by John Dryden
’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 shou’d reward. 550
Are these the Kings entrusted 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 555
His Country, has his Countrys Wealth deserv’d.
Ev’n mighty Monarchs oft are meanly born,
And Kings by Birth to lowest Rank return;
All subject to the Pow’r of giddy Chance,
For Fortune can depress, or can advance: 560
But true Nobility is of the Mind,
Not giv’n by Chance, and not to Chance resign’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, 565
My self alone will for my self 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 barb’rous Appetite; 570
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, 575
That, if not executed first by thee,
Shall on my Person be perform’d by me.
Away, with Women weep, and leave me here,
Fix’d, like a Man to die, without a Tear;
Or save, or slay us both this present Hour, 580
’Tis all that Fate has left within thy Pow’r.
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 deem’d the Death she promis’d was so nigh: 585
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 590
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, 595
Clos’d the severe Command: For, (Slaves to pay)
What Kings decree the Soldier must obey:
Wag’d against Foes, and, when the Wars are o’er,
Fit only to maintain Despotick Pow’r:
Dang’rous to Freedom, and desir’d alone 600
By Kings, who seek 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. 605
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 rough with Gold,
Of Depth, and Breadth, the precious Pledge to hold, 610
With cruel Care he chose: The hollow Part
Inclos’d, the lid conceal’d the Lover’s Heart:
Then of his trusted Mischiefs one he sent,
And bad him with these Words the Gift present:
Thy Father sends thee this, to cheer thy Breast, 615
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 Humane Kind.
E’er this the Royal Dame, who well had weigh’d
The Consequence of what her Sire had said, 620
Fix’d on her Fate, against th’ expected Hour,
Procur’d the Means to have it in her Pow’r:
For this she had distill’d, with early Care,
The Juice of Simples, friendly to Despair,
A Magazine of Death; and thus prepar’d, 625
Secure to die, the fatal Message heard:
Then smil’d severe; nor with a troubl’d Look,
Or trembling hand, the Fun’ral Present took;
Ev’n kept her Count’nance, when the Lid remov’d
Disclos’d the Heart, unfortunately lov’d: 630
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 Surprize,
She sternly on the Bearer fix’d her Eyes;
Then thus; Tell Tancred, on his Daughters part, 635
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: 640
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: 645
But this last Act of Love excels the rest:
For this so dear a Present, bear him back
The best Return that I can live to make.
The Messenger dispatch’d, again she view’d
The lov’d Remains, and sighing, thus pursu’d: 650
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, 655
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; 660
There yet remain’d thy Fun’ral Exequies,
The weeping Tribute of thy Windows Eyes;
And those, indulgent Heav’n has found the way
That I, before my Death, have leave to pay
My Father ev’n in Cruelty is kind, 665
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, 670
And save my self 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 Tomb: 675
Then (as I know thy Spirit hovers nigh)
Under thy friendly Conduct will I fly
To Regions unexplor’d, secure to share
Thy State; nor Hell shall Punishment appear;
And Heav’n is double Heav’n, if thou art there. 680
She said: Her brim-full Eyes, that ready stood,
And only wanted Will to weep a Flood,
Releas’d their watry Store, and pour’d amain,
Like Clouds low hung, a sober Show’r of Rain;
Mute solemn
Sorrow, free from Female Noise, 685
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’er-fill’d before; and oft (her Mouth apply’d
To the cold Heart) she kiss’d at once, and cry’d. 690
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 enquir’d th’ Occasion of her Grief, 695
(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, 700
The Decencies of Grief; It rests behind,
That, as our Bodies were, our Souls be join’d:
To thy whate’er abode, my Shade convey,
And as an elder Ghost, direct the way.
She said; and bad the Vial to be brought, 705
Where she before had brew’d the deadly Draught:
First pouring out the med’ cinable Bane,
The Heart, her Tears had rins’d, she bath’d again;
Then down her Throat the Death securely throws,
And quaffs a long Oblivion of her Woes. 710
This done, she mounts the Genial Bed, and there,
(Her Body first compos’d with honest Care,)
Attends the welcom Rest; Her Hands yet hold
Close to her Heart, the Monumental Gold;
Nor farther Word she spoke, but clos’d her Sight, 715
And quiet, sought the Covert of the Night.
The Damsels, who the while in Silence mourn’d,
Not knowing, nor suspecting Death suborn’d,
Yet, as their Duty was, to Tancred sent,
Who, conscious of th’ Occasion, fear’d th’ Event. 720
Alarm’d, and with presaging Heart he came
And drew the Curtains, and expos’d the Dame
To loathsom Light; then with a late Relief
Made vain Efforts to mitigate her Grief.
She, what she could, excluding Day, her Eyes 725
Kept firmly seal’d, and sternly thus replies:
Tancred, restrain thy Tears unsought by me,
And Sorrow, unavailing now to thee:
Did ever Man before afflict his Mind,
To see th’ Effect of what himself design’d? 730
Yet, if thou hast remaining in thy Heart
Some Sense of Love, some unextinguish’d Part
Of former Kindness, largely once profess’d,
Let me by that adjure thy harden’d Breast,
Not to deny thy Daughters last Request: 735
The secret Love which I so long enjoy’d,
And still conceal’d, to gratifie thy Pride,
Thou hast disjoin’d; but, with my dying Breath,
Seek not, I beg thee, to disjoin our Death:
Where-e’er his Corps by thy Command is laid, 740
Thither let mine in publick be convey’d;
Expos’d in open View, and Side by Side,
Acknowleg’d as a Bridegroom and a Bride.
The Prince’s Anguish hinder’d his Reply:
And she, who felt her Fate approaching nigh, 745
Seiz’d the cold Heart, and heaving to her Breast,
Here, precious Pledge, she said, securely rest.
These Accents were her last; the creeping Death
Benum’d her Senses first, then stopp’d her Breath.
Thus she for Disobedience justly dy’d; 750
The Sire was justly punish’d for his Pride;
The Youth, least guilty, suffer’d for th’ Offence
Of Duty violated to his Prince;
Who late repenting of his cruel Deed,
One common Sepulcher for both decreed; 755
Intomb’d the wretched Pair in Royal State,
And on their Monument inscrib’d their Fate.
Theodore and Honoria
OF all the Cities in Romanian Lands,
The chief, and most renown’d Ravenna stands:
Adorn’d in ancient Times with Arms and Arts,
And rich Inhabitants, with generous Hearts.
But Theodore the Brave, above the rest, 5
With Gifts of Fortune, and of Nature bless’d,
The foremost Place, for Wealth and Honour held,
And all in Feats of Chivalry excell’d.
This noble Youth to Madness lov’d a Dame,
Of high Degree, Honoria was her Name; 10
Fair as the Fairest, but of haughty Mind,
And fiercer than became so soft a kind;
Proud of her Birth; (for equal she had none;)
The rest she scorn’d; but hated him alone.
His Gifts, his constant Courtship, nothing gain’d; 15
For she, the more he lov’d, the more disdain’d:
He liv’d with all the Pomp he cou’d devise,
At Tilts and Turnaments obtain’d the Prize,
But found no favour in his Ladies Eyes:
Relentless as a Rock, the lofty Maid 20
Turn’d all to Poyson that he did, or said:
Nor Pray’rs, nor Tears, nor offer’d Vows could move;
The Work went backward; and the more he strove
T’ advance his Sute, the farther from her Love.
Weary’d at length, and wanting Remedy, 25
He doubted oft, and oft resolv’d to die.
But Pride stood ready to prevent the Blow,
For who would die to gratify a Foe?
His generous Mind disdain’d so mean a Fate;
That pass’d, his next Endeavour was to Hate. 30
But vainer that Relief than all the rest;
The less he hop’d, with more Desire possessed;
Love stood the Siege, and would not yield his Breast.
Change was the next, but change deceiv’d his Care,
He sought a Fairer, but found none so Fair. 35
He would have worn her out by slow degrees,
As Men by Fasting starve th’ untam’d Disease:
But present Love requir’d a present Ease.
Looking he feeds alone his famish’d Eyes,
Feeds lingring Death, but, looking not, he dies. 40
Yet still he chose the longest way to Fate,
Wasting at once his Life, and his Estate.
His Friends beheld, and pity’d him in vain,
For what Advice can ease a Lover’s Pain!
Absence, the best Expedient they could find 45
Might save the Fortune, if not cure the Mind:
This Means they long propos’d, but little gain’d,
Yet after much pursuit, at length obtain’d.
Hard, you may think it was, to give consent,
But, struggling with his own Desires, he went; 50
With large Expence, and with a pompous Train,
Provided, as to visit France or Spain,
Or for some distant Voyage o’er the Main.
But Love had clipp’d his Wings, and cut him short,
Confin’d within the purlieus of his Court: 55
Three Miles he went, nor farther could retreat;
His Travels ended at his Country-Seat:
To Chassis pleasing Plains he took his way,
There pitch’d his Tents, and there resolv’d to stay.
The Spring was in the Prime; the neighb’ring Grove 60
Supply’d with Birds, the Choristers of Love:
Musick unbought, that minister’d Delight
To Morning-walks, and lull’d his Cares by Night:
There he discharg’d his Friends; but not th’ Expence
Of frequent Treats, and pr
oud Magnificence. 65
He liv’d as Kings retire, though more at large,
From publick Business, yet with equal Charge;
With House, and Heart still open to receive;
As well content, as Love would give him leave:
He would have liv’d more free; but many a Guest, 70
Who could forsake the Friend, pursu’d the Feast.
It happ’d one Morning, as his Fancy led,
Before his usual Hour, he left his Bed;
To walk within a lonely Lawn, that stood
On ev’ry side surrounded by the Wood: 75
Alone he walk’d, to please his pensive Mind,
And sought the deepest Solitude to find:
’Twas in a Grove of spreading Pines he stray’d,
The Winds, within the quiv’ring Branches plaid,
And Dancing-Trees a mournful Musick made. 80
The Place it self was suiting to his Care,
Uncouth and Salvage as the cruel Fair.
He wander’d on, unknowing where he went,
Lost in the Wood, and all on Love intent:
The Day already half his Race had run, 85
And summon’d him to due Repast at Noon,
But Love could feel no Hunger but his own.
While list’ning to the murm’ring Leaves he stood,
More than a Mile immers’d within the Wood,
At once the Wind was laid; the whisp’ring sound 90
Was dumb; a rising Earthquake rock’d the Ground:
With deeper Brown the Grove was overspred,
A sudden Horror seiz’d his giddy Head,
And his Ears tinckled, and his Colour fled.
Nature was in alarm; some Danger nigh 95
Seem’d threaten’d, though unseen to mortal Eye:
Unus’d to fear, he summon’d all his Soul,
And stood collected in himself, and whole:
Not long: For soon a Whirlwind rose around,
And from afar he heard a screaming sound, 100
As of a Dame distress’d, who, cry’d for Aid,
And fill’d with loud Laments the secret Shade.
A Thicket close beside the Grove there stood,
With Breers and Brambles choak’d, and dwarfish Wood:
From thence the Noise: Which now approaching near 105
With more distinguish’d Notes invades his Ear:
He rais’d his Head, and saw a beauteous Maid,
With Hair dishevell’d issuing through the Shade;
Stripp’d of her Cloaths, and e’en those Parts reveal’d
Which modest Nature keeps from Sight conceal’d 110
Her Face, her Hands, her naked Limbs were torn,
With passing through the Brakes, and prickly Thorn:
Two Mastiffs gaunt and grim, her Flight pursu’d,
And oft their fasten’d Fangs in Blood embru’d:
