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But yet not his; to Morrow is behind,
And Love our Fortunes in one Band has join'd:
Two Brothers are our Foes; Ormisda mine,
As much declar'd, as Pasimond is thine:
To Morrow must their common Vows be tyd ;
With Love to Friend and Fortune for ourGuide,
Let both resolve to die, or each redeem a Bride.

Right I have none, nor hast thou much to plead ;
'Tis Force when done must justifie the Deed:
Our Task perform’d, we next prepare for Flight ;
And let the Losers talk in vain of Right:
We with the Fair will fail before the Wind,
If they are griev'd, I leave the Laws behind.
Speak thy Resolves; If now thy Courage droop,
Despair in Prison and abandon Hope ;
But if thou dar’st in Arms thy Love regain,
(For Liberty without thy Love were vain:)
Then second my Design to seize the Prey, [way.
Or lead to second Rape, for well thou know'lt the

Said Cymon overjoy'd, Do thou propose
The Means to Fight, and only shew the Foes;

For

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For from the first, when Love had fir'd my Mind, Resolv'd I left the Care of Life behind.

To this the bold Lysimachus reply'd,
Let Heav'n be neuter, and the Sword decide:
The Spousals are prepar'd, already play
The Minstrils, and provoke the tardy Day:
By this the Brides are wak'd, their rooms are

dress'd;
All Rhodes is fummond to the Nuptial Feast,
All but my self the fole unbidden Guest.
Unbidden though I am, I will be there,
And, join'd by thee, intend to joy the Fair.

Now hear the reft; when Day resigns the Light,
And chearful Torches gild the jolly Night,
Be ready at my Call; my chosen few
With Arms administer'd shall aid thy Crew.
Then entring unexpected will we seize
Our destin'd Prey, from Men dissolv'd in eafe ;
By Wine disabled, unprepar'd for Fight;
And haftning to the Seas suborn our Flight:
The Seas are ours, for I command the Fort,
A Ship well man'd expe&s us in the Port:

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If they, or if their Friends, the Prize conteft, Death shall attend the Man who dares resist.

It pleas’d! the Pris’ner to his Hold retird, His Troop with equal Emulation fir'd,

[quir'd. All fix'd to Fight, and all their wonted Work re

The Sun arose; the Streets were throngd around, The Palace open'd, and the Posts were crown'd: The double Bridegroom at the Door attends Th’expected Spouse, and entertains the Friends: They meet, they lead to Church; the Priests invoke The Pow'rs, and feed the Flames with fragrant

Smoke: This done they Feast, and at the close of Night By kindled Torches vary their Delight, These lead the lively Dance, and those the brim

ming Bowls invite. Now at th’appointed Place and Hour assign’d, With Souls resolv'd the Ravishers were join'd: Three Bands are form’d: The first is sent before To favour the Retreat, and guard the Shore: The fecond at the Palace-gate is plac'd, And

up the lofty Stairs ascend the last:

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A peaceful Troop they seem with shining Vests, But Coats of Male beneath secure their Breasts.

Dauntlefs they enter, Cymon at their Head, And find the Feast renew'd, the Table spread: Sweet Voices, mix'd with instrumental Sounds, Ascend che yaulted Roof,the vaulted Roof rebounds. When like the Harpies rushing through the Hall The sudden Troop appears, the Tables fall, Their smoaking Loadis on the Pavement thrown; Each Ravisher prepares to seize his own: The Brides, invaded with a rude Embrace, Shreek out for Aid, Confusion fills the Place: Quick to redeem the Prey their plighted Lords Advance, the Palace gleams with shining Swords,

But late is all Defence, and Succour vain; The Rape is made, the Ravishers remain: Two sturdy Slaves were only sent before. Tobear the purchas'd Prize in Safety to the Shore. The Troop retires, the Lovers close the Rear, With forward Faces not confessing Fear; Backward they move, but scorn theirPace to mend; Then seek the Stairs, and with flow hafte descend.

Fierce Pafimond, their Passage to prevent,
Thrust full on Cymon's Back in his Descent,
The Blade return'd unbath'd, and to the Handle
bent:

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Stout Cymon soon remounts, and cleft in two
His Rival's Head with one descending Blow:
And as the next in rank Ormisda stood,
He turn'd the Point: The Sword inur'd to Bload,
Bor'd his unguarded Breaft, which pour’d

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With vow'd Revenge the gathering Crowd
pursues,

22
The Ravilhers turn Head, the Fight renews
The Hall is heap'd with Corps ; the sprinkled Gore
Besmears the Walls, and floats the Marble Floor.
Dispers’d at length the drunken Squadron flies,
The Vi&ors to their Veffel bear the Prize;
And hear behind loud Groans, and lamentable

Cries.
TheCrew with merryShouts their Anchors weigh,
Then ply their Oars, and brush the buxom Sea,
While Troops of gather'd Rhodians croud theKey.

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