University of Virginia Library

The ARGUMENT.

Through the dark pathes of dusty Annals, we,
Led by his Valours light, return to see,
Argalia's story, who, hath since that Night,
Wherein he took that strange distracted flight,
From treacherous Ardenna perform'd a course
So full of threatning dangers, that the force
Of his protecting Angel, trembled to
Support his fate, which crackt the slander clew
Of destiny almost to death,; His stars
Doubting their influence, when such horrid wars
The Gods proclaym'd, withdrew their languish'd beams
Beneath Heavens spangled arch. In pitchie streams
The heavy clouds unlade their wombs, untill
The angrie windes fearing the floud should fill
The aire (their Region where they rul'd) did break
Their Marble Lodgings; Natures self grew weak
With these distemperatures, and seem'd to draw
Tow'rd dissolution, her neglected Law
Each Element forgot, th' imprisond flame
When the Clouds stock of moysture could not tame
Its violence, in Sulphry flashes break
Through th' glaring aire. The swolne clouds speak
In the loud voice of thunder; the sea raves
And foams with anger, hurls his troubled waves
High as the Moons dull Orb, whose waning light
Withdrew, to adde more terror to the night.

When the black curtain of this storm, that took
The use of Art away, had made them look
For nought but swift destruction, being so vain
For th' Marriners to row, that the proud main
Scornd to be lasht with Oars; to ease distresse
The night forsook them, but a day no lesse
Dreadfull succeeds it, by whose doubtfull light
The wretched Captives soon discover night
Near them a Turkish Navie; to whose aid
The Renegadoes (having first displaid
Their silver Crescents) joyn; Nor did they meet
That help untimely, a brave Rhodian Fleet
Set forth from those (the Christian Bulwarks) to
Obstruct the Turks Invasions, was in view.

To meet the threatning danger, which 'twas then
Too late to wave, that miracle of men
The brave Argalia, chain'd unto an oar
Is with a thousand noble Captives more
Forc'd to assist damn'd infidels; and now
The well-arm'd Fleets drew near, their swift keels plow
The Oceans angry front. First they salute
Each other with their Cannon, those grown mute
Come to more desperate fight, unfriendly bands
Unite their Vessels, the fierce Souldier stands
Firm on his Hatches, whilst another bords
His active enemies, whose Ship affords
No room for such unwelcome guests, but sends
Their scattered limbs into thin air; Each bends
His strength to's Foes destruction; plunging in
Which bloudy sweat, the Rhodians hopes had bin
Lost with their Fleet, had not kinde Fortune smil'd
Thus on their fear; whilest action had beguil'd
Each soul of passive cares, Argalia sees
A way t'unlock his rusty Chain, and frees
Himself and fellowes from their bank, which done,
Those that continued at their Oars, did run

The Vessel from the rest, and ere unto
Their sight betray'd, the trembling Pirates slew.
Then closing with their unsuspitious Foes
I'th vigour of the fight, they discompose
Their well rang'd Fleet, and such confusion strook
Into the van, to see their Rear thus shook
With an unlook'd for Hirrocane, that in
A fearfull haste the numerous Turks begin
To stretch their fins and flee, but all their speed
Was spent in vain, Argalia's hand had freed
So many Captives, that their Gallies must
Unto the windes uncertain favour trust
Or else becalm'd, but feebly crawl before
Their eager foes, who both with Sail and Ore
Chac'd them to ruine. Glorious Victory,
Thus to the Christian party being by
A stranger purchac'd, with such high applause
As those that rescue a declining cause
From the approach of ruine, welcom'd, he
Is now receiv'd into th' societie
Of the brave Christian order. But they not
Long joy'd in victory, ere the Turk to blot
The stayns of being conquer'd out had made
A mighty Army ready to invade
The valiant Rhodians, where Argalia shewes
So brave a spirit, their whole Army owes
His valour for example. The Turks had ought
Made desperate onslaughts on the Isle, but brought
Nought back but wounds and infamy, but now
Wearyed with toyle, they are resolv'd to bow
Their stubborn resolutions with the strength
Of not to be resisted want, the length
Oth' Chroncal disease extended had
To some few moneths, since to oppresse the sad
But constant Islanders, the Army lay
Circling their Confines. Whilest this tedious stay
From battail rusts the Soldiers valour in
His tainted Cabben, there had often bin
With all variety of Fortune fought
Brave single Combats, whose successe had brought
Honours unwither'd Lawrels on the brow
Of either party; but the ballance now
Forc'd by the hand of a brave Turk, inclin'd
Wholly to them, thrice had his valour shin'd
In victories refulgent rayes; thrice heard
The shouts of Conquest thrice on's Lance appear'd
The heads of noble Rhodians, which had strook
A general sorrow 'mongst the Knights, all look
Who next the Lists should enter, each desires
The task were his, but honour now requires
A spirit more then vulgar, or she dies
The next attempt, their valours sacrifice,
To prop whose ruines, chosen by the free
Consent of all Argalia comes to be
Their happy champion. Truce proclaym'd untill
The combat ends, th'expecting people fill
The spatious battlements, the Turks forsake
Their Tents, of whom the City Ladies rake
A dreadfull view, till a more noble sight
Diverts their looks, each part behold their Knight
With various wishes, whilest in bloud and sweat
They toyl for Victory, the Conflicts heat
Rag'd in their veins, which honour more inflam'd
Then burning Calentures could doe, both blam'd
The feeble influence of their Stars that gave
No speedier conquest, each neglects to save
Himself, to seek advantage to offend
His eager Foe. The dreadfull combats end
Nought but their losse of bloud proclaims their spirits,
In that Reflux of heat and life inherit
Valours unconqeer'd throne; but now so long
The Turks proud Champion had indur'd the strong
Assaults of the stout Christian, till his strength
Cool'd on the ground with's bloud, he fell at length
Beneath his conquering Sword. The barbarous crew
O'th Villains that did at a distance view
Their Champions fall, all bands of truce forgot,
Running to succour him, begin a hot
And desperate combate with those Knights that stand
To aid Argalia, by whose conquering hand
Whole squadrons of them fall, but here he spent
His mighty Spirit in vain, their Cannons rent
His scattered Troops, who for protection flie
To'th City Gates, but closely followed by
Their Foes did there for sad oblations fall
To dying liberty; their batter'd wall
Groan'd with the wondrous weight of Lead, and in
Its ruines hides her battlements, within
The bloudy streets the Turkish Crescents are
Displayd, whilst all the miseries of warre
Rag'd in Their Pallaces. The common sort
Of people make the barbarous Souldier sport.
In dieing, whilst those that survive them crave
Their fate in vain, here cruelty did save
And mercy only kill, since death set free
Those happier Souls from dire captivity.
At length the unrestrained Souldier tires
Although not satisfies his foul desires
With Rapes and Murder, when amongst those pore
Distressed Captives that from thence they bore,
Argalia lies in Chains, ordain'd to die
A sacrifice unto the cruelty
Of the fierce Bashaw, whose lovd favourite in
The Combate laye he slew, yet had not bin
In that so much unhappy, had not he
That honour'd then his Sword with victorie
Half-brother to Janusa been, a bright
But cruel Lady, whose refin'd delight
Her slave (though husband) Ammurat durst not
Ruffle with discontent; wherefore to cool that hot
Contention of her bloud, which he foresaw
That heavy newes would from her anger draw
To quench with the brave Christians death, he sent
Him living to her, that her anger spent
In flaming torments, might not settle in
The dregs of discontent. Staying to win
Some Rhodian Castles, all the Prisoners were
Sent with a guard into Sardinia, there
To meet their wretched thraldome, from the rest
Argalia sever'd, soon hopes to be blest
With speedy death, though waited on by all
The hell-instructed torments that could fall
Within inventions reach; But hee's not yet
Arriv'd to's period, his unmovd stars sit
Thus in their Orbs secured. It was the use
O'th Turkish pride, which triumphs in th' abuse
Of suffering Christians, once before they take
The ornaments of nature off, to make
Their prisoners publike to the view that all
Might mock their miseries, this sight did call
Janusa to her Palace window, where
Whilst she beholds them, love resolv'd to bear
Her ruine on her treacherous eye-beams, till
Her heart infected grew, their Orbs did fill
(As the most pleasing object) with the sight
Of him whose Sword opend a way for th' flight
Of her lov'd Brothers soul; At the first view
Passion had strook her dumb, but when it grew
Into desire, she speedily did send
To have his name, which known, hate did defend
Her heart, besieg'd with love, she sighs, and strait
Commands him to a dungeon, but loves bait
Cannot be so cast up, though to deface
His Image in her soule she strives: the place
For's execution, she commands to be
Gainst the next day prepared, but rest and she
Grow enemies about it, if she steal
A slumber from her thoughts, that doth reveal
Her passions in a dream, sometimes she thought
She saw her Brothers pale grim Ghost, that brought
His grizlie wounds to shew her, smeerd in bloud
Standing before her fight, and by that floud
Those red streams wept imploring vengeance, then
(Inraged) she cries, Oh let him die, but when
Her sleep imprison'd fancie, wandring in
The shades of darkned Reason, did begin
To draw Argalia's image on her soul,
Loves Soveraign power did suddenly controul
The strength of those abortive Embrio's, sprung
From smotherd anger. The glad birds had sung
A Lullaby to night, the Lark was fled
On drooping wings, up from his dewy bed
To fan them in the Rising Sun-beams, ere
Whose early raigne, Janusa that could bear
No longer lockt within her breast so great
An army of rebellious passions, beat
From Reasons conquerd Fortresse, did unfold
Her thoughts to Manto, a stout Wench, whose bold
Wit, joynd with zeal to serve her, had endeard
Her to her best Affections; having cleard
All doubts with hopeful promises her made,
By whose close wildes this plot must be convayd,
To secret action, of her councel makes
Two Evnuch Panders, by whose help she takes
Argalia from his Keepers charge, as to
Suffer more torments then the rest should do,
And lodg'd him in that Castle, to affright
And soften his great soul with fear, the light
Which lent its beams unto the dismal place,
In which he lay, without presents the face
Of horrour smeard in blood, a Scaffold built,
To be the Stage of Murther, blusht with guilt
Of Christian blood, by several torments let
From the imprisoning Veins; this Object set
To startle his Resolves, if good, and make
His future joyes more welcome, could not shake
The Heaven-built Pillers of his Soul, that stood
Steady, though in the slippery pathes of blood.
The gloomy Night now sate enthron'd in dead
And silent shadows, Midnight Curtains spread
The Earth in black, for what the falling day,
Had blusht in fire, whilst the brave Prisoner lay
Circl'd in darknesse, yet in those shades spends
The hours with Angels, whose assistance lends
Strength to the wings of Faith, which mounted on
The Rock of hope, was hovering to be gone
Tow'rds her eternal Fountain, from whose source,
Celestial Love enjoynd her lower course.

Whilst in this holy Extasie, his knees
Descent, did mount his heart to him that sees
His thoughts disvellop'd, whilst dull shades opprest
The drousie Hemisphear, whilst all did rest,
Save those whose actions blusht at day-light, or
Such wretched Souls whose sullen cares abhor
Truce, with refreshing slumbers, he beholds
A glimering light, whose neer approach unfolds
The Leaves of darknesse; whilst his wonder grows
Big with Amazement, the dim Tapour shews
What hand conveyd it thither, he might see
False Manto enterd, who prepard to be
A Bawd unto her lustful Mistresse came,
Not with perswasive Rhetorick t' inflame
A heart congeald with deaths approach, but thaw
Him from the frozen Rocks of rigid Law,
With brighter Constellations, that did move
In sphears, where every Star was fir'd with love.

The Siren yet to shew that she had left
Some modesty unrifl'd by the theft,
Of mercenary basenesse, sadly wept,
Her Errands Prologue, but guilt was not kept
Within the Curtain long, she only sate,
A Mourner for the sicknesse of his Fate,
Until esteemd for pitiful, and then
Prescribes this Remedy, Most blest of men,
Compose thy wonder, and let only joy
Dwel in thy Soul, my coming's to destroy,
Not nurse thy trembling Fears; be but so wise
To follow thy swift Fate, and thou mayst rise
Above the reach of danger, in thy Armes
Circle that power, whose radient brightnesse charms
Fierce Ammurat's anger, when his Crescents shine
In a full Orb of Forces, what was thine
Ere made a Prisoner, though the doubtful state
Of the best Christian Monarch, will abate
Its splendor, when (that Daughter of the Night)
Thy feeble Star shines in a Heaven of Light.

If Life, or Liberty then bare a shape
Worthy thy Courting, swear not to escape
By the attempts of strength, and I will free
The Iron bonds of thy Captivity.

A solemn Oath by that great power he serv'd,
Took and believ'd, his hopes no longer sterv'd
In expectation, from that swarthy seat
Of sad Despair, his narrow Jayl repleat,
With lazy Damps, she leads him to a Room,
In whose Delights Joyes Summer seemd to bloom;
There left him to the brisk Society
Of costly Bathes, and corsick Wines, whose high
And sprightly temper, from cool Sherbets found
A calm ally: here his harsh thoughts unwound
Themselves in pleasure, as not fearing Fate
So much, but that he dares to recreate
His Spirits (by unweildy Action tir'd)
With all that Lust into no Crime had fir'd.

By Mutes (those silent Ministers of sin)
His sullied Garments were remov'd, and in
Their place such various Habits layd, as pride
Would cloath her Favourites with, she means to hide
From those Deformities, which Accident
On Natures Issue, striving to prevent
Forms eaven progresse casts, when she would twine
That active Male with matter feminine.

Unruffl'd here by the rash Wearer rests
Fair Persian Mantles, rich Sclavonian Vests.
The gawdy Thuscan, or transmuted shape
Of the phantastick French, the British Ape,
The grave and constant Spaniard, all might here
Find Garments, such as Princes would appear,
To grace their honourd Nuptials in, or tell
Strangers how much their Treasure doth excell.

Though on this swift variety of Fate,
He looks with wonder, yet his brave Soul sate,
Too safe within her guards of Reason, to
Be shook with Passion; that there's some hing new
And strange approaching, after such a storm
This gentle Calm assures him, but the form
Of pleasure softens not, that which the other,
And worse extream, not with fears damps could smother.

He flies not with the rugged Separatist,
Pleasures smooth Walks, nor doth enjoying twist
Those threds of Gold to Fetters, he dares tast
All mirth, but what Religions stock would wast.
His Limbs (from Wounds but late recoverd) now
Refresht with liquid Odours did allow
Their suppl'd Nerves no softer rest, but in
Such Robes as wore their Ornament within,
Vaild o're their beauty; Linnen smooth, and soft,
As Phœnix Down, and whiter then what's brought
From furthest China be puts on, and then
What habit Custome made familiar, when
Cloathd in his own, makes choyce of for to be
Most honourd of that rich variety.

In an Italian Garb, to th' Dubblet clad,
Manto, Lusts swift and watchfull Spy that had
With an officious care attended on
That motion, entring, hasts him to be gone,
Tow'rd more sublim'd delights, which though a just
And holy doubt proclaim the road of Lust,
Knowing his better Angel did attend
Upon each step, he ventures to descend
The dreadful Precipiece so far, untill
The burning Vale was seen, then mounts the Hill
Of Heaven-bred Fortitude, from whence disdain,
Floods of contempt on those dark fires did rain.

His guilty Conduct now had brought him neer
Jhonusa's Room, the glaring Lights appear,
Through the Windows chrystal Wals, the strong
Perfumes of balmy Incense mixt among
The wandring Attomes of the Aire did fly,
Sights nimble Scouts, yet were made captive by
A flower sence, as if but to reveal
What breathd within, those Fugitives did steal,
Thorough their unseen Salliports, which now
Were uselesse grown, the open doors allow,
A free accesse into the Room, where come,
Such reall Forms he saw, as would strike dumb
Their Alcharons Tales of Paradice; the fair
And sparkling Jems ith' gilded Roof impair
Their Tapours fires, yet both themselves confesse,
Weak to those flames Jhonusa's eyes possesse.

With such a joy, as bodies that do long
For Souls shall meet them in the Doomsdayes throng,
She that rul'd Princes, though not Passions, sate
Waiting her Lover, on a Throne whose state
Epitomiz'd the Empires Wealth, her Robe
With costly pride had rob'd the checquerd Globe,
Of its most fair and orient Jewels, to
Inhance its value; captive Princes, who
Had lost their Crowns, might here those Jems have seen,
That did adorn them, yet she trusts not in
These Auxiliary strengths, her confidence
In her own Beauty rests, which no defence
Of Chastity ere yet withstood, and now
She scorns to fear it, when her power did bow
Unto a Slave condemnd, that nere could look
To see the sight, but whilst some torment took
The use of Eyes away, whilst he draws neer,
(By her command) no lesse it did appear,
Her wonder to behold his dauntlesse Spirit,
Then his, what Vertue to applaud as Merit.

Plac'd in a Seat neer her bright Throne, to stir
His settl'd thoughts, she thus begins; From her
Your Sword hath so much injur'd, as to shed
Blood so neer kin to mine, that it was fed
By the same milky Fountains, and within
One Womb warmd into life, is such a sin,
I could not pardon, did not Love commit
A Rape upon my Mercy, all the wit
Of man in vain Inventions, had been lost,
Ere thou redeemd, which now although it cost,
The price of all my Honours, I will do,
Be but so full of gratitude, as to
Repay my care with love: Why dost thou thus
Sit dumb to my discourse, it lies in us,
To raise, or ruine thee, and make my way
Thorough their bloods, that our Imbraces stay.

This on the spur of Passion spoke, she strains
His hand in hers, where feeling the big Veins,
Beat with intemperate heat, conceiving it
The strokes of Lust, to aggravate the Fit,
Into a Paroxisme of Guilt, she shews
(More then with modesty) how much she ows
To Natures Treasure, for that ill spent stock
Of Beauty she enjoyd, her Eyes unlock
Two Cabinets of sparkling Diamonds, which
The even foils of Ebbon brows enrich,
With a more Orient brightness; on her Cheek,
The Roses (conquering the pale Lilly) seek
To counterfeit a Blush, but vanquisht shame
Submits to Love, in whose insulting flame,
The modest Virgin a sad Martyr dies,
And at Fames wounds, bled Passions Sacrifice.

Natures embost work, her soft swelling breasts
(Those Bals of living Ivory) unprest,
Even with the Weight of Tiffany displayes,
Whitenesse that sham'd the Swans, the blood that straies
In Azure Channels over them did shew
By their sweld streams, how high the Tyde did flow,
Wherein her Passions saild; the milky way
Loves fragrant Valley that betwixt them lay,
Was moist with balmy Dew, extracted by
The busie Spirits that did hovering fly
Thorough her boyling blood, whose raging flame,
Had scortcht to death the April Flowers of shame.

To charm those sullen Spirits that within,
The dark Cells of his Conscience might have bin,
Yet by Religion hid, that Gift divine,
The Souls Composure, Musick did refine,
The lazy Aire, whose pollisht Harmony,
Whilst dancing in redoubled Ecchoes, by
A wanton Song was answerd, whose each part,
Invites the Hearing to betray the Heart.

Having with all these choice Flowers strewd the way
That leads to Lust, to shun the slow delay
Of his approach, her sickly Passions hast
To die in action; Come (she cries) we wast
The pretious Minutes, now thou knowst for what
Thou'rt sent for hither, which if active at,
Thou only liv'st in my esteem; and then
(O Impudence, which from the worst of men
Might force a Blush) she swiftly hasts to tread
Within Lusts Tropicks, her polluted Bed.

And here black sinner, thou, whose bloods disease,
Of kin to Hels, wants numbers to appease
Its flaming Callenture, blusht to behold
A Virgin Vertue, spotless leaves unfold
In youthful Volume, whilst thy ripe years spent,
In lust, hath lost thy Ages Ornament.

In this, as hot and fierce a Charge of Vice,
As (since he lost the field in Paradice)
Man ever felt; the brave Argalia sits,
With Vertue coold in Passions feaverish Fits:
Yet at Lifes Garrisons his Pulses beat,
In hot Alarums, till to a soft Retreat
Cal'd by that fair Commandresse spight of all
Beauties prevailing Rhetorick, though he fall,
Ruin'd beneath her anger, he by this
Unwelcome Language, her expected bliss,
Converts to rage; And must my freedome then
At such a rate be purchast, rather when
My life expires in Torments, let my Name
Forgotten die, then live in black-mouth'd Fame;
A servant to thy Lust, go tempt thy own
Dam'd Infidels to sin, that nere had known
The way to Vertue, not this cobweb Vail
Of beauty which thou wearst, but as a Jayl,
To a Soul, pale with guilt, can cover o're
Thy Minds deformities; a tainted Whore
Conscience proclaim thee will, when thou shalt sit,
Shook with this spotted Feavers trembling Fit.

(Rent from these gilded Pleasures) send me to
A Dungeon dark as Hell, where shadows do
Reign in eternal silence; Let these rich
And costly Robes (the gawdy Trappings) which
Thou meanst to cloath my sin in, be exchang'd
For sordid Rags; when thy fierce spleen hath rang'd
Through all invented torments, choose the worst
To punish my denial, less accurst,
I so shall perish, then if by consent
I'de taught thy guilty thoughts how to augment
Their sins in action, and by giving ease
To thy bloods Feaver, took its loathd disease.

To have the spring-tyde of her pleasures, sweld
By Lusts salt waters, thus by force expeld
Back to Confusions troubl'd Sea, had made
Such troops of Passion ready to invade,
An ill defended Conscience, that her look
Like a cast Felons, out of hopes of th' book;
Was sad with silent guilt; the Room she leaves
To her Contemner, who not long receives
The benefit of rest, she that had been
The Prologue unto this obstructed sin,
With six arm'd Slaves was enterd, thence to force
Him to his dismal Jayl, but the Divorce
Of life, from those which first approacht, joynd to
The others flight had put her to renew
That scatterd strength, had not that sacred tye
(His solemn Oath) from Laureld Victory,
Snatcht the fair wreath, and though brave Valour strives
To reach at Freedome through a thousand Lives:
At her Command more tamely made him yield,
Then conquerd Virgins in the Bridal Field.