Classic Poem

Canto the First.

Beneath the powerful tyranny of love,
Whilst the fair princess weeps out every star
In pleasure's sphere, those dark clouds to remove,
All royal pastimes in it practised are.

Amongst whose triumphs, that her train might lend
Her their attendance in the shades of grief,
Passion brings some so near a fatal end,
That timely pity scarce affords relief.

Some months now spent, since, in the clouded court
Of sad Pharonnida, each princely sport
Was with Argalia's absence masked within
Sables of discontent, robes that had been
Of late her chiefest dress: no cheerful smile
E'er cheered her brow; those walks, which were ere-while
The schools where they disputed love, were now
Only made use of, when her grief sought how
To hide its treacherous tear: the unfilled bed
O' the widow, whose conjugal joy is fled,
I' the hot and vigorous youth of fancy, to
Eternal absence, sooner may renew,
(Though she for tears repeated praises seeks),
The blooming spring of beauty on her cheeks.
When bright plumed Day on the expanded wings
Of Air approaches, Light's fair herald brings
No overtures of peace to her; each prayer
In pious zeal she makes, a pale despair
In their celestial journey clogs. But long
Her feeble sex could not endure these strong
Assaults of passion, ere the red and white,
Vanquished, from beauty's throne had took their flight,
And nought but melancholy paleness left
To attend the light of her dim eyes — bereft
Of all their brightness; pining agues in
The earthquake of each joint, leaving within
The veins more blood than dwelt in her's which beat
The heart's slow motions with a hectic heat.
Long passion's tyrant reigns not, ere this change
Of mirth and beauty, letting sorrow range
Beyond the circle of discretion, in
Her father that suspicion which had been
Kindled before, renewing, he removes
His court to her's; but the kind visit proves
A paroxysm unto that strong disease
Which combats in her blood. No mirth could please
Her troubled soul, since barred society
With all its better angels — gone to be
Attendant on Argalia; she beholds
Those studied pleasures which the prince unfolds
His love and greatness in, with no delight
More smooth than that a sullen anchorite,
Which a harsh vow hath there enforced to dwell,
Sees the cold wants of his unhaunted cell.
Amongst these sports, whose time-betraying view
Ravished each pleased spectator, the fair clew
Contracts some sable knots, of which my pen
Is only one bound to unravel. When
War had unclasped that dreadful book of her's,
Where honored names in sanguine characters
Brave valour had transcribed, fair virtue fixed
Euriolus in honor's orb, and mixed
Him with the court's bright stars: but he who had,
Whilst unregarded poverty had clad
His virtues in obscurity, learned how
To sail in fortune's boisterous storms, is now
By her false smiles becalmed and sunk, before
Desert (bound thither) touched love's treacherous shore.
I' the playful freedom of their youth, when she
Was only a fair shepherdess, and he
A humble swain, he truly did adore
The fair Florenza; but aspired no more,
Since poverty clogged love's ambitious wing,
Than by his private muse alone to sing
Her praise — with such a flame of wit, that they
Which have compared, say, envied Laura may
Look pale with spleen, to hear those lines expressed,
Though in her great Platonic raptures dressed.
But now his worth, by virtue raised, did dwell
High as his hopes, and that a parallel
To her's appearing; either's merits had
A climax to preferment, and thus clad
Virtue in honor's robes; which equal fate
Gave his affection language to relate
What their disparity kept dumb: nor did
Those motions find acceptance, such as chid
Them for presumption, rather 'twas a frost
Of virgin ice, than fire of pride that crost
His masculine desires; her eyes unfold
So much of passion, as by them she told
Who had most interest in her heart, which she
From all brave rivals his resolves shall be.
'Mongst those, Mazara, one whose noble blood
Enriched the gems of virtue, though they stood
In honor's altitude, was chief; nor could
A nobler choice, were her affections ruled
By worth, commend her judgment, — his fresh youth
Being crowned with virtues which might raise a truth
Above hyperboles; his nature mild,
As was the galless dove, yet not the wild
And furious lion, when provoked, could have
More daring valour; an untimely grave,
Whilst it i' the embryo was, to every vice,
But unto virtue a fair paradise;
Whose weedless banks no pining winter knew
Till death the influence of warm life withdrew.
That sympathy of meeting virtues, which
Did both their souls with equal worth enrich,
'Twixt him and brave Euriolus had tied
A league not to be broke, — could love divide
His blessings amongst friends; but that of all
Our passions brooks no rival: fear may call
Friends to partake of palsies, anger strives
To fire each neighbouring bosom, envie thrives
By being transplanted, but a lover's pure
Flames, though converted to a calenture,
Unwillingly with the least flame will part —
Although to thaw another's frozen heart.
Few 'mongst the observant wits o' the court yet knew
(Though it with twisted eye-beams strengthened grew
At every interview, and often dropped
Some tears to water it) whose love 'twas stopped
Mazara's suit. Euriolus, to her
Whose melting pity only could confer
A cure, unlocks the secret; whilst the other,
More confident to win, ne'er strives to smother
A passion so legitimate, but, by
All actual compliments, declares how high
He prized her virtues: but this worthy's fate
Fixed him in love's intemperate zone; too late
The pining fruit was sown, the spring so far
Being spent, its days were grown canicular,
Scorching all hopes, but what made able were
By fruitful tears — love's April showers, to bear
Neglect's untimely frosts; which oft have lost,
In bloomy springs, the unhappy lover's cost.
When this accomplished youth, whose tongue and pen,
With negatives more firm and frequent them
Cursed usurers give impoverished clients, oft
Had been repulsed, truth for discovery brought
This accident — Within the royal court
Of bright Pharonnida, a full resort
Of valiant knights was met, convened to try
Whose valour fortune meant to glorify.
Of which selected number there was one,
Who, though a stranger, virtue soon made known
To all, 'cause feared of most; his valour had,
Before the first triumphant day unclad
The silver-vested hemisphere, been oft
Clothed in the ornaments of honor — brought
On fame's fair wings from the opposing part,
Uncresting them to crown his high desert.
But now, when this new constellation near
Its zenith drew in honor's hemisphere,
Called thither by deciding lots, the brave
Euriolus appears, whom victory gave
In the first shock success, and placed his name
In the meridian altitude of fame;
Where, though the valiant stranger prove no foe
So fortunately valiant to o'erthrow
The structure of his fate, yet his closed stars
Now sink a mine, to which those open wars
But easy dangers were. Mazara, in
His crest, a scarf that formerly had been
Known for Florenza's, seeing, jealous love
Converted into rage, his passions move
Above the sphere of reason, and, what late
Was but a gentle blaze, by altered fate,
Fires to a comet, whose malignant beams
Foretold sad ills, attending love's extremes.
Loath to betray his passions in so great
A breach of friendship, to a close retreat
Mazara summons forward rage; yet in
The stranger's name, whose fortune might have been
The parent of a private quarrel, sends
To call Euriolus, (who now attends
Nought but triumphant mirth), unguarded by
Applauding friends, in secret fight to try
What power did him from threatening danger guard,
When public fame was victory's reward.
This fatal scroll received by him that thought
It real truth, since passion might have sought
In him the same delay, a swift consent
Returns his answer. But the message went
So far from its directed road, that, ere
It reached Mazara's, loose neglect did bear
It to Carina's ear; — a lady that
In silent tears her heart had offered at
His virtue's shrine, yet with such secret zeal,
Her eyes forbid their cupids to reveal
That language of her heart. She knew that in
Florenza's sea of merits, her's had been
Shipwrecked and lost; yet, with a soul as far
From envying her, as hating him, this war
Of factious passions she maintains, and since
Reason now wanted language to convince
Those headstrong rebels, she resolves to be,
Though ruined, ruled by their democracy.
The information her officious maid
Had from Mazara's careless page betrayed,
Assures Carina — the preceding night,
Such horse and armour as the stranger knight
Euriolus had conquered in, had been
By his most cautious diligence within
A not far distant wood, in whose black shade
He meant his fury should his foe invade,
Lodged by his master. Which discovered truth,
Frightening her tears from the swift chase of youth
And beauty into froward age, to meet
Sorrow in private shades, withdraws the sweet
But sad Carina, who resolves to spend
Her sighs unnoted by her dearest friend.
This in Florenza, who foresaw that nought
But passions more than common could have wrought
So swift a change, works high; who, that she might
Displume these ravens ere the babes of light
Smile in their weeping mother's face, prepares
To see Carina: who, with wakeful cares,
(Her sad companions) by her friend surprised,
No longer in their ebon veil disguised
Her thoughts' pure candor; but with looks that did
Seem to implore assistance, whilst they chid
Her own indulgent nature, shows her how
Preposterous love made her to passions bow,
Whose fruit, since none of her first planters came
From forward man, could be but female shame.
This, with its fatal author, known, to free
Her friend from shame, herself from cruelty,
Unto Mazara, whose firm love attends
Her least commands, incensed Florenza sends.
Whose zeal-transported soul no sooner hears
That welcome sound, but, though presaging fears
Prompt him to stay, least haughty honor fall,
Ruined by fame, he lets her standards fall
Before commanding love, and goes to wait
On's honored mistress. But this sly deceit
Of hope no cordial proves unto the sad
Carina's grief; the long experience had
Of his affection to Florenza, tells
Her doubtful soul — those even parallels
Could not by all her friend's persuasions be
Wrested into the least obliquity.
Which sad mistrust did love precipitate
On paths whose danger frights protecting fate.
Assured the combat's hour drew on, and that
Mazara's love-sick soul was offering at
Florenza's shrine, and by that willing stay
Might be enforced some minutes to delay
The time, in which his readier opposite
Expected him, she, being resolved to write
Affection in her blood, with love's wild haste
Makes toward the lists; there finds his armour placed
Within the dark shade of an antient wood,
In whose black breast that place of horror stood
Where they appoint to meet, like those of fate
Obscure and dark, by beasts and birds that hate
The light alone frequented; but love had
Displumed fear's haggars: being resolved, she clad
Beauty's fair pearl, where smooth delights did dwell,
I' the rough-cast mould of that Cyclopian shell.
But that no arms nor bounding steeds affright,
Where love's fair hand hath valour's passport writ,
Here we should pause, and pity her that now
Fancy beholds, whilst she is learning how
To manage stubborn steel within her sleek
And polished hand, through devious paths to seek
For doubtful dangers, such whose horrid shape
On man's best judgment might commit a rape.
Her swift conductor, love, ere this had brought
Her to the place, where passion had not sought
Long for the object of her hate, ere she
Her valiant brother, that was come to be
His fame's protector, sees, but so disguised
In 's arms, that both, with envy unadvised
By knowledge, an unthought of guilt prepare
In blood to meet. Their foaming horses were
Now freed from the commanding rein, and in
Their full career; but love in vain to win
The field from valour strives, her eager haste
But argues such an envy as did waste
Itself in weak attempts; which, to the length
Of power extended, falls beneath the strength
Of her victorious foe, whose fortune had
In robes of joy, what he must weep for, clad.
Conquered Carina, now dismounted, lay
Struggling for life; whose fortress to betray
Toward nature's tyrant, death, her blood transports
False spirits through their purple salliports.
Her brother, with an anger that was grown
Into disdain — his fury should be shown
On such resistless subjects, ere he knows
How much of grief his soul to sorrow owes
For this unhappy act, from 's finished course
Was now returning, not by strength to force
The harsh commands of tyrant victors, but
By calm advice a bloodless end to put
To that ill-managed quarrel: but before
He there arrives, to make his sorrows more
When truth unveils their dark design, a knight,
With haste as speedy as the secret flight
Of wrath when winged from angry Heaven, he saw,
Bolted into the lists; who soon did draw
Too near, in sober language to dispute
Their fatal quarrel. Both with rage grown mute,
Disdaining conference, found no place for words
Amidst the mortal language of their swords;
Which, the first shock passed o'er and lances broke,
In haste took place, and at each furious stroke
Unbayed the fountains of their blood, to stain
With purple guilt the flower-enamelled plain.
Whilst each did thus with silent rage employ
An art-directed fury to destroy
The other's strength, the bordering shadows weep
In trickling dews, and with sad murmurs keep
Time with the hollow and ill-boding note
Sent from a fatal raven's stretched-out throat,
Which from an old oak's withered top did sing
A baleful dirge. But these sad omens bring
No terror to their busy thoughts, which were
Too much employed in action, to take care
For any danger more remote than what
With the next stroke might fall. Perceiving that
Their horses faint, they both dismount, and do
On equal terms the fight on foot renew,
Till a cessation, from the want of breath
Not valour, was enforced. The veil, which death
Contracted from those steams his reeking blood
Breathed forth its spirits in, already stood
Over Mazara's eyes, which clouded sees
Not that approach of night; his trembling knees
Stagger beneath their fainting load, which in-
T' the grave had dropped, had not their fury been,
When its last heat was with life's flame near spent,
From further rage restrained by accident.
Some of the lost Carina's frighted friends,
Fearing those ills which desperate love attends,
Spending that morning in the fruitless quest
Of her had been, and now (their hopes distrest
With vain inquiries) to communicate
Their grief returning were; which secret fate
To interpose, through dark meanders brought
Neglect to find what care in vain had sought.
Whilst yet no more than brave humanity
Prompts them to part a quarrel that might be
Defiled with blood, which, if not shed in wars,
With murder stains what it doth gild with scars,
They toward them haste, even in that critical
And dangerous minute when Mazara's fall,
With victory's laurels to adorn his crest,
His valiant friend had robbed of future rest,
Had not this blest relief of innocence,
The one from death, the other from expense
Of tears, restrained, before revenge had found
So much of guilt as might his conscience wound.
His high-wrought rage stopped by too many hands
To vent its heat, Euriolus now stands,
Shook with the fever of his anger, till
Those friends, which saw Mazara grown so ill
With wounds to gasp for breath, by giving way
For air, they to the victor's view betray
His best of friends. At which afflicting sight,
Cursing the cause of that unhappy fight,
His sword as guilty thrown aside, he hastes
To his relief; in which kind act none wastes
Their friendly help: life, as but stolen from pain
Behind the veil of death, appears again
On nature's frontiers; whose returning flame,
Though scarce of strength to warm, looked red with shame,
When he so many well-known friends beheld,
Sad witnesses, how much his passion swelled
Above the banks, where reason should have staid,
When to that meeting it his friend betrayed.
Their veils of steel removed, each now beholds
What shame and wonder in firm contracts folds.
Amazed stands brave Euriolus to see,
None but his friend — his honored friend should be
The parent of that quarrel; shame confounds
Mazara more, and from internal wounds,
Though like the Red Sea's springs his other bled,
Perhaps less danger, but more torment bred.
Both now by his unforced confession knew
Whose equal-honored beauty 'twas that drew
Them to this fatal combat, whose event
Him near the grave on love's vain errand sent.
Friendship renewed in strict embraces, they
Are now arrived where weak Carina lay,
So faint with love's phlebotomy that she,
Masked in forgetful slumbers, could not see
Approaching shame; which, when discovered, sticks
Life's fair carnations on her death-like cheeks.
Hasting to see what over-forward rage
That unknown stranger's weakness did engage
In that unhappy quarrel, they beheld,
At the first glance, an object that expelled
Into the shades of sorrow's wilderness
All temperate thoughts: — his sister's sad distress,
Wrought by his arm whose strength betrayed her near
The grave, did to Euriolus appear,
Dreadful as if some treacherous friend had shown
Those flames in which his scorched companions groan.
Nor did Mazara, though but prompted by
Pity, that tender child of sympathy,
With less relenting sorrow live to see
Love's bloody trophies, though unknown to be
By his victorious beauty reared. To save
From the cold grasp of an untimely grave
So ripe a virgin, whilst her brother stands
Unnerved with grief, amongst the helpful hands
Of other friends are his employed, till, by
Their useful aid, fled life returns to try
Once more the actions of the world, before
It shot the gulph of death; but on the shore
Of active nature was no sooner set,
But that, together with the light, she met
Her far more welcome lover. Whom whilst she
Beholds with trembling, Heaven, resolved to free
A suffering captive, turns his pity to
So much of passion, as ere long love grew
On the same stem; whose flowers to propagate,
She in these words uncurtains mystic fate: —
" Forbear your aid, brave sir, and let me die,
Ere live the author of a prodigy
That future times shall curse! Yet pardon me,
Dear brother, Heaven will ne'er impute to thee
The guilt of blood — 'twas my unhappy love
Which raised this storm; which, if my prayers may prove
In death successful, let me crave of you,
Dear sir, to whom I long have borne a true
But indiscreet affection, that from hence,
For poor Carina's sake, for this expense
Of tears and blood, you would preserve those dear
Respects of friendship, that did once appear
Confirmed betwixt you; and, although my fate
Unto the worst of ills precipitate
My fame and life, oh! let my name not be
Offensive to your ear. This, this for me,
Is all you shall perform. " — Which spoke, she 'd let
Her hovering soul forth, to have paid the debt
Of nature to the grave, had not she been
By some assisting friends, whilst dropping in,
Staid at the last step, and brought back to meet
The bridal pair, no single winding sheet.
This doubtful combat ended, they are to
The court conveyed; where Fame, upon this new
Text commenting, in various characters
Transcribes her sense: — some this bold act of her's
Term unbecoming passion, others brave
Heroic love. But what most comfort gave
To cured Carina, was, that this lost blood
Had proved love's balm, and in a purple flood
Washed from her heart grief's sable stains; for now
Merit had taught her dear Mazara how
To prize her virtuous love, and for its sake
Its cabinet her heart's best temple make.
Thus passion's troubled sea had settled in
A smooth and gentle calm, had there not been
Unhappily, to blast their sweet content,
Not long before an act, for th' banishment
Of all such courtiers, made, as should, without
A licence from the council, fight about
Whatever private quarrel. But not this
Mazara or his new choice frights — their blis
Stood on more firm foundations than the court's
Uncertain favors were: whose glorious sports
Although he left, it was not to retire
To sullen cares; what honor could require,
A state, which called him her unquestioned lord,
Without depending favors, did afford.
But whilst we leave this noble lover, by
This mandate freed from what before did tie
Unto a troublesome attendance, we
From brave Euriolus are forced to be
With sorrow parted, since the general love
His virtue had obtained, wants strength to move
The ponderous doom. Ere his impoverished heart,
Grown poor in streams, could from life's springs impart
Warm blood enough for his pale cheeks to drink
A health to beauty, he 's enforced to think
Of that sad theme of parting; on whose sense
His grieved soul dictates sighs, yet could dispense
Even with its harshest rigor, were there but
Any exception in it, that might put
Out parting with Florenza, that though he
Were shrunk into his former poverty,
Calling the rugged frowns of fate, would bear
A brow unclouded with ambition's care.
But he must go: — not all the rhetoric
Of tempting love could plead against the quick
Approach of time; whose speedy motion now
Only some slippery minutes did allow
Their parting tears: in whose exalted flood,
Had reason not with-future hopes withstood
The rising stream, love's summer fruits had been,
O'erwhelmed with grief, for ever buried in
A deluge of despair; but that, whilst she,
With such sad looks as wintering Scythians see
The sun haste toward the arctic pole, beholds
His slow departure, glimmering hope unfolds
Twilight, which now foretels their frozen fear —
Day may return to love's cold hemisphere.