lo, unforced does fallen, And not as one that did in danger stand, For he lived still till I forgave him all. Thus have I but the heavens on whom I may Pour forth the poison of my troubled spirit, In my souls bitterness I'm forced to say, This seconds not their custom and my merit. I will not now rehearse, t'enlarge my grief, On what joust reasons my laments are grounded, But still will muse upon mine own mischief, While as my soul a thousand ways is wounded. What pensive pencil ever limmed aright The sad conceits of soul-consuming woe: Ah! words are weak to show the swelling hight Of inward anguish that overwhelms me so. Though many Monarchs jealously despise The rising Sun that their declining stains; And hate the Heir, who by their fallen must rise, As grieved to hear of death, or others reigns. My love towards Atis otherwise appeared, Whom, while for him I did my cares engage, I as a Father loved, as King not feared, The comfort, not th'encombrance of mine age. And hadst thou Son, as reason would, survived me, Who glauncd and vanished Like a lightning-flash, Then death of life could never have deprived me, While such a Phoenix had revived my ash. Ah! rage and grief must once be at a hight. These salt eie-floods must flow & have their course. And yet it is kindly. Where passion do domine they govern blindly. Infortunate at least may wail their Fate. The meanest comfort can to a wretch return, Is in calamine to-have leave to mourn. When Sandanis, I first thy faith did find, Thou dived so deeply in my bosorn then, That since thou kept the key still of my mind, And knew what I concealed from other men. Behold, I go to open up to you (Dear Treasurer of all my secrets still) A mighty enterprise I mind for now: A Physic in some sort assuage my ill. Which may unto my soul yield some relief, And make me to forgo sad thoughts content, Or else acquire copartners in my grief, If not for me, yet with me to lament. Since that it hath not pleased the Divine powers, That of my offspring I might comfort claim, Yet lest the ravenous course of flying hours Should make a prey of my respected name, I hope engender such a generous brood, That the unborn shall know how I have lived, And this no doubt would do my ghost great good, To be by famous Victories revived. I'll Eagle-like so are with Fame's immortal wings, Unless my hie-bent thoughts themselves deceive, That having acted admirable things, I may scorn death, and triumph over the graven. Yet have I not so settled my conceate That all opinions are to be despised, Unfold your judgement touching my estate, Take heed I'll tell you what I have devised. Some Scythian Shepherd in a high disdain, As I have herd rehearsed by true discourses, To plague some of the Medes with endless pain, Did entertain them with Thiestes courses. And to content their more then Tigrish wishes, They with the infants flesh the parents fed, Who not suspecting such polluted dishes, Did in their bowels bury whom they bred. Then after this abominable crime, They come unto my father's famous court, And working on advantage of the time, Did as they pleased of what was passed report. They showed what served to help, and hid the rest, While pity pleaded for afflictions partly, He noble-minded favouring the distressed, Was won to them by this Sinonick art. Then Ciaxare Monarch of the Medes, To prosecute those fugitives to death, In indignation of my father's deeds, Did boast them both with all the words of wrath. My father thinking that his court should be A sanctuary for all supplicants, Did levy men, that all the world might see He helped the weak, and scorned the mighties vaunts. Thus mortal wars on every side proclaimed, With mutual damage did continue long, Till both the armies by Bellona tamed, Did irk avenge or to maintain a wrong. It chanced while peace was at the highest dearth, That all their forces furiously did fight, A sudden darkness courtain'd up the earth, And violently dispossessed the light. I think for Phaeton the Sun looked sad, And that the bloody objects that he saw Did wound his memory, with grief gone mad, He from the world his wagon did withdraw. Yet Ignorance the mother of confusion, With wresting nature's course found cause of fears, Which well edged on by wiser men's illusion, Was cause of concord and of truce from tears. Then straight there was a perfect peace begun, And that it might more constantly endure, Astiages the King of Medias son, A marriage with my Sister did procure. A deadly rancour reconciled again, Must sealed with consanguinity remain. He since his father's age-worne course was ended. Hath ruled his people free from blood or strife, Till now a Viper of his loins descended, Would by his ruin make himself a life. I mean by Cyrus base Cambyses brood, Who by a Bitch nursed with the country swains, Degener'd far from any princely blood, The doggish nature of his nurse retains. He come against his Grandfather to field, And unexpected with a mighty pour, Overthrew his forces, forced himself to yield, Who captive kept now waits for death each hour. That you may see now what my interest is, I made recital of this ruthful story, Those circumstances show that shame of his Tends to the derogation of our glory: That any dare presume to trouble thus One whom our kingdoms favour should defend, In strict affinity combined with us, Yet not respected for so great a friend. My joyless soul with this will be rejoiced, While I to war against that rebel go: I hope that both shall know how they have choyc'd, Th'one a kind friend, and th'other a fierce foe. I grant indeed which very few shall know, Though I design but to relieve my friend, My thoughts are aimed (this unto you isle show,) And not without great cause, t'a greater end. You see how Fortune nought but change affects, Some are reproached that others may be praised, And every age brings forth some strange effects, Some must be ruined, others must be raised. I doubt not you have herd who was the first Whom fame for warring with the world revives, Who had of sovereignty so great a thirst, That it could not be quenchd with thousands lives. Was he who first obtained the name of Jove, Who was reputed for his glorious acts, The most imperious of the powers above, That vows and offerings of the world exacts. He all his time could nought but terror breathe, To make the world acquaint with war and dearth, The chiefest sergeants deputed by death, That made the Assyrians sovereigns of the earth. Yet since his course the world's first plague was passed, His successors who many ages reigned, Made shipwreck of their Empire at the last, And by the Medes were thraled, scorned, and disdained. This was the cause of that great kingdoms fallen, A King who could not judge of kingly treasures, With lose of sceptre, honour, life and all, Did buy his base delights and servile pleasures. To that disastered Monarchies decay, Th'aspiring Persians purpose to succeed, But I intend to cross them by the way, And quail their courage ere that they can speed. The Persians once the Lidians force must prove, And, Oh who knows but that it is ordained At the Tribunal of the States above, That I should reign where famous Ninus reigned. This all the host of heaven ofttimes foretells, To this the gods of Greece my mind have moved, And he that in the Arabian desert dwells, By his response this enterprise approved. These flames that burn my breast must once burst out, Your counsel for more quiet minds I leave, And be you still thought wise, so I prove stout, I'll conquer more, or loose the thing I have. WHat needs me more of my mishap to pause? Though I have tasted of afflictions cup, Yet it may be, the gods for a good cause Have cast me down to raise a thousand up. And never let a Monarch after me, Trust in betraying titles glorious bates, Who with such borrowed feathers rashly flee, Fallen melted with the wrath of greater states. Oh had this precious wit enriched my mind, Which by experience I have dearly bought, While fortune was within my court confined, And that I could not think a bitter thought. Then satisfied with Sovereignties erst proved, I had disdained new dangers to embrace, And clothed with majesty, admired and loved, Had lived with pleasure, and had died in peace. Yet it is wonderful in any state, To see a worldling prosper, and not proud; But chiefly we whose Fortune's grow so great, It's hard for us to have our high thoughts bowed. What could the world afford, or man affect, Which did not glad my soul while I was such? Who now am passed the compass of respect, Plagued with prosperity, clogged with too much. Long lulled asleep with scornful Fortune's lies, A slave to pleasure, drowned in base delights, I made a covenant with my wandering eyes, To-have entertained them still with pleasant sights. I held not from my heart none of her wishes, But wallowing in vainglory this world's toy, Still served with dainty, but suspicious dishes, My soul was sick with pleasure, faint for joy. There wanted nothing that might help to ease me, All did divine my will, aim at my though, And strive to do that which they trowed would please me, Which if I but allowed, no more was sought. What ever come of me was held of weight, My words were balanced and my looks were marked, Those whom I graced were had in honour straight, All speeches in my praises were embarked. I in magnificence excelled all Kings, While drowsy in security I slumbered, My coffers still were full of precious things, My treasure infinite could not be numbered. I reared rare buildings all embossed with gold, Made ponds for fish, forests for wild beasts, And with transported fancies uncontrolled, Oft spent the day in sport, the night in feasts. I seemed t'vsurp the pour that erst was Jove's, And of the Elements the course would change, For stately fountains, artificial groves, These were so common, they were not thought strange. With me (what more could any Monarch crave) In all the parts of pomp none could compare, My minions gallant, my counsellors graven, My guards were strong, my concubines were fair: Yea ere my state was cast upon this shelf, I wanted nought that could with seeming merits Breed wonder in the world, pride in ones self, For to puff up the flesh and spoil the spirits. Thus pressing with delight the grapes of pleasure, I quafft with Fortune still sense-pleasing vines, Till drunk with wealth, and riotous out of measure, I carded not to consume all Tmolus mines. Then weary to be well, and tired of rest, Engender discord I occasion sought, Yet for to cloak th'ambition of my breast, Did with devotion long disguise my thought. I send of all the Oracles to inquire, What was to come of this intended war, Who said as seemed to second my desire, That I a mighty Monarchy should mar. Those doubtful words I wresting to my will, In hope t'expugne th'impertous Persians powers, Did ruin quite while all succeeded ill, What many a age had conquered in few hours. And this most wondrous is, because most strange, I who disdained and equal of before, (What cannot Fortune do, being bent to change) Must a Superior now serve, and adore? What eye not fraught with scorn my state surveys? Whom Fates have forced for to o're-liue my shame, And in mine enemies danger for some days, But borrowed with the interest of my fame. Though this sweet gale of life-bestowing winds, Would seem a favour (so it seems to some, Who by the baseness of their muddy minds, Show of th'ignoble multitude they come) I scorn unlike my self for to be seen, Though to my comfort this appeared to tend, As if that all misfortunes passed had been, A Tragic entry to a Comic end. Of all that plague my state the greatest pest It is base life, that faints from earth to sever, And hath in one united all the rest, To make me die each day, and yet die never. Life in my breast no comfort can infuse, And enemies gift could never come for good, It but gives time of misery to muse, And bath my sorrows in a bitter flood. Ah! had my breath evanished with my bliss, And closed the windows that give light to life, I had not apprehended as it is The height of my mishaps that now are rife: While with a thousand sighs I call to mind, The death of Atis and mine own decay, My sprite in such perplexity I find, That to lives passage I would feign make way. But since I see reserved for further spite, I with sad thoughts must burden yet my soul, My memory t'a melancholious spright, Of all my troubles shall present a scroule. Of which while as account I go to cast, Th'enormities still numbering of my fate, I'll while look back upon my pleasures partly, And by them balance my (now) hapless state.