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:
This fill'd with water, gently warm'd, they set
Before their guests; in this they bath'd their feet,
And after with clean towels dry'd their sweat.
This done, the host produc'd the genial bed,
Sallow the feet, 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 holidays.

The good old housewife, tucking up her gown,
The table sets; th' 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 was seen
The party-colour'd olive, black and green:
Autumnal cornels next in order serv'd,
In lees of wine well pickled, and preserv'd.
A garden-sallad was the third supply,
Of endive, radishes, and succory:

Then curds and cream, the flow'r 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 prepai'd,
And to the table sent the smoking lard;
On which with eager appetite they dine,
A sav'ry 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,
Plumbs, apples, nuts, and of their wintry store
Dry figs, and grapes, and wrinkled dates were set
In canisters, t' 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.
"Mean-time the beechen bowls went round,
and still,

Though often empty'd, 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 pray'r,
Excusing, as they could, their country fare.

(low)

D

"One goose they had, ('twas all they could al-
A wakeful centry, and on duty now,
Whom 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 Pow'rs 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
Shall justly perish for impiety;
[he,
You stand alone exempted; but obey
With speed, and follow where we lead the way:
Leave these accurs'd; and to the mountain's height
Ascend; nor once look backward in your flight.'
"They haste, and what their tardy feet deny'd,
The trusty staff (their better leg) supply'd.
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 watery desert covers all the plains,
Their cot alone, as in an isle remains.
Wond'ring with weeping eyes, while they deplore
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 crotches 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.'
"Awhile they whisper; then to Jove address'd,
Philemon thus prefers their joint request:
'We crave to serve before your sacred shrine,
And offer at your altar 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 the

race

In the same tenour all th' 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 grew,
They give and take at once their last adieu.
At once, Farewell, O faithful spouse,' they said;
At once th' incroaching rinds their closing lips in-
Ev'n yet, an ancient Tyanæan shows [vade.
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 pray'r,
The good,' said I, are God's peculiar care,
And such as honour Heav'n, shall heav'nly honour
share."

Continued by Mr. Vernon.

THE CHANGE OF PROTEUS.

HE ceas'd in his relation to proceed,
Whilst all admir'd the author, and the deed;
But Theseus most, inquisitive to know
From gods what wondrous alterations grow.
Whom thus the Calydonian stream address'd,
Rais'd high to speak, the couch his elbow press'd.
"Some, when transform'd, fix in the lasting change;
Some, with more right, through various figures
range.

Proteus, thus large thy privilege was found,
Thou inmate of the seas, which earth surround.
Sometimes a blooming youth you grac'd the shore;
Oft a fierce lion, or a furious boar:
With glist'ring spires now seem'd an hissing'snake,
The bold would tremble in his hands to take:
With horns assum'd a bull; sometimes you prov'd
A tree by roots, a stone by weight unmov'd:
Sometimes two wav'ring contraries became,
Flow'd down in water, or aspir'd in flame.

THE STORY OF ERISICHTHON.

"In various shapes thus to deceive the eyes, Without a settled stint of her disguise, Rash Erisichthon's daughter had the pow'r, And brought it to Autolycus in dow'r. Her atheist sire the slighted gods defy'd, And ritual honours to their shrines deny'd. As fame reports, his hand an ax sustain'd, Which Ceres' consecrated grove prophan'd; Which durst the venerable gloom invade, And violate with light the awful shade. An ancient oak in the dark centre stood, The covert's glory, and itself a wood; Garlands embrac'd its shaft, and from the boughs Hung tablets, monuments of prosp'rous vows. In the cool dusk its unpierc'd verdure spread, The Dryads oft their hallow'd dances led; And oft, when round their gaging arms they cast, Full fifteen ells it measur'd in the waist: In height all under-standards did surpass, As they aspir'd above the humbler grass. [strain, "These motives, which would gentler minds reCould not make Triope's bold son abstain; He sternly charg'd his slaves with strict decree, To fell with gashing steel the sacred tree. But whilst they, ling'ring, his commands delay'd, He snatch'd an ax, and thus blaspheming said; Was this no oak, nor Ceres' favourite care, But Ceres' seif, this arm, unaw'd, should dare Its leafy honours in the dust to spread, And level with the earth its airy head.' He spoke, and as he pois'd a slanting stroke, Sighs heav'd, and tremblings shook the frighted oak; Its leaves look'd sickly, pale its acorns grew, And its long branches sweat a chilly dew. But when his impious hand a wound bestow'd, Blood from the mangled bark in currents flow'd. When a devoted bull of mighty size, A sinning nation's grand atonement, dies; With such a plenty from the spouting veins, A crimson stream the turfy altars stains.

"The wonder all amaz'd; yet one more bold, The fact dissuading, strove his ax to hold.

VOL. XX.

But the Thessalian, obstinately bent,
Too proud to change, too harden'd to repent,
On his kind monitor his eyes, which burn'd
With rage, and with his eyes his weapon turn'd;
Take the reward,' says he,' of pious dread :'
Then with a blow lopp'd off his parted head.
No longer check'd, the wretch his crime pursu'd,
Doubled his strokes, and sacrilege renew'd;
When from the groaning trunk a voice was heard,
A Dryad I, by Ceres' love preferr'd,
Within the circle of this clasping rtnd
Coeval grew, and now in ruin join'd;
But instant vengeance shall thy sin pursue,
And death is cheer'd with this prophetic view.'

"At last the oak with cords enforc'd to bow,
Strain'd from the top, and sap'd with wounds below,
The humbler wood, partaker of its fate,
Crush'd with its fall, and shiver'd with its weight.

"The grove destroy'd, the sister Dryads moan, Griev'd at its loss, and frighted at their own: Straight, suppliants for revenge, to Ceres go, In sable weeds expressive of their woe.

"The beauteous goddess with a graceful air Bow'd in consent and nodded to their pray'r. The awful motion shook the fruitful ground, And wav'd the fields with golden harvests crown'd. Soon she contriv'd in her projecting mind A plague severe, and piteous in its kind, (If plagues for crimes of such presumptuous height Could pity in the softest breast create.) With pinching want, and hunger's keenest smart, To tear his vitals, and corrode his heart. But since her near approach by fate's deny'd To Famine, and broad climes their pow'rs divide, A nymph, the mountain's ranger, she address'd, And thus resolv'd, her high commands express'd.

THE DESCRIPTION OF FAMINE.
"WHERE frozen Scythia's utmost bound is
A desert lies, a melancholy waste: [plac'd,
In yellow crops there nature never smil'd,
No fruitful tree to shade the barren wild.
There sluggish cold its icy station makes,
There paleness, frights, and anguish trembling
shakes.

Of pining famine this the fated seat,
To whom my orders in these words repeat:
Bid her this miscreant with her sharpest pains
Chastise, and sheath herself into his veins;
Be unsubdu'd by plenty's baffled store,
Reject my empire, and defeat my pow'r.
And lest the distance, and the tedious way,
Should with the toil, and long fatigue dismay,
Ascend my chariot, and convey'd on high,
Guide the rein'd dragons through the parting sky.
"The nymph, accepting of the granted car,
Sprung to the seat, and posted through the air;
Nor stopp'd till she to a bleak mountain came
Of wondrous height, and Caucasus its name.
There in a stony field the fiend she found,
Herbs gnawing, and roots scratching from the
ground.

Her elfelock hair in matted tresses grew,
Sunk were her eyes, and pale her ghastly hue,
Wan were her lips, and foul with clammy dew.
Her throat was furr'd, her guts appear'd witinin
With snaky crawlings through her parchment skin.
Her jutting hips seem'd starting from their place,
And for a belly was a belly's space.

K K

Her dugs hung dangling from her craggy spine,
Loose to her breast, and fasten'd to her chine.
Her joints protuberant by leanness grown,
Consumption sunk the flesh, and rais'd the bone.
Her knees, large orbits bunch'd to monstrous size,
And ankles to undue proportion rise.
"This plague the nymph uot daring to draw near,
At distance hail'd, and greeted from afar.
And though she told her charge without delay,
Though her arrival late, and short her stay,
She felt keen Famine, or she seem'd to feel,
Invade her blood, and on her vitals steal.
She turn'd, from the infection to remove,
And back to Thessaly the serpents drove.

"The fiend obey'd the goddess's command, (Though their effects in opposition stand) She cut her way, supported by the wind, And reach'd the mansion by the nymph assign'd. "Twas night when ent'ring Erisichthon's room, Dissolv'd in sleep, and thoughtless of his doom, She clasp'd his limbs, by impious labour tir'd, With battish win, but her whole self inspir'd; Breath'd on his throat and chest a tainting blast, And in his veins infus'd an endless fast.

"The task dispatch'd, away the fury flies
From plenteous regions, and from rip'ning skies;
To her old barren north she wings her speed,
And cottages distress'd with pinching need.

"Still' slumbers Erisichthon's senses drown,
And south his fancy with their softest down.
He dreams of viands delicate to eat,
And revels on imaginary meat.

Chaws with his working mouth, but chaws in vain,
And tires his grinding teeth with fruitless pain;
Deludes his throat with visionary fare,

Feasts on the wind, and banquets on the air.

The morning came, the night and slumbers
past,

But still the furious pangs of hunger last;
The cank'ious rage still gnaws with griping pains,
Stings in his throat, and in his bowels reigns.

Straight he requires, impatient in demand, Provisions from the air, the seas, the land. But though the land, air, seas, provisions grant, Starves at full tables, and complains of want. What to a people might in dole be paid, Or victual cities for a long blockade, Could not one wolfish appetite assuage; For glutting nourishment increas'd its rage. As rivers pour'd from ev'ry distant shore The sea insatiate drinks, and thirsts for more; Or as the fire, which all materials burns, And wasted forests into ashes turns, Grows more voracious, as the more it preys, Recruits dilate the flame, and spread the blaze: So impious Erisichthon's hunger raves, Receives refreshments, and refreshments craves. Food raises a desire for food, and meat Is but a new provocative to eat.

He grows more empty, as the more supply'd, And endless cramining but extends the void.

THE TRANSFORMATIONS OF ERISICHTHON'S

DAUGHTER.

"Now riches hoarded by paternal care Were sunk, the glutton swallowing up the heir; Yet the devouring flaine no stores abate, Nor less the hunger grew with his estate. One daughter left, as left his keen desire, A daughter worthy of a better sire:

[cape,

Her too he sold, spent nature to sustain;
She scorn'd a lord with generous disdain,
And flying, spread her hands upon the main.
Then pray'd: Grant thou, 1 bondage may es
And with my liberty reward thy rape;
Repay my virgin treasure with thy aid.'
('Twas Neptune who deflower'd the beauteous maid.)
"The god was mov'd at what the fair had su’d,
When she, so lately by her master view'd
In her known figure, on a sudden took
A fisher's babit, and a manly look.
To whom her owner hasted to inquire;

"O thou,' said he, whose baits hide treach'rous' wire;

Whose art can manage, and experienc'd skill,
The taper angle, and the bobbing quill,
So may the sea be ruffled with no storm,
But smooth with calms, as you the truth inform;
So your deceit may no shy fishes feel,
Till struck and fasten'd on the bearded steel.
Did not you standing view upon the strand
A wand'ring maid? I'm sure I saw her stand;
Her hair disorder'd, and her homely dress
Betray'd her want, and witness'd her distress.'
"Me heedless,' she reply'd,' whoe'er you are,
Excuse, attentive to another care.

I settled on the deep my steady eye;
Fix'd on my float, and bent on my employ.
And that you may not doubt what I impart,
So may the ocean's god assist my art,
If on the beach since I my sport pursu'd,
Or man or woman but myself I view'd.'

| Back o'er the sands, deluded, he withdrew,
Whilst she for her old form put off her new.

"Her sire her shifting pow'r to change per

ceiv'd,

And various chapmen by her sale deceiv'd.
A fowl with spangled plumes, a brinded steer,
Sometimes a crested mare, or antler'd deer:
Sold for a price, she parted, to maintain
Her starving parent with dishonest gain,

"At last all means, as all provisions, fail'd;
For the disease by remedies prevail'd;
His muscles with a furious bite he tore,
Gorg'd his own tatter'd flesh, and gulp'd his gore,
Wounds were his feast, his life to life a prey,
Supporting nature by its own decay.

"But foreign stories why should I relate? I too myself can to new forms trauslate, Though the variety's not unconfin'd, But fix'd in number, and restrain'd in kind: For often I this present shape retain, Oft curl a snake the volumes of my train. Sometimes my strength into my horns transferr'd, A bull I march, the captain of the herd. But whilst I once those goring weapons wore, Vast wresting force one from my forehead tore. Lo my maim'd brows the injury still own;" He ceas'd; his words concluding with a groan.

OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.
BOOK IX.

Translated by Mr. Gay and others.

THE STORY OF ACHELOUS AND HERCULES.

By Mr. Gay.

THESEUS requests the god to tell his woes, Whence his maim'd brow, and whence his greans

arosc:

When thus the Calydonian stream reply'd,
With twining reeds his careless tresses ty'd:
"Ungrateful is the tale; for who can bear,
When conquer'd, to rehearse the shameful war?
Yet I'l the melancholy story trace;
So great a conqu'ror softens the disgrace:
Nor was it still so mean the prize to yield,
As great and glorious to dispute the field.

"Perhaps you've heard of Deianira's name,
For all the country spoke her beauty's fame.
Long was the nymph by num'rous suitors woo'd,
Each with address his envy'd hopes pursu'd:
I join'd the loving band; to gain the fair,
Reveal'd my passion to her father's ear:
Their vain pretensions all the rest resign,
Alcides only strove to equal mine;

He boasts his birth from Jove, recounts his spoils,
His step-dame's hate subdu'd, and finish'd toils.
"Can mortals then,' said I, with gods com-
pare?

Behold a god; mine is the watry care:
Through your wide realms I take my mazy way,
Branch into streams, and o'er the region stray:
No foreign guest your daughter's charms adores,
But one who rises in your native shores.
Let not his punishment your pity move;
Is Juno's hate an argument for love?
Though you your life from fair Alcmena drew,
Jove's a feign'd father, or by fraud a true.
Choose then; confess thy mother's honour lost,
Or thy descent from Jove no longer boast.'
"While thus I spoke, he look'd with stern disdain,
Nor could the sallies of his wrath restrain,
Which thus break forth. This arm decides our
right;

Vanquish in words, be mine the prize in fight.'

"Bold he rush'd on. My honour to maintain, I fling my verdant garments on the plain, My arms stretch forth, my pliant limbs prepare, And with bent hands expect the furious war. O'er my sleek skin now gather'd dust he throws, And yellow sand his mighty muscles strows. Oft he my neck and nimble legs assails, He seems to grasp me, but as often fails. Each part he now invades with eager hand; Safe in my bulk, immoveable I stand.

So when loud storms break high, and foam and

roar

Against some mole that stretches from the shore; The firm foundation lasting tempests braves, Defies the warring winds, and driving waves.

"Awhile we breathe, then forward rush amain, Renew the combat, and our ground maintain; Foot strove with foot, I prone extend my breast, Hands war with hands, and forehead forehead prest.

Thus have I seen two furious bulls engage,
Inflam'd with equal love, and equal rage;
Each claims the fairest heifer of the grove,
And conquest only can decide their love:
The trembling herds survey the fight from far,
Till victory decides th' important war.
'Three times in vain he strove my joints to wrest;
To force my hold, and throw me from his breast;
The fourth he broke my gripe, that clasp'd him
round,

Then with new force he stretch'd me on the ground;

Close to my back the mighty burden clung,
As if a mountain o'er my limbs were flung.

And slip his hold, in form of speckled snake;
Who, when I wreath'd in spires my body round,
Or show'd my forky tongue with hissing sound,
Smiles at my threats; 'Such foes my cradle knew,
He cries, dire snakes my infant hand o'erthrew;
A dragon's form might other conquests gain,
To war with me you take that shape in vain.
Art thou proportion'd to the hydra's length,
Who by his wounds receiv'd augmented strength?
He rais'd a hundred hissing heads in air;
When one I lop'd, up-sprung a dreadful pair.
By his wounds fertile, and with slaughter strong,
Singly I quell'd him, and stretch'd dead along.
What canst thou do, a form precarious, prone
To rouse my rage with terrours not thy own?'
He said; and round my neck his hands he cast,
And with his straiuing fingers wrung me fast:
My throat he tortur'd, close as pincers clasp,
In vain I strove to loose the forceful grasp.
"Thus vanquish'd too, a third form still remains:
Chang'd to a bull, my lowing fills the plains.
Straight on the left his nervous arms were thrown
Upon my brindled neck, and tugg'd it down;
Then deep he struck my horn into the sand,
And fell'd my bulk along the dusty land.
Nor yet his fury cool'd; 'twixt rage and scorn,
From my maim'd front he tore the stubborn horn;
This, heap'd with flow'rs, and fruits, the Naiads
bear,

Sacred to plenty, and the beauteous year."

He spoke; when lo, a beauteous nymph appears, Girt like Diana's train, with flowing hairs; The horn she brings in which all autumn's stor'd, And ruddy apples for the second board.

Now morn begins to dawn, the Sun's bright fire Gilds the high mountains, and the youths retire; Nor stay'd they, till the troubled stream subsides, And in its bounds with peaceful current glides. But Achelous in his oozy bed

Deep hides his brow deform'd, and rustic head:
No real wound the victor's triumph show'd,
But his lost honours griev'd the watry god;
Yet ev❜n that loss the willow's leaves o'erspread,
And verdant reeds, in garlands, bind his head.

THE DEATH OF NESSUS THE CENTAUR.

THIS virgin too, thy love, O Nessus, found, To her alone you owe the fatal wound. As the strong son of Jove his bride conveys, Where his paternal lands their bulwarks raise; Where from her slopy urn Evenus pours Her rapid current, swell'd by wintry show'rs, He came. The frequent eddies whirl'd the tide, And the deep rolling waves all pass deny'd. As for himself, he stood unmov'd by fears, For now his bridal charge employ'd his cares. The strong-limb'd Nessus thus officious cry'd, (For he the shallows of the stream had try'd)

Swim thou, Alcides, all thy strength prepare, On yonder bank I'll lodge thy nuptial care."

Th' Aonian chief to Nessus trusts his wife, All pale, and trembling for her hero's life: Cloth'd as he stood in the fierce lion's hide, The laden quiver o'er his shoulder ty'd, (For cross the stream his bow and club were cast) Swift he plung'd in; "These billows shall be past," [glide, He said, nor sought where smoother waters But stem'd the rapid dangers of the tide. Te bank he reach'd; again the bow he bears; When, hark! his bride's known voice alarms his "Nessus, to thee I call," aloud he cries, [ears. "Vain is thy trust in flight, be timely wise: Thou monster double-shap'd, my right set free; If thou no rev'rence owe my fame and me, Yet kindred should thy lawless lust deny. Think not, perfidious wretch, from me to fly, Though wing'd with horse's speed; wounds shall pursue:"

Swift as his words the fatal arrow flew:
The Centaur's back admits the feather'd wood,
And through his breast the barbed weapon stood;
Which when, in anguish, through the flesh he
torc,

As first the fire with frankincense he strows,
And utters to the gods his holy vows;
And on the marble altar's polish'd frame
Pours forth the grapy stream; the rising flame
Sudden dissolves the subtle pois'nous juice,
Which taints his blood, and all his nerves bedews.
With wonted fortitude be bore the smart,
And not a groan confess'd his burning heart.
At length his patience was subdu'd by pain,
He rends the sacred altar from the plain;
Œte's wide forests echo with his cries:
Now to rip off the deathful robe he tries.
Where'er he plucks the vest, the skin he tears,
The mangled muscles and huge bones he bares,
(A ghastful sight!) or raging with his pain,
To rend the sticking plague he tugs in vain.
As the red iron hisses in the flood,
So boils the venom in his curdling blood.
Now with the greedy flame his entrails glow,
And livid sweats down all his body flow;
The cracking nerves burnt up are burst in twain,
The lurking venom melts his swimming brain.
Then, lifting both his bands aloft, he cries,
Glut thy revenge, dread empress of the skies;
Sate with my death the rancour of thy heart,
Look down with pleasure, and enjoy my smart.
Or, if e'er pity mov'd a hostile breast,
(For here I stand thy enemy profest)
Take hence this hateful life, with tortures torn,
Inur'd to trouble, and to labours born.
Death is the gift most welcome to my woe,
And such a gift a stepdame may bestow.
Was it for this Busiris was subdu'd, [blood?
Whose barb'rous tempies reek'd with strangers'
Press'd in these arms his fate Antras found,
Nor gain'd recruited vigour from the ground.
Did I not triple-form'd Geryon fell?
Or did I fear the triple dog of Hell?

From both the wounds gush'd forth the spumy
Mix'd with Lernæan venom; this he took,
Nor dire revenge his dying breast forsook.
His garment, in the recking purple dy'd,
To rouse love's passion, he presents the bride.

THE DEATH OF HERCULES.

Now a long interval of time succeeds,
When the great son of Jove's immortal deeds,
And step-daine's hate, had fill'd Earth's utmost
round;

He from Echalia, with new laurels crown'd,
In triumph was return'd. He rites prepares,
And to the king of gods directs his pray'rs;
When Fame (who falsehood clothes in truth's
disguise,

And swells her little bulk with growing lyes)
Thy tender ear, O Deianira, mov'd,

That Hercules the fair lole lov'd.
Her love believes the tale; the truth she fears
Of his new passion, and gives way to tears.
The flowing tears diffus'd her wretched grief,
66 Why seek I thus, from streaming eyes, relief?"
She cries; "indulge not thus these fruitless cares,
The harlot will but triumph in thy tears:
Let something be resolv'd, while yet there's time;
My bed not conscious of a rival's crime.
In silence shall I mourn, or loud complain?
Shall I seek Calydon, or here remain?
What though ally'd to Meleager's fame,

I boast the honours of a sister's name?
My wrongs, perhaps, now urge me to pursue
Şome despirate deed, by which the world shall
view

How far revenge, and woman's rage, can rise,
When welt'ring in her blood the harlot dies."
Thus various passions ruled by turns her breast.
She now resolves to send the fatal vest,
Dy'd with Lernæan gore, whose pow'r might
His soul anew, and rouse declining love. [move
Nor knew she what her sudden rage bestows,
When she to Lychas trusts her future woes.
With soft endearments she the boy commands
To bear the garment to her husband's hands.

Th' unwitting hero takes the gift in haste,
And o'er his shoulders Lerna's poison cast.

Did not these hands the bull's arm'd forehead
Are not our mighty toils in Elis told? [hold?
Do not Stymphalian lakes proclaim thy fame?
And fair Parthenian woods resound thy name?
Who seiz'd the golden belt of Thermodon?
And who the dragon-guarded apples won?
Could the fierce Centaur's strength my force
withstand,

Or the fell boar that spoil'd th' Arcadian land?
Did not these arms the Hydra's rage subdue,
Who from his wounds to double fury grew?
What if the Thracian horses, fat with gore,
Who human bodies in their mangers tore,
I saw, and with their barb'rous lord o'erthiew?
What if these hands Nemæa's lion slew?
Did not this neck the heav'nly globe sustain?
The female partner of the thund'rer's reign
Fatigu❜d, at length suspends her harsh coinmands,
Yet no fatigue hath slack'd these valiant hands.
But now new plagues pursue me : neither force,
Nor arms, nor darts can stop their raging course,
Devouring flame through my rack'd entrails strays,
And on my lungs and shrivel'd muscles preys;
Yet still Eurystheus breathes the vital air.
What mortal now shall seek the gods with pray’r?”

THE TRANSFORMATION OF LYCHAS INTO A

ROCK.

THE hero said; and with the torture stung, Furious o'er Ete's lofty hills he sprung. Stuck with the shaft, thus scours the tiger round, And seeks the flying author of his wound.