Canto the fourth

Now, as if that great engineer of ill,
Accursed Almanzor, had accomplished all
Those black designs, which are ordained to fill
The Spartan annals, by his prince's fall;

With secret spite, yet such as seemed to be
From an advised protector of the state,
Pharonnida's ill fate assisting, he
Toward her destruction prosecutes his hate.

That dismal night, which in the dark records
Of story yet so much of fate affords
In the Morean annals, had to day
Resigned its reign, whose eastern beams display
Their morning beauties; by whose welcome light,
The early courtier, tired with tedious night,
Rises to meet expected triumphs in
Their princess' nuptials, which so long had been
The joyful business of their thoughts, that now
Sallying to action, they 're instructed how
To court observance from the studied pain
Of best inventions — by attractive gain,
Joined to the itch of ostentative art,
Were thither drawn from each adjacent part.
In this swelled torrent of expected mirth,
Which all conclude must make this morning's birth
To future ages celebrated by
An annual triumph, the disparity
Of passion, sorrow, first breaks forth among
The slain Epirot's followers; who so long
Had missed their master, that they now begin
To doubt his safety. Every place had been
By strict inquiry searched, to which they knew
Either affection or employment drew
His frequent visits; but with an effect
So vain, their care served only to detect
Their love, not him its object; who might have
Lain till corruption sought itself a grave,
Had not an early forester so near
The place approached, that maugre all that fear
Alleged to stop a full discovery, he
Beheld so much as taught him how to free
His friends from further fruitless searches, in
Discovering what beneath their fears had been.
In sorrow, such as left no power to vent
Its symptoms, but a deep astonishment,
The amazed Messenians, whom a sad belief
Deprived of hope, did entertain their grief.
Whose swift infection to communicate —
Their murdered prince, as if pale death kept state
Clad in the crimson robes of blood, is to
The city brought; where, whilst the public view
In busy murmurs spread her sable wings,
Pale terror to the court, grief's centre, brings
The dreadful truth; which some officious lord,
Whom favor did the privilege afford
Of easy entrance, through the guards of fear
In haste conveys, to assault the prince's ear.
With such a silence as did seem to show
Unwelcome news is in its entrance slow,
Entered the room, he 's with soft pace unto
The bed approached; whose curtains when withdrew,
Discovered horror in the dismal dress
Of death appears — Freed from the slow distress
Of age, that coward tyrant which ne'er shows
His strength till man wants vigor to oppose,
Through death's dark gates fled to the gloomy shade,
Whose fear, or hope, not knowledge doth invade
Our fancies yet, he man's material part
There only sees; which form, whose heavenly art
Tunes motion into th' faculties of life,
Had now forsook; the elemental strife,
Which had so long at concord aimed, was now
Silenced in death; on his majestic brow
No awful frown did sit; the blood's retreat
From life and action left his cheeks the seat
Of death's cold guest, which, summoned by his fate,
There in a pale and ghastly horror sat.
Whilst the astonished courtier did behold
This, with such trembling as, when graves unfold
Their doomsday's curtains, sinful bodies shall
Rise from their urns — eternally to fall,
His stay, caused from restrictive fear, had drew
In more spectators; to whose wondering view
This ghastly object when opposed had strook
So swift a terror, that their fears forsook
The safe retreats of reason. Seeing life
Had now concluded all the busy strife
Of nature's conflicts, by delivering those
Time-shaken forts unto more powerful foes,
Outcries in vain attempt for pity to
Scale Heaven; whose ear when from their prayers withdrew,
The court, now of her royal head bereft,
In a still calm of hopeless sorrow left.
Infectious grief, disdaining now to be
Confined within the brief stenography
Of first discoverers, spreads itself among
The city herd; whose rude unsteady throng
Raised grief, which in the mourning court did dwell
In such a silence as an anchorite's cell
Ne'er knew a heavier solitude, into
Exalted outcries: whose loud call had drew
From their neglected arts so many, that
What first was choler, now being kindled at
Their rage, like humors grown adust, had been
The open breach to let rebellion in;
Had not the wiser nobles, which did know
That vulgar passions will to tumult grow
When backed with power, by a new-modelled form
Of counsel soon allayed this rising storm.
Their tears, those fruitless sacrifices to
Unactive grief, wiped off, whilst they did view
The state's distempered body, to supply
The wants of that departed majesty,
Which, when their prince from life's horizon fell,
Fled from their view, before report should tell
This fatal story to the princess, they
A council call; by whose advice she may,
Whilst floating in this sea of sorrow, be
Saved from those unseen rocks, where treachery,
Rebellion's subtle engineer, might sit
To wreck the weakness of a female wit;
Which, though in her such that it might have been
The whole world's pilot, could, since clouded in
Such a tempestuous sea of passions, see
No star that might her safe director be.
A messenger, whose sad observant wit
By age allayed, seemed a conveyor fit
For such important business, with the news
Hastes towards the princess. Who, whilst fear pursues
On wings of pity, being arrived within
The palace, he, as that alone had been
The only seat where rigid sorrow took
Her fixed abode, beholds each servant's look
Obscured with grief; through whose dark shades whilst he
Searches the cause, the strange variety
Explains itself — As families that have
Led their protecting ruler to the grave,
Whose loss they in a heedless sorrow mourn
So long, till care doth to distraction turn,
Her servants sat; each wildly looking on
The other, till even sense itself was gone
In mourning wonder; whose wild flight to stay,
Its cause they to the pitying lord display
In such a tone, as, whilst it did detect
The princess' absence, showed their own neglect.
When this he'd heard, with such a sympathy
Of sorrow, as erected grief to be
The mourning monarch of his thoughts, to those
Returned that sent him, he that transcript shows
Of this obscure original — the flight
Of the absent princess, whilst the veil of night
Obscured her passage, tells: but, questioned — how,
With whom, or whether knowledge did allow
No satisfaction, all inquiry gained
From her amazed attendants, but explained
Their grief; whose troubled rivulet flowed in
To that vast ocean, where before they'd been
By sorrow shipwrecked, in the general flood
Mixed, wants a language to be understood
In a peculiar character, and so
Conjoined, makes up one universal woe.
Only, as if love knew alone the art
That taught his followers how to mourn apart,
Sad, sweet Orlinda, whose calm innocence
Had fostered passion at her health's expense;
Whilst wet with grief's o'erflowing spring, she to
Her brother's ghost did pay soft nature's due,
In sorrow of such sad complexion, that
Others might lose their own to wonder at;
Yet when, as in the margin placed, she hears
Amindor lost, with new supplies of tears
Grief sallying forth, as if to be betrayed
Love now did fear, he draws the bashful maid
From those that did the mourning concert keep,
Where she unseen for love's decease doth weep;
Frail woman's faith, and man's neglect doth blame,
And softly then sighs out Amindor's name —
Her lost Amindor, whose supposed disdain
Destroyed those spirits grief could ne'er have slain.
And now before that power's decay engage
Too many hands in a vindictive rage,
The wise supporters of the state, to stay
Encreasing factions, which can ne'er obey
Least fear commands, unto Almanzor send
A mandate, which enjoins him to attend
Their councils in this interregnum, till
Their joint consent had found out one to fill
The empty throne. Which summons, prompted by
A care which they interpret loyalty,
Though truly called ambition, he obeyed
With such a speed as love would fly to aid
A ravished lady; having to impede
His march no more than what his care could lead
Even with a winged speed, yet that a strength
Enough to make his will confine the length
Of their desires, who soon in council sit
But to bewail the abortion of their wit.
The frighted city having entered in
A mourning march, as if his thoughts had been
A stranger to the sad events of this
So dismal night, he by relation is
Informed of each particular: which he
Seeming to hear in grief's extremity,
From silent sorrow which appeared to wait
On still attention, his prepared deceit
Disguised in rage appears; a rage which, in
Its active flight to find what hearts had been
Defiled with thoughts of such foul crimes, did seem
So full of zeal, its actions did redeem
The lost report of loyalty in those
His former crimes made his most constant foes.
By guarded gates, and watchful parties that
Surround the walls, till th' people, frighted at
Their fury, shrink from public throngs. They now
Assured of safety, whilst inquiring how
Hell hatched these monsters — whose original
Whilst searching, they, by the consent of all
His best physicians, whose experienced skill
From outward signs knew what internal ill
Death struck the prince, informed the cause could be
From nought but such a subtle enemy
As poison; which, when every accident
They had examined, all conclude was sent
Mixed with that cordial, whose concealed receipt
Unknown to art, their envy termed the bait
To tempt the easy prince's faith into
That net which death, allured by treason, drew.
With power, from this embraced suspicion sprung,
Almanzor, whom not envy's spotted tongue
Durst call profane, though rudely forcing those
Weak gates, which need no greater strength to oppose
Unclean intruders, than the reverence they,
Enforced by zeal, did with religion pay
Unto that place's sanctity; which he
Contemning, ere the wronged society
Expecting such injurious visits, in
Rude fury entering, those whose power had been
Employed by noble pity to attend
The suffering princess, in such haste did send
Them to her close and dark abodes, that now
Their doubts confirmed, they 're only studying how
To shun that danger which informing fear
Falsely persuades towards them alone drew near.
Which dark suspicion, ere unclouded by
Seizing on him whose innocence durst fly
To no retreat, the royal fugitives
Back to the vault where first they entered, drives.
Now, at the great'st antipathy to day,
The silent earth oppressed with midnight lay
Vested in clouds, black as they had been sent
To be the whole world's mourning monument;
When through the cave's damp womb, conducted by
A doubtful light that scarce informed the eye
To find out those unhaunted paths, they, in
A faint assurance, with soft pace begin
To sally forth; where, unsuspected, they
Are seized by guards that in close ambush lay:
Which, ere amazement could give action leave
To seek for safety, did their hopes deceive
By close restraint. Awed by whose power, they 're to
Almanzor brought; who from that object drew
Such joy as fills usurpers, when they see
Wronged princes struggling with captivity.
From hence in such disdainful silence led
As taught their fear, from just suspicion bred,
To tremble at some unknown ill; about
That sober time when light's small lamps go out
At the approach of day's bright glories, brought
Back to the court, they there not long had sought
Their sorrow's sad original, before
A court convened of such whose power had bore
(Whilst God's own choice, a monastry, had lent
Their dictates law) the weight of government.
They hither called by summons that did sound
Like bold rebellion, in sad omen found
More than they feared: — A mourning train of lords
Placed round a black tribunal, that affords
To the spectator's penetrating eye
A dismal horror clothed in majesty.
Like hieroglyphics pointing to that fate
Which must ensue, all yet in silence sat —
A dreadful silence! such as unto weak
Beholders seemed to threaten, when they speak,
Death and destruction dictates. When they saw
Their princess entered, as if rigid law
To loyal duty let the sceptre fall,
In an obedient reverence raised, they all
Lowly salute her; but that complement
To bribe their pity, fear in vain had spent.
When all resuming now their seats, command
The royal captives, whose just cause did stand
On no defence but unknown truth, to be
Summoned t' the bar; where, that they first might see
What rigor on the royal blood was shown,
From no unjust conspiracy had grown,
A sable curtain from their herses drawn,
Betrays her eyes, then in the sickly dawn
Of grief grown dim, unto that horrid place
Where they met death drawn in her father's face;
By whom, now turned into well-modelled clay,
Fitted for 's tomb, the slain Epirot lay.
At this, as if some over-venturous look
For temperate rays, destructive fire had took
In at her soul's receiving portals, all
Life's functions ceased; sorrow at once lets fall
The burthen of so many griefs, which in
A death-like slumber had forgotten been,
Till human thoughts, obliterated by
The wished conversions of eternity,
Oppressed no more, had not injurious haste,
Before this conflict could those spirits waste,
Which had, to shun passion's external strife,
Fled to the primum mobile of life,
Recalled with them her sorrows to attend
Their nimblest motions, which too fast did spend
Her strength, to suffer weakness to obey
The court's intentions of a longer stay.
From ruffled passions which her soul opprest,
By the soft hand of recollecting rest
Stroked to a calm, which settled Reason in
Her troubled throne; by those that first had been
Her guards, the princess — that fair pattern whence
Men drew the height of human excellence,
Is now returned, to let her proud foes see,
That the bright rays of magnanimity,
Though envy like the ungrateful moon do strive
To hide that sun, except what's relative
Ne'er knows eclipse, the darkness taking birth
From what's below, whilst that removed from earth,
Her clear unclouded conscience, ever stays
Amongst bright virtue's universal rays.
The mourning court, those ministers of fate,
In expectation of their prisoners sat: —
They now appear in those disguises which
They first were took, being habits, though not rich
Enough to gild their rare perfections, yet
Such as did seem by sorrow made to fit
Their present sufferings: — both the men clothed in
Monastic robes, black as their threads had been
Spun from Peruvian wool; the women, clad
Like mournful votaries, showed so sweetly sad,
As if their virtues, which injurious fate
Did yet conceal, striving to anticipate
The flights of time, had to the external sense
Showed these as emblems of their innocence.
But love, nor pity, though they both did here
Within their judges' sternest looks appear,
Durst plead for favor; their indictments read,
So guilty found, that those whose hearts e'en bled,
Disdained their eyes should weep, since justice did
In such foul crimes mercy as sin forbid.
Yet more to clear what circumstance had made
Level with reason, from the approaching shade
Of death redeemed, that lord, whose wounds had been
But slumbers to recover safety in,
When the Messenian murdered was, did now
Declare, as far as reason could allow
The eyes to judge, those habits, which they then
Did wear, the same which clothed the murderers when
His prince was slain; which open proof appears
So full of guilt, it stops her friends' kind fears,
Ere raised to hope, and in appearance shows
A guilt, which all but pity overgrows.
The vexed Epirots, who for comfort saw
Revenge appearing in the form of law,
Retired, to feed their spleen with hope, until
The extent of justice should their vengeance fill.
When now, by accusations that denied
Access to pity, for a parricide
The princess questioned, whose too weak defence,
Being but the unseen guards of innocence,
Submits to censure. Yet to show that all
Those scattered pearls, which from her eyes did fall,
Dropped not to attempt their charity, but show
That no injurious storm could overflow
Her world of reason — which exalted stood
Above the surface of the spacious flood,
(Her tears for grief, not guilt, being shed), whilst in
The robes of magnanimity, not sin
Grown impudent, her brave resolved soul sat
Unshaken in this hurricane of fate.
To meet her calm, which like religion drest
Doth all become, but female virtues best,
The rough Amindor, whose discolored face
Anger did more than native beauty grace,
Since justly raised, disdaining thus to be
By a plebeian base captivity
Forced to submit his innocence unto
Their doubtful test, had from his anger drew
A ruin swifter than their hate intends,
Had not his rage, while it toward danger bends,
Been taught by her example to exclude
Vain passions with a princely fortitude;
Whose useful aid, like those good works which we
For comforts call in death's necessity,
Brought all their better angels to defend
Them from those terrors which did death attend.
In busy whispers, which discovered by
Their doubtful looks the thoughts' variety,
Long in sad silence sat the court; until
Those noiseless streams of fancy which did fill
Each several breast, united by consent,
Want only now a tongue so impudent
As durst condemn their sovereign; which being in
Theumantius found, a lord whose youth had been
By favors nursed, till power's wild beast, grown rude,
Repays his forester with ingratitude.
This bold, bad man, love's most unhappy choice,
From flattery's treble now exalts his voice,
Without the mean of an excuse, into
The law's loud base, and what those feared to do
That had been favored less, that black decree
Pronounced, which discords all the harmony
Of subject fear and sovereign love, by what
Succeeding ages justly trembled at
Whilst innocent, but have of late been grown
So bad to show such monsters of their own.
This sentence passed, which knew no more allay
Of mercy, than what lets their judgment stay
From following life to death's obscure retreat,
Till twenty nights had made their days complete,
The court breaks up; yet ere from public view
To close restraint the royal captives drew,
Grant them this favor from their rigid laws —
That if there durst, to vindicate their cause,
In that contracted span of time appear
Any whose forward valour durst endear
The people's love and prayers so much — to be
Their champion, that his victory should free
Them from that doom's strict rigor; to oppose
Which brave attempter they Almanzor chose,
Since high command that honor did afford
To him alone, to wield the answering sword.
Now near departing, whilst the Cyprian in
A brave disdain, which for submissive sin
Looks on an answer, as his haste would show
An anger that did scorn to stoop so low
To strike with threats, stands silent; whilst that she,
Whose temper heaven had made too calm to be
By rage transported, with a soul unmoved
By stormy passions, thus their sin reproved: —
" Should I, my lords, here with a female haste
Discharge my passions, 'twere, perhaps, to waste
My prayers or threats, whilst one you would not fear,
Nor the other pity: but when Heaven shall clear
This curtained truth, wrapped in whose cloudy night,
Unjustly you, from my unquestioned right
By birth — obedience, into faction stray,
Then, though too late, untimely sorrow may
Strive by repentance to expunge these stains
Cast on your honor. These exhausted veins,
Fixed eyes, pale cheeks, death's dismal trophies, in
This royal face I now could not have seen
With a less sorrow than had served to call
Me to attend him, had not the rude fall
Of your injustice, like those dangerous cures
Performed by turning into calentures
Dull lethargies, upon my heart laid hold
In such a flame of passion, as the cold
Approach of death wants power to quench, until
You add that crime to this preceding ill.
" Yet, though no fear can prompt my scorn to crave
A subject's mercy for myself, to save
This noble stranger, whose just acts, being crost
By misconstruction, have their titles lost,
I shall become your suppliant, least there be
A sin contracted by his serving me;
And only in such noble ways as might
Unveil themselves t'the sun's meridian light.
Sure he unjustly suffers; which may cause
You want more swords to vindicate your laws,
Than his you late elected to make good
Your votes, ere scarce cleansed of that loyal blood
He in rebellion shed: — but I am now
Too near my fatal period, to allow
Disturbing passion any place within
My peaceful soul. Whate'er his crimes have been
In public war, or private treason, may
Kind Heaven, when with the injustice of this day
Those shall be strictly questioned, to prevent
Their doom, conceal them in the large extent
Of mercy's wings, which there may prove so kind
To you, though here I can no justice find! "
This spoken, in a garb that did detect
A sorrow which was ripened to neglect,
She silent stands; whilst through the thick resort
Of thronged spectators, toward the rising court
Orlinda comes, with such a haste as showed
That service she by love's allegiance owed —
Love, which had sorrow's sable wings out-fled,
To mourn the living, not lament the dead.
Come where her fears' now near lost object she
Within the shadow of the grave might see
By sentence shut, neglecting death that lay
In ambush there her reason to betray
To hate, when, by the false informing law,
Her friend she as her brother's murderer saw,
In actions such as Scythian tyrants feel
Some softness from, she that ne'er used to kneel
To aught but Heaven, a lowly suppliant falls
Before the court; from whose stern breasts she calls
So much of sorrow as perhaps had strook
Them all with horror, if a sudden look
Obliquely on her murdered brother cast,
Had not, ere love assaulted with her last
And powerfullest prayers, whilst hot with action, in
A cool retreat of spirits silenced been.
She, fainting fallen, as an addition to
Their former grief, is from the throng withdrew
Into the free untainted air — where, by
Assisting friends, which gently did apply
Their needful aid, heat, which was then grown slack
In nature's work, antipathy calls back
To beauty's frontiers; where, like bashful light,
It in a blush meets the spectators' sight,
But such an one, as, ere full blown, is by
Her friend's disasters forced again to fly
Beneath those clouds of grief, whose swelling pride,
Spread by report, did now not only hide
The court or city, but to bear a part
Of that sad load summons each subject's heart.
Whilst now the prisoners, ere the people's love
To anger turn, the active guards remove,
To still the clamorous multitude, who, swayed
By various passions, did, whilst each obeyed
Opinion's dictates, but in darkness rove
At shadowed truth, whence now they boldly strove
To pluck the veil from, declarations that
Contained those falsehoods, which whilst wondering at,
They wept to force upon their faith, are sent
Through th' land's each town, and army's regiment;
By which Almanzor, who attempted in
This plot to join security with sin,
Doubting, if e'er this story reach his ear,
Argalia might their combatant appear,
Besides those stains which common fame did take
For sin's just debts, slily attempts to shake
The heaven-erected fabric of his love
By closer engines, such as seemed to move
On noble pity, which with grief engrost
That faith which envy in disdain had lost.
Black rumor, on the wings of raised report
Flying in haste, had soon attained the court
Of the amazed Ætolian prince; who hears
The dreadful story with such doubtful fears
As shook his noble soul, but not into
An easy faith each circumstance was true;
He knew Almanzor's villany to be
Of that extent, so foul a progeny
As all those horrid murders, might from thence
Take easy birth: but when the innocence
Of's virtuous princess, and his honored friend,
The noble Cyprian prince, come to contend
With oft confirmed report, that strikes a deep
And solemn grief, yet such as must not keep
A firm possession in his soul, until
A further inquisition either kill
His yet unfainting hopes, or raise them to
Joy by confirming those reports untrue.