The History of Polindor and Flostella With Other Poems. By I. H. [i.e. John Harington] The third Edition, Revised and much Enlarged |
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 | The History of Polindor and Flostella |  |
These Cut-throat Roagues, far-straglers, most of whom
Were once that false Brundescar's Men, the scum
Of that base Villains fry (whom his Moor-slave,
Vext through his torturings at length, grown brave
Through Fury, chanc't to murther, Stab, when lying
In's Summer-house (though mark'd howe're for dying,
Since should have been that Even as Traytor seiz'd)
These Ruffian-villains, for long time profess'd
Grim Landlords of the Road, now growing poor,
Sought hunted for, slunk hither th' Ev'n before;
Meaning next day, some Port marine attain'd,
To turn Sea robbers all, th' unfriendly Land
Less favouring them. Thus, greedy of prize and blood
Scouting along they saw where took the Wood
Young Floris, out of reach; more silent then
More Mute, by fits; thought-bury'd (Wretch of men!)
Seeking new distant Quarters, dismall Shades
Dark as his cloudy'd Brest: Each roundly invades
That same Path, dog'd the Lover, soft as Ayr
(Still big with Sullen thoughts, Profound dispayr)
For Booty: though conceiv'd, some Lodge close by
Might mend their single Prize. Till now, drawn nigh,
He entring just within the door oth' Green
All leapt upon him, where (swords, hearts too keen)
Thrust forth by Stabs his noysless, musing Soul
Through bleeding Doors: the Corps then softly stole
(Born fullest length 'twixt two) yet somewhat lower
Cross-green, ith' Ladies view, whilst his Brest bore
That Rol'd cap, Faulchion both; there hasty lay'd,
Whilst carry'd him to th' next entombing Shade.
As for that Role, with dangling flap, 'twas still
Worn by those Shepheard-swains of birth gentile,
As choyce distinct Badge; such still wore Polind;
Although had left (indeed) his own behind
For th' Hermits meaner Hat, chang'd just at door
When going forth, though less observ'd by her:
That naked Faulchion one oth' Theeves did claim;
And that Arm-ribbon (worn) kind Favour came
Long since from his Belov'd, Cressa the fair.
Through all these Marks his comelyer youth, his hair,
Stature, time, place concurring; sadder Dreams,
Love-fears too, 'twas Polindor's Corps she deems:
Hid more awhile through double Night, her passion,
And that dark Shade to boot. Thus, hasty fashion
Their Corps thrown down, one spying strait the Cell
(More booty promis'd whence) conceiving well
This for true Owner; falling back, they All
Wheel'd more about (unseen) to th' blind side wall
By th' shaded Pond; till, just the door ope passing,
All seiz'd her Pris'ner thus, to th' Souls amazing.
Were once that false Brundescar's Men, the scum
Of that base Villains fry (whom his Moor-slave,
Vext through his torturings at length, grown brave
Through Fury, chanc't to murther, Stab, when lying
In's Summer-house (though mark'd howe're for dying,
Since should have been that Even as Traytor seiz'd)
These Ruffian-villains, for long time profess'd
Grim Landlords of the Road, now growing poor,
Sought hunted for, slunk hither th' Ev'n before;
Meaning next day, some Port marine attain'd,
To turn Sea robbers all, th' unfriendly Land
Less favouring them. Thus, greedy of prize and blood
Scouting along they saw where took the Wood
Young Floris, out of reach; more silent then
More Mute, by fits; thought-bury'd (Wretch of men!)
Seeking new distant Quarters, dismall Shades
Dark as his cloudy'd Brest: Each roundly invades
That same Path, dog'd the Lover, soft as Ayr
(Still big with Sullen thoughts, Profound dispayr)
For Booty: though conceiv'd, some Lodge close by
Might mend their single Prize. Till now, drawn nigh,
He entring just within the door oth' Green
All leapt upon him, where (swords, hearts too keen)
Thrust forth by Stabs his noysless, musing Soul
Through bleeding Doors: the Corps then softly stole
(Born fullest length 'twixt two) yet somewhat lower
Cross-green, ith' Ladies view, whilst his Brest bore
That Rol'd cap, Faulchion both; there hasty lay'd,
Whilst carry'd him to th' next entombing Shade.
109
Worn by those Shepheard-swains of birth gentile,
As choyce distinct Badge; such still wore Polind;
Although had left (indeed) his own behind
For th' Hermits meaner Hat, chang'd just at door
When going forth, though less observ'd by her:
That naked Faulchion one oth' Theeves did claim;
And that Arm-ribbon (worn) kind Favour came
Long since from his Belov'd, Cressa the fair.
Through all these Marks his comelyer youth, his hair,
Stature, time, place concurring; sadder Dreams,
Love-fears too, 'twas Polindor's Corps she deems:
Hid more awhile through double Night, her passion,
And that dark Shade to boot. Thus, hasty fashion
Their Corps thrown down, one spying strait the Cell
(More booty promis'd whence) conceiving well
This for true Owner; falling back, they All
Wheel'd more about (unseen) to th' blind side wall
By th' shaded Pond; till, just the door ope passing,
All seiz'd her Pris'ner thus, to th' Souls amazing.
| The History of Polindor and Flostella | |