ROXANE

Ah, to what corner rolls my watery sighed? Where it not finds some matter to bemoan: Oh foolish eyes! Why lose you not your light? Since that your treasure is to ruin gone. Once of all Queens I might the fortune scorn, To whom joust love that great man did engage: Whose match in worth the world hath never born, Nor never shall enrich another age. When those perfections while transport my mind Which admiration only does dilate: I'm woe that me the destinies designed, To be the partner of his glorious state. And I repent that to his sighed I passed, Though highly graced on a festival day: A feast that many a time must make me fast, And with slow woe that flying mirth defray. Then if my fortune had not blinded me, But ah! whose judgement had it not bereaved? While the world's Monarch daignd to Like of me, I had th'euent of my high flight conceived. He of the Asian Prince whose state did then decline, Had both the wife and daughters at his will: Whose beauty's glory would have darkened mine, Yet free from snares retainde his fancies still. Then when my father chosen out from the rest, Those virgins all whom Fame affirmed for rare: Though having viewed them all, he loved me best, Then thought most fortunate (if not most fair.) And when his martial nobles were dismayed, That he himself with captives had alide: He by that means (as love had dited) said, Took from the vanquished shame, from victor's pride. Then me as Empress all did entertain, Though his inferior far in all respects: Till I from him by death diuorcde remain, Whom with his son now all the world neglects. Though grief to me scarce liberty affords, Express the passion that oppress my mind: Yet would affection wrestle out some words, To speak of him that all my joys confined. When he had conquered all that could resist, A monarchy not equal with his mind: Still in his haughty course he did insist, And searched out Ocean other world's to find. But when from it his navy was redeemde, He stood in doubt where trophies next to rear: For all the world for him too little seemed, His mind could more conceive than nature bear. Then ah this Emperor purposed was in th'end, At Babylon his glories height to show: Where all the world his coming did attend, As Jove above, he only raignde below. When he drew near that then thrice Monarchs seat, All th'Astrologians by their skill foretold, What dangers there were threatened to his state, The which elsewhere might better be controlled. But he that was not capable of fear, And could not muse of misadventures then: Caused through that town him self in triumph bear, Backed with more kings, than other kings with men. There as a God in all his subjects sights, Which mirth with mourning I must still record: He spent, or lost a time in all delights, That a successful fortune could afford. Till Thessalus, for mischief but reserved, Once to his house invited him to dine: Where false Cassandra at the table served, And as he used, with water mixed his wine. The creatures all esteemed of greatest worth, That either are in earth, the sea, or th'aire: In Persia, Arabia, or the Ind's brought forth, That walk, that swim, that fly, that grow, were there. Then when that reason drunk with pleasure slept, Which all things did abundantly afford: And while that nought save music measure kept, With Ceres, Bacchus only was adored. But when the King beginning was to drink, As strangely moved he thundered forth a groan: And from the table suddenly did shrink, As one whose strength was at and instant gone. Then when he softly was t'a chamber led, That Death a title to his body claimde: The sorrowing soldiers swarmed about his bed, With looks, once fierce, then for compassion framed. But he whom victory had still arrayed, This battle with the rest bent to make even: Did look Like one whom all the world obeyed, And boasted shortly then to take the heaven. Then that he comfort might afflicted bans, He stretched them out to kiss respected parts: More by the Sword than Sceptre honoured hands, On which it seemed they melted all their hearts. Last, unto them those generous words he told, Yet to my life my death does bring no blot: Thus to die young in years, in glory old, Of all our family it is the lot. And since that no more world's now rest t'orecome, It's time to die: I did and Empire found, And lived and raignde; it's done for which I come, Now my great ghost must go beneath the ground. Then having thus discharge all debt of life, He with a countenance constant even in death: As too victorious of that fatal strife, All th'aire perfuming spent th'imperious breath. But when that it once through the camp was known. That from the world that world of worth was gone, What anguish was it cannot well be shown, I had my partly, yet had not all alone. Oh let that day which makes my days all night, Be registered amongst the dismal days: Whose inauspicious and lugubrious light, The world with some disaster still dismays. And Babylon, cursed be thy fatal towers, Once seat of Monarchs, mistress of all earth: But from henceforth a slave to foreign powers, Still burdened be thy bounds with blood and dearth. And could, or durst those traitors be so bold, The glory of the world to undermine: But ah, Madam, Antipater of old, Against your greatness always did repine. And I remember on a time he sent A Messenger, of mind to make you bow: That to your son a letter did present, Full of invectives to discredit you. The king while reading what it did comprise, Did with a scornful smile to Hephestion say: In writing of such things he is not wise, Which straight one mother's tear will wash away. His love towards you no doubt behooved abound (By nature parents of their own are loved) But those towards whom he by no bound was bound, Of his humanity the fruits have proved. His clemency did make his state more sure, Then all the terrors rising from his name: Which while he lived did public love procure, And after death a never dying fame. Unhappy Sisigambis taking heart Of her own natural son, the death survived: And to Alexander did that love impart, The which was endue to Darius while he lived. But when the tidings wounded had her ears, That from the world was robbed that glory of men: Then suddenly dissoulde in floods of tears, She hated life as never spoilde till then. And with her widdow'd-nephew at her feet, That of Hephestion did the death bewail: Her soul amid a sea of woes did fleet, Whose forces as ouer-whelmde began to fail. Then barrde from food she groveling did abide, Till that the course of life t'an end was run: Thus she suruiude her son, yet with him died, In whom she found th'affections of a son. Lo, now of late delivered of a son, I to these captains scarce dare make it known: That else to partly his kingdoms have begun, And might, by killing him, make all their own. Ay me (Madam) this makes me most to pause, That still th'ambition of those great men fear: Lest by pretending but a public cause, They seek themselves authority to bear. Ah, they of my young babe as moved with ruth, Would but be Tutors first, and traitors then: Void of obedience, duty, love, or truth, No dearer things then diadems to men.