By that way's fide there fat infernal Pain,
And faft beside him fat tumultuous Strife;
The one in hand an iron whip did strain,
The other brandished a bloody knife,

And both did gnash their teeth, and both did threaten

life.

On the other fide in one confort there fate
Cruel Revenge, and rancorous Despite,
Difloyal Treason, and heart-burning Hate;
But gnawing Jealoufy, out of their fight
Sitting alone, his bitter lips did bite;
And trembling Fear ftill to and fro did fly,
And found no place where fafe he throud him
might,

Lamenting Sorrow did in darkness lie,
And Shame his ugly face did hide from living eye.
And over them fad Horror, with grim huc,
Did always foar, beating his iron wings;
And after him owls and night-ravens flew,
The hateful meffengers of heavy things,
Of death and dolour telling fad tidings;
Whilft fad Celeno, fitting on a cliff.
A fong of bale and bitter forrow fings,
That heart of flint afunder would have ift;

A dreary corfe, whofe life away did pafs,
All wallow'd in his own yet lukewarm blood,
That from his wound yet welled freth, alas!
In which a ruffy knife faft fixed stood,
And made an open paffage for the gushing flood.
Which piteous fpectacle, approving true
The woeful tale that Trevifan had told,
When as the gentle Red Crofs knight did view,
With fiery zeal he burnt in courage bold,
Him to avenge before his blood were cold;
And to the villain faid: Thou damned wight!
The author of this fact, we here behold,
What juffice can but judge against thee right,
With thine own blood to price his blood, here
fhed in fight.

What frantic tit (quoth he) hath thus diftraught
Thee, foolish man, fo rafh a doom to give
What justice ever other judginent taught,
But he fhould die, who merits not to live?
None elfe to death this man defpairing drive
But his own guilty mind deferving death.
Is then unjust to each his due to give?
Or let him die, that loatheth living breath?
Or let him die at eafe, that liveth here uneath?

Which having ended, after him the flicth fwift. Who travels by the weary wand'ring way,

120. Defcription of Despair, and ber Speech. ERE long they come, where that fame wicked

wight

His dwelling has, low in an hollow cave,
Far underneath a craggy clift ypight,
Dark, doleful, dreary, like a greedy grave,
That still for carion carcaffes doth crave:
On top whereof ay dwelt the ghaftly owl,
Shrieking his baneful note, which ever drave
Far from that haunt all other cheerful fowl :
And all about it wand'ring ghofts did wail and
howl.

And, all about, old ftocks and Atubs of trees,
Whereon nor fruit nor leaf was ever feen,
Did hang upon the ragged rocky knees;
On which had many wretches hanged been,
Whole carcaffes were fcatter'd on the green,
And thrown about the clifts. Arrived there,
That bare-head knight, for dread and doleful teen,
Would fain have fled, ne durft approachen near
But th' other forc'd him ftay, and comforted it
fear.

The dark fome cave they enter, where they find
That curfed man, low fitting on the ground,
Mufing full fadly in his fullen mind;
His greafy locks, long growing and unbound,
Difoidered hung about his fhoulders round,
And hid his face: thro' which his hollow eyne
Look'd deadly dull, and stared as astound;
His raw-bone cheeks, through penury and pine,
Were fhrunk into his jaws, as he did never dine.
His garment, nought but many ragged clouts,
With thorns together pinn'd and patched was,
The which his naked fides he wrapp'd abouts :
And him belide there lay upon the grafs

To come unto his wifhed home in hafte,
And meets a flood that doth his paffage ftay,
Is not great grace to help him over-pait,
Or free his feet, that in the mire stick faft?
Moft envieus man that grieves at neighbour's
good;

And fond, that joyeft in the woe thou haft;
Why wilt not let him pafs, that long hath stood
Upon the bank, yet wilt thyfelf not paf's the flood?
He there does now enjoy eternal rest,
And happy cafe, which thou doft want and crave,
What if fome little pain the paffage have,
And further from it daily wanderest:
That makes frail fleth to fear the bitter wave?
Is not fhort pain well borne, that brings long cafe,
And lays the foul to fleep in quict grave?
Sleep after toil, port after stormy feas, [please.
afe after war, death after life, does greatly
The knight much wonder'd at his fudden wit,
And faid: The term of life is limited,
Ne may a man prolong or shorten it:
or leave his ftand, until his captain bed.
The foldier may not move from watchful sted,
Who life did limit by almighty doom
(Quoth he) knows beft the terms established;
And he that points the centinel his room,
Doth licenfe him depart at found of morning droom.
Is not his deed, whatever thing is done,
In heaven and earth? Did not he all create
To die again? All ends that was begun;
Their times in his eternal book of fate

Are written fure, and have their certain date.
Who then can strive with ftrong neceffity,
That holds the world in his ftill changing state,
Or fhun the death ordain'd by destiny?
When hour of death is come, let none afk whence,
por why...!!

The longer life, I wote the greater fin,
The greater fin, the greater punishment;
All thofe great battles which thou boats to win,
Thro' ftrife, and bloodshed, and avengement,
Now prais'd hereafter dear thou thali repent:
For life muft life, and blood must blood, repay.
Is not enough thy evil life forefpent?
For he that once hath miffed the right way,
The further he doth go, the further he doth tray.
Then do no further go, no further ftray,
But here lie down, and to thy reft betake,
Th' ill to prevent, that life enfuen may :
For what hath life, that may it loved make,
And gives not rather cause it to forfake?
Fear, fickness, age, loss, labour, forrow, strife,
Pain, hunger, cold, that makes the heart to quake,
And ever fickle fortune rageth rife,

The damned ghofts, that do in torments wail,
And thoufand fiends that do them endless pain
With fire and brimftone, which for ever fhall re-

main.

The fight whereof fo throughly him dismay'd,
That nought but death before his eyes he faw,
And ever-burning wrath before him laid,
By righteous fentence of th' Almighty's law:
Then 'gan the villain him to over-craw,
And brought unto him fwords, ropes, poison, fire,
And all that might him to perdition draw;
And bade him choose what death he would defire;
For death was due to him that had provok'd God's
ire.

But when as none of them he faw him take,
He to him raught a dagger tharp and keen,
And gave it in his hand; his hand did quake,

All which, and thoufands more, do make a loath-And tremble like a leaf of afpin green,

fome life.

Thou, wretched man, of death haft greatest need,
If in true balance thou wilt weigh thy ftate;
For never knight that dared warlike deed
More lucklefs difadventures did amate:
Witnefs the dungeon deep, wherein of late
Thy life thut up, for death fo oft did call;
And though good luck prolonged hath thy date,
Yet death then would the like mishaps forettall,
Into the which hereafter thou mayit happen fall.
Why then doft thou, O man of fin, defire
To draw thy days forth to their laft degree?
Is not the measure of thy finful hire
High heaped up with huge iniquity,
Against the day of wrath, to burden thee?
Is not enough, that to this lady mild
Thou falfed haft thy face with perjury,
And fold thyfelf to ferve Dueffa vild,
With whom in ali abuse thou haft thyself defil'd
Is not he just that all this doth behold
From highest heaven, and bears an equal eye?
Shall he thy fins up in his knowledge fold,
And guilty be of thine impiety

Is not his law, Let every finner die?
Die fhall all fleth What then must needs be done,
Is it not better to do willingly,

Than linger till the glass be all out-run ?
Death is the end of woes. Die foon, O Fairy's fon.
The knight was much enmoved with this fpeech,
That as a fword's point through his heart did
pierce,

And in his confcience made a fecret breach,
Well knowing true all that he did rehearse,
And to his fresh remembrance did reverfe
The ugly view of his deformed crimes,
That all his manly pow'rs it did difperfe,
As he were charmed with inchaunted rhimes,
That oftentimes he quak'd, and fainted often-
times.

In which amazement when the miscreant
Perceived him to waver weak and frail,
With trembling horror did his conscience dant,
And hellish anguish did his foul affail:
To drive him to defpair, and quite to quail,
He fhew'd him painted in a table plain,

And troubled blood thro' his pale face was feen
To come and go; with tidings from the heart,
As it a running meffenger had been:
At laft refolv'd to work his final fmart,
He lifted up his hand, that back again did start.
Which when as Una faw, through every vein
The crudled cold ran to her well of life,
Out of his hand fhe fnatch'd the curfed knife,
As in a fwoon: but foon reliev'd again,
And threw it to the ground, enraged rife,
And to him faid: Fie, fie, faint-hearted knight !
What meanest thou by this reproachful strife?
Is this the battle which thou vaunt'st to fight
With that fire-mouthed dragon, horrible and
bright?

Come, come away, frail, filly, fleshy wight,
Ne let vain words bewitch thy manly heart,
Ne devilish thoughts difinay thy constant spright:
In heavenly mercies halt thou not a part?
Why thouldst thou then defpair, that chofen art?
Where juftice grows, there grows eke greater

Forth at his lips in huge abundance boil'd—
Fly, Argillan, from this falfe camp fly far,
Whole guide a traitor, captains murd'rers are.

§ 122. Image of Armida and Attendants, enraged
at Rinaldo's bewing down the Myrtle to diffolve
the Charm.

HE lift his brand; nor car'd, tho' of the pray'd,
And the her form to other thape did change;
Such monfters huge, when men in dreams are laid,
Oft in their idle fancies roam and range:
Her body fwell'd, her face obfcure was made;
Vanifh'd her garments rich, and veftures strange;
A giantess before him high fhe ftands,

Arm'd, like Briareus, with an hundred hands:
With fifty fwords, and fifty targets bright,
She threaten'd death, the roar'd, fhe cried, and
fought,

Each other nymph, in armour likewife dight,
A Cyclops great became; he fear'd them nought,
But on the myrtle fmote with all his might,
Which groan'd, like living fouls to death nigh
brought;

The fky feem'd Pluto's court, the air feem'd hell,
Therein fuch monsters roar, fuch fpirits yell.

Lighten'd the heaven above, the earth below
Roared aloud that thunder'd, and this fhook:
Blufter'd the tempefts ftrong: the whirlwinds blow;
The bitter ftorm drove hail-ftones in his look;
But yet his arm grew neither weak nor flow,
Till low to carth the wounded tree down bended:
Nor of that fury heed or care he took,
Then fled the fpirits all, the charms all ended.

123. Defcription of Armida's wonderful Parrot WITH party-colour'd plumes, and purple bill, A wondrous bird among the reft there flew, That in plain fpeech fung love-lays loud and fhrill;

Here Leden was like human language true;
So much the talk'd, and with fuch wit and skill,
That ftrange it feemed, how much good the
knew:

Her feather'd fellows all ftood hush to hear;
Dumb was the wind, the waters filent were.
The gentle budding rofe, quoth fhe, behold,
That first fcant peeping forth with virgin beams,
Half ope, half fhut, her beauties doth unfold
In its fair leaves, and, lefs feen, fairer feems,
And after spreads them forth more broad and
bold,

Then languifheth, and dies in laft extremes;
Nor feems the fame that decked bed and bow'r
Of many a lady late and paramour.
So, in the paffing of a day, doth pass
The bud and bloffom of the life of man,
Nor e'er doth flourish more; but, like the grafs
Cut down, becometh wither'd, pale, and wan:

Oh, gather then the rofe, while time thou haft;
Short is the day, done when it fcant began;

Gather the rofe of Love, while yet thou mayft,
She ceas'd; and, as approving all the spoke,
Loving be lov'd, embracing be embrac'd.
The choir of birds their heavenly tunc renew;
The turtles figh'd, and fighs with kiffes broke
The fowls to fhades unfeen by pairs withdrew :
It feem'd, the laurel chafte, and ftubborn oak,

And all the gentle trees on earth that grew,

It feem'd, the land, the fea, and heaven above, All breath'd out fancy fweet, and figh'd out love.

GLOVER'S LEONIDAS.

124. Leonidas's Addrefs to bis Countrymen. -HE alone

Rifing he displays

Remains unfhaken.
His godlike prefence. Dignity and grace
With ftrength Herculean. On his afpect fhines
Adorn his frame, and manly beauty, join'd

Where juftice gives the laurel; in his eye
The inextinguishable fpark, which fires
The fouls of patriots; while his brow fupports
Undaunted valour, and contempt of death.
Serene he rofe, and thus addrefs'd the throng:

Sublimeft virtue, and defire of fame,

Why this aftonishment on ev'ry face,
Ye men of Sparta? Does the name of death
Create this fear and wonder? O my friends!
Why do we labour thro' the arduous paths
Which lead to virtue? Fruitlefs were the toil,
Above the reach of human feet were plac'd
The diftant fummit, if the fear of death
His blackeft frowns and terrors he affumes
Could intercept our paffage. But in vain
To thake the firmnefs of the mind, which knows
That, wanting virtue, life is pain and woe;
That, wanting liberty, ev'n virtue mourns,
And looks around for happinefs in vain.
My heart exulting, anfwers to thy call,
Then fpeak, O Sparta, and demand my life;
And fmiles on glorious fate. To live with fame
The gods allow to many; but to die
With equal luftre, is a bletfing Heaven
Selects from all the choiceft boons of fate,
And with a fparing hand on few bestows.

$125. Leonidas's Anfwer to the Perfian Ambaf
fator.

RETURN to Xerxes; tell him, on this rock
His chofen myriads; tell him, thou haft feen
The Grecians, faithful to their post, await
How far the luft of empire is below

A free-born mind: and tell him, to behold
A tyrant humbled, and by virtuous death
To feal my country's freedom, is a good
Surpaffing all his boasted pow'r can give.

* Rinaldo.

§ 126,

8

I

116. Pathetic Farervel of Leonidas to bis Wife | He stands indulging tenderness and love

and Family.

SEE, I feel thy anguish, nor my foul

Has ever known the prevalence of love,
E'er prov'd a father's fondnefs, as this hour;
Nor, when moft ardent to affert my fame,
Was once my heart infenfible to thee.
How had it itain'd the honours of my name
To hefitate a moment, and fufpend'
My country's fate, till fhameful life preferr'd
By my inglorious colleague left no choice,
But what in me were infamy to shun,
Not virtue to accept! Then deem no more
That, of my love regardlefs, or thy tears,
I hafte uncall'd to death. The voice of fate,
The gods, my fame, iny country, bid me bleed.
O thou dear mourner! wherefore ftreams afresh
That flood of woe? Why heaves with fighs re-
new'd

That tender breaft? Leonidas muft fall.
Alas! far heavier mifery impends
O'er thee and thefe, if foften'd by thy tears
I fhamefully refufe to yield that breath,
Which juftice, glory, liberty, and Heaven
Claim for my country, for my fons, and thee.
Think on my long unalter'd love. Reflect
On my paternal fondness. Has my heart
E'er known a paufe of love, or pious care?
Now fhall that care, that tendernefs, be prov'd
Moft warm and faithful. When thy husband dies
For Lacedæmon's fafety, thou wilt thare,
Thou and thy children, the diffufive good.
Should I, thus fingled from the rest of men,
Alone entrusted by th' immortal gods
With pow'r to fave a people, fhould my foul
Defert that facred caufe, thee too I yield
To forrow and to fhame; for thou muft weep
With Lacedæmon, must with her fuftain
Thy painful portion of oppreffion's weight.
Thy fons behold now worthy of their names,
And Spartan birth. Their growing bloommuftpine
In fhame and bondage, and their youthful hearts
Beat at the found of liberty no more.
On their own virtue, and their father's fame,
When he the Spartan freedom hath confirm'd,
Before the world illuftrious fhall they rife,
Their country's bulwark, and their mother's joy.
Here paus'd the patriot. With religious awe
Grief heard the voice of virtue. No complaint
The folemn filence broke. Tears ceas'd to flow:
Ceas'd for a moment; foon again to stream.
For pow, in arms before the palace rang'd,
His brave companions of the war demand
Their leader's prefence; then her griefs renew'd,
Too great for utt'rance, intercept her fighs,
And freeze each accent on her falt ring tongue.
In fpeechlefs anguifh on the hero's breaft
She finks. On ev'ry fide his children prefs,
Hang on his knees, and kifs his honour'd hand.
His foul no longer struggles to confine
Its ftrong compunction. Down the hero's cheek,
Down flows the manly forrow. Great in woe,
Amid his children, who inclofe him round,

In graceful tears, when thus, with lifted eyes,
Addrefs'd to Heaven: Thou ever-living Pow'r,
Look down propitious, fire of gods and men !
And to this faithful woman, whofe defert
May claim thy favour, grant the hours of peace.
And thou, my great forefather, fon of Jove,
O Hercules, neglect not these thy race!
But fince that fpirit I from thee derive,
Now bears me from them to refistless fate,
Do thou fupport their virtue ! Be they taught,
Like thee, with glorious labour life to grace,
And from their father let them learn to die!

§ 127. Characters of Teribazus and Ariana. AMID the van of Perfia was a youth

Nam'd Teribazus, not for golden ftores,
Not for wide paftures travers'd o'er with herds,
With bleating thoufands, or with bounding steeds,
Not yet for pow'r, nor fplendid honours, fam'd.
Rich was his mind in ev'ry art divine,
And thro' the paths of fcience had he walk'd
The votary of wifdom. In the years
When tender down invests the ruddy cheek,
He with the Magi turn'd the hallow'd page
Of Zoroafter; then his tow'ring foul
High on the plumes of contemplation foar'd,
And from the lofty Babylonian fane
With learn'd Chaldeans trac'd the mystic sphere;
There number'd o'er the vivid fires that gleam
Upon the dufky bofom of the night.

Nor on the fands of Ganges were unheard
The Indian fages from fequefter'd bow'rs,
While, as attention wonder'd, they difclos'd
The pow'rs of nature; whether in the woods,
The fruitful glebe or flow'r, or healing plant,
The limpid waters, or the ambient air,
Or in the purer element of fire.
The fertile plains where great Sefoftris reign'd,
Mysterious Egypt, next the youth furvey'd,
From Elephantis, where impetuous Nile
Precipitates his waters to the fea,

Which far below receives the fevenfold ftream.
Thence o'er th' Ionic coaft he ftray'd; nor pafs'd
Miletus by, which once enraptur'd heard
The tongue of Thales; nor Priene's walls,
Where wifdom dwelt with Bias; nor the feat
Of Pittacus, along the Lesbian fhore.
Here too melodious numbers charm'd his ears,
Which flow'd from Orpheus, and Mufæus old,
And thee, O father of immortal verfe!
Mæonides, whofe strains thro' ev'ry age
Time with his own eternal lip fhall fing.
Back to his native Sufa then he turn'd
His wand'ring fteps. His merit foon was dear
To Hyperanthes, generous and good;
And Ariana, from Darius fprung
With Hyperanthes, of th' imperial race
Which rul'd th' extent of Afia, in difdain
Of all her greatnefs, oft an humble ear
To him would bend, and liften to his voice.
Her charms, her mind, her virtue he explor'd
Admiring.