Two days, my liege, are pass'd since his depart.
Viceroy.
And tribute-payment gone along with him?
Alexandro.
Ay, my good lord.
Viceroy.
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[52] regal throne?
This[53] better fits a wretch's endless moan.
[Falls to the ground.
Yet this is higher than my fortunes reach,
And therefore better than my state deserves.
Ay, ay, this earth, image of melancholy,
Seeks him, whom fates adjudge[54] to misery.
Here let me lie, now am I[55] at the lowest.
Qui jacet in terra, non habet unde cadat.
In me consumpsit vires fortuna nocendo:
Nil[56] superest ut jam, possit obesse magis.