Classic Poem

A CIVS IIII. Scena I. Attaras, Sostratus .

Sostratus.

C AN there be such a sudden change in Court
As you report? Is it to be beleeu'd,
That great Philotas , whom we all beheld
In grace last night, should be arraign'd to day?
Att . It can be: and it is as I report:
For states of grace are no sure holds in Court.
Sost . But yet tis strange they should be ouerthrow'n
Before their certeine forfeitures were know'n.
Att . Tush, it was breeding long, though suddenly
This thunder-cracke comes but to breake out now.
Sost . The time I waited, and I waited long,
Vntill Philotas , with some other Lords,
Depart the Presence, and as I conceiu'd,
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
It was about the deepest of the night,
The blackest houre of darknesse and of sleepe,
When, with some other Lords, comes Craterus ,
Falles downe before the King, intreates, implores,
Coniures his Grace, as euer he would looke
To faue his person and the State from spoile,
Now to preuent Philotas practises;
Whom they had plainly found to be the man
Had plotted the destruction 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 left him till they had obtain'd
Commission t'apprehend Philotas streight.
Now, to make feare looke with more hideous face,
Or els, but to beget it out of forme,
And carefull preparations of distrust;
About the Palace men in armour watch,
In armour men about the King attend;
All passages and issues were forelayd
With horse, t'interrupt what euer newes
Should hence breake out into Parmenios campe.
I, with three hundred men in armour charg'd,
Had warrant to attach and to commit
The person of Philotas presently:
And comming to his lodging where he lay,
Found him imburied in the soundest sleepe
That euer man could be; where neither noyse
Of clattering weapons, or our rushing in
With rude and trampling rumour, could dissolue
The heauy humours of that drowsie brow;
Which held perhaps his sences now more fast,
As loth to leaue, because it was the last.
Sost, Attaras , what can treason sleepe so sound?
Will that lowd hand of Horror that still beats
Vpon the guilty conscience of distrust
Permit it t'haue so resolute a rest?
Att . 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 shooke him hard; and then at length he wakes:
And looking on me with a setled cheere,
Deare friend Attaras , what's the newes? (sayd he)
What vp so soone, to hasten the remoue,
Or rais'd by some alarme or some distrust?
I told him, that the King had some distrust:
VVhy, what will Nabarzanes play (sayth he)
The villaine with the King, as he hath done
Already with his miserable Lord?
I seeing he would not or did not vnderstand
His owne distresse, told him the charge I had:
Wherewith he rose, and rising vs'd these words;
O Alexander ! now I see my foes
Haue got aboue thy goodnesse, and preuail'd
Against my innocency and thy word
And as we then inchain'd and fettred him,
Looking on that base furniture of shame;
Poore body (sayd he) hath so many alarme
Rais'd thee to blood and danger from thy rest,
T'inuest thee with this armour now at last?
Is this the seruice I am call'd to now?
But we, that were not to attend his plaints,
Couering his head with a disgracefull weed,
Tooke and conuai'd him suddenly to ward;
From whence he shalbe instantly brought forth,
Here to b'arraign'd before the King; who sits
(According to the Macedonian vse)
In cases capitall, himselfe as Iudge.
Soft Well, then I see, who are so high aboue,
Are neere to lightning, that are neere to Ioue .

Scena Secvnda.

Alexander, with all his Councell, the dead body of Dymnus, the Reuealers of the conspiracy, Philotas.

The hainous treason of some few had like
T'haue rent me from you, worthy souldiers;
But by the mercy of th'immortall Gods
I liue, and ioy your sight, your reuerend sight;
Which makes me more t'abhor those paricides,
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, and our ancient friend;
A man of yeeres, experience, grauity;
Whose wicked minister Philotas is;
Who here Dimetrius, Luculaus , and
This Dymnus , whose dead body heere you see,
With others, hath suborn'd to slaughter me.
And here comes Metron with Nichomacus ,
To whom this murdred wretch at first reueal'd
The project of this whole conspiracy,
T'auere as much as was diselos'd to him.
Nichomacus , Looke heere, aduise thee well,
What, dost thou know this man that here lies dead?
Nic . My Souereigne 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.
Alex . Where or by whom, or when did he report,
This wicked act should be accomplished?
Nic . He sayd, within three daies your Maiesty
Should be within your chamber murdered
By speciall men of the Nobility;
Of whom he many nam'd, and they were these:
Loceus, Demetrius , and Archelopis ,
Nicanor , and Amintas, Luculens ,
Droceas , with Aphebaetus , and himselfe.
Mac . Thus much his brother Ceballinus did
Reueale to me from out this youths report.
Ceb . And so much, with the circumstance of all,
Did I vnto Philotas intimate.
Alex . Then, what hath been his mind, who did suppresse
The information of so soule a traine,
Your selues, my worthy souldiers, well may gesse,
Which Dymnus death declares not to be vaine.
Poore Ceballinus not a moment stayes
To redischarge himselfe of such a weight;
Philotas carelesse, fearelesse, nothing weighes,
Nor ought reueales. His silence shewes deceit,
And tels he was content it should be done:
Which, though he were no party, makes him one.
For he that knew vpon what pow'r he stood,
And saw his fathers greatnesse and his owne,
Saw nothing in the way, which now withstood
His vast desires, but only this my crowne;
Which in respect that I am issulesse,
He thinkes the rather easie to b'attain'd
But yet Philotas is deceiu'd in this;
I haue who shall inherit all I gain'd
In you I haue both children, kindred, friends;
You are the heires of all my purchases,
And whil'st you liue I am not issulesse.
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 shewes their ends Hold, reade it Craterus
Crat, reads it. My sonnes, first haue a speciall care vnto your selues ,
Then vnto those which do depend on you :
So shall you do what you intend to do .
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 designes;
If enterpriz'd, might mocke the ignorant.
But now you see what was the thing was meant,
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 innocency, but his pow'r,
Whom they account too great to be supprest,
And rather will accuse themselues than him:
For that whil'st he shall liue, there's hope for them.
And how h'hath borne himselfe in priuate sort,
I will not stand to vrge, it's too well knowne;
Nor what hath beene, his arrogant report,
T'imbase my actions, and to brag his owne;
Nor how he mockt my letter which I wrote:
To shew him of the stile bestow'd on me,
By th'Oracle of Ioue . These things I thought
But weaknesses, and words of vanity,
(Yet words that read the vlcers of his heart)
Which I supprest; and neuer ceast to yeeld
The chiese 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 blood had rather beene
Powr'd out, the offring of an enemy,
Than practiz'd to be shed by one of mine,
That one of mine should haue this infamy.
Haue I beene so reseru'd from feares, to fall
There where I ought not to haue fear'd at all!
Haue you so oft aduis'd me to regard
The safety which you saw me running from,
When with some hote pursute I pressed hard
My foes abroad; to perish thus at home!
But now, that safety only rests in you,
Whichyou so oft haue wisht me looke vnto:
And now vnto your bosomes must I flye,
Without whose will I will not wish to liue:
And with your wils I cannot, 'lesse I giue
Due punishment vnto this treachery.
Amin. Attaras , bring the hatefull prisoner forth;
This traytor, which hath sought t'vndoo vs all;
To giue vs vp to slaugh[t]er, and to make
Our bloode a scorne, here in this barbarous land;
That none of vs should haue returned backe
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.
Caen . O thou base traytor, impious paricide,
Who mak'st me loath the blood that matcht with thine;
And if I might but haue my will, I vow,
Thou should'st not die by other hand than mine.
Alex . Fie, Caenus , what a barbarous course is this:
He first must to his accusation plead,
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 that, beside the Macedonians, here
Are many that will better vnderstand,
If I shall vse the speech your grace hath vs'd;
Which was, I hold, vnto no other end,
But that the most men here might vnderstand.
Alex . 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.
Phi . Blacke are the colours layd vpon the crime,
Wherewith my faith stands charg'd, my worthy Lords;
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 hearts, and leaues no doore
For mine excuse to haue an enterance;
That destitute of all compassion, now,
Betwixt an vpright conscience of desart
And an vniust disgrace, I know not how
To satisfie the time, and mine owne heart.
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 pow'r 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 grieuance of a prisoners toong
May both superfluous and disgracefull seeme,
Which doth not sue, but shewes the Iudge his wrong:
Yet pardon me, I must not disesteeme
My rightfull cause for being despis'd, nor must
Forsake my selfe, though I am left of all
Feare cannot make my innocency vniust
Vnto it selfe, to giue my truth the fall
And I had rather (seeing how my fortune drawes)
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 feare but of a hurt
In King's behalfs, thrusts with that violence
The subiects will, to prosecute report,
As they condemne ere they discerne th'offence.
Eph. Philotas , you deceiue your selfe in this
That thinke to win compassion and beliefe
B'impugning iustice, and to make men gesse
We do you wrong out of our heat of griefe;
Or that our place or passion did lay more
On your misfortune, then your owne desert;
Or haue not well discern'd your fact before;
Or would without due proofs 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.
Crat . Thinke not, that we are set to charge you here
With bare suspitions, but with open fact,
And with a treason that appeares as cleare
As is the sun, and know'n to be your act.
Phi . What is this treason? who accuses me?
Crat . The processe of the whole conspiracy.
Phi . But where's the man that names me to be one?
Crat . Here, this dead traytor shewes you to be one
Phi . How can he, dead, accuse me of the same.
Whom, liuing, he nor did, nor yet could name?
Crat . But we can other testimony show,
From those who were your chiefest complices.
Phi . I am not to b'adiudg'd in law, you know,
By testimony, but by witnesses.
Let them be here produc'd vnto my face,
That can auouch m'a party in this case.
My Lords, and fellow Souldiers, 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 a case, still
Will rather slander others than 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 forst to say.
Had I beene one, would Dymnus haue conceal'd
My name, being held to be principall?
Would he not for his glory haue reueal'd
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 Ceballinus had not come to me,
And giuen me note of this conspiracy,
I had not stood here now, but beene 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 diuin'd of Dymnus death,
Philotas had, my Lords, sat there with you.
My fault was, to haue beene too credulous:
Wherein I shew'd my weaknesse, I confesse
Crat. Philotas , what, a Monarch, and confesse
Your imperfections, and your weaknesse?
Phi O Craterus , do not insult vpon calamity;
It is a barberous grosnesse, to lay on
The weight of scorne, where heauy misery
Too much already weighs mens fortunes downe:
For if the cause be ill I vndergo,
The law, and not reproch, must make it so.
Caen . There's no reproch can euer be too much
To lay on traytors, whose deserts are such
Phi . Men vse the most reproches, where they feare
The cause will better proue than they desire.
Caen . But sir, a traytors cause that is so cleare
As this of yours, will neuer neede that feare.
Phi . I am no traytor, but suspected one
For not beleeuing a conspiracy:
And meere suspect, by law, condemneth none;
They are approued facts for which men die
Crat . The law, in treasons, doth the will correct
With like seuerenesse as it doth th'effect:
Th'affection is the essence of th'offence;
The execution only but the accidence;
To haue but will'd it, is to haue done the same.
Phi . I did not erre in will, but in beliefe:
And if that be a traytor, then am I the chiese.
Crat . Yea, but your will made your beliefe consent
To hide the practise till th'accomplishment.
Phi . Beliefe turns 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 and 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 Physitian had prepar'd:
For that he heard Darius tempted had
His faith, with many talents, to be vntrue:
And yet his drugs in th'end not prouing bad,
Did make my fathers care seeme more than due:
For oft, by an vntimely diligence,
A busie faith may giue a Prince offence.
So that, what shall we do? If we reueale
We are despis'd; suspected if conceale.
And as for this, where euer now thou be,
O Alexander , thou hast pardon'd me:
Thou hast already giuen me thy hand,
The earnest of thy reconciled heart;
And therefore now O let thy goodnesse stand
Vnto thy word, and be thou as thou wert.
If thou beleeu'dst me, then I am absolu'd;
If pardon'd me, my fetters are dissolu'd;
If pardon'd me, my fetters are dissolu'd.
What haue I els deseru'd since yester night;
When at thy table I such grace did find?
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 cruelty
Should haue wrought more than thine owne clemency?
Crat. Philotas , whatsoeuer glosse you lay
Vpon your rotten cause, it is in vaine:
Your pride, your carriage, euer did bewray
Your discontent, your malice, and disdaine:
You cannot palliat mischiefe, but it will
Th'row all the fairest couerings of deceit
Be alwayes seene. We know those streames of ill
Flow'd from that head that fed them with conceit
You foster malecontents; you entertaine
All humors; you all factions must embrace;
You vaunt your owne exployts; and you disdaine
The Kings proceedings, and his stile disgrace;
You promise mountaines, and you draw men on,
With hopes of greater good than hath been seene;
You bragg'd of late, that something would be done
Whereby your Concubine should be a Queene.
And now we see the thing that should be done;
But, God be prais'd, we see you first vndone.
Phi. Ah, do not make my nature if it had
So pliable a sterne of disposition,
To turne to euery kindnesse, to be bad,
For doing good to men of all condition.
Make not your charity to interpret all
Is done for fauour, to be done for show,
And that we, in our bounties prodigall,
Vpon our ends, not on mens needs bestow.
Let not my one dayes errour 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 ioyne t'a present fact
More of time past, than it hath euer had
Before to do withall, as if it lackt
Sufficient matter els to make it bad.
I do confesse indeed I wrote something
Against this title of the sonne of Ioue ,
And that not of the King, but to the King
I freely vs'd these words out of my loue:
And thereby hath that dangerious liberty
Of speaking truth, with trust on former grace,
Betrai'd my meaning vnto enmity,
And draw'n an argument of my disgrace:
So that I see, though I speake what I ought,
It was not in that manner as I ought.
And God forbid, that euer souldiers words
Should be made liable vnto misdeeds;
When fainting in their march, tir'd in the fight,
Sicke in their tent, stopping their wounds that bleeds;
Or haut and iolly after conquest got,
They shall out of their heate vse words vnkinde;
Their deeds deserue, to haue them rather thought
The passion of the season, than their minde:
For souldiers ioy, or wrath, is measurelesse,
Rapt with an instant motion: and we blame,
We hate, we prayse, we pity in excesse,
According as our present passions frame.
Sometimes to passe the Ocean we would faine,
Sometimes to other worlds, and sometimes slacke
And idle, with our conquests, entertaine
A sullen humor of returning backe:
All which conceits one trumpets sound doth end,
And each man running to his ranke doth lose
What in our tents dislikt vs, and we spend
All that conceiued wrath vpon our foes
And words, if they proceede of leuity,
Are to be scorn'd, of madnesse, pitied;
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
Crat. But words, according to the person, way;
If his designes are haynous, so are they:
They are the tinder of sedition still,
Wherewith you kindle fires, 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 fence
Only of my misfortune, not offence
Had I pretended mischiefe to the King,
Could not I haue effected it without
Dymnus ? 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?
Crat. Philotas , euen the Prouidence aboue,
Protectresse of the sacred state of Kings;
That neuer suffers treachery to haue
Good counsell; neuer in this case but brings
Confusion to the actors; did vndo
Your hearts in what you went about to do.
Phi. But yet despaire, we see, doth thrust men on,
Se'ing no way els, t'vndo ere be vndon.
Crat. That same despaire doth likewise let me[n] fall
In that amaze, they can do nought at all.
Phi. Well, well, my Lords, my seruice hath made know'n
The faith I owe my Souereigne, and the State;
Philotas forwardnesse hath euer show'n
Vnto 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.
Eph. We blame not what y'haue been, but what you are;
We accuse not here your valour, but your fact;
Not to haue beene 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, than with duty lead,
You haue done much; yet all your courses proue
You tide still your atchieuements to the head
Of your owne honour, when it hath beene meet
You had them layd downe at your Souereignes feet.
God giues to Kings the honour to command,
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 recompens'd your seruices
With better loue than you shew thankfulnesse.
By grace he made you greater than you were
By nature, you receiu'd that which he was not tide
To giue to you: his gift was far more deere
Than all you did, in making you imployd.
But say your seruice hath deseru'd it 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 cancell'd cleane.
Phi. My Lord, you far mistake me, if you deeme
I plead for life; that poore weake blast of breath,
From which so oft I ran with light esteeme,
And so well haue acquainted me with death:
No, no, my Lords, it is not that I feare;
It is mine honour that I seeke to cleare;
And which, if my disgraced cause would let
The language of my heart be vnderstood,
Is all which I haue euer sought to get,
And which, — O leaue me now, and take my blood;
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 wound
My reputation with that wrong, I pray.
If I must needs be made the sacrifice
Of enuy, and that no oblation will
The wrath of Kings, but only blood, suffice,
Yet let me haue some thing lest 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 hearts and hands can do,
Yet that by which we do is only ours.
The trophees that our blood erects vnto
Their memory, to glorifie their pow'rs,
Let them enioy: 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 doing 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 too valourous,
But fiue dayes fince, — yet O well, — lost his breath;
Thy dear Nicanor th'halfe arch of thy house;
And here now the other at the barre of death,
Stands ouercharg'd 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 killes in peace, whom Fortune spares in warre.
And this is that high grace of Kings we seeke,
Whose fauour and whose wrath consumes alike.
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 soule fact of yours, you stand vpon
Philotas , shall, beside th'apparency
Which all the world sees plaine, ere we haue done
By your owne mouth be made to satisfie
The most stiffe partialist that will not see
Phi. My mouth will neuer proue so false (I trust)
Vnto my heart, 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 sayd, 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 conspir'd
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 imagine ill
Bel. What need we send to know more than we know?
That were to giue you time to acquant your friends
With your estate, till some combustion grow
Within the campe, to hasten on your ends,
And that the gold and all the treasury
Committed to your fathers custody
In Medea , now might arme his desp'rat troups
To come vpon vs, and to cut our throats.
What, shall we aske of Ioue , that which he hath
Reueal'd already? But let's send to giue
Thanks, that by him the King hath scap't the wrath
Of thee, disloyall traytor, and doth liue
Guar. Let's teare the wretch in pieces, let vs rend
With our owne hands the traitrous paricide
Alex . Peace, Belon , silence, louing souldiers:
You see, my Lords, out of your iudgements graue,
That all excuses sickly colours haue,
And he that hath thus false and faithlesse beene
Must find out other gods and other men
Whom to forsweare, and whom he may deceiue;
No words of his can make vs more beleeue
His impudence: and therefore, seeing tis late,
We, till morning, do dismisse the Court.