XVIII. The drunkard now fupinely fnores, His load of ale fweats through his pores, 70 Yet when he wakes the fwine fhall find XIX. The fober now and chaft are blest With fweet, and with refreshing reft, And to found fleepst hey've best pretence 75 Who've greatest share of innocence. XX. We should fo live then that we may V. 76. Have. THEODORE AND HONORIA. [A TRANSLATION FROM BOCCACE.] BY JOHN DRYDEN, ESQ. POET LAUREAT.* Of all the cities in Romanian lands, The chief, and most renown'd, Ravenna ftands, 5 10 This noble youth to madness lov'd a dame Of high degree, Honoria was her name; Fair as the faireft, but of haughty mind, And fiercer than became so soft a kind; Proud of her birth (for equal she had none) The rest she scorn'd, but hated him alone; His gifts, his constant courtship, nothing gain'd; For fhe, the more he lov'd, the more difdain'd. He liv'd with all the pomp he could devise, At tilts and tournaments obtain'd the prize; But found no favour in his ladys eyes : Born 1631; dyed 1701. } Relentless as a rock, the lofty maid Turn'd all to poison, that he did or faid: 20 Nor pray'rs, nor tears, nor offer'd vows, could move; The work went backward; and the more he ftrove T'advance his fuit, the farther from her love. Weary'd, at length, and wanting remedy, 25 He doubted oft, and oft resolv’d to die. But pride stood ready to prevent the blow, For who would die to gratify a foe? His gen'rous mind disdain'd so mean a fate; That pafs'd, his next endeavour was to hate. 30 But vainer that relief than all the rest, 35 The lefs he hop'd, with more defire possess'd; His friends beheld, and pity'd him in vain, 41 45 This means they long propos'd, but little gain'd, With large expence, and with a pompous train, Or for some distant voyage o'er the main. 50 55 But love had clipp'd his wings, and cut him short, grove Supply'd with birds, the chorifters of love: To morning walks, and lull'd his cares by night: It happ'd one morning, as his fancy led, To walk within a lonely lawn, that stood Alone he walk'd, to please his penfive mind, 75 'Twas in a grove of spreading pines he stray'd;] He wander'd on, unknowing where he went, The day already half his race had run, 81 } } While lift'ning to the murm'ring leaves he stood, More than a mile immers'd within the wood, At once the wind was laid; the whisp'ring found Was dumb; a rifing earthquake rock'd the ground; With deeper brown the grove was overspread ; A fudden horror feiz'd his giddy head, And his ears tinkled, and his color fled; Nature was in alarm; fome danger nigh Seem'd threaten'd, tho unfeen to mortal eye. Unus'd to fear, he fummon'd all his foul, And food collected in himself, and whole; Not long for foon a whirlwind rofe around, And from afar he heard a fcreaming found, As of a dame diftrefs'd, who cry'd for aid, And fill'd with loud laments the secret shade, : 95 100 |