But most the proud Honoria fear'd th' Event,

And thought to her alone the Vision sent. 320 Her Guilt presents to her distracted Mind Heav'n's Justice, Theodore's revengeful Kind,

And the same Fate to the same Sin assign'd;. Already sees her self the Monster's Prey, And feels her IIeart, and Entrails torn away. 'Twas a mute Scene of Sorrow, mix'd with fear;

Still on the Table lay th' unfinished Cheer; The Knight, and hungry Mastiffs stood around,

The mangled Dame lay breathless on the Ground;

When on a suddain reinspired with Breath, Again she rose, again to suffer Death; 331 Nor stay'd the Hell-hounds, nor the Hunter stay'd,

But follow'd, as before, the flying Maid: Th' Avenger took from Earth th' avenging Sword,

And mounting light as Air, his Sable Steed he spurr'd:

The Clouds dispell'd, the Sky resum'd her Light,

And Nature stood recover'd of her Fright.

But Fear, the last of Ills, remain'd behind, And Horror heavy sat on ev'ry Mind. Nor Theodore incourag'd more his Feast, 340 But sternly look'd, as hatching in his Breast Some deep Design, which when Honoria view'd

The fresh Impulse her former Fright renew'd:

She thought her self the trembling Dame who fled,

And him the grisly Ghost that spurr'd th' infernal Steed:

The more dismay'd, for when the Guests withdrew,

Their courteous Host saluting all the Crew Regardless passed her o'er; nor grac'd

with kind adieu.

That sting infix'd within her haughty Mind,) The downfalof her Empire she divin'd; 350 And her proud Heart with secret Sorrow pin'd.

Home as they went, the sad Discourse) renew'd

Of the relentless Dame to Death pursu'd, And of the Sight obscene so lately view'd;

None durst arraign the righteous Docm she bore,

Ev'n they who pity'd most yet blam'd her

more:

The Parallel they needed not to name,
But in the Dead they damn'd the living
Dame.

At ev'ry little Noise she look'd behind, For still the Knight was present to her Mind: 360 And anxious oft she started on the way, And thought the Horseman-Ghost came thundring for his Prey.

Return'd, she took her Bed with little Rest,

But in short Slumbers dreamt the Funeral Feast:

Awak'd, she turned her Side; and slept) again,

The same black Vapors mounted in her Brain,

And the same Dreams return'd with double Pain.

Now forc'd to wake because afraid to sleep

Her Blood all Fever'd, with a furious Leap She sprung from Bed, distracted in her Mind,

370 And fear'd, at ev'ry Step, a twitching Spright behind.

Darkling and desp'rate, with a stagg'ring pace,

Of Death afraid, and conscious of Disgrace; Fear, Pride, Remorse, at once her Heart assail'd,

Pride put Remorse to flight, but Fear prevail'd.

Friday, the fatal Day, when next it came, Iler Soul forethought the Fiend would

change his Game,

And her pursue, or Theodore be slain, And two Ghosts join their Packs to hunt her o'er the Plain.

This dreadful Image so possess'd her Mind,

380

That, desp'rate any Succour else to find, She ceas'd all farther Hope; and now began To make reflection on th' unhappy Man. Rich, Brave, and Young, who past expres

sion lov'd,

Proof to Disdain; and not to be remov'd:
Of all the Men respected, and admir'd,
Of all the Dames, except her self, desir'd:

Why not of her? Preferr'd above the restBy him with Knightly Deeds, and open Love profess'd?

So had another been; where he his Vows address'd.

390

This quell'd her Pride, yet other Doubts remain'd,

That once disdaining she might be disdain'd:

The Fear was just, but greater Fear prevail'd,
Fear of her Life by bellish Hounds assail'd:
He took a low'ring leave; but who can tell
What outward Hate might inward Love
conceal?

Her Sexes Arts she knew, and why not then
Might deep dissembling have a place in Men?
Here Hope began to dawn; resolv'd to try,)
She fix'd on this her utmost Remedy; 400
Death was behind, but hard it was to die.
"Twas time enough at last on Death to call;
The Precipice in sight, a Shrub was all,
That kindly stood betwixt to break the
fatal fall.

One Maid she had, belov'd above the rest: Secure of her, the Secret she confess'd: And now the chearful Light her Fears dispell'd,

She with no winding turns the Truth conceal'd,

But put the Woman off, and stood reveal'd:

With Faults confess'd commission'd her to go,

410

If Pity yet had place, and reconcile her Foc.

The welcom Message made, was soon receiv'd;

'Twas what he wish'd, and hop'd, but scarce believ'd;

Fate seem'd a fair occasion to present, He knew the Sex, and fear'd she might repent,

Should he delay the moment of Consent. There yet remain'd to gain her Friends (a Care

The modesty of Maidens well might spare ;) But she with such a Zeal the Cause embrac'd,

(As Women where they will, are all in hast,)

420

That Father, Mother, and the Kin beside,
Were overborn by Fury of the Tide:
With full consent of all, she chang'd her
State,

Resistless in her Love, as in her Hate.

By her Example warn'd, the rest beware; More Easy, less Imperious, were the Fair; And that one Hunting which the Devil design'd,

For one fair Female, lost him half the Kind.

403 sight, al sight: A 1700.

In Malice witty, and with Venom fraught, Ile makes me speak the Things I never thought.

;

Compute the Gains of his ungovern'd Zeal Ill sutes his Cloth the Praise of Railing well! The World will think that what we loosly

write,

Tho' now arraign'd, he read with some delight;

Because he seems to chew the Cud again, When his broad Comment makes the Text too plain,

CYMON AND IPHIGENIA.

1 Ladies] Christie and Saintsbury give lady's Some editors give ladies' There can be no

to be

Horace, Car. iii. 26. 1.

I, nor my fellows, nor my Self excuse;
But Love's the Subject of the Comick Muse:
Nor can we write without it, nor would you
A Tale of only dry Instruction view;
Nor Love is always of a vicious Kind,
But oft to virtuous Acts inflames the Mind,
Awakes the sleepy Vigour of the Soul,
And, brushing o'er, adds Motion to the
Pool.
30

Love, studious how to please, improves our
Parts,

With polish'd Manners, and adorns with Arts.

Love first invented Verse, and form'd the Rhime,

The Motion measur'd, harmoniz'd the Chime;

To lib'ral Acts inlarg'd the narrow-Soul'd, Soften'd the Fierce, and made the Coward Bold:

The World when wast, he Peopled with increase,

And warring Nations reconcil'd in Peace. Ormond, the first, and all the Fair may find In this one Legend to their Fame design'd, When Beauty fires the Blood, how Love | exalts the Mind.

41

IN that sweet Isle, where Venus keeps her Court,

And ev'ry Grace, and all the Loves resort; Where either Sex is form'd of softer Earth, And takes the bent of Pleasure from their Birth;

There liv'd a Cyprian Lord, above the rest Wise, Wealthy, with a num'rous Issue blest.

But as no Gift of Fortune is sincere, Was only wanting in a worthy Heir: His eldest Born a goodly youth to view 50 Excell'd the rest in Shape, and outward

Shew;

Fair, Tall, his Limbs with due Proportion join'd,

But of a heavy, dull, degenerate Mind.
His Soul bely'd the Features of his Face;
Beauty was there, but Beauty in disgrace.
A clownish Mien, a Voice with rustick sound,
And stupid Eyes, that ever lov'd the Ground.

He looked like Nature's Error; as the Mind' And Body were not of a Piece design'd, But made for two, and by mistake in one were join'd. 60.

The ruling Rod, the Father's forming Care,

Were exercis'd in vain, on Wit's despair; The more inform'd the less he understood, And deeper sunk by flound'ring in the Mud.

Now scorn'd of all, and grown the publick Shame,

The people from Galesus changed his name, And Cymon call'd, which signifies a Brute; So well his Name did with his Nature sute.

His Father, when he found his Labour lost,

And Care employ'd that answer'd not the Cost,

70

Chose an ungrateful Object to remove, And loath'd to see what Nature made him love;

So to his Country-Farm the Fool confin'd: Rude Work well suted with a rustick Mind. Thus to the Wilds the sturdy Cymon went, A Squire among the Swains, and pleas'd with Banishment.

His Corn, and Cattle, were his only Care, And his supreme Delight a Country-Fair. It happen'd on a Summers Holiday, That to the Greenwood-shade he took his way;

80

For Cymon shunn'd the Church, and us'd not much to Pray.

Ilis Quarter Staff, which he cou'd ne'er forsake,

Hung half before, and half behind his Back. Ile trudg'd along unknowing what he sought,

And whistled as he went, for want of Thought.

By Chance conducted, or by Thirst constrain'd,

The deep Recesses of the Grove he gain'd; Where, in a Plain, defended by the Wood, Crept through the matted Grass a Chrystal

Flood,

By which an Alabaster Fountainstood: 50) And on the Margin of the Fount was laid (Attended by her Slaves) a sleeping Maid Like Dian and her Nymphs, when, tir'd with Sport,

To rest by cool Eurolas they resort:

Her Body shaded with a slight Cymarr; Her Bosom to the view was only bare: Where two beginning Paps were scarcely spy'd

For yet their Places were but signify'd: The fanning Wind upon her Bosom blows,) To meet the fanning Wind the Bosom rose; The fanning Wind, and purling Streams continue her repose.

The Fool of Nature, stood with stupid Eyes

And gaping Mouth, that testify'd Surprize, Fix'd on her Face, nor cou'd remove his Sight,

New as he was to Love, and Novice in Delight: 110 Long mute he stood, and leaning on his Staff, His Wonder witness'd with an Ideot laugh; Then would have spoke, but by his glimmering Sense

First found his want of Words, and fear'd Offence:

Doubted for what he was he should be known,

By his Clown-Accent and his Country-Tone. Through the rude Chaos thus the running Light

Shot the first Ray that pierc'd the Native Night:

Then Day and Darkness in the Mass were mix'd,

Till gather'd in a Globe, the Beams were lix'd:

120 Last shon the Sun who, radiant in his Sphere

Illumin'd Heav'n, and Earth, and rowl'd around the Year.

So Reason in this Brutal Soul began:
Love made him first suspect he was a Man;
Love made him doubt his broad barbarian

What not his Father's Care, nor Tutor's Art

Cou'd plant with Pains in his unpolish'd Heart, 130

The best Instructor Love at once inspir'd,
As barren Grounds to Fruitfulness are fir'd;
Love taught him Shame, and Shame with
Love at Strife

Soon taught the sweet Civilities of Life;
His gross material Soul at once could find
Somewhat in her excelling all her Kind:
Exciting a Desire till then unknown,
Somewhat unfound, or found in her alone.
This made the first Impression in his Mind,
Above, but just above, the Brutal Kind. 140
For Beasts can like, but not distinguish too,
Nor their own liking by reflection know;
Nor why they like or this, or t'other Face,
Or judge of this or that peculiar Grace;
But love in gross, and stupidly admire ;
As Flies allur'd by Light, approach the
Fire.

Thus our Man-Beast advancing by degrees First likes the whole, then sep'rates what he sees;

On sev'ral Parts a sev'ral Praise bestows, The ruby Lips, the well-proportion'd Nose, The snowy Skin, in Raven-glossy Hair, 151 The dimpled Cheek, the Forehead rising fair,

And ev'n in Sleep it self a smiling Air. From thence his Eyes descending view'd the rest,

Her plump round Arms, white Ilands, and heaving Breast.

Long on the last he dwelt, though ev'ry part

A pointed Arrow sped to pierce his Heart.

Thus in a trice a Judge of Beauty grown, (A Judge erected from a Country-Clown) He long'd to see her Eyes in Slumber hid, And wish'd his own cou'd pierce within the