John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

by John Dryden

  In Theseus this appears; whose youthful Joy

  Was Beasts of Chase in Forests to destroy;

  This gentle Knight, inspir’d by jolly May,

  Forsook his easie Couch at early Day, 225

  And to the Wood and Wilds pursu’d his Way.

  Beside him rode Hippolita the Queen,

  And Emily attir’d in lively Green,

  With Horns, and Hounds, and all the tuneful Cry,

  To hunt a Royal Hart within the Covert nigh: 230

  And, as he follow’d Mars before, so now

  He serves the Goddess of the Silver Bow.

  The way that Theseus took was to the Wood,

  Where the two Knights in cruel Battel stood:

  The Laund on which they fought, th’ appointed Place 235

  In which th’ uncoupl’d Hounds began the Chace.

  Thither forth-right he rode to rowse the Prey,

  That shaded by the Fern in Harbour lay;

  And thence dislodg’d, was wont to leave the Wood

  For open Fields, and cross the Crystal Flood. 240

  Approach’d, and looking underneath the Sun,

  He saw proud Arcite, and fierce Palamon,

  In mortal Battel doubling Blow on Blow.

  Like Lightning flam’d their Fauchions to and fro,

  And shot a dreadful Gleam; so strong they strook, 245

  There seem’d less Force requir’d to fell an Oak:

  He gaz’d with Wonder on their equal Might,

  Look’d eager on, but knew not either’ Knight:

  Resolv’d to learn, he spurr’d his fiery Steed

  With goring Rowels, to provoke his Speed. 250

  The Minute ended that began the Race,

  So soon he was betwixt’ em on the Place;

  And with his Sword unsheath’d, on Pain of Life

  Commands both Combatants to cease their Strife:

  Then with imperious Tone pursues his Threat; 255

  What are you? Why in Arms together met?

  How dares your Pride presume against my Laws,

  As in a listed Field to fight your Cause?

  Unask’d the Royal Grant; no Marshal by,

  As Knightly Rites require; nor Judge to try? 260

  Then Palamon, with scarce recover’d Breath,

  Thus hasty spoke; We both deserve the Death,

  And both wou’d die; for look the World around,

  A Pair so wretched is not to be found.

  Our Life’s a Load; encumber’d with the Charge, 265

  We long to set th’ imprison’d Soul at large.

  Now, as thou art a Sovereign Judge, decree

  The rightful Doom of Death to him and me,

  Let neither find thy Grace, for Grace is Cruelty.

  Me first, O kill me first, and cure my Woe; 270

  Then sheath the Sword of Justice on my Foe:

  Or kill him first, for when his Name is heard,

  He foremost will receive his due Reward.

  Arcite of Thebes is he; thy mortal Foe,

  On whom thy Grace did Liberty bestow, 275

  But first contracted, that, if ever found

  By Day or Night upon th’ Athenian Ground,

  His Head should pay the Forfeit: See return’d

  The perjur’d Knight, his Oath and Honour scorn’d.

  For this is he, who, with a borrow’d Name 280

  And profer’d Service, to thy Palace came,

  Now call’d Philostratus: retain’d by thee,

  A Traytor trusted, and in high Degree,

  Aspiring to the Bed of beauteous Emily.

  My Part remains, from Thebes my Birth I own, 285

  And call myself th’ unhappy Palamon.

  Think me not like that Man; since no Disgrace

  Can force me to renounce the Honour of my Race.

  Know me for what I am: I broke thy Chain,

  Nor promis’d I thy Pris’ner to remain: 290

  The Love of Liberty with Life is giv’n,

  And Life it self th’ inferiour Gift of Heaven.

  Thus without Crime I fled; but farther know,

  I with this Arcite am thy mortal Foe:

  Then give me Death, since I thy Life pursue; 295

  For Safeguard of thy self, Death is my Due.

  More would’st thou know? I love bright Emily.

  And for her sake and in her Sight will die:

  But kill my Rival too; for he no less

  Deserves; and I thy righteous Doom will bless, 300

  Assur’d that what I lose, he never shall possess.

  To this reply’d the stern Athenian Prince,

  And sow’rly smild, In owning your Offence

  You judge your self, and I but keep record

  In place of Law, while you pronounce the Word. 305

  Take your Desert, the Death you have decreed;

  I seal your Doom, and ratifie the Deed.

  By Mars, the Patron of my Arms, you die.

  He said; dumb Sorrow seiz’d the Standers by.

  The Queen, above the rest, by Nature Good, 310

  (The Pattern form’d of perfect Womanhood)

  For tender Pity wept: When she began,

  Through the bright Quire th’ infectious Vertue ran.

  All dropt their Tears, ev’n the contended Maid;

  And thus among themselves they softly said: 315

  What Eyes can suffer this unworthy Sight!

  Two Youths of Royal Blood, renown’d in Fight,

  The Mastership of Heav’n in Face and Mind,

  And Lovers, far beyond their faithless Kind:

  See their wide streaming Wounds; they neither came 320

  From Pride of Empire, nor desire of Fame:

  Kings fight for Kingdoms, Madmen for Applause;

  But Love for Love alone; that crowns the Lover’s Cause.

  This Thought, which ever bribes the beauteous Kind,

  Such Pity wrought in ev’ry Ladies Mind, 325

  They left their Steeds, and prostrate on the Place,

  From the fierce King, implor’d th’ Offenders Grace.

  He paus’d a while, stood silent in his Mood,

  (For yet his Rage was boiling in his Blood)

  But soon his tender Mind th’ Impression felt. 330

  (As softest Metals are not slow to melt

  And Pity soonest runs in gentle Minds:)

  Then reasons with himself; and first he finds

  His Passion cast a Mist before his Sense,

  And either made, or magnifi’d th’ Offence. 335

  Offence! of what? to whom? Who judg’d the Cause?

  The Pris’ner freed himself by Natures Laws;

  Born free, he sought his Right: The Man he freed

  Was perjur’d, but his Love excus’d the Deed:

  Thus pond’ring, he look’d under with his Eyes, 340

  And saw the Womens Tears, and heard their Cries;

  Which mov’d Compassion more: He shook his Head,

  And softly sighing to himself, he said,

  Curse on th’ unpard’ning Prince, whom Tears can draw

  To no Remorse; who rules by Lions Law; 345

  And deaf to Pray’rs, by no Submission bow’d,

  Rends all alike; the Penitent, and Proud:

  At this with look serene he rais’d his Head;

  Reason resum’d her Place, and Passion fled:

  Then thus aloud he spoke: The Pow’r of Love, 350

  In Earth, and Seas, and Air, and Heav’n above,

  Rules, unresisted, with an awful Nod;

  By daily Miracles declar’d a God:

  He blinds the Wise, gives Eye-sight to the Blind;

  And moulds and stamps anew the Lover’s Mind. 355

  Behold that Arcite, and this Palamon,

  Freed from my Fetters, and in Safety gone,

  What hinder’d either in their Native Soil

  At ease to reap the Harvest of their Toil?

  But Love, their
Lord, did otherwise ordain, 360

  And brought ‘em, in their own Despite again,

  To suffer Death deserv’d; for well they know

  ’Tis in my Pow’r, and I their deadly Foe.

  The Proverb holds, That to be wise and love,

  Is hardly granted to the Gods above. 365

  See how the Madmen bleed: Behold the Gains

  With which their Master, Love, rewards their Pains:

  For sev’n long Years, on Duty ev’ry Day,

  Lo their Obedience, and their Monarch’s Pay:

  Yet, as in Duty bound, they serve him on, 370

  And ask the Fools, they think it wisely done:

  Nor Ease nor Wealth nor Life it self regard,

  For ’tis their Maxim, Love is Love’s Reward.

  This is not all; the Fair, for whom they strove

  Nor knew before, nor could suspect their Love, 375

  Nor thought, when she beheld the Fight from far,

  Her Beauty was th’ Occasion of the War.

  But sure a gen’ral Doom on Man is past,

  And all are Fools and Lovers, first or last:

  This both by others and my self I know, 380

  For I have serv’d their Sovereign, long ago;

  Oft have been caught within the winding Train

  Of Female Snares, and felt the Lover’s Pain,

  And learn’d how far the God can Humane Hearts constrain.

  To this Remembrance, and the Pray’rs of those 385

  Who for th’ offending Warriors interpose,

  I give their forfeit Lives; on this accord,

  To do me Homage as their Sov’reign Lord;

  And as my Vassals, to their utmost Might,

  Assist my Person, and assert my Right. 390

  This freely sworn, the Knights their Grace obtain’d;

  Then thus the King his secret Thoughts explain’d:

  If Wealth, or Honour, or a Royal Race,

  Or each, or all, may win a Ladies Grace,

  Then either of you Knights may well deserve 395

  A Princess born; and such is she you serve:

  For Emily is Sister to the Crown,

  And but too well to both her Beauty known:

  But shou’d you combat till you both were dead,

  Two Lovers cannot share a single Bed: 400

  As, therefore, both are equal in Degree,

  The Lot of both be left to Destiny.

  Now hear th’ Award, and happy may it prove

  To her, and him who best deserves her Love.

  Depart from hence in peace, and free as Air, 405

  Search the wide World, and where you please repair;

  But on the Day when this returning Sun

  To the same Point through ev’ry sign has run,

  Then each of you his Hundred Knights shall bring

  In Royal Lists, to fight before the King; 410

  And then, the Knight, whom Fate or happy Chance

  Shall with his Friends to Victory advance,

  And grace his Arms so far in equal Fight,

  From out the Bars to force his Opposite,

  Or kill, or make him Recreant on the Plain, 415

  The Prize of Valour and of Love shall gain;

  The vanquish’d Party shall their Claim release,

  And the long Jars conclude in lasting Peace.

  The Charge be mine t’ adorn the chosen Ground,

  The Theatre of War, for Champions so renown’d; 420

  And take the Patrons Place of either Knight,

  With Eyes impartial to behold the Fight;

  And Heav’n of me so judge, as I shall judge aright.

  If both are satisfi’d with this Accord,

  Swear by the Laws of Knighthood on my Sword. 425

  Who now but Palamon exults with joy?

  And ravish’d Arcite seems to touch the Sky:

  The whole assembl’d Troop was pleas’d as well,

  Extol’d the Award, and on their Knees they fell

  To bless the gracious King. The Knights with Leave 430

  Departing from the Place, his last Commands receive;

  On Emily with equal Ardour look,

  And from her Eyes their Inspiration took:

  From thence to Thebes old Walls pursue their Way,

  Each to provide his Champions for the Day. 435

  It might be deem’d, on our Historian’s Part,

  Or too much Negligence, or Want of Art,

  If he forgot the vast Magnificence

  Of Royal Theseus, and his large Expence.

  He first enclos’d for Lists a level Ground, 440

  The whole Circumference a Mile around:

  The Form was Circular; and all without

  A Trench was sunk, to Moat the Place about.

  Within, an Amphitheatre appear’d,

  Rais’d in Degrees; to sixty Paces rear’d: 445

  That when a Man was plac’d in one Degree,

  Height was allow’d for him above to see.

  Eastward was built a Gate of Marble white;

  The like adorn’d the Western opposite.

  A nobler Object than this Fabrick was, 450

  Rome never saw; nor of so vast a Space.

  For, rich with Spoils of many a conquer’d Land,

  All Arts and Artists Theseus could command;

  Who sold for Hire, or wrought for better Fame:

  The Master-Painters, and the Carvers came. 455

  So rose within the Compass of the Year

  An Ages Work, a glorious Theatre.

  Then, o’er its Eastern Gate was rais’d above

  A Temple, sacred to the Queen of Love;

  An Altar stood below: On either Hand 460

  A Priest with Roses crown’d, who held a Myrtle Wand.

  The Dome of Mars was on the Gate oppos’d,

  And on the North a Turret was enclos’d,

  Within the Wall, of Alabaster white,

  And crimson Coral, for the Queen of Night, 465

  Who takes in Sylvan Sports her chaste Delight.

  Within these Oratories might you see

  Rich Carvings, Pourtraitures, and Imagery:

  Where ev’ry Figure to the Life express’d

  The Godhead’s Pow’r to whom it was address’d. 470

  In Venus Temple on the Sides were seen

  The broken Slumbers of inamour’d Men;

  Pray’rs that ev’n spoke and Pity seemed to call,

  And issuing Sighs that smoak’d along the Wall;

  Complaints and hot Desires, the Lover’s Hell, 475

  And scalding Tears, that wore a Channel where they fell;

  And all around were Nuptial Bonds, the Ties

  Of Loves Assurance, and a Train of Lies,

  That, made in Lust, conclude in Perjuries.

  Beauty, and Youth, and Wealth, and Luxury, 480

  And spritely Hope, and short-enduring Joy;

  And Sorceries, to raise th’ Infernal Pow’rs,

  And Sigils fram’d in Planetary Hours;

  Expense, and After-thought, and idle Care,

  And Doubts of motley Hue, and dark Despair; 485

  Suspicions, and Fantastical Surmise,

  And Jealousie suffus’d, with Jaundice in her Eyes;

  Discolouring all she view’d, in Tawney dress’d;

  Down-look’d, and with a Cuckow on her Fist.

  Oppos’d to her, on t’ other side advance 490

  The costly Feast, the Carol, and the Dance,

  Minstrels, and Musick, Poetry, and Play,

  And Balls by night, and Turnaments by Day.

  All these were painted on the Wall, and more;

  With Acts, and Monuments of Times before; 495

  And others added by Prophetick Doom,

  And Lovers yet unborn, and Loves to come:

  For there th’ Idalian mount, and Citheron,

  The Court of Venus, was in Colours drawn:

  Before the Palace-gate, in careless
Dress, 500

  And loose Array, sat Portress Idleness;

  There, by the Fount, Narcissus pin’d alone;

  There Samson was; with wiser Solomon,

  And all the mighty Names by Love undone:

  Medea’s Charms were there; Circean Feasts, 505

  With Bowls that turn’d inamoured Youth to Beasts.

  Here might be seen, that Beauty, Wealth, and Wit,

  And Prowess, to the Pow’r of Love submit;

  The spreading Snare for all Mankind is laid;

  And Lovers all betray, and are betray’d. 510

  The Goddess self, some noble Hand had wrought;

  Smiling she seem’d, and full of pleasing Thought:

  From Ocean as she first began to rise,

  And smooth’d the ruffl’d Seas, and clear’d the Skies;

  She trode the Brine, all bare below the Breast, 515

  And the green Waves but ill conceal’d the Rest;

  A Lute she held; and on her Head was seen

  A Wreath of Roses red and Myrtles green;

  Her Turtles fann’d the buxom Air above;

  And, by his Mother, stood an Infant-Love: 520

  With Wings unfledg’d; his Eyes were banded o’er;

  His Hands a Bow, his Back a Quiver bore,

  Supply’d with Arrows bright and keen, a deadly Store.

  But in the Dome of mighty Mars the Red

  With diff’rent Figures all the Sides were spread: 525

  This Temple, less in Form, with equal Grace

  Was imitative of the first in Thrace:

  For that cold Region was the lov’d Abode,

  And Sovereign Mansion of the Warriour-God.

  The Landscape was a Forest wide and bare; 530

  Where neither Beast nor Humane Kind repair;

  The Fowl, that scent afar, the Borders fly,

  And shun the bitter Blast, and wheel about the Sky.

  A Cake of Scurf lies baking on the Ground,

  And prickly Stubs, instead of Trees, are found; 535

  Or Woods with Knots, and Knares deform’d and old,

  Headless the most, and hideous to behold:

  A ratling Tempest through the Branches went,

  That stripp’d ‘em bare, and one sole way they bent.

  Heav’n froze above, severe, the Clouds congeal, 540

  And through the Crystal Vault appear’d the standing Hail.

  Such was the Face without, a Mountain stood

  Threatning from high, and overlook’d the Wood:

  Beneath the lowring Brow, and on a Bent,

  The Temple stood of Mars Armipotent; 545

  The Frame of burnish’d Steel, that cast a glare

  From far, and seem’d to thaw the freezing Air.

  A streight, long Entry to the Temple led,

  Blind with high Walls; and Horrour over Head:

  Thence issu’d such a Blast, and hollow Rore, 550