The works of Sr William Davenant ... Consisting of Those which were formerly Printed, and Those which he design'd for the Press: Now published Out of the Authors Originall Copies |
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 | The works of Sr William Davenant |  |
56
Canto the Fourth.
The ARGUMENT.
The Duel where all rules of artful strife,To rescue or indanger Darling-life,
Are by reserves of strength and courage shown;
For killing was long since a Science grown.
Th' event by which the Troops ingaged are,
As private rage too often turns to warr.
1
By what bold passion am I rudely led,Like Fame's too curious and officious Spie,
Where I these Rolls in her dark Closet read,
Where Worthies wrapp'd in Time's disguises lie?
2
Why should we now their shady Curtains draw,Who by a wise retirement hence are freed,
And gon to Lands exempt from Nature's Law,
Where Love no more can mourn, nor valor bleed?
3
Why to this stormy world from their long rest,Are these recall'd to be again displeas'd,
Where during Nature's reign we are opprest,
Till we by Death's high priviledge are eas'd?
4
Is it to boast that Verse has Chymick pow'r,And that its rage (which is productive heat)
Can these revive, as Chymists raise a Flow'r,
Whose scatter'd parts their Glass presents compleat?
5
Though in these Worthies gon, valor and loveDist chastly as in sacred Temples meet,
Such reviv'd Patterns us no more improve,
Then Flow'rs so rais'd by Chymists make us sweet,
6
Yet when the souls disease we desp'rate finde,Poets the old renown'd Physitians are,
Who for the sickly habits of the mind,
Examples as the ancient cure prepare.
7
And bravely then Physitians honor gain,When to the World diseases cureless seem,
And they (in Science valiant) ne'r refrain
Art's war with Nature, till they life redeem.
57
8
But Poets their accustom'd task have longForborn, (who for Examples did disperse
The Heroes vertues in Heroick Song)
And now think vertue sick, past cure of verse.
9
Yet to this desp'rate cure I will proceed,Such patterns shew as shall not fail to move;
Shall teach the valiant patience when they bleed,
And hapless Lovers constancy in Love.
10
Now Honor's chance, the Duke with Oswald takes,The Count his great Stake, Life, to Hubert sets;
Whilst his to Paradin's, Lord Arnold stakes,
And little Hugo throwes at Dargonets.
11
These Four on equall ground those Four oppose;Who wants in strength, supplies it with his skill;
So valiant that they make no haste to close;
They not apace, but handsomly would kill.
12
And as they more each others courage found,Each did their force more civilly express,
To make so manly and so fair a wound,
As loyal Ladies might be proud to dress.
13
But vain, though wond'rous, seems the short eventOf what with pomp and Noise we long prepare:
One hour of battail oft that force hath spent
Which Kings whole lives have gather'd for a war.
14
As Rivers to their ruine hasty be,So life (still earnest, loud, and swift) runs post
To the vast Gulf of Death, as they to Sea,
And vainly travailes to be quickly lost.
15
And now the Fates (who punctually take careWe not escape their sentence at our birth)
Writ Arnold down where those inroled are
Who must in Youth abruptly leave the Earth.
16
Him Paradine into the Brow had pierc't;From whence his blood so overflow'd his Eyes,
He grew too blinde to watch and guard his brest,
Where wounded twice, to Death's cold Court he flies.
17
And Love (by which Life's name does value find,As Altars even subsist by ornament)
Is now as to the Owner quite resign'd,
And in a sigh to his dear Laura sent.
18
Yet Fates so civil were in crueltyAs not to yield that he who conquer'd all
The Tuscan Vale, should unattended dy,
They therefore doom that Dargonet must fall.
58
19
Whom little Hugo dext'rously did vexVVith many wounds in unexpected place,
VVhich yet not kill, but killingly perplex;
Because he held their number a disgrace.
20
For Dargonet in force did much exceedThe most of men, in valor equall'd all;
And was asham'd thus diversly to bleed,
As if he stood where showers of Arrows fall.
21
At once he ventures his remaining strengthTo Hugo's nimble skill, who did desire
To draw this little war out into length,
By motions quick as Heav'n's fantastick fire!
22
This fury now is grown too high to lastIn Dargonet; who does disorder all
The strengths of temp'rance by unruly haste,
Then down at Hugo's feet does breathless fall.
23
When with his own Storm sunk, his Foe did spieLord Arnold dead, and Paradine prepare
To help Prince Oswald to that victory,
Of which the Duke had yet an equal share.
24
Vain Conqueror (said Hugo then) returne!In stead of Laurel which the Victor weares,
Go gather Cypress for thy Brother's Urne,
And learn of me to water it with Tears.
25
Thy Brother lost his life attempting mine;Which cannot for Lord Arnold's loss suffice:
I must revenge (unlucky Paradine)
The blood his death will draw from Laura's Eyes.
26
We Rivals were in Laura, but though sheMy griefs derided, his with sighs approv'd;
Yet I (in Love's exact integrity)
Must take thy life for killing him She lov'd.
27
These quick alike, and artfully as fierce,At one sad instant give and take that wound,
Which does through both their vital Closets pierce;
Where Life's small Lord does warmly sit enthron'd.
28
And then they fell, and now neer upper Heaven,Heav'ns better part of them is hov'ring still,
To watch what end is to their Princes given,
And to brave Hubert, and to Hurgonil.
29
In progress thus to their eternal home,Some method is observ'd by Destiny,
Which at their Princes setting out did doom,
These as their leading Harbingers to die.
59
30
And fatal Hubert we must next attend,Whom Hurgonil had brought to such distress,
That though Life's stock he did not fully spend,
His glory that maintain'd it is grown less.
31
Long had they strove, who first should be destroy'd;And wounds (the Marks of Manhood) gave and took,
Which though like honor'd Age, we would avoid,
Yet make us when possess'd for rev'rence look.
32
O Honor! Frail as Life thy Fellow Flower!Cherish'd and watch'd, and hum'rously esteem'd,
Then worn for short adornments of an hour;
And is when lost no more then life redeem'd.
33
This fatall Hubert findes, if honor beAs much in Princes lost, when it grows less,
As when it dies in men of next degree:
Princes are only Princes by excess.
34
For having twice with his firm OppositeExchang'd a wound, yet none that reach'd at life,
The adverse sword his Arms best sinew hit,
Which holds that strength, which should maintain their strife.
35
When thus his dear defence had left his Hand,Thy life (said Hurgonil) rejoyce to wear
As Orna's favour, and at her command,
Who taught the mercy I will practise here.
36
To which defenceless Hubert did reply,My life (a worthless Blank) I so despise,
Since Fortune laid it in her Lotary,
That I'me asham'd thou draw'st it as a Prise.
37
His grief made noble Hurgonill to melt,Who mourn'd in this a Warrior's various fate;
For though a Victor now, he timely felt
That change which pains us most by coming late.
38
But Orna (ever present in his thought)Prompts him to know, with what success for fame
And Empire, Gondibert and Oswald fought;
Whilst Hubert seeks out death, and shrinks from shame.
39
Valor, and all that practise turns to art,A like the Princes had and understood;
For Oswald now is cool as Gondibert;
Such temper he has got by losing blood.
40
Calmly their temper did their art obey;Their stretch'd Arms regular in motion prove;
And force with as unseen a stealth convey,
As noyseless Houres by hands of Dials move.
60
41
By this new temper Hurgonill believ'dThat Oswald's elder vertues might prevail;
To think his own help needful much he griev'd;
But yet prepar'd it lest the Duke should fail.
42
Small wounds they had, where as in Casements sateDisorder'd Life; who seem'd to look about,
And fain would be abroad, but that a Gate
She wants so wide, at once to sally out.
43
When Gondibert saw Hurgonill draw near,And doubly arm'd at conquer'd Hubert's cost,
He then, who never fear'd, began to fear
Lest by his help his honor should be lost,
44
Retire said he; for if thou hop st to winMy sisters love, by aiding in this strife;
May Heav'n (to make her think they love a sin)
Eclipse that beauty which did give it life.
45
Count Hurgonill did doubtfully retire,Fain would assist, yet durst not disobey;
The Duke would rather instantly expire,
Then hazard Honor by so mean a way.
46
Alike did Oswald for dispatch prepare;And cries since Hubert knew not to subdue;
Glory farewell, that art the Soldiers care!
More lov'd then Woman, less then Woman true!
47
And now they strive with all their sudden forceTo storm Life's Cittadel, each others Brest;
At which could Heav'ns chief Eye have felt remorse,
It would have wink'd, or hast'ned to the West.
48
But sure the Heav'nly Movers little careWhither our motion here be false or true;
For we proceed, whilst they are regular,
As if we Dice for all our actions threw.
49
We seem surrender'd to indiff'rent Chance;Even Death's great work looks like fantastick play;
That Sword which oft did Oswald's fame advance
In publick war, fails in a private fray.
50
For when (because he ebbs of blood did feel)He levell'd all his strength at Gondibert,
It clash'd and broke against the adverse steel,
Which travell'd onward till it reach'd his heart.
51
Now he that like a stedfast statue stoodIn many Battails register'd by Fame;
Does fall depriv'd of language as of blood;
Whilst high the Hunters send their Victor's name.
61
52
Some shout aloud, and others winde the Horn!They mix the Cities with the Field's applause;
Which Borgio soon interprets as their scorn,
And will revenge it ere he mourn the cause.
53
This the cold Evening warm'd of Vasco's age;He shin'd like scorching Noon in Borgio's looks;
Who kindled all about him with his rage;
And worse the triumph then the Conquest Brooks.
54
The Troops (astonish'd with their Leaders fate)The horror first with silence entertain;
With loud impatience then for Borgio waite,
And next with one confusion all complain.
55
Whom thus he urg'd! Prince Oswald did commandWe should remove far from the Combat's list;
And there like unconcern'd Spectators stand;
Justly restrain'd to hinder or assist.
56
This (Patient Friends!) we dully have obey'd;A temp rance which he never taught before;
But though alive he could forbid our aid,
Yet dead, he leaves revenge within our pow'r.
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |