Gycia A Tragedy in Five Acts w/ Direct link technology (A Tragic Drama)

King. Lysimachus, The load of empire lies a weary weight, On age-worn brains; tho' skies and seas may smile, And steadfast favouring Fortune sit serene, Guiding the helm of State, but well thou knowest-- None better in my realm--through what wild waves, Quicksands, and rock-fanged straits, our Bosphorus, Laden with all our love, reels madly on To shipwreck and to ruin. From the North, Storm-cloud on storm-cloud issuing vollies forth Fresh thunderbolts of war. The Emperor Dallies within his closed seraglios, Letting his eunuchs waste the might of Rome, While the fierce Scythian, in a surge of blood, Bursts on our bare-swept plains.