Gondibert: An Heroick Poem/Canto 14

by William Davenant

CANTO the Eighth.

The Argument.
Birtha her first unpractis'd Love bewails,
Whilst Gondibert on Astragon prevails,
By shewing, high Ambition is of use,
And Glory in the Good needs no excuse.
Goltho a grief to Ulfinore reveals,
Whilst he a greater of his own conceals.

1.
BIrtha her griefs to her Apartment brought,
 Where all her Maids to Heav'n were us'd to raise
Their voices, whilst their busie Fingers wrought
 To deck the Altar of the House of Praise.

2.
But now she finds their Musick turn'd to care;
 Their looks allay'd, like beautie over-worn;
Silent and sad as with ring Fav'rites are,
 Who for their sick indulgent Monarch mourn.

3.
Thula (the eldest of this silenc'd Quire)
 When Birtha at this change astonish'd was,
With hastie whisper, begg'd her to retire;
 And on her knees thus tells their sorrows cause.

4.
Forgive me such experience, as too soon,
 Shew'd me unluckie Love; by which I guess
How Maids are by their innocence undone,
 And trace those sorrows that them first oppress.

5.
Forgive such Passion as to Speech perswades,
 And to my Tongue my observation brought;
And then forgive my Tongue, which to your Maids,
 Too rashly carry'd, what Experience taught.

6.
For since I saw this wounded stranger here,
 Your inward musick still untun'd has been;
You, who could need no hope, have learnt to fear,
 And practis'd grief, ere you did know to Sin.

7.
This being Love, to Agatha I told;
 Did on her Tongue, as on still Death relie;
But winged Love, she was too young to hold,
 And, wanton-like, let it to others flie.

8.
Love, who in whisper scap'd, did publick grow;
 Which makes them now their time in silence waste;
Makes their neglected Needles move so slow,
 And through their Eyes, their Hearts dissolve so fast.

9.
For oft, dire tales of Love has fill'd their Heads;
 And while they doubt you in that Tyrant's pow'r,
The Spring (they think) may visit Woods and Meads,
 But scarce shall hear a Bird, or see a Flow'r.

10.
Ah how (said Birtha) shall I dare confess
 My griefs to thee, Love's rash, impatient Spie;
Thou (Thula) who didst run to tell thy guess,
 With secrets known, wilt to confession flie.

11.
But if I love this Prince, and have in Heav'n
 Made any Friends by vows, you need not fear
He will make good the feature, Heav'n has given,
 And be as harmless as his looks appear.

12.
Yet I have heard, that Men whom Maids think kind,
 Calm, as forgiven Saints, at their last Hour,
Oft prove like Seas, inrag'd by ev'ry wind,
 And all who to their Bosoms trust, devour.

26.
Howere Heav'n knows, (the witness of the Mind)
 My heart bears Men no malice, nor esteems
Young Princes of the common cruel kind,
 Nor Love so foul as it in Story seems.

27.
Yet if this Prince brought Love, what ere it be,
 I must suspect, though I accuse it not;
For since he came, my medc'nal Huswiferie,
 Confections, and my Stils, are all forgot.

28.
Blossoms in winds, Berries in Frosts may fall!
 And Flow'rs sink down in Rain! For I no more
Shall Maids to woods, for early gath'rings call,
 Nor haste to Gardens to prevent a showre.

29.
This said, retires; and now a lovely shame
 That she reveal'd so much, possess'd her Cheeks;
In a dark Lanthorn she would bear Love's flame,
 To hide her self, whilst she her Lover seeks.

30.
And to that Lover let our Song return:
 Whose Tale so well was to her Father told,
As the Philosopher did seem to mourn
 That Youth had reach'd such worth, and he so old.

31.
Yet Birtha was so precious in his Eyes,
 Her vanish'd Mother still so near his mind,
That farther yet he thus his prudence tries,
 Ere such a Pledge he to his trust resign'd.

32.
Who ere (said he) in thy first story looks,
 Shall praise thy wise conversing with the Dead;
For with the Dead he lives, who is with Books,
 And in the Camp (Death's moving Palace) bred.

20.
Wise Youth, in books and battels early finds
 What thoughtless lazy Men perceive too late;
Books shew the utmost conquests of our Minds;
 Battels, the best of our lov'd Bodies fate.

21.
Yet this great breeding, joyn'd with Kings high blood
 (Whose blood Ambition's feaver over-heats)
May spoil digestion, which would else be good,
 As stomachs are deprav'd with highest Meats.

22.
For though Books serve as Diet of the Mind,
 If knowledge, early got, self-value breeds,
By false digestion it is turn'd to wind;
 And what should nourish, on the Eater feeds.

23.
Though Wars great shape best educates the sight,
 And makes small soft'ning objects less our care;
Yet War, when urg'd for glory, more than right,
 Shews Victors but authentick Murd'rers are.

24.
And I may fear that your last victories,
 Where Glory's Toyls, and you will ill abide
(Since with new Trophies still you fed your Eyes)
 Those little objects which in Shades we hide.

25.
Could you in Fortunes smiles, foretel her frowns,
 Our old Foes slain, you would not hunt for new;
But Victors, after wreaths, pretend at Crowns,
 And such think Rhodalind their Valour's due.

26.
To this the gentle Gondibert replies;
 Think not Ambition can my duty sway,
I look on Rhodalind with Subjects Eyes,
 Whom he that conquers, must in right obay.

27.
And though I humanely have heretofore
 All beauty lik'd, I never lov'd till now;
Nor think a Crown can raise his value more,
 To whom already Heav'n does Love allow.

28.
Though, since I gave the Hunns their last defeat,
 I have the Lombards Ensigns outward led,
Ambition kindled not this Victors heat,
 But 'tis a warmth my Fathers prudence bred.

29.
Who cast on more than Wolvish Man his Eye,
 Man's necessary hunger judg'd, and saw
That caus'd not his devouring Maladie;
 But like a wanton whelp he loves to gnaw.

30.
Man still is sick for pow'r, yet that disease
 Nature (whose Law is Temp'rance) ne'r inspires;
But 'tis a humour, does his Manship please,
 A luxury, fruition onely tires.

31.
And as in persons, so in publick States,
 The lust of Pow'r provokes to cruel war;
For wisest Senates it intoxicates,
 And makes them vain, as single persons are.

32.
Men into Nations it did first divide;
 Whilst place, scarce distant, gives them diff'rent stiles;
Rivers, whose breadth Inhabitants may stride,
 Parts them as much as Continents, and Isles.

33.
On equal, smooth, and undistinguish'd Ground,
 The lust of pow'r does liberty impair,
And limits by a border and a bound,
 What was before as passable as Air.

34.
Whilst change of Languages oft breeds a war,
 (A change which Fashion does as oft obtrude
As womens dress) and oft Complexions are,
 And diff'rent names, no less a cause of feud.

35.
Since Men so causelesly themselves devour,
 (And hast'ning still, their else too hasty Fates,
Act but continu'd Massacres for pow'r,)
 My Father meant to chastise Kings, and States.

36.
To overcome the world, till but one Crown
 And universal Neighbourhood he saw;
Till all were rich by that alliance grown,
 And want no more should be the cause of Law.

37.
One family the world was first design'd,
 And though some fighting Kings so sever'd are,
That they must meet by help of Seas and wind,
 Yet when they fight, 'tis but a civil war.

38.
Nor could Religions heat, if one rul'd all,
 To bloody war the unconcern'd allure;
And hasten us from Earth, ere Age does call,
 Who are (alas) of Heav'n so little sure.

39.
Religion, ne'r till divers Monarchies,
 Taught that almighty Heav'n needs Armies aid;
But with contentious Kings she now complies,
 Who seem for their own cause, of God's afraid.

40.
To joyn all sever'd Pow'rs (which is to end
 The cause of War) my Father onward fought;
By war the Lombard Scepter to extend
 Till peace were forc'd, where it was slowly sought.

41.
He lost in this attempt his last dear blood;
 And I (whom no remoteness can deterre,
If what seems difficult, be great and good)
 Thought his Example could not make me erre.

42.
No place I merit in the Book of Fame!
 Whose leaves are by the Greeks and Romans fill'd;
Yet I presume to boast, she knows my name,
 And she has heard to whom the Hunns did yield.

43.
But let not what so needfully was done,
 Though still pursu'd, make you ambition fear;
For could I force all Monarchies to one,
 That Universal Crown I would not wear.

44.
He who does blindly soar at Rhodalind,
 Mounts like seel'd Doves, still higher from his ease;
And in the lust of Empire he may find,
 High Hope does better than Fruition please.

45.
The Victor's solid recompence is rest;
 And 'tis unjust, that Chiefs who pleasure shun,
Toyling in Youth, should be in Age opprest
 With greater Toyls, by ruling what they won.

46.
Here all reward of conquest I would find,
 Leave shining Thrones for Birtha in a shade,
With Nature's quiet wonders fill my mind;
 And praise her most, because she Birtha made.

47.
Now Astragon (with joy suffic'd) perceiv'd
 How nobly Heav'n for Birtha did provide;
Oft had he for her vanish'd Mother griev'd,
 But can this joy, less than that sorrow hide.

48.
With tears, bids Gondibert to Heav'ns Eye make
 All good within, as to the World he seems;
And in gain'd Birtha then from Hymen take
 All youth can wish, and all his age esteems.

49.
Straight to his lov'd Philosophers he hies,
 Who now at Nature's Counsel busie are
To trace new Lights, which some old Gazer spies,
 Whilst the Duke seeks more busily his Star.

50.
But in her search, he is by Goltho stay'd,
 Who in a closs dark Covert folds his Arms;
His Eyes with thought grow darker than that shade,
 Such thought as brow and breast with study warms.

51.
Fix'd to unheeded object is his Eye
 His sences he calls in, as if t'improve
By outward absence inward extasie,
 Such as makes Prophets, or is made by Love.

52.
Awake (said Gondibert) for now in vain
 Thou dream'st of sov'reignty and War's success;
Hope, nought has left, which Worth should wish to gain;
 And all Ambition is but Hope's excess.

53.
Bid all our Worthies to unarm, and rest!
 For they have nought to conquer worth their care;
I have a Father's right in Birtha's breast,
 And that's the peace for which the wise make war.

54.
At this starts Goltho, like some Armie's Chief,
 Whom unintrench'd, a midnight Larum wakes,
By pawse then gave disorder'd sence relief,
 And this reply with kindled passion makes:

55.
What means my Prince to learn so low a boast,
 Whose merit may aspire to Rhodalind?
For who could Birtha miss if she were lost,
 That shall by worth the others treasure find?

56.
When your high blood, and conquests shall submit
 To such mean joys, in this unminded shade,
Let Courts, without Heav'ns Lamps, in darkness sit,
 And war become the lowly Shepheard's Trade.

57.
Birtha, (a harmless Cottage Ornament!)
 May be his Bride, that's born himself to serve;
But you must pay that blood your Army spent,
 And wed that Empire which our wounds deserve.

58.
This brought the Dukes swift anger to his Eyes;
 Which his consid'rate Heart rebuk'd as fast;
He Goltho chid, in that he nought replies;
 Leaves him, and Birtha seeks with Lovers haste.

59.
Now Goltho mourns, yet not that Birtha's fair;
 Or that the Duke shuns Empire for a Bride,
But that himself must joyn love to despair;
 Himself who loves her, and his love must hide.

60.
He curs'd that him the wounded hither brought
 From Oswald's field; where though he wounds did scape
In tempting Death, and here no danger sought,
 Yet here met worse than Death in Beauty's shape.

61.
He was unus'd to love, as bred in wars,
 And not till now for beauty leasure had;
Yet bore Love's load, as Youth bears other Cares;
 Till now despair makes Love's old weight too sad.

62.
But Ulfinore, does hither aptly come,
 His second breast, in whom his griefs excess
He may ebb out, when they ore-flow at home;
 Such griefs, as thus in Throngs for utt'rance press.

63.
Forgive me that so falsly am thy Friend!
 No more our Hearts for kindness shall contest;
Since mine I hourly on another spend,
 And now imbrace thee with an empty brest.

64.
Yet pard'ning me, you cancel Nature's fault;
 Who walks with her first force in Birtha's shape,
And when she spreads the Net to have us caught,
 It were in youth presumption to escape.

65.
When Birtha's grief so comly did appear,
 Whilst she beheld our wounded Duke's distress;
Then first my alter'd Heart began to fear,
 Lest too much Love should friendship dispossess;

66.
But this whilst Ulfinore with sorrow hears,
 Him Goltho's busier sorrow little heeds;
And though he could reply in sighs and tears,
 Yet governs both, and Goltho thus proceeds.

67.
To Love's new dangers I have gone unarm'd;
 I lack'd experience why to be afraid,
Was too unlearn'd to read whom Love had harm'd,
 But have his will as Nature's law obay'd.

68.
Th'obedient and defenceless, sure; no law
 Afflicts, for law is their defence, and pow'r;
Yet me, Loves sheep, whom rigour needs not aw,
 Wolf-Love, because defenceless, does devour:

69.
Gives me not time to perish by degrees,
 But with despair does me at once destroy;
For none who Gondibert a Lover sees,
 Thinks he would love, but where he may enjoy.

70.
Birtha he loves; and I from Birtha fear
 Death that in rougher Figure I despise!
This Ulfinore did with distemper hear,
 Yet with dissembled temp'rance thus replies:

71.
Ah Goltho! who Love's Feaver can asswage?
 For though familiar seems that old disease;
Yet like Religion's fit, when Peoples rage,
 Few cure those evils which the Patient please.

72.
Natures Religion, Love, is still perverse;
 And no commerce with cold discretion hath,
For if Discretion speak when Love is fierce,
 'Tis wav'd by Love, as Reason is by Faith.

73.
As Gondibert left Goltho when he heard
 His Saint profan'd, as if some Plague were nigh;
So Goltho now leaves Ulfinore, and fear'd
 To share such veng'ance, if he did not flie.

74.
How each at home ore-rates his miserie,
 And thinks that all are musical abroad,
Unfetter'd as the Winds, whilst onely he
 Of all the glad and licenc'd world is aw'd?

75.
And as Cag'd Birds are by the Fowler set
 To call in more, whilst those that taken be,
May think (though they are Pris'ners in the Net)
 Th'incag'd, because they ne'r complain, are free.

76.
So Goltho (who by Ulfinore was brought
 Here where he first Love's dangers did perceive
In Beautie's Field) thinks though himself was caught,
 Th' inviter safe, because not heard to grieve.

77.
But Ulfinore (whom neighbourhood led here)
 Impressions took before from Birtha's sight;
Ideas, which in silence hidden were,
 As Heav'n's designs before the birth of Light.

78.
This from his Father Ulfin he did hide,
 Who, strict to Youth, would not permit the best
Reward of worth, the Bosom of a Bride,
 Should be but after Virtuous toils possest.

79.
For Ulfinore (in blooming honour yet)
 Though he had learnt the count'nance of the Foe,
And though his courage could dull Armies whet,
 The care ore Crouds, nor Conduct could not know;

80.
Nor varie Battels shapes in the Foes view;
 But now in forreign Fields means to improve
His early Arts, to what his Father knew,
 That merit so might get him leave to love.

81.
Till then, check'd passion, shall not venture forth:
 And now retires with a disorder'd Heart;
Griev'd, lest his Rival should by early'r worth
 Get Love's reward, ere he can gain desert.

82.
But stop we here, like those who day-light lack;
 Or as misguided Travellers that rove,
Oft find their way by going somewhat back;
 So let's return, thou ill Conductour Love.

83.
Thy little Grecian Godhead as my Guide
 I have attended many a Winter night;
To seek whom Time for honour's sake would hide,
 Since in mine age sought by a wasted light:

84.
But ere my remnant of Life's Lamp be spent,
 Whilst I in Lab'rinths stray amongst the Dead;
I mean to recollect the paths I went,
 And judge from thence the steps I am to tread.

85.
Thy walk (though as a common Deitie
 The Croud does follow thee) misterious grows:
For Rhodalind may now closs Mourner die,
 Since Gondibert, too late, her sorrow knows.

86.
Young Hurgonil above dear light prefers
 Calm Orna, who his highest Love out-loves;
Yet envious Clouds in Lombard Registers
 Orecast their Morn, what ere their Evening proves.

87.
For fatal Laura trustie Tybalt pines;
 For haughtie Gartha, subtle Hermegild;
Whilst she her beautie, youth, and birth declines;
 And as to Fate, does to Ambition yield.

88.
Great Gondibert, to bashfull Birtha bends;
 Whom she adores like Virtue in a Throne;
Whilst Ulfinore, and Goltho (late vow'd Friends
 By him) are now his Rivals, and their own.

89.
Through ways thus intricate to Lovers Urns,
 Thou lead'st me, Love, to shew thy Trophies past;
Where time (less cruel than thy Godhead) mourns
 In ruins, which thy pride would have to last.

90.
Where I on Lombard Monuments have read
 Old Lovers names, and their fam'd Ashes spy'd;
But less can learn by knowing they are dead,
 And such their Tombes; than how they liv'd and dy'd.

91.
To Paphos flie! and leave me sullen here!
 This Lamp shall light me to Records, which give
To future Youth, so just a cause of fear,
 That it will Valour seem to dare to live.

 

The End of the Second Book.

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