As icy rockes, which frost together binde,
Stand silent, till as silently they melt.
But when they meet in currents uncoufin'd,
Swell, and grow loud, as if they freedom felt:
So these, unmov'd before, melt quietly

[tears,
In their first grief, till grief (when tears meet
And sighs meet sighs, from every breast and eie)
Unruly grows, and danger's visage bears.
When hastily they heard by whose dire hand
Their gen'ral fell, they think it cold to pause
Till anger may be guided by command,

And vain to ask of cureless death the cause. Some would to Bergamo their ensigues bear, Against those youth which Gondibert had led; Whom they in sacrifice would offer there,

T' appease the living, and revenge the dead. And some (to show their rage more eminent)

Would to Verona march, and there do decds Should make the shining court in blacks lament, And weep whilst the victorious faction bleeds. Hubert (who saw revenge advance so faste,

Whilst prudence, slower pac'd, was left behinde) Would keep their anger bent, yet slack their haste, Because the rash fall oftner than the blinde. He first their melting pitty kindly prais'd,

Which water'd anger's forge, and urg'd their fire; That like to meteors lasts by being rais'd,

But when it first does sink, docs strait expire. Commends their anger, yet that flame he prays May keep the temp'rate chymick's equal heat; That they in fury might not need allays,

Nor charge so rashly as to want retreat. Begs they this dismal night would there remain, And make the hopeful morn their guide; whilst grief

(Which high revenge as tameness should disdain) Sleep shall conceal, and give his wounds relief. He Vasco, Paradine, and Dargonet,

With Oswald, to the red pavilion sent,
(Death's equal pris'ners now for Nature's debt)
And then retires with Borgio to his tent.
This is the night the Brescians so bemoan'd,

Who left their beds, and on their walls appear'd,
As if th' oppressed world in earthquakes groan'd,
Or that some ruin'd nation's sighs they heard;
Admir'd what in that camp such griefs could raise,
Where serious death so oft had been abus'd,
When ev'n their sportive fencers' monthly plays
Profan'd that shape, which states for terrour us'd.
Yet this lowd mourning will no wonder breed,
When we with life lay Oswald's errours by,
And use him as the living use the dead,

Who first allow men vertue when they dy, Still lib'ral of his life, of wealth as free,

By which he chief in fighting crowds became, Who must their leaders' valours often sce,

And follow them for bounty more than fame. This gen'ral mourning was to lowdness rais'd,

By showing gifts he gave, and wounds he took; They chid at last his life which they had prais'd, Because such vertue it so soon forsook.

Now night, by grief neglected, hastes away!
And they the morne's officious asher spy,
The close attendant on the lord of day,

Who shows the warmer of the world is nigh.

And now the drums, the camp's low thunder, make
War's thick united noise from ev'ry guard;
Tho' they reveillees scorn, whom grief does wake,
Who think, sleep, Nature's curse, not toyls
reward.

All night proud Borgio, (chief in Hubert's trust)
With haughty hopes, the camp does waking
Ambition is more vigilant than lust, [keep:

And in hope's feaver is too hot to sleep. Now day and Hubert haste to publick view; His wounds (unlucky more than dangerous) Are so refresh'd, that he the army drew

To a wide grosse, and urg'd their anger thus: "Friends to my father! in whose wounds I see The envy'd merit whence his triumphs came } And fathers to my brother, and to me,

For onely you adopted us to Fame! "Forgive me, that I there have feebly fought,

Where Oswald in your cause did nobly strive; Whence of his blood these veines so much have brought,

As makes me blush that I am still alive! "Your valiant youth is gone, whom you have bred From milkie childhood to the years of blood! By whom you joy'd so often to be led, [stood! Where firme as now your trophys, then you "Gon is he now, who still with low regard

Bow'd to your age, your wounds as beauty kist; Knew age was of your temp'rance the reward,

And courts in beauty by your skarrs subsist. "Yet was he not for mean pretensions slaine,

Who for your inter'st not his own has fought; Vex'd that the empire, which your wounds did gaine,

Was by a young unwounded army sought! "For Gondibert (to whom the court must bow,

Now war is with your fav'rite overthrowne) Will, by his camp of boys at Bergamo,

Wed her, who to your valour owes the crowne. "Blame not your chief for his ambitious fire,

Who was but temp'rate, when he understood He might the empire in your right require;

A scant reward for your exhausted blood." Thus Hubert spake; but now so fierce they grow, That Borgio strove to quench whom Hubert

warm'd:

"To Bergamo!" they cry'd, "to Bergamo!" And as they soon were vex'd, as soon are arm'd. For to distinct and spacious tents they hie,

Where, quick as vests of Persia shifted are, Their arms (which there in cleanly order lie) They take from moving wardrobes of the warre. Arm'd soon as porquepines' as if, like those,

Their very rage them with defence supplies; As borne with it, and must have winged foes That stoop from Heav'n to harme them by

surprise.

With ensignes now display'd, their force they draw
To hasty order, and begin to move;
But are amos'd by something that they saw,
Which look'd like all that ere they heard of love.
Lausual to their camp such objects were,

Yet this no ill effect from wonder wrought;
For it appeas'd them by approaching neer,
And satisfi'd their eies in all they sought.

And this was Gartha, in her chariot drawn,

Who, through the swarthy region of the night, Drove from the court; and as a second dawn Breaks on them, like the morne's reserve of light.

Thro' all the camp she moves with fun'ral pace,
And still bowes meekly down to all she saw ;
Her grief gave speaking beauty to her face,
Which lowly look'd, that it might pitty draw.
When by her slaves her name they understood,
Her lines of feature heedfully they view;
In her complexion track their gen'ral's blood,
And find her more, than what by fame they
knew.

They humbly her to that pavilion guide,

Where Hubert his bold chiefs with fury fir'd; But his ambition, when he Gartha spy'd,

(To give his sorrow place) a while retir'd. With his respectful help she does descend,

Where they with dear imbraces mingle tears, But now her male revenge would grief suspend; Revenge, thro' grief, too feminine appears. But when her dear allies, dead Paradine

And Dargonet, she saw, that manlinesse, Which her weak sex assum'd, she docs decline, As bred too soft, to mannage grief's excesse. Then soon return'd, as loath to show her eics

No more of Oswald than she must forsake; But sorrow's moisture heat of anger dries; And, mounted in her chariot, thus she spake : "If you are those of whom I oft have heard

My father boast, and that of Oswald bred; Ah! where is now that rage our tyrant fear'd,

Whose darling is alive, tho' yours be dead? "The court shines out at Rhodalind's commands, To me (your drooping flowre) no beam can spare ;

Where Oswald's name, new planted by your hands, Withers, as if it lost the planter's care. "From Rhodalind I thus disorder'd fiie,

Least she should say, 'Thy fate unpity'd comes! Goe sing, where now thy father's fighters lie, Thy brother's requiem, to their conqu'ring drums!

"The happy fields by those brave warriours fought,

(Which, from the dictates of thy aged syre, Oswald in high victorious numbers wrot)

Thou shalt no more sing to thy silenc'd lyre!' "Such scorns, pow'r on unlucky vertue throws, When courts with prosp'rous vices wanton are; Who your authentick age despise for those,

Who are to you but infants of the warre." Thus tho' she spake, her looks did more persuade; Like vertuous anger did her colour rise, As if th' injurious world it would invade,

Whilst tears of rage, not pitty, drown her eies. The Sun did thus to threatned Nature show

His anger red, whilst guilt look'd pale in all; When clouds of floods did hang about his brow, And then shrunk back to let that anger fall. And so she turn'd her face, not as to grieve At ruine, but to lisence what she rais'd; Whilst they (like common throngs) all tongues believe, [prais'd. When courts are tax'd, but none when they are

Like commets, courts afflict the vulgar eie;
And when they largest in their glory blaze,
People, through ignorance, think plagues are nie,
And, till they waste, with mourning wouder gaze
These scorn the court's dissertion of their age;
The active, ease impos'd, like pain endure;
For though calm rest does age's pains asswage,
Yet few the sickness own to get the cure.
To Heav'n they lift their looks! whose Sun ne'r saw
Rage so agreed, as now he does behold;
Their shining swords all at an instant draw,
And bad him judge next day if they were old!
And of Verona wish'd him take his leave,

Which, ere his third return, they will destroy, Till none shall guess by ruines where to grieve, No more than Phrygians where to weep for Troy. Thus Bergamo is soon forgot, whilst all Alow'd, "Verona!" cry, "Verona must" (That reach'd the clouds) "low as her quarries fall!"

The court they'll bury in the citie's dust.

GONDIBERT.

CANTO THE FOURTH.

THE ARGUMENT.

At Oswald's camp arrives wise Hermegild,
Whose presence does a new diversion yield:
In councel he reveals his secret breast;
Would mingle love with empire's interest:
From rash revenge, to peace the camp invites,
Who Oswald's fun'ral grace with Roman rites.

In this distemper, whilst the humours strive
T" assemble, they again diverted are;
For tow'rds their trenches twenty chariots drive,
Swiftly as Syrians when they charge in warre.
They Hermegild with court attendants spy'd,

Whose haste to Hubert does advice intend,
To warn him, that just Fate can ne'r provide
For rash beginnings a succesful end.
But Fate for Hermegild provided well;
This story else (which him the wise docs call)
Would here his private ruine sadly tell,

In hastning to prevent the publick fall. His noble blood obscurely had been shed,

His undistinguish'd limbs scatter'd unknown, As is the dust of victors long since dead,

Which here and there by every wind is blown. Such was their rage, when on Verona's way (With his rich trayn) they saw from court he Till some did their impetuous fury stay, [came; And gave his life protection for his fame: Told them his valour had been long allow'd; That much the Lombards to his conduct ow; And this preserv'd him, for the very crowd Felt honour here, and did to valour bow, Vain wrath deform'd, unquiet child of pride! Which in a few the people madness call; But when by number they grew dignify'd, What's rage in some is liberty in all.

Through dangers of this lawless liberty,
He, like authentick pow'r, does boldly pass;
And, with a quiet and experienc'd eye,

Thro' Death's foul vizard does despise his face. At Hubert's tent he lights, where Hubert now With Gartha of this torrent does advise; Which he believes does at the highest flow,

And must, like tides, sink when it cannot rise. When Hermegild he saw, he did disperse

Those cares assembled in his looks, and strove (Though to his master and the court perverse) To show him all the civil signes of love. For him in stormy war he glorious knew, 'Nor in calm councels was he less renown'd; And held him now to Oswald's faction true,

As by his love, the world's first tenure, bound. For he (though wasted in the ebb of blood,

When man's meridian tow'rds his evening turnes) Makes, against Nature's law, love's charter good, And as in raging youth for Gartha burnes. Who did his sute not only disapprove,

Because the summer of his life was past, And she fresh blown; but that even highest love Grows tasteless to ambition's higher taste. Yet now in such a great and single cause, With nice ambition nicer love complies; And she (since to revenge be usefull was) Perswades his hope with rhet'rique of her eyes. A closse division of the tent they strait

By outward guards secure from all resort; Then Hermegild does thus the cause relate, Which to the camp dispatch'd him from the

court:

"Important prince! who justly dost succeed To Oswald's hopes, and all my loyal aide; Vertue as much in all thy wounds does bleed,

As love in me, since wounded by that maide. "Long have I sayl'd thro' Time's vexatious sea, And first set out with all that youth is worth ; The tropicks pass'd of blood's hot bravery,

With all the sailes, gay flags, and streamers forth!

"But as, in hotter voyages, ships most

Weare out their trim, yet then they chiefly gain, By inward stowage, what is outward lost;

So men, decays of youth, repaire in brain.
"If I experience boast when youth decayes,
Such vanity may Gartha's pity move,
Since so I seek your service by self praise,

Rather than seem unusefull where I love.
"And never will I, (though by time supply'd
With such discretion as does man improve)
To show discretion, wiser Nature hide,

By seeming now asham'd to say I love.
"For Love his pow'r has in gray senates shown,
Where he, as to green courts, does freely come;
And tho' loud youth his visits makes more known,
With graver age he's privately at home.
"Scarce Greece, or greater Rome, a victor showes,
Whom more victorious love did not subdue;
Then blame not me, who am so weak to those,

Whilst Gartha all exceeds, that ere they knew. "Hope (love's first food) I ne'er till now did know, Which love as yet but temp'rately devours; And claimes not love for love, since Gartha so

For autumn leaves should barter summer flowers.

"I dare not vainly wish her to be kinde,

Till for her love my arts and pow'r bestow The crown on thee, adorn'd with Rhodalind,

Which yet for Gartha is a price too low."
This said, he paws'd; and now the hectick heate
Of Oswald's blood doubled their pulses' pace;
Which high, as if they would be heard, did beate,
And hot ambition shin'd in either's face.

For Hermegild they knew could much outdoe
His words, and did possess great Aribert,
Not in the court's cheap glass of outward showe,
But by a study'd tenure of the heart.
Whilst this try'd truth does make their wishes sure,
Hubert on Gartha looks with suing eyes

For Hermegild, whose love she will endure,

And made anıbition yield what youth denies.
Yet in this bargain of her self she knowes
Not how to treat; but all her chief desires,
Bids Hubert, as the twins of his, dispose
To glory and revenge; and then retires.
But with such blushes Hermegild she leaves,
As the unclouded evening's face adorn;
Nor much he for her parting glory grieves,

Since such an evening bodes a happy morn.
Now Hermegild by vowes does Hubert binde,
(Vowes by their fate in Lombard story known)
He Gartha makes the price of Rhodalind,
And Aribert his tenant to the crown.
He bids him now the army's rage allay:

"By rage" (said he) "only they masters are Of those they choose, when temp'rate, to obey : Against themselves th' impatient chiefly war. "We are the people's pilots, they our winds,

To change by nature prone; but art laveers, Ard rules them till they rise with stormy mindes, Then art with danger against nature steers. "Where calms have first amus'd, storms most prevail,

Close first with calms the court's suspitious eyes, That whilst, with all their trim, they sleeping sail, A sudden gust may wrack them with surprise. "Your army will (though high in all esteem That ever rev'renc'd age to action gave) But a small party to Verona seem,

Which yearly to such numbers yields a grave. "Nor is our vast metropolis like those

Tame towns, which peace has soft'ned into fears; But Death deform'd in all his dangers knows, Dangers which he, like frightful vizards, wears. "From many camps, who forraign winters felt, Verona has her conqu'ring dwellers ta'ne; In war's great trade, with richest nations delt, And did their gold and fame with iron gain. "Yet to the mighty Aribert it bowes;

A king out doing all the Lombard line! Whose court (in iron clad) by courseness showes A growing pow'r, which fades when courts grow fine.

"Scorn not the youthful camp at Bergamo,

For they are victors, tho' in years but young; The war does them, they it by action know,

And have obedient minds in bodies strong. "Be slow, and stay for aides, which haste forsakes! For though occasion still does sloth out-goe, The rash, who run from help, she ne'r o'ertakes, Whose haste thinks time, the post of Nature, slow.

"This is a cause which our ambition fills;

A cause, in which our strength we should not in vain like giants, who did heave at hills; [waste, 'Tis too unwildly for the force of haste. "A cause for graver mindes that learned are In mistick man; a cause which we must gain By surer methods than depend on warre;

And respite valor, to imploy the brain. "In the king's scale your merits are too light; Who with the duke, weighs his own partial heart: Make then the gift of empire publick right, And get in Rhodalind the people's part. "But this rough tide, the meeting multitude, If we oppose, we make our voyage long; Yet when we with it row, it is subdu'd;

And we are wise, when men in vain are strong. "Then to the people sue, but hide your force;

For they believe the strong are still unjust; Never to armed sutors yield remorse;

And where they see the power, the right distrust. "Assault their pity as their weakest part;

Which the first plaintiff never failes to move; They search but in the face to finde the heart; And grief in princes, more than triumph love. "And to prepare their pity, Gartha now

Should in her sorrows' height with me return; For since their eyes at all distresses flow,

How will they at afflicted beauty mourn? "Much such a pledge of peace will with the king (Urg'd by my int'rest here) my pow'r improve; And much my power will to your int'rest bring,

If from the watchful court you hide my love. "If Gartha deignes to love, our love must grow Unseen, like mandrakes wedded under ground; That I (still seeming unconcern'd) may know The king's new depths, which length of trust may sound!"

Thus Hermegild his study'd thoughts declar'd;
Whilst Hubert (who believ'd discover'd love
A solid pledge for hidden faith) prepar'd

To stay the camp, so furious to remove.
And now their rage (by correspondence spred)
Borgio allays, that else like sparks of fire
(Which drops at first might drown) by matter fed,
At last to quench the flame may seas require.
As with the Sun they rose in wrath, their wrath
So with his heat increas'd; but now he hastes
Down Heav'n's steep hill, to his Atlantick bath;
Where he refreshes till his feaver wastes.
With his (by Borgio's help) their heat declin'd;
So soon lov'd eloquence docs throngs subdue;
The common mistress to each private minde;
Painted and dress'd to all, to no man true.
To court his Gartha, Hermegild attends;

And with old lovers' vaine poetick eyes, Markes how her beauty, when the Sun descends, His pitty'd evening poverty supplies. The army now to neighb'ring Brescia bear, With dismal pomp, the slain. In hallow'd They Paradine, and Dargonet interr;

[ground

And Vasco much in painful war renoun'd. To Oswald (whose illustrious Roman minde Shin'd out in life, though now in dying hid) Hubert these Roman fun'ral rites assign'd; Which yet the workl's last law had not forbid. VOL. VI.

Thrice is his body clean by bathing made; And when with victor's oyle anointed o're, 'Tis in the pallace gate devoutly layd'e,

Clad in that vest which he in battel wore. Whilst seven succeeding Suns pass sadly by,

The palace seems all hid in cypress boughs; From ancient lore, of man's mortality

The type, for where 'tis lopp'd it never grows. The publick fun'ral voice, till these expire, [rests; Cryes out, "Here greatness, tir'd with honour, Come, see what bodies are, when souls retire;

And visit Death, ere you become his gucsts!" Now on a purple bed the corps they raise;

Whilst trumpets summon ail the common quire In tane to mourn him, and disperse his praise;

And then move slowly tow'rds the fun'ral fire! They beare before him spoiles they gain'd in warre; And his great ancestors in sculpture wrought; And now arrive, where Hubert does declare How oft, and well, he for the Lombards fought. Here, in an altar's form, a pile is made

Of unctious firr, and sleepers fatal ewe; On which the body is by mourners laid,

Who their sweet gummes (their last kind tribute) threw.

Hubert his arme, westward, aversly stretch'd; Whilst to the hopefull East his eyes were turn'd; And with a hallow'd torch the pyle he reach'd; Which seen, they all with utmost clamour

mourn'd.

Whil'st full the flame aspires, "Oswald," (they cry)

"Farewell! we follow swiftly as the houres! For with time's wings, towards death, even cripples flie!"

This said, the hungry flame its food devoures. Now priests with wine the ashes quench, and hide The rev'renc'd reliques in a marble urne. The old dismissive Ilicet is cry'd

By the town voice, and all to feasts returne. Thus urnes may bodies show; but the fled minde The learn'd seek vainly, for whose quest we pay, With such success as cousen'd shepheards finde, Who seek to wizards when their cattel stray.

GONDIBERT.

CANTO THE FIFTI

THE ARGUMENT.

The house of Astragon; where in distress
Of Nature, Gondibert for Art's redress
[strife,
Was by old Ulfin brought: where Art's hard
In studying Nature for the aid of life,
Is by full wealth and conduct easie made;
And Truth much visited, though in her shade.

FROM Brescia swiftly o're the bord'ring plain, Return we to the house of Astragon; Where Gondibert, and his successfull train, Kindly lament the victory they won.

Dd

But though I Fame's great book shall open now,
Expect a while, till she that decad reads,
Which does this duke's eternal story show,
And aged Ulfin cites for special deeds.
Where friendship is renown'd in Ulfinore;
Where th' ancient musick of delightful verse,
Does it no less in Goltho's breast adore,

And th' union of their equal hearts rehearse.
These weary victors the descending Sun

Led hither, where swift night did them surprise; And where, for valiant toiles, wise Astragon, With sweet rewards of sleep, did fill their eyes. When to the needy world day did appear,

And freely op'd her treasury of light, His house (where Art and Nature tennants were) The pleasure grew, and bus'ness of their sight. Where Ulfin (who an old domestick seems,

And rules as master in the owner's breast) Leads Goltho to admire what he esteems; And thus, what he had long observ'd, exprest. "Here Art by such a diligence is serv'd,

As does th' unwearied planets imitate; Whose motion (life of Nature) has preserv'd

The world, which God vouchsaf'd but to create. "Those heights, which else dwarf life could never reach,

Here, by the wings of diligence they climbe; Truth (skar'd with terms from canting schools) they teach;

And buy it with the best sav'd treasure, time, "Here all men seem recov'rers of time past; As busie as intentive emmets are;

As alarm'd armies that intrench in haste,

Or cities, whom unlook'd-for sieges skare.

"Much it delights the wise observer's eye, That all these toiles direct to sev'ral skills; Some from the mine to the hot furnace hie, And some from flowry fields to weeping stills. "The first to hopefull chymicks matter bring,

Where medicine they extract for instant cure; These bear the sweeter burthens of the spring; Whose vertues (longer known) though slow, are

sure.

"See there wet divers from Fossone sent!

Who of the sea's deep dwellers knowledge give; Which (more unquiet than their element)

By hungry war, upon each other live. "Pearl to their lord, and cordial coral these Present; which must in sharpest liquids melt; He with nigella cures that dull disease

They get, who long with stupid fish have dwelt. "Others through quarries dig, deeply below

Where desart rivers, cold, and private run; Where bodies' conservation best they know, And mines' long growth, and how their veines begun."

He showes them now tow'rs of prodigious height, Where Nature's friends, philosophers remain To censure meteors in their cause and flight,

And watch the wind's authority on rain. Others with optick tubes the Moon's scant face (Vaste tubes, which like long cedars mounted Attract through glasses to so near a space, As if they came not to survey, but prie.

[lic)

1

Nine hasty centuries are now fulfill'd,

Since opticks first were known to Astragon; By whom the moderns are become so skill'd, They dream of seeing to the maker's throne. And wisely Astragon, thus busie grew,

To seek the stars' remote societies; And judge the walks of th' old, by finding new; For Nature's law, in correspondence lies. Man's pride (grown to religion) he abates,

By moving our lov'd Earth; which we think Think all to it, and it to none relates;

fix'd; With others motion scorn to have it mix'd; As if 'twere great and stately to stand still Whilst other orbes dance on; or else think all Those vaste bright globes (to show God's needless skill)

Were made but to attend our little ball. Now near a sever'd building they discern'd

(Which seem'd, as in a pleasant shade, retir'd) A throng, by whose glad diligence they learn'd, They came from toyles which their own choice desir'd:

This they approach, and as they enter it

Their eyes were stay'd, by reading o'er the gate, GREAT NATURE'S OFFICE, in large letters writ;

And next, they mark'd who there in office sate. Old busie men, yet much for wisdom fam'd; Hasty to know, though not by haste beguil'd; These fitly, Nature's Registers were nam'd;

The throng were their Intelligencers stil'd: Who stop by snares, and by their chase o'retake All hidden beasts the closer forrest yields; All that by secret sence their rescue make,

Or trust their force, or swiftness in the fields. And of this throng, some their imployment have In fleeting rivers, some fix'd lakes beset; Where Nature's self, by shifts, can nothing save From trifling angles, or the swal'wing net. Some, in the spacious ayre, their prey o'retake, Cous'ning, with hunger, falcons of their wings; Whilst all their patient observations make,

Which each to Nature's Office duely brings. And there of ev'ry fish, and foule, and beast, The wiles these learned Registers record, Courage, and feares, their motion and their rest; Which they prepare for their more learned lord. From hence to NATURE'S NURSERY they goe;

Where seems to grow all that in Eden grew; And more (if Art her mingled species show)

Than th' Hebrew king, Nature's historian, knew. Impatient simplers climbe for blossomnes here; When dewes (Heav'n's secret milk) in unseen

show'rs