A thousand others of immortal fame;
Among the rest fair Atalanta came,
Grace of the woods: a diamond buckle
bound

Her vest behind, that else had flow'd upon the ground,

And shew'd her buskin'd legs; her head was bare,

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But for her native ornament of hair,
Which in a simple knot was tied above:
Sweet negligence! unheeded bait of love!
Her sounding quiver on her shoulder tied,
One hand a dart, and one a bow supplied.
Such was her face, as in a nymph dis-
play'd

A fair fierce boy, or in a boy betray'd
The blushing beauties of a modest maid.
The Calydonian chief at once the dame
Beheld, at once his heart receiv'd the flame,
With heav'ns averse. "O happy youth," he
cried,

"For whom thy fates reserve so fair a bride!'

He sigh'd, and had no leisure more to say; His honor call'd his eyes another way, And fore'd him to pursue the now neg

lected prey.

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There stood a forest on a mountain's brow, Which overlook'd the shaded plains below. No sounding ax presum'd those trees to

bite;

Beats down the trees before him, shakes the ground;

The forest echoes to the crackling sound; Shout the fierce youth, and clamors ring around.

All stood with their protended spears prepar'd;

With broad steel heads the brandish'd weapons glar'd.

The beast impetuous with his tusks aside Deals glancing wounds; the fearful dogs divide:

All spend their mouth aloof, but none abide.

Echion threw the first, but miss'd his mark, And stuck his boar-spear on a maple's bark. Then Jason; and his javelin seem'd to take, But fail'd with overforce, and whizz'd above his back.

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And his red eyeballs roll with living fire. Whirl'd from a sling, or from an engine

thrown,

Amid the foes, so flies a mighty stone, As flew the beast; the left wing put to flight,

The chiefs o'erborne, he rushes on the right. Empalamos and Pelagon he laid

In dust, and next to death, but for their fellows' aid.

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Onesimus far'd worse, prepar'd to fly;
The fatal fang drove deep within his thigh,
And cut the nerves; the nerves no more
sustain

The bulk; the bulk unpropp'd falls headlong on the plain.

Nestor had fail'd the fall of Troy to see; But, leaning on his lance, he vaulted on a tree;

Then gath'ring up his feet, look'd down with fear,

Meantime the virgin huntress was not slow

T'expel the shaft from her contracted bow: Beneath his ear the fasten'd arrow stood, And from the wound appear'd the trickling blood.

She blush'd for joy; but Meleagros rais'd His voice with loud applause, and the fair archer prais'd.

He was the first to see, and first to show His friends the marks of the successful blow.

"Nor shall thy valor want the praises due," He said; a virtuous envy seiz'd the crew. They shout; the shouting animates their hearts,

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Thus Theseus cried: "O stay, my better part,

My more than mistress; of my heart, the heart:

The strong may fight aloof; Ancæus tried His force too near, and by presuming died." He said, and, while he spake, his javelin threw:

Hissing in air th' unerring weapon flew; But on an arm of oak, that stood betwixt The marksman and the mark, his lance he fix'd.

Once more bold Jason threw, but fail'd to wound

The boar, and slew an undeserving hound;

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On the strong neck of that destructive beast; And, gazing on the nymph with ardent eyes, "Accept," said he, "fair Nonacrine, my prize;

And, tho' inferior, suffer me to join

My labors, and my part of praise, with thine: "

At this presents her with the tusky head And chine, with rising bristles roughly spread.

Glad, she receiv'd the gift; and seem'd to take

With double pleasure, for the giver's sake. The rest were seiz'd with sullen discontent, And a deaf murmur thro' the squadron went: All envied; but the Thestyan brethren show'd

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Within her soul; at last 't was rage alone; Which burning upwards in succession dries The tears that stood consid'ring in her eyes.

There lay a log unlighted on the hearth: When she was lab'ring in the throes of birth For th' unborn chief, the Fatal Sisters came, And rais'd it up, and toss'd it on the flame: Then on the rock a scanty measure place Of vital flax, and turn'd the wheel apace; And turning sung: "To this red brand and thee,

O newborn babe, we give an equal destiny:"

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So vanish'd out of view. The frighted dame Sprung hasty from her bed, and quench'd the flame:

The log, in secret lock'd, she kept with care; And that, while thus preserv'd, preserv'd

her heir.

This brand she now produc'd; and first she

strows

The hearth with heaps of chips, and after blows;

Thrice heav'd her hand, and heav'd, she

thrice repress'd:

The sister and the mother long contest, Two doubtful titles in one tender breast; And now her eyes and cheeks with fury glow,

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Now pale her cheeks, her eyes with pity flow; Now low'ring looks presage approaching storms,

And now prevailing love her face reforms. Resolv'd, she doubts again; the tears she

dried

With burning rage are by new tears supplied;

And as a ship, which winds and waves

assail,

Now with the current drives, now with

the gale,

Both opposite, and neither long prevailShe feels a double force; by turns obeys

A mother's bowels burn." High in her hand, Thus while she spoke, she held the fatal brand;

Then thrice before the kindled pile she bow'd,

And the three Furies thrice invok'd aloud: "Come, come, revenging sisters, come and view

A sister paying her dead brothers' due:
A crime I punish, and a crime commit;
But blood for blood, and death for death is
fit;

Great crimes must be with greater crimes repaid,

And second funerals on the former laid. Let the whole household in one ruin fall, And may Diana's curse o'ertake us all. Shall fate to happy Eneus still allow One son, while Thestius stands depriv'd of two?

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Perish this impious, this detested son;
Perish his sire, and perish I withal;
And let the house's heir and the hop'd king-
dom fall.

"Where is the mother fled, her pious love, And where the pains with which ten months I strove !

Ah! hadst thou died, my son, in infant years, Thy little hearse had been bedew'd with

tears.

At this, for the last time she lifts her hand, Averts her eyes, and half unwilling drops the brand.

The brand, amid the flaming fuel thrown, Or drew, or seem'd to draw, a dying groan; The fires themselves but faintly lick❜d their

prey,

Then loath'd their impious food, and would have shrunk away.

Just then the hero cast a doleful cry, And in those absent flames began to fry: The blind contagion rag'd within his veins, But he with manly patience bore his pains; He fear'd not fate, but only griev'd to die Without an honest wound, and by a death so dry.

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Happy Ancæus," thrice aloud he cried, "With what becoming fate in arms he

died!"

Then call'd his brothers, sisters, sire, around, And her to whom his nuptial vows were

bound;

Perhaps his mother; a long sigh he drew,

By steel her stubborn soul his mother freed, And punish'd on herself her impious deed.

Had I a hundred tongues, a wit so large As could their hundred offices discharge; Had Phoebus all his Helicon bestow'd, In all the streams inspiring all the god; Those tongues, that wit, those streams, that god in vain

Would offer to describe his sisters' pain. 380 They beat their breasts with many a bruising blow,

Till they turn'd livid, and corrupt the snow. The corpse they cherish, while the corpse

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As envying any else should share a part
Of what was his, and claiming all her heart.
At length, as public decency requir'd,
And all his vassals eagerly desir'd,
With mind averse, he rather underwent
His people's will than gave his own consent.
So was she torn as from a lover's side,
And made almost in his despite a bride.

Short were her marriage joys, for in the prime

Of youth her lord expir'd before his time; And, to her father's court in little space Restor❜d anew, she held a higher place; More lov'd, and more exalted into grace. This princess, fresh and young, and fair and wise,

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The worship'd idol of her father's eyes,
Did all her sex in ev'ry grace exceed,
And had more wit beside than women need.