THE MIND OF THE FRONTISPIECE, And Argument of this WORK.  

FIre, Aire, Earth, Water, all the Opposites  
That throve in 〈◊〉, powerful 〈◊〉 unites;  
And from their Discord drew this Harmony  
That smiles in 〈◊〉: who, with ravished eye,  
Affects his owne-made beauties. But, our Will,  
〈◊〉, and ●ow●es ●raserble, the skill  
Of ●allas orders; who the Mind attires  
With all Hero●●● Vertuest ● This aspires  
〈◊〉 same and 〈◊〉; by her noble Guide  
Eternised, and well-nigh Deified.  
But who forsake that fair Intelligence,  
To follow Passion, and voluptuous Sense;  
That shun the Path and ●oyles of Hercules:  
Such, charmed by 〈◊〉 luxury, and case,  
〈◊〉 deform: 'twixt whom, so great an odds;  
That these are held for Beasts, and those for Gods.   

PHO●BVS APOLLO (s●red Poesy)  
Thus 〈…〉 for in the ancient Fables he  
The 〈…〉 all P●●losophie.   

〈…〉 s●me appear  
〈…〉 teach us how to bear  
〈…〉 loy, Grief, Hope, and Fear.   

These 〈…〉 hose excite;  
These 〈…〉 those from Vice affright▪  
All 〈…〉 with Delight.   

The 〈…〉 and those that 〈◊〉,  
〈…〉 not by his Compass, sa●le.    

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS Englished by G S  
London Printed by Robert Young are to be sold by J. Grismond 1628.  
AD A●HE●A VIRTUS EX●LIS OR●● DOCVITQVAE AMORE 〈◊〉 ONTUR CUNCTA  
AFFIGIT HVMO DIVINAE PART●VLAM AV●●E.   

To the most High & Mighty Prince CHARLES, King of Great Britain, France, and IRELAND.  
SIR,  
YOur Gracious acceptance of the first fruits of my Travels, when You were our Hope, as now our Happiness; hath actua●ea both Will and Power to the finishing of this Piece: being limned by that unperfect light which was snatched from the hours of night and repose. For the day was not mine, but dedicated to the service of your Great Father, and you● self: which, had it proved as fortunate as faithful, in me, and others more worthy; we had hoped, ere many rears had turned about, to have presented You with a rich and wel-peopled Kingdom; from whence now, with myself, I only bring this Composure:  
Inter victrices Hederam tibi serpere Laurus.  
It needeth more than a single denization, being a double Stranger. Sprung from the stock of the ancient Romans; but bred in the New-world, of the rudeness whereof it cannot but participate; especially having Warns and Tumults to bring it to light in stead of the Muses. But how ever unperfect, Your ●auour is able to supply; and to make it worthy of life, if you judge it not unworthy of your Royal Patronage. Long may you live to be, as you are, the Delight and Glory of your People: and slowly, yet surely, exchange your mortal Diadem for an immortal. So wishes.  
Your Majesty's most humble Servant, GEORGE SANDYS.   

THE LIFE OF OVID.  
PUBLIUS OVID NASO, descended of the ancient Family of the Nasones, who had preserved the dignity of Roman Knights from the first original of that Order, was borne at Sulmo, a City of the Peligni, on the 14. of the Calends of April, in the Consulships of Hircius and Pansa, both slain at the battle of Mutina against Marcus Antonius. While yet a boy, his quick wit and ready apprehension gave his parents an assurance of a future excellency: in so much as his father Lucius sent him to Rome (together with his brother, a year elder than he, and borne on the same day) to be instructed by Plotius Grippus, that Art might perfect the accomplishments of nature. In his first of youth he was much addicted unto poetry, wherein he had 〈…〉 grace and natural facility▪ But continually reproved by his father for following so unprofitable a 〈◊〉 with an ill will he forsook the pleasant walks of the Muses to travel in the rugged paths of the Law, under 〈…〉 and Porcius Lairo; of whose ●●●quence and learning he was a great Admirer. Neither attained he the● in to a vulgar commendation; being 〈…〉 by Marcus Annaeus Sene●a among the principal Orators of those times. His prose was no other than dissolved verse: his speech witty, brief, and powerful in persuasion. Having passed through diverse offices of judicature, and now ready to assume the habit of a Senator: his elder brother and father being dead, impatient of toil, and the clamours of litigious Assemblies, he retired himself from all public affairs to affected vacancy and his former abandoned studies. Yet such was the mutual affection between him and Varro, that he accepted of Command, & served under him in the wars of Asia: from whence he returned by Athens, where he made his abode, until he had attained to the perfection of that language. He was of a mean stature, slender of body, spare of diet; and, it not too amorous, every way temperate. He drunk no wine but what was much allayed with water: An Abhorrer of unnatural Lusts, from which it should seem that age was not innocent: neat in apparel; of a free, affable, and courtly behaviour; whereby he acquired the friendship of many, such as were great in learning & nobility; among whom not a few of Consular dignity: and so honoured by diverse, that they wore his picture in rings cut in precious stones. A great Admirer, and as much admired, of the excellent Poets of those times, with whom he was most familiar and intimate. Being persuaded by some of them to leave out three verses of those many which he had written, he gave his consent, so that of all he might except three only: whereupon they privately writ those which they would have him abolish, and he on the other side those which he excepted, when both their papers, being shown, presented the same verses, the first and second recorded by Pedo Albinovanus, who was one of the arbiters, 
Semi bovemque virum, semi ●irumque bovem.  
Sedg lidum Borean, egelidumque Notum.  whereby it appeareth that his admirable wit did not want an answerable judgement in suppressing the liberty of his verse, had he not affected it. An ample patrimony he had in the territories of Sulmo; with a house and a temple in the city, where now stands the Church of Sancta Maria de Tumba; and where now stands the Church of Sancta Maria de Consolation he had an other in Rome, not far from the Capitol; with pleasant Hort-yards between the ways of Flaminia and Claudia, wherein he was accustomed to recreate himself with his Muses. He had had three wives: whereof the first being given him in his youth, as neither worthy nor profitable, soon after (according to the custom of the Romans) he divorced: nor lived he long with the second, although nobly borne, and of behaviour inculpable. The chastity and beauty of the third he often extolleth; whom he instructed in poetry, and to his death entirely affected. Neither was her affection inferior to his; living all the time of his banishment like a sorrowful widow; and continuing to the end exemplary faithful. But in this every-way happy condition, when his age required ease, and now about to employ his beloved vacancy in the reniew and polishing of his former labours, he was banished, or rather confined to Tomos (a city of Sarmatia bordering on the Euxine Sea) by Augustus Caesar, on the fourth of the Ides of December, and in the one and fiftieth year of his age, to the general grief of his friends & acquaintance; who sailed into Thrace in a ship of his own, and by land performed the rest of his voyage. The cause of this his so cruel and deplored exile is rather conjectured than certainly known. Most agree that it was for his too much familiarity with julia the daughter of Augustus, masked under the name of Corinna. Others, that he had unfortunately seen the incest of Caesar: which may be insinuated, in, that he complains of his error, and compares himself to Actaeon. But the pretended occasion was for his composing of the Art of Love, as intolerably lascivious, and corrupting good manners. A pretence I may call it, since unlikely it is that he should banish him in his age for what he writ when hardly a man, & after so long a connivance. Yet Augustus, either to conceal his own crime or his daughters, would have it so thought: neither would Ov 〈◊〉 reneale the true cause, lest he should further exasperate his displeasure. After he had long in vain solicited his repease by the mediation of Germanicus Caesar, and others that were near unto the Emperor; or at least to be removed to a more temperate Clime; his hopes (as he writes) forsaking the earth with Augustus, he died at Tomos in the fifth year of the reign of Tiberius; having lived seven years in banishment. As Tibullus and he were borne in one day, so he and Livy died on an other; that his birth and death might be nobly accompanied. He had so won the barbarous Gets with his humanity and generous actions (having also written a book in their language) that they honoured him in his life with triumphant garlands, and celebrated his funerals with universal sorrow; erecting his tomb before the gates of their city, hard by a lake which retaineth his name to this day. His sepulchre was found in the year, MDVIII. with a magnificent coverture presenting this Epitaph.   

FATYM NECESSITATIS LEX.  
Here ●es that ●iu ag Po●t, by the rage  
C●g●ear Augustus banished from Rome:  
Who 〈◊〉 his cou●● 〈…〉 sought the intere● b● Age;  
But vainly, Fate hath lodged him in this tomb.  
Isabel Queen of Hungary, in the year MDXL. showed to Bargaeu● a pen of silver, found not long before under certain ruins, with this inscription; OVIDII NASONIS CALAMUS: which she highly esteemed, and preserved as a sacred relic. Of the books which he writ, since most of them are extant among us, I will only recite these following verses of Anga'u● Politianus.  

1 From times first birth be chants the change of things  
2 ●●e stanies of 〈◊〉 in ●legiacks sings,  
3 〈…〉 lbis he ensnares,  
4 〈…〉 with ●ouers cares,  
5 〈…〉 deplores his sad exile,  
6 〈…〉 Roman Festivals comes,  
7 〈…〉 unknown to Latin ears,  
8 〈…〉 glide in heauëly spheres,  
9 〈…〉 igran mickr●mes,  
10 〈…〉 climes,  
11. 〈…〉 abuse the times,   
Yet leaves he out the Remedy of Love, a legitimate Poem (except he make it an appendix to the Art) and his Consolation to Livia for the death of Drusus: which Seneca hath excerped and sprinkled among his several Consolations. Among such a multiplicity of arguments our gentle Poet did never write a virulent verse, but only against Cormficus; (masked under the name of Ibis) who solicited his wi●e in his absence, and laboured against the repeal of his banishment. Concerning his Metamorphosis, it should seem that he therein imitated Parthenius of Chios, who writ on the same argument: as the Latin Poets even generally borrowed their inventions from the Grecian Magazines. I will conclude with that himself hath written of this Poem, wherein I have employed my vacant hours: with what success, I leave to the censure of others, which perhaps may prou● less rigid than my own.  
I thank your love: 
Trist ●lib●. Elegia. 6.  my verse far liveber then  
My picture show me; wherefore those peruse:  
My verse, which sing the charged shapes of men  
Though lest unpersect by my banished Muse.  
Departing, these I sadly with my hand  
I● to the fire, with other riches, threw.  
Her so●ne so Thestias burning in his brand,  
A better sister than a mother grew:  
So I, what should not perish with me, cast  
Those broke, my issue; in the sunerall flame:  
In that I did my Muse and verse distaste;  
Or that as yet unpolished and lame.  
But since I could not so destroy them quite;  
I or sundry copies it should scene there be:  
Now may they live, nor lazily delight  
The generous header; put in mind of me.  
Yet they with patience can by none be read,  
That know not how they uncorrected stand:  
Snatched from the forge, are throughly anuiled;  
Deprived of my last life-giving hand.  
For praise I pardon crave: though highly graced  
If, Reader, they be not despised by thee:  
Yet in the front be these six verses placed;  
if with thy liking it at least agree.  
Who me●ts this Orpl an-volume, poor in worth  
Within your 〈◊〉 charlorage afford.  
In wi●ne are favour, ●et by him set forth;  
〈◊〉 ●sht from lie uncrell of his jod.  
The 〈…〉 which presents its wae defect,  
At pleasure with a friendly hand correct.   

OVID DEFENDED.  
SInce diverse, only witty in reprooving, have profaned our Poet with their fastidious censures: we, to vindicate his worth from detraction, and provent preiudicacie, have here revived a few of those infinite testimonies, which the clearest judgements of all Ages have given him. I will begin with the censure of that accurate Orator MARCUS ANNaeVS SENECA, 
Controu. 10.  One of his frequent and admiring Auditors. NASO had a constant, becoming, and amiable wit. His Prose appeared no other than dissolved Verses: And a little after. Of his words no Prodigal, except in his Verse: wherein, he was not ignorant of the fault, but affected it: and often would say, that a Molemisse-became not a beautiful face, but made it more lovely. Amongst the excellent of his time, we may esteem V●ULEIVS PATERCULUS, 
Hist. lib. 2.  Who writeth thus in his history. It is almost S. HIEROME; 
In Ose cap ●  Semiramis, of whom they report many wonders, erected the walls of Babylon; as ●es●tisiss that renowned Poet in the fourth book of his Metamorphosis. Nor is he forgot by S. AUGUSTINE. 
De Curs● De●  And Naso, that excellent Poet. Now descend we to those, whom later times have preferred for learning and judgement. Thus sings the high praised ANGEIUS POLITIANUS. 
In Natricia.  
'tis do by all, wa●trer 〈◊〉, whom Sulmo bore,  
The 〈…〉 Tiber honoured more,  
Than has soul ●x le thee desamed, O Rome!  
From Geuck 〈◊〉 (alas!) but I also in tomb.  
Perhaps 〈◊〉 serve thy Augustus spies  
To loike o● Iu●ia 〈◊〉 friendly eyes.  ERASMUS crownes him with the perfection of Eloquence. 
〈…〉.  And the Censurer of all Poets, JULIUS CaeSAR SCALIGER, 
〈…〉  thus writes, when he comes to censure our Author. But now we arrive where the height of wit, and sharpness of judgement, are both to be exercised, For, who can commend OVID sufficiently? much less, who dares reprehend him? Notwithstanding, I will say something; not in way of detraction, but that we also may be able to grow with his greatness. Then speaking of his Metamorphosis. Books deserving a more fortunate Author; that from his last hand they might have had their perfection: which he himself bewaileth in luculent Verses. Yet are there, in these, well-nigh an infinite number, which the wit of an other, I believe, could never have equalled. And thus exclaims against Caesar in the person of OVID.  
Tyrant, 
In Heroibus  with me I would thou badst begun:  
Nor thy black slaughters had my fate forerun.  
If my licentious Youth incensed thee so;  
Thy own condemns thee: into exile go.  
Thy Cabinets are stained with horrid deeds;  
And thy soul guilt all monstrous names exceeds.  
Divine wit, innocence, nor yet my tongue,  
Next to Apollo's could prevent my wrong.  
I smoethed th'old Poets with my fluent vain;  
And taught the New a far more numerous strain.  
When thee I praised then from the truth I swerved  
And banishment for that alone deserved.  
can he said to transcend him. What should I say of that singular, and well-nigh divine contexture of Fable with Fable? so surpassing, that nothing can be spoken or done, more artificially, more excellently; or, indeed, more gracefully. Who handling such diversity of matter, so cunningly weaves them together, that all appear but one Series. Planudes, well knowing that Greece had not a Poem so abounding with delight and beauty, translated it into that language. What should I say more? All Arts, which Antiquity knew, are here so fully delineated, that a number, expert in both tongues, of prime understanding and judgements, admire it beyond all expression. The first that writ a Commentary on this book (whereof fifty thousand were vented, and that in his life time) was RAPHAEL REGIUS: 
In praesar. Comment.  Who thus in his Preface. There is nothing appertaining to the knowledge and glory of war, whereof we have not famous examples in the Metamorphosis of OVID; (not to speak of stratagems, nor the Orations of Commanders) described with such efficacy and eloquence, that often, in reading, you will imagine yourself imbroiled in their conflicts. Neither shall you find any Author, from whom, a civil life may gather better instruction. JACOBUS MICYLLUS. 
In Principio Additionum.  Hardly shall you find a Poem, which flows with greater facility. For what should I speak of Learning? Herein, so great, so various, and abstruse; that many places have neither been explained, nor yet understood; no, not by the most knowing: requiring rather a resolution from the Delian Oracle, etc.  
Let the ingenuous, that affect not error, now rectify their own by the judgements of these. But, incurable Critics, who war about words, and gail the sound to feed on their sores, as not desiring their sanity, I forbear to dissuade, and deliver them up to the censure of Agrippa.   

QVOD OLIM FACIEBAT VOTUM GERMANI●O OVID, IDEM AVGVSTISS●MO CAROLO Interpretis sui nomine ●acu●nt OVIDIANIS MANES.  
EXcipe pacato, Caesa● Brittannice, vultu  
●●oc ●pus, 〈◊〉 tim d● dirige navis ●ter.  
Officioqus, l●uem non au●●●atu● honorem,  
Hu● 〈…〉 dexter ades.  
H●●c ●e da plac●●um d●deris in carmine vires:  
Ingenium unitu statque caditque tuo.  
Pag●a● 〈…〉 docte sub●tur● mo●etur  
Principis, ut Clar●o missa legenda De●.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The first Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THe World, formed out of Chaos. Man is made.  
The Age's change. The Giant's Heaven invade.  
Earth turns their blout to men Jove's flames confound  
L●caon, now a Wolf▪ The World is drowned,  
Mankind, cast stones restore. All quickening Earth  
Renews the rest, and gives new Monsters birth.  
Apollo, Python kills; hart-wounded, loves  
Lust-flying Daph●é: She a Laurel proves.  
jove, 〈◊〉 made a Cow, to mask foul deeds.  
Hermes, a Herdsman. Syri●x, changed to Reeds.  
Dead Argus eyes adorn the Peacock's train.  
The Cow, to I●, love transform's again.  
OF forms, to other bodies changed, I sing.  
Assist, you Gods (from you these wonders spring.)  
And, from the World's first fabric to these times▪  
Deduce my never discontinued Rymes.  
The Sea, the Earth, al-covering Heaven vnframed,  
One face had nature, which they Chaos named:  
An undigested lump; a barren load,  
Where iarr●ing seeds of things ill-ioyned abode.  
No Titan yet the World with light adorns;  
Nor waxing Phoebe filled her waned horns:  
Nor hung the selfe-poized Earth in thin Air placed;  
Nor Amphitrite the vast shore embraced.  
With Earth, was Air and Sea: the Earth unstable,  
The Air was dark, the Sea un-navigable:  
No certain form to any one assigned:  
This that resists. For, in one body joined,  
The Cold and Hot, the Dry and Humid fight:  
The Soft and Hard, the Heavy with the Light.  
But God, the better Nature, this decides:  
Who Earth from Heaven, the Sea from earth divides:  
And purer Heaven extracts from grosser Air.  
All which unfolded by his prudent care  
From that blind Mass; the happily disjoined  
With strifelesse▪ peace he to their seats confined.  
Forthwith up-sprung the quick and waightlesse Fire,  
Whose flames unto the highest Arch aspire:  
The next, in levity and place, is Air:  
Gross Elements to thicker Earth repair  
Selfe-cloged with weight: the Waters, flowing round,  
Possess the last, and solid Tellus bound.  
What God soever this division wrought,  
And every part to due proportion brought;  
First, lest the Earth unequal should appear,  
He turned it round, in figure of a Sphere;  
Then Seas diffused; commanding them to roar  
With ruffling Winds, and give the Land a shore.  
To those h● addeth Springs, Ponds, Lakes immense;  
And Rivers, whom their winding borders fence:  
Of these, not few Earth's thirsty jaws devour;  
The rest, their streams into the Ocean pour;  
When, in that liquid Plain, with freer wave,  
The foamy Cliffs, in stead of Banks, they lave:  
Bids Trees increase to Woods, the Plains extend,  
The rocky Mountains rise, and Vales descend.  
Two equal Zones, on either side, dispose  
The measured Heavens; a fifth, more hot than those.  
●s many Lines th'included Globe divide:  
●th'midst unsufferable beams reside;  
●now clothes the other two: the temperate hold  
'twixt these their seats, the heat well mixed with cold.  
As Earth, as Water, upper Air out-waighs;  
●o much doth Air Fire's lighter balance raise.  
●here, he commands the changing Clouds to stray;  
●here, thundering terrors mortal minds dismay;  
And with the Lightning, Winds engendering Snow:  
Yet not permitted every way to blow;  
Who hardly now to tear the World refrain  
●So Brother's jar!) thought they divided reign.  
●o Persis and Sabaea, Eurus flies;  
Whose fruits perfume the blushing Morn's uprise:  
●ext to the Evening, and the Coast the glows  
●ith setting Phoebus, flowery Zeph'rus blows:  
〈◊〉 Scythia horrid Boreas holds his reign,  
beneath Boötes and the frozen Wain:  
The Land to this opposed, doth Auster steep  
With fruitful showers, and clouds which ever weep.  
●boue all these he placed the liquid Skies;  
Which, void of earthly dregs, did highest rise.  
Scarce had he all thus orderly disposed;  
When-as the Stars their radiant heads disclosed  
(● Long 〈◊〉 in Night) and shone through all the sky.  
Then, that no place should unpossessed lie,  
●right Constellations, and fair-figured Gods,  
●n heavenly Mansions fixed their blessed abodes:  
The glittering Fishes to the Floods repair;  
The Beasts to Earth, the Birds resort to Air.  
The nobler Creature, with a mind possessed,  
Was wanting yet, that should command the rest.  
That Maker, the best World's original,  
Either 〈◊〉 framed of see Celestial;  
Or Earth, which late he did from Heaven divide,  
Some sacred seeds retained, to Heaven allied:  
Which with the living stream Prometheus mixed;  
And in that artificial structure fixed  
The form of all th' all-ruling Deities.  
And where as others see with downcast eyes,  
He with a lofty look did Man●indue,  
And bade him Heavens transcendent glories view.  
So, that rude Clay, which had no form afore,  
Thus changed, of Man the unknown figure bore.  
The Golden Age was first; which uncompelled,  
And without rule, in Faith and Truth excelled.  
As then▪ there was nor punishment nor fear;  
Nor threatening Laws in brass prescribed were;  
Nor suppliant crouching prisoner's shakes to see  
Their angry judge: but, all was safe and free.  
To visit other Worlds, no wounded Pine  
Did yet from Hills to faithless Seas decline.  
Then, unambitious Mortals knew no more,  
But their own country's Nature-bounded shore.  
Nor Swords, nor Arms were yet: no trenches round  
Besieged jownes, nor stri●●efull Trumpets sound:  
The Soldier, of no v●e. In firm content  
And harmless ease, their happy days were spent.  
The yet-free 〈◊〉 did of her own accord  
(Vntoin●● wit uploughs) all sorts of fruit afford.  
Content with Nature's un-enforced food,  
They gather Wildings, Strawb'ries of the Wood,  
●owre Cornels, what upon the Bramble grows,  
And Acorns, which Jove's spreading Oak bestows.  
●Twas always Spring: warm Zophyrus sweetly blew  
On smiling Flowers, which without setting grew.  
forthwith the Earth corn, unmanured, bears;  
And every year renews her golden Ears:  
With Milk and Nectar were the Rivers filled;  
And yellow Honey from green Elms distilled.  
But, after Saturn was thrown down to Hell,  
●ue ruled; and then the Silver Age befell:  
●ore base than Gold, and yet than Brass more pure.  
●ue changed the Spring (which always did endure)  
●o Winter, Summer, Autumn hot and cold:  
●he shortened Springs the year's fourthpart uphold,  
●hen, first the glowing Air with fervour burned:  
●he Rain to icicles by bleak winds turned.  
●en houses built; late housed in Caves profound,  
〈◊〉 plashed Bowers, and Sheds with Osiers bound.  
●hen, first was Corn into long furrows thrown:  
●nd Oxen under heaume yokes did 〈◊〉  
Next unto this succeeds the Brazen Age;  
●orse natured, prompt to horrid●warre, ●●●rage:  
〈◊〉 yet nor wicked. Stubborn Yr'● the 〈◊〉.  
●hen, blushless Crimes, which all degrees surpassed,  
●he World surround. Shame, Truth, and Faith depart.  
●●aud enters, ignorant in no bad Art.  
●●rce, Treason, and the wicked Love of gain.  
●heir sails, those winds, which yet they knew not, strain:  
●nd ships, which long on loft●● Mountains stood,  
●hen ploughed th' unpractised bosom of the Flood.  
The Ground, as common erst as Light, or Air,  
By limit-giving Geometric they share.  
Nor with rich Earth's just nourishments content,  
For treasure they her secret entrailes rend;  
The powerful Evil, which all power invades,  
By her well hid, and wrapped in Stygian shades.  
Cursed Steel, more cursed Gold she now forth brought:  
And bloody-handed War, who with both fought.  
All live by spoil. The Host his Guest betrays;  
Sons, Fathers-in-law: 'twixt Brethren love decays.  
Wife's husbands, husband's wives attempt to kill:  
And cruel Stepmother's pale poisons fill.  
The Son his Father's hasty death desires:  
Foiled Piety, trod under foot, expires.  
Astraa, last of all the heavenly birth,  
Affrighted leaves the blood-defiled Earth.  
And that the Heavens their safety might suspect,  
The Giants now celestial Thrones affect;  
Who to the skies congested Mountains rear.  
Then jove with thunder did Olympus tear;  
Steep Pelion from under Ossa thrown.  
With their own weight their monstrous bodies gro●e;  
And with her children's blood the Earth imbrued:  
Which she, scarce thoroughly cold, with life iudued;  
And gave thereto, t'vphold her Stock, the face  
And form of Man; a God-contemning Race,  
Greedy of slaughter, not to be withstood;  
Such, as well shows, that they were borne of blood.  
Which when from Heaven Saturnius did behold;  
He sigh't; revolving what was yet untold,  
Of fell Lycao●'s late ihhumane feast.  
Just anger, worthy jove, inflamed his breast.  
A Synod called, the summoned appear.  
There is a way, well seen when skies be clear,  
Tho Milky named: by this, the God's resort  
Unto th'almighty Thunderers high Court.  
With ever-open doors, on either hand,  
Of nobler Deities the Houses stand:  
The Vulgar dwell dispersed: the Chief and Great  
In front of all, their shining Mansions seat.  
This glorious Roof I would not doubt to call,  
Had I but boldness lent me, heaven's Whitehall.  
All set on Marble seats; He, leaning on  
His ivory Sceptre, in a higher Throne,  
Did twice or thrice his dreadful Tresses shake:  
The Earth, the Sea, the Stars (though fixed) quake;  
Then thus, inflamed with indignation, spoke:  
I was not more perplexed in that sad Time,  
For this World's Monarchy, when bold to climb,  
The Serpent-footed Giants durst invade,  
And would on Heaven their hundred-hands have laid.  
Though fierce the Foe, yet did that War depend  
But of one Body, and had soon an end.  
Now all the race of man I must confound,  
Wherever Ner●us walks his wavy Round:  
And this I vow by those infernal Floods,  
Which slowly glide through silent Stygian woods.  
All cures first sought; such parts as health reject  
Must be cut off, lest they the sound infect.  
Our Demigods, Nymphs, Sylvans, Satyrs, Fauns,  
Who haunt clear Springs, high Mountains, Woods, and Lawns  
(On whom since yet we please not to bestow  
Celestial dwellings) must subsist below.  
Think you, you Gods, they can in safety rest,  
When me (of lightning, and of you possessed,  
Who both at our Imperial pleasure sway)  
The stern Lycaon practised to betray?  
All bluster, and in rage the wretch demand.  
So, when bold Treason sought, with impious hand,  
By Caesar's blood t'out-race the Roman name;  
Mankind, and all the World's affrighted Frame,  
Astonished at so great a ruin, shaken.  
Nor thine, for Thee, less thought, Augustus, took,  
Than they for jove. He, when he had suppressed  
Their murmur, thus proceeded to the rest.  
He hath his punishment; remit that care:  
The manner how, I will in brief declare▪  
The Times accused, (but as I hoped belied)  
To try, I down from steep Olympus slide.  
A God, transformed like one of humane birth,  
I wandered through the many-peopled Earth.  
'Twere long to tell, what crimes of every sort  
Swarmed in all parts: the truth exceeds report.  
Now past den-dreadfull Maenalus confines,  
Cyl●ene, cold Lycaeus clad with Pines,  
There where th' Arcadians dwell, when Doubtfull-light  
Drew on the dewy Chariot of the Night,  
I entered his unhospitable Court.  
The better Vulgar to their prayers resort,  
When I by signs had shown a God's repair.  
Lyca●n first derides their zealous prayer;  
Then said, We strait the undoubted truth will try,  
Whether he be immortal, or may die.  
In dead of night, when all was whist and still,  
Me, in my sleep, he purposeth to kill.  
Nor with so foul an enterprise content,  
An Hostage murders, from Molo●sus sent:  
Part of his severed scarce-dead limbs he boyles;  
An other part on hissing Embers broils;  
This set before me, I the house o'erturned  
With vengeful flames, which round about him burned.  
He, frighted, to the silent Desert flies;  
There howls, and speech with lost endeavour ●ries.  
His selfelike jaws still grin: more than for food  
He slaughters beasts, and yet delights in blood.  
His arms to thighs, his clothes to bristles changed;  
A Wolf; not much from his first form estranged:  
So hoary haired; his looks so full of rape;  
So fiery eyed; so terrible his shape.  
One house that fate, which all deserve, sustains:  
For, through the World the fierce Eri●●ys reigns.  
You'd think they had conspired to sinn●▪ But, all  
Shall swiftly by deserved vengeance fall.  
Jove's words apart approve, and his intent  
Exasperate: the rest give their consent.  
Yet all for Man's destruction grieved appear;  
And ask what form the widowed Earth shall bear?  
Who shall with odours their cold Altars feast:  
Must Earth be only by wild beasts possess?  
The King of God's re-comforts their despair;  
And biddeth them impose on him that care:  
Who promised, by a strange original  
Of better people, to supply their fall.  
And now about to let his lightning fly,  
He feared lest so much flame should catch the sky,  
And burn heaven's Axletree. Besides, by doom,  
Of certain Ea●e, he knew the time should come,  
When Sea, Earth, ravished Heaven, the curious Frames  
Of this World's mass, should shrink in purging flame.  
He therefore those Cyclopean darts rejects;  
And different-natured punishments elects:  
To open all the Floodgates of the sky,  
And Man by inundation to destroy.  
Rough Boreas in Aeollan prison laid,  
And those dry blasts which gathered Clouds invade;  
Out flies the South, with dropping wings; who shrouds  
His terrible aspect in pitchy clouds.  
His white hair streams, his swollen Beard big with showers;  
Mists bind his brows, Rain from his bosom pours.  
As with his hands the hanging clouds he crushed;  
They roared, and down in showers together rushed.  
All-coloured Iris, Juno's messenger,  
To weeping Clouds doth nourishment confer.  
The Corn is lodged, the Husbandmen despair;  
Their long years labour lost, with all their care.  
jove, not content with his aethereal rages.  
His Brother's auxiliaric floods engages.  
The Streams convented; 'Tis too late to use  
Much speech, said Neptune; all your powers effuse;  
Your doors unbarre, remove whatever restrains  
Your liberal Waves, and give them the full raynes.  
Thus charged, they return; their Springs, unfold;  
And to the Sea with headlong fury rolled.  
He with his Trident strikes the Earth: She shakes;  
And way for Water by her motion makes.  
Through open fields now rush the spreading Floods;  
And hurry with them cattle, People, Woods,  
Houses, and Temples with their Gods enclosed.  
What such a force, un-overthrowne, opposed,  
The higher-swelling Water quite devours;  
Which hides the aspiring tops of swallowed towers.  
Now Land and Sea no different visage bore:  
For, all was Sea, nor had the Sea a shore.  
He, takes a Hill: He, in a Boat deplores;  
And, where He lately ploughed, now strikes his Oars.  
O'er Corn, o'er drowned Villages He sails:  
He, from high Elms entangled Fishes hales.  
In Fields they anchor cast, as Chance did guide:  
And Ships the under-lying Vineyards hide.  
Where Mountayne-loving Goats did lately graze,  
The Sea-calf now his ugly body lays.  
Groves, Cities, Temples, covered by the Deep,  
The Nymphs admire, in woods the Delphins keep,  
And chase about the boughs; the Wolf doth swim  
Amongst the Sheep: the Lion (now not grim)  
And Tigers tread the Waves. Swift feet no more  
Avail the Hart; nor wounding tusks the Boar.  
The wand'ring Birds, hid Earth long sought in vain,  
With weary wings descend into the Main.  
Licentious Seas o'er drowned Hills now fret:  
And unknown surges Airy Mountains beat.  
The Waves the greater part devour: the rest,  
Death, with long-wanted sustenance, oppressed.  
The Land of Phocis, fruitful when a Land,  
Divides A●nia from th' Actaean strand;  
But now a part of the insulting Main,  
Of sudden-swelling waters a vast Plain,  
There, his two heads Parnassus doth extend  
To touched Stars; whose tops the Clouds transcend.  
On this Deucalion's little Boat was thrown:  
With him, his Wife; the rest all overflown.  
Corycian Nymphs, and Hill-gods he adores;  
And Themis, then oraculous, implores.  
None was there better, none more just than He:  
And none more reverenced the Gods than She.  
jove, when he saw that all a Lake was grown,  
And of so many thousand men but one;  
One, of so many thousand women, left;  
Both guiltless, pious both; of all bereft;  
The clouds (now chased by Boreas) from him throws:  
And Earth to Heaven, Heaven unto Earth he shows.  
Nor Seas persist to rage: their awful Guide  
The wild waves calms, his Trident laid aside;  
And calls blue Triton, riding on the Deep  
(Whoso mantle Nature did in purple steep)  
And bids him his lowd-sounding shell inspire,  
And give the Floods a signal to retire.  
He his wreathed trumpet takes (as given in charge)  
That from the turning bottom grows more large:  
To which when he gives breath, 'tis heard by all,  
From farre-uprising Phoebus to his Fall.  
When this the watery Deity had set  
To his large mouth, and sounded a retreat;  
All Floods it heard, that Earth or Ocean knew:  
And all the Floods, that heard the same, withdrew.  
Seas now have shores; full streams their channels keep:  
They sink, and hills above the waters peep.  
Earth reascends: as waves decrease, so grow  
The forms of things, and late-hid figures show.  
And after a long day, the trees extend  
Their bared tops; with mud their branches bend.  
The World's restored. Which when in such a state,  
So deadly silent, and so desolate,  
Deucalion saw: with tears which might have made  
An other Flood, he thus to Pyrrha said.  
O Sister! O my Wife! the poor Remaines  
Of all thy Sex; which all, in one, contains!  
Whom humane Nature, one paternal Line,  
Then one chaste Bed, and now like dangers join!  
Of what the Sun beholds from East to West,  
We two are all: the Sea entombs the rest.  
Nor yet can we of life be confident;  
The threatening clouds strange terrors still present.  
O what a heart wouldst thou have had, if Fate  
Had ta'en me from thee, and prolonged thy date!  
So wild a fear, such sorrows, so forlorn  
And comfortless, how couldst thou have borne!  
If Seas had sucked thee in, I would have followed  
My Wife in death, and Sea should me have swallowed.  
O would I could my Father's cunning use!  
And souls into well-moduled Clay infuse!  
Now, all our mortal Race we two contain;  
And but a pattern of Mankind remain.  
This said, both wept: both, prayers to heaven address;  
And seek the Oracle in their distress.  
Forthwith descending to Cephisus Flood,  
Which in known banks now ran, though thick with mud;  
They on their heads and garments water throw;  
And to the Temple of the Goddess go;  
At that time all defiled with moss and mire;  
The unfrequented Altar without fire.  
Then, humbly on their faces prostrate laid,  
And kissing the cold stones, with fear thus prayed.  
If Powers divine to just desires consent,  
And Angry Gods do in the end relent;  
Say, Themis, how shall we ou● Race repair?  
O, help the drowned in Water and Despair!  
The Goddess, with compassion moved replied;  
Go from my Temple: both your faces hide;  
Let Garments all unbraced loosely flow;  
And your Great-Parents bones behind you throw.  
Amazed! first Pyrrha silence breaks, and said;  
By me the Goddess must not be obeyed;  
And, trembling, pardon craves: Her Mother's ghost  
She fears would suffer, if her bones were tossed.  
Meanwhile they ponder and reiterate  
The words proceeding from ambiguous Fate.  
Then, Promethídes, Epimethida  
Thus recollecteth; lost in her dismay:  
Or we the Oracle misseunderstand  
(The righteous Gods no wicked thing command)  
Or Earth is our Great-Mother: and the stones,  
Therein contained, I take to be her bones.  
These, sure, are those we should behind us throw.  
Although Titania thought it might be so,  
Yet she misse-doubts. Both with weak faith rely  
On aiding Heaven. What hurt was it to try?  
Departing with heads veiled and clothes unbraced,  
Commanded stones they o'er their shoulders cast.  
Did not Antiquity avouch the same,  
Who would believe't! the stones less hard became.  
And as their natural hardness them forsook;  
So by degrees they Man's dimensions took;  
And gentler-natured grew, as they increased:  
And, yet not manifestly Man expressed;  
But, like rough hewed ' rude marble Statues stand,  
That want the Workman's last life-giving hand.  
The Earthy parts, and what had any juice,  
Were both converted to the body's use.  
The unflexible and solid, turn to bones:  
The veins remain, that were when they were stones.  
Those, thrown by Man, the for ome of men endue:  
And those were Women, which the Woman threw.  
Hence we, a hardy Race, inur'd to pain:  
Our Actions our Original explain.  
All other creatures took their numerous birth.  
And figures, from the voluntary Earth.  
When that old humour with the Sun did sweat,  
And slimy Marshes grew big with heat;  
The pregnant Seeds, as from their Mother's womb,  
From quickening Earth both growth and form assume.  
So, when seven chaneled Nile forsakes the Plain,  
When ancient bounds retiring streams contain,  
And late-left slime aethereal fervours burn,  
Men various creatures with the glebe upturne:  
Of those, some in their very time of birth;  
Some lame; and others half alive, half earth.  
For, Heat and Moisture, when they temperate grow,  
Forthwith conceive; and life on things bestow.  
From striving Fire and Water all proceed;  
Discording Concord ever apt to breed.  
So, Earth by that late Deluge muddy grown,  
When on her lap reflecting Titan shone,  
Produced a World of forms; restored the late;  
And other unknown Monsters did create.  
Huge Python, thee, against her will, she bred;  
A Serpent, whom the newborn People dread;  
Whose bulk did like a moving Mountain show.  
Behold! the God that bears the Silver Bow  
(Till then, inur'd to strike the flying Deer,  
Their happy Selves, and longs to taste their bliss:  
Admires her fingers, hands, her arms halfe-bare;  
And Parts unseen conceives to be more rare.  
Swifter than following Winds, away she runs;  
And him, for all this his entreaty, shuns.  
Stay Nymph, I pray thee stay; I am no Fo:  
So Lambs from Wolves, Hearts fly from Lions so;  
So from the Eagle springs the trembling Dove:  
They, from their deaths: but my pursuit is Love..  
Wo's me, if thou shouldst fall, or thorns should raze  
Thy tender legs, whilst I enforce the chase!  
These roughs are craggy: moderate thy haste,  
And trust me, I will not pursue so fast.  
Yet know, whoed is you please: No Mountanere,  
No homebred Clown; nor keep I cattle here.  
From whom thou fly●st thou knowst not (silly fool!)  
And therefore fliest thou. I in Delphos rule.  
Ionian Claros, Lycian Patara,  
And Sea-girt Tenedos do me obey.  
jove is my Father. What shall be, hath been,  
Or is; by my instructive rays is seen.  
Immortal Verse from our invention springs;  
And how to strike the well concording-strings.  
My shafts hit sure: yet He one surer found,  
Who in my empty bosom made this wound.  
Of herbs I found the virtue; and through all  
The World they Me the great Physician call.  
Ay me, that herbs can Love no cure afford!  
That Arts, relieving all, should fail their Lord!  
More had he said, when she, with nimble dread,  
From him, and his unfinished courtship fled.  
How graceful then! the Wind that obvious blue,  
Too much betrayed her to his amorous view;  
And played the Wanton with her fluent hair,  
Her Beauty, by her flight, appeared more rare.  
No more the God will his entreaties loose;  
But, urged by Love, with all his force pursues.  
As when a Hare the speedy Greyhound spies;  
His feet for prey, she hers for safety plies;  
Now bears he up; now, now he hopes to fetch her;  
And, with his snout extended, strains to catch her▪  
Not knowing whether caught or no, she slips.  
Out of his wide-stretcht jaws, and touching lips.  
The God and Virgin in such strife appear:  
He, quickened by his hope; She, by her fear,  
But, the Pursuer doth more nimble prove:  
Enabled by th' industrious wings of love.  
Nor gives he time to breathe: now at her heels,  
His breath upon her dangling hair she feels.  
Clean spent, and fainting, her affrighted blood  
Forsakes her cheeks. She cries unto the Flood.  
Help Father, if your streams contain a Powre▪  
May Earth, for too well pleasing, me devour:  
Or, by transforming, O destroy this shape,  
That thus betrays me to undoing rape.  
Forthwith, a numbness all her limbs possessed;  
And slender films her softer sides invest.  
Hair into leaves, her Arms to branches grow:  
And late swift feet, now roots, are less than slow.  
Her graceful head a levy top sustains:  
One beauty throughout all her form remains.  
Still Phoebus loves. He handles the new Plant;  
And feels her Heart within the bark to pant:  
Embraced the bowl, as he would her have done  
As ignorant of what she more than feared.  
jove feigns (her importunity to shift)  
Her born of Earth. Saturnia begs the gift.  
What should he do? be cruel to his Love;  
Or by denying her, suspicion move?  
Shame that persuades; and Love doth this dissuade▪  
But, stronger Love Shame under foot had laid;  
Yet doubts, if he should such a thing deny  
His Wife and Sister, 't would the fraud descry.  
Obtained; not forthwith fear the Goddess left;  
Distrusting jove, and jealous of his theft,  
Until delivered to Argus' guard.  
A hundred eyes his head's large circuit starred;  
Whereof, by turns, at once two only slept;  
The other watched, and still their Stations kept.  
Which way soever he stands, he jon spies:  
jon, behind him, was before his eyes.  
By day, she grazed abroad: Sol under ground,  
He housed her, in unworthy halter bound.  
On leaves of Tress, and bitter herbs she fed.  
Poor soul! the Earth, not always green, her bed;  
And of the Torrent drinks. With hands Vp-heaued  
She thought to beg for pity: how deceived!  
Who lowed, when she began to make her moan;  
And trembled at the voice which was her own.  
Unto the banks of Inachus she strayed;  
Her Father's banks, where she so oft had played:  
Beholding in his stream her horned head,  
She starts; and from herself, selfe-frighted, fled.  
Her Sisters, nor old Inachus, her knew:  
Which way soever they went, she would pursue,  
And suffer them to struck her; and doth move  
Their wonder with her strange expressed love.  
He brought her Grass: She gently licked his hands,  
And kissed his palms; nor, longer, tears withstands.  
And had she then had words, she had displayed  
Her Name, her Fortunes, and implored his aid.  
For words, she letters with her foot impressed  
Upon the Sand, which her sad change professed.  
Wo's me! cried Inachus: his arms he throws  
About her snowy Neck. O, woe of woes!  
Art thou my daughter, throughout all the Round  
Of Earth so sought; that now, unsought, art found!  
Less was thy loss: lesse was my misery.  
Dumb wretch (alas!) thou canst not make reply:  
Yet, as thou canst thou dost: thy lowings speak,  
And deop-fetcht sighs that from thy bosom break.  
ay, ignorant, prepared thy marriage bed:  
My hopes, a Son-in-law, and Nephews fed.  
Now, from the Herd, thy issue must descend:  
Nor can the length of time my sorrow's end;  
Accursed in that a God. Death's sweet relief  
Hard fates deny to my immortal grief.  
This said: his Daughter (in that shape beloved)  
The Star-eyed Argus far from thence removed;  
When, mounted on a hill, the wary Spy  
Surveys the Plains that round about him lie.  
The King of Gods those sorrows she endured:  
Could brook no longer, by his fault procured:  
But, calls his son, of fulgent Pleias bred;  
Commanding him to cut off Argus' head.  
He wings his heels, puts on his Felt, and takes  
His drowsy Rod; the Tower of jove forsakes;  
And, winding stoops to Earth. The changed God  
His Hat and Wings lays by; retains his Rod:  
With which he drives his Goats (like one that feeds  
The bearded Herd) and sings this slender Reeds.  
Much taken with that Art, before unknown,  
Come, sit by me, said Argus, on this stone.  
No place affordeth better Pastorage,  
Or shelter from the Sun's offensive rage.  
Pleased Atlantiades doth him obey;  
And with discourse protracts the speedy Day:  
Then, singing to his Pipes soft melody,  
Endeavours to subdue each wakeful eye.  
The Herdsman strives to conquer urgent sleep:  
Though seized on half, the other half do keep  
Observant watch. He asks who did invent  
(With that, he yawned) that late-found Instrument.  
Then, thus the God his charmed ears inclines:  
Amongst the Hamadryds and Nonacrines  
(On cold Arcadian Hills) for beauty famed,  
A Naias dwelled; the Nymphs, her Syrinx named.  
Who oft deceived the Satyrs that pursued,  
The rural Gods, and th●se whom woods include:  
In exercises, and in chaste desire,  
Diana like: and such in her attire.  
You either in each other might behold:  
Her Bow was Horn; Diana's was of Gold:  
Yet oft mistook. ●ar crowned with Pines, returning  
From steep Lyeaus, saw her; and, jove-burning,  
Thus said: Fair Virgin, grant a God's request;  
And be his Wife. She would not hear the rest;  
But fled from the despised as from her shame,  
Till to smooth ●adon's sandy banks she came▪  
There stopped; implores the liquid Sister's aid,  
To change her shape, and pity a forced Maid.  
●an, when he thought he had his Syrinx clasped  
Between his arms, Reeds for her body grasped.  
He sighs: they, stirred therewith, report again  
● mournful sound, like one that did complain.  
●apt with the music; Yet, O sweet (said he)  
Together ever thus converse will we.  
Then, of unequal wax-ioyned Reeds he framed  
This sevenfold Pipe: of her 'twas Syrinx named.  
The sly Cyllenius, thus discoursing, spies  
●ow leaden sleep had seal'd-vp all his eyes.  
Then, silent, with his Magic rod he strokes  
Their languished lights, which sounder sleep provokes,  
And with his Fawchion lops his nodding head:  
Whose blood besmeared the hoary Rock with red.  
●here lies he; of so many lights, the light  
●ut forth: his hundred eyes set in one night,  
●et, that those starry jewels might remain,  
●turnia fixed them in her Peacock's train.  
Inflam'd with anger, and impatient haste,  
Before sad ●ons eyes and thoughts she placed  
Erynnis Snakes, and through the World doth drive  
The conscience-stung affrighted Fugitive.  
Thou, Nile, to her long toil an end didst yield.  
Approaching thee, she on thy margin kneeled;  
Her looks (such as she had) to heaven up-throwes:  
With tears, sighs, sounds (expressing worldlesse woes)  
●hee seemed jove t' accuse, as too ingrate,  
And to implore an end of her hard fate.  
●e eclipse his Wife; and her entreats to free  
●he unjustly plagued. Be confident (said he)  
●hee never more shall cause thy grief, or fear:  
His vow he bids the Stygian Waters hear.  
Appeased; the Nymph recovered her first look;  
Sofaire, so sweet! the hair her skin forsook:  
Her horns decrease: large eyes, wide jaws, contract:  
Shoulders and hands again become exact:  
Her hoofs to nails diminish: nothing now  
But that pure White, retains she of the Cow.  
Then, on her feet her body she erects  
Now borne by two. Herself she yet suspects;  
Nor dares to speak aloud, lest she should hear  
Herself to low; but softly tries with fear.  
Now, thee, a Goddess, is adored by those  
That linen wear, where sacred Nilus flows.  
Hence sprung Jove's Epaphus, no less divine;  
Whose Temples next unto his Mother's ioyne.  
Equal in years, nor equal spirit wants  
The Sunne-got Phacton: who proudly vaunts  
Of his high Parentatge; nor will give place.  
Inachides puts on him this disgrace:  
Fool, thou thy Mother trusts in things unknown;  
And of a Father boasts that's not thy own.  
Vexed Phaethon blushed: his shame his rage repels:  
Who strait to Clymene the slander tells:  
And Mother, said he, to your griefs increase;  
I free, and late so fiery, held my peace;  
Ashamed that such a tainture should be laid  
Upon my blood, that could not be gaynsaid.  
But, if I be descended from above;  
Give proof thereof, and this reproach remove.  
Then hangs about her neck: by her own Head,  
By Merope's, her Sister's nuptial bed,  
Inn eats her to produce some certain gage,  
That might assure his questioned parentage.  
Moved with her son's entreaty, more inflamed  
With indignation to be so defamed,  
She casts her arms to heaven: and looking on  
His radiant Orb, thus said: I swear my son,  
By yo● fair Taper, that so bright appears  
With far-proiected beams; who sees, and hears:  
That Sun whom thou beholdest, who light and hear  
Affords the informed World, did thee beget.  
If not, may he to me deny his sight:  
And to my eyes let this be his last light.  
Nor far-removed doth his Palace stand;  
His first-uprise confines upon our Land:  
If that thy heart do serve thee, thither go;  
And there thy Father, of thy Father, know.  
Hereat, joyed Phacton enlightened grew;  
Whose towering thoughts no less than Heaven pursue.  
His Aethiopia past, and Ind which fries  
With burning beams, he climbs the Sun's uprise.   

OVID'S METRAMORPHOSIS. The second Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
RAsh Phaeton fires the World His sisters mourn  
Hu Tragedy; who into Poplars turn;  
Their tears to Amber; Cygnus, to a Swan.  
jove, Phoebe-like, Calisto found a Man.  
Her, juno made a Bear: She, and her son,  
Advanced stars, that still the Ocean shun.  
Coronis, now a Crow, sties Neptune's fright,  
Nictiminè is made the Bird of Night.  
The too-officious Raven, late so fair,  
Is plumed with black. Ocyroë grows a Mare.  
Phoebus, a Herdsman: Mercury, twice such;  
Who turns betraying Battus into Tuch.  
Envious A glauros, to a Statue, full  
Of her mind's spots. Love jove converts t' a 〈◊〉.  
SOl's lofty Palace on high Pillars raised,  
Shone all with gold, and stones that flame-like blaaes '  
The roof of ivory, divinely decked:  
The two-leaued siluer-doores bright rays project.  
The workmanship more admiration craved:  
For, curious Musciber had there engraved  
The Land-imbracing Sea, the orbed Ground,  
The arched Heavens. Blue Gods the billows crowned;  
Shape-changing P●oteus, Triton shrill; the tall  
Big-brawned Aegeon mounted on a Whale.  
Grace Doris, and her daughters, heavenly-faire:  
Some sit on Rocks, and dry their Seagreen hair;  
Some seem upon the dancing Waves to glide;  
Others on bac●s of crooked ●ishes ride:  
Amongst them all, no two appear the same;  
Nor de●●e, more than sisters well became.  
The Earth had savage Beasts, Men, Cities, Woods,  
Nymphs, Satyrs, rural Gods, and crystal Floods:  
Above all these, heaven's radiant image shines,  
On both sides decked with six refulgent Signs.  
To this, bold Phaethon made his ascent;  
And to his doubted Father's presence bend;  
Yet forced to stand aloof: for, mortal sight  
Could not induret ' approach so pure a light.  
Sol clothed in purple, sits upon a Throne,  
Which clearly with tralucent Emeralds shone.  
With equall-raigning Hours, on either hand,  
The Days, the Months, the Years, the Ages stand:  
The fragrant Spring with flowery chaplet crowned:  
Wheat ears, the brows of naked Summer bound:  
Rich A●●●●mn smeared with crushed Lyaeus' blood;  
New, h●●y-headed Winter quivering stood.  
Much daunted at these sacred novelties,  
The fear ●full Youth allseeing Phoebus, spies;  
Who said, What hither drew thee Phaeton,  
Who art, and wo● thily, my dearest Son?  
He thus replied: O thou refulgent t Light,  
Who all the World teioyeest with thy sight!  
O Father if allowed to use that name,  
Nor C●ymens by thee disguise her shame;  
Produce some sign, that may my birth approve,  
And from my thoughts these wretched doubts remove.  
He, from his brows, his shining rays displaced;  
And, bidding him draw-neere, his neck embraced.  
By merit, as by birth, to thee is due  
That name, said he; and Clymene was true.  
To clear all doubts; ask what thou wilt, and take  
Thy granted wish. Bear witness thou dark Lake,  
The oath of Gods, unto our eyes unknown.  
These words no sooner from his lips were flown,  
But he demands his Chariot, and the sway  
Of his hot Steeds, to guide the winged Day.  
The God reputes him of the oath he made;  
And, shaking his illustrious Tresses, said:  
Thy tongue hath made mine err, thy birth unblessed.  
O, would I could break promise! this request,  
I must confess, I only would deny:  
And yet, dissuade I may. Thy death doth lie  
Within thy wish. What's so desired by thee,  
Can neither with thy strength nor youth agree.  
Too great intentions set thy thoughts on fire.  
Thou, mortal, dost no mortal thing desire;  
Through ignorance, affecting more than they  
Dare undertake, who in Olympus' sway.  
Though each himself approve; except me, none  
Is able to supply my burning Throne.  
Not that dread Thunderer, who rules above,  
Can drive these wheels: and who more great than jove?  
Steep is the first ascent; which in the prime  
Of springing Day, fresh Horses hardly climb.  
At Noon, through highest skies their course they bear:  
Whence Sea and Land even We behold with fear.  
Then down the Hill of Heaven they scour amain  
With desperate speed, and need a steady reign;  
That Thetis, in whose wavy bowers I lie,  
Each evening dreads my down-fall from the sky.  
Besides; the Heavens are daily hurried round,  
That 〈◊〉 the Statres, to other motions bound.  
Against this violence, my way I force,  
And counter-run their all- 〈◊〉- bearing course.  
My Chariot had: can thy sraile strength ascend  
The obvious Poles, and with their force contend?  
No G●oues, no Cities, fraught with Gods, expect;  
N●● maeble Fanes, with wealthy offerings decked.  
Through savage shapes, and dangers lies thy way:  
Which couldst thou keep, and by no error stray,  
Between the Bull's sharp horns yet must thou go;  
By him that draws the strong Aemonian bow;  
The deathful Scorpion's far-out-bending claws;  
The shorter Crab's; the roaring Lion's jaws.  
Nor easy is't those fiery Steeds to tame:  
Who from their mouths and nostrils vomit flame.  
They, heated, hardly of my rule admit;  
But, headstrong, struggle with the hated bit.  
Then, lest my bounty, which would save, should kill,  
Beware, and whilst, thou mayst, reform thy will.  
A sign thou crav'st, that might confirm thee mine:  
I, by dehorting, give a certain sign;  
Approved a Father, by Paternal fear:  
Book on my looks, and read my sorrows there.  
O, would thou couldst descend into my breast;  
And apprechend my vexed Souls unrest!  
And lastly, all the wealthy World behold,  
Of all that Heaven enrich, rich seas enfold,  
Or on the pregnant-bosomed Earth remain,  
Ask what thou wilt; and no repulse sustain.  
To this alone, I give a forced consent:  
No honour, but a true-named punishment.  
Thou, for a blessing, beg'st the worst of harms.  
Why hangest thou on my neck with fawning arms?  
Distrust not; we have sworn: but ask, and take  
What thou canst wish: yet, wiser wishes make.  
In vain dehorted; he, his promise claimed;  
With glory of so great a charge inflamed.  
The wilful Youth then lingering Phoebus brought  
To his bright Chariot, by Vulcan wrought.  
The Beam and Axletree of massy gold;  
On Silver Spokes the golden Fellies rolled:  
Rich Gems and Crysolites the Harness decked;  
Which, Phoebus beams, with equal light, reflect,  
Whilst this, admiring Phaethon surveys,  
The wakeful Morning from the East displays  
Her purple doors, and odoriferous bed,  
With plenty of deaw-dropping Roses spread.  
Clear Luciser the flying Stars doth chase;  
And, after all the rest, resigns his place.  
When Titan saw the Dawning ruddy grew,  
And how the Moon her silver horns withdrew:  
He bade the lightfoot Hours, without delay  
To join his Steeds. The Goddesses obey:  
Who, from their lofty Mangers, forthwith led  
His fiery Horses, with Ambrosou fed.  
With sacred Oil anointed by his Sire,  
Of virtue to repulse the rage of fire,  
He crown's him with his Rays; Then, thus began  
With doubled sighs, which following woes fore-tan.  
Let not thy Father still advice in vain.  
Son, spare the whip, and strongly use the reign.  
They, of their own accord will run too fast.  
'Tis hard, to moderate a flying haste.  
Nor drive along the five director Lines.  
A broad and beaten path obliquely winds,  
Contented with three Zones: which doth avoid  
The distant Poles: the tract thy wheels will guide.  
Descend thou not too low, nor mount too high;  
That temperate warmth may heaven and earth supply.  
A lofty course will heaven with fire infest;  
A lowly, earth: the safer Mean is best.  
Nor to the folded Snake thy Chariot guide:  
Nor to the Altar on the other side:  
Between these drive. The rest I leave to Fate;  
Who better prove, than thou, to thy own state.  
But, while I speak, behold, the humid Night  
Beyond th' Hesperian Vales hath ta'en her flight.  
Aurora's splendour re-inthrone's the Day:  
We are expected, nor can longer stay.  
Take up the reigns, or, while thou mayst, refuse;  
And no● my Chariot, but my counsel use;  
While on a firm foundation thou dost stand,  
Not yet postest of thy ill-wisht Command.  
Let me the World with usual influence cheer:  
And view that light which is unsafe to bear.  
The generous and gallant Pha●ton,  
All courage, vaut's into the blazing Throne:  
Glad of the reigns, nor doubtful of his skill;  
And gives his Father thanks against his will.  
Mean while, the Sun's swift Horses, hot Pyronus,  
Strong Aethon, fiery Phlego●, bright E●us,  
Neighing aloud, inflame the Air with heat;  
And, with their thundering hoofs, the barriers beat.  
Which when hospitious Thetis once withdrew,  
(Who nothing of her Nephew's danger knew)  
And gave them scope; they mount the ample sky,  
And cut the obvious Clouds with feet that fly.  
Who, raised with plumed pinions, leave behind  
The glowing East, and slower Easterne-winde.  
But, Phoebus' Horses could not feel that freight:  
The Chariot wanted the accustomed weight.  
And as vnballaced ships are rocked and tossed  
With tumbling Waves, and in their steerage lost:  
So, through the Air the lighter Chariot reels;  
And jolts, as empty, upon iumping Wheels.  
Which when they found, the beaten path they shun;  
And, straggling, out of all subjection run.  
He knows not how to turn, nor knows the way;  
Or had he known, yet would not they obey.  
The cold, now hot, Triones sought in vain  
To quench their heat in the forbidden Maine.  
The Serpent, next unto the frozen Pole,  
Benumbed, and hurtless, now began to roll  
With actual heat; and long forgotten ire  
Resumes, together with aethereal fire.  
'Tis said, that thou Bo●tes ranst away,  
Though slow, though thee thy heavy Wain did stay.  
But, when from top of all the arched sky,  
Unhappy Pha●ton the Earth did eye:  
Pale sudden fear un-nerves his quaking thighs;  
And, in so great a light, benights his eyes.  
He wished those Steeds unknown; unknown his birth;  
His suit ungranted: now he covets earth;  
To be the son of scorned Merope.  
Rapt as a ship upon the high-wrought Sea,  
By savage tempests chased; which in despair  
The Pilot leaveth to the Gods, and Prayer.  
What should he do? much of the heaven behind;  
Much more before: both measured in his mind.  
The never-to-be entered West suruay's;  
And then the East. Lost in his own amaze,  
And ignorance, he can nor hold the reigns,  
Nor let them go; nor knows his Horse's names:  
But stairs on terror-striking skies (possessed  
By Beasts and Monsters) with a panting breast.  
There is a place, in which the Scorpion bends  
His compassed claws; who through two Signs extends.  
Whom▪ when the Youth beheld, stewed in black sweat  
Of poison, and with turn'd-vp tail to threat  
A mortal wound; pale fear his senses struck,  
And slackened reigns let's fall, from hands that shook.  
They, when they felt them on their backs to lie,  
With un-controlled error scour the sky  
Through unknown airy Regions; and tread  
The way which their disordered fury led.  
Up to the fixed Stars their course they take;  
And stranger Spheres with smoking Chariot rake:  
Now clime● now, by sleep Praecipies descend:  
And near Earth their wand'ring race extend.  
To 〈…〉 brother's Steeds beneath her own  
The Moon admires! the Clouds like Comets shone.  
Invading fire the upper Earth assayl●d;  
All chapt and coned; her pregnant juice exhaled.  
Trees seed there ruin: Grass, gray-headed turns:  
And 〈◊〉, by that which did produce it, burns.  
But this was nothing. Cities with their Towers,  
Realms with their People, funeral fire devours.  
The Mountains' blaze: High Athos, but too high;  
Fount-fruitfull Ida, never till then dry;  
Oete, old ●molus, and Cilician Taurus'  
Muse-haunted A●licon, Oeàgrian Aemus.  
Loud Eetna roareth with her doubled fires:  
Parnassus groans beneath two flaming spires.  
Steep Othrys, Cynthus, Eryx, Mimas, glow;  
And Rhodope, no longer clothed with snow.  
The Phrygian Dindyma, in cinders mourns:  
Cold Caucasus in frosty Scythia burns.  
High Mycale, divine Cithaeron, waist;  
Pindus, and Ossa once on Pelion cast,  
More great Olympus (which before did shine)  
The airy Alps, and cloudy Apennine.  
Then Phaeton beheld on every side  
The World on fire, nor could such heat abide;  
And, at his deadly-drie and gasping jaws,  
The scalding Air, as from a furnace, draws;  
His Chariot, redder than the fire it bore;  
And, being mortal, could endure no more  
Such clouds of ashes, and ejected coals.  
Muffled in smoke which round about him rowles,  
He knows not where he is, nor what succeeds;  
Dragged at the pleasure of his frantic Steeds.  
Men say, the AEthiopians then grew swart;  
Their blood exhaled to the outward part.  
A sandy Desert Lybia then became,  
Her full veins emptied by the thirsty flame.  
With hair vnbound and torn, the Nymphs, distraught,  
Bewail their Springs▪ Boe●tia Dirce sought;  
Argos, ●●ymone: Ephyre, fair  
Pirene missed: Nor streams securer are.  
Great Tanais in boiling channel fumes;  
T●uthr aman Cayeus with heat consumes;  
Ismenus, old, ●eneus, Erymanthus,  
Yellow Lycorn ●as; to be twice-burnt, Xanthus.  
Moeand●r, running in a turning maze,  
Mygdonian Melas, and Euro●as blaze,  
Euphrates, late investing Babylon;  
Orontes, Phasis, Ister, Thermodon,  
Ganges, Alp●●●s, Sperchius' lately could,  
And Tagus flowing with dissolved gold.  
The Swans, that ravished with their melody  
〈◊〉 banks, now in Cayster frie.  
To farthest Earth affrighted Nilus fled;  
And there concealed his yet unfound-out head,  
Whilst his seven dusty channels streamlesse lie.  
Ismarian Hebrus, Strymon now are dry.  
Hesperian streams, Rhine, Rhodanus, the Po,  
And Sceptre destinated Tiber glow.  
Earth cracks: to Hell the hated light descends;  
And frighted Pluto, with his Queen, offends.  
The Ocean shrinks, and leaves a field of Sand;  
Where new discovered Rocks, and Mountains stand,  
That multiply the scattered Cycladeses,  
Late covered with the deep and awful Seas,  
The Fishes to the bottom dive: nor dare  
The sportlesse Dolphins tempt the sultry Air.  
Long boyl●d alive, the monstrous ●hocae die,  
And on the brine with turn ' d-up bellies lie.  
With 〈◊〉 and her daughters, Ner●us raves;  
Who hide themselves beneath the scalding waves.  
Thrice wrathful Neptune his bold arm up-held  
Above the Floods: whom thrice the fire repelled.  
Yet foodfull Tellus with the Ocean bound,  
Amidst the Seas, and Fountains now unfound  
(Selfe-hid within the womb where they were bred)  
Neck-high advanceth her all-bearing head.  
(Her parched forehead shadowed with her hand)  
And, shaking, shook whatever on her stand:  
Wherewith, a little shrunk into her breast,  
Her sacred tongue her sorrows thus expressed:  
If such thy will, and I deserve the same,  
Thou chief of Gods, why sleeps thy vengeful flame?  
Be't by Thy fire, if I in fire must fry:  
The Author lessens the calamity.  
But, whilst I strive to utter this, I choke.  
View my singed hair, mine eyes half-out with smoke!  
The sparkling cinders on my visage thrown!  
Is this my recompense? the favour shown  
For all my service? for the fruit I have borne?  
That thus I am with plough and harrows torn?  
Wroughtout throughout the year? that man and beast  
Sustain with food? and you with incense feast?  
But, say I merit ruin, and thy hate:  
What hath thy brother done (by equal Fate  
Elected to the wavy Monarchy),  
That Seas should sink, and from thy presence fly?  
If neither he, nor I thy pity move,  
Pity thy Heaven. Behold! the Poles above  
At either end do fume: and should they burn,  
Thy habitation would to ruin turn.  
Distressed Atlas shoulders shrink with pain,  
And scarce the glowing Axletree sustain.  
If Sea, if Earth, if Heaven shall fall by fire,  
Then all of us to Chaos must retire.  
O! quench these flames: the miserable state  
Of things relieve, afore it be too-late.  
This said, her voice her parched tongue forsaken,  
Nor longer could the smothering vapours brook;  
But, down into herself withdrew her head,  
near to the infernal Caverns of the Dead.  
jove calls the Gods to witness, and who lent  
The straining Chariot; should not he prevent,  
That All would perish by one destiny;  
Then mounts the highest Turret of the sky,  
From thence inur'd to cloud the spacefull Earth,  
And give the flame forerunning thunder birth.  
But, there, for wasted clouds he sought in vain,  
To shade or cool the scorched Earth with rain.  
He thunders; and, with hands that cannot err,  
Hurls lightning at the audacious Charioteer.  
Him struck he from his seat, breath from his breast,  
Both at one blow, and flames with flames suppressed.  
The frighted horses, plunging several ways,  
Break all their tire: to whom the bit obeys;  
The reigns, torn beam, cracked spokes, dispersed abroad,  
Scotched Heaven was with the Chariot's ruins strowed.  
But, soulless ●ha●ton, with blazing hair,  
Shot headlong through a long descent of Air;  
As when a falling star glides through the sky,  
Of seems to fall to the deceived eye.  
Whom great Eridanus (far from his place  
Of birth) received, and quenched his flagrant face:  
Whose Nymphs interred him in his Mother's womb;  
And fixed this Epitaph upon his Tomb▪  
Here Pha●ton lies: who though he could not guide  
His Father's Steeds, in high attempts he died.  
Phoebus' with grief withdrew. One day did run  
About the World, they say, without the Sun,  
Which flamie funerals illuminate;  
That good, derived from a wretched Fate.  
When 〈◊〉 had said what could be said  
In such a grief; halfe-souled, in black arrayed,  
She fills the Earth she wanders through, with groans,  
First seeking his dead corpse, and then his bones.  
Interred in foreign Lands she found the last:  
Her feeble-lims upon the place she cast,  
And bathed his name in tears, and strictly pressed  
The carved Marble with her bared breast.  
Nor less th' H●liades lament; who shed  
From drowned eyes vain offerings to the dead:  
Who with remorseless hands their bosoms tear;  
And wailing, call on him that cannot hear.  
With joined horns four Moons their orbs had filled,  
Since they their customary plaints upheld:  
When Pha●t●usa, thinking to have cast  
Herself on Earth, cried, ah! my feet stick fast!  
Lamp●tie, pressing to her sister's aid,  
As suddenly with fixed roots was stayed.  
A third, about t'have torn her scattered hair,  
Tore-off the leaves which on her crown the bare.  
This, grieveth at her stiff and senseless thighs:  
She, that her stretcht-out arms in branches rise.  
And whilst with wonder they themselves behold,  
The creeping bark their tender parts enfold;  
Then, by degrees, their bellies, breasts, and all  
Except their mouths; which on their mother call.  
What should she do? but run to that, to this,  
As fury drove; and snatch a parting kiss?  
But yet, not so sufficed, she strove to take  
Them, from themselves, and down the branches broke:  
From whence, as from a wound, pure blood did glide.  
O pity, Mother! (still the wounded cried)  
Nor 〈◊〉 us in our Trees! O! now adieu!  
With that, the bark their lips together drew.  
From these clear dropping trees, tears yearly ●low:  
They, hardened by the Sun, to Amber grow;  
Which, on the moysture-giving River spent,  
To Roman Ladies, as his gift, is sent.  
Sthen●●an Cygnus at that time was there,  
Akin to Phaethon; in love, more near.  
He, leaving State (who in Liguria reigned,  
Which Cities great and populous contained)  
Filled with complaints the River-chiding floods,  
The sedgy banks, and late augmented Woods.  
At length, his voice grew small: white plume contends  
In whiteness with his hair: his neck ascends.  
Red films unite his toes: arms turn to wings:  
His mouth, a flat blunt bill, that sadly sings.  
Beco●●e a Swan, remembering how unjust  
〈◊〉 lightning was, nor Heaven, nor him will trust.  
Whom Lakes and Ponds (detesting fire) delight;  
And ●lo●ds, to Flames in nature opposite.  
The woeful Father to dead Pha●ton,  
Him 〈◊〉 neglecting (all his lustre gone,  
As when eclipsed) day, light, his own life hates;  
And 〈◊〉 grief, with anger aggravates.  
Ret●●ing to illuminate the Earth.  
●●ough, too much my toil! born with the birth  
Of Time; (as restless;) without end, regard,  
Or honour: recompensed with this reward!  
Some other now may on my Chariot sit.  
If all of you confess yourselves unfit;  
Let ●oue ascend: that he (when he shall try)  
At length may lay his murdering thunder by.  
Then will ●e find, that he, who could not guide  
Those fire-hooued Steeds, deserved not to have died.  
The Gods stand round about him, and request  
That endless Night might not the World invest.  
Even ●oue excused his lightning, and entreats:  
Which, like a King, he intermixed with threats.  
Displeased Phoeb●●, hardly reconciled,  
Takes-up his Steeds, as yet with horror wild.  
On whom he vents his spleen: and, though they run,  
He ●ashes, and upbraids them with his Son.  
The Thunderer than walks the ample Round  
Of Heaven's high walls, to search if all were sound.  
When finding nothing there by fire decayed;  
He Earth, and humane industries surveyed.  
Arcadia chiefly exercised his cares;  
There, Springs and streams, that durst not run, repaires;  
The Fields with grass, the Trees with leaves indue's,  
And withered Woods with vanished Shades renews.  
Oft passing to and fro, a Nonacrine  
The God inflamed; her beauty, more divine!  
'Twas not her Art to spin, nor with much care  
And fine variety to trick her hair;  
But, with a zone, her loser garments bound,  
And her rude tresses in a fillet wound:  
Now armed with a Dart, now with a Bow:  
A Squire of Phoebe's. Moenalus did know  
None more in grace, of all her Virgin throng:  
But, Favourites in fouo● last not long.  
The parted Day in equal balance held,  
A Wood she entered, as yet never field.  
There from her shoulders she her Quiver takes,  
Vnbends her Bow; and, tired with hunting, makes  
The flowry-mantled Earth her happy bed;  
And on her painted Quiver lays her head.  
When jove the Nymph without a guard did see  
In such a positure; This stealth, said he,  
My Wife shall never know: or, say she did;  
Who, ah, who would not for her sake be chid!  
Dia●a's shape and habit them endued,  
He said; My Huntress, where hast thou pursewed  
This morning's chase? She, rising, made reply;  
Harle Power, more great than jove (though jove stood by)  
In my esteem— He smiled: and gladly heard  
Himself, by her, before Himself preferred;  
And kissed. His kisses too intemperate grow;  
Not such as Maids on Maidens do bestow.  
His strict embracements her narration stayed;  
And, by his crime, his own deceit betrayed.  
She did what Woman could to force her Fate:  
(Would 〈◊〉 saw! it would her spleen abate)  
Although, as much as Woman could, she strove;  
What Woman, or, who can contend with jove!  
The Victor hies him to th'ethereal States.  
The Woods, as guilty of her wrongs, she hates;  
Almost forgetting, as from thence she flung,  
Her Quiver, and the Bow which by it hung.  
High 〈…〉 with her train  
Now en●ing, pleased with the quarry slain,  
Beheld, and called her: called upon, she fled;  
And in her semblance jupiter doth dread.  
But, when she saw the attending Nymphs appear;  
She troops amongst them, and diverts her fear.  
Ah, how our faults are in our faces read!  
With eyes scarce ever raised, she hangs the head:  
Nor perks she now, as she was wont to do,  
By Cynthia's side, nor leads the starry crew.  
Though mute she be, her violated shame  
Selfe-guiltie blushes silently proclaim.  
But that a Maid, Diana the ill hid  
Had soon espied: they say, her fly Nymphs did.  
Nine Crescents now had made their Orbs complete;  
When, faint with labour, and her brother's heat,  
She takes the shades; close by the murmuring  
And silver current of a fruitful Spring.  
The place much praised the stream as cool as clear  
Her fair feet glads. No Spies, said she, be here:  
Here will we our disrobed bodies dip.  
Calisto blushed: the rest their fair limbs strip.  
And her perforce unclothed, that sought delays;  
Who, with her body, her offence displays.  
They, all abashed, yet loath to have it spied,  
Striving her belly with their hands to hide;  
Avaunt, said Cynthia; get thee from our train;  
Nor, with thy limbs, this sacred Fountain stain.  
This knew the Matron of the Thunderer;  
Whose thoughts, to fitter times, revenge defer:  
Nor long delay's's; for, Arcas (which more scorn  
And grief provoked) was of the Lady borne.  
Beheld with ire, which turned her eyes to flame;  
Must thou be fruitful too, to blaze my shame,  
From thence, those stars, the price of whoredom, drive;  
Nor let th'impure in your pure Surges dive.  
They both assent. Her Peacocks to the skies  
Their Goddess draw; late stuck with Argus eyes.  
Thou too, thou prating Raven, turned as late  
From white to black, by well-deserued Fate.  
(The spotless silver ●oue was not more white,  
Nor Swans which in the running brooks delight:  
Nor yet that vigilant Fowl, whose gaggling shall  
Her e after free th'attempted Capitol.)  
Thy tongue, thy tell-tale tongue did thee undo:  
And what was white, is now of sable hue.  
The Palm, Coronis, of Lariss●, bare  
From all th' Aemonian Dames for matchless fair.  
Who dearly, Delphian, was beloved by thee;  
As long as chaste, or from detection free.  
But, Phoebus' Bird her 'scapes did soon descry:  
Nor could they charm th'inexorable Spy:  
Whom, flying to his Lord, the Crow pursewes  
(As talkative as he) to know the news;  
And, knowing, said: Thyself thou dost engage  
By thankless service: slight not my pr●sage.  
Know what I was, and am: through all my time  
My actions sift: thou'lt find my faith my crime.  
For, Pallas, on a day, in chest composed  
Of At●ick Osiers, privately enclosed  
Her Erichtho●us (whom no Woman bare)  
Committed to the custody and care  
Of three fair Virgin Nymphs, that daughters were  
To prudent Cecrops, who two shapes did bear:  
Nor told what it contained; but, charged that they  
Her secrets should not to themselves betray.  
These from an Elm I (vnespyed) espy.  
Fair Hearse and Pandrosa faithfully  
Perform their charge. Aglauros' then did call  
Her fearful sisters, and untyes withal  
The wicker Cabinet; whose twigs contain  
An infant, raised on a Dragon's train.  
This, I may Goddess told; and for reward,  
Am now cashiered from Minerua's Guard,  
The Bird of Night preferred. Beware by me:  
Nor too officiously tell all you see.  
Perhaps, you think, I to that place aspired  
Without her grace: unsought-to, or desired:  
Should you ask Pallas, and her anger by;  
Though more than angry, this she would deny.  
Me had King Coron●us, great in fame.  
Through happy Phocis, by a royal Dame.  
Rich suitors I (despise me not) had store:  
My beauty wracked me. Walking on the shore,  
As leisurely as now I use to go,  
Cold Neptune saw me, and with lust did glow.  
The time, his prayer's and praises spent in vain;  
What would not yield, he offers to constrain;  
And follows me that fled. The harder strand  
Behind me left: and tired with yielding sand,  
To Gods and Men I cry. No humane aid  
Was then at hand: a Maid relieves a Maid.  
For, as to heaven my trembling arms I threw;  
My arms coal-black with hover feathers grew.  
My Robe I from my shoulders thought to throw:  
But, that was plume, and to my skin did grow.  
With hands to beat my naked breast, I try:  
But, neither breast to beat, nor hands, had I.  
Running, in sand I sunk not as before;  
But, me the scarce-toucht Earth, unburdened bore.  
Forthwith, I lightly through the Air ascend;  
And on Minerva, without blame, attend.  
But, what was this; when she, whose wicked deeds  
Vnwomaned her, in our lost grace succeeds?  
For, know (no more than through all Lesbos spread)  
Nyctimene defiled her Father's bed.  
Though now a Bird; yet, full of guilt, the sight,  
The Day, she shuns, and masks her shame in Night.  
About her, all our winged troops repair;  
And, with invectives, chase her through the Air.  
To her, the Raven: Mischief thee surprise  
For staying me. Vain Omen's I despise;  
Then, forward flew; and told the hurtful truth  
Of lost Coronis, and th' Aemonian Youth.  
The Harp drops from his hand: and from his head  
The Laurel fell: his cheerful colour fled.  
Transported with his rage, his bow he took,  
And with incuitable arrow struck  
That breast, which he so oft to his had joined:  
She shrieks; and from the deadly wound doth wind  
The biting steel, pursued with streams of blood,  
That bathed her pure white in a crimson Flood:  
And said; Though this be dew, yet Phoebus, I  
Might first have teemed: now, two in one must die▪  
She faints: forced life in her blood's torrent swims:  
And stifning cold benumbs her senseless limbs.  
His cruelty, to her he loved, too late,  
He now repenteth, and himself doth hate,  
Who lent an ear, whom rage could so incense:  
He hates his Bird, by whom he knew th'offence;  
He hates his Art, his Quiver, and his Bow;  
Then, takes her up, and all his skill doth show.  
But (ah!) too late to vanquish Fate he tries;  
And surgery, without success, applies.  
Which when he saw, and saw the funeral pile  
Prepared to devour so dear a spoil;  
Since no celestial eye may shed a tear,  
He fetched a groan, that made Earth groan to hear:  
And now vncar'd-for odours poured upon her;  
And undue death with all due rites doth honour.  
But, Phoebus, not enduring that his seed  
(And that by her) the greedy Fire should feed,  
Snatched it both from her womb, and from the flame;  
And to the two-shaped Chiron brought the same.  
The white-plumed Raven, who reward expects,  
He turns to black; and for his truth rejects.  
It pleased the Halfe-horse to be so employed;  
Who in his honourable trouble joyed.  
Behold: the Centaur's daughter with red hair,  
Whom formerly the Nymph Caricle bare  
By the swift River, and Ocy●oe named;  
Who had her Father's healthful Art disclaimed,  
To sing the depth of Fates: Now, when her breast  
Was by the prophesying rage possessed,  
And that th'included God inflamed her mind;  
Beholding of the Babe, she thus divined:  
Health giver to the World, grow Infant, grow;  
To whom mortality so much shall owe.  
●led Souls thou shalt restore to their abodes;  
●nd once against the pleasure of the Gods.  
●o do the like, thy Grandsires' flames deny:  
●nd thou, begotten by a God, must die.  
Thou, of a bloodless corpse, a God shalt be:  
And Nature twice shall be renewed in thee.  
And you, dear Father, not a Mortal now;  
To whom the Fates eternity allow;  
Shall wish to die, then when your wound shall smart  
With Serpent's blood, and slight your helpless Art.  
Relenting Fates will pity you with death,  
Against their Law, and stop your groaning breath.  
Not all yet said, her sighs in storms arise;  
And ill-aboding tears burst from her eyes.  
Then, thus: My Fates prevent me: lo, they tie  
My faltering tongue; and farther speech deny.  
Alas! these Arts not of that value be,  
That they should draw the wrath of Heaven on me!  
O, rather would I nothing had foreknown!  
My looks seem now not humane, nor my own.  
I long to feed on grass: I long to run  
About the spacious fields. Woe's me, undone!  
Into a Mare (my kindred's shape) I grow:  
Yet, why throughout? my Father but half so.  
The end of her complaint you scarce could hear  
To understand: her words confused were.  
Forthwith, nor words, nor neighings, she expressed;  
Her voice yet more inclining to the beast:  
Then, neighed outright. Within a little space,  
Her down-thrust arms upon the Meadow pace.  
Her fingers ●oyne▪ one hose five nails unite:  
Her head and neck enlarge, not now upright:  
Her trailing garment to a train extends:  
Her dangling hair upon her crest descends:  
Her voice and shape at once transformed became:  
And to the Prodigy they give a name.  
Old Chiron weeps; and Phoebus, vainly cries  
On thee to change the changeless Destinies.  
Admit thou couldst: thee, from thyself expelled,  
Then Elis, and Messenian pastures held.  
It was the time when, clothed in Neatherds weeds,  
Thou play'dst upon unequal sevenfold Reeds:  
Whilst thee thy Pipe delights, whilst cares of love  
Thy soul possess, and other cares remove;  
Without a guard the Pylian Oxen stray:  
Observed by the crafty son of May,  
Forthwith he secretly conveys them thence,  
In untract Woods concealing his offence.  
None saw but Battus, in that Country bred;  
Who wealthy Neleus famous horses fed.  
Him only he misdoubts: then, (taken apart)  
Stranger, said Mercury, what ere thou art;  
If any for this Herd by chance inquire,  
Conceal thy knowledge: and receive, for hire,  
This white-haired Cow. He took her, and replied,  
Be safe; thy theft shall sooner be descried  
By yonder stone, than me; and showed a stone.  
Jove's son departs, and strait returns unknown  
(A seeming Clown in form and voice) who said:  
Saw'st thou no cattle through these fields conveyed?  
Detect the the●t; in their recovery join:  
And, lo, this Hecfer, with her Bull, is thine.  
He (the reward redoubled) answered: There  
Beneath those hills, beneath those hills they were.  
Then, Hermes, laughing loud; What, knave, I say,  
Me to myself; me to myself betray?  
Then, to a Touchstone turned his perjured breast;  
Whose nature now is in that name expressed.  
She might not enter), and the dark door struck  
With her bright lance; which strait in sunder broke.  
There saw she Envy lapping Viper's blood;  
And feeding on their flesh, her vices food:  
And, having seen her, turn'd-away her eyes.  
The Caitiff slowly from the ground doth rise  
(Her halfe-devoured Serpents laidaside)  
And forward creepeth with a lazy stride.  
Viewing her form so fair; her arms, so bright;  
She groaned, and sighed at such a cheerful sight.  
Her body more than meager; pale her hue;  
Her teeth all rusty; still she looks askew;  
Her breast with gall, her tongue with poison swelled:  
She only laughed, when she sad sights beheld.  
Her everwaking cares exiled soft sleep:  
Who looks on good success, with eyes that weep:  
Repining, pines: who, wounding others, bleeds:  
And on herself revengeth her misdeeds.  
Although Tritonia did the Hag detest;  
Yet briefly thus her pleasure she expressed:  
Aglauros, one of the Cecropides,  
Do thou infest with thy accursed disease.  
This said; the hasty Goddess doth advance  
Her body, with her earth-repelling lance.  
Enuic pursues her with a wicked eye,  
Much grieved at her prevailing industry.  
Wrapped in dark clouds, which way so ere she turns,  
The Corn she lodges, flowery pastures burns,  
Crops what grows high; Towns, Nations, with her breath  
Pollutes; and Virtue persecutes to death▪  
When she the fair Athenian towers beheld,  
Which so in wealth, in learned Arts excelled,  
And feastful Peace; to cry she scarce forbears,  
In that she saw no argument for tears.  
When she Aglaur●s lodging entered had,  
She gladly executes what Pallas bade:  
Her cankered hand upon her breast she laid,  
And crooked thorns into her heart conveyed,  
And breathed in baneful poison; which she sheds  
Into her bones, and through her liver spreads.  
And that her envy might not want a cause:  
The God in his divinest form she draws:  
And with it, sets before her wounded eyes  
Her happy sister, and their nuptial joys:  
Augmenting all. These secret woes excite,  
And gnaw her soul. She sighs all day, all night;  
And with a slow infection melts away,  
Like Ice before the Sun's uncertain ray.  
Fair Herse's happy state such heart-burne breeds  
In her black bosom, as when spiny weeds  
Are set on fire: which without flame consume:  
And seem (so small their heat) to burn with fume.  
Oft she resolves to die, such sights to shun:  
Oft, by disclosing, to have both undone.  
Now sits she on the threshold, to prevent  
The God's access; who with lost blandishment,  
And his best Art, persuades. Quoth she; forbear,  
I cannot be removed, if you stay here.  
I to this bargain, he replied will stand;  
The door than forces with his figured wand.  
Striving to rise, to second her debate,  
Her hips could not remove, pressed with dull weight.  
Again she struggled to have stood on end:  
But those v●●supple sinews would not bend.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The third Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Armed troops from Dragons late-sowne teeth arise.  
By his own Hounds the Hart Actaeon dies.  
juno, a Beldame. Semele doth fry  
In wished embraces. Bacehus from Jove's thigh  
Takes second birth. The wise Tiresias twice  
Doth change his sex. Scorned Echo pines t' a voice:  
Self-loved Narcissus to a Daffodil.  
Bacchus, a Boy. The Tyrrhen's ship stands still,  
With Iuy mor'd. Strange shapes the Sailor's fright:  
Who Dolphines turn, and still in ships delight.  
ANd now the God arriving with his Rape  
At sacred Crect, resumes his heavenly shape  
The King his son to seek his daughter sent,  
Fore-doomed to perpetual banishment,  
Except his fortune to his wish succeed:  
How pious, and how impious in one deed!  
Earth wandred-through (Jove's thefts who can exquire?)  
He shuns his Country, and his Father's ire:  
With Phoebus' Oracle consults, to know  
What Land the Fates intended to bestow.  
Who, thus: In desert fields observe a Cow,  
Yet never yoast, nor servile to the plow.  
Follow her slow conduct, and where she shall  
Repose, there build: the place Boeotia call.  
Scarce Cadmus from Castalian Cave descended,  
When he a Hecfer saw, by no man tended,  
Her neck vngalled with groaning servitude.  
The God adored, he foot by foot pursewed.  
Cephisus flood, and Panope now past,  
She made a stand; to heaven her forehead cast,  
With lofty horns most exquisitely fair;  
Then, with repeated lowings filled the Air:  
Looks back upon the company sheeled;  
And, kneeling, makes the tender grass her bed.  
Thanksgiving Cadmus kift the unknown ground;  
The stranger fields and hills saluting round.  
About to sacrifice to heaven's high King,  
He sends for water from the living Spring.  
A Wood there was, which never Axe did hew;  
In it, a Cave, where Reeds and Osiers grew,  
Roofed with a rugged Arch by Nature wrought;  
With pregnant waters plentifully fraught.  
The lurking Snake of Mars this Hold possessed;  
Bright scaled, and shining with a golden crest;  
His bulk with poison swollen; fire-red his eyes:  
Three darting tongues, three ranks of teeth comprise.  
This fatal Will th'unlucky Tyrians found;  
Who with their down-let Pitcher, raised a sound.  
With that, the Serpent his blue head extends;  
And suffering Air with horrid hisses rents.  
The water from them fell: their colour fled:  
Who all, astonished, shaken with sudden dread.  
He wreaths his scaly folds into a heap;  
And fetched a compass with a mighty leap:  
Then, bolt-upright his monstrous length displays  
More than half way; and all the Woods surveys.  
Whose body, when all seen, no less appears,  
Than that, which parts the two Celestial Bears.  
Whether the Tyrians sought to fight, or fly,  
Or whether they through fear could neither try;  
Some crash the 'twixt his jaws; some clasped to death;  
Some kills with poison; others with his breath.  
And now the Sun the shortest shadows made;  
Then, Cadmus, wondering why his servants stayed  
Their footsteps traced. A hide the Hero's wore,  
Which late he from a slaughtered Lion tore:  
His Arms a dart, a bright steele-pointed Spear;  
And such a mind as could not stoop to fear.  
When he the Wood had entered, and there viewed  
The bodies of the slain with blood embrued;  
Th'insulting victor quenching his dire thirst  
At their sucked wounds; he sigh't, as heart would burst:  
Then said, I will revenge, O faithful Mates,  
Your murders, or accompany your Fates.  
With that, he lifteth up a mighty stone,  
which with a more than manly force was thrown.  
What would have battered down the strongest wall,  
And shivered towers, doth give no wound at all.  
The hardness of his skin, and scales that grow  
Upon his armed back, repel the blow.  
And yet that strong defence could not so well  
The vigour of his thrilling Dart repel;  
Which through his winding back a passage rends:  
There sticks: the steel into his guts descends.  
Rabid with anguish, ho retorts his look  
Upon the wound, and then the javelining took  
Between his teeth; it every way doth wind:  
At length, tugged out, yet leaves the head behind.  
His rage increased with his augmenting pains:  
And his thick-panting throat swells with full veins.  
A cold white froth surrounds his poisonous jaws:  
On thundering Earth his trailing scales he draws:  
Who from his black and Stygian maw eiects  
A blasting breath, which all the grass infects.  
His body, now he circularly bends;  
Forthwith into a monstrous length extends:  
Then rusheth on, like showr-incensed Floods;  
And with his breast ore-beares the obvious Woods.  
The Prince gave way; who with the Lion's spoil  
Sustained th' assault; and forced a quick recoil,  
His Lance fixed in his jaws. What could not feel,  
He madly wounds; and bites the biting steel.  
Th' envenomed gore; which from his palate bled,  
Converts the grass into a dusky red:  
Yet, slight the hurt, in that the Snake withdrew;  
And so, by yielding, did the force subdue.  
Till Agenorides the steel embrued  
In his wide throat, and still his thrust pursewed;  
Until an Oak his back-retrait withstood:  
There, he his neck transsixt: with it, the Wood  
The Tree bends with a burden so unknown;  
And, lashed, by the Serpent's tail, doth groan.  
While he surveyed the hugeness of his foe,  
This voice he heard (from whence he did not know)  
Why is that Serpent so admired by thee?  
Agenor's son, a Serpent thou shalt be.  
He speechless grew: pale fear repelled his blood;  
And now uncurled hair like bristles stood.  
Behold! man's Fautresse, Pallas (from the sky  
Descending to his needful aid) stood by:  
Who bade him in the turn'd-vp surrowes throw  
The Serpent's teeth; that future men might grow.  
He, as commanded, ploughed the patient Earth:  
And therein sowed the seeds of humane birth.  
Lo (past belief!) the Clods began to move:  
And tops of Lances first appeared above:  
Then, Helmets, nodding with their plumed Crefts;  
Forthwith, refulgent Pouldrons, plated Breasts;  
Hands, with offensive weapons charged, ensue:  
And Target-bearing troops of Men up-grew.  
So in our Theatres solemnities,  
When they the Arras raise, the Figures rise:  
Afore the rest, their faces first appear;  
By little and by little than they rear  
Their bodies, with a measure-keeping hand,  
Until their feet upon the border stand.  
Bold Cadmus, though much daunted at the sight  
Of such an Host, addressed him to the fight.  
Forbear (a newborn Soldier cried) t' engage  
Thy better fortune in our civil rage!  
With that, he on his earth-bred brother flew:  
At whom, a deadly dart another threw.  
Nor he that killed him, long suruiucs his death;  
But, through wide wounds expires his infant breath.  
Slaughter, with equal fury, runs through all:  
And by uncivil civil blows they fall.  
The new-sprung Youth, who hardly life possessed,  
Now panting, kick their Mother's bloody breast:  
But five survived: of whom, Echion one;  
His Arms to Earth by Pallas counsel thrown,  
He craves the love he offers. All accord  
As Brothers should, and what they take afford.  
Sidonian Cadmus these assist, to build  
His lofty walls; the Oracle fulfilled.  
Now flourished Thebes: now did thy exile prove  
In show a blessing; those that rule in love  
And war, thy Nuptials with their daughter grace:  
By such a Wife to have so fair a race;  
So many sons and daughters; nephews too  
(The pledges of their peaceful beds) ensue;  
And they now grown to excellence and power.  
But, Man must censured be by his last hour:  
Whom truly we can never happy call,  
Afore his death, and closing funeral.  
In this thy every way so prosperous state,  
Thy first mishap sprung from thy Nephew's fate,  
Whose brows unnatural branches ill adorn;  
By his ungrateful dogs in pieces torn.  
Yet fortune did offend in him; not he:  
For, what offence may in an error be?  
With purple blood, slain Dear the Hills imbrue:  
And now high Noon the shades of things withdrew;  
While East and West the equal Sun partake:  
Thus, then Hyantius to his Partners spoke,  
That trod the Mazes of the pathless Wood:  
My Friends our nets and javelins reak with blood:  
Enough hath been the fortune of this day:  
To morrow, when Aurora shall display  
Her rosy cheeks, we may our sports renew.  
Now I hoebu, with inflaming eye doth view  
The crannyed Earth: here let our labour end:  
Take up your toils. They gladly condescend.  
A vale there was with Pines and Cypress crowned,  
Gargaphy called; for Diana's love renowned.  
A shady Cave possessed the inward part,  
Not wrought by hands; there, Nature witty Art  
Did counterfeit: a native Arch she drew,  
With Pumice and light Topases, that grew.  
A bubbling Spring, with streams as clear as glass  
Ran chiding by, enclosed with matted grass.  
The weary Huntress usually here laves  
Her Virgin limbs, more pure than those pure waves.  
And now her Bow, her Iau'lin, and her Quiver;  
Doth to a Nymph, one of her Squires, deliver:  
Her light impoverished Robes another held:  
Her Buskins two untie. The better skilled  
If menian Crocale, her long hair wound  
In pleited-wreathes: yet was her own unbound.  
Neat Hyale, Niphe, Rhanis, Psecas (still  
Employed) and Phiale the Lauers fill.  
While here Titania bathed (as was her guise)  
Lo Cadmus Nephew, tired with exercise,  
And wand'ring through the Woods, approached this Grove  
With satal steps, so Destiny him droue!  
Entering the Cave with skipping Springs bedeawed:  
The Nymphs, all naked, when a Man they viewed,  
Clapped their resounding breasts, and filled the Wood  
With sudden shrieks: like ivory pales they stood  
About their Goddess: but she, far more tall,  
By head and shoulders ouer-tops them all.  
Such as that colour, which the Clouds adorns,  
Shot by the Sunne-beam's; or the rosy Morn's:  
Such flushed in Diane's cheeks, being naked ta'en.  
And though environed by her Virgin train,  
She side-long turns, looks back, and wished her bow:  
Yet, what she had, she in his face doth throw.  
With vengeful Waters sptinkled; to her rage  
These words she adds, which future Fate presage:  
Now, tell how thou hast seen me disarrayed;  
Tell if thou canst: I give thee leave. This said,  
She to his neck and ears new length imparts;  
This Brow th' antlers of long-living Hearts:  
His legs and feet with arms and hands supplied;  
And clothed his body in a spotted hide.  
To this, fear added. Autonocîus flies,  
And wonders at the swiftness of his thighs.  
But, when his looks he in the River viewed,  
He would have cried, Woe's me! no words ensued:  
His words were groans. He frets, with galling tears,  
Checks not his own; yet his own mind he bears.  
What should he do? Go home? or in the Wood  
For ever lurk? Fear, this; shame that withstood.  
While thus he doubts, his Dogs their Master view:  
Black-foot and Tracer, opening first, pursue:  
Sure Tracer, Gnossus; Black-foot Sparta bare.  
Then all fell in, more swift than forced Air:  
Spy, havener, ●li●e-clif●e; these Arcadia bred:  
Strong Fawn-bane, Whirlwind, eager Follow-dread;  
Hunter, for sent; for speed, Flight went before;  
Flerce savage, lately ganched by a Boar;  
Greedy, with her two whelps; grim Wolf-got Ranger;  
Stout Shepherd, late preserving flocks from danger;  
Gaunt Catch, whose race from Sicyonia came;  
〈◊〉 Courser, Blab; rash Tiger never tame;  
Blanch, Mourner, Roister, Wolf surpassing strong;  
And Tempest, able to continue long:  
Swift, with his brother Churl, a Cyprian hound;  
Bold Snatch, whose sable brows a white star crowned;  
Cole shag-haired Rug, and Lightfoot wondrous fleet,  
Bred of a Spartan Bitch, his Sire of ●reet;  
White-tooth, and Ring-wood (others not t' express.)  
O'er Rocks, o'er Crags, o'er Cliffs that want access,  
Through straightened ways, and where there was no way,  
The well-mouthed hounds pursue the princely prey.  
Where oft he want to follow, now he flies;  
Flies from his family! in thought he cries,  
I am Actaeon, servants, know your Lord!  
Thoughts wanted words. High skies the noise record.  
First, Collier pinched him by the haunch: in flung  
Fierce Kill-deare; Hill-bred on his shoulder hung.  
These came forth last; but crossed a nearer way  
A-thwart the hills. While thus their Lord they stay,  
In rush the rest, who gripe him with their fangs.  
Now is no room for wounds. Groans speak his pangs,  
Though not with humane voice, unlike a Hart:  
In whose laments the known Rocks bear a part.  
Pitched on his knees, like one who pity craves,  
His silent looks, instead of Arms, he waves.  
With usual shouts their Dogs the Hunter's cheer;  
And seek, and call Actaeon. He (too near!)  
Made answer by mute motions, blamed of all  
For being absent at his present fall.  
Present he was, that absent would have been;  
Nor would his cruel hounds have felt, but seen.  
Their snouts they in his body bathe; and tear  
Their Master in the figure of a Dear:  
Nor, till a thousand wounds had life disseised,  
Could quiver-bearing Diana be appeased.  
'Twas censured variously: for, many thought  
The punishment far greater than the faued.  
Others so sour a chastity commend,  
As worthy her: and both, their parts defend.  
Jove's wife not so much blamed or praised the deed;  
As she rejoiceth at the wounds that bleed  
In Cadmus' Family; who keeps in mind  
Europa's rape, and hateth all the kind.  
Now new occasions fresh displeasure move:  
For Semcle was great with child by jove.  
Then, thus she scolds: O, what amends succeeds  
Our lost complaints! I now will fall to deeds.  
If we be more than titularly great;  
If we a Sceptre sway; if Heaven our seat;  
If Jove's feared Wife and Sister (certainly,  
His Sister) torment shall the Whore destroy.  
Yet, with that theft perhaps she was content,  
And quickly might the injury repent:  
But, she conceives, to aggravate the blame,  
And by her Belly doth her crime proclaim.  
Who would by jupiter a Mother prove,  
Which hardly once, hath happened to our love:  
So confident is beauty! Yet shall he  
Deceive her hopes: nor let me juno be,  
Unless, by her own jove destroyed, she make  
A swift descent unto the Stygian Lake.  
● She quits her Throne, and in a yellow cloud  
Approached the Palace; nor disinist that shroud,  
Till she had wrinkled her smooth skin, and made  
Her head all grey: while creeping feet conveyed  
Her crooked limbs; her voice small, weak, and hoarse,  
Beroc-like, of Epidaure, her Nurse.  
Long-talking; at the mention of Jove's name,  
She sigh't, and said; Pray heaven, he prove the same!  
Yet much I fear: for many oft beguile  
With that pretext, and chastest beds defile.  
Though jove; that's not enough. Give he a sign  
Of his affection, if he be divine.  
Such, and so mighty, as when pleasure warms  
His melting bosom, in high Juno's arms;  
With thee, such and so mighty, let him lie,  
Decked with the ensigns of his deity.  
Thus she advised the unsuspecting Dame;  
Who begs of love a boon without a name.  
To whom the God: Choose, and thy choice possess;  
Yet, that thy diffidency may be less,  
Witness that Powre, who through obscure abodes  
Spreads his dull streams: the fear, and God of Gods.  
Pleased with her harm, of too much power to move!  
To perish by the kindness of her Love:  
Such be to me, she said, as when the Invites  
Of juno summon you to Venus' Rites.  
Her mouth he sought to stop: but, now that breath  
Was mixed with air which sentenced her death.  
Then, fetch't a sigh, as if his breast would tear  
(For, she might not unwish, nor he unswear)  
And sadly mounts the sky; who with him took  
The Clouds, that imitate his mournful look;  
Thick showers and tempests adding to the same,  
With thunder and incuitable flame.  
Whose rigour yet he striveth to subdue:  
Not armed with that fire which overthrew  
The hundred-handed Giant; 't was too wild;  
There is another lightning, far more mild,  
By Cyclops forged with less flame and ire:  
Which, deathless Gods do call the Second fire.  
This, to her Father's house, he with him took:  
But (ah!) a mortal body could not brook  
AEthere all tumults. Her success she mourns;  
And in those so desired embracements burns.  
Th' unperfect Babe, which in her womb did lie,  
Was ta'en by jove, and sewed into his thigh,  
His Mother's time accomplishing: whom first,  
By stealth, his careful Aunt, kind Ino, nursed:  
Then, given to the Nyseides, and bred  
In secret Caves, with milk and honey fed.  
While this on earth befell by Fates decree  
(The twice-born Baccbus now from danger free)  
jove, weighty cares expelling from his breast  
With flowing Nectar, and disposed to jest  
With well-pleased juno, said: In Venus' deeds,  
The Femal's pleasure far the Male's exceeds.  
This she denies; Tiresias must decide  
The difference, who both delights had tried.  
For, two engendering Serpents once he found,  
And with a stroke their slumy twists vnbound;  
Who strait a Woman of a man became:  
Seven Autums past, he in the eighth the same  
Refinding, said: If such your power, so strange,  
That they who strike you must their nature change;  
Once more I'll try. Then, struck, away they ran:  
And of a Woman he became a Man.  
He, chosen Umpire of this sportful strife,  
Jove's words confirmed. This vexed his forward wife  
More than the matter craved. To wreak her spite,  
His eyes she mustled in eternal night.  
Th'ominpotent (since no God may undo  
An others deed) with Fates which should ensue  
Informed his Intellect; and did supply  
His body's eyesight, with his minds clear eye.  
He giving sure replies to such as came,  
Through all th' Aonian City's stretched his fame.  
First, blue Liriope sad trial made  
How that was but too true which he had said:  
Whom in times past Cephisus flood embraced  
Within his winding streams, and forced the chaste.  
The lovely Nymph (who not unfruitful proved)  
Brought forth a Boy, even then to be beloved,  
Narcissus named Enquiring if old age  
Should crown his Youth; He, in obscure presage,  
Made this reply: Except himself he know.  
Long, they no credit on his words bestow:  
Yet did the event the prophecy approve,  
In his strange ruin, and new kind of love.  
Now, he to twenty added had a year:  
Now in his looks both Boy and Man appear.  
Many a lovesick Youth did him desire;  
And many a Maid his beauty set on fire:  
Yet, in his tender age his pride was such  
That neither Youth nor Maiden might him touch.  
The vocal Nymph, this lovely Boy did spy  
(She could not proffer speech, nor not reply)  
When busy in pursuit of savage spoils,  
He drove the Dear into his corded toils.  
Eccbo was then a Body, not a Voice:  
Yet then, as now, of words she wanted choice▪  
But only could reiterate the close  
Of every speech. This juno did impose.  
Beholds his eyes, two stars! his dangling hair  
Which with unshorn Apolo's might compare!  
His fingers worthy Bacebus! his smooth chin!  
His ivory neck! His heavenly face! Wherein  
The linked Deities their Graces fix!  
Where Roses with unsullied Lillyes mix!  
Admneth all for which, to be admired:  
And unconsiderately himself desired.  
The praises, which he gives, his beauty claimed.  
Who seeks, is sought: th' Inflamer is inflamed.  
How often would he kiss the flattering spring!  
How oft with downe-thrust arms sought he to cling  
About that loved neck! Those cous'ning lips  
Delude his hopes; and from himself he slips.  
Not knowing what, with what he sees he fries:  
And th' error that deceives, incites his eyes.  
O Fool! That strivest to catch a flying shade!  
Thou seekest what's nowhere: Turn aside, 'twill vade.  
Thy form's reflection doth thy sight delude:  
Which is with nothing of its own endued.  
With thee it comes; with thee it stays; and so  
'Twould go away, hadst thou the power to go.  
Nor sleep, nor hunger could the Lover raise:  
Who, laid along, on that false form doth gaze  
With looks, which looking never could suffice;  
And ruinares himself with his own eyes.  
At length, a little lifting up his head;  
You Woods, that round about your branches spread,  
Was ever so unfortunate a Lover!  
You know, to many you have been a cover;  
From your first growth to this long distant day  
Have you known any, thus to pine away!  
I like, and so, but yet I cannot find  
The liked, and seen. O'Loue, with error blind!  
What grieves me more: no Sea, no Mountain steep,  
No ways, no walls, our joys asunder keep:  
Whom but a little water doth divide,  
And he himself desires to be enjoyed.  
As oft as I to kiss the flood decline,  
So oft his lips ascend, to close with mine.  
You'd think we touched: so small a thing doth par●  
Our equal loves! Come forth, what ere thou art.  
Sweet Boy, a simple Boy beguile not so:  
From him that seeks thee, whither wouldst thou go?  
My age nor beauty merit thy disdain:  
And me the Nymphs have often loved in vain.  
Yet in thy friendly shows my poor hopes live;  
Still striving to receive the hand I give:  
Thou smil'st my smiles: when I a tear let fall,  
Thou shedd'st an other; and consent'st in all.  
And, lo, thy sweetly-moving lips appear  
To utter words, that come not to our care.  
Ah, He is I! now, now I plainly see:  
Nor is't my shadow that bewitcheth me.  
With love of me I burn; (O too too sure!)  
And suffer in those flames which I procure.  
Shall I be wooed, or woo? What shall I crave?  
Since what I covet, I already have.  
Too much hath made me poor! O, you divine  
And favouring Powers, me from myself disjoind  
Of what I love, I would be dispossessed:  
This, in a Lover, is a strange request  
Now, strength through grief decays: short 〈◊〉 the time  
I have to live; extinguished in my Prime.  
Nor grieves it me to part with well-mist breath;  
For grief will find a perfect cure in death:  
Would he I love might longer life enjoy!  
Now, two ill-fated Lovers, in one, die.  
This said; again upon his image gazed;  
Tears on the troubled water circle's raised:  
The motion much obscured the fleeting shade.  
With that, he cried (perceiving it to vade)  
O, whither wilt thou! stay: nor cruel prove,  
In leaving me, who infinitely love.  
Yet let me see, what cannot be possessed;  
And, with that empty food, my fury feast.  
Complaining thus, himself he disarrayes;  
And to remorseless hands his breast displays:  
The blows that solid snow with crimson stripe:  
Like Apples party-red, or Grapes scarce ripe.  
But, in the water when the same appear,  
He could no longer such a sorrow bear.  
As Virgin wax dissolves with fervent heat:  
Or morning frost, whereon the Sunbeams beat:  
So thaws he with the ardour of desire;  
And, by degrees, consumes in unseen fire.  
His meager checks now lost, their red and white;  
That life, that favour lost, which did delight.  
Nor those divine proportions now remain,  
So much by Eccbo lately loved in vain.  
Which when she saw; although she angry were.  
And still in mind her late repulse did bear;  
As often as the miserable cried,  
Alas! Alas, the woeful Nymph replied.  
And ever when he struck his sounding breast,  
Like sounds of mutual sufferance expressed.  
His last words were, still hanging o'er his shade;  
Ah, Boy, beloved in vain! so Echo said.  
Farewell. Farewell, sighed she. Then down he jyes:  
Death's cold hand shuts his self-admiring eyes:  
Which now eternally their gazes fix  
Upon the Waters of infernal Styx.  
The woeful Naiads lament the dead;  
And their clipped hair upon their brother spread.  
The woeful Dryads partake their woes:  
With both, sad Echo joins at cuery close.  
The funeral Pyle prepared, a Hearse they brought  
To fetch his body, which they vainly sought.  
In stead whereof a yellow flower was found,  
With tufos of white about the button crowned.  
This, through Achaia spread the Prophet's fame;  
Who worthily had purchas't a great name.  
But, proud Echion's son, who did despise  
The righteous Gods, derides his prophecies;  
And twits Tiresias with his ravished sight.  
He shook his head, which age had cloth'd-in white;  
And said, 'T were well for thee, hadst thou no eyes  
To see the Bacchanal solemnities.  
The time shall come (which I presage is near)  
When Semeleian Liber will be here:  
Whom if thou honour not with Temples due;  
Thy Mother, and her sisters shall imbrue  
Their furious hands in thy effused blood;  
And throw thy severed limbs about the Wood  
'T will be; thy malice cannot but rebel:  
And then thou'lt say; The blind did see too well.  
His mouth proud Pentheus stops. Belief succeeds  
Fore-runing threats: and words are sealed by deeds.  
〈◊〉 is come; the fields with clamour sound:  
They in his Orgies tread a frantic Round.  
Women with Men, the base, and nobler sort.  
Together to those unknown Rites resort.  
You sons of Mars, you of the Dragon's race  
(Said be) what fury doth your minds embase?  
Is Brafse of such a power, which drunkards bea●,  
Or sound of Horns, or Magical deceit;  
That you, whom Trumpets clangor, horrid fight,  
Nor death, with all his terrors, could affright;  
Loud Women, wine-bread rage, a lustful crew  
Of Beasts, and Kettledrums, should thus subdue?  
At you, grave Fathers, can I but admire!  
Who brought with you your flying Gods from Tyre,  
And sixth them here: now from that care so far  
Estranged, as to lose them without war!  
Or you, who of my able age appear;  
Whose heads should helmets, and not garlands, wear!  
Not levy javelins, but good Swords adorn  
The hands of Youth. O you, so nobly borne;  
That Dragon's fiery fortitude endue,  
Whose single valour such a number slew.  
He, in defending of his Fountain, fell:  
Do you th' Inuadets of your fame repel.  
He slew the strong: do● you the weak destroy;  
And free your Country from foul imfamy.  
If Destinies decree that ●b●b●s must fall;  
May men, may warlike engines raze her wall:  
I et sword and fire our famished lives assault:  
Then should we not be wretched through our fault,  
Nor strive to hide out guilt; but, Fortune blame;  
And vent our pitied sorrows without shame.  
Now, by a naked Boy we are put to flight:  
Whom bounding Steeds, nor glorious Arms delight,  
But hair perfumed with Myrrh, soft Anadems,  
And purple Robes enchased with gold and gems:  
Who shall confess (if you your aid deny)  
His forged Father, and false Deity.  
What? Had Acrisius virtue to withstand  
Th'Impostor, chased from the Argive strand?  
And shall this vagabond, this foreigner,  
Me Pentheus and the Thehan State deter?  
Go (said he to his servants) go your way,  
And drag him hither bound: prevent delay.  
Him Cadmus, Athamas, and all dissuade;  
By opposition, more intemperate made.  
Fury increaseth, when it is withstood:  
And then good counsel doth more harm than good.  
So have I seen and unstopped torrent glide  
With quiet waters, scarcely heard to chide:  
But, when fallen Trees, or Rocks, impeached his course▪  
To some, and roar with uncontrolled force.  
All bloody they return. Where is, said he,  
This Bacchus? Bacchus none of us did see,  
Replied they, This his minister we found  
(Presenting one with hands behind him bound)  
A Lydian. zealous in those mystories.  
On whom fierce Pentheus' looks, with wrathful eyes:  
Who hardly could his punishment defer.  
Then, thus: thou wretch, that others shalt deter,  
Declare thy Name, thy Nation, Parentage;  
And why thou followest this new-fangled Rage,  
He in whom innocency fear o'ercome;  
Made this reply: Acetes is my name:  
My life I owe to the Maeonian earth;  
To none, my fortunes; borne of humble birth.  
No land my Father left me to manure,  
Nor Herds, nor bleating Flocks: himself was poor.  
The tempted Fish, with hook and line he caught:  
His skill was all his wealth: His skill he taught;  
And said, My heir, successor to my Art,  
Receive the riches which I can impart.  
He, dying, left me nothing; and yet all:  
The Sea may I my patrimony call.  
Yet, lest I still should on those Rocks abide,  
To navigation I my time applied;  
Observed th' Olenian kids, that rain portend;  
The Hyadeses, who weep when thy descend;  
Taygeta, and Arcturur; the resort▪  
Of several winds; and harbour-giving Ports.  
For Delos bound, we made the Cbian shores:  
And, there arrived, with industrions' Oars.  
Leaping ashore, I made the beach my bed.  
When aged Night Aurora's blushes fled,  
I rose; and bade my men fresh water bring:  
Showing the way that guided to the Spring  
Then, from a Hill observed the winds accords,  
My Mates I called, and forthwith went aboard.  
All here, the Master's Mate Ophelies cries;  
And thinking he had light upon a prize,  
Along the shore a lovely Boy conveyed,  
Adorned with the beauty of a Maid.  
Heavy with wine and sleep, he reeled so.  
That, thought supported, he could hardly go●.  
When I beheld his habit, gait, and feature,  
I could not think it was a humane Creature.  
Fellows, I doubt (nay, without doubt) said I,  
This excellence includes a Deitic.  
O, be propitious, whosoe'er thou art;  
And to out industry success impart;  
And pardon these who have offended thus  
Then, Dictys said: Forbear to pray for us:  
(Than he, none could the top saile-yard bestride  
With lighter speed; nor thence more nimbly slide)  
This, Libys, swart Melanthus (who the Prov●  
Commanded) and Alcimedon allow;  
Epopeus the Boatman, so all say;  
Bewitched with the blind desire of prey.  
This ship, said I, you shall not violate  
With sacrilege of so divine a weight;  
Wherein I have most interest, and command:  
And on the hatches their ascent withstand.  
Whereat, the desperate Lycabas grew wild;  
Who for a bloody murder was exiled  
From Tuscam. Whilst I alone resist,  
He took me such a buffer with his fist,  
That down I fell; and had fall'n overboard,  
If I (though senseless) had not caught a cord.  
The wicked Company the fact approve.  
Then, Bacchus (for, 'twas he) began to move,  
As if awaked with the noise they made  
(His wind-bound senses now discharged) and said:  
What clamour's this? What do you? Sailors, whither  
Mean you to bear me? Ah, how came I hither!  
Fear not, said Proreus; name where thou wouldst be;  
And to that Harbour we will carry thee.  
Then, Friends, Lyaeus said, for Naxos stand:  
Naxos my home; an hospitable Land.  
By Seas, by all the Gods, by what avails,  
They swear they will, and bade me hoyse-up sails.  
Which trimmed for, Naxos on the Starboard side;  
What dost thou madman, fool? Opheltes cried.  
Each fears his loss. Some whisper in mine care:  
Most say by signs, Unto the Lar-board steer.  
Amazed: Some other hold the Helm, said I;  
I le not be tainted with your perjury.  
All chafe and storm. What? said Ethalion,  
Is all our sefetie placed in thee alone?  
With that, my office he upon him took;  
And Naxos (altering her course) for sooke.  
The God (as if their fraud but now out-found)  
From th' upper deck the Sea surveyed round;  
Then, seem d to cry. Sirs, this is not, said he,  
That promised shore, the Land so wished by me.  
What is my fault? What glory in my spoil,  
If men a Boy, if many one beguile?  
I wept afore: but, they my tears deride;  
And with laborious Oars the waves divide.  
By him I swear (than whom none more in view)  
That what I now shall utter, is as true,  
As past belief. The ship in those profound  
And spacefull Sea●, so stuck as on dry ground.  
They, wondering, plied their Oars; the sails displayed;  
And strive to run her with that added aid  
When luy gave their Oars a forced restraint;  
Whose creeping bands the sails with Beriyes paint.  
He, head-bound with a wreath of clustered Vines,  
A lavelin shook, clasped with their levy twines.  
Stern Tigers, Lyaxes (such unto the eye)  
And spotted Panthers, round about him lie.  
All, overboard now tumble; whether ' 'twere  
Out of infused madness, or for fear.  
Then, Medon first with spiny fins grew black;  
His form depressed, with a compassed back.  
To whom said Lycabas; o more than strange!  
Into what uncouth Monster wilt thou change!  
As thus he spoke, his mouth became more wide;  
His nose more hooked: scales arm his hardened hide.  
While Libys tugged an Oar that fixed stands,  
His hands shrunk up; now fins, no longer hands.  
Another by a-cable thought to hold;  
But, missed his arms. He fell: the Seas enfold  
His maimed body: which a tail est-soone  
Receives, reversed like the horned Moon.  
They leap a loft, and sprinkle-up the Flood;  
Now chase above; now under water scud:  
Who like lascivious Dancers frisk about;  
And gulped Seas, from their wide nostrils sponve.  
Of twenty Sailors, only I remained:  
So many men our Compliment contained.  
The God my mind could hardly animate;  
Trembling with horror of so dire a Fate.  
Suppress, said he, these tumults of thy fear;  
And now thy course for sacred Dia bear.  
Arrived there, with his implored consent,  
I Order taken; and thus his Feasts frequent.  
Our ears are tired with thy long ambages:  
Which wrath, said he, would by delay, appease.  
Go, servants, take him hence: let his forced breath  
Expire in groans: and torture him to death.  
In solid prison penned; while they proud  
Whips, Racks, and Fire, the doors fly open wide.  
And of themselves, as if dissolved by charms,  
The fetters fall from his vnpinioned arms.  
But now, not bidding others, Pentheus flings  
To high Cithaeron's sacred top, which rings  
With frantic songs, and shrill-voiced Bacchanals,  
In Liber's celebrated Festivals.  
And as the warlike Courser neighs and bounds,  
Inflamed with fury, when the Trumpet sounds:  
Even so their far-heard clamours set on fire  
Stern Pentheus, and exasperate his ire.  
In midst of all the spacious Mountain stood  
A perspicable Champain, fringed with wood.  
Here, first of all, his Mother him espies,  
Viewing those holy Rites with profane eyes.  
She, first, upon him frantically did run:  
And first her eager javelin pierced her son.  
Come, sisters, cried she, this is that huge Boar  
Which roots our fields; whom we with wounds must gore.  
With that, in-rush the sense-distracted Crew:  
And altogether the amazed pursue.  
Now trembled he; now, late-breathed threats suppressed:  
Himself he blames, and his offence confessed.  
Who cried, Help Aunt Autonoen; I bleed:  
O let Actaeon's ghost soft pity breed!  
Not knowing who Actaeon was, she lops  
His right hand off: the other Ino crops.  
The wretch now to his Mother would have thrown  
His sappliant hands: but, now his hands were gone.  
Yet lifting up their bloody stumps, he said,  
Ah, Mother, see! Agave, well apayed,  
Shouts at the sight, casts up her neck, and shakes  
Her staring hair in cruel hands she takes  
His head, yet gasping: 16 sing, said she,  
jon my Mates! This spoil belongs to me.  
Not leaves, now withered, nipped by Autumn's frost,  
So soon are ravished from high Trees, and tossed  
By Scattering winds, as they in pieces tear  
His minced limbs. Th' Ismenians, struck with fear.  
His Orgies celebrate; his praises sing;  
And incense to his holy Altars bring.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The fourth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
DErceta, a Fish. Semiramis a D●u●.  
Transforming Nais equal Fate dosh pr●●●.  
White berries Lover's blood with black dosiles.  
Apollo, like Eury nome, beguiles  
Leucothoe, buried quick for that offence:  
who, Nector-sprinkled, sprouts to Frankincense.  
Grieved Clitie, turned t'a Flower, turns with the S●●.  
Daphnis, to stone. Sex changeth Scytheon.  
Celmus, a Loadstone. Curets got by showers.  
Crocus, and Smilax, rurned to little flowers.  
In one Hermaphrodite, two bodies join.  
Mineides, Bats. Sad Ino made divine,  
With Melicert. who lunoes fact vpbrayed,  
Or Statues, or Cadmean Fowls are made.  
Hermione and Cadmus, worn with woe,  
Prove hurtless Dragons. Drops to Serpent's grow●.  
Atlas, a Mountain. Gorgon touched Seaweeds  
To C oral change, From Gorgon's blood, proceeds  
Swift Pegasus: Crysaor also takes  
From thence his birth. Fair hairs convers to Snakes.  
But yet, Alcitboen Minenides  
The honoured Orgies of the God displease.  
Her sister's share in that impiety;  
Who Bacchus for the son of jove denic.  
And now his Priest proclaims a solemn Feast;  
That Dames and Maids from usual labour rest;  
That wrapped in skins, their hair-laces vnbound,  
And dangling Tresses with wild luy crowned,  
They levy Spears assume. Who prophesies  
Sad haps to such as his command despise.  
The Matrons and new-marryed Wives obey:  
Their Webs, their un-spun Wool, aside they lay;  
Sweet odours burn; and sing: Lyaeus, Baccbus,  
Nrsaeus, Bromius, Euan, great jacchus;  
F●●-e-got, Son of two Mothers, The twice-borne,  
Father Eleleus, Thyon, nover shorn,  
Lenaeus, planter ' of life cheering Vines;  
Nyetileus: with all names that Greece assigns  
To thee. o Liber! Still dost thou enjoy  
Unwasted Youth; eternally a Boy!  
thou'rt seen in heaven; whom all perfections, grace;  
And, when vnhorned, thou hast a Virgin's face.  
Thy conquests through the Orient are renowned,  
Where tawny India is by Ganges bound.  
Proud Pentheus, and jyenrgus, like profane,  
By thee (o greatly to be feared!) were slain:  
The Thuscaus drenched in Seas. Thou hold'st in awe  
The spotted Lynxes, which thy Chariot draw.  
Light Bacchanals, and skipping Satyrs follow,  
Whilst old. Sylenus, reeling still, doth halloo;  
Who weakly hangs, upon his tardy Ass.  
What place soe'er thou interest, sounding brass,  
I owed Sackbuts, Timbrels, the confused cries  
Of Youths and Women, pierce the marble skies.  
Thy presence, we, Ismenides, implore:  
Come, o come pleased! Thus they his Rites restore.  
Yet, the Menenides at home remain:  
And with their plied task's his Feast profane:  
Who either weave, or at their distaffs spin:  
And urge their Maids to exercise their sin.  
One said, as she the twisted thread out-drew:  
While others sport, and forged Gods pursue.  
Let us. whom better Palles doth invite,  
Out useful labour season with delight,  
And stories tell by turns; that, what long years.  
Deny our eyes, may enter at our ears.  
They all agree; and bade the eldest tell  
Her story first. She paused, not knowing well  
Of many which to choose: Tinsist upon  
The Sad Dercetis, of famed Ba●ylon  
(Who, as the Palestines believe, did take  
A scaly form, inhabiting a Lake)  
Or of her daughter speak, with winged ascent  
High-pearcht on towers: who there her old age spent:  
Or of that Ndis; who with charms most strange,  
And weeds too powerful, humane shapes did change,  
Into mute Fishes, till a Fish thee grew:  
Or of the Tree whose berries changed their hue;  
The white to black, by blood's aspersion, grown:  
This pleaseth best; as being most unknown.  
Who thus began; and draws the following will.  
Young Pyramus (no Youch so beautiful  
Through all the East) and Thube (Who for fair  
Might with th'immortal Goddesses compose)  
Joined houses, where Semiramis enclosed  
Her stately town, with walls of brick composed.  
This neighbourhood their first acquaintance bred:  
That, grew to love; Love fought a nuptial bed:  
But Parents, who could not withstand, withstood  
Their joint desires, and like incensed blood.  
Signs only utter their unwitnessed loves:  
But hidden fire the violenter proues.  
A cranny in the parting wall was left;  
By shrinking of the newlayd mortar, cleft:  
This, for so many Ages undescried.  
(What cannot Love find out!) the Lovers spied.  
By which, their whispering voices softly trade,  
And Passion's amorous embassy conveyed.  
On this side, and on that, like Snails they cleave;  
And greedily each others breath receive.  
O envious walls (said they) who thus divide  
Whom Love hath joined! O, give us way to slide  
Into each others arms! if such a bliss  
Transcend our Fates, yet suffer us to kiss!  
Nor are w'ingrate: much we confess we owe  
To you, who this dear liberty bestow.  
At Night they did farewell. Their kisses greet  
The senseless stones, with lips that could not meet.  
When from th'approaching Morn the stars withdrew,  
And that the Sun had drunk the scorched dew,  
They at the usual Station meet again;  
And with soft murmurs mutually complain.  
At last, resolve in silence of the Night  
To steal away, and free themselves by flight;  
And with their houses, to forsake the Town.  
Yet, lest they so might wander up and down;  
To meet at Ninus tomb they both agree,  
Under the shell er of a shady Tree.  
There, a high Mulberry, full of white fruit;  
Hard by a living Fountain fixed his Root.  
The Sun, that seemed too slow, his steeds bestows  
In restful Seas: from Seas, wished Night arose.  
Then Thisbe in the dark the cloores unbarred;  
And slipping forth, unmissed by her guard,  
Comes masked to Ninus tomb: there in the cold  
Sits underneath that Tree: Love made her bold.  
When (lo!) a Lioness, smeared with the blood  
Of late-slaine Beefs, approached the neighbour flood,  
To quench her thirst. Far-off by Moonlight spied,  
Swift fear her flight into a Cave doth guide.  
Flying, her mantle from her shoulders fell:  
The fatal Lioness, as from the Well  
Up to the rocky Mountain she withdraws,  
Found it, and tore it with her bloody jaws.  
When Pyramus, who came not forth so soon,  
Perceived by the glimpses of the Moon  
The footing of wild Beasts: his look grew pale.  
But, when he spied her torn and bloody veil;  
One night (said he) two lovers shall destroy!  
She longer life deserved to enjoy.  
The guilt is mine: 'twas I (poor soul!) that slew thee  
Who to a place so full of danger drew thee,  
Nor came before. You Lions, o descend  
From your abodes! a wretch in pecces rend,  
Condemned by his selfe-pronounced doom:  
And make your entrailes my opprobrious tomb!  
But Cowards wish to die. Her mantle he  
Carries along unto th'appointed Tree.  
There having kissed, and washed it with his eyes;  
Take from our blood, said he, the double dyes.  
With that, his body on his sword he threw:  
Which, from the reaking wound, be dying drew.  
Now, on his back, up-spun the blood in smoke:  
As when a Spring-conducting pipe is broke,  
The waters at a little breach break out,  
And hissing, through the aery Region spout.  
The Mulberries their former white forsake;  
And from his sprinkling blood their crimson take.  
Now she, who could not yet her fear remove,  
Retuins, for fear to disappoint her Love..  
Her eager spirit seeks him through her eyes;  
Who longs to tell of her escaped surprise.  
The place and figure of the Tree she knew;  
Yet doubts, the berries having changed their hue.  
Uncertain; she his panting limbs descried,  
That struck the stained earth; and starts aside.  
Box was not paler than her changed look:  
And like the lightly breath'd-on Sea she shook.  
But, when she knew 'twas he (now dispossessed  
Of her amaze) she shrecks, beats her swollen breast,  
Pulls off her hair; embraces, softly rears  
His hanging head, and fills his wound with rears.  
Then, kissing his cold lips: Woe's (she said)  
What cursed Fate hath this division made!  
O speak, my Pyramus! o look on me!  
Thy dear, thy desperate Thisbe calls to thee!  
At Thisbe's name he opens his dim eyes;  
And having seen her, shuts them up, and dies.  
But when his emprie seabbard she had spied,  
And her known Robe; Unhappy man! she cried,  
These wounds from love, stom thine own hand proceed!  
Nor is my hand too weak for such a deed:  
My love as strong. This, this shall courage give  
To force that life which much disdains to live.  
In death I'll follow thee! instyled by all,  
The wretched Cause, and partner of thy Fall.  
Whom Death (that had (alas!) alone the might  
To pull thee from me!) shall not dis-vnite.  
O you, our wretched Parents (thus severe  
To your own blood!) my last Petition hear:  
Whom constant love, whom death hath joined, inter  
Together in one envied Sepulchre.  
And thou, o Tree, whose branches shade the slain;  
Of both our slaughters bear the lasting stain:  
In funeral habit: ever cloth your brood;  
A living monument of our mixed blood.  
This said, his sword, yet recking, she reversed,  
And with a mortal wound her bosom pierced.  
The easy Gods unto her wish accord;  
Their Parents also her desire afford:  
The late-white Mulberryes in black now mourn;  
And what the fire had left, lay in one urn.  
Here ended she. Some intermission made,  
Leucothoê, her sister's silent, said:  
This Sun, who all directeth with his light,  
Weak Love hath tamed: his loves we now recite.  
He first discovered the adultery  
Of Mars and Venus (nothing escapes his eye)  
And in displeasure told to Juno's son  
Their secret stealths, and where the deed was done.  
His spirits faint: his hands could not sustain  
The work in hand. Forthwith, he forged a chain,  
With nets of brass, that might the eye deceive,  
(Less curious far the webs which Spiders we●uc.)  
Made pliant to each touch, and apt to close:  
This, he about the guilty bed bestows.  
No sooner these Adulterer's were met,  
Than caught in his so strangely forged net;  
Who, struggling, in compelled embracements lay.  
The ivory doors than Vulcan doth desplay;  
And calls the Gods. The shamefully lay bound:  
Yet one, a wanton, wished to be so found.  
The heavenly dwellers laugh. This tale was told  
Through all the Round, and mirth did long uphold.  
Venus, incensed on him who this disclosed  
A memorable punishment imposed.  
And he, of late so tyrannous to Love,  
love's tyranny in just exchange doth prove.  
Hyperion's son, what boots thy piercing sight!  
Thy feature, colour, or thy radiant light!  
For thou, who earth inflamest with thy fires,  
Art now thyself inflamed with new desires.  
Thy melting eyes alone Leucothoê view;  
And give to her, what to the World is dew.  
Now, in the East thou hastnest thy uprise:  
Now, slowly sett'st; even loath to leave the skies.  
And, while that Object thus exacts thy stay,  
Thou addest hours unto the Winter's day.  
Oft, in thy face thy mind's disease appears;  
Affrighting all the darkened World with fears.  
Not Cynchia's interposed Orb doth move  
These pale aspects; this colour springs from love.  
She all thy thoughts engrossed: nor didst thou care  
For Clymen, c for her who Circe's bare,  
For Khodos, Clytie, who in love abounds,  
Although despised, though tortured with two wounds.  
All, all were buried in Leucothoen  
Borne in sweet Saba, of Eurynome.  
As she in beautic far surpassed all other:  
So much the Daughter far surpassed the Mother.  
Great Orchamus was Father to the Maid:  
Who, seventh from Belus Priscus, Persu●sway'd.  
In low Hisperian Vales those pastures are  
Where Phoebus' horses o● Ambrosrosia fare.  
There, tired with the travels of the day,  
They renovate what labour doth decay.  
Now, while celestial food their hu●●er seeds,  
And Night in her alternate reign succeeds;  
In figure of Eurynome, the God  
Approached the chamber, where his life abode.  
He, spinning by a lamp, Leucath o● found,  
With twice six handmaids, who enclosed her round.  
Then kissing her (her Mother now by Art)  
I have, said he, a secret to impart:  
Maids, presently withdraw. They all obeyed.  
He, after he had cleared the chamber, said▪  
The tardy Year I measure: I am he  
Who see all Objects, and by whom all see;  
The World's cloere eye: by thy fair solse, I swear,  
I love thee above thought. Shot shaken for fear;  
Her spindle and her distasse from her fell:  
And yet that fear became her wondrous well.  
Then, his own form and radiancy, he took:  
Though with that unexpected presence strookes  
Yet, vanquished by his beauty, her complaint  
She said aside, and suffered his constraint.  
This Clytic vexed (his love obsecured no measure)  
Who in the fury of her fell displeasure,  
Divulged the quickly-spreading infamy:  
And to her father doth the fact descry.  
Who stern and savage, shuts up all remorse,  
From her that'sued, subdued. she said, by force;  
And Sol to witness calls. He his dishonour  
Interres alive, and casts a Mount upon her.  
Hyperion's son this batters with his rays:  
And for her re-ascent a breach displays.  
Yet could not she advance her heavy head:  
But life, too hasty, from her body fled.  
Never did Phoel●us with such sorrow mourn  
Since wretched Bhoeton the World did burn:  
Yet strives he with his influence to beget  
In her cold lims'a life-rovoking heat.  
But, since the Fates such great attempts withstood;  
He steep's the place and body in a flood  
Offragrant Nectar: much bewails her end:  
And sighing, said; Yet shalt thou heaven ascend.  
Forthwith, her body thaws in to a dew:  
Which, from the moy stned earth, an odour threw.  
Then through the hill ashrub of Frankincense  
Thrust up his crown, and took his root from thence  
Though love might clyties sorrow have excused,  
Sorrow, her tongue; day's king her bed refused.  
She, with distracted passion, pines away,  
Detesteth company; all night, all day,  
Disrobed, with her ruffled hair vnbound,  
And wet with humour, fits upon the ground:  
For ●nelong days all sustenance for bears;  
Her hunger ●loyd with dew, her thirst with tears.  
Nor rose; but, ●●uets on the God her eyes;  
And ever turns her face to him that flies.  
At length, to earth her stupid body cleaves;  
Her wan complexion turns to bloodlesse-leaves;  
Yet streaked with red: her perished limbs beget  
A flower, resembling the pale Violet;  
Which, with the sun, though rooted fast, doth move;  
And, being changed, changeth not her love.  
Thus she. This wondrous story caught their cares;  
To some the same impossible, appears,  
Others, that all is possible, conclude,  
To true-styled Gods: but, Bacebus they extrude.  
All whist, Alcithoê, call'd-vpon, doth run  
Her shettle through the web; and thus begun.  
T'omit the pastoral loves, to few unknown,  
Of young Idaean Duphnis; turned to stone  
By that vexed Nymph; who could not else assuage  
Her jealousy: such is a lover's rage!  
And Scython who his nature in innovates,  
Now male, now female, by alternate Fates;  
With Celmus turned into an Adamant,  
Who of his faith to little love might vaunt;  
The shorn Curetes, got by falling showers;  
crocos and Smilax, changed to prerty flowers,  
I overpass; and will your ears surprise  
With sweet delight of unknown novelties.  
Then, know, how Salmacis in famous grew;  
Whose too strong waves all manly strength undo,  
And mollify, with their soule-sostning touch:  
The cause unknown; their nature known too much  
Th' ideaean Nymphs nursed, in secure delight,  
The son of Hermes and fair Aphrodite.  
His father and his mother in his look  
You might behold: from whom, his name he took.  
When Summer five he thrice had multiplied;  
Leaving the fountfull Hills of foster Ide,  
He wandered through strange Lands, pleased with the sight  
Of foreign streams; toil lessening with delight.  
The Lycian Cities passed, he treads the grounds  
Of wealthy Caria, which on Lycia bounds:  
There lighted on a Pool, so passing clear,  
That all the glittering bottom did appear;  
Environed with no marish-loving Reeds,  
Nor piked Bulrushes, nor barren weeds:  
But, living Turf upon the border grew;  
Whose ever-spring no blasting Winter knew,  
A Nymph this haunts, unpractised in the chase,  
To bend a Bow, or run a strife-full race.  
Of all the Water-Nimphs, this Nymph alone  
To nimble-footed Diana was unknown.  
Her sisters oft would say,; Fie, salmacis,  
Fie lazic sister, what a sloth is this!  
Upon a Quiver, or a javelin seize;  
And with laborious hunting mix thine ease.  
On Quiver, nor on javelin, would she seize;  
Nor with laborious hunting mix her ease,  
But now in her own Fountain baths her fair  
And shapefull lime; now combs her golden hair:  
Herself oft by that liquid mirror dressed  
There taking counsel what became her best:  
Her body in transparent Robes arrayed,  
Now on soft leaves, or softet moss displayed:  
Oft gathers flowers; so when she saw the Boy:  
Whom seen, forthwith she covets to enjoy;  
And yet would not approach, though big with haste,  
Till neatly tricked, till all in order placed;  
Her love-inueighling looks set to insoare;  
Who merited to be reputed fair.  
Sweet Boy, said she, well worthy the abode  
Of blessed coelestials! if thou be a God,  
Then art thou cupid! if of humane race,  
Happy the Parents, whom thy person grace!  
Thy sister, if thou hast a sister, blest!  
Thy Nurse, muchmore, who fed thee with her breast!  
But (o!) no less than deified is she  
Whom marriage shall incorporate to thee!  
If any such; let me this treasure steal:  
If not, be't ay; and our dear Nuptials seal.  
This said, she held her peace. He blushed for shame;  
Not knowing love: whom shamefacedness became.  
So Apples show upon the sunny side;  
So ivory, with rich vermilion died:  
So pure a red the silver Moon doth stain.  
When auxil'ary brass resounds in vain.  
She earnestly entreats a sister's kiss:  
And now, advancing to embrace her bliss,  
He, struggling, said; Lascivious Nymph, forbear;  
Or I will quit the place, and leave you hear.  
Fair Stranger, timorous salman is replied, I  
'Tis freely yours; and therewith stepped aside:  
Yet, looking back, amongst the shrubby Trees  
She closely skulks, and crouches on her knees.  
The vacant Boy, now being left alone,  
Imagining he was observed by none,  
Now here, now there, about the margin trips;  
And, in th'alluring waves his ankles dips.  
Caught with the Water's flattering temperature,  
He straight distobes his body; o, how pure!  
His naked beauty Salmacis amazed:  
Who with unsatisfied longing gazed.  
Her sparkling eyes shoot flames through this sweet error;  
Much like the Sun reflected by a mirror.  
Now, she impatiently her hope delays;  
Now, burns t'embrace: now, halfe-madde, hardly stays.  
He swiftly from the bank on which he stood,  
Clapping his body, leaps into the flood;  
And, with his rowing arms, supports his limbs:  
Which, through the pure waves, glister as he swims.  
Like ivory statues, which the life surpass;  
Or like a Lily, in a crystal glass.  
He's mine! the Nymph exclaimed: who all unstript;  
And, as she spoke, into the water skipped:  
Hanging about the neck that did resist;  
And, with a mastering force, th'unwilling kissed:  
Now, puts her hand beneath his scornful breast;  
Now every way invading the distressed:  
And wraps-about the subject of her lust,  
Much like a Serpent by an Eagle trussed;  
Which to his head and feet, enfettered, clings;  
And wreaths her tail about his stretcht-out wings.  
So clasping luy to the Oak doth grow;  
And so the Polypus detains his foe.  
But Atlantiades, relentless coy,  
Still struggles, and resists her hoped-for joy.  
Invested with her body: fool, said she,  
Struggle thou may'st; but never shalt be free.  
O you, who in immortal thrones reside,  
Grant that no day may ever us divide!  
Her wishes had their Gods. Even in that space  
Their cleaving bodies mix: both have one face.  
As when we two divided scions join,  
And see them grow together in one rind:  
So they, by such a strict embracement glued,  
Are now but one, with double form Endued.  
No longer he a boy, not she a maid;  
But neither, and yet either, might be said.  
Hermaphrodi●us at himself admires:  
Who half a female from the spring retires,  
His manly li●●s now softened; and thus prays,  
With such a voice as neither sex betrays:  
Swift Hermes, Ap●rodir●● him o hear  
Who was your son! who both your names doth bear!  
May every man, that in this water swims,  
Return halfe-woman, with enfeebled limbs.  
His gentle parents sign to his request;  
And with unknown receipts the spring infest.  
Here, they conclude: yet give their hands no rest;  
But Bacchus' slight, and still profane his Feast.  
Then, suddenly harsh instruments surprise  
Their, charged ears, not extant to their eyes:  
Sweet Myrrh and Saffron all the house perfume.  
Their webs (past credit!) flourish in the loom:  
The hanging wool to green-leaued Iuy spreads;  
Part, into vines: the equal twisted threads  
To branches run: buds from the dist●●●e shoot:  
And with that purple paint their blushing fruit.  
Now to the day succeeds that doubtful light;  
Which neither can be called day, nor night.  
The building trembles: torches of fat Pines  
Appear to burn; the room with flashes shines;  
Filled with fantastical resemblances  
Of howling beasts, whom blood and slaughter▪ please.  
The Sisters, to the smoky roof retire;  
And, there dispersed, a●o●d both ●ight and ●●re.  
Thus, while they corners seek, thin films extend  
From lightened limbs, with small beams inter-pend.  
But how their former shapes they did forgo,  
Concealing darkness would not let them know.  
Nor are these little Light-detesting things  
Born-up with feathers, but transparent wings.  
Their voice besits their bodies; small, and faint:  
Wherewith they harshly utter their complaint.  
These houses haunt, in night conceal their shame;  
And of the loved Evening take their name.  
All Thebes now feared Bacchus celebrates:  
Whose wondrous power his boasting Aunt relates.  
She only, of so many sisters, knew  
No grief as yet, but what from them she drew.  
A happy Mother, Wife to Athamas,  
Nurse to a God: these caused her to surpass  
The bounds of her felicities; and made▪  
Vexed juno storm; who to herself thus said;  
What? could that Strumpet's brat the form defeise▪  
Of poor Maeonian Sailors, drenched in Seas?  
A Mother urge to murder her own son?  
And wing the three Minenides that spun?  
Can I but un-revenged wrongs deplore?  
Must that suffice? and is our power no more?  
He teacheth what to do; learn of thy Foe:  
What fury can, the wounds of Pentheus show  
More than toomuch. Why should not I●o tread  
The path which late her frantic sisters lead?  
A steep dark Cave, with deadly Ewe reple●●,  
Through silence leads to hell's infernal seat.  
By this, dull Styx ejects a blasting furne:  
Here ghosts descend, whose bodies earth inhume;  
Amongst those thorns, stiff Cold, and Paleness dwell.  
The new-come ghosts nor know the way to Hell;  
Nor where the roomy Stygian City stands;  
Or that dire Palace where black Dis commands.  
A thousand entries to this City guide:  
The gates still open stand, on every side.  
And as all Rivers run into the Deep:  
So all unhoused Souls do thither creep.  
Nor are they pestered for want of room:  
Not can it be perceived that any come.  
Here shadows wander from their bodies penned:  
Some plead; and some the Tyrant's Court frequent;  
Some in life-practized Arts employ their times:  
Others are tortured for their former Crimes.  
Saturnia stooping from her Throne of Air  
(Her hate immortal!) thither makes repair.  
As soon as she had entered the gate,  
The threshold trembled with her sacred weight.  
Still-waking Cerberus the Goddess dreads,  
And barketh thrice at once, with his three heads.  
She calls the Furies, Daughters to old Night;  
Implacable, and hating all delight.  
Before the doors of Adamant they sit;  
And there with combs their snaky curls unknit.  
When they through gloomy darkness did disclose  
That form of Heaven, the Goddesses arose.  
The Dungeon of the Damned this is named.  
Here Tityus, for attempted Rape defamed,  
Had his vast body▪ on nine Acres spread:  
And on his heart a greedy Vulture fed.  
From Tantalus, deceitful water slips:  
And catcht-at fruit avoids his touched lips.  
Thou ever seekest, of roul'st up in vain  
A stone, o Sisyphus, to fall again.  
Ixion, turned upon a restless wheel,  
With giddy head purlieus his flying heel.  
The Besides, whom kins-men's blood accuse,  
For ever draw the Water; which they lose.  
On all, Saturnia frowns; but most of all  
At thee Ixion; then, a look le's fall  
On Sisyphus: And why (said she) remains  
This brother only in perpetual pains;  
When haughty Athamas, whose thoughts despise  
Both jove and me, abides in constant joys?  
Then tells the cause of her approach, her hate,  
And what she would: the fall of Cadmus' state;  
That Athamas the Furies would distract,  
And urge him to some execrable fact.  
Importunately she soliciteth,  
Commands, intreats, and promised, with one breath.  
Incensed Tisiphone her Tresses shakes;  
And, tossing from her face the hissing Snakes,  
Thus said: Younced not use long ambages;  
Suppose all done already, that may please:  
Forsake this jothsome Kingdom, and repair  
To th'upper world's more comfortable air.  
Well-pleased Saturnia then to heaven withdrew:  
Whom first Thaumantian Iris purged with dew.  
Forthwith, Tis●phone her garment takes,  
Dropping with blood, and girt with knotted Snakes.  
About her head a bloody torch she shook;  
And swiftly those accursed abodes forsook.  
Sull-sighing Sorrow, Horror, trembling Fear,  
And ghastly Madness, her associates were.  
The entered Palace groaned: pale poison soils  
The polished doors: the frighted Sun recoils.  
Then Athamas and Ino, struck with dread  
And monstrous apparitions, sought t'have fled:  
But stern Erinnys▪ their escape withstands;  
And stretchingout her viper-grasping hands,  
Shook her dark brows. The troubled Serpents hist:  
Some, falling on her shoulders, there untwist;  
Others, upon her ugly breast descend,  
Spit poison, and their forked tongues extend.  
Two Adders from her crawling hair she drew;  
And those at Athamas and Ino threw:  
These up and down about their bosom's roll;  
And with infused infection sad the Soul.  
No wound upon their bodies could be found:  
It was the mind that felt the desperate wound.  
She brought beside, from her abhorred ho●e,  
The surfeit of Echidna, with the foam  
Of hellbred Cerberus, still-wandring Error,  
Oblivion, Mischief, Tears, in fernall Terror,  
Distracted Fury, an Affection fixed▪  
On murder; altogether ground, and mixed▪  
With blood yet recking; boiled in hollow brass,  
And stirred with Hemlock. While sad Athamas  
And ●no quake, she pours into their breasts  
The rageful poison; which their peace infests.  
Her flamy torch then whisking in a round  
(Whose circulary fire her conquest crowned)  
To plutoes empty regiment she makes  
A swift descent; and there ungirts her Snakes.  
Forth with, Aeolides with poyso● boyles.  
I●, my Mates, he cries, here pitch your toils;  
Here, late a Lioness by me was seen  
With her two whelps. With that, pursues the Quee●  
And from her breast Clearchus snatched: The Child  
Stretch ●forth his little arms, and on him smiled:  
Whom like a sling about his head he swings;  
And cruelly against the pavement flings.  
The Mother, whether with her grief distraught▪  
Or that the poison on her senses wrought,  
●uns howling with her hair about her ears;  
And in bare arms her Melicerta bears;  
Cries Euohe Bacchus! juno l●ught, and said;  
Thus art thou by thy Foster-child repaid.  
There is a Rock that overlooks the Main,  
●ollow'd by fretting Surges, s●onst from rain;  
Whose craggy brow to vaster Seas extends.  
This, Ino (fury adding strength) ascends;  
Descending headlong, with the load she bears;  
And strikes the sparkling waves, that fall in tears.  
Then▪ Venus, grieving at her Neece's Fate,  
●er Uncle thus entreats: O thou, whose State  
Is next to Jove's▪ great Ruler of the Flood;  
My suit is bold; yet pity thou my blood,  
Now tossed in the deep Ionian Seas:  
And join them to thy wa●rie Deities.  
Some favour of the Sea I should obtain,  
That am engendered of the ●omy Maine:  
Of which, the acceptable name I bear.  
Neptune affords a favourable ear;  
Who what was mortal from their beings took;  
Then gave to either a Majestic look;  
In all their faculties divinely framed:  
And her, 〈◊〉; him, Paleman named▪  
The Theban Ladies, who her steps pursewed,  
Her last on the first Promontory viewed.  
Then, held for dead; with hair, and garments rend,  
They beat their breasts; and Cadmus' House lament.  
Of little justice, and much Cruelty.  
All, juno tax. Endure (she said) shall I  
Such blasphemies? I'll make you monuments▪  
Of my revenge. Threats usher their events.  
When one, of all the most affectionate,  
Cried, O my Queen, I will partake thy Fate!  
And thought to leap into the roaring Flood;  
But could not move: her feet fast●fixed stood.  
Another, who her bosom meant to beat;  
Perceived her stiff'ned arms to lose their heat.  
By chance, her hand This stretcheth to the Main;  
Nor could her hand, now sto●e, unstretch again.  
As She her violated Tresses tore,  
Her fingers forthwith hardened in her hair.  
Their Statues now those several gestures bear.  
Wherein they formerly surprised were.  
Some, Fowls became; now called Cadmenides;  
Who with their light wings sweep those gulphy Seas.  
Little knew Cad●us, that his Children reigned▪  
In sacred Seas, and deathless States retained.  
Subdued with woes, with tragical events,  
That had no end, and many dire ostents,  
He leaves his City; as not through his own,  
But by the fortune of the place o'erthrown:  
And with his wife Hermione, long tossed,  
At length arriveth at th● Illyrian Coast.  
Now spent with grief and age, whilst they relate▪  
Their former toils, and Familie's first fate:  
And was that Serpent sacred, which I slew  
(Said he) whose teeth into the Earth I threw  
(An uncouth seed) when I from Sidon came?  
If this, the vengeful Gods so much inflame,  
May I my belly Serpentlike extend!  
His belly lengthened, ere his wish could end.  
Tough scales upon his hardened outside grew;  
The black, distinguished with drops of blue.  
Then, falling on his breast, his thighs unite;  
And in a spiny progress stretch outright.  
His arms (for, arms as yet they were) he spreads:  
And tears on cheeks, that yet were humane, sheds.  
Come, O Sad Soul, said he; thy husband touch;  
Whilst I am I, or part of me be such.  
Shake hands, while yet I have a hand to shake;  
Before I totally endue a Snake.  
His tongue was yet in motion; when it cleft  
In two, forthwith of humane speech bereft.  
He hist, when he his sorrows sought to vent;  
The only language now which Nature lent.  
His Wife her naked bosom beats, and cries,  
Stay Cadmus, and put off these prodigies.  
O strange! where are thy feet, hands, shoulders, breast,  
Thy colour, face, and (while I speak) the rest!  
You Gods, why also am not I a Snake?  
He licked her willing lips even as she spoke;  
Into her well known bosom glides; her waste,  
And yielding neck, with loving twines embraced.  
Amazement all the standers-by possessed;  
While glittering combs their slippery heads invest.  
Now are they two: who crept, together chained,  
Till they the covert of the Wood attained.  
These gentle Dragons, knowing what they were,  
Do hurt to no man, nor man's presence fear.  
Yet were those sorrows by their daughter's son  
Much comforted, who vanquished India won:  
To whom th' Achaians Temples consecreate;  
Divinely magnified through either State.  
Alone Acrisius Abantrades,  
Though of one Progeny, dissents from these:  
Who, from th' Argolian City, made his fly;  
And managed arms against a Deity.  
Nor him, nor Pers●us he for Jove's doth hold;  
(Begot on Danaen in a shower of gold)  
Yet strait reputes (so prevalent is truth)  
Both to have forced the God, & doomed the Youth.  
Now is the one enthroned in the skies:  
The other through air's empty Region flies;  
And bears along the memorable spoil  
Of that new Monster, conquered by his toil.  
And as he o'er the Lybian Deserts flew,  
The blood, that drops from Gorgen's head, straight gre●●  
To various Serpents, quickened by the ground:  
With these, those much infested Climes abound.  
Hither and thither, like a cloud of rain  
Borne by cross winds, he cuts the airy Main;  
Far-distant earth beholding from on high;  
And over all the ample World doth fly:  
Thrice saw Aroturus, thrice to Cancer pressed;  
Oft harried to the East, oft to the West.  
And now, not trusting to approached night,  
Upon th' Hesperian Continent doth light:  
And craves some rest, till Lucifer displays  
Aurora's blush, and she Apollo's rays.  
Huge-statured Atlas japetonides  
Here swayed the utmost bounds of Earth and Seas;  
Where Titan's panting steeds his Chariot steep,  
And bathe their fiery feetlocks in the Deep.  
A thousand Herds, as many Flocks, he fed  
In those large Pastures, where no neighbours tread.  
Here to their tree the shining branches suit;  
To them, their leaves; to those, the golden fruit.  
Great King, said Perseus, if high birth may move  
Respect in thee, behold the son of jove:  
If admiration, than my Acts admire;  
Who rest, and hospitable Rites desire;  
He, mindful of this prophecy, of old  
By sacred Themis of Parnassus told;  
In time thy golden fruit a prey shall prove,  
O japhets' son, unto the son of jove.  
This fearing, he his Orchard had enclosed  
With solid Cliffs, that all access opposed:  
The Guard whereof a monstrous Dragon held;  
And from his Land all Foreigners expelled.  
Be gone, said he, for fear thy glories prove,  
But counterfeit; and thou no son to jove;  
Then adds uncivil violence to threats.  
With strength the other seconds his entreats:  
In strength inferior; Who so strong as he?  
Since courtesy, nor any worth in me,  
Vexed Perseus said, can purchase my regard;  
Yet from a guest receive thy due reward.  
With that, Medusa's ugly head he drew,  
His own reversed. Forthwith, Atlas grew:  
Into a Mountain equal to the man:  
His hair and beard to woods and bushes run▪  
His arms and shoulders ' into ridges spread;  
And what was his, is now the Mountains head:  
Bones turn to stones; and all his parts extrude  
Into a huge prodigious altitude.  
(Such was the pleasure of the ever-blest)  
Whereon the heavens, with all their tapers, rest.  
Hippotades in hollow rocks did close  
The strife-full Winds: Bright Lucifer ●ose  
And rous'd-vp Labour. Perseus, having tied  
His wings t' his feet, his falchion to his side,  
Sprung into air: below, on either hand  
Innumerable Nations left: the Land  
Of Aethiop, and the Cephe● fields surveyed;  
There, where the innocently wretched maid  
Was for her mother's proud impiety,  
By unjust Ammon sentenced to die.  
Whom when the Heros saw to hard rocks chained;  
But that warm tears from charged eye-springs drained.  
And light winds gently fanned her fluent hair,  
He would have thought her marble: Ere aware  
He fire attracteth; and, astonished by  
Her beauty, had almost forgot to fly.  
Who lighting said; O fairest of thy kind  
(More worthy of those bands which Lovers bind,  
Than these rude gyves) the Land by thee renowned,  
Thy name, thy birth declare; and why thus bound.  
At first, the silent Virgin was afraid  
To speak t' a man; and modestly had made  
A vizard of her hands; but, they were tied:  
And yet abortive tears their fountains hide.  
Still urged, lest she should wrong her innocence,  
As if ashamed to utter her offence,  
Her Country she discovers; her own name;  
Her beauteous Mother's confidence, and blame.  
All yet untold, the Waves began to roar:  
Th' apparent Monster (hastening to the shore)  
Before his breast, the broadspred Sea up-beares.  
The Virgin shrieks. Her Parents see their fears.  
Both mourn; both wretched (but, she justly so:)  
Who bring no aid, but ecstasies of woe,  
With tears that suit the time: Who take the leave  
They loathe to take; and to her body cleave.  
You for your grief may have, the stranger said,  
A time too long: short is the hour of aid.  
If freed by me, Jove's son, in fruitful gold  
Begot on Dana● through a brazen Hold;  
Who conquered Gorgon with the snaky hair;  
And boldly glide through un-inclosed air:  
If for your son you then will me prefer;  
Add to this worth, That in delivering her;  
I'll try (so favour me the Powers divine)  
That she, saved by my valour, may be mine.  
They take a Law; entreat what he doth offer:  
And further, for a Dowry their Kingdom proffer.  
Lo! as a Galley with fore-fixed prow  
(Rowed by the sweat of slaves) the Sea doth plow:  
Even so the Monster furroweth with his breast,  
The foaming flood; and to the near Rock pressed:  
Not farther distant, than a man might fling  
A way-inforcing bullet from a sling.  
Forthwith, the youthful issue of rich showers,  
Earth pushing from him, to the blue sky towers.  
The furious Monster eagerly doth chase  
His shadow, gliding on the Seas smooth face.  
And as Jove's bird, when she from high surveys  
A Dragon basking in Apollo's rays;  
Descends unseen, and through his necks blue scales  
(To shun his deadly teeth) her talons nails:  
So swiftly stoops high-pitcht Inachides  
Through singing air: then on his back doth sears;  
And near his right sin sheaths his crooked sword  
Up to the hilts; who deeply wounded, roared:  
Now caper's in the air, now diues below  
The troubled waves; now turns upon his foe:  
Much like a chafed ●Bore, whom eager hounds  
Have at a Bay, and terrify with sounds.  
He, with swift wings, his greedy jaws avoids;  
Now, with his falchion wounds his scaly sides;  
Now, his shell-rough-cast back; now, where the tail  
Ends in a Fish, or parts exposed t'assail.  
A stream mixed with his blood the Monster flings  
From his wide throat; which wets his heavy wings:  
Nor longer dares the wary Youth rely  
On their support. He sees a rock hard by,  
Whose top above the quiet waters stood;  
But underneath the winde-incensed flood.  
There lights; and, holding by the rocks extent,  
His oft-thrust sword into his bowels sent.  
The shore rings with th' applause that fills the sky.  
Then, Cepheus and Cassiope, with joy,  
Salute him for their son: whom now they call  
The Saviour of their House, and of them all.  
Up came Andromeda, freed from her chains;  
The cause, and recompense of all his pains.  
Meanwhile, he washeth his victorious hands  
In cleansing waves. And lest the beachy Sands  
Should hurt the snaky head, the ground he strew  
With leaves and twigs that under water grew:  
Whereon, Medusa's ugly face he lays.  
The green, yet ivicy, and attractive sprays  
From the touched Monster stiffning hardness took;  
And their own native pliancy forsook.  
The Sea-Nymphs this admired wonder try  
On other Sprigs, and in the issue joy:  
Who sow again their Seeds upon the Deep.  
The Coral now that property doth keep,  
Receiving hardness from felt air alone:  
Beneath the Sea a twig, above a stone.  
Forthwith, three Altars he of Turf erects,  
To Hermes, jove, and Her who war affects:  
Minerua's on the right; on the left hand  
Stood mercury's: Jove's in the midst did stand.  
To Mercury, a Calf they sacrifice;  
To jove, a Bull; a Cow, to Pallas dies:  
Then takes Andromeda, the full reward  
Of so great worth; with dower, of less regard.  
Now, Love and Hymen urge the Nuptial Bed:  
The sacred Fires with rich perfumes are fed;  
The house hung round with Garlands; every where  
Melodious Harps and Songs salute the ear;  
Ofiocond mirth the free and happy signs:  
With Doors displayed, the golden Palace shines.  
The Cephen Nobles, and each stranger Guest,  
Together enter to this sumptuous Feast.  
The Banquet done, with generous wines they cheer  
Their heightened spirits: Perseus longs to hear  
Their fashions, manners, and original;  
Who, by Lyncides is informed of all.  
This told; he said: Now tell, O valiant Knight,  
By what felicity of force or sleight,  
You got this purchase of the snaky hairs.  
Then Abantiades forthwith declares,  
How under frosty Atlas' cliffy side  
There lay a Plain, with Mountains fortified:  
In whose access the Phorcides did lie;  
Two sisters; both of them had but one eye:  
How cunningly his hands thereon he laid,  
As they from one another it conveyed.  
Then through blind wastes, and rocky forests came  
To Gorgon's house: the way unto the same,  
Beset with forms of men and beasts, alone  
By seeing of Medusa turned to stone:  
Whose horrid shape securely he did eye,  
In his bright targets clear refulgency.  
And how her head he from her shoulders took,  
Ere heavy sleep her snakes and her forsook.  
Then told of Pegasus, and of his brother,  
Sprung from the blood of their new-slaughtred mother:  
Adding the perils passed in his long way;  
What seas, what soils, his eyes below survey;  
And to what stars his lofty pitch ascends:  
Yet long afore their expectation ends.  
One Lord among the rest would gladly know,  
Why Serpents only on her head did grow.  
Stranger, said he, since this that you require  
Deserves the knowledge, take what you desire:  
Her passing beauty was the only scope  
Of men's affections, and their envied hope:  
Yet was not any part of her more rare  
(So say they who have seen her) than her hair.  
Whom Neptune in Minerua's Fane compressed.  
Jove's daughter, with the Ae●is on her breast,  
Hid her chaste blushes: and due vengeance takes,  
In turning of the Gorgon's hair to Snakes.  
Who now, to make her enemies afraid,  
Bears in her shield the Serpents which she made.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The fifth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THe Gorgon seen, Cepheni Statues grow:  
So Phineus Peaetus, ●olydect, the foe  
To Perseus' praise. The fountain Hippocrene  
By Horsehoofe raised. The Muses into Nine  
Rape-flying Birds: Pierides, to Pies.  
The Gods, by Typhon cha●'t, themselves disguise.  
Sad ●yane into a Fountain flows.  
Th' ill-nurtured Boy a spotted Stellion grows.  
Loved Arethusa th●●es into a spring.  
A scalaphus an 〈◊〉 Light feathers wing  
〈…〉 Siren's, who an Water's 〈◊〉  
Stern Lyneus Ceres to a Lynx doth turn.  
Whilst the Dana●an Heros this relates,  
Amidst th' assembly of the Cephen States;  
Exalted voices through the Palace ring:  
Not like to theirs who at a marriage sing;  
But such as menace war. The nuptial Feast,  
Thus turned to tumult, to the life express  
A peaceful Sea, whose brow no frown deforms,  
Straight ruffled into billows by rude storm▪  
First▪ hineus', the rash Author of this war,  
Shaking a Lance; began the deadly jar.  
Lo, I the man, that will upon thy life  
Revenge, said he, the rapture of my wife.  
Nor shall thy wings, nor jove inforged gold,  
Work thy escape. About to throw: O hold!  
Perplexed Cepheus cries: What wilt thou do?  
What fury, frantic brother, tempts thee to  
So foul a fact? Is this the recompense  
For such high merit? for her life's defence?  
Not Perseus, but th' incensed Nereids,  
But horned Hammon, and the wrath of Seas  
(That Ork that sought my bowels to devour)  
Have snatched her from thee; ravished in the hour  
Of her exposure. But thy cruelty  
Perhaps was well content that she should die,  
To ease thy loss with ours. May't not suffice,  
That she was bound in chains before thine eyes;  
That thou, her Uncle, and her Husband, brought  
Her peril no prevention, nor none sought;  
But that another's aid thou must envy,  
And claim the Trophies of his victory?  
Which, if of such esteem, thou shouldst have strained  
T' have forced them from those Rocks, where lately chained.  
Let him, who did, enjoy them: nor exact  
What is his dew by merit and compact.  
Nor think, we Perseus before thee prefer;  
But him, before so abhorred a sepulchre.  
He, without answer, rolling to and fro  
His eyes on either, doubts at which to throw:  
And pausing, his ill-aymed lance at length  
At Perseus hurls, with rage-redoubled strength,  
Fixed in the bed-stock; up fierce Perseus starts,  
And his retorted Spear at Phineus darts:  
Who suddenly behind an Altar stepped;  
An Altar vengeance from the wicked kept:  
And yet in Rhoetus brow the weapon stuck.  
He fell: the steel out of his scull they pluck:  
Who spurns the earth, and stains the board with blood,  
With that, the multitude, with fury wood,  
Their Lances fling, and some there be who cry,  
That Cepheus, and his son in law, should die.  
But Cepheus wisely quits the clamorous Hall:  
Who Faith and justice doth to record call,  
With all the hospitable Gods; that he  
Was from this execrable uproar free.  
The warlike Pallas, present, with her shield  
Protects her Brother, and his courage steeled.  
Young Indian Atys by ill hap was there,  
Whom Ganges-got Limniace did bear  
In her clear Waves: his beauty excellent,  
Which c●re and costly ornaments augment:  
Who scarce had fully sixteen Summers told:  
Clad in a Tyrian mantle, fringed with gold.  
About his neck he wore a carquenet:  
His hair with Ribbon bound, and odours wet.  
Although he cunningly a Dart could throw▪  
Yet with more cunning could he use his Bow.  
Which now adrawing with a tardy hand;  
Quick Perseus from the Altar snatched a Brand,  
And dashed it on his face: out-start his eyes;  
And through his flesh the shivered bones arise.  
When Syrian Lycabas his Atys viewed,  
Shaking his formless looks, with blood embrued:  
To him in strictest bonds of friendship tied,  
And one who could not his affection hide:  
After he had his tragedy bewailed;  
Who through the bitter wound his soul exhaled:  
He took the Bow, which crst the Youth did bend;  
And said; With me, thou Murderer contend;  
Nor longer glory in a boy's sad fate,  
Which stains thy actions with deserved hate,  
Yet speaking, from the string the arrow flew:  
Which took his plighted robe, as he withdrew  
Acrisioniades upon him pressed;  
And sheathed his Harpy in his groaning breast.  
Now dying, he for Atys looks, with eyes  
That swim in night; and on his bosom lies:  
Then cheerfully expires his parting breath:  
Rejoicing to be joined to him in death.  
Phorbas the Syennit, Methion's son  
With him the Libyan Amphimedon;  
Eager of combat, slipping in the blood.  
That drenched the pavement, fell: his sword withstood  
Their re-ascent, which through the short-ribs smote  
Amphimedon, and cut the others throat.  
Yet Perseus would not venture to invade  
the Halbertere Eritheu● with his blade;  
But in both hands a Goblet high embossed  
And massy, took; which at his head he cost:  
Who vomits clotted blood; and, tumbling down,  
Knocks the hard pavement with his dying crown.  
Then Polydaemon (sprung from Goddesse-borne  
Semiramis) Phlegyas, the unshorn  
Elyce, Clitus, Scythian Aba●is,  
And brave Lycetus (old Sperchesiu● bliss)  
Fell by his hand: whose foet in triumph tread  
Upon the slaughtered bodies of the dead.  
But Phineus, fearing to confront his Foe  
In close assault, far-off a dart doth throw▪  
Which led by error, did on I da light;  
A Neuter, who in vain forbore to fight.  
He, sternly frowning, thus to Phineus spoke:  
Since you, me an unwilling party make,  
Receive the enemy whom you have made;  
That, by a wound, a wound may be repaid.  
About to hurl the Dart, drawn from his side;  
With loss of blood he faints, and falling died.  
Then, great Odytes fell by Clyman's sword;  
Next to the King the greatest Cephen Lord:  
Hypsaeus slew Prot●nor; Ly●●edes  
Hyps●us. Old Emathion fell with these;  
Who feared the Gods, and favoured the right.  
He, whom old age exempted from the fight,  
Fights with his tongue, himself doth interpose,  
And deeply execrates their wicked blows.  
Cromis, as he embraced the Altar, lopped  
His shaking head; which on the Altar dropped:  
Whose half-dead tongue yet curses; & expire●  
His righteous soul amidst the sacred Fires.  
Then B●●tëas and Ammon, Phineus slew;  
Who from one womb at once their being dre●●:  
Invincible with hurlebats, could they quell  
The dints of swords Near these Alphytus fell,  
The Priest of Ceres, with a Mitre crowned;  
Which to his temples a white fillet bound.  
And thou Lampelides, whose pleasant wit,  
Detesting discord, in soft peace more fit  
To sing unto thy tuneful Lyre; now pressed  
With Songs to celebrate the nuptial Feast:  
When Pettalus, at him who stood far off  
With his defenselesse Harp; strikes with this scoff;  
Go sing the rest unto the Ghosts below:  
And pierced his Temples with a deadly blow.  
His dying fingers warble in his fall:  
And then, by chance, the Song was tragical.  
This, unrevenged, Lycormas could not brook;  
But from the door's right side a Leaver took,  
And him between the head and shoulders knocks:  
Down falls he, like a sacrificed Ox.  
Ciniphean Palates than sought to seize  
Upon the left: when fierce Marmorides  
His hand nailed to the door-post with a Spear:  
Whose side stern Abas pierced as he stuck there.  
Nor could he fall; but, giving up the ghost,  
Hung by the hand against the smeared post.  
Melaneus then, of Perseus' party, fell;  
And Dorilas, whose riches did excel:  
In Nasoemoniae none than he more great  
For large Possessions, and huge hoards of Wheat.  
The steel stuck in his groin, which death pursewed:  
Whom Halcyoneus of Bactria viewed  
(The Author of the wound) as he did roll  
His turn'd-vp eyes, and sighed-out his soul:  
For all thy land, said he, by this divorce  
Receive thy length; and left his bloodless corpse.  
The Spear, revengeful Abantides drew  
From his warm wound; and at the Thrower threw:  
Which in the middle doth his nares divide;  
And, passing through, appeared on either side.  
Whilst Fortune crowned him, Clytiu● he confounds  
And Danus, of one womb, with different wounds:  
Through Clytius thighs a ready Dart he cast;  
An other 'twixt the jaws of Danus past.  
Minde●●an Celadon and A●ter slew,  
His Father doubtful, gotten on a jew:  
Echion, late well seen in things to come,  
Now overtaken by an unknown doom:  
Thoactes, Phineus Squire, his falchion tried:  
And fell Agyrtes, that fouled parricide.  
Yet more remained than were already spent:  
For, all of them, to murder one, consent  
The bold Conspirators on all sides fight;  
Impugning promise, merit, and his right.  
The vainely-pious Father sides with th'other;  
With him, the frighted Bride, and pensive Mother●;  
Who fill the Court with outcries; by the sound  
Of clashing Arms, and dying screeches drowned  
Bellona the polluted floor imbrews  
With streams of blood, and horrid war renews.  
False Phineus, with a thousand, in a ring  
Begirt the Heros: who their Lances fling  
As thick as Winter's hail; that blind his sight,  
Sing in his ears, and round about him light.  
His guarded back he to a pillar sets;  
And with undaunted force confronts their threat●●  
Chaonian Molpeus pressed to his left side:  
The right, Nabathean Ethemon plied  
As when a Tiger pinched with famine, heares  
Two bellowing Herds within one Vale; for bears▪  
Nor knows on which to rush, as being loath  
To leave the other, and would fall on both:  
So Perseus, which to strike, uncertain proues;  
Who daunted Molpeus with a wound removes;  
Contented with his flight, in that the rage.  
Of fierce Ethemon did his force engage:  
Who at his neck uncircumspectly struck,  
And his keen sword against the pillar broke.  
The blade from unrelenting stone rebounds;  
And in his throat th' unhappy owner wounds▪  
Yet was not that enough to work his end;  
Who fearfully doth now his arms extend  
For pity unto Perseus, all in vain;  
Who thrust him through with his Cyrenian skein  
But, when he saw his valour overswayed  
By multitude: I must, said he, sec● aid  
(Since you yourselves compel me) from my foe;  
Friends turn your backs: then G●rgons head doth sh●●▪  
Some others seek, said Thessalus, to fright  
With this thy Monster; and with all his might  
A deadly dart endeavoured to have thrown:  
But in that positure became a stone.  
Next, Amphix, full of spirit, forward pressed;  
And thrust his sword at bold Lyncides' breast:  
When, in the pass, his fingers stupid grow;  
Nor had the power of moving to or fro.  
But Nileus (he who with a forged style  
Vaunted to be the son of sevenfold Nile,  
And bore seven sihier Rivers in his shield,  
Distinctly waving through a golden field)  
To Perseus said: Behold, from whence we sprung▪  
To ever-silent shadows bear along  
This comfort of thy death, that thou didst die  
By such a brave and high borne enemy.  
His utterance faltered in the latter clause:  
The yet unfinished sound struck in his jaws;  
Who gaping stood as he would something say:  
And so had done, if words had sound a way.  
These Eryx blames; 'Tis your faint souls that dead  
Your powers, said he, and not the Gorgon's head.  
Rush on with me, and prostrate with deep wounds  
This Youth, who thus with Magic Arms confounds▪  
Then rushing on, the ground his footsteps stayed;  
Now mutely fixed: an armed Statue made.  
These suffered worthily. One, who did fight  
For Perseus, bold Aconteus, at the sight  
Of Gorgon's snakes abortive marble grew.  
On whom Astyages in fury flew,  
As if alive, with his twohanded blade;  
Which shrilly twanged; but not incision made:  
Who, whilst he wonders, the same nature took,  
And now his Statue hath a wondering look.  
It were too tedious for me to report  
Their names, who perished of the vulgar sort.  
Two hundred 'scaped the fury of the fight:  
Two hundred turn to stone at Gorgon's fight.  
Now Phineus his unjust commotion rues:  
What should he do? The senseless shapes he views  
Of his known friends, which differing figures boar▪  
And doth by name their several aid implore.  
And yet not trusting to his eyes alone,  
The next he touched; and found it to be stone.  
Then turns aside: and now, a Penitent,  
With suppliant hands, and arms obliquely bend;  
O Perseus, thine said he, thine is the day!  
Remove this Monster. Hence O hence convey  
Medusa's ugly looks, or what more strange,  
Which humane bodies into marble change!  
Not hate, not thirst of rule begot this strife:  
I only fought to reobtain my Wife.  
Thine is the plea of Merit; mine, of Time:  
Yet, in contending I confess my crime  
For life (O chief of men) I only sew:  
Afford me that: the rest I yield to you.  
Thus he; not daring to revert his eyes  
On him whom he entreats: who thus replye●.  
Faint-hearted Phineus, what I can afford,  
(A gift of worth to such a fearful Lord)  
Take courage, and persuade thyself I will:  
No wounding sword thy blood shall ever spill.  
Moreover, that I may thy wish prevent,  
Here will I fix thy lasting monument:  
That thou by her thou lov'st mayst still be seen;  
And with her Spouse's image cheer our Queen.  
Then, on that side Phoreynis head doth place,  
To which the Prince had turned his trembling face,  
And as from thence his eyes he would have thrown▪  
His neck grew stiff: his tears congeal to stone.  
With fearful suppliant looks, submissive hands,  
And guilty countenance, the Statue stands.  
Victorious Aban●iade● now hies  
This native City, with the rescued prize:  
There, vengeance takes on Proetus, and restored  
His Grandfather; whose wrongs redress implored▪  
For Proetus had by force of Arms expelled  
His brother; and usurped Argos held.  
But him, nor Arms, not Bulwarks, could protect  
Against the snaky Monsters grim aspect.  
Yet not the virtue of the Youth, which shone  
Through so great toil, nor sorrows under-gone;  
With thee, O Polydecte●, King of small  
Sea-girt Seriphus, could prevail at all.  
Endless thy wrath, thy hate inexorable:  
Detracting; and condemning for a fable  
Medusa's death. The moved Youth replies:  
The truth yourself shall see; Friends, shut your ey●●▪  
Then, represents Medusa to his view:  
Who presently a bloodless Statue grew.  
Thus long Tritonia to her brother cleaves:  
Then in a hollow cloud Seriphus leaves  
(Scyros and Gyaros on the right-hand side)  
And o'er the toiling Seas her course applied  
To Thebes, and Virgin Helecon; there stayed:  
And thus unto the learned Sisters said.  
The fame of your new Fountain, raised by force:  
Of that swift-winged Medusaean horse,  
Me hither drew, to see the wondrous Flood:  
Who saw him issue from his Mother's blood.  
Goddess, Urania answered, what cause  
Soever you to this our Mansion draws,  
You are most welcome. What you heard is true;  
And from that Pegasus this Fountain grew.  
Then Pallas to the sacred Spring conveyed,  
She admires the waters by the horsehoofe made;  
Suruay's their high-grown groves, cool caves, fresh bow●●,  
And meadows painted with all sorts of flowers:  
Then happy styles she the Maeonides,  
Both for their Arts, and such abodes as these.  
O heavenly Virgin, one of them replied,  
Most worthy our Society to guide,  
If so your active virtue did not move.  
To greater deeds: deseru'dly you approve  
Our studies, pleasant seat and happy state,  
Were we secure from what we chiefly hate.  
Venus a Fish, a Stork did Hermes hide:  
And still her voice unto her Harp applied▪  
Then call they us. But, ours perhaps to hear,  
Not leisure serves you, nor is't worth your care.  
Doubt not, said Pallas, orderly repeat  
Your longed for Verse; and takes a shady seat.  
Then she; On one we did the task impose:  
Calliope, with Iuy crowned up-rose;  
Who with her thumb first tuned the quavering strings,  
And then this Ditty to the music sings.  
The gleab, with crooked plough, first Ceres rend;  
First gave us corn, a better nourishment;  
First Laws prescribed: all from her bounty sprung.  
By me, the Goddess Ceres shall be sung.  
Would We could Verses, worthy her, rehearse:  
For she is more than worthy of our Verse.  
Trinacria was on wicked- Typhon thrown;  
Who underneath the Land's weight doth gron●▪  
That durst affect the Empire of the skies:  
Oft he attempteth, but in veins, to rise.  
Ausonian P●lorn● his right hand  
Down weighs; Pachyne on the left doth stand;  
His legs are under Lilybaeus spread;  
And Aetna's bases charge his horrid head:  
Where, lying on his back, his jaws expire  
Thick clouds of dust, and vomit flakes of fire,  
Oft times he struggles with his load below:  
And Towns, and Mountains labours to o'erthrow  
Earthquakes therewith▪ the King of shadows dreads,  
For fear the ground should split above their heads,  
And letin Day ●●affright the trembling Ghosts.  
For this, he from his silent Empire posts,  
Drawn by black horses; tracing all the Round  
Of rich Sicilia; but, no breaches found.  
Him Erycina from her Mount surveyed  
(Now fearless) and, her son embracing, said.  
My Arms, my strength, my glory; for my sake,  
O Cupid, thy all-conquering weapons take;  
And fix thy winged arrows in his heart,  
Who rules the triple world's inferior part.  
The Gods, even jove himself; the God of waves;  
And who illustrates earth have been thy slaves.  
Shall Hell be free? Thine, and thy mother's Sway  
Enlarge, and make th' internal Powers obey,  
Yet we (such is our patience) are despised  
In our own heaven; and all our force unprized.  
Seest thou not Pallas, and the Queen of Night,  
Far-darting Diana; how my worth they slight?  
And Ceres daughter will a Maid abide,  
If we permit; for she affects their pride.  
But, if thou favour our joint Monarchy,  
Thy Uncle to the Virgin-goddess tie  
Thus Venus. He his Quiver doth unclose;  
And one, out of a thousand arrows, chose  
At her Arbitrament: a sharper head  
None had; more ready, or that surer sped.  
Then bends his Bow: the string this ear arrives,  
And through the heart of This the arrow drives.  
Not far removed from Enna's high-built wall,  
A Lake there is, which men Pergusa call.  
Cäyster's slowly-gliding waters bear  
Far fewer singing Swans than are heard there.  
Woods crown the Lake, and cloth it round about  
With levy veils, which Phoebus beams keep-out.  
The trees create fresh air, th'Earth various flowers:  
Where heat nor cold th'eternal Spring devours.  
Whilst in this grove Proserpina disports,  
Or Violets pulls, or Lilies of all sorts;  
And while she strove with childish care and speed  
To fill her lap, and others to exceed;  
Dis saw, affected, carried her away,  
Almost at once. Love could not brook delay.  
The sad-faced Goddess cries (with fear appalled)  
To her Companions; oft her Mother called.  
And as she tore th'adornment of her hair,  
Down fell the flowers which in her lap she bore.  
And such was her sweet Youth's simplicity,  
That their loss also made the Virgin cry.  
The Ravisher flies on swift wheels; his horses  
Excites by name, and their full speed enforces:  
Shaking for haste the rust-obscured reigns  
Upon their coal-black n●●ks, and shaggy manes.  
Through Lakes, through Palicine, which expires  
A sulphurous breath, through earth engendering fires,  
They pass to where Corinthian Bacchides  
Their City built between unequal Seas.  
The Land 'twixt Aret●●sa and Cy●ne  
With stretcht-out horns begirts th'included Sea.  
Here Cyane who gave the Lake a name,  
Amongst Sicilian Nymphs of special fame,  
Her head advanced: who did the Goddess know?  
And boldly said, You shall no farther go;  
Nor can you be unwilling Ce●es son:  
What you compel, persuasion should have won.  
If humble things I may compare with great;  
Anapis loved me: yet did he entreat,  
And me, not frighted thus, espoused. This said,  
With outstretched arms his farther passage stayed.  
His wrath no longer Pluto could restrain;  
But gives his terror-striking steeds the reign;  
And with his Regal mace, through the profound  
And yielding water, cleaves the solid ground:  
The breath t'infernall Tartarus extends:  
At whose dark jaws the Chariot descends.  
But Cyane the Goddess Rape laments;  
And her own injured Spring; whose discontents.  
Admit no comfort: in her heart she bears  
Her silent sorrow: now, resolves to tears;  
And with that Fountain doth incorporate,  
Whereof th'immortal Deitic but late.  
Her softened members thaw into a dough:  
Her nails less hard, her bones now limber grew.  
The slenderest parts first melt away: her hair,  
Fine fingers, legs, and feet; that soon impair,  
And drop to streams: then, arms, back, shoulders, side▪  
And bosom, into little Currents glide.  
Water, in stead of blood, fills her pale veins:  
And nothing now, that may be grasped, remains.  
Meanwhile, through all the earth, and all the Main,  
The fearful Mother sought her child in vain.  
Not deawy-hayred Aurora, when she rose,  
Nor Hesperus, could witness her repose.  
Two pitchy Pines at flaming Ae●na lights;  
And restless, carries them through freezing Nights:  
Again, when Day the vanquished Stars suppressed,  
Her vanished comfort seeks from East to West.  
Thirs●y with travel, and no Fountain nigh,  
A cottage thatched with straw, invites her eye.  
At th'humble gate she knocks: An old wife shows  
Herself thereat; and seeing her, bestows  
The water so desired; which she before  
Had boiled with barley. Drinking at the door,  
A rude hard-favoured Boy beside her stood,  
Who laughed, and called her greedy-gut. Her blood  
Inflamed with anger, what remained she threw  
Full in his face; which forthwith speckled grew.  
His arms convert to legs; a tail withal  
Spines' from his changed shape: of body small,  
Lest he might prove too great a foe to life:  
Though less, yet like a Lizard: th'aged wife  
(That wonders, weeps, and fears to touch it) shuns,  
And presently into a crevice runs.  
Fit to his colour they a name elect;  
With sundry little stars all-overspeckt.  
What Lands, what Seas, the Goddess wandered through  
Were long to tell: Earth had not room enough.  
To Sicil she returns: where ere she goes,  
Inquires; and came where Cyane now flows.  
She, had she not been changed, all had told;  
Now, wants a tongue her knowledge to unfold:  
Yet, to the mother, of her daughter gave  
A sure ostent: who bore upon a wave  
Persepbone's rich zone; that from her fell,  
When, through the sacred Spring, she sunk to hell.  
This seen, and known; as but then lost, she tore,  
Without self-pity, her dissheveled hair;  
And with redoubled blows her breast invades:  
Nor knows what Land t'accuse, yet all upbraids;  
Ingrate, unworthy with her gifts t'abound:  
Tri●acria chiefly; where the steps she found.  
Of her misfortunes. Therefore there she broke  
The furrowing plough; the Ox and owner strake  
Both with one death; then, bade the fields beguile  
The trust imposed, shrunk seed corrupts. That soil,  
So celebrated for fertility,  
Now barren grew: corn in the blade doth die.  
Now, too much drought annoys; now, lodging showers:  
Stars smitch, winds blast. The greedy fowl devours  
The new-sowne grain: Kintare, and Darnell tyre  
The fettered Wheat; and weeds that through it spire.  
In Elean waves Alphaeus Love appeared;  
And from her dropping hair her forehead cleared:  
O Mother of that far-sought Maid, thou friend  
To life, said she; here let thy labour end:  
Nor be offended with thy faithful Land;  
That blameless is, nor could her rape withstand.  
ay, here a guest, not for my Country plead:  
My Country Pisa is, in Elis bred;  
And, as an Alien, in Sicania dwell:  
But yet no Country pleaseth me so well:  
I Arethusa, now these Springs possess:  
This is my seat: which, courteous Goddess, bless.  
Why I affect this place, t' Ortrgia came  
Through such vast Seas; I shall impart the same  
To your desire; when you, more fit to hear,  
Shall quit your care, and be of better cheer.  
Earth gives me way: through whose dark caverns rolled,  
I here ascend; and unknown stars behold.  
While under ground by Styx my waters glide,  
Your sweet Proserpina I there espied.  
Full sad she was: even than you might have seen  
Fear in her face: and yet she is a Queen;  
And yet she in that gloomy Empire sways;  
And yet her w●ll th'infernal King obeys.  
Stone-like stood Ceres at this heavy news;  
And, staring, long continued in a muse.  
When grief had quickened her stupidity,  
She took her Chariot, and ascends the sky:  
There, veiled all in clouds, with scattered hair,  
She kneels to jupiter, and made this prayer.  
● Both for my blood and thine, o jove, I sew:  
If I be nothing gracious, yet do you  
A Father to your Daughter prove; nor be  
Your care the less, because she sprung from me.  
Lo, she at length is found, long sought through all▪  
The spacious World; if you a Finding call  
What more the loss assures: but if, to know  
Her being, be to Find, I have found her so.  
And yet I would the injury remit,  
So he the stolen restore: 'Twere most unfit  
That holy Hymen should thy daughter join.  
To such a Thief; although she were not mine.  
Then jove: The pledge is mutual, and these cares  
To either equal: Yet this deed declares  
Much love, miscalled Wrong: nor should we shame  
Of such a son, could you but think the same.  
All wants suppose, can he be less than great,  
And be Jove's brother? What, when all complete?  
ay, but preferred by lot? Or if you burn  
In endless spleen; Let Proserpina return:  
On this condition, That she yet have ta'en  
No sustenance: so Destinies ordain.  
To fetch her daughter, Ceres' posts in haste:  
But, Fates withstood: the Maid had broke her fast.  
For, wand'ring in the Ort-yard, simply she  
Plucked a Pomegranet from the stooping Tree;  
Thence took seven grains and eats them one by one:  
Observed by Ascalaphus alone;  
Whom A●●eron on Orphne erst begot  
In pitchy Caves▪ a Dame of special note  
Amongst th' Auernal Nymphs. This uttered, stayed  
The sighing Queen of Erebus who made  
The Blab a Bird: with waves of Phleg●t●n  
His face besprinkles; 〈◊〉 appears thereon,  
Crooked beak, and broader eyes: the shape he had  
He lost, forthwith in yellow feathers clad.  
His head or'e-sized, his long nails talons prove;  
His winged arms for laziness scarce move:  
A filthy, ever ill-presaging Fowl,  
To Mortals ominous: a screeching Owl.  
Yet was the punishment no more than due  
To his offence. But how offended you  
Acheloides that wings and claws disgrace,  
Your goodly forms, yet keep your Virgin-face?  
Was it, you Sirens, that your deathless Powers  
Were with the Goddess when she gathered flowers?  
Whom when through all the Earth you sought in vain,  
You wished for wings to swim upon the Main;  
That pathless Seas might testify your care:  
The easy Gods consented to your prayer.  
Straight, golden feathers on your backs appear:  
But, left that music, framed to inchant the ear,  
And so great gifts of speech should be profaned;  
Your Virgin-lookes, and humane voice remained.  
But jove, his sister's discontent to cheer,  
Between her and her Brother parts the year,  
The Goddess now in either Empire sways:  
Six months with Ceres, six with Pluto stays.  
Proserpina then changed her mind, and look  
(Late such as sullen Dis could hardly brook)  
And cleared her brows; as Sol, obscured in shrowds  
Of exhalations, breaks through vanquished clouds.  
Pleased Ceres now bade Arethusa tell  
Her cause of flight: and why a sacred Well.  
Th'obsequious waters left their murmuring:  
The Goddess then above the Crystall-Spring  
Her head advanced; and, wring her green hairs,  
She thus Alphaeus ancient love declares.  
ay, of Achaia once a Nymph: none more  
The chase affected, or t'intoyle the Boar.  
By beauty though I never sought for fame;  
Though masculine; of fair I bore the name.  
Nor took I pleasure in my praised face,  
Which others value as their only grace:  
But, simple, was ashamed to excel;  
And thought it infamy to please too-well.  
As from Stymphalian woods I made retreat  
('Twas hot, and labour had increased the heat)  
When well-nigh tired; a silent stream I found,  
All eddilesse, perspicuous to the ground:  
Through which you every pebble might have seen;  
And ran, as if it had no River been.  
The Poplar, and the hoary Willow, fed  
By bordering streams, their grateful shadow spread▪  
In this cool Rivulet my foot I dipped;  
And by and by into the middle skipped:  
Where, while I swim, and labour to and fro  
A thousand ways, with arms that swiftly row,  
I from the bottom heard and unknown tongue;  
And frighted, to the hither margin sprung.  
Whither so fast, o Arethusa! twice  
Out cried Alphaeus, which a hollow voice.  
Unclothed as I was, I ran away  
(For, on the other side my garments lay)  
The faster followed he, the more did burn;  
Who naked, seem the readier for his turn.  
As trembling Doves the eager Hawks eschew;  
As eager Hawks the trembling Doves pursue;  
I fled, He followed. To Orchomenus,  
Psophis, Cyllene, high-browed Maenalaus,  
Cold Erymanthus, and to Elis, I  
My flight maintained; nor could he come nigh:  
But, far unable to hold out so long;  
He, patient of much labour, and more strong.  
And yet o'er Plains, o'er woody hills I fled,  
And craggy Rocks, where foot did never tread.  
The Sun was at our backs: before my feet  
I saw his shadow; or my fear did seced.  
Howe'er his sounding steps, and thick drawn breath  
That fanned my hair, affrighted me to death.  
Stark tired, I cried: Ah caught! help (o forlorn!)  
Diana help thy Squire, who oft have borne  
Thy Bow and Quiver! Moved at my request.  
With muffling clouds she covered the distressed.  
The River seeks me in that pitchy shroud,  
And searches round about the hollow cloud:  
Twice came to where Diana me did hide;  
And twice he Iô Arethusa cried.  
Then what a heart had I! the Lamb so fears  
When howling Wolves about the Fold she hears▪  
So heartless Hare, when trailing Hounds draw nigh  
Her scented form; nor dares to move and eye.  
Nor went he on, in that he could not trace  
My further steps; but guards the cloud and place.  
Cold sweats my then-besieged limbs possessed:  
In thin thick-falling drops my strength decreased.  
Where-ere I step, streams run; my hair now fell  
In trickling dew; and sooner than I tell  
My destiny, into a Flood I grew.  
The River his beloved waters knew;  
And, putting off th'assumed shape of man,  
Resumes his own; and in my Current ran.  
Chaste Delia cloven the ground. Then, through blind cau●●,  
To loved Ortygia she conducts my waves;  
Affected for her name: where first I take  
Review of day. This, Arethusa spoke.  
The fertile Goddess to her Chariot chains  
Her yoked Dragons, checked with stubborn reigns:  
Her course, 'twixt heaven and earth, to Athens bends;  
And to Triptolemus her Chariot sends.  
Part of the seed she gave, she bade him throw  
On untilled earth; part on the tilled to sow.  
O'er Europe, and the Asian soil conveyed,  
The Youth to Scythia turns; where Lyncus swayed.  
His Court he enters. Asked what way he came,  
His cause of coming, Country, and his Name:  
Triprolemus men call me, he replied;  
And in renowned Athens I reside.  
No ship through toiling Seas me hither bare;  
Nor over-land came I; but through the air.  
I bring you Ceres' gift: which sown in fields,  
Corn-bearing crops (a better feeding) yields.  
The barbarous King envies it: and, that he  
The Author of so great a good might be;  
Gives entertainment: but, when sleep oppressed  
His heavy eyes, with steel attempts his breast.  
Whom Ceres turns t'a Lynx: and home-wards makes  
The young Mopsopian drive her sacred Snakes.  
Our Chief concluded here her learned Lays.  
The Nymphs, with one consent, give us the Bays:  
The vanquished rail. To whom the Muse: Since you  
Esteem it nothing to deserve the due  
To your contention, but must add foul words  
To your ill deeds; nor this your pride affords  
Our patience room: we'll wreak it on your heads,  
And tread the path which Indignation leads.  
The Paeons laugh, and our sharp threats despise.  
About to scold, and with disgraceful noise  
To clap their hands; they saw the feathers sprout  
Beneath their nails, and cloth their arms throug●●▪  
Hard nebs in one another's faces spy;  
And now, new birds, into the Forest fly.  
These Sylvan Scolds, as they their arms prepare  
To beat their bosoms; mount, and hang in air.  
Who yet retain their ancient eloquence;  
Full of harsh chat, and prating without sense.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The sixth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
PAllas, an old-wife, 〈◊〉 is thoughts o'erthrow  
Haemus and Rhodope; who Mountains gr●w.  
The Pigmy, a Crane, Antigo●e become,  
A Stork, A statue 〈…〉:  
His impious daughters, stones. In various shapes  
The Gods commit adulteries and rapes▪  
Arachne, a Spider. Niche yet drowns  
Her marble cheeks in tears. Vnci●ill Clowns  
Are cursed to Frogs. From 〈…〉  
His ivory shoulder now-made Pelops 〈◊〉.  
P●ogne, a Swallow; signed with murder's 〈◊〉  
Sad Philomela to secret might complains▪  
Rage to a Lapwing turns th'Odrysian king,  
Calais and Zetes natius 〈…〉.  
TRitonia to the Muse attention lends:  
Who both her Verse, and just revenge 〈◊〉  
Then said t'her self: To praise is of no worth▪  
Let our revenged Pour our praise set forth.  
Intends Arathnes ruin. She, she heard,  
Before her curious webs, her own preferred.  
Nor dwelling, nor her nation fame impart  
Unto the Damsel, but excelling Art.  
Derived from Colophonian Idmons side;  
Who thirsty Wool in Phocian purple ●ide.  
Her mother (who had paid her debt to fate)  
Was also mean, and equal to her mate.  
Yet through the Lydian towns her praise was spread;  
Though poor her birth, in poor Hypaepa bred.  
The Nymphs of Tmolus oft their Vines forsook;  
The sleek Pactolian Nymphs their streams; to look  
On her rare works: nor more delight in viewing  
The don (done with such grace) than when a doing.  
Whether she orbe-like roll the ruder wool;  
Or, finely fingered, the selected cull▪  
Or draw it into clowd-resembling flakes;  
Or equal twine with swift-turned spindle makes;  
Or with her lively-painting needle wrought:  
You might perceive she was by Pallas taught.  
Yet such a Mistress her proud thoughts disclaim:  
Let her with me contend; if foiled, no shame  
(Said she) nor punishment will I refuse.  
Pallas, forthwith, an oldwives shape endues:  
Her hair all white; her lime, appearing weak,  
A staff supports: who thus began to speak.  
Old Age hath something which we need not shun:  
Experience by long tract of time is won.  
Scorn not advice: with dames of humane race  
Contend for same, but give a Goddess place.  
Crave pardon, and she will thy crime remit.  
With eyes confessing rage, a●d eyebrows knit,  
(Her labour-leaving hands scarce held from strokes)  
She, masked Pallas with these words provokes.  
Old fool, that dotest with age; to whom long-life  
Is now a curse: thy daughter, or son's wife,  
(if thou hast either) ●aught be they by this▪  
My wisdom, for myself, sufficient is.  
And lest thy counsel should an interest claim  
In my diversion, I abide the same.  
Why comes she not? why trial thu● delays?  
She comes, said Pallas▪ and herself displays.  
Nymphs, and M●gdomian dames the Pour adore:  
Only the maid herself undaunted boar:  
And yet she blush; against her will the red  
Flushed in her cheques, and thence as swiftly flood.  
Even so the purple Morning paints the skies:  
And so they whi●●n at the Sun's uprise.  
Who now▪ as desperately obstinate,  
Praise ill affecting, runs on her own fate.  
No more Ioues daughter labours to dissuade;  
No more refuseth; nor the strife delayed.  
Both settle to their tasks apart: both spread  
At once their warps, consisting of fine thread,  
Tied to their beams: a reed the thread divides,  
Through which the quick-returning shuttle glides,  
Shot by swift hands. The combs inserted tooth  
Between the warp suppressed the rising woof:  
Strife lessening toil. With skirts ruckt to their waste,  
Both move their cunning arms with nimble haste.  
Here crimson, died in Tyrian brass, they wove:  
The scarce distinguished shadows sight deceive.  
So marry clouds, shot by Ap●llo, show;  
The vast sky painted with a mighty Bow:  
Where, though a thousand several colours shine,  
No eye their close transition can define:  
What touch, the same so nearly represents;  
And by degrees, scarce sensible, dissents.  
Throughout embellished with ductil gold:  
And both revived antiquities unfold.  
Pallas in Athens, Marse's Rock doth frame:  
And that old strife about the City's name.  
Twice six Coelestials sit enthroned on hic,  
replete with awe-infusing gravity:  
jove in the midst. The suited figures took  
Their lively forms: jove had a regal look.  
The Sea-god stood, and with his Trident strake  
The cleaving rock, from whence a fountain broke:  
Whereon he grounds his cla●●. With spear and shield  
Herself she arms: her head a mu●●ion steild:  
Her breast her Aegis guards. Her lance the ground  
Appears to strike, and from that pregnant wound  
The hoary olive, charged with fruit, ascends.  
The Gods admire: With victory she ends.  
Yet she, to snow the Rival of her praise  
What hopes to cherish for such bold assays,  
Add's four contentions in the utmost bounds  
Of every angle, wrought in little Rounds.  
One, Thracian Rhodope and 〈◊〉 show●●,  
Now mountains, topped with never-melting showe●,  
Once humane bodies: who durst emulate  
The blessed coelestials both in style and state.  
The next contains the miserable doom  
Of that Pygmi●an marron, overcome  
By juno; made a Ctane, and forced to ●ar  
With her own nation in perpetual was.  
A third presents Antigone, who strove  
For unmatched beauty with the wife or jove.  
Not Ilium, nor ●anmedon her sire,  
Prevailed with violent S●●●rnia's ire.  
Turned to a Stork; who, with white pinions raised,  
Is ever by her creaking bill selfe-praised.  
In the last circle Cynaras was placed;  
Who, on the temples stairs, the forms embraced  
Of his late daughters, by their pride o'erthrown:  
And seems himself to be a weeping stone.  
The web a wreath of peaceful ●live bounds:  
And her own tree her work both ends and crowns.  
Arachne weaves Europa's rape by Iou●:  
The Bull appears to live, the Sea to move.  
Back to the shore she casts a heavy eye;  
To her distracted damsels seems to cry:  
And from the sprinkling waves, that skip to meet.  
With such a burden, shrinks hor 〈◊〉 embling feet.  
Asteria there a struggling Eagle pressed▪  
A Swan here spreads his wings o'er Leda's breast.  
jove, Satyr-like, Antiope compels;  
Whose fruitful womb with double ●ssue swells:  
Amphitryo for Alemena's love became:  
A shower for Da●al; for Aegina flame:  
For beautiful Muemosyne he tak●●  
A pastors form; for Deois, 〈◊〉.  
Thee also, Neptune, like a lustful S●ete,  
She makes the fair Ae●tian Virgin bear:  
To get th' Aloide's in Enip●'s shape:  
Now turned t'a Ram in sad Bisaltis' rape.  
The gold-haired mother of life-strengthening Seed●,  
The snake-haired 〈◊〉 of the winged Steed,  
Found thee a Stallion thee Malanth● finds  
A Delphin. She to every son assigns  
Life-equald looks; to every place their sites.  
Here Phoebus in a Heardsmans' shape delights▪  
A Lion's now; now falcons wings displays:  
Macarian Issa shepheard-like betrays.  
Liber, a grape, Erigone compressed:  
And Saturn, horselike, Chiro● gets, halfe-beast.  
A slender wreath her finished web confines:  
I lours intermixed with clasping i●y twines.  
Not Pallas this, not Envy this reproves:  
Her fair success the vex● Virago moves;  
Who tears the web, with crimes celestial fraught.  
With sh●●tle from Cytorian mountains brought,  
Arachne thrice upon the forehead hits.  
Her great heart brooks it not. A cord she knits  
About her neck. Remorseful Pallas stayed  
Her falling weight: Live wretch, yet hang, she said.  
This curse (lest after times thy pride secure)  
Still to thy issue, and their race, endure.  
Sprinkled with Hecate's baneful weeds, her hair  
She forthwith sheds: her nose and ears impair;  
Her head grows little; her whole body so;  
Her thighs and legs to spiny fingers grow:  
The rest all belly. Whence a thread she sends:  
And now, a Spider, her old webs extends.  
All Lydia storms; the fame through Phygia rung:  
And gave an argument to every tongue.  
Her, Niobe, had known; when she, a maid,  
In Sipylus and in Maonia stayed.  
Yet slights that home example: still rebels  
Against the Gods; and with proud language swells.  
Many things swelled her. Yet Amphi●●s town,  
Their high descents; not glory of a crown,  
So pleased her (though she pleased herself in all)  
As her fair race. We Niobe might call  
The happiest mother that yet ever brought  
Life unto light; had not herself so thought.  
Tiresian Manto, in presages skilled,  
The streets, inspired by holy fury, filled  
With these exhorts: Ismenides, prepare:  
To great Latona, and her Twins; with prayer  
Mix sweet perfumes; your brows with Laurel binds▪  
By me Latona bids. The Thebans wind  
About their temples the commanded Bay:  
And sacred fires, with incense feeding, pray▪  
Behold, the Queen in height of state appears:  
A Phrygian mantle, weau●d with gold, she wears:  
Her face, as much as rage would suffer, fair.  
She stops; and shaking her dishevelled hair,  
The godly troop with haughty eyes surveys.  
What madness is it Heresay Gods (she says)  
Before the seen Coelestials to prefer?  
Or while I Altars want, to worship her?  
Me Tantalus begot, aloud to feast  
In heavenly bowers; my mother not the least  
Pleias greatest Atlas' fire to those,  
On whose high shoulders all the stars repose.  
jove is my other Grandfather; and he  
My father in law: a double grace to me.  
Me Phrygia, Cadmus' kingdoms me obey:  
My husband's harp-raised walls we jointly sway.  
Throughout my Court behold in every place  
Infinite riches! add to this, a face  
Worthy a Goddess. Then, to crown my joys▪  
Seven beauteous daughters, and as many boys:  
All these by marriage to be multiplied.  
Say now, have we not reason for our pride?  
How dare you then Latona, Caeus birth  
Before me place? to whom the ample Earth  
Denied a little spot t'vnlade her womb?  
Heaven, Earth, nor Seas, afford your Goddess room:  
A Vagabond, till Delas' harbour gave.  
Thou wanderest on the land, I on the wave,  
It said; and granted an unstable place.  
She brought forth two; the seventh part of my race▪  
Happy! who doubts? I happy will abide:  
Or who doubts that? with plenty fortified.  
My state too great for fortune to bereave:  
Though much she ravish, she much more must leave.  
My blessings are above low fear. Suppose  
Some of my hopeful sons this people lose,  
They cannot be reduced to such a few.  
Off with your bays; these idle Rites eschew.  
They put them off; the sacrifice forbore:  
And yet Latona silently adore.  
As far as free from barrenness, so much  
Disdain and grief th'enraged Goddess touch.  
Who on the top of Cynthus thus begins  
To vent her passion to her sacred Twins.  
Lo I, your mother, proud in you alone;  
(Excepting juno, second unto none)  
Am questioned if a Goddess: and must lose,  
If you assist not, all religious dews.  
Nor is this all: that cursed Tantalian Seeds  
Adds soul reproaches to her impious deed.  
She dares her children before you prefer;  
And calls me childless: may it light on her!  
Whose wicked words her father's tongue declar●  
About to second her report with prayer;  
Peace, Phoebus said, complaint too long delays  
Conceived revenge: the same vexed Phoebe says.  
Then swiftly through the yielding air they glide  
To Cadmus' towers; whom thickened vapours hide.  
A spacious plain before the city lie●.  
Made dusty with the daily exercise  
Of trampling hoofs; by strife-full chariots track.  
Part of Amphion's active sons here backed  
High-bounding steeds; whose rich caparison  
With scarlet blushed, with gold their bridles shone.  
Ismenus joe, her pregnant wombs first spring▪  
As with his ready horse he bears a Ring,  
And checks his foamy jaws; ay me ●he cries;  
While through his gro●ing breast an arrow fly●●▪  
His bridle slackening with his dying force,  
He leisurely sinks side-long from his horse.  
Next, Siphilus from clashing quiver flie●  
With slackened reigns: as when a Pilot spies  
A growing storm; and, lest the gentle gaile  
Should scape besides him, claps on all his sail.  
His haste th'unevitable bow O'ertook,  
And through his throat the deadly arrow struck.  
Who, by the horse's mane and speedy thighs  
Drops headlong, and the earth in purple dies.  
Now Phoedimus; and Tantalus the heir  
This Grandsire's names; that labour done, prepare  
To wrestle. Whilst with oiled limbs they pressed  
Each others power, close grasping breast to breast;  
A shaft, which from th'impulsive bowstring flew,  
Them, in that sad Conjunction jointly slew.  
Both groan at once, at once their bodies bend  
With bitter pangs, at once to earth descend:  
Her tongue, and palate robbed of inward heat  
At once congeal: her pulse forbears to beat:  
Her neck wants power to turn, her feet to go,  
Her arms to move: her very bowels grow  
Into a stone. She yet retains her tears.  
Whom strait a hurlewind to her Country bears;  
And fixes on the summit of a hill.  
Now from that mourning marble tears distil.  
Th'exemplary revenge struck all with fear:  
Who offerings to Latona's altars bear  
With doubled zeal. When, one as oft befalls,  
By present accidents the past recalls.  
In fruitful Lyci● once, said he, there dwelled  
A sort of Peasants, who her vengeance felt.  
'Twas of no note, in that the men were base:  
Yet wonderful I saw the pool, and place,  
Signed with the prodigy. My father, spent  
Almost with age, ill brooking travel, sent  
Me thither for choice Steers: and for my guide  
A native gave. Those pastures searched, we spied  
An ancient Altar, black with cinders; placed  
Amidst a Lake, with shivering reeds embraced.  
O favour me▪ he, softly murmuring, said:  
O favour me! ay, softly murmuring, prayed:  
Then asked, if Nymph, or Faun therein reside,  
Or rural God. The stranger thus replied.  
O youth, no mountain Powers this altar hold:  
She calls it hers, to whom Ioues wife, of old,  
Earth interdicted: till that floating I'll,  
Wave-wandring Delo, finished her exile.  
Where, couched on palms and olives, she in spite  
Of fretful juno, brought her Twins to light.  
Thence also, frighted from her painful bed,  
With her two infant Deities she fled.  
Now in Chimara-breeding Lycia (fired  
By burning beams) and with long travel tired.  
Heat-raised thirst the Goddess sore oppressed:  
By their exhausting of her milk increased.  
By fortune, in a dale, with longing eyes  
A Lake of shallow water she descries:  
Where Clowns were then a gathering picked weeds,  
With shrubby osiers, and plash-loving reeds.  
Approached; Titania kneels upon the brink:  
And of the cooling liquor stoops to drink.  
The Clowns withstood. Why hinder you, said she,  
The use of water, that to all is free?  
The Sun, air, water, Nature did not frame.  
Peculiar; a public gift I claim.  
Yet humbly I entreat it: not to drench  
My weary limbs, but killing thirst to quench.  
My tongue wants moisture, & my jaws are dry:  
Scarce is there way for speech. For drink I dye.  
Water to me, were Nectar. If I live,  
'Tis by your favour: life with water give.  
Pity these babes: for pity they advance  
Their little arms! their arms they stretched by chanc●  
With whom would not such gentle words prevail?  
But they, persevering to prohibit, rail;  
The place with threats command her to forsake.  
Then with their hands and feet disturb the lake:  
And leaping with malicious motion, move  
The troubled mud; which rising, floats above.  
Rage quenched her thirst: no more Latona sues▪  
To such base slaves: but Goddesse-like doth use  
Her dreadful tongue; which thus their fates employed:  
May you for ever in this lake reside!  
Her wish succeeds. In loved lakes they strive;  
Now sprawl above, now under water dive;  
Oft hop upon the bank, as oft again.  
Back to the water: nor can yet restrain  
Their brawling tongues; but setting shame aside;  
Though hid in water, under water chide.  
Their voices still are hoarse: the breath they fetch  
Swells their wide throats; their jaws with railing stretch.  
Their heads their shoulders touch; no neck between,  
As intercepted. All the back is green▪  
Their bellies (every part o're-sizing) white.  
Who now, new Frogs, in slimy pools delight.  
Thus much, I know not by what Lycian, said:  
An other mention of a Satire made,  
By Phoebus, with Tritena's reed, overcome:  
Who for presuming felt a heavy doom.  
Why do you (oh!) me from myself distract?  
(Oh!) I repent, he cried: Alas! this fact  
Deserves not such a vengeance! Whilst he cried;  
Apollo from his body stripped his hide.  
His body was one wound, blood every way  
Streams from all parts: his sinews naked lay.  
His bare veins pant: his heart you might behold;  
And all the fivers in his breast have told.  
For him the Fauns, that in the forests keep;  
For him the Nymphs, and german Satyrs weep:  
His end, Olympus (famous then) bewails;  
With all the shepherds of those hills and dales▪  
The pregnant Earth conceiveth with their tears;  
Which in her penetrated womb she bears,  
Till big with waters: then discharged her fraught▪  
This purest Phrygian Stream a way out sought.  
By down-falls, till to toiling seas he came:  
Now called Marsyas of the Satyr's name.  
The Vulgar, these examples told, return  
Unto the present: for Amphion mourn,  
And his poor issue. All the mother hate.  
Pelops alone laments his sister's fate.  
While with torn garments he presents his woes,  
The ivory piece on his left shoulder shows.  
This fleshy was, and coloured like the right.  
Slain by his fire, the Gods his limbs unite:  
His scattered parts all found; save that alone  
Which interposed the neck and shoulder bone.  
They then with ivory supplied th' unsound:  
And thus restored Pelops was made sound.  
The neighbouring princes meet: the Cities near  
Entreat their kings the desolate to cheer.  
Pelops Mycaene, Sparta, th' Argive State;  
And Calydon, not yet in Diana's hate;  
Fertile Orehemenes; Corinthus famed  
For high-prized brass; Messene, never tamed;  
Cleona; Patra; Pylos, Nelius crown;  
And Troezen, not then known for Pittl●us town;  
With all that two-seaed Isth●os straits include:  
And all without by two-seaed Isthmos viewed.  
Athens alone (who would believe't) withheld:  
Thee, from that civil office, war compelled.  
Th' inhabitants about the Pontic coast  
Had then besieged thee with a barbarous host:  
Whom Thracian Tereus, with his Aids, o'erthrew;  
And by that victory renowned grew.  
Potent in wealth, and people; from the loins  
Of Mars derived: Pandion Progne joins  
To him in marriage. This, nor juno blest;  
Nor Hymen, nor the Graces graced that feast.  
Eumenideses the nuptial tapers light  
At funeral fires; and made the bed that Night.  
Th' ill-boding Owl upon the roof was set.  
Progne and Tereus with these omens met:  
Thus parents grew. The Thracians yet rejoice;  
And thank the Gods with harmony of voice.  
The marriage day, and that of Itys birth,  
They consecreate to universal mirth.  
So lies the good unseen. By this the Sun,  
Conducting Time, had through five Autumns run:  
When flattering Progne thus allures her Lord.  
If I have any grace with thee, afford.  
This favour, that I may my sister see:  
Send me to her, or bring thou her to me.  
Promise my father that with swiftest speed  
She shall return. If this attempt succeed,  
The sum of all my wishes I obtain.  
He bids them launch his ships into the main:  
Then makes th' Athenian port with sails and oars;  
And lands upon the wished Pyraean shores.  
Brought to Pandion's presence, they salute.  
The King with bad presage begins his suit.  
For lo, as he his wife's command recites,  
And for her quick return his promise plights,  
Comes Phi●omela; clad in rich array;  
More rich in beauty. So they use to say  
The stately Naiads, and Dryads go  
In Sylvan shades; were they apparelled so.  
This sight in Tereus such a burning breeds,  
As when we fire a heap of hoary reeds;  
Or catching flames to Sun-dryed stubble thrust.  
Her face was excellent: but inbred lust  
Enraged his blood; to which those Climes are prone:  
Stung by his country's fury, and his own.  
He straight intends her women to entice,  
And bribe her Nurse to prosecute his vice;  
Herself to tempt with gifts; his crown to spend:  
Or ravish, and by war his rape defend.  
What dares he not, thrust on by wild desire?  
Nor can his breast contain so great a fire.  
Racked with delay, he Progue's suit renews:  
And for himself in that pretention sues.  
Love's made him eloquent. As oft as he  
Exceeded, he would say, Thus charged she.  
And moving tears (as she had sent them) sheds.  
O Gods! how dark a blindness overspreds  
The souls of men! whilst to his sin he climbs,  
They think him good; and praise him for his crimes.  
Even Philomela wished it! with soft arms  
She hugs her father, and with winning charms  
Of her life's safety, her destruction pressed:  
While Tereus by beholding prepossessed.  
Her kisses and embraces heat his blood;  
And all afford his fire and fury food.  
And wished, as oft as she her fire embraced,  
He were her sire: nor would have been more chaste.  
He, by their importunities is wrought.  
She, overjoyed, her father thanks: and thought  
Herself and sister in that fortunate,  
Which drew on both a lamentable fate.  
The labour of the Day now near an end,  
From steep Olympus Phoebus' Steeds descend.  
The boards are princely screwed: Lyans flows  
In burnished gold. Then take their soft repose.  
And yet th' Odrysian King, though parted, fries:  
Her face and graces ever in his eyes.  
Who parts unseen unto his fancy feigns;  
And feeds his fires: Sleep flies his troubled brains▪  
Day up: Pandion his departing son  
Wrings by the hand; and weeping, thus begun.  
Dear Son, since Piety this dew requires;  
With her, receive both your and their desires.  
By faith, alliance, by the Gods above,  
I charge you guard her with a father's love:  
And suddenly send back (for all delay  
To me is death) my ages only stay.  
And daughter ('tis enough thy sister's gone)  
For pity leave me not too long alone.  
As he imposed this charge, he kissed withal:  
And drops of tears at every accent fall.  
The pledges then of promised faith demands  
(Which mutually they give) their plighted hands.  
To Progue, and her little boy, said he,  
My jove remember, and salute from me.  
Scarce could he bid farewell: sobs so engage  
His troubled speech; who dreads his soul's presage.  
● As soon as shipped; as soon as active oars  
Had moved the surges, and removed the shores;  
she's ours! with me my wish I bear! he cries.  
Exults; and barbarous, scarce defers his joys:  
His eyes fast fixed. As when Ioues eagle bears  
A Hare t'her eyrie, trust in rapeful fears:  
And to the trembling prisoner leaves no way  
For hoped flight; but still beholds her pray.  
The Voyage made; on his own land he treads:  
And to a Lodge Pandions' daughter leads;  
Obscured with woods: pale, trembring, full of fears;  
And for her sister ask now with tears.  
There mues her up; his foul intent makes known:  
Enforced her; a weak Virgin, and but one.  
Help father! sister help! in her distress  
She cries; and on the Gods, with like success.  
She trembles like a lamb, snatched from the fangs  
Of some cell wolf; that dreads her former pangs:  
Or as a dove, who on her gorget bears  
Her bloods fresh stains, and late-felt talents fears.  
Restored unto her mind, her ruffled hair,  
As at a woeful funeral she care;  
Her arms with her own fury bloody made:  
Who, wring her upheaved hands, thus said.  
O monster! barbarous in thy horrid lust!  
Treacherous Tyrant! whom my father's trust;  
Imposed with holy tears; my sister's love;  
My virgin state; nor nuptial ties, could move!  
O what a wild confusion hast thou, bred!  
ay, an adultress to my sister's bed;  
Thou husband to us both; to me a foe;  
To all a punishment; and justly so.  
Why mak'st thou not thy villainies complete;  
By forcing life from her abhorred seat?  
O would thou hadst, ere I my honour lost!  
Then had I parted with a spotless ghost.  
Yet, if the Gods have eyes; if their Powers be  
Of any power; not all decay with me;  
Thou shalt not scape due vengeance. Sense of shame  
I will abandon; and thy crime proclaim:  
To men, if free; if not, my voice shall break  
Through these thick walls; and teach the woods to speak:  
Hard rocks resolve to ruth. Let heaven this hear;  
And Heauen-throned Gods: if there be any there!  
These words the savage Tyrant moves to wroth:  
Nor less his fear: a like provoked by both.  
Who draws his sword: his cruel hands he winds  
In her loose hair: her arms behind her binds.  
Her throat glad Philomela ready made:  
Conceiving hope of death from his drawn blade.  
Whilst she reviles, invokes her father; sought  
To vent her spleen; her tongue in pincers caught,  
His sword deuideth from the panting root:  
Which, trembling, murmurs curses at his foot.  
And as a serpent's tail, dissevered, skips:  
Even so her tongue: and dying sought her lips.  
After this fact (if we may Rumour trust)  
He oft abused her body with his lust.  
Yet home to Progne, in the end, retires:  
Who for her sister hastily inquires.  
He funerals belies, with feigned grief:  
And by instructed tears begets belief.  
Progne her royal ornaments rejects;  
And puts on black: an empty tomb erects;  
To her imagined Ghost oblations burns:  
Her sister's fate, not as she should, she mourns.  
Now through twelve Signs the year his period drew.  
What should distressed Philomela do?  
A guard restrained her flight; the walls were strong;  
Her mouth had lost the index of her tongue.  
The wit that misery begets is great:  
Great sorrow adds a quickness to conceit.  
A woof upon a Thracian loom she spreads;  
And inter-weaves the white with crimson threads;  
That character her wrong. The closely wrought,  
As closely to a servant gave; besought  
To bear it to her Mistress: who presents  
The Queen therewith; not knowing the contents.  
The wife to that dire Tyrant this unfolds:  
And in a woeful verse her state beholds.  
She held her peace: 'twas strange! grief struck her mute.  
No language could with such a passion suit.  
Nor had she time to weep. Right, wrong, were mixed  
In her fell thoughts▪ her soul on vengeance fixed.  
It was that time; when, in a wild disguise,  
Sithonian matrons use to solemnise  
Lyaeus' three-yeares Feast. Night spreads her wings:  
By night high Rho●ope with timbrels rings.  
By night th'impatient Queen a iavelin takes,  
And now a Bacchanal, the Court forsakes.  
Vines shade her brows: the rough hide of a Dear  
Shogs at her sides her shoulder bore a spear.  
Hurried through woods, with her attendant froes,  
Terrible Progne, frantic with her woes,  
Thy milderfuly, Bacchus, counterfeits.  
At length unto the desert cottage gets:  
Howls; Eu●h●, cries: breaks open the doors, and took  
Her sister thence: with ivy hides her look:  
In habit of a Bacchanal arrayed:  
And to her city the amazed ●onu●yd.  
That hated roof when I high 〈◊〉 lafoy knew;  
The poor soul shook, her 〈◊〉 bloodless grew.  
Progne withdraws; the sacred weeds unloosed;  
Her woeful sisters bashful face disclosed:  
Falls on her neck. The other durst not raise  
Her downcast eyes: her sister's wrong surveys  
In her dishonour. As she strove t'have sworn  
With upraised looks; and call the Gods t' have borne  
Her pure thoughts witness, how she was compelled  
To that loathed fact; she hands, for speech, upheld.  
Stern Progne broils; her bosom hardly bears  
So vast a rage: who chides her sister's tears.  
No tears, said she, our lost condition needs:  
But steel; or if thou hast what steel exceeds.  
ay, for all horrid practices, am fit:  
To wrap this roof in flame, and him in it:  
His eyes, his tongue, or what did thee enforce,  
Textirp; or with a thousand wounds, divorce  
His guilty soul? The deed I intent, is great:  
But what, as yet, I know not. In this heat  
Came Itys in, and taught her what to do.  
Beheld with cruel eyes; Ah, how I view  
In thee, said she, thy father! and began  
Her tragic Scene: with silent anger wan.  
But when her son saluted her, and ch  
Unto her neck; mixed kisses, as he hung,  
With childish blandishments; her high-wrought blood  
Began to calm, and rage distracted stood.  
Tears trickled from her eyes by strong constraint.  
But when she found her resolution faint  
With too much pity, her sad sister views,  
And said, while both, her eyes by turns peruse.  
Why flatters he? why tongueless weeps the other?  
Why sister calls not she, whom he calls mother?  
Degenerate! think whose daughter; to whom wed:  
All pietic is sin to Tereus' bed.  
Then Itys trails: as when by Ganges floods  
A Tigress drags a Fawn through silent woods.  
Retiring to the most sequestered room:  
While he, with hands vp-heaued, foresee his doom,  
Clings to her bosom; mother! mother! cried;  
She stabs him: nor once turned her face aside.  
His throat was cut by Philomela's knife:  
Although one wound sufficed to vanquish life.  
His yet quick limbs, ere all his soul could pass,  
She piecemeal tears. Some boil in hollow brass,  
Some hiss on spits. The pavements blushed with blood.  
Progne invites her husband to this food:  
And feigns her Country's Rite; which would afford  
No attendant, nor companion, but her Lord.  
Now Tereus, mounted on his Grandsires' throne,  
With his sons carved entrails stuffs his own:  
And bids her (so Soule-blinded!) call his boy.  
Progne could not disguise her cruel joy:  
In full fruition of her horrid ire,  
Thou hast, said she, within thee thy desire.  
He looks about: asks where. And while again  
He asks, and calls: all bloody with the slain,  
Forth, like a Fury, Philomela flew;  
And at his face the head of Itys threw.  
Nor ever more than now desired a tongue;  
Texpresse the joy of her revenged wrong.  
He, with loud outcries, doth the board repel;  
And cities the Furies from the depth of hell.  
Now from his rising stomach strives to cast  
Th' abhorred food: now weeps, with grief aghast ':  
And calls himself his sons unhappy tomb.  
Then draws his sword; and through the guilty room  
Pursues the Sisters; who appear with wings  
To cut the air: and so they did. One sings  
In woods, the other near the house remains:  
And on her breast yet bears her murders stains.  
He, swift with grief and fury, in that space  
His person changed Long tufts of feathers grace  
His shining crown; his sword a bill became;  
His face all armed: whom we a Lapwing name.  
This kill news, ere half his age was spent.  
Pandion to th' infernal Shadows sent.  
Erichtheus his throne and seepter held:  
Who, both in justice, and bold arms excelled.  
To him his wife four sons, all hopeful, bare:  
As many daughters: two, surpassing fair.  
Thee, Shafalus, thy Procris happy made:  
But Thrace and Tereus, Boreas' nuptial stayed.  
The God beloved Orithya wanted long;  
While he put off his power, to use his tongue.  
His suit rejected; horridly inclined  
To anger (too familiar with that Wind.)  
I justly suffer this indignity:  
For why, said he, have I my arms laid by?  
Strength, violence, high rage, and awful threats.  
'Tis my dishonour to have used entreats.  
Force me befits. With this, thick clouds I drive;  
Toss the blue billows, knotty Okes up-rive;  
Congeal soft snow, and beat the earth with hail.  
When I my brethren in the air assail,  
(For that's our field) we meet with such a shock,  
That thundering skies with our encounters rock,  
And clowd-struck lightning flashes from on high.  
When through the crannies of the earth I fly,  
And force her in her hollow caves, I make  
The Ghosts to tremble, and the ground to quake.  
Thus should I have wood; with these my match have made:  
Erichtheus should have been compelled, not prayed.  
Thus Boreas cha●● or no less storming, shook  
His horrid wings, whose eyrie motion struck  
The earth with blasts, and made the Ocean roar.  
Trailing his dusky mantle on the flore,  
He hid himself in clouds of dust, and caught.  
Beloved Orithya, with her fear distraught.  
Flying, his agitated fires increased:  
Nor of his airy race the reigns suppressed  
Till to the walled Cicones he came.  
Two goodly Twins th' espoused Athenian Dame  
Gave to the Icy author of her rape:  
Who had their father's wings and mother's shape.  
Yet not so borne. Before their faces bore  
The manly ensigns of their yellow hair,  
Calais and Zetes both unplumed were.  
But as the down did on their chins appear;  
So, foule-like, from their sides soft feathers bud.  
When youth to action had inflamed their blood;  
In the first vessel, with the flower of Greece,  
Through unknown seas, they sought the Golden Fleece.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The seventh Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
MEn, Dragons teeth produce. Wing'd Snakes their year●  
By odours cast. A seire branch Olives bears.  
Drops sprout to Flowers. Old Aeson young became,  
So Libers' Nurses. An old Sheep a Lamb.  
Cerambus flies. A Snake, a snake-like Stone.  
An Ox, a Stag. Sad Mera barks unknown.  
Horn's front the Co●● dames. The Telchines  
All change. A Doue-turned Maid. The hard to please,  
Becomes a Swan. His mother Hyrie weeps  
Into a Lake. High-mounting Comb keeps  
Her son-sought Life. A King and Queen estranged  
To flightful Foule. Cephilus' Nephew changed  
Into a Seal. Eum●lus daughter flees  
Through tracelesse regious. Men from Mushroom rise,  
Phinius and Periphas light wings assume.  
So Polyphemous niece. From Cerberns' spume  
Springs Aconite. Just Earth a grave denies  
To Scyron's bones; which now in rocks ●●ise.  
Arne, a Chough. Stout Myrmidons are borne  
Of toiling Ants. The late rejected Morn  
Masks Shafalus. The Dog, that did pursus,  
And Beast pusu'de; two m●rbl● Statues grew.  
With Pagasaean keel the Minyae plow  
The curling waves: and p●●neus see; who now  
In endless night his needy age consumes.  
The youthful sons of Boreas, raised with plumes,  
Those greedy Harpies, with though virgin face,  
Far-off from his polluted table chase.  
They, under jason, having suffered much;  
At length the banks of slimy Phasis touch.  
Now Phryxus fleece the hardy Minyae ask:  
And from the King receive a dreadful task.  
Meanwhile Ae●tias fries in secret fires:  
Who struggling long with overstrong desires,  
When reason could not such a rage restrain;  
She said: Medea, thou resists in vain.  
Some God, unknown, with-stands. What will this prove!  
Or is it such as others fancy, jovo?  
Why seem the King's commands so too severe?  
And so, in truth they be. Why should I fear  
A stranger's ruin, never seen before?  
Whence spring these cares? Why fear I more and more?  
These furies from thy virgin breast repel,  
Wretch, if thou canst. Could I, I should be well.  
A new-felt force my striving powers invades:  
Affection this, discretion that, persuades.  
I see the better, I approve it too:  
The worse I follow. Why shouldst thou pursue  
A husband of an other world; that art  
Of royal birth? Our country may impart  
A choice as worthy. If this foreign mate;  
Or live, or dye; 'tis in the hands of fate.  
Yet, may he live! I such a suit might move  
To equal Gods, although I did not love.  
For what hath jason done? his hopeful Youth  
Would move all hearts, that were not hard, to ruth;  
His birth, his valour. Set all these apart;  
His person would: I am sure it moves my heart.  
Yet should not I assist, the flaming breath  
Of Bulls would blast him; or, assaults of death  
Spring up in arms from Tellus hostile womb:  
Or else the greedy Dragon proves his tomb.  
This suffer, and thou hast a heart of stone;  
Borne of Tigress, and more savage grown.  
Yet why stand I not by? behold him slain?  
And with that spectacle my eyes profane?  
Add fury to the Bulls? to th' Earthborn ire?  
And sleepless Dragon with more spleen inspire?  
The Gods forbid! yet rather help, than pray.  
My father's kingdom shall I then betray?  
And save this fellow, whom I hardly know,  
That saved by me, he should without me go,  
Marry an other, and leave me behind  
To punishment? could he prove so unkind,  
Or for an other my deserts neglect;  
Then should he dye Such is not his aspect;  
The clearness of his mind; his every grace;  
To sear deceit, or censure him so base.  
Besides, before hand he shall plight his troth:  
And bind the contract by a solemn oath.  
What need thou doubt? go on; delay decline:  
Obliged jason will be ever thine.  
Hymen shall crown, and mothers celebrate  
Their son's Protectress through th' Achaean State.  
My sister, brother, father, country, Gods,  
Shall I abandon for unknown abodes?  
Austere my father, barbarous my land,  
My brother, a child, my sister's wishes stand  
With my desires; the greatest God of all  
My breast enshrines. What I forsake is small:  
Great hopes I follow. To receive the grace  
for Argo's safetic: know a better place  
And Cities, which, in these far-distant parts,  
Are famous; with civility, and arts:  
And Aesons son, whom I more dear prize  
Than wealthy Earth and all her Monarchies.  
In him most happy, and affected by  
The bounteous gods, my crown shall reach the sky.  
They tell of Rocks that justle in the main:  
Charybdis, that sucks in, and casts again  
The wrackful waves: how rau●nous Scylla waits  
With barking dogs in rough Sicilian straits.  
My love poslest; in jasons' bosom laid;  
Let seas swell high: I cannot be dismayed  
While I enfold my husband in my arms.  
Or should I fear, I should but fear his harms.  
Call'st thou him husband? wilt thou then thy blame  
M●dea, varnish with an honest name?  
Consider well what thou intendest to do;  
And, while thou mayst, so foul a crime eschew.  
Thus she. When honour, pictie, the right,  
Before her stood; and Cupid put to flight.  
Then goes where Hecate's old Altar stood;  
O're-shadowed by a dark and secret wood.  
Her broken ardour she had now reclaimed:  
Which jasons' presence forthwith re-inflamed.  
Her cheeks blush fire: her face with fervour flashes.  
And as a dying cinder, rak't in ashes,  
Fed by reviving winds, augmenting, glows;  
And tossed, to accustomed fury grows:  
So sickly Love, which lare appeared to dye;  
New life assumed from his inflaming eye.  
Whose looks by chance more beauty now discover  
Than heretofore: you might forgive the lover.  
Her eager eyes she rivets on his face;  
And, frantic, thinks him of no humane race:  
Nor could divert her looks. As he his tongue  
Began t'unloose, her fair hand softly wrung,  
Implored her aid, and promised her his bed:  
She answer made, with tearrs profusely shed.  
I see to what events my intentions move:  
Nor ignorance deceives me thus; but love.  
You, by the virtue of my art, shall live:  
In recompense, your faithful promise give.  
He, by the Altar of the Triple Powre,  
The groves which that great Deity imbowre,  
Her father's Sire, to whom the hid appears,  
His own success, and so great danger, swears.  
Believed: from her th' enchanted herbs receives▪  
With them, their use: and his Protectress leaves.  
The Morrow had the sparkling stars defaced:  
When all in Marse's field assemble; placed  
On circling ridges. Seated on a throne,  
The iuory-sceptered King in scarlet shone.  
From adamant nostrils bras-hooued Bulls now cast  
Hot Vulcan, and the grass with vapours blast.  
And as full forges, blown by art, resound;  
As puluered flints, infurnest under ground;  
By sprinkled water fire conceive: so they  
Penned flames, involved in noiseful breasts, betray;  
So rumble their scorched throats. Yet Aesons Heir  
Came bravely on: on whom they trune, and stare  
With terrible aspects; his ruin threat  
With steele-tipt horns. Enraged, their cleft hoofs beat  
The thundering ground; whence clouds of dust arise;  
And with their smoky bellow rend the skies.  
The Minya freeze with fear; but he remains  
Untouched: such virtue Sorcery contains.  
Their dew-laps boldly with his hand he strokes.  
Enforced to draw the plough with heavy yokes.  
The Colchians at so strange a sight admire:  
The Minya shout, and set his powers on fire.  
Then, in his cask, the viper's teeth assumes:  
Those in the turn'd-vp furrows he inhumes.  
Earth mollifies the poisonous seeds, which spring;  
And forth a harvest of new People bring.  
And as an Embryo, in the womb enclosed,  
Assumes the form of man; within composed,  
Through all accomplished numbers; nor comes forth  
To breathe in air, till his maturer growth:  
So when the bowels of the teeming Earth  
Grew great, she gave men's perfect shapes their birth.  
And, what's more strange; with them, their arms ascend;  
Who at th' Aemonian Youth their lances bend.  
When this th' Achaians saw, they hung the head:  
And all their courages for terror fled.  
Even she, who had secured him was afraid,  
When she beheld so many one invade.  
A chill cold checks her blood; death looks less pale.  
And left the herbs she gave should chance to fail;  
Unheard auxiliary charms imparts:  
And calls th' assistance of her secret Arts.  
He hurls a massi● stone among his foes:  
Who on themselves convert their deadly blows.  
The Earthborn brothers mutual wounds destroy,  
And civil war. The Achives skip for joy,  
And throng t' embrace the Victor. Her the same.  
Affection spurred, but was withheld by shame.  
Yet that too weak if none had looked upon her:  
Not virtue checked her, but the wrack of honour.  
Now, in conceit, she hugs him in her arms:  
Applauds th' inventive Gods; with them, her charms.  
To make the Dragon sleep that never slept,  
Remains; whose care the golden purchase kept.  
Bright crested, triple tongued; his cruel jaws  
Armed with sharp fangs; his feet with dreadful clawed.  
When once besprinkled with Lethaean juice,  
And words repeated thrice; which sleep produce,  
Calm the rough seas, and make swift rivers stand;  
His eyelids veiled to sleeps unknown command.  
The Heros, of the Golden Fleece possessed,  
Proud of the spoil, with her whose fovour blest  
His enterprise, an other Spoil, now bore  
To sea; and lands on safe jolcian shore.  
Aemonian parents, for their sons return,  
Bring grateful gifts, coniested incense burn;  
And cheerfully with horne-gilt offerings pay  
Religious vows. But Aeson was away;  
Oppressed with redious age, now near his tomb.  
When thus Aesonides: O wife, to whom  
My life I owe: though all I hold in chief  
From thy deserts, which far surpass belief;  
If magic can (what cannot magic do?)  
Take years from me; and his with mine renew.  
Then wept. His piety her passion stirs:  
Who sighs to think how unlike she had been to hers.  
Yet this concealing, answers: What a crime  
Hath slipped thy tongue? thinkst thou, that with thy time  
I can, or will, another's life invest?  
Hecat ' forefend! nor is't a just request.  
Yet jason, we a greater gift will give:  
Thy father, by our art renewed, shall live,  
Without thy loss; if so the triple Powre  
Assist me with her presence in that hour.  
Three nights yet wanted, ere the Moon could join  
Her growing horns. When with replenished shine  
She faced the earth; the Court she leaves; her hair  
Vntrest, her garments lose, her ankles bare:  
And wanders through the dead of drowsy Night  
With unseen steps Men, beasts, and birds of flight,  
Deep Rest had bound in humid gyves; who crept  
So silently, as if herself had slept.  
No Aspen wags, moist air no sound receives;  
Stars only shine: to which her arms she heaves:  
Thrice turns about; besprinkles thrice her crown  
With gathered dew; thrice yawns: and kneeling down:  
O Night, thou friend to Secrets; you clear fires,  
That, with the Moon, succeed when Day retires:  
Great Hecate, that knowst, and aid imparts  
To our designs: you Charms, and magic Arts:  
And thou, O Earth, that to Magicians yields  
Thy powerful simples: airs, winds, mountains, fields;  
Soft murmuring springs, still lakes, and rivers clear:  
You Gods of woods; you Gods of night, appear  
By you, at will, I make swift streams retire  
To their first fountains, whilst their banks admire;  
Seas toss, and smooth; clear clouds, with clouds deform;  
Storms turn to calms, and make a calm a Storm.  
With spells and charms I break the Viper's jaw,  
Cleave solid rocks, oaks from their seasures draw,  
Whole Woods remove, the airy mountains shake;  
Earth groan, and ghosts from beds of death awake.  
And thee, T●tania, from thy sphere I hale:  
Though ringing Cymbals thy extremes avail.  
Our charms thy chariot pale; our poisonous weeds,  
The frighted Morn; though drawn by rosy Steeds.  
Flame-breathing bulls you tamed; you made them bow  
Their stubborn necks unto the servile plough;  
The Serpent's brood by you self-slaughtered lies;  
Your slumbers closed the wakeful Dragon's eyes,  
At our command: and sent the Golden Fleece  
(The guard deluded) to the towers of Greece.  
Now need I drugs, that may old age endue  
With vigour, and the flower of youth renew.  
Which you shall give. Nor blaze these stars in vain:  
Nor Dragon's vainly through the airy maine  
This Chariot draw. Hard by the chariot rests.  
Mounting, she strokes the bridled dragons crests;  
And shakes the reigns. Rapt up, beneath her spies  
Thessalian Tempe; and her snakes applies  
To parts retired. The herbs that ●ssa bear,  
Steep Pelion, Othrys, Pindus; ever-cleare  
Olympus, who the lofty Pindus' tops;  
Vp-roots, or with her brazen Cycle crops.  
Much gathers on the bank of Apidan;  
By Amphr●sus much; and where Enipeus ran.  
Nor Sperchius', nor Peneus, barren found:  
Nor thee smooth Boe●es with sharp rushes crowned.  
And ravished from Euboean Anthedon,  
That herb, as yet by Glaucus change unknown.  
By winged Dragons drawn, nine nights, nine days,  
About she rome's; and every field surveys.  
Returned: her Snakes, that did but only smell  
The Odours, cast their skins, and age expel.  
Her feet to enter her own roof refuse  
Roofed by the sky: she touch of man eschews.  
Two Altars builds of living turf: the right  
To Hecate, the left to Youth. These dight  
With Vervin and green boughs; hard by, two pits  
She forthwith digs: and sacrificing, slits  
The throats of black-●●eest rams. With reaking blood  
The ditches fills; and powers thereon a flood  
Of honey, and new milk, from turn'd-vp bowls;  
Repeating powerful words. The King of Souls,  
His ravished Queen, invokes; and Powers beneath,  
Not to prevent her by old Aesons death.  
With prayers, and long-breathed murmurings appeased:  
She bids them to produce the age-diseased.  
Her sleepe-producing charm his spirits deads':  
Who on the grass his senseless body spreads.  
Charged jason, and the rest, far-off withdrew:  
Unhallowed eyes might not such secrets view.  
Furious Medea, with her hair vnbound,  
About the flagrant Altar trots a Round.  
The brands dips in the ditches, black with blood;  
〈◊〉 on the Altars fires th'infected wood.  
Thrice purges him with waters, thrice with flames,  
And thrice with sulphur; muttering horrid names.  
Mean while, in hollow brass the medicine boyles:  
And swelling high, in foamy bubbles toils.  
There seethes she what th' Aenonian vales produce;  
boots, ivyces, flowers, and seeds of sovereign use.  
Adds precious stones, from farthest Orient rest:  
And pebbles, by the ebbing Ocean left.  
The dew collected ere the Dawning springs:  
A Screech-owl's flesh, with her infamous wings.  
The entrailes of ambiguous Wolves; that can  
Take, and forsake the figure of a man.  
The liver of a long-lived Hart: then takes  
The scaly skins of small Cinyphean snakes.  
A Crows black head, and pointed beak, was cast:  
Among the rest; which had nine ages past.  
These, and a thousand more; without a name,  
Were thus prepared by the barbarous Dame  
For humane benefit. Th'ingredients now  
She mingles with a withered olive bough.  
Lo! from the caldron the dry stick receives  
First virdure; and a little after, leaves;  
Forthwith, with over-burdning Olives decked.  
The skipping spume which under flames eiect,  
Upon the ground descended in a dew:  
Whence vernal flowers, and springing pasture grew.  
This seen, she cuts the old man's throat; out-scrused:  
His scarce-warme blood, and her receipt infused.  
Sucked in at mouth or wound, his beard and head  
Black hair forthwith adorn, the hoary shed.  
Pale colour, morphue, meager looks remove:  
And under-rising flesh his wrinkles smooth.  
His limbs wax strong and lusty. Aeson much  
Admires his change: himself remembers such  
Twice twenty summers past. With all, endued.  
A youthful mind: and both at once renewed.  
This wonder from on high Lyaeus views:  
By Colchis gift his nurse's dates renews.  
Lest frand should fail; she, with her bed's Consort  
Dissension feigns, and flies to Pelias Court.  
His daughters (for sad Age the King arrests)  
Her entertain. Who soon with sly protests  
Of forged love allures their quick belief.  
Among her 〈◊〉 mentions the reprieve  
Of Aese●● years; insisting on that part.  
This hope engenders, that her able Art  
Might so their father's vanished youth restore:  
Whom they, with infinite rewards implore.  
She, musing, seems to doubt: and, with pretence  
Of difficulty, holds them in suspense.  
But when she had a tardy promise made;  
To win your steadfast confidence (she said)  
Take from your flocks the most age-shaken Ram;  
And suddenly he shall become a Lamb.  
Streight thither by the wreathed horns they drew  
A sunk-eyed Ram; whose youth none living knew.  
Now, at his riveled throat, out-lanching life  
(Whose little blood could hardly stain her knife)  
His carcase she into a caldron throws:  
With it, her drugs. Each limb more slender grows;  
He casts his horns, and with his horns his years:  
Anon a tender bleating strikes their cares.  
While they admire, out skips a frisking lamb;  
That sports, and seeks the udder of his dam.  
Fixed with amaze: they, strongly now possessed,  
Her promise more importunately pressed.  
Thrice Phoebus had unyoked his panting Steeds,  
Drenched in Iberian Seas; whist Night succeeds,  
Studded with stars: when false Medea took,  
With useless herbs, mere water of the brook.  
On Pelias▪ and his drowsy Guard, she hung  
A deathlike sleep with her enchanting tongue.  
Whom now the so-instructed sisters led  
Into his chamber; and besiege his bed.  
Why pause you thus, said she, o slow to good!  
Unsheathe your swords, and shed his aged blood;  
That I his veins with sprightly juice may fill:  
His life and youth depend upon your will.  
If you have any virtue, nor pursue  
Unfruitful hopes, perform this filial due.  
With steel your father's age expulse, and purge  
His dregs through wounds. Their zeal her speeches urge.  
Who were most pious, impious first became:  
And, by avoiding, perpetrate the same.  
Yet hearts they had not to behold the blow:  
But, with averted looks, blind wounds bestow.  
He, blood-imbrewed, his hoary head advanced:  
Halfe-mangled, strove to rise. Who now entranced  
Amidst so many swords, his arms up-help;  
And, Daughters, cried, what do you! what compelled  
Those cruel hands t'invade your father's life!  
Down sunk their hands and hearts. Medea's knife,  
With following speech his throat asunder cuts:  
And his hacked limbs in seething liquor puts.  
And had not Dragons rapt her through the skies,  
Revenge had tortured her. Aloft she flies  
o'er shady Pelion, godlike Chirons' Den,  
Aspiring Othrys, hills renowned by men  
For old Cerambus safety: who, by aid  
Of favouring Nymphs, reliefefull wings displayed;  
While swallowing waves the weighty earth surround:  
And swollen Deucalion's surges scap't vndrowned.  
Aeolian Pitane on her left hand leaves;  
That marble which the Serpent's shape receives;  
Idaean groves, where ●iber turned a Steere  
(To cloak his sons sly theft) into a Dear;  
The sand-heape which Corytus Sire contains;  
And where new-barking Mer● frights the plains:  
Euryphylus town, where horns the Matrons shamed  
Of ●o, when Hercules the Coans tamed;  
Phoebeian ●hode; ●al, sian Telchines,  
Drenched by Ioues vengeance in his brother's seas,  
For all transforming with their vicious eyes:  
By Caea's old Carthetan turrets flies,  
Where fates Alcidamas with wonder move,  
To think his daughter could become a Dove.  
Then Hyries' lake, Cy●neian Tempe viewed,  
Graced by a Swan with sudden plumes endued.  
For Phyllius there, had, at a Boys command,  
Wild birds, and savage Lions, brought to hand.  
Who bid to tame a Bull, his will performed;  
Yet at so stern a love not seldom stormed,  
And his last purchase to the boy denied.  
Pouting, You'll wish you had given it me, he cried;  
And jumped from downright cliffs. All held him bained;  
When spreading wings a silver Swan sustained  
His Mother (ignorant thereof) became  
A Lake with weeping: which they Hyrie name.  
Next Ple●ron lies; where Ophian Comb shuns,  
With trembling wings, her life pursuing sons.  
Then near ●atona-lou'd Calaurea ranged;  
In which the King and Queen to birds were changed.  
〈◊〉 on the right hand (where the beast  
〈◊〉 would his mother have compressed.)  
Cephisus spies (who for his nephew mourned;  
Into a Sea-calf by Apollo turned).  
〈◊〉 Court, whose daughter sads her Sire,  
With mounting wings. Her Snakes at length retire.  
To Piren, Ephyr: men, if Fame say true,  
Here at the first from shower-raysd mushrooms grew.  
But after Colchis had the new-wed Dame,  
And Creon's Palace, wrapped in Magic flame;  
When impious steel her children's blood had shed,  
The ill-reuenged from jasons' fury fled.  
Whom now the swift Titanian Dragons draw  
To Pallas towers. Those thee, just Phineus, saw;  
And thee, old Periphas, at once to fly:  
Where Polyphemons' Niece new wings supply.  
Aegaeus entertains her (of his life  
The only stain) and took her for his wife.  
Here Theseus masked unknown: who, great in Deed  
Had two-seaed Isthmos from oppression freed.  
Whose undeserved ruin Phasias sought  
By mortal Aconite, from Scythia brought.  
This from Echidna's hellhound essence draws.  
There is a blind steep cave with foggy jaws,  
Through which the bold Tirynthian Heros strained  
Dragged Cerberus, with adamant enchained.  
Who backward hung, and stalling, looked a-skew  
On glorious Day; with anger rabid grew:  
Thrice howls, thrice barks at once, with his three heads;  
And on the grass his spumy poison sheds.  
This sprung; attracting from the fruitful soil  
Dire nourishment, and power of deathful spoil.  
The rural Swains, because it takes delight  
In living rocks, surnamed it Aconite.  
Aegaeus, by her fly persuasions won;  
As to a foe, presents it to his son.  
He took the cup: when by the ivory hilt  
Of Theseus' sword, Aegaeus found her guilt;  
And struck the potion from his lips. With charms  
Engendering clouds, she escapes his lengthlesse arms.  
Though glad of his son's safety, a i'll fear  
shook all his powers, that danger was so near.  
With fire he feeds the Altars, richly feasts  
The Gods with gifts. Whole Hecatombs of beasts  
(Their horns with ribbons wreathed) imbrue the ground  
No day, they say, was ever so renowned  
Amongst th' Athenians. Noble, vulgar, all,  
Together celebrate that Festival.  
And sing, when flowing bowls their spirits raise:  
Great Theseus, Marathon resounds thy praise  
For slaughter of the Cretan Bull. Secure  
They live, who Cremyons wasted fields manure,  
By thy exploit and bounty. Vulcan's Seed  
By thee glad Epidaure beheld to bleed.  
Immane Procrustes death Cephisia viewed:  
Elusis, Cercyon's. Scinis ill indu'de  
With strength so much abused; who Beeches bend,  
And tortured bodies 'twixt their branches rend,  
Thou slew'st. The way which to Alcathoê led  
Is now secure, inhuman Scyron dead.  
The Earth his scattered bones a grave denied;  
Nor would the Sea his hated relics hide:  
Which tossed to and fro, in time became  
A solid rock: the rock we Scyron name.  
If we thy years should number with thy acts;  
Thy years would prove a cipher to thy facts.  
Great soul! for thee, as for our public wealth,  
We pray; and quaff Lyaeus to thy health.  
The Palace with the people's praises rings:  
And sacred joy in every bosom springs.  
Aegaeus yet (no pleasure is complete:  
Grief twins with joy.) for Theseus' safe receipt  
Reaps little comfort. Minos makes a war:  
Though strong in men and ships, yet stronger far  
Through vengeance of a father: who, his harme●  
In slain Androgeus, scourgeth with just arms.  
Yet wisely first endeavours foreign aid:  
And all the Lands of that Sea surveyed.  
Who Anaphe and Astipalea gained;  
The one by gifts, the other was constrained:  
Low Mycone, Cimolus chalky fields,  
High Scyros, Siphnus, which rich metals yields,  
Champion Seriphos, Paros far displayed  
With marble brows, and Cythnos il-betrayed  
By impious Arne for yet-loved gold;  
Turned to a Chough, whom sable plumes enfold.  
Oliaros, Didymae the Sea-loued soil  
Of Tenos, l'eparethes fat with oil,  
Andros, and Gyaros; these their aid denied.  
The Gnossian fleet from thence their sails applied  
Unto Oenopia, for her children famed.  
Oenopia by the ancient dwellers named:  
But Aeacus, there reigning, called the same▪  
Aegina, of his honoured mother's name.  
All throng to see a Prince of so great worth.  
Strait telamon and Peleus, issuing forth,  
With Phocus, youngest of that royal race,  
Make haste to meet him. With a tardy pace  
Came aged Aeacus, and asked the cause  
Of his repair. At those sad thoughts he draws  
His breath in sighs: some intermission made,  
The Ruler of the hundred Cities said.  
Assist our arms, borne for my murdered son;  
And in this pious war our fortunes run:  
Give comfort to his grave. The King replied:  
In vain you ask what needs must be denied.  
No City is in stricter league than ours  
Conjoined to Athens: mutual are our powers.  
He, parting, said: Your league shall cost you dear.  
And held it better far▪ to threat, than bear  
An accidental war; whereby he might  
Consume his force before he came to fight.  
Yet might they see the Cretans under sail  
From high built walls: when, with a leading gale,  
The At●●ck ship attained their friendly shore:  
Which Shafalus, and his embassage, bore.  
Th! Aeacides him knew (though many a day  
Unseen) embrace, and to the Court convey.  
The goodly Prince, who yet the pledges held  
Of those perfections, which in youth excelled,  
Enters the Palace; bearing in his hand.  
A brancit of Olive. At his elbows stand  
Clitus, and Butes; valorous and young:  
Who from the loins of high-born Pa●las sprung.  
First Shafalus his full oration made;  
Which showed his message, and demanded aid:  
Their leagues, an ancient loves to mind recalls;  
And how all Greece was threatened in their falls:  
With eloquence enforced his embassy.  
When Godlike Aeacus made this reply  
(His royal sceptre shining in his hand)  
Athenians, crave not succour, but command:  
This Lands forces yours vouchsafe to call;  
For in your aid I will adventure all.  
Soldiers I have enough, at once t'oppose  
My enemies, and to repel your foes.  
The Gods be praised, and happy times, that will  
Seek no excuses. May your City still  
Increase with people; Shafalus replied.  
At my approach I not a little joyed  
To meet so many youths of equal years,  
So fresh and lusty. Yet not one appears  
Of those who heretofore your town possessed;  
When first you entertained me for a Guest.  
Then Aeacus, (in sighs his words ascend)  
A sad beginning had a better end.  
Would I could veter all: Day would expire  
E'er all were told, and 'twould your patience tyre.  
Their bones, and ashes, silent graves enclose:  
And what a treasure perished with those!  
By Iun●'s wrath, a dreadful pestilence  
Devoured our lives: who took unjust offence,  
In that this Isle her Rival's name professed.  
While it seemed humane, and the cause unghest;  
So long we death-repelling Physic tried:  
But those diseases vanquished Art deride.  
Heaven first, the earth with thickened vapours shrouds;  
And lazy heat involves in sullen clouds.  
Four pallid moons their growing horns unite,  
And had as oft withdrawn their feeble light;  
Yet still the death-producing Auster blew.  
Sunk springs, and standing lakes infected grew:  
Serpents in untild fields by millions creep;  
And in the streams their tainting poisons steep.  
First, dogs, sheep, oxen, fowl that flagging fly,  
And savage beasts, the swift infection try.  
Sad Swains, amazed, see their oxen shrink  
Beneath the yoke, and in the furrows sink.  
The fleecy flocks with anguish faintly bleat;  
Let fall their wool, and pine away with heat,  
The generous Horse that from th' Olympics late  
Returned with honour, now degenerate,  
Unmindful of the glory of his prize;  
Groans at his manger, and there deedless dies.  
The Boar forgets his rage: swift feet now fail  
The Hart: nor Bears the horned Herd assail.  
All languish. Woods, fields, paths (no longer bare)  
Are filled with carcases, that stench the air.  
Which neither dogs, nor greedy fowl (how much  
To be admired!) nor hoary wolves would touch.  
Falling, they rot: which deadly Odours bred,  
That round about their dire contagion spread.  
Now raves among the wretched country Swains:  
Now in our large and populous City reigns.  
At first, their bowels broil, with fervour stretched:  
The symptoms; redness, hot wind hardly fetched.  
Their furred tongs swell; their dry jaws gasp for breath;  
And with the air inhale a swifter death.  
None could endure or coverture, or bed:  
But on the stones their panting bosoms spread.  
Cold stones could no way mitigate that heat:  
Even they beneath those burning burdens sweat.  
None cure attempt: the stern Disease invades  
The heartless Leech; nor Art her author aids.  
The near allied, whose care the sick attends,  
Sicken themselves, and dye before their friends.  
Of remedy they see no hope at all,  
But only in approaching funeral.  
All cherish their desires: for help none care:  
Help was there none. In shameless throngs repair  
To springs and wells: there cleave, in bitter strife  
T'extinguish thirst; but first extinguish life.  
Nor could th'o'ercharged arise; but dying, sink:  
And of those tainted waters, others drink.  
The wretches loath their tedious beds: thence break  
With giddy steps. Or, if now grown too weak,  
Roll on the floor: there quitted houses hate,  
As guilty of their miserable fare;  
And, ignorant of the cause, the place accuse:  
Halfe-ghosts, they walk, while they their legs could use.  
You might see others on the earth lie mourning;  
Their heavy eyes with dying motion turning:  
Stretching their arms to heaven, where ever death  
Surprised them, parting with their sigh't-out breath.  
O what a heart had I! or aught to have!  
I loathed my life, and wished with them a grave.  
Which way soever I convert my eye,  
The breathless multitude dispersed lie.  
Like perished apples, dropping with the strokes  
Of rocking winds; or acorns from broad oaks.  
See you yon Temple, mounted on high stairs?  
'Tis Iupiters. Who hath not offered prayers,  
And slighted incense there! husband's for wives;  
Fathers for sons: and while they pray, their lives  
Before th'inexorable altars vent;  
With incense in their hands, half yet unspent!  
How oft the ox, unto the temple brought,  
While yet the Priest the angry Powers besought,  
And poured pure wine between his horns; fell down  
Before the axe had touched his curled crown!  
To jupiter about to sacrifice,  
For me, my country, sons; with horrid noise  
Th'unwounded Offering fell: the blood that life  
Bore into exile, hardly stained the knife.  
The Inwards lost their signs of heaven's presage;  
Out-raized by the stern Diseases rage.  
The dead before the sacred doors were laid:  
Before the Altars too; the Gods t'upbraid.  
Some choke themselves with cords: by death eschew  
The fear of death; and following Fates pursue.  
Dead corpse, without the Deuce of funeral,  
They weakly bear: the ports are now too small.  
Or vn-inhumed they lie: or else are thrown  
On wealthlesse piles. Respect is given to none.  
For Pyles they strive: on those their kinsfolk burn,  
That flame for others. None are left to mourn.  
Ghosts wander vndeplored by sons or fires:  
Nor is there room for tombs, or wood for fires.  
Astonished with these tempests of extremes:  
O jove, said I, if they be more than dreams  
That wrapped thee in Aegina's arms; nor shame  
That I, thy son, should thee my father name:  
Render me mine, or render me a grave!  
With prosperous thunderclaps a sign he gave.  
I take it, said I; let this Omen be  
A happy pledge of thy intents to me;  
Hard by, a goodly Oak, by fortune, stood,  
Sacred to jove; of Dodoneian wood:  
Graine-gathering Ants there, in long files I saw,  
Whose little mouths selfe-greater burdens draw;  
Keeping their paths along the rugged rind.  
While I admire their number: O divine,  
And ever helpful! give to me, said I,  
As many men; who may the dead supply.  
The trembling oak his lofty top declined:  
And murmured without a breath of wind.  
I shook with fear: my tresses stood an end:  
Yet on the earth and oak I kisses spend.  
I durst not seem to hope; yet hope I did:  
And in my breast my cherished wishes hid.  
Night came; and Sleep care-wasted bodies cheered:  
Before my eyes the selfsame Oak appeared;  
So many branches, as before there were;  
So many busy Ants those branches bear;  
So shook the Oak, and with that motion threw  
To under-earth the graine-supporting crew.  
Greater and greater strait they seem to sight:  
To raise themselves from earth, and stand upright.  
Whom numerous feet, black colour, lanknesse leave:  
And instantly a humane shape receive.  
Now Sleep withdrew. My dream I waking blame:  
And on the small-performing Gods exclaim.  
Yet heard a mighty noise; and seemed to hear  
Almost forgotten voices: yet I fear  
That this a dream was also. Whereupon,  
The door thrust open, in rushed Telamonius;  
Come forth, said he, O father; and behold  
What hope transcends; nor can with faith be told!  
Forth went I; and beheld the men which late  
My dream presented: such in every state  
I saw; and knew them. They salute their King.  
jove praised: a partio to the town I bring;  
Among the rest I share the fields: and call  
Them Myrmydons of their original.  
You see their persons: such their manners are  
As formerly. A people given to spare,  
Patient of labour; what they get, preserve.  
They, like in years and minds, these wars shall serve,  
And follow your conduct; when first this wind  
(The wind blow Easterly) that was so kind  
To bring you hither, will to your avail  
Convert itself into a Southern gale.  
Discourse thus entertained the day; with feasts  
They crown the evening: Sleep the Night invest▪  
The morning Sun projects his golden rays:  
Still Eurus blew; and their departure stays.  
Now Pallas sons to Shafalus resort,  
And Shafalus, with Pallas sons, to Court,  
With early visits: (sleep the King inchaines).  
Whom Phocus in the Presence entertains.  
For Peteus, with his brother Telamonius,  
To raise an army were already gone.  
Meanwhile th' Athenians Phocus leads into  
The Privy chamber, beautiful to view.  
Talking; his eyes upon the javelin seize,  
Which graced the singers of Aeolides.  
I haunt, said he, the woods; delight in blood  
Of savage beasts; yet know not of what wood  
Your dart is made of. If of ash it were  
‛ Told look more brown; if Cornel, 'twould appear  
More knotty: on what tree soe'er it grew,  
My eyes did never such another view.  
One of th' Actaean brethren made reply:  
You would more wonder at the quality.  
It hits the aimed at, not by fortune led;  
And of itself returns with slaughter red.  
Phocus the cause desireth much to know:  
From whence it came; and who did it bestow.  
He yields to his request; yet things well known,  
Restrained by modesty, he lets alone.  
Who touched with sorrow for his wife, that bleeds  
In his remembrance; thus with tears proceeds.  
This Dart, o Goddesse-borne, provokes these tearest  
And ever would, if endless were my years.  
This me, in my unhappy wife, destroyed:  
This gift I would I never had enjoyed!  
Procris Orithya's sister was; if Fame  
Have more informed you of Orithya's name.  
Yet she (should you their minds and forms confer)  
More worth the rape. Erechtheus, me to her,  
And love, unite. Then happy! happy, I  
Might yet have been. But o, the God's envy!  
Two months were now consumed in chaste delights  
When grey Aurora, having vanquished Night,  
Beheld me on the ever-fragrant hill  
Of steep Hymettus: and, against my will,  
As I my toils extended, bore me thence.  
I may the truth declare without offence:  
Though rosy be her cheeks; although she sway  
The dewy Confines of the Night and Day,  
And Nectar drink; my Procris all possessed:  
My heart was hers; my tongue her praise professed.  
I told her of our holy nuptial ties;  
Of wedlock's breach; and yet scarce tasted joys.  
Fire-red, she said; thy harsh complaints forbear:  
Possess thy Procris. Though so fair, so dear;  
Thou thou It wish th'hadst never known her, if I know  
Insewing fate: and angry, le's me go.  
Her words I ponder as I went along:  
And began to doubt she might my honour wrong.  
Her youth and beauty tempt me to distrust:  
Her virtue checks those fears, as most unjust.  
But I was absent: but example fed  
My jealousy: but lovers all things dread.  
I seek my sorrows; and with gifts intent  
To tempt the chaste. Aurora proves a friend  
To this suspicion; and my form translates.  
Unknown, I enter the Athenian gates;  
And than my own. The house from blame was free:  
In decent order, and perplexed for me.  
Scarce with a thousand sleights I gained a view:  
Viewed with astonishment, I scarce pursue  
My first intent: scarce could I but reveal  
The truth; and pardon with due kisses seal.  
She was full sad: yet lovelier none than she,  
Even in that sadness: sorrowful for me.  
How excellent, o Phocus, was that face,  
Which could in grief retain so sweet a grace?  
What need I tell how often I assailed  
Her vexed chasticie! how often failed!  
How often said the! One I only serve:  
For him, where ever, I my joys preserve.  
What mad man would such faith have farther pressed,  
But I? indushious in my own unrest.  
With deep protests, and gifts still multiplied,  
At length she wavers False of faith, I cried,  
Thou art disclosed: I, no adulterer,  
But thy wronged spouse: nor can this trial err.  
She made no answer, pressed with silent shame.  
Th'insidious house, and me, far more in blame,  
Forsaking▪ mankind for my sake eschews:  
And Diana like the mountain chase pursues.  
Abandoned; hotter flames my blood incense.  
I begged her pardon, and confessed m'offence:  
And said, Auro●a might have me subdued  
With such enticements, had but she so wooed.  
My fault confessed, her wrong revenged, we  
Grow reconciled; and happily agree.  
Besides herself, as though that gift were small,  
A Dog she gave: which Cynthia giving; All,  
Said she, surpass in swiftness: and this Spear  
You so commend, which in my hand I bear.  
Do you the fortune of the first inquire?  
Receive a wonder: and the fact admire.  
Dark prophecies, not understood of old,  
The Naiads with searching wits unfold.  
When sacred Themis, in that so obscure,  
Neglected grew. Nor could she this endure.  
A cruel Beast infests th' Aonian plains;  
To many fatal: feared by country Swains,  
Both for their cattle, and themselves. We met:  
And with our toils the ample fields beset.  
He nimbly skips above the upper lines:  
And mounting over, frustrates our designs.  
Their dogs the uncouple; whose pursuit he out-spring▪  
With no less speed, than if supplied by wings.  
All bid me let my ●alaps slip (for so  
My dog was called) who struggling long ago,  
Halfe-th●otled, strained the leash. No sooner gone,  
Than out of sight; his footsteps left upon  
The burning sand: who vanished from our eyes  
As swiftly as a well-driven iavelin flies▪  
Or as a singing pellet from a sling;  
Or as an arrow from a Cretan string.  
I mount a hill which overtopped the place;  
From thence beholding this admired chase.  
The Beast now pinched appears, now shuns by slight  
His catching jaws. Nor (crafty) runs outright;  
Nor trusts his heels: with nimble turnings shunning  
His urgent foe; cast back by overrunning.  
Who pressed, what only might in speed compare;  
Appears to catch th'uncaught; and mouths the air.  
My dart I take to aid: which, while I shook,  
And on the thong direct my hasty look  
To fit my fingers; looking up again,  
I saw two marble statues on the plain.  
Had you these seen, you could not choose but say  
That this appeared to run, and that to bay.  
That neither should each other overgo  
The Gods decreed: if Gods descend so low.  
Thus he: here paused. Then Phocus; Pray'vnfold  
Your darts offence. Which Shafalus thus told.  
joy grief foreruns: that joy we first recite.  
Fo●o, those times I mention with delight,  
When youth and hymen crowned our happy life:  
She, in her husband blest; I in my wife.  
In both one care, and one affection moves.  
She would not have exchanged my bed for Ioues;  
〈…〉 could have tempted my desire:  
Our bosom flamed with such an equal fire.  
When Sol had raised his beams above the floods;  
My custom was to trace the levy woods;  
Armed with this dart, I solitary went,  
Without horse, huntsmen, toils, or dogs of sent.  
Much killed; I to the cooler shades repair:  
And where the valley breathes a fresher air.  
Cool air I seek, while all with fervour gloes:  
Cool air expect, my travels sweet repose.  
Come air, I wont to sing, relieve th'oppressed;  
Come, o most welcome, glide into my breast:  
Now quench, as erst, in me this scalding heat.  
By chance I other blandishments repeat;  
(So Fates enforce) as, o my soul's delight!  
By thee I am fed and cheered: thy sweets excite  
My affections to these woods: o life of death!  
May ever I inhale thy quickening breath!  
A busy ear these doubtful speeches caught;  
Who oft-named air some much-loved Dryad thought  
And told to Procris, with a leuder tongue,  
His false surmises; with the song I sung.  
Love is too credulous. With grief she faints;  
And scarce reviving, bursts into complaints:  
My spotless faith with fury execrates.  
Woe's me, she cries, produced to cruel fates!  
Transported with imaginary blame,  
What is not, fears: an unsubstantial name.  
Yet grieves (poor soul!) as if in truth abused:  
Yet often doubts; and her distrust accused.  
Now holds the information for a lie:  
Nor will trust other witness than her eye.  
Aurora re-inthroned th'ensuing Day:  
I hunt, and speed. As on the grass I lay,  
Come air, said I, my tired spirits cheer.  
At this an unknown sigh invades my ear.  
Yet I; O come, before all joys preferred.  
Among the withered leaves a rustling heard,  
I threw my dart; supposing it some beast:  
But o, 'twas Procris! wounded on the breast,  
She shreckt, ay me! Her voice too well I knew:  
And thither, with my grief distracted, flew.  
Half dead, all blood-imbrewed, my wife I found:  
Her gift (alas!) exhaling from her wound.  
I raised her body, than my own more dear:  
To bind her wounds my lighter garment tear;  
And strive to stench the blood. O pity take,  
Said I, nor thus a guilty soul forsake!  
She, weak, and now a dying, thus applies  
Her tongues forced motion: By our nuptial ties;  
By heaven-imbowred Gods; by those below,  
To whose infernal monarchy I go:  
By that, if ever I deserved well;  
By this ill-fated love, for which I fell,  
Yet now in death most constantly retain;  
O, let not Air our chaster bed profane.  
This said; I showed, and she perceived how  
That error grew: but what availed it now?  
She sinks; her blood along her spirits took:  
Who looks on me as long as she could look.  
My lips her soul receive, with her last breath:  
Who, now resolved, sweetly smiles in death.  
The weeping Hero's told this tragedy  
To those that wept as fast. The King drew nigh  
And his two sons, with wel-armed Regiments,  
New-raised; which he to Shafalus presents.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The Eighth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
HArmonious walls. Lewd Scylla now despairs;  
With Nisus, changed: the Lark the Hobby dares.  
Ariadne's Crown a Constellation made.  
Th'inventive youth a Partridge; still afraid  
Of mounting. Meleager's Sisters mourn  
His tragedio: to Fowl, so named, turn▪  
Five water Nymphs the five Echinades  
Defigure. Perimele, near to these,  
Becomes an Island. jove and Hermes take  
The forms of men. A City turn ' t'a Lake:  
A Cottage to a Temple. That good pare,  
Old Baucis and Philemon, changed are  
At once to sacred Trees In various shapes  
Blew Proteus sports. Oft self▪ changed Metra scap●●  
Scorn'a ' servitude. The Stream of Calydon  
Forsakes his own, and other shapes puts on.  
NOw Lucifer exalts the Day: to hell  
Old Night descends. The Eastern winds now fell;  
Moist clouds arose: when gentle Southern gales  
Befriend returning Shafalus. Full sails  
Wing his successful course: who, long before  
All expectation, touched the wished shore.  
For no heart is so hard, that did but know,  
And would a lance against his bosom throw.  
It takes: with me, my country I intent  
To render up; and give these wars an end.  
What is● to intend? Each passage hath a guard;  
My father keeps the keys, and sees them bard.  
'Tis he defers my ●oyes; 'tis he I dread:  
Would I were not, or he were with the dead!  
●u●h, we are our own Gods. They thrive, that dare:  
And fortune is a foe to slothful praire.  
Long since, an other, scorched with such a fire,  
By death had ford's a way to her desire.  
Yet why should any more adventurous prove?  
I dare through sword and fire make way to Love..  
And yet here is no use of fire nor sword;  
But of my father's hair. This must afford  
What 〈◊〉 so much affect, and make me blest:  
〈◊〉 than all the treasure of the East.  
This said; Night, nurse of cares, her curtains drawn▪  
When in the dark she more audacious grew.  
In 〈◊〉 of rest, when tired with day-bred cares  
Sleep all invests; she silently repairs  
Into her father's bedchamber; and there  
Extracts (o horrid act ●) his fatal hair.  
〈…〉 of her wicked prey; with her she bore  
The 〈◊〉 spoil; unlocks a Postern door:  
〈…〉 the foe (bold by her merit made)  
〈…〉 unastonished, said.  
〈…〉 Seed,  
〈…〉 my Gods: no meed,  
〈…〉 ●aire receive,  
〈…〉 not think a hair! give,  
But my old father's head. With that, presents  
The gift with wicked hand, and bad ostents.  
Minos rejects it: and much terrified  
With horror of so foul a deed, replied:  
The Gods exile thee (O thou most abhorred!)  
Their world; to thee nor Land nor Sea afford▪  
Howe'er Ioues Crete, the world wherein I reign,  
Shall such a Monster never entertain.  
This said: the most just Victor doth impose  
Laws, no less just, upon his vanquished foes.  
Then orders, that they forth with oars convey  
Aboard the brasse-beakt ships, and anchors way.  
When Scylla saw the Gnossian navy swim;  
And that her treason was abhorred by him:  
To violent anger she converts her prayers.  
And Furie-like, with stretched arms and spread hairs;  
Cried; Whither fliest thou? leaving me for-lore,  
That conquest-crowned thee? o preferred before  
My Country! Father! 't was not thou didst win;  
But I that gave: my merit, and my sin.  
Not this; not such affection, could persuade:  
Nor that on thee I all my hopes had laid.  
For whither should I go, thus left alone?  
What? to my Country? that's by me o'erthrown.  
Were't not? my treason dooms me to exile.  
Or to my father; given unto thy spoil?  
Me worthily the Citizens will hate:  
And neighbours fear th'example in their State.  
ay, out of all the world myself have thrown,  
To purchase an access to Crect alone.  
Which if denied; and left to such despair▪  
Europa ne'er one so ungrateful bare:  
But swallowing Syrts, Charybdis chafed with wind;  
Or some fell Tigers of th' Armenian kind.  
Io●e'● no● thy father; nor with forged shape  
Of Bull beguiled, thy mother could her rape.  
That story of thy glorious race is feigned:  
For she a wild and lovelesse Bull sustained.  
O father Nisus, thy revenge behold!  
rejoice, O City, by my treason sold!  
Death, I confess, I merit. Yet would I  
Might, by their hands whom I have injured, die.  
I or why shouldst thou, who only didst subdue  
By my offending, my offence pursue?  
My Country and my father felt this sin:  
Which unto thee a courtesy hath been.  
Thou worthy art of such a wife, as stood  
A Bulls hot incest in a Cow of wood;  
Whose shameless womb a monstrous burden bare.  
Ah! do my sorrows to thy ears repair?  
Or are my fruitless words borne by that wind  
That bra●es thee hence, and leaves a wretch behind?  
What though Pasiphae a Bull preferred?  
‛ Thou far more brutish than the savage Herd.  
Woe's me! Make hast I must: the waves with or●●  
Refound, his ship for sakes, with us, our shores.  
In vaine ●●le follow thee ungrateful king:  
And while I to thy crooked vessel cling  
Be dragged through drenching seas. This having said,  
Attempts the waves, by Cupid● strengthening aid,  
And cleaves t●his ship. Her father, now high-flowne  
Strikes 〈…〉 a red-maild Hobby grown)  
And st●●● 〈◊〉 her with his golden ●eares.  
She ●●ps her h●●d, in feebled by her fears.  
While yet a falling, that she might eschew  
The threatening sea, light wings t'her shoulders grew.  
Now changed to a bird in sight of all:  
This, of her tufted crown we Ciris call.  
No sooner Minos touched the Cretan ground,  
But by an hundred Bulls, with garlands crowned.  
His vows to conquest-giving jove he paid:  
And all his palace with the spoil arrayed.  
And now his family's reproach increased.  
That uncouth prodigy, half man, half beast,  
His mother's dire adultery descried.  
Minos resolves his marriage shame to hide  
In multitude of rooms, perplexed and blind  
The work t'excelling Daedalus assigned.  
Who sense distracts, and error leads a maze  
Through subtle ambages of sundry ways.  
As Phrygian Meander sports about  
The flowery vales; now winding in, now out;  
Himself encounters, sees his following floods,  
His streams leads to their springs; and, doubling, scuds  
To long mocked seas: so Daedalus compiled  
Innumerable byways, which beguiled  
The senses conduct; that himself with much  
Ado returns: the fallacies were such.  
When in this fabric Minos had enclosed  
This double form, of man and beast composed;  
The Monster, with Athenian blood twice fed,  
His own, the third Lot, in the ninth year, shed  
Then by a Clew reguided to the door  
(A virgin's counsel) never found before;  
Aegides, with rapt Ariadne, makes  
For Dia: on the naked shore forsakes  
His confident and sleepe-oppressed Mate.  
Now ●pining in complaints, the desolate  
〈…〉 with ma●●age, comforts; and that she  
Might glorious by a Constellation be;  
Her head ●●burtthens of her crown, and threw  
〈◊〉 to heaven: through thinner air it flew.  
〈…〉, the jewels that the verge inchace  
〈…〉 to f●ies; fast-fixed in one place;  
Th' 〈…〉 retaining. They their station take,  
〈…〉 that Kneels, and Him who holds the Snake.  
The Sea imprisoned Paedalus, meanwhile,  
W● 〈…〉 of 〈◊〉, and of his long exile;  
〈◊〉 with his country's love, and place of birth;  
Thus said: Though Minos' ba● both sea and earth;  
Yet heaven is free. That course attempt I dare:  
Held he the world, he could not hold the air.  
I his said● to arts unknown he bends his wits  
In na●●es change. The quills in order knits,  
Beginning with the least: the longer still  
The sh●●t succeeds; much like a rising hill.  
Their in all pipes, the shepherds, long ago,  
(F●am'd of uneq ●all reeds) contrived so.  
With threads the midst, with wax he joins the ends:  
And these, as natural wings, a little bends.  
Young, ●●us stood by, who little thought  
That with his death he played; and smiling, caught  
The feathers that lay hulling in the ayte:  
Now chases the yellow wax with busy care,  
And interrupts his Si●e. When his last hand  
He had imposed: with newmade wings he ●and  
The ayte that bore them. Then instructs his son:  
●e sure that in the middle course thou run.  
Dank seas will clog the wings that lowly fly:  
The Sun will burn them if thou forced too high.  
'twixt either keepe. Nor on Boôtes gaze,  
Nor Helicè, nor stern Orion's rays:  
But follow me. At once, he doth advice;  
And unknown pinions to his shoulders ties,  
Amid his work and words a tide of tears  
Fret his old cheeks, who trembling fingers rears.  
Then kissed him, never to be kissed more:  
And raised on lightsome feathers flies before;  
His fear behind: as birds through boundless sky  
From airy nests produce their young to fly;  
Exhorts to follow: taught his baneful skill;  
Waves his own wings, his sons observing still.  
These, while some Angler, fishing with a cane;  
Or Shepherd, learning on his staff; or Swain;  
With wonder views: he thinks them Gods that glide  
Through airy regions. Now on the left side  
Leaves Juno's Samos, Delos, Paros white,  
Lebynthos, and Calydna on the right,  
Flowing with honey. When the boy, much taken  
With pleasure of his wings, his Guide forsook:  
And ravished with desire of heaven, aloft  
Ascends. The odor-yeelding wax more soft  
By the swift Sun's vicinity now grew:  
Which late his feathers did together glue.  
That thawed; he shakes his naked arms, that bare,  
As than no sail, nor could contain the air.  
When crying, Help, o father! his exclaim  
Blue Seas suppressed which took from him their name.  
His father, now no father, left alone,  
Cried Icarus! where art thou? which way flown?  
What region, Icarus, doth thee contain.  
Then spies the feathers floating on the Main.  
He cursed his arts interies th● corpse, that gave  
The land a name, which gave his son a grave.  
The Partridge from a thicket him surveyed;  
As in a tomb his wretched son he laid;  
Who clapped his fanning wings, and loudly churd  
T● express his joy: as then an only bird.  
So made of late (unknown in former th● e)  
O Pa●●lus, by thy eternal crime.  
To thee thy Sister gave him to be taught;  
Who little of his destiny forethought:  
The boy than twelve year aged; of a mind  
Apt for ●●struction, and to Arts inclined.  
He Saws invented, by the bones that grow  
In fithes' backs; the steel indenting so.  
And two-shankt Compasses with rivet bound;  
Th●one to stand still, the other turning round  
In 〈◊〉 distance. Dae●●a●us this stung:  
Who from Manerua sacred turret flung  
The eau●d headlong; and his falling feigns.  
Him Pall●s, fautor of good wits, sustains:  
Who strait the figure of foul assumes;  
Clad in the midst of air with freckled plunges.  
The vigour of his late swift wit now came  
Into his feet, and wings: he keeps his name.  
They never mount aloft, nor trust their birth  
To tops of ●●ees; but sleck as low as earth,  
And lay their eggs in tufts. In mind they bear  
Then ancient fall, haughty places fear.  
I your d ● ae●●u now in S●c●lia lights:  
In whole defence hospitious Coca●●● fights.  
Now Athens by Aegoeus glorious Seed  
Was from her lamentable tribute freed.  
They crown their Temples: warlike Pallas, jove,  
Invoke; with all the Deities above.  
Whom now they honour with the large expense  
Of blood, free gifts, and heaps of frankincense.  
Vast fame through all th' Argolian cities spread  
His praise: and all that rich Acbaia fed  
His aid in their extremities entreat,  
His aid afflicted Calydon (though great  
In Meleager) sought. The cause a Boar:  
Diana's revenge, and horrid Seruatore.  
For Ocneus, with a plenteous harvest blest;  
To Ceres his first fruits of corn addressed,  
To Pallas oil, and to Lyaeus' wine.  
Ambitious honours all the Powers divine  
Reap from the rurals; yet neglect to pay  
Diana dues; her Altars empty lay.  
Anger affects the Gods. This will not we  
Unpunished bear: nor unrevenged, said she,  
Though un-adored, shall they vaunt we be.  
With that she sent into Oeniean fields  
A vengeful Boar. Rank-grast Epirus yields  
No big-boned bullock of a larger breed:  
But those are less which in Sicilia feed.  
His eyes blaze blood and fire: his stiff neck bears  
Horrible bristles, like a grove of spears.  
A boiling foam upon his shoulders flows  
From grinding jaws: his tusks equal those  
Of Indian Elephants: his fell mouth casts  
Hot lightning; and his breath the virdure blasts.  
He tramples under foot the growing corn;  
And leaves the sighing husbandman for lost;  
Reaping the uper eats. Their usual grain  
The baines and threshing floors expect in vain.  
Broad-spreading vines he with their burden, sheres:  
And boughs from ever-leavy olives tears.  
Then falls on beasts: the He●dsmen, now unseard;  
Nor dogs, nor raging Bulls, defend their Herd.  
The people fly; nor are secure of mind  
In walled towns, ●ll M●leager, joined  
With youths of choicest worth, inflamed with praise,  
Attempts his death. The twined jyndarides;  
One for his horsemanship, the other famed  
For hurlebats; jason, who the first ship framed;  
Theseus with his I trithous, a pair  
Of happy friends; and Lynetus, Aphar's heir;  
The two Thest●adae, Leucippus crowned  
For strength; Acastus for his dart renowned;  
Swift Idas, Caeneus, not a maiden then;  
Hippothous, dryas; Phoenix (best of men,)  
A●yntors issue; both th' Actorides,  
And P●yleus sent from El●, came with these:  
I here●es hope; adventurous telamon;  
And he who called the great Achilles' son;  
H 〈…〉 the quick graced  
E●●ytion; and ●●●ion, who surpassed  
In ●unning 〈◊〉 the Naeryc●an,  
With 〈…〉 Hyleus, Hip●asan,  
Now yoath'all 〈◊〉: ●ons to that in●●●t  
〈…〉, sent:  
〈…〉 in law, 〈◊〉 bred  
〈…〉 well read  
In fates, 〈…〉, not as yet betrayed  
B'his wife; Tegeaean, Atalant ', a maid  
Of passing beauty, sprung from Schoenus race:  
Of high Lycaean woods the only grace.  
A polished Zone her upper garment bound;  
And in one knot her artless hair was wound:  
Her arrow's ivory guardian clattering hung  
On her left shoulder; and a bow well strung  
Her left hand held Her looks a wench displayed  
In a boy's face, a boy's face in a maid.  
The Calydonian Heros her beheld  
And wished at once: his wishes fate repelled.  
Who lurking flames attracts; and said, O blessed  
Is he, whom thou shalt with thy joys invest!  
But time, and shame, with further speech dispense:  
Urged by a work of greater con'equence.  
A Wood o'ergrown with trees, yet never field,  
Mounts from a Plain, that all beneath beheld.  
The glory-thirsting Gallants this ascend.  
Forthwith a part their corded toils extend;  
Some hounds uncouple; some the tract of feet  
Together trace: and danger long to meet.  
A Dale there was, through which the raine-raised flood  
Oft tumbled down, and in the bottom stood:  
replete with pliant willows, marish weeds,  
Sharp rushes, osiers, and long slender reeds.  
The Boar from thence dislodged, like lightaing crushed  
Through justling clouds, among the hunters rushed:  
Bears down the obvious trees; the crashing woods  
Report their fall. The youths each other bloods  
With high-raised shoots inflame: who keep their stands:  
And shake their broad-tipt spear●● with threatening hands.  
The dogs he scatters, those that durst oppose  
His horrid fury, wounds with ganching blows.  
F●●ton first his iavelin vainly cast,  
Which struck a beech. The next his sides had passed,  
But that with too much strength it over-flew:  
The weapon Pagasaean jason threw.  
O ●habus, said Ampycides, If I  
Have honoured, and do honour thee, apply  
Thy succour in success of my intents.  
The God, as much as lay in him, assents:  
But from the dart the head Diana took;  
Which gave no wound, although the Bore it struck.  
The beast like lightning burns, thus chafed with ire:  
His grim eyes shine, his breast breathes flames of fire.  
And as a stone which some huge engine throws  
Against a wall, or bulwark man'd with foes:  
The deadly Boar with such sure violence  
Assaults their forces. The right wings defence;  
F●palaman, and ●elagonus, cast  
On ●ounding earth: drawn off with timely haste.  
〈◊〉, great 〈◊〉 son,  
Could not so well his slaughtering tusks shun:  
Which cut the sbrinking sinews in his thigh,  
Even as he trembled, and prepared to fly.  
And 〈◊〉 long had perished, perchance,  
〈…〉 war, but, vaulting on a lance,  
I●●●ooke a tree, which there his branches spread;  
And safely saw the foe from whom h'had fled.  
Who, ●ull of ●age, his vengeful tusks whets  
Upon an Oak; and dite destruction threats.  
When ●●usting to his new-edged arms, the Bore  
The manly thigh of great ●●●thyus tore.  
The brother I wins, not yet celestial Stars;  
Conspicuous both, both terrible in wars;  
Both mounted on white Steeds, a loft both bare  
Their glittering spears, which trembled in the air:  
And both had sped; but that the Swine withdrew  
Where neither horse nor iavelin could pursue.  
In follows Telamonius, hot of the chase;  
And stumbling at a root, fell on his face.  
While Peleus lifts him up, a winged fight  
Tegaea drew, which flew as swift as sight:  
Below his care the fixed arrow stood,  
And stained his bristles with a little blood.  
The Virgin less rejoiced in the blow  
Than Meleager;: who first saw it flow,  
First showed his mates the blood: O most renowned  
Said he, thy virtue hath thy honour crowned.  
The men, they blush for shame; each other cheer;  
And high-raised souls, with clamours higher rear:  
Their spears in clusters fling; which make no breach  
Through idle store: and throws their throws impeach.  
Behold, Ancaeus with a pole-axe stern  
To his own fate; who said, By me O learn  
You youths, how much a man's sharp steel exceeds  
A woman's weapons, and applaud my deeds.  
Though Diana should take arms, and in this strife  
Protect her beast, she should not save his life.  
Thus gloriously he boasts; in both his hands  
Advanced his pole-axe, and on tiptoes stands.  
Whom, ere his arms descend, the furious Swine  
Prevents, and sheaths his tusks in his groin.  
Down fell. Ancaeus, out of his bowels gushed,  
All gore; with blood the earth, as guilty blushed  
Ixion's son Pirithous forward pressed:  
And with an able at me his lance addressed.  
To whom Aegides; O to me more dear  
Than my own life! my better half, forbear.  
The w●●e in valour should aloof contend:  
Fool hardy courage was A●●aeus end.  
This said his heavy cornel; with a head  
Of b●asle, he hurls: which sure had struck him dead  
(It was delivered with so true an aim)  
But that a Medlar interposed the same.  
Aeson●●es then threw his thrilling lance;  
Which hit (diverted from the mark by chance)  
A dog between his baying jaws: the wound  
Rushed through his guts, and nailed him to the ground.  
〈◊〉 varying hand discharged two spears:  
The earth the one, the beast, the other bears.  
While now he raves, grunts, turns his body round,  
Casts blood and some; the author of his wound  
Ru●● in; provokes his greater wrath; and where  
Th● thields diffever, thrusts his deadly spear.  
They all with cheerful shouts their joys unfold;  
Shake his victorious hands; the Beast behold  
With wonder, whose huge bulk possessed so much:  
And hardly think it safe the slain to touch:  
Yet with his blood they die their javelins red.  
He set, his foot upon his horrid head;.  
My right, said he, receive rare Nonacrine,  
And let my glory ever share with thine.  
Then gave the bristled spoil, in terror charmed;  
And ghastly head with monstrous ●ushes armed.  
She in the Gift and Gi●er pleasure took.  
All 〈◊〉, with preposterous envy, struck.  
On whom the violent, 〈◊〉 frown;  
And cry aloud with stretcht-out arms; Lay down:  
Nor, Woman, of our titles us bereave,  
Lest thee thy beauty's confidence deceive;  
His aid to weak whom love hath rest of sight:  
And snatched from her, her gift; from him, his right.  
O●nides swells; his looks with anger stern:  
You ravishers of others honours, learn  
(Said he) the distance between words and deeds.  
With wicked steel secure Plexippus speeds.  
While Toxeus, whether to revenge his blood,  
Or shun his brother's fortune, wavering stood;  
He clears the doubt: the weapon, hot before  
By th' others wound, new heats in his heart's gore.  
Gifts to the holy Gods Althaea brings  
For her son's victory; and Paeans sings.  
When back she saw her slaughtered brothers brought:  
At that sad object screecht; and griefe-distraught,  
The City fills with outcries: off she tears  
Her royal robes, and funeral garments wears.  
But told by whom they fell; no longer mourns:  
Rage dries her eyes; her tears to vengeance turns.  
The triple Sisters erst a brand conveyed  
Into the fire; her belly newly laid;  
Thus chanting, while they spun the fatal twine:  
O lately borne, one period we assign  
To thee and to this brand. The charm they wove  
Into his fate; and then the chamber leave.  
His mother snatched it with an hasty hand  
Out of the fire; and quenched the flagrant brand.  
This in an inward closer closely lays:  
And by preserving it, preserves his days.  
Which now produced; a pile of wood she raised,  
That by the hostile fire invaded, blazed.  
Four times she proffers to the greedy flame  
The fatal brand: as oft withdrew the same.  
A Mother, and a Sister, now contend:  
And two-divided names, one bosom rend.  
Oft fear of future crimes a paleness bred:  
Oft burning Fury gave her eyes his red.  
Now seems to threaten with a cruel look:  
And now appears like one that pity took.  
Her tears the fervour of her anger dries:  
Yet found she tears again to drown her eyes.  
●uea as a ship, when wind and tide contends,  
F●eles both their furies, and with either bends:  
So Thestias, whom unsteddie passion drives;  
Fie changes, calms her rage, and rage revives.  
A sister love at length subdues a mothers:  
That blood may appease the ghosts of bleeding brothers,  
Impiously pious. Flames, to ashes turn  
This brand, said she, and my loathed bowels burn.  
Then, holding in her hand the fatal wood;  
As she before the funeral altar stood:  
You triple Powers, who guilty Souls pursue;  
Fun enides these Rites of vengeance view.  
●act the crime I punish. Death must be  
By death atoned. On murder, murder we  
Accumulate; redoubling sunerall.  
Due Image, by congested sorrows fall.  
Shall Oeneus joy in his victorious son?  
Sad Thestius robbed of his? be both undone.  
I ●●ke up, o you my brother's ghosts; you late  
●●●ledged souls; see how I right your fate.  
A 〈◊〉 to: this infernal sacr●fizo,  
Of high esteem: my womb● accursed prize.  
Ay me! o whither am I rapt! excuse  
A mother, brothers. Trembling hands refuse  
Their fainting aid. He merits death: yet by  
A mother's rage me thinks he should not dye.  
Then shall he scape? alive, a victor, feast  
In proud success; of Calydon possessed?  
You, little ashes, and i'll Shades, sorlorne?  
I'll not endure it. Perish Villain, borne  
To our immortal ruin. Ruinated  
With thee, thy father's hopes, his crown and state.  
Where is a mothers hear? a parent's prayer?  
Th' unthought-of burden which I ten months bare?  
O would, while yet an infant, the first flame  
Had thee devoured; nor I opposed the same!  
Thy life, my gift; by thine own merit dye:  
A just reward for thy impiety.  
Thy twice-given life restore; first by my womb,  
Last by this ravished brand; or me a tomb  
With my poor brothers. fain I would pursue  
Revenge; yet would not. O, what shall I do!  
Before my eyes my brother's wounds now bleed:  
And the sad image of so soul a deed.  
Now pity, and a mother's name control  
My stern intention o distracted soul!  
You have won, my brothers; but, alas, ill won:  
So that, while thus I comfort you, I run  
Your fate. With eyes reversed, her quaking hand  
To trembling flames exposed the funeral brand.  
The Brand appears to sigh, or sighs expires:  
Wrapped in th'embracements of unwilling fires▪  
Unknowing Meleager, absent broils  
Even in those flames: his blood, thick-panting, boyles  
I unseen fire. Who such tormenting pains  
With more than manly fortitude sustains.  
Yet grieves that by a slothful death he falls  
Without a wound: Ancaeus happy calls.  
His aged father, brothers, sisters, wife,  
Now groaning names, with his last words of life:  
Perhaps his mother. Flames and pains increase:  
Again they languish; and together cease.  
To liquid a●●e his vanished spirits turn.  
And ●able coals in shrouds of ashes mourn.  
I owe he● high Calydon: the yongue, the old,  
Ignoble, noble, all, their griefs unfold.  
The C●lydonian matrons cut their hair;  
〈◊〉 their beauties: cry, woe and despair!  
His hea●ie head with dust his father hides;  
●yes grovelling on the ground; and old age chides.  
For now his mother, by her guilt pursued,  
Revenging steel in her own breast imbrued:  
Though jove an hundred able tongues bestow,  
A 〈◊〉 that should with full invention flow,  
A 〈◊〉 intuse into my breast;  
〈◊〉 ●isters follows could not be expressed.  
Then selves for getting decency, deface:  
As long as he a body, it embrace;  
〈◊〉 his pal●lips: when turned to ashes, they  
The ashes in their bruised bosoms lay:  
●allon his tomb; his name, that there appears;  
In●old, and fill the characters with tears.  
But when Danae's wrath was satisfied  
W●an Oeniu ●rery: they all (beside  
〈◊〉 Gorge and the lovely D●ian●●)  
On plumy pinions, by her power, aspire;  
With long-extended wings, and beaks of horn:  
Who through the air in varied shapes are borne.  
Mean while to Pallas towers Aegides hies  
(His part performed in that joint enterprise)  
Whose haste raine-raised Achelous stayed.  
Renoun'd ●ecropian Prince, the River said,  
Vouchsafe my roof; n●● to th'impetuous flood  
Commit thy person; Oft huge logs of wood,  
And broken rocks, downe-tumbling, loudly roar.  
Houses and Herds not seldom here to fore  
Hurried away: nor was the Ox of force  
To keep his stand; nor swiftness saved the Horse.  
And when dissolved snow from mountains poured,  
The turning eddies many have devoured.  
More safe to stay until the current run  
Within his bounds. To whom Aegaeus son:  
'twere folly, if not madness, to refuse  
Thy house and counsel: both I mean to use.  
Then exters his large cave, where Nature played  
The A●tisun; of hollow Pumice made,  
And rugged Tophas; floord with humid moss:  
The roofe pure white and purple shells imbosse.  
Now had Hyperion past two parts of day:  
When Theseus, with the partners of his way.  
Piri●hous, and Lelex the renown  
Of Troezen, now appearing grey; sat down:  
And whom the River glad of such a guest,  
Preferred unto the honour of his feast.  
Forthwith, barefooted Nymphs bring in the meat:  
That ta'en away, upon the table set  
Crowned cups of wine. When Theseus turned his face  
To under seas; and pointing, said; What place  
Is yon, and of what name, that stands alone?  
And yet me thinks it should be more than one.  
It is not one, the courteous Flood replies,  
But five; their neighbourhood deceives your eyes.  
The less t'admire Diana, late despised,  
Five Nymphs they were: who having sacrificed  
Ten beefs, invited to their festival  
The rural Gods; myself forgot by all.  
At this my surges swell. ay, then as great  
As ever, with enraged waters fret.  
The woods from woods, and fields from fields I tear  
With them, the Nymphs (now mindful of me) bear  
In exile to the Deep: whose waves, with mine,  
That then united mass of earth disjoin  
Into as many pieces as in seas  
Are of the flood embraced Echin●des.  
Yet see one Isle, far, o far off removed!  
Called Perim●le; once by me beloved.  
ay, from this Nymph, her virgin honour took  
R●●●damas his daughter could not brook:  
〈◊〉 cast her from a rock into the Deep.  
Whom while my thickened streams from sinking keep;  
〈◊〉: O Neptune, thou that dost command  
●he wandering waves that beat upon the land;  
To whom we Rivers run, in whom we end;  
Incline a gentle care. I did offend;  
In wronging whom I bear: if pious; he  
Would both have pitied her, and pardoned me.  
Her, whom his fury hath from earth exiled,  
And in the strangling waters drenched his child;  
A place afford: or let her be a place  
Which I may ever with my streams embrace.  
His head the King of Surges forward shaken:  
And, in assenting, all the Ocean struck.  
The Nymph yet swims; although with fear oppressed.  
I laid my hand upon her parting breast:  
While thus I handled her, I might perceive  
The earth about her stifning body cleave.  
Now, with a mass enfolded, as she swims,  
An Island rose from her transformed limbs.  
He held his peace. This admiration won  
In all: derided by Ixion's son:  
By nature rough, and one who did despise  
All able Gods: who said; Thou tell'st us lies,  
And thinkst the Gods too potent: as if they  
Could give new shapes, or take our old away.  
His saying all amazed and none approuded:  
Most Lelex, ripe in age and wisdom, moved.  
Heaven's power immense and endless, none can shun▪  
Said he; and what the Gods would do, is done,  
To check your doubt; on Phrygian hills there grows  
An Oak by a Line-tree, which old walls enclose.  
Myself this saw, while I in Phrygia stayed;  
By Pitthens sent: where erst his father swayed.  
Hard by, a lake, once habitable ground;  
Where Coats and fishing Cormorants abound.  
Jove, in a humane shape; with Mercury;  
(His heels vnwinged) that way their steps apply.  
Who guest-rites at a thousand houses crave;  
A thousand shut their doors: One only gave.  
A small thatched Cottage: where, a pious wife  
Old Baucis, and Phileman, led their life.  
Both equall-aged. In this, their youth they spent;  
In this grew old: rich only in content.  
Who poverty, by bearing it, declind:  
And made it easy with a cheerful mind.  
None Master, not none Servant, could you call:  
They who command, obey; for two were all.  
jove father came, with his Cyllenian mate;  
And stooping, enters at the humble gate.  
Sat down, and take your ease, Philemon said.  
While busy Bau●is straw-stuft cushions laid:  
Who stud abroad the glowing coals, that lay  
In smothering ashes; ●ak't up yesterday.  
Dry bark, and withered leaves, thereon she thrown▪  
Whose feeble breath to flame the cinders blows.  
Then slender clests, and broken branches gets:  
And over all a little kettle sets.  
Her husband gathers cole-flowrs, with their leaves;  
Which from his gretefull garden he receives:  
took down a flitch of bacon with a prung,  
That long had in the smoky chimney hung:  
Whereof a little quantity he cuts:  
And it into the boiling liquor puts.  
This seething; they the time beguile with speech:  
Vnser sword of stay. A bowl of beech,  
There, by the handle hung upon a pin:  
This 〈◊〉 with warm water; and therein  
Wash then feet. A moste-stuft bed and pillow  
Lay on a homely bed steed made of willow:  
A 〈…〉, only us d at feasts, they spread:  
Though course, and old; yet fit for such a bed.  
Down 〈◊〉 the Gods. The palsie-snaken Dame  
Sets forth a ta le with three legs; one lame,  
And she●ter then the rest, a pot share rears:  
This, now made level, with green mint she clears.  
Whereon they particoloured olives set,  
Autumnal Cornels, in tart pickle wet;  
Cool endive, radish, new eggs roasted rear,  
And late-prest cheese; which earthen dishes bear.  
A goblet, of the self same silver wrought;  
And bowls of beech, with wax well varnished, brought.  
Hot victuals from the fire were forth with scent:  
Then wine, not yet of perfect age, present.  
This ta'en away; the second Course now comes:  
Philberts, dry figs, with rugged dates, ripe plums,  
Sweet smelling apples, disht in osier twines;  
And purple grapes new gathered from their vines:  
I'th' midst, a honey comb. Above all these;  
A cheerful look, and ready will to please.  
Meanwhile, the Muple cup itself doth fill:  
And oft exhausted, is replenished still.  
Astonished at the miracle; with fear  
Philemon, and the aged Baucis, rear  
Their trembling hands in prayer: and pardon crave,  
For that poor entertainment which they gave.  
One Goose they had, their cottaqes chief guard;  
Which they to hospitable God's award:  
Who long their slow pursuit deluding, flies  
To jupiter; so saved from sacrifice.  
weare Gods, said they; Revenge shall all undo:  
Alone immunity we grant to you.  
Together leave your house; and to yond hill  
Follow our steps. They both obey their will;  
The Gods conducting; feebly both ascend;  
Their stanes, with theirs; they, with times burden bend.  
A slight-shot from the top, review they take;  
Thus steming: Not the Goddesse-loued alone;  
But though this were the Goddess, she should down:  
And sweep the earth with her aspiring crown.  
A he advanced his arms to strike; the Oak  
〈◊〉 sighed and trembled at the threatening stroke.  
His leaves and acorns pale together grew:  
And colour-changing branches sweat cold dew.  
Then wounded by his impious hand, the blood  
〈◊〉 from th'incision in a purple flood.  
Much like a mighty ox, that falls before  
The sacred altar; spouting streams of gore.  
On all amazement seized: when One of all  
The came deters; nor would his axe let fall.  
contracting his stern brows; Receive, said he,  
Thy preties reward; and from the tree  
The stroke converting, lops his head; then strake  
The Oak again: from whence a voice thus spoke;  
A Nymph am I, within this tree enshrined,  
Relieved ot Ceres. O profane of mind,  
Vengeance is near thee. With my parting breath  
I prophesy: a comfort to my death.  
He still his guilt pursues: who overthrows  
With cabels, and innumerable blows.  
The sturdy Oak: which, nodding long, down rushed;  
And in ●●s lofty fall his fellows crushed.  
Their sister, and their grove, the Nymphs lament;  
Who h●d in sable stoles, to Ceres went;  
On Eriach ●hen just revenge require.  
who readily consents to their desire.  
The faire-browed Goddess shakes her shining hairs:  
With that, the fields shook all their golden ears.  
Who to apitteous punishment proceeds,  
(Had he had any pity in his deeds)  
By starving. But since not by fatal doom,  
Ceres and Famine might together come:  
A mountain Fairy of th' Oreades  
Dispatcheth thither, with such words as these.  
In frosty Scythia lies a land, forlorn  
And barren; bearing neither fruit nor corn,  
Numb Cold, pale Hue, I'll Ague, there abide;  
And fasting Famine. Bid the Fury glide  
Into his cursed entrailes, and devour  
All plenty: let her rage subdue my power.  
But lest long ways thy journey tedious make:  
My chariot and my yoked dragons take.  
Taking her chariot; through the empty skies  
To Scythia and rough Caucasus she flies.  
There, in a stony field, sad Famine found;  
Tearing with teeth and nails the foodless ground;  
With snarled hair, sunk eyes, looks pale and dead,  
Lips white with slime, thin teeth with rust o'erspread;  
Hidebound, through which her clinged guts appear;  
Dry bones, in spare and crooked hips, upbeare;  
Her belly bellylesse: low hung her breast;  
So lank, as if her bosom had no chest:  
The rising knuckles falling flesh augment;  
Round knees and ankles leanely eminent,  
Espied far off (she durst not be so bold  
To come too near) the Nymph her message told.  
After a little stay, although she were▪  
Fare off, although but now arrived there;  
She famine felt. Who wheels about her Snakes▪  
And her high passage to Aemonia takes.  
Famine obeys the Goddesses command;  
Though their endeavours still opposed stand.  
Who, by a tempest hurried through the skies,  
Enters the wretch's roofe: besides him lies,  
Then fast asleep: (for now Nights heavy charms  
All eyes had closed) imbra'st himin her arms;  
Herself infused; breathes on his face and breast:  
And empty veins with hunger's rage possessed.  
This thus performed forsakes the fruitful earth:  
And back returns to her abodes of dearth.  
Sound Sleep as yet with pleasurable wings  
On Frisichth●n gentle slumber flings.  
Who dreams of feasts, extends his idle jaws;  
With labouring teeth fantastically chaws.  
Deludes his throat by swallowing empty fare:  
And for affected food devours the air.  
Awaked; hot famine raves through all his veins:  
And in his guts, and greedy palate reigns.  
Forthwith; what Sea, what Earth, what Air affords,  
Acquires: complains of starving at full boards.  
In banquets, banquets seeks. What might alone  
Have jownes and Nations fed; suffice not one.  
Hunger increaseth with increased repast.  
And as all rivers to the Ocean hast;  
Who thirsty still, drinks up the stranger floods:  
As ravenous fires refuse no proffered foods;  
Huge piles receive; the more they have, the more  
By much desire; made hungry with their store.  
So 〈◊〉 thou, of a mind profane,  
Full dishes empties, and demands again.  
Meat breeds in him an appetite to meat;  
Who ever empty, still prepares to eat.  
His bellies gulf his patrimonic wastes:  
Consuming famine yet unlesned lasts;  
And his insatible throats extent  
Now all his wealth, into his bowels sent:  
A daughter left, unworthy scuh a Sire,  
The beggar sold to feed his hunger's fire.  
Her noble thoughts base servitude disdain:  
Who now her hands extending to the Main;  
O thou that hadst my maidenhead, said she,  
Thy ravished spoil from hated bondage free!  
Neptune had this: who to her prayer consents.  
And, though then by her master seen, prevents  
His following search: transforming of his Rape  
Into a man; masked in a fisher's shape.  
Angler, her master said, that with thy bait  
Concealest thy hook; so prosper thy deceit,  
So rest the sea composed; so may the fish  
Be credulous, and taken at thy wish;  
As thou reueal'st her, who in garments, poor,  
And ruffled hair, late stood upon this shore.  
Fox here, but very now, I saw her stand:  
Nor farther trace her footsteps in the sand.  
She, Neptune's bounty finding; well a paid  
To be enquired for herself; thus said.  
Pardon me Sir, who e'er you are; my eyes  
Have been attentive on this exercise.  
To win belief; so may the God of Seas  
Assist my cunning in such arts as these  
As late nor man nor maid I saw before  
Yourself, myself excepted, on this shore.  
He credits, and beguiled, the shore forsook:  
When she again her former figure took,  
Her father, seeing she could change her shape▪  
Ost sold her; who as often made a escape.  
Now hartlike, now a cow, a bird, a mare:  
And fed his hunger with ill-purchast fare.  
But when his malady all means had spent,  
He gave the mischief a new nourishment.  
Now to devour his proper flesh proceeds:  
And by diminishing, his body feeds.  
What need I dwell on foreign facts? even we  
Can vary shapes, though limited they be  
Now seem I as I am; oft like a Snake:  
And many times a Bulls horned figure take.  
But while I horns assumed, one thus was broke,  
As you behold. This, with a sigh, he spoke.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The ninth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
A Serpont Achelôus: now a Bull:  
His senered Horn with plenty ever full.  
Lichas a Rock●. Alcides' sunk in flame,  
Ascends a God. The labour●helping Damo  
A Weasel. Lotis, flying lust, becomes  
A Tree: the like sad Dryope entombs  
Old Iölaus waxeth young again.  
Callinhoes' Infants suddenly grow Men.  
Byblis a weeping Fourtaine. Iphis now  
A Boy, to Isis pays his maiden Vow.  
HEe, who his high descent from Neptune draws,  
Of his so sad a sigh demands the cause,  
And maimed brow. When thus the God proceeds;  
His dangling curls impald with quivering reeds.  
A heavy task you impose: his own disgrace  
Who would revive? yet was it not so base  
To be subdued, as noble to contend:  
And such a Victor doth my foil defend.  
Have you not heard of faire-cheekt Deianeira?  
The envied hope of many: the desire  
Of all that knew her. We, with others went  
To Oeneus Court, to purchase his consent.  
More strong by twinning heirs. This death-borne crew  
Growing in wounds; I tamed: and twice subdue.  
What hope hast thou, a forged Snake, to scape?  
That f●●hest with others arms; and beg'st thy shape.  
This said; my neck his grasping fingers clincht;  
And s●ruz'd my throat; as if with pincers wrincht;  
While from his gripes I strove my laws to pull.  
Twice evercome; now, like a furious Bull,  
Once more his terrible affaults oppose.  
His arms about my swelling chest he throws,  
And following, backward hales: my foreheads birth  
●ixt in the ground; and threw me on the earth.  
My brow (that not sufficing) disadornes:  
By breaking one of my engaged horns.  
The Naiads with fruits and flowers this fill:  
Good Plenty, in my Horn aboundeth still.  
Here Achen's ends. One lovely-faire,  
G●●t like Diana's Nymph, with flowing hair,  
Came in; and brought the wealthy Horn; replete  
With Autumn's store, and apples after meat.  
Day springs, and mountains shine with early beams.  
His Guests depart: nor stay till peaceful streams  
G'yde gently down, and keep the it bounded race.  
When Ache●ous, his agrestick face  
And maimed head within the current shrowds.  
This blea●uh much his former beauty clouds:  
All the complete. The rupture of his brows  
He shades with flaggie wreathes, and ●allow boughs.  
So Dianna, Ne●sus, was thy wrack:  
A deadly arrow preying through thy back.  
I 〈◊〉, with his new wife; so Thiefs his course  
D●cc●●g, ●anc ● L●enus: apid source.  
The big-swollen Streams increased with winter's rain,  
And full of turning gulfs, his Pass restrain.  
For her he fears: though he selfe-feare abhorred.  
When strong-limd Nessus came, who knew the Ford;  
And said; I safely will transport thy Bride:  
Meanwhile swim thou unto the otherside.  
To him Alcides his pale wife betakes:  
Who, fearing both the flood, and Nessus, quakes.  
Charged with his quiver, and his Lion's skin  
(His club and bow before thrown over) in  
The Heros leaps, and said; How ever vast,  
These waves, since under taken, shall be passed.  
And confident, nor seeks the smoothest ways:  
Nor die declining his transcent delays.  
Now over; stooping for his bow, he heard  
His wife's shrill shrecks; and Nessus saw, prepared  
To violate his trust. Thou ravisher,  
What hope, said he, can thy vain speed confer?  
Holla, thou half a beast; with hold thy flight:  
I pray thee hear; nor intercept my light.  
It no respect of me can fix thy trust:  
Yet, let thy Father's wheel resh aine thy lust.  
Nor shalt thou scape revenge; how ever fleet,  
Wounds shall o'ertake thy speed, though not my feet.  
The last, his deeds confirm; for as he fled,  
An arrow struck his back: the barbed head  
Past through his breast. Tugged out, both vents extrude  
Hot spinning gore, with Hydra's blood imbrued.  
This Nessis took: and softly said: yet I,  
Alcides, will not unrevenged die.  
And gave his Rape a vest, dipped in that gore:  
This will (said he) the heat of love restore.  
Long after (all the ample world possessed  
With his great acts, and junos' hate increased)  
From razed O echalia hastening his remove,  
To sacrifice unto Cenaean jove:  
Fame's babble Deianira's ears surprise  
(Who falsehood adds to truth, and grows by lies)  
How Iô●e, Amphitryoniades  
With love in thrauled. Stung with this strong disease.  
The troubled lover credits what she fears.  
At first she nourisheth her grief with tears:  
Which weeping eyes diffuse. Then said; But why  
Weep we? the Strumpet in these tears will joy.  
Since come she will, some change attempt I must;  
Before my bed be stained with her lust.  
Shall I complain? be mute? shift houses? stay?  
Return to Calydon, and give her way?  
Or call to mind that I am sister to  
Great Meleager, and some mischief do?  
What injured woman; what the sploenefull woe  
Of ●elousie; or harlot's death, can show?  
Her thoughts, long toiled with change, now fixed stood  
To send the garment dipped in Nessus' blood;  
To quicken fainting love. The Present she  
To Lycus gave (as ignorant as he)  
And her own sorrow. Who, with kind commends,  
The robe to her suspectless husband sends.  
Which now the sacrificing Heros wore:  
Wrapped inn the poison of Echidna's gore.  
Who praying, newborn flames with incense fed:  
And bowls of wine on marble altars shed.  
The spreading mischief works: with heat lissolued,  
The manly limbs of Hercules involved.  
Who, whilst he could, with usual fortitude  
His groans suppressed. All patience now subdued  
With such extremes; the altar down he flings:  
And shady Octe with his clamour rings.  
Forthwith to tear the torture off, he strives.  
The riven robe, his skin that lines it, rives;  
Or to his limbs unseparable cleaves;  
Or his huge bones and sinews naked leaves.  
As fire-red steel in water drenched; so toils  
His hissing blood, and with hot poison boyles.  
No mean! the greedy flames his bowels fret;  
And all his body flows with purple sweat:  
His scorched sinews crack, his marrow fries.  
Then, to the stars his hands advancing, aries.  
Feast, juno, on our harms. O from on high  
Behold this plague! thy cruel stomach cloy.  
If foes may pity purchase (such are we)  
This life, with torments crazed; long sought by thee;  
And borne to toil, deprive. For death would prove  
To me a blessing: and a Stepdames love  
May such a blessing give. Have I this gained  
For slain Busiris who Ioues temple stained  
With stranger's blood? That from Anteus took  
His mother's aid? Whom Geryans triple look,  
Nor thine, o Cerberus, could once dismay?  
These hands, these made the Cretan Bull obey.  
Your labours, Elis; smooth Stymp●ation floods,  
Confess with praises; and Parthenian woods.  
You got the golden belt of Thermodon:  
And apples from the sleepless Dragon won.  
Nor Cloud-borne Centaurs, nor th' Arcadian Boar,  
Could me resist: nor Hydra wa● her store  
Of frightful heads; which by their loss increased.  
ay, when I saw the Thracian Horses feast  
With humane flesh, their mangers overthrew:  
And with his steeds, their wicked Master slew.  
These hands the Nen●ean Lion choked: these quelled  
Huge Cacus: and these shoulders heaven upheld.  
Ioues cruel wife grew weary to impose;  
I never to perform. But ● these woes,  
This new found plague, no virtue can repel;  
No● arms, nor weapons! Hungry flames of hell  
Shoot through my veins, and on my liver prey.  
And yet Eurys●h●us thrives: and some will say  
That there be Gods! Here his complaints he ends,  
And high-raisd steps o'er lofty Oeta bends,  
Hurried with anguish like a Bull that bears  
A wounding iavelin; whom the wonder fears.  
Oft should you see him quake, oft groan, oft striving  
To te●re his garments; solid trees up-riving,  
Enraged with the mountains, and to rear  
His sco●●hed arms unto his father's sphere.  
H●d in a hollow rock, he Lycus spies:  
When torture had possessed his faculties  
With all her furies Lycus didst thou give  
This horrid gift, said he? Thinkst thou to live;  
And I die ●y thy treason? While he quakes,  
Looks ghastly pale, unheard excuses makes;  
While yet he spoke, while to his knees he clung  
Caught by the heels, about his head thrice swung,  
Him into deep Euboean surges threw  
(As engines stones) who hardened as he flew.  
As fa●ling 〈◊〉 congealed with freezing winds  
Convert to snow, as snow together binds,  
And rolling round in solid hail descends:  
So while the air his forced body rends,  
Bloodless with terror, all his moisture gone;  
Those times his change produced ●●●gid stone.  
And still within Eub●as gulphy 〈◊〉:  
A short rock lies, which man's proportion ●eepes.  
Whereon the mariners forbears to 〈◊〉,  
As sensitive. And this they 〈…〉.  
But thou, Ioues Godlike 〈…〉 with store  
Of trees advanced, which lofty 〈◊〉  
Thy bow and ample 〈…〉  
Those arrows that against must visit Troy)  
Bequeath'st too 〈…〉: who catching fire  
Puts to the Pyle. While greedy 〈◊〉 aspire;  
Thou on the top thy 〈…〉 didst spread:  
And lay thereon (thy 〈…〉 thy head)  
With such a look; as if 〈…〉  
Amidst full goblets, 〈…〉.  
Now all embracing 〈…〉 made:  
And their Contem●● 〈…〉 invade.  
The Gods much thought 〈◊〉 Defender took:  
When thus Saturnius, with a 〈◊〉 look:  
This grief, you Gods, is 〈…〉 with all  
Our soul we joy, that 〈…〉 call  
Us King and Father 〈…〉,  
And of our progeny 〈…〉.  
For though his 〈…〉,  
You us oblige. 〈…〉  
Your loyal 〈…〉:  
Who conquered all, 〈…〉  
Vul●an his 〈◊〉 shall but 〈◊〉  
For that's immortal which from us be drew;  
Or if I lie, may my green branches fade:  
And, field with axes, on the fire be laid,  
This Infant from his dying mother bear  
To son●e kind Nurse: and often let him here  
Be fed with milk; oft in my shadow play.  
Let him salute my tree; and sadly say.  
(When he can speak) This Lotis doth contain  
My dearest mother: Yet let him refrain  
All lakes; nor ever dare to touch a flower:  
But think that every tree enshrines a Powre.  
Dear Husband, Sister, Father, all farewell.  
Since you I know in piety excel,  
Suffer no axe to wound my tender boughs;  
Nor on my leaves let hungry cat-tail browse.  
And since I cannot unto you decline,  
Ascend to me; and join your lips to mine.  
My little son, while I can kiss, advance.  
But fate cuts off my failing utterance.  
For now the softer rind my neck ascends:  
And round about my levy top extends.  
Remove your hands: without the ●elpe of those,  
The wrapping bark my dying eyes will close.  
So left to speak, and be. Yet humane heat  
In her changed body long retained a seat.  
While 〈◊〉 this story told; her eyes,  
Glazed with her tears, the kind Alemena dries;  
And weeps herself. Behold, a better change  
With joy defers their sorrow: nor less strange.  
For Io●aus, twice a youth, came in:  
The doubtful down now budding on his chin.  
Fair Hebe, at her husband's suit, on thee  
This gift bestowed. About to swear that she  
Would never give the like; wise Themis said,  
Forbear; War raves in Th●bes by Discord swayed:  
And Capaneus but by jove alone  
Can be subdued. The brothers then shall groan  
With mutual wounds. The sacred Prophet, lost  
In swallowing earth, alive shall see his Ghost.  
His Sons red hands his Mother's life extract  
T' appease his Sire: a just and wicked fact.  
Rapt from his home and senses, with th'affright  
Of staring Furies, and his mother's Spirit,  
Until his wife the fatal gold demands:  
The kinsman murdered by Phegides hands.  
Then Acheloian Callirrh●a  
Shall jove improtune, that her infants may  
Be turned to men: and due revenge require  
(As he, for his) of those who slew their sire;  
Her prayers shall win consent from jove: who then  
Will bid thee make C●llirr●o●'s children men.  
This, Themis with prophetic rapture sung.  
Among the Gods a grudging murmur sprung,  
Why she this gift should not to others give▪  
Aurora for her 〈…〉 doth grieve▪  
Ceres complains of I●s●us 〈…〉  
Vulcan would 〈…〉;  
And cares of time to c●●e in 〈…〉  
That her An●hise● might wa● young a●●ine.  
All sue for some: seditious 〈◊〉 strove  
In height of tumult; thus oppressed by jove.  
What mutter you? Or where is your respect?  
Think you, you can the power of fate subject?  
Old jolaus was by fate renewed:  
By fate Callirrhoe's babes shall be endued  
What will become of me (she weeping said)  
Whom new, unknown, prodigious ●oues invade!  
If pitiful, the Gods should have destroi●d:  
Or else have given what might have been enjoyed.  
No Cow a Cow, no Mare a Mare pursues:  
But Hearts their gentle Hinds, and Rams their Ewes.  
So Birds together pair. Of all that move,  
No Female suffers for a Female ●oue.  
O would I had no being! Yet, that all  
Abhorred by Nature should in Crect befall;  
Sol's lust-incensed daughter loved a Bull:  
They male and female. Mine, o far more full  
Of uncouth fury! for she pleased her blood;  
And stood his error in a Cow of wood:  
She, to deceive, had an adulterer.  
Should all the world their daring wits confer:  
Should Dedalus his waxen wings renew,  
And hither fly; what could his cunning do▪  
Can art convert a virgin to a boy?  
Or fit I●nt he for a maiden's joy?  
No, fix thy mind; compose thy vast desires:  
O quench these ill-advised and foolish fires!  
Or know thyself, or Selfe-deceit accuse:  
What may be, seek; and love as virgins use.  
Hope wings Desire; hope Cupids ●light sustains:  
In thee thy Sex this deads'. No watch restrains  
Out dear embrace, nor husband's jealousies,  
Nor rigorous Sires; nor she herself denies:  
Yet not to be enjoyed. Nor canst thou be  
Happy in her; though men and Gods agree!  
Now also all to my desires accord:  
What they can give, the easy Gods afford;  
What me, my Father, he●s, herself would please,  
Displeaseth Nature; stranger than all these.  
She, she forbids. That day begins to shine;  
Long wished! wherein I●●the must be mine:  
And yet not mine. Of mortals most accursed!  
I starve at feasts, and in the river thirst.  
juno, o Hymen, wher● 〈◊〉 are you come?  
We both are Brides: but where is the Bridegroom?  
Here ended. Nor less burne● the other Maid;  
Who, Hymen, for thy swift appearance prayed.  
Yet Telethusa fears what thou affects;  
Protracting time: oft want of health objects;  
Ill-boding dreams, and auguries oft ●aines:  
But now no colour for excuse remains.  
Their nuptial rites, put of● with such delay;  
Were to be solemni●'d the following day.  
When she unbinds, 〈…〉 hair;  
And holding by the 〈…〉.  
Isis; who Para●●●●● 〈◊〉  
Smooth M●●cotis, and seven 〈…〉  
Chear'st with thy presence: thy poor suppliants hear:  
O help in these extremes, and cure our fear!  
Thee Goddess, thee of old; these ensigns, I  
Have seen, and know: thy lamps, attendancy,  
And sounding 〈◊〉: and have thee obeyed.  
To me, impunity▪ ●●fe, to this maid,  
Thy saving counsel gave: to both 〈◊〉  
Thy timely pity. Tears her word● pursue.  
The Goddess shakes her Altar; when the gate  
shook on the hinges: horns that imitate  
The waxing Moons, through all the Temple flung  
A sacred splendour: noiseful Timbrels rung.  
The Mother, glad of this successful sign,  
Though not secure, returns from Isis' shrine.  
Whom Iphis f●llowes with a larger pace  
Then usual; nor had so white a face.  
Her strength augments; her look more bold appears;  
Her shortening curls scarce hang beneath her ears;  
More courage hath, then, when a wench, she had:  
For thou, of late a Wench, art now a Lad.  
Gifts to the temple bear, and I● sing!  
Sing joy! Their gifts unto the Temple bring;  
And add a title in one verse displayed:  
What Iphis vowed a Wench, a Boy he paid.  
The Morning Night dismasks with welcome flame:  
When juno, Vinus, and free Hymen came  
To grace their marriage; who, with gifts divine,  
Iphis the Boy, to his 〈◊〉 join.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The tenth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Fear turns a 〈◊〉 to 〈◊〉. Lethra's blame  
Olenus bears: 〈…〉; their shapes the same.  
Vex● Cybele to Pi●● her Atys turns.  
Sweet Cypariss●s in a Cypress 〈◊〉.  
Enamoured jove at 〈◊〉 wings display●●;  
And 〈…〉  
Slain Hyac in●hus sighs in his new 〈◊〉.  
The cruel Sacrific●rs by the power  
Of Venus turned to Bulls. The Proctiture  
To Stones. Pyg●alion wives the living fruit  
Of his 〈◊〉 Art. 〈◊〉 doth shine  
In 〈…〉 to the Virgin Sign.  
Myrrah, 〈…〉 Tree. Hippomenes  
And Atalanta, Lyons. Cyprides  
(Informed by Mentha's change) her 〈◊〉  
Turns to a fair, has quickly 〈◊〉 flower.  
HEnce to the Ci●●es through boundless skies,  
In saffron mantle, Hymo●●us 〈◊〉:  
By Orp●●●● called. But neither usual words,  
Nor cheerful looks, 〈◊〉 happy signs affords.  
The torch his hand sustained, still sputtering raised  
A tearful smoke: nor yet, though shaken, bla●'d.  
Th'event worse than the Omen. As his Bride  
Troops with the Nai●des by Hebrus side;  
A Serpent bit her by the heel: which forced  
Life from her hold, and nuptial ties divorced.  
Whom when the Thracian Poet had above  
Enough bewailed; that his complaints might move  
The under Shades, at Taenarus descends  
To Stygian floods; and his bold steps extends  
By airy Shapes, and fleeting Souls, that boast  
Of sepulture, through that unpleasant coast  
To Pluto's Court. When, having tuned his strings,  
Thus to his harp the Godlike Poet sings.  
You Powers that sway the world beneath the Earth;  
The last abode of all our humane birth:  
If we the truth without offence may tell;  
I come not hither to discover Hell,  
Nor bind that scolding Cur, who barking shakes  
About his triple brows Medusa's snakes.  
My wife this journey urged: who, by the tooth  
Of trod-on Viper, perished in her youth.  
I would, and strove t'have borne her loss: but Love  
Won in that strife. A God well known above:  
Nor here, perhaps, unknown. If truly Fame  
Report old rapes, you also felt his flame.  
By these obscure abodes, so full of dread;  
By this huge Ch●●s, and deep Silence, sp●●●d  
Through your vast Empire; by these prayers of mine;  
Eury●ices too-hasty fate vatwine.  
We all are yours: and after a short stay;  
Early, or late; we all must run one way.  
Hither we throng; for our last home assigned:  
Th'eternal habitation of mankind.  
She, when her time by nature shall expire,  
Again is yours: I but the use desire.  
If Fate deny me this, my second choice  
Is here t'abide: in both our deaths rejoice.  
While thus he sung, and struck the quavering strings,  
The bloodless Shadows wept: not flattering Springs  
Tempt Tantalus; Ixion's Wheel stood still;  
Their Urn the Belides no longer fill:  
The Vultures feed not; Tityus lest to groan:  
And Sisyphus sat listening on his Stone.  
The Furies, vanquished by his verse, were seen  
To weep, that never wept before. Hell's Queen,  
The king of darkness yield t'his powerful plea.  
Among the late-come Souls, E●rydice  
They call: she came; yet halting of her wound.  
Given Orpheus, with this law: Till thou the bound.  
Of pale Avernus' pass, if back thou cast  
Thy careful eyes, thou losest what thou hast.  
A steep ascent, dark, thick with fogs, they climb  
Through everlasting Silence. By this time  
Approach the confines of illustrious Light.  
Doubting her loss, and longing for a sight,  
His eyes th'impatient lover backward threw:  
When she, back sliding, presently withdrew.  
He catches at her, in his wits distraught;  
And yielding air for her (unhappy!) caught.  
Nor did she, dying twice, her spouse reprove:  
For what could she complain of, but his love?  
Who takes her last farewell: her parting breath  
Scarce reached his ears; and so 〈◊〉 for d●●th.  
Her double loss sad Orpheus' stupiside;  
With equal terror unto his, who spied  
About the pleasant fields in pleasure ride;  
And with a purple reign the willing guide.  
'T was Summer, and high Noon: Days burning eye  
Made smoking Cancers crooked claws to fry.  
Upon the ground the panting Hart was laid:  
Cool air receiving from the sylvan shade.  
Whom silly Cyparissus' wounds by chance:  
And seeing life pursue his tugged out lance,  
Resolves to die. What did not Phoebus say,  
That might a grief, so slightly caused, allay?  
He answers him in sight: this last good-turne  
Implores; That he might never cease to mourn.  
His blood now shed in tears, a greenish hue  
His body dims: the locks that dangling grew  
Upon his ivory forehead bristling use;  
And pointing upward, seem to threat the skies.  
When Phoebus; sighing: I for thee will mourn:  
Mourn thou for others: Hearses still adorn.  
Such trees attracting; and environed round  
With birds and beasts, upon the rising ground  
The Poet sits: who, having tuned his strings,  
Indissonancie musical, thus sings.  
From jove, o Mother Muse, derive my verse;  
All bow to jove: jeves power we o●t rehearse.  
And late of Giants sung, in lofty strains,  
For●●d● y his thunder on Phiegraean plains.  
N●w in a lower key, to lovely boys  
Beloved of Gods, turn we our softer lays.  
And sing of women's furies, who pursue  
For breden lusts: pursued by Vengeance due.  
Heaven's King, young Ganymed inflames with love:  
There was what jove would rather be than jove.  
Yet deigns no other shape than hers, that bears  
His awful lightning in her golden sears.  
Who forth with stooping with deceitful wings,  
Trust up Iliads by Ida's springs.  
Who now, for jove (though jealous juno scoules)  
Delicious Nectar fills in flowing bowls.  
And thee Amyclides, in azure skies  
Had Phoebus fixed; if cruel Destinies  
Had not prevented: yet in some sort made  
Eretnall. For, as oft as Springs invade  
Sharp winters; and to Aries Pisces yields:  
So oft renewed, thy Flower adorn the fields.  
Thee loved my Father, best of humane births.  
Her Guardian quits his Delphos, in wide Earth's  
Round navel seated: while the God of Beams  
Haunts wall-lesse Sparta, and Eure●as streams.  
Now neither for his Harp, nor Quiver, cares:  
Himself debasing, bears the corded snares;  
Or leads the dogs; or clambers mountains; led  
By Lordly Love, and flames by custom fed.  
Now Titan bore his equal distant Light,  
Between forerunning and ensuing Night:  
When lightened of their garments, either shone  
With suppling Oil, in strife to throw the stone.  
This swinging through the air first Phoebus threw:  
The obvious clouds dispersing as it flew;  
On solid earth, though flying long, at length  
Descends; enforced by art-inabling strength.  
Th'imprudent Boy attempts with fatal haste  
To take it up; when Earth, by boundings, cast  
The Globe, o Hyacinthus, at thy head.  
The Boy locked pale; and so the God, who bled  
Their looks emboldened, modesty now gone,  
Convert at length to little-differing Stone.  
Pygmalion seeing these to spend their times  
So beastlike; frighted with the many crimes  
That rule in women; chose a single life:  
And long forbore the pleasure of a wife.  
Mean while, injoury with happy art  
A Statue carves; so shapefull in each part,  
As woman never equalled it: who stands  
Affected to the fabric of his hands.  
It seemed a Virgin, full of living flame;  
That would have moved, if not withheld by shame,  
So Art itself concealed. His art admires;  
From th'Image draws imaginary fires:  
And often feels it with his hands, to try  
If 'twere a body, or cold ivory.  
Not could resolve. Who kissing, thought it kissed:  
Oft courts, embraces, wrings it by the wrist;  
The flesh impressing (his conceit was such)  
And fears to hurt it with too rude a touch.  
Now flatters her; now sparkling stones presents,  
And orient pearl (love's witching instruments)  
Soft-singing birds, each several coloured flower,  
First Lilies, painted balls, and tears that power  
From weeping trees. Rich Robes her person deck;  
Her fingers, rings; reflecting chains her neck;  
Pendants her ears; a glittering zone her breft.  
In all, showed well; but showed, when naked, best.  
Now lays he her upon a gorgeous bed:  
With carpets of Sidonian purple spread.  
Now calls her wife. Her head a pillow pressed  
Of plumy down, as if with sense possessed.  
Now came the day of Venus' Festival:  
Through wealthy Cypr●s solemnised by all.  
White heifers, decked with golden horns, by strokes  
Of axe's fall: ascending incense smokes.  
He, with his gift, before the Altar stands:  
You Gods, if all we crave be in your hands,  
Give me the wife I wish: one like, he said,  
But durst not say, give me my ivory Maid.  
The golden Venus, present at her Feast,  
Conceives his wish; and friendly fignes expressed:  
The fire thrice blazing, sparkling thrice on high.  
He hastes to his admired Imag'ne:  
Couches besides her, raised her with his arm;  
Then kissed her tempting lips, and found them warm.  
That lesson oft repeats; her bosom oft  
With amorous touches feels, and fe●t it soft,  
The ivory dimpled with his singers, lacks  
Accustomed hardness: as Hymettian wax  
Relents with heat, which chase thombs reduce  
To pliant forms, by handling framed for use.  
Amazed with doubtful joy, and hope that reels;  
Again the Lover, what he wishes, feels.  
The veins beneath his thumbs impression beat:  
A perfect Virgin full of juice and heat.  
The Cyprian Prince with ioy-enhightned words,  
To pleasure-giving Venus' thanks affords.  
His lips to hers he joins, which seem to melt:  
The blushing Virgin now his kisses felt;  
And fearfully erecting her fair eyes,  
Together with the light, her Lover spies.  
Venus was present at the match she made.  
And when nine Crescents had at full displayed  
Would I? it will not: he too well inclined.  
O that like fury would inflame his mind!  
Thus she. But Cinyras, pressed with the store  
Of worthy suitors who his voice implore;  
In his own choice irresolute, demands  
(Their names rehearsing) how her fancy stands.  
She, thoughtful silent; gazing on his face,  
Flushed with embosomed flames, and wept apace.  
He, taking this for maiden fear; Desist  
From weeping, said: then dried her cheeks, and kissed;  
Too much she ioyos. Again demanded, who  
She best could like: replied, One, like to you.  
Be still, said he, so pious. At that name  
She hung the head, as conscious of her blame.  
'T was now the mid of night: when Sleep bestows  
On men; and on their cares, a sweetrepose.  
But Myrrba watches, rapt with tamelesse fires;  
Retracting her implacable desires.  
Despairs, hopes; will not, will; now shames, again  
Desires; nor knows what course to take. As when  
A mighty Oak (one blow behind) his fall  
On each side threatens; and is feared on all:  
Even so her mind, impaired with various wounds,  
Waves to and fro; and changes still propounds.  
No mean, no cure, was left for love but death:  
Death pleased. Resolved to choke her hated breath;  
Vpstarting, to a beam her girdle ties.  
Dear Cinyras fare well (she softly cries)  
And of my ruin understand the cause.  
That said, the noose about her neck she draws.  
Her wakeful Nurses faithful cares, they say,  
A whispering heard: who in the Lobby lay.  
Strait rose; unlocked the doors; the instrument  
Of death beholding, sereecht: together rend  
Her hair and bosom: and, with trembling haste,  
The girdle from her pallid neck displaced.  
Now had she time to weep; t'embrace her Care:  
And ask the cause of such accursed despair.  
She silent, fixes on the earth her eyes:  
And grieves at deaths prevented enterprise.  
●aring her hoary hairs and empty breast,  
The Nurse, by her first food, and cradle, pressed  
Her grief's disclosure. Myrr●a turns aside,  
And sighs. The Nurse would not be so denied:  
Nor only promised secrecy; but said:  
Tell me, my child, and entertain my aid.  
My old age is not fruitless: charms have we,  
And powerful medicines, if it fury be:  
If witchcraft; magic shall thy torments ease:  
If wrath of Gods, the Gods we will appease  
With sacrifice. What can be else surmised?  
Thy fortunes by incursions vnsurprized;  
Thy mother, and thy father, well? That Name  
Drew from her soul a sigh, that soorcht like flame.  
Nor in the Nurse did this suspicion move  
Of such a crime: and yet she saw 'twas Love..  
Importunate to know what least she fears,  
Laid in her lap surrounded with her tears,  
Sh'infolds her in her feeble arms, and said;  
I know thou lou'●s; t: wherein (nor be afraid)  
Thou mayst on my sedulity rely:  
Nor shall thy father ever this descry.  
At that, in fury from her lap she sprung;  
Then on the bed her prostrate body flung;  
As swift as Scythian shafts; her for me he more  
Admires; by motion lovelier than before.  
The wind reverberates her ankles wings,  
And whisks her ham-bound buskins purple strings,  
Tossing her hair, on ivory shoulders spread.  
Her pure white body so assumes the red;  
As when carnation curtains are displayed  
On pure white walls, and dye them with their shade,  
While this the stranger viewed the race was run:  
And A●alanti's brows the garland won.  
The vanquished sigh, and pay their forfeiture.  
Nor could so sad success his fear procure:  
Who rose; and fixing on the Maid his eyes;  
Why seek you praise by easy victories?  
Contend with us: if we obtain the Bays,  
Our victory will not eclipse your praise.  
Megareus, me begor, Orchastius blood;  
He Neptunes, Ruler of the sacred Flood:  
Nor we degenerate. My foil, your name  
Will honour; and immortalize your fame.  
This while, a well-pleased eye She on him threw:  
Nor knows her wish: to lose, or to subdue.  
What God, a Foe to beauty, would destroy  
This Youth, said she, who seeks my bed t'enjoy  
With his life's forfeiture? If I may be  
The judge, there is not so much worth in me.  
Nor is't his beauty moves, though it might move;  
But that a Boy. We pity, and not love.  
Besides; his courage, and contempt of death!  
But once removed from Neptune's sacred birth!  
And then, his Love; content to part with life,  
If harder, fate deny me for his wife!  
Begun, o Stranger; shun my bloody bed,  
While yet thou mayst: this Match will cost thy head.  
No Virgin is there who would not be thine:  
And such would seek, whose lustres darken mine.  
Yet why regard I him, so may slain?  
Look to thyself, or perish: since in vain  
Admonished by such numbers, whom this strife  
Hath sent to death. thou'rt weary of thy life.  
And must be die, because he'd lieu with me?  
Must death, adventurous Love, thy wages be?  
This murder will our victory defame;  
And purchase hate: yet am not I in blame.  
O would thou wouldst desist, and danger shun!  
Or since so mad, would thou couldst faster run!  
How Boy and Virgin revel in his face!  
Ah poor Hipp●●nenes! O would this place,  
Th'hadst never seen I thou well deservest to line.  
Were I more happy, and hard fate would give  
Me leave to marry; thou art He alone,  
To whom my bed and bennies should be known.  
Thus she: Who raw, and pierced with Love's first touch,  
Errs in her thoughts; and loves; nor knew so much.  
Now King and People call upon the Race:  
When Neptune's Issue thus implored my grace.  
O Venus, favour my attempts, he said:  
And those affections, which you gave me, aid!  
This friendly winds conveyed unto my care:  
I pity, and no longer help for bear.  
A field there is, so fertile none, through all  
Rich Cyprus; which they Damoscenus call.  
Antiquity this to my honour vowed:  
And therewith all my Temples had endowed.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The Eleventh Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
A Serpent changed to Stone. Rough barks enfold  
The cruel Bacchanals. To sharuing Gold  
All turns at Midas touch: He'● body laves  
In clear Pactolus, whose enriched 〈◊〉  
Wash off his gold and gilded: an Asso● 〈◊〉  
H● f●lly shame: the whispered Secre● bears  
Like sounding Reeds. Apollo, and the Guide  
Of sacred S●as, in humane shapes reside.  
Forced Thetis varies forms. Daedalion  
〈◊〉 Faleon turned. A Wolf 〈◊〉 deo 〈◊〉.  
Morpheus to mortals, Phobetor to Brutes,  
And Phantasus to shapes inanimate suits.  
Transformed Halcyone and Ceyx fie  
So Aesacus, who vainly strives to dye.  
THus while the Thracian Poet with his songs  
Beasts, trees, and stones, attracts in following throngs:  
Behold, Ciconian dames (their furious breasts  
Clad with the spotted skins of savage beast's)  
The Sacred Singer from a hill espied,  
As he his ditty to his Harp applied.  
Of these, One screamed, and tossed her flairing hair  
See, see the Woman-hater! then her spear  
Threw at his vocal mouth; which ivie-bound,  
Kissed his affected lips without a wound.  
An Other hurls a stone; this, as it flew,  
His voice and Harps according tunes subdue:  
Which selfe-accused for such a rude assay,  
Before his feet, as in submission, lay:  
Rash violence, the mean exiled, increased:  
And mad Erin●ys reigned in every breast.  
His songs had all their weapons charmed, if noise  
Of Ber●cynthian Shawms, clapped hands, loud cries,  
Drum, howling Bacchanals, with frantic sound  
Had not his all-appeasing music drowned.  
The stones than blush with silenst Orpheus' blood.  
But first on ravished beasts that listening stood,  
On fowl, and Serpents, they their spite infer;  
And raze the glory of his Theatre.  
Then all with cruel hands about him fly:  
And flock, like birds, when they by day espy  
The bird of Night. And as a Stag at bay,  
In early Spectacle given to the pray  
Of eager hounds; assail, together flung  
Their leavy spears, not framed for such a wrong.  
Some clods, some arms of trees, some stones advance:  
And lest wild Rage should weapons want, by chance  
Not far off Oxen drew the furrowing ploughs;  
And Swains, providing food with sweeting brows,  
Their brawny arms employed: who feare-inclinde,  
●efore them fled, and left their tools behind.  
Their mattocks, rakes, and spades, dispersed lay  
About the empty fields: these snatched away,  
(The oxens ho●nes torn from their skulls) their hate  
〈◊〉 them back unto the Poet's fate.  
Thee, holding up thy hands, who n'et before  
Besought'st in vain, now to prevail no more,  
That Rout of sacrilegious Furies slew!  
Even through that mouth (o jupiter!) which drew  
From stones attention, which affection bred  
In savage beasts, his forced spirits fled!  
Sad birds, wild Herds, hard flints, and woods which oft  
Removed to hear thee, wept: trees weeping doffed  
Their pallid leaves; streams with their tears increased:  
The Naiads and Dryades invest  
Their loins in sullen fable, and display  
Their scattered hair. Thy limbs dispersed lay.  
Hebrus had head and Harp: as borne along  
The Harp sounds something, sadly; the dead tongue  
Sighs out sad deities: the banks sympathy;  
That bound the river in their sad reply.  
Now borne to Sea, from native streams they drive;  
And at Methymuian Lesbos shore arrive.  
A Dragon on the foreign sand prepares  
To seize his head, and lick his dropping hairs.  
When gaping to devour the Hymnists face,  
Phoebus' descen●●; and in that very space  
Into a Stone converts him by his power,  
With jaws extended ready to devour.  
His Ghost retires to under-shades: once more  
He sees, and knows, what he had seen before.  
Then through the Elysian fields among the blessed  
Seeks his Eurydice. Now repossessed  
With strict embraces, guided by one mind.  
They walk together: oft the comes behind,  
Oft goes before: now orphans safely may  
His following Eurydice survey.  
Yet would not ●accebus so remit their hate:  
Who vexed for his Prophet's cruel fate,  
Fixed all th' Edonian Dames that then were by  
With spreading roots; and who more eagerly  
Persudo his death, their toes he deeper drew  
Within the solid earth, which downward grew.  
And even as fowl whose feet entangled are  
Within the subtle Fowlers secret snare  
Become by fearful fluttering faster bound:  
So, each of these, now cleaving to the ground,  
With terror struggle to escape in vain;  
For faster-binding roots their flight restrain.  
One, looking for her nails, her toes, her feet:  
Behold, her twinning legs in timber meet:  
In passion, thinking to have struck her thighs,  
She strikes hard oak; hard oak her breast supplies;  
Her shoulders such: her arms appear to grow  
In natural branches; and indeed did so.  
Not thus content, their fields Lyaeus leaves:  
Whom Tmolus, with a better crew, receives,  
And swift Pactolus, who did then enfold  
No precious sands, nor grains of envied gold.  
Satyrs and Bacchanals make their repair,  
His usualleraine: Silenus than not there.  
Him ●rst the Phrygian rurals reeling found  
With age and wine; and now, with ivy crowned,  
To Midas bring: whom orphans Orgies taught,  
And sage Eu●nulpus from C●cr●pis brought.  
When known to be his partner in those Rites;  
Full twice five days, with their succeeding nights,  
He entertained him with a sumptuous feast.  
Eleven times Luciser the stars suppressed:  
When, with wild mirth, he treads the Lydian fields;  
And to the God his Foster-father yields.  
He in his safe receipt doth much rejoice:  
Whose bounty Midas frustrates by his choice.  
For, willed to wish; Let all, said he, I touch  
Convert to god. His ignorance was such  
Forthwith his hurtful wish Lyaus gives:  
And at his folly not a little grieues.  
But in his curl the Berecynthian joys:  
And homeward bound, the truth by touching tries.  
Scarce trusts himself. Who from a tree bereaves  
A slender branch; this shone with golden leaves.  
Takes up a stone,; that stone pale gold became:  
Takes up a clod, the clod presents the same:  
Crops stalks of corn; they yield a snea●e of gold:  
An apple pulls; there in you might behold  
Th' Hesperian purchase: touched by him alone,  
The marble pillars with rich mettle shone.  
And when he washed his hands; that, showered in rain,  
Might simple Dan●● have deceived again.  
His breast scarce holds his hopes; whose fancy wrought  
On golden wonden: when his servants brought  
Meat to the table. Sooner had not he  
Touched Ceres' bounty, but that proved to be  
A shining mass: assumed viands strait  
Between his greedy teeth convert to plate.  
About to drink mixed wine; you might behold  
His thirsty jaws o'erflow with liquid gold.  
Struck with so strange a plague; both rich and poor;  
He hates, and shuns the wealth he wished before.  
No plenty hunger feeds; he burns with thirst:  
In loathed gold deservedly accursed.  
Then, lifting up his shining arms, thus prayed:  
Father Lenaeus, o afford thy aid!  
I have offended; pity thou: and me  
From this so beautiful a mischief free.  
The gentle Powre accepts his penitence:  
And for his faith, doth with his gift dispense.  
Lest ill-wisht gold about him still abide.  
Go, said he, to those Crystal streams that glide  
By potent Sardis: keep the banks that lead  
A long th'encountering Current to his head.  
There, where the gushing fountain foams, dive in:  
And, with thy body, wash away thy sin.  
The King obeys: who in the fountain leaves  
That golden virtue, which the Spring receives.  
And still those ancient seeds these waters hold:  
Who gilled their shores with glittering grains of gold  
He, hating wealth, in woods and fields bestows  
His time with Pan: whom mountain Caves enclose.  
Yet his gross wit remains: his shallow brain  
An sottish senses punish him again.  
High Tmolus with a steep ascent unfolds  
His rigid brows, and under-seas beholds:  
Whose stretch-out bases here to Sardis join;  
There to Hypaepis, girt in small confine.  
Where boasting Pan, while he his verse doth praise  
To tender Nymph, and pipes t'his rural lays;  
Before Apollo's durst his songs prefer.  
They meet (ill-matcht) great Tmolus arbiter.  
Th' old judge on his own Mountain sits; and clears  
His ears from trees: alone a garland wears  
Of Oak, with acorns dangling on his brow.  
Who thus bespoke the God of Shepherds: Now  
Your judge attends. He blows his wax-bound reeds:  
And Midus fancy with rude numbers feeds.  
Then sacred Tmolus to divine Apollo  
Converts his looks: his woods his motion follow.  
He, his long yellow hair with laurel bound,  
Clad in a Tyrian robe that swept the ground,  
A Viol holds, with sparkling gems in chased  
And Indian teeth; the bow his right hand graced.  
A perfect Artist showed. The strings then struck  
With cunning hand: With his sweet music took,  
Tmolus bids Pan his vanquished reeds resign.  
All in the holy Mountain's sentence join,  
But Midas only; whose exclaims traduce  
The Censure. Phoebus' for this gross abuse  
Transforms his ears, his folly to declare:  
Stretched out in length, and covered with grey hair:  
Instable, and now apt to move. The rest  
The former figure of a man possessed.  
Punished in that offending part: who bears.  
Upon his skull a slow-paced Ass' ears  
He strives to cover such a foul defame:  
And with a red Tiara hides his shame.  
But this his servant saw that cut his hair:  
Who big with secrets, neither durst declare  
His Sovereigns seen deformity, not yet  
Could hold his peace. Who digs a shallow pit,  
And therein softly whispers his disgrace:  
Then turning in the earth, forsook the place.  
A tuft of whispering Reeds from thence there grows;  
Which coming to maturity, disclose  
The husbandman: and by soft Southwinds blown  
Restore his words, and his Lords ears make known.  
Revenged Apollo, leaving Tmolus, flies  
Through liquid air; and on the land which lies  
On that side Helles straightened surges stands:  
Where far-obeyed La●medon commands.  
Below Rhoeaeu●, high above the flood,  
And on the right hand of Sigaum, flood  
An Altar vowed to Panomphaean jove:  
From whence He saw Laeomedon improve  
New Troy's scarce founded walls; with what ado,  
And with how great a charge they slowly grew.  
Who, with the Father of the tumid Maine,  
Endues a mortal shape: and entertain  
Themselves for unregarded gold to build  
The Pluygian Tyrants walls. That work fulfilled;  
The King their promised reward denies:  
And perjury by swearing multiplies.  
Revengeful Neptune his wild waves vnbound;  
Which all the shores of greedy Troy surround,  
And made the Land a Lake: the country Swaine  
His labour lost beneath that liquid Plain.  
Besides the daughter of the King demands:  
Who chained to a Rock exposed stands  
To seed a Monster of the Sea; for free,  
By strenuous Hercules. Yet could not He  
The horses of Liom●don enjoy;  
His valour's hire: who sacks twice perjured Troy;  
And gives his fellow Soldier Telamen  
Hesione; for Poleus now had won  
A Deity; nor in his Grandfather  
took greater pride, than in his Sire by her.  
For jupiter had Nephews more than one:  
But he a Goddess had espoused alone.  
For aged Proteus thus foretold the truth  
To wave-wet Theth: Thou shalt bear a Youth,  
Who shall in glorious arms transcend his birth  
And Father's fame. Lest any thing on earth  
Should be more great than jove, jove shuns the bed  
Of Sea-throned Thetis, though her beauty led  
His strong desires: who bids Aeacides  
Succeed his love, and wed the Queen of Seas.  
A Bay within Aemonia lies, that bends  
Much like an arch, and fat-stretcht arms extends▪  
Which were, if deep, a harbour locked by land;  
Where shallow seas o'er spread the yellow sand.  
The solid shore (where-on no seaweed grows)  
Nor clogs the way, nor print of footing shows.  
Ha●d by, a myrtle grove affords a shade:  
In this, a cave; though doubtful, rather made  
By art than nature: hither Thetis swims  
On Delphins' backs, here ccucht her naked limbs.  
In this the sleeping Goddess Peleus caught:  
Who, when she could not by his words be wrougt,  
Attempts to force, and clasped her in his arms.  
And had she not assumed her usual charms  
In varying shapes, he had his will obtained.  
Now, turning to a fowl, her flight restrained:  
Now seems a massy tree adorned with leaves;  
Close to the bowl th'enamoured Peleus cleaves.  
A spotted Tigress she presents at last:  
When he, with terror struck, his arms unclaspt.  
Who pouring wine on seas, those Gods implores;  
And with perfumes and sacrifice adore●:  
Till the Carpathian Prophet raised his head,  
And said; Aeacides, inicy her bed.  
Do thou but bind her in her next surprise,  
When in her gelid cave she sleeping lies:  
And though she take a thousand shapes, let none  
Dismay; but hold, till she resume her own.  
This Proteus said, and dived to the Profound:  
His latter word in his own waters drowned.  
Now hasty Titan to Hesperian seas  
Descends; when beauteous Thetis, bend to ease  
Forsook the flood, and to her cave repaired.  
No sooner she by Peleus was ensnared,  
But forthwith varies forms; until she found  
Her Virgin limbs within his fetters bound.  
Then, spreading forth her arms, She sighing said,  
Thou hast subdued by some immortal aid;  
And Thetis showed; nor his embrace repelled:  
Whose pregnant womb with great Achilles swelled.  
Happy was Peleus in his son and wife:  
And had not Phocus murder soiled his life,  
All-fortunate. With brother's blood defiled,  
Thee Tracbin harbours, from thy home exiled.  
Where courteous Ceyx, free from rigour, reigned;  
The son of Lucifer; whose looks retained  
His father's lustre: then disconsolate,  
Not like himself, for his lost brother's fate.  
Hither, with travel tited, and clogged with cares,  
The banished with a slender train repairs.  
Mrs' Hockes and Herds, with men for their defence,  
Left in a stadie vale not far from thence.  
Conducted to his Royal presence, He  
With olive branched, down bending to his knee,  
His name and birth declares: the murder masks  
With for●ed cause of flight: a dwelling asks  
In field, or city. Ceyx's thus replies:  
Our hospitable bounty open lies  
To men of vulgar rank: what owes it then  
To your high spirit, so renowned by men?  
Of monumental praise? Whose blood extracts  
His source from jove, improved by your Acts?  
To sue, is times abuse: your worth assures  
Your full desires; of all, the choice is yours:  
I wish it better. And then wept. The cause  
Ioues Nephew asks: when, after a short pause;  
Perhaps you think this Bird which lives by rape  
To all a terror, ever had that shape.  
He was a man; as constant in his mind  
As fierce in war, to great attempts inclined.  
Daedalion named; sprung from that Star which wakes▪  
The dewy Morn, the last that heaven forsakes.  
Affected peace I fostered, with the rites  
Of nuptial joys: He joyed in bloody fights.  
His valour Kingdoms with their Kings subdued;  
By whom the Thisbian Doves are now pursued.  
His daughter Chione, whose beauty drew  
A thousand suitors, ripe for marriage grew.  
By fortune Phoebus, the son of Mar,  
From Delphos, and Cyllenus, came this way:  
Here meeting, look, and like. The God of Light▪  
Deserres his ioy-imbracing hopes till night.  
Hermes ill-brookes delay: who on her laid  
His drowsy rod, and forced the sleepy Maid.  
Night spangs the sky with stars. An old wife's shape  
Apollo took, and seconds Hermes rape.  
Now when the fullness of her time drew nigh,  
Autolicbus was borne to Mercury.  
Nor from the Sire the Son degenerates,  
Cunning in theft, and wily in all flights:  
Who could with subtlety deceive the sight;  
Converting white to black, and black to white.  
To Phoebus (for she bore two sons) belongs  
Philammon, famous for his Harp and songs.  
What is't t'have had two sons? two God's t'inflame?  
A valiant father? jupiter the same?  
Is glory fatal? sure 'twas so to Her:  
Who to Dia●as durst her face confer,  
And blame her beauty. With a cruel look,  
She said; Our deeds shall right us. Forthwith took  
Her bow, and bent it: when the bowstring flung  
Th'ejected arrow through her guilty tongue.  
It bleeds; of speech and sound at once bereavest:  
And life, with blood, her falling body left.  
What grief (o Piety!) oppressed my heart!  
What said I not, t'assuage my brother's smart!  
Who hears me so as rocks the roaring waves  
That beat their brows; and for his Daughter raves.  
But when he saw her burn, four times assailed  
To sack the flamie Pile: as often failed.  
Then turns his heels to flight (much likaes a Bull  
By Hornets stung) whom scratching brambles pull:  
Yet seemed to run far faster than a man,  
As if his feet had wings; and all outran.  
Who swift in chase of wished death, ascends  
Pa●●assus top. As he his body bends  
To jump from downright cliffs, compassionate  
Apollo, with light wings, prevents his fate:  
With beak and talons armed; with strength replete  
Above his size: his courage still as great.  
This Falcon, friend to none, all soul persu'th:  
And grieving, is the cause of common ruth.  
Sad Ceyx thus his brother's change relates:  
When P●●●a●● Anctor pressed the gates;  
Who kept the Herd: and cried (half out of breath)  
Peleus, I bring thee news of loss and death.  
Report, said Peleus, we are bend to bear  
The worst of fortunes. While the King with fear  
Hangs on his tongue. He panting still afeard:  
To winding shores we drove the weary Herd,  
When Phoebus from the height of all the sky  
The East and West beheld with equal eye.  
A part on yellow sands their limbs display;  
And from their ease the wavy fields survey:  
While other slowly wander here and there:  
Some swim in seas, and lofty foreheads rear.  
A Fane, vnd●ckt with gold or marble stone  
adjoins; high blocked; within a grove o'ergrown.  
This the Ner●īdes and Nereus hold:  
By seamen, who there dried their nets, so told.  
near it, a Marish, thick with sallowes, stood;  
Made plashie by the interchanging stood.  
A Wolf, a monstrous beast; with hideous noise  
That frights the confines, from those thickets flies.  
His lightning jaws with blood and soame besmeared:  
In whose red eyes two darting flames appeared.  
Though fell with rage and famine; yet his rage  
More greedy far: nor hunger seeks t'assuage  
With blood of beefs, and so surcease; but all  
He meets with, wounds; insuking in their fall.  
Nor few of us, while we his force withstood,  
Fell by his rankling fangs. The shore with blood,  
With blood the sea-brimme blushed, and bellowing lakes.  
Delay is loss; and Doubt if self forsakes.  
Arm, arm, while something yet is left to lose:  
And joining force, this mortal Bane oppose.  
The Herdsman ends. Nor did this loss incense  
Aeacides; remembering his offence:  
Borne, as the justice of sad Psamathe,  
To celebrate her Phocus Obsequy.  
The King commands his men to arm: provides  
To go in person. Busy rumour guides  
This to Al●y●ne: her passion bore  
Her swiftly thither; running with her hair  
Half vncomposed: and that disordering, clung  
About his neck: then weeps; and with a tongue  
That scarce could speak, entreats, that they alone  
Might go; nor hazard both their lives in one.  
To whom Aeacides; Fair Queen forgo  
Your virtuous fear: too much your bounties flow.  
No force avails in such ●stents as these:  
'Tis prayer that must the sea-throned Power appease.  
A lofty tow●e within a fortress stood;  
A friend to wand'ring ships that plough the flood.  
They this ascend; and sig●ung, see the shore  
With cattle strewed; the Spoiler drenched in gore.  
Here Peleus fixed on seas, with knees that bend,  
Blew Psamathe implores at length to end  
The iust●●● of her wrath. She from his speech▪  
Diverts her ears: till T●e●●s did beseech,  
And got her husband's pardon: nor yet could  
The savage Wolf from thirst of blood withhold;  
T●ll she the beast, as he a Heifer flew,  
Transformed to marble; differing but in ●ew:  
All else entire. The colour of the stone  
Show him no Wolf: now terrible to none.  
Yet Fate would not permit Aeacides  
To harbour here; nor found in exile ease;  
Till at Magnesi●, in a happy time  
Acastus purged him from his bloody crime.  
Meanwhile perplexed with former prodigies  
Both of his niece and brother; to advise  
With sacred Oracles, the joys of men,  
C●yx prepares for Clares. Ph●rb●● then,  
With his Phlegyan host, alike profane,  
The passage stopped to Delphian Phoebus' Fane.  
Yet first to thee his secret purpose told,  
Faith crowned Alcyone. An inward cold  
Shot through her bones: her changing face appears  
As pale as Box, surrounded with her tears.  
Thrice strove to speak, thrice weeps through dear constraint:  
Sobs interrupting her divine complaint.  
What fault of mine, my Life, hath changed thy mind?  
Where is that love that late so clearly shined?  
Canst thou thyself enjoy, from me removed?  
Do long ways please? is now my absence loved?  
Yet didst thou go by land, I should alone  
Grieve without fear: now both combine in one.  
Seas fright me with their tragical aspect.  
Of late I saw them on the shore eiect  
Their scattered wracks: and often have I read  
Sad names on sepulchres that want their dead.  
Nor let false hopes thy confidency please;  
In that my father, great Hippotades,  
The struggling winds in rocky caverns keeps.  
And at his pleasure calms the raging Deeps.  
They once broke lose submit to no command;  
But rave o'er all the sea, and all the land;  
High clouds perplex, with stern concursions roar,  
Emitting flames: I fear, by knowledge, more.  
These knew I, and oft saw their rude comport;  
While yet a Girl, within my Fathers Court.  
But if my prayers can no recess procure;  
And that, alas, thy going be too sure;  
Take me along: let both one fortune bear;  
Then shall I only what I sister fear.  
Together sail we on the toiling Main:  
And equally what ever hap sustain.  
Thus spoke Alcyone: whose sorrows melt  
Her starlike spouse; nor he less passion felt.  
Yet neither would his first intent forsake  
Nor her a Partner in his danger make.  
Much said he to assuage her troubled breast:  
As much, in vain. This adds unto the rest,  
Which only could her pensive cares reclaime●  
All stay is irksome; by my father's Flame,  
I swear, if Fate permit, return I will  
E'●e twice the Moon her shining Crescens fill.  
Reuined with promise of so short a stay;  
He bids them launch the ship without delay,  
And fit her tackle. This renews her fears;  
Presaging ill success: abortive tears  
Flow from their springs; then kissed; a sad farewell,  
Long first, at length she takes; and swooning, fell▪  
The Seamen call aboard: in double ranks  
Reduce their oars, uprising from their Banks  
With equal str●kes She rears her humid eyes,  
And first her husband on the Poop espies  
Shaking his hand: that, answers. Now from shore  
The vessel drives, and thence her Object bore.  
Her following eyes the flying ship pursue:  
That lost, the sails her eager gazes drew.  
When all had left her, to her chamber goes;  
And on the empty bed her body throws:  
The bed and place, with tears, to mind recall  
That absent part, which gave esteem to all.  
Now far from Port; the winds began to blow  
On quivering Shrowds; their oars the Sailors slow:  
Then hoist their Yards a trip, and all their sails  
At once let fall to catch th'approaching gales.  
The Ship scarce half her Course, or sure no more,  
By this had run; far off from either shore:  
When, deep in night, fierce Lar●● fu●●y blue;  
And high-wrought Seas with cha●ing foamy grew.  
Strike, strike the Topsail, let the Main-sheat fly,  
And furl your sails, the Master cried; his cry  
The blustering winds and roaring seas suppress.  
Yet of their own accord in this distress  
They ply their tasks: some ceiling yards bestride  
And take-in sails; some stop on either side  
The yawning leaks; some seas on seas reject.  
While thus Disorder toils to small effect,  
The bitter storm augments; the wild Winds wage  
War from all parts, and join with Neptune's rage.  
The Master lost, in terror, neither knew  
The state of things, what to command, or do;  
Confessing ignorance; so huge a mass  
Of ills oppress! which slighted Art surpass.  
Loud cries of men resound; with rattling shrowds,  
Floods justling floods, and thunder-crashing clouds.  
Who late a sceptre held. His father in law,  
And father, now invokes: but could not draw  
(Alas!) from either succour. Still his wife  
Runs in his thoughts in that short span of life.  
He wished the waves would cast him on the sands  
Of Trachin, to be buried by her hands.  
Who swimming, sighs Al●yone; her name  
His last of speech: in Seas conceives the same,  
Behold; an arch of waters, black as h●ll,  
Broke o'er the flood: the breaking surges quell  
Their sinking Burden. Luciser that night  
Became obscure; nor could you see his light.  
And since he might not render up his place,  
With pitchy clouds immured his darkened face.  
Meanwhile Al●yone, not knowing ought  
Computes the tedious night; the days outwrought  
Upon a robe for him; another makes  
To wear herself: whose flattering hope mistakes  
In his return. Who holy fumes presents  
To all the Gods; but most of all frequents  
The Fane of Iu●●: at her altars prayed  
For him that was not. Grant success! (she said)  
A quick return! Give he our right to none!  
Of all her prayers the last succeeds alone.  
The melting Goddess could no longer brook  
Her death-cro●t prayers; but from her altar shook  
Her tainted hand; and thus to Iris spoke:  
Haste faithful Messenger, thy journey take  
To drowsy Sleeps dim palace: bid him send  
A dream that may present the woeful end  
Of Ceyx to Al●yone. This said;  
She, in a thousand-coloured robe arrayed,  
Her ample Bow from Heaven to Earth extends:  
And in a cloud to his abode descends.  
near the Cimmerians skulks a Cave, in steep  
And hollow hills; the Mansion of dull Sleep:  
Not seen by Phoebus when he mounts the skies,  
At height, nor stooping: gloomy mists arise  
From humid earth, which still ● twilight make.  
No crested fowls ●●rill crowings here awake  
The cheerful Morn: no ba●king Sentinel  
Here watch; nor geefe, who wakeful dogs excel.  
Beasts tame, nor savage, no wind-shaken boughs,  
Nor strife of jarring tongues, with noises rouse  
Secured Ease. Yet from the rock a spring,  
With streams of L●●●s softly murmuring,  
Purls on the pibald, and invites Repole.  
Before the Every pregnant Poppy grows,  
With numerous Simples; from whose juicy birth  
Night gathers sleep, and shed it on the Earth.  
No doors here on their cr●cking hinges jarred:  
Throughout this court there was nor ●oore, nor g●●rd.  
Amid the Hebon Cave a dow●●e bed  
High mounted stands, with sable coverings spread.  
Here lay the lazy God, dissolved in rest.  
Fantastic Dreams, who various forms expressed,  
About him co●●h: then A●●●n's cares far more;  
Or leaves of trees, or 〈◊〉 on Neptune's shore.  
The Virgin en●ing 〈◊〉 the obui●●●rs Dreams:  
And fills the sac●●d Co●●●e with the beams  
Of her bright robe. The God with strife disjoines  
His seeled lid●; ag●●● his head declines,  
And knock ● his 〈◊〉 against his breast. A●on  
Himself Himself ejects; and, ●●●ing on  
His elbow, asketh (for he knew her) why  
She thither came? When Iris made reply:  
Thou Rest of things, most meek of all the Gods;  
O Sleep, the Peace of minds, from whose abodes  
Care ever flies; restoring the decay  
Of toile-tyred limbs to labour-burdning Day:  
Send thou a Dream, resembling truth, in post  
T'Hereulean Trachin; that, like Ceyx's ghost,  
May to Alcyone his wrack unfold.  
Saturnia this commands. Her message told,  
Iris withdrew; who could the power of Sleep  
Resist no longer. When she found it creep  
Upon her yielding senses, thence she flies:  
And by her painted Bow remounts the skies.  
The Sire, among a thousand sons, excites  
Shape-faining Morpheus: of those brother Spirits  
None (bid t'assume) with subtler cunning can  
Usurp the gesture, visage, voice of man,  
His habit, and known phrase. He only takes  
A humane form: an Other shows a snakes,  
A birds, a beasts. This Icelos they call,  
Whom heaven imbowre; though P●●●betor by all  
Of mortal birth. Next Phantasus; but he,  
Of different faculty, endues a tree,  
Earth, water, stone, the several shapes of things  
That life enjoy not. These appear to Kings  
And Princes in deep night: the rest among  
The vulgar stray. Of all the german throng  
Their aged father only Morpheus chose  
To act Thau●●antia's charge, His eyes then close  
Their drowsy lids, and hanging down his head,  
Resolved to slumber, shrinks into his bed.  
His noiselesse wings through night fly Morpheus strains;  
And with the swiftness of a thought attains  
Th' Aemonian towers: then laid them by, and took  
The form of Ceyx. With a pallid look  
He naked stood, like one deprived of life,  
Before the Couch of his unhappy wife:  
His beard all wet, the hair upon his head  
With water dropped; who, leaning on her bed,  
Thus spoke; while tears from seeming passion flow.  
Dost thou, o wretched Wife, thy C●yx know?  
Or am I changed in death? look on the Lost:  
And for thy husband thou shalt see his Ghost.  
No favour could thy pious prayers obtain:  
For I am drowned; no longer hope in vain.  
Cloud-crushing Southwinds in Aegaeum caught  
Our ravished ship, and wracked her with her fraught.  
My voice the floods oppressed, while on thy name  
I vainly called. This, neither wand'ring Fame,  
Nor doubtful Author tells: this I relate;  
I, that there perished by untimely fate.  
Arise, weep, put on black: nor vndeplored  
For pity send me to the Stygian Ford.  
To this he adds a voice, such a she knew  
Expressed her Lords: with tears appearing true,  
And gesture of his hand She sighed and wept;  
Stretch out her arms t'embrace him as she slept,  
But clasped the empty air. Then cried, O stay!  
Ah, whither wilt thou! go we both one way.  
Waked with her voice, and husband's shade; with fear  
She looks about for that which was not there.  
For now the maids, raised with her shrieks, had brought  
A Taper in. Not finding what she sought,  
She strikes her cheeks, her nightly linen tore,  
Invades her breasts; nor stays t'vubind her hair,  
But tugs it off. Her Nurse the cause demands  
Of such a violence. She wrings her hands,  
And in the passion of her grief replied:  
There's no Alcyone; none, none! she died  
Together with her Ceyx. Silent be  
All sounds of comfort. These, these eyes did see  
My shipwrecked Lord. I knew him; and my hands  
Thrust forth t'have held him: but no mortal bands  
Could force his stay. A Ghost: yet manifest:  
My husband's ghost: which o but ill expressed  
His form and beauty, late divinely rare!  
Now pale, and naked, with yet dropping hair.  
Here stood the miserable; in this place:  
Here, here (and sought his airy steps to trace.)  
O this my sad mis-giving soul divined;  
When thou forsook'st me to pursue the wind.  
But since embarked for death, would I with thee  
Had put to sea: a happy face for me!  
Then both together all the time assigned  
For life had lived; nor in our death disjoined.  
Now here, I perished there: on that profound  
Poor I was wracked; yet thou without me drowned.  
O I, than floods more cruel; should I strive  
To lengthen life, and such a grief survive!  
Nor will I, nor for sake thee, nor defer.  
Though one Urn hold not both, one Sepulchre  
Shall join out titles: though thy bones from mine  
The seas dissever, yet our names shall join.  
Grief choked the rest. Sobs every accent part:  
And sighs ascend from her astonished heart.  
Day springs: She to the shore addressed her haste,  
Even to that place from whence she saw him last.  
And while she sadly utters, Here he stayed;  
Here parting, kissed me; from thence anchor weighed;  
While she such sighs recalls; her steady eyes  
Fixed on the Sea, far off she something spies;  
But knows not what: yet like a corpse. First she  
Doth doubt: driven nearer (though not near) might see  
A body plainly. Though unknown, yet much  
The Omen moved her, since his fate was such.  
Poor wretch, whoever thou art: and such (she said)  
Thy wife, if wed, by thee a widow made!  
By floods driven nearer; the more near, the more  
Her spirits faint: now nigh th' adjoining shore.  
Now sees she what she knows; her husband's corpse.  
Woe's me! 'tis He, she cries! at once doth force  
Her face, hair, habit: trembling hands extends  
To soulless Ceyx; and then said: Here ends  
My last of hopes: thus, o then life more dear;  
O husband, thus returnest thou! Art a Peer  
Had stretched into the surges; Which withstood,  
And broke the first incursion of the flood.  
Thither forthwith (o wonderful!) she springs;  
●eating the passive air with new-growne wings.  
Who, now a bird, the waters summit rakes:  
About she ●ies, and full of sorrow, makes  
A mournful noise; lamenting her divorce:  
Anon she touched his dumb and bloodless corpse;  
With stretched wings embraced her perished bliss;  
And gave his colder lips a heatlesse kiss.  
Whether he felt it, or the floods his look  
advanced, the vulgar doubt: vetsure he took  
Sense from touch. The Gods commiserate:  
And change them both, obnoxious to like fate.  
As erst, they love: their nuptial faiths they show  
In little birds; engender, parents grow.  
Seven winter days with peaceful calms possessed.  
Halcyon sits upon her floating nest.  
Then safely sail: then Aeolus incaves  
For his, the winds; and smooths the stooping waves.  
Some old man seeing these their pinions move  
O'er broad-spread Seas, extols their endless love.  
By theirs, a Neighbour, or Himself, teviues  
An others fate. Yon'sable fowl that diues;  
(And therewith shows the wide-mouthed Cormorant)  
Of royal parentage may also vaunt.  
Whose ancestors from Tros their branches spread:  
Ilas, Assaracus, Ioues Ganymod,  
Laomedon, and Priamus the last  
That reigned in Troy: to Hector (Who surpassed  
In fortitude) a brother. If by power  
Of Fate unchanged in his youths first flower,  
He might perhaps as great a name have won:  
Thought Hector were great Dymas daughters son.  
For Alixoth●●, a country Maid,  
Bare Aesacus by stealth in Ida's shade.  
He, hating Cities, and the discontents  
Of glittering Courts; the lovely woods frequents,  
And unambitious fields; but made repair  
To Ilium rarely: yet, he debonair,  
Nor unexpugnable to love. Who splde  
Eperia, oft desired, by Cebrens' side  
(Her father's river) drying in the Sun  
Her fluent hair. Away the Nymph did run,  
Swift as a frighted Hind the Wolf at hand;  
Or like a fearful fowl thrust over-land  
Beneath a falcon. He pursues the chase:  
Fear wings her feet, and love enforced his pace.  
Behold a lurking Viper in this strife,  
Ceased on her heel; repressing flight with life.  
Frantic, his trembling arms the dead include:  
Who cried, Alas that ever I pursued!  
● feared not this; nor was the victory  
Worth such a loss. Ay me! two, one destroy.  
Thy wound the Serpent, I the occasion gave:  
●, o more wicked! yet thy death shall have  
My life for satisfaction. Therewith flung  
His body from a cliff which over-hung  
The undermining Seas. His falling limbs  
Upheld by Tethys' pity; as he swims  
She his person plumes, nor power of dying gives.  
To be compelled to live the Lover grieves:  
Disdaining that his soul, so well appai'd  
To leave her wretched seat, should thus be stayed,  
And mounting on new wings, again on Seas  
His body throws: the fall his feathers ease.  
With that, enraged, into the deep he diues:  
And still to drown himself as vainly strives.  
Love makes him, lean. A long neck doth sustain  
His sable head; long-jointed legs remain.  
Nor ever the affected Seas for sakes;  
And now a suited name from diving takes.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The twelfth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
A Snake; a snake-like Stone. Cv●nus, alwan,  
Caenis the maid, now Caenens and a man,  
Becomes a Fowl. Neleius varies sha●es:  
At last an Eagle; nor Alcides' scaepet.  
OLd Priaus mourns for Aesacus; nor knew  
That he survived, and with light feathers flew.  
While Hector and his brethren dues, with tears,  
Pay to the tomb which his inscription bears.  
But Paris, absent from that obsequy,  
Strait, with his Rape, brought ten years' war to Troy.  
A thousand ships, in one confederate,  
Pursue his stealth, with all the Achaean State.  
Nor vowed revenge so long had been delayed;  
If wrathful Seas had not their passage stayed;  
At fishie Aulis, in Boe●tia,  
Their wind-bound Navy in expectance lay.  
Here, as th'old use, to love they sacrifice.  
While from the antique altar flames arise;  
A blue scaled Dragon, in the Army's view,  
Ascends a tree, which near the altar grew.  
A feathered nest the upper branches bear,  
With twice four birds: these and their dam (with fear  
Flying about her losle) the greedy snake  
At length devoured. This all with wonder strake.  
When Chilchas cried (who could the truth divine)  
Rejoice, Pelasgans, 'tis a happy sign!  
Proud Troy shall fall; though with long toil and care:  
These th'ice three birds, thrice three years' war declare.  
He, wound about a bough, gorged with his rape;  
Became a Stone, hat held the Serpent's shape.  
Still Ner●us in Aônian surges raves:  
Nor war transferies. Some think the God of Waves  
Would Troy preserve; and save the walls he made.  
Thestorides resents: who knew, and said,  
A virgin's blood must Diana ' reconcile.  
Now did the public cause the private foil;  
A King a father; I phige●ia stood  
Before the altar to resign her blood.  
The Priest did weep; the Goddess pitieth too:  
Who ●'re their eyes a cloudy meet or threw;  
And while they prosecute her rites, and prayed;  
Produced a Hind to represent the Maid.  
When fitter sacrifice had dulled her rage;  
Her fury and the Seas, at once assuage.  
A forewind than their thousand Vessels bore:  
Who, suffering much, attain the Phrygian shore.  
A●●d the world, 'twixt Air, Earth, Neptune's brine,  
A place there is; the triple Worlds confine.  
Where all that's done, though far removed, appear:  
And every whisper penetrates the care.  
The House of Fame: who in the highest tower  
Her lodging takes. To this capacious bower  
Innumerable ways conduct; no way  
With doors debarred, but open night and day.  
All built of ringing brass; through out resounds:  
The heard reports, and every word rebounds.  
No rest within, no silence: yet the noise.  
Not loud, but like the murmuring of a voice,  
As seas that sally on far-distant shores;  
Or as Ioues terminating thunder roars.  
Hither the idle Vulgar come and go:  
Millions of Rumours wander to and fro;  
Lies mixed with truths, in words that vary still.  
Of these, with news unknowing ears Some fill;  
Some carry tales: all in the telling grows;  
And every Author adds to what he knows.  
Here dwells rash Error, light Credulity,  
Dejected Fear, and vainly grounded loy;  
New raised Sedition, secret Whisper  
Of unknown Authors, and of doubtful things.  
All done in Heaven, Earth, Ocean, Fame sun views:  
And through the ample world inquires of news.  
She notice gave, how with a dreadful host  
The Grecian Navy steered for their coast.  
Nor unexpected came: the Troyans' bend  
Their powers t'encounter, and their shores defend.  
First thou thy life, Protesildus, lost  
By Hector's fatal lance; the battle cost  
The greeks a world of souls: so clearly shone  
Their fortitudes; great Hector yet unknown.  
Nor no small streams of blood their valours drew  
From Phrygian wounds, who felt what Greece could do.  
And now their mingled gores Sig●●● stain:  
Now Neptune's Cycnus had a thousand slain.  
Now, in his chariot, on Achilles fell;  
And with his lance whole squadrons sent to hell:  
Seeking for Cyenus, or for Hector, round  
About the field; at length brave Cycnus found:  
(For Fate nine years great Hector's life sustains.)  
Cheering his horses with the flaxen manes,  
His thundering Chariot drives against his foe,  
And shakes his trembling lance: about to throw;  
O youth, he said, what e'er thou art, rejoice:  
Achilles honours thee with death. His voice  
His spear pursues: the steel no wound impressed  
Though strongly thrown. When, bounding from his breast  
He said; Thou Goddesse-borne, Fame brutes thee such;  
Why wonder'st thou (Achilles wondered much)  
This helm with horse-haire plumed, this shield I bear,  
Defend not me: for fashion these I wear.  
So Mars his person arms. Should I display  
My naked breast, thy force could find no way  
The grace to be Nereus' son is small:  
What his, who Nereus, who his Nymphs, who all  
The Ocean guides? Then at Achilles threw  
His lance, that pierced his plated shield, and through  
Nine oxe-hides rushed: the tenth did it restrain.  
The Heros caught it, and retorts again  
The singing steel; again it gave no wound.  
The third assay no better entrance found,  
Though Cyc●●s barred his bosom to the blow.  
He rages like a bull in Citcian Show;  
Whose dreadful horns the stammel, which provokes  
His fury, toss with still deluded strokes.  
Then searches if the head were off: that on;  
What, is my hand, said he, so feeble grown?  
On one is all my vigour spent? My power  
Was more, when first I razed Lyrnessus tower:  
When Tenedos, Eetiou, Thebes, were filled  
With blood of theirs, by my encounters spilt.  
The red Caycus slaughtered natives died:  
Twice Telephus my powerful lavelin tried.  
Behold these heaps of bodies! these I flew:  
Much could my hand have done; as much can do.  
This said, his former deeds almost suspects,  
And at Menetes breast his aim directs,  
(A Lycian of mean rank) the thrilling dart  
Quite through his faithless cuirass pierced his heart:  
Whose dying body struck the groaning ground.  
Snatching the weapon from his recking wound;  
This hand, he said, this now victorious lance  
Shall urge thy fate: assist me equal Chance!  
With that, th'unerring dart at Cycnus flung.  
Th'unevitated on his shoulder rung;  
Which like a rock the lance repelled again:  
Yet where it hit it left a purple stain;  
By vainly glad Ae●idas descried:  
He woundless: this Menetes blood had died.  
Then roaring, from his chariot leaps; and made  
A horrid onset with his flaming blade:  
Who sees the breaches in his helm and shield;  
Yet he secure: his skin the steel unsteeld.  
Now all impatient, with the hilt his Foe's  
Hard front invades with thick redoubled blows:  
Pursues his back retreat, perturbs, insists;  
Nor lets the astonished breath. He faints; blue mists  
Swim o'er his eyes: whose now averted steps  
A stone withstood. On whom Achilles leaps  
Or else assured. Caenis still for boar  
All nuptial ties. As on the secret shore  
She walked alone, the Sea-god her dissent  
Enforced to Rape: for so the rumour went.  
Rapt with the joy of loves first tasted fruit;  
All shall, said Neptune, to thy wishes suit;  
Wish what thou wilt. So Fame the story told.  
My wrong, said Caenis, makes my wishes bold:  
That never like enforcement may befall,  
Be I no woman; and thou giv'st me all.  
Her latter words a deeper voice express,  
Much like a man's, for now it proved no less.  
The Sea-God had assented to her will:  
And further adds, that steel should neither kill  
Nor wound his person, Young Atracides,  
Departs; rejoicing in such gifts as these:  
Who great in every manly virtue grows;  
And haunts the fields through which Paeneus flows.  
The son of bold Ixi●● now had wed  
Hippodame: the savage Cenraures, bred  
Of clasped Clouds, his invitation graced;  
In plashed bowers at sundry tables placed.  
There were th' Aemoniax Princes; there was I:  
The Palace rung with our confused joy.  
They Hymen sing; the altars fume with flames:  
Forth came th' admired Bride with troops of dames.  
We call Pirithaus happy in his choice:  
But scarce maintain the O men of that voice.  
For Eurytus, more heady than the rest,  
Fowl rapine harbours in his savage breast;  
Incensed by beauty, and the heat of wine;  
Lust and sobriety, in outrage join.  
Strait, turn'd-vp boards the feast profane: the fair  
And tender spouse now haled by the hair.  
Fierce Eurytus Hippodime: all took  
Their choice, or whom they could: sacked cities look  
With such a face. The women shriek: we rise.  
When Theseus first; o Eurytus, unwise!  
Dar'st thou offend Pirithous as long  
As Theseus' lives? in one two suffer wrong.  
The great-sould He●os, not to boast in vain,  
Breaks through the throng, and from his fierce disdain  
The Rape reprised. He no reply affords;  
Such facts could not be justified by words:  
But with his fists the brave redeemer pressed;  
Assails his face, and strikes his generous breast.  
Hard by there stood an antique goblet, wrought  
With extant figures: this Aegides caught;  
Hurled at the face of Eurytus: a flood  
O freeking wine, of brains, and clotted blood  
At once he vomits from his mouth and wound;  
And falling backward, kicks the dabbled ground.  
The Centaurs, frantie●ie for their brother's death,  
Arm, arm, resound, with one exalted breath.  
Wine courage gives. At first an uncouth ●●light  
Of flagons, pots, and bowls, began the fight:  
Late fit for banquets, now for blood and broiks.  
First Amycus, Op●ions issue, spoils  
The sacred places of their gifts; down ramps  
A brazen cresset t●●uche with burning ●●●yes:  
This swings a loft, as when a white-haired Bull  
The Sacrificer strikes; which crushed the skull  
of Celadon the Lapit●i●s, and Just  
His face unknown: confusion form bereft.  
Out start his eyes; his battered nose betwixt  
His shivered bones slat to his palate fixed.  
Pallaean Pelades a tressel tore  
That propped the board, and felled him to the flore,  
He knocks his chin against his breast, and spude  
Blood mixed with teeth. A second blow pursued  
The first; and sent his vexed soul to hell.  
Next, Gryncus stood; his looks with vengeance swell:  
Serves this, said he, for nothing? there with raised  
A loft a mighty Altar: as it blazed,  
Among the Lapi●●hites his burden threw;  
Which Broteas, and the bold Orion slew.  
Orion's mother Mygale, eftsoon  
Could with her charms deduce the struggling Moon.  
Exadius cried, Nor shalt thou so depart  
Had I a weapon. Of a voted heart  
The Antlers from a Pine he pulls; they six  
Their forks in Gryncus darkened eyes: this sticks  
Upon the horn, that in concreted gore  
Hung on his beard. A firebrand Rhaelus bore,  
Snatch from the Altar; and Charaxus he●d  
Cracked through the skull, with yellow tresses spread.  
The rapid flame his blazing curls surround,  
Like come on fire; blood broiling in his wound  
Horribly hisses: asked steel that gloes  
With servant blasts, which pliant tongues dispose  
To quenching coole-troughes, sputtors, strives, consumes;  
And hissing under heated 〈◊〉, fumes.  
The Wounded from his singed tresses shakes  
The greedy flame; and on his shoulders takes  
A stone torn from the threshold, which alone  
Would load a wain, as distant Rhoetus thrown.  
This, falling short, Comeles life invades:  
And sent his friend to everlasting shades.  
When Rhoetus, laughing; May you all abound  
In strength so tried; and aggravates his wound  
With repercussions of his burning brand.  
Crushed bones now sink in brains. Then turns his hand▪  
Upon young Coritus, Euagrus, Dryas:  
Which gave to Coritus a fatal pass.  
What glory can the slaughter of a boy  
Afford, Euagrus said? nor more could say:  
For Rhoetus, e'er his jaws together came,  
Hid in his throat and breast the choking flame.  
Then whisks the brand about his brows, and drives  
At valiant Dryas: but no longer thrives.  
For through his shoulder, who had triumphed long  
In daily slaughter, Dryas fixed his prong.  
Who groaning, tugs it out with all his might:  
And soiled with blood, converts his heels to flight.  
So Lycidas, Arnaeus, Medon (sped  
In his right arm) Pisenor, Caumaes', fled:  
Wound-tardie Mermerus, late swift of pace;  
Meneleus, Pholus; Abas, used to chase  
The Boar; and Astyl●s, who fates fore-knew:  
Who vainly bade his friends that war eschew;  
And said to frighted Nessus, Fly not so;  
Thou art reserved for great Alcides' bow.  
But yet Eurynomus, nor Lycidas,  
Arcus, nor Imbreus, unslaughtred pass:  
All quelled by Dryas hand. Thee Cantus too,  
Though turned about for slight, afore-wound side▪  
For looking back; the point between his sights,  
There where the nose joins with the forehead, lights.  
Who with his shield and burganet defends  
The sounding strokes: yet still his sword extends,  
And 'twixt his shoulders at one thrust doth gore  
His double breasts. Yet had he slain before  
Phlegraeus, Hyles, with his lances flight;  
Hiphinôus and Danes, in close fight.  
Adds Dorylas to these; who wore a skull  
Of Wolfe-skin tanned; the sharp horns of a Bull,  
In stead of other weapons, fixed before:  
And died in crimson with Laepithian gore.  
To whom, with courage fired, I said in scorn;  
Behold how much our steel excels thy horn.  
And threw my lance: not to be shunned, he now  
Claps his right hand upon his threatened brow;  
Which both together nailed. They roar: and while  
Th'ing aged with his bitter wound doth toil;  
Thy father, who was nearest, nearer made:  
And through his navel thrust his deadly bl●d●.  
He bounds, and on the earth his bowels trailer;  
The trailed kicks, the kicked in pe●ces hak●●;  
Which winding, fetter both his legs and thighs  
So falls; and with a gutlesse belly dies.  
Nor thee thy beauty, Cyllarus, could save:  
If such a two-formed figure beauty have.  
His chin now began to bud with down of gold;  
And golden curls his ivory back in sold:  
His looks a pleasing vigour grace; his breast,  
Hands, shoulders, necks, and all that man expressed,  
Surpassing arts admired images.  
Nor were his bestial parts a shame to these:  
Add but a horse's head and crest, he were  
For Castor's use; his back so strong to bear,  
So largely chested; blacker than the crow:  
His tail and feet-lockes, white as falling snow.  
A number of that nation sought his love;  
Whom none but fair ●ylonome could move:  
None for attracting favour so excel,  
Of all the halfe-mares that on Othrys dwell.  
She, by sweet words, by loving, by confessed  
Affection, only Cyllarus possessed.  
With combs she smooths her hair; her person trimmet  
With all that could be graceful to such limbs.  
Of Roses, Rosemary and Violets,  
And oft of Lilies curious dress pleats.  
‛ Twice daily washed her face in Springs that fall▪  
From Pagasaean hills; twice daily all  
Her body baths in cleansing streams: and ware  
The skins of beasts, such as were choice and rare,  
Which flowing from her shoulder cross her breast,  
Veil her left side. Both equal love possessed:  
Together on the shady mountains stray,  
In woods and hollow caves together lay.  
Then to the palace of the Lepithits  
Together came; and now together fight.  
A iaveline from the left hand flung, thy breast  
O Cyllarus, beneath thy neck impressed.  
His heart though slightly hurt (the dart exhaled)  
Grew forthwith cold; and all his body paled.  
Hylonome his dying limbs receives;  
●oments his wound: close to his lips she cleaver,  
To stay his flying soul. But when she found  
Life's fire extinct; with words in clamour drowned,  
Even on that steel, which through his bosom past,  
She threw her own: and him in death embraced.  
Me thinks I see grim Phoeocomes yet:  
Who with two Lions skins, together knit,  
Protects his man and beast. A log he took,  
Which scarce two team could draw; this darted, struck  
The Crown of Phonol●nides: his brains  
It through the fractures of his skull constrains;  
Which from his mouth, eyes, ears, and nostrils gushed,  
Like curds through wicker squeezed; or iuces erusht  
Through draining Colendars. As he the dead  
Prepares t'unarm, my sword his bowels shred.  
Your father saw his downfall. Chthonius too,  
And stout Teleb●● our fawchion slew.  
The first a forked branch, the other held  
A lengthfull lance: the lance this wound impelled;  
Whereof you see the ancient scar. Then I,  
Then should I have been sent t'have ruined Troy.  
Then might I have restrained, if not o'erthrown  
Great Hector. But, he either than was none,  
Or else a child. Now spent with age, I wain.  
What speak I of two-shape Pyretus, slain  
By Periphas? Thy dart, without a head,  
Brave Ampycus, foure-hooned Oicles sped.  
Macareus, borne by Pelethronian rocks,  
Huge Erigdupus with a leaver knocks  
To echoing earth. His dart Cymelus sheathed  
Deep in Nessaeus groin, and life bereaved.  
Nor would you think Ampycides alone  
Could Fate foretell; a lance by Mopsus thrown  
Odites slew: this, as the Centaur railed,  
His tongue t'his chin, his chin t'his bosom nailed.  
Five Caeneus slew; Bro●nus Antimachus,  
Axe-armed Pyracmos, Helins, Sliph●l●●s,  
Although forgetful by what wounds they fell;  
Their names, and number, I remember well.  
Giantlike Latreus lighteneth to these broils;  
Armed with Emathian Alesus spoils:  
His years, 'twixt youth and age; nor age impairs  
The strength of youth, though sprinkled with grey hairs,  
A Maccdonian spear, a sword, a shield,  
Confirm his powers: o're-viewes the well-fought field,  
Clashes his arms; and trotting in a round,  
Infringed the air with this disdainful sound.  
Shall I endure thee Caenis? still to me  
Thou art a woman, and shalt Caenis? be.  
Thou hast forgot thy births original,  
And for what fact rewarded; by what fall  
Advanced to this man-counterfeiting shape.  
Think of thy birth; think of thy easy rape.  
Go, take a spindle and a distaff; twine  
The carded wool; and arms to men resign.  
While thus he scoffs; and circularly ran;  
Caeneus his sides gores with his lance, where man  
And horse unite. He, mad with angush, flings  
His spear at the Phyllaean youth, which rings  
On his untainted face; and back recoils,  
As pebbles dropped on drums, or hail on tiles.  
Then rushing on, with thrusts affayes to wound  
His hardened sides; the sword no entrance found.  
Nor shalt thou scape; the edge shall launch thy throat,  
Although the point be dull. This said, and smote  
At once. The blow, as if on marble, sounds:  
And from his neck the broken blade rebounds:  
When he his charmed limbs had open laid  
Enough to wounds and wonder, Caeneus said:  
Now will we try, if thou our sword canst feel.  
Then 'twixt his shoulders thrusts the fatal steel●  
Up to the hilts; which to and fro he wanes  
Deep in his guts, and wounds on wounds ingraves.  
The frighted Centaurs, with a horrid cry,  
On him alone, with all their weapons sly.  
Their darts rebated fall, but draw no blood:  
For Caeneus still in-vulnerable stood.  
This more amazed. Ah, Monychus exclaime●,  
One foils us all, to all our endless shames▪  
He scarce a man! nay he the man, and we  
Are what he was: so poor our actions be.  
What boots our mighty limbs? our double force?  
The strongest of all creatures, man and horse,  
In us by nature joined? sure we are not  
A Goddess birth; nor by Ixíon got,  
Who durst the Queen of Deities embrace.  
This Halfe-man conquers his degenerate race.  
Stones, massy logs, whole mountains on him roll;  
And with congested trees crush out his soul.  
Let woods oppress his jaws: o'erwhelm with weight,  
In stead of idle wounds. Thus he: and strait  
An Oak, up-rooted by the furious blasts  
Of frantic winds, on valiant Caeneus casts.  
Th' example quickly Othrys difaraide  
Of all his trees; and Pelion wanted shade.  
Pressed with so huge a burden, Caeneus swea●●:  
And to th'o'erwhelming oaks his shoulders sets.  
But now the load above his statu●e climbs,  
And chokes the passage of his breath. Sometimes  
He faints; then struggles to advance his crown  
Above the Pile, and throw the timber down:  
Sometimes the pressure with his motion quakes;  
As when an earthquake yonder Id● shakes.  
His end was doubtful: some there be, who tell  
How with that weight his body sunk to hell.  
Mopsus dissents; who saw a fowl arise  
From thence with yellow wings, and mount the skies;  
(The first I ever saw) which flying round  
About our Tents, sent forth a mount defull sound.  
This he pursuing with his soul and fight,  
Cried, Hail thou glory of the Lapithite!  
O Caeneus, late a man at arms; but now  
An unmatched fowl! His witness all allow.  
Grief whets our fury; brooking ill, that one  
By such a multitude should be o'erthrown:  
And Sorrow so long executes the fight,  
Till half were slain: half saved by speed, and night.  
Tlepelemus could not his tongue debar:  
Since in the repetition of that war,  
Of Hercules he had no mention made.  
Old man, how can you so forget (he said)  
Akides praise? my father oft would tell,  
How by his hand the Cloud-borne Centaurs sell.  
To this sad Nestor answered: why should you  
Compel me to remember, and renew  
My sorrow lost in time? or iterate  
Your father's guilt; together with my hate?  
His acts transcend belief; his high repute  
Fills all the world: which would I could refute.  
But not Polyd●●●as Deiphob●●,  
Nor valiant Hector, are extolled by us.  
For who commends his●foe? Mess●n●'s walls  
He razed: fair Elis, Pylus, in their falls  
Detest his fury; Cities which his hate  
Had not deserved: with them, did ruinate  
Our House with sword and fire. Not now to tell  
Of others, who by his stern outrage fell;  
‛ Twice six-faire famed Neleîdae were we;  
Twice six Alsides slew, excepting me.  
Conquest is common: but, o more than strange  
Was Periclymen's slaughter! Who could change  
And rechange to all figures. Such a grace  
Great Neptune gave; the root of Neleus race.  
He, forced to vary forms, at length unfolds  
Ioues well-loued Fowl, who in her talons holds  
Impetuous thunder; and His visage tears  
Both with his crooked beak, and armed sears.  
At him his bow, too sure, Alcides drew,  
As towering in the lofty clouds he flew,  
And struck his side-ioyned wing. The wound was slight;  
But sundered nerves could not sustain his flight.  
When tumbling down, his weight the arrow smote  
In at his side, and thrust it through his throat.  
Now brave Commander of the Rhodian Fleet;  
Think'st thou Alcides praise a subject mere  
For my discourse? Alone with silence we  
Revenge our slaughtered brothers; and love thee.  
When Nestor with mellifluous eloquence  
Had thus much uttered; they with speech dispense,  
And liberal Bacchus quaff: then all arose;  
And give the rest of night to soft repose.  
The God, whose Trident calms the Ocean,  
For strangled Cyenus, turned into a Swan,  
Grieves with paternal grief, Achilles' fate  
He prosecutes with more than civil hate.  
Ten years now well-nigh lapsed in horrid fights,  
Thus unshorn Smintheus his stern rage excites.  
Of all our brother's sons to us most dear;  
Whose hands, with ours, Troy's walls in vain did rear:  
O si hist thou not to see the Asian towers  
So near their fall? their own, and aiding powers  
By millions slain? the last of all their joy  
Dead Hector dragged about his father's Troy?  
Yet dire Achilles, who our labour gives  
To utter spoil, than War more cruel, lives.  
Came he within my reach, he then should try  
The vengeance of my Trident: but since I  
Cannot approach t'encounter with my foe;  
Let him thy close and mortal arrows know.  
Delius assents: his uncle's wrath intends;  
With it, his own; and in a cloud descends  
To th' Illian host: amid the battle seeks  
For Paris, shooting at un-noted greeks.  
Then showed a God, and said: Why dost thou lose  
Thy shafts so basely? nobler objects chose;  
If thou of thine at lest hast any care:  
Thy brethren's deaths revenge on Peleus' heir.  
Then showed him stern Achilles, as he slew  
The Trow an troops: and, while his bow he drew,  
Directs the deadly shaft. This only might  
Old Priam, after Hector's death, delight.  
Him, who with conquests cloyed the jaws of death,  
A faint adulterer deprives of breath.  
If by th'effeminate to be o'erthrown;  
Then should the Pole-axe of the Am●zon  
Have forced thy fate. The Phrygian fear; the fame,  
And strong protection of the Grecian Name,  
Invincible Aeacides now burns:  
The God, who armed, his bones to ashes turns.  
And of that great Achilles scarce remains  
So much as now a little Urn contains.  
Yet still he lives; his glory lightens forth,  
And fills the world: this answers his full worth.  
This, o divine Pelides, soars as high  
As thy great spirit; and shall never die.  
And even his arms, to instance whose they were;  
Procure a war. Arms for his arms they bear.  
Atax Oileus, Diomedes, nor  
The less Atrideses, not in age and war  
The Greater: no nor any; but the Son  
Of old Latries, and bold Telamonius,  
Durst hope for such a prize. Tantalides,  
To shun the burden, and the hate of these,  
The Princes bids to sit before his tent:  
And puts the strife on their arbitrement.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The Thirteenth Book:  
THE ARGUMENT.  
THose purple flowers which Aiax 〈◊〉 display,  
His blood produce. Enraged He●ub●  
Becomes a Bitch. From Memnon's cinders rise  
Self slaughtering Fowl: a yearly sacrifice.  
What ever Anius daughters handle, proves  
Corn, wine, or oil▪ themselves transformed to Domes.  
From honoured virgins ashes Sons ascend.  
Th' Ambracian judge a Stone. Light wings defend  
M●lossus royal issue. Scylla grows  
A horrid Monster. Murdered Acis flows  
With speedy streams. The kind Nercides  
For Glaucus sue: i●●bro●'d in sacred Sca●.  
THe great Chiefs sat; the Soldier's crown the field:  
Up rose the Master of the sevenfold Shield.  
With wrath impatient, his stern eyes survey.  
Sigaeum, and the Navy which there lay.  
Then holding up his hands, Ô jove, he said;  
Before the Fleet must we our title plead?  
And is Ulysses my Competitor?  
Whose flightful fear did Hector's flames abhor.  
Th●se, I, sustained; from those this Navy treed.  
Transfer to contend in word than deed,  
I cannot talk, nor can he fight: as far  
His tongue excels, as I exceed in war.  
Nor need I to rehearse what you have seen  
In act, renowned greeks: what his hath been  
●er Ithacus declare; performed by slight,  
Without a witness, only known to Night.  
Great is th' affected prize, I must confess:  
But such a Rival makes the Value less.  
For me 'tis no ambition to obtain,  
How eue● great, what he could hope to gain.  
Who of this st●fe now wins the praise; that he,  
When vanquished, may boast he strove with me.  
But were my valour questioned, I might on  
My birth insist, begot by Telamonius,  
Who under Hercules Troy's bulwarks scaled:  
And in Pagascan keel to Colchus sailed.  
His father, Aeacus; the judge of Souls,  
Where S●lyphus his restesse torment rolls.  
High jupiter upon a mortal Love  
Got Aeacus: I Arax third from jove.  
Nor let this pedigree assist my claim,  
If great Achilles joined not in the same.  
He was my brother, his I ask. Why thus  
Shouldst thou, thou son of damned Sisyphus,  
Alike in thief▪ and fraud, a stranger to  
Achille● race, the right of his pursue?  
Because I first assumed arms, deseiyed  
By no detector, are these arms denied?  
Or rather for the last in field designed;  
Who with f●un'd lunacy the war declined:  
Till Palamed more politic, and more  
Selfe-fatall, did his coward-guile explore,  
And drew him to avoided arms? Must he  
Now wear the best, who all eschewed? and we  
Unhonoured, of hereditary right  
Deprived, in that we first appeared in fight?  
And would to jove he had become truly mad;  
Or still so thought: nor this companion had,  
This tempter to foul actions, ever seen  
The Phrygian towers. The shouldst not thou have been  
O Paeaus son, exposed by our crime  
To Lemnian rocks: where thou consumest thy time  
In lovely caves obscured with woods, the stones  
Preuoked to pity with thy daily groans,  
And wishest him, what he deserves, thy pain:  
If there are Gods thou wishest not in vain.  
Now our Confederate (a Prince of brave  
Command) to whom his shafts Alcides give;  
Broken with pain and famine, doth employ  
Those arrows, that import the fate of Troy,  
For food and clothing: yet he lives the while,  
In that removed from Ulysses' guile.  
And Palamed might wish t'have been so left:  
Then had he lived, or perished unbereft  
Of his dear fame. This, hellishly inclined,  
Bears his convicted madness in his mind;  
And falsely him accused to have betrayed  
Th' Achaean host; confirming what he said  
By showing sums of gold, which in his tent  
Himself had hid. Thus he by banishment  
Or death, our strength impairs; for this preferred:  
So fights, so is Ulysses to be feared.  
Though faithful Nestor he in eloquence,  
Surpass, his leaving Nestor, no defence  
Of words can salve: who slow with tired Age  
And wounded Steeds, implored to his engage  
Ulysses help; who left to odds of foes  
His old acquaintance. This Tydides' knows  
For no forged crime; who vainly called, to stay  
His trembling friend, reviling his dismay.  
The Gods with I●stice view our humane deeds,  
Who would not late assist, assistance needs:  
And now to be forsaken by the law  
Himself prescribed. He cried; I came, and saw  
The coward quaking, pale, about to yield  
His ghost for scare. I interposed my shield;  
Best●●d him as he lay; and from that strife  
Redeemed (my least of praise) his coward life.  
But if thou wilt contend, rejoin we there;  
Revoke the foe, thy wounds, and usual fear;  
Behind my target sculke: then plead. This man,  
Who 〈◊〉 with wounds; freed, as unwounded, ran.  
N●w 〈◊〉 came, and brought the Gods along;  
R●sla on all parts: not thou alone, the strong  
And best● es●●lued thrinke: so great a dread  
He drew on all. Him, as he trumph led  
Through blood and slaughter, with a mighty stone  
〈…〉 to ca●th: Him I sustained alone,  
When he to all ●o bold a challenge made;  
What 〈◊〉 my lot you all devoutly prayed,  
No, 〈◊〉 in vain: If you inquire the sum  
O● 〈◊〉 ●ight, I was not over come.  
With v●nege full weapons, flames, and love, the men  
Of Troy ●uade our navy: where was then  
Your eloquent Ulysses? ay, even I  
A thousand ships preserved; whereon rely  
The hope of your return. These arms for all  
Your Fleet afford. The meed more honour shall  
Receive then give: our glories justly pease;  
These arms do Aiax seek, not Aiax these.  
Rhesus surprise, with ours let him compare;  
That poor Spy Dolon's, Hellenus despair;  
The rapt Palladum: nothing done by day;  
He nothing worth, take Diomedes away.  
If to such mean deserts these arms accrue;  
Divide them: to Tydides' most is due.  
Why would he these? who still unarmed goes,  
Concealed; and cunningly entraps his foes?  
This radiant Cask that shines with burnished gold;  
Will his deceit, and lurking steps unfold.  
His neck can scarce Achilles' helmet bear;  
Nor can his feeble arm employ this spear:  
His shield, whose orb the figured world adorns;  
A coward's arm, inur'd to thieving, scorns.  
O fool, that thus thy own undoing seeks!  
If given thee by th'error of the greeks,  
It will not make thee dreadful to thy foe;  
But be th'occasion of thy overthrow,  
And flight, wherein thou only dost exceed,  
Clogged with so huge a weight, will fail thy need.  
Besides, thy shield in battle rarely borne,  
Is yet entire: mine, all to hacked and torn  
With storms of blows, a new successor needs.  
What boots so many words? behold our deeds.  
These arms deliver to the foes defence:  
And let him wear, that wins the prize from thence.  
Here Aiax ends. The Soldier in the close  
A murmur raised; till Ith●cus arose:  
Who having fixed on the earth a space  
His eyes, unto the Princes raised his face;  
And now expected, spoke unto this sense;  
With all the grace of winning eloquence.  
Grecians; If heaven, with yours, had heard my prayer;  
So great a strife had found no doubtful Heir:  
〈◊〉 hadst kept thy arms, Achilles, and we thee.  
〈◊〉 stain Fate, averse to you and me,  
S●●●ueted an Excellence denies;  
With that appears to weep, and wipes his eyes)  
Who great Achilles with more right succeeds,  
Than he who gave you great Achilles' deeds?  
Let not his folly purchase you assent;  
Nor let my wit, in that so prevalent  
For you, my loss incur: nor hate incense,  
That for myself I arm my eloquence;  
(It I have any) oft for you employed.  
〈◊〉 one the glory of his own avoid.  
〈…〉 estors, druine original,  
And deeds by us not done, we ours miscall.  
Yet in that Aiax vaunts himself to be  
●●eat-grand hold unto jove; no less are we.  
I 〈◊〉 was my Site, Arc●sius his;  
His jupiter: in this def●ent there is  
None damned nor banni●t. By the venture I  
〈…〉 inespring: in both a Deity.  
No that more noble by the mother's side,  
Nor that my father had his hands undide  
〈◊〉 hers blood, do I enforce this claim:  
Weigh but our worths; and censure by the same  
That Telamonius and Peleus brethren were,  
In Aiax is no merit. Not the near  
In birth, but Great in act, deserve this grace.  
Or if proximity in blood have place,  
Peleus his father, Pyrrhus is his son:  
What right remains for Aiax Telamonius?  
To Phthia then, or Scyros carry these.  
Teucer is cousin to Aeacides  
As well as he; yet stirs not he herein:  
Or if he should, should he the honour win?  
Then since our actions must our suit advance;  
Although my deeds surmount my utterance,  
Their abstract yet in order to relate:  
Thetis, foreknowing great Achilles' fate,  
Disguised her son: so like a Virgin dressed,  
That all mistook, and Aiax with the rest.  
When, Arms, with women's trifles, that might blind  
Suspect, I brought to tempt a manly mind.  
Yet was the Heros Virginlike arrayed;  
Who taking up the Spear and Shield, I said:  
O Goddesse-borne, for thee the fate of Troy  
Her fall reserves: Why doubts thou to destroy  
Great Pergamus? then made him d'off those weeds:  
And sent the mighty unto mighty deeds.  
His acts are therefore ours. We Telephus  
Foiled with our lance; the suppliant cured by us.  
Strong Thobes we sacked: sacked Lesbos us renowns.  
Chrysa and Tenedos (Apollo's towns)  
With Cilla; Sea-girt Syros, in their falls  
Our fame advance: we razed Lyrnessu's walls.  
To pass the rest; I gave, who could subdue  
The brave Priatnides: I Hector slew.  
For th'arms that found Achilles, these I crave:  
He dead, I ask but what, alive, I gave.  
The grief of one, with all the greeks prevails:  
Eubotan Aulis held a thousand sails.  
The long-expected winds opposed stand,  
Or sleep in calms. When cruel Fates command  
Afflicted Agamemnon to assuage  
With Ighigenia's death, Diana's rage.  
But he dissents; the Gods themselves reproves:  
And in a king a father's passion moves.  
His a noble disposition ne'er the less  
I to the public won: and must confess  
(Atr●des, pardon;) we did prosecute  
Before a partial judge a hateful suit.  
Yet him his brother, sceptre, public good  
Persuade to purchase endless praise with blood.  
Then went I to the mother for her child:  
Now not to be exhorted, but beguiled.  
Had A●ax thither gone, our flagging sails  
Not yet had swelled with still-expected gales.  
Then on a bold embassage I was sent  
To haughty Troy: to th' Ilian Court I went,  
Ye● f●ll of men: and fearless, urged at large  
The common cause committed to my charge.  
Fall Paris I accuse: rapt Helena  
〈◊〉- demand, with all they bore away.  
Old praam and Antenor just appear.  
〈◊〉 Paris, with his brethren, and who were  
His ●ollowers in that stealth, from wicked blows  
〈…〉. This Meneläus Knows.  
〈…〉 dangers wherein you and ay  
〈…〉▪ But what my policy  
And force performed, behooveful to this State,  
In that long war, too long is to relate.  
The first great battle fought, our weary foes  
Long live immured: nor durst their powers expose.  
Nine years expired, wars all the fields affright.  
Meanwhile what didst thou, only fit to fight?  
What use of thee? Inquire my actions; I  
The foe entrap, our trenches fortify,  
Encouraging the wea●y Soldier  
To brook the tediousness of lingering war  
With fair expectance: teach them ways to feed,  
And arts to fight. Employed at every need.  
The king deal ded in his sleep by jove,  
Bids us the care of future war remove.  
The author was his strong apology.  
Ajax should have withstood; the sack of Troy  
He should have urged; and, what he could, have fought.  
Why was the nobler siege by him unsought?  
Why armed he not? a speech he might have made,  
That would the wavering multitude have stayed:  
To h●m not difficult, who looks so high,  
And speaks so big. What, if himself did fly?  
I saw, and shamed to see thee turn thy back  
I●o ho●se thy sails unto thy honour's wrack.  
What do you? o what madness, mates, said I,  
Provokes you to abandon yielding Troy?  
Ten years nigh spent, what will you bear away  
But infamy? I this, and more did say;  
Wherein my sorrow made me eloquent:  
And from the flying Fleet turned their consent.  
The King a Council calls; distusts afford  
No sound advice: durst A●ax speak a word?  
When base Thersites durst the King provoke  
With bitter words: Who felt my seepters stroke.  
Their doubts with hope of conquest I Inspire:  
And set their fainting courages on fire.  
Since when, what he hath nobly done, by right:  
To me belongs, that thus revoked his flight.  
Besides, what one of all the wiser Greeks  
Commends thee; or thy conversation seeks?  
Tide des us approves, builds on our will;  
Is confident in his Ulysseses still.  
Among a million 'tis a grace for me  
To be his consort; and the choice so free.  
The danger of the foe, and night despised;  
〈◊〉, than a counter-s●out, surprised:  
Nor slew him, till I forced his bosom to;  
Informed what perfidious Troy would do.  
All known, and nothing left to be enquired;  
I now with praise enough might have retired.  
Yet n●t so satisfied, I forward went;  
And R●●sus slew, with his, in his own Tent.  
When like a Victor, on his Chariot I  
Returned in triumph. Can you then deny  
Achelles arms, whose horses were assigned  
For one night's hazard? Aiax is more kind.  
What should I of Sar pedons forces tell,  
O'erthrown by us? by us caranes fell,  
〈◊〉, Alastor, Chromius,  
Al●ander, Prytanis, Ne nonus,  
Haliu●, stout 〈◊〉, bold Pheridamas,  
With Char●pe: ●un●mon's fatal Pass  
〈◊〉 by my lan●e: and many more in view  
Of h●stile 〈◊〉, of meaner rank, I slew.  
And I, o Countrymen, have honoured wounds,  
Fair in their scars: nor trust to empty sounds;  
Behold (said he, with that his bosom bears)  
This breast, still exercised in your affairs.  
No drop of blo●d in all these lengthfull wars  
For Greece hath Aiax shed: show he his scars.  
What boots it, though his deeds his brags approve;  
That for our fleet he fought with Troy and jove?  
I grant he did so: nor will we detract  
With hated envy from a noble act.  
So he engross not to himself alone  
A common praise, but render us our own.  
Actorides (for great Achilles held)  
Troy's flames and Fautor from our ships repelled.  
He thinks, he only able, could alone  
Encounter Hector's opposition:  
The King, his brother, and myself forgot  
Of nine the last, and but preferred by lot.  
But what event, o great in valour, crowned  
Your doughty combat? Hector had no wound.  
Woe's me! With what a tide of grief I Call  
That time to mind; wherein the Grecian Wall,  
Achilles fell! tears, fears, nor sorrow stayed  
My forward zeal; his raised corpse I laid  
Upon these shoulders: these, even these did ●eare  
Him and his arms; which now I hope to wear.  
Our strength sufficient is for such a weight:  
Our knowledge can your bounty explicate.  
Was Thetis so ambitious for her Son;  
That such a brainless Soldier should put on  
This heavenly gift, of so divine a frame?  
Whose figured shield his ignorance would shame.  
Wherein, the Ocean; Earth with cities crowned,  
Skies with their stars; cold Arctos never drowned,  
Sword-gi●t Orion, sad Pleiades;  
The rain●e kids. He seeks, yet knows not, these  
Upbraids he me, that I this war did shun,  
And time deferred till others had begun?  
Nor can consider how he wounds in me  
Achilles' honour. If a crime it be  
To counterfeit; we join in that defame:  
If, in that tardy; I before him came.  
Me, my kind wife; his mother him withdrew:  
Out flow●e to them we gave; the fruit to you.  
No● fear I, should I quit my own defence,  
To su●●er with so clear an Excellence.  
Not A●ax wit revealed Ulysses; yet  
Revealed Achilles was Ulysses wit.  
Lest I should wonder, why h●s foolish tongue  
Should slander me, he you upbraids with wrong.  
Was guiltless Palamed accused by me  
To my desame? nor must his sentence be  
To you reproachful? neither Nauplius Seed  
Could justify so evident a deed:  
No● did your ●ares inform your faculties;  
The h●●e of treason laid before your eyes.  
Plaintiff's in Levinos left, was none  
Of my offence; do you defend your own:  
You to his stay consented. Yet, how●e●e,  
I must confess I advised him to forbear  
The ●●auels o● long war: and to appease  
The anguish his bitter wound with ease.  
He did▪ he lives. Th●aduice was good: success  
As fortunate approves it ●or noless.  
Since Fate designs him for the fall of Troy:  
Spare me, and Aiax industry employ.  
His tongue the mad with wrath and anguish will  
Appease: he'll fetch him with some reach of skill.  
First Simois shall retire, Id● want a shade,  
Achaia promise to the Troyans' aid;  
ere my endeavours in your service fail,  
And sottish Aiax, with his wit, prevail.  
And, Phil●ct●tes, though obdure thou be,  
Incensed against the King, these Lords, and me;  
Though curses lighten from thy lips, though still  
Thou coue● my access, my blood to spill;  
Yet ●●le attempt thee: and will bring thee back;  
That neither may his ●ager wishes lack.  
Thy shafts I must possess (so Favour Fate)  
As I possessed the Dardan Prophet late;  
As I unknit the Trojan destiny,  
And doubtful answer of the Gods; as I,  
Amid a world of foes, the fatal Sign  
Of Phrygian Pallas ravished from her shrine.  
Compare with me will Aiax? this untane,  
Troy's hopt-for expugnation had been vain.  
Where was strong Aiax? Where the glorious boast  
Of that great Soldier? Why in terror lost?  
How durst Ulysses trust himself to night,  
Pass through the watch, their threatening weapons slight?  
The walls not only, but the highest tower  
Of Ilium scale: and from her Fane the Powre  
That bears their fate enforce: and with this prey,  
Repasse the dangers of that horrid way?  
Which had not ● achieved, Yet in Field  
Had Aiax vainly borne his sevenfold Shield.  
That night Troy fell before La●rtes son:  
Won, when I made it that it might be won.  
Forbear to mutter; nor with nodding gaze  
On Diomedes: he shares in equal praise.  
Nor for our Navy didst thou fight alone:  
Thou by ●n host assisted, I by one.  
He knew that wisdom valour should command;  
That this belonged not to a strenuous hand:  
Else he himself had joined in our debate;  
Or th'other Aiax, fa● more moderate;  
Bra●e Thoa●, fierce Eurypylus; with these  
Idomen●us and Meri●nes  
Of Crect; or 〈◊〉 For they are  
As strong, nor second unto thee in war▪  
Yet yield to ●ui advice. Thou, fit for fight,  
Dost need my reason to direct thy might.  
Thy valour wants forecast, my studious care  
Respects the future: thou canst sighed thy share;  
The time and place must be by us assigned▪  
Thou only strong in body; I ●m mind.  
As skilful Pilots those surpass, who row;  
As wise Commanders, common soldiers; so  
I thee excel. Our virtue is less great  
In brawn than brain: this vigorously complete.  
Then o remunerate my vigilance:  
And, ●●●nces, for so many years expense  
In anxious ●ares, this dignity extend  
To ●y deserts. Our work is at an end:  
With-standing fates removed: I, in that I  
Have made it feasible, have taken Troy.  
Now by our mutual hopes, Troy's overthrow,  
Those Gods which late I ravished from the foe;  
If ought remain to be discreetly done,  
That courage craves, through danger to be won;  
If in the Ilian destiny there be  
A knot yet to unkit; remember me.  
Or if you can forget; these Arms resign  
To this: and shows Minerua's fatal Sign.  
The Chiefs were moved. Here words approved their charms:  
The Eloquent the Valiant now disarms.  
He who alone, jove, Hector, sword and fi●e  
So oft sustained; yields to one brunt of ire.  
Th'unconquered, sorrow conquers. Then his blade  
In haste unsheaths: Sure thou art mine, he said;  
Or seeks Ulysses this? this shall conclude  
All sense of wrong. And thee, so oft imbrued  
In Phrygian blood, thy Lord's must now imbrue:  
That none but Aiax, Aiax may subdue.  
This said; his breast, till then with wounds vngored,  
The deadly sword, where it could enter, bored.  
Nor could his strength the fixed steel revel;  
Expelled by gushing gore. The blood that fell,  
A purple flower engendered on the ground:  
Created first by Hyacinthus wound.  
The tender leaves indifferent letters paint;  
Both of His name, and of the God's complaint.  
The Conqueror, now hoising sails, doth stand  
For chaste Hypsiphiles, and Thoas land;  
(Defamed by women's vengeful violence)  
To fetch the shafts of Hercules from thence.  
These, with their owner, to the compe conuaid,  
On that long war a final hand they laid.  
Now Troy and Priamus together fall.  
Th'unhappy wife of Priam after all,  
Her humane figure lost: who●e raving Spirit  
And uncouth howl foreign fields affright.  
The flames of Ilium stretch their hungry fire  
To narrow Hellespont; nor there expire.  
That little blood which Priam's age could shed,  
Ioues a●tar drinks. By her anointed head  
Apollo's Priest they drag, her hands in vain  
To heaven upheld. The Victor Greeks constrain  
The Dardan Dames; a deadly-hating prey:  
Who imbra●e their country Gods; and while they may,  
Behold their burning Fanes. Di●e violence  
Astana● threw from that tower; from whence  
He had seen his father, by his mother shown,  
Fight for his Kingdom's safety, and his own.  
North-winds to seas invite, and prosperous gales  
Sing in their shrouds: they haste to trim their sails.  
The Trojan Ladies cry, Dear soil farewell!  
We are haled to loathed captivity! thenfell  
On kissed earth: and leave with much delay,  
Their countries smoking ruins. Hecuba  
Her sad departure to the last defers:  
Now found among her children's sepulchres,  
(A sight of ●uth!) spread on their tombs: there wails;  
Their cold bones kissing: whom Ulysses hales  
From that sad comfort. Some of Hector's dust,  
Up snatched, delivers to her bosom's trust.  
Upon his tomb she left her hoary hairs  
(A po●●e oblation!) mingled with her tears.  
Opposed to Ilium's ruins lies a land,  
Tilled by the Bistones, in the Command  
Of Polmn●stor▪ Danger to prevent,  
To him his father Polydorus sent.  
And wisely; had he not withal consigned  
A mass of gold, to tempt his greedy mind.  
His foster-child, when lingering Ilium drew  
To her last date, the Thracian Tyrant slew.  
Whom, as if he his murder with the slain  
Could cast away, he casts into the main.  
Now rod Atrides at the Thracian shore;  
Till winds forbore to storm, and seas to roar.  
When from they yawning earth Achilles' rose;  
Like mighty as in life: whose looks disclose  
As stern a wrath, as when his lawless blade  
Was on Atrides drawn; and frowning, said:  
You Greeks, of me unmindful; can you thus  
From hence depart? shall our deserts with us  
Lodge in oblivion? Prove not so ingrate.  
With slain Polixena regratulate  
Our Sepulchre: 'tis she I covet most:  
A sacrifice, that will appease our Ghost.  
Then vanished. They th'ungentle Spirit obeyed;  
And from her Mother's bosom drew the Maid,  
(High-sould, unhappy, more than feminine,)  
To his resembled tomb; with li●e to sign  
Infernal Dues. Of her high birth she thought:  
And now unto the bloody altar brought;  
Seeing the sacrifice for her prepared,  
And the Neoptolemus upon her stared  
With sword advanced; she said, untouched with dread:  
Our generous blood to your intentions shed:  
Dispatch; I am ready; in my throat or breast  
Your weapon sheath. (With that, withdrew her vest▪  
Polyxena doth servitude despise:  
And yet no God affects such sacrifice.  
I only wish my death might be unknown  
To my afflicted mother. She alone  
Disturbs the joys of death: though Priam's wife  
My death should less bewail, than her own life.  
Nor let the touch of man pollute a maid:  
That my free soul may to the Stygian shade  
Untainted pass. If this be just, remove  
Your hand: I shall more acceptable prove  
Unto that God or Ghost, what ere he be  
To whom I am offered, if my blood be free.  
And if a dying tongue prevail at all;  
I, late great Priam's daughter, now a thrall,  
Solicit that my corpse may not be sold;  
But given my mother: nor exchange for gold  
Sad rites of sepulture. In former years  
She had gold to give, now poor, accept her tears.  
This having said; for her that would not weep,  
The people wept: the Priest could hardly keep  
His eyes from tears; Yet did what he abhorred;  
And in her proffered bosom thrust his sword.  
On doubling knees she sinks, with silent breath;  
And cheerfully encounters smild-on Death.  
Then when she fell, she had a care to hide  
What should be hid; and chastly-decent died.  
Her corpses was carried by the Trojan dames:  
Who in a funeral long repeat the names  
Of Pri●●s mourn'd-for Seed; what streams of gore  
One House had spent. Thee, Virgin, they deplore:  
And thee, O royal Wife, entitled late  
The mother Queen, and glory of that State:  
A Captive now, cast by a scorned lot  
On victor Ithachas; refused, if not  
For bearing Hector. Hector, so renowned,  
A master hardly for his mother found.  
She hug's the corpse that such a spirit kept.  
Who for her country, children, husband, wept  
●o oft; now weeps for her: her lips compressed,  
Her wounds h●s with her tears. Then beats her breast:  
Her hoary hair besmeared with clotted gore,  
And bosom torn, this spoke she; and much more.  
Poor daughter, our last sorrow: (what is left  
For Fortune's spite!) by bloody death bereft.  
On thee I see my wounds. That none of mine  
May woundless die, these wounds thy bosom sign.  
In that a woman, thee I held secured:  
But thou, a woman, sufferest by the sword.  
This Bane of Troy, our Deprivation, who  
So many of thy princely brothers slew;  
Hath slain thee also. When his life was laid  
●y Paris and Apollo's shafts, I said,  
Now is Achilles to be feared no more.  
Now dead, to us as dreadful as before.  
Against my race his ashes raves: his tomb  
Presents a foe. O my unhappy womb!  
T'his siny fruitful! Ruined Troy descends;  
And sad success the public sorrow ends:  
Yet they are ended. ●lium alone  
●o us remains: our sorrows freshly groan:  
●erst so potent and so fortunate  
〈◊〉 husbands, sons, and height of humane State;  
〈◊〉 exile now am haled: despised, and torn  
〈◊〉 my own sepulchres: from Phrygia borne  
〈◊〉 serve Penelope; that while I sew  
〈◊〉 spin at her commandment, she may show  
Her slave to Ithacensian dames, and say,  
Lo Hector's mother, Priam's Hecuba.  
My sorrows sole relief, so many lost,  
Is offered to appease an hostile Ghost.  
Infernal sacrifices to the dead,  
Even to my foe, my cursed womb hath bred.  
Hard heart, why break'st thou not? What hopes engage  
Thy expectation? Mischienous Old-age,  
For what reseru'st thou me? You cruel Powers,  
Why lengthen you a poor old woman's hours  
To see new funerals? O Priam, I  
May call thee happy, after ruined Troy.  
Happy in death. Thou seest not this sad fate:  
Thou lost thy life together with thy state.  
Rich funerals attend thee, royal Maid:  
And by thy Ancestors thou shalt be laid.  
O no! thy mother's tears, a heap of sand,  
Must now content thee in a foreign land.  
All, all is lost! Yet lives a little Boy  
My last, and youngest joy, when I could joy;  
For whom I condescend to lieu a space;  
Here fostered by the courteous King of Thrace.  
Mean while why stay we with the cleansing flood  
To wash these wounds, and looks besmeared with blood?  
Then with an aged pace, her hoary hairs  
All t●ne and scattered, to the Sea repairs.  
And while the wretched said; You Troades,  
A pitcher being to draw the brinish Seas:  
She saw th' ejected corpse of Polydore  
Stuck full of wounds upon the beachie shore.  
The Lady's shriek; the dumb with sorrow stood:  
Internal grief her voice, her tears, her blood,  
At once deuouted. And now, as if entranced  
Stairs on the earth; sometimes to Heaven advanced  
Her stalling brows: oft on his visage gazed;  
But oftener on his wounds. By anger raised,  
Armed, and instructed; all on vengeance bend,  
Still Queenlike, destinates his punishment.  
And as a Lioness, robbed of her young,  
Pursues the unseene-hunters steps: so stung  
With fury, when her sorrow with her rage,  
Had joined their powers; unmindful of her age,  
But not of former greatness, ran with speed  
To Polymnestor, author of this deed.  
And craving conference, the Tyrant told  
How she would show him sums of hidden gold  
To give her Polydor. This held for true;  
He thusty of his prey, with her withdrew.  
And flattering her thus craftily begun:  
Delay not, Hecuba, t'enrich thy son:  
By all the Gods we justly will restore  
What thou shalt give, and what thou gav'st before.  
She with a truculent aspect beheld  
The falsely swearing King: with anger swelled.  
Then calls the captive dames, upon him flies;  
Who hides her fingers in his perjured eyes,  
Extracts his eyeballs: more than usual strong  
With thirsty vengeance and the sense of wrong,  
Her hand drowns in his skull; the roots uptore  
Of this lost sight, imbrued with guilty gore.  
The men of Thrace incensed for their King,  
Weapons and stones at Hecuba now fling.  
She, gnarling, bites the followed flints: her chaps,  
For speech extended, bark. Of whose mishaps  
That place is named. She, mindful of her old  
Misfortunes, in Sithonian deserts howld.  
Kind Troyans', Grecian foes, both love and hate;  
Yea, all the Gods commiserate her fate.  
So all, as juno did to this descend;  
That Hecuba deserved not such an end.  
Auro●a had no leisure to lament  
(Although those arms she favoured) the event  
Of Troy or Hecuba. Domestical  
And nearer grief, affilicts her for the fall  
Of Memnon who Achi●es launce imbrued  
In Phrygian fields. This as the Goddess viewed,  
The rosy die, that decked the Morn's uprise  
Grew forth with pale, and clouds immured the skies.  
Nor could endure to see his body laid  
On funeral flames: but with her hair displayed,  
As in that season, to high Io●● repairs;  
And kneeling, thus with tears, unfolds her cares.  
To all inferior, whom the sky sustains  
(For mortals rarely honour me with Fanes)  
A Goddess yet, I come: not to desire  
Shines, Festivals, nor Altars fraught with fire;  
Yet should you weigh what I, a woman do,  
That Night confine, and sacred Day renew,  
I meant such: such suit not now our state;  
Nor such desires infect the desolate.  
Of Memnon robbed who glorious arms in vain  
Ba●● to● his uncle, by Ac●●lles slain  
In slow●● of youth (so would you Gods) come I.  
O chief of powers, a mother's sorrow, by  
Some honour given him, lessen: death with fame  
Recomfort jove assents. When greedy flame  
Devoured the funeral Pile; and curling fumes  
Day overcast: as when bright Sol assumes  
From streams thick vapours, nor is seen below.  
The flying, dying sparkles jointly grow  
Into one body. Colour, form, life, spring  
To it from fire, which levity doth wing.  
First like a Fowl, forthwith a Fowl indeed:  
Innumerable sisters of that breed  
Together whisk their feathers. Thrice they round  
The funeral Pile; thrice raise a mournful sound.  
In two battalions then divide their flight;  
And like two strenuous nations fiercely fight:  
Their opposites with beak and talons rend;  
Cuffe with their wings; in sacrifice descend.  
Now dying on the ashes of the dead:  
Remembering they were of the valiant bred.  
These new-sprung Fowl, men of their author call  
Memnonides No sooner Sol through all  
The Signs returns; but they rejoin again  
In civil war, and dye upon the flame.  
While others therefore do commiserate  
Poo●e barking Hecuba in her changed fate:  
Aurora her own grief intends; renews  
Her pious tears, which fall on earth in dews.  
Yet fates resist, that all the hopes of Troy  
Should perish with her towers. The Son and joy  
Of Cythere●, with his household Gods,  
And aged Sire, his pious shoulders loads.  
Of so great wealth he only chose that prize,  
And his Ascanius: from Au●and●as flies  
By seas, and shuns the wicked Thracian shore,  
Defiled with blood of murdered Polyde●:  
With prosperous winds arriving with his train  
At Phoebus' town, where Anius then did reign,  
Apollo's holy Priest; who, with the rest,  
Into the Temple leads his honoured Guest:  
The City, with the sacred places, shows;  
And ●ees held by Latona in her throws.  
In●ense on flames, and wine on incense poured;  
Entra●les of slaughtered beefs by fire devoured;  
His Guests conducts to Court: on carpet spread,  
With Ceres and Lyaeus' bounty fed.  
When thus Anch●ses: o to Phoebus' dear!  
I am deceived; or, when I first was here,  
Four daughters and a son thy solace crowned.  
He shook his head, with sacred fillets bound;  
And sighing said: o most renowned of men,  
I was the father of five children then:  
Whom now (such is the change of things!) you see  
Half childless: for my absent son to me  
I● of small comfort; who, my Viceroy, reigns  
I●sea-girt Andros, which his name retains.  
Him, Delius with prophetic skill inspired.  
A gift past credit, still to be admired,  
My daughters Bac●has gave; above their suit  
That all they touched should presently transmute  
To wine, to come, and to Minerua's oil.  
Rich in the use. To purchase such a spoil,  
Great Troy's Depopulator, Atreus Heir,  
(Lest you should think we have not borne a share  
In your mis-haps) with axmed violence  
Enforced them from me: charged to dispense  
That heavenly gift unto th' Argolian Hoft.  
They scape by flight: two to Euboea crossed;  
Two fled to Andros: these the Soldier  
Pursued, and threaten (if vnrendered) war.  
Fear nature now subdued: hid sisters were  
By him resigned; forgive a brother's fear.  
Not Hector nor Aeneas then were by  
To guard his town, who so long guarded Troy.  
About to bind their captive arms in bands;  
Reating to heaven their yet unchained hands,  
O father Bacchus help! While thus they prayed,  
The Author of that gift presents his aid.  
(If such a loss may be accounted so)  
Yet how they lost their shapes I could not know;  
Not yet can tell. Itself the sequel proves;  
Converted to thy Wives white-feathered Doves.  
With such discourse they entertain the feast:  
That one away, dispose themselves to rest.  
With day they rose; the Oracle exquire:  
Who bids them to their ancient Nurse retire,  
And kindred ● shores. With them the King convents,  
And their departure with rich gifts presents.  
A s●epter to Anchises gives: a brave  
Rich cloak, a quiver t' Ascanius gave:  
A figured goblet on Aeneas pressed;  
By Theban The●ses sent him, once his Guest.  
Mylcan Alcon made what Therses sent;  
And carved thereon this ample argument.  
A City with seven gates of equal grace;  
These painly character the name and place.  
Before it, exequys, tombs, piles, bright fires.  
Dames with spread hair, bare breasts, and torn at●res,  
Decipher mourning: Nymphs appear to weep  
For their dry Springs: sap-fearing cankers creep  
On naked trees: Goats lick the foodless earth.  
In midst of Theb●s, Orion's female birth  
Undaunted stand: This proffers to the sword  
Her manly breast; her hands her death afford,  
For common safety. All the people mourn;  
And with due funerals their bodies burn.  
Y●t lest the world should such a lineage lose,  
Two youths out of their virgin ashes rose.  
The●e Orphan's wand'ring Fame Coronae calls:  
Who celebrate them mothers funerals.  
The antic brass with fulgent figures shined:  
Whose b●im neat wreaths of guilt Acamhus bind.  
Nor were the Trojan gifts of less expense:  
Who gave a Censor for sweet frankincense,  
An ample Chalice of a curious mould;  
With these a crown, that shone with gems and gold.  
In that the Tu●rans sprung from Teu●ers blood,  
They sail to Crect: but jove their stay withstood.  
I ●auing those hundred Cities, now they stand  
For wished Ausonia's destinated strand.  
Tossed by rough Winter and the wrath of seas,  
They anchor at the faith loss Stroph●des.  
Thence frighted by Aello; sail away  
By steep Dulichium, stony Ithaca,  
Samus high Neritus clasped by the Main;  
All sub●ect to the sly Ulysses' reign.  
Then 〈◊〉 Ambracia touch, the strife and grudge  
Of angr● Gods; the image of the judge  
Behold, them converted into stone:  
Now to A●iacan Apollo known.  
Then the ●odoncan vocal Oak they view;  
Chaonia, 〈◊〉 Mol●ssus children flew  
With aidful feathers from the impious flame;  
Next to Phaeacia, rich in hort-yards, came;  
Then to Epirus: at Buthrotos stayed,  
Whose sceptre now the Phrygian Prophet swayed;  
And see resembled Troy. foretell of all  
By Priam's Helenus, that would befall,  
They reach Sicania. This three tongues extends  
Into circumfluent Seas. Pachynus bends  
To showrie Auster; flowery Z●phyr blows  
On Lilybaeums brows; Pelorus shows  
His Cliffs to Boreas, and the Sea expelled  
Arcturus. Under this their course they held  
With stretching oars; and favoured by the tide,  
That night in Z●ncle's crooked harbour ride.  
The rightside dangerous S●ylla, turbulent  
Charybdis keeps the left; on ruin bend.  
She belches swallowed ships from her profound:  
Her sable womb, dogs ever ravening, round;  
Yet bears a Virgin's face: if all be true  
That Poets sing, she was a Virgin too.  
By many sought, as many she despised:  
To Nymphs of seas, of sea-nymphs highly prized,  
She bears her vizet●; and to them discovers  
The history of her deluded lovers.  
To whom thus Galatea, sighing, said;  
While Scylla combed her hair. You, lovely Maid,  
Are loved of generous-minded men, whom you  
With safety may refuse, as now you do.  
But I, great Nereus and blue Doris Seed,  
Great in so many sisters of that breed;  
By shunning of the Cyclops love provoked  
A sad revenge. Here tears her utterance choked.  
These cleansed by the marble-fingered maid;  
Who, having comforted the Goddess, said:  
Relate, ● most adored, nor from me keep  
The wretched cause that makes a Goddess weep;  
For I am faithful. Nereis consents,  
And thus her grief to Cratis daughter vents.  
The Nymph Siwethis bore a lovely Boy  
To Faunus, Acis called; to them a joy;  
To 〈◊〉 a greater. For the sweetly-Faire  
To me an innocent affection bare.  
His blooming youth twice told eight Natals crown,  
And sign his cheeks with scarce appearing down.  
As I the gentle boy, so Polypheme  
My love pursued; unlike, a like extreme.  
Whether my love to Acis, or my hate  
To him were more, I hardly can relate.  
Both infinite! o Venas, what a power  
Hath thy command! He still austere and sour,  
A terror to the woods, from whom no guest  
With life escapes, accustomed to feast  
On humane flesh; who all the Gods above,  
With them Olympus scorned; now stoops to love.  
Forgetful of his flocks and caves, a fire  
Feeds in his breast, converts into desire.  
His feature now intends, now bends his care  
To please: with rakes he combs his stubborn hair▪  
His bristles barbes with seithes: and by the brook's  
Vnsolid mirror calms his dreadful looks:  
His thi●● of blood, and love of slaughter cease;  
Less cruel now: ships come and go in peace.  
When Te●●●us came from Sicilian Seas,  
Augurious● clemus Eury●●ides,  
And said to Polypheme, thy brows large sight  
Shall by Ulysses be deprived of light.  
O fool, he laughing said, thou tell'st a lie;  
A female hath already stolen that eye;  
Thus flouts the Prophet's true prediction:  
And with extended paces stalks upon  
The burdened shore; or weary, from the wave-  
Bet beach retireth to his gloomy cave,  
A promontory thrusts into the main;  
Whose cliffy sides the breaking Seas restrain:  
The Cyclops this ascends: whose fleecy flock  
Vnforced follow. Seated on a rock;  
His staff, a well-grown Pine, before him cast,  
Sufficient for a yard-supporting mast;  
He blows his hundred reeds: whose squeaking fills  
The far-resounding Seas, and echoing hills.  
Hid in a hollow rock, and laid along  
By Acis side, I heard him sing this song.  
O Galatea, more than lily-white,  
More fresh than flowery meads, than glass more bright,  
Higher than Alder-trees, than kids more blithe,  
Smother than shells whereon the surges drive,  
More wished than winter's Sun, or Summer's air,  
More sweet than grapes, than apples far more rare,  
Clearer than Ice, more seemly than tall Planes,  
Softer than tender curds, or down of Swans,  
More fair, if fixed, than Gardens by the fall  
Of springs enchased. Though thus, thou art withal  
More fierce than savage bulls, who know no yoke,  
Then waves more giddy, harder than the oak,  
Than vines or willow twigs more easily bend,  
More stiff than rocks, than streams more violent,  
Prouder than Peacocks praised, more rash than fire,  
Than Bears more cruel, shall per than the brier,  
Deafer than Seas, more fell than t●●d-on Snake;  
And, if I could, what I would from thee take,  
More speedy than the Hound-persued Hind,  
Or chased clouds, or than the flying wind.  
If known to thee, thou wouldst thy flight repent;  
Curse thy delay, and labour my content.  
For I have Caves within the living stone;  
To Summer's heat, and Winter's cold unknown:  
Trees charged with Apples, spreading Vines that hold  
A purple grape, and grapes resembling gold.  
For thee I these preserve, affected Maid.  
Thou Strawberries shalt gather in the shade,  
Autumnal cornels, plums with azure rined,  
And wax-like yellow, of a generous kind;  
Nor shalt thou Chestnuts want, if mine thou be,  
Nor scalded wildings: served by every tree.  
These flocks are ours: in valleys many stray,  
Woods many shade, at home as many stay.  
N●● can I, should you ask, their number tell:  
Who number theirs, are poor. How these excel,  
Believe not me, but credit your own eyes:  
See how their Udders part their straddling thighs.  
I●m my sheep-coats have new-weaned lambs;  
And frisking kids late taken from their dams.  
New milk, fresh curds and cream, with cheese well pressed,  
Are never wanting for thy palates feast▪  
Nor will we gifts for thy delight prepare  
Of easy purchase, or what are not rare:  
Deer, red and tallow, Roes, lightfooted hares,  
Nests, seared from cliffs, and doves produced by pairs.  
A rugged Bears rough twins I found upon  
The mountains late, scarce from each other known,  
For thee to play with: finding these, I said,  
My Mistress you shall serve. Come lovely Maid,  
Come Galatea, from the surges rise,  
Bright as the Morning; nor our gifts despise.  
I know myself; my image in the brook  
I lately saw, and therein pleasure took.  
Behold how great! not jupiter above  
(For much you talk I know not of what jove)  
Is larged sized: curls on my brows displayed,  
Affright; and like a grove my shoulders shade.  
Nor let it your esteem of me impair,  
That all my body bristles with thick hair.  
Trees without leaves, and horses without manes,  
Are sights unseemly: grass adorns the planes,  
Wool sheep, and feathers fowl. A manly face  
A beard becomes: the skin rough bristles grace.  
Amid my forehead shines one only light;  
Round, like a mighty Shield, and clear of sight.  
The Sun all objects sees beneath the sky:  
And yet behold, the Sun hath but one eye.  
Besides your Seas obey my father's throne:  
I give you him for yours. Do you alone  
Vouchsafe me pity, and your suppliant hair:  
To you I only bow; you only fear.  
Heaven, jupiter his lightning I despise:  
More dread the lightning 〈◊〉 angry eyes.  
And yet your scorn my patience less would move,  
Were all contemned. Why should you Acis love,  
And slight the Cyclops? why to him more free?  
Although himself he please; and pleaseth thee,  
The shore a meadow bounds; whereof one side  
Is fringed with weeds, the other with the tide.  
On this nor horned cattle ever fed,  
Nor harmless sheep, nor goats on mountains bred.  
No bees from hence their thighs with honey lad;  
Those flowers no genial garlands ever made:  
That grass ne'er cut with scythes. Of mortals I  
First thither came; my nets hung up to dry.  
While I exposed the fishes which I took;  
By their credulity hung on my hook,  
Or mashed in nets; (what would a lie behoove?  
Yet such it seems) my prey began to move,  
Display their sins, and swim as on the flood.  
While I neglect their stay, and wondering stood;  
They all by flight avoiding my command,  
Together left their owner and the land.  
Amazed, and doubting long; the cause I sought,  
If either God, or Herb, this wonder wrought.  
What herb, said I, hath such a power? in haste  
An herb I pulled, and gave it to my taste.  
No sooner swallowed, but my entrailes shook:  
When forth with I another nature took.  
Nor could refrain; but said, O Earth, my last  
Farewell receive! in seas myself I cast.  
The Sea-gods now vouchsafing my receipt  
Into their sacred fellowship, entreat  
Both Tethys and Oceanus, that they  
Would take, what ever mortal was, away.  
Whom now they hollow, and with charms nine times  
Repeated, purge me from my humane crimes:  
And ●ade me ●●uch beneath a hundred streams.  
Forthwith the rivers rushed from sundry Realms;  
And sea-raised surges roll above my crown.  
As soon as streams retire, and seas were down,  
Another body, and another mind;  
Unlike the former, they to me assigned.  
Thus much of Wonder I remember well:  
Thenceforth insensible of what befell.  
Then first of all this seagreen beard I saw,  
These dangling locks, which through the deep I draw;  
Broad shoulderblades, blue arms of greater might;  
And thighs which in a fishes tail unite.  
What boots this form? my grace with Gods of seas?  
Or that a God? If thou affect not these?  
While this he spoke, and would have uttered more,  
Coy Scylla flies. He with impatience bore  
His love's repulse: whom strong desires transport  
To great Titanian Circe's horrid Court.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The Fourteenth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Enchanted Scylla, hemmed with horrid shapes,  
Becomes a Rock, Cercopeans turned to Apes.  
Sibylla wears t'a Voice. Ulysses' 〈◊〉  
Transformed to Swine, are retransformed again  
Picus a Bird: his Followers. Beasts. Despair.  
Resolves sad-singing Canens into Aire  
The Mates of Diomedes unreconciled  
Idalia turns to Fowl. An Olius willed  
Rude Apulus deciphers. Turn us 〈◊〉  
Aeneas ships: these Berecynthia turns  
To Sea-nymphs; who Alcinôus Ship wish joy  
Behold a Rock. The Trojan flames destroy  
Besieged Ardea; from whose ashes springs  
A meager Herne, that bears them on her wings.  
Aeneas, Deised. Vertumnus tries  
All shapes. Rhamnusia; for her 〈◊〉,  
Congeals proud Anaxaiete to Stone.  
Cold Fountains boele with heat. T' a heavenly thr●▪  
Mars Romulus assumes. Herfilia  
Like grace receives: who joint in equal 〈◊〉.  
NOw Glaucus, throned in tumid floods, had past  
High Aetna, on the jaws of Typh●● cast;  
Cyclopian fields, where never oxen drew  
The furrowing plough, nor ever tillage knew;  
Crooked Zancle; Rhegi●m on the other side;  
The wrackful straits, whose double bounds divide  
Sicilia from A●sonia: forward drives  
Through spacious Tyrrhen Seas; at length arrives  
At hearbie Hills, Phoebean Circe's seat,  
With sundry forms of monstrous beasts replete.  
When, mutually saluting, Glaucus said:  
A God, o Goddess, pity: on your aid  
Alone relies (if my desert might move  
So dear a grace) th'assuagement of my Love..  
For none than I, Titania, better knows  
The power of herbs, that am transformed by those.  
T' inform you better, in Italia  
Against Messenia, on a sandy Bay,  
I Scylla saw: it shames me to recite  
My slighted court ship answered by her flight.  
Do thou, if charms avail, in charms untie  
Thy sacred tongue: or sovereign Herbs apply,  
If of more power. Yet I affect no cure,  
Nor end of Love: like heat let her endure.  
But Circe (none to such desires more prone,  
Or that the cause is in herself alone;  
Or stung by Venus angry influence,  
In that her Father published her offence)  
Replied: The willing with more ease pursue;  
Who wish the same, whom equal flames subdue.  
For thou o well desern'st to be pursued:  
Give hope, and, credit me, thou shalt be wooed,  
Rest therefore of thy beauty confident:  
Lo, ay, a Goddess, radiant Sols descent,  
In herbs so potent, and no less in charms;  
Proffer myself, and pleasures to thy arms.  
Scorn her that scorns thee; her, that seeks, pursue:  
And in one deed revenge thyself of two.  
Glaucus' replied to her who sought him so:  
First shady groves shall on the billows grow,  
And Seaweeds to the mountain tops remove;  
Ere I (and Scylla living) change my love.  
The Goddess frets: who since she neither could  
Destroy a Deity, nor, loving, would;  
On her, preferred before her, bends her ire:  
And high-incensed with repulsed desire,  
Forthwith infectious drugs of dire effects  
Together grinds; and Hecate's charms iniects:  
A sullen robe endues, the Court forsakes  
Through throngs of fawning beasts: her journey takes  
To Rhegium opposite to Zancle's shore;  
And treads the troubled waves that loudly roar.  
Running with unwet feet on that Profound;  
As if sh'had trod upon the solid ground.  
A little Bay, by Scylla haunted, lies  
Bend like a bow; sconst from the Seas and skies  
Distemper, when the high-pitcht Sun invades  
The World with hottest beams, and shortens shades.  
This with portenteous poisons she pollutes;  
Be sprinkled with the juice of wicked roots:  
In words dark and ambiguous, nine-times thrice  
Enchantments mutters with her magic voice.  
Now Scylla came; and, wading to the waste,  
Beheld her hips with barking dogs embraced.  
Stars back: at first not thinking that they were  
Part of herself; but rates them, and doth fear  
Their threatening jaws: but those, from whom she flies,  
She with her hales. Then looking for her thighs,  
Her legs, and feet; in stead of them she found  
The mouths of Cerberus; environed round  
With ravening Curs: the backs of savage beasts  
Support her groin; whereon her belly rests.  
Kind Glaucus wept; and Circe's bed refused:  
Who had so cruelly her Art abused.  
But Scylla still remaining, Cir●● hates;  
Who for that cause destroyed Ulysses' mates.  
And had the Trojan navy drowned of late,  
If not before transformed by powerful Fate  
Into a Rock: the stony Prodigy  
Yet eminent, from which the Seamen fly.  
This, and Charybdis passed with stretching oars;  
The Trojan fleet, now near th' Ausonian shores,  
Cross winds, and violent, to Libya drove.  
There, in her heart, and palace, Dido gave  
Aeneas harbour: with impatience bears  
Her husband's flight: forthwith a Pile she rearos,  
Pretending sacrifice; and then doth fall  
Upon his sword: deceived, deceiving all.  
Flying from Carthage, Eryx he regained;  
There where his faithful friend Acestes reigned▪  
His father's funerals resolemnized,  
He puts to Sea, with ships well-nigh surprised  
By Iris flames. Hippotade's Command,  
The sulphur-fuming Isles, the rocky Strand  
Of Acheloian Sirens leaving, lost  
His Pilot: to Inarime then crossed,  
To Prochyta, and Pithecusa, walled  
With barten hills; so of her people called.  
For jupiter, detesting much the sly  
And fraudulent Cercopeans perjury,  
Into deformed beasts transformed them then;  
Although unlike, appearing like to men:  
Contracts their limbs, their noses from their brows  
He flats, their faces with old wrinkles ploughs;  
And, covering them with yellow hair, affords  
This dwelling, first depriving them of words,  
So much abused to perjury and wrongs:  
Who iabber, and complain with stammering tongues.  
Then on the right-hand left Parthenope,  
Misenus on the left, far-stretcht in Sea,  
So named of his Trumpeter: thence, passed  
By slimy Marshes, and anchor cast  
At Cuma; entering long-lived Sibyls caves.  
A passage through obscure Avernus craves  
TO his Father's Manes. She erects her eyes,  
Long fixed on earth, and with the Deities  
Reception ●ill'd, in sacred rage replied.  
Great things thou seekest, o thou so magnified  
For mighty deeds: thy piety through flame,  
Thy arm through Armies consecreate thy name.  
Yet fear not, Trojan, thy desires enjoy:  
THE Elysian Fields, th'infernal Monarchy,  
And Father's Shade, I will thy person guide:  
No way to noble Virtue is denied.  
Then to a Golden bough directs his view,  
Which in Auernian Juno's Hort-yard grew:  
And bade him pull it from the sacred tree.  
Aeneas her obeys: and now doth see  
The Spoils of dreadful Hell; his Grandsires', lost  
In death, and great Anchises aged Ghost.  
Is by his bounty: that the Cyc●ops fowl  
And hungry maw had not devoured my Soul:  
That now I may be buried when I die;  
Or at the least, not in his entrailes lie.  
O what a heart had I! with fear bereft  
Of soul and sense! when I behind was left,  
And saw your flight! I had an Outcry made,  
But that afeard to have myself betrayed.  
Yours, almost had Ulysses' ship destroyed.  
I saw him ●iue out of the mountain's side  
A solid rock, and dart it on the Main:  
I saw the furious Giant once again,  
When mighty stones with monstrous strength he ●lung:  
Like quarries by a warlike engine slung.  
Left ship should sink with waves and stones I fear:  
Not then remembering, that I was not there.  
He, when your flight had rescued you from death,  
O●e Aetna paces; sighing clouds of breath:  
And groping in the woods, bereft of sight,  
Encounters rustling rocks: mad with despite  
Extends his bloody arms to under waves,  
The greeks pursues with curses; and thus raves.  
O would some God Ulysses would engage,  
Or some of his, to my insatiate rage!  
I●d gnaw his heart, his living members rend,  
G●lpe down his blood till it again ascend,  
And cra●●● his panting sinews. O, how light  
A loss, or none, were then my loss of sight!  
This spoke, and more. My joints pale horror shook,  
To see his 〈◊〉, and slaughter-smeared look,  
His bloody hands, his eyes deserted seat,  
Vast limbs, and beard with humane gore concreat.  
Death stood before mine eyes (my least dismay:)  
Now thought myself surprised; now, that I lay,  
Sou'st in his paunch. That time presents my view,  
When two of ours on dashing stones he threw:  
Then on them like a shagged Lion lies;  
Their entrails, flesh, yet moving arteries,  
White marrow, with crasht bones, at once devours.  
ay, sad, and bloodless stood: fear chilled my powers,  
Seeing him eat, and cast the horrid food;  
Raw lumps of flesh, wine mixed with clotted blood.  
Even such a fate my wretched thoughts propound.  
Long lying hid, afraid of every sound,  
Abhorring death, yet covering to die;  
With mast, and herbs repelling famine; I,  
Alone, forlorn, to death and torment left,  
This ship espied: this by my gestures waif,  
Tranne to shore, nor safety vainly seek:  
A Trojan vessel entertained a Greek.  
Now, worthy friend, your own adventures tell;  
And what, since first you put to sea, befell.  
He told how Aeolus reigned in Thus●an Seas,  
Storme-fettering Aeolus Hippotades,  
Who nobly gave to their Dulichian Guide  
A wind, enclosed in an ox's hide.  
Nine days they sailed with successful gales;  
Sought shores descried: the tenth had blanched their sails;  
When greedy Sailors, thinking to have found  
A mass of envied gold, the wind vnbound.  
This through rough seas the Navy backward drives,  
Which at the Aeolian port again arrives.  
To Lestrigonian Lamus ancient town  
From thence, said he, we came. That country's crown  
Prosfering th'insidious Cup, her magic wand  
About to raise, he thrusts her from her stand;  
And with drawn sword the trembling Goddess frights.  
When vowed faith with her fair hand she plights;  
And graced him with her nuptial bed: who then  
Demands in dowry his transfigured men.  
Sprinkled with bitter juice, her wand reversed  
Above our crowns, and charms with charmers disperse;  
The more she chants, we grow the more upright,  
Our bristles shed, our cloven feet unite,  
Shoulders and arms possess their former grace.  
With tears our weeping General we embrace,  
And hang about his neck: nor scarce a word  
Breathes through our lips, but such as thanks afford.  
From hence our pass was for a year deferred;  
In that long time much saw I, and much heard:  
Of which, a Maid (one of the four, prepared  
For sacred service) closely this declared.  
For while my Chief with Circe spots alone,  
She showed a youthful Image of white stone  
Closed in a Shrine, with crowns embellished;  
Who bore a Wood-pecker upon his head.  
Demanding whose it was, why placed there,  
Why he that Bird upon his summit bare?  
I will, replied she, o Macareus, tell  
In this my Mist●is power: observe me well.  
Saturnian Picus in Ausonia reigned,  
Who generous horses for the battle trained.  
His form, such as you see: whom had you known,  
You would have ta'en this feature for his own.  
His mind as beautiful. Nor yet could he  
Four● Grecian wrestlings in th' Olympics see  
The Dryads, in Latian mountains borne,  
His looks attract: nor Nymphs of fountains seor●e  
To sue for pity. Those whom Albul●,  
Nu●nicus, Anio, Alm● short of way,  
And heady: N●r sustain, the shady Flood  
Of Farfarus, the Scythian Cynthi●s wooed▪  
Environed marshes, and neighbouring lakes.  
Yet for one only Nymph the rest forsakes:  
Who whilom on Mount P●latine, the fair  
Venilia to the twofaced janus' bare.  
The Maid, now marriageable, honoured  
Laurentian Picus with her nuptial bed.  
Her beauty admirable: yet more famed  
For artful song; and thereof Canens named.  
Her voice the woods and rocks to passion moves;  
Tames savage beasts, the troubled Rivers smooths,  
Detains their hasty course; and, when she sings,  
The birds neglect the labour of their wings.  
While her sweet voice celestial music yields;  
Young Picus follows in Laurentian Fields  
The savage Boar, upon a fiery Steed;  
Armed with two darts: clad in a Tyrian weed  
With gold close-buckled. Thither also came  
The daughter of the Sun; who left her name.  
Retaining fields, and on those fruitful hills  
Her sacred lap with dewy Simples fills.  
Seeing unseen, his sight her sense amazed:  
The gathered herbs fell from her as she gazed:  
Whose bones a marrow-melting flame enclosed.  
But when she her distraction had composed;  
About t'impart her wish, attendanc●e,  
And swiftness of his horse, access deny.  
Thou shalt not so escape, said she, altho'  
The winds should wing thee; if myself I know,  
If herbs retain their power, if charms at least  
My trust deceive not. Then creates a Beast  
Without a body, bid to run before  
The King's pursuit; and made the airy Boar  
To take a thicket, where no horse could force  
His barred access. He leaves his foaming horse  
On foot to follow a deceitful Shade,  
With equal hopes? And through the forest strayed.  
New Vows she strait conceiveth, aid implores:  
And Gods unknown with unknown charms adores.  
Wherewith inur'd t' eclipse the palefaced Moon:  
And cloud her Father's splendour at high Noon.  
And now with pitchy fogs obscures the Day,  
From earth exhaled. His Guard mistake their way  
In that deceitful Night, and from his strayed.  
When she, the time and place befitting said:  
By those fair eyes, which have enthralled mine;  
And by that all alluring face of thine,  
Which makes a Goddess sue; assuage the fire  
●y thee incensed; and take unto thy Sire  
The all-illuminating Sun: nor prove  
Hardhearted to Titanian Circe's love.  
Her, and her prayers, despised; What ere thou art,  
I am not thine, said he: my captive heart  
Another holds; and may she hold it long.  
Nor will I with external Venus wrong  
Our nuptial faith, so long as Fate shall give  
Life to my veins, and ●a●us daughter live.  
Tita●ia, tempting oft, as oft in vain;  
Thou shalt not scape my vengeance, nor again  
Return to Canens. What the wronged can do,  
A wronged Lover, and a Woman too;  
Thou shalt said she, by sad experience prove?  
For I a woman, wronged and wronged in love.  
Twice turns she to the East, twice to the West;  
Thrice touched him with her wand, three charms expressed.  
He flies; at his unwonted speed admired;  
Then saw the feathers which his skin attired:  
Who forthwith seeks the woods; and angry still,  
Hard oaks assails, and wounds them with high, bill.  
His wings the purple of his cloak assume;  
The gold that clasped his garment turns to plume,  
And now his neck with golden circle chains:  
Of Picus nothing but his name remains.  
The Courtiers Picus call, and seek him round  
About the fields, that was not to be found.  
Yet Circe find (for now the day grew fair,  
The Sun and Winds set free to cleanse the air)  
And charge her with true crimes: their King demand  
With threatening looks, and weapons in their hand.  
She sprinkles them with juice of wicked might.  
From Erebus and Chaos conjures Night,  
With all her Gods; and Hecate entreats  
With tedious mumblings. Woods forsake their seats,  
Trees pale their leaves, Herbs blush with drops of gore,  
Earth groans, dogs howl, rocks horcely seem to roar:  
Upon the tainted ground black Serpents slide;  
And through the air unbodied Spirits allied.  
Frighted with terrors, as they trembling stand,  
She strokes their wondering faces with her wand:  
Forthwith the shapes of savage beasts invest  
Their former forms; not one his own possessed.  
Ph●ebus now entering the Tartessian Maine,  
Sad Caneus with her eyes and soul, in vain  
Expects her Spouse. Her servants she excites  
To run about the woods with blazing lights.  
Who not content to weep, to tear her hair,  
And beat her breasts (though those present her care)  
In haste forsakes her roof; and frantic, strays  
Through broadspred fields. Six nights, as many days,  
Without or sleep, of sustenance, she fled  
O'er hills and dales, the way which fortune led.  
Now tired with grief and travel, Tiber last  
Beheld the Nymph: on his cool banks she cast  
Her feeble limbs: there weeps, and weeping sung  
Her sorrows with a softly warbling tongue.  
Even so the dying Swan with low-raised breath,  
Sings her own exequys before her death.  
At length her marrow melts with grief's despair:  
And by degrees she vanisheth to Air.  
Yet still the place doth memorise her same:  
Which of the Nymph the Rural Ca●ens name.  
In that long year, much, and such deeds as these  
I saw and heard. Vn-nerued with resty ease,  
Again we put to Sea: by Circe told  
Of our hard passage, and the manifold  
Disasters to ensue, I grew afraid  
(I must confess) and here arriving, stayed.  
Macareus ends. Cateta Vr●e-inclos'd,  
This verse had on her marble tomb imposed.  
Here, with due fites, my pious Nurse-child me  
Caieta burned; from Grecian fires set free,  
They lose their cables from the grassy strand;  
Avoiding Cir●●s guileful palace, stand  
For those tall groves, where Tiber, dark with shades,  
In Tyrrhen Seas his sandy streams unlades.  
The throne of Faunus' son, the Latian star  
Lavini gain; but not without a war.  
War with a furious Nation is commenced;  
Stern Turnus for his promised wife incensed:  
While all Hetruria to Latium swarms:  
Hard victory long sought with pensive arms.  
To get Recrutes from foreign States they try.  
Nor trojans, nor Rutulians' want supply.  
Nor to Euanders' town Aenea●s went  
In vain: though vainly Venulus was sent  
To banished Di●meds City, late immured:  
Those fields japygian Daunus had insured  
To him in dowry. When Venulus had done  
His embassy to Tydeus warlike son:  
The Prince excused his aid; as loath to draw  
The subjects of his aged father in law  
T'vnnecessary war: that none remain  
Of his to arm. Left you should think I fain;  
Though repetition Sorrow renovat'st;  
Yet, while I suffers hear the worst of fa●es.  
After that Pergamus our prey became,  
And lofty Ilium fed the Grecian flame:  
A Virgin, for a Virgin's rape, let fall  
Her Vengeance, to Oileus due, on all.  
Scattered on faithless Seas with furious storms,  
We, wretched Grecians, suffered all the forms  
Of horror: lightning, night, showers, wrath of skies,  
Of Seas, and dire Capharean cruelties.  
To abridge the story of so sad a fate;  
Now Priam would have pitied our estate.  
Yet Pallas snatched me from the swallowing Main;  
Then from my ungrateful Country chased again.  
For Venus, mindful of her ancient wound,  
New woes inflicts. Much on the vast profound,  
Much suffering in terrestrial conflicts, I  
Oft called them happy, whom the injury  
Of public tempests, and importunate  
Capharcus drowned: and now envied their fate.  
The worst endured; with seas and battles tired,  
My men an end of their long toil desired.  
But A●mon, full of fire, and fiercer made  
By usual slaughters: What remains (he said)  
O mates, which now our patience would eschew?  
Though willing, what can Cytherea do  
More than sh'hath done? when worse mishaps affright,  
Then prayers avail: but when Misfortunes spite  
Her worst inflicts, than fear is of no use:  
And height of ills, security produce.  
Let Venus hear: although she hate us all,  
As all she hates that serve our General)  
Yet let us all despise her empty hate;  
Whose Powre hath made us so unfortunate.  
Pl●uronion A●man angry Venus stung:  
Revenge reviving with his lavish tongue.  
Few like his words the most severely chid  
His tongue's excess. About to have replied,  
His speech, and path of speech, at once grew small,  
His hair converts to plume; plumes cover all  
His neck, back, bosom: larger feathers spring  
From his rough arms, and now his elbows wing.  
His feet divide to toes, hard horn extends  
From his changed face, and in a bill descends.  
Rhetenor, Nycteus, Lycus, Abas, Ide,  
Admire! and in their admiration tried  
Like destiny. Most of my Soldiers grew  
Forthwith new Fowl; and round about us flew.  
If you inquire, what shape their own unmans';  
They are not, yet are like to silver Swans.  
These barren fields, with this poor remnant, I,  
As son in law to Daunus, scarce enjoy.  
Thus far Oenides, Venulus forsakes  
Tydides' Kingdom: by Puteoli takes  
His way, and through Mesapia: there surveyed  
A Cave, environed with a sylvan shade,  
Distilling streams. By halfe-goat Pan possessed:  
Which erst the Wood-nymphs with their beauties blest.  
They terrified at first with sudden dread,  
From home bred Apulus, the shepherd, fled.  
Strait, taking heart, despised his pursuit:  
And danced with a measure-keeping foot.  
He scoffs: their motion clowne-like imitates:  
Nor only raileth, but obscenely prates.  
Nor ceaseth, till a tree invests his throat;  
A tree whose berries his behaviour note:  
An olive wild, which bitter fruit affords,  
Becomes; dis-seasned with his bitter words.  
Th'ambassador returns without the sought  
Aetolian succours: the Rutulians' fought  
'Gainst foes and fortune; of that hope deprived:  
Whole srteames of blood from mutual wounds derived.  
Lo, firebrands to the Navy Turnus bears:  
And what escaped drowning, burning fears.  
Pitch, resin, and like ready food for fire,  
Now Valcan feed: the hungry flames aspire  
Up to the sails along the lofty mast;  
And catch the yards, with curling smoke embraced.  
But when the Mother of the Gods beheld  
Those blazing Pines, from top of Ida field;  
Loud shawms and Cymbals ushered her repair:  
Who, drawn by bridled Lions through the air,  
Thus said: Thy wicked hands to small effect,  
O Turnus violate, what we protect.  
Nor shall the greedy fire a part of those  
Tall Woods devour, which shelter our repose.  
With that she thunders, pouring down amain  
Thick storms of skipping hail, and clouds of rain.  
Th' Astr●an Sons in swift concursions join;  
Tossing the troubled air, and Neptune's brine.  
One she employs, whose speed the rest outstrips;  
That broke the Cables of the Phrygian Ships,  
And d●aue them under the highswelling Flood.  
The timber softens, flesh proceeds from wood,  
The crooked Stern to heads and faces grows,  
The Oars to swimming legs, fine feet and toes;  
What were their holds, to ribbed sides are grown,  
The lengthfull keel presenting the backbone;  
The yards to arms, to hair the tackling grew:  
As formerly, so now, their colour blue.  
And they, but lately of the floods afraid;  
Now in the floods, with virgin pastime, played.  
These Sea-nymphs, borne on mountains, celebrate  
The Seas, forgetful of their former state.  
Yet weighing, what themselves so oft endured  
On high-wrought waves, oft sinking ships secured;  
Ex●●, ●span; as Glacians ca●●y: those  
They hate, memorious of the Trojan woes.  
Who saw Ulysses' ships in surges quelled  
With pleased eyes, with pleased eyes beheld  
Alcinous ship, in swiftness next to none,  
Vnmoveable; the wood transformed to stone.  
'Twas thought this wondrous prodigy would fright  
The Rutuli, and make them ceasoe from fight.  
Both parts persist, both have their Gods to friend;  
And Valour no less potent: nor contend  
Now for Lavinia, for Latinus crown,  
Nor dot all Kingdom; but for fair renown:  
Ashamed to lay their bruised arms aside,  
Till death or conquest had the quarrel tried.  
Venus' her son victorious sees at length.  
Great Turnus fell; strong Ardea falls, of strength  
While Turnus stood, decoured by barbarous flame,  
In dying cinders buried. From the same  
A Fowl, unknown to former ages, springs;  
And fans the ashes with her hover wings.  
Pale colour, leanness, shrieking sounds of woe,  
The image of a captive City show.  
Who also still the City's name retains:  
And with selfe-beating wings of Fate complains.  
And now Aeneas virtues terminate  
The wrath of Gods, and Juno's ancient hate.  
An opulent foundation having laid  
For young juius, by his merit made  
Now fit for Heaven: the Powre, who rules in Love  
The God's solicits; then, embracing jove:  
O Father, never yet to me unkind;  
Now o enlarge the bounty of thy mind.  
A Godhead, mean, so it a Godhead be,  
Aeneas give; that art to him by me.  
A Grandfather: th'un-amiable realms  
Suffice it once t'have seen, and Stygian streams.  
The Gods agree; nor Juno's looks descent.  
Who with a cheerful freeness forward bend.  
Then jove; He well deserves a Deity:  
Thy suit, fair Daughter, to thy wish enjoy.  
She, joyful, thanks return: and through the air,  
Dawne by he●yoaked Dones, lights on the bare  
L●u engman shoots; where smooth Numicius creeps  
Through whispering reeds into the neighbour Deeps.  
Who 〈◊〉 him from Aeneas wash away  
All unto death obnoxious, and convey  
It silently to Seas. The horned Flood  
O eyes; and what subsists by mortal food,  
With water pu●g'd, and only left behind  
His better parts. His mother they refined  
Anoints with sacred odours, and his lips  
In Nectar, mingled with Ambrosia, dips;  
So deified: whom Ind●ges Rome calls;  
Honoured with altars, shrines, and sestivalls.  
Two-named Ascan●us Latium than obeyed,  
And Alba: next, the sceptre Silvius swayed.  
His son Latinus, held that ancient name,  
And crown. Him Epitus, renowned by Fame,  
Succeed. Then Capys. Capetus, his Son  
Succeeded him. Next Tiberine begun  
His ●●●gne: who, drowned in Tuscan waters; gave  
Those streams his name: who Remulus got, and brave▪  
Sold Acrota. But Remulus was slain  
With thunder; who the Thunderer durst fain.  
More moderate Acrota resigned his throne  
To 〈◊〉: upon the Mount whereon  
He reigned, entombed; which yet his name retains.  
Over the Palatines next Procas reigns.  
Pomona flourished in those times of case:  
Of all the Latian Hamadryades,  
None fruitful Hort-yards held in more repute;  
Or took more care to propagate their fruit.  
Thereof so named. Nor streams, nor shady groves,  
But trees producing generous burdens loves.  
Her hand a hook, and not a iavelin bare:  
Now prunes luxurious twigs, and boughs the dare  
Transcend their bounds: now slits that bark, the bud  
Inserts; enforced to nurse an others b●ood.  
Nor suffers them to suffer thirst, but brings  
To moisture-sucking roots, soft-sliding Springs.  
Such her delight, her care. No thoughts extend  
To love's unknown desires: yet to defend  
Herself from rapeful Rurals, round about  
Her Hort-yard walls; t'avoid, and keep them out.  
What left the skipping Satyrs vn-assaied:  
Rude Pan, whose horns Pine-bristled garlands shade;  
Silenus, still more youthful than his years;  
Or he who thieves with hook, and member fears,  
To taste her sweetness? but far more than all  
Vertumnus loves; yet were his hopes as small.  
How often, like a painful Reaper, came,  
Laden with weighty sheaves; and seemed the same!  
Oft wreathes of new mowed grass his brows array;  
As though then exercised in making hay.  
A good now in his hardened hands he bears,  
And newly seems to have unyoked his Stee●es.  
Oft Vines and fruit-trees with a pruning hook  
Corrects, and dresses; oft a lather took  
To gather fruit: now with this crooked skein  
A Soldier seems; an Angler with his cane:  
And various figures daily multiplies  
To win access, and please his longing eyes.  
Now, with a staff, an old-wife counterfeits;  
On holy ha●e, a painted mitre sets.  
The Ho●t yard entering, admires the fair  
And pleasant fruits: So much, said he, more rare  
Than all the Nymphs whom Albula enjoy,  
Ha●le spotless flower of Maiden chastity:  
And kissed the praised. Nor did the Virgin know,  
(So innocent) that old wives kissed not so.  
Then, sitting on a bank, observeth how  
The pregnant boughs with Autums burden bow.  
Hard by, an Elm with purple clusters shined:  
This praising, with the Vine so closely joined;  
Yet, said he, if this Elm should grow alone,  
Except for shade, it would be prized by none:  
And so this Vine, in amorous foldings wound,  
If but disjoined would creep upon the ground.  
Yet art not thou by such examples led:  
But shun'st the pleasures of a happy bed.  
Nor would thou wouldst: net Helen was so sought,  
Nor the for whom the lustful Centaurs fought,  
As thou shouldst be; no nor the wife of bold.  
And t●morous Ulysses. Yet, behold  
Though thou averse to all, and all eschew;  
A thousand men, Gods, de●●-gods, pursue  
Thy constant scorn; and every deathless Powre  
Which Alha's high and shady hills imbowre.  
Put thou, it wise, 〈◊〉 thou'lt well married be;  
Or an old woman trust, who credit me,  
Affects thee more than all the rest, refuse  
These common wooers, and Vertumnus choose.  
Accept me for his gage; since so well none  
Can know him; by himself not better known.  
He is no wanderer, her's his delight:  
Nor loves, like common lovers, at first sight.  
Thou art the first, so thou the last shalt be:  
His life he only dedicates to thee.  
Besides his youth perpetual; excellent  
His beauty; and all shapes can represent.  
Wish what you will, what ever hath a name;  
Such shall you see him. Your delights the same:  
The first-fruits of your Hort-yard are his due;  
Which joyfully he still accepts from you.  
But neither what these pregnant trees produce  
He now desires, no● herbs of pleasant juice:  
Nor ought, but only You. O pity take!  
And what I speak, suppose Vertumnus spoke.  
Revengeful Gods, Id●lia, still severe  
To such as slight her, and Ramnusia fear.  
The more to fright you from so foul a crime,  
Receive (since much I know from aged Time)  
A story, generally through Cyprus known;  
To mollify a heart more hard than stone.  
Ip●●, of humble birth, by chance did view  
The high-born Anaxarete, who drew  
Her blood from T●ucer. Seeing her, his eyes  
Extracts a fire, wherein his bosom f●ies.  
Long struggling, when no reason could reclaim  
Hi fury, to her house the Suppliant came.  
Now to her Nurse his wretched love displayed;  
And by her lostered hopes implored her aid:  
Now humbly sues to some of most repute  
In her affection, to prefer his suit.  
Sad letters of this desperate passions bears:  
Oft myrtle garlands, sprinkled with his tears,  
Hangs on the posts: the stony threshold jades  
With his soft sides, and rigid doors up-braids.  
But she more cruel than the seas, embroiled  
With rising storms; more hard than iron, boiled  
In fire-red furnaces; or rooted rocks;  
Disdains the lover, and his passion mocks:  
Who to her forward deeds adds bitter words  
Of no less scorn, nor hope to love affords.  
Impatient of his torment, and her hate;  
These words, his last, he utters at her gate.  
O Anaxerete, thou hast o'er come!  
Nor shall my life be longer wearisome  
To thy disdain. Triumph, o too unkind!  
Sing Paeans, and thy brows with laurel bind.  
Thou hast overcome; lo, willingly I die:  
Proceed, and celebrate thy cruel joy  
Yet is there something in me, ne'er the less,  
That thou wilt raispe; and my deserts confess.  
Think how my love my heart no sooner left  
Then life itself: of both at once bereft.  
Nor rumour, but even I will death present  
In such a form, as shall thy pride content.  
But O you Gods, if you our actions fee  
(This only I implore) remember me!  
Let after ages celebrate my name:  
And what you take from life, afford to same.  
Then heaves his meager arms and watery eyes  
To those known posts, oft crowned with wreaths, and ties  
A halter to the top. Such wreathes, he said,  
Best please; hardhearted, and inhuman Maid!  
Then turning toward her, he forward sprung:  
When by the neck th'unhappy lover hung.  
Struck by his sprawling feet, wide open flies  
The sounding wicket; and the deed descries.  
The servant's shriek; the Vainly raised boar  
T'his mother's house; his father dead before.  
His breathless corpse she in her bosom placed;  
And in her arms his keycold limbs embraced.  
Lamenting long, as woeful parents use;  
And having paid a woeful mother's dues;  
The mournful Funeral through the City led;  
And to prepared fires conveys the dead.  
This sorrowful Procession passing by  
Her house, which bordering on the way, their cry  
To th'ears of Anaxarete arrives:  
Whom now stern Nemesis to ruin drives  
we'll see, said she, these sad solemnities:  
And forthwith to the lofty window highes.  
When seeing Iphis on his fatal bed;  
Her eyes grew stiff; blood from her visage fled,  
Usurped by paleness. Striving to retire,  
Her feet stuck fast; nor could to her desire  
Divert her looks: for now her stony heart  
●t self dilated into every part.  
This Salamis yet keeps, to clear your doubt,  
●n Venus' temple; called, the Looker-out.  
Informed by this, o lovely Nymph, decline  
Thy former pride, and to thy lover join.  
So may thy fruits survive the Vernal frost:  
Nor after by the rapeful winds be tossed.  
When this the God, who can all shapes endue,  
Had said in vain; again himself he grew:  
Th'abiliments of heatlesse Age deposed.  
And such himself unto the Nymph disclosed,  
As when the Sun, subduing with his reyes  
The muffling clouds, his golden brow displays.  
Who force prepares: of force there was no need;  
Struck with his beauty, mutually they bleed.  
Unjust Amulius next th' Ausonian State  
I'y strength usurped. The nephews to the late  
Deposed Numi●or, him reinthrone:  
Who Rome, in Pales Feasts, immured with stone.  
Now Tatius leads the Sabine Sires to war.  
Tarp●ia's hands her father's gates unbarre:  
To death with a● melets pressed; her treason's meed.  
The Sabine Sires like silent Wolves proceed  
T'invade their sleeping sons, and seek to seize  
Upon their gates; barred by Iliads.  
One juno opens: though no noise at all  
The hinges made; yet by the bars loud fall  
Descried by Venus: who had put it too;  
But Gods may not, what Gods have done, vndo●.  
Aus●nian Nymphs the places bordering  
To janus held, inchased with a spring.  
Their aid sh'implores. The Nymphs could not deny  
A suit so just, but all their floods untie.  
As yet the Fane of janus open stood:  
Nor was their way impeached by the flood.  
Beneath the fruitful spring they sulphur turn;  
Whose hollow veins with black bitumen burn:  
With these the vapours penetiate below;  
And waters, late as cold as Alpin snow,  
The fire itself in fervor dare provoke:  
Now both the posts with flagrant moisture smoke.  
These now-raised streams the Sabine Powre exclude,  
Till Mars his Soldiers had their arms endued.  
By Romulus then in Battalions led:  
The Roman fields the slaughtered Sabines spread;  
Their own the Romans: Fathers, Sons in law,  
With wicked steel, blood from each other draw.  
At length conclude a peace; nor would contend  
Unto the last. Two Kings one throne ascend  
With equal rule. But noble Tatius slain,  
Both Nations under Romulus remain.  
When Mars laid by his shining cask; and then  
Thus spoke unto the Sire of Gods, and men.  
Now, Father, is the time (since Rome is grown  
To such a greatness, and depends on One)  
To put in act thy never-failing word;  
And Romulus a heavenly throne afford.  
You, in a synod of the Gods, professed  
(Which still I carry in my thankful breast)  
That one of mine (this o now ratify!)  
Should be advanced unto the starry sky.  
jove condescends: with clouds the day benights;  
And with flame-winged thunder earth affrights.  
Mars, at the sign of his assumption,  
Leans on his lance, and strongly vaults upon  
His bloody Chariot; lashes his hot horses  
With sounding whips, and their full speed enforces:  
Who, scouring down the airy region, stayed  
On fair mount Palatine, obscured with shade:  
There Romulus assumeth from his Throne,  
Vn-kinglike rendering justice to his own.  
Rapt through the air, his mortal members waste,  
Like melting Bullets by a Slinger cast:  
More heavenly fair, more fit for lofty shrines;  
Our great and sca●let-clad Quirinus shines.  
Then juno to the sad Hers●lia  
(Lost in her sorrow) by a crooked way  
Sent Iris to deliver this Command.  
Star of the Latian, of the Sabine land;  
Thy sex's glory: worthy than the vow  
Of such a husband, of Quirinus now;  
Suppress thy tears. If thy desire to see  
Thy husband so exceed, then follow me  
Unto those woods, which on mount Querin spring;  
And shade the temple of the Roman King.  
Iris obeys: and by her painted Bow  
Downe-sliding, so much lets Hersilia know.  
When she, scarce lifting up her modest eyes:  
O Goddess (which of all the Deities  
I know not; sure a Goddess) thou clear light,  
Conduct me, o conduct me to the sight  
Of my dear Lord: which when the Fates shall show,  
They heaven on me, with all the gifts, bestow.  
Then, with T●aumantias entering the high  
Romu●a● Hills, a Star shot from the Sky,  
Whose golden beams inflamed Hersilia's hair;  
When both together mount th'enlightened Air.  
The Builder of the Roman City took  
Her in his arms, and forthwith changed her look:  
To whom the name of Ora he assigned.  
This Goddess now is to Quirinus joined.   

OVID'S METAMORPHOSIS. The Fifteenth Book.  
THE ARGUMENT.  
Black Stones con●ert to White. Pythagoras  
In Ilium's lingering war Euphorbus was.  
Of transmigrations, of the change of things,  
and strange effects, the learned Samian sings.  
Recured Hippoly●us 〈◊〉 deicide;  
Whom safer Age, and name of Virbius bids.  
Aegeria thaws into a Spring. From Earth  
Prophetic Tages takes his wondrous birth.  
A Spear a Tree. Gra●● Cippus virtues 〈◊〉  
The ●rowne, his Horues present. Apollo's Son  
Assumes a Serpent's shape. The Soul of War,  
Great Caesar, slain, becomes a Blazing Star.  

Meanwhile, a man is sought that might sustain  
So great a burden, and succeed the reign  
Of such a King: when true-foreshewing Fame  
To Godlike Numa destinates the same.  
He, with his Sabine rites unsatisfied  
To greater things his able mind applied  
In Nature's search. Enticed with these cares,  
He leaves his country's Cures, and repairs  
To Croton's City! asks, what Grecian hand  
Those walls erected on Italian land?  
One of the Natives, not unknowing old,  
Who much had heard and seen, this story told.  
Ioues son, enriched with his Iberian prey,  
Came from the Ocean to Lacinia  
With happy steps: who, while his cattle fed  
Upon the tender clover, entered  
Heroic Croton's roof; a welcome Guest:  
And his long travel recreates with rest.  
Who said, departing; In the following age  
A City here shall stand. A true presage.  
There was one Mycilus, Argolian  
Alemons issue: in thoso times, no man  
More by the Gods affected. He, who bears  
The dreadful Club, to him in sleep appears;  
And said: Begun, thy country's bounds forsake;  
To stony Aesarus thy journey take.  
And threatens vengeance if he disobey.  
The God and Sleep together flew away.  
He, rising, on the Vision meditates:  
Which in his doubtful soul he long debates.  
The God commands; the Law forbids to go:  
Death due to such as left their Country so.  
Clear Sol in seas his radiant forehead veiled,  
Swart Night her brows exalts, with stars impaled;  
The self same God the same command repeats:  
And greater plagues to disobedience threats.  
Afraid, he now prepares to change his own  
For foreign seats. This through the City blown;  
Accused for breach of laws, arraigned and tried;  
They prove the fact, not by himself denied.  
His hands and eyes then lifting to the sky:  
O thou, whom twice Six Labours deify,  
Assist, that art the author of my crime!  
White stones and black they vs in former time;  
The white acquit, the black the pris'nor cast:  
And in such sort this heavy sentence past.  
Black stones all threw into the fatal Urn:  
But all to white, turned out to number, turn.  
Thus by Aleides power the sad Decree  
Was strangely changed, and Mycilus set free.  
Who, thanking Amphitryoniades,  
With a full forewind crossed th' Ionian Seas.  
Lacedaemonian Tarentum passed,  
Fair Sybaris, Neaethus running fast  
By Salentinum, Thurin's crooked Bay,  
High Temesis, and strong japygia:  
Scarce searching all that shores seabeaten bound,  
The fatal mounth of Aesarus out-found.  
A Tomb, hard by, the sacred bones enclosed  
Of famous Croton: here, as erst imposed,  
Alemons son erects his City walls:  
Which of th'entombed he Crotona calls.  
Of this Original, this City boasts:  
Built by a Grecian on Italian coasts.  
Here dwelled a Samian, who at once did fly  
From Samos, Lords, and hated Tyranny:  
Preferring voluntary banishment.  
Though far from Heaven, his mind's divine ascent  
Drew near the Gods: what natures self denies  
To humane Sight, he saw with his Souls eyes.  
All apprehended in his ample breast,  
And studious cares; his knowledge he professed  
To silent and admiring men: who taught  
The World's original, past humane thought:  
What nature was, what God: that cause of things;  
From whence the Snow, fran whence the lightning springs  
Whether jove thunder, or the winds that rake  
The breaking Clouds: what caused the Earth to quake;  
What course the Star●es observed; what ere lay hid  
From vulgar sense: and first of all forbid  
With slaughtered creatures to defile our boards,  
In such, though unbelieved; yet learned Words.  
Forbear yourselves, o Mortals, to pollute  
With wicked food: corn is there; generous fruit  
Oppress their boughs; plump grapes their Vines attire;  
There are sweet herbs, and savoury roots, which fire  
May mollify; milk, honey redolent  
With flowers of Thime, thy palate to content.  
The prodigal Earth abounds with gentle food;  
Affording banquets without death or blood.  
Brute beasts with flesh their ravenous hunger cloy:  
And yet not all; in pastures horses joy;  
So flocks and beards. But those whom Nature hath  
Endued with cruelty, and savage wrath  
(Wolves, Bears, Armenian Tigers, Lions) in  
Hot blood delight. How horrible a Sin,  
That entrailes bleeding entrailes should entomb!  
That greedy flesh, by flesh should fat become!  
While by the Livers death the Living lives!  
Of all, which Earth, our wealthy mother, gives;  
Can nothing please, unless thy teeth thou imbrue  
In wounds, and dire Cyclopean fare renew?  
Nor satiate the wild votacitie  
Of thy rude paunch, except an other die?  
But that old Age, that innocent estate,  
Which we the Golden call; was fortunate  
In herbs, and fruits, her lips with blood vndyed.  
Then Fowl through air their wings in safety plied▪  
The Hare, then fearless, wandered o'er the plain;  
Nor Fish by their credulity were ta'en.  
Not treacherous, nor fearing treachery,  
All lived secure. When he, who did envy  
(What God so ere it was) those harmless cates  
And crammed his guts with flesh; set open the gates  
To cruel Crimes. First, Slaughter without harm  
(I must confess) to Piety, did warm  
(Which might suffice) the reeking steel in blood  
Of savage beasts, which made our lives their food▪  
Though killed; not to be eaten. Sin now more  
Audacious; the first sacrifice, the Boar  
Was thought to merit death; who, bladed corn  
Vprooting left the husbandman forlorn.  
Vine-brouzing Goats at Bacchus' altar slain,  
Fed his revenge: in both, their guilt their bane.  
You Sheep, what ill did you? a gentle beast,  
Whose udders swell with Nectar▪ borne t'invest  
Exposed man with your soft wool; and are  
Alive, then dead, more profitable far.  
Or what the Ox? a creature without guile,  
So innocent, so simple; borne for toil.  
He most ungrateful is, deserving ill  
The gift of corn; that can unyoke, then kill  
His husbandman: that neck with axe to wound  
In service galled, that had the stubborn ground  
So often til'd; so many crops brought in.  
Yet not content there with, 〈◊〉 the sin  
To guiltless Gods: as if the Powers on high  
In death of labour-bearing oxen joy.  
A spotless sacrifice, fair to behold,  
(' I is death to please) with ribbons tricked, and gold,  
Stands at the Altar, hearing prayers unknown:  
And sees the meal upon his forehead thrown,  
●ot by his toil: the knife smeared in his gore,  
By fortune in the lauer seen before.  
The entrailes, from the panting body rend,  
Forthwith they search; to know the God's intent.  
Whence springs so dire an appetite in man  
To interdicted food? O Mortals, can,  
Or da●e you feed on flesh? henceforth forbear  
I you entreat, and to my words give ear:  
When limbs of slaughtered Beefs become your meat;  
Then think, and know, that you your Servants eat.  
Phoebus inspires; his Spirit we obey:  
My Delph●s, heaven itself, I will display:  
The Oracle of that great power unfold:  
And sing what long lay hid; what none of old  
Could apprehend. I long to walk among  
The lofty stars: dull earth despised, I long  
To back the clouds; to sit on Atlas' crown:  
And from that height on erring men look down  
Th●t reason want: those thus to animate  
That fear to die; t'unfold the book of Fate.  
O You, whom horrors of cold death affright;  
Why fear you Styx, vain names, and endless Night;  
The dreams of Poets, and feigned miseries  
Of forged Hell? whether last-flames surprise,  
Or Age devour your bodies; they nor grieve,  
No● suffer pains. Ou● Souls for ever lieu:  
Yet evermore their ancient houses leave  
To lieu in new; which them, as Guests, receive.  
In Trojan wars, I (I remember well)  
Enphorbus was, Panthonus son; and fell  
By Menelaus' lance: my shield again  
At Argos late I saw, in Juno's Fane.  
All alter, nothing finally decays:  
Hither and thither still the Spirit strays;  
Guest to all bodies: out of beasts it flies  
To men, from men to beasts; and never dies.  
As pliant wax each new impression takes;  
Fixed to no form, but still the old for sakes;  
Yet it the same: so Souls the same abide,  
Though various figures there reception hide.  
Then lest thy greedy belly should destroy  
(I prophesy) depressed Piety,  
Forbear t'expulse thy kindred's Ghosts with food  
By deach procured; nor nourish● blood with blood.  
Since on so vast a sea, my sailes vnfurled,  
And-stretcht to rising winds; in all the World  
There's nothing permanent; all ebb and flow:  
Each image formed to wander to and fro.  
Even Time, with restless motion, slides away  
Like living streams: nor can swift Rivers stay,  
Nor light-heeled Hours. As billow billow drives,  
Driven by the following; as the next arrives  
To chase the former: times so fly, pursue  
At once each other; and are ever new.  
What was before, is not; what was not, is:  
All in a moment change from that to this.  
See, how the Night on Light extends her shades▪  
See, how the Light the gloomy Night invades.  
Nor such Heaven's hue, when Midnight crown's Repose;  
As when bright Lucifer his taper shows:  
Yet changing, when the Harbinger of Day  
Th'enlightened World resigns to Phoebus' sway.  
His raised Shield, earth's shadows scarely fled,  
Looks ruddy; and low sinking, looks as red:  
Yet bright at Noon; because that purer sky  
Doth far●e from Earth, and her contagion fly.  
Nor can Night-wandering Diana's wavering light  
Be ever equal, or the same: this night  
Less than the following, if her horns she fill;  
If the contract her Circle, greater still.  
Doth not the image of our age appear  
In the successive quarters of the Year?  
The Springtide, tender; sucking Infancy  
Resembling: then the iuy●efull blade sprouts high;  
Though tender, weak; y●t hope to Ploughmen yields.  
All things then flourish: flowers the gaudy fields  
W●●h colours paint: no virtue yet in leaves.  
Then following Summer greater strength receives:  
A lusty Youth; no age more strength acquires,  
Mo●● fruitful, or more burning in desires.  
Maturer Autumn, heat of Youth alaid,  
The sober means 'twixt youth and age, more stayed  
And temperate, in Summer's wain repairs:  
His reverend temples sprinkled with grey hairs.  
Then comes old Winter, void of all delight,  
With trembling steps: his head or bald, or white.  
So change our bodies without rest or stay:  
What we were yesterday, not what to day,  
Shall be to mor●●w. Once alone of men  
The seeds and hope; the womb our mansion: when  
Kind Nature showed her cunning; not content  
That our vexed bodies should be longer penned  
In mother's stetched entrailes, forthwith bore  
Them from that prison, to the open air.  
We strengthless lie, when first of light possessed;  
Strait creep upon all four, much like a beast;  
Then, staggering with weak nerves, stand by degrees,  
And by some stay support our feeble knees:  
Now, lusty, swiftly run. Youth quickly spent,  
And those our middle times, incontinent  
We sink in setting Age: this last devours  
The former, and dimolisheth their powers.  
Old Milo wept, when he his arms beheld,  
Which late the strongest beast in strength excelled,  
Big, as Al●ides brawns, in flaggie hide  
Now hanging by slake sinews: Helen cried  
When she beheld her wrinkles in her Glass;  
And asks herself, why she twice ravished was.  
Still-eating Time, and thou o envious Age,  
All ruinated: diminished by the rage  
Of your devouring teeth, All that have breath  
Consume, and languish by a lingering death.  
Nor can these Elements stand at a stay:  
But by exchanging alter every day.  
Th'eternal world four bodies comprehends,  
Engendering all. The heavy Earth descends,  
So Water, clogged with weight: two light, aspire,  
Depressed by none; pure Air and purer Fire.  
And though they have their several fites; yet all  
Of these are made, to these again they fall.  
Resolved Earth to Water rarefies;  
To Air extenuated Waters rise;  
The Air, when it itself agiane refines,  
To element all Fire extracted, shines.  
They in like order back again repair:  
The grosser Fire condenseth into Air;  
Aire, into water: Water thickening, then  
Grows solid, and converts to Earth again.  
None holds his own: for Nature ever joys  
In change, and with new forms the old supplies.  
In all the world not any perish quite:  
But only are in various habits dight.  
For; to begin to be, what we before  
Were not, is to be borne; to dye, no more  
Than ceasing to be such: although the frame  
Be changeable, the substance is the same.  
For nothing long continues in one mould.  
You Ages, you to Silver grew from Gold;  
To Brass from Silver; and to Y●'ne from Brass.  
Even place oft such change of fortunes pass;  
Where once was solid land, Seas have I'seene;  
And solid land where once deep Seas have been.  
Sh●ls, far from Seas, like quarries in the ground;  
And anchors have on mountain tops been found,  
Torrents hue made a valley of a plain;  
High hills by del●ges ●o●ne to the Main.  
Deep standing lakes sucked dry by thirsty sand;  
And on late thirsty earth now lakes do stand.  
Here Nature, in her charges manifold,  
Sends forth new fountains; there shuts up the old.  
Streams with impetuous earthquakes, heretofore  
H●ue broken forth; or sunk, and run no more.  
So ●ycus, swallowed by they yawning Earth,  
Takes in an other world his second birth.  
So Erasinus, now conceals, now yields  
His rising waters to Argolian fields.  
And Mysus, hating his first head, and brays,  
Calcus named elsewhere his stream displays.  
Cool Amasenus, watering Sicily,  
Now flows; now spring-lockt, leaves his channel dry.  
Men formerly drunk of Anigrus streams:  
Not to be drunk (if any thing but dreams  
The Poets tell) since Centaurs therein washed  
Their wounded limbs, by Alcides' arrows gashed.  
So Hypa●tis, derived from Scythian Hills,  
Long sweet, with bitter streams his channel fills.  
Antissa, Tyrus, and Egyptian Phare,  
The floods embraced: yet now no Lands are.  
Th'old Colon knew Leucadia Continent:  
Which now the labouring surges circumvent.  
So Zancle once on Italy con●n'd;  
Till interposing waves their bounds disjoined.  
If Bura and Helice (Grecian towns)  
You seek; behold, the Sea their glory drowns:  
Whose buildings, and declined walls, below  
Th'ambitious flood as yet the Sailors show.  
A Hill by Pitthean Troezen mounts, uncrowned  
With sylvan shades, which once was level ground.  
For furious winds (a story to admire!)  
Penned in blind caverns, struggling to expire;  
And vainly seeking to enjoy th'extent  
Of freer air, the prison wanting vent;  
Th'unpassable tough earth inflated so,  
As when with swelling breath we bladders blow,  
The tumour of the place remained still,  
In time grown solid, like a lofty hill.  
To speak a little more of many things  
Both heard and known: New habits sundry Springs  
Now give, now take. Horned Hamm●ns Well at Noon  
Is cold; hot at Sun-rise, and setting Sun.  
Wood, put in bubbling Athamas then fires;  
When farthest from the Sun the Moon retires.  
Ciconian streams congeal his guts to stone  
That thereof drinks: and what therein is thrown.  
Crathis, and Sybaris (from your mountains rolled)  
Colour the hair like Amber, or pure gold.  
Some fountains of a more prodigious kind,  
Not only change the body but the mind.  
Who hath not heard of obscene Salmacis?  
Of th' AeTHiopian Lake? who drink of this,  
Run forthwith mad: or if their wits they keep,  
Fall suddenly into a deadly sleep.  
Who at Clito●i●● Fountain thirst remove;  
Loath wine, and abstinent, mere water love.  
Whether it by antipathy expel  
Desire or wine; or (as the Natives toll)  
〈◊〉 having with his herbs and charms  
Snatched Proe●u● frantic daughters from the harms  
Of entered ●●ries, their wit's physic cast  
Into this spring; infusing such distaste.  
With streams, to these opposed Lyncestus flows:  
They 〈◊〉, as drunk, who drink too much of those.  
A Lake in fair Arcadia stands, of old  
Called Phe●●us; suspected, as two fold:  
Fear, and forbear, to drink thereof by night:  
By night unwholesome, wholesome by daylight.  
So other lakes and streams have other power.  
Ortygia sloted once; fixed at this hour:  
Once Argo feared the justling Cyenes;  
Which rooted now, resist both winds and seas.  
Nor Ae●na, burning with imboweled fire,  
Shall ever, or did always, flames expire.  
For whether Tellus be an Animal,  
Have lungs, and mouths that smoking flames exhale;  
Her organs alter, when her motions close  
These yawning passages▪ and open those.  
Or whether winds, in caves imprisoned, rave;  
justling the stones, and minerals which have  
The seed of fire, enkindled with their rage:  
They then extinguish when the winds assuage.  
Or if Bitumen do the fire provoke;  
Or sulphur burning with more subtle smoke:  
When Earth that food and oily nourishment  
With draws, the matter by long feeding spent;  
The hungry fire of sustenance be●eft,  
Ill-brooking famine, leaves, by being left.  
In Hyperborean Pallene live  
A People, if to Fame we credit give,  
Who, diving three times thrice in Triton's lake,  
Of Fowl the feathers and the figure take.  
The like, they say, the the Scythian Witches do  
With magic oils: incredible though true.  
If we may trust to trial, see you not  
Small creatures of corrupted flesh begot?  
Bury your slaughtered Steere (a thing in use)  
And his corrupted bowels will produce  
Flowre-sucking-Bees; who, like their parent slain,  
Love labour, fields, and toil in hope of gain.  
Hornets from buried horses take their birth.  
Break off the Crabs bend claws, and in the earth  
Bury the rest; a Scorpion without fail  
From thence will creep, and menace with his tail.  
The Caterpillars, who their cobwebs wove  
On tender leaves (as Hinds from proof receive)  
Convert to poisonous Butterflies in time  
Green Frogs, engendered by the seed of slime,  
First without feet, than leg, assume; now strong  
And apt to swim, their hinder parts more long  
Than are their former, framed to skip add jump.  
The Bears deformed birth is but a lump  
Of living flesh: when l●●ked by the Old,  
It takes a form agreeing with the mould.  
Who sees the Young of honie-bearing Bees  
In their sexangular inelosure, sees  
Their bodies limbless: these unformed things  
In time put forth their feet, and after, wings.  
The starre-imbell●sht Fowl, which juno loves,  
jones Armour-bearer, Cytharea's Doves,  
And birds of every kind; did we not know  
Them hatched of eggs, who would conjecture so?  
Some think the pith of dead men, Snakes becomes;  
When their back-bones corrupt in hollow tombs.  
Yet these from others do derive their birth.  
One only Fowl there is in all the Earth,  
Called by th' Assyrian Phoenix, who the wain  
Of age repairs, and s●wes herself again.  
No 〈◊〉 on grain no● he●●s, but on the gum  
O● Frankincense, and mycre Amomum.  
Now, when her life ●iue ages hath fulfilled;  
A neither 〈◊〉 beak and talons build  
Upon the 〈◊〉 of a trembling Palm:  
This strewed with Ca●●ia, Spicknard, precious Balm,  
Bruised Cinnamon, and Myrrh; thereon she bends  
Her body, and her age in odours ends.  
This breeding Corpse a little Phoenix bears:  
Which is itself to live as many years.  
Grown strong; that load now able to transfer;  
Her Cradle, and her parent's sepulchre,  
Devoutly carries to Hyperions town:  
And on his flamie Altar lays it down.  
If these be wonderful, admire like strange  
Hyaena's, who their sex so often change:  
Those foodless creatures, fed by air alone;  
Who every colour, which they touch, put on.  
The Lynx, first brought from conquered India  
By vine bound Bacchus, his hot piss, they say,  
Congeals to stone. So Coral, which below  
The water is a limber weed, doth grow  
Stone-hard, when touched by air. But Day will end,  
And Phoebus' panting Steeds to Seas descend,  
Before my scant oration could pursue  
All sorts of shapes, that change their old for new.  
For this we see in all is general.  
Some Nations gather strength, and others fall.  
Troy, rich and powerful, which so proudly stood;  
That could for ten years spend such streams of blood;  
For buildings, only her old ruins shows;  
For riches, tombs; which slaughtered Sires enclose.  
Sparta, Mycenae, were of Greece the flowers;  
So Cecrop's City, and Amphion's towers;  
Now glorious Sparta lies upon the ground;  
Lofty Mycenae hardly to be found,  
Of OEdipus his Thebes what now remains,  
Or of Pandion's Athens, but their names?  
Now Fame reports that Rome by dardan's Sons  
Begins to rise, where yellow Tiber runs  
From fountfull Apennineses; and there the great  
Foundation of so great a fabric seat.  
This therefore shall by changing propagate,  
And give the World a Head. Of such a fate  
The Prophets have divined. And this of old,  
As I remember, Priam's Helen told  
To sad Aeneas, of all hope forlorn,  
In sinking Troy's eclipse. O Goddesse-borne,  
If our Apollo can presage at all;  
Troy, thou in safety, shall not wholly fall.  
Both fire and sword shall give thy virtue way:  
Flying with thee, thou Ilium shalt convey;  
Until thou find a Land as yet unknown,  
To Troy, and thee, more friendly than thy own.  
A City built by Phrygians I foresee;  
So great none ever was, is, or shall be.  
Others shall make it great: but He, whose birth  
Springs from ●●lus, Sovereign of the Earth.  
He, having ruled the World, shall then ascend  
Aethereal thrones▪ and Heaven shall be his End.  
This, I remember, with prophetic tongue,  
Sage Helen to divine Aeneas sung.  
We joy to see our kindred's City grow:  
The Phrygians happy in their Overthrow.  
But lest our heedless Steeds too far should range  
From their proposed course; All suffer change:  
The heavens themselves, what under them is found;  
We, of the World a part, since we as well  
Have Souls as Bodies, which in beasts may dwell:  
To those, which may our parents Souls invest,  
Our brothers, dearest friends, or men at least;  
Let us both safety, and respect afford:  
Nor heap their bowels on Thyestes board.  
How ill ●ur'd! to shed the blood of man  
How wickedly is he prepared, who can  
Asunder cut the throats of calves; and hears  
The bellowing breeder with relentless eats!  
Or silly kids, which like poor infants cry,  
Stick with his knife! or his voracity  
Feed with the fowl he fed! o to what ill:  
Are they not prone, who are so bend to kill!  
Let Oxen till the ground, and die with age:  
Let Sheep defend thee from the winter's rage:  
Goats bring their udders to thy pail. Away  
With nets, grins, snares, and arts that do betray:  
Deceive not birds with lime; nor Deer enclose  
With terrors; nor thy baits to fish expose.  
The hurtful kill: yet only kill: nor eat  
Defiling flesh; but feed on fitter meat.  
With other, and the like Philosophy  
Instructed; N●●ma, now returned, was by  
Th'entreating Lat●ne● crowned. Taught by his Bride  
The Nymph Aegeria, by the Muse's guide,  
Religion institutes; a People rude  
And prone to war, with laws and peace imbued.  
His reign and age resigned to funeral;  
Plebeians, Roman Danies, Patricians, all  
For Numa mou●ne. His wife the City fled:  
Hid in Aricia's Vale, the ground her bed,  
The woods her shrowded, disturbs with groans and cries  
Orestean Diana's sacrifice.  
How oft the Nymphs who haunt that Grove and Lake  
Reproved her tears, and words of comfort spoke!  
How oft the Thesean Heros, Temperate  
Thy sorrow, said! Nor only is thy fate  
To be deplored: on worse misfortunes look;  
And you will yours with greater patience brook.  
Would mine were no example to appease  
So sad agrieve: yet mine your grief may ease.  
Perhaps y'have heard of one Hippolytus;  
By 〈…〉 fraud, and father's credulous  
Belief deuowed to death. Admire you may  
That I am he, if credit, what I say.  
Whom Phoedra formerly solicited,  
But vainly to do file my father's bed.  
Fearing ●●tection, or in that refu●'d;  
She 〈◊〉 he crime, and me of here's accused.  
My father, ●●nishing the innocent,  
Along with me his winged curses sent.  
Toward Pitt●●●an Troezen me my Chariot bore:  
And d●●●ing now ●y the Corinthian shore,  
The smooth Seas swell; a monstrous billow rose,  
Which, rolling like a mountain, greater grows;  
Then, bellowing, at the top asunder rend●:  
When from the breach, breast high, a Bull ascends;  
Who at his dreadful mouth and nostrils spouts  
Part of the Sea. Fear all my followers routs:  
But my afflicted mind was all this while  
Vnte●rifi'd; intending my exile.  
When the hot horses start, e●ect their ears:  
With horror rapt, and chased by their fears,  
〈◊〉 ragged rocks the tottered Chariot drive:  
While I to curb their fury vainly strive;  
The bits all frotht with foam: with all my might  
Pull back the reigns, now lying bolt upright.  
Nor had their heady fright my strength o'r-gon;  
Had not the fervent wheel, which rolls upon  
The bearing Axletree, rushed on a stump:  
Which broke, and sell asunder with that jump.  
Thrown from my chariot, in the reigns fast-bound,  
My guts dragged out alive, my sinews wound  
About the stump, some of my limbs haled thence  
You might have seen, some hanging in suspense;  
My breaking ●ones to crack, not any whole,  
While I exhaled my faint and weary soul.  
No part of all my parts you could have found  
That might be known: for all was but one wound.  
Now say, selfe-tortred Nymph, or can, or dare  
You your calamities with ours compare?  
I also saw those realms, to Day unknown:  
And bathed my wounds in wavy Phlegeton.  
Had not Apollo's Son employed the aid  
Of his great Art; I with the dead had stayed.  
But when by potent herbs, and Paeans skill,  
I was restored, 'gainst angry Pluto's will:  
Lest I, if seen, might envy have procured,  
Me, friendly Cynthia with a cloud immured:  
And that, though seen, I might be hurt by none;  
She added age, and left my face unknown.  
Whether in Delos, doubting, or in Crect;  
Rejecting Crect and Delos as unmeet,  
She placed me here. Nor would I should retain  
The memory of One by horses slain:  
But said; Hence forward Virb●us be thy name.  
That were't Hippolytus; though thou the same,  
One of the Lesser Gods, here, in this Grove,  
I Cynthia serve; preserved by her love.  
But others miseries could not ab●te  
Aegeria's sorrows, nor prevent her fate.  
Who, couched at the bases of a hill,  
Thaws into tears, that streame-like ran; until  
Apollo's Sister, pitying her woes,  
Turned hert' a Spring; whose current ever flows.  
The Nymphs and Amazonian this amazed;  
No less than when the Tyrrhen Ploughman gazed  
Upon the fatal clod, that moved alone:  
And, for a humane shape, excharged its own.  
With infant lips the newly Animate,  
Revealed the Mysteries of future fate:  
Whom Natives Tages called. He first of all  
Th' 〈◊〉 taught to tell what would be fall.  
Or when astonished Romulus of old  
Did, on Mount Palatine, his lance behold  
To flourish with green leaves: the fixed foot  
Stood not on steel, but on a living root.  
Which, now no weapon, spreading arms displayed;  
And ga●e admirers unexpected shade.  
Or when as Cippus in the liquid glass  
Beheld his horns, which his belief surpass.  
Who lifting oft his fingers to his brow,  
Felt what before he saw: nor longer now  
Condemns his sight. Returned with victory;  
His eyes and horns erecting to the sky:  
You Gods, what ere these prodigies portend;  
If prosperous, he said, let them descend  
On Romans and on Rome: but if they be  
Unfortunate, o let them fall on me!  
An Altar then of living turf erects;  
The fire feeds with perfumes, pure wine iniects:  
And with the panting entrailes of a beast  
New slain, consults; to know the God's behest.  
This, when the Tyrrben Augur had beheld,  
And saw therein endeavours that excelled,  
Although obscure; he from the sacrifice  
To Cippus horns converts his steady eyes:  
Hail King, to thee, and to those horns of thine,  
This place, and Latian towers, their rule resign.  
Delay not; enter thou the yielding gate:  
Haste, Cippus, haste: such is the Will of Fate.  
Thou shalt be crowned a King upon that day:  
And safely an eternal Sceptre sway.  
He, starting back, from Rome diverts his face:  
And said; You Gods, far hence this Omen chase.  
Better that I in banishment grow old;  
Than me, a King, the Capitol behold.  
Hiding his ho●nes with leavy ornaments,  
The people and grave Senate he convents.  
Then mounts a Mound, late by the Soldier made,  
And praying first (as was the custom) said;  
Unless expelled your City, here is One  
Will be your King: though not by name, yet known  
By his strange horns. I heard the Augur say,  
If once in Rome, you all should him obey.  
He might, unstopped, have entered without feat:  
But I withstood; though none to me more near.  
Be he, Quirites, into exile sent:  
Or, if he merit such a punishment,  
Bind him in heavy chains, and keep him sure:  
Or with the Tyrant's death your fears secure.  
The troubled People such a murmuring make;  
As when far off the roaring surges take  
On rattling shores; or when through high-trust Pines  
Loud Eurus howls. One only Voice disjoines  
In this confusion; ask, Which is he?  
All seeking for the horns they could not see,  
Cippus replied; Behold the man you look.  
Then from his head (withheld) his garland took;  
And showed the horns which one his forehead grew.  
Not one but sighed, and down his countenance threw:  
And those clear brows (a thing beyond belief)  
Adorned with merit, they behold with grief.  
Nor suffer him his honour to debase:  
But on his head a laurel garland place.  
And since he his own entrance did withstand:  
The Nobles, in due favour, so much land  
To Cippus gave, as well two oxen might  
Round with a plough from morning until night.  
The Monumental figure of his horns,  
So much admired, the golden Posts adorns.  
Now Muses, Goddesses of Verse, relate  
(You know, nor years your memory abate)  
How Aesculapius in our City found  
A Temple, by circumfluent Tiber bound.  
A deadly plague the Latian air defiled:  
Souls from their seats the pale disease exiled.  
Wearied with funerals, when physic failed;  
Nor any humane industry prevailed;  
They seek celestial aid. To Delphos sent,  
Built in the round Earth's navel, and present  
Their prayers to Phoebus; that he would descend  
To their relief, and give their woes an end.  
His Temple, Laurel, and his Quiver, shake:  
Who thus, they trembling, from his Tripod spoke.  
What here you seek, you nearer should have sought:  
And seek it nearer yet. Apollo ought  
Not now to cure you, but Apollo's Seed.  
Go with success; and fetch my Son with speed.  
The Senate having heard this Oracle,  
The City search, where Phoebus' son should dwell.  
The shore of Epidaure the Legate seeks:  
There anchoring, he entreats th' assembled Greeks  
To send their God: who might th' Ausonian State  
To health restore; and urged the charge of Fate.  
They vary in opinion: some assent  
To send this succour; many, not content  
To lose their own in giving others aid,  
Strive to retain him, and the rest distwade.  
While thus they doubt, the Day declined his Light:  
And Earthborn shadows clothed the world in Night.  
Th' Health-giving God, in sleep, appears to stand  
In his old form; a staff in his left hand:  
And stroking with his right his reverend beard;  
From his hope-rendring breast these words were heard.  
Fear not, I come; my shape I will forsake:  
View, and mark well this staffe-infolding Snake:  
Such will I seem, yet show of greater size;  
So great as may a Deity comprise.  
God with the Voice, with God and Voice away  
Sleep flew: fled Sleep pursued by cheerful Day.  
The Stars now vanquished by the morning's flame;  
The doubtful Nobles to the temple came,  
Entreat him by coelest all signs to show  
Whether he were content to stay or go.  
This hardly said, the God in Serpent's shroud,  
His high crest goldlike glistering, hist aloud.  
His statue, altar, gates, the marble flore,  
And golden roof, shaken at th' approaching Powre.  
He, in his Fane, brest-high his body raised:  
Rolling about his eyes that flame-like blazed.  
All tremble. The chaste Priest, his hair embraid  
With Virgin fillet, knew the God, and said:  
'Tis he! 'tis he! all you who present are  
Pray with your hearts and tongues: o heavenly-faire,  
Propitious prove to those who thee implore!  
All that were there the present Powre adore;  
Reiterating what the Priest had said:  
With heart and tongue the Romans also prayed.  
He, by the motion of his lofty crest,  
And doubled hisses, sign's to their request.  
Then sliding down the polished stairs, his look  
Reverts on his old altars; now forsook:  
Salute's his shrine, and Temple decked with towers.  
Then creeping on the ground, strewed with fresh flowers.  
Indenteth through the City; stopping where  
The Harbour is defended by a Peer.  
The following troops, and those whose zeals assist  
In honouring him, with gentle looks dismissed;  
He climbs th' Ausonian ship: which felt the weight,  
And shrunk with pressure of so great a freight.  
The joyful Romans, offering on the strand  
A Bull to Neptune; anchor weigh, and land  
Forsake with easy gales, Raised on his train,  
He, leaning, looks upon the blew-waued Maine.  
Through Ionian Seas by friendly Z●phyrus borne,  
They fell with Italy on the sixth morn.  
Lacinian junos' Fane, Scyllaean shores,  
japygia past; they shun with nimble oars  
Amphrysian rocks; Ceraunian, weather-cleft;  
Romechium, Caulon, and Naryciae left:  
Sicilian straits overcome, and wrackful seas,  
Sail by the mansion of Hippotades:  
By Temesa, in metals fruitful; by  
Leucosia, and the Paestan Rosary.  
Ne●re capreae, and Minerua's Fore-land row,  
Surrentine hills, where wines so generous grow;  
Heraclea, Stabiae, Naples borne to ease,  
Cumaean Sibyl's Temple: next to these,  
Hot Baths; Linternum, sweet with mastic flowers;  
Vult●rnus, who his sandy channel skoures;  
Sinuessa, swarming with white Snakes; ill-aired  
Minturnae; and where Piety prepared  
His Nurse a tomb: forthwith the mansion make  
Of fell Antiphates; and then the Lake—  
Besieged Trachin: thence directly bore  
To ●wee's Isle, and Antium's solid shore.  
The Sea now swelling high, this harbour holds  
The Saile-winged ship. The God his orbs unfolds:  
And, with huge doublings o'er the yellow sand  
Slides to his father's Temple on that strand.  
Rough waves assuaged, the Epidaurian Guest  
His father's altar leaves; to Seaward pressed,  
Slicing the sandy shore with rustling scales:  
And, by her stern the ship ascending, sails  
Till he to Castrum, to Lauinia's name—  
Retaining Seat, and mouth of Tiber came.  
All hither throng; sons, daughters, mothers, fires,  
The Nuns who keep the Phrygian Vesta's fires,  
The Gods appease: the headless inwards show  
Signs of succeeding Tumults, Death, and Woe.  
Dogs nightly, in the Court, about the Gods,  
And holy Temples howl. From sad abodes  
The Dead arise, and wander here and there:  
Rome trembling, both with Earthquakes and with fear,  
These Warnings of the Gods no changes wrought  
In Fate, or Treason. Murderous swords were brought  
Into the Temple: for no place might sort  
With such a Slaughter, but the sacred Court.  
Then Venus smote her breast: who sought to shroud,  
And snatch him thence in that Aethereal cloud,  
Which Paris from Atrides rage's conuaid:  
And freed Aeneas from Tydid●s blade.  
Daughter, said jove, canst thou resist the doom  
Of conquering Fates? Into their mansion come,  
There shalt thou see Decrees that needs must Pass,  
Writ in huge folds of solid steel and brass.  
Which safe, eternal, ever fixed there;  
My thunder, lightning's rage, nor ruin fear.  
In lasting Adamant there ma●st thou read  
What shall to thy great Progeny succeed.  
I read, remember well, and will relate  
What may inform thee in succeeding fate.  
He, whom thou striu●st to save, his race hath run  
Of Time and Glory: whom, thou and his Son  
Shall make in heaven a God; on Earth, with praire  
And Temples dignified. His names great Heir  
Alone his Load shall bear: and strongly shall  
By our conduct revenge his father's fall.  
By his good fortune Mutinae, overthrow,  
Sha●l ●ue for peace: Pharsalian fields shall groan▪  
Slaughter again Philippi shall imbrue:  
On red Sicilian Seas he shall subdue  
A mighty Name. Th' Egyptian Spouse shall fall,  
Ill trusting to her Roman General:  
To make out stately Capitol obey  
Her proud Canopus, shall in vain assay.  
What need I of those barbarous People tell,  
And Nations, which by either Ocean dwell?  
He shall the habitable Earth command;  
And stretch his Empire over sea and land.  
Peace given to Earth; he shall convert his care  
To civil Rule, just Laws; and by his fair  
Example Virtue guide. Then looking to  
The future times, and Nephews to ensue;  
A Son shall bless him from a holy womb:  
To him he shall resign his name, and room.  
Nor shall, till full of age, ascend th'abodes  
Of heavenly Dwellers, and his kindred Gods.  
Meanwhile from this slain corpse his soul convey  
Up to the stars, and give it a clear Ray:  
That julius may with friendly influence  
Shine on our Capitol and Court from thence.  
This said: invisible fa●●e Venus stood  
Amid the Senate; from his corpse, with blood▪  
Defiled, her Caesar's new-fled spirit bare  
To heaven, not suffered to resolve to air.  
And, as in her soft bosom borne, she might  
Perceive it take a Powre, and gather light.  
When once let loose, It forth with up-ward flew;  
And after it long blazing tresses drew.  
The radiant Star his Sons great acts beheld  
T'out-luster his: and joyed, to be excelled.  
Though he would have his Father's deeds preferred  
Before his own: yet free-tongued Fame, deterred  
By no commandment, yield th'evited Bays  
To his clear brows; and but in this gainsays.  
So Atreus yields to Agamemnon's fame;  
Aegeus so to Theseus: Peleus name  
Stoops to Achilles. That I may confer  
Th'illustrious to their equals, jupiter  
So Saturn tops. Iou● rules the arched Sky,  
And triple-World; th● Earth's vast Monarchy  
TO Augustus' bows: both Fathers, and both sway.  
You Gods, Aeneas mates, who made your way  
Through fire and sword; you Gods of men become;  
Quirinus, Father of triumphant Rome;  
Thou Mars, invincible Quirinus' Sire;  
chaste V●sta, with thy everburning fire,  
Among great Caesar's Household-gods enshrined;  
Domestic Phoebus, with his Vesta joined;  
Thou jove, Whom in Tarpeian towers we adore;  
And you, all you, whom Poets may implore:  
Slow be that day, and after I am dead,  
Wherein Augustus, of the world the Head,  
Leaving the Earth, shall unto Heaven repair;  
And 〈◊〉 those that seek to him by prayer.   

And now the Work is ended, which, Jove's rage,  
Nor Fire▪ nor Sword shall raze, nor eating Age.  
Come when it will my deaths uncertain hour;  
Which only of my body hath a power:  
〈…〉 Part transcend the skier;  
And my immortal name shall never die.  
For, wheresoever the Roman Eagles spread  
Their conquering wings, I shall of all be read:  
And, if we Prophets truly can divine,  
I, in my living Fame, shall ever shine.    

planations. With these I had thought, in their several places, to have charged the margin: but the hastiness of the Press, and unexpected want of leisure, have prevented me. The same reason may serve for diverse slips, aed errors, which I not only know but acknowledge. Yet if the too cleanly Critic sweep not all the dust together and lay it on one heap, it may perhaps be hardly discerned, howsoever borne-with in so long and interrupted a labour.   


A  
ABantiades. pag. III. vers. 7. Actisius the Son of Abas King of Argos.  
Abantiades. pag. 117. vers. 4. and pag. 124. vers. 25. and pag. 128. vers. 21. Perseus' great grandchild to Abas.  
Acheloides. the Sirens, daughters to Achelous.  
Acheron. a River in Hell, and signifies deprivation of joy..  
Acrisionides. Perseus' grandchild to Acrisius.  
Actorides. pag. 212. vers. 20. Euritus and Creatus the sons of Actor.  
Actorides. pag. 359. vers. 13. Patroclus' grandchild to Actor.  
The Aeacideses. pag. 188. vers. 19 Peleus, Telamonius, and Phocus, sons to Aeacus.  
Aeacides. pag. 297. verse 7. and 32. pag. 302. vers. 6. Peleus' the son of Aeacus.  
Aeacides. pag. 321. vers. 21. and thenceforth, Achillles the grandchild of Aeacus.  
Aello. one of the Harpies.  
Aeetias. M●dea, the daughter of Aeeta.  
Aegides. Theseus, the son of Aegeus.  
Aegis. Minerua's shield.  
Aeolian Virgin. pag. 149. vers. 24. Arne, the daughter of Aeolus.  
Aeolides. pag. 107. vers. 31. Athamas, the son of Aeolus.  
Aeolides. pag. 194. vers. 20. Shafalus, the grandchild of Aeolus.  
Aeolides. pag. 250. vers. 17. Macareus and Canace, the son and daughter of Aeolus.  
Aesonides. jason, the son of Aeson.  
Agenorides. Cadmus, the son of Agenor.  
〈◊〉 Otus and Ephialtes, got by Neptune on the wife of Aloeus.  
Alcides. a name of Hercules, which signifies strength.  
Amazonian Heros. Hippolytus, son to Hippolyte the Amazonian.  
Amiclydes. Hyacinthus, the son of Amyclas.  
Amphrit●ite. the daughter of Oceanus, and wife to Neptune; taken for the Sea.  
Amphitryonides▪ Hercules the son of Amphitryo.  
Ampycides. Mopsus, the son of Ampycus.  
Anubis. an Idol of the Egyptians with the head of a dog.  
Apis. a black Ox spotted with white, worshipped by the Egyptians in remembrance of Osiris  
Aphrodites. a name of Venus, in that sprung from the foam of the Sea.  
Arcturus. a Star in the tail of the Greater Bear. Astraea. justice, so called of Astraeus, a most just, Prince.  
Astraean sons. The winds, sons to the Giant Astraen●.  
Athamantiades. Palaemon, the son of Athamas.  
Atlantiades. pag. 24. vers. 8. and pag. 48. vers. 13. Mercury the grandchild of Atla●.  
Atlantiades. pag. 102. vers. 23. Hermaphroditus, the son of Mercury, and great grandchild of Atlas.  
Atracides. Caeneus, so called of Atrax a City of Thessaly.  
Atrides. Agamemnon; sometimes Menelaus; both sons to Atreus.  
Auernian juno. Proserpina.  
Avernus'. a lake in hell, o●er which no birds can fly without falling.  
Autonoeius. Actaeon the son of Autonoe, Gadmus' daughter.  
Auster. The Southwind.   

B  
BAcchiadae. the offspring of Bacchia the Corinthian.  
Bacchanals. womans solemnising the feast of Bacchus.  
Belides. the Necces of Belus, and daughters of Danaus.  
Berecynthian. pag. 293. vers. 9 Midas of Berecynthus, a City of Phrygia.  
Bootes. the Star, that follows Charles Wain.  
Boreas. the Northwind.  
Bromius. a name of Bacchus, which signifies raging.  
Bubastis. an Egyptian Goddess, companion to Isis.   

C  
CArpathian Prophet. Proteus' a God of the Sea.  
Cecropides. the daughters of Cecrops, King of Athens.  
Centaurs. said to be half men and half beasts, in that they were the first that rid on horses.  
Cerastae. men with horns.  
Cerberus. the Hellbound with three heads, signifying a devourer of the dead.  
Chimaera. a monster; having the face of a woman, the body of a goat, and the tail of a Serpent.  
Colchis. Medea, so called of Colchis, where she was borne.  
Crataeis daughter. S●ylla.  
Cycladeses. Lands in the Aegaean Sea, dispersed in form of a cycle.  
Cyclops. Giants, and sons of Neptune; so called of the round eye, which they had in their foreheads.  
Cyclop●an darts. Thunder and Lightning forged by the Cyclops.  
Cyllenius, a name of Mercuric, in that borne on the hill Cyllene.  
Cynthius' Cynthia names of Apollo and Diana, of Cynthus a hill in Delo, where they were borne.  
Cyprides a names of Venus, of the Island of Cyprus, where she was worshipped.  
Cytherea. a name of Venus, of the Island Cythera, dedicated to Venus.   

D  
DAnaean Heros. Perseus' the son of Dance.  
D●rdan Prophet. Helenus' the son of Prian●  
Hymen. the God of marriage; sometimes takèn for marriage.  
Hyperion. sometimes taken for the Sun, sometimes for the father of the Sun.   

I  
IAcchus. a name of Bacchus, which signifies clamour.  
japetonides. Atlas' the son of japet.  
Idalia. Venus of Idalia, a hill in Cyprus, where she had her groves.  
Ilia des. pag. 267. vers. 4 Ganymed, grandchild to Ilus.  
Iliads. pag. 412. vers. 18. Romulus, descended from Ilus.  
Ilithyia. a name of Lucina, Goddess of child birth.  
Inachis. pag. 21. vers. 30. Iö, the daughter of Inachus  
Inachides. pag. 26. vers. 19 Epaphus, the son of Io, and grandchild of Inachus.  
Inachides. pag. 115. vers. 5. Perseus. The Argolians being so called of the river Inachus.  
Io. an acclamation of joy: where it stands not for Io the daughter of Inachus.  
Iris. the Rainbow.  
Ismenides Ismenians 

Thebans, so called of Ismenus, a river of Boeotia.    
Ithacus, Ulysses, of the land Ithaca, where he was borne.  
Iülus. a name of Ascanius.   

L  
LEmnian issue. pag. 55. vers. 22. Erichthonius son to Vulcan, who dwelled in Lemnos.  
Lenaeus. a name of Bacchus, of the vessel that receives the wine from the press.  
Lethe. a river of Hell, and signifies forgetfulness.  
Liber. a name of Bacchus, in that wine sreeth the heart from sorrow.  
Lucifer. the Morning Star.  
Lyaeus. a name of Bacchus; the same with Liber.   

M  
MAeandrius. Caunus, grandchild by the mother's side to the river Maeander.  
Maedusean Hearse. Pegasus, sprung from the blood of Medusa.  
Maeonidae. the Muses. Of Maeonia, where they dwelled.  
Paeons'. the daughters of Pierus, so called of the woods of Paeonia, which they frequented.  
Palladium. the Image of Pallas.  
Paphian Heros. Pygmalion of Paphos.  
Pelides. Achilles, the son of Peleus.  
Persephone. The same with Proserpina.  
Phasias. a name of Medea, from the river Phasts.  
Phegides. Themenus and Axion the sons of Phegeus.  
Pheres hope. Admetus, the son of Pheres.  
Phlegeton. a burning river in hell.  
Phoebus' Phoebe 

names of the Sun and Moon, in regard of their splendour.    
Phorcydes. the daughter of Phorcus.  
Phoronis. Iô, the sister of Phoroneus.  
Pleias. Maia, one of the Pleyades, and mother to Mercury.  
Pleiones' Nephew. Mercury, grandchild to Pleione, the wife of Atals.  
Paeans Heir Poeantius 

Philoctetes, the son of Paean.    
Pr●amides. pag. 355, vers. 32. Hector, the son of Priamus.  
Promerhides. Deucalion, the son of Prometheus.  
Properides. Infamous women of Cyprus.   

Q  
QVirinus. a name of Romulus.  
Quirites. Romans, so called of Quirinus.   

R  
RHamnusia. a name of Nemesis, of the city  
Rhamnus, where she badher Temple.   

S  
SAturnius Saturnia 

jupiter and juno, the son and daughter of Saturn.    
Smintheus. a name of Apollo, for destroying of mice.  
Sol. the Sun.  
Stygian shades. Hell; socalled of Styx, an infernal river.   

T  
TAntalides. pag. 348. vers. 15. Agamemnon, grandchild to Tantalus.  
Taygeta. one of the Pleyades, or seven Stars. Tellus. the Earth.  
Teucrans. Troyans', descended of Teucer.  
Thaumantias. Iris, the daughter of Thaumas.  
Th●spiades. the Muses; of Thesplae, a City near Helicon.  
Thestiadae. Toxeus and Plexippus, the sons of Thestius.  
Thestias. Althaea, the daughter of Thestius.  
Thestorides. Chalcas, the son of Thestor.  
Thyen. Bacchus; of Thyone, a name of his mother Semele.  
Thyrsus. a javelin wound with Iuy, borne by Bacchus.  
Titan. a name of the Sun, from his mother Titea. whose 45. children were generally called by the name of Titans.  
Titania. p. 14. v. 19 Pyrrha, descended of the Titans.  
Titania. pag. 67. vers. 19 and pag. 179. verse. 5. Diana, grandchild to Titaea.  
Titania. pag. 157. vers. 11. Latona, daughter to Coeus, one of the Titans.  
Titania. pag. 386. vers. 13. Circe, descended of the Titans.  
Triones. the seven stars, that turn about the Pole.  
Triopeius. Eresich●hon, the son of Triopas.  
Tritonia. Pallas, so called for her wisdom.  
Troades. the women of Troy.  
Tydides'. Diomedes, the son of Tydeus.  
Tyndaridae. Castor and Pollux, the sons of Tyndarus.  
Tyrinthian. Hercules of Tyrus.   

V  
Wlcans' seed pag. 186. vers. 19 Peripha●us.   

Z  
ZEphyru●●the West-wind.   
FINIS.