Complete Works of William Congreve

by William Congreve

  Who rules the fair Extent of Phrygia’s Lands,

  And all her Towns and Fortresses commands. 155

  When yet an Infant, I to Troy was brought,

  There was I nurs’d, and there, your Language taught;

  Then wonder not, if, thus instructed young,

  I, like my own, can speak the Trojan Tongue.

  In me, one of Diana’s Nymphs behold; 160

  Why thus arriv’d, I shall the Cause unfold.

  As, late, our Sports we practis’d on the Plain,

  I, and my Fellow Nymphs of Cynthia’s Train,

  Dancing in Chorus, and with Garlands crown’d.

  And by admiring Crowds encompass’d round, 165

  Lo! hov’ring o’er my Head I saw the God

  Who Argus slew, and bears the golden Rod:

  Sudden he seiz’d, then, bore me from their Sight,

  Cutting thro’ liquid Air his rapid Flight.

  O’er many States and peopled Towns we pass’d, 170

  O’er Hills and Valleys, and o’er Desarts waste;

  O’er barren Moors, and o’er unwholesome Fens,

  And Woods where Beasts inhabit dreadful Dens.

  Thro’ all which pathless Way our Speed was such,

  We stopt not once the Face of Earth to touch. 175

  Mean time he told me, while thro’ Air we fled,

  That Jove ordain’d I should Anchises wed,

  And with illustrious Off-spring bless his Bed.

  This said, and pointing to me your Abode,

  To Heav’n again up-soar’d the swift-wing’d God. 180

  Thus, of Necessity, to you I come,

  Unknown, and lost, far from my native home.

  But I conjure you, by the Throne of Jove,

  By all that’s dear to you, by all you love,

  By your good Parents, (for no bad, could e’er 185

  Produce a Son so graceful, good, and fair:)

  That you no Wiles employ to win my Heart,

  But let me hence an untouch’d Maid depart;

  Inviolate and guiltless of your Bed,

  Let me be to your House and Mother led. 190

  Me to your Father and your Brothers show,

  And our Alliance first let them allow:

  Let me be known, and my Condition own’d,

  And no unequal Match I may be found.

  Equality to them my Birth may claim, 195

  Worthy a Daughter’s or a Sister’s Name,

  Tho’ for your Wife, of too inferior Fame.

  Next, let Ambassadors to Phrygia haste

  To tell my Father of my Fortunes pass’d,

  And ease my Mother in that anxious State, 200

  Of Doubts and Fears, which, Cares for me create.

  They in return shall Presents bring from thence

  Of rich Attire, and Sums of Gold immense:

  You in peculiar shall with Gifts be grac’d,

  In Price and Beauty far above the rest. 205

  This done, perform the Rites of Nuptial Love,

  Grateful to Men below, and Gods above.

  She said, and from her Eyes shot subtle Fires,

  Which to his Heart insinuate Desires.

  Resistless Love invading thus his Breast, 210

  The panting Youth the smiling Queen address’d.

  Since Mortal you, of mortal Mother came,

  And Otreus you report your Father’s Name,

  And since th’Immortal Hermes from above,

  To execute the dread Commands of Jove, 215

  Your wondrous Beauties hither has convey’d,

  A Nuptial Life with me henceforth to lead:

  Know, now, that neither Gods nor Men have Pow’r

  One Minute to defer the happy Hour,

  This Instant will I seize upon thy Charms, 220

  Mix with thy Soul, and melt within thy Arms:

  Tho’ Phœbus, arm’d with his unerring Dart,

  Stood ready to transfix my panting Heart;

  Tho’ Death, tho’ Hell, in consequence attend,

  Thou shalt with me the Genial Bed ascend. 225

  He said, and sudden snatch’d her beauteous Hand;

  The Goddess smil’d, nor did th’Attempt withstand:

  But fix’d her Eyes upon the Hero’s Bed,

  Where soft and silken Coverlets were spread,

  And over all, a Counterpane was plac’d, 230

  Thick sown with Furs of many a Savage Beast,

  Of Bears and Lions, heretofore his Spoil;

  And still remain’d the Trophies of his Toil.

  Now to ascend the Bed they both prepare,

  And he with eager Haste disrobes the Fair. 235

  Her sparkling Necklace, first, he laid aside;

  Her Bracelets next, and braided Hair unty’d:

  And now, his busie Hand her Zone unbrac’d,

  Which girt her radiant Robe around her Waste;

  Her radiant Robe at last aside was thrown, 240

  Whose rosie hue with dazling Lustre shone.

  The Queen of Love, the Youth thus disarray’d,

  And on a Chair of Gold her Vestments laid.

  Anchises now, (so Jove and Fate ordain’d)

  The sweet Extream of Ecstacy attain’d; 245

  And Mortal he, was like th’Immortals bless’d,

  Not conscious of the Goddess he possess’d.

  But, when the Swains their Flocks and Herds had fed,

  And from the flow’ry Field returning, led

  Their Sheep to fold, and Oxen to the Shed; 250

  In soft and pleasing Chains of Sleep profound,

  The wary Goddess her Anchises bound:

  Then gently rising from his Side and Bed,

  In all her bright Attire her Limbs array’d.

  And now her Fair-crown’d Head aloft she rears, 255

  Nor more a Mortal, but her self appears:

  Her Face refulgent, and Majestick Mien,

  Confess’d the Goddess, Love’s and Beauty’s Queen.

  Then, thus, aloud she calls. Anchises, wake;

  Thy fond Repose and Lethargy forsake: 260

  Look on the Nymph who late from Phrygia came,

  Behold me well — say, if I seem the same.

  At her first Call the Chains of Sleep were broke,

  And starting from his Bed, Anchises woke:

  But when he Venus view’d without Disguise, 265

  Her shining Neck beheld, and radiant Eyes;

  Aw’d, and abash’d, he turn’d his Head aside,

  Attempting, with his Robe his Face to hide.

  Confus’d with Wonder, and with Fear oppress’d,

  In winged Words, he thus the Queen address’d. 270

  When first, O Goddess, I thy Form beheld,

  Whose Charms so far Humanity excell’d;

  To thy Celestial Pow’r my Vows I paid,

  And with Humility implor’d thy Aid:

  But thou, for secret Cause to me unknown, 275

  Didst thy Divine Immortal State disown.

  But now, I beg thee by the Filial Love

  Due to thy Father, Ægis-bearing Jove,

  Compassion on my human State to show;

  Nor let me lead a Life infirm below: 280

  Defend me from the Woes which Mortals wait,

  Nor let me share of Men the common Fate:

  Since never Man with length of Days was blest,

  Who in Delights of Love a Deity possess’d.

  To him, Jove’s beauteous Daughter thus reply’d; 285

  Be bold, Anchises; in my Love confide:

  Nor me, nor other God, thou needst to fear,

  For thou, to all the heav’nly Race art Dear.

  Know, from our Loves, thou shalt a Son obtain,

  Who over all the Realm of Troy shall reign; 290

  From whom, a Race of Monarchs shall descend,

  And whose Posterity shall know no End.

  To him thou shalt the Name Æneas give,

  A
s one, for whose Conception I must grieve,

  Oft as I think, he to exist began 295

  From my Conjunction with a Mortal Man.

  But Troy, of all the habitable Earth,

  To a superior Race of Men gives Birth;

  Producing Heroes of th’Ætherial kind,

  And next resembling Gods in Form and Mind. 300

  From thence, great Jove to azure Skies convey’d

  To live with Gods, the lovely Ganymede.

  Where, by th’Immortals honour’d, (strange to see!)

  The Youth enjoys a bless’d Eternity.

  In Bouls of Gold, he ruddy Nectar pours, 305

  And Jove regales in his unbended Hours.

  Long did the King, his Sire, his Absence mourn,

  Doubtful, by whom, or where the Boy was born:

  ‘Till Jove at length, in pity of his Grief,

  Dispatch’d Argicides to his Relief; 310

  And more with Gifts to pacifie his Mind,

  He sent him Horses of a deathless kind,

  Whose Feet outstript in Speed the rapid Wind.

  Charging withal swift Hermes to relate

  The Youth’s Advancement to a heav’nly State; 315

  Where, all his Hours are past in circling Joy,

  Which Age can ne’er decay, nor Death destroy.

  Now, when this Embassie the King receives,

  No more for absent Ganimede he grieves;

  The pleasing News his aged Heart revives, 320

  And with Delight his Swift-heel’d Steeds he drives.

  But when the Golden-thron’d Aurora, made

  Tithonus Partner of her rosie Bed,

  (Tithonus too was of the Trojan Line,

  Resembling Gods in Face and Form Divine) 325

  For him she strait the Thunderer address’d,

  That with perpetual Life he might be bless’d:

  Jove heard her Pray’r, and granted her Request.

  But ah! how rash was she, how indiscreet!

  The most material Blessing to omit; 330

  Neglecting, or not thinking to provide,

  That Length of Days might be with Strength supply’d;

  And to her Lover’s endless Life, engage

  An endless Youth, incapable of Age.

  But hear what Fate befell this heav’nly Fair, 335

  In Gold enthron’d, the brightest Child of Air.

  Tithonus, while of pleasing Youth possess’d,

  Is by Aurora with Delight caress’d;

  Dear to her Arms, he in her Court resides,

  Beyond the Verge of Earth, and Ocean’s utmost Tides. 340

  But, when she saw grey Flairs begin to spread,

  Deform his Beard, and disadorn his Head,

  The Goddess cold in her Embraces grew,

  His Arms declin’d, and from his Bed withdrew;

  Yet still a kind of nursing Care she show’d, 345

  And Food ambrosial, and rich Cloaths bestow’d:

  But when of Age he felt the sad Extream,

  And ev’ry Nerve was shrunk, and Limb was lame,

  Lock’d in a Room her useless Spouse she left,

  Of Youth, of Vigour, and of Voice bereft. 350

  On Terms like these, I never can desire

  Thou shouldst to Immortality aspire.

  Couldst thou indeed, as now thou art, remain,

  Thy Strength, thy Beauty, and thy Youth retain,

  Couldst thou for ever thus my Husband prove, 355

  I might live happy in thy endless Love;

  Nor should I e’er have Cause to dread the Day,

  When I must mourn thy Loss and Life’s Decay.

  But thou, alas! too soon and sure must bend

  Beneath the Woes which painful Age attend; 360

  Inexorable Age! whose wretched State

  All Mortals dread, and all Immortals hate.

  Now, know, I also must my Portion share,

  And for thy sake Reproach and Shame must bear.

  For I, who heretofore in Chains of Love, 365

  Could captivate the Minds of Gods above,

  And force ’em, by my all-subduing Charms,

  To sigh and languish in a Woman’s Arms:

  Must now no more that Pow’r superior boast,

  Nor tax with Weakness the Celestial Host; 370

  Since I my self, this dear Amends have made,

  And am at last by my own Arts betray’d.

  Erring like them, with Appetite deprav’d,

  This Hour, by thee, I have a Son conceiv’d;

  Whom hid beneath my Zone, I must conceal, 375

  ‘Till Time his Being and my Shame reveal.

  Him shall the Nymphs who these fair Woods adorn

  In their deep Bosoms nurse, as soon as born:

  They nor of Mortal nor Immortal Seed

  Are said to spring, yet on Ambrosia feed, 380

  And long they live; and oft in Chorus join

  With Gods and Goddesses in Dance divine.

  These the Silent court; these Hermes loves,

  And their Embraces seeks in shady Groves.

  Their Origine and Birth these Nymphs deduce 385

  From common Parent Earth’s prolifick Juice:

  With lofty Firs which grace the Mountain’s Brow,

  Or ample-spreading Oaks, at once they grow;

  All have their Trees allotted to their Care,

  Whose Growth, Duration and Decrease they share. 390

  But holy are these Groves by Mortals held,

  And therefore, by the Ax are never fell’d.

  But when the Fate of some fair Tree draws nigh,

  It first appears to droop, and then grows dry;

  The Bark to crack and perish, next is seen, 395

  And last the Boughs it sheds, no longer green:

  And thus the Nymphs expire by like degrees,

  And live and die coæval with their Trees.

  These gentle Nymphs, by my Perswasion won,

  Shall in their sweet Recesses nurse my Son; 400

  And when his Cheeks with Youth’s first Blushes glow,

  To thee the Sacred Maids the Boy shall show.

  More to instruct thee, when five Years shall end,

  I will again to visit thee descend,

  Bringing thy beauteous Son to charm thy Sight, 405

  Whose Godlike Form shall fill thee with Delight;

  Him will I leave thenceforward to thy Care,

  And will that with him thou to Troy repair:

  There, if Enquiry shall be made, to know

  To whom thou dost so bright an Off-spring owe; 410

  Be sure, thou nothing of the Truth detect,

  But ready Answer make as I direct.

  Say of a Sylvan Nymph the fair Youth came,

  And Calycopis call his Mother’s Name.

  For shouldst thou boast the Truth, and madly own 415

  That thou in Bliss hadst Cytherea known,

  Jove would his Anger pour upon thy Head,

  And with avenging Thunder strike thee dead.

  Now all is told thee, and just Caution giv’n,

  Be secret thou, and dread the Wrath of Heav’n. 420

  She said, and sudden soar’d above his Sight,

  Cutting thro’ liquid Air her Heav’nward Flight.

  All hail, bright Cyprian Queen! thee first I praise;

  Then, to some other Pow’r transfer my Lays.

  FINIS.

  Songs from Plays

  FROM THE OLD BATCHELOR.

  SONG. THUS, TO A RIPE, CONSENTING MAID

  I.

  Thus, to a ripe, consenting Maid,

  Poor, old, repenting Delia said,

  Would you long preserve your Lover?

  Would you still his Goddess reign?

  Never let him all discover, 5

  Never let him much obtain.

  II.

  Men mill admire, adore and die,

  While wishing at your Feet they lie:

  But admi
tting their Embraces,

  Wakes ’em from the Golden Dream; 10

  Nothing’s new besides our Faces,

  Every Woman is the same.

  SONG. AS AMORET AND THYRSIS LAY

  I.

  As Amoret and Thyrsis lay

  Melting the Hours, in gentle Play;

  Joining Faces, mingling Kisses,

  And exchanging harmless Blisses:

  He trembling, cry’d, with eager haste, 5

  O let me feed as well as taste,

  I die, if I’m not wholly blest.

  II.

  The fearful Nymph reply’d — Forbear;

  I cannot, dare not, must not hear:

  Dearest Thyrsis, do not move me, 10

  Do not — do not — if you Love me.

  O let me — still the Shepherd said;

  But while she fond Resistance made,

  The hasty Joy, in strugling fled.

  III.

  Vex’d at the Pleasure she had miss’d, 15

  She frown’d and blush’d, then sigh’d and kiss’d,

  And seem’d to moan, in sullen Cooing,

  The sad miscarriage of their Wooing:

  But vain alas! were all her Charms;

  For Thyrsis deaf to Loves allarms, 20

  Baffled and senseless, tir’d her Arms.

  FROM THE DOUBLE DEALER.

  SONG. CYNTHIA FROWNS WHEN E’RE! WOO HER

  I.

  CYNTHIA frowns when e’re! Woo her,

  Yet she’s vext if I give over;

  Much she fears I should undo her,

  But much more, to lose her Lover:

  Thus, in doubting, she refuses; 5

  And not Winning, thus she loses.

  II.

  Prithee Cynthia look behind you,

  Age and Wrinckles will o’retake you;

  Then too late, desire will find you,

  When the power does forsake you: 10

  Think, O think O ‘th’ sad Condition,

  To be past, yet wish Fruition.

  SONG. ANCIENT PHILLIS, HAS YOUNG GRACES

  Ancient Phillis, has young Graces,

  ’Tis a strange thing, but a true one;

  Shall I tell you how?

  She her self makes her own Faces,

  And each Morning wears a new one;

  Where’s the Wonder now?

  FROM LOVE FOR LOVE.

  SONG. A NYMPH AND A SWAIN TO APOLLO ONCE PRAY’D

  I.

  A NYMPH and a Swain to Apollo once pray’d,