Part I

Fortunes of Kings, enamour'd Princes' loves,
Who erst from Royal ancestors did spring,
Is the high subject that incites and moves
My lowly voice in lofty notes to sing
Of Leoline, son to a mighty King,
And of a Princess, Sydanis the fair,
Who were the world's incomparable pair.

You learned Sisters of the Thespian well,
That sweetly sing to young Apollo's lyre,
That on Parnassus' forked top do dwell,
And Poets with prophetic rage inspire ;
Accept my humble Muse into your Quire,
My labouring breast with noble raptures fill,
And on my lines Castalian drops distill.

Your aid I need in this great enterprise,
Be you my guides, and give direction.
For all too weak are my abilities
To bring this Poem to perfection ;
Let each Muse of her part then make election,
And while of Love Clio sings loud and clear,
Melpomene the tragic base must bear.

And be not absent thou, all-puissant Love,
Thy favour I implore above the rest,
Thou wilt my best enthusiasms prove,
If with thy flames thou warm my trembling breast ;
And though among thy servants I am least.
Yet thy high raptures may sublime my fame.
And blow my spark up to a glorious flame.

For without thee impossible it is.
Of lovers' joys, or passions to endite :
He needs of feats of arms must speak amiss,
That ne'er saw battle, nor knew how to fight.
Then how may I of lovers say aright,
Or feelingly discourse of them, unless
Myself had known some joy, and some distress.

Therefore since I for each true lover's sake,
And for the advancement of true love's affairs,
Am ready prest this task to undertake ;
Assist me, all Love's servants, with your prayers,
That neither cold old age, with snowy hairs,
May cool or quench that pure aethereal fire.
With which youth's heat did once my soul inspire.

And since, for every purpose under Sun,
There is a time and opportunity,
Pray that this work of mine may be begun
When as there be aspects of unity
'Twixt Mars and Venus, and a clear immunity
From frosty Saturn's dismal dire aspect,
And every Planet in his course direct.

When Mercury, Lord of the hour and day,
Shall in his house diurnal potent be,
Not slow, nor yet combust : then also pray
He may be in a fortunate degree,
And in no dark void Azimen, that he.
Conjoined with Sol, in the tenth house, may thence
Infuse invention, wit and eloquence.

That so each love-sick heart, and amorous mind,
That shall this Romance read, remarking it.
May remedy, or some such passage find
As him, or her, in the right vein may hit.
And now having thus pray'd, I think it fit.
That you no longer should the story miss,
Of Leoline and beauteous Sydanis.

Before proud Rome's victorious legions knew
The Britains, by blue Neptune's arm divided
From the whole world, before they did subdue
The Island Albion, when as Consuls guided
Their Commonwealth, by whom it was decided
What tribute was impos'd on every State,
Tradition and old Annals thus relate.

On the Virgivian Ocean's foaming shore,
Down at the mountain Snowdon's rocky foot,
Whose cloud-bound head with mists is ever hoar,
So high, the sight can scarcely reach unto't,
Against whose brows the forked lightning shoot,
A stately Castle stood, whilome the seat
Of th'old Britains' King, Arvon the great.

This King upon Beumaris, his fair Queen,
Begot a Prince, whose name was Leoline,
In whom so many graceful parts were seen,
As if the Heavens and Nature did combine
To make a face and personage divine.
For Jove and Venus I imagine were
Conjoined in his horoscope yfere.

By whose benign and powerful influence.
Which governs our affections here below,
And in Love's actions hath pre-eminence.
Prince Leoline incited was to go
(His Fortune and the gods would have it so)
To a fair city, in those days much fam'd,
Which from Duke Leon, Carleon was nam'd.

This city was not only celebrated
For riches brought by sea from all the West,
But for a Temple (as shall be related)
To Venus, unto whom a solemn feast
Was yearly made, to which the worthiest best
Of Knights and Ladies came, and who did come,
If not before, from it went Lovers home.

And so unto this Prince it did befall,
Who viewing of those Ladies did repair
As votaries to this great festival ;
He was aware of Sydanis the fair,
Duke Leon's only daughter, and his heir,
Who off'ring sacrifice at Venus' shrine,
Did seem the goddess to Prince Leoline.

More lovely fair she was than can be told,
So glorious and resplendent her array.
Her tresses flow'd like waves of liquid gold,
Burnisht by rising Titan's morning ray,
From her eyes broke the early dawning day :
A coral portal plac'd above her chin,
Inclos'd a bed of orient pearl within.

A carquenet her neck encircled round
Of ballast rubies, cut in form of hearts,
Which were with true-love knots together bound,
Of gold enamel'd, pierct with Cupid's darts.
From which small pendants by the workman's arts
Were made, which on her naked skin did show
Like drops of blood new fallen upon the snow.

More of her beauties will I not relate,
Of which the young Prince was enamoured.
It was the Gods' decree, and will of Fate,
Prince Leoline fair Sydanis should wed,
And both be joined in one nuptial bed :
Nor speak I of their marriage royalties.
Which were as great as man's wit could devise.

The tiltings, jousts, and tournaments by day.
The masques and revels on the wedding night.
The songs to which prophetic Bards did play.
With many other objects of delight,
(All which this History embellish might,)
I will omit, since eachwhere of that kind
You may in books frequent descriptions find.

For in this match the Fates seem'd to portend
Millions of joys, myriads of happy hours.
That on their heads and beds there might descend
All blessings that come down from heavenly powers,
No Star malignant on their nuptials lowers.
For Hymen all his virgin torches lighted.
When first these princely lovers' troths were plighted.

But O false world ! O wretched state unstable
Of mortal men ! O frail condition !
O bliss more vain than any dream, or fable !
O brittle joy, even lost in the fruition !
O doubtful truth ! O certain true suspicion !
O bitter-sweetest love, that let'st us know.
That first or last thou never wantest woe !

For if there be no lets in the obtaining
Of a man's honour'd mistress, and her love,
Yet still there are crosses enough remaining,
Which neither force nor foresight can remove,
That to his joys a sad allay will prove,
And make him know it is a truth confest,
That no one thing on every side is blest.

But to the matter shortly now to go,
That day the Prince did wed his beauteous bride,
As then the custom was, he did bestow
Rich scarfs, and points, and many things beside,
Which in fine curious knots were knit and tied ;
And as his royal favours, worn by those
Whom he to grace his princely nuptials chose.

Favours are oft, unhappily, by chance
Bestow'd : for 'mongst those courtiers that did wear
The Prince's points, a Marquess was of France,
Who for some heinous fact he had done there,
Hang'd in effigie, fled from France for fear,
And so for refuge to Carleon came.
Monsieur Marquis Jean Foutre was his name.

Who though he had a farinee face.
Thereto a bedstaff leg, and a splay foot,
By angry nature made in man's disgrace,
Which no long slop, nor any ruffled boot
Could mend, or hide, for why, they could not do't.
Though his mouth were a wide world without end,
His shape so ugly, as no art could mend —

Although his weatherwise autumnal joints,
As if they wanted Nature's ligaments.
Did hang together, as if tied by points.
Though most deformed were his lineaments ;
Yet fouler was his mind, and base intents,
His matchless impudence, which appear'd in this,
That he made love to beauteous Sydanis.

So by the canker-worm the fragrant rose
Is tainted : so the serene wholesome air
By black contagion, pestilential grows.
As she by this base wretch, who thought to impair
The chastity of one so matchless fair;
But his foul base intents being once detected,
Were with all scorn and just disdain rejected.

In dire revenge thereof, that day the bands
Were made between Prince Leoline and his bride;
As the Arch-flamen joined had their hands,
And made them one, which no man ought divide,
Upon the Prince's point this caitiff tied
A magic knot, and muttered a spell,
Which had an energetic force from hell.

For by it was he maleficiated.
And quite depriv'd of all ability
To use a woman, as shall be related,
For Nature felt an imbecility,
Extinguishing in him virility :
The sad events whereof to set before ye,
Is as the dire Praeludium to our story.

Now at that instant the Prince felt no change,
When as the charm was spoke, nor alteration
Within his mind or body ; for so strange
Was the effect of the said incantation,
As that it wrought in him no perturbation.
But woe is me ! the damned hellish spite
Was first discern'd upon the wedding night.

For then this princely couple being laid
Together in their hymenaeal bed,
And prayers to all the nuptial gods being said,
To Domiduca, that her home had led :
To Virginalis, that her maidenhead
Might without pain be lost, and suddenly,
To Subiga, that she might quiet lie.

And lastly, that Pertunda by her power
The Princess would endue with fruitfulness,
That she would still make fortunate the hour
Of her conception, and her labour bless.
Preventing all abortion, barrenness.
And now, all these devotions being said.
The Bride no longer was to be a Maid.

But though the Prince enjoy'd all sweets of sense,
Her rosy lips, which with sweet dew did melt,
And suckt her breath, sweet as their quintessence,
Which like to aromatic incense smelt.
Though he her dainty virgin beauties felt,
Embracing of soft ivory and warm snow,
Arriv'd at her Hesperides below :

Though Venus in Love's wars hath domination,
Sworn enemy to every maidenhead,
And sovereign of the acts of generation,
Whose skirmishes are fought in the field-bed,
Although her son a troop of Cupids led ;
Yet thus much had the dismal charm effected,
As Venus' standard might not be erected.

For when no dalliance nor provocation
That weak opiniator part could raise ;
Which Fancy and a strong imagination.
Rather than a man's will or reason sways,
Which rebel-like it ever disobeys ;
The Prince's heart with shame and rage was fill'd,
That willingly himself he could have kill'd.

For on a sudden he left off to'embrace
And kiss his lovely, and yet maiden bride ;
And with a sigh he turn'd away his face
From her, and lying on the other side,
Under the sheet his face did eftsoons hide.
At which the princely Lady, much dismay'd,
After a while, with tears thus to him said :

' Dear Lord, if that a maid, whose innocence
Is such and so great, as she doth not know
How to commit a fault, or give offence
Towards you, to whom her best love she doth owe;
Nor yet the cause why you are alter'd so.
That on the sudden thus you do restrain
Your favours, turning love into disdain —

You made me to believe, when you did woo,
That I was fair, and had some loveliness :
But ah, my beauties were too mean for you,
Or your esteem of them, I must confess ;
Yet in a moment they could not grow less.
But woe is me, for now I plainly see.
That the world and my glass have flatter'd me.

For with the pleasures that you have enjoy'd,
As the chaste pledges of my nuptial bed,
Your appetite had not so soon been cloy'd,
Nor you on them so soon had surfeited,
Which have (it seems) a loathing in you bred :
By which I find, that human fond desire
Is like the lightning, at once cloud and fire.

I cannot think, but that I do molest
Your Highness, who are us'd to lie alone,
I must not be the cause of your unrest.
And therefore crave your leave I may be gone,
And leave the bed wholly to be your own :
Only vouchsafe this case unto my sorrow.
That I may sit by you, until to-morrow.

For I will watch, and to the gods will pray.
And to your Angel tutelar, to keep
Your person, and from you to drive away
All thoughts and dreams of me, whenas you sleep.'
And with that word she bitterly did weep:
Who, as she was arising from his side.
Holding her down, thus Leoline replied :

' Most divine Princely Sweetness, do not waste
That precious odoriferous breath of yours
In vain, nor fruitlessly away it cast,
Whose scent excels all essences of flowers :
For could you sin against the heavenly powers,
Or could you do a thing that might displease them,
The incense of your breath would soon appease them.

O be not of a breath then so profuse.
Can purify the air from all infection:
Nor yet profane it so, as to accuse
Yourself, of all rare beauties the perfection ;
Of whom the gods themselves have made election,
To print their forms on, to let mortals see
What their Angel-like shapes and beauties be.

Yet, dearest Lady, do not think it strange,
That though you are a paradise of bliss.
You are the cause of this my sudden change ;
For why, some god of you enamour'd is,
And makes of me a metamorphosis :
For vent'ring to enjoy what is his own,
I find myself already turning stone.

Or you a goddess are, whose Deity
Till now I knew not; as Diana chaste,
Whose sacred heavenly sweets, without impiety,
By no man can be wantonly embrac't ;
And therefore a just punishment is cast
On my presumption, which was so much more,
To touch you, whom I rather should adore.

And therefore by your bed, as by a shrine,
I'll kneel, as penitent for my offence,
In my affecting of a thing divine,
Since you an object are, whose excellence
Is so exalted above human sense,
As like the Sun, it rather doth destroy
Sensation, than permit me to enjoy.

Which though I do not, yet you still shall find,
There is no want of love in me, no more
Than want of beauty in your heavenly mind,
Which I religiously shall still adore :
And though I as a husband lov'd before,
I'll turn Platonic lover, and admire
Your virtue's height, to which none can aspire.'

With sighs, and such-like words, these Princes spent
The wearisome and tedious night away ;
Prince Leoline by this his compliment,
T' excuse his want of manhood did assay :
Thus sorrowing one by the other lay.
Till Lucifer the morning did disclose.
Which when they saw, they from their bed arose,

And drest themselves before that any one
Knew of it, or their rising was descried.
Away went Leoline, and left alone
The comfortless and lovely maiden bride :
Now towards the hour of eight it did betide.
An ancient matron to their chamber came.
The Lady's Nurse, Merioneth was her name.

Who for the bridegroom had a cullis brought.
And of sweet richest Candian wine a quart,
To cheer his spirits up : for why, she thought
Prince Leoline might over-act his part,
In too much using Cupid's wanton dart ;
But seeing the blear eyes of Sydanis,
Her heart misgave her, something was amiss.

And by the Princess, as she trembling stands,
'Madam,' quoth she, 'what causes your unrest,
That you sit weeping thus, wringing your hands?
Doth Hymen thus begin your marriage feast?
Is this the love your bridegroom hath exprest?
To rise so early, leaving you alone.
With tears and sighs his absence to bemoan.'

Hereat the Princess, raining from her eyes
A shower of orient pearl, richer than gold
Jove pour'd on Danae, to her thus replies,
' Dear Nurse ' (quoth she), ' my grief cannot be told,
Words are too weak my sorrows to unfold ;
Nor do I know a reason that might move
My Lord to leave me, unless want of love.

Our feast of love (if any) was soon done ;
So soon all worldly joys away do fleet,
Which oft are ended as soon as begun ;
Each earthly pleasure being a bitter sweet.
Ah, Nurse, my Lord and I must never meet :
Yet pray him that he would not her despise,
Who from his side did a pure virgin rise.'

Hearing these words, Merioneth straight fell down,
Opprest with grief unspeakable, and woe,
For fear she well near fell into a swoune :
For the experienc't matron did well know-
Much mischief would ensue, if it were so,
Or were a truth that Sydanis had said ;
That lying with the Prince, she rose a maid.

For that the ancient Britons then did use,
When any bridegroom did a maiden wed,
(A custom they received from the Jews,)
To bring some linens of the bridal bed,
To witness she had lost her maidenhead,
Without which testimony there was none
Believ'd to be a virgin, although one.

The wedding smock, or linens of the Bride,
The married couple's parents were to see ;
Whereon, if any drops of blood they spied,
Rejoicing, they persuaded were, that she
Had not till then lost her virginity.
If on the linens nothing did appear,
The bride and bridegroom straight divorced were,

And she with shame unto her father sent,
As one, whose chastity had been defil'd.
And of her body was incontinent.
Or else in secret had a bastard child ;
And so for ever was to be exil'd
From all pure virgins' company, whose name
No tongue of slander justly could defame.

Now what to do in this hard doubtful case
The poor perplexed matron did not know ;
To tell the truth, would Leoline disgrace :
And since of force the linen she must show,
If it were best to counterfeit or no,
(To hinder the divorce) a mark or spot.
In sign the Prince her maidenhead had got.

Yet this imposture, if it were disclos'd,
It might beget both danger and disdain :
For why, Merioneth wisely presuppos'd,
Although to others she a thing might feign,
Yet to Prince Leoline it was but vain ;
Who knowing his own frozen impotence,
Would soon suspect the Lady's innocence.

Nor was there hope the thing could be conceal'd,
Since to King Arvon and Duke Leon's eyes
The truth of all things was to be reveal'd,
This being one of the solemnities.
Which show'd how much our ancestors did prize
A virgin's chastity ; which approbation.
What maid declin'd, was lost in reputation.

Yet thus the Nurse resolv'd in this distress,
Since Sydanis for three days was t'abide
Within her chamber's close retiredness.
As was the custom then for every Bride,
Till they were past, nothing should be descried
In the meanwhile it was her resolution,
To try some powerful magical conclusion.

Which was, to give a philtre or love-potion,
That should not only cure frigidity.
But to that secret part give strength and motion,
Imparting heat unto it, and humidity.
Both this and many another quiddity
These credulous old women do believe,
And to effect such purposes do give.

Amongst high horrid rocks, whose rugged brows
Do threaten surly Neptune with their frown,
When he at them his foaming trident throws,
Beating his high-grown surging billows down ;
An aged learned Druid liv'd, far known
For magic's skill, who in a lonely cell
As hermit, or an anchorite did dwell.

Merioneth posting to this Druid's cave.
When of her coming she the cause had told.
The aged sire unto the matron gave
A liquor far more precious than gold.
Of which the secret virtue to unfold.
It would not only cause a strong erection.
But working on the mind, procure affection.

Believing this with joy, she back returns.
And privately to Sydanis she went,
Who in her chamber like a turtle mourns :
She fully told to her all her intent.
And that successful would be the event,
That Leoline those pleasures should enjoy.
The want of which had caused her annoy.

Although affection, which Art doth create.
Is nothing worth, and of true love no part,
But lust, which, satisfied, doth end in hate.
Yet Sydanis to palliate the smart,
Rather than cure the wound of her sad heart,
Since of two evils she the least might choose,
Her Nurse's counsel she will not refuse.

Heaven's glorious lamp of light, that all day burn'd,
Was now extinguisht in the western seas ;
To dens the beasts, to nests the birds return'd.
And night arising from th' Antipodes,
Summon'd men from their labours to take ease.
And drowsy sleep so soon as they repose
With her soft velvet hands their eyes doth close —

Whenas the Prince the second night did lie
By lovely Sydanis as yet a maid,
Again in Venus' wars such force to try.
But when that he with her in bed was laid.
And had (but all in vain) all means essay'd.
Finding that his virility was gone.
He grievously began to sigh and groan.

The Princess hearing, mildly pray'd him tell
His cause of grief, that she might bear her part.
' Madam ' (quoth Leoline), ' I am not well,
I feel a deadly pain about my heart :
Oh might it please the gods, Death's ebon dart
(Ere the approach of the next rising morrow)
Might free me from this world, and you from sorrow.

For while I live you'll be unfortunate.
And in sad discontentment will grow old,
For (oh my stars) such is my wretched fate,
I like a miser keep a heap of gold.
For no use else, but only to behold ;
Possessing an unvalu'd treasure, which
Being put to use, the whole world would enrich.

But now of ladies you most excellent.
Be pleas'd to hear and pardon what I say :
In wars to seek a death is my intent,
For ere the beams of the next morning's ray,
I from your dearest self must part away.
And when that I am dead you shall see clearly.
That (though I leave you) yet I lov'd you dearly.'

What tongue can tell the grief of Sydanis,
When as Prince Leoline without remorse.
Had given her his last sad parting kiss,
And death must them eternally divorce,
So that unless the magic potion's force,
The Prince's resolution did prevent.
She thought nought else could alter his intent.

Therefore with broken sighs and many a tear,
She as the Prince was ready for to rise.
To speak to him once more could not forbear,
Though to her words, grief utterance denies.
She show'ring down a deluge from her eyes
Which down her cheeks in silver rivers ran,
With no less modesty than grief began :

' My Lord ' (quoth she), ' your will is a command.
And shall by me most humbly be obey'd ;
Which, though I could, I ought not to withstand.
But yet be pleas'd to think, that you have laid
Upon the frailty of a silly maid
So insupportable a weight of woe.
As our weak sex it cannot undergo.

Whate'er is writ of Grissel's patience,
Or Roman Martia's, when she lost her son,
(Whose grief was lessened by the eloquence
Of Seneca) by me would be outdone.
Nay, all those ladies that such fame have won
For manly fortitude, I should outvie,
Could I endure my sorrow and not die.

But that 's impossible, it cannot be ;
Since you, who are my soul's soul, who instead
Of longer animating it or me,
Will straight depart, leaving me doubly dead.
You from my soul, it from me being fled :
By which you shall a demonstration see,
Proving a human soul's mortality.

Now when, like dear departing friends, the soul
And body from each other are to part.
The learn'd physician seeming to control
Th' approach of death, some cordial gives by's art.
That for a while revives the dying part :
Here is a drink, which if you please to taste
And drink to me, your pledge shall be my last.'

Prince Leoline, with sighs and sorrow dry,
Only to quench his thirst with it did think :
But having drunk it, he immediately
(Such was the force of the enchanted drink)
As one stark dead into his bed did sink ;
Where senseless without motion he did lie,
As one new fallen into an ecstasy.

Th' amazed Princess thinking he was dead,
Opprest with grief, she suddenly fell dov/n.
The spectacle such horror in her bred,
That with a shriek she fell into a swoune :
Which her Nurse hearing, and the cause unknown,
Unto the Prince's bedside ran in haste.
Being ignorant as yet of what had past :

And finding how these princes speechless lay.
It was no time nor boot for to complain.
To bring them back to life she doth assay,
And first with Sydanis she taketh pain,
Who after much ado reverts again.
Which being done, they both together join
Their labours, to revive Prince Leoline.

But all in vain ; for after that they two,
For his recovery all means had tried,
And finding at the last nothing would do,
They thought it would be death there to abide,
And therefore some disguise they would provide,
That friended by the darkness of the night,
They might the more securely take their flight.

A woman's wit, which in extremities
Is present, and upon the sudden best,
For Sydanis, a proper neat disguise
To her old Nurse's thoughts doth straight suggest,
Who forthwith went and opened a chest.
In an out-room near where the pages lay,
One of whose suits she eftsoons brought away.

In this neat, fit, and handsome page's suit,
No sooner was fair Sydanis array'd,
But as she more advisedly did view 't,
Upon the sudden she was much dismayed,
And of herself began to be afraid,
When on the hose before (a fashion then)
She saw a thing was only worn by men.

A shape undecent made by tailor's art,
Of secrecies, which Nature bids us hide.
Which as a case seem'd of that privy part.
Great Julius Caesar cover'd when he died :
To look upon it she could not abide,
It did so much her modesty perplex.
As now she wish'd to change both clothes and sex.

And needs she would undress herself again,
Of that immodest habit to be rid ;
But her old Nurse her purpose did restrain ;
Besides, the present danger did forbid
That act, since no way else she could be hid :
The doing of it therefore she forbears.
Which vex'd her mind, more than secur'd her fears.

Accoutred thus, and ready to be gone,
The Princess only for her Nurse doth stay :
Who without scruple instantly put on
The clothes Prince Leoline on 's wedding day
Had worn, and drest herself without delay :
Nor were the breech or codpiece to her view
Unpleasing, who so well the linings knew.

And now as they were ready for to go,
The reverend Nurse by reason of her age,
Had counsell'd, and had ordered things so.
She should be Lord, and Sydanis her Page.
Thus like two birds new got out of a cage.
To fly away with all speed they intend,
And to the Druid's cave their course to bend.

Yet before that the woful Sydanis
Could part away, she could it not forbear
On Leoline's cold lips to print a kiss,
And wash his face with many a briny tear:
By all the gods she solemnly did swear,
(For her excuse) she never once did think
That she had given to him a deadly drink,

To clear herself, the poor officious Nurse
Strong argument and many reasons brought.
But what was bad before, is now much worse.
She of the magic potion takes a draught,
Which on her vital powers so strangely wrought,
That all the spirits from her heart were fled,
And she upon the floor fell down as dead.

Th' affrighted Princess, that before might think
Her Lord might on an apoplexy die,
Or some apostume, now is sure, the drink
Was th' only cause of this mortality :
Griev'd for her Nurse's fond credulity.
Who drinking it, had made her griefs far more,
Doubling the sorrows that she had before.

No tongue of rhetorician can express
Her patience, which such mischiefs could abide :
Her perturbations only one may guess
Who in perpetual fear to be descried
Must without any company or guide.
Through solitude and darkness of the night.
Unto a place uncertain take her flight.

But she must go : for fear now bids her fly.
And to the Druid's Cave to post in haste,
And so to put her life in jeopardy,
Rather than to be sure to die at last.
Through desert rocks, and byways having past,
Her Genius not permitting her to stray.
She there arrived ere the break of day.

Ent'ring with trembling feet the horrid cave,
Morrogh the Druid to her did appear,
Like a ghost sitting in a dead man's grave
Or darksome vault : who did no sooner see her,
But beck'ning to the Princess to come near,
The awful silence of his cell he brake,
And in few words to Sydanis thus spake.

' Thou lovely-seeming youth, who in disguise
Art come, and art not what thou seem'st in show,
As if thou couldst deceive my aged eyes,
Who both thee and thy cause of coming know;
Oh let no fond belief delude thee so,
As make thee think thou canst not be descried,
Or that from me thy secrets thou canst hide.

Thou art a hapless lady, lately wed
Unto Prince Leoline, whose wretched state
(Wanting the pleasures of thy marriage bed)
I could relieve, and would commiserate,
Wer't not for the inveterate just hate
I bear King Arvon, who me here confin'd
To live a wretch exil'd from all mankind.

Therefore to be reveng'd upon his son,
For his unjust and cruel father's sake.
Know, Sydanis, that I the deed have done :
I did the deadly poisonous potion make
Which thou didst cause Prince Leoline to take ;
For whose dire murder thou wilt be detected.
Since no one else but thee can be suspected.

Nor is thy nurse, that came unto my cell
(Whose death as well as Leoline's doth grieve thee)
As now alive, the truth of things to tell :
There is but one way left now to relieve thee.
And therefore take the counsel that I give thee,
Fly straight beyond seas, for before sunrise.
Men will be here thy person to surprise.'

The Druid's words, like the death-boding notes
Of the night raven, or the ominous owl,
Sent from their dismal hollow-sounding throats ;
Or like the noise of dogs by night, that howl
At the departing of a sick man's soul :
Such terror into Sydanis did strike.
As never tender lady felt the like.

What she should do, or whither she should go,
The poor distressed Sydanis not knew,
If undescried she could take ship or no,
And thereupon what dangers might ensue;
Therefore with visage deadly pale of hue,
' O Druid, let me die at once,' she says ;
'And not so often, and so many ways.

And here I'll die ; thy cell shall be my grave :
Before thee all my misery shall end.
So as if any come into thy cave
And find me here, they may thee apprehend
And with wild horses thee in pieces rend :
Inflicting several deaths on thy each limb.
For murdering a Prince, and me in him.'

As Sydanis these passionate words spake.
All ready was her nimble flickering ghost
Her body's beauteous mansion to forsake.
And towards the blest Elysian fields to post ;
All sense of this world's miseries were lost :
Yet this her sad departure seem'd most sweet,
That there again she Leoline should meet.

But now the Druid, who unto the height
Had wrought her grief, resolv'd to hold his hand,
And suddenly to alleviate that weight
Of woe opprest her, takes a frozen wand,
With which, and magic spells, he could command
The Furies, Fates, Nymphs, Furies, and what else
In the Sea's deeps, or Earth's dark bosom dwells.