Certaine small poems lately printed with the tragedie of Philotas. Written by Samuel Daniel.

ACTVS 4.

SCENA 1.

Attarras. Sostratus.

Sost.

CAn there be such a sudaine change in Court As you report? is it to be belieud That great Philotas whom we all beheld In grace last night should be arraignd to day.

Att.

It can be: and it is as I report For states of grace are no sure holds in courts.

Sost.

But yet tis strange they should be ouerthrowne Before their certaine forseitures were knowen.

Att.

Tush it was breeding long though suddenly This thunder-crack comes but to break out now.

Sost.

The time I wayted and I waited long Vntill Philotas with some other Lords Depart the presence, and as I conceiud, I neuer saw the king in better mood, Nor yet Philotas euer in more grace Can such stormes grow and yet no clouds appeare?

Att.

Yea court stormes grow when skies there seeme most cleare It was about the deepest of the night The blackest howre of darknesse and of sleepe When with some other lords comes Craterus Falles downe before the King, intreats, implores, Coniures his grace as euer he would looke

To saue his person and the state from spoile, Now to preuent Philotas practises. Whom they had plainly found to be the man Had plotted the distruction of them all.

The king would faine haue put them off to time And farther day, till better proofes were knowne Which they perceiuing prest him still the more And reinforc'd his dangers and their owne. And neuer leaft him till they had obtaind Commission t'apprehend Philotas streight.

Now to make feare looke with more hidious fac••, Or els but to beget it out of forme, And carefull preparations of distrust: About the pallace men in armour watch In armour men about the king attend, All passages and issue were forelaid With horse, t'interrupt what euer newes Should hence breake out into Parmenios campe. I with three hundred men in armour chargd Had warrant to attach and to committ The person of Philotas presently: And comming to his lodging where he lay, Found him imburied in the soundest sleepe That euer man could bee. where neither noice Of clattring weapons, or our rushing in With rude and trampling rumour, could dissolue The heauie humour of that drowsie brow Which held perhaps his sences now more fast As loath to leaue because it was the last.

Sost.

Attarras, what can treason sleepe so sound?

Will that lowd hand of Horror that still beats, Vpon the guilty conscience of distrust: Permit it ••'haue so resolute a rest?

Att.

I cannot tell but thus we found him there, Nor could wee I assure you waken him: Till thrice I calld him by his name, and thrice Had shooke him hard, and then at length he wakes, And looking on me with a setled cheere, Deare friend Attarras, what's the newes said hee? What vp so soone to hasten the remoue, Or raisd by some al'arme or some distrust? I told him that the king had some distrust. Why what will Nabarzanes play saith he The villaine with the king; as he hath done Already with his miserable Lord? I seeing he would, or did not vnderstand His owne distreste: told him the charge I had: Wherewith he rose, and rising vsd these words: O Alexander now I see my foes, Haue got aboue thy goodnes, and preuaild: Against my innocency and thy word. And as we then inchain'd and fettred him, Looking on that base furniture of shame, Poore body, said he, hath so many alarme: Raysd thee to bloud and danger from thy rest, T'inuest thee with this armor now at last, Is this the seruice I am cald to now?

But we that were not to attend his plaints, Couering his head with a disgracefull weed: Tooke and conuaid him suddainly to warde,

From whence he shalbe instantly brought forth, Here to b'arraignd before the king, who sits, (According to the Macedonian vse) In cases capitall, himselfe, as Iudge.

Sost.

Well then I see who are so high aboue, Are nere to lightning that are nere to Ioue.

SCENA 2.

Alexander with al his coūcel, the dead body of Dymnus. the reuealers of the conspiracie, Philotas.

THe haynous treason of some few had like, T'haue ••ent me from you worthie soldiers, But by the mercy of th'immortall Gods I liue, and ioy your sight, your reuerend sight, Which makes mee more t'abhore those parracides, Not for mine owne respect, but for the wrong, You had receiued, if their designe had stood. Since I desire but life to do you good.

But how will you be mou'd when you shall know, Who were the men that did attempt this shame: When I shall show that which I grieue to show: And name such as would God I could not name, But that the foulnesse of their practise now: Blots out all memory of what they were And though I would suppresse them, yet I know,

This shame of theirs will neuer but appeare. Parmenio is the man, a man you see Bound by so many merits both to me And to my father, our ancienst frend A man of yeares, experience grauity, Whose wicked minister Philotas is Who here Dimetrius Luculaus, and This Dymnus whose dead body here you see With others hath subornd to slaughter mee.

And, here comes Motron with Nichomacus To whom this murthred wretch at first reueald The proiect of this whole conspiracie T'auere as much as was disclosd to him. Nichomacus looke here aduise thee well, What dost thou know this man that here lies dead?

Nic.

My soueraigne Lord: I know him very well, It is one Dymnus who did three dayes since Bewray to me a treason practised By him and others to haue slaine your grace.

Al.

Where or by whome, or when did he report This wicked act should be accomplished?

Nic.

He said within three dayes your maiesty Should be within your chamber murthered By speciall men of the nobillity Of whom he many namd, and they were these: Loceus, Dimetrius, and Archelopis Nicanor and Amyntas, Luculous Droceus with Aphebaetus and himselfe.

Mot

Thus much his brother Ceballinus did Reueale to me from out this youthes report.

Ceb.

And so much with the circumstance of all Did I vnto Philotas intimate.

Alex.

Then what hath bene his mind, who did sup∣presse The information of so foule a traine Your selues my worthy Soludiers well may gesse, Which Dymnus death declares not to be vaine. Poore Ceballinus not a moment stayes, To redischarge himselfe of such a waight, Philotas careles, fearelesse, nothing weighes Nor ought reueales. His silence shews deceipt, And tels he was content it should be done Which though he were no party makes him one.

For he that knew vpon what powre he stood And saw his fathers greatnes, and his owne Saw nothing in the way which now withstood His vast•• desires, but onely this my crowne. Which in respect that I am issulesse He thinkes the rather easie to b'attaind But yet Philotas is deceiud in this I haue who shall inhe••it all I gaind. In you I haue both children, kindred friends You are the heires of all my purchases, And whilst you liue I am not issuleste.

And that these are not shadowes of my feares, (For I feare nought but want of enemies,) See what this intercepted letter beares, And how Parmenio doth his sonnes aduise: This showes their ends, hold read it Craterus.

Crat.

reads it.

My sonnes, First ha••e a special care vnto your selues Then vnto those which do depend on you.

So Shall you do what you intend to doo.

Alex.

See but how close he writes, that if these lines Should come vnto his sonnes, as they are sent, They might incourage them in their disseignes, If interpris'd, might mock the ignorant But now you see what was the thing was ment, You see the fathers care the sonnes intent.

And what if he as a conspirator, Was not by Dymnus nam'd among the rest: That shewes not his innocencie but his powre, Whom they account too great to be supprest: And rather will accuse themselues then him, For that whilst he shall liue, there's hope for them. And how h'hath borne himselfe in priuate sorte. I will not stand to vrge, it's too well knowne, Nor what hath bene his arrogant reporte: T'imbase my actions, and to bragge his owne. Nor how he mockt my letter which I wrote••: To shew him of the stile bestowd on mee, By th'Oracle of Ioue. these things I thought But weaknesses, and wordes of vanity, (Yet words that read the vlcers of his hart) Which I supprest, and neuer ceast to yeald The cheife rewards of worth and still compart, the best degrees and honors of the field. In hope to win his loue, yet now at length, There haue I danger where I lookt for strength: I would to God my bloud had rather bene Powrd out, the offring of an enemy; Then practizd to be shed by one of mine,

That one of mine should haue this in••amy. Haue I bene so reserud from feares to fall There where I ought not to haue feard at all•• Haue you so oft aduisd me to regard The safety, which you saw mee running from, When with some hote pursute I pressed hard My foes abrode; to perish thus at home?

But now that safty only rests in you Which you so oft haue wisht me looke vnto. And now vnto your bosomes must I fly Without whose will I will not wish to liue: And with your wils I cannot; lesse I giue Due punishment vnto this treachery.

Amyn.

Attarras, bring the hatefull prisoner forth This traitor which hath sought t'vndoo vs all, To giue vs vp to slaughter, and to make Our bloud a skorne, here in a barberous land. That none of vs should haue retourned back, Vnto our natiue country, to our wiues Our aged parents, kindred, and our friends. To make the body of this glorious host A most deformed trunke without a head, Without the life or soule to guide the same

Caenus.

O thou base traitor impious parracide, Who mak'st me loath the bloud that match'd with thine And if I might but haue my will. I vow Thou shouldst not die by other hand then mine.

Alex.

Fie Caenus what a barbarous course is this He first must to his accusation pleade. And haue his triall, formall to our lawes

And let him make the best of his bad cause

Philotas here the Macedonians are To iudge your fact, what language wilt thou vse?

Phi.

The Persian language if it please your grace, For thar beside the Macedonians, here Are many that will better vnderstand, If I shall vse the speach your grace hath vs'd, Which was I hold vnto no other end, But that the most men here might vnderstand.

Al.

See how his natiue language he disdaines, But let him speake at large as he desires, So long as you remember he doth hate Besides the speech our glory and the state.

Exit••

Phi.

Black are the coulours laid vpon the crime, Wherewith my faith stands chargd my worthy lord•••• That as behind in fortune so in time, I come too late to cleere the same with words. My condemnation is gone out before My innocency, and my iust defence: And takes vp all your harts, and leaues no dore For mine excuse to haue an enterance. That destitute of all compassion, now, Betwixt an vp••ight conscience of desart, And an vniust disgrace, I know not how To satisfie the time, and mine owne hart. Authority lookes with so sterne an eye Vpon this wofull Bar, and must haue still Such an aduantage ouer misery As that it will make•• good, all that it will.

He who should onely iudge my cause, is gone,

And why he would not stay, I do not see, Since when my cause were heard his powre alone, As well might then condemne as set me free: Nor can I by his absence now be clear'd Whose presence hath condemn'd me thus vnheard. And though the greeuance of a prisoners tongue, May both superfluous and disgracefull seeme, Which doth not sue, but shewes the iudge his wrong: Yet pardon mee, I must not disesteme My rightfull cause for being dispisd, nor must Forsake my selfe, though I am leaft of all, Feare cannot make my innocence vniust Vnto it selfe, to giue my truth the fall. And I had rather, seeing how my fortune drawes, My words should be deformed then my cause.

I know that nothing is more delicate Then is the sence and feeling of a state: The clappe, the bruit, the feare but of a hurt In kings behalfes, thrusts with that violence The subiects will to prosecute report, As they condemne, ere they discerne th'offence.

Eph.

Philotas you deceiue your self in this That thinke to win compassion, and beliefe B'impugning iustice and to make men gesse We doo you wrong out of our heat of griefe, Or that our place or passions did lay more On your misfortunes, then your owne deseart Or haue not well discernd your fact before, Or would without, due proofes your state subuert,

These are the vsuall theames of traytors tongues

Who practise mischiefs, and complaine of wrongs Your treasons are too manifestly knowne To maske in other liuery then their owne.

Cra.

Thinke not, that we are set to charge you here With bare suspicions but with open fact, And with a treason that appeares as cleare As is the sunne, and knowne to be your act.

Ph.

What is this treason? who accuses mee?

Cra.

The processe of the whole conspiracy.

Ph.

But wher's the man that names me to be one?

Cra.

Here this dead traitor shews you to be one.

Ph.

How can he dead, accuse me of the same Whom liuing he nor did, nor yet could name.

Cra.

But we can other testimonie show From those who were your chiefest complices.

Ph.

I am not to b'adiudgd in law you know By testimony, but by witnesses.* 1.1 Let them be here produc'd vnto my face That can auouch m'a party in this case. My Lords and fellowe soldiers if of those Whom Dymnus nominated, any one Out of his tortures will a word disclose To shew I was a party: I haue done. Thinke not so great a number euer will Endure their torments and themselues accuse And leaue me out. Since men in such case, still Will rather slander others then excuse. Calamity malignant is, and he That suffers iustly for his guiltinesse Eases his owne affliction, but to see

Others' tormented in the same distresse, And yet I feare not whatsoeuer they By rackes and tortures can be forest to say. Had I bene one would Dymnus haue conceald, My name being held to be the principall? would he not for his glory haue reueald The best to him to whom he must tell all? Nay if he falsly then had nam'd me one? To grace himselfe, must I of force be one.

Alas, if Ceb••llinus had not come to me And giuen me note of this conspiracy I had not stood here now but bin 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 haue deuind of Dymnus death Philotas, had, my Lords, sat therewith you. My fault was to haue bene too credulous Wherein I shewd my weaknesse I confesse.

Cra.

Philotas what a monarch and confesse Your imperfections and your weaknes?

Phi.

O Craterus, do not insult vpon calamity, It is a barberous grossnes to lay on The weight of skome where heauy misery To much already waies mens fortunes downe For if the cause be ill I vndergo, The law and not reproch must make it so.

Caen.

Ther's no reproch can euer be too much To lay on traitors, whose desearts are such.

Ph.

Men vse the most reproches where they feare

The cause will better proue then their desire.

Caen.

But sir, a traitors ••ause that is so cleere. As this of yours will neuer need that feare.

Phi.

I ame no traitor but suspected one, For not beleiuing a conspiracie. And mere suspect by law condemneth none, They are approued facts for which men die.

Cra.

The law in treasons doth the will correct. With like seuerenes as it doth th'effect. Th'affection is the essence of th'offence, The execution onely but th'accidence, To haue but will'd it, is t'haue done the same.

Phi.

I did not erre in will, but in beliefe, And if that be a traitor, then am I the cheefe.

Cra.

Yea but your will made your beliefe consent To hide th'practise till th'accomplishment.

Phi.

Beliefe turnes not by motions of our will, And it was but the euent that made that ill. Some facts men may excuse, though not defend, Where will & fortune haue a diuers end. Th'example of my father made me feare, To be too forward to relate things heard. Who writing to the king, wisht him forbeare, The potion his phisition had prepard. For that he heard Darius tempted had, His faith, with many talents, to b'vntrue. And yet his druggs in th'end not prouing bad, Did make my fathers care seeme more then due. For oft by an vntimely dilligence, A busy faith may giue a prince offence.

So that, what shall wee doo? if wee reueale, Wee are dispis'd, suspected if conceale. And as for this where euer now thou bee O Alexander thou hast pardon'd me. Thou hast alreadie giuen me thy hand, The earnest of thy reconciled hart. And therefore now ô let thy goodnes stand, Vnto thy word, and be thou as thou wert. Yf thou beleuidst me then, I am absolud, Yf pardon'd me, these fetters are dissolu'd. What haue I els deseru'd since yester night, When at thy table I such grace did finde, What hainous crime hath since beene brought to light•• To wrong my faith, and to diuert thy mind? That from a restfull 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 crueltie, Should haue wrought more thē thine owne clemency.

Cra.

Philotas whatsoeuer glosse you lay, Vpon your rotten cause, it is in vaine, Your pride, your cariage, euer did bewray. Your discontent, your malice, and disdaine. You cannot palliat mischiefe but it will, Th'row all the fairest couerings of deceipt Be alwaies seene; we know those streames of ill, Flow'd from that head that feed them with conceipt.

You foster malcontents, you intertaine All humors, you all factions must imbrace. Yow vaunt your owne exploites, and you disdaine The kings proceedings, and his stile disgrace. You promise mountaines, and you draw men on, With hopes of greater good then hath bene seene. You braggd of late that something would be donne Whereby your Concubine should be a Queene. And now we see the thing that should be donne. But God be praisd we see you first vndonne.

Ph.

Ah do not make my nature, if it had, So pliable a sterne of disposition, To turne to euery kindnes, to be bad, For doing good to men of all condition. Make not you charitie t'inter prete all Is donne for fauor to be donne for show, And that we in our bounties prodigall. Vpon our ends not on mens needes bestow. Let not my one daies error make you tell, That all my life-time I did neuer well. And that because this falles out to be ill, That what I did, did tend vnto this ill. It is vniust to ioine t'a present fact More of time past then it hath euer had Before to doo with-all, as if it lackt Sufficient matterels to make it bad. •• d••o confesse indeed I wrote somthing. Against this title of the sonne of Ioue, And that not of the king but to the king, I ••reely vs'd these words out of my loue,

And thereby hath that dangerous liberty Of speaking truth, with trust on former grace Betraid my meaning vnto emnity And drawne an argument of my disgrace. So that I see though I spake what I ought, It was not in that maner as I ought.

And God forbid that euer soldiers words Should be made lyable vnto misdeedes, When fainting in their march, tyrd in the fight, Sick in their tent, stopping their wounds that bleedes, Or haut and iolly after conquest gote They shall out of their heate vse words vnkind, Their deeds deserue to haue them rather thought The passion of the season, then their minde. For souldiers ioy, or wrath is measurelesse•• Rapt with an instant motion, and we blame, We hate, we prayse, we pitty in excesse According as our present passions flame. Sometimes to passe the Ocean we would faine Sometimes to other worlds, and sometimes slack And idle, with our conquests, intertaine A sullen humor of returning back. All which conceipts one trumpets sound doth end, And each man running to his rankes doth lose What in our tents dislik•• vs, and we spend All that conceiued wrath vpon our foes. And words, if they proceed of leuity Are to be skornd, of madnesse pittied If out of malice or of iniury To be remiss'd or vnacknowledged:

For of themselues they vanish by disdaine, But if pursude they will be thought not vaine.

Cr••.

But wordes according to the person way, If his designes are hainous so are they, They are the tinder of sedition, still, Wherewith you kindle fiers inflame mens will.

Phi.

Craterus you haue th'aduantage of the day, The law is yours to say what you will say. And yet doth all your Glosse but beare the sence, Onely of my misfortune not offence. Had I pretended mischief to the king, Could not I haue effected it without Dimnus? did not my free accesse bring Continuall meanes t'haue brought the same about? Was not I since I heard the thing discride, Alone, and arm'd in priuate with his grace, What hindred me that then I had not tride T'haue done that mischiefe, hauing time and place?

Cra.

Philotas euen the prouidence aboue. Protectresse of the sacred state of kings, That neuer suffers trecherie to haue Good councell, neuer in this case but bringes Confusion to the actors, did vndo Your harts, in what you went about to do.

Phi.

But yet dispayre we see doth thrust men on Se'ing no way els t'vndoo er be vndon.

Cra.

That same dispaire doth likewise let men fall In that amaze they can do nought at all.

Phi.

Well, well, my Lords my seruice hath made known•• The faith I owe my Soueraigne and the state

Philotas forwardnesse hath euer showne Vnto all nations at how high a rate I prizd my king, and at how low my bloud, To do him honor and my countrie good.

Eph.

We blame not what y'haue bene, but what you are: We accuse not here your valour, but your fact, Not to haue bene a leader in the warre, But an ill subiect, in a wicked act. Although we know thrust rather with the loue Of your owne glory, then with duty lead You haue done much, yet all your courses proue You tide still your a••chieuements to the head Of your owne honor, when it had bin meete, You had them layd, downe at your soueraignes feete. God giues to kings the honor to commaund, To subiects all their glory to obay: Who ought in time of war as rampiers stand, In peace as th'ornaments of state aray. The king hath recompensd your seruices With better loue then you shew thankfulnesse. By grace, he made you greater then you were By nature: you receiu'd that which he was not tide To giue to you: his guift was far more deere Then all you did, in making you imployd. But say your seruice hath deseru'd at all, This one offence hath made it odious all. And therefore here in vaine, you vse that meane To plead for life, which you haue canceald cleane.

Phi.

My lord you far mistake mee if you dee••e I plead for life, that poore weake blast of breath,

From which so oft I ran with light esteeme And so well haue acquainted mee with death, No no, my Lords, it is not that I feare It is mine honor that I seeke to cleare. And which if my disgraced cause would let The language of my hart be vnderstood, Is all which I haue euer sought to get And which (o leaue mee now) and take my bloud. Let not your enuy go beyond the bound Of what you seeke: my life stands in your way That is your ayme, take it and do not wounde My reputation with that wrong I pray. If I must needes be made the sacrifice Of enuy, and that no oblation will The wrath, of Kings but onely bloud suff••ze, Yet let me, haue something left that is not ill. Is there no way to get vnto our liues But first to haue our honour ouerthrowne? Alas though grace of Kings all greatnesse giues It cannot giue vs vertue, that's our owne Though all be theirs our harts and hands can do Yet that by which we doo is onely ours: The trophies that our blood erects vnto Their memory to glorifie their powres Let them inioy: yet onely to haue done Worthy of grace let not that be vndone. Let that high swelling riuer of their fame Leaue humble streames that feed them yet their name

O my deare father didst thou bring that spirit Those hands of vallour that so much haue done.

In this great worke of Asia, this to merit By dooing worthily to be vndone? And hast thou made this purchase of thy sword To get so great an Empire for thy Lord And so disgrac'd a graue for thee and thine, T'extinguish by thy seruice all thy line?

One of thy sonnes by being to valourous But fiue daies since, yet ô well, lost his breath Thy deare Nicanor th'halfe arch of thy house, And here now the other at the barr of death Stands ouerchardgd with wrath in far worse case And is to be confounded with disgrace. Thy selfe must giue th'acquitance of thy blood For others debts to whom thou hast done good. Which if they would a little time afford Death would haue taken it without a sword. Such the rewards of great imployments are Hate kills in peace, whom fortune spares in war. And this is that high grace of Kings we seeke, Whose fauour, and whose wrath consumes a like.

Eph.

Lo here the misery of kings, whose cause How euer iust it be, how euer strong, Yet in respect they may, their greatnesse drawes The world to thinke they euer do the wrong. But this foule fact of yours you stand vpon Philotas shall beside th'apparancy Which all the world sees plaine, ere we haue done By your owne mouth be made to satisfie. The most stiffe par••lalist that will not see.

Phi.

My mouth will neuer proue so false I trust Vnto my hart, to shew it selfe vniust:

And what I here do speake I know my lords I speake with mine owne mouth, but other where What may be said I say, may be the words Not of my breath, but fame that oft doth erre, Let th'oracle of Ammon be inquir••d About this fact, who if it shall be true Will neuer suffer those who haue conspird Against Ioues sonne t'escape without their due; But will reueale the truth, or if this shall Not seeme conuenient: why then lay on all The tortures that may force a tongue to tell, The secret'st thought that could imagin ill.

Bel.

What need we sēd to know more then we know That were to giue you time t'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 fathers custody In Media, now might arme his desp'rat troupes To come vpon vs and to cut our throtes. What shall we aske of Ioue that which he hath Reueald already? but let's send to giue Thanks that by him, the king hath skapt the wrath Of thee disloyall traitor and doth liue.

Guar.

Lets teare the wretch in peeces, let vs rend With our owne hands, the traitrous para••ide.

Alex.

Peace ••elon, silence louing souldiers. You see my lords out of your iudgments grau•• That all excuses sickly colours haue, And he that hath thus false and faithles ben••

Must finde out other gods and other men Whom to forsweare, and whom he may decelue, No words of his can make vs more belieue His impudence, and therefore seeing tis late, We till the morning, do dismisse the court.

Notes

• * 1.1

  No testi∣monijs sīe testibsu.