That the good boat this tempest should outlive. But storms increase, and now no hope of grace Among them shines, save in the Prince's face; The rest resign their courage, skill, and sight, To danger, horror, and unwelcome night. 60 The gentle vessel (wont with state and pride On the smooth back of silver Thames to ride) Wanders astonish'd in the angry main, As Titan's car did, while the golden rein Fill'd the young hand of his adventurous son,[4] When the whole world an equal hazard run To this of ours, the light of whose desire Waves threaten now, as that was scared by fire. Th' impatient sea grows impotent, and raves, That, night assisting, his impetuous waves 70 Should find resistance from so light a thing; These surges ruin, those our safety bring. Th' oppress'd vessel doth the charge abide, Only because assail'd on every side; So men with rage and passion set on fire, Trembling for haste, impeach their mad desire. The pale Iberians had expired with fear, But that their wonder did divert their care, To see the Prince with danger moved no more Than with the pleasures of their court before; 80 Godlike his courage seem'd, whom nor delight Could soften, nor the face of death affright. Next to the power of making tempests cease, Was in that storm to have so calm a peace. Great Maro could no greater tempest feign, When the loud winds usurping on the main, For angry Juno labour'd to destroy The hated relics of confounded Troy; His bold Aeneas, on like billows toss'd In a tall ship, and all his country lost, 90 Dissolves with fear; and both his hands upheld, Proclaims them happy whom the Greeks had quell'd In honourable fight; our hero, set In a small shallop, Fortune in his debt, So near a hope of crowns and sceptres, more Than ever Priam, when he flourish'd, wore; His loins yet full of ungot princes, all His glory in the bud, lets nothing fall That argues fear; if any thought annoys The gallant youth, 'tis love's untasted joys, 100 And dear remembrance of that fatal glance, For which he lately pawn'd his heart[5] in France; Where he had seen a brighter nymph than she[6] That sprung out of his present foe, the sea. That noble ardour, more than mortal fire, The conquer'd ocean could not make expire; Nor angry Thetis raise her waves above Th' heroic Prince's courage or his love; 'Twas indignation, and not fear he felt, The shrine should perish where that image dwelt. Ah, Love forbid! the noblest of thy train 111 Should not survive to let her know his pain; Who nor his peril minding, nor his flame, Is entertain'd with some less serious game, Among the bright nymphs of the Gallic court, All highly born, obsequious to her sport; They roses seem, which in their early pride But half reveal, and half their beauties hide; She the glad morning, which her beams does throw