PALAMON	AND	ARCITE.
	Where	every	figure	to	the	life	express'd
	The	godhead's	power	to	whom	it	was	address'd.
	In	Venus'	temple	on	the	sides	were	seen
	.The	broken	slumbers	of	enamour'd	men,
	Prayers,	that	even	spoke,	and	pity	seem'd	to	call,
	And	issuing	sighs,	that	sinok'd	along	the	wall,
	Complaints,	and	hot	desires,	the	lover's	Hell,
	And	scalding	tears,	that	wore	a	channel	where
	they	fell	:
	And	all	around	were	nuptial	bonds,	the	ties,
	Of	love's	assurance,	and	a	train	of	lies,
	That,	made	in	lust,	conclude	in	perjuries.
	Beauty,	and	Youth,	and	Wealth,	and	Luxury,
	And	spritely	Hope,	and	short-enduring	Juy	;
	And	sorceries	to	raise	th'	infernal	powers,
	And	sigils,	fram'd	in	planetary	hours	:
	Expense,	and	Afterthought,	and	idle	Care,
	And	Doubts	of	motley	hue,	and	dark	Despair;
	Suspicions,	and	fantastical	Surmise,
	And	Jealousy	suffus'd,	with	jaundice	in	her	eyes,
	Discolouring	all	she	view'd,	in	tawny	dres.s'd,
	Down-look'd,	and	with	a	cuckoo	on	her	fist.
	Oppos'd	to	her,	on	t'	other	side	advance
	The	costly	feast,	the	carol,	and	the	dance,
	Minstrels,	and	music,	poetry,	and	play,
	And	balls	by	nights,	and	tournaments	by	day.
	All	these	were	painted	on	the	wall,	and	more	:
	With	acts	and	monuments	of	times	before	:
	And	others	added	by	prophetic	doom,
	And	lovers	yet	unborn,	and	loves	to	come	:
	For	there	th'	Idalian	mount,	and	Citheron,
	The	court	of	Venus	was	in	colours	drawn	:
	Before	the	palace-gate,	in	careless	dress,
	And	loose	array,	sat	portress	Idleness	:
	There,	by	the	fount,	Narcissus	pin'd	alone	:
	There	Samson	was	;	with	wiser	Solomon,
	And	all	the	mighty	names	by	love	undone.
	Medea's	charms	were	there,	Circean	feasts,
	With	bowls	that	turn'd	enamour'd	youth	to	boasts.
	Here	might	be	seen,	that	beauty,	wealth,	and	wit,
	And	prowess,	to	the	power	of	love	submit:
	The	spreading	snare	for	all	mankind	is	laid	;
	And	lovers	all	betray,	and	are	betray'd.
	The	goddess'	self	some	noble	hand	had	wrought;
	Smiling	she	seem'd,	and	full	of	pleasing	thought	:
	From	ocean	as	she	first	began	to	rise,
	And	smooth'd	the	ruffled	seas	and	clear'd	the	skies,
	She	trod	the	brine>	all	bare	below	the	breast,
	And	the	green	waves	but	ill	conceal'd	the	rest;
	A	lute	she	held;	and	on	her	head	was	seen
	A	wreath	of	roses	red,	and	myrtles	green	;
	Her	turtles	fann'd	the	buxom	air	above;
	And,	by	his	mother,	stood	an	infant	Love,
	With	wings	unfledg'd;	his	eyes	were	banded	o'er;
	His	hands	a	bow,	his	back	a	quiver	bore,
	Supply	'd	with	arrows	bright	and	keen,	a	deadly
	store.
	But-in	the	dome	of	mighty	Mars	the	red
	With	different	figures	all	the	sides	were	spread	;
	This	temple,	less	in	form,	with	equal	grace,
	Was	imitative	of	the	first	in	Thrace	:
	For	that	cold	region	was	the	lov'd	abode,
	And	sovereign	mansion	of	the	warrior	god.
	The	landscape	was	a	forest	wide	and	bare	;
	Where	neither	beast,	nor	human	kind	repair	;
	The	fowl,	that	scent	afar,	the	borders	fly,
	Af.d	shun	the	bitter	blast,	and	wheel	about	the
	sky.
	A	cake	of	scurf	lies	baking	on	the	ground,
	Aud	prickly	stubs,	iustead	of	trees,	ar	found	;
	Or	woods	with	knots	and	knares	d^form'd	and	old;
	Headless	the	most,	and	hideous	to	behold	:
	A	rattling	tempest	through	the	branches	went,
	That	stripp'd	them	bare,	and	one	sole	way	they
	bent.
	Heaven	froze	above,	severe,	the	clouds	congeal,
	And	through	the	crystal	vault	appear'd	the	stand
	ing	hail.
	Such	was	the	face	without;	a	mountain	stood
	Threatening	from	high,	and	overlook'd	the	wood	:
	Beneath	the	lowering	brow,	and	on	a	beat,
	The	temple	stood	of	Mars	armipotent:
	The	frame	of	burnish'd	steel,	tiiat	cast	a	glare
	From	far,	and	seem'd	to	thaw	the	freezing	air.
	A	strait	long	entry	to	the	temple	led,
	Blind	with	high	walls,	and	Horrour	over	head	:
	Thence	issued	such	a	blast,	and	hollow	roar,
	As	threaten'd	from	the	hinge	to	heave	the	door;
	In	through	that	door,	a	northern	light	there	shone	;
	'T\vas	all	it	had,	for	windows	there	were	none;
	The	gate	was	adamant,	eternal	frame	!
	Which,	hevv'd	by	Mars	himself,	from	Indian	quar-
	The	labour	of	a	god	;	and	all	along	[ries	came,
	Tough	iron	plates	were	clench'd	to	make	it	strong.
	A	tun	about	was	eveiy	pillar	there	;
	A	polish'd	mirror	shone	not	half	so	clear.
	There	saw	I	how	the	secret	felon	wrought,
	And	Treason	labouring	in	the	traitor's	thought	:
	And	midwife	Time	the	ripeu'd	plot	to	murder
	brought.
	There	the	red	Anger	dar'd	the	pallid	Fear	;
	Next	stood	Hypocrisy,	with	holy	leer,
	Soft	smiling,	arid	demurely	looking	down,
	But	hid	the	dagger	underneath	the	gown	:
	Th'	assassinating-	wife,	the	household	fiend,
	And,	far	the	blackest	there,	the	traitor-friend.
	On	t'	other	side-there	stood	Destruction	bare,
	Unpunished	Rapine,	and	a	waste	of	war.
	Contest,	with	sharpened	knives,	in	cloisters	drawn,	\
	And	all	with	blood	bespread	the	holy	lawn.
	Loud	menaces	were	heard,	and	foul	Disgrace,
	And	bawling	Infamy,	in	language	base:
	Till	sense	was	lost	in	sound,	and	Silence	fl.*;!
	the	place.
	The	slayer	of	himself	yet	saw	I	there,
	The	gore	congeal'd	was	clotted	in	his	hair	:
	With	eyes	half	clos'd,	and	gaping'	mouth	he	lay,
	And	grim,	as	when	he	breathed	his	sudden	soul
	away.
	In	midst	of	all	the	dome,	Misfortune	sate,
	And	gloomy	Discontent,	and	fell	Debate,
	And	Madness	laughing	in	his	ireful	mood	;
	Andarm'd	Complaint	on	Theft;	aiidcriesof	Blood.
	There	was	the	murder'd	corpse,	in	covert	laid,
	And	violent	Death	in	thousand	shapes	display'd;
	The	city	to	the	soldiers	rage	resign'd	j
	Successless	wars,	and	Poverty	behind	;
	Ships	burnt	in	fight,	or	forc'd	on	rocky	shores,
	And	the	rash	hunter	strangled	by	the	boars	:
	The	new-born	babe	by	nurses	overlaid	;
	And	the	cook	caught	within	the	raging	fire	he
	made.
	All	ills	of	Mars's	nature,	flame	and	steel;
	The	gasping	charioteer,	beneath	the	wheel
	Of	his	own	car;	the	ruin'd	house,	that	falls
	And	intercepts	her	lord	betwixt	the	walls	:
	The	whole	division,	that	to	Mars	pertains,
	All	trades	of	death,	that	deal	in	steel	for	gains,
	Were	there	:	the	butcher,	armourer,	and	smith,
	Who	forges	sharpen'd	t'aulchions,	or	the	scythe.


30
	The	scarlet	Conquest-on	a	tower	was	plac'd,
	With	shouts,	and	soldiers'	acclamations	grac'd	:
	A	pointed	sword	hung	threatening	o'er	his	head,
	Sustain'd	but	by	a	slender	twine	of	thread.
	There	saw	I	Mars's	ides,	the	Capitol,
	The	seer	in	vain	foretelling	Caesar's	fall	;
	The	last	triumvirs,	and	the	wars	they	move,
	And	Antony,	who	lost	the	world	for	love.
	These,	and	a	thousand	more,	the	fane	adorn	;
	Their	fates	were	painted	ere	the	men	were	born,
	All	copied	from	the	Heavens,	and	ruling	force
	Of	the	red	star,	in	his	revolving	course.
	The	form	of	Mars	high	on	a	chariot	stood,
	All	sheath'd	in	arms,	and	gruffly	look'd	the	god	:
	Two	geomantic	figures	were	display'd
	Above	his	head,	a	warrior	and	a	maid	;
	One	when	direct,	and	one	when	retrograde.
	Tir'd	with	deformities	of	death,	I	haste
	To	the	third	temple	of	Diana	chaste.
	A	sylvan	scene	with	various	greens	was	drawn,
	Shades	on	the	sides,	and	on	the	midst	a	lawn	:
	The	silver	Cynthia,	with	her	nymphs	ai-ound,
	Pursued	the	flying	deer,	the	woods	with	horns
	resound	:
	Calisto	there	stood	manifest	of	shame,
	And,	turn'd	a	bear,	the	northern	star	became	:
	Her	son	was	next,	and,	by	peculiar	grace,
	In	the	cold	circle	held	the	second	place	:
	The	stag	Acteon	in	the	stream	had	spy'd
	The	naked	huntress,	and,	for	seeing,	dy'd	:
	His	hounds,	unknowing	of	his	change,	pursue
	The	chase,	and	their	mistaken	master	slew.
	Peneian	Daphne	too	was	there	to	see,
	Apollo's	love	before,	and	now	his	tree	:
	Th'	adjoining	fane	th'	assembled	Greeks	ex-
	press'd,
	And	hunting	of	the	Caledonian	beast.
	Oenides'	valour,	and	his	envy'd	prize	;
	The	fatal	power	of	Atalanta's	eyes	;
	Diana's	vengeance	on	the	victor	shown,
	The	murdress	mother,	and	consuming	son;
	The	Volscian	queen	extended	on	the	plain	;
	The	treason	punish'd,	and	the	traitor	slain.
	The	rest	were	various	huntings,	well	design'd,
	And	savage	beasts	destroy'd,	of	every	kind.
	Tlie	graceful	goddess	was	array'd	in	green	;
	About	her	feet	were	little	beagles	seen,
	That	watch'd	with	upward	eyes	the	motions	of
	their	queen.
	Her	legs	were	buskin'd,	and	the	left	before	j
	In	act	to	shoot,	a	silver	bow	she	bore,
	And	at	her	back	a	painted	quiver	wore.
	She	trod	a	wexing	moon,	that	soon	would	wane,
	And	drinking	borrow'd	light,	be	fill'd	again
	With	downcast	eyes,	as	seeming	to	survey
	The	dark	dominions,	her	alternate	sway.
	Before	her	stood	a	woman	in	her	throes,
	And	call'd	Lucina's	aid,	her	burden	to	disclose.
	All	these	the	painter	drew	with	such	command,
	That	Nature	snatch'd	the	pencil	from	his	hand,
	Asham'd	and	angry	that	his	art	could	feign
	And	mend	the	tortures	of	a	mother's	pain.
	Theseus	beheld	the	fanes	of	every	god,
	And	thought	his	mighty	cost	was	well	bestow'd.
	So	princes	now	their	poets	should	regard	;
	But	few	can	write,	and	fewer	can	reward.
	The	theatre	thus	rais'd,	the	lists	enclos'd,
	And	all	with	vast	magnificence	dispos'd,
	We	leave	the	monarch	pleas'd,	and	haste	to.	bring
	The	kuights	to	combat	;	and	their	arms	to	sing.
	DRYDEN'S	POEMS.
	PALAMON	AND	ARC1TE:
	OR	THE	KNIGHT'S	TALE.
	BOOK	III.
	THE	day	approach'd	when	Fortune	should	de
	cide
	Th'	important	enterprize,	and	give	the	bride	;
	For	now,	the	rivals	round	the	world	had	soughj.
	And	each	his	rival,	well	appointed,	brought.
	The	nations,	far	and	near,	contend	in	choice,
	And	send	the	flower	of	war	by	public	voice	j
	That	after,	or	before,	were	never	known
	Such	chiefs,	as	each	an	army	seem'd	alone	:
	Beside	the	champions,	all	of	high	degree,
	Who	knighthood	lov'd,	and	deeds	of	chivalry,
	Throng'd	to	the	lists,	and	envy'd	to	behold
	The	names	of	others,	not	their	own,	enroll'd.
	Nor	seems	it	strange	;	for	every	noble	knight
	Who	loves	the	fair,	and	is	endu'd	with	might,
	In	such	a	quarrel	would	be	proud	to	fight.
	There	breathes	not	scarce	a	man	on	British
	ground
	(An	isle	for	love	and	arms	of	old	renown'd)
	But	would	have	sold	his	life	to	purchase	fame,
	To	Palamon	or	Arcite	sent	his	name	:
	And	had	the	land	selected	of	the	best,
	Half	had	come	hence,	and	let	the	world	provide
	the	rest.
	A	hundred	knights	with	Palamon	there	came,
	Approv'd	in	fight,	and	men	of	mighty	name	;
	Their	arms	were	several,	as	their	nations	were,
	But	furnish'd	all	alike	with	sword	and	spear.
	Some	wore	coat	armour,	imitating	scale	;
	And	next	their	skins	were	stubborn	shirts	of	mail.
	Some	wore	a	breastplate	and	a	light	juppon,
	Their	horses	cloth'd	with	rich	caparison	:
	Some	for	defence	would	leathern	bucklers	use,
	Of	folded	hides	;	and	others	shields	of	pruce.
	One	hung	a	pole-axe	at	his	saddle-bow,
	And	one	a	heavy	mace	to	shun	the	foe.
	One	for	his	legs	and	knees	provided	well,
	With	jambeux	arm'd,	and	double	plates	of
	This	on	his	helmet	wore	a	lady's	glove,	[steel.
	And	that	a	sleeve	embroider'd	by	his	love.
	With	Palamon,	above	the	rest	in	place,
	Lycurgus	came,	the	surly	king	of	Thrace	;
	Black	was	his	beard,	and	manly	was	his	face	;
	The	balls	of	his	broad	eyes	roll'd	in	his	head,
	And	glar'd	betwixt	a	yellow	and	a	red	:
	He	look'd	a	lion	with	a	gloomy	stare,
	And	o'er	his	eyebrows	hung	his	matted	hair	:
	Big-bon'd,	and	large	of	limbs,	with	sinews	strong,
	Broad-shoulder'd,	and	his	arms	were	round	and
	long.
	Four	milkwhite	bulls	(the	Thracian	use	of	old)
	Were	yok'd	to	draw	his	car	of	burnish'd	gold.
	Upright	he	stood,	and	bore	aloft	his	shield,
	Conspicuous	from	afar,	and	overlook'd	the	field.
	His	surcoat	was	a	bear-skin	on	his	back	;
	His	hair	hung	long	behind,	and	glossy	raven
	His	ample	forehead	bore	a	coronet,	[black.
	With	sparkling	diamonds	and	with	rubies	set	:
	Ten	brace,	and	more,	of	greyhounds,	sno\yy
	fair,	[his	chair,
	And	tall	as	stags,	ran	loose,	and	cours'd	around
	A	match	for	pards	in	flight,	in	grapling	for	the
	bear:


PALAMON	AND	ARCITE.
	31
	With	golden	muzzles	all	their	mouths	were
	bound,
	And	collars	of	the	same	their	necks	surround.
	Thus	through	the	fields	Lycurgus	took	his	way	;
	His	hundred	knights	attend	in	pomp	and	proud
	array.
	To	match	this	monarch,	with	strong	Arcite	came
	Emetrius,	king	of	Inde,	a	mighty	name,
	On	a	bay	coiirser,	goodly	to	behold,
	The	trappings	of	his	horse	adorn'd	with	barbarous
	gold.
	Not	Mars	bestrode	a	steed	with	greater	grace	;
	His	surcoat	o'er	his	arms	was	cloth	of	Thrace,
	Adorn'd	with	pearls,	all	orient,	round,	and	great	;
	His	saddle	was	of	gold,	with	emeralds	set.
	His	shoulders	large,	a	mantle	did	attire,
	With	rubies	thick,	and	sparkling	as	the	fire	:
	His	amber-colour'd	locks	in	ringlets	run,
	With	graceful	negligence,	and	shone	against	the
	Sun.
	His	nose	was	aquiline,	his	eyes	were	blue,
	Ruddy	his	lips,	and	fresh	and	fair	his	hue	:
	Some	sprinkled	freckles	on	his	face	were	seen,
	Whose	dusk	set	off	the	whiteness	of	the	skin	:
	His	awful	presence	did	the	crowd	surprize,
	Nor	durst,	the	rash	spectator	meet	his	eyes,
	Eyes	that	contess'd	him	born	for	kingly	sway,
	So	fierce,	they	flash'd	intolerable	day.
	His	age	in	Nature's	youthful	prime	appear'd,
	And'just	began	to	bloom	his	yellow	beard.
	Whene'er	he	spoke,	his	voice	was	heard	around,
	Loud	as	a	trumpet,	with	a	silver	sound	:
	A	laurel	wreath'd	his	temples,	fresh	and	green	;
	And	myrtle	sprigs,	the	marks	of	love,	were	mix'd
	between.
	Upon	his	fist	he	bore,	for	his	delight,
	An	eagle	wellreclaim'd,	and	lily	white.
	His	hundred	knights	attend	him	to	the	war,
	All	arm'd	for	battle	;	save	their	heads	were	bare.
	Words	and	devices	blaz'd	on	every	shield,
	And	pleasing	was	the	terrour	of	the	field.
	For	kings,	and	dukes,	and	barons	you	might	see,
	Like	sparkling	stars,	though	different	in	degree,
	All	for	th'	increase	of	arms,	and	love	of	chivalry.
	Before	the	king	tame	leopards	led	the	way,
	And	troops	of	lions	innocently	play.
	So	Bacchus	through	the	conquer'd	Indies	rode,
	And	beasts	in	gambols	frisk'd	before	the	honest
	In	this	array	the	war	of	either	side	[gd.
	Through	Athens	pass'd	with	military	pride.
	At	prime,	they	enter'd	on	the	Sunday	morn	;
	Rich	tapestiy	spread	the	streets,	and	flowers	the
	posts	adorn.
	The	town	was	all	a	jubilee	of	feasts	;
	So	Theseus	will'd,	in	honour	of	his	guests	;
	Himself	with	open	arms	the	king	embrac'd,
	Then	all	the	rest	in	their	degrees	were	grac'd.
	No	harbinger	was	needful	for	a	night,
	For	every	house	was	proud	to	lodge	a	knight.
	I	pass	the	royal	treat,	nor	must	relate
	The	gifts	bestow'd,	nor	how	the	champions	sate	:
	Who	first,	or	last,	or	how	the	knights	address'd
	Their	vows,	or	who	was	fairest	at	the	feast;
	Whose	voice,	whose	graceful	dance,	did	most	sur
	prise;
	Soft	amorous	sighs,	and	silent	love	of	eyes.
	The	rivals	call	my	Muse	another	way,
	To	sing	their	vigils	for	th'	ensuing	day.
	'T\vas	ebbing	darkness,	past	the	noon	of	night,
	And	Phosphor,	on	the	confines	of	th	light,
	Promis'd	the	Sun,	ere	day	began	to	spring;
	The	tuneful	lark	already	stretch'd	her	wing,
	And,	flickering	on	her	nest,	made	short	essays	t
	sing	:	,
	When	wakeful	Palamon,	preventing	day,
	Took,	to	the	royal	lists,	his	early	way,
	To	Venus	at	her	fane,	in	her	own	house,	to	pray.
	There,	falling	on	his	knees	before	her	shrine,
	He	thus	iuiplor'd	with	prayers	her	power	divine.
	"	Creator	Venus,	genial	power	of	love,
	The	bliss	of	men	below,	and	gods	above	!
	Beneath	the	sliding	Sun	thou	runn'st	thy	race,
	Dost	fairest	shine,	and	best	become	thy	place.
	For	thee	the	winds	their	eastern	blasts*	forbear,
	Thy	month	reveals	the	spring,	and	opens	all	the
	year.
	Thee,	Goddess,	thee	the	storms	of	winter	fly,
	Earth	smiles	with	flowers	renewing,	laughs	the
	sky,	[apply-
	And	birds	to	lays	of	love	their	tuneful	notes
	For	thee	the	lion	loaths	the	taste	of	blood,
	And	roaring	hunts	his	female	through	the	wood	:
	For	thee	the	bulls	rebellow	through	the	groves,
	And	tempt	the	stream,	and	snuff	their	absent
	loves.
	'Tis	thine,	whate'er	is	pleasant,	good,	or	fair	:
	All	nature	is	thy	province,	life	thy	care	:
	Thou	mad'st	the	world,	and	dost	the	world	re
	pair.
	Thou	gladder	of	the	mount	of	Cytheron,
	Increase	of	Jove,	companion	of	the	Sun	;
	If	e'er	Adonis	touch'd	thy	tender	heart,
	Have	pity,	goddess,	for	thou	know'st	the	smart,,
	Alas	!	I	have	not	words	to	tell	my	grief;
	To	vent	my	sorrow,	would	be	some	relief;
	Light	sufferings	give	us	leisure	to	complain	;
	We	groan,	but	cannot	speak,	in	greater	pain.
	O	goddess,	tell	thyself	what	1	would	say,
	Thou	know'st	it,	and	I	feel	too	much	to	pray.
	So	grant	my	suit,	as	I	enforce	my	might,
	In	love	to	be	thy	champion,	and	thy	knight	;
	A	servant	to	thy	sex,	a	slave	to	thee,
	A	foe	protest	to	barren	chastity.
	Nor	ask	I	fame	or	honour	of	the	field,
	Nor	choose	I	more	to	vanquish	than	to	yield.:*
	In	my	divine	Emilia	make	me	blest,
	Let	Fate,	or	partial	Chance,	dispose	the	rest	:
	Find	thou	the	manner,	and	the	means	prepare	j
	Possession,	more	than	conquest,	is	my	care.
	Mars	is	the	warrior's	god;	in	him	it	lies,
	On	whom	he	favours	to	confer	the	prize;
	With	smiling	aspect	you	serenely	move
	In	your	fifth	orb,	and	rule	the	realm	of	love.
	The	Fates	but	only	spin	the	coarser	clue,
	The	finest	of	the	wool	is	left	for	you.
	Spare	me	but	one	small	portion	of	the	twine,
	And	let	the	sisters	cut	below	your	line	:
	The	rest	among	the	rubbish	may	they	sweep,
	Or	add	it	to	the	yarn	of	some	old	miser's	heap.
	But,	if	you	this	ambitious	prayer	deny,
	(A	wish,	I	grant,	beyond	mortality)
	Then	let	me	sink	beneath	proud	Arcite's	arms.
	And,	1	once	dead,	let	him	possess	her	charms."
	Thus	ended'he;	then,	with	observance	due,
	The	sacred	incense	on	her	altar	threw	:
	The	curling	smoke	mounts	heavy	from	the	rires	;
	At	length	it	catches	flame,	and	in	a	blaze	ek-
	pires	;
	At	once	the	graciows	goddess	gave	the	sign,
	Her	statue	shook,	and	trembled	all	the	shrine	*


DRYDEN'S	POEMS.
	At	once	the	crowd	arose	;	confus'd	and	high
	Ev'n	from	the	Heaven	was	heard	a	shouting	cry	;
	For	Mars	was	early	up,	and	rous'd	the	sky.
	The	gods	came	downward	to	behold	the	wars,
	Sharpening	their	sights,	and	leaning	from	their
	stars.
	The	neighing	of	the	generous	horse	was	heard,
	For	battle	by	the	busy	groom	prepar'd,
	Rustling	of	harness,	rattling	of	the	shield,
	Clattering	of	armour,	furbish'd	for	the	field.
	Crowds	to	the	castle	mounted	up	the	street,
	Battering	the	pavement	with	their	coursers'	feet:
	The	greedy	sight	might	there	devour	the	gold
	Of	glittering	arms,	too	dazzling	to	behold	:
	And	polish'd	steel	that	cast	the	view	aside,
	And	crested	morions,	with	their	plumy	pride.
	Knights,	with	a	long	retinue	of	their	squires,
	In	gaudy	liveries	march,	and	quaint	attires.
	One	lac'd	the	helm,	another	held	the	lance,
	A	third	the	shining	buckler	did	advance.
	The	courser	paw'd	the	ground	with	restless	feet,
	And	snorting	foam'd,	andchamp'd	the	golden	bit.
	The	smiths	and	armourers	on	palfreys	ride,
	Files	in	their	hands,	and	hammers	at	their	side,
	And	nails	for	loosen'd	spears,	and	thongs	for
	shields	provide.
	The	yeomen	guard	the	streets,	in	seemly	bands	;
	And	clowns	come	crowding	on,	with	cudgels	in
	their	hands.
	The	trumpets,	next	the	gate,	in	order	plac'd,
	Attend	the	sign	to	sound	the	martial	blast	;
	The	palace-yard	is	fill'd	with	floating	tides,
	And	the	last	comers	bear	the	former	to	the	sides.
	The	throng	is	in	the	midst	:	the	common	crew
	Shut	out,	the	hall	admits	the	better	few	;
	In	knots	they	stand,	or	in	a	rank	they	walk,
	Serious	in	aspect,	earnest	in	their	talk	:
	Factious,	and	favouring	this	or	t'	other	side,
	As	their	strong	fancy	or	weak	reason	guide	:
	Their	wagers	back	their	wishes	;	numbers	hold
	With	the	fair	freckled	king,	and	beard	of	gold	:
	So	vigorous	are	his	eyes,	such	rays	they	cast,
	So	prominent	his	eagle's	beak	is	plac'd.
	But	most	their	looks	on	the	black	monarch	bend,
	His	rising	muscles	and	his	brawn	commend;
	His	double-biting	axe	and	beaming	spear,
	Each	asking	a	gigantic	force	to	rear.
	All	spoke	as	partial	favour	mov'd	the	mind	:
	And,	safe	themselves,	at	others'	cost	divin'd.
	Wak'd	by	the	cries,	th'	Athenian	chief	arose,
	The	knightly	forms	of	combat	to	dispose	;	[sate
	And	passing	through	th	1	obsequious	guards,	he
	Conspicuous	on	a	throne,	sublime	in	state	;
	There,	for	the	two	contending	knights	he	sent	:
	Arm'd	cap-a-pee,	with	reverence	low	they	bent	;
	He	smil'd	on	both,	and	with	superior	look
	Alike	their	offer'd	adoration	took.
	The	people	press	on	every	side,	to	see
	Their	awful	prince,	and	hear	his	high	decree.
	Then	signing	to	their	heralds	with	his	hand,
	They	gave	his	orders	from	their	lofty	stand.
	Silence	is	thrice	enjoin'd	;	then	thus	aloud
	The	king	at	arms	bespeaks	the	knights	and
	listening	crowd.
	"	Our	sovereign	lord	has	ponder'd	in	his	mind
	The	means	to	spare	the	blood	of	gentle	kind	;
	And	of	his	grace,	and	inborn	clemency,
	He	modifies	his	first	severe	decree,
	The	keener	edge	of	battle	to	rebate,
	The	troops	for	honour	fighting,	not	for	hate.
	I
	He	wills,	not	death	should	terminate	their	strife	-	t
	And	wounds,	if	wounds	ensue,	be	short	of	life:
	Put	issues,	ere	the	fight,	his	dread	command,
	That	slings	afar,	and	poinards	hand	to	hand,
	Be	banish'd	from	the	field	;	that	none	shall	dare
	With	shortned	sword	to	stab	in	closer	war	;
	But	m	fair	combat	fight	with	manly	strength,
	Nor	push	with	biting	point,	but	strike	at	length.
	The	tourney	is	allow'd	but	one	career,
	Of	the	tough	ash,	with	the	sharp-grinded	spear.
	But	knights	unhors'd	may	rise	from	off	the	plain,
	And	fight	on	foot	their	honour	to	regain	;
	Nor,	if	at	mischief	taken,	on	the	ground
	Be	slain,	but	prisoners	to	the	pillar	bound,
	At	either	barrier	plac'd	;	nor	(captives	made)
	Be	freed,	or	arm'd	anew	the	fight	invade.
	The	chief	of	either	side,	bereft	of	life,
	Or	yielded	to	his	foe,	concludes	the	strife,	[young
	Thus	dooms	the	lord:	now	valiant	knights	and
	Fight	each	his	fill	with	swords	and	maces	long."
	The	herald	ends	:	the	vaulted	firmament
	With	loud	acclaims	and	vast	applause	is	rent	:
	"	Heaven	guard	a	prince	so	gracious	and	so	good,
	So	just,	and	yet	so	provident	of	blood	1"
	This	was	the	general	cry.	The	trumpets	sound,
	And	warlike	symphony	is	heard	around.	[way,
	The	inarching	troops	through	Athens	take	their
	The	great	earl-marshal	orders	their	array.
	The	fair	from	high	the	passing	pomp	behold	;
	A	rain	of	flowers	is	from	the	windows	rolPd.
	The	casements	are	with	golden	tissue	spread,
	And	horses	hoofs,	for	earth,	on	silken	tapestry
	tread	;
	The	king	goes	midmost,	and	the	rivals	ride
	In	equal	rank,	and	close	his	either	side.
	Next	after	these,	there	rode	the	royal	wife,
	With	Emily,	the	cause	and	the	reward	of	strife.
	The	following	cavalcade,	by	three	and	three,
	Proceed	by	titles	marshal'd	in	degree.
	Thus	through	the	southern	gate	they	take	their
	And	at	the	list	arriv'd	ere	prime	of	day.	[way,
	There,	parting	from	the	king,	the	chiefs	divide,
	And,	wheeling	east	and	west,	before	their	many
	ride.
	Th	1	Athenian	monarch	mounts	his	throne	on	high,,
	And	after	him	the	queen	and	Emily	:
	Next	these	the	kindred	of	the	crown	are	grac'd
	With	nearer	seats,	and	lords	by	ladies	plac'd:
	Scarce	were	they	seated,	when,	with	clamours	loud,
	In	rush'd	at	once	a	rude	promiscuous	crowd	;
	The	guards	and	then	each	other	overbear,
	And	in	a	moment	throng	the	spacious	theatre.
	Now	chang'd	the	jarring	noise	to	whispers	low,
	As	winds	forsaking	seas	more	softly	blow	;
	When	at	the	western	gate,	on	which	the	car
	Is	plac'd	aloft,	that	bears	the	god	of	war,
	Proud	Arcite	entering	arm'd	before	his	train,
	Stops	at	the	barrier,	and	divides	the	plain.
	Red	was	his	banner,	and	display'd	abroad
	The	bloody	colours	of	his	patron	god.
	At	tbat	self	moment	enters	Palamon
	The	gate	of	Venus,	and	the	rising-sun	;
	Wav'd	by	the	wanton	winds,	his	banner	flies,
	All	maiden	white,	and	shares	the	people's	eyes,
	From	east	to	west,	look	all	the	world	around,
	Two	troops	so	match'd	were	never	to	be	found	:
	Such	bodies	built	for	strength,	of	equal	age,
	In	stature	sizTl	;	so	proud	an	equipage:
	The	nicest	eye	could	no	distinction	make,
	Where	lay	th'	advantage,	or	what	side	to	take.


PALAMON	AND	ARCITE.
	Thus	rang'd,	the	herald	for	the	last	proclaims
	A	silence,	while	they	answer'd	to	their	names	:
	For	so	the	king	decreed,	to	shun	the	care,
	The	fraud	of	musters	false,	the	common	bane
	of	war.
	The	tale	was	just,	and	then	the	gates	were	clos'd	;
	And	chief	to	chief,	and	troop	to	troop	oppos'd.
	The	heralds	last	retir'd,	and	loudly	cry'd,
	The	fortune	of	the	field	be	fairly	try'd.
	At	this,	the	challenger	with	fierce	defy
	His	trumpet	sounds;	the	challeng'd	makes	re
	ply	:	[vaulted	sky.
	With	clangor	rings	the	field,	resounds	the
	Their	vizors	closed,	their	lances	in	the	rest,
	Or	at	the	helmet	pointed,	or	the	crest;
	They	vanish	from	the	barrier,	speed	the	race,
	And	spurring	see	decrease	the	middle	space.
	A	cloud	of	smoke	envelops	either	host,
	And	all	at	once	the	combatants	are	lost	:
	Darkling	they	join	adverse,	and	shock	unseen,
	Coursers	with	coursers	justling,	men	with	men	:
	As	labouring	in	eclipse,	a	while	they	stay,
	Till	the	next	blast	of	wind	restores	the	day.
	They	look	anew	:	the	beauteous	form	of	fight
	Is	chang'd,	and	war	appears	a	grizly	sight.
	Two	troops	in	fair	array	one	moment	show'd,
	The	next,	a	field	with	fallen	bodies	strow'd	:
	Not	half	the	number	in	their	seats	are	found	;
	But	men	and	steeds	lie	groveling	on	the	ground.
	The	points	of	spears	are	stuck	within	the	shield,
	The	steeds	without	their	riders	scour	the	field.
	The	knights	unhors'd,	on	foot	renew	the	fight	;
	The	glittering	faulchions	cast	a	gleaming	light	:
	Hauberks	and	helms	are	hew'd	with	many	a
	wound.	[ground.
	Out	spins	the	streaming	blood,	and	dies	the
	The	mighty	maces	with	such	haste	descend,
	They	break	the	bones,	and	make	the	solid	ar
	mour	bend.
	This	thrusts	amid	the	throng	with	furious	force	;
	Down	goes,	at	once,	the	horseman	and	the	horse	:
	That	courser	stumbles	on	the	fallen	steed,
	And,	floundering,	throws	the	rider	o'er	his	head.
	One	rolls	along,	a	foot-ball	to	his	foes;
	One	with	a	broken	truncheon	deals	his	blows.
	This	halting,	this	disabled	with	his	wound,
	In	triumph	led,	is	to	the	pillar	bound,
	Where	by	the	kind's	award	he	must	abide	:
	There	goes	a	captive	led	on	t'	other	side.
	By	fits	they	cease	;	and,	leaning	on	the	lance,
	Take	breath	a	while,	and	to	new	fight	advance.
	Full	oft	the	rivals	met,	and	neither	spar'd
	His	utmost	force,	and	each	forgot	to	ward.
	The	head	of	this	was	to	the	saddle	bent,
	The	other	backward	to	the	crupper	sent	:
	Both	were	by	turns	unhors'd	;	the	jealous	blows
	Fall	thick	and	heavy,	when	on	foot	they	close.
	So	deep	their	faulchions	bite,	that	every	stroke
	Pierc'd	to	the	quick	;	and	equal	wounds	they	gave
	and	took.
	Borne	far	asunder	by	the	tides	of	men,
	Like	adamant	and	steel	they	meet	again.
	So	when	a	tiger	sucks	the	bullock's	blood,
	A	famish'd	lion,	issuing	from	the	wood,
	Roars	lordly	fierce,	and	challenges	the	food.
	Each	claims	possession,	neither	will	obey,
	But	both	their	paws	are	fasten'd	on	the	prey	;
	They	bite,	they	tear	;	and	while	in	vain	they	strive,
	The	swains	come	arm'd	between,	and	both	to	dis
	tance	drive.
	35
	At	length,	as	Fate	foredoom'd,	and	all	things
	By	course	of	time	to	their	appointed	end	;	[tend
	So	when	the	Sun	to	west	was	far	declin'd,
	And	both	afresh	in	mortal	battle	join'd,
	The	strong	Emetrius	came	in	Arcite's	aid,
	And	Palamon	with	odds	was	overlaid	:
	For,	turning	short,	he	struck	with	all	his	might
	Full	on	the	helmet	of	th'	unwary	knight.
	Deep	was	the	wound	;	he	stagger'd	with	the	blow,
	And	turn'd	him	to	his	unexpected	foe	;
	Whom	with	such	force	he	struck,	he	fell'd	him
	down,
	And	cleft	the	circle	of	his	golden	crown.
	But	Arcite's	men,	who	now	prevail'd	in	fight,
	Twice	ten	at	once	surround	the	single	knight	:
	O'erpower'd,	at	length,	they	force	him	to	the
	ground,
	Unyielded	as	he	was,	and	to	the	pillar	bound;
	And	king	Lycurgus,	while	he	fought	in	vain
	His	friend	to	free,	was	tumbled	on	the	plain.
	Who	now	laments	but	Palamon,	compell'd
	No	more	to	try	the	fortune	of	the	field	!
	And,	worse	than	death,	to	view	with	hateful	eyes
	His	rival's	conquest,	and	renounce	the	prize	!
	The	royal	judge,	on	his	tribunal	plac'd,
	Who	had	'beheld	the	fight	from	first	to	last,
	Bad	cease	the	war;	pronouncing	from	on	high,
	Arcite	of	Thebes	had	won	the	beauteous	Emily.
	The	sound	of	trumpets	to	the	voice	reply'd,
	And	round	the	royal	lists	the	heralds	cry'd,
	"	Arcite	of	Thebes	has	won	the	beauteous	bride."
	The	people	rend	the	skies	with	vast	applause	;
	All	own	the	chief,	when	Fortune	owns	the	cause.
	Arcite	is	own'd	ev'n	by	the	gods	above,
	And	conquering	Mars	insults	the	queen	of	love.
	So	laugh'd	he,	when	the	rightful	Titan	fail'd,
	And	Jove's	usurping	arms	in	Heaven	prevail'd:
	Laugh'd	all	the	powers	who	favour	tyranny	;
	And	all	the	standing	army	of	the	sky.
	But	Venus	with	dejected	eyes	appears,
	And,	weepinir,	on	the	lists	distill'd	her	tears	;
	Her	will	refus'd,	which	grieves	a	woman	most,
	And,	in	her	champion	foil'd,	the	cause	of	Lovf
	is	lost.
	Till	Saturn	said,	"	Fair	daughter,	now	be	still,
	The	blustering	fool	has	satisfy^!	his	will	;
	His	boon	is	given	;	his	knight	has	gain'd	the	day,
	But	lost	the	prize,	th'	arrears	are	yet	to	pay.
	Thy	hour	is	come,	and	mine	the	care	shall	be
	To	please	thy	knight,	and	set	thy	promise	free."
	Now	while	the	heralds	run	the	lists	around,
	And	Arcite,	Arcite,	Heaven	and	Earth	resound;
	A	miracle	(nor	less	it	could	be	call'd)
	Their	joy	with	unexpected	sorrow	pall'd.
	The	victor	knight	had	laid	his	helm	aside,
	Part	for	his	ease,	the	greater	part	for	pride	:
	Bare-headed,	popularly	low	he	bow'd,
	And	paid	the	salutations	of	the	crowd.
	Then,	spurring	at	full	speed,	ran	endlong	on
	Where	Theseus	sate	on	his	imperial	throne	^
	Furious	he	drove,	and	upward	cast	his	eye,
	Where	next	the	queen	was	plac'd	his	Emily;
	Then	passing	to	the	saddle-bow	he	bent	:
	A	sweet	regard	the	gracious	virgin	lent
	(For	women,	to	the	bra^ve	an	easy	prey,
	Still	follow	Fortune	where	she	leads	the	way):
	Just	then,	from	earth	sprung	out	a	flashing	fire,
	By	Pluto	sent,	at	Saturn's	bad	desire	:
	The	startling	steed	was	seiz'd	with	sudden	fright,
	And,	bounding,	o'er	the	pummel	cast	the	knight	:


DRYDEN'S	POEMS.
	So	sweetly	would	he	wake	the	winter-day,
	Ttiat	matrons	to	the	church	mistook	their	way,
	And	thought	they	heard	the	merry	organ	play.
	And	he,	to	raise	his	voice	with	artfui	care,
	(What	will	not	beaux	attempt	to	please	the	fair	?)
	On	tiptoe	stood	to	sing	with	greater	strength,
	And	stretch'd	his	comely	neck	at	all	the	length	:
	And	while	he	strain'd	his	voice	to	pierce	the	skies,
	As	saints	in	raptures	use,	would	shut	his	eyes,
	That	the	sound	striving	through	the	narrow	throat,
	His	winking	might	avail	to	mend	the	note.
	By	this,	in	song,	he	never	had	his	peer,
	From	sweet	Cecilia	down	to	Chanticleer;
	Not	Maro's	Muse,	who	sung	the	mighty	man,
	Nor	Pindar's	heavenly	lyre,	nor	Horace	when	a
	swan.
	Your	ancestors	proceed	from	race	divine:
	From	Brennus	and	Belinus	is	your	line;
	Who	gave	to	sovereign	Rome	such	loud	alarms,
	That	ev'n	the	priests	were	not	excus'd	from	arms.
	"	Besides,	a	famous	monk	of	modei'n	times
	Has	left	of	cocks	recorded	in	his	rhymes,
	That	of	a	parish-priest	the	son	and	heir,
	(When	sons	of	priests	were	from	the	proverb	clear)
	Affronted	once	a	cock	of	noble	kind,
	And	either	lam'd	his	legs,	or	struck	him	blind	;
	For	which	the	clerk	his	father	was	disgrac'd,
	And	in	his	benefice	another	plac'd.
	Now	sing,	my	lord,	if	not	for	love	of	me,
	Yet	for	the	sake	of	sweet	saint	Charity	;
	Makehills	and	dales,	and	Earth	and	Heaven	rejoice,
	And	emulate	your	father's	angel	voice."
	The	cock	was	pleas'd	to	hear	him	speak	so	fair,
	And	proud	beside,	as	solar	people	are	;
	Nor	could	the	treason	from	the	truth	descry,
	So	was	he	ravish'd	with	this	flattrry	:
	So	much	the	more,	as,	from	a	little	elf,
	He	had	a	high	opinion	of	himself;
	Though	sickly,	slender,	and	not	large	oiHimb,
	Concluding	all	the	world	was	made	for	him.
	Ye	princes,	rais'd	by	poets	to	the	gods,
	And	Alexander'd	up	in	lying	odes,
	Believe	not	every	flattering	knave's	repoi't,	.
	There's	many	a	Reynard	lurking	in	the	court;
	And	he	shall	be	receiv'd	with	more	regard
	And	listen'd	to,	than	modest	Truth	is	heard.
	This	Chanticleer,	of	whom	the	story	sings,
	Stood	high	upon	his	toes,	and	clapp'd	his	wings	;
	Then	stretch'd	his	neck,	and	wink'd	with	both	his
	eyes,
	Ambitious,	as	he	sought	th'	Olympic	prize.
	But,	while	he	pain'd	himself	to	raise	his	note,
	False	Reynard	rush'd,	and	caught	him	by	the
	throat.
	Then	on	his	back	he	laid	the	precious	load,
	And	sought	his	wonted	shelter	of	the	wood	;
	Swiftly	he	nmde	his	way,	the	mischief	done,
	Of	all	unheeded,	and	pursued	by	none.
	Alas,	wl-at	stay	is	there	in	human	state,
	Or	who	can	shun	inevitable	fate	?
	The	doom	was	written,	the	decree	was	past,
	Ere	the	foundations	of	the	world	were	cast	!
	In	Aries	though	the	Sun	exalted	stood,
	His	patron-planet	to	procure	his	good;
	Yet	Saturn	was	his	mortal	foe,	and	he,
	In	Libra	rais'd,	oppos'd	the	same	degree:
	The	rays	both	good	and	bad,	of	equal	power,
	Each	thwarting	other	made	a	mingled	hour.
	On	Friday	morn	he	dreamt	this	direful	dream,
	Cross	to	the	worthy	native,	in	his	scheme	!
	Ah	blissful	Venus,	goddess	of	delight,
	How	could'st	thou	suffer	thy	devoted	knight,
	On	thy	own	day	to	fall	by	foe	oppress'd,
	The	wight	of	all	the	world	who	serv'd	thee	best	?
	Who,	true	to	love,	was	all	for	recreation,
	And	minded	not	the	work	of	propagation.
	Gaufride,	who	could'st	so	well	in	rhyme	complain
	The	death	of	Richard	with	an	arrow	slain,
	Why	had	not	I	thy	Muse,	or	thou	my	heart,
	To	sing	this	heavy	dirge	with	equal	art	!
	That	I	like	thee	on	Friday	might	complain	;
	For	on	that	day	was	Cceur	de	Lion	slain.
	Not	louder	cries,	when	Ilium	was	iirflames,
	Were	sent	to	Heaven	by	woful	Trojan	dames,
	When	Pyrrhus	toss'd	on	high	his	burnish'd	blade,
	And	offered	Priam	to	his	father's	shade,
	Than	for	the	cock	the	widow'd	poultry	made.
	Fair	Partlet	first,	when	he	was	borne	from	sight,
	With	sovereign	shrieks	bewail'dher	captive	knight:
	Far	louder	than	the	Carthaginian	wife,
	When	Asdrubal,	her	husband,	lost	his	life,
	When	she	beheld	the	smouldering	flames	ascend,
	And	all	the	Punic	glories	at	an	end	:
	Willing	into	the	fires	she	plung'd	her	head,
	With	greater	ease	than	others	seek	their	bed.
	Not	more	aghast	the	matrons	of	renown,
	..When	tyrant	Nero	burn'd	th'	imperial	town,
	Shriek'd	for	the	dov/nfal	in	a	doleful	cry,
	For	which	their	guiltless	loi'ds	were	doom'd	to	die.
	Now	to	my	story	I	return	again	:
	The	trembling	widow,	and	her	daughters	twain,
	This	woful	cackling	cry	with	horrour	heard,
	Of	those	distracted	damsels	in	the	yard	;
	And,	starting	up,	beheld	the	heavy	sight,
	How	Reynard	to	the	forest	took	his	flight,
	And	cross	his	baok,	as	in	triumphant	scorn,
	The	hope	and	pillar	of	the	house	was	borne.
	"	The	fox,	the	wicked	fox	!"	was	all	the	cry	;
	Out	from	his	house	ran	every	neighbour	nigh	:
	The	vicar	first,	and	after	him	the	ci'ew
	With	forks	and	staves,	the	felon	to	pursue.
	Ran	Coll	our	dog,	and	Talbot	with	the	band,
	And	Malkin,	with	her	distaff	in	her	hand;
	Ran	cow	and	calf,	and	family	of	hogs,
	In	panic	horrour	of	pursuing	dogs	;
	With	many	a	deadly	grunt	and	doleful	squeak
	Poor	swine,	as	if	their	pretty	hearts	would	break.
	The	shouts	of	men,	the	women	in	dismay,
	With	shrieks	augment	the	terrour	of	the	day,
	The	ducks,	that	heard	the	proclamation	cry'd,
	And	fear'd	a	persecution	might	betide,
	Full	twenty	mile	from	town	their	voyage	take,
	Obscure	in	rushes	of	the	liquid	lake.
	The	geese	fly	o'er	the	barn	;	the	bees	in	arms
	Drive	headlong	from	their	waxen	cells	in	swarms.
	Jack	Straw	at	London-stone,	with	all	his	rout,
	Struck	not	the	city	with	so	loud	a	shout	;
	Not	when	with	English	hate	they	did	pursu6
	A	Frenchman,	or	an	unbelieving	Jew	:
	Not	when	the	welkin	rung	with	one	and	all	;
	And	echoes	bounded	back	from	Fox's	hall	:
	Earth	seem'd	to	sink	beneath,	and	Heaven	above
	to	fall.
	With	might	and	main	they	chac'd	the	murderous
	fox,
	With	brazen	trumpets,	and	inflated	box,
	To	kindle	Mars	with	military	sounds,
	Nor	wanted	horns	t'	inspire	sagacious	hounds.
	Bdt	see	how	Fortune	can	confound	the	wise,
	And,	when	they	least	expect	it,	turn	the	dice.


DRYDEN'S	POEMS.
	Attending	long	in	vain,	I	took	the	way,
	Which	through	a	path	but	scarcely	printed	lay	;
	In	narrow	mazes	oft	it	seem'd	to	meet,
	And	look'd	as	lightly	press'd	by	fairy	feet.
	Wandering	1	walk'd	alone,	for	still	methought
	To	some	strange	end	so	sti-ange	a	path	was	wrought	:
	At	last	it	led	me	where	an	arbour	stood,
	The	sacred	receptacle	of	the	wood	:	[green,
	This	place	unmark'd,	though	oft	I	walk'd	the
	In	all	my	progress	I	had	never	seen	:
	And,	seiz'd	at	once	with	wonder	and	delight,
	Gaz'd	all	around	me,	new	to	the	transporting
	sight.
	'Twas	bench'd	with	turf,	and	goodly	to	be	seen,
	The	thick	young	grass	arose	in	fresher	green	:
	The	mound	was	newly	made,	no	sight	could	pass
	Betwixt	the	nice	partitions	of	the	grass;
	The	well-united	sods	so	closely	lay	;
	And	all	around	the	shades	defended	it	from	day	:
	For	sycamores	with	eglantine	were	spread,
	A	hedge	about	the	sides,	a	covering	over	head.
	And	so	the	fragrant	brier	was	wove	between,
	The	sycamore	and	flowers	were	mix'd	with	green,
	That	Nature	seem'd	to	vary	the	delight	;
	And	satisfy'd	at	once	the	smell	and	sight.
	The	master	workman	of	the	bower	was	known
	Through	fairy	lands,	and	built	for	Oberon;
	Who	twining	leaves	with	such	proportion	drew,
	They	rose	by	measure	;	and	by	rule	they	grew	;
	No	mortal	tongue	can	half	the	beauty	tell	:
	For	none	but	hands	divine	could	work	so	well.
	Both	roof	and	sides	were	like	a	parlour	made,
	A	soft	recess,	and	a	cool	summer	shade	;
	The	hedge	was	set	so	thick,	no	foreign	eye
	The	persons	plac'd	within	it	could	espy	:
	But	all	that	pass'd	without	with	ease	was	seen,
	As	if	nor	fence	nor	tree	was	plac'd	between.
	}	Twas	border'd	with	a	field	;	and	some	was	plain
	With	grass,	and	some	was	sow'd	with	rising	grain.
	That	(now	the	dew	with	spangles	deck'd	the
	ground)
	A	sweeter	spot	of	earth	was	never	found.
	I	look'd	and	look'd,	and	still	with	new	delight	;
	Such	joy	my	soul,	such	pleasures	fill'd	my	sight	:
	And	the	fresh	eglantine	exhal'd	a	breath,
	Whose	odours	were	of	power	to	raise	from	death.
	Nor	sullen	discontent,	nor	anxious	care,
	Ev'n	though	brought	thither,	could	inhabit	there	:
	But	thence	they	fled	as	from	their	mortal	foe	;
	For	this	sweet	place	could	only	pleasure	know.
	Thus	as	1	mus'd,	I	cast	aside	my	eye,
	And	saw	a	medlar-tree	was	planted	nigh.
	The	spreading	branches	made	a	goodly	show,
	And	full	of	opening	blooms	was	every	bough	:
	A	goldfinch	there	I	saw	with	gawdy	pride
	Of	painted	plumes,	that	hopp'd	from	side	to	side,
	Still	pecking	as	she	pass'd	;	and	si	ill	she	drew
	The	sweets	from	every	flower,	and	suck'd	the	dew:
	Suffic'd	at	length,	she	warbled	in	her	throat,
	And	tun'd	her	voice	to	many	a	merry	note,
	But	indistinct,	and	neither	sweet	nor	clear,
	Yet	such	as	sooth'd	my	soul,	and	pleas'd	my	ear.
	Her	short	performance	was	no	sooner	try'd,
	When	she	1	sought,	the	nightingale	reply'd	:
	So	sweet,	so	shrill,	so	variously	she	sung,
	That	the	grove	echoed,	and	the	valleys	rung	1	:
	And	1	so	ravish'd	with	her	heavenly	note,
	I	stood	entranc'd,	and	had	no	room	for	thought,
	But,	all	o'er-power'd	with	ecstasy	of	bliss,
	Was	in	a	pleasing	dream	of	Paradise;
	At	lengtn	I	wak'd,	and	looking	round	the	bower,
	Search'd	every	tree,	and	pry'd	on	every	flower,
	If	any-where	by	chance	I	might	espy,
	The	rm-al	poet	of	the	melody	:
	For	still	methought	she	sung	not	far	away:
	At	last	I	found	her	on	a	laurel	spray.
	Close	by	my	side	she	sat,	and	fair	in	sight,
	Full	in	a	line	against	her	opposite;
	Where	stood	with	eglantine	the	laurel	twin'd;
	And	both	their	native	sweets	were	well	eonjoin'd.
	On	the	green	bank	I	sat,	and	listen'd	long
	(Sitting	was	more	convenient	for	the	song):
	Nor	till	her	lay	was	ended	could	1	move,
	But	wish'd	to	dwell	for	ever	in	the	grove.
	Only	methought	the	time	too	swiftly	pass'd,
	And	every	note	I	fear'd	would	be	the	last.
	My	sight,	and	smell,	and	hearing	were	employ	'd,
	And	all	three	senses	in	full	gust	enjoy'd.
	And	what	alone	did	all	the	rest	surpass,
	The	sweet	possession	of	the	fairy	place;
	Single,	and	conscious	to	myself	alone
	Of	pleasures	to	th'	excluded	world	unknown:
	Pleasures	which	no	where	else	were	to	be	found,
	And	all	Elysium	in	a	spot	of	ground.
	Thus	vrhile	1	sat	intent	to	see	and	hear,
	And	drew	perfumes	of	more	than	vital	air,
	All	suddenly	1	heard	th'	approaching	sound
	Of	vocal	music,	on	th'	enchanted	ground	:
	An	host	of	saints	it	seem'd,	so	full	the	quire;
	As	if	the	bless'd	above	did	all	conspire
	To	join	their	voices,	and	neglect	the	lyre.
	At	length	there	issued	from	the	grove	behind
	A	fair	assembly	of	the	femalt	kind.	:
	A	train	less	fair,	as	ancient	fathers	tell,
	Seduc'd	the	sons	of	Heaven	to	rebel.
	1	pass	their	form,	and	every	charming	grace,
	Less	than	an	angel	would	their	worth	debase:
	But	their	attire,	like	liveries	of	a	kind
	All	rich	and	rare,	is	fresh	within	my	mind.
	In	velvet	white	as	snow	the	troop	was	gown'd,
	The	searns	with	sparkling	emeralds	set	around	:
	Their	hoods	and	sleeves	the	same;	and	purfled
	o'er
	AVith	diamonds,	pearls,	and	all	the	shining	store
	Of	eastern	pomp	:	their	long	descending	train,
	With	ruble	s	edg'd,	and	sapphires,	swept	the	plain	:
	High	on	their	heads,	with	jewels	richly	set,
	Each	lady	wore	a	radiant	coronet.
	Beneath	the	circles,	all	the	quire	was	grac'd
	With	ehaplets	green,	on	their	fair	foreheads	plac'd.
	Of	laurel	some,	of	woodbine	many	more;
	And	wreaths	of	agnus	castus	others	bore	:
	These	last,	who	with	those	virgin	crowns	were
	dress'd,
	Appear'd	in	higher	honour	than	the	rest.
	They	danc'd	around	:	but	in	the	midst	was	seen
	A	lady	of	a	more	majestic	mien	;	[queen.
	By	stature	and	by	beauty	mark'd	their	sovereign
	She	in	the	midst	began	with	sober	grace	;
	Her	servant's	eyes	were	fix'd	upon	her	face,
	And,	as	she	mov'd	or	turn'd,	her	motions	view'd,
	Her	measures	kept,	and	step	by	step	pursued.
	Methought	she	trod	the	ground	with	greater	gract,
	With	more	of	godhead	shining	in	her	face	;
	And	as	in	beauty	she	surpass'd	the	quire,
	So,	nobler	than	the	rest,	was	her	attire.
	A	crown	of	ruddy	gold	enclos'd	her	brow,
	Plain	without	pomp,	and	rich	without	a	show	:
	A	branch	of	agnus	castus	in	her	hand
	She	bore	aloft	(her	sceptre	of	command);


THE	FLOWER	AND	THE	LEAF.
	Admirkil,	ador'd	by	all	the	circling	crowd,
	For	wheresoe'er	she	turn'd	her	face,	they	bow'd	:
	And	as	she	danc'd,	a	roundelay	she	sung,
	In	honour	of	the	laurel,	ever	young	:
	She	rais'd	her	voice	on	high,	and	sung	so	clear,
	The	fawns	came	scudding	from	the	groves	to
	And	all	the	bending	forest	lent	an	ear.	[hear	:
	At	every	close	she	made,	th'	attending	throng
	Reply'd,	and	bore	the	burthen	of	the	song	:
	So	just,	so	small,	yet	in	so	sweet	a	note,
	It	seem'd	the	music	melted	in	the	throat.
	Thus	dancing	on,	and	singing	as	they	danc'd,
	They	to	the	middle	of	the	mead	advanc'd,
	Till	round	my	arbour	a	new	ring	they	made,
	And	footed	it	about	the	secret	shade.
	O'erjoy'd	to	see	the	jolly	troop	so	near,
	But	somewhat	aw'd,	I	shook	with	holy	fear	;
	Yet	not	so	much,	but	that	I	noted	well
	Who	did	the	most	in	song	or	dance	excel.
	Not	long	1	had	observ'd,	when	from	afar
	I	heard	a	sudden	symphony	of	war	;
	The	neighing	coursers,	and	the	soldiers	cry,
	And	sounding	trumps	that	seem'd	to	tear	the
	sky:
	I	saw	soon	after	this,	behind	the	grove
	From	whence	the	ladies	did	in	order	move,
	Come	issuing	out	in	arms	a	warrior	train,
	That	like	a	deluge	pour'd	upon	the	plain	:
	On	barbed	steeds	they	rode	in	proud	array,
	Thick	as	the	college	of	the	bees	in	May,
	When	swarming	o'er	the	dusky	fields	they	fly,
	New	to	the	flowers,	and	intercept	the	sky.
	So	fierce	they	drove,	their	coursers	were	so	fleet,
	That	the	turf	trembled	underneath	their	feet.
	To	tell	their	costly	furniture	were	long,
	The	summer's	day	would	end	before	the	song	:
	To	purchase	but	the	tenth	of	all	their	store,
	Would	make	the	mighty	Persian	monarch	poor.
	Yet	what	I	can,	I	will	;	before	the	rest
	The	trumpets	issued,	in	white	mantles	dress'd	:
	A	numerous	troop,	and	all	their	heads	around
	With	chaplets	green	of	cerrial-oak	werecrown'd;
	And	at	each	trumpet	was	a	banner	bound,
	Which,	waving	in	the	wind,	display'd	at	large
	Their	master's	coat	of	arms,	and	knightly	charge
	Broad	were	the	banners,	and	of	snowy	hue,
	A	purer	web	the	silk-worm	never	drew.
	The	chief	about	their	necks	the	scutcheons	wore,
	With	orient	pearls	and	jewels	powder'd	o'er	:
	Broad	were	their	collars	too,	and	every	one
	Was	set	about	with	many	a	costly	stone.
	Next	these	of	kings	at	arms	a	goodly	train
	In	proud	array	came	prancing	o'er	the	plain	:
	Their	cloaks	were	cloth	of	silver	mix'd	with	gold
	And	garlands	green	around	their	temples	roll'd;
	Rich	crowns	were	on	their	royal	scutcheon
	plac'd,
	With	sapphires,	diamonds,	and	with	rubies	grac'd
	And	as	the	trumpets	their	appearance	made,
	So	these	in	habits	were	alike	array'd	;
	But	with	a	pace	more	sober,	and	more	slow	;
	And	twenty,	rank	in	rank,	they	rode	a	row.
	The	pursuivants	came	next,	in	number	more	;
	And	like	the	heralds	each	his	scutcheon	bore:
	Clad	in	white	velvet	all	their	troop	they	led,
	With	each	an	oaken	chaplet	on	his	head.
	Nine	royal	knights	in	equal	rank	succeed,
	Each	warrior	mounted	on	a	fiery	steed	:
	In	golden	armour	glorious	to	behold	;
	The	rivets	of	their	arms	were	naiPd	with	gold.
	Their	surcoats	of	white	ermin	fur	were	made,
	Vith	cloth	of	gold	between,	that	cast	a	glittering
	shade	;
	'he	trappings	of	their	steeds	were	of	the	same	;
	n	he	golden	fringe	ev'n	set	the	ground	on	flame,
	nd	drew	a	precious	trail	:	a	crown	divine
	Of	laurel	did	about	their	temples	twine.
	Three	henchmen	were	for	every	knight	assign'd,
	A.11	in'rich	livery	clad,	and	of	a	kind	:
	(Vhite	velvet,	but	unshorn,	for	cloaks	they	wore,
	And	each	within	his	hand	a	truncheon	bore	:
	The	foremost	held	a	helm	of	rare	device;
	A	prince's	ransom	would	not	pay	the	price.
	The	second	bore	the	buckler	of	his	knight,
	The	third	of	cornel-wood	a	spear	upright,
	leaded	with	piercing	steel,	and	polish'd	bright.
	Like	to	their	lords	their	equipage	was	seen,
	And	all	their	foreheads	crown'd	with	garlandg
	green.	[shield,
	And	after	these	cams,	arm'd	with	spear	and
	An	host	so	great,	as	cover'd	all	the	field,
	And	all	their	foreheads,	like	the	knights	before,
	With	laurels	ever	green	were	shaded	o'er,
	Or	oak,	or	other	leaves	of	lasting	kind,
	Tenacious	of	the	stem,	and	firm	against	the	wind.
	Some	in	their	hands,	beside	the	lance	and	shield,
	The	boughs	of	woodbine	or	of	hawthorn	held,
	Or	branches	for	their	mystic	emblems	took,
	Of	palm,	of	laurel,	or	of	cerrial	oak.
	Thus	marching	to	the	trumpet's	lofty	sound,
	Drawn	in	two	lines	adverse	they	wheel'd
	around,
	And	in	the	middle	meadow	took	their	ground.
	Among	themselves	the	turney	they	divide,
	In	equal	squadrons	rang'd	on	either	side.
	Then	turn'd	their	horses	heads,	and	man	to	man,
	And	steed	to	steed	oppos'd,	the	justs	began.
	They	lightly	set	their	lauces	in	the	rest,
	And,	at	the	sign,	against	each	other	press'd	:
	They	met.	1,	sitting	at	my	ease,	beheld
	The	mix'd	events,	and	fortunes	of	the	field.
	Some	broke	their	spears,	some	tumbled	horse
	and	man,
	And	round	the	field	the	lighten'd	coursers	ran.
	An	hour	and	more,	like	tides,	in	equal	sway
	They	rush'd,	and	won	by	turns,	and	lost	the	day:
	At	length	the	nine	(who	still	together	held)
	Their	fainting	foes	to	shameful	fight	compell'd,
	And	with	resistless	force	o'er-ran	the	field.
	Thus,	to	their	fame,	when	finished	was	the	fight,
	The	victors	from	their	lofty	steeds	alight	:
	Like	them	dismounted	all	the	warlike	train,
	And	two	by	two	proceeded	o'er	the	plain	:
	Till	to	the	fair	assembly	they	advanc'd,
	Who	near	the	secret	arbour	sung	and	danc'd.
	The	ladies	left	their	measures	at	the	sight,
	To	meet	the	chiefs	returning	from	the	fight,
	And	each	with	open	arms	embrac'd	her	chosen
	knight.
	Amid	the	plain	a	spreading	laurel	stood,
	The	grace	and	ornament	of	all	the	wood	:
	That	pleasing	shade	they	sought,	a	soft	retreat
	From	sudden	April	showers,	a	shelter	from	the
	heat:
	Her	leafy	anus	with	such	extent	were	spread,
	So	near	the	clouds	was	her	aspiring	head,
	That	hosts	of	birds,	that	wing	the	liquid	air,
	Perch'd	in	the	boughs,	had	nightly	lodging	there	:
	And	flocks	of	sheep	beneath	the	shade	from	far
	Might	hear	the	rattling	hail,	and	wintery	war,


48
	DRYDEIS'S	POEMS.
	From	Heaven's	inclemency	here	found	retreat,
	Enjoy	'd	the	cool,	and	shunn'd	the	scorching	heat:
	A	hundred	knights	might	there	at	ea^e	abide	;
	And	every	knight	a	lady	by	his	side	:
	The	trunk	itself	such	odours	did	bequeath,
	That	a	Moluccan	breeze	to	these	was	common
	breath.
	The	lords	and	ladies	here,	approaching,	paid
	Their	homage,	with	a	low	obeisance	made	:
	And	seem'd	to	venerate	the	sacred	shade.
	These	rites	perform'd,	their	pleasures	they	pursue,
	With	song	of	love,	and	mix	with	pleasures	new	;
	Around	the	holy	tree	their	dance	they	frame,
	And	every	champion	leads	his	chosen	dame.
	I	cast	my	sight	upon	the	farther	field,
	And	a	fresh	object	of	delight	beheld	:
	For	from	the	region	of	the	west	I	heard
	New	music	sound,	and	a	new	troop	appear'd	j
	Of	knights,	and	ladies	mix'd,	a	jolly	band,
	But	all	on	foot	they	maivh'd,	and	hand	in	hand.
	The	ladies	dress'd	in	rich	symars	were	seen
	Of	Florence	satin,	flower'd	with	white	and
	green,
	And	for	a	shade	betwixt	the	bloomy	gridelin.
	The	borders	of	their	petticoats	below
	Were	guarded	thick	with	rubies	on	a	row	;
	And	every	damsel	wore	upon	her	head
	Of	flowers	a	garland	blended	white	and	red.
	Attir'd	in	mantles	all	the	knights	were	seen,
	That	gratify'd	the	view	with	cheerful	green	:
	Their,	chaplets	of	their	ladies	colours	were,
	Compos'd	of	white	and	red,	to	shade	their	shin
	ing	hair.
	Before	the	merry	troop	the	minstrels	play'd	;
	All	in	their	master's	liveries	were	array'd,
	And	clad	in	green,	and	on	their	temples	wore
	The	chaplets	white	and	red	their	ladies	bore.	'
	Their	instruments	were	various	in	their	kind,
	Some	for	the	bow,	and	some	for	breathing	wind	:
	The	sawtry,	pipe,	and	hautboy's	noisy	band,
	And	the	soft	lute	trembling	1	beneath	the	touching
	hand.
	A	tuft	of	daisies	on	a	flowery	lay
	They	saw,	and	thitherward	they	bent	their	way	;
	To	this	both	knights	and	dames	their	homage
	made,
	And	due	obeisance	to	the	daisy	paid.
	And	then	the	band	of	flutes	began	to	play,
	To	which	a	lady	sung	a	virelay	:
	And	still	at	every	close	she	would	repeat
	The	burthen	of	the	song,	"	The	daisy	is	so	sweet."
	*'	The	daisy	is	so	sweet,"	when	she	begun,
	The	troop	of	knights	and	dames	continued	on.
	The	concert	and	the	voice	so	charm'd	my	ear,
	And	sooth'd	my	soul,	that	it	was	Heaven	to	hear.
	But	soon	their	pleasure	pass'd	:	at	noon	of	day,
	The	Sun	with	sultry	beams	began	to	play	:
	Not	Sirius	shoots	a	fiercer	flame	from	high,
	When	with	his	poisonous	breath	he	blasts	the	sky:
	Then	droop'd	the	fading	flowers	(their	beauty
	fled)
	And	clos'd	their	sickly	eyes,	and	hung	the	head	;
	And,	rivel'd	up	with	heat,	lay	dying	in	their	bed.
	The	ladies	gasp'd,	and	scarcely	could	respire	;
	The	breath	they	drew,	no	longer	air,	but	fire	;
	The	fainty	knights	were	scorch'd	and	knew	net
	where
	To	run	for	shelter,	for	no	shade	was	near	;
	And	after	this	the	gathering	clouds	amain
	Pom	'd	down	a	storm	of	rattling	hail	and	rain	:
	And	lightning	flash'd	betwixt:	the	field,	and
	flowers,
	Burnt	up	before,	were	buried	in	the	showers.
	The	ladies	and	the	knights,	no	shelter	nigh,
	Bare	to	the	weather,	and	the	wintery	sky,
	Were	dropping	wet,	disconsolate,	and	wan,
	And	through	their	thin	array	receiv'd	the	rain	;
	While	those	in	white,	protected	by	the	tree,
	Saw	pass	in	vain	th'	assault,	and	stood	from
	danger	free.
	But	as	compassion	mov'd	their	gentle	minds,
	When	ceas'd	the	storm,	and	silent	were	the	winds,
	Displeas'd	at	what,	not	suffering,	they	had	seen,
	They	went	to	cheer	the	faction	of	the	green	:
	The	queen	in	v/hite	array,	before	her	band,
	Saluting,	took	her	rival	by	the	hand	;
	So	did	the	knights	and	dames,	with	courtly	grace,
	And	with	behaviour	sweet,	their	foes	embrace	:
	Then	thus	the	queen	with	laurel	on	her	brow,
	"	Fair	sister,	I	have	sufier'd	in	your	woe	;
	Nor	shall	be	wanting	aught	within	my	power
	For	your	relief	in	my	refreshing	bower."
	That	uther	answer'd	with	a	lowly	look,
	And	soon	the	gracious	invitation	took	:
	For	ill	at	ease	both	she	and	all	her	train
	The	scorching	Sun	had	borne,	and	beating	rain.
	Like	courtesy	was	us'd	by	all	in	white,	[knight.
	Each	dame	a	dame	receiv'd,	and	every	knight	a
	The	laurel	champions	with	their	swords	invade
	The	neighbouring	forests,	where	the	justs	were
	made,
	And	screw	ood	from	the	i*otten	hedges	took,
	And	seeds	of	latent	fire	from	flints	provoke	:
	A	cheerful	blaze	arose,	and	by	the	fire
	They	warm'd	their	frozen	feet,	and	dry'd	their
	wet	attire.
	Refresh'd	with	heat,	the	ladies	sought	around
	For	virtuous	herbs,	which	gather'd	from	the	(.-round
	They	squeez'd	the	juice,	and	cooling	ointment
	made,	[skins	they	laid	:
	Which	on	their	sun-burnt	cheeks	and	their	chapt
	Then	sought	green	sallads,	which	they	bade	them
	A	sovereign	remedy	for	inward	heat.	[eat,
	The	lady	of	the	leaf	ordain'd	a	feast,
	And	made	the	lady	of	the	flower	her	guest	:
	When	lo,	a	bower	ascended	on	the	plain,	[train.
	With	sudden	seats	ordain'd,	and	large	for	either
	This	bower	was	near	my	pleasant	arbour	plac	d,
	That	I	could	hear	and	see	whatever	pass'd	:
	The	ladies	sat	with	each	a	knight	between,
	Distinguish'd	by	their	colours,	white	and	green	;
	The	vanquished	party	with	the	victors	join'd,
	Nor	wanted	sweet	discourse,	the	banquet	of	thft
	mind.
	Mean	time	the	minstrels	play'd	on	either	side,
	Vain	of	their	art,	and	for	the	mastery	vy'd	:
	The	sweet	contention	lasted	for	an	hour,
	Ami	reach'd	my	secret	arbour	from	the	bower.
	The	Sun	was	set	;	and	Vesper,	to	supply
	His	absent	beams,	had	lighted	tip	the	sky	:
	When	Philomel,	officious	all	the	day
	To	sing	the	service	of	th'	ensuing	May,
	Fled	from	her	laurel	shade,	and	wing'd	her	flight
	Directly	to	the	queen	array'd	in	whitoj
	And,	hopping,	sat	familiar	on	her	hand,
	A	new	musician,	and	increas'd	the	band.
	The	goldfinch,	who,	to	shun	the	scalding	heat,
	Had	chang'd	the	medlar	for	a	safer	seat,
	And,	hid	in	bushes,	'scap'd	the	bitter	shower,
	Now	perch'd	upon	the	lady	of	the	flower	j


THE	FLOWER,	AND	THE	LEAF.
	4-9
	And	either	songster	holditig	out	their	throats,
	And	folding	up	their	wings,	renew'd	their	notes	:
	As	if	all	day,	preluding-	to	the	fight,
	They	only	had	rehears'd,	to	sing	by	night	:
	The	banquet	ended,	and	the	battle	done,
	They	danc'd	by	star-light	and	the	friendly	Moon	:
	And	when	they	were	to	part,	the	laureat	queen
	Supply'd	with	steeds	the	lady	of	the	green,
	Her	and	her	train	conducting	on	the	wa}	r	,
	The	Moon	to	follow,	and	avoid	the	day.
	-This	when	I	saw,	inquisitive	to	kuow
	The	secret	moral	of	the	mystic	show,
	I	started	from	my	shade,	in	hopes	to	find
	Some	nymph	to	satisfy	my	longiftg	mind	:
	And,	as	my	fair	adventure	fell,	I	found
	"A	lady	all	in	white,	with	laurel	crown'd,
	Who	clos'd	the	rear,	and	softly	pac'd	along,
	Repeating	to	herself	the	former	song.
	With	due	respect	my	body	I	inclin'd,
	As	to	some	being	of	superior	kind,
	And	made	my	court	according	to	the	day,
	Wishing	her	queen	and	her	a	happy	May.	'
	"	Great	thanks,	my	daughter,"	with	a	graciousbow,
	She	said	;	and	I,	who	much	deslr'd	to	know
	Of	whence	she	was,	yet	fearful	how	to	break
	My	mind,	adventur'd	humbly	thus	to	speak	:
	"	Madam,	might	I	presume	and	not	oftend,
	So	may	the	stars	and	shining	Moon	attend
	Your	nightly	sports,	as	you	vouchsafe	to	tell
	What	nymphs	they	were	who	mortal	forms	excel,
	And	what	the	knights	who	fought	in	listed	fields
	so	well."
	To	this	the	dame	reply'd	:	"	Fair	daughter,	know,
	That	what	you	saw	was	all	a	fairy	show	:
	And	all	those	airy	shapes	yon	now	behold,
	Were	human	bodies	once,	and	cloth'd	with	earthly
	mold,
	Our	souls,	not	yet	prepar'd	for	upper	light,
	Till	doomsday	wander	in	the	shades	of	night;
	This	only	holiday	of	all	the	year,
	We	privileg'd	in	sunshine	may	appear:
	With	songs	and	dance	we	celebrate	the	day,
	And	with	due	honours	usher	in	the	May.
	At	other	times	we	reign	by	night	alone,
	And	posting	through	the	skies	pursue	the	Moon	:
	But	when	the	morn	arises,	none	are	found	;
	For	cruel	Demogorgon	walks	the	round,
	And	if	he	finds	a	fairy	lag	in	light,
	He	drives	the	wretch	before,	and	lashes	into
	night.
	"	All	courteous	are	by	kind	;	and	ever	proud
	With	friendly	offices	to	help	the	good.
	In	every	land	we	have	a	larger	space
	Than	what	is	known	to	you	of	mortal	race	:
	Where	we	with	green	adorn	our	fairy	bowers,
	And	ev'n	this	grove,	unseen	before,	is	ours.
	Know	farther	;	every	lady	cloth'd	in	white,
	And,	crown'd	with	oak	and	laurel	every	knight,
	Are	servants	to	the	Leaf,	by	liveries	known
	Of	innocence	;	and	I	myself	am	one.
	Saw	you	not	her	so	graceful	to	behold
	In	white	attire,	and	crown'd	with	radiant	gold	?
	The	sovereign	lady	of	our	land	is	she,
	Diana	call'd,	the	queen	of	chastity	:
	And,	for	the	spotless	name	of	maid	she	bears,
	That	agnus	castus	in	her	hand	appears	;
	And	all	her	train,	with	leafy	chaplets	crown'd,
	Were	for	unblam'd	virginity	renown'd	;
	"But	those	the	chief	and	highest	in	command
	Who	bear	those	hdly	braucUss	in	their	hand	:
	The	knights	adorn'd	with	laurel	crowns	are	they,
	Whom	death	nor	danger	never	could	dismay,
	Victorious	names,	who	made	the	world	obey	:
	Who,	while	they	liv'd,	in	deeds	of	arms	excell'd,
	And	after	death	for	deities	were	held.
	But	those,	who	wear	the	woodbine	on	their	brow,
	Were	knights	of	love,	who	never	broke	their	vow;
	Firm	to	their	plighted	faith,	and	ever	free
	From	fears,	and	fickle	chance,	and	jealousy.
	The	lords	and	jladies,	who	the	woodbine	bear,
	As	true	as	Tristram	and	Isotta	were."
	"	But	what	are	those,"	said	I,	"	th'	unconquei'd
	nine,
	Who	crowu'd	with	laurel-wreaths	in	golden	ar
	mour	shine	?
	And	who	the	knights	in	green,	and	what	the	train
	Of	ladies	dress'd	with	daisies	on	the	plain	?
	Why	both	the	bands	in	worship	disagree,
	And	some	adore	the	flower,	and	some	the	tree	?"
	"	Just	is	your	suit,	fair	daughter,"	said	the
	dame	:
	"	Those	laurel'd	chiefs	were	men	of	mighty	fame	;
	Nine	worthies	were	they	call'd	of	different	rites,
	Three	Jews,	three	Pagans,	and	three	Christian
	knights.
	These,	as	you	see,	ride	foremost	in	the	field,
	As	they	the	foremost	rank	of	honour	held,
	And	all	in	deeds	of	chivalry	excelPd	:
	Their	temples	wreath'd	with	leaves,	that	still
	renew	;
	For	deathless	laurel	is	the	victor's	due	:
	Who	bear	the	bows	were	knights	in	Arthur's	reign,
	Twelve	they,	and	twelve	the	peers	of	Charlemain:
	For	hows	the	strength	of	brawny	arms	imply,
	Emblems	of	valour	and	of	victory.
	Behold	an	order	yet	of	newer	date,
	Doubling	their	number,	equal	in	their	state;
	Our	England's	ornament,	the	crown's	defence,
	In	battle	brave,	protectors	of	their	prince	:
	Unchang'd	by	fortune,	to	their	sovereign	trup,
	For	which	their	manly	legs	are	bound	with	blue.
	These,	of	the	garter	call'd,	of	faith	unstain'd,
	In	fighting	fields	the	laurel	have	obtained,
	And	well	repaid	the	honours	which	they	gain'd.
	The	laurel	wreaths	were	first	by	Caesar	worn,
	And	still	they	Cassar's	successors	adorn	:
	One	leaf	of	this	is	immortality,
	And	more	of	worth	than	all	the	world	can	buy."
	"	One	doubt	remains,"	said	I,	"	the	dames	in
	green,
	What	were	their	qualities,	and	who	their	queen	?"
	"	Flora	commands,"	said	she,	"	those	nymphs
	and	knights,
	Who	liv'd	in	slothful	case	and	loose	delights;
	Who	never	acts	of	honour	durst	pursue,
	The	men	inglorious	knights,	the	ladies	all	untrue:
	Who,	nurs'd	in	idleness,	and	train'd	in	courts,
	Pass'd	all	their	precious	hours	in	plays	and	sports,
	Till	Death	behind	came	stalking	on,	unseen,
	And	wither'd	(like	the	storm)	the	freshness	of
	their	green.
	These,	and	their*	mates,	enjoy	their	present	hour,
	And	therefore	pay	their	homage	to	the	Flower.
	But	knights	in	knightlydeeds	should	persevere,
	And	still	continue	what	at	first	they	were;
	Continue,	and	proceed	in	honour's	fair	career.
	No	room	for	cowardice,	or	dull	delay	;
	From	good	to	better	they	should	urge	their	way.
	For	this	with	golden	Spurs	the	chiefs	are	grac'd,
	With	pointed	rowels	a/	A	r'	'	to	mend	their	haste


DRYDEN'S	POEMS.
	For	this	with	lastii	g	leaves	their	brows	are	bound;
	For	laurel	is	the	sign	of	labour	crown'd,
	Which	bears	the	bitter	blast,	nor	shaken	falls	to
	ground	:
	From	winter	winds	it	suffers	no	decay,
	For	ever	fresh	and	fair,	and	every	month	is	May.
	Ev'n	when	the	vital	sap	retreats	below,
	Ev'n	when	the	hoary	head	is	hid	in	snow	;
	The	life	is	in	the	leaf,	and	still	between
	The	fits	of	falling	snow	appears	the	streaky	green.
	Not	so	the	flower,	which	lasts	for	little	space,
	A	short-liv'd	good,	and	an	uncertain	grace;
	This	way	and	that	the	feeble	stem	is	driven,
	Weak	to	sustainthe	storms	and	injuries	of	Heaven.
	Propp'd	by	the	spring,	it	lifts	aloft	the	head,
	But	of	a	sickly	beauty,	soon	to	shed	;
	In	summer	living,	and	in	winter	dead.
	For	things	of	tender	kind,	for	pleasure	made,
	Shoot	up	with	swift	increase,	and	sudden	are
	decay'd."
	With	humble	words,	the	wisest	1	could	frame,
	And	proferr'd	service,	I	repaid	the	dame	;
	That,	of	her	grace,	she	gave	her	maid	to	know
	The	secret	meaning	of	this	moral	show.
	And	she,	to	prove	what	profit	I	had	made
	Of	mystic	truth,	in	fables	first	convey'd,
	Demanded,	till	the	next	returning	May,
	Whether	the	Leaf	or	Flower	I	would	obey	?
	I	chose	the	leaf;	she	smil'd	with	sober	chear,
	And	wish'd	me	fair	adventure	for	the	year,
	And	gave	me	charms	and	sigils,	for	defence
	Against	ill	tongues	that	scandal	innoeenc	:
	"	But	I,"	said	she,	"	my	fellows	must	pursue,
	Already	past	the	plain,	and	out	of	view."
	We	parted	thus	;	I	homeward	sped	my	way,
	Bewilder'd	in	the	wood	till	dawn	of	day	:	[May.
	And	met	the	merry	crew	who	danc'd	about	the
	Then,	late	refresh'd	with	sleep,	1	rose	to	write
	The	visionary	vigils	of	the	night:
	Blush,	as	thoumay'st,	my	Little	Book,	wit^h	shame,
	Nor	hope	with	homely	verse	to	purchase	fame	;
	For	such	thy	Maker	chose	:	and	so	design'd
	Thy	simple	style	to	suit	thy	lowly	kind.
	THE	WIFE	OF	BATH,
	HER	TALE.
	IN	days	of	old,	when	Arthur	fill'd	the	throne,
	Whose	acts	and	fame	to	foreign	lands	were	blown;
	The	king	of	elfs	and	little	fairy	queen
	Gambol'd	on	heaths,	and	danc'd	on	every	green	;
	And	wiore	the	jolly	troop	had	led	the	round,
	The	grass	unbidden	rose,	and	mark'd	the	ground	:
	Nor	darkling	did	they	glance,	the	silver	light
	Of	Phoebe	serv'd	to	guide	their	steps	aright,
	And,	with	their	tripping	pleas'd,	prolong	the
	night.
	Her	beams	they	follow'd,	where	at	full	she	play'd,
	Nor	longer	than	she	shed	her	horns	they	stay'd,
	From	thence	with	airy	flight	to	foreign	lands
	convey'd.
	Above	the	rest	our	Britain	held	they	dear,
	More	solemnly	they	kept	their	sabbaths	here,
	And	made	more	spacious	rings,	and	revel'd	half
	the	year.
	.	I	speak	of	ancient	times,	for	now	the	swain
	Returning	late	may	pass	the	woods	in	vain,
	And	never	hope	to	se?	the	nightly	train	:
	In	vain	the	dairy	now	with	mint	is	dress'd,
	The	dairy-maid	expects	no	fairy	guest
	To	skim	the	bowls,	and	after	pay	the	feast.
	She	sighs,	and	shakes	her	empty	shoes	in	vain,
	No	silver	penny	to	reward	her	pain	:
	For	priests,	with	prayers	and	other	goodly	geer,
	Have	made	the	merry	goblins	disappear	;
	And	where	they	play'd	their	merry	pranks	before.
	Have	sprinkled	holy	water	on	the	floor	:
	And	friars	that	through	the	wealthy	regions	run,
	Thick	as	the	motes	that	twinkle	in	the	sun,
	Resort	to	farmers	rich,	and	bless	their	halls,
	And	exorcise	the	beds,	and	cross	the	walls	:
	This	makes	the	fairy	quires	forsake	the	place,
	When	once	'tis	hallow'd	with	the	rites	of	grace	:
	But	in	the	walks	where	wicked	elves	have	been,
	The	learning	of	the	parish	now	is	seen,
	The	midnight	parson	posting	o'er	the	green,
	With	gown	tuck'd	up,	to	wakes,	for	Sunday
	next;
	With	humming	ale	encouraging	his	text	;
	Nor	wants	the	holy	leer	to	country-girl	betwixt.
	From	fiends	and	imps	he	sets	the	village	free,
	There	haunts	not	any	incubus	but	he.
	The	maids	and	women	need	no	danger	fear
	To	walk	by	night,	and	sanctity	so	near	:
	For	by	some	haycock,	or	some	shady	thorn.
	He	bids	his	beads	both	even	song	and	morn.
	It	so	befel	in	this	king	Arthur's	reign,
	A	lusty	knight	was	pricking	o'er	the	plain;
	A	bachelor	he	was,	and	of	the	courtly	train.
	It	happen'd,	as	he	rode,	a	damsel	gay
	In	russet	robes	to	market	took	her	way	:
	Soon	on	the	girl	he	cast	an	amorous	eye,
	So	straight	she	walk'd,	and	on	her	pasterns	high	:
	If	seeing	her	behind	he	lik'd	her	pace,
	Now	turning	short,	he	better	likes	her	face.
	He	lights	in	haste,	and,	full	of	youthful	fire,
	By	force	accomplish'd	his	obscene	desire	:
	This	done,	away	he	rode,	not	unespy'd,
	For	swarming	at	his	back	the	country	cry'd	:
	And	once	in	view	they	never	lost	the	sight,
	But	seiz'd,	and	pinion'd	brought	to	court	the
	knight.
	Then	courts	of	kings	were	held	in	high	renown,
	Ere	made	the	common	brothels	of	the	town	:
	There,	virgins	honourable	vows	received,
	But	chaste	as	maids	in	monasteries	liv'd	:
	The	king	himself,	to	nuptial	ties	a	slave,
	No	bad	example	to	his	poets	gave	:
	And	they,	not	bad,	but	in	a	vicious	age,
	Had	not,	to	please	the	prince,	debauch'd	the	sta?e.
	Now	what	should	Arthur	do?	He	lov'd	the
	knight,'
	But	sovereign	monarchs	ai-e	the	source	of	right	:
	Mov'd	by	the	damsel's	tears	and	common	cry,
	He	doom'd	the	brutal	ravisher	to	die.
	But	fair	Geneura	rose	in	his	defence,
	And	pray'd	so	hard	for	mercy	from	the	prince,
	That	to	his	queen	the	king	th'	offender	gave,
	And	left	it	in	her	power	to	kill	or	save*	:
	This	gracious	act	the	ladies	all	approve,
	Who	thought	it	much	a	man	should	die	for	love;
	And	with	their	mistress	joiri'd	in	close	debate
	(Covering	their	kindness	with	dissembled	hate)
	If	not	to	free	him,	to	prolong	his	fate.
	At	last	agreed	they	call'd	him	by	consent
	Before	the	queen	and	female	parliament.
	And	the	fair	speaker	rising	from	the	chair,
	Did	thus	the	judgment	of	the	house	declare,


THE	WIFE	OF	BATH'S	TALE.
	"	Sir	knight,	though	I	have	ask'd	thy	life,	yet
	still
	Thy	destiny	depends	upon	my	will	:
	Nor	hast	thou	other	surety	than	the	grace
	Not	due	to	thee	from	our	offended	race.
	But	as	our	kind	is	of	a	softer	mold,
	And	cannot	blood	without	a	sigh	behold,
	J	grant	thee	life	;	reserving	still	the	power
	To	take	the	forfeit	when	1	see	my	hour	:
	Unless	thy	answer	to	my	next	demand
	Shall	set	thee	free	from	our	aveng[rtg	hand.
	The	question,	whose	solution	I	require,
	Is,	What	the	sex	of	women	most	desire?
	In	this	dispute	thy	judges	are	at	strife	;
	Beware	;	for	on	thy	wit	depends	thy	life.
	Yet	(lest,	surpris'd,	unknowing	what	to	say,
	Thou	damn	thyself)we	give	thee	farther	day	:
	A	year	is	thine	to	wander	at	thy	will	;
	And	learn	from	others,	if	thou	want'st	the	skill.
	But,	not	to	hold	our	proffer	turn'd	in	scorn,
	Good	sureties	will	we	have	for	thy	return	;
	That	at	the	time	prefix'd	thou	shalt	obey,
	And	at	thy	pledge's	peril	keep	thy	day."
	Woe	was	the	knight	at	this	severe	command	;
	But	well	he	knew	'twas	bootless	to	withstand	:
	The	terms	accepted	as	the	fair	ordain,
	He	put	in	bail	for	his	return	again,
	And	promis'd	answer	at	the	day	assign'd,
	The	best,	with	Heaven's	assistance,	he	could	find.
	His	leave	thus	taken,	on	his	way	he	went
	With	heavy	heart,	and	full	of	discontent,
	Misdoubting	much,	and	fearful	of	th'	event.
	'Twas	hard	the	truth	of	such	a	point	to	find,
	As	was	not	yet	agreed	among	the	kind.
	Thus	on	he	went	;	still	anxious	more	and	more,
	Ask'd	all	he	met,	and	knock'd	at	every	door;
	Enquir'd	of	men;	but	made	his	chief	request
	To	learn	from	women	what	they	lov'd	the	best.
	They	answer'd	each	according	to	her	mind
	To	please	herself,	not	all	the	female	kind.
	One	was	for	wealth,	another	was	for	place	:
	Crones,	old	and	ugly,	wish'd	a	better	face.
	The	widow's	wish	was	oftentimes	to	wed	;
	The	wanton	maids	were	all	for	sport	a-bed.
	Some	said	the	sexwere	pleas'd	with	handsome	lies,
	And	some	gross	flattery	lov'd	without	disguise	:
	"	Truth	is,"	says	one,	"	he	seldom	fails	to	win
	Who	flatters	well	;	for	that's	our	darling	sin	;
	But	long	attendance,	and	a	duteous	mind,
	Will	work	ev'n	with	the	wisest	of	the	kind."
	One	thought	the	sex's	prime	felicity
	Was	from	the	bonds	of	wedlock	to	be	free	:
	Their	pleasures,	hours,	and	actions,	all	their	own,
	And	uncontrol'd	to	give	account	to	none.
	Some	wish	a	husband-fool	;	but	such	are	curst,
	For	fools	perverse	of	husbands	are	the	worst:
	All	women	would	be	counted	chaste	and	wise,
	Nor	should	our	spouses	see,	but	with	our	eyes	;
	For	fools	will	prate;	and	though	they	want	the	wit
	To	find	close	faults,	yet	open	blots	will	hit	:
	Though	better	for	their	ease	to	hold	their	tongue,
	For	woman-kind	was	never	in	the	wrong.
	So	noise	ensues,	and	quarrels	last	for	life	;
	The	wife	abhors	the	fool,	the	fool	the	wife.
	And	some	men	say	that	great	delight	have	we,
	To	be	for	truth	extol	I'd,	'and	secrecy	:
	And	constant	in	one	purpose	still	to	dwell	;
	And	not	our	husbands	counsels	to	reveal.
	But	that's	a	fable	:	for	our	sex	is	frail,
	Inventing	rather	than	not	tell	a	tale.
	Like	leaky	sieves	no	secrets	we	can	hold	:
	Witness	the	famous	tale	that	Ovid	told.
	"	Midas	the	king,	as	in	his	book	appears,
	By	Phoebus	was	endow'd	with	ass's	ears,
	Which	under	his	long	locks	he	well	conceal'd,
	As	monarchs	vices	must	not	be	reveal'd,
	For	fear	the	people	have	them	in	the	wind,
	Who	long	ago	were	neither	dumb	nor	blind	:
	Nor	apt	to	think	from	Heaven	their	title	springs,
	Since	Jove	and	Mars	left	off	begetting	kings.
	This	Midas	knew	:	and	durst	communicate
	To	none	but	to	his	wife	his	ears	of	state	:
	One	must	be	trusted,	and	he	thought	her	fit,
	As	passing	prudent,	and	a	parlous	wit.
	To	this	sagacious	confessor	he	went,
	Arid	told	her	what	a	gift	the	gods	had	sent	:
	But	told	it	under	matrimonial	seal,
	With	strict	injunction	never	to	reveal.
	The	secret	heard,	she	plighted	him	her	troth,
	(And	sacred	sure	is	every	woman's	oath)
	The	royal	malady	should	rest	unknown,
	Both	for	her	husband's	honour	and	her	own;
	But	ne'ertheless	she	pin'd	with	discontent;
	The	counsel	rumbled	till	it	found	a	vent.
	The	thing	she	knew	she	was	oblig'd	to	hide;
	By	interest	and	by	oath	the	wife	was	ty'd	;
	But	if	she	told	it	not,	the	woman	dy'd.
	Loth	to	betray	a	husband	and	a	prince,
	But	she	must	burst,	or	blab;	and	no	pretence
	Of	honour	ty'd	her	tongue	from	self-defence.
	A	marshy	ground	cornmodiously	was	near,
	Thither	she	ran,	and	held	her	breath	for	fear,
	Lest	if	a	word	she	spoke	of	any	thing,
	That	word	might	be	the	secret	of	the	king.
	Thus	full	of	counsel	to	the-fen	she	went,
	Grip'd	all	the	way,	and	longing	for	a	vent	;
	Arriv'd,	by	pure	necessity	compell'd,
	On	her	majestic	marrow-bones	she	kneel'd	:
	Then	to	the	water's	brink	she	laid	her	head,
	And,	as	a	bittour	bumps	within	a	reed,
	'	To	thee	alone,	O	Lake,'	she	said,	'	I	tell,
	{And,	as	thy	queen,	command	thee	to	con
	ceal)	:
	Beneath	his	locks	the	king	my	husband	wears
	A	goodly	royal	yair	of	ass's	ears.
	Now	I	have	eas'd	my	bosom	of	the	pain,
	Till	the	next	longing	fit	return	again.'
	"	Thus	through	a	woman	was	the	secret	known	;
	Tell	us,	and	in	effect	you	tell	the	town.	.
	But	to	my	tale	:	The	knight	with	heavy	cheer,
	Wandering	in	vain,	had	now	consum'd	the	year	:
	One	day	was	only	left	to	solve	the	doubt,
	Yet	knew	no	more	than	when	he	first	set	out.
	But	home	he	must,	and,	as	th'	award	had	been,
	Yield	up	his	body	captive	to	the	queen.
	In	this	despairing	state	he	haptto	ride,
	As	Fortune	led	him,	by	a	forest	side	:
	Lonely	the	vale,	and	full	of	horrour	stood,
	Brown	with	the	shade	of	a	religious	wood	:
	When	full	before	him	at	the	noon	of	night,
	(The	Moon	was	up,	and	shot	a	gleamy	light)
	He	saw	a	quire	of	ladies	in	a	round,
	That	featly	footing	seem'd	to	skim	the	ground	:
	Thus	dancing	hand	in	hand,	so	light	they	were,
	He	knew	not	where	they	trod,	on	earth	or	air.
	At	speed	he	drove,	and	came	a	sudden	guest,
	In	hope	where	many	women	were,	at	least,
	Some	one	by	chance	might	answer	his	request.
	But	faster	than	his	horse	the	ladies	flew,
	And	in	a	trice	were	vanish'd	out	of	vi^w.


DRYDEN	;	S	POEMS.
	52	'
	"	One	only	hag	remain'd	:	but	fouler	far
	Than	grandame	apes	in	Indian	forests	are	;
	Against	a	wither'd	oak	she	lean'd	her	weight,
	Propp'd	on	her	trusty	staff,	not	half	upright,
	And	dropp'd	an	aukward	court'sy	to	the	knight.
	Then	said,	'	What	makes	you,	sir,	so	late	abroad
	Without	a	guide,	and	this	no	beaten	road	?
	Or	want	you	aught	that	here	you	hope	to	find,
	Or	travel	for	some	trouble	in	your	mind	?
	The	last	1	guess	;	and	if	I	read	aright,
	Those	of	our	sex	are	bound	to	serve	a	knight;
	Perhaps	good	counsel	may	your	grief	assuage,
	Then	tell	your	pain;	for	wisdom	is	in	age.'
	"	To	this	the	knight:	Good	mother,	would'
	you	know
	The	secret	cause	and	spring	of	all	my	woe	?
	My	life	must	with	to-morrow's	light	expire,
	Unless	I	tell	what	women	most	desire.
	Now	could	you	help	me	attnis	hard	essay,
	Or	for	your	inborn	goodness,	or	for	pay	;
	Yours	is	my	life,	redeem'd	by	your	advice,
	Ask	what	you	please,	and	1	will	pay	the	price:
	The	proudest	kerchief	of	the	court	shall	rest
	Well	satisfy'd	of	what	they	love	the	best'
	*	Plight	me	thy	faith,'	quoth	she,	'	that	what	I	ask,
	Thy	danger	over,	and	perform'd	thy	task,
	That	thou	shalt	give	for	hire	of	thy	demand	;
	Here	take	thy	oath,	and	seal	it	on	my	hand	;
	1	warrant	thee,	on	peril	of	my	life,	[wife.'
	Thy	words	shall	please	both	widow,	maid,	and
	"	More	words	there	needed	not	to	rmrve	the
	To	take	her	offer,	and	his	truth	to	plight,	[knight,
	With	that	she	spread	a	mantle	on	the	ground,
	And,	first	inquiring	whither	he	was	bound,
	Bade	him	not	fear,	though	long	and	rough	the	way,
	At	court	he	should	arrive	ere	break	of	day	;
	His	horse	should	find	the	way	without	a	guide.
	She	said	:	with	fury	they	began	to	ride,
	He	on	the	midst,	the	beldam	at	his	side.
	The	horse,	what	devil	drove	I	cannot	tell,
	But	only	this,	they	sped	their	journey	well	r
	And	all	the	way	the	crone	inform'd	the	knight,
	How	he	should	answer	the	demand	aright.
	"	To	court	they	came	;	the	news	was	quickly
	Of	his	returning	to	redeem	his	head.	[spread
	The	female	senate	was	assembled	soon,
	With	all	the	mob	of	women	of	the	town	:
	The	queen	sate	lord	chief	justice	of	the	hall,
	And	bade	th,e	crier	cite	the	criminal.
	The	knight	appear'd	;	and	silence	they	proclaim	:
	Tlien	first	the	culprit	answer'd	to	his	name	:
	And,	after	forms	of	law,	was	last	requir'd
	To	name	the	thing	that	women	most	desir'd.
	"	Th'	offender,	taught	his	lesson	by	the	way,
	And	by	his	counsel	order'd	what	to	say,
	Thus	bold	began	:	'	My	lady	liege,'	said	he,
	'	What	all	your	sex	desire	is	sovereignty.
	The	wife	affects	her	husband	to	command:
	All	must	be	hers,	both	money,	house,	and	land.
	The	maids	are	mistresses	ev'n	in	their	name;
	And	of	their	servants	full	dominion	claim.
	This,	at	the	peril	of	my	head,	I	say,
	A	blunt	p]	r	'n	truth,	the	sex	aspires	to	sway,
	You	to	rule	all,	while	we,	like	slaves,	obey.'
	There	was	not	one,	or	widow;	maid,	or	wife,
	But	said	the	knight	had	well	deserv'd	his	life.
	Ev'n	fair	Geneura,	with	a	blush,	confess'd
	The	man	had	found	what	women	love	the	best.
	"	Up	starts	the	beldam,	who	was	there	unseen:
	And,	rererence	made,	accosted	thus	the	queen.
	My	liege,'	said	she,	'	before	the	court	arise,
	May	I,	poor	wretch,	find	favour	in	your	eyes,
	To	grant	my	just	request	:	'twas	I	who	taught
	The"	knight	this	answer,	and	inspir'd	his	thought.
	None	but	a	woman	could	a	man	direct
	To	tell	us	women,	what	we	most	affect.
	But	first	I	swore	him	on	his	knightly	troth,
	(And	here	demand	performance	of	his	oath)
	To	grant	the	boon	that	next	I	should	desire	j
	He	gave	his	faith,	and	I	expect	my	hire:
	My	promise	is	fulfill'd	:	I	sav'd	his	life,
	And	claim	his	debt,	to	take	me	for	his	wife.'
	The	knight	was	ask'd,	nor	could	his	oath	deny,
	But	hop'd	they	would	not	force	him	to	comply.
	The	women,	who	would	rather	wrest	the	laws,
	Than	let	a	sister-plaintiff	lose	the	cause,
	(As	judges	on	the	bench	more	gracious	are,
	And	more	attent,	to	brothers	of	the	bar)
	Cry'd	one	and	all,	the	suppliant	should	have	right,
	And	to	the	grandame	hag	adjudg'd	the	knight.
	"	In	vain	he	sigh'd,	and	oft	with	tears	desir'd,
	Some	reasonable	suit	might	be	requir'd.
	But	still	the	crone	was	constant	to	her	note	:
	The	more	he	spoke,	the	more	she	stretch'd	her
	In	vain	he	proffer'd	all	his	goods,	to	save	[throat.
	His	body	destin'd	to	that	living	grave.
	The	liquorish	hag	rejects	the	pelf	with	scorn;
	And	nothing	but	the	man	would	serve	her	turn.
	'	Not	all	the	wealth	of	eastern	kings,'	said	she,
	'	Have	power	to	part	my	plighted	love	and	me	:
	And,	old	and	ugly	as	I	am,	and	poor,
	Yet	never	will	I	break	the	faith	I	swore	;
	For	mine	thou	art	by	promise,	during	life,
	And	1	thy	loving	and	obedient	wife.'
	"	'	My	love	!	nay	rather	my	damnation	thou/
	Said	he	:	'	nor	am	I	bound	to	keep	my	vow	;
	The	fiend	thy	sire	hath	sent	thee	from	below,
	Else	how	could'st	thou	my	secret	sorrows	know	?
	Avant,	old	witch,	for	I	renounce	thy	bed	:
	The	queen	may	take	the	forfeit	of	my	head,
	Ere	any	of	my	race	so	foul	a	crone	shall	wed.'
	Both	heard,	the	judge	pronounc'd	against	the
	knight	;
	So	was	he	marry	'd	in	his	OAVH	despite:
	And	all	day	after	hid	him	as	an	owl,
	Not	able	to	sustain	a	sight	so	foul.
	Perhaps	the	reader	thinks	1	do	him	wrong,
	To	pass	the	marriage	feast	and	nuptial	song.:
	Mirth	there	was	none,	the	man	was	a-la-mort,
	And	little	courage	had	to	make	his	court.
	To	bed	they	went,	the	bridegroom	and	the	bride	:
	Was	never	such	an	ill-pair'd	couple	ty'd	:
	Restless	he	toss'd,	and	tumbled	to	and	fro,
	And	roll'd	and	wrisgled	further	off	for	woe.
	The	good	old	wife	lay	smiling	by	his	side,
	And	caught	him	in	her	quivering	arms,	and	cry''	1,
	'	When	you	my	ravish'd	predecessor	saw,
	You	were	not	then	become	this	man	of	straw	;
	Had	you	been	such,	you	might	have	'scap'd	the
	law.
	Is	this	the	custom	of	king	Arthur's	court	?
	Are	all	round-table	knights	of	such	a	sort	?
	Remember	I	am	she	who	sav'd	your	life,
	Your	loving,	lawful,	and	complying	wife	:
	Not	thus	you	swore	in	your	unhappy	hour,
	Nor	I	for	this	return	employ'd	my	power.
	In	time	of	need,	I	was	your	faithful	friend	;
	Nor	did	I	since,	nor	ever	will,	offend.
	Believe	me,	my	lov'd	lord,	'tis	much	unkind	5
	What	Fury	has	possess'd	your	alter'd	isind?


DRYDEN'S	POEMS.
	At	length,	as	public	decency	requir'd,
	And	ail	his	vassals	eagerly	desir'd,
	With	mind	averse,	he	rather	underwent
	His	people's	will,	than	gave	his	own	consent.
	So	was	she	torn,	as	from	a	lover's	side,
	And	made	almost	in	his	despite	a	bride.
	Short	were	her	marriage	joys	;	for	in	the	prime
	Of	youth,	her	lord	expir'd	before	his	time	j
	And	to	her	father's	court	in	little	space
	Hestor'd	anew,	she	held	a	higher	place	;
	More	lov'd,	and	more	exalted	into	grace.
	This	princess,	fresh	and	young,	and	fair	and	wise,
	The	worship'd	idol	of	her	father's	eyes,
	Did	all	her	sex	in	every	grace	exceed,
	And	had	more	witbeside	than	womenneed.	[mind,
	Youth,	health,	and	ease,	and	most	an	amorous
	To	second	nuptials	had	her	thoughts	inclin'd	r
	And	former	joys	had	left	a	secret	sting	behind.
	But,	prodigal	in	every	other	grant,
	Her	sire	left	unsupply'd	her	only	want	;
	And	she,	betwixt	her	modesty	and	pride,
	Her	wishes,	which	she	could	not	help,	would	hide.
	Resolv'd	at	last	to	lose	no	longer	time,
	And	yet	to	please	herself	without	a	crime,
	She	cast	her	eyes	around	the	court,	to	find
	A	worthy	subject	suiting	to	her	mind,
	To	him	in	holy	nuptials	to	be	ty'd,
	A	seeming	widow,	and	a	secret	bride.
	Among	the	train	of	courtiers,	one	she	found
	With	all	the	gifts	of	bounteous	Nature	crown'd,
	Of	gentle	blood	;	but	one	whose	niggard	Fate
	Had	set	him	far	below	her	high	estate	;
	Guiscard	his	name	was	call'd,	of	blooming	age,
	Now	squire	to	Tancred,	and	before	his	page	:
	To	him,	the	choice	of	all	the	shining	crowd,
	Her	heart	the	noble	Sigismouda	vow'd.
	Yet	hitherto	she	kept	her	love	conceal'd,
	And	with	those	graces	every	day	beheld
	The	graceful	youth	;	and	every	day	increas'd
	The	raging	fires	that	burn'cl	within	her	breast	;
	Some	secret	charm	did	all	her	acts	attend,
	.And	what	his	fortune	wanted,	hers	could	mend	;
	Till,	as	the	fire	will	force	its	outward	way,
	Or,	in	the	prison	pent,	consume	the	prey	;
	So	long	her	earnest	eyes	on	his	were	set,
	At	length	their	twisted	rays	together	met	;
	And	he,	surpris'd	with	humble	joy,	survey'd
	One	sweet	regard,	shot	by	the	royal	maid	:
	Not	well	assur'd,	while	doubtful	hopes	he	nurs'd,
	A	second	glance	came	gliding	like	the	first;
	And	he,	who	saw	the	sharpness	of	the	dart,
	Without	defence	receiv'd	it	in	his	heart.
	In	public,	though	their	passion	wanted	speech,
	Yet	mutual	looks	interpreted	for	each;
	Time,	ways,	and	means	of	meeting	were	deny'd	;
	But	all	those	wants	ingenious	Love	supply'd.
	Th'	inventive	god,	who	never	fails	his	part,
	Inspires	the	wit,	when	once	he	warms	the	heart.
	When	Guiscard	next	was	in	the	circle	seen,
	Where	Sigismonda	held	the	place	of	queen,
	A	hollow	cane	within	her	hand	she	brought,
	Bu	n	the	concave	had	enclos'd	a	note	;
	With	this	she	seem'd	to	play,	and,	as	in	sport,
	Toss'd	to	her	love,	in	presence	of	the	court	;
	"	Take	it,"	she	said;	"	and	when	your	needs	require,
	This	little	brand	will	serve	to	light	your	fire."
	He	took	it	with	a	bow,	and	soon~divin'd
	The	seeming	toy	was	not	for	nought	design'd	:
	But	when	retir'd,	so	long	with	curious	eyes
	He	view'd	his	present,	that	he	found	the	prize.
	Much	was	in	little	writ	;	and	all	convey'd
	With	cautious	care,	for	fear	to	be	betray	'd
	By	some	false	confident,	or	favouritq	maid.
	The	time,	the	place,	the	manner	how	to	meet,
	Were	all	in	punctual	order	plainly	writ:
	But,	since	a	trust	must	be,	she	thought	it	best
	To	put	it	out	of	laymen's	power	at	least	;
	And	for	their	solemn	vows	prepar'd	a	priest.
	Guiscard	(her	secret	purpose	understood)
	With	joy	prepar'd	to	meet	the	coming	good	j
	Nor	pains	nor	danger	was	resolv'd	to	spare,
	But	use	the	means	appointed	by	the	fair.
	Next	the	proud	palace	of	Salerno	stood
	A	mount	of	rough	ascent,	and	thick	with	wood.
	Through	this	a	cave	was	dug	with	vast	expense	:
	The	work	it	seem'd	of	some	suspicious	prince,
	Who,	when	abusing	power	with	lawless	might,
	From	public	justice	would	secure	his	flight.
	The	passage	made	by	many	a	winding	way,
	Reach'd	ev'n	the	room	in	which	the	tyrant	lay.
	Fit	for	his	purpose,	on	a	lower	floor,
	He	lodg'd,	whose	issue	was	an	iron	door;
	From	whence,	by	stairs	descending	to	the	ground,
	In	the	blind	grot	a	safe	retreat	he	found.
	Its	outlet	ended	in	a	brake	o'ergrown	[known,
	With	brambles,	choak'd	by	time,	and	now	un-
	A	rift	there	was,	which	from	the	mountain's	height
	Convey'd	a	glimmering	and	malignant	light,
	A	breathing-place	to	draw	the	damps	away,
	A	twilight	of	an	intercepted	day.
	The	tyrant's	den,	whose	use,	though	lost	to	fame,
	Was	now	th'	apartment	of	the	royal	dame	j
	The	cavern	only	to	her	father	known,
	By	him	was	to	his	darling	daughter	shown.
	Neglected	long	she	let	the	secret	rest,
	Till	Loverecall'd	it	to	her	labouring	breast,
	And	hiuted	as	the	way	by	Heaven	design'd
	The	teacher,	by	the	means	he	taught,	to	blind.
	What	will	not	women	do,	when	need	inspires
	Their	wit,	or	love	their	inclination	fires!
	Though	jealousy	of	state	th'	invention	found,
	Yet	love	refin'd	upon	the	former	ground.
	That	way,	the	tyrant	had	reserv'd,	to	fly	[nigh.
	Pursuing	heat,	now	serv'd	to	bring	two	lovers
	The	dame,	who	long	in	vain	had	kept	the	key,
	Bold	by	desire,	expior'd	the	secret	way;
	Now	try'd	the	stairs,	and,	wading	through	the
	night,
	Search'd	all	the	deep	recess,	and	issued	into	light.
	All	this	her	letter	had	so	well	explain'd,
	Th'	instructed	youth	might	compass	what	re-
	main'd;
	The	cavern's	mouth	atone	was	hard	to	find,
	Because	the	path,	disus'd,	was	out	of	mind	:
	But	in	what	quarter	of	the	copse	it	lay,
	His	eye	by	certain	level	could	survey	:
	Yet	(for	the	wood	perplex'd	with	thorns	he	knew)
	A	frock	of	leather	o'er	his	limbs	he	drew	;
	And,	thus	provided,	search'd	the	brake	around,
	Till	the	choak'd	entry	of	the	cave	he	found.
	Thus,	all	prepar'd,	"the	promis'd	hour	arriv'd
	So	long	expected,	and	so	well	contriv'd	:
	With	Love	to	friend,	th'	impatient	lover	went,
	Fenc'd	from	the	thorns,	and	trod	the	deep	descent.
	The	conscious	priest,	who	was	suborn'd	before,
	Stood	ready	posted	at	the	postern	door;
	The	maids	in	distant	rooms	were	sent	to	rest,
	And	nothing	wanted	but	th'	invited	guest.
	He	came,	and	knocking	thrice	without	delay,
	The	longing	lady	heard,	and	turn'd	the	key;


SIGISMONDA	AND	GUISCARDO.
	At	once	invaded	him	with	all	her	charms,
	And	the	first	step	he	made	was	in	her	arms	:
	The	leathern	outside,	boisterous	as	it	was,
	Gave	way,	and	bent	beneath	her	strict	embrace	:
	On	either	side	the	kisses	flew	so	thick,
	That	neither	he	nor	she	had	breath	to	speak.
	The	holy	man,	amaz'd	at	what	he	saw,
	Made	haste	to	sanctify	the	bliss	by	law;
	And	rnutter'd	fast	the	matrimony	o'er,
	For	fear	committed	sin	should	get	before.
	His	work	perform'd,	he	left	the	pair	alone,
	Because	he	knew	he	could	not	go	too	soon	;
	His	presence	odious,	when	his	task	was	done.
	What	thoughts	he	had	beseems	me	not	to	say	;
	Though	some	surmise	he	went	to	fast	and	pray,
	And	needed	both	to	drive	the	tempting	thoughts
	away.
	The	foe	once	gone,	they	took	their	full	de
	light:
	'Twas	restless	rage,	and	tempest	all	the	night	;
	For	greedy	Love	each	moment	would	employ,
	And	grudg'd	the	shortest	pauses	of	their	joy.
	Thus	were	their	loves	auspiciously	begun,
	And	thus	with	secret	care	were	carried	on.
	The	stealth	itself	did	appetite	restore,
	And	look'd	so	like	a	sin,	it	pleas'd	the	more.
	The	cave	was	now	become	a	common	way,
	The	wicket,	often	open'd,	knew	the	key:
	Love	rioted	secure,	and,	long	enjoy'd,
	Was	ever	eager,	and	was	never	cloy'd.
	But	as	extremes	are	short,	of	ill	and	good,
	And	tides	at	highest	mark	regorge	their	flood;
	So	Fate,	that	could	no	more	improve	their	joy,
	Took	a	malicious	pleasure	to	destroy.
	Tancred,	who	fondly	lov'd,	and	whose	delight
	Was	plac'd	in	his	fair	daughter's	daily	sight,
	Of	custom,	when	his	state	affairs	were	done,
	Would	pass	his	pleasing	hours	with	her	alone	;
	And,	as	a	father's	privilege	allow'd,
	Without	attendance	of	th'	officious	crowd.*
	It	happen'd	once,	that	when	in	heat	of	day
	He	try'd	to	sleep,	as	was	his	usual	way,
	The	balmy	slumber	fled	his	wakeful	eyes,
	And	forc'd	him,	in	his	own	despite,	to	rise	:
	Of	sleep	forsaken,	to	relieve	his	care,
	He	sought	the	conversation	of	the	fair	;
	But	with	her	train	of	damsels	she	was	gone,
	In	shady	walks	the	scorching	heat	to	shun	:
	He	would	not	violate	that	sweet	recess,
	And	found	besides	a	welcome	heaviness,
	That	seiz'd	Ifis	eyes;	and	slumber,	which	forgot
	When	call'd	before	to	come,	now	came	unsought.
	From	light	retir'd,	behind	his	daughter's	bed,
	He	for	approaching	sleep	compos'd	his	head	;
	A	chair	was	ready,	for	that	use	design'd,
	So	quilted,	that	he	lay	at	ease	reclin'd	;
	The	curtains	closely	drawn,	the	light	to	skreen,
	As	if	he	had	contriv'd	to	lie	unseen	:
	Thus	cover'd	with	an	artificial	night,
	Sleep	did	his	office	soon,	and	seal'd	his	sight.
	With	Heaven	averse,	inthis	ill-omen'd	hour
	Was	Guiscard	saunmon'd	to	the	secret	bower,
	And	the	fair	nymph,	with	expectation	fir'd,
	From	her	attending	damsels	was	retir'd	:
	For,	true	to	love,	she	measur'd	time	so	right,
	As	not	to	miss	one	moment	of	delight.
	The	garden,	seated	on	the	level	floor,
	She	left	behind,	and,	locking	every	door,
	Thought	all	secure	;	but	little	did	she	know,
	^Blmd	to	her	fate,	she	had	eneios'd	her	foe.
	Attending	Guiscard,	ir	kis	leathern	frock,
	Stood	ready,	with	his	tlrice-repeated	knock	:
	Thrice	with	a	doleful	sind	the	jarring	grate
	Rung	deaf	and	hollow,	ud	presag'd	their	fate.
	The	door	unlock'd,	to	known	delight	they	haste,
	And,	panting	in	each	oner's	arms	embiac'd,
	Rush	to	the	conscious	bd,	a	mutual	freight,
	And	heedless	press	it	wth	their	wonted	weight.
	The	sudden	bound	awifc'd	the	sleeping	sire,
	And	show'd	a	sight	no	>rent	can	desire;
	His	opening	eyes	at	once	with	odious	view
	The	love	discover'd,	anc	:he	lover	knew	:
	He	would	have	cry'd;	bit	hoping	that	he	dreamt,
	Amazement	ty'd	his	ongue,	and	stopp'd	th'
	attempt.
	Th'	ensuing	moment	all	;he	truth	declar'd,
	But	now	he	stood	coilecei,	and	prepar'd,
	For	malice	and	revenue	had	put	him	on	his
	guard.
	So	like	a	lion,	that	unhetced	lay,
	Dissembling	sleep,	and	watchful	to	betray,
	With	inward	rage	he	mediates	his	prey.
	The	thoughtless	pair,	indilging	their	desires	;
	/	'ternate,	kindled,	and	th?n	quench'd	their	fires	;
	I\	or	thinking	in	the	shades	of	death	they	play'd,
	Full	of	themselves,	themse'\es	alone	survey'd,
	And,	too	secure,	were	by	ttemselves	betray'd.
	/Long	time	dissolv'd	in	pleaare	thus	they	lay,
	Till	nature	could	no	more	suffice	their	play	;
	Then	rose	the	youth,	andtlrough	the	cave	again
	Return'd	;	the	princess	minted	with	her	train.
	Resolv'd	his	unripe	vengeaace	to	defer,
	The	royal	spy,	when	now	the	coast	was	clear,
	Sought	not	the	garden,	but	retir'd	unseen,
	To	brood	in	secret	on	his	gatfor'd	spleen,
	And	methodize	revenge	:	to	dcith	he	griev'd	;
	And,	but	he	.saw	the	crime,	had	scarce	believ'd.
	Th'	appointment	for	th'	ensuing	night	he	heard;
	And	therefore	in	the	cavern	had	prepar'd
	Two	brawny	yeomen	of	his	trusty	guard.
	Scarce	had	unwary	Guiscard	set	his	foot
	Within	the	foremost	entrance	of	the	grot,
	When	these	in	secret	ambush	ready	lay;
	And	rushing	on	the	sudden	seiz'd	the	prey:
	Encumber'd	with	his	frock,	without	defence,
	An	easy	prize,	they	led	the	prisoner	thence,
	And,	as	commanded,	brought	before	the	prince.
	The	gloomy	sire,	too	sensible	of	wrong,
	To	vent	his	rage	in	words,	restrain'd	his	tongue,
	And	only-	said,	"	Thus	servants	are	preferr'd,
	And,	trusted,	thus	their	sovereigns	they	reward.
	Had	I	not	seen,	had	not	these	eyes	received
	Top	clear	a	proof,	I	could	not	have	believ'd,"
	He	paus'd,	and	choak'd	the	rest.	The	youth,
	His	forfeit	life	abandon'd	to	the	law,	[who	saw
	The	judge	the	accuser,	and	th'	offence	to	him
	Who	had	both	power	and	will	t'	avenge	the	crime,
	No	vain	defence	prepar'd;	but	thus	reply'd:
	"	The	faults	of	love	by	Love	are	justify	'd:
	With	unresisted	might	the	monarch	reigns,
	He	levels	mountains,	and	he	raises	plains	;
	And,	not	regarding	difference	of	degree,
	Abas'd	your	daughter,	and	exalted	me."
	This	bold	return	with	seeming	patience	heard,
	The	prisoner	was	remitted	to	the	guard.
	The	sullen	tyrant	slept	not	all	the	night,
	But,	lonely	walking	by	a	winking	light,
	Sobb'd,	wept,	and	groan'd,	and	beat	his	withered
	breast,
	But	would	not	violate	his	daughter's	rest	;


DRYDEN'S	POEMS.
	But	true	nobility	is	of	the	mind,
	Not	given	by	chance,	and	not	to	chance	design'd.
	For	the	remaining	doubt	of	thy	decree,
	What	to	resolve,	and	how	dispose	of	me,
	Be	warn'd	to	cast	that	useless	care	aside,
	Myself	alone	will	for	myself	provide,
	If,	in	thy	doting	aucl	decrepit	age,
	Thy	soul,	a	stranger	in	thy	youth	ta	rage,
	Begins	in	cruel	deeds	to	take	delight,
	Gorge	with	my	blood	thy	barbarous	appetite	;
	For	1	so	little	am	disposed	to	pray
	For	life,	I	would	not	cast	a	wish	away.
	Such	as	it	is,	th'	offence	is	all	my	own;
	And	what	to	Guiscard	is	already	done,
	Or	to	be	done,	is	doom'd	by	thy	decree,
	That,	if	not	executed	first	by	thee,
	Shall	on	my	person	be	perform'd	by	me.
	"	Away,	with	women	weep,	and	leave	me	here,
	Fix'd	like	a	may,	to	die	without	a	tear;
	Or	save,	or	slay	us	both	this	present	hour,
	'Tis	all	that	Fate	has	left	within	thy	power."
	She	said	;	nor	did	her	father	fait	to	find,
	In	all	she	spoke,	the	greatness	of	her	mind;
	Yet	thought	she	was	not	obstinate	to	die,
	Nor	dec	in	'd	the	death	she	promised	was	so	nigh	:
	Secure	in	this	belief,	he	left	the	dame,
	Resoiv'd	to	spare	her	life,	and	save	her	shame	;
	But	that	detested	object	to	remove,
	To	wreak	his	vengeance,	and	to	cure	her	love.
	Intent	on	this,	a	secret	order	sign'd,
	The	death	of	Guiscard	to	his	guards	enjoin'd;
	Strangling	was	chosen,	and	the	night	the	time,
	A	mute	revenge,	and	blind	as	was	the	crime	:
	His	faithful	heart,	a	bloody	sacrifice,
	Torn	from	his	breast,	to	glut	the	tyrant's	eyes,
	Clos'd	the	severe	command	(for	slaves	to	pay)	:
	What	kings	decree,	the	soldier	must	obey,
	Wag'd	against	foes;	and	when	the	wars	are	o'er,
	Fit	only	to	maintain	despotic	power;
	Dangerous	to	freedom,	and	desir'd	alone
	By	kings,	who	seek	an	arbitrary	throne:
	Such	were	these	guards;	as	ready	to	have	slain
	The	prince	himself,	allur'd	with	greater	gain;
	So	was	the	charge	perform'd	with	better	will,
	By	men	inur'd	to	blood,	and	exercis'd	in	ill.
	Now,	though	the	sullen	sire	had	eas'd	his	mind,
	The	pomp	of	his	revenge	was	yet	behind,
	A	pomp	prepared	to	grace	the	present	he	design'd.
	A	goblet	rich	with	gems,	and	rough	with	gold,
	Of	depth,	and	breadth,	the	precious	pledge	to	hold,
	With	cruel	care	he	chose	:	the	hollow	part
	Enclos'd,	the	lid	conceal'd	the	lover's	heart	:
	Then	of	his	trusted	mischiefs	one	he	sent,
	And	bade	him	with	these	words	the	gift	present:
	"	Thy	father	sends	thee	this	to	cheer	thy	breast,
	And	glad	thy	sight	with	what	thou	lov'st	the	best;
	As	thou	hast	pleas'd	his	eyes,	and	joy'd	his	mind,
	With	what	he	lov'd	the	most	of	human-kind."
	Ere	this	the	royal	dame,	who	well	had	weigh'd
	The	consequence	of	what	her	sire	had	said,
	Fix'd	on	her	fate,	against	th'	expected	hour
	Procur'd	the	means	to	have	it	in	her	power;
	For	this,	she	had	distill'd	with	early	care
	The	juice	of	simples	friendly	to	despair,
	A	magazine	of	death;	and	thus	prepared,
	Secure	to	die,	the	fatal	message	heard	:
	Then	smil'd	severe;	nor	with	a	troubled	look,
	Or	trembling	hand,	the	funeral	present	took	:
	Ev'n	kept	her	countenance,	when	the	lid	remov'd
	Disclos'd	the	heart,	unfortunately	lov'd;
	She	needed	not	be	told,	within	whose	breast
	It	lodg'd	;	the	message	had	explain'd	the	rest.
	Or	not	amaz'd,	or	hiding	her	surprise,
	She	sternly	on	the	bearer	fix'd	her	eyes	:
	Then	thus;	"	Tell	Tancred,	on	his	daughter's	part,
	The	gold,	though	precious,	equals	not	the	heart:
	But	he	did	well	to	give	his	best;	and	1,
	Who	wish'd	a	worthier	urn,	forgive	his	poverty."
	At	this	she	curb'd	a	groan,	that	else	had	come,
	And,	pausing,	view'd	the	present	in	the	tomb	;
	Then,	to	the	heart	ador'd	devoutly	glew'd
	Her	lips,	and,	raising	it,	her	speech	renew'd	:
	"	Ev'n	from	my	day	of	birth,	to	this,	the	bound
	Of	my	unhappy	being,	I	have	found
	My	father's	care	and	tenderness	express'd	;
	But	this	last	act	of	love	excels	the	rest	:
	For	this	so	dear	a	present,	bear	him	back
	The	best	return	that	I	can	live	to	make."
	The	messenger	dispatch'd,	again	she	view'd
	The	lov'd	remains,	and	sighing	thus	pursu'd	:
	"	Source	of	my	life,	and	lord	of	my	desires,
	In	whom	I	liv'd,	with	whom	my	soul	expires,
	Poor	Heart,	no	more	the	spring	of	vital	heat,
	Cm	s'd	be	the	hands	that	tore	thee	from	thy	seat	!
	The	course	is	finish'd	which	thy	Fates	decreed,
	And	thou	from	thy	corporeal	prison	freed:
	Soon	hast	thou	reach'd	the	goal	with	mended	pace,
	A	world	of	woes	dispatch'd	in	little	space;
	Forc'd	by	thy	worth,	thy	foe,	in	death	become
	Thy	friend,	has	lodg'd	thee	in	a	costly	tomb.
	There	yet	remain'd	thy	funeral	exequies,
	The	weeping	tribute	of	thy	widow's	eyes,
	And	those,	indulgent	Heaven	has	found	the	way
	That	I,	before	my	death,	have	leave	to	pay.
	My	father	ev'n	in	cruelty	is	kind,
	Or	Heaven	has	turn'd	the	malice	of	his	mind
	To	better	uses	than	his	hate	design'd	;
	And	made	th'	insult,	which	in	his	gift	appears,
	The	means	to	mourn	thee	with	my	pious	tears;
	Which	I	will	pay	thee	down,	before	I	go,
	And	save	myself	the	pains	to	weep	below,
	If	souls	can	weep;	though	once	1	meant	to	meet
	My	fate	with	face	unmov'd,	and	eyes	unwet,
	Yet	since	I	have	thee	here	in	narrow	room,
	My	tears	shall	set	thee	first	afloat	within	thy
	Then	(as	I	know	thy	spirit	hovers	nigh)	[tomb	:
	Under	thy	friendly	conduct	will	1	fly
	To	regions	unexplor'd,	secure	to	share
	Thy	state;	nor	Hell	shall	punishment	appear;
	And	Heaven	is	double	Heaven,	if	thou	art	there."
	She	said	:	her	brimful	eyes,	that	ready	stood,
	And	only	wanted	will	to	keep	a	flood,
	Relras'd	their	watery	store,	and	pour'd	amain,
	Like	clouds,	low	hung,	a	sober	shower	of	rain	:
	Mute	solemn	sorrow,	free	from	female	noise,
	Such	as	the	majesty	of	grief	destroys	;
	For,	bending	o'er	the	cup,	the	tears	she	shed
	Seem'd	by	the	posture	to	discharge	her	head,
	O'ertill'd	before,	(and	oft	her	mouth	apply'd
	To	the	cold	heart)	she	kiss'd	at	once,	and	cry'd.
	Her	mardsj	who	stood	amaz'd,	nor	knew	the	cause
	Of	her	complaining,	nor	whose	heart	it	was,
	Yet	all	due	measures	of	her	mourning	kept,	'
	Did	office	at	the	dirge,	and	by	infection	wept	;
	And	oft	inquir'd	th'	occasion	of	her	grief
	(Unanswer'd	but	by	sighs)	and	offer'd	vain	relief.
	At	length	,,her	stock	of	tears	already	shed,
	She	wip'd	her	eyes,	she	rais'd	her	drooping	head,
	And	thus	pursu'd:	"	O	ever	faithful	Heart,
	I	have	perform'd	the	ceremonial	part,