But kill my Rival too; for he no less
Deferves; and I thy righteous Doom will blefs,
Affur'd that what I lofe, he never shall poffefs.
To this reply'd the stern Athenian Prince,
And fow'rly fmil'd, In owning your Offence
You judge your felf; and I but keep Record
In place of Law, while you pronounce the Word.
Take your Defert, the Death you have decreed;
I feal your Doom, and ratifie the Deed.
By Mars, the Patron of my Arms, you die.
He faid; dumb Sorrow feiz'd the Standers by.
The Queen above the rest, by Nature good,
(The Pattern form'd of perfect Womanhood)
For tender Pity wept: When she began,
Through the bright Quire th' infectious Virtue ran.
All dropp'd their Tears,ev'n the contended Maid;
And thus among themselves they softly faid:
What Eyes can fuffer 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
From Pride of Empire, nor Defire of Fame: [came
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 Such Pity wrought in ev'ry Lady's Mind, [Kind, They left their Steeds, and proftrate on the Place, From the fierce King, implor'd th' Offenders Grace.
He paus❜d a while, stood filent in his Mood, (For yet, his Rage was boiling in his Blood) But foon his tender Mind th' Impreffion felt, (As softest Metals are not flow to melt, And Pity foonest runs in softest Minds:) Then reasons with himself; and first he finds His Paffion caft a Mist before his Sense, And either made, or magnify'd th' Offence. Offence! of what? to whom? Who judg'd the Caufe? The Pris'ner freed himself by Nature's Laws: Born free, he fought 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, And faw the Womens Tears, and heard theirCries; Which mov'd Compaffion more: he shook his [Head, And foftly fighing to himself he faid,
Curse on th' unpard'ning Prince, whom Tears can draw
To no Remorfe; who rules by Lions Law; And deaf to Pray'rs, by no Submiffion bow'd, Rends all alike; the Penitent, and Proud:
At this, with Look ferene, he rais'd his Head, Reason refum'd her Place, and Paffion fled: Then thus aloud he spoke: The Pow'r of Love, In Earth, and Seas, and Air, and Heav'n above, Rules, unrefifted, with an awful Nod;
By daily Miracles declar'd a God:
He blinds the Wife, gives Eye-fight to the Blind ;
And moulds and ftamps anew the Lover's Mind.
Behold that Arcite, and this Palamon,.
Freed from my Fetters, and in Safety gone,
What hinder'd either in their native Soil
At Eafe to reap the Harvest of their Toil?
But Love, their Lord, did otherwife ordain,
And brought 'em in their own despite again,
To fuffer Death deferv'd; for well they know,
'Tis in my Pow'r, and I their deadly Foe;
The Proverb holds, That to be wife and love,
Is hardly granted to the Gods above.
See how the Madmen bleed: Behold the Gains
With which their Master, Love, rewards their
For fev'n long Years, on Duty ev'ry Day, [Pains:
Lo their Obedience, and their Monarch's Pay:
Yet, as in Duty bound, they serve him on,
And ask the Fools, they think it wifely done:
Nor Ease, nor Wealth, nor Life it felf 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 fufpect their Love,
Nor thought, when the beheld the Fight from far,
Her Beauty was th' Occafion of the War.
But fure 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,
For I have ferv'd their Sovereign, long ago.
Oft have been caught within the winding Train
Of Female Snares, and felt the Lovers Pain,
And learn'd how far the God can Human Hearts
To this Remembrance, and the Pray'rs of those 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 Vaffals, to their utmost Might,
Perfon, and affert my Right.
This, freely fworn, the Knights their Grace obtain'd;
Then thus the King his fecret Thoughts explain'd:
If Wealth, or Honour, or a Royal Race,
Or each, or all, may win a Lady's Grace,
Then either of you Knights may well deserve
A Princess born; and fuch is fhe you serve:
For Emily is Sifter to the Crown,
And but too well to both her Beauty known:
But fhou'd you combate till you both were dead,
Two Lovers cannot share a fingle Bed:
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 beft deferves her Love.
Depart from hence in Peace, and free as Air,
Search the wide World, and where you please
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