Part 7

Him Pentheus angry stopp'd. "Thy tedious tale, "Form'd to divert my rage, in vain is told. "Here, men, swift drag him hence!—dispatch his soul, "Driven from his body, down to Stygian night; "By pangs excruciating." Straight close pent, In solid dungeon is Acoetes thrown, While they the instruments of death prepare; The cruel steel; the flames;—spontaneous fly Wide ope the dungeon doors; spontaneous fall The fetters from his arms, and freed he goes. Stubborn, the son of Echion still persists; But sends no messenger: himself proceeds, To where Cythæron, for the sacred rites Selected, rings with Bacchanalian songs, And outcries shrill. As foams an high-bred steed, When through the speaking brass the warlike trump, Sounds the glad signal; and with ardor burns For battle: so the air, with howlings loud Re-echoing, Pentheus moves, and doubly flames His rage, to hear the clangor. Clear'd from trees, A plain extends, from every part fair seen, And near the mountain's centre: round its skirt, Thick groves grow shady. Here his mother saw His eye unhallow'd view the sacred rites; And first,—by frantic madness urg'd,—she first Furious the Thyrsus at her Pentheus flung: Exclaiming loud;—"Ho, sisters! hither haste! "Here stands the furious boar that wastes our grounds: "My hand has smote him." Raging rush the crowd, In one united body. All close join, And all pursue the now pale trembling wretch. No longer fierce he storms; but grieving blames His rashness, and his obstinacy owns. Wounded,—"dear aunt, Autonoë!"—he cries, "Help me!—O, let your own Actæon's ghost "Move you to pity!" She, Actæon's name Nought heeding, tears his outstretcht arm away; The other, Ino from his body drags! And when his arms, unhappy wretch, he tries To lift unto his mother, arms to lift Were none;—but stretching forth his mangled trunk Of limbs bereft;—"look, mother!"—he exclaims. Loud howl'd Agavé at the sight; his neck Fierce grasping,—toss'd on high his streaming locks, Her bloody fingers twisted in his hair. Then clamor'd loudly;—"joy, my comrades, joy! "The victory is mine!" Not swifter sweep The winds those leaves which early frosts have nipp'd, And lightly to the boughs attach'd remain, Than scatter'd flew his limbs by furious hands.

The Fourth Book.

Feast of Bacchus. Impiety and infidelity of Alcithoë and her sisters. Story of Pyramus and Thisbe. Amour of Mars and Venus. The lovers caught by Vulcan in a net. Sol's love for Leucothoë, and her change to a tree of frankincense. Clytié transformed to a sunflower. Tale of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus. Transformation of Alcithoë and her sisters to bats. Juno's fury. Madness of Athamas; and deification of Ino and Melicertes. Change of the Theban women to rocks and birds. Cadmus and Hermione changed to serpents. Perseus. Transformation of Atlas to a mountain. Andromeda saved from the sea monster. Story of Medusa.

THE Fourth Book OF THE METAMORPHOSES OF OVID.

Warn'd by the dreadful admonition, all Of Thebes the new solemnities approve; Bring incense, and to Bacchus' altars bend. Alcithoë only, Minyäs' daughter, views His orgies still with unbelieving eyes. Boldly, herself and sisters, partners all In impious guilt, refuse the god to own, The progeny of Jove. The prophet bids Each mistress with her maids, to join the feast: (Sacred the day from toil). Their breasts to clothe In skins; the fillets from their heads to loose; With ivy wreathe their brows; and in their hands The leafy Thyrsus grasp. Threatening, he spoke, In words prophetic, how th' affronted god Would wreak his ire. Matrons and virgins haste; Throw by their baskets; quit the loom, and leave Th' unfinish'd threads: sweet incense they supply Invoking Bacchus by his various names. Bromius! Lyæus! power in flames produc'd!— Produc'd a second time! god doubly born! Born of two mothers! Nyseus! they exclaim; Long-hair'd Thyoneus!—and the planter fam'd Of genial grapes! Lenæus! too, they sing; Nyctelius! Elelcus! and aloud Iäcchus! Evan! with the numerous names, O Liber! in the Grecian land thou hold'st. Unwaning youth is thine, eternal boy! Most beauteous form in heaven! a virgin's face Thou seem'st to bear, when seen without thy horns. Stoops to thy arms the East, where Ganges bounds The dusky India:—Deity rever'd! Thou impious Pentheus sacrific'd; and thou, The mad Lycurgus punish'd with his axe: By thee the Tyrrhene traitors, in the main Were flung: Adorn'd with painted reins, thou curb'st The lynxes in thy chariot yok'd abreast: Thy steps the Satyrs and Bacchantes tread; And old Silenus; who with wine o'ercharg'd, With a long staff his tottering steps sustains: Or on a crooked ass, unsteady sits: Where'er thou enterest shout the joyous youth, Females and males immingled: loud the drums Struck by their hands resound;—and loudly clash The brazen cymbals: soft the boxen flutes Deep and melodious sound!

Now prays all Thebes The god's approach in mildness; and perform His sacred rites as bidden. Sole remain At home secluded, Minyäs' daughters,—they With ill-tim'd industry the feast prophane. Busy, they form the wool, and twirl the thread; Or to the loom stick close, and all their maids Urge to strict labor. One with dexterous thumb The slender thread extending, cries;—"while all, "Idly, those rites imaginary tend, "Let us, whom Pallas, deity more great, "Detains, our useful labors lighter make "By vary'd converse. Each in turn relate "Her tale, while others listen; thus the time "Less tedious shall appear." All pleas'd applaud The proposition; and her sisters beg That she the tales commence. Long she demurs, What story first, of those she knew, to tell; For numerous was her store. In doubt, thy tale, Dercetis Babylonian, to relate, Whose form, the Syrians think, with scales is cloth'd; The stagnant pools frequenting: or describe Thy daughter's change, on waving pinions borne; Who lengthen'd age obtain'd, on lofty towers Safe dwelling: or of Naïs, who the youths With magic works, and potent witching words To silent fishes turn'd; till she the same Vile transformation suffer'd: or the tree, Which once in clusters white its berries bore, Now blood besprinkled, growing black. This tale Most novel, pleas'd the most: and as she spun Her slender thread, the nymph the tale began.

"Thisbe, the brightest of the eastern maids; "And Pyramus, the pride of all the youths, "Contiguous dwellings held, in that fam'd town, "Where lofty walls of stone, we learn were rais'd, "By bold Semiramis. Their neighbouring scite, "Acquaintance first encourag'd,—primal step "To further intimacy: love, in time, "Grew from this chance connection; and they long'd "To join by lawful rites: but harsh forbade, "Their rigid sires the union fate had doom'd. "With equal ardor both their minds inflam'd, "Burnt fierce; and absent every watchful spy "By nods and signs they spoke; for close their love "Conceal'd they kept;—conceal'd it burn'd more fierce. "The severing wall a narrow chink contain'd, "Form'd when first rear'd;—what will not love espy? "This chink, by all for ages past unseen, "The lovers first espy'd.—This opening gave "A passage for their voices; safely through, "Their tender words were breath'd in whisperings soft. "Oft punctual at their posts,—on this side she, "And Pyramus on that;—each breathing sighs,— "By turns inhaling, have they mutual cry'd;— "Invidious wall! why lovers thus divide? "Much were it, did thy parts more wide recede, "And suffer us to join? were that too much "A little opening more, and we might meet "With lips at least. Yet grateful still we own "Thy kind indulgence, which a passage gives, "And amorous words conveys to loving ears. "Thus they loquacious, though on sides diverse, "Till night their converse stay'd;—then cry'd, adieu! "And each imprinted kisses, which the stones "Forbade to taste. Soon as Aurora's fires "Remov'd the shades of night, and Phoebus' rays "From the moist earth the dew exhal'd, they meet "As 'custom'd at the wall: lamenting deep, "As wont in murmuring whispers: bold they plan, "Their guards evading in the silent night, "To pass the outer gates. Then, when escap'd "From home, to leave the city's dangerous shade; "But lest, in wandering o'er the spacious plains "They miss to meet, at Ninus' sacred tomb "They fix their assignation,—hid conceal'd "Beneath th' umbrageous leaves. There grew a tree, "Close bordering on a cooling fountain's brink; "A stately mulberry;—snow-white fruit hung thick "On every branch. The plot pleas'd well the pair.

"And now slow seems the car of Sol to sink; "Slow from the ocean seems the night to rise; "Till Thisbe, cautious, by the darkness veil'd, "Soft turns the hinges, and her guards beguiles. "Her features veil'd, the tomb she reaches,—sits "Beneath th' appointed tree: love makes her bold. "Lo! comes a lioness,—her jaws besmear'd "With gory foam, fresh from the slaughter'd herd, "Deep in th' adjoining fount her thirst to slake. "Far off the Babylonian maid beheld "By Luna's rays the horrid foe,—quick fled "With trembling feet, and gain'd a darksome cave: "Flying, she dropp'd, and left her robe behind.

"Now had the savage beast her drought allay'd, "And backward to the forest roaming, found "The veiling robe;—its tender texture rent, "And smear'd the spoil with bloody jaws. The youth "(With later fortune his strict watch escap'd) "Spy'd the plain footsteps of a monster huge "Deep in the sand indented!—O'er his face "Pale terror spread: but when the robe he saw, "With blood besmear'd, and mangled; loud he cry'd,— "One night shall close two lovers' eyes in death! "She most deserving of a longer date. "Mine is the fault alone. Dear luckless maid! "I have destroy'd thee;—I, who bade thee keep "Nocturnal meetings in this dangerous place, "And came not first to shield thy steps from harm. "Ye lions, wheresoe'er within those caves "Ye lurk! haste hither,—tear me limb from limb! "Fierce ravaging devour, and make my tomb "Your horrid entrails. But for death to wish "A coward's turn may serve. The robe he takes, "Once Thisbe's, and beneath th' appointed tree "Bearing it, bath'd in tears; with ardent lips "Oft fondly kissing, thus he desperate cries;— "Now with my blood be also bath'd!—drink deep! "And in his body plung'd the sword, that round "His loins hung ready girt: then as he dy'd, "Hasty withdrew, hot reeking from the wound, "The steel; and backwards falling, press'd the earth. "High spouts the sanguine flood! thus forth a pipe, "(The lead decay'd, or damag'd) sends a stream "Contracted from the breach; upspringing high, "And loudly hissing, as the air it breaks "With jets repeated. Sprinkled with the blood, "The tree's white fruit a purple tinge receiv'd; "Deep soak'd with blood the roots convey the stain "Inly, and tinge each bough with Tyrian dye.

"Now Thisbe comes, with terror trembling still, "Fearful, she Pyramus expecting waits: "Him seek her beating bosom, and her eyes; "Anxious the peril she escap'd to tell. "Well mark'd her eyes the place,—and well the tree; "The berries chang'd in color, long she doubts "The same or no. While hesitating thus, "The panting members quivering she beholds, "Upon the sanguin'd turf; and back recoils! "Paler than box her features grow; her limbs "More tremble than when ocean fretful sounds, "Its surface briskly by the breezes swept. "Nor long the pause, her lover soon is known; "And now her harmless breast with furious blows "She punishes; her tresses wild she rends; "Clasps the lov'd body; and the gaping wound "Fills with her tears,—their droppings with the blood "Immingling. On his clay-cold face she press'd "Her kisses, crying;—Pyramus! what chance "Has torn thee from me thus? My Pyramus! "Answer me,—'tis thy dearest Thisbe speaks! "She calls thee,—hear me,—raise that dying face! "At Thisbe's name, his lids, with death hard weigh'd, "He rais'd—beheld her,—and forever clos'd.

"Him dying thus,—her lacerated veil; "The ivory scabbard empty'd of its sword; "She saw,—at once the truth upon her mind "Flash'd quick. Alas! thy hand, by love impell'd, "Has wrought thy ruin: but to me the hand, "In this, at least, shall equal force display, "For equal was my love; and love will grant "Sufficient strength the deadly wound to give. "In death I'll follow thee; with justice call'd "Thy ruin's wretched cause,—but comrade too. "Thou whom, but death seem'd capable to part "From me, shalt find ev'n death too weak will prove. "Ye wretched mourning parents, his and mine! "The dying prayers respect of him,—of me: "Grant that, entomb'd together, both may rest; "A pair by faithful love conjoined,—by death "United close. And thou fair tree which shad'st "Of one the miserable corse; and two "Soon with thy boughs wilt cover,—bear the mark "Of the sad deed eternal;—ting'd thy fruit "With mournful coloring: monumental type "Of double slaughter. Speaking thus, she plac'd "The steely point, while yet with blood it smok'd, "Beneath her swelling breast; and forward fell. "Her final prayer reach'd heaven; her parents reach'd: "Purple the berries blush, when ripen'd full; "And in one urn the lovers' ashes rest."

She ceas'd: a silent interval, but short, Ensu'd; and next Leuconoë thus address'd Her listening sisters:—"Ev'n the sun himself, "Whose heavenly light so universal shines, "To love is subject: his amours I tell. "This deity's keen sight the first espy'd— "(For all things penetrating first he sees) "The crime of Mars and Venus; sore chagrin'd, "To Vulcan he th' adulterous theft display'd, "And told him where they lay. Appall'd he heard,— "And dropp'd the tools his dexterous hand contain'd; "But soon recover'd. Slender chains of brass, "And nets, and traps he form'd; so wonderous fine, "They mock'd the power of sight: for far less fine, "The smallest thread the distaff forms; or line, "Spun by the spider, pendent from the roof. "Curious he form'd it; at the lightest touch "It yielded; each momentum, slight howe'er, "Caus'd its recession: this he artful hung, "The couch enfolding. When the faithless wife, "And paramour upon the bed embrac'd, "Both in the lewd conjunction were ensnar'd; "Caught by the husband's skill, whose art the chains "In novel form had fram'd. The Lemnian god "Instant wide threw the ivory doors, and gave "Admittance free to every curious eye: "In shameful guise together bound they laid. "But some light gods, not blaming much the sight, "Would wish thus sham'd to lie: loud laugh'd the whole, "And long in heaven the tale jocose was told.

"The well-remember'd deed, the Cyprian queen "Retorting, made the god remember too: "And him who her conceal'd amours disclos'd, "In turn betray'd. What now, Hyperion's son, "Avails thy beauty!—or thy radiant flames? "For thou, whose fires warm all the wide-spread world, "Burn'st with a new-felt heat! Thou, whose wide view, "Should every object grasp, with partial ken "Leucothoë only see'st! that nymph alone, "Attracts those eyes, whose lustre all the world "Expect to view. Oft in the eastern skies, "More early rising, art thou seen; and oft "More tardy 'neath the waves thou sinkest: long "The wintry days thou stretchest, with delay "Thy object lov'd to see. Meantime pale gloom "O'ercasts thy orb; the dullness of thy mind "Obstructs thy brightness; and thy rays obscure, "Terror in mortal breasts inspire. Not pale "Thou fadest, as, when nearer whirl'd to earth, "Faint Luna's shadow o'er thy surface glooms: "But love, and only love the paleness gives. "Her only, now thy amorous soul pursues; "Rhodos, nor Clymené, nor Persé fair, "Of Colchian Circé mother, tempt thee now; "Nor Clytié, whom thy cold neglect still spurns; "Yet still she burns to clasp thee: deep she mourns, "Stung more acutely by this fresh amour. "Now in Leucothoë, every former love "Is lost. Leucothoë, whom the beauteous nymph, "Eurynomé, in odoriferous climes "Of Araby brought forth. Full-grown, matur'd, "Leucothoë's beauteous form no less surpass'd "Her mother's, than her mother's all beside. "Her sire, the royal Orchamus (who claim'd "A seventh descent from ancient Belus) rul'd "The Achæmenian towns. The rapid steeds "Of Phoebus pasture 'neath the western sky; "Not grass, ambrosia, eating; heavenly food, "Which nerves their limbs, faint with diurnal toil, "Restoring all their ardor. Whilst the steeds, "This their celestial nourishment enjoy; "And night, as 'custom'd, governs in her turn; "The god the close apartments of his nymph "Beloved, enters;—form'd to outward view, "Eurynomé her mother. Her he saw "The slender threads from spindle twirling fine, "Illumin'd by the lamp; and circled round "By twice six female helpers. Warm he gave "As a lov'd daughter, his maternal kiss, "And said;—our converse secrecy demands.— "Th' attendant maids depart,—nor hinderance give, "Loitering, a mother's secret words to hear. "When he, the chamber free from spy or guard, "Exclaims,—no female I! behold the god, "The lengthen'd year who spaces! who beholds "Each object earth contains! the world's great eye "By which it all surveys. My tender words "Believe, I dearly love thee. Pale she look'd, "While thus he spoke;—started, and trembling dropp'd "Her distaff, and her spindle from her hand "Nerveless. But ev'n her terror seem'd to add "Fresh beauty to her features. Longer he "Delay'd not, but his wonted form assum'd; "In heavenly splendor shining. Mild the maid, "Won by his beauteous brightness, (though at first, "His sudden shape surpriz'd her) sunk beneath "The force he urg'd, with unresisting power.

"The jealous Clytié (who with amorous flame "Burn'd for Apollo) urg'd by harlot's rage, "Straight to the sire, Leucothoë's crime betray'd; "Painting the nymph's misdeed with heighten'd glow. "Fierce rag'd the father,—merciless inhum'd "Her living body deep in earth! Outstretcht "High to the sun her arms, and praying warm "For mercy;—he by force, she cry'd, prevail'd! "O'er her untimely grave a lofty mound "Of sand, her sire uprear'd. Hyperion's son "Through this an opening with his beams quick form'd, "Full wide for her, her head intomb'd to lift, "Once to the light again. Thy bury'd corse "No more thou now couldst raise; the ponderous load "Of earth prevents thee; and a bloodless mass, "Exanimate, thou ly'st! Not deeper grief "'Tis said, the ruler of the swift-wing'd steeds, "Display'd, when o'er the earth the hapless flames "By Phaëton were thrown. Arduous he strives, "Her gelid limbs, with all his powerful rays "To vivid heat recal: stern fate withstands "His utmost urg'd endeavours: bathing then "Her pallid corse, and all the earth around "With odorous nectar, sorrowing sad he cries;— "Yet, shalt thou reach the heavens! And soon began "Her limbs, soft melting in celestial dew, "With moistening drops of strong perfume to flow: "Slowly a frankincense's rooted twigs "Spread in the earth,—its top the hillock burst.

"Angry the god (though violent love the pain "Of jealousy might well excuse,—the pain "Of jealousy the tale) from Clytié now "Abstains; no more in amorous mood they meet. "Rash now the deed her burning love had caus'd, "Too late she found;—she flies her sister-nymphs; "And pining, on the cold bare turf she sits; "By day,—by night,—sole shelter'd by the sky; "Her dripping tresses matted round her brows: "Food,—drink, abhorring. Nine long days she bore "Sharp famine, bath'd with dew, bath'd with her tears; "Still on the ground prone lying. Yet the god "In circling motion still she ardent view'd; "Turning her face to his. Tradition tells, "Her limbs to earth grew fasten'd: ghastly pale "Her color; chang'd to bloodless leaves she stood, "Streak'd ruddy here and there;—a violet flower "Her face o'erspreading. Still that face she turns, "To meet the sun;—though binding roots retain "Her feet, her love unalter'd still remains."

She ended; all their listening ears, well pleas'd, The wonderous story heard. Some hard of faith Its truth, its probability deny. To true divinities such power some grant; And power to compass more;—to Bacchus none Such potence own. The sisters, silent now, Alcithoë beg to speak: she shooting swift Her shuttle through th' extended threads, exclaims;— "Of Daphnis' love, so known, on Ida's hill, "His flocks who tended, whom his angry nymph, "To stone transform'd (such fury fires the breast "Of those who desperate love!) I shall not tell: "Nor yet of Scython, of ambiguous form, "Now male, now female; nature's wonted laws "Inconstant proving: thee, O Celmis! too "I pass; once faithful nurse to infant Jove, "Now chang'd to adamant: Curetes! sprung "From showery floods: Crocus, and Smilax, both "To blooming flowers transform'd: unnotic'd these, "My tale from novelty itself shall please: "How Salmacis so infamous became, "Then list; whose potent waves, the luckless limbs "Enerve, of those they bathe. Conceal'd the cause; "Yet far and wide the fountain's power is known.

"Deep in the sheltering caves of Ida's hill, "The Naiäd nymphs a beauteous infant nurs'd; "Whom Cyprus' goddess unto Hermes bore. "His father's beauty, and his mother's, shone "In every feature; in his name conjoin'd "He bore their appellations. When matur'd "By fifteen summers, from paternal hills "Straying, he wander'd from his nursing Idé: "In lands unknown he joy'd, and joy'd to see "Strange rivers,—pleasure lessening every toil. "Through Lycia's towns he stray'd; and further still, "To bordering Caria, where a pool he spy'd, "Whose lowest depth a gleam transparent shew'd: "No marshy canes,—no filthy barren weeds, "Nor pointed bulrush near the margin grew: "Full on the eye the water shone, yet round "Its brink a border smil'd of verdant turf, "And plants forever green. Here dwelt a nymph, "But one who never join'd the active chace; "The bow who never bent; who never strove "To conquer in the race: of all the nymphs, "Alone no comrade of Diana fleet. "Oft, as 'tis said, her sister-nymphs exclaim'd;— "Come, Salmacis, thy painted quiver take; "Or take thy javelin;—with soft pleasures mix "Laborious sporting: but nor javelin she, "Nor painted quiver took;—with sportive toil, "Soft pleasures mingling: sole intent to bathe, "Her beauteous limbs amidst her own clear waves; "And through her flowing tresses oft to draw "The boxen comb, while o'er the fountain bent, "She studies all her graces: now, her form "Clad in a robe transparent, stretcht she lies, "Or on the yielding leaves, or bending grass; "Now flowers she culls;—and so it chanc'd to fall, "Flowers she was gathering, when she first beheld "The charming youth; no sooner seen than lov'd. "Not forth she rush'd at first, though strongly urg'd, "Forward to spring, but all adjusted fair: "Closely survey'd her robe; her features form'd; "And every part in beauteous shape compos'd. "Then thus address'd him;—O, most godlike youth! "And if a god, the lovely Cupid sure! "But if of mortal mould, blest is thy sire! "Blest is thy brother! and thy sister blest!— "If sister hast thou;—and the fostering breast "Which fed thy infant growth: but far 'bove all "In rapturous bliss, is she who calls thee spouse; "Should nymph exist thou deem'st that bliss deserves! "If wedded, grant a stol'n embrace to me; "If not, let me thy nuptial couch ascend. "The Naiäd ceas'd: a bashful glow suffus'd "His face, for nought of love to him was known: "Yet blushing seem'd he lovely: thus warm glows "The apple, to the ripening sun expos'd; "Or teinted ivory; or the redden'd moon, "Whom brazen cymbals clash to help in vain. "To her, warm praying for at least a kiss, "A chaste, a sister's kiss,—her arms firm claspt "Around his ivory neck;—desist! he cries, "Desist! or sole to thee the place I'll leave. "His flight she dreaded, and reply'd,—I go, "Dear youth, and freely yield the spot to thee. "And seems indeed, her steps from him to turn; "But still in sight she kept him; lurking close "Shelter'd by shadowy shrubs, on bended knees. "Of spy unconscious, he in boyish play "Frisks sportive here and there; dips first his feet, "Then ancles deeper in the wantoning waves; "Pleas'd with the temper of the lucid pool: "Till hasty stript from off his tender limbs "His garments soft he flings. More deeply struck "Stood Salmacis; more fiercely flam'd her love, "His naked beauty seen. Her gloating eyes "Sparkled no less than seem bright Phoebus' rays, "When shining splendid, midst a cloudless sky, "A mirror's face reflecting gives them back. "Delay ill brooking, hardly she contains "Her swelling joy; frantic for his embrace, "She pants, and hard from rushing forth refrains. "His sides he claps, and agile in the steam "Quick plunges, moving with alternate arms. "Bright through the waves he shines; thus white appears "The sculptur'd ivory, or the lily fair, "Seen through a crystal veil. The Naiäd cries;— "Lo! here I come;—he's mine,—the youth's my own! "And instant far was every garment flung. "Midst of the waves she leaps;—the struggling youth "Clasps close; and on his cold reluctant lips, "Forces her kisses; down she girds his arms; "And close to hers hugs his unwilling breast: "Final, around the youth who arduous strives "In opposition, and escape essays, "Her limbs she twines: so twines a serpent huge, "Seiz'd by the bird of Jove, and borne on high, "Twisting his head, the feet close-bracing holds; "The wide-spread wings entangled with his tail: "So twines the ivy round the lengthen'd bough: "So numerous Polypus his foe confines, "Seiz'd in the deep, with claws on every side "Firm graspt. But Hermes' son persisting still, "The Naiäd's wish denies; she presses close, "And as she cleaves, their every limb close join'd "Exclaims;—ungallant boy! but strive thy most, "Thou shalt not fly me. Grant me, O ye gods! "No time may ever sunder him from me, "Or me from him.—Her prayer was granted straight;— "For now, commingling, both their bodies join'd; "And both their faces melted into one. "So, when in growth we boughs ingrafted see, "The bark inclosing both at once, they sprout. "Thus were their limbs, in strong embrace comprest, "Wrapp'd close; no longer two in form, yet two "In feature; nor a nymph-like face remain'd, "Nor yet a boy's: it both and neither seem'd.