The Tragedy of Philotas

CERTAIN SMALL POEMS LATELY PRINTED. With the Tragedy of Philotas.

Written by Samuel Daniel.

Carmen amat, quisquis carmine digna gerit. 

AT LONDON, Printed by G. Eld for Simon Waterson.

1605.

THE TRAGEDY OF PHILOTAS

By Samuel Daniel.

AT LONDON Printed by G. Eld for Simon Waterson and Edward Blount.

1605.

To the Prince.

To you most hopeful Prince, not as you are,

But as you may be, do I give these lines,

That when your judgement shall arrive so far

As t’ overlook th’ intricate designs

Of uncontented man, you may behold

With what encounters greatest fortunes close,

What dangers, what attempts, what manifold

Incumbrances ambition undergoes,

How hardly men digest felicity,

How to th’ intemperate, to the prodigal,

To wantonness, and unto luxury,

Many things want, but to ambition all.

And you shall find the greatest enemy

That man can have in his prosperity.

Here shall you see how men disguise their ends,

And plait bad courses under pleasing shows,

How well presumptions broken ways defends,

Which clear-eyed judgement gravely doth disclose.

Here shall you see how th’ easy multitude

Transported, take the party of distress,

And only out of passion do conclude,

Not out of judgement, of men’s practises,

How powers are thought to wrong, that wrongs debar,

And kings not held in danger, though they are.

These ancient representments of times past

Tell us that men have, do, and always run

The self-same line of action, and do cast

Their course alike, and nothing can be done,

Whilst they, their ends, and nature are the same;

But will be wrought upon the self-same frame.

This benefit, most noble Prince, doth yield

The sure records of books in which we find

The tenure of our state, how it was held

By all our ancestors, and in what kind

We hold the same, and likewise how in the end

This frail possession of felicity

Shall to our late posterity descend

By the same patent of like destiny.

In them we find that nothing can accrue

To man and his condition that is new.

And though you have a swannet  of your own,

Which on the banks of Douen meditates

Sweet notes for you and unto your renown

The glory of his music dedicates,

And in a lofty tune is set to sound

The deep reports of sullen  tragedies;

Yet may this last of me be likewise found

Amongst the vows that others sacrifice

Unto the hope of you, that you one day

May grace this now neglected harmony,

Which set unto your glorious actions, may

Record the same to all posterity.

Though I the remnant of another time

Am never like to see that happiness,

Yet, for the zeal that I have borne to rime,

And to the muses wish that good success

To others travail  that in better place

And better comfort, they may be encheer’d 

Who shall deserve, and who shall have the grace

To have a muse held worthy to be heard.

And know, sweet Prince when you shall come to know

That ’t is not in the power of kings to raise

A spirit for verse that is not born thereto,

Nor are they born in every prince’s days.

For late Eliza’s reign gave birth to more

Then all the kings of England did before.

And it may be the Genius of that time

Would leave to her the glory in that kind,

And that the utmost powers of English rime

Should be within her peaceful reign confined.

For since that time our songs could never thrive,

But laine as if forlorn, though in the prime

Of this new rising season, we did strive

To bring the best we could unto the time.

And I, although among the latter train

And least of those that sung unto this land,

Have borne my part, though in a humble strain,

And pleas’d the gentler that did understand:

And never had my harmless pen at all

Distain’d with any loose immodesty,

Nor ever noted to be toucht with gall,

To aggravate the worst man’s infamy.

But still have done the fairest offices

To virtue and the time, yet naught prevails,

And all our labours are without success,

For either favour or our virtue fails.

And therefore, since I have outliv’d the date

Of former grace, acceptance, and delight,

I would my lines late-born beyond the fate

Of her spent line, had never come to light.

So had I not been tax’d for wishing well,

Nor now mistaken by the censuring stage

Nor, in my fame and reputation fell,

Which I esteem more than what all the age

Or th’ earth can give. But years hath done this wrong,

To make me write too much and live too long.

And yet I grieve for that unfinisht frame,

Which thou dear Muse didst vow to sacrifice

Unto the bed of peace, and in the same

Design our happiness to memorize,

Must, as it is remain, though as it is:

It shall to after times relate my zeal

To kings, and unto right, to quietness,

And to the union of the common-weal.

But this may now seem a superfluous vow,

We have this peace and thou hast sung enough,

And more than will be heard, and then as good

As not to write, as not be understood.

                 Samuel Daniel.

The Argument.

Philotas, the son of Parmenio, was a man of great estimation among the Macedonians, and next unto Alexander held to be the most valiant of the Greeks : patient of travail , exceeding bountiful, and one that loved his men and friends better than any nobleman of the camp; but otherwise noted of vainglory and prodigality, insomuch as his father having notice of his carriage, warned him to make himself less than he was, to avoid the envy of the camp, and the dislike of the King, who grew suspicious of him in respect of the greatness of his father and his own popularity; and by having intelligence of certain vaunts of his used to Antigona, a fair courtesan born in the city of Pidna , with whom being in love, he let fall many brave words and boasts of a soldier, to advance his own actions and his father’s, terming Alexander at every word. The young man, which speeches Antigona revealing to a companion of hers were at length brought to Craterus, who with the woman carried them to Alexander, whereby Philotas lay open to all the advantages that might work his overthrow , and in the end concealing a conspiracy (which was revealed unto him) intended against the king, was thereby suspected to have been a party in the plot; but, brought before Alexander, he so defended himself that he obtained his pardon for that time, supped with the king that night, and yet the next day, notwithstanding, was arraigned  for the same fact, which he stoutly denying was afterward put to torture, and then confest his treason. And indeed, Alexander’s drawing a pedigree from heaven with assuming the Persian magnificence was the cause that withdrew many the hearts of the nobility and people from him, and by the confession of Philotas was that which gave a purpose to him and his father to have subverted the king as soon as he had established Asia, and freed them from other fears, which, being by Hephaestion and Craterus, two the most special counsellors of Alexander, gravely and providently discerned, was prosecuted in that manner as became their nearness and dearness with their lord and master, and fitting to the safety of the state in the case of so great an aspirer; who, no doubt, had he not been prevented (howsoever popularly in the army it might be otherwise deemed) he had turned the course of government upon his father and himself, or else by his embroilments made it a monster of many heads, as it afterwards proved upon the death of Alexander. The Chorus consisting of three Grecians (as of three estates of a kingdom) and one Persian, representing the multitude and body of a people, who, vulgarly, according to their affections, carried rather with compassion on great men’s misfortunes than with the consideration of the cause, frame their imaginations by that square and censure what is done.

The Names of the Actors.

Philotas.          

Chalisthenes.        

Alexander.         

Hephaestion.          

Craterus.          

Thais, a courtesan.    

Antigona , sometimes one of the concubines of Darius.

Attaras.

Sostratus.

Chorus.

Cebalinus.

Polidamas.

Nichomachus.

Metron.

Clitus.

Perdiccas.

Three Grecians and a Persian.            

The Tragedy of Philotas.

[1]

Philotas, Chalisthenes.

PHILOTAS reading his father’s letter.

“Make thy self less Philotas than thou art”.

What means my father thus to write to me?

Less than I am? In what? How can that be?

Must I be then set underneath my heart?

Shall I let go the hold I have of grace,

Gain’d with so hard adventures of my blood,

And suffer others mount into my place,

And from below, look up to where I stood?

Shall I degrade th’ opinion of my worth?

By putting off employment; as undone

In spirit or grace, whilst other men set forth

To get that start of action I have won?

As if such men as I, had any place,

To stay betwixt their ruin and their grace.

Can any go beyond me, but they will

Go over me, and trample on my state,

And make their fortunes good upon my ill,

Whilst fear hath power to wound me worse than hate?

CHALISTHENES

Philotas, you deceive yourself in this,          

Your father meanes not you should yield in place,

But in your popular dependences,

Your entertainments, gifts, and public grace,

That doth in jealous Kings, distaste the peers,

And makes you not the greater but in fears.

PHILOTAS

Alas! What popular dependences

Do I retain? Can I shake off the zeal

Of such as do, out of their kindnesses,

Follow my fortunes in the common-weal?

CHALISTHENES

Indeed, Philotas therein you say true:

They follow do your fortunes, and not you.

PHILOTAS

Yea, but I find their love to me sincere.

CHALISTHENES

Even such as to the wolf the fox doth bear,

That visits him but to partake his pray,

And seeing his hopes deceiv’d, turns to betray.

PHILOTAS

I know they would, if I in danger stood,

Run unto me with hazard of their blood.

CHALISTHENES

Yes, like as men to burning houses run,

Not to lend aide, but to be lookers on.

PHILOTAS

But I with bounty and with gifts have tied

Their hearts so sure, I know they will not slide.

CHALISTHENES

Bounty and gifts lose more than they do find,

Where many look for good, few have their mind,

Each thinks he merits more than that he hath,

And so, gifts laid for love do catch men’s wrath.

PHILOTAS

But many merely out of love attend.

CHALISTHENES

Yea, those that love and have no other end.

Think you that men can love you, when they know

You have them not for friendship, but for show?

And as you are engag’d in your affaires,

And have your ends, think likewise they have theirs.

PHILOTAS

But I do truly from my heart affect

Virtue and worth where I doe find it set.

Besides, my foes doe force me in effect

To make my party of opinion great.

And I must arm me thus against their scorns:

Men must be shod, that go among the thorns.    

CHALISTHENES

Ah, good Philotas, you yourself beguile,

Tis not the way to quench the fire with oil:

The meek and humble lamb with small ado

Sucks his own dam, we see, and others too.

In courts men longest live, and keep their ranks,

By taking injuries, and giving thanks.

PHILOTAS

And is it so? Then never are these hairs

Like to attain that sober hew of grey;

I cannot plaster and disguise m’affaires

In other colours then my heart doth lay.

Nor can I patiently endure this fond

And strange proceeding of authority,

That hath ingrost  up all into their hand

By idolizing  feeble majesty,

And impiously do labour all they can

To make the king forget he is a man.

Whilst they divide the spoils, and pray of power,

And none at all respect the public good:

Those hands that guard and get us what is our,

The soldiery engag’d to vent their blood,

In worse case seem then Pallas old-grown moil

Th’ Athenians fostered at their public cost

For these poor souls consum’d with tedious toile,

Remain neglected, having done their most,

And nothing shall bring home of all these wars,

But empty age and bodies charg’d with scars.

CHALISTHENES

Philotas, all this public care, I fear,

Is but some private touch of your dislike,

Who seeing your own designs not stand to square

With your desires, no other courses like.

The grief you take things are not ordered well,

Is, that you feel yourself, I fear, not well;

But when your fortunes shall stand parallel

With those you envy now, all will be well:

For you great men, I see, are never more,

Your end attain’d, the same you were before.

You with a finger can point out the stains
Of others’ errors now, and now condemn

The train of state, whilst your desire remains

Without. But once got in, you jump with them,

And interleague ye with iniquity,

And with a like neglect do temporize

And only serve your own commodity,

Your fortune then views things with other eyes.

For either greatness doth transform the heart

In t’ other shapes of thoughts, or certainly

This vulgar honesty doth dwell apart

From power and is some private quality.

Or rather those faire parts which we esteem

In such as you, are not the same they seem:

You double with yourselves or else with us.

And therefore now, Philotas, even as good

T’ embrace the times, as swell, and do no good.

PHILOTAS

Alas, Chalisthenes, you have not laid

True level to my nature, but are wide

From what I am within: all you have said

Shall never make me of another side

Then that I am, and I do scorn to climb 

By shaking hands with this unworthy time.

CHALISTHENES

The time, Philotas, then will break thy neck.

PHILOTAS

They dare not, friend, my faith will keep my neck,

My service to the state hath cautioned

So surely for mine honour, as it shall

Make good the place my deeds have purchased

With danger in the love and hearts of all.

CHALISTHENES

Those services will serve as weights to charge

And press you unto death, if your foot fail

Never so little underneath your charge,

And will be deem’d done for your own avail.

And who have spirits to do the greatest good,

May do most hurt if they remain not good.

PHILOTAS

Tush, they cannot want my service in the state.

CHALISTHENES

These times want not men to supply the state.

PHILOTAS

I fear not whilst Parmenio’s forces stand.

CHALISTHENES

Water far off quenches not fire near hand.

You may be fair dispatcht, ere he can hear,

Or if he heard, before he could be here.

And therefore do not build upon such sand,

It will deceive your hopes, when all is done.

For though you were the minion of the land,

If you break out, be sure you are undone.

When running with the current of the state,

Were you the weakest man of men alive,

And in conventions and in counsel sate,

And did but sleep or nod, yet shall you thrive.

These motive spirits are never fit to rise,

And ’t is a danger to be held so wise.

PHILOTAS

What call you running with the state? Shall I

Combine with those that do abuse the state?

Whose want of judgement, wit, and honesty,

I am asham’d to see and seeing hate.

CHALISTHENES

Tush, tush, my Lord think not of what were fit:

The world is govern’d more by form than wit.

He that will fret at lords, and at the rain ,

Is but a fool, and grieves himself in vain,

Cannot you great men suffer others to

Have part in rule, but must have all to do.

Now good my Lord conform you to the rest,

Let not your wings be greater than your nest.

PHILOTAS, solus.

See how these vain discursive book-men talk,

Out of those shadows of their airy powers,

And do not see how much they must defalk 

Of their accounts to make them ’gree with ours.

They little know to what necessities

Our courses stand allied, or how we are

Engag’d in reputation otherwise,

To be ourselves in our particular.

They think we can command our hearts to lie

Out of their place, and still, they preach to us

Pack-bearing patience, that base property,

And silly gift of th’ all enduring ass.

But let them talk their fill, it is but wind,

I must sail by the compass of my mind.

Enters a Messenger.

[MESSENGER]

My lord, the king calls for you, come my Lord away.

PHILOTAS

Well, then I know ther’s some new stratagem

In hand, to be consulted on today,

That I am sent for, with such speed, to him,

Whose youth and fortune cannot brook delay.

But here’s a suiter stands t’ impeach my haste:

I would I had gone up the privy way,

Whereby we escape th’ attending multitude,

Though, I confess that in humanity

’T is better to deny then to delude.

Enters Cebalinus.

[CEBALLINUS]

My Lord Philotas, I am come with news

Of great importance that concerns us all,

And well hath my good fortune met with you,

Who best can hear and best discharge my care.

PHILOTAS

Say what it is and pray-thee friend be brief

CEBALINUS

The case requires your patience, good my lord,

And therefore I must crave your ear a while.

PHILOTAS

I cannot now be long from Alexander.

CEBALINUS

Nor Alexander will be long with us,

Unless you hear, and therefore know, the news

I bring concerns his life, and this it is:

There is one Dymnus here within the camp,

Whose low estate and high affections,

Seem to have thrust him int’ outrageous ways.

This man, affecting one Nichomachus,

A youth, my brother, whom one day h’ allures

Int’ a temple, where being both alone,

He breaks out in this sort: “Nichomacus,

sweet, lovely youth, ah! Should I not impart

To thee the deepest secrets of my heart,

My heart that hath no lock shut against thee,             

Would let it out sometimes unawares of me;

But as it issues from my faithful love,

So close it up in thine, and keep it fast.

Swear to be secret, dear Nichomacus,

Swear by the sacred God-head of this place

To keep my counsel, and I will reveal

A matter of the greatest consequence

That ever man imparted to his friend”.

Youth and desire drawn with a love to know,

Swore to be secret, and to keep it close.

Then Dymnus tells him that within three days

There should b’effected a conspiracy

On Alexander’s person, by his means

And divers more of the nobility,

To free their labours, and redeem them home.

Which when Nichomacus my brother heard:

“Is this your tale?” Saith he, “Oh God forbid

Mine oath should tie my tongue to keep in this!

This ugly sin of treason, which to tell

Mine oath compels me, faith against my faith

Must not be kept. My falsehood here is truth,

And I must tell. Friend or friend not, I’ll tell”.

Dymnus amaz’d, hearing beyond conceit

The self-will’d youth vow to reveal their plot,

Stands staring on him, drawing back his breath,

Or else his breath confounded with his thoughts

Busied with death and horror, could not work,

Not having leisure now to think what was,

But what would be, his fears were run before,

And at misfortune ere  she came to him.

At length yet, when his reason had reduc’d

His flying thoughts back to some certain stand,

Perceiving yet some distance was betwixt

Death and his fears which gave him time to work,

With his returning spirits he drew his sword,

Puts it t’ his own then to my brother’s throat,

Then lays it down, then wrings his hands, then kneels,

Then steadfast looks, then takes him in his arms,

Weeps on his neck, no word, but “Oh wilt thou?

Wilt thou, be the destruction of us all?”

And finding no relenting in the youth,

His miseries grew furious, and again

He takes his sword, and swears to sacrifice

To silence and their cause, his dearest blood.

The boy amaz’d, seeing no other way,

Was faine  to vow, and promise secrecy;

And as if won t’ allow and take that part,

Prays him tell, who were his complies.

Which, though perplext with grief for what was done,

Yet thinking now t’ have gain’d him to his side,

Dymnus replies: “No worse than Loceus,

Demetrius of the privy Chamber, and

Nicanor, Amyntas, and Archelopis,

Drocenus, Aphebetus, Leuculaus,

shall be th’ associates of Nichomacus”.

This when my brother once had understood,

And after much ado had got away,

He comes, and tells me all the whole discourse,

Which here I have related unto you,

And here will I attend t’ avouch the same,

Or bring my brother to confirm as much,

Whom now I left behind, lest the conspirators

Seeing him here unusing  to this place,

Suspecting t’ b’ appeach’d, might shift away.

PHILOTAS

Well fellow, I have heard thy strange report,

And will find time t’ acquaint the King therewith.

[1.2.]

Antigona and Thais.

[ANTIGONA]

What can a free estate afford me more

Than my incaptiv’d fortune doth allow?

Was I belov’d, inrich’d, and grac’d before?

Am I not lov’d, inrich’d, and graced now?

THAIS

Yea, but before thou wert a king’s delight.

ANTIGONA

I might be his, although he was not mine.

THAIS

His greatness made thee greater in men’s sight.

ANTIGONA

More great perhaps without, but not within:

My love was then above me; I am now

Above my love. Darius then had thousands more,

Philotas hath but me as I do know,

Nor none else will he have, and so he swore.

THAIS

Nay, then you may believe him, if he swore.

[Aside] Alas! Poor soul, she never came to know

Her liberty, nor lovers’ perjuries.

ANTIGONA

Stand I not better with a meaner love,

That is alone to me, than with these powers

Who out of all proportion must b’ above

And have us theirs, but they will not be ours.

And Thais, although thou be a Grecian,

And I a Persian, do not envy me,

That I embrace the only gallant man

Persia, or Greece, or all the world can see.

Thou, who art entertein’d and grac’d by all

The flower of honour else, do not despise,

That unto me, poor captive, should befall

So great a grace in such a worthies eyes.

THAIS

Antigona, I envy not thy love,

But think thee blest t’ enjoy him in that sort.

But tell me truly, Didst thou ever prove

Whether he lov’d in earnest or in sport?

ANTIGONA

Thais, let m’ a little glory in my grace,

Out of the passion of the joy I feel,

And tell the’ a secret, but in any case

As y’ are a woman, do not it reveal:

One day, as I was sitting all alone,

In comes Philotas from a victory,

All blood and dust, yet jolly having won

The glory of the day most gallantly,

And warm’d with honour of his good success,

Relates to me the dangers he was in,

Whereat I wondering, blam’d his forwardness.

“Faith wench”, says he, “thus must we fight, toile, win,

To make that young-man proud: thus, is he borne

Upon the wings of our deserts; our blood

Sets him above himself, and makes him scorn

His own, his country, and the authors of his good.

My father was the first that out from Greece

Shew’d him the way of Asia, set him on,

And by his project rais’d the greatest peace

Of this proud work which now he treads upon.

Parmenio without Alexander much hath wrought,

Without Parmenio, Alexander hath done nought.

But let him use his fortune whilst he may,

Times have their change, we must not still be led.

And sweet Antigona thou mayst one day

Yet, bless the hour t’ have know’n Philotas’ bed”;

Wherewith he sweetly kist me. And now deem,

If that so great, so wise, so rare a man

Would, if he held me not in dear esteem,

Have uttred this t’ a captive Persian.

But Thais I may no longer stay, for fear

My lord return, and find me not within,

Whose eyes yet never saw me anywhere

But in his chamber, where I should have been.

And therefore, Thais farewell.

THAIS

Farewell Antigona.

Now have I that which I desired long,

Laid in my lap by this fond woman here,

And meanes t’avenge me of a secret wrong

That doth concern my reputation near.

This gallant man, whom this fool in this wise

Vaunts to be hers, I must confess t’have lov’d,

And us’d all th’ engins of these conquering eyes,

Affections in his hie-built heart t’ have mov’d,

Yet never could, for what my labour seeks

I see is lost upon vain ignorance,

Whilst he that is the glory of the Greeks,

Virtues upholder, honours countenance,

Out of this garnish of his worthy parts

Is fall’n upon this foolish Persian,

To whom his secrets gravely he imparts;

Which she as wisely keep and govern can.

’T is strange to see the humour of these men,

These great aspiring spirits, that should be wise,

We women shall know all, for now and then,

Out of the humour of their jollities,

The smoke of their ambition must have vent,

And out it comes what racks should not reveal:

For this her humour hath so much of wind,

That it will burst itself if too close pent;

And none more fit than us their wisdoms find,

Who will for love or want of wit conceal.

For being the nature of great spirits to love

To be where they may be most eminent.

And rating of themselves so far above

Us in conceit with whom they do frequent,

Imagine how we wonder and esteem

All that they do or say, which makes them strive

To make our admiration more extreme,

Which they suppose they cannot, less they give

Notice of their extreme and highest thoughts,

And then the opinion that we love them too

Begets a confidence of secrecy

Whereby whatever they intend to do

We shall be sure to know it presently.

But faith, I scorn that such a one as she,

A silly wittied wench, should have this grace

To be preferr’d and honor’d before me,

Having but only beauty and a face.

I that was ever courted by the great

And gallant’st peers and princes of the East

Whom Alexander, in the greatest state         

The earth did ever see him, made his guest.

There where this tongue obtained for her merit

Eternity of fame, there where these hands

Did write in fire the glory of my spirit,

And set a trophy that for ever stands.

Thais action with the Grecian acts shall be

Inregist’red alike. Thais, she that fir’d

The stateliest palace th’ earth did ever see,

Darius house that to the clouds aspir’d,

She is put back behind Antigona.

  But soon Philotas shall his error see,

Who thinks that beauty best men’s passions fits,

For that they use our bodies, not our wits.

And unto Craterus will I presently

And him acquaint with all this whole discourse,

Who, I am sure, will take it well of us:

For these great minions who with envious eye

Look on each other’s greatness, will be glad,

In such a case of this importance,

To have th’ advantage that may here be had.

CHORUS

We as the Chorus of the vulgar, stand

Spectators here, to see these great men play

Their parts both of obedience and command,

And censure all they do, and all they say.

For though we be esteem’d but ignorant,

Yet are we capable of truth, and know

Where they do well, and where their actions want

The grace that makes them prove the best in show.

And though we know not what they do within,

Where they attire their mysteries of State,

Yet know we by th’ events, what plots have been,

And how they all without do personate.

We see who well a meaner part became,             

Fail in a greater and disgrace the same.

We see some worthy of advancement deem’d,

Save when they have it, some again have got

Good reputation, and been well esteem’d

In place of greatness, which before were not.

We see affliction act a better scene

Than prosperous fortune which hath marr’d it clean.

We see that all which we have prais’d in some,

Have only been their fortune, not desert:

Some wars have grac’d, whom peace doth ill become,

And lustful ease hath blemisht all their part.

We see Philotas acts his goodness ill,

And makes his passions to report of him

Worse than he is, and we do fear he will

Bring his free nature to b’ entrapt by them.

For sure there is some engine closely laid

Against his grace and greatness with the king

And that unless his humours prove more staid,

We soon shall see his utter ruining.

And his affliction our compassion draws,

Which still looks on men’s fortunes, not the cause.

[2.1.]

Alexander, Hephaestion, Craterus.

ALEXANDER

Hephaestion, thou dost Alexander love,

Craterus, thou the king, yet both you meet

In one self-point of loyalty and love,

And both I find like careful, like discreet.

Therefore, my faithfull’st counsellors, to you

I must a weighty accident impart,

Which lies so heavy as I tell you true

I find the burden much t’ oppress my heart.

Ingratitude and stubborn carriage

In one of whom my love deserv’d respect,

Is that which moves my passion into rage,

And is a thing I ought not to neglect.

You see how I Philotas raised have

Above his rank, his peers, beyond his term,

You see the place, the offices I gave,

As th’ earnest of my love to bind his firm.

But all he, deeming rather his desarts 

Than the effects of my grace anyway,

Begins to play most peremptory parts,

As fitter to control than to obey.

And I have been inform’d, he fosters too

The faction of that home-bent cowardice,

That would run back from glory, and undo

All the whole wonder of our enterprise;

And one day to our self presumes to write,

(Seeming our stile and title to obraid ,

Which th’ oracles themselves held requisite,

And which not I, but men on me have laid)

And said he pitied those who under him should live,

Who held himself the son of Jupiter.

Alas good man, as though what breath could give,

Could make mine own thoughts other than they are

I that am arbiter betwixt my heart

And their opinion, know how it stands within,

And find that my infirmities take part

Of that same frailty other men live in.

And yet, what if I were dispos’d to wink

At th’ entertain’d opinion spread so far,

And rather was content the world should think

Us other than we are, than what we are.

In doing which, I know I am not gone

Beyond example, seeing that majesty

Needs all the props of admiration

That may be got, to bear it up on high;

And much more mine, which but ev’n now begun

By miracles of fortune, and our worth,

Needs all the complements to rest upon

That rev’rence and opinion can bring forth,

Which this wise man conceives not, and yet takes

Upon him to instruct us what to do.

But these are but the flourishes he makes

Of greater malice he is bent unto,

For sure, methinks, I view within his face

The map of change and innovation:

I see his pride contented with no place,

Unless it be the throne I sit upon.

Hephaestion

Had I not heard this from your sacred tongue,

Dear sovereign, I would never have believed

Philotas folly would have done that wrong

T’ his own worth and th’ honours he received:

And yet me thought, of late, his carriage

In such exceeding pomp and gallantry,

And such a world of followers, did presage

That he affected popularity,

Especially, since for his service done

He was adjudg’d to have the second place

In honour with Antigona: which won

To some th’ opinion to be high in grace;

Then his last action, leading the right wing,

And th’ overthrow he gave, might hap enlarge

Th’ opinion of himself, considering

Th’ special grace and honour of his charge,

Whereby perhaps in rating his own worth,

His pride might under-value that great grace

From whence it grew, and that which put him forth,

And made his fortune suiting to the place.

But yet I think he is not so unwise,

Although his fortune, youth, and jollity

Makes him thus mad as he will enterprise,

Ought against course, his faith, and loyalty.

And therefore, if your Grace did but withdraw

Those beams of favour, which do daze his wits,

He would be soon reduc’d t’ his rank of aw ,

And know himself, and bear him as befits.

ALEXANDER

Withdraw our Grace? And how can that be done,

Without some sullivation  to ensue?  

Can he be safe brought in, being so far gone?

I hold it not. Say Craterus, what think you?

CRATERUS

Sovereign, I know the man: I find his spirit

And malice shall not make me, I protest,  

Speak other than I know his pride doth merit.

And what I speak is for you interest,

Which long ere this I would have uttered,

But that I fear’d your Majesty would take

That from some private grudge it rather bred

Than out of care for your dear sister’s sake.

Or rather, that I sought to cross your Grace,

Or to confine your favour within bounds.

And finding him to hold so high a place

In that divine conceit which ours confounds,

I thought the safest way to let it rest,

In hope that time some passage open would

To let in those clear look into that breast

That doth but malice and confusion hold.

And now I see you have diseem’d the man

Whom, I protest, I hold most dangerous,

And that you ought, with all the speed you can,

Work to repress a spirit so mutinous.

For ev’n already he is swollen so high,

That his affections overflow the brim

Of his own powers, not able to deny

Passage unto the thoughts that govern him:

For but ev’n now I heard a strange report,

Of speeches he should use t’ his courtesan,

Vanting  that he had done, and in what sort

He labour’d to advance that proud young man

(So terming of your sacred Majesty)

With other such extravagant discourse,

Whereof we shall attain more certainty

(I doubt not) shortly and descry his course.         

Meanwhile, about your person, I advise,

Your Grace should call a more sufficient guard,

And on his actions set such wary eyes

As may thereof take special good regard;

And note what persons chiefly he frequents,

And who to him have the most free access,

How he bestows his time, where he presents

The large revenue of his bounteousness.

And for his wench that lies betwixt his arms,

And knows his heart, I will about with her,

She shale be wrought t’ apply her usual charms,

And I will make her my discoverer.

ALEXANDER

This counsel, Craterus, we do well allow,

And give thee many thanks for thy great care;

But yet we must bear fair, lest he should know

That we suspect what his affections are.

For that you see he holds a side of power,

Which might perhaps call up some mutiny.

His father, old Parmenio, at this hour

Rules Media  with no lesser powers than I;

Himself, you see, gallantly followed,

Holds next to us a special government;

Caenus, that with his sister married,

Hath under him again commandment;

Amintas and Symanus, his dear friends,

With both their honourable offices;

And then the private train that on them tends

With all particular dependences,

Are motives to advise us how to deal.

CRATERUS

Your Grace says true, but yet these clouds of smoke

Vanish before the sun of that respect    

Whereon men’s long-injur’d affections look

With such a native zeal, and so affect,

As that the vain and shallow practises

Of no such giddy traitor (if the thing

Be took in time with due advisedness)

Shall the least show of any feeling bring.

ALEXANDER

Well, then to thee, dear Craterus, I refer

Th’ special care of this great business.

[2.2.]

Philotas, Ceballinus, Servus.

CEBALLINUS

My lord, I here have long attendance made,

Expecting to be call’d t’ avouch my news.

PHILOTAS  

In troth, my friend, I have not found the king

At any leisure yet to hear the same.

CEBALLINUS

No, not at leisure to prevent his death?

And is the matter of no more import?

I’ll try another. Yet me thinks such men

As are the eyes and ears of Princes, should

Not weigh so light such an intelligence.

SERVUS

My lord, the sum you willed me to give

The captain that did visit you today,

To tell you plain, your coffers yield it not.

PHILOTAS

How if they yield it not? Have I not then

Apparel, plate, jewels? Why sell them,

And go your way, dispatch, and give it him.

Me thinks I find the king much chang’d of late,

And unto me his graces not so great :

Although they seem in show all of one rate,

Yet by the touch, I find them counterfeit.

For when I speak, although I have his ear

Yet do I see his mind is other where.

And when he speaks to me I see he strives

To give a colour unto what is not,

For he must think that we, whose states, whose lives

Depend upon his grace, learn not by rote

T’ observe his actions, and to know his trim,

And though indeed princes be manifold,

Yet have they still such eyes to wait on them,

As are too piercing, that they can behold

And penetrate the inwards of the heart,

That no device can set so close a door

Betwixt their shows and thoughts, but that theirs are

Of shadowing it, makes it appear the more.

But many, malicing  my state of grace,

I know do work with all the power they have,

Upon that easy nature, to displace

My fortunes, and my actions to deprave.

And though I know they seek t’ enclose him in,

And fain would lock him up and chamber him,

Yet will I never stoop, and seek to win

My way by them, that came not in by them;

And scorn to stand on any other feet

Than these of mine own worth; and what my plain

And open actions cannot fairly get,

Baseness and smoothing them, shall never gain.

And yet, I know, my presence and access

Clears all these mists which they have rais’d before,

Though, with my back, straight turns that happiness,

And they again blow up as much or more.

Thus do we roll the stone of our own toile,

And men suppose our hell, a heaven the while.

[2.3.]

Craterus, Antigona.

CRATERUS

Antigona, there is no remedy,

You needs must justify the speech you held

With Thais, who will your conference verify,

And therefore now it cannot be conceal’d.

ANTIGONA

Oh, my good lord, I pray you urge me not!

Thais only of a cunning envious wit,

Scorning a stranger, should have such a lot,

Hath out of her invention forged it.    

CRATERUS

Why then, shall racks and tortures force thee show

Both this and other matters which we know?

Think therefore, if ’t were not a wiser part

T’ accept offers , rewards, preferment, grace,

And being perhaps, so beauteous as thou art,

Of faire election for a nearer place,

To tell the truth, than to be obstinate,

And fall with the misfortune of a man,

Who, in his dangerous and concussed state,

No good to thee but ruin render can.

Resolute thee of this choice, and let me know

Thy mind at full, at my returning back.

ANTIGONA

What shall I do, shall I betray my love,

Or die disgrac’d? What, do I make a doubt?

Betray my love! Oh heavenly powers above

Forbid that such a thought should issue out

Of this confused breast! Nay rather first

Let tortures, death and horror do their worst

But out alas, this inconsiderate tongue,

Without my heart’ s consent and privity,

Hath done already this unwilling wrong,

And now it is no wisdom to deny.

No wisdom to deny! Yes, yes, that tongue

That thus hath been the traitor to my heart,

Shall either powerfully redeem that wrong,

Or never more shall words of breath impart.

Yet, what can my denial profit him,

Whom they perhaps, whether I tell or not,

Are purpos’d, upon matters know’n to them,

To ruinate on some discovered plot?

Let them do what they will. Let not thy heart

Seem to be accessary in a thought,

To give the least advantage of thy part,

To have a part of shame in what is wrought.

Oh this were well, if that my dangers could

Redeem his peril, and his grace restore;

For which, I vow, my life I render would,

If this poor life could satisfy therefore.

But ’t is not for thy honour to forsake

Thy love for death, that lov’d thee in this fort.

Alas, what notice will the world take

Of such respects in women of my sort!

This act may yet put on so fair a cote

Upon my soul profession, as it may

Not blush t’ appear with those of cleanest note,

And have as high a place with fame as they.

What do I talk of fame? Do I not see

This faction of my flesh, my fears, my youth

Already entered, and have bent at me,

The joys of life, to batter down my truth?

Oh my subdued thoughts! What have you done?

To let in fear and falsehood to my heart,

Whom though they have surpris’d, they have not won;

For still my love shall hold the dearest part.

CRATERUS

Antigona, what are you yet resolv’d?

ANTIGONA

Resolu’d, my lord, t’ endure all misery.

CRATERUS

And so be sure you shall, if that b’your choice.

ANTIGONA

What will you have me do, my lord, I am

Content to say what you will have me say.

CRATERUS

Then come, go with me to Alexander.

CHORUS

How dost thou wear, and weary out thy days,

Restless ambition never at an end!

Whose travels no Herculean pillar stays,

But still beyond thy rest thy labours tend.

Above good fortune thou thy hopes do’st raise,

Still climbing , and yet never canst ascend:

For when thou hast attain’d unto the top

Of thy desires, thou hast not yet got up,

That height of fortune either is control’d

By some more powerful overlooking eye,

(That doth the fullness of thy grace withhold)

Or counter-checkt with some concurrency,

That it doth cost far more ado to hold

The height attain’d, than was to get so high.

Where stand thou canst not, but with careful toil,

Now loose thy hold without thy utter spoil.

There dost thou struggle with thine own distrust,

And others’ jealousies, their counterplot,

Against some underworking pride, that must

Supplanted be, or else thou standest not.

There wrong is paid with wrong, and he that thrust

Down others, comes himself to have that lot.

The same concussion doth afflict his breast

That others shook, oppression is opprest,

That either happiness dwells not so high,

Or else above, whereto pride cannot rise,

And that we climb but up to misery,

High fortunes are but high calamities.

It is not in that sphere, where peace doth move;

Rest dwell’s below it, happiness above.

For in this height of fortune are inbred

Those thundering fragors  that affright the earth:

From thence have all distemp’ratures their head,

That brings forth desolation, famine, dearth.

There certain order is disordered

And there it is confusion hath her birth.

It is that height of fortune doth undo

Both her own quietness and others too.

[3]

Alexander, Metron, Ceballinus, Craterus, Perdiccas, Hephaestion.

[ALEXANDER]

Come, Metron say, of whom hast thou received

Th’ intelligence of this conspiracy,

Contriv’d against our person, as thou sayst,

By Dymnus and some other of the camp?

Is ’t not some vain report borne without cause,

That envy or imagination draws

From private ends, to breed a public fear,

T’ amuze the world with things that never were?

METRON

Here, may it please your Highness, is the man,

One Ceballinus, that brought me the news.

CEBALLINUS

Oh, Alexander! I have sav’d thy life;

I am the man that have revealed their plot.

ALEXANDER

And how cam’st thou to be inform’d thereof?

CEBALLINUS

By mine own brother, one Nichomacus,

Whom Dymnus, chief of the conspirators,

Acquainted with the whole of their intents.

ALEXANDER

How long since is it, this was told to thee?

CEBALLINUS

About some three days, my sovereign lord.

ALEXANDER

What, three days since! And hast thou so long kept

The thing concealed from us, being of that weight? 

Guard, take and lay him presently in hold.

CEBALLINUS

Oh, may it please your Grace, I did not keep

The thing concealed one hour, but presently

Ran to acquaint Philotas therewithal,

Supposing him a man, so near in place,

Would best respect a case that toucht so near.

And on him have I waited these two days,

Expecting t’ have been brought unto your Grace,

And seeing him weigh it light, pretending that

Your Grace’s leisure serv’d not fit to hear,

I to the master of your armoury

Addrest myself forthwith, to Metron here,

Who, without making any more delay,

Prest in unto your Grace being in your bath,

Locking me up the while in th’ armoury

And all what I could show revealed hath.

ALEXANDER

If this be so then, fellow, I confess,

Thy loyal care of us was more than theirs,

Who had more reason theirs should have been more.

Cause Dymnus to be presently brought forth.

And call Philotas straight, who, now I see,

Hath not deceiv’d me, in deceiving me.

Who would have thought one whom I held so near

Would from my safety have been so far off,

When most it should and ought import his care,

And wherein his allegiance might make proof

Of those effects my favours had deserv’d,

And ought t’ have claim’d more duly at his hands

Than any of the rest? But thus w’ are serv’d,

When private grace out of proportion stands,

And that we call up men from of below,

From th’ element of baser property,

And set them where they may behold and know

The way of might, and work of Majesty;

Where seeing those rays which being sent far off

Reflect a heat of wonder and respect,

To sail near hand, and not to show that proof

(The object only working that effect)

Think seeing themselves (though by our favour) set

Within the self-same orb of rule with us,

Their light would shine alone, if ours were set;

And so presume t’ obscure or shadow us.

But he shall know, although his nearness hath

Not felt our heat, that we can burn him too,

And grace that shines, can kindle unto wrath,

And Alexander and the king are two.

But here they bring us Dymnus, in whose face

I see is guilt, despair, horror and death.

GUARD

Yea, death indeed, for ere he could b’ attach’d

He stabb’d himself so deadly to the heart,

As ‘t is impossible that he should live.

ALEXANDER

Say Dymnus, what have I deserv’d of thee,

That thou should’st think worthier to be thy king,

Philotas, than our self? Hold, hold, he sinks;

Guard keep him up, get him to answer us.

GUARD

H’ hath spoke his last, h’ will never answer more.

ALEXANDER

Sorry I am for that, for now hath death

Shut us clean out from knowing him within,

And lockt up in his breast all th’ others’ hearts.

But yet this deed argues the truth in gross,

Though we be barr’d it in particular.

Philotas, are you come? Look here, this man,

This Ceballinus should have suffred death,

Could it but have been prov’d he had conceal’d

Th’ intended treason from us these two days,

Wherewith, he says, he straight acquainted thee.

Think, the more near thou art about our self,

The greater is the shame of thine offence,

And which had been less foul in him than thee.

PHILOTAS

Renowned prince, for that my heart is clear,

Amazement cannot overcast my face,

And I must boldly with th’ assured cheer

Of my unguilty conscience tell your Grace,

That this offence (thus hap’ning) was not made

By any the least thought of ill in me;

And that the keeping of it unbewrai’d,

Was that I held the rumour vain to be,

Considering some who were accus’d, were known

Your ancient and most loyal servitors,

And such as rather would let out their own

Heart blood, I know, than once in danger yours.

And for me then, upon no certain note.

But out the brabble  of two wanton youths,

T’ have told an idle tale, that would have wrought

In you distrust, and wrong to others truths,

And to no end, but only to have made

Myself a scorn and odious unto all

(For which I rather took the bait was laid,

Than else for any treachery at all).

I must confess, I thought the safest way

To smoother it a while, to th’ end I might,

If such a thing could be, some proofs bewray

That might yield probability of right;

Protesting that mine own unspotted thought

A like belief of others truth did breed,

Judging no impious wretch could have been wrought

T’ imagine such a detestable deed.

And therefore, Oh dread sovereign, do not way

Philotas’ faith by this his oversight,

But by his actions past, and only lay

Error t’ his charge, not malice nor despight.

ALEXANDER

Well, lo , thou hast a favourable judge,

When, though thou hast not power to clear thy blame,

Yet hath he power to pardon thee the same;

Which take not as thy right, but as his grace,

Since here the person alters not the case.

And here, Philotas, I forgive th’ offence,

And to confirm the same, lo here’s my hand.

PHILOTAS  

O sacred hand, the witness of my life!

By thee I hold my safety as secure

As is my conscience free from treachery.

ALEXANDER

Well, go t’ your charge, and look to our affaires,

For we tomorrow purpose to remove.    Exit.

ALEXANDER

In troth I know not what to judge herein,

Me thinks the man seems surely clear in this,

However otherwise his hopes have been

Transported by his unadvisedness:

It cannot be, a guilty conscience should

Put on so sure a brow, or else by art

His looks stand neutral, seeming not to hold

Respondency of int’rest with his heart.

Sure, for my part, he hath dissolv’d the knot

Of my suspicion, with so clear a hand,

As that I think in this (whatever plot

Of mischief it may be) he hath no hand.

CRATERUS

My lord, the greater confidence he shows,

Who is suspected, should be fear’d the more,

For danger from weak natures never grows;

Who must disturb the world, are built therefore.

He more is to be fear’d that nothing fears,

And malice most effects that least appears.

Presumption of men’s power as well may breed

Assuredness, as innocence may;

And mischief seldom but by trust doth speed.

Who kings betray, first their belief betray.

I would your Grace had first conferr’d with us,

Since you would needs such clemency have show’n,

That we might yet but have advis’d you thus,

That he his danger never might have know’n.

  In faults wherein an after-shame will live,

  ’T is better to conceal, than to forgive.

For who are brought unto the block of death,

Think rather on the peril they have past

Than on the grace which hath preserv’d their breath;

And more their suff’rings than their mercy taste:

He now to plot your danger still may live,

But you his guilt not always to forgive.

Know, that a man so swoll’n with discontent,

No grace can cure, nor pardon can restore;

He knows how those who once have mercy spent

Can never hope to have it anymore.

But say, that through remorse he calmer prove,

Will great Parmenio so attended on

With that brave army, fost’red in his love,

Be thankful for this grace you do his son?

Some benefits are odious, so is this,

Where men are still ashamed to confess

To have so done, as to deserve to die;

And ever do desire, that men should gesse 

They rather had receiv’d an injury

Than life; since life they know in such a case

May be restor’d in all, but not in grace.

PERDICCAS

And for my part, my liege, I hold this mind,

That sure, he would not have so much supprest

The notice of a treason in that kind,

Unless he were a party with the rest.

Can it be thought that great Parmenio’s son,

The general commander of the horse,

The minion of the camp, the only one

Of secret counsel, and of free recourse,

Should not in three days space have found the king

At leisure t’ hear three words of that import;

Whilst he himself in idle lavishing

Did thousands spend t’ advance his own report?

CRATERUS

And if he gave no credit to the youth,

Why did he two days space delay him then?

As if he had believ’d it for a truth.

To hinder his address to other men.

If he had held it but a vain conceit,

I pray why had he not dismist him straight?

Men in their private dangers may be stout,

But in th’ occasions and the fears of kings

We ought not to be credulous, but doubt

The intimation of the vainest things.

ALEXANDER

Well, howsoever, we will yet this night

Disport and banquet in unusual wise,

That it may seem, we weigh this practise light,

However heavy, here, within it lies.

Kings may not know distrust, and though they fear

They must not take acquaintance of their fear.

[3.2.]

Antigona, Thais.

[ANTIGONA]

Oh y’ are a secret counsel-keeper, Thais,

In troth I little thought you such a one.

THAIS

And why, Antigona, what have I done?

ANTIGONA

You know full well, your conscience you bewrays .

THAIS

Alas! Good soul, would you have me conceal

That which your self could not but needs reveal?

Think you another can be more to you,

In what concerns them not, than you can be

Whom it imports? Will others hold them true,

When you prove false to your own secrecy?

But yet this is no wonder: for we see

Wiser than we do lay their heads to gage

For riotous expenses of their tongues.

Although it be a property belongs

Especially to us, and every age

Can show strange presidents what we have been

In cases of the greatest plots of men,

And ‘t is the scene on this worlds stage we play,

Whose revolution we with men convert,

And are to act our parts as well as they,

Though commonly the weakest, yet a-part.

For this great motion of a state we see

Doth turn on many wheels, and some, though small,

Do yet the greater move, who in degree

Stir those who likewise turn the great’st of all,

For though we are not wise, we see the wise

By us are made, or make us parties still

In actions of the greatest qualities

That they can manage, be they good or ill.

ANTIGONA

I cannot tell but you have made me do

That which must evermore afflict my heart.

And if this be my woeful part, t’ undo

My dearest love, would I had had no part,

How have I silly woman sifted been,

Examined, tried, flatt’red, terrified,

By Craterus, the cunningest of men,

That never left me till I had descried

Whatever of Philotas I had known!

THAIS

What, is that all? Perhaps I have thereby

Done thee more good than thou canst apprehend.

ANTIGONA

Such good I rather you should get than I,

If that can be a good to accuse my friend.

THAIS

Alas! Thy accusation did but quote

The margin of some text of greater note.

ANTIGONA

But that us more than thou or I can tell.

THAIS

Yes, yes, Antigona, I know it well.

For be thou sure, that always those who seek

T’ attack the lion, so provide, that still

Their toils be such as that he shall not scape

To turn his rage on those that wrought his ill.

Philotas neither was so strong nor high,

But malice overlookt him, and discried 

Where he lay weak, where was his vanity,

And built her counter mounts upon that side.

In such sort, as they would be sure to race

His fortunes with the engines of disgrace.

And now mayst thou, perhaps, come great hereby,

And gracious with his greatest enemy,

For such men think, they have no full success

Unless they likewise gain the mistresses

Of those they master, and succeed the place

And fortunes of their loves with equal grace.

ANTIGONA

Loves! Out alas! Love such a one as he,

That seeks t’ undo my love, and in him me?

THAIS

Tush, love his fortunes, love his state, his place,

Whatever greatness doth, it must have grace.

ANTIGONA

I weigh not greatness, I must please mine eye. 

THAIS

Th’ eye nothing fairer sees than dignity.

ANTIGONA

But what is dignity without our love?

THAIS

If we have that, we cannot want our love.

ANTIGONA

Why that gives but the out-side of delight:

The daytime joy, what comfort hath the night?

THAIS

If power procure not that, what can it do?

ANTIGONA

I know not how that can b’ attain’d unto.

THAIS

Nor will I teach thee, if thou know’st it not:

’t is vain, I see, to learn an Asian wit.   Exit.

ANTIGONA

If this be that great wit, that learned skill,

You Greeks profess, let me be foolish still,

So I be faithful.  And now, being here alone,

Let me record the heavy notes of moan.

[3.3.]

Craterus, Hephaestion, Clitus, &c.

[CRATERUS]

My lords, you see the flexible conceit

Of our endangered sovereign, and you know

How much his peril and Philotas’ pride

Imports the state and us; and therefore now

We either must oppose against deceit,

Or be undone: for now hath time descried

An open passage to his farthest ends

From whence, if negligence now put us back,

Return we never can without our wrack.

And, good my lords, since you conceive as much,

And that we stand alike, make not me prosecute

The cause alone, as if it did but touch

Only myself; and that I did both breed

And urge these doubts out of a private grief.

Indeed, I know, I might with much more ease

Sit still like others and if dangers come,

Might think to shift for one, as well as they:

But yet the faith, the duty, and respect

We owe both to our sovereign and the state,

My lords, I hold, requires another care.

Hephaestion

My lord, assure you we will take a time

To urge a stricter count of Dymnus death.

CRATERUS

My lords, I say, unless this be the time,

You will apply your physique after death.

You see the king invited hath this night

Philotas with the rest, and entertains

Him with as kind a usage to our sight

As ever, and you see the cunning strains

Of sweet insinuation, that are us’d

T’ allure the ear of grace with false reports:

So that all this will come to be excus’d

With one remove, one action quite transports

The king’s affections over to his hopes,

And sets him so beyond the due regard

Of his own safety, as one enterprise

May serve their turn, and may us all surprize.

CLITUS

But now, since things thus of themselves break out        

We have advantage to prevent the worst,

And ev’ry day will yield us more, no doubt;

For they are sav’d that thus are warned first.

CRATERUS

So, my lord Clitus, are they likewise warn’d

T’accelerate their plot, being thus bewraid.

CLITUS

But that they cannot now, it is too late:

For treason taken ere the birth, doth come

Abortive, and her womb is made her tomb.

CRATERUS

You do not know how far it hath put forth

The force of malice, nor how far is spread

Already the contagion of this ill.

CLITUS

Why then there may someone be tortured

Of those whom Ceballinus hath revealed

Whereby the rest may be discovered.

CRATERUS

That one must be Philotas, from whose head

All this corruption flows: take him, take all.

CLITUS

Philotas is not nam’d, and therefore may

Perhaps not be acquainted with this plot.

CRATERUS

That, his concealing the plot bewrays,

And if we do not cast to find him first,

His wit (be sure) hath laid so good a ground,

As he will be the last that will be found.

CLITUS

But if he be not found, then in this case

We do him more, by injuring his Grace.

CRATERUS

If that he be not found t’ have dealt in this,

Yet this will force out some such thoughts of his,

As will undo him, for you seldom see

Such men araign’d, that ever quitted be.

Hephaestion

Well, my lord Craterus, we will move his Grace

(Though it be late) before he takes his rest,

That some course may be taken in this case:

And, God ordain, it may be for the best.

                         Exeunt.

CHORUS

See how these great men cloth their private hate

In those faire colours of the public good,

And to affect their ends, pretend the state,

As if the state by their affections stood.

And arm’d with power and princes’ jealousies,

Will put the least conceit of discontent

Into the greatest rank of treacheries,

That no one action shall seem innocent:

Yea, valour, honour, bounty, shall be made

As accessories unto ends unjust,

And even the service of the state must lade 

The need full’st undertakings with distrust.

So that base vileness, idle luxury

Seem safer far, than to do worthily.

Suspicion full of eyes, and full of ears.

Doth through the tincture of her own conceit

See all things in the colours of her fears,

And truth itself must look like to deceit,

That what way s’ever the suspected take,

Still envy will most cunningly forelay

The ambush of their ruin, or will make

Their humours of themselves to take that way.

But this is still the fate of those that are

By nature or their fortunes eminent.

Who either carried in conceit too far,

Do work their own or others discontent,

Or else are deemed fit to be supprest,

Not for they are, but that they may be, ill,

Since states have ever had far more unrest

By spirits of worth than men of meaner skill;

And find that those do always better prove

Wh’ are equal to employment, not above.

For self-opinion would be seen more wise

Than present counsels, customs, orders, laws;

And to the end to have them otherwise,

The common wealth into combustion draws

As if ordain’d t’ embroil the world with wit,

As well as grossness, to dishonour it.

[4.1.]

Attaras, Sostratus.

SOSTRATUS

Can there be such a sudden change in court

As you report? Is it to be believed

That great Philotas, whom we all beheld

In grace last night, should be arraign’d  today?

ATTARAS

It can be, and it is as I report:

For states of grace are no sure holds in courts.

SOSTRATUS

But yet ’t is strange they should be overthrow’n

Before their certain forfeitures were know’n.

ATTARAS

Tush, it was breeding long, though suddenly

This thunder crack comes but to break out now.

SOSTRATUS

The time I waited, and I waited long,

Until Philotas, with some other lords,

Depart the presence, and as I conceiv’d,

I never saw the King in better mood,

Not yet Philotas ever in more grace.

Can such storms grow, and yet no clouds appear?

ATTARAS

Yea, court storms grow, when skies there seem most clear.

It was about the deepest of the night,  

The blackest hour of darkness and of sleep,

When, with some other lords, comes Craterus,

Falls down before the king, intreats, implores,

Conjures his Grace, as ever he would look

To save his person and the state from spoil,

Now to prevent Philotas’ practises

Whom they had plainly found to be the man

Had plotted the destruction of them all.

The king would fain have put them off to time

And farther day, till better proofs were known,

Which they perceiving, prest him still the more,

And reinforc’d his dangers and their own,

And never left him till they had obtain’d

Commission t’ apprehend Philotas straight.

Now, to make fear look with more hideous face,

Or else, but to beget it out of form,

And careful preparations of distrust

About the palace men in armour watch,

In armour men about the king attend,

All passages and issues were forelaid

With horse, t’ interrupt whatever news

Should hence break out into Parmenio’s camp.

I, with three hundred men in armour charg’d,

Had warrant to attach and to commit

The person of Philotas presently

And coming to his lodging where he lay,

Found him imburied  in the soundest sleep

That ever man could be, where neither noise

Of clatt’ring weapons, or our rushing in

With rude and trampling rumour, could dissolve

The heavy humour of that drowsy brow,

Which held perhaps his senses now more fast,

As loth to leave, because it was the last.

SOSTRATUS

Attaras, what, can treason sleep so sound?

Will that low’d hand of horror that still beats

Upon the guilty conscience of distrust

Permit it t’ have so resolute a rest?

ATTARAS

I cannot tell, but thus we found him there.

Nor could we (I assure you) waken him,

Till thrice I call’d him by his name, and thrice

Had shook him hard; and then at length he wakes,

And looking on me with a settled cheer,

“Dear friend Attaras, what’s the news?” Said he,

“What up so soon, to hasten the remove,

Or rais’d by some alarm of some distrust?”

I told him that the king had some distrust.

“Why, what will Nabarzanes play” Sayth he,

“The villain with the king, as he hath done

Already with his miserable Lord?”

I, seeing he would not or did not understand

His own distress, told him the charge I had:

Wherewith he rose, and rising us’d these words:

“Oh Alexander! Now I see my foes

Have got above thy goodness, and prevail’d

Against my innocence and thy word.”

And as we then inchain’d and fett’red him,

Looking on that base furniture of shame,

“Poor body” Said he “hath so many alarm

Rais’d thee to blood and danger from thy rest,

T’ invest thee with this armour now at last?

Is this the service I am call’d to now?”

But we, that were not to attend his plaints,

Covering his head with a disgraceful weed,

Took and convai’d him suddenly to ward;

From whence he shall be instantly brought forth.

Here to b’ arraign’d before the king, who sits

(According to the Macedonian use)

In cases capital, himself as judge.

SOSTRATUS

Well, then I see, who are so high above,

Are near to lightning, that are near to Jove.

[4.2.]

Alexander, with all his council, the dead body of Dymnus, the revealers of the conspiracy, Philotas.

[ALEXANDER]

The heinous treason of some few had like

T’ have rent me from you, worthy soldiers,

But by the mercy of th’ immortal Gods

I live, and joy your sight, your reverend sight,

Which makes me more t’ abhor those parricides,

Not for mine own respect, but for the wrong

You had received, if their design had stood,

Since I desire but life to do you good.

Bur how will you be mov’d when you shall know

Who were the men that did attempt this shame!

When I shall show that which I grieve to show,

And name such as would God I could not name!

But that the foulness of their practice now

Blots out all memory of what they were:

And though I would suppress them, yet I know

This shame of theirs will never but appear.

Parmenio is the man, a man (you see)

Bound by so many merits both to me

And to my father, and our ancient friend,

A man of years, experience, gravity,

Whose wicked minister Philotas is,

Who here Dimetrius, Luculaus, and

This Dymnus, whose dead body here you see,

With others, hath suborn’d to slaughter me.

And here comes Metron with Nichomacus,

To whom this murd’red wretch at first reveal’d

The project of this whole conspiracy,

T’ avere as much as was disclos’d to him.

Nichomacus! Look here, advise thee well,

What, do’st thou know this man that here lies dead?

NICHOMACUS

My sovereign lord, I know him very well:

It is one Dymnus who did three days since

Bewray to me a treason practised

By him and others, to have slain your Grace.

ALEXANDER

Where or by whom, or when did he report,

This wicked act should be accomplished?

NICHOMACUS

He said, within three days your Majesty

Should be within your chamber murdered

By special men of the nobility

Of whom he many nam’d, and they were these:

Loceus, Demetrius and Archelopis,

Nicanor and Amintas, Luculeus,

Droceus with Aphebetus, and himself.

[METRON] 

Thus much his brother Ceballinus did

Reveal to me from our this youth’ s report.

CEBALLINUS

And so much, with the circumstance of all,

Did I into Philotas intimate.

ALEXANDER

Then, what hath been his mind, who did suppress

The information of so foul a train,      

Yourselves, my worthy soldiers, well may gesse,

Which Dymnus death declares not to be vain.

Poore Ceballinus not a moment stays

To redischarge  himself of such a weight;

Philotas careless, fearless, nothing weighs,

Nor ought reveals. His silence shows deceit,

And tells he was content it should be done,

Which, though he were no party, makes him one.

For he that knew upon what power he stood,

And saw his father’s greatness and his own,

Saw nothing in the way, which now withstood

His vast desires, but only this my crown,

Which in respect that I am issueless,

He thinks the rather case to b’ attain’d.

But yet Philotas is deceived in this,

I have who shall inherit all I gain’d,

In you I have both children, kindred, friends

You are the heirs of all my purchases.

And whilst you live I am not issueless.

And that these are not shadows of my fears,

(For I fear nought but want of enemies)

See what this intercepted letter bears,

And how Parmenio doth his sons advise.

This shows their ends. Hold, read it Craterus.

CRATERUS reads it.

“My sons, first, have a special care unto yourselves,

Then unto those which do depend on you:  

So shall you do what you intend to do”.

ALEXANDER

See but how close he writes, that if these lines

Should come unto his sons, as they are sent,

They might encourage them in their designs;

If enterpriz’d, might mock the ignorant.

But now you see what was the thing was meant,

You see the father’s care, the son’s intent.

And what if he, as a conspirator,

Was not by Dymnus nam’d among the rest?

That shows not his innocence, but his power,

Whom they account too great to be supprest,

And rather will accuse themselves than him:

For that whilst he shall live, there’s hope for them.

And how h’ hath borne himself in private sort,

I will not stand to urge, it’s too well known:

Not what hath been his arrogant report,

T’ imbase my actions, and to brag his own,

Nor how he mockt my letter which I wrote

To shew him of the stile bestow’d on me,

By th’ Oracle of Jove. These things I thought

But weaknesses, and words of vanity

(Yet words that read the ulcers of his heart)

Which I supprest, and never ceast to yield

The chief rewards of worth, and still compart

The best degrees and honours of the field,

In hope to win his love, yet now at length,

There have I danger where I lookt for strength.

I would to God my blood had rather been

Power’d out, the off’ring of an enemy,

Than practis’d to be slied by one of mine,

That one of mine should have this infamy.

Have I been so reserv’d from fears to fall

There where I ought not to have fear’d at all?

Have you so oft advis’d me to regard

The safety which you saw me running from,

When with some hot pursuit I pressed hard

My foes abroad; to perish thus at home?

But now that safety only rests in you,

Which you so oft have wisht me look unto.

And now unto you bosom, must I fly,

Without whose will I will not wish to live

And with your wills I cannot, less I give

Due punishment unto this treachery.

AMINTAS

Attaras, bring the hateful prisoner forth.

This traitor, which hath sought t’ undo us all,

To give us up to slaughter, and to make

Our blood as come, here in this barbarous land.

That none of us should have returned back,

Unto our native country to our wives,

Our aged parents, kindred and our friends.

To make the body of this glorious host

A most deformed trunk without a head,

Without the life or soul to guide the same.

CANUS

O thou base traitor impious parricide,

Who mak’st me loath the blood that matcht with thine;

And if I might but have my will, I vow,

Thou should’st not die by other hand than mine.

ALEXANDER

Fie, Canus, what a barbarous course is this!

He first must to his accusation plead,

And have his trial, form all to our laws,

And let him make the best of his bad cause.

Philotas, here the Macedonians are,

To judge your fact, what language wilt thou use?

PHILOTAS  

The Persian language, if it please your Grace,

For that, beside the Macedonians, here

Are many that will better understand

If I shall use the speech your Grace hath us’d,

Which was, I hold, unto no other end,

But that the most men here might understand.

ALEXANDER

See how his native language he disdains!

But let him speak at large as he desires,

So long as you remember he doth hate,

Besides the speech, our glory and the state.   Exits.

PHILOTAS  

Black are the colours laid upon the crime

Wherewith my faith stands charg’d, my worthy lords,
That as behind in fortune, so in time,

I come too late to clear the same with words:

My condemnation is gone out before

My innocence and my just defence,

And takes up all your hearts, and leaves no door

For mine excuse to have an entrance,

That destitute of all compassion, now,

Betwixt an upright conscience of desert

And an unjust disgrace, I know not how

To satisfy the time, and mine own heart.

Authority looks with so stern an eye

Upon this woeful bar, and must have still

Such an advantage over misery,

As that it will make good all that it will.

He who should only judge my cause, is gone

And why he would not stay, I do not see,

Since when my cause were heard, his power alone

As well might then condemn as set me free.

Nor can I by his absence now be clear’d,

Whose presence hath condemn’d me thus unheard.

And though the grievance of a prisoner’s tongue

May both superfluous and disgraceful seem,

Which doth not sue, but shows the judge his wrong,

Yet pardon me, I must not disesteem

My rightful cause for being despis’d, nor must

Forsake myself, though I am left of all.

Fear cannot make my innocence unjust

Unto itself, to give my truth the fall.

And I had rather (seeing how my fortune draws)

My words should be deformed than my cause.

I know that nothing is more delicate

Than is the sense and feeling of a state:

The clap, the bruit, the fear but of a hurt

In kings behalfs, thrusts with that violence

The subjects will, to prosecute report,

As they condemn ere they discern th’ offence.

Hephaestion

Philotas, you deceive yourself in this,

That think to win compassion and belief

B’ impugning justice, and to make men gesse

We do you wrong out of our heat of grief,

Or that our place or passion did lay more

On your misfortune, than your one desert,

Or have not well discern’d your fact before,

Or would without due proofs your state subvert.

These are the usual themes of traitors’ tongues,

Who practise mischiefs and complain of wrongs.

Your treasons are too manifestly known,

To mask in other livery than their own.

CRATERUS

Think not, that we are set to charge you here

With bare suspicions, but with open fact.

And with a treason that appears as clear

As is the sun and known to be your act.

PHILOTAS  

What is this treason? Who accuses me?

CRATERUS

The process of the whole conspiracy.

PHILOTAS   

But where’s the men that names me to be one?

CRATERUS

Here, this dead traitor shows you to be one.

PHILOTAS  

How can he, dead, accuse me of the same,

Whom, living, he nor did, nor yet could name?

CRATERUS

But we can other testimony show,

F

rom those who were your chiefest  complices .

PHILOTAS  

I am not to be adjudg’d in law, you know,           

By testimony, but by witnesses. 

Let them be here produc’d unto my face,

That can avouch m’ a party in this case.

My lords and fellow soldiers, if of those

Whom Dymnus nominated, any one

Out of his tortures will a word disclose

To show I was a party, I have done.

Think not so great a number ever will

Endure their torments, and themselves accuse,

And leave me out; since men in such a case, still

Will rather slander others than excuse.

Calamity malignant is, and he

That suffers justly for his guiltiness

Eases his own affliction but to see

Others tormented in the same distress.

And yet I fear not whatsoever they

By racks and tortures can be forst  to say.

Had I been one, would Dymnus have conceal’d

My name, being held to be the principal?

Would he not for his glory have reveal’d

The best to him, to whom he must tell all?

Nay, if he falsely then had nam’d me one,

To grace himself, must I of force be one?

Alas, if Ceballinus had not come to me,

And given me note of this conspiracy,

I had not stood here now, but been as free

From question, as I am from treachery:

That is the only cloud that thundereth

On my disgrace. Which had I deemed true,

Or could but have divin’d of Dymnus death,

Philotas had, my lords, sat there with you.

My fault was to have been too credulous:

Wherein I show’d my weakness, I confess. 

CRATERUS

Philotas, what, a monarch, and confess

Your imperfections, and your weakness?

PHILOTAS  

Oh Craterus, do not insult upon calamity,

It is a barbarous grossness to lay on

The weight of scorn where heavy misery

Too much already weighs men’s fortunes down.

For if the cause be ill I undergo,

The law, and not reproach, must make it so.

CANUS

There’s no reproach can ever be too much

To lay on traitors whose deserts are such.

PHILOTAS  

Men use the most reproaches, where they fear

The cause will better prove than they desire.

CANUS

But sir, a traitor’s cause that is so clear

As this of yours, will never need that fear.

PHILOTAS  

I am no traitor, but suspected one

For not believing a conspiracy,

And mere suspect, by law, condemneth none:

They are approved facts for which men die.

CRATERUS

The law, in treasons, doth the will correct

With like severeness as it doth th’ effect:

Th’ affection is the essence of th’ offence,

The execution only but the accidence,

To have but will’d it is to have done the same.

PHILOTAS  

I did not err in will, but in belief:

And if that be a traitor, then am I the chief.

CRATERUS

Yea, but your will made your belief consent 

To hide the practice till th’ accomplishment.

PHILOTAS  

Belief turns not by motions of our will,

And it was but the event that made that ill.

Some facts men may excuse, though not defend,

Where will and fortune have a divers end.

Th’ example of my father made me fear

To be too forward to relate things heard,

Who writing to the king, wisht him forbear

The potion his physician had prepar’d:

For that he heard Darius tempted had

His faith, with many talents, to be untrue,

And yet his drugs in th’ end not proving bad,

Did make my father’s care seem more than due.

For oft, by an untimely diligence,

A busy faith may give a prince offence.           

So that, what shall we do? If we reveal

We are despis’d; suspected of conceal,

And as for this, wherever now thou be,

Oh Alexander, thou hast pardon’d me:

Thou hast already given me thy hand,

The earnest of thy reconciled heart.

And therefore now oh let thy goodness stand

Unto thy word, and be thou as thou were.

If thou believ’d me then I am absolu’d.

If pardon’d me these fetters are dissolv’d.

What have I else deserv’d since yester night

When at thy table I such grace did find?

What heinous crime hath since been brought to light,

To wrong my faith, and to divert thy mind?

That from a restful, quiet, most profound

Sleeping, in my misfortunes made secure

Both by thy hand and by a conscience sound,

I must be wak’t for gyues , for robes impure?

For all disgrace that on me wrath could lay,

And see the worst of shame, ere I saw day,

When I least thought that others’ cruelty

Should have wrought more than thine own clemency?

CRATERUS

Philotas, whatsoever gloss you lay

Upon your rotten cause it is in vain;

Your pride, your carriage, ever did bewray

Your discontent, your malice, and disdain.

You cannot palliate mischief, but it will

Through all the fairest coverings of deceit

Be always seen. We know those streams of ill

Flow’d from that head that fed them with conceit,

You foster malcontent, you entertain

All humours, you all factions must embrace,

You vaunt your own exploits, and you disdain

The king’s proceedings, and his stile disgrace;

You promise mountains, and you draw men on

With hopes of greater good than hath been seen;

You bragg’d of late, that something would be done

Whereby your concubine should be a queen.

And now we see the thing that should be done;

But, God be prais’d, we see you first undone.

PHILOTAS  

Ah, do not make my nature if it had

So pliable a stern of disposition,

To turn to every kindness to be bad

For doing good to men of all condition.

Make not your charity to interpret all

Is done for favour, to be done for show,

And that we, in our bounties prodigal,

Upon our ends, not on men’s needs bestow.

Let not my one day’s error make you tell,

That all my lifetime I did never well,

And that because this fallen out to be ill,

That what I did, did tend unto this ill.

It is unjust to join t’ a present fact

More of time past, than it hath ever had

Before to do withal, as if it lackt

Sufficient matter else to make it bad.

I do confess indeed I wrote something

Against this title of the son of Jove,

And that not of the king, but to the king

I freely us’d these words out of my love,

And thereby hath that dangerous liberty

Of speaking truth, with trust on former grace, 

Betrai’d my meaning unto enmity,

And draw’n an argument of my disgrace:

So that I see, though I spake what I ought,

It was not in that manner as I ought.

And God forbid, that ever soldiers’ words

Should be made liable unto misdeeds,

When fainting in their march, tir’d in the fight,

Sick in their tent, stopping their wounds that bleed,

Or haut and jolly after conquest got,

They shall out of their heat use words unkind;

Their deeds deserve, to have them rather thought

The passion of the season, than their mind:

For soldiers’ joy, or wrath, is measureless,

Rapt with an instant motion, and we blame,

We hate, we praise, we pity in excess,

According as our present passions flame.

Sometimes to pass the ocean we would fain,

Sometimes to other worlds, and sometimes slack

And idle, with our conquests, entertain

A sullen humour of returning back.

All which conceits one trumpet’s sound doth end,

And each man running to his rank, doth lose

What in our tents dislike us, and we spend

All that conceived wrath upon our foes.

And words, if they proceed of levity,

Are to be scorn’d; of madness, pitied;

If out of malice or of injury,

To be remiss’d or unacknowledged:

For of themselves, they vanish by disdain,

But if pursued, they will be thought not vain.

CRATERUS

But words, according to the person way,

If his designs are heinous, so are they:

They are the tinder of sedition still,

Wherewith you kindle fires inflame men’s will.

PHILOTAS  

Craterus, you have th’ advantage of the day,

The law is yours, to say what you will say.

And yet doth all your gloss but bear the sense

Only of my misfortune, not offence.

Had I pretended mischief to the king.

Could not I have affected it without

Dymnus? Did not my free access bring

Continual meanes t’ have brought the same about?

Was not I, since I heard the thing descried,

Alone, and arm’d, in private with his Grace?

What hind’red me, that then I had not tried

T’ have done that mischief, having time and place?

CRATERUS

Philotas, even the Providence above,

Protectress of the sacred state of kings,

That never suffers treachery to have

Good counsel, never in this case but brings

Confusion to the actors, did undo

Your hearts in what you went about to do.

PHILOTAS  

But yet despair, we see, doth thrust men on,

Seeing no way else, t’ undo ere be undone.

CRATERUS

That same despair doth likewise let men fall

In that amaze, they can do nought at all, 

PHILOTAS  

Well, well, my lords, my service hath made known

The faith I owe my sovereign and the state,

Philotas’ forwardness hath ever shown

Unto all nations, at how high a rate

I priz’d my king, and at how low my blood,

To do him honour and my country good.  

Hephaestion

We blame not what y’ have been, but what you are:

We accuse not here your valour, but your fact,

Not to have been a leader in the war,

But an ill subject in a wicked act.

Although we know, thrust rather with the love

Of your own glory, than with duty lead,

You have done much; yet all your courses prove

You tide still your achievements to the head

Of your own honour, when it had been meet

You had them laid down at your sovereign’s feet.

God gives to kings the honour to command,

To subjects all their glory to obey,

Who ought in time of war as rampires  stand,

In peace as th’ ornaments of state array.

The king hath recompens’d your services

With better love than you shew thankfulness.

By grace he made you greater than you were

By nature, you receiv’d that which he was not tied

To give to you: his gift was far more dear

Than all you did, in making you emploid.

But say your service hath deserv’d it all,

This one offence hath made it odious all.

And therefore here in vain you use that mean,

To plead for life, which you have cancell’d clean.          

PHILOTAS

My lord, you far mistake me, if you deem

I plead for life, that poor weak blast of breath,

From which so oft I ran with light esteem,

And so well have acquainted me with death.

No, no, my lords, it is not that I fear,

It is mine honour that I seek to clear;

And which, if my disgraced cause would let

The language of my heart be understood,

Is all which I have ever sought to get,

And which, oh leave me now, and take my blood.

Let not your envy go beyond the bound

Of what you seek. My life stands in your way,

That is your aim, take it and do not wound

My reputation with that wrong, I pray.

If I must needs be made the sacrifice

Of envy, and that no oblation will

The wrath of kings, but only blood, suffice,

Yet let me have something left that is not ill.

Is there no way to get unto our lives,

But first to have our honour overthrown?

Alas, though grace of kings all greatness gives,

It cannot give us virtue, that’s our own.

Though all be theirs our hearts and hands can do,

Yet that by which we do is only ours.

The trophies that our blood erects unto

Their memory to glorify their powers,

Let them enjoy, yet only to have done

Worthy of grace, let not that be undone,

Let that high swelling liver of their fame

Leave humble streams, that feed them yet their name.

Oh, my dear father, didst thou bring that spirit,

Those hands of valour, that so much have done

In this great work of Asia, this to merit,

By doing worthily, to be undone?

And hast thou made this purchase of thy sword,

To get so great an empire for thy lord,

And so disgrac’d a grave for thee and thine,

T’ extinguish by thy service all thy line?

One of thy sons by being too valorous,

But five days since, yet oh well, lost his breath.

Thy near Nicanor th’ half arch of thy house,

And here now the other at the bar of death,

Stands overcharg’d with wrath in far worse case,

And is to be confounded with disgrace.

Thy self must give th’ acquittance of thy blood,

For others’ debts, to whom thou hast done good,

Which, if they would a little time afford,

Death would have taken it without a sword.

Such the rewards of great employments are,

Hate kills in peace, whom Fortune spares in war.

And this is that high grace of kings we seek,

Whose favour and whose wrath consumes alike.

Hephaestion

Lo here the misery of kings, whose cause

However just it be, however strong,

Yet in respect they may, their greatness draws

The world to think they ever do the wrong.

But this sole fact of yours, you stand upon,

Philotas, shall, beside th’ apparence

Which all the world sees plain, ere we have done,

By your own mouth be made to satisfy

The most stiff partialist that will not see.

PHILOTAS  

My mouth will never prove so false (I trust)

Unto my heart, to shew itself unjust,

And what I here do speak, I know, my lords,

I speak with mine own mouth, but other where

What may be said, I say, may be the words

Not of my breath, but fame that oft doth err.

Let th’ oracle of Ammon be inquir’d

About this fact, who, if it shall be true,

Will never suffer those who have conspir’d

Against Jove’s son t’ escape without their due,

But will reveal the truth. Or if this shall

Not seem convenient, why then lay on all

The tortures that may force a tongue to tell

The secret’st thought that could imagine ill.

BELON

What need we send to know more than we know?

This were to give you time to acquaint your friends

With your estate, till some combustion grow

Within the camp to hasten on your ends,

And that the gold and all the treasury

Committed to your father’s custody

In Medea, now might arm his desp’rat troops

To come upon us, and to cut our throats.

What, shall we ask of Jove, that which he hath

Reveal’d already? But let’s send to give

Thanks, that by him the king hath scap’t the wrath

Of thee, disloyal traitor, and doth live.

GUARD

Let’s tear the wretch in pieces, let us rend

With our own hands the traitorous parricide.

ALEXANDER

Peace Belon, silence loving soldiers!

You see, my lords, out of your judgements grave,

That all excuses sickly colours have,

And he that hath thus false and faithless been

Must find out other gods and other men

Whom to forswear, and whom he may deceive.

No words of his can make us more believe

His impudence, and therefore, seeing tis late,

We, till morning, do dismiss the court.

[5]

Chorus Grecian and Persian.

PERSIAN

Well then, I see there is small difference

Betwixt your state and ours, you civil Greeks.

You great contrivers of free governments,

Whose skill the world from out all countries seeks.

Those whom you call your kings, are but the same

As are our sovereign tyrants of the East,

I see they only differ but in name,

Th’ effects they show, agree, or near at least.

Your great men here, as our great Satraps ,

I see laid prostrate are with basest shame.

Upon the least suspect or jealousies

Your kings conceive, or others envies frame,

Only herein they differ, that your Prince

Proceeds by form of law t’ effect his end;

Our Persian monarch makes his frown convince          

The strongest truth: his sword the process ends

With present death, and makes no more ado,

He never stands to give a gloss unto

His violence, to make it to appear

In other hew that is that it ought to bear,

Wherein plain dealing best his course commends:

For more h’offends who by the law offends.

What need hath Alexander so to strive

By all these shows of form, to find this man

Guilty of treason, when he doth contrive

To have him so adjudg’d? Do what he can,

He must not be acquit, though he be clear,

Th’ offender, not th’ offence, is punisht there.

And what avails the fore-condemn’d to speak?

However strong his cause, his state is weak.

GRECIAN

Ah, but it satisfies the world, and we

Think that well done which done by law we see.

PERSIAN

And yet your law serves but your private ends,

And to the compass of your power extends.

But it is for the majesty of kings,

To sit in judgement thus themselves with you?

GRECIAN

To do men justice is the thing that brings

The greatest majesty on earth to kings.

PERSIAN

That by their subalternate ministers

May be performed as well, and with more grace:

For, to command it to be done, infers

More glory than to do. It doth imbase 

Th’ opinion of a power t’ invulgar so

That sacred presence, which should never go,

Never be seen, but even as gods, below,

Like to our Persian kings, in glorious show;

And who, as stars affixed to their sphere

May not descend to be from what they are.  

GRECIAN

Where kings are so like gods, there subjects are not men.  

PERSIAN

Your king begins this course, and what will you be then?

GRECIAN

Indeed, since prosperous fortune gave the rain

To head strong power and lust, I must confess,

We Grecians have lost deeply by our gain,

And this our greatness makes us much the less

For by th’ accession of these mighty states

Which Alexander wondrously hath got,

He hath forgot himself and us, and rates

His state above mankind, and ours at nought.

This hath thy pomp, oh feeble Asia! Wrought,

Thy base adornings hath transform’d the king

Into that shape of pride, as he is brought

Out of his wits, out of acknowledging

From whence the glory of his greatness springs,

And that it was our swords that wrought these things.

How well were we within the narrow bounds

Of our sufficient yielding Macedon,

Before our kings enlarg’d them with our wounds,

And made these sallies of ambition?

Before they came to give the regal law

To those free States which kept their crowns in aw!

They by these large dominions are made more,

But we become far weaker than before.

What get we now by winning, but wide minds

And weary bodies, with th’ expense of blood?

What should ill do, since happy fortune finds

But misery, and is not good though good?

Action begets still action, and retains

Our hopes beyond our wishes, drawing on

A never-ending circle of our pains,

That makes us not have done, when we have done.

What can give bounds to Alexander’s ends,

Who counts the world but small, that calls him great

And his desires beyond his pray distends,

Like beasts, that murder more than they can eat?

When shall we look his travels will be done,

That tends beyond the ocean and the sun?

What discontentments  will there still arise

In such a camp of kings, to inter-shock

Each others’ greatness? And what mutinies

Will put him from his comforts, and will mock

His hopes, and never suffer him to have

That which he hath of all which Fortune gave?

And from Philotas’ blood (oh worthy man!)

Whose body now rent on the torture lies,

Will flow that vein of fresh conspiracies,

As overflow him will, do what he can,

For cruelty doth not imbetter  men

But them more wary makes than they have been.

PERSIAN

Are not your great men free from tortures then,

Must they be likewise rackt as other men?

GRECIAN

Treason affords a privilege to none,

Who like offends hath punishment all one.

[5.2.]

Polidamas, Sostratus.

[POLIDAMAS]

Friend Sostratus, come! Have you ever know’n

Such a distracted face of court, as now;

Such a distrustful eye, as men are grow’n

To fear themselves and all; and do not know

Where is the side that shakes not; who looks best

In this foul day, th’ oppressor or th’ opprest?

What posting, what dispatches, what advice?

What search, what running, what discoveries?

What rumours, what suggestions, what device?

To clear the king, please people, hold the wise,

Retaine the rude, crush the suspected sort

At unawares, ere they discern th’ are hurt!

So much the fall of such a weighty peer

Doth shake the state, and with him tumble down

All whom his beam of favour did upbear,

All who to rest upon his base were known,

And none, that did but touch upon his love,

Are free from fear to perish with his love.

Myself, whom all the world have known t’embrace

Parmenio in th’ entireness of my heart,

And ever in all battels, every chase

Of danger, fought still next him on that part,

Was seized on this last night, late in my bed,

And brought unto the presence of the king,

To pay I thought the tribute of my head.

But oh, ’t was for a more abhorred thing!

I must redeem my danger with the blood

Of this dear friend, this dear Parmenio’s blood.

His life must pay for mine, these hands must gore

That worthy heart for whom they fought before.

SOSTRATUS

What, hath the king commanded such a deed,

To make the hearts of all his subjects bleed?

Must that old worthy man Parmenio die?

POLIDAMAS

Oh Sostratus! He hath his doom to die,

And we must yield unto necessity

For coming to the King, and there receiv’d,

With vnexpected grace, he thus began:

“Polidamas we both have been deceiv’d

In holding friendship with that faithless man

Thou seest hath fought to out my throat and thine;

And thou must work revenge for thee and me:

And therefore haste to Media speedily,

Take these two letters here, the one from me

Unto my sure and trusty servants there,

The other signed with Philotas’ seal,

As if the same t’ his father written were:

Carrie them both, effect what I have said,

The one will give th’ access, the other aid”.

I took the letters, vow’d t’ effect the same:

And here I go the instrument shame.

SOSTRATUS

But will you charge your honour with this shame?

POLIDAMAS

I must, or be undone with all my name

For I have left all th’ adamantine ties

Of blood and nature, that can hold a heart

Chain’d to the world, my brethren and allies,

The hostages to caution for my part,

And for their lives must I dishonour mine;

Els should the king rather have turn’d this sword

Upon my heart, than forst it impiously

(Having done all faire service to his lord,

Now to be emploi’d in this foul villainy).

Thus must we do who are inthrall’d to kings,

Whether they will just or unlawful things.

But now Parmenio, oh, me thinks I see

Thee walking in th’ artificial grove

Of pleasant Sufis, when I come to thee,

And thou rememb’ring all our ancient love,

Hastes to embrace me, saying: “Oh my friend,

My dear Polidamas, welcome my friend,

Well art thou come, that we may sit and chat

Of all the old adventures we have run.

‘t is long Polidamas since we two met,

How doth my sovereign lord, how doth my son?”

When I vile wretch, whilst m’ answer he attends,

With this hand give the letter, this hand ends

His speaking joy, and stabb’s him to the heart.

And thus, Parmenio thou rewarded art

For all thy service! Thou that didst agree

For Alexander to kill Attalus,

For Alexander, I must now kill thee.

Such are the judgements of the heavenly powers,

We others ruins work, and others ours.

CHORUS [OF] PERSIANS

Why this is right, now Alexander takes

The course of power, this is a Persian trick.

This is our way, here public trial makes

No doubtful noise, but buries clamour quick.

GRECIAN

Indeed now Persia hath no cause to rew ,

For you have us undone, who undid you.

NUNCIUS

This work is done, the sad catastrophe

Of this great act of blood is finisht now,

Philotas ended hath the tragedy.

CHORUS

Now my good friend, I pray thee tell us how.

CHORUS

As willing to relate, as you to hear:

A full-charg’d heart is glad to find an ear!

The council being dismiss’d from hence, and gone,

Still Craterus plies the king, still in his ear,

Still whispering to him privately alone,

Urging (it seem’d) a quick dispatch of fear,

For they who speak but privately to kings,

Do seldom speak the best and fittest things.

Some would have had him forthwith ston’d to death

According to the Macedonian course,

But yet that would not satisfy the breath

Of busy rumour, but would argue force.

There must be some confessions made within,

That must abroad more satisfaction win.

Craterus, with Genus and Hephaestion,

Do mainly urge to have him tortured,

Whereto the king consents, and thereupon

They there are sent to see ’t accomplished.

Ricks, irons, fires, the grisly torturers

Stand hideously prepar’d before his face.

Philotas all unmou’d, unchang’d appears.

As if he would death’ s ugliest brow out-face,

And scorn’d the worst of force, and asks them why

They stai’d to torture the kings enemy?

CHORUS

That part was acted well, God grant we hear

No worse a Scene than this, and all goes clear,

So should worth act, and they who dare to fight

Against corrupted stones, shou’d die upright,

Such hearts kings may dissolve, but not defeat.

A great man where he falls he should lie great,

Whose ruin, like the sacred carcases

Of scatt’red temples which still reverent lie,

And the religious honour them no less

Than if they stood with all their gallantry.

But on with thy report.

NUNCIUS

Straight were hot irons appli’d to sore his flesh,

There wrestling rack his comely body strain,

Then iron whips, and then the rack afresh,

Then fire again, and then the whips again,

Which he endures with so resolv’d a look

As if his mind were of another side

Than of his body, and his sense for look

The part of nature, to be wholly tied

To honour, that he would not once consent

So much as with a sigh t’ his punishment.

CHORUS

Yet doth he like himself, yet all is well,

This argument no tyrant can refel ;

This plea of resolution wins his cause

More right than all, more admiration draws,

For we love nothing more than to renown

Men stoutly miserable, highly down.

NUNCIUS

But now?

CHORUS

We fear that but. Oh! If he ought descend,

Leave here, and let the tragedy there end.

Let not the least act now of his, at last,

Marr all his act of life and glories past.

NUNCIUS

I must tell all, and therefore give me leave.

Swollen with raw tumours, ulcered with the jerks

Of iron whips, that flesh from bone had raz’d.

And no part free from wounds, it erks 

His soul to see the house so foul defaced ,

Wherein his life had dwelt so long time clean,

And therefore craves he, they would now dismiss

His grievous tortures, and he would begin

To open all wherein h’ had done amiss.

Straight were his tortures ceast, and after they

Had let him to recover sense, he said:

“Now Craterus, say what you will have me say”,

Wherewith, as if deluded or delayed,

Craterus in wrath calls presently again

To have the tortures to be reapplied.

When, whatsoever secret of his heart

Which had been fore-conceived but in a thought,

What friend soever had but took his part

In common love, h’ accus’d, and so forgot

Himself, that now he was more forward to

Confess, than they to urge him thereunto.

Whether affliction had his spirits undone,

Or seeing, to hide or utter, was all  one.

Both ways lay death and therefore he would vie

Now to be sure to say enough to die.

And then began his fortunes to deplore,

Humbly besought them whom he scorn’d before

That Alexander (where he stood, behind

A travers , out of sight) was heard to speak:

“I never thought, a man that had a mind

T’ attempt so much, had had a heart so weak!”

There he confest, that on Hegelochus,

When first the king proclaim’d himself Jove’s son,

Incens’d his father’s heart against him thus,

By telling him that now we were undone,

If we endur’d, that he, which did disdain

To have been Philip’s son, should live and reign.

He that about the state of man will strain

His style, and will not be that which we are,

Not only us contemns , but doth disdain

The gods themselves, with whom he would compare.

“We have lost Alexander, lost” (said he)

“The king, and fallen on pride and vanity

And we have made a god of our own blood,

That glorifies himself, neglects our good.

Intolerable is this impious deed

To gods, whom he would match, to men he would exceed.

Thus having overnight Hegelochus

Discours’d, my father sends next day

For me to bear the same and there to us

All he had said to him he made him resay,

Supposing, out of wine, the night before,

He might but idly rave. When he again,

Far more unrag’d, in heat and passion more,

Urg’d us to clear the State of such a stain,

Conjur’d us to redeem the common weal,

And do like men, or else as men conceal.

Parmenio thought, whilst yet Darius stood,

This course was out of season, and thereby

Th’ extinguishing of Alexander’s blood

Would not profit us but th’ enemy.

But he once dead, we seizing th’ others’ powers

Might make all th’ orient and all Asia ours,

That course we like, to that our counsel stands,

Thereto we tide our oaths and gave our hands.

And as for this, he said, for Dymnus plot,

Though he were clear, yet now he clear’d him not.

And yet the force of racks at last could do

So much with him, as he confest that too,

And said, that fearing Bactra would detain

The king too long, be hast’ned on his ends,

Least that his father, Lord of such a train

And such a wealth on whom the whole depends,

Should, being aged, by his death prevent

These his designs and frustrate his intent .           

CHORUS

O would we had not heard this latter jar ,

This all his former strains of worth doth mar.

Before this last his foes his spirit commends,

But now he is unpitied of his friends.

NUNCIUS

Then was Demetrius likewise brought in place,

And put to torture, who demes the deed.

Philotas he avers  it to his face,

Demetrius still denies. Then he espied

A youth, one Calin, that was standing by,

“Calin,” said he, “how long wilt thou abide

Demetrius vainly to avouch a lie?”

The youth, that never had been nam’d before

In all his tortures gave them cause to gesse

Philotas ear’d not now to utter more

Than had been privy to his practises.

And seeing they had as much as they desir’d,

They wish Demetrius ston’d him unto death:

And all whom Dymnus nam’d to have conspir’d,

With grievous tortures now must lose their breath,

And all that were allied which could not fly,

Are in the hands of justice now to die.

CHORUS

What, must the punishment arrive beyond

Th’ offence not with th’ offender make an end?

NUNCIUS

They all must die who may be fear’d in time