Nor did the third his conqueft long survive,
Dying ere fcarce he had begun to live.
The dire example ran through all the field,
"Till heaps of brothers were by brothers kill'd;
The furrows fwam in blood: and only five
Of all the vaft increase were left alive.
Echion one, at Pallas's command,
Let fall the guiltlefs weapon from his hand;
And with the rest a peaceful treaty makes,
Whom Cadmus as his friends and partners takes;
So founds a city on the promis'd earth,
And gives his new Baotian empire birth.
Here Cadmus reign'd ; and now one would have guess'd
The royal founder in his exile bleft:
Long did he live within his new abodes,
Ally'd by marriage to the deathless Gods;
And, in a fruitful wife's embraces old,
A long increase of children's children told:
But no frail man, however great or high,
Can be concluded bleft before he die.
Acton was the firft of all his race,
Who griev'd his grandfire in his borrow'd face;
Condemn'd by ftern Diana to bemoan
The branching horns, and visage not his own;
To fhun his once-lov'd dogs, to bound away,
And from their huntfman to become their
And yet confider why the change was wrought,
You'll find it his misfortune, not his fault;
Or if a fault, it was the fault of chance:
For how can guilt proceed from ignorance ?
The Transformation of ACTE ON to a Stag.
In a fair chace a fhady mountain stood,
Well ftor'd with game, and mark'd with trails of blood.
Here did the huntsmen 'till the heat of day
Pursue the stag, and load themselves with prey;
When thus Acteon calling to the reft:
My friends, fays he, our sport is at the beft. "The fun is high advanc'd, and downward sheds "His burning beams directly on our heads; "Then by confent abstain from further spoils, "Call off the dogs, and gather up the toils; "And ere to-morrow's fun begins his race,
"Take the cool morning to renew the chace."
They all confent, and in a chearful train
The jolly huntfmen, loaden with the flain,
Return in triumph from the fultry plain.
Down in a vale with pine and cypress clad,
Refresh'd with gentle winds, and brown with fhade,
The chafte Diana's private haunt, there stood
Full in the centre of the darkfom wood
A fpacious grotto, all around o'er-grown
With hoary mofs, and arch'd with pumice-stone,
From out its rocky clefts the waters flow,
And trickling fwell into a lake below.
Nature had every where so play'd her part,
That every where she seem'd to vie with art.
Here the bright goddefs, toil'd and chaf'd with heat,
Was wont to bathe her in the cool retreat.
Here did fhe now with all her train resort,
Panting with heat, and breathless from the sport;
Her armour-bearer laid her bow afide,
Some loos'd her fandals, fome her veil unty'd;
Each bufy nymph her proper part undreft;
While Crocalè, more handy than the rest,
Gather'd her flowing hair, and in a noose
Bound it together, whilft her own hung loose.
Five of the more ignoble fort by turns
Fetch up the water, and unlade their urns.
Now all undreft the fhining goddess stood,
When young Acteon, wilder'd in the wood,
To the cool grot by his hard fate betray'd,
The fountains fill'd with naked nymphs furvey'd.
The frighted virgins fhriek'd at the surprise,
(The foreft echo'd with the piercing cries)
Then in a huddle round their goddess preft:
She, proudly eminent above the reft,
With blushes glow'd; fuch blushes as adorn
The ruddy welkin, or the purple morn:
And tho' the crowding nymphs her body hide,
Half backward fhrunk, and view'd him from afide.
Surpriz'd, at firft fhe would have fnatch'd her bow,
But fees the circling waters round her flow;
Thefe in the hollow of her hand he took,
And dafh'd 'em in his face, while thus fhe fpoke:
"Tell, if thou canft, the wondrous fight difclos'd;
"A goddefs naked to thy view expos'd."
This faid, the man began to disappear
By flow degrees, and ended in a deer.
A rising horn on either brow he wears,
And stretches out his neck, and pricks his ears;
Rough is his skin, with fudden hairs o'er-grown,
His bofom pants with fears before unknown.
Transform'd at length, he flies away in haste,
And wonders why he flies away fo fast.
But as by chance, within a neighb'ring brook,
He faw his branching horns and alter'd look,
Wretched Acteon! in a doleful tone
He try'd to speak, but only gave a groan;
And as he wept, within the wat'ry glass
He faw the big round drops, with filent pace,
Run trickling down a favage hairy face.
What fhould he do? Or feek his old abodes,
Or herd among the deer, and fculk in woods?
Here fhame diffuades him, there his fear prevails,
And each by turns his aking heart affails.
As he thus ponders, he behind him fpies
His opening hounds, and now he hears their cries:
A gen'rous pack, or to maintain the chace,
Or fnuff the vapour from the scented grass.
He bounded off with fear, and swiftly ran
O'er craggy mountains, and the flow'ry plain;
Through brakes and thickets forc'd his way, and flew
Through many a ring, where once he did pursue.
In vain he oft endeavour'd to proclaim
His new misfortunes, and to tell his name;
Nor voice nor words the brutal tongue fupplies;
From shouting men, and horns, and dogs he flies,
Deafen'd and ftun'd with their promifcuous cries.
When now the fleeteft of the pack, that preft
Close at his heels, and fprung before the rest,
Had faften'd on him, ftraight another pair
Hung on his wounded haunch, and held him there,
Till all the pack came up, and ev'ry hound
Tore the fad huntsman grov'ling on the ground,
Who now appear'd but one continu'd wound.
With dropping tears his bitter fate he moans,
And fills the mountains with his dying groans.
|