"'Till Bacchus kindly bid me fear no more;
"With him I landed on the Chian fhore,
“And him shall ever gratefully adore.
"This forging flave," fays Pentheus, "would pre"O'er our just fury by a far-fetch'd tale; [vail "Go, let him feel the whips, the fwords, the fire, "And in the tortures of the rack expire." Th' officious fervants hurry him away, And the poor captive in a dungeon lay; But whilft the whips and tortures are prepar'd, The gates fly open, of themfelves unbarr'd!
At liberty th' unfetter'd captive ftands,
And flings the loosen'd fhackles from his hands. 835
Bur Pentheus, grown more furious than before,
Refolv'd to fend his meffengers no more,
But went himself to the distracted throng,
Where high Citharon echo'd with their fong;
And as the fiery war-horse paws the ground,
And fnorts and trembles at the trumpet's found,
Tranfported thus he heard the frantic rout,
And rav'd and madden'd at the distant shout.
A fpacious circuit on the hill there stood,
Level and wide, and skirted round with wood; 849
Here the rash Pentheus, with unhallow'd eyes,
The howling dames and mystic orgies fpies:
His mother fternly view'd him where he stood,
And kindled into madness as the view'd,
Her leafy jav'lin at her son she cast,
And cries, "The boar that lays our country waste !
“The boar, my Sisters! aim the fatal dart,
"And strike the brindled monster to the heart."
Pentheus astonish'd heard the dismal found,
And fees the yelling matrons gath'ring round; 855
He fees and weeps at his approaching fate,
And begs for mercy, and repents too late.
"Help, help! my aunt Autonöe," he cry'd;
"Remember how your own Acteon dy'd.”
Deaf to his cries, the frantic matron crops
One stretch'd-out arm, the other Ino lops ;
In vain does Pentheus to his mother sue,
And the raw bleeding stumps presents to view:
His mother howl'd, and, heedlefs of his pray'r,
Her trembling hand she twisted in his hair,.. 865
"And this," the cry'd " fhall be Agavè's fhare."
When from the neck his ftruggling head the tore,
And in her hands the ghaftly visage bore,
With pleasure all the hideous trunk survey,
Then pull'd and tore the mangled limbs away,
As starting in the pangs of death it lay.
Soon as the wood its leafy honours casts,
Blown off and fcatter'd by autumnal blasts,
With fuch a fudden death lay Pentheus flain,
And in a thoufand pieces ftrow'd the plain.
By fo diftinguishing a judgment aw'd, The Thebans tremble, and confefs the god.
The ftory of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus.
How Salmacis, with weak enfeebling streams,
Softens the body and unnerves the limbs,
And what the fecret caufe, fhall here be shown;
The cause is fecret, but th' effect is known.
The Naïads nurs'd an infant heretofore,
That Cytherea once to Hermes bore:
From both th' illuftrious authors of his race
The child was nam'd; nor was it hard to trace
Both the bright parents thro' the infant's face.
When fifteen years, in Ida's cool retreat,
The boy had told, he left his native seat,
And fought fresh fountains in a foreign foil ;
The pleasure leffen'd the attending toil.
With eager steps the Lycian fields he croft,
And fields that border on the Lycian coast;
A river here he view'd fo lovely bright,
It fhew'd the bottom in a fairer light,
Nor kept a fand conceal'd from human fight:
The stream produc'd nor flimy ooze nor weeds,
Nor miry rushes nor the spiky reeds,
But dealt enriching moisture all around,
The fruitful banks with cheerful verdure crown'd,
And kept the fpring eternal on the ground.
A nymph prefides, not practis'd in the chase,
Nor fkilful at the bow nor at the race,
Of all the blue-ey'd daughters of the Main,
The only stranger to Diana's train:
Her fifters often, as 'tis said, would cry,
"Fy! Salmacis, what, always idle? fy!
"Or take thy quiver, or thy arrows feize,
"And mix the toils of hunting with thy case.”
Nor quiver the nor arrows e'er would seize,
Nor mix the toils of hunting with her case,
But oft' would bathe her in the crystal tide,
Oft' with a comb her dewy locks divide:
Now in the limpid ftreams fhe view'd her face,
And drefs'd her image in the floting glass:
On beds of leaves the now repos'd her limbs,
Now gather'd flow'rs that grew about her streams,
And then by chance was gath'ring, as she stood 40
To view the boy, and long'd for what the view'd.
Fain would the meet the youth with hafty feet,
She fain would meet him, but refus'd to meet
Before her looks were fet with niceft care,
And well deferv'd to be reputed fair.
"Bright Youth!" The cries, "whom all thy features "A god, and, if a god, the god of Love;
"But if a mortal, blefs'd thy nurse's breaft,
"Biefs'd are thy parents, and thy fifters bleft; "But,oh,howblefs'd! howmore than bless'd! thy bride, "Ally'd in blifs, if any yet ally'd:
"If fo, let mine the ftol'n enjoyment's be; "If not, behold a willing bride in me."
The boy knew nought of love, and, touch'd with He strove, and blush'd, but still the blush became; 55 In rising blushes still fresh beauties rofe;
The funny fide of fruit fuch blushes shows,
And fuch the moon, when all her filver white
Turns in eclipfes to a ruddy light.
The nymph still begs if not a nobler bliss,
A cold falute at least, a fifter's kifs;
And now prepares to take the lovely boy
Between her arms. He, innocently coy,
Replies, "Or leave me to myself alone,
"You rude uncivil nymph! or I'll be gone."
"Fair Stranger! then," fays fhe, "it fhall be fo;"
And, for the fear'd his threats, fhe feign'd to go;
But hid within a covert's neighb'ring green,
She kept him still in fight, herself unfeen.
The boy now fancies all the danger o'er,
And innocently sports about the shore;
Playful and wanton to the ftream he trips,
And dips his foot, and fhivers as he dips..
The coolness pleas'd him, and with eager hafte
His airy garments on the banks he caft;
His godlike features and his heav'nly hue,
And all his beauties, were expos'd to view.
His naked limbs the nymph with rapture spies,
While hotter paffions in her bofom rife,
Flush in her cheeks, and sparkle in her eyes.
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