Her chamber is her prison (O most willing) And there like house-doues they each other woo At first shee'l shun him, after fall a billing, And with imagination make him doo. Thy eies quoth _Mahomet_, saues thousands killing For all my force vpon thee shall be spent, Thy warres directions I do best allow, Thy Armes my Armour, and thy bed my Tent. 87 Who doth offend this paramour, straight dyes, As certainly, as if pronounc'd by fate, Who doth with duty please her, needs must rise, Her face directeth both his loue and hate. The grosest flatterer is held most wise. Now reignes swolne gluttony, red lust, and pride: For when the heart's corrupted in a state, Needs must the other parts be putrifide. 88 The c[=o]mons like wolues, bark againft the moone And sweare they wil depose him from his throne: The Nobles whisper, and intend, that soone. Some one shal let their griefe to him be knowne. To scape that office now is each mans boone, Who speakes against her whets a fatall knife, For he replyes, I loose but what's mine owne, As sure as we haue life, you loose that life. 89 They stand amaz'd, by hearing their own feares Each viewing other with a face extracted: Some praying, cursing, other shedding teares, To see a Louer by a Souldier acted. Patience doth foole vs that so long forbeares, To tell our Emperour hee's turn'd a monster, And to such ease and vices so contracted. The world, his birth, and titles doth mis-conster. 90 Then _Mustapha_, beloued of the Turke, Stood vp, and said, I hazard will my head, Know Countrymen, Ile vndertake this worke, And if I fall, lament me being dead. No flattery within this breast shall lurke: For that to Princes eares is now grown common Whilest _Mahomet_ to haue his pleasure fed, Doth loose the worlds sway for a fickle woman. 91 Vnto her priuate chamber straight he goes, And findes his foueraigne sleeping on her lap, On suddaine wakes him: Sir, here are your foes, The sound amaz'd him like a thunder-clap: Although you sleep, awak't are all our woes. The franticke Emperour vpon him stares, Relate in briefe the worst of our mishap, Man cannot wrong vs, when a God not dares. 92 This danger _Mehomet_, attends thy reigne, The Gods are angry with thy lustfull ease, Thy priuate pleasure is the Empires paine, To please your selfe you all the world displease: The Sophy, German, and the King of Spaine, Begirt thy safety with the ribbes of death. Then worthy Prince, your wonted valour cease, And take my counsel, though it cost my breath. 93