GALD

The Roman Eagle hangs her haggard wings, And all the Army's fled; all by the strength And opposition of one common man, In show, not far superior to a Soldier, That's hired with pay, or pressed unto the field: But in his manly carriage, Like the son Of some unconquered valiant Mermedon. Sure, 'tis some godlike spirit, that obscures His splendour in these base and borrowed clouds Of common Soldiers habit. All my thoughts Are wrapped in admiration, and I am deep in love With those perfections, only that my eye Beheld in that fair object. Thus have I left the field, To interchange a word or two with him. And see, in happy time he walks alone. Well met, brave soldier: may a Prince be bold To ask thy name, thy nation and thy birth? Fair Map of honour, where my reason reads Each navigable circle, that contains My happy voyage to the land of fame: Say, virtuous Prince, may Galled become so blessed To follow thy fair Hope's, and link his soul In and united league of endless love: Nor scorn a Princes proffer: for by heaven, What I intrude, thy virtue hath enforced, And Like the powerful Loadstone, drawn my thoughts To limne out virtue: for exactly done, By artificial nature, to the life, In thy fair model shadowed curiously, How Like Pygmalion, do my passion dote On this fair picture! will you accept me Prince? What, Royal Prince, can chance predominate Over a mind, that, Like the soul, retains A harmony of such concordant tunes? No sudden accident should make to jar. This tenement of clay, in which our soul Dwells in, until the Lease of life endures, Of learned men was well called, Microcosm, Or, little world: over whose mortal parts The stars do govern, whose immortal power Sometime begets a fatal birth of woe; Sometime again inverts their sullen course To unexpected Revels, turns our Critic hours To Cricket merriment; yet is there means that bars Their hateful influence. Wisdom rules the stars. You have lost a Father: Use the Athenians breath, Grave Solons; No men happy until death. Right noble Prince, when Galled in lieu of this So Kingly and so rare a benefit, (In whom the mirror of bright Excellence So clear, and so transparently appears) Forgets to honour thee or her in love, May he live branded with some heavy curse, Worse then oppression of the widows right: Or when I shall forget to offer up A sacrifice of my immaculate love, Unto thy beauteous altar, let me have A base deformed object to my graven. Dear Bluso, thus far have my weary steps, Through passages, as craggy as the Alps, Silent and unknown ways, as intricate, As are the windings of a Labyrinth, Searched out the uncouth Cell of thy abided. The Roman host have seized my beauteous wife, And with the rude and ruggy hand of force, As Paris kept bright Hellen from the Greeks, Denying ransom, more Like Canibals Then honourable Romans, keep her still. And never more shall Galled enjoy the sighed Of his souls flourishing object, till thy skill, Exceeding humane possibilities, Work her enlargement, and my happiness. Thanks, learned Bluso, this thy courtesy Hath bound Prince Galled, in endless bonds of love, To thee, and to thy art. Now stretch thy spells, And make the winds obey thy fearful Charms. Strike all the Romans with amazing terror At our approaches: let them know, That hell's broke lose, and Furies rage below. Now, Bluso, thus far have we by thy Art, Even to their private lodgings, fearless passed Invisible to any mortal eye. But, Bluso, tell me, are we yet arrived At our expected Haven? I can no longer hear these arguments. Come, Bluso, help me to convey her hence. All that I have, I freely do ascribe Unto this learned man, whose secret Art, Beyond the strain of deep Philosophy, Or any natural science under heaven, Possessed me of this Jewel of my soul, And through the Roman host invisible, Conuayde us both safe, as you see we are. Then so we will, base Romans. Henceforth, in stead of honourable names, Succeeding times shall brand your slavish thoughts, With the black coals of treasons and defame. Princes, since now you know the worst of all, Let vengeance teach your valiant minds to mount Above a common pitch, inspire your souls With the remorseless thoughts of blood and death; And this day spit defiance in the face Of treacherous Room, and think on this disgrace. Some Cannon shot ram up thy damned throat. Peace, hellhound, for thou singest a Ravens note. Alarm. Well met, thou Fiend of hell: by heaven I'll die, Or be revenged for all thy treachery. Villain, the heavens have strength enough against Treason. Found a Retreat. This day was bravely fought. Cornwall and Codigune, whose infectious breath Engendered noisome plagues of blood and death, With all the Roman host is put to flight. Thus by the hand of heaven, our peace is won, And all our foes sunk to confusion.