When thus the chiefs from diff'rent lands refort
T Adraftus' realms, and hofpitable court;
The king furveys his guests with curious eyes,
And views their arms and habit with furprize.
Alion's yellow fkin the Theban wears,
Horrid his mane, and rough with curling hairs;
Such once employ'd` Alcides' youthful toils,
E'er yet adorn'd with Nemea's dreadful fpoils.
A boar's ftiff hide, of Calydonian breed,
Qenides' manly fhoulders overfpread,
Oblique his tufks, erect his briftles ftood,
Alive, the pride and terror of the wood.

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Struck with the fight, and fix'd in deep amaze,

575

The king th' accomplifi'd oracle furveys,
Reveres Apollo's vocal caves, and owns
The guiding godhead, and his future fons.
O'er all his bofom fecret tranfports reign,
And a glad horror fhoots thro' ev'ry vein.
To heav'n he lifts his hands, erects his fight,
And thus invokes the filent queen of night.

580

Goddess of fhades, beneath whofe gloomy reign
Yon' fpangled arch glows with the starry train:
You who the cares of heav'n and earth allay,
Till nature quicken'd by the inspiring ray

585

Wakes to new vigour with the rifing day.
Oh thou who freeft me from my doubtful ftate,

Long loft and wilder'd in the maze of fate!
Be prefent ftill, oh goddess! in our aid;
Proceed, and firm those omens thou haft made.
We to thy name our annual rites will pay,
And on thy altars facrifices lay;

590

The fable flock fhall fall beneath the ftroke,
And fill thy temples with a grateful smoke.
Hail, faithful Tripos! hail, ye dark abodes
Of awful Phoebus: I confefs the gods!

Thus, feiz'd with facred fear, the monarch pray'd;
Then to his inner court the guests convey'd

595

Where

Where yet thin fumes from dying sparks arife,
And duft yet white upon each altar lies,
The relicks of a former facrifice.

The king once more the folemn rites requires,
And bids renew the feafts, and wake the fires.
His train obey, while all the courts around
With noify care and various tumult found.
Embroider'd purple clothes the golden beds ;
This flave the floor, and that the table fspreads;
A third difpels the darkness of the night,
And fills depending lamps with beams of light;
Here loaves in canisters are pil'd on high,

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Stretch'd on rich carpets, on his iv'ry throne;
A lofty couch receives each princely gueft;
Around, at awful diftance, wait the reft.

And there, in flames the flaughter'd victims fry.
Sublime in regal ftate, Adraftus fhone,

615

And now the king, his royal feast to grace, Aceftis calls, the guardian of his race,

Who firft their youth in arts of virtue train'd,
And their ripe years in modeft grace maintain❜d.
Then foftly whisper'd in her faithful ear,
And bade his daughters at the rites appear.

When from the clofe apartments of the night,

The royal nymphs approach divinely bright;
Such was Diana's, fuch Minerva's face;

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Nor fhine their beauties with fuperior grace,
But that in thefe a milder charm endears,
And lefs of terror in their looks appears.
As on the heroes first they caft their eyes,
O'er their fair cheeks the glowing blushes rise,
Their down-caft looks a decent fhame confefs'd,
Then, on their father's rev'rend features reft.

630

The banquet done, the monarch gives the fign,
To fill the goblet high with fparkling wine,
Which Danaus us'd in facred rites of old,
With fculpture grac'd, and rough with rifing gold.

635

VOL. I.

Ff

Here

Here to the clouds victorious Perfeus flies;
Medufa feems to move her languid eyes,

}

And ev❜n in gold, turns paler as the dies.
There from the chace Jove's tow'ring eagle bears
On golden wings, the Phrygian to the ftars;
Still as he rifes in th' æthereal height,

640

His native mountains leffen to his fight;
While all his fad companions upward gaze,
Fix'd on the glorious fcene in wild amaze;
And the fwift hounds, affrighted as he flies,
Run to the shade, and bark against the skies. '.
This golden bowl with gen'rous juice was crown'd,
The firft libations fprinkled on the ground:
By turns on each celeftial pow'r they call;

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650

With Phoebus' name refounds the vaulted hall.
The courtly train, the ftrangers, and the reft,

Crown'd with chafte laurel, and with garlands drefs'd, While with rich gums the fuming altars blaze,

Salute the god in num'rous hymns of praise.

655

Then thus the king: Perhaps my noble guefts,

Thefe honour'd altars, and these annual feafts
To bright Apollo's awful name defign'd,

Unknown, with wonder may perplex your mind.
Great was the caufe; our old folemnities
From no blind zeal or fond tradition rife;
But fav'd from death, our Argives yearly pay
Thefe grateful honours to the god of day.

660

When by a thousand darts the Python flain ·
With orbs unroll'd lay covering all the plain,
(Transfix'd as o'er Caftalia's ftreams he hung,
And fuck'd new poifons with his triple tongue)
To Argos' realms the victor god reforts,
And enters old Crotopus' humble courts.
This rural prince one only daughter bleft,
That all the charms of blooming youth poffefs'd;
Fair was her face, and spotlefs was her mind,
Where filial love with virgin fweetness join'd.

665

670

Happy!

fide

Happy! and happy ftill she might have prov'd,
Were fhe lefs beautiful, or lefs belov'd !
But Phoebus lov'd, and on the flow'ry
Of Nemea's ftream, the yielding fair enjoy'd ;
Now, e'er ten moons their orb with light adorn,
Th' illuftrious offspring of the god was born.
The nymph, her father's anger to evade,
Retires from Argos to the fylvan fhade,
To woods and wilds the pleafing burden bears,
And trufts her infant to a fhepherd's cares.

How mean a fate, unhappy child is thine?
Ah how unworthy thofe of race divine?
On flow'ry herbs in fome green covert laid,
His bed the ground, his canopy the fhade,
He mixes with the bleating lambs his cries,
While the rude fwain his rural mufic tries,
To call foft flumbers on his infant eyes.
Yet ev'n in those obfcure abodes to live,
Was more, alas! than cruel fate would give,
For on the graffy verdure as he lay,
And breath'd the freshness of the early day,
Devouring dogs the helpless infant tore,

Fed on his trembling limbs, and lapp'd the gore.
Th' aftonish'd mother, when the rumour came,
Forgets her father, and neglects her fame,
With loud complaints fhe fills the yielding air,
And beats her breaft, and rends her flowing hair;
Then wild with anguish to her fire she flies;
Demands the fentence, and contented dies.

But touch'd with forrow for the deed, too late,
The raging god prepares t'avenge her fate,
He fends a monfter, horrible and fell,
Begot by furies in the depths of hell.

The peft a virgin's face and bofom bears;

High on her crown a rifing fnake appears,
Guards her black front, and hiffes in her hairs:

Ff2

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695

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705

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About

About the realm fhe walks her dreadful round,
When night with fable wings o'erfpreads the ground,
Devours young babes before their parent's eyes,
And feeds and thrives on public miferies..

But gen'rous rage the bold Choroebus warms,
Chorcebus, fam'd for virtue, as for arms;
Some few like him, infpir'd with martial flame,
Thought a fhort life well loft for endless fame.
Thefe, where two ways in equal parts divide,
The direful monfter from afar discry'd ;

710

715

Two bleeding babes depending at her fide;

720

Whose panting vitals, warm with life, fhe draws,

And in their hearts embrues her cruel claws.

The youth furround her with extended fpears;
But brave Chorcebus in the front appears,
Deep in her breaft he plung'd his fhining sword,
And hell's dire monfter back to hell reftor'd.
Th' Inachians view the flain with vaft furprize,
Her twifting volumes, and her rolling eyes,
Her fpotted breaft, and gaping womb embru'd
With livid poifon, and our children's blood.
The croud in ftupid wonder fix'd appear,
Pale ev'n in joy, nor yet forget to fear.
Some with vaft beams the fqualid corps engage,
And weary all the wild efforts of rage,

The birds obfcene, that nightly flock'd to taste,
With hollow fcreeches fled the dire repaft;
And ravenous dogs, allur'd by fcented blood,
And ftarving wolves, ran howling to the wood,
But fir'd with rage, from cleft Parnaffus' brow.
Avenging Phoebus' bent his deadly bow,
And hiffing flew the feather'd fates below;
A night of fultry clouds involv'd around

The tow'rs, the fields, and the devoted ground :
And now a thousand lives together fled,
Death with his fcythe cut off the fatal thread,
And a whole province in his triumph led.