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 |  |
134
Canto the Eighth.
The ARGUMENT.
Birtha her first unpractis'd Love bewailes,Whilst Gondibert on Astragon prevailes,
By shewing, high Ambition is of use,
And Glory in the Good needs no excuse.
Goltho a grief to Ulfinore reveales,
Whilst he a greater of his own conceales.
1
Birtha her griefs to her Apartment brought,Where all her Maids to Heav'n were us'd to raise
Their voices, whilst their busie Fingers wrought
To deck the Altar of the House of Praise.
2
But now she findes their Musick turn'd to care;Their looks allay'd, like beauty overworn;
Silent and sad as with'ring Fav'rites are,
Who for their sick indulgent Monarch mourn.
3
Thula (the eldest of this silenc'd Quire)When Birtha at this change astonish'd was,
With hasty whisper, begg'd her to retire;
And on her Knees, thus tells their sorrows cause.
4
Forgive me such experience, as too soon,Shew'd me unlucky Love; by which I guess
How Maids are by their innocence undon,
And trace those sorrows that them first oppress.
5
Forgive such passion as to speech perswades,And to my Tongue my observation brought;
And then forgive my Tongue, which to your Maids,
Too rashly carry'd, what Experience taught.
6
For since I saw this wounded stranger hereYour inward musick still untun'd has been;
You who could need no hope, have learnt to fear,
And practis'd grief, e're you did know to Sin.
7
This being love, to Agatha I told;Did on her Tongue, as on still Death rely;
But winged Love, she was too young to hold,
And, wanton-like, let it to others fly.
135
8
Love, who in whisper scap'd, did publick grow;Which makes them now their time in silence waste;
Makes their neglectected needles move so slow,
And through their Eies, their Hearts dissolve so faste.
9
For oft, dire tales of Love has fill'd their Heads;And while they doubt you in that Tyrant's pow'r,
The Spring (they think) may visit Woods and Meads,
But scarce shall hear a Bird, or see a Flow'r.
10
Ah how (said Birtha) shall I dare confesseMy griefs to thee, Love's rash, impatient Spie;
Thou (Thula) who didst run to tell thy guesse,
With secrets known, wilt to confession flie.
11
But if I love this Prince, and have in Heav'nMade any Friends by vowes, you need not fear
He will make good the feature, Heav'n has giv'n;
And be as harmless as his looks appear.
12
Yet I have heard, that Men whom Maids think kinde,Calm, as forgiven Saints, at their last Hour,
Oft prove like Seas, inrag'd by ev'ry winde,
And all to who their Bosoms trust, devour.
13
Howe're, Heav'n knows, (the witness of the Minde)My heart bears Men no malice, nor esteems
Young Princes of the common cruel kinde,
Nor Love so foul as it in Story seems.
14
Yet if this Prince brought Love, what e're it be,I must suspect, though I accuse it not;
For since he came, my medc'nal Huswiffrie,
Confections, and my Stills, are all forgot.
15
Blossoms in windes, Berries in Frosts may fall!And Flowers sink down in Rain! for I no more
Shall Maids to woods, for early gath'rings call,
Nor haste to Gardens to prevent a showre.
16
Then she retires; and now a lovely shameThat she reveal'd so much, possess'd her Cheecks;
In a dark Lanthorn she would bear Love's flame,
To hide her self, whilst she her Lover seeks.
17
And to that Lover let our Song return:Whose Tale so well was to her Father told,
As the Philosopher did seem to mourn
That Youth had reach'd such worth, and he so old.
18
Yet Birtha was so precious in his Eies,And her dead Mother still so neer his mind
That farther yet he thus his prudence tries,
Ere such a Pledg he to his trust resign'd.
136
19
Whoe're (said he) in thy first story looks,Shall praise thy wise conversing with the Dead;
For with the Dead he lives, who is with Books,
And in the Camp (Death's moving Palace) bred.
20
Wise Youth, in Books and Batails early findesWhat thoughtless lazy Men perceive too late;
Books shew the utmost conquests of our Mindes,
Batails, the best of our lov'd Bodys fate.
21
Yet this great breeding, joyn'd with Kings high blood(Whose blood Ambition's feaver over-heats)
May spoile digestion, which would else be good,
As stomachs are deprav'd with highest Meats.
22
For though Books serve as Diet of the Minde;If Knowledg, early got, self vallew breeds,
By false digestion it is turn'd to winde;
And what should nourish, on the Eater feeds.
23
Though Wars great shape best educates the sight,And makes small soft'ning objects less our care;
Yet War, when urg'd for glory, more then right,
Shews Victors but authentick Murd'rers are.
24
And I may fear that your last VictoriesWhere Glory's Toyles, and you will ill abide
(Since with new Trophies still you fed your Eies)
Those little objects which in Shades we hide.
25
Could you, in Fortunes smiles, foretell her frowns,Our old Foes slain, you would not hunt for new;
But Victors, after wreaths, pretend to Crowns;
And such think Rhodalind their Valor's due.
26
To this the noble Gondibert replies;Think not Ambition can my duty sway;
I look on Rhodalind with Subjects Eies,
Whom he that conquers, must in right obay.
27
And though I humanly have heretoforeAll beauty lik'd, I never lov'd till now;
Nor think a Crown can raise his value more,
To whom already Heav'n does Love allow.
28
Though, since I gave the Hunns their last defeat,I have the Lombards Ensignes onward led,
Ambition kindled not this Victor's heat,
But 'tis a warmth my Fathers prudence bred.
29
Who cast on more then Wolvish Man his Eie,Man's necessary hunger judg'd, and saw
That caus'd not his devouring Maledy;
But like a wanton whelp he loves to gnaw.
137
30
Man still is sick for pow'r, yet that diseaseNature (whose Law is temp'rance) ne'r inspires;
But 'tis a humor, which fond Man does please,
A luxury, fruition only tires.
31
And as in persons, so in publick States,The lust of Pow'r provokes to cruel Warre;
For wisest Senates it intoxicates,
And makes them vain, as single persons are.
32
Men into Nations it did first divide;Whilst place, scarce distant, gives them diff'rent stiles;
Rivers, whose breadth Inhabitants may stride,
Parts them as much as Continents, and Isles.
33
On equal, smooth, and undistinguish'd Ground,The lust of pow'r does liberty impair,
And limits by a Border and a Bound,
What was before as passable as Air:
34
Whilst change of Languages oft breeds a warre,(A change which Fashion does as oft obtrude
As womens dresse) and oft Complexions are,
And diff'rent names, no less a cause of feud.
35
Since Men so causelesly themselves devour;(And hast'ning still, their else too hasty Fates,
Act but continu'd Massacres for pow'r,)
My Father ment to chastise Kings, and States.
36
To overcome the world, till but one CrownAnd universal Neighbourhood he saw;
Till all were rich by that allyance grown;
And want no more should be the cause of Law.
37
One Family the world was first design'd;And though some fighting Kings so sever'd are,
That they must meet by help of Seas and Winde,
Yet when they fight 'tis but a civil warre.
38
Nor could Religion's heat, if one rul'd all,To bloody War the unconcern'd allure;
And hasten us from Earth, ere Age does call,
Who are (alas) of Heav'n so little sure.
39
Religion, ne'r till divers Monarchys,Taught that almighty Heav'n needs Armys ayd;
But with contentious Kings she now complies,
Who seem, for their own cause, of God's afraid.
40
To joyn all sever'd Powr's (which is to endThe cause of War) my Father onward fought;
By War the Lombard Scepter to extend
Till peace were forc'd, where it was slowly sought.
138
41
He lost in this attempt his last dear blood;And I (whom no remoteness can deterr,
If what seems difficult, be great and good)
Thought his Example could not make me err.
42
No place I merit in the Book of Fame!Whose leaves are by the Greeks and Romans fill'd;
Yet I presume to boast, she knows my name,
And she has heard to whom the Hunns did yield.
43
But let not what so needfully was done,Though still pursu'd, make you ambition feare;
For could I force all Monarchys to one,
That Universal Crown I would not weare.
44
He who does blindly soar at Rhodalind,Mounts like seel'd Doves, still higher from his ease;
And in the lust of Empire he may finde,
High Hope does better then Fruition please.
45
The Victor's solid recompence is rest;And 'tis unjust, that chiefs who pleasure shunn,
Toyling in Youth, should be in age opprest
With greater Toyles, by ruling what they wonn.
46
Here all reward of conquest I would finde;Leave shining Thrones for Birtha in a shade;
With Nature's quiet wonders fill my minde;
And praise her most, because she Birtha made.
47
Now Astragon (with joy suffic'd) perceiv'dHow nobly Heav'n for Birtha did provide,
Oft had he for her parted Mother griev'd,
But can this joy, less then that sorrow hide.
48
With teares, bids Gondibert to Heav'n's Eie makeAll good within, as to the World he seems;
And in gain'd Birtha then from Hymen take
All youth can wish, and all his age esteems.
49
Strait to his lov'd Philosophers he hies,Who now at Nature's Councel busy are
To trace new Lights, which some old Gazer spies;
Whilst the Duke seeks more busily his Starre,
50
But in her search, he is by Goltho stay'd;Who in a close dark Covert foldes his Armes;
His Eies with thoughts grow darker then that shade,
Such thoughts as yielding Breasts with study warmes.
51
Fix'd to unheeded object is his Eie!His sences he calls in, as if t'improve
By outward absence, inward extacie,
Such as makes Prophets, or is made by Love.
139
52
Awake (said Gondibert) for now in vainThou dream'st of Sov'raignty, and War's success;
Hope, nought has left, which Worth should wish to gain;
And all Ambition is but Hope's excess.
53
Bid all our Worthys to unarm, and rest!For they have nought to conquer worth their care;
I have a Father's right in Birtha's Breast,
And that's the peace for which the wise make warre.
54
At this starts Goltho, like some Army's Chief,Whom unintrench'd, a midnight Larum wakes;
By pawse then gave disorder'd sence relief,
And this reply with kindled passion makes.
55
What means my Prince to make so low a boast,Whose merit may aspire to Rhodalind?
For who could Birtha miss if she were lost,
That shall by worth the others treasure find?
56
When your high blood, and conquests shall submitTo such mean joys, in this unminded shade,
Let Courts, without Heav'n's Lamps, in darkness sit,
And War become the lowly Shepheard's Trade.
57
Birtha, (a harmless Country Ornament!)May be his Bride, that's born himself to serve;
But you must pay that blood your Army spent;
And wed that Empire which our wounds deserve.
58
This brought the Duke's swift anger to his Eies;Which his consid'rate Heart rebuk'd as faste;
He Goltho chid, in that he nought replies;
Leaves him, and Birtha seeks with Lovers haste.
59
Now Goltho mourns, yet not that Birtha's fair;Or that the Duke shuns Empire for a Bride;
But that himself must joyn love to despair;
Himself who loves her, and his love must hide.
60
He curs'd that him the wounded hither broughtFrom Oswald's Field, where though he wounds did scape
In tempting Death, and here no danger sought,
Yet here meet worse then Death in Beauty's shape.
61
He was unus'd to love, as bred in warres;And not till now for beauty leasure had;
Yet bore Love's load, as Youth bears other Cares;
Till new dispair makes Love's old weight too sad.
62
But Ulfinore, does hither aptly come,His second Breast, in whom his griefs excesse
He may ebb out, where they o'reflow at home;
Such griefs, as thus in Throngs for utt'rance press.
140
63
Forgive me that so falsly am thy Friend!No more our Hearts for kindness shall contest;
Since mine I hourly on another spend,
And now imbrace thee with an empty Brest.
64
Yet pard'ning me, you cancel Natur's fault;Who walks with her first force in Birtha's shape;
And when she spreads the Net to have us caught,
It were in youth presumption to escape.
65
When Birtha's grief so comely did appear.Whilst she beheld our wounded Duk's distresse;
Then first my alter'd Heart began to fear,
Least too much Love should friendship dispossesse;
66
But this whilst Ulfinore with sorrow hears,Him Goltho's busier sorrow little heeds;
And though he could replie in sighs and tears,
Yet governs both, and Goltho thus proceeds.
67
To Love's new dangers I have gone unarm'd;I lack'd experience why to be affraid;
Was too unlearn'd to read whom Love had harm'd;
But have his will as Nature's law obay'd.
68
Th' obedient and defencelesse, sure, no lawAfflicts, for law is their defence, and pow'r;
Yet me, Loves sheep, whom rigour needs not aw,
Wolf-Love, because defencelesse, does devour:
69
Gives me not time to perish by degrees,But with dispair does me at once destroy;
For none who Gondibert a Lover sees,
Thinks he would love, but where he may enjoy.
70
Birtha he loves; and I from Birtha fearDeath that in rougher Figure I despise!
This Ulfinore did with distemper hear,
Yet with dissembled temp'rance thus replies.
71
Ah Goltho! who Love's Feaver can asswage?For though familiar seem that old disease;
Yet like Religion's fit, when People rage,
Few cure those evils which the Patient please.
72
Natures Religion, Love, is still perverse;And no commerce with cold discretion hath,
For if Discretion speak when Love is fierce,
'Tis wav'd by Love, as Reason is by Faith.
73
As Gondibert left Goltho when he heardHis Saint profan'd, as if some Plague were nie;
So Goltho now leaves Ulfinore, and fear'd
To share such veng'ance, if he did not flie.
141
74
How each at home o're-rates his miserie,And thinks that all are musical abroad,
Unfetter'd as the Windes, whilst onely he
Of all the glad and licens'd world is aw'd?
75
And as Cag'd Birds are by the Fowler setTo call in more, whilst those that taken be,
May think (though they are Pris'ners in the Net)
Th' incag'd, because they sing, sometimes are free:
76
So Goltho (who by Ulfinore was broughtHere where he first Love's dangers did perceive
In Beauty's Field) thinks though himself was caught,
Th' inviter safe, because not heard to grieve.
77
But Ulfinore (whom Neighbourhood led here)Impressions took before from Birtha's sight;
Ideas which in silence hidden were,
As Heav'n's designes before the birth of Light.
78
This from his Father Ulfin he did hide,Who, strict to Youth, would not permit the best
Reward of worth, the Bosome of a Bride,
Should be but after Vertuous toyles possest.
79
For Ulfinore (in blooming honor yet)Though he had learnt the count'nance of the Foe,
And though his courage could dull Armys whet,
The care o're Crouds, nor Conduct could not know;
80
Nor varie Batails shapes in the Foes view;But now in forraigne Fields meanes to improve
His early Arts, to what his Father knew,
That merit so might get him leave to love.
81
Till then, check'd passion, shall not venture forth:And now retires with a disorder'd Heart;
Griev'd, least his Rival should by early'r worth
Get Love's reward, ere he can gain desert.
82
But stop we here, like those who day-light lack;Or as misguided Travailers that rove,
Oft finde their way by going somewhat back;
So let's return, thou ill Conductor Love!
83
Thy little wanton Godhead as my GuideI have attended many'a winter night;
To seek whom Time for honor's sake would hide,
Since in mine age sought by a wasted light,
84
But ere my remnant of Life's Lamp be spent,Whilst I in Lab'rinths stray amongst the Dead;
I mean to recollect the paths I went,
And judge from thence the steps I am to tread.
142
85
Thy walk (though as a common DeitieThe Croud does follow thee) misterious grows
For Rhodalind may now closs Mourner die,
Since Gondibert, too late, her sorrow knows.
86
Young Hurgonil above dear light prefersCalm Orna, who his highest Love outloves;
Yet envious Clouds in Lombard Registers
O'recast their Morn, what e're their Evening proves.
87
For fatal Laura, trusty Tybalt pines;For haughty Gartha, subtle Hermegild;
Whilst she her beauty, youth, and birth declines;
And as to Fate, does to Ambition yield.
88
Great Gondibert, to bashful Birtha bends;Whom she adores like Vertue in a Throne;
Whilst Ulfinore and Goltho (late vow'd Friends
By him) are now his Rivals, and their owne.
89
Through ways thus intricate to Lovers Urnes,Thou lead'st me Love, to shew thy Trophies past;
Where Time (less cruel then thy Godhead) mournes
In ruines which thy pride would have to last.
90
Where I on Lombard Monuments have readOld Lovers names, and their fam'd Ashes spy'd;
But less can learn by knowing they are dead,
And such their Tombes; then how they liv'd, and dy'd.
91
To Paphos flie! and leave me sullen here!This Lamp shall light me to Records which give
To future Youth, so just a cause of feare,
That it will Valor seem to dare to live!
| The works of Sr William Davenant | |