All other parts of pious duty done,
You owe your Ormond nothing but a fon;
To fill in future times his father's place,
And wear the garter of his mother's race.
of old, there liv'd, of mighty fame,
A valiant prince, and Theseus was his name:
A chief, who more in feats of arms excell'd,
The rifing nor the setting fun beheld.
Of Athens he was lord; much land he won,
And added foreign countries to his crown.
In Scythia with the warrior queen he strove,
Whom first by force he conquer'd, then by love;
He brought in triumph back the beauteous dame,
With whom her fifter, fair Emilia, came,
With honour to his home let Theseus ride,
With love to friend, and fortune for his guide,
And his victorious army at his fide.
I pass their warlike pomp, their proud array,
Their shouts, their songs, their welcome on the way :
But, were it not too long, I would recite
The feats of Amazons, the fatal fight
Betwixt the hardy queen, and heroe knight;
The town befieg'd, and how much blood it cost
The female army, and th' Athenian hoft;
The spousals of Hippolita the queen;
What tilts and turneys at the feast were seen ;
The storm at their return, the ladies fear:
But these, and other things, I muft forbear.
The field is spacious I design to fow,
With oxen far unfit to draw the plow :
The remnant of my tale is of a length
To tire your patience, and to waste my strength;
And trivial accidents shall be forborn,
That others may have time to take their turn;
As was at first enjoin'd us by mine hoft :
That he whose tale is best, and pleases moft,
Should win his supper at our common coft.
And therefore where I left, I will pursue
This ancient story, whether false or true,
In hope it may be mended with a new.
The prince I mention'd, full of high renown,
In this array drew near th' Athenian town;
When in his pomp and utmost of his pride,
Marching he chanc'd to cast his eye aside,
And faw a choir of mourning dames, who lay
By two and two across the common way:
At his approach they rais'd a rueful cry,
And beat their breasts, and held their hands on high,
Creeping and crying, till they seiz'd at last
His courser's bridle, and his feet embrac'd.
Tell me, said Theseus, what and whence you are,
And why this funeral pageant you prepare?
Is this the welcome of my worthy deeds,
To meet my triumph in ill-omen'd weeds ?
Or envy you my praise, and would destroy
With grief my pleasures, and pollute my joy?
Or are you injur'd, and demand relief?
Name your request, and I will ease your grief.
The most in years of all the mourning train Began; (but swooned first away for pain) Then scarce recover'd spoke: nor envy we Thy great renown, nor grudge thy victory; 'Tis thine, O king, th' afflicted to redress, And fame has fill'd the world with thy success: We wretched women fue for that alone, Which of thy goodness is refus'd to none; Let fall fome drops of pity on our grief, If what we beg be just, and we deserve relief: For none of us, who now thy grace implore, But held the rank of fovereign queen before; Till thanks to giddy chance, which never bears, That mortal bliss should last for length of years, She caft us headlong from our high estate, And here in hope of thy return we wait : And long have waited in the temple nigh, Built to the gracious goddess Clemency. But rev'rence thou the pow'r whose name it bears, Relieve th' oppress'd, and wipe the widow's tears. I, wretched I, have other fortune seen, The wife of Capaneus, and once a queen : At Thebes he fell; curft be the fatal day 1 And all the rest thou seeft in this array,
To make their moan, their lords in battle loft
Before that town befieg'd by our confed'rate hoft:
But Creon, old and impious, who commands
The Theban city, and ufurps the lands,
Denies the rites of fun'ral fires to those
Whose breathless bodies yet he calls his foes.
Unburn'd, unbury'd, on a heap they lie;
Such is their fate, and fuch his tyranny;
No friend has leave to bear away the dead,
But with their lifeless limbs his hounds are fed :
At this she shriek'd aloud; the mournful train
Echo'd her grief, and grov'ling on the plain,
With groans, and hands upheld, to move his mind,
Befought his pity to their helpless kind!
The prince was touch'd, his tears began to flow,
And, as his tender heart would break in two,
He figh'd; and could not but their fate deplore,
So wretched now, fo fortunate before.
Then lightly from his lofty steed he flew,
And raising one by one the suppliant crew,
To comfort each, full folemnly he swore,
That by the faith which knights to knighthood bore,
And what e'er else to chivalry belongs,
He would not cease, till he reveng'd their wrongs:
That Greece should fee perform'd what he declar'd;
And cruel Creon find his just reward.
He said no more, but, shunning all delay,
Rode on; nor enter'd Athens on his way :
But left his fifter and his queen behind,
And wav'd his royal banner in the wind:
Where in an argent field the god of war
Was drawn triumphant on his iron car;
Red was his sword, and shield, and whole attire,
And all the godhead seem'd to glow with fire;
Ev'n the ground glitter'd where the standard flew,
And the green grass was dy'd to fanguine hue.
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