"For the Black King that had usurp'd that Land, / An Ill shapt Bastard had, of proud command, / Whom having drest up in a much Gallantry, / He did appear so pleasant in her Eye, / That he before had her affections won, / And in her heart established his Throne."
— Keach, Benjamin (1640-1704)
And little had he don that we can hear
About obtaining of the Creatures love,
But gloriously did then the matter move,
Unto the Soul, who little did it mind,
For she (alas) was otherwise inclin'd:
For the Black King that had usurp'd that Land,
An Ill shapt Bastard had, of proud command,
Whom having drest up in a much Gallantry,
He did appear so pleasant in her Eye,
That he before had her affections won,
And in her heart established his Throne;
Though he design'd no less than to betray
And murder her in an insidious way:
Of which the silly Soul was not aware,
But fondly blind could not discern the snare.
Too like (alas) to many now a dayes,
Whom fawning words and flattery betrays.
This Imp of Darkness, and first-born of Hell
Transform'd by Witchcraft, and a cursed Spell,
Like a brisk gawdy Gallant now appears,
And still false locks, and borrowed Garments wears:
Then boldly sets upon her, and with strong
And sweet lip'd Rhetorick of a Courtly tongue
Salutes her Ears, and doth each way discover
The Amorous Language of a wanton Lover.
He smiles, he toyes, and now and then lets fly
Imperious glances from his lustful Eye;
Adorns her Orient Neck with Pearly charms,
And with rich Bracelets decks her Ivory Arms:
Boasts the extent of his Imperial Power,
And offers Wealth and worldly pleasure to her.
Jocund he seem'd, and full of sprightly Mirth,
And the poor Soul never inquir'd his Birth.
She lik'd his Face, but dream't not of the Dart
Wherewith he waited to transfix her Heart.
There is no foe to such a Dalilaw,
As pretends love, yet ready is to draw
The Poysonous Spear, and with a treacherous kiss
Be reaves the Soul of everlasting Bliss.
If you would know this treacherous Monster's name
(As you before have heard from whence he came)
'Tis he by whom thousands deceiv'd have bin,
Heav'ns foe, and Satan's cursed Off-spring, SIN.
A violater of all Righteous Laws,
And one that still to all Uncleaness draws;
Author of Whored omes, Perjuries, Disorders,
Thefts, Rapines, Blood, Idolatries, and Murders.
From whom all Plagues, and all Diseases flow!
And Death it self to him his be'ng doth ow.
This Monster of Pollution, the undone
Poor Soul too long had been enamour'd on;
And by the Craft his Sire Apollyon lent,
Doubted not to obtain her full Consent.
But when Apollyon saw this Prince of Peace,
His wrathfull spight against him did encrease:
So brave a Rival he could not endure,
But sought all means his Ruine to procure.
Shall I, saith he, thus lose my hop'd-for prey,
See my Designs all blasted in one day,
Which I have carried on from Age to Age,
With deepest Policy, and fiercest Rage?
My utmost Stratagems I first will try,
And rather on the very Spot Ile dye.
Thus Hellishly-resolv'd, he does prepare
Straight to commence the bold and Impious War,
And now the sharp Encounter does begin
A Fight so fierce no eye had ever seen,
Nor shall hereafter ere behold agen.
But first be pleas'd to take a prospect here,
Of the two Combatants as they appear:
The first a Person of Celestial Race,
Lovely his shape, ineffable his Face;
The frown with which he struck the trembling Fiend
All smiles of humane Beauty did transcend:
His head's with Glory arm'd, and his strong hand
No power of Earth or Hell can long withstand.
He heads the mighty Hosts in Heav'n above,
And all on Earth, who do Jehovah love.
His Camp's so great, they many millions are,
With whom no one for Courage may compare,
They are all chosen men, and cloath'd in white,
Ah! to behold them, what a lovely sight
Is it! And yet more grave and lovely far
To joyn and make one in this Holy War.
The other was a King of Courage bold,
But very grim and ghastly to behold;
Great was his power, yet his garb did show
Sad Symptoms of a former overthrow:
But now recruited with a numerous Train,
Arm'd with dispair, he tempts his fate again.
Under his Banner the black Regiments fight,
And all the Wicked Troops which hate the light:
His Voluntiers are spread from North to South,
And flaming Sulphur belches from his Mouth.
Such was the grand Importance of their fight,
It did all eyes on Earth and Heaven invite
To be spectators, and attention lend:
So much did ne're on any Field depend;
No not Pharsalia's Plains, where Cæsar fought,
And the Worlds Empire at one conquest caught.
Alas, the Issue of that famous Fray,
May not compare with this more fatal Day.