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"Or, if none else, let Jove his fortune try,
"And learn to lay his murdering thunder by;
"Then will he own, perhaps, but own too late,
"My fon deferv'd not so severe a fate."
The gods stand round him, as he mourns, and pray He would refume the conduct of the day,
Nor let the world be loft in endless night :
Jove too himself, descending from his height,
Excufes what had happen'd, and intreats,
Majestically mixing prayers and threats.
Prevail'd upon at length, again he took
The harnafs'd steeds, that still with horror fhook,
And plies them with the lafh, and whips them on,
And, as he whips, upbraids them with his fon.
THE STORY OF CALISTO.
THE day was fettled in its course; and Jove
Walk'd the wide circuit of the heavens above,
To fearch if any cracks or flaws were made;
But all was fafe: the earth he then survey'd,
And caft an eye on every different coast,
And every land; but on Arcadia most.
Her fields he cloath'd, and chear'd her blafted face
With running fountains, and with fpringing graís.
No tracts of heaven's deftructive fire remain;
The fields and woods revive, and nature finiles again
But, as the god walk'd to and fro the earth,
And rais'd the plants, and gave the spring its birth,
By chance a fair Arcadian nymph he view'd,
And felt the lovely charmer in his blood.
The nymph nor fpun, nor drefs'd with artful pride;
Her veft was gather'd up, her hair was ty'd;
Now in her hand a flender fpear she bore,
Now a light quiver on her shoulders wore ;
To chafte Diana from her youth inclin'd,
The sprightly warriors of the wood she join'd.
Diana too the gentle huntress lov'd,
Nor was there one of all the nymphs that rov'd
O'er Mænalus, amid the maiden throng,
More favour'd once; but favour lasts not long.
The fun now fhone in all its strength, and drove
The heated virgin panting to a grove;
The grove around a grateful shadow cast :
She dropt her arrows, and her bow unbrac'd;
She flung herself on the cool graffy bed;
And on the painted quiver rais'd her head.
Jove faw the charming huntress unprepar'd,
Stretch'd on the verdant turf, without a guard.
"Here I am fafe, he cries, from Juno's eye;
"Or should my jealous queen the theft defcry,
"Yet would I venture on a theft like this,
“And hand her rage for fuch, for such a bliss !”
Diana's fhape and habit straight he took,
Soften'd his brows, and smooth'd his awful look,
And mildly in a female accent spoke.
"How fares my girl? How went the morning chace ?" To whom the virgin, starting from the grafs, "All hail, bright deity, whom I prefer
"To Jove himself, though Jove himself were here." The god was nearer than fhe thought, and heard. Well-pleas'd himself before himself preferr'd.
He then falutes her with a warm embrace;
And, ere the half had told the morning chace,
With love inflam'd, and eager on his blifs,
Smother'd her words, and stop'd her with a kiss;.
His kiffes with unwonted ardour glow'd,
Nor could Diana's fhape conceal the God.
The virgin did whate'er a virgin cou'd
(Sure Juno must have pardon'd, had she view'd);
With all her might again his force she ftrove:
But how can mortal maids contend with Jove!
Poffelt at length of what his heart defir'd,
Back to his heavens th' infulting god retir'd.
The lovely huntress, rising from the grafs,
With down-caft eyes, and with a blushing face,
By shame confounded, and by fear difmay'd,
Flew from the covert of the guilty fhade,
And almost, in the tumult of her mind,
Left her forgotten bow and fhafts behind.
But now Diana, with a fprightly train
Of quiver'd virgins, bounding o'er the plain,
Call'd to the nymph? The nymph began to fear
A fecond fraud, a Jove difguis d in her;
But, when the faw the fifter nymphs, fupprefs'd
Her rifing fears, and mingled with the reft.
How in the look does confcious guilt appear!
Slowly the mov`d, and loiter ́d in the rear;
Nor lightly tripp'd, nor by the goddess ran,
As once the us'd, the foremost of the train..
Her looks were flufh'd, and fullen was her mien,
That fure the virgin goddefs (had the been
Aught but a virgin) must the guilt have seen.
Tis faid the nymphs faw all, and guess'd aright:
And now the moon had nine times lost her light,
When Dian fainting, in the mid-day beams,
Found a cool covert, and refreshing ftreams,
That in foft murmurs through the foreft flow'd,
And a finooth bed of fhining gravel show`d.
A covert fo obfcure, and ftreams fo clear,
The goddess prais'd : "And now no fpies are near,
Let's ftrip, my gentle maids, and wash," fhe cries.
Pleas'd with the motion, every maid complies;
Only the blushing huntrefs ftood confus'd,
And form'd delays, and her delays excus'd:
In vain excus'd; her fellows round her prefs'd,
And the reluctant nymph by force undrefs'd.
The naked huntress all her fhame reveal'd,
In vain her hands the pregnant womb conceal'd;
Begone! the goddels cries with ftern difdain,
"Begone! nor dare the hallow'd ftream to ftain;
She fled, for-ever banith'd from the train.
This Juno heard, who long had watch'd her time To punish the detefted rival's crime;
The time was come: for, to enrage her more,
A lovely-boy the teeming rival bore.
The goddess cast a furious look, and cry'd, "It is enough! I'm fully fatisfy'd!
"This boy fhall stand a living mark, to prove "My husband's bafenefs, and the ftrumpet's love: "But vengeance shall awake thofe guilty charms, "That drew the thunderer from Juno's arms, "No longer fhall their wonted force retain, Nor pleafe the god, nor make the mortal vain."
This faid, her hand within her hair fhe wound,
Swung her to earth, and dragg'd her on the ground:
The proftrate wretch lifts up her arms in prayer;
Her arms grow fhaggy, and deform'd with hair,
Her nails are sharpen'd into pointed claws,
Her hands bear half her weight, and turn to paws;
Her lips, that once could tempt a god, begin
To grow distorted in an ugly grin.
And, left the fupplicating brute might reach
The ears of Jove, fhe was depriv'd of speech:
Her furly voice through a hoarfe paffage came
In favage founds: her mind was still the fame.
The furry monfter fix'd her eyes above,
And heav'd her new unweildy paws to Joye,
And begg'd his aid with inward groans; and though She could not call him falfe, fhe thought him fo.
How did the fear to lodge in woods alone,
And haunt the fields and meadows once her own!
How often would the deep-mouth'd dogs purfue,
Whilft from her hounds the frighted huntress flew !
How did fhe fear her fellow brutes, and fhun
The fhaggy bear, though now herself was one!
How from the fight of rugged wolves retire,
Although the grim Lycaon was her fire!
But now her fon had fifteen fummers told,
Fierce at the chace, and in the forest bold;
When, as he beat the woods in queft of prey,
He chanc'd to roufe his mother where the lay.
She knew her fon, and kept him in her fight,
And fondly gaz'd: the boy was in a fright,