Ponce de Leon: or, The rival slain A tragical dream in K. Harry's walk.

Ponce de Leon: OR, THE RIVAL SLAIN.

AFter Misfortunes in th'Intriegues of Love, Sick witht's abortive Pangs, unto a Grove (By some call'd Harry's Walk) I did repair, To mittigate my grief i'th' ecchoing Air, Knitting my Brows, to'ards Heav'n I'd often frown Where, vainly seeking Help, I sate me down Under the Feathers of a spacious Tree, Sharply reflecting on my Destiny: But, thro' the various Ideas of the bright Alm'hide, my giddy Eyes, soon lost their Sight; Fast Lock'd, Lo, thus I Dreamt! That I was there Ponce de Leon in a black Dispair; Methoughts I 'rose, drawing my Sword, and knit My am'rous Looks into a chol'rick Fit;

Venting my Passion thus: — Y'immortal gods! Why is't ye Rack me? Scourge me thus with Rods? Burn me with Ardor? And, t'increase my pain, Lash me in Melancholly Fits, and out again? Have I a Heart of Flint? Or, can my Spirit, So Nobly born, deservedly inherit The wracking tortures of that Fiction LOVE? Fiction! (said I) Once more, ye gods above, Does my dear Shepherdess, fair Almahide, Resemble nought but Fancy? Nay, beside, Are the Injoyments of her chaste Imbraces, Attended with reciprocal Caresses, Nothing but barely Fancy? Is the whole System of Virtues in her noble Soul, Compacted up with Fancy? Ye Heav'ns, if she Be nothing else but flatt'ring Phantasie, Why must Illusions hurry Mortals here Into Convulsive Throws of black Dispair, To waste their Vitals; which should nourish'd be With what is Real, not Love's Phantasie? — Wretch! why do I repine, since now I own That is a Fancy which I dote upon? —

Thus in my Dream sometime I Fum'd; and then Stood still awhile, and thus began agen: —

What! Does the Duke of Infantada make Me to believe, dear Almahide will take His Love to Heart? No, no, fair Almahide Loves the young Count 'bove all the World beside: Witness each shady Grove, and silent Walk, How simpathizing she would Sigh and Talk! Witness ye many Glances of Each Eye, Ye Earth, ye Water, and y'Aethaerial Sky, Whether it was not something more than Flattery!

— Here fetching Minute Sighs, I added still, Who knows th' Ambitious bounds of Almahide's Will? 'May be she loves the Duke, because he lyes Ready t'ascend the Regal Dignities! Is he not in a Station, which may bring The choicest Beauties to enjoy a King? And why not Almahide, whose noble Soul Speaks purely Majesty? Ah! wretched Fool, How long will vain confused thoughts torment Thy Soul's Serenity with Discontent? What! does the Duke, my Father, think to see The Offspring of his Loins lose Chivalry In flatt'ring Love? What! does my Mother fear Ponce de Leon will a Fool appear On Honour's Stage? Ye Heav'ns, I'd rather far Lose Crowns and Diadems, than Beauty's Star Fair Almahide! whose Sight's a Bow; the Quiver Is full of Glances darting thro' my Liver!

—Here, sometime Pausing, presently I felt (In a great Passion) for my Rapiers Hilt; Which having found, 'gan thus; Ye Sisters Three Who fondly think to Spin my Destiny To a far longer Thred of Misery; Here solemnly, 'fore Heav'n, I do Combine With this bright Sword, to end this Life of mine.

Alm'hide adieu! your Lover goes before With hopes t'injoy thee on the Elizium Shore; Since here he can't obtain it, tho' he might Challenge it Justly as a Sacred Right! Down to those silent Shades his Soul shall fly And wrap it self in still Eternity! Where, lovely Shepherdess, [but Cruel Fair!] He hyes in hopes to meet thee shortly there—

Which said, I stopt; and fixing fast my Eyes, With a deep Imprecation, to'ards the Skies; Ready to render up my Soul; withall Just giving way upon my Sword to fall, Methoughts, came in abruptly at each Ear A Voice, thus loudly Ecchoing; Forbear! Amaz'd I look'd about, first here, then there; Next, round the Grove, then up towards the Air: Where nothing 'spying; nor could hear more Noise, Thus, thus I quickly rais'd my stam'ring Voice—

Who is it Calls? Is it Fair Alm'hide's Will, I should forbear? The Eccho was; No, Kill! — Then answer'd I, who art thou that does send Such strict Commands to hasten quick my End? Dost thou on Earth, or in the Heav'ns abide? The Answer quickly came; 'Tis Almahide! If thou be Almahide, (said I) how can You Cruelly desire to see that Man Destroy himself, whose Love out-lives the Day? Better I Love the Duke 'f Infantada! Was the next Answer; [easily you may guess Those Words soon fill'd my Soul with Frantickness] Whereat, in hast, I passionately reply'd; Love him, imperious, haughty Almahide! If thou be Almahide, which answer'st me, Love him thou canst not more than I Love thee! But if you Love him, keep it from my Ears, And not consume me with such pannick Fears: Upbraid me to my Face! Ye gods, if he Were here, his venomn'd Soul should quickly flee Down a deep purple Gore! —

Ah, wretched Elf! (Continued I) why Flatterest thus thy self? How soon art thou deceiv'd, with th'ecchoing Air! The Duke and she are free from Love's Dispair?

He now injoys her Presence, and she quite Has banish'd th' Idea of young Ponce's Sight — From her fair Eyes! —

— Ye heav'ns! that ever I Should have from thence so much Perplexity! Go wretched Ponce, go, [thou art betray'd!] And hye away to the Elizium Shade? — What dost thou here? —

— Then turning to my Sword, I senseless stood, not uttering one Word For sev'ral Minutes, till thro' Agony I rais'd my Eyes up to'ards th' Aetherial Sky: Say'ng thus; Y'immortal Powers above the Skies, Regard my Plaints, Commiserate my Cries! All I do beg, is, Let the Furies Prey Upon my Rival Duke 'f Infantada. Nor let his Hopes, nor am'rous Projects, ever Arrive unto the Bud, before they Wither; And may the beauteous Almahide as soon Meet her December in the midst of June! Cruel she was to me! Ye gods, therefore I fly to you, to see her Face no more!

— And as I ended thus; I gazed round Tosee all clear, then struck into the Ground Once more my Rapier's Hilt; when going to fall Thereon, with these last Words; Adieu to all The amorous Enjoyments, which I could Once call my own, a Voice cry'd shrilly, Hold! —

At which, impatient, strait away I hy'd, Thinking to see, or hear, my Almahide; Down to the further end of all the Grove, My stagg'ring Feet, and gazing Eyes did Rove,

Calling out thus; My Alm'hide, I Obey, And hold my Hands; What hast thou more to say? Speak, fairest, speak? —

— And then I listen'd so 's To Hear, if possible, 'twere She, or no; — But nothing answer'd to my doleful Cry, Only that eccho'd back more Misery; Which made me thus Exclaim; Fye, Ponce, Fye! Thou tim'rous Coward, what afraid to Dye? Where is thy Valour now? What, does it hide Under the Notions of fair Almahide! They're only airy Fictions which combine With thee, to linger out this Life of thine: Alas! She's far enough from thee; nor would She, if within thine Eccho; bid thee hold; Away, then valiant Ponce, and besure Thou try'st thy Valour in a Crimson Gore! Whereat I stept to my first Station; and Kneel'd softly down upon a Bank of Sand; Lifting my Eyes and Hands to'ards Heav'n, I cry'd Out thus: Great Jove! whose Pow'r doth firm abide! Assist me with a resolute frame to try Grim Death's Assault, and gain the Victory? I here appeal to Thee, if ever in The Centre of this Brest, was lodg'd that Sin Call'd base Ingratitude, or Flattery? If Almahide could in that Closet pry, Then she might see Effects enough to prove 'Tis she alone I really do Love! —

— Thou thund'ring god! have I not undergone The false Aspersions of a clam'rous Tongue, T'repute me little? Have I not deny'd Th'injoyments of a Court for Almahide?

Have I not restless been both Day and Night Without I had her Person in my Sight? And was it not, ye Heav'ns! my Heart's Delight? Has not my Soul been gall'd to see each Day, Almahide Love the Duke 'f Infantada? —

— Then, with a melting Sigh, I felt within My Bosome, for a Letter, put therein Sometime before; which having Kist, and Scan'd Each Line thereof, I hid it in the Sand; And leaning o'er my Rapier, cry'd aloud; Ye Heav'ns receive me, and revenge my Blood! Whereat I fell; but 'forc't had pierc'd the Skin, Two masked Ladies instantly stept in, Seizing me fast by either Arm, and Cry'd, Ponce! Is this your Love for Almahide? What will you Kill yourself, because you see Almahide does not love Inconstancy? Surely you are Besotted! Else, by all The Pow'rs above, you'd ne'er attempt to fall By your own Hands! At which one took away My Rapier, whilst the other thus did say:

Ponce! How know you that fair Almahide gives way To Love your Rival Duke 'f Infantada? Speak, Ponce, speak? and let not Jealousie Bring Arguments to prove Inconstancy.

At which I stood amaz'd; but gazing on Her well proportion'd Aspect, thus began; Whoe'er you be, I know not, but this Speech Speaks it to be above poor Mortals reach; And if un-masked were that beauteous Face, 'Twould quickly prove you of Immortal Race.

To which, she said; What Argues this? I'll be What e'er you please, so you'll but Answer me: How say'st thou Ponce? Jealousie does hide Within thy Brest, concerning Almahide: Come, speak the Naked Truth? Is it not so Ponce de Leon? Answer Yes, or No:

These very Words, methoughts, did Usher in Some secret Thoughts, that Almahide was then Discoursing with me; whereupon, I said, (Bowing full Low) Divine, Angelick Maid, Since by your Heav'n assisting bounteous Hands, My wretched Life before it's Owner stands, Surely it can't do less than stoop to her Commands! What you call Jealousie, to me has been A thing not merely Fancyed, but Seen: Have I not seen my Rival Duke abide Whole Hours with the Cruel Almahide? When wretched Ponce has been banish'd quite With angry Frowns from being in her Sight? What call you this? —

To which th' Ʋnknown reply'd; How do you know but Cruel Almahide, As you do term her, did it for to try Ponce de Leon's Love and Constancy? Are not all Mortal? Therefore can no Heart But yours, be wounded with blind Cupid's Dart? You'ave Seen! But what avils it? Did you find That ever Almahide did prove more Kind To him, than You? Or, did you ever See Any thing more than bare Gentility, I'th' midst of all's Intriegues?

— No: (answer'd I) Yet something more is in't than Jealousie;

For why? If Almahide lov'd Ponce, then She'd Banish from her Sight all other Men.

That's a mere jealous Fancy: (strait said She) What, wou'd you force her to a Nunnery! For my own Part, if I were Almahide, I'd cease from Love, before I'd be so ty'd! No, Ponce, no; 'tis only your Surmise That he is pretious in Fair Alm'hide's Eyes: All you can say, will never make me deem, But Almahide for Ponce has esteem: Therefore be Valiant, and hence forward Live In hopes, that Almahide will never give That Heart unto another, which, as due, I am perswaded, is reserv'd for you!

O Heav'ns! (cry'd I) If what you say be so, No less Affliction can I undergo! But, fair Unknown, What Credit may I give To this Discourse? Do you with Alm'hide Live? —Then greedy for an Answer, strait she said, I know her Well: (turning towards her Maid Who held my Sword, Continuing thus) and have Not been so long aquainted with that Slave, But know her innocent Humour, how, and when She seems to Slight, and then to Love agen, Which Ebbs and flows from th' Ardor in her Brest, Due to your jealous Self? — Guess you the rest. — But Ponce, (added she) What if that fair Cruel Dissembler, (as you call her) were With such a Jealousie so led aside, As; Ponee does not Love fair Almahide! Not Love her (then said I) Nay, hold, said she: Ye gods, (continued I) more Misery Inflict upon my Soul, if what you say Be true, than e'er I'ave wisht Infantada!

What, not esteem fair Almahide, whose Love Is to be priz'd more than an Orb above! No, no, brave Gen'rous Ponce's Heart ne'er bent It's will to join with such a base Intent: He scorns to act his Rival's part, by trying T'entice so chaste a Soul with cursed Lying. Whereat I storm'd, and Snuffing up the Wind, Gave her to Understand my ard'rous Mind: To which she answer'd thus; Ponce! You know 'Tis Ʋsual with your Sex to argue so: Which makes this Proverb good; Virgins! beware; For Flattery, by Nature, is Man's Snare.

Here stopping, with a gentle Sigh, I drew Near to unmask her Beauty; but she flew Instantly back some paces, s'if afraid Of the Event; And thus she Storming said:

Ponce! I do Conjure you by the Pow'rs above; And all the Protestations of that Love Made to the innocent Captive, Almahide, Not to approach more nearer then you side O'th' Bank. (Pointing some paces off where I Had just before prepar'd my self to Dye.) Then turning to her Maid, she thus did say; Clitie! 'tis late: Come, let us hye away.

At which, I cryed out, Cruel Unknown! What, wilt thou leave poor Ponce here alone In worse Dispair, without the knowledge who It is he owes his wretched Life unto? For Heaven's sake; (continu'd I) tell me Whether 'tis Almahide has set me free From desp'rate Acts? To which, she quick reply'd;

Ponce! rest Satisfy'd, 'Tis Almahide To whom three times you Owe your Life unto: Enough, 'tis Almahide who bids, Adieu! Whereat, Re-masking quick her beauteous Face, Clitie and Almahide with-drew apace. Leaving poor Ponce senseless, just like One That metamorphos'd was into a Stone: — Near half an Hour revolv'd, before that I Recover'd Sense; when, in an Extasie Of boundless Joy, my Ravish'd Heart soon broke Out in a Rapture like a Thunder-stroke.

The RAPTURE.

OH! what am I Turn'd to some Deity? Or, has great Jove Sent from his Throne above A Sip of Nectar to refresh my Soul: What need I care? They're Fools who Love Dispair, I now am free From such damn'd Misery; Which always makes Sagacity a Fool.

All, all my Pride Is in Fair Almahide! She bids me Live, In hopes for to receive One Day a Salve to heal my Wounds and Smart; That which I prize 'Bove all beneath the Skies: For I'm assur'd, Whom she hath kill'd, she'ath cur'd, And on her Patient hath bestow'd her Heart!

—Thus having vented out my Joy; away My thoughts were hurry'd on Infantada; Laughing, I said, Go Rival, and Decide Whether you'ave more respect from Almahide Than I. —

—Then strait again my Head Was busied about what Alm'hide said: Scanning her Words, (cry'd I) And never Deem, But Almahide for Ponce has esteem! First, she does bid me banish all surmise That my base Rival's precious in her Eyes; Next Conjures me to Live; and then again, Tells me she holds my Rival in Disdain: And to conclude; she adds; Ponce! as due, My Heart and all reserved is for you:

Ye Heav'ns, ye Orbs, ye Sun, ye Moon, ye Stars! Is not this better than to live in fears, That Heav'n knows who should Rob my Soul of this, Which is to me, a more Desirous Bliss Than Tongue can Wish for? —

—Jove! (continu'd I) I'll offer up for this Felicity Thou hast Vouchsafed, Hecatombs of Praise, So long as here below I spend my Dayes.

But, Ponce, (added I) since were you stand, Your Life was sav'd by Alm'hide's tender Hand, Canst thou do less, than Celebrate her Fame, With Poems on her Beauty, Parts, and Name; Whereat I took my Pencil, as I sate, And thus did Scribble in my Book of Slate:

On His ALMAHIDE.

WIth what compos'd Serenity of Mind, (And free from Noise) should I my self retire Into some lonely Place, where none can find Me out, Angelick Beauty to Admire; There please my self, with what my Eyes have seen; Virtue and Beauty, like a Murm'ring Stream, Has lull'd my Soul asleep in Love's soft Arms, And lockt it up from Perturbations free; For I could not resist Love's Magick Charms, So I Love Thee!

When on your Heav'nly Beauty first I gaz'd, My Senses were insensibly betray'd; The more I lookt, the more I was amaz'd, Then to behold with my frail Eyes a Maid, A Petty-goddess of Diana's Train; I mus'd a while, and then I lookt again; Thinking a Mist my Eyes had over-cast, And that it was Minerva I did see; But when it vanish'd like unto 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Blast, I saw 'twas Thee!

I saw 'twas who? 'twas she, whose pleasant Look, Sometimes is like unto a Sea of Milk, (To lull asleep) and oft a Curled Brook; Her Eyes like Stars, her Lips more soft than Silk; Her Cheeks as Roses in a Lovely hue; Her Neck a stately Pyramid of Snow; Her Alabaster Brests with Coral Tips, Her tap'ring Wast descending down hard by The place of Bliss! —where both her twinny Hips Holds Symetry!

The rest b'ing hid, I cannot well Discover; But, sure, within that unwrought Mine doth lye An Oar more Rich, than that which ev'ry Lover (Well skill'd in Minerals) do find and Try: She's, Goddess-like, most Fair, Discreet, and Young, Endow'd with Wit, and an harmonious Tongue: Nature has made her Perfect; every Grace Thro' her Delicious Body, seems to meet ••n ev'ry Limb, but Centers in her Face As Beauty's Seat;

— Here I broke off, saying; since Almahide Has sav'd my Life, and giv'n her Heart beside, Freed me from horrid Fears, and Jealousie That Infantada would my Rival be; Once more I'll Recompence that stately Pride, With Love-Revenge on my

— Fair ALMAHIDE!

WHen with my greedy Eyes, I gaze and state On thy Delicious Curled Locks of Hair: When I (repell'd) Sedately take a View Of thy Love's-seat, divine Majestick Brow: When I from thence observe your rowling Eyes, More full of Flame, than Lightning in the Skies: When I behold your lovely Cheeks, and Nose, More fair than Tulip, Lilly, Pink, or Rose; Thy Lips Vermilion-red: thy Teeth, within Thy Oval Mouth, like to a Troop: thy Chin The last Ascent unto th'increasing Bliss, Begot (by sipping Souls) at ev'ry Kiss: Thy Neck, Snow-white, a Pillar seems to be: Thy lovely Sholders grac'd with Ivory: Thy two chaste Icey Fires, those downey Brests, Where Love oft Nibling, falls asleep, and rests:

Thy Arms, thy Hands, thy Waste, thy Hips most neat: Thy Bliss! — thy Thighs, thy Legs, thy nimble Feet! I say, when in this Paradice I gaze, Your Locks intangle me within a Maze; When striving to resist, your Brows do frown, Whilst your bright Eyes do gently knock me down; At which, Compassion in your Cheeks, discovers, Your Lips sweet Cordials are for fainting Lovers; Then, gath'ring strength, about your Neck I'll fall, And pull thee down t'revenge my self for all: But if your Iv'ry Sholders won't comply, I'll sink for shame into the Flames hard by; Where, Dying, I will Live, till thence displac't, I must remove to 'twine thy slender Waste; But if no Durance there, I will retreat To try each beauteous Part from Head to Feet; No Eddy, Current, Channel, I will miss, Until I Anchor in thy Port of Bliss!

—Just as I'ad done, my Soul was strucken mute With th'unexpected playing on a Flute; Whereat, I stoo'd stock still, and gazing round, Listned withal, to hear from whence the sound Deriv'd; when instantly on t'other side The Bank, (within a Thicket, which could hide Some Numbers there) I saw my Rival Duke Sit Melancholly playing on his Flute: Desirous to know th'Intriegue, I lay Perdue i'th' Hedge, to hear what he would say, When ceasing playing on his Flute, he cry'd, Heavens! I sha'nt injoy fair Almahide! Ponce de Leon, to Increase my smart, Has got Possession in her tender Heart!— —And then he fetcht a Sigh; and thus did say, O wretched, wretched Duke 'f Infantada!

Suppose you were t'injoy her, could you find Your Conscience sear'd so much, as not to mind The solemn Protestations that you'ave made Unto that innocent Countess, by you led, With Hellish flatt'ring Falsities, aside, Before you ever saw fair Almahide? Ah! wretched, miserable Duke, (cry'd he) More just a Punishment from th' Deity, Could never light upon a worser Man than thee! How oft have foreign Beauties made Resort To Masks and Balls, within this spacious Court? And ha'nt as oft my Treach'ry plaid it's part, By striving to allure each innocent Heart, With the like Imprecations made to One, As to the Second, till the Third came on? Ye Heav'ns! how many Beauties, (added he) Have I deceived with damn'd Flattery? When the worst She, that living is this Day, Deserves a better than Infantada!

Here pausing, he lay still some time, whilst I Observ'd with Pleasure all his Misery: — And then arising, with a mournful Tone, And languid Looks, he Sung the following

SONG.

THat which most call brisk and Jolly, Makes my Spirits Melancholly: That which some call black Dispair, Is to me a Heaven Fair; And in short there's nothing can Make me like to other Men; For I find that I shall have, Instead of Heav'n, a Hell to be my Grave!

—Too light a Punishment, (said I within My silent Brest) for such a Crimson Sin As you are guilty of:— Whilst perjur'd he, Dispairing, curst himself, and's Pedigree: But then, again recov'ring somewhat better His Sense, he pulled out this following Letter.

To the Duke of Infantada!

SEIGNEUR!

FOR the gods sake, regard the many irreiterated Promises and Oathes made to your passionate Amoretta, when she frankly resign'd up all the strong Holds of Love to your endeared Embraces, which ought to have been kept most Sacred and Inviolable: There∣fore expose not your Person to so dangerous a War, when you may feast your self peaceably in her Arms: For the time draws near, wherein Nature will mischievously manifest to the view of all, the events of our Amorous Passions, without you take speedy care to Mar∣ry your Distressed Countess

AMORETTA.

And this so passionately he Read aloud, That ev'ry Word thereof I understood; And when he'ad done, his poys'nous Soul gave way To moderate his Grief, and thus did say; 'Tis true, fair Amoretta, Heav'n does know, I once to you an ar'drous Love did show; But nothing of Reality I meant, Concerning Marriage, 'xcept a base intent To violate your Chastity, therefore I cannot Love the Amoretta more: What would you have me say? I'd rather dwell Hereafter in the hottest Flames of Hell, Than keep those Vows so often to you made, After I had your Innocence betray'd! My Fancy's fled from thee, and does abide (Perhaps much like the Wind) on Almahide!

Here he did stamp upon the Ground, then Swore Love was Damnation, and his Hair he tore; Till with the Passion, weary of his Life, He calmly breathed forth this Love-sick

SIGH.

AH! wretched, rigid Fate, I see it is too Late: Repentance now won't do; For Cursed Fortune, you Have all along Sung to my Soul that Song Call'd Love the Fair, And now I plainly see It brings on Misery Instead of Bliss; and 'stead of Hope, Dispair!

—No sooner had he ended this; but I Perceiv'd him start at somewhat drawing nigh; Whereat I rose a little, and saw clear A Lady much Dejected 'proaching near, To whom the Duke made up, and thus did say; Madam! how came you to retire this way? Does Melancholly o'er your Vitals reign? If so, then tell thy Grief, and ease thy Pain

Alas! (cry'd she) my drooping Spirits fail, My fault'ring Tongue can't tell that Love-sick Tale My pale-fac'd Aspect thus does Represent: — But, would you know my Grief, (and on she went) The same proceeds from Love! —

Madam! (continued he) for Heav'ns sake, pray, To whom does thus your Soul Love's homage pay? Or, what proud Mortal is it that can slight A Nymph so fair, whose Beauty shines more bright Than Sol's Coelestial Rays? speak am'rous Soul; — (Whereat my Spirits, which before were cool,

Began to be inflam'd to such a Pitch, That I had like t'have stragled o'er the Ditch, Had it not been considerably too Wide: —) But presently the Lady thus Reply'd; Then give me leave to speak, my Heart does sue At Venus shrine, the Oracle is You; 'Tis you, great Sir, th' Accomplish'd of your Sex, I do adore, beyond th' immortal gods! Whose charming Presence does imprint my Soul With Love-sick Passions — Bless me! (cry'd the Duke) Am I the Object? chear up thy drooping Soul? — How can I master Grief, if you will Rowl (Said she) your Person on a dung'rous War; What! to have all my Life, my Hopes, expos'd To Heav'ns wide Canopy? The gods forbid The Protasis of your intent should pass On farther to an Epitasis, Which, in the End, may prove a dire Catastrophe.

Madam! (cry'd he) if any can deter My seeking Glory in the Camp of War, 'Tis you — 'Tis your bright Load-stone twinkling Stars, That shall with-draw me from their bloody Scars; You are my Bliss! — Come, let's then lay aside Such vain Disponding Thoughts, Love's breach is Wide; We'll enter then, and take a sweet Repast In Love's Arcadia, till one Hour doth waste! —

Ah, Sir! (continued she) might I believe Such Heav'n distilling Words, they'd make me Live For ever Happy! —

Yes; (said he) you may; Then Thanks to Heav'n (cry'd she) I'ave seen this Day! Come dearest Jewel, which my Soul admires, Take now an ar'drous Kiss, mix'd with Love's Fires, I wholly do Devote my Life, my All Ʋnto your tender Care, I come, I fall: —

And so she fell about his Neck, and Cry'd, (Swooning in's Arms) let us not here abide:

— Whereat the Duke and she soon vanish'd quite, Amongst the Thickets, from my greedy Sight. And then Considering no fear might 'bide Thence forward in my Brest for Almahide; I gave Great Jove, (who always heard my Call) Promise to Offer up the Tenths of all My Wealth, as Sacrifice, till Almahide Was made by Heaven, happy Ponce's Bride. Which done, I took my Sword, and Gloves in Hand, To go and wait on Almahide's Command, When instantly, before one step I'ad given, I stopt was by a Shrick that fled to'ards Heaven; Whereat I drew my Sword, hearing a Noise, Dismally sounding like a Lady's Voice, (Coming from whence I saw the Duke, and she Retire to injoy Felicity) And run like to a Fury, with my Sword Drawn naked in my Hand, for to afford Help to distressed; yet I could not fly So quick, but that this bloody Tragedy Was e'en expir'd; When I heard one say; Ah! cruel, Monster Duke 'f Infantada! I here appeal to all the gods above, If ever innocent Hortoria's Love Was false to thee: Or, ever did suggest Such Damn'd designs cou'd Harbour in thy Brest! Thus to entice my Virtue all along, With inward Rancor, and a flart'ring Tongue! Injoy my Body! and without true Cause Of Jealousie, to violate Nature's Laws, And Rid me of my Life, by so unjust A means! —Ah! bloody Duke, expect thou must, And shall live in the hottest Flames of Hell, When that Hortoria with the gods will dwell.

And here methoughts her Soul sent forth a Shriek. Enough to make the flintiest Heart to break; And then I came in Sight, and saw the Duke Lifting his Arm to give the fatal stroke: Whereat I cry'd aloud, Thou hellish Fiend; Thou Cowardly trait'rous Dog, with-hold thy Hand! At which, he turn'd about with looks agast, (But not regarding) stab'd her thro' the Brest: No sooner had he giv'n the Blow, but I Came up, and saw the fair Hortoria lye Along the Grass, with both her Arms out-spread, And hair dishevell'd hanging 'bout her Head; Her Rosie Cheeks which often flam'd, were gone To hide themselves in Death's pale Horizon; The Tears which just before were shed, did lye Congeal'd like Pearls about each ghastly Eye; Her Brests lay Naked, and expos'd to view, Sev'n blooody Stabs, dy'd in a Crimson hue, Giv'n by the Duke. When as her glimm'ring sight, With a deep Groan, began to take it's flight; She 'spy'd me out, and mournfully did say, Revenge me on the Duke 'f Infantada! And so her Soul and Body, both did part, Enough to melt in Tears the hardest Heart.

No sooner had sh'expired, but I burn'd With Choller 'gainst the Duke, and to him turn'd; Bespeaking thus; Thou monstrous Villain! how Could you unnaturally those Hands imbrew In the warm Blood of her, to whom you'ave Swore Often, you never did the gods adore More times than she, nor ne'er lov'd Lady more. Does this become a Duke? How can you 'spye The fair Hortoria, whom you'ave flatter'd, lye In Crimson Streams of Blood, and not Confess Damnation is your due, not Happiness?

Come perjur'd Wretch, (said I) prepare to go And fry with Devils in the Lake below.— Whereat, I drew, whilst he, (with both his Eyes Sprinkled with Blood from the late Sacrifice) View'd well my Person, boldly saying, Who Is he that I must give account unto, For what I'ave done? Villain! (continued I) I'm he that will revenge this Tragedy? And so we both encountred, and did fight Near half an hour, till, with all my might, (Managing dextrously my Passes well) I ran him thro' the Groin and down he fell; Whereat, to free him from a lingring smart, My Sword was just a going to pierce his Heart, When he cry'd out; Withold thy Hand, whilst I Confess with dying Words, this Cruelty! At which, I stopt, whilst he did faintly say, I am the dying Duke 'f Infantada: The Lady which you see, I have destroy'd, Was by my perjur'd, flatt'ring Tongue decoy'd: True, 'tis she lov'd me; and I thereupon Promis'd her Marriage sev'ral Months agon; But ne'er intended she should be my Bride, So soon as I had seen fair Almahide; Nor was she singular, for I'ave beguil'd Fair Amoretta, and she's now with Child: Therefore, as justly due, great Jove has sent From Heav'n too moderate a Punishment On such a damned Miscreant as I, For dealing all along so treach'rously! Sheathe up your Sword, (cry'd he) for lo! I feel Death's pangs apace within my Brest to Steal. Ad••eu, fair Almahide! let Ponce have, As hi•• ••ust right, (said he) that lovely Slave; And may the innocent Amoretta find, 'Tis better for her she is left behind;

I never lov'd her, but with flattery, To steal away the Pearl Virginity! — And then, as welt'ring in a Gore, he lay, His Cheeks became more cold than Ice, or s••lay; Pale Horror siez'd his Lips instead o'th' Rose, And Death, with's Icey Fingers, pinch'd his Nose: His Tongue, that faulter'd from it's wonted Note, And every Breath did Rattle in his Throat; When even spent he fetcht a piteous Cry, And thus Reflected on his Destiny: Ah! cruel, barb'rous Duke 'f Infantada! Dost thou not see, the gods are just t'repay Vengeance to those, whose evil Actions merit No other than a place with Devils t'inherit? And then, with Tears in's Eyes, he Cry'd, I see Abused Time lists up his Scythe at me:

Death swiftly, with his Sable Wings, Approaches near, t'unnerve the Springs Of my o'erwhelmed Life! His Glass Tells me my Minutes swift do pass: Nor would I value Death, but I A far more blacker Scene espy; Hell is presented 'fore my Eyes, With all th'infernal Deities.

And here his Spirit Groan'd, and Limbs did shake So frightfully, as made my Heart to Ach. And then again, he very faintly cry'd, (Not knowing me) Adieu, fair Almahide: No doubt but that Felicity she'll have, When Ponce does injoy that harmless Slave.

Farewell fond circling Arms, With all your leach'rous Charms; For whom base I A perjur'd Wretch became, Only one Minutes Flame Of Lust t'injoy;

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉〈1 page duplicate〉

For which I'ave damn'd my Soul. and have Untimely brought my Body to the Grave.

And here his ghostly Eyes did rowl about, Foretelling that the Soul, was going out From a dark Prison, when he sadly cry'd, Oh! wretched Duke! so clos'd his Eyes and Dy'd.

— Thus fled th'immatchless wicked Soul away Of the most cruel Duke 'f Infantada: — Tho' both being Dead, my Soul was gall'd to see Hortoria Butchered so Cruelly; And gazing on her Wounds which scarce were cold, I spy'd beneath one Pap a Heart of Gold; Bleeding as 'twere (b'ing wounded with a Dart,) Bearing this Motto; The Duke must Cure my Smart. Ah! innocent Lady, (added I) this Cure You have received from his Hands impure, You little thought of; but withal, 'thas sent Your Soul to Heav'n, and his to Punishment.

Those words no sooner utter'd, but my Eyes Had for their Objects, hellish Deities, With flaming Torches, all attended by Cerb'rus to Howl at some solemnity; Each Devil had a Taper in his Fist, Ty'd fast to Snakes, which twined round his Wrist; In th' other Paw was held a whip of Wire Knotted with brimstone Streams, and frigid Fire. In th' middle crawl'd six Imps of Hell, whose Backs Expos'd to view a Thousand sorts of Racks, Besides a Red-hot Grid-Iron, and a Chain Link'd fast with Scorpions to increase the Pain; After them limp'd an ugly Massy Fiend Bearing a Trunk, which made his Sholders bend, From whence did usher out most piteous Grones, To which he join'd in Chorus hellish Tones: Upon the Trunk was Writ; Within's Confin'd Conscience let loose upon a desp'rate mind:

After him prancing came six Horses, who (With foaming Mouthes) a Sable Chariot drew, In it sat Pluto, King of Hell, who had A Crown of Ebony upon his Head; And, for a Scepter, in his Left-hand, he (But in the Right, a Rod) did hold a Key. Next the three Goddesses, the Furies came, Brandishing Torches; which were set on Flame By Justice; and design'd (most fit) at first, To Lash the Consciences of Souls who're Curst; And then a multitude of Devils run, With Brands of Fire so thick, s' obscur'd the Sun: Which made me strongly fancy, that the World, With all therein, was going to be hurl'd Down to the lowest Shades of Hell, to be Seal'd down with Devils to Eternity: At which, I thought 'twas time to go away; And just as I was moving, one cry'd, Stay? Turning my self about, to see who spoke, Pluto descended in a Cloud of Smoke, Bespeaking thus; (turning to me withall —

SIR!

I O'er the lower Regions reign as King, And by a higher Commission, here do bring (For an Example) my infernal Crew, To take and Carbonade what is my Due; So soon as sinful Man falls down and dyes, So soon his wretched Soul with horror flyes, Before it's Judge, where Conscience strait obtains A Mittimus to bind the Soul in Chains, And haul it down before m'Imperial Seat, Justly, t'receive a Punishment so great As e'er it's Crimes were big: Behold, (said he, Pointing unto the Trunk, his Scepter'd Key)

Within that Trunk a naked Soul lyes, stript Of all Relief, and by it's Conscience Whipt. Hark! how it Groans under a Burden, which Compounded's up with Floods of boiling Pitch; Which brings so many perjur'd Oathes to sight, As none can tell the horror of it right: This is the Carcass of that Soul, which lyes Lock'd under damn'd dispairing Agonies; Of which Possession I am come to take, And carry Soul and Body to that Lake, Where it will see, no difference I can show 'Twixt high-born Princes, and the Peasants low. Stand still: (and you shall see all ended soon) For 'tis not in my Pow'r to do you wrong; Virtue I never touch; for that I hate As bad as Poyson; 'Tis Vice, on which I bate, And feast my Paunch: And therefore, Sir, as due, Thanks for this Morsel I return to you.

No sooner was this done, but quickly he Went to the Trunk, and putting in his Key, Unlock'd the same; whereat, a hellish shout Welcom'd the tortur'd Soul and Conscience out; Who fiercely flew to sieze upon their Prey, (The Carcass of my Rival Duke) who lay Besmear'd with Blood. No sooner had he took Possession, but the Body strait awoke, And trembling stood, gnashing it's Teeth thro' Fear, Whilst Devils with their Prongs the Flesh did Tare: A Vulture siez'd his Bowels; and his Tongue (Foaming beneath his Chin) some Inches hung: His Eyes to me seem'd Ovens; and his Throat Cerberus tore with a damn'd howling Note: And here, methoughts, Compassion siez'd my Soul, And mov'd me much his misery to Condole;

But all too late; for greedily he stood, Sucking, thro' Thirst, his very own Hearts-blood: Which made the Devil offer him a Cup Of boyling-brimstone, mixt with Pitch, to Sup; The which his Thirsty Tongue lapp'd up so fast, That he had like t'have drank the Cup for hast, Had it not been united to a Chain, By which the Devil pull'd it back again: This made me very curious to know What sort of Liquor 'twas he goggl'd so; And then I gave the Devil a Word and Wink, Who said, 'twas Call'd, Damnation Dyet-Drink. And then they dragg'd him to the Grid-Iron, where His Soul did belch forth nothing but Dispair. Heavens! what horror was his Conscience in? How did his quicken'd Memory begin To call to mind, the many Curst Intriegues, The Falshoods, Flatteries, and broken Leagues: The Oathes, the Vows, with which he did betray Fair Amoretta and Hortoria? Tongue cannot tell th'Extremity of Pain This Soul was in, when Pluto took a Chain, And sternly lock'd it to the Grid-Iron, when His Vassals took it on their Backs agen; Marching away, whilst the three Furies came Lashing the back of Conscience with a Flame: Next stifled Conscience pressing to obtain Some Respite, gall'd the Soul with horrid Pain: The Soul, that fell upon the Body, and Fretted it's Vitals with a racking Band Of Lusts and Pleasures, (called once, Delight) Which forc'd his gnashing poys'nous Teeth, to bite It's Ven'mous Tongue. And thus this hellish Crew, In damn'd Disorder, to the place with-drew, From whence I saw 'em come; where, at a stay, In Smoke these Devils vanish'd quite away.

Bless me! you cannot guess what great surprise My Soul was left in, when these Deities Sunk with my Rival Duke amidst their Paws, Beneath the Earth into Hell's gaping Jaws! Nor was my Senses to be govern'd by That Reason now, to which they us'd to lye Prostrate before: Had not a num'rous Train Of glorious Angels, clear'd the Air again: Calm'd all my Turb'lent Thoughts, and brought my sight To feast on Objects full of choice Delight.

Just as you'ave seen, a weeping Lady lye Prostrate before her Lord, condemn'd to dye; When nothing else is lookt for, but to see The Execution done immediately; When at the very instant that the Blow Is to be keenly struck, there comes one, who Has Orders from the King to save his Life: Can you imagine how the ravish'd Wife, Transported is with Joy? Her Sorrows look No more within the Leaves of Death's pale Book, But all the Scene is past; when, thro' the Charms Of Joy Extatic, she Swoons within the Arms Of her dear Lord; who with a soft Imbrace, Kisses the Pearly drops from off her Face; Which chears her fainting Spirits, and inspires Into her glowing Brest, more ard'rous Fires.

So Joy transported all my Senses, when The Hemisphere from Clouds was freed agen: Instead of seeing sulph'rous Devils roast A damned Soul, my Eyes beheld a Host Of flitting Spirits, coming from above, To carry fair Hortoria to Jove. First flew a Seraphim with Roses sweet, To strow upon Hortoria's Head and Feet:

Next came two Cherubims, whose Faces shone So gloriously transparant like the Sun, Each of them bearing Flags of white to show 'Twas Peace they brought unto the Corps below. Presently after them most gently flew A glorious Orb of Happiness, that shew, Ingrav'd upon the top, these Words in Gold; Permanent Happiness is never Sold, Nor Bought by Mortals; those who wou'd it have, Must first Repentance for their Actions crave! Then came a pretious Chariot, in the which Was sate a King, whose Garments seem'd more rich, Than ever from the Costly Indies came; With Pearls and Rubies stuck about the same, Most gorgeously. The Chariot was drawn By six fine Steeds, Trapp'd up in milk-white Lawn. Heavens! I fell amaz'd to see this sight! How gloriously each shone like Chrystal bright: Down from his Chariot, quick he did ascend, And took the speechless Lady, by the Hand; Saying Arise! at which sh'awoke, when he Most gently rais'd her up, and cry'd, Come, see The Recompence that is prepar'd for you? And so they to the Chariot both with-drew. Bless me! what Musick did these Spirits make? How did the Seraphims and Cherubs quake And Quiv'r in Chorus, when Hortoria fair Was in the Chariot cutting thro' the Air. The Banners were Displaid; the Orb that plac't It's self within the Center of her Brest, How did she shine in Beauty! Every part Throughout her Body, was refin'd 'bove Art, Lovely Meanders deckt her azure Veins, And Virtues hung about her Neck like Chains Of Gold. In fine Hortoria seem'd to be Of Heav'n's abode, a large Epitome.

And up the Chariot, with it's num'rous Train More swift than Time, to'ards Heaven soar'd again.

All being o'er, and nothing to be seen But my transported self within the Green, Then my revolving Thoughts began to call Over again, (with more Sedateness) all The past Transactions, till methoughts, the Day Cry'd loudly in my Ears to hast away. Wherat I turned to the Path, and hy'd, With all Celerity to'ards Almahide: But scarce had I Three Furlongs went, before I spy'd a Lady with her Hair all tore About her naked Brests; her Hands, and Eyes Lift up, imploring of the Deities: Ye mighty Pow'rs! Ah! won't ye Slay, and Damn That base, perfidious, perjur'd Creature Man? Whose Oathes are only Rhetorick, t'entice Innocent Virgins to the Snares of Vice! Heav'ns Confound 'em all! — (cry'd she) And here Stopping, she turn'd about, and saw me near; When up she 'rose, and ran so fast, until Ev'n out of breath, upon a bank she fell; To whom I hasten'd up, Crying out, Why, Madam, do you Invoke the Deity To pour down Vengeance on us Mortals, when 'Tis but some few, perfidious, wretched Men, (As you do term 'em) that have thus betray'd Your Sex's Virtue; and as dearly paid For ev'ry jot.— To which she nothing said, But look'd Severe; when quickly to her aid Some Ladies came, giving me t'understand, That she was Amoretta's Sister; and How being by Infantada beguil'd, Thro' Grief had poyson'd both her self and Child. Whereat I told 'em All, and bid 'em tell Her ev'ry Circumstance that had befel

The wretched Duke. And then again I hy'd, T'enjoy, and feast my self with Almahide; Where I no sooner was arriv'd, and had Access into her Chamber, but she said, (After some chaste Imbraces) Ponce! Tell Me now, I do Conjure you, what befell The Duke and You? — At which, b'ing fearful lest A rash Account might discompose her brest, And tend to bad Effect, briskly reply'd, Nothing material, fair Almahide. And to divert her from so black a Scene, I made this Love-Digression intervene.

MAdam,! I must not tell you, that you are (Like Flatterers) than Cynthia far more fair; But I must tell you, Madam, what is true, I ne'er saw Beauty 'fore I gaz'd on you.

I cannot say, That from your rowling Eyes Two scorching, am'rous Flames like Lightning flyes: But I may truly say, That they inhance Magick enough t'inslave with one Half-Glance.

I dare not tell you, that your Cheeks so Fair, Have Smiles enough an Angel to insnare: But I dare tell you, That they seem to be Two Rosey beds, each side an Iv'ry Tree.

I will not say, Your Lips, Vermilion dye! For then, upon my Honour, I should lye: But this I'll say, They're Roses 'round a Well, Which do invite my Soul to Sip and Smell.

I ought not for to tell you, That your Brests Are Altars, on the which Two Robins nests: But this I ought to tell you, as my Duty, They are the tend'rest Banks of all your Beauty.

I shall not farther in your Garden pry, For fear I fall into an Extasie: But, Madam, I shall guess you are Compleat From your Corona, to your very Feet.

But yet, half-pleas'd, she forc'd me to Obey, And tell so much as made her Swoon away, When in my Arms I often Kiss'd her, till Some Ladies came, and forc'd me, 'gainst my Will, To leave the Chamber, whilst, with Cordials, they Retriev'd her Sense, as on a Coach she lay. When being by my self admitted in, And found her Slumbring, thus I did begin —

SLeep, Alm'hide, Sleep, until thy bliss∣ful Lover robs thee of a Kiss Whilst he with Steps, observ'd by Care, Approaches gladly to thy Chair: Venus, the Feathe••s from thy Doves Pull, and bestrow them like to Groves; That walking, I no Noise may make, For fear lest Almahide awake. Inspire her glowing Chee••s with heat, That Cupid may's Alarumn beat; And when the Ardor does begin, Let it not terminate in Sin; But Chast and Holy let all be, Devoted to the Shrine of thee.

Lo! now I come, my Dear be still, For I'll do nought against thy Will: I'll touch thy Ruby Lips; and Vie The motions of each Starry Eye; Observe, i•• they be Sealed fast; If so, then let our Ardor last With equal glowing Heat; 'till she Wakes, says Enough, thro' Modesty.

And then I kiss'd her Sug'red Lips, till Chance, By Startling her, rous'd me out of my Trance.

FINIS.