VOL. II.

The Eighth Book.

Nisus betrayed to Minos by his daughter Scylla; changed to a falcon, and Scylla to a lark. Return of Minos to Crete. The Minotaur and labyrinth. Flight of Dædalus and Icarus. Change of Perdix to a partridge. Chase and death of the Calydonian boar, by Meleager and Atalanta. Murder of Meleager's uncles. Vengeance of his mother. Death of Meleager, and transformation of his sisters to birds. Acheloüs. Nymphs transformed into the isles Echinades. Perimelè into an island. Story of Baucis and Philemon. Changes of Proteus. Story of Erisichthon, and transformations of his daughter.

Printed by G. Hayden,
Brydges Street, Covent Garden.

THE
Eighth Book
OF THE
METAMORPHOSES
OF
OVID.

Now leading Phosphor' shining day disclos'd,
The darkness flying; and the eastern gales
Lull'd into calm, the vapoury clouds arose:
The placid south befriending, rapid borne,
The hero Cephalus, and aiding troops,
Ride unexpected in their wish'd-for port.

Minos, meanwhile, the Lelegeian coast
Lays waste, and on Alcathoë's town his power
Essays. Here Nisus rul'd, whose reverend locks
Of silvery brightness, in the midst contain'd
One with rich purple splendid, sacred pledge
Of fortune to his kingdom. Six times seen
Were Luna's horns arising fresh renew'd;
Still hover'd conquest doubtful o'er the war,
On wavering pinions, 'twixt opposing hosts.
A regal tower its vocal walls high-rear'd,
Where once Latona's son his golden lyre
Rested; the music still the stones retain'd.
Oft here the beauteous daughter of the king
Ascended, and the latent music drew
Forth to the ear, by smallest pebbles struck.
Thus she in peaceful times, and here she oft
When war was raging, ventur'd: hence she saw
The rough encounters of the furious field.
So long the tedious warfare, well she knew
The leaders' names, their arms, their prancing steeds:
And knew their garments, and their Cretan bows.
Far beyond all Europa's son she knew,
More than became her state: this Minos well
Could prove; whose head in crested helmet hid,
Most beauteous helm'd appear'd: whose arm, adorn'd
With brazen shield refulgent, well became
The brazen shield: whose hand the tough lance whirl'd,
And back withdrawn, the virgin wondering prais'd
Such strength and skill combin'd: to fit the dart
When to the spreading bow his strength he bent,
She vow'd that Phœbus in such posture stood
His arrows fitting: when, his brazen casque
Relinquish'd, all his features shone display'd,
As purple-rob'd his snow-white steed he press'd,
In painted housings gay, and curb'd his jaws
White foaming,—then the lost Nisean maid,
Scarcely herself, in frantic rapture spoke:—
Blest call'd the javelin, that his hands it touch'd;
Blest call'd the reins he curb'd. Arduous she burns,
(Could she) through hostile ranks her virgin steps
To bend: arduous she burns, from loftiest towers
To fling her body in the Cretan camp.
The brazen portals of the city's walls
Wide to the foe she'd ope: what could she not?
That Minos will'd? As resting here she view'd,
The white pavilion of the Gnossian king
Dubious, she cry'd;—“Or should I grieve or joy,
“This mournful war to witness? Grieve I must
“That Minos so belov'd should be my foe.
“But had the war not been, his lovely face
“Had ne'er to me been known. Now war may cease
“Should I become the hostage:—I retain'd,
“As Minos' comrade, and the pledge of peace.
“Fairest of forms! if she who brought thee forth
“Resembled thee, well might an amorous god
“Burn for her beauty. O! thrice blest were I,
“If borne through air on lightly-waving wings,
“The Cretan monarch's camp I might explore,
“And there, my rank and love disclos'd, demand
“What dowry he would ask to be my spouse.
“My country's towers alone, he should not seek.
“Perish the joys of his expected bed,
“Ere I through treason gain them! Yet full oft
“A moderate victor's clemency affords
“Great blessings to the vanquish'd. Doubtless, he
“Just warfare wages for his murder'd son.
“Strong in his cause, and in his armies strong,
“Which aid that cause, he must the conquest gain.
“Why, if this fate my country waits, should war,
“And not my love unbar to him the gates?
“So may he conquer; slaughter, toil, and blood,—
“His own dear blood, avoided. How I dread,
“Lest some rash hand might that lov'd bosom wound!
“None but the ignorant sure, the savage spear
“At him would hurl. The scheme delights my soul:
“Fixt my resolve; my country as my dower
“Will I deliver, finish so the war!
“But what are resolutions? Watchful guards
“The passes keep; of every gate, the keys
“My father careful holds. Hapless! I dread
“My father only; he alone withstands
“My wishes; would that so the gods had doom'd,
“I had no parent! But to each himself
“A god may surely be; and fortune spurns
“Lazy beseechers. With such love inflam'd,
“Another maid had long ere now destroy'd
“All barriers to her bliss; and why than I,
“Should any dare more boldly? Fearless, I
“Thro' swords and flames would pass, but swords and flames
“Oppose me not in this: my sole desire
“Compris'd in one small lock of Nisus' hair:
“Than gold that prize more dear. That purple lock
“Most blest would make me, and my sole desires
“Encompass.”—Speaking thus, the gloomy night,
Imperial nurse of cares, approach'd; more bold
Her daring project with the darkness grew.

Now primal slumbers rul'd o'er weary breasts,
Tir'd with their toil diurnal. Silent, she
Her father's chamber enters, and (O, dire!)
The daughter from her parent's head divides
The fateful lock! Her wicked prize possess'd,
Forth from the gate she issues; and the spoil,
So cursed, with her bears; as through the hosts,
(Such boldness gave the deed,) she seeks the king,
Whom thus, astonish'd and aghast, she hails:—
“To wicked deeds love sways; behold me here,
“Scylla, from royal Nisus sprung; to thee
“My household gods and country I betray:
“Thee, sole reward I seek. Pledge of my faith,
“This purple lock receive, and with this lock
“Receive my parent's head.”—Then in her hand
The impious gift presented. Minos spurn'd
The parricidal present; deeply shock'd
A deed so base to witness, and exclaim'd;—
“May all the gods, from every part of earth
“Thee banish, scandal of our age! may land
“And sea alike reject thee; such a soul
“So monstrous! ne'er with me shall touch the shores
“Of Crete, my land, and cradle of high Jove.”
He said, and on his captive foes impos'd
Most just his equal laws; his men bade loose
Their cables from the beach, and with their oars
His vessels bright with brass, urge on the deep.