Plunge vs each day in all afflictions.
Wherwith when we our soules do thorned feele,
Flatt'ring our selues we say they dest'nies are:
That Gods would haue it so, and that our care
Could not empeach but that it must be so.

_Char._ Things here belowe are in the heau'ns begot,
Before they be in this our worlde borne:
And neuer can our weaknes turne awry
The stailes course of powerfull destenie.
Nought here force, reason, humaine prouidence,
Holie deuotion, noble bloud preuailes:
And Ioue himselfe whose hand doth heauens rule,
Who both to Gods and men as King commaunds,
Who earth (our firme support) with plenty stores,
Moues aire and sea with twinckling of his eie,
Who all can doe, yet neuer can vndoe
What once hath been by their hard laws decreed.
When _Troian_ walles, great _Neptunes_ workmanship,
Enuiron'd were with _Greekes_, and Fortunes whele
Doubtfull ten yeares now to the campe did turne,
And now againe towards the towne return'd:
How many times did force and fury swell
In _Hectors_ veines egging him to the spoile
Of conquer'd foes, which at his blowes did flie,
As fearfull shepe at feared wolues approche:
To saue (in vaine: for why? it would not be)
Pore walles of _Troie_ from aduersaries rage,
Who died them in bloud, and cast to ground
Heap'd them with bloudie burning carcases.
No, Madame, thinke, that if the ancient crowne
Of your progenitors that _Nilus_ rul'd,
Force take from you; the Gods haue will'd it so,
To whome oft times Princes are odiouse.
They haue to euery thing an end ordain'd;
All worldly greatnes by them bounded is;
Some sooner, later some, as they think best:
None their decree is able to infringe.
But, which is more, to vs disastred men
Which subiect are in all things to their will,
Their will is hidd: nor while we liue, we know
How, or how long we must in life remaine.
Yet must we not for that feede on dispaire,
And make vs wretched ere we wretched bee:
But alwaies hope the best, euen to the last,
That from our selues the mischief may not growe.
Then, Madame, helpe your selfe, leaue of in time
_Antonies_ wracke, lest it your wracke procure:
Retire you from him, saue frrom wrathfull rage
Of angry _Caesar_ both your Realme and you.
You see him lost, so as your amitie
Vnto his euills can yelde no more reliefe.
You see him ruin'd, so as your support
No more hencefourth can hi