Pyrrhus pursues him, now o'ertakes, now kills,
And his last blood in Priam's presence spills.
The king (though him so many deaths enclose)
Nor fear, nor grief, but indignation shows;
The gods requite thee (if within the care
Of those above th' affairs of mortals are),
Whose fury on the son but lost had been,
Had not his parents' eyes his murder seen:
Not that Achilles (whom thou feign'st to be
Thy father) so inhuman was to me;

He blush'd, when I the rights of arms implored;
To me my Hector, me to Troy, restored.'

This said, his feeble arm a jav'lin flung,

Which on the sounding shield, scarce ent'ring, rung.
Then Pyrrhus; 'Go a messenger to hell
Of my black deeds, and to my father tell
The acts of his degen'rate race.' So through
His son's warm blood the trembling king he drew
To th' altar; in his hair one hand he wreathes;
His sword the other in his bosom sheaths.
Thus fell the king, who yet surviv'd the state,
With such a signal and peculiar fate,

Under so vast a ruin, not a grave,

Nor in such flames a fun'ral fire to have:

He whom such titles swell'd, such power made proud, To whom the sceptres of all Asia bow'd,

On the cold earth lies th' unregarded king,

A headless carcase, and a nameless thing.

522

530

540

ON THE EARL OF STRAFFORD'S TRIAL AND DEATH.

GREAT Strafford! worthy of that name, though all
Of thee could be forgotten, but thy fall,
Crush'd by imaginary treason's weight,
Which too much merit did accumulate.

As chemists gold from brass by fire would draw,
Pretexts are into treason forged by law.
His wisdom such, at once it did appear

Three kingdoms' wonder, and three kingdoms' fear;
Whilst single he stood forth, and seem'd, although
Each had an army, as an equal foe.

Such was his force of eloquence, to make

The hearers more concern'd than he that spake;
Each seem'd to act that part he came to see,
And none was more a looker-on than he;
So did he move our passions, some were known
To wish, for the defence, the crime their own.
Now private pity strove with public hate,
Reason with rage, and eloquence with fate:
Now they could him, if he could them, forgive;

He's not too guilty, but too wise, to live;

Less seem those facts which treason's nickname bore,

Than such a fear'd ability for more.

They after death their fears of him express,

His innocence and their own guilt confess.
Their legislative frenzy they repent,

Enacting it should make no precedent.

This fate he could have 'scaped, but would not lose
Honour for life, but rather nobly chose

Death from their fears, than safety from his own,

That his last action all the rest might crown.

10

20

30

ON MY LORD CROFT'S AND MY JOURNEY INTO POLAND,

FROM WHENCE WE BROUGHT £10,000 FOR HIS MAJESTY, BY THE DECIMATION OF HIS SCOTTISH SUBJECTS THERE.

1 Toll, toll,

Gentle bell, for the soul

Of the pure ones in Pole,

Which are damn'd in our scroll.

2 Who having felt a touch
Of Cockram's greedy clutch,
Which though it was not much,
Yet their stubbornness was such,

3 That when we did arrive,

'Gainst the stream we did strive;
They would neither lead nor drive;

4 Nor lend

An ear to a friend,

Nor an answer would send

To our letter so well penn'd;

5 Nor assist our affairs

With their moneys nor their wares,
As their answer now declares,
But only with their prayers.

6 Thus they did persist

Did and said what they list,
"Till the Diet was dismiss'd;
But then our breech they kiss'd.

7 For when

It was moved there and then,
They should pay one in ten,
The Diet said, Amen.

8 And because they are loth
To discover the troth,

They must give word and oath,
Though they will forfeit both.

9 Thus the constitution

Condemns them every one,
From the father to the son.

10 But John

(Our friend) Mollesson
Thought us to have outgone
With a quaint invention.

11 Like the prophets of yore,
He complain'd long before,
Of the mischiefs in store,
Ay, and thrice as much more;

12 And with that wicked lie, A letter they came by From our King's majesty.

13 But fate

Brought the letter too late,
"Twas of too old a date

To relieve their damn'd state.

14 The letter's to be seen,
With seal of wax so green,
At Dantzig, where 't has been
Turn'd into good Latin.

15 But he that gave the hint,
This letter for to print,
Must also pay his stint.

16 That trick,

Had it come in the nick,
Had touch'd us to the quick;
But the messenger fell sick.

17 Had it later been wrote,
And sooner been brought,
They had got what they sought;
But now it serves for nought.

18 On Sandys they ran aground,
And our return was crown'd
With full ten thousand pound.

ON MR THOMAS KILLIGREW'S RETURN FROM VENICE, AND MR WILLIAM MURREY'S FROM SCOTLAND.

1 OUR resident Tom,

From Venice is come,

And hath left the statesman behind him;

Talks at the same pitch,

Is as wise, is as rich;

And just where you left him, you find him.