The Court of Portugal. | ||
Enter Viceroy, Alexandro, Villuppo. | ||
Vic. | Is our ambassador despatch'd for Spain? | |
Alex. | Two days, my liege, are past since his depart. | |
Vic. | And tribute-payment gone along with him? | |
Alex. | Ay, my good lord. | |
Vic. | Then rest we here awhile in our unrest, | |
And feed our sorrows with some inward sighs; | ||
For deepest cares break never into tears. | ||
But wherefore sit I in a regal throne? | ||
This better fits a wretch's endless moan. | ||
[Falls to the ground. | ||
Yet this is higher than my fortunes reach, | 10 | |
And therefore better than my state deserves. | ||
Ay, ay, this earth, image of melancholy, | ||
Seeks him whom fates adjudge to misery. | ||
Here let me lie; now am I at the lowest. | ||
Qui jacet in terra, non habet unde cadat. | ||
In me consumpsit vires fortuna nocendo: | ||
Nil superest ut jam possit obesse magis. | ||
Yes, Fortune may bereave me of my crown: | ||
Here, take it now;--let Fortune do her worst, | ||
She will not rob me of this sable weed: | 20 |
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