html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }Mysterious Love, the Souls sublimest Theame,
Whose first great Ethicks, gave this divine name;
When, in the Morning-being of Mankind,
Some gentle Blushes, had his Thoughts refin'd.
And, the more Bashful Female, had deny'd
The Claimes of Nature, till more solely ty'd;
Wond'ring, that to Perpetuate Mans Name,
She did forget to vaile Promiscuous shame.
Till when, frail Mankind common Courtships knew,
And Females not less bold, than Males might woo;
From Natures too large Charter, that imply'd,
She gave a Sex, in stead of one Faire Bride.
While Love, that Blush'd, in Lusts wide walkes to Range,
Appropriates Nature, thus indulg'd to Change;
Teaching, that Souls must in a Paire of Hearts
Receive, and Interchange his mighty Darts.
Hence Marriage Rites, and Joyes were first assign'd,
And Man, and Woman, to one Bed confin'd;
Though Love ('tis doubted) took a hard task here,
To limit Passion, Natures wanton Heir.
While, but the Heards of Sence, not charm'd by Eyes,
Or Breaths of Kisses, Humane Hearts surprize,
Free, as the Ayre, that sports in Fields, and Groves,
Beget their Issues, and injoy their Loves.
Nor do they beauties soft Allurements know,
Or chuse a Female, for her tender Hew;
Though deck'd with Furrs of Ermins, Princes Grace,
Nor for the Rose, and Lillies of the Face.
But with a Naked Sence delight their kind,
Not jealous, when some other Male does find
The same Injoyments, for which Mankind prove
Unhappy Flames, and raging Acts of Love.
While Poets, to exalt this mighty Theam;
Ador'd Love first, in their soft Godheads Name;
Telling the world of wondrous charms, and fires,
This Deity[errata 1] in Lovers Breasts inspires.
How he creats a sympathy in hearts,
Converting am'rous beams into his darts;
And as his Engins Lovers eyes convey,
The Babes of Love seem new begot to play.
From such like wonders, Poets first did raise
Temples, and Altars to this Godheads praise;
And like some Superstitions, boldly tell,
How many Martyrs, of this fond Sect fell.
Yet, as Belief in Superstitions Dress,
Seems more Heav'ns Mistress in that frail Excess,
Than Faith, which too much like good Houswife, goes,
And without Pomp, the truth too simply shews.
Thus Poets, (Priests of Nature) did devise.
A God, and Muses, for her Pageantries;
Judging her Robes were but too rudely worn,
Untill her Train was by these Handmaides born.
Whence they her sacred mysteries convey,
Abst acting souls from sence's dull allay;
Making the brightest glories of the mind,
From Gems, (the Muses wear) Reflection find.
But Love, the Queen of Passions, chiefly fame,
Whose fires did first Parnassus Beacons flame,
To warn the world, this Monarck conquers more,
Than all the Power of Arms in Battle wore.
And in this Brittish Court, a Scene now lay'd,
That had the Muses nine times nine been made,
Poets must fruitlessly have spent their fire,
To blaze the Charms these Royal hearts inspire.
While Great Bonduca's breast does entertain
Two glorious Monarchs, undistinguish'd raign;
And, as she strives to place an Empire there,
Albianus value, Vortigers must share.
And though their beauteous forms all hearts surprise,
She gives her Soul Allegeance in her eyes;
That with such virtuous hommage on these look,
As Love hence Themes, his best Platonick Book.
Yet fears she does commit a crime, to be
Divided thus, in his sov'raignity;
Wishing her heart could separate this fire,
And there inthrone of these, one love intire.
Sometimes she leaves the Glories of her Court,
And does with them to flowry shades resort;
Hoping some Rose in Pity there might steal
The am'rous blushes, her soft Cheeks reveal.
Then gently speaks of their past warrs, and praise,
The Fuell, that her hearts high flames does raise;
And thence makes Loves Heroick Theame her choice,
But soon with bashfull accents, stayes their voice.
And now more powerfully her words supplies,
By beaming softer Language from her eyes;
While each, as Love does this Expression use,
Have equal hopes, and fears, which Prince she'll chuse,
Who now could wish, some other Princess were
Her Rival made in virtue, and more fair;
By Heaven to one of these devoted too,
That she may seem to neithers love untrue.
And thus perceiving these Heroick hearts,
Felt with her own, Loves equal wounding darts;
Fears that his flames, though gently fann'd, may raise
Excess of passions, rage, and fury blaze.
Then chides her heart, that did admit Loves spies,
To keep discover'd watches in her eyes;
While she might inward burn, and yet conceal
The flames, her love too rashly does reveal.
Who knows alass, she must not both enjoy,
Yet cannot either by neglect destroy;
But hopeless fears, a Lover to remain,
Of both these Princes, and yet neither gain.
And now delay, (ev'n wisdoms cold despair)
Does beg of Heav'n, to ease this mighty care;
Which, though Times slow, and silent feet it use,
Meets Lovers hearts, oft, with decrees they'd chuse.
And as she had Loves high concern declin'd,
With thoughts of Empire, seems to fill her mind;
Hnd how of Monarchs they most happy raign,
While all their Crowns, one friendly Power maintain.
Next stately Pastimes in her Court prepares,
Thus to delude their anxious hopes, and fears;
With those most fam'd diversions, Brittains boast,
Were then their Courts magnificence, and cost.
But these great Heroes, who from Love did bear
Too jealous eyes, as deeply pierce her care;
Grieving with theirs, her virtues did conspire,
To wound her Breast, with a divided fire:
Disdaining, thus in one despair to live,
Since death to both, or either, cure might give;
And, what becomes their Souls, and Greatness too,
Relief upon the Queens Extremes bestow:
And now some Nights had sad companions spent,
Weighing fit means, to perfect this intent;
That to the Queen may accidental seem,
Or, as Fate did this Act in kindness deem,
Yet hope, that Heav'n from death will one reprieve,
Lest dying both, the Queen should cease to live;
And Love a glorious Triumph loose in her,
That can't else one, unto her heart prefer.
While they, as if no stormy passions brought
Their souls to shipwrack on these rocks of thought,
Like bravest Pilots, unconcern'd appear,
And in their looks, the calms of Summer wear.
Thus, as they meet in presence of the Queen,
In strict Endearments, and Embrace, are seen;
And as Love slept in Cradles of her eyes,
Mention no accent, his soft rest surprise.
While she did both their passions weight endure,
To Heav'n, and Time remits her hearts high cure;
Though love, that Hope[errata 2], as sparing diet needs,
Scarce cools the Fever, but his flame more feeds.
And thus with gracious Eloquence does speak,
Renown'd of Princes, since my Court you make
A Scene, where you wore happy victors Bayes
Must flourish, should Time feel the age of dayes,
Who now to give his Calends glory, calls,
For warlike Arthurs high Memorials;
Who fell the last of Brittains Royal Line,
And with our Foes did numerous[errata 3] Battels joyn.
For which Fames Trump does an Attendant wait;
This said, In great magnificence, and state,
To Fortitudes admired Fane repair,
His dust intomb'd with Princes great in warr.
And where for wonder their vast Spears were plac'd,
Bold Picts pursu'd, or hardy Romans chac'd;
With Bowes no other might like theirs e'r drew,
And Armour, that Men now would Dwarfish show.
While Choristers in stately measures sing,
The Martial Glory, of each mighty King;
With Arthur's Deeds, scarce Stories this day blaze
That by Times Guilt; lose wonders of his Praise.
Which done, to Honor Fortitudes high Name
With these brave Relicks, Heroes past did Fame;
In solemne state Devote unto this Fane
Their Mighty Spears (had fierce Alvatrix slain
And warlike Ennius) which in Shrines they place,
That from the Queens Gift, Precious Gems did Grace,
And next to spacious Fields, a Progress lead,
Were kept devoted to these Glories dead;
In which, they use of Armes, and Pastimes held,
Brittains (so far all Nations else) excell'd.
Where they behold, how some for Garlands run,
Swift, as Time made them Footmen, to the Sun;
With nimble Wrestlers, that most useful show,
How strengths rough force, to skil should conduct owe.
And here the Bowmen shoot with dext'rous aimes,
Whence Ages past, this Isle such Prowess claimes;
Whose force in Guns black use, though now laid by,
Gave Deaths, where their fierce Thunders useless fly
Some next the Race on Brittish Coursers take,
More swift, than those, Epyrus Glories speak;
Or such, the Barbes neat kind, at this Day Fame,
Or, the Arabick generous Horse can claime;
Of these, the Victors Browes, with Palmes are spread,
Pleas'd with the Glory, to be Conqu'rors led;
And, lest Fames Trump, should not their Praises bear,
Exulting, Neigh shrill Joyes, find wings of Ayre.
And thus for wonder, some on backs of Steeds;
They here enforce, unto their utmost speeds;
Pierce Marks with Arrows, or as Chariots glide
Their swift Carreers, as happy Shafts do guide:
To whom, the Queen does Silver Quivers give;
And, that the use of Bowes, more fam'd might live,
Invites the Princes, with her self to try,
Which Shaft of theirs, with happy'st Aime shall fly:
And thus a Jewel from her Breast she takes,
For their Bright Marke; at which her Arrow makes
Such dext'rous wing, as it the Ring of Gold
Pierces, this object to their aimes did hold:
Which done, these mighty Heroes Shafts take Flight,
Dubious, which to the Gemm most near does light;
But, Albianus's, did chance to rest
Nearest the Queens; Loves measure judgeth best.
Which the Great Vortiger resenteth so,
As Love, with theirs, had bent his Partial Bow;
Scarcely concealing, those resolves of Fate,
Their Hearts, in this high Cause, decreed so late:
But Fate, that had occasion duely chose,
Gives to his Flames, an outward seem'd repose;
And, as the Queen, a grievous Part must bear,
Makes her spectator, of Loves danger here:
Who, with a longing Glory, to behold
The stately Tournments, Brittains held of old;
Gladly the Princes with their Chiefs does see,
Renowning thus, Great Arthur's Memory.
While in a Marble Throne, her Person's plac'd,
That with his Mighty Warlike Figure's grac'd;
Beneath whom, these in costly Arms sit round,
Tables, like those, in Arthur's Court were found.
When his bold Knights, and Heroes, Triumphs made
For Conquests, or such stately Pastimes had;
Or else, in Honor of Fam'd George, held Feasts,
To entertain, such valiant Brittains Guests.
And hence, in shining Armes, the Princes rise,
To lead the way to these Solemnities;
While, after they had strict Embracings past,
The Queen, nor any thought, were meant their last.
Albianus does to Vortiger convey
This fatal Whisper; If both fall this day,
'Tis but Loves Justice; or if one survive,
May then Loves Mercy, him Bonduca give.
At which, great Vortigers stout heart does melt,
That Wars deep wounds, had unconcern'd still felt;
And now his Eyes permits to shed some Tears,
Wishing, his Death may end this Princes Cares.
Thus Mounted with their Chiefs, and Brittish Knights,
Select the most approv'd in these brave Rites;
Such as great Arthur in his Life did Fame,
For Glorious Tournments, and Wars daring Flame;
Of whom, Albianus does Darander take,
With stout Androgeus Lists did famous make;
And bold Clarinus, expert as the rest,
With twenty Knights, on each side skill'd the best.
To whom great Vortiger his Chiefs does add,
Corynus, Troylus, Torringer, all glad
Their Launces, with their Martial Prince, to weild,
Whom Foes could ne'r resist, when Fought in Field:
Who, for their Judges, fam'd Martianus chuse,
With brave Favonius, could to wonder use
Their Armes in Turn'ments; and from Rome had won
Trophies, their Valours highly did Renown:
And from the Queen had Garlands to bestow,
With Silver Shields, must happy Victors show;
That here most dext'rously their Launces guide,
And best command, their furious Steeds, bold Pride.
From whom, the Signal Given, on Coursers meet,
Might challenge Windes, to match their speedy Feet;
While from their Hoofes, the Ground does seem to shake,
As it did now, an Earthquakes Ague take.
And in these Glorious Pastimes here, to show
How much their Prowess, against Foes could doe;
Their mighty Launces, (though tough Limbs of Oake.)
Are, with their onsets, into shivers broke.
Rebounding from their Armed Breasts, so high,
As if they did from Battering Engins fly;
Which these upon their Steeds, unmov'd abide,
Might level Towers, Assaults of War defy'd.
While these great Princes, that submitted here,
Their Lives, and Loves, to Fates regardless care;
Had slightest Armours with design put on,
Their Launces Pierce, and in their Bodies run:
From whence blood issues out, with so much haste,
As now their lives, must but few minutes last;
That even their souls, were taking wing to sly
To Deaths Pale seates, frail Natures Ignomy.
And thus fall from their Steeds, imbru'd in Gore,
While all here Present, doe from Heaven Implore
Their hopeless Lives; which how shall Brittains mourn,
Or Gaules, and Romanes, hence despair returne?
But more than all, the beauteous Queen opprest
With griefe, and Love, each storming now her Breast;
A while wants Power, to lift to Heaven her eyes,
Or speak with Tears, her tender hearts surprize.
Then calls for help, from such best skill'd in Cure,
But finds, their Arts cannot her Fears secure;
And even Heaven blames, that Love allow'd such charmes,
Should be no Medicine, to heal their harmes.
Yet, as Loves Cordials, layes her lips to theirs,
Mingling of kisses, with the Balme of Tears;
While such deep simpathy, her heart does feel,
As thence, her tender life begins to steal.
Whose Rose, and Lilly Cheeks, now turn to pale,
That even her beauties shine, but through deaths vaile;
Her Pulse scarce beating Natures utmost strife,
While Virgin-Palmes, her Temples Chafe for life.
Amidst whose Armes, she's in a Chariot laid,
And gently towards her Court, is thus convey'd;
Next whom the Princes, are in Litters borne,
This glorious Presence, (sad Attendants) mourn;
Invoking Heaven with Teares, and loudest Griefe,
To yield their Lives, in these extreames Reliefe;
Yet more, then their deep Cures, the Queens despair,
That in her breast, the wounds of Love did bear:
In this distress, some Sages present, move,
They should Merlinus skill, before all prove;
Who had such wondrous Cures, for Brittains wrought,
By Remedies, no Art, save his, e'r taught.
To whom all yield, and make Merlinus know,
What high concernes, require his Presence now,
While Queen, and Princes, mournfully they bear,
To Beds of ease, scarce breathing lifes last ayre.
The End of the Fifth Canto.