The chafte Diana's private haunt, there stood
Full in the center of the darkfom wood
A fpacious Grotto, all around o'er grown
With hoary mofs, and arch'd with Pumice-ftone,
From out its rocky clefts the waters flow,
And trickling fwell into a lake below.
Nature had every where fo play'd her part,
That every where the feem'd to vie with Art.
Here the bright Goddefs, toil'd and chafe'd with heat,
Was wont to bathe her in the cool retreat.
Here did the now with all her train refort,
Panting with heat, and breathless from the sport;
Her armour-bearer laid her bow afide,
Some loos'd her fandals, fome her veil unty'd;
Each bufy Nymph her proper part undreft;
While Crocalè, more handy than the reft,
Gather'd her flowing hair, and in a noose
Bound it together, whilft her own hung loose.
Five of the more ignoble fort by turns
Fetch up the water, and unlade their urns.
Now, all undrest the shining Goddess flood,
When young Acton, wilder'd in the wood,
To the cool grot by his hard fate betray'd,
The fountains fill'd with naked Nymphs furvey'd.
The frighted virgins fhriek'd at the surprise,
(The forest echo'd with their piercing cries.)
Then in a huddle round their Goddess preft:
She, proudly eminent above the reft,
With blushes glow'd; füch blushes as adorn
The ruddy welkin, or the purple morn:
And tho' the crowding Nymphs her body hide,
Half backward fhrunk, and view'd him from afide.
Surpris'd, at firft she would have snatch'd her Bow,
But fees the circling waters round her flow ;
These in the hollow of her hand she took,
And dash'd 'em in his face, while thus fhe fpoke:
"Tell, if thou canft, the wondrous fight disclos'd;
"A Goddefs Naked to thy view expos'd.
This faid, the Man begun to disappear
By flow degrees, and ended in a Deer.
A rifing horn on either brow he wears,
And ftretches out his neck, and pricks his ears ;
Rough is his skin, with fudden hairs o'er-grown,
His bofom pants with fears before unknown.
Transform'd at length, he flies away in haste,
And wonders why he flies away fo faft.
But as by chance, within a neighb'ring brook,
He saw his branching horns and alter'd look,
Wretched Acteon! in a doleful tone
He try'd to fpeak, but only gave a groan;
And as he wept, within the wat❜ry glass
He faw the big round drops, with filent pace,
Run trickling down a favage hairy face.
What should he do? Or feek his old abodes,
Or herd among the Deer, and fculk in woods?
Here shame diffuades him, there his fear prevails,
And each by turns his aking heart affails.
As he thus ponders, he behind him fpies.
His opening Hounds, and now he hears their cries:
A gen'rous pack, or to maintain the chace,
Or fnuff the vapour from the scented grafs.
He bounded off with fear, and swiftly ran
O'er craggy mountains, and the flow'ry plain;
Through brakes and thickets forc'd his way, and flew
Through many a ring, where once he did purfue.
In vain he oft endeavour'd to proclaim
His new misfortune, and to tell his name;
Nor voice nor words the brutal tongue fupplies ;
From shouting men, and horns, and dogs he flies,
Deafen'd and stunn'd with their promifcuous cries.
When now the fleeteft of the pack, that prest
Clofe at his heels, and sprung before the rest,
Had faften'd on him, ftraight another pair
Hung on his wounded haunch, and held him there,
'Till all the pack came up, and ev'ry hound
Tore the fad Huntsman grov'ling on the ground,
Who now appear'd but one continu'd wound.
With dropping tears his bitter fate he moans,
And fills the mountain with his dying groans.
His fervants with a piteous look he spies,
And turns about his fupplicating eyes.
His fervants, ignorant of what had chance'd,
With eager hafte and joyful fhouts advance'd,
And call'd their Lord Acteon to the game;
He fhook his head in anfwer to the name;
He heard, but wish'd he had indeed been gone,
Or only to have flood a looker-on.
But, to his grief, he finds himself too near,
And feels his rav'nous dogs with fury tear
'Their wretched master panting in a Deer.
The Birth of BACCHU S.
Acteon's fufferings, and Diana's rage,
Did all the thoughts of Men and Gods engage;
Some call'd the evils, which Diana wrought,
Too great, and disproportion'd to the fault,
Others again esteem'd Acteon's woes
Fit for a Virgin Goddess to impose.
The hearers into different parts divide,
And reasons are produce'd on either fide.
Juno alone, of all that heard the news,
Nor would condemn the Goddess, nor excuse:
She heeded not the justice of the deed,
But joy'd to fee the race of Cadmus bleed;
For ftill fhe kept Europa in her mind,
And, for her fake, detefted all her kind.
Befides, to aggravate her hate, fhe heard
How Semele, to Jove's embrace preferr'd,
Was now grown big with an immortal load,
And carry'd in her womb a future God.
Thus terribly incens'd, the Goddefs broke
To fudden fury, and abruptly spoke.,
"Are my reproaches of fo fmall a force ? "'Tis time I then pursue another course: "It is decreed the guilty wretch shall die, "If I'm indeed the Mistress of the Sky; "If rightly ftil'd among the pow'rs above "The Wife and Sifter of the thund'ring Jove,,
(And none can fure a Sifter's right deny)
"It is decreed the guilty wretch fhall die. "She boafts an honour I can hardly claim; "Pregnant fhe rifes to a Mother's name; "While proud and vain she triumphs in her fove, : "And shows the glorious tokens of his love:
"But if I'm still the mistress of the fkies,
By her own lover the fond beauty dies. This faid, defcending in a yellow cloud, Before the gates of Semele fhe flood.
Old Berce's decrepit fhape flie wears,
Her wrinkled vifage, and her hoary hairs;
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