Her hoofs to hands return, in little space;
The five long taper fingers take their place; And nothing of the heifer now is feen, Befide the native whiteness of her skin. Erected on her feet she walks again, And two the duty of the four sustain.
She tries her tongue, her filence foftly breaks, And fears her former lowings when the speaks: A goddess now through all the Egyptian state; And ferv'd by priests, who in white linen wait. Her fon was Epaphus, at length believ'd The fon of Jove, and as a god receiv'd. With facrifice ador'd, and public prayers, 1045 He common temples with his mother shares. Equal in years, and rival in renown With Epaphus, the youthful Phaëton, Like honour claims, and boafts his fire the Sun.
His haughty looks, and his affuming air, 1050 The fon of Ifis could no longer bear: Thou tak'ft thy mother's word too far, faid he, And haft ufurp'd thy boasted pedigree. Go, bafe pretender to a borrow'd name!
Thus tax'd, he blush'd with anger, and with
But shame reprefs'd his rage: the daunted
Soon feeks his mother, and enquires the truth:
Mother, faid he, this infamy was thrown By Epaphus on you, and me your fon.
He spoke in publick, told it to my face; 1060 Nor durft I vindicate the dire difgrace:
Ev'n I, the bold, the fenfible of wrong, Restrain'd by fhame, was forc'd to hold my tongue.
To hear an open flander, is a curse:
But not to find an anfwer, is a worse. If I am heaven-begot, affert your By fome fure fign; and make my father known,
To right my honour, and redeem your own. He faid, and faying caft his arms about Her neck, and begg'd her to refolve the doubt. 'Tis hard to judge if Clymené were mov'd More by his prayer, whom the fo dearly lov❜d, Or more with fury fir'd, to find her name Traduc'd, and made the sport of common fame. She ftretch'd her arms to heaven, and fix'd her
On that fair planet that adorns the skies ; Now by those beams, faid fhe, whofe holy fires Confume my breaft, and kindle my defires; By him who fees us both, and chears our fight, By him, the public minifter of light, I fwear that Sun begot thee: if I lye, Let him his chearful influence deny :
Let him no more this perjur'd creature fee, And shine on all the world but only me. If ftill you doubt your mother's innocence, 1085 His eastern manfion is not far from hence; With little pains you to his levee go, And from himself your parentage may know. With joy the ambitious youth his mother heard, And eager for the journey foon prepar'd. 1090 He longs the world beneath him to furvey; To guide the chariot, and to give the day: From Meroë's burning fands he bends his course,
Nor lefs in India feels his father's force; His travel urging, till he came in fight, And faw the palace by the purple light.
OUT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK OF
CONNECTION TO THE FORMER STORY.
Ovid, having told how Thefeus had freed Athens from the tribute of children, which was impofed on them by Minos, king of Creta, by killing the Minotaur, here makes a digreffion to the story of Meleager and Atalanta, which is one of the most inartificial connections in all the Metamorphofes : for he only fays, that Thefeus obtained fuch honour from that combat, that all Greece had recourfe to him in their neceffities; and, amongst others, Calydon, though the hero of that country, prince Meleager, was then living.
FROM him the Caledonians fought relief; Though valiant Meleagrus was their chief. The caufe, a boar, who ravag'd far and near, Of Cynthia's wrath the avenging minifter. For Oeneus with autumnal plenty blefs'd, By gifts to heaven his gratitude exprefs'd:
Cull'd fheafs, to Ceres; to Lyæus, wine; To Pan, and Pales, offer'd sheep and kine; And fat of olives, to Minerva's fhrine. Beginning from the rural gods, his hand Was liberal to the powers of high command: Each deity in every kind was blefs'd,
Till at Diana's fane the invidious honour ceas'd. Wrath touches ev'n the gods; the queen of
Fir'd with difdain, and jealous of her right, 15 Unhonour'd though I am, at least, said she, Not unreveng'd that impious act shall be. Swift as the word, the sped the boar away, With charge on thofe devoted fields to prey. No larger bulls the Ægyptian paftures feed, 20 And none fo large Sicilian meadows breed: His eye-balls glare with fire, fuffus'd with blood; His neck shoots up a thick fet thorny wood; His briftled back a trench impal'd appears, And ftands erected, like a field of fpears. Froth fills his chaps, he fends a grunting found, And part he churns, and part befoams the ground.
For tufks with Indian elephants he strove, And Jove's own thunder from his mouth he
He burns the leaves; the fcorching blast in
The tender corn, and fhrivels up the blades:
« НазадПродовжити » |