Book II, 57: On NABVCHADNEZZER

What lucklesse Accident hath bred such ods
Betwixt great Babels Monarch, and his Gods,
That they so oft disturbe him, and affright
His broken slumbers with the Dreames of night!
Alas, what hath this Princely Dreamer done,
That he must quit the Glory of his Throne,
His Royall Scepter, his Imperiall Crowne?
Must be expeld his Honour, and come downe
Below the meanest Slave, and, for a Season,
Be banisht from the use, the Act of Reason?
Must be exil'd from humane shape, and chew
The cudde, and must be moistned with the dew
Of heav'n; nay, differ in no other thing
From the bruit beast, but that he was a King?
What ayle thy Gods, that they are turn'd so rough,
So full of rage? what, had they meat enough
To fill their golden Stomacks? Was thy knee
Bent oft enough? what might the reason be?
Alas, poore harmelesse things! it was not they;
'Twas not their wills: I dare be bold to say,
They knew it not: It was not they that did it;
They had no pow'r to act, or to forbid it:
Deserv'st thou not, Great King, the stile of Beast,
To serve such Gods, whose Deities can digest
Their servants open wrongs? that could dispense
With what they'endure, without the least offence;
Illustrious Beast, methinks thy better'd state
Has no great reason to complaine of Fate:
Thou art more neere to him thou didst adore,
By one degree, then ere thou wert before:
Tis some promotion; That there is lesse ods
'Betwixt thy Nature, and thy senslesse Gods.