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She stopp'd, and fighing: Oh good gods! fhe cry'd,

What pangs, what fudden fhoots, diftend my fide!
Of for that tempting fruit, fo fresh, so green;
Help, for the love of heaven's immortal Queen!
Help, dearest lord, and fave at once the life
Of thy poor infant, and thy longing wife!

Sore figh'd the knight to hear his lady's cry,
But could not climb, and had no fervant nigh:
Old as he was and void of eye-fight too,
What could, alas a helpless husband do?
And must I languish then, the faid, and die,
Yet view the lovely fruit before my eye?
At least, kind Sir, for charity's fweet fake,
Vouchsafe the trunk between your arms to take;
Then from your back I might afcend the tree;
Do you but ftoop, and leave the rest to me.

With all my foul, he thus reply'd again,
I'd spend my dearest blood to ease thy pain.
With that, his back against the trunk he bent,
She feiz'd a twig, and up the tree she went.

Now prove your patience, gentle ladies all!
Nor let on me your heavy anger fall:
'Tis truth I tell, though not in phrase refin'd;
Though blunt my tale, yet honeft is my mind.
What feats the lady in the tree might do,
1 pafs, as gambols never known to you;
But fure it was a merrier fit, fhe swore,
Than in her life fhe ever felt before.

In that nice moment, lo! the wondering knight

Look'd out, and flood reftor'd to fudden fight.
Straight on the tree his eager eyes he bent,
As one whose thoughts were on his spouse intent;
But when he faw his bofom-wife fo dreff'd,
His rage was such as cannot be exprefs'd;
Not frantic mothers when their infants die,
With louder clamours rend the vaulted sky:
He cry'd, he roar'd, he ftorm'd, he tore his hair;
Death! hell! and furies what doft thou do there?
What ails my lord? the trembling dame re-
ply'd;

I thought your patience had been better try'd:
Is this your love, ungrateful and unkind,
This my reward for having cur'd the blind?
Why was I taught to make my husband fee,
By ftruggling with a man upon a tree?
Did I for this the power of magic prove?
Unhappy wife, whofe crime was too much love!
If this be ftruggling, by this holy light,
'Tis ftruggling with a vengeance (quoth the
knight):

So Heaven preferve the fight it has reftor'd;
As with thefe eyes I plainly faw thee whor'd;
Whor'd by my slave-perfidious wretch! may
hell

As furely feize thee, as I faw too well!

Guard nie, good angels! cry'd the gentle May, Prav heaven, this magic work the proper way! Alas, my love: 'tis certain, could you fee, You'er had us'd thefe killing words to me: So help me, fates, as 'tis no perfe& fight, But fome faint glimmering of a doubtful light. What I have faid (quoth he) I must maintain, For by th' immortal powers it feem'd too plain

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Signs of remorse, while thus his spouse he cheer'd:
Madam, 'tis paft, and my fhort anger o'er;
Come down, and vex your tender heart no more :
Excufe me, dear, if aught amifs was faid,
For, on my foul, amends fhall foon be made :
Let my repentance your forgiveness draw,
By heaven, I fwore but what I thought I faw.
Ah, my lov'd lord! 'twas much unkind (she
cry'd)

On bare fufpicion thus to treat your bride.
But, till your fight's establish'd, for a while,
Imperfect objects may your fenfe beguile.
Thus when from fleep we firft our eyes difplay,
The balls are wounded with the piercing ray,
And dufky vapours rife, and intercept the day.
So, juft recovering from the fhades of night,
Your fwimming eyes are drunk with fudden
light,
[your fight:
Strange phantoms dance around, and skim before.
Then, Sir, be cautious, nor too rashly deem ;
Heaven knows how feldom things are what they

feem!

Conful: your reason, and you foon shall find
'Twas you were jealous, not your wife unkind:
Jove ne'er fpoke oracle more true than this,
None judge fo wrong as those who think amifs.

With that the leap'd into her lord's embrace,
With well-diffembled virtue in her face.
He hugg'd her clofe, and kifs'd her o'er and o'er,
Diflurb'd with doubts and jealoufies no more :
Both, pleas'd and bless'd, renew'd their mutual

Vows,

A fruitful wife, and a believing spouse.

Thus ends our tale; whofe moral next to make, Let all wife husbands hence example take; And pray, to crown the pleasure of their lives, To be fo well deluded by their wives.

THE WIFE OF BATH,

HER PROLOGUE.

FROM CHAUCER.

EzHOLD the woes of matrimonial life,
And hear with reverence an experienc'd wife!
To dear-bought wifdom give the credit due,
And think, for once, a woman tells you true.
In all thefe trials I have borne a part,

I was myfe if the fcourge that caus'd the smart;
For, fince fifteen, in triumph have I led
Five captive hufbands from the church to bed.

Chrift faw a wedding once, the fcripture fays, And faw but one, 'us thought, in all his days;

Whence fome infer, whofe confcience is too nice, No pious Chriftian ought to marry twice.

But let them read, and folve me, if they can, The words addrefs'd to the Samaritan: Five times in lawful wedlock fhe was join'd; And fure the certain stint was ne'er defin'd. "Increase and multiply," was heaven's command,

And that's a text I clearly understand.

This too, "Let men their fires and mothers leave,
And to their dearer wives for ever cleave."
More wives than one by Solomon were try'd,
Or elfe the wifeft of mankind's bely'd.
I've had myself full many a merry fit;
And truft in heaven, I may have many yet,
For when my tranfitory fpoufe, unkind,
Shall die, and leave his woeful wife behind,
I'll take the next good Chriftian I can find.

Paul, knowing one could never ferve our turn,
Declar'd 'twas better far to wed than burn.
There' danger in assembling fire and tow;
I grant them that, and what it means you know.
The fame apostle too has elsewhere own'd,
No precept for virginity be found :
Tis but a counfel-and we women still
Take which we like, the counfel, or our will.
Leavy not their blifs, if he or she
Think fit to live in perfect chastity; .
Pure let them be, and free from taint of vice;
1, for a few flight fpets, am not so nice.
Heaven calls us different ways, on these bestows
One proper gift, another grants to thofe :
Not every man's obliged to fell his store,
And give up all his fubftance to the poor;
Such as are perfe&t may, I can't deny ;
But, by your leaves, divines, fo am not I.

Fal many a faint, fince first the world began,
Liv'd an unfpotted maid, in fpite of man:
Let fuch (a-God's paine) with fine wheat be fed,
And let us honeft wives eat barley bread.
For me, I'll keep the poft affign'd by heaven,
And ule the copious talent it has given :
Let my good fpoufe pay tribute, do me right,
And keep an equal reckoning every night.
His proper body is not his, but mine;
For fo faid Paul, and Paul's a sound divine.
Know then, of thofe five husbands I have had,
Three were just tolerable, two were bad.
The three were old, but rich and fond befide,
And toil'd moft piteously to please their bride:
But fince their wealth (the best they had) was
mine,

The reft, without much lofs, I could refign.
Sare to be lov'd, I took no pains to pleale,
Yet had more pleasure far than they had ease.
Prefents flow'd in apace: with fhowers of gold,
They made their court, like Jupiter of old.
If 1 bat fmil'd, a fudden youth they found,
And a new palfy feiz'd them when I frown'd.
Ye fovereign wives! give ear and understand,
Thus fhall ye fpeak, and exercise command.
For never was it given to mortal man,
To lie fo boldly as we women can:
Forfwear the fact, though feen with both his
And call your maids to witnels how he lies,

[eyes,

Hark, old Sir Paul! ('twas thus I-us'd to fay)
Whence is our neighbour's wife fo rich and gay?
Treated, carefs'd, where'er fhe's pleas'd to roam-
I fit in tatters, and immur'd at home.
Why to her house dost thou so oft repair
Art thou fo amorous? and is fhe fo fair?
If I but fee a cousin or a friend,

Lord! how you fwell, and rage like any fiend!
But you reel home, a drunken beastly bear,
Then preach till midnight in your easy chair;
Cry, wives are falfe, and every woman evil
And give up all that 's female to the devil.

If poor (you fay) she drains her husband's purfe; If rich, the keeps her prieft, or fomething worse; If highly born, intolerably vain,

Vapours and pride by turns poffefs her brain,
Now gayly mad, now fourly fplenetic;
Freakish when well, and fretful when the 's fick.
If fair, then chafte fhe cannot long abide,
By preffing youth attack'd on every fide;
If foul, her wealth the lufty lover lures,
Or else her wit fome fool-gallant procures,
Or elfe the dances with becoming grace,
Or fhape excufes the defects of face.
There fwims no goofe fo grey, but, foon or late,
She finds fome honeft gander for her mate.

Horfes (thou fay'ft) and affes men may try,
And ring fufpected veffels ere they buy:
But wives, a random choice, untry'd they take;
They dream in courtship, but in wedlock wake:
Then, nor till then, the veil's removed away,
And all the woman glares in open day.

You tell me, to preferve your wife's good grace,
Your eyes must always languifh on my face,
Your tongue with conftant flatteries feed my ear,
And tag each sentence with, My life my dear!
If. by strange chance, a modeft blush be rais'd,
Be fure my fine complexion must be prais'd.
My garments always must be new and gay,
And feafts ftill kept upon my wedding day.
Then must my nurse be pleas'd, and favourite
maid;

And endless treats, and endless vifits paid,
To a long train of kindred, friends, allies.
All this thou fay'ft, and all thou fay'ft are lics.

On Jenkin too you caft a fquinting eye:
What! can your 'prentice raife your jealoufy?
Fresh are his ruddy cheeks, his forehead fair,
And like the burnish'd gold his curling hair.
But clear thy wrinkled brow, and quit thy forrow,
I'd fcorn your 'prentice, fhould you die to-mor

row.

Why are thy chefts all lock'd? on what defign? Are not thy worldly goods and treasure mine? Sir, I'm no fool; nor fhall you, by St. John, Have goods and body to yourself alone. One you shall quit, in fpite of both your eyesI heed not, I, the bolts, and locks and spies. you had wit, you'd say, "Go where you will, "Dear spouse, I credit not the tales they tell : "Take all the freedoms of a married life; "I know thee for a virtuous, faithful wife." Lord! when you have enough, what need you

If

care

How merrily foever others fare?

Though all the day I give and take delight,
Doubt not fufficient will be left at night.
'Tis but a juft and rational defire,
To light a taper at a neighbour's fire.

There's danger too, you think, in rich array,
And none can long be modest that are gay.
The cat, if you but finge her tabby skin,
The chimney keeps, and fits content within;
But once grown fleek, will from her corner run,
Sport with her tail, and wanton in the fun;
She licks her fair round face, and frifks abroad,
To fhew her fur, and to be catterwàw'd.

Lo thus, my friends, I wrought to my defires Thefe three right ancient venerable fires. I told them, thus you fay, and thus you do, And told them falfe, but Jenkin fworé 'twas true. J, like a dog, could bite as well as whine, And first complain'd, whene'er the guilt was mine.

t

I tax'd them oft with wenching and amours. When their weak legs fcarce dragg'd them out of doors;

And fwore the rambles that I took by night,
Were all to fpy what damfels they bedight.
That colour brought me many hours of mirth;
For all this wit is given us from our birth.
Heaven gave to women the peculiar grace,
To fpin, to weep, and culiy human race.
By this nice conduct, and this prudent course,
By murmuring, wheedling, stratagem, and force,
I ftill prevail'd, and would be in the right,
Or curtain-lectures made a reftlefs night.
If once my husband's aim was o'er my fide,
What! fo familiar with your spouse? 1 cry'd:
I levied firft a tax upon his need:
Then let him-'twas a nicety indeed!
Let all mankind this certain maxim hold,
Marry who will, our fex is to be fold.
With empty hands no taffels you can lure,
But fulfome love for gain we can endure;
For gold we love the impotent and old,
And heave, and pant, and kifs, and cling, for
gold,

Yet with embraces, curfes oft I mix'd,

Then kifs'd again, and chid, and rail'd betwixt.
Well, I may make my will in peace, and die.
For not one word in man's arrears am I.
'To drop a dear difpute I was unable,
Ev'n though the Pope himfelf had fat at table.
But when my point was gain'd, then thus Ifpoke:
Billy, my dear, how sheepishly you look!

86

Approach, my spoufe, and let me kifs thy check; Thou should it be always thus, refign'd and

"meek!

"Of Job's great patience fince fo oft you preach, "Well fhould you practife, who fo well can teach, 'Tis difficult to do, I must allow,

"But I, my deareft, will inftruct you how. Great is the biefling of a prudent wife, "Who puts a period to domeftic ftrife. "One of us two muft rule, and ene obey; "And fince in man right reafon bears the fway, "Letthat frail thing,weakwoman, have her way.. "The wives of all my family have rul'd "Their tender husbands, and their passions cool'd.

"Fy, 'tis unmanly thus to figh and groan stone?

heart.

"What! would you have me to yourfelf a "Why take me love! take all and every part! "Here's your revenge you love it at your "Would I vouchfafe to feli what nature gave, "You little think what custom I could have, “But fee I'm all your own-nay hold-for fbame; [blame." "What means my dear-indeed you are Thus with my first three lords I past my life; A very woman, and a very wife. What fums from thefe old fpoufes I could raife, Procur'd young hufbands in my riper days Though paft my bloom, not yet decay'd was I, Wanton and wild, and chatter'd like a pie. In country dances ftill I bore the bell, And fung as [weet as evening Philomel. To clear my quailpipe, and refresh my foul, Full oft I drain'd the spicy nut brown bowl; Rich lufcious wines, that youthful blood improve, And warm the fwelling veins to feats of love; For 'tis as fure, as cold engenders hail, A liquorith mouth must have a lecherous tail Wine lets no lover unrewarded go, As all true gamefters by experience know.

But oh good gods! whene'er a thought I cast On all the joys of youth and beauty past, To find in pleafures I have had my part, Still warms me to the bottom of my heart. This wicked world was once my dear delight; Now all my conquefts, all my charms, good night The flour confum'd the best that now I can, Ise'n to make my market of the bran

My fourth dear spouse was not exceeding true;
He kept, 'twas thought, a private mifs or two;
But all that score I paid-as how? you'll fay,
Not with my body, in a filthy way:

But I fo drefs'd, and danc'd, and drank, and din'd
And view'à a friend with eyes fo very kind,
As ftung his heart, and made his marrow fry
With burning rage, and frantic jealousy,
His foul, I hope, enjoys eternal glory,
For here on earth I was his purgatory.
Oft, when his fhoe the most feverely wrung,
He put on careless airs, and fat and fung.
How fore gall'd him, only heaven could know,
And He that felt, and I that caus'd the woe.
He dy'd, when last from pilgrimage 1 came,
With other goflips, from Jerufalem;
And now lies buried underneath a rood,
Fair to be feen, and rear'd of honest wood:
A tomb indeed, with fewer fculptures grac'd
Than that Maufolus' pious widow piac'd,
Or where infrin'd the great Darius lay;
But coft on graves is merely thrown away.
The pit fill'd up, with turf we cover'd o'er;
So bleft the good man's soul, I say no more.

Now for my fifth lov'd lord, the last and best;
(Kind heaven afford him everlasting reft!)
Fui! hearty was his love, and I can show

The token on my ribe in black and blue;
Yet, with a knack, my heart he could have won,
While yet the Imart was shooting in the bone.
How quaint an appetite in women reigns!
Free gifts we fcorn, and love what costs as pains:

Let mes avoid us, and on them we leap;
A glatted market makes provifion cheap.

la pure good will I took this jovial (park,
Of Oxford he, a most egregious clerk.
He boarded with a widow in the town,
A trufty goflip, one dame Allison.
Full well the fecrets of my foul she knew,
Better than e'er our parish-priest could do.
To her I told whatever could befall:
Had but my husband piss'd against a wall,
Or done a thing that might have coft his life,
She-and my niece-and one more worthy wife,
Had known it all: what most he would conceal,
To these I made no fcruple to reveal.

Oft has he blush'd from ear to ear for shame,
That c'er he told a fecret to his dame.

It fo befel, in holy time of Lent,
That oft á day I to this goflip went
(My husband, thank my ftars, was out of town);
From houfe to house we rambled up and down,
This clerk, myself, and my good neighbour Alse,
To fee, be feen, to tell, and gather tales,
Vifits to every church we daily paid,
And march'd in every holy masquerade,
The stations duly and the vigils kept;
Not much we fafted, but fcarce ever flept.
At fermons too I fhone in fcarlet gay;
The wasting moths ne'er spoil'd my beft
array
The caufe was this, I wore it every day.
'Twas when fresh May her early bloffom yields,
This clerk and I were walking in the fields,
We grew fo intimate, I can't tell how,

I pawn'd my honour, and engag'd my vow,
If e'er I laid my husband in his urn,
That he, and only he, should serve my turn.
We ftraight ftruck hands, the bargain was agreed;
I fill have thifts against a time of need :
The mouse that always trufts to one poor hole,
Can never be a moufe of any foul.

I vow'd, I fcarce could fleep fince first I knew
him,

}

And durst be fworn he had bewitch'd me to him;
If e'er I flept, I dream'd of him alone,
And dreams foretel, as learned men have shown.
All this I faid; but dreams, firs, I had none;
I follow'd but my crafty crony's lore,
Who bid me tell this lie-and twenty more.
Thus day by day, and month by month we paft;
It pleas'd the Lord to take my spouse at last.
I tore my gown, I foil'd my locks with duft,
And beat my breafts, as wretched widows-muft.
Before my face my handkerchief I spread,
To hide the flood of tears I did not shed.
The good man's coffin to the church was borne;
Around, the neighbours, and my clerk too, mourn.
But as he march'd, good gods! he show'd a pair
Of legs and feet, so clean, so strong, so fair!
Of twenty winters age he seem'd to be;
1 (to fay truth) was twenty more than he ;
But vigorous ftill, a lively buxom dame;
And had a wonderous gift to quench a flame.
A conjuror once, that deeply could divine,
Affor'd me, Mars in Taurus was my sign.
As the stars order'd, fuch my life has been:
Alas, alas, that ever love was fin!

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Fair Venus gave me fire and fprightly grace,
And Mars affurance and a dauntless face.
By virtue of this powerful conftellation,
follow'd always my own inclination.

But to my tale: A month fcarce pass'd away,
With dance and fong we kept the nuptial day.
All poffefs'd I gave to his command,
My goods and chattels, money, house, and land
But oft repented, and repent it ftill;

He prov'd a rebel to my foverign will:
Nay once, by heaven, he ftruck me on the face;
Hear but the fact, and judge yourselves the cafe,
Stubborn as any lionefs was 1;

And knew full well to raise my voice on high;
Ás true a rambler as i was before,

And would be fo, in fpite of all he fwore.
He against this right fagely would advise,
And old examples fet before my eyes,
Tell how the Roman matrons led their life,
Of Gracchus' mother, and Duilius' wife;
And close the fermon, as befeem'd his wit,
With fome grave fentence out of holy writ.
Oft would he fay, who builds his house on fands,
Pricks his blind horfe across the fallow lands;
Or lets his wife abroad with pilgrims roam,
Deferves a fool's cap, and long ears at home.
All this avail'd not; for whoe'er he be
That tells my faults, I hate him mortally;
And fo do numbers more, I boldly fay,
Men, women, clergy, regular, and lay.

My fpoufe (who was, you know, to learning
bred)

A certain treatise oft at evening read,
Where divers authors (whom the devil confound
For all their lies), were in one volume hound.
Valerius, whole: and of St. Jerome, part;
Chryfippus and Tertullian, Ovid's art,
Solomon's Proverbs, Eloifa's loves;

And many more than fure the church approves.
More legends were there here of wicked wives,
Than good in all the Bible and faints lives.
Who drew the lion vanquish'd? 'Twas a man.
But could we women write as fcholars can, [nefs,
Men fhould stand mark'd with far more wicked-
Than all the fons of Adam could redrefs.
Love feldom haunts the breast where learning lies,
And Venus fets e'er Mercury can rise.
Those play the scholars, who can't play the men,
And ufe that weapon which they have, their peni
When old, and past the relish of delight,
Then down they fit, and in their dotage write,
That not one woman keeps her marriage vow.
(This by the way, but to my purpose now).

It chanc'd my husband, on a winters night,
Read in his book, aloud, with strange delight,
How the first female (as the Scriptures show)
Brought her own fpoufe, and all his race, to woe.
How Samfon fell; and he whom Dejanire
Wrapp'd in th' envenom'd shirt, and set on fire.
How curs'd Eryphile her lord betray'd,
And the dire ambufh Clytemnestra laid.
But what most pleas'd him was the Cretan dame,
And hufband-bull-oh, monftrous fie for fhame!
He had by heart the whole detail of woe
Xantippe made her good man undergo;

How oft fhe fcolded in a day, he knew,
How many pifs-pots on the fage the threw;
Who took it patiently, and wip'd his head;
"Rain follows thunder," that was all he said.
He read, how Arius to his friend complain'd,
A fatal tree was growing in his land,
On which three wives fucceffively had twin'd
A fliding noofe, and waver'd in the wind.
Where grows this plant (reply'd the friend), oh,
where?

For better fruit did never orchard bear.
Give me fome flip of this moft blissful tree,
And in my garden planted shall it be.

[prove,

Then how two wives their lords' deftruction Through hatred one, and one through too much love; That for her husband mix'd a poisonous draught, And this for luft an amorous philtre bought: 'The nimble juice foon feiz'd his giddy head, Frantic at night, and in the morning dead.

How fome with fwords their fleeping lords have flain,

And fome have hammer'd nails into their brain, And fome have drench'd them with a deadly potion; All this he read, and read with great devotion.

Long time I heard, and fwell'd, and blush'd,
and frown'd:

But when no end of these vile tales I found,
When still he read, and laugh'd, and read again,
And half the night was thus confum'd in vain ;
Provok'd to vengeance, three large leaves I tore,
And with one buffet fell'd him on the floor.
With that my husband in a fury role,
And down he fettled me with hearty blows.
I groan'd, and lay extended on my side;
Oh! thou haft flain me for my wealth (I cry'd),
Yet I forgive thee-take my last embrace--
He wept, kind foul! and stoop'd to kiss my face,
I took him fuch a box as turn'd him blue,
Then figh'd and cry'd, adieu, my dear, adieu!
But after many a hearty ftruggle past,
I condefcended to be pleas'd at laft.
Soon as he faid, my mistress and my wife,
Do what you lift, the term of all your life;
I took to heart the merits of the cause,
And.flood content to rule by wholefome laws;
Receiv'd the reins of abfolute command,
With all the government of house and land,
And empire o'er his tongue, and o'er his hand.
As for the volume that revil'd the dames,
'Twas torn to fragments, and condem'd to flames.
Now heaven on all my husbands gone bestow
Pleasures above, for tortures felt below:
That reft they wish'd for, grant them in the grave,
And blefs thofe fouls my conduct help'd to fave!

THE FIRST BOOK OF

STATIUS HIS THEBAIS.

Tranflated in the Year 1703.

THE ARGUMENT.

put out his own eyes, and refigned the realm to his fons, Eteocles and Polynices. Being neglected by them, he makes his prayer to the fury Tifiphone, to fow debate betwixt the brothers. They agree at laft to reign fingly, each a year by turns, and the first lot is obtained by Eteocles. Jupiter, in a council of the gods, declares his refolution of punishing the Thebans, and Argives alfo, by means of a marriage betwixt Polynices and one of the daughters of Adraftus King of Argos. Juno oppofes, but to no effect; and Mercury is fent on a meffage to the Shades, to the ghost of Laïus, who is to appear to Eteocles, and provoke him to break the agreement. Polynices in the mean time departs from Thebes by night, is overtaken by a ftorm, and arrives at Argos; where he meets with Tydeus, who had fled from Calydon, having killed his brother. Adraftus entertains them, having received an oracle from Apollo, that his daughters fhould be married to a boar and a lion, which he underftands to be meant of these strangers, by whom the hides of those beafts were worn, and who arrived at the time when he kept an annual feaft in honour of that god. The rife of this folem nity he relates to his guefts, the loves of Phœbus and Pfamathe, and the ftory of Chorebus. He inquires, and is made acquainted with their defcent and quality. The facrifice is renewed, and the book concludes with a hymn to Apollo. [The tranflator hopes he need not apologife for his choice of this piece, which was made almoft in his childhood; but, finding the verfion better than he expected, he gave it fome correction a few years afterwards.]

FRATERNAL rage, the guilty Thebes alarms,
The alternate reign destroy'd by impious arms
Demand our fong; a facred fury fires
My ravish'd breast, and all the mufe infpires.
O, goddefs, fay, shall I deduce my rhymes
From the dire nation in its early times,
Europa's rape, Angenor's ftern decree,
And Cadmus fearching round the fpacious fea?
How with the ferpent's teeth he fow'd the foil,
And reap'd an iron harvest of his toil?
Or how from joining ftones the city sprung,
While to his harp divine Amphion fung?
Or fhall I Juno's hate to Thebes refound,
Whole fatal rage th' unhappy monarch found?
The fire against the fon his arrows drew,
O'er the wide fields the furious mother flew,
And while her arms a fecond hope contain,
Sprung from the rocks, and plung'd into the main.

But wave whate'er to Cadmus may belong,
And fix, O, mufe! the barrier of thy song
At Oedipus-from his difafters trace
The long confufions of his guilty race:
Nor yet attempt to ftretch thy bolder wing,
And mighty Cæfar's conquering eagles fing;
How twice he tam'd proud Ifter's rapid flood,
While Dacian mountains ftream'd with barbaroya
blood;

OEDIPUS King of Thebes, having by miftake flain Twice taught the Rhine beneath his laws to roll,

his father Laïus, and married his niother Jocasta, |,

And firetch'd his empire to the frozen pole a

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