And ranch'd his hips with one continu'd wound. Now Leda's twins, the future stars, appear; White were their habits, white their horses

were;

Conspicuous both, and both in act to throw,
Their trembling lances brandish'd at the foe:
Nor had they miss'd; but he to thickets fled,
Conceal'd from aiming spears, not pervious to
the steed.

But Telamon rush'd in, and happ'd to meet
A rising root, that held his fasten'd feet;
So down he fell, whom, sprawling on the ground,
His brother from the wooden gyves unbound.
Meantime the virgin-huntress was not slow
To expel the shaft from her contracted bow:
Beneath his ear the fasten'd arrow stood,
And from the wound appear'd the trickling

blood.

She blush'd for joy: But Meleagrus rais'd
His voice with loud applause, and the fair
archer prais'd.

He was the first to see, and first to show
His friends the marks of the successful blow.
Nor shall thy valour want the praises due,
He said; a virtuous envy seiz'd the crew.
They shout, the shouting animates their hearts,
And all at once employ their thronging darts;
But out of order thrown, in air they join;
And multitude makes frustrate the design.
With both his hands the proud Ancæus takes,
And flourishes his double-biting axe :
Then forward to his fate, he took a stride
Before the rest, and to his fellows cried,
Give place, and mark the difference, if you can,
Between a woman-warrior and a man ;
The boar is doom'd; nor, though Diana lend
Her aid, Diana can her beast defend.
Thus boasted he; then stretch'd, on tiptoe stood,
Secure to make his empty promise good.
But the more wary beast prevents the blow,
And upward rips the groin of his audacious foe.
Ancæus falls; his bowels from the wound
Rush out, and clotted blood distains the ground.
Pirithous, no small portion of the war,
Press'd on, and shook his lance; to whom from
far

Thus Theseus cried: O stay, my better part,
My more than mistress; of my heart, the heart:
The strong may fight aloof: Ancæus tried
His force too near, and by presuming died:
He said, and, while he spake, his javelin

threw :

Hissing in air the unerring weapon flew;
But on an arm of oak, that stood betwixt
The marksman and the mark, his lance he fixt.
Once more bold Jason threw, but failed to
wound

The boar, and slew an undeserving hound;

And through the dog the dart was nail'd to ground.

Two spears from Meleager's hand were sent, With equal force, but various in the event: The first was fix'd in earth, the second stood On the boar's bristled back, and deeply drank his blood.

Now while the tortur'd salvage turns around, And flings about his foam, impatient of the wound; [vokes

The wound's great author close at hand proHis rage, and plies him with redoubled strokes; Wheels as he wheels; and with his pointed dart Explores the nearest passage to his heart. Quick and more quick he spins in giddy gyres, Then falls, and in much foam his soul expires. This act with shouts heaven-high the friendly band

Applaud, and strain in theirs the victor's hand. Then all approach the slain with vast surprise, Admire on what a breadth of earth he lies; And, scarce secure, reach out their spears afar, And blood their points, to prove their partner

ship of war.

But he, the conquering chief, his foot impress'd
On the strong neck of that destructive beast;
And gazing on the nymph with ardent eyes,
Accept, said he, fair Nonacrine, my prize
And, though inferior, suffer me to join
My labours, and my part of praise, with thine;
At this presents her with the tusky head
And chine, with rising bristles roughly spread.
Glad, she receiv'd the gift: and seem'd to take
With double pleasure, for the giver's sake.
The rest were seiz'd with sullen discontent,
And a deaf murmur through the squadron went:
All envied; but the Thestyan brethren show'd
The least respect, and thus they vent their
[share,
Lay down those honour'd spoils, nor think to
Weak woman as thou art, the prize of war:
Ours is the title, thine a foreign claim,
Since Meleagrus from our lineage came.
Trust not thy beauty; but restore the prize,
Which he, besotted on that face and eyes,
Would rend from us. At this, inflamed with
spite,

spleen aloud:

From her they snatch the gift, from him the giver's right.

But soon the impatient prince his fauchion

drew,

And cried, Ye robbers of another's due
Now learn the difference, at your proper cost
Betwixt true valour, and an empty boast.
At this advanc'd, and, sudden as the word,
In proud Plexippus' bosom plung'd the sword:
Toxeus amaz'd, and with amazement slow,
Or to revenge, or ward the coming blow,

Stood doubting; and while doubting thus he stood,

Receiv'd the steel bath'd in his brother's blood. Pleas'd with the first, unknown the second news,

Althea to the temples pays their dues
For her son's conquest; when at length appear
Her grisly brethren stretch'd upon the bier :
Pale at the sudden sight, she chang'd her cheer,
And with her cheer her robes; but hearing tell
The cause, the manner,
and by whom they fell,
'T was grief no more, or grief and rage were one
Within her soul: at last 't was rage alone;
Which burning upwards in succession dries
The tears that stood considering in her eyes.
There lay a log unlighted on the earth:
When she was lab'ring in the throes of birth
For the unborn chief, the fatal sisters came,
And rais'd it up, and toss'd it on the flame:
Then on the rock a scanty measure place
Of vital flax, and turn'd the wheel apace;
And turning sung, to this red brand and thee,
O new-born babe, we give an equal destiny:
So vanish'd out of view. The frighted dame
Sprung hasty from her bed and quench'd the
flame:

The log, in secret lock'd, she kept with care, And that, while thus preserv'd, preserv'd her heir.

This brand she now produc'd; and first she

strows

The hearth with heaps of chips, and after blows; Thrice heav'd her hand, and heav'd, she thrice repress'd:

The sister and the mother long contest,
Two doubtful titles in one tender breast;
And now her eyes and cheeks with fury glow,
Now pale her cheeks, her eyes with pity flow;
Now low'ring looks presage approaching storms,
And now prevailing love her face reforms:
Resolv'd, she doubts again; the tears she dried
With blushing rage, are by new tears supplied;
And as a ship, which winds and waves assail,
Now with the current drives, now with the gale,
Both opposite, and neither long prevail.
She feels a double force, by turns obeys
The imperious tempest, and the impetuous seas;
So fares Althaa's mind; first she relents
With pity of that pity then repents:
Sister and mother long the scales divide,
But the beam nodded on the sister's side.
Sometimes she softly sigh'd, then roar'd aloud;
But sighs were stifled in the cries of blood.

The pious impious wretch at length decreed, To please her brothers' ghosts, her son should

bleed;

And when the funeral flames began to rise, Receive, she said, a sister's sacrifice :

A mother's bowels burn: high in her hand,
Thus while she spoke, she held the fatal brand:
Then thrice before the kindled pile she bow'd,
And the three Furies thrice invok'd aloud:
Come, come, revenging sisters, come and view
A sister paying her dead brother's due:
A crime I punish, and a crime commit;
But blood for blood, and death for death is fit:
Great crimes must be with greater crimes re-
paid,

And second funerals on the former laid.
Let the whole household in one ruin fall,
And may Diana's curse o'ertake us all.
Shall fate to happy (Eneus still allow
One son, while Thestius stands depriv'd of two?
Better three lost, than one unpunish'd go.
Take then, dear ghosts, (while yet admitted

new

In hell, you wait my duty,) take your due;
A costly offering on your tomb is laid,
When with my blood the price of yours is paid.

Ah! whither am I hurried? Ah! forgive, Ye shades, and let your sister's issue live; A mother cannot give him death; though he Deserves it, he deserves it not from me.

Then shall the unpunish'd wretch insult the slain,

Triumphant live? not only live, but reign? While you, thin shades, the sport of winds,

are tost

O'er dreary plains, or dread the burning coast.
I cannot, cannot bear; 't is past, 't is done :
Perish this impious, this detested son ;
Perish his sire, and perish I withal; [fall.
And let the house's heir, and the hop'd kingdom
Where is the mother fled, her pious love,
And where the pains with which ten months I
strove!

Ah! hadst thou died, my son, in infant years,
Thy little hearse had been bedew'd with tears.
Thou liv'st by me; to me thy breath resign;
Mine is the merit, the demerit thine.
Thy life by double title I require;
Once given at birth, and once preserv'd from
One murder pay, or add one murder more,
And me to them who fell by thee restore.

[fire;

I would, but cannot: my son's image stands Before my sight; and now their angry hands My brothers hold, and vengeance these exact, This pleads compassion, and repents the fact.

He pleads in vain, and I pronounce his doom: My brothers, though unjustly, shall o'ercome. But having paid their injur'd ghosts their due, My son requires my death, and mine shall his pursue.

At this for the last time she lifts her hand, Averts her eyes, and half unwilling, drops the brand.

The brand, amid the flaming fuel thrown,
Or drew, or seem'd to draw, a dying groan;
The fires themselves but faintlylick'd their prey,
Then loath'd their impious food, and would have
shrunk away.

Just then the hero cast a doleful cry,
And in those absent flames began to fry;
The blind contagion rag'd within his veins;
But he with manly patience bore his pains;
He fear'd not fate, but only griev'd to die
Without an honest wound, and by a death so dry,
Happy Ancæus, thrice aloud he cried,
With what becoming fate in arms he died!
Then call'd his brothers, sisters, sire, around,
And her to whom his nuptial vows were bound:
Perhaps his mother; a long sigh he drew,
And his voice failing, took his last adieu:
For as the flames augment, and as they stay
At their full height, then languish to decay,
They rise, and sink by fits; at last they soar
In one bright blaze, and then descend no more;
Just so his inward heats, at height, impair,
Till the last burning breath shoots out the soul
in air.

Now lofty Calydon in ruins lies;

All ages, all degrees unsluice their eyes;
And heaven and earth resound with murmurs,

Would offer to describe his sisters' pain : They beat their breasts with many a bruising blow,

Till they turn livid, and corrupt the snow.
The corpse they cherish, while the corpse re-
mains,

And exercise and rub with fruitless pains;
And when to funeral flames 't is borne away,
They kiss the bed on which the body lay:
And when those funeral flames no longer burn,
(The dust compos'd within a pious urn,)
E'en in that urn their brother they confess,
And hug it in their arms, and to their bosoms
press.

His tomb is rais'd; then, stretch'd along the

ground,

Those living monuments his tomb surround: E'en to his naine, inscrib'd, their tears they pay, Till tears and kisses wear his name away.

But Cynthia now had all her fury spent, Not with less ruin than a race content: Excepting Gorge, perish'd all the seed, And her whom heaven for Hercules decreed. Satiate at last, no longer she pursu'd The weeping sisters; but with wings endu'd, And horny beaks, and sent to flit in air; Who yearly round the tomb in feather'd flocks repair.

BAUCIS AND PHILEMON,

Out of the Eighth Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses.

The author, pursuing the deeds of Theseus, relates how be, with his friend Pirithous, were invited by Achelous, the river-god, to stay with him, till his waters were abated. Achelous entertains them with a relation of his own love to Perimele, who was changed into an island by Neptune, at his request. Pirithous, being an atheist, derides the legend, and denies the power of the gods to work that miracle. Lelex, another companion of Theseus, to confirm the story of Achelous, relates another metamorphosis of Baucis and Philemon into trees; of which he was partly an eye-wit

ness.

THUS Achelous ends: his audience hear
With admiration, and, admiring, fear
The powers of heaven; except Ixion's son,
Who laugh'd at all the gods, believ'd in none;
He shook his impious head, and thus replies,
These legends are no more than pious lies:
You attribute too much to heavenly sway,
To think they give us forms, and take away.
The rest, of better minds, their sense declar'd
Against this doctrine, and with horror heard.

Then Lelex rose, an old experienc'd man, And thus with sober gravity began:

Heaven's power is infinite: earth, air, and sea The manufacture mass, the making power obey: By proof to clear your doubt; in Phrygian ground Two neighb'ring trees, with walls encompass'd round,

Stand on a moderate rise, with wonder shown,
One a hard oak, a softer linden one:

I saw the place and them, by Pittheus sent
To Phrygian realms, my grandsire's govern-

ment.

Not far from thence is seen a lake, the haunt
Of coots, and of the fishing cormorant :
Here Jove with Hermes came; but in disguise
Of mortal men conceal'd their deities:

One laid aside his thunder, one his rod;
And many toilsome steps together trod;
For harbour at a thousand doors they knock'd,
Not one of all the thousand but was lock'd.
At last an hospitable house they found,

A homely shed; the roof, not far from ground, Was thatch'd with reeds and straw together bound.

There Baucis and Philemon liv'd, and there
Had liv'd long married and a happy pair:
Now old in love; though little was their store,
Inur'd to want, their poverty they bore,
Nor aim'd at wealth, professing to be poor.
For master or for servant here to call,
Was all alike, where only two were all.
Cominand was none, where equal love was
paid,

Or rather both commanded, both obey'd.

From lofty roofs the gods repuls'd before, Now stooping, enter'd through the little door; The man (their hearty welcome first express'd) A common settle drew for either guest, Inviting each his weary limbs to rest. But ere they sat, officious Baucis lays Two cushions stuff'd with straw, the seat to raise;

Coarse, but the best she had; then takes the load

Of ashes from the hearth, and spreads abroad The living coals, and, lest they should expire, With leaves and barks she feeds her infant fire: It smokes, and then with trembling breath she blows,

Till in a cheerful blaze the flames arose. With brushwood and with chips she strengthens these,

And adds at last the boughs of rotten trees. The fire thus form'd, she sets the kettle on, (Like burnish'd gold the little seether shone,) Next took the coleworts which her husband got From his own ground, (a small well-water'd spot :)

She stripp'd the stalks of all their leaves; the best

She cull'd, and then with handy care she dress'd
High o'er the hearth a chine of bacon hung;
Good old Philemon seiz'd it with a prong,
And from the sooty rafter drew it down,
Then cut a slice, but scarce enough for one:
Yet a large portion of a little store,

Which for their sakes alone he wish'd were

more.

This in the pot he plung'd without delay,
To tame the flesh, and drain the salt away.
The time between, before the fire they sat,
And shorten'd the delay by pleasing chat.

A beam there was, on which a beechen pail Hung by the handle, on a driven nail:

And after with clean towels dried their sweat:
This done, the host produc'd the genial bed,
Sallow the foot, the borders, and the stead,
Which with no costly coverlet they spread;
But coarse old garments, yet such robes as
these

They laid alone, at feasts, on holydays.
The good old housewife, tucking up her gown,
The table sets; the invited gods lie down.
The trivet-table of a foot was lame,
A blot which prudent Baucis overcame,
Who thrust beneath the limping leg a sherd,
So was the mended board exactly rear'd:
Then rubb'd it o'er with newly gather'd mint,
A wholesome herb, that breath'd a grateful

scent.

Pallas began the feast, where first were seen
The party-clour'd olive, black and green:
Autumnal cornels next in order serv'd,
In lees of wine well pickled and preserv'd:
A garden salad was the third supply,
Of endive, radishes, and succory:
Then curds and cream, the flower of country
fare,

And new-laid eggs, which Baucis' busy care
Turn'd by a gentle fire, and roasted rare.
All these in earthenware were serv'd to board;
And next in place, an earthen pitcher, stor'd
With liquor of the best the cottage could afford
This was the table's ornament and pride,
With figures wrought: like pages at his side
Stood beechen bowls; and these were shining
clean,

Varnish'd with wax without, and lin❜d within.
By this the boiling kettle had prepar'd,
And to the table sent the smoking lard;
On which with eager appetite they dine,
A savoury bit, that serv'd to relish wine:
The wine itself was suiting to the rest,
Still working in the must, and lately press'd.
The second course succeeds like that before,
Plums, apples, nuts, and, of their wintry store,
Dry figs and grapes, and wrinkled dates were set
In canisters, to enlarge the little treat:
All these a milk-white honey-comb surround,
Which in the midst the country banquet crown'd.
But the kind hosts their entertainment grace
With hearty welcome, and an open face:
In all they did, you might discern with ease
A willing mind, and a desire to please.

Meantime the beechen bowls went round, and
still,

Though often emptied, were observ'd to fill,
Fill'd without hands, and of their own accord
Ran without feet, and danc'd about the board,

Devotion seiz'd the pair, to see the feast
With wine, and of no common grape, increas'd;
And up they held their hands, and fell to prayer,
Excusing, as they could, their country fare.
One goose they had, ('t was all they could allow,)
A wakeful sentry, and on duty now,
Whoin to the gods for sacrifice they vow:
Her, with malicious zeal, the couple view'd;
She ran for life, and, limping, they pursu'd:
Full well the fowl perceiv'd their bad intent,
And would not make her master's compliment,
But, persecuted, to the powers she flies,
And close between the legs of Jove she lies.
He, with a gracious ear, the suppliant heard,
And sav'd her life; then what he was declar'd,
And own'd the god. The neighbourhood, said
he,

Shall justly perish for impiety:
You stand alone exempted; but obey
With speed, and follow where we lead the way:
Leave these accurs'd; and to the mountains
height

Ascend; nor once look backward in your flight.
They haste, and what their tardy feet denied,
The trusty staff (their better leg) supplied.
An arrow's flight they wanted to the top,
And there secure,
but spent
with travel, stop;
Then turn their now no more forbidden eyes;
Lost in a lake the floated level lies:

A wat❜ry desert covers all the plains,
Their cot alone, as in an isle, remains:
Wond'ring with peeping eyes, while they de-
plore

Their neighbours' fate, and country now no

more,

Their little shed, scarce large enough for two, Seems, from the ground increas'd in height and

bulk to grow.

A stately temple shoots within the skies:
The crotchets of their cot in columns rise;
The pavement polish'd marble they behold,
The gates with sculpture grac'd, the spires and
tiles of gold.

Then thus the sire of gods, with looks serene,
Speak thy desire, thou only just of men;
And thou, O woman, only worthy found
To be with such a man in marriage bound.
A while they whisper; then, to Jove ad-
dress'd,

Philemon thus prefers their joint request:
We crave to serve before your sacred shrine.
And offer at your altars rites divine:
And since not any action of our life
Has been polluted with domestic strife
We beg one hour of death; that neither she
With widow's tears may live to bury me,
Nor weeping I, with wither'd arms, may bear
My breathless Baucis to the sepulchre.

The godheads sign their suit. They run their

race

In the same tenor all the appointed space
Then, when their hour was come, while they
relate

These past adventures at the temple-gate,
Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen
Sprouting with sudden leaves of sprightly
green:

Old Baucis look'd where old Philemon stood,
And saw his lengthen'd arms a sprouting wood:
New roots their fasten'd feet begin to bind,
Their bodies stiffen in a rising rind:
Then, ere the bark above their shoulders.
They give and take at once their last adieu;
At once, Farewell, O faithful spouse, they said;
At once the encroaching rinds their closing lips
invade.

grew,

E'en yet, an ancient Tyanæan shows
A spreading oak, that near a linden grows;
The neighbourhood confirm the prodigy,
Grave men, not vain of tongue, or like to lie.
I saw myself the garlands on their boughs,
And tablets hung for gifts of granted vows,
And offering fresher up, with pious prayer,
The good, said I, are God's peculiar care,
And such as honour heaven, shall heavenly
honour share.

THE FABLE OF IPHIS AND IANTHE.

From the Ninth Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses.

THE fame of this, perhaps, through Crete had

flown ;

But Crete had newer wonders of her own,
In Iphis chang'd; for near the Gnossian bounds,
(As loud report the miracle resounds,)
At Phæstus dwelt a man of honest blood,
But meanly born, and not so rich as good;
Esteem'd and lov'd by all the neighbourhood
Who to his wife, before the time assign'd
For child-birth came, thus bluntly spoke his

mind:

If heaven, said Lygdus, will vouchsafe to hear
I have but two petitions to prefer;
Short pains for thee, for me a son and heir,
Girls cost as many throes in bringing forth;
Beside, when born, the tits are little worth:
Weak puling things, unable to sustain
Their share of labour, and their bread to gain.
If therefore, thou a creature shalt produce,
Of so great charges, and so little use,
(Bear witness, heaven, with what reluctancy,)
Her hapless innocence I doom to die.