ALEXANDER

If come to traffic in a servile sort, And Like a Merchant bent but to embrace (All else despised) that which might gains import, Then your opinion purchase might a place: But soon I surfeit of such melting things, And famish but for fame, and Crowns of Kings. If I Parmenio were, so would I too. Save thanks, or praise, no treasure I esteem. What greater glory then to conquer so? "True magnanimity does ravish hearts. "Stout breasts, strong hands (not basely given) prevail. "But who dare disobey when I command? "A gallant mind likes glory more then gain. If I be gular, I seek no more. Peace, peace Parmenio, now thou makest me rage, With those thy words not worthy of our ears; It seems the coldness of declining age Hath killed thy courage with a frost of fears: Did I abandon thee my native soil, And made my Ensigns shadow foreign fields, As feared for danger, or else flying toil, That I should turn whilst yet our foe not yields: Then all my labours, are but lost at last, Which have but bred and appetite of praise, That I might die displeased, the time once passed, When means remained, a state Like Jove's, to raise No, I will reign, and I will reign alone, Disdaining to admit of more Commanders: For (as the Heavens can hold no Sun but one) The Earth cannot contain two Alexanders; The spacious circuit of this peopled Round, Seems not sufficient to confine my thought, And, Oh, would God there could more world's be found, That many might to grace our deeds be brought; Oh! I could wish that Ocean were firm Land, Where none but hideous Giants had retreat, Such as at Phlegra field in strife did stand Against the gods for the etherial seat: These could encourage martial minds to strike, Who when subdued, would yield eternal praise. I conquer men, but many did the Like, And after-ages may my equal raise: But since none such my triumphs are to grace, Such as there are, I'll to subjection bring, And as a pest, I vow to fly all peace, Till all the world adore me for their King: Let them retire in time who danger dread, Yet think on this (whilst glory bent to wed) That you abandoned me in time of needs, And that I stayed to fight when as you fled; Pass home in darkness, servile rest to find, I measure not my courage by my numbers. T'is not enough, that you your self be so, To be the same you should the rest exhort; Is he returned, who was ordained to go And view the captives? what does he report? I pity still, and not insult over such, (Though once mine Enemies) who are humbled so, And lest weak fear oppress their minds too much, To comfort them, straight to their Tent I'll go. I find no fault to see my friend preferred, Even to my self; this is another I. I pray you mother set those plaints apart, They vex me more then stern Bellona's broils. Fair Princess, spare those passionate complaints, Which may augment, but not amend your harms; This voice which with your woe the world acquaints, Does move me more then all the Persians Arms. Take courage (Madam) be afraid of none: That you may hope what help I can afford, I swear by Jove's inviolable Throne, And do protest by my Imperial word; Though for a while barred from your royal seat, You compassed here with troops of strangers stand, Yet shall you still be used as fits your state, And may (as erst in your own Court) command, Though brave it seem in some proud victor's sighed, To plague their captives, and triumph in ill: The larger grow the limits of my might, The more I labour to rest rain my will. What can be feared by them whom I defend? Foes have not power, and who with me remain. They dare not wrong, nor offer to offend The least in rank who does attend your train; If any would impugn what I appoint, Or would in ambush for your honour lie, Or discontent you but in any point, As Alexander lives, that wretch shall die. I labour much to comfort in some measure This grieved Queen, that was a Monarch's choice, Whose woe does make my victory no pleasure, For whilst she mourns, I cannot well rejoice. As if your Sons, command all that is mine, And I will seek to second your desire. Those captived Princesses have pierced my soul, Which even amidst our heaven, have found a hell. What, what. Hephestion, what does thee deceive? Dare folly seek to brag so brave a mind? Dare Cupid enter in and armed Camp, And them who Mars have matched for sport appall? Must his soft seal even through hard metal stamp, And make who conquer men, to women thrall? But yet, in my conceit, I scorn all such, And do disdain to yield my self at all; Yea, in that sort to bow I loath so much, Let rather Mars then Cupid make me fallen: Should I be bound with frail affections chains, As one oblivious of my former fame? No, no, this purpose still my soul retains, To balance nothing with a noble name; Oh! what a great indignity is this? To see a Conqueror to his lust a slave! "Who would the title of true worth were his, "Must vanquish vice, and no base thoughts conceive: "The bravest Trophy ever man obtained "Is that, which over himself, himself hath gained. In this encounter to have had the best, It would content more then a common mind; But since we want the chief, what of the rest? I must in all a satisfaction find; Those Traitors thought to finish thus the war, By giving me their Lord whom they have bound, But I who march with confidence so far Do scorn to built upon so base a ground; To venge my wrongs dare others then design? Since Darius was ordained my prey to be, How durst they but have aimed at ought of mine? His overthrows glory did belong to me. While in himself he only did confide, I by all means did strive to make him bow, But since his hard estate abates that pride, My fury turned is to compassion now; Though he contemned me oft, and did me wrong, Yet am I grieved that he was thus deceived, If but acknowledged once to be more strong, I not his blood, nor yet his kingdom craved; And if those Traitors have not killed him straight, Yet his delivery shall my name renown, I would not loose a Subject of such weight, By which my clemency might be made known. What? all are fled, none have my force withstood? Why, have they set him free, or is he slain? Then is all Asia's expectation passed? Tell on at length the manner of his death. Who could refrain from tears to hear declared The huge mishaps, which all at once did light; Have subjects slain their Prince, whom strangers spared? Us hath he fled, that perish thus he might! I for his fallen am wonderfully sorry, Whom first I forced, but last would have maintained: I envy death, because it robbed the glory Which I (by giving him his life) had gained. Though this your counsel, nor yet his request, Had not the power to penetrate my ear, A generous stomach could not well digest, So great a wrong which courage storms to bear. My sprite (impatient of repose) disdains, That they so long their infamy survive: But I will punish with most grievous pains The monstrous Treason that they did contrive. What? do they think (though backed with numbrous bans) That Bactria is a bulwark for mine Ire? Fly where they list, they cannot escape my hands, My wrath shall follow Like consuming fire. Such damned souls the heaven cannot receive, I'll force Hells dungeons, as Alcides did, And they on earth no bounds but mine can have, I'll search them out though in the centre hid, And when as threatening now I once may strike, Betwixt the bending boughs of some strong tree, To Traitors terrors who intend the Like, They shall by violence dismembered be. Go presently, and every thing prepare, As best becomes the military form.