CANACE TO MACAREUS,

EPIST. XI.

THE ARGUMENT.

The

Macareus and Canace, fon and daughter to Eolus, god of the Winds, loved each other incestuously: Canace was delivered of a fon, and committed him to her nurse, to be fecretly conveyed away. infant crying out, by that means was difcovered to Eolus, who, inraged at the wickedness of his children, commanded the babe to be expofed to wild beafts on the mountains: and withal, fent a fword to Canace, with this message, That her crimes would inftruct her how to use it. With this ford fhe flew herself: but before fhe died, she writ the following letter to her brother Macareus, who had taken fanctuary in the temple of Apollo.

IF ftreaming blood my fatal letter ftain,
Imagine, ere you read, the writer flain;
One hand the fword, and one the pen employs,
And in my lap the ready paper lies.

Think in this posture thou behold'st me write : 5
In this my cruel father would delight.

O! were he prefent, that his eyes and hands Might fee, and urge, the death which he commands!

Than all the raging winds more dreadful, he, Unmov'd, without a tear, my wounds would

fee.

Jove juftly plac'd him on a ftormy throne,
His people's temper is fo like his own.
The North and South, and each contending
blaft,

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Are underneath his wide dominion caft:
Thofe he can rule; but his tempeftuous mind
Is, like his airy kingdom, unconfin'd.
Ah! what avail my kindred gods above,
That in their number I can reckon Jove!
What help will all my heav'nly friends afford,
When to my breast I lift the pointed fword? 20
That hour, which join'd us, came before its

time:

In death we had been one without a crime. Why did thy flames beyond a brother's move? Why lov'd I thee with more than fifter's love? For I lov'd too; and, knowing not my wound,

A fecret pleasure in thy kiffes found:

My cheeks no longer did their color boaft,

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My food grew loathfome, and my ftrength I

loft:

Still ere I spoke, a figh would stop my tongue; Short were my flumbers, and my nights were

long.

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I knew not from my love thefe griefs did grow,
Yet was, alas, the thing I did not know.
My wily nurse, by long experience, found,
And firft difcover'd to my foul its wound.
"Tis love, faid fhe; and then my down-caft

eyes,

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And guilty dumbnefs, witnefs'd my furprize. Forc'd at the laft, my fhameful pain I tell : And, oh, what follow'd we both know too well! "When half denying, more than half content, "Embraces warm'd me to a full confent, "Then with tumultuous joys my heart did beat, "And guilt, that made them anxious, made them great."

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But now my fwelling womb heav'd up my breast, And rifing weight my finking limbs oppreft. What herbs, what plants, did not my nurfe produce,

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To make abortion by their pow'rful juice?
What medicines try'd we not, to thee unknown?
Our firft crime common; this was mine alone.
But the strong child, fecure in his dark cell,
With nature's vigor did our arts repel.
And now the pale-fac'd emprefs of the night
Nine times had fill'd her orb with borrow'd

light:

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Not knowing 'twas my labor, I complain
Of fudden shootings, and of grinding pain:
My throes came thicker, and my cries in-
creas'd,

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Which with her hand the confcious nurse fup

prefs'd.

To that unhappy fortune was I come,

Pain urg'd my clamors, but fear kept me dumb. With inward struggling I reftrain'd my cries, And drunk the tears that trickled from my

eyes.

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Death was in fight, Lucina gave no aid;
And even my dying had my guilt betray'd.
Thou cam'ft, and in thy count'nance fate de-

(Preft in thy arms, and whifp'ring me to live :) For both our fakes, (faidft thou) preserve thy

life;

Live, my dear fister, and my dearer wife. Rais'd by that name, with my laft pangs I ftrove: Such pow'r have words, when spoke by thofe we love.

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The babe, as if he heard what thou hadft fworn, With hafty joy fprung forward to be born.

What helps it to have weather'd out one ftorm? Fear of our father does another form.

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High in his hall, rock'd in a chair of state, 75
The king with his tempeftuous council fate.
Through this large room our only paffage lay,
By which we could the new-born babe convey.
Swath'd in her lap, the bold nurse bore him out,
With olive branches cover'd round about;
And, muttering pray'rs, as holy rites fhe meant,
Through the divided croud unqueftion'd went.
Juft at the door, th' unhappy infant cry'd:
The grandfire heard him, and the theft he spy'd.
Swift as a whirlwind to the nurse he flies,
And deafs his ftormy fubjects with his cries.
With one fierce puff he blows the leaves away:
Expos'd the self-discover'd infant lay.
The noife reach'd me, and my prefaging mind
Too foon its own approaching woes divin'd. 90
Not ships at fea with winds are shaken more,
Nor feas themfelves, when angry tempefts roar,
Than I, when my loud father's voice I hear:
The bed beneath me trembled with my fear,
He rush'd upon me, and divulg'd my ftain; 95
Scarce from my murder could his hands refrain.
I only answer'd him with filent tears;

They flow'd: my tongue was frozen up with fears.

His little grand-child he commands away,
To mountain wolves and ev'ry bird of prey. 100