The Argument. The Victor is (when with his wounds subdu'd) By such deform'd and dismal Troops pursu'd, That he thinks Death, than which they uglier seem, No ill expedient to escape from them. ButUlfinguids him to sageAstragon, By the last Rays of the descending Sun.
1. SCarce on their Duke their fears kind fit was spent, When strait a thick arm'd Squadron clouds their sight, Which cast so dark a shade, as if it meant Without the Suns slow leave, to bring in night.
2. This threatning Squadron did consist of Horse, And by old Ulfin they were gravely led, Whose mind was sound, nor wants his Body force, Though many Winters Snow had coold his head.
3. The sad remainder who with Hubert went, Did miss his reach, when they to Brescia turn'd, And now (as if his haste destruction meant) He chac'd these who the Dukes spent valour mourn'd.
4. Whose posture being loose, their number few, His Scouts grow scornfull as they forward come, He makes his Squadron halt, and near he drew, Then asks aloud, what are you, and for whom?
5. The noble Goltho (whose great deeds to day Prevented Manhood in his early youth) Believ'd him Oswald's Friend, yet scorn'd the way To shelter life, behind abandon'd Truth.
6. For he to Ulfin boldly thus reply'd, This second Ambush finds us here in vain; We have no treasure left that we would hide, Since Gondibert is reckon'd with the slain.
7. Duke Gondibert we vouch to be our Lord, To whose high virtues Sov'raignty we bow; Oswald sunk low, as death, beneath his Sword, Though him superiour Fate will vanquish now.
8. Scarce empty Eagles stooping to their prey, Could be more swift than Ulfin to alight, And come where Gondibert expiring lay; Now pleasing those whom he did newly fright.
9. For scarce that rev'rence which a Monarch draws, Who seldom will be seen, though often sought; Who spends his carefull age in making Laws, To rule those lands for which in youth he fought.
10. Nor that respect which People pay those Kings, Whose peace makes rich, whom civil war made wise, Can equal this which aged Ulfin brings The gentle Duke, to whom he prostrate lies.
11. His Eyes (not us'd to tears) bathe ev'ry wound; Which he salutes as things he chiefly lov'd; And when expence of spirits he had found, To gain him air, his Mourners he remov'd.
12. Make way, said he, and give Experience room, The Confident of age, though Youth's scorn'd guide, My wounds, though past, out number yours to come, You can but hope the knowledge I have try'd.
13. His Hilts round Pommel he did then unskrew, And thence (which he from ancient Precept wore) In a small Chrystal he a Cordial drew, That weary life could to her walks restore.
14. This care (amazing all it does delight) His ruins, which so reverend appear, With wonder not so much surprise their sight, As a strange object now his Troops draw near.
15. In whom such death and want of limbs they find, As each were lately call'd out of his Tomb, And left some members hastily behind, Or came, when born, abortive from the Womb.
16. Yet this defect of Legs, or Arms, or Hands, Did wondring valour not disturb, but please; To see what divers weapons each commands With arts hard shifts, till custom gave them ease.
17. But the uncomely absence of an Eye, And larger wants, which ev'ry visage mourn'd, (Where black did over-vail, or ill supply) Was that which wonder into horrid turn'd.
18. And Ulfin might be thought (when the rude wind Lifting their Curtains, left their ruins bare) A formal Antiquary, gravely kind To Statues, which he now drew out to air.
19. The Duke (whose absent knowledge was call'd back By Cordials pow'r) his wonder did increase So much, that he agen did knowledge lack, Till thus old Ulfin made his wonder cease.
20. Auspicious Prince! recorded be this day, And sung by Priests of each ensuing Age; On which thou may'st receive, and I may pay Some debts of duty, as thy Grandsires Page.
21. That mighty Chief I serv'd in youth's first strength, Who our short Scepter meant to stretch so far, Till Eastern Kings might grieve theirs wanted length, Whose Maps scarce teach where all their Subjects are.
22. Full many stormy winters we have seen, When kindled Valour's heat was all our fire, Else we in stupid Frosts had fetter'd been, By which soft sinews are congeal'd to wire.
23. And many scorching Summers we have felt, Where Death relieves all whom the sword invades; And kindly thence (where we should toyling melt) Leads us to rest beneath eternal shades.
24. For aid of action he obedience taught, And silent patience for afflictions cure: He prais'd my courage when I boldly fought, But said, They conquer most, that most endure.
25. The toyls of diligence as much approv'd As Valour's self, or th'Arts her practise gains; The care of Men, more than of glory lov'd, Success rewarded, and successless pains.
26. To joyfull Victors quenching water sent, Delightfull wine to their lamenting slaves; For Feasts have more brave lives than Famine spent, And Temp'rance more than Trench or Armour saves.
27. Valour his Mistress, Caution was his Friend; Both to their diff'rent seasons he appli'd; The first he lov'd, on th'other did depend; The first made worth uneasie by her pride.
28. He to submiss devotion more was given After a battel gain'd, than ere 'twas fought; As if it nobler were to thank high Heav'n For favours past, than bow for bounty sought.
29. And thus through smarting heat, and aking cold, Till Heav'ns perpetual Traveller had more Than thirty journeys through the Zodiack told, I serv'd thy Grandsire, whom I now adore.
30. For Heav'n in his too ripe and weary age, Call'd him, where peacefully he rules a Star; Free'd from the lower El'ments ceaseless rage, Which last like Monarchs pow'r by needfull war.
31. Strait thy lamented Father did succeed To his high place, by Aribert's consent, Our Ensigns through remoter Lands to lead: Him too I follow'd till he upward went.
32. Till that black day on which the Hunns may boast Their own defeat, and we our conquest hide; For though we gain'd, and they the battel lost, Yet then thy brave victorious Father dy'd.
33. And I am stay'd unwillingly behind; Not caught with wealth, Life's most intangling snare; Though both my Masters were in giving kind, As joyfull Victors after Battel are.
34. Whilst thus this aged Leader does express His and their Story whom his bounty feeds, His hands the Duke's worst order'd wounds undress And gently bind; then strait he thus proceeds.
35. West from those Hills till you Cremona reach, With an unmingled right I gather rent; By their great Gift who did such precepts teach In giving, as their wealth is ne'r misspent.
36. For as their plenteous pity fills my thought, So their example was not read in vain; A Thousand, who for them in battel fought, And now distress'd with Maims, I entertain:
37. Not giving like to those, whose gifts, though scant, Pain them, as if they gave with gowty hand; Such vex themselves, and ease not others want; But we alike enjoy, a like command.
38. Most spaciously we dwell, where we possess All sinless pleasures Nature did ordain; And who that all may have, yet will have less, Wiser than Nature, thinks her kindness vain.
39. A sad resolve, which is a wise-mans vow, From Cities noise, and Courts unpity'd care Did so divorce me, it would scarce allow I ere should take one League of distant air.
40. But that Alarms from each adjacent part Which borders my abode, disturb'd my rest, With dreadfull news that gracious Gondibert By Oswald's Faction was in fight opprest.
41. Then it had given your wonder cause to last, To see the vex'd mistakes this summons wrought In all my Maim'd Domesticks by their haste, For some tie on the Limbs which others sought.
42. Just such mistakes audacious Ethnicks say Will happen where the Righteous busie are, Through glad and earnest haste in the last day; Whilst others slowly to their doom prepare.
43. And this had Anger, anger noise had bred, And Noise, the Enemy of usefull Thought, Had them to more mistakes than blindness led, But that our awfull Camps had silence taught.
44. Silence did Mem'ry, Mem'ry order make, Order to each did his mist wood restore; For some, who once were stedfast Foot, mistake, And snatch those limbs which onely Horse-men wore.
45. Like swift Pursuers on Arabian Horse, These with their needfull Instruments of hold (Which give their strange adapted weapons force) I mounted strait Five Hundred fully told.
46. These from the Lombards highly have deserv'd, In Conquests where thy Father did command; Whom they for Science and affection serv'd, And lost their Limbs to gain our Scepter Land.
47. Which yet are noble, though unsightly signs, That each in active courage much abounds; And many a widow'd Mother now repines, They cannot shew the Men who gave those wounds.
48. For dearly did the Huns for honour pay, When they deform'd them in a fatal fight; Since though they strongly struggled for the day, Yet all they got, was everlasting Night.
49. And Oswald's Friends, were they not timely gone (Though all the Faction in one Army were) Should mourn this act against their Gen'ral's Son, Who was to Souldiers more than Triumph dear.
50. For these to Conquest us'd, Retreats dislike; Thy beauty want, to others Beauty's cost, With envious rage still at the Face they strike, And punish Youth, for what in youth they lost.
51. Thus, though the Duke's amazement be remov'd, It now returns, gladly on him to gaze, Who feeds those Fighters whom his Father lov'd; A gratitude would Virtue's self amaze.
52. Thou art, said he, (then melted whilst he spake) So ripe in what nice Heav'n does dearly love, That Heav'ns remorse for Earth we should mistake, To think it will forbear thee long above.
53. As if thy sent for Soul already were Upon her Wings, so much I give thee gon; And wish thee left in some Successor here, That might receive the kindness thou hast shown.
54. Old Ulfin now (but meltingly as he) T'inrich him, gives the Jewell of his sight; For strait, with Father's grave authoritie, He bids his son, young Ulfinor alight!
55. Take him (said he) whose duty I release; In whom all Heav'ns rewards included are, For all my Justice in corrupted peace, And for my mercy in revengeful war.
56. The fruit Heav'ns sent me by my loyal wife, In age, the gloomy Eve of endless night; Which eas'd in me the pain of latter life, And frustrates death, by fresh succession's sight.
57. The Duke with passion did this Youth embrace; Then luckie Goltho he call'd forth in view; Who was this day in Fortun's special grace, For though no blood he lost, yet much he drew.
58. Him he with Ulfinor does strait unite; Bids neither strive the other to precede, Unless when danger doth them both invite, But be, even in nice Rivalship agreed.
59. Bids both their Breasts be eithers open book, Where nought is writ too hard for sodain Eies; But thought's plain Text grows easie by a look: Study breeds doubt, where reading should suffice.
60. But these to joyn Nature no Counsel needs; Whom Sympathy, her secret Priest, does wed; Much fam'd will be their loves, and Martial Deeds; Which fill all Books that are of Lombards read.
61. With gracious Eyes, and Bodie lowly bent, The Duke his Fathers rev'rend Troops salutes; To Bergamo He holds his first intent; Which to oppose, old Ulfin thus disputes.
62. Thou seest (my Prince) the faint decays of Light; How hastily the Suns hot Steeds begin To mend their pace, as if their longing sight Had newly spy'd their usual Western Inn.
63. Too far is pleasant Bergamo from hence, Since Day has reach'd so near his journeys end; Days strength and yours are at their last expence; Do not whilst both are wasting, both misspend.
64. You and Your wounded must with Nature strive, Till all (whose few hours sway to day excels Their elder Foes long reign in Camps) arrive Where Astragon the wise and wealthy dwels.
65. Rich is that Lord, and rich in learnings wealth; Art flies his test, he all Art's test endures; Our Cities send their sick to him for health, Our Camps the wounded for their certain cures.
66. Though cautious Nature, check'd by Destinie, Has many secrets she would ne'r impart; This fam'd Philosopher is Natures Spie, And hireless gives th' intelligence to Art.
67. The Duke with virtue (antiquated now) Did rev'rence Counsel, and to Age did bend; His first Course alters, and does this allow; Then Ulfin as their Guide they all attend.
68. Soon they the Pallace reach'd of Astragon; Which had its beauty hid by envious Night, Whose Cypress Curtain drawn before the Sun, Seem'd to perform the Obsequies of light.
69. Yet Light's last rays were not intirely spent, For they discern'd their passage through a Gate, Whose height and space shew'd ancient ornament, And Ancients there in carefull Office sate.
70. Who by their Weights and Measures did record Such num'rous Burdens as were thither brought From distant Regions, to their learned Lord; On which his Chymicks and Distillers wrought.
71. But now their common bus'ness they refrain, When they observe a quiet fullenness And bloody marks in such a civil Train; Which shew'd at once their worth and their distress.
72. The voice of Ulfin they with gladness knew, Whom to this house long neighbourhood indeer'd Approaching Torches perfected their view, And taught the way till Astragon appear'd.
73. Who soon did Ulfin chearfully embrace, The visits cause by whispers he receiv'd; Which first he hop'd was meant him as a grace, But being known, with manly silence griev'd.
74. And then with gestures full of grave respect, The Duke he to his own apartment led; To each distinct retirements did direct, And all the wounded he ordain'd to Bed.
75. Then thin digestive food he did provide, More to enable fleeting strength to stay; To wounds well search'd he cleansing wines apply'd, And so prepar'd his rip'ning Balsoms way.
76. Balm of the Warriour's herb, Hypericon! To warriour's as in use, in form decreed; For through the leaves transparent wounds are shown; And rudely touch'd, the Golden Flower does bleed.
77. For sleep they juice of pale Nymphæa took, Which grows (to shew that it for sleep is good) Near sleep's abode, in the soft murm'ring Brook: This cools, the yellow Flow'r restrains the Bloud:
78. And now the wearie world's great Med'cin, Sleep, This learned Host dispenc'd to ev'ry Guest; Which shuts those wounds where injur'd Lovers weep, And flies Oppressours to relieve th' Opprest.
79. It loves the Corrage, and from Court abstains, It stills the Sea man though the Storm be high; Frees the griev'd Captive in his closest Chains, Stops wants loud Mouth, & blinds the treach'rous Spie!
80. Kind Sleep, Night's welcome Officer, does Seise All whom this House contains till day return; And me, Grief's Chronicler, does gently ease, Who have behind so great a task to mourn.
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