Enjoy thy bondage, make thy prison know
Thou hast a liberty, thou canst not owe
To those base punishments; keep't entire, since
Nothing but guilt shackles the conscience.
I dare not tempt thy valiant blood to whey,
Enfeebling it to pity; nor dare pray
Thy act may mercy finde, least thy great story
Lose somewhat of its miracle and glory.
I wish thy merit, laboured cruelty;
Stout vengeance best befits thy memory.
For I would have posterity to hear,
He that can bravely do, can bravely bear.
Tortures may seem great in a coward's eye;
It's no great thing to suffer, less to die.
Should all the clouds fall out, and in that strife,
Lightning and thunder send to take my life,
I would applaud the wisdom of my fate,
Which knew to value me at such a rate,
As at my fall to trouble all the sky,
Emptying upon me Jove's full armoury.
Serve in your sharpest mischiefs; use your rack,
Enlarge each joint, and make each sinew crack;
Thy soul before was straitened; thank thy doom,
To show her virtue she hath larger room.
Yet sure if every artery were broke,
Thou wouldst find strength for such another stroke.
And now I leave thee unto Death and Fame,
Which lives to shake Ambition with thy name;
And if it were not sin, the court by it
Should hourly swear before the favourite.
Farewell! for thy brave sake we shall not send
Henceforth commanders, enemies to defend;
Nor will it ever our just monarch please,
To keep an admiral to lose our seas.
Farewell! undaunted stand, and joy to be
Of public service the epitome.
Let the duke's name solace and crown thy thrall;
All we by him did suffer, thou for all!
And I dare boldly write, as thou dar'st die,
Stout Felton, England's ransom, here doth lie![259]
This is to be a great poet. Felton, who was celebrated in such elevated
strains, was, at that moment, not the patriot but the penitent. In
political history it frequently occurs that the man who accidentally has
effectuated the purpose of a party, is immediately invested by them with
all their favourite virtues; but in reality having acted from motives
originally insignificant and obscure, his character may be quite the
reverse they have made him; and such was that of our "honest Jack." Had
Townley had a more intimate acquaintance with his Brutus, we might have
lost a noble poem on a noble subject.