"Nor could religion's heat, if one rul'd all, "Religion ne'r, till divers monarchys, Taught that almighty Heav'n needs armys' aid; But with contentious kings she now complies, Who seem, for their own cause, of God's afraid. "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. "He lost in this attempt his last dear blood; "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, "But let not what so needfully was done, "He who does blindly soar at Rhodalind, [ease; Mounts, like seel'd doves, still higher from his And in the lust of empire he may finde, High hope does better than fruition please. "The victor's solid recompense is rest; And 'tis unjust that chiefs, who pleasure shunn, Toyling in youth, should be in age opprest With greater toyles, by ruling what they wonn. "Here all reward of conquest I would finde, Now Astragon (with joy suffic'd) perceiv'd With teares bids Gondibert to Heav'n's eie make Straight to his lov'd philosophers he hies, But in her search, he is by Goltho stay'd, Who in a close dark covert foldes his armes ; His eies with thoughts grow darker than that shade, Such thoughts as yielding breasts with study warmes. Fix'd to unheeded object is his eie! His sences he calls in, as if t' improve, By outward absence, inward extacie, Such as makes prophets, or is made by love. "Awake!" (said Gondibert) "for now in vain Thou dream'st of sov'raignty and war's success; Hope nought has left, which worth should wish to gain; And all ambition is but hope's excess. "Bid all our worthys 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 warre." At this starts Goltho, like some army's chief, "What means my prince to make so low a boast, Whose merit may aspire to Rhodalind? For who could Birtha miss if she were lost, That shall by worth the other's treasure find? "When your high blood and conquests shall submit "Birtha (a harmless country 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 de. serve." This brought the duke's swift anger to his eies, Leaves him, and Birtha seeks with lover's haste. Now Goltho mourns, yet not that Birtha's fair, Himself who loves her, and his love must hide. 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, He was unus'd to love, as bred in warres, And not till now for beauty leasure had; Yet bore love's load, as youth bears other cares, Till new despair makes love's old weight too sad. But Ulfinore does hither aptly come, His second breast, in whom his griefs' excesse He may ebb out, where they o'reflow at home; Such griefs, as thus in throngs for utt'rance press. "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. "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. "When Birtha's grief so comely did appear, Whilst she beheld our wounded duke's distresse; Then first my alter'd heart began to fear, Least too much love should friendship dispossesse." But this whilst Ulfinore with sorrow hears, Him Goltho's busier sorrow little heeds; "To Love's new dangers I have gone unarm'd, "Th' obedient and defencelesse, sure, no law "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. "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: |