Pharonnida: A HEROIC POEM.  
BY WILLIAM CHAMBERLAYNE Of Shaftsbury in the County of Dorcet.  〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉. Hom. Odyss. Lib. XIX. 
LONDON, Printed for Robert Clavell, at the Sign of the Stags-head near St. Gregory's Church in St. Paul's Churchyard, 1659.   

TO The right Worshipful, SIR WILLIAM PORTMAN, BARONET.  
Honoured Sir,  
THough by that Splendour with which the bountiful hand of Fortune, illustrated by the more excellent Gifts of Nature, hath Adorned you, to the illumina●ting the Hopes of all your expecting Friends: I might justly fear these Glow-worm's of Fancy may be out-shone, to the obscurity of a contemptible Neglect; You being like, ere long, to prove that glorious Luminary, to whose ascending Brightness the happiest Wits that grace the British Hemisphere, like Persian Priests, prostrated to the rising Sun, will devote the Morning Sacrifices of their Muses: Yet Animated by your late Candid Reception of my more Youthful Labours, whose humble flights having your Name to beautify their Front, past the public View unsullied, by the cloudy Aspect of the most Critic Spectator: I have once more assumed the boldness to let the Infirmities of my Fancy take Sanctuary under the Name of so honoured a Patron. Though my Abilities could not clothe Her in such Robes, as would render Her a fit Companion for your serious Studies, yet I hope her Dress is not so sordid, but she may prove an acceptable Attendant on your more vacant Hours. For my Subject (it being Heroic Poesy) it is such as the wiser part of the World hath always held in a Venerable Esteem, the Extracts of Fancy being that noble Elixir, which Heaven ordained to Immortalize their Memories, whose worthy Actions being the Products of that nobler part of Man, the Soul, is by this made, almost Commensurate with Her Eternity; which otherwise (to the sorrow of succeeding Ages) who are in debt for much of their Virtue to a noble Emulation of their glorious Ancestors, had either terminated in a Circle of no larger a Diameter then Life; or like short breathed Ephemeras, only survived a while in the Airy Region of Discourse.  
This, Sir, having been the past Fortune of our Predecessors; And, as the Pregnant Hopes of your blooming Spring, promises the World like to be yours in the future; yours, when both the splendid Beauties of your most glorious Palace, and the lasting Structure of your Marble Domitory, time shall have so levigated, that the wanton Winds dally with their Dust: I doubt not but to find you so much a Maecenas, as to affect the Eternising of your Name, more from the lasting Lineaments of Learning, than those vain Phainomena of Pleasures, which are the low Delights of more Vulgar Spirits.  
Though I confess these 〈◊〉 beneath the serious View, 〈◊〉 a Wit Acuated with the best Adjuncts of Art, will, ere long, render the ordinary Recreations of your Progressive Studies; yet, as in relation to the Latitude for which they were Calculated: I hope they may not appear unworthy a present Supervisall; It being intended (like the weak Productions of the early Spring) but for the April of your Age; where, though my Hopes tell me it may subsist, whilst irrigated with those balmy Dews of Passion, which are the usual Concommitants of Youth: I am not guilty of so unbecoming a Boldness, as to think it fit to stand the heat of your more vigorous Maturity, when the Meridian Altitude of your Comprehensive Judgement shall have attained so near an universality of Knowledge; As the Sun when in its Apogaeum, doth of Light, that being only hindered by a Comparatively Punctillo of Earth; As the powerful Energies of noble Souls, are by the upper Garments of their Mortality, from being at once Ubiquitary Blessings.  
Fortified by these Considerations, with the hope of your Acceptance, and assured, that prefixing your Name, is an Amulet of sufficient power to preserve me from the Contagion of Censure; I have, with an unruffled Confidence, given these Papers a Capacity of being publicly viewed: If their being liked attain but near the Dimensions of your being beloved, it will co-equate the knowledge the World shall have of them; that being so universal, as the Serenities of your Bliss is the happiness of your nearest Relations; so is it much of the hopes of those, that only know you at a remoter distance: And shall be still the Prayer of,  
SIR, Your devoted Servant, William chamberlain. Shaftsbury, May 12. 1659.   

TO THE READER.  
SInce Custom obliges me to give a Welcome at the Gate, I shall not be so irregular, as not to meet that common Civility, with a fair Compliance. And though like the passive Elements, I lie open to all the Incongruity of Aspects, of which I have some reason to doubt, the most powerful may be found in a disdainful opposition; yet, like the noblest of Active Creatures (Light) I shall not think myself sullied by every Vapour; nor solicit his Acquaintance, that cannot so long spare his Eyes from beholding more Active Vanities.  
I have always held it a Soloescim for Entertainers to be Beggars. And, although by exposing these Papers to the public View, I must consequently expect variety of Censures; should be loath to descend so low to court the Applause of every Reader, from whose various Genii, I am necessitated to take such Welcome, as Affection in most (though Judgement in so the) shall incline them to give. For the first of which, as their Censures are doubtful, so their Calumnies are small, not of weight sufficient to balance the indifferent temper of my thoughts: But for the latter, since looked upon as competent Judges, though their Sentence may be formidable; I shall beg no further favour, than what their Ability thinks fir to bestow; only, for what they may justly except against, could rather wish that whilst these Papers were private, I had had their Advice to reform, than now they are published their Censure to condemn. Fortune hath placed me in too low a Sphere to be happy in the Acquaintance of the Ages more Celebrated Wits: Wherefore wonder not, that I appear un-ushered in with a Train of Encomiums, which (though I confess) If from knowing and judicious Friends, they add a Luster to the Author's ensuing Labours; yet the Custom of these Times often makes them appear as ridiculous, as a splendid and beautiful Front to an empty and contemptible Cottage.  
I have made bold with the Title of Heroick, but have a late Example that deters me from disputing upon what grounds I assumed it: If it suits not with the Abilities of my Pen, yet it is no unbecoming Epithet for the Eminence of those personated in my Poem. For the place of my Scene, manner of Composure, and the like; though in Prefaces they often find an immature Discovery, and perhaps, but acuate an Appetite to what, on further progress may prove but a distasteful Banquet: I hold them so impertinent, that if Will, and Leasure serves you to read, you may suddenly with more Advantage, satisfy yourself, if not omit them as strangers to your other Affairs, and not to be understood but in their own Dialect.  
I have done with all that in probability may prove my Readers; And now a word to such, whom I presume, will be none, for they are desired to do no more than the Epistle, It being fit to serve them like Vagabonds, let them enter no further than the Gate; I mean, all squint-eyed Sectaries, from the Spawn of Geneva, to the black Brood of Amsterdam: together with some Rascals of a lower Rank, such as usurp the abused Title of, Sons of Art, and with an empty Impudence, endeavour to pollute those Immaculate Virgins; whilst the other, with an exalted Villainy sully the Celestial Beauties of Divine Truth. For the first of which, the preposterous Genius of the Times hath so far favoured them, that now nothing is more vendible than the surreptitious offsprings of their imagined Wit: Every Stationer's Shop affording pregnant examples of it, in big bulked Volumes of Physic, Astrology, and the like: By these indigent Vermin, either to satisfy their clamorous Wants, or enhance their esteem in the Vulgar Opinion, basely prostituted to every illiterate Spectator; whilst Truth, and a guilty Conscience, tells them nought is their own but the Hyperbolical Titles, which to discerning Eyes appear but the glorious outsides to tainted Sepulchers, in which their detected Villainy shall be Abominated by more knowing Posterity These cry down all things of this Nature, for Subjects of Inutility, not tending to the improvement of Science, which in the most genuine Construction of it, hath no Enemy from which her ruin is more formidable then from them.  
But for my more dangerous Sceptic, (who yet is so much like the Foal of an Ass, that he appears to the World with his Spleen in his Mouth) I mean, my pretended zealous Censurer, from whom in me, it were an overweening boldness to expect Civility; since (though not for the Nature, which he understands not, yet for the Name which he hath only heard of, he is so much an Enemy to the Muses; that should the Seraphic Strains of Majestic David, or the flaming Raptures of Elegiac Jeremiah, appear to the World in their pristine and unpolluted Purity; his Ignorance would extend to so vast an Error, to censure them of Levity.  
But as no man will esteem the Sun less Glorious, for that the hated Owl avoids its sight; so I presume, none, except their own deluded Followers will betray so palpable a dearth of Judgement, as to bear the less estecm to Majestic Poetry; for the illiterate scandal of flattering Ignorance: Poesy (if justly meriting to be invested in that glorious Title) being of so attractive a Beauty, that it doth rather like an Orphean Harmony, draw that Emblem of a Beast, the unpolished Clown to a listening Civility, then like Circe's Enchantments, change the more happily Educated, to a swinish and sordid Lethargy. But her defence being a burden which already stands firm on so many noble Supporters, whose Monuments will remain, till Time itself shall be lost in Eternity: I need not add my weak Endeavours to illustrate a Beauty, which the wiser world already admires; Now (though she want the Applause of some) Attribute it not to the defect, either of her Excellency, or their Judgement; but to that various Dress of Humours, wherewith Nature hath Chequered the Universe: Concluding with that Honour of ancient Thebes, 
〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉.  
Pindarus in Olympiorum octavo.   
W. C.   

PHARONNIDA. The first Book.  

CANTO THE FIRST.  
The ARGUMENT.  

I.  
From Seas wild fury, and the wilder rage  
Of faithless Turks, two noble strangers freed,  
Let Courtesy their grateful Souls engage  
To such a Debt as doth obstruct their speed.   

II.  
Where they to fill those Scenes unactive rest,  
Would tedious make in fair description saw,  
How Spata's Prince for his Queen's loss oppressed,  
Found all those Ills cured in Pharonnida.   
THE Earth which lately lay like Nutures Tomb,  
Marbled in Frosts, had from her pregnant Womb  
Displayed the fragrant Spring, when courted by  
A calm fresh Morning, ere Heaven's brightest Ey  
Adorned the East, a Spartan Lord, whom Fame,  
Taught from Desert, made glorious by the Name  
Of Aminander, with a noble train,  
(Whose active Youth did sloath-like sin disdain)  
Attended, had worn out the Morning in  
Chase of a stately Stag, which having been  
Forced from the Forests safe protection, to  
Discovering Plain, his clamourous Foes had drew  
Up to a steep Cliffs lofty top, where he  
As if grown proud, so sacrificed to be  
To man's delight, 'mongst the pursuing cry,  
(Who make the Valleys echo Victory)  
Sinks weeping, whilst exalted shouts did tell  
The distant Hea●ds, their ancient Leader fell.  
The half-tired Hunters, their swift Game stopped here  
By death, like noble Conquerors appear,  
To give that Foe, which now resistless lies  
With their shrill Horns his Funeral Obsequies;  
Which whilst performing their diverted sight,  
Turns to behold a far more fatal fight:  
That since famed Gulf, where the brave Austrian made  
The Turkish Crescents an eternal shade,  
Beneath dishonour seeks, Lepanto lay  
So near, that from their lofty station they  
A Ship upon whose Streamers there were fixed  
The Christian Badge saw in fierce Battle mixed,  
With a prevailing Turkish Squadron that  
With shouts assault, what now lay only at  
That feeble Guard, which under the pretence  
Of injuring others, seeks its own defence.  
Clear was the day, and calm the Sea so long  
Till now the Turks, whose numbers grew too strong,  
For all that could no other help afford,  
But humane strength, within their view did board  
The wretched Christians, to whose sufferings they  
Can lend no comfort, but what Prayers convey  
To helpful Heaven, by whose attentive Ear,  
Both heard and pitied, Mercy did appear  
In this swift change: A hollow Wind proclaims  
Approaching storms, the black Clouds burst in flames,  
Imprisoned Thunder roars, and in a shower,  
Dark as the Night, dull sweaty Vapours pour  
Themselves on th' earth, t' enrich whom Nature vents  
Th' etherial Fabrics useless excrements;  
Whose flatuous pride, as if it did disdain  
Such base descents, rolling the liquid plain  
Into transparent Mountains, hurls them at  
The brow of Heaven, whose Lamps by Vapours that  
Their influence raised, are cramped, whilst the sick day  
Was languishing to such a Night as lay  
O'er the first Matter, when Confusion dwelled  
In the vast Chaos, ere the rude Mass felt  
Heaven's segregating breath; But long this fierce  
Conflict endures not, ere the Sunbeams pierce  
The scattered Clouds, which whilst wild Winds pursue  
Through sullied Air in reaking Vapours flew.  
In this Encounter of the storm before  
Its sable Veil let them discover more,  
Then contained horror, a loud dreadful shriek,  
Piercing the thick Air, at their Ears did seek  
For trembling entrance, being transported by  
Uncertain drifts, rend Sails and Tackling fly  
Amongst the towering Cliffs, a sure presage  
That adverse Winds did in that storm engage  
Some Vessel, which did from her Cordage part,  
With such sad pangs, as from the dying Heart  
Convulsions tear the Fibers. But the day  
recovering her lost Rain, made clearer way  
For a more sad discovery. They behold  
The brackish Main in funeral Pomp unfold  
The Trophies of her Cruelty: Her Brow  
Uncurled with Waves, was only spotted now  
With scattered Ruins, here engaged within  
The ruffled Sails, some sad Souls that had been  
For life long struggling tired, at length are forced  
To sink and die; Yonder a Pair divorced  
From all the warm Society of flesh,  
With cold stiff Arms embrace their Fate; The fresh  
And tender Virgin in her Lover's sight,  
The Sea-Gods ravish, and th' Enthean light  
Of those bright Orbs, her Eyes, which could by nought  
But Seas be quenched, t' eternal darkness brought.  
Whilst pitying these, a sudden noise, whose strange  
Confusion did their Passions Object change,  
Assaults their wonder, which by this surprise  
Amazed, persuades them to inform their Eyes  
With its obscure Original, when led  
By sounds that might in base Souls have bred  
A swift aversion: clashing Weapons they  
Might soon behold upon the Sands, that lay  
Beneath the Rock, a Troop of desperate men,  
Unstartled with those dangers, which even then  
Their ruin'd Ship, and dropping Garments showed  
Heaven freed them from, what Mercy had bestowed:  
Let their own anger lose, which flaming in  
A fatal Combat, had already been  
In blood disfigured: But when now so near  
Them drawn, that every Object did appear  
In true distinction, they with wonder raised  
To such a height, as Poets would have praised  
Their Heroes in, a noble Christian saw  
Whose Sword (as if by the eternal Law  
Of Providence, to punish Infidels,  
Directed) with each falling stroke expels  
A Turks black Soul; Yet Valour being oppressed  
By multitudes, must have at length sought rest  
From Death, had not brave Ariamnes, by  
His Hunters followed, brought him Victory:  
Whilst the approaching danger did exclude  
Even hope, the last support of Fortitude.  
The desperate Turks that chose the Sea to be  
Their sad Redeemer of Captivity:  
Though from that fear they fled to death, had now  
Upon the Shoar left none, life could allow  
But motion to, though stopped by death such store,  
All the Escaped appeared, but such as bore  
The fatal Story of destruction to  
Their distant Friends; when now a serious view  
By Ariamnes, and that noble Youth,  
Whose Actions (honoured as authentic truth)  
Made all admire him, of their pitied dead  
With sorrow took, one worthy Soul unfled  
From life they found, which by Argalia seen,  
With joy recalls those Spirits that had been  
In busy Action lost, but danger that  
Toward the Throne of life seemed entering at  
Too many wounds, denies him to enlarge  
The Sheam of Love, as noble Virtues charge  
To him (her follower) Ariamnes by  
His goodness, and their sad necessity,  
Prompted to pity, fearing slow delays  
As dangers fatal Harbinger, conveys  
The wounded strangers to the place, where he  
His Palace made the Throne of Charity.  
'Twas the short journey 'twixt the Day and Night,  
The calm fresh Evening, Time's Hermaphrodite.  
The Sun on Lights dilated Wings being fled,  
To call the Western Villagers from Bed:  
Ere at his Castle they arrive, which stood  
Upon a Hill, whose Basis frenged with wood,  
Shadowed the fragrant Meadows, through which  
A spacious River, striving to enrich  
The flowery Valleys, with what ever might  
At home be profit, or abroad delight,  
With parted streams that pleasant Islands made,  
It's gentle Current to the Sea conveyed.  
In the composure of this happy place  
Wherein he lived, as if framed to embrace  
So brave a Soul, as now did animate  
It with its presence, strength, and beauty sat  
Combined in one, 'twas not so vastly large,  
But fair convenience countervaild the charge  
Of Reparations, all that modest Art  
Affords to so●●r pleasures every part,  
More for its Ornament, but none were dressed  
In Robes so rich, but what alone expressed  
Their Master's providence and care to be,  
A prop to falling Hospitality;  
For he not Comet-like did blaze out in  
This Country Sphere, what had extracted been  
From the Courts lazy Vapours, but had stood  
There like a Star of the first Magnitude,  
With a fixed constancy so long, that now  
Grown old in Virtue he began to bow  
Beneath the weight of time, and since the calm  
Of Age had left him nothing to embalm  
His Name but Virtue, strives in that to be  
The glorious wonder of Posterity;  
Each of his Actions being so truly good,  
That like the Ground where hollowed Temples stood,  
Although by age the Ruins ruin'd seem,  
The people bear a reverend esteem  
Unto the place; so they preserve his Name,  
A yet unwasted Pyramid of Fame.  
Rich were his public Virtues, but the price  
Of those was but the World to Paradise,  
Compared with that rare Harmony that dwells  
Within his Walls, each Servant there excels  
All but his Fellows in dese●t, each knew,  
First when, then how his Lords Commands to do;  
None more enjoyed, then was enough, none less,  
All did of plenty taste, none of excess;  
Riot was here a stranger, but far more  
Repining penury, ne'er from that door,  
The Poor-man went denied, nor did the rich  
Ere surfeit there, 'twas the blessed Medium, which,  
Extracted from all compound Virtues we  
Make, and than Christian Mediocrity,  
Within the compass of his spacious Hall,  
Stood no vain Pictures to obscure the Wall,  
Which useful Arms adorned, and such as when  
His Prince required assistance, his own men  
Valiant, and numerous, managed to defend  
That righteous Cause, but never to attend  
A popular Faction, whose corrupted Seed  
Hell did engender, and Ambition feed.  
His Judgement that like Life's Attendant, Sense,  
To try each Objects various difference,  
Fit Mediums chose (which he made Virtue) here  
Beholding (though these wand'ring Stars appear  
Now in their greatest detriment) the Rays  
Of perfect worth, he to that Virtue pays  
Those Attributes of honour, which unto  
Their Births (though now in course disguise) was due:  
To Aphron's wounds successful Art applies,  
Prevailing Medicines, whilst Invention flies  
To the Aphelion of her Orb to seek  
Such modest Pleasures as might smooth the Cheek  
Of ruffled Passion, which being found are spent,  
To cure the sad Argalia's discontent:  
Which long being lost to all delight, at length  
Revives again his Friends recovered strength.  
They having now no Remora to stay  
Them here but what their gratitude did pay  
To his desires, whose Courtesy had made  
Those bonds of Love, with as much zeal obeyed,  
As those which duty locks, preparing are  
To take their leave, even in whose civil War  
Whilst they contend with Courtesies, as sent  
To rescue when his Eloquence was spent.  
Brave Amminander, with such hast as showed  
His speed to some supreme Injunction owed  
Such diligence, a Messenger brings in  
A Packet, which that noble Lord had been  
Too frequently acquainted with to fear  
Th' unseen Contents which opened did appear,  
A Mandate from his royal Master to  
Attend him ere the next days Beauties grew  
Deformed with Age, which honoured Message read  
To banish what Suspicion might have bred  
In's doubtful Friends, he the enclosed contents,  
With cheerful haste unto their view presents.  
Their fear thus cured by information, he  
That his appearance in the Court might be  
More glorious made by such Attendants to  
Incite in them a strong desire to view  
Those royal Pastimes, thus relates that story,  
Whose fatal truth transferred the Morea's glory  
So often thither. 'Twas my honoured friends  
My fate ('mongst some, that yet his Court attends)  
Then to be near my Prince, when what now draws  
Him to these parts did prove at once the cause  
Of joy and grief. Not far from hence removed,  
The Vale of Ceres lies, where his belov'd  
Pharonnida remains, a Lady that,  
Nature ordained for man to wonder at;  
She not being more the comfort of his age,  
Then glory of her Sex: but I engage  
Myself to a more large discovery, which,  
Thus take in brief, When Youth did first enrich  
Beauty with manly strength, his happy Bed  
Was with her royal Mother blest, who fed  
A flame of Virtue in her Soul, that lent  
Light to a Beauty, which being excellent,  
In its own Sphere, by that reflection shone,  
So heavenly bright, Perfections height of noon  
Dwelled only there; Some years had circled in  
Times revolutions, since they first had been  
Acquainted with those private pleasures that  
Attend a Nuptial Bed, ere she did at  
Lucina's Temple offer, whose barred Gate,  
Once open flow, both their good Angels sat  
In council for her safety, hopes of a Boy,  
To be Morea's Heir, fill high with joy  
The ravished Parents, Subjects did no less,  
In the loud voice of Triumph theirs express.  
But when the active pleasures of their love  
Which filled her Womb, had taught the Babe to move  
Within the mory Mount, preceding pains,  
Tell the fair Queen, that the dissolving Chains.  
Nature incosed it in, were grown so weak,  
That the imprisoned Infant soon would break  
Those slender Cuards, the gravest Ladies were  
Called to assist her, whose industrious care,  
Lend Nature all the helps of Art, but in  
Despair of safety send their Prayers to win  
Relief from Heaven, which swift Assistance lent,  
T' unload the Burden, but those Cordials sent,  
By Harbingers, with whom the fair Queen fled,  
To deck the silent dwellings of the dead,  
And lodge in Sheets of Lead, o'er which were cast  
A Coverlet of the Springs Infants past  
From life like her, even whilst Earth's teeming Womb,  
Promised the World, and not a silent Tomb,  
That beauteous Issue; But those Nymphs which spun  
Her thread of life the slender twine begun,  
Too fine to last long, undenied by  
The ponderous burden of Mortality;  
Beneath whose weight, she sinking now to death,  
Th' unhappy Babe was by the Mother's breath  
No sooner welcomed into life before  
She bids farewell, of Power to do no more,  
But whilst her Spirits with each word expires,  
Thus to her Lord express her last desires.  
Receive this Infant from thy dying Queen,  
Name her Pharonnida, at which word between  
His trembling Arms she sunk, and had even then  
Breathed forth her Soul, if not recalled again,  
By their loud Mournings from the Icy sleep,  
Which like a chilling Frost did softly creep,  
Through the cold Channels of her blood to bar  
The springs of life, in which defensive War,  
The hasty Summons sent by death allow,  
Her giddy Eyes, whose heavy leads did bow  
Toward everlasting slumber, no more light,  
Then what affords a dim Imperfect sight;  
Such as the troubled Optics being by,  
Dying Convulsions wrested, could let fly,  
Through their sullied Crystals to behold,  
Her woeful Lord, whilst she did thus unfold  
Her dying thoughts; O hear, O hear (quoth she) I do,  
By all our mutual Vows conjure thee to  
Let this sweet Babe, all thou hast left of me,  
Within thy Thoughts preserve my Memory.  
And since (poor Infant) she must lose her Mother,  
To beg an entrance here, oh let no other  
Have more Command o'er her then what may bear  
An equal poise with thy paternal Care.  
This, this is all that I shall leave behind,  
An earnest of our loves, here thou mayst find,  
Perhaps my Image to behold, whilst I  
Resolving into dust embraced do lie,  
By crawling Worms. Followers that Nature gave  
To attend Mortality, whilst the tainted Grave  
Is ripening us for Judgement: O my Lord,  
Death were the smile of Fate, would it afford  
Me time to see this Infant's growth, but oh,  
I feel Life's Cordage cracked, and hence must go  
From time and flesh, like a lost Feather fall  
From th' Wings of Vanity, forsaking all  
The various business of the World, to see  
What wondrous Change dwells in Eternity.  
This said, she faintly bids farewell, then darts  
An eager look on all, but ere she parts,  
Even whilst the breath, with which in thin Air slips  
Departing Spirits, on her then cold Lips  
In clammy Dews did hang, she of them takes  
Her last farewell, whilst her pure Soul forsakes  
Its brittle Cab'net, and those Orbs of light,  
That swum in death, sunk in eternal Night.  
Thus died the Queen, Pharonnida thus lost,  
Ere knew her Mother, when her Birth had cost,  
A price so great, that brought her Infancy  
In debt to Grief, until maturity  
Ripened her Age to pay it, after long  
And vehement lamentation, such whose strong  
Assaults had almost shaken his Soul into  
A flight from th' Earth, her Father doth renew  
His long lost Mirth, at the delight he took,  
In his Soul's Darling; whose each cheerful look,  
Crimsoned those Sables, which even whilst he wore  
A flood of Woes his head had silvered o'er:  
Had not this Comfort stopped them, which beguiles  
Sorrow of some few hours, those pretty smiles,  
●●at dressed her fair Cheeks like a gentle Thief,  
●●ealing his heart through all the Guards of Grief.  
〈◊〉 But when that time's expunging hand had more  
Defaced those sable Characters he wore  
〈◊〉 Sorrows Livery o'er his Soul, and she  
●●aving out-grown her tender Infancy,  
●●id now (her Thoughts composed of heavenly Seed)  
〈◊〉 guide her life no other Guardian need,  
〈◊〉 native Virtue, for her calm retreat,  
When burdened Corinth was with throngs replete:  
〈◊〉 chose this seat, whose venerable shade,  
Waving what blind Antiquity had made,  
●or sacred held, is not so slighted, bu●  
Custom ancient, as our Law, hath shut  
●ence (as the hateful marks of servitude)  
●ll that unbounded power did ere obtrude  
●n suffering Subjects, which, this happy place  
●its so serene a blessing to embrace,  
●s is this Lady, whose illustrious Court,  
Though now augmented by the full resort,  
Of her great Father's Train, doth still appear  
This happy Kingdom's brightest Hemisphere.  
A hundred noble Youths in Sparta bred,  
Of Valour high, as ere for Beauty bled,  
●ll loyal Lovers, and that Love confined  
Within the Court are for her Guard assigned.  
●ut what (if oft in such an Orb of all  
That's great, or good, may low as Censure fall)  
●he Court hath questioned, is the cause that moved  
The Prince to give a Party so beloved  
●nto his hands that leads them, being one  
Whose Birth excepted, that being near a Throne,  
Those Virtue's wants on whose Foundation wise  
Considerate Princes let their Favours rise.  
Like the abortive Births of Vapours by  
Their Male Progenitors enforced to fly  
Above the Earth their proper Sphere, and there  
Lurk in imperfect Forms, his Breast doth bear  
Some Seeds of Goodness, which the Soil too hot,  
With rank Ambition, doth in ripening rot.  
Yet, though from those that praise humility,  
He merits not, a dreaded power which he  
Far more applauds, raised on the Wings of's own  
Experienced Valour, hath so long been known  
His Foes pale terror, that 'tis feared he bends  
That Engine to the ruin of his friends,  
Whose equal Merits claim as much of Fame,  
As e'er was due to proud Almanzor's Name.  
Yet what may raise more strong desires to see,  
Her Court then Valours wished society,  
Is one unusual Custom, which the love  
Of her kind Father hath so far above  
All past Examples raised, that for the time  
He here resides, no Cause, although a Crime,  
Which death attends, but is by her alone  
Both heard and judged, he seeming to unthrone  
His active power, whilst Justice doth invest  
His beauteous Daughter, which to the oppressed,  
Whose hopes even shrunk into despair, hath in  
That harsh extreme their safe Asilum been:  
So that even those that feared the ' vent could now  
Mix their desires, the Custom would allow  
Her Reign a longer date. But that I may  
Illustrate this by a more full survey  
Of her excelling Virtues, no pretence,  
Of harsh employment shall command you hence,  
●●ll you have been Spectators of that Court,  
Whose Glories are too spacious for Report.  
The noble Youths beholding such a flame,  
Of Virtue shown them through the Glass of Fame,  
First gaze with wonder on it, which ascends  
Into desire, a Rivulet which ends,  
Not till its swelling streams had drawn them through  
All weak excuses, and engaged them to  
Attend on Ariamnes; when to show  
How much man's vain Intentions fall below  
Mysterious Fate, even in the height of all  
Their full Resolves, her Countermands thus call  
Back their Intentions, by a Summons that  
Th' uncertain World hath often trembled at.  
The late recovered Aphron, whether by  
Too swift a Cure, Life's springs being raised too high,  
●lowd to a dangerous Plethora, or where  
Some Cause occult the Humours did prepare  
For that malignant Ill, did, whilst he lay  
In tedious expectation of the day,  
Shaken with a shievering numbness, first complain,  
Through all his Limbs of a diffusive pain:  
Which searching each to find the fittest part,  
For its Contagion, on the labouring heart  
Fixes at length, which being with grief oppressed,  
By the extended Artries to the rest  
●th' body sends its flames, the poisoned blood  
Through every Vein streams in a burning flood.  
●is Liver broils, and his scorched stomach turns  
The Chile to Cinders; in each cold Cell burns  
The humid Brains. A violent Earthquake shakes  
The crackling Nerves, Sleeps balmy Daw forsakes  
The shrivelled Obticks; in which trembling fits,  
'Mongst tortured Senses troubled Reason sits  
So long oppressed with Passion, till at length,  
Her feeble Mansion, battered by the strength  
Of a Disease, she leaves to entertain  
The wild Chimaeras of a sickly Brain.  
And, what must yet to's Friends Affliction add,  
More weights of grief, their courteous haste which had  
Stayed to the latest step of time, must now  
Comply with those Commanders, which could allow  
No more delays, and leave Argalia to  
Be the sole Mourner for his Friend, which drew  
As far as humane Art could guests so near  
His end, that life did only now appear  
In thick, short sobs, those frequent summons that  
Souls oft forsake their ruin'd Mansions at.  
The end of the first Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The first Book. CANTO THE SECOND.  
The ARGUMENT.  

III.  
Whilst here Argalia in a calm Retreat,  
Allays the sorrow felt for's sickly Friend,  
Two blooming Virgins near him take their Seat,  
Whose harmless Mirth soon finds a hapless end.   

IV.  
The fairest seized on, and near ruined by  
Impeteous Lust, had not Andremon's speed  
Protected her, till from his fall drawn nigh  
The same sad Fate the brave Argalia freed.   
THat sad, slow hour, which Art even thought his last,  
With the sharp Feav'rs Paroxysm past  
Sick Aphron's Spirits to a cool reareat,  
Beneath a slumber (Life's remotest seat)  
Was gently stolen, which did so long endure,  
Till in that opiate quenched, the Calenture  
Decayed forsakes him, leaving nought behind,  
But such faint symptoms, as from ●ime might find  
An easy Cure, which though no perfect end  
Is lent to th' care of his indulgent Friend,  
Yet gives him so much liberty, that now  
Fear dares without his friendship's breach allow  
Sometime to leave him slumbering, whilst that he  
Contemplates Nature's fresh variety.  
The full blown beauties of the Spring were not  
By Summer Sunburnt yet, though Phoebus shot  
His Rays from Cancer, when prepared it expand  
Imprisoned thoughts, from Objects near at hand,  
To ey-shot Rovers, freed Argalia takes  
A Noon-tide walk, through a fair glade that makes  
Her aged Ornaments their stubborn head,  
Fold into verdant Curtains, which she spread  
In cooling shadows o'er the bottoms, where  
A crystal stream unfetterd by the care  
Of nicer Art, in her own Channel played,  
With the embracing Banks, until betrayed,  
Into a neighbouring Lake, whose spacious Womb,  
Looked at that distance like a crystal Tomb;  
Framed to inter the Naiads. Not far  
From hence an Oak, whose limbs defensive War,  
'Gainst all the Winds, a hundred Winters knew,  
Stoutly maintained, on a small rising grew,  
Under whose shadow whilst Argalia lies,  
This Object tempts his Soul into his Eyes.  
A pair of Virgin's fairer than the Spring,  
Fresher than Dews, that ere the glad Birds sing.  
The Morning's Carols drop, with such a pace,  
As in each act showed an unstudied grace,  
Crossing the Neighbouring Plain, were, now so near  
Argalia drew, that what did first appear  
But the neglected Object of his Ey,  
More strictly viewed, calls Fancy to comply,  
With so much love, that though no wilder fire  
Ere scorched his breast, he here learned to admire  
Loves first of symptoms. To a shady seat,  
Near that which he had made his cool retreat;  
Being come beneath a spreading Hawthorn they,  
Seating themselves, the sliding hours betray,  
From their short lives by such discourse as might  
Have made even time (if young) lament his flight.  
Retired Argalia, at the sight of these,  
Though no obsceaner vanity did please  
His Eyes, than Anch'rites are possessed with, when  
Numbering their Beads, or from a sacred Pen  
Distilling Heavens blest Oracles, yet he  
Wondering to find such sweet Civility  
Mixed with that places rudeness, long beholds  
That lovely pair, whose every act unfolds  
Such linked affections, as wise nature weaves  
In dearest Sisters, but their form bereaves  
That thought ere feathered with belief, although  
To admitation, beauty did bestow  
Her gifts on both, she had those darlings dressed,  
In various colours, what could be expressed  
By Objects fair, as new created light,  
By Roseal mixtures, with immaculate white,  
By Eyes that emblemd Heavens pure Azure, in  
The youngest Nymph, Florenza, there was seen;  
To which she adds Behaviour far more free,  
Although restrained to strictest modesty,  
Then the more sad Ca●ina, who, if there  
Were different years in that else equal Pair,  
Something the Elder seemed, her beauty such,  
As Jove-loved Leda's was not praised so much,  
For Rose or Lilies residence, though they  
Did both dwell there, as to behold the day  
Lose its Antipathy to Night, such clear  
And conquering Beams so full of light t' appear  
Through her Eyes, showed like a Diamond set,  
To mend its Lustre in a foil of Jet.  
Nor doth their dress of Nature differ more  
In colour, than the Habits which they wore;  
Though fashioned both alike, Floronza's green,  
As the fresh Spring when her first Buds are seen,  
To clothe the naked Boughs: Carinas white  
As Innocence, before she takes a flight,  
In thought from cold Virginity. Their Hair  
Wreathed in contracting Curls, beneath a fair  
But often parting Veil, attempts to hide  
The naked Ivory of their Necks, that pride  
Of Beauty's Frontispiece. On their heads sat  
Lovely, as if unto a Throne of State;  
From their first Earth advanced, two flowery Wreaths,  
From whose choice mixture in close Concord breathes  
The fragrant Odour of the Fields, placed by  
Them in such order, as Antiquity  
Mysterious held: Being sat, to pass away  
Th' unactive heat of the exalted day,  
They either tell old harmless Tales, or read  
Some story where forsaken Lovers plead  
Unpitied Causes, then betwixt a smile  
And Tear bewail Passion should ere beguile  
Poor Reason so, at length, as if they meant  
To charm him who far from each ill intent  
So near them lay, melting the various throng  
Of their Discourse, into a well-tuned Song;  
Whose swift division moulds the Air into  
Such Notes, as did the Spheres first tunes outdo.  
Argalia in this labyrinth of delight,  
To Action lost, had drawn the vail of Night,  
In quiet slumbers, o'er his heavy Eyes,  
Locked in whose Arms, whilst he securely lies  
Lest the mistakes of vain Mortality,  
The brittle Glass of Earth should take to be  
Perfections lasting Adamant, this sad  
Chance did unravel all their mirth; There had  
Some of the Prince's noblest Followers, in  
That Morning's nonage led by Pleasure been,  
Far from their Sphere, the Court, and now to shun  
Th' unhealthy Beams of the reflected Sun,  
Whilst it its shortest shadows made, were to  
The cool protection of the Woods withdrew:  
In which retreat, as if conducted by  
Their evil Genius (all his Company  
An awful distance keeping) none but proud  
Almanzor in those guilty Groves, which shroud  
The hapless Virgins enters, who so near  
Him sitting, that, soon his informing Ear  
Thither directs his Eye, unto his view  
Ere scarce thought obvious swiftly they withdrew  
But with untimely haste, his Soul that nursed  
Continual flames within it, at the first  
Sight kindles them, ere he discovers more,  
Then difference in the Sex, such untried ore,  
Hot, heedless lust, when made by practice bold,  
Ith' flame of passion venter's on for Gold.  
But when drawn nearer to the place he saw  
Such beauties whose magnetic form might draw  
Souls steeled with Virtue, custom having made  
His impious Rhetoric ready to invade,  
He towards them hast, with such a pace as might  
Excuse their judgements, though, in open flight,  
They strove to shun him, but in vain, so near  
Them now he's drawn, that the effects of fear  
Obscuring reason, as if safety lay  
In separation, each a several way  
From danger flies, but since both could not be,  
By that secure, whilst her blessed stars do free  
The glad Carina, from his reach the other  
He swiftly seizes on; hot kisses smother  
Her out-cries in the Embryo, and to death  
Near crushed Virginity, ere from lost breath  
She could a stock of strength enough recover,  
To spend in prayers; the tempting of a Lover,  
Mixed with the force of an adulterer, did  
At once assail, and with joined powers forbid  
All hopes of safety; only, whilst despair  
Looked big in apprehension, whilst the Air  
Breathed nought but threatening, promising him to pay  
For't in her answers, she doth lust betray  
Of some few minutes, which with all the power  
Of prayer she seeks to lengthen, sheds a shower  
Of tears, to quench those flames, but sooner might  
Hell's sooty Lamp extinguished be, the sight  
Of such a fair, but pitiful aspect,  
When Lust assails, wants power to protect.  
By this hot parley, whilst she strove to shun  
His loathed embraces, the thronged Spirits run  
To fortify her Heart, but vainly seek  
For entrance there, being back into her Cheek  
Sent in disdainful blushes; now she did  
Entreat Civility, then sharply chid  
His blushless impudence; but he whose skill  
In Rhetoric was pregnant to all ill,  
Though barren else, summons up all the choice  
Of Eloquence, that might produce a Voice  
To win fair Virtue's Fortress, though her chaste  
Soul armed against those battering Engines past  
That Conflict without danger, when enraged,  
By being denied, with passion that presaged  
A dangerous Cons'quence, his fierce eyes sixth  
On hers, that melting with pale terror mixed  
Floods with their former flames, her souls sad doubt  
He thus resolves. Unworthy Whore, that out  
Of hate to Virtue dost deny me what  
Thou freely grantst to every rude Swain that  
But courts thee in a Dance. Think not these tears  
Shall make me wave a pleasure, that appears  
Worth the receiving. Can your sordid Earth  
Be honoured more than in the noble Birth  
Of such a Son as, wouldst thou yield to love,  
Might call thee Mother, and hereafter prove,  
The glory of your Family, from Jove,  
The noblest Mortals heretofore that strove  
To fetch their Pedigree, thought it no stain,  
So to be illegitimate, as vain  
Is this in thee, there being as great an Odds  
' Twixit you and u●, as betwixt us and Gods?  
Trembling Florenza, on her bended knees  
Thus answers him; That dreadful power that sees  
All our disvelloped thoughts, my withess be  
You wrong my Innocence: I yet am free  
From every thought of Lust. I do confess  
Th' unfathomd distance 'twixt our Births, but less  
That will not make my sin, it may my shame  
The more, when my contaminated Name  
Shall in those ugly Characters be shown,  
To the World's public view, that now is known  
By th' blush of honesty, whose stile, though poor,  
Exceeds the Titles of a glorious Whore;  
Attended whilst Youth doth unwitherd last,  
With envied greatness, but frail beauty passed  
Into a swift decay, assaulted by  
Rotteness within, and black mouthed Calumny,  
Without, cast off, blushing for guilt, the scorn  
Of all my Sex. My Mother would unborn  
Wish her degenerate Issue, my Father curse  
The hour he got me. As Infection worse  
Than mortal Plagues, each Virgin that hath nought  
To glory in, but what she with her brought  
Into the World, an unstained Soul, would fly  
The Air I breath; cast Whores being Company  
For none but Devils, when corrupted vice  
A Wilderness makes Beauty's Paradise.  
To this much ill, dim eyed Mortality  
A prospect lends; but what, oh what should be  
When we must sum up all our time in one  
Eternal day, since to our thoughts unknown,  
Is only feared. But if our hallowed Laws  
Are more than Fables, th' everlasting Cause  
'Twill of our torment be. If all this breath  
Formed into Prayers, no entrance finds, my death  
Shall buy my Virgin-freedome, ere I will  
Consent to that, which being performed will kill  
My honour to preserve my life, and turn  
Th' unworthy beauty which now makes you burn  
In these unhallowed flames into a Cell,  
Which none but th' black Inhabitants of Hell  
Will ere possess. Those private thoughts which give  
If we continue virtuous, whilst we live  
On Earth, our Soul's commerce with Angels, shall  
Be turned to Furies, if we yield to fall  
Beneath our Vices thus, O then take heed  
Do not defile a Temple, such a deed  
Will, when in labour with your latest breath,  
With horror Curtain the black Bed of death.  
Though Prayers in vain strove to divert that Crime,  
He prosecutes, yet to protract the time,  
She more had said, had not all Language been  
Lost in a storm of is Lust, which raging in  
His fury gives a fresh assault unto  
Weak Innocence, for Mercy now to sue  
To hope seems vain, robustious strength did ba●  
The use of Language, which defensive War  
Continuing till the breathless Maid was wrought  
Almost beneath resistance, just Heaven brought  
This unexpected Aid. A lovely Swain  
Whose large Possessions in the neighbouring Plain,  
Had styled him rich, that powerful, which t' improve,  
To that fair stock his virtue, added love,  
Which to flattery, since it lost its eyes,  
The world but seldom sees without disguise.  
This sprightly Youth led by the parallels  
Of Birth, and Fortune, what ere else excels  
Those fading blessings, to Florenza in  
His Youths fresh April, had devoted been  
With so much zeal, that what that heedless age  
But dallied with, like Customs which engage  
Themselves to habits, ere its growth he knew,  
Love equal with his active manhood grew,  
Which noble Plant though in the torrid Zone  
Of her disdain, 't had ne'er distemper known,  
Yet oft those sad vicissitudes doth find,  
For which none truly loved, that ne'er had pined,  
Which pleasing passion, though his judgement knew  
How to divert, ere reason it out-grew,  
It often from important action brought  
Him to those shades, where Contemplation sought  
Calm solitude, in whose soft raptures, Love  
Refining Fancy, lifts his thoughts above  
Those joys, which when by trial brought to th' test,  
Proves thoughts bright Heaven, dull Earth when once possessed  
Whilst seated here, his eyes did celebrate,  
(As to those shade,) Florenza oft had sat  
Beneath kind looks, to ravish that delight,  
The tired Ca●ina in her breathless flight,  
Come near the place, assaults his wonder in  
That dreadful sound, which tells him what had been  
Her cause of fear, which doleful stories end,  
Arrived to th' danger of his dearest Friend,  
Leaves him no time for language, ere winged by  
Anger, and Love, his haste strives to outfly  
His eager thoughts. Being now arrived so near  
Unto the place, that his informing Ear,  
Thither directs his steps, with such a haste,  
As nimble souls when they are first uncased,  
From bodies sly, he thither speeds, and now  
Being come, where he beheld with horror how  
His better Angel injured was, disputes  
Neither with fear nor policy (they're Mutes  
When Angers thunder roars) but swiftly draws  
His Falchion, and the justice of his Cause,  
Argues with eager strokes, but spent in vain,  
'Gainst that unequal strength, which did maintain  
The more unlawful, all his power could do,  
Is but to show the effects of Love unto  
Her he adored, few strokes being spent before  
His feeble Arm, of power to do no more,  
Faints with the loss o● blood, and letting fall  
Th' ill-managed Weapon, for his death doth call  
By the contempt of mercy, so to prove  
A Sacrifice, slain to Florenza's Love.  
The cursed steel by the robustious hand  
Of fierce Almanzor guided, now did stand  
Fixed in his breast, whilst with a purple flood,  
His life soils forth i'th' Channel of his blood.  
This Remora removed, the impious deed  
No sooner was performed, but ere the speed  
Florenza made (though to her eager flight,  
Fear added wings) conveyed her from his sight:  
His rude hand on her seizes. Now in vain  
She lavished Prayers, the groans in which her slain  
Friend breathes his soul forth, with her shrieks did fill  
The ambient Air, struck lately with the still  
Voice of harmonious Music; But the Ear  
Of penetrated Heaven not long could hear  
Prayers breathed from so much innocence, yet send  
Them back denied, white Mercy did attend  
Her swift deliv'ry, when obstructing fear  
Through Reason let no Ray of hope appear▪  
Startled Argalia, who was courted by  
Her pleasing Voices milder Harmony,  
Into restrictive slumbers, wakened at  
Their Altered Tone, hast to discover what  
Had caused that change, and soon the place attains.  
Where in th' exhausted treasuce of his Veins  
Andremon wallows, and Florenza lies,  
Bathed in her tears, ready to sacrifice  
Her Life with her Virginity, which sight  
Provoked a haste, such as his presence might  
Protect the trembling Virgin, which perceived,  
By cursed Almanzor made to be bereaved  
Oth' Spoils of such a wicked Victory,  
As Lust had then near conquered, fiercely he  
Assails the noble stranger, who detesting,  
An Act so full of Villainy, and resting  
On the firm justice of his Cause, had made  
His guiltless Sword as ready to invade,  
As was the others that had surfeited,  
In blood before. Here equal Valour bred  
In both a doubtful hope, Almanzor's Lust  
Had fired his Courage, which Argalias just  
Attempts did strive to quench. The thirsty steel  
Had drunk some blood from both, ere Fortunes Wheel  
Turned to the righteous Cause; that Vigour which  
Through rivulets of Veins spread the salt Itch  
〈◊〉 feverish Lust before, was turned into  
〈◊〉 flame of anger ● whilst his hands did do,  
What Rage doth dictate, Fury doth assist,  
With flaming Paroxysms, and each Nerve twist,  
Into a double strength: yet not that flood  
Which in this ebullition of his blood  
Did through the Channels boil, till they run o'er.  
With flaming spirits, could depress that store  
Of manly worth, which in Argalias breast  
Did with a quiet even Valour rest;  
Moving as in its natural Orb, unstraind  
〈◊〉 any violent motion, nor yet chained  
By lazy damps of faint mistrust, but in  
Dangers extreme, still confident to win  
A noble Victory, or i'th' loss of breath,  
I● his Fate frowned to find an honoured death.  
Filled with these brave Resolves, until the heat  
Of their warm Fury, had Alarms beat.  
〈◊〉 th' neighbouring fields they fought, which tumult by  
Such of Almanzor's Followers, as were nigh  
The Grove reposed, with an astonishment,  
That rouzd them heard, they hasten to prevent,  
The sad effects that might this Cause ensue.  
●re more of danger then their fear they knew;  
Arrived even with that fatal Minute, he  
Who against Justice strove for Victory,  
With such faint strokes, that their descent did give  
●ought but assurance that his Foe must live,  
〈◊〉 happy Conqueror, they usurp the power  
〈◊〉 Heaven (revenge) and in a dreadful shower  
〈◊〉 danger with their Fury's torrent strive,  
〈◊〉 orewhelm the Victor; but the foremost drive  
Their own destruction on, and fall beneath  
His conquering Sword, ere he takes time to breathe  
Those spirits which, when near with Action ti●'d,  
Valour breathed fresh, fast as the spent expired.  
Here rash Araspes, and bold Leovine,  
Two, whose descent i'th' nearst collateral Line,  
Unto Almanzor's stood, beholding how  
His strength decayed, must unto Conquest bow,  
In spite of Valour, to revenge his fate,  
With so much hast attempt, as if too late  
They'd come to rescue, and would now to shun  
'tis just reproof, by rashness strive to run  
To death before him, finding from that Sword  
Their Life's discharge, which did to him afford  
Only those wounds, whose fears must live to be  
The badges of eternal Infamy.  
But here o'erwhelmed by an nnequal strength,  
The noble Victor soon to th' utmost length,  
Had life's small thread extended, if not in  
The dawn of hope, some troops whose charge had been,  
Whilst th' active Gentry did attend the Court,  
To free the Country from the feared Resort  
Of wild Bandeets, these being directed by  
Such frighted Rurals, as employment nigh  
The Grove had led, arriving at that time,  
When his slain Foes made the mistaken Crime  
Appear Argalias, soon by power allay  
That fatal storm, which done, a full survey  
Of them that death freed from distress being took,  
Them through whose wounds life had not yet forsaken,  
Her Throne they view, 'mongst whom through the disguise  
O●'s blood Almanzor, whose high power they prize  
More then discovered Innocence, being found,  
As Justice had by close decree been bound,  
T' espouse his quarrels, whilst his friends convey  
Him safely thence, those ponderous Crimes they lay  
Unto Agalias Charge, whose just defence,  
Pleads but in vain, for injured innocence.  
Now near departing, whilst his helpful friends,  
Bore off Almanzor, where he long attends  
The cure of's wounds, though they less torment bred,  
Then to behold how his lost honour bled;  
The sad Florenza comes to take her last  
Leave of her lost Andremon, ere she passed  
That sad stage o'er, to his cold clammy Lips  
Joining her balmy Twins, she from them sips,  
So much of deaths oppressing Dews, that by  
That touch revived his soul, though winged to fly  
Her ruin'd seat, taketh time enough to breathe  
These sad notes forth; farewell my Dear, beneath  
The ponderous burden of mortality,  
My fainting spirits sink. Oh mayst thou be,  
Blest in a happier Love; all that I crave,  
Is that my now departing soul may have  
Thy Virgin prayers for her Companions through  
Those gloomy Vaults, which she must pass unto  
Eternal shades; had Fate assigned my stay,  
Till we'd together gone, the horrid way  
Had then been made delightful, but I must  
Depart without thee, and convert to dust,  
Whilst thou art flesh and blood; I in a cold  
Dark U●ne must lie, whilst a warm Groom doth hold  
Thee in thy Nuptial bed, yet there I shall,  
If fled souls know what doth on earth befall,  
Mourn for thy loss, and to eternity  
Wander alone; the various World shall be  
Refined in flames, time shall afford no place  
For Vanity, ere I again embrace  
Society with flesh, which ere that must  
Change to a thousand forms her varied dust.  
What we shall be, or whither we shall go,  
When gone from hence, whether unto flames below,  
Or joys above, or whether in death we may  
Know our departed friends, or tell which way  
They went before us, these, oh these are things  
That pauze our Divinity; Sceptered Kings,  
And Subjects die alike, nor can we tell,  
Which doth enjoy, or which in torments dwell.  
Oh sad, sad ignorance, Heaven guide me right,  
Or I shall wander in eternal Night;  
To whose dark shades my dim eyes sink apace:  
Farewell Florenza, when both time and place,  
My separated Soul hath left to be  
A stranger masked in Immortality.  
Think on thy murdered friend, we now must part  
Eternaly, the Cordage of my heart  
That last sigh broke, with that the breath that long  
Had hoverd in his Breast, flew with a strong  
Groan from that mortal Mansion, which beheld  
By such of's friends, whom Courtesy compelled  
To that sad Charge, the bloodless body they  
With sad slow steps to's Father's home convey.  
The end of the second Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The first Book. CANTO THE THIRD.  
The ARGUMENT.  

V.  
The brave Argalia, who designed to raise  
Through all approaching ills his weighty Fate,  
In smooth Compliance that harsh Guard obeys  
Who towered his death did prosecute their hate:   

VI.  
To death, which here unluckily had stained,  
Maugre his friends, the ill directed Sword  
Of Justice, had not secret love obtained  
More mercy than the strict Laws dare afford.   
LOw in a fruitful Pasture, where his Flocks  
Cloud with their breath those Plains, whose levy lock▪  
Could hardly shadow them, though Meadows need  
No shearing, where in untold Droves did feed  
His bellowing Herds, of which enough did come,  
Each day to's Yoke to serve a Hecatomb;  
Lay old And●en●ons Country Farm, in which  
(Happy till now) being made by Fortune rich,  
And Goodness honest, from domestic strife,  
Still calm and free, the upper Robes of Life;  
Till withered he had worn, to ease whose sad  
And sullen Cares, less bounteous Nature had  
Lent him no numerous Issue, all he'd won  
By prayer confined unto this murdered Son:  
The blasted Blossom of whose tender age,  
When blooming first, taught Hope how to presage  
Those future Virtues, which interpreted  
By Action had such fruitful Branches spread,  
That all indulgent Parents wished to be  
Immortalized in blessed Posterity,  
Had seen in him, whose innocently good,  
Still let his Heart by's Tongue be understood,  
In such a sacred Dialect, that all  
Which verged within deliberate thought did fall,  
Towards Heaven was graced, and in descent did prove  
To's Parents Duty, and to's Neighbours Love.  
This hopeful Youth, their Ages chief support,  
Whose absence though by's own desires made short;  
Their Love thought tedious, having now expired  
His usual hours, the aged Couple tired  
With expectation, to anticipate  
His slow appearance to their Mansions Ga●e;  
Where softly walked, where coolly shadowed by  
An Elm, which planted at his Birth did vie  
Age with his Lord, whilst their desires pursue  
Its first design, they with some pleasure view  
Their busy Servants, whose industrious pain  
Sweats out Diseases in pursuit of gain.  
All which, although the chiefest pleasure that  
Their thoughts contain, whose best are busied at  
The Mart o'th' World, such small diversion lent  
The aged pair, that his kind Mother spent,  
With a too long protracted hope had let  
Even that expire, had not his Father set  
Props to that weakness, and that mutual fear,  
Which filled their breasts, let his sound Judgement clear  
By the proposing Accidents that might  
Untouchd detain their Darling from their sight.  
But many Minutes had not left their seals,  
On the Records of Time, ere truth reveals  
Her horrid secrets. A confused noise  
First strikes their Ears, which suddenly destroys  
Its own imperfect Embrioes', to transfer  
Its Object to that nearer Messenger  
Oth' Soul, the Eyes whose beamy Scouts convey  
A trembling fear into their Souls, whilst they  
That bore their murdered Son, arrived to tell  
Their doleful M●ssage, which so fierce storm fell  
Not long in those remoter drops, before  
Swelled to a Deluge, the swift Torrent bore  
The bays of Reason down, and in one flood  
Drowned all their hopes, when purpled in his blood  
Yet pale with death, untimely Death, she saw  
Her hopeful Son, grief violates the Law  
Of slower Nature, and his Mother's tears  
In death congeals to Marble, her swollen fears,  
Grown for her Sex a burden far too great  
Had only left death for her dark retreat.  
Although from griefs so violent effects,  
Reason conjoined with manly strength protects  
His wretched Father, at that stroke his Limbs  
S●ack their unwieldy Nerves, faint sorrow dims  
His Eyes more than his Age, his hands bereft  
His hoary head of all that time had left  
Unplucked before, nor had th' expecting Grave,  
Gaped longer for him, if they than had gave  
His passion freedom, his own guilty hand  
Had broke the Glass, and shook that little Sand  
That yet remained, into thin Air, that so  
Uncloged with earth, his tortured Ghost might go  
Beyond that Orb of Atoms that attend  
Mortality, and at that journeys end,  
Meet theirs soon, as swift Destiny inrouls  
Those new● come Guests within the sphere of Souls.  
By these sad symptoms of infectious grief,  
Those best of friends that came for the relief  
Of sorrows Captives, being by that surprised  
They hoped to conquer, sadly sympathizd  
With him in woe, till th' epedemick Ill,  
Stifling each Voice, dressed sorrow in a still  
And dismal silence, in which sad aspect,  
None needing Robes, or Cypress to detect  
A Funeral March, each dolefully attends  
To deaths dark Mansion, their lamented friends,  
Where having now the earthy Curtain drawn  
O'er their cold Bed, till Doomsdaies' fatal dawn,  
Rally their dust they, leave them, and retire  
To sorrow, which can ne'er hope to expire  
In just revenge, since kept by fear in aw●  
Where power offends, the poor scarce hope for Law,  
By sad example to confirm this truth,  
From innocent and early hopes of youth;  
Led towered destruction, let's return to see  
That noble stranger, whose captivity,  
Like an unlucky Accident depends  
On this sad subject. By the angry friends  
Of those accused, which in that fatal strife,  
To death resigned the Charter of their life,  
He's brought unto the Prince's Palace, where  
That age, whose Customs knew not how to bear  
Such Sails, as these have filled with pride, was placed  
The seat of Justice, whose stern Sword defaced  
Not pleasures smoothest Front, since now 'twas by  
Her fair hand guided, whose commanding eye,  
If armed with Anger, seemed more dreadful than  
The harshest Law ere made by wrathful men.  
Here strictly guarded, till th' important Crime  
Which urged her to anticipate the time,  
By Custom known, had called her forth to that  
Unwilling Office: still unstartled at  
The frowns of danger, did Argalia lie  
An injured Captive, till commanded by  
The stern Reformers of offended Law,  
He hasts to th' Bar, where come, though death ne'er saw  
A Brow more calm, or Breast more confident,  
To meet his Darts: yet since the innocent  
Are stained with guilt, when in contempt of Fate,  
They silent fall, he means to meet their hate,  
With all that each Beholder could expect,  
From dying Valour, when 't had to protect  
An envied stranger left no more defence,  
But what their hate obscures, his Innocence,  
The clamorous friends of Aphron, backed by those  
Which knew his death the only mean to close  
Almanzor's bleeding honour, to the fair  
And pitiful Pharonnida repair,  
With cries of Vengeance, whose unwelcome sound  
She by her Father's strict command was bound  
To hear, since that those rivulets of Law,  
Which from the Sea of regal power did draw  
Their several streams, all flowed to her, and in  
That crystal Fountain pure as they had been  
From Heaven dispensed, ere just Astrea fled  
The Earth remained, yet such aversion bred  
In her soft soul, that to these Causes where  
The Law sought blood, slowly as those that bear  
The weight of Gild, she came, whose dark Text she  
Still Comments on with noble Charity.  
High mounted on an Ebbon Throne, in which,  
Th' embellished Silver showed so sadly rich,  
As if its varied form strove to delight  
Those solemn souls, which Deaths pale fear did fright;  
In Tyrian Purple clad, the Princess sat,  
Between two sterner Ministers of Fa●e,  
Impartial Judges, whose distinguished tasks  
Their varied habits to the view unmasks,  
One, in whose looks, as pity strove to draw  
Compassion in the Table●s of the Law,  
Some softness dwelled in a magestick Vest  
Of statelike red was clothed, the other dressed  
In dismal black, whose terrible Aspect,  
Declared his Office, served but to detect  
Her slow consent, if when the first forsook  
The Cause, the Law so far as death did look.  
Silence proclaimed, a harsh Command calls forth  
Th' undaunted Prisoner, whose excelling wrath,  
In this low ebb of Fortune did appear,  
Such as we fancy, Virtues that come near  
The excellence of Angels; fear had not  
Rifled one drop of blood, nor rage begot  
More colour in his Cheeks, his soul in state,  
Throned in the Medium, constant Virtue sat  
Not slighting with the impious Atheists, that  
Loud storm of danger, but safe anchor at  
Religious hope, being firmly confident,  
Heaven would relieve, whom Earth knew innocent.  
All thus prepared, he hears his wrongful Charge,  
(Envy disguizing injured Truth) at large,  
Before the people, in such Language read,  
As checked their hopes, in whom his worth had bred  
Some seeds of pity, and to those whose hate  
Pursued him to this Precipice of Fate,  
(Dead Aphron's friends) such an advantage gave,  
That Providence appeared too weak to save,  
One so assaulted; yet, though now depressed,  
Even in opinion, which oft proves the best  
Support to those, whose public Virtues we  
Adore, before their private guilt we see▪  
His noble Soul still wings itself above  
Passions dark Fogs, and like that prosperous Dove,  
The World's first Pilot, for discovery sent,  
When all the floods that bound the Firmament,  
O'erwhelmed the Earth, Conscience calm joys t' increase,  
Returns fraight with the Olive Branch of Peace.  
Thus fortified from all, that tyrant fear  
E'reawed the Guilty with, he doth appear,  
The Courts just wonder in the brave defence  
Of what, though power, armed with the strong pretence  
Of right opposed, so prevalent had been,  
T' have cleared him, if, when near triumphing in  
Victorious truth to cloud that glorious Sun,  
Some faithless Swains, by large Rewards being won  
To spot their souls, had not corrupted by  
His Foes been brought, falsely to justify,  
Their Accusations, which beheld by him  
Whose knowledge now did hopes clear Optics dim;  
He ceased to plead, justly despairing then,  
That Innocence 'mongst Mortals rested, when  
Banished her own Abode; so thinks it vain  
To let truths naked Arms strive to maintain  
The Field 'gainst his more powerful Foes; not all  
His Virtues now protect him, he must fall  
A guiltless Sacrifice, to expiate  
No other Crime, but their envenomed hate.  
An ominous silence, such as oft precedes  
The fatal sentence, whilst th' Accuser reads  
His Charge, possessed the pitying Court, in which  
Presaging Calm, Pharonnida too rich  
In mercy (Heavens supreme Prerogative)  
To stifle tears did with her passion strive  
So long, till what at first assaulted in  
Sorrows black Armour had so often been  
For pity cherished, that at length her eyes  
Found there those Spirits that did sympathise  
With those that warmed her blood, and unseen move  
That Engine of the World, mysterious Love,  
The way that Fate predestinated, when  
'twas first infused i'th' Embryo, it being then  
That which espoused the active form unto  
Matter, and from that passive being drew,  
Divine Ideas, which subsisting in  
Harmonious Nature's highest sphere, do win  
In the perfection of our Age, a more  
Expansive power, and Nature's common store  
Still to preserve, unites Affections by  
The mingled Atoms of the serious eye.  
Whilst Nature's Priest, the cause of each effect,  
Miscal'd Disease endeavour to detect  
Its unacquainted operations in  
The beauteous Princess, whose free soul had been  
Yet guarded in her Virgin Ice, and now  
A stranger is, to what she doth allow  
Such easy entrance, by those Rays that fall  
From either's eyes, to make reciprocal  
Their yielding passions, brave Argalia felt  
(Even in the grasp of death) his Functions melt  
To flames, which on his heart an onset make,  
For sadness such as weaker Mortals take  
Eternal farewells in, yet in this high  
Tide of his blood, in a soft calm to die;  
His yielding Spirits, now prepare to meet  
Death, clothed in thoughts, white as his winding sheet.  
That fatal doom, which unto Heaven affords  
The sole Appeal, one of th' assisting Lords  
Had now pronounced, whose horrid thunder could  
Not strike his Laureld Brow, that Voice which would  
Have putrified, a timorous Soul he hears  
With calm attention, no disordered fears  
Ruffled his Fancy, nor domestic War  
Raged in his breast, his ●v'ry look so far  
From vulgar passions, that, unless amazed  
At Beauty's Majesty he sometimes gazed  
Wildly on that, as Emblems of more great  
Glories then earth afforded, from the seat  
Of resolution, his fixed soul had not  
Been stirred to passion, which had now begot  
Wonder, not fear within him. No harsh frown  
Contracts his Brow, nor did his thoughts pull down  
One fainting spirit, wrapped in smothered groans,  
To clog his heart. From her most eminent Thrones  
Of Sense, the Eyes, the lightning of his Soul  
Flew with such vigour, forth it did control  
All weaker passions, and at once include,  
With Roman Valour, Christian Fortitude.  
Pharonnida, from whom the rigid Law  
Extorts his Fate, being now enforced to draw  
The longest Line she ere could hope to move  
Over his Face, that beauteous sphere of Love,  
Unto its great'st obliquity, she leaves  
Him in his winter solstice, and bereaves  
Love's Hemisphere of light, not hear, yet oft  
Retreating wished those Stars Fare placed aloft  
In the first Magnitude of Honour might  
Prove retrograde, so their contracted light  
Might unto him part of their Influence  
In Life bestow, Passion would fain dispense  
So far with Reason, to recall again  
The sentence she had passed, but hoped in vain,  
Those false suggestions moves, his jailers are  
Th' undaunted Prisoner hurrying from the Bar;  
His fair Judge rising, the corrupted Court  
Upon removing, all the ruder sort  
Of Hearers rushing out, when through the throng,  
Kind Ariamnes (being detained so long  
By strict Employment comes) at whose request,  
The Court their Seats resuming, he addressed  
Himself to th' Princess, in a Language that  
Whilst all Argalias Foes were storming at,  
Even on her Justice so prevails, that he  
Reprieved, till all, hope could produce to free  
Her Love's new care might be examined by  
His active Friend, who now being seated nigh  
Pharonnide, whilst all attentive sat;  
The stranger's story doth at large relate.  
Pleased at this full relation, ne'er as much  
As grieved to see those Jewels placed in such  
A course cheap Metal, which could never hold  
The least proportion with her regal Gold.  
Pharonnida had now removed, if not  
Thus once more stayed, the Rumour first bego●;  
From this sad truth, had with the common haste,  
Of Ill arrived, where his Disease had placed  
Aphron, whose Ears assaulted now with words  
Of more infection than that Plague affords  
Room for the stronger Passion: though offended,  
To leave a hold it had, at first intended  
To keep till ruined, the imprisoned blood,  
And spirits are unfetterd, by that flood  
To wash usurping grief from off that part  
Where most she reigned, but they drawn near the heart,  
And finding Enemies too strong to be,  
Encountered mix in their society;  
Which thus supplied with Auxiliaries in  
Contempt of weakness, when he long had been  
Languishing underneath a tedious Load  
Of sickness, sends him from his safe Abode;  
'Mongst dangers which in deaths black shape attend  
His bold design, to seek his honoured Friend.  
Come on the spur of passion to the Court,  
A flux of Spirits from all parts resort,  
To prompt his anger, which abruptly broke  
Forth in this Language. Do not Sirs, provoke  
A foreign power thus far (I speak to you,  
That have condemned this stranger) as to do  
An Act so opposite to all the Law,  
Of Nations, here within your Realm to draw  
Blood that's so near allied unto the best  
Of an adjacent State. If this request  
Of mine, too full of insolence appear,  
We are Spirits nobly born, and near  
Enough to have't, whatever Crime's the Cause  
Of this harsh sentence, tried by our own Laws.  
This bold Opposer of stern Justice, here  
Pausing to see what Clouds there did appear  
In that fair Heaven, whose influence only now  
Could light to's friends declining Stars allow,  
To free the troubled Court, which struggled i●  
A strange Dilemma had commanded been,  
To a more large discovery, if not by  
His pitying Friend, discharged in a reply,  
Doubting how far inregular boldness had  
Provoked just wrath, Argalia thus unclad  
Amezements dark disguise. To you that a●  
This Court (with that knelt to Pharonnida)  
I now for Mercy flee, that scorn to run  
From my own doom, so I might have begun  
The doubtful task alone, but here to leave  
My Friend from whom your Justice did receive  
This bold Affront in danger, is a Crime  
That not approaching death, which all my time  
Too little for repentance calls, can be  
A just excuse for, let me then set free  
His person with your doubts, and joined to those  
What both their varied stories may compose.  
For what this noble Lord, whose goodness we,  
First found in needful hospitality,  
From him hath differed him, impute it not  
To either's error, both Reports begot  
From such mistakes, as Nature made to be  
The careful Issues of Necessity;  
That fatal difference, whose Vestigia stood  
Where we Epiciae left fresh filled with blood;  
By league so lately with Calabria made,  
Being composed, that Fame did not invade  
Our Ears with the report, till we had been  
By a disguise secured, which shaded in  
Whilst fearing danger we ne'er thought to leave,  
Till safe at home; Thus what did first deceive  
Kind Aminander you have heard, and now  
Without the stein of boasting must allow  
Me leave to tell you, that we there have Friends,  
On whom the burden of a State depends,  
When to the Court just wonder, thus far he,  
With such unshaken confidence as we  
Pray on th' expanded wings of Faith, displayed  
His Soul's integrity, the Royal Maid,  
Whom a repent destiny had made  
His pitying Judge, endeavouring to evade  
That dooms harsh rigour, grants him a reprieve,  
Till thrice the Sun returning to relieve  
Night's drooping Sentinels had circled in  
So many days, in which short time to win  
The fair advantage of discovering truth,  
Old Aminander, active as fresh Youth  
In all Attempts of Charity, to know,  
From what black Spring those troubled streams did flow:  
Hasts toward Andremons, whi'st Pharonnida  
Active as he, toward all, whence she might draw  
A consequence of hope, lays speedy hold  
On this design, Commission'd to unfold  
Their Master's Love toward her, there long had been  
Ambassadors from the Epicote in  
Her Father's Court, whose Message though it might  
Wear Loves pure Robes, yet in her Reason's light,  
Seems so much stained with policy, that all  
Those blessings which the wise foresaw to fall,  
As Influence from that Conjunction, she  
Opposes as her stars malignity.  
Proud of this new Command, with such a haste,  
As those that fear more slow delays may waste  
Their precious time, th' Ambassadors attain  
The Princess Court, where come, though hope in vain,  
Only expect a speedy Audience, they  
That frustrated, are soon taught to betray  
More powerful passions; the first glance o'th' eye  
They on the Prisoners cast, kind sympathy,  
Proclaimed Love gave no leave for time to rust  
Their Memories, both the old Lords durst trust  
Eyes dimmed with tears, whilst their embraces give  
A sad assurance there did only live  
Their last and best of Comforts, which beheld,  
By those from whom kind pity had expelled  
All thoughts of the vindictive Law, they strive  
By all the power of Rhetoric to drive  
Those sad storms over, which good Office done,  
They each inform the Prince, which was the Son  
Of Nature, which Adoption, withal tell how  
By their persuasions moved, they did allow  
Them time to travel, which Disasters had  
So long protracted, for some years with sad  
And doubtful hopes, they had in vain expected  
Their wished return, but that their stars directed  
Their course so ill, as now near home to be  
O'ertaken with so sad a destiny;  
Since such a sorrow could be cured by none,  
They sadly crave the time to mourn alone.  
The end of the third Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The first Book. CANTO THE FOURTH.  
The ARGUMENT.  

VII.  
At length the Veil from the deluded Law  
with active Care by Aminander took,  
The startled Court in their own error saw  
How lovely truth did in Argalia look.   

VIII.  
The story of our Youth discovered, he  
His Merits yet in higher pitch to raise  
Morea's Prince doth from a danger free,  
Which unto death his noblest Lords betray.   
THat last sad Night, the rigid Law did give  
The late reprieved Argalia leave to live;  
Was now wrapped in her own obscurity,  
stolen from the Stage of Time, when light got free  
From his Nocturnal Prison summons all  
Almanzor's Friends, to see the longed for fall  
Oth' envied stranger, whose last hour was now  
So near arrived, faint hope could not allow  
So much of comfort to his powerfulst friend,  
As told her fears, she longer might suspend  
His fatal doom. Mournful Attendants on  
That serene Sufferer, all his friends are gone  
Unto the sable Scaffold that's ordained  
By the decree of Justice to be stained  
With guiltless blood, all sunk in grief, but she  
Whom by inevitable destiny,  
Doomed him to death, most deep. Dull sorrow reigns  
In her triumphant, sad and alone remains  
She in a Room, whose Windows prospect led  
Her Eye to th' Scaffold, whither from the Bed  
Where sorrow first had cast her, she did oft  
Repair to see him, but her passions soft  
Temper soon melting into Tears, denies  
Her Soul a passage through o'erflowing Eyes.  
Often she would in vain expostulate  
With those (two subtle) Sophisters that Sat  
Clothed in the Robes of Fancy, but they still  
O'erthrew her weaker Arguments, and fill  
Her Breast with Love and Wonder, passion gave  
Such fierce Assaults, no Virgin Vow could save  
Her Hearts surrender, she must love, and lose  
In one sad hour, thus grief doth oft infuse  
Those bitter 〈◊〉, where hidden poison dwell,  
In the smooth pleasures of swee● Oximel.  
Argalias friends that did this minute use,  
As if the last of mortal interviews  
Had now reversed their eyes, expecting nought  
But that strokes fall, whole fa●all speed had brought  
Him to eternal rest; when by a loud  
And busy tumult, as if death grown proud  
Expected triumphs, to divert their sight,  
They from the Scaffolds lofty station might  
Within the reach of an exalted Voice,  
Behold a Troop, who as the Leaders choice  
Confined to strait necessity, had there  
Enrolled all Comers, if of strength to bear  
Offensive A●mes, did first appear to be  
Some tumult dressed in the variety  
Of sudden rage, for here come headlong in  
A heard of Clowns, armed as they then had been  
From labour called, near them (well ordered ri●e)  
(As greatness strove no longer to divide  
Societies, (s●me Youths, brave as they had  
Been in the spoils of conquered Nations clad.  
This sudden Object, first obstructing all  
Their Courts proceedings, prompts their doubts to call  
Their absent Prince, who being too wise for fears  
Uncertain fixions, with such speed appears,  
As checks the tumult, when, to tell them who  
Had from their homes the frighted people drew,  
Ith' Van of a wel-orderd Troop rides forth  
Loved Aminander, whose unquestioned worth,  
That strong Attractive of the people's love,  
Exspunged suspicion; whilst his Troops did move  
With a commanded slowness to inform,  
Th' expecting Prince, from whence this sudden storm  
Contracted Clouds, he to his view presents  
Andremons' Friends, whose looks the sad contents  
Of sorrow, with a silent Oratory,  
Begs pity; whilst, he thus relates their story.  
That we (great Prince) we, whom a loyal fear  
To strict obedience prompts, dare thus appear  
Before your sacred Person, were a sin  
Mercy would blush to own, had we not been  
Forced to offensive Arms, by such a Cause  
As tore the Sceptre, regulated Laws,  
Forth of your royal hand, to vindicate  
This suffering stranger, whom a subtle hate,  
Not solemn Law, pursued. I here have brought  
Such Witnesses as have their knowledge bought,  
At the expense of all their joy, whom I  
Found so confined, as if their misery  
Were in their houses sepulcherd, a sad  
And general sorrow in one Dress had clad  
So many, that their only sight did prove  
Lost Virtue caused such universal love  
To free this noble Youth, whose Valour lent  
A late protection to this Innocent,  
But injured, Maid, they (unconstraind) had here  
Implored your Aid, had not too just a fear  
Caused from some Troops, raised by a wronged pretence  
Of your Commands checked their intelligence,  
With such illegal violence, that I  
Had shared their sufferings, if not rescued by  
These following Friends, whose rude Conjunction shows  
It was no studied plot did first compose  
So loose a body; but, lest it appear  
In me like envy, should I strive to clear  
This doubtful story, here are those (with that)  
Calls forth Andremons' Friends, instructed at  
The dearest price, which by discovering truth,  
Will not alone rescue this noble Youth,  
From falling ruin; but lest he retreat  
Into rebellion, force before this fear,  
A man whose power, the people thought had been  
To punish Vice, not propagate a sin.  
Having thus far passed toward discovery, here  
The grave Lord ceased, and that truth might appear,  
From its first fair Original, to her  
(Whose Virtue Heavens affected Messenger)  
Commands Attention, the more horrid part  
Of his relation leaves: And here vain Art  
Took on, and envy, to behold how far  
Thy strict Rules (which our Youths Afflictions are)  
Nature transcends, in a Discourse which she,  
With all the Flowers of Virgin modesty,  
Not Weeds of Rhetoric strewed; to hear her miss,  
Or put a blush for a Parenthesis,  
In the relating that uncivil strife,  
Which her sad Subject was, so near the life,  
Lim●s lovely Virtue, that that Copy whence,  
Ar● took those Graces, she doth si●ce dispense  
To th' best of women, fair Pharonnida,  
Ta●ght by that sympathy, which first did draw  
Those lovely Transcripts of her sel●, although  
Varied as much as humble Flowers that grow,  
Dispiersed in shady Deserts, are from tho●e  
That nice Art in enamelled Gardens shows,  
Yet like bright Planets, which communicate  
To Earth their Influence, from exalted state,  
She now descends, to cherish Virtue in  
Those lovely Nymphs, whose Beauties though they'd been  
Yet in the Country clouded from Report,  
Soon grow the praise, or envy of the Court.  
Emboldened by that gracious favour shown  
To these fair Nymphs, to prosecute their own  
Most just Complaints, Andremons wretched friends,  
With prayers perceive that Mercy which descends  
O'er all their sufferings, on th' expanded Wings  
Of noble pity, whose fair hand first brings  
Argalia from the sable Scaffold, to  
Meet those Rewards to his high Merits due,  
Not only in what deaths dark progress stays,  
But Life's best joy, an universal praise  
Acquired from just desert: Next she applies  
Herself to those poor burdened Souls, whose Eyes  
Look (even on Comforts) through their tears, the dead  
Andremons' Mourners, whose l●st Joy though fled  
For ever from those wintring Regions, yet  
As much received as sorrow would permi●,  
Souls so oppressed, the splendid Court they leave,  
With thankful prayers; And now, called to receive  
His sins reward Almanzor is, whose shame  
It's black Attendant, when by his ha●ed Name  
He'd oft been summoned, prompts him to deny  
That legal Call, which being an Act too high  
For a depending power to patronise,  
To shun feared Justice public doom, he flies  
His Prince's Mandates, an affront that sent  
Him to's desert, perpetual banishment.  
This Comet lost in clouds of Infamy,  
The Court which had too long been burdened by  
His injured power, with praises entertain  
Impartial Justice, whilst to call again  
Those pleasures which had in this interval  
Of Law been lost, the Prince convening all,  
That shared those sufferings, as the Centre whence  
Joy spread itself, to th' Courts circumference,  
Crowns all their wishes, which by that bright Star  
In Honour's Sphere, th' auspicious Princes are  
Exalted to their highest Orbs; her Love  
Unto Argalia, though it yet must move,  
As an unnoted Constellation, here  
Begins its Erae, which that might appear  
Without suspicion, she disguises in  
The public joy, which 'mongst those that had been  
His serious Mourners to participate  
That kind Epicote, who first taught his Fate,  
The way to Glory comes, to whom he now  
Was on those Knees Merit had taught to bow,  
With as much humble reverence, as if all  
The Weights of Nature made those burdens fall  
A Sacrifice to Love, fixed to implore  
Its constant Progress, but he needs no more  
For confirmation, since his Friend could move  
But the like joy, where Nature taught to love.  
Passions encounter, which too high to last,  
Into a calm of thankful prayers being past  
The Prince from the Portuguese seeks to know  
By what collateral streams he came to owe  
Such love unto a stranger, one that stood  
Removed from him i'th' Magnetisme of blood;  
Whom thus the Lord resolves, When blooming in  
The pride of Youth, whose varied Scenes did win  
Time on the Morning of my days, a while  
To taste the pleasures of a Summer's Smile,  
I left the Courts tumultuous noise, and spent  
Some happy time, blest with retired content,  
In the calm Country, where Arts curious hand,  
As Centre to a spacious Round of Land,  
Had placed a Palace, in whose lovely Dress,  
The City might admire the Wilderness,  
Yet though that ill Civility was in  
Her marble Circle; Nature's hand had been  
As liberal to the neighbouring Fields, and decked  
Each rural Nymph as gaudy, till neglect,  
Or slovenly Necessity had drawn  
Her Canvas Furroughs o'er their Vails of Lawn:  
Near this fair Seat, fringed with an ancient Wood,  
A fertile Valley lay, where scattered stood  
Some homely Cottages, the happy Seats  
Of labouring Swains, whose careful Toil completes  
Their wishes in obtaining so much Wealth,  
To conquer dire Necessity; firm health,  
Calm thoughts, sound sleeps, unstarted innocence,  
Softened their Beds, and when roused up from thence,  
Suppled their Limbs for Labour; amongst these,  
My loved Argalia, for till Fate shall please,  
His dim Stars to uncurtain, and salute  
His better Fortune, with each Attribute,  
Due to a nobler Birth, his Name must be  
Contracted unto that Stenography,  
Life's Scenes began, amongst his Fellows that  
There first drew breath, being true Heirs to what  
Whilst all his Stars were retrograde, and dim,  
Unlucky Fortune, but adopted him;  
Whilst there residing, I had oft beheld  
The active Boy, whose Childhoods Bud excelled  
More full blown Youths, gleaning the scattered Loc●●  
Of new-shorn Fields, amongst the half-clad Flocks,  
Of their unripe, but healthful Issue, by  
Which Labour tired, sometimes I see them try  
The strength of their scarce twisted Limbs, and run  
A short breathed Course, whose swift contention done,  
And he (as in each other active ●port)  
With victory crowned, they make their next resort  
To th' Springs cheap Bounties; but, what did of all  
His first Attempts, did give the powerful call,  
Both to my Love and Wonder was, what chanced  
From one rare Act: the Morning had advanced  
Her tempting Beauties to assure success  
To these young Huntsmen, who with Labour less  
Made by the pleasure of their Journey had  
The Forest reached, where with their Limbs unclad  
For the pursuit, they follow Beasts that might  
Abroad be recreation, and when Night  
Summoned them home, the welcomest supply  
Both to their own, and Parents quality.  
An angry Boar, chafed with a Morning's chase,  
And now near spent, was come so near the place,  
Where (though secured) on the stupendious height  
Of a vast Rock they stood, that now no flight  
Could promise safety, that wild rage which sent  
Him from the Dogs, his following Foes, is sp●nt  
In the pursuit of them, which (to my grief,  
Had suffered ere we could have lent relief,  
H●d not Argalia, even when danger drew  
So near as death, turned on the Beast, and threw  
His happy Javelin, whose well guided aim,  
Although success it knew not how to claim,  
From strength, yet is so much assisted by  
Fortune, that what before had scorned to die,  
By all our power, when contending in  
Nice Art, the honour of that day to win  
To him alone, falls by that feeble stroke,  
From all his speed; which seen, he, to provoke  
His hastier death, seconds those wounds, which in  
Their safety are, by those with terror seen,  
That had escaped the danger, and even by  
Us that pursued with such amaze, that I  
Who had before observed those Rays of worth,  
Obscured in clouds, here let my love break forth  
In useful Action, such, as from that low  
Condition brought him, where I might bestow  
On him what Art required, to perfect that  
R●re piece of Nature, which we wondered at,  
From those whom I ('mongst others) thought to be  
Such whose Affection, the proximity  
Of Nature claimed, with a regret that showed,  
Their poverty unwillingly bestowed  
So loved a Jewel, had procured the Youth,  
His Foster Father, loath to wave a truth,  
That in the progress of his Fate might be  
Of high account, discovers unto me  
The worlds mistake concerning him, and thus  
Relate his story, He was brought to us,  
(Quoth the good man) some ten years since, by two  
Who (could men be discovered to the view  
Of knowledge by their Habits) seemed but such  
As Fortune's narrow hand had gave not much  
More than Necessity requires to be,  
Enjoyed of every man, whom Life makes free  
Of Nature's City; though their bounty showed,  
To our him judgements, that they only owed  
Mischance for those course Habits, which disguised,  
What once the World at higher rates had prized,  
Ith' worst extreme of time, about the birth  
Oth' fluggish Morning, when the crusted earth  
Was tinseled o'er with Frost, and each Sprig clad  
With Winter's Wool, I whom cross Fortune had  
Destined to early Labours, being abroad,  
Met two benighted men, far from the Road,  
Wand'ring alone, no skilful Guide their way  
Directing in that Infancy of day;  
But the faint beams of glimmering Candles, that  
Shone from our lovely Cottage-Windows, at  
Which Marks they steered their Course; one of them bore  
This Boy, an Infant then, which knew no more  
Than Nature's untrod paths. These having spied  
Me through the Morning's Mists, glad of a Guide,  
Though to a place, whose superficial view,  
Lent small hopes of relief, went with me to  
Mine own poor home, where with such course cheap Fare,  
As must content us, that but eat to bear  
The burdens of a Life refreshed, they take  
A short repose, then being to forsake  
Their newfound Host, desire with us to leave  
The Child, till time should some few days bereave  
Of the Habiliments of Light. We stood  
Not long to parl, but willing to do good  
To strangers so distressed, were never by  
Our poverty once tempted to deny.  
My wife (being then a Nurse) upon her takes  
The pretty Charge, and with our own Son makes  
Him Fellow-commoner at the full Breast,  
And Partner of the Cradles quiet rest.  
Now to depart, one that did seem to have  
The nearst relation to the Infant, gave  
Him first this Jewel (at which word they showed  
One which upon Argalia was bestowed  
By those that left him) then that we might be  
Not straightened by our former poverty;  
Leave us some Gold, by which we since have been  
Enabled to maintain him, though not in  
That Equipage, which we presume unto  
His birth (although to us unknown) is due.  
This done, with Eyes that lost their light in Tears,  
They take their leaves, since when, those days to years  
Are grown, in which we did again expect  
They should return; but whether be neglect  
Or else impossibility detain  
T●em from his sight, our care hath sought in vain.  
Having thus plainly heard as much as Fate  
Had yet of him discovered, I, that late  
Desired him for his own, now for the sake  
Of's Friends (what ere they were) resolved to take  
Him from that barren rudeness, and transplant  
So choice a Slip, where he might know no want  
Of Education; with some labour, I  
Having obtained him, till virility,  
Rendered him fit for nobler Action, stayed  
Him always with me, when, my Love obeyed  
His Reason, and, then in the quest of what  
Confined Domestics do but stumble at  
Exotic knowledge, with this noble Youth,  
To whom his Love grew linked, like spotless truth,  
To perfect Virtue, sent him to pursue  
His wished design, from whence this interview,  
First took its fatal Rise, and here the Lord  
That a more full discovery might afford  
Them yet more wonder, shows the Jewel to  
Sparta's pleased Prince, at whoes most serious view,  
The skilfulst Lapidaries judging it,  
Both for its worth and beauty only fit  
To sparkle in the glorious Cabinet  
Of some great Queen, such value on it set,  
That all conclude the honour on'● must be,  
Some falling Star i'th' Night of Royalty,  
From Honour's sphere, the Glories of a Crown,  
To vaunt (the centre of our Fears) dropped down.  
And now the Court, whose brightest splendour in  
These fatal Changes, long eclipsed had been,  
Resumes its lustre, which to elevate,  
With all the pleasures of a prosperous state,  
For that contracted span of time designed,  
For th' Princes stay, Fancies are wracked to find  
New forms of Mirth, such, whose Invention might  
Inform the Ear, whilst they the Eye delight.  
All which, whilst to the less concerned they lent  
A flux of joy, yet lost their first intent,  
To please the Princess, who from mirth did move  
Excentrical, since first iufl●m'd with Love,  
Which did soon from Fancies Embryo grow,  
A large limbed Tyrant, when prepared to go,  
She sees Argalia, who engaged t' attend  
Th' Ambassadors, here soon had put an end  
To what, even from, those unto Love unkind,  
Must now force tears ere it a period find.  
That time expired, ordained to terminate  
Her Father's stay, and so that splendid state,  
That yet adorned the Princess Court, to show,  
How much he did for's Frontiers safety owe,  
Unto those moving Citadels, a Fleet  
His Mandates calls each Squadron for to meet  
Within Lepanto, in whose harbourous Lay,  
Those Ships that were ordained for a Convey  
To the Calabrians Messengers, who now  
With all that Love, or Honour could allow  
To noble strangers, being attended by  
The brightest Glories of two Courts, draw nigh  
A royal Fleet, whose glittering streamers lent  
Dull Waves the beauties of a Firmament:  
Amongst which numbers, one, too stately far  
For rough Encounters of defacing War,  
Whose gilded Masts their crimson Sails had spread  
In silken Flakes, advanced her stately head,  
High as where Clouds condense, where a Light stands,  
Took for a Comet by far distant Lands,  
For Cabins where th' imprisoned Passenger  
Wants Air to breath, she's stored with Rooms that were  
So fair without, and yet so large within,  
A Persian Sophy might have reveld in  
Their spacious bulks. To this Molarchus, he  
Whom greatness joined to known Ability,  
Had made Sicillia's Admiral, invights  
The Royal Train, where with what ere delights,  
(Although Invention all her stock had spent)  
Could be upon that liquid Element,  
Prepared their welcome, whilst at every Bowl  
A Health inters, the ful-mouthd Cannons trowel  
A Peal of Thunder, which in white Waves drowned  
The softer Trumpets do their Dirges sound.  
Now in the full Carrier of Mirth, whilst all  
Their thoughts in Perpendiculars did fall  
From Honour's Zenith; none incurvated  
With common Cares, Parents that might have bred  
A sly suspicion, whilst neglective Mirth  
Keeps all within from their deep bed of Earth  
Molarchus hoist his Anchors, whilst that all  
The rest lay still, expecting when his call  
Commands their Service, but when they beheld,  
His spread Sails with a nimble Gale were swelled:  
An oppressed Slave, which lay at rest before,  
Was with stretched Limbs tugging his Finny ore;  
Conceiving it but done, to show the Prince  
That Galleys swiftness, let that thought convince  
Fears weak suggestions, and invited by  
Their tempting Mirth, still safe at Anchor lie.  
But now, when they not only saw the Night  
Draw sadly on, but what did more affright  
Their loyal Souls, the distant Vessel by  
Doubling a Cape loft to the sharpest Ey,  
For hateful treason, taxing their mistake,  
With Anchors cut, and Sails spread wide they make  
The lashed Waves roar, whilst those enclosed within  
The Galley, by her unkown speed had been  
Far more deceived, being so far conveyed,  
Ere care arrives to tell them they're betrayed  
Through Mirth's neglective Guards, who now in haste  
With anger raised, in vain those flames did waste  
In wild Attempts, to force a passage to  
The open Decks, whither, before withdrew  
Molarchus was, who now prepared to give  
That treason birth, whose hated Name must live  
In bloody Lines of Infamy, before  
They could expect it, opening wide the door  
That led them forth, the noble Captives fly  
To seek revenge, but being encountered by  
An Armed Crew, so fierce a fight begin,  
That Night's black Mantle ne'er was lined within,  
With aught more horrid; in which bloody Fray,  
The subtle Traitor valiant to betray,  
Though Abject else unnoted, seizing on  
Th' unguarded Princess from their rage is gone,  
Through Night's black Mask, with that rich Prize into  
A Boat that placed, for that design was drew  
Near to the Galley, whose best Wealth being now  
Thus made their own, no more they study how  
To save the rest, all which for death designed,  
The conquered Rebels soon their safety find,  
From other Boats, but first, that all but she,  
Oth' royal train secured by death might be,  
So large a Leak in the brave Vessel make,  
That thence her Womb soon too much weight did take  
For her vast bulk to wield, which sinking now,  
No safety to her royal Guests allow.  
The Ship thus lost, and now no Throne but Waves,  
Left the Sicilian Prince, just Heaven thus saves  
His sacred Person, amongst those that sought  
For timely safety, nimble strength had brought  
Argalia, and his following Friend so near,  
One of the Boats, in which (secured from fear)  
The Rebels sailed, that now they both had took  
A Hold so sure, that though their Foes forsook  
Their Oars to hindered, spite of all their force,  
Argalia enters, which a sad divorce  
From Life, as he by strength attempts to rise,  
From falling wounds, unhappily denies  
The valiant Aphron, who by death betrayed  
From time, and strength, had now left none to aid  
His Friend, but those attending Virtues, that  
ne'er more than now, for th' world to wonder at,  
Brave Trophies built; with such a sudden rage,  
As all his Foes did to defence engage,  
Those bolder Souls that durst resist, he had  
From their disordered Robes of flesh unclad,  
Which horrid sight froced the more fearful to  
Such swift submission, that ere fear out-grew  
His hope, assisted by that strength which bought  
Their Lives reprieve, their Oars reversed had brought  
Him back to th' place, in which the guilty flood,  
Was stained with fair Sicillias' noblest blood.  
Assisted by those silver streams of Light,  
The full faced Moon shot through the swarthy Night,  
On the smooth Sea, he first his course directs,  
Toward one, whose Robes studded with Gems, reflects  
Those feeble Rays, like new fallen Stars, he there  
Finds Sparta's Prince, then sinking from the sphere  
Of mortal greatness in the boundless deep,  
To calm Life's cares in an eternal sleep,  
From unexpected death, the Graves most grim  
And ghastly Tyrant, having rescued him  
With as much sp●ed, as griefs distractions joined  
To Night's confusion, could give leave to find  
More Friends before that all were swallowed by  
The Sea he hasts, when being by chance brought nigh  
Dead Aphron's Father, to be Partner in  
Their carer, who as they only saved had been  
To mourn the rest, he from the rude Sea saves  
Him, to be drowned in sorrows sable Waves.  
Now in the Quest of that deserving Lord,  
Whose goodness did to's Infancy afford,  
Life's best of Comforts, Education, he  
To bawk that needless diligence might see,  
At one large draught the wide Waves swallow all,  
Who vainly did till that sad minute call  
To Heaven for help, which dismal sight beheld  
By those that saved by accident, expelled  
Their own just fears, for them to entertain,  
As just a grief, their needful time in vain  
They spend, no longer in their search, but though  
Unwieldy grief, yet made their motion slow,  
Hast from that horrid place, where each must leave  
Such valued friends; numbers that did receive  
Their blood descended to Nobility,  
From th' royal Spring, here the grieved Prince might se●  
Interred i'th' Ocean the Epirot Lord,  
His late found Son, whom Love could scarce afford  
A minute's absence; nor's Argalia less  
Engaged to grief to leave, whom the distress  
Of's Youth relieved, but what from each of these  
Borrowed some streams of sorrow to appease,  
A grief which since so many Floods hath cost,  
The noble Aminander here was lost.  
Rowed with such speed, as their desire joined to  
That fear which from the conquered Rebels drew  
A swift obedience, being conducted by  
A friendly Light, their Boat is now drawn nigh  
A rocky Island, in whose Harbour they  
Found where the Boat that had out-sayld them lay,  
Drawn near the shore, but all the Passengers  
Being gone, the sight of that alone confers  
No other comfort, then t' inform them that  
The ravished Princess had been landed at  
That Port, which by their Sailors they are told  
Belongs unto a Castle, kept to hold  
That Island, though but one unnoted Town,  
To th' scarce known Laws of the Sicillian Crown.  
This heard by th' Prince, who formerly had known  
That Castle's strength being vexed (although his own)  
That now 'twas such, leaving the Vessel they  
Protected by Night's heaviest shades, convey  
Themselves into a neighbouring Cottage, where  
The Prince, who now externally did bear  
No forms of greatness, lest to his repose,  
Argalia whilst Night's shadows yet did close  
Discovering Eyes, hast back to th' Harbour, whence  
To give the royal Fleet Intelligence,  
Oth' King's distress, he sends forth all but One,  
Whose stoutness had best made his Valour known,  
Of those which conquered by his Sword, are now  
By bounty made too much his own, t' allow  
Even flight suspicion room; This being done,  
That Valour though with Love 'twere winged, might run  
On no rash Precipice, assisted by  
That skilful Seaman, from some Ships that lie  
Neglected, 'cause by time decayed, he takes  
So much o'th' Tackling, as of that he makes  
Ladders of length, sufficient to ascend  
The Castle Walls, which having to defend  
Them nought but slave security, is done  
With so much ease, that what's so well begun,  
They boldly second, and first entering in  
A Tower, which had by th' prudent Founder been  
Built to command the Havens Mouth, which lay  
Too low for th' Castle, where when come, all they  
Found to resist, is one poor Sentry bound,  
In sleep, which soon by death is made more sound.  
To lodge the Prince in that safe place, before  
His active valour yet attempted more:  
The Gates secured that led to th' Castle, he  
Protected by that Night's obscurity,  
By a concealed small Salliport is to  
Its strength soon brought; when now prepared to view  
More dreadful dangers, in such habit clad,  
As by the outguards easy Error had  
Soon as a Soldier gave him entrance, come  
To th' Hall he is, there being informed by some,  
Oth' drowsy Guards, where his pretended speed  
Might find Molarchus, to perform a deed,  
That future Ages, if that Honour's fire  
Lose not its light, shall worthily admire  
His Valour's haste; within a room whose pride,  
Of Art (though great) was far more glorified,  
By that bright Luster, the Spectators saw  
Through Sorrows Clouds in fair Pharonnida,  
He finds the impious Villain heightend in  
His late success, to such rude acts of sin,  
That servile baseness, the low distance whence  
He used to look, grew saucy Impudence.  
Inflamed Argalia, who at once beholds  
Objects to which the Sold enlarged, unfolds  
Its passions in the various Characters  
Of Love and Anger, now no more defers  
The execution of his rage, but in  
So swift a death, as if his hand had been  
Guided by Lightning, to Molarchus sent  
His Life's discharge, which with astonishment,  
Great, as if by their evil Angels, all  
Their sins had been displayed, did wildly fall  
Upon his Followers, whom ere haste could save,  
Or strength resist, Argalia's Sword had gave  
Such sudden deaths, that whilst Amazements reigned,  
Ere all he from the heedless tumult gained,  
That glorious Prize, the royal Lady, who  
In all assaults of fears, not lost unto  
Her own clear Judgement, as a blessing sent  
From Heaven, whilst her base Foes Confusion lent  
That Action safety, follows that brave Friend,  
Whose Sword redeemed her, till her Journeys end  
Through threatening dangers, brought her to that place.  
Where with such passion, as kind Wives embrace  
Husbands returned from bondage, she is by  
Her Father welcomed into liberty.  
Thus rescued, whilst exalted tumors swelled  
To such Confusion, as from sense expelled  
Reasons safe Conduct, whilst each Soldier leaves  
His former Charge, fears pale disease receives  
This Paroxysm; the Fleet, which yet had in  
A doubtful Quest of their surprised Prince been  
Directed hither with the newborn day,  
Their streamers round the Citadel display,  
Which seen by them, that being deluded by  
The dead Molarchus, to his treachery,  
Had joined their strength, guilt, the Original  
Of shame, did to defend the platform Call  
Their bold endeavour, but, when fidning it  
Too strongly man'd for undermining wit,  
Or open strength to force, despairing to  
Be long secure, prompted by fear they threw  
Themselves on Mercy, which calm Grace among  
Heavens other blessings, whilst it leads along,  
The Prince toward Victory made his Conquest seen,  
Such as came not to punish, but redeem.  
The end of the fourth Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The first Book. CANTO THE FIFTH.  
The ARGUMENT.  

IX.  
The grateful Prince, to show how much he loved  
This noble Youth, whoes Merits just reward,  
Too great for less Abilities had proved,  
Makes him Commander of his Daughters Guard.   

X.  
Where seated in the most benign Aspect,  
Kind Love could grant to fair Pharonnida,  
A sacred Vision doth her hopes detect,  
Whose waking joys his absence doth withdraw.   
FReed from those dangers, which this bold attempt  
Made justly feared, whilst joy did yet exempt  
Those cares, which when by time concocted shall,  
His Kingdom to a general Mourning call,  
Sparta's pleased Prince, with all the Attributes  
E'er Gratitude learnt from Desert, salutes  
That noble Youth, which even when hope was spent,  
Kind Heaven had made his safety's Instrument,  
By acts of such heroic Virtue, that  
Whilst all the less concerned are wondering at  
The grateful Prince, in all the noble ways  
Of honour lasting, as his life repaies,  
By whose example the fair Princess taught  
To shadow Love (her Souls most perfect draught)  
In friendship's Veil, so free a welcome gave  
The worthy stranger, that all, prayer durst crave,  
Though sacrificed in Zeals most perfect fire,  
Seemed now from Heaven dropped on his pleased desire.  
Some days spent here, whilst Justice vainly sought,  
That Treason's root, whose base production brought,  
Unto an unexpected Period in  
Molarchus death with him had buried been,  
To future knowledge, all confessions, though  
In torments they extracted were, bestow  
Upon their knowledge, being th' imperfect shade  
Of supposition, which too weak t' invade  
Even those, whose doubtful Loyalty looked dim,  
The prudent Prince, burying mistrust with him,  
Leaving the Island, with's triumphant Fleet,  
On the Sicillian shore, prepars to meet  
That Joy in triumph which a blessing brought,  
His loyal Subjects with their prayers had sought,  
To cure those hot distemperatures, which in  
His absence had the Courts Quotidian been,  
The Princess guard (as being an honour due,  
To noble Valour) having left unto  
That worthy stranger, whose victorious hand  
Declared a Soul created for command,  
The Prince departs from his loud Daughter's Court,  
To joyful Corinth, where, though the resort  
Of such as by their service strove t' express,  
An uncorrupted Loyalty, made less,  
That Mourning, which the Kingdom's general Loss,  
Claimed from all hearts, yet like a sable Cross,  
Which amongst Trophy's noble Conquerors bear,  
All did some signs o'th' public sorrow wear.  
But leaving these to rectify that State,  
This Fever shook, return, to whom we late  
Left gently calmed, that happy pair, which in  
Desire (the shady Porch of Love) begin  
That lasting progress, which ere ended shall,  
So oft their Fate to strong assistance call.  
Some Months in happy free delights, before  
Passion got strength enough to dictate more,  
Then Reason could, right fair they'd spent, in which  
Slumber of Fancy, popular Love grown rich,  
Soon becomes factious, and engages all  
The powers of Nature to procure the fall,  
Of the Souls lawful Sovereign; either in  
Each Action of the others did begin  
To place an Adoration, she doth see  
What ere he doth, as shining Majesty  
Beneath a Cloud, or Books, where Heaven transfers  
Their Oracles in unknown Characters.  
Like Gold yet unrefined, or th' Adamant,  
Wrapped up in earth, he only seemed to want  
Knowledge of Worth. Her Actions in his fight  
Appear like fires feigned Element, with light,  
But not destruction armed; like the fair Sun,  
When through a crystal Aqueduct he'th run,  
His piercing Beams, until grown temperate by  
That cooling Medium, through humility,  
eat her Majestic worth; in either's Eyes,  
The other seemed to wear such a disguise  
As Poets clothed their wand'ring Gods in, when  
In forms disguised they here conversed with men.  
But long this conflict of their Passions ere  
Resisted lasts not, when disdained to bear  
Those leaden Fetters, the great Princess tries  
To quench that fire i'th' Embryo, ere it rise  
To unresisted blazes, but in vain,  
What her tears smother are by sighs again,  
Blown into flames, such as, since not to be  
By aught extinguished, her sweet modesty  
Strives to conceal, nor did them more betray,  
Then by such Fugitives as stole away,  
Through her fair Eyes, those Salliports of Love  
From her besieged heart, now like to prove,  
Had not her Honour called the Act unjust,  
So feeble to betray her Souls best trust,  
Her flames being not such, as each vulgar breast,  
Feels in the fires of Fancy, when oppressed,  
With gloomy discontents, her bright stars sat  
Enthroned so high, that like the Bays of Fate,  
It stopped the Current of the stream, and to  
The Sea of Honour, Loves fresh Rivers drew.  
Thus whilst the royal Eaglet doth i'th' high  
Sublimer Region of bright Majesty,  
Upon Affections Wings, still hover, yet,  
Loath to descend, on th' humble earth doth sit,  
Her worthy Lover, like that amorous Vine,  
When crawling o'er the Weeds, it strives to twine  
Embraces with the Elm, he stands, whilst she  
Desires to bend, but like that lovesick Tree,  
By greatness is denied; he that ne'er knew,  
A swelling tumour of conceit, nor flew  
Upon the waxen Wings of vain Ambition,  
A thought above his own obscure Condition,  
Thinks that the Princess by her large respect,  
Conferred on him, but kindly doth reflect  
Her Father's beams, and with a reverend zeal,  
Sees those descending Rays that did reveal  
Love's Embassies transported on the quick  
Wings of that heart-o're-coming Rhetoric,  
Instructing that the weakness of his Eye,  
Dazzled with beams of shining Majesty,  
Might for too boldly gazing on a sight,  
So full of glory, be deprived of light,  
Stifling his Fancy, till it turned the Air,  
That found his heart to flames, which pale despair,  
Chilled into I●e soon; as he went about  
With them to breathe a storm of passions out.  
But vain are all these fears, his Eagle sight,  
Is born to gaze upon no lesser Light,  
Then that from whence, all other beauties in  
The same sphere borrow theirs, he else had been,  
Degenerate from that royal Airce, whence  
He first did spring, although he fell from thence  
Unfledged, the growing Pinnions of his Fame,  
Wanting the purple tincture of his Name,  
And Titles (both unknown) yet shall be fly,  
On his own Merits strength, a pitch as high  
Though not so boldly claimed, and such as shall  
Enhance the blessing, when the dull mists fall  
From truths benighted Eyes, whispering in  
His Souls pleased Ear, her passion did begin,  
Whilst all the Constellations of her Fate,  
Fixed in the Zenith of bright honour sat,  
Whilst his (depressed by adverse Fortune) in  
Their Nader lay (even to his hopes) unseen.  
Whilst thus Enthean fire did lie concealed,  
With different Curtains, lest by being revealed,  
Cross Fate, which could not quench it, should to death  
Scorch all their hopes, burned in the angry breath  
Of her incensed Father, whilst the fair  
Pharonnida was striving to repair  
The wakeful ruins of the day, within  
Her Bed, whose Down of late by Love had been  
Converted into Thorns, she having paid  
The restless tribute of her sorrow, stayed  
To breathe a while in broken slumbers, such  
As with short blasts cool feverish brains, but much  
More was in hers, a strong Prophetic dream,  
Divering by Enigmas Nature's stream,  
Long hover through the Portals of her mind,  
On vain fantastic Wings, at length did find  
The glimerings of obstructed reason, by  
A brighter beam of pure divinity,  
Led into supernatural light, whose Rays,  
As much transcended reasons, as the days  
Dull mortal fires, faith apprehends to be  
Beneath the glimerings of divinity.  
Her unimprisond Soul disrobed of all  
Terrestrial thoughts, like its Original,  
In Heaven pure, and Immaculate, a fit  
Companion did for those bright Angels sit,  
Which the Gods made their Messengers to bear  
This sacred truth: seeming transported where,  
Fixed in the flaming Centre of the world,  
The heart o'th' Mycrocosme, 'bout which is hurled  
The spangled Curtains of the Sky, within  
Whose boundless Orbs, the circling Planets spin  
Those threads of time, upon whose strength rely  
The ponderous Burdens of mortality;  
An Adamantine World she sees, more pure,  
More glorious far than this, framed to endure  
The shock of Doomsdays Darts, in which remains  
The better Angels of what earth contains,  
Placed there to govern all our Acts, and be  
A Medium 'twixt us and Eternity.  
Hence Nature from a Labyrinth, half above,  
Half underneath, that sympathetick Love  
Which warms the World, to Generation sends,  
On unseen Atoms, each small star attends  
Here for his Message, which received is by  
Their influence to the Astral Faculty,  
That lurks on earth communicated; hence  
Informing Forma sends Intelligence,  
To the material principles of earth,  
Her upper Garments, Nature's second birth.  
Upon each side of this large Frame, a Gate  
Of different use was placed, at one there sat  
A sprightly youth, whose Angels form delights,  
Eyes dimmed with age, whose blandishments invights  
Infants i'th' Womb to court their woe, and be  
By his false shape tempted to misery.  
Millions of thousands swarm about him, though  
Diseases do each minute strive to throw  
Them from his presence, since being tempted by  
His flattering form, all court it, though they lie  
On beds of thorns to look on't, saving some  
More wretched Malcontents, that hither come,  
With Souls so sullen, that whilst time invights  
Them to his Joys, they eat those smooth delights.  
This, the World's Favourite, had a younger Brother.  
Of different hue, each more unlike the other,  
Then opposite Aspects Antipathy  
Within their breasts, though they were forced to be  
Almost inseparable dwelled: this Fiend  
A passage guarded, which at th' other end  
Oth' spacious Structure stood, betwixt each Gate  
Was placed a Labyrinth, in whose Angles sat  
The vanities of Life, attempting to  
Stay deaths pale Harbingers, but that black Cle●,  
Times dusty Girdle, Fates Arithmetic,  
Griefs slow paced Snail, Joys more than Eagle quick,  
That Chain whose Links composed of hours and days,  
Thither at length spite of delay conveys  
The slow paced steps of time; there always stood  
Near him one of the triple Sisterhood,  
Who with deformity in love, did send  
Him troops of Servants, hourly to attend  
Upon his harsh Commands, which he from all  
Society of flesh, without the Wall,  
Down a dark Hill conveyed, at whose foot stood  
An ugly L●ke, black as that horrid flood,  
Gods made by men did fear, Myriad of Boats,  
On the dark surface of the water floats,  
Containing Passengers, whose different hue,  
Tell them that from the Walls do trembling view  
Their course, that there's no age of man to be  
Exempted from that powerful tyranny.  
A Tide which ne'er shall know reflux, beyond  
The baleful stream, unto a gloomy strand,  
Circled with black obscurity, conveys  
Each passenger, where their torn Chain of days,  
Is in Eternity pe●ckt up: between  
These different Gates, the Princess having seen  
Life's various Scenes wrought to a method by  
Disposing Angels, on a Rock more high  
Than Nature's common surface, she beholds  
The Mansion house of Fate, which thus unfolds  
Its sacred Mysteries, A trine within  
A quadrate placed, both those encompassed in  
A perfect Circle was its form, but what  
Its matter was, for us to wonder at,  
Is undiscovered left; a Tower there stands  
At every Angle, where times fatal hands  
Th' impartial Parcaes dwell, i'th' first she sees  
Cloth, the kindest of the Destinies,  
From immaterial Essences to cull  
The seeds of life, and of them frame the Wool,  
For Lachesi● to spin, about her fly  
Myriad of Souls, that yet want flesh to lie  
Warmed with their Functions in, whose strength bestows  
That power by which man ripe for misery grows.  
Her next of Objects was that glorious Tower,  
Where that swift fingered Nymph that spares no hour  
From mortals service, draws the various threads  
Of life in several lengths; to weary beds  
Of age, extending some, whilst others in  
Their Infancy are broke, some blacked in sin,  
Others (the Favourites of Heaven) from whence  
Their Origen, candid with Innocence:  
Some purpled in afflictions, others died  
In sanguine pleasures; some in glittering pride,  
Spun to adorn the Earth, whilst others wear  
Rags of Deformity; but knots of care  
No thread was wholly freed from. Next to this  
Fair glorious Tower was placed that black Abbyss  
Of dreadful Atropos, the bale full seat  
Of death and horror, in each room replear,  
With lazy damps, loud groans, and the sad sight  
Of pale, grim Ghosts, those Terrors of the Night:  
To this (the last stage) that the winding Clew  
Of life can lead mortality unto;  
Fear was the dreadful Porter, which let in  
All Guests sent thither by destructive sin.  
As its firm Basis, on all these depends  
A lofty Pyramid, to which each sends  
Some Gift from Nature's treasury to Fame's  
Uncertain hand, the hollow room with Names,  
And empty sounds was only filled, of those,  
For whom the Destinies deigned to compose  
Their fairest threads; as if but born to die,  
Here all Ephem'raes of report did fly,  
On feeble Wings, till being like to fall  
Some faintly stick upon the slimy Wall,  
Till the observant Antiquary rents,  
Them thence to live in paper Monuments,  
In whose Records they are preserved to be,  
The various censures of posterity.  
Ith' upper Room, as Favourites to Fate,  
There only Poets (rich in Fancy) sat,  
In that beneath, Historians, whose Records,  
Do Themes unto those pregnant Wits afford;  
Yet both preparing everlasting Bays,  
To crown their glorious dust, whose happy days  
Were here spent well; beneath these covered o'er  
With dim oblivions shadows, Myriad more,  
Till Doomsday shall the gaudy World undress,  
Lay huddled up in dark forgetfulness:  
All which (as Objects not of worth to cast  
A fixed Eye on) the Princess Genius past,  
In heedless haste, until obstructed by  
Visions, that thus fixed her Souls wand'ring Ay.  
A Light as great, as if that Doomsdays flame  
Were for a Lamp hung in the Court of Fame:  
Directs her, where on a bright Throne there sat  
Sicillia's better Genius: her proud state,  
(Courted by all Earth's greatest Monarches) by  
Three valiant Knights supported was, whose high  
Merits disdaining a Reward, less great,  
With equal hopes aimed at the royal Seat,  
Which since all could not gain, betwixt her three  
Fair Daughters both her Crown and Dignity  
Is equally bestowed, by giving one  
To each of them; when the divided Throne,  
Had on each Angle fixed a Diadem,  
Her Vision thus proceeds; the royal Stem,  
That bore her Father's Crown, to view first brings  
Its golden Fruit, a glorious Race of Kings,  
Led by the Founder of their Fame, their Rear  
Brought by her Father up: next those that bear,  
Epirus honoured Arms, the royal train  
Concluding in Zoranza: this linked Chain  
Drawn to an end, the Princes that had swayed  
Argalia's Sceptre, fill the Scene till stayed  
By the Epirots Sword, their conquered Crown,  
From aged Gelons hoaty head dropped down,  
At fierce Zoranza's feet; this she beholds  
With admiration, whilst hid truth unfolds  
Itself in plainer objects, the distressed  
Actolian Prince again appears, but dressed  
In a poor Pilgrim's Weed, in's hand he leads  
A lovely Boy, in whose sweet look she reads  
Soft pities Lectures, but whilst gazing on  
This Act till lost in admiration,  
By sudden Fate he seemed transformed, to what  
She last beheld him, only offering at  
Love's Shrine his heart to her Idea; there  
Joy had bereaved her slumbers, had not fear  
Clouded the glorious Dream, a dreadful mist,  
Black as the steams of Hell, seeming to twist  
Its ugly vapours, into shades more thick  
Than Night engendering Damps, had with a quick  
But horrid darkness veiled the Room, t' augment  
Whose terror a Clouds sulphry bosom rend,  
With dreadful thunderclaps, darting a bright  
But fearful blaze through th' artificial Night,  
Lent her so much use of her Eyes to see  
Argalia grovelling in his blood, which she  
Had scarce beheld, ere the malignant flame  
Vanished again she shrieks, and on his Name  
Doth passionately call, but here's no sound  
Startles her Ear, but hollow groans, which drowned  
Her Soul in a cold sweat of fears, which ended,  
A second blaze lends her its light, attended  
With Objects, whose wild horror did present  
Her Father's Ghost then seeming to lament,  
Her injured Honour, in his Company,  
Thd slain Laconians Spirit, which let free  
From the dark Prison of the cold Grave, where  
In rusty Chains he lay, was come to bear  
Her to that sad Abode, but as she now  
Appeared to sink, a golden Cloud did bow  
From Heavens fair Arch, in which Argalia seemed,  
Clad in bright Armour fitting, who redeemed  
Her from approaching danger, which being done,  
The darkness vanished, and a glorious Sun  
Of welcome Light displayed its beams, by which  
A Throne the first resembling, but more rich  
In its united Glory to the eye,  
Presents its lustre, where in Majesty  
The Angels that attend their better Fate,  
Placed her, and brave Argalia, in which state  
The un-bard portals of her Soul, let fly  
The golden slumber, whose dear memory,  
Shall live within her noble thoughts, until  
Treading o'er all obstructions, Fate fulfil  
These dark predictions, whose obscurity,  
Must often first her Souls afflictions be.  
When now the Morning's dews, that cool allay,  
Which cures the Fevers of th' intemperate day,  
Were rarified to Air, the Princess to  
Improve her joy in private thoughts, withdrew  
From burdensome society within  
A silent Groves cool shadows, what had been  
Her Midnight's joy to recollect, in which  
Delightful task, whilst Memory did enrich  
The robes of Fancy, to divert the stream  
Of thoughts, intentive only on her Dream.  
Argalia enters with a speed, that showed  
He unto some supreme Commander owed  
That diligence, but when arrived so near  
As to behold, stopped with a reverend fear,  
Lest this intrusion on her Privacies,  
Might ruffle Passion, which now floating lies  
In a calm stream of thoughts, he stays, till she  
By her Comm●nds gave fresh activity  
To his desires, then with a lowly grace,  
Yet such, to which Prides haughty Sons gave place,  
For Native sweetness, he on's knee presents  
A Packet from her Father, whose Contents,  
If Love can groan beneath a greater Curse,  
Then Desperation, made her sufferings worse  
Than fear could represent them, 'twas expressed  
In Language that not wholly did request,  
Nor yet command consent; only declare,  
His royal Will, and the paternal Care  
He bore his Kingdom's safety, which could be  
By nought confirmed, more than Afinity,  
With the Laconian Prince, whose big fame stood  
Exalted in a spacious Sea of blood,  
On Honour's highest Pyramid; his hand  
Had made the triple headed spot of Land,  
One of her stately Promontories bow,  
Beneath his Sword, and with his Sceptre now,  
He at the other reaches, which, if Love  
But gently smile on's newborn hopes, and prove  
Propitious as the God of War, his Fate  
Climbs equal with his wishes, but too late,  
That slow-paced Soldier bend his Forces to  
Storm that fair Virgin Citadel, which knew  
E'er his pretences could a Parley call,  
Beneath what force that royal Fort must fall.  
Enclosed within this rough Lords Le●ters ●he  
Received his Picture, which informed her be  
Wanted dissimulation (that worst part  
O● Courtship (●o put Compliments of Art  
On his Effigies; his stern Brow far more  
Glorying i'th' Scars, then in the Crown he wore:  
His active Youth made him Retainer to  
The Court of Mars, something too long to sue  
For entrance into Love's, like Mornings clad  
In griesled Frosts, ere plump-cheeked Autumn had  
Sh●rn the Glebs' golden Locks, some silver hairs  
Mixed with his black appeared; his Age despairs  
Not of a hopeful Heir, nor could his Youth  
Promise much more, the venerable truth  
Of glorious Victories, that stuck his Name  
For Ornament i'th' Frontispiece of Fame,  
Together with his Native greatness were,  
His Orators to plead for Love, but where  
Youth, Beauty, Valour, and a Soul as brave,  
Though not known great as his, before had gave  
Loves pleasing wounds; Fortunes neglected gain,  
In fresh assaults, but spends her strength in vain.  
With as much ease as Souls, when ripened by  
A wel-spent life, hast to eternity.  
She had sustained this harsh encounter, though  
Backed with her Father's threats, did it not show  
More dreadful yet, in a command which must  
Call her Argalia, from his glorious trust,  
Her Guardian to a separation in  
An Embassy to him, whose hopes had been  
Her new created fears, which sentence read  
By the wise Lady, though her passions bred  
A sudden tumult, yet her reason stays  
The Torrent, till Argalia who obeys  
The strictest limits of observance to  
Her he adorned, being reverently withdrew,  
Enlarged her sorrow in so loud a tone,  
That ere he's through the winding Labyrinth gone,  
So far, but that he could distinctly hear  
Her sad Complaints, they thus assault his Ear:  
Unhappy Soul, born only to infuse  
Pearls of delight with Vinegar, and lose  
Content for Honour; it's a sin to be  
Born high, that robs me of my liberty:  
Or is't the curse of greatness to behold  
Virtue through such false Optics as unfold  
No splendour less, from equal Orbs they shine?  
What Heaven made free, ambitious men confine,  
In regular degrees: poor Love must dwell  
Within no Climate, but what's parallel,  
Unto our honoured births; the envied Fare  
Of Princes oft these burdens find from state;  
When lowly Swains knowing no Parents voice,  
A Negative, make a free happy choice.  
And here she sighed, then with some drops distilled,  
From Love's most sovereign Elixir filled  
The crystal Fountains of her eyes, which ere  
Dropped down, she thus recals again; but ne'er,  
(Never my Argalia) shall these fears destroy  
My hopes of thee, Heaven let me but enjoy  
So much of all those blessings, which their Birth  
Can take from frail Mortality, and Earth,  
Contracting all her Curses cannot make  
A storm of danger loud enough to shake  
Me to a trembling Penitence, a Curse,  
To make the horror of my sufferings worse,  
Sent in a Father's Name, like Vangeance fell  
From angry Heaven, upon my head may dwell,  
In an eternal stain; my honoured Name  
With pale disgrace may languish, busy Fame  
My Reputation spot, Affection be  
Termed uncommanded Lust, sharp poverty,  
That Weed which kills the gentle Flower of Love,  
As the result of all these Ills may prove  
My greatest misery, unless to find  
Myself unpitied, yet not so unkind,  
Would I esteem this mercenary Band,  
As those far more malignant powers that stand  
Armed with diswasions to obstruct the way,  
Fancy directs, but let those Souls obey  
Their harsh Commands, that stand in fear to shed  
Repentant tears: I am resolved to tread  
These doubtful paths, through all the shades of fear,  
That now benights them. Love, with pity hear  
Thy Suppliants Prayers, and when my clouded Eyes  
Shall cease to weep, in Smiles I'll sacrifice  
To thee such Offerings, that the utmost date  
Of deaths rough hands shall never violate.  
Whilst our fair Virgin-sufferer was in  
This Agony, Argalia that had been  
Attentive, as an envied Tyrant to  
Suspected Counsels: from her Language drew  
So much, that that pure essence which informs  
His knowledge, shall in all the future storms  
Of Fate protect him, from a fear that did  
Far more than death afflict, whilst Love lay hid  
In Honours upper Region, now whilst she  
Calmly withdraws, to let her Comforts be  
Hopes of's return, his latest view forsook  
His Souls best comfort, who hath now betook  
Herself to private thoughts, where with what rest,  
Love can admit, I leave her, and him blest  
In a most prosperous Voyage, but happier far  
In being directed by so bright a Star.  
The end of the first Book.    

PHARONNIDA. The second Book.  

CANTO THE FIRST.  
The ARGUMENT.  

I.  
Still wakeful guilt, Almanzor's Rebel sin,  
Taking advantage of unguarded mirth,  
Which now without mistrust did revel in,  
The Princess Court gives thence new Treason birth.   

II.  
By treachery seized, and through Night's shades conveyed  
She had for ever in this storm been lost,  
Had not its rage by such rude hands been stayed,  
That safety near as much as danger cost.   
THese Hell-ingendred Embrioes', which had long  
Lay hid within Almanzor's breast, grown strong;  
Now for delivery strives; Clandestine plots,  
Ripened with Age and Lust, dissolve the knots,  
Wherein his fear had fettered them, and fly  
Beyond the Circle of his Loyalty.  
Since his deserts made him a stranger to  
His Princess Court, he'd lived like those that do  
Fly that pursuing Vengeance, which attends  
A Rebel's Acts, seen only to such Friends,  
Whose blemmisht Honour, suffering in his fall,  
Assist his rising, though they venture all  
By that unlawful Act, on paths that may  
Precipitate to ruin; the dark way  
Had long been sought for, Consultations did  
Whisper Rebellion in soft Airs, forbid  
To live in louder Language, until like  
Inevitable thunder it could strike,  
As swift, as secret, and as sure as those,  
Heaven's anger hu●ls through all that durst oppose.  
In all the progress of that dark design,  
Whose unseen Engines strove to undermine  
That power (which since Heaven doth in Kings infuse)  
None but unhallowed Rebels durst abuse  
Time (Treasons secret Midwife) did produce  
No birth like this; such Friends as often use  
Had taught him their Souls Characters he makes  
Sharers of's guilt; but whilst he (troubled) takes  
A care to fit each smaller Wheel unto  
This fatal Engine, those black powers that do  
Assist such dark designs, a moving spirit,  
Supplies it with, although Almanzor's merit  
Purchased few friends, yet had his tempting Gold  
Corrupted some, 'mongst which it surest hold  
Upon Amphibia took, a Lady who  
Before Florenza's sweeter virtues drew  
Her Favour to a better Object, swayed,  
The Princess choice Affections she betrayed  
By glittering Charms, persuades her thoughts no deed  
For guilt is branded, whose attempts may feed  
Ambition's malice, and at one blow give  
Envy and Avarice a hope to live  
Pleased with their ruin, whose fair merits dwell  
High in those thoughts, from whence she justly fell.  
To rack revenge unto as large extent,  
As hate could wish, what Hell could ne'er invent,  
Without assistance of a female Wit,  
Man's first Betrayer, all that seemed but fit  
From Treasons close embrace to propagate  
Revenge she lights him, what (though close as Fate,  
When parling with the Destinies) is by  
Her Counsel acted, swift as stories fly  
From vulgar Tongues, her treachery makes known  
To the bold Rebbel, whose intentions grown  
Hence ripe for Action, when his secret guilt  
A strong retreat had for rebellion built,  
By laying the foundation on't, in those  
Whom since by want, or envy made the Foes  
To th' public peace, are soon persuaded by  
Their Princess fall, to cure that malady.  
This platform laid, some whose wise valour he  
By practice knew, adorned with secrecy,  
Amongst the number of his guilty friends,  
Selected in its first attempt, attends  
Treasons dark walks, which now more secret by  
Night's dismal shadows made, had brought them nigh  
The Princess Palace, through the Hemisphears  
Dark Curtain, now the big bulkt roof appears,  
And dappled Windows showed their several light,  
Like rich Enamel in the Jet of Night;  
All rocked in sweet security they found,  
By Fate false smiles, triumphant mirth had crowned  
The glorious Train, whose height of joy could taste,  
No poison of suspicion, each embraced  
His free delights, yet feared, no Snake should lie  
Lurking within those Flowers: amidst which high  
Divine flames of enthean joy, to her  
That levelled had their way, a Messenger  
Makes known their near approach, for which before  
She had prepared, and veiled the Pavement o'er  
In thin, but candid Innocence; accursed  
By all that ere knew Virtue: oh, how durst  
Thy Envy turn these comic Scenes into  
So red a Tragedy as must ensue,  
Thy guilts Stenography, which thus writes Fate  
In Characters of blood: but now too late  
'Tis to repent, when punishment wrought fair,  
Shows thy foul Crimes, thou only mayst despair.  
Leaving this Fiend to hatch her Vipers here,  
Le's breathe awhile, although in full carrier,  
Stay on the brow o'th' precipice to view  
The Cou●ts full joys, which being arrived unto  
Their Zenith seemed to Fate-discerning Eyes,  
Like Garlands were before a Sacrifice,  
The Cornu Copiae from the Tables now,  
Removed by full fed Rurals, did allow  
Time for discourse, as much as modest mirth  
Durst stretch her wings; crowned Cups gave lusty birth  
To active sports. The hearts warm bounties flame  
From lofty Piles, and in their pride became  
The lustre of the Roof; to glorify  
Which yet imperfect Festival, the eye  
That lent to this large body light divine,  
Pharonnida, at whose adored Shrine,  
These Sacrifices offered were, appears  
Within the Hall, and with her presence clears  
Each supercilious brow, if hopes to see  
What's now enjoyed, suffered such there to be.  
The Princess on her honoured Throne reposed,  
A Fancy tempting, Music first unclosed  
The winding Portals of the Soul, which done,  
Four Swains, whose time directed knowledge won  
Attention with Credulity, by turn  
Sicillia's Annals sung, and from the Urn  
Of now almost forgotten truth did raise  
Their Fame (those branches of eternal Bayss.)  
Which sober mirth, Preparatives unto  
More active sports continuing, whilst the new  
Model of Treason was disguizing in  
A Mask ordained to candy o'er their sin,  
To gild those Pills of poison with delight,  
And strew with Roses, deadly Aconite,  
Was now drawn near an end, when from without  
A murmuring noise of several sounds about  
The Palace Gates was heard, which suddenly,  
Dissolving to an antic harmony,  
Proclaims their entrance, whose first solemn sight,  
In dreadful shapes mixed terror with delight.  
In the black front of that slow March appears,  
A Train, whose difference both in Sex and years,  
Had spoke confusion, if agreement in  
Their Acclamation had no Prologue been.  
A Dance where method in disorder lay,  
Where each seemed out, though all their rules obey,  
Was first in different measures trod, which done  
Twelve armed Viragoes, whose strange habit won  
More admiration than their beauty led,  
As many captive Satyrs, in the head  
Oth' Amazonian troop, a Matron by,  
To younger Nymphs supported, till come nigh  
Pharonnida's bright Throne, presents the rest  
Her Issue, who externally expressed,  
So many fair soul'd Virtues, born to be  
Protectors of their Mother Chastity,  
Who wants their help, although supported by  
Her weaker daughters Fear, and Modesty.  
Those obscean vices, whose rude hands betray  
Nature's deformities forced to obey,  
Their brave opposing Virtues did appear  
Ith' captive Satyrs, who, being now brought near  
A dreadful music's heard without, whose sound  
Did gentler Airs in their first births confound;  
Which being a signal to that act of blood,  
That soon ensues, whilst all expecting stood,  
Some happier change, the false viragoes drew  
Their Swords, and with a speedy fury slew  
The struggling Knights, who thus disguised had been,  
With the more horror to be murdered in  
Their royal Mistress sight, whose shrieks did tell,  
What trembling Guests within her breast did dwell.  
Sudden and cruel was the Act, yet stands  
Not Treason here, but whilst their purpled hands  
Yet wreaked in blood, their guilty Souls to slain,  
With blacket sins (her weak Defenders slain)  
Rush toward the trembling Princess, who now lies  
Betrayed by the Souls Janitors, her Eyes  
To Passions insupportable, which grown  
A burden to her Spirits, all were flown  
To th' Porch of death for rest: if Souls new fled  
From tainted bodies that have surfeited,  
On studied sins, could be discerned when they  
Unarmed with penitence, are hurled away,  
By long armed Fiends, less pale, less horrid would  
Their guilty looks appear, confusion could  
Not live in livelier emblem, each appears  
To fly the danger, but about him bears  
Its pale effects: so passengers forsake  
A sinking Ship, such strong Convulsions shake  
Surprised Forts, so Doomsdays Trumpet shall  
Startle the unprepared world, when all  
Her Atoms in their then worn Robes shall be  
Ravished in flames to meet eternity.  
Th' unguarded Princess being by all forsook,  
But poor Florenza, both from thence are took,  
Whilst neither in that horrid Agony,  
Beheld their danger, and transported by  
Almanzor to his Coach, which near attended,  
On his assured success, who now befriended  
With the protecting darkness hasts away,  
Swift as desire with the fair trembling prey.  
Those few opposing friends, whose will was more,  
Then power to relieve her, over bore  
By the victorious Rebbels, did in vain  
Attempt her rescue, which since fruitless, slain,  
Her Martyrs fall, leaving their lives to be,  
An evidence of dying Loyalty.  
Success attends thus far, but Fortune now  
Left off to smile on Villainy, her brow  
Contracted into frowns, she swiftly sent  
This Countermand, her Followers having spent  
Their own endeavours to no purpose raise,  
In haste the neighbourig Villages, nor stays  
The swift Alarm, till it had out-fled  
The speed Almanzor made; roused from his Bed,  
And warm Embraces of his Wife, by those  
Which had outrun the danger of their Foes:  
The drowsy Villager in trembling haste,  
Snatches such Arms as former fear had placed,  
Fit to defend, with which whilst Hor●pies call  
In tones more frantic than a bacchinal.  
They stumble to their Rendesvouz, which none  
But only by the louder cries had known.  
This giddy multitude, which no command  
Knew, but what rage did dictate, hover stand,  
Like big swollen Clouds drove by a doubtful wind,  
Uncertain where to fall: one cries behind  
The greatest danger lies; some like his choice,  
And speedily retreat, until a voice  
More powerful though from the like judgement sprung,  
Persuades them on again; some madly rung  
The jarring Bells, as far from harmony,  
As their Opinions: all which disagree  
About the place, whence the alarm's come,  
One cries the Princess Court, until struck dumb,  
By a more terrifying Fool that swears  
The next Port is surprised, towered which he stairs,  
To see the Beacon's blaze, but is from far,  
Deceived by th' light of an ascending star.  
So many shapes bear their weak Fancies, that,  
All would do something, but there's none knows what.  
In this strange Medley of Confusion, they  
That could command, want such as would obey,  
To exercise their power; each thinks his own  
Opinion best, so must perform't alone:  
Or else remain, as hitherto they had,  
Busy in doing nothing: in which mad  
Fit of distracted fury, like to fight,  
For want of Foes amongst themselves, the Night  
(Grown grey with age) fore-shewd her death, when each  
Thinking that now he'd done enough to teach,  
An active Soldier vigilance in spending  
A Night abroad, which they will call defending  
Their Prince and Country from a danger, but  
What 'twas they know not, swearinged shall be put  
In the next Chronicle, they disunite,  
Their near wel-joynted Forces, and a flight  
Rather than march, to th' several Hamlets take,  
From whence at first, being scarce half awake,  
Not so much clothed, their heedless haste had sent  
Them, only noise and number to augment.  
One troop of this disbanded Company,  
Which, though but few, more than could well agree  
To march together, by mistake being cast  
Into a narrow strait, met as they passed  
The Coach that bore the Princess, being by those  
That stole her guarded, the mad Rout t' oppose  
Their farther passage, not because they thought  
Them to be those their Ignorance had sought,  
In their late meeting, the Antipathy  
'twixt them and th' Gentry, is enough to be  
That quarrels Parent, whose event shall make  
Their Prince and Country blest in their mistake.  
Startled from all his temperate joys with this  
Unlooked for Remora i'th' Road of bliss,  
Enraged Almanzor rows to ford the Flood  
Oth' present danger, or with his own blood,  
Augment the stream, with that he flies among,  
Those that are nearest of the numerous throng,  
Who, when they found what difference was between  
Their Clubs (blunt as their Valor●) and the keen  
Edge of his Sword would have fell back, but are  
Forced on by those behind, who being far  
From danger, fear it not. Thus some are forced  
To fight, till their unwilling Souls divorced  
From their cold Lodgings made their peace; but here  
Whilst he a conqueror reigns, ingenious fear,  
Taught them that dared no nearer come, to do  
Most mischief at a distance, climbed unto  
The Rocks inequitable Cliffs: from thence  
They shower down stones that equally dispense,  
Danger 'mongst Friends and Foes; had she not been  
Defended by her Coach, their Princess in  
This storm had perished: or had fear of death  
Unfixt her thoughts, she'd spent that precious breath,  
Now sacrificing in her prayers to be  
From their wild rage delivered safe, but she  
(Oppressed with Lethargies of sorrow) lends  
No ear to this rude fight, on which depends,  
So much of Fate, danger appears to lie,  
Not more in the disease, than remedy.  
Whilst the opposed Almanzor now had near  
Hewed forth his way through all of them, appear  
More company by their loud clamours drew,  
Unto their timely aid; now danger grew,  
Horrid and threatening, till the impeteous shower,  
Wetting the Wings of the fierce Rebel's power;  
Clog all his hopes of flight, unless he leave,  
His trembling prey behind him; to bereave  
Him of his last of hopes, he sees his train  
Begin to drop▪ with those that yet remain  
He thinks it time, whilst undiscovered, to  
Secure himself, which difficult to do;  
At length (though not unwounded) he alone  
Breaks through their Forces, blest in being unknown:  
Else had their battered Weapons spared to shed  
The blood of others, and had surfeited  
On his, which adding knowledge to the fire  
Of Rage, they had most reason to desire.  
The unsuccesful Rebel thus secured,  
By speedy flight, his train not long endured  
The circling danger, which from each side sends,  
Symptoms so deadly, all their strength de●ends  
Not the rude torrent, nor their prayers could calm  
Their Foes stern rage; sweet Mercies healing Balm  
Is the extraction of brave Spirits, which  
(By innate valour rarified) enrich  
With that fair Gem, the triumphs of success,  
Whilst Cowards make the Victor's glory less,  
Their highest flame of rage being but dull earth,  
Fired into tyranny, the spurious birth  
Of a precedent fear, whose baseness knows  
No calm, but what from others danger grows.  
And now the field, scoured by the beastly rage  
Oth' savage Clowns, had left no Foe t' engage  
A Life, nor could their policy persuade  
Them to let one survive, till he had made  
The Plot discovered, with rude hast they crush  
Their trembling Souls out, and all Weapons blush,  
In part of th' b●o●d, so many bands had gave  
Them hurt less Wounds, that the expecting Grave,  
Needs only take their Bones, for madly they  
Had minced their flesh for th' Vultures easier prey.  
This victory gained, they hast to th' Coach, and thence  
The unknown Princess take, no large expense  
Of prayers, poured from Florenza's fears could be,  
So powerful to obtain Civility.  
She tells them who their rage profanes, and by  
Their Princess Name conjures them, but the high  
Exalted out-cries drown her voice, till one,  
Who had the Rape of the sad Lady known,  
When first performed, did with a louder voice  
Proclaim her there, and having first made choice  
Of a more civil Companut ' oppose  
Th' uncivil Clowns, rescues her, and then shows,  
How near their heedless rage had cast away  
The glorious Prize of that victorious day.  
From fainting slumbers raised, the Princess now  
Secure in their discovery, taught them how  
To turn her Fury into Zeal, and show  
By serving her, the Allegiance that they owe  
Her royal Father. To the Palace come,  
Rewarding all, she there commands that some  
Stay for her Guard, but soon that Order grew  
A troublesome obedience, none would to  
His Cottage, whilst that any stayed within  
The Palace Gates, but long they had not been  
Thus burthensomly diligent, ere on  
A new design, each struggles to be gone  
From's former Charge; a Messenger is sought,  
Who to the Court must post, but each one thought  
Himself of most ability, so all  
Or none must go, yet ere the difference fall  
Into a near approaching quarrel, he  
Who rescued her, the Princess chose to be  
Her Messenger. Euriolus (for so  
The Youth was called) disdaining to be slow,  
Where such Commands gave Wings, with speed unto  
The Court was come, but busy Fame out-flew  
His eager haste, and ever's Arrival spread  
Some scattered fragments of the news, which bred  
Suspicion of that doubt full truth, from whence  
His Message leads to doleful Confidence,  
The end of the first Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The second Book. CANTO THE SECOND.  
The ARGUMENT.  

III.  
Fre●● from suspicion by a Cause that tells  
His injured Prince, Almanzor's guilt exceed●  
His great'st mistrust, from thence just anger swells,  
Till for that Fever the whole Nation bleeds.   

IV.  
Armies united in a dreadful haste,  
From distant places sad Spectators bring,  
To see by Fortune Justice so defaced,  
The Subjects here pursue a Conquered King.   
MOrea's prudent Prince, whose scars had been  
Before this Message, but like truths wrapped in  
Dark Oracles; now, with a sense enlarged,  
Beyond imperfect doubts, no longer charged  
His Judgement with Dilemmas, but in all  
The hast indulgent Love, when by the call  
Of danger frighted, could procure, without  
Staying to let slow Counsel urge a doubt,  
Which might but seem a Remora unto  
His fixed desires, having together drew;  
His Guard was marching; when, in such a haste  
As breathless speed fore-shewd they had been chased  
By some approaching danger, such as were  
Too full of truth, and loyalty to bear,  
Rebellion longer, than their thoughts could be  
Eased of the burden by discovery:  
Arrive at th' Court with this sad news, that by  
Almanzor (who forgetting Loyalty)  
Had seized Alcithiu's Castle, they were driven  
To fly their Country, since that there he strove  
To raise an Army, by whose strength he might,  
To the Sword's power subject the Sceptres right,  
By this sad news startled out of his late  
Fixed resolutions, the vexed Prince whose Fate  
Had not through all the progress of his Reign,  
Darted so many Plagues to entertain  
Them now with strength unballast, calls in haste  
His late neglected Counsel, and embraced  
This sudden, but mature advice, that he  
Should with such Forces as could soon be  
Prepared for service, having only seen  
Pharonnida, possess that straight between  
The Castle, and the Mountains, from whose rude  
Inhabitants, which Nature did include  
Within those Rocks, Rebellion soon might  
Grow to a dangerous tumour, the dim light  
Of scarce discerned Majesty, so far  
Being from them removed, that least a War,  
Inforc'd him to command their aid, they ne'er  
Herd of his Mandates, being more fit to bear  
The weight of Armour on their bodies, then  
Of Taxes on Estates, so small that when  
With all the art of Industry improved,  
For want were kept, but not for ease beloved.  
Through paths that no Vestigia showed to these  
As being retained, or lost with greatest ease;  
Since naturally unconstant, comes the King,  
Not much too late, Majestic Rays did bring  
Props to their wavering Faith that yet remained  
Unclad in lawless Arms, some being gained  
Unto Almanzor, whose revolt had brought  
That freedom those, whose subtle plots long sought  
For Innovations, wished; the sickly State  
In sad Eruptions, such as future Fate,  
From sacred truths, speaks deadly symptoms in  
Relaxes, all that order which had been  
Till now her Cement; the soft harmony  
Of peaceful Contracts, sadly silenced by  
That discord, in whose flames the Kingdom burned,  
Had all their Measures into Marches turned.  
Throughout his Dominions speedy Orders flow,  
For raising Troops; whilst with such haste, as new  
Shorn Meadows, when approaching storms are nigh,  
Tired Labourers huddle up; both parties try  
To levy Armies. The sad Scholar throws  
His Books aside, and now in practice shows  
His studied Theoricks; the stiff Labourer leaves  
Ith' half-shorn fields the uncollected sheaves,  
To female Taskers, and exchanged his hook  
Into a Sword; each busy Trade that took  
Pains in the nicer Ornaments of peace,  
Sat idle till Want forced them to increase  
The new raised Troops; that Ornament o'th' Hall,  
Old Armours, which had nothing but a Wall  
Of long time saved from the invading dust,  
From Cobwebs swept, though its Enamel rust  
Stick close, and on th' unpractised Soldier put,  
Forth of their breasts, nor fear, nor danger shut.  
Yet with an Army of this temper in  
Hast huddled up, the wand'ring Prince had been  
Enforced to fight, had not his just Cause brought  
Some loyal Gentry, such, whose Virtue sought  
Truth for reward, unto his side, with which  
He now advances more completely rich,  
In noble Valour, then's rebellious Foes,  
In numerous Troops; no Enemies oppose  
His speedy March, till being now come near  
Alcithius Fort, Almanzor's timely fear,  
Hurries him thence; his better Fate depends  
On larger hopes; unto such constant friends,  
As equal guilt by sympathy secured,  
To him he leaves the Castle, and assured  
Them of relief, with what convenient speed,  
Those of his Faction (which did only need  
His presence to confirm rebellion by,  
An injured power) could draw their Armies nigh.  
As hence he marches, each successful hour  
Augments his strength, till the unlawful power,  
Trebled his injured Princes; but as they  
Who carry guilt about them, do betray  
Her by her Sister fear, so these whose Crimes  
Detected, durst not, in more peaceful times,  
Look Justice in the face, and therefore now  
Stood veiled in Arms against her, fearing how  
She might prevail 'gainst power, march not till  
A greater strength their empty bosoms fill  
With hope, a tumour which doth oft dilate  
The narrow Souls of Cowords, till their Fare  
Flatter them into ruin, then forsakes  
Them in an Earthquake, whose pale terror shakes  
Base Souls to flight, whilst noble valour dies,  
Adorned with Wounds, Fame's bleeding Sacrifice.  
Almanzor's doubtful Army, since that here  
The threatening storm at distance did appear,  
Locked in a Calm, possessed with confidence,  
Slowly their Squadrons move, but had from thence  
Not a day's journey marched, before the sad  
News of Alcithiu's desperate danger had  
Paled o'er their Camp, which whilst the Leaders strove  
To animate, Almanzor faster drove  
On those designs, which (prospering) might prevent  
It from surrender, but the time was spent  
Too far before. The Governor that kept  
It now, against his Prince too long had slept,  
In the preceding down of peace, to be  
Awakened into valour, only he  
Had seen't kept clean from Cobwebs, and perhaps  
The Guns shot off, when those loud thunderclaps  
Proclaimed a storm of healths; yet till he saw  
The threatening danger circularly draw  
An armed Line about him, in as high  
A voice as valour, could a Foe defy,  
He clothes his fears, which shook the false disguise  
Off with the first assault, and swiftly flies  
To's Prince's mercy, whose pleased Soul he found  
Heightened, to have his first attempt thus crowned  
With Victory, which ne'er made his Army less,  
Nor steeped in blood, though travailed to success.  
To this new Conquest, as a place whose strength,  
He best might trust, if to a tedious length,  
Or black Misfortune, the ensuing War,  
His Fate should spin, his choicest treasures are,  
Together with her, in whose safety he,  
Placed Life itself, brought for security.  
This done, that now no slow delays might look  
Like fear, he with his loyal Army took  
The field, in which he'd scarce a Level chose,  
To rallie's Army, ere his numerous Foes,  
Appear on th' tops of the adjacent Hill,  
Like Clouds, which when presaging storms, do fill  
Dark Southern Regions: In a plain that lay  
So near, that both the Armies full survey,  
Might from the Cliffs, on which Alcithius stands,  
Be safely viewed, were the rebellious bands  
Of is Enemies descending, on each side  
Flanked by a River which did yet divide  
Him from the Prince, who having time to choose  
What ground to fight on, did that blessing use  
To's best advantage, on a Bridge which by  
Board's closely linked had forced an unity  
Betwixt the Banks, his Army past, he now  
Within a Plain, whose spacious bounds allow,  
Together with a large extension, all,  
An ancient Leader could convenient call.  
Removed no tedious distance from his Rear  
Stood a small Town, which, as the place took care  
How to advance so just an interest, might  
Be useful, when tired in the heat of fight,  
Strength lost in Wounds should force some thither by  
Wants which a Camp's unfurnished to supply.  
More near his Front, betwixt him, and the Plain,  
Through which Almanzor led his spacious Train,  
On a small Hill which gently rose, as though  
Its eminence, but only strove to show  
The fragrant Vale, how much nice Art outwent  
Their beauties in her brows fair Ornament,  
A splendid Palace stood, which having been  
Built but for wanton peace to revel in,  
Was as unfit for the rough hand of War,  
As boisterous Arms for tender Virgins are.  
To this, since now of consequence unto  
The first Possessor had both Armies drew;  
Commanded parties, which ere Night shut in,  
Lights latest Rays, did furiously begin  
The first hot Skirmish, which continuing till  
Dark shadows all the Hemisphere did fill,  
To such as Fear, or Novelty had sent,  
To th'hills safe tops, such dreadful prospect lent,  
By the swift rising of those sudden fires,  
In whose short close, that fatal sound expires;  
Which tells each timorous Auditor its breath,  
To distant breasts, bears unexpected death:  
That whilst their eyes direct their thoughts unto  
Their danger, whom Reward or Honour drew  
To the Encounter, all the uncouth sight  
Affords, to horror turns that strange delight▪  
These circling fires drawn near their Centre, in  
Such tumult, as Armies engaged begin  
Deaths fatal task, a dreadful sound surprised  
The distant Ear, danger, that lay disguised  
In darkness yet, now, as if wak'nd by  
The Conqueror's shouts, so general, and so high  
That it even drowned the clamourous Instruments  
Of fatal War, her Vale of sables rents,  
From round the Palace, by that horrid light,  
Which her own Turrets, through the steams of Night  
In dreadful blazes sent, discovering both  
The shadowed Armies, who like Mourners loath  
To draw too near their sorrows Centre, while  
Their friends, consume, surround the blazing Pile,  
In such a sad and terrible aspect,  
That those engaged in Action, could neglect  
Approaching danger, to behold how they  
Like Woods grown near the foot of Aetna lay,  
Whilst the proud Palace from her sinking Walls,  
In this sharp Fevers fiery Crisis falls.  
But now the Nights, as wearied with a Rain,  
So full of trouble, had resigned again,  
The earth's divided Empire, and the day  
Grown strong in light, both Armies did display  
To their full view, who to the Mountain, in  
Sad expectation of th' event, had been▪  
Early Spectators called; here, seated nigh  
Their female friends, old men exempted by  
Weakness from Wars to, rough encounters, show  
Those Colours which, their active Youth did know  
Adorn the field, when those that now engage,  
Like tender Plants, kept for the future age,  
In blooming Childhood were, 'mongst this they tell  
What Heroes in preceding Battles fell,  
Where Victory stoop to Valour, and where rend  
From brave desert by fatal Accident:  
Then ere their story can a period have,  
Show Wounds they took, and tell of some they gave.  
This sad Praeludium, to an action far  
More dismal past, the unvaild Face of War  
Looks big with horror; now both Armies draw  
So near, that their divided Brothers saw  
Each others guilt (that too too common sin  
Of civil War.) Rebellions Sons stood in  
Arms 'gainst their Fathers clad: friends that no cross  
Could dis-unite, here found the fatal loss  
Of Amity, and (as presaging blood)  
Ith' worst Aspect, sad opposition stood,  
One was their fashion, form, and discipline,  
Strict Heralds in one Scutcheon did combine  
Th' Arms of both Armies, yet all this must be  
By Wars wild rage robbed of its unity.  
Whilst like sad Saturn, ominous and slow,  
Each Army moved, some Youths set here to grow  
By forward Actions, stately Cedars, to  
Adorn Fame's Court, like shooting Stars were flew,  
So bright, so glittering, from th' unwieldy throng  
Of either Army, which being mixed among  
Each other, in a swift Numidian fight,  
Like Airs small Atoms, when discovering light  
Betrays their motion shows, some hours had passed  
In this light Skirmish, till now near Wars last  
Sad Scene arrived, as the distressed heart calls,  
Before the body deaths pale Victim falls,  
Those Spirits that dispersed by action were  
Back to their Centre, their Commanders care,  
Summons these in, that so united strength  
Might swiftly end, or else sustain the length  
Of that black storm, where yet that danger stood,  
Which must ere long fall in a shower of blood.  
A dismal silence, such as oft attends  
Those that surround the deathbeds of their friends,  
In the departing minute, reigns throughout,  
Both Armies Troops, who gathered now about  
Their several Standards, and distinguished by  
Their several colours, such variety  
Presents the eye with, that whilst the sad thought  
Beholds them but as falling branches brought  
To the decay of time, their view did bring  
In all the pleasures of the checkquerd Spring.  
Like a large field, where being confined unto  
Their several squares, here blushing Roses grew,  
There purpled hyacinths, and near to them,  
The yellow Cowslip bends its tender stem,  
To th' Mountain's top, the Army marching low,  
Within the Vale, their several Squadrons show.  
This silent time, which by command was set  
Asido to pay Confessions needful debt,  
To oft offended Heaven, whose aid though gave  
Ere asked, yet since our duty is to crave,  
Expects our prayers, the Armies from their still  
Devotion raised, declare what Spirits fill  
Their breast, by such an universal joy,  
As to get Young, and not the Old destroy,  
Each had by beauteous Paranymphs been led,  
Not to rough War, but a soft Nuptial Bed.  
That fatal hour, by time, which though it last,  
Till fixed Stars have a perfect Circle past,  
We still think short, to Action brought, which now  
So near approached, it could no more allow  
The Generals to consult, although there need,  
Nought to augment, when Valour's flame doth feed,  
High on the hopes of Victory, the rage  
Of eager Armies, ere their Troops engage  
Their several Leaders, all that Art did use,  
By which loud Wars rough Rhetoric doth infuse  
Into those bodies, on whose strength consists  
Their safety, Souls whose brave Resolves might twist  
Them into Chains of Valour, which no force  
Then death less powerful, ever should divorce.  
The Prince, as more depending on the just  
Cause that had drawn his Sword, which to distrust,  
Looks like a Crime, soon commits the day  
To Fates Arbitrement; no more delay  
Comforts the ●ainting Coward: a sad sound  
Of Cannon gave the Signal, and had drowned  
The murmuring Drum in silence, Earth did groan,  
In trembling Echoes, on her sanguine T●rone  
High mounted Horror sits, wild Rage doth fill  
Each breast with Fury, whose fierce flames distil,  
Life through th' Alimbecks of their R●ins, that Cloud  
Of dust, which when they first did move, a shroud  
Of darkness veiled them in, allayed with blood,  
Fell to the Earth, whose Clefts a crimson flood,  
Filled to the brim, and when it could contain  
No more, let forth those purple streams to slain  
The blushing fields, which being made slippery by  
Th' unnatural shower, there lets them sink and die:  
Whose empty veins rend in this fatal strife,  
Here dropped the treasure of exhausted Life.  
In sad exchange of wounds, whilst the last breath,  
Even flying forth to give another death;  
Supports the fainting Spirits, all were now  
Sadly employed, armed danger could allow,  
In this loud storm of Action, none to stand  
Idle Spectators, but each busy hand  
Labours in deaths great work, his life to sell  
At rates so dear, that Foe by which he fell,  
To boast his gain survives not; but now in  
This mart of death, blind Fortune doth begin  
To show herself Antagonist unto  
Less powerful Justice; In the common view  
Of reason, which by the external shape  
Of Actions only judges, no escape  
From their desert, Captivity, was left,  
The Rebel's Army, but th' unmanly theft  
Of secret flight, to some, protected by  
Their Fellows loss, when in a rage as high  
As if it had attempted to out-roar  
The Battles thunder, a rude Tempest bore  
From Southern Climates, on th' exalted wings  
Of new-raised winds, a change so fatal brings,  
To th' royal Army, that from victories near,  
Successful pride, unto extremes which fear  
Did ne'er suggest, it brought them back to view  
Their glorious hopes thus sadly overthrew.  
A strong reserve, raised by his friends to be  
Almanzor's rescue, if that Victory,  
Seemed to assist the juster part, was now  
Brought near the River, which endeavouring how  
To ford, they there unwillingly had been  
Detained, till strength had proved but useless in  
The Princess Conquest, if the swelling flood,  
Whose added streams (too strong to be withstood)  
Had not in that impeteous torrent tore  
That Bridge which past the royal Army o'er;  
Whose severed Boats borne down the River, made  
So sad a change, that whilst their Foes invade,  
Their Rear on them, the late lamented loss,  
Forbid the others when dispersed to cross  
Their Waves by dangers, which in each breast bred  
Terrors as great as those from whence they fled.  
The valiant Army, like Life's Citadel,  
The heart, when nought but poisonous Vapours swell  
Every adjacent part, long struggling in  
Death's sharp Convulsions, out of hopes to win  
Aught there but what buys the uncertain breath  
Of future Fame, at the high price of death;  
At length, not conquered, but o'er burdened by  
A flood of power, in Night's obscurity,  
When dreadful shadows had the field o'erspread,  
As Darkness were a Hearse-cloth for the dead;  
That this days losses might not grow too great  
For reparation, by a hard retreat,  
Attempt to save such of their strengths, as since  
Inforc'd to fly, might safely guard the Prince  
From dangers, which, could but his Foes have viewed,  
Their motions all had unto death purfued.  
In this distress, from that vast Sea of blood,  
The field where late his Army marshalled stood,  
The wretched Prince retires, but with a train  
So small they seemed, like those that did remain  
After a Deluge, where the River's course,  
(Stopped with dead bodies) run with smallest force,  
He venter's o'er the flood, whose guilty Waves,  
Blushes in blood; some few whom Fortune saves  
T' attend on his, a like successful by  
That bold adventure, whilst the Prince doth fly,  
To guard Alcithius, by his Mandates are,  
Since the disasters of this fatal War  
Forced him to seek for more assistance, sent  
To the Epic●te, striving to prevent  
Those wild reports, that on the quick belief,  
Of female fear, might be imposed by grief,  
He hasts to bear the sad Report to her,  
Whose sorrows lost to see the Messenger.  
The end of the second Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The second Book. CANTO THE THIRD  
The ARGUMENT.  

V.  
Through the dark terrors of a dreadful Night,  
The Prince to's Daughter comes with flying speed  
From dangers great, as those he feared in flight,  
Is by Argalia's forward Valour freed.   

VI  
Who having with successful Fortune gave  
His Master freedom, their joined strength pursue  
Their flying Foes unto an uncouth Cave,  
In whose vast Womb Fates dark decrees they view.   
THis last Retreat, which seemed but to defer  
Danger by being Honours Sepulchre,  
Attained in haste, there calming all the strife  
Of various Passion, since her Father's Life,  
Paid all the tears she owed his losses, he  
His virtuous Daughter found, prepared to be  
No sad addition to his sorrow by,  
The faults of female Imbecility,  
Untimely tears; but with a confidence  
High as ere taught brave Valour to dispense  
With sad disasters, armed to entertain  
The worst of Ills, to ease the Wounded's pain,  
Or stop their blood, those hands which once she thought  
Should have to Victor's Triumphs Garlands brought,  
Are now employed, yet that her Acts may be  
The best examples to posterity;  
Her present ill, she with such strength withstood,  
Its power was lost in hopes of future good.  
Precipitated from a Throne to be  
Subjected by a Subjects tyranny:  
To want their pity, who of late did know  
No peace, but what his Influence did bestow,  
With sad presaging fears, to think his fair,  
His virtuous Daughter, his rich Kingdom's Heir;  
Like to be ravished from his baffled power,  
A Trophy to a rebel Conqueror,  
With such afflicting griefs as did exclude,  
The comforts of his passive Fortitude,  
Oppressed the Prince, when now an Army led,  
By their pursuing Enemies o'erspread  
The circling fields, and brings their fear within  
The reach of th' Eye; heightened with hope to win  
That now by parl, which ere the sad success  
Of Battle made their conquered numbers less,  
He feared in fight; the confidently bold  
Almanzor in a Scroll that did unfold  
A Language, whose unreverend stile affords  
Far more of anger then his Soldiers Swords,  
Had ere stirred fear within his Prince's breast,  
His fixed Intentious thus in brief expressed;  
— Great Sir,  
NO airy tumour of untamed desire,  
Nursed my Ambition, prompts me to aspire  
To any Action that may sore above  
My Birth or Loyalty, it was the love  
I bore your virtuous Daughter, that first clad  
Me in defensive Arms, which never had  
Been else unsheathd, though't had been to defend  
Me from Injustice, should your Sword extend  
Its power to tyranny; but failing in  
That first attempt, ere streams of blood had been  
Shed in addition to those drops, my hand  
Had broke my Sword as guilty, had this Land,  
To whom I owe, for the first Air I breathed,  
Not washed the stain in tears, and since unsheathd  
It in the name of Justice; to their good,  
Which trembling on uncertain hopes hath stood,  
Whilst fearing foreign Governors, I have  
Added my love, and satisfaction crave  
For both, before a greater ill may fall,  
To make our sufferings Epidemical,  
By being slaves to some proud Tyrant, that,  
In politic Ambition reaches at  
A Kingdom by professed Affection, and,  
Marries your Daughter, to command your Land.  
This Scroll, spotted with Impudence, received  
By the vexed Prince, whom passion had bereaved  
Of politic Evasions, he returns  
A swift defiance, but his high rage burns  
Nought but his own scorched breast, the fainting fire,  
Quenched by constraint, wants Fuel to blaze higher,  
Then flashy threatenings, which since proved a folly,  
Sink in the Ashes of Melancholy;  
For which his ablest Council could prepare,  
No Cordial of advice, they rather share  
With him in sorrow, whose harsh burden grows  
Not lighter by the company of those,  
That now lend hearts to bear it, only in  
This sullen Clouds obscurity, this sin  
Of their Nativity, the noble Soul,  
Of the undaunted Princess did control,  
The harshest Lectures of her Stars, and sat,  
Unshaken in this Hyrocane of Fate;  
Calming her Father's hot adversity  
With Dews of comfort, taught him how to be  
Prince of his Passions, a Command more great,  
Then his that trembles in a regal seat.  
The Enemy that vainly had till now,  
Toiled forth their strength, no more endeavours how  
By force to conquer, some small time they knew,  
Would with the bloodless Sword of Famine do,  
More than their Cannon could, the meager Fen  
Already grew tyrannical, his men,  
Like walking Ghosts, wait on their Prince and stand  
For shadows on their Plat-forms, not a hand,  
But was unnerved with want, yet whilst each part  
Languished towered death, each bosom held a heart,  
Which though most large, could never empty he,  
Being doubly filled with grief and loyalty:  
Amongst both which, hope for a part puts in,  
As the Supporter, of what else had been  
A burden insupportable, and spoke  
This pleasing Language, that the royal Oak  
Beneath whose Winter Fortune now they stood,  
Pining for want, the withered under Wood,  
That all his miseries dropped on, yet they shall  
When ere his brighter Stars again do call  
His Fortune into light, be comforted  
By his kind shadow; which shall those that fled  
Him in this sad extreme, then leave to be  
Scorched in the Rays of angry Majesty.  
Reduced unto this pitied exigence,  
Yet by his honour, which could not dispense  
With aught that like suspicion looked, detained,  
From what by parl might have their freedom gained,  
The loyal Sufferers, to declare how far  
They fear declind, those mourning weeds of War,  
Whose fight a desperate valour doth betray,  
Black En signs on their guarded Walls display,  
When to augment their high resolves, with what  
Their valour was to pity so fined at,  
After, with all those course, though scarce Cates, they  
By sparing, first attempted to betray  
Time till relief with, they'd been fed till now  
There nought remained, that longer could allow  
Life further hopes of sustenance, to do  
An Act so great, all Ages to ensue,  
Shall more admire then imitate; within  
The Hall, appears their Sovereign, leading in  
His hand the Princess, whose first view, though dressed  
In Robes as sad as sorrow ere expressed,  
Was but the Frontiers of their grief, to what  
When nearer seen, whilst sorrow silenced at  
So sad on Object, might for death be took,  
Made solemn grief, like grave Religion look.  
Whilst all thus in sad expectation stand,  
Of future Fate, disdaining to command,  
Those whom an equal sorrow seemed to make  
His fellow Sufferers, the sad Prince thus spoke  
His fixed resolves, Brave Souls, whose loyal love,  
Oppressed by my unhappy woes must prove  
Part of my grief, since by my wretched Fate,  
Forced with my own life to precipitate  
Yours into danger, from whose reach, since by  
No Crime, until the love of Loyalty  
Become a sin, you are called guilty, yet  
Seek some evasion, 'tis not you that sit  
Upon the Throne he aims at, nor doth here  
Arrival in Pharonnida appear.  
No, 'tis our lives, our lives brave Subjects that  
His bold Ambition only reaches at,  
By this pretence, what to my Daughter, love  
To's Country's, pity called, could he remove  
Those (now but small Obstructions) soon would grow  
To's pride united, till it over flow,  
All limets of a Subjects duty, by  
Rebellious reach, usurped tyranny.  
Go then, and let not my unhappiness  
Afflict you more, i'th' shadow of distress;  
'twil like warm comforts swell my Soul to know  
That to his Favour you for safety ow.  
Did not those sacred Canons that include,  
All virtue in a Christians Fortitude,  
Obstruct our Passions progress, we, ere this,  
In death had made the haughty Rebel miss  
The glory of his Conquest, which since now  
Den●'d, although unwieldy age allow  
Not strength to sell my life at such a rate  
Honour aims at, yet shall the slow debate,  
Even in my fall, let the World know I died,  
Scorning his pity, as they hate his pride.  
Here stopped the Prince, when, as if every breast,  
One universal sorrow had possessed,  
Grief (grown into more noble passion) broke  
Th' attentive silence, and thus swiftly spoke  
Their resolution's, On, on, and lead  
Us unto death, no Critic eye shall read  
Fear through the Optics of our Souls, but give  
Command to act, here's not a heart durst live  
Without obedience; camforted with this  
Rich Cordial, from his sorrows dark Abyss  
Raised to resolves, whose greatness equalled all  
His former Glory, by their fatal fall;  
To darken the ensuing day, the Prince  
Gives a Command to all his Train, that since  
Their own free Votes elected death, they now  
With Souls that no terrestrial thought allow,  
A residence, 'gainst the next Morn prepare,  
That wished for freedom, with himself to share.  
All sadly sat, expecting but that light,  
Whose near approach must to eternal Night,  
Their last Conductor be, a sudden, still,  
And doleful silence, such as oft doth fill  
The Room where sick men slumber, when their Friends  
Stand weeping by, to Contemplation bends  
Their busy thoughts; within each troubled breast,  
Being to leave the Mansion she'd possessed  
So long, yet with so short a warning, all  
Her Faculties the frighted Soul did call,  
Forth of the Bosom of those Causes, in  
Whose form they'd fettered to their Crasis been,  
To join those powers (yet strong in living breath)  
For her assistance in the grasp of death.  
The whispering Trumpet having called them by  
Such sharp Notes, as, when powerful Foes are nigh  
Retreating Parties use, all swiftly rise  
From bended Knees, and the last Sacrifice,  
They ere expect to pay to Heaven, until  
Their Souls last gasp the vocal Orgains fill.  
Concluded was the last sad interview,  
The Prince was marched, Pharonnida withdrew.  
And now, all from the opened Ports were in  
A swift March sallying, had their speed not been  
Thus swiftlier stopped; those scattered horse that fled  
The Battle to th' Epirotes Court had sped  
So well in their Embassage, that the Prince  
Whom the least negligence might now convince  
Of want of love, proud of so fair a chance;  
To shows Affection, swiftly doth advance  
With a vast Army towered them, but the fear,  
Prevailing danger, ere their strength come near,  
To their necessitated Friends, might force  
Them to unworthy Articles, some horse  
Selected are, whose swifter speed might, (by  
A desperate charge broke through their Foes) supply  
Their fainting friends; the much desired Command  
Of these few men, committed to the ●and  
Of brave Argalia (ne'er more blest then now  
In serving the fair Princess) did allow  
His Sword so fair a field to write the story,  
Of Honour in, that his unblasted Glory,  
Beyond this day shall live, outlive the reach  
Of long-armd Envy, and those weak Souls teach,  
That fear the frowns of Fate, in spite of all,  
Heroic Virtue sits too high to fall.  
With the days close they take their March, and ere  
The silver Morning on her brow did bear  
The burnished guilt o'th' Sun's warm Rays, arrive  
In view o'th' place; when Fortune, that did strive  
To crown their hopes, had wrapped the earth in thick  
And heavy mists; the sluggish Morning sick  
Of Midnight surfeits, from her dewy bed,  
Pale, and discoloured Rose. This Curtain spread,  
To veil their plot in, they assault their Foes,  
Which when surprised could not themselves dispose,  
Fit for resistance, but whilst some did fly  
From the distracting danger, others die  
To their neglect a Sacrifice: the swift  
Alarm, like a rude winds circling drift,  
Hurries confusion through the field, and shook  
The trembling Soldier: some unclad forsook  
Their half-fired Cabbens; deaths large gripe did take  
Whole troops that Destiny ordained to wake  
No more till Doomsday, and in's march prevents  
Th' unition of unrallied Regiments.  
This frighted Language of Confusion heard,  
By those o'th' Castle, which were now prepared,  
For their last desperate Sally, switly draws  
Them to assist their friends, and though the cause,  
(Being yet unknown) was only thought to be  
Some private Jar grown to a Mutiny,  
Or else the noise the Enemy had made,  
When all their force was drawing to invade  
Them in their works, howe'er, they stand not to  
Consult with reason, but as striving who  
Shall first encounter death, each several hand  
Sought for his own from those that did withstand  
His rage-directed strength; their Cannon in  
A Funeral Peal went off, whose steam had been  
Their Covert to the Camp, where finding such  
A wild confusion, they assisted much  
The fortune of the day, which now was grown  
Indubitable, they might call their own  
A glorious Conquest, the thick sulphry cloud,  
Whose dismal shade did that destruction shroud,  
Rend with those thunderclaps, dissolved into  
A shower of blood, what she vouchsafed to do,  
Fortune lends light to show them; having left  
Their Camp, whilst darkness did protect a Theft,  
That only stole dishonour, which they were  
Now in an open flight enforced to bear;  
They see Almanzor's broken troops o'erspread  
The neighbouring fields: those clouds of men that fled,  
Being pursued by Companies so small,  
That they appeared but like those drops that fall  
After a storm. Yet as the labouring Hart  
Long struggles for that life which doth depart  
From the less noble Members, to lend aid  
To her in deaths pale Conflict, having stayed  
Some of his best Commanders, hoping by  
Their valour to recall the rest, with high  
Undaunted force, Almanzor doth oppose,  
His Enemy's pursuit, till like t' enclose  
Him in, disdaining the reproachful end,  
He must expect, no longer stands t' attend  
The glimmering light of hope: the field he leaves  
To conquering Argalia, but deceives  
Him of himself, the prize most sought for, which  
When lost beyond recovery, he grown rich  
In shining honour, that, like Sunbeams placed  
Within a field of gules, by being defaced,  
Had beautified his Armour; that dark mist,  
Which did at first such contradictions twist,  
That he both cursed, and blest it, one cause did  
Aid his design, the other cause it hid  
His Heaven of Beauty, in their dewy Bed  
Had left the blushing Roses, and was fled  
Upon the Wings of th' wind. With wonder now  
Discovered colours taught each party how,  
To know their Friends. The royal Standard in  
The Prince's party had disvellopt been,  
By that fair signal to discover, who  
Was present there: but ere Argalia to  
That place arrived, Pharonnida, who had,  
Whilst desperation all her beauties clad  
In the pale Robes of fear, heard all the loud  
Shock of the Conflict, but until the Cloud  
Removed his fatal Curtain, never knew  
How near the hour of her delivery drew;  
That being dissolved, through those which grief had raised,  
In her fair Eyes, did see, and seeing praised  
Just Heaven which sent it; each of those that  
Fought for her she commends, but wonders at,  
Although unknown, the lightning valour she  
Saw in Argalia, whilst with just rage he  
Unravels Nature's workmanship, a rent  
Which were a sin, if not a punishment,  
And from the slender web of life did send  
Forth Rebels Souls, fast as each busy Fiend,  
That wait their falls transport them, fain she would,  
Ere known, conceit 'twere he, but how he should  
Come there, and so attended did exceed  
Imagination. Thus whilst her hopes feed  
On strange desires, being come near unto  
The Coach wherein she sat, prepared to do  
His Love's Oblations, he that Face disarms,  
Which when beheld, by those attractive charms,  
Within the centre of her best desires,  
Contracted all her hopes, whose life expires,  
Soon as they're crowned with wished success; too great  
A distance parts them yet, she leaves her seat,  
And flies to his Embraces, but concealed  
Her passion in his Merit, being revealed  
To him alone, whose better judgement knew,  
That in those Spirit-breathing beams that fl●w  
Through the fair Casements of her Eyes, did move  
The secret Language of an ardent love.  
This conflict of her passions, which had been  
Fought betwixt fear and hope, was settled in  
A silent joy, that from her noble breast  
Struggled for passage, whilst Argalia blest  
Above his hopes, in burning kisses seals  
His service on her Virgin hand, that steals  
From thence new flames into her heart, which ere  
Fed with desire, even whilst she did prepare,  
To entertain those welcome Guests, appears  
The Prince, who now, thawd from the icy fears  
Of desperation, was come there to give  
Thanks to his unknown friends; but words did live  
Within a place too barren to bestow  
That fruitful zeal, whose plenty did o'erflow  
His Eyes (those clouded Orators) which till  
Disburthend did capacious passion fill.  
This moist Gale o'er, when now they had awhile  
Melted in joy, clothing it with a smile;  
He thus unfolds his comfort. Blessed Fates  
You have out-tryed my charity, he hates  
All real Virtue, that confesses not  
My care of thee, was but an unknown spot  
To this large world of satisfaction; here  
Kind sorrow stopped his voice again, when fear  
Their Enemies might rally, and i'th' bud  
Blast all their blooming joys, even whilst the blood  
Wreaked on his Sword, leaving their Eyes to pay  
Pursuing prayers, Argalia posts away,  
But finds his Foes dispersed, excepting one  
Stout Regiment, whose desperation grown  
To valour, spite of all pursuers, made  
Good their retreat; till forced at length to shade  
Themselves from the pursuing danger, in  
A deep dark Cave, whose spacious Womb had been  
Their Receptacle, when unlawful theft  
Was their profession. In this place they'd left  
Their dearest pledges, as most confident  
Those dark Meanders would their loss prevent.  
These stout Opposers being protected here,  
(Before Argalia brought his Army near)  
Had fortified the narrow pass, and now  
Presume of safety, since none else knew how,  
Without their leave to enter; Hemmed about,  
With all the Castle Foot, his Horse sent out  
To clear the field, the careful General sees,  
Then every Quarter made secure, he frees  
His own from all suspected danger, while  
This busy Siege did better things beguile  
Of some few steps of time, the Prince arrives,  
To see the Leaguer, where each Captain strives  
With entrance to be honoured, but in vain,  
The subtle Engineer here racks his Brain:  
The Mountains yield not to their Cannon shock,  
Nor mine could pierce the marble-breasted Rock.  
Thus whilst they lay despairing ere to force,  
A place so difficult, with some few Horse  
Only attended, the vexed Prince surrounds  
The spacious Hill, whose uncouth sight confounds  
His ablest Guides; making a stand to view  
A Promontory, on whose brow there grew  
A Grove of stately Cedars, from a dark  
And hidden cleft, proud of so rich a Mark;  
Some Muskets are discharged, which missing by  
A desperate Sallie's seconded, to fly  
The danger through such a dreadful way,  
As now they were to pass, was not to stay,  
But hasten ruin, though too weak, in fight  
More safety lay, than an unworthy flight.  
But Valour, like the royal Eagle, by  
A cloud of Crows ore-masterd, less to die  
With honour, had no refuge left, and that  
Here each Plebeian gains; when frighted at  
Th' unusual clamour, with such troops as were  
Most fit for speed, Argalia was come there;  
Arrived even with that minute which first saw  
His Prince a Captive; Now the Rebbels draw  
Back to their private Salliport, but are  
Too speedily pursued to enter far,  
Within their dark Meanders, ere oretook,  
By their enraged Foes, who had forsaken  
Their other stations, and to this alone,  
Drew all their Forces, entering the unknown  
And horrid Cave, whose troubled Womb till then,  
Near such a Colic felt: Argalia's men,  
(Following so brave a Leader) boldly tread  
Through the Rocks rugged Entrails; those that fled  
Though better skilled in their obscure retreat,  
No safety find; the Caves remotest seat  
Was now the stage of death, together thronged,  
After their Swords had Life's last step prolonged;  
There all the Villains in despair had died,  
Had not the fear their Prince in such a tide  
Of blood might have been shipwrackt, whom to save,  
A gen'ral Pardon to the rest is gave.  
And now the dreadful Earthquake which had turned  
The Rock to Aetna, could its top have burned,  
With Subteranean fires, being ceased, the Prince  
Desirous by his knowledge to convince,  
Those word-deep wonders, which report had spread,  
Of that strange Cave, commands some to be led  
By an old Outlaw, whose experience knew  
The uncouth Vaults remotest Corners, to  
Those seats of horror, which performed, and word  
Returned again, the danger did afford,  
Subject for nobler Spirits; forthwith he  
(Attended by Argalia) goes to see  
What had affrighted them; the dreadful way,  
Through which he passed, being steep, and rugged lay,  
Between two black and troubled streams, that through  
The cleft Rock rolled with horrid noise, till to  
An ugly Lake, whose heavy streams did lie  
Unstird with air they come, and there are by  
That black Asphaliis swallowed; a strange sound  
Of yelling Dragons, hissing Snakes confound  
Each trembling Auditor, till comforted  
By bold Argalia, venturing first to tread  
On stones, which did like ruin'd Arches lie  
Above the surface of the Lake, he's by  
Their aid brought to an ancient Tower, that stood  
Fixed in the centre of the lazy flood;  
Its Basis founded on a Rock, whose brow  
With age disfigured into clefts, did now  
With loud and speedy ruin threaten to  
Crush all beneath it; round about it flew  
On sooty wings such ominous Birds as hate  
The cheerful day, Vipers, and Scorpions sat  
Circled in darkness, till the cold damp breath  
Of near concreted Vapours, singed to death,  
By th' numerous light of Torches, which did shine  
Through the whole Mountains Convex, and refin●  
Aire with restraint corrupted, forcing way,  
By conquering flames recals the banished day.  
Come now to a black Tower, which seemed to be  
The Throne of some infernal Deity,  
That his extended Laws reaches unto  
The brazen Gate, whose folded Leaves withdrew,  
Assault their eyes with such a flux of light,  
That as the dim Attendants of the Night,  
In bashful duty shun the Prince of Day,  
So their lost Tapors unto this give way;  
Whilst it with wonder, that belief out-grew,  
Transports their sights to the amazing view  
Of so much beauty, that the use of sense  
Was lost in more than humane excellence.  
A glorious Room, so elegantly fair,  
In ' t● various structure, that the riotous Heir  
O he eastern Crescent that might choose to be  
The Theatre of shining Majesty  
They now behold, yet than its mighty strength,  
Which had preserved such beauty from the length  
Of Age's ire Talons, there appear  
More rare perfections, the large floor of clear  
Transparent Emeralds, lent a lustre to  
The Oval Roof, whose scarce-seen ground was blue,  
Studded with sparkling Gems, whose brightness lent  
The beauties of the vaulted Firmament,  
To all beneath their beams; the figured walls,  
Embossed with rare and antic sculptry, calls  
For th' next observance, though the serious eye,  
The way to truth in secret mystery  
He e having l●st, le's the dark Text alone,  
To view the beauties of a glorious Throne,  
Which placed within the splendid Room, did stand  
Beneath an Ivory Arch, o'er which the hand  
Of Art, in golden Hierogliphics, had  
The story of ensuing Fate unclad,  
But vainly, since the Art defective times,  
Stro●k nought but discords on those wel-tuned Chimes.  
Upon the Throne, in such a glorious state,  
As earth's adored Favourites there sat,  
The Image of a Monarch, vested in  
The spoils of Nature's Robes, whose price had been  
A Diadems redemption, his large size,  
Beyond this Pigmy Age, did equalise  
Th' admired proportion of those mighty men,  
Whose cast-up bones, grown modern wonders, when  
Found out, are carefully preserved to tell  
Posterity, how much these times are fell  
From Nature's youthful strength, if be not worse,  
Our sins Stenography, the dwarfish Cu●se  
Ordained for large sized Luxury: before  
The Throne a Lamp, whose fragrant Oils had more  
Perfumed the Room, than all the ba●my wealth  
Of rich Arabia, stood: Light, Life, and Health,  
Dwelled in its Odours, but what more contents,  
The pleased Spectators, that fai● hand presents  
The rest to th' view: the Image to declare  
Of whom th' Effigies was, on's Front did bear  
A regal Crown, and in his hand sustained,  
A threatening Sceptre, but what more explained  
Antiquities mysterious dress was seen,  
In a small Tablet, which, as if 't had been  
Worth more observance, than what Fate expressed  
In unknown Figures he did gently rest  
His left hand on, as if endeavouring by  
That Index to direct Posterity;  
How in their wonders Altitude to praise  
The deeper knowledge of those wiser days,  
By reading in such Characters as Time  
Learnt in her nonage (this) in antic Rhyme.  
When striving to remove this Light,  
To Princes Leaves involved in Night;  
The time draws near, that shall pull down  
My old Morea's triple Crown,  
Uniting on one royal Head,  
What to disjoin such discord bred,  
But let the more remote ●ake heed,  
For there's a third ordained to bleed;  
For when I'm read, not understood,  
Then shall Epiru's royal blood,  
By ways no Mortal yet must know,  
Within th' Artolian Channel flow.  
This strange Inscription read, not only by  
The Prince, but those whom wonder had drawn nigh  
The sacred Room, their Fancies civil War,  
Grows full of trouble, 'tis a Text so far  
Beyond a Comment, that their Judgements in  
Enigmas mazed, had long let motion been  
In Epeleptick wonder lost, until  
(As that alone contained their dreaded ill)  
The greater part with joined consents advise,  
To have the Lamp removed, since in it lies,  
(If those Lines prove prophetic) the linked Fate  
Of all jetian Princes, which debate,  
Being carried in th' Affirmative, the rest  
Drew back, whilst bold Argalia forward pressed;  
But's thus soon stayed, the stone on which he stepped,  
Next, was by Art so framed, that it had kept  
Concealed an Engines chiefest Spring, which by  
The least weight touched, in furious haste let fly  
Unpractised wheels, and with such vigour struck,  
The Sceptre on the long lived Lamp, it shook  
Its crystal Walls to dust, not thunders strong  
Exagitations, when it roars among  
Heaps of congested Elements, a sound  
More dreadful makes, but what did most confound  
Weak trembling Souls, was the thick darkness that  
Succeeds the dying flame, which wondering at,  
Whilst all remain, Arts feeble aides supply  
The Lamps lost Virtue, with new Lights, but by  
Cold Damps so darkened, that contracted Night  
Scorned their weak flames, showing that hallowd light  
Contained more sacred Virtues; now as Fate,  
Had only to that hour prolonged the date  
Of all within, a sudden change to dust,  
The mighty body turns, consuming rust,  
Had eat the brazen Imagery, and left  
No sign of what till then, safe from the theft  
Of time remained, darkness had repossessed  
The sullen Cave, to an eternal rest;  
In the rude Chaos of their ashes, all  
Arts lively Figures in an instant fall.  
Pleased with the sight of these strange Objects more,  
Then with Wars dangers he was vexed before;  
The Prince with all his train of Conquerors now,  
Is gone to teach th' expecting Army how  
To share their wonder, but not far from thence,  
Removes before confirmed Intelligence,  
Acquaints him with th' Epirots March, who in  
Miss swift advance, so fortunate had been,  
That falling on such as the Morning's flight,  
Flattered with hope, they there met endless Night;  
At unawares; but of these added numbers,  
Was cursed Almanzor none, yet Justice slumbers  
Ith' prosecution of his unripe Fate,  
Which must more horrid ●ins accumulate;  
Before cut off, his clamorous guilt must call  
For vengeance louder, and grow hectical  
With Custom, till the Tables of his shame,  
Into oblivion rot his loathed Name.  
The end of the third Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The second Book. CANTO THE FOURTH.  
The ARGUMENT.  

VII.  
From Wars wide breaches, whence his brave friends had  
With Victory brought him, th' old Prince arrived  
In safety, whilst fear punishes the bad  
Rewards that Virtue, which his Cause revived.   

VIII.  
In which brave Act, Argalia's Merits met  
With a reward that even desert out-grew,  
Whilst him it the fair Princess Guardian set,  
The root on which Loves fruit to ripeness grew.   
THat too inferior Branch, which strove to rise  
With the Basillick to Anastomize;  
Thus drained, the State's Plethoric humours are  
Reduced to Harmony; that blazing Star,  
Which had been lifted by rebellious breath,  
To's exaltation in the house of death;  
Now lay oppressed, which Victory complete,  
Leaving his Army, where before the seat  
O●h ' Rebels was, his entertainment by,  
The welcome Harbinger of Victory,  
Before prepared, the pleased Epirot goes  
With an exalted joy to visit those,  
His goodness (whilst unknown) relieved, where he  
Such noble welcome finds, as not to be  
Imagined, but by grateful Souls that know  
The strength of Courtesy, when 'twould o'erflow  
Those Merits, which whilst Love incites to praise  
Our friends deserts, to Pyramids we raise,  
The narrow Confines of Alcithius Wall,  
Which kept them safe from dangers past, too small  
Grows for that present triumph, that blot out  
All thoughts of grief, but what are spent about  
thanksgiving for delivery, which they do  
Perform in sports, whose choice delights might woe  
Cold Anchorites from their sullen Cells, the Earth,  
The Air, the Sea, all in a plenteous birth,  
Exhausted their rich Treasuries to pay  
Tribute to their desires, which could time stay  
Her Chariot wheels from hurrying down the Hill  
Of feeble Nature, man's vain thoughts would fill  
With subaltern delights, most highly prized,  
Till the conclusion (death) hath annalized  
The doubtful Text, with what lets Mortals know  
Their blooming joys must drop to shades below.  
That great eclipse of Glories rays, within  
Whose shades sad Corinth had benighted been:  
Since like a widowed Turth, first she sat  
A Mourner for her wand'ring Princes fate;  
Now like the days recovered Rain breaks forth,  
In fuller Luster; all excelling worth  
That honoured Virtue, or loved beauty placed  
Her Ornaments, with their appearance graced  
Those public triumphs, she prepares to meet  
The Princes in, in every splendid street;  
The various pride of Persia strove t' outvie  
Rich English Wool, dipped in the Tyrian Dye:  
Each Shop shines bright, and every Merchant shows,  
How little to domestic toil he owes,  
By the displaying beauteous Wardrobes, where  
The worlds each part may justly claim a share,  
Though what in all Arts stiff Contention lent  
Most lustre was the Windows Ornament,  
Fair Constellations of bright Virgins, that  
Like ful-blown Flowers, first to be wondered at,  
Display their beauties, but that past, with all  
Tempt some kind hand to pluck them ere they fall.  
Their entrance in this triumph made, whilst now  
Each busy Artist is endeavouring how  
To court their Fancies, times small stock t'improve  
The grave Epirot, whose designs toward Love;  
Yet only by Ambition led, had made  
His first approach so seeming retrograde,  
By States nice Cautions; and what did presage  
More ill the inequality of age,  
That when Converse his Fancy Captive led,  
His largest hopes on the thin Diet fed  
Of a Paternal power, assisted by  
Whose useful aid, with all the industry  
Of cager Love, he still augments that fire,  
Which must consume, not satisfy desire.  
But as occasion warned him to prevent  
Unequal flames, he but few days had spent  
In Love's Polemmicks, ere unpractised Art,  
From this calm field, to wars more serious part  
Is sadly summoned, those large Conquests he  
Had triumphed in, whilst glorious Victory  
Waited on's Sword, too spacious to be kept  
Obedient whilst that glittering terror slept,  
In an unactive peace, disclaiming all  
The harsh Injunctions of proud Victors, fall  
Off from's obedience, and to justify  
Their bold revolt, to th' unsafe refuge fly,  
Of a defensive power, to crush whose pride  
With such a force, as an impeteous tide  
Assaults the shores defence, he's forced to take  
A march so sad as Souls, when they forsake  
The wel-known Mansions of their bodies, to  
Tread deaths uncertain paths, and there renew  
Acquaintance with Eternity, perplexed  
To hear those new Combustions, but more vexed  
With Love's proud flames burning, in which we'll leave  
Him on his hasty Voyage, and receive  
A smile from the fair Princess fate, which till  
Enjoyment stifles strong desire, will fill  
The tragic Scene no more, but with as sad  
A progress to her hopes, as ever had  
Poor Virgin to the Throne of Love, will frame  
Those harsh Philacters, which in Cupid's name,  
She must obey, unless she will dispense  
With sacred Vows, and Martyr Innocence.  
These storms blown o'er, and the Epirot gone,  
Her Father, that till now had waited on  
His Entertainment, with a serious eye,  
Looks o'er his Kingdom's wounds, and doth supply  
Each part, which in this late unnatural War  
Was grown defective, unto some that are  
Not Lethargized in Ill, he gently lays  
Refreshing Mercies, sometimes danger stays  
From an approaching Gangrene, by applying  
Corroding threats, but unto those that flying  
All remedies prescribed, had mortified  
Their Loyalty, stern Justice soon applied  
The Sword of Amputation, which care past,  
As 'twas his greatest, so becomes his last.  
Pharonnida he places, where she might,  
At once enjoy both safety and delight.  
Her thoughts clear calm, too smooth for th' turbuler  
And busy City, wants that sweet content  
The private pleasures of the Country did  
Afford her Youth, but late attempts forbid  
All places far remote, which to supply,  
He unto one directs his choice, that by  
Its situation did participate  
Of all those rural privacies, yet sat  
Clothed in that flowery Mantle, in the view  
Oth' Castle Walls, which as placed near it to  
Delight, not trouble, in full bulk presents,  
Her public Buildings various Ornaments.  
This beauteous Fabric, where th' industrious hand  
Of Art had Nature's Midwife proved, did stand  
Divided from the Continent, by th' wide  
Arms of a spacious stream, whose wanton pride,  
In Cataracts from th' Mountains broke, as glad  
Of liberty to court the Valley, had  
Curled his proud Waves, and stre●cht them to enclose  
That type of Paradise, whose Crown-top rose  
From that clear Mirror, as the first light saw,  
Fair Eden ' mids the Springs of Havilah;  
So fresh as if its verdant Garments had  
Been in the first Creation's beauties clad  
E'er by mistaking of the fatal Tree,  
That blooming type of blessed Eternity,  
Subjected was, by man's too easy Crime,  
Unto the sick Vicissitudes of time.  
Nor was she in domestic beauty, more  
Than Prospect rich, the wand'ring eye passed o'er  
A flowery Vale, smooth, as it had been spread  
By Nature, for the Rivers fragrant Bed.  
At th' opening of that lovely Angle met  
The City's Pride, as costlier Art had set  
That Masterpiece of Wit and Wealth, to show  
unpolished Nature's pleasures were below  
Her splendid beauties, and unfit to be  
Looked on, less in the Spring's variety:  
Though from the Palace where in prospect stood  
All that nice Art, or plainer Nature wood;  
If in Contention, show to magnify,  
Their power did stand, yet now appeared to vie  
Ehat Prospect, which the City lent, unless  
Diverted from that civil Wilderness:  
The pathless Woods, and ravenous Beasts within  
Whose bulk were but the Metaphors for sin;  
We turn to view the stately Hills, that fence  
The other side o'th' happy Isle, from whence  
All that delight or profit could invent  
For rural pleasures was for prospect sent.  
As Nature strove for something uncouth in  
So fair a dress, the struggling streams are seen,  
With a loud murmur rolling 'mongst the high  
And rugged clefts, one place presents the eye  
With barren rudeness, whilst a neighbouring field  
Sits clothed in all the bounteous spring could yield,  
Here lovely Landscapes, where thou mightst behold,  
When first the Infant Morning did unfold  
The Day's bright Curtains, in a spacious Green,  
Which Natures curious Art had spread between  
Two bushy Thickets, that on either hand,  
Did like the Fringe of the fair Mantle stand,  
A timorous herd of grazing Deer, and by  
Them in a shady Grove, through which the eye  
Could hardly pierce, a wel-built Lodge, from whence  
The watchful Keeper's careful diligence,  
Secures their private walks, from hence to look  
On a deep Valley, where a silver Brook,  
Doth in a soft and busy murmur slide  
Betwixt two Hills, whose shadows strove to hide  
The liquid wealth, they were made fruitful by,  
From full discoveries of the distant eye.  
Here from fair Country Farms that had been  
Built 'mongst those Woods, as places happy in  
Their privacy, the first salutes of light,  
Fair Country-Virgins meet, cleanly, and white,  
As were their milky loads; so free from pride,  
(Though truly fair) that justly they deride  
Courts nice Contentions, and by freedom prove  
More blest their Lives, more innocent their Loves.  
Ea●ly as these appears within the field,  
The painful Husbandman, whose Labour steeled  
With fruitful hopes, in a deep study how  
T' improve the Earth, follows his slow-paced Blow.  
Near unto these a Shepherd having took  
On a green Bank, placed near a purling Brook,  
Protection from the Sun's warm beams, within  
A cool fresh shade, truly contented in  
That Solitude, is there endeavouring how  
On's wel-tuned Pipe, to smooth the furrowed brow  
Of careful want, seeing not far from hence  
His flock (the Emblems of his Innocence)  
Where the more lofty Rock admits not these  
Domestic pleasures, Nature there did please  
Herself with wilder pastimes, on those Cliffs  
Whose rugged ●eads the spacious Mountain lifts  
To an unfruitful height, amongst a wild  
Indomitable herd of Goats, the mild  
And fearful Coney, with her busy feet,  
Makes Warmth and Safety in one Angle mee●.  
From this wild range, the eye contracted in  
The Islands narrow bounds would think't had been  
Ith' world before, but now were come to view  
An Angel-guarded Paradise till to  
A Pictures first rude Catagraph, the Art  
Of an ingenious Pencil doth impart  
Each Compliment of skill, or as the Court  
To the rude Country, as each Princely sport  
That brisks the blood of Kings, to those which are  
The gross-souled Peasants rude delight, so far  
These Objects differ, here wel-figured Nature  
Had put in form, and to a goodly stature;  
On whose large bulk more lasting Arts were spent,  
Added the dress of choicest Ornament.  
The stately Mount, whose artificial Crown,  
The Palace was, to meet the Vale stole down  
On soft descents, by labour forced into  
A fliding Serpentine, whose winding Clew,  
An easy, but a slow descent did give  
Unto a purling stream, whose Spring did live,  
When from the Hills cool Womb broke forth, within  
A Grotto, whence before it did begin  
To take its weeping farewell, into all  
The various Forms restrictive Art could call,  
Her Elemental Instruments unto  
Obedience by it, Courts th' admiring view  
Of pleased Spectators, here exalted by  
Clear Aqueducts, in showers, it from those high  
Supporters falls, now turned into a thin  
Vapour, in that Heaven's painted Bow is seen;  
Now it supplies the place of Air, and to  
A Choir of Birds gives breath, which all seemed flew  
From thence for fear, when the same Element  
With such a noise as Seas imprisoned rent,  
Including Rocks do roar, which rude sound done;  
As noble Conqueror's who the Battle won,  
From the loud thunders of impeteous War,  
To the calm fields of peaceful Mercies are  
By manly pity led, so Pro●eus like,  
Returned from what did fear or wonder strike;  
The liquid Nymph resuming her own shape,  
Within a Marble square, a clear escape,  
Till from her winding stream the River takes  
Still fresh supplies, from that fair Fountain makes  
Upon those Banks which guarded her descent,  
Both for her Odour, and her Ornament,  
Lilies, and fragrant Roses there were set;  
To heighten whose perfume, the Violet  
And maiden Primrose in their various dress,  
Steal through that Moss, whose humble lowliness,  
Preserve their beauties, whilst Aurora's rose  
And that ambitious Flower that will disclose  
The ful-blown beauties of herself to none,  
Until the Sun mounts his Meridian Throne:  
Like envied worth, together with the view  
Of the Beholders, being exposed unto  
Each storms rough breath, in that Vicissitude,  
Finds that their pride their danger doth include,  
When scorched with heat, or burdened with a shower,  
From blooming beauty sinks the fading Flower;  
Though here defended by a Grove that twined  
〈◊〉 Embraces, and with boughs combined,  
Protects the 〈…〉, which it ne'er leaves,  
Till thence the Vale its flowery wealth receives.  
Placed as the nobler Faculty to this  
Of vegitation, like an Emphasis,  
Amongst the flowers of Rhetoric did stand  
The gorgeous Palace, where Arts curious hand  
Had to exceed example centered in  
One exact Model, what had scattered been:  
But as those Fragments which she now selects,  
The glory of all former Architects,  
Here did the beauties of those Temples shine,  
Which Ephesu●, or sacred Pallastine,  
Once boasted in, the Persian might from this  
Take Patterns for his famed Pers●polis:  
This, which had that fair Carian Widow known,  
Mausolea's Tomb had ne'er a Proverb grown,  
But been esteemed, after her cost, by her  
That did erect, a homely Sepulchre.  
Though to describe this Fabric, be as far  
Above my Art, as imitations are  
Beneath its worth, yet if thy Fancies eye  
Would at its outside glance, receive it by  
This cloudy Medium; on a stately square,  
Which powerful Art forced to a level, where  
The Mountain highest rose, compassed about  
With a thick Grove, whose levy Veil let out  
Its beauties so, 'tis at a distance seen,  
A silver Mount enamelled o'er with green;  
The shining Palace stood, whose outward form  
Though such, as if, built for perpetual storm▪  
Yet in that strength appeared but armed to be,  
Beauty's Protector, whose variety  
Though all met in an Artful gracefulness,  
In every Square put on a several dress.  
The sides whose large Balcones conveyed the Ey  
To th' Filds wild Prospects, were supported by  
A thousand Pillars, where in mixture shone  
The Parian white and red Corinthian stone,  
Supporting Frames, where in the like Art stood  
Smooth Ivory mixed with India's swarthy wood:  
All which with Gold, and purer Azure brought  
From Persian Artists, in Mosaicks wrought:  
The curious Eye into Meanders led,  
Until diverted by a sight that bred  
More real wonder, the rich Front wherein  
By antic sculpture, all that ere had been  
The various Acts of their preceding Kings,  
So figured was, no weighty Metal brings,  
Ought to enhance its worth, Art did compose,  
Each Emblem of such various Gems, all chose  
Their several colours, under a Saphir Sky,  
Here cheerful Emeralds, chaste Smaragdi lie;  
A fresh green field, in which the armed Knights  
Were all clad in heart-cheering Chrysolites,  
With Rubies set, which to adorn them twist  
Embraces with the temperate Amethyst:  
For parts unarmed, here the fresh Onyx stood,  
And Sardias' stone appeared like new-drawn blood.  
The Proteus' like Achates here was made,  
For Swords fair Hi●ts, but for the glittering Blade,  
(Since all of rich and precious Gems was thus)  
Composed, was shown of flaming Piropus.  
And lest ought here that's excellent should want,  
The Lady's Eyes were shining Adamant.  
These glorious Figures large, as if that in  
Each common Quar these glittering Gems had been  
By sweaty Labourers digged, united by  
Successful Art unto the distant Ey;  
Their mixed beams with such splendid Luster sent,  
That Comets, with whose fall the Firmament,  
Seems all on fire, amazes not the sight,  
With such a full and sudden Flux of Light:  
As Lines extended from their Centre, hence  
Unto the Islands clear circumference,  
Four flowery Glades, whose odoriferous dress,  
Tempted the weary to forgetfulness;  
Cutting the Mountain, into Quadrants led,  
Into the Valley, Pleasures humbler Bed;  
Where come (if Natures stock can satisfy  
The Fancy at the Fountains of the Eye)  
'Twas here performed in all that did include,  
What active mirth, or sacred solitude,  
Could happy call, Groves never seen by th' Eye  
Oth' Universe, whose pleasing privacy,  
Was more retired from treacherous light then those,  
To hide from Heaven, Earth's first Offender chose.  
When Contemplation the kind Mother to,  
All thoughts that ere in sacred rapture flew  
Toward Celestial Bowers, had here refined  
The yet imperfect Embrioes' of the mind;  
To recreate contracted Spirits by,  
The Souls best Medicine, fresh variety;  
An easy walk conducts them unto all  
That active Sports did ere convenient call.  
All which, like a fair Theatre by th' Bank  
Oth' River verged, was guarded by a Rank  
Of ancient Elms, whose lofty Trunks embraced,  
By clasping Vines, with various colours graced  
Their spreading branches, whose proud brows being crowned  
With stately Walks, did from that ample round,  
The wel-pleased Eye to every place convey,  
That in the Islands humble levelly lay.  
To guard her Court, a hundred Gentlemen,  
Such as had glorified their Valour, when  
Tried in her Father's Wars attended, which  
Commanded by Argalia, did enrich  
His Merit with such fair reward, that all  
His better Stars, should they a Synod call;  
Those fires convened ne'er with more glorious Light,  
Could clothe his hopes, his Fortune's dim-eyed Night,  
Inflamed to Noon, and the fai● Princess blest  
By the same power; for though his Fate invest  
His noble Soul within the obscure Mask  
Of an unknown descent, his Fame shall ask  
In time to come a Chronicle, and be  
The Glory of that royal Family,  
From whence he sprung: but ere he must attain  
The top of Fortune's Wheel, that Iron Chain,  
By whose linked strength it turns, too oft will grate  
Him with most hot Afflictions, his wise Fate  
Digs deep with Miseries, before it lays  
The ground-fork of his Fame, which then shall raise  
On the firm Basis of Authentic story,  
To him eternal Pyramids of Glory.  
Thou that art skilled in Love's Polemmicks here,  
Wish they may rest awhile, and though drawn near  
A sadder Fate, if pi●y says to rath,  
'Tis to let sorrow sad the Scene, we'll bathe  
Our Pen awhile in Nectar, though we then  
Steep it in Gall again; the Spring did, when  
The Princess first did with her presence grace  
This house of pleasure, with soft Arms embrace  
The Earth his lovely Mistress, clad in all  
The painted Robes, the Morning's Dew let fall●  
Upon her Virgin Bosom; the soft breath  
Of Zephyrus sung calm Anthems at the death  
Of Palsie-shaken Winter, whose large Grave  
The Earth, whilst they in fruitful tears did leave,  
Their pious grief turned into smiles, they throw  
Over the Hearse a Veil of Flowers, the low  
And pregnant Valleys swelled with fruit, whilst Heaven  
Smiled on each blessing its fair hand had given.  
Be-calmd on this paciffick Sea of pleasure,  
No boisterous Wave appearing, the rich treasure  
Of Love, being ballast with Content, did fear  
No threatening storm, so safe a Harbour near,  
As th' Object whence it sprung: such royal sports  
As take their birth from the triumphant Courts  
Of happy Princes, did contract the day  
To pitied beauty, time steals away  
On downy feet, whose loss since it bereaves  
Them of no more than what new birth receives,  
From the next teeming day, by none is thought  
Worth the lamenting; sometimes rocked in the soft  
Arms of the calmest pleasures, they behold,  
A sprightly Comedy, the sins unfold  
Of more corrupted times, then in its high  
Cothurnal Scenes, a lofty Tragedy  
Erects their 〈◊〉, and doth at once invite  
To various Passions, So●●ow and Delight.  
Time (Motions a●ed 〈◊〉) includes  
Not more in all the 〈…〉,  
Then their oft changing 〈…〉  
When the Sun's lofty pride 〈…〉  
The Earth's imbroiderd Robes, 〈…〉  
And palsy hand did those fresh 〈…〉  
Up in her hoary Plush, each Seas●● 〈…〉  
Delights of 'tis own, such a beguiled 〈…〉  
It's stock of hours unwasted on, in chaste,  
Though private sports, here happy Lovers 〈◊〉  
Fancy's fresh Youth, whose first attempts did pro●●  
Too innocent for th' Sophistry of Love;  
There scornful beauty, or the envious eye  
Of jealous Rivals ne'er afflicts, all by  
An equal and a noble height so blest,  
Pride none had raised, nor poverty depressed.  
The end of the fourth Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The second Book. CANTO THE FIFTH.  
The ARGUMENT.  

IX.  
Whilst serene Joy sat smiling in her Court,  
As shadows to illustrate Virtue by  
Fantastic Love becomes the Princess sport,  
Whose harsher Dictates she ere long must try.   

X.  
For now Suspicion (Virtues secret Foe)  
Fired with Argalia's just deserved Fame,  
Makes her great Father think each Minute slow,  
Till separation had allayed the Flame.   
Jest that her Court, which seems composed of all  
That's great, or good, th'o'erweening world should ca●  
Perfections height, a word which whilst on Earth,  
(Vain as delight) only from Name takes birth,  
In this, the largest and most glorious sphere,  
Ere Greatness moved in, some few Stars appear,  
To Virtue retrograde, th' informing Spirit  
(Love) by whose motion, on the Pole of Merit,  
This bright Orb turned, even 'mongst these Heroes finds  
A pair of Followers, whose imperfect minds  
Transgressed his Dictates, and though no offence  
So full of guilt, as foul Incontinence,  
Durst here approach, by ways less known unto  
What Love intends, those various Figures drew,  
Whose Aspects ne'er more near Conjunction move,  
Then Eyes, the slight Astronomy of Love.  
That new Platonnick Malady, the way  
By which imperfect Eunuches do betray  
Nature's Diseases to contempt, whilst by  
Such slight repast, they strive to satisfy  
Loves full desires, which pines, or else must crave  
More than thin Souls in separation have;  
Being lately by some sick phantastics brought,  
But near the Court, within it long had sought  
For residence, till entertained by two  
Whose meeting Souls no more distinction knew,  
Then Sex, a difference which whilst here it grows,  
Toward Heaven, it to Corporeal Organs owes.  
But since that these so uncouth Actors here,  
But as Intruders on the Scene appear,  
Ere in their story we engulf too far,  
Let's first behold them in their Character:  
If ere thy sober Reason did submit,  
To suppling Mirth (that wanton Child of wit)  
Beholding A Fantastic, dressed in all  
His vain delights, what's Annalogical  
To our Acretius, then conceive thou'st seen,  
Though if compared, those short to him had been,  
As Transcripts are to Copies; to complete  
A Humorist here, Folly had close a seat,  
'Mongst more than vulgar knowledge, and might pass  
The same account, an Academic Ass  
Makes of his Fathers four year Charge, when he  
Frights Villagers with shreds of Sophistry.  
'Mongst foreign parts, of which like Coriate,  
he'd run through some, he had acquired to prate  
By privilege, and as if every Nation  
Contributed, is in each several fashion;  
Which (like their Tongues) all so imperfect find,  
That both disguised his body and his mind;  
Though self conceit (vain Youths fantastic Crime)  
Made him steal singly from the Front of time,  
Ith' Medium, which but seldom proves the seat,  
For Lust's wildfire, or Zeals reflected heat,  
He amorous grows, and doubting to prevail,  
For all his Wings caught Pegasus by th' Tail;  
And being before with Cupidi Engines fitted,  
From his Posteriors doubly was inspired.  
She that at first this sympathetick flame,  
Inspired him with the Court, knew by the Name  
Of Philanta, to whom all would impair  
Their skill, that gave that Epithet of fair  
Except Acretius, since her beauty fit  
For praises was, where paralleled by wit.  
Yet, now, although times sad discovery tells  
Her Autumn's furrows were no parallels,  
In Beauty's sphere, those youthful forms being grown  
So obsolete, scarce the Vestigia's shown  
A Native pride, and strange fantastic dress,  
More admiration then ere comeliness  
Could do, acquires: She formerly had been  
A great Admirer of Romances, in  
Whose Garb she now goes dressed; a medley piece,  
Made up of India, Turkey, Persia, Greece,  
With other Nations, all enforced to be  
Comprised within five feet Stenography.  
Her Wit that had been critical, and ranged  
'Mongst Ladies more than th' Ushers legs, was changed,  
To gratify, and every word she said,  
An Apothegme unto the Chambermaid,  
From whom her long experienced knowledge in  
Some of the female mysteries of sin,  
Had gained the applause of being skilled in all  
That could prevent decaying Beauties fall.  
Acratius and she, being such a pair,  
As Nature, when tired with more serious care,  
For Recreation made, instructed by  
Their meeting Nature's secret sympathy;  
Soon learn to love, but as if now too wise  
For Youths first dictates, Loves loose Rules comprise  
In such strike bounds, that each the Object saw  
Of their desires, like sacred things, some Law,  
Fear made obeyed, forbids the world to use,  
Lest the Adored, enjoyment should abuse  
Into contempt, nor are their meetings in  
Those plainer paths (which their nice Art calls sin)  
At all performed, that the dull road unto  
The Bridal Bed; this the fantastic Clew  
To a delight, which doth in Labyrinths sit,  
None ere beheld, while they preserved their wit.  
Like wanton Jove committing secret Rapes  
On mortal Beauties, they transmute their shapes,  
At every interview, now in address  
Resembling an Arcadian Shepherdess;  
She in the Woods encounters him, whilst he  
Armed like a furious Knight, resolved to be  
Her Ravisher approaches, but being by  
Her prayers charmed into pity, there doth lie,  
Fettered in soft Embraces; now he must  
Turn Hermit, and be tempted unto Lust,  
By her a Lady errand; like distressed  
Lovers, whose hopes by rigid Friends oppressed,  
Pines to despair, they now are wand'ring in  
Unhanted Groves, whose pensive shades had been,  
So oft their shady Veil, that every Tree,  
In wreaths where Love lay wrapped in mystery,  
Held their included Names, a subtle way,  
To the observant Courties to betray  
Their serious folly, which, from being their own  
Delight, was now the sport o'th' Pages grown;  
The pleasant Offsprings of whose wanton wit,  
Disturbs their peace, that though secured they fit,  
In shady Deserts, with as much of fear,  
As wand'ring Ladies, when the Giants near,  
They're still possessed; less tertible were all  
The dreadful Objects Ammadis de Gaul,  
Or wittier Quixote, from their Enemies  
Ere met, then was the fear of a surprise,  
By those which did such strict observance take,  
They thus their folly the Courts laughter make.  
Near to the Islands utmost Verge did lie  
Retired even from Heavens universal Eye,  
A deep, dark Vale, whose Night-concealing shade,  
By a fresh Rivers silver stream was made  
So sweetly cool, it often did invice,  
Pharonnida to meet the smooth delight  
Of calm retirement there, where to impart  
With Nature's Bounty all that liberal Art  
Though fit for so remote a pleasure, stood,  
A Grotto where, the Macrocosmes cold blood,  
Run more dispersed in various Labyrinths than  
It circulates within the Veins of men.  
Hither th' inventive Lovers, who long sought  
Some way which Fancy near her Followers taught,  
T' express their serious folly in, repair,  
Oft as the Sun made th' insalubrious Air,  
Unfit for public walks; to entertain  
Them here, with what exceeded all their vain  
Delights before, newly erected by  
Successful Art, each various Deity,  
Old Fancy placed the Seas Commanders, here  
They with delight behold, but when drawn near,  
They saw i'th' midst o'th' blue-eyed Tritons placed  
Neptune and The●●s Chariot, yet not graced  
With their unfinished figures: this they took,  
For so much favour, as they had forsaken  
Their Thrones to give them place, but what adds yet  
More to the future mirth, they swiftly fit  
Themselves with Habits, such as Art had drew  
Its Fancies in, both of their Robes being blue;  
Enchased with silver streams, their heads with fair  
Dishevelled Perrywigs of Sea-green hair;  
Were both adorned, circling whose Crowns they wore,  
Wreathd Coronets of Flags, his right hand bore  
A Golden Trident here (yet hardly red)  
As if new plucked from the Seas frothy Bed,  
A branch of Coral: but whilst here they sit  
Proudly adorned, both void of Fear, as Wit;  
The Gates o'th' Grotto, swiftly shutting in  
A Torrent, such as if they'd seated been  
At Nile's loud Cataracts, by ways before  
Unseen break forth, by which the Engine bore  
From its firm station, floats aloft, and by  
A swift withdrawing of those Bays, which rye  
Floods from commerce, is wafted forth into  
A spacious Pool, where the bold Artist drew  
Th' unfathomed Sea's Epitome, within  
A circling Wall, but such as might have been  
A pattern to Rome's big bulked pride, when they  
Showed Seas loud Battles, for the Lands soft play.  
Our amorous Humorists, that must now appear,  
These narrow Seas Commanders, shaken with fear,  
Sat trembling, whilst the shril-voiced Tritons sound  
Their crooked Shells, whose watery Notes were drowned  
By th' lofty laughter of that Troop, they saw  
Their pleased Spectators; for Pharonnida,  
Being now with all her beauteous Train come to  
Behold this Pageant, taught them how to view  
A shame as dreadful as their fear, which yet  
Was full of horror, for though safe they sit  
Ith' floating Chariot, yet the mounting Waves,  
So boisterous grew, that even great Neptune craves  
Himself relief, till f●ighted from all sense,  
By second dangers, from that Port from whence  
They sallied forth, two wel-riged Ships are now  
Seen under Sail, whose actions taught them how  
Sea-fights are managed, in a method that  
They being too near engaged to tremble at,  
By fears slow conduct, to confusion led,  
Fall from their Thrones, and through the Waves had fled  
From shame to death, had they not rescued been,  
By swift Relief, a Courtesy that in  
Its first approach, though welcomed when they come  
To stand the shock o'th' Courts loud mirth, as dumb,  
As were the Fishes, they so late forsaken,  
Makes Mercy court them in a dreadful look.  
But leaving these to pay with future hate,  
Each Courtiers present mirth, a sadder fate  
Commands my Pen no longer to attend  
On smooth Delights, before it gives an end  
To that Ephemera of pleasure, which  
Whilst a free Conversation did enrich  
Their thoughts too fast did ripen in the breast  
Of both our royal Lovers, whose Fate rests  
Not longin downy slumbers, ere it starts  
In vain Phantasmaes', Hope herself departs  
In a distracted trembling, their bright sphere  
Of milder Stars, had now continued clear;  
So long, till what their smiling Influence drew,  
From the unthankful Earth, contracted to  
A vail of Clouds, whose coolness whilst some praised,  
Obscured those beams, by which they first were raised.  
Hell's subtle Embrioes', the Ingratitudes  
Of cursed Amphibia, whose disguise includes  
Mischiefs Epitome, had often struck  
In secret at their envied joys, which took  
Near its effects till now, so heavenly free  
The virtuous Princess was, from what could be  
Of him to vice, she knew not to mistrust  
It in another, but thinks all as just  
As her own even thoughts, wherefore without  
Oppressing of her Soul with the least doubt  
Raised from suspicion, she dares let her see  
She loved Argalia, though it could not be,  
Yet counted more than what his Merits might  
Claim as Desert, but this small beam of light.  
Through the Prospective of suspicion, to  
Envies malignant Eye conveyed, to do  
An Act, informs the cursed Amphibia, that  
Makes Love lament, for what she triumphed at;  
Since Virtue (Heavens unspotted Character)  
On the belov'd Argalia did transfer  
Merits of too sublime a height to be  
Shadowed with vice, from that Flowers fragrancy  
She sucks her Venom, and from what had built  
His Glory, now intends to raise his Gild;  
For ●hough the Prince no Engines need to move,  
His Passions Frame, but just Desert, his Love,  
Her close endeavours are to heighten't by  
Praises, that make Affection jealousy,  
Whose Venom, having once possessed his Soul,  
It swiftly doth (like fatal Charms) control  
Reasons fair Dictates, and although no fear  
From such wel-ordered Actions could appear  
To strengthen it, Argalia's Merits caused  
Some sad and sullen doubts, such as when paufed  
Awhile upon, resolve their Cure must be  
Their Cause removed, though in that Action he  
From his Breasts royal Mansion, doth exclude  
The noblest Virtue, generous Gratitude.  
My worthless Fortune with, will but prepare  
Our future happiness, the time we spare  
From feeding on Ambrosia, will increase  
Our wealthy store, when the white Wings of peace  
Shall bear us back with Victory; there may  
Through the dark Chaeos' of my Fate display  
Some beam of Honour, though compared with thine,  
(That Element of living flames) it shine  
Dim as the pale-faced Moon, when she lets fall  
Through a dark Grove her beams: thy Virtues shall  
Give an Alarm to my sluggish Soul,  
When ere it drops; thy Memory control  
The weakness of my Passions: When we strive  
Ith' heat of glorious Battle, I'll revive  
My drooping Spirits, with that harmony  
Thy Name includes; thy Name, whose memory  
(Dear as those Relics a protecting Saint  
Sends humble Votaries) mentions, will acquaint  
My thoughts with all that's good, then calm again,  
This Conflict of thy fears, I shall remain  
Safe in the Hail of Death, if guarded by  
Thy pious Prayers; Fates Messengers, that fly  
On wings invisible, will lose the way  
Aimed at my breast, if thou vouchsafe to pray  
To Heaven for my protection.— But if we  
Near meet again, yet— oh yet, let me be  
Sometimes with pity thought on, at which word,  
His o'ercharged Eyes no longer could afford  
A Room to entertain their Tears; both wept,  
As if they strove to quench that fire which kept  
Light in the Lamps of Life, whose Fortunes are  
Ith' House of Death, whilst Mars the regal Star.  
Some time in silent sorrow spent, at length  
The fair Pharonnida recovers strength,  
Though Sighs each Accent interrupted to  
Return this Answer, Wilt, oh wilt thou do  
Our infant Love such injury to leave  
It ere full grown: When shall my Soul receive  
A comfortable smile to cherish it,  
When thou art gone; they're but dull Joys that sit  
Enthroned in fruitless wishes: yet I could  
Part with a less expense of sorrow, would  
Our rigid Fortune only be content  
With absence, but a greater punishment  
Conspires against us, danger must attend  
Each step thou treadest from hence, and shall I spend  
Those hours in mirth? each of whose minutes lay  
Wait for thy life; when Fame proclaims the day,  
Wherein your Battles join, how will my fear  
With doubtful Pulses beat, until I hear  
Whom Victory adorns? Or shall I rest  
Here without trembling, when lodged in thy breast,  
My heart's exposed to every danger that  
Assails thy Valour, and is wounded at  
Each stroke that lights on thee, which absent, I  
Prompted by fear to Myriad multiply.  
— But these are Fancies Wild-fires, we in vain  
Do spend unheard Orisons, and complain  
To unrelenting Rocks, this Night peect Scrol,  
This Bill of our Divorcement doth enrol  
Our Names in sable Characters, nought will  
Expunge till death obliterate our iii.  
Oh do not (dear Commandress of my Heart)  
Argalia answers, let our moist eyes part  
In such a Cloud as will for ever hide  
Hopes brightest Beams, those Deities that guide  
The secret motions of our Fate, will be  
More merciful, then to twist Destiny  
In such black Threads, should Death unravel all  
The feeble Cordage of our Lives, we shall  
Spite of that Prince of Terrors, in the high  
And glorious Palace of Eternity,  
Being met again, renew that Love, which we  
On Earth were forced, before Maturity  
Had ripened it to Leaves; i'th' numerous throng  
Of long departed Souls, that stray among  
The Myrtles in Elysium, I will find  
Thy Virgin Ghost; and whilst the Rout inclined  
To sensual pleasures here, refining are,  
In purging Flames laugh at each envious Star,  
Whose Aspects, if ill cited at our Birth,  
With poisonous Influence blasts the Joys of Earth.  
Oh wast not (cries the Princess) dear time in  
These shadows of Conceit, the Hours begin  
To be 'mongst those inserted, that have tried  
The Actions of the World, which must divide  
Us from our Joy; the Sea through which we sail  
Works high with woe, nor can our prayers prevail  
To calm its angry Brow; the glorious Fraight  
Of my unwelcome Honours hangs a Weight  
Too ponderous on me for to steer the way,  
Thy humbler Fortunes do, else ere I'd stay  
To mourn without thee, I would rob my Eyes  
Of peaceful slumbers, and in course disguise,  
(Whilst Love my Sex's weakness did control)  
Command my Body to attend my Soul:  
My Soul, my dear, which hover near thee, not  
Midnight alarms, that appear begot  
By truth should startle; 'twixt the clamorous Camp,  
Lightened with Cannons, and the peaceful Lamps,  
That undisturbed here wastes its Oil, I know  
No difference, but what doth from Passion flow:  
Whose close Assaults do more afflict us far,  
Then all the loud impetuous storms of War.  
We must, we must, replies Argalia, stand  
This Thunder bolt unmoved, since his Command,  
Whose Will confirms our Law; happy had we  
Great Princess been, if in that low degree,  
From whence my Infancy was raised, I yet  
Had lived a toiling Rural, then when fit  
For Hymen's pleasures, uncontrol'd I'd took  
Some homely Village Girl, whose Friends could look  
After no Jointure, for to equalise  
Her Portion but my love; no jealous Eyes  
Had waited on our Meetings, we had made  
All our Addresses free; the friendly shade  
Cast from a spreading Oak, as soon as she  
Had milked her Cows, had proved our Canopy,  
Where our unpolished Courtship had a Love,  
As chaste concluded, as from th' amorous Dove,  
Perched near us we had learned it; when arrived,  
Unto Love's Zenith, we had undeprived,  
By disagreeing Parents soon been led,  
To Church by th' sprucest Swains; our Marriagebed,  
Though poor and thin, would have been neatly dressed  
By rural Paranymphs, clad in the best  
Wool their own Flocks afforded; in a low  
And humble Shed, on which we did bestow  
Nought but our labour to erect, we might  
Have spent our lusty youth with more delight  
Then glorious Courts are guilty of, And when  
Age had decayed our strength, grown up to men  
Beheld our large course issue. Our days ended  
Unto the Church been solemnly attended  
By those of our own Ra●k, and buried been  
Near to the Font that we were Christened in.  
Whilst I in russet Weeds of poverty  
Had spun these course Threads, shining Majesty  
Would have exhausted all her stock to Frame,  
A match for thy Desert; some Prince whose Name  
The neighbouring Regions trembled at, from whom  
The generous Issue of thy fruitful Womb,  
Might have derived a stock of Fame to build  
A future Greatness on, such as should yield  
Subjects of wonder to the World. About  
To interrupt him, ere he had drawn out  
This sad Theme she began to speak, but by  
Night's swift approach was hindered; now drew nigh  
The time of his departure: whilst he bleeds,  
At thought o'th' first, a second S●mmons speec●s  
His preparations to the City, where  
That big bulkt body, unto which his care  
M●st add a Soul, was now drawn up, and stayed,  
Only to have his wished Commands obeyed.  
His powerful Passion, Loves strict Rules respecting,  
More than bright Honours Dictates, yet neglecting  
All summons stayed him, till he'd sacrificed  
His Vows to her, whose every smile he prized,  
Above those trivial Glories; Ere from hence  
He dares depart, each with a new expense  
Of Tears, pays interest to exacting Fate,  
For every Minute she had lent of late,  
Unto poor Love, whose stock since not his own  
Although no Spendthrift is a Bankrupt grown.  
Look how a bright and glorious Morning, which  
The youthful Brow of April doth enrich,  
Smiles, till the rude Winds blow the troubled Clouds  
Into her Eyes, then in a black Veil shrouds  
Herself, and weeps for sorrow; so wept both  
Our royal Lovers, each would, and yet was loath  
To bid farewell, till stubborn time enforced  
Them to that Task; first his warm Lips divorced  
From the soft balmy touch of hers; next parts  
Their hands, those frequent witnesses o'th' heart's  
Indissoluble Contracts: last, and worst,  
Their eyes,— their weeping eyes, (oh Fate accursed,  
That lays so hard a task upon my Pen,  
To write the parting of poor Lovers) when  
They had even lost their light in tears, were in  
That shade, that dismal shade, forced to begin  
The progress of their sorrow; he is gone,  
Sweet, sad Phoronnida left— left alone,  
To entertain grief in soft sighs, whilst he  
'Mongst noise and tumult, oft finds time to be  
Alone with sorrow, though encompassed by  
A numerous Army, whose brave Souls ●weld high,  
With hopes of Honour, lest Fame's Trump want breath,  
Hast to supplied by Victory, or death.  
But ere calmed thoughts to prosecute our story,  
Salute thy Ears with the deserved Glory  
Our marshal Lovers purchased here, I must  
Let my Pen rest awhile, and see the rust  
Scoured from my own Sword, for a fatal day  
Draws on those gloomy hours, whose short steps may  
In Britain's blushing Chronicle write more  
Of sanguine Gild, 
Newberies second Fight.  than a whole Age before:  
To tell our too neglected Troops that we  
In a just Cause are slow, we ready see  
Our rallied Foes, nor wilt our slothful Crime  
Expunge, to say, Gild wakened them betime,  
From every Quarter, the affrighted Scout  
Brings swift Alarms in, hover about  
The clouded tops of the adjacent Hills,  
Like ominous Vapours lie their Troops, noise fills  
Our yet unrallied Army, and we now  
Grown legible, in the contracted Brow,  
Discern whose heart looks pale with fear: If in  
This rising storm of blood, which doth begin  
To drop already, I'm not washed into  
The Grave, my next safe Quarter shall renew  
Acquaintance with Pharonnida, till then,  
I leave the Muses to converse with men.  
The end of the second Book.    

PHARONNIDA. The third Book. A Tragicomical POEM.  

CANTO THE FIRST.  
The ARGUMENT.  

I.  
Beneath the powerful Tyranny of Love,  
Whilst the fair Princess weeps out every Star,  
In Pleasure's Sphere, those dark Clouds to remous,  
All royal Pass-times in it practised are.   

II.  
Amongst whose Triumphs, that her Train might lend  
Her their Attendants in the shades of Grief;  
Passion brings some so near a fatal end,  
That timely pity scarce affords relief.   
SOme Months now spent, since in the clouded Court  
Of sad Pharonnida, each Princely sport  
Was with Argalia's absence masked within  
Sables of Discontent, Robes that had been  
Of late her chiefest Dress; no cheerful smile  
Ere cleared her brow, those walks which were ere while;  
The Schools where they disputed Love, were now  
Only made use of, when her grief sought how  
To hide its treacherous tear,; the unfiled Bed  
Oth' Widow, whose conjugal joy is fled,  
Ith' hot and vigorous youth of Fancy, to  
Eternal absence, sooner may renew,  
(Though she for tears, repeated praises seeks)  
The blooming spring of Beauty on her Cheeks.  
When bright plumed Day on the expanded wings  
Of Air approaches, Lights fair Herald brings  
No overtures of peace to her; each prayer  
In pious zeal she makes, a pale despair  
In their Celestial Journey clogs; but long  
Her feeble Sex could not endure these strong  
Assaults of Passion, ere the red and white  
Vanquished from Beauty's Throne, had took their flight,  
And nought but melancholy palness lest  
T' attend the light of her dim eyes, bereft  
Of all their brightness; pining Agues in  
The earthquake of each Joint, leaving within  
The Veins, more blood than dwelled in hers, which bea●  
The hearts slow motions with a hectic heat.  
Long Passions Tyrant reigns not, ere this change  
Of Mirth and Beauty, letting sorrow range  
Beyond the circle of Discretion, in  
Her Father that suspicion which had been  
Kindled before renewing, he removes  
His Court to hers, but the kind visit proves  
A Paroxysm unto that strong Disease,  
Which combats in her blood, no mirth could please  
Her troubled Soul, since barred society,  
With all its better Angels, gone to be  
Attendant on Argalia; she beholds  
Those studied pleasures, which the Prince unfolds  
His love and greatness in, with no delight  
More smooth than that a sullen Anchorite,  
Which a harsh vow hath there enforced to dwell,  
Sees the cold wants of his unhaunted Cell.  
Amongst these sports, whose time betraying view  
Ravished each pleased Spectator, the fair Clew,  
Contracts some sable knots, of which my Pen  
Is only one bound to unravel; when  
War had unclasped that dreadful Book of hers,  
Where honoured Names in sanguine Characters,  
Brave valour had transcribed, fair virtue fixed  
Euriolus in Honour's Orb, and mixed  
Him with the Courts bright Stars; but he who had  
Whilst unregarded poverty had clad  
His virtues in obscurity, learned how  
To sail in Fortune's boisterous storms, is now  
By her false smiles becalmed and sunk, before  
Desert (bound thither) touched Loves treacherous shore.  
Ith' playful freedom of their youth, when she  
Was only a fair Shepherdess, and he  
An humble Swain, he truly did adore  
The fair Florenza, but aspired no more,  
Since Poverty clogged Loves ambitious wing,  
Then by his private Muse alone to sing  
Her praise with, such a flame of wit, that they  
Which have compared, say envied Lau●a may  
Look pa●e with spleen, to hear those Li●es expressed,  
Though in her great Platonics Raptures dressed.  
But now his Worth by Virtue raised, did dwell  
High as his Hopes, and that a Parallel  
To hers appearing, either's Merits had  
A Climax to preferment, and thus clad  
Virtue in Honour's Robes, which equal Fate,  
Gave his Affection Language to relate,  
What their Disparity kept dumb, nor did  
Those Motions find acceptance, such as hid  
Them for presumption, rather 'twas a Frost  
Of Virgin Ice, than fire of pride that crossed  
His Masculine Desires, her Eyes unfold  
So much of Passion, as by them she told  
Who had most interest in her Heart, which she  
From all brave Rivals his resolves shall be.  
'Mongst those, Mazara, one, whose noble blood  
Enriched the Gems of Virtue, though they stood  
In Honour's Altitude, was chief, nor could  
A nobler Choice, were her Affections ruled  
By Worth, commend her Judgement, his fresh youth  
Being Crowned with Virtues which might raise a truth,  
Above Hyperboles, his Nature mild,  
As was the Gaulless Dove, yet not the wild  
And furious Lion, when provoked could have  
More daring Valour, an untimely Grave,  
Whilst it i'th' Embryo was, to every Vice,  
But unto Virtue a fair Paradise;  
Whose weedless Banks no pining Winter knew,  
Till Death the jufluence of warm Life withdrew.  
That sympathy of meeting Virtues, which  
Did both their Souls with equal worth enrich,  
'Twixt him, and brave Euriolus had tied  
A League not to be broke, could Love divide  
His Blessings amongst Friends; But that of all  
Our Passions brooks no Rival, fear may call,  
Friends to partake of Palsies, Anger strives  
To fire each neighbouring Bosom, Envy thrives  
By being transplanted; but a Lovers pure  
Flames, though converted to a Calenture,  
Unwillingly with the least flame will part,  
Although to thaw another's frozen heart.  
Few 'mongst th' observant Wits o'th' Court yet knew  
(Though it with twisted Eye-beams strengthened grew,  
At every interview, and often dropped  
Some Tears to water it) whose Love 'twas stopped,  
Mazara's Suit, Euriolus to her  
Whose melting pity only could confer  
A Cure, unlocks the Secrets, whilst the other  
More confident to win, ne'er strives to smother  
A Passion so legitimate, but by  
All actual Compliments, declares how high  
He prized her Virtues, but this Worthies Fate,  
Fixed him in Love's intemperate Zone, too late  
●he pining Fruit was sown, the Spring so far  
Being spent, its days were grown Canicular;  
Schortching all hopes, but what made able were  
By fruitful Tears Loves April Showers, to bear  
Neglects untimely Frosts, which oft have lost  
In bloomy Springs, the unhappy Lovers cost.  
When this accomplished Youth, whose Tongue and Pen  
With Negatives more firm and frequent, then  
Cursed Usurers give impoverished Clients, oft  
Had been repulsed, truth for discovery brought  
This Accident, within the royal Court  
Of bright Pharonnida, a full Resort  
Of valiant Knights were met, convened to try,  
Whose Valour Fortune meant to glorify;  
Of which selected number there was one,  
Who though a stranger, Virtue soon made known  
To all, 'cause feared of most, his valour had,  
Before the first triumphant day unclad  
The silver-vested Hemisphere, been oft  
Clothed in the Ornaments of Honour, brought  
On Fame's fair wings from the opposing part  
Uncresting them to crown his high desert.  
But now, when this new Constellation near  
Its Zenith drew, in Honour's Hemisphere,  
Called thither by deciding Lots, the brave  
Euriolus appears, whom Victory gave,  
In the first shock success, and placed his Name  
In the Meridian Altitude of Fame;  
Where, though the valiant stranger prove no Foe,  
So fortunately valiant do o'erthrow  
the structure of his Fate, yet his close Stars  
Now sinks a Mine, to which those open Wars  
But easy dangers were; Mazara in  
His Crest a Scarff, that formerly had been  
Known for Florenza's, seeing jealous Love  
Converted into Rage, his Passions move  
Above the sphere of Reason, and what late  
Was but a gentle blaze, by altered Fate,  
Fires to a Comet, whose malignant beams  
Foretold sad Ills, attending Love's extremes.  
Loath to betray his Passions in so great  
A breach of Friendship, to a close Retreat,  
Mazara summons forward Rage; yet in  
The stranger's Name, whose Fortune might have been  
The Parent of a private Quarrel, sends  
To call Euriolus, who now attends  
Nought but triumphant mirth, unguarded by  
Applauding Friends, in secret Fight to try,  
What power did him from threatening danger guard,  
When public Fame was Victories Reward.  
This fatal Scroll received, by him that thought  
It real truth, since Passion might have sought  
In him the same delay, a swift consent  
Returns his Answer, but the Message went  
So far from its directed Road, that ere  
It reached Mazara's, loose Neglect did bear  
It to Carina's Ear, a Lady that  
In silent tears her heart had offered at  
His Virtue's Shrine, yet with such secret zeal,  
Her Eyes forbid their Cupids to reveal,  
That Language of her heart, she knew that in  
Florenza's Sea of Merits, hers had been  
Shipwrackt and lost, yet with a Soul as far  
From envying her, as hating him, this War  
Of factious Passions she maintains, and since  
Reason now wanted Language to convince  
Those headstrong Rebels, she resolves to be  
Though ruin'd, ruled by their Democracy.  
The Information her officious Maid,  
Had from Mazara's careless Page betrayed;  
Assures Carina the preceding Night,  
Such Horse and Armour as the stranger Knight,  
Euriolus had conquered in, had been  
By his most cautious diligence within,  
A (not far distant Wood) in whose black shade  
He meant his Fury should his Foe invade:  
Lodged by his Master, which discovered truth,  
Frighting her tears from the swift chase of Youth,  
And Beauty into froward Age, to meet  
Sorrow in private shades, withdraws the sweet  
But sad Carina, who resolves to spend  
Her sighs unnoted by her dearest Friend.  
This in Florenza, who foresaw that nought,  
But Passions more than common, could have wrought  
So swift a change, works high, who that she might  
Dis-plume these Ravens, ere the Babes of Light,  
Smile in their weeping Mother's Face, prepares  
To see Carina, who with wakeful cares,  
Her sad Companions by her friend surprised,  
No longer in their Ebbon Veil disguised  
Her thoughts pure candour; but with looks that did  
Seem to implore Assistance, whilst they chid  
Her own indulgent Nature, shows her how  
Preposterous Love made her to Passions bow,  
Whose fruit, since none of her first Planters came  
From forward man, could be but female shame.  
This (with its fatal Author) known to free  
Her Friend from shame, herself from cruelty,  
Unto Mazara whose firm Love attends  
Her least Commands, incensed Florenza sends,  
Whose zeal transported Soul no sooner hears  
That welcome sound, but though presaging fears,  
Prompt him to stay, least haughty honour fall  
Ruined by Fame, be le's her Standards fall  
Before commanding Love, and goes to wait  
On's honoured Mistress; but this sly deceit  
Of hope, no Cordial proves, unto the sad  
Carina's grief, the long experience had  
Of his Affection to Florenza tells  
Her doubtful Soul, those even Parallels  
Could not by all her Friends persuasions be  
Wrested into the least obliquity;  
Which sad mistrust did Love precipitate,  
On paths whose danger frights protecting Fate.  
Assured the Combats hour drew on, and that  
Mazara's lovesick Soul was offering at  
Florenza's Shrine, and by that willing stay,  
Might be enforced some Minutes to delay  
The time, in which his readier Opposite,  
Expected him, she being resolved to write  
Affection in her blood, with Love's wild haste,  
Makes toward the Lists, there finds his Armour placed  
Within the dark shade of an ancient Wood,  
In whose black breast that place of horror stood,  
Where they appoint to meet, like those of Fate,  
Obscure and dark by Beasts and Birds, that hate  
The Light alone frequented; but love had  
Dis-plumed fears Haggars, being resolved she clad  
Beauties fair Pearl, where smooth delights did dwell,  
Ith' rough-cast Mould of that Cyclopian shell.  
But that no Arms, nor bounding Steeds affright,  
Where Loves fair hand hath Valour's passport wright,  
Here we should pause, and pity her that now  
Fancy beholds, whilst she is learning how,  
To manage stubborn steel, within her sleek  
And polished hand, through devious paths to seek  
For doubtful dangers, such whose horrid shape,  
On man's best judgement, might commit a Rape.  
Her swift Conductor Love, ere this had brought  
Her to the place, where Passion had not sought  
Long for the Object of her hate, ere she  
Her valiant Brother, that was come to be  
His Fame's Protector sees, but so disguised  
In's Arms, that both, with envy unadvized,  
By knowledge an unthought of guilt prepare,  
In blood to meet; their foaming Horses were  
Now freed from the commanding Rain, and in  
Their full Carrier; but Love in vain to win  
The Field from Valour strives, her eager haste  
But argues such an envy as did waste  
Itself in weak Attempts, which to the length  
Of power extended, falls beneath the strength  
Of her Victorious Foe, whose Fortune had  
In Robes of Joy, what he must weep for clad.  
Conquered Carina now dismounted lay,  
Struggling for life, whose Fortress to betray  
Toward Nature's Tyrant Death, her blood transports  
False Spirits through their purple Salliports.  
Her Brother with an Anger that was grown  
Into disdain, his Fury should be shown,  
On such resistless Subjects, ere he knows  
How much of grief his Soul to sorrow owes,  
For this unhappy Act, froms finished course  
Was now returning, not by strength to force  
The harsh Commands of Tyrant Victors, but  
By calm advice, a bloodless end to put,  
To that ill-managed Quarrel: but before  
He there arrives, to make his sorrows more,  
When truth unvails their dark design, a Knight  
With haste as speedy as the secret flight  
O● wrath, when winged from angry Heaven, he saw  
Bolted into the Lists, who soon did draw  
Too near in sober Language to dispute  
Their fatal Quarrel, both, with Rage grown mute  
Disdaining conference, found no place for words,  
Amidst the mortal Language of their Swords;  
Which, the first shock passed o'er, and Lances broke,  
In haste took place, and at each furious stroke,  
Unbayed the Fountains of their blood, to slain  
With purple guilt the Flower-enameled Plain.  
Whilst each did thus with silent Rage employ,  
An Art directed Fury to destroy  
The others strength, the bordering shadows weep,  
In trickling Dews, and with sad murmurs keep  
Time with the hollow, and ill boding Note,  
Sent from a fatal Ravens stretcht-out Throat;  
Which from an old Oaks withered top did sing  
A baleful Dirge; but these sad Omens bring  
No terror to their busy thoughts, which were  
Too much employed in Action, to take care  
For any danger more remote, than what  
With the next stroke might fall; perceiving that  
Their Horses faint, they both dismount, and do  
On equal terms the Fight on foot renew,  
Till a Cessation from the want of breath,  
Not Valour was enforced: the Veil which death  
Contracted from those steams, his wreaking blood  
Breathed forth its Spirits in already stood,  
Over Mazara's Eyes, which clouded se●s  
Not that approach of Night; his trembling Knees  
S●agger beneath their fainting Load, which in  
To th' Grave had dropped, had not their fury been  
When its last heat was with Life's flame near spent  
From further Rage, restrained by accident.  
Some of the lost Carina's frighted Friends,  
Fearing those Ills which desperate Love attends,  
Spending that Morning in the fruitless Quest,  
Of her had been, and now (their hopes distressed  
With vain inquiries) to communicate,  
Their Grief returning were, which secret Fate,  
To interpose, through dark Meanders brought,  
Neglect to find what care in vain had sought.  
Whilst yet no more than brave humanity,  
Prompts them to part a Quarrel that might be  
Defiled with blood, which if not shed in Wars,  
With Murder stains, what it doth gild with Scars:  
They toward them hast, even in that critical  
And dangerous Minute, when Mazara's fall,  
With victories Laurels to adorn his Crest,  
His valiant Friend had robbed of future rest,  
Had not this blessed relief of Innocence,  
The one from death, the other from expense  
Of tears restrained, before Revenge had found  
So much of Gild as might his Conscience wound.  
His high wrought Rage stopped by too many hands,  
To vent its heat, Euriolus now stands,  
Shaken with the Fever of his anger, till  
Those Friends which saw Mazara grown so ill  
With wounds, to gasp for breath, by giving way  
For air, they to the Victor's view betray  
His best of Friends, at which afflicting sight,  
Cursing the cause of that unhappy fight;  
His Sword as guilty thrown aside, he hasts  
To his Relief, in which kind act none wastes  
Their friendly help, Life, as but stolen from pain,  
Behind the Veil of death appears again  
On Nature's Frontiers, whose returning flame,  
Though scarce of strength to warm, looked red with shame,  
When he so many wel-known Friends beheld,  
Sad Witnesses, how much his passion swelled  
Above the Banks, where Reason should have stayed,  
When to that meeting it his Friend betrayed.  
Their Vails of steel removed, each now beholds,  
What shame and wonder in firm Contracts folds.  
Amazed stands brave Euriolus to see,  
None but his Friend, his honoured Friend should be  
The Parent of that Quarrel, shame confounds  
Mazara more, and from internal wounds  
(Though like the red Seas Springs his other bled)  
Perhaps less danger, but more torment bred.  
Both now by his unforced confession knew  
Whose equalled honoured Beauty 'twas that drew  
Them to this fatal Combat, whose event  
Him near the Grave on Love's vain Errand sent.  
Friendship renewed in strict Embraces, they  
Are now arrived, where weak Carina lay,  
So faint with Love's Phlebotomy, that she,  
Masked in forgetful slumbers could not see  
Approaching shame, which when discovered sticks  
Life's fair Carnations on her deathlike Cheeks.  
Hasting to see, what overforward Rage,  
That unknown stranger's weakness did engage,  
In that unhappy Quarrel they beheld,  
At the first glance an Object that expelled,  
Into the shades of Sorrows Wilderness,  
All temperate thoughts, his Sister's sad distress  
Wrought by his Arm, whose strength betrayed her near  
The Grave, did to Euriolus appear,  
Dreadful, as if some treacherous friend had shown  
Those flames in which his scorched Companions groan.  
Nor did Mazara, though but prompted by  
Pity (that tender Child of sympathy)  
With less relenting sorrow live to see,  
Loves bloody Trophies, though unknown to be  
By his victorious Beauty reared; to save  
From the cold grasp of an untimely Grave,  
So ripe a Virgin, whilst her Brother stands  
Unnerved with grief, amongst the helpful hands  
Of other Friends are his employed, till by  
Their useful aid; fled Life returns to try,  
Once more the Actions of the world, before  
It shot the Gulf of Death; but on the shore  
Of active Nature, was no sooner set,  
But that (together with the Light) she met  
Her far more welcome Lover, whom whilst she  
Beholds with trembling, Heaven resolved to free  
A suffering Captive, turns his pity to  
So much of Passion, as ere long Love grew  
On the same Stem, whose Flowers to propagate;  
She in these words uncurtains mystic Fate.  
For bear your aid brave Sir, and let me die,  
Ere live the Author of a Prodigy,  
That future times shall curse: yet pardon me,  
Dear Brother, Heaven will ne'er impute to thee,  
The guilt of blood, 'twas my unhappy Love  
Which raised this Storm, which if my prayers may prove  
In death successful, let me crave of you,  
Dear Sir, to whom I long have born a true  
But indiscreet affection, that from hence  
For poor Carina's sake, for this expense  
Of tears and blood, you would preserve those dear  
Respects of Friendship, that did once appear  
Confirmed betwixt you, and, although my Fate,  
Unto the worst of Ills precipitate  
My Fame and Life, oh let my name not be  
Offensive to your Ear, this, this for me,  
Is all you shall perform; which spoke, she'd let  
Her hover Soul forth, to have paid the Debt  
Of Nature to the Grave, had not she been  
By some assisting Friends, whilst dropping in,  
Scayd at the last step, and brought back to meet  
The Bridal Pair, no single winding Sheet.  
This doubtful Combat ended, they are to  
The Court conveyed, where Fame upon this new  
Text Commenting, in various Characters  
Transcribes her sense; some this bold Act of hers  
Term unbecoming Passion, others brave  
Heroic love; but what most comfort gave,  
To cured Carina, was, that this lost blood,  
Had proved Loves Balm, and in a purple flood,  
Washed from her heart Grief's sable stains, for now  
Merit had taught her dear Mazara how,  
To prise her virtuous Love, and for its sake  
Its Cabinet her hearts best Temple make.  
Thus Passions troubled Sea had settled in  
A smooth and gentle calm, had there not been  
Unhappily, to blast their sweet content,  
Not long before an Act for th' banishment,  
Of all such Courtiers made, as should without  
A Licence from the Council, fight about  
What ever private Quarrel, but not this  
Mazara, or his new choice frights; their bliss  
Stood on more firm foundations than the Courts  
Uncertain Favours were, whose glorious sports  
Although he left, it was not to retire  
To sullen cares, what Honour could require,  
A state which called him her unquestioned Lord,  
Without depending favours did afford.  
But whilst we leave this noble Lover by  
This Mandate freed, from what before did tie  
Unto a troublesome Attendance; we  
From brave Euriolus are forced to be  
With sorrow parted, since the general love,  
His Virtue had obtained, wants strength to move  
The ponderous doom; ere his impoverished heart,  
Grown poor in streams, could from Life's springs impart  
Warm blood enough for his pale Cheeks to drink  
A Health to Beauty, he's enforced to think  
Of that sad theme of parting, on whose sense,  
His grieved Soul dictates sighs, yet could dispense  
Even with its harshest rigour, were there but  
Any acception in it, that might put  
Out parting with Florenza, that though he  
Were shrunk into his former poverty,  
(Calling the rugged frowns of Fate) would bear  
A Brow unclouded with Ambition's care.  
But he must go, not all the Rhetoric  
Of tempting Love could plead against the quick  
Approach of time, whose speedy motion now,  
Only some slippery Minutes did allow  
Their parting tears, in whose exalted flood,  
Had Reason not with future hopes withstood  
The rising stream, Loves Summer Fruits had been  
(O'erwhelmed with grief) for ever buried in  
A delluge of Despair; but that, whilst she,  
With such sad looks, as wintring Scythians see  
The Sun hasts toward the Arctic Pole, beholds  
His slow departure, glimmering hope unfolds  
Twilight, which now foretells their frozen fear,  
Day may return to Love's cold Hemisphere.  
The end of the first Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The third Book. CANTO THE SECOND.  
The ARGUMENT.  

III.  
The Princess by unlucky Accident,  
Having Loves secret Embassies betrayed,  
To her great Father, by that Action spent  
That stock of hope, which promised future Aid.   

IV.  
His rage being to such rash extremes inflamed,  
That he whose Mandates none durst disobey,  
As if his power were of such Acts ashamed,  
Shrinks from itself, and poorly doth betray.   
IF angry Aid, the Enemy to Love,  
Tells thy grave pride, thy Judgement is above,  
What with contempt (although it injure truth)  
Thy spleen miscalls the vanity of youth.  
If harsh employment; gross society,  
That feast of Brutes, make thee an Enemy  
To love, the Souls Commercive Language, then  
Remove thy Eye, whilst my unenvied Pen,  
That long to Passion hath a Servant been  
Confines the fair Pharonnida's within,  
These paper limits; frozen still she lies  
Beneath opposing Passions, her bright Eyes;  
Those Stars whose best of influence scarce had power  
To thaw what grief congealed into a shower  
Of heart dis-burthening tears, their influence spend  
In sorrows polar Circles, and could lend  
No light to beauty's World; i'th' vigorous reign  
Of this pale Tyrant, whilst she did remain  
Unlightened with a beam of comfort, in  
A Bower being sat, that formerly had been  
Her seat, when she heard the unhappy news  
Of parting with Argalia; whilst she views  
She blames the guiltless shadows, who to ask  
Pardon in trembling murmurs did unmask  
Their naked Limbs, and scattered at her Feet  
The fragrant Veil, in's deathbed sat the sweet  
But pining Rose, each Grass its heavy head,  
Laden with tears did hang, whilst her Eyes shed  
A pattern to instruct them: hence, whilst she  
Looks thorough on a way conceived to be  
The same her Lo●d marched with his Army, when  
He left Girenza, with a haste more than  
A common traveller, she sees one post  
Towards her Court, whose Visage had not lost  
Its room within her Memory, he's known  
Argalia's Page, and now each minute grown,  
A burden to her thoughts, that did de●er  
A nearer interview, the Messenger  
Arrives, and to her eager view presents  
His Master's Letters, whose enclosed Contents,  
Are now the Object, her expecting Soul  
Courts with desire, nor doth she long control  
Their forward haste; A Diamond being by  
The Messenger returned, whose worth might vie  
Price with an Indian Fleet, when it sails slow  
With's glittering burden; though each word o'erflow  
With joy, whilst her inquisitive discourse,  
Was on this pleasing theme, time did enforce  
The Pages swift departure, who with all  
Affected Epithets, that Love can call  
To gild Invention when it would express,  
Things more sublime than mortal happiness,  
Is gone to carry his expecting Lord,  
What pleasure could, when ratified afford.  
Whilst this sweet joy was only clothed in fresh  
Blossoms of hope like Souls, ere mixed with flesh  
She only by desire subsisted, but  
Now to her Chamber come, and having shut  
The treacherous door, from the conjugal seal,  
The white Lipped paper freed, doth soon reveal  
Loves welcome Embassies; she reads, and by  
Each Line transported to an Ecstasy,  
In Fancies wild Meanders lost the way,  
She rashly entered, faint desire would stay  
At every word in amorous sighs to breathe  
A Lovesick groan, but she is yet beneath  
The Mount of joy, and must not rest until  
Her swift-paced eye had climb the flowery Hill,  
Which now passed lightly o'er, with an intent  
Of a review to its best Ornament,  
His Name, she comes, which whilst bathed in the Balm  
Of fragrant kisses, from joys gentle calm  
She thus is startled, a redoubled groan,  
That sign of neighbouring sorrow, though unknown  
From whence affrights her Soul; but she too soon,  
Too sadly knows the Cause; the height of Noon,  
Raged in reflected heat, when walking in  
Those outer Rooms, her Father long had been  
In expectation of her sight; but not  
Finding her there, a golden slumber got  
The start of's Meditations, to comply  
With whose calm council, he did softly lie  
Down on a stately Couch, whose glittering pride,  
A Curtain from the public view did hide;  
Where having plucked from off the wing of time,  
Some of her softest Down, the Dews that climb,  
In sleep to stop each Ventrickle, begin  
To steal a soft Retreat, hover within  
His stretcht-out Limbs, sleeps vapours lie, his hands  
Rub from his Eyes those leaden bolts that stand  
Over their heavy Leads, which scarce was done,  
When first surprised Pharonnida begun  
To read her Letter, and by that sad chance,  
Betray her Love; Passion strove to advance  
Her Father from his Lodging, when he first  
Herd the discovery, but though anger thirst  
For swift Revenge, yet policy persuades  
Him to hear further, ere his sight invades  
Her troop of Pleasures, whose thin Squadrons broke,  
By what sh●'d heard, before she could revoke  
Her vanquished spirits, that were fled to seek  
Protection in her heart, robbing her Cheek  
Of all the blood to waft in; whilst she stands  
A burden to her trembling Legs, her hands  
Wring each others Ivory Joints; her bright  
Eyes scattering their distracted beams, the flight  
Oth' Curtain from her Father's angry touch,  
Discovers whence that groan which caused so much,  
Her wonder came; Grief, and amazement strives  
Awhile with Love, which soon victorious drives,  
Those pale Guests from her Cheeks, unto whose aid,  
Her noble heart (secure from being betrayed  
By its own strength) did send a quick supply  
Of its warm blood, her Conscience knows not why  
To fear, 'cause knows no guilt, nor could have been  
By Love so virtuous, ere drawn near a sin.  
But as the Evening blushes for the rude  
Winds o'th' ensuing day, so fortitude,  
Upon the lovely Roses that did grow,  
Within her Face a deeper Dye bestow,  
Then fear could ere have done, and did presage  
Th' ensuing storms exagitated rage.  
Silent with Passion, which his Eyes inflamed  
The Prince a while beholds her, ere he blamed  
The frailty of Affection, but at length  
Through the thick throng of thoughts, armed with a strength  
Which crushed the soft smiles of paternal Love,  
He thus begins; And must, oh must that prove  
My greatest curse on which my hopes ordained  
To raise my happiness? have I refraind  
The pleasures of a Nuptial Bed, to joy  
Alone in thee, not trembled to destroy  
My Name, so that advancing thine I might  
Live to behold my Sceptre take its flight,  
To a more spacious Empire, have I spent  
My youth, till grown in debt to Age she'th seen  
Diseases to arrest me, that impair  
My strength and hopes ere to enjoy an Heir,  
Which might preserve my Name, that only now  
Must in our dusty Annals live, whilst thou  
Transfer'st the glory of our house, on one  
Which, had not I warmed into life, had gone  
A Wretch, forgotten of the World, to th' earth,  
From whence he sprung. But tear this monstrous birth  
Of Fancy from thy Soul, quick as thou'dst fly  
Descending wrath, if visible, or I  
Shall blast thee with my anger, till thy Name  
Rot in my Memory, not as the same,  
That once thou wert behold thee, but as some  
Dire Prodigy, which to foreshow should come  
All ills, which through the progress of my life  
Did chance, were sent; I lost a Queen, and Wife,  
Thy virtuous Mother, who for her goodness might  
Have here supplied, before she took her flight  
To Heaven, my better Angels place, have since  
Stood storms of strong Affliction, still a Prince  
Over my Passions until now; but this  
Hath proved me Coward: Oh thou dost amiss  
To grieve me thus fond Girl. With that he shook  
His reverend Head, beholds her with a look,  
Composed of Grief and Anger, which she sees,  
With melting sorrow, but resolved Love frees  
Her from more yielding pity; to begin  
The Prologue to obedience, which within  
Her breast still dwelled (though swayed by Love) she falls  
Prostrate at's feet, to his remembrance calls  
Her dying Mothers Will, by whose pale dust,  
She now conjures him not to be unjust  
Unto that promise, with which her pure Soul  
Fled satisfied from Earth as to control  
Her freedom of Affection, rather she  
Desires her Interest in his Crown might be  
Denied her, than the choice of one to sway  
It in her right, she urges how it may  
Be by his Virtue far more glorified,  
Whom she had chose, then if by Marriage tied  
To any neighbouring Prince, who only there  
Would rule by Proxy, whilst his greater care  
Secured his own Inheritance; she than  
Calls to remembrance wh● reliv'd him, when  
Distressed within Alcithiu's Walls, the Love  
His Subjects bore Argalia, which might prove  
Her choice their happiness, with all how great  
A likelihood i● was, but the retreat  
O● Royalty, to a more safe disguise,  
Had showed him to their States deluded Eyes,  
So mean a thing: Loves boundless Rhetoric,  
About to dictate mo●e, he with a quick  
And furious haste forsakes the Room, his Rage  
Thus boiling o'er; And m●st my wretched Age  
Be thus by thee tormented: but take heed  
Correct thy Passions, or their Cause must bleed,  
Until he quench the flame; at which harsh word  
He leaves the room, nor could her strength afford  
Her power to rise, which whilst she strives to do,  
Her Memory adding more Weights unto  
The burden of her thoughts, her ●oul oppressed,  
Sinks in a pale Swoon, catching at t●e rest  
It m●st not yet enjoy, swift help lends light,  
Though faint and glimmering, to behold what Night  
Of grief oreshadowed her: You that have been  
Upon the Wrack of Passion, tortured in  
The Engines of forbidden Love, that have  
Shed fruitless ●ears, spent hopeless Sighs, to crave  
A rigid Parents fair Aspect, conceive  
What wild destruction seized her; I must leave  
Her Passions Volume only to be read,  
Within the breasts of such whose hearts have bled,  
At the like dangerous wounds; whilst she sits here  
Amazed with grief, know that no smiles appear,  
To smooth her Father's angry b●ow, yet to  
None he unfolds his thoughts, but bend to do  
What ere his Rage should dictate, to appease  
This high-wrought storm, which turned into disease  
Each motion of the Brain, he only takes●  
Scorn and Revenge, to whose ill counsel shakes  
The quiet of the Soul, to be his Guides  
Through those Night-peect Walks, whose shadow 〈◊〉  
The languished beams of Love, awhile their strong  
Ingredients boil in's blood, before they throng  
The scattered thoughts into a quintessence  
Of poisonous Resolutions, first from thence  
There sprung this black Disaster to attend  
Argalia's Fortune, he doth forthwith send  
A secret Messenger to th' Warlike Prince  
Of Siracuse, to let him know that since  
He sent those Forces to assist him in  
His War, their General, that till late had been  
The darling of his Love, by Arguments  
Too strong was proved a Traitor, whose intents  
Aimed at his Crown and Life; to aggravate  
His spleen the more, he writes him word their Fate,  
On the same ominous Pinions flew, if that  
He proved successful, having warmed him at  
This flame of Passion, he concludes with; (Sir)  
You guess my meaning, I would have no stir,  
About dispatching of him, for he's grown  
Strong in affection, and may call his own  
The hearts of half my Kingdom; let this give  
Your Justice power; he's too much loved to live.  
The startled Syracusan having read  
These bloody Lines, which had not only bred  
A new, but nourished growing envy in  
His mighty Soul, a stranger to all sin,  
So full of guilt, as to dissemble, till  
The new made Generals just deserts did fill  
Fames still augmented Volume, and was grown  
More legible, than what he called his own.  
What in a rival Prince had been a high  
And noble Emulation, kindled by  
A smaller Star blasts Virtue, he beholds  
His lightning Valour, which cach hour unfolds,  
Examples for Posterity, destroy  
What (though he trembled at) creates no joy  
Within his sullen Soul, a secret hate,  
By Envy fed, strives to unhinge his Fate,  
From off their lofty Pyramids, and throw  
What Merit raised, unto a place more low  
Than their first step to Glory, yet, whilst nought  
But Honour was engaged, disdain ne'er sought  
For life-excluding corrosives; but Love  
Bearing a part, two Suns might sooner move  
In the same sphere, than that hot Guest endure  
A rival Flame, Desert could not secure  
Worth thus besieged, yet this accursed intent,  
Dares not unveil itself, the Army sent,  
By him from fair Gerenza, ere the Sun  
Performed his Summer's progress, had begun  
To Garrison their weary Fort within,  
Such Towns as their own Valour first did win,  
From the retired Ae●olians, ere this task  
Was fully ended, curtaind in the Mask  
Of Merits lawful claim reward there came  
A large Commission, which Zoranza's Name  
Had made authentic, that the Government  
Of Ardenna a Town, whose strength had spent  
The baffled Foe, whose Fields of blood should be  
Conferred on him, by the Vicinity  
Of th' place, freed from a tedious Journey, in  
The City he arrives, and what had been  
Sent from his Prince, presents those Mandates that  
Informed the Governor, who frighted at  
The strange Commands, le's a pale guilt o'ertake  
His swift Resolves, till glorious hopes did shake  
Those Mourning Robes of Conscience off, and in  
The purple Garments of a thriving sin,  
Shadows his trembling Soul, lest she appear,  
Shook with a cold fit of religious fear.  
The discomposure of his look, which did  
Appear the birth of Discontent, forbid  
Suspicion of a blacker sin; that night,  
As being the last of's charge, he did invite  
Argalia to remain his Guest: the next  
Promising to 〈◊〉 his, yet seeming vexed,  
To leave the place, though only to conceal  
His dark design that did itself reveal  
To none but some selected Soldiers; by  
Whose help he meant to murder him. To vie  
I● benefits with th' Days, Night had bestowed  
Refreshing slumbers upon all ha●owd  
It to the l●st days Labour, when without  
Fear of approaching danger, hemmed about  
With guards of honest Valour, all his Train  
Save such as mere necessity de●ain,  
Lodged in the City, fearless Argalia in  
T● 〈◊〉 lies, where having tempted been  
By Midnight Revels, full crowned Cups, to be  
Betrayed from Reason to Ebriety:  
But nought prevailing, ●e at length is led,  
Like an in ended Sacrifice, to th' Bed,  
Ordained to be his last, until the Earth  
Within her Womb afford him one; the birth  
Oth' Morn grew near her slow approach, ere all  
Th●s● Engines, by whose strength they meant his fall  
Could be prepared; the Governor that held  
The Helm of this black mischief, had expelled  
The poisonous Gild of staining his own Sword  
With blood, providing Villains that abhorred  
No 〈◊〉 Contagion, though Revenge did wait  
On every guilty st●p: that Evenings Bait  
Their liquid Mirth had laid, although it took  
No use of Reason from his Soul, had shaken  
Its labouring Faculties into a far  
More sudden slumber, which composed the War  
Of wand'ring Fancy in a Harmony  
Of the Concordant Humours, until by  
The sudden noise of those ordained to be  
His Murderers, he wakes; amazed to see  
His Chamber so possessed, he catches hold  
On one of ●hem, but finds his strength controlled,  
By the assistance of the ●ther, in  
The Embryo of this treachery, ere their sin  
Was passed to execution, he conjutes  
Them to forbear so black a Deed, assures  
Them of Rewards, greater than hope could call  
A debt from him that basely sought his fal●.  
But deadly silence had barred up the Gates  
Of every Voice, those cursed Assassinates  
Prepared for action were, but Heaven prevents  
That aged sin of murdering Innocents',  
With Miracles of Mercy. There was found  
Not long before an ancient Story crowned,  
With a Prophetic Honour, that contained  
This sacred truth; (When Ardenna is stained  
With Treachery in F●iendships Veil disguised,  
Her sable Tower shall be by Foes surpized.)  
This known, but misconceived, to cousin Fate,  
They did unwounded bear without the Gate;  
The now resistless Lion that did lie,  
Like that brave Prince o'th' Forest, fettered by  
A crew of trembling Hunters; to the brow  
Of an high Promontory, that did bow  
Its black Cliffs o'er the clamorous Waves, they had  
Conveyed the noble Youth; the place a sad  
And dismal horror wore, the grim aspects  
Of louring Rocks, the grey-eyed Sea reflects,  
In ugly glaring beams, the Night-Raven beats  
His ●ufty Wings, and from their iquallid seats,  
The baleful Scriek-Owls fly to bear their parts,  
In the sad murmur of the Night; those heart's  
Custom had steeled with Crimes, perhaps had been  
Here frighted to repentance, had not sin  
Assisted by the hands of Avarice, drawn  
The Bridge of Reason, and obscured the dawn  
Of Infant goodness, to redeem the time  
Astonishment had lost, towards their Crime  
They now themselves precipitate the hand,  
Ordained to ruin that fair Structure, and  
Unravel his Life's even thread, prepares  
To strike the fatal blow; but he that dares  
Obstruct commanded Villainy forbid  
The further progress of their guilt, and chid  
That pale sin in rough Language of, a strange  
Confused sound, striking their Ears did change  
The ominous Dirges of the Night into  
A various noise of humane Voices, who  
Durst in that secret place approach, 'twas now  
Too late to think on, the Rocks spacious brow,  
Was clouded o'er with men, whose glittering Arms  
Threatened destruction, ere their swift alarms  
Could summon sleeps enfeebled aid; whilst they  
Forsake their Prisoner, who becomes a Prey  
To the Invaders, seeking safety in  
Their flight, they fall before him, that had been  
Ordained to speedier ruin, entering at  
The open Salliport, they give by that  
Rash Act directions to the Foe, that mixed  
Promiscuously with them, and now had fixed  
Their Standards on the Gates. The Castle in  
Feverish alarms sweeting, did begin  
To case her fiery stomach, by the breath  
O'th' full-mouthed Cannon. Ministers of death  
In this hot labour busily distils  
Extracted spirits, noise and tumult fills  
The frighted City, whose fired turrets lent  
A dismal light. But the Assailants spent  
Their blood in vain, the Soldiers that had been  
At the first trembling fit distracted in  
Confusion's giddy maze, had rallied now  
Their scattered spirits, and were seeking how  
To purge dishonours stains in the bright fire  
Of rage contracted valour. To retire  
Unto their Ships in safety, now is all  
Th' Invaders hope for, but so many fall  
In that attempt, it leave no triumphs due  
To Fortune's temple. By this winding clew  
Of various fate, Argalia only finds  
That stroke of death deceived, no hand unbindes  
His corded arms, but that which meant to lay  
Bondage as hard, so corrasives do stay  
A Gangrene fed by springs of poisonous blood,  
When reaching at the heart, as these withstood  
The cataracts of death. With tyrant's more  
Indomitable, than the sea that bore  
Their black Fleet, leave our Hero to untie  
This knotty riddle of his fate, whilst by  
The ignis fatuus of a fancy led  
With slow paced feet, through other paths we tread.  
The tumults of the City silenced in  
A peaceful calm, what the effects had been  
Of those loud clamours, whilst all seek to know  
Argalia's loss makes giddy wonder grow  
Into suspicion, that this Act might be  
Some stratagem o'th' Guvernour, to free  
Himself from a Successor, but those fly  
Darts of mistrust were rendered hurtless by  
His Prince's Mandates, whose envenomed hate,  
That spurious birth had made legitimate.  
Yet swift Revenge aff●onis his Treason in  
Its full carrier, his Master having been  
By him informed of a surprisal, where  
All sounds but death affrighted, could not bear  
The burden of his Fears, and yet not sink  
Deeper in sin, ere the poor wretch could think  
On aught but undeserved Rewards, he by  
A brace of Mutes being strangled, from the high  
But empty Clouds of Expectation drops,  
To let the World know what vain shadow props  
Those blood-er●cted Pyramids that stand  
On secret Murders black and rotten Sand.  
When thus the Syracusan had secured  
His future Fame, Passion that still endured  
A strong distemperature, slept not until  
The story of their cross Design did fill  
Palermo's Prince's Ear, Argalia's loss,  
Was now the Ball that babbling Fame did toss  
Through the Court, upon whose airy Wing,  
Reaching the Island, it too soon did bring  
The heavy News, disguised in Robes more sad  
Than truth to her, whose stock of Virtues had  
Been ventured on that Sea of Merit, in  
Such forms of Grief, as Princes that have been  
Hurled from the splendent Glories of a Throne,  
Into a Dungeon, her great Soul did groan  
Beneath the Weights of grief; the doleful Tale,  
Had thunderstruckk all joy, her Spir'●s exhale  
Their vigour forth in sighs, and faintly let  
That glorious Fabric unto which they're set  
Supporters fail to th' Earth; yet sorrow stays  
Not in this frigid Zone, rude grief betrays  
Her Passions to her Father's jealous Ear  
Who fearing lest Argalia's Stars might clear  
Their smoky Orb●, and once more take a flight  
From deaths cold house by a translated L●g●t,  
To separate from sorrow, and again,  
In Fortune's house Lord of th' Ascendant Raig●●  
He doubts that Islands safety, and from thence  
Removes her with what speedy diligence,  
Fear could provoke suspicion to; her Train  
Shook with that sudden change, desire in vain  
The Islands pleasure, ere they know how much  
Their Fates must differ; as it oft in such  
Unlooked for changes happens, each man vents  
His own Opinion, some did discontents,  
Of the young Princess, others that the season  
Of th' year was cause; but though none know his reason,  
All must obey his Will. The pleasan Isle  
Whose Walks, fair Gardens, Prosp●cts did beguile  
Time of so many happy hours, must now  
A solitary Wilderness, whose brow,  
Win●er had bound in folds of Ice, be left  
To wail their absence, whilst each Tree bereft  
Of Leaves, did like to Virgin Mourners stand,  
Clothed in white Vails of glittering Icelets, and  
Shook with the breath of those sharp winds that brought  
The hoary Fish. The pensive birds had sought  
Out Springs that were unbar'd with ice, and there  
Grew hoarse with cold. The crusted earth did wear  
A rugged armour. Every bank unclad  
With flowers, concealed the juicy roots that had  
Adorned their Summer's dress. The Meadows green  
And fragrant Mantle, withering lay between  
The griz'ie mountains naked arms. All grows  
Into a swift decay, as if it owes  
That tribute unto her departure, by  
Whose presence 'twas adorned. Seated did lie  
Within the circuit of Ghirenza's wall,  
(Though stretched t' embrace) a Castle which they call  
The Prince's tower, a place whose strength had stood  
Unshook with danger, when that violent flood  
Of war raged in the Land, hither were brought  
Such (if of Noble blood) whose greatness sought  
From treacherous plots extension, yet although  
To those a prison, here he did bestow  
His best of treasure, briefly, it had been  
Unto the Spartan Kings a Magazeen  
Since first they ruled that Kingdom, and when ere  
A war drew near them, their industrious care  
Made it their place of residence; the hill  
'Twas built upon, with's rocky feet did fill  
A spacious Iftmos, at its depth a Lake  
Supplied byth' neighbouring sea, let in to make  
The Fort the more impregnable, with slow  
But a deep current running, did bestow  
A dreadful prospect on the bended brow  
O'th' hill, which covered with no earth did bow  
Its torn cliffs o'er the heavy stream. The way  
That led to it, was o'er a bridge, which they  
That guard it did each night draw up, from whence  
A steep ascent, whose natural defence  
Assisted by all helps of art, had made  
The fatal place so dangerous to invade,  
Each step a death presented. Here when he  
Had placed his daughter, whose security  
Rocks, walls, nor rivers warranted, without  
A trusty guard of Soldiers, hemmed about  
The walls, less hard than they. Those Gentlemen  
That on her happier Court attended, when  
Argalia did command them, as too mild  
Were now discharged, their office on a wild  
Band of those Mountain Soldiers, who had in  
His last great war most famed for valour been,  
Being conferred, and these lest they should be  
Forced by commands into civility,  
Bestowed upon the fierce Brumorchus, one  
Whose knotty disposition nature spun  
With all her coursest threads, composing it  
For strength, not beauty, yet a Lodging fit  
For such a rough, unpolished guest as that  
Black soul, whose dictates it aught trembled at,  
In feverish glooms, whose subterranean fire  
Inflamed that ill-formed Chaos with desire  
Its vigour to employ in nought of kin  
To goodness, till 'twas better tempered in  
The Prince's Court, where though he could not cast  
His former rudeness off, yet having past  
The filing of the Courtier's tongues, at length  
It thus far wrought him, he converts that strength  
To's Princes service, which till then had lay  
In Passions Fetters, learning to obey,  
The gentle strokes of Government; though bred  
In savage wildness, nursed with blood, and fed  
With hourly Rapine, since he had forsaken,  
Those Desert haunts, a firm obedience took,  
Hold on's robustious Nature, not to be  
By that effeiminate wanton (flattery)  
Stroked to an yielding mildness, which being known,  
To the mistrustful Prince, whose Passions grown  
So far above the reach of Reason, that  
Her strength could not support them, bending at  
Their own unwieldy temper, sunk in●o  
Acts, that his milder thoughts would blush to do;  
Makes him from all his noble● Captains choose  
Forth this indomitable beast; to use,  
So harsh a Discipline unto the sole  
Heir to his Crown, a Lady that did roll  
More Virtues on the Spindle of her Life,  
Then Fate days length of Thread, had raised a strife,  
So high in his vexed subjects blood, that all  
Murmur in secret, but there's none durst call  
His Prince's Acts in question, to behold  
Her Prison through their tears, and then unfold  
Their Friends a Veil of sorrow, is the most  
Their Charity durst do: But that which crossed  
Distr●st Pharonnida above the grief  
Of her restraint, or aught but the belief  
Of her Argalia's death, is now to be  
Barred when she wants it, most society  
With sorrowful Florenza, whilst she stayed  
The Partner of her secrets, now betrayed  
By false Amphibia to her Father, and  
Banished the Court, retiring to withstand  
The storms of greatness, to her Fathers own  
Poor quiet home, which as if ne'er she'd known,  
The beauties of a Palace, did content  
Her even thoughts at leisure to lament,  
In pensive tears, her wretched Mistress Fate,  
Whose joys eclipsed, converts her Robes of State  
To mourning Sables; what delights the place,  
Was capable of having to deface  
The Characters of grief, her Father strives  
To make them hers, but no such choice Flower thrives  
In the cold Region of her Breast, she makes  
Her Prison such as theirs, whose guilt forsakes  
All hopes of Mercy; the slow● footed day,  
Hardly from Night distinguished, steals away  
Few beams from her tear-clouded Eyes, and those  
A melancholy pensiveness bestows,  
On saddest Objects▪ The ore-shadowed Room  
Wherein she sat, seemed but a large sized Tomb,  
Where Beauty buried lay, its furniture  
Of doleful black hung in it, to inure,  
Her Eyes to Objects like her Thoughts, in which  
Night dress of sorrow, till a Smile enrich  
Impoverished Beauty, I must leave her to  
Her sighs (those sad Companions) and renew  
His fatal Story, for whose Love alone,  
She dares exchange the Glories of a Throne.  
The end of the second Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The third Book. CANTO THE THIRD.  
The ARGUMENT.  

V.  
From Treachery, which, two Princes Annals stained  
The brave Argalia by protecting Fate,  
Delivered, Land, or Rhodes fair Isle attained,  
Being there elected Champion for their State.   

VI  
In which design, although with victory blest,  
The common Fate him soon a Prisoner makes  
To a proud Turk, beneath whose power distressed,  
His virtue proffered liberty forsakes.   
THrough the dark paths of dusty Annals, we,  
Led by his Valour's light, return to see,  
Argalia's story, who, hath since that Night,  
Wherein he took that strange distracted flight,  
From treacherous Ardenna performed a course  
So full of threatening dangers, that the force  
Of his protecting Angel, trembled to  
Support his fate, which cracked the sl●nder clew  
Of destiny almost to death,; His stars  
Doubting their influence, when such horrid wars  
The Gods proclaimed, withdrew their languished beams  
Beneath Heaven's spangled arch. In pitchy streams  
The heavy clouds unlade their wombs, until  
The angry winds fearing the flood should fill  
The air (their Region where they ruled) did break  
Their Marble Lodgings; Nature's self grew weak  
With these distemperatures, and seemed to draw  
towered dissolution, her neglected Law  
Each Element forgot, th' imprisoned flame  
When the Clouds stock of moisture could not tame  
Its violence, in Sulphry flashes break  
Through th' glaring air. The swollen clouds speak  
In the loud voice of thunder; the sea raves  
And foams with anger, hurls his troubled waves  
High as the Moons dull Orb, whose waning light  
Withdrew, to add more terror to the night.  
When the black curtain of this storm, that took  
The use of Art away, had made them look  
For nought but swift destruction, being so vain  
forth' ' Mariners to row, that the proud main  
Scorned to be lashed with Oars; to ease distress  
The night forsook them, but a day no less  
Dreadful succeeds it, by whose doubtful light  
The wretched Captives soon discover night  
Near them a Turkish Navy; to whose aid  
The Renegadoes (having first displayed  
Their silver Crescents) join; Nor did they meet  
That help untimely, a brave Rhodian Fleet  
Set forth from those (the Christian Bulwarks) to  
Obstruct the Turks Invasions, was in view.  
To meet the threatening danger, which 'twas then  
Too late to wave, that miracle of men  
The brave Argalia, chained unto an oar  
Is with a thousand noble Captives more  
Forced to assist damned infidels; and now  
The well-armed Fleets drew near, their swift keels plow  
The Ocean's angry front. First they salute  
Each other with their Cannon, those grown mute  
Come to more desperate fight, unfriendly bands  
Unite their Vessels, the fierce Soldier stands  
Firm on his Hatches, whilst another boards  
His active enemies, whose Ship affords  
No room for such unwelcome guests, but sends  
Their scattered limbs into thin air; Each bends  
His strength to's Foes destruction; plunging in  
Which bloody sweat, the Rhodians hopes had been  
Lost with their Fleet, had not kind Fortune smiled  
Thus on their fear; whilst action had beguiled  
Each soul of passive cares, Argalia sees  
A way t' unlock his rusty Chain, and frees  
Himself and fellows from their bank, which done,  
Those that continued at their Oars, did run  
The Vessel from the rest, and ere unto  
Their sight betrayed, the trembling Pirates slew.  
Then closing with their unsuspitious Foes  
I'th' vigour of the fight, they discompose  
Their well ranged Fleet, and such confusion struck  
Into the van, to see their Rear thus shaken  
With an unlooked for Hirrocan●, that in  
A fearful haste the numerous Turks begin  
To stretch their fins and flee, but a● their speed  
Was spent in vain, Argalia's hand had freed  
So many Captives, that their Galleys must  
Unto the winds uncertain favour trust  
Or else becalmed, but seebly crawl before  
Their eager foes, who both with Sail and Ore  
Chased them to ruin. Glorious Victory,  
Thus to the Christian party being by  
A stranger purchased, with such high applause  
As those that rescue a declining cause  
From the approach of ruin, welcomed, he  
Is now received into th' society  
Of the brave Christian order. But they not  
Long joyed in victory, ere the Turk to blot  
The stayns of being conquered out had made  
A mighty Army ready to invade  
The valiant Rhodians, where Argalia shows  
So brave a spirit, their whole Army owes  
His valour for example. The Turks had aught  
Made desperate onslaughts on the Isle, but brought  
Nought back but wounds and infamy, but now  
Wearied with toil, they are resolved to bow  
Their st●bborn resolutions with the strength  
Of not to be resisted want, the length  
o'th' Chronca ' disease extended had  
To some few months, since to oppress the sad  
But constant Islanders, the Army lay  
Circling their Confines. Whilst this tedious stay  
From battle rusts the Soldiers valour in  
His tainted Cabin, there had often been  
With all variety of Fortune fought  
Brave single Combats, whose success had brought  
Honours unwithered Laurels on the brow  
Of either party; but the balance now  
Forced by the hand of a brave Turk, inclined  
Wholly to them, thrice had his valour shined  
In victories refulgent rays; thrice heard  
The shouts of Conquest thrice on's Lance appeared  
The heads of noble Rhodians, which had struck  
A general sorrow 'mongst the Knights, all look  
Who next the Lists should enter, each desires  
The task were his, but honour now requires  
A spirit more than vulgar, or she dies  
The next attempt, their valour's sacrifice,  
To prop whose ruins, chosen by the free  
Consent of all Argalia comes to be  
Their happy champion. Truce proclaimed until  
The combat ends, th'expecting people fill  
The spacious battlements, the Turks forsake  
Their Tents, of whom the City Ladies ●ake  
A dreadful view, till a more noble sight  
Diverts their looks, each part behold their Knight  
With various wishes, whilst in blood and sweat  
They toil for Victory, the Conflicts heat  
Raged in their veins, which honour more inflamed  
Than burning Calentures could do, both blamed  
The feeble influence of their Stars that gave  
No speedier conquest, each neglects to save  
Himself, to seek advantage to offend  
His eager Foe. The dreadful combats end  
Nought but their loss of blood proclaims their spirits,  
In that Reflux of heat and life inherit  
Valour's unconqueered throne; but now so long  
The Turks proud Champion had induced the strong  
Assaults of the stout Christian, till his strength  
Cooled on the ground with's blood, he fell at length  
Beneath his conquering Sword. The barbarous crew  
O'th' Villains that did at a distance view  
Their Champions fall, all bands of truce forgot,  
Running to succour him, begin a hot  
And desperate combat with those Knights that stand  
To aid Argalia, by whose conquering hand  
Whole squadrons of them fall, but here he spent▪  
His mighty Spirit in vain, their Cannons rend  
His scattered Troops, who for protection fly  
Toth' City Gates, but closely followed by  
Their Foes did there for sad oblations fall  
To dying liberty; their battered wall  
Groaned with the wondrous weight of Lead, and in  
Its ruins hides her battlements, within  
The bloody streets the Turkish Crescents are  
Displayed, whilst all the miseries of war  
Raged in Their Palaces. The common sort  
Of people make the barbarous Soldier sport.  
In dieing, whilst those that survive them crave  
Their fate in vain, here cruelty did save  
And mercy only kill, since death set free  
Those happier Souls from dire captivity.  
At length the unrestrained Soldier tires  
Although not satisfies his foul desires  
With Rapts and Murder, when amongst those poor  
Distressed Captives that from thence they bore,  
Argalia lies in Chains, ordained to die  
A sacrifice unto the cruelty  
Of the fierce Bashaw, whose lovd favourite in  
The Combat late he slew, yet had not been  
In that so much unhappy, had not he  
That honoured then his Sword with victory  
Half-brother to Janusa been, a bright  
But cruel Lady, whose refined delight  
Her slave (though husband) Ammurat durst not  
Ruffle with discontent; wherefore to cool that hot  
Contention of her blood, which be foresaw  
That heavy new●s would from her anger draw  
To quench with the brave Christians death, he sent  
Him living to her, that her anger spent  
In flaming torments, might not settle in  
The dregs of discontent. Staying to win  
Some Rhodian Castles, all the Prisoners were  
Sent with a guard into Sardinia, there  
To meet their wretched thraldom, from the rest  
Argalia severed, soon hopes to be blest  
With speedy death, though waited on by all  
The hell-instructed torments that could fall  
Within inventions reach; But he's not yet  
Arrived to's period, his unmoud stars sit  
Thus in their Orbs secured. It was the use  
O'th' Turkish pride, which triumphs in th'abuse  
Of suffering Christians, once before they take  
The ornaments of nature off, to make  
Their prisoners public to the view that all  
Might mock their miseries, this sight did call  
Janusa to her Palace window, where  
Whilst she beholds them, love resolved to bear  
Her ruin on her treacherous eye-beams, till  
Her heart infected grew, their Orbs did fill  
(As the most pleasing object) with the sight  
Of him whose Sword opened a way for th' flight  
Of her loved Brother's soul; At the first view  
Passion had struck her dumb, but when it grew  
Into desire, she speedily did send  
To have his name, which known, hate did de●end  
Her heart, besieged with love, she sighs, and straight  
Commands him to a dungeon, but loves bait  
Cannot be so cast up, though to deface  
His Image in her soul she strives: the place  
For's execution, she commands to be  
'Gainst the next day prepared, but rest and she  
Grow enemies about it, if she steal  
A slumber from her thoughts, that doth reveal  
Her passions in a dream, sometimes she thought  
She saw her Brother's pale grim Ghost, that brought  
His grisly wounds to show her, smeerd in blood  
Standing before her fight, and by that flood  
Those red streams wept imploring vengeance, than  
(Enraged) she cries, Oh let him die, but when  
Her sleep imprisoned fancy, wand'ring in  
The shades of darkened Reason, did begin  
To draw Argalia's image on her soul,  
Loves Sovereign power did suddenly control  
The strength of those abortive Embrio's, sprung  
From smothered anger. The glad birds had sung  
A Lullaby to night, the Lark was fled  
On drooping wings, up from his dewy bed  
To fan them in the Rising Sunbeams, ere  
Whose early reign, Janusa that could bear  
No longer locked within her breast so great  
An army of rebellious passion●, beat  
From Reason's conquered Fortress, did unfold  
Her thoughts to Manto, a stout Wench, whose bold  
Wit, joined with zeal to serve her, had endear  
Her to her best Affections; having cleared  
All doubts with hopeful promises her made,  
By whose close wilds this plot must be conveyed,  
To secret action, of her council makes  
Two Eunuch Panders, by whose help she takes  
Argalia from his Keeper's charge, as to  
Suffer more torments then the rest should do,  
And lodged him in that Castle, to affright  
And soften his great Soul with fear, the light  
Which lent its beams unto the dismal place,  
In which he lay, without presents the face  
Of horror smeared in blood, a Scaffold built,  
To he the Stage of Murder, blushed with guilt  
Of Christian blood, by several torments let  
From the imprisoning Veins; this Object set  
To startle his Resolves, if good, and make  
His future joys more welcome, could not shake  
The Heaven-built Pillars of his Soul, that stood  
Steady, though in the slippery paths of blood.  
The gloomy Night now sat enthroned in dead  
And silent shadows, Midnight Curtains spread  
The Earth in black, for what the falling day,  
Had blushed in fire, whilst the brave Prisoner lay  
Circled in darkness, yet in those shades spends  
The hours with Angels, whose assistance lends  
Strength to the wings of Faith, which mounted on  
The Rock of hope, was hover to be gone  
Towards her eternal Fountain, from whose source,  
Celestial Love enjoined her lower course.  
Whilst in this holy Ecstasy, his knees  
Descent, did mount his heart to him that sees  
His thoughts disvelloped, whilst dull shades oppressed  
The drowsy Hemisphere, whilst all did rest,  
Save those whose actions blushed at daylight, or  
Such wretched Souls whose sullen cares abhor  
Truce, with refreshing slumbers, he beholds  
A glimmering light, whose near approach unfolds  
The Leaves of darkness; whilst his wonder g●ows  
Big with Amazement, the dim Taper shows  
What hand conveyed it thither, he might see  
False Manto entered, who prepared to be  
A Bawd unto her lustful Mistress ca●ne,  
Not with persuasive Rhetoric t' inflame  
A heart congealed with death's approach, but thaw  
Him from the frozen Rocks of rigid Law,  
With brighter Constellations, that did move  
In spheres, where every Star was fired with love.  
The Siren yet to show that she had left  
Some modesty unrifled by the theft,  
Of mercenary baseness, sadly wept,  
Her Errands Prologue, but guilt was not kept  
Within the Curtain long, she only sat,  
A Mourner for the sickness of his Fate,  
Until esteemed for pitiful, and then  
Prescribes this Remedy, Most blest of men,  
Compose thy wonder, and let only joy  
Dwell in thy Soul, my come's to destroy,  
Not nurse thy trembling Fears; be but so wise  
To follow thy swift Fate, and thou mayst rise  
Above the reach of danger, in thy Arms  
Circled that power, whose radiant brightness charms  
Fierce Ammurat's anger, when his Crescents shine  
In a full Orb of Forces, what was thine  
E'er made a Prisoner, though the doubtful state  
Of the best Christian Monarch, will abate  
Its splendour, when (that Daughter of the Night)  
Thy feeble Star shines in a Heaven of Light.  
If Life, or Liberty then bare a shape  
Worthy thy Courting, swear not to escape  
By the attempts of strength, and I will free  
The Iron bonds of thy Captivity.  
A solemn Oath by that great power he served,  
Took and believed, his hopes no longer starved,  
In expectation, from that swarthy seat  
Of sad Despair, his narrow Jail replete,  
With lazy Damps, she leads him to a Room,  
In whose Delights Joys Summer seemed to bloom;  
There left him to the brisk Society  
Of costly Baths, and corsic Wines, whose high  
And sprightly temper, from cool Sherbets found  
A calm ally: here his harsh thoughts unwound  
Themselves in pleasure, as not fearing Fate  
So much, but that he dares to recreate  
His Spirits (by unwieldy Action tired)  
With all that Lust into no Crime had fired.  
By Mutes (those silent Ministers of sin)  
His sullied Garments were removed, and in  
Their place such various Habits laid, as pride  
Would clothe her Favourites with, she means to hide  
From those Deformities, which Accident  
On Nature's Issue, striving to prevent  
Forms even progress casts, when she would twine  
That active Male with matter feminine.  
Unruffled here by the rash Wearer rests  
Fair Persian Mantles, rich Sclavonian Vests.  
The gaudy Tuscan, or transmuted shape  
Of the fantastic French, the British Ape,  
The grave and constant Spaniard, all might here  
Find Garments, such as Princes would appear,  
To grace their honoured Nuptials in, or tell  
Strangers how much their Treasure doth excel▪  
Though on this swift variety of Fate,  
He looks with wonder, yet his brave Soul sat,  
Too safe within her guards of Reason, to  
Be shaken with Passion; that there's some b'ing new  
And strange approaching, after such a storm  
This gentle Calm assures him, but the form  
Of pleasure softens not, that which the other,  
And worse extreme, not with fears damps could smother.  
He flies not with the rugged Separatist,  
Pleasures smooth Walks, nor doth enjoying twist  
Those threads of Gold to Fetters, he dares taste  
All mirth, but what Religions stock would waste.  
His Limbs (from Wounds but late recovered) now  
Refreshed with liquid Odours did allow  
Their suppled Nerves no so●ter rest, but in  
Such Robes as wore their Ornament within,  
Veiled o'er their beauty; Linen smooth, and soft,  
As Phoenix Down, and whiter than what's brought  
From furthest China he puts on, and then  
What habit Custom made familiar, when  
Clothed in his own, makes choice of for to be  
Most honoured of that rich variety.  
In an Italian Garb, ●o th' Doublet clad,  
Manto, Lust's swift and watchful Spy that had  
With an efficious care attended on  
That motion, entering, hasts him to be gone,  
To ●'rd more sublimed delights, which though a just  
And holy doubt proclaim the road of Lust,  
Knowing his better Angel did attend  
Upon each step, he ventures to descend  
The dreadful Precipiece so far, until  
The burning Vale was seen, then mounts the Hill  
Of Heaven-bred Fortitude, from whence disdain,  
Floods of contempt on those dark fires did rain.  
●is guilty Conduct now had brought him near  
Ihonusa's Room, the glaring Lights appear,  
Through the Windows crystal Walls, the strong  
Perfumes of balmy Incense mixed among  
The wand'ring Atoms of the Air did fly,  
Sights nimble Scouts, yet were: made captive by  
A slower sense, as if but to reveal  
What breathed within, those Fugitives did steal,  
Through their unseen Salliports, which now  
Were useless grown, the open doors allow,  
A free access into the Room, where come,  
Such real Forms he saw, as would strike dumb  
Their Alcharons' Tales of Paradise; the fair  
And sparkling Gems i'th' gilded Roof impair  
Their Fapours fires, yet both themselves confess,  
Weak to those flames Ihonusa's eyes possess.  
With such a joy, as bodies that do long  
For Souls shall meet them in the Doomsdayes throng,  
She that ruled Princes, though not Passions, sat  
Waiting her Lover, on a Throne whose state  
Epitomised the Empire's Wealth, her Robe  
With costly pride had robbed the checquerd Globe,  
Of its most fair and orient Jewels, to  
Enhance its value; captive Princes, who  
Had lost their Crowns, might here those Gems have seen,  
That did adorn them, yet she trusts not in  
These Auxiliary strengths, her confidence  
In her own Beauty rests, which no defence  
Of Chastity ere yet withstood, and now  
She scorns to fear it, when her power did bow  
Unto a Slave condemned, that ne'er could look  
To see the sight, but whilst some torment took  
The use of Eyes away, whilst he draws near,  
(By her command) no less it did appear,  
Her wonder to behold his dauntless Spirit,  
Then his, what Virtue to applaud as Merit.  
Placed in a Seat near her bright Throne, to stir  
His settled thoughts, she thus begins; From her  
Your Sword hath so much injured, as to shed  
Blood so near kin to mine, that it was fed  
By the same milky Fountains, and within  
One Womb warmed into life, is such a sin,  
I could not pardon, did not Love commit  
A Rape upon my Mercy, all the wit  
Of man in vain Inventions, had been lost,  
Ere thou redeemed, which now although it cost,  
The price of all my Honours, I will do,  
Be but so full of gratitude, as to  
Repay my care with love: Why dost thou thus  
S●t dumb to my discourse, it lies in us,  
To raise, or ruin thee, and make my way  
Through their bloods, that our Embraces stay.  
This on the spur of Passion spoke, she strains  
His hand in hers, where feeling the big Veins,  
Beat with intemperate heat, conceiving it  
The strokes of Lust, to aggravate the Fit,  
Into a Paroxysm of Gild, she shows  
(More then with modesty) how much she owes  
To Nature's Treasare, for that ill spent stock  
Of Beauty she enjoyed, her Eyes unlock  
Two Cabinets of sparkling Diamonds, which  
The even foils of Ebbon brows enrich,  
With a more Orient brightness; on her Cheek,  
The Roses (conquering the pale Lily) seek  
To counterfeit a Blush, but vanquished shame  
Submits to Love, in whose insulting flame,  
The modest Virgin a sad Martyr dies,  
And at Fame's wounds, bled Passions Sacrifice.  
Nature's embossed work, her soft swelling breasts  
(Those Balls of living Ivory) unpressed,  
Even with the Weight of Tiffany displays,  
Whiteness that shamed the Swans, the blood that strai●s  
In Azare Channels over them did show  
By their swelled streams, how high the Tide did flow,  
Wherein her P●ssions sailed; the milky way  
Loves fragrant Valley that betwixt them lay,  
Was moist with balmy Dew, extracted by  
The busy Spirits that did hover fly  
Through her boiling blood, whose raging flame,  
Had scorched to death the April Flowers of shame.  
To charm those sullen Spirits that within,  
The dark Cells of his Conscience might have been,  
Yet by Religion hid, that Gift divine,  
The Souls Composure, Music did refine,  
The lazy Air, whose polished Harmony,  
Whilst dancing in reboubled Echoes, by  
A wanton Song was answered, whose each part,  
Invites the Hearing to betray the Heart.  
Having with all these choice Flowers strewed the way  
That leads to Lust, to shun the slow delay  
Of his approach, her sickly Passions hast  
To die in action; Come (she cries) we wast  
The precious Minutes, now thou know'st for what  
thou'rt sent for hither, which if active at,  
Thou only liv'st in my esteem; and then  
(O Impudence, which from the worst of men  
Might force a Blush) she swiftly hasts to tread  
Within Lust's Tropics, her polluted Bed.  
And here black sinner, thou, whose bloods disease,  
Of kin to Hells, wants numbers to appease  
Its flaming Calenture, blushed to behold  
A Virgin Virtue, spotless leaves unfold  
In youthful Volume, whilst thy ripe years spent,  
In lust, hath lost thy Age's Ornament.  
In this, as hot and fierce a Charge of Vice,  
As (since he lost the field in Paradise)  
Man ever felt; the brave Argalia sits,  
With Virtue cooled in Passions feverish Fits:  
Yet at Life's Garrisons his Pulses beat,  
In hot Alarms, till to a soft Retreat  
Called by that fair Commandress spite of all  
Beauty's prevailing Rhetoric, though he fall,  
Ruined beneath her anger, he by this  
Unwelcome Language, her expected bliss,  
Converts to rage; And must my freedom then  
At such a rare be purchased, rather when  
My life expires in Torments, let my Name  
Forgotten die, then live in black-mouthed Fame;  
A s●rvant to thy Lust, go tempt thy own  
Da●'d Infidels to sin, that ne'er had known  
The way to Virtue, not this cobweb Vail  
Of beauty which thou wear'st, but as a Jail,  
To a Soul, pale with guilt, can cover o'er  
Thy Minds deformities; a tainted Whore  
Conscience proclaim thee will, when thou shalt sit,  
Shaken with this spotted Fevers trembling Fit.  
(Rent from these gilded Pleasures) send me to  
A Dungeon dark as Hell, where shadows do  
Reign in eternal silence; Let these rich  
And costly Robes (the gaudy Trappings) which  
Thou meanest to clothe my sin in, be exchanged  
For sordid Rags; when thy fierce spleen hath ranged  
Through all invented torments, ●hoose the worst  
To punish my denial, less accursed,  
I so shall perish, then if by consent  
I'd taught thy guilty thoughts how to augment  
Their sins in action, and by giving ease  
To thy blood's Fever, took its loathed disease.  
To have the springtide of her pleasures, swelled  
By Lust's salt waters, thus by force expelled  
Back to Confusions troubled Sea, had made  
Such troops of Passion ready to invade,  
An ill descended Conscience, that her look  
Like a cast Felons, out of hopes of th' book;  
Was sad with silent guilt; the Room she leaves  
To her Contemner, who not long receives  
The benefit of rest, she that had been  
The Prologue unto this obstructed sin,  
With six a●m'd Slaves was entered, thence to force  
Him to his dismal Jail, but the Divorce  
Of life, from those which first approached, joined to  
The others flight had put her to renew  
That scattered strength, had not that sacred tye  
(His solemn Oath) from Laur●ld Victory,  
Snatched the fair wreath, and though brave Valour strives  
To reach at Freedom through a thousand Lives:  
At her Command more tamely made him yield,  
Then conquered Virgins in the Bridal Field.   

CANTO THE FOURTH▪  
The ARGUMENT.  

Anger (improved by Lust's enormous Flam●)  
Fires vexed Jhonusa, with such sad●ex reams  
Of Rage, that her swcet Sexes native shame,  
Is scorched to death, in those prodigious beams.   

Which wilt they to her angry Lord betray,  
Her Honour's loss, such tumulis in him breed,  
That both their deaths must serve for an allay,  
Whose sudden fall our Christian Champion freed.   
OUr noble Captive to fair Virtue's Throne,  
In safety past, though through Lust's burning Zone  
Finds in his Dungeons lazy damps, a rest  
More sweet, though with the heavy weights oppressed,  
Of Iron bondage, then if they had been  
Loves amorous wreaths (Jonusa's Arms) within  
Whose Ivory Circles he had slept; but she,  
(Her grief composed of all malignity)  
Lusts flames unquenched converts to, whilst they burn.  
Black thoughts within her breast, that beauteous Urn  
Of Lust's corruption: sometimes anger flies  
Above the sphere of Reason, and there dies,  
With tears extinguished; she breathes Curses in  
Her Souls pale Agony, such as had been  
More deadly than infectious damps if not  
Strangled i'th' Embryo, dead before their hot  
Poison could work upon her fancy more  
Then spleenful thoughts which were recalled before  
Ripened for execution. Now she steeps  
Her down in tears, a flood of sorrow weeps  
Of power (if penitent) to expiate  
Youths vigorous sins, but all her mourning sat  
Beneath a darker Veil then that which shades  
Repentant grief, since sin but wished invades  
The soul with that which leads to horror, when  
Grief for sins passed bring into light again  
One through a sea of trouble leads the way  
To a safe Harbour, th'other casts away  
Poor shipwrecked Mortals, when by deaths swift stroke  
Life's feeble hold is from hopes anchor broke.  
So far the fair Jonusa in this sad  
Region of grief had gone, till sorrow had  
That Fever turned, upon whose flaming wings  
At first lust only sat, to one which brings  
Death's symptoms near her heart, which had so long  
Beneath the burden groaned, until the strong  
Disease had wrought up all the blood within  
Her checks into consuming flames; the skin  
Had lost its soft repose of flesh, and lay  
On nought but bones, whose sharpness did betray  
Their macerated nerves; The Rose had lost  
His Ensigns in her cheeks, and though it cost  
Pains near to death, the Lily had alone  
Set his pale Banners up, no brightness shone  
Within her eyes dim Orbs, whose fading light  
Being quenched in death, had set in endless night  
Had not the wise endeavours of her Maid  
(The careful Manto) griefs pale Scouts betrayed  
By sly deceit. Knowing if she should want  
Health, until cured by that exotic plant  
The Captives love, what lust at first did burn  
With inflammations might a Gangrene turn,  
Although she cures not, yet gives present ease  
By laying Opiates to the harsh disease.  
A Letter, which, did for uncivil blame  
His first denial, in the strangers name  
Disguised she gives her, which, with eyes that did  
O'erflow with joy, read o'er, had soon forbid  
Griefs sullen progress, whose next stage had been  
O'er Life's short road, the Grave, deaths quiet Inn  
From whose dark terror by this gleam of light  
Like trembling children by a Lamps weak light  
Freed from nights dreadful shadows, she'd embraced  
Sleep (nature's darkness) had not joy defaced  
Those sooty characters, and on the wings  
Of airy hope (that wanton bird which sing●  
As soon as fledged) advanced her to survey  
The dawning beauties of a longed for day.  
But ere this pyramid of pleasure to  
Its height arrives, with's presence to undo  
The golden structure, dreadful Ammurat  
From's floating mansion, safely landed at  
The City's Pot, impatient Love had brought  
In an untimely visit, ere swift thought  
Fettered with guilt, could from his eager eye  
By an excuse to sanctuary fly,  
He enters, and she faints, in which pale trance  
His pity finds her, but to no such chance  
Imputes the cause, rather conceives it joy  
Whose rushing torrent, made her heart employ  
His nimble servants, all her Spirits, to  
Prevent a deluge, which might else undo  
Loves new made Commonwealth; But whilst his care  
Hastens to help, her fortune did declare  
Her sorrows dark enigma, from her bed  
The Letter drops, which when lives Army fled  
Their frontier Garrisons neglected had  
Been left within't, this seen, declares a sad  
Truth toth' amazed Bassa, though 'twere mixed  
With subtle falsehood, whilst he stands betwixt  
High rage, and grief distracted, doubtful yet  
In what new dress to wear revenge, the fit  
Forsakes Ihonusa, who not knowing, she  
Detected stood, of Lust's conspiracy  
'Gainst honours Royal Charter, from a low  
Voice strains a welcome, which did seem to flow  
From fickle discontent, such as the weak  
Lungs breathe the thoughts in whilst their fibers break.  
To counterfeited slumbers, leaving her,  
He's gone, with silent anger to confer  
And though rage lives in fire, the fury lies  
Unseen through the false optics of his eyes;  
With such a farewell as kind husbands leave  
Their pregnant Wives, preparing to receive  
A Mother's first of blessings he forsakes  
The room, and into strict inquiry takes  
The wretched Manto, who ere she could call  
Excuse to aid, surprised, discovers all  
Her sins black art, from whose dark Theorems, he  
This method draws, that night designed to be  
Lightened with Lust's hot triumphs, he pretends  
Commanded absence, yet the false stroke bends  
But towards that guard, ere by a swift reverse  
Brought back, his souls sly Scouts had gained commerce  
With all those enemies to honour by  
Whose aid Ihonusa ruins chastity;  
Placed by false Manto in a Closet, which,  
Silent, and sad, had only to enrich  
Its roof with light, some few neglected beams  
Sent from Ihonusa's room, which serve as streams  
To wa●t intelligence; Here he beheld  
Whilst she, who with his absence had expelld  
All thoughtful cares was with her joy swelled high  
As Captives are when called to liberty,  
Her Linen (like a Princely Brides that meets  
In the soft folds of her first nuptial shee●s  
Perfumed and costly, her fair bed was more  
Adorned than Shrines, whose Saints rich Kings adore,  
Incense in smoky curls, climbs to the fair  
Roof, whilst choice music rarefies the air,  
Each element in more perfection here  
Then in their first creation did appear  
Yet lived in harmony, the winged fire lent  
Perfumes toth' air, that to moist Cordials penned  
In Crystal Vials, strength, and those impart  
Their vigour to that ball of earth, the hart,  
The nice eye here epitomised might see  
Rich Persia's wealth, and old Rome's luxury  
But now (like Nature's new made Favourite  
Who until all created for delight  
Was framed, did ne'er see Paradise) comes in  
Deceived Argalia, thinking he had been  
Called thither to behold a Penitent  
Arming for death, not heavens choice blessings spent  
On th' vanities of Life, but mirth soon gives  
That thought its mortal wound, and shows she lives  
Beyond that dark sphere, where her joys did move  
As if her eyes alone gave Laws to Love,  
Where beauties Constellations all did shine  
As if no cross aspect could ere untwine  
Their clasped Conjunctions, which did seem to guide  
Old Nature's steps, till from their Zeniths pride,  
By virtue (the Soul's motion) which the World  
In order keeps, into coufusion hurled.  
For here gay vanity, though clothed in all  
Her gaudy Pageants, lets her Trophies fall  
Before bright Virtue's Throne, with such a high  
Heroic scorn, as aged Saints that die  
Heavens Favourites, leave the trivial world, he slights  
That gilded Pomp, no splendent beam invites,  
His serious eye, to meet their Objects in  
An amorous glance, reserved as he had been,  
Before his grave Confessor, he beholds  
Beauties bright Magic, whilst its Art unfolds  
Great Loves mysterious Riddles, and commands  
Captive Ihonusa to infringe the Bands  
Of Matrimonial modesty; when all  
Temptation falls, she leaves her Throne to fall,  
(The scorn of Greatness) at his Feet; but Prayer  
(Like flattery) expires in useless air,  
Too weak to hatter that firm confidence,  
Their torments thunder could not shake: from hence  
Despair (Love's Tyrant) had enfor●d her to  
More wild Attempts, had not her Ammurat, who  
Unseen, beheld all this, prevented by  
His sight, the death of bleeding modesty.  
Made swift with rage, the ruffled Curtain flies  
His angry touch, he enters, fixed his eyes,  
(From whence some drops of rage distil) on her  
Whose heart had lent her Face its Character,  
Whilst he stood red with flaming anger, she  
Looks pale with fear, Passions disparity  
In such extremes, as Nature's Laws require,  
'Twixt Earth's cold Centre, and th' airs circling fire,  
Dwelled in their troubled breasts, his wild eyes stood  
Like Comets, when attracting storms of blood  
Shook with portentous sadness, whilst hers sat  
Like the dull earth, when trembling at the Fate  
Of those ensuing ills, heavy and fixed  
Within their Orbs. Passions thus strangely mixed,  
No various Fever ere created in,  
The phrenzied Brain, when sleeps sweet calm had been  
From her soft Throne deposed: this Lightning past,  
Thunder succeeds, as burning Mountains cast  
Out horrid noise, after their flame and smoke,  
So having paused, his dreadful Voice thus broke  
The dismal silence; Thou prodigious Whore,  
The curse of my Nativity, that more  
Afflicts me, then eternal wrath can do  
Spirits condemned, some Fiends instruct me to  
Heighten revenge to thy desert, but so  
I should do more than Mortals may, and throw  
Thy spotted Soul to flames, yet I will give  
Its passport hence, for think not to outlive  
This hour, this fatal hour, ordained to see,  
More than an Age before of Tragedy;  
She that fell from a Firmament of pride  
To Fortune's lowest Region, and there died  
A sad example to ensuing times,  
That Honour's Altitude supports not Crimes.  
When in their stretched Extentions reaching to  
Justice, which can through reversed Optics view  
Giants, though Pigmy sins do oft appear,  
Like the dim Moon, more great, because more near,  
Sins, that till fear their guilt did aggravate,  
Wore Virtue's Frontispiece, since now too late  
To hope for life, in their own monstrous form,  
Encounter Reasons Guards, till the big storm  
Of various p●ssions all were settled in  
Dregs of despair, when ●earing tears should win  
The victory of anger, Ammurat draws  
His Simme●er, which had in blood writ Laws  
For conquered Provinces, and with a swift  
And cruel rage, ere penitence could lift  
Her burdened soul in a repentant thought  
Towards heaven, sheaths the cold steel in her soft  
And snowy breast, with a loud g●oan she falls  
Upon the blou●y floor, half breathless calls  
For his untimely pity, but perceiving  
The fleeting spirits with her blood were leaving  
Her heart unguarded, she employs that breath  
Which yet remained, not to bewail her death,  
But beg his life that caused it, on her knees  
Struggling to rise, but now calmed Ammurat frees  
Her from disturbing death, in's last great work,  
And thus declares some virtue in a Turk;  
I have brave Christian by perusing thee  
In this great act of honour, learned to be  
Too late thy slow-paced follower, this ●ing (with that  
Gives him his Signet) shall when questioned at  
The Castle guards, thy safety be, and now  
I see her bloods low water doth allow  
Me only time to launch my souls black Bark  
Into deaths rubick Sea, for to the dark  
And silent Region, though we here were by  
Passion divorced, Fortune shall not deny  
Our souls to sail together: From thy eyes  
Remove deaths load, and see what sacrifice  
My Love is offering, with that word a stroke  
Pierces his breast, whose speedy pains invoak  
Death's Opiates to appease them, be sinks down  
By's dying Wife, who ere the cold flood drown  
Life in the deluge of her wounds, once more  
Betrays her eyes toth' light, and though they bore  
The weight of death upon their Leads, did keep  
Them so long open, till the icy sleep  
Began to seize on him, and then she cries  
Oh see just heaven, see, see my Ammurat dies  
To wander with me in the unknown shade  
Of Immortality, but I have made  
The wounds that murdered both, his hand that gave  
Mine, did but gently let me blood to save  
An everlasting Fever. Pardon me  
My dear, my dying Lord, Eternity  
Shall see my soul washed white in tears, but Oh  
I now feel times dear want, they will not now  
Fast as my stream of blood. Christian farewell,  
When ere thou dost our tragic story tell,  
Do not extenuate my crimes, but let  
Them in their own black characters be set  
Near Ammurats' bright virtues, that read by  
Th' unpractised Lover, which posterity  
(Whilst wanton winds play with our dust) shall raise  
On beauty's throne, the good may justice praise  
By his example, and the bad by mine  
From Vice●s Throne be scared to Virtue's Shrine.  
And here the speed deaths messengers did make  
To hurry forth their souls, did faintly shake  
Her words into imperfect accents, this  
She cries is our last interview, a kiss  
Then joins their bloodless Lips; Each close the eyes  
O'th' other, whilst the parting spirit flies  
Mounted on both their breaths, the latest gasp  
They ere must draw. Whilst with stiff arms they clasp  
Each others neck, Argalia through a cloud  
Of liquid sorrow did behold the proud  
Triumphs of death in their untimely fate,  
He sees great Ammurat for a Robe of State,  
Grovelling in blood, the fair Ihonusa lie,  
Purpled in death; like polished Ivory.  
Dipped in Vermilion; the bright Crystals that  
Her Soul in conquering flames looked thorough at.  
Both quenched and cooled in death; but time did lend  
His tears scarce passage, till a drop could end  
Its Journey o'er his Checks, before a Page  
Whose cruelty had far out-grown his Age;  
Enters in haste, and with an anger that  
(Though indiscreet) at wrongs seemed kindled at,  
In wounds, did on the Bassas body vent  
A spleen that deaths discharge could not content.  
This seen, Argalia (to whom all must be  
Offence that injures fair humanity)  
Stops the vain Torrent, and a nearer way,  
To just revenge directs the angry Boy,  
Who by unfolded truth, now lets him know,  
His Rage to that uncivil height did grow,  
Not from a childish spleen, but wrongs that he  
A Christian, suffered in Captivity.  
Assured by this confession, that he might  
Be useful more, then in a secret flight,  
Argalia bids him, in his Bassas Name,  
A Mandate, write for some of worthiest Fame,  
'Mongst all the Christian Citizens, and those  
To send the Guard for, ere the Morning rose,  
On the black ruins of the Night; this done,  
Before that time the Victory had won  
Of opportunity (their Warders slain)  
Each Christian Captive from his rusty Chain,  
His bold band frees, and by their happy aid,  
The Gates being first secured, with ease dismayed;  
The drowsy Garrison, from whom they found  
But weak resistance, some soft fleep had bound  
To Beds of ease, intemperate Riot kept  
Others more vainly waking; here one slept  
Between a Mistress Arms, and there another  
(Stole to a private Cattamit) did smother  
Delight in whispers, in which loose Garb found,  
Ere time rowls up what slow neglect unwound,  
Even in securities soft Lap surprised,  
They met grim death in Pleasure's ●hape disguised,  
All now being slain but feeble Eunuches, and  
Poor trembling Maids, the new, but valiant Band  
Of late freed Captives Crown the Walls, from whence  
They saw the Soldiers wicked diligence,  
In finding those which the false Mandate had  
Designed for Ruin general, as sad  
The City's sorrows were, a desolate  
And silent horror, unregarded sat,  
Ith' empty streets, which action had not filled,  
Yet with employment; but when day did gild  
The Ebbony of Night, to hear the rude  
Murmur that did, from the mixed multitude,  
Opened together with their Doors, assures  
Argalia, that their ●ear, which yet secures,  
That bandfull of insulting Tyrants, might  
(With anger being charged home) be put to flight,  
With a reserve of hope, whilst every breast  
Was swelled with stifled Spirits, whilst oppressed  
With silent grief, helpless Spectators, they  
Saw those they once for Virtue did obey,  
(Their reverend Senator's, whose silvered heads,  
Age now made fit for ease) forced from their Beds,  
By feverish powers rude fits, whose hear, not all  
The Jewleps of their Tears, though some drops fall  
From Beauties lovely blossoms, cools their R●ge,  
Neglected Youth slights like unreverent Age.  
But when the conquering Captives, by the brave  
Argalia rescued, from the Castle gave  
Bright victories Signal, when they saw each Lance,  
The bleeding head of a grim Turk advance  
Anger (like unobstructed Love) breaks forth  
In flaming haste, yet here the Want of worth  
And Valour 'mongst the City heard, had driven  
Them all to deaths dark Fields, if whilst they strove  
With that stout band of jannizaries, they  
Had not been by Argalia taught the way  
To Victory, who in a sally meets  
Retreating fear, when crecping from the streets,  
To th' vain protection of their doors, and now  
His conquering Sword having taught all to bow  
Beneath its burnished splendour, since the high  
Applause o'th' loudest acclamations fly  
Beneath his worth, a general Vote elects,  
Him for their Prince, but his brave Soul affects  
Not so sublime a burden, knowing they  
Bred under a Democrisie, obey  
Contracted power, but harshly he returns  
All to their Senate, who of late like Urns  
Nought but the useless Ashes did contain,  
Of their own Laws, which were by Conquest slain.  
But his refusal, where acceptance, not  
Envy could say, Ambition had begot,  
But new Plants Virtue; who from thence did take  
The deeper Root, and 'mongst the throng did make  
That choice so Epedemical, that he  
For Valour feared, loved for Humility;  
The people's prayer (those humble shrubs) that owe  
For safety to powers Cedars) join to grow,  
shadowed beneath his Merit, and create  
Him Prince o'th' Senate, who (their doubtful state  
Requiring strong Ailies) A Fleet prepared,  
To seek those Princes, who their danger shared;  
Which ready with a prosperous Gale of wind,  
He (though employed by Honour) sails to find  
Out Loves rich Indias, and with's white winged Fleet,  
Hastens Palermos' nearest Port to meet.   

CANTO THE FIFTH.  
The ARGUMENT.  

With prosperous Sails moved from Sardinia's Shore,  
Argalia safe doth now from danger set  
The Cyprian Prince, who though so large in score,  
With noble friendship soon repays the Debt.   

In Sparta's Court they're now arrived, where he  
That Life he saved, venter's to serve him in  
An Act so great, it sets the Princess free,  
Who for his sake had long a Prisoner been.   
WHilst with bend Oars Argalia's Squadrons move,  
Like the light wings of (Times Physician) Love,  
Who steered his course, and now had safely drawn  
Him through th' Ionian Waves, when by the dawn  
Of a still Morning, whose pale sickly light  
(Yet bounded in the Ebbony of Night)  
Showed like a dull Quicksilver foil spread o'er  
The World's great Glass, whose even Surface bore  
Within their view two Galleons, whom they saw  
(Like timorous Hares) base Hunters give no Law;  
Chased by a nimble, numerous flee●. Drawn near,  
Christians the chased, the Chacers' Turks appear,  
Which like a shoal of smaller Fishes made  
So bold by number, that they durst invade  
The big bulkt Whale, on every side assails  
The slow-paced fleet, who, since not strength prevayls  
Against such odds, their fiery spirits spent  
In thunder, which, had from their broad sides sent  
The last great groan, for powers decease, and they  
Not their Foes terror, but good fortune lay.  
Whilst cramped in this convulsion of their fear  
Which (honour gilding) made despair appear  
The child of fortitude, they all prepare  
Brave●y to die, Argalia's squadrons bore  
Up with the wind, and ere the Turks proud Fleet  
(Deceived by their own Crescents) fear to meet  
A danger (like a Hirrocane) falls in  
Destruction which was suffered whilst unseen.  
So wealthy Merchants, whose returning cost  
A storm on the pacific Sea hath lost,  
Fall from the arms of hope. Sudden, and swift  
As inundations, whose impetuous drift  
Swallows a sleeping City up, had they  
Lost the firm hold of Victory, and lay  
Sad Captives in their own lost Ship, for flight  
Saves few, where all in hopes of conquest fight  
Fair victory made more bright by accident  
(Even when despair hopes wasted stock had spent)  
Those that were rescued, from their soft prayers raise  
To pay heavens tribute in their louder praise  
Which (oft neglected) debt discharged, they gave  
(Allayed with thanks) to him, whose band did save  
A miracle in their delivery, all  
D●sev'd applause, that can when mounted, fall  
Ith' Circle of Humanity; to kiss  
Those hands which plucked him from the black Abbysse  
Of Death, their brave Commander goes, where he,  
(Discovered by Majestic courtesy;  
Such real forms of worth, that (he was grown  
Rich in esteem, before more fully known.  
But long Truth stands not veiled in a disguise  
Of Ignorance, ere they are taught to prise  
His Friendship at a higher rate, by seeing  
Their active Valour had been blest in freeing  
The Cyprian Prince, for such he was, and then,  
Bound for Morea: this made public, when  
Acquaintance had taught Love more boldness, he  
All that discretion would permit to be  
Lodged in the Closet of a friendly Breast,  
Tells to Argalia, who (though in his best  
Of hopes, a Rival knowing him, was in  
Love too secure to harbour envious sin.  
Their prosperous Fleet, ere times short steps had trod  
In hours, a full day's Journey safely rod  
At Anchor in Ghirenza's Bay, from whence  
When known, their Cannons in a loud expense,  
Proclaim their welcome; the Acquaintance that  
The Cyprians Father, ere his youth stayed at  
Its Summer Solstice, with Cleander had,  
Revives i'th' Sun's embraces, which the glad  
City in th' triumphs echoes, ere 'twas known,  
That his Resolves were such, as Love was grown,  
The wishes of the people's throng, who thought  
That that unpolished Prince Zoranza brought  
Unequal strength of Merit, ere to win  
The Fort Pharonnida lodged Virtue in.  
When first they entered the admiring Court,  
Fame (wise men's care, but the Fools busy sport)  
Making the Ear the Eyes wise Harbinger,  
By Learning first their Virtues, did coffer  
Moore honour on their persons, they beheld  
Ith' Cyprian Prince heroic worth, yet swelled  
With no ambitious tumour, calm and free,  
As wholesome air, when its Ubiquity  
Breathes healthful blasts, where his smooth thoughts to all  
Most sweetly affable, but few could call  
His Love familiar, his Youth had not  
Yet learned rough War, although from Precept got  
Its useful Rudiments, and by Valour shows  
Future Command may pay what Action owes  
To speculation; by the Grave, sad man,  
Whose counsel could Conspiracies unspan,  
When ready to give fire, he is beheld,  
As one whose Virtues far his years excelled;  
And might, when at maturity afford  
Length to the Sceptre, from's victorious Sword.  
From this young Prince (Heavens hopeful Blossom) they  
Plealed but not satisfied, their Souls convey  
On those winged Messengers, their Eyes unto  
Manly Argalia, finding there a new  
And various form of worth on's Brow did sit,  
Reserved discretion, reconciled to Wit.  
Serious and grave his carriage, yet a Face,  
Where Loves fair Shrine did Wisdoms Temple grace.  
His scars (those broad Seals) which protecting sat,  
His future safety signed in, on him sat  
Not to deform, but until Age remain  
Like Maid's of Honour placed in Beauty's Train.  
True worth dwelled in the other; but in this  
Brave Hero's breast had her Metropolis.  
The Cyprians safety, and Sardinia's brave  
Redemption were the past:- ports which Fame gave  
Unto his travelling praise, which fled in haste  
Through th' ears short stages, in each breast had placed  
A Love of's worth, which wise men softly praise  
Whilst the loud throng to acclamations raise.  
Not long these trueborn Sons of honour in  
Palerino's Court remain, ere what had been  
The cause which had the youthful Cyprian drew  
Froms' Fathers Court, white fame presents unto  
Busy Inquirers; Which design from all  
Those swift (but weak recruits) good wishes call  
Except from some it most concerned, mongst which  
Cleander staggers unresolved, the rich  
And powerful Kingdom, which affinity  
With Cyprus promised, was a prize to be  
Valued before Epirus wealth, who though  
Of late victorious, yet could never grow  
Up to that glorious height. This thought the most  
Of all the ere obstructed love, had crossed  
Zoranza's hopes, had not his wishes been  
(Though covetously vast) confined within  
The others merits, amongst which the chief  
Opposes first itself, and the relief  
Whispers in's soul, that had been thence brought by  
Him, when his state wept blood for liberty.  
This in the Scale of Justice seemed as large  
As Love's dimensions, till a second charge  
Of thoughts proclaim the Cyprians power to do  
The same if in necessity sought to,  
Which blames becoming gratitude, as in  
Relation to servility, a sin  
In the great souls of Princes, who can be  
If they remain in debt for courtesy  
But Captives in the throne, too oft the cause  
Why meritorious Subjects meet the Laws  
Harsh Rigour for Reward, when their Deserts  
Many and great, o'er fill their Prince's hearts.  
Before Cleander's Gravity had laid  
This tempest of his Passions, Fame betrayed  
Their Cause to the Epicote Prince, who hears  
The Cyprians welcome, which his various fears  
But briefly comment on, before without  
More slow delays than what were spent about  
The swiftest preparations, he intends  
To visit fair Pharonnida, and ends  
His Journey, ere a thought unwinged with Love,  
Could lead him forth of's Court, which haste did prove  
His Passions stronger than the strength of age  
Appeared to promise what it might presage,  
To see at once two royal strangers in  
Their glorious Court, which both employed had been  
About one amorous Errand, strangely did  
Affect the Citizens, whose fears forbid  
The public Stage, in private whispers tells  
What danger lay betwixt those parallels.  
Yet in the opposition of those Scars,  
That shine in Passions sphere, Loves civil Wars  
Had no field Army, all his power did rest  
Within the private Garrisons o'th' breast,  
Which though besieged, by sly suspicion made  
No verbal Sallies, but prepare t'invade  
Beauties bright Province; yet, each only had  
A single Visit given unto the sad  
Sweet Object of their hopes, and thence received  
A Welcome, such as neither had bereaved  
The others hopes, both rather finding cause  
Of cold despair,; Cleander pleads the Laws  
Of Nature, and free choice, to wave his own  
Engagements to Zoranza, which had blown  
Loves sickly flame with the tempestuous breath  
Of anger forth, had not those thoughts to death,  
Ith' Bud been doomed: whilst thus his Passions slept  
In Love's soft Arms, the noble Cyprian kept  
A distance 'twixt his hopes and wishes by  
The stayed Epicots interest, both rely  
On their own Merits, and Loves doubtful sat,  
Makes subject to the Monarchy of Fate.  
But whilst this busy Combat of the heart  
On equal terms it fought, time bend to part  
The royal Champions, through the obscure Ports  
Of dark disguise into Love's field resorts,  
A third brave Combatant, whose Merit had  
(Though not i'th' Armour of great Titles clad)  
By parley won that Maiden Fort, which they  
Although they scaled, on golden Mountains, lay  
Before in vain; Argalia though within  
Ghirenza's Court, had yet a stranger been,  
More than in Fame and big Report, to her  
Whose best of thoughts wore his Soul's Character;  
And yet (although a Virgins bashful grace  
Concealed her own, for to behold that Face  
So much in debt to th' people's Praises) to  
Her window oft the royal Maid had drew,  
Where whilst his eyes did waste their Beams in vain,  
To pierce those stubborn Walls that did contain  
Rich Love's unvalued-Treasure, she beholds  
His brave Deportment, which, since strange, unfolds  
New Volumes of unprinted joy, which she  
(Sorrow affording so much liberty)  
Oft with delight looks o'er, beholding in't  
Argalia's Virtues in a different print.  
But his wise Fare, even when his prayer grew weak  
In Faith, did through hopes cold Antarctic break,  
In a long Summer's day, his noble friend  
The Princely Cyprian did so largely spend  
His st●ck of eloquence in's praise when he  
Last saw divine Pharonnida, that she  
Although from no remoter cause than springs  
From Virtues public love, tells him he brings  
His next best welcome with his Friend, which proud  
To be observant in, when time allowed  
A visit he performs. Now to the Court,  
Beauties dull Cloister, which no thronged resort  
Of Clients fill they're come, the surly Guard  
Those wakeful Dragons, did without reward  
Let in that danger in disguise, which had  
Met death i'th' entrance, if in that unclad.  
The way that clest the scowling Rock, being by  
A thousand steps ascended, they i'th' high  
Cliffs find the Royal Eaglet, trying that  
Bright eye of her fair soul, discretion at  
The fiery beams of anger, which were shot  
From her Majestic Father. Being got  
Once more to breathe his Soul upon that hand  
Where Loves first Vows, sealed with his Lips did stand  
(Knowledge inflaming passions Fever) like  
Unpractised Saints, which miracles do strike  
Into a Reverend zeal, he trembling takes  
That holy Relic, which a cold fear shakes  
In that warm touch. Her eyes fair splendour sho●e  
Like bright Stars, in heaven's trepidation  
Shook with the general motion, though betwixt  
The Spheres of Love and Wonder they stood fixed  
In their own Orbs, and their united beams  
Centred on him, yet (like dead friends which dreams  
Imperfectly present) his Lovely form,  
As Mariners, when Land is through a storm  
With doubtful joy deseryed, she sees, but yet  
Knowledge had met with no prospective fit  
To guide her through the dark disguise, unto  
The Road of truth, his Valour was in new  
Habiliments of honour clothed, and scars  
Made her Love's heaven adorned with unknown Stars.  
But whilst her Recollecting spirits were  
All busied, his Idea to compare  
With what she a saw, sudden glance o'th' eye  
Disvellopes truth, that Jewel which was by  
His first Protector left is seen, by which  
Hope (near impoverished with despair) grows rich  
In Faith (heavens tenure). But the rushing tide  
O'erflows so much, that Loves fresh Rivers glide  
Over weak natures banks, she faints, and in  
A silent joy (contracted what had been  
By Love dilated) from which giddy trance  
To rescue her Argalia doth advance  
To charge those troops of passions, which o'er her  
Had proved victorious, nor did sat defer  
Their Conquest long ere she displays again  
Beauties fair Banner in Love's Ivory plain.  
Th' imprisoned spirits freed, the blood in haste,  
(Fearing her Love had Wisdoms throne defaced  
To beauty's Frontiers flies. So mornings weep  
And blush together when they over-sleep  
Themselves in nights black bed. Though fears dull charms  
Whilst in the circle of Argalia's arms  
Like Dreams fantastic Visions vanish. in  
Her waking joys, yet knowing they had been  
Betrayed into a stranger's view, they both  
Stood mute with passion, till the Cyprian, loath  
To add more weights unto affliction, by  
Imping Loves wings with noble courtesy  
Fans off the Southern clouds of fear, and thus  
Calms the loud storm; Doubt not because to us,  
(Fair Princess) Loves mysterious Riddles are  
By accident resolved, the factious war  
Shall be renewed, such base intelligence,  
Traitors and Spies give, when the dark offence,  
Starts at discovery; if my service may  
Be useful (Know) I sooner dare betray  
My sins to th' world, than your intentions to  
A smooth Seducer: This rare interview  
May be my wonder; but shall never prove  
My guilt, though all the stratagems of Love  
Lay open to my heart, which though unskilled  
In his Polemmicks, yet with truth is filled.  
Since now too late to seek protection by  
A faint denial, the wished privacy  
Their Room afforded, gives them leave to lead  
His apprehension, where conceit did read  
The story of Love's civil Wars, whose Rage  
Since treaty could not calm, makes him engage  
His stock of power in their defence, and end  
His Passions progress to let Love attend  
On Friendships royal Train, what not the force  
Of Earth's united Beauties could divorce;  
Nor Wealths, nor Honours strong Attractions draw  
To other Objects, by that holy Law  
Informed, as hateful Sacrilege doth fly,  
The bold intrusion on Love's Hierarchy.  
With joy assured of such a powerful Friend  
The hopeful Lovers sadder cares suspend,  
To lay the platform of their safety by  
A fair escape, but fear doth oft untie  
The golden webs of Fancy, when they come  
To name the means, Invention than struck dumb,  
Startles into distraction; no smooth stroke  
Of soft palmd flattery could ere provoke  
Sleep in her watchful Dragons, nor no shower  
Of ponderous Gold pierce through her sable Tower.  
The harsh Commander of her surly Guard,  
Wakeful as foaming Cerberus, and hard  
As Parian Quars, a heart that could not melt  
In Love's Alimbeck, the Slave never felt  
His Darts, but when Lust gave the wound, and then  
(Seared with enjoying) the blood stops again,  
And leaves behind the Fever, which Disease  
Now in him raged, Amphibia that could please  
None but a sympathising Nature, in  
His blood had both Disease and Medicine been  
With Lust's Enchantments, thick loose glances, first  
Breeding a Calenture, whose sickly thirst  
Consenting, sin allays again; but long  
This Monster thrives not in the dark, ere strong  
By custom grown, with Impudence he dares  
Affront unvaild Report, and boldly bears  
Himself above those headstrong Torrents, by  
Whose streams harsh Censure grew to calumny,  
Which careless pride did unobstruct the way,  
Through which to liberty Loves progress lay.  
A short delay, which lets not Fancy rest  
In idle thought, their Actions did digest  
Into a Method; the succeeding Night  
To that great day by whose triumphant light,  
Their Annual Feasts her Birth did celebrate,  
The time designed, which done, to struck rough Fate  
Into a calm, Argalia first finds out  
Despised Florenza, then employed about  
Course Housewifery in the dull Country, where  
She soon became a Partner of his care;  
Prepares for safety with a diligence,  
Whose privacy pays lavish Time's expense.  
Now from Night's swarthy Region rose that day,  
'Gainst which Invention taught her Babes the way  
To levelly at delight, though she flew high  
As Monarch's breasts, Beauty and Valour vie  
Each other in a conquering Pride, within  
A spacious field, that ought before had been  
The Theatre of Martial sports, each Knight,  
Whom the desire of honour did invite  
By her swift Herald, Fame, were met, and all  
Whom the respects of either part did call  
To th' Epicotes, or young Cyprians part  
Repair unto their Tents, which rich in Art,  
Adorned both sides o'th' stately Lists, and lent  
Their Beauties to be Prospects Ornament.  
Near to the Scaffold every seat was filled,  
With bright Court beauties, Ladies that did gild  
Youth (Nature's Throne of polished Ivory) in  
Pride, there but greatness, though low Fortune's sin.  
Ranged next to these the City Madams, that  
Came both to wonder, and be wondered at,  
Fine (as on their first Lady-dayes) did sit  
Comparing Fashions, to commend their wit;  
Besides the Silkworms spoils (their husband's gain)  
Jewels they wore (like Eyes in Beauties Wane)  
Grown dim with Age, so dim, that they did look  
As if they'd been from plunderd Delphos took,  
Although that sprung from Faction, yet each Face,  
Was all set form, hardly affording place  
For a stolen smile, save when some ticklish Lord  
Strikes sail, which they could wish should come abroad,  
Below, near to the overheated throng  
Sweet Country beauties, such as ne'er did wrong  
Nature with nicer Art were seated, where  
Though big, rude pride cast them in Honour's Rear,  
Yet in Love's Province they appeared to have  
Command from their acknowledged beauty gave,  
Humble their Looks, yet Virtue there kept state,  
And made even Envy wish to imitate  
Their Fashions, not fantastic, yet their dress  
Made Gallantry in Love with comeliness.  
Whilst here the learnt Astronomers of Love,  
Observed how Eyes (those wand'ring Stars) did move,  
And thence with heedful Art did calculate  
Approaching changes in that doubtful state;  
The Princess (like the Planet of the day)  
Comes with a lustre forth that did betray  
The others beams into contempt, and made  
The Morning Stars of meaner beauties fade,  
Sadly confessing by their Languished light,  
They shone but when her absence made it Night:  
Stately her look, yet not too high to be  
Seen in the Valleys of Humility;  
Clear as Heaven's Brow was hers, her smiles to all,  
Like the Sun's comforts, Epidemical:  
Yet by the boldest Gazer, with no less  
Reverence adored, than Persians in distress;  
Do that bright power, who though familiar by,  
An airy Medium, still is throned on high.  
Lest the ungovernd Multitude which raise  
Their eyes to her, should in their lavish praise,  
From zeal, to superstition grow, they're now  
Drawn off, the entered Combatants allow  
Their Eyes no further leisure, but beginning  
Their Martial sports, with various fate were winning  
Bright victories Laurels. But I here must let  
Honour in their own stories Live, the debt  
I owe to promise, but extends unto  
The fortune of our royal Lovers, who  
(Though both concerned in this) have actions far  
More full of Fate approaching, that bright Star,  
Which gave Argalia Victory here, scarce shows  
Its spangled Records unto which he owes,  
Far more sublime protection, yet it lends  
Vigour to that bright Planet which attends  
His future fortune, and discovers all  
His Astracismes in rising Cosmical;  
Followed with Acclamations, such as made  
The troops of envy tremble to invade  
His conquering Fame, he leaves the Field, and by  
Cleander with Rewards of Victory  
First honoured in the public view, is brought  
From thence to meet delicious mirth in soft  
Retired Delights, which in a spacious flood,  
From Prince's breasts to tenifie the blood  
Of the blunt Soldier hasts, whose dull souls swelled  
With airy pleasures had from thought expelled  
All sullen Cares, and levelled paths, unto  
Designs which did to their neglect ensue.  
The black-browed Night to Court the drowsy World,  
Had put her starry Mantle on, and hurled  
Into the Sea (their spacious breasted Mother)  
Her dark Attendants, silent sleep did smother  
Exalted Clamours, and in private meets  
The busy Whisperer sporting 'twixt his sheets,  
Veiled in which shady calm, Argalia by  
The noble Cyprian only, in his high  
Attempt assisted, now prepares to free  
The great Preserver of his liberty.  
Come to the Bridge, that to secure the sleep  
Oth' careless Guard, which slender watch did keep,  
Finding it drawn, the depth, and ugly look  
Oth' heavy stream, had from the Cyprian took  
All hopes of passage, till that doubt did end  
In greater fear (the danger of his Friend)  
Who with a Courage high, as if in that  
He'd centered all the world did tremble at,  
In his precedent Victories, had cast  
Himself to th' mercy of the stream, and past  
In safety o'er, though Nets enough were spread  
On her dark Face to make his Death's cold bed.  
Giving his Spirits leave to fortify  
His heart with breath, he than ascends the high  
Opposing Cliffs, which in an ugly pride,  
Threatened beneath her ruin'd Scales to hide  
That rising flame of honour; being come  
To th' other side a Sentry, but struck dumb  
With sleeps prevailing Rhetoric he finds,  
Upon whose Keys he seizes, and then binds  
His sluggish Limbs ere full awake, convays  
Him to a place, whence no loud cry betrays  
The sounds of danger to his Fellows, that  
Reveld in louder mirth, unstartled at  
The River's depth, the wondering Cyprian now  
Crossed the united Bridge, and being taught how  
By imitation to slight danger, goes  
With his brave Friend toward their careless Foes.  
Not far they were advanced, before they hear  
Approaching steps, a Soldier was drawn near,  
Which to relieve, the other came, but shared  
In his misfortune, ere he had prepared  
To make resistance, which attempt succeeds,  
So equal to their wishes, that there ne●ds  
No more to strengthen Faith; by the command  
Oth' Wil● best Leader (Reason) both did stand  
A while to view their danger, through a way  
Narrow and dark their dreadful passage lay;  
The rugged Rock upon each side so steep,  
That should they've miss, no trembling hold could keep  
Them from the grasp of death; to add to this,  
More forms of horror from the dark Abyss,  
Which undermined the Rocks rough sides they hear,  
A hollow murmur; the black Towers appear,  
Flanked with destruction, every part did hold  
Peculiar terror, but the whole unfold,  
Through the black Glass of Night, a Face like that,  
Which Chaos wore, ere time was wakened at  
The first great Fiat, or could ought appear,  
More dark and dreadful, know 'twas emblem'd here.  
Safe past through the first steps of danger, they  
Now to the main Guard come, whom they betray  
By a soft knock, of all conceived 't had been  
The Voice their Sentry called for entrance in,  
Their Errand undisputed, Postern Gates  
Are open thrown, at which the royal Mates  
Both rushing in, strangely amaze them, but  
Now being entered, 'twas too late to shut  
The danger forth, nor could Confusion lend  
Their trembling Nerves a strength fit to defend  
By opposition, in base flight lay all  
Their hopes of life, which some attempting fall  
On the dark road of death, but few escape,  
To show their fellows dangers dreadful shape.  
Whilst here like powerful winds that dissipate  
Infectious damps in unobstructed state,  
Their valour Reigned, to tell them that the way  
Which led unto the Princess freedom lay,  
Yet through more slippery paths of blood, with haste  
Wild as their Rage; Burmorch●● Brother's placed,  
That Guards Commanders enter, loose neglect,  
Which drew them thence, since cause of that effect,  
They now redeem with speed; Riot had not  
Unnerved their Limbs, although their blood grew hot,  
With large intemperate Draughts, the Fever yet  
Ith' Spirits only dwelled, till this rude fit  
On the stretched heart lays hold in flames, which had  
Scorched Valours Wings, if not in Judgement clad.  
Here (though their numbers equal were, yet in  
A larger Volume danger had not been  
Often before presented to the view  
Of the brave Champions, as if she had drew  
With doubtful Art Lines in the Scheam of Fate,  
For them and their proud Foes, pale Virtue sat  
Trembling for fear her power should not defend  
Her Followers 'gainst that strength which did attend  
Those big-boned Villains strokes, beneath whose force  
The Cyprian Prince had felt a sad divorce  
Of Nature's Wedlock, if when sinking in  
The Icy sleep, deaths wide Gorge had not been  
Stopped by a stroke from fierce Argalia sent,  
To aid him when in his defence he'd spent  
His stock of strength, freed by which happy blow,  
From Janus Guard, since now his Friend lay low▪  
Near Deaths dark Valley, he contracts his power,  
To quench the others Lamp of Life, a shower  
Of wounds le's fall on's Enemy, which now  
Clogged his Souls upper Garments, and allow  
His Eyes dim Optics, no more use of light,  
Then what directs him in a staggering flight.  
Yet in the darkness of approaching death,  
In Mischiefs Sables, that small stock of breath  
That yet remains to Cloth, he suddenly  
Gives fire unto a Cannon that was by  
Wise care ordained to give intelligence,  
When big with danger, fear could not dispense  
With times delays; the Princess that within  
Her Closet, had that fatal Evening been  
Retired and sad, whilst strong winged prayer acquaints  
Her flaming zeal with Heavens whole Quite of Saints,  
Thus startled by the treacherous thunder all  
H●r yet unnumberd stock of Beads lets fall  
'Mongst those that prayer had ranked, and did implore  
In one great shrick deliverance, to her door  
Hasts to behold the danger of those Friends  
On whose success (Love's fortress) hope depends.  
Where being come, her eyes first progress met  
Her prayers Reward, even whilst his Sword was wet  
With blood (the balm of Victory) but long  
The Ecstasies of Fancy, though more strong  
Than sacred Raptures last not, all was now  
Too full of noise and tumult, to allow  
A Room for Passions flow, disputes within  
The Schools of Action, loud Alarms in  
The Castle, Court, and City raged, all were  
Huddled into confusion, some prepare  
To fly, what others with an Ignorance,  
As great (though bolder) to oppose advance.  
Here had our Heaven-protected Lovers lost,  
What such large sums of prayers and tears had cost,  
Had not the torrent of the people's throng,  
When rushing towards the Castle, by a strong  
Voice, danger, been diverted to prevent  
A hungry flame, which in the Cyprians Tent  
Began, had spread its aire-dilated wings  
Over the City, whose feared danger brings  
On them a worse distemperature, than all  
Their last Night's Surfeits, whilst proud Turrets fall  
In their own Ashes, the discordant Bells,  
Ordained to call for aid, but ring their Kneels,  
That in a drunken fury, half awake  
First their warm Beds, and then their Lives forsake,  
For to destruction here big pride had swelled,  
Had not Night's errors been by day expelled.  
With swift Calls frighted, but more terrified  
At their sad Cause, Fear being his doubtful Guide;  
The stout Epicote to Cleander's Court,  
Repairs, and there amongst a thick resort  
Of Subjects, finds the Prince distracted by  
Those Epidemic Clamours that did fly  
From every part o'th' City, to appease  
Whose fury whilst he goes, the sharp disease,  
In flames feeds on her ruin'd beauty, and  
Mounts on insulting wings, which to withstand,  
Th' amazed Inhabitants did stop its flight,  
With the whole weight of Rivers, till that light  
Which an Usurper on the sooty Throne  
Of darkness sat, vanished, or only shone  
From their dim Torches Rays, the Prince thus stayed,  
In's hasty Journey, till the flames allayed,  
Lent safety to the City, by it gave  
The royal Fugitives the time to save  
Themselves by flight, from those ensuing ills,  
Whose clamorous Scouts (rude sounds) the stirred air fills.  
Descended to the Gardens Postern Gate,  
A place where silence yet unruffled sat.  
A Night obscure, and an unhaunted way,  
Conspiring their Pursuers to betray,  
To dark mistakes, with silent Joy which had  
All Fears pale symptoms in Loves purple clad;  
Close as that bold Attempter, whose brave theft  
Was sacred fire (the walks behind them left)  
Argalia hasts unto the Castle Moat,  
With his rich prize, there a neglected Boat  
Half hid amongst the Willow Beds, finds ou●,  
In which Pharonnida, that nought could doubt,  
Whilst her successful Lover steerd, passed o'er  
To meet the safety of a larger Shore.  
The end of the third Book.    

PHARONNIDA. The Fourth Book.  

CANTO I.  
The Argument.  

I.  
Whilst noise and tumult fills the Court, the sad  
Orlinda to lament alone, retired,  
Finds the brave Captain in deaths symptoms clad,  
Whose perfect health her friendly care acquired.   

II.  
The Scouts with an unwelcome emptiness  
Of news returned; the Princess secret flight  
Yet well succeeds, but now in sad distress  
Find a black morning to that dismal night.   
When Fear, like an unskilful Pilot in  
A storm distracted, long in vain had been  
Placed at the helm of Action, whilst those rude  
Waves, raised by greater winds, the Multitude  
Swelled with uncertain counsels, all met in  
A thick and dangerous confluence, those within  
The Castle by a hotter passion to  
A high wrought fury startled, did undo  
Those links of council, which the other broke  
With corrosives of fear, by the rude stroke  
Of heedless Anger, whose uncivil strife  
Had robed Revenge of justice, and each life  
That here was in death's inundation spilt,  
Shed but to aggrevate a private guilt;  
Had not the Prince, whose angers flame they feared  
More than grim death, t'appease the storm appeared.  
Beat from the outworks of their hopes, all in  
A busy tumult are employed within  
The Princess lodgings; but there only find  
Their knowledge by her secret flight struck blind,  
Stumbled on errors; No characters but what  
The wasteful hand of death had scattered at  
The Guard informs them; and even those seem left  
The weak opposers of successful theft,  
Dropped as their Foes victorious fate slew by,  
To show his fortune, and their loyalty.  
Leaving which late warm tenements of breath,  
Without once throwing up that bed of death,  
Their grave-cloaths o'er them, every active friend  
Hasts toward her search, whilst suffering females spend  
The hours (grown slow since burdened by their fears)  
In prayers, whose doubts they numbered by their tears.  
But amongst all of those that sacrificed  
Tears to her loss, sorrow had most disguised  
Lovely Orlinda, the fair sister to  
The vexed Messenian, who with Love that grew  
From equal attributes of Honour, in  
The parallels of Beauty placed had been  
In this restraint of liberty so long  
Her pleased Companion, that her grief too strong  
For comfort grown, to mourn her absence she  
Forsaking all her friends society,  
Whilst seeking of some shady grove is brought  
To one whose vail, black as her darkest thought,  
Appeared so much a stranger to the light,  
That solitude did thither soon invite  
The pensive Lady, who, whilst entering, by  
A deep groans sound diverted, turns her eye  
Toward one, who near the utmost ebb of life  
Disguised in's blood, was with the latest strife  
Of death contending; at the dreadful view  
Of which sad object she retreating to  
Some of her maids, who fearing to intrude  
Whilst she appeared intending solitude,  
A distance kept, made hold by number, now  
Return to see if life did yet allow  
A room for help, or if his soul were fled,  
To let their care entomb the helpless dead.  
Arrived so near, that through the rubric veil  
Of's blood they saw how life did yet prevail  
O'er death's convulsions, they behold one lie,  
Whose wound's an object for their charity,  
Soon drew them nearer in such trembling haste,  
As if they feared those lavish springs would waste  
Life's stock too fast; where come, with linen soft  
And white as were those hands that thither brought  
That blessing, having gently wiped away  
His blood, his face discovered did betray  
Him to their knowledge; for the Cyprian Prince  
All soon conclude him, whose desert e'er since  
That Court she knew, had to Orlinda proved  
A dear delight, yet she ne'er knew she loved,  
Till her soft pity, and his sad distress  
Conspiring to betray that bashfulness  
Whose blushes scorched that tender plant, did now  
Even in their fortune's roughest storm allow  
It leave to grow, safe, since yet passing by  
No other name but noble charity.  
By all the nimblest stratagems which Art  
E'er learned from nature, striving to impart  
The best of mortal blessings, health, unto  
Her Royal patient, praised Orlinda grew  
So high in his deserved esteem, that though  
Posterity doth to his friendship owe  
For their most perfect copy, knowing she  
Too much adored Pharonnida to be  
Her base betrayer, when his healths advance  
Gave way for language, every circumstance  
Declares which was in that so fatal night,  
The sad preludiums to her secret flight;  
By which when she whose love (though full of fire)  
Yet lay raked up in a remote desire,  
Unstirred by hope, with joy had learned that he  
More than what friendship parronized, was free  
From all affection to the Princess, in  
Her eyes, which until then had clouded been.  
Love with as bright and pure a flame as ere,  
Did in the shades of modesty declare;  
Passion, breaks forth, which happy signs by him  
Whose heart, her eyes, even whilst they shone most dim  
With mutual flames had fired, that loyal love  
Which fate in vain shall struggle to remove,  
Begins with flames as innocently bright  
As the first rays of new created light.  
But stay rash Reader, think not they're led  
Through these smooth walks unto their nuptial bed;  
But now, behold, that their misfortune prove,  
Which thou hast wept for, if thou e'er didst love  
A separation, the suspicion that  
Sparta's vexed King, when first distempered at  
His daughter's loss, did of this stranger Prince  
Justly conceive, persuades him now that since  
Not found within the Cyprian Court, that he  
Who had been vainly sought abroad might be  
Yet lodged at home, which supposition bred  
So strict a search, that though the silent dead  
Not silenter than her Attendants were,  
Yet kind Orlinda whom a pious care  
Prompted to save what she did yet possess,  
Whilst seeking with a Lover's tenderness  
How to secure him, doth at length convey  
Her roving fancy to this hopeful way.  
Not long before, though now 'twere silenced in  
Domestic ills, Report had busied been  
In the relating of the sad distress  
Of a brave Lybian Prince, whom heaven to bless  
With an eternal Crown, in midst of all  
His Youths fresh glories, by a powerful call  
Summons to serve her, and that faith which he  
Had from the early dawn of infancy  
Sucked from the great Impostor of the East,  
Though now by time Opinions strength increased,  
Spite of a people's prayers or father's threats  
Wholly forsaking; which revolt begets  
So much aversion, pity could invent  
Nought easier than perpetual banishment  
To punish what their faith, mistaken in  
Its object, terms a black Apostates sin.  
Disguised in such a dress, as pity might  
Expect t'encounter so distressed a Wight  
As was that wand'ring Prince, attended by  
No train but what becomes th'obscurity  
Of such a fortune, to the Spartan Court  
Amindor comes, where though the thick resort  
Of well known friends might justly make him fear  
Some treacherous eye; knowledge could ne'er appear  
Through that black vail his happy art had took  
To make him like a sunburnt Lybian look.  
Yet what engaged them more than safety in  
Prayers to heaven, his person had not been  
Not long the wonder of the Court, before  
His fairer virtues which adorned him more  
Than th'other could disguise, did justly prove  
The happy object of the Prince's love,  
Whose influence whilst it him to power did raise  
Taught by reflex the people how to praise  
That fair election, till the Pyramed  
Raised to his fame, had fixed its lofty head  
Above the clouds of fortune, yet not this  
Fates fairest smile, a Lovers best of bliss,  
A free commerce, which unsuspected might,  
Though long and pleasant as the Summer's light,  
Be ne'er disturbed, with fair Orlinda gives  
Content such fullness, that although he lives  
To all unknown but her alone, in that  
Enjoyed more than ambition e'er aimed at.  
And now from all the fruitless diligence  
Of inquisitions, and the vain expense  
Of time, returned were every troop that had  
True forlorn hopes been, Active in the sad  
Search of Pharonnida, which ending in  
A just despair, some that till then within  
The Castle walls had (though as vainly) sought,  
Their sorrow forth, before the grieved Prince brought  
Brunorchus, whom they in a small lodge, where  
Secured by solitude, the household care  
Of locks and bolts were vain unsought, they found  
In the soft bands of griefs, best opiate bound,  
Sleep, who though throned within her ebbon seat  
From lusts hor field appears, but his retreat  
When tired with action; for besides him they  
Where's poison's antidote, Amphibia lay  
Blocked up in's arms, beheld the air with all  
Their voices struck at length, had raised a call  
That drowned their sleeping thunder, from the bed  
Brunorchus starting struggles to have fled  
The shameful danger, whilst Amphibia creeps  
Beneath her sheets protection, but nought keeps  
Pursuing vengeance back, there took, and brought  
Before the Prince, who startled at the thought  
Of such a complicated crime, refers  
Their punishment to death 's dire Messengers.  
The yet successful Lovers long e'er this  
Safely arrived at their first stage of bliss,  
Florenza's low unenvied roof, did there  
Since speed was now the fairest child of care,  
Stay only to exchange their horse, and take  
With her a guide whose practic skill could make  
Their untrod paths familiar, through a low  
Dark vail where shade-affecting weeds did grow  
Eternal strangers to the Sun, did lie  
The narrow path, frequented only by  
The forest Tyrants when they bore their prey  
From open dangers of discovering day.  
Past through this desert valley, they were now  
Climbing an easy hill, where every bough  
Maintained a feathered chorister to sing  
Soft Pahegyricks, and the rude winds bring  
Into a murmuring slumber, whilst the calm  
Morn on each leaf did hang her liquid balm,  
With an intent before the next Sun's birth  
To drop it in those wounds which the cleft earth  
Received from's last days beams, the hills ascent  
Wound up by action, in a large extent  
Of leavy plains, shows them the canopy  
Beneath whose shadow their large way did lie:  
Which being looked o'er, whilst thankful praise did pay  
Their debts to heaven, they thence with a convey  
Of prayers (those swift ambassadors) did send  
A hopeful glance towered their large journey's end.  
These short surveys past, since the place assures  
A safe repose to cool the Calentures  
Of feverish action, down a way that led  
From Pleasure's throne unto her fragrant bed  
A rank of Laurels, spreading to protect  
The flowery path, which not unpruned neglect  
Robbed of delight, they passed, the slow descent  
Soon brings them where her richest ornament  
(Although with art unpleited) Nature in  
A lovely Landshape wore, that once had been  
Sacred to th'Islands fruitful Goddess; here  
Whilst they behold the infants of the year  
Ith' Springs unsullied livery clad, the fair  
And large-limbed trees, preparing to repair  
Autums spent stock, from out an humble hill  
A tributary fountain did distil  
The earth's cold blood, and murmuring convays  
It on a bed of pebbles, till it pays  
Her debts to th' neighbouring river. Near to it  
Full Choruses of feathered Hero's sit  
Amidst their willow-mansions, to whose ease  
Their shrill notes call the sportive Dryads.  
Whilst by the brightest glories of that age  
This Royal robe worn in a hermitage  
Is seen with such a silent sad delight  
As smooths the furrows of an Anchorite;  
Their solemn walk had brought them to a green  
Skirt of that mantle fairly spread between  
Two mossy rocks, that near the crystal 'slud  
Appendices to larger mountains stood:  
Near which they saw, with mournful majesty,  
A heap of solitary ruins lie  
Half-sepulchred in dust, the bankrupt heir  
To prodigal Antiquity, whose fair  
Composures did (beneath times pride sunk low)  
But dim vestigias of their beauty show.  
Yet that it might unreverend gazers tell  
It once was sacred Ceres' image fell  
From a throne's splendour did neglected lie  
Sunk with her temple to deformity,  
Dark, gloomy groves, which holy altars shade  
With solitude, such as religion made  
Full of an awful reverence, and drew  
The ravished soul from the world's wand'ring view,  
Circled the sacred valley, into one  
Of which our Royal Lovers were alone  
Retired in private solitude to pay  
Sleeps forfeitures, whilst the bright bloomy day  
Sweats the hidroptick earth, but joy denies  
That sullen guest an entrance in their eyes.  
Their eyes, which now like wand'ring Planets met  
After a race of cross aspects, and set  
Within a firmament of beauty, thence  
On Love's cold Region dropped their influence;  
Warmed by whose vigour, springs of pleasures had,  
Watering their cheeks, those fields in roses clad.  
Fear, that till now had made them languish in  
A dangerous hectic, or at best had been  
But cased with intervals, which did include  
Ambiguous hopes in times vicissitude,  
Ceased to usurp, yet (though the throne expelled)  
A large command in Reason's Empire held  
Leading those parties which wise counsel sent  
Close ambuscadoed dangers to prevent;  
Nor could the conduct fail, assailed by aught  
Within the circuit of extended thought.  
Deliberation (the souls wary Scout)  
Being still employed to lead fresh parties out  
'Gainst the known enemies of hope. But here  
Black Troops of danger, undiscerned of fear,  
Assaults unrallied fortitude, whilst she  
Slept 'mongst the rose-beds of security.  
Exalted far above the gross mistakes  
Of vulgar love, clothed in such thoughts as shakes  
Ripe souls from out their husks of earth, to be  
Picked up by Angels, joys Stenography  
In their embraces met; not with less strength  
Of love (though yet not to be wrought at length)  
Then that which meets in nuptial folds when they  
Reap Heavens first blessing, in their bloods alloy  
Met their full seas of passion, yet both calm  
As virtue's brow, their blood but warmed like balm  
To pour in sorrows wounds, not boiled into  
A scum of lust, The world's first man did woe  
The blushing offspring of his side, the fi●st  
Unpractickt Virgin, with as great a thirst  
Of blood as theirs, when in the safe defence  
Of Paradise each act was innocence.  
Here whilst th●ir sweet employment was discourse  
Taught in the School of Virtue, to divorce  
Those maiden brides, their twisted eye-beams, sleep  
Which flies the open gates of care, did creep  
In at their crystal windows to remove  
The lamp of joy, filled with the oil of love.  
The Princess spirits fled from the distress  
Of action into calm for getfulness  
Having the Curtains drawn, Argalia's head  
Softly reposing on her lap (that bed)  
Of precious odours, there receives a while  
A rest, for sweetness such as Saints beguile  
Time in, in their still dormitories till  
Heaven's summons shall their hopes on earth fulfil.  
Removed from them, feeding his horses in  
A well-fle●●'d meadow which that age had seen  
Till then ne'er lose its Summer robe before,  
Russet with age, he put it off, and wore  
A glittering tissue furred with snow, did lie  
Their careful guide, secure, till frighted by  
A dreadful noise of horse, whose rushing wakes  
Him to behold; what seen with terror shakes  
Off sleeps declining weights, in such a strange  
Amaze as (forts surprised) the scared guards, change  
Their swords for Fetters, flying he looks back  
On the steel fron●ed troop, till at his back  
Approaching danger gathering in a cloud  
Of death overwhelms him, frighting with its loud  
Exalted clamours from their then closed eyes,  
(Loves altars,) sleeps intended sacrifice.  
Shaken from their slumber with the first salutes  
Of light to meet their ruin, thick recruits  
Of brave resolves into Argalia's breast,  
Had swiftly summoned; but the Princess rest.  
Exchanged for wild amazement, in which sad  
Restraint of spirits, life with beauty had  
Fled to the silent Region, if not by  
Her Royal friend supported, who the high  
Pitch of exalted anger, whilst he draws  
His sword to vindicate their righteous cause,  
Descends to comfort her, thinking those troops  
Her Father's Messengers, his brave soul stoops  
Not to request a favour; but although  
Their multitude, in hopes account outgrow  
Life more than those diseases which attend  
On ages cold extreme, he dares defend  
Love, though by vigour of supreme commands  
Deprived of favor's mercenary Bands.  
Prompted by power that sovereign antidote  
'Gainst Nature's poison, baseness and by roate)  
Not Arts fair Rules, taught Lessons of defence:  
These dregs of men, not having more pretence  
Than what from Riot was extorted, in  
Unwieldy throngs the conquest strive to win  
From single valour, not the powerful prayer  
Of her whose voice had purified the air  
To a seraphic excellence, the sweet,  
Heaven loved Pharonnida could come to meet  
Pity in this rude wilderness, her words  
Losing their form in the wild air affords  
Their busy souls no heedful leisure, but  
With wilder passions the soul's portals shut.  
That sober friend to happy solitude,  
Silence, which long those blessed shades did include,  
By rude noise banished from her solemn Throne,  
Did in a deep and hollow echo groan;  
Whilst the brave Champion, whose own worth did bring  
Assistance, yet had in a bloody ring  
Strewed death's pale triumphs, and in safety stands  
The dangerous business of so many hands,  
All which had in the grave joined palms, if by  
One stroke that index unto victory,  
His sword, had not with sudden breaking proved  
Traitor to th' strength by whose command it moved.  
Robbed of this safe defence, Valour's brave flame  
In vain is spent, that Pyramid of fame  
Built by his hand over Loves fair temple, now  
Even in the view of is Saint is forced to bow  
Beneath an earthquake, his commanding soul  
In this sharp conflict, striving to control  
Nature, (rebellious to her power) le's fly  
In vain the piercing lightning of the eye,  
Whose dark leads drooping in a death like close,  
Forbids high fury thundering on his foes.  
He falls, and from each purple salliport  
Of wounds, tired spirits, in a thick resort  
Fly the approach; in which wild trance  
His eyes did their declining lights advance  
Above their gloom of darkness to convey  
The last faint beam of natures falling day  
To his distressed Pharonnida: but she  
In clouds of sorrow lost, was gone to be  
Close mourner for his rigid fare beneath  
A pale sowns shady vale, and could not breathe  
One sigh to welcome those sick guests, nor lend  
A beam to light them to their journey's end;  
Which being deprived of, in deaths dark disguise  
Forgetful shadows did obscure his eyes.  
Branded with an ignoble victory,  
His base oppressors, staying not to try  
Where fire remains in life's dark lamp, forsake  
Their bleeding shame, and only with them take  
The trembling Ladies, whose amazement yet  
Griefs floodgates shuts in a distracting fit  
Of wilder passions, circled in which cloud  
She's hurried thence; and ere that damp aloud  
Light through her souls prospectives, had passed o'er  
Much of the Desert, and arrived before  
A barren Rocks proud front; which being too steep  
For the laborious traveller, a deep  
Dark vault did pierce, whose dismal black descent  
Safe passage to a distant valley lent.  
With slow ill-boding steps, this horrid way  
O'ercome, they meet the Beauties of the day  
Within the pregnant vale, a place that showed  
Some art had pruned what natures hand bestowed.  
No earth-encumbring weeds, but wholesome plants  
Such as relieve the winter of our wants,  
Were here in comely order placed, each tree  
Tired with his fruitful burden stoops to be  
Eased by the lowliest hand; for want of which  
Their feeble stems had dropped them to enrich  
Their pregnant mother; this civility  
Proclaiming more than art had meant to be  
The dress of deserts, did at first appear  
As if those useful blessings had for fear  
That wasteful man should ravish them to feed  
his luxury, fled thither; none that need  
Such thrifty joys in the circumference  
Oth' valley seeming to have residence.  
All whose exalted pride did terminate  
The levelled eye, was a round hill that sat  
As centre to the golden vale, come near  
To which, what did externally appear  
A rock in ivy dressed, being entered showed  
The beauties of a gorgeous palace, hewed  
Out of the living stone, whose vaulted breast  
Had by the union of each part expressed  
The strength of Concord; The black Rock was all  
Tinselled with windows, over which did fall  
Thin Ivy-wreaths, like Cobweb-vails that shade  
The salliports of Beauty, only made  
To cool, not darken, and on those that sit  
Within bestow a shady benefit.  
They being drawn near, a sad old man that sat  
Unwilling Porter, from the spacious gate  
Withdrew the verdant curtain, she is now  
Entered the Castle, where could fear allow  
Her eyes that liberty she had surveyed,  
Buildings, whose strength with beauty joined, betrayed  
Times modern issues to contempt, and by  
A lasting glory praised antiquity.  
But Pleasure spreads her baits in vain, she sat  
Beneath the frozen Arctic of her fate,  
Whilst he from whose aspect she only felt,  
Delightful heat, in's winter-solstice dwelled.  
More to depress her sinking spirits, she  
Too soon finds cause to think that gravity  
She met i'th' entrance, but the reverend shade  
Of injured worth, which accident had made  
Stoop to that bondage, virtue drooping in  
His furrowed cheeks, as if deposed, she'd been  
Thither confined within the walls, to let  
Imperious vice her painted banners set.  
A troop of wild Bandits, villains whose guilt  
Shunned public haunts, heavns private blessings spilt  
There in luxurious riot, which grown bold  
By toleration, durst to th' light unfold  
Vices deformedst issues; nought by th' name  
Of sin being known, but sins betrayer, shame.  
In such a loose intemperance as reigns  
In conquered cities, when the soldiers pains  
With spoils of peace is paid, they lived: 'mongst these  
Some few unhappy women kept t'appease  
Lust's tumults, she beheld, whose looks betrayed  
A sickly guilt, and made the Royal maid  
Amidst her griefs cold symptoms blush to see  
How pale they looked with Lust's deformity.  
Whilst these are viewed, with such a change as that  
Poor Village-drunkards are enforced to at  
An Officers approach, when the night grows  
Deep as their draughts, she sees them all compose  
Their late wild looks; nor was this dress of fear  
In vain put on, Almanzor did appear  
Dreaded Almanzor, who on them had built  
A power, which though by unsuccessful guilt  
Banished to th' desert, forced their wants to be  
The helpless sufferers of his tyranny.  
Past through the fear dispersed throng, he's to  
The Princess come, where startled at the view  
Of Majesty, shrinks back, unsteady haste  
Which brought him there but to view Beauties placed  
Within the reach of is lust, assaulted by  
Objects that both to love and loyalty  
Had proved him an apostate, to retreat  
Within a blush attempts; but that's too great  
A friend to bashful virtue in that face  
Whose heart deposes her, to sprinkle grace.  
Ruffled with this recoil of spirits, in  
Such troubled haste as Novices begin  
New conned orations, he himself applies  
To th' injured Lady, whose brave spirit flies  
Not what she feared, but with the brave defence  
Of scorn opposes blushless impudence,  
Crushing the embrios of that language, in  
Whose guilty accents he attempts to win  
Opinions favour, and by that redeem  
What former guilt had lost in her esteem.  
Contemned with such a look as Princes cast  
On overbold usurpers, he is past  
The first encounter of her eye, and she  
Turned in disdain to show her great soul free  
From low submission, by which fired into  
A sullen anger, he resolves to mew  
The Royal Eaglet, until freedom grow  
A favour whose fair streams might overflow  
Those barren fields of indesert, in which  
His fortune pines, lest this fair prize enrich  
The cursed soil, and on its surface place  
The long abstracted beams of princely grace.  
She to the narrow confires of a room  
Restrained to let his ruffled thoughts resume  
Their calm composure (counsels throne) he goes  
Aside, and on that doubtful text bestows  
The clearest comment of his judgement, yet  
Falls short of truth, and must contented sit  
To know her there, though not the accident  
Which from her father's glorious Court had sent  
Her so ill guarded; but referring that  
To times discovery, he transported at  
What was a truth confirmed, within the wide  
Arms of his hope, grasps, what aspiring pride  
Or lusts loose empiric, when youths rigrous fire  
Beauty hath kindled, prompts him to desire.  
Yet by two several paths to tread that way  
His crime's dark roads, Lust and Ambition lay,  
The poor Florenza, that long since had been  
The trembling object of the base sin,  
To make his sly access to either free  
From th' others thoughts, must from her Lady be  
In this dark storm removed, he fearing less  
That counsel aiding virtue in distress,  
Though wanting strength the battle to maintain,  
Might countermine the engine of his brain.  
To this sad separation leaving them  
Whom innocence had licenc'd to condemn  
Fortunes harsh discipline, Almanzor goes  
Fates dark enigmas, by the help of those  
That took her to unveil, but 'twas a work  
Too full of subtle mystery, a Turk  
Her brave Defender, by those garments which  
Rash fear had only refled to enrich  
Nice inquisition seemed, by which betrayed  
To dark mistakes, his policy obeyed  
Domestic counsels, and by subtle spies  
Whose ears were more officious than their eyes,  
Soon from the lovesick Ladies close complaints  
His wiser knowledge with their cause acquaints.  
The End of the First Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fourth Book. CANTO II.  
The Argument.  

I.  
From all the hopes of Love and Liberty  
Overwhelmed in the vast Ocean of her grief,  
The wretched Princess is constrained to be  
A Prisoner to her youths first dreadful thief.   

II.  
The cursed Almanzor, in whose dismal Cell  
She comments on the various ●eats of grief  
In every form, till from the tip of Hell,  
When seeming darkest, just Heaven sent relief.   
DIstracted in the agony of Love  
Pharonnida, whose sad complaints did prove  
Her sorrows true Interpreters, had made  
Argalia's name, wrapped up in sighs invade  
The ears of an unseen Informer, whence  
Almanzor's thoughts, delivered from suspense,  
Shake off their doubtful dress of fears, and teach  
Hypocrisy by paths untrod to reach  
The Apex of his hopes. What not the fear  
Of ills, whilst her own interest did appear  
The only sharer, could perform, he now  
Presumes affection to her Friend would bow  
With low submission, if by that she might  
Aid his dim Stars with a reserve of light.  
With frequent visits, which on sins dark Text  
Wrought a fair gloss, Almanzor oft had vexed  
The calmer passions of the Princess in  
To ruffled anger; but when all could win  
No entrance on her favour, fury tries  
A harsher corrosive, stern power denies  
Her even of those poor narrow comforts which  
Her souls dark region, that was only rich  
In sorrows sables, could possess. Withdrew  
Were all those slippery Parasites that knew  
To her no pity, but what did reflect  
The rays o'th' Tyrant's favour, whose neglect  
Taught them the Lesson of disdain, whilst she  
Her practised soul trained in humility.  
Pensive as an unpractised Convert in  
A Bath of tears, she shadowed lies within  
The unfrequented room, a curtain bed  
Her close retreat, till Lights fair Angel fled  
The swarthy Region. But whilst here she lies  
Like a dark lantern that in black disguise  
Circles imprisoned Light—  
Grief from the sullen world concealed to turn  
The troubled stream, as if the silent urn  
Of some dead friend to private sorrow had  
Summoned her thither, entered was a sad  
And sober Matron, in her hands she bore  
A light whose feeble rays could scarce restore  
The sick successor of the day unto  
A cheerful smile. Sad Pilgrims that renew  
Acquaintance with their better Angels by  
Harsh penitence, have of humility  
Less in their looks then she, her habit showed  
Like costly ruins that for fashion owed  
To elder pride, in whose reversion she  
Appeared the noble choice of charity.  
This shadow of religious virtue drawn  
Near her disordered bed, a sickly dawn  
Of light breaks through the Princess clouded eyes  
To meet the welcome object, the disguise  
Of sorrow, which at first appearance sat  
Fixed on her brow, a partner of her fate  
Making her seem; nor was the fancy crushed  
I'th' infancy of faith, fair truth first blushed  
For verbal crimes, near to the bed reposed  
Where the sad Lady lay, she thus disclosed  
Her cause of entrance. Cease (fair stranger) to  
Monopolise a sorrow which, not you  
Here share alone; pity instructed by  
Experience in the rules of misery  
Hath brought me from complaining of my own  
To comfort thine; this Castle once hath known  
Me for its Mistress, though it now behold  
Me (in the dress of poverty grown old)  
Despised and poor, the scorn of those that were  
Nursed into life by my indulgent care.  
This in her tears overflowing language spoke  
Persuades the pensive Princess to revoke  
Depraved opinions doom, confessing she  
Wedded not grief to singularity.  
But comfort in the julip of her words  
Was scarce dissolved, ere a reply affords  
Conceived requital, striving to prevent  
The (oft more forward) thanks. Rise to content,  
Fair soul, she cries, be but so wise to let  
Sick passion die with just neglect, I'll set  
Thy dropped Stars in their orbs again; I have  
(Forced by command) a late attendance gave  
Unto a wounded stranger that remains  
Within this Castle in the heavy chains  
Of cruel bondage, from whose weight unless  
Your Love redeem him, dark forgetfulness  
Will draw the curtains of the grave about  
His dull mortality, and the sick doubt  
Of hope resolve in death, this evening I  
o'er heard his heavy doom, from which to fly  
He hath no refuge but your mercy, which  
Stripped of light passion, must be clothed in rich  
But graver robes of reason, when it sits  
In counsel how to reconcile the fits  
Of feverish love, when being most propense  
To passions heat, a frost of abstinence  
Benumbs it to a Lethargy. In brief,  
'Tis he whose prosperous tyranny the chief  
Command within this castle gave, that in  
His swift destruction doth attempt to win  
Free passage to enjoying you, then prove  
He friend to him that begs you to change love  
For now more useful pity, and so save  
A life that must no longer live to crave,  
If now denied. This Ring (with that presents  
A jewel, that when loves first elements  
The harmony of faith united, she  
Gave to confirm her vows) he sends to be  
A note that he denies what e'er was made  
Authentic, when your mixed vows did invade  
Unwilling Heaven, which in your sufferance shows  
We may intend, but wiser powers dispose.  
Pharonnida, whose fears confirmed did need  
No more to wound a fancy that did bleed  
At all the springs of passion, being by  
The fatal Present taught whose liberty  
Her Love's exchange must purchase, with a sad  
Reverse o'th' eye beholding it, unclad  
Her sorrow thus: And did, oh did this come  
By thy commands, Argalia! no, by some  
Unworthy hand thou'rt robbed of it, I know  
Thou sooner wouldst be tempted to let go  
Relics of thy protecting Saint: Oh, cease  
What e'er you are, to wrong him, the calm peace  
He wears t' encounter death in, cannot be  
Scattered by any storm of fear: would he  
That hath affronted death in every shape  
Of horror, tamely yield unto the rape  
Of is Virgin honour, and not stand the shock  
Of a base Tyrant's anger; but I mock  
My hopes with vain phantasms, 'tis the love  
He bears to me carries his fear above  
The orb of his own noble temper, to  
An unknown world of passions, in whose new  
Regions ambitious grown, it scorns to fall  
Back to its Centre, Reason, whither all  
The lines of action until now did bend  
From's souls circumference; yet know his end  
If doomed unto this cursed place, shall tell  
The bloody Tyrant that my passing bell  
Tolls in his dying groans, and will e'er long  
Ring out in death, if sorrow when grown strong  
As fate, can raise the strokes of grief above  
The strength of nature; which if not, yet love  
Will find a passage where our souls shall rest  
In an eternal union, whilst oppressed  
With horror he, by whose command he dies,  
Falls to th' infernal powers a Sacrifice  
If that your pity were no ficton, to  
Betray my feeble passions, and undo  
The knots of resolution, tell my Friend,  
I live but to die his, and will attend  
Him with my prayers (those verbal angels) till  
His soul's on th' wing, then follow him, and fill  
Those blanks our Fate left in the lines of life  
Up with eternal bliss, where no harsh strife  
Of a dissenting Parent shall destroy  
The blooming springs of our conjugal joy.  
Vexed by this brave display of fortitude  
To sullen anger, with a haste more rude  
Than bold intrusions, lusts sly advocate,  
Forsakes her seat, and though affronts too late  
Came to create a blush, yet passion had  
Her cheeks in red revenges livery clad;  
Her eyes like Saturn's in the house of death,  
Heavy with ills to come, her tainted breath  
Scattering infectious murmurs, with a look  
Oblique and deadly, the cursed Hag forsook  
That ebbon cabinet of grief, and hastes  
To tell Almanzor how his passion wastes  
More spirits in persuasions hectic, then  
If power had quenched ambitions fever when  
'Twas first inflamed with hope, whose cordials prove  
Oft slow as opiates in the heat of love.  
This, with a heat that spoilt digestion, by  
The angry Tyrant heard, rage did untie  
The curls of passion, whose soft trammels had  
Crisped smooth hypocrisy, from which unclad  
Disvelloped nature shows her unfiled dress  
Rough as an angry friend, by no distress  
Of beauty to be calmed, since sly deceit  
Virtue had now unmasked, no candid bait  
Conceals his thoughts, which soon in public shows  
From what black Sea those mists of passion rose.  
Day's sepulchre, the ebbon arched night  
Was raised above the battlements of light;  
The frenzyed world's allaying opiate, sleep,  
Oretaking action, did in silence steep  
The various fruits of labour, and from thence  
Recovers what pays for her times expense.  
In which slow calm, whilst half the drowsy earth  
Lay in the shade of nature, to give birth  
Unto the burden of sick fancy, fear,  
Groans, deep as death's alarms, through her ear  
Fly toward the throne of Reason, to inform  
The pensive Princess, that the last great storm  
Of fate was now descending, beyond which  
Her eyes (o'erwhelmed in sorrow) must enrich  
Their orbs with love no more; but in the dawn  
Of Life behold her Friend's destruction drawn,  
Since threatened danger sad assurance gives  
In those deep groans he now but dying lives.  
More swiftly to destroy the falling leaves  
Of blasted hope, with horror she receives  
By a convey of wearied light, that stroke  
Through rusty grates, intelligence which shaken  
The strength of fortitude, there was a room  
Deep and obscure, where in a heavy gloom  
The unstirred air in such a darkness dwelled  
As masked Egyptians from Heaven's vengeance felt,  
Till by the struggling rays of a faint lamp  
Forced to retreat, and the quicksilver damp  
Shed on the sweaty walls, which hid within  
That glittering vail, worn figures that had been  
The hieroglyphic epitaphs of those  
Which charity did to the earth dispose  
In friendships last of Legacies, except  
What is to cure loose fames diseases kept.  
Here 'mongst the ruins of mortality,  
In blood difigured, she beholds one lie  
Who though disguised in death's approach, appears  
By's habit (that confirmer of her fears)  
Her gentle Love, alone, and helpless in  
The grasp of death, striving in vain to win  
The field from that grim Tyrant, who had now  
Embalmed him in his blood, and did allow  
Him no more spirits, but what in that strife  
Served to groan out the Epilogue of life  
And then depart natures cold stage, to be  
Sucked up from time into eternity.  
When thus the ever lasting silence had  
Locked up his voice, and death's rude hand unclad  
His hover soul, whose elemental dress  
Is left to dust and dark forgetfulness  
When natures lamps being snuffed to death, he lay  
A night-pieced draught of once well-modelled clay;  
With such a silent pace as witches use  
To tread o'er graves when their black arts abuse  
Their cold inhabitants, his murderers were  
Entered the vault, from the stained floor to bear  
The cold stiff coarse, which having softly laid  
In's doom-days bed, unto the royal Maid,  
Whose beauty in this agony defaced  
Griefs emblem sat, with eager speed they haste.  
Either a guilty shame, or fear to be  
Converted by her forms divinity,  
Made them choose darkness for protection, in  
Whose hideous shade, she of herself unseen  
Is hurried thence unto that dreadful place  
Where he entombed lay, whom she must embrace  
In death's dark lodgings, and e'er life was fled  
Remain a sad Companion of the dead,  
Confining beauty in youth's glorious bloom  
To the black prison of a dismal tomb,  
Where fast enclosed, Earth's fairest blossom must  
Unnaturally be planted in the dust,  
Where life's bright Star, heavens glorious influence,  
Her soul in labour with the slow suspense  
Of lingering torments must expecting lie  
Till famine Nature's ligatures untie.  
And can, oh, can we ever hope to save  
Her that's in life a Tenant to the Grave!  
Can aught redeem one that already lies  
Within the Bed of Death, whose hot lust fries  
In the enjoyment of all beauties that  
The aged World e'er had to wonder at;  
To feed whose riot, the well tempered blood,  
That sanguine youth's smooth cheek, mixed with a flood  
Of harsh distemperatures, overflows and brings  
Some to their lodgings on the flaming wings  
Of speedy fevers, whilst the others creep  
On slow consumptions, millions from the steep  
And dangerous precipice of war: Some in  
A stream of their own humours that have been  
Swelled to a dropsy, being even pressed to death  
By their own weight, whilst others part with breath  
From bodies worn so thin, they seemed to be  
Grown near the souls invisibility.  
But whither strays our fancy? have we left  
The woeful Lady in a tomb bereft  
Of all society, and shall I let  
My wand'ring pen forsake her? such a debt  
Would bankrupt pity. Th' undistinguished day  
Whose newborn light did but even then display  
Its dewy wings, when first she was confined  
To the dark tomb, was now grown almost blind  
With age, when thus through fates black curtin broke  
Unlooked for light, that darkness which did choke  
All passages by which the thin air held  
Commerce with neigboring rooms, being now expelled  
By the dim tapers glimmering beams let fall  
Part of the rays through an old ruin'd wall  
That fenced an ugly dungeon, where the night  
Dwelled safe as in the Centre; by the fight  
Of which unlooked for guest some prisoners who  
Had there been stayed, even till despairing to  
Be ere released, in eager fury tries  
To force their way, where their directing eyes  
Led by the light should guide them, come at length,  
Where with times burden tired the buildings strength  
Losing its first firm union was divorced  
With gaping clefts, an easy strength enforced  
Those feeble guards; but come into the room  
Where o'er the living Ladies sable tomb  
Hung the directing light, they there in vain  
For further passage seeking, were again  
To the black dungeon, horrors dismal seat,  
In sad despair making their slow retreat.  
Now near departing, a deep doleful groan  
Reversed their eyes, amazement almost grown  
To stupefaction stays them, whilst they hear  
New sighs confirm their wonder, not their fear;  
Till thus Euriolus, whose bold look spoke  
The braver soul, the dismal silence broke.  
What ere thou art that hoverest here within  
This gloomy shadow, speak what wrong hath been  
Thy troubled Ghost's tormenter, art thou fled  
From woe to stir the dust o'th' peaceful dead?  
Or comest from sacred shadows to lament  
Some friends dead coarse, which this dark Tenement  
Hath lodged in dust. The trembling Lady hearing  
A humane voice again, and now not fearing  
Th' approaches of a greater danger, cries,  
What ere you are, fear mo●ks your faith, here lies  
A woeful wretch entombed alive, that ne'er  
Must look on light again, my spirit were  
Blest if resolved to air, but here it must  
A sad companion in the silent dust  
To Loathed corruption be, until the pale  
Approaching Fiend, harsh famine, shall exhale  
In dews of blood the purple moisture, that  
Fed life's fresh springs; but now shall tremble at  
My doleful story, 'tis enough that fate  
Hath for this tomb exchanged a throne of state.  
To active pity stirred, the valiant friends  
Attempt her rescue, but their labour ends  
In fruitless toils, the ponderous marble lies  
With too much weight to let the weak supplies  
Of humane strength removed, which whilst they tried  
To weary sweats, kind fortune lends this guide  
To their masked virtue; the informing ear  
Proclaims approaching steps, which ushered fear  
Into Ismander's breast; but his brave friend  
(The bold Euriolus) resolved to end  
By death or victory their bondage, goes  
Near to the gate, where soon were entered those  
Which in Pharonnida's restraint had been  
The active engines of that hateful sin,  
With them, that Hag whose cursed invention had  
Revenge in such an uncouth dressing clad.  
Whilst her Ismander seized, and with a charm  
Of nimble strength commands the active arm  
Of fierce Euriolus, directed by  
Victorious valour purchased liberty  
By strokes whose weight to dark destruction sunk  
His worthless foes, and sent their pale souls drunk  
With innocent blood staggering from earth, to be  
Masked in the deserts of eternity.  
This being beheld by her whose hopes of life  
With them departed, she concludes the strife  
Of inquisition by directing to  
An engine which but touched would soon undo  
That knot which puzzled all their strength, and give  
The captive Princess hopes again to live  
Within the reach of light, whose beams whilst she  
Unfolds her eyes (those dazzled stars) to see,  
Dark misty wonder in a cloud o'erspread  
His faith that raised her from that gloomy bed:  
Amazed Euriolus, whose zeal-guided eyes  
Soon knows the Princess through griefs dark disguise,  
Could his inflamed devotion into one  
Great blast of praises be made up, 't'had gone  
Toward heavenly bowers on the expanded wings  
Of his exalted joy, nor are the springs  
Of life less raised with wonder in the breast  
Of's royal Mistress, whose free soul expressed  
As much of joy as in her clouded fate  
With reason at the helm of action sat.  
Here had they masked in mutual wonder stayed  
T'unriddle fate, had not wise Fear obeyed  
Reason's grave dictates, and with eager speed  
Urge their departure, for whose guide they need  
No more but her directions, who then lay  
Taught by the fear of vengeance to obey  
Their just demands, by whom informed of all  
That might within the Castle's circuit fall  
With weights of danger, and taught how to free  
Confined Florenza, to meet liberty,  
They march in triumph, leaving none to take  
Possession there, but her whose guilt would make  
The torment just, though there constrained to dwell  
Till death prepared her for a larger hell.  
Whilst sleeps guards doubled by intemprance reigned  
Within the walls, with happy speed they gained  
The Castles utmost ward, and furnished there  
With such choice horses as provided were  
For th'Outlaws next days scouts; A glad adieu  
Of their loathed jail they take: Ismander knew  
Each obscure way that in their secret flight  
Might safety promise; so that sullen night  
Could not obstruct their passage, though through ways  
So full of dark meanders, not the days  
Light could assist a stranger, ere the dawn  
O'th' wakeful morn had spread her vails of lawn  
o'er the fair Virgins of the Spring, there past  
That sylvan labyrinth, and with that had cast  
Their greatest terror off, and taught their eyes  
The welcome joys of liberty to prize.  
And now the spangled squadrons of the night  
Encountering beams had lost the field to light,  
The morning proud in beauty grown, whilst they  
With cheerful speed passed on the levelled way  
By solitude secure, of all unseen  
Save early Laborers that resided in  
Dispersed poor cottages, by whom they're viewed  
With humble reverence, such as did delude  
Sharp-eyed suspicion, they are now drawn near  
Ismanders' palace, whose fair towers appear  
Above the groves, whose green enamel lent  
The neighbouring hills their prospects ornament.  
A River whose unwearied bounty brings  
The hourly tribute of a thousand Springs  
From several fragrant valleys here, as grown  
So rich, she now strove to preserve her own  
Streams from the all-devouring Sea, did glide  
Betwixt two hills which nature did divide  
To entertain the smiling Nymph, till to  
An entrance where her silver-eye did view  
A wealthy vale she come, a vale in which  
All fruitful pleasures did content enrich;  
Where all so much deserved the name of best,  
E●ch took a part seemed to excel the rest.  
Rounded with spacious meads, here scattered stood  
Fair Country-farms, whose happy neighbourhood,  
Though not so near as justling Palaces  
Which trouble Cities, yet had more to please  
By a community of goodness in  
That separation. Nature's hand had been  
To all too liberal, to let any want  
The treasures of a free inhabitant,  
Each in his own unracked inheritance  
Where born expired, not striving to advance  
Their levelled fortunes to a loftier pitch  
Than what first styled them honest, after rich;  
Sober and sweet their lives, in all things blest  
Which harmless Nature living unopprest  
With surfeits did require: Their own Flocks bred  
Their homespun garments, and on that they fed  
Which from their Fields or Dairies plenteous store  
Had fresh supplies: what fortune lent them more  
Than an indifferent mean, was sent to be  
The harbingers of hospitality.  
Fair Virgins in their youths fresh April dressed,  
Courted by amorous Swains, were unopprest  
By dark suspicion, Ages sullen spies,  
Whose spleen would have the envious counted wise.  
Love was religious here, and for to awe  
Their wilder passions, conscience was their law.  
More to complete this rural happiness,  
They were protected from the harsh distress  
Of long-winged power by the blessed neighbourhood  
Of brave Ismander, whose known greatness stood  
Not to eclipse their humble states, although  
It shadowed them when injured power did grow  
To persecution, by which means he proved  
Not feared for greatness, but for goodness loved.  
Which gentle passion his unhappy loss  
Had soured to grief, and made their joy their cross.  
But now their antidote approaches, he  
From heavy bondage is returned to be  
Their joyful wonder, at his Palace gate  
Being now arrived, his Palace that of late  
With's absence dimmed in her most beauteous age  
Stood more neglected than a Hermitage  
Or sacred buildings, when the sinful times  
To persecution aggravate their crimes.  
But being entered, sadder objects took  
Those outside wonders off, each servants look  
Spoke him a sullen mourner, grave and sad,  
Their sober carriage, in no liveries clad  
But doleful sable, all their acts like those  
Of weeping wives, when they to th' grave dispose  
Their youthful husbands; yet all these were but  
Imperfect shadows of a sorrow, put  
In distant landscape, when to trial brought  
Near his fair Ammida's, whose grief had sought  
As dark a region for her sad retreat  
As desperate grief ere made pale sorrows seat  
In sacred temples the neglected lamp  
So wastes its oil, when Heresies do cramp  
Religions beams, with such a heavy look  
Monarches deposed behold themselves forsaken  
By those that flattered greatness, shut from all  
Those glorious objects of the world that call  
Our souls in admiration forth, her time  
Being spent in grief, made life but Nature's crime.  
The rough disguise of time assisted by  
The meager gripe of harsh captivity,  
Had now expunged those characters by which  
Ismander once was known, and even the rich  
In love and duty rendered strangers to  
Their honoured Master, from whose serious view  
Neglective grief withdraws them, so that he  
An unknown Pilgrim might have gone to be  
Theirs and his own afflictor, had that fear  
Not thus been cured▪ A Spaniel being of dear  
Esteem to Ammida, since the delight  
Of her Ismander once, come to the sight  
Of's first protector, stays not till a call  
Invites acquaintance, but preventing all  
The guides of reason by the sleights of sense,  
Fawning on's Master, checks th' intelligence  
Of's more forgetful followers, which being seen  
By an old servant, whose firm youth had been  
Spun out amongst that family, till by  
Grave age surprised, it led his sober eye  
To stricter observations, such as brought  
Him near to truth, and on contracted thought  
Raised a belief, which though it durst conclude  
Nought on the dark text; yet i'th' magnitude  
Of hope exalted by his joy he hastes  
To's mourning Mistress, tells her that she wastes  
Each minute more she spends in grief, if he  
Dares trust his eyes t'inform his memory.  
Contracted spirits starting from the heart  
Of doubtful Ammida, to every part  
Post through the troubled blood, a combat fought  
Betwixt pale fear and sanguine hope, had oft  
Won and lost battles in her cheeks, whilst she  
Leaving her sullen train, did haste to see  
Those new come guests: But the first interview  
Unmasks Ismander, winged with love she flew  
To his embraces; 'twas no faint disguise  
Of a course habit could betray those eyes  
Into mistakes, that for directors had  
Loves powerful optics, Nuptial joys unclad  
In all their naked beauties, no delight  
So full of pleasure, the first active night  
Being but a busy and laborious dream  
Compared with this, this, that had swelled the stream  
Of joy to fainting surfeits, whose hot strife  
Had overflowed the crimson-sea of life,  
If not restrained by a desire to keep  
What each had lost in the eternal sleep.  
But now broke through the epileptic mist  
Of amorous rapture, rallied spirits twist  
Again their optic cordage, whose mixed beams  
Now separate, and on collateral streams  
Dispersed expressions of affection bore  
To each congratulating friend that wore  
Not out those favours with neglect, but by  
A speedy, though unpractick sympathy  
Met their full tide of bliss; glad fame which brings  
Truth's messages upon her silver-wings,  
In private whisper hovers for a while  
Within the palace, every servants smile  
Invites a new spectator, who from thence  
(Proud to be author of intelligence  
So welcome) hastes till knowledge ranged through all  
Diffusive joy made epidemical:  
For though that noble family alone  
Afforded pleasure a triumphant throne,  
Yet frolic mirth did find a residence  
In every neighbour's bosom; they dispense  
With their allegiance to their labour, and  
Revel in lusty cups, the brown bowls stand  
With Amber-liquor filled, whose fruitful tears  
Dropped loved Ismander's health, till it appears  
In sanguine tincture on their cheeks: All now  
Had, if not calmed their passions, smoothed a brow  
To temporize with pleasure. The sad story  
Of his own fortune, and that Age's glory,  
Pharonnida, whilst each attentive dwells  
On expectation, brave Ismander tells.  
The End of the Second Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fourth Book. CANTO III.  
The Argument.  

I.  
From the sad consort of her silent grief  
The Princess doth with pleasing wonder hear  
Poor Vanlore's fate, and the unjust relief  
Which his unworthy Father freed from fear.   

II.  
Whose hell-deep plots the dregs of avarice  
Had so defiled, that whilst he seeks for aid,  
His subtlety masked on the road of vice,  
By his presumed Assistant is betrayed.   
COmposing time did now begin to slack  
The rain of mirth; exalted Joy shrunk back  
From Pleasure's summer-solstice, and gave way  
For more domestic passions to obey  
An Oeconomick government, which brought  
Loose fancy on the wings of serious thought  
Back to her sober home, in that to find  
Those several burdens that were left behind  
In the carrier of mirth, amongst which number  
Pharonnida that had let sorrow slumber  
In the high room of joy, awakes again  
That clamorous elf, which she must entertain  
At Beauty's cost: Yet in this dark retreat  
From Pleasure's throne to Sorrows dismal seat  
She finds a sweet Copanion, one that had  
By fatal love opposed, with loss unclad  
Delight of all his summer-robes, to dress  
Her trembling soul in sables of distress.  
The sad Silvandra (for surviving fame  
Hath on record so charactered her name)  
Being sister to returned Ismander, in  
This flourish of triumphant joy had been  
So much eclipsed with grief, that oft her tears  
Dimmed Beauties rays, whilst through them she appears  
A fit Companion for the Princess to  
Twist those discourses with, whose mourning clue  
Led through the labyrinth of their lives. They oft  
In shades as secret as their closest thought  
With pensive paces meeting, sit and tell  
Stories so sad, that nought could parallel  
But Love, and Loss, a theme they both had been  
By rigid power made hapless Students in.  
One eye-bright morning tempting them to take  
The start of time, soon as the Lark did wake,  
Summons them from the Palace to the side  
Of a small Wood, whose bushy crest the pride  
Of all the flowery plains, they chose to be  
'Gainst the invading sun their canopy.  
Reposed beneath a fullgrown tree that spread  
His trembling arms to shade their fragrant bed,  
They now are sat, where for a while they view  
The distant vale, whilst contemplation grew  
Pregnant with wonder, whose next prosperous birth  
Had been delight, had they not sent their mirth  
In sad exchange, whilst tears did usher in  
Silvandra's fate, who, weeping, did begin  
With such a look as did command belief,  
The late-past story of a present grief.  
In yonder fields (with that directs her eye  
To a black Fen, whose heavy earth did lie  
Low in a dark and dirty vale) is placed  
Amarus Castle, which though now defaced  
More by the owner's covetous neglect  
Then times rough strokes, that strength which did protect  
Once its inhabitants, being now but made  
Use of when want doth with weak prayers invade  
The gates, being thought sufficient if they keep  
The poor at bay, or whilst his stiff hinds sleep  
Their labouring beasts secure. But I alas  
Blush to discover that this Miser was  
Father to my dead Vanlore, and to her  
Whose living virtues kind heaven did confer  
As blessings on my brother; but the sun  
Ne'er saw two sweeter streams of virtue run  
From such a bitter fountain. This accursed  
And wretched man, so hated, that he durst  
Scarce look abroad, fearing oppression would  
Be paid with vengeance, if he ever should  
Fall into th' hand's of those whose faces he  
Ground with extortion, till the injury  
Fear clothed like justice, venturing once to view  
A Manor whose intemperate Lord out-grew  
In debts the compass of a Bond, besides  
His common guard of Clowns, fellows whose hides  
Served for defensive armour, he commands  
His son's attendance, who since from his hands  
Racked Tenants hoped for ease, he thought that they  
Would for that hope with reverend duty pay.  
But vain mistakes betray opinion to  
A fatal precipice, which they might view  
I'th' objects of each glance; one side affords  
Large plains, whose flock's, the wealth of several lords  
By him contracted, but the spoils appears  
Of beggared Orphans, pickled in their tears;  
Farms for whose loss poor widows wept, and fields  
Which being confined to strict enclosure, yields  
To his crammed chests the starving poor man's food,  
For private ends robbing their public good,  
With guilt enclosed those ways which now ha●● brought  
Him by some cottages who honours bought  
Poor livelihoods at a laborious rate  
From his racked lands, for which pursuing hate  
Now follows him in curses; for in that  
They yet take vengeance, till arriving at  
The thicker peopled Villages, where more bold  
By number made, the fire of hate takes hold  
On clamorous women, whose vexed husbands thirst  
I'th' fever of revenge, to these when first  
They kindled had the flame, swiftly succeeds  
More active men, such, as resolved their deeds  
(Spite of restrictive law) should set them free  
From the oppressor of their liberty.  
His son (the noble Vanlore) to appease  
The dangerous fury of this rash disease,  
Spends all his stock of Rhetoric, but in  
Fruitless attempts. His rustic guard had been  
At the first onset scattered, and were now  
Posting for safety, whilst his son, taught how  
By frequent injuries to entertain  
Angers unusual guests, shows it in vain,  
Though brave attempts of valour, by whose high  
Unhappy flame, whilst circling foes did die  
Unworthy hecatombs for him, at length  
Engaged him had beyond the power of strength,  
Though backed by fortune to redeem; which when  
Beheld by those whose characters of men  
In rage was lost, they wildly persecute  
Revenge, till life, nature's hurmonious fruit,  
Was blasted to untimely death. And here  
Her fatal story in its full carrier,  
The memory of him, who died to be  
The people's curse, and crime of destiny  
Grief did obstruct, whilst liquid passion feeds  
Her crystal springs, which stopped, she thus proceeds,  
His brave defender now retreating to  
The road of death, whilst he did vainly sue  
For undeserved remorse, Amarus lies  
Their fury's object, in whose wild disguise  
Whilst giddy clouds of dark amazement dwell,  
o'er his dim eyes th' exalted tumult fell  
In a black storm of danger, in whose shade  
They drag him thence, that fury being made  
Wise by delays, might study torments great  
As was their rage; but in their wild retreat  
They thus are stopped: A wand'ring Knight that near  
The place approached, directed by his ear  
How to inform his eye, arrives to see  
The wretched trophies of this victory,  
A dying son, whose latest beams of light  
Through deaths dim optics bids the world good-night,  
With looks that did so black a sorrow limb  
He frowned on earth, though heaven did smile on him  
Hurried from thence by unrelenting hate,  
A living father of more woeful fate.  
Pity (that brave allay of manly heat)  
Persuades the noble stranger to entreat  
A parley with rage, which being denied he then  
Attempts to force; and since their ablest men  
Were wounded in the former conflict, soon  
Successful proves, like mists i'th' pride of noon  
Being huddled into hurtless clouds they fly  
Before his fury, till from reach o'th' eye  
Shrunk to the woods protection, where whilst each  
With such a fear as sanguine guilt did teach  
The world's first murderer, seeks for safety, he  
Retreating leaves the scattered herd to be  
Their own afflictors, and hastes thence to find  
Him to whom fortune proved so strangely kind  
In his approach, as by his sword to be  
When hope lost anchor, blest with liberty.  
Come to the place where old Amarus lay  
With fear so startled, that he durst betray  
Life through no motion, yet he's followed by  
That train of Cowards, which though they did fly  
The danger, when they saw their foes pursued  
On the reward, (the victory) intrude,  
Whose easy spoils (those invitations to  
A Cowards daring) such a distance drew  
Them from their homes, that they with labour were  
Recalled from rifling enemies to bear  
Their feeble Masters off, Amarus living  
As weak with fear as Vanlore was with dying.  
Before the black obstructions of the night  
Did interpose, they were arrived i'th' sight  
O'th' Castles ruined walls, a place whose hue,  
Uncouth and wild, banished delight into  
Uncomely profit, and at distance gives  
A sad assurance that its honour lives  
By men so hated, and by heaven unblessed,  
As he enjoyed not what he there possessed.  
Come to the front o'th' house, whose dirt forbid  
A cleanly entrance, he sees pavements hid  
With heaps of rubbish, times slow hand let fall  
From the neglected ruins of the wall,  
Green Arbours, pleasant Groves, all which were now  
Swiftly dismantling to make way for th' plough;  
Only his Barns, preservers of that store  
Detained with curses from the pining poor,  
Their upper garments of warm thatch did wear  
So thick to keep them dry, whilst thin and bare  
Even his own lodging stood; the Hall first built  
To have that wealth, which he in sparing spilt,  
Spent there in hospitality, ne'er by  
More heat warmed then a candle gave, did lie  
Moulded with lazy damps, the wall oregrown  
With moss and weeds, unhaunted, and alone  
The empty tables stood, for never Guess  
Come there, except thin Bankrupts whom distress  
Spurred on with sharp necessity to crave  
Forbearing months, which he, when bribed forgave.  
Hence (by a rude domestic led) he goes  
To view the cellar, where like distant foes  
Or buildings in a new Plantation stand  
The distant Barrels, yet from all command  
But his own keys exempted. To bestow  
A welcome on him, which he ne'er did show  
To man before; led by a rusty slave,  
Whose iron limbs rattling in leather gave  
Alarms to the half-starved Rats; he here  
Is by Amarus visited, whose fear  
That place should too much suffer, soon from thence  
Sounds a retreat to supper, where th'expense  
Became a Usurer's purse: yet what was by  
Sparing defective, neatness did supply:  
A virtue where repining penury  
Prepares, unusual; but he soon did see  
Whence it proceeds, the sad sweet Ammida  
Whom shame and grief attempted to withdraw  
From public view, was by her fathers call  
To crown that entertainment brought, whose all  
Was else so bad, it the first visit might  
Repent make, not to the next invite.  
Here, with afflicted patience, he had spent  
Some few, but tedious days, whose slow extent  
Behind his wishes flagged, ere he had seen  
Vanlore interred, whose obsequies had been  
In secret huddled up, but then prepares  
To take his leave, when adverse fate that shares  
Double with man's intentions, in the tart  
Of's full resolves opposing, claims her part  
By harsh command, a dangerous Fever that  
Threatened destruction ere arriving at  
Its distant crisis, and on flaming wings  
Posts through the blood, whose mass infected brings  
Death's banners near the Fort of life, which in  
Acute distempers it attempts to win  
From Nature's guards, had not the hot assault  
By youth sustained made deaths black army halt  
Whilst marching to the grave, the swift disease  
Like a proud foe repulsed, forced to give ease  
By slow retreats; yet of those cruel wars  
Left long remaining bloodless characters.  
But ere the weak Euriolus (for he  
This hapless stranger was) again could be  
By strength supported, base Amarus, who  
Could think no more than priceless thanks was due  
For all his dangerous pains, more beastly rude  
Then untamed Indians, basely did exclude  
That noble guest; which being with sorrow seen  
By Ammida, whose prayers and tears had been  
His helpless advocates, she gives in charge  
To her Ismander, that till time enlarge  
Her then restrained desires, he entertain  
Her desolate and wand'ring friend: Nor vain  
Were these commands, his entertainment being  
Such as observant Love thought best agreeing  
To her desires. But here not long he stayed  
E'er Fortune, prompted by his wit, obeyed  
That artful Mistress, and reward obtains  
By fine imposture for firm virtues pains.  
The gout (that common curse of slothful wealth)  
With frequent pain had long impaired the health  
Of old Amarus, who, though else to all  
Griping as that, for ease was liberal.  
From practised physic, to the patient's curse,  
Poor prattling women, or impostors worse  
Sly Mountebanks, whose empty impudence  
Do frequent murders under healths pretence,  
He all had tried, yet found he must endure  
What though some eased, none perfectly could cure.  
Oft had his judgement, purse, and patience been  
Abused by cheats, yet still defective in  
The choice of men: which error known unto  
My brother and Euriolus, they drew  
Their platform thus: Euriolus clad in  
An antic dress, which showed as he had been  
Physician to the great mogul, first by  
Ismander praised at distance, doth apply  
Himself unto Amarus, where t'●inhance  
The price of's art, he first applauds the chance  
That had from distant Regions thither brought  
Him to eclipse their glory, who had sought  
For't in his cure before, then seconds that  
With larger promises; which tickled at  
Amarus vies with his, threatening to break  
His iron chests, and make those idols speak  
His gratitude, though locked with conscience they  
To his own clamorous wants had silent lay.  
Some common medicines, which the people prise  
'Cause from their knowledge veiled in slight disguise,  
Applied to's pain, and those assisted by  
Opinion, whose best antidotes supply  
The weak defects of art, he soon attains  
So much of health, that now his greatest pains  
Had been th' engaged reward, had he not been  
By future hopes kept from ingrateful sin  
So far, that in performing action he  
Exceeds his passion's prodigality,  
Large promises, with such performance, that  
Whilst his deluders smile, and wonder at,  
Thus speaks its dark orginal; To show  
Euriolus how fortune did out-grow  
Desert in his estate, he was one day  
From th' Castle walls taking a pleased survey,  
Of spacious fields, whose soils made fertile by  
Luxurious art, in rich variety  
Still youthful nature clothed, which whilst he views  
An old suspicion thus his tongue renews.  
How blest, my worthy friend, how blessed had I  
Been in my youths laborious industry  
T' have seen a son possessed of this! but now  
A daughter's match, a stranger must endow  
With what I've toiled to get, and what is more  
My torment, one that being betrothed before  
My son's decease, wants an estate to make  
Her marriage blest; but knew I how to shake  
This Swagg'rer off, there lives not far from hence  
One that to match her to were worth th' expense  
Of my estate, his name is Dargonel,  
A wary Lad, who though his land do swell  
Each day with new additions, yet still lives  
Sparing and close, takes heed to whom he gives  
Or whom he lends, except on mortgage, by  
Whose strength it may securely multiply.  
This worthy Gentleman, with wise foresight  
Beholding what an object of delight  
Our linked estates would be, hath since I lost  
My heir, been in's intention only crossed  
By this Ismander, whom, though I confess  
A braver man, yet since a fortune less,  
Ne'er must have my consent; only since by  
Her contract I have lost the liberty  
Of second choice, unless I vainly draw  
Myself in danger o'th' o'erbusy Law,  
I want some sound advice that might inform  
Me how to rid him, yet not stand a storm  
Broke from his rage, although my daughter love  
Him more than health, I shall command above  
Her feeble passions, if you dare impart  
So much of aid from your almighty art  
As to remove this remora; and here  
He stopped, yet lets a silent guilt appear  
In looks that showed what else the theme affords  
He'd have conceived, as being too foul for words.  
Which seen by him whose active wit gr●w strong  
In friendship's cause, as loath to torture long  
His expectations, thus their stream he stays  
With what at once both comforts and betrays.  
Raise up your spirits, my blessed Patron, to  
Sublime content, Heaven sent me to renew  
Your souls harmonious peace; that dreadful toy  
Of conscience wisely waved, you may enjoy  
Uninterrupted hopes: yet since we must  
Be still most wary where we're most unjust,  
Le's not be rash; swift things are oft unsure,  
Whilst moles through death's dark angles creep secure.  
Then since it's full of danger to remove  
Betrothed Ismander, whilst his public love  
By your consent raised to assurance, may  
A granted interest claim; first let us stay  
His fury, and the people's censures by  
A nuptial knot, whose links we will untie  
E'er the first night confirms the hallowed band,  
By ways so secret, that death's skilful hand  
Shall work unknown to fate, and render you  
To the deluded worlds more public view  
A real mourner, whilst your curtained thought  
Triumphs to be from strict engagements brought.  
Besides the vailing of our dark design  
Like virtue thus, this plot will sink a Mine  
Whose wealthy womb in ample jointure will  
Bring much of dead Ismanders state to fill  
The vast desire of wealth. This being done,  
I with prevailing philters will outrun  
Sorrows black Bark, which whilst it lies at drift,  
I'll so renew her mirth, no sigh shall lift  
Its heavy sails, which in a calm neglect  
Shall lie forgot; whilst what's not now respect  
To Dargonel, shall soon grow up to be  
Like Nature's undiscovered sympathy,  
A love so swift, so secret, all shall pause  
At its effects, whilst they admire the cause.  
This by Amarus, with belief▪ which grew  
Into applause, heard ou●, he doth renew  
With large additions what h'had promised in  
His first attempts: Then hasting to begin  
The tragic scene which must in triumph be  
Ushered to light, his known deformity  
Of wretched baseness for a while he lays  
Aside, and by a liberal mirth betrays  
Approaching joy, which since incited by  
His wishes, soon lifts Hymen's torches high  
As their exalted hopes. The happy Pair  
Dear to indulgent heaven, with Omens fair  
As were their youthful Paranymphs, had been  
I'th' hallowed Temple taught without a sin  
To taste the fruits of Paradise; and now  
The time when tedious custom did allow  
A wished retirement, come, preparing are  
To beautify their beds, whence that bright star  
Whose evenings blush did please the gazer's eyes,  
Eclipsed in sorrow is ordained to rise.  
But such whose superficial vail oppressed  
Only her friends, whose knowledge were not blest  
With the design which to our proscript Lovers  
Euriolus with timely zeal discovers.  
The morning opens, and the wakened Bride  
By light and friends surprised, attempts to hide  
Her bashful beauty, till their hands withdrew  
The curtains, which betrayed unto their view  
Ismander cold and stiff: which horrid sight  
Met where they looked for objects of delight,  
At first a silent sad amazement spread  
Through all the room, till Fears pale army fled  
In sad assurance, Sorrows next hot charge  
Began in shrieks, whose terror did enlarge  
Infectious grief, till like an ugly cloud  
That cramps the beauties of the day, grown proud  
In her black empire, Hymen's tapors she  
Changes to funeral brands, and from that tree  
That shadows graves, pulls branches, which being wet  
In tears, are where Loves myrtles flourished set.  
Their nuptial himns thus turned to dirges, all  
In sad exchange let cloudy sable fall  
o'er pleasures purple-robes, whilst from that bed  
Whence Love oppressed, seemed to their sorrow fled  
To death for refuge, sadly they attend  
To th' last of homes, his tomb, their sleeping friend,  
Who there with all the hallowed rights that do  
Betray surviving friendship, left unto  
Darkness and dust, they thence with sober pace  
Return, whilst shrouded near that dismal place  
Euriolus conceals himself, that so  
When sleep, whose soft excess is nature's foe,  
Hath spent her stupefactive opiates, he  
Might ready to his friend's assistance be.  
And now that minute come, which to comply  
With Arts sure rules, gives Nature leave t'untie  
Sleeps powerful ligatures, his Pulses beat  
The Floods revelly, from whose dark retreat  
The spirits thronging in their active flight,  
His friend h'encounters with the early light;  
By whose assistance whilst the quiet earth  
Yet slept in nights black arms, before the birth  
O'th' morn, whose busy childhood might betray  
Their close design, Ismander takes his way  
Toward a distant friends, whose house he knew  
To be as secret as his love was true.  
There whilst concealed even from suspicion, he  
In safety rests, Euriolus, to free  
Her fears fair Captive, Ammida, hastes back  
To old Amarus, who too rash to slack  
Sorrows black cordage by degrees that might  
Weaken mistrust, le's mirth taken open flight  
Into suspected action, whilst he gives  
To Dargonel, who now his Darling lives,  
So free a welcome, that he in't might read  
If love could not for swift succession plead,  
Power should command; yet waves the exercise  
Of either, till his Empirics skill he tries:  
Who now returned, ere Dargonel that lay  
Slow to attempt, since certain to betray,  
Had more than faced at distance, he pretends  
To close attempts of art, whose wished for ends  
E'er their expecting faith had time to fear,  
In acts which raised their wonder did appear.  
Love, which by judgement ruled, had made desert  
In her first choice the Climax to her heart,  
By which it slowly moved, now; as if swayed  
●y heedless passion, seems to have betrayed  
At one rash glance her heart, which now begins  
To break through Passions bashful cherubins,  
Spreading without a modest blush the light  
Of morning-beauty o'er that hideous night  
Of all those dull deformities that dwell  
Like earth's black damps o'er cloudy Dargonel,  
Who being become an Antique in the Mask  
Of playful Love, grows proud, and scorns to ask  
Advice from sober thought, but lets conceit  
Persuade him how his worth had spread that bait  
Which sly Amarus who presumed to know  
From whence that torrent of her Love did flow,  
With a just doubt suspecting, strives to make  
His thoughts secure, ere Reason did o'ertake  
Passions enforced carrier; Nor did his plot  
Want an indulgent hope, like dreams, forgot  
In the delights of day, his daughter shook  
Off Griefs black dress, and in a cheerful look  
Promised approaching love, no more disguised  
Then served to show strict virtue how she prized  
Her only in applause, whose harmony  
Still to preserve, she is resolved to be,  
If secret silence might with action dwell,  
Swift as his wish espoused to Dargonel.  
More joyed then fettered Captives in the year  
Of Jubilee, Amarus did appear  
Proud with delight, in whose warm shine when's haste  
Had with officious diligence embraced  
Euriolus, he waving all delays,  
To Dargonel the welcome news conveys;  
Who soon prepared for what so long had been  
His hopes delight, to meet those joys within  
The sacred temple hastes: The place they chose  
For Hymen's Court, lest treacherous eyes disclose  
The Bride's just blushes, was a Chapel where  
Devotion, when but a domestic care,  
Was by his household practised; for the time  
'Twas ere the morn blushed to detect a crime.  
All thus prepared, the Priest conducting, they  
With sober pace, which gently might convey  
Diseased Amarus in his chair, they to  
The Chapel haste, which now come near, as through  
Th' ancient room they pass, a sad deep groan  
Assaults their ears, which whilst with wonder grown  
Into disease they entertain, appears  
A sad confirmer of their doubtful fears;  
Ismander whom but late before they had  
Followed to th' grave, his lively beauty clad  
I'th' upper garments of pale death: which sight  
The train avoiding by their speedy flight  
Except the willing Bride, behind leave none  
But lame Amarus, who, his chair o'erthrown  
By his affrighted bearers, there must lie  
Exposed to fear, which when attempts to fly,  
Through often struggling proved his labour vain,  
He grovelling lies unseen to entertain.  
Thus far successful blessed Ismander thence  
Conveys his lovely Bride, whilst the expense  
Of time being all laid out on fear, by none  
He was observed; Amarus long alone  
Lying tormented with his passions, ere  
His frighted servants durst return to bear  
Their fainting Master of; but being at length,  
When greater numbers had confirmed the strength  
Of fortitude, grown bold, entering again  
The room, which yet fear told them did retain  
The scent of brimstone, there they only found  
Their trembling master, tumbling on the ground.  
Horror, augmented by internal guilt  
Had in his conscience trepidations spilt:  
Both prayers and tears, which since heaven's law they crossed  
For humane passions in despair were lost;  
Obscured in whose black mists, not daring to  
Unclose his eyes, fearing again the view  
Of that affrighting aparition, he  
Is hurried from that dreadful place, to be  
Their mirth, whom he (for fiends mistaking) cries  
For mercy to, scarce trusting of his eyes,  
When they unfolded had, discovered none  
But such whom long he'd for domestics known.  
Yet to torment him more, before these fears  
Wholly forsake him, in his room appears  
Some officers, whose power made dreadful by  
The dictates of supreme authority  
As guilty of Ismander's death, arrest  
Him for his murderer, by which change oppressed  
More than before with fear, he, who now thought  
On nought but death, to a tribunal brought,  
Ere asked confesses that foul crime, for which  
He this just doom receives; since to enrich  
What had before wealth's surfeit took, this sin  
Was chiefly acted, his estate, fallen in  
To th' hands of justice, by the judge should be  
From hence disposed of, then from death to free  
His life, already forfeited, except  
Murdered Ismander, whom he thought had slept  
In's winding sheet, his hopeless Advocate  
Should there appear, in which unhappy state  
The wretch, now ready to depart, beholds  
This glorious change; Ismander first unfolds  
Himself, and her, who bound by nature's laws,  
Implores his pardon ere they plead his cause,  
Which done, the Judge, that his lost wealth might be  
No cause of grief, unmasking, lets him see  
Euriolus, by whom, from th' worst of sin  
To liberal virtue he'd deluded been.  
The End of the Third Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fourth Book. CANTO IU.  
The Argument.  

I.  
Whilst we a while the pensive Lady ●eave  
Here a close Mourner for her rigid fate,  
Let's from the dark records of time receive  
The manner how Argalia waved the hate   

II.  
Of his malignant stars, which when they seem  
To threaten most, through that dark cloud did lead  
Him to a knowledge of such dear esteem,  
He his high birth did there distinctly read.   
FReed from the noise o'th' busy world, within  
A deep dark vale, whose silent shade had been  
Religions veil, when blasted by the beams  
Of Persecution, far from the extremes  
Of solitude, or sweary labour, were  
Some few blessed men whose choice made Heaven their care  
Sequestered from the throngs of men to find  
Those better joys, calms of a peaceful mind.  
Yet though on this pacific sea, their main  
Design was Heaven, that voyage did not restrain  
Knowledge of humane arts, which as they passed  
They safely viewed, though there no anchor cast;  
Their better tempered judgements counting that  
But hoodwinked zeal, which blindly catches at  
The great Creators sacred will, without  
Knowing those works that will was spent about,  
Which being the climax to true judgement, we  
Behold stooped down to visibility  
In lowliest creatures, nature's stock being nought  
But God in's image to our senses brought.  
In the fair evening of that fatal day,  
By whose meridian light Love did betray  
Engaged Argalia near to death, was one  
Of these (heaven's happy Pensioners) alone  
Walking amongst the gloomy Groves to view  
What sovereign virtues there in secret grew  
Confined to humble plants; whose signatures  
Whilst by observing, he his art secures  
From vain experiments, Argalia's Page  
Crossing a neighbouring path, did disengage  
His serious eye from nature's busy task,  
To see the wand'ring Boy, who was to ask  
The way; for more his youths unprompted fear  
Expects not there, to the blessed man drawn near.  
But when, with such a weeping innocence  
As Saints confess those sins which the expense  
Of tears exacted, he had sadly told  
What harsh fate in restrictive wounds laid hold  
Of's worthy Master, pity prompted by  
Religious love, helps the poor Boy to dry  
His tears with hopes of comfort, whilst he goes  
To see what sad Catastrophe did close  
Those bloody scenes which the unequal fight  
Foretold, before fear prompted him to flight.  
No● far they'd passed ere they the place had found  
Where grovelling in a stream of blood, the ground  
His purple-bed, the wearied Prince they see  
Struggling with death, from whose dark monarchy  
Pale troops assail his cheeks, whilst his dim eyes  
Like a spent lamp which ere its weak flame dies,  
In giddy blazes glares, as if his soul  
Were at those casements flying out, did roll  
Swifter than thought their bloodshot orbs; his hands  
Did with death's agues tremble; cold dew stands  
Upon his clammy lips; the springs of blood  
(Having breathed forth the spirits) clotted stood  
On that majestic brow, whose dreadful frown  
Had to death's sceptre laid its terror down.  
The holy man upon the brink o'th' grave  
Finding such forms of worth, attempts to save  
His life from dropping in, by all his best  
Reserves of art, selecting from the rest  
Of his choice store, an herb whose sovereign power  
No flux of blood, though falling in a shower  
Of death could force, which gently bruised, and to  
His wound applied, taught nature to renew  
Her late neglected functions, and through short  
Recruits of breath made able to support  
His blood-enfeebled body, till they reach  
The Monastery, where nobler art did teach  
Their simple medicines to submit to those  
Which skill from their mixed virtues did compose.  
Life (which the unexpected gift of fate  
Rather than art appeared) in this debate  
Of death prevailing, in short time had gained  
So much of strength, that weakness now remained  
The only slothful Remora that in  
His bed detained him; where being often seen  
By those whom art alike had qualified  
For his relief, as one of them applied  
His morning-medicines to a spacious wound  
Fixed on his breast, he that rare jewel found  
Which in his undiscerning infancy  
There hung by's father, fortune had kept free  
From all her various accidents, to show  
How much his birth did to her favour owe.  
Shook with such silent joy as he had been  
In calm devotion by an Angel seen,  
The good old man, his wonder rarified  
Into amazement stands, he had descried,  
What, if no force had robbed him of it since  
'Twas first bestowed, none but his true born Prince  
Could wear, since art (wise Nature's fruitful ape)  
Ne'er but in that had birth which bore that shape  
Assured by which with unstirred confidence  
He asks Argalia where he knew from whence  
When nature first did so much wealth impart  
To earth, that jewel took those forms of art:  
But being answered, that his infancy  
When first it was conferred on him, might be  
Th' excuse of's ignorance; that voice alone  
Confirms his aged friend, who having known  
As much of fortune as in fates dark shade  
His understanding legible had made  
From weak Argalia, to require him leads  
Knowledge where he his life's first copy reads  
Dressed in this language.—  
— 'Twas, unhappy Prince!  
(For such this story must salute you, since  
Told to confirm't a truth) my destiny  
When youth and strength rendered me fit to be  
My dearest Countries servant, placed within  
Mantinea's glorious Court, where, having been  
Made capable by sacred Orders, I  
Attained the height of Priestly dignity,  
Being unto him whose awful power did sway  
That crown, in dear esteem; but Honour's day  
Which gilded then the Courtly sphere, sunk down,  
I lost my Mitre in the fall o'th' Crown.  
Sad is the doleful tale; yet since that in  
Its progress you may find where did begin  
Your life's first stage, thus take it. When the Court  
Stifled with throngs of men, whose thick resort  
Plenty and peace called thither, being grown  
Sickly with ease, viewed as a thing unknown,  
Dangers stern brow, which even in smiling fates  
Proves a Quotidian unto wiser States;  
Whilst pride grew big, and envy bigger, we  
Sleeping i'th' bed of soft security,  
Were with alarms wakened; Faction had,  
To show neglects deformities, unclad  
That gaudy monster, whose first dress had been  
The night-peeced works of their unriper sin,  
And those that in contracted fortunes dwelled,  
Calmly in favours shadow, having felt  
The glorious burden of their honour grown  
Too large for all that fortune called their own,  
Like fishes which the lesser fry devour,  
Pride having joined oppression to their power,  
Preyed on the subject, till their load outgrew  
Their loyalty, and forced even those that knew  
Once only to obey, in sullen rage  
To mutter threats, whose horror did presage  
That blood must in domestic jars be spilt,  
To cure their envy, and the people's guilt.  
These seeds of discord which began to rise  
To active growth, by th' honourable Spies  
Of other Princes seen, had soon betrayed  
Our States obscure disease, and called to aid  
Ambitious subjects, foreign powers, whose strength,  
First but as physick used, was grown at length  
Our worst disease, which whilst we hoped for cure,  
Turned our slow Hectic to a Calenture.  
A Syracusian army, that had been  
Against our strength often victorious in  
A haughty Rebels quarrel, being by  
Success taught how to ravish victory  
Without his aid, which only useful proved  
When treason first for novelty was loved:  
Seizing on all that in's pretended cause  
Had stooped to conquest, what th' enfeebled laws  
In vain attempted, soon perform, and give  
The traitor death, from what made treason live.  
This done, whilst their victorious ensigns were  
Fanned by fame's breath, they their bold standards bear  
Near to our last of hopes, an army which  
Like oft tried Oar, disasters made more rich  
In loyal valour then vast numbers, and  
By shaking fixed those roots on which did stand  
Their well-elected principles, which here  
(Oppressed with number) only did appear  
In bravely dying, when their righteous cause  
Condemned by fates inevitable laws,  
Let its religion, virtue, valour, all  
That heaven calls just, beneath rebellion fall.  
Near to the end of this black day, when none  
Was left that durst protect his injured throne,  
When loyal valour having lost the day  
Bleeding within the bed of honour lay:  
Thy wounded father, when his acts had shown  
As high a spirit as did ever groan  
Beneath misfortune, is enforced to leave  
The fields wild fury, and some rest receive  
In faithful Enna, where his springs of blood  
Were hardly stopped, before a harsher 'slud  
Assails his eyes: Thy royal mother, then  
More blooming then earths ful-blown beauties when  
Warmed in the Ides of May, her fruitful womb  
Pregnant with thee, to an untimely tomb,  
Her fainting spirits in that horrid fright  
Losing the paths of life, from time, from light,  
And grief steals down; yet ere she had discharged  
Her debts to death, protecting heaven enlarged  
Thy narrow lodging, and that life which she  
Lost in thy fatal birth, bestowed on thee;  
On thee, in whom those joys thy father prized  
More than loved empire, are epitomised.  
And now as if the arms of adverse fate  
Had all conspired our ills to aggravate  
Above the strength of patience, we are by  
Victorious foes, before our fear could fly  
To a remoter refuge, closed within  
Unhappy Enna, which before they win  
(Though stormed with fierce assaults) the restless sun  
His annual progress through-the heavens had run;  
But then, tired with disasters which attend  
A slow-paced siege, unable to defend  
Their numbers from resistless famine, they  
With an unwilling loyalty obey  
The next harsh summons, and so prostrate lie  
To th' rage, or mercy of their enemy.  
But ere the City's fortune was unto  
This last black stage arrived, safely withdrew  
To th' Castle's strength thy father was, where he  
(Though far from safety) finds the time to be  
Informed by sober council how to steer  
Through this black storm, love, loyalty, and fear  
Had often varied judgements, but at last  
Into this form their full resolves were cast.  
To cool hot action, and to bathe in rest  
More peaceful places, darkness dispossessed  
The days sovereignty, to usher whom  
Into her sable throne, a clouds full womb  
Congealed by frigid air, as if that then  
The elements had warred as well as men,  
In a white vail came hover down to hide  
The Coral pavements, but forbid by th' pride  
Oth' Conquerors triumphs, and expelled from thence  
As that which too much emblem'd innocence,  
Since that the City no safe harbour yields,  
It takes its lodging in the neighbouring fields,  
Which mantled in those spotless robes invite  
The Prince through them to take his secret flight.  
In sad distress leaving his Nobles to  
Swallow such harsh conditions as the view  
Of danger candied ore, from treacherous eyes  
Obscured in a Plebeians poor disguise  
His glorious train shrunk to desertless I,  
The sad companion of his misery;  
He now departing, thou his infant son  
Heir to his crown and cares, ordained to run  
This dangerous hazard of thy life before  
Time taught thee how thy fortune to deplore.  
When venturing on this precipice of fate,  
We slowly sallied forth, 'twas cold and late,  
The drowsy guard asleep, the Sentries hid  
Close in their huds did shivering stand, and chid  
The whistling winds with chatring teeth, when now  
A leave as solemn as haste would allow,  
Of all our friends, our mourning friends, being took,  
We like the earth veiled all in white forsook  
Our salliport, whilst slowly marching o'er  
The new fallen snow, thee in his arms he bore.  
Whilst this imposture made the scared guards when  
They saw us move, then make a stand again,  
Either to think that dallying winds had played  
With flakes of snow, or that their sight betrayed  
Their fancy into errors, we were past  
The reach of danger, and in triumph cast  
Off with our fears, what had us safety lent  
When strength refused to save the innocent.  
The eager lover hugs himself not in  
Such roseal beds of joy, when what hath been  
His sickly wishes is possessed, as we  
Through watchful foes arrived to liberty  
Embrace the welcome blessing; first we steer  
Our course towards Siracuse, whose confines near  
The mountain stood, upon whose cloudy brow  
Poor Enna did beneath her ruins bow.  
The Stars clothed in the pride of light, had sent  
Their sharp beams from the spangled firmament,  
To silver o'er the Earth, which being embossed  
With hills, seemed now enamelled o'er with frost,  
The keen winds whistle in the justling trees,  
And clothed their naked limbs in hoary frees.  
When having paced some miles of crusted earth,  
Whose labour warmed our blood, before the birth  
O' th' sluggish morning from his bed had drawn  
The early Villager, the sober dawn  
Lending our eyes the slow salutes of light,  
We are encountered with the welcome sight  
Of some poor scattered Cottages that stood  
In the dark shadow of a spacious wood  
That fringed an humble valley, toward those,  
Whilst the still morn knew nought to discompose  
Her sleepy infancy, we went, and now  
Being come so near we might discover how  
The unstired smoke streamed from the Cottage tops,  
A glimmering light from a low window stops  
Our further course, we're come to a low shed,  
Whose happy honour (ne'er disquieted  
With those domestic troubles that attend  
On larger roofs) here in content did spend  
Fortunes scant gifts, at his unhaunted gate  
Hearing us knock, he stands not to debate  
With wealthy misers slow suspicion, but  
Swift, as if 'twere a sin to keep it shut,  
Removes that slender Guard; but when he there  
Unusual Strangers saw, with such a care  
As only spoke a conscious shame to be  
Surprised, whilst unprovided poverty  
Straitened desire, he starts, yet entertains  
Us so, that showed by an industrious pains  
He strove to welcome more. Here being by  
Their goodness, and our own necessity  
Tempted a while to rest, we safely lay  
Far from pursuing ills, yet since the way  
To danger by suspicion lies, we still,  
Fear being betrayed by those that meant no ill,  
Since oft their busy whispers, though they spring  
From love, and wonder, slow discoveries bring.  
Being now removing, since thy tender age  
Threatened to make the grave its second stage  
If thence conveyed by us whose fondest love  
Could to thy wants but fruitless pity prove  
T' enlarge thy commons, though increase our fears  
To those indulgent rurals, who for tears  
Had springs of milk to feed thee, thou remain'st  
An infant tenant, for thy own name 'gainst  
What since thou hast been known by, which when we  
Contracted had to the stenography,  
Some gold, the last of all our wealth we leave  
To make their burden light, which they receive  
With thankful joy, amazed to see those bright  
Angels display their strange unwonted light  
In poverties cold region, where they had  
Been pined for want, if not by labour clad.  
When age should make thee capable to tell  
Thy wonder how thy infancy had fell  
From honour's pyramids, a jewel which  
Did once the splendour of his Crown enrich  
About thy neck he hangs, then breathing on  
Thy tender lips a parting kiss, we're gone,  
Gone from our last delight to find some place  
Dark as our clouded stars, there to embrace  
Unenvied poverty, in the cold bed  
Of sad despair, till on his reverend head,  
Once centre to a crown, grief makes him wear  
A silver frost by frequent storms of care  
Forced on that royal mount, whose verdute fades  
E'er time, by youth's antagonist invades.  
Not far, through dark and unknown paths we had  
Wandered within those forests, which unclad  
By big winds of their summer's beauteous dress  
Naked, and trembling stood, ere fair success  
Smiling upon our miseries did bring  
Us to a crystal stream, from whose cold spring,  
With busy and laborious care, we saw  
A feeble Hermit stooping down to draw  
An earthen pot, whose empty wants supplied  
With liquid treasure, soon had satisfied  
His thirsty hopes; who now returning by  
A narrow path, which did directing Isle  
Through th' unfrequented desert, with the haste  
Of doubtful Travellers, in lands laid waste  
By conquering foes, we follow till drawn near  
To him whom innocence secured from fear,  
Disburth'ning of his staff, he sits to rest  
What was with age and labour both oppressed.  
Our first salutes, when we for blessings had  
Exchanged with him, being sat, we there unclad  
All our deformed misfortunes, and unless  
A kingdom's loss disvelloped our distress.  
Which heard with pity, that he safely might  
Be the directing Pharos by whose light  
We might be safely guided from the rocks  
Of the tempestuous world, his tongue unlocks  
A cabinet of holy counsel, which  
More than our vanished honour did enrich  
Our souls (for whose eternal good was meant  
This cordial) with the world's best wealth, Content,  
Content, which flies the busy throne, to dwell  
With hungry Hermit's in the noiseless cell.  
More safe than age from the hot sins of youth,  
Peaceful as faith, free as untroubled truth,  
Being by him directed hither, we  
Long lived within this narrow Monast'rie,  
Whose orders being too strict for those that ne'er  
Had lost delight i'th' prosecuting care  
Of unsuccessful action, suited best  
With us, whose griefs compared taught the distressed  
To slight their own, as guests that did intrude  
On reason, in the want of fortitude,  
That brave supporter, which such comfort brings,  
That none can know but persecuted Kings.  
The purple-robe, his births unquestioned right,  
For the course habit of a Carmelite  
Being now exchanged, and we retired from both  
Our fears and hopes, like private Lovers loath  
When solve from the observant Spy, to be  
Disturbed by friends, for want, or greatness, free  
Secure and calm, we spent those happy days  
In nought ambitious, but of what might raise  
Our thoughts towards heaven, with whom each hour acquaints  
In prayer more frequent than afflicted saints  
Our happy souls, which here so long had been  
Refining, till that grand reward of sin,  
Death, did by age (his common harbinger)  
Proclaim's approach, and warned us to defer  
For the earth's trivial business) nought that might  
Concern eternity, lest life and light  
Forsaking our dark mansions leave us to  
Darkness and death, unfurnished of a clew  
Which might conduct (when time shall cease to be)  
Through the meanders of eternity.  
Thy pious father, ere the thefts of age  
Decaying strength, should his stiff limbs engage  
In an uneasy rest, to levelly all  
Accounts with heaven, doth to remembrance call  
A vow, which though in hot affliction made  
Whilst passions-short ephemeras did invade  
His troubled soul, doth now, when the disease  
Time had expunged, from solitary ease  
Call him again to an unwilling view  
Oth' active world, in a long journey to  
Forlorn Enna, unto whose Temple he  
Had vowed, if fortune lent him liberty,  
Till tired with the extremes of weary age,  
The cheap devotion of a pilgrimage.  
The End of the Fourth Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fourth Book. CANTO V.  
The Argument.  

I.  
To the grave Author of this happy news  
The pleased Argalia with delight did hear,  
Till (whilst the fatal story he pursues)  
He brings his great soul near the gates of fear,   

II.  
By letting him in full discovery know  
The dreadful danger that did then attend  
His royal Sire, who to his sword must owe  
For safety, ere his sad afflictions end.   
FOrsaking now our solitary friends,  
Whose prayers upon each slow-paced step attends  
From danger by a dress so course exempt  
As wore religion to avoid contempt,  
Through toils of many a tedious day, at last  
We Enna reach, where when his vows had passed  
The danger of a forfeiture, and we  
(That debt discharged to heaven) had liberty  
To look abroad, with sorrow-laden eyes  
We view those ruins in whose ashes lies  
Sad objects of our former loss, not then  
Raked up so deep, but old observant men  
When youths were in procession led, could tell  
Where towers once stood, and in what fights they fell;  
Which to confirm, some in an aged pride  
Show wounds, which than though they did wisely hide  
As signatures of loyal valour, they  
Now unsuspected with delight display.  
Hence when commanded by the wane of light  
We sought protection from approaching night  
In an adjacent Monastery, where we  
(The wand'ring objects of their charity)  
Although by all welcomed with friendly zeal,  
Found only one whose outside did reveal  
So much of an internal worth that might  
To active talk our clouded souls invight  
From griefs obscure retreats; his grave aspect  
(Though reverend age dwelled with unpruned neglect)  
Seemed dressed with such a sacred solitude,  
As ruin'd Temples in their dust include.  
My royal Master, as some power divine,  
Had by instinct taught great souls how to twine  
Though 'mongst the weeds of poverty, with this  
Blessed man consorting, whilst their apt souls miss  
In all their long discourse no tittle set  
For man's direction in heaven's alphabet;  
Whilst controverted points, those rocks on which  
Weak faiths are shipwrackt, did gems enrich  
Their art-assisted zeal, a sudden noise  
Clamorous and loud, in the soft womb destroys  
That sacred infant; the concordant bells  
Proclaim a joy, which larger triumph tells  
To be of such a public birth, that they  
(In quiet cells) for what they late did pray  
In tears (the souls oreflowing language) now  
(Being by examples common rule taught how  
They vary passions) and in manly praise  
Their silent prayers to Hallelujahs raise.  
By swift report informed that this days mirth  
From the proclaiming of their Prince took birth  
These private mourners for the public faults  
Of busy nations, by the hot assaults  
Of triumph startled from their gravity,  
Prepare for joy; all but grave Sophron, he  
Then with the pilgrim Prince, who both were sat  
Like sad Physicians when the doubtful state  
Oth' Patients theatens death, the serious eye  
Of Sophron as a threatening prodigy  
Viewing that flattering smile of fate, which they  
Of shallower souls praised as approaching day.  
When both (their souls from active words retired)  
A while had silent sat, the Prince desired  
To know the cause why in that triumh he  
Of all that Covent found the time to be  
With thoughtful cares alone, whom Sophron gave  
This satisfaction: Worthy Sir, I have  
In the few hours of our acquaintance found  
In you such worth, 'twould question for unsound  
My judgement, if unwilling to impart  
A secret, though the darling of my heart.  
Know then, this hapless Province, which of late  
Faction hath harassed, a wise Prince whom fate  
Deprived us of, once ruled; but so long since,  
That age hath learned from time how to convince  
The hot enormities of youth, since we  
With such a Ruler lost our liberty.  
For though at first, as he alone had been  
Our evil Geni●●, whose abode brought in  
All those attendant plagues, our fortune seemed  
To calm her brow, and captive hope redeemed  
In the destruction of our foes, which by  
A hot infection were enforced to fly  
From conquest near obtained: yet we, to show  
That only 'twas our vices did o'erthrow  
The merits of his weaker virtues, when  
Successful battles had reduced again  
Our panting Land from all external ill,  
Domestic quarrels threatened then to kill  
What foreign powers assailed in vain, and made  
Danger surprise, which trembled to invade.  
For many years tossed by th'uncertain wind  
Of wild ambition, we had sailed to find  
Out the Lucadian rocks of Peace; but in  
A vain pursuit; for we so long had been  
A headless multitude, the factious Peers  
Oppressing th'injured Commons, till our fears  
Became our fate, few having so much left  
Unsequestred, as might incite to theft  
Even those whom want makes desperate, all being spent  
On those that turn to th● worst of punishment  
What wore protections name, villains that we  
Inforc'd maintained to christian Tyranny  
Ith' injured name of Justice, such as kept  
Litigious Counsels, for whose Votes we wept,  
From punishment so long, till grown above  
The blinded people's envy, or their love.  
But lately these prodigious fires that led  
Us through the night of Anarchy, being fled  
At the approach of one, who since hath stood  
Fixed like a Star of the first magnitude,  
Diffusive power, which then was only shown  
In Factions dress, being now Rebellion grown,  
By the uniting of those atoms in  
One haughty Peer, ambitious Zarrobrin,  
Whose pride (that spur of valour) when 't had set  
Him in the front of Honers' alphabet,  
The sole Commander of those forces whence  
Our peace distilled, and in as large a sense  
As Subjects durst (whilst loyal) hope to have,  
Adorn their tombs, the highest titles gave  
Of a depending honour, to repay  
Their easy faiths that levelled had the way  
Unto his greatness, that Command he made  
The steps by which he struggled to invade  
A Throne, and in their heedless Votes include  
Unnoted figures of their servitude.  
When with attempts frequent as fruitless, I  
With others, whose firm love to loyalty  
Time had not yet expunged, had oft in vain  
Opposed our power, which found too weak to gain  
Our Country's freedom, we, as useless, did  
Retire to mourn for what the fates forbid  
To have redressed: since when, his pride being grown  
The people's burden whilst he urged his own  
Ambitious ends, he hath, to fix their love  
On principles whose structure should not move,  
Unless it their allegiance shook, brought forth  
Their Prince, whose fathers unforgotten worth  
Did soon command their full consent, and he  
For treason feared, made loved for loyalty.  
But since that 'mongst observant judgements this  
So sudden change might stand in doubt to miss  
A fair construction, to confirm't he brings  
An old Confessor of their absent Kings,  
The reverend Halophantes, one whose youth  
Made humane arts submit to sacred truth  
So much, that now arrived to graver age  
He (like authentic Authors) did engage  
The people● easy faith into a glad  
Belief, that when his youth's afflictions had  
Unthroned their Prince, he in that fatal night,  
Wisely contracting his imagined flight  
(As roads unto destruction) leaving all  
Frequented paths, did in night's silence call  
At's unfrequented Cell, where entertained  
With all the zeal that subjects which have gained  
From gracious Sovereigns, study to express  
A virtue in, which thrives by the distress  
Of an afflicted patron's, he betrays  
Enquiring Scouts, till some expunging days  
Make them forsake their inquisition in  
Despair to find: which vacancy did win  
Time to bestow his infant burden where  
Some secret friends did with indulgent care  
Raise him from undiscerning childhood to  
Be such as now exposed unto their view.  
Thy father, who with doubtful thoughts had heard  
This story, till confirmed in what he feared,  
Starts into so much passion as betrays  
Him through the thick mask of those tedious days.  
Time had in thirty annual journeys stepped  
To Sophron, who, when he a while had wept,  
A short encomion to good fortune, in  
Such prostrate lowliness as seemed for sin  
To censure guiltless ignorance, he meets  
His Prince's full discovery, whom he greets  
With all the zeal, such whose uncourtly arts  
Make tongues the true interpreters of hearts,  
Do those wise Princes whom they know to start  
At aguish flattery, as if indesert  
Ushered it in:— Those that know how to rate  
Their worth, prise it by virtue, not by fate.  
With Arguments which to assist he made  
Reasons firm power, Passions light scours invade,  
He had so oft th' unwilling Prince assailed,  
That importunity at length prevailed  
On his resolves, from peaceful poverty  
His age's refuge hurrying him to be  
Once more an Agent unto fortune in  
Uncertain toils, whose trouble to begin,  
Leaving his Prince to so much rest as those  
Whose serious souls are busied to compose  
Unravelled thoughts into a method; now  
Sophron forsakes him to discover how  
His fellow Peers of that lost party stand  
Disposed for action, if a King's command  
Should give it life; all which h● finds to be  
So full of yet untainted loyalty,  
That in a swift convention they prepare  
By joining judgements to divide their care.  
From distant places, with such secret haste,  
As did declare a flaming zeal, though placed  
In cautions shadow, owe considerate Peers,  
Such whose light youth th' experienced weight of years  
Had long since ballast with discretion, met  
To see their Prince, and to discharge the debt  
Of full obedience, each had with him brought  
His states surviving hope, snatched from the soft  
Hands of lamenting mothers, that to those,  
If fit for arms, they safely might dispose  
The execution of those Councils which  
Their sober age with judgement did enrich.  
In Sophron's Palace, which being far removed  
From the streets talking throngs, was most approved  
For needful privacy; these loyal Lords  
Whose faithful hearts th' infallible records  
The heedless vulgar (whose neglective sin  
Had lost the copies of allegiance in  
This inter regnum) trust to, being met  
To shun delays, (man's late repent debt)  
The Prince with speed appears, whom no disguise  
Of youth's betrayer, Time, could from their eyes  
Long undiscovered keep, through the rough vail  
Of Age, or what more powerful did prevail  
On Beauty's ruins, they did soon descry  
The unquenched embers of a Majesty  
Too bright for time to hide, with curtains less  
Dark than that mansion of forgetfulness,  
The Grave, which man's first folly taught to be  
The obscure passage to eternity.  
That their example might be precept to  
Unknowing youth, with all the reverence due  
To awful Princes on their thrones, the old  
Experienced Courtiers kneel; by which grown bold  
In their belief, those of unriper age  
Upon their judgements did their faith engage  
So far, that they in solemn vows unite  
Their yet concordant thoughts, which ere the flight  
Of time should leave the day behind, desire  
To live in action: But this rising fire  
Of loyal rage, which in their breasts did burn,  
The thankful Prince thus gently strives to turn  
Into a milder passion, such as might  
Not scorch with anger, but with judgement light.  
How much is't both my wonder and my joy,  
That we whom treason studied to destroy,  
With near as much of miracle, as in  
The last of days, lost bodies that have been  
Scattered amongst the elements, shall be  
Convened i'th' Court of immortality.  
Depressed with fortune and disguised with age,  
(Sad arguments, brave subjects, to engage  
Your loyal valour) I had gone from all  
My mortal hopes, had not this secret call  
Of heaven, which doth with unknown method curb  
Our wild intention, brought me to disturb  
Your peaceful age, whose abler youth had in  
Defending me exposed to ruin been.  
I had no more my conscience (now at rest)  
With Widow's curses, Orphans tears oppressed;  
No more in fight fields, those busy marts,  
Where honour doth for fame with death change hearts,  
Beheld the sad success of Battles, where  
Proud victors make youths conquest ages care,  
But hid from all, a crowns false glories, spent  
Like beauteous flowers, which vainly waste the scent  
Of odours in unhanted deserts, all  
My time concealed till withered age should fall  
From that short stem of nature, life, to be  
Lost in the dust of death's obscurity.  
When in the pride of youth my stars withdrew  
Their influence first, I then had stood with you  
Those thunderbolts of fate, and bravely died,  
Contemning fortune, had that feverish pride  
Of valour not been quenched in hope to save  
My infant son from an untimely grave.  
But he, when from domestic ills conveyed  
In safety, being by treacherous fate betrayed  
Either by death, or ignorance, from what  
His stars, when kindled first, where pointed at,  
Either lives not, or else concealed within  
Some course disguise, whose poverty hath been  
So long his dull companion, till he's grown  
Not less to us, then to himself unknown.  
All this being weighed in reasons scale, is there  
Ought in't can tempt decrepit age to bear  
Such glorious burdens, which if fortunate  
In the obtaining of, in nature's date  
Can have no long account, ere I again  
What I had got with danger, kept with pain,  
Summoned by death the graves black monarch, must  
With sorrow lose: yet since that heaven so just,  
And you so loyal I have found, that it  
Might argue fear, if I unmoved should sit  
At all your just desires, I here i'th' sight  
Of heaven declare, together with my right,  
To prosecute your Liberties as far  
As Justice dares to patronise a war.  
This with a magnanimity that showed  
His youths brave spirits were not all bestowed  
On the accounts of age, had to so high  
A pitch of zeal inflamed their loyalty,  
That in contempt of slow-packed counsels they  
Did like rash youth, whose wit wants times allay,  
Haste to unripe engagements, such as ●ound  
The issue weak, whose parents are unsound.  
All to those towns where neighbourhood had made  
Them loved for virtue, or for power obeyed;  
Whilst each with his peculiar guar● attends  
His honoured Prince, employ their active friends,  
Who having with collecting trumpets made  
Important errands ready to Invade  
The people's censure, for a theme to fame  
Their long lost Princes safe returu proclaim;  
Which, though at first, a subject it appeared  
Only for faith, when circumstance had cleared  
Th' eye of Reason, from each nobler mind  
Th' embraces of a welcome truth did find.  
In public throngs, whilst every forward friend  
Spoke his resolves, his sullen foes did spend  
Their doubts in private whispers, by exchange  
Of which they found hate had no farther range  
Then close intelligence, whose utmost bounds  
Ere they obtain, the useful trumpet sounds  
No distant summons, but close marches to  
His loyal friends, whom now their foes might view  
In troops, which if fate favour their intents,  
Ere long must swell to big-bulked Regiments:  
Through Country towns, and Cities prouder streets  
The murmuring drum in busy marches meets  
Such forward valour, husbandmen did fear  
The earth would languish the succeeding years  
For want of Laborers; nor could business stop  
The straightened Apprentice, who, the slighted shop  
Left to his angry Master, who must be  
Forced to abridge his seven years' tyranny,  
Changes the base utensils of trade  
For burnished arms, and by example made  
More valiant, scorns those shadows which they feared  
More than rough war, whilst 'mongst the city's herd.  
To Regiments, from scattering bands being grown,  
From that to Arms, whose big looks made known  
Those bold designs, which Justice feared to own,  
Though hers, till placed in Powers imperial throne,  
They now toward action haste; which to begin,  
Whilst Castles are secured, and Towns girt in  
With armed lines, whose Pallizadoes had  
Whole Forests of their whispering Oaks unclad.  
The Prince, his mercy willing to prevent  
Approaching danger, by a Herald sent  
To Zarrob●in, commands him to lay down  
His arms, and as he owed unto his Crown  
A Subjects due allegiance, to appear  
Before a month was added to that year,  
Within his Court, which now, since action gave  
Life to that body whose firm strength did save  
His life (by treason levelled at) was in  
His moving Camp. But this too weak to win  
The doubtful Rebel, since his lawful right  
Swords must dispute, the Prince prepares to fight.  
Proud Zarrobrin, who had by late success  
Taught Siracuse how to avoid distress  
By seeking peace, like a black storm that flies  
On Southern winds, which in a tumult rise  
From neighbouring seas, was on his march: But come  
Sonear the Prince, that now he had by some  
Of's spreading Scouts made full discovery where  
His Army lay; whose scarce discovered Rear  
Such distance from their well-armed Van appeared,  
That such whose judgements were with numbers feared  
Making no further inquisition, fled  
By swift report their pale disease to spread.  
Disturbing clouds which rather seemed to rise  
From guilt then fear spread darkness o'er the eyes  
O'th' Rebels, who, although by custom made  
To death familiar, wish their kill trade  
In peace concluded, and with murmurs nigh  
Grown to the boldness of a mutiny,  
Question their own frail judgements, which so oft  
Had life exposed to dangers, that had brought  
No more reward than what preserved them still  
The slaves unto a proud Commanders will.  
To stop this swift infection, which begun  
In lowly huts, to lofty tents had run,  
Sly Zarobrin, who to preserve th' esteem  
Of honour, lest lib'rality might seem  
The child of fear, with secret speed prevents  
What he appears to slight, their discontents.  
As if attending, though attended by  
Their young Mock-Prince, whose landscape royalty  
Showed only fair, when viewed at distance, he  
Passing with slow observant pace to see  
Each squadrons order, he confirms their love  
With donatives, such as were far above  
Their hopes if Victors; then, to show that in  
That pride of bounty h'had not striven to win  
Assistance by unworthy bribes, he leads  
Them far from danger, since his judgement reads  
In long experience, that authentic story,  
Whose lines hath taught the nearest way to glory;  
That soft delays, like treacherous streams, which by  
Submitting lets the rash intruder try  
Their dangerous depth, to an unwilling stay  
His fierce pursuers would ere long betray;  
Whose force since of th'untutored multitude  
By want made desperate, and by custom rude  
Would soon waste their unwieldy strength, whilst they  
Whom discipline had taught how to obey,  
By pay made nimble, and by order sure,  
Would wars delays with easier wants endure.  
This sound advice meeting with sad success  
From the pursuing Army, whose distress  
From tedious marches being too clamorous grown  
For's friends estates to quiet, soon was shown  
In actions such, which though necessity  
Inforc'd on virtue, made their presence be  
To th' inconsiderate vulgar, whose loose glance  
For virtue take vice glossed with circumstance,  
Such an oppression, that comparing those  
Which fled with mildness, they behold as foes;  
Only their ruder followers, whom they curse,  
Not that their cause, but company was worse.  
When thus their wan●s had brought disorder in,  
And that neglect whose loser garb had been  
At first so shy, that what was hardly known  
From business then, was now to custom grown.  
This large limbed body, since united by  
No cement but the love to loyalty  
Loses those base parts, such as to please  
Unworthy ends turned duty to disease,  
Retaining only those whose valour sought  
No more reward than what with blood they bought.  
But here, to show that slumbering justice may  
Oppressed with power, faint in the busy day  
Of doubtful battle; when their valour had  
So many souls from robes of fresh unclad  
Of his brave friends, that the forsaken Prince  
Whose sad success taught knowledge to convince  
The Arguments of hope; unguarded left  
Unto pursuing foes was soon bereft  
Of all that in this cloud of fortune might  
By opposition or unworthy flight,  
But promise safety, and when death denied  
Him her last dark retreat to raise the pride  
Of an insulting foe, is forced to see  
The scorn of greatness in captivity.  
Yet with more terror to limb sorrow in  
His mighty soul, such friends as had not been  
By death discharged in fatal battle, now  
Suffered so much as made even fear allow  
Her palest sons, to seek in future wars  
Brave victory got, by age's honour, scars,  
Or braver death, that antidote of shame,  
Whose stage none pass upon the road of Fame,  
Those that fared best being murdered, others sent  
With life to more afflicting banishment.  
When thus by him whose sacred order made  
The truth authentic, from his fortune's shade  
Argalia was redeemed, the Prelate to  
Confirm his story, from his bosom drew  
The jewel, which having by ways unknown  
To him that wore it opened, there was shown  
By wit contracted into art, as rare  
As his that durst make silver spheres compare  
With heavens light motion, an Effigies which  
His royal Sire, whilst beauty did enrich  
His youth, appeared in such epitome,  
As spacious fields are represented by  
Rare optics on opposing walls, where sight  
Is cozened with imperfect forms of light.  
When with such joy as Scythians that grow proud  
Of day, behold light gild an eastern cloud,  
Argalia long had viewed that picture in  
Whose face he saw forms that said his had been  
Drawn by that pattern, with such thanks, as best  
The silent eloquence of looks expressed,  
The night grown ancient, ere their stories end,  
With solemn joy, leaves his informing friend.  
The End of the Fourth Book.    

PHARONNIDA. The fifth Book.  

CANTO I.  
The Argument.  

I.  
Tiered with afflictions in a safe retreat  
From th' active world, Pharonnida is now  
Making a sacred monastery her seat,  
Where near approaching the confirming vow,   

II.  
A rude assault, makes her a Prisoner to  
Almanzor's power, to expiate whose sin  
The subtle Traitor swiftly leads her to  
The Court, where she had long a stranger been.   
HEre harsh employments, the unsavoury weeds  
Of barren wants had overrun the seeds  
Of fancy with domestic cares, and in  
Those winter storms shipwrecked what ere had been  
My youths imperfect offspring, had not I  
For love of this neglected poverty,  
That meager fiend whose rustic talons stick  
Contempt on all that are enforced to seek  
Like me, a poor subsistence 'mongst the low  
Shrubs of employment, whilst blessed wits that grow  
Good fortunes favourites, like proud Ceders stand  
Scorning the stroke of every feeble hand,  
Whose vain attempts, though they should martyr sense,  
Would be repulsed with big-bulked confidence:  
Yet blush not gentle Muse, thou oft hast had  
Followers, by fortune's hand as meanly clad,  
And such as when time had worn envy forth  
Succeeding ages honoured for their worth.  
Then though not by these rare examples fired  
To vain presumption, with a soul untired  
As his, whose fancies short Ephemeraes know  
No life, but what doth from his liquor flow,  
Whose wit grown wanton with canary's wealth  
Makes the chaste Muse a pandress to a health,  
Our royal Lover's story I'll pursue  
Through times dark paths, which now have led me to  
Behold Arga●ia, by assisting art  
Advanced to health, preparing to depart  
From his obscure abode, to prosecute  
Designs, which when, success strikes terror mute  
With pleasing joy, shall him the mirror prove  
Of forward valour, glossed with filial love.  
But let us here with prosperous blessings leave  
A while the noble Hero, and receive  
From times accounts the often varying story  
Of her whose love conducted him to glory,  
Distressed Pharonnida, whose sufferings grown  
Too great for all that virtue ere had known  
From humane precepts, flies for refuge to  
Heaven's narrowest paths, where the directing clew  
Of Law, to which the Earth for order owes,  
Lost in zeals light, a useless trouble grows.  
Returned were all the messengers, which she  
Had at the first salutes of Liberty  
To seek Argalia sent: But since none brought  
Her passions ease, sick hope no longer sought  
Those flattering empirics; but at Love's bright fires  
Kindling her zeal, with sober pace retires  
From all expected honours, to bestow  
What time her youth did yet to nature owe,  
A solemn Recluse, by a sacred vow  
Locked up from action, whilst she practised how  
By speculation safely to attain  
What busier Mortals doubtfully do gain.  
Within the compass of the valley, where  
Ismanders' palace stood, the pious care  
Of elder times had placed, a monastery,  
Whose fair possessors from life's tumults free,  
In a calm voyage towards heaven (their home) there spent  
The quiet hours, so sweetly innocent,  
As if that place, that happy place, had been  
Of all the earth alone exempt from sin;  
Some sacred power ordaining (when 'twas given)  
It for the next preparing school to heaven;  
From whence those Vestals should, when life expires,  
Be for supplies advanced to heavenly quires.  
Lost to the world in sorrows labyrinths, here  
Pharonnida, now out of hope to clear  
This tempest of her fate, resolves to cast  
Her faiths firm anchor: But before she passed  
The dangerous straits of a restrictive vow,  
She to such friends as judgement taught her how  
To prise, imparts it; 'mongst which few, the fair  
Silvandra, whom lost love had taught despair,  
With sad Florenza, both resolve to take  
The same strict habit, and with her forsake  
The treacherous world. But to disturb this clear  
Stream of devotion, soon there did appear  
Dissuading friends, Ismander loath to lose  
So loved a guest, whilst she's of power to choose,  
Together with the virtuous Amida,  
Spend their most powerful arguments to draw  
Her from those cold thoughts, that her virtue might  
Whilst unconcealed, lend weaker mortals light.  
Long had this friendly conflict lasted, ere  
Her conquered friends, whom a religious care  
Frighted from robbing heaven of Saints, withdrew  
To mourn her loss; yet ere they left her to  
Her cloistered Cell, Ismander, to comply  
With aged custom, calls such friends whom nigh  
Abode had made familiar, to attend  
His Royal guest; some hasty days they spend  
In solemn feasting, where each friend although  
Clothed as when they at triumphs met, did show  
A silent sadness, such as wretched Brides,  
When the neglected nuptial robe but hides  
The cares of an obstructed love, before  
Harsh parents wear. The mirthless feast passed o'er,  
The noble Virgins in procession by  
The mourning train, unto the Monast'ry  
Slowly conducted are, each led by two  
Full-breasted Maids, whom Hymen to renew  
The world's decaying stock, his joys to prove  
By contracts summoned to conjugal love.  
These as they passed, like Paranymphs which led  
Young Beauties to espouse a Maidenhead  
With harmony, whose each●concording part  
Tickled the ear, whilst it did strike the heart  
With mournful numbers, rifling every breast  
Of their deep thoughts, thus the sad sense expressed.  

I.  
To secret walks, to silent shades,  
To places where no voice invades  
The air, but what's created by  
Their own retired society,  
Slowly these blooming Nymphs we bring  
To wither out their fragrant spring,  
For whose sweet odours Lovers pine,  
Where beauty doth but vainly shine:   

Cho.  
Where Nature's wealth, and Arts assisting cost  
Both in the beams of distant hope are lost.   

2.  
To Cloisters where cold damps destroy  
The busy thoughts of Bridal joy;  
To Vows whose harsh events must be  
Uncoupled cold Virginity;  
To pensive prayers, where heaven appears  
Through the pale cloud of private tears,  
These captive Virgins we must leave,  
Till freedom they from death receive:  
Only in this remote conclusion blest,   

Cho.  
This vale of tears leads to eternal rest.   

3.  
Then since that such a choice as theirs,  
Which styles them the undoubted heirs  
To heaven, 'twere sinful to repent:  
Here may they live till beauty spent  
In a religious life, prepare  
Them with their fellow-Saints to share  
Celestial joys, for whose desire  
They freely from the world retire:   

Cho.  
Go then, and rest in blessed peace, whilst we  
Deplore the loss of such society.   
Through all the slow delays of Love arrived  
To the unguarded gate, friendship that thrived  
Not in Persuasions rhetoric, withdraws  
Her forces to assist that juster cause,  
Prayers for their future good; with which whilst they  
Are taking leave, th'unfolded gates give way  
For the blessed Votaries entrance, whom to meet,  
A hundred pair of Maids, more chastely sweet  
Then flowers which grow untouched in deserts, were  
Led by their Abbess; to whose pious care  
These being joined, with such a sad reverse  
Of eyes oreflowing, as the sable hearse  
Close mourners leave, when they must see no more  
Their coffined dead, their friends are from the door  
With eager looks, woes last since now denied  
A further view, departs unsatisfied.  
This last of duties which the dearest friend  
Ought to perform, brought to successful end;  
For here no custom with a dowries price  
At entrance paid, nursed slothful avarice:  
They're softly led through a fair garden, where  
Each walk was by the founders pious care,  
For various fancies, wanton imagery,  
To catch the heart, and not to court the eye,  
Adorned with sacred histories. From hence  
To th' centre of this fair circumference  
The fabric come, the roving eye confined  
Within the buildings, to enlarge the mind  
In contemplation, saw where happy Art  
Had on the figured walls the second part  
Of Sacred story, drawn in lines that had  
The world's Redeemer from his first being clad  
In robes of flesh, presented to the view  
Through all his passion, till it brought him to  
The Cross, that highest seal of love, where he  
A sinless offering died, from sin to free  
The captived world, which knew no other price  
But that to pay the debts of Paradise.  
Past through this place, where bleeding passion strove  
Their melting pity to refine to love,  
They're now the Temple entered, where to screen  
Their thoughts yet nearer heaven, whom they had seen  
Ith' entrance scourged, contemned & crucified,  
They there beheld, though veils of glory hide  
Some part of the amazing Majesty  
In his Ascension, as when raised to be  
For them that hear his death freed from the hate  
Of angry heaven, the powerful Advocate.  
Besides these bold attempts of Art that stood  
To fright the wicked, or to prompt the good;  
Something more great, more sacred, then could by  
Art be expressed, without the help o'th' eye  
Reached at the centre of the soul, from whence  
To heaven, our raised desires circumference,  
Striking the lines of Contemplation, she  
Wrapped from the earth, is in an ecstasy  
Holy, and high, through faith's clear optic shown  
Those joys which to departed saints are known.  
Before those prayers which zeal had tedious made  
With their last troops did conquered heaven invade;  
The day was on the glittering wings of light,  
Fled to the western world, and swarthy night  
In her black Empire throned; from silver shrines  
The kindled lamps through all the temple shines  
With dappled rays, that did to th' eye present  
The beauties of the larger firmament.  
In which still calm, when all their rites were now  
So near performed, that the confirming vow  
Alone remained, a sudden noise of rude  
And clamorous sound, did through the ear intrude  
On their affrighted fancies, in so high  
A voice, that all their sacred harmony  
In this confusion lost, appeared so small,  
As if that whispered which was made to call.  
Although the awful majesty that here  
Religion held, the weak effects of fear  
With faith expelled, yet when that nearer to  
Their slender gates the murmuring tumult drew;  
The Abbess sends not to secure, but see  
Who durst attempt what heaven from all kept free  
By strictest law, save those unhallowed hands  
That follow curses whilst they fly commands,  
But they being entered ere the timorous Scout  
Could notice give, fear, which first sprung from doubt  
Being into wild confusion grown, from all  
Set forms affrights them, whilst at once they call  
For heavens protecting mercy, to behold  
That place where peaceful Saints used to unfold  
Heavens Oracles, possessed with villains that  
Did ne'er know aught but want to tremble at,  
Which looked like those that with proud Angels fell,  
And to storm heaven were sent in arms from hell,  
Converts that Scene where nothing did appear  
But calm devotion, to distracting fear;  
Amazed with horror, each sad votaress stands  
Whilst sacred relics drop from trembling hands;  
Here one whose heart with fears convulsions faint,  
Flies to the shrine of her protecting saint;  
By her another stands, whose spirits spent  
In Passion, looks pale as her monument:  
One shrieks, another prays, a third had crossed  
Herself so much, ill Angels might have lost  
The way to hurt her, if not taught to do'r,  
'Cause she to th' sign too much did attribute.  
The royal Stranger by her fear pursued  
To th' altar fled, had with mixed passion viewed  
This dreadful troop, whilst from the temple gate  
They passed the seat where trembling virgins sat  
Free from uncivil wrongs, as if that they  
That entered had been men prepared to pray,  
Not come to ravish, from which sight her fear  
Picks flowers of hope, but such, as they drawn near  
From fancies soft lap, in a Hirocane  
Of passion dropped her prayers and tears in vain  
As words in winds, or showers in Seas, when they  
Prepare for ruin the obstructed way  
To pity, which her stock of prayers had cost,  
In the dark shade of sudden horror lost.  
Seized on by two o' th' sacrilegious train  
Whose black disguise had made the eye in vain  
Seek to inform the soul, she and the poor  
Florenza, whilst their helpless friends deplore  
With silent tears so sad a loss, are drew  
From the clasped Altar in th' offended view  
Of their protecting saints, from whose shrines in  
A dismal omen dropped what ere had been  
With hopes of merit placed. Black sulphry damps  
With swift convulsions quenched the sacred lamps,  
The fabric shakes, and as if grieved they stood  
To circled guilt, the walls sweat tears of blood.  
Shrieks, such as if those fainted souls that there  
Trod heaven's straight paths, in their just quarrel were  
Rose from their silent dormitories to  
Deter their foes, through all the temple flew.  
But here in vain destroying angels shook  
The sword of vengeance, whilst his bold crimes struck  
'Gainst heaven in high contempt; with impious haste,  
Snatched from the altar, whilst their friends did waste  
Unheard Orisons for their safety, they  
Unto the Fabrick's utmost gate convey  
Their beauteous prizes, where with silence stood  
Their dreadful guard, which like a neighbouring wood  
When vapours tip the naked boughs in light,  
With unsheathed swords through the black mists of night  
A sparkling terror struck, with such a speed  
As scarce gave time to fear what would succeed.  
To such preceding villainies, within  
Her Coach imprisoned, the sad Princess, in  
A march for swiftness such as busy war  
Hastes to meet death in, but for silence far  
More still than funerals, is by that black troop  
With such exchange as falling stars do stoop  
To nights black region, from the monastery  
Hurried in haste, by whom, or whither, she  
Yet knows no more than souls departing, when  
Or where, to meet in robes of flesh again.  
The day salutes her, and uncurtained light  
Welcomes her through the confines of the night▪  
But lends no comfort, every object that  
It showed her, being such, as if frighted at  
The Prince of day, grieved he'd no longer slept,  
To shun, shrunk back beneath a cloud, and wept.  
When the unfolded curtains gave her eyes  
Leave to look forth, a troop, whose close disguise  
Were stubborn arms, she only saw, and they  
So silent, nought but motion did betray  
The faculties of life, by whom being led  
In such a sad march as their honoured dead  
Close mourners follow, she some flow-paced days  
'Mongst strangers passing through stranger ways,  
(At both amazed) at length, unfathomed by  
Her deepest thought within the reach o'th' eye  
Her known Ghirenza views; but with a look  
From whence cold passion all the blood had took,  
And in her face (that frozen sea of fear)  
Left nought but storms of wonder to appear.  
Convened within the spacious Judgment-hall  
Of Reason, she, ere this had summoned all  
Her weaker passions to th' impartial Bar  
Of Moral Virtue, where they sentenced are  
Only to an untroubled silence; in  
Which serious act whilst she had busied been,  
She is, unnoted, ere the fall of day  
Brought by her convoy to a Lodge that lay  
Off from the road, a place, when seen, she knew  
E'er his rebellion, had belonged unto  
Her worst of foes, Almanzor, which begins  
At first a doubt, whose growing force soon wins  
The field of faith, and tells her timorous thought  
Her father's troops would ne'er have thither brought  
Her, if designed to suffer, since that he  
Knew those more fit for close captivity.  
But long her reason lies not fettered in  
These cross Dilemmas; the slow night had been  
With tedious hours passed o'er, whilst she by none  
But Mutes, no less unheard, than their unknown  
Is only waited on, by whom, when day  
To action called (she veiled) is led the way  
To the attending Convoy, who had now  
Varied the Scene, Almanzor studying how  
To court compassion in his Prince, dares not  
At the first view, ere merit had begot  
A calm remission of rebellious sin,  
Affront an anger which had justice been  
In his confusion; his arms he now behind,  
As that which might too soon have called to mind  
His former crimes, he leaves, and for them took  
To gain the aspect of a pitying look,  
A Hermit's homely weed, his willing train  
By that fair gloss their liberties to gain,  
Road armed; but so, what for offence they bore,  
Was in submission to lay down before  
The throne of injured power, to cure whose fear  
Their armed heads on haltered necks appear  
Near to the rear of these, the Princess in  
A mourning Litter, close as she had been  
In a night-march unto her tomb, is through  
The Cities wand'ring tumults led unto  
The royal palace, at whose gates all stay  
Save bold Almanzor, whom the Guards obey  
For his appearing sanctity so much,  
That he unquestioned enters, and thought such  
As his grave habit promised, soon obtained  
The Prince's sight, where with a gesture feigned  
To all the shapes of true devotion, he  
By a successful fiction comes to be  
Esteemed the true converter of those wild  
Bandits, which being by their own crimes exiled  
In spite of law had lived to punish those  
Which did the rules of punishment compose.  
These being pardoned, as he'd took from thence  
Encouragement, veiled under the pretence  
Of a religious pity, he begins  
In language, whose emolient smoothness wins  
An easy conquest on belief, to frame  
A sad Petition, which although in name  
It had disguised Pharonnida, did find  
So much of pity as the Prince inclined  
To lend his aid for the relief of her  
Whose virtue found so fair a character  
In his description, it might make unblessed  
That power which left so much of worth distressed.  
Though too much tired with private cares to show  
In public throngs how much his love did owe  
To suffering virtue, yet since told that she  
Was too much masked in clouds of grief to be  
The object of the censuring Court, he to  
The Litter goes, whose sable veil withdrew  
With wonder, that did scarce belief admit  
Shadowed in grief, he sees his daughter sit,  
His long lost daughter, whom unsought, to be  
Thus strangely found, to such an ecstasy  
Of joy exalts him, that his spirits by  
Those swift pulsations had been all let fly  
With thanks towards heaven, had not the royal Maid  
With showers of penitential tears allayed  
Those hotter passions, and revoked him to  
Support her griefs, whose burden had out-grew  
The powers of life, but that there did appear  
Kind nature's love, to cure weak natures fear.  
In this encounter of their passions, both  
With sorrow silent stood, words being loath  
T' intrude upon their busy thoughts, till they  
In moist compassion melted had away  
His anger's fever, and her frozen ●ears  
In Nature's balm, soft loves extracted tears:  
Like a sad Patient whose forgotten strength  
Decayed by cronick ills, hath made the length  
Of life his burden, when near death, meets there  
Unhoped for health; so from continual care,  
The souls slow hectic, elevated by  
This cordial joy, the slothful Lethargy  
Of age, or sorrow finds an easier cure  
Than the unsafe extreme, a Calenture.  
Nor are these comforts long constrained to rest  
Within the confines of his own swelled breast,  
Ere it's dismantled rays did in a flight  
Swift as the motions of unbodied light  
Disperse its Epidemic virtues through  
The joyful Court, which now arrived unto  
Its former splendour, heaven's expected praise  
Doth on the wings of candid mercy raise:  
Which spreading in a joyful Jubilee  
To all offenders, tells Almanzor he  
Might safely now unmask; which done, ere yet  
Discovered, at the well-pleased Princess feet  
Humbled with guilt he knelt; who at the sight  
As much amazed as so sublime a flight  
Of joy admitted, stands attentive to  
What did in these submissive words ensue.  
Behold, great Sir, (for now I dare be seen)  
An object for your mercy that had been  
Too dreadful for discovery, had not this  
Preceding joy told me, no Crime could miss  
The road of mercy, though like mine, a sin  
The suffering Nation is enveloped in.  
Sunk in the ocean of my guilt, I head gone  
A desperate Rebel, waited on by none  
But Outlaws to a grave obscure, had not  
Relenting heaven thus taught me how to blot  
Out some of sins black characters, ere I  
Beheld the beams of injured Majesty.  
This in his passions relaxation spoke,  
Persuades the Prince's justice to revoke  
Its former rigour. By the helpful hand  
Of mercy raised, Almanzor soon did stand  
Not only pardoned, but secured by all  
His former honours from a future fall,  
Making that fortune which did now appear  
Their pity's object, through the glass of fear  
With envy looked on, but in vain, he stood  
Confirmed in Love's Meridian altitude  
The length of life from Honours western shade,  
Except in new Rebellion retrograde:  
Which plotting leave him, till the winding clew  
Of fancy shall conduct your knowledge to  
Those uncouth vaults; and mounting the next story,  
See Virtue climbing to the throne of glory.  
The End of the First Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fifth Book. CANTO II.  
The Argument.  

I.  
Leaving Pharonnida to entertain  
The varieus' passions of her Father, we  
Must now return to see Argalia gain  
That power by which he sets his Father free   

II.  
From the command of haughty Rebels, who  
By justice sent to a deserved death,  
Argalia takes the Crown, his merits due,  
And the old Prince in peace resigns his breath.   
Returned to see what all the dark records  
Of the old Spartan History affords  
Ith' progress of Argalia's fate, I found  
The chained Historian here so strictly bound  
To follow truth, although at dangers cost,  
No silent night, nor s●●cky battle lost  
The doubtful road, which often did appear  
Through floods of faction filled with storms of fear  
Obscure and dark, to the belief of that  
Less guilty age; though then to tremble at  
Rome's bold ambition, and those prodigies  
Of earth, their Tyrants, to inform their eyes,  
Left mourning monuments of ill, but none  
Like what they now attempt, a sin unknown  
To old Aspirers, which should have been sent  
Some Ages forward for a precedent  
To these, with whom compared, their crimes had been,  
Though past to act, but weak essays of sin.  
With such a speed as the supplies of air  
Fearing a vacuum, hasten to repair  
The ruptures of the earth, at our last view  
We left revived Argalia posting to  
Aetolia's distant confines, where arrived,  
He found their Army, whose attempts had thrived  
Since he Epirus had forsaken, so far  
Advanced, that now the varied scene of war  
Transferr'd to faithless Ardena, was there  
Fixed in a siege, whose slow approaches were  
The doubts of both; the city pines for fear  
Remote supplies might fail, which drawn so near  
The circling Army knows, that either they  
Must fly from conquest near obtained, or stay  
To meet a danger, which by judgement scanned,  
Their strength appears unable to withstand.  
Whilst thus their pensive leaders busied are  
In cross dilemmas, as by public war  
He meant to meet revenge in private, to  
Their camp Argalia comes, a camp which knew  
Him by the fair-wrought characters of fame  
So well, that now he needs no more than name  
Himself to merit welcome, all mistrust  
Being cleared by them which left as too unjust  
To be obeyed, the false Epirots●ide ●ide,  
When by his loss made subject to the pride  
Of stranger Chiefs; these for their virtue praised  
For number feared, to such a height had raised  
Applauding truths of him, that Zarrobrin  
Conjoined to one he trembled at, whilst seen  
In opposition, slights what did of late  
Appear a dreadful precipice of fate.  
Lest poor employments might make favour show  
Like faint mistrust, he doth at first bestow  
On the brave stranger the supreme command  
Of some choice horse, selected to withstand  
The fierce Epirot's march, whose Army ere  
The slow Aetolians could their strength prepare  
Fit to resist, if not by him withstood,  
With case had gained a dangerous neighbourhood▪  
But he, whose angers thunderbolts could stay  
Though hurled from clouds of rage, if the allay  
Of judgement interposed, here finding nought  
More safe than haste, ere his secure foes thought  
Of opposition, strongly had possessed  
A straight in which small troops had oft distressed  
Large bodied Armies, until brought so low,  
Those they contemned did liberty bestow.  
Whilst stopped by this unlooked for remora  
The baffled Army oft had striven to draw  
Argalia from his safe retreats, but found  
His art of more advantage than his ground;  
In the dead Age of unsuccesful night  
A forward party which had learned to fight.  
From honours dictates, not commands, being by  
Youths hasty guide, rash valour, brought so night,  
Argalia's troops, that in a storm which cost  
Some lives, they many noble Captives lost:  
Amongst which number, as if thither sent  
By such a fate as showed Heavens close intent  
Pointed at good, E●riolus appears  
First a sad captive; but those common fears  
Soon, whilst in conflict with his passions, rest  
On the wished object of his long inquest  
Admired Argalia, to whose joy he brings  
As much of honour, as elected Kings  
Meet in those votes, which so auspicious prove,  
They light to honour with the rays of love.  
Having from him in full relation heard  
Pharonnida yet lived, whom long he feared  
Beyond redemption lost, they thence proceed  
To counsels, whose mature results might breed  
Their heedless foes confusion, which since they  
That now were captives, bore the greatest sway  
In the opposing Army proves a task  
So free from danger, death did scarce unmask  
The face of horror in a charge, before  
Argalia's name echoed in praises o'er  
The rallied troops, summons from thence so large  
A party, that the valour of a charge  
In those that stood were madness, which to shun,  
Base Cowards taught brave Fighters how to run.  
This easy conquest gained; ere Zarrobrin  
Was with his slower Army drawn within  
The noise o' th' battle, to such vast extent  
Of fame, high virtues spreading ornament,  
Had raised Argalia's merits, that the pride  
Of his Commander wisely laid aside  
For such advantage, to let honour stand  
On her own basis, the supreme command  
Of all the strangers in his Camp to him  
He freely gives, a power which soon would dim  
His, if ere by some harsh distemper placed  
In opposition; but his thoughts embraced  
In all suspicions darkest cells, no fiend  
So pale as fear, fixed on the sudden end  
Of high designs, he looks on this success  
As the straight rode to future happiness  
With such a speed as prosperous victors go  
To see, and conquer, when the vanquished foe  
Retreats from honour, the Aetolian had  
Followed success, till that fair hand unclad  
The sunk Epirot of his strength, and now  
Secured from foreign ills was studying how  
To cure domestic dangers; which since he  
The weak foundation of his Tyranny  
Had fixed in sand but only cemented  
With loyal blood, such just contempt had bred  
I' th' Ages deep discerning judgements, that  
Th' unsettl'd herd, ere scarcely lightened at  
Those sober flames, like ill mixed vapours break  
In blustering murmurs forth, which though too weak  
To force his fortune on the rocks of hate,  
With terror shook the structure of his fate.  
Like wise Physicians, which when called to cure  
Infectious ills, with Antidotes make sure  
Themselves from danger; since hypocrisy  
Could steal no entrance to affection, he  
Leads part of's Army for his guard, that they  
Where mines did fail, by storm might force a way.  
But since he doubts constrained domestics, though  
Abroad obedient, might, when come to know  
From burdened friends their cause of grief, forsake  
Unjust commands, his wiser care did take  
Argalia and his stranger troops, as those  
(Which unconcerned) he freely might dispose  
To wind up all the engines of his brain,  
So guilt were gilded with the hopes of gain.  
By hasty marches being arrived with these  
Within Aetolia, where his frowns appease  
Those bubbles, that (their Neptune absent) would  
Have swelled to waves, ere his hot spirits cooled  
Were with relaxing rest, he visits him  
The weak reflex of whose light crown looks dim  
To th' burnished splendour of his blade that set  
Him only there to be the cabinet  
Of that usurped diadem, which he  
Whose subtle arts in clouded brows could see  
The hearts intended storms, beheld without  
His unstrained reach, until the people's doubt,  
Which yet lived in the dawn of hope, he saw  
Oreshadowed with the forms of injured Law.  
Though time (that fatal enemy to truth)  
Had not alone robbed the fresh thoughts of youth  
O' th' knowledge of their long lost Prince, but been  
Even unto those that had adored him in  
His throne, oblivions handmaid, yet lest by  
Some power occult that in captivity  
Forsakes not injured Monarches, there remained  
In most some passions, which first entertained  
At pity's cost, at length by reason tried  
Grew so much loved, that only power denied  
Them to support his sinking cause, which seen  
By Zorabrin, whose tyranny had been  
At first their fear, and now their hate, he brings  
His Army, an Elixir, which to Kings  
Transforms Plebeians, by the strength of that  
To bind those hands, that else had struggled at  
Their heads offence, which wanting power to cure,  
They now with griefs convulsions must endure.  
A Court convened of such whose kill trade  
The rigid Law so flexible had made,  
That their keen Votes had forced the bloodiest field  
To the deep tincture of the Scaffold yield;  
Forth of his uncouth prison summoned by  
The rude commands of wronged Authority,  
An object which succeeding Ages when  
But spoke of weep, because they blushed not then,  
The Prince appears a guarded captive in  
That City where his morning Star had been  
Beheld in honour's Zenith; slowly by  
Inferior slaves, which ne'er on Majesty  
Whilst uneclipsed durst look, being led to prove  
Who blushed with anger, or looked pale with love.  
By these being to a mock-tribunal brought,  
Where damned rebellion for disguise had sought  
The veil of justice, but so thinly spread,  
Each stroke their envy levelled at his head  
Betrayed black treasons hand, couched in that Vote  
Which struck with Law to cut Religion's throat.  
From a poor Pleader, whose cheap conscience had  
Been sold for bribes, long ere the purple clad  
So base a thing, their calm-souled Sovereign hears  
Death's fatal doom, which when pronounced, appears  
His candour, and their guilt, the one expressed  
By a reception, which declared his breast  
Unstired with passion; th' other struggling in  
Their troubled looks, which showed this monstrous sin  
That this damned plot did to rebellion bear,  
Even frighted those that treasons midwives were.  
Hence (all their black designs encouraged by  
The levelled paths of prosperous villainy)  
High mounted mischief, stretched upon the wing  
Of powerful ill, pursues the helpless King  
To the last stage of life, a scaffold, whence  
With tears (cheap offsprings to his innocence)  
Such of his pitying friends as durst disclose  
Their passions, view him, whilst insulting foes  
(Exalted on the pyramids of pride)  
By long-winged power, with base contempt deride  
Their sorrow, and his sufferings whom their hate  
Had followed near the period of his fate;  
Which being now so near arrived, that all  
With various passion did expect the fall  
Of the last fatal stroke, kind heaven to save  
A life so near the confines of the grave,  
Transcends dull hope by so sublime a flight,  
That dazzled faith, (amazed with too much light;  
Whilst ecstasies of wonder did destroy  
Unripe belief) near lost the road of joy.  
Even with the juncture of that minute when  
The axe was falling, from those throngs of men  
Swayed by's command, Argalia with a speed  
That startled action, mounts the stage, and freed  
The trembling Prince from deaths pale fear; which do ne  
To show on what just grounds he had begun  
So brave, so bold an action, he seizes all  
That knowledge or suspicion dares to call  
The Tyrant's friends, the guilty Tyrant, who  
Whilst he doth from his distant palace view  
This dreadful change, with a disdain as high  
As are his crimes, being apprehended by  
Argalia's nimble guards, is forced to be  
Their sad Conductor to a destiny  
So full of horror, that it hardly lies  
In's foes to save him for a sacrifice  
From their wild rage who know no justice but  
What doth, by death, a stop to fury put.  
From noisless prayers and bloodless looks, being by  
The bold Attempters of his liberty  
Raised to behold his rescue; heedless fear  
Hatched by mistake, from those that bordered near  
Had with such swiftness its infection spread,  
That the more distant knowing not what bred  
The busy tumult, in so wild a haste  
As vanquished troops which at the heels are chased  
Fly the pursuing sword, they madly run  
To meet those dangers which they strove to shun▪  
In which confusion none o'th' throng had been  
Left to behold how justice triumphed in  
Revenges throne, had not a swift command  
By power enabled, hastened to withstand  
That troubled torrent which the truth ourgrew  
Until their fears original they knew.  
The onset past, Argalia, having first  
Secured the Tyrant, for whose blood the thirst  
Of the vexed people raged, he mounted on  
That scaffold whence his father should have gone  
A royal martyr to the grave, did there  
By a commanded silence first prepare  
The clamorous throng to hear the hidden cause  
Which made him slight their new-created laws.  
Then, in that mart of satisfaction which  
With knowledge doth the doubtful herd enrich,  
The public view, he freely shows how far  
Through ●ortunes deserts the auspicious star  
Of heavens unfathomed providence had led  
Him from the axe to save that sacred head,  
Whose reverend snow his full discovery had  
In the first dress of youthful vigour clad,  
Could constant nature sympathise with that  
Reviving joy his spirits panted at.  
His son's relation, seconded by all  
That suffering sharer in his pitied fall,  
Mantinea's Bishop, knew, joined to the sight  
Of that known jewel, whose unwasted light  
Had served alone to guide them, satisfies  
The inquisition even of critic eyes  
With such a fullness of content, that they  
(Each from his Prince being lightened with a ray  
Of sprightly mirth) endeavoured to destroy  
Their former grief in hope of future joy:  
Which to attain to, those whose counsels had  
The land in blood, and them in mourning clad,  
Called forth by order to confession, there  
Are scarce given time the foulness to declare  
Of their past crimes, before the people's hate  
(That headstrong monster) strove t' anticipate  
The sword of vengeance, and in wild rage save  
The labour of an ignominious grave  
To every parcel of those rend limbs, that  
When but beheld, they lately trembled at:  
" Such being the fate of falling Tyrants, when  
" Conquering, the fear, conquered, the scorn of men  
But here lest inconsiderate rage should send  
Their souls to darkness, ere confession end  
Their tragic story, hated Zarrobrin  
With that unhappy boy whose Crown had been  
Worn but to make him capable to die  
A sacrifice to injured liberty,  
Rescued by order from the rout, is to  
A public trial brought, where in the view  
Of all the injured multitude, the old  
Audacious traitor did to th' light unfold  
His acts of darkness, which discovered him  
They gazed on, whilst unquestioned power did dim  
Discerning wits but a dull Meteor, one  
By hot ambition mounted to a throne,  
By an attractive policy, which when  
Its influence failed, back to that lazy Fen,  
His fortune's Centre, hurling him again,  
The only Star in Honour's Orb would reign.  
This sly Imposture seconded by that  
Rebellious guilt his actions offered at  
In all its bold attempts, had kindled in  
The late supporters of unprosperous sin  
So high a rage, that in wild fury they  
Their anger wanting what it should obey,  
A sober judgement, stands not to dispute  
With the slow Law, but with their strength confute  
All tending to delay; like torrents broke  
Through the imprisoning banks, to get one stroke  
At heads so hated all rush in, until  
Their severed limbs want quantity to fill  
A room i' th' eyes receiving beams; this done,  
With blood and anger warmed, they wildly run  
To search out such whom consanguinity  
Had rendered so unhappy, as to be  
Allied to them, all which with rage that styled  
Beasts merciful, and angry soldiers mild,  
They to destruction chase, whilst guiltless walls  
In which they dwelled in funeral blazes falls,  
Where burns inviting treasure, as they saw  
In the golds splendour an Anathema  
So full of horror, as it seemed to be  
A plague beyond unpitied Poverty.  
Impetuous Rage, like whirl winds unopposed  
Hushed to a calm, as hate had but unclosed  
The anger-blinded eyes of Love, the bold  
Flame like a fire, forced from repulsive cold,  
Breaks through the harsh extreme of hate, to show  
How much their loyal duty did out-grow  
Those fruits of forced obedience, which before  
They slowly to intruding Tyrants bore;  
In which procession of their joy, that he  
Might meet their hopes with a solemnity  
Large as their love, or his delight; the Prince  
Taught by informing age how to convince  
Ambitions hasty Arguments, calls forth  
His long lost son, whose late discovered worth  
Was grown the Ages wonder, to support  
The ponderous Crown, whilst he did tread the short  
And sickly step of age, untroubled by  
The burden of afflicting Majesty.  
His Coronation passed in such a tide  
Of full content, as to be glorified,  
Blessed souls in the world's conflagration shall  
From tombs their reunited bodies call,  
The feeble Prince leaving the joyful throng  
Of his applauding Subjects, seeks among  
Religious shades (those cool retreats) to find  
That best composer of a stormy mind,  
A still devotion, on whose downy bed  
Not long he'ad lay before that entrance led  
Him to the Court of heaven, though through the gate  
Of welcome death, a cross, which though from fate,  
Not accident, he being instructed by  
Age, and Religion, to prepare to di●  
On Nature's summons, yet so deep a strain  
Spreads o'er those robes that joy had died in grain,  
That his heroic son to meet alone  
So fierce a so, leaving the widowed throne  
Retreats to silent tears, whose plenteous spring  
By the example of their mourning King,  
From those small clouds there first beheld to rise,  
Begets a storm in every Subject's eyes.  
Betraying time, the world's unquestioned thief.  
Intending o'er obliterated grief  
Some new transcription, to perform it brings  
A ravished quill from Love's expanded wings,  
Presenting to Argalia's willing view  
What ere blind chance rolled on the various clew  
Of his fair Mistress, Fate, unfolded by  
Euriolus, who was when victory  
First gave him freedom, by Argalia sent  
With speed that might anticipate intent,  
The unconfined Pharonnida to free  
From her religious strict captivity.  
But being arrived where contrary to all  
His thoughts, he heard how first she came to fall  
Into Almanzor's hand, by whom conveyed  
Thence to her Father's Court, his judgement stayed  
Not to consult with slow advice, but hastes  
On the pursuit of her; whom found, he wastes  
Few days before fair opportunity  
Was so auspicious to his prayers, that he  
Not only proves a happy Messenger  
Where first employed, but in exchange for her  
Returns the story of what had been done  
Since first this tempest of their fate begun.  
How she forsook the Monastery, and in  
What agonies of passion thence had been  
Forced to her father's Court, where all her fears  
Dissolve in pity, he related hears  
With calm attention; but when come to that,  
Whose first conceptions he had trembled at,  
The Siracusians fresh assaults unto  
That Virgin-fort, whose strength although he knew  
Too great for storm, yet since assisted by  
Her Father's power, the wraths of victory  
Rend by command from his deserts might crown  
Another's brows, to pull those Laurels down  
Ere raised in triumph, he prepares to move  
By royal steps unto the throne of love.  
The End of the Second Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fifth Book. CANTO III.  
The Argument.  

I.  
From the Aetolians l●te victorious King  
Ambassadors in Sparta's Court arrive;  
Where slighted, back they this sad Message bring  
That force must only make his just claim thrive.   

II.  
Which to confirm, th' Epirots power invades  
His Land, in hopes for full reward to have  
Pharonnida; but close Almanzor shades  
His glorious hopes in an untimely grave.   
AN unripe rumour, such as Causes near  
Declining catch at, when betraying fear  
Plunges at hope, had through Ghirenza spread  
The story of Argalia's fate, but shed  
From such loose clouds of scattered fame, as by  
Observant wits were only thought to fly  
I' th' airy region of report, where they  
Are forced each wind of fancy to obey.  
Whose various blasts, when brought unto the test  
Of judgement, rather the desires expressed,  
Then knowledge of its Authors: here 'mongst those  
Of various censure, sly Almanzor chose  
To be of the believing part, since that  
Might soon crush all hopes that levelled at  
Affection to Pharonnida, whom he  
Strove to preserve in calm neutrality.  
But here he fails to countermine his plot,  
This seeming fable soon appears begot  
By solid truth, a truth which scorns to lie  
Begging at th' gates of probability;  
Which to avoid, she from Argalia brings  
Ambassadors (those mouths of absent Kings)  
To plead her right, at whose unlooked for view  
Almanzor, whose fallacious schemes were drew  
Only for false Phaenomena's, is now  
Forced to erect new figures, and allow  
Each star his influence; but declared in vain,  
Since Pride did lord of the Ascendant reign;  
Pride, which conjoined to policy had made  
All other motions seem but retrograde.  
His black Arts thus deceived, since nought could make  
The dull Spectators ignorance mistake  
This constellation for a Comet, he  
Attempts with fear of its malignity  
To fright each busy gazer, and since all  
The circles of opinion were to fall  
Like spacious Azminths in that Zenith, to  
S●ttle the Prince, through whom the people view  
All great conjunctions, where the different sign  
Should force those aspects, which might 'mongst that trine  
Of love else hold a concord, to dispense  
On him its most destructive influence.  
The Court being thus prepared, he boldly now  
Dares the delayed Ambassadors allow  
A long expected audience, which in brief  
Makes known their master's fate in the relief  
Of's injured father, thence proceeds to show  
How much of praise his thankful friends did owe  
To heaven for's own restored estate, which he  
Desires to join in calm confederacy  
With them, his honoured neighbours; hence they passed  
To what concerned Pharonnida, their last  
And most important Message: which when heard  
In such a Language as the Rivals feared,  
A Language, which, to prove his interest  
In her unquestioned, come but to request  
The freedom of a father's grant, a high  
But stifled rage began to mutiny  
In all their breasts, such, as if not withheld  
By th' Law of Nations, had her father swelled  
To ope● acts of violence; which seen  
By some o' th' Lords, they calm his passion in  
A cool retreat, such as might seem to be,  
Though harsh contempt, wrapped in civility.  
Fired with disdain, th' Ambassadors in such  
A speed which showed affronts that did but touch  
Their Master's honour wounded theirs, forsook  
Ghirenza, whilst Euriolus betook  
Himself to some more safe disguise that might  
Protect him, till the subject of delight,  
The course his royal master meant to steer  
In gaining her, his Story makes appear  
Unto distressed Pharonnida, who in  
That confidence secure, as she had been  
From all succeeding ills protected by  
A guard of Angels, in a harmony  
Of peaceful thoughts, such as in dangers keep  
Safe innocence, rocks all her cares asleep.  
But here she rests not long before the fall  
Of second storms proves this short interval  
But lightning, which in tempests shows unto  
Shores, which the shipwrecked must no more than view:  
Anger, ambition, hate, and jealous fear  
Had all conspired Love's ruin, which drew near  
From hasty counsels rash results, which in  
His passions s●orm had by her Father been  
Like rocks, which wretched Mariners mistake  
For Harbours, fled to, when he did forsake  
That safer channel of advice that might  
From free conventions, like the welcome light  
Of Pharos guided his designs, till they  
At Anchor in the road of Honour lay.  
As if his fears by nothing could have been  
Secured, but what proved him ungrateful in  
Argalia's ruin, all discourses are  
Distasteful grown, but what to sudden war  
Incites his rage: which humour, though it needs  
No greater fire than what his envy feeds,  
Besides those Court-Tarantula's whose breath  
Stings easy Princes, till they dance to death  
At the delightful sound of flattery, there  
Were deeper wits, such whom a subtle care,  
Not servile fear taught how to aggravate  
His anger's flame, till their own eager hate  
Though burning with a mortal fury, might  
Pass unobserved, since near a greater light.  
Amongst those few whose love did not depend  
So much on fortune, but the name of friend  
Was still preserved, the faithful Cyprian Prince  
Durst only strive by reason to convince  
Their wilder passions; but each Argument  
With which affection struggled to prevent  
A swift destruction, only seemed to prove  
His friendship more effectual than his love.  
From which mistake, such as did strive to please  
The angry Princes passionate disease  
With what might seed the sickly humours, draw  
A consequence that proves Pharonnida  
A blessing which was to his merits due  
Who most opposed the bold aspirer to  
That throne of Beauty, which before possessed,  
Whole Armies must dispute their interest.  
The slighted Cyprian, since their fear could trust  
None but confederates, from their Councils thrust  
Those swift conclusions, which before to stay  
Their violence, had Reason's cool allay  
Hurried to action, strict commands are sent  
From fierce Zoranza through each Regiment,  
Which stooped their Ensigns to his power, that by  
Such marches as they'd follow victory,  
They reach Aetolia ere its new-crowned King  
Warned by report, had liberty to bring  
Opposing strengths, (a task too hard to be  
Performed with ease in powers minority.)  
Nor fails this Council; for their Army draws  
No sooner near, but such as in the cause  
Of unsuccessful Rebels late had been  
Exposed to danger, seek for refuge in  
A fresh revolt; and since their ulcerous guilt  
Was so malignant, that even mercy spilt  
Its balm in vain, their injured Prince forsake,  
To strengthen his proud Enemies, who make  
Those Poisons up in Cordials, and compound  
Them with their Army, which being thus grown sound  
Whereas it lately fainted, durst provoke  
Unto the trial of another stroke  
His late victorious forces; which, though yet  
Faint with the blood lost in the last great fit  
Of Honour's fever, when the Crisis proved  
The cures prognostic, had with ease removed  
The proud invaders, had Morea been  
As heretofore a hurtful Neuter in  
That war; which now, since double strengths oppose  
Brave fortitude, like base oppression shows.  
So long both parties with variety  
Of fortune fought, that fearing whose might be  
The sad success, that old Cleander, in  
Such speed as if his Crown engaged had been,  
Raises an Army, whose command, since he  
Base flattery takes for brave fidelity,  
Waving those Peers to whose known faith he owes  
The most of trust, in hoodwinked hope, bestows  
On false Almanzor, who by power advanced  
Near to those hopes at which Ambition glanced  
But like weak eyes upon the dazzling sun,  
From that last ●atal s●age his plots begun  
Mischiefs dark course, which ere concluded shall  
Crush the Epirot in Morea's fall.  
In this the hot distemper of their state,  
A●ind●, whom the Destinies of late  
To double-die his Honour's purple-thred,  
Robbed of a father, most disquieted  
Their secret counsels, since they knew the love  
He bore Argalia, propped with power, might prove  
A sad obstruction to their plots, if he  
Urged by distastes, shook their confederacy  
Off to assist his friend; which to oppose,  
With slattery fleeting as the gourd that rose  
But to discover his just wrath that made  
The plant to cover, when it could not shade,  
They all attempt, though he engage not in  
Their party, yet his easy youth to win  
By honour's moths, by times betrayers, soft  
And smooth delights, those serpents, which too oft  
Strangle Herculean virtues: But they here  
In Ages April find a wit appear  
Of such full growth, that by his judgement they  
Are undermined, who studied to betray.  
Being thus secured from foreign fears, they now  
Employ that rage, whose speed could scarce allow  
Advice from Council, to extirpate those  
New planted Laurels victory did compose  
To crown Argalia. But before they go  
To ravish Conquest from so cheap a Foe  
Whose valour by o'erwhelming power was barred  
From lying safe at a defensive guard,  
Till old Cleander, that their league might be  
Assured by bonds whose firm stability  
Death only could divorce, intends, though she,  
With such aversion as their destiny  
Wretches condemned would shun, attempt to fly  
The storm of fate; yet countmanded by  
His power, the fair Pharonnida, although  
He not to love, but duty seemed to owe  
For such a blessing, should Zoranza's be  
Confirmed by Hymen's high solemnity.  
This resolution, whose self-ends must blame  
Her father's love, once registered by fame,  
Submits to censure; whilst Pharennida  
Laments her fate, some prompted by the law  
Of love and nature are to entertain  
So much of freedom, as they prove in vain  
Her advocates: Others, whose cautious fear  
Dares only pity, in that dress appear  
Silent and sad; only Almanzor in  
This State-distemper, by that subtle sin  
Dissimulation, so disguises all  
His black intentions, that whilst truth did call  
Him Treasons agent, its reflected light,  
Appearance, spoke him Virtue's proselyte;  
So much a Convert, as if all those hot  
Crimes of his youth ambition had begot,  
Discreeter age had either cooled, or by  
Repentance changed to zeal and loyalty.  
Whilst thus i'th' Court the most judicious eyes  
Deluded were by factions false disguise,  
By rumours heavy as the damps of death  
When they fly laden with the dying breath  
Of new-departed souls, this fatal news  
Assaults the Princess, which whilst reason views  
With sad resentments, to support her in  
This storm of fate, Amindor, who had been  
In all her griefs her best adviser, now  
Enters to tell her fainting sorrows how  
They'd yet a refuge left, from whom she might  
Reap hopes of safety: The first welcome sight  
Of such a friend, whose former actions had  
enhanced his worth, encountering with her sad  
And serious thoughts, so rarefies that cloud  
Of grief, that ere dissolving tears allowed  
A vocal utterance, as intended words  
Something contained too doleful for records:  
Both sighed, both wept; at length the Princess broke  
Silence, and thus liar dismal passions spoke.  
Dare you, my Lord, approach so near unto  
A factious grief, in this black storm to view  
Distressed Pharonnida? have either I  
Or my Argalia's slighted memory  
Yet in Morea a remaining friend,  
Whose virtue dares by its own strength contend  
Against this torrent of Court-factions? Now,  
Now, Royal Sir, that doom which will allow  
My soul no more refreshing slumbers, by  
My father's past, my father (Sir) whom I  
Must disobey with all the curses due  
To black rebellion, or else prove untrue  
Those vows, those oft repeated vows, which in  
Our Love's full growth hath to Argalia been  
Sealed in the sight of heaven. About to speak  
Her passions fuller, sorrow here did break  
The sad theme off, and to proclaim her fears,  
(Except th'o'erflowing language of her tears)  
No Herald left. In which sad silent fit  
The valiant Cyprian, who at first did sit  
His passions prisoner, from that bondage free,  
To her disease prescribes this remedy.  
— Cease Madam—  
Cease to eclipse illustrious beauty by  
Untimely tears; your griefs deformity  
Frights not Amindor from his friendship, when  
I first beheld that Miracle of men  
Adored Argalia, pluck from victory  
His Naval laurels, Honour told me I  
Was then so much his Virtues captive, that  
Not all the dangers mortals tremble at  
Can make me shun assisting of him in  
Retaining you, though my attempts have been  
Employed in vain, in public council, to  
Procure your peace, there's something left to do  
By which our private plots may undermine  
Their public power, and unperceived decline  
That danger which, without this secret friend,  
It lies not in our fortune to defend.  
From griefs cold swoon to living comforts by  
This cordial raised, Pharonnida's reply  
Owns this pathetic language: If there be  
In all the dark paths of my destiny  
Yet left a road to safety, name it, Sir,  
What I'll attempt, no danger shall deter,  
So brave Amindor be my conduct through  
The dismal road; but my wild hopes outgrow  
What ere my reason dictates. No, my Lord,  
Fly that sad fate whose progress can afford  
Nought but disasters, and live happy in  
Orlinda's love; should I attempt to win  
You from so fair a virtue, 'twere a wrong  
Too full of guilt to let me live among  
The number of your friends, 'mongst whom let m●  
In all your future thoughts remembered be  
As the most wretched to whom rigid fate  
All hopes weak cordials hath applied too late.  
Here ceased the sorrowing Lady, to suspend  
Whose following tears, her charitable friend  
Prescribes this comfort: Though my zeal hath been,  
When serving you, so unsuccessful in  
My first attempts, it gives just cause to doubt  
My future actions; yet to lead you out  
Of this dark labyrinth where your sorrow stands  
Masked with amazements, not the countermands  
Of my affection to Orlinda, though  
Confirmed by vows, shall stop; let grief bestow  
But so much time (unclouded by your fear)  
To look Hopes volumes o'er, there will appear  
Some lines of comfort yet, which that we may  
Not in a heedless horror cast away,  
Prepare for speedy action, to prevent  
Ensuing ills no time is left unspent  
But only this approaching night, by which  
To sly from danger you must stoop t'enrich  
A course disguise, whose humble shadow may  
Enquiring eyes to dark mistakes betray.  
Our first retreat, which is designed to be  
No further than the neighbouring monastery  
Where I of late did lie concealed, I have  
Thus made secure: There stands an ancient cave,  
Close hid in unfrequented shadows, near  
Your garden's postern gate; which when the fear  
Of bordering foes denied a free access  
To the old Abbey, they from the distress  
Of threatening Scouts were safe delivered by  
A vault that through it leads; which though so nigh  
Unto the city, careless time, since not  
Forced to frequent, hath wholly left forgot  
By busy mortals. In this silent Cell  
Where nought but Lights eternal strangers dwell  
In the Meridian depth of night, whilst all  
Are robbed in rest, you none encounter shall  
(Except myself) but him, who may with us  
This secret share, esteemed Euriolus;  
With whom, and your endeared Florenza, we  
Within the unsuspected monastery  
Protected by some secret friends may stay  
Till fruitless searches waste their hopes away,  
Whose watchful spleen by care conducted might  
Stop our intentions of a further flight.  
Raised from the cold bed of despair, from this  
Mature advice to hopes of future bliss,  
The heavenly fair Pharonnida had now  
Withdrawn the vail of grief, and could allow  
Some smiles to wait upon those thanks which she  
Returned her friend; who, that no time might be  
Lost by neglect from needful action, in  
A calm of comforts, such as had not been  
Her late associates, leaves the Princess to  
Pursue those plots, which fortune bent t'undo,  
Whilst hope on expectations wings did hover,  
Did thus by fatal accident discover.  
That knot in her fair thread of destiny,  
That lurking snake, the Purgatory by  
Which heaven refined her, cursed Amphibia, had,  
Whilst mutual language all their thoughts unclad,  
Close as an unsuspected plague that in  
Darkness assaults, an unknown sharer been  
Of this important issue; which with hate  
Her genius met, soon strives to propagate  
A brood of Fiends: Almanzor, whose dark plots  
Like images of damned Magicians rots  
Themselves to ruin others, like in this  
Last act of ill by too much haste to miss  
The road that led through slippery paths of sin,  
From pride's stupendious precipice falls in  
A gulf of horror, in whose dismal shade  
A private room his dark retreat is made.  
Here whilst his heart is boiled in gall, his brain  
O'erwhelmed in clouds, whose darkness entertain  
No beam of reason, whilst ambition mixed  
Examples of the bloodiest murders fixed  
Upon the brazen front of time, all which  
Lends no unfathomed policy t'enrich  
His near impoverished brain, he hears one knock,  
Whose sudden noise soon scattering all the flock  
Of busy thoughts, him in a hasty rage  
Hurries to th' door, where come, his eyes engage  
His tongue to welcome one whose cursed advice  
His tortured thoughts turned to a Paradise  
Of pleasing hopes, on whose foundation he  
Prepares to build a future Monarchy.  
A slow-consuming grief, whose Chronic stealth  
Had slily robbed Palermo's Prince of health,  
In spite of all the guards of Art had long  
Worn out his strength, and now had grown too strong  
For age to bear, each baffled Artist in  
A sad despair forsaking what had been  
Tried but t'upbraid their ignorance, except  
An aged Friar whose judgement long had slept  
From watchful practice. but i'th' Court of Arts  
Been so employed, that the mysterious parts  
Of clouded Theoricks, which he courted by  
High contemplation, to his minds clear eye  
Lay all undressed of that disguise which in  
Man's fall t'afflict posterity, they'd been  
By angry heaven wrapped in; so that he knew  
What astral virtues Vegetables drew  
From a celestial influence, and by what  
Absconded magic Nature fitted that  
To working humours, which they either move  
By 'xpulsive hate, or by attractive love.  
This Arts true master, when his hope was grown  
Faint with delays, to the sick Prince made known,  
A swift command calls from his still repose  
The reverend Sire, who come, doth soon disclose  
That long concealed malignity which had  
The feeble Prince in sickly paleness clad:  
Nor stays his Art at weak prognostics, but  
Proceeds to practise whatsoe'er may put  
His Prince in ease, Cordials abstracted by  
A then near undiscovered chemistry,  
Such as in single drops did all comprise  
Nature ere taught Art to epitomise;  
Such, as if armed with a Promethean fire,  
Might force a bloodless carcase to respire;  
Such as curbed fate, and in their hot assault  
Whilst storming life, made deaths pale army halt.  
This rare Elixir by the Prince had been,  
With such success as those that languish in  
Consuming ills, could wish themselves, so long  
Used, that those fits which else had grown too strong  
For nature to contend withal, were now  
Grown more remiss; when Fate, that can allow  
No lasting comforts, to declare her power  
o'er Art itself, arrests that Conqueror  
Of others ills, with a disease that led  
Him a close prisoner to an uncouth bed;  
Which like to prove natures slow chariot to  
Th'expecting grave, loath to the public view  
To prostitute a secret, yet bound by  
The obligation of his loyalty  
T'assist his Prince, he to Pharonnida  
That sovereign secret, which could only awe  
Her father's threatening pain, declares, which she  
Hath since composed; when ever's extremity  
Suffered those pains, whose progress to prevent,  
she'd by Amphibia now the Cordial sent;  
The sly Amphibia, who did soon obey  
What lent her hate a freedom to betray.  
His first salutes being past, with such a speed  
As did declare the guilt of such a deed,  
Might doubt discovery, she unfolds that strange  
Amazing truth, which from the giddy range  
Of wild invention soon contracts each thought  
Into resolves, such as no object sought  
But the destruction of what ere might stop  
Ambition's progress; toward the slippery top  
Of which now climbing on Conceits stretched wing,  
He silent stands, whilst teeming fancy brings  
That Monster forth, for whose conception he  
Long since deflowered his virgin-loyaltie.  
Few minutes, by that auxiliary aid  
Which her discovery lent, his thoughts convaid  
Through all the roads of doubt: which safely passed,  
Strictly embracing her who in this last  
And greatest act of villainy must have  
A farther share, he thus begins: Oh save,  
Save, thou that art my better genius now,  
What thou alone hast raised; my hopes must bow  
Beneath impossibilities, if not  
By thee assisted; Fortune hath begot  
The means already; let this Cordial be  
With poison mixed, Fate knows no enemy  
Dares grapple with me; Do not start, there's here  
No room for danger, if we banish fear.  
His thoughts thus far discovered, finding in  
Her various looks, that apprehended sin,  
The souls Mercurial pill, did penetrate  
Her callous conscience, in whose cell this sat  
With knawing horror; whilst all other lives  
Whom her fraud spilt, proved hurtless corrosives,  
From the cold ague of repentance, he  
Thus rouses her: Can my Amphibia be  
By fear (that fatal remora to all  
That's great, or good) thus startled? is the fall  
Of an old Tyrant grown a subject for  
This soft remorse? let thy brave soul abhor  
Such sickly passions, when our fortune stands  
Fixed on their ruin, the unwilling hands  
Of those that now withstand our glorious flight  
Will help enthrone us, whilst unquestioned right,  
(Which is for power the world's mistaken word)  
Is made our own by th' Legislative sword.  
Raised from her fears cold trepidations by  
These hot ingredients, in an ecstasy  
Of flatuous hopes, she casts herself into  
This gulf of sin; and being prepared to do  
An act, which not the present times could see  
With sense enough, whilst in th'extremity  
Of wonder lost, through all his guards strict care  
Death to the unsuspecting Prince doth bear.  
Freed from this doubt, Almanzor to avoid  
That storm of rage, which when their Prince destroyed  
The Courtshould know, might rise from fear, pretends  
Haste to the Army; but being gone, suspends  
That speedy voyage, and being attended by  
A wretch whose guilt assured his privacy,  
Through paths untrod hastes to the Cave wherein  
Those habits which had by Amindor been  
(Whilst he his beauteous charge did thence convey)  
Prepared to cloud illustrious beauty, lay:  
Of which, in such whose size did show they were  
For th' largest sex, they both being clad, with care  
Secret as swift, haste to augment the flood  
Of swelling sins with yet more royal blood.  
Th' Epirots constant Prince, by custom had  
Made known a walk; which when the day unclad  
Of glittering tissue, in her evenings lawn  
Sat coolly dressed, to court the sober dawn,  
He often used, near this Almanzor (by  
Hell made successful in his villainy)  
Arrived some minutes ere the other, lies  
Concealed, till darkness, and a close disguise,  
(Those safe protectors) from his unseen seat  
Call him to action, where, with thoughts replete  
With too much joy t'admit suspicion, he  
Finds the Messenian, whom no fear to be  
Assaulted there had armed, his spacious train  
Shrunk into one that served to entertain  
Time with discourse: Upon which heedless pair  
The armed Almanzor rushing unaware,  
Ere strength had time their valour to obey  
In storms of wounds their senses lose the way  
T'external objects; in which giddy trance  
The other Lord, whose spirits readvance  
To life, they fear not, lies secure, whilst by  
Redoubled wounds his Prince's spirits fly  
From the most strong retreats of life, which now  
Battered by death, no safety could allow.  
Revenges thirst being in this royal flood  
Quenched for a while, that from the guiltless blood  
His Honour might not yet a stain receive  
First hasting to the cave, he there doth leave  
Those injured habits, which by him were meant  
For the betrayers of the innocent.  
This done, that he even from suspicion might  
Secure his guilt, before the wasted night  
Looks pale at the approach of day, he flies  
To th' distant Army, there securely lies,  
Till all those black productions of his brain  
Now ripening to perfection should attain  
Maturity, and in the Court appear  
In their most horrid dress, knowing the fear  
Of the distracted City soon would call  
Him, and his Army, to preve●t the fall  
Of such distracting dangers as might be  
Attendants on th'eclipse of Majesty.  
The End of the Third Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fifth Book. CANTO IU.  
The Argument.  

I.  
Now, as if that great Engineer of ill,  
Accursed Almanzor, had accomplished all  
Those black designs, which are ordaiaed to fill  
The Spartan Annals, by his Prince's fall:   

II.  
With secret spite, yet such as seemed to be  
From an advised Protector of the State,  
Pharonnida's ill fate assisting, he  
Toward her destruction prosecutes his hate.   
THat dismal Night which in the dark records  
Of story, yet so much of fate affords  
In the Morean Annals, had to Day  
Resigned its reign, whose Eastern beams display  
Their morning-beauties, by whose welcome light  
The early Courtier, tired with tedious night,  
Rises to meet expected triumphs, in  
Their Prince's nuptials, which so long had been  
The joyful business of their thoughts, that now  
Sallying to action, they're instructed how  
To court observance from the studied pain  
Of best inventions, by attractive gain  
Joined to the itch of ostentative art,  
Were thither drawn from each adjacent part.  
In this swelled torrent of expected mirth  
Which all conclude must make this morning birth  
To future Ages celebrated by  
An annual triumph, the disparity  
Of passion (sorrow) first breaks forth among  
The slain Epirot's followers, who so long  
Had missed their master, that they now begin  
To doubt his safety, every place had been  
By strict enquiry searched, to which they knew  
Either affection or employment drew  
His frequent visits; but with an effect  
So vain, their care served only to detect  
Their love, not him its object, who might have  
Lain till corruption sought itself a grave,  
Had not an early Forester, so near  
The place approached, that maugre all that fear  
Alleged to stop a full discovery, he  
Beheld so much as taught him how to free  
His friends from further fruitless searches, in  
Discovering what beneath their fears had been.  
In sorrow, such as left no power to vent  
Its symptoms, but a deep astonishment  
Th'amazed Messenians, whom a sad belief  
Deprived of hope, did entertain their grief,  
Whose swift infection to communicate  
Their murdered Prince, as if pale death kept state  
Clad in the crimson robes of blood, is to  
The City brought, where whilst the public view  
In busy murmurs spread her sable wings,  
Pale terror to the Court, griefs centre, brings  
The dreadful truth, which some officious Lord  
Whom favour did the privilege afford  
Of easy entrance, through the guards of fear,  
In haste conveys t'assault the Prince's ear.  
With such a silence as did seem to show  
unwelcome news is in its entrance slow,  
Entered the room, he's with soft pace unto  
The bed approached, whose curtains when withdrew  
Discovered horror in the dismal dress  
Of death appears; freed from the slow distress  
Of Age (that coward tyrant) which ne'er shows  
His strength till man wants vigour to oppose  
Through deaths dark gates fled to the gloomy shade,  
Whose fear, or hope, not knowledge doth invade  
Our fancies yet, he man's material part  
There only sees; which form, whose heavenly art  
Tunes motion intoth' faculties of life,  
Had now forsook the elemental strife  
Which had so long at concord aimed, was now  
Silenced in death, on his majestic brow  
No awful frown did sit, the blood's retreat  
From life and action left his cheeks the seat  
Of deaths cold guest, which summoned by his fate  
There in a pale and ghastly horror sat.  
Whilst the astonished Courtier did behold  
This with such trembling, as when graves unfold,  
Their Doom-dayes curtains, sinful bodies shall  
Rise from their urns, eternally to fall;  
His stay, caused from restrictive fear, had drew  
In more Spectators, to whose wand'ring view  
This ghastly object when opposed had struck  
So swift a tertor, that their fears forsook  
The safe retreats of Reason, seeing life  
Had now concluded all the busy strife  
Of nature's conflicts by delivering those  
Time-shaken Forts unto more powerful foes,  
Outcries in vain attempts for pity to  
Scale heaven, whose ear, when from their prayers withdrew  
The Court (now of her royal head bereft)  
In a still calm of hopeless sorrow left.  
Infectious grief, disdaining now to be  
Confined within the brief Stenography  
Of first Discoverers, spreads itself among  
The City herd, whose rude unsteady throng  
Raised grief (which in the mourning Court did dwell  
In such a silence as an Anch'rites Cell  
Ne'er knew a heavier solitude) into  
Exalted outcries whose loud call had drew  
From their neglected arts so many, that  
What first was choler, now being kindled at  
Their rage, like humours grown adust had been  
The open breach to let rebellion in;  
Had not the wiser Nobles, which did know  
That vulgar passions will to tumult grow  
When backed with power, by a new modelled form  
Of counsel soon allayed this rising storm.  
Their tears (those fruitless sacrifices to  
Unactive grief, wiped off whilst they did view  
The State's distempered body, to supply  
The wants of that departed Majesty,  
Which when their Prince from Life's horizon fell  
Fled from their view, before report should tell  
This fatal story to the Princess, they  
A Council call, by whose advice she may  
Whilst floating in this Sea of sorrow be  
Saved from those unseen rocks, where treachery  
Rebellions subtle Engineer might sit  
To wrack the weakness of a female wit;  
Which, though in her such that it might have been  
The whole world's pilot, could, since clouded in  
Such a tempestuous Sea of passions, see  
No Star that might her safe director be.  
A Messenger whose sad observant wit  
By age allayed seemed a conveyer fit  
For such important business, with the news  
Hasts towards the Princess, whom whilst fear pursues  
On wings of pity, being arrived within  
The Palace, he, as that alone had been  
The only feat where rigid sorrow took  
Her fixed abode, beholds each servants look  
Obscured with grief, through who's dark-shades whilst he  
Searches the cause, the strange variety  
Explains itself, as families that have  
Led their protecting Ruler to the grave,  
whose loss they in a heedless sorrow mourn  
So long, till care doth to distraction turn:  
Her servants sat each wildly looking on  
The other, till even sense itself was gone  
In mourning wonder, whose wild flight to stay  
Its cause, they to the pitying Lord display  
In such a tone, as whilst it did detect  
The Princess absence, showed their own neglect.  
When this he'ad heard, with such a sympathy  
Of sorrow as erected grief to be  
The mourning Monarch of his thoughts, to those  
Returned that sent him, he that transcript shows  
Of this obscure original, the flight  
O' th' absent Princess, whilst the veil of night  
Obscured her passage, tells: but questioned how,  
With whom, or whether knowledge did allow  
No satisfaction, all inquiry gained  
From her amazed attendants but explained  
Their grief, whose troubled rivulet flowed in  
To that vast Ocean where before they'd been  
By sorrow shipwrecked in the general flood  
Mixed, wants a language to be understood  
In a peculiar character, and so  
Conjoined makes up one universal wo.  
Only, as if love knew alone the art  
That taught his followers how to mourn apart,  
Sad, sweet Orlinda, whose calm innocence  
Had fostered passion at her health's expense,  
Whilst wet with grief's oreflowing springs, she to  
Her brother's ghost did pay soft natures due  
In sorrow of such sad complexion, that  
Others might lose their own to wonder at;  
Yet when (as in the margint placed) she hears  
Amindor lost, with new supplies of tears  
Grief sallying forth, as if to be betrayed  
Love now did fear, he draws the bashful Maid  
From those that did the mourning consort keep  
Where she unseen for love's decease doth weep,  
Frail woman's faith, and man's neglect doth blame,  
And softly then sighs out Amindors' name;  
Her lost Amindor, whose supposed disdain  
Destroyed those spirits grief could ne'er have slain.  
And now before that powers decay engage  
To many hands in a vindictive rage  
The wise supporters of the State to stay  
Increasing factions (which can ne'er obey  
Lest fear commands) unto Almanzor send  
A mandate which enjoins him to attend  
Their Counsels in this interregnum, till  
Their joint consent had found out one to fill  
The empty throne: which summons prompted by  
A care which they interpret loyalty,  
Though truly called ambition, he obeyed  
With such a speed as Love would fly to aid  
A ravished Lady, having to impede  
His march no more than what his care could lead  
Even with a singes speed, yet that a strength  
Enough to make his will confine the length  
Of their desires, who soon in Council sit  
But to bewail th' abortion of their wit.  
The frighted City having entered in  
A mourning march, as if his thoughts had been  
A stranger to the sad events of this  
So dismal night, he by relation is  
Informed of each particular, which he  
Seeming to hear in griefs extremity,  
From silent sorrow which appeared to wait  
On still attention, his prepared deceit  
Disguised in rage appears, a rage which in  
Its active flight to find what hearts had been  
Defiled with thoughts of such foul crimes, did seem  
So full of zeal, its actions did redeem  
The lost report of loyalty in those  
His former crimes made his most constant foes.  
By guarded gates, and watchful parties that  
Surround the walls, till th' people frighted at  
Their fury, shrink from public throngs, they now  
Assured of safety, whilst enquiring how  
Hell hatched these monsters, whose original  
Whilst searching, they by the consent of all  
His best Physicians, whose experienced skill  
From outward signs, knew what internal ill  
Death struck the Prince, informed the cause could be  
From nought but such a subtle enemy  
As poison, which when every accident  
They had examined, all conclude was sent  
Mixed with that cordial whose concealed receipt  
Unknown to art, their envy termed the bait  
To tempt the easy Prince's faith into  
That net which death allured by treason, drew.  
With power from this embraced suspicion sprung  
Almanzor, who not envies spotted tongue  
Durst call profane, though rudely forcing those  
Weak gates, which need no greater strength t'oppose  
Unclean intruders, than the reverence they,  
Enforced by zeal, did with Religion pay  
Unto that places sanctity, which he  
Contemning, ere the wronged society  
Expecting such injurious visits, in  
Rude fury entering, those whose power had been  
Employed by noble pity to attend  
The suffering Princess, in such haste did send  
Them to her close and dark abodes, that now  
Their doubts confirm'st, they're only studying how  
To shun that danger which informing fear  
Falsely persuades, towards them alone drew near.  
Which dark suspicion, ere unclouded, by  
Seizing on him whose innocence durst fly  
To no retreat, the Royal fugitives  
Back to the vault where first they entered, drives.  
Now at the great'st antipathy to Day  
The silent earth oppressed with Midnight lay  
Vested in clouds, black as they had been sent  
To be the whole world's mourning monument;  
When through the Caves' damp womb, conducted by  
A doubtful light that scarce informed the eye  
To find out those unhaunted paths, they in  
A faint assurance, with soft pace begin  
To sally forth, where unsuspected, they  
Are seized by guards that in close ambush lay:  
Which ere amazement could give action leave  
To seek for safety, did their hopes deceive  
By close restraint, awed by whose power, they're to  
Almanzor brought, who from that object drew  
Such joy as fills usurpers when they see  
Wronged Princes struggling with captivity.  
From hence in such disdainful silence led  
As taught their fear, from just suspicion bred,  
To tremble at some unknown ill, about  
That sober time when Lights small lamps go out  
At the approach of Days bright glories, brought  
Back to the Court, they there not long had sought  
Their sorrows sad original, before  
A Court convened of such whose power had boar  
Whilst (Gods own choice) a Monastery, had lent  
Their dictates law, the weight of government,  
They hither called by summons that did sound  
Like bold rebellion, in sad omen found  
More than they feared; A mourning train of Lords  
Placed round a black tribunal, that affords  
To the spectators penetrated eye  
A dismal horror clothed in majesty.  
Like hieroglyphics pointing to that fate  
Which must ensue, all yet in silence sat  
A dreadful silence, such as unto weak  
Beholders seemed to threaten when they speak,  
Death and destruction dictates, when they saw  
Their Princess entered, as if rigid Law  
To loyal duty let the sceptre fall  
In an obedient reverence raised, they all  
Lowly salute her, but that compliment  
To bribe their pity, fear in vain had spent;  
When all resuming now their seats, command  
The Royal captives, whose just cause did stand  
On no defence but unknown truth to be  
Summoned to th' bar, where that they first might see  
What rigour on the royal blood was shown,  
From no unjust conspiracy had grown,  
A sable curtain from their hearses drawn  
Betrays her eyes then in the sickly dawn  
Of grief grown dim, unto that horrid place  
Where they met death drawn in her father's face,  
By whom now turned into well-modeled clay,  
Fitted for's tomb the slain Epirot lay.  
At this, as if some over-venturous look  
For temperate rays, destructive fire had took  
In at her souls receiving portals, all  
Life's functions ceased, sorrow at once le's fall  
The burden of so many griefs, which in  
A deathlike slumber had forgotten been  
Till humane thoughts obliterated by  
The wish● conversions of eternity  
Oppressed no more, had not in●urious haste  
Before this conflict could those spirits waste  
Which had, to shun passions external strife,  
Fled to the primum mobile of life,  
Recalled with them her sorrows to attend  
Their nimblest motions, which too fast did spend  
Her strength, to suffer weakness to obey  
The Courts intentions of a longer stay.  
From ruffled passions which her soul oppressed,  
By the soft hand of recollecting rest  
Stroked to a calm, which settled reason in  
Her troubled throne; by those that first had been  
Her guards, the Princess (that fair pattern, whence  
Men drew the height of humane excellence)  
Is now returned, to let her proud foes see  
That the bright rays of magnanimity  
Though envy like th'ungrateful moon do strive  
To hide that sun, except what's relative  
Ne'er knows eclipse, the darkness taking birth  
From what's below, whilst that removed from earth,  
Her clear unclouded conscience ever stays  
Amongst bright virtues universal rays.  
The mourning Court (those ministers of fate)  
In expectation of their prisoners sat,  
They now appear in those disguises which  
They first were took, being habits, though not rich  
Enough to gild their rare perfections, yet  
Such as did seem by sorrow made to fit  
Their present sufferings; both the men clothed in  
Monastic robes, black as their threads had been  
Spun from Peruvian wool; the women clad  
Like mournful Votaries, showed so sweetly sad,  
As if their virtues which injurious fate  
Did yet conceal, striving t' anticipate  
The flights of time, had to th' external sense  
Showed these as emblems of their innocence.  
But love, nor pity, though they both did here  
Within their Judge's sternest looks appear,  
Durst plead for favour; their indictments read  
So guilty sound, that those whose hearts even bled,  
Disdained their eyes should weep, since justice did  
In such foul crimes mercy as sin forbid.  
Yet more to clear what circumstance had made  
Level with reason, from th' approaching shade  
Of death redeemed, that Lord whose wounds had been  
But slumbers to recover safety in  
When the Messenian murdered was, did now  
Declare as far as reason could allow  
The eyes to judge, those habits which they then  
Did wear the same which clothed the murderers when  
His Prince was slain; which open proof appears  
So full of guilt it stops her friends kind fears  
Ere raised to hope, and in appearance shows  
A guilt, which all but pity overgrows.  
The vexed Epirots who for comfort saw  
Revenge appearing in the form of Law  
Retired, to feed their spleen with hope until  
Th' extent of Justice should their vengeance fill;  
When now by accusations that denied  
Access to pity, for a Parricide  
The Princess questioned, whose too-weak defence  
Being but the unseen guards of innocence,  
Submits to censure; yet to show that all  
Those scattered pearls, which from her eyes did fall  
Dropped not t' attempt their charity, but show  
That no injurious storm could overslow  
Her world of Reason, which exalted stood  
Above the surface of the spacious stood,  
Her tears for grief, not guilt, being shed, whilst in  
The robes of magnanimity, not sin  
Grown impudent, her brave resolved soul sat  
Unshaken in this Hyrocane of sate.  
To meet her calm (which like religion dressed  
Doth all become, but female virtues best)  
The rough Amindor, whose discoloured face  
Anger did more than native beauty grace,  
Since justly raised, disdaining thus to be  
By a Plebeian base captivity  
Forced to submit his innocence unto  
Their doubtful test, had from his anger drew  
A ruin swifter than their hate intends,  
Had not his rage, whilst it toward danger bends,  
Been taught by her example to exclude  
Vain passions with a Princely fortitude,  
Whose useful aid (like those good works which we  
For comforts call in death's necessity)  
Brought all their better Angels to defend  
Them from those terrors which did death attend.  
In busy whispers, which discovered by  
Their doubtful looks the thoughts variety,  
Long in sad silence sat the Court, until  
Those noiseless streams of fancy which did fill  
Each several breast united by consent  
Want only now a tongue so impudent  
As durst condemn their Sovereign, which being in  
Theumantius found, a Lord whose youth had been  
By favour nursed, till power's wild beast grown rude  
Repays his Fost'rer with ingratitude.  
This bold, bad man, Loves most unhappy choice,  
From flatteries Treble now exalts his voice  
Without the mean of an excuse, into  
The Laws loud Base; and what those feared to do  
That had been favoured less, that black decree  
Pronounced, which discords all the harmony  
Of subject fear, and sovereign love, by what  
Succeeding ages justly trembled at  
Whilst innocent, but have of late been grown  
So bad to show such monsters of their own.  
This sentence past, which knew no more allay  
Of mercy, than what lets their judgements stay  
From following life to deaths obscure retreat,  
Till twenty nights had made their days complete,  
The Court breaks up; yet ere from public view  
To close restraint the Royal captives drew,  
Grant them this favour from their rigid laws,  
That if there durst, to vindicate their cause,  
In that contracted span of time appear  
Any whose forward valour durst endear  
The people's love and prayers, so much to be  
Their Champion, that his victory should free  
Them from that dooms strict rigour; to oppose  
Which brave Attempter, they Almanzor chose  
(Since high command that honour did afford  
To him alone) to wield the answering sword.  
Now near departing, whilst the Cyprian in  
A brave disdain, which for submissive sin  
Looks on an answer, as his haste would show  
An anger that did scorn to stoop so low  
To strike with threats, stands silent, whilst that she  
Whose temper heaven had made too calm to be  
By rage transported, with a soul unmoved  
By stormy passions, thus their sin reproved.  
Should I (my Lords) here with a female haste  
Discharge my passions, 'twere (perhaps) to waste  
My prayers, or threats, whilst one you would not fear,  
Nor th'other pity: But when heaven shall clear  
This curtained truth, wrapped in whose cloudy night,  
Unjustly you, from my unquestioned right  
By birth, obedience, into faction stray,  
Then (though too late) untimely sorrow may  
Strive by repentance to expunge these stains  
Cast on your honour. These exhausted veins,  
Fixed eyes, pale cheeks, deaths dismal trophies, in  
This royal face I now could not have seen  
With a less sorrow than had served to call  
Me to attend him, had not the rude fall  
Of your unjustice, like those dangerous cures  
Performed by tutning into Calentures  
Dull Lethargies, upon my heart laid hold  
In such a flame of passion, as the cold  
Approach of death wants power to quench until  
You add that crime to this preceding ill.  
Yet (though no fear can prompt my scorn to crave  
A subjects mercy for myself) to save  
This Noble Stranger, whose just acts being crossed  
By misconstruction, have their titles lost,  
I shall become your suppliant, lest there be  
A sin contracted by his serving me;  
And only in such noble ways as might  
Unveil themselves to th' sun's Meridian light;  
Sure he unjustly suffers, which may cause  
You want more swords to vindicate your Laws  
Then his you late elected to make good  
Your votes, ere scarce cleansed of that loyal blood  
He in rebellion shed; but I am now  
Too near my fatal period to allow  
Disturbing passion any place within  
My peaceful soul: what ere his crimes have been  
In public war, or private treason, may  
Kind Heaven, when with th' injustice of this day  
Those shall be strictly questioned, to prevent  
Their doom, conceal them in the large extent  
Of mercy's wings, which there may prove so kind  
To you, though here I can no justice find.  
This spoken in a garb that did detect  
A sorrow which was ripened to neglect,  
She silent stands, whilst through the thick resort  
Of thronged Spectators, toward the rising Court  
Orlinda comes, with such a haste as showed  
That service she by Love's allegiance owed;  
Love, which had sorrows sable wings out-fled  
To mourn the living, not lament the dead;  
Come where her fears (now near lost) object she  
Within the shadow of the Grave might see  
By sentence shut, neglecting death that lay  
In ambush there her reason to betray  
To hate, when by the false informing Law,  
Her Friend she as her brother's murderer saw  
In actions such as Scythian Tyrants feel  
Some softness from, she that ne'er used to kneel  
Too aught but heaven, a lowly suppliant falls  
Before the Court, from whose stern breasts she calls  
So much of sorrow as perhaps had struck  
Them all with horror, if a sudden look  
Obliquely on her murdered brother cast,  
Had not ere Love assaulted with her last  
And powerfullest prayers, whilst hot with action in  
A cool retreat of spirits, silenced been.  
She fainting fallen, as an addition to  
Their former grief, is from the throng withdrew  
Into the free untainted air, where by  
Assisting Friends which gently did apply  
Their needful aid, heat, which was then grown slack  
In Nature's work, antipathy calls back  
To beauty's frontiers, where like bashful light  
It in a blush meets the Spectators sight  
But such a one, as ere full blown is by  
Her Friends disasters forced again to fly  
Beneath those clouds of grief, whose swelling pride  
Spread by report, did now not only hide  
The Court or City, but to bear a part  
Of that sad load, summons each Subject's heart.  
Whilst now the Prisoners, ere the people's love  
To anger turn, the active Guards remove  
To still the clamorous multitude, who swayed  
By various passions, did whilst each obeyed  
Opinions dictates, but in darkness rove  
At shadowed truth, whence now they boldly strove  
To pluck the vail from Declarations that  
Contained those falsehoods, which whilst wondering at  
They wept to force upon their faith, are sent  
Through th' Lands each Town, & Army's Regiment;  
By which Almanzor, who attempted in  
This plot to join security with sin,  
Doubting if ere this story reach his ear,  
Argalia might their combatant appear,  
Besides those stains which common fame did take  
For sins just debts, slily attempts to shake  
The heaven-erected fabric of his love  
By closer engines, such as seemed to move  
On noble pity, which with grief engrossed  
That faith which envy in disdain had lost.  
Black rumour, on the wings of raised report  
Flying in haste, had soon attained the Court  
Of the amazed Aetolian Prince, who hears  
The dreadful story with such doubtful fears  
As shook his noble soul, but not into  
An easy faith, each circumstance was true,  
He knew Almanzor's villainy to be  
Of that extent so foul a progeny,  
As all those horrid murders might from thence  
Take easy birth: but when the innocence  
Of's virtuous Princess, and his honoured Friend  
The noble Cyprian Prince, come to contend  
With oft confirmed report, that strikes a deep  
And solemn grief, yet such as must not keep  
A firm possession in his soul, until  
A further inquisition either kill  
His yet unfainting hopes, or raise them to  
Joy by confirming those reports untrue.  
The End of the Fourth Canto.   

PHARONNIDA. The Fifth Book. CANTO V.  
The Argument.  

I.  
Through royal blood to levelly that dark way  
Which Rebels pass unto the injured throne,  
Pharonnida is now condemned to pay  
A debt for crimes that none durst call her own.   

II.  
When near the last step, brave Argalia, who  
In close disguise truths secrets had betrayed,  
When most did doubt 'twas now too late to sue  
To heaven for pity, brings a timely aid.   
IF on those vanished Heroes that are fled  
Through the unknown dark Chasma's of the dead,  
To rest in regions so remote from hence  
'twixt them and life there's no intelligence,  
When ere thou look'st through times dim optics, then  
Brave emulation of those braver men,  
Rouses (that ray of heaven) thy soul to be  
A sharer in their fame's eternity;  
Thou'st then a genius fit to entertain  
A Muse's flight, which may be raised again  
To sing thy actions, when there's left no more  
Of thee, but what by life, whilst passing o'er  
Nature's short stage, had either scattered been  
By careless youth, or firmly planted in  
Maturer age, whose wasted talon spent,  
(Those were his Friends, this is his monument)  
Is all, except some Muse thy life records,  
That to thy worth, th' unthankful world affords.  
But if thy uninspired soul do bear  
A lower sail, which flagging with the care  
Of humid pleasures, ne'er is swelled into  
Sublimer thoughts, than such as only view  
Earth for its object, which ne'er yet did lend  
Her favourites more than what they here do spend  
T' improve her barren wants, may none rehearse  
Thy name (beneath the dignity of verse)  
But trivial flatterers, such as strive to gain  
Thy favour from Ephemeras of the brain  
Unsalted jests, pleased at whose painted fire  
I leave fond thee in vapour to expire,  
Whilst from thy living shadow I return  
To crown the dust in brave Argalia's urn.  
From common fame (that wild impostor) he  
Had often heard what Love denied should be  
For truth admitted, his Pharonnida  
Accused for sins which envy strove to draw  
Objects for heavens severest wrath, and now  
Ere his considerate judgement would allow  
Report for real, secret Messengers  
To Corinth sends, who ill informed, transfers  
His further trouble, in confirming what  
While others wept for, he transported at  
So sad a change in her whose virtue had  
Inflamed his thoughts, by passion near unclad  
His soul of all his robes of ●lesh, which now  
So loosely hung, as if she practised how  
To strip herself, should unexpected death  
To heavens hard course, call forth the nimble breath.  
Could earth here conquer, or had it within  
The power of whatsoever is mortal been  
T' have wrought disorders of amazement where  
The noble soul such true consent did bear  
With the harmonious Angels, he in all  
His acts like them appears, or (ere his fall)  
Perhaps like man, that he could only be  
Distinguished from some hollowed hierarchy,  
By being clothed in the specific vail  
Of flesh and blood, this grief might then prevail  
Over his perfect temper; but he bears  
These weights, as if unfelt, on his soul wears  
The sable robes of sorrow, whilst his cheek  
Is dressed in scarle● smiles; no frown his sleek  
And even front contract, like to a slow  
And quiet stream his obscured thoughts did flow  
With greater depths than could be fathomed by  
The beamy lines of a judicious eye.  
Whilst those good Angels which fond men call wit,  
Reformed by age, did all in Council sit,  
To steer those thoughts by which he did attend  
Pharonnida's escape, they to this end  
At length reduced his Councils, that he must  
To succour her leave grovelling in the dust  
His Kingdom, which being by domestic strife  
Late wounded, was but newly rubbed to life:  
Yet since that there to her redemption lay  
In all the progress of his thoughts no way  
Less full of danger, such of's Lords as he  
Honoured for age, and praised for loyalty,  
Called to a secret Council, he discovers  
His fixed resolves, which they, though now no Lovers,  
With such consenting souls did hear, that though  
They knew his danger might even fear outgrow,  
They to oppose that scourge of cowards brings  
His vows, his sacred vows, those sceptered Kings  
Which justly rule the conscience, that awed by  
Usurping fear submits to Tyranny.  
Their first proposals, whence their judgement sought  
To hide his absence, to conclusion brought,  
They thence proceed to levelly him a way  
Through that thick swarm of Enemies that lay  
Circling the walls, where reason stays a while  
In various censure, ere 't could reconcile  
Their differing judgements, but at length in this  
(As that which in this dangers dark abiss  
Seems to lend fear most of the helpful light  
Of hope) concludes, that when succeeding night  
With strength of age was grown so gravely stayed,  
That dark designs feared not to be betrayed  
By th' wanton twilight, he in close disguise,  
Whilst some of's troops diverted by surprise  
His watchful foes, might pass their guards, which done,  
Their care might be, with's surther march begun.  
In dismal darkness, that black throne of fear,  
Nights silent Empress, awed the Hemisphere;  
When now Argalia's ready troops, with slow  
And noiseless marches issued through their low  
Close Salliports, are swiftly rallied by  
Such as had long taught valour how to die  
For honour's rescue; Captains that had been  
From youth's first bud, till age was reverenced in  
Her honoured scars, such strict disciples to  
Wars hardest precepts, that their fame out-grew  
Their power, which that had so authentic made  
Where fear was scorned, they were for love obeyed▪  
By these brave Hero's, which had often led  
Armies to sleep in honours purple bed,  
The Prince assisted, was with secret haste,  
By ways where fear no Centinel had placed,  
Drawn near the Leaguer, which th' alarm took  
From a stormed Fort, had with such speed forsook  
Their huts, that haste which was intended to  
Preserve, being now to wild confusion grew,  
Helps to destroy: In undistinguished sounds,  
Which not inform, but frighted sense confounds  
With wild amazement, the unnoted words  
Even of command are lost; no ear affords  
Room for advice, nor the most serious eye  
A place for order; Ensigns vainly fly  
Since unperceived through the dark air, which in  
A storm ne'er knew more tumult than had been  
Since first their fear on this alarm fled  
From Reason, through the troubled Leaguer spread.  
In this loud horror, whilst they need no lamp  
To guide them more than their own flaming Camp,  
His frighted foes (fled from their quarter) lend  
The Prince some hope this sudden charge might end  
Their slow-paced siege; yet since approaching day  
Persuading haste, denies his longer stay,  
The power to those Commanders left, which he  
For valour knew might force from victory  
Unwilling laurels, though their judgement such,  
Those hallowed wreaths they ne'er durst rashly touch '  
He leaves (when first his sword, which none did spare  
Within its reach, had of his being there  
Left bloody marks) the conquered foes, to find  
Out sterner foes in his afflicted mind,  
Which since usurping doubt with peaceful love  
For empire strove, taught passion how to move  
In spheres so differing from his reasons right  
Ascension, that his cares protracted night  
From this oblique position caused, had made  
His sorrow tedious, as those nights which shade  
Cold Arctic regions, when the absent sun  
Doth underneath th'antarctic tropic run.  
This passage forced through his obstructive foes,  
That now the treacherous day might not disclose  
Him whilst unguarded, to their view that might  
In larger troops pursue a base flight  
Through deep dark paths, which ne'er to th'sun had shown  
Their uncouth shades, being to all unknown  
Save neighbouring rurals, he conducted by  
A faithful guide, directs his liberty  
Towards stately Corinth, near whose confines ere  
Six morning dews had cooled the hemisphere,  
Arrived in safety, that kind heaven might bless  
His future actions with desired success  
To seek to them, he first sought those, that in  
The wane of's blood had life's supporters been,  
Those holy Hermit's to whose art he owed  
For life, next heaven which first that gift bestowed.  
Come to their quiet Cell, where all receive  
Him with a wonder that did hardly leave  
A room for welcome, till their fear had in  
A full relation of his fortune been  
Changed for as much of sanguine mirth as they  
Could know, that had Religions cool allay  
To check delight, he being retired with him  
Whose first discoveries in his fortunes dim  
Imperfect light directed him to know  
His royal offspring, lets his language flow  
With so much freedom as discovers what,  
Whilst he by active war was aiming at  
His Kingdom's safety, called him thence to save  
Sweet virtue from an ignominious grave.  
The fatal story heard by him, whose love  
Fixed by religion, passion could not move,  
Although he pitied all th'afflicted, to  
More softness than what had its offspring drew  
From heaven's strict precepts which are then misspent  
When easy man mistakes the innocent:  
Since what permits hypocrisy to win  
Remorse, by mercy doth but cherish sin.  
Which to avoid, ere his consent approve  
Of the design, neglecting all which Love  
Prompted by pity could allege to draw  
Him to the combat, though he in it saw  
Nought to defend but innocence, since in  
That shape deluded, charity hath been  
Too oft deceived, that his victorious sword  
Might not but where fair justice could afford  
victory be drawn, he, like a Pharos placed  
'Mongst rocks of doubt, thus rectifies his haste.  
Take heed, brave Prince, that in this doubtful way  
'Twixt love and honour thy bright virtues stray  
Not from Religion's latitude, into  
More dangerous stations, Reasons slender clew  
Is here too short to guide thee, and may in  
Its conduct but obliquely lead to sin.  
Be cautious then, and rashly venture not  
On unknown depths, where valour seems begot  
By vain presumption: Mortal beauty, that  
Imperfect type of heaven, though wondered at,  
Yet may not be so much adored to make  
Our passions heavens directing road mistake.  
Though thy affections were legitimate  
As man's first choice, since in that happy state  
Of innocence frail woman then found out  
A way to fall, still let thy reason doubt  
The same deceit, since that affected she  
Which thou adorest, yet wears mortality;  
A garment which since ma● first wore, hath been  
But once cast off without some spots of sin.  
Yet know, my council strives not to prevent  
Thy swords assisting of the innocent;  
As much of mercy on neglect being spilt,  
As there's got vengeance from presumptuous guilt  
Only before thy valour dares to tread  
This rubick path, whose slippery steps have led  
So oft to ruin, let Religion be  
Thy prompter unto so much policy,  
As may secure thy conscience; which to do,  
Claim my assistance as thy virtues due.  
The grateful Prince with lowly looks had paid  
His thankful offerings, when, that promised aid  
Might not fall short of expectation, he  
Whose words (like vows that hold affinity  
With heaven) breathed nought but constant truth, did thus  
Proceed towards action; whilst (loved Prince) with us  
Of this poor Covent, you, by wounds restrained  
From action lived, you know that what's contained  
In our calm doctrine, gives us leave to be  
So intimate with each society,  
No secret, though masked in the clouds of sin,  
Flies those discoveries which informs us in  
Their last confessions; by which means you may  
Know whether justice calls your sword to pay  
These bloody offerings as a victim to  
Th'appeasing of an inward virtue due.  
By this advice instructed to convince  
What love suggests, the apprehensive Prince,  
Since this includes nothing but what's too just  
To disobey, although he all mistrust  
Of her like sin avoids, consents to be  
Ruled by his Council, whose assistance he  
So oft successful found; which, that delay  
(That slow-paced sin) might not obstruct the way  
With times too oft neglected loss, he now  
So fast toward action hastes, they could allow  
The night scarce time to steal a dark retreat,  
Ere having left that melancholy seat,  
Devotions dark retiring place, he goes  
To see how much her frowns did discompose  
That City's dress, of whom he'd ne'er a sight  
Before, but when 'twas polished with delight.  
His Arms (bright Honour's burnished robes) into  
Such weeds as showed him to the public view  
A course Monastic, changed, attended by  
His aged friend, soon as the morning's eye  
Adorned the East, the prosperous Prince begun  
His pious journey, which, before the sun  
Blushed in the West, found a successful end  
In clouded Corinth, where arrived, they spend  
The hours of the succeeding night to find  
How, in that factious troubled sea, inclined  
The City stood, whose shallow sons dare vent  
By nothing but their tongues, that discontent  
Their hands might cure, were not those useful parts  
Restrained from action by unmanly hearts,  
Which being at once with grief and fear oppressed,  
Durst do no more but pity the distressed;  
Which gentle passion, since so general, lends  
Some light of hope to her enquiring friends.  
To usher in that dismal day, whose light  
Designed to lead into eternal night  
As much of beauty as did ere give place  
To death, the morning shows her gloomy face  
Wrapped up in clouds, whose heavy vapours had  
Hung heaven in black, when, to perform the sad  
And serious office of confessors to  
Those royal sufferers, whom harsh fates pursue  
To deaths dark confines, through their guard of foes  
Argalia and his grave assistant goes;  
Where he whose love to neither did surmount  
His zeal, to take the Cyprians last account  
Himself addressed, whilst his kind passions lead  
Argalia from Pharonnida, to read  
Her life's last story, made authentic by  
The near approach of her eternity.  
Entered the room, which to his startled ●ight  
Appeared like sorrow sepulchred in night,  
So dismal sad, so silent, that the cold  
Retreat of death, the grave, did ne'er unfold  
A heavier object, by a sickly light  
Which was even then to th' artificial night  
That filled the room resigning'ts reign, he saw  
Griefs fairest draught, divine Pharonnida,  
Amidst her tears, fallen like a full-blown flower,  
Whose polished leaves oreburthened with a shower,  
Drops from their beauties in the pride of day '  
To deck the earth, so sadly pining lay  
The pensive Princess, whom an ecstasy  
O● passion led to practise how to die  
In such abstracted contemplations, that  
Angels forsook their thrones to wonder at.  
Wet with those tears, in whose Elixir she  
Was bathing of the Lilies nursery,  
Her bloodless cheeks; her trembling hand sustaned  
A book, which what heavens mercy hath ordained  
For a support to humane frailty in  
Storms of affliction, lay; which, as she'd been  
Now so well in repentant lectures read,  
That faith was on the wings of knowledge fled  
To meditation, her unactive grief  
Lets softly fall, whilst Time, wise nature's thief,  
That all might look like sorrows swarthy night,  
Is stealing forth of the neglected Light;  
Whose sullen flame, as it would sympathise  
With those quenched beams that once adorned her eyes  
After a feeble blaze that spoke its strife  
But vain, in silence weeps away its life.  
Come to behold this beauteous monument  
Of mourning passion, his great spirits spent  
On love and wonder, the astonished Prince  
Here silent stands, valour could not convince  
His wild amazement: To behold her lie  
By rigid laws restrained from liberty,  
To whom his soul was captive, troubles all  
His reasons guards: But when, how she must fall  
From beauteous youth, and virtuous life, to be  
One of the graves obscure society,  
Must fall no Martyr, whose lamented death  
Grows pity's object, but depart with breath  
'Mongst ignominious clouds of guilt, that must  
Stick an eternal odium on her dust;  
That thought transports him from his temper to  
Passions, in which he had forgot to do  
His Priestly office, and, in rage as high  
As ever yet inflamed humanity,  
Sent him to actions, whose attempt had been  
The road his valour must have perished in,  
Had not her sorrows agony forsook  
The Princess, by whose first unsteady look  
He, being as far as his disguise gave leave,  
Discovered, is invited to receive  
Those last confessions, in whose freedom she  
Seeks by absolving comforts how to free  
Her soul of all which a religious fear  
Like spots on her white conscience made appear.  
Having from her unburthened soul learned how  
To ease his own, the Priestly Prince had now  
As far as bold humanity durst dive  
Into remission, heaven's prerogative,  
Pronounced that pardon for whose seal there stood  
The sin-polluted worlds redeeming blood:  
By which blessed voice raised from what did appear  
Like sorrow, till her faith had banished fear,  
The Princess in such gentle calms of joy  
As souls that wear their bodies but to cloy  
Celestial ●lights can feel, to entertain  
Her fatal doom with a resolved disdain  
Of death prepares, whilst he whom heaven to her  
Had made their mercies happy Messenger,  
Forsaking her, repairs to him that had  
With the same hand the Cyprians thoughts unclad:  
By whom informed, how that in their defence  
His sword protected nought but innocence,  
Armed with those blessings which so just a cause  
Proclaimed his due, he secretly withdraws  
To change those emblems of Religious peace,  
Monastic robes, for such as might increase  
Their joy and wonder, whose contracted fear  
Despaired to see a Combatant appear,  
Although they knew his sword defended then  
The best of causes 'gainst the worst of men.  
Whilst he prepares with near as much of speed  
As incorporeal substances that need  
But will for motion, to defend her in  
Th' assaults of death, that hour which long had been  
The dreadful expectation of those friends  
That pitied her, arrived, in sorrow ends  
Fears cold disease; those Ministers of fate,  
The props to all that's illegitimate,  
The Army, to suppress the weak essays  
Of love or pity, guarded had the ways  
By which illegal power conducted her  
From that dark room, griefs curtained Theatre,  
To be beheld upon the public stage,  
The glory, yet the scandal of the age▪  
Which two extremes met on the scaffold in  
A Princess suffering, and a people's sin:  
Which now, joined to the dreadful pomp that calls  
His Subjects to attend the funerals  
Of her loved father, whose life's virtues won  
Tears for his death, thus solemnly begun.  
Removed no further from the City than  
An hours short walk, though undertaken when  
Sol raged in Cancer might with ease convey  
Scorched travellers, a dismal temple lay  
In a dark valley, where more ancient times  
Had perpetrated those religious crimes  
Of humane offerings to those Idols that  
Their hands made, for their hearts to tremble at,  
Yet this, since now made venerable by  
Those reverend relics of antiquity,  
The Spartan Princes monuments, by those  
Of later times, though altered faith, is chose  
For their retreat, when life's extinguished glory  
Sought rest beneath a silent dormitory.  
Nor stood this fabric all alone; long since  
A Palace by some melancholy Prince  
Which hated light, or loved the darkness, built  
To please his humour, or conceal his guilt,  
So near it stood, to distant eyes which sent  
Thither their beams, it seemed one monument,  
Whose sable roof 'mongst Cypress shadows fills  
The deep dark basis of those barren hills  
With such a mournful Majesty as struck  
A terror into each beholders look,  
Awful as if some Deity had made  
That gloomy vale to be the sacred shade  
Where he chose in enigmas to relate  
The dark decrees of man's uncertain fate.  
Betwixt this temple and the City stood  
In squadrons thick as shows an ancient wood  
To distant sight, the Army, placed to be  
In this sad march their guilts security  
Whose glittering swords shone, as if drawn to light  
Days beauties to the palace of the night;  
Toward which, the prisoners, yet detained within  
The City, in this dreadful pomp begin  
Their mournful march, led by that doleful call  
By which loud war proclaims a funeral:  
Those that had been the common guards unto  
The murdered Princes, to the people's view  
Are first presented, on an ebon spear  
Each bore a scuchion, where there did appear  
The arms which once adorned those Prince's shields  
Sadly displayed within their sable fields.  
Next these, some troops whose prosperous valour in  
Their Courts had steps unto preferment been,  
Come slowly on, but slowlier followed are  
By elder Captains, such whom busy war  
Whose victories had their youth in honour died,  
As useless-now for Council laid aside:  
I' th' rear of these the Officers of State,  
Grave as they'd been of Council unto Fate,  
I' th' purple robes of royal Mourners clad,  
With heavy pace conducted in a sad  
And dismal object, two black Chariots drawn  
Like hideous night when it assaults the dawn  
In dreadful shadows, where to fright the day  
With sadder objects, on black hearses lay  
Th' Effigies of the murdered Princes, in  
Whose form those spots of treason that had been  
Fates Agents, to unravel Nature's law,  
In bloody marks the mourning people saw,  
At which sad fight from silent sorrow they  
Advanced had let external grief betray  
Their love, and loss, if not diverted by  
Succeeding objects, which assault the eye  
With what, though living, yet more terror bred.  
Then what they found for the lamented dead,  
In such a garb as sorrow strives to hide  
The hot efluviums of a sullen pride,  
Almanzor next, with slow portentous pace  
Follows the hearses, his discovered face  
So subtly died in sorrow as it had  
Strove to out-mourn the sable arms which clad  
His falser breast, whose studied treason knew  
No such disguise, as first to meet the view  
O' th' censuring people in a dress that shows  
Him by their States maturer Council chose  
'Gainst whoever durst maintain the prisoners cause  
By's valour for to vindicate their laws.  
But now, to lose these rivulets of tears  
In the vast Ocean of their grief, appears  
Their last, and most lamented object in  
The royal Captives, whose sad fate had been  
Not so disguised in attributes of guilt,  
But that the love their former virtue built  
In every breast, broke through their fear to show  
How much their duty did to sorrow ow.  
In that black train they had beheld before,  
Though full of sadness, wearied life passed o'er  
The stage of nature, is their darkest text  
To comment on, which since good men perplexed  
With life's cares are, finds less regret than now  
To living sufferers justly they allow:  
Friends though less near (since death is but that rest  
They vainly seek that are in life distressed)  
Being pitied more than those whose worst of Fate  
We have beheld destruction terminate.  
That nought might in this scene of sorrow be  
Wanting to perfect griefs solemnity  
The Kingdom's Marshal, who supported in  
His hand a sword, which glitring through a thin  
Wreathed Cipers, through the sad Spectators eye  
Struck such a terror as if shadowed by  
Death's sooty vail; conducting after goes  
Th' undaunted Cyprian, with a look that shows  
A soul whose valour was of power to light  
Such high resolves as by their splendour might  
Make death look lovely; on his upper hand  
Her sex's glory, she whose virtues scanned  
Her actions by heaven's strictest rules, the swee●  
Pharonnida, unmoved prepares to meet  
The ministers of death, her train being by  
Florenza, who must in that Tragedy  
Act her last part, sustained. The garment which  
The beauteous Princess did that day enrich  
Was black, but cut on white, o'er which the fair  
Neglected treasure of her flowing hair  
Hung loosely down; upon her head she wore  
A wreath of Lilies, almost shadowed o'er  
With purple Hyacinths, on which the stains  
Of murder yet in bloody marks remains;  
Over all this a melancholy cloud  
Of thick curled Cipers from the head did shroud  
Her to the feet, through which those spots of white  
Appeared like stars, those comforts of the night,  
When stole through scattered clouds; in her right hand  
She held a watch whose next stage should have spanned  
The minutes of her life; her left did hold  
A branch of myrtle, which as grown too old  
To live, began to wither, for defence  
O' th' falling leaves, as death and innocence  
Had both conspired to save 't; the bow was round  
In mystic wreaths of black and silver wound.  
Near to the royal Prisoners, many Peers  
Of either Kingdom, men of th' gravest years  
And loyalest hearts, did with a doleful pace  
Bring up the rear, each melancholy place  
Through which they past, being with those pensive flowers  
That wait on funerals strewed. The lofty towers  
Of chequered marble had their stately brows  
In sables bound, their pinnacles with boughs  
Of dismal Yew adorned, as if their knell  
Should next be rung, a solemn passing bell  
In every Church was toulled, whose doleful sound  
Mixed with the drum & trumpets dead march, drowned  
The people's cries, whose grief can ne'er be shown  
In 'tis native dress, till loud and clamorous grown.  
In this black pomp the mourning train had left  
The sable City, which being now bereft  
Of all her sad and solemn guests, did bear  
The emblem of an empty sepulchre,  
So full of silence, all her throng being gone  
With heavy pace to be attendants on  
Those funeral rights, which ere performed must have  
More virtue for attendants to the grave  
Then ere they could again expect to see,  
Whose hopes of life lay in minority.  
Come to the desert vale, which yet had kept  
A solitary loveliness that slept  
There in untroubled rest, a levelled green  
Chose for the Lists, which nature lodged between  
Two barren hills, upon whose bare front grew  
(Though thinly scattered) here a baleful Yew,  
And there a dismal Cypress, placed as they  
Had only chose that station to display  
The people's passions, who with eyes fixed in  
Full orbs of tears, ere this had sorrowing seen  
The pitied prisoners, to those Scaffolds brought  
Where those lamented lives whose treason sought  
To ruin must be sacrificed to please,  
Ambitious man, not angry heaven appease,  
This curls their bloods, which soon inflamed had grown  
Had not the varied scene of sorrow shown  
The murdered Princes, who product, as they  
Had been reserved as opiates to allay  
Their anger's flame, are both exposed unto  
The satisfaction of the public view,  
Mounted on hearses, which on either side  
O' th' Temple gate with deaths most dismal pride  
On ebon pillars stood, as raised to show  
What justce did to their destruction ow.  
Placed near to these, their sorrows sad Records,  
Almanzor's tent, to show that it affords  
For red revenge a close reception, stood  
Like a black rock from whence in clouds of blood  
The sanguine streamers through the thickened sky  
Did waving with unconstant motion fly,  
In view of which, though at the other end  
If any durst appear that could defend  
Their cause, whom heaven alone knew innocent,  
There to receive him stood an empty Tent,  
Whose outside, as if fancied to deter  
His entrance, there appeared a Sepulchre  
Over whose gate her false Accusers had  
Transcribed those crimes which so unjustly clad  
In purples sins those spotless ●ouls; which seen  
In their bright virtues candid robes had been  
The hated wonders of those foes, whose ends  
Now find success i' th' pity of their friends.  
Near this black tent, on mourning scaffolds, where  
Death did t' encounter innocence prepare  
His heaviest darts, such as were headed by  
That more than mortal plague, foul infamy,  
The prisoners mounted; at the other gate  
Almanzor, like the messenger of Fate  
Fraught with revenge appears, his dreadful form  
More full of terror than a midnight storm  
To straitened Fleets, appearing to the view  
O' th' multitude, who whilst their prayers pursue  
The prisoners safety on the flagging wings  
Of sickly hope, his sure destruction brings,  
Since from their knowledge more remote to cure,  
Unto their hates impatient calenture.  
Thrice had the trumpet sadly sounded been  
And thrice a Herald's voice had summoned in  
Some bold defendant; but both yet so vain,  
As if just Heaven neglected to maintain  
That righteous cause, which sadly seen of all,  
The sorrowful, but helpless people fall  
Since hopes of life was shrunk into despair,  
To be assistant by their private prayer  
At death's distracting conflict; in a brief  
Effectual speech, which answered to the chief  
Heads of's indictment, in those powerful words  
Conceived his last, the Cyprian Prince affords  
Their sorrow yet a larger Theme; which done,  
Being first to die, having with prayer begun  
That doubtful road, he now a short leave takes  
Of all his mourning Friends, then calmly shakes  
Off each terrestrial thought, and heightened by  
The speculations of eternity,  
Above those damps which natures hand did wove  
Of humane fear, submitting to receive  
The fatal stroke, that Centre to a crown,  
But orb of wit, his sacred head lays down.  
Fled to the dark cell of their utmost fears  
With eyes whose lids were cemented in tears,  
Each still Spectators thoughts did now repair  
To the last refuge of a silent prayer:  
In which close parl, from that deep Lethargy  
They are to joy and wonder wakened by  
A trumpets voice, which from the other gate  
Sounds a defiance; 'twas not yet so late  
In hopes dim twilight, but they once more may  
In expectation of a glorious day  
Dare look abroad: which done, unto their view  
A Cyprian Herald being designed unto  
That office, they leading a stranger Knight  
Into the Lists behold, whose welcome sight  
Was entertained with acclamations, that  
Raised thunder for his foes to tremble at.  
This valiant Hero, whose brave gesture gave  
Life to that hope which told them heaven would save  
Such suffering virtue, now drawn near unto  
The tent, is taking a disdainful view  
Of that accursed inscription, whilst all eyes  
Centred on him, see through his steel-disguise  
A goodlier shape, though not so vastly great  
As that cursed lump nature had made the seat  
Of's enemy's black soul: The armour which  
He wore, they knew not whether for more rich,  
Or rare to prize; the ground of it, as he  
For those had mourned, which now from infamy  
His sword sought to redeem, was black, but all  
Enameled o'er with silver-hearts, let fall  
From flaming clouds, which hover above  
Them, looked like incense fired by heavenly love.  
'Mongst these in every vacant place was found  
A deaths-head scattered, some of which were crowned  
With laurel, others on their bare fronts wore  
A regal diadem; in's shield he bore  
In a Field argent on the dexter side  
A new-made Grave, to which a Lamb denied  
Succour on earth, to shun the swift pursuit  
Of a fierce wolf, was fled; but ere one foot  
Was entered there, from a red cloud that charged  
The field in chief, a thunderbolt enlarged  
By heaven's just wrath, from's sulphury seat was sent  
So swiftly, that what saved the innocent,  
The guilty slew, which now in's blood doth lie  
A Precedent for powerful tyranny.  
Those short surveys o' th' people hardly took,  
Ere having now th'unuseful tent forsook,  
The brave Defendant with a loud salute  
Had past the scaffold in the bold pursuit  
Of glorious victory, whom his angry foe  
Whose valours flame ne'er an allay did know  
So cold as fear, in that wild flame which rage  
Opposed had kindled, hastens to engage  
Him with so high a storm of fury, that  
Each falling stroke, others did tremble at  
What they sustained. Strength, valour, judgement, all  
Which ere made Conquerors stand, or conquered fall,  
Here seemed to meet: As it t'outrun desire,  
Each nimble stroke quick as ethereal fire,  
When winged by motion fell, yet with a heft  
So full of danger, most behind them left  
Their bloody marks, which in this fatal strife  
Seemed like the opened salliports of life.  
Sadly expecting whom by fate would be  
This day chose favourite unto destiny,  
The people in such silent ecstasies,  
As if their souls only informed their eyes,  
Sat to behold the combat; when to give  
Their faith assurance justice yet did live  
Unchained by faction, from a fatal blow  
Struck near his heart, Almanzor fallen so low  
From hopes of victory they beheld, that in  
His ruin, what before their fear had been  
Grew now their comfort, when that speedy death  
Might not transport his soul ere his last breath  
Confessed his guilt; the noble Champion stays  
His just raised rage, whilst his own tongue displays  
His thoughts black curtains, by discovering all  
Those crimes beneath whose burden he did fall,  
Heavy as curses which from heaven are sent  
For th' people's plague, or Prince's punishment:  
In which short close of life, to ease the grief  
Of late repentance, that successful Thief  
Whose happiest hour his latest proved, being took  
For precedent, he in a calm forsock  
That world, which, whilst his plots did strive to build  
Ambition high, he had with tempests filled.  
The multitude, whose universal voice  
Had taught even such, though distant, to rejoice,  
As age or sickness had detained within  
The City-walls, forced those that yet had been  
Her foes (converted by the general votes  
For joy) to change their envies ill set notes  
To calm compliance, in whose concord they  
With as much speed as duty did convey  
Her best of subjects, to congratulate  
Her freedom hastes, who in this smile of fate,  
●●●ilst all her friends strove to forget those fears  
Whose form they lately trembled at, appears  
Shadowed in grief, on whose joy could reflect  
No beam of comfort, the supposed neglect  
Of her Argalia, whose victorious sword  
Did in her fears extremity afford  
Some hopes of comfort, which t'opinion lost  
More sorrow then th'assaults of death had cost;  
Had not, whilst she did in dark passion stray,  
His full discovery glorified the day.  
Amidst the people's acclamations, she  
Though from a scaffold now conveyed to be  
Raised to a Crown, all that vain pomp beholds  
With eyes o'ercast in grief, till he unfolds  
Her further comfort, by discovering what  
Whilst each spectator was admiring at,  
Becomes to her so much of joy, that in  
This calm, that courage which before had been  
Unshook in tempests now begins to move,  
And what scorned hate, submits to powerful Love;  
From whose fixed centre, with as swift a flight  
And kind a welcome, as the nimble light  
Salutes the morning, pleasure now imparts  
Her powerful beams, until those neighbouring hearts  
That lived by hopes thin diet, drew from hence  
Substantial lines to joys circumference.  
Her innocence unveiled by his success,  
And both by that black foil of wickedness,  
Almanzor's guilt, more glorious made, is now  
The only volume wonder could allow  
Those that before her worst of foes had been,  
Sadly to read repentant lectures in:  
Which seen by her observant Peers, that all  
Succeeding discords in that Tyrant's fall  
Might find a tomb, him, being their Princess choice,  
The Spartan Armies universal voice  
Salute their Chief, which Precedent affords  
A pattern to the wise Epirot Lords,  
Who had a law age made authentic, which  
Prohibited their diadem t'enrich  
A female brow, on him, whose title stood  
Nearest of all collateral streams of blood;  
They wisely fix a choice, which proves to be  
Their glory, and their State's security.  
And now raised from that lowly posture in  
Which fear had left them, the vast rout begin  
Their motion toward fair Ghieranza, where  
The varied scene did such proportion bear  
With joy's exalted harmony, which in  
Their rescued Princess dwelled, all that had been  
Their sorrows dismal characters they now  
Obliterate, and her late clouded brow  
Crown with delights. The solemn bells whose sad  
Toll, when they left your mourning City, had  
Frighted the trembling hearer, now are all  
Rung out for joy, as if so loud a call  
Only becomed a love which could not be  
Expressed until the full solemnity  
Of their approaching nuptials did unite  
Their hearts or crowns, not with more full delight  
Then what did near as great a blessing prove  
(Discording subjects) in your bonds of love.  
Thus after all the wild variety  
Through Fates dark labyrinths, now arrived to be  
Crowned with as much content as ere was known  
By any that death did enforce to own  
The frailties of mortality, we leave  
Our celebrated Lovers to receive  
Those blessings which heaven on such King's showers down,  
Whose virtues add a lustre to the Crown.  
FINIS.