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

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;

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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 —