How Avlvs Vitellius Emperour of Rome came to an infortunate end, The yeare of Christ, 71.

To treade the staire to state, who takes in hand,

And thereon enters first by bribes or bloud;

On slippery ground hee cannot firmely stand,

Ne fixte is hee, his hold is nothing good,

Though he knew erst how firme on ground he stood,

And thinke to fixe his seat with better hold;

Hee cannot scape yet schotfree vncontrol’d.

To see before his face the fall of such

As climbe vp so, and cannot yet take heede,

But must of force th’imperiall title tuch,

Wherein so many doubts of daunger breede:

A poynt of peeuishe pride, a rage in deede

By blindnesse blunt, a sottishe sweame hee feeles:

With ioyes bereapte[1039] when death is hard at heeles.

Hence Fortune well tooke name, accounted blind,

Because men fortunate vnfitly see;

To pleasures sweete and honoures all enclynde,

Without respect the most addicted bee,

Regarding nought but titles of degree,

Whereby mishaps, infortunes of their race,

In high prospects of vew can take no place.

This blindnesse is not of the eyes alone,

But of the minde a dimnesse and a mist;

For when they shift to sit in hawty throne,

With hope to rule the scepter as they list,

Ther’s no regard nor feare of had-I-wist:

The present pleasure, glory, wealth, and ioy

Bereaues their gaze, the feare of all anoy.

The trade of men is such too late th’are wise;

Too late they knowe which way mischaunces fell;

At first the Phrygians counsayle did despise,

At last they knewe the way t’haue holpe it well,

When Græcians did their noble Princes quell,

Had fierde and sackt their Towne of worthie fame,

When they too late knewe howe t’haue sau’de the same.

Our Cæsar sawe too late his cause of fall,

And Drusus poisned had as fortune ill;

Domitius Nero hated most of all,

Eke Galba, which his master sought to kill,

So Siluius Otho whose bloud I did spill,

And I Vitellius may affirme with these,

Illud verum, Serio sapiunt Phryges.

We all assaylde and gate the throne by sworde,

So each we sawe how they before vs spead;

The onely fruite which treason hath t’afforde,

Is losse of pleasures, goods, lands, life or head;

The gayne we get, stands vs small time in stead,

The Fame we craue, becomes defame and shame,

And rusts for aye deuouring our good name.

Of slaughters mine what neede I here discry,

Or how the Romaynes reft away my life,

When I seuen monthes had raygned wickedly,

Which entred in by bloud and ciuill strife;

But this I finde too late a sequell rife,

Who takes by sworde from Prince the scepter’s guide,

By sworde from him the scepter so shall slide,

[He cannot long himselfe from Iouae’s Justice hide,

When loyall loue thy Prince, let treason trudge beside.]