weigh'd

619

The consequence of what her sire had said,
Fix'd on her fate, against th' expected hour,
Procur'd the means to have it in her pow'r.
For this she had distill'd, with early care,
The juice of simples friendly to despair,
A magazine of death, and thus prepar'd,
Secure to die, the fatal message heard:
Then smil'd severe, nor with a troubled
look

Or trembling hand the fun'ral present took; Ev'n kept her count'nance, when the lid remov'd

Disclos'd the heart, unfortunately lov'd. 630 She needed not be told within whose breast It lodg'd; the message had explain'd the

Which I will pay thee down, before I go, And save myself the pains to weep below, If souls can weep. Tho' once I meant to

meet

My fate with face unmov'd, and eyes unwet,

Yet since I have thee here in narrow room, My tears shall set thee first afloat within thy tomb:

Then (as I know thy spirit hovers nigh)
Under thy friendly conduct will I fly
To regions unexplor'd, secure to share
Thy state; nor hell shall punishment ap-
pear;

And heav'n is double heav'n, if thou art there."

680

700

And thus pursued: "O ever faithful heart,
I have perform'd the ceremonial part,
The decencies of grief; it rests behind,
That, as our bodies were, our souls be join'd;
To thy whate'er abode my shade convey,
And as an elder ghost, direct the way.'
She said; and bade the vial to be brought,
Where she before had brew'd the deadly
draught.

First pouring out the med'cinable bane, The heart her tears had rins'd she bath'd again;

Then down her throat the death securely throws,

And quaffs a long oblivion of her woes. 710 This done, she mounts the genial bed, and there

(Her body first compos'd with honest care) Attends the welcome rest; her hands yet hold

Close to her heart the monumental gold; Nor farther word she spoke, but clos'd her sight,

And quiet sought the covert of the night. The damsels, who the while in silence

mourn'd,

Let me by that adjure thy harden'd breast

Not to deny thy daughter's last request. The secret love which I so long enjoy'd, And still conceal'd, to gratify thy pride, Thou hast disjoin'd; but, with my dying breath,

Seek not, I beg thee, to disjoin our death: Where'er his corpse by thy command is laid, Thither let mine in public be convey'd; 741 Expos'd in open view, and side by side, Acknowledg'd as a bridegroom and a bride."

The prince's anguish hinder'd his reply; And she, who felt her fate approaching nigh,

Seiz'd the cold heart, and heaving to her breast:

"Here, precious pledge," she said, "securely

rest."

These accents were her last; the creeping death

Benumb'd her senses first, then stopp'd her breath.

Thus she for disobedience justly died; 750 The sire was justly punish'd for his pride: The youth, least guilty, suffer'd for th' offense,

Of duty violated to his prince;

Who, late repenting of his cruel deed,
One common sepulcher for both decreed;
Intomb'd the wretched pair in royal state,
And on their monument inscrib'd their

fate.

BAUCIS AND PHILEMON

OUT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES

The author, pursuing the deeds of Theseus, relates how he with his friend Perithous were invited by Achelous, the river god, to stay with him till his waters were abated. Achelous entertains them with a relation of his own love to Perimele, who was chang'd into an island by Neptune at his request. Perithous, being an atheist, derides the legend, and denies the power of the gods to work that miracle. Lelex, another companion of Theseus, to confirm the story of Acheloüs, relates another metamorphosis of Baucis and Philemon into trees; of which he was partly an eye witness.

THUS Achelous ends: his audience hear
With admiration, and, admiring, fear
The pow'rs of heav'n; except Ixion's son,
Who laugh'd at all the gods, believ'd in

One laid aside his thunder, one his rod;
And many toilsome steps together trod;
For harbor at a thousand doors they
knock'd-

Not one of all the thousand but was lock'd.
At last an hospitable house they found,
A homely shed; the roof, not far from
ground,

30

Was thatch'd with reeds and straw together bound.

There Baucis and Philemon liv'd, and there
Had liv'd long married and a happy pair:
Now old in love; tho' little was their
store,

Inur'd to want, their poverty they bore,
Nor aim'd at wealth, professing to be poor.
For master or for servant here to call,
Was all alike, where only two were all.
Command was none, where equal love was
paid,

Or rather both commanded, both obey'd. 40 "From lofty roofs the gods repuls'd be

fore,

Now, stooping, enter'd thro' the little door; The man (their hearty welcome first ex

press'd)

A common settle drew for either guest,
Inviting each his weary limbs to rest.
But ere they sat, officious Baucis lays
Two cushions stuff'd with straw, the seat
to raise;

Coarse, but the best she had; then rakes the load

Of ashes from the hearth, and spreads abroad

The living coals, and, lest they should expire,

50

With leaves and barks she feeds her infant fire:

It smokes, and then with trembling breath she blows,

Till in a cheerful blaze the flames arose. With brushwood and with chips she strengthens these,

And adds at last the boughs of rotten trees.

The fire thus form'd, she sets the kettle on Like burnish'd gold the little seether

She cull'd, and then with handy care she dress'd.

High o'er the hearth a chine of bacon hung:
Good old Philemon seiz'd it with a prong,
And from the sooty rafter drew it down;
Then cut a slice, but scarce enough for one;
Yet a large portion of a little store,
Which for their sakes alone he wish'd were

more.

This in the pot he plung'd without delay, To tame the flesh and drain the salt away. The time between, before the fire they sat, 70 And shorten'd the delay by pleasing chat. "A beam there was, on which a beechen pail

Hung by the handle, on a driven nail: This fill'd with water, gently warm'd, they set

Before their guests; in this they bath'd their feet,

And after with clean towels dried their sweat.

This done, the host produc'd the genial bed,

Sallow the feet, the borders, and the stead,

Which with no costly coverlet they spread,

But coarse old garments; yet such robes as these

80

With liquor of the best the cottage could afford.

This was the table's ornament and pride, With figures wrought: like pages at his side Stood beechen bowls; and these were shining clean,

Vernish'd with wax without, and lin'd within.

By this the boiling kettle had prepar'd
And to the table sent the smoking lard,
On which with eager appetite they dine,
A sav'ry bit, that serv'd to relish wine;
The wine itself was suiting to the rest, 110
Still working in the must, and lately
press'd.

The second course succeeds like that before; Plums, apples, nuts, and, of their wintry store,

Dry figs and grapes, and wrinkled dates

were set

In canisters, t' enlarge the little treat. All these a milk-white honeycomb surround,

Which in the midst the country banquet crown'd.

But the kind hosts their entertainment

A wakeful sentry, and on duty now,
Whom to the gods for sacrifice they vow:
Her, with malicious zeal, the couple view'd;
She ran for life, and, limping, they pursued.
Full well the fowl perceiv'd their bad in

tent,