Where lurk'd the heinous poison. They their spires
Coil'd round the later born and sucking babe,
Who ne'er with tears had wet his nurse's breast;
And loosed again their writhing folds, and shrank
With agonizing scales, and strove to slip
From the constraining knot. Alcmena heard
The tumult, and, first waking, sudden cried:
"Rise, my Amphitryo; for a shivering fear
Seizes upon me: rise; nor wait to bind

The sandals on thy feet. Dost thou not hear
Our youngest son, how loud his cries? and lo!
Discern'st thou not, that in untimely night
The walls are visible, as in the shine

Of the clear morning? something, husband dear!
Something of strange and of miraculous

Is now within our dwelling: yea, even now." She said; and he, complying with his spouse, Descended from the bed, and reach'd his hand

To

grasp in haste his high-wrought sword, that still Close at the cedar-framed couch's head,

Hung on a nail: he snatch'd the twisted thong, And, with his left hand, drew the scabbard off Fram'd of the lote-tree. Suddenly again

The chamber sank in gloom: then loud he call'd The menials, breathing hard in slumbers deep: "Snatch quick a burning firebrand from the hearth, My servants!-haste, unbar your doors, and rise, My trusty servants!" so he call'd aloud;

And straight the menials came, each in his hand A flaming torch; and all the house was fill'd With the wide-hastening throng. They, when they

saw

The little Hercules, who firmly grasp'd

The two huge serpents in his straining hands,
Shriek'd out: but he stretch'd in Amphitryon's view
The gasping snakes; and, in his joy, leap'd up
Like a young child; and laughingly before
His father's feet cast the fell monsters down,
Lethargic now in death. Alcmena laid
The froward Iphicles upon her breast;
The whilst Amphitryo placed the other babe
Beneath the fleecy cloak: and sought again
The bed, which he had left, and broken sleep.

INSCRIPTION.

A VOW TO PRIAPUS.

OH goatherd! wind adown that village road, Where oaks are growing. Thou wilt find beyond A new-carved fig-tree image. Though three-legg'd, Bark'd with rough rind, and ear-less, know, the God,

Genial Priapus, speeds the soft designs

Of Venus. He is circled, where he stands,
With a fair chapel; and a running brook,
As clear it sparkles from the rock, looks green
With myrtles, bays, and aromatic boughs
Of cypress-trees; and there a branchy vine
Spreads broad its clusters. Blackbirds of the spring
Re-echo shrill their varied whistling pipe;

And tawny nightingales, perch'd opposite,
Strain their sweet throats, with soft, low-gurgled

tone.

Sit, therefore, in that spot; and pray the God, Gracious Priapus, that I might abhor

The love for Daphne. Promise at my hand

A goodly kid; but, if he still deny,
Three victims I devote in sacrifice;

A heifer, and a shagged goat, and lamb

Fed in the stall; and may the God be kind!

Aratus.

ARATUS.

Bef. Ch. 277.`

PHENOMENA.

ENGLISH TRANSLATOR: JABEZ HUGHES.

ARATUS was a native of Soli, a town on the seacoast of Cilicia, in the Lesser Asia. He was educated under Dionysius Heracleotes, the stoic philosopher. His learning acquired him the patronage of Antigonus Gonatas, king of Macedon, who appointed him his physician. He was intimate with Theocritus. Exclusive of his astronomical poem, he wrote hymns, inscriptions, and other pieces, now lost.