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ANAXUS IN THE CAVE OF THE WITCH ORANDRA. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Momancc* 
 
 BY JOHN CHALKHILL. 
 
 FIRST PUBLISHED 
 
 BY ISAAC WALTON, 1683. 
 
 A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED. 
 
 FROM THE PRESS OF C. WHITTINGHAM, 
 COLLEGE HOUSE. 
 
TO 
 
 GEORGE HIBBERT, ESQ. 
 
 IN GRATITUDE FOR REPEATED FAVOURS 
 
 RECEIVED AT HIS HAND?, 
 
 AND AS A SMALL BUT SINCERE TOKEN 
 
 OF THE HIGHEST ESTEEM, 
 
 THIS REVIVAL OF 
 
 j)ealma anlj <lmcj)u$ 
 
 IS INSCRIBED, 
 
 BY HIS FAITHFUL 
 
 AND DEVOTED SERVANT, 
 
 S. W. SINGER. 
 
 373900 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 IF the observation be true, that we peruse a 
 book with less pleasure, until we know some- 
 thing of the writer, this poem will lose one 
 attraction; for Chalkhill is but a name unap- 
 propriated, a verbal phantom, a shadow of a 
 shade. Honest Isaac Walton says ' he was in 
 his time a man generally known, and as well 
 beloved; a gentleman and a scholar/ But this 
 happy garrulous old man has forgotten to give 
 us some of his delightful gossiping, about the 
 particulars of his life, which he has bestowed so 
 
viii ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 liberally upon other occasions. He has not even 
 told us where he was born, or when he died ! 
 
 In his ' Complete Angler' he has given two 
 songs, to which he has also affixed ChalkhnTs 
 name, although they are much in the strain of 
 the other songs in the book, and I have some- 
 times been inclined to doubt whether Thealma 
 and Clearchus might not be a youthful produc- 
 tion of his own. This is merely a conjecture, 
 but the pastoral feeling which pervades the poem, 
 may give it some colour; and I do think that he 
 had quite enough of the poet's imagination to 
 have produced it. 
 
 The plot of the fable is somewhat intricate, 
 and the narrative prolix, but upon the whole the 
 reader's attention is kept awake, by the interest 
 excited, and there are ' rich and romantic' pas- 
 sages of eminent beauty scattered with no un- 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. ix 
 
 sparing hand throughout. Such are the des- 
 cription of the Arcadian Golden Age, of the 
 Priestesses of Diana, of the Cave of the Witch 
 Orandra, &c,, which are now known to most 
 readers by the notice Mr. Campbell has taken 
 of them in his Essay on English Poetry. They 
 had previously been selected by the editor of the 
 Muse's Library, published under the name of 
 Mrs. Cooper, but attributed to Oldys. " Chalk- 
 hhTs numbers, (says Mr. Campbell) are as mu- 
 sical as those of any of his contemporaries, who 
 employ the same form of versification. It was 
 common with the writers of the heroic couplet 
 of that age to bring the sense to a full and fre- 
 quent pause in the middle of the line. This 
 break, by relieving the uniformity of the couplet 
 measure, sometimes produces a graceful effect, 
 and a varied harmony, which we miss in the 
 exact and unbroken tune of our later rhyme; a 
 
X ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 beauty of which the reader will probably be 
 sensible in perusing such lines of ChalkhilVs as 
 these 
 
 ' And ever and anon he might well hear 
 A sound of music steal in at his ear, 
 As the wind gave it being : so sweet an air 
 Would strike a siren mute.' 
 
 This relief, however, is used rather too liberally 
 by the elder rhymists, and is perhaps as often 
 the result of their carelessness as of their good 
 , taste. Nor is it at all times obtained by them 
 without the sacrifice of one of the most important 
 uses of rhyme; namely, the distinctness of its 
 effect in marking the measure. The chief source 
 of the gratification which the ear finds in rhyme, 
 is our perceiving the emphasis of sound coincide 
 with that of sense. In other words, the rhyme 
 is best placed on the most emphatic word in the 
 sentence. But is nothing unusual with the an- 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. XI 
 
 cient couplet writers by laying the rhyme on 
 unimportant words, to disappoint the ear of this 
 pleasure, and to exhibit the restraint of rhyme 
 without its emphasis." 
 
 It is to be regretted that the poem is not 
 completed; I may join in Walton's quaint con- 
 clusion, and " hope the reader will be sorry 7 ' 
 also. It is said to bear marks of being only an 
 unrevised fragment, and this is the only cir- 
 cumstance, if true, that would militate against 
 the supposition of its having been written by 
 Walton. 
 
 For the elegant and spirited design which 
 embellishes the book, I am indebted to the kind- 
 ness of my friend T. G. Wainewright, Esq. 
 whose ' mastering hand' should not confine itself 
 to the gratification of a select circle of friends, 
 when it might be hailed an ornament to Art and 
 
Xii ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 to his country. The Engraving on Wood is 
 executed by Mr. Thompson with his accustomed 
 skill and accuracy. 
 
 BUSHEY, HERTS, 
 
 February 11, 1820. 
 
THEALMA 
 
 AND 
 
 CLEARCHUS. 
 
 A 
 
 PASTORAL HISTORY 
 
 In smooth and easie Verse 
 
 Written long since 
 
 By JOHN CHALKHILL Esq r , 
 
 An Acquaintarit and Friend of 
 
 EDMUND SPENCER. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 Printed for Benj. Tooke, at the Ship in S. Paul's 
 Church-yard 1683. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE Reader will find in this book 
 what the title declares, a Pastoral His- 
 tory, in smooth and easie verse; and will 
 in it Jind many hopes and fears finely 
 painted, and feelingly expressed. And 
 he ivill Jind the first so often disap- 
 pointed, when fullest of desire and ex- 
 pectation ; and the latter, so often, so 
 strangely, and so unexpectedly relieved, 
 by an unforeseen Providence, as may 
 beget in him wonder and amazement. 
 
 And the Reader will here also meet 
 
 with passions heightened by easie and 
 
 fit descriptions of Joy and Sorrow ; 
 
 and find also such various events and 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 rewards of innocent Truth and undis- 
 sembled Honesty, as is like to leave in 
 him (if he be a good-natured reader) 
 more sympathizing and virtuous impres- 
 sions, than ten times so much time spent 
 in impertinent, critical, and needless 
 disputes about religion : and I heartily 
 wish it may do so. 
 
 And, I have also this truth to say 
 of the author, that he was in his time a 
 man generally known, and as well be- 
 loved ; for he was humble, and obliging 
 in his behaviour, a gentleman, a scholar, 
 very innocent and prudent: and indeed 
 his whole life was useful, quiet, and 
 virtuous. God send the Story may meet 
 with, or make all readers like him. 
 
 May 7, 1678. ^ 
 
TO MY WORTHY FRIEND 
 
 MR. ISAAC WALTON, 
 
 ON THE PUBLICATION OF THIS POEM. 
 
 LONG had the bright Thealma lain obscure, 
 
 Her beauteous charms that might the world alluro 
 
 Lay, like rough diamonds in the mine, unknown 
 
 By all the sons of Folly trampled on, 
 
 Till your kind hand unveil'd her lovely face, 
 
 And gave her vigour to exert her rays. 
 
 Happy old man! whose worth all mankind knows, 
 
 Except himself, who charitably shows 
 
 The ready road to virtue, and to praise, 
 
 The road to many long and happy days; 
 
 The noble arts of generous piety, 
 
 And how to compass true felicity; 
 
 Hence did he learn the art of living well, 
 
 The bright Thealma was his Oracle : 
 
2 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Yet move not her ; she minds not what she hears : 
 
 Their sweeter accents grate her tender ears, 
 
 That relish nought but sadness: Joy and she 
 
 Were not so well acquainted ; one might see, 
 
 E'en in her very looks, a stock of sorrow 
 
 So much improved, 'twould prove despair to-morrow. 
 
 Down in a valley 'twixt two rising hills, 
 
 From whence the dew in silver drops distills 
 
 1" enrich the lowly plain, a river ran 
 
 Hight Cygnus; (as some think from Leda's swan 
 
 That there frequented) gently on it glides 
 
 And makes indentures in her crooked sides, 
 
 And with her silent murmurs, rocks asleep 
 
 Her wat'ry inmates : 'twas not very deep, 
 
 But clear as that Narcissus look'd in, when 
 
 His self-love made him cease to live with men. 
 
 Close by the river, was a thick-leaved grove, 
 
 Where swains of old sang stories of their love ; 
 
 But unfrequented now since Colin died, 
 
 Colin, that king of shepherds, and the pride 
 
 Of all Arcadia: here Thealma used 
 
 To feed her milky droves, and as they brows'd 
 
 Under the friendly shadow of a beech 
 
 She sate her down; grief had tongue-tied her speech, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 3 
 
 Her words were sighs and tears ; dumb eloquence : 
 
 Heard only by the sobs, and not the sense. 
 
 With folded arms she sate, as if she meant 
 
 To hug those woes which in her breast were pent. 
 
 Her looks were nail'd to earth, that drank 
 
 Her tears with greediness, and seem'd to thank 
 
 Her for those briny showers, and in lieu 
 
 Returns her flow'ry sweetness for her dew. 
 
 At length her sorrows wax'd so big within her, 
 
 They strove for greater vent: Oh ! had you seen her, 
 
 How fain she would have hid her grief, and stay'd 
 
 The swelling current of her woes, and made 
 
 Her grief, though with unwillingness, to set 
 
 Open the flood-gates of her speech, and let 
 
 Out that which else had drown'd her; you'd have 
 
 deem'd 
 
 Her rather Niobe than what she seem 'd. 
 So like a weeping rock wash'd with a sea 
 Of briny waters, she appeared to be. 
 So have I seen a headlong torrent run 
 Scouring along the valley, till anon 
 It meeting with some dam that checks his course, 
 Swells high with rage, and doubling of its force 
 
 p, 2 
 
4 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Lays siege to his opposer: first he tries 
 
 To undermine it, still his waters rise, 
 
 And with its* weight steals through some narrow 
 
 pores, 
 
 And weeps itself a vent at those small doors; 
 But finding that too little for its weight, 
 It breaks through all. Such was Thealma's state, 
 When tears would give her heart no ease, her grief 
 Broke into speech to give her some relief: 
 ( O my Clearchus/ said she, and with tears 
 Embalms his name: 'O! if the ghosts have ears, 
 Or souls departed condescend so low, 
 To sympathize with mortals in their woe; 
 Vouchsafe to lend a gentle ear to me, 
 Whose life is worse than death, since not with thee. 
 What privilege have they that are born great 
 More than the meanest swain ? The proud waves beat 
 With more impetuousness upon high lands, 
 Than on the flat and less resisting strands : 
 The lofty cedar, and the knotty oak, 
 Are subject more unto the thunder-stroke, 
 Than the low shrubs, that no such shocks endure, 
 Ev'n their contempt doth make them live secure. 
 * their ? 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 5 
 
 Had I been born the child of some poor swain, 
 Whose thoughts aspire no higher than the plain, 
 I had been happy then ; t' have kept these sheep, 
 Had been a princely pleasure ; quiet sleep 
 Had drown'd my cares, or sweeten'd them with 
 
 dreams : 
 
 Love and content had been my music's themes; 
 Or had Clearchus liv'd the life I lead, 
 I had been blest/ And then a tear she shed, 
 That was forerunner to so great a shower, 
 It drown'd her speech : such a commanding power 
 That lov'd name had : when beating of her breast, 
 In a sad silence she sighM out the rest. 
 By this time it was noon, and Sol had got 
 Half to his journey's ending: 'twas so hot, 
 The sheep drew near the shade, and by their dam 
 Lay chewing of their cuds : at the length came 
 Caretta with her dinner, where she found 
 Her love-sick mistress courting of the ground, 
 Moist with the tears she shed; she lifts her up, 
 And pouring out some beverage in a cup, 
 She gave it her to drink : hardly she sips, 
 When a deep sigh again lock'd up her lips. 
 Caretta woo's and prays, (poor country girl) 
 And every sigh she spent cost her a pearl. 
 
6 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 ' Pray come to dinner/ said she, ' see, here's bread, 
 
 Here's curds and cream, and cheesecake, sweet, now 
 
 Do you not love me? once you said you did. [feed ; 
 
 Do you not care for me? If you had bid 
 
 Me do a thing, though I with death had met 
 
 I would have done it : honey mistress, eat. 
 
 I would your grief were mine, so you were well; 
 
 What is't that troubles you? would I could tell. 
 
 Dare you not trust me? I was ne'er no blab, 
 
 If I do tell't to any, call me drab. 
 
 But you are angry with me, chide me then, 
 
 Beat me, forgive, I'll ne'er offend again. 7 
 
 With that she kiss'd her, and with luke-warm tears, 
 
 CalFd back her colour worn away with cares. 
 
 * O my poor girl,' said she, ' sweet innocence, 
 What a controlling winning eloquence 
 Hath loving honesty; wer't not to give 
 Thy love a thanks, Thealma would not live. 
 I cannot eat; nay, weep not, I am well, 
 Only I have no stomach : thou can'st tell 
 How long it is since good Menippus found 
 Me shipwrecked in the sea, e'en well-nigh drown'd ; 
 And happy had it been, if my stern fate 
 Had prov'd to me so cruel fortunate 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 7 
 
 To have un-liv'd me then/ ' Ah, wish not so!' 
 
 Answer'd Caretta, * little do you know, 
 
 What end the fates have in preserving you. 
 
 I hope a good one, and to tell you true, 
 
 You do not well to question those blest powers, 
 
 That long agone have number'd out our hours, 
 
 And, as some say, spin out our threads of life; 
 
 Some short, some longer, they command the knife 
 
 That cuts them off; and till that time be come 
 
 We seek in vain to shroud us in a tomb. 
 
 But I have done, and fear I've done amiss, 
 
 I ask forgiveness. As I guess it is 
 
 Some three years since my master sav'd your life, 
 
 'Twas much about the time he lost his wife, 
 
 And that's three years come Autumn, my good dame 
 
 Then lost her life, yet lives in her good name. 
 
 I cannot choose but weep to think on her. 
 
 'Mongst women kind, was not a lovinger. 
 
 She bred me up e'en from my infancy, 
 
 And lov'd me as her own, her piety 
 
 And love to virtue made me love it too; 
 
 But she is dead, and I have found in you 
 
 What I have lost in her: my good old master 
 
 Follow'd her soon, he could not long out-last her, 
 
.THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 They lov'4 so well together, heav'n did lend 
 Him longer life, only to prove your friend; 
 To save your life, and he was therein blest, 
 That happy action crowned all the rest 
 Of his good deeds : since heav'n hath such a care 
 To preserve good ones, why should you despair? 
 The man you grieve for so, there's none can tell 
 But if heav'n be so pleas'd, may speed as well. 
 Some lucky hand Fate may, for ought you know, 
 Send to save him from death as well as you. 
 And so I hope it hath, take comfort then, 
 You may, I trust, see happy days again/ 
 
 Thealma all this while with serious eye, 
 EyM the poor wench, unwilling to reply ; 
 For in her looks she read some true presage, 
 That gave her comfort, and somewhat asswage 
 The fury of her passions ; with desire 
 Her ears suck'd in her speech, to quench her fire : 
 She could have heard her speak an age, sweet soul, 
 So pretty loud she chnd her, and condole 
 With her in her misfortunes. ' Oh,' said she, 
 * What wisdom dwells in plain simplicity ! 
 Prithee (my dear Caretta), why dost cry ? 
 I am not angry, good girl, dry thine eye, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Or I shall turn child too : my tide's not spent, 
 
 'Twill flow again, if thou art discontent. 
 
 For I will eat if thou'lt be merry ; say, 
 
 Wilt thou, Caretta ? shall thy mistress pray, 
 
 And thou deny her?' Still Caretta wept, 
 
 Sorrow and gladness such a struggling kept 
 
 Within her for the mastery; at the length 
 
 Joy overcame, and speech recovered strength. 
 
 ' Sweet mistress/ said she, ' pardon your hand-maid, 
 
 Unworthy of the wages your love paid 
 
 Me ; for my over-boldness, think't not strange, 
 
 I was struck dumb at this so sweet a change. 
 
 I could not choose but weep, if you'd have kill'd me, 
 
 With such an overplus of joy it fill'd me: 
 
 I will be merry, if you can forgive ; 
 
 Wanting your love, it is a hell to live: 
 
 I was to blame; but I'll do so no more.' 
 
 Scarce had she spoke the word; but a fell boar 
 Rush'd from the wood, enrag'd by a deep wound 
 Some huntsman gave him : up he ploughs the ground, 
 And whetting of his tusks, about 'gan roam, 
 Champing his venom's moisture into foam. 
 
 B3 
 
10 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Thealma and her maid, half dead with fear, 
 
 Cried out for help ; their cry soon reach'd his ear, 
 
 And he came snuffling tow'rd them : still they cry, 
 
 And fear gave wings unto them as they fly. 
 
 The sheep ran bleating o'er the pleasant plain, 
 
 And airy Echo answers them again ; 
 
 Redoubling of their cries to fetch in aid, 
 
 Whilst to the wood the fearful virgins made, 
 
 Where a new fear assay'd them : 'twas their hap 
 
 To meet the boar's pursuer in the gap 
 
 With his sword drawn, and all besmear'd with gore, 
 
 Which made their case more desperate than before, 
 
 As they imagined ; yet so well as fear 
 
 And doubt would let them, as the man drew near 
 
 They 'mplor'd his help: he minds them not, but 
 
 spying 
 
 The chafed boar in a thick puddle lying, 
 Tow'rds him he makes ; the boar was soon aware, 
 And with a hideous noise sucks in the air. 
 Upon his guard he stands, his tusks new whets, 
 And up on end his grisly bristles sets. 
 His wary foe went traversing his ground, 
 Spying out where was best to give a wound. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 11 
 
 A iid now Thealma's fears afresh began 
 
 To seize on her ; her care's now for the man, 
 
 Lest the adventurous youth should get some hurt, 
 
 Or die untimely : up the boar flings the dirt 
 
 Died crimson with his blood : his foe at length 
 
 Watching his time, and doubling of his strength, 
 
 Gave him a wound so deep, it let out life, 
 
 And set a bloody period to their strife. 
 
 But he bled too, a little gash he got, 
 
 As he clos'd with him, which he minded not; 
 
 Only Thealma's fears made it appear 
 
 More dangerous than it was, longing to hear 
 
 Her lifers-preserver speak : then down she falls, 
 
 And on the gods, in thanks, for blessing calls. 
 
 To recompense his valour. He drew near, 
 
 And smiling lifts her up, when as a tear 
 
 Dropping into his wound, he gave a start, 
 
 Love in that pearl stole down into his heart. 
 
 He was but young, scarce did the hair begin 
 In shadows to write man upon his chin : 
 Tall and well set, his hair a chesnut brown, 
 His looks majestic, 'twixt a smile and frown; 
 Yet smear'd with blood, and all bedew'd with sweat 
 One could not know him : by this time the heat 
 
12 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Was well-nigh slak'd, and SoPs unwearied team 
 
 Hies to refresh them in the briny stream. 
 
 The stranger ey'd her earnestly, and she 
 
 As earnestly desir'd that she might see 
 
 His perfect visage. To the river side 
 
 She tales him on ; still he Thealma eyed, 
 
 But not a word he spake, which she desir'd : 
 
 The more he look* d, the more his heart was fir'd. 
 
 Down both together sate, and while he wash'd, 
 
 She dress'd his wound which the boar lately gash'd ; 
 
 And having wip'd, he kiss'd her for her care, 
 
 When as a blush begot 'twixt joy and fear 
 
 Made her seem what he took her for, his love; 
 
 And this invention he had to prove, 
 
 Whether she was Clarinda, aye or no : 
 
 For so his mistress' hight. ' Did not you know 
 
 The prince Anaxus?' Now Thealma knew 
 
 Not whether it were best speak false or true. 
 
 She knew he was Anaxus, and her brother, 
 
 And from a child she took him for no other; 
 
 Yet knew she not what danger might ensue, 
 
 If she disclosed herself: her telling true 
 
 Perhaps might work her ruin, and a lie 
 
 Might rend her from his heart, worse than to die. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 13 
 
 But she, being unwilling to be known, 
 Answer'd his query with this question : 
 
 * Did not you know Thealma?' at the name 
 Amaz'd he started ; ' What then, lovely dame? 
 Suppose I did? would I could say I do;' 
 With that he wept, she fell a melting too, 
 
 And with a flood of tears she thanks her brother: 
 No danger can a true affection smother. 
 He wipes her eyes, she weeps again afresh, 
 And sheds more tears t' enrich her thankfulness. 
 Sorrow had tied up both their tongues so fast, 
 Love found no vent, but through their eyes; at last, 
 Anaxus blushing at his childish tears, 
 Rous'd up himself, and the sad virgin cheers. 
 
 * And knew you that Thealma? (sweet) 7 said he ; 
 ' I did/ replied Thealma, * I am she: 
 
 Look well upon me ; sorrow's not so unkind 
 
 So to transform me, but your eye may find 
 
 A sister's stamp upon me :' * Lovely maid, 
 
 How fain I would believe thee/ the youth said, 
 
 ' But she was long since drown'd: in the proud deep, 
 
 She and her bold Clearchus sweetly sleep, 
 
 In those soft beds of darkness ; and in dreams 
 
 Embrace each other, spight of churlish streams/ 
 
16 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Homeward Anaxus and Thealina wend, 
 Where we must leave them for a while, to end 
 The story of their sorrows. 
 
 Night being come, 
 
 A time when all repair unto some home, 
 Save the poor fisherman, that still abides 
 Out-watching care in tending on the tides. 
 Rhotus was yet at sea, and as his ketch 
 Tack'd to and fro, the scanty wind to snatch, 
 He spied a frigate, and as night gave leave 
 Through Cynthia's brightness he might well perceive 
 It was of Lernnos; and as it drew near, 
 From the becalmed bark he well might hear 
 A voice that hail'd him; asking whence he was? 
 He answered, from Arcadia. In that place 
 Were many little islands, calPd of old 
 Rupillas, from the many rocks they hold, 
 A most frequented place for fish; in vain 
 They trimm'd their flagging sails to stem the main. 
 But scarce a breath of wind was stirring, when 
 The master hail'd the fisherman again : 
 And letting fall an anchor, beckon'd him 
 To come aboard. Rhotus delay'd no time, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 17 
 
 But makes unto the ship; he soon got thither, 
 
 Using his oars to outdo the weather. 
 
 His ketch he hooks unto the frigate's stern, 
 
 And up the ship he climbs; he might discern 
 
 At his first entry such a sad aspect 
 
 In all the passengers, he might collect 
 
 Out of their looks, that some misfortune had 
 
 Lately befall'n them, they were all so sad. 
 
 One Amongst the rest there was, a grave old man, 
 
 (To whom they all stood bare) that thus began : 
 
 * Welcome, kind friend, nay sit, what bark ? with fish ? 
 
 Canst thou afford for Lemnian coin a dish V 
 
 ' Yes, master, that I can, a good dish too; 
 
 And as they like you, pay me ; I will go 
 
 And fetch them strait/ He did so, and was paid 
 
 To his content : the fish were ready made, 
 
 And down they sate, the better sort and worse 
 
 Far'd all alike, it was their constant course; 
 
 Four to a mess ; and to augment their fare, 
 
 The second courses, good discourses were. 
 
 Amongst their various talk, the grave old lord, 
 
 (For so he was) that hail'd the ketch aboard, 
 
 Thus question'd Rhotus : < Honest fisher, tell 
 
 What news affords Arcadia ; thou knowest well : 
 
14 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 The very name Clearchus chilled her veins, 
 
 And like an unmov'd statue she remains, 
 
 Pale as Death's self, till with a warm love-kiss, 
 
 He thaw'd her icy coldness ; such power is 
 
 In the sweet touch of love. ' Sweet soul/ said he, 
 
 ' Be comforted, the sorrow longs to me. 
 
 Why should the sad relation of a woe 
 
 You have no interest in, make you grieve so V 
 
 ' No interest,' said she, * Yes, Anaxus, know 
 
 I am a greater sharer in't than you. 
 
 Have you forgot your sister? I am she, 
 
 The hapless poor Thealma, and to me 
 
 Belongs the sorrow ; you but grieve in vain 
 
 If 't be for her, since she is found again/ 
 
 ' Are you not then Clarinda?' said the youth, 
 
 * 'Twere cruelty to mock me with untruth : 
 
 Your speech is hers, and in your looks I read 
 
 Her lovely character: sweet virgin lead 
 
 Me from this labyrinth of doubts, whatever 
 
 You are, there is in you so much of her 
 
 That I both love and honour you.' c Fair sir/ 
 
 Answered Thealma, smiling, * why of her 
 
 Make you so strict inquiry, is your eye 
 
 So dazzled with her beauty, that poor I 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 15 
 
 Must lose the name of sister? say you love her, 
 
 Can your love make you cease to be a brother?' 
 
 Whereat from forth her bosom, next the heart, 
 
 She pluck'd a little tablet, whereon Art 
 
 Had wrought her skill ; and opening it, said she, 
 
 4 Do you not know this picture? let that be 
 
 The witness of the truth which I have told.' 
 
 With that Anaxus could no longer hold, 
 
 But falling on her neck, with joy he kiss'd her, 
 
 Saying, * thanks heaven, hVst thou then, my dear 
 
 sister ! 
 
 My lov'd Thealma! wert not thou cast away? 
 What happy hand hath sav'd thee?' But the day 
 Was then far spent ; 'twas time to think on home, 
 And her Caretta, all amaz'd, was come, 
 And waited her commands: the fiery sun 
 Went blushing down at the short race he run ; 
 The mangold shuts up her golden flowers. 
 And the sweet song-birds hied unto their bowers. 
 Night-swaying Morpheus clothes the east in black, 
 And Cynthia following her brother's track 
 With new and brighter rays, her self adorns, 
 Lighting the starry tapers at her horns. 
 
18 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Who rules that free-born state, under what laws, 
 
 Or civil government remain they? what's the cause 
 
 Of their late falling out ?' Rhotus replies, 
 
 And as he spake the tears stood in his eyes : 
 
 ' As well as grief will let me, worthy sir, 
 
 Though I shall prove but a bad chronicler 
 
 Of state affairs, yet with your gentle leave 
 
 I'll tell you all I know; nor will I weave 
 
 Any untruths in my discourse, or raise, 
 
 By flattering mine own countrymen, a praise 
 
 Their worth ne'er merited; what I shall tell 
 
 Is nothing but the truth ; then mark me well." 
 
 Then quiet silence shut up their discourse, 
 Scarce was a whisper heard, suck a strange force 
 Hath novelty ; it makes us swift to hear, 
 And to the speaker chains the greedy ear. 
 * Arcadia was of old/ said he, * a state 
 Subject to none but their own laws and fate : 
 Superior there was none, but what old age 
 And hoary hairs had rais'd; the wise and sage, 
 Whose gravity, when they are rich in years, 
 Begat a civil reverence more than fears 
 In the well-manner'd people ; at that day 
 All was in common, every man bare sway 
 
THRALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 19 
 
 O'er his own family; the jars that rose 
 Were soon appeas'd by such grave men as those : 
 This mine and thine, that we so cavil for, 
 Was then not heard of; he that was most poor 
 Was rich in his content, and liv'd as free 
 As they whose flocks were greatest, nor did he 
 Envy his great abundance, nor the other 
 Disdain the low condition of his brother, 
 But lent him from his store to mend his state, 
 And with his love he quits him, thanks his fate ; 
 And taught by his example, seeks out such 
 As want his help, that they may do as much. 
 Their laws, e'en from their childhood, rich and poor 
 Had written in their hearts by conning o'er, 
 The legacies of good old men, whose memories 
 Outlive their monuments, the grave advice 
 They left behind in writing : this was that 
 That made Arcadia then so blest a state, 
 Their wholesome laws had link'd them so in one, 
 They liv'd in peace and sweet communion. 
 Peace brought forth plenty, plenty bred content, 
 And that crown'd all their pains with merriment. 
 They had no foe, secure they liv'd in tents, 
 All was their own they had, they paid no rents; 
 
20 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Their sheep found clothing, earth provided food, 
 
 And labour drest them as their wills thought good ; 
 
 On unbought delicates their hunger fed, 
 
 And for their drink the swelling clusters bled: 
 
 The vallies rang with their delicious strains, 
 
 And pleasure revel'd on those happy plains, 
 
 Content and Labour gave them length of days, 
 
 And Peace served in delight a thousand ways. 
 
 The golden age before Deucalion's flood 
 
 Was not more happy, nor the folk more good. 
 
 But Time that eats the children he begets, 
 
 And is less satisfied the more he eats, 
 
 Led on by Fate that terminates all things, 
 
 Ruin'd our state, by sending of us kings: 
 
 Ambition (Sin's first-born) the bane of state, 
 
 Stole into men, puffing them up with hate 
 
 And emulous desires ; love waxed cold, 
 
 And into iron froze the age of gold. 
 
 The laws 7 contempt made cruelty step in, 
 
 And 'stead of curbing animated sin, 
 
 The rich man tramples on the poor man's back, 
 
 Raising his fortunes by his brother's wrack. 
 
 The wronged poor necessity 'gan teach 
 
 To live by rapine, stealing from the rich. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 21 
 
 The temples, which devotion had erected 
 In honour of the gods, were now neglected ; 
 No altar smokes with sacrificed beasts, 
 No incense offer'd, no love-strength'ning feasts. 
 Men's greedy avarice made gods, of clay, 
 Their gold and silver: field to field they lay, 
 And house to house ; no matter how 'twas got, 
 The hands of justice they regarded not. 
 Like a distempered body fever-shaken, 
 When with combustion every limb is taken : 
 The head wants ease, the heavy eyes want sleep, 
 The beating pulse no just proportion keep; 
 The tongue talks idly, reason cannot rule it, 
 And the heart fires the air drawn in to cool it. 
 The palate relisheth no meat, the ear's 
 But ill affected with the sweets it hears. 
 The hands deny their aid to help him up, 
 And fall, as to his lips they lift the cup. 
 The legs and feet disjointed, and useless, 
 Shrinking beneath the burthen of the flesh. 
 Such was Arcadia then, till Clitus reign'd, 
 The first and best of kings that e'er obtained 
 Th' Arcadian sceptre : he piec'd up the state, 
 And made it somewhat like to fortunate. 
 
22 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 He dying without issue on the sudden, 
 
 Heav'n nip'd their growing glory in the budding: 
 
 They choose Philemon, one of Clitus' race, 
 
 To sway the sceptre, a hrave youth he was, 
 
 As wise as valiant, had he been as chaste, 
 
 Arcadia had been happy ; but his lust 
 
 LevePd Arcadia's glory with the dust. 
 
 There was a noble shepherd, Stremon hight, 
 
 As good as great, whose virtues had of right 
 
 Better deserv'd a crown, had severe fate 
 
 But pleased to smile so then upon our state. 
 
 He had one only daughter, young and fair, 
 
 Most richly qualitied, and which was rare, 
 
 In the same looser age divinely chaste ; 
 
 Though sued to by no mean ones, yet at last 
 
 Her father match'd her to a shepherd's son, 
 
 Equal in birth and fortune ; such a one 
 
 As merited the double dower she brought, 
 
 Both of her wealth and virtue: heav'n had wrought 
 
 Their minds so both alike: his noble sire 
 
 Was Clitus named, to whose Thracian lyre 
 
 The shepherds wont to tune their pipes, and frame 
 
 Their curious madrigals. The virgin's name 
 
 Was Castabella, Clitus his brave son, 
 
 Lysander hight. The nuptials being done, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 23 
 
 To which the king came willingly a guess ; 
 
 Each one repaired unto their business, 
 
 The charge of their own flocks ; the nobler sort 
 
 Accompanied the king unto the court : 
 
 The meaner rout of shepherds and their swains, 
 
 With hook and scrip went jogging to the plains. 
 
 Scarce had the sun (that then at Cancer inn'd) 
 
 Twice measured the earth, when Love struck blind 
 
 The lustful king, whose amorous desires 
 
 Grew into lawless passions, and strange fires, 
 
 That none but Castabella would serve turn 
 
 To quench his flames, though she had made them burn, 
 
 He had the choice of many fair ones too, 
 
 And well descended : kings need not to woo ; 
 
 The very name will bring a nun to bed, 
 
 Ambition values not a maidenhead ; 
 
 But he likes none, none but the new-wed wife 
 
 Must be the umpire to decide the strife. 
 
 He casts about to get what he desir'd, 
 
 The more he plots, the more his heart is fir'd ; 
 
 He knew her chaste and virtuous, no weak bars 
 
 T* oppose the strongest soldier in Love's wars. 
 
 He knew her father powerful, well-beloved, 
 
 Both for his wisdom and good deeds approved, 
 
24 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Among the giddy rout; as for his son, 
 
 His own demerit spake him such a one 
 
 As durst revenge; nor could he want for friends 
 
 To second his attempts in noble ends. 
 
 Still the king burns, and still his working brain 
 
 Plots and displots, thinks and unthinks again. 
 
 At length his will resolv'd him in this sort, 
 
 Stremon and Clitus both were yet at court, 
 
 Busied in state affairs ; Lysander he 
 
 Was where a husband lately wed should be, 
 
 At home a weaning of his wife's desires, 
 
 From her old sire, to warm her at his fires. 
 
 As hapless hap would have it, it fell out 
 
 That at that time a rude uncivil rout 
 
 Of out-law'd mutineers, had gathered head 
 
 Upon the frontiers, as their fury led, 
 
 Burning and spoiling all ; the council sit 
 
 Advising to suppress them ; 'twas thought fit 
 
 Some strength should go against them, all this made 
 
 For the king's purpose. Then a care was had 
 
 Who should conduct those forces, some were nam'd, 
 
 The choice one likes, is by another blam'd. 
 
 Philemon gives them line enough, for he 
 
 Had 'fore projected who the man should be ; 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 25 
 
 Yet held his peace, 'twas not his cue as yet 
 To speak his mind ; at length they do intreat 
 That he would name the man : the king did so, 
 Lysander was the man, he nam'd to go : 
 His judgment was agreed on ; th r two old men, 
 Stremon and Clitus, thought them honoured, when 
 They heard him name Lysander, and with glad ears 
 Welcome his killing favour without fears. 
 He makes him captain of his strongest fort, 
 Thus Wolf-like he did welcome him to court. 
 The days were set for his dispatch ; mean space 
 He takes his leave of his wife's chaste embrace: 
 It little boots her love to weep him back, 
 Nor stood it with his honour to be slack 
 In such a noble enterprize ; he went 
 Arm'd with strong hopes, and the king's blandish- 
 ment. 
 
 No sooner was he gone, but the sly king, 
 Rid of his chiefest fears, began to sing 
 A requiem to his thoughts: th' affairs of state 
 He left unto his nobles to debate; 
 And minds his sport, the hunting of the hare, 
 The fox and wolf, this took up all his care. 
 
 ,c 
 
2(5 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Upon a day, as in a tedious chase, 
 
 He lost his train that did out-ride his race ; 
 
 Or rather of set purpose slacked his course, 
 
 Intending to excuse it on his horse, 
 
 He stole to Stremon's lodge, the day was spent, 
 
 The fittest time to act his foul intent. 
 
 He knocks at Stremon's lodge, but no man hears, 
 
 All were abed, and sleep had charm'd their ears, 
 
 He knocks again ; with that he heard a groan, 
 
 Powerful enough fhave turn'd a cruel one 
 
 From his bad purpose. ' Who's within/ said he, 
 
 * If j r ou be good folks, rise and pity me. 1 
 
 But none replied : another groan he hears, 
 
 And cruel Fortune drew him by the ears 
 
 To what he wish'd for. Castabella yet 
 
 Was not in bed, sorrow denied to let 
 
 Her moist eyes sleep, for her increasing fears 
 
 Conspir'd to keep them open, with her tears. 
 
 A little from the lodge, on the descent 
 
 Of the small hill it stood on, a way bent 
 
 Unto an orchard thick with trees beset ; 
 
 Through which there ran a chrystal rivulet, 
 
 Whose purling streams that wrangled with the stones, 
 
 In trembling accents, echo'd back her groans. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. '27 
 
 Here in an arbour Castabella sate, 
 Full of sad thoughts, and most disconsolate, 
 The door was ope, and in Philemon steals, 
 But in a bush a while himself conceals, 
 Till he the voice might more distinctly hear, 
 And better be resolved that she was there ; 
 And so he did: Fortune his bawd became, 
 And led him on to lust. The fearless dame, 
 After a deep-fetched sigh, thus faintly spake, 
 1 O my Lysander, why would'st thou not take 
 Me along with thee V then a flood of tears 
 Clos'd up her lips; when this had reached his ears, 
 Like a fell wolf he rush'd upon his prey, 
 Stopping her cries with kisses : weep she may, 
 And lift her hands to heaven, but in vain, 
 It was too late for help t ? undo again 
 What he had done. Her honour, more to her 
 Than was her life, the cruel murderer 
 Had robb'd her of, and glories in his prize : 
 It is no news for lust to tyrannize. 
 He thank'd his fortune that did so prevent 
 His first design by shortening his intent. 
 The black deed done, the ravisher hies thence, 
 Leaving his shame to murder innocence : 
 
 c 2 
 
28 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 He had his wish, and that which gilt his sin, 
 
 He knew suspicion could not suspect him. 
 
 Report, the blab-tongue of those tell-tale times, 
 
 That rather magnifies than lessens crimes, 
 
 Slept when this act was done, such thoughts as these 
 
 Sear'd up his conscience with a carelessness. 
 
 Poor Castabella having now lost all, 
 
 That she thought worth the losing, would not call 
 
 For help to be a witness of her shame : 
 
 It was too late, nor did she know his name 
 
 That had undone her : cruel thoughts arise, 
 
 And wanting other vent, break through her eyes. 
 
 Shame prompts to despair, and let out life; 
 
 Revenge advised her to conceal her grief: 
 
 Fear checks revenge, and Honour chides her fear, 
 
 Within her breast such mutinous thoughts there were 
 
 She could resolve on nothing: day then breaks, 
 
 And shame in blushes rose upon her cheeks. 
 
 With that she spies a ring lie at her feet, 
 
 She took it up, and glad she was to see't. 
 
 By this she thought, if Fate so pitied her, 
 
 In time she might find out the ravisher. 
 
 Revenge then whispers in her ear afresh, 
 
 Be bold, she look'd upon't, but could not guess 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 29 
 
 Whose it might be; yet she remember'd well 
 
 She'd seen't before, but where she could not tell. 
 
 With that she threw it from her in disdain, 
 
 Yet thought wrought so she took it up again ; 
 
 And looking better on't, within the ring, 
 
 She spied the name and motto of the king : 
 
 Whereat she starts: 'Oye blest powers!' said she, 
 
 ' Thanks for this happy strange discovery/ 
 
 She wrap'd it up, and to the lodge she went 
 
 To study some revenge ; 'twas her intent 
 
 By some device to 'tice Philemon thither, 
 
 And there to end his life and her's together: 
 
 But that was cross'd, Lysander back returns 
 
 Crown 'd with a noble victory, and horns 
 
 That he ne'er dream'd of: to his wife he goes, 
 
 And finds her weeping, no content she shows 
 
 At his safe coming back ; but speaks in tears : 
 
 He lov'd too well to harbour jealous fears. 
 
 He wip'd her eyes, and kiss'd her to invite 
 
 A gentle welcome from her if he might: 
 
 But 'twould not be ; he ask'd her why she wept, 
 
 And who had wrong'd her; still she silence kept, 
 
 And turns away : then he began to doubt 
 
 All was not well ; to find the matter out, 
 
30 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 He tries all means ; and first with mild entreats 
 
 He woos her to disclose it : then with threats 
 
 He seeks to wring it from her. Much ado 
 
 She told him the sad story of her woe. 
 
 The ring confirmed the truth of her report : 
 
 And he believ'd her. Straight he hies to court 
 
 T' acquaint his fathers with it. All three vow 
 
 To be reveng'd, but first they study how. 
 
 Well, to be brief, they muster up their friends, 
 
 And now Philemon 'gan to guess their ends, 
 
 And counter-works t' oppose them, gathers strength 
 
 And boldly goes to meet them ; at the length 
 
 They battle join. Philemon put to flight, 
 
 And many thousands butcher'd in the fight; 
 
 'Mongst whom old Stremon fell, whose noble spirit 
 
 Out-did his age, and by his brave merit 
 
 Did gain himself so glorious a name, 
 
 Arcadia to this day adores the same. 
 
 Lysander's wrongs spur'd on his swift pursuit 
 
 After Philemon, when a sudden shout 
 
 Amongst his soldiers caus'd him sound retreat, 
 
 Fearing some mutiny all in a sweat 
 
 A messenger ran toward him, crying out, 
 
 * Return, my lord, the cunning wolfs found out, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 31 
 
 Philemon's slain, and you proclaimed king:' 
 
 With that again the echoing rallies ring. 
 
 The foe it seems had wheel'd about a meer 
 
 In policy to set upon the rear 
 
 Of bold Lysander's troops; they fac'd about 
 
 And met his charge; when a brave youth step'd out 
 
 And singles forth the king: they used no words, 
 
 The cause was to be pleaded with their swords, 
 
 Which anger whet : no blow was giv'n in vain, 
 
 Now they retire, and then come on again ; 
 
 Like two wild boars for mastery they strive, 
 
 And many wounds on either side they give: 
 
 Then grappling both together, both fell down, 
 
 Fainting for want of blood; when with a frown 
 
 As killing as his sword, the brave youth gave 
 
 His foe a wound that sent him to his grave. 
 
 4 Take that, thou murderer of my honour's name,' 
 
 Said the brave youth, or rather the brave dame ; 
 
 For so it prov'd : yet her disguise was such, 
 
 The sharpest eye could not discern so much, 
 
 Until Lysander came, his piercing eye 
 
 Soon found who 'twas, he knew her presently ; 
 
 'Twas Castabella, his unhappy wife, 
 
 Who losing honour, would not keep her life; 
 
32 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 But thrusts herself into the midst of danger, 
 To seek out death, and would have died a stranger 
 Unto Lysander's knowledge ; had not he 
 Informed the world it could be none but she 
 That durst win honour so. The noble dame 
 Was not quite dead whenas Lysander came, 
 Who stooping down to kiss her, with his tears 
 T' embalm her for a grave, herself she rears, 
 And meeting his embrace ; ' Welcome,' said she, 
 1 Welcome, Lysander ; since I have seen thee 
 I dare Death's worst :' then sinking down she died, 
 The honour of her sex : all means were tried 
 To call back life, but medicines came late, 
 Her blood was spent, and she subscribes to fate. 
 Lysander was about to sacrifice 
 Himself t' appease th' incensed destinies ; 
 And had not one step'd in and held his hand, 
 He'd done the deed, and so undone the land. 
 Peace was proclaim'd to all that would submit 
 On the foe's side : the soldiers dig a pit 
 And tumble in Philemon, none there were, 
 Or friend or foe, that seem'd to shed a tear 
 To deck his hearse withal. Thus his base lust 
 Untimely laid his glory in the dust, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 33 
 
 But Castabella she out-liv'd her shame, 
 And shepherd swains still carol out her fame. 
 She needs no poet's pen to mount it high, 
 Lysander wept her out an elegy. 
 Her obsequies once o'er, the king was crown'd, 
 And war's loud noise with peals of joy was drown'd: 
 Janus's temple was shut up, and Peace 
 Usher'd in Plenty by their flocks' increase ; 
 But long it lasted not, Philemon's friends 
 Soon gather'd head again. Lysander sends 
 Some force against them, but with bad success, 
 The foe prevails, and seals their hardiness. 
 Lysander goes in person and is slain, 
 Philemon's friends then make a king again; 
 A hot-spur'd youth, hight Hylas, such a one 
 As pride had fitted for commotion. 
 
 About that time, in a tempestuous night, 
 A ship that by misfortune chanc'd to light 
 Upon the rocks that are upon our coast, 
 Was split to pieces, all the lading lost, 
 And all the passengers, save a young man 
 That Fortune rescued from the ocean. 
 
 c3 
 
34 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 When day was broke, and I put out to sea, 
 
 To fish out a poor living; by the lea 
 
 As I was coasting, I might well espy 
 
 The carcass of a ship : my man and I 
 
 Made straight-way toward it, and with wind and oar, 
 
 We quickly reach'd it, 'twas not far from shore, 
 
 About some half a league; we view'd the wreck 
 
 But found no people in't, when looking back, 
 
 Upon a shelving rock, a man we spied 
 
 As we thought, dead, and cast up by the tide : 
 
 But by good-hap he was not, yet well-nigh 
 
 Starved with the cold, and the sea's cruelty. 
 
 We thaw'd him into life again, but he, x 
 
 As if he relish'd not our charity, 
 
 Seem'd to be angry; and had we not been, 
 
 The youth had leaped into the sea again, [potions, 
 
 Perforce we brought him home, where with warm 
 
 We thaw'd his numbed joints into their motions, 
 
 And chiding his despair, with good advice 
 
 I warm'd his hopes that else had froze to ice. 
 
 A braver youth mine eye ne'er look'd upon, 
 
 Nor of a sweeter disposition. 
 
 Old Cleon could no longer silence keep, 
 
 But ask'd his name, and as he ask'd did weep. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 35 
 
 ' Was he your friend/ quoth Rliotus, ' he's alive, 
 
 Knew you as much as I, you would not grieve, 
 
 He calls himself Alexis, now our king, 
 
 And long may we enjoy his governing: 
 
 But he forgets who sav'd his life ; great men 
 
 Seldom remember to look down again. 
 
 There was a time when I'd have scorn'd to crave 
 
 A thanks from any, till a churlish wave 
 
 Wash'd off my friends, and thrust me from the court, 
 
 To dwell with labour ; but I thank them for't. 
 
 Content dwells not at court; but I have done, 
 
 And if you please, my lord, I will go on 
 
 Where I left off a while : Hylas being king, 
 
 Puff' d up with pride, by often conquering, 
 
 He fell to riot, king and people both 
 
 Laid arms aside to fall in love with sloth. 
 
 The downs were unfrequented, shepherd swains 
 
 Were very rarely seen to haunt the plains. 
 
 The plough lay still, the earth manuring needs, 
 
 And 'stead of corn brought forth a crop of weeds. 
 
 No courts of justice kept, no law observed, 
 
 No hand to punish such as ill deserved, 
 
 Their will was then their law, who durst resist, 
 
 Hylas connives, and all did what they list. 
 
36 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Lysander's friends were scatter'd here and there, 
 
 And hVd obscurely circled in with fear. 
 
 Some till'd the ground, whilst others fed their flocks, 
 
 Under the covert of some hanging rocks. 
 
 Others fell'd wood, and some dye weavy yarn 
 
 The women spun; thus all were forc'd to earn 
 
 Their bread by sweaty labour : Amongst the many, 
 
 I and some others fish'd to get a penny. 
 
 And had I but my daughter, which I lost 
 
 In the foe's hot pursuit ; (for without boast, 
 
 She was a good one) I should think me blest, 
 
 Nor would I change my calling with the best. 
 
 She was my only comfort; but she's dead, 
 
 Or, which is worse, I fear me ravished. 
 
 But I digress too much : upon a day 
 
 When care's triumphs gave us leave to play, 
 
 We all assembled on a spacious green, 
 
 To tell old tales, and choose our Summer's queen. 
 
 Thither Alexis, my late shipwreck'd guest, 
 
 At my intreaty came, and 'mongst the rest, 
 
 In their disports made one ; no exercise 
 
 Did come amiss to him ; for all he tries, 
 
 And won the prize in all : the graver sort 
 
 That minded more their safety than their sport, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 37 
 
 'Gan to bethink them on their former state, 
 
 And on their country's factions ruminate. 
 
 They had intelligence how matters went 
 
 In Hylas' court, whose people's minds were bent 
 
 To nought but idleness ; that fruitful sin 
 
 That never bears a child that's not a twin. 
 
 They heard they had unman'd themselves by ease, 
 
 And how security like a disease 
 
 Spread o'er their dwellings, how their profus'd hand 
 
 Squander'd away the plenty of the land : 
 
 How civil discords sprang up ev'ry hour, [power 
 
 And quenchM themselves in blood; how the law's 
 
 Was wholly slighted, Justice made a jeer, 
 
 And sins unheard of practis'd without fear. 
 
 The state was sick at heart, and now or never 
 
 Was time to cure it: all consult together, 
 
 How to recover what they lost of late, 
 
 Their liberty and means ; long they debate 
 
 About the matter: all resolve to fight, 
 
 And by the law of arms to plead their right. 
 
 But now they want a head, and whom to trust 
 
 They could not well resolve on, choose they must 
 
 One of necessity : the civil wars 
 
 Had scarce left any that durst trade for scars. 
 
38 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 The flower of youth was gone, save four or five 
 
 Were left to keep Arcadia's fame alive ; 
 
 Yet all too young to govern, all about 
 
 They view the youth, to single some one out. 
 
 By this time they had crown'd Alexis' brow 
 
 With wreaths of bays, and all the youth allow 
 
 Of him a victor ; many odes they sing 
 
 In praise of him ; then to the bower they bring 
 
 Their noble champion, where as they were wont, 
 
 They lead him to a little turfy mount 
 
 Erected for that purpose, where all might 
 
 Both hear and see the victor with delight. 
 
 He had a man-like look, and sparkling eye, 
 
 A front whereon sate such a majesty 
 
 As awed all his beholders ; his long hair, 
 
 After the Grecian fashion, without care 
 
 Hung loosely on his shoulders, black as jet, 
 
 And shining with his oily honoured sweat; 
 
 His body straight, and well proportioned, tall, 
 
 Well limb'd, well set, long arm'd; one hardly shall 
 
 Among a thousand find one in all points, 
 
 So well compact, and sinew'd in his joints. 
 
 But that which crown'd the rest, he had a tongue 
 
 Whose sweetness toald unwillingness along, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 39 
 
 And drew attention from the dullest ear, 
 His words so oily smooth, and winning were. 
 
 Rhotus was going on when day appear'd, 
 And with its light the cloudy welkin cleared. 
 They heard the milk-maids halloo home their kine, 
 And to the troughs knock in their straggling swine. 
 The birds 'gan sing, the calves and lambkins bleat, 
 Wanting the milky breakfast of a teat, 
 With that he brake off his discourse, intending 
 Some fitter time to give his story ending. 
 Some household business calPd his care ashore, 
 And Cleon thought on what concerned him more. 
 His men weigh anchor, and with Rhotus sail 
 Toward the land ; they had so strong a gale, 
 They quickly reach'd the port where Rhotus dwelt, 
 Who with old Cleon with fair words so dealt, 
 He won him to his cell ; where as his guest 
 We'll leave him, earnest to hear out the rest. 
 
 By this time had Anaxus ta'en his leave 
 Of his kind sister, that afresh can grieve 
 For his departure, she entreats in vain, 
 And spends her tears to wash him back again, 
 
40 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 But 'twould not be ; he leaves her to her woes, 
 
 And in the search of his Clarinda goes. 
 
 He scarce had traveled two days' journey thence, 
 
 When hieing to a shade, for his defence 
 
 'Gainst the Sun's scorching heat, who then began 
 
 T' approach the point of the meridian : 
 
 Within a little silent grove hard by, 
 
 Upon a small ascent, he might espy 
 
 A stately chapel, richly gilt without, 
 
 Beset with shady sycamores about: 
 
 And ever and anon he might well hear 
 
 A sound of music steal in at his ear 
 
 As the wind gave it being: so sweet an air 
 
 Would strike a syren mute and ravish her. 
 
 He sees no creature that might cause the same, 
 
 But he was sure that from the grove it came. 
 
 And to the grove he goes to satisfy 
 
 The curiosity of ear and eye. 
 
 Thorough the thick-leav'd boughs he makes a way, 
 
 Nor could the scratching brambles make him stay; 
 
 But on he rushes, and climbs up the hill, 
 
 Thorough a glade he saw and heard his fill. 
 
 A hundred virgins there he might espy 
 
 Prostrate before a marble deity, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 41 
 
 Which, by its portraiture, appeared to be 
 
 The image of Diana: on their knee 
 
 They tendered their devotions : with sweet airs, 
 
 Off 'ring the incense of their praise and prayers. 
 
 Their garments all alike ; beneath their paps 
 
 Buckled together with a silver claps, 
 
 And cross their snowy silken robes, they wore 
 
 An azure scarf, with stars embroidered o'er. 
 
 Their hair in curious tresses was knit up, 
 
 Crown'd with a silver crescent on the top. 
 
 A silver bow their left hand held, their right, 
 
 For their defence, held a sharp-headed flight 
 
 Drawn from their broid'red quiver, neatly tied 
 
 In silken cords, and fasten'd to their side. 
 
 Under their vestments, something short before, 
 
 White buskins, lac'd with ribbanding, they wore. 
 
 It was a catching sight for a young eye, 
 
 That Love had nYd before: he might espy 
 
 One, whom the rest had sphere-like circled round, 
 
 Whose head was with a golden chaplet crown'd. 
 
 He could not see her face, only his ear 
 
 Was blest with the sweet words that came from her. 
 
 He was about removing; when a crew 
 
 Of lawless thieves their horny trumpets blew. 
 
42 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 And from behind the temple unawares 
 
 Rush'd in upon them, busy at their prayers. 
 
 The virgins to their weak resistance fly, 
 
 And made a show as if they meant to try 
 
 The mastery by opposing ; but, poor souls, 
 
 They soon gave back, and ran away in shoals. 
 
 Yet some were taken, such as scorn of fear 
 
 Had left behind to fortify the rear. 
 
 'Mongst whom their queen was one, a braver maid 
 
 Anaxus ne'er beheld ; she sued and pray'd 
 
 For life, to those that had no pity left, 
 
 Unless in murdering those they had bereft 
 
 Of honour. This incens'd Anaxus' rage, 
 
 And in he rush'd, unlook'd-for on that stage : 
 
 Then out his sword he draws, and dealt such blows 
 
 That struck amazement in his numerous foes. 
 
 Twenty to one there were, too great an odds, 
 
 Had not his cause drawn succour from the gods. 
 
 The first he coped with was their captain, whom 
 
 His sword sent headless to seek out a tomb. 
 
 This cowarded the valour of the rest, 
 
 A second drops to make the worms a feast : 
 
 A third and fourth soon follow'd, six he slew. 
 
 And so dismay M the fearful residue, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 43 
 
 That down the hill they fled ; he after hies, 
 
 And fell another villain, as he flies. 
 
 To the thick wood he chac'd them, 'twas in vain 
 
 To follow further; up the hill again 
 
 Weary Anaxus climbs, in hope to find 
 
 The rescued virgins he had left behind. 
 
 But all were gone ; fear lent them wings, and they 
 
 Fled to their home affrighted any way. 
 
 They durst not stay to hazard the event 
 
 Of such a doubtful combat ; yet they lent 
 
 Him many a pray'r to bring on good success, 
 
 And thank'd him for his noble hardiness 
 
 That freed them from the danger they were in, 
 
 And met the shock himself. The virgin queen 
 
 Full little dreamt, what champion Love had brought 
 
 To rescue her bright honour ; had she thought 
 
 It had Anaxus been, she would have shared 
 
 In the adventure howsoever she fared ; 
 
 But Fate was not so pleased, the youth was sad 
 
 To see all gone : the many wounds he had 
 
 Griev'd him not so, as that he did not know 
 
 Her for whose sake he had adventur'd so. 
 
 Yet was he glad whoe'er she was, that he 
 
 Had come so luckily to set them free 
 
44 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 From such a certain thraldom ; night drew on 
 
 And his wounds smarted: no Chirurgeon 
 
 Was near at hand to bind them up, and pour 
 
 His balmy medicines into his sore : 
 
 And surely he had died, but that his heart 
 
 Was yet too stout to yield for want of art. 
 
 Looking about, upon a small ascent 
 
 He spied an old thatch'd house, all to be-rent 
 
 And eaten out by time, and the foul weather, 
 
 Or rather seem'd a piece of ruin; thither 
 
 Anaxus faintly hies, and in the way 
 
 He meets with old Sylvanus, who they say 
 
 Had skill in augury, and could foretell 
 
 Th' event of things : he came then from his cell 
 
 To gather a few herbs and roots ; the cates 
 
 He fed upon: Anaxus him entreats 
 
 To bind his wounds up, and with care t' apply 
 
 Unto his sores some wholesome remedy. 
 
 A trim old man he was, though age had plough 'd 
 
 Up many wrinkles in his brow, and bow'd 
 
 His body somewhat tow'rd the earth ; his hairs 
 
 Like the snow's woolly flakes made white with cares, 
 
 The thorns that now and then pluck'd off the down 
 
 And wore away for baldness to a crown : 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 45 
 
 His broad kemb'd beard hung- down near to his waist, 
 
 The only comely ornament that grac'd 
 
 His reverend old age, his feet were bare 
 
 But for his leathern sandals, which he ware 
 
 To keep them clean from galling, which compell'd 
 
 Him use a staff to help him to the field. 
 
 He durst not trust his legs, they failed him then, 
 
 And he was almost grown a child again: 
 
 Yet sound in judgment, not impaired in mind, 
 
 For age had rather the soul's parts refin'd 
 
 Than any way infirm'd; his wit no less 
 
 Than 'twas in youth, his memory as fresh; 
 
 He faiPd in nothing but his earthly part, 
 
 They tended to its centre; yet his heart 
 
 Was still the same, and beat as lustily: 
 
 For, as it first took life, it would last die. 
 
 Upon the youth with greedy eye he gaz'd, 
 
 And on his staff himself a little raised; 
 
 When with a tear or two with pity pressM, 
 
 From his dry springs, he welcomes his request. 
 
 He needs not much entreaty to do good, 
 
 But having wash'd his wounds and staunch'd the 
 
 He pours in oily balsam ; fits his clothes, [blood, 
 
 And with soft tents he stops their gaping mouths; 
 
46 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Then binds them up, and with a cheerful look 
 
 Welcomes his thankful patient, whom he took 
 
 Home with him to his cell ; whose poor outside 
 
 Promised as mean a lodging; pomp and pride 
 
 (Those peacocks of the time) ne'er roosted there, 
 
 Content and lowliness the inmates were. 
 
 It was not so contemptible within, 
 
 There was some show of beauty that had been 
 
 Made much of in old time, but now well-nigh 
 
 Worn out w r ith envious time ; a curious eye 
 
 Might see some relics of a piece of art 
 
 That Psyche made, when Love first fir'd her heart. 
 
 It was the story of her thoughts, which she 
 
 Curiously wrought in lively imagery ; 
 
 Among the rest, the thought of Jealousy 
 
 Time left untouched, to grace antiquity. 
 
 It was deciphered by a timorous dame, 
 
 Wrap'd in a yellow mantle lin'd with ilame : 
 
 Her looks were pale, contracted with a frown, 
 
 Her eyes suspicious, wand'ring up and down ; 
 
 Behind her, Fear attended big with child, 
 
 Able to fright Presumption, if she smil'd. 
 
 After her flew a sigh, between two springs 
 
 Of briny water ; on her dove-like wings 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 47 
 
 She bore a letter sealM with a half-moon, 
 
 And superscribed, This from suspicion. 
 
 More than this, churlish Time had left no thing 
 
 To show the piece was Psyche's broidering. 
 
 Hither Sylvanus brings him, and with cates, 
 
 Such as our wants may buy at easy rates, 
 
 He feasts his guest ; hunger and sweet content 
 
 Sucks from coarse fare, a courtly nourishment. 
 
 When they had supp'd, they talk an hour or two, 
 
 And each the other questions how things go. 
 
 Sylvanus ask'd him how he came so hurt, 
 
 Anaxus tells him ; and this sad report 
 
 Spins out a long discourse : the youth inquir'd 
 
 What maids they were he rescued, why so 'tir'd : 
 
 What saint it was they worshipp'd,whence the thieves, 
 
 And who that virgin was, that he conceives 
 
 Was queen and sovereign lady of the rest? 
 
 Sylvanus willing to content his guest, 
 
 After a little pause, in a grave tone, 
 
 Thus courteously replied ; quoth he, ' My son, 
 
 To tell a sad relation will, I fear, 
 
 Prove but unseasonable ; a young ear 
 
 Will relish it but harshly ; yet since you 
 
 Desire so much to hear it, I shall do 
 
48 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 My best to answer your desires in all 
 
 That truth hath warranted authentical. 
 
 You are not such a stranger to the state, 
 
 But you have heard of Hylas, who of late 
 
 Back'd by some fugitives, with a strong hand. 
 
 Wrested the crown and sceptre of this land 
 
 From the true owner; this same Hylas when 
 
 He had what his ambition aim'd at ; then 
 
 When he grew wearied with conquering 
 
 His native countrymen, and as a king 
 
 Sate himself down to taste what Fate had dress'd, 
 
 And served up to him at a plenteous feast. 
 
 When the loud clangors of these civil broils 
 
 Were laid aside, and each man view'd the spoils 
 
 He had unjustly gotten, and in peace 
 
 Securely dwelt with idleness and ease ; 
 
 Those moths that fret and eat into a state, 
 
 Until they render it the scorn of Fate. 
 
 Hylas pufTd up with pride, and self-conceit, 
 
 Of his own valour that had made him great, 
 
 In riot and lasciviousness he spends 
 
 His precious hours, and through the kingdom sends 
 
 His pand'ring parasites to seek out gain, 
 
 To quench th' unmaster'd fury of his flame. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 49 
 
 His agents were so cunning, many a maid 
 Were to their honour's loss subtly betrayed, 
 With gifts and golden promises of that 
 Which womanish ambition leveFd at, 
 Greatness and honour ; but they miss'd their aim, 
 Their hopeful harvest proved a crop of shame. 
 Amongst the many beauties that his spies 
 Mark'd out, to offer up a sacrifice 
 Unto his lust, the beauteous Florimei 
 Was one, whose virtue had no parallel : 
 She is old Memnon's daughter, who of late 
 Was banish'd from his country, and by fate 
 Driven upon our coast, and as I guess 
 He was of Lemnos, fam'd for healthfulness. 
 Under this borrow'd name (for so it was, 
 Or else my art doth fail me) he did pass 
 Unknown to any ; in a shepherd's weed 
 He shrouds his honour, now content to feed 
 A flock of sheep, that had fed men before, 
 It is no wonder to see goodness poor. 
 It was his daughter that the lustful king 
 Beast-like, neigh'd after; still his flatterers sing 
 < )des of her praise, to heighten his desires, 
 To swim to pleasure through a hell of fires. 
 
 D 
 
50 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 The tempting- baits were laid, the nets were spread, 
 And gilded o'er to catch a maidenhead; 
 But all in vain, Eugenia would not bite, 
 Nor sell her honour for a base delight. 
 He speaks in letters a dumb eloquence 
 That takes the heart before it reach the sense ; 
 But they were slighted, letters that speak sin 
 Yirtue sends back in scorn : he writes again, 
 And is again repuls'd, he comes himself, 
 And desp'rately casts anchor on the shelf 
 Of his own power and greatness, toles her on 
 To come aboard to her destruction : 
 But she was deaf unto his syren charms, 
 Made wisely wary by another's harms. 
 Her strong repulses were like oil to fires, 
 Strengthening th' increasing heat of his desires. 
 With mild entreats he woos her, and doth swear 
 How that his love's intendments noble were ; 
 And if she'd love him, he protests and vows 
 To make her queen of all the state he owes. 
 But she was fix'd, and her resolves so strong, 
 She vow'd to meet with death, rather than wrong 
 Him unto whom her maiden faith was plight ; 
 And he's no mean one, if my aim hits right. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 51 
 
 When Hylas saw no cunning would prevail 
 To make her his, his angry looks wax'd pale, 
 His heart call'd home the blood to feed revenge, 
 That there sat plotting to work out his ends. 
 At length it hatched this mischief; Memnou's bid 
 To chide his daughter's coyness; so he did, 
 And she became the bolder, chid his checks, 
 And answer'd his injunctions with neglects. 
 Whereat the king enrag'd, laid hands upon her, 
 And was a dragging her to her dishonour, 
 When Memnon's servants, at their mistress' cry 
 Rush'd in, and rescued her, 'twas time to fly, 
 Hylas had else met with a just reward 
 For his foul lust: he had a slender guard, 
 And durst not stand the hazard : Memnon's men 
 Would have pursued, but they came off again 
 At Memnon's call : the woeful Florimel 
 (For so her name was) on the pavement fell, 
 Waiting the stroke of death ; life was about 
 To leave her, had not Memnon found her out. 
 
 Anaxus all this while gave heedful ear 
 To what he spake, and lent him many a tear 
 D 2 
 
52 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 To point out the full stops of his discourse ; 
 
 But that he calls her Florimel, the force 
 
 Of his strong passions had persuaded him 
 
 It had been his Clarinda, (as in time 
 
 The story makes her.) ' Spare thy tears, my son/ 
 
 Said old Sylvanus ; so his tale went on. 
 
 ' These are but sad beginnings of events 
 
 Spun out to Sorrow's height ; the foul intents 
 
 Of Hylas being frustrate, and his fires 
 
 Wanting no fuel to increase desires ; 
 
 He lays a snare to catch his maiden prize 
 
 By murdering her old father ; and his spies 
 
 Were sent to find his haunt out : Memnon, he 
 
 Of old experienced in court policy, 
 
 Wisely forecasts th' event, and studies how 
 
 He might prevent his mischiefs, e'er they grow 
 
 Too ripe and near at hand to be put by, 
 
 By all the art and strength he had ; to die, 
 
 For him that now was old, he nothing cared, 
 
 Death at no time finds goodness unprepared. 
 
 But how he might secure his Florimel, 
 
 That thought most troubled him ; he knew full well 
 
 She was the white was aimed at ; were she sure, 
 
 He made but slight of what he might endure. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 53 
 
 He was but yet a stranger to those friends 
 
 That his true worth had gain'd him, yet intends 
 
 To try some one of them ; anon his fears 
 
 And jealous doubts call back those former cares. 
 
 He thinks on many ways for her defence ; 
 
 But, except heav'n, finds none save innocence. 
 
 Memnon at last resolves next day to send her 
 
 To Vesta's cloister, and there to commend her 
 
 Unto the virgin goddess's protection, 
 
 And to that purpose gave her such direction, 
 
 As fitted her to be a vestal nun, 
 
 And time seem'd tedious till the deed was done. 
 
 The fatal night, before that wish'd-for day, 
 
 When Florimel was to be pack'd away, 
 
 Hylas besets the house with armed men, 
 
 Loth that his lust should be deceived again. 
 
 At midnight they brake in, Memnon arose, 
 
 And e'er he call'd his servants, in he goes 
 
 Into his daughter's chamber, and besmears 
 
 Her breast and hands with blood ; the rest her fears 
 
 Counsel her to; each hand took up a knife 
 
 T' oppose her foe, or let out her own life 
 
 If need should be, to save her honoured name 
 
 From Lust's black sullies, and ne'er dying shame. 
 
54 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Memnon then calls his servants, they arise, 
 
 And wanting light, they make their hands their eyes, 
 
 Like seamen in a storm, about they go, 
 
 At their wits-end, not knowing what to do. 
 
 Down a back stairs they hurried to the hall, 
 
 Where the most noise was ; in they venture all, 
 
 And all were suddenly surprised ; in vain, 
 
 Poor men, they struggle to get loose again. 
 
 A very word was punish'd with a wound, 
 
 Here might they see their aged master bound, 
 
 And though too weak to make resistance, found 
 
 Wounded almost to death; his hoary hairs 
 
 Now near half worn away with age and cares, 
 
 Torn from his head and beard ; he scorn'd to cry, 
 
 Or beg for mercy from their cruelty. 
 
 He far'd the worse because he would not tell 
 
 What was become of his fair Florimel. 
 
 She heard not this, though she set ope her ears 
 
 To listen to the whispers of her fears. 
 
 Sure had she heard how her good father far'd, 
 
 Her very cries would have the doors unbarr'd, 
 
 To let her out to plead his innocence ; 
 
 But he had locked her up in a close room, 
 
 Free from suspicion, and 't had been her tomb, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 55 
 
 Had not the fates prevented; search was made 
 
 In every corner, and great care was had, 
 
 Lest she should 'scape ; but yet they miss'd the lass ; 
 
 They sought her everywhere but where she was. 
 
 Under the bed there was a trap-door made, 
 
 That open'd to a room where Memnon laid 
 
 The treasure and the jewels which he brought 
 
 From Lemnos with him : round about they sought, 
 
 Under and o'er the bed ; in chests they pry, 
 
 And in each hole where scarce a cat might lie; 
 
 But could not find the cunning contrived door 
 
 That open'd bed and all : then down they tore 
 
 The painted hangings, and survey the walls, 
 
 Yet found no by-way out. Then Hylas calls 
 
 To know if they had found her ; they reply, 
 
 She was not there: then with a wrathful eye, 
 
 Looking on Memnon ; ' Doting fool/ said he, 
 
 * Wilt thou not tell me where she is : if she 
 
 Be in this house conceal'd, I have a way 
 
 Shall find her out; if thou hast mind to pray 
 
 Be speedy, thou hast not an hour to live: 
 
 I'll teach thee what it is for to deceive [rather/ 
 
 Him that would honour thee/ * Would shame me 
 
 Auswer'd old Memnon, l and undo a father, 
 
56 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 By shaming of his daughter ; lustful king, 
 
 Call you this honour? death's not such a thing 
 
 As can fright Memnon ; he and I have met 
 
 Up to the knees in blood, and honoured sweat, 
 
 Where his scythe mow'd down legions ; he and I 
 
 Are well acquainted, 'tis no news to die.' 
 
 ' Dost thou so brave it?' Hylas said, * I'll try 
 
 What temper you are made on by and by. 
 
 Set fire upon the house, since you love death 
 
 I'll teach you a new way to let out breath/ 
 
 Tiiis word struck Memnon mute, not that he fear'd 
 
 Death in what shape soever he appear'd ; 
 
 But that his daughter, whom as yet his care 
 
 Had kept from ravishing, should with him share 
 
 In such a bitter potion ; this was that 
 
 Which more than death afflicted him, that Fate 
 
 Should now exact a double sacrifice, 
 
 And prove more cruel than his enemies. 
 
 This struck him to the heart, the house was fired, 
 
 And his sad busy thoughts were well-nigh tired 
 
 With studying what to do : when as a post 
 
 That had out-rid report, brought news the coast 
 
 Shined full of fired beacons, how his lords, 
 
 Instead of sleep, betook themselves to swords. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 57 
 
 How that the foe was near, and meant ere day 
 
 To make his court and treasury their prey. 
 
 How that the soldiers were at their wits' end 
 
 For th' absence of their king, and did intend, 
 
 Unless he did prevent them suddenly, 
 
 To choose a new one. Hylas fearfully 
 
 Did entertain this news, calls back his men, 
 
 And through by-paths he steals to court again, 
 
 Leaving the house on fire ; the thatch was wet, 
 
 And burnt but slowly: Memnon's servants get 
 
 Their master loose, and with their teeth unties 
 
 The bloody cords that binds the sacrifice, 
 
 That Fate was pleas'd to spare ; they quench the fire, 
 
 Whilst he runs to his daughter; both admire 
 
 Their little hop'd-for wond'rous preservation, 
 
 Praising their gods with fervent adoration. 
 
 Next day he shifts his Florimel away 
 
 Unto the vestal cloister, there to stay 
 
 Till he heard how things went, and what success 
 
 Befel the wars; his men themselves address, 
 
 At his command to wait upon the wars, 
 
 To purchase freedom, or by death, or scars. 
 
 Memnon himself keeps home, attended on 
 
 But by a stubbed boy; his daughter gone, 
 
 D3 
 
58 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 His fears 'gan lessen : Hylas was o'erthrown, 
 
 And bold Alexis' conquest gain'd a crown : 
 
 And worthily he wears it; with his reign 
 
 Desired Peace stept on the stage again. , 
 
 The laws were executed, justice done, 
 
 And civil order staid confusion. 
 
 Sloth and her sister ease were banished, 
 
 And all must labour now to get their bread : 
 
 Yet Peace is not so settled, but we find 
 
 Some work for swords ; the foe hath left behind 
 
 Some gleanings of his greater strength, that still 
 
 Commit great outrages, that rob and kill 
 
 All that they meet with, ravishing chaste maids 
 
 Both of their life and honour; some such lads 
 
 Were they that set upon the virgin crew, 
 
 That were redeem'd so worthily by you. 
 
 A hundred virgins monthly do frequent 
 
 Diana's temple, where with pure intent 
 
 They tender their devotions : one is chose 
 
 By lot to be their queen, to whom each owes 
 
 Her best respect, and for this month I guess 
 
 Their queen was Florimel, now votaress/ 
 
 Sylvanus here brake off; 'twas late, and sleep, 
 
 Like lead, hung on their eyelids, heav'n them keep. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCH17S. 59 
 
 We'll leave them to their rest awhile, and tell 
 What to Thealma in this space befel. 
 
 Anaxus had no sooner ta'en his leave 
 Of his glad sister, making her believe 
 That he would shortly visit her, when she 
 Led forth her flock to field more joyfully 
 Than she was wont to do ; those rosy stains 
 That nature wont to lend her from her veins, 
 Began t' appear upon her cheeks, and raise 
 Her sickly beauty to contend for praise, 
 She tricked herself in all her best attire, 
 As if she meant this day f invite Desire 
 To fall in love with her: her loose hair 
 Hung on her shoulders, sporting w 7 ith the air : 
 Her brow a coronet of rose-buds crown'd 
 With loving woodbines sweet embraces bound. 
 Two globe-like pearls were pendant to her ears. 
 And on her breast a costly gem she wears, 
 An adamant, in fashion like a heart, 
 Whereon Love sat a plucking out a dart, 
 With this same motto graven round about 
 On a gold border ; Sooner in than out. 
 This gem Clearchus gave her, when unknown, 
 At tilt his valour won her for his own. 
 
60 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Instead of bracelets on her wrists, she wore 
 
 A pair of golden shackles, chained before 
 
 Unto a silver ring enamel'd blue, 
 
 Whereon in golden letters to the view 
 
 This motto was presented : Bound yet free. 
 
 And in a true-love's knot a T. and C., 
 
 Buckled it fast together ; her silk gown 
 
 Of grassy green, in equal plaits hung down 
 
 Unto the earth : and as she went the flowers, 
 
 Which she had broider'd on it at spare hours, 
 
 Were wrought so to the life, they seem'd to grow 
 
 In a green field, and as the wind did blow, 
 
 Sometimes a lily, then a rose takes place; 
 
 And blushing seems to hide it in the grass: 
 
 And here and there gold oates 'mong pearls she strew, 
 
 That seem'd like shining glow-worms in the dew. 
 
 Her sleeves were tinsel, wrought with leaves of green, 
 
 In equal distance, spangeled between, 
 
 And shadowed over with a thin lawn cloud, 
 
 Through which her workmanship more graceful 
 
 show'd. 
 
 A silken scrip and shepherd's crook she had, 
 The badge of her profession ; and thus clad, 
 Thealma leads her milky drove to field, 
 Proud of so brave a guide : had you beheld 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 61 
 
 With what a majesty she trod the ground, 
 How sweet she smiPd, and angrily she frown'd : 
 You would have thought it had Minerva been, 
 Come from high Jove to dwell on earth again. 
 The reason why she made herself thus fine 
 Was a sweet dream she had ; some poor divine 
 Had whispered to her soul Clearchus liv'd, 
 And that he was a king for whom she griev'd : 
 She thought she saw old Hymen in Love's bands, 
 Tie with devotion both their hearts and hands. 
 She was a dreaming farther, when her maid 
 Told her the sun was up : she well appaid 
 With what her greedy thoughts had tasted on, 
 Quickly got up ; and hurried with her dream, 
 Thus tricks herself, having a mind to seem 
 What she would be, but was not ; strong conceit 
 So wrought upon her; those that are born great 
 Have higher thoughts than the low-minded clown, 
 He seldom dreams himself into a crown. 
 Caretta, modest girl, she thought it strange, 
 And wonder'd greatly at so sudden change ; 
 But durst not be so bold to ask the cause, 
 Obedience had prescrib'd her knowledge laws, 
 And she would not transgress them; yet it made 
 Her call to mind what garments once she had, 
 
62 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 And when her father hVd, how brave she went, 
 
 But humble-minded wench she was content. 
 
 She knew the vanity of pomp and pride, 
 
 Which if not pluck'd off, must be laid aside 
 
 One day; and to speak truth, she had a mind 
 
 So deck'd with rich endowments, that it shin'd 
 
 In all her actions ; howsoe'er she goes, 
 
 Few maids have such an inside to their clothes. 
 
 Yet her dame's love had trick'd her up so brave, 
 
 As she thought fit to make her maid, and gave 
 
 Her such habiliments to set her forth, 
 
 As rather grac'd than stain'd her mistress' worth. 
 
 They made her ne'er the prouder, she was still 
 
 As ready and obedient to her will. 
 
 Thus to the field Thealma and her maid 
 
 Cheerfully went ; and in a friendly shade 
 
 They sat them down to work ; the wench had brought, 
 
 As her dame bid, her lute ; and as she wrought, 
 
 Thealma play'd and sang this cheerful air, 
 
 As if she then would bid adieu to care. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 63 
 
 I. 
 
 Fly hence, Despair, and heart' s-benumbing fears, 
 
 Presume no more to fright 
 
 Me from my quiet rest : 
 My budding hopes have wip'd away my tears 
 
 And M'd me with delight, 
 
 To cure my wounded breast. 
 
 II. 
 
 Mount up, sad thoughts, that whilom humbly stray'd 
 
 Upon the lowly plain, 
 
 And fed on nought but grief. 
 My angry fate with me is well appaid, 
 
 And smiles on me again, 
 
 To give my heart relief. 
 
 III. 
 
 Rejoice, poor heart, forget these wounding woes 
 
 That robb'd thee of thy peace, 
 
 And drown'd thee in despair; 
 Still thy strong passions with a sweet repose 
 
 To give my soul some ease, 
 
 And rid me of my care. 
 
 My thoughts presage, by Fortune's frown, 
 I shall climb up unto a crown. 
 
64 THEALMA AND CLEARCHIS. 
 
 She had not ended her delicious lay, 
 When Cleon and old Rhotus, who that day 
 Were journeying to court, by chance drew near, 
 As she was singing, and t' enrich their ear 
 They made a stand behind the hedge, to hear 
 Her sweet soul-melting accents, that so won 
 Their best attention, that when she had done, 
 The voice had ravish'd so the good old men, 
 They wish'd in vain she would begin again; 
 And now they long to see what goddess 'twas 
 That ownM so sweet a voice, and with such grace 
 Chid her sad woes away. The cause that drew 
 Rhotus to court was this ; after a view 
 Made by the victor king of all his peers, 
 And well-deserving men, that force or fears 
 Had banish'd from their own, and Peace begun 
 To smile upon Arcadia; to shun 
 The future cavils that his subjects might 
 Make to recover their usurped right : 
 He made inquiry what each man possess'd 
 During Lysander's reign, to re-invest 
 Them in their honour'd places, and such lands 
 As tyranny had wrung out of their hands. 
 And minding now to gratify his friends, 
 Like a good prince, he for old Rhotus sends; 
 
THEALMA AND CLEAKCHUS. 65 
 
 As he to whom he ow'd his life, and all 
 
 The honour he had rose to; at his call 
 
 Old Rhotus quickly comes, leaving his trade 
 
 To an old servant whom long custom had 
 
 Wedded to that vocation ; so that he 
 
 Aim'd at no higher honour than to be 
 
 A master fisher. Cleon, who of late 
 
 As you have heard, came from the Lemnian state 
 
 In search of one whose name he yet kept close, 
 
 With Rhotus, his kind host, to court he goes, 
 
 And with him his son Dorus : in the way, 
 
 As you have heard, Thealma made them stay, 
 
 And not contented to content their ear 
 
 With her sweet music, tow'rd her they drew near; 
 
 And wond'ring at her bravery and her beauty, 
 
 They thought to greet her with a common duty 
 
 Would ill become them: humbly on their knee 
 
 They tendered their respect, and, prince-like, she 
 
 Thank'd them with nods: her high thoughts still 
 
 aspire, 
 
 And their low lootings lift them a step higher. 
 Old Cleon eyed her with such curious heed, 
 He thought she might be, what she provM indeed, 
 Thealma: her rich gems confirmed the same, 
 For some he knew, yet durst not ask her name. 
 
f)6 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Caretta viewing Rhotus (loving wench) 
 
 As if instinct had taught her confidence, 
 
 Runs from her mistress, contradicts all fears, 
 
 And asks him blessing, speaking in her tears. 
 
 ' Lives then Caretta V said he, * Yes/ quoth she, 
 
 * I am Caretta, if you'll father me/ 
 
 ' Then heaven hath heard my prayers, or thine rather, 
 
 It is thy goodness makes me still a father.' 
 
 A thousand times he kiss'd the girl, whilst she 
 
 Receives them as his blessings on her knee. 
 
 At length he took her up, and to her dame 
 
 With thanks return'd her: saying, i if a blame 
 
 Be due unto your handmaid's fond neglect 
 
 To do you service, let your frown reflect 
 
 On her poor father. She as children use, 
 
 Is overjoy'd to find the thing they lose/ 
 
 ' There needs no such apology, kind sir/ 
 
 Answer'd Thealma, ' duty bindeth her 
 
 More strictly to th* obedience of a father, 
 
 Than of a mistress; I commend her rather 
 
 For tend'ring what she owed so willingly; 
 
 Believ't I love her for it, she and I 
 
 Have drank sufficiently of Sorrow's cup, 
 
 And were content sometimes to dine and sup 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 67 
 
 With the sad story of our woes; poor cates 
 
 To feed on ; yet we bought them at dear rates : 
 
 Many a tear they cost us : you are blest 
 
 In finding of a daughter, and the best 
 
 (Though you may think I flatter) that e'er hVd 
 
 To glad a father ; as with her I griev'd 
 
 For his supposed loss, so being found 
 
 I cannot but rejoice with her; the wound 
 
 Which you have cur'd in her, gives ease to mine, 
 
 And I find comfort in her medicine. 
 
 I had a father, but I lost him too, 
 
 And wilfully; my girl, so didst not thou; 
 
 Nor can I hope to find him, but in wrath 
 
 I lost his love in keeping of my faith/ 
 
 She would have spoken more, but sighs and tears 
 
 Brake from their prison to revive her fears. 
 
 Cleon, although he knew her by her speech, 
 
 And by some jewels which she wore, too rich 
 
 For any shepherdess to wear, forbare 
 
 To interrupt her ; he so lov'd to hear 
 
 Her speak, whom he so oft had heard was drown'd, 
 
 And still, good man, he kneel'd upon the ground, 
 
 And wept for joy. ' Why do you kneel/ quoth she, 
 
 * Am I a saint, what do you see in me 
 
68 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 To merit such respects ? pray rise, 'tis I 
 That owe a reverence to such gravity, 
 That kneeling better would become, I know 
 No worth in me to worl you down so low.' 
 ' Yes, gracious madam, what I pay is due 
 To none, for ought I know, so much as you. 
 Is not your name Thealma? hath your eye 
 Ne'er seen this face at Lemnos, I can spy 
 Ev'n through the clouds of grief, the stamp of him 
 That once I call'd my sovereign ; age and time 
 Hath brought him to his grave, that bed of dust, 
 Where when our night is come, sleep we all must. 
 Yet in despight of Death his honour'd name 
 Lives, and will ever in the vote of Fame. 
 Death works but on corruption, things divine 
 Cleans'd from the dross about them, brighter shine : 
 So doth his virtues. What was earth is gone, 
 His heavenly part is left to crown his son, 
 If I could find him/ You may well conceive 
 At his sad tale what cause she had to grieve ; 
 Reply she could not, but in sighs and tears, 
 Yet to his killing language lent her ears : 
 And had not grief enforc'd him make a pause 
 She had been silent still ; she had most cause 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 69 
 
 To wail her father's loss. * Oh, unkind Fate,' 
 
 Replied Thealma; * it is now too late 
 
 To wish I'd not offended ; cruel Love 
 
 To force me to offend, and not to prove 
 
 So kind to let him live to punish her, 
 
 Whose fault, I fear me, was his murderer. 
 
 O, my Clearchus, 'twas through thee I fell 
 
 From a child's duty ; yet I do not well 
 
 To blame thee for it, sweetly may'st thou sleep, 
 
 Thou and thy faults lie buried in the deep, 
 
 And I'll not rake them up : ye partial powers, 
 
 To number out to me so many hours, 
 
 And punish him so soon; why do I live? 
 
 Can there be hope that spirits can forgive?' 
 
 ' Yes, gracious madam, his departing soul 
 
 Seal'd up your pardon with a prayer t' enroll 
 
 Amongst his honour'd acts, left you a blessing, 
 
 And call'd it love, which you do style transgressing, 
 
 Left you a dowry worthy a lov'd child, 
 
 With whom he willingly was reconciled. 
 
 Take comfort then ; kings are but men, and they 
 
 As well as poor men must return to clay.' 
 
 With that she op'd the flood-gates of her eyes, 
 
 And offer'd up a wealthy sacrifice 
 
70 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Of thankful tears, to expiate her crimes, 
 
 And drown their memory, lest after times 
 
 Might blab them to the world. Rhotus gave ear 
 
 To all that past, and lent her many a tear : 
 
 The alms that sweet compassion bestows 
 
 On a poor heart that wants to cure its woes. 
 
 Caretta melted too, though she had found 
 
 What her poor mistress griev'd at; all drank round 
 
 Of the same briny cup. Rhotus at last 
 
 'Gan thus to comfort her: * Madam, though haste 
 
 To obey my sovereign's commands would fit 
 
 The duty of a subject better ; yet 
 
 I will incur the hazard of his frown 
 
 To do you service ; glory and renown, 
 
 The mark the noble spirits still aim at 
 
 To crown their virtues, did so animate 
 
 Alexis our new sovereign, once my guest, 
 
 (And glad he was to be so) that his breast, 
 
 Full of high thoughts, could relish no content 
 
 In a poor cottage. One day as he went 
 
 With me unto our annual games, where he 
 
 Puts in for one to try the mastery, 
 
 And from them all came off a victor, so 
 
 That all admir'd him ; on him they bestow 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHTJS. 71 
 
 The wreath of conquest ; at that time this state 
 
 Was governed by a tyrant, one that Fate 
 
 Thrust in to scourge the people's wickedness, 
 
 That had abus'd the blessing of their peace, 
 
 As he abus'd his honour, which he gain'd 
 
 By cruel usurpation : for he reign'd 
 
 More like a beast than man ; Fortune at length 
 
 Grew weary of him too ; weak'ning his strength 
 
 By wantoning his people, without law 
 
 Or exercise to keep their minds in awe. 
 
 Which the exiPd nobility perceiving, 
 
 Took heart again, some new strong hope conceiving 
 
 Through th' enemies' neglect, to regain that 
 
 Which formerly they lost; so it pleas'd Fate 
 
 To change the scene : most of the noble youth 
 
 The former war consum'd, and to speak truth, 
 
 Unless some few old men, there was left none 
 
 Worthy to be a leader; all was gone. 
 
 Wherefore when they had seen what he could do, 
 
 And by that guess'd, what he durst undergo, 
 
 (If they were put to't) they Alexis chose 
 
 To lead their war-like troops against their foes. 
 
 His valour spake him noble, and 's behaviour 
 
 Was such as won upon the people's favour; 
 
72 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 His speech so powerful, that the hearer thought 
 
 All his entreats commands: so much it wrought 
 
 Upon their awful minds : this new-come stranger 
 
 They chose to be their shield 'twixt them and danger ; 
 
 And he deceived not th' expectation 
 
 They fix'd upon him : Hylas was overthrown, 
 
 And he returned in triumph. Joy was now 
 
 Arcadia's theme ; and all oblations vow 
 
 To their protector Mars : to quite him then, 
 
 They chose him king, the wonderment of men. 
 
 'Twas much, yet what they gave was not their own, 
 
 They ow'd him for it ; what they gave he won, 
 
 And won it bravely. When this youth I found 
 
 Hanging upon the craggy rock, half drownM, 
 
 I little dream'd that he should mount so high 
 
 As to a crown; yet such a majesty 
 
 Shin'd on his look sometimes, as showed a mind 
 
 Too great to be, to a low state confin'd : 
 
 'Though while he lived with me, such sullen clouds 
 
 Of grief hung on his brow, and such sad floods, 
 
 Rather than briny tears, stream'd from his eyes, 
 
 As made him seem a man of miseries. 
 
 And often as he was alone I heard him 
 
 Sigh out Thealma; I as often cheer'd him. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 73 
 
 May not this be the man you grieve for so? 
 Your name's Thealma, and for ought I know, 
 He may not be Alexis ; perhaps fear 
 Borrow'd that nick-name, to conceal him here. 
 Take comfort, madam, on my life 'tis he, 
 If my conjecture fail me not, then be 
 Not so dejected till the truth be tried/ 
 
 * And that shall be my charge/ Cleon replied ; 
 
 * Thanks, noble Rhotus, this discovery 
 Binds me to thee for ever: thou and I 
 Will to the court; could I Anaxus find 
 
 My work were ended ; if Fate prove so kind, 
 I hope a comical event shall crown 
 These tragical beginnings ; do not drown 
 Your hopes (sweet madam) that I so would fain 
 Live to your comfort, when we meet again, 
 Which will be speedily ; the news we bring, 
 I trust, shall be Clearchus is a king/ 
 
 * Most noble Cleon, thanks, may it prove so/ 
 Answer'd Thealma; ' yet before you go, 
 Take this same jewel, this Clearchus gave me, 
 When first I did consent that he should have me : 
 And if he still do love, as is a doubt, 
 
 For he ne'er hath a power to work love out. 
 
74 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 By this you shall discover who he is. 
 
 If Fortune have assigned me such a bliss 
 
 As once more to be his, she makes amends 
 
 For all my sorrow ; but if she intends 
 
 Still to afflict me, I can suffer still, 
 
 And tire her cruelty, though 't be to kill: 
 
 I have a patience that she cannot wrong 
 
 With all her flatteries ; a heart too strong 
 
 To shake at such a weak artillery, 
 
 As is her frowns : no, Cleon, I dare die, 
 
 And could I meet death nobly I would so, 
 
 Rather than be her scorn, and take up woe 
 
 At interest to enrich her power, that grows 
 
 Greater by grieving at our overthrows. 
 
 No, Cleon, I can be as well content 
 
 With my poor cot, this woolly regiment, 
 
 As with a palace ; or to govern men; 
 
 And I can queen it when time serves again. 
 
 Go, and my hopes go with you ; if stern Fate 
 
 Bid you return with news to mend my state, 
 
 I'll welcome it with thanks ; if not, I know 
 
 The worst on't, Cleon, I am now as low 
 
 As she can throw me/ Thus resolv'd they leave her, 
 
 And to the court the two lords wend together, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 75 
 
 Leaving young Dorus, Cleon's son, behind, 
 
 To wait upon Thealma ; Love was kind 
 
 In that to fair Caretta, that till now 
 
 Ne'er felt what passion meant, yet knew not how 
 
 To vent it but with blushes; modest shame 
 
 Forbade it yet to grow into a flame. 
 
 Love works by time, and time will make her bolder, 
 
 Talk warms desire, when absence makes it colder. 
 
 Home now Thealma wends 'twixt hope and fear, 
 
 Sometimes she smiles ; anon she drops a tear 
 
 That stole along her cheeks, and falling down 
 
 Into a pearl, it freezeth with her frown. 
 
 The sun was set before she reached the fold, 
 
 And sparkling Vesper Night's approach has told. 
 
 She left the lovers to enfold her sheep, 
 
 And in she went resolv'd to sup with sleep: 
 
 If thought would give her leave, unto her rest 
 
 We leave her for awhile. Sylvanus' guest 
 
 You know we lately left under his care, 
 
 And now it is high time, my Muse, to lure 
 
 From her too tedious weary flight, and tell 
 
 What to Anaxus that brave youth befell. 
 
 Let's pause awhile, she'll make the better flight, 
 
 The following lines shall feed your appetite. 
 
76 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Bright Cynthia twice her silver horns had cbangM, 
 And through the zodiac's twelve signs had rang'd 
 Before Anaxus' wounds were throughly well ; 
 In the mean while Sylvanus ? gan to tell 
 Him of his future fortune ; for he knew 
 From what sad cause his mind's distemper grew. 
 He had ylearn'd, as you have heard, while ere, 
 The art of wise soothsaying, and could clear 
 The doubts that puzzle the strong working brain, 
 And make the intricat'st enigmas plain: 
 His younger years in Egypt's schools he spent, 
 From whence he suck'd this knowledge; not content 
 With what the common sciences could teach, 
 Those were too shallow springs for his deep reach, 
 That aim'd at Learning's utmost: that hid skill 
 That out-doth nature, hence he suck'd his fill 
 Of divine knowledge : 'twas not all inspir'd, 
 It cost some pains that made him so admir'd ; 
 He told him what he was, what country air 
 He first drew in, what his iutendments were; 
 How 'twas for love, he left his native soil 
 To tread upon Arcadia, and with toil 
 Sought what he must not have, a lovely dame; 
 But art went not so far to tell her name. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 77 
 
 Heav'n, that doth control art, would not reveal it, 
 
 Or if it did, he wisely did conceal it. 
 
 He told him of his father's death, and that 
 
 The state had lately sent for him, whereat 
 
 Anaxus starting ; * Stay, old man/ quoth he, 
 
 * I'll hear no more ! thy cruel augury 
 
 Wounds me at heart, can thy art cure that wound 
 
 Sylvanus? No, no medicine is found 
 
 In human skill to cure that tender part, 
 
 When the soul's pain'd, it finds no help of Art. 
 
 ' Yet, sir/ said he, ' art may have power to ease, 
 
 Though not to cure, the sick soul's maladies: 
 
 And though my sadder news distaste your ear, 
 
 'Tis such as I must tell, and you must hear. 
 
 I know you're sent for, strict inquiry's made 
 
 Through all Arcadia for you ; plots are laid 
 
 (By some that wish not well unto the state) 
 
 How to deprive you of a crown; but Fate 
 
 Is pleas'd not so to have it, and by me 
 
 Chalks out a way for you to sovereignty. 
 
 I say again, she whom you love, though true, 
 
 And spotless constant, must not marry you. 
 
 One you call sister, to divide the strife, 
 
 Fate hath decreed, must be your queen and wife. 
 
78 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Hie to th' Arcadian court, what there you hear 
 Perhaps may trouble you; but do not fear, 
 All shall be well at length, the bless'd event 
 Shall crown your wishes with a sweet content. 
 Inquire no farther, I must tell no more, 
 Here Fate sets limits to my art : before 
 You have gone half a league, under a beech, 
 You'll find your man inquiring of a witch 
 What is become of you? the beldame's sly, 
 And will allure by her strange subtlety 
 The strongest faith to error; have a care 
 She tempt you not to fall in love with air. 
 She'll show you wonders ; you shall see and hear 
 That which shall rarely please both eye and ear. 
 But be not won to wantonness, but shun 
 All her enticements : credit not, my son, 
 That what you see is real ; Son, be wise, 
 And set a watch before thy ears and eyes. 
 She loves thee not, and will work all she can 
 To give thy crown unto another man. 
 But fear not, there's a power above her skill 
 Will have it otherwise, do what she will. 
 But Fate thinks fit to try thy constancy, 
 Then arm thyself against her sorcery. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 79 
 
 Take this same herb, and if thy strength begin 
 
 To fail at any time, and lean to sin, 
 
 Smell to't, and wipe thine eyes therewith, that shall 
 
 Quicken thy duller sight to dislike all, 
 
 And reinforce thy reason to oppose 
 
 All her temptations, and fantastic shows. 
 
 Farewell, Anaxus, hie to court, my son, 
 
 Or I'll be there before thee! Twas high noon, 
 
 When after many thanks to his kind host, 
 
 Anaxus took his leave, and quickly lost 
 
 The way he was directed ; on he went 
 
 As his Fate led him, full of hardiment. 
 
 Down in a gloomy valley, thick with shade, 
 
 Which two aspiring hanging rocks had made 
 
 That shut out day, and barr'd the glorious sun 
 
 From prying into th' actions there done ; 
 
 Set full of box, and cypress, poplar, yew, 
 
 And hateful elder that in thickets grew, 
 
 Amongst whose boughs the screech-owl and night- 
 
 Sadly recount their prophecies of woe, [crow 
 
 Where leather-winged bats, that hate the light, 
 
 Fan the thick air, more sooty than the night. 
 
 The ground o'er-grown with weeds, and bushy shrubs, 
 
 Where milky hedge-hogs nurse their prickly cubs : 
 
80 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 And here and there a mandrake grows, that strikes 
 The hearers dead with their loud fatal shrieks ; 
 Under whose spreading leaves the ugly toad, 
 The adder, and the snake make their abode. 
 Here dwelt Orandra, so the witch was hight, 
 And thither had she toal'd him by a sleight: 
 She knew Anaxus was to go to court, 
 And, envying virtue, she made it her sport 
 To hinder him, sending her airy spies 
 Forth with delusions to entrap his eyes, 
 And captivate his ear with various tones, 
 Sometimes of joy, and otherwhiles of moans: 
 Sometimes he hears delicious sweet lays 
 Wrought with such curious descant as would raise 
 Attention in a stone : anon a groan 
 Reacheth his ear, as if it came from one 
 That crav'd his help ; and by and by he spies 
 A beauteous virgin with such catching eyes 
 As would have fir'd a hermit's chill desires 
 Into a flame ; his greedy eye admires 
 The more than human beauty of her face, 
 And much ado he had to shun the grace, 
 Conceit had shaped her out so like his love, 
 That he was once about in vain to prove, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 81 
 
 Whether 'twas his Clarinda, yea or no, 
 
 But he bethought him of his herb, and so 
 
 The shadow vanished, many a weary step 
 
 It led the prince that pace with it still kept, 
 
 Until it brought him by a hellish power 
 
 Unto the entrance of Orandra's bower, 
 
 Where underneath an elder-tree he spied 
 
 His man Pandevius, pale and hollow-eyed ; , 
 
 Inquiring of the cunning witch what fate 
 
 Betid his master; they were newly sate 
 
 When his approach disturbed them; up she rose, 
 
 And tow'rd Anaxus (envious hag) she goes; 
 
 Pandevius she had charm'd into a maze, 
 
 And struck him mute, all he could do was gaze. 
 
 He calPd him by his name, but all in vain, 
 
 Echo returns Pandevius back again ; 
 
 Which made him wonder, when a sudden fear 
 
 Shook all his joints: she, cunning hag, drew near, 
 
 And smelling to his herb, he recollects 
 
 His wand'ring spirits, and with anger checks 
 
 His coward fears; resolv'd now to out-dare 
 
 The worst of dangers, whatsoe'er they were ; 
 
 He eyed her o'er and o'er, and still his eye 
 
 Found some addition to deformity. 
 
 E3 
 
82 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 An old decrepid hag she was, grown white 
 
 With frosty age, and withered with despight 
 
 And self-consuming hate ; in furs yclad, 
 
 And on her head a thrummy cap she had. 
 
 Her knotty locks, like to Alecto's snakes, 
 
 Hang down about her shoulders, which she shakes 
 
 Into disorder; on her furrowed brow 
 
 One might perceive Time had been long at plough. 
 
 Her eyes like candle-snuffs by age sunk quite 
 
 Into their sockets, yet like cat's-eyes, bright : 
 
 And in the darkest night like fire they shinM, 
 
 The ever open windows of her mind. 
 
 Her swarthy cheeks, Time, that all things consumes, 
 
 Had hollowed flat unto her toothless gums. 
 
 Her hairy brows did meet above her nose, 
 
 That like an eagle's beak so crooked grows, 
 
 It well nigh kiss'd her chin ; thick brist'led hair 
 
 Grew on her upper lip, and here and there 
 
 A rugged wart with grisly hairs behung ; 
 
 Her breasts shrunk up, her nails and fingers long, 
 
 Her left leant on a staff, in her right hand 
 
 She always carried her enchanting wand. 
 
 Splay-footed, beyond nature, every part 
 
 So patteruless deform'd, 'twould puzzle Art 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 83 
 
 To make her counterfeit ; only her tongue, 
 Nature had that most exquisitely strung. 
 Her oily language came so smoothly from her, 
 And her quaint action did so well become her, 
 Her winning rhetoric met with no trips, 
 But chained the dullest attention to her lips. 
 With greediness he heard, and though he strove 
 To shake her off, the more her words did move. 
 She woo'd him to her cell, call'd him her son, 
 And with fair promises she quickly won 
 Him to her beck ; or rather he to try 
 What she could do, did willingly comply 
 With her request ; into her cell he goes, 
 And with his herb he rubs his eyes and nose. 
 His man stood like an image still, and stared 
 As if some fearful prodigy had scared 
 Life from its earthy mansion ; but she soon 
 Unloosed the charms, and after them he run. 
 Her cell was hewn out of the marble rock, 
 By more than human Art; she need not knock, 
 The door stood always open, large and wide, 
 Grown o'er with woolly moss on either side, 
 And interwove with Ivy's flattering twines, 
 Through winch the carbuncle and diamond shines ; 
 
84 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Not set by Art, but there by Nature sown 
 
 At the World's birth, so star-like bright they shone. 
 
 They serv'd instead of tapers to give light 
 
 To the dark entry, where perpetual night, 
 
 Friend to black deeds, and sire of ignorance, 
 
 Shuts out all knowledge; lest her eye by chance 
 
 Might bring to light her follies : in they went, [scent 
 
 The ground was strew'd with flowers, whose sweet 
 
 Mix'd with the choice perfumes from India brought, 
 
 Intoxicates his brain, and quickly caught 
 
 His credulous sense ; the walls were gilt, and set 
 
 With precious stones, and all the roof was fret 
 
 With a gold vine, whose straggling branches spread 
 
 All o'er the arch ; the swelling grapes were red ; 
 
 This Art had made of rubies cluster'd so, 
 
 To the quickest eye they more than seem'd to grow ; 
 
 About the walls lascivious pictures hung, 
 
 Such as were of loose Ovid sometimes sung. 
 
 On either side a crew of dwarfish elves 
 
 Held waxen tapers, taller than themselves : 
 
 Yet so well shap'd unto their little stature, 
 
 So angel-like in face, so sweet in feature. 
 
 Their rich attire so diff 'ring ; yet so well 
 
 Becoming her that wore it, none could tell 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 85 
 
 Which was the fairest, which the handsomest deck'd, 
 
 Or which of them Desire would soonest affect. 
 
 After a low salute they all 'gan sing, 
 
 And circle in the stranger in a ring. 
 
 Orandra to her charms was stepp'd aside, 
 
 Leaving her guest half won and wanton-eyed. 
 
 He had forgot his herb : cunning delight 
 
 Had so bewitch'd his ears, and blear'd his sight, 
 
 And captivated all his senses so, 
 
 That he was not himself; nor did he know 
 
 What place he was in, or how he came there, 
 
 But greedily he feeds his eye and ear 
 
 With what would ruin him ; but that kind Fate, 
 
 That contradicts all power subordinate, 
 
 Prevented Art's intents ; a silly fly 
 
 (As there were many) light into his eye, 
 
 And forc'd a tear to drown herself, when he 
 
 Impatient that he could not so well see, 
 
 Lifts up his hand wherein the herb he held, 
 
 To wipe away the moisture that distill'd 
 
 From his still smarting eye ; he smelt the scent 
 
 Of the strong herb, and so incontinent 
 
 Recovered his stray wit : his eyes were clear'd, 
 
 And now he lik'd not what he saw or heard. 
 
86 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 This knew Orandra well ; and plots anew 
 How to entrap him : next unto his view 
 She represents a banquet, usher'd in 
 By such a shape, as she was sure would win 
 His appetite to taste; so like she was 
 To his Clarinda, both in shape and face. 
 So voic'd, so habited, of the same gait 
 And comely gesture ; on her brow in state 
 Sate such a princely majesty, as he 
 Had noted in Clarinda ; save that she 
 Had a more wanton eye, that here and there 
 Rolled up and down, not settling any where. 
 Down on the ground she falls his hand to kiss, 
 And with her tears bedews it; cold as ice 
 He felt her lips, that yet inflamed him so, 
 That he was all on fire the truth to know, 
 Whether she was the same she did appear, 
 Or whether some fantastic form it were, 
 Fashioned in his imagination 
 By his still working thoughts ; so fix'd upon 
 His lov'd Clarinda, that his fancy strove, 
 Even with her shadow, to express his love. 
 He took her up, and was about to 'quite 
 Her tears with kisses, when to clear his sight 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 87 
 
 He wipes his eyes, and with his herb of grace 
 
 Smooths his rough lip to kiss with greater grace. 
 
 So the herb's virtue stole into his brain, 
 
 And kept him off; hardly did he refrain 
 
 From sucking in destruction from her lip : 
 
 Sin's cup will poison at the smallest sip. 
 
 She weeps, and woo's again with subtleness, 
 
 And with a frown she chides his backwardness. 
 
 * Have you so soon (sweet prince, said she,) forgot 
 
 Your own belov'd Clarinda? are you not 
 
 The same you were, that you so slightly set 
 
 By her that once you made the cabinet 
 
 Of your choice counsel? hath my constant heart 
 
 (As Innocence unspotted) no desert, 
 
 To keep me your's? or hath some worthier love 
 
 Stole your affections? what is it should move 
 
 You to dislike so soon? must I still taste 
 
 No other dish but sorrow; when we last 
 
 Emptied our souls into each other's breast 
 
 It was not so, Anaxus, or at least 
 
 I thought you meant what then you promised me:' 
 
 With that she wept afresh. ' Are you then she ?' 
 
 Answered Anaxus, ' doth Clarinda live ?' 
 
 Just thus she spake, how fain would I believe ! 
 
88 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 With that she seem'd to fall into a swound, 
 
 And stooping down to raise her from the ground, 
 
 That he must use both hands to make more haste, 
 
 He puts his herb into his mouth, whose taste 
 
 Soon chang'd his mind: he lifts her, but in vain; 
 
 His hands fell off, and she fell down again. 
 
 With that she lent him such a frown as would 
 
 Have kilPd a common lover, and made cold 
 
 Ev'n lust itself: Orandra fumes and frets, 
 
 And stamping, bites the lip to see her nets 
 
 So long a catching souls: once more she looks 
 
 Into the secrets of her hellish books. 
 
 She bares her breast, and gives her spirits suck, 
 
 And drinks a cup in hope of better luck. 
 
 Anaxus still the airy shadow ey'd, 
 
 Which he thought dead, conceit the truth belied. 
 
 This cunning failing, out she drew a knife, 
 
 And as if she had meant to let out life, 
 
 In passion aim'd it at her breast, and said, 
 
 'Farewell, Anaxus ;' but her hand he staid, 
 
 And from her wrung her knife : ' Art thou/ said he, 
 
 * Clarinda then? 7 and kiss'd her: ' can it be 
 
 That fate so loves Anaxus?' Still with tears 
 
 She answer'd him, and more divine appears. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 89 
 
 His herb was now forgot, lust had stoPn in 
 With a loose kiss, and tempted him to sin. 
 A bed was near, and she seem'd sick and faint : 
 (Women to Cupid's sport need no constraint) 
 Down on the bed she threw herself, and turn'd 
 Her blushing beauty from him ; still he burn'd, 
 And with entreats her seeming coyness woo'd 
 To meet with his embraces, and bestow'd 
 Vollies of kisses on her icy cheek, 
 That wrangled with their fire : she would not speak, 
 But sigh'd and sobb'd, that bellows of desire 
 Into a flame had quickly blown his fire. 
 Now did Orandra laugh within her sleeve, 
 Thinking all was cock-sure, one might perceive 
 Ev'n in that wither'd hag, an amorous look, 
 Twas for herself she train'd them to her hook. 
 Softly she steals unto the bed, and peeps 
 Betwixt the curtains, nearer then she creeps, 
 And to her spirit whispers her command: 
 With that the spirit seem'd to kiss his hand, 
 Which stcw'd him into sweat ; a cloth she wants 
 To wipe his face, and his enflam'd heart pants 
 Beyond its usual temper for some air, 
 To cool the passions that lay boiling there. 
 
90 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Out of his bosom, where his nosegay was, 
 He draws a napkin, so it came to pass 
 In plucking of it out, the nosegay fell 
 Upon her face; when with a countenance fell, 
 She started from him, curs'd him, and with threats 
 Leaped from the bed, Orandra stamps and frets, 
 And bit her lip ; she knew the cause full well 
 Why her charms fail'd her, but yet could not tell 
 With all her art, how she might get from him 
 That sovereign herb : for touch it she durst not, 
 And at this time Anaxus had forgot 
 The virtue of it, as in a maze he lay 
 At her soon starting from him; 'Cast away/ 
 Said she, ' that stinking nosegay :' with that he 
 Bethinks of it; but it was well that she 
 Put him in mind on't ; it had else been lost, 
 He little knew how much that nosegay cost. 
 He seeks for't, finds it, smells to't, and by it 
 Turns out his lust, and reassumes his wit. 
 ' No, hag/ said he, 'if this do vex thee so, 
 I'll make thee glad to smell to't ere I go/ 
 With that he leaps unto her, cursing ripe, 
 And with his herb the witches face did wipe. 
 Whereat she fell to earth, the lights went out, 
 And darkness hung the chamber round about. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 91 
 
 A hellish yelling noise was each where heard, 
 
 Sounds that would make e'en Valour's self afear'd ; 
 
 A stifling scent of brimstone he might smell, 
 
 Such as the damned souls suck in in hell. 
 
 He kept his powerful herb still at his nose, 
 
 And toward the entry of the room he goes. 
 
 For though 'twas more than midnight dark, yet he 
 
 Found the way out again. Orandra she 
 
 Threw curses after him, and he might hear 
 
 Her often say, I'll fit you for this gear. 
 
 At the cave's mouth he found his careless man, 
 
 Wrapped in the witches' charms ; do what he can 
 
 He could not wake him, such sweet lullabies 
 
 Pleasure sang to him, till he rubb'd his eyes 
 
 With this rare herb; then starting up he leaps 
 
 For joy to see his master, that accepts [haste, 
 
 His love with thanks; from thence they make no 
 
 Yet where they were they knew not ; at the last 
 
 They came into a plain, where a small brook 
 
 Did snake-like creep with many a winding nook, 
 
 And by it here and there a shepherd's cot 
 
 Was lowly built, to one of them they got 
 
 T' inquire the way to court : now night drew on, 
 
 It was a good old man they lighted on, 
 
92 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Hight Eubolus, of no mean parentage, 
 
 But courtly educated, wise and sage, 
 
 Able to teach, yet willing to enrich 
 
 His knowledge with discourses, smooth in speech, 
 
 Yet not of many words; he entertains 
 
 Them with desire, nor spares for any pains 
 
 To amplify a welcome : with their host 
 
 Awhile we leave them,-^- 
 
 Now my Muse must post 
 Unto Alexis' court ; lend me, I pray, 
 Your gentle aid to guide her on the way. 
 
 Alexis, after many civil broils 
 Against his rebel subjects, rich in spoils, 
 Being settled in his throne in restful peace, 
 The laws establish'd (and his people's ease 
 Proclaim'd) he 'gan to call into his mind 
 The fore-past times, and soon his thoughts did find 
 Matter to work on : First, Thealma now 
 Came to his remembrance, where, and when, and how 
 He won and lost her, this sad thought did so 
 Afflict his mind, that he was soon brought low 
 Into so deep a melancholy, that 
 He minded nothing else : nor car'd he what 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 93 
 
 Became of state affairs, and though a king, 
 With pleasure he enjoy'd not any thing. 
 His sleep goes from him, meats and drinks he loathes, 
 And to his sadder thoughts he suits his clothes. 
 Mirth seem'd a disease, good counsel, folly, 
 Unless it serv'd to humour melancholy. 
 All his delight, if one may call't delight, 
 Was to find turtles, that both day and night 
 Mourn'd up and down his chamber, and with groans 
 His heart consented to their hollow moans ; 
 Then with his tears, the briny drink they drank, 
 He would bedew them : while his love to thank, 
 They nestle in his bosom, where, poor birds, 
 With piteous mournful tones, instead of words, 
 They seem'd to moan their master : thus did he 
 Spend his sad hours ; and what the cause might be 
 His nobles could not guess, nor would he tell j 
 For turtle-like he lov'd his griefs too well 
 To let them leave his breast; he kept them in, 
 And inwardly they spake to none but him. 
 Thus was it with him more than half a year, 
 Till a new business had set ope his ear 
 To entertain advice : the first that brake 
 The matter to him, or that durst to speak 
 
94 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Unto the king, was bold Anaxocles, 
 
 One that bent all his study for the peace 
 
 And safety of his country ; the right hand 
 
 Of the Arcadian state, to whose command 
 
 Was given the city's citadel : a place 
 
 Of chiefest trust, and this the business was. 
 
 The rebels, as you heard, being driven hence, 
 
 Despairing e'er to expiate their offence 
 
 By a too late submission, fled to sea 
 
 In such poor barks as they could get, where they 
 
 Roam' d up and down which way the winds did please, 
 
 Without or chart, or compass : the rough seas 
 
 Enrag'd with such a load of wickedness, 
 
 Grew big with billows, great was their distress ; 
 
 Yet was their courage greater; desperate men 
 
 Grow valianter with suffering : in their ken 
 
 Was a small island ; thitherward they steer 
 
 Their weather-beaten barks, each plies his geer; 
 
 Some row, some pump, some trim the ragged sails, 
 
 All were employed, and industry prevails. 
 
 They reach the land at length, their food grew scant, 
 
 And now they purvey to supply their want. 
 
 The island was but small, yet full of fruits, 
 
 That sprang by nature, as potatoe roots, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 1)5 
 
 Rice, figs, and almonds, with a many more : 
 Till now unpeopled ; on this happy shore 
 With joy they bring their barks, of which the best 
 They rig anew, with tackling from the rest. 
 Some six or seven they serviceable made, 
 They stand not long to study where to trade ; 
 Revenge prompts that unto them ; piracy 
 Was the first thing they thought on, and their eye 
 Was chiefly on the Arcadian shore, that lay 
 But three leagues off: their theft is not by day 
 So much as night, unless some straggling ship 
 Lights in their trap by chance: closely they keep 
 Themselves in rocky creeks, till sun be down 
 And all abed, then steal they to some town 
 Or scatt'ring village; which they fire, and take 
 What spoils they find, then to their ship they make, 
 And none knew who did harm them ; many a night 
 Had they us'd this free-booting : many a fright 
 And great heart's-grieving loss the unarm'd poor 
 Were nightly put to ; and to cure the sore 
 The old man rous'd the king Alexis, chid 
 His needless sorrow: told him that he did 
 Not like a man, much less like one whose health 
 Strengthens the sinews of a commonwealth. 
 
1)8 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 He might be met with, one kept near the shore, 
 Two kept at sea, the other squadron bore 
 Up toward the isle, yet with a wheeling course, 
 Not so far distant, but the whole fleet's force 
 Might quickly be united if need were. 
 Between these come the pirates without fear, 
 Making tow'rds th' Arcadian shore, where soon 
 Th' Arcadians met them ; now the fight begun, 
 And it was hot, the foe was three to one : 
 And some big ships, Anaxocles alone 
 Gave the first onset, Cynthia then shone bright, - 
 And now the foe perceives with whom they fight, 
 And they fought stoutly, scorning that so few 
 Should hold them tack so long: then nearer drew 
 The two side squadrons, and were within shot 
 Before they spied them : now the fight grew hot : 
 Despair put valour to the angry foe, 
 And bravely they stand to't, give many a blow. 
 Three ships of theirs were sunk at last, and then 
 They seek to fly unto their isle again ; 
 When the fourth squadron met them, and afresh 
 Set on them, half overcome with weariness ; 
 Yet yield they would not, but still fought it out ; 
 By this the other ships were come about, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 4)1) 
 
 And hemmM them in ; where, seeing no hope left, 
 Whom what the sword did not execute for theft, 
 Leap'd in the sea and drown'd them ; that small force 
 They'd left within the isle fared rather worse 
 Than better; all were put to the sword, 
 And their nest fir'd ; much booty brought aboard, 
 With store of corn, and much 'munition 
 For war; thus glad of what was done 
 The fleet with joy returns, the like success 
 Alexis had by land, at unawares 
 Surprising their chief fort: some lucky stars 
 Lending their helpful influence that night, 
 Yet for the time it was a bloody fight. 
 At length the fainting foe gave back, and fled 
 Out of a postern-gate with fear half dead, 
 And thinking in the port to meet their fleet, 
 They meet with death ; an ambush did them greet 
 With such a furious shock, that all were slain, 
 Only some straggling cowards did remain, 
 That hid themselves in bushes, which next day 
 The soldiers found, and made their lives a prey 
 Unto their killing anger. Home the king 
 Returns in triumph, whilst Pan's priests do sing 
 
 i 2 
 
100 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Harmonious odes in honour of that day, 
 And dainty nymphs with flowers strew'd the way. 
 Among the which he spied a beauteous maid, 
 Of a majestic count'nance, and array'd 
 After so new a manner, that his eye 
 Imp'd with delight upon her, and to try 
 Whether her mind did answer to her face, 
 He call'd her to him, when with modest grace 
 She fearless came, and humbly on her knee 
 Wish'd a long life unto his majesty. 
 He ask'd her name; she answer'd, Florimel ; 
 And blushing, made her beauty to excel, 
 That all the thoughts of his Thealma now 
 Were hush'd and smothered; upon her brow 
 Sate such an awful majesty, that he 
 Was conquer'd ere oppos'd ; 'twas strange to see 
 How strangely he was alter'd : still she kneels, 
 And still his heart burns with the fire it feels. 
 At last the victor, prisoner caught with love, 
 Lights from his chariot, and begins to prove 
 The sweetness of the bait that took his heart, 
 And with a kiss uprears her: yet Love's dart 
 Fir'd not her breast to welcome his affection, 
 Only hot sunny beams with their reflection 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 101 
 
 A little warm'd her; then he questions who 
 
 Her parents were, and why apparell'd so. 
 
 Where was her dwelling, in what country born? 
 
 And would have kiss'd her, when 'twixt fear and scorn 
 
 She put him from her; * My dread lord/ said she, 
 
 ' My birth is not ignoble, nor was he 
 
 That I call father, though in some disgrace 
 
 Worthy his unjust exile : what he was, 
 
 And where I first breath'd air, pardon dread king, 
 
 I dare not, must not tell you: none shall wring 
 
 That secret from me,: what I am, you see, 
 
 Or by my habit you may guess to be 
 
 Diana's votaress: the cause, great sir, 
 
 That prompts me to this boldness to appear 
 
 Before your majesty, was what I owe, 
 
 And ever shall unto your valour, know, 
 
 (For you may have forgot it) I am she 
 
 Who with my good old father you set free, 
 
 Some two years since, from bloody-minded men 
 
 That would have kill'd my honour; had not then 
 
 Your timely aid stepp'd in to rescue me, 
 
 And snatch'd my bleeding father, dear to me 
 
 As was mine honour, even from the jaw of death, 
 
 And given us both a longer stock of breath. 
 
102 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 'Twas this, great king, that drew me with this train, 
 
 From our devotion to review again 
 
 My honour's best preserver, and to pay 
 
 The debt of thanks I owe you : many a day 
 
 I've wished for such a time, and heav'n at last 
 
 Hath made me happy in it.' Day was now 
 
 Well nigh spent, and cattle 'gan to low 
 
 Homewards t' unlade their milky bags, when she 
 
 Her speech had ended ; every one might see 
 
 Love sit in triumph on Alexis' brow, 
 
 Firing the captive conqueror, and now 
 
 He 'gins to court her, and Love tippM his tongue 
 
 With winning rhetoric ; her hand he wrung, 
 
 And would again have kiss'd her ; but the maid 
 
 With a coy blush, 'twixt angry and afraid, 
 
 Flung from the king, and with her virgin train, 
 
 Fled swift as roes unto their bower again. 
 
 Alexis would have followed, but he knew 
 
 What eyes were on him, and himself withdrew 
 
 Into his chariot, and to courtward went 
 
 With all his nobles, hiding his intent 
 
 Under the veil of pleasant light discourse, 
 
 Which some mark'd well enough ; that night perforce 
 
 They all were glad within the open plain 
 
 To pitch their tents, where many a shepherd swain 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 103 
 
 Upon their pipes troll'd out their evening- lays 
 
 In various accents, emulous of praise. 
 
 It was a dainty pleasure for to hear 
 
 How the sweet nightingales their throats did tear, 
 
 Envying their skill, or taken with delight, 
 
 As I think rather, that the still-born night 
 
 Afforded such co-partners of their woes. 
 
 And at a close from the pure streams that flows 
 
 Out of the rocky caverns, not far off, 
 
 Echo replied aloud, and seem'd to scoff 
 
 At their sweet-sounding airs : this did so take 
 
 Love-sick, Alexis willingly awake, 
 
 That he did wish 't had been a week to-day 
 
 T' have heard them still ; but Time for none will stay. 
 
 The wearied shepherds at their usual hour 
 
 Put up their pipes, and in their straw-thatch'd bower 
 
 Slept out the rest of night, the king likewise 
 
 Tir'd with a weary march shut in his eyes 
 
 Within their leaden fold, all hush'd and still ; 
 
 Thus for awhile we leave him, till my quill, 
 
 Weary and blunted with so long a story, 
 
 Rest to be sharpened, and then she is for ye. 
 
 No sooner welcome day, with glimmering light 
 Began to chase away the shades of night, 
 
104 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 But Echo wakens, rouz'd by the shepherd swains, 
 And back reverberates their louder strains. 
 The airy choir had tun'd their slender throats, 
 And fill'd the bushy groves with their sweet notes; 
 The flocks were soon unfolded, and the lambs 
 Kneel for a breakfast to their milky dams. 
 And now Aurora blushing greets the world. 
 And o'er her face a curled mantle hurl'd, 
 Foretelling a fair day ; the soldiers now 
 Began to bustle ; some their trumpets blow, 
 Some beat their drums, that all the camp throughout 
 With sounds of war they drill the soldiers out. 
 The nobles soon were hors'd, expecting still 
 Their king's approach, but he had slept but ill, 
 And was but then arising, heavy-ey'd, 
 And cloudy-look'd, and something ill beside. 
 But he did cunningly dissemble it 
 Before his nobles, all that they could get 
 From him was, that a dream he had that night 
 Did much disturb him ; yet seem'd he make slight 
 Of what so troubled him ; but up, he cheers 
 His soldiers with his presence, and appears 
 As hearty as his troubled thoughts gave leave, 
 So that, except his groans, none could perceive 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 105 
 
 Much alteration in him : toward court 
 
 The army marches, and swift-wing'd report 
 
 Had soon divulg'd their coming ; by the way 
 
 He meets old Memnon, who, as you heard say, 
 
 Was sire to Florimel, good man, he then 
 
 Was going to his daughter : when his men, 
 
 Then in the army, in his passing by 
 
 Tendered their duty to him lovingly. 
 
 He bids them welcome home ; the king drew near, 
 
 And questioned who that poor man was, and where 
 
 His dwelling was; and why those soldiers show'd 
 
 Such reverence to him ; 'twas but what they ow'd, 
 
 Answer'd a stander-by ; * he is their lord, 
 
 And one that merits more than they afford ; 
 
 If worth were rightly valued, gracious sir. 
 
 His name is Memnon, if one may believe 
 
 His own report; yet sure, as I conceive 
 
 He's more than what he seems :' the army then 
 
 Had made a stand, when Memnon and his men 
 
 Were call'd before the king : the good old man 
 
 With tears, that joy brought forth, this wise began : 
 
 * To welcome home Alexis, ever be 
 
 Those sacred powers bless'd, that lets me see 
 
 F3 
 
106 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 My sovereign's safe return: still may that power 
 
 Strengthen your arm to conquer : heav'n still shower 
 
 Its choicest blessings on my sovereign, 
 
 My life's preserver : welcome home again. 
 
 I would my girl were here/ with that he wept, 
 
 When from his chariot Alexis stepp'd, 
 
 And lovingly embrac'd him : he knew well 
 
 That this was Memnon, sire to Florimel ; 
 
 And to mind how he had set them free 
 
 From more than cruel rebels ; glad was he 
 
 So luckily to meet him, from his wrist 
 
 He took a jewel, 'twas an Amethyst, 
 
 Made like a heart with wings : the motto this, 
 
 Love gives me wings: and with *** a kiss 
 
 He gave it to old Memnon : ' Bear/ said he, 
 
 * This jewel to your child, and let me see 
 
 Both you and her at court, fail not with speed 
 
 To let me see you there : old man, I need 
 
 Thy grave advice / all wonder'd at the deed, 
 
 But chiefly Memnon. ' Father/ said the king, 
 
 ' I'll think upon your men : fail not to bring 
 
 Your daughter with you.' So his leave he takes, 
 
 And ravished Memnon toward his daughter makes. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 107 
 
 The army could not reach the court that night, 
 But lay in open field, yet within sight 
 Of Pallimando, where the court then lay. 
 For greater state, Alexis the next day 
 Purpos'd to enter it; the townsmen they 
 In the meantime prepare what cost they may, 
 With shows and presents to bid welcome home 
 Their victor king ; and amongst them were some 
 Studied orations, and compos'd new lays 
 In honour of their king: the oak and bays 
 Were woven into garlands for to crown 
 Such as by valour had gain'd most renown. 
 Scarce could the joyful people sleep that night, 
 In expectation of the morrow's sight. 
 The morrow came, and in triumphant wise 
 The king and soldiers enter : all men's eyes 
 Were fix'd upon the king with such desire, 
 As if they'd seen a god, while Music's choir 
 Fill'd every corner with resounding lays, 
 That spake the conquering Alexis' praise ; 
 Drown'd in the vulgar's loud acclamations ; 
 'Twould ask an age to tell what preparations 
 Were made to entertain him, and my Muse 
 Grows somewhat weary : these triumphant shows 
 
106 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 My sovereign's safe return : still may that power 
 
 Strengthen your arm to conquer: heav'n still shower 
 
 Its choicest blessings on my sovereign, 
 
 My life's preserver: welcome home again. 
 
 I would my girl were here,' with that he wept, 
 
 When from his chariot Alexis stepp'd, 
 
 And lovingly embrac'd him : he knew well 
 
 That this was Memnon, sire to Florimel; 
 
 And to mind how he had set them free 
 
 From more than cruel rebels ; glad was he 
 
 So luckily to meet him, from his wrist 
 
 He took a jewel, 'twas an Amethyst, 
 
 Made like a heart with wings : the motto this, 
 
 Love gives me wings: and with *** a kiss 
 
 He gave it to old Memnon : t Bear/ said he, 
 
 ' This jewel to your child, and let me see 
 
 Both you and her at court, fail not with speed 
 
 To let me see you there : old man, I need 
 
 Thy grave advice / all wonder'd at the deed, 
 
 But chiefly Memnon. ' Father/ said the king, 
 
 6 I'll think upon your men : fail not to bring 
 
 Your daughter with you.' So his leave he takes, 
 
 And ravish/d Memnon toward his daughter makes. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 107 
 
 The army could not reach the court that night, 
 But lay in open field, yet within sight 
 Of Pallimando, where the court then lay. 
 For greater state, Alexis the next day 
 Purpos'd to enter it; the townsmen they 
 In the meantime prepare what cost they may, 
 With shows and presents to bid welcome home 
 Their victor king ; and amongst them were some 
 Studied orations, and composed new lays 
 In honour of their king: the oak and bays 
 Were woven into garlands for to crown 
 Such as by valour had gain'd most renown. 
 Scarce could the joyful people sleep that night, 
 In expectation of the morrow's sight. 
 The morrow came, and in triumphant wise 
 The king and soldiers enter : all men's eyes 
 Were fix'd upon the king with such desire, 
 As if they'd seen a god, while Music's choir 
 Fiird every corner with resounding lays, 
 That spake the conquering Alexis 7 praise ; 
 Drown'd in the vulgar's loud acclamations ; 
 'Twould ask an age to tell what preparations 
 Were made to entertain him, and my Muse 
 Grows somewhat weary : these triumphant shows 
 
108 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Continued long, yet seemed to end too soon, 
 The people wish'd 't had been a week to noon. 
 By noon the king was housed, and order given 
 To pay the soldiers; now it grew tow'rd even, 
 And all repair to rest, so I to mine, 
 And leave them buried in sound sleep and wine. 
 I'll tell you more hereafter, friendship's laws 
 Will not deny a friendly rest and pause. 
 
 You heard some few leaves past Alexis had 
 A dream that troubled him, and made him sad ; 
 Now being come home it 'gan revive afresh 
 Within his memory, and much oppress 
 The pensive king: Sylvanus, who you heard 
 Was good at divinations, had steer'd 
 His course, as Fate would have him, then to court, 
 BelovM and reverenced of the nobler sort, 
 And sainted by the vulgar : that that brought 
 The old man thither, was, for that he thought 
 To meet Anaxus there ; but he you heard 
 Was otherwise employ'd : the nobles cheer'd 
 Their love-sick king with the welcome report 
 Of old Sylvanus coming to the court ; 
 For he had heard great talk of him before, 
 And now thought long to see him, and the more 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 109 
 
 Because he hop'd to learn from his tried art, 
 
 What his dream meant, that so disturbed his heart. 
 
 Sylvanus soon was sent for, and soon came, 
 
 At his first greeting he began to blame 
 
 Th r amorous king for giving way to grief 
 
 Upon so slight occasion, but relief 
 
 Was rather needful now than admonition, 
 
 That came too late, his mind lack'd a physician, 
 
 And healing comforts were to be applied 
 
 Unto his wounds before they mortified. 
 
 Sylvanus therefore wished him to disclose 
 
 The troublous dream he had, and to repose 
 
 His trust in that strong pow'r that only could 
 
 Discover hidden secrets, and unfold 
 
 The riddle of a dream, and that his skill 
 
 Was but inspired by that great power, whose will 
 
 By weakest means is oftentimes made known. 
 
 4 Methought/ Alexis said, ' 1 was alone 
 
 By the sea-side, noting the prouder waves, 
 
 How mountain-like they swell, and with loud braves 
 
 Threaten the bounden shore ; when from the main 
 
 I see a turtle rise, the wings and train 
 
 Well nigh deplum'd, and making piteous moan, 
 
 And by a mark I guess'd it was mine own; 
 
110 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 And flying toward me, suddenly a kite 
 
 Swoopt at the bird, and in her feeble flight 
 
 Soon seiz'd upon her, crying, as I thought 
 
 To me for help : no sooner was she caught, 
 
 Whenas an eagle seeking after prey, 
 
 Flew tow'rd the main land from the isles this way, 
 
 And spying of the kite, the kingly fowl, 
 
 Seiz'd on her straight; the turtle, pretty soul, 
 
 Was by this means set free, and faintly gate 
 
 Upon the eagle's back, ordain'd by Fate 
 
 To be preserv'd : full glad was I to see 
 
 Her so escape ; but the eagle suddenly 
 
 Soaring aloft to sea-ward, took her flight, 
 
 And in a moment both were out of sight, 
 
 And left me betwixt joy and sorrow; sad 
 
 For the bird's flight, yet for her freedom glad. 
 
 Then, to my thinking, I espied a swain 
 
 Running affrighted tow'rd me o'er the plain. 
 
 Upon his wrist methought a turtle sate, 
 
 Not much unlike the other mourning for ? s mate: 
 
 Only this difference was; upon her head 
 
 She had a tuft of feathers blue and red, 
 
 In fashion of a crown ; it did me good 
 
 To see how proudly the poor turtle stood 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. Ill 
 
 Pruning herself, as if she scornM her thrall ; 
 
 If harmless doves can scorn that have no gall. 
 
 I was so much in love with the poor bird, 
 
 I wish'd it mine, methought the swain I heard 
 
 Cry out for help to me : with that I spied 
 
 A lion running after him glare-eyed, 
 
 And full of rage ; fear made the swain let go 
 
 The lovely turtle to escape his foe : 
 
 The bird no sooner loose made to the beast, 
 
 And in his curled locks plats out a nest. 
 
 The beast not minding any other prey, 
 
 Save what he had, ran bellowing away, 
 
 As overjoyed ; and as methought, I strove 
 
 To follow him, I wak'd, and all did prove 
 
 But a deluding dream ; yet such a one 
 
 As nightly troubles me to think upon. 
 
 The powers above direct thee to unfold 
 
 The myst'ry of it.' 'Twas no sooner told, 
 
 When old Sylvanus, with a cheerful smile, 
 
 Answer'd the king in a familiar stile. 
 
 * You are in love, dread sovereign, and with two, 
 
 One will not serve your turn, look what you do, 
 
 You will go near to lose them both ; but Fate 
 
 At length will give you one to be your mate, 
 
112 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 She that loves you, you must not love as wife, 
 
 And she that loves another as her life 
 
 Shall be th* Arcadian queen ; take comfort then 
 
 The two lost turtles you will find again. 
 
 Thus much my art doth tell me, more than this 
 
 I dare not let you know: my counsel is, 
 
 You would with patience note the working fates, 
 
 That joy proves best that's bought at dearest rates/ 
 
 He would not name Anaxus, though he knew 
 
 He should make one in what was to ensue; 
 
 And would not hasten sorrow sooner on him, 
 
 Than he himself would after pull upon him. 
 
 The king was somewhat satisfied with what 
 
 Sylvanus told him; and subscrib'd to fate. 
 
 He puts on cheerful looks, and to his lords 
 
 No little comfort by his health affords. 
 
 He sits in council, and recalls those peers 
 
 That liv'd concealed in exile many years. [others ; 
 
 'Mongst whom was Rhotus, Memilon, and some 
 
 And though with cunning his desire he smothers, 
 
 Yet did he not forget fair Florimel, 
 
 Of whom my straggling Muse is now to tell. 
 
 Memnon you heard was going to his child, 
 When the king left him with a heart o'er-fill'd 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 113 
 
 With joy and hopes : some marks he had espied 
 
 About Alexis, which so fortified 
 
 His strong conjecture, that he was the man 
 
 He ever took him for, that he began 
 
 With youthful cheerfulness to chide his age, 
 
 That stole so soon upon him with presage, 
 
 Sweet'ning his saucy sorrows that had sour'd 
 
 Life's blessing to him ; many tears he shower'd 
 
 With thought of what had pass'd, and though not sure 
 
 Alexis was his son, those thoughts did cure, 
 
 Or at the least-wise eas'd his troubled mind. 
 
 The good old man no sooner saw his child, 
 
 And bless'd her for her duty, when he smiPd 
 
 At what he was to say, and glad she was 
 
 To see her sire so cheerful ; to let pass 
 
 The long discourse between them : 'twas his will 
 
 She should prepare for court, chiding her still 
 
 For mentioning Anaxus; nor did he 
 
 Give her long time to think on what might be 
 
 The cause that mov'd her father to such haste. 
 
 But by the way he had given her a taste 
 
 Of what might follow : three days were assigned 
 
 Her for to get things ready ; 'twas his mind 
 
 It should be so, and duty must obey : 
 
 When father's bid, 'tis sin to say them nay. 
 
114 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Well then he meant to send for her, till when 
 He leaves her to her thoughts, and home again 
 The joyful old man wends: that very night, 
 Before the day prefixed, the fates to spight 
 Secure Alexis, sent Anaxus thither, 
 And brought his long-sought love and him together. 
 
 You know we left him with old Eubolus, 
 A wisely discreet man, and studious, 
 In liberal arts well seen, and state affairs, 
 Yet hVd retir'd to shun the weight of cares, 
 That greatness fondly sues for: all that night 
 Was spent in good discourse too long to write, 
 He told the prince the story of the war, 
 And pour tray 'd out Alexis' character 
 So to the life, that he was fir'd to see 
 The man he spake of, and disguised he 
 Intended in his thoughts next day to prove 
 The truth of what he heard: but cruel Jove 
 That loves to tyrannize for pleasure, stayed 
 His purposed journey, and unawares betray'd 
 Anaxus to an ambush of sad woes, 
 That set on him when he least dream'd of foes. 
 Amongst the various discourse that pass'd 
 Between these two, if fortuned at last 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 115 
 
 Eubolus fell in talk of Florimel, 
 
 And of her father Memnon, who full well 
 
 He knew to be a Lemnian ; howsoever 
 
 He gave it out for otherwise, for fear 
 
 Of double-ey'd suspicion. To the prince 
 
 He set his virtues forth, and how long since 
 
 He left his native soil j the prince conceiv'd 
 
 Good hope of what he aim'd at, and believ'd, 
 
 By all conjectures, that this Memnon might 
 
 Be banish'd Codrus, whom he meant to right, 
 
 If ever he was king. Eubolus went on 
 
 In praises of him and of Florimel. 
 
 1 Friend/ quoth the prince Anaxus, ' canst thou tell 
 
 Where this fair virgin is?' ' Yes/ he replied, 
 
 * I can and will, His by yon river side, 
 
 Where yonder tuft of trees stands/ day then brake, 
 And he might well discern it; * for love's sake/ 
 Answered Anaxus, i may one see this maid, 
 That merits all these praises!' ' Yes/ he said, 
 
 * But through a grate, no man must enter in 
 Within the cloister, that they hold a sin. 
 Yet she hath liberty some time to go 
 
 To see her father, none but she hath so, 
 Whatever the matter is ; unless when all, 
 Arm'd with their bows, go to some festival 
 
116 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Upon a noted holiday, and then 
 
 This female army, out and home again, 
 
 In comely order marcheth. Th' other day 
 
 It was my luck to see her, when this way 
 
 The king came from the wars, she with her train 
 
 (For she seem'd captain) met him on this plain. 
 
 Her coming hither, as I heard her say, 
 
 Was for her life's preserving to repay 
 
 A debt of thanks she ow'd him : many words 
 
 Did pass between them, and before the lords 
 
 Most graciously he kiss'd her, and did woo 
 
 Her for a longer stay ; but she in scorn, 
 
 Or finding him too am'rous, blew her horn, 
 
 To call her troops together ; all like roes 
 
 Ran swiftly tow'rd their cloister: she is fair, 
 
 And you know beauty is a tempting snare. 
 
 Hers is no common one, her very eye 
 
 That sparkled with a kind of majesty, 
 
 Might, without wonder, captivate a king :' 
 
 But this is too too high a strain to sing. 
 
 It was enough that Eubolus had said, 
 
 If not too much, to him that throughly weigh'd 
 
 Each circumstance, a kind of jealous fire 
 
 Stole to his heart, and spurr'd on his desiro 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 117 
 
 To see and prove her ; taking pen and ink, 
 
 He writ his mind, foreseeing (as I think) 
 
 She might not come alone unto the grate, 
 
 And so could not so privately relate 
 
 (If she should prove Clarinda) his intent. 
 
 So for an hour in vain to sleep he went, 
 
 But restless thoughts did keep him still awake, 
 
 Still musing on the words the old man spake. 
 
 Well, sun being up, with thanks he takes his leave 
 
 Of his kind host, that did not once perceive 
 
 Him to he troubled: with such cunning he 
 
 Dissembled what had mov'd him, jealousy. 
 
 His man and he toward the cloister go, 
 Casting in's mind what he were best to do 
 To win a sight of her: his nimble brain 
 Soon hatch'd a polity, that prov'd not vain. 
 The cloister outward gate was newly ope, 
 When he came there; and now 'twixt fear and hope 
 He boldly enters the base court, and knocks 
 At th' inner gate fast shut with divers locks: 
 At length one came, the port'ress, as I guess, 
 For she had many keys, her stranger dress 
 Much took Anaxus, who ne'er saw till then 
 Women attir'd so prettily like men. 
 
118 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 In courteous wise she ask'd him what he would ? 
 
 ' Fair dame,' said he, ' I have been often told 
 
 By one (I make no question) whom you know, 
 
 Old Memnon, (to whose tender care I owe 
 
 For my good breeding) that within this place 
 
 I have a kinswoman, that lately was 
 
 Admitted for a holy sister here, 
 
 My uncle Memnon's daughter : once a year, 
 
 As duty binds me, I do visit him, 
 
 And in my journey homeward at this time 
 
 A kinsman's love prompted me to bestow 
 
 A visit on my cousin ; whom I know 
 
 Will not disdain to own me :' * Gentle, sir/ 
 
 Answered the man-like maid, * is it to her 
 
 You'd pay your loving tender V * Yes/ said he, 
 
 To Florimel, * if in this place she be ? 
 
 And so my uncle told me/ * Yes/ replied 
 
 The grave virago, ' she is here : yet, sir, 
 
 You must content yourself to speak with her 
 
 Thorough this grate ; her father comes not in, 
 
 And by our laws it is esteem'd a sin 
 
 To interchange ought else, save words with men. ; 
 
 * I ask no more/ the prince replied again. 
 
 * That cannot be denied/ said she, i stay here 
 With patience awhile, and do not fear 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 119 
 
 But you shall see her ;' so away she went, 
 
 Leaving the glad Anaxus to invent 
 
 Excuses for his boldness, if by hap 
 
 She might not prove Clarinda, and entrap 
 
 Him in a lie : Clarinda came at last 
 
 With all her train, who as along she pass'd 
 
 Through the inward court, did make a lane, 
 
 Opening their ranks, and closing them again 
 
 As she went forward, with obsequious gesture, 
 
 Doing their reverence, Her upward vesture 
 
 Was of blue silk, glistering with stars of gold, 
 
 Girt to her waist by serpents, that enfold 
 
 And wrap themselves together, so well wrought 
 
 And fashion'd to the life, one would have thought 
 
 They had been real. Underneath she wore 
 
 A coat of silver tinsel, short before, 
 
 And fring'd about with gold : white buskins hide 
 
 The naked of her leg, they were loose tied 
 
 With azure ribands, on whose knots were seen 
 
 Most costly gems, fit only for a queen. 
 
 Her hair bound up like to a coronet, 
 
 With diamonds, rubies, and rich sapphires set; 
 
 And on the top a silver crescent placed, 
 
 And all the lustre by such beauty graced, 
 
120 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 As her reflection made them seem more fair, 
 
 One would have thought Diana's self were there, 
 
 For in her hand a silver bow she held, 
 
 And at her back there hung a quiver filPd 
 
 With turtle-feathered arrows. Thus attir'd, 
 
 She makes toward Anaxus, who was fir'd 
 
 To hear this goddess speak ; when they came near, 
 
 Both stared upon each other, as if fear 
 
 Or wonder had surprised them ; for awhile 
 
 Neither could speak, at length with a sweet smile, 
 
 Graced with a comely blush, she thus began. 
 
 * Good-morrow, cousin, are not you the man 
 
 That I should speak with? I may be deceived; 
 
 Are not you kin to Memnon? I believ'd 
 
 My maid that told me so; he is my father, 
 
 If you have ought to say to me.' * Fair soul/ 
 
 Answer'd Anaxus, ' many doubts control 
 
 My willingness to answer; pardon me, 
 
 Divinest creature, if my answer be 
 
 Somewhat impertinent ; read here my mind, 
 
 I am Anaxus, and I fain would find 
 
 A chaste Clarinda here/ She was about 
 
 To call the port'ress to have let her out, 
 
 But wisely she call'd back her thought, for fear 
 
 Her virgin troop might see, or over-hear 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 121 
 
 What pass'd between them ; doubts did rise 
 Within her, whether she might trust her eyes. 
 It was Anaxus' voice, she knew that well, 
 But by his disguis'd look she could not tell 
 Whether 'twere he or no; all that she said 
 Was, I may prove Clarindatoo; and pray'd 
 Him stay a little, till her short return 
 Gave him a better welcome : all her train 
 Thought she had fetch'd some jewel for the swain ; 
 And, as they were commanded, kept their station 
 Till her return. The prince with expectation 
 Feeds his faint hopes ; she was not long from thence, 
 And in a letter pleads her innocence, 
 Which he mistrusted ; now she could not speak, 
 But wept her thoughts, for fear her heart should break, 
 And casting o'er a veil to hide her tears, 
 She bid farewell, and leaves him to his fears. 
 With that the gate was shut: Anaxus reads, 
 And with judicious care each sentence heeds ; 
 And now he knew 'twas she, whom he so long 
 Had sought for; now he thinks upon the wrong 
 His rash mistrust had done her, 'twas her will, 
 Whatever he thought of her, to love him still: 
 
122 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Nor could th' Arcadian crown tempt her to break 
 
 Her promise with Anaxus : now to seek 
 
 For an excuse to gild o'er this offence. 
 
 Yet this did somewhat cheer him, two hours thence 
 
 He was enjoin'd to come unto a bower, 
 
 That overlooked the wall ; and at his hour 
 
 Anaxus came ; there she had often spent 
 
 One hour or two each day alone, to vent 
 
 Her private griefs : she came the sooner then 
 
 To meet Anaxus, and to talk again 
 
 With him, whom yet her fears misgave her, might 
 
 Be some disguised cheat. At the first sight 
 
 She frown'd upon him, and with angry look, 
 
 A title but that ill became the book, 
 
 Wherein her milder thoughts were writ. * Are you,' 
 
 Said she, ' Anaxus? these loose lines do show 
 
 Rather you are some counterfeit ; set on 
 
 By some to tempt my honour, here are none 
 
 That love the world so well to sell her fame, 
 
 Or violate her yet unspotted name, 
 
 To meet a king's embraces, though a crown, 
 
 And that the richest, Fortune can stake down 
 
 Should be the hire. J tell thee, saucy swain, 
 
 Whoever sent thee, I so much disdain 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 123 
 
 To yield to what these looser lines import, 
 
 That rather than I will be drawn to court, 
 
 To be Alexis' whore ; nay, or his wife, 
 
 I have a thousand ways to let out life. 
 
 But why dost thou abuse Anaxus so? 
 
 To make him pander to my overthrow: 
 
 Know'st thou the man thou wrongest ; uncivil swain ! 
 
 Thou hast my answer, carry back disdain.' 
 
 With that she was about to fling away 
 
 When he recalTd her; loth to go away, 
 
 Whatever she seem'd. Before she'd turn'd about 
 
 He pull'tl off' his false hair, and cured her doubt. 
 
 ' My dearest Florimel/ said he, and wept: 
 
 * My sweet Clarinda; and hath Heav'n kept 
 
 Thee yet alive to recompense my love ; 
 
 My yet unchang'd affection, that can move 
 
 But in one sphere, in thee, and thee alone, 
 
 Forgive me, my Clarinda, what is done 
 
 Was but to try thee, and when thou shalt know 
 
 The reason why I did so; and what woe 
 
 My love to thee hath made me willingly 
 
 To undergo : thou wilt confess that I 
 
 Deserve Clarinda's love.' Poor Florimel 
 
 Would fain have sooner answer'd ; but tears fell 
 
124 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 In such abundance, that her words were drown'd, 
 
 E'en in their birth ; at length her passions found 
 
 Some little vent to breathe out this reply. 
 
 4 O, my An axn s, if it be no sin 
 
 To call you mine, methinks I now begin 
 
 To breathe new life, for I am but your creature, 
 
 Sorrow hath kilPd what I received from nature. 
 
 Before I saw * you, though this piece of clay 
 
 My body seem'd to move ; until this day 
 
 It did not truly live : my heart you had, 
 
 And that you pleas'd to have it I was glad : 
 
 Yet till you brought it home, the life I led, 
 
 If it were any, was but nourished 
 
 By th' warmth I had from yours, which I still cherish'd 
 
 With some faint hopes, or else I quite had perish'd. 
 
 But time steals on, and I have much to say, 
 
 Take it in brief, for I'd be loth my stay 
 
 Above my usual hour should breed suspect 
 
 In my chaste sisterhood. Blest powers ! direct 
 
 Me what to do ; my soul's in such a strait 
 
 And labyrinth of doubts and fears, that wait 
 
 Upon my weakness, that I know no way 
 
 How to wade out : to-morrow is the day, 
 
 * see, in original edition. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 125 
 
 Th' unwelcome day, when I must to the court, 
 
 For what intent I know not. To be short 
 
 I would not go, nor dare I here to stay, 
 
 The king so wills it: yet should I obey, 
 
 It may perhaps undo me; besides this, 
 
 My father so commands it, and it is 
 
 A well becoming duty in a child 
 
 To stoop unto his will: yet to be styled, 
 
 For doing what he bids me, a loose dame, 
 
 And cause report to question my chaste fame ; 
 
 'Twere better disobey ; a father's will 
 
 Binds like a law in goodness, not in ill. 
 
 I hope I sin not, that so ill conceive 
 
 Of th' end I'm sent for; and, can I believe 
 
 That honour's aim'd at in't? Court favours shine 
 
 Seldom on mean ones, but for some design. 
 
 Are not these fears to startle weak-built woman,. 
 
 A virgin child of virtue, should she summon 
 
 Her best and stout'st resolves;' with that in tears 
 
 And sighs, she speaks the remnant of her fears, 
 
 And sinks beneath their weight. Anaxus soon 
 
 Caught hold of her, pluck'd her to the grate, 
 
 And with a kiss reviv'd her. 'Twas now late, 
 
 The cloister bell had summoned all to bed, 
 
 And she was missing, little more she said, 
 
126 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 ' Save, help me, my Anaxus, keep the jewel 
 
 My love once gave thee :' swift Time was so cruel 
 
 He could not answer; for her virgin train 
 
 Flock'd to the lodge, and she must back again. 
 
 She had enjoin'd him silence, and to speak 
 
 Anaxus durst not, though his heart should break : 
 
 As it was more than full of care and grief 
 
 For his Clarinda, thirsting for relief. 
 
 And in his looks, one might have read his mind, 
 
 How apt it was to afford it ; still she enjoin'd 
 
 Him not to speak ; such was her wary fears 
 
 To be discovered; kisses mix'd with tears 
 
 Was their best oratory: then they part, 
 
 Yet turn again t' exchange each other's heart. 
 
 Something was still forgot ; it is Love's use 
 
 In what chaste thoughts forbid, to find excuse. 
 
 Her virgins knock, in vain she wipes her eyes, 
 
 To hide her passions, that still higher rise. 
 
 She whispers in his ear ; ' think on to-morrow,' 
 
 They faintly bid farewell, both full of sorrow. 
 
 The window shuts, and with a feigned cheer, 
 
 Clarinda wends unto her cloister, where 
 
 Awhile we'll leave her to discourse with fear. 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 127 
 
 Pensive Anaxus to the next town hies, 
 To seek a lodging : rather to advise 
 And counsel with himself, what way he might 
 Plot Florimers escape : 'twas late at night, 
 And all were drown'd in sleep ; save restless lovers, 
 At length, as chance would have it, he discovers 
 A glimm'ring light, tow'rd it he makes, and knocks, 
 And, with fair language, open picks the locks. 
 He enters, and is welcome by his host, 
 Where we will leave him, and return again 
 Unto th' Arcadian court, to sing a strain 
 Of short-liv'd joy, soon sour'd, by such a sorrow 
 As will drink all our tears : and I would borrow 
 Sometime to think on't, 'twill come at the last; 
 Sorrows we dream not on, have sourest taste. 
 
 Cleon and Rhotus, as you heard of late, 
 Were travelling to court, when (led by Fate) 
 They met Thealma, who by them had sent 
 A jewel to the king: six days were spent 
 Before they reach'd the court; for Rhotus 7 sake 
 Cleon was nobly welcomed, means they make 
 To do their message to the love-sick king, 
 And with Sylvanus found him communing. 
 
128 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Sometimes he smil'd, another while he frown'd, 
 
 Anon his paler cheeks with tears been drown'd ; 
 
 And ever and anon he calls a groom, 
 
 And frowning, ask'd if Memrion were not come? 
 
 One might perceive such changes in the king, 
 
 As hath th' inconstant welkin in the Spring; 
 
 Now a fair day, anon a dropsie cloud 
 
 Puts out the sun, and in a sable shroud 
 
 The day seems buried ; when the clouds are o'er r 
 
 The glorious sun shines brighter than before : 
 
 But long it lasts not; so Alexis fared: 
 
 His sun-like majesty was not impair'd 
 
 So much by sorrow, but that now and then 
 
 It would break forth into a smile again. 
 
 At last Sylvanus leaves him for a space, 
 
 And he was going to seek out a place 
 
 To vent his griefs in private ; ere he went, 
 
 He ask'd if one for Memnon was yet sent? 
 
 With that he spies old Rhotus, him he meets, 
 
 And Cleon with him; both he kindly greets. 
 
 They kneeling kiss his hand ; he bids them rise, 
 
 And still Alexis noble Cleon eyes. 
 
 * Whence are you, father,' said he, * what's your name V 
 
 Cleon replied, ' from Lemnos, sir, I came, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 129 
 
 My name is Cleon ;' and full well the king 
 Knew he was so, yet he kept close the thing. 
 He list not let his nobles know so much, 
 Whatever the matter was: his grace was such 
 To the old men, as rich in worth as years. 
 He leads them in, and welcomes them with tears r 
 The thoughts of what had pass'd wrung from his eyes : 
 And with the king, in tears, they sympathize. 
 * O Rhotus/ said he, ' 'twas thy charity 
 That rais'd me to this greatness, else had I 
 Fall'n lower than the grave, and in the w : omb> 
 Of the salt ocean wept me out a tomb. 
 Thy timely help preserved me, so it pleas'd 
 The all-disposing fates/ There the king ceas'd 
 His sad discourse ; he sighs and weeps afresh, 
 And wrings old Rhotus' hand in thankfulness. 
 Sorrow had tongue-tied all, and now they speak 
 Their minds in sighs and tears, nor could they check 
 These embryos of passion : reason knows 
 No way to counsel passion that o'erflows. 
 Yet like to one that falls into a swoon, 
 In whom we can discern no motion, 
 No life, nor feeling, not a gasp of breath, 
 (So like the body's faintings are to death) 
 
130 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 Yet little and by little life steals in, 
 
 At last he comes unto himself again. 
 
 Life was but fled unto the heart for fear, 
 
 And thronging in it, well-nigh stifles there, 
 
 Till by its struggling, Fear that chill 'd the heart, 
 
 Meeting with warmth, is forced for to depart, 
 
 And Life is loose again: So Sorrow wrought 
 
 Upon these three, that any would have thought 
 
 Them weeping statues ; Reason at the length 
 
 Struggling with passions recover'd strength, 
 
 And forc'd a way for speech. Rhotus was first 
 
 That brake this silence, there's none better durst; 
 
 He knew his cause of sorrow, and was sure 
 
 The gladsome news he brought had power to cure 
 
 A death-struck heart; yet in his wisdom he 
 
 Thought it not best, whatever his strength might be, 
 
 To let in joy too soon; too sudden joy, 
 
 Instead of comforting, doth oft destroy : 
 
 Experience had taught him, so 't might be ; 
 
 Nor would old Rhotus venture 't, wherefore he 
 
 By some ambigual discourses thought 
 
 It best to let him know the news he brought. 
 
 So lowly bowing Rhotus thus begins : 
 
 * Dread sovereign, how ill it suits with kings 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 131 
 
 (Whose office 'tis to govern men) that they 
 
 Should be their passions' laws ; self-reason may, 
 
 Or should instruct you: pardon, gracious sir, 
 
 My boldness, virtue brooks no flatterer; 
 
 Nor dare I be so ; you have conquer'd men, 
 
 And rul'd a kingdom; shall your passions then 
 
 Unking Alexis: be yourself again, 
 
 And curb those home-bred rebel thoughts that have 
 
 No power of themselves, but what you gave 
 
 In suff'ring them so long: had you not nurs'd 
 
 Those serpents in your bosom, but had crush'd 
 
 Them in the egg, you then had had your health. 
 
 He rules the best, that best can rule himself.' 
 
 And here he pans'd. Alexis' willing ear 
 
 Was chain'd to his discourse; when with a tear, 
 
 He sigh'd out this reply : * I know it well, 
 
 I would I could do so;' but tears 'gan swell, 
 
 Rais'd by a storm of sighs : he soon had done. 
 
 Which Rhotus noting, boldly thus went on. 
 
 ' Most royal sir, be comforted, I fear 
 
 My rude reproofs affect not your soft ear, 
 
 Which if they have* I'm sorry, gracious sir, 
 
 I ask your pardon, if my judgment err. 
 
 * sic in orig : but evidently erroneous. 
 
132 THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 
 
 1 came to cure your sorrows, not to add 
 
 Unto their heavy weight that makes you sad/ 
 
 * To cure me, Rhotus?' said Alexis, ' no ! 
 
 Good man, thou canst not do% didst thou but know 
 
 The sad cause whence they spring ?' ' Perhaps I do,' 
 
 Replied old Rhotus, f and can name it too. 
 
 If you'll with patience hear me: cheer up then, 
 
 After these show'rs it may be fair again. 
 
 As I remember, when the heav'ns were pleased 
 
 To make me your preserver, you my guest, 
 
 (And happy was it that it fell out so) 
 
 Amongst the many fierce assaults of woe, 
 
 That then oppress'd your spirit, this was one : 
 
 When you were private, as to be alone 
 
 You most affected, I have often heard 
 
 You sigh out one Thealma; nor have spar'd 
 
 To curse the Fates for her: what might she be, 
 
 And what's become of her? If I may be 
 
 So bold to question it, tell us your grief, 
 
 The heart's unlading hastens on relief: 
 
 When sorrows, pent up closely in the breast, 
 
 Destroy unseen, and render such unrest 
 
 To the soul's wearied faculties, that Art 
 
 Despairs to cure them : pluck up a good heart, 
 
THEALMA AND CLEARCHUS. 133 
 
 And cast out those corroding thoughts that wiJl 
 
 In time undo you, and untimely lay 
 
 Your honour in the dust.' The speechless king 
 
 Wept out an answer to his counselling; 
 
 For speak he could not, sighs and sobs so throng'd 
 
 From his sad heart, they had him quite untongued. 
 
 1 Will it not be?' said Rhotus, 'then I see 
 
 Alexis is unthankful ; not that he 
 
 That once I took him for : but, I have done. 
 
 When first 1 found you on the rock, as one 
 
 Left by stern Fate to ruin, well-nigh drown'd, 
 
 And starv'd with cold, yet heaven found, 
 
 E'en in that hopeless exigence, a way 
 
 To raise you to a crown ; and will you pay 
 
 Heav'n's providence with frowns; for ought you 
 
 know, 
 
 She that you sorrow for so much, may owe 
 As much to heav'n as you do, and may live 
 To make the joy complete, which you conceive 
 In your despairing thoughts impossible: 
 I say, who knows but she may be as well 
 As you ; nay, better, more in health and free 
 From headstrong passion?' ' Can I hope to be 
 So happy, Rhotus?' ariswer'd the sad king, 
 
131 THEALMA AND CLEARCHTJS. 
 
 ' No, she is drown'd ; these eyes beheld her sink 
 
 Beneath the mountain waves, and shall I think 
 
 Their cruelty so merciful, to save 
 
 Her, their ambition strove for to en-grave ?' 
 
 6 Why not?' replied old Cleon, who till then 
 
 Had held his peace : ' the gods work not like men ; 
 
 When Reason's self despairs, and help there's none, 
 
 Finding no ground for hope to anchor on ; 
 
 Then is their time to work. This you have known, 
 
 And heaven was pleas'd to mark you out for one 
 
 It meant thus to preserve: 'tis for some end, 
 
 (A good one too, I hope) and heav'n may send 
 
 This happy seed-time such a joyful crop 
 
 As will weigh down your sorrows ; kill not hope 
 
 Before its time, and let it raise your spirit 
 
 To bear your sorrows nobly : never fear it, 
 
 Thealma lives:' 
 
 And here the author died, and I hope the reader will 
 be sorry. 
 
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