to see
  The crowd’s applause with virtue once agree. 
  Success charms all, but zeal for worth distress’d,
  A virtue proper to the brave and best; 810
  ’Mongst whom was Jothran—­Jothran always bent
  To serve the crown, and loyal by descent;
  Whose constancy so firm, and conduct just,
  Deserved at once two royal masters’ trust;
  Who Tyre’s proud arms had manfully withstood
  On seas, and gather’d laurels from the flood;
  Of learning yet no portion was denied,
  Friend to the Muses and the Muses’ pride. 
  Nor can Benaiah’s worth forgotten lie,
  Of steady soul when public storms were high; 820
  Whose conduct, while the Moor fierce onsets made,
  Secured at once our honour and our trade. 
  Such were the chiefs who most his sufferings mourn’d,
  And view’d with silent joy the prince return’d;
  While those that sought his absence to betray,
  Press first their nauseous false respects to pay;
  Him still the officious hypocrites molest,
  And with malicious duty break his rest.

   While real transports thus his friends employ,
  And foes are loud in their dissembled joy, 830
  His triumphs, so resounded far and near,
  Miss’d not his young ambitious rival’s ear;
  And as when joyful hunters’ clamorous train,
  Some slumbering lion wakes in Moab’s plain,
  Who oft had forced the bold assailants yield,
  And scatter’d his pursuers through the field,
  Disdaining, furls his mane and tears the ground,
  His eyes inflaming all the desert round,
  With roar of seas directs his chasers’ way,
  Provokes from far, and dares them to the fray:  840
  Such rage storm’d now in Absalom’s fierce breast,
  Such indignation his fired eyes confess’d. 
  Where now was the instructor of his pride? 
  Slept the old pilot in so rough a tide,
  Whose wiles had from the happy shore betray’d,
  And thus on shelves the credulous youth convey’d? 
  In deep revolving thoughts he weighs his state,
  Secure of craft, nor doubts to baffle fate;
  At least, if his storm’d bark must go adrift,
  To balk his charge, and for himself to shift, 850
  In which his dexterous wit had oft been shown,
  And in the wreck of kingdoms saved his own. 
  But now, with more than common danger press’d,
  Of various resolutions stands possess’d,
  Perceives the crowd’s unstable zeal decay
  Lest their recanting chief the cause betray,
  Who on a father’s grace his hopes may ground,
  And for his pardon with their heads compound. 
  Him therefore, e’er his fortune slip her time. 
  The statesman plots to engage in some bold crime 860
  Past pardon—­whether to attempt his bed,
  Or threat with open arms the royal head,
  Or other daring method, and unjust,