Classic Poem

Canto the Fourth

At length the veil from the deluded law
With active care by Aminander took,
The startled court in their own error saw
How lovely truth did in Argalia look.

The story of our youth discovered, he,
His merits yet in higher pitch to raise,
Morea's prince doth from a danger free,
Which unto death his noblest lords betrays.

That last sad night, the rigid law did give
The late reprieved Argalia leave to live,
Was now, wrapt in her own obscurity,
Stolen trom the stage of time, when light, got free
From his nocturnal prison, summons all
Almanzor's friends to see the longed for fall
Of the envied stranger; whose last hour was now
So near arrived, faint hope could not allow
So much of comfort to his powerful'st friend
As told her fears — she longer might suspend
His fatal doom. Mournful attendants on
That serene sufferer, all his friends are gone
Unto the sable scaffold that's ordained,
By the decree of justice, to be stained
With guiltless blood; all sunk in grief — but she,
Who by inevitable destiny
Doomed him to death, most deep. Dull sorrow reigns
In her triumphant; sad and alone remains
She in a room, whose window's prospect led
Her eye to the scaffold, whither, from the bed
Where sorrow first had cast her, she did oft
Repair to see him; but her passion's soft
Temper, soon melting into tears, denies
Her soul a passage through o'erflowing eyes.
Often she would in vain expostulate
With those two subtle sophisters that sat
Clothed in the robes of fancy, but they still
O'erthrow her weaker arguments, and fill
Her breast with love and wonder; passion gave
Such fierce assaults, no virgin vow could save
Her heart's surrender — she must love, and lose
In one sad hour; thus grief doth oft infuse
Those bitter pills, where hidden poisons dwell,
In the smooth pleasures of sweet oximel.
Argalia's friends, that did this minute use.
As if the last of mortal interviews,
Had now reversed their eyes, expecting nought
But that stroke's fall, whose fatal speed had brought
Him to eternal rest; when by a loud
And busy tumult, as if death, grown proud,
Expected triumphs, to divert their sight,
They from the scaffold's lofty station might,
Within the reach of an exalted voice,
Behold a troop, who (as the leader's choice,
Confined to strait necessity, had there
Enrolled all comers, if of strength to bear
Offensive arms), did first appear to be
Some tumult drest in the variety
Of sudden rage: for here came headlong in
A herd of clowns, armed as they then had been
From labor called; near them, well ordered ride
(As greatness strove no longer to divide
Societies) some youths, brave as they had
Been in the spoils of conquered nations clad.
This sudden object, first obstructing all
Their court's proceedings, prompts their doubts to call
Their absent prince; who, being too wise for fear's
Uncertain fictions, with such speed appears
As checks the tumult; when, to tell them who
Had from their homes the frighted people drew,
I' the van of a well ordered troop rides forth
Loved Aminander, whose unquestioned worth,
That strong attractive of the people's love,
Expunged suspicion: whilst his troops did move
With a commanded slowness to inform
The expecting prince, from whence this sudden storm
Contracted clouds, he to his view presents
Andremon's friends; whose looks — the sad contents
Of sorrow, with a silent oratory
Beg pity, whilst he thus relates their story. —
" That we, great prince, we, whom a loyal fear
To strict obedience prompts, dare thus appear
Before your sacred person, were a sin
Mercy would blush to own, had we not been
Forced to offensive arms, by such a cause
As tore the sceptre's regulated laws
Forth of your royal hand, to vindicate
This suffering stranger, whom a subtle hate,
Not solemn law, pursued. I here have brought
Such witnesses as have their knowledge bought
At the expense of all their joy, whom I
Found so confined, as if their misery
Were in their houses sepulchred; a sad
And general sorrow in one dress had clad
So many, that their only sight did prove —
Lost virtue caused such universal love.
To free this noble youth, whose valour lent
A late protection to this innocent
But injured maid, they, unconstrained, had here
Implored your aid, had not too just a fear,
Caused from some troops, raised by a wronged pretence
Of your commands, checked their intelligence,
With such illegal violence that I
Had shared their sufferings, if not rescued by
These following friends, whose rude conjunction shows
It was no studied plot did first compose
So loose a body. But, lest it appear
In me like envy, should I strive to clear
This doubtful story, here are those, (with that
Calls forth Andremon's friends), instructed at
The dearest price, which, by discovering truth,
Will not alone rescue this noble youth
From falling ruin; but, least he retreat
Into rebellion, force before this seat
A man, whose power the people thought had been
To punish vice, not propagate a sin. "
Having thus far past toward discovery, here
The grave lord ceased; and, that truth might appear
From its first fair original, to her
Whose virtue, heaven's affected messenger,
Commands attention, the more horrid part
Of his relation leaves. And here, vain Art,
Look on and envy, to behold how far
Thy strict rules (which our youth's afflictions are)
Nature transcends, in a discourse which she,
With all the flowers of virgin modesty,
Not weeds of rhetoric, strewed; to hear her miss,
Or put a blush for a parenthesis,
In the relating that uncivil strife,
Which her sad subject was — so near the life
Limns lovely virtue, that, that copy whence
Art took those graces, she doth since dispense
T' the best of women. Fair Pharonnida,
Taught by that sympathy, which first did draw
Those lovely transcripts of herself, although
Varied as much as humble flowers, that grow
Dispersed in shady deserts, are from those
That nice art in enamelled gardens shows;
Yet, like bright planets which communicate
To earth their influence, from exalted state
She now descends to cherish virtue in
Those lovely nymphs, whose beauties, though they 'd been
Yet in the country clouded from report,
Soon grow the praise or envy of the court.
Emboldened by that gracious favor shown
To these fair nymphs, to prosecute their own
Most just complaints, Andremon's wretched friends,
With prayers perceive that mercy which descends,
O'er all their sufferings, on the expanded wings
Of noble pity; whose fair hand first brings
Argalia from the sable scaffold, to
Meet those rewards to his high merits due,
Not only in what death's dark progress stays,
But life's best joy — an universal praise
Acquired from just desert. Next she applies
Herself to those poor burthened souls, whose eyes
Look e'en on comforts through their tears, the dead
Andremon's mourners; whose lost joy, though fled
For ever from those wintry regions, yet
As much received as sorrow would permit
Souls so opprest; the splendid court they leave
With thankful prayers. And now, called to receive
His sin's reward, Almanzor is, whose shame,
Its black attendant, when b' his hated name
He 'd oft been summoned, prompts him to deny
That legal call; which being an act too high
For a depending power to patronise,
To shun feared justice' public doom, he flies
His prince's mandates, an affront that sent
Him to 's desert — perpetual banishment.
This comet lost in clouds of infamy,
The court, which had too long been burthened by
His injured power, with praises entertain
Impartial justice; whilst to call again
Those pleasures which had in this interval
Of law been lost, the prince, convening all
That shared those sufferings, as the centre whence
Joy spread itself t' the court's circumference,
Crowns all their wishes, which, by that bright star
In honor's sphere — the auspicious princess, are
Exalted to their highest orbs. Her love
Unto Argalia, though it yet must move
As an unnoted constellation, here
Begins its era, which, that 't might appear
Without suspicion, she disguises in
The public joy. Which, 'mongst those that had been
His serious mourners, to participate,
That kind Epirot, who first taught his fate
The way to glory, comes; to whom he now
Was on those knees merit had taught to bow,
With as much humble reverence as if all
The weights of nature made those burthens fall
A sacrifice to love, fixed to implore
Its constant progress, but he needs no more
For confirmation, since his friend could move
But the like joy, where nature taught to love.
Passion's encounter, which too high to last,
Into a calm of thankful prayers being past,
The prince from the Calabrian seeks to know
By what collateral streams he came to owe
Such love unto a stranger — one that stood
Removed from him i' the magnetism of blood;
Whom thus the lord resolves: — " When blooming in
The pride of youth, whose varied scenes did win
Time on the morning of my days, a while,
To taste the pleasures of a summer's smile,
I left the court's tumultuous noise, and spent
Some happy time, blest with retired content,
In the calm country, where Art's curious hand,
As centre to a spacious round of land,
Had placed a palace, in whose lovely dress,
The city might admire the wilderness;
Yet, though that ill civility was in
Her marble circle, Nature's hand had been
As liberal to the neighbouring fields, and deckt
Each rural nymph as gaudy, till neglect
Or slovenly necessity had drawn
Her canvass furrows o'er their vales of lawn.
" Near this fair seat, fringed with an antient wood,
A fertile valley lay, where scattered stood
Some homely cottages, the happy seats
Of laboring swains, whose careful toil completes
Their wishes — in obtaining so much wealth
To conquer dire necessity; firm health,
Calm thoughts, sound sleeps, unstarted innocence,
Softened their beds, and, when roused up from thence,
Suppled their limbs for labor. Amongst these,
My loved Argalia, (for till fate shall please
His dim stars to uncurtain, and salute
His better fortune with each attribute
Due to a nobler birth, his name must be
Contracted into that stenography)
Life's scenes began, amongst his fellows that
There first drew breath, being true heirs to what,
Whilst all his stars were retrograde and dim,
Unlucky fortune but adopted him.
" Whilst there residing, I had oft beheld
The active boy, whose childhood's bud excelled
More full blown youths, gleaning the scattered locks
Of new shorn fields, amongst the half-clad flocks
Of their unripe but healthful issue; by
Which labor tired, sometimes I see them try
The strength of their scarce twisted limbs, and run
A short breathed course; whose swift contention done,
And he (as in each other active sport)
With victory crowned, they make their next resort
T' the spring's cheap bounties; but what did of all
His first attempts, give the most powerful call
Both to my love and wonder was, what chanced
From one rare act: — The morning had advanced
Her tempting beauties to assure success
To these young huntsmen, who with labor less
Made by the pleasure of their journey had
The forest reached, where, with their limbs unclad
For the pursuit, they follow beasts that might
Abroad be recreation, and, when night
Summoned them home, the welcomest supply
Both to their own and parents' quality.
An angry boar, chafed with a morning's chase,
And now near spent, was come so near the place,
Where, though secured, on the stupendous height
Of a vast rock they stood, that now no flight
Could promise safety; that wild rage, which sent
Him from the dogs, his following foes, is spent
In the pursuit of them; which, to my grief,
Had suffered ere we could have lent relief,
Had not Argalia, e'en when danger drew
So near as death, turned on the beast, and threw
His happy javelin; whose well guided aim,
Although success it knew not how to claim
From strength, yet is so much assisted by
Fortune, that, what before had scorned to die
By all our power when contending in
Nice art, the honor of that day to win
To him alone, falls by that feeble stroke
From all his speed; which seen, he, to provoke
His hastier death, seconds those wounds which in
Their safety are by those with terror seen,
That had escaped the danger, and e'en by
Us that pursued with such amaze, that I,
Who had before observed those rays of worth
Obscured in clouds, here let my love break forth
In useful action, such as from that low
Condition brought him where I might bestow
On him what art required, to perfect that
Rare piece of nature which we wondered at.
From those whom I, 'mongst others, thought to be
Such whose affection the proximity
Of nature claimed, with a regret that showed
Their poverty unwillingly bestowed
So loved a jewel, had procured the youth:
His foster father, loath to wave a truth
That in the progress of his fate might be
Of high account, discovers unto me
The world's mistake concerning him, and thus
Relates his story: — " He was brought to us,
(Quoth the good man) some ten years since, by two
Who (could men be discovered to the view
Of knowledge by their habits) seemed but such
As fortune's narrow hand had gave not much
More than necessity requires to be
Enjoyed of every man, whom life makes free
Of nature's city; though their bounty showed
To our dim judgments, that they only owed
Mischance for those coarse habits, which disguised
What once the world at higher rates had prized.
I' the worst extreme of time, about the birth
O' the sluggish morning, when the crusted earth
Was tinselled o'er with frost, and each sprig clad
With winter's wool, I, whom cross Fortune had
Destined to early labors, being abroad,
Met two benighted men, far from the road,
Wandering alone; no skilful guide their way
Directing in that infancy of day,
But the faint beams of glimmering candles, that
Shone from our lowly cottage windows, at
Which marks they steered their course: one of them bore
This boy, an infant then, which knew no more
Than nature's untrod paths. These, having spied
Me through the morning's mists, glad of a guide,
Though to a place whose spuerficial view
Lent small hopes of relief, went weith me to
Mine own poor home; where, with such coarse cheap fare
As must content us that but eat to bear
The burthens of a life, refreshed, they take
A short repose; then, being to forsake
Their new found host, desire with us to leave
The child, till time should some few days bereave
Of the habiliments of light. We stood
Not long to parl, but, willing to do good
To strangers so distressed, were never by
Our poverty once tempted to deny.
My wife, being then a nurse, upon her takes
The pretty charge, and with our own son makes
Him fellow-commoner at the full breast,
And partner of the cradle's quite rest.
Now to depart, one that did seem sto have
The nearest relation to the infant gave
Him first this jewel, (at which word they showed
One which upon Argalia was bestowed
By those that left him), then, that we might be
Not straitened by our former poverty,
Leaves us some gold, by which we since have been
Enabled to maintain him, though not in
That equipage, which we presume unto
His birth (although to us unknown) is due.
This done, with eyes that lost their light in tears,
They take their leaves; since when, those days to years
Are grown, in which we did again expect
They should return; but whether 't be neglect
Or else impossibility detain
Them from his sight, our care hath sought in vain.
" Having thus plainly heard as much as Fate
Had yet of him discovered, I, that late
Desired him for his own, now for the sake
Of 's friends, (whate'er they were), resolved to take
Him from that barren rudeness, and transplant
So choice a slip where he might know no want
Of education; with some labor, I
Having obtained him, till virility
Rendered him fit for nobler action, stayed
Him always with me, when my love obeyed
His reason; and then, in the quest of what
Confined domestics do but stumble at —
Exotic knowledge, with this noble youth,
To whom his love grew linked, like spotless truth
To perfect virtue, sent him to pursue
His wished design, from whence this interview
First took its fatal rise: " — And here the lord,
That a more full discovery might afford
Them yet more wonder, shows the jewel to
Sparta's pleased prince; at whose most serious view
The skilfullest lapidaries, judging it,
Both for its worth and beauty, only fit
To sparkle in the glorious cabinet
Of some great queen, such value on it set,
That all conclude the owner of 't must be,
Some falling star, i' the night of royalty,
From honor's sphere, the glories of a crown
To vaunt, the centre of our fears, dropt down.
And now the court, whose brightest splendor in
These fatal changes long eclipsed had been,
Resumes its lustre; which to elevate,
With all the pleasures of a prosperous state,
For that contracted span of time designed
For th' prince's stay, fancies are racked to find
New forms of mirth, such — whose invention might
Inform the ear, whilst they the eye delight.
All which, whilst to the less concerned they lent
A flux of joy, yet lost their first intent
To please the princess; who from mirth did move
Eccentrical, since first inflamed with love,
Which did soon from her fancy's embryon grow
A large limbed tyrant; when, prepared to go,
She sees Argalia, who, engaged to attend
The ambassadors, here soon had put an end
To what, e'en from those unto love unkind,
Must now force tears ere it a period find.
That time expired — ordained to terminate
Her father's stay, and so that splendid state
That yet adorned the princess court, to show
How much he did for 's frontiers' safety owe
Unto those moving citadels — a fleet,
His mandates call each squadron for to meet
Within Lepanto, in whose harbours lay
Those ships that were ordained for a convey
To the Calabrian's messengers; who now,
With all that love or honor could allow
To noble strangers, being attended by
The brightest glories of two courts, draw nigh
A royal fleet, whose glittering streamers lent
Dull waves the beauties of a firmament:
Amongst which numbers, one, too stately far
For rough encounters of defacing war,
Whose gilded masts their crimson sails had spread
In silken flakes, advanced her stately head,
High as where clouds condense, where a light stands,
Took for a comet by far distant lands;
For cabins — where the imprisoned passenger
Wants air to breathe, she 's stored with rooms that were
So fair without, and yet so large within,
A Persian sophi might have revelled in
Their spacious hulks. To this, Molarchus, he
Whom greatness, joined to known ability,
Had made Sicilia's admiral, invites
The royal train; where, with whate'er delights
(Although invention all her stock had spent)
Could be upon that liquid element
Prepared — their welcome; whilst, at every bowl
A health inters, the full-mouthed cannons troul
A peal of thunder, which in white waves drowned,
The softer trumpets do their dirges sound.
Now in the full career of mirth, whilst all
Their thoughts in perpendiculars did fall
From honor's zenith, none incurvated
With common cares — parents that might have bred
A sly suspicion; whilst neglective mirth
Keeps all within, from their deep bed of earth
Molarchus hoists his anchors, whilst that all
The rest lay still, expecting when his call
Commands their service: but when they beheld
His spread sails with a nimble gale were swelled;
An oppressed slave, which lay at rest before,
Was, with stretched limbs, tugging his finny ore;
Conceiving it but done to show the prince
That gally's swiftness, let that thought convince
Fear's weak suggestions, and, invited by
Their tempting mirth, still safe at anchor lie.
But now, when they not only saw the night
Draw sadly on, but what did more affright
Their loyal souls — the distant vessel, by
Doubling a cape, lost to the sharpest eye,
For hateful treason taxing their mistake,
With anchors cut and sails spread wide they make
The lashed waves roar. Whilst those enclosed within
The galley, by her unknown speed had been
Far more deceived — being so far conveyed,
Ere care arrives to tell them they 're betrayed
Through mirth's neglective guards. Who now, in haste
With anger raised, in vain those flames did waste
In wild attempts to force a passage to
The open decks, whither, before withdrew
Molarchus was; who now prepared to give
That treason birth, whose hated name must live
In bloody lines of infamy. Before
They could expect it, opening wide the door
That led them forth, the noble captives fly
To seek revenge; but, being encountered by
An armed crew, so fierce a fight begin,
That night's black mantle ne'er was lined within
With aught more horrid; in which bloody fray,
The subtle traitor, valiant to betray —
Though abject else, unnoted, seizing on
The unguarded princess, from their rage is gone,
Through night's black mask, with that rich prize into
A boat, that, placed for that design, was drew
Near to the galley; whose best wealth being now
Thus made their own, no more they study how
So save the rest — all which for death designed.
The conquered rebels soon their safety find
From other boats, but first, that all but she
O' the royal train secured by death might be,
So large a leak in the brave vessel make,
That thence her womb soon too much weight did take
For her vast hulk to wield, which, sinking now,
No safety to her royal guests allow.
The ship thus lost, and now no throne but waves
Left the Sicilian prince, just Heaven thus saves
His sacred person: — Amongst those that fought
For timely safety, nimble strength had brought
Argalia and his following friend so near
One of the boats, in which, secured from fear,
The rebels sailed, that now they both had took
A hold so sure, that, though their foes forsook
Their oars to hinder 't, spite of all their force,
Argalia enters; which, a sad divorce
From life, as he by strength attempts to rise
From falling wounds, unhappily denies
The valiant Aphron; who, by death betrayed
From time and strength, had now left none to aid
His friend, but those attending virtues, that,
Ne'er more than now, for th' world to wonder at,
Brave trophies built. With such a sudden rage,
As all his foes did to defence engage,
Those bolder souls that durst resist, he had
From their disordered robes of flesh unclad;
Which horrid sight forced the more fearful to
Such swift submission, that, ere fear outgrew
His hope, assisted by that strength which bought
Their lives' reprieve, their oars reversed had brought
Him back t' the place, in which the guilty flood
Was stained with fair Sicilia's noblest blood.
Assisted by those silver streams of light
The full-faced moon shot through the swarthy night
On the smooth sea, he first his course directs
Toward one, whose robe, studded with gems, reflects
Those feeble rays, like new fallen stars; he there
Finds Sparta's prince, then sinking from the sphere
Of mortal greatness in the boundless deep,
To calm life's cares in an eternal sleep.
From unexpected death, the grave's most grim
And ghastly tyrant, having rescued him;
With as much speed, as grief's distractions, joined
To night's confusion, could give leave, to find
More friends, before that all were swallowed by
The sea, he hastes; when, being by chance brought nigh
Dead Aphron's father, to be partner in
Their cares, who, as they only saved had been
To mourn the rest, he from the rude sea saves
Him, to be drowned in sorrow's sable waves.
Now in the quest of that deserving lord,
Whose goodness did to's infancy afford
Life's best of comforts — education, he,
To balk that needless diligence, might see
At one large draught the wide waves swallow all
Who vainly did till that sad minute call
To Heaven for help; which dismal sight, beheld
By those that saved by accident, expelled
Their own just fears — for them to entertain
As just a grief. Their needful time in vain
They spend no longer in their search, but, though
Unwieldy grief yet made their motion slow,
Haste from that horrid place, where each must leave
Such valued friends. Numbers that did receive
Their blood, descended to nobility,
From th' royal spring, here the grieved prince might see
Interred in the ocean; the Epirot lord,
His late found son, whom love could scarce afford
A minute's absence; nor's Argalia less
Engaged to grief — to leave whom the distress
Of's youth relieved; but what from each of these
Borrowed some streams of sorrow, to appease
A grief which since so many floods hath cost —
The noble Aminander here was lost.
Rowed with such speed as their desire, joined to
That fear which from the conquered rebels drew
A swift obedience, being conducted by
A friendly light, their boat is now drawn nigh
A rocky island; in whose harbour they
Found where the boat that had outsailed them lay,
Drawn near the shore: but all the passengers
Being gone, the sight of that alone confers
No other comfort than to inform them that
The ravished princess had been landed at
That port; which by their sailors they are told
Belongs unto a castle, kept to hold
That island, though but one unnoted town,
T' the scarce known laws of the Sicilian crown.
This heard b' the prince, who formerly had known
That castle's strength, being vexed (although his own)
That now 'twas such; leaving the vessel, they,
Protected by night's heaviest shades, convey
Themselves into a neighbouring cottage, where
The prince, who now externally did bear
No forms of greatness, left to his repose.
Argalia, whilst night's shadows yet did close
Discovering eyes, hastes back t' the harbour; whence,
To give the royal fleet intelligence
O' the king's distress, he sends forth all but one,
Whose stoutness had best made his valour known,
Of those which, conquered by his sword, are now
By bounty made too much his own, to allow
E'en slight suspicion room. This being done,
That valour, though with love 'twere winged, might run
On no rash precipice, assisted by
That skilful seaman, from some ships that lie
Neglected, 'cause by time decayed, he takes
So much o' the tackling, as of that he makes
Ladders of length sufficient to ascend
The castle walls; which, having to defend
Them nought but slave security, is done
With so much ease, that what's so well begun
They boldly second, and first entering in
A tower, (which had b' the prudent founder been
Built to command the haven's mouth, which lay
Too low for th' castle), where, when come, all they
Found to resist — is one poor sentry, bound
In sleep, which soon by death is made more sound.
To lodge the prince in that safe place, before
His active valour yet attempted more,
The gates secured that led t' the castle. He,
Protected by that night's obscurity,
By a concealed small sally-port is to
Its strength soon brought; when now prepared to view
More dreadful dangers, in such habit clad,
As by the out-guard's easy error had,
Soon as a soldier, gave him entrance, come
T' the hall he is: there being informed by some
O' the drowsy guards, where his pretended speed
Might find Molarchus, to perform a deed,
That future ages, (if that honor's fire
Lose not its light), shall worthily admire,
His valour hastes: — Within a room, — whose pride
Of art, though great, was far more glorified
By that bright lustre the spectators saw,
Through sorrow's clouds, in fair Pharonnida, —
He finds the impious villain, heightened in
His late success to such rude acts of sin,
That servile baseness, the low distance whence
He used to look, grew saucy impudence.
Inflamed Argalia, who at once beholds
Objects to which the soul enlarged unfolds
Its passions in the various characters
Of love and anger, now no more defers
The execution of his rage, but in
So swift a death, as if his hand had been
Guided by lightning, to Molarchus sent
His life's discharge; which, with astonishment,
Great as if by their evil angels all
Their sins had been displayed, did wildly fall
Upon his followers; whom, ere haste could save,
Or strength resist, Argalia's sword had gave
Such sudden deaths, that, whilst amazement reigned
O'er all, he from the heedless tumult gained
That glorious prize — the royal lady; who,
In all assaults of fears, not lost unto
Her own clear judgment, as a blessing sent
From Heaven, (whilst her base foes confusion lent
That action safety), follows that brave friend,
Whose sword redeemed her, till her journey's end,
Through threatening dangers, brought her to that place
Where, with such passion as kind wives embrace
Husbands returned from bondage, she is by
Her father welcomed into liberty.
Thus rescued, whilst exalted rumors swelled
To such confusion as from sense expelled
Reason's safe conduct, whilst each soldier leaves
His former charge, fear's pale disease receives
This paroxysm: — The fleet, which yet had in
A doubtful quest of their surprised prince been,
Directed hither with the new-born day,
Their streamers round the citadel display;
Which seen by them that, being deluded by
The dead Molarchus, to his treachery
Had joined their strength, guilt, the original
Of shame, did to defend the platform call
Their bold endeavour; but, when finding it
Too strongly manned for undermining wit
Or open strength to force, despairing to
Be long secure, prompted by fear, they threw
Themselves on mercy; which calm grace, among
Heaven's other blessings, whilst it leads along
The prince toward victory, made his conquest seem —
Such as came not to punish, but redeem.