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 |  |
86
Canto the Second.
The ARGUMENT.
Fame's progress through Verona, when she bringsIll news inlarg'd, as her extended wings.
The Combat's cause shakes Aribert's great mind;
And the effect more conquers Rhodalind.
Meek Orna's fears, proud Gartha's bold disdain;
And Laura kindly dying for the Slain.
1
To Streets (the People's Region) early FameFirst brought this grief, which all more tragick make;
And next, to the triumphant Court she came,
Where prosp'rous Pow'r sleeps long, though Sutors wake;
2
But yet the early King (from Childhood bredTo dangers, toyls, and courser wants of ware)
Rose up to rule, and left soft Love in bed,
Could conquer Lands and Love, but stoopt to care.
3
Care, that in Cloysters only seales her Eyes,Which Youth thinks folly, Age as wisdom owns;
Fooles by not knowing her, out-live the wise;
She visits Cities, but she dwells in Thrones.
4
Care, which King Aribert with Conquest gain'd,And is more sure to him then Realms intail'd;
Wak'd him to know why Rumor thus complain'd,
Or who in battel bled, or who prevail'd?
5
Young Hurgonil (who does his wounds conceal,Yet knew it did his dutious care import
That some just witness should his cause reveal)
Sent Tybalt to appease, and tast the Court.
6
To that proud Palace which once low did lieIn Parian Quarries, now on Columnes stands;
Ionique Props that bear their Arches high,
With ample treasure rais'd by Tuscan Hands.
7
So vast of height, to which such space did fitAs if it were o're-syz'd for Modern Men;
The ancient Giants might inhabit it;
And there walk free as windes that pass unseen.
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8
The Monarch's wealth this shew'd in all the parts;But his strong numerous Guards denote him wise;
Who on the weather of his Peoples hearts,
For a short Course, not voyages, relies.
9
Through many Guards (all watchful, calm, and bold)Tybalt did pass the first magnifick Square;
And through ascents does enter to behold,
Where the States Head and Eies assembled are.
10
There sat the King, on whose consid'rate BrowSixty experienc'd Sommers he discern'd,
Which made him ripe, and all of Conduct know
That from success is own'd, from losses learn'd.
11
Neer him the Empire's strict Surveyors sate;Whose universal sight no object lose;
Who see not crimes too soon, nor worth too late;
Finde dangers seed, and choake it ere it grows.
12
He wealth not birth preferr'd to Councels place;For Councel is for use, not ornament;
Soules are alike, of rich and ancient race;
Though Bodies claim distinctions by descent.
13
Here boyling Youth, nor frozen Age can sit:It would in Subjects scorne of ruling Breed,
If that great work should such small ayds admit,
And make them hope that they no Rulers need.
14
Nature too oft by birthright does preferrLess perfect Monarchs to an anxious Throne;
Yet more then her, Courts by weak Counc'lers err,
In adding Cyphers where she made but one.
15
To this wise King, sage Tybalt did relateThe Combats cause, with truth's severe extent
Reveales that fire which kindl'd Oswald's hate;
For which such precious valor was misspent.
16
Gives Gondibert a just record of praise;First how unwilling, then how bold in sight;
And crownes the Conquer'd with the Victor's Baies,
When Manhood bids him do their valor right:
17
At last he counts the wounded and the slaine;And how Prince Hubert and the Duke retir'd;
From nothing brave or great he did refraine,
But his own deeds, which doing were admir'd.
18
This Arribert with outward patience heares,Though wounded by the cause for which they fought;
With mod'rate joy the death of Oswald beares;
Yet justly to extremes it inward wrought.
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19
Tybalt he now with peaceful lookes discharg'd;And then his thoughts (imprison'd in his breast)
He strait by liberty of Tongue inlarg'd;
Which thus unto his Councel he addrest.
20
With what a difference Nature's pallat tastsThe sweetest draught which Art provides her, Pow'r:
Since Pow'r, Pride's Wine, but high in relish lasts
Whilst fuming new, for time does turn it sowre?
21
Yet Pow'r Earth's tempting Fruit, Heav'n first did plant,From Man's first Serpent safe, Ambition's reach;
Else Eden could not serve Ambition's want;
Whom no command can rule, nor councel teach.
22
Pow'r is that luscious wine, which does the bold,The wise, and noble most intoxicate;
Adds time to Youth, and takes it from the old;
Yet I by surfeit this Elixer hate.
23
I curse those Wars that make my glory last;For which the Tuscan Widows curse me more;
The barren Fields where I in Arms did fast,
That I might surfeit on luxurious pow'r.
24
Thou Hermegild, who art for valor Crown'd,For honor trusted, and for wisdom heard;
And you whom Councel has no less renown'd,
Observe how vertue against peace has err'd.
25
Still I have fought, as if in Beauty's sight,Out-suffer'd patience, bred in Captives Breasts;
Taught fasts, till Bodys like our Souls grew light;
Outwatch'd the jealous, and outlabour'd Beasts.
26
These were my merits, my reward is Pow'r;An outward Trifle, bought with inward peace;
Got in an Age, and rifled in an how'r;
When Feav'rish love, the People's Fit, shall cease.
27
For did not pow'r on their fraile love depend,Prince Oswald had not treated with that love;
Whose glory did in hasty darkness end;
A sparke which vanish'd, as it upward strove.
28
By scorne of dangers and of ease, he soughtThe Lombards hearts, my Rhodalind, and Crowne;
And much his youth had by his practice wrought,
Had Gondibert not levell'd his renowne:
29
Had Gondibert not staid the Peoples Eies(Whose vertue stept 'twixt Oswald and their sight)
Who knows but Rhodalind had bin his Prise,
Or war must have secur'd Paternal right
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30
Sad and uneasie is a long kept Throne;Not that the People think long pow'r unjust;
But that for change, they wish best Monarchs gone;
Fond change, the Peoples soon repented lust!
31
I did advance (though with some jealous paine)A forward vertue to my subjects love;
Least one less temp'rate should their favour gaine;
Whom their unstudy'd choice would more approve.
32
To thee sage Hermegild my self I leave,My fame and pow'r: Thee action cannot waste;
Caution retard, nor promptitude deceave;
Slowness belate, nor Hope drive on too faste.
33
Think Hubert Heir to Oswald's bold pretence;To whom the Camp at Brescia is inclin'd;
The Duke at Bergamo will seek defence;
And these are seeds of war for Rhodalind.
34
This said, his Councel he dismiss'd; who spy'dA growing rage, which he would fain conceal;
They durst but nicely search, what he would hide;
Least they inflame the wound that else might heal.
35
They haste to sev'ral Cares; some to allayCourt's hectick Feaver, Faction (which does raign
Where Luxury, the Syre of Want, does sway)
Some to appease th' Alliance of the slain.
36
But Order now bids us again persueTh'unweary'd Motion of unhappy Fame;
From Fields to Streets, from Streets to Court she flew;
Where first she to the Kings Apartment came.
37
Thence through the Palace she her wings did air;And as her Wings, her Tongue too never ceas'd;
Like restless Swallows in an Evening fair:
At last does on a peaceful dwelling rest.
38
Where Sleep does yet that gentle Sex possesse,Who ne'r should more of Care's rude wakings know,
But what may help sad Lovers to successe;
Or imp loves wings when they are found too slow.
39
There Lovers seek the Royal Rhodalind;Whose secret brest was sick for Gondibert;
And Orna, who had more in publick pin'd
For Hurgonil, the Monarch of her heart.
40
And there the killing Laura did reside;She of whose Eies the Lombard Youth Complain;
Yet often she for noble Arnold di'd;
And knew not now, her Murderer was slain.
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41
Nor Hugo, who was all with love indu'd;Whom still with teares the Lombard Ladies name;
Esteeming Modern Lovers false, and rude,
And Poets falser when they sing their fame.
42
These Beauties (who could soften Tyrant Kings)Sleep now conceal'd within their Curtains shade;
Till rudely Fame, by shaking lowd her wings,
Disturb'd their Eies, and their wak'd hearts dismay'd.
43
They heard in parcels by imperfect sound,A Tale too dismal to be understood;
That all their Lovers lay in hallow'd ground;
Temples their Bodies hid, the Fields their blood.
44
That this dire Morn to sad Verona broughtThe Duke and Oswald, of lov'd life depriv'd;
And that of all who their fierce batail fought,
Onely the mangled Hurgonil surviv'd.
45
This Tale, Fame's course, officious Friends convay'd,(Which are attendant Slaves, and Palace Grooms)
Who by the Lover of some busie Mayd,
From outward Courts sent it to inward Rooms.
46
Such horror brought, where love had onely us'd,Did yet breed more amazement then belief;
Whilst Orna now, and Laura fly confus'd,
To Rhodalind, Truth's Altar, for relief.
47
There with disorder'd voices they compare,And then derive what each has loosly learn'd;
Each hope applies, where others most despaire;
As doubting all but where her self's concern'd.
48
This weeping conf'rence had not lasted long,When Tybalt, free from Aribert's commands,
Scapes the assembling Court's inquiring Throng,
And enters here; where first he doubtful stands.
49
For Pitty, when he ruin'd Laura spi'de,Bids his discretion artfully complain;
And shew far off, what Truth not long can hide:
Death at a distance seen, may ease fears pain.
50
Their bus'ness now he can no more forbear;For who on their urg'd patience can prevail,
Whose expectation is provok'd with fear?
He therefore thus their patience did assail.
51
Kinde Heav'n that gave you vertue, give you peace;Delightful as your Beauties, be your Mindes;
Still may your Lovers your renown increase,
Though he who honor seeks, first danger findes!
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52
Still may your beauty bear that ancient rate,When beauty was chaste Honors Merchandise;
When Valor was chief Factor in Love's State;
Danger, Love's stamp, and Beautie's currant price.
53
Renown'd be Oswald, who in high beliefOf Rhodalind, her love with danger sought;
In Love's Records be Gondibert the chief,
Who for her right, not for his own has fought.
54
Though these for mighty mindes deserve Fame's voice;Yet Orna needs must boast of Hurgonil;
Whose dangers well have justifi'd her choice,
And might alone Fame's publick Trumpet fill.
55
Enlarg'd be Honor's Throne, that Arnold thereAnd Hugo may for ever sit and rest,
Free from their Valor's toyle, and Laura's feare;
Which more then wounds disorder'd eithers Breast.
56
This said, he paws'd; findes each distrusts his art;For Hope and Doubt came and return'd apace,
In chang'd Complexion from th' uncertain heart,
Like frighted Scowtes for Tidings to the Face.
57
His Eye seem'd most imploy'd on Rhodalind;Whose love above her bashful caution sways;
For naming Gondibert, he soon did finde,
Her secret Soul shew'd pleasure at his praise.
58
Yet when she found her comforts did not last,And that as Oracles, the future taught,
He hid Truth's Face, and darkened what was past;
Thus Truth through all her mourning Vailes she sought,
59
Why in these Ladies do you lengthen paine,By giving them Grief's common med'cin, doubt?
Ease those with death whose Lovers now are slaine;
Life's fire a Feaver is, when Love's is out.
60
Yet think not that my cares peculiar are;Perhaps I from religious pitty learn'd,
In Vertu's publick loss to take some share;
For there, all but the vicious are concern'd.
61
Your prudence, Royal Maid (he strait replies)More then your birth, may claim the Lombards Crown
Whoe're in conquest of your favor dies;
For short lifes loss shall find a long renowne.
62
Then happy Oswald who is sure to gaine,Even by Ambition that undoes the wise;
Great was th' attempt for which he's nobly slaine;
And gets him praise, though he has mist the prise.
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63
But happier Gondibert, who does surviveTo begg your Mercy, that he thus hath dar'd
To own that cause, for which the world might strive;
And conqu'ring, takes his wounds for his reward.
64
Be Hurgonil long distant from his Grave,Whose life was so important in this cause;
Who for each wound he took, a wider gave,
And lives t' enjoy the pleasure of applause.
65
To say, how Hugo and Lord Arnold stroveFor victorie, and mention their event,
Were to provide such fun'ral rites for Love,
As Death would be close Mourner, and repent.
66
Now Laura's blood back to her liver fled;True Beautie's Mint: For by her Heart, Love's Throne.
Beautie's call'd in, like Coyn when Kings are dead;
As if not currant now her Lover's gone.
67
And like her beauty, she had darkened life,But that with sprinckled water they restore
(By sodain cold, with sodain heat at strife)
Her spirits to those walks they us'd before.
68
She Arnold calls, then lost that name againe;Which Rhodalind, and Orna's teares bemone,
Who carefully would her spent strength sustaine,
Though Hope has scarcely yet brought back their owne:
69
Now they her Temples chas'd, and strait prepareHot Eastern Fumes to reach her Brains cool'd sence;
With Wine's fierce spirits these extracted are,
Which warme but slowly, though of swift expence.
70
Yet now again she breath'd Lord Arnold's name;VVhich her apt Tongue through custom best exprest;
Then to stay Life, that so unwilling came,
VVith Cordial Epithems they bath'd her breast.
71
Th' attendant Maids, by Tybalt's ready ayde,To stop her Mourners teares, convey her now
VVhere she may ease in her own Curtain's shade
Her weary heart, and grief more Tongue allow.
72
No sooner thus was pity'd Laura gon,But Oswald's sister, Gartha the renown'd!
Enters, as if the VVorld were overthrown,
Or in the teares of the afflicted drown'd.
73
Unconquer'd as her beauty was her minde;VVhich wanted not a spark of Oswald's fire;
Ambition lov'd, but ne'r to Love was kinde;
Vex'd Thrones did more then quiet shades desire:
93
74
Her Garments now in loose neglect she wore,As suted to her wilde dishevel'd haire;
Men in her shape might Natur's work adore,
Yet ask, why Art's nice dress was absent there?
75
But soon they found what made this change appear;For meeting Truth, which slowly follows Fame,
Rage would not give her leasure for a Teare
To quench (ere thus she spake) her passion's flame.
76
Blasted be all your beauties Rhodalind,Till you a shame, and terror be to light;
Unwing'd be Love, and slow as he is blind,
Who with your Looks poyson'd my Brothers sight!
77
Low and neglected be your Father's Throne,Which like your beauty, Oswald did o're-rate;
Let luckless war take Lands from his light Crown,
Till those high cares he want that gave it weight!
78
Let Pow'rs consumption be his long disease,Heav'n's vexing Curb, which makes wild Monarchs tame
And be he forc'd in froward age to please
His Favour's Monster, who devoures his Fame.
79
May you soon feel (though secret in your love,As if your love were Sin) the publick scorn!
May Gondibert, who is your glory, move
Your pittie, when none else but you shall mourn!
80
To the dark Inne (where weary Valor, freeFrom thankless dangers rests) brave Oswald's gone!
But Hubert may, though vanquish'd, live to see
Your Victor with his Victory undone!
81
This said, she mounts (with a tempestious Brow)The Charriot her Calabrian Coursers drew;
Lifted by Slaves, (who still about her bow)
As if with wings of swift revenge she flew.
82
To Brescia's Camp her course she had design'd;And bids her Char'ioter drive swiftly on,
As if his steeds were dieted with winde!
Slow seems their speed whose thoughts before them run.
83
The pav'd Streets kindle with her Chariot wheeles!The Omen of war's fire, the City spies,
Which with those sparks struck by her coursers heels,
Shine not so much as rage does in her Eies.
84
Those that observ'd her anger, grief, and haste,VVith a dejected melancholy mourn;
She seem'd their Cities Genius as she pass'd,
Who by their Sins expell'd, would ne'r return.
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85
The gentle Ladies, she has left in tears,Who no example need nor cause to melt;
For soon even grief's Alarms, our foremost fears,
Kill those whose pain by Love's quick sence is felt.
86
And Rhodalind her fatal love does blame,Because she finds it now by Gartha spy'd,
And does lament Love's fire, which bashful shame
Cannot reveal, nor her discretion hide.
87
She would not have it wast, nor publick grow;But last conceal'd like that in Tullia's Urne;
Or that which prosp'rous Chymists nicely show;
Which as it thrives, must more in private burn.
88
Yet strait (grown valiant with her Victors fate)She would have Hymen hold his Torches high;
And Love's fire pris'd, as Vestals theirs did rate;
Which none durst quench, though free to ev'ry Eie.
89
Resolves her love whilst this new valor lasts,Shall undisguis'd her Father's sight endure;
And Orna now to her dear Lover hastes;
Whose outward wounds stay for her inward cure.
90
But here a wonder may arrest our thought,Why Tybalt (of his usual pitty void)
To such sought Eares these direful sorrows brought,
Since to the King he onely was imploy'd?
91
But these are Ridles of misterious Love!Tybalt in private long for Laura pin'd;
And try'd how Arnold would her. passion move
In death, who living ever fill'd her minde?
92
And by this trial how she Arnold us'd,He wisely ment to urge or stay his heart;
But much by Love the Cautious are abus'd,
Who his wilde Ridles would reduce to Art.
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