THE BATTLE OF RAMILLIA: OR, THE Power of UNION. John Dennis Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. T135406 D221 K107134.000 Dennis, John, 1657-1734. The battle of Ramillia: or, the power of union. A poem. In five books. By Mr. Dennis. London printed for Ben. Bragg 1706 pp. 1-132. [26],132p.; 8⁰.

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THE BATTLE OF RAMILLIA : OR , THE Power of UNION .
LIB. I. OF Belgian Provinces by Unions Pow'r Deliver'd in Ramillia's Plain I sing . I sing the Triumph of that wondrous Field , Which rais'd the Fame of pious Anna's Reign Above the Glory of great Henry's Days , And equall'd Marlbro' to Heroick Chiefs In Natures Youth and happier Climates born . O Thou whose Wisdom and resistless Pow'r Has brought to light this wondrous Birth of Celestial Guardian of this Sacred Isle , Genius of Warlike Britain , who awhile Hast , left eternal Glory and the Sway Of some Triumphant Hierarchy of Heav'n , To shelter and protect these happy Realms ; Thou who with blissful Charity inspir'd , Infusest Charity thro' ev'ry Heart , And ev'ry Soul subjected to Thy Sway , Teaching Thy much loud Britons to subdue The Rage of France and Hell by Love Divine ; O dart such Rays of that Seraphick Flame Into my Breast , that all my ravish'd Soul May with immortal Charity be fir'd , With Sacred Love of Britain's Godlike Sons , That rais'd to Heav'n by that Celestial Fire , It may attain a Song of wondrous Height , May take a Flight above th' Anonian Hill , And may proclaim thy Wisdom and thy Pow'r And their Heroick Deeds in such a strain As no fictitious Muse can ere inspire . Now was the Sun in Taurus mounted high , And darting down his Genial Rays from Heav'n Directly to the Bosom of the Earth , Call'd forth each Plant and ev'ry tender Flow'r From out their Wintry , secret warm Retreats , And restor'd Nature and renew'd the World ; When the Confederate Troops call'd out by Fate , And by their great Commanders awful Voice Were from their wintry warlike Stations drawn T'appear near Tongeren in fierce Array . Full of that conqu'ring Spirit they appear'd , Which drove the vanquish'd French or'e Blenheim's Field . And in their Eyes a penetrating View Might easily discern their Triumphs past , And their amazing Victory to come . All Nature seem transported at that Sight , For Tyranny , Oppression , Discord , Fraud , Injustice , Violence , and Barbarous Rage Are all about to be expell'd the Earth , And in their room Simplicity and Truth , Justice , Security and gentle Ease , And Peace and spotless Innocence , shall reign ; Therefore all Nature smil'd upon that Sight And Gods , and Men , and Earth , and Heav'n rejoyc'd . But Hell's black Tyrant soon took fierce Alarms Which to infernal Torments added Stings , And to infernal Fury fiercer Flames , And doubled the Damnation in his Breast . Upon the Steerage of his dusky Wings , Up thro' the Ocean of the Air he sails ; In the midway he stopt between the Moon's Resplendent Globe , and Earth's refulgent Ball , At his great Palace there by Magick hung . And thither a tremendous Council calls Of Friends who now were roaming round the Earth , In order to subject it to his Sway . Up strait upon the Wing the Spirits sprung At the Tartarean Trumpets thundring call , And high above the Atmosphere they flew , The World was in Convulsions at the Flight , Earth trembled , sigh'd the Air , the Ocean groan'd , Frequent , and full th'accurst Assembly grew , Direful Appearances , amazing Forms , Which barely seen had Pow'r to look Despair And Death into the Hearts of wretched Men , And wither in one moment all their strength . As soon as the Infernal Crew were sate , Up from his Throne th'outragious Tyrant rose , His wrathful Forehead to a Frown he roul'd That darken'd all the Sky , in fixing Plagues , Inexprimable Terrors thro' the Souls Of his Tartarean Ministers , that now With sable Wings their flaming Eyes they veil'd , And they who had th'obdurate Hearts of Fiends , They who to all Hells Horrours were Inur'd , They who eternal Torments could endure , They could not bear their raging Tyrants Wrath But shook like Men who frightful Fiends behold . Collected in himself a while he stood , But when the horrid Silence had prepar'd th'accurst Assembly for his dreadful Voice Thus from his Breast his Rage in Thunder broke . Are ye assembled then at my dread Call ? By Hell I thought ye durst t'have disobey'd , So light , so despicable in your Ears Has been of late the Tempest of my Voice . But ye not only are assembled here , But what is stranger , with those cruel Looks And that relentless Air , with which when last I met you here , you vainly made your Boast You would subdue the World to my Fell Sway , Would constitute me Universal King , And pull the Thunderer from his noisie Throne . Yes , yes , ye have the Looks and Meens of Fiends . But O dire Shame , to Hell , to me , to all ! Your Deeds are so unworthy the great Name , So Poor , so Mean , so almost dully Good , That one would swear ye were grown Friends to Men , And Servants to my Rival of the Sky ; Can ye be they who made your threatning vaunts , That e'er yon Planet turn'd about the Sun , ( With that he pointed to Resplendent Earth As tow'rds the East her Magnitude she rowl'd ) It a subjected Province should become , Like these bright Tracts of all surrounding Air , To our black Empire of the boundless Deep ? Can it be you who promis'd to or'erturn The Kingdom there establish'd by Heaven's King , Who there bears Sway wherever Reason rules ? Whose Empire is where ever Law commands ? For Reason is his secret whispering Voice , And Law his proud Command promulg'd to all ? Can it be you who promis'd to extend My Empire over all yon spotty Globe ? An Empire rul'd by Men instead of Laws , Where human Passion sways and human Will ; Passion infus'd by us , and Will by us Suggested and insensibly inspir'd ? Have ye perform'd what vauntingly ye swore ? No , tho' your Interest and your Glory both Demanded it : for know Aerial Gods , Where humane Passion reigns , and human Will , There we not only Reign but are Ador'd . Of this be sure Religion come from Heaven , Will ne'er support an Empire rais'd by Hell ; Nor can the dreadful Empire rais'd by us , Where Tyrant Man instead of Law controuls , Endure Religion that from Heav'n descends , Cast but your Eyes wherever we command ; And Man our Proxy reigns instead of Law ; There Men adore some vegetable Power , Or their old crazy Priest they make their God Or madly to Fanatick Prophets fall . There they bow down to Stocks and senseless Stones ; That is , to Us and our Delusions bow , And Tremble at the Gods they could create Why have ye then round Earth supinely roam'd Regardless of the grand Concern of Hell ? Or are your old seducing Arts forgot ? Or know ye not my Interests or your own ? Cast but your Eyes upon her Silver Globe , As through the vast Abyss of Sky she rouls , See that peculiar People chose by Heaven To propagate its Empire upon Earth , Which they , it seems , call Liberty , call Law See how with Hearts too large to be confin'd Within th'Eternal Fences of the Main , They pass the Limits of the boundless Deep , And every where my Rivals Rule extend ! Survey Earths shining Ball with sharpest Ken . What Portion of her Planet can ye find , But where the Glory of the British Name , Or of her Councils or her Arms resounds ? Look what ev'n now the Britons boldly Act In rough Germania , in Hesperian Land , In Celtiberian and in Belgian Fields ! Mark yon assembled Squadrons near the Dyle ! Behold the conquering Spirit in their Eyes ! Hell ! ye have suffer'd it to rise so high , 'Tis irresistible by human Powers Unless by our Auxiliar Bands sustain'd . See yonder their accurst Commander comes , And yonder Conquest towring or'e him flies , Whose well known Voice , the Goddess strait obey As at his Master's call the Falcon stoops , And his August Appearance is the Lure That brings her swiftly rushing from the Skies . If once he joyns those Squadrons we are lost , His high Appearance , when they once behold , Hell can shew nought so Dreadful and so Dire As can dismay the greatness of their Souls . Ye Hosts of Terrors , ye remember well , That when our fierce Auxiliar Bands sustain'd Our dear Allies in Blenheim's deathless Field , The Britons , though to every human Power , Invincible , were forc'd to yield to Ours ; But when great Marlborough came impetuous on , And rallied them with that Heroick Air With which he fires the Warlike Squadrons Souls : Ye Stygian Gods , what Miracles we saw , How they who Trembled but the Moment past , Before the King of Terror's awful view , Now fought like Gods above the reach of Fate ! His God-like Presence in a Moment rais'd Their sinking Spirits and dispell'd their Fears ; His Voice , his sole Appearance made them bold . With what resistless Fury they prest on : Drove you with matchless Bravery on our Friends ? Tho' I look'd on , and tho' I menac'd high , But all my clamour was in Thunder drown'd , Till French and Fiends together vanish'd all , And Howling sunk thro' Danube's Ghastful yawn Down to our Empire of the Nether Deep . Ye know , ye Stygian Gods , and oft have read , Within the Adamantine Book of Fate , That more amazing Wonders are reserv'd To be perform'd by Marlborough's conquering Arm , Unless with all our Power we interpose . Lewis by me , and Destiny design'd , T'extend my Empire and exalt my Name , Above all Names that are ador'd on Earth ; Lewis , the Great , the Wise , the second Hope of Hell , The Man , the Monarch after my own Heart ; Who never yet transgrest my dread Com ¦ mands , But makes them his Employment all the Day , And Meditation all the watchful Night ; He , the great Image of my self express , Presumptuous , Fraudulent , Revengeful , Proud , Implacable , Inexorable , False , Ev'n greatly and heroically False : Who watchful as a roaring Lion roams With Jaws expanded to devour his Prey , And makes Religion his Pretence for Fraud , For Cruelty , for dire Revenge , for Murder , And every noble , every slagrant Vice ; O way to banish Virtue from the World ! O great Invention envied ev'n by me ! His Genius now from Marlborough's Genius shrinks , And unless we support him , he must fall : And can we then forsake th'Immortal Man ? Ah no ! such Merit claims that at his Need To guard him from our fierce insulting Foes , We raise the noble Arrierban of Hell . If Lewis falls , our Empire with him sinks , We meet a second more opprobrious Fall , For ev'n from Earth , for ev'n from Dust we fall . O shameful Fall for us who aspir'd to Heaven , For us who made Divinity our Aim ! Then Law and Reason will victorious reign , Then Liberty eternal will become . Then odious Virtue will possess the Earth , And every glorious Vice be driv'n to Hell . Exert your selves , ye Furies then , and act Deeds worthy the Antagonists of Heaven . Can ye forget ? what ? utterly forget What once we acted , and what once we were ? Ah no ! ye never can , for in your Breasts Some Spirits unextinguish'd yet remain , Some of those Godlike Spirits that inspir'd Our Angel minds in that Eternal Field , When girt with Adamant and glorious Flames , Against the Empire of great Heaven we fought . I must confess we lost th'Immortal Day , But yet , we fought , ye Stygian Gods , we fought With Spirit equal to the vast Design . Fate gave our Enemy the Field , but Ours , Ours was the Triumph , and the Glory Ours Of great , aspiring , unexampled Minds Who dar'd against the Omnipotent to War . Can ye remember this ? Can ye reflect That ye for Angels were an equal Match , And yield at last to Man , to Woman yield ? For 'tis a Woman , O ye Pow'rs , destroys This mighty Champion of our Cause and Us ; For she directs , she animates , she fires Those who o're Earth the Rule of Heav'n extend . 'Tis she who out of pure Despight to me , Contemns a boundless Arbitrary Reign , And thinks it lovelier Empire , fairer Fame , Upon my Rival poorly to depend , Poorly to wear a Crown that Law may Rule , And to make Reason and th'Almighty Reign , Than be her self a Soveraign Goddess own'd And by the Kingdoms of the Earth ador'd . Had ye the Spirit with which once ye flam'd , There needed not this long and pow'rful Speech The Godlike Cause in which ye stand engag'd , The Cause of Empire and Eternal Fame , Would move alone your Adamantine Hearts , And urge you to great Acts , tho' I were Mute , Behold yon World , that fluctuates in the void Know that's the Victor's Recompense Decreed , Now see your Female Adversary there , See her a Suppliant , Earnest , Humble , Meek , Behold her Prostrate , Abject on her Knees , And Trembling at that Monarch of the Sky Whom so magnanimously we defy . No , ye can ne're see this and not disdain That she should make that floating World a Heav'n , Which we so greatly strive to make a Hell . Thus he blasphem'd aloud , and while he spoke Th'Assembly all the several movements felt The various Passions that their direful King , Who knew so well their Hearts design'd t'Inspire Now pleas'd , now sad , now trembling , now enrag'd With Envy wrack'd , or burning with disdain , Or with desire of fierce Revenge inflam'd . When he had done , unanimous they rent The troubled Aether with a stormy Shout , And to the Heaven of Heavens defiance hurl'd , When suddenly a burst of Thunder broke From the Empyrean , and th'avenging Bolt Thro' thousands drives , and thousands lightning Blasts ; Then as a flock of timerous Fowl takes Wing , And seeks the inmost Covert of the Grove , On hearing of the Fowler's fatal Gun , That had of old their tender pinions gall'd ; So on the Wing th'infernal Angels sprung Upon the Empyrean Thunders roar , And sought the midmost Regions of the Air , And the black Hemisphere and Realms of Night But soon their impious daring they resum'd , And up once more to the pure Aether slew . Among the rest , there was a fantom Dire Of all that fell from Heav'n the fiercest Fiend , The fiercest and most cruel Fiend that fell , Discord , the Daughter of dire Lucifer , Begot when his prodigious Lust ran high On Pride , when with her hottest Flames she burn'd ; Gigantick was her Stature and her Looks Like Demogorgon's were , at which Hell shakes . Her Native Country was the Heav'n of Heav'ns , But Heav'n , as soon as born , disclaim'd the Fiend , With Lightnings and with Thunders drove her out , For Happiness still flies the raving Fiend , And Peace and Joy with her can never dwell . As from her Birth she was expell'd from Heaven So by her cruel Father's dire Decree , She banish'd was from all the Bounds of Hell , As one who might elsewhere far better serve , The growing Empire of her dreadful Sire , But at her parting , half her Serpent Brood She left behind , and to the very Heart Her own inexorable Father stung , That with the Torment ever since he roars . Thus banish'd from high Heaven , and driv'n from Hell , She among miserable Mortals dwells , A false and most inhospitable Guest , Who all her warmest Friends torments the most : Tho' banish'd from her Father's Realms below , Yet not one Fiend of all th'infernal Host Endeavours to extend , with so much Zeal , The spreading Empire of Hell's horrid sway . To others , or her self , no Rest sh' allows , Alternately afflicted with th'Extreams , Of burning Fury , and tormenting Fear , And sharp Remorse , with all her deadliest Stings , Arm'd all the Fears and Furies of her Soul ; To this infernal Council she was call'd : And when the Whirlwind of Applause was o're , Up rose the Subtle and the Cruel Fiend . As rising , her Gorgonian Head she shook , With all its Snakes , that from their livid Eyes , Shot Hell's blue Fire , and from their baleful Mouths Darted a Thousand forky poisnous Tongues , A thousand Hisses at th'Assembly threw ; Each frighted Spectre gave a fearful Start , As a poor Swain that underneath his Feet , Spies a fell Adder bloated with his Rage ; And lifting up his angry Crest on high , Springs back , while to his Heart his Blood retires And none but Lucifer himself had Pow'r , To cast one look npon the raging Fiend , And he himself grew Stupid at the sight , Like old Laoeoon's dismal Statue look'd , That seems not fashion'd by the Sculptor's Art , But shews a Wretch with Horror stupid grown , And petrified with Woe and with Despair , And as the hideous Hag began to Scream , Th'accurst Assembly gave a second Start , Th'accurst Assembly gave a dreadful Yell : With equal fright shall all th'Infernal Host , And equal Horror hear at the last Day , The sounding clangour of th'Eternal Trump , Which universal Nature shall untune , And the bad Angels roaring drive to Hell , Then bar the Gates with Adamantine Bolts , Which then shall to Eternity be clos'd . Such was her Air unutterably dire , And such her hideous Voice , and thus she spoke . Have we the Patience then of stupid Saints , Ye Gods , to hear all this without Reply ? Nay , our insulting Tyrant to applaud , For his unjust and barbarous Reproach ? But this , tho' spoke to all , is meant to me ; For without me , not all the Host of Hell Has pow'r t'enlarge its dreadful Monarch's sway . Am I of want of Knowledge then accus'd , Or want of Diligence t'extend thy Pow'r ? O burning Indignation ! O Disdain ! O slander , worthy of dire Lucifer ; And darst thou thus accuse me falsly here , Upon this Throne of thy Imperial Pow'r , Encompass'd with ten Thousand Spirits round , By mighty Angels serv'd , and ev'n by me ? From whence is all this Pomp , this Pow'r deriv'd ? This Emulation of the Thunderers State ? Before I knew thee , what wert thou in Heav'n ? A servile Ministrel bred to Cringe and Fawn , And flatter thy proud Arbitrary Lord . But I an Emperor made thee of a Slave ; Of a base Flatterer , a Blasphemer bold , The Rival and the Antagonist of him , Whom thou so slavishly obey'dst before . Millions of Angels to thy side I drew , I gave them Spirit to assert thy Cause Against thy thundring Rival and his Slaves ; In that eternal Day , which tho' we lost , We triumph'd in defeat ; O matchless Fame ! For we dissolv'd his universal Sway , An Empire by our overthrow we gain'd : And thou a poor precarious Lord before Becam'st the independant King of Hell . I founded thy Dominion upon Earth , I propagate in humane Hearts thy Sway : For where I dwell not , thou canst never reign ; No , there dull Union dwells , there lazy Peace And Reason , and thy hated Rivals Law . Have I not Lewis now for fifty Years Inspir'd , possessing all his mighty Soul ? I fir'd that Soul to all those vast Designs That made it worthy thee , and worthy me . His sanguinary Orders I inspir'd , And then perform'd them with this Bloody hand , And all the European World laid bare . 'Twas I embru'd his fierce dragooning Slaves , In Fathers and in Brothers guiltless Blood : A Sea of guiltless Blood this Hand has spilt : Thy Rival's Images by Millions I In Rancour to th'Original defac'd , That thou might'st Triumph o're the vanquish'd World , And Lewis might thy great Vicegerent Reign . If now he flies before victorious Anne , Can I with Justice be condemn'd or blam'd ? Think'st thou 'tis to the Woman that I yield ? No , 'tis to him from whom thou fledst amain , With this Assembly here of potent Gods , And all the great , th'united Host of Hell . 'Tis to that Wisdom , and that Power Divine , Which Day and Night on that victorious Queen , As on the conquering Hierarchies attends ; Is it my Fault if that Religious Queen , By ev'ry Action and by ev'ry Voice , Inspires her Britons with Celestial Love ? If by thy Rival she is taught t'employ , Great Souls by him and Destiny design'd , And by profoundest depths of Reason fit , T'unite her Subjects first , and then Mankind ? Am I to be condemn'd , if while Abroad Great Marlborough in indissoluble Bonds , The thwarting Interests of the Nations joyns ? At Home Godolphin temperates the rage Of Factions , which for Mastery contend , And makes Confusion , which is weakness , yield To Order , which is Strength , as he Above The Rage of warring Atoms reconcil'd ; Or causing them t'engage with moderate Strife ; Yet Strife , where that prevails , which most agrees With those eternal Laws that Rule the Whole , Mingled the Elements , and made the World . I freely own , that those our Mortal Foes Grow more pernicious to us every Hour . They are come t'Associate now with William's Friends ; William , whose Name we Fiends with Horror hear ; Ev'n with his firmest faithfullest Friends they advise Who never shrunk from his detested side , Tho' with a thousand Dangers compast round , By home-bred Traytors and by foreign Foes . Th'audacious Men , who insolently dar'd To set up Liberty and pull down us , When France and Hell reign'd Paramount on Earth , When they had nought but Ruine to expect From such a cursed desperate Attempt : With these they now consult , in these confide , And these victorious Anne delights t'employ . To Spain she Mordant and Ravigni sends , And Montague himself to German Plains Is hurried , in extream despight to me , Where his wise Councils and his pow'rful Voice Threaten my very Being to destroy , And menace all this dreadful Host in me . Therefore unless we make one last Effort , One great Attempt that's worthy of my Rage , Britain Farewel , and Tyranny Adieu , Adieu , the Reign of Hell's despotick Sway ! Britain Unanimous as well as Free , Will soon Enfranchise and Unite the World , But not the pow'rfullest Fiend of all that fell From Heav'n , of all that own thy boundless Sway , Dares make that horrible Attempt but I . And now , ev'n now , I form the glorious Plan , As the Confederates by uniting Thrive , Success continuing will Cement them more : But their Felicity to come , depends Upon yon Squadrons in the Belgian Plains ; Should they th'adverse Event of Battle feel , All that Great Anne has done t'unite Mankind , I can with Ease in one Campaign o'rethrow . Yon Squadrons I have view'd and have review'd With all the Inquisition of my Eyes . I view'd them , and I sigh'd , to find their Heads And Hearts united by great Marlborough's Care , Which makes them the just Terror of us all . But here by Hell , and all Hell's Pow'rs I swear , Hear it ye God's , who rule the unbounded Air , Hear it ye Horrors of th'Abiss profound , Ye black Attendants on Eternal Night ! Hear it ye Deities , assembled here In Council , to maintain Hell's horrid Sway ! And thou whom all these dreadful Pow'rs obey , Whose Frown makes Gods above , and God below , And all the frighted Universe , except The stedfast Empyraean Tremble ; Hear , Hear me great Lucifer , while by thy self , Thy dire inviolable self I swear That I with Spirit great as the Design , Great as the glorious Cause , and worthy me , I that audacious General will destroy , I those victorious Squadrons will o'rethrow , And still in spight of Earth , in spight of Heav'n , Discord , and Lucifer , and Hell shall reign . She said , and not expecting a Reply , Down tow'rds the Earth she wheel'd her airy Flight ; And Lucifer dismiss'd th'Infernal Pow'rs . The End of the First Book .
LIB. II . NOW in the midmost Region of the Air , Descending Discord meets the Beldame Night , As Westward she her Sable Chariot drives , Old Night the Fury places by her side , And her black shaggy Mantle o'r her throws . As Discord sat by the dark grizly Hag , Discord more hideous seem'd , and Night more foul . As they were hurried by their coal black Steeds , And the soft Chariot slid thro' Midnight Air , A motley Equipage before , behind , And on each side the Journeying Furies flew . For there flew Treason with her looks askew , And Subornation clad in dismal Black , And Stygian Envy of a livid Hue ; And yellow Jealousy with Eyes suffus'd , And faithless Fraud in particolour'd Robe , And Murder pale distain'd with sanguine Dye , And ugly Slander speckled like a Toad , With livid Spots upon a saffron Hue Over her Arms , her Belly , and her Thighs ; But Serpentine her Head and deadly Eyes , And from her Mouth she hurl'd her forky Tongue , And hideous was her Hiss , and mortal was her Sting . Then lame Adultery , and Incest blind , And sly Hypocrisy , with Holy Leer , Came lagging in the Rear with Reverend Gown , And darting many a sow'r Grimace he flew , And sigh'd profoundly with inverted Eyes , And bang'd his Stomacher with sounding Strokes ; But all affected was , and all was false ; For nervous were his Limbs , and bold his Brow ; His dimpled Cheek was of Vermilion Dye ; His Chin a Fabrick with two Stories built ; His wanton Eye-balls sparkled as they roll'd ; His pamper'd side was with a sevenfold Shield , Defended of impenetrable Brawn ; His Paunch was prominent above the rest , And like a goodly Promontory hung . The Silver Moon above th'Horizon peep'd , And frighted at the monstrous Scene retir'd ; The conscious Stars withdrew their sickning fires , And Nature that abhorr'd the dismal sight , Redoubled all the Terrors of the Dark . As o're Campania's Viney Downs they flew , The Centinels of Nature took the Alarm , The watchful Dogs in ev'ry Village bay'd , And hungry Wolves forsook their Prey to Howl , And the wing'd Prophets of Nocturnal Sky , The fatal Raven croak'd , the ghastful Scriech-Owl scream'd . When to the glittering Palace they approach'd , Where Lewis in a restless slumber lay Upon th'uneasy Down , from the black Carr Discord alights , the golden Turrets shook , The Doors flew open with a hollow Groan , And the Fiend enter'd where the Tyrant lay . Then throws off her immense Gigantick Form , And the Gorgonian Terrors of her Front , And Maintenon appears in Shape and Air ; And she , who a fall'n Angel was before , Is a decay'd affected Beauty now . When she the Royal Curtains drew , she saw The Tyrant tossing on the restless Plume ; Haughty and Stern , and thoughtful ev'n in Sleep ; Revolving mighty Mischiefs in his Mind ; His Forehead furrow'd by an angry Frown , And on his clouded Brow sate cruel Care . And now and then he gave a fearful Start , And from his Heart drew many a guilty Groan . Ev'n Discord gaz'd with Pleasure at that sight , And the Fiend smil'd that never smil'd before . And canst thou Sleep in this malignant Hour , Said she , when ev'ry Star's against thee leagu'd ? How fall'n , how chang'd from that transcendant State , In which the gazing World admir'd thee once , When thou wert grown the Terror ev'n of Kings , And dreadful Scourge of the Worlds potent Lords ! When thou the Earth so rapidly laid'st waste , That Victory came panting in thy Rear , And wanted Wings t'o'rtake thy impetuous March , When Emulous of the Meridian Sun Thy Glory blaz'd , and thou had'st Hope to shine Sole Monarch of the desolated Earth , As he sole Tyrant of the desart Sky . Yet in those Happy , in those glorious Days , No profound Sleep could ever lull thy Soul , And rarely , rarely Slumber clos'd thy Eyes . But all the Day , and all the live long Night , Care kept thee watching , to inflame the World , And to divide and to destroy Mankind . Now by victorious Marlborough brought low , Here thou liest buried in inglorious Ease , While with unwearied Vigilance he wakes , And ev'n this now the vollied Thunder grasps , That is about to part with hideous Roar , And all thy trembling Provinces amaze ; Strike forty Thousand of thy Veterans dead , Strike ev'n thee dead their Arbitrary Lord , And with thy Person kill thy very Fame , Unless this Moment thou prevent'st the Blow . What fatal Hour is lost in soft Repose ? Has adverse Fortune cool'd thy tow'ring Pride , Or has Age quench'd thy noble Lust of Soul , And that aspiring Flame that rais'd thy Thoughts To Affectation ev'n of Godhead once ? Can he who aim'd erewhile at nothing less Than reigning King of Kings and Lord of Lords , Can he a Rival bear in Empire now ? And art thou to a poor Despondence grown , Of Lording it o'r all this Western World ? Yet hast thou Reason to despond indeed , Unless thou art eternally Intent To disunite whom thou pretend'st t'o'rthrow The few Gigantick Hunters of Mankind , Who universal Empire here acquir'd , All of them vast Advantages enjoy'd , Which Heav'n and Nature have deny'd to thee . Cyrus , great Caesar , and the Son of Jove , Young Hammon , led their conqu'ring Troops themselves , Were themselves brave , sometimes to Rashness Brave ; And the undaunted Squadrons which they led , When they were Conquerors , were always free , And could a more exalted Virtue boast Than those who yielded to their conqu'ring Arms . But here Thou li'st supinely at Thy Ease , And buried in opprobrious Sloath , pretend'st To do thy Work by Journey men of War ; Yes , by Thy baffled Mareschals Thou pretend'st , Day Labourers , who for Thy Glory drudge , To conquer Heroes fighting for their own , Fierce Warlike People , Thou pretend'st t'o'rcome By the Inhabitants of soft Anjou , Or Squadrons in delicious Touraine bred , And by dejected and desponding Slaves , Freeborn magnanimous Nations to o'rthrow ; But Freemen ne're were vanquish'd yet by Slaves , Nor Warlike Nations by a wanton Crew . If in thy great Designs Thou would'st succeed , Divide those Foes , and fight them with themselves , Then by each others Arms enslave them all , And what Thou want'st in Personal Command , Or Valour ; or the Hardness of Thy Troops , Supply by Fraud and old notorious Arts . But take Occasion by the Forelock still , And let no Minute pass , no Moment slip , That may be employ'd to disunite their Force , And by dividing to confound their Pow'r . Such an important Moment is This now , In which Thou liest dissolv'd in fatal Sleep , The Reins of Empire yielding up to Chance , And dead and stupid to the Charms of Fame . But tho' thou slumber'st , know I always wake And Day and Night or'e thy dear Interest brood To cherish it like tender Birds their Young . And now am come , thou dearest of Mankind , Dearer than Pleasure to me , dear as Pride , Dear as the Godlike Pleasure of Revenge , Am come to rouze Thee from thy inglorious Ease , And my own Empire to advance in Thine . True , said the Tyrant , who had all this while Been shaking off the Downey Bands of Sleep , If that a strong Desire to Rule the World , Inspires and Agitates my High-born Soul , 'Tis but to lay it at thy Lovelier Feet , And that the Ruler of the Land and Main May be a happier Slave and worthier Thee . And let the boundless Liberty you take , Which had been Death to any one but Thee , Declare the Boundless Pow'r thy wondrous Charms Have given Thee o're ev'n my ambitious Soul . But why do'st Thou , who hast the Pow'r to pierce The intimat'st Recesses of my Heart , Who rul'st it with as Arbitary Sway As I my self would all the World controul , So cruelly upbraid me without Cause ? Canst thou believe , I poorly have giv'n o're My great Design of Universal Sway ? Canst Thou believe I lie extended here Out of a low inglorious Indolence , Or mean Despondence of Success , which ne'r Can seize a towring fiery Soul like mine ? No , never shall my Soul Abatement feel Of its high Passion for eternal Fame , But as I Thee adore with fiercer Flame Than all that in my warmest Youth I felt , Ev'n for the brightest of Thy charming Sex , For Montespan , or lovely La Fontange , Or tender La Valiere , so Age it self Does but augment my noble Lust of Fame ; 'Tis my first Principle of Life , by which I speak , and move , and act , and think , and am , And Lewis , when that fails , must be no more . O could I but the Weaknesses suppress Of this frail Flesh , and conquer the Desire And Need of Nutriment and soft Repose , As I th'Infirmities have overcome Of my great Mind , extinguishing Remorse , Driving Compassion out , and stifling Shame , Then without Interval the glorious Cares Of Empire should employ my Aspiring Soul , Under which now sometimes my Nature sinks , And I by sordid Elements are forc'd To feed the thinking Parts expiring Flame , And seek new Life within the Arms of Death . But soon I shake off his dull Chains , and then At once to Life and Glory I return . Whether 'twas partial Destiny or Chance That gave Victorious Marlborough the Day In a dire Hour , at Bleinem's fatal Field , ( O fatal Field to all my Aspiring Thoughts , I will forget that ever Thou hast been , And think of Universal Sway again ) Yet to the Terror of my wondring Foes , I still recover'd that amazing Blow , Renew'd the fainting Courage of Troops , My Loss recruited and retriev'd my Pow'r . Me canst Thou then of Indolence accuse , Or of Despondence or abated Fire ? Me , whose unwearied Care has since opprest The Dilatory Germans on the Rhine ; Opprest them on Verona's wondring Stream , And oblig'd Fortune , in her own Despight , Against her worthless Favourites to declare . O I had laid a Scheme which would have sunk , And utterly confounded all my Foes , If Fate in Tempests had not interpos'd , Upon th' Adige and the Rhine I fought . Only with Men , and there I found Success , In Spain I was constrain'd to yield to Heav'n , For 'twas the loud Artillery of Heav'n That from me snatch'd the Celtiberian Tow'r , And baffled my whole Providence at once ; But whence can this transporting Fury Spring , Or what makes this the great deciding Hour ? To whom the Fury eagerly reply'd : By that disastrous Disappointment Spain , The Pride for which contending Nations fight , Depends upon this very fatal Hour , Which here Thou squander'st in inglorious Ease . Spain is in utmost Danger to be lost , Unless Thou rousing wilt prevent the Blow . And Spain in Danger will deject our Friends , And give more daring Spirit to our Foes ; And bind them in indissoluble Bonds . Consider how they all prepare t'Unite , England and Scotland stretch their Sinewey Arms , Both eager in a strict Embrace to meet , And for the future like two Sisters live ; By their great Mother's Wisdoms reconcil'd . In England too by wise Godolphin's Care , Faction has lost its Ferment and grows mild ; The very Tygress Faction is grown tame ; The Listless Germans whom thy wondrous Arts So nobly have divided and brought low , Some lucid Intervals of Concord find , And publick Spirit and Will surely leave , Their shameful Quarrels and opprobrious Sloath , If Spain should from thy baffled Arms be torn , That Loss will calm the fierce Hungarian's Rage , And Spirit jealous Venice to declare Against th'Invader of fair Italy . If Spain the Golden Prize of Battles lost , No Stratagem , nor Violence , nor Art , Can thy exhausted Treasury Supply . And then thy numerous Armies vanish all , And leave Thee to the Scorn of thy proud Foes , Even thy own Slaves ( and that's the Blow of Fate ) Ev'n thy own vile obsequious Slaves will rise And take rebellious Arms against their King : Then from the Pyrenaeans to the Rhine . Adieu Thy Conquests , and perhaps Thy Crown , But nought , assure thy self can Spain retrieve , But a surprizing and stupendous Blow Struck suddenly upon the Belgian Dyle . A sudden and surprizing Blow struck there , While this the great Campaign of Fate be ¦ gins Will give thee sure occasion to detach Part of thy conqu'ring Troops to Philip's Aid , To push thy Advantage on th'astonish'd Rhine , Thy Friend the lost Elector to restore , And penetrate to inmost Austria's Clime , Which then in vain shall wait great Marlborough's Aid , That will constrain the Empire to recal The new Supplies to Illustrious Eugene sent , And give thee time to finish Savoy's Fate . That fatal Blow will once again divide Confederated Pow'rs , will Venice awe , Exasperate the fierce Pannonian Mars , Amaze the Germans , and the Dutch confound , Prevent that Union now design'd between The English and the Caledonian States , And in both Realms rekindle factious Rage , Rouze up thy sleeping Arbitrary Friends , Ferment them still with more fanatick Rage , That our declining Empire will sustain , And will advance thro' all the Christian World , And wipe away the Stains of Bleinem's shameful Day . To whom the grizly Tyrant thus reply'd : O why hast thou once more so rashly rouz'd The Serpent slumbring in my wounded Breast , Which when awake still gnaws my mangled Heare , And greedily devours my vital Blood . O Bleinem ! bane to my aspiring Thoughts ! At whose Idea all come tumbling from their Height . Bleinem ! the Hag that in the dead of Night , My Fancy rides and drives soft Sleep away ; The very Tyrant of my ambitious Soul , Blast to my Hopes of Universal Sway , Which wither ail and die when thou appear'st , And only by forgetting thee Revive . 'Twas there by such a rash presumptuous Fight , As what thou now provok'st me to Repeat , That forty Thousand of my conqu'ring Troops , That always conquer'd till that cursed Hour , Were , like ripe Corn in Autumn , mow'd in Heaps ; Those Heaps in Ranks extended on the Plain , Too plenteous Harvest of that bloody Field ? Which broke the Hearts and Spirits of the rest , And interrupted all my vast Designs , Made all my Friends despond , my Foes insult , And laid my Weakness open to the World : For as my greatness , and my awful Pow'r , Lay in Opinion more than real Strength , Th'Opinion which the Nations had conceiv'd , Fortune was grown Immutable as Fate , And always would attend my conqu'ring Arms , That fatal Days Calamitous Event , Undeceiv'd all the Christian World at once , And made me grow the very Scorn of those To whom I was most Terrible before . Me would'st thou have repeat , the dangerous risk Of Battle , when thou hast thy self observ'd , That to subdue , I must divide my Foes , And then enslave them by each others Arms , That warlike Nations ne'r were Vanquish'd yet By softer Ones , nor Free born Souls by Slaves ; Know'st thou not then , that to divide my Foes , I must remain , not only without Fight , But without War , O Gods , for that blest Hour ! One short liv'd Truce would more advance my Fame , And spread my Empire , than ten Victories . He said , and thus the subtle Fiend reply'd : True , if Fallacious Truce thou could'st obtain , I before Victory would Truce advise ; But since thy Foes have been so oft betray'd , And mock'd , all Hope of faithless Peace is vain , Therefore the Mischief ill Success has done , Must be by sudden Victory repair'd . Nor need'st thou run a dangerous risk to o'recome , What lost the fatal Day at Blenheim's Field ? What but Presumption grown from long Success , Which caus'd thee to abandon thy old Arts , And vainly to rely on fanci'd Power ; Because Aetheral Victory had oft Perch'd on thy waving Streamers , when thy Troops , By odds of Numbers overwhelm'd their Foes , By long Success grown insolently vain ; Thou fondly thought'st t'o'recome on equal Terms , Unknowing of the Troops thou wert t'engage , And wondrous Merit of their matchless Chief . Hence the Disaster of that Fatal Day ; But when to your old Methods you return'd , With them Success and Victory return'd . For the prevented Germans you surpriz'd Upon th' Adige and th'astonish'd Rhine , And both their Armies easily o'rethrew , Both by superior Numbers overwhelm'd , And in their Leaders Absence both opprest . Ruine th'Allies upon the Belgian Plains Opprest by the same Odds , before their Chiefs Arrive , before their various Pow'rs are join'd . Then with Success return to thy old Arts , And by Division break their potent League , Thy Orders strait to the Bavarian send Thy numerous Belgian Garrisons to drain , And swell thy Troops assembling on the Dyle ; Then as a Torrent to a Deluge swell'd , Disdains its Banks , and makes its roaring way With dreadful Devastation , so may they , Scorning their Lines , o'reflow th'adjacent Plains , While Desolation marks their hideous Course , And the surpriz'd Confederate Forces leave The same eternal Monument of Pow'r , Which at Morat the fam'd Burgundians left . But Rouze , lay hold upon this fatal Hour , Think that the very next may be too late : This Hour great Marlborough for his Camp sets forth , Whom thou must still industriously avoid , Avoiding Marlborough , Lewis may be Great ; Thou hast already felt his nervous Arm , Whose towring Genius all the Genii dares , Of thy weak Marshals , which before it Cow'r ; He the great Qualities alone enjoys , Of all thy Chiefs who are , and who have been . Great Conde's Spirit and his wondrous Fire , Joyn'd with that Presence of commanding Soul , That keeps intirely Master of it self , And Master of the furious God of War ; When with dire Looks , and with a dreadful Roar , He Foams , and all the God runs mad with Rage . Great Marlborough has Luxemburgh's dispatch , His subtle Turns , and his sagacious Views ; The Wisdom and Sedateness of Turenne , His dauntless Valour with his Thought profound , And vast Capacity , and all that Skill , So admirable in the Art of Death , Which fix'd th'inconstancy of Fortunes Will , And made her doat on Wisdom's Charms divine . Rouze thy self then , beware that fatal Man , Issue thy dread Commands this Moment out , And let the great deciding Blow be given , E'r Destiny and Marlborough arrive . The Fury said , the Tyrant gave Consent , To the Bavarian strait his Orders sends , His numerous Belgian Garrisons to drain , And swell his Troops assembling on the Dyle , Which to the Army , thro the dreary Shades , Thence to the various Towns the impetuous Daemon bore . The End of the Second Book .
LIB. III . AURORA had not painted yet the World , With various Dyes , restoring ev'ry Hue , That Night had with her miscreant Hand expung'd ; Nor were th'Attendants on the Night retir'd , The starry Host of Heav'n , and Host of Hell ; And still the wakeful Dog took soft Repose , And still the prouling Wolf persu'd his Prey , No Shepherds Pipe was on the Mountains heard , Nor Hunters Bugle in the Ecchoing Vales ; When the shrill Trumpet rouz'd up drowsy Mars , Death's Bugle in the Chase of Humane Blood , The Beasts of Nature to their Dens retir'd , And the whole Forrest trembled at the sound : The Beasts of Nature fear'd , alas , in vain , Tho' Fate a solemn Hunting had prepar'd , For Man the Huntsman was , and Man the Prey . Before the Dawn , throughout the Belgian Plains , The Garrisons their Tyrants Voice obey ; Forth from their several Fortresses they march , From Oudenard , Courtray , Dendermond , and Liere , From Brussels , Louvain , Mechlin , Antwerp , Ghent . Belgia , that lately cast to Heav'n her Eyes For Help , her Eyes , for Chains her Arms restrain'd ; Belgia , the Mother of a Hundred Towns , Now Beautiful , and Rich , and Great , and Gay , Once more with secret Pride her Sons surveys , And once more boasts of her Immortal Race ; That joyous lift their towry Fronts on high , As when kind Nature by the help of Art , And secret Influence of indulgent Heav'n , Throws off a long and dangerous Disease ; Once more she to her self delightful grows , And once more Beauty and long absent Grace , And Strength and Joy , unspeakable return ; So the disburthen'd Belgian Towns rejoyc'd , From which the Squadrons march by several Ways , To reach the Camp by false Bavaria form'd , And there like Torrents in the Ocean joyn : Now a more potent numerous Host they seem'd , Than that with which the Son of Jove , the East , Or mightier Julius overcame the West . Confiding in their Numbers they grow Fierce , Haughty , Presumptuous , insolently Vain , And their dilated Hearts distend with Pride , Their Lines disdaining with a Roar they pass , And the mad Torrent tow'rds Ramillia rowls : They the Confederate Troops resolve t'attack , Before their various Nations all are joyn'd ; Before victorious Marlborough arrives . Now , with a chosen few , rides Villeroy , And falfe Bavaria , to survey th'Allies ; With hideous Air , and with Gigantick Stalk , Before them the infernal Goddess strides . Approach'd Victorious Malborough she finds Arriv'd , and curses the provoking sight , She finds that from His Presence all the Troops Assume Immortal Spirit , and an Air So dreadful that it makes ev'n Furies shake , Ev'n her the fiercest Fiend of all the Damn'd . Now Discord to the Gallick Camp return'd The false Bavarian's Shape and Air assumes , And thus she Anxious Villeroy accosts . Hast thou observ'd , how yon Confederate Troops Inferiour in their Numbers far to ours , Yet carry Conquest in their flaming Eyes ; And yet their Veteran and their Boldest Troops Have often fled before the Gallick Pow'r , Whence now this Spirit , this Superiour Fire ? From Liberty the Mareschal strait replys , 'Tis from the Bravery of the English Troops , Who with Immortal Liberty inspir'd , And with the Love of Glory all inflam'd , Infect the Nations with Their noble Fire , As Man was form'd to Lord it over Beasts Freemen were pre-ordain'd to vanquish Slaves , And this th'event had shewn in William's Reign Had but His honest Mind suspected Thee . To whom the Fury instantly reply'd , 'Tis true , the English merit all our Praise , A Nation Fierce , Magnanimous and Free , Valiant from Freedom , from their Climate Brave , Who in their fierce Attacks with Fury made , And in their firmness to sustain the Efforts Of their outragious and their pressing Foes , Equal the Warlik'st Nations of the World , But in their Rallying Rage surpass them all . Your Gallick Troops with Fury know t'assault , But never yet endur'd the fierce Attacks Of their bold Foes when obstinately urg'd , Our Germans with much Constancy sustain But when our Squadrons once are broke they'r lost , The English Rally still with greater Rage Than they at first attack th'astonish'd Foe , While with their eager Shouts the Welkin rings . As a fierce Bull who furiously contends For the fair She that has his Heart subdu'd , And for the Empire of the Flow'ry Meads , Recedes from his proud Rival to return With more impetuous Shock , more dreadful Rage While with His clash the ecchoing Vale resounds , So when the Britons from the Field retreat They rally with no less amazing Fire . But the great Changes of the World below Are brought about by Heav'n and not by Man ; For 'tis a Jealous God who rules the Sky , Jealous of Glory and in Love with Praise . And when the Wonders of his Might He shews And brings to pass astonishing Events , Events which all the under World amaze , 'Tis not by Strength of Nations that He works For that would look meer Human Might to all ; But by select Celestial Spirits sent For that Design from His own Heav'n and form'd Of finer Clay , and in a nobler Mould Than are the vulgar Race of Mortal Men , And animated with Diviner Fire . That when to all th'astonish'd World they appear With more than Human Qualities endued , Th'astonish'd World may be constrain'd to own , And they themselves confess , that what they do Is by th'immediate Hand of Heav'n perform'd . The noblest Nations have deriv'd their Fame , And all their Greatness from the God-like few , And when These fail them , they are lost , undone , And grow the Scorn of their Insulting Foes , Or are quite swallow'd in th'Abyss of Time . Mareschal , reflect on Ancient Days , and say , What wondrous Acts did Persians e're perform Before or after their great Cyrus reign'd ? Say , was not Macedon e're Philip sway'd Obscure , unworthy of the Voice of Fame ? And when victorious Alexander died , Did not its Spirit and its matchless Fame And Empire with the God-like Man expire ? The Romans ow'd the Glories of their State , And vast extent of Empire to a few . As by their noblest Writers is confest . As far as now fair England's Glory flies , What had it done before great Edward reign'd ? Except but His and Conqu'ring Henry's Days , Where was its Glory till Eliza came ? And by Her Wisdom and Heroick Mind Sustain'd the Freedom of the Lab'ring World . With Hers ev'n England's Life and Soul expir'd , And then its Neighbours meanly it betray'd , Or turn'd upon it self its own inglorious Arms , Till at the last the God-like William came , He came , and their declining Spirits rais'd , He gave them their Religion , and their Anne , She Freedom and the Might of Malb'rough gave . As William was betray'd , undone by me , Mareschal by us great Malborough too must fall , On which depends to morrow's fatal Day . For from His Presence yon audacious Troops Derive the dauntless Spirit in their Eyes , From which they flash intollerable Fire . Ev'n thou thy self , for I remark'd it well ; Thou wert agreeably surpriz'd and rais'd When his August Appearance thou beheld'st Worthy the Grandeur of th'immortal Mind , Commanding as the Form of the first Man , While His great Maker's Image He retain'd , And Empire sate upon his Lordly Brow , The World's Imperial Ruler and his own , Before Celestial Reason had been taught Her Subject Passion poorly to obey , And the degenerating Mind debas'd The Majesty and Empire of the Meen . When e're His Troops behold that noble Form , All His great Actions , all His high Exploits , Present themselves before their wondring Minds , Gelderland conquer'd with its warlike Towns , And Liege and Limbourgh as by Magick rise , And to their view present their stately Tow'rs , Dire Schellenbourg's impenetrable Fort Carried against the Choice of all our Pow'rs , And Bleinem's everlasting Day appears And stunns with Rapture their astonish'd Minds . The Trumpet with its Clangour tears their Ears , And then they charge , and once again they fight Their Battles o're , and triumph once again , And then the World wants force t'oppose their Pow'r , Whom to defeat we Malborough must destroy , For firmly yon audacious Troops believe 'Tis not from Fortune these Successes flow , But from the Wisdom of their wondrous Chief , His vast Capacity , his flaming Zeal , His restless Labour and perpetual Thought , His dreadless Spirit and His just Designs , Indeed so just have been His great Designs , So exquisite His Conduct , so profound , Not one false step in Four renown'd Campaigns , So bright His humble Modesty has shone In still consulting His Illustrious Friends , His Counsellors so few , so justly chose , His Secrets kept from the most piercing Eyes , His Constancy in executing all That has so well consulted been , so firm , His Spirit as a Captain so sublime And as a Souldier so Invincible , That Mareschal to remove Him we must Hire The fiercest and most desperate of thy Men , For my Bavarians will that Task refuse , Or Twenty Thousand of yon bravest Troops Will less obstruct our great Success than He . Hadst thou beheld at Bleinem's dreadful Field In the Distress of the stupend'ous Day , This matchless Man at once a prudent Chief And a most daring Combatant , supply With His own Valour ev'ry prest Brigade , Each brave Battalion of His fainting Host ; For wheresoever Death and Danger flew T'appall His Squadrons with their ghastly glare , There Malborough on the Wings of Thunder flew Till He brought Conquest back and won the Day , Till Fate He with Majestick Meen dispens'd , And seem'd the dreadful Delegate of Jove ; Hadst thou seen this at Bleinem's dreadful Field , Mareschal , thou wouldst of Victory despair , Or else conclude this fatal Man must die . But could'st thou with a sharp sagacious Eye Survey the wonders of his matchless Mind , What Apprehension then would pierce thy Breast , Then what Astonishment would strike thy Mind ? For , O the jarring Talents which appear , Uniting all their Factions in His Soul ! The Heat , the Cold , the Liveliness , the Weight , The Gravity , th'astonishing Dispatch , The Providence , the Intrepidity , The Fire and the Sedateness of His Soul , And the Revenging Thunder of His Might Discharg'd without a Tempest on His Breast , Or a black lowring Cloud upon His Brow ! Tempests without He raises and He calms , But His great Mind immovable remains . And these great Qualities by turns He shews , Not as His Fancy , Humour , Passion call , But guided all by Wisdom's sacred Law , As he who made this all the Seasons guides , And alters Hot and Dry , and Moist and Cold , By what the changing Universe requires . Is't possible we can a Moment doubt If we this dangerous General shall destroy , Who having these repugnant Talents joyn'd Confederated in his mighty Soul , Talents which none besides of Human kind Enjoys , appears design'd by all-wise Heav'n , Who nought creates in vain to perform Deeds Surpassing all the rest of Mortal Race . Who the great Qualities of twenty Chiefs Possessing still atchieves the Exploits of more , Whose Passion for his own accursed Cause So flaming is , so deadly is His Hate , And so invincible to us and ours , That not content to act in His own Sphere , And ev'ry Hour new Wonders to perform , He does the Duty with unwearied Pains Of Foreign Generals , which with all their Thought , And all the God-like Greatness of their Souls They were unable to perform themselves . Where-ever the Allies appear in Arms Their brave Battalians Malb'rough's Influence feel . With Him their noblest Actions they concert , He furnishes their bravest Chiefs with Troops , And with unhop'd for Treasure He supplies . Yet while to others He gives Pow'r to act His own unwearied Vigilence is such , His Care , His Labour , His eternal Thought , As if all others had refus'd to act , As if th'inimitable Man were left With Atlantean Shoulders to sustain The more than Mortal Burden of the War . Indeed whatever has been greatly done In Germany , or in the Belgian Plains , Has under his Auspicious Power been done : For He observing with Judicious Thought , That thro' a tedious War your Gallick Pow'rs By the Division of th'Allies prevail'd , Or ow'd Their Conquests to My secret Arts . Or by their Numbers gain'd their great Success , That They the Field eternally declin'd Unless by vast Advantages sustain'd , As conscious of the Weakness of their Cause , The Weakness of their boldest Veteran Troops And falseness of Imaginary Pow'r , Which Two set Battles fought on equal Terms Would soon demonstrate to the Christian World , That ev'n in Fight they close Engagement shunn'd Till they had tam'd their most intrepid Foes By odds of Numbers wearied and opprest , He this remarking with sagacious Thought His Conduct in each Point to theirs oppos'd , And chang'd the Form and Fortune of the War . By His eternal Vigilance His Troops Are still too numerous to be flank'd by ours ; And while He meditates His great Exploits , His secret , His impenetrable Heart Defended stands from Treason's piercing Eye , ( That Caution from great William's Fate he drew ) Then He the fatal Hour of Combat seeks And finds with penetrating Thought , or makes Either half-way , he Bald Occasion meets , Or like a Hunter He persues her Flight , Till she at Bay her clustring Forelock turns , Then in the dreadful Field assails your Pow'rs , Nor suffers you with Fury to assault ; For which you by the Christian World are fam'd . Nor wages then a cool and distant War , But presses on you with redoubled Might ; And in upon your firmest Squadrons breaks Till with his Horse their shatter'd Ranks he tears , Nor made by Nature , nor by Climate form'd The Thunder of such Fury to sustain ; And chiefly , which has render'd Him to us A dangerous and a formidable Foe , That no Divisions fraudulently sown Among th'Allies might hurt the general Cause , There is but one who breaths th'Aetherial Air , And ev'n that one is Malborough's second self , So careful to augment or to maintain Among the various Potentates abroad ; That Union which with a Celestial Voice Great Anna to her Brittains recommends ; He obviates growing Feuds , Dissensions grown He reconciles , the Interests He adjusts , And He concerts of each Confederate Pow'r , And in one general Interest mingles all , As Streams from East and West , and North and South , Are mix'd in Ocean's vast Abyss , and lost . He Nations , and their Kings , with Thoughts inspires , Above all little , selfish , low Designs , And fills them with a publick glorious Fire . In all these things the wondrous Man's concern'd , Which so destructive are to us and ours ; With so much Zeal , with such Assiduous Thought , With such unwearied Pains , no length of Time , Nor any Distance of Remotest Place , Nor the Intemperance of Heat and Cold , Nor Pleasures specious and alluring Bait , ( The God like Man , alas , no Pleasure knows , But what the Ruler of yon Heav'n pursues , To do great Good and Glory to acquire ) No , nor the base Ingratitude of those , Whom Day and Night He watches to preserve , Nor ought that Earth , nor ought that Hell invents ; Nought but the Stroke of Destiny alone Is able to obstruct His generous Course , Is able to retard His noble Speed In the Carrier of everlasting Fame . But with Himself He high Designs revolves , Or those who execute those high Designs With that familiar Greatness He receives , Which makes Him the Delight of all the Good , And the Felicity of all the Brave . As from these wondrous Talents in Him joyn'd All that astonishing Success proceeds Which is become the Darling Theme of Fame , The Theme on which th'eternal Talker doats , So by that high Success is Malbrough grown The Joy of all the Happy Nations round , The Hope and Consolation of the Rest , The Confident of the most Jealous States , The great Example of Earth's Demy-gods , And the just wonder of the Christian World . But with the Squadrons who his Voice obey So sacred His Authority is grown , So is He honour'd , lov'd , almost ador'd By the brave Souldier His adopted Care , Whom with a pious Father's tenderest Love He guards from Danger and from Want He shields , That when , nor Interests loud and pow'rful Voice , Nor smarting Shame , nor their dear Countrey's Love , Nor love of Glory longer can prevail Upon their fainting Spirits to sustain The fierce Attacks of our Assaulting Bands , His Meen , His great Appearance fires their Souls , His potent Voice the Squadrons new creates , Gives them new Life , new Spirit and new Hope , Nay , certainty of Conquest and of Fame , But Mareshal for some Time I have observ'd Surprize , and Joy , and Wonder in thy Eyes . To whom transported Villeroy replys ; Tis true , with Joy and Wonder I have heard Thy generous Praise of such a deadly Foe : For when so many English have been found Who have with basest Calumnies repaid His mighty Benefits as great and strong As ever Hero on his Country laid , That Thou shouldst do the glorious Hero right , Thou , who by force of His victorious Arm Art fall'n from such a Height , O whither fall'n ! Fall'n from thy Empire , from thy Glory fall'n , From those which Thou enjoy'dst , and from the Hope Of Those at which Thy vast Ambition aim'd , That thou shouldst do the wondrous Hero right , That thou shouldst draw the lovely Features like , And place the noble Piece in its true Light , Shews something so magnanimously great As all the generous English would extol , And God-like Malborough himself admire . To whom the Fury in Bavaria's Form , The Praise I merit not , I must refuse , 'Tis not a generous Frailty in my Mind , But great Revenge , the Attribute of Gods , That makes me just to Malborough's hateful Name . Small Generosity's requir'd to praise A Merit which by all the World's extoll'd , And which in spight of Slanders cankring Bite , Will be th'eternal Ornament of Fame . If keen Detraction could have hurt His Name Or Person , I Detraction would have us'd . For 'tis with bitterest Gall that I extol The Hero , whom to crush I must commend . Since Calumnies have been essay'd in vain , And Slanders of the blackest hue been tryed At once his Fame and Person to destroy , And against Both have signified no more Than Morning Mists against the Julian Sun , His rising Glory has dispell'd them all ; 'Tis time to try what Truth may effect at last , And on her own loud Champion turn her Arms . This Hero I in just proportions drew , That thou may'st be convinc'd by the rich Draught , The way t'attack th'Allies with wish'd Success Is this pernicious General to destroy , That whole Brigades less Dangerous are than He . That while yon Troops His noble Form inspires , They will Impenetrable still remain , And Fate will follow him as it does Jove . If then our Interest's pretious in our Eyes , If Victory has Charms for our great Minds , If Glory , if the vast , th'inspiring Cause For which great Lewis steels our nervous Arms , Which is the Empire of the Universe , Can thaw our Blood , our drooping Spirits raise , We must the boldest of your Men suborn This Formidable Hero to destroy , Or else expect a second Bleinem here , Thou wilt in shameful Bonds once more be led As thou by Conquering Eugene wert before , Or grow the Object of the Peoples Scorn And the Parisian Rabbles Headstrong Rage , And I shall from my Government be chas'd , As from Bavaria I before was driven . The Fury said , and Villeroy turn'd Pale , And look'd with Eyes unwilling to consent , Yet fearful to deny ; which when the Fiend Observ'd , she with Imperious Tone rejoyn'd , Think 'tis thy Absolute , thy Awful Lord , Tis Lewis who commands thee to obey , Canst thou assist an Arbitrary King , To make His boundless Will His only Law , And then examine if that Will be just ? Know'st thou