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Alfred

An Epick Poem. In Twelve Books. By Sir Richard Blackmore
  
  

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 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
BOOK VII.
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 


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BOOK VII.

The ARGUMENT.

Alfred returns to Court, designing to take Leave of the King, is received with great Marks of Respect, and while there, growing more remiss and less guarded, he tastes the Pleasures of the Place with unwarrantable Liberty. Albana descended from the royal Family, and a Person of consummate Beauty, falls in Love with the Prince, and by Degrees raises the like Passion in him, which Guithun perceiving, warns Alfred of the Danger, presses him to leave Sicily and pursue his first Design. Alfred is convinced of his Errour, resolves to correct his Conduct, and quit Messina, but breaks his Resolutions and continues fluctuating and unsteady, sometimes yielding, and sometimes getting Ground over his Passion; till seized with a dangerous Feaver, he is awakened by Reflection on approaching


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Death; repents of his Misbehaviour, deprecates divine Displeasure, and sincerely resolves to leave the Sicilian Court. Vpon which Amel is sent from Heaven to encourage him, and remove his Distemper. Alfred being recovered, found that his Virtue was now strong enough to put his Resolutions into Practice, and then takes Leave of the King. Albana enraged at his Design, hires Russians to kill him, but is disappointed by the Management of Mara her Friend and Confident, who herself had a Passion for Alfred. Mara substitutes Broglio in his Place, who is slain by Assassins. Mara mean Time reveals Albana's Plot against Alfred. The Prince leaves Messina, privately embarks and sails for Spain. Albana reflecting on her Order to kill Alfred, is distracted between the Passions of Revenge and Love, but the latter prevailing, she going to Alfred's Chambers to prevent his Death, meets the Assassins coming out, who tell her the Work was done, she swoons, and is carried to her Apartments, where in Anguish she stabs herself.

Alfred return'd to soft Sicilia's Court,
That seem'd unchang'd by the late dire Effort
Which Ætna made the Kingdom to deface,
And purify by Fire th' unhallow'd Race,
The Courtiers Marks of general Joy express'd;
And while the Sov'reign Britain's Prince caress'd,

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Chiefs and superiour Officers of State,
Distinguish'd Lords did on the Stranger wait
Assiduous, and by Turns the Guest invite
To Feasts and Scenes of exquisite Delight.
Alfred intemp'rate Instincts now obey'd,
While at their Banquets he unwatchful staid:
Mean Time his pious Zeal began to cool,
While oft he swerv'd from that celestial Rule
Which he imbib'd in Virtue's sacred School.
Beauteous Albana by the Mother's Side
Near to Sicilia's King in Blood ally'd,
The Relict of Panorma's generous Lord,
For Wit and Features was by all ador'd.
None in her Cheeks, from artful Graces free,
Could borrow'd Bloom and Charms unnative see;
But Beauties, such as in the Realms above
Spring from immortal Youth and blissful Love,
Like opening Roses at the Sun's Embrace
Smil'd heav'nly sweet and blossom'd in her Face.
No Tongue her gracious Movement can declare,
Nor Words the most expressive paint the Air
And winning Manner of the lovely Fair.
But then beneath these various Charms she hid
Habits, that heav'nly Virtue's Rules forbid:

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Nor did she guard her Honour free from Blame,
But with repeated Guilt distain'd her Fame.
She oft the Prince at publick Feasts had seen,
And with his Person pleas'd, and princely Mien,
Her glancing Eyes she frequent on him turn'd,
His Features view'd, and as she view'd, she burn'd.
Wounded she felt the soft Contagion's Pain
Beat thro' her Heart and shoot thro' every Vein:
By pow'rful Efforts of alluring Smiles,
Expressive Looks and all-engaging Wiles,
She strove to make her Love to Alfred known,
And fire his Soul with Passion, like her own.
Britannia's Prince, whose unexperienc'd Breast
That prevalent Infection ne'er possest,
The Snare eluded, and preserv'd his Heart
Unmov'd by all her Charms and all her Art.
Finding that Albion's Heroe could despise
The silent Eloquence of Smiles and Eyes,
One Day, the Season fit, she thus addrest
Th' attentive Briton now her Brother's Guest,
While she observ'd him singled from the Rest.
The Sense, Politeness, wise and graceful Mien,
Perfections which in Alfred we have seen

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With Wonder and Delight, illustrious Prince,
Will now with Ease th' admiring World convince,
That the bright Virtue's of a noble Mind
To these more Southern Climes are not confin'd.
Endow'd with Letters, Elegance of Taste,
And courtly Manners yet by none surpast,
You from a distant Isle and colder Skies
Sicilia's Sons and Rome her self surprize.
At their first Rising, your strong Beams display
A Blaze of Glory and meridian Day:
Your early Branches rich with Verdure shoot,
And mingled with their Bloom bear ripen'd Fruit.
These confluent Graces, which such Lustre wear,
Make you th' unrivall'd Idol of the Fair:
You o'er the Sex to boundless Empire born,
Gain all the Beauties that the Court adorn,
And with despotick Pow'r their Passions sway;
Should Alfred sue what Heart can disobey?
The envy'd Princess, whose superiour Charms
Shall warm your Breast and win you to her Arms,
Proud of the glorious Conquest of her Eyes
Would match the happy Natives of the Skies.
She ceas'd—And blushing with a modest Air
Doubled her Graces and enforc'd the Snare.

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The Heroe, conscious of her Flame confest,
Prudent conceal'd the Secret in his Breast,
And thus reply'd—Albana, were it true
That these profuse Encomiums were my Due,
That from immod'rate courtly Candour grow,
And not from Justice but Indulgence flow;
And if, assur'd none would my Suit refuse,
I might the most engaging Beauty chuse,
Yet bound by strict irrevocable Vows
Not the most charming Princess to espouse
While trav'lling I pursue my first Design,
I must the great Felicity decline.
Religion and Atulpho's high Commands
Bid me advance and visit various Lands
To form my Mind, should Empire be my Fate,
To guide with skilful Hands the Helm of State.
For this I chearful left my native Soil
To undergo great Dangers, Care, and Toil,
In Lands unknown and on unpractis'd Seas,
That I my Thirst of Science might appease.
Tho' Providence supream, which I adore,
Enjoins me soon to leave Sicilia's Shore
New States and distant Kingdoms to survey,
And I the mighty Impulse must obey;
No Absence, Time, or intervening Space
Shall from my grateful Soul the Thoughts efface

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Of the high Honours here on Alfred thrown,
And chiefly those by bright Albana shown.
He ceas'd—The Princess with Resentment fir'd,
Which yet she cover'd artfully, retir'd.
And now her Breast with warring Passions strove,
An Uproar caus'd by disappointed Love,
A Medly of Distress, Revenge, and Care,
And Rage the genuine Offspring of Despair.
She wrung her Hands, and raving beat her Breast,
Now threw her self upon the Bed opprest
With heavy Grief, now starting stamp'd the Ground,
Fix'd her sad Eyes, or turn'd them wildly round.
So when in cruel Pastime Peasants fling
Their pointed Reeds, and break the vig'rous wing
Of some proud Swan, the lovely Suff'rer's Cries
And piteous Moans ring thro' the ambient Skies;
Flutt'ring in Flight she with her Pinion beats
The River's Face, and seeks the shelt'ring Seats
Of the next reedy Isle, and of her Pains
To Hills and Woods and murm'ring Streams complains,
While from her Wound fresh vital Crimson flows
Plenteous, and dyes to red her native Snows.
Then thus the Princess to her self begun;
Ungrateful, cruel, proud, Atulpho's Son,

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Hast thou Albana's Favour thus abus'd,
Slighted my Charms and profer'd Love refus'd?
Rejected! mock'd! my Soul is all on Fire,
My tender Flames more gen'rous Heat acquire,
And nobler Passions now my Breast inspire.
I'll show the vain Transalpine, barb'rous Boy,
That I can ruin, if I can't enjoy;
That 'tis the hardest Province to asswage
Love's soft Emotions, when improv'd to Rage:
By me instructed, haughty Youth, believe
A Woman scorn'd can ne'er th' Affront forgive.
But as her Passion's high unbridled Tide,
Its Fury spent, did by Degrees subside,
Resolv'd by fresh Efforts to prove her Fate
She artful dress'd a new ensnaring Bait:
Then in a chosen Season she address'd
Britannia's Prince, and thus her Thoughts express'd.
Alfred, I know, that you prepare to leave
Sicilia's slighted Kingdom, and bereave
Her troubled Natives of the vast Delight
That thro' the Court and City you excite,
In Virtue rich and Ornaments divine,
That all imperial Pomp and Pow'r out-shine.

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But chief our Beauties will their Fate bewail,
By their weak Charms unable to prevail
And soften Alfred's adamantine Breast,
And scorn'd Albana sad above the rest
Will secret weep, or fill the conscious Air
With the sad Accents of extream Despair;
While on the sandy Margin of the Main
With Hands to Heav'n uplifted we in vain
To Winds and Waves and echoing Rocks complain.
Can blooming Youth inviting Bliss deny?
From Seats of Joy to Scenes of Horrour fly?
All the Delights and Pride of Life postpone
To barb'rous Kingdoms and to Seas unknown,
To Scythia's Snows or Libya's burning Zone?
She said—And then to win the Royal Prize
Smil'd lovely, and, with fascinating Eyes
And all engaging Airs and Arts combin'd,
She studious strove to captivate his Mind.
Th' Assailant stood collected in her Charms
Darting against the Prince her piercing Arms,
And overwhelm'd him with a gushing Blaze
Of Beauty, and a Burst of dazling Rays.
And now, this pow'rful Effort made, the Fair
Left Albion's Prince to struggle with the Snare.

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Nor did the bright Aggressor miss her Aim,
For Britain's Son perceiv'd a secret Flame,
And felt the vital Force of quick'ning Love;
And now his Spirits by the Impulse move
Of the new Guest, while soft unpractis'd Pains
Throb in his Breast and thrill along his Veins.
Th' unknown Contagion with a pleasing Smart
Beats thro' his Nerves and vibrates in his Heart.
Now changing Cheeks, by Turns from pale to red,
Confess'd the gentle Wound that inward bled.
Sometimes he started up as in Surprize,
And sometimes rigid stood, and fix'd his Eyes;
While the new Pow'r impatient of Controul
Rais'd this seditious Tumult in his Soul,
Reason, thy Pow'rs imperious Love obey,
Or own at best a weak, divided Sway.
As when on Indian Plains a Rattle-Snake
Perches a Red-Bird in a shady Brake,
The wily Serpent from his Eyes conveys
A splendid Show'r of captivating Rays;
The Bird enchanted cannot turn his Sight,
Nor from the bright Destroyer take his Flight;
But to the Ground he falls, and panting lies
Still gazing on the Charmer, tho' he dies.
So Alfred felt th' Infection in his Heart,
And conscious of its Poison hugg'd the Dart,

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Now Passion's Tide retires at Reason's Frown,
Now rushes back and bears Reflection down;
It this and that Way in his Bosom roll'd,
By Turns prevailing and by Turns controul'd.
At Court-Assemblies oft he met the Fair,
Nor could he but in Pain her Absence bear;
Hence oft impatient he Albana sought,
And, when he found the Idol of his Thought,
A Stress of Joy did in his Bosom rise,
Bound thro' his Heart, and sparkle in his Eyes;
His Spirits sprung and with redoubled Force
Shot thro' their Roads and brighten'd in their Course.
Profuse Delight, when she was present, shown,
And gay Demeanour in the Prince unknown,
Repeated Visits, and protracted Stay,
Conspiring Signs, victorious Love betray;
And tho' he thought that Conquest he conceal'd,
His every Look the secret Wound reveal'd,
And his disorder'd Temper plain confest
The Pow'r that rul'd his Soul and broke his Rest.
But tho' this Passion he unwary feeds,
He yet resolv'd that no forbidden Deeds
Should on his Conduct leave a guilty Stain,
Determin'd still his Virtue to maintain.

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Albana, Mistress of th' engaging Art,
Saw her self Victor of the Heroe's Heart,
And, with the Triumph of her Beauty pleas'd,
Felt the fierce Conflict in her Breast appeas'd:
Nor did she cease to prosecute her Aim,
But rais'd by perfect Skill the Briton's Flame.
And now conspicuous genuine Marks convince
Sicilia's Courtiers, that Britannia's Prince
Was by Albana smit, whilst he in vain
Strove to suppress his self-discovering Pain.
Guithun mean Time, whose watchful Eye discern'd
Alfred's Disorder first, the Fountain learn'd
Whence it deriv'd its Rise, and had in View
The fatal Danger ready to ensue.
To extricate the Heroe, and defeat
The threat'ning Mischief by a wise Retreat,
No longer he his prudent Scheme delay'd,
But thus to touch the Briton's Heart essay'd.
Indulgent Alfred, my important Care,
My free Discourse with wonted Candour hear.
Duty, and Love, and Gratitude, extort,
To cure your erring Judgement, this Effort.

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My Prince I fear has with too strong a Taste
Of late th' Enjoyments of the Court embrac't:
Nipt by this wanton Isle's malignant Air,
The lovely Bloom your Virtue's us'd to bear
Begins to languish, and your heav'nly Light
That shone out strong and dazling to the Sight,
Involv'd in Vapours looks less pure and bright.
Think how the Pontiff with paternal Care
Pray'd and advis'd you wisely to beware
Of Beauty's Charms, and Pleasure's fatal Snare.
Since you first yielded to Temptation's Force,
And then pursu'd your late voluptuous Course,
Is not a sensual Tincture thro' your Mind
Deeply diffus'd, by which 'tis now inclin'd
Not heav'nly, but terrestrial Bliss, to chuse,
Pursue low Pleasures, and sublime refuse!
While Plays, and Sports, and Banquets, you frequent
On soft Sicilia's Luxury intent,
Can you maintain your Intercourse above
By vig'rous Efforts of celestial Love
And lively Hope? Say, can you now adore
And praise the Pow'r supream, and as before
Taste gen'rous Pleasures and divine Delight?
Say, can your Mind to Heav'n direct her Flight

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In ardent Anhelations? Can she rise
From these low Regions to possess the Skies,
And hold a sacred Correspondence there?
Does she not flag and hang in cloudy Air,
Or sordid cling to this dark Planet's Face,
And clasp Pollution with impure Embrace?
Does not the conscious Pow'r, the Judge within,
With Frowns and awful Menaces begin
To fill you with Remorse and secret Fear?
Can you before th' Almighty's Throne appear,
And his impartial Scrutiny abide,
Or from his searching Eye your Errour hide?
Besides, while you with Pleasure have been charm'd
Unvigilant and of your Guard disarm'd,
Albana not for moral Honour fam'd
Has by her Beauty's Charms your Heart inflam'd:
This secret is no more, Men speak it free,
Nor can you veil what all around you see.
Oh! Alfred, where will this Deportment end?
The most destructive Evils must attend
A Conduct (if pursu'd) so ill begun,
Alfred is lost, and Albion is undone.
By Distance screen'd and shelter'd safe beware
How you approach too near th' alluring Snare.

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If you to nice Distinctions have Resort,
And on the Frontier of Destruction sport,
On Virtue's utmost Bounds, you'll miss your Way,
And thro' a Maze of Vice and Errour stray.
Never uncautious rashly tempt your Fate,
But dread the Hook hid in th' enticing Bait;
Would you maintain unblemish'd Virtue? still
Shun dubious Things, as well as plainly ill.
Tho' now, 'tis true, the strong Temptation's Force
Suspends Religion, and diverts its Course;
Yet still the Pow'r that chiefly rules your Soul,
And will I trust your future Life controul,
Is heav'nly Virtue, which, tho' now opprest
It sleeps a while unactive in your Breast,
Will, rous'd and waken'd by a conscious Sting,
From its elastick self-recov'ring Spring
New Strength acquire, and re-instated gain
Its former Empire and o'er Passion reign.
He ceas'd—Prince Alfred, who began to melt,
Soon strong Emotions in his Bosom felt,
And while to right Reflection he return'd,
He saw his Folly and his Errour mourn'd:
And now convinc'd he had too far comply'd,
And on his Virtue's Strength too much rely'd,

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Firm he resolv'd his Conduct to correct,
To shun ensnaring Luxury, neglect
Th' engaging Fair, and, arm'd with Reason, wrest
Her beauteous Image wholly from his Breast.
Guithun was ravish'd in the Prince to find
So good a Taste, and so dispos'd a Mind:
Then press'd him to forsake Sicilia's Isle,
And change soft Pleasure for instructive Toil.
Alfred assents, determin'd to pursue
His great Design, and yet new Kingdoms view:
But Alfred was not conscious how the Heart
Is faithless, and from Vows inclin'd to start:
Moral Intentions, form'd in Heat and Haste,
O'erpow'r'd by youthful Instinct cannot last.
Soon as at Court by Chance he met the Fair,
Won by her Graces and alluring Air,
He felt the secret Fire begin to burn,
Which now o'er Reason triumph'd in its Turn.
Decrees, that he believ'd would keep the Field
And ne'er again to tempting Objects yield,
In ignominious Weakness at the Sight
Of the resistless Foe were put to Flight.
Now did the Prince Albana's Charms adore,
With the same Ardour which he shew'd before;

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And, by his Mien and Looks and Words, confest
That Love restor'd reign'd Victor in his Breast.
But when by Night on Bed he sought Repose,
Tumultuous Thoughts thick in his Soul arose
Stung with Reflection, while with Shame he view'd
His broken Vows, and felt his Flame renew'd:
Then he resolv'd to shun th' alluring Bait,
But soon relaps'd, and urg'd again his Fate.
Now Love and Reason Alfred's Heart divide,
The ruling Pow'r not fix'd on either Side:
The Dictates now of Prudence he obeys,
And conquering Passion now the Heroe sways,
Who oft with unsuccessful Efforts try'd
To quell the Tyrant, which his Force defy'd.
When he Albana sees, with Beauty charm'd,
Won by a Smile and by a Glance disarm'd
Of all his Vows, his Weakness he betrays,
And melts, like Wax, before the solar Rays:
But when alone attentive and sedate
He views his Virtue's fluctuating State,
He mourns the Fault he wants a Heart to mend,
And does by Turns repent, by Turns offend.
Perplex'd unequal Life! so Men, that game,
When Losers rave and their ill Fortune blame,

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Then vow, with Hands uplifted to the Sky,
They'll touch no more the Card, nor throw the Die;
Till caught again by the same tempting Bait,
Again they try, and curse again their Fate.
Great are their Streights whose adverse Instincts reign
With equal Force, and doubtful War maintain:
Oft pious Paths they keep, and oft forsake,
Repeat their Vows, and break the Vows they make:
They conquer now, and now the Battle lose,
Not wholly Vice, nor wholly Virtue chuse.
As near the Cape, or Taprobana's Coast
Where the wild Waves of orient Seas are tost,
If Hurricanes or wild Tornadoes rise
And breaking spread loud Terrour thro' the Skies,
In furious War Winds opposite engage,
And with Success alternate spend their Rage;
While prevalent by Turns the Rivals share
The litigated Empire of the Air:
So Alfred fed intestine doubtful Strife,
And full of Anguish past distracted Life;
Tho' urg'd by Guithun oft to break away
From this luxurious Isle, still would he stay,
Inventing new Excuses for Delay.
Amel mean Time commission'd from above
To stop the Growth of rash pernicious Love,

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Descending from on high thro' liquid Skies,
With rapid Pinions to Sicilia flies.
Now Night prevail'd when he the Briton found:
While Sleep's soft Chains his yielding Senses bound,
Unseen the Angel darted at his Breast
A pointed livid Flame, that soon possest
The Seats of Life, fill'd every Limb with Pains,
His Heart with Anguish, and with Heat his Veins.
His Orders thus the Minister obey'd,
Then to regain the Heav'ns his Wings display'd.
The Prince in restless Agitations turn'd
From Side to Side, and, while his Body burn'd
In the fierce Feaver's Flame, he pass'd the Night
Watching with eager Eyes returning Light.
With the hard Labour of a panting Breast,
Aches acute, and raging Thirst opprest,
Fetching repeated Sighs the Briton lay,
Till the bright Sun had finish'd half the Day.
Archon, whose Praises for consummate Skill
Sicilia's Court and grateful Cities fill,
Just Methods takes and gen'rous Druggs ordains
To cool the Fire and mitigate the Pains.
But still the sharp Disease new Force acquir'd,
For Time, as well as Med'cine, is requir'd

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To aid succumbent Nature, and appease
Seditious Ferments now, now Torment ease.
Six Times the Sun by Turns his Face reveal'd
And to each adverse World by Turns conceal'd,
While restless Alfred languish'd on his Bed,
And in his Veins the secret Poison fed.
Now trembling Pulse, deep Groans, and double Sighs
Which from opprest and sinking Nature rise,
Sickness at Heart, and short unequal Breath,
Seem'd ill presaging Messengers of Death.
The Heroe held in this suspended State,
Anxious of Mind and doubtful of his Fate,
And setting vast Eternity in View,
And Scenes of Life that after Death ensue,
The awful Day that shall, with just Regard
To Vice and Virtue, punish and reward,
Delib'rate Thoughts on his late Conduct turns,
And with Displeasure from Reflection burns.
For now the Worm, that circling lay at rest,
By this Affright awaken'd in his Breast
Unfolds his Volumes and erects his Crest:
Then all enrag'd, exerting double Force,
Wounds deep his Soul and stings him with Remorse.
Thus rous'd the contrite Heroe now repents,
O'erwhelm'd with Grief and Shame his Guilt laments,

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And, with Confession and repeated Pray'r,
Implor'd the Judge the Penitent to spare.
To Guithun, standing by with Woe oppress'd,
In troubled Accents thus the Prince address'd;
Guithun, my Friend, my wise and faithful Guide,
Had I with thy divine Advice comply'd,
I had not felt these Terrours in my Mind,
But unreluctant had my Life resign'd
To Heav'n's Decree; but oh! 'tis now too late,
Guilt makes me startle at approaching Fate.
Distracted in my Thoughts I trembling lie
Doubtful of Life and ill prepar'd to die.
Offended Justice frowns, how much I fear
Before th' august Tribunal to appear!
In deeper Colours this my Guilt displays,
And in Proportion should my Sorrow raise,
That I, who storms of fiery Vengeance saw
Which on my Soul impress'd a solemn Awe,
Should soon forget those Scenes of Wrath divine,
And, stupid grown, from Virtue's Paths decline.
But should th' eternal Mind, whom I implore,
Gracious my pristine State of Health restore,
—My sacred Vows sincerely I renew
Religion's heav'nly Precepts to pursue

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With ardent Zeal, and fly this dang'rous Land
Where reigning Vice enjoys such wide Command,
Where fatal Nets o'erspread th' insidious Ground
In Riot drench'd and in loose Pleasures drown'd.
He ceas'd—And prudent Guithun thus replies,
Grief in his Breast and Pity in his Eyes.
Whene'er a contrite Criminal laments
Contracted Guilt, indulgent Heav'n repents
Of threaten'd Vengeance, and to Justice slow
Lets fall his lifted Arm, and drops the Blow;
Mercy divine displays her heav'nly Charms,
And meets Returners with expanded Arms:
Then in th' Almighty's promis'd Aid confide,
On this in vain no Penitent rely'd.
If you no more your erring Steps allow,
But your griev'd Soul in deep Contrition bow
To the great Being Nature's causeless Cause,
Who rules the World by just and equal Laws,
By the Redeemer's Merit, Alfred, know,
Not by your own, he will propitious grow:
Then to the Pow'r supream your Will resign,
For if, by Death decreed, he should confine
Your Body to the Tomb, your Mind will rise
To endless Bliss, and triumph in the Skies;

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Alfred will sure (to this safe Refuge fly,)
Live to his Praise, or in his Favour die.
The Prince reply'd—My Crimes disarm my Soul
Of wonted Firmness, and her Pow'rs controul:
Frenzy it is, not Courage, to engage
Th' Almighty Being and provoke his Rage
By bold Defiance, on his Thunder press,
And rush on Arms divine; in my Distress
I chuse to importune, as you advise,
The Judge supreme with penitential Cries;
I'll justify the Rod, and not arraign,
That wounds my Body and inflicts my Pain.
I ask for Mercy at th' Almighty's Feet,
And may perhaps divine Compassion meet:
But still whate'er is my determin'd Fate,
It never impious Murmurs shall create:
Still on th' Eternal's Goodness I rely,
Living I love, and trust him if I die.
His ardent Pray'r strove thro' the void Abyss
To the sublime Abodes of Peace and Bliss,
And like a balmy Cloud of Incense rose
Whence thro' the happy Skies sweet Odour flows:

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This the great Intercessour, who alone
Can by his Merits Wrath divine atone,
Presented gracious to the Father's Throne.
He thus appeas'd express'd his high Command
That Amel swift should gain Sicilia's Land
And heal the Briton; he without Delay
Quick, as a golden Sun-beam, wing'd his Way.
He reach'd the Isle and to the Prince address'd
With trembling Pulse and Death-like Sweat oppress'd:
And thus he said—Briton, my tender Care,
Th' Almighty Being, who has heard your Pray'r,
Will Alfred's threaten'd Life indulgent save,
And gracious disappoint th' expecting Grave.
This Med'cine in my Hand shall Health assure,
Asswage your Feaver, and compleat your Cure.
Then to the painful Boil with Speed apply
This wholsome Gumm, and Alfred shall not dye.
He said—And with a mild angelick Mien
Retir'd, and mounted to the World unseen.
Guithun the Sov'reign Drugg extended o'er
Soft Sattin, and apply'd it to the Sore,
Which ripen'd by the healing Vertue broke,
And gave the Poison vent,—Then Alfred spoke

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To Guithun thus—I find my sharp Disease
Remov'd, and Nature feels returning Ease:
New vital Vigour animates my Heart,
And active Spirits thro' my Sinews dart.
Now he his God, who the bright Seraph sent
His Fate by timely Succour to prevent,
Devoutly prais'd, and his great Name ador'd
Who to his Body Health at once restor'd,
And to his Mind Tranquillity and Rest:
Then with an ardent Zeal these Words exprest;
Since gracious Heav'n has from my Soul the Night
Dispell'd, and open'd my suspended Sight
Whence I my Stains with Shame and Sorrow view,
Bear Witness I my solemn Vows renew
Celestial Virtue's Dictates to pursue.
Should I Britannia's Crown imperial wear
This firm Decree delib'rate I declare;
Acts of Religion, sacred Pray'r and Praise
Which pious Minds by heav'nly Commerce raise.
Affairs of high Importance that relate
To the Defence and Glory of the State,
Decrees of Justice, and domestick Care,
Shall all my Hours in settled Order share.
Th' Approach of Death thus cures an erring Mind,
Teaches the Deaf to hear, to see, the blind:

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Confine the Youth, that makes forbidden Joys
And sensual Pleasure his immoral Choice,
Let him in Pain and threat'ning Sickness lye,
While his despairing Friends stand weeping by,
And while he draws in Sobs unequal Breath,
And grows acquainted with instructive Death,
How soon convinc'd will he his Crimes confess?
What diff'rent Notions will his Mind possess?
How will he now soft Pleasure's Charms despise,
While he reviews them with enlighten'd Eyes!
Nor Sports, nor Women, nor th' enchanting Bowl,
Will please his Taste or captivate his Soul:
Thus Rays divine, and intellectual Light,
Dawn from the Grave, and break from gloomy Night.
Alfred, his florid Looks and Strength restor'd,
Address'd with high Respect Sicilia's Lord,
And, for his princely Favours shewn exprest,
The worthy Passion of a grateful Breast:
In lively Words then bade the Court adieu,
Determin'd soon Sea-Labours to pursue.
To fair Albana busy Fame reveal'd
Th' important News no longer now conceal'd:
She finding Alfred was no more her Slave,
Defeated of her Aim began to rave;

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And her outragious Sorrow to abate,
Asswage her tort'ring Pain, and sooth her Hate
By deep and sweet Revenge, she studious bent
Her Genius rich in Mischief to invent
With black infernal Art some Project sure,
The Heroe's swift Destruction to procure.
Now in her Mind she various Schemes revolv'd,
And on the Russian's Steel at length resolv'd:
For here great Numbers Wounds clandestine give
For annual Stipends, and by Murder live.
From this inhumane execrable Band,
Ready for Slaughter at their Lord's Command,
She chose out four that should their Arms employ
The British Prince in secret to destroy.
Mara, of noble Birth, in Blood ally'd
And in strict Friendship to Albana ty'd
Was near her Heart, and priviledg'd to know
Her private Life, as well the Scenes of Woe
As of Delight; besides she knew the Fair
Did to the Briton warm Affection bear.
To her Albana had the Secret told
How she disclos'd her Passion, and how cold
To her discover'd Love the Prince appear'd,
And how unmov'd her tender Story heard;

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Till by Degrees the long resisted Dart
Enter'd his Breast and pierc'd his yielding Heart.
He then, she said, his pleasing Wound declar'd,
But for Albana now owns no Regard.
Without addressing me, whom he before
Did as the Idol of his Soul adore,
Cruel he seeks to leave Messina's Shore.
Then her Resentment fully she display'd,
And told the vengeful Scheme her Wrath had laid.
Mara, who Albion's Prince admir'd and lov'd,
With a feign'd Joy the black Design approv'd,
Flatt'ring her Rage, but with conceal'd Intent
Albana's bloody Purpose to prevent.
This to accomplish she with Care oppress'd
To Broglio, sprung from noble Blood, address'd.
He Mara's Brother had perfidious slain,
And oft had profer'd Love to her in vain.
Broglio, said she, would you by Deeds attest
That Flame sincere which you have oft profest,
Gain my Esteem by granting my Request.
Alfred oblig'd to pass the following Night
With one of high Extraction in Delight,
Has ask'd, that she would some fit Youth engage,
Alike in Stature and alike in Age,

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On the Britannick Prince's Bed to lye,
And thus elude attentive Guithun's Eye.
This Scheme to sooth two Passion's Mara wrought,
While to avenge her Brother's Death she sought,
And guard the Briton's Life from threat'ning Harms,
And disappoint th' Assassin's barb'rous Arms.
Broglio, impatient to oblige the Fair,
Comply'd, unconscious of the hidden Snare,
And to th' Apartment secret took his Way
Where for Repose the Briton constant lay,
And, to obtain bright Mara for his Bride,
In Alfred's Bed he Alfred's Place supply'd,
Where, from th' Assassins ent'ring swift the Room,
The hapless Youth receiv'd another's Doom;
Stabb'd in soft Slumber he resign'd his Breath,
And chang'd its Image into real Death.
Ere this fell out the Secret Mara told
To Albion's Prince, and did the Plot unfold
Against his Life, then urg'd him to retreat
With Speed from this inhospitable Seat.
Her Words obtain'd Belief, the Prince revolv'd
A while th' important Subject, then resolv'd
Soon to embark, and change Sicilia's Isle
For Seas less dang'rous, and securer Soil.

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Mara, with Airs that tender Nature move
And all th' engaging Eloquence of Love,
Earnest Britannia's Heroe now addrest
To bid her live by granting this Request;
That she his future Fortunes might attend,
And near his Person Life remaining spend;
To win him to consent, and gain his Heart,
She urg'd her ardent Passion, and the Part
She generous acted with successful Art,
While she contriv'd that Alfred might not feel
Plung'd in his Breast th' Assassin's fatal Steel:
And hop'd her Beauty, Wit, and blooming Age,
When thus assisted would his Soul engage;
But in her Story Broglio's Fate supprest,
Assur'd the Heroe would that Deed detest.
Here Briton's Prince his grateful Sense declar'd
Of Mara's Care and Vigilance to ward
Th' impending Blow against his Life design'd,
Who thus enrag'd Albana countermin'd.
Then said—Controul'd by Albion's King's Command
And solemn Vows, I must your Suit withstand;
And as I dare not feed forbidden Love,
So now I cannot Conjugal approve.

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Then he repeated to her Merit due
His Thanks unfeign'd, and bade a long adieu.
Bent to depart before, and now appriz'd
Of the black Scheme against his Life devis'd
By the vindictive Fair, the Prince withdrew
Secret from Court his Purpose to pursue.
Then on a Ship made ready in the Bay
The British Pair embark, soon Anchor weigh,
And to a prosp'rous Wind the Sail display.
The Plan adjusted Alfred to destroy,
Albana felt a while distemper'd Joy,
While in her Bosom for Dominion strove
Rival Emotions, fierce Revenge and Love;
Like adverse Tides, or Storms of Wind engag'd
In furious Conflict, her wild Passions rag'd.
Now did Revenge her swelling Breast controul,
And with its Vipers sting and urge her Soul,
When thus she said—Briton! thy Fate's decreed,
To injur'd Love thou shalt a Victim bleed.
The Poniard's Point shall more successful prove
To pierce thy Heart, than the soft Dart of Love.
Methinks I see the brave Assailant stand
Grasping his bright Steeletto in his Hand

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Ready to strike the Blow, and make thee feel
Fix'd in thy wounded Veins the fatal Steel.
I see, I see Thee agonizing lye,
Delightful Sight! bleed, Traytor, bleed and die.
I hear thy deep-fetch'd Sighs and double Breath,
Thy Sobs and Groans, and see Thee strive with Death.
How do convulsive Throws thy Sinews rack,
Thy Members quiver, and thy Heart-strings crack!
How do thy rolling Eye-balls search the Light,
Swim in thick Mists and sink in endless Night!
Voluptuous Scene! what high Delight it brings!
From just Revenge what rapt'rous Pleasure springs!
This Tempest scatter'd, Love, before restrain'd,
Its Force exerted and Dominion gain'd.
Lovely the Prince did to her Thoughts return,
Reviv'd her Flame, and made it fiercer burn:
His godlike Image to her Mind endear'd,
His beauteous Form, and blooming Youth appear'd:
And hence the Princess tender grew, and felt
Her yielding Heart with soft Compassion melt.
Then thus she said—My Orders I repent;
Must Alfred die?—No, I'll his Fate prevent.
Indignant Love insults my Mind, and now
How much the Tragick Scheme I disavow?

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I feel my Soul with Horrour backward start;
Shall I destroy by base revengeful Art
The chief Delight, the Idol of my Heart?
I'm wild, distracted, tortur'd with Debate;
I have decreed, yet would reverse his Fate,
At once the Object of my Love and Hate.
Arm'd with vindictive Fury could I wrest
His dear yet odious Image from my Breast,
I should not wish my Orders to recall,
But see him die and triumph in his Fall.
But while my Passion rules I must the Steel,
That pierces his, in my own Bosom feel.
Why does Albana undetermin'd stand?
If Alfred bleeds by my unjust Command,
Of Life impatient I must Death implore
To ease my Anguish, and my Peace restore.
Should Alfred die, no more I Being own,
What is the joyless Name? the Bliss is gone:
I must repair to Hills and lonesome Woods,
Or sighing wander by the murm'ring Floods:
Now meet the howling Wolf and grisly Bear,
Companions savage as my wild Despair:
Now on the sandy Shores complaining creep,
Lull'd with the whirling Gulphs, and stormy Deep;

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Musick becoming my delightless State,
If I prevent not godlike Alfred's Fate.
But then reflecting on her slighted Charms,
And his Refusal of her proffer'd Arms,
Tho' he had oft in lively Words confess'd
The soft Contagion that his Heart possess'd;
And how to see Albana he declin'd,
And now to quit Sicilia's Coast design'd;
Unbridled Fury soon began to burn
With Flames reviv'd, and triumph'd in its Turn.
Thus fierce Revenge and melting Pity strove
For Empire in her Breast, till tender Love,
The most prevailing Instinct of the Soul,
Its rival Passion did at length controul;
And then she cry'd—My Orders I recall,
If 'tis not now too late—The Briton's Fall
I must prevent—In this indulgent View
To Alfred's Rooms she with her Servants flew.
The Leader of the mercenary Band,
Grasping his bloody Poniard in his Hand,
Met the impatient Princess at the Door
And cry'd—'Tis done—Proud Alfred is no more:
See, there he welters in his flowing Gore.

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The Princess mutt'ring faintly, Furies! Hell!
Swooning away as Planet-smitten fell
Into her Servants Arms, who weeping bear
Sinking Albana back with tender Care:
Reviv'd with burning Gumms and fragrant Oyl
Her Spirits reassum'd their vital Toil.
The Princess now, Attendants sent away,
Distress'd in anxious Thoughts extended lay,
As meditating Slumber on her Bed
Of softest Down with broider'd Scarlet spread.
Conscious Reflections gave her deadly Pain,
With frightful Visions fill'd her lab'ring Brain,
And in her Soul with Guilt polluted bred
Remorse and Horrour and amazing Dread.
While, as she thought, she saw the Briton stand
With open Breast, and shewing with his Hand
The deep and ghastly Wound that reach'd his Heart,
How did her shudd'ring Soul with Terrour start!
Then thus she said—Assist me, bold Despair,
Let me no longer breathe the vital Air;
Life is a Burden now too great to bear.
Then rising up with heavy Grief opprest,
She plung'd her Poniard deep within her Breast;

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And while her Heart in agonizing Strife
Quiver'd, and felt the Pangs of ebbing Life,
Her misty Eyes swam in prevailing Night,
Catch'd dubious Day, and hung on parting Light.