The Poetical Works of Henry Brooke :: :: University of Virginia Library

The Poetical Works of Henry Brooke

... In Four Volumes Octavo. Revised and corrected by the Original Manuscript With a Portrait of the Author, and His Life By Miss Brooke. The Third Edition

Brooke, Henry (1703?-1783)

II.

CONSTANTIA:

IV.

VOL. IV.

Collapse All | Expand All expand section

253

CONSTANTIA:

OR, The MAN of LAW's TALE,

Modernized from CHAUCER.

255

Hence Want, ungrateful visitant, adieu!
Pale empress hence, with all thy meager crew—
Sour Discontent, and mortified Chagrin,
Lean hollow Care, and self-corroding Spleen;

256

Distress and Woe, sad parents of Despair,
With wringing hands, and ever rueful air;
The tread of Dun, and Bum's alarming hand,
Dire as the touch of Circe's circling wand;
Keen Hunger with his sharp but famish'd eye,
And dusky Theft, a desperate prompter nigh;
While agues shudder to the whistling gale,
And jointly Law and Infamy assail!
But worse, O worse, than all the hideous train,
Hot-mouth'd Reproach, and saucy writhed Disdain!
These in the rear of thy assembly wait;
Still point the anguish, and augment the weight.

The worst oppression, who, ah! who could bear,
If Virtue, hovering angel, was not there?
Where Poverty her blasting progress bends,
The Goddess with superior wing attends:
Around the Fair her blest associates play,
Bask in her eye, and whiten in her ray—
Bright Purity, with firm unalter'd cheek,
The mild, the kind, the gentle, and the meek;
Humility's benignly placid grace,
And Innocence with sweet seraphic face;

257

Calm Piety that smiles amidst the storm,
And Charity with boundless wishes warm.

Bold in the front, to guard the Heavenly Band,
Behold the masculine adherents stand!
Patience, with Atlantean shoulders spred;
Hail Temperance, on thrifty viands fed;
Firm Fortitude, unknowing how to yield;
And Perseverance with his batter'd shield;
And honest Industry, whose early toil
Wins health and plenty from the labour'd soil.
The genuine Arts behind the Goddess wait,
Her reign illustrate, and improve her state:
With eye elate here Contemplation soars,
And Learning piles his intellectual stores;
Here mental sciences arranging shine;
Here manual crafts the various task design;
While Diligence the busy finger plies,
And wing'd, from rank to rank, Invention flies.

258

Such wide extremes on Indigence attend!
There Vice assails, the Virtues here defend:
Below, the gloom of every passion storms;
Above, calm Virtue moderates and reforms;
Here, highly elevate; there, deep depress;
And give, or bliss, or anguish, in excess.

Hail Virtue! Chaste Eternal Beauty, hail!
Still on the foe, O Goddess, still prevail!
The world, e're framed, lay open to thy view;
You form'd the whole, and shall again renew!
E're I thy arduous pleasing toils decline,
Be Want, ah, still be each disaster mine;
Till even Oppression be itself subdued,
Nor yet a wish for wealth or power intrude!

Nor be the Poor alone thy favourite care;
Fly, fly to courts, and let the Mighty share!

259

The silken lethargy at once awake;
Debauch from his intemperate opiate shake;
Thence every vice, and every folly drive,
That sting or glitter round the gorgeous hive.
Before thy touch let Insolence retire,
And Vanity, an empty breath, expire;
Hypocrisy cast off the fair disguise,
And starting in his native gloom arise.

Now, Goddess, entering, view the dome of state!
Do thou inform, and give me to relate;
Let demons obvious to my eye appear,
(Which known, could sure find no admittance here.)
Amid the buzzing, busy, idle croud,
The mix'd assembly of the mean and proud,
See, Treason smiles, a suitor to his king;
See, Promise flutters on a Cypress wing;
Her pinion like autumnal foliage falls,
And on the pavement Disappointment crawls.

260

A friendly aspect Enmity assumes;
Beneath applause, deep lurking Envy glooms;
The tempting mammon Subornation shows;
And in the patriot's zeal Dissention glows.

Oppression there with gently winning grace,
And Ignorance with solemn thinking face,
And Pride with mortified and Christian guise,
And Infidelity with saintly eyes,
Four rival-candidates, their monarch sue;
Two for the Bench, and for the Mitre two.

Lo there Ambition, from his height elate!
And Pleasure lolling on a couch of state!
On these the pageantry of pomp attends;
To these the idolizing tumult bends;

261

The poor, the rich, the peasant, and the peer,
And all religions, join in worship here.
Ambition, reaching from his airy stand,
Grasps at a globe that shuns his desperate hand:
Around the glittering sphere, confusedly gay,
Crowns, truncheons, gems, and trophied radiance lay;
But changing with alternate light and shade,
The lures appear, and vanish, shine, and fade;
Vain as the cloudy meteor of the morn,
Which fancy forms, and transient rays adorn.

The prime rewards four suppliant sons of fame,
Lust, Rapine, Violence, and Slaughter, claim;
And tho' essential happiness is due,
For toys the Wise, for toys the Virtuous sue.
Deluded men, the ready ambush fly!
Dire lurking deaths behind Ambition lie—
The mourning block, keen axe, and racking wheel,
The poison'd goblet, and the bosom'd steel!

Here Pleasure on her velvet-couch reclines,
Smiles to undo, and in destruction shines;

262

With seeming negligence displays her charms;
The strong she withers, and the steel'd disarms.
Imagination, specious handmaid, waits,
And serves a pomp of visionary cates:
The Sorceress still essays the fresh repasts;
But mock'd eternally, she feeds, and fasts.
Around her couch unnumber'd votaries meet,
And wish to share the imaginary treat;
Devour each morsel with desiring eye,
And for large draughts of fancied nectar sigh:
A thousand nymphs of wanton sprightly mien,
Trip round the sofa, and amuse their Queen;
With transport she surveys the darling train,
All daughters of her light fermenting brain:
Here Laughter, Mirth, and Dalliance unite,
Illusive Joy, and volatile Delight,
Conceits, sports, gambols, titillations gay,
Hopes that allure, and projects that betray.
Prime sister of the inessential bands,
Erect, persuasive Expectation stands;
On each pursuit she flourishes with grace,
And gives a butterfly to lead the chace;
Or wafts a bubble on the parting gale,
And bids surrounding multitudes assail;

263

With sweets the fond pursuit alone is fraught,
The game still vanishes, when once it's caught:
Vain is the joy—but not the anguish vain;
And empty pleasure gives essential pain:
Couch'd as a tyger, watchful to surprize,
Grim Death beneath the false enchantress lies;
The fiends around invisibly engage,
Guilt stings, pains rack, and disappointments rage;
Aches, asthmas, cholicks, gouts, convulsions, rheums,
Remorse that gnaws, and languor that consumes.

Far other train, Apparent Queen! you lead;
True bliss attends, tho' arduous toils precede:
Serene thy bosom, tho' thy brow severe;
Pain points thy path, but Heaven is in thy rear.
Wondrous the influence thy power supplies,
Where triumphs only from oppression rise;
Peace springs from passion, and from weakness might;
Calm ease from travel, and from pain delight;
No sweets that vanish, and no gusts that cloy—
Clear is the rapture, and serene the joy;
Reflection culls from every labour past,
And gives the same eternal bliss to last.

264

Thus, by long trial, and severe distress,
You, Virtue! truely, tho' severely, bless;
Thro' each tradition, each recorded page,
Thro' every nation, and thro' every age,
From purpled monarchs to the rural hind,
By pain you purified, by toil refined:
The mightier weight thy favourite heroes bore;
Chief you depress'd, whom chief you meant should soar;
Still with the foe gave forces to prevail,
And with this Moral form'd the following Tale.

While yet the Turk his early claim avow'd,
And ruled beneath his scepter, Judah bow'd;
A set of worthy wealthy merchants chose
The world for trade, and Sion for repose.
Here they select the gems of brightest rays,
Rich stuffs, wrought silks, and golden tissues blaze;

265

Thro' every climate, and to every gale,
They launch the cargo, and expand the sail:
Wide, with their name, their reputation grew,
And to their mart concurring chapmen drew.

The lure of novelty, and thirst of gain,
Now points their passage o'er the Midland-main;
The Tiber now their spumy keels divide,
And stem the flow of his descending tide.
To Rome, imperial Rome, the traders came;
Rome heard the voice of their preceding fame:
Free mart and splendid mansion she affords;
Joy crown'd their nights, and elegance their boards.

With mutual chat they gratify desire,
What's curious now relate, and now enquire;

266

Alike for knowledge, and for wealth they trade,
And are with usury in both repaid.
But Fame surprized them with a wonder new,
Beyond what times of brightest record drew,
The poet's fancy, or the lover's tongue;
And thus the Darling Excellence she sung.

To crown our monarch's age with fond delight,
His cares alleviate, and his toils requite,

267

Beyond whate'er paternal wish could crave,
Indulgent Heaven a peerless Infant gave:
The softer sex her beauteous body forms,
But her bright soul each manly virtue warms;
Youth without folly, greatness without pride,
And all that's firm to all that's sweet allied.
Rich as the land by sacred promise blest,
Lies the fair vale of her expanded breast;
Mild on a Parian pillar turns her head,
Her front, like Lebanon, divinely spread;
There sit the Chaste, the Placid, and the Meek,
And morn smiles fresh upon her open cheek.
Babes learn distinction at Constantia's sight,
And wither'd age revives to strange delight;
Tumultuous wishes breathe along her way,
Hands rise, tongues bless, and centering eyes survey;
All run to bend the voluntary knee,
The blind to hear her, and the deaf to see.
Ah! were she born to universal sway,
How gladly would the willing world obey?

268

And now with wealthy manufacture stow'd,
Launch'd on the tide their freighted vessels rode;
The pendants vainly point the favouring gale,
Court the weigh'd anchor, and the opening sail,
Till first the Fair Perfection they beheld,
Who all report, in fatal hour, excell'd:
For Syria then they ply the labouring oar,
And the crook'd keels divide their native shore.

Exulting now they touch the favourite land,
Unlade, and moor along the yielding strand.
Now duteous, on their youthful Sultan wait,
Unfold new treasures, and new tales relate.

269

With usual grace, and curious ear he hears;
With usual courtesy, and bounty cheers;
The strange, the wondrous narrative admires,
And all that's foreign, all that's new requires.

Ah, hapless prince, thy further search restrain;
Couch'd in the tale, death lurks to entertain!
Constantia's charms their raptured tongues disclose;
In every word some kindling beauty glows;
Her form, her features, mien, and soul they breathe,
Unpraise all praise, and leave all terms beneath.

Strong Eloquence can picture to the blind,
Create new forms, and people all the mind;

270

Can pain or mitigate, can heal or wound,
Enchant with sentences, and kill with sound.
The fancied sweets his ear impatient drinks;
Deep on his soul the Imaged Beauty sinks;
Thro' all his thoughts, his powers, she lives, she reigns,
Pants in each pulse, and thrills along his veins.

Sure, thro' the tracts of yon' celestial maze,
Where mystic planets dance, and glories blaze;
More wonders typical impress the sky,
Than e'er was traced with astrologic eye!
There haply, e're his natal hour exprest,
First burn'd the flame that glowed within his breast:

271

There might the Nymph with previous beauty bloom,
With previous languishment the Youth consume;
Expire the victim of successless care;
Die e're he lived, and e're he loved despair.
There the dear friendly stream, e're Julius bled,
Great Brutus to his dearer country shed;
With destined tyranny there Pride enslaves,
With destined virtue there the Patriot saves;
There Pompey glow'd for freedom and for fame,
There Socrates, of Greece the pride and shame:
Alcides there each horrid monster slew;
There triumph'd Sampson, the heroic Jew;
There All, or doom'd to save, or to destroy,
The chiefs who fought at Thebes, or fought at Troy!

Long mourn'd the Youth, with secret woe opprest;
The latent vulture prey'd within his breast:

272

Constrain'd at length, nor able to sustain
The wasting malady, and mental pain;
The sage the bearded pillars of his state
He calls, and privily unfolds his fate:
“No mean,” he cries, “my cruel stars assign;
“Swift death, or else Constantia must be mine!”

Alternate, each their hopes, or fears disclose,
Invent, reject, and now again propose;
While some with mystic rites of wondrous art,
Engage to gain the sympathetic heart;
By philter'd science, and infernal charms,
To win the Bright Perfection to his arms:
The abhorrent scheme his generous thoughts disdain,
Resolved to die, or justly to obtain;

273

And all their arguments, howe'er renew'd,
In rites of nuptial sanctitude conclude.
But here again new obstacles appear'd,
And much for this their latest hope they fear'd;
Fear'd, that diversity of faith, might prove
Alike diversity, and breach in love;
Nor the Fair Christian e'er consent to wed
A prince in Macon's sacred precepts bred.
The monarch then, “Ah! wherefore doubt, my friends;
“Why yet dispute where love and life depends?

274

“That faith must sure have most prevailing charms,
“That gives Constantia to my circling arms:
“No obstacles shall bar, no doubts deter;
“Nor will I think, that she was form'd to err.”

The voice determined, and imperial eye,
Leave no pretence for courtiers to reply:
With the fond speed of Love's impatience warm'd,
Now embassies are sent, and treaties form'd.
All zealous to promote the cause divine,
The pope, the church, and christian powers combine;
The royal long-reluctant parents yield,
And contracts are by mutual proxy seal'd.

275

High was the trust the regal writings bore,
And solemn the attesting parties swore,
That the young Syrian, and his barons bold,
Each sex and state, the infant and the old,
Should all Messiah's hallow'd faith embrace,
And bright Constantia be the bond of grace.

We list not here of pompous phrase to say,
What order'd equipage prepares the day;

276

Grooms, prelates, peers, and nymphs, a shining train,
To wait the beauteous Victim o'er the main:
All Rome attend in wish the lovely Maid;
And Heaven their universal vows invade.

At length the day, the woful day arrives,
And every face of wonted cheer deprives;
The fatal hour admits no fond delay,
That shall the joy from every heart convey.
Ye men of Rome! your parting glory mourn;
Far from your sight your Darling shall be torn;
No more the morn with usual smiles arise,
Or with Constantia bless your longing eyes,
Of every tongue, of every pen the theme,
The daily subject, and the nightly dream!

277

But, O Constantia! say, thou fair distrest,
What woes that hour thy lovely soul possest?
Its native cheek the bright carnation fled,
And charg'd with grief reclined thy beauteous head;
To lands unknown those limbs must now repair,
Nurs'd in the down of fond paternal care.
Peace spread thy nightly couch to sweet repose,
Delight around thy smiling form arose,
Each scene familiar to thy eye appear'd,
And custom long thy native soil endear'd:
Eas'd by thy bounty, at thy sight exiled,
Grief was no more, or in thy presence smiled;
Each rising wish thy glad attendants seiz'd;
To give thee pleasure, every heart was pleas'd:
But now to strange to foreign climes convey'd,
Strange objects must thy loathing sense invade,
Strange features to thy weeping eyes appear,
Strange accents pierce thy undelighted ear;

278

In distant unacquainted bondage tied,
The gilded slave of insolence and pride,
Perhaps of form uncouth, and temper base,
Thy lord shall clasp thee with abhorr'd embrace.

Thus sad the Fair revolv'd; soft sorrows flow,
And all her sighing soul was loos'd to woe:
“Father!”—she cried,” your fond, your wretched child!—
“And you, my mother! you, my mother mild!—
“My parents dear, beneath whose kindly view,
“Blest by whose looks, your cherish'd infant grew;

279

“When far, O far from your embraces torn,
“Will you then think a wretch like me was born?
“Shall then your child some sad remembrance claim?
“And some dear drops embalm Constantia's name?
“Your face—ah cruel fortune, can it be?—
“These eyes shall never, never, never see!
“For ever parted by the rolling main,
“I now must feel a lordly husband's chain;
“From every friend, from every joy remove,
“And the rough yoke of rude barbarians prove:
“But so may Heaven the precious issue bless,
“And all find happiness through my distress!
“Woman was doom'd, ere yet the world began,
“The prey of sorrow, and the slave of man.”

She could no more; her voice by sobs supprest,
And tears pour'd forth in anguish, told the rest.

280

Wide through the croud the sad contagion flew;
Each hoary beard is drench'd with mournful dew;
In shortening throbs ten thousand bosoms rise,
Grief showers its tempest from ten thousand eyes;

281

Along the shore the deepening groans extend,
And louder shrieks the cloudy concave rend:
Not through old Rome when desolation reign'd,
And bleeding senators her forum stain'd;
Not in the wreck of that all dismal night,
When Ilion tumbled from her towery height;
Such uttering plaints the deep despair betray'd,
As now attend the dear departing Maid.

To the tall ship, with slow desponding tread,
All drown'd in grief the Beauteous Victim's led:
She turn'd, and with an aching wistful look,
A long farewel of every field she took;
“Adieu!” to all the melting croud she cried—
“Adieu! Adieu!” the melting croud replied;

282

Her launching bark the mournful notes pursue,
And echoing hills return, “Adieu! Adieu!”

Here let us leave the Virgin on the main,
With all her peerage, and her pompous train;
To Syria let the swifter muse repair,
And say what cheer prepares her welcome there.

The Dame, from whom his birth the Prince derived,
Imperial Dowager, had yet survived:
Ambitious, greedy of supreme controul,
And born with all the tyrant in her soul,
At filial government she long repined,
Nor yet the reins of secret rule resigned.
Her savage sentiments her sex belied,
And versed in wiles with deepest statesmen vied;
Yet o'er her softning tongue, and soothing face,
The subtle varnish spread with easy grace:

283

The Sage discern'd, but still confest her sway;
And whom their hearts detest, their fears obey.
Tenacious zeal her Prophet's lore revered,
The practice scorn'd, but to the text adhered;
And far as faith with fury could inflame,
She was indeed a most religious dame.

When she her Son's determin'd bent perceived,
Her breast with cruel agitation heaved;
Her call, each hoary, each experienced friend,
In haste, and midnight privacy, attend;
When dire, amid the dusky throng she rose,
And from her tongue contagious poison flows.

“Ye peers, ye pillars of our falling state!
“Too faithful subjects of a Prince ingrate;

284

“A Son, whom these detesting breasts have fed,
“A serpent grown, to your destruction bred!
“Say, shall a single hand such patriots awe?
“Insult your Prophet, and supplant your Law?
“First, Heaven! be all the bonds of nature broke,
“E'er I assume the curs'd, the Christian yoke:
“For, what import these innovating rites,
“But here a living death of all delights?
“Such threats as penitence can ne'er appease,
“The body's penance, and the mind's disease?—
“Yet, were I of some faithful hearts secure,
“Not such the malady, but we can cure.”

She spoke, and all with swift compliance swear,
The glorious deed with all their powers to dare;
Her charge though ne'er so bloody to fulfill,
Though ne'er so dangerous to effect her will.

285

“Doubt not a birth,” she cried, “so well conceived,
“Great acts are more by fraud, than force atchieved;
“To gain the conquest we must seem to yield,
“And feign to fly that we may win the field.
“Let each in public wear a Christian face,
“And counterfeit the saintly signs of grace:
“What though our skin the sprinkling priest baptize?
“Our skin's unsullied, while our hearts despise.
“Not such the tricks our bolder hands shall play,
“When revels end the unsuspecting day;
“Nor such the stream our purpling points shall shed,
“When we shall, in our turn, baptize with red.

286

Ah sex! still sweet, or bitter, to extreme;
Gloomy as night, or bright as morning beam!
No fiend's may with a female's wrath compare;
No angel's purity, like woman's fair!
To save or damn, for bliss or ruin given,
Who has thee feels a hell, or finds a Heaven.

Smooth as the surface of the dimpled main,
While brooding storms the gathering ruin rein,

287

Her son, with dire dissembling leer she seeks,
And in the depth of smiling malice speaks.

“My child! tho' froward age is over wise,
“Let no offence against a parent rise;
“Long habits gain a privilege from time,
“And frequent custom mellows every crime:
“Repugnant hence I dared to thwart your will;
“I fear'd the novelty, I fear'd the ill:
“But now, convinced by Christ's superior grace,
“His law I reverence, and his faith embrace.
“Blest be thy bed! thy bridal transports blest!
“Nor you refuse a mother's fond request—
“Mine be the joy to entertain the Fair;
“To form the festival, be mine the care;

288

“To show the peers who on thy bride attend,
“As she in beauty, we in love transcend.”

The Royal Youth in silent wonder stood;
Joy held his voice, and rapture thrill'd his blood:
Around her knees his prostrate arms he threw,
And duteous tears distill'd the grateful dew:
Her son she rais'd, all innocent of ill,
And smiling kist whom soon she meant to kill.

At length the Bride, and all her solemn train,
Past o'er the danger of the Midland-main:
The Main is past, but not the danger o'er;
The sea less cruel than the Syrian shore!

289

Applauding crouds the landed Beauty greet,
And Judah's peers in rich procession meet;
Great was the throng, and splendid the array,
And guards arranging lined the glittering way.
Such were the triumphs of imperial Rome,
When conquest led some darling victor home;
While meeting millions his approach withstand,
And walls, and trees, and clamber'd roofs, are mann'd.

All gem'd in ornaments of curious mode,
Gay in the van, the false Sultana rode;
Oft to her breast she clasp'd the Heavenly Maid,
And wondring oft with cruel gaze survey'd.

290

Last came the Sultan, royal, hapless youth,
Grace in his form, and in his bosom truth!
The last he came, for timorous love controll'd,
He fear'd, and long'd, and trembled to behold:
A faint salute his faultering voice supplied;
Scarce, “Welcome! O divinely fair!” he cried.
He blush'd, and sigh'd, and gazed with wavering view,
Nor dared to hope the blissful vision true.

Thus onward to a neighbouring town they fared,
In purposed pomp, and regal state prepared;
And here the old maternal fiend invites,
To order'd feasts, and dearly bought delights.

291

Down sit the guests, triumphing clarions blow,
Drums beat, mirth sings, and brimming goblets flow;
In boundless revel every care is drown'd,
And Clamour shouts, and Freedom laughs around.

Ah hapless state of every human mind,
Wrapt in the present, to the future blind!
In the gay vapour of a lucky hour,
Light Folly mounts, and looks with scorn on power:
Nor sees how swift the tides of fortune flow,
The swelling happiness, and ebbing woe;
That man, should ne'er indulge, or bliss, or care,
The Prosperous triumph, or the Wretch despair;
So close, so sudden, each reverse succeeds,
And Mischief treads where'er Success precedes.

292

And now the night, with brooding horrors still,
Gloom'd from the brow of each adjacent hill;
Slow heaved her bosom with distemper'd breath,
And o'er her forehead hung the weights of death.
Opprest with sleep, and drown'd in fumy wine,
The prostrate guards their Regal Charge resign;
But far within, still wakeful to delight,
The Prince and peers protract the festal night—
When from the portal, lo! a sudden gloom
Projects its horrors through the spacious room:
Fearful and dark the russian bands appear,
The dire Sultana storming in the rear.
The bloody task invading treason plies:
Quick, and at once alarm'd, the nobles rise;
But these, as faith or faction led, divide,
And traitors most with entering traitors side:
Boards, bowls, and seats o'erturn'd, the pavement strow;
Of blood with wine the mingling currents flow;
Vain is the fear that wings their feet for flight,
They fall who basely fly or bravely fight;
With screams and groans the echoing courts resound,
And gasping Romans bite the traitorous ground.

293

Say, Royal Syrian! in that hour of death,
Say, didst thou tamely then resign thy breath?
Surprize and shame, and love and boundless rage,
Flash from his eyes and in his breast engage.
Threatning aloft, his flaming steel he drew,
And swift to save his loved Constantia flew;
Before his bride a beauteous bulwark stands,
Now presses on, and backwards bears the bands:
Bold to his aid surviving Romans spring,
Some Syrians too could dare to join their king;
Invaded late, they in their turn invade,
And traitors are with mutual death repaid.
But what may courage, what may strength avail,
Where still o'erpowering multitudes assail;
Where number with increasing number grows,
And every sword must match a thousand foes?
As melting snows with gradual waste subside,
So sink the warriors from their Hero's side:
Thin'd are the remnants of his bleeding train,
And scarce, but scarce, the unequal strife sustain;
Their veins exhausted, and o'ertoil'd their might,
And struggling, but to fall the last, they fight.

The Monarch thus on every side distrest,
And hope extinguish'd in his valiant breast,

294

Turn'd to his Queen, he sent the parting look,
And brief the eternal last adieu he took:
“Since here,” he cried, “our hapless loves must end,
“Where this arm fails, may mightier Heaven defend!
“This is my last, my only, fond desire:
“Too blest am I, who in thy cause expire.”
So saying, with recruited powers he glows,
Exalted treads, and overlooks his foes:
Of more than mortal size the warrior seems,
And terror from his eye imperial streams.
The circling host his single voice defies;
Amid the throng, with sury wing'd, he flies:
Deep bites his sword, in heaps on heaps they fall;
Hands, arms, and heads, bespread the sanguin'd hall;
Untired with toil, resistless in his course,
Disdain gave fury, and despair gave force.
As here, and there, his conquering steps he bends,
Down his fair form the purpling stream descends;
Exhausted nature would persuade to yield,
But courage, still tenacious, holds the field.
As when the lamp its wavering light essays,
The source consumed that fed the vital blaze,

295

Extinguish'd now its kindly flame appears,
And now aloft a livelier radiance rears;
Subsides by fits, by fits again aspires,
And bright, but doubtful, burn its fainting fires;
Till recollected to one force of light,
Sudden she flashes into endless night—
So the brave Youth the blaze of life renews,
Reels, stands, defends, attacks, and still subdues;
Till every vein, and every channel drain'd,
One last effort his valiant arm sustain'd:
As lightning swift, he sped the latest blow,
And greatly fell, expiring on his foe.

As should an oak within some village stand,
Young, tall, and straight, the favourite of the land,
Beneath the dews of heaven sublime he grows,
Beneath his shade the wearied find repose;
To deck his boughs each morn the maidens rise,
And youths around his form contest the prize:
Yet haply if a sudden storm descend,
Sway'd by the blast, his beauteous branches bend;
But vigorous, to their towering height recoil,
Maintain the combat, and outbrave the toil;
Till the red bolt with levell'd ruin shoots,
And cuts the pillar'd fabrick from the roots:

296

Swift falls the beauty o'er a length of ground;
The nymphs and swains incessant mourn around.
So did the Youth with living form excel,
So fair, so tall, and so lamented, fell!
Relenting traitors would revive the dead,
And weep the blood their ruthless weapons shed:
One tender pang the dire Sultana felt,
And nature, spite of hell, compels to melt.

While sudden thus each bloody arm suspends,
And round their Prince the satiate tumult bends;
Regardless of her fate, Constantia goes
Thro' pointed javelins, and a host of foes.
Amaze before the daring Virgin yields,
And Innocence from every weapon shields;
Till mourning by the great remains she stood,
And o'er her lover pour'd the copious flood:
“Ah, valiant arm! a waste of worth in vain!
“Ah, Royal Youth,” she cried, “untimely slain!
“O! had I perish'd, e're I reach'd thy shore,
“The surge devour'd, or watery monsters tore;
“To bless the world your worth had yet survived,
“Nor I, too fatally beloved, arrived.
“'Tis I, who have this dear effusion shed;
“For me, for me, a luckless bride, you bled!”

297

So saying—furious, the Sultana cries,
“Strike; strike; the source of all our mischief dies!”
“Yes, strike!” the bright, the intrepid Maid replies.
But vainly this consents, or that commands;
Heaven check'd their hearts, and pity bound their hands:
At once a thousand javelins rise in air;
A thousand wishes whisper,—“Ah, forbear!”
Recoiling arms the bloody task refuse,
And beauty with resistless charm subdues.
Alone relentless, the Sultana cries,
“'Tis well, the death she wish'd, may still suffice:
“Hence with that form, that knows so well to reign;
“Hence with the witch, and plunge her in the main!

298

“Her passage thence to Rome she may explore,
“And tell her welcome on the Syrian shore.
So saying, quick to a selected band
She gave to execute the dire command;
Reluctant to the charge, they yet obey,
And to the shore the Mourning Fair convey.
Slow as she moved, soft sorrows bathe the ground;
Her guards too melt, and pitying weep around;
Tho' vers'd in blood, detest the stern commands,
And feel their hearts rebellious to their hands.
When now upon the appointed beach they stood,
That look'd with horror o'er the deepening flood,
Each eyed his fellow with relenting look,
And each to each the cruel task forsook;
With distant awe the Heavenly Maid survey,
Nor once her harm in act or thought essay.
The still suspense at length their leader broke,
And bow'd before the Trembling Beauty, spoke:

299

“O thou, endow'd with more than mortal charms,
“Who every foe of all his force disarms!
“Say, how shall we our power or will employ;
“Where both are weak, to spare thee, or destroy—
“Both impotent alike our power and will,
“The means to save thee, or the thoughts to kill?
“Yet one extreme may cruelly remain,
“To yield thee haply to the pitying main;
“And Heaven, who form'd thee so divinely fair,
“If Heav'n has power, will sure have will to spare.”
He said; the rest assent, and to the bay
With secret step the Virgin-Bride convey.
Convenient here a Roman bark they find;
They hoist the hasty canvas to the wind:
The bark with Roman wealth and plenty stow'd,
Now launching with the Lonely Sailor rode;
The gale from shore with ready rapture blew,
And to her vessel bore the last adieu.

300

Now, stain'd with blood, the self-convicted night
Fled from the face of all enquiring light;
And morn, unconscious of the murderous scene,
O'er Syria, guilty Syria, rose serene.
The mountains sink before Constantia's eyes;
Wing'd o'er the surge, her bounding galley flies;
From sight of land, and human face conveys,
The skies alone above, and all around the seas.

“Go, Lovely Mariner! Imperial Fair!
“The warring winds and angry ocean dare;
“Strange climes and spheres, a lone adventurer, view,
“New to the main, and to misfortune new;
“Without the chart, or polar compass steer,
“Nor storms, in which the stoutest tremble, fear.
“But ill those limbs, for gentle office form'd,
“And in the down of nightly softness warm'd,
“Shall now, obsequious to the ruder gale,
“Command the frozen cord, and ponderous sail;
“Shall now, beneath the watery sky obscure,
“The nightly damp and piercing blast endure.”

301

Thus all disconsolate, and sore distrest,
And sorrow heaving in her beauteous breast,
Down sinks the Fair; her hands in anguish rise,
And up to Heaven she lifts her streaming eyes:
“O Thou!” she said, “whence every being rose,
“In whom they safe exist, and soft repose;
“Fix'd in whose power, and patent to whose eye,
“Immense, those copious worlds of wonders lie;
“To me, the meanest of thy works descend;
“To me, the last of every being, bend!
“Since not exempt, in thy paternal care,
“The lowest triumph, and minutest share;
“Thy subjects all, and all their sovereign know,
“The seas that eddy, and the winds that blow;
“The winds thy ruling inspiration tell;
“The seas, exulting in thy presence, swell:
“O'er these, o'er those, supreme, do Thou preside;
“For I desire no other star to guide:

302

“In want, and weakness, be thy power display'd,
“And Thou assist, where else no arm can aid.
“But if, as surely every mortal must,
“If now I hasten to my native dust,
“From the dread hour, and this devouring deep,
“The Spark of Deathless Animation keep;
“Then may my Soul, as bright instinctive flame,
“Aspiring then, thy Kindred Radiance claim;
“Or to some humbler Heaven the trembler raise,
“Tho' there the last, the first to sing thy praise:
“Some lowly, vacant seat, Eternal, deign,
“Nor be Creation, and Redemption vain!”

So pray'd the Maid, and Peace, a wonted guest,
Sought the known mansion of her spotless breast;
To every peril arm'd, and pain resigned,
Cheer in her looks, and patience in her mind.

The wind fresh blowing from the Syrian shore,
Swift thro' the floods her spooming vessel bore.

303

Long breathed the current of the eastern gale,
And swell'd the expanse of each distended sail:
And now the hills of Candia rise to view,
As evening clouds and settled vapours blue;
And now, still driven before the orient blast,
Morea, and her lengthening capes are past:
Now land again her wistful prospect flies,
And gives the unvarying ocean to her eyes;
Till Malta's rocks, emerging from the main,
The circling war of earth and sea maintain.
Alike unknown, each varying clime appear'd;
The land and main alike the Virgin fear'd;
While every coast her wandering eyes explore,
Reminds her soul of Syria's hostile shore;
And more than every monster seas can yield,
From man, from man, she begs that Heaven would shield.

Full many a day, and many a night, forlorn,
Thro' shelves, and rocks, and eddying tempest born,

304

Thro' drizzling sky, and nightly damp severe,
No fire to warm, no social face to cheer;
On many a meal of tainted viands fed,
The chill blast whistling round her beauteous head;
The pensive Innocence attends her fate,
Amidst surrounding deaths, and storms, sedate.

Ye silken sons of Affluence and Pride!
Whose fortunes roll a soft superfluous tide,
Who yet on visionary wants refine,
And rack'd with false fantastic woes repine;
And ye, whom Penury and sharp Distress,
With bitter, but salubrious medicine, bless—
Behold that sex, whose softness men despise;
Behold a Maid, who might instruct the wise,
Give patience precedent, fierce frenzy 'swage,
And with philosophy new-form the sage!
For her the tides of regal fullness flow'd;
For her oppression heap'd the cumbrous load;
In affluence humble, in misfortune great,
She stands the worst alternatives of fate!

305

At length, her galley wing'd before the blast,
Swift launching, thro' the straits of Ceuta past;
And winding now before the varying gale,
Tempestuous Auster rends her labouring sail:
Hispania's realm the obsequious vessel coasts;
Now Gallia's surge the Beauteous Burthen boasts;
Till last, Britannia's wave the Charge receives,
And from the Atlantic main, exalting, heaves;
The destined freight with pleased emotion bore,
And gently wafted to Northumbria's shore.

But haply now 'twere obvious to demand,
How borne from Solyma's far-distant land,
Thro' many a clime and strait that might restrain,
The gust of winter, and the whelming main,
Britannia's coast should fix the wandering Maid,
Thro' such a length of devious tracts convey'd?

306

“Say first, when ships in dizzy whirlwinds wheel,
“Who points the fervour of the amorous steel?
“Wing'd by whose breath the bidden tempests blow?
“Heaved in whose fulness mighty oceans flow?
“Yet what are winds that blow, or seas that roll?
“The globe stupendous, or the poising pole?
“What the seven planets on their axis spun?
“What the wide system of our centering sun?
“A point, an atom, to the ambient space,
“Where worlds on worlds in circling myriads race!

307

“Yet these the inanimate volution keep,
“And roll eliptic thro' the boundless deep;
“While One Hand weighs the infinite suspense,
“The insensate loads and measures the immense;
“Within, without, thro' height and depth presides;
“With equal arm, the bark, or planet, guides.
“By Thee uplifted, thro' the pathless skies,
“With conscious plume, the birds of passage rise;
“Thro' Thee their patent longitude is known,
“The stated climate, and the varying zone.
“Thy Will informs the universal plan,
“The ways of Angels, and the ways of man;

308

“The moral and material world connects,
“Thro' each, Supreme, both governs and inspects;
“Conducts the blood thro' each arterial round,
“Conducts each system thro' the vast profound:
“One Rule, the joint, the boundless model forms,
“And the small ant to love of order warms;
“Alike, thro' high, and low, and great, and small,
“Nor aught's mysterious, or mysterious all.”

What time the wafting tide, and favouring blast,
The Fair on Britain's fated region cast;
Young Alla then Northumbria's sons obey'd,
Whose substituted scepter Offa sway'd:
Illustrious Offa, who in worth excell'd
Whate'er the rolls of Saxon heroes held!

309

Alone Rodolphus, to the chief allied,
Excell'd in arms, but much excell'd in pride.

High on the brow of a commanding steep,
And full in prospect of the eastern deep,
His seat, addrest for war, as for repose,
And fix'd with elegance, brave Offa chose.
And now the hero, at his wonted hour,
Where trees o'er-arching form'd the Sylvan bower,
With Hermigilda sought the evening-air,
His bride, the fairest of the Saxon fair—
When from the main, and obvious to the view,
The apparent wreck their fix'd attention drew;
And quickly by innate compassion led,
Attended, to the neighbouring shore they sped.

310

Constantia here sole mariner they found,
Admiring gaze, and silently surround:
Her eyes to Heaven the Grateful Charmer rais'd,
And with mute thanks of swift acceptance prais'd;
Then turn'd, with suppliant mien her arms extends,
And lowly at their feet for mercy bends.
Tho' Pagans, yet with native virtues blest,
The sentiment humane inform'd their breast:
They her sad narrative of woes enquire,
Prompt to redress, as courteous to desire.
With moving eloquence the Maid began,
And thro' a length of strange disasters ran:
What truth required, with artless grace reveal'd;
What prudence check'd, with graceful art conceal'd;
Pathetic gave her sufferings to the view,
But o'er her state a specious covering threw.

311

Sweet flow'd the accents of her gentle tongue;
Attention on the mournful music hung:
Each heart a sympathetic anguish felt—
Who saw that face, and could refuse to melt?
Great Offa's bride with answering woes distrest,
With streaming eyes and clasping arms carest:
Officious now to please, and prompt to aid,
They to the palace lead the Peerless Maid;
With feast, and song, and social aspect cheer,
And, as of more than mortal mould, revere.

Here, pleased with privacy, and long content,
Her days the Universal Charmer spent;

312

To office apt, and each obliging art,
She kindly stole the voluntary heart;
Adored around, a mental empire gain'd,
And still a Queen thro' every bosom reign'd.

What winning power on beauty's charm attends!
The rude it softens, and the bigot bends.

313

What precept from Constantia's lips can fail?
What truth so musical, and not prevail?
Persuasive while she pleads, the priest might learn,
The deaf find ears, and even the blind discern.

314

Soon thro' the house of generous Offa spread,
Her pleasing tongue its sacred influence shed;
And all the cordial proselytes of grace,
The Christian Law, the Law of Love, embrace.
But ah, sweet Maid, how short is thy repose!
Nor hope that here thy scenes of suffering close;
Heaven speeds the planet that o'er-ruled thy birth,
And hastes to make one Angel, even on earth.

Rodolphus to the Saxon chief allied,
Whose strength of limb with mightiest giants vied,
Of feature crude, and insolent of soul,
Whose heart nor knew, or mercy, or controul—

315

He saw; and though to deeds of discord bred,
He saw, and on the lovely vision fed:
Swift through his veins the sulphurous poison run,
But women seem'd all obvious to be won.
Malicious fervour prompts him to enjoy;
Dire is the love that's eager to destroy!
Vows, prayers, and oaths, and menaces he tried,
And prized alike the prostitute, and bride.
But when repuls'd with merited disdain,
He found all threats, as all intreaties vain,
The flame that gloomy in his bosom burn'd,
To deadly hate by swift transition turn'd;
And nightly, in his dark designing soul,
Dire future scenes and schemes infernal roll.

Mean-time, the sons of hostile Scotia arm,
And fame through Albion gives the loud alarm.

316

Young Alla at the warlike call arose,
And speeds with answering boldness to oppose;
While Offa, with glad heart, and honours due,
To welcome his approaching sovereign flew.

And now Rodolphus, of whose baleful breast
The fiends and every fury stood possest,
On ills of cruellest conception bent,
To perpetrate his deadly purpose meant.

All wrapt in clouds, from Heaven's nocturnal steep
Mid darkness hung, and weigh'd the world to sleep;
When Offa's consort, and the Roman Maid,
By unsuspecting innocence betray'd,
Divinely pious, and divinely fair,
Tired with long vigil and the nightly prayer,

317

Together lock'd in calm oblivion lay;
Not both to rise and greet returning day.
Rodolphus, unperceived, invades the room,
His bosom darker than the midnight gloom:
Dire o'er the gentle pair the felon stands,
A ponyard thirsting in his impious hands.
As should some cottager, with hourly care,
Two lambs, his sole delight and substance, rear,
With fondness at his rural table fed,
Beneath his eye, and in his bosom bred;
Till fierce for blood, and watchful to devour,
Some prowling wolf perceives the absent hour,
His nightly tread through some sly postern bends,
And the meek pair with savage fury rends—
So sweet, so innocent, the Fair Ones lay;
So stern, the human savage views his prey!
His steel swift plunged through Hermigilda's breast,
From the pure form, dismiss'd the purer guest;
Without one sigh her gentle soul expires,
And waked in bliss, the wondrous change admires,
Beyond beyond what utterance e'er can name,
Or vision of ecstatic fancy frame.

318

Not so, bright Maid! thy harder fate intends;
A simple death was only meant for friends:
For thee, he hoards the fund of future ill,
And spares with tenfold cruelty to kill.
Close by Constantia, lovely sleeping maid,
His reeking steel the murderous ruffian laid:
Revolved within his breast new mischiefs brew,
And smiling horridly the fiend withdrew.

Thick darkness yet withstood approaching day,
And camp'd upon the western summits lay;
And scarce the straggling rays of orient light,
Excursive, pierced the paler realms of night;
Their passage through Constantia's casement won,
And viewed the brightest form beneath the sun—
When the first glories of her opening eyes
With prompt, with early elevation rise,

319

Its wing tow'rds Heaven her waking soul extends,
And in a rhapsody of praise ascends.
But ah, not long those lively transports burn!
Confused, alarm'd, her thoughts to earth return:
All chill, and in the vital current drown'd,
Pale at her side, her lovely friend she found;
A cloud of horror quick involved the Fair,
And uttering shrieks exprest the loud despair.
Waked to her griefs, the scared domestics rose:
In rush'd the train, shrill echoing to her woes;
O'er the pale dame a mourning torrent shed,
And with repeated cries invoke the dead.
Rodolphus too, with well-dissembled fears,
And face of busy feign'd concern, appears:
From Heaven's high wrath, with swift perdition sped,
He calls down vengeance on the guilty head;
Apparent zeal his earnest visage fires,
And loud the murderer for himself enquires.

320

With bloody marks of dire conjecture stain'd,
Constantia, hapless virgin, stands arraign'd:
The Fair with fears her guiltless cause essays;
But ah! each specious circumstance betrays:
Rude cords around her polish'd arms they strain;
Strong pleads the Innocent, but pleads in vain.
Far were thy friends, Constantia, lovely maid!
Far distant all, that had the power to aid;
From guilt, from death, from infamy to save,
Or shed a tear upon a stranger's grave.

And now the tale, with deadly tidings fraught,
To Offa's ear a speedy courier brought.
Heart pierc'd with anguish stood the mourning chief;
No plaints express'd the inutterable grief;
No sighs exhale, no streaming sorrows flow,
Fix'd and immoveable in speechless woe.
Compassion touch'd the generous Alla's breast,
For his brave subject, for his friend distrest;
Each circumstance the Royal Youth enquires,
And the dire act his just resentment fires.

321

By specious proofs of false suggestion led,
He vows full vengeance on Constantia's head;
To doom the luckless Innocent he speeds,
And in his wrath the previous victim bleeds.

Fame flies before with voluntary wing;
A thousand distant shouts proclaim their King:
Pour'd from all parts, the populace unite,
And on his form insatiate feed their sight;
For Alla, bright in each perfection, shone,
That graced the cottage, or enrich'd the throne:
The nerve Herculean braced his youthful arm,
His cheek imbibed the virgin's softest charm:
Mild was his soul, all spotless as his form;
His virtues not severe, but chaste and warm;
His manners sweet and sprightly, yet sincere;
His judgment calm and deep, yet quick and clear:
Graceful his speech, above the flowers of art;
Open his hand, more bounteous yet his heart;
As Mercy soft, kind, social, and humane,
Vice felt alone, that Alla held the rein:
To all the pride of courts, and pomp of show,
The brightest ornament, yet greatest foe!

322

Within, without, thus rich in every grace,
And all the Angel in his soul and face,
Not form'd to feel Love's passion, but impart,
No charms were yet found equal to his heart:
For him each virgin sighed, but sighed in vain,
By him unpitied, since unknown the pain.

Detesting flattery, yet fond of fame,
Thro' deadly fields he sought a deathless name;
Still foremost there, he sprung with youthful heat,
And War, not Love, gave Alla's breast to beat;
Each foe he conquer'd, and each friend retain'd,
And scepter'd in his subjects bosoms reign'd.

And now arrived—severe in solemn state,
Whence no appeal, the grand tribunal sate.
Great Alla, throned conspicuous to the view,
Attention, love, and centering reverence drew.

323

In form, the deadly process strait began;
Wide thro' the croud, a doubtful murmur ran;
Rodolphus chief the Friendless Prisoner charged,
Enforced the pain, and on the guilt enlarged.

The Fair Unknown to her defence they cite:
Guarded she comes, as pure, as angels bright;
As tho' delight and grief at once combined,
And fled to her, displeased with all mankind;
Or as delight would grief, in grief, excell,
Or grief could find delight with her to dwell.
Pensive she moves, majestically slow,
And with a pomp of beauty decks her woe:
All murmurs, silenced by her presence, cease,
And from her eye the yielding croud gives place;

324

Even Alla's looks his softening soul confest,
And all resentment died within his breast.
But ah! while shame with injured honour vies,
While yet her tongue its faultering task denies,
More than all phrase, or studied quaint address,
Her down-cast eyes and speaking looks express.
At length pathetic, with a starting tear,
She thus to bow'd attention charm'd the ear.

“Where may the wretched for protection bend?
“Or when, ah when, shall my misfortunes end?
“Sure, persecution in the grave will cease;
“And death bestow, what life denies me, peace.
“Driven from before the face of humankind,
“Earth, air, and sea, with cruel man combined;
“Each hour, each element, prepared a foe,
“And nature seem'd exhausted in my woe.
“At length, with every grace and virtue crown'd,
“One friend, one pitying faithful friend I found;

325

“With her, retired, to pass my days I chose,
“And here presumed to taste a late repose:
“But peace to me, alike all climes refuse,
“And mischief to the farthest pole pursues;
“'Tis even a crime to be Constantia's friend,
“Nor less than death to those who would defend.
“Ah Hermigilda! could my forfeit life,
“To the fond husband give the faithful wife;
“From death recall thy chastely featured charms,
“And yield thee to the generous Offa's arms;
“Ah! gladly would I then resign my breath,
“If life so dear could be revived by death.
“But thus to die with foul suspicion stain'd,
“For murder, murder of my friend arraign'd!—
“Alas! unskill'd in every cruel art,
“Had I the power to hurt, I want the heart:
“No creature e'er Constantia's malice felt;
“Ev'n suffering foes have taught my heart to melt,
“My heart, for birds, for insects oft distrest;
“And Pity is its known, its only guest.

326

“O Youth! thy happy people's boasted theme,
“O Alla! sacred to the breath of fame,
“To whom subjected realms their rights submit,
“Who throned in judgment like an Angel sit;
“Still more extensive be thy guardian care,
“And let the Innocent, the Stranger share!”

Here rudely on her plea Rodolphus broke,
And all inflamed, and interrupting, spoke:
“List not, O King, to that bewitching tongue!
“So sweetly false the tempting Syrens sung;
“Her words would give the knotted oak an ear,
“And charm the moon from her enchanted sphere.
“That by her hand our dear relation bled,
“This sword shall witness on her guilty head,
“Whatever champion, or bold odds oppose,
“And, arm'd by justice, dare a thousand foes:
“Then be her purity by combat tried;
“And by the conquering arm let Heaven decide.

327

“Alas, O Alla!” cried the trembling Maid,
“My sex, not arms but Innocence must aid.
“Helpless I stand, and distant every friend,
“That has the power, or courage to defend.
“If justice is ordain'd to crown the strong,
“Then the weak arm is ever in the wrong;
“The hawk may triumph in his lawless deeds,
“While doom'd beneath his gripe the turtle bleeds.
“Yet that I'm guiltless, even my charge admits,
“And malice, meaning to arraign, acquits:
“What tho' the sword lay treacherous at my side?
“Sure, guilt could never want the craft to hide!
“The spots of bloody circumstance explain,
“That inward truth fears no exterior stain;
“And last my capture with the slain implies,
“That guilt, not Innocence, from vengeance flies.

328

“I fear not death, but that surviving shame,
“Which must to ages blast my spotless name—
“Be that from taint of guilty censure freed,
“And all that malice can inflict, decreed!”

Thus while she spake, with secret passion tost,
And in a world of new found wonders lost,
Scarce Alla could his struggling heart controul:
Fix'd were his eyes, but restless was his soul;
His breast with various agitation burn'd;
Now pale, now red, his varying aspect turn'd:
Her accents dwell upon his listening ears;
When now she ceased, delighted still he hears;
Her form with changed with feverish look surveys,
And could for ever hear, for ever gaze.

At length collected, as from bonds he broke,
And with cold speech, and feign'd indifference, spoke:

329

“Thy charge, bright Maid! my secret soul acquits;
“But public law no private voice admits:
“Kings sit not here, with arbitrary sense
“To form new laws, or cavil, but dispense;
“Though law is fallible, yet law should sway,
“And kings, more fallible than law, obey.
“Say, gallant warriors! who, unmatch'd in arms,
“May yield uncensured to resistless charms;
“Say, is there one, who, singularly brave,
“At his own peril greatly dares to save;
“From pain, from death, from slander, to defend,
“And give the Stranger, and the Fair, a friend?”

The Hero said; but mute was every tongue,
Blank every face, and every nerve unstrung;
So much Rodolphus, never match'd in arms,
Each weaker hand and conscious heart alarms;
So was the giant famed for brutal power,
Strode like an arch, and menaced like a tower!

Then Alla—“Soon as Phosphor's dewy ray
“Shall gild the shade, bright promiser of day,

330

“Prepared and meted with the morning light,
“Be the rail'd barrier, and the lists of fight:
“Then, e'er the sun, swift mounting up the sky,
“Views the wide world with his meridian eye,
“While issuing from the trumpet's brazen throat
“Defiance loudly breathes its martial note,
“If haply Heaven, not impotent to aid,
“With interposing arm protect the Maid,
“Some angel, or unlook'd for champion send,
“And with prevailing ministry defend;
“Freed be the Fair, and spotless be her fame—
“E'er evening else, she feeds the hungry flame!”
So spake the Prince, descending from his throne:
Sad through the concourse went the lengthening groan;

331

The Maid, to death inevitably doom'd,
A guiltless victim every heart presumed;
To her they consecrate the pitying tear,
Nor e'er, till then, could think their Prince severe.

Constantia (when with firm tho' hopeless eye
She now perceived the fatal hour drew nigh)
In conscious innocence erects her head:
With doubt exiled, all care and terror fled;
Death stole from triumph to adorn her state,
And gave a smile beyond the reach of fate.
All night, in prayer and mental song, the Maid,
With Angels choir'd, her soul for Heaven array'd:
Light from her heart, as summer's careless robe,
Dropt each affection of this sin-worn globe;

332

O'er honour, late so loved, o'er brutal foes,
And every sense of mortal coil she rose;
Till tow'rd the dawn she gently sunk to rest,
With all Elysium open'd in her breast.

Gray morning now involved in rising dew,
O'er the capt hills her streaming mantle threw;
While, far beyond, the horizontal sun
With beam of intersected brightness shone;
Gold paved o'er ocean stretch'd his glittering road,
And to the shore the lengthening radiance glowed.
Full in his sight, and open to the main,
Concurring squadrons throng'd Northumbria's plain:
To learn what fate attends the foreign Fair,
Each sex and age in mingling routs repair,
Whom, pour'd by millions to the listed field,
Dispeopled towns, and emptied hamlets yield.
Within the lists, conspicuous to the sight,
Rode the proud stature of the Saxon knight:
His mien, with thirst of opposition fired,
Appeared to menace what it most desired;
Gave all to wish some champion for the Fair,
Gave all to wish the fight, but none to dare.

333

His bold defiance o'er the measured ground,
The brazen blasts of winding clarions sound;
While strong lung'd heralds challenge to the fight,
And seem, at once, to threaten, and invite.

And now, expectant of the murderous flame,
In sable pomp the Lovely Victim came:
On her, all looks, and centering hearts were fix'd,
Love, grief, and awe, with soft compassion mix'd;
To Heaven, the voice of wide affliction cries;
Earth drinks the tribute of ten thousand eyes—
Such sighs, as from the dying breast expire,
And tears, as meant to quench a world on fire.
To the tall pyre, in sad procession led,
The Tranquil Maid ascends her sylvan bed;
And fearless on the funeral summit placed,
Her seat of fearful preparation graced.
Hence, with wide gaze, she threw her eyes around,
Nor Alla, cruel, lovely Alla, found.

“Ah,” soft she said, “where's this heroic youth,
“So famed for clemency, so famed for truth;
“So sage, so cautious in the casuist's chair,
“Too firm to deviate, and too just to spare;
“To strangers cruel, tho' to subjects kind;
“In law discerning, yet to mercy blind?

334

“Why comes not he to feast his savage eyes,
“And view the pains he can so well devise?
“Heaven framed thee, Alla, with exterior art,
“Soften'd thy form, but left a flinty heart;
“Too perfect else had been the beauteous plan,
“And Alla had been something more than man!”

Thus while she spoke, a distant murmur rose,
As when the wind thro' rustling forest blows;
And gathering now still louder and more near,
To mute attention turn'd each listening ear.
Distinctly heard along the listed ground,
To trumpets, now, shrill answering trumpets sound;
A clamorous cheer from rank to rank extends,
And sudden shout the deafen'd welkin rends.
Straight, usher'd to the field with loud acclaim,
A knight unknown, and unattended came:
No trophied boast, no outward shine of arms,
Nor love device, with quaint attraction charms;
Unplumed the motion of his sable crest,
And black the guardian corselet on his breast;
Black was the steed that bore him to the field,
And black the terror of his ample shield.

335

As when, to slake Ierne's feverish plain,
And check the Dog-star's short but sultry reign,
A cloud, full-freighted with the coming storm,
Black-brow'd o'er ocean lifts its cumberous form,
Dread, to the shore its gloomy progress bends,
And charged with Heaven's avenging bolt suspends—
So to the field the gloomy champion show'd;
So charged with mercy, as with vengeance rode.

Where the Bright Victim blest the circling view,
Close to the pyre the sable warrior drew:
“Guilty,” aloud, “or innocent?” he cried—
“Ah guiltless—so help Heaven!” the Maid replied;
“So by this arm,” he said, “may Heaven for thee decide!”

Surprised Rodolphus stood; abash'd the bold,
And like a torrent in mid course controll'd;
Abash'd to find, that any mortal wight
Could singly dare to match his matchless might.
But soon, of conscious force, and scorn, and pride,
With two-fold fury swelled the impetuous tide:

336

Resistless, dreadful, in his wrath he rose;
For courage still with opposition grows.

Attending heralds straight divide the field,
And the dire interval for combat yield.
To either goal retired each threatful knight,
Fierce thro' restraint, and trembling for the fight,
On each by turns was every look intent,
Now here, now there, with swift emotion bent:
Perch'd on the summit of the Stranger's crest,
Here conquest seem'd to every eye confest;
Not long confest, for from his rival, there,
Again the varying judgment learns despair;
For every wish assumed the Stranger's part,
And quick expectance throbb'd in every heart.

Fix'd in his seat, each waits the dread career,
And in each rest firm sits the ponderous spear;
Each conscious steed impatient beats the ground;
Eager and wan was every face around.
The signal given, they vanish from the goals;
Earth backward spurn'd from either courser rolls;
Space gathers quick beneath their nimble feet,
And horse to horse, tremendous shock! they meet.

337

Not yet blind wrath, or head-long valour ruled;
More forceful was their force, by judgment cool'd:
The deadly aim each hostile eye selects,
Each eye too marks where either arm directs;
With art they ward, and with dread action wield,
Point with the lance, and parry with the shield.
Full at the bosom of his active foe,
Rodolphus levell'd the resistless blow;
But from his oblique buckler glanced the spear,
Which else, nor targe, nor mortal arm could bear.
Not so his lance the Sable Champion sped,
Feign'd at the breast, then brandish'd at the head;
Thro' his foe's shield the verging weapon prest,
And razed the plume that wanton'd on his crest.
Together, with impetuous onset push'd,
Thus horse to horse, and man to man, they rush'd;
Then backward, driven by mutual shock, they bound:
Beneath the conflict shakes the suffering ground.

So wing'd, in war, or darkness, on the deep,
Two ships adverse the mediate ocean sweep:
With horrid brunt joins each encountering prow;
Loud roars the rifled surge, and foams below;

338

Sails, shrowds, and masts, all shiver in the toil,
And backward to their sterns the foundering keels recoil.

But each well skill'd in every warlike meed,
New to the charge revives his sinking steed;
Swift from his side his steely terror drew,
And on his foe with answering fury flew.
The sway long time intemperate valour bore,
While artless rage unlearn'd the warrior's lore:
On their hack'd arms the restless peal descends,
Targe, plate, and mail, and riven corselet, rends;
Struck from their helms, the steely sparks aspire,
And from their swords forth streams the mingling fire.

As in the glow of some Vulcanian shed,
Two brawny smiths heave high the ponderous sled,
Full front to front, a grizzly pair, they stand;
Between their arms extends the fiery brand;
Huge strokes from the tormented anvil bound;
Thick flames the air, and groans the labouring ground—

So toil'd these heroes with commutual rage,
And such reciprocated combat wage.

339

Around them, trembling Expectation waits;
With speechless horror every bosom beats;
For either seem'd resistless in the fight,
But each too seem'd to match resistless might.
Surprized at length the wary warriors own
A rival to their arms till then unknown;
With mutual wile defensive now they fought,
And mutual wounds a mutual caution taught:
All dint of force, and stratagem, they try,
Reach with their arms, and measure with their eye;
They feint, they ward, strike out, and now evade,
Foin with the point, and parry with the blade;
Probe each defect, some purposed limb expose,
Now grappling seize, and with dread union close;
Their waists with unenamour'd grasp they wind;
Their arms, like cramps, and forceful engines, bind;
Each strives to lift the other from his seat,
Heaved thick, and short, their labouring bosoms beat;
Struggling they gripe, they pull, they bend, they strain,
But firm and still unsway'd their seats retain;
Till loosed as by consent again they turn,
And with reviving force and fury burn.

340

Thus future ages had this fight beheld,
Where both all might excelling, none excell'd,
Had not Rodolphus with impassion'd pride,
High heaved a blow that should at once decide,
His utmost powers collected in the stroke—
Like thunder o'er the yielding foe he broke:
The foe elusive of the dire intent,
His force in air the embarrass'd Pagan spent,
And by his bulk of cumberous poise o'ersway'd,
Full on his helm received the adverse blade:
Prone fell the Giant o'er a length of ground;
With ceaseless shouts the echoing heavens resound.

As from the brow of some impending steep,
The sportive diver views the briny deep,
From his high stand with headlong action flies,
And turns his heels retorted to the skies;
Inverted so the bulky Chief o'erturns,
And heaven, with heel of quick elation, spurns.

Light from his steed the conquering Hero sprung,
And threatful o'er the prostrate monster hung:
He, with feign'd penitence, and humbled breath,
Fond to evade the fear'd, the impending death,

341

(The instant weapon glittering at his breast)
The murderous scene and nightly guilt confest.

Mean-while, attended by the shouting crew,
The Fair, now freed, to greet her Champion flew;
For not of mortal arm the Chief she thought,
But Heaven's own delegate with vengeance fraught.
When now, enchanting to the Warrior's sight,
The Maid drew near, the Maid as Angels bright,
His beaver from his lovely face he rais'd,
And all on Alla, conquering Alla, gazed:
Earth, sea, and air, with endless triumph ring,
And shouting thousands hail their Victor King.
Not so Constantia,—struck with strange surprize,
Her great deliverer in her judge she eyes;
Conquest and love upon his regal brow,
A cruel judge, but kind deliverer now:
Soft shame, and trembling awe, her step represt,
And wondrous gratitude disturb'd her breast;
Joys, fainting fears, quick thrill'd through every vein,
And scarce her limbs their beauteous charge sustain.

How widely devious from the ways of man,
Is the great maze of Providential plan!

342

Vain man, short-sighted politician! dreams,
That things shall move subservient to his schemes;
But Heaven the fond projector undermines,
And makes the agent thwart his own designs;
Against it self the instrument employs,
And with the means the end proposed destroys.
What shall prevent Omniscience to direct?
And what, what can't Omnipotence effect?
He to the event subdues the opposing cause,
And light from darkness, wondrous influence, draws;
Defeat from conquest, infamy from fame;
And oft to honour paves the path of shame.
Why then this toil, and coil, and anxious care?
Why does man triumph, why does man despair?
Why does he chuse by vicious steps to scale,
Where Virtue may, at least as well, prevail?
Since not in him his proper fortune lies,
And Heaven alone ordains his fall or rise:
Man may propose, but only Heaven must speed;
And tho' the will is free, the event's decreed.
Be then the scope of every act, and thought,
To will, and do, still simply as we ought;
The less shall Disappointment's sting annoy,
And each success will bring a double joy:

343

To boundless Power and Prescience leave the rest;
But thou enjoy the province in thy breast!

Lo! in one hour, by fortune unforeseen,
The lowly Criminal becomes the Queen;
From shame to glory, anguish to repose,
From death to life, and bonds to freedom rose.
In love, as war, resistless, Alla woo'd,
And whom he won by arms, by suit subdued:
Constantia with her secret wish complied,
For Alla would not, could not be denied.

344

Nor list we here, with pomp of long array,
To blazon forth that chaste connubial day;
To tell what numbers numberless, what knights
And glittering dames adorn'd the festal rites;
What joys the banquet or the bowl could yield,
Or what the trophies of the tilting field.
Loud were the revels, boundless was the mirth,
That hail'd the sweetest brightest pair on earth—
Of men, the wisest, bravest, fairest, He;
Of all that's beautiful most beauteous, She!
Love, nature, harmony, the union claim'd,
And each for each, and both for one were framed.
But we of subsequent adventure treat,
And hasten to unfold their future fate.

Some months young Alla and his peerless bride,
In cordial bond of dear accordance tied,

345

Had look'd and smiled the precious hours away,
And fed on bliss that ne'er could know decay:
He, whose charm'd ear on that enchanting tongue
With thirst of fondest inclination hung,
Won by a preacher with so fair a face,
Becomes the zealous proselyte of Grace;
And subjects too their heathenish rites forego,
For still from courts, or vice, or virtues flow.
But ah! too soon, from beauty's softer charms,
War, rigorous war, and Scotia call to arms;
Constantia must her blooming Hero yield,
For Honour sends him to the embattell'd field.

346

Mean-while, the pregnant fruit of chaste delight
With a male infant crown'd the nuptial rite;
All sweet and lovely as the smiling morn,
Mauritius was to bless a nation born:
Their pledge of future bliss, their princely boy,
The Britons hail with universal joy;
Their fancy frames him what their prayers require,
Sweet as their Queen, and valiant as his Sire.
Offa, to whom the King's departing care,
Inestimable charge! consigned the Fair,
Advice of loyal gratulation sent,
To glad his Sovereign with the blest event.

But Donnegilda, cruel, crafty dame,
Great Alla's mother, over-fond of fame,
She, (as all antique parents, wondrous sage,
For youth project the inappetence of age,

347

Each sense endearing and humane despise,
And on the Mammon feast their down-cast eyes)
Malevolent beheld a Stranger led,
Unknown, unfriended, to the Regal Bed:
For in the secret closet of her breast,
Constantia her imperial birth supprest,
Till Heaven should perfect the connubial band,
And with her Royal Offspring bless the land.
“Ah! ill-timed caution! were this truth declared,
“What a vast cost of future woe was spared!
“But where Heaven's will the unequal cause supplies,
“To set the world on fire a spark may well suffice.”

The subtile dame, who now the occasion spied
To tear Constantia from her Alla's side,

348

Debauch'd the messenger, his mandate stole,
And forged in Offa's name the crafty scroll;
Wherein she framed a tale with wondrous art,
“How the feign'd Fair by witchcraft won his heart,
“Seduced his senses with infernal lore,
“And a dread monster, hideous offspring! bore.”

349

But Alla, of whose fond, whose faithful breast,
His Consort was the dear eternal guest,
Unmoved, return'd—“His bliss was too refined,
“Without the just allay that Heaven assigned;
“And what Constantia bore, or Heaven decreed,
“To be unwelcome, must be strange indeed!”

This letter too the courier, as before,
To Britain's Dowager unweeting bore;

350

And in the surfeit of oblivious wine
Left her to perpetrate the black design.
This too she cancell'd, forged the Regal Hand,
And pityless inscribed “the dire command,

351

“With threats, that Offa, to the wonted sea,
“Should the false Queen and hated Imp convey;
“And there permit the now detested Dame
“To seek the shore from whence the sorceress came.”

When Offa had the barbarous mandate read,
To Heaven his eyes and lifted hands he spread.

352

Like Niobe to marble turn'd, he stood;
Grief, fear, and horror, froze the generous blood:
Again he stirr'd, as from some wistful dream;
Again he read—alas! he read the same.

But, tho' in terms of soothing phrase exprest,
When now Constantia learn'd her Lord's behest,
Keen anguish, piercing to the springs of life,
At once arrests the Mother and the Wife:
For not, to her alone confined, as late
When bold she stood the weightiest stroke of fate,

353

A thousand cares of soft endearing kind,
Now share with Heaven the motions of her mind;
And with fond thoughts of sweet concern divide,
The melting Mother, and the clasping Bride:
And these alone her bursting bosom rend,
And o'er the couch her lifeless limbs extend.

Fame pour'd the mourning populace around:
In gushing anguish every eye is drown'd;
Compassion set her virtues full to view,
And with their Queen bade every joy adieu;
Swift from his throne they wish their Alla hurl'd,
And her crown'd empress of the peopled world:

354

But ah! in vain their prayers and tears delay;
Strict was the charge, and Offa must obey.

With heavy heart and faint reluctant hand,
He led the Mourner to the neighbouring strand:
She to the heaving whiteness of her breast,
With melting looks, her helpless Infant prest;
And thus, while sobs her piteous accent broke,
Her little inattentive child bespoke.

355

“Weep not, sweet Wretch! Tho' such thy father's will,
“Yet hast thou one, one tender parent still.
“Peace, peace! to thee thy Mother means no harm;
“Nor let our lot thy little heart alarm:
“O'er thee, till death, o'er thee my cares shall wake,
“And love thee for thy cruel Father's sake.”

Had every sire as on the banks of Nile,
Lost his first-born throughout Britannia's isle;
Or death with undistinguish'd carnage swept
Wives, sons, and sires, by all the living wept;

356

Such haply were the woes that now deplore
Their Queen attended to the echoing shore:
They tear their locks, their rueful bosoms smite,
And trace her bark with long pursuing sight.

Tedious it were, tho' wondrous strange to tell,
What new adventures o'er the main befel;
How fondly prattling, while her Infant smiled,
She the long hours and wintery nights beguiled;
Till seiz'd by pirates on the Atlantic wave,
A prince of Gallia bought the Imperial Slave:
How, in calm peace and friendship long retain'd,
High trust and grace her winning sweetness gain'd;
Till she to Rome, predestinate event!
Associate with her lord and mistress went.

357

But now to Britain let the Muse repair;
For there the valiant Alla claims her care.
Triumphant soon from Scotia he return'd,
And to behold his loved Constantia burn'd:
This wings his feet along the toilsome way—
But thoughts are swifter, swifter far than they;
Hope, elevate, the distant journey metes,
And to his march his heart the measure beats.

But when o'er Tweed he led his conquering host,
And trode the verdure of Northumbria's coast,
While laurels round their trophied temples twined,
And banners wanton'd in the curling wind,
No wonted crowds their once-loved Alla meet,
No prostrate knees, or hailing voices greet:
Blank was his passage o'er the pensive ground,
And silence cast a mournful gloom around;

358

Or if his Prince some straggling peasant spied,
As from a basilisk he slunk aside.

What this might mean, revolved within his breast,
Conjecture dire, and whispering doubts suggest;
More dread than death, some hideous ill impart—
This the first fear e'er seized on Alla's heart.
But worse, O worse than fancy yet could fear,
When now the killing truth arrests his ear!
Athwart his eyes, and mantling round his soul,
Thick clouds of grief and dreary darkness roll;
His sense, nor tears nor uttering groans could tell,
But froze and lock'd in speechless woe he fell.
At length by care, by cruel kindness, brought
To all the anguish of returning thought,
Swift from the sheath he drew the deadly guest,
And would have pierc'd this vulture in his breast;

359

Such was the sting of agonizing pain,
His frenzy would the immortal soul have slain!
But this prevented, round the attending crew,
With baleful glance, his eager eyes he threw:
“Constantia!” he requires with frantic tongue
“Constantia!” still the restless accents sung:
To her, as present, now his fondness speaks;
As absent, into desperate action breaks.
“O never, never more, my Queen!” he cries,
“Shall that known form attract these dying eyes!
“Never?—O, 'tis the worst, the last despair—
“Never is long, is wondrous long to bear!
“Down, down, ye cloud-topt hills, your summits stoop;
“With me, in sign of endless mourning, droop!

360

“Snapt be the spear, bright armour ground to dust;
“Repose thou corslet in eternal rust;
“Still'd be each tube, the trumpet's warlike swell—
“Empire, and fame, all, all, with Thee, farewell!
“For Thee alone, thy conquering soldier arm'd,
“The banner waved, and sprightly clangor charm'd:
“But arms and loathed desire with Thee are dead;
“And joy—no, never to return—is fled!”

Thus raved the youth, to wilful woes resigned;
And offer'd aid was sickness to his mind.
To frenzy by uxorious transports rais'd,
His vengeance on his aged parent seiz'd;
Who, doom'd to lose that too designing head,
A victim to his loved Constantia bled.

But violence in nature cannot last:
What region's known to bear eternal blast?

361

Time changes all, dissolves the melting rock,
And on fix'd water turns the chrystal lock.
Time o'er his anguish shed a silent balm,
A peace unsmiling, and a gloomy calm;
By ill untaught to mourn, by joy to glow,
And still insensible to bliss or woe.

364

To him, thus careless of the circling year,
Five annual suns had roll'd their bright career:
To Heaven alone, his earthly ardours turn'd;
There, late to meet the dear Constantia, burn'd:
Still that fond hope remain'd—his sole desire!
And gave new wings to the celestial fire.
“But yet—Hereafter!—What might there betide
“The blood-stain'd hand, by whom a parent died?

365

This, this gave doubtful thought, unhinged his rest,
And shook the region of his contrite breast;
At length taught satiate vengeance to relent,
And shipt for Rome, the Royal Pilgrim sent.

O'er Tiber soon the far-fraught tidings sped,
(For far beyond the Warrior's fame had spread)
And Gallia's Hugo, to whose generous care,
Protecting Heaven consigned the wandering Fair,
With those whom virtuous approbation fired,
(As still the Brave are by the Brave admired)
To see to touch the gallant Alla glowed,
And rank'd to meet the Regal Pilgrim rode.
With all due rite and answering grace humane,
The courteous Prince received the shining train:
But Hugo chief, with port of winning view,
The Hero's eye and prime affection drew;
And him, with note selected from the rest,
The Prince solicits for a frequent guest.

366

But ah! when now it reach'd Constantia's ear,
That Alla, lovely, barbarous man, was near,
Her soul a thousand different thoughts assail;
Expell'd by turns, by turns they all prevail:
With melting joy and burning love she glows,
With cooling grief and icy hate she froze;
Dear to her heart, though horrid to her will,
He was the loved the charming Alla still.

Nor Hugo now, in pompous dress array'd,
To wait Britannia's potent Lord delay'd.
With him Mauritius frequent chat supplied,
A little gay companion at his side—
He beams a Ganymede, in whose sweet face

367

The Sire and Mother lived with mingling grace:
Here still they met, in beauty reconciled;
Here still, in soft delicious union, smiled;
So join'd, so blended, with Divinest art,
As left it not in any power to part!

Upon the Pratler's aspect, with surprize,
And charm'd attention, Alla fix'd his eyes:
Somewhat of wonted semblance there he spied,
Dear to his sense, and to his heart allied;
Somewhat that touch'd beyond all mortal view,
And inly with the link of nature drew.
Disturb'd he rose; upon his secret soul,
Unweeting thaw, and cordial earnings stole:
Big with the soft distress, aside he stept,
And much the Warrior wonder'd why he wept.

368

Composed, he clasp'd the infant to his breast,
And ask'd, what sire with such a son was blest?
“That,” Hugo cried, “his Dame alone must show;
“Sire hath he none, or none of whom we know.
“But Mother, sure, he hath, that's such a mate
“No man can boast, nor boastful tongue relate:
“Though Fancy, to give semblance of her face,
“From all her sex should cull each separate grace,
“To speak her soul should rob from every saint;
“Low yet were phrase, and all description faint!”

Thus, while his tongue with free encomium flowed,
With strange emotion Alla's aspect glowed:

369

Full on his heart the dear idea rush'd;
His cheek with hope, and lively ardour flush'd;
When straight despondence sickening in his soul,
From its known seat the rosy tincture stole:
“Once, once,” he cried (the labouring sigh supprest)
“Such treasure once these widow'd arms possest!
“Nature is rich—yet gladly should I know,
“If the world's round can such another shew.”
“Be that,” replied the Gallic chief, “confest,
“Whene'er my house boasts Alla for a guest.”

They went. But when the long-dissever'd pair,
Her Alla here, and his Constantia there—

370

By doubts, loves, fears, and rushing joys dismay'd,
Unmoved, each face with mutual gaze survey'd—
Such was the scene, the impassion'd gesture such,
As phrase can't reach, nor liveliest pencil touch!
Three times the Fair One sought the shades of death,
Three times revived by Alla's balmy breath;
And thrice his guiltless plea he would essay,
And thrice she turn'd, Constantia turn'd away.
“Now, by this hand,” Britannia's Hero cried,
“This hand, by whom a cruel parent died,

371

“Long since for thee, for thee thou dear one, bled,
“A victim sacred to that injured head—
“Of all thy wrongs thy Alla is as clear,
“As here my son, thy other Alla here!
“Ah! could you know the anguish, the distress—
“But who can know what words can ne'er express?—
“What racks, what deaths, thy torturing absence cost;
“What restless toil this suffering bosom tost—
“'Twas such a ruin, such a breach of care,
“As this and only this could e'er repair!”

So saying, swift resistless to his breast,
The yielding Fair repeated transport prest.

372

But when all doubt and cold suspicion clear'd,
Her Lord still faithful as beloved appear'd;
By her so oft, so cruelly accused,
Still kind and true, and as her self abused;
She in his bosom, all with joy o'erpower'd,
Of sobs and tears the copious tempest shower'd—
All eyes around the melting measure kept,
And pleasure through contagious transport wept:
For Heaven, alone, can emulate the sweet
Of one hour's bliss, when two such lovers meet.

Still had Constantia, lock'd within her breast,
The Royal Secret of her Birth supprest,

373

When Rome's Imperial Monarch wide invites
To social cheer and festival delights:
For now triumphant from the Syrian coast,
Tho' long detain'd, return'd his vengeful host;
And to reward their toils and drown their cares,
The monarch on a solemn day prepares.
With festal robes adorn'd each warrior came;
In glittering vesture many a Roman dame:
And there, amid the peers, a peerless guest,
There Alla came in regal splendors drest,
All India beaming at the Hero's side;

374

O'er beaming India shone his brighter Bride;
While the young joy of each applauding tongue,
Mauritius on his smiling parents hung,
As tho' a stripling Cherub should attend,
Where two of prime Angelick Rank descend.
Struck at the pleasing prospect all admire,
But mute with wonder stood the Imperial Sire;
For haply, since our primal parents fell,
Ne'er met a pair that could this pair excel.

He at his left Britannia's Monarch placed,
And his right hand the unknown Constantia graced;

375

When with a starting tear the Reverend Man,
To Alla turn'd, in placid speech began:
“Young tho' thou art, with earliest vigour strung,
“And the fond theme of Fame's applauding tongue,
“'Tis said thou hast the stings of fortune felt;
“And such can learn from others woes to melt.
“I had a Daughter—once my only care!—
“As virtuous as thy Consort, and as fair:
“But her (sad cause of folly to repent)
“To Syria with a numerous train I sent;
“And there the toil, the treacherous toil was spread,
“And there Constantia, there, my child, you bled!
“Around the Maid her brave attendants fell,
“Nor one was left the fatal tale to tell:
“Hence age through grief has doubly known decay,
“And care untimely turn'd my locks to grey.
“This day selected from the circling year,
“To her I consecrate the annual tear;
“And these the chiefs, who, in her quarrel crown'd,
“Have late in vengeance bathed the hostile ground.
“But vain is vengeance where all hope is fled;
“Nor hosts of victims can revive the dead!

376

“My child! thou'st robb'd my life of all delight—
“But death shall soon our happier souls unite!”

Nor yet he ended,—when, with troubled mein,
Quick at his knees low bow'd Britannia's Queen:
“Not so, not so, my Father!” loud she cried—
“See here thy Child, thy daughter at thy side!
“Why look you thus with wild and piercing eye?
“Your Daughter here, your Daughter you descry!
“Constantia, who through many a death survives,
“And yet to see her King and Sire, arrives.”
“Yes, yes, you are my child,—these accents tell!”—
He could no more, but on her neck he fell.
Down her soft cheek his mingling tears o'erflow;
Joy, joy too great, assumed the form of woe!
The roof, surprize and echoing transport tore;
And eyes then wept, that never wept before.

377

Wing'd as an arrow from some vigorous arm,
Through Rome's wide city flew the glad alarm—
“Constantia's here,—she lives!—she lives!”—they cried;
“Constantia, now the British Hero's bride!”
Around the palace pour'd in wild delight,
On thousands gathering thousands straight unite:
With ceaseless clamours and extended hands,
Constantia's presence every voice demands;
Constantia, Alla, and their Lovely Boy
They claim, the blooming pledge of future joy!
Forth straight they come conspicuous to the view,
And greet with graceful mien the applauding crew:
In shouts to Heaven their exultations fly,
And universal joy torments the sky.