At length, as public decency requir'd,
And all his vassals eagerly desir'd,
With mind averse, he rather underwent
His people's will, than gave his own consent.
So was she torn, as from a lover's side,
And made almost in his despite a bride.
Short were her marriage joys; for in the prime
Of youth, her lord expir'd before his time;
And to her father's court in little space
Restor'd anew, she held a higher place;
More lov'd, and more exalted into grace.
Much was in little writ; and all convey'd
With cautious care, for fear to be betray'd
By some false confident, or favourite maid.
The time, the place, the manner how to meet,
Were all in punctual order plainly writ:
But, since a trust must be, she thought it best
To put it out of laymen's power at least ;
And for their solemn vows prepar'd a priest.
Guiscard (her secret purpose understood)
With joy prepar'd to meet the coming good;
Nor pains nor danger was resolv'd to spare,
This princess, fresh and young, and fair and wise, But use the means appointed by the fair.
The worship'd idol of her father's eyes,
Did all her sex in every grace exceed,
And had more wit beside than women need. [mind,
Youth, health, and ease, and most an amorous
To second nuptials had her thoughts inclin'd :
And former joys had left a secret sting behind.
But, prodigal in every other graut,
Her sire left unsupply'd her only want;
And she, betwixt her modesty and pride,
Her wishes, which she could not help, would hide.
Resolv'd at last to lose no longer time,
And yet to please herself without a crime,
She cast her eyes around the court, to find
A worthy subject suiting to her mind,
To him in holy nuptials to be ty'd,
A seeming widow, and a secret bride.
Among the train of courtiers, one she found
With all the gifts of bounteous Nature crown'd,
Of gentle blood; but one whose niggard Fate
Had set him far below her high estate;
Guiscard his name was call'd, of blooming age,
Now squire to Tancred, and before his page:
To him, the choice of all the shining crowd,
Her heart the noble Sigismonda vow'd.
Yet hitherto she kept her love conceal'd,
And with those graces every day beheld
The graceful youth; and every day increas'd
The raging fires that burn'd within her breast;
Some secret charm did all her acts attend,
And what his fortune wanted, hers could mend;
Till, as the fire will force its outward way,
Or, in the prison pent. consume the prey;
So long her earnest eyes on his were set,
At length their twisted rays together met;
And he, surpris'd with humble joy, survey'd
One sweet regard, shot by the royal maid:
Not well assur'd, while doubtful hopes he nurs'd,
A second glance came gliding like the first;
And he, who saw the sharpness of the dart,
Without defence receiv'd it in his heart.
In public, though their passion wanted speech,
Yet mutual looks interpreted for each;
Time, ways, and means of meeting were deny'd;
But all those wants ingenious Love supply'd.
Th' inventive god, who never fails his part,
Inspires the wit, when once he warms the heart.
When Guiscard next was in the circle seen,
Where Sigismonda held the place of queen,
A hollow cane within her hand she brought,
Bu n the concave had enclos'd a note;
With this she seem'd to play, and, as in sport,
Toss'd to her love, in presence of the court;
"Take it," she said; “and when your needs require,
This little brand will serve to light your fire."
He took it with a bow, and soon divin'd
The seeming toy was not for nought design'd:
But when retir'd, so long with curious eyes
He view'd his present, that he found the prize.
Next the proud palace of Salerno stood
A mount of rough ascent, and thick with wood.
Through this a cave was dug with vast expense:
The work it seem'd of some suspicious prince,
Who, when abusing power with lawless might,
From public justice would secure his flight.
The passage made by many a winding way,
Reach'd ev'n the room in which the tyrant lay.
Fit for his purpose, on a lower floor,
He lodg'd, whose issue was an iron door;
From whence, by stairs descending to the ground,
In the blind grot a safe retreat he found.
Its outlet ended in a brake o'ergrown [known,
With brambles, choak'd by time, and now un-
A rift there was, which from the mountain's height
Convey'd a glimmering and malignant light,
A breathing-place to draw the damps away,
A twilight of an intercepted day.
The tyrant's den, whose use, though lost to fame,
Was now th' apartment of the royal dame;
The cavern only to her father known,
By him was to his darling daughter shown.
Neglected long she let the secret rest,
Till Love recall'd it to her labouring breast,
And hinted as the way by Heaven design'd
The teacher, by the means he taught, to blind.
What will not women do, when need inspires
Their wit, or love their inclination fires!
Though jealousy of state th' invention found,
Yet love refin'd upon the former ground.
That way, the tyrant had reserv'd, to fly [nigh.
Pursuing heat, now serv'd to bring two lovers
The dame, who long in vain had kept the key,
Bold by desire, explor'd the secret way;
Now try'd the stairs, and, wading through the
night,
Search'd all the deep recess, and issued into light.
All this her letter had so well explain'd,
Th' instructed youth might compass what re-
main'd;
The cavern's mouth alone was hard to find,
Because the path, disus'd, was out of mind:
But in what quarter of the copse it lay,
His eye by certain level could survey:
Yet (for the wood perplex'd with thorns he knew)
A frock of leather o'er his limbs he drew;
And, thus provided, search'd the brake around,
Till the choak'd entry of the cave he found.
Thus, all prepar'd, the promis'd hour arriv'd
So long expected, and so well contriv'd:
With Love to friend, th' impatient lover went,
Fenc'd from the thorns, and trod the deep descent.
The conscious priest, who was suborn'd before,
Stood ready posted at the postern door;
The maids in distant rooms were sent to rest,
And nothing wanted but th' invited guest.
He came, and knocking thrice without delay,
The longing lady heard, and turn'd the key;
At once invaded him with all her charms,
And the first step he made was in her arms:
The leathern outside, boisterous as it was,
Gave way, and bent beneath her strict embrace:
On either side the kisses flew so thick,
That neither he nor she had breath to speak.
The holy man, amaz'd at what he saw,
Made haste to sanctify the bliss by law;
And mutter'd fast the matrimony o'er,
For fear committed sin should get before.
His work perform'd, he left the pair alone,
Because he knew he could not go too soon;
His presence odious, when his task was done.
What thoughts he had beseems me not to say;
Though some surmise he went to fast and pray,
And needed both to drive the tempting thoughts
away.
The foe once gone, they took their full de-
light:
'Twas restless rage, and tempest all the night;
For greedy Love each moment would employ,
And grudg'd the shortest pauses of their joy.
Thus were their loves auspiciously begun,
And thus with secret care were carried on.
The stealth itself did appetite restore,
And look'd so like a sin, it pleas'd the more.
The cave was now become a common way,
The wicket, often open'd, knew the key:
Love rioted secure, and, long enjoy'd,
Was ever cager, and was never cloy'd.
But as extremes are short, of ill and good, And tides at highest mark regorge their flood; So Fate, that could no more improve their joy, Took a malicious pleasure to destroy.
Tancred, who fondly lov'd, and whose delight Was plac'd in his fair daughter's daily sight, Of custom, when his state affairs were done, Would pass his pleasing hours with her alone; And, as a father's privilege allow'd, Without attendance of th' officious crowd.
It happen'd once, that when in heat of day He try'd to sleep, as was his usual way, The balmy slumber fled his wakeful eyes, And fore'd him, in his own despite, to rise: Of sleep forsaken, to relieve his care, He sought the conversation of the fair; But with her train of damsels she was gone, In shady walks the scorching heat to shun : He would not violate that sweet recess, And found besides a welcome heaviness, That seiz'd his eyes; and slumber, which forgot When call'd before to come, now came unsought. From light retir'd, behind his daughter's bed, He for approaching sleep compos'd his head; A chair was ready, for that use design'd, So quilted, that he lay at ease reclin'd; The curtains closely drawn, the light to skreen, As if he had contriv'd to lie unseen: Thus cover'd with an artificial night, Sleep did his office soon, and seal'd his sight. With Heaven averse, in this ill-omen'd hour Was Guiscard summon'd to the secret bower, And the fair nymph, with expectation fir'd, From her attending damsels was retir'd: For, true to love, she measur'd time so right, As not to miss one moment of delight. The garden, seated on the level floor, She left behind, and, locking every door, Thought all secure; but little did she know, Bund to her fate, she had enclos'd her foe.
Attending Guiscard, in his leathern frock,
Stood ready, with his thrice-repeated knock:
Thrice with a doleful sound the jarring grate
Rung deaf and hollow, and presag'd their fate.
The door unlock'd, to known delight they haste,
And, panting in each other's arms embrac'd,
Rush to the conscious bed, a mutual freight,
And heedless press it with their wonted weight.
The sudden bound awak'd the sleeping sire,
And show'd a sight no parent can desire;
His opening eyes at once with odious view
The love discover'd, and the lover knew:
He would have cry'd; but hoping that he dreamt,
Amazement ty'd his tongue, and stopp'd th'
Th' ensuing moment all the truth declar'd,
But now he stood collected, and prepar'd,
For malice and revenge had put him on his
guard.
So like a lion, that unheeded lay,
Dissembling sleep, and watchful to betray,
With inward rage he meditates his prey.
The thoughtless pair, indulging their desires;
Alternate, kindled, and then quench'd their fires;
Nor thinking in the shades of death they play'd,
Full of themselves, themselves alone survey'd,
And, too secure, were by themselves betray'd.
Long time dissolv'd in pleasure thus they lay,
Till nature could no more suffice their play;
Then rose the youth, and through the cave again
Return'd; the princess mingled with her train.
Resolv'd his unripe vengeance to defer,
The royal spy, when now the coast was clear,
Sought not the garden, but retir'd unseen,
To brood in secret on his gather'd spleen,
And methodize revenge: to death he griev'd;
And, but he saw the crime, had scarce believ'd.
Th' appointment for th' ensuing night he heard;
And therefore in the cavern had prepar'd
Two brawny yeomen of his trusty guard.
Scarce had unwary Guiscard set his foot
Within the foremost entrance of the grot,
When these in secret ambush ready lay;
And rushing on the sudden seiz'd the prey:
Encumber'd with his frock, without defence,
An easy prize, they led the prisoner thence,
And, as commanded, brought before the prince.
The gloomy sire, too sensible of wrong,
To vent his rage in words, restrain'd his tongue,
And only said, "Thus servants are preferr'd,
And, trusted, thus their sovereigns they reward.
Had I not seen, had not these eyes receiv'd
Too clear a proof, I could not have believ'd."
He paus'd, and choak'd the rest. The youth, His forfeit life abandon'd to the law, [who saw The judge the accuser, and th' offence to him Who had both power and will t' avenge the crime, No vain defence prepar'd; but thus reply'd: "The faults of love by Love are justify'd: With unresisted might the monarch reigns, He levels mountains, and he raises plains; And, not regarding difference of degree, Abas'd your daughter, and exalted me.” This bold return with seeming patience heard, The prisoner was remitted to the guard. The sullen tyrant slept not all the night, But, lonely walking by a winking light, Sobb'd, wept, and groan'd, and beat his wither'd breast,
But would not violate his daughter's rest;
Fain would I choose a middle course to steer;
Who long expecting lay, for bliss prepar'd,
Listening for noise, and griev'd that none she Nature's too kind, and Justice too severe;
Oft rose, and oft in vain employ'd the key,
And oft accus'd her lover of delay;
And pass'd the tedious hours in anxious thoughts away.
The morrow came; and at his usual hour Old Tancred visited his daughter's bower; Her cheek (for such his custom was) he kiss'd, Then bless'd her kneeling, and her maids disThe royal dignity thus far maintain'd, Now left in private, he no longer feign'd; But all at once his grief and rage appear'd, And floods of tears ran trickling down his beard. "O Sigismonda," he began to say: Thrice he began, and thrice was forc'd to stay, Till words with often trying found their way: "I thought, O Sigismonda, (but how blind) Are parents' eyes, their children's faults to find!) Thy virtue, birth, and breeding were above A mean desire, and vulgar sense of love: Nor less than sight and hearing could convince So fond a father, and so just a prince, Of such an unforeseen and unbeliev'd offence, Then what indignant sorrow must I have To see thee lie subjected to my slave! A man so smelling of the people's lee, The court receiv'd him first for charity; And since with no degree of honour grac'd, But only suffer'd, where he first was plac'd. A groveiling insect still; and so design'd By Nature's hand, nor born of noble kind: A thing, by neither man nor woman priz'd, And scarcely known enough to be despis'd. To what has Heaven reserv'd my age? Ah! why Should man, when Nature calls, not choose to die, Rather than stretch the span of life, to find Such ills as Fate has wisely cast behind, For those to feel, whom fond desire to live Makes covetous of more than life can give! Each has his share of good; and when 'tis gone, The guest, though hungry, cannot rise too soon. But I, expecting more, in my own wrong Protracting life, have liv'd a day too long. If yesterday could be recall'd again, Ev'n now would I conclude my happy reign; But 'tis too late, my glorious race is run, And a dark cloud o'ertakes my setting sun. Had'st thou not lov'd, or loving sav'd the shame, If not the sin, by some illustrious name, This little comfort had reliev'd my mind, 'Twas frailty, not unusual to thy kind: But thy low fall beneath thy royal blood Shows downward appetite to mix with mud: Thus not the least excuse is left for the, Nor the least refuge for unhappy me.
"For him I have resolv'd: whom by surprise I took, and scarce can call it, in disguise; For such was his attire, as, with intent Of Nature, suited to his mean descent: The harder question yet remains behind, What pains a parent and a prince can find To punish an offence of this degenerate kind. "As I have lov'd, and yet I love thee more Than ever father lov'd a child before; So that indulgence draws me to forgive; Nature, that gave thee life, would have thee live; But, as a public parent of the state, My justice, and thy crime, requires thy fate.
Speak for us both, and to the balance bring
On either side the father and the king.
Heaven knows, my heart is bent to favour thee;
Make it but scanty weight, and leave the rest to me."
Here stopping with a sigh, he pour'd a flood
Of tears, to make his last expression good.
She, who had heard him speak, nor saw alone
The secret conduct of her love was known,
But he was taken who her soul possess'd,
Felt all the pangs of sorrow in her breast,
And little wanted, but a woman's heart,
With cries and tears had testify'd her smart;
But inborn Worth, that Fortune can control,
New strung and stiffer bent her softer soul;
The heroine assum'd the woman's place,
Confirm'd her mind, and fortify'd her face:
Why should she beg, or what could she pretend,
When her stern father had condemn'd her friend?
Her life she might have had; but her despair
Of saving his, had put it past her care;
Resolv'd on fate, she would not lose her breath,
But, rather than not die, solicit death.
Fix'd on this thought, she, not as women use,
Her fault by common frailty would excuse;
But boldly justify'd her innocence,
And while the fact was own'd, deny'd th' offence:
Then with dry eyes, and with an open look,
She met his glance mid-way, and thus undaunted
"Tancred, I neither am dispos'd to make [spoke:
Request for life, nor offer'd life to take;
Much less deny the deed; but least of all
Beneath pretended justice weakly fall.
My words to sacred truth shall be confin'd,
My deeds shall show the greatness of my mind,
That I have lov'd, I own; that still I love,
I call to witness all the powers above:
Yet more I own: to Guiscard's love I give
The small remaining time I have to live;
And if beyond this life desire can be,
Not Fate itself shall set my passion free.
This first avow'd; nor folly warp'd my mind,
Nor the frail texture of the female kind
Betray'd my virtue: for, too well I knew
What honour was, and Honour had his due:
Before the holy priest my vows were ty'd,
So came I not a strumpet, but a bride.
This for my fame, and for the public voice:
Yet more, his merits justify'd my choice:
Which had they not, the first election thine,
That bond dissolv'd, the next is freely mine;
Or grant I err'd, (which yet I must deny)
Had parents pow'r ev'n second vows to tie,
Thy little care to mend my widow'd nights,
Has forc'd me to recourse of marriage rites,
To fill an empty side, and follow known delights.
What have I done in this, deserving blame?
State-laws may alter: Nature's are the same;
Those are usurp'd on helpless woman-kind,
Made without our consent, and wanting power
to bind.
"Thou, Tancred, better should have understood,
That as thy father gave thee flesh and blood,
So gav'st thou me: not from the quarry hew'd,
But of a softer mould, with sense endu'd;
Ev'n softer than thy own, of suppler kind,
More exquisite of taste, and more than man refin'd.
Nor need'st thou by thy daughter to be told,
Though now thy spritely blood with age be cold,
Thou hast been young: and canst remember still, | Yet this we see, though order'd for the best,
That when thou hadst the power, thou hadst the
will;
And from the past experience of thy fires,
Canst tell with what a tide our strong desires
Come rushing on in youth, and what their rage
requires.
“And grant thy youth was exercis'd in arms,
When Love.no leisure found for softer charms,
My tender age in luxury was train'd,
With idle ease and pageants entertain'd;
My hours my own, my pleasures unrestrain'd.
So bred, no wonder if I took the bent
That seem'd ev'n warranted by thy consent;
For, when the father is too fondly kind,
Such seed he sows, such harvest shall be find.
Blame then thyself, as reason's law requires,
(Since Nature gave, and thou foment'st my
fires)
If still those appetites continue strong,
Thou may'st consider I am yet but young:
Consider too, that, having been a wife,
I must have tasted of a better life;
And am not to be blam'd, if I renew
By lawful means the joys which then I knew.
Where was the crime, if pleasure I procur'd,
Young, and a woman, and to bliss inur'd!
That was my case, and this is my defence:
I pleas'd myself, I shunn'd incontinence,
And, urg'd by strong desires, indulg'd my sense.
"Left to myself, I must avow, I strove
From public shame to screen my secret love,
And, well acquainted with thy native pride,
Endeavour'd what I could not help, to hide;
For which a woman's wit an easy way supply'd.
How this, so well contriv'd, so closely laid,
Was known to thee, or by what chance betray'd,
Is not my care; to please thy pride alone,
I could have wish'd it had been still unknown.
"Nor took I Guiscard by blind fancy led,
Or hasty choice, as many women wed;
But with deliberate care, and ripen'd thought,
At leisure first design'd, before I wrought:
On him I rested, after long debate,
And, not without considering, fix'd my fate:
His flame was equal, though by mine inspir'd;
(For so the difference of our birth requir'd)
Had he been born like me, like me his love
Had first begun, what mine was fore'd to move:
But thus beginning, thus we persevere;
Our passions yet continue what they were,
Nor length of trial makes our joys the less sincere.
At this my choice, though not by thine allow'd
(Thy judgment herding with the common crowd)
Thou tak'st unjust offence; and, led by them,
Dost less the merit, than the man esteem.
Too sharply, Tancred, by thy pride betray'd,
Hast thou against the laws of kind inveigh'd:
For all th' offence is in opinion plac'd,
Which deems high birth by lowly choice debas'd.
This thought alone with fury fires thy breast
(For boly marriage justifies the rest)
That I have sunk the glories of the state,
And mix'd my blood with a plebeian mate;
In which I wonder thou should'st oversee
Superior causes, or impute to me
The fault of Fortune, or the Fates' decree.
Or call it Heaven's imperial power alone,
Which moves on springs of justice, though un-
known.
The bad exalted, and the good oppress'd;
Permitted laurels grace the lawless brow,
Th' unworthy rais'd, the worthy cast below.
"But leaving that: search we the secret springs,
And backward trace the principles of things;
There shall we find, that when the world began,
One common mass compos'd the mould of man;
One paste of flesh on all degrees bestow'd,
And kneaded up alike with moistening blood.
The same Almighty Power inspir'd the frame
With kindled life, and form'd the souls the same:
The faculties of intellect and will
[skill,
Dispens'd with equal hand, dispos'd with equal
Like liberty indulg'd with choice of good or ill:
Thus born alike, from virtue first began
The difference that distinguish'd man from man:
He claim'd no title from descent of blood,
But that which made him noble made him good:
Warm'd with more particles of heavenly flame,
He wing'd his upright flight, and soar'd to fame;
The rest remain'd below, a tribe without a name.
"This law, though custom now diverts the
As Nature's institute, is yet in force; [course,
Uncancell'd, though disus'd; and he, whose mind
Is virtuous, is alone of noble kind;
Though poor in fortune, of celestial race;
And he commits the crime who calls him base.
"Now lay the line; and measure all thy court,
By inward virtue, not external port;
And find whom justly to prefer above
The man on whom my judgment plac'd my love:
So shalt thou see his parts and person shine;
And, thus compared, the rest a base degenerate
Nor took 1, when I first survey'd thy court,
His valour, or his virtues, on report;
But trusted what I ought to trust alone,
Relying on thy eyes, and not my own;
Thy praise (and thine was then the public voice)
First recommended Guiscard to my choice:
Directed thus by thee, I look'd, and found
A man I thought deserving to be crown'd;
First by my father pointed to my sight,
Nor less conspicuous by his native light;
His mind, his mien, the features of his face,
Excelling all the rest of human race;
These were thy thoughts, and thou could'st judge
aright,
Till interest made a jaundice in thy sight;
Or should I grant thou didst not rightly see;
Then thou wert first deceiv'd, and I deceiv'd by
thee.
But if thou shalt alledge through pride of mind,
Thy blood with one of base condition join'd,
"Tis false; for 'tis not baseness to be poor;
His poverty augments thy crime the more;
Upbraids thy justice with the scant regard
Of worth; whom princes praise, they should re-
ward.
Are these the kings intrusted by the crowd
With wealth, to be dispens'd for common good?
The people sweat not for their king's delight,
T' enrich a pimp, or raise a parasite;
Theirs is the toil; and he, who well has serv'd
His country, has his country's wealth deserv'd.
Ev'n mighty monarchs oft are meanly born,
And kings by birth to lowest rank return;
All subject to the power of giddy Chance,
For Fortune can depress, or can advance:
But true nobility is of the mind,
Not given by chance, and not to chance design'd.
For the remaining doubt of thy decree,
What to resolve, and how dispose of me,
Be warn'd to cast that useless care aside,
Myself alone will for myself provide,
If, in thy doting and decrepit age,
Thy soul, a stranger in thy youth to rage,
Begins in cruel deeds to take delight,
Gorge with my blood thy barbarous appetite;
For I so little am dispos'd to pray
For life, I would not cast a wish away.
Such as it is, th' offence is all my own;
And what to Guiscard is already done,
Or to be done, is doom'd by thy decree,
That, if not executed first by thee,
Shail on my person be perform'd by me.
She needed not be told, within whose breast
It lodg'd; the message had explain'd the rest.
Or not amaz'd, or hiding her surprise,
She sternly on the bearer fix'd her eyes:
Then thus; "Tell Tancred, on his daughter's part,
The gold, though precious, equals not the heart:
But he did well to give his best; and I,
Who wish'd a worthier urn, forgive his poverty."
At this she curb'd a groan, that else had come,
And, pausing, view'd the present in the tomb;
Then, to the heart ador'd devoutly glew'd
Her lips, and, raising it, her speech renew'd:
Ev'n from my day of birth, to this, the bound
Of my unhappy being, I have found
My father's care and tenderness express'd;
But this last act of love excels the rest :
For this so dear a present, bear him back
Away, with women weep, and leave me here, The best return that I can live to make.”
Fix'd like a man, to die without a tear;
Or save, or slay us both this present hour,
'Tis all that Fate has left within thy power.”
She said; nor did her father fail to find,
In all she spoke, the greatness of her mind;
Yet thought she was not obstinate to die,
Nor de m'd the death she promis'd was so nigh:
Secure in this belief, he left the dame,
Resolv'd to spare her life, and save her shame;
But that detested object to remove,
To wreak his vengeance, and to cure her love.
Intent on this, a secret order sign'd,
The death of Guiscard to his guards enjoin'd;
Strangling was chosen, and the night the time,
A mute revenge, and blind as was the crime:
His faithful heart, a bloody sacrifice,
Torn from his breast, to glut the tyrant's eyes,
Clos'd the severe command (for slaves to pay):
What kings deerre, the soldier must obey,
Wag'd against foes; and when the wars are o'er,
Fit only to maintain despotic power;
Dangerous to freedom, and desir'd alone
By kings, who scek an arbitrary throne:
Such were these guards; as ready to have slain
The prince himself, allur'd with greater gain;
So was the charge perform'd with better will,
By men inur'd to blood, and exercis'd in ill.
Now, though the sullen sire had eas'd his mind,
The pomp of his revenge was yet behind,
A pomp prepar'd to grace the present he design'd.
A goblet rich with gems, and rou h with gold,
Of depth, and breadth, the precious pledge to hold,
With cruel care he chose: the hollow part
Enclos'd, the lid conceal'd the lover's heart:
Then of his trusted mischiefs one he sent,
And bade him with these words the gift present:
"Thy father sends thee this to cheer thy breast,
And glad thy sight with what thou lov'st the best;
As thou hast pleas'd his eyes, and joy'd his mind,
With what he lov'd the most of human-kind."
Ere this the royal dame, who well had weigh'd
The consequence of what her sire had said,
Fix'd on her fate, against th' expected hour
Procur'd the means to have it in her power;
For this, she had distill'd with early care
The juice of simples friendly to despair,
A magazine of death; and thus prepar'd,
Secure to die, the fatal message heard:
Then smil'd severe; nor with a troubled look,
Or trembling hand, the funeral present took:
Ev'n kept her countenance, when the lid remov'd
Disclos'd the heart, unfortunately lov'd;
The messenger dispatch'd, again she view'd
The lov'd remains, and sighing thus pursu'd:
"Source of my life, and lord of my desires,
In whom I liv'd, with whom my soul expires,
Poor Heart, no more the spring of vital heat,
Curs'd be the hands that tore thee from thy seat!
The course is finish'd which thy Fates decreed,
And thou from thy corporeal prison freed:
Soon hast thou reach'd the goal with mended pace,
A world of woes dispatch'd in little space;
Forc'd by thy worth, thy foe, in death become
Thy friend, has lodg'd thee in a costly tomb.
There yet remain'd thy funeral exequies,
The weeping tribute of thy widow's eyes,
And those, judulgent Heaven has found the way
That I, before my death, have leave to pay.
My father ev'n in cruelty is kind,
Or Heaven has turn'd the malice of his mind
To better uses than his hate design'd;
And made th' insult, which in his gift appears,
The means to mourn thee with my pious tears;
Which I will pay thee down, before I go,
And save myself the pains to weep below,
If souls can weep; though once I meant to meet
My fate with face unmov'd, and eyes unwet,
Yet since I have thee here in narrow room,
My tears shall set thee first afloat within thy
Then (as I know thy spirit hovers nigh) [tomb:
Under thy friendly conduct will 1 fly
To regions unexplor'd, secure to share
Thy state; nor Hell shall punishment appcar;
And Heaven is double Heaven, if thou art there."
She said: her brimful eyes, that ready stood,
And only wanted will to keep a flood,
Releas'd their watery store, and pour'd amain,
Like clouds, low hung, a sober shower of rain :
Mute solemn sorrow, free from female noise,
Such as the majesty of grief destroys;
For, bending o'er the cup, the tears she shed
Seem'd by the posture to discharge her head,
O'erfill'd before, (and oft her mouth apply'd
To the cold heart) she kiss'd at once, and cry'd.
Her maids, who stood amaz'd, nor knew the cause
Of her complaining, nor whose heart it was,
Yet all due measures of her mourning kept,
Did office at the dirge, and by infection wept;
And oft inquir'd th' occasion of her grief
(Unanswer'd but by sighs) and offer'd vain relief.
At length, her stock of tears already shed,
She wip'd her eyes, she rais'd her drooping head,
And thus pursu'd: “O ever faithful Heart,
I have perform'd the ceremonial part,
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