Classic Poem

Canto the Third

From the sad consort of her silent grief
The princess doth with pleasing wonder hear
Poor Vanlore's fate, and the unjust relief
Which his unworthy father freed from fear.

Whose hell-deep plots, the dregs of avarice,
Had so defiled, that whilst he seeks for aid,
His subtlety masked on the road of vice,
By his presumed assistant is betrayed.

Composing time did now begin to slack
The rein of mirth; exalted joy shrunk back
From pleasure's summer-solstice, and gave way
For more domestic passions to obey
An economic government; which brought
Loose fancy on the wings of serious thought
Back to her sober home, in that to find
Those several burthens that were left behind
In the career of mirth; amongst which number,
Pharonnida, that had let sorrow slumber,
In the high room of joy, awakes again
That clamorous elf, which she must entertain
At beauty's cost. Yet in this dark retreat,
From pleasure's throne to sorrow's dismal seat,
She finds a sweet companion; one that had,
By fatal love opposed, with loss unclad
Delight of all his summer-robes, to dress
Her trembling soul in sables of distress.
The sad Silvandra (for surviving fame
Hath on record so charactered her name)
Being sister to returned Ismander, in
This florish of triumphant joy had been
So much eclipsed with grief, that oft her tears
Dimmed beauty's rays, whilst through them she appears
A fit companion for the princess to
Twist those discourses with, whose mourning clew
Led through the labyrinth of their lives. They oft,
In shades as secret as their closest thought
With pensive paces meeting, sit and tell
Stories so sad, that nought could parallel —
But love and loss; a theme they both had been
By rigid power made hapless students in.
One eye-bright morning tempting them to take
The start of time, soon as the lark did wake,
Summons them from the palace to the side
Of a small wood, whose bushy crest, the pride
Of all the flowery plains, they chose to be
'Gainst the invading sun their canopy.
Reposed beneath a full-grown tree, that spread
His trembling arms to shade their fragrant bed,
They now are set; where for awhile they view
The distant vale, whilst contemplation grew
Pregnant with wonder, whose next prosperous birth
Had been delight, had they not sent their mirth
In sad exchange, whilst tears did usher in
Silvandra's fate; who, weeping, did begin,
With such a look as did command belief,
The late past story of a present grief.
" In yonder fields (with that directs her eye
To a black fen, whose heavy earth did lie
Low in a dark and dirty vale) is placed
Amarus' castle, which though now defaced
More by the owner's covetous neglect
Than time's rough strokes, that strength, which did protect
Once its inhabitants, being now but made
Use of when want doth with weak prayers invade
The gates, being thought sufficient — if they keep
The poor at bay, or, whilst his stiff hinds sleep,
Their laboring beasts secure. But I, alas,
Blush to discover that this miser was
Father to my dead Vanlore, and to her
Whose living virtues kind heaven did confer
As blessings on my brother; but the sun
Ne'er saw two sweeter streams of virtue run
From such a bitter fountain. This accurst
And wretched man (so hated that he durst
Scarce look abroad, fearing oppression would
Be paid with vengeance, if he ever should
Fall into the hands of those whose faces he
Ground with extortion, till the injury
Fear clothed like justice), venturing once to view
A manor, whose intemperate lord outgrew
In debts the compass of a bond, besides
His common guard of clowns, fellows whose hides
Served for defensive armour, he commands
His son's attendance; who, since from his hands
Racked tenants hoped for ease, he thought that they
Would for that hope with reverent duty pay.
But vain mistakes betray opinion to
A fatal precipice, which they might view
I' the objects of each glance; one side affords
Large plains, whose flocks — the wealth of several lords,
By him contracted, but the spoils appears
Of beggared orphans, pickled in their tears;
Farms for whose loss poor widows wept, and fields,
Which being confined to strict enclosure, yields
To his crammed chests the starving poor man's food;
For private ends robbing their public good,
With guilt enclosed those ways which now had brought
Him by some cottages, whose owners bought
Poor livelihoods at a laborious rate
From his racked lands; for which pursuing Hate
Now follows him in curses: for in that
They yet take vengeance; till arriving at
The thicker peopled villages, where, more bold
By number made, the fire of hate takes hold
On clamorous women, whose vexed husbands thirst
I' the fever of revenge; to these, when first
They kindled had the flame, swiftly succeeds
More active men, such as resolved their deeds,
Spite of restrictive law, should set them free
From the oppressor of their liberty.
" His son, the noble Vanlore, to appease
The dangerous fury of this rash disease,
Spends all his stock of rhetoric, but in
Fruitless attempts. His rustic guard had been
At the first onset scattered, and were now
Posting for safety; whilst his son, taught how
By frequent injuries to entertain
Anger's unusual guests, shows it in vain,
Though brave attempts of valour, by whose high
Unhappy flame whilst circling foes did die
Unworthy hecatombs for him, at length
Engaged him had beyond the power of strength,
Though backed by fortune to redeem; which when
Beheld by those whose characters of men
In rage were lost, they wildly persecute
Revenge, till life, nature's harmonious fruit,
Was blasted to untimely death. " — And here
Her fatal story in its full career,
The memory of him, who died to be
The people's curse and crime of destiny,
Grief did obstruct, whilst liquid passion feeds
Her crystal springs; which stopped, she thus proceeds: —
" His brave defender now retreating to
The road to death, whilst he did vainly sue
For undeserved remorse, Amarus lies
Their fury's object; in whose wild disguise,
Whilst giddy clouds of dark amazement dwell
O'er his dim eyes, the exalted tumult fell
In a black storm of danger; in whose shade
They drag him thence, — that fury, being made
Wise by delays, might study torments great
As was their rage; but in their wild retreat
They thus are stopped: — A wandering knight that near
The place approached, directed by his ear
How to inform his eye, arrives to see
The wretched trophies of this victory; —
A dying son, whose latest beams of light
Through death's dim optics bid the world good night,
With looks that did so black a sorrow limn —
He frowned on earth, though Heaven did smile on him;
Hurried from thence by unrelenting hate,
A living father of more woful fate.
" Pity, that brave allay of manly heat,
Persuades the noble stranger to entreat
A parle with rage; which, being denied, he then
Attempts to force; and since their ablest men
Were wounded in the former conflict, soon
Successful proves. Like mists i' the pride of noon,
Being huddled into hurtless clouds, they fly
Before his fury, till from reach of the eye
Shrunk to the wood's protection; where, whilst each,
With such a fear as sanguine guilt did teach
The world's first murderer, seeks for safety, he
Retreating leaves the scattered herd — to be
Their own afflicters; and hastes thence to find
Him to whom fortune proved so strangely kind
In his approach, as by his sword to be,
When hope lost anchor, blest with liberty.
Come to the place where old Amarus lay
With fear so startled, that he durst betray
Life through no motion; yet he's followed by
That train of cowards, which, though they did fly
The danger, when they saw their foes pursued,
On the reward — the victory, intrude;
Whose easy spoils, those invitations to
A coward's daring, such a distance drew
Them from their homes, that they with labor were
Recalled from rifling enemies to bear
Their feeble masters off, — Amarus living,
As weak with fear as Vanlore was with dying.
" Before the black obstructions of the night
Did interpose, they were arrived i' the sight
O' the castle's ruined walls, a place whose hue,
Uncouth and wild, banished delight unto
Uncomely profit, and at distance gives
A sad assurance — that its owner lives
By men so hated, and by Heaven unblest,
As he enjoyed not what he there possest.
" Come to the front of the house, whose dirt forbid
A cleanly entrance, he sees pavements hid
With heaps of rubbish — time's slow hand let fall
From the neglected ruins of the wall;
Green arbors, pleasant groves, all which were now
Swiftly dismantling to make way for th' plough;
Only his barns, preservers of that store
Detained with curses from the pining poor,
Their upper garments of warm thatch did wear
So thick to keep them dry, whilst thin and bare
E'en his own lodging stood; the hall, first built
To have that wealth, which he in sparing spilt,
Spent there in hospitality, ne'er by
More heat warmed than a candle gave, did lie
Moulded with lazy damps — the wall o'ergrown
With moss and weeds — unhaunted and alone
The empty tables stood; for never guests
Come there, except thin bankrupts, whom distress
Spurred on with sharp necessity to crave
Forbearing months, which he, when bribed, forgave.
Hence, by a rude domestic led, he goes
To view the cellar, where, like distant foes,
Or buildings in a new plantation, stand
The distant barrels, yet from all command
But his own keys exempted. To bestow
A welcome on him, which he ne'er did show
To man before, led by a rusty slave,
Whose iron limbs, rattling in leather, gave
Alarums to the half-starved rats, he here
Is by Amarus visited; whose fear
That place should too much suffer, soon from thence
Sounds a retreat to supper, where the expense
Became a usurer's purse: yet what was by
Sparing defective, neatness did supply,
A virtue, where repining penury
Prepares, unusual; but he soon did see
Whence it proceeds — The sad sweet Ammida.
Whom shame and grief attempted to withdraw
From public view, was by her father's call,
To crown that entertainment, brought; whose all
Was else so bad, it the first visit might
Repented make, not to the next invite.
" Here, with afflicted patience, he had spent
Some few, but tedious days, whose slow extent
Behind his wishes flagged, ere he had seen
Vanlore interred, whose obsequies had been
In secret huddled up, but then prepares
To take his leave; when adverse fate, that shares
Double with man's intentions, in the tart
Of's full resolves opposing, claims her part
By harsh command: — A dangerous fever, that
Threatened destruction ere arriving at
Its distant crisis, and on flaming wings,
Posts through the blood; whose mass infected brings
Death's banners near the fort of life, which in
Acute distempers it attempts to win
From nature's guards, had not the hot assault
By youth sustained, made death's black army halt
Whilst marching to the grave — the swift disease
Like a proud foe repulsed, forced to give ease
By slow retreats; yet of those cruel wars
Left long remaining bloodless characters.
" But ere the weak Euriolus (for he
This hapless stranger was) again could be
By strength supported, base Amarus, who
Could think no more than priceless thanks was due
For all his dangerous pains, more beastly rude
Than untamed Indians, basely did exclude
That noble guest: which being with sorrow seen
By Ammida, whose prayers and tears had been
His helpless advocates, she gives in charge
To her Ismander — that till time enlarge
Her then restrained desires, he entertain
Her desolate and wandering friend. Nor vain
Were these commands, his entertainment being
Such as observant love thought best agreeing
To her desires. But here not long he staid,
Ere fortune, prompted by his wit, obeyed
That artful mistress, and reward obtains
By fine imposture for firm virtue's pains. —
The gout, that common curse of slothful wealth,
With frequent pain had long impaired the health
Of old Amarus, who, though else to all
Griping as that, for ease was liberal.
From practised physic to the patient's curse —
Poor prattling women, or impostors worse —
Sly mountebanks, whose empty impudence
Do frequent murders under health's pretence,
He all had tried, yet found he must endure
What, though some eased, none perfectly could cure.
Oft had his judgment, purse, and patience been
Abused by cheats, yet still defective in
The choice of men; which error known unto
My brother and Euriolus, they drew
Their platform thus: — Euriolus, clad in
An antic dress, which showed as he had been
Physician to the Great Mogul, first by
Ismander praised at distance, doth apply
Himself unto Amarus; where, to enhance
The price of 's art, he first applauds the chance
That had from distant regions thither brought
Him to eclipse their glory, who had sought
For't in his cure before, then seconds that
With larger promises; which, tickled at,
Amarus vies with his, threatening to break
His iron chests, and make those idols speak
His gratitude, though, locked with conscience, they
To his own clamorous wants had silent lay.
" Some common medicines which the people prize,
'Cause from their knowledge veiled in slight disguise,
Applied to 's pain; and those assisted by
Opinion, whose best antidotes supply
The weak defects of art, he soon attains
So much of health, that now his greatest pains
Had been the engaged reward, had he not been
By future hopes kept from ungrateful sin
So far, that in performing action he
Exceeds his passion's prodigality —
Large promises, with such performance, that,
Whilst his deluders smile and wonder at,
Thus speaks its dark original. To show
Euriolus how fortune did outgrow
Desert in his estate, he was one day
From th' castle walls taking a pleased survey
Of spacious fields, whose soils, made fertile by
Luxurious art, in rich variety
Still youthful nature clothed; which, whilst he views,
An old suspicion thus his tongue renews: —
" " How blest, my worthy friend, how blest had I
Been in my youth's laborious industry
T' have seen a son possessed of this! But now,
A daughter's match a stranger must endow
With what I've toiled to get; and what is more
My torment, one that, being betrothed before
My son's decease, wants an estate to make
Her marriage blest. But knew I how to shake
This swaggerer off, there lives, not far from hence,
One that to match her to were worth the expense
Of my estate; his name is Dargonel —
A wary lad, who, though his land do swell
Each day with new additions, yet still lives
Sparing and close, takes heed to whom he gives,
Or whom he lends, except on mortgage, by
Whose strength it may securely multiply.
This worthy gentleman, with wise foresight
Beholding what an object of delight
Our linked estates would be, hath, since I lost
My heir, been in's intention only crost
By this Ismander, who, though I confess
A braver man, yet since a fortune less,
Ne'er must have my consent; only since by
Her contract I have lost the liberty
Of second choice, unless I vainly draw
Myself in danger of the o'erbusy law,
I want some sound advice that might inform
Me how to rid him, yet not stand a storm
Broke from his rage. Although my daughter love
Him more than health, I shall command above
Her feeble passions, if you dare impart
So much of aid from your almighty art
As to remove this remora. — And here
He stopped, yet lets a silent guilt appear
In looks that showed what else the theme affords
He'd have conceived, as being too foul for words.
Which seen by him whose active wit grew strong
In friendship's cause, as loath to torture long
His expectations, thus their stream he stays
With what at once both comforts and betrays: —
" " Raise up your spirits, my blest patron, to
Sublime content, Heaven sent me to renew
Your soul's harmonious peace; that dreadful toy
Of conscience wisely waved, you may enjoy
Uninterrupted hopes. Yet since we must
Be still most wary where we're most unjust,
Let's not be rash; swift things are oft unsure,
Whilst moles through death's dark angles creep secure.
Then, since it's full of danger to remove.
Betrothed Ismander, whilst his public love,
By your consent raised to assurance, may
A granted interest claim — first let us stay
His fury and the people's censures by
A nuptial knot, whose links we will untie,
Ere the first night confirms the hallowed band,
By ways so secret, that death's skilful hand
Shall work unknown to fate, and render you
To the deluded world's more public view,
A real mourner, whilst your curtained thought.
Triumphs to be from strict engagements brought.
Besides the veiling of our dark design.
Like virtue thus, this plot will sink a mine
Whose wealthy womb in ample jointure will.
Bring much of dead Ismander's state, to fill
The vast desire of wealth. This being done,
I with prevailing philters will outrun
Sorrow's black bark, which whilst it lies at drift,
I'll so renew her mirth, no sigh shall lift
Its heavy sails, which in a calm neglect
Shall lie forgot; whilst what's not now respect
To Dargonel, shall soon grow up to be,
Like nature's undiscovered sympathy,
A love so swift, so secret, all shall pause
At its effects, whilst they admire the cause."
" This by Amarus, with belief which grew
Into applause, heard out, he doth renew
With large additions what he'd promised in
His first attempts. Then hasting to begin
The tragic scene, which must in triumph be
Ushered to light, his known deformity
Of wretched baseness for awhile he lays
Aside, and by a liberal mirth betrays
Approaching joy; which, since incited by
His wishes, soon lifts Hymen's torches high
As their exalted hopes. The happy pair,
Dear to indulgent Heaven, with omens fair
As were their youthful paranymphs, had been
In the hallowed temple taught without a sin
To taste the fruits of paradise; and now
The time, when tedious custom did allow
A wished retirement, come, preparing are
To beautify their beds, whence that bright star,
Whose evening's blush did please the gazers' eyes,
Eclipsed in sorrow, is ordained to rise.
But such whose superficial veil opprest
Only her friends, whose knowledge were not blest
With the design, which to our proscript lovers
Euriolus with timely zeal discovers.
The morning opens, and the wakened bride,
By light and friends surprised, attempts to hide
Her bashful beauty, till their hands withdrew
The curtains, which betrayed unto their view
Ismander cold and stiff. Which horrid sight,
Met where they looked for objects of delight,
At first a silent sad amazement spread
Through all the room, till fear's pale army fled
In sad assurance; sorrow's next hot charge
Began in shrieks, whose terror did enlarge
Infectious grief, till, like an ugly cloud
That cramps the beauties of the day, grown proud
In her black empire, Hymen's tapers she
Changes to funeral brands, and, from that tree
That shadows graves, pulls branches, which, being wet
In tears, are where love's myrtles florished set.
Their nuptial hymns thus turned to dirges, all
In sad exchange let cloudy sable fall
O'er pleasure's purple robes, whilst from that bed,
Whence love oppressed seemed, to their sorrow, fled
To death for refuge, sadly they attend
T' the last of homes — his tomb, their sleeping friend:
Who there, with all the hallowed rights that do
Betray surviving friendship, left unto
Darkness and dust, they thence with sober pace
Return; whilst shrouded near that dismal place
Euriolus conceals himself, that so,
When sleep, whose soft excess is nature's foe,
Hath spent her stupefactive opiates, he
Might ready to his friend's assistance be.
" And now that minute come, which, to comply
With art's sure rules, gives nature leave to untie
Sleep's powerful ligatures, his pulses beat
The blood's reveille, from whose dark retreat
The spirits thronging in their active flight,
His friend he encounters with the early light;
By whose assistance, whilst the quiet earth
Yet slept in night's black arms, before the birth
O' the morn, whose busy childhood might betray
Their close design, Ismander takes his way
Toward a distant friend's, whose house he knew
To be as secret as his love was true.
There whilst concealed e'en from suspicion he
In safety rests, Euriolus, to free
Her fear's fair captive, Ammida, hastes back
To old Amarus; who, too rash to slack
Sorrow's black cordage by degrees that might
Weaken mistrust, lets mirth take open flight
Into suspected action, whilst he gives
To Dargonel, who now his darling lives,
So free a welcome that he in 't might read,
If love could not for swift succession plead,
Power should command; yet waves the exercise
Of either, till his empiric's skill he tries.
Who now returned, ere Dargonel, that lay
Slow to attempt since certain to betray,
Had more than faced at distance, he pretends
To close attempts of art, whose wished-for ends,
Ere their expecting faith had time to fear,
In acts which raised their wonder did appear. —
" Love, which by judgment ruled, had made desert
In her first choice the climax to her heart,
By which it slowly moved; now, as if swayed
By heedless passion, seems to have betrayed
At one rash glance her heart, which now begins
To break through passion's bashful cherubins,
Spreading, without a modest blush, the light
Of morning beauty o'er that hideous night
Of all those dull deformities that dwell,
Like earth's black damps, o'er cloudy Dargonel.
Who, being become an antic in the mask
Of playful love, grows proud, and scorns to ask
Advice from sober thought, but lets conceit
Persuade him how his worth had spread that bait;
Which sly Amarus, who presumed to know
From whence that torrent of her love did flow,
With a just doubt suspecting, strives to make
His thoughts secure, ere reason did o'ertake
Passion's enforced career. Nor did his plot
Want an indulgent hope; like dreams, forgot
In the delights of day, his daughter shook
Off grief's black dress, and in a cheerful look
Promised approaching love, no more disguised
Than served to show strict virtue how she prized
Her only in applause; whose harmony
Still to preserve, she is resolved to be,
If secret silence might with action dwell,
Swift as his wish, espoused to Dargonel.
" More joyed than fettered captives in the year
Of Jubilee, Amarus did appear
Proud with delight; in whose warm shine, when's haste
Had with officious diligence embraced
Euriolus, he, waving all delays,
To Dargonel the welcome news conveys;
Who, soon prepared for what so long had been
His hope's delight, to meet those joys within
The sacred temple, hastes. The place they chose
For Hymen's court, least treacherous eyes disclose
The bride's just blushes, was a chapel, where
Devotion, when but a domestic care,
Was by his household practised; for the time —
'Twas ere the morn blushed to detect a crime.
" All thus prepared, the priest conducting, they
With sober pace, which gently might convey
Diseased Amarus in his chair, they to
The chapel haste: which now come near, as through
The antient room they pass, a sad deep groan
Assaults their ears; which, whilst with wonder grown
Into disease they entertain, appears
A sad confirmer of their doubtful fears —
Ismander, whom but late before they had
Followed t' the grave, his lively beauty clad
In the upper garments of pale death. Which sight
The train avoiding by their speedy flight,
Except the willing bride, behind leave none
But lame Amarus; who, his chair o'erthrown
By his affrighted bearers, there must lie
Exposed to fear, which, when attempts to fly,
Through often struggling, proved his labor vain,
He groveling lies unseen to entertain.
" Thus far successful, blest Ismander thence
Conveys his lovely bride, whilst the expense
Of time being all laid out in fear, by none
He was observed. Amarus long alone
Lying tormented with his passions, ere
His frighted servants durst return to bear
Their fainting master off; but being at length,
When greater numbers had confirmed the strength
Of fortitude, grown bold, entering again
The room, which yet fear told them did retain
The scent of brimstone, there they only found
Their trembling master, tumbling on the ground.
Horror, augmented by internal guilt,
Had in his conscience' trepidations spilt
Both prayers and tears, which, since Heaven's law they crost,
For human passions in despair were lost.
Obscured in whose black mists, not daring to
Unclose his eyes, fearing again the view
Of that affrighting apparition, he
Is hurried from that dreadful place, to be
Their mirth, whom he (for fiends mistaking) cries
For mercy to, scarce trusting of his eyes,
When they unfolded had discovered none
But such whom long he 'd for domestics known.
" Yet to torment him more, before these fears
Wholly forsake him, in his room appears
Some officers; whose power, made dreadful by
The dictates of supreme authority,
As guilty of Ismander's death, arrest
Him for his murderer. By which charge opprest
More than before with fear, he, who now thought
On nought but death, to a tribunal brought,
Ere asked, confesses that foul crime, for which
He this just doom receives: — Since to enrich
What had before wealth's surfeit took, this sin
Was chiefly acted, his estate, fallen in
T' the hands of justice, by the judge should be
From hence disposed of; then, from death to free
His life, already forfeited, except
Murdered Ismander, whom he thought had slept
In 's winding sheet, his hopeless advocate
Should there appear. In which unhappy state
The wretch, now ready to depart, beholds
This glorious change; — Ismander first unfolds
Himself and her, who, bound by nature's laws,
Implore his pardon ere they plead his cause;
Which done, the judge, that his lost wealth might be
No cause of grief, unmasking, lets him see
Euriolus, by whom from th' worst of sin
To liberal virtue he'd deluded been. "