Sir Richard Blackmore M. D. - King Arthur: Book XI lyrics

When Lucifer observ'd the Pagans flee, And the great Briton crown'd with Victory, O'er-boiling Rage his lab'ring Mind possest, And thoughts of deep Revenge o'erwhelm'd his Breast. Then thus he to himself: Must Europe still with Acclamations ring, And loud Applauses of the British King? Must he his glorious Triumphs still repeat, All my Allies, and faithful Friends defeat? Can no obstructions stay his rapid Course? No Task unequal for the Briton's Force? Can I no Dangers, no fresh Plagues Invent? Is Lucifer grown dull and impotent, My Arts exhausted, and my Vigour spent? Are all my Torments, all my Vengeance gone? Must I the Briton's Strength Superiour own? Shall Hell's great Prince, and Monarch of the Air, Sit tamely down, and languish in Despair, Unable longer to support the War? Would such a Deed become my high Degree, My Station in th' Infernal Hierarchy? I shall dishonour by th' inglorious Course, Immortal Malice, and Immortal Force. I shall debase our great and God-like Race, And draw on Hell Indelible Disgrace. Thus shall I shun insulting Michael's scorn? Thus the Seraphic Character adorn? Hell's Sanhedrim my Weakness will proclaim, And vulgar Demons will Affront my Name. Can I endure to hear my Subjects say, I did my Empire, and their Cause betray? No Fellow Deitys you ne'er shall find, Or Pains or Danger once by me declin'd To serve the Int'rests of th' Infernal State; No Disappointments shall my Zeal abate. I'll still the Briton and his Friends pursue, Shew him fresh Dangers, and the War renew. He said. And strait his spacious Wings display'd Which hid the Moon, and cast prodigious Shade; Soaring he cut the liquid Region thro', And to the Palace of King Clotar flew. Arriving there th' Apostate took his way To find th' Apartment where Palmida lay. Palmida was a Priest, whose Hellish Rage, And thirst of Blood, no Victims could a**wage. He o'er Lutetia's Altars did preside, Did Clotar's Councils, and his Conscience guide. By him inspir'd, he laid his Kingdom wast, And from the Realm the peaceful Christian chas'd. Then that th' Apostate Seraph might appear, Ambitious Orgal to Palmida dear. The late High Priest who did Lutetia guide With equal Cruelty, and equal Pride. He with Angelick sk** did soon prepare A priestly Shape, and Reverend Robes of Air. He Orgal's Looks and Presence did a**ume Ent'ring with Pontificial Port the Room. Then thus the Prince of Hell the Priest addrest. Palmida from the Regions of the Blest, From Gods, and God-like Heros I descend To show the way Lutetia to defend. With generous, open Arms you Hope in vain King Arthur's Strength, and Courage to sustain. No Gallic Chiefs such mighty Arms can weild, None such a Sword, or such a spacious Shield. This day his Arms with Spoils and Heaps of Dead Have all thy bloody Fields, Lutetia, spread. Arbel in whom you chiefly did confide, By Arthur's Weapon much lamented dy'd. The Gallic Troops to Conquest long inur'd Are now dismaid, and dread the Briton's Sword. He will advance Lutetia to a**ail, Will her strong Towers, and lofty Bulwarks scale. And shall, Lutetia, be the Conqueror's Prey? Shall Gallia's Princes British Lords obey? Shall all our Sacred Priests, and all our Gods Chas'd from their Temples leave their rich abodes? Shall their high Groves by Christians be prophan'd, Their Shrines defil'd by an unhallow'd hand? Shall our high Domes with wealthy Gifts adorn'd Be all to Heaps of mingl'd Ruins turn'd? Shall scoffing Christians spurn with impious Feet Our scatter'd Images thro' every Street? Shall Holy Fragments, Limbs, defac'd Remains, And Trunks of Gods dismember'd spred the Plains? Her Yoke on Gallia's Neck shall Albion lay, And make the Mistress of the World obey? Must Gallia's Youth of Empire long possest Be led in Triumph, be with Chains opprest? Must her great Chiefs and Princes be destroy'd, Or in base tasks, as Captives, be employ'd? With Ignominious Labour forc'd to groan While drawing Water, Hewing Wood and Stone? Shall these sweet Rivers, this delicious Soil Enrich the pamper'd Briton with their Spoil? Must Gallia's Sons their Fields and Vineyards dress, And their rich Wine for a proud Stranger press? Yet this must be, this is the dismal Fate Which now impends o'er high Lutetia's State, If from amidst her Sons she can't select Some, who her Power and Greatness to protect, Dare strike one noble Stroke, one Effort make With secret Arms King Arthur to Attack. Remove the British King at any rate, One single Blow secures the Gallic state. Such Deeds our Order always did commend, This Maxim we as Sacred still defend, That Means are hallow'd by their Pious End. This only Means within your Power remains To save Lutetia from Inglorious Chains. Go then, Palmida, and the King prepare To make on Arthur's Person Secret War. But time to gain, and Arthur to amuse, First by an Amba**y demand a Truce: If he agrees that Arms a while shall cease, Commence a Treaty to concert a Peace. Do you, with what the Briton offers, close, Nor any Terms, tho' most unjust, oppose. If this be manag'd right, and by Degrees You all things yield that will the Briton please; You will have time to form the great Design And dress the Snare, which Arthur can't decline. Then may the Ponyard in a valiant hand From hostile Arms set free the Gallic Land. No other Means you can securely trust, What's Necessary is with Statesmen just. Some may perhaps against the Deed declaim, But all to save a State would do the same. This said, the Prince of Hell without delay Dissolv'd his Airy Form and flew away. Palmida hence reviving Hopes conceiv'd, And by the Counsel Orgal gave, believ'd There ill affairs might be at last retriev'd. The Barbarous Priest on his dire purpose bent To find King Clotar, to his Palace went, To whom the Priest the Project did impart At which a Generous, Noble Mind would start. Would be with Horror, and Amazement seiz'd, And show how much the black Design displeas'd. And yet without Reluctance he agreed Without delay t' effect th' Atrocious Deed. Palmida from the Gallic King withdrew, The Bloody Undertaking to pursue. Soon as Aurora with her dawning Ray Began to smile, and propagate the Day. Clotar five Lords to Albion's Monarch sent, Who to obey their King's Instructions went. They with attending Heralds took their way To the high Camp where Arthur's Forces lay; There they arriv'd, while he in Songs of Praise And fervent Prayer did with his Captains raise Th' Almighty's Power, and Providential Care To which he ow'd his Laurels won in War. The Solemn Worship ended, Arthur Sate Within his Tent in his rich Chair of State; The Franks advanc'd their Message to relate. Then Orobac their Chief first silence broke, And bowing low, the Monarch thus bespoke. Clotar, great Prince, to put a happy end To this destructive War do's condescend To ask a Treaty may Commence for Peace, Mean time that Arms on either Side may cease. Blood to prevent our Monarch will withstand No Terms which Arthur justly can demand. You oft declare, that 'tis not War and Blood Which you pursue, but Peace and Publick Good. You would poor Captives from their Chains release, And give afflicted Kingdoms Rest, and Ease. You publish, that your Arms you hither brought, These glorious Ends in Gallia to promote. These Ends King Arthur quickly may enjoy, And need no longer Force and Arms employ. All publick Grievances shall be redrest, Nor shall the Christians longer be Opprest. He said. The British Monarch thus reply'd; I yield that Arms shall cease on either side: And to the Treaty which you ask, consent, Th' Effects of hostile Fury to prevent. I would to all in Suff'rings, Pity show, I would remove, but not encrease their Woe. My thoughts to Clotar's Throne did ne'er aspire, His injur'd Subjects Freedom I desire. Let him his Empire undisturb'd enjoy, But let him not his Arms, and Snares employ, His Subjects, and his Neighbours to destroy. Let all the Towns and Castles be restor'd, Which he has forc'd unjustly by the Sword From weaker Neighbours, to their Rightful Lord. Let him his Christian Fugitives recall, To all the Rights they once possest in Gaul. And let him place for Caution in their hand, The Towns and Forts they did before Command. Let him the Gallic Liberty restore, And vest the Senate in its ancient Power. This done, the Britons shall repa** the Seas, And give this Kingdom Liberty and Peace. For six days space I will my Arms suspend, Your Prince's final Answer to attend. He said; And rose from his high Chair of State: The Franks return'd his Answer to relate. Mean time Palmida labour'd to engage Fit Instruments to execute his Rage. Nor was it long before the Men were found, For Clotar's Guards with Murd'rers did abound. Men who his Barb'rous Orders understood, Stedfast in Guilt, and long inur'd to Blood: Men who distinguish'd Cruelty had shown, Men with Inhumane Tasks Familiar grown; Ready to act the most Unnatural Deed, From all Remorse, and all Reluctance freed. Yet these th' Infernal Enterprise declin'd, Until their Order was by Clotar sign'd. Palmida left the Ruffians to project, And fix the Means, their Purpose to effect. These various Ways and Methods did debate, How Arthur to Assault to Save their State. Some Poison, some the Ponyard did suggest, As what would gain their Bloody Purpose best. Some warmly pleaded for an Ambuscade, Whence issuing out they might the King invade. Some gave Advice, that with a vast Reward, They should attempt to gain King Arthur's Guard. Others of different Judgments did contend That all, themselves Deserters should pretend, That in the Camp they might a Season watch In which the bloody Task they might dispatch. These Ways rejected, 'twas at last agreed, They would accomplish their Atrocious Deed, When both the Monarchs from their Camps should go To Ratify the Peace with Solemn Vow. Then some as Heralds drest, and some as Priests, Should wait on Clotar to the Publick Lists; And all short Swords and Ponyards should prepare, And hide beneath their Robes the Barb'rous War. And while King Arthur did his God invoke To bind the Treaty, they should strike the Stroke. The Franks mean time who did the Peace promote, Had their Transaction to an Issue brought. All things the Briton ask'd the Franks agreed That from his Arms Lutetia might be freed. The Term which Clotar's Orators desir'd For Arms to be suspended was expir'd, When a fixt Day the Monarchs did propose, Wherein with sacred Rites, and Solemn Vows They would themselves to strict observance bind Of all things promis'd in the Treaty sign'd. And now the Night approach'd which did precede The Day appointed for the bloody Deed. When Derodan who by his King's Command, Before the Battel with a chosen Band T' attack a British Convoy was detach'd, His Expedition with Success dispatch'd; Return'd, and with his Men rejoyn'd the Host, Griev'd, and enrag'd to find the Battel lost. He for his Stature, and his Strength was known, And for his Courage oft in Combate shown. None for the Gallic Int'rest did reveal Or for the Pagan Altars warmer Zeal. Palmida to the Valiant Man addrest, And with the Language of a Crafty Priest, His Rage against King Arthur did Excite, And show'd it vain to meet his Arms in Fight. Then by degrees Palmida did relate How to compose the War, and save the State, A brave Design was by a Party laid With secret Arms King Arthur to invade. The Reverend Ruffian then the Soldier prest T'embark in this Design and lead the rest; And promis'd for Reward he should not miss Promotion here, hereafter Endless Bliss. The generous Captain tho' amaz'd to hear Such words from one of Holy Character, Yet seemingly consented, and supprest The generous Indignation in his Breast. The Priest retir'd, and valiant Derodan With horror seiz'd, thus to himself began. In what dire Crimes will Sacerdotal Rage, And eager Bigotry Mankind engage? Shall I this desperate, black Design pursue, And in a Monarch's Blood these hands embrue? Hands that did ne'er Clandestine weapons Sway Ne'er slew a Foe, but in a generous way: That none but in the Field have e'er destroy'd, Shall they in Murthering Princes be employ'd? If so, what Vengeful Plagues must I expect? Against this Head what Bolts will Heav'n direct? To various Gods I offer up my Vows, But Murther none of all those Gods allows. Let Pontificial Biggots still contend That we our State, and Altars to defend, May any way, and any Weapon chuse, May hallow'd Poyson, or Stilletto's use. That we the Christians progress to arrest May leave the Ponyard in their Monarchs Breast. Such Priests, and such dire Maxims I abhor Nor would the Gods pleas'd with such Deeds adore. Th' Immortal Powers I always understood Were Merciful, Beneficent, and Good; Swift to relieve our wants, to punish slow, Who perfect Justice in their Empire show. Such Cruelty, and Treacherous Violence Those pure and Righteous Beings must incense. I'll for our Altars, and my Country weild All honourable Arms in open Field. To save this Realm undaunted I'll oppose The greatest Dangers, and the Fiercest Foes: But I detest this Ignominious Deed No Prince by me Perfidiously shall bleed. Then Uriel Heav'ns high Order to obey, Did his Immortal Wings on high display, And from th' Empyreal Turrets down the Sky To valiant Derodan did swiftly fly. The Radiant Envoy quickly did prepare A youthful Shape, mild Eyes and Cheeks of Air. Then did he Silence break, and thus began, You bravely have exprest, undaunted Man, Your just Abhorrence of the black Design In which a Band of barb'rous Franks combine. But from the Heav'nly Regions I descend To let you know that here you must not end. You must the dire Confed'racy disclose To save the Monarch from Clandestine Foes. If Arthur's blood is by the Ruffians spilt By not preventing it, you share the Guilt. Heav'n has by valiant Derodan decreed, To disappoint the black, Inhumane Deed. Go then and let that Prince his Danger know, Let him his Safety to thy Vertue owe. That said, the Cherub from the place withdrew, And to the Seats of Peace and Pleasure flew. The Starry Stranger gone, the Frank revolv'd The Message in his Mind and soon resolv'd To pay obedience; then with eager Zeal He went th' Important Secret to reveal. Conducted by the Stars uncertain Light He at the Briton's Camp arriv'd by Night. The watchful Out-guards who oppos'd his way To the great Arthur did the Frank convey. Admitted to his Presence Derodan, First low Obeisance made, and then began. Hither I come great Monarch to detect A black Design that do's your Life respect. A bloody Band with Hellish fury fir'd, Against your Royal Person have conspir'd. I Gallia's Gods and Goddesses adore, And with th' advancement of Lutetia's power: But can't believe that for Religion's sake, I with the Ponyard may a Prince attack. Th' Immortal Powers to serve Religion's Cause Ne'er gave Command to break thro' Nature's Laws. Perfidious Outrage, Murther, Violence, Tho' us'd to serve the Gods, the Gods incense. When therefore by Palmida prest to joyn With bloody Men engag'd in this Design, My Soul the barb'rous motion did detest, And various Pa**ions strove within my Breast. While with my thoughts Opprest, a glorious God Descended to me from his high abode. He seem'd Apollo by his Beamy Face, His blooming Beauty, and his Youthful Grace. Then did the bright Divinity direct, That hasting to your Camp I should detect The horrid Plot against your Life design'd, And now I must perform the task enjoyn'd. Then did the valiant Frank the King instruct Who were the Chiefs, that did th' Affair conduct. And where, and how, and when they had agreed To wreek their Malice by th' inhumane Deed. Then said, do you, great Prince, due Caution take, And for their hidden Arms enquiry make. I, that my Message may Belief obtain, Will under Guard within your Camp remain; That if my Words are false your Vengeful hand May d**h inflict, such as my Crimes demand. The pious Arthur prais'd the generous Zeal Which mov'd the Frank this Treach'ry to reveal. And gave Command he should Rewards receive Such as great Kings do to great Merit give; If the Succeeding Morn should clearly shew The Plot discover'd by the Frank, was true. Now had the Sun disclos'd the Mountains heads, And pour'd warm glory on the reeking Meads. Clotar arose, and soon with Eager speed Came mounted on his Mauritanian Steed, Attended with th' Assa**ins some as Priests, Some habited as Heralds to the Lists. Ensigns of Peace and Piety they bore, But treach'rous Arms beneath their Vestments wore. The Armys on the Plain drawn in Array On either Side did at a distance stay. Except the Troops who with their Shields reclin'd And Spears erect the Palisado's lin'd. Next Albion's King advanc'd with God-like Grace Born on a Courser of Eborac Race. The Franks with Wonder and with Fear behold His Martial Port, and Arms adorn'd with Gold. All by their Looks their inward Joy declare That now he came for Peace, and not for War. The Terror of Lutetia brightly shone In Armour clad, so well in Battel known. Advancing near to Clotar thus he cry'd, Have I in vain on Clotar's Vows rely'd? 'Tis hard, to think a Monarch should agree T' Assault my Life by Barb'rous Treachery. That with Assa**ins Clotar should combine, Approve, Abet, and Aid their black Design. This on a Prince so great a Stain would prove, As Rivers cannot cleanse, or Time remove. Yet, valiant Franks, and faithful Britons, know That one who seems a brave and generous Foe, Has unconstrain'd, unsought, unask'd, declar'd That Clotar has Perfidious Arms prepar'd. That these who Heralds and as Priests appear, Beneath their Robes short Swords and Ponyards wear. That these are Veteran Ruffians in disguise, Intending to Assault me by Surprise When I dismount, and to the Altar go, To Ratify the Peace by solemn Vow. I doubtful, neither wholly disbelieve The Charge, nor to it wholly Credit give. But if unjust these Accusations are, Then let the Search their Innocence declare. But if their Guilt will not the Search abide, The Charge is then too plain to be deny'd. He said. King Clotar all enrag'd to find, That Arthur knew the Treachery design'd, Exclaiming loud, to Franks and Britons cry'd, To break the Treaty what mean Arts are try'd? What wild Suggestions, what vile Shifts are these, Which Arthur uses to retard the Peace? And do's the Briton thus his Faith betray, Yet by malicious Accusations lay On us the Guilt, 'tis plain his hostile Mind Is not to Peace, but to the Sword inclin'd. Since Arthur still on Blood and Slaughter bent, Eludes the Treaty, I to Arms consent. The Guilt he has suggested I abhor, No Prince to purge himself should offer more. He said, and drawing off his Treacherous Band, Rejoyn'd his Army, which at his Command Did with Precipitation leave the Plain, Lutetia's Bulwarks and strong Walls to gain. To line the Ramparts some Battalions flew, The rest themselves within Lutetia threw, Resolv'd the mighty City to defend, On which the fate of Gallia did depend. Mean time King Arthur did his Army head, And to th' Attack the eager Britons led. The Gallic Lords Lutetia's Works to Guard, Against th' Invader all things had prepar'd. Bosar as Chief did in the Lines Command, The Gallic King within the Town remain'd. The British Youth advancing in Array Their Ensigns o'er the Neighb'ring Fields display. From their high Towers the Franks observe from far The rising Storm, and rolling Tyde of War. Before his Troops the mighty Briton rode Glorious in Arms, like some Terrestrial God. As when Britannia's Trading Fleets, that run For Indian Treasures to the rising Sun, Beneath the Equinoctial Line have spy'd A Spout ascending from the boiling Tyde, Whose watry Obelisk do's threat'ning rise, And thrusts his towring head amidst the Skies The Sailors pale with Consternation, dread Th' impending Tempest gathering o'er their head With no less Terror did the trembling Gauls, See Albion's King advancing to their Walls. Then Cutar with his Monarch did prevail, That he might first Lutetia's Works Assail. Onwards he march'd with a select Brigade, Th' advanc'd Redoubts with Vigour to invade. The Chief on Fame and Martial Glory bent, To Storm the lofty Works with pleasure went. He strove to be the foremost in the Fight, For Danger was his Favorite Delight. His Ardor, chearful Looks, and Martial Fire, Did all his Troops with double Life inspire. As when a Dolphin sports upon the Tyde, Displays his Beautys, and his Scaly Pride His various colour'd Arch adorns the Flood, Like a bright Rain-bow in a watry Cloud: He from the Billows leaps with gamesome strife, Wanton with Vigour and Immoderate Life. With so much Spirit swelling all his Veins, The sprightly Briton fled along the Plains. With more Delight he went to Charge the Foe, Than eager Bridegrooms to their Nuptials go. Approaching to the Works, the Warriour threw His glitt'ring Dart, and great Orander slew: Between the lower Ribs it pierc'd his Side, And did the Midriff, as it pa**'d, divide. The Frank a while with labour drew his Breath, Then fell, and posted to the Shades beneath. Before Lutetia saw the British Arms, Orander vanquish'd by Pulcrina's Charms Long Woed, and won at last the beauteous Maid By promis'd Nuptials, but his Faith betray'd: To shun th' entreatys of the injur'd Fair, The Faithless Youth did to the Camp repair. But when she found her Prayers and Tears deny'd, Enrag'd Pulcrina thus despairing cry'd: And can Orander thus unconstant prove, Break all the Bonds of Vows, and those of Love? Is he regardless of my Beauty grown? Will he expose my Honour, and his own? Will the wild Savage no Compa**ion show? Will he forsake Pulcrina? will he go, And leave me thus o'erwhelm'd with Shame and Woe? Go, Perjur'd Wretch, but midst the fighting Throng, May some insulting Foe revenge my Wrong. May some just God direct his glitt'ring Dart, And guide the point to thy Perfidious Heart: Then think of me, and rack'd with Torment ly, In pangs of Guilt, and Throws of Horror dy. The fatal Curses flew around his Head, And Cutar's Dart aveng'd the injur'd Maid. With like Success his second Dart he threw, Which swiftly past, and strong Orellan slew. It thro' his Windpipe and his Gullet made Its fatal way, and in his Neckbone stay'd. His Elder Brother Colon he destroy'd By secret Poison, and his Lands enjoy'd. Old Meda famous for her Art prepar'd The deadly Draught, and had a great Reward. He now by Cutar's Arms of Life bereft Fell, and his Wealth and great Possessions left. Next Boser sprung from Solon's noble Blood In splendid Armour on the Rampart stood. His Stature graceful, Courtly was his Air, And costly Oyls perfum'd his Limbs and Hair. He by the Dames was with Applauses crown'd, Of all the Dancing Nation most renown'd. He came, as if he did expect to fall Embalm'd before-hand for his Funeral. When Cutar saw him on the Works appear, With great Disdain he threw his ma**y Spear. Which thro' his Coat of Mail and Crimson Vest His Bosom pierc'd, and lodg'd within his Breast. The fragrant Warriour felt the fatal Wound, Fell on the Rampart, and perfum'd the Ground. Next on the Bulwark Zolon did advance, Tho' void of Worth, of wondrous Arrogance. Deform'd alike in Body and in Mind, And more to scare, then Charge a Foe design'd. His livid Eyes retreating from the Day Deep in their hollow Orbits buried lay. His Back-bone standing out, drew in his Breast, This Shoulder elevated, that Deprest, And his foul Chin his odious Bosom prest. Long little Legs, such has the stalking Crane, His short ill figur'd Body did sustain. Still Mutinys he in the Army rais'd, Bursting with Spleen to hear another prais'd. Meager with Malice, with Ill nature worn, And with th' envenom'd teeth of Envy torn To vent his Spite he labour'd to defame The Chiefs, whose Valour had advanc'd their Name. His pois'nous Tongue did all great Heros wound, Reviling those whom all with Honour crown'd. Some envious Men his Calumnys approv'd, And all who Merit hated, Zolon lov'd. Cutar with Indignation at him cast His mighty Spear, which thro' his Body past. Down Zolon fell, and tortur'd with his Wound In Rage and Anguish beat, and bit the Ground. Now Cutar mounts the Works with Sword in hand And that his Troops should follow gave Command. The fearless Men the lofty Works ascend Which with projected Arms the Foes defend. Britons and Franks prodigious Courage show, And crimson Rivers down the Bulwarks flow. Arms meet with Arms, Fauchions with Fauchions clash, And sparks of Fire struck out from Armour flash. Thick clouds of Dust contending Warriours raise, And hideous War o'er all the Region brays. Tempests of Darts and showers of Arrows sing, And all the Heav'ns with dreadful Clamour ring. Mean time great Stannel with his valiant Band Attacked the Works where Bofar did Command. Nor Clouds of flying Darts, nor storms of Fire Could force the Valiant Leader to retire. Midst showers of Stones which fell like Summers Hail, Th' undaunted Hero did the Foe Assail. Mounting the Bulwark's brow, he forward prest, And quickly with the Foe came Breast to Breast. Here the brave Man Immortal Deeds perform'd, And with resistless force the high Entrenchment storm'd. First Baradan his fatal Weapon felt, Who on the Banks of fair Matrona dwelt: The mighty Fauchion pa**ing thro' the Side With its sharp edge the Liver did divide: The blood gush'd out from the large hollow Vein And mixt with Choler did the ground distain. Then Ostacar a Bellovasian Lord High lifted in the Air his flaming Sword. Against the Foe he meant a mortal stroke, But on his Shield th' unfaithful Weapon broke. While for another Sword aloud he cry'd, The Briton's Fauchion did his Throat divide. The gasping Wound pour'd forth a Crimson flood, Down fell the Warriour Strangled in his Blood. The Conquerour next Stellander did attack, And drove his mighty Spear thro' Breast and Back: For Astrologic Science he was fam'd, By all that lov'd the Art with honour nam'd. He oft Collected from the Conscious Stars The Fall of Empires, and th' Event of Wars. He could predict a rising Fav'rite's Fate, The d**h of Kings, and mighty Turns of State. To him the Heav'nly Orbs had often shown The fate of others, but conceal'd his own. Nor Arms nor Science could his Life protect Against the Spear the Briton did direct. Then Soron, Harim, and Germander dy'd By Stannel's Arms, all three in Blood ally'd. Thirsty of Glory and of Martial Fame These from the Verdant Vale together came, Where ling'ring Liger draws along the Plain Thro' flowry Labyrinths his Silver train. Next in his tortur'd Bowels Drapar felt The Conquerour's Spear beneath his shining Belt. The fainting Warriour fell, but from his Wound His Entrails gushing out first reach'd the ground. By this time Erla, at a third Attack Had Storm'd the Works, and chas'd the Squadrons back. He on the Foe with so much Fury prest, That soon their high Entrenchments he possest. With mighty Slaughter he pursu'd the Gauls, Who fled to save themselves within their Walls. When Valiant Ansel saw his Friends retreat, He made a Sally from the Eastern Gate, And cry'd aloud, What means this shameful Flight? Assert your Honour, and renew the Fight. Hear from the Walls your Wives and Children cry, Whither will these inglorious Cowards fly? Will they expose us to th' invading Foe, To all the Rage insulting Conquerours show? Must we endure the haughty Briton's scorn, And his proud Triumphs led in Chains adorn? Where are the Heros, where the Valiant Franks, Who on th' astonish'd Rhine, and Mosa's Banks By Martial Deeds acquir'd Immortal Fame, And laden home with Spoils and Laurels came; Who from the Field in Triumph still return'd, And with their Trophys our high Domes adorn'd. Do you your selves the Progeny pretend Of these great Men, who did so well defend Their Country, and so far their Power extend. Ye Valiant Chiefs, so oft with Conquest crown'd, Ye mighty Shades, who did our Empire found, How will you all Despise, Disdain, Disown Your Sons, so feeble, so degenerate grown? Prevent, O Franks, their Grief, prevent your Shame, You fight not now for Empire, and for Fame, But for your Being, for your Gods, and all Which you can either Dear, or Sacred call. Advance then, Franks, your ancient Courage show, I'll lead your Squadrons on to Charge the Foe. He said, and burning with a Martial Rage, The Chief march'd on th' Invaders to engage. The Franks turn'd back, inspir'd by Ansel's words, And once more brandish'd their Refulgent Swords. Then in a noble Fight their Strength they tr'd, And many Heros fell on either side. Lofel, Alduran; Streban, Otho slew, And Graman's Javelin pierc'd Athleta thro'. Orfaber's Spear pierc'd great Elmondo's Side, Barnel by Humbert's Arms, and Omar dy'd. Then Valiant Erla, Loran did Attack, The Spear transfixt his Stomach and his Back. From the Vogesian Mountains Loran came, To signalize his Arms, and raise his Fame: His wealthy Father late of Life bereft, Had to his Son four noble Mannors left. His Mother lab'ring with Prophetic Fears, With unsuccessful Prayers, and fruitless Tears, Ev'n on her Knees long strove to overcome His Martial Zeal, and keep the Youth at home. Now in his dying Throws too late he said, Would I my Mother's Counsel had obey'd. Then Valiant Cubal, Arpan did invade, But on his temper'd Buckler broke his Blade. Cubal who midst the wresting Rings had won In great Augusta's Squares so much Renown, Ran in, and with an unexpected War Made Arpan's Heels fly up amidst the Air. Flat on his Back the Warriour prest the Sand, Strait the Victorious Briton from his hand Did with main Force the flaming Fauchion wrest Then plung'd the Weapon deep into his Breast. Vebba with Martial Rage, on Carlot prest, And with his Back-Sword hop'd to cleave his Crest. The Warriour's Head the erring Weapon mist, But cut the Veins and Sinews of his Wrist. The Frank unable more his Arms to weild, Dropt on the ground his Sword and mighty Shield. First, in his wounded Veins did Strabor feel The fatal Edge of Ansel's glitt'ring Steel. Deep in his Sides between his Ribs it sunk, And cut in two the large Arterial Trunk, Thro' which the Heart throws up the Vital Flood, The Briton fell, and delug'd lay in Blood. Then Heban, who had left fair Deva's Banks, To make this great Campaign against the Franks, Who Gallic Power, and Gallic Faith abhorr'd, Dy'd near Lutetia's Walls by Ansel's Sword. His Fauchion next thro' Rollo's Helmet broke, And cut in sunder with the furious stroke His Hairy Scalp, which hung below the Ear, And left the Skull in ghastly manner bare. Back to his Tent the wounded Hero came, Where great Bernardo of Immortal Fame For his Chirurgic Sk**, gave quick Relief, Stitcht up the gaping Lips, and heal'd the wounded Chief. Toson, a noble, valiant, wondrous Boy, His Father's Pride, and his fond Mother's Joy, Who ne'er till now had grip'd a Shield or Lance, To Charge the Frank, undaunted did advance. The Frank despis'd him, and exclaiming cry'd, I'll soon chastise your Arrogance and Pride; Ambitious Youth, too soon the Field you take, And for the Camp too soon the School forsake. You should at home have with your Sisters play'd, And her great Comfort with your Mother stay'd. Heav'ns! that a Boy should Gallic Chiefs provoke, Toson while thus th' insulting Warriour spoke, Aim'd at his shining Helm a noble Stroke. The prosperous Weapon thro' the Buckler past, And Ansel's Arm beneath the Shoulder raz'd. From the divided Veins the Blood flew out, The Britons gave a loud applauding Shout. The Frank enrag'd, attack'd the Beardless Foe, Threatning to take his Head off at a Blow. Thro' the Youth' s Shield the Fauchion pa**age found, Inflicting on his Neck a painful Wound. The Britons strait rush'd in to give him Aid, And to the Rear th' advent'rous Youth Convey'd. Ansel retir'd, and Interposing Night Parted the Warriours, and broke off the Fight. The Britons kept the Outworks, and the Gauls Retreating sav'd themselves within their Walls.