For this, fhe had distill'd with early care,
The juice of fimples friendly to despair,
A magazine of death, and thus prepar'd,
Secure to die, the fatal meffage heard:

Then fmil'd fevere; nor with a troubled look,
Or trembling hand the fun'ral present took:
Ev'n kept her count'nance, when the lid remov'd
Difclos'd the heart, unfortunately lov'd;

She needed not be told, within whose breaft
It lodg'd; the meffage had explain'd the reft,
Or not amaz'd, or hiding her furprize,
She fternly on the bearer fix'd her eyes:
Then thus; Tell Tancred, on his daughter's part,
The gold, tho' precious, equals not the heart:
But he did well to give his best; and I,
Who wish'd a worthier urn, forgive his poverty.

At this fhe curb'd a groan, that else had come,
And paufing, view'd the prefent in the tomb;
Then, to the heart ador'd devoutly glew'd
Her lips, and raising it, her fpeech renew'd:
Ev'n from my day of birth, to this, the bound
Of my unhappy being, I have found
My father's care and tenderness exprefs'd;
But this laft act of love excels the reft:
For this fo dear a prefent, bear him back
The beft return that I can live to make.

The meffenger difpatch'd, again fhe view'd
The lov'd remains, and fighing thus purfu'd:
Source of my life, and lord of my defires,
In whom I liv'd, with whom my foul expires,
Poor heart, no more the fpring of vital heat,
Curs'd be the hands that tore thee from thy feat!
The courfe is finish'd which thy fates decreed,
And thou from thy corporeal prifon freed:
Soon haft thou reach'd the goal with mended pace,
A world of woes difpatch'd in little space;

M 2

Forc'd

Forc'd by thy worth, thy foe, in death become
Thy friend, has lodg'd thee in a coftly tomb.
There yet remain'd thy fun'ral exequies,
The weeping tribute of thy widow's eyes,
And those, indulgent heav'n has found the way
That I, before my death, have leave to pay.
My father ev'n in cruelty is kind,

Or heav'n has turn'd the malice of his mind
To better ufes than his hate defign'd;

And made th' infult which in his gift appears,
The means to mourn thee with my pious tears;
Which I will pay thee down, before I go,
And fave myself the pains to weep below,
If fouls can weep; tho' once I meant to meet
My fate with face unmov'd, and eyes unwet,
Yet fince I have thee here in narrow room,
My tears fhall fet thee first afloat within thy tomb:
Then (as I know thy fpirit hovers nigh)
Under thy friendly conduct will I fly
To regions unexplor'd, fecure to fhare
Thy state; nor hell fhall punishment appear;
And heav'n, is double heav'n, if thou art there.
She faid: her brimful eyes, that ready stood,
And only wanted will to keep a flood,
Releas'd their watry ftore, and pour'd amain,
Like clouds low hung, a fober show'r of rain;
Mute folemn forrow, free from female noife,
Such as the majesty of grief destroys;
For, bending o'er the cup, the tears she shed
Seem'd by the pofture to discharge her head,
O'er fill'd before; and (oft her mouth apply'd
To the cold heart,) fhe kiss'd at once, and cry'd.
Her maids, who stood amaz'd, nor knew the caufe
Of her complaining, nor whose heart it was;
Yet all due measures of her mourning kept,

}

Did office at the dirge, and by infection wept;

And

And oft enquir'd th' occafion of her grief,
(Unanswer'd but by fighs) and offer'd vain relief.
At length, her stock of tears already shed,
She wip'd her eyes, she rais'd her drooping head,
And thus purfu'd: O ever faithful heart,
I have perform'd the ceremonial part,
The decencies of grief; it rests behind,
That as our bodies were, our fouls be join'd;
To thy whate'er abode, my shade convey,
And as an elder ghoft, direct the way.
She faid; and bade the vial to be brought,
Where the before had brew'd the deadly draught:
First pouring out the med'cinable bane,

'The heart, her tears had rins'd, she bath'd again;
Then down her throat the death fecurely throws,
And quaffs a long oblivion of her woes.

This done, the mounts the genial bed, and there
(Her body first compos'd with honeft care)
Attends the welcome reft; her hands yet hold
Close to her heart the monumental gold;
Nor farther word fhe spoke, but clos'd her fight,
And quiet fought the covert of the night.
The damfels, who the while in filence mourn'd,
Not knowing, nor fufpecting death fuborn'd,
Yet, as their duty was, to Tancred fent;
Who, conscious of th' occafion, fear'd th' event,
Alarm'd, and with prefaging heart, he came,
And drew the curtains, and expos'd the dame
To lothfome light: then with a late relief
Made vain efforts, to mitigate her grief,
She, what she could, excluding day, her eyes
Kept firmly feal'd, and fternly thus replies:
Tancred, restrain thy tears, unfought by me,
And forrow unavailing now to thee:
Did ever man before afflict his mind,
To fee th' effect of what himself defign'd

Yet, if thou haft remaining in thy heart
Some fenfe of love, fome unextinguish'd part
Of former kindness, largely once profess'd,
Let me by that adjure thy harden'd breaft,
Not to deny thy daughter's last request:
The fecret love which I fo long enjoy'd,
And still conceal'd, to gratify thy pride,
Thou haft disjoin'd; but, with my dying breath,
Seek not, I beg thee, to disjoin our death;
Where'er his corps by thy command is laid,
Thither let mine in public be convey'd;
Expos'd in open view, and fide by fide,
Acknowledg'd as a bridegroom and a bride.
The prince's anguish hinder'd his reply:
And fhe, who felt her fate approaching nigh,
Seiz'd the cold heart, and heaving to her breast,
Here, precious pledge, fhe faid, fecurely reft:
These accents were her laft; the creeping death
Benumb'd her fenfes first, then stopp'd her breath.
Thus fhe for disobedience juftly dy'd:
The fire was juftly punish'd for his pride:
The youth, leaft guilty, fuffer'd for th' offence,
Of duty violated to his prince;

Who late repenting of his cruel deed,
One common fepulchre for both decreed;
Intomb'd the wretched pair in royal state,
And on their monument infcrib'd their fate.

}

THEODORE

AND

HON OR I A.

F all the cities in Romanian lands,

The thier, and moft renown'd, Ravenna ftands,
Adorn'd in ancient times with arms and arts,
And rich inhabitants, with gen'rous hearts.
But Theodore the brave, above the reft,
With gifts of fortune and of nature bless'd,
The foremost place for wealth and honour held,
And all in feats of chivalry excell❜d.

This noble youth to madness lov'd a dame,
Of high degree, Honoria was her name;
Fair as the faireft, but of haughty mind,
And fiercer than became fo soft a kind,
Proud of her birth; (for equal she had none;)
The reft the fcorn'd; but hated him alone,
His gifts, his conftant courtship, nothing gain'd;
For fhe, the more he lov'd, the more difdain'd.
He liv'd with all the pomp he could devise,
At tilts and tournaments obtain❜d the prize;
But found no favour in his lady's eyes:
Relentless as a rock, the lofty maid,
Turn'd all to poison, that he did or faid:

Nor pray'rs, nor tears, nor offer'd vows, could move;
The work went backward; and the more he ftrove
T'advance his fuit, the farther from her love.
Weary'd at length, and wanting remedy,

He doubted oft, and oft refolv❜d to die.

M 4

}

}

But