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The Chace/Book 2

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The Chace
by William Somervile
The Chace. Book II.
4413522The Chace — The Chace. Book II.William Somervile

The Argument of the Second Book.

Of the Power of Instinct in Brutes. Two remarkable Instances in the Hunting of the Roebuck, and in the Hare going to Seat in the Morning. Of the Variety of Seats or Forms of the Hare, according to the Change of the Season, Weather or Wind. Description of the Hare-hunting in all its Parts, interspers'd with Rules to be observ'd by those who follow that Chace. Transition to the Asiatick Way of Hunting, particularly the magnificent Manner of the Great Mogul, and other Tartarian Princes, taken from Monsieur Bernier, and the History of Gengiskan the Great. Concludes with a Short Reproof of Tyrants and Oppressors of Mankind.



BOOK the Second.

Nor will it less delight th' attentive Sage
T'observe that Instinct, which unerring guides
The brutal Race, which mimicks Reason's Lore
And oft transcends: Heav'n-taught the Roe-buck swift
Loiters at Ease before the driving Pack, 5
And mocks their vain Pursuit, nor far he flies
But checks his Ardour, 'till the steaming Scent
That freshens on the Blade, provokes their Rage.
Urg'd to their Speed, his weak deluded Foes
Soon flag fatigued; strain'd to Excess each Nerve, 10
Each slacken'd Sinew fails; they pant, they foam;
Then o'er the Lawn he bounds, o'er the high Hills
Stretches secure, and leaves the scatter'd Crowd
To puzzle in the distant Vale below.

'Tis Instinct that directs the jealous Hare 15
To chuse her soft Abode: With Step revers'd
She forms the doubling Maze; then, e'er the Morn
Peeps thro' the Clouds, leaps to her close Recess.

As wand'ring Shepherds on th' Arabian Plains
No settled Residence observe, but shift 20
Their moving Camp, now, on some cooler Hill
With Cedars crown'd, court the refreshing Breeze;
And then, below, where trickling Streams distill
From some penurious Source, their Thirst allay,
And feed their fainting Flocks: So the wise Hares 25
Oft quit their Seats, lest some more curious Eye
Shou'd mark their Haunts, and by dark treach'rous Wiles
Plot their Destruction; or perchance in hopes
Of plenteous Forage, near the ranker Mead;
Or matted Blade, wary, and close they fit. 30
When Spring shines forth, Season of Love and Joy,
In the moist Marsh, 'mong Beds of Rushes hid,
They cool their boiling Blood: When Summer Suns
Bake the cleft Earth, to thick wide-waving Fields
Of Corn full-grown, they lead their helpless young:
But when autumnal Torrents, and fierce Rains
Deluge the Vale, in the dry crumbling Bank
Their Forms they delve, and cautiously avoid
The dripping Covert: Yet when Winter's Cold
Their Limbs benumbs, thither with Speed return'd
In the long Grass they skulk, or shrinking creep
Among the wither'd Leaves, thus changing still,
As Fancy prompts them, or as Food invites.
But ev'ry Season carefully observ'd,
Th' inconstant Winds, the fickle Element, 45
The wise experienc'd Huntsman soon may find
His subtle, various Game, nor waste in vain
His tedious Hours, 'till his impatient Hounds
With Disappointment vex'd, each springing Lark
Babling pursue, far scatter'd o'er the Fields. 50

Now golden Autumn from her open Lap
Her fragrant Bounties show'rs; the Fields are shorn;
Inwardly smiling, the proud Farmer views
The rising Pyramids that grace his Yard,
And counts his large Increase; his Barns are stor'd, 55
And groaning Staddles bend beneath their Load.
All now is free as Air, and the gay Pack
In the rough bristly Stubbles range unblam'd;
No Widow's Tears o'erflow, no secret Curse
Swells in the Farmer's Breast, which his pale Lips 60
Trembling conceal, by his fierce Landlord aw'd:
But courteous now he levels ev'ry Fence,
Joins in the common Cry, and hollows loud,
Charm'd with the rattling Thunder of the Field.
Oh bear me, some kind Pow'r invisible! 65
To that extended Lawn, where the gay Court
View the swift Racers, stretching to the Goal;
Games more renown'd, and a far nobler Train,
Than proud Elean Fields could boast of old.
Oh! were a Theban Lyre not wanting here, 70
And Pindar's Voice, to do their Merit right!
Or to those spacious Plains, where the strain'd Eye
In the wide Prospect lost, beholds at last
Sarum's proud Spire, that o'er the Hills ascends,
And pierces thro' the Clouds. Or to thy Downs, 75
Fair Cotswold, where the well-breath'd Beagle climbs,
With matchless Speed, thy green aspiring Brow,
And leaves the lagging Multitude behind.

Hail, gentle Dawn! Mild blushing Goddess, hail!
Rejoic'd I see thy purple Mantle spread 80
O'er half the Skies, Gems pave thy radiant Way,
And orient Pearls from ev'ry Shrub depend.
Farewel, Cleora; here deep sunk in Down
Slumber secure, with happy Dreams amus'd,
'Till grateful Steams shall tempt thee to receive 85
Thy early Meal, or thy officious Maids,
The Toilet plac'd, shall urge thee to perform
Th'important Work. Me other Joys invite,
The Horn sonorous calls, the Pack awak'd
Their Mattins chant, nor brook my long Delay. 90
My Courser hears their Voice; see there with Ears
And Tail erect, neighing he paws the Ground;
Fierce Rapture kindles in his red'ning Eyes,
And boils in ev'ry Vein. As captive Boys
Cow'd by the ruling Rod, and haughty Frowns 95
Of Pedagogues severe, from their hard Tasks
If once dismiss'd, no Limits can contain
The Tumult rais'd, within their little Breasts,
But give a Loose to all their frolick Play:
So from their Kennel rush the joyous Pack; 100
A thousand wanton Gayeties express
Their inward Extasy, their pleasing Sport
Once more indulg'd, and Liberty restor'd.
The rising Sun that o'er th' Horizon peeps,
As many Colours from their glossy Skins 105
Beaming reflects, as paint the various Bow
When April Show'rs descend. Delightful Scene!
Where all around is gay, Men, Horses, Dogs,
And in each smiling Countenance appears
Fresh-blooming Health, and universal Joy. 110

Huntsman, lead on! behind the clust'ring Pack
Submiss attend, hear with respect thy Whip
Loud-clanging, and thy harsher Voice obey:
Spare not the straggling Cur, that wildly roves;
But let thy brisk Assistant on his Back 115
Imprint thy just Resentments; let each Lash
Bite to the Quick, 'till howling he return
And whining creep amid the trembling Crowd.

Here on this verdant Spot, where Nature kind,
With double Blessings crowns the Farmer's Hopes;
Where Flow'rs autumnal Spring, and the rank Mead
Affords the wand'ring Hares a rich Repast;
Throw off thy ready Pack. See, where they spread
And range around, and dash the glitt'ring Dew.
If some stanch Hound, with his authentick Voice,
Avow the recent Trail, the justling Tribe
Attend his Call, then with one mutual Cry,
The welcome News confirm, and echoing Hills
Repeat the pleasing Tale. See how they thread
The Brakes, and up yon Furrow drive along! 130
But quick they back recoil, and wisely check
Their eager Haste; then o'er the fallow'd Ground
How leisurely they work, and many a Pause
Th' harmonious Consort breaks; 'till more assur'd
With Joy redoubled the low Vallies ring. 135
What artful Labyrinths perplex their Way!
Ah! there she lies; how close! she pants, she doubts
If now the lives; she trembles as she fits,
With Horror seiz'd. The wither'd Grass that clings
Around her Head, of the same russet Hue 140
Almost deceiv'd my Sight, had not her Eyes
With Life full-beaming her vain Wiles betray'd.
At Distance draw thy Pack, let all be hush'd,
No Clamour loud, no frantick Joy be heard,
Lest the wild Hound run gadding o'er the Plain 145
Untractable, nor hear thy chiding Voice.
Now gently put her off; see how direct
To her known Muse she flies! Here, Huntsman, bring
(But without hurry) all thy jolly Hounds,
And calmly lay them in. How low they stoop, 150
And seem to plough the Ground! then all at once
With greedy Nostrils snuff the fuming Steam
That glads their flutt'ring Hearts. As Winds let loose
From the dark Caverns of the blust'ring God,
They burst away, and sweep the dewy Lawn. 155
Hope gives them Wings, while she's spur'd on by Fear.
The Welkin rings, Men, Dogs, Hills, Rocks, and Woods
In the full Consort join. Now, my brave Youths,
Stripp'd for the Chace, give all your Souls to Joy!
See how their Coursers, than the Mountain Roe 160
More fleet, the verdant Carpet skim, thick Clouds
Snorting they breath, their shining Hoofs scarce print
The Grass unbruis'd; with Emulation fir'd
They strain to lead the Field, top the barr'd Gate,
O'er the deep Ditch exulting bound, and brush 165
The thorny-twining Hedge: The Riders bend
O'er their arch'd Necks; with steady Hands, by turns
Indulge their Speed, or moderate their Rage.
Where are their Sorrows, Disappointments, Wrongs,
Vexations, Sickness, Cares? All, all are gone, 170
And with the panting Winds lag far behind.

Huntsman! her Gate observe, if in wide Rings
She wheel her mazy Way, in the same Round
Persisting still, she'll foil the beaten Track.
But if she fly, and with the fav'ring Wind 175
Urge her bold Course; less intricate thy Task:
Push on thy Pack. Like some poor exil'd Wretch
The frighted Chace leaves her late dear Abodes,
O'er Plains remote she stretches far away,
Ah! never to return! For greedy Death 180
Hov'ring exults, secure to seize his Prey.

Hark! from yon Covert, where those tow'ring Oaks
Above the humble Copse aspiring rise,
What glorious Triumphs burst in ev'ry Gale
Upon our ravish'd Ears! The Hunters shout, 185
The clanging Horns swell their sweet-winding Notes,
The Pack wide-op'ning load the trembling Air
With various Melody; from Tree to Tree
The propagated Cry, redoubling bounds,
And winged Zephyrs waft the floating Joy 190
Thro' all the Regions near: Afflictive Birch
No more the School-boy dreads, his Prison broke,
Scamp'ring he flies, nor heeds his Master's Call;
The weary Traveller forgets his Road,
And climbs th' adjacent Hill; the Ploughman leaves
Th' unfinish'd Furrow; nor his bleating Flocks
Are now the Shepherd's Joy; Men, Boys, and Girls
Desert th'unpeopled Village; and wild Crowds
Spread o'er the Plain, by the sweet Frenzy seiz'd.
Look, how the pants! and o'er yon op'ning Glade
Slips glancing by; while, at the further End,
The puzzling Pack unravel Wile by Wile
Maze within Maze. The Covert's utmost Bound
Slyly the skirts; behind them cautious creeps,
And in that very Track, so lately stain'd 205
By all the steaming Crowd, seems to pursue
The Foe she flies. Let Cavillers deny
That Brutes have Reason; sure 'tis something more,
'Tis Heav'n directs, and Stratagems inspires,
Beyond the short Extent of human Thought. 210
But hold ——— I see her from the Covert break;
Sad on yon little Eminence she sits;
Intent she listens with one Ear erect,
Pond'ring, and doubtful what new Course to take,
And how t'escape the fierce blood-thirsty Crew, 215
That still urge on, and still in Vollies loud,
Insult her Woes, and mock her sore Distress.
As now in louder Peals, the loaded Winds
Bring on the gath'ring Storm, her Fears prevail;
And o'er the Plain, and o'er the Mountain's Ridge,
Away she flies; nor Ships with Wind and Tide,
And all their Canvass Wings skud half so fast.
Once more, ye jovial Train, your Courage try,
And each clean Courser's Speed. We scour along,
In pleasing Hurry and Confusion tost;
Oblivion to be wish'd. The patient Pack
Hang on the Scent unweary'd, up they climb,
And ardent we pursue; our lab'ring Steeds
We press, we gore; till once the Summit gain'd,
Painfully panting, there we breath awhile; 230
Then like a foaming Torrent, pouring down
Precipitant, we smoke along the Vale.
Happy the Man, who with unrival'd Speed
Can pass his Fellows, and with Pleasure view
The struggling Pack; how in the rapid Course 235
Alternate they preside, and justling push
To guide the dubious Scent; how giddy Youth
Oft babbling errs, by wiser Age reprov'd;
How niggard of his Strength, the wise old Hound
Hangs in the Rear, 'till some important Point 240
Rouse all his Diligence, or 'till the Chace
Sinking he finds; then to the Head he springs
With Thirst of Glory fir'd, and wins the Prize.
Huntsman, take heed; they stop in full career.
Yon crowding Flocks, that at a Distance gaze, 245
Have haply foil'd the Turf. See! that old Hound,
How busily he works, but dares not trust
His doubtful Sense; draw yet a wider Ring.
Hark! now again the Chorus fills. As Bells
Sally'd a while at once their Peal renew, 250
And high in Air the tuneful Thunder rolls.
See, how they toss, with animated Rage
Recov'ring all they lost! ——— That eager Haste
Some doubling Wile foreshews. ——— Ah! yet once more
They're check'd, ——— hold back with Speed ——— on either Hand 255
They flourish round ——— ev'n yet persist ——— 'Tis right,
Away they spring; the rustling Stubbles bend
Beneath the driving Storm. Now the poor Chace
Begins to flag, to her last Shifts reduc'd.
From Brake to Brake she flies, and visits all 260
Her well-known Haunts, where once she rang'd secure,
With Love and Plenty blest. See! there she goes,
She reels along, and by her Gate betrays
Her inward Weakness. See, how black she looks!
The Sweat that clogs th' obstructed Pores, scarce leaves 265
A languid Scent. And now in open View
See, see, she flies! each eager Hound exerts
His utmost Speed, and stretches ev'ry Nerve.
How quick she turns! their gaping Jaws eludes,
And yet a Moment lives; 'till round inclos'd 270
By all the greedy Pack, with infant Screams
She yields her Breath, and there reluctant dies.
So when the furious Bacchanals assail'd
Threician Orpheus, poor ill-fated Bard!
Loud was the Cry, Hills, Woods, and Hebrus' Banks, 275
Return'd their clam'rous Rage; distress'd he flies,
Shifting from Place to Place, but flies in vain;
For eager they pursue, 'till panting, faint,
By noisy Multitudes o'erpower'd, he sinks,
To the relentless Crowd a bleeding Prey. 280

The Huntsman now, a deep Incision made,
Shakes out with Hands impure, and dashes down
Her reeking Entrails, and yet quiv'ring Heart.
These claim the Pack, the bloody Perquisite
For all their Toils. Strech'd on the Ground she lies, 285
A mangled Coarse; in her dim glaring Eyes
Cold Death exults, and stiffens ev'ry Limb.
Aw'd by the threat'ning Whip, the furious Hounds
Around her Bay; or at their Master's Foot,
Each happy Fav'rite courts his kind Applause, 290
With humble Adulation cow'ring low.
All now is Joy. With Cheeks full-blown they wind
Her solemn Dirge, while the loud-op'ning Pack
The Concert swell, and Hills and Dales return
The sadly-pleasing Sounds. Thus the poor Hare, 295
A puny, dastard Animal, but vers'd
In subtle Wiles, diverts the youthful Train.
But if thy proud, aspiring Soul disdains
So mean a Prey, delighted with the Pomp,
Magnificence and Grandeur of the Chace; 300
Hear what the Muse from faithful Records sings.

Why on the Banks of Gemna, Indian Stream,
Line within Line, rise the Pavilions proud,
Their silken Streamers waving in the Wind?
Why neighs the warrior Horse? From Tent to Tent, 305
Why press in Crowds the buzzing Multitude?
Why shines the polish'd Helm, and pointed Lance,
This Way and that far-beaming o'er the Plain?
Nor Visapour nor Golconda rebel;
Nor the great Sophy, with his num'rous Host 310
Lays waste the Provinces; nor Glory fires
To rob, and to destroy, beneath the Name
And specious Guise of War. A nobler Cause
Calls Aurengzebe to Arms. No Cities sack'd,
No Mother's Tears, no helpless Orphan's Cries, 315
No violated Leagues, with sharp Remorse
Shall sting the conscious Victor: But Mankind
Shall hail him good and just. For 'tis on Beasts
He draws his vengeful Sword; on Beasts of Prey
Full-fed with humane Gore. See, see, he comes! 320
Imperial Dehli op'ning wide her Gates,
Pours out her thronging Legions, bright in Arms,
And all the Pomp of War. Before them sound
Clarions and Trumpets, breathing martial Airs,
And bold Defiance. High upon his Throne, 325
Born on the Back of his proud Elephant,
Sits the great Chief of Tamur's glorious Race:
Sublime he sits, amid the radiant Blaze
Of Gems and Gold. Omrahs about him crowd,
And rein th' Arabian Steed, and watch his Nod: 330
And potent Rajahs, who themselves preside
O'er Realms of wide Extent; but here submiss
Their Homage pay, alternate Kings and Slaves.
Next these with prying Eunuchs girt around,
The fair Sultanas of his Court; a Troop 335
Of chosen Beauties, but with Care conceal'd
From each intrusive Eye; one Look is Death.
Ah cruel Eastern Law! (had Kings a Pow'r
But equal to their wild tyrannick Will)
To rob us of the Sun's all-chearing Ray, 340
Were less severe. The Vulgar close the March,
Slaves and Artificers; and Dehli mourns
Her empty and depopulated Streets.
Now at the Camp arriv'd, with stern Review,
Thro' Groves of Spears, from File to File, he darts
His sharp experienc'd Eye; their Order marks,
Each in his Station rang'd, exact and firm,
'Till in the boundless Line his Sight is lost.
Not greater Multitudes in Arms appear'd,
On these extended Plains, when Ammon's Son 350
With mighty Porus in dread Battle join'd,
The Vassal World the Prize. Nor was that Host
More numerous of old, which the great [1]King
Pour'd out on Greece from all th'unpeopled East;
That bridg'd the Hellespont from Shore to Shore, 355
And drank the Rivers dry. Mean while in Troops
The busy Hunter-train mark out the Ground,
A wide Circumference; full many a League
In Compass round; Woods, Rivers, Hills, and Plains,
Large Provinces, enough to gratify 360
Ambition's highest Aim, could Reason bound
Man's erring Will. Now sit in close Divan
The mighty Chiefs of this prodigious Host.
He from the Throne high-eminent presides,
Gives out his Mandates proud, Laws of the Chace,
From ancient Records drawn. With Rev'rence low,
And prostrate at his Feet, the Chiefs receive
His irreversible Decrees, from which
To vary, is to die. Then his brave Bands
Each to his Station leads; encamping round, 370
'Till the wide Circle is compleatly form'd.
Where decent Order reigns, what these command
Those execute with Speed, and punctual Care;
In all the strictest Discipline of War:
As if some watchful Foe, with bold Insult, 375
Hung low'ring o'er their Camp. The high Resolve,
That flies on Wings, thro' all th'encircling Line,
Each Motion steers, and animates the whole.
So by the Sun's attractive Pow'r controll'd,
The Planets in their Spheres roll round his Orb, 380
On all he shines, and rules the great Machine.

E'er yet the Morn dispels the fleeting Mists,
The Signal giv'n by the loud Trumpet's Voice,
Now high in Air, th' Imperial Standard waves,
Emblazon'd rich with Gold, and glitt'ring Gems;
And like a Sheet of Fire, thro' the dun Gloom
Streaming meteorous. The Soldiers Shouts,
And all the brazen Instruments of War,
With mutual Clamour, and united Din,
Fill the large Concave. While from Camp to Camp, 390
They catch the varied Sounds, floating in Air.
Round all the wide Circumference, Tygers fell
Shrink at the Noise, deep in his gloomy Den
The Lion starts, and Morsels yet unchew'd
Drop from his trembling Jaws. Now all at once
Onward they march embattled, to the Sound
Of martial Harmony; Fifes, Cornets, Drums,
That rouse the sleepy Soul to Arms, and bold
Heroick Deeds. In Parties here and there
Detach'd o'er Hill and Dale, the Hunters range 400
Inquisitive; strong Dogs that match in Fight
The boldest Brute, around their Masters wait,
A faithful Guard. No Haunt unsearch'd, they drive
From ev'ry Covert, and from ev'ry Den,
The lurking Savages. Incessant Shouts 405
Re-echo thro' the Woods, and kindling Fires
Gleam from the Mountain Tops; the Forest seems
One mingling Blaze: Like Flocks of Sheep they fly
Before the flaming Brand: Fierce Lions, Pards,
Boars, Tygers, Bears, and Wolves; a dreadful Crew 410
Of grim blood-thirsty Foes: growling along,
They stalk indignant; but fierce Vengeance still
Hangs pealing on their Rear, and pointed Spears
Present immediate Death. Soon as the Night
Wrapt in her sable Veil forbids the Chace, 415
They pitch their Tents, in even Ranks, around
The circling Camp. The Guards are plac'd, and Fires
At proper Distances ascending rise,
And paint th' Horizon with their ruddy Light.
So round some Island's Shore of large Extent, 420
Amid the gloomy Horrors of the Night,
The Billows breaking on the pointed Rocks,
Seem all one Flame, and the bright Circuit wide
Appears a Bulwark of surrounding Fire.
What dreadful Howlings, and what hideous Roar, 425
Disturb those peaceful Shades! where erst the Bird
That glads the Night, had chear'd the list'ning Groves
With sweet Complainings. Thro' the silent Gloom
Oft they the Guards assail; as oft repell'd
They fly reluctant, with hot-boiling Rage 430
Stung to the Quick, and mad with wild Despair.
Thus Day by Day, they still the Chace renew;
At Night encamp; 'till now in streighter Bounds
The Circle lessens, and the Beasts perceive
The Wall that hems them in on ev'ry Side. 435
And now their Fury bursts, and knows no Mean;
From Man they turn, and point their ill-judg'd Rage
Against their fellow Brutes. With Teeth and Claws
The Civil War begins; grapling they tear,
Lions on Tygers prey, and Bears on Wolves: 440
Horrible Discord! 'Till the Crowd behind
Shouting pursue, and part the bloody Fray.
At once their Wrath subsides; tame as the Lamb
The Lion hangs his Head, the furious Pard,
Cow'd and subdu'd, flies from the Face of Man, 445
Nor bears one Glance of his commanding Eye.
So abject is a Tyrant in Distress.

At last within the narrow Plain confin'd,
A listed Field, mark'd out for bloody Deeds,
An Amphitheatre more glorious far 450
Than ancient Rome cou'd boast, they crowd in heaps,
Dismay'd, and quite appall'd. In meet Array
Sheath'd in refulgent Arms, a noble Band
Advance; great Lords of high Imperial Blood,
Early resolv'd t'assert their Royal Race, 455
And prove by glorious Deeds their Valour's Growth
Mature, e'er yet the callow Down has spread
Its curling Shade. On bold Arabian Steeds
With decent Pride they sit, that fearless hear
The Lion's dreadful Roar; and down the Rock 460
Swift-shooting plunge, or o'er the Mountain's Ridge
Stretching along, the greedy Tyger leave
Panting behind. On Foot their faithful Slaves
With Javelins arm'd attend; each watchful Eye
Fix'd on his youthful Care, for him alone 465
He fears, and to redeem his Life, unmov'd
Wou'd lose his own. The mighty Aurengzebe,
From his high-elevated Throne, beholds
His blooming Race; revolving in his Mind.
What once he was, in his gay Spring of Life, 470
When Vigour strung his Nerves. Parental Joy
Melts in his Eyes, and flushes in his Cheeks.
Now the loud Trumpet sounds a Charge. The Shouts
Of eager Hosts, thro' all the circling Line,
And the wild Howlings of the Beasts within 475
Rend wide the Welkin, Flights of Arrows, wing'd
With Death, and Javelins lanc'd from ev'ry Arm,
Gall sore the brutal Bands, with many a Wound
Gor'd thro' and thro'. Despair at last prevails,
When fainting Nature shrinks, and rouses all 480
Their drooping Courage. Swell'd with furious Rage,
Their Eyes dart Fire; and on the youthful Band
They rush implacable. They their broad Shields
Quick interpose; on each devoted Head
Their flaming Falchions, as the Bolts of Jove, 485
Descend unerring. Prostrate on the Ground
The grinning Monsters lye, and their foul Gore
Defiles the verdant Plain. Nor idle stand
The trusty Slaves; with pointed Spears they pierce
Thro' their tough Hides; or at their gaping Mouths
An easier Passage find. The King of Brutes
In broken Roarings breaths his last; the Bear
Grumbles in Death; nor can his spotted Skin,
Tho' slick it shine, with varied Beauties gay,
Save the proud Pard from unrelenting Fate. 495
The Battle bleeds, grim Slaughter strides along,
Glutting her greedy Jaws, grins o'er her Prey.
Men, Horses, Dogs, fierce Beasts of ev'ry kind,
A strange promiscuous Carnage, drench'd in Blood,
And Heaps on Heaps amass'd. What yet remain 500
Alive, with vain Assault contend to break
Th' impenetrable Line. Others, whom Fear
Inspires with self-preserving Wiles, beneath
The Bodies of the Slain for Shelter creep.
Aghast they fly, or hide their Heads dispers'd. 505
And now perchance (had Heav'n but pleas'd) the Work
Of Death had been compleat; and Aurengzebe
By one dread Frown extinguish'd half their Race.
When lo! the bright Sultanas of his Court
Appear, and to his ravish'd Eyes display 510
Those Charms, but rarely to the Day reveal'd.

Lowly they bend, and humbly sue, to save
The vanquish'd Host. What Mortal can deny
When suppliant Beauty begs? At his Command
Op'ning to Right and Left, the well-train'd Troops
Leave a large Void for their retreating Foes.
Away they fly, on Wings of Fear upborn,
To seek on distant Hills their late Abodes,

Ye proud Oppressors, whose vain Hearts exult
In Wantonness of Pow'r, 'gainst the brute Race, 520
Fierce Robbers like your selves, a guiltless War
Wage uncontroll'd: Here quench your Thirst of Blood;
But learn from Aurengzebe to spare Mankind.

  1. Xerxes.