The time approached; the next ensuing day
The fatal secret must to light betray.
Then Telethusa had recourse to prayer,
She and her daughter with dishevelled hair;
Trembling with fear, great Isis they adored,
Embraced her altar, and her aid implored.
Fair queen, who dost on fruitful Egypt smile,
Who sway'st the sceptre of the Pharian isle,
And seven-fold falls of disemboguing Nile
Relieve, in this our last distress, she said,
A suppliant mother, and a mournful maid.
Thou, goddess, thou wert present to my sight;
Revealed I saw thee by thy own fair light;
I saw thee in my dream, as now I see,
With all thy marks of awful majesty ;
The glorious train that compassed thee around
And heard the hollow timbrel's holy sound.
Thy words I noted, which I still retain;
Let not thy sacred oracles be vain.
That Iphis lives, that I myself am free
From shame and punishment, I owe to thee.
On thy protection all our hopes depend;
Thy counsel saved us, let thy power defend.
Her tears pursued her words, and, while she spoke,
The goddess nodded, and her altar shook ;
The temple doors, as with a blast of wind,
Were heard to clap; the lunar horns, that bind
The brows of Isis, cast a blaze around;
The trembling timbrel made a murmuring sound.
Some hopes these happy omens did impart;
Forth went the mother with a beating heart,
Not much in fear, nor fully satisfied;
But Iphis followed with a larger stride:
The whiteness of her skin forsook her face;
Her looks emboldened with an awful grace;
Her features and her strength together grew,
And her long hair to curling locks withdrew.
Her sparkling eyes with manly vigour shone;
Big was her voice, audacious was her tone.
The latent parts, at length revealed, began
To shoot, and spread, and burnish into man.
The maid becomes a youth;-no more delay
Your vows, but look, and confidently pay.-
Their gifts the parents to the temple bear;
The votive tables this inscription wear ;-
Iphis, the man, has to the goddess paid
The vows, that Iphis offered when a maid.
Now when the star of day had shown his face,
Venus and Juno with their presence grace
The nuptial rites, and Hymen from above
Descended to complete their happy love;
The gods of marriage lend their mutual aid,
And the warm youth enjoys the lovely maid.
PYGMALION AND THE STATUE.
The Propatides, for their impudent behaviour, being turned into stone by Venus, Pygmalion, Prince of Cyprus, detested all women for their sake, and resolved never to marry. He falls in love with a statue of his own making, which is changed into a maid, whom he marries. One of his descendants is Cinyras, the father of Myrrha; the daughter incestuously loves her own father, for which she is changed into a tree, which bears her name. These two stories immediately follow each other, and are admirably well connected.
PYGMALION, loathing their lascivious life,
Abhorred all womankind, but most a wife;
So single chose to live, and shunned to wed,
Well pleased to want a consort of his bed.
Yet fearing idleness, the nurse of ill,
In sculpture exercised his happy skill;
And carved in ivory such a maid, so fair,
As nature could not with his art compare,
Were she to work; but in her own defence,
Must take her pattern here, and copy hence.
Pleased with his idol, he commends, admires,
Adores; and last, the thing adored desires.
A very virgin in her face was seen,
And, had she moved, a living maid had been:
One would have thought she could have stirred, but
With modesty, and was ashamed to move.
Art, hid with art, so well performed the cheat,
It caught the carver with his own deceit.
He knows 'tis madness, yet he must adore,
And still the more he knows it, loves the more;
The flesh, or what so seems, he touches oft,
Which feels so smooth, that he believes it soft.
Fired with this thought, at once he strained the breast,
And on the lips a burning kiss impressed.
Tis true, the hardened breast resists the gripe,
And the cold lips return a kiss unripe;
But when, retiring back, he looked again,
To think it ivory was a thought too mean;
So would believe she kissed, and courting more,
Again embraced her naked body o'er;
And, straining hard the statue, was afraid
His hands had made a dint, and hurt the maid
Explored her, limb by limb, and feared to find
So rude a gripe had left a livid mark behind.
With flattery now he seeks her mind to move,
And now with gifts, the powerful bribes of love:
He furnishes her closet first; and fills
The crowded shelves with rarities of shells;
Adds orient pearls, which from the conchs he drew,
And all the sparkling stones of various hue;
And parrots, imitating human tongue,
And singing-birds in silver cages hung;
* The parrots are of Dryden's introduction.
And every fragrant flower, and odorous green,
Were sorted well, with lumps of amber laid between;
Rich fashionable robes her person deck;
Pendents her ears, and pearls adorn her neck;
Her tapered fingers too with rings are graced,
And an embroidered zone surrounds her slender waste.
Thus like a queen arrayed, so richly dressed,
Beauteous she showed, but naked showed the best.
Then from the floor he raised a royal bed,
With coverings of Sidonian purple spread;
The solemn rites performed, he calls her bride,
With blandishments invites her to his side,
And as she were with vital sense possessed,
Her head did on a plumy pillow rest.
The feast of Venus came, a solemn day,
To which the Cypriots due devotion pay;
With gilded horns the milk-white heifers led,
Slaughtered before the sacred altars, bled;
Pygmalion, offering, first approached the shrine,
And then with prayers implored the powers divine;--
Almighty Gods, if all we mortals want,
If all we can require, be yours to grant,
Make this fair statue mine,-he would have said,
But changed his words for shame, and only prayed,
Give me the likeness of my ivory maid!
The golden Goddess, present at the prayer,
Well knew he meant the inanimated fair,
And gave the sign of granting his desire;
For thrice in cheerful flames ascends the fire.
The youth, returning to his mistress, hies,
And impudent in hope, with ardent eyes,
And beating breast, by the dear statue lies.
He kisses her white lips, renews the bliss,
And looks and thinks they redden at the kiss
He thought them warm before: nor longer stays,
But next his hand on her hard bosom lays;
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