Book V, Canto I

Tier'd with afflictions in a safe retreat
From th' active world, Pharonnida is now
Making a sacred monastry her seat,
Where near approaching the confirming vow,
A rude assault, makes her a Prisoner to
Almanzors power, to expiate whose sin
The subtil Traytor swiftly leads her to
The Court, where she had long a stranger bin.

HEre harsh imployments, the unsavory weeds
Of barren wants had over-run the seeds
Of fancy with domestick cares, and in
Those winter storms shipwrack'd what ere had bin
My youths imperfect off-spring, had not I
For love of this neglected poverty,
That meager fiend whose rustic tallons stick
Contempt on all that are inforc'd to seek
Like me, a poor subsistance 'mongst the low
Shrubs of imployment, whilst blest wits that grow
Good fortunes favorits, like proud Ceders stand
Scorning the stroke of every feeble hand,
Whose vain attempts, though they should martyr sense,
Would be repulst with big-bulk'd confidence:
Yet blush not gentle Muse, thou oft hast had
Followers, by fortunes hand as meanly clad,
And such as when time had worn envy forth
Succeeding ages honor'd for their worth.
Then though not by these rare examples fier'd
To vain presumption, with a soul untir'd
As his, whose fancies short Ephemeraes know
No life, but what doth from his liquor flow,
Whose wit grown wanton with canaries wealth
Makes the chast Muse a pandress to a health,
Our royal Lovers story I'll pursue
Through times dark paths, which now have led me to
Behold Argalia, by assisting art
Advanc'd to health, preparing to depart
From his obscure abode, to prosecute
Designs, which when, success strikes terror mute
With pleasing joy, shall him the mirror prove
Of forward valor, glost with filial love.
But let us here with prosperous blessings leave
A while the noble Hero, and receive
From times accounts the often varying story
Of her whose love conducted him to glory,
Distrest Pharonnida, whose sufferings grown
Too great for all that vertue ere had known
From humane precepts, flies for refuge to
Heavens narrowest paths, where the directing clew
Of Law, to which the Earth for order owes,
Lost in zeals light, a useless trouble growes.
Return'd were all the messengers, which she
Had at the first salutes of Libertie
To seek Argalia sent: But since none brought
Her passions ease, sick hope no longer sought
Those flattering Emp'ricks; but at Loves bright fires
Kindling her zeal, with sober pace retires
From all expected honors, to bestow
What time her youth did yet to nature ow,
A solemn Recluse, by a sacred vow
Lockt up from action, whilst she practis'd how
By speculation safely to attain
What busier Mortals doubtfully do gain.
Within the compass of the valley, where
Ismanders palace stood, the pious care
Of elder times had plac'd, a Monastrie,
Whose fair possessors from life's tumults free,
In a calm voyage towards heaven (their home) there spent
The quiet hours, so sweetly innocent,
As if that place, that happy place, had bin
Of all the earth alone exempt from sin;
Some sacred power ordaining (when 'twas given)
It for the next preparing school to heaven;
From whence those Vestals should, when life expires,
Be for supplies advanc'd to heavenly quires.
Lost to the world in sorrows lab'rinths, here
Pharonnida, now out of hope to cleer
This tempest of her fate, resolves to cast
Her faiths firm anchor: But before she past
The dangerous straits of a restrictive vow,
She to such friends as judgment taught her how
To prize, imparts it; 'mongst which few, the fair
Silvandra, whom lost love had taught despair,
With sad Florenza, both resolve to take
The same strict habit, and with her forsake
The treacherous world. But to disturb this clear
Stream of devotion, soon there did appear
Disswading friends, Ismander loth to lose
So lov'd a guest, whilst she's of power to choose,
Together with the vertuous Amida,
Spend their most powerful arguments to draw
Her from those cold thoughts, that her vertue might
Whilst unconceal'd, lend weaker mortals light.
Long had this friendly conflict lasted, ere
Her conquer'd friends, whom a religious care
Frighted from robbing heaven of Saints, withdrew
To mourn her loss; yet ere they left her to
Her cloyster'd Cell, Ismander, to comply
With aged custom, calls such friends whom nigh
Abode had made familiar, to attend
His Royal guest; some hasty days they spend
In solemn feasting, where each friend although
Cloath'd as when they at triumphs met, did shew
A silent sadness, such as wretched Brides,
When the neglected nuptial robe but hides
The cares of an obstructed love, before
Harsh parents wear. The mirthless feast past ore,
The noble Virgins in procession by
The mourning train, unto the Monast'ry
Slowly conducted are, each led by two
Full-breasted Maids, whom Hymen to renew
The worlds decaying stock, his joys to prove
By contracts summon'd to conjugal love.
These as they past, like Paranymphs which led
Young Beauties to espouse a Maidenhead
With harmony, whose each•concording part
Tickl'd the ear, whilst it did strike the heart
With mournful numbers, rifling every brest
Of their deep thoughts, thus the sad sense exprest.

To secret walks, to silent shades,
To places where no voice invades
The air, but what's created by
Their own retir'd society,
Slowly these blooming Nymphs we bring
To wither out their fragrant spring,
For whose sweet odors Lovers pine,
Where beauty doth but vainly shine:

Where Natures wealth, and Arts assisting cost
Both in the beams of distant hope are lost.

To Cloysters where cold damps destroy
The busie thoughts of Bridal joy;
To Vows whose harsh events must be
Vncoupl'd cold Virginitie;
To pensive prayers, where heaven appears
Through the pale cloud of private tears,
These captive Virgins we must leave,
Till freedom they from death receive:
Only in this remote conclusion blest,

This vale of tears leads to eternal rest.

Then since that such a choice as theirs,
Which stiles them the undoubted heirs
To heaven, 'twere sinful to repent:
Here may they live till beauty spent
In a religious life, prepare
Them with their fellow-Saints to share
Celestial joys, for whose desire
They freely from the world retire:

Go then, and rest in blessed peace, whilst we
Deplore the loss of such societie.

Through all the slow delays of Love arriv'd
To the unguarded gate, friendship that thriv'd
Not in Perswasions rhetorick, withdraws
Her forces to assist that juster cause,
Prayers for their future good; with which whilst they
Are taking leave, th'unfolded gates give way
For the blest Votries entrance, whom to meet,
A hundred pair of Maids, more chastely sweet
Then slowers which grow untoucht in desarts, were
Led by their Abbess; to whose pious care
These being join'd, with such a sad reverse
Of eyes oreflowing, as the sable herse
Close mourners leave, when they must see no more
Their coffin'd dead, their friends are from the dore
With eager looks, woes last since now denied
A further view, departs unsatisfied.
This last of duties which the dearest friend
Ought to perform, brought to successful end;
For here no custom with a dowries price
At entrance paid, nurst slothful avarice:
They're softly led through a fair garden, where
Each walk was by the founders pious care,
For various fancies, wanton imagrie,
To catch the heart, and not to court the eye,
Adorn'd with sacred histories. From hence
To th' center of this fair circumference
The fabrick come, the roving eye confin'd
Within the buildings, to enlarge the mind
In contemplation, saw where happy Art
Had on the figur'd walls the second part
Of Sacred story, drawn in lines that had
The worlds Redeemer from his first being clad
In robes of flesh, presented to the view
Through all his passion, till it brought him to
The Cross, that highest seal of love, where he
A sinless offering died, from sin to free
The captiv'd world, which knew no other price
But that to pay the debts of Paradice.
Past through this place, where bleeding passion strove
Their melting pity to refine to love,
They're now the Temple enter'd, where to skreen
Their thoughts yet nearer heaven, whom they had seen
Ith' entrance scourg'd, contemn'd & crucifide,
They there beheld, though veils of glory hide
Some part of the amazing Majestie
In his Ascension, as when rais'd to be
For them that hear his death freed from the hate
Of angry heaven, the powerful Advocate.
Besides these bold attempts of Art that stood
To fright the wicked, or to prompt the good;
Something more great, more sacred, then could by
Art be exprest, without the help oth' eye
Reacht at the center of the soul, from whence
To heaven, our rais'd desires circumference,
Striking the lines of Contemplation, she
Wrapt from the earth, is in an extasie
Holy, and high, through faith's clear optick shown
Those joys which to departed saints are known.
Before those pray'rs which zeal had tedious made
With their last troops did conquer'd heav'n invade;
The day was on the glitt'ring wings of light,
Fled to the western world, and swarthy night
In her black Empire thron'd; from silver shrines
The kindl'd lamps through all the temple shines
With dapl'd rayes, that did to th' eye present
The beauties of the larger firmament.
In which still calm, when all their rites were now
So near perform'd, that the confirming vow
Alone remain'd, a sudden noise of rude
And clamorous sound, did through the ear intrude
On their affrighted fancies, in so high
A voice, that all their sacred harmony
In this confusion lost, appear'd so small,
As if that whisper'd which was made to call.
Although the awfull majesty that here
Religion held, the weak effects of fear
With faith expel'd, yet when that nearer to
Their slender gates the murmuring tumult drew;
The Abbess sends not to secure, but see
Who durst attempt what heaven from all kept free
By strictest law, save those unhallow'd hands
That follow curses whilst they flie commands,
But they being entred ere the timerous Scout
Could notice give, fear, which first sprung from doubt
Being into wilde confusion grown, from all
Set forms affrights them, whilst at once they call
For heavens protecting mercy, to behold
That place where peacefull Saints us'd to unfold
Heavens Oracles, possest with villains that
Did ne'r know ought but want to tremble at,
Which look'd like those that with proud Angels fell,
And to storm heaven were sent in arms from hell,
Converts that Scean where nothing did appear
But calm devotion, to distracting fear;
Amaz'd with horror, each sad votress stands
Whilst sacred relicks drop from trembling hands;
Here one whose heart with fears convulsions faint,
Flies to the shrine of her protecting saint;
By her another stands, whose spirits spent
In Passion, looks pale as her monument:
One shrieks, another prayes, a third had crost
Her self so much, ill Angels might have lost
The way to hurt her, if not taught to do'r,
Cause she to th' sign too much did attribute.
The royal Stranger by her fear persu'd
To th' altar fled, had with mixt passion view'd
This dreadfull troop, whilst from the temple gate
They past the seat where trembling virgins sate
Free from uncivil wrongs, as if that they
That entred had been men prepar'd to pray,
Not come to ravish, from which sight her fear
Picks flowers of hope, but such, as they drawn near
From fancies soft lap, in a Hirocane
Of passion drop'd her pray'rs and tears in vaine
As words in winds, or showers in Seas, when they
Prepare for ruin the obstructed way
To pitty, which her stock of pray'rs had cost,
In the dark shade of sudden horror lost.
Seis'd on by two o' th' sacrilegious train
Whose black disguise had made the eye in vain
Seek to inform the soul, she and the poor
Florenza, whilst their helpless friends deplore
With silent tears so sad a loss, are drew
From the clasp'd Altar in th' offended view
Of their protecting saints, from whose shrines in
A dismal omen dropt what ere had bin
With hopes of merit plac'd. Black sulphry damps
With swift convulsions quench'd the sacred lamps,
The fabrick shakes, and as if griev'd they stood
To circle guilt, the walls sweat tears of blood.
Shrieks, such as if those fainted souls that there
Trod heaven's strait paths, in their just quarrel were
Rose from their silent dormitories to
Deter their foes, through all the temple flew.
But here in vain destroying angels shook
The sword of vengeance, whilst his bold crimes struck
'Gainst heaven in high contempt; with impious haste,
Snatch'd from the altar, whilst their friends did waste
Unheard Orizons for their safety, they
Unto the Fabrick's utmost gate convey
Their beauteous prizes, where with silence stood
Their dreadful guard, which like a neighb'ring wood
When vapors tip the naked boughs in light,
With unsheath'd swords through the black mists of night
A sparkling terror strook, with such a speed
As scarce gave time to fear what would succeed.
To such preceding vilanies, within
Her Coach imprison'd, the sad Princess, in
A march for swiftness such as busie war
Hastes to meet death in, but for silence far
More still then funerals, is by that black troop
With such exchange as falling stars do stoop
To nights black region, from the Monastrie
Hurri'd in haste, by whom, or whither, she
Yet knows no more then souls departing, when
Or where, to meet in robes of flesh agen.
The day salutes her, and uncurtain'd light
Welcoms her through the confines of the night.
But lends no comfort, every object that
It shewed her, being such, as if frighted at
The Prince of day, griev'd h'ad no longer slept,
To shun, shrunk back beneath a cloud, and wept.
When the unfolded curtains gave her eyes
Leave to look forth, a troop, whose close disguise
Were stubborn arms, she only saw, and they
So silent, nought but motion did betray
The faculties of life, by whom being led
In such a sad march as their honor'd dead
Close mourners follow, she some flow-pac'd days
'Mongst strangers passing through stranger ways,
(At both amaz'd) at length, unfathom'd by
Her deepest thought within the reach oth' eye
Her known Ghirenza views; but with a look
From whence cold passion all the blood had took,
And in her face (that frozen sea of fear)
Left nought but storms of wonder to appear.
Conven'd within the spacious Judgment-hall
Of Reason, she, ere this had summon'd all
Her weaker passions to th' impartial Bar
Of Moral Vertue, where they sentenc'd are
Only to an untroubled silence; in
Which serious act whilst she had busied bin,
She is, unnoted, ere the fall of day
Brought by her convoy to a Lodge that lay
Off from the rode, a place, when seen, she knew
Ere his rebellion, had belong'd unto
Her worst of foes, Almanzor, which begins
At first a doubt, whose growing force soon wins
The field of faith, and tells her timorous thought
Her fathers troops would ne'r have thither brought
Her, if design'd to suffer, since that he
Knew those more fit for close captivitie.
But long her reason lies not fetter'd in
These cross Dilemma's; the slow night had been
With tedious hours past ore, whilst she by none
But Mutes, no less unheard, then their unknown
Is only waited on, by whom, when day
To action call'd (she veil'd) is led the way
To the attending Convoy, who had now
Varied the Scene, Almanzor studying how
To court compassion in his Prince, dares not
At the first view, ere merit had begot
A calm remission of rebellious sin,
Affront an anger which had justice bin
In his confusion; his arms he now behind,
As that which might too soon have call'd to mind
His former crimes, he leaves, and for them took
To gain the aspect of a pitying look,
A Hermites homely weed, his willing train
By that fair gloss their liberties to gain,
Rode arm'd; but so, what for offence they bore,
Was in submission to lay down before
The throne of injur'd power, to cure whose fear
Their armed heads on halter'd necks appear
Near to the rear of these, the Princess in
A mourning Litter, close as she had bin
In a night-march unto her tomb, is through
The Cities wandring tumults led unto
The royal palace, at whose gates all stay
Save bold Almanzor, whom the Guards obey
For his appearing sanctity so much,
That he unquestion'd enters, and thought such
As his grave habit promis'd, soon obtain'd
The Princes sight, where with a gesture fain'd
To all the shapes of true devotion, he
By a successfull fiction comes to be
Esteem'd the true converter of those wilde
Bandits, which being by their own crimes exil'd
In spight of law had liv'd to punish those
Which did the rules of punishment compose.
These being pardon'd, as he'd took from thence
Encouragement, veil'd under the pretence
Of a religious pity, he begins
In language, whose emolient smoothness wins
An easie conquest on belief, to frame
A sad Petition, which although in name
It had disguis'd Pharonnida, did finde
So much of pity as the Prince inclin'd
To lend his aid for the relief of her
Whose vertue found so fair a character
In his description, it might make unblest
That power which left so much of worth distrest.
Though too much tir'd with private cares to shew
In publick throngs how much his love did owe
To suffering vertue, yet since told that she
Was too much mask'd in clouds of grief to be
The object of the censuring Court, he to
The Litter goes, whose sable veil withdrew
With wonder, that did scarce belief admit
Shadow'd in grief, he sees his daughter sit,
His long lost daughter, whom unsought, to be
Thus strangely found, to such an extasie
Of joy exalts him, that his spirits by
Those swift pulsations had been all let fly
With thanks towards heav'n, had not the royal Maid
With showers of penitential tears allaid
Those hotter passions, and revok'd him to
Support her griefs, whose burthen had out-grew
The powers of life, but that there did appear
Kinde natures love, to cure weak natures fear.
In this encounter of their passions, both
With sorrow silent stood, words being loath
T' intrude upon their busie thoughts, till they
In moist compassion melted had away
His angers fever, and her frozen •ears
In Natures balm, soft loves extracted tears:
Like a sad Patient whose forgotten strength
Decay'd by cronick ills, hath made the length
Of life his burthen, when near death, meets there
Unhop'd for health; so from continual care,
The souls slow hectick, elevated by
This cordial joy, the slothfull Lethargy
Of age, or sorrow findes an easier cure
Then the unsafe extream, a Calenture.
Nor are these comforts long constrain'd to rest
Within the confines of his own swell'd brest,
Ere its dismantl'd rayes did in a flight
Swift as the motions of unbodied light
Disperse its Epidemick vertues through
The joyfull Court, which now arriv'd unto
Its former splendor, heavens expected praise
Doth on the wings of candid mercy raise:
Which spreading in a joyful Jubile
To all offenders, tells Almanzor he
Might safely now unmask; which done, ere yet
Discover'd, at the well-pleas'd Princess feet
Humbl'd with guilt he kneels; who at the sight
As much amaz'd as so sublime a flight
Of joy admitted, stands attentive to
What did in these submissive words ensue.
Behold, great Sir, (for now I dare be seen)
An object for your mercy that had been
Too dreadful for discovery, had not this
Preceding joy told me, no Crime could miss
The rode of mercy, though like mine, a sin
The suffering Nation is invellop'd in.
Sunk in the ocean of my guilt, I h'd gone
A desperate Rebel, waited on by none
But Outlaws to a grave obscure, had not
Relenting heaven thus taught me how to blot
Out some of sins black characters, ere I
Beheld the beams of injur'd Majestie.
This in his passions relaxation spoke,
Perswades the Princes justice to revoke
Its former rigor. By the helpful hand
Of mercy rais'd, Almanzor soon did stand
Not only pardon'd, but secur'd by all
His former honors from a future fall,
Making that fortune which did now appear
Their pities object, through the glass of fear
With envy look'd on, but in vain, he stood
Confirm'd in Loves Meridian altitude
The length of life from Honors western shade,
Except in new Rebellion retrograde:
Which plotting leave him, till the winding clew
Of fancy shall conduct your knowledge to
Those uncouth vaults; and mounting the next story,
See Vertue climbing to the throne of glory.