Nor why they like or this or t' other face,
Or judge of this or that peculiar grace;
But love in gross, and stupidly admire;
As flies, allured by light, approach the fire.
Thus our man-beast, advancing by degrees,
First likes the whole, then separates what he sees;
On several parts a several praise bestows,
The ruby lips, the well-proportion'd nose,
The snowy skin, and raven-glossy hair,
The dimpled cheek, and forehead rising fair,
And even in sleep itself, a smiling air.

From thence his eyes descending view'd the rest,

Her plump round arms, white hands, and heaving breast. Long on the last he dwelt, though every part

A pointed arrow sped to pierce his heart.

Thus in a trice a judge of beauty grown,

(A judge erected from a country clown)
He long'd to see her eyes, in slumber hid,

And wish'd his own could pierce within the lid :
He would have waked her, but restrain'd his thought,
And Love, new-born, the first good manners taught.
An awful fear his ardent wish withstood,

Nor durst disturb the goddess of the wood.
For such she seem'd by her celestial face,
Excelling all the rest of human race:

And things divine, by common sense he knew,
Must be devoutly seen, at distant view.
So checking his desire, with trembling heart
Gazing he stood, nor would nor could depart;
Fix'd as a pilgrim wilder'd in his way,

Who dares not stir by night for fear to stray,
But stands with awful eyes to watch the dawn of day.
At length awaking, Iphigene the fair,

(So was the beauty call'd, who caused his care,)
Unclosed her eyes, and double day reveal'd,
While those of all her slaves in sleep were seal'd.
The slavering cudden, propp'd upon his staff,
Stood ready gaping with a grinning laugh,
To welcome her awake, nor durst begin
To speak, but wisely kept the fool within.
Then she:-What make you, Cymon, here alone?
(For Cymon's name was round the country known,
Because descended of a noble race,

And for a soul ill sorted with his face.)

But still the sot stood silent with surprise,
With fix'd regard on her new-open'd eyes,
And in his breast received the envenom'd dart,
A tickling pain that pleased amid the smart.
But conscious of her form, with quick distrust
She saw his sparkling eyes, and fear'd his brutal lust.
This to prevent, she waked her sleepy crew,
And rising hasty, took a short adieu.

Then Cymon first his rustic voice essay'd,
With proffer'd service to the parting maid
To see her safe; his hand she long denied,
But took at length, ashamed of such a guide.
So Cymon led her home, and leaving there,
No more would to his country clowns repair,
But sought his father's house, with better mind,
Refusing in the farm to be confined.

The father wonder'd at the son's return,
And knew not whether to rejoice or mourn;
But doubtfully received, expecting still
To learn the secret causes of his alter'd will.
Nor was he long delay'd: the first request
He made, was, like his brothers to be dress'd,
And, as his birth required, above the rest.

With ease his suit was granted by his sire,
Distinguishing his heir by rich attire.
His body thus adorn'd, he next design'd
With liberal arts to cultivate his mind:
He sought a tutor of his own accord,
And studied lessons he before abhorr'd.

Thus the man-child advanced, and learn'd so fast,
That in short time his equals he surpass'd:
His brutal manners from his breast exiled,
His mien he fashion'd, and his tongue he filed;
In every exercise of all admired,

He seem'd, nor only seem'd, but was inspired:
Inspired by love, whose business is to please;
He rode, he fenced, he moved with graceful ease,
More famed for sense, for courtly carriage more,
Than for his brutal folly known before.

What then of alter'd Cymon shall we say,
But that the fire which choked in ashes lay,
A load too heavy for his soul to move,

Was upward blown below, and brush'd away by love.

Love made an active progress through his mind,
The dusky parts he clear'd, the gross refined,
The drowsy waked; and, as he went, impress'd
The Maker's image on the human breast.
Thus was the man amended by desire,

And though he loved perhaps with too much fire,
His father all his faults with reason scann'd,
And liked an error of the better hand;
Excused the excess of passion in his mind,
By flames too fierce, perhaps too much refined.
So Cymon, since his sire indulged his will,
Impetuous loved, and would be Cymon still;
Galesus he disown'd, and chose to bear

The name of fool confirm'd, and bishop'd by the fair.
To Cipseus by his friends his suit he moved;
Cipseus the father of the fair he loved :

But he was pre-engaged by former ties,
While Cymon was endeavouring to be wise:
And Iphigene, obliged by former vows,
Had given her faith to wed a foreign spouse.
Her sire and she to Rhodian Pasimond,
Though both repenting, were by promise bound,
Nor could retract; and thus, as fate decreed,
Though better loved, he spoke too late to speed.
The doom was past, the ship already sent
Did all his tardy diligence prevent:
Sigh'd to herself the fair unhappy maid,
While stormy Cymon thus in secret said:
The time is come for Iphigene to find
The miracle she wrought upon my mind:
Her charms have made me man, her ravish'd love
In rank shall place me with the bless'd above;
For mine by love, by force she shall be mine,
Or death, if force should fail, shall finish my design.
Resolved he said; and rigg'd with speedy care
A vessel strong, and well equipp'd for war.
The secret ship with chosen friends he stored;
And bent to die, or conquer, went aboard.
Ambush'd he lay behind the Cyprian shore,
Waiting the sail that all his wishes bore;
Nor long expected, for the following tide
Sent out the hostile ship and beauteous bride.
To Rhodes the rival bark directly steer'd,
When Cymon sudden at her back appear'd,

And stopp'd her flight: then standing on his prow
In haughty terms he thus defied the foe :-
Or strike your sails at summons, or prepare
To prove the last extremities of war.

Thus warn'd, the Rhodians for the fight provide;
Already were the vessels side by side,

These obstinate to save, and those to seize the bride.
But Cymon soon his crooked grapples cast,

Which with tenacious hold his foes embraced,

And, arm'd with sword and shield, amid the press he pass'd.
Fierce was the fight, but hastening to his prey,
By force the furious lover freed his way:
Himself alone dispersed the Rhodian crew,
The weak disdain'd, the valiant overthrew ;
Cheap conquest for his following friends remain'd,
He reap'd the field, and they but only glean'd.
His victory confess'd, the foes retreat,
And cast their weapons at the victor's feet.
Whom thus he cheer'd: O Rhodian youth, I fought
For love alone, nor other booty sought :
Your lives are safe; your vessel I resign,
Yours be your own, restoring what is mine.
In Iphigene I claim my rightful due,
Robb'd by my rival, and detain'd by you:
Your Pasimond a lawless bargain drove ;
The parent could not sell the daughter's love;
Or if he could, my love disdains the laws,
And like a king by conquest gains his cause:
Where arms take place, all other pleas are vain;
Love taught me force, and force shall love maintain.
You, what by strength you could not keep, release;
And at an easy ransom buy your peace.

Fear on the conquer'd side soon sign'd the accord,
And Iphigene to Cymon was restored:
While to his arms the blushing bride he took,
To seeming sadness she composed her look,
As if by force subjected to his will;

Though pleased, dissembling, and a woman still.
And, (for she wept,) he wiped her falling tears,
And pray'd her to dismiss her empty fears;
For yours I am, he said, and have deserved
Your love much better, whom so long I served,
Than he to whom your formal father tied
Your vows; and sold a slave, not sent a bride.

Thus while he spoke, he seized the willing prey,
As Paris bore the Spartan spouse away.

Faintly she scream'd, and even her eyes confess'd
She rather would be thought, than was, distress'd.
Who now exults but Cymon in his mind?
Vain hopes and empty joys of human kind,
Proud of the present, to the future blind!
Secure of fate, while Cymon ploughs the sea,
And steers to Candy with his conquer'd prey,
Scarce the third glass of measured hours was run,
When like a fiery meteor sunk the sun;
The promise of a storm; the shifting gales
Forsake, by fits, and fill, the flagging sails:
Hoarse murmurs of the main from far were heard,
And night came on, not by degrees prepared,
But all at once; at once the winds arise,
The thunders roll, the forky lightning flies.
In vain the master issues out commands,
In vain the trembling sailors ply their hands:
The tempest unforeseen prevents their care,
And from the first they labour in despair.
The giddy ship betwixt the winds and tides,
Forced back and forwards, in a circle rides,
Stunn'd with the different blows; then shoots amain,
Till counterbuff'd, she stops, and sleeps again.
Not more aghast the proud archangel fell,

Plunged from the height of heaven to deepest hell,
Than stood the lover of his love possess'd,

Now cursed the more, the more he had been bless'd;
More anxious for her danger, than his
Death he defies, but would be lost alone.

own,

Sad Iphigene to womanish complaints

Adds pious prayers, and wearies all the saints;
Even, if she could, her love she would repent,
But since she cannot, dreads the punishment:
Her forfeit faith, and Pasimond betray'd,
Are ever present, and her crime upbraid.
She blames herself, nor blames her lover less,
Augments her anger, as her fears increase;
From her own back the burden would remove,
And lays the load on his ungovern'd love,
Which interposing durst, in Heaven's despite,
Invade and violate another's right: