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Beats down the Trees before him, shakes the Ground,
The Forest echoes to the crackling Sound:
Shout the fierce Youth, and Clamours ring around.
All food with their protended Spears prepard,
With broad Steel Heads the brandith'd'Weapons glar'd.
The Beast impetuous with his Tusks aside,
Deals glancing Wounds; the fearful Dogs divide,
All spend their Mouchs aloof, but none abide.
Echion threw the first, but miss'd his Mark,
And struck his Bow-spear in a Maple's Bark;
Then Jafon, and his Javélin seem'd to take,
Bur fail'd with over-force, and whiz'd above his Back.
Mopsus was next;
He reach d the Savage, but no Blood he drew.
This chaf'd the Boar,'his Nostrils Flames expire,
And his red Eye-balls roll with living Fire.
Whirld from a Sling, or from an Engine thrown
Amid the Foes, so flies a mighty Stone,
As flies the Beast: The left Wing put to flight,
The Chiefs o'erborn, he rushes on the Right;
Empalamos and Pelagon he laid
In Dust, and next to Death, but for their Fellows Aid.
Onefimus far'd worse, prepard to fly,
The fatal Fang drove deep within his Thigh,
And cut the Nerves; the Nerves no more sustain
The Bulk; the Bulk unprop'd falls headlong on the Plain.
Against a Stump his Tusk the Monster grinds,
And in the sharpen'd Edge new Vigour finds.
Then trusting in his Arms, young Othrys found,
And ranch'd his Hip with one continu'd Wound.
And now both Leda's Twins, în act to throw,
Their trembling. Lances brandish'd at the Foe;
Nor had they miss'd, but he to Thickets fled,
Conceal'd from aiming Spears, nor pervious to the Steed,
Bur Telamon rush'd in, and hap'd to meet
A rising Root that held his faftend Feet;
So down he fell, whom sprawling on the Ground,
His Brother from the wooden Gyves unbound.
Mean time the Virgin-Huntress was not flow
T'expel the Shaft from her contracted Bow;
Beneath his Ear the fasten'd Arrow stood,
And from his Wound appear'd the trickling Blood :
She bloih'd for Joy, a virtuous Envy seiz'd the Crew
They shout, the Shouting animates their Hearts,
And all at once employ their thronging Darts ;
But out of Order chrown, in Air they join,
And Multitude makes frustrate che Design.
With both his Hands the proud Ancaus takes,
And flourishes his double-biting Ax;
Then forward to his Fate he cook a Stride.
Before the rest, and to his Fellows cry'd,
The Boar is doom'd, then stretch'd on Tiptoe ftood,
Secure to make his empty Promise good.
But the more wary Beast prevents the Blow,
And upwards rips the Groin of his audacious Foe.
Ancaus falls; His Bowels from the Wound
Gush'd out, and clotter'd Blood distain'd the Ground,
Perithous, no small Portion of the War,
Press'd on, and shook his Lance, his Jav'lin threw,
Hissing in Air th’unerring Weapon flew;
But on an Arm of Oak, char stood betwixt
The Marks-man and the Mark, his Launce he fix'd.
Once more bold Jafon threw, but fail'd to wound
The Boar, and flew an undeserving Hound;
And thro' the Dog the Dart was nail'd to Ground.
Two Spears from Meleager's Hand were sent
With equal Force, but various in the Event.
The first was fix'd in Earth, the second stood
On the Boar's bristled Back, and deeply drunk his Blood,
Now while the tortur'd Savage turns around,
And flings about his Foam, impatient of the Wound,
The Wound's great Author, close at Hand, provokes
His Rage, and plies him with redoubled Strokes,
Wheels as he wheels, and with his pointed Dart
Explores the nearest Paffage to his Heart.
Quick, and more quick, he spins in giddy Gires,
Then falls, and in much Foam his Soul expires.
This A& with Hands Heav'n-high the friendly Band
Applaud, and strain in theirs the Vietor's Hand.
Then all approach the Slain with vaft Surprize,
Admire on what a Breadth of Earth he lies.
And scarce fecure, reach out their Spears afar, (Dryd, Ovid.
And blood their Points to prove their Partnership of War.
Grace of the Woods! A Diamond Buckle bound
Her Veft behind, which else had flow'd upon the Ground,
And shew'd her buskin'd Legs : Her Head was bare,
But for her native Ornament of Hair,
Which in a simple Knot was ty'd above,
Sweet Negligence! unheeded Bait of Love;
Her founding Quiver on her Shoulder ty’d,
One Hand a Dart, and one a Bow supply'd.
Such was her Face as in a Nymph display'd
A fair fierce Boy, or in a Boy betray'd
The blushing Beauties of a modeft Maid.
Dryd. Ovid. J
A Huntress in her Habit, and her Mien ;
Her Dress a Maid, her Air confess'd a Queen.
Bare were her knees, and Knots her Garments bind
Loose was her Hair, and wanton'd in the Wind : (Dryd.Virg.
Her Hand sustain'd a Bow, her Quiver hung behind.
She cross'd the Lawn, or in the Forest stray'd.
A painted Quiver at her Back the bore,
Vary'd with Spots, a Linx's Hide she wore;
And at full Cry pursu'd the tusky Boar. Dryd. Virg.
As when Two adverse Hurricanes arise,
Must'ring their stormy Forces in the Skies,
Of equal Fury, and of equal Force,
Against each other bend their rapid Course;
The Clouds their Lines extend in black Array,
And Front to Front a fearful War display :
Exploded Flames against each other fly,
And fiery Arches vault th'enlighten'd'Sky:
Confli&ting Billows against Billows dash;
(flash, Thunder gainst Thunder roars, Lightnings 'gainst Lightnings Nor Flames, nor Winds, nor Waves, nor Clouds will yield, But equal Strength maintains a doubtful Field.
Blac. HUSBAND and WIFE. See Marriage. Are we not one ? Are we not join'd by Heav'n? Each interwoven with the others Fate ? Are we not mix'd like Streams of meeting Rivers, Whose blended Waters are no more distinguilh’d, But roul into the Sea one common Flood. Row. Fair Pen.
Force, and the Will of our imperious Rulers
May bind Two Bodies in one wretched Chain ;
But Minds will still look back to their own Choice.
So the poor Captive in a foreigo Realm
Stands on the Shore, and sends his Wishes back
To the dear native Land, from whence he came. Row. Fair Pen.
We think it Meric blindly to believe
Those pious Falfhoods we from Priests receive.
Faith is Religion's happy Lethargy;
The doubting Wife we brand with Herefie.
Husbands should more than the Religious strive,
Blindly to trust, and blindly to believe.
What can be sweeter than our native home;
Thither for Ease, and soft Repose we come.
Home is the sacred Refuge of our Life,
Secur'd from all Approaches but a Wife.
If thence we fly, the Cause admits no Doubt:
None but an inmate Foe could force us out :
Clamours our Privacies uneasy make;
(Dryd. Auren. Birds leave their Nests disturb’d, and Beasts theirHaunts foršake.
When Souls that should agree to will the fame,
To have one common Object for their Wishes,
Look diff'rent Ways, regardless of each other,
Think what a Train of Wretchedness ensues!
Love shall be banish'd from the Genial Bed ;
The Nights shall all be lonely and unquiet;
And ev'ry Day shall be a Day of Cares.
Row. Fair Pen.
What tho' some Fits of small Contest
Sometimes fall out among the best ?
That makes no Breach of Faith or Love,
But rather (sometimes) serves t'improve :
For, as in Running, ev'ry Pace
Is but between Two Legs a Race;
In which both do their uttermost
To get before, and win the Poft ;
Yet when they're at their Race's Ends,
They're still as kind and constant Friends; .
And to relieve their Weariness,
By Turns give one another Ease :
So all the false Alarms of Strife
Between the Husband and the Wife,
And little Quarrels, often prove
To be but new Recruits of Love :
When those who're always kind or coy,
In time muft either tire or cloy.
In all Amours a Lover burns
With Frowns, as well as Smiles, by Turns:
And Hearts have been as oft with fullen,
As charming Looks surpriz'd, and stoll'n:
Then why should more bewitching Clamour
Some Lovers not as much enamour ?
For Discords make the sweetest Airs;
And Curses are a kind of Pray’rs.-
And yet of Marriage Bands I'm weary grown ;
Love scorns all Ties, but those that are his own:
Chains that are dragg'd, must needs uneasy prove,
For there's a God-like Liberty in Love !
Dryd. Auren. Sure of all Ills domestick are the worst : When we lay next us what we hold most dear, Like Hercules, invenom'd Shirts we wear, And cleaving Mischiefs.
Dryd. Auren. Secrets of Marriage still are sacred held : Their Sweet and Bitter by the Wife conceald:
Errours of Wives reflect on Husbands ftill;
And when divulg'd, proclaim they've chosen ill:
And the mysterious Pow'r of Bed and Throne
Should always be maintain'd, but rarely shown. Dryd. Auren.
Men's Eyes are not fo subtle to perceive
My inward Mifery: I bear my Grief
Hid from the World. How am I wretched then ?
For ough I know all Husbands are like me ;
And every Man I talk to of his Wife,
Is but a well Dissembler of his Woes,
As I am.
Beau. Maid's Tragedy.
Few know what Care a Husband's Peace destroys,
His real Griefs, and his dissembled Joys. Dryd. Ind. Emp.
Hypocrisy, the thriving'st Calling,
The only Saint's-Bell that rings all in :
In which all Churches are concern'd,
And is the easiest to be learn'd.
For no Degrees, unless th'employ it,
Can ever gain much, or enjoy it.
A Gift that is not only able
To domineer among the Rabbble ;
But by the Law's impow'r'd to rout,
And awe the Greatest that stand out ;
Which few hold forth against, for fear
Their Hand should slip, and come too near:
For no Sin elfe among the Saints,
Is taught fo tenderly against.
Seeming Devotion does but guild a Knave,
That's neither faithful, honest, just, nor brave;
But where Religion does with Virtue join,
It makes a Hero like an Angel shine.
Yer few are truly by themselves express'd:
He that seems Virtuous, does but act a Part,
And shows not his own Nature, but his Art.
How. Veft. Virg.
She wrench'd the Jav lin with her dying Hands :
But wedg'd within her Breast the Weapon stands.
The Wood she draws, the steely Point remains.
Pois'd in his lifted Arm, his Lance he threw,
The winged Weapon, whistling in the Wind,
Came driving on, nor miss'd the Mark design'd.
The Shield gave way: Through treble Plates it went
Of folid Brass, of Linnen trebly rould,
And Three Bull-hides which round the Buckler fold.
All these it pass'd, refiftlefs in the Course.
Tranfpierc'd his Thigh, and spent its dying Force. Dryd. Vir: