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Thus in a trice a judge of beauty grown (A judge erected from a country clown) He long'd to see her eyes, in slumber hid, And wish'd his own could pierce within the lid, He would have wak'd her, but restrain'd his thought, [taught, And love new-born the first good manners And awful fear his ardent wish withstood, Nor durst disturb the goddess of the wood. For such she seem'd by her celestial face, Excelling all the rest of human race. And things divine, by common sense he knew, Must be devoutly seen, at distant view: So checking his desire, with trembling heart, Gazing he stood, nor would nor could depart; Fix'd as a pilgrim wilder'd in his way,

Who dares not stir by night, for fear to stray, But stand with awful eyes to watch the dawn of day.

At length awaking, Iphigene the fair (So was the beauty call'd who caus'd his care) Unclos'd her eyes, and double day reveal'd, While those of all her slaves in sleep were seal'd.

The slav'ring carden, propp'd upon his staff, Stood ready gaping, with a grinning laugh, To welcome her awake; nor durst begin To speak, but wisely kept the fool within. Then she: What makes you, Cymon, here alone? (For Cymon's name was round the country Becausé descended of a noble race, [known, And for a soul ill sorted with his face).

But still the sot stood silent with surprise, With fix't regard on her new open'd eyes, And in his breast receiv'd th' envenom'd dart, A tickling pain that pleas'd amid the smart. But conscious of her form, with quick distrust She saw his sparkling eyes, and fear'd his brutal This to prevent, she wak'd her sleepy crew, [lust: And, rising hasty, took a short adieu.

Then Cynion first his rustic voice essay'd,
With profer'd service to the parting maid,
To see her safe; his haud she long denied,
But took at length, ashan'd of such a guide.
So Cymon led her home, and leaving there,
No more would to his country clowns repair;
But sought his father's house with better mind,
Refusing in the farm to be confin'd.

The father wonder'd at the son's return,
And knew not whether to rejoice or mourn;
But doubtfully receiv'd, expecting still
To learn the secret causes of his alter'd will.
Nor was he long delay'd: the first request
He made, was like his brothers to be dress'd,
And, as his birth requir'd, above the rest.

With ease his suit was granted by his sire,
Distinguishing his heir by rich attire:
His body thus adorn'd, he next design'd,
With lib'ral arts to cultivate the mind:
He sought a tutor with his own accord,"
And studied lessons he before abhorr'd.

In ev'ry exercise of all admir'd,
He seem'd, nor only seem'd, but was inspir'd:
Inspir'd by love, whose business is to please;
He rode, he fenc'd, he mov'd with graceful ease;
More fam'd for sense, for courtly carriage more,
Than for his brutal folly known before.

What then of alter'd Cymon shall we say,
But that the fire which chok'd in ashes lay,
A load too heavy for his soul to move,
Was upward blown below, and brush'd away by
Jove?

Love made an active progress thro' his mind,
The dusky parts he clear'd, the gross refin'd,
The drowsy wak'd; and, as he went, impress'd
The maker's image on the human breast.
Thus was the man amended by desire :
And tho' he lov'd perhaps with too much fire,
His father all his faults with reason scann'd,
And lik'd an error of the better hand:
Excus'd the excess of passion in his mind,
By flames too fierce, perhaps too inuch refin'd:
So Cymon, since his sire indulg'd his will,
Impetuous lov'd, and would be Cymon still;
Galesus he disown'd, and close to bear
The name of fool, confirm'd, and bishop'd by
the fair.

To Cipscus by his friends his suit he mov'd,
Cipseus the father of the fair he lov'd:
But he was pre-engag'd by former ties,
While Cynion was endeavouring to be wise:
And Iphigene, oblig'd by former vows,
Had given her faith to wed a foreign sponse:
Her sire and she to Rhodian Pasimond,
Though both repenting, were by promise bound,
Nor could retract; and thus, as fate decreed,
Though better lov'd, he spoke too late to speed.

The doom was past, the ship already sent Did all his tardy diligence prevent: Sign'd to herself the fair unhappy maid, While stormy Cymon thus in secret said: The time is come for Iphigene to find The miracle she wrought upon my mind: Her charms have made me man, her ravish'd love In rank shall place me with the blest above. For mine by love, by force she shall be mine, Or death, if force should fail, shall finish my design.

Resolv'd he said; and rigged with speedy care A vessel strong, and well equipp'd for war. The secret ship with chosen friends he stor❜d; And, bent to die or conquer, went abroad. Ambush'd he lay behind the Cyprian shore, Waiting the sail that all his wishes bore;

Sent out the hostile ship and beauteous bride.
To Rhodes the rival bark directly steer'd,
When Cymon sudden at her back appear'd,
And stopt her flight; then, standing on his prow,
In haughty terms he thus defied the foe:"
Or strike your sails at summons, or prepare
soTo prove the last extremities of war.

Thus the man-child advanc'd and learn'd
That in short time his equals he surpass'd; [fast,Thus warn'd, the Rhodiansfor the fight provide,7

His brutal manuers from his breast exil'd,
His mien he fashion'd, and his tongue he fil'd;

Already were the vessels side by side; [bride. These obstinate to save, and those to seise the

But

But Cymon soon his crooked grapples cast,
Which with tenacious hold his foes embrac'd,
And, arm'd with sword and shield, amid the
press he pass'd.

prey,

Not more aghast the proud arenangel fell,
Plung'd from the height of heaven to deepest hell,
Than stood the lover of his love possest,
Now curs'd the more, the more he had been
blest ;

Fierce was the fight; but, hast'ning to his
By force the furious lover freed his way:
Himself alone dispers'd the Rhodian crew,
The weak disdain'd, the valiant overthrew.
Cheap conquest forhis followingfriends remain'd,
He reap'd the field, and they but only glean'd.
His victory confess'd, the foes retreat,
And cast the weapons at the victor's feet,
Whom thus he cheer'd: O Rhodian youth, I Are ever present, and her crime upbraid.

More auxions for her danger than his own,
Death he defies, but would be lost alone.

fought

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Sad Iphigene to womanish complaints
Adds pious prayers, and wearies all the saints;
Ev'n if she could, her love she would repent;
But since she cannot, dreads the punishment:
Her forfeit faith, and Pasimond betray'd,

She blames herself, nor blames her lover less,
Augments her anger as her fears increase;
From her own back the burden would remove,
And lays the load on his ungovern'd love,
Which interposing durst, in Heaven's despite,
Invade and violate another's right:
The pow'rs incens'd awhile deferr'd his pain,
And made him master of his vows in vain :
But soon they punish'd his presumptuouspride;"
That for his daring enterprise she died,
Who rather not resisted than complied.

For love alone, nor other beauty sought:
Your lives are safe; your vessels I resign;
Yours be your own, restoring what is mine:
In Iphigene I claim my rightful due,
Robb'd by my rival, and detain'd by you.
Your Pasimond a lawless bargain drove,
The parent could not sell the daughter's love;
Or, if he could, my love disdains the laws,
And, like a king, by conquest gains his cause;
Where arms take place, all other pleas are vain;
Lovetaughtme force, andforceshall love maintain;
You, what by strength you couldnot keep, release,
And at an easy ransom buy your peace.
Fearon the conquer'd side soonsign'd th'accord,
And Iphigene to Cymon was restor❜d:
While to his arms the blushing bride he took,
To seeming sadness she compos'd her look ;
As if by force subjected to his will,
Tho' pleas'd dissembling, and a woman still.
And (for she wept) he wip'd her falling tears,
And pray'd her to dismiss her empty fears:
For yours I am, he said, and have deserv'd
Your love much better whom so long I serv'd,
Than he to whom your formal father tied
Your vows, and sold a slave, not sent a bride.
Thus while he spoke, he scis'd the willing prey,
As Paris bore the Spartan spouse away.
Faintly she scream'd, and ev'n her eyes confess'd
She rather would be thought, than was, distress'd.
Who now exults but Cymon in his mind;
Vain hopes and empty joys of human kind,
Proud of the present, to the future blind!
Secure of fate, while Cymon ploughs the sea,
And steers to Candy with his conquer'd prey,
Scarce the third glass of measur'd hours was
When, like a fiery meteor, sunk the sun,
The promise of a storm; the shifting galeś
Forsake by fits, and fill the flagging sails;
Hoarse murmers of the main from far wereheard,
And night came on, not by degrees prepar'd,
But all at once; at once the winds arise,
The thunders roll, the forky lightning flies.
In vain the master issues out commands,
In vain the trembling sailors ply their hands;
The tempest unforeseen prevents their care,
And from the first they labor in despair.
The giddy ship, betwixt the winds and tides,
Fore'd back, and forwards, in a circle rides,
Stann'dwiththediff'rentblows;thenshootsamain,
Fill, counterbuff'd, she stops, aud sleeps again. In peace a charge, in war a weak defence:

Then, impotent of mind, with alter'd sense
She hugg'd th' offender, and forgave the offence
Sex to the last: meantime, with sails deelin'd,
The wand'ring vessel drove before the wind;
Toss'd and retoss'd, aloft, and then below,
Nor portthey seek,uorcertain course they know,
But every moment wait the coming blow.
Thus blindly driven, by breaking day they view'd
The lands before them, and their fears renew'd;
The land was welcome, but the tempest bore
The threaten'd ship against a rocky shore.

A winding bay was near; to this they bent,
And just escap'd; their force already spent:
Secure from storms, and panting from the sea,
The land unknown at leisure they survey;
And saw(but soon their sickly sight withdrew)
The rising tow'rs of Rhodes at distant view:
And curs'd the hostile shore of Pasimond,
Sav'd from the seas, and shipreck'd on the
ground.

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The frighted sailors tried their strength in vain
To turn the stern, and tempt the stormy main :
But the stiff wind withstood the lab'ring oar,
And forc'd them forward on the fatal shore!
run,The crooked keel now bites the Rhodian strand,

And the ship moor'd constrains the crew to land.
Yet still they might be safe, because unknown;
But, as ill fortune seldom comes alone,
The vessel they dismiss'd was driven before,
Already shelter'd on their native shore ;
Known each, they know, but each with change
of cheer:

The vanquish'd side exults, the victors fear;
Not them but theirs, made pris'ners ere they fight,
Despairing conquest, and depriv'd of flight.

The country rings around with loud alarms,
And raw in fields the rude militia swarms;
Mouths without hands, maintain'd at vast ex-
pence,

Stout

Stout once a month they march, a blust'ring band; | Both sides he weigh'd; but, after much debate,
And ever, but in times of need, at hand; The man prevail'd above the magistrate.
This was the morn when, issuing on the guard, Love never fails to master what he finds,
Drawn up in rank and file they stood prepar'dBut works a difl'rent way in diff'rent minds,
Of seeining arms to make a short essay,
The fool enlightens, and the wise he blinds.
This youth proposing to possess and 'scape,
Began in murder, to conclude in rape:
Unprais'd by me, tho' Heaven somictimes may
bless

Then hasten to be drunk, the business of the day.

The cowards would have fled, but that they knewv

Themselves so many, and their foes so few :
But, crowding on, the last the first impel ;
Till overborne with weight the Cyprians fell.
Cymon enslav'd, who first the war began;
And Iphigene once more is lost and won.
Deep in a dungeon was the captive cast,
Depriv'd of day, and held in fetters fast;
His life was only spar'd at their request,
Whom taken he so nobly had releas'd;
But Iphigenia was the ladies' care,
Each in their turn address'd to treat the fair;
While Pasimondand histhenuptialfeast prepare.
Her secret soul to Cynon was inclin'd,
But she must suffer what her fates assign'd;
So passive is the church of womankind.
What worse to Cymon could his fortune deal,
Roll'd to the lowest spoke of all her wheel?
It rested to dismiss the downward weight,
Or raise him upward to his former height;
The latter pleas'd; and love (concern'd the
most)

Prepar'd th' amends for what by love he lost.
The sire of Pasimond had left a son,
Though younger, yet for courage early known,
Ormisda call'd, to whom, by promise tied,
A Rhodian beauty was the destin'd bride;
Cassandra was her name, above the rest
Renown'd for birth, with fortune amply blest.
Lysimachus, who rul'd the Rhodian state,
Was then by choice their annual magistrate;
He lov'd Cassandra too with equal fire,
But fortune had not favor'd his desire;
Cross'd by her friends, by her not disapprov'd,
Nor yet preferr'd, or like Ormisda lov'd':
So stood th' affair; some little hope remain'd,
That should bis rival chance to lose, he gain'd.
Mean time young Pasimond his marriage
press'd,

Ordain'd the nuptial day, prepar'd the feast;
And frugally resolv'd (the charge to shun
Which would be double should he wed alone)
To join his brother's bridal with his own.

Lysimachus, oppress'd with mortal grief,
Receiv'd the news and studied quick relief;
The fatal day approach'd; if force were us'd,
The magistrate his public trust abus'd;
To justice liable, as law requir'd;
For, when his office ceas'd, his pow'r expir'd:
While pow'r remain'd, the means were in his
hand,

By force to seise, and then forsake the land:
Betwixt extrenies he knew not how to move;
A slave to fame, but more a slave to love:
Restraining others, yet himself not free,
Made impotent by pow'r, debas'd by dignity

An impious act with undeserv'd success;
The great, it seems, are privileg'd alone
To punish all injustice but their own.
But here I stop, not daring to proceed,
Yei blush to flatter an unrighteous deco;
For crimes are but permitted, not decreed.

}

Resolv'd on force, his wit the prætor bent To find the means that might secure th' event; Nor long he labor'd, for his lucky thought In captive Cymon found the friend he sought; Th'example pleas'd; the cause and crime thesame; An injur'd lover and a ravish'd dame. How much he durst he knew by what he dar'd, The less he had to lose, the less he car'd, To manage loathsome life when love was the reward.

This ponder'd well, and fix'd on his intent,
In depth of night he for the pris'ner sent ;
In secret sent, the public view to shun;
Then, with a sober smile, he thus begun :
The pow'rs above, who bounteously bestow
Their gifts and graces on mankind below,
Yet prove our merit first, nor blindly give
To such as are not worthy to receive;
For valor and for virtue they provide
Their due reward, but first they must be tried:
These fruitful seeds within your mind they
sow'd;

"Twas yours t' improve the talent they bestow'd:
They gave you to be born of noble kind,
They gave you love to lighten up your mind,
And purge the grosser parts; they gave you care
To please, and courage to deserve the fair.

Thus far they tried you, and by proof they

found

The grain entrusted in a grateful ground;
But still the great experiment remain'd,
They suffer'd you to lose the prize you gain'd,
That you might learn the gift was theirs alone
And, when restor'd, to them the blessing own.
Restor'd it soon will be; the means prepar'd,
The difficulty smooth'd, the danger shar'd;
Be but yourself, the care to me resign,
Then Iphigene is yours, Cassandra mine.
Your rival Pasimond pursues your life;
Impatient to revenge his ravish'd wife.
But yet not his to-morrow is behind,
And love our fortunes in one band has join'd
Two brothers are our foes; Ormisda mine,
Be much declar'd as Pasimond is thine;
To-morrow must their common vows be tied;
With love to friend, and fortune for our guide,
Let both resolve to die, or each redeem a bride.
Right I have none, nor hast thoumuch to'plead;
"Tis force, when done, must justify the deed;

Our

Our task perform'd, we next prepare for flight,
And let the losers talk in vain of right:
We with the fair will sail before the wind;
If they are griev'd, I leave the laws behind.
Speak thy resolves; if now thy courage droop,
Despair in prison, and abandon hope:
But if thou dar'st in arms thy love regain
(For liberty without thy love were vain)
Then second my design to seise the prey,

Or lead to second rape, for well thou know'st the way.

Said Cymon, overjoy'd, Do thou propose The means to fight, and only show thy foes: For from the first, when love had fir'd my mind, Resolv'd I left the care of life behind.

To this the bold Lysimachus replied:
Let heaven be neuter, and the sword decide;
The spousals are prepar'd, already play
The minstrels, and provoke the tardy day:
By this the brides are wak'd, their grooms are
dress'd;

All Rhodes is summon'd to the nuptial feast,
All but myself, the sole unbidden guest.
Unbidden though I am, I will be there;
And, join'd by thee, intend to joy the fair.
Now hear the rest; when day resigns the light,
And cheerful torches gild the jolly night,
Be ready at my call; my chosen few
With arms administer'd shall aid thy crew.
Then, ent ring unexpected, will we seise
Our destin'd prey, from men dissolv'd in ease,
By wine disabled, anprepar'd for fight;
And, hastening to the seas, suborn our flight:
The seas are ours, for I command the fort;
A ship well-mann'd expects us in the port,
If they, or if their friends, the prize contest,
Death shall attend the man who dares resist.
It pleas'd: the prisoner to his hold retir'd;"
His troop with equal emulation fir'd,

All fix'd to fight, and all their wanton work requir'd.

The sun arose; the streets were throng'd around,
The palace open'd, and the posts were crown'd.
The double bridegroom at the door attends
Th' expected spouse, and entertains the friends;
They meet, they lead to church, the priests invoke
The pow'rs, and feed the flames with fragrant

smoke.

This done, they feast, and at the close of night
By kindled torches vary their delight;
These lead the lively dance, and those the
brimming bowls invite.

Now at th' appointed place and hour assign'd,
With souls resolv'd the ravishers were join'd:
Three bands are form'd; the first is sent before
To favor the retreat, and guard the shore;
The second at the palace gate is plac'd,
And up the lofty stairs ascend the last;
A peaceful troop they seem with shining vests,
But coats of mail beneath secure their breasts.
Dauntless they enter, Cymon at their head,
And find the feast renew'd, the table spread;
Sweet voices, mix'd with instrumental sounds,
Ascend the vaultedroof, the vaulted roof rebounds:

When, like the harpies rushing through the hall,
The sudden troop appears, the tables fall,
Their smoking load is on the pavement thrown;
Each ravisher prepares to seise his own;
The brides, invaded with a rude embrace,
Shriek out for aid, confusion fills the place.
Quick to redeem the prey their plighted lords
Advance, the palace gleams with shining swords,
But late is all defence, aud succour vain;
The rape is made, the ravishers remain ;
Two sturdy slaves were only sent before
To bear the purchas'd prize in safety to the shore:
The troop retires, the lovers close the rear,
With forward faces not confessing fear;
Backward they move, but scorn their pacetomend;
Then seek the stairs, and with slow haste descend.
Fierce Pasimond, their passage to prevent,
Thrust full on Cymon's back in his descent;
The blade return'd unbath'd, and to the han-
die bent.

Stout Cymon soon remounts, and cleft in two
His rival's head with one descending blow;
And as the next in rank Ormisda stood,
Heturn'd the point; the sword, inur'd to blood,
Bor'd his ungarded breast, which pour'd a
purple flood.

With vow'd revenge, the gath'ring crowd pur

sues,

The ravishers turn head, the fight renews;
The hall is heap'd with corps; the sprinkled gore
Besmears the walls, and floats the marble floor.
Dispers'd at length the drunken squadron flies,
The victors to their vessel bear the prize; [cries.
And hear behind loud groans and lamentable
The crew with merryshoutstheiranchorsweigh,
Then ply their oars, and brush the buxom sea,
While troops of gather'd Rhodians crowd the
key.

What should the people do when left alone;
The governor and governinent are gone:
The public wealth to foreign parts convey'd;
Some troops disbanded, and the rest unpaid.
Rhodes is the sovereign of the sea no more;
Their ships unrigg'd, and spent their naval store ;
They neither could defend, nor can pursue,
But grinn'd their teeth, and casta helpless view;
In vain with darts a distant war they try,
Short, and more short, the missive weapons fly,
Meanwhile the ravishers their crimes enjoy,
And flying sails and sweeping oars employ:
The cliffs of Rhodes in little space are lost;
Jove's isle they seek, nor Jove denies his coast.
In safety landed on the Candian shore,
With gen'rous wines their spirits they restore;
There Cymon with his Rhodian friends resides,
Both court and wed at once the willing brides.
A war ensues, the Cretans own their cause,
Stiff to defend their hospitable laws;
Both parties lose by turns, and neither wins,
Till peace propounded by a truce begins.
The kindred of the slam forgive the deed,
But a short exile aust for show proceed;
The term expir'd from Candia they remove;
And happy each home enjoys his love.

$33. Theodore and Honoria.

A Translation from Boccace. Dryden. Of all the cities in Romanian lands, The chief, and most renown'd, Ravenna stands, Adorn'd in antient times with arms and arts, And rich inhabitants with gen'rous hearts. But Theodore the brave, above the rest, With gifts of fortune and of nature blest, The foremost place for wealth and honor held, And all in feats of chivalry excell'd.

This noble youth to madness lov'd a dame Of high degree; Honoria was her name; Fair as the fairest, but of haughty mind, And fiercer than became so soft a kind; Proud of her birth (for equab she had none) The rest she scorn'd, but hated him alone; His gifts, his constant courtship, nothing gain'd; For she, the more he lov'd, the more disdain'd. He liv'd with all the pomp he could devise, At tilts and tournaments obtain'd the prize; But found no favor in his lady's eves; Relentless as a rock, the lofty maid Turn'd all to poison that he did or said: Nor prayers, nor tears, nor offer'd vows, could" [strove

move;

The work went backward: and the more he
Tadvance his suit, the farther from her love.
Wearied, at length, and wanting remedy,
He doubted oft, and oft resolv'd to die.
But pride stood ready to prevent the blow,
For who would die to gratify a foe!
His gen'rous mind disdain ́d so mean a fate!
That pass'd, his next endeavour was to hate.
But vainer that relief than all the rest,
The less he hop'd, with more desire possess'd;
Love stood the siege, and would not yield his
breast.

}

Change was the next, but change deceiv'd his

care;

He sought a fairer, but found none so fair.
He would have worn her out by slow degrees,"
As men by fasting starve th' untam'd disease:
But present love requir'd a present ease.
Looking he feeds alone his famish'd eyes,
Feeds ling ring death, but looking not he dies.
Yet still he chose the longest way to fate,
Wasting at once his life, and his estate.

His friends beheld, and pity'd him in vain, For what advice can ease a lover's pain! Absence, the best expedient they could find, Might save the fortune, if not cure the mind: This means they long propos'd, but little gain'd, Yet, after much pursuit, at length obtain'd.

}

Hard you may think it was to give consent, But struggling with his own desires he went, With large expence, and with a pompous train, Provided as to visit France and Spain, Or for some distant voyage o'er the main. But love had clipp'd his wings and eut him short, Confin'd within the purlieus of the court. Three miles he went, nor farther could retreat; His travels ended at his country seat:

To Chassis' pleasing plains he took his way, There pitch'd his teuts, and there resolv'd to stay.

The spring was in the prime; the neighbour

ing grove

Supply'd with birds, the choristers of love:
Music unbought, that minister'd delight
To morning ways, and lull'd his cares by night:
There he discharg'd his friends; but not th
expence

Of frequent treats, and proud magnificence.
He liv'd as kings retire, tho' inore at large
From public business, yet with equal charge;
With house and heart still open to receive;
As well content as love would give him leave:
He would have liv'd more free; but many a guest,
Who could forsake the friend, pursu'd the feast.
It happ'd one morning as his fancy led,
Before his usual hour he left his bed;
To walk within a lonely lawn that stood
On every side surrounded by a wood:
Alone, he walk'd to please his pensive mind,
And sought the deepest solitude to find :
'Twas in a grove of spreading pines he stray'd
The windswithinthe quiv'ring branches play'd,
And dancing trees a mournful music made.
The place itself was suiting to his care,
Uncouth and savage, as the cruel fair.
He wander'd on, unknowing where he went,
Lost in the wood, and on all love intent:
The day already half his race had run,
And summon'd him to due repast at noon,
But love could feel no hunger but his own.

Whilelist'ningtothe murm ring leaveshe stood,
More than a mile immers'd within the wood,
At once the wind was laid; the whisp'ring sound
Was dumb; a rising earthquake rock'dtheground;
With deeper brown the grove was overspread;
A sudden horror seis'd his giddy head,
And his ears tingled, and his color fled;
Nature was in alarm; some danger nigh
Seem'd threaten'd, tho' unseen to mortal eye.
Unus'd to fear, he sunimon'd all his soul,'
And stood collected'in himself, and whole;
Not long for soon a whirlwind rose around,
And from afar he heard a screaming sound,
As of a dame distress'd, who cried for aid,
And fill'd with loud laments the secret shade,

A thicket close beside the grave there stood With briers and brambles choak'd, and dwarfish wood:

From thence the noise, which now approaching

near,

With more distinguish'd notes invades his ear; He rais'd his head, and saw a beauteous maid, With hair dishevell'd, issuing through the shade, Stripp'd of her clothes, and ev'n those parts reveal'd,

Which nodest nature keeps from sight conceal'd. Her face, her hands, her naked limbs were toru, With passing thro' the brakes, and prickly thorn, Two mastiffs gaunt and grim her flight pursue, And oft their fasten'd fangs in blood embru'd: Oft they came up, and pinch'd her tender side; Mercy, O mercy Heaven! she ran, and cry'd;

When

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