Classic Poem

N ICOCRATES a cruell tyrant, slewe
Sir Faedimus, who had vnto his wife
One Aretafila, of gallant hewe,
And after, (hauing reft the husbands life)
Did wedde this dame who though were made a queene
Might not forget the murther she had seene.
No loue deuise, no iewels fet from farre,
Could so reclaime this noble Ladies minde,
But that she would aduenture him to marre,
Who slew her knight, whereat she so repinde:
By poisoned drinke she meant to do the deede,
But that was found, it might not well succeede.
The tyrants mother Caluia, tygreleeke,
Procurde her plagues, and torments dinersly,
For that the Queene to slay her sonne did seeke,
But wisely she did slacke this crueltie:
And made him thinke her sirupe was to proue,
Where she might force in him a greater loue
Which shift allowed, she more in credit grew,
The king forgaue, but she could not forget,
But once againe deuisde a drifte anewe,
Which as she thought, might lightly haue no let.
The king a brother had, a wilfull wight,
Bente all to loue, and he Leander hight.
This Ladie bare by Fedimus of yore,
A daughter faire, whom she by practise sought,
To couple with Leander euermore,
Which macht at length with much ado was wroght,
Then all the mothers skil, and daughters drifte,
Was by this youth, the king from crown to lifte
By day the Queen the daughter did perswade,
The wife by night did play her part so well,
As in a while these two Leander made
To vndertake to rid this tyrant fell:
No dew regard of bloud, no care of kinde,
Could stay the fact, this princoxe was so blinde.
The king was slaine by cruell brothers hande,
The realme releast of such bloudie foe,
Leander then did gouerne all the lande,
The hope was great that matters wel should goe:
But when this youth had once atchiude the state,
He scornde the Queene, and al her friends forgate.
Puft vp with princely pride, he wore the crown,
And lawlesse liude, so neare his brothers trade,
As needefull was to seeke to put him downe:
And thereupon the Qucenc this practise made,
She birde for coyne a noble man at armes,
To slay her sonne, to salue her countries harmes.
This warlike Captaino came from Libie lande,
Who tooke by force this tyrant coward king,
And gaue him vp into his mothers hande:
A Noble dame that compast twice to bring
Her realme to reste, and rigour to subdewe.
Lo here the summe, the processe doth ensewe.