[snare;

And I am stay'd unwillingly behind; Not caught with wealth, life's most intangling Though both my masters were in giving kinde, As joyful victors after battel are."

Whilst thus this aged leader does express

His and their story whom this bounty feeds, His hands the duke's worst order'd wounds undress And gently binde; then strait he thus proceeds. "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'er misspent. "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 maimes, I entertain: "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' waut; But we alike enjoy, a like command. "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. "A sad resolve, which is a wise-man's vow,

From citties' noise, and courts' unpitty'd care Did so divorce me, it would scarce allow

I ere should take one league of distant ayre. "But that alarms from each adjacent part Which borders my abode, disturb'd my rest, With dreadful newes that gracious Gondibert

By Oswald's faction was in fight opprest. "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. "Just such mistakes audatious ethnicks say

Will happen, where the righteous busie are, Through glad and earnest hast in the last day; Whilst others slowly to their doom prepare. "And this had anger, anger noise had bred, And noise, the enemy of useful thought, Had them to more mistakes than blindness led, But that our awfull camps had silence taught. "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 only horsemen

wore.

"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. "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, "Which yet are noble though unsightly signes, That each in active courage much abounds; And many a widow'd mother now repines,

They cannot show the men who gave those wounds.

"For dearly did the Hunns for honour pay, When they deform'd them in a fatali fight; Since though they strongly struggled for the day, Yet all they got, was everlasting night.

"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 soldiers more than triumph dear. "For these to conquest us'd, retreats dislike;

They 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." 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 vertue's self amaze. "Thou art," said he (then melted whilst he spake) "So ripe in what high Heav'n does dearly love, That Heav'n's remorse for Earth we should mistake, To think it will forbear thee long above. "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, [shown." That might receive the kindness thou hast Old Ulfin now (but meltingly as he) T'inrich him, gives the jewell of his sight; For strait, with fatherly authority,

He bids his son, young Ulfinor, alight! "Take him," (said he)" whose duty I release; In whom all Heav'n's rewards included are, For all my justice in corrupted peace,

And for my mercy in revengefull war.
"The fruit Heav'n sent me by my loyall 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,"
The duke with passion did this youth embrace;
Then lucky Goltho he call'd forth in view;
Who was this day in Fortune's special grace,
For though no blood he lost, yet much he drew.
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.
Bids both their breasts be either's open book,

Where nought is writ too hard for sudden eyes; But thought's plain text grows easie by a look: Study breeds doubts, where reading should

suffice.

But these to joyn, Nature no councel 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. With gracious eyes, and body lowly bent,

The duke his father's rev'rend troops salutes; To Bergamo he holds his first intent;

Which to oppose, old Ulfin thus disputes. "Thou seest (my prince) the faint decayes of light; How hastily the Sun's hot steeds begin To mend their pace, as if their longing sight Had newly spy'd their usuall western inn. "Too farr is pleasant Bergamo from hence,

Since day has reach'd so neer his journey's end; Day's strength and yours are at their last expence; Do not whilst both are wasting, both misspend. "You and your wounded mast with Nature strive, Till all (whose few houres' sway to day excels Their elder foes' long reign in camps) arrive Where Astragon the wise and wealthy dwe's

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. "Though cautious Nature, check'd by destiny, Has many secrets she would ne'r impart; This fam'd philosopher is Nature's spie,

And hireless gives th' intelligence to Art." The duke with vertue, (antiquated now)

Did rev'rence councel, and to age did bend; His first course altars, and does this allow;

Then Ulfin as their guide they all attend. 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 performe the obsequies of light. Yet light's last rayes 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 careful office sate. Who by their weights and measures did record Such num'rous burthens as were thither brought From distant regions, to their learned lord;

On which his chymies and distillers wrought. But now their common business they refrain, When they observe a quiet sullenness

And bloody marks in such a civil train;

[tress.

Which shew'd at once their worth and their disThe voice of Ulfin they with gladness knew, Whom to this house long neighbourhood

indear'd;

Approaching torches perfected their view,

And taught the way till Astragon appear'd.
Who soon did Ulfia cheerfully imbrace;

The visit's 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.
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.

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. Balm of the warriour's herbe, hypericon!

To warriours as in use, in form decreed; For through the leaves transparent wounds are shown;

And rudely touch'd, the golden flower does bleed. 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 flower restraines the blood:

And now the weary 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 oppressors to relieve th' opprest. It loves the cotage, and from court abstains, It still the sea-man though the storm be high; Frees the griev'd captive in his closest chaines, Stops want's loud mouth, and blinds the treach'rous spie!

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.

And on her peopled bank they might behold
The toyles of conquest paid with works of pride;
The palace of king Agilulf the old,

Or monument, for ere 'twas built he dy'd.
To it that temple joynes, whose lofty head

The prospect of a swelling hill commands; In whose coole wombe the city springs are bred: On Dorique pillers this tall temple stands. This to sooth Heav'n the bloody Clephes built; As if Heav'n's king so soft and easy were, So meanly hous'd in Heav'n, and kind to guilt, That he would be a tyrant's tenant here.

And now they might arrest their wandring sight
With that which makes all other objects lost;
Makes Lombard greatness flat to Roman height,
And modern builders blush, that else would
boast;

An amphytheater which was controll'd
Unheeded conquests of advancing age, [old,
Windes which have made the trembling world look
And the fierce tempests of the Gothick rage.
This great Flaminius did in youth erect,

Where cities sat to see whole armies play
Death's serious part: but this we may neglect,
To mark the bus'ness which begins with day,
As day new op'ning fills the hemisphear,

And all at once; so quickly ev'ry street Does by an instant op'ning full appear, When from their dwellings busy dwellers meet. From wider gates oppressors sally there;

Here creeps th' afflicted through a narrow dore; Groans under wrongs he has not strength to bear, Yet seeks for wealth to injure others more. And here the early lawyer mends his pace; For whom the earlier cliant waited long; Here greedy creditors their debtors chase,

Who scape by herding in th' indebted throng. Th' advent'rous merchant whom a storm did wake, (His ship's on Adriatic billowes tost) Does hope of eastern winds from steeples take, And hastens there a currier to the coast. Here through a secret posterne issues out

The skar'd adult'rer, who out-slept his time; Day, and the husband's spie alike does doubt, And with a half hid face would hide his crime. There from sick mirth neglected feasters reel, Who cares of want in wine's false Lethe steep. There anxious empty gamsters homeward steal, And fear to wake, ere they begin to sleep. Here stooping lab'rers slowly moving are; Beasts to the rich, whose strength grows rude with ease;

And would usurp, did not their rulers' care

With toile and tax their furious strength appease. There th' aged walk, whose needless carefulness Infects them past the mind's best med'cine, sleep; There some to temples early vows address,

And for th' ore busie world most wisely weep. To this vast inn, where tydes of strangers flow, The morn and Hurgonil together came; The morn, whose dewy wings appear'd but slow, When men the motion mark'd of swifter Fame. For Fame (whose journeys are through ways unknown,

Traceless and swift, and changing as the wind) The morn and Hurgonil had much out-gone, Whilst Truth mov'd patiently within behind. For some the combat (to a battel grown)

Did apprehend in such prodigious shape, As if their living to the dead were gone,

And only Fame did by her wings escape. Some said this hunting falsely was design'd, That by pretence both factions might prepare Their armies to contest for Rhodalind;

The crown's chief jewel, and reward of warre,

And some report (so far they range from truth-
Who for intelligence must follow fame)
That then from Bergamo th'incamped youth,

With Gondibert, to this dire hunting came.
And some, that Oswald had infarg'd his traine
With the old troopes by his bold father led;
And that of these the nobler half were slain;
The rest were to their camp at Brescia fled.
And as dire thunder rowling o're Heaven's vault,
By murmure threatens, ere it kills alloud;
So was this fatall newes in whisper brought,
Which menac'd, ere it struck the list'ning croud.
But rumour soon to high extreames does move;
For first it Oswald nam'd with dreadful voice,
Then said that death had widow'd truth and love,
By making Gondibert the second choice.
And to all hearts so dear was Gondibert,

So much did pity Oswald's valour prise, That strait their early bus'ness they desert,

And fix on wounded Hurgonil their eyes.
Him when by perfect day they sadly knew,
Through hidden wounds, whose blood his beauty
stain'd,

Even from the temples, angels soon withdrew;
So sawcely th' afflicted there complain'd.
The people strait united clamour gave, [coast;
Shriek'd loud like sea-men split ou a strange
As if those pow'rs were deaf who should them save,
And pray'rs no louder than the windes were lost.
Now, with impatience urg'd, he does declare
Whom he so mournfully in fun'ral brought;
The publick losses of a private warr,
Who living, love, and dying, valour taught.
For he does Hugo and Arnoldo name;
"To these," (said he)
"Verona cradles gave,
And since in forraign fields they rais'd her fame,
They challenge here, though much too soon, a

grave.

"Bring sprinklings, lamps, and th' altar's precious breath;

All rites which priests have prudently devis'd; Who gratefully a rev'rence teach to death;

Because they most by dying men are pris'd. "But though our loss we justly may complain; Though even by priests' authority we grieve; Yet Heav'n's first bounty, life, let none disdain, Since Gondibert, our chief delight, does live." This heard, as sea-men near a shore unknown, Who their north guide lose in a stormy night, His absence with distracted silence moan,

And loudly wellcome his return to sight: So when their great conductor seem'd to be Retir'd to endless shades amongst the slain, With silent grief they seem'd as dead as he,

But with new life wellcom'd his life again. And now that cold remainder valour left Of these whom love had lost, and fate forsook; The two that were of all but fame bereft, From Hurgonil the weeping people took. Whilst of them both sad Hurgonil takes leave, Till th' universal meeting faith provides, The day when all shall publickly receive Those bodies, death does not destroy, but hides.