Ponce de Leon: OR, THE RIVAL SLAIN. A Tragical Dream IN K. Harry's Walk. — Sunt geminae Somni port, quarum altera fertur Cornea, qua veris faciiis datur exitus umbris: Altera Candenti perfecta nitens Elephanto: said falsa ad coelum mittunt insomnia manes. Virg. 6. Aen. LONDON, Printed for the AUTHOR, and Sold by J. nut, in Stationers-Hall-Yard. 1699. PONCE de LEON TO HIS ALMAHIDE. MADAM! AS the Effects of Love, have not only various insinuating Passages into the Soul, but also Enemies to the enjoyments thereof; so likewise, were it has rooted Deep, it not only works it's way thro' by Real Actions and Imaginations in the Day; but also by Diversity of Dreams and Visions in the Night. Nor, Madam, can I improve my time( especially the Day) better, than by endeavouring, Imagining, and using all possible Industry, to gain the Affections of my Almahide; whose real Virtues, were I to recite, would attract the whole Universe, to join with my too much Honoured Rival, to the making your passionate Ponce the more Unfortunate. And, as I improve the Day, so likewise do I not altogether set aside the Night; for scarcely one Nocturnal Hour revolves, without affording me some Thought, or Idea of my delicious Almahide therein. 'Twas therefore,( dear Madam!) purely for the private enjoyment of as large a Reflection on my hitherto wretched Destiny, as ●ossibly my Grief would allow, that I took this Evening Walk, ●he which I fell into so Tragical a Dream; which has been in and measure, really the Condition of your distressed Ponce. Not that my Inclination was ever Over-ambitious of shedding Blood,( tho' I grant the Constitution of Man's Body, does somewhat attribute to the Nature of his Dream) yet, let me tell you, Madam! that Ponce de Leon's Spirit is still so Generously Valiant, that he scorns to Dream in the Night, what he is afraid to Act in the Day, for the sake of his fair Almahide! You will find, Madam! no Obscenity in it; nor any thing, but what, your own Knowledge will tell you, Ponce has all along as Ard'rously explained in Reality: But you will red, how deserved a Punishment has been Inflicted on a Treacherous, and perjured Duke; and the Constancy of a Lady Recompensed with as great a Reward of Happiness. I could Wish indeed, that the Age we live in, was not perplexed with too many such Persons as the wretched Infantada; and then I'm sure, Ponce would fare far better with his Almahide. In fine, Madam! if there be any thing therein, worthy your Acceptance, I crave the Pardon to lay it at your Feet: For,( since you'ave had my Heart already) I must modestly Confess with Ovid; Carmina qui facimus, mittamus Carmina tantum, Nam Chorus ante alios aptus Amore sumus. Nought can we Poets( save our Verses give) For Poets are th'most Amorous Lads that live. Which, if they should merit one Smile, or sympathising Sigh for the distressed Ponce! he will not only esteem himself blessed for the Present, but in a fair way of being Happy Hereafter; and will Madam, Adore your Immatchless Virtues, longer than he is known to You by the Name of Ponce de Leon Ponce de Leon: OR, THE RIVAL SLAIN. AFter Misfortunes in th'Intriegues of Love, Sick witht's abortive Pangs, unto a Grove ( By some called Harry's Walk) I did repair, To mitigate my grief i'th' echoing Air, Knitting my Brows, towards heaven I'd often frown Where, vainly seeking Help, I sate me down Under the Feathers of a spacious three, Sharply reflecting on my Destiny: But, thro' the various Ideas of the bright Alm'hide, my giddy Eyes, soon lost their Sight; Fast locked, Lo, thus I dreamed! That I was there Ponce de Leon in a black despair; Methoughts I ' rose, drawing my Sword, and knit My amorous Looks into a chol'rick Fit; Venting my Passion thus: — Y'immortal gods! Why is't ye Rack me? Scourge me thus with Rods? Burn me with ardour? And, t'increase my pain, Lash me in melancholy Fits, and out again? Have I a Heart of Flint? Or, can my Spirit, So Nobly born, deservedly inherit The wracking tortures of that Fiction LOVE? Fiction! ( said I) Once more, ye gods above, Does my dear Shepherdess, fair Almahide, Resemble nought but Fancy? Nay, beside, Are the enjoyments of her chased embraces, Attended with reciprocal Caresses, Nothing but barely Fancy? Is the whole System of Virtues in her noble Soul, Compacted up with Fancy? Ye Heav'ns, if she Be nothing else but flattering phantasy, Why must Illusions hurry Mortals here Into Convulsive Throws of black despair, To waste their Vitals; which should nourished be With what is Real, not Love's phantasy?— Wretch! why do I repined, since now I own That is a Fancy which I dote upon?— Thus in my Dream sometime I fumed; and then Stood still while, and thus began again:— What! Does the Duke of Infantada make Me to believe, dear Almahide will take His Love to Heart? No, no, fair Almahide Loves the young Count 'bove all the World beside: Witness each shady Grove, and silent Walk, How simpathizing she would Sigh and Talk! Witness ye many Glances of Each Eye, Ye Earth, ye Water, and y'Aethaerial Sky, Whether it was not something more than Flattery! — Here fetching Minute Sighs, I added still, Who knows th' Ambitious bounds of Almahide's Will? ' May be she loves the Duke, because he lies Ready t'ascend the Regal Dignities! Is he not in a Station, which may bring The choicest Beauties to enjoy a King? And why not Almahide, whose noble Soul Speaks purely Majesty? Ah! wretched Fool, How long will vain confused thoughts torment Thy Soul's Serenity with Discontent? What! does the Duke, my Father, think to see The Offspring of his Loins lose Chivalry In flattering Love? What! does my Mother fear Ponce de Leon will a Fool appear On Honour's Stage? Ye Heav'ns, I'd rather far Lose Crowns and Diadems, than Beauty's Star Fair Almahide! whose Sight's a Bow; the Quiver Is full of Glances darting thro' my Liver! — Here, sometime Pausing, presently I felt ( In a great Passion) for my Rapiers Hilt; Which having found, 'gan thus; Ye Sisters Three Who fond think to Spin my Destiny To a far longer thread of Misery; Here solemnly, before heaven, I do Combine With this bright Sword, to end this Life of mine. Alm'hide adieu! your Lover goes before With hopes t'enjoy thee on the elysium Shore; Since here he can't obtain it, tho' he might Challenge it Justly as a Sacred Right! Down to those silent Shades his Soul shall fly And wrap itself in still Eternity! Where, lovely Shepherdess,[ but Cruel Fair!] He hies in hopes to meet thee shortly there— Which said, I stopped; and fixing fast my Eyes, With a deep Imprecation, towards the Skies; Ready to render up my Soul; withall Just giving way upon my Sword to fall, Methoughts, came in abruptly at each Ear A Voice, thus loudly echoing; Forbear! amazed I looked about, first here, then there; Next, round the Grove, then up towards the Air: Where nothing ' spying; nor could hear more Noise, Thus, thus I quickly raised my stam'ring Voice— Who is it Calls? Is it Fair Alm'hide's Will, I should forbear? The echo was; No, Kill!— Then answered I, who art thou that does sand Such strict Commands to hasten quick my End? Dost thou on Earth, or in the Heav'ns abide? The Answer quickly came; 'Tis Almahide! If thou be Almahide,( said I) how can You Cruelly desire to see that Man Destroy himself, whose Love out-lives the Day? Better I Love the Duke ' f Infantada! Was the next Answer;[ easily you may guess Those Words soon filled my Soul with Frantickness] Whereat, in hast, I passionately replied; Love him, imperious, haughty Almahide! If thou be Almahide, which answer'st me, Love him thou canst not more than I Love thee! But if you Love him, keep it from my Ears, And not consume me with such panic Fears: Upbraid me to my Face! Ye gods, if he Were here, his venomn'd Soul should quickly flee Down a deep purple Gore!— Ah, wretched Elf! ( Continued I) why Flatterest thus thyself? How soon art thou deceived, with th'ecchoing Air! The Duke and she are free from Love's despair? He now Louis her Presence, and she quiter Has banished th' Idea of young Ponce's Sight— From her fair Eyes!— — Ye heav'ns! that ever I Should have from thence so much Perplexity! Go wretched Ponce, go,[ thou art betrayed!] And hye away to the elysium Shade?— What dost thou here?— — Then turning to my Sword, I senseless stood, not uttering one Word For federal Minutes, till thro' Agony I raised my Eyes up towards th' etherial Sky: Say'ng thus; Y'immortal Powers above the Skies, Regard my Plaints, Commiserate my Cries! All I do beg, is, Let the Furies Prey Upon my Rival Duke ' f Infantada. Nor let his Hopes, nor amorous Projects, ever Arrive unto the Bud, before they whither; And may the beauteous Almahide as soon Meet her December in the midst of June! Cruel she was to me! Ye gods, therefore I fly to you, to see her Face no more! — And as I ended thus; I gazed round Tosee all clear, then struck into the Ground Once more my Rapier's Hilt; when going to fall Thereon, with these last Words; Adieu to all The amorous Enjoyments, which I could Once call my own, a Voice cried shrilly, Hold!— At which, impatient, straight away I hied, Thinking to see, or hear, my Almahide; Down to the further end of all the Grove, My stagg'ring Feet, and gazing Eyes did Rove, Calling out thus; My Alm'hide, I Obey, And hold my Hands; What hast thou more to say? Speak, fairest, speak?— — And then I listened so 's To Hear, if possible, 'twere She, or no;— But nothing answered to my doleful Cry, Only that echoed back more Misery; Which made me thus Exclaim; fie, Ponce, fie! Thou timorous Coward, what afraid to die? Where is thy Valour now? What, does it hid Under the Notions of fair Almahide! They're only airy Fictions which combine With thee, to linger out this Life of thine: Alas! She's far enough from thee; nor would She, if within thine echo; bid thee hold; Away, then valiant Ponce, and besure Thou try'st thy Valour in a Crimson Gore! Whereat I stepped to my first Station; and kneeled softly down upon a Bank of Sand; Lifting my Eyes and Hands towards heaven, I cried Out thus: Great Jove! whose power doth firm abide! Assist me with a resolute frame to try Grim Death's Assault, and gain the Victory? I here appeal to Thee, if ever in The Centre of this breast, was lodged that Sin called base Ingratitude, or Flattery? If Almahide could in that Closet prie, Then she might see Effects enough to prove 'Tis she alone I really do Love!— — Thou thundering god! have I not undergone The false Aspersions of a clam'rous Tongue, T'repute me little? Have I not denied Th'injoyments of a Court for Almahide? Have I not restless been both Day and Night Without I had her Person in my Sight? And was it not, ye Heav'ns! my Heart's Delight? Has not my Soul been galled to see each Day, Almahide Love the Duke ' f Infantada?— — Then, with a melting Sigh, I felt within My bosom, for a Letter, put therein Sometime before; which having Kist, and scanned Each Line thereof, I hide it in the Sand; And leaning over my Rapier, cried aloud; Ye Heav'ns receive me, and revenge my Blood! Whereat I fell; but ' forced had pierced the Skin, Two masked Ladies instantly stepped in, Seizing me fast by either Arm, and cried, Ponce! Is this your Love for Almahide? What will you Kill yourself, because you see Almahide does not love Inconstancy? Surely you are Besotted! Else, by all The powers above, you'd never attempt to fall By your own Hands! At which one took away My Rapier, whilst the other thus did say: Ponce! How know you that fair Almahide gives way To Love your Rival Duke ' f Infantada? Speak, Ponce, speak? and let not jealousy Bring Arguments to prove Inconstancy. At which I stood amazed; but gazing on Her well proportioned Aspect, thus began; Whoe'er you be, I know not, but this Speech Speaks it to be above poor Mortals reach; And if un-masked were that beauteous Face, 'Twould quickly prove you of Immortal Race. To which, she said; What Argues this? I'll be What e'er you please, so you'll but Answer me: How sayst thou Ponce? jealousy does hid Within thy breast, concerning Almahide: Come, speak the Naked Truth? Is it not so Ponce de Leon? Answer Yes, or No: These very Words, methoughts, did Usher in Some secret Thoughts, that Almahide was then Discoursing with me; whereupon, I said, ( Bowing full Low) Divine, angelic Maid, Since by your heaven assisting bounteous Hands, My wretched Life before it's Owner stands, Surely it can't do less than stoop to her Commands! What you call jealousy, to me has been A thing not merely fancied, but Seen: Have I not seen my Rival Duke abide Whole Hours with the Cruel Almahide? When wretched Ponce has been banished quiter With angry Frowns from being in her Sight? What call you this?— To which th' Unknown replied; How do you know but Cruel Almahide, As you do term her, did it for to try Ponce de Leon's Love and Constancy? Are not all Mortal? Therefore can no Heart But yours, be wounded with blind Cupid's Dart? You'ave Seen! But what avils it? Did you find That ever Almahide did prove more Kind To him, than You? Or, did you ever See Any thing more than bare Gentility, I'th' midst of all's adjectives? — No:( answered I) Yet something more is in't than jealousy; For why? If Almahide loved Ponce, then She'd Banish from her Sight all other Men. That's a more jealous Fancy:( straight said She) What, would you force her to a Nunnery! For my own Part, if I were Almahide, I'd cease from Love, before I'd be so tied! No, Ponce, no; 'tis only your Surmise That he is precious in Fair Alm'hide's Eyes: All you can say, will never make me deem, But Almahide for Ponce has esteem: Therefore be Valiant, and hence forward Live In hopes, that Almahide will never give That Heart unto another, which, as due, I am persuaded, is reserved for you! O Heav'ns!( cried I) If what you say be so, No less Affliction can I undergo! But, fair Unknown, What Credit may I give To this Discourse? Do you with Alm'hide Live? — Then greedy for an Answer, straight she said, I know her Well:( turning towards her Maid Who held my Sword, Continuing thus) and have Not been so long acquainted with that Slave, But know her innocent Humour, how, and when She seems to Slight, and then to Love again, Which Ebbs and flows from th' ardour in her breast, Due to your jealous Self?— Guess you the rest.— But Ponce,( added she) What if that fair Cruel Dissembler,( as you call her) were With such a jealousy so lead aside, As; Ponee does not Love fair Almahide! Not Love her( then said I) Nay, hold, said she: Ye gods,( continued I) more Misery Inflict upon my Soul, if what you say Be true, than e'er I'ave wished Infantada! What, not esteem fair Almahide, whose Love Is to be prized more than an Orb above! No, no, brave generous Ponce's Heart never bent It's will to join with such a base Intent: He scorns to act his Rival's part, by trying T'entice so chased a Soul with cursed Lying. Whereat I stormed, and Snuffing up the Wind, Gave her to Understand my ard'rous Mind: To which she answered thus; Ponce! You know 'Tis Usual with your Sex to argue so: Which makes this Proverb good; Virgins! beware; For Flattery, by Nature, is Man's Snare. Here stoping, with a gentle Sigh, I drew Near to unmask her Beauty; but she flew Instantly back some paces, s'if afraid Of the Event; And thus she Storming said: Ponce! I do Conjure you by the powers above; And all the Protestations of that Love Made to the innocent Captive, Almahide, Not to approach more nearer then you side O'th' Bank.( Pointing some paces off where I Had just before prepared myself to die.) Then turning to her Maid, she thus did say; Clitie! 'tis late: Come, let us hye away. At which, I cried out, Cruel Unknown! What, wilt thou leave poor Ponce here alone In worse despair, without the knowledge who It is he owes his wretched Life unto? For Heaven's sake;( continued I) tell me Whether 'tis Almahide has set me free From desp'rate Acts? To which, she quick replied; Ponce! rest satisfied, 'Tis Almahide To whom three times you Owe your Life unto: Enough, 'tis Almahide who bids, Adieu! Whereat, Re-masking quick her beauteous Face, Clitie and Almahide with-drew apace. Leaving poor Ponce senseless, just like One That metamorphosed was into a ston: — Near half an Hour revolved, before that I recovered Sense; when, in an ecstasy Of boundless Joy, my ravished Heart soon broken Out in a Rapture like a Thunder-stroke. The RAPTURE. OH! what am I turned to some Deity? Or, has great Jove Sent from his Throne above A Sip of Nectar to refresh my Soul: What need I care? They're Fools who Love despair, I now am free From such damned Misery; Which always makes Sagacity a Fool. All, all my Pride Is in Fair Almahide! She bids me Live, In hopes for to receive One Day a salue to heal my Wounds and Smart; That which I prise 'Bove all beneath the Skies: For I'm assured, Whom she hath killed, she'ath cured, And on her Patient hath bestowed her Heart! — Thus having vented out my Joy; away My thoughts were hurried on Infantada; Laughing, I said, Go Rival, and Decide Whether you'ave more respect from Almahide Than I.— — Then straight again my Head Was busied about what Alm'hide said: Scanning her Words,( cried I) And never Deem, But Almahide for Ponce has esteem! First, she does bid me banish all surmise That my base Rival's precious in her Eyes; Next Conjures me to Live; and then again, Tells me she holds my Rival in Disdain: And to conclude; she adds; Ponce! as due, My Heart and all reserved is for you: Ye Heav'ns, ye Orbs, ye Sun, ye Moon, ye Stars! Is not this better than to live in fears, That heaven knows who should Rob my Soul of this, Which is to me, a more Desirous Bliss Than Tongue can Wish for?— — Jove!( continued I) I'll offer up for this Felicity Thou hast Vouchsafed, Hecatombs of Praise, So long as here below I spend my Dayes. But, Ponce,( added I) since were you stand, Your Life was saved by Alm'hide's tender Hand, Canst thou do less, than Celebrate her famed, With Poems on her Beauty, Parts, and Name; Whereat I took my Pencil, as I sate, And thus did Scribble in my Book of state: On His ALMAHIDE. WIth what composed Serenity of Mind, ( And free from Noise) should I myself retire Into some lonely Place, where none can find Me out, angelic Beauty to Admire; There please myself, with what my Eyes have seen; Virtue and Beauty, like a murmuring Stream, Has lulled my Soul asleep in Love's soft Arms, And locked it up from Perturbations free; For I could not resist Love's magic Charms, So I Love Thee! When on your heavenly Beauty first I gazed, My Senses were insensibly betrayed; The more I looked, the more I was amazed, Then to behold with my frail Eyes a Maid, A Petty-goddess of Diana's Train; I mused a while, and then I looked again; Thinking a Mist my Eyes had over-cast, And that it was Minerva I did see; But when it vanished like unto 〈◇〉 Blast, I saw 'twas Thee! I saw 'twas who? 'twas she, whose pleasant Look, Sometimes is like unto a Sea of Milk, ( To lull asleep) and oft a Curled Brook; Her Eyes like Stars, her Lips more soft than Silk; Her Cheeks as Roses in a Lovely hue; Her Neck a stately Pyramid of Snow; Her Alabaster breasts with Coral Tips, Her tap'ring Wast descending down hard by The place of Bliss!— where both her twinny Hips Holds symmetry! The rest b'ing hide, I cannot well Discover; But, sure, within that unwrought Mine doth lie An Oar more Rich, than that which every Lover ( Well skilled in Minerals) do find and Try: She's, Goddess-like, most Fair, Discreet, and Young, endowed with Wit, and an harmonious Tongue: Nature has made her Perfect; every Grace Thro' her Delicious Body, seems to meet ●n every Limb, but Centers in her Face As Beauty's Seat; — Here I broken off, saying; since Almahide Has saved my Life, and given her Heart beside, Freed me from horrid Fears, and jealousy That Infantada would my Rival be; Once more I'll recompense that stately Pride, With Love-Revenge on my — Fair ALMAHIDE! WHen with my greedy Eyes, I gaze and state On thy Delicious Curled Locks of Hair: When I( repelled) Sedately take a View Of thy Love's-seat, divine majestic Brow: When I from thence observe your rolling Eyes, More full of flamme, than Lightning in the Skies: When I behold your lovely Cheeks, and Nose, More fair than Tulip, lily, Pink, or Rose; Thy Lips Vermilion-red: thy Teeth, within Thy Oval Mouth, like to a Troop: thy Chin The last Ascent unto th'increasing Bliss, Begot( by sipping Souls) at every Kiss: Thy Neck, Snow-white, a Pillar seems to be: Thy lovely shoulders graced with Ivory: Thy two chased Icey Fires, those downey breasts, Where Love oft nibbling, falls asleep, and rests: Thy Arms, thy Hands, thy Waste, thy Hips most neat: Thy Bliss!— thy Thighs, thy Legs, thy nimble Feet! I say, when in this paradise I gaze, Your Locks entangle me within a Maze; When striving to resist, your Brows do frown, Whilst your bright Eyes do gently knock me down; At which, Compassion in your Cheeks, discovers, Your Lips sweet Cordials are for fainting Lovers; Then, gathering strength, about your Neck I'll fall, And pull thee down t'revenge myself for all: But if your ivory shoulders won't comply, I'll sink for shane into the Flames hard by; Where, Dying, I will Live, till thence displac't, I must remove to ' twine thy slender Waste; But if no Durance there, I will retreat To try each beauteous Part from Head to Feet; No Eddy, Current, Channel, I will miss, Until I Anchor in thy Port of Bliss! — Just as I'ad done, my Soul was strucken mute With th'unexpected playing on a Flute; Whereat, I stoo'd stock still, and gazing round, listened withal, to hear from whence the sound derived; when instantly on t'other side The Bank,( within a Thicket, which could hid Some Numbers there) I saw my Rival Duke Sit melancholy playing on his Flute: Desirous to know th'Intriegue, I lay perdieu i'th' Hedge, to hear what he would say, When ceasing playing on his Flute, he cried, Heavens! I shan't enjoy fair Almahide! Ponce de Leon, to Increase my smart, Has got Possession in her tender Heart!— — And then he fetched a Sigh; and thus did say, O wretched, wretched Duke ' f Infantada! Suppose you were t'enjoy her, could you find Your Conscience seared so much, as not to mind The solemn Protestations that you'ave made Unto that innocent Countess, by you lead, With Hellish flattering Falsities, aside, Before you ever saw fair Almahide? Ah! wretched, miserable Duke,( cried he) More just a Punishment from th' Deity, Could never light upon a worse Man than thee! How oft have foreign Beauties made Resort To Masks and Balls, within this spacious Court? And ha'nt as oft my Treach'ry played it's part, By striving to 'allure each innocent Heart, With the like Imprecations made to One, As to the Second, till the Third came on? Ye Heav'ns! how many Beauties,( added he) Have I deceived with damned Flattery? When the worst She, that living is this Day, Deserves a better than Infantada! Here pausing, he lay still some time, whilst I observed with Pleasure all his Misery:— And then arising, with a mournful Tone, And languid Looks, he Sung the following SONG. THat which most call brisk and Jolly, Makes my Spirits melancholy: That which some call black despair, Is to me a Heaven Fair; And in short there's nothing can Make me like to other Men; For I find that I shall have, Instead of heaven, a Hell to be my Grave! — Too light a Punishment,( said I within My silent breast) for such a Crimson Sin As you are guilty of:— Whilst perjured he, despairing, cursed himself, and's Pedigree: But then, again recov'ring somewhat better His Sense, he pulled out this following Letter. To the Duke of Infantada! SEIGNEUR! FOR the gods sake, regard the many irreiterated Promises and oaths made to your passionate Amoretta, when she frankly resigned up all the strong Holds of Love to your endeared Embraces, which ought to have been kept most Sacred and Inviolable: Therefore expose not your Person to so dangerous a War, when you may feast yourself peaceably in her Arms: For the time draws near, wherein Nature will mischievously manifest to the view of all, the events of our Amorous Passions, without you take speedy care to mary your Distressed Countess AMORETTA. And this so passionately he red aloud, That every Word thereof I understood; And when he'ad done, his poisonous Soul gave way To moderate his Grief, and thus did say; 'Tis true, fair Amoretta, heaven does know, I once to you an ar'drous Love did show; But nothing of Reality I meant, Concerning Marriage, ' xcept a base intent To violate your Chastity, therefore I cannot Love the Amoretta more: What would you have me say? I'd rather dwell Hereafter in the hottest Flames of Hell, Than keep those Vows so often to you made, After I had your Innocence betrayed! My Fancy's fled from thee, and does abide ( Perhaps much like the Wind) on Almahide! Here he did stamp upon the Ground, then Swore Love was Damnation, and his Hair he tore; Till with the Passion, weary of his Life, He calmly breathed forth this Love-sick SIGH. AH! wretched, rigid Fate, I see it is too Late: Repentance now won't do; For Cursed Fortune, you Have all along Sung to my Soul that Song called Love the Fair, And now I plainly see It brings on Misery Instead of Bliss; and ' stead of Hope, despair! — No sooner had he ended this; but I perceived him start at somewhat drawing nigh; Whereat I rose a little, and saw clear A Lady much Dejected ' proaching near, To whom the Duke made up, and thus did say; Madam! how came you to retire this way? Does melancholy over your Vitals reign? If so, then tell thy Grief, and ease thy Pain Alas!( cried she) my drooping Spirits fail, My fault'ring Tongue can't tell that Love-sick Tale My pale-faced Aspect thus does Represent:— But, would you know my Grief,( and on she went) The same proceeds from Love!— Madam! ( continued he) for Heav'ns sake, pray, To whom does thus your Soul Love's homage pay? Or, what proud Mortal is it that can slight A Nymph so fair, whose Beauty shines more bright Than sols celestial Rays? speak amorous Soul;— ( Whereat my Spirits, which before were cool, Began to be inflamed to such a Pitch, That I had like t'have straggled over the Ditch, Had it not been considerably too Wide:—) But presently the Lady thus replied; Then give me leave to speak, my Heart does sue At Venus shrine, the Oracle is You; 'Tis you, great Sir, th' accomplished of your Sex, I do adore, beyond th' immortal gods! Whose charming Presence does imprint my Soul With Love-sick Passions— Bless me! ( cried the Duke) Am I the Object? cheer up thy drooping Soul?— How can I master Grief, if you will roll ( Said she) your Person on a dung'rous War; What! to have all my Life, my Hopes, exposed To Heav'ns wide Canopy? The gods forbid The Protasis of your intent should pass On farther to an Epitasis, Which, in the End, may prove a dire Catastrophe. Madam! ( cried he) if any can deter My seeking Glory in the Camp of War, 'Tis you— 'Tis your bright Load-stone twinkling Stars, That shall with-draw me from their bloody Scars; You are my Bliss!— Come, let's then lay aside Such vain Disponding Thoughts, Love's breach is Wide; We'll enter then, and take a sweet Repast In Love's Arcadia, till one Hour doth waste!— Ah, Sir!( continued she) might I believe Such heaven distilling Words, they'd make me Live For ever Happy!— Yes; ( said he) you may; Then Thanks to heaven( cried she) I'ave seen this Day! Come dearest Jewel, which my Soul admires, Take now an ar'drous Kiss, mixed with Love's Fires, I wholly do Devote my Life, my All Unto your tender Care, I come, I fall:— And so she fell about his Neck, and cried, ( Swooning in's Arms) let us not here abide: — Whereat the Duke and she soon vanished quiter, Amongst the Thickets, from my greedy Sight. And then Considering no fear might ' bide Thence forward in my breast for Almahide; I gave Great Jove,( who always heard my Call) Promise to Offer up the Tenths of all My Wealth, as Sacrifice, till Almahide Was made by Heaven, happy Ponce's Bride. Which done, I took my Sword, and Gloves in Hand, To go and wait on Almahide's Command, When instantly, before one step I'ad given, I stopped was by a Shrick that fled towards Heaven; Whereat I drew my Sword, hearing a Noise, Dismally sounding like a Lady's Voice, ( Coming from whence I saw the Duke, and she Retire to enjoy Felicity) And run like to a Fury, with my Sword Drawn naked in my Hand, for to afford Help to distressed; yet I could not fly So quick, but that this bloody Tragedy Was even expired; When I heard one say; Ah! cruel, Monster Duke ' f Infantada! I here appeal to all the gods above, If ever innocent Hortoria's Love Was false to thee: Or, ever did suggest Such damned designs could Harbour in thy breast! Thus to entice my Virtue all along, With inward rancour, and a flart'ring Tongue! enjoy my Body! and without true Cause Of jealousy, to violate Nature's Laws, And Rid me of my Life, by so unjust A means!— Ah! bloody Duke, expect thou must, And shall live in the hottest Flames of Hell, When that Hortoria with the gods will dwell. And here methoughts her Soul sent forth a Shriek. Enough to make the flintiest Heart to break; And then I came in Sight, and saw the Duke Lifting his Arm to give the fatal stroke: Whereat I cried aloud, Thou hellish Fiend; Thou Cowardly trait'rous Dog, with-hold thy Hand! At which, he turned about with looks aghast, ( But not regarding) stabbed her thro' the breast: No sooner had he given the Blow, but I Came up, and saw the fair Hortoria lie Along the Grass, with both her Arms out-spread, And hair dishevelled hanging about her Head; Her rosy Cheeks which often flamed, were gone To hid themselves in Death's pale Horizon; The Tears which just before were shed, did lie congealed like Pearls about each ghastly Eye; Her breasts lay Naked, and exposed to view, seven blooody Stabs, died in a Crimson hue, given by the Duke. When as her glimm'ring sight, With a deep Groan, began to take it's flight; She ' spied me out, and mournfully did say, Revenge me on the Duke ' f Infantada! And so her Soul and Body, both did part, Enough to melt in Tears the hardest Heart. No sooner had sh'expired, but I burned With choler 'gainst the Duke, and to him turned; Bespeaking thus; Thou monstrous Villain! how Could you unnaturally those Hands embrew In the warm Blood of her, to whom you'ave Swore Often, you never did the gods adore More times than she, nor never loved Lady more. Does this become a Duke? How can you ' spy The fair Hortoria, whom you'ave flattered, lie In Crimson Streams of Blood, and not Confess Damnation is your due, not Happiness? Come perjured Wretch,( said I) prepare to go And fry with Devils in the Lake below.— Whereat, I drew, whilst he,( with both his Eyes Sprinkled with Blood from the late Sacrifice) viewed well my Person, boldly saying, Who Is he that I must give account unto, For what I'ave done? Villain!( continued I) I'm he that will revenge this Tragedy? And so we both encountered, and did fight Near half an hour, till, with all my might, ( Managing dexterously my Passes well) I ran him thro' the Groin and down he fell; Whereat, to free him from a lingering smart, My Sword was just a going to pierce his Heart, When he cried out; withhold thy Hand, whilst I Confess with dying Words, this Cruelty! At which, I stopped, whilst he did faintly say, I am the dying Duke ' f Infantada: The Lady which you see, I have destroyed, Was by my perjured, flattering Tongue decoyed: True, 'tis she loved me; and I thereupon promised her Marriage federal Months agone; But never intended she should be my Bride, So soon as I had seen fair Almahide; Nor was she singular, for I'ave beguiled Fair Amoretta, and she's now with Child: Therefore, as justly due, great Jove has sent From heaven too moderate a Punishment On such a damned Miscreant as I, For dealing all along so treach'rously! sheath up your Sword, ( cried he) for lo! I feel Death's pangs apace within my breast to Steal. Ad●eu, fair Almahide! let Ponce have, As hi●●ust right, ( said he) that lovely Slave; And may the innocent Amoretta find, 'Tis better for her she is left behind; I never loved her, but with flattery, To steal away the Pearl Virginity!— And then, as welt'ring in a Gore, he lay, His Cheeks became more could than Ice, or s●lay; Pale Horror seized his Lips instead o'th' Rose, And Death, with's Icey Fingers, pinched his Nose: His Tongue, that faulter'd from it's wonted Note, And every Breath did Rattle in his Throat; When even spent he fetched a piteous Cry, And thus Reflected on his Destiny: Ah! cruel, barbarous Duke ' f Infantada! Dost thou not see, the gods are just t'repay Vengeance to those, whose evil Actions merit No other than a place with Devils t'inherit? And then, with Tears in's Eyes, he cried, I see Abused Time lists up his Scythe at me: Death swiftly, with his Sable Wings, Approaches near, t'unnerve the Springs Of my o'erwhelmed Life! His Glass Tells me my Minutes swift do pass: Nor would I value Death, but I A far more blacker Scene spy; Hell is presented before my Eyes, With all th'infernal Deities. And here his Spirit groaned, and Limbs did shake So frightfully, as made my Heart to Ach. And then again, he very faintly cried, ( Not knowing me) Adieu, fair Almahide: No doubt but that Felicity she'll have, When Ponce does enjoy that harmless Slave. Farewell fond circling Arms, With all your leach'rous Charms; For whom base I A perjured Wretch became, Only one Minutes flamme Of Lust t'enjoy; For which I'ave damned my Soul. and have Untimely brought my Body to the Grave. And here his ghostly Eyes did roll about, Foretelling that the Soul, was going out From a dark Prison, when he sadly cried, Oh! wretched Duke! so closed his Eyes and died. — Thus fled th'immatchless wicked Soul away Of the most cruel Duke ' f Infantada:— Tho' both being Dead, my Soul was galled to see Hortoria Butchered so Cruelly; And gazing on her Wounds which scarce were could, I spied beneath one Pap a Heart of Gold; Bleeding as 'twere( b'ing wounded with a Dart,) Bearing this Motto; The Duke must Cure my Smart. Ah! innocent Lady, ( added I) this Cure You have received from his Hands impure, You little thought of; but withal, 'thas sent Your Soul to heaven, and his to Punishment. Those words no sooner uttered, but my Eyes Had for their Objects, hellish Deities, With flaming Torches, all attended by Cerb'rus to Howl at some solemnity; Each Devil had a Taper in his Fist, tied fast to Snakes, which twined round his Wrist; In th' other Paw was held a whip of Wire Knotted with brimstone Streams, and frigid Fire. In th' middle crawled six Imps of Hell, whose Backs exposed to view a Thousand sorts of Racks, Besides a Red-hot Grid-Iron, and a Chain linked fast with Scorpions to increase the Pain; After them limp'd an ugly Massy Fiend Bearing a Trunk, which made his shoulders bend, From whence did usher out most piteous groans, To which he joined in Chorus hellish Tones: Upon the Trunk was Writ; Within's confined Conscience let loose upon a desp'rate mind: After him prancing came six Horses, who ( With foaming mouths) a Sable Chariot drew, In it sat Pluto, King of Hell, who had A Crown of Ebony upon his Head; And, for a sceptre, in his Left-hand, he ( But in the Right, a Rod) did hold a Key. Next the three Goddesses, the Furies came, Brandishing Torches; which were set on flamme By Justice; and designed( most fit) at first, To Lash the Consciences of Souls who're cursed; And then a multitude of Devils run, With Brands of Fire so thick, s' obscured the Sun: Which made me strongly fancy, that the World, With all therein, was going to be hurled Down to the lowest Shades of Hell, to be sealed down with Devils to Eternity: At which, I thought 'twas time to go away; And just as I was moving, one cried, Stay? Turning myself about, to see who spoken, Pluto descended in a Cloud of Smoke, Bespeaking thus;( turning to me withall— SIR! I over the lower Regions reign as King, And by a higher Commission, here do bring ( For an Example) my infernal Crew, To take and Carbonade what is my Due; So soon as sinful Man falls down and dyes, So soon his wretched Soul with horror flies, Before it's Judge, where Conscience straight obtains A Mittimus to bind the Soul in Chains, And haul it down before m'Imperial Seat, Justly, t'receive a Punishment so great As e'er it's Crimes were big: Behold,( said he, Pointing unto the Trunk, his Scepter'd Key) Within that Trunk a naked Soul lies, stripped Of all Relief, and by it's Conscience whipped. Hark! how it Groans under a Burden, which Compounded's up with Floods of boiling Pitch; Which brings so many perjured oaths to sight, As none can tell the horror of it right: This is the carcase of that Soul, which lies locked under damned despairing Agonies; Of which Possession I am come to take, And carry Soul and Body to that Lake, Where it will see, no difference I can show 'Twixt high-born Princes, and the Peasants low. Stand still:( and you shall see all ended soon) For 'tis not in my power to do you wrong; Virtue I never touch; for that I hate As bad as poison; 'Tis 'vice, on which I bait, And feast my Paunch: And therefore, Sir, as due, Thanks for this Morsel I return to you. No sooner was this done, but quickly he Went to the Trunk, and putting in his Key, unlocked the same; whereat, a hellish shout welcomed the tortured Soul and Conscience out; Who fiercely flew to seize upon their Prey, ( The carcase of my Rival Duke) who lay besmeared with Blood. No sooner had he took Possession, but the Body straight awoke, And trembling stood, gnashing it's Teeth thro' Fear, Whilst Devils with their Prongs the Flesh did Tare: A Vulture seized his Bowels; and his Tongue ( Foaming beneath his Chin) some Inches hung: His Eyes to me seemed Ovens; and his Throat Cerberus tore with a damned howling Note: And here, methoughts, Compassion seized my Soul, And moved me much his misery to Condole; But all too late; for greedily he stood, Sucking, thro' Thirst, his very own Hearts-blood: Which made the Devil offer him a Cup Of boyling-brimstone, mixed with Pitch, to Sup; The which his Thirsty Tongue lapp'd up so fast, That he had like t'have drank the Cup for hast, Had it not been united to a Chain, By which the Devil pulled it back again: This made me very curious to know What sort of liquour 'twas he goggl'd so; And then I gave the Devil a Word and Wink, Who said, 'twas called, Damnation Dyet-Drink. And then they dragged him to the Grid-Iron, where His Soul did belch forth nothing but despair. Heavens! what horror was his Conscience in? How did his quickened Memory begin To call to mind, the many cursed adjectives, The Falshoods, Flatteries, and broken Leagues: The oaths, the Vows, with which he did betray Fair Amoretta and Hortoria? Tongue cannot tell th'Extremity of Pain This Soul was in, when Pluto took a Chain, And sternly locked it to the Grid-Iron, when His Vassals took it on their Backs again; Marching away, whilst the three Furies came Lashing the back of Conscience with a flamme: Next stisted Conscience pressing to obtain Some Respite, galled the Soul with horrid Pain: The Soul, that fell upon the Body, and Fretted it's Vitals with a racking Band Of Lusts and Pleasures,( called once, Delight) Which forced his gnashing poisonous Teeth, to bite It's Ven'mous Tongue. And thus this hellish Crew, In damned Disorder, to the place with-drew, From whence I saw 'em come; where, at a stay, In Smoke these Devils vanished quiter away. Bless me! you cannot guess what great surprise My Soul was left in, when these Deities Sunk with my Rival Duke amid their Paws, Beneath the Earth into Hell's gaping Jaws! Nor was my Senses to be governed by That Reason now, to which they used to lie Prostrate before: Had not a numerous Train Of glorious Angels, cleared the Air again: calmed all my Turb'lent Thoughts, and brought my sight To feast on Objects full of choice Delight. Just as you'ave seen, a weeping Lady lie Prostrate before her Lord, condemned to die; When nothing else is looked for, but to see The Execution done immediately; When at the very instant that the Blow Is to be keenly struck, there comes one, who Has Orders from the King to save his Life: Can you imagine how the ravished Wife, Transported is with Joy? Her Sorrows look No more within the Leaves of Death's pale Book, But all the Scene is past; when, thro' the Charms Of Joy Extatic, she Swoons within the Arms Of her dear Lord; who with a soft embrace, Kisses the Pearly drops from off her Face; Which cheers her fainting Spirits, and inspires Into her glowing breast, more ard'rous Fires. So Joy transported all my Senses, when The Hemisphere from Clouds was freed again: Instead of seeing sulphurous Devils roast A damned Soul, my Eyes beholded a Host Of flitting Spirits, coming from above, To carry fair Hortoria to Jove. First flew a Seraphim with Roses sweet, To strew upon Hortoria's Head and Feet: Next came two Cherubims, whose Faces shone So gloriously transparent like the Sun, Each of them bearing Flags of white to show 'Twas Peace they brought unto the Corps below. Presently after them most gently flew A glorious Orb of Happiness, that show, engraved upon the top, these Words in Gold; Permanent Happiness is never Sold, Nor Bought by Mortals; those who would it have, Must first Repentance for their Actions crave! Then came a precious Chariot, in the which Was sate a King, whose Garments seemed more rich, Than ever from the Costly Indies came; With Pearls and Rubies stuck about the same, Most gorgeously. The Chariot was drawn By six fine Steeds, Trapp'd up in milk-white Lawn. Heavens! I fell amazed to see this sight! How gloriously each shone like crystal bright: Down from his Chariot, quick he did ascend, And took the speechless Lady, by the Hand; Saying Arise! at which sh'awoke, when he Most gently raised her up, and cried, Come, see The recompense that is prepared for you? And so they to the Chariot both with-drew. Bless me! what music did these Spirits make? How did the Seraphims and Cherubs quake And Quiv'r in Chorus, when Hortoria fair Was in the Chariot cutting thro' the Air. The Banners were displayed; the Orb that placed It's self within the Center of her breast, How did she shine in Beauty! Every part Throughout her Body, was refined 'bove Art, Lovely Meanders decked her azure Veins, And Virtues hung about her Neck like Chains Of Gold. In fine Hortoria seemed to be Of heaven's abode, a large Epitome. And up the Chariot, with it's numerous Train More swift than Time, towards Heaven soared again. All being over, and nothing to be seen But my transported self within the Green, Then my revolving Thoughts began to call Over again,( with more Sedateness) all The past Transactions, till methoughts, the Day cried loudly in my Ears to hast away. whereat I turned to the Path, and hied, With all Celerity towards Almahide: But scarce had I Three Furlongs went, before I spied a Lady with her Hair all tore About her naked breasts; her Hands, and Eyes Lift up, imploring of the Deities: Ye mighty powers! Ah! won't ye Slay, and Damn That base, perfidious, perjured Creature Man? Whose oaths are only rhetoric, t'entice Innocent Virgins to the Snares of 'vice! Heav'ns confounded 'em all!—( cried she) And here stoping, she turned about, and saw me near; When up she ' rose, and ran so fast, until even out of breath, upon a bank she fell; To whom I hastened up, Crying out, Why, Madam, do you Invoke the Deity To pour down Vengeance on us Mortals, when 'Tis but some few, perfidious, wretched Men, ( As you do term 'em) that have thus betrayed Your Sex's Virtue; and as dearly paid For every jot.— To which she nothing said, But looked Severe; when quickly to her aid Some Ladies came, giving me t'understand, That she was Amoretta's Sister; and How being by Infantada beguiled, Thro' Grief had poisoned both her self and Child. Whereat I told 'em All, and bid 'em tell Her every Circumstance that had befell The wretched Duke. And then again I hied, T'enjoy, and feast myself with Almahide; Where I no sooner was arrived, and had Access into her Chamber, but she said, ( After some chased embraces) Ponce! Tell Me now, I do Conjure you, what befell The Duke and You?— At which, b'ing fearful lest A rash Account might discompose her breast, And tend to bad Effect, briskly replied, Nothing material, fair Almahide. And to divert her from so black a Scene, I made this Love-Digression intervene. MAdam,! I must not tell you, that you are ( Like Flatterers) than Cynthia far more fair; But I must tell you, Madam, what is true, I never saw Beauty before I gazed on you. I cannot say, That from your rolling Eyes Two scorching, amorous Flames like Lightning flies: But I may truly say, That they enhance magic enough t'inslave with one Half-Glance. I dare not tell you, that your Cheeks so Fair, Have Smiles enough an Angel to ensnare: But I dare tell you, That they seem to be Two Rosey beds, each side an ivory three. I will not say, Your Lips, Vermilion die! For then, upon my Honour, I should lie: But this I'll say, They're Roses ' round a Well, Which do invite my Soul to Sip and Smell. I ought not for to tell you, That your breasts Are Altars, on the which Two Robins nests: But this I ought to tell you, as my Duty, They are the tend'rest Banks of all your Beauty. I shall not farther in your Garden prie, For fear I fall into an ecstasy: But, Madam, I shall guess you are complete From your Corona, to your very Feet. But yet, half-pleas'd, she forced me to Obey, And tell so much as made her Swoon away, When in my Arms I often kissed her, till Some Ladies came, and forced me, 'gainst my Will, To leave the Chamber, whilst, with Cordials, they retrieved her Sense, as on a Coach she lay. When being by myself admitted in, And found her slumbering, thus I did begin— SLeep, Alm'hide, Sleep, until thy blissful Lover robs thee of a Kiss Whilst he with Steps, observed by Care, Approaches gladly to thy Chair: Venus, the Feathe●s from thy Doves Pull, and bestrow them like to Groves; That walking, I no Noise may make, For fear lest Almahide awake. Inspire her glowing Chee●s with heat, That Cupid mays Alarumn beat; And when the ardour does begin, Let it not terminate in Sin; But Chast and Holy let all be, Devoted to the Shrine of thee. Lo! now I come, my Dear be still, For I'll do nought against thy Will: I'll touch thy Ruby Lips; and Vie The motions of each Starry Eye; Observe, i● they be Sealed fast; If so, then let our ardour last With equal glowing Heat; till she Wakes, says Enough, thro' Modesty. And then I kissed her Sug'red Lips, till Chance, By Startling her, roused me out of my Trance. FINIS.