FELIX and CONSTANCE . A POEM , taken from BOCCACE . To the Right Honourable the Countess of POMFRET . BLOWN on the rolling Surface of the Deep , The mourning Maid at length reclines to Sleep ; While conscious Visions labour in her Breast , And airy Spectres discompose her Rest . Sometimes she seems upon her native Shore , Bless'd with the beauteous Youth , as heretofore ; Hears him converse , while from his tuneful Tongue Melodious Sense , in melting Music , rung : Sometimes she finds , or seems at least to find , His shatter'd Vessel forc'd before the Wind , With foaming Waves , and furious Tempests tost , The Mast , and broken Sails , and Sailers lost : Sometimes her Dream , in frightful Forms , display'd A Crowd of Martyrs , cruel Love had made ; Lamenting THISBE's Shade before her stands , Shews her capacious Wound , and purple Hands ; Now Lyric SAPPHO in the Tide expires , Now faithful PORCIA eats the living Fires . At length , awaking from her Dream , she hears A Latian Voice , which thus salutes her Ears : UNHAPPY Christian Maid ! ( for such , at least , You , by your decent Habit , seem exprest ) Say whence you came , and hither how convey'd , Expos'd to Sea , without the Seaman's Aid ? SOON as the Nymph her native Language hears , Her frighted Soul was fill'd with Doubts and Fears : She thought , the adverse Wind , or refluent Main , Had forc'd her back to Liparis again ; Till , starting up , a spacious Land she spies ; Barbarian Caves and Cots her Sight surprize : She sees a Matron on the neighb'ring Strand ; Nor knows the Matron , nor the neighb'ring Land . O ! whither , whither am I blown ? she cries ; What Dens and Caves appear before my Eyes ? And who inhabit 'em ? or Beasts of Prey , Or Men , less kind , and crueller than they ? To whom the Matron : Fly , nor dare to trust . The faithless People of this hated Coast : Here Sailers oft their hapless Fate deplore ; Who scape the Seas , are wreck'd upon the Shore : For , when the forceful Wind , and foaming Deep , To this inhuman Coast impel the Ship ; Around the Beach the rude Barbarians stray , Destroy the Mariners , and seize their Prey ; By others Death , they keep themselves alive , Subsist by Rapine , and by Ruin thrive . UNHAPPY Fate ! the mourning Nymph reply'd ; O ! had I perish'd in the safer Tide ! For much I fear , the Land I now survey , Dooms me to greater Evils , than the Sea : And yet what greater Ills can Fate provide , Than thus to seek for Death , and be deny'd ? Not so my FELIX scap'd the raging Waves ; Him NEPTUNE sunk , and me unkindly saves ; Saves , only to increase my former Woes ; To fall , perhaps , by more ungen'rous Foes ; Or to indulge some lustful Tyrant's Will : But , O ye Heav'ns ! avert the fatal Ill ; Protect my Honour in this foreign Coast , The only Blessing which I have not lost ! THE list'ning Matron wonders with Surprize ; Nor hears , unmov'd , the weeping Damsel's Cries : But leads her to her neighb'ring Cottage , where She chears her fainting Soul with homely Fare ; Condoles her Grief , and begs her to disclose Her Country , Cares , and Cause of all her Woes . Excited by her Words , the pensive Maid Preludes with Sighs , and thus , reluctant , said : O hospitable Dame ! why would you move A Wretch to tell a Tale of hapless Love ? Which , in relating , must renew my Grief ; Nor can I hope , nor you bestow , Relief : Yet , since you seem a Partner of my Care , 'Tis just a Partner know the Weight I bear . NOT far from Aetna's flaming Mount I came , From Liparis , and CONSTANCE is my Name : Great Honours and Estates my Sire possess'd , And , O ! too much to make his Daughter bless'd . I once with Fame and Fortune was supply'd , Nor envy'd Empresses their Pomp and Pride ; Now , like a Meteor , fallen from its Height , My Glory's vanish'd , and extinct my Light — Full twenty Years in Happiness I pass'd , And ev'ry Year was happier than the last . Young FELIX then his Love began to show ; ( Young FELIX was the Cause of all my Woe ) A beauteous Youth , endow'd with manly Grace ; But far his noble Soul excell'd his Face : And , tho' his niggard Fate had Wealth deny'd , The Want of Wealth by Virtue was supply'd . Two Years to win my doubtful Heart he strove , Two Years my doubtful Heart declin'd his Love : Yet still he press'd me with his am'rous Tale , Nor found at length , 'twas fruitless to assail : For , by degrees , insensibly I came To first approve , and then indulge , his Flame ; Nor could his Suit , nor would his Vows reprove ; I heard with Joy , nor thought it Sin to love ; Till in my Breast imperious CUPID reign'd : Alas ! how easy Love a Conquest gain'd ! And now my Reason check'd my Will no more ; But fed the Flame , it strove to quench before : Yet durst not an immodest Thought approve ; Love rul'd my Heart , but Honour rul'd my Love : I scorn'd to stain my Virtue with a King ; As much my Lover scorn'd so mean a thing . What could we do ? What cannot Love inspire ? The Youth reveals his Passion to my Sire ; And in such melting Accents made it known , As might have mov'd all Fathers , but my own : But proudly he my Lover's Suit repell'd ; And , frowning , thus our mutual Ruin seal'd : No more , presumptuous Youth ! thy Passion name ; Suppress the Sparks , before they rise to Flame . How dar'st thou , vulgar Wretch , ignobly born , My Daughter's Scandal , and her Father's Scorn ! Aspire to wed so far above thy Fate ? He sternly said , and forc'd him from his Gate . O Avarice ! what Evils dost thou cause , Breaking the Bands of Love , and Nature's Laws ? Go , hungry God ! and rule the Narrow-soul'd ; Collect , and guard their curst , bewitching Gold ; Fit Province for thy Reign ! too mean to prove The Charms of Nuptial Life , and Joys of Love ! Ah ! what avails to gain a pompous Name , With boasted Titles of paternal Fame , Deriv'd from Ancestors of noble Blood ? Things common to the Vicious , and the Proud ! Refulgent Equipage , and gaudy Shows , Fictitious Ornaments of real Woes ! If Love be absent , Pomp and worldly Gain But gild our Cares , and varnish o'er our Pain . O ! had my cruel Father thought like me , I ne'er had prov'd the Dangers of the Sea , Nor ever wander'd here a banish'd Maid ; And , O dear FELIX ! thou hadst not been dead ! — So speaks the trembling Nymph ; and , while she speaks , The pearly Torrents stream adown her Cheeks ; Cold clammy Sweats , and throbbing Sighs arise , Slow moves the Blood , and dizzy roll her Eyes ; So much affected with her Lover's Fate , She struggled , groan'd , and fainted from her Seat . Her Hostess straight a grateful Cordial sought , And to her Lips applies the chearful Draught , Washing her Temples with reviving Oil ; The vital Spirits answer to her Toil ; The purple Tide begins to roll again , Again diffuses Life thro' ev'ry Vein : And now she sighing , rais'd her drooping Head ; And , Is my Death , she cries , again delay'd ? Why did you check me on the Brink of Fate ? Better the Soul had fled her loathsome Seat . Death is the only Good I wish to know , End of my Pain , and Period of my Woe . To whom replies the Dame : Unhappy Fair ! Rely on Heav'n , nor let your Soul despair : Teach me to give your troubled Heart Relief ; Or teach me how , at least , to share your Grief : Your mournful Story much affects my Mind ; Yet something seems remaining still behind . O ! much , CONSTANTIA says , remains to come , The fatal Part , that finishes my Doom : For , when my FELIX , ( FELIX now no more ! ) Was banish'd from my haughty Father's Door , Not able to obtain me for his Bride , Nor willing to resign me , tho' deny'd ; Hope , from Despair , his daring Soul conceives ; A Bark he builds , to plough the briny Waves : Then call'd a few Domestics to his Aid , Embrac'd me in his Arms , and sighing , said : O Thou , for ever dear , for ever blest , At once the Joy , and Trouble of my Breast ! Since Poverty expels me from thy Arms , Since Wealth alone is worthy of thy Charms ; I swear by all the mighty Pow'rs above , ( Sad Fate , that drives me from the Nymph I love ! ) To try my Fortune on remoter Shores , And seek the Gold , thy Sire so much adores . Perhaps the Planets , unpropitious here , In other Climes may kinder Aspects wear ; May lead me where the rocky Di'monds lie , Or where the golden Mines may Wealth supply ; If not , the last sad Pleasure is to die . SUCH was the fatal Vow he rashly made ; O fatal Vow , and fatally obey'd ! Struck dumb , my Tears the want of Words supply'd ; His , mixt with mine , increas'd the pearly Tide : Yet , lest I should his Resolution shake , He rush'd away , and mounted on the Deck : His hasty Crew expand the swelling Sails , Strong rolls the Sea before impulsive Gales ; The crooked Keel the frothy Flood divides , Swift flies the Ship , and rushes thro' the Tides . MY Lover long my gazing Eyes pursue ; As long my Lover kept me in his View : Reluctant so , departing Souls prepare To wing their doubtful Flight , they know not where ; Reluctant so , expiring Bodies lie , Nor willing these to stay , nor those to fly . TWICE twenty Days I spent in fruitless Tears , Before the fatal Tidings reach'd my Ears ; How FELIX , sailing o'er the watry Way , Was wreck'd on Rocks , and perish'd in the Sea . O ! then what Trouble , Grief , and anxious Care , Confus'd my Soul , and bent it to Despair ! I curs'd the Cause , that forc'd him to expire ; O Heav'n ! forgive me , if I curs'd my Sire : I fled his House , and sought the lonely Grove , ( The gloomy Witness of my former Love ! ) Where , once resolv'd to seek the Shades below , I drew the Knife , to strike the mortal Blow ; Till Piety the cruel Thought supprest , And check'd the Roman Courage of my Breast : I trembling saw two doubtful Paths ; nor knew , Which Path was best to shun , or which pursue ; Opposing Passions in my Bosom strove , And Conscience now prevail'd , and now my Love . As when the Wind and Tide a Contest make , The Sailer , trembling , sees his Vessel shake ; This way , and that , and both , by turns reclin'd , As swells the Surge , or blows the furious Wind : So was my Soul with diff'rent Notions sway'd , Of this , of that , of both , and all , afraid . Ah ! why should Mortals of their Reason boast , Which most deserts 'em , when they want it most ? For , when the troubled Mind's confus'd with Pain , 'Tis but an Ignis-fatuus of the Brain ; Which , if our wand'ring Souls from Virtue stray , But leads us more and more from Virtue's Way : So led it me to stem the devious Tide , And seek for Death , where wretched FELIX dy'd . NOT distant far , a fishing Vessel stood , Nor wholly on the Land , nor in the Flood : Arriv'd to this , I row'd it from the Shore ; And , bent on Death , the Tide I now explore ; Expecting , soon , the friendly-furious Wave Would give my Troubles and myself a Grave . But , when I saw the Billows round me flow , The boundless Skies above , and Seas below ; Scar'd with the Terrors of the watry Space , I wrapt my Mantle round my tim'rous Face : Then lay me down , to all the Dangers blind ; Chance was my Compass , and my Pilot , Wind . Blown here and there , I floated on the Deep , Which rock'd my Eyes , but not my Fears , asleep : For now my dreaming Soul , in Fancy's Maze , A thousand tragic airy Ghosts surveys ; Which flutter'd round me , and reproaching , said ; Die , Coward ! follow FELIX to the Shade : Why wouldst thou wish to live , now he is dead ? But when , at length , your friendly Voice I heard , My Vision ceas'd , the Spectres disappear'd . Thus have I told , but can't dispel my Care ; For who can conquer Love , or cure Despair ? THUS she ; and thus CAPRESA spake again : ( So was she call'd , who wak'd her on the Main ) Unhappy Nymph ! compose your troubled Mind , Nor doubt the gracious Guide of human Kind : That GOD , who sav'd you from the foamy Wave , Will doubtless guard the Life , he deign'd to save . Vouchsafe to take the Counsel I can lend : At Susa Heav'n has blest me with a Friend , Much fam'd for Wealth , for pious Actions more ; No Husband , and no Children , but the Poor : Let me conduct you to her friendly Gate ; ( Too small my Cottage for a Guest so great ) She will protect you from Barbarian Foes , With prudent Counsel mitigate your Woes , And charm your ruffled Soul to soft Repose . BLEST Partner of my Grief ! the Damsel said , Some Angel surely sent you to my Aid ; For now some dawning Rays of Hope appear , That chase away the Clouds of dark Despair . This Pause of Pain , and Interval of Grace , Shall be employ'd in Search of future Peace . Then guide , and guard me to your noble Friend ; So may you never want this Aid you lend ! And , as we travel , deign to let me know , To whom so many Thanks I justly owe ; What hapless Fortune cast you on this Land , What Occupation here employs your Hand . Sweet Conversation may suspend my Care , Dispel my Grief , or make it less severe : So shall I easier reach the neighb'ring Town ; And , list'ning to your Fate , forget my own . THUS she ; and thus the pensive Dame replies : ( With briny Drops distilling from her Eyes ) Fain would I , lovely Nymph ! suspend your Care , Dispel your Grief , or make it less severe : But , were I all my Fortune to explain , 'Twould not alleviate , but increase your Pain ; For in your Soul such Sparks of Nature glow , As make you share your Neighbour's Joy or Woe . The Christian Faith I secretly embrace , Tho' doom'd to dwell among a Pagan Race : Trepanum wasted all my Bloom of Life , Where long I liv'd , a Farmer's happy Wife : My careful , loving Husband till'd the Soil , Nor was the Field ungrateful to his Toil : For , ev'ry Summer , CERES crown'd the Plain ; Each Autumn , fill'd the Barn with golden Grain : So thick the verdant Harvest yearly stood , The Meadows seem'd to groan beneath their Load . Our fleecy Flocks were fruitful of their Young , Hail were our Oxen , and our Horses strong ; Nor did our Kine of milky Produce fail , But with distended Udders fill'd the Pail . 'Twas then , alas ! how often have I cry'd , I would not wish to be a Monarch's Bride ! When all around my little Infants came , Hung on my Knees , and lisp'd their Mama's Name ; Or met their Father with the Ev'ning Ray , Embrac'd his Neck , and kiss'd his Cares away . Soon as their riper Age could Labour bear , We sent 'em forth to feed the fleecy Care ; Where often have we spent the Summer's Day , Charm'd to behold the wanton Cattle's Play . What Pleasure 'twas to see the skipping Lambs ? What Music , when they bleated for their Dams ? We thought our Joys could never be increas'd ; Love , Peace , and Plenty join'd to make us bless'd . But see how Fortune holds her fickle Reign ! She raises up , to tumble down again : For now our Thread of Happiness was spun ; The Gains of twenty Years were lost in one . 'Twas in the Season , when the verdant Mead Begins to ask the Mower's crooked Blade ; Before the Wheat receives the yellow Stain , Or milky Juice is harden'd into Grain ; A Gale of Poison baleful EURUS cast ; The vernal Product sicken'd with the Blast ; Our Meadows straight a saffron Scene disclose , Our infant Apples quit the blighted Boughs ; Pease , Wheat , and Barley , wither'd in the Fields , And Nature one abortive Harvest yields : Nor stopt it here ; the flying Plague began To spread the Bane in Beasts , and thence to Man : First dy'd our Sheep upon the russet Plain , Next swell'd our Oxen with a fatal Blain ; Here tumbles , o'er her Meat , the moping Cow ; There drops the panting Horse before the Plough : At length the dire Contagion spread so wide , My Virgin Children made the Tomb their Bride . This Nature bore — But when our Landlord sent His Officers , to seize my Lord for Rent ; And he , to shun the Prison , flies the Shore ; Lists on the Sea , to tug the lab'ring Oar ; I wept , I rav'd , I curs'd the baleful Air ; And fled my native Land , but not my Care . Thus , banish'd here , a Widow , and a Wife , Condemn'd to suffer , not enjoy a Life , I toil for those , who catch the finny Prey ; The Toils are great , but very small the Pay ! Their scaly Fry to Market oft I bear , Oft in the Ocean wash their thready Snare ; And then was washing , when , with great Surprize , You , and your floating Vessel , met my Eyes . NOW Heav'n defend us both ! the Nymph reply'd ; And can such Rage in Christian Minds reside ? What , could the curst , inhuman Tyrant wrest Thy tender Husband from thy loving Breast , When all thy Wealth was lost , thy Children dead ? O Virtue ! Virtue ! whither art thou fled ? Why must such Evils on the Guiltless flow ? Ye Heav'ns ! is Innocence rewarded so ? SO spake the Nymph ; her Friend no more replies ; For now PRISCILLA's Dome attracts their Eyes : Approaching to her friendly Gate , they found The gen'rous Lady dealing Alms around To needy Souls , a hapless , helpless Crowd , Who daily bless'd her Hand for daily Food ! When thus CAPRESA : Hail , for ever bless'd ! 'Tis Godlike thus to succour the Distress'd : Yet none of these , who claim your Christian Aid , Deserves it more than this unhappy Maid ; Who once was bless'd with Fame and Riches too , Tho' fickle Fortune now is turn'd her Foe ; Unlike the Mendicants , who daily share Your friendly Bounty , and maternal Care . TO whom the Lady , with a gracious Look , That seem'd to breathe Compassion , while she spoke : Sure Decency forbids , a Guest so great Should , undistinguish'd , with the Vulgar eat . No ; deck my Table with the choicest Fare ; The Nymph , with me , a kind Repast shall share ; For , by her Looks if Truth may be divin'd , That lovely Body cloaths a lovely Mind . SHE said , and CONSTANCE low Obeisance made ; Then gladly follow'd , where PRISCILLA led . Within the Gate a spacious Room she found , Whose Walls were beautify'd with Tap'stry round ; Where pious Tales appear'd , so lively wrought , The Work seem'd vital , and the Figures Thought : Here , in the Shade , the Jewish Patriarch stood , Feasting the Sons of Heav'n with earthly Food ; While , there , the good Samaritan confest His Kindness , and reproach'd the cruel Priest ; With many more , a charitable Band , The skilful Labour of PRISCILLA's Hand . HITHER the Dame convey'd a sweet Repast ; Rich Meats , and rosy Wines the Table grac'd : They eat , they drank , in pleasing Converse join'd ; And chear'd at once the Body and the Mind . The Call of Nature being soon supprest , Thus spake the Lady to her youthful Guest : SAY , lovely Stranger ! ( for I long to know ; So may propitious Heav'n remove thy Woe ! ) Whence thus reduc'd ? By Famine , Sword , or Fire ? What Sire thy Beauty boasts , what Land thy Sire ? Perhaps some Princess , banish'd from her Home , Thus condescends to grace my rustic Dome : If so , I greatly fear , my homely Feast Has been unworthy of my Royal Guest . SHE said , the Nymph unfolds her Tale again ; The prudent Dame attempts to sooth her Pain , And thus reply'd : Tho' weighty are your Woes , The weightiest Ill , with Patience , lighter grows : Then bear with Patience all that Heav'n design'd , Whose Ways are just , tho' difficult to find , Plann'd for the gen'ral Good of Human Kind . God's Paths in winding Mazes often lie , Too intricate for feeble Reason's Eye ; Most regular , when in Confusion lost ; Most constant , when they seem to vary most . Perhaps his Mercy forc'd you thus to roam , To shun a more unhappy Fate at home ; For with one Evil he removes a worse , And blesses oft with what we think a Curse . Then let your Soul at Fortune not repine ; But trust in Heav'n's Protection , next , in mine : In me you still shall find a faithful Friend , With whom , in time , your Troubles all may end : But , since you now are harass'd out with Woes , Refresh your weary Soul with sweet Repose ; And when you wake , at Morning , may you find Heav'n's balmy Comfort heal your wounded Mind ! THUS chear'd , the Nymph obsequiously withdrew , And bath'd her Cares in Sleep's refreshing Dew ; Till PHOEBUS , rising from the Shades of Night , With rosy Keys unlock'd the Gates of Light : Bright as his Beams , arose the beauteous Maid ; And , to her Patroness returning , said : WHAT Thanks , propitious Lady ! shall I give For all the Godlike Bounties I receive ? O ! let my Silence thank you ; for I know , Words can't express the Gratitude I owe . To whom replies the venerable Dame : No other Thanks , but Gratitude , I claim : The Terms of Charity are never hard , Love and Compassion are their own Reward : A Soul , that succours Virtue , when distrest , Can with Reflection make a noble Feast ; Which nourishes the Mind , and overpays A gen'rous Deed with self-approving Praise . SUCH was their Converse , till domestic Care Invites PRISCILLA from the youthful Fair ; Who sat in pensive Solitude , and strove To soften , or suspend the Pains of Love . At length the Linen on her Knee she spread , And with her Needle work'd the docile Thread . Young THISBE's Fate she first began to frame ; But soon commits her Labour to the Flame : Next drew she HERO sinking in the Main ; Then raz'd the finish'd Image out again : Both these displeas'd her , tho' judicious Art , And Rays of Nature shone in ev'ry Part . At length her own unhappy Tale she chose , And lively paints the Scene of all her Woes : Her charming FELIX first the Linen grac'd ; By whom her Father , frowning stern , she plac'd : Her Lover's Parting next to these appears ; ( But , weeping here , she soil'd her Work with Tears ) Next , on the Seas , she drew her floating Ship ; Next , her own Boat , slow-wand'ring o'er the Deep : By these she fix'd CAPRESA on the Strand , Who wak'd her first , and welcom'd her to Land : The good PRISCILLA last employ'd her Art , Whose Aspect spoke the Bounty of her Heart ; Her friendly Roof , a Refuge for the Poor , The Horn of Plenty , pendent o'er the Door , Diffusing Blessings still , and still increasing more . All these confest such Beauty , Skill , and Care , Not HELEN better wove the Trojan War , While HECTOR , PARIS , and their Martial Train , With Grecian Heroes battled on the Plain . HERE let us leave the lovely Nymph a-while , To pass her tedious Hours in pleasing Toil : Her absent Lover now my Song pursues , Whose valiant Deeds require a nobler Muse . SWIFT-PINION'D FAME , which often babbling flies , To bear unwelcome Truths , and oft'ner Lyes , Had spread the ductile Error far and wide , How wand'ring FELIX perish'd in the Tide . But FELIX safely reach'd the Thunic Port , And soon arriv'd to Honours in the Court : His Wisdom there the wisest Peers excell'd ; His Valour more surpass'd 'em in the Field . When first he to the Royal Palace came , An Accident occurr'd to raise his Fame : A noble Lord there was , of great Renown , Rebell'd against the King , and claim'd his Crown : Great Preparations made he for the Fight ; Nor less the Monarch , to defend his Right ; But summon'd all , to meet the daring Foe , Whose Strength could wield a Sword , or bend a Bow ; And promis'd to reward their Martial Care , With Honours equal to their Deeds in War . Now rings the Region with the Foe's Alarms , Terrific shines the Field with burnish'd Arms ; The Martial Trumpet , sounding from afar , With dreadful Notes , proclaims approaching War . The Royal Army valiant FELIX join'd ; Intrepid Courage animates his Mind : Fix'd in the Front , the Foe he bravely dares , Like PALLAS prudent , and as bold as MARS . Say , Muse , What Goddess , that tremendous Hour , Aided the Youth with such unusual Pow'r ? Bright VENUS , conscious of the Lover's Smart , Sharpen'd his Sword , and pointed ev'ry Dart : Fierce , as a Lion , thro' the Lines he sprung ; And forc'd his Foes , like trembling Stags , along . As when resistless Winds rush o'er the Deep , And from its Anchor force the driving Ship , Or furiously against the Woodland roar ; The leafy Harvest , tumbling , flies before : So rush'd the Hero on the adverse Band , So fled the Legions from his pow'rful Hand ; Till soon the rebel Lord he Pris'ner made , And to the King his captive Prize convey'd Now reaps the Youth the Glory of his Toil ; To him the Monarch gives the Martial Spoil , Rewards his Valour with a noble Post , And makes him First Commander of his Host . Thus , quickly FELIX gain'd a deathless Name ; Thus , was his Labour crown'd with Wealth and Fame : But Wealth and Fame insipid Things appear ; To give them Taste , he wants the lovely Fair ; The lovely Fair , opprest with equal Grief , To make her happy , wants the glorious Chief . HIS Fame , which soon at Susa was reveal'd , ( Heroic Actions seldom lie conceal'd ) With pleasing Wonder struck CONSTANTIA's Ears , And fill'd her doubtful Soul with Hopes and Fears : For , tho' the wise PRISCILLA often strove With prudent Counsel to suppress her Love ; Her Love was only lessen'd , not supprest ; But glows again , again distracts her Breast . AS when , in rural Cots , the Flames aspire , And lab'ring Peasants quench the mounting Fire : If chance a latent Spark remain behind , In heapy Ashes , fann'd with ambient Wind ; The Fires again , with former Fury , rise , Flame thro' the Roof , and flash into the Skies : So in her Bosom glows the am'rous Fire , And fills her tender Soul with soft Desire . And is my FELIX yet alive ? she says ; And is he crown'd with Wealth , and deathless Praise ? No , no ; I fear the flatt'ring Tale deceives ; Methinks I see him plunging in the Waves . Ah ! why , ye Heav'ns , are feeble Mortals curst , In Things uncertain , to believe the worst ? No ; rather let me seek the Thunic Court ; There , with my Eyes , confirm the blest Report : Hope flies before , and points the pleasing Way ; Love urges on , and Love I must obey . SO saying , to PRISCILLA straight she came , And with her Thoughts acquaints the pious Dame ; The pious Dame , with tender Pity sway'd , Approves the Passion of the loving Maid ; And , with CAPRESA , guards her to the Place , Resolv'd herself to view the Hero's Face . The Hero meets 'em at the Regal Gate , Array'd in Armour , formidably great ; For on that Morning , by the King's Command , The Chief was to review the Martial Band : His studded Chariot darted Splendor round , His stately Coursers , neighing , paw'd the Ground ; The nodding Plumes around his Temples wave , With awful Grace , and beautifully brave . He knew th'approaching Nymph ; but , in Surprize , The joyous Stream descended from his Eyes : The Nymph beheld the weeping Chief ; nor knew , For what he wept , nor whom she came to view : His Martial Dress , bespangled o'er with Gold , The dreadful Warrior , not the Lover , told : But , when he cast the Helmet from his Head , And thro' the Gates the blushing Damsel led ; She knew her Lover , clasp'd him to her Breast , While silent Eloquence her Joy confest : The conscious Pains an absent Lover bears , Despair , fallacious Hope , and anxious Fears , For want of Words , were painted with their Tears . And when , at length , their crystal Sluices ceas'd , The joyful Hero thus the Nymph address'd : YE Gods ! and have I then my Charmer found ? And are my Labours thus completely crown'd ! Yes ! let me clasp thee to my longing Arms , Drink in thy Breath , and feed upon thy Charms . As widow'd Turtles , roving round the Fields , Thro' all the fruitful Stores , which Nature yields , Curst in the midst of Plenty , cannot eat ; But starve , lamenting for their absent Mate : Thus have I been with Fame and Riches grac'd ; Yet wanted thee , to give my Riches Taste . But say , how came this Wealth I wanted most ? What brought my Love to this Barbarian Coast ? HE said ; and now the joyful Damsel spake The Dangers which she suffer'd for his sake ; Shews him the Dame , who found her on the Tide ; PRISCILLA too , who all her Wants supply'd : Then , prostrate , on her Knees before him bends , And begs him to reward her faithful Friends . The grateful Chief , by native Goodness sway'd , Embrac'd 'em both , and soon the Nymph obey'd ; But first before his Royal Master came , And begs he may resign his Post of Fame : At which the Monarch frowns with awful Eyes , Till FELIX straight , who saw his Passion rise , Falls on the Ground , and to his Master shows The various Scene of all his am'rous Woes . This heard , the King resumes his former Grace ; Love tun'd his Soul , and smooth'd his ruffled Face : He rais'd the Hero , bids the Nymph appear ; The Nymph approach'd him with a modest Fear ; Before his awful Throne , submiss , she fell , And to him straight unfolds th'amazing Tale . Mute , on the Ground a-while he fix'd his Eyes ; Then , Is the Force of Love so great ? he cries : We falsely Man the World's Commander call ; Thou , mightier Monarch , Love ! commandest All : Young AMMON's Self could not thy Pow'r confine ; The World his Subject was , but He was thine . THEN , smiling , thus he chear'd the trembling Fair : Henceforward , lovely Nymph , dismiss thy Care ; For , since thy Love has conquer'd Wind and Sea , Curst be the King , that's crueller than they ! Let HYMEN straight confirm the Marriage Ties ; Thou justly hast deserv'd the Nuptial Prize . THUS said , he crown'd the Hero's Martial Care , With Riches far superior to the Fair : Due Thanks return'd , they to PRISCILLA came , Bestowing Gifts and Honours on the Dame : CAPRESA next , with Age and Labour worn , In comely Robes the grateful Pair adorn ; With ample Wealth her former Bliss restor'd , And from the Seas redeem'd her Nuptial Lord ; Her Nuptial Lord again enjoys his Wife , Again delightful Freedom crowns his Life ; Till Nature calls him to resign his Breath , In honourable Age , and peaceful Death . THIS done , the loving Couple quit the Shore , And joyfully the destin'd Port explore ; While sportive NEREIDS round their Vessel play , And wanton CUPIDS hail 'em on their Way ; Rough THETIS' Self assumes a pleasing Smile , Glad to return 'em to their native Soil ; Where sacred HYMEN join'd their mutual Hands , And Heav'n , indulgent , bless'd their Nuptial Bands .