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Swath'd in her lap, the bold nurfe bore him out,
With olive branches cover'd round about;
And, mutt'ring pray'rs, as holy rites she meant,
Thro 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 stormy subjects with his cries.
With one fierce puff he blows the leaves away:
Expos'd the self-discover'd infant lay.
The noise reach'd me, and my prefaging mind
Too foon its own approaching woes divin'd.
Not ships at fea with winds are shaken more,
Nor feas themselves, 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 stain;
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.
The babe cry'd out, as if he understood,

And begg'd his pardon with what voice he could.

By what expreffions can my grief be shown?
(Yet you may guess my anguifh by your own)
To fee my bowels, and, what yet was worse,
Your bowels too, condemn'd to fuch a curfe!
Out went the king; my voice its freedom found,
By breafts I beat, my blubber'd cheeks I wound.
And now appear'd the meffenger of death;
Sad were his looks, and fcarce he drew his breath,
To fay, "Your father fends you"-- (with that word
His trembling hands prefented me a sword :)
"Your father fends you this; and lets you know,
"That your own crimes the ufe of it will fhow."
Too well I know the fenfe those words impart:
His prefent fhall be treasur'd in my heart.
Are these the nuptial gifts a bride receives?
And this the fatal dow'r a father gives?
Thou God of Marriage, thun thy own disgrace,
And take thy torch from this detefted place:
Inftead of that, let furies light their brands,
And fire my pile with their infernal hands.
With happier fortune may my fifters wed ;
Warn'd by the dire example of the dead.
For thee, poor babe, what crime could they pretend?
How could thy infant innocence offend?
A guilt there was; but, oh, that guilt was mine!
Thou fuffer'ft for a fin that was not thine.

Thy mother's grief and crime! but just enjoy'd,
Shewn to my fight, and born to be destroy'd!
Unhappy offspring of my teeming womb!
Drag'd headlong from thy cradle to thy tomb!
Thy un-offending life I could not fave,
Nor weeping could I follow to thy grave:
Nor on thy tomb could offer my fhorn hair;
Nor fhew the grief which tender mothers bear.
Yet long thou shalt not from my arms be lost;
For foon I will o'ertake thy infant ghoft.
But thou, my love, and now my love's defpair,
Perform his fun'rals with paternal care.
His scatter'd limbs with my dead body burn;
And once more join us in the pious urn.
If on my wounded breast thou dropp'st a tear,
Think for whofe fake my breast that wound did

bear;

And faithfully my last defires fulfil,
As I perform my cruel father's will.

EPIST. XVII.

THE ARGUMENT.

Helen, having received an epiftle from Paris, returns the following anfwer: wherein she seems at first to chide him for his prefumption in writing as he had done, which could only proceed from his low opinion of her virtue; then owns berself to be fenfible of the paffion, which he had expreffed for ber, tho fe much fufpected his conftancy; and at laft difcovers her inclination to be favourable to him: the whole letter fhewing the extreme artifice of womankind.

WHE

HEN loofe epiftles violate chafte eyes,
She half confents, who filently denies.
How dares a stranger, with defigns fo vain,
Marriage and hofpitable rights prophane?
Was it for this, your fleet did shelter find
From fwelling feas, and ev'ry faithless wind?
(For tho a distant country brought you forth,
Your ufage here was equal to your worth.)

L

Does this deserve to be rewarded fo?

Did

you come here a ftranger or a foe? Your partial judgment may perhaps complain, And think me barb'rous for my just disdain. Ill-bred then let me be, but not unchafte,

Nor my clear fame with any spot defac'd. face there's no affected frown,

Tho in my

Nor in my carriage a feign'd niceness shown,
I keep my honor ftill without a ftain,

Nor has my love made

any coxcomb vain.

Your boldness I with admiration fee;

What hope had you to gain a queen like me?
Because a hero forc'd me once away,

Am I thought fit to be a fecond prey?
Had I been won, I had deferv'd
your blame,
But fure my part was nothing but the shame.
Yet the base theft to him no fruit did bear,
I'scap'd unhurt by any thing but fear.
Rude force might fome unwilling kiffes gain;
But that was all he ever could obtain.

You on fuch terms would ne'er have let me go;
Were he like you, we had not parted fo.
Untouch'd the youth reftor'd me to my friends,
And modeft ufage made me fome amends.
'Tis virtue to repent a vicious deed.
Did he repent, that Paris might fucceed?

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