Beafts to the rocks were fix'd, and all around
Were tribes of stone and marble nations found.
No living eyes fo fell a fight could bear;
Her fnakes themselves, all deadly though they were, Shot backward from her face, and shrunk away for fear.
By her, a rock Titanian, Atlas grew,
And heaven by her the giants did fubdue :
Hard was the fight, and Jove was half difmay'd,
Till Pallas brought the Gorgon to his aid :
The heavenly nation laid aside their fear,
For foon the finish'd the prodigious war;
To mountains turn'd, the monster race remains, 1125
The trophies of her power on the Phlegrean plains.
To feek this monster, and her fate to prove,
The fon of Danaë and golden Jove,
Attempts a flight through airy ways above,
The youth Cyllenian Hermes' aid implor'd;
The god affifted with his wings the fword,
His fword, which late made watchful Argus bleed,
And Iö from her cruel keeper freed :
Unwedded Pallas lent a fifter's aid;
But afk'd, for recompence, Medufa's head.
Eastward the warns her brother bend his flight,
And from the Gorgon realms avert his fight;
Then arms his left with her refulgent shield,
And fhews how there the foe might be beheld.
Deep flumbers had the drouly fiend poffeft,
Such as drew on, and well might seem, her last:
And yet the slept not whole; one half her fnakes
Watchful, to guard their horrid miftiefs, wakes
The rest dishevel'd, loosely, round her head,
And o'er her droufy lids and face were spread.
Backward the youth draws near, nor dares to look,
But blindly, at a venture, aims a stroke:
His faltering hand the virgin goddess guides,
And from the monster's neck her fnaky head divides.
But oh! what art, what numbers, can express
The terrors of the dying Gorgon's face!
What clouds of poison from her lips arife!
What death, what vaft deftruction, threaten'd in her
'Twas fomewhat that immortal gods might fear,
More than the warlike maid herself could bear.
The victor Perfeus ftill had been fubdued,
Though, wary ftill, with eyes averse he stood:
Had not his heavenly fifter's timely care
Veil'd the dread visage with the hiffing hair.
Seiz'd of his prey, heavenwards, uplifted light,
On Hermes' nimble wings, he took his flight.
Now thoughtful of his courfe, he hung in air,
And meant through Europe's happy clime to steer;
Till pitying Pallas warn'd him not to blast
Her fruitful fields, nor lay her cities waste.
For who would not have upwards caft their fight,
Curious to gaze at fuch a wondrous flight?
Therefore, by gales of gentle Zephyrs borne,
To Libya's coaft the hero minds to turn.
Beneath the fultry line, expos'd it lies
To deadly planets, and malignant skies.
Still, with his fiery steeds, the god of day
Drives through that heaven, and makes his burning way.
No land more high erects its lofty head,
The filver moon in dim eclipfe to shade;
If through the fummer figns direct she run,
Nor bends obliquely, north or fouth to shun
The envious earth that hides her from the fun.
Yet could this foil accurft, this barren field,
Increase of deaths, and poisonous harvests yield. 1180
Where-e'er fublime in air the victor flew,
The monster's head diftill'd a deadly dew;
The earth receiv'd the feed, and pregnant grew.
Still as the putrid gore dropt on the fand,
'Twas temper'd up by nature's forming hand ;
The glowing climate makes the work complete,
And broods upon the mass, and lends it genial heat.
First of those plagues the droufy Afp appear'd,
Then firft her creft and fwelling neck the rear'd;
A larger drop of black congealing blood
Distinguish'd her amidst the deadly brood.
Of all the ferpent race are none fo fell,
None with fo many deaths fuch plenteous venom fwell;
Chill in themfelves, our colder climes they fhun,
And choose to bask in Afric's warmer fun;
But Nile no more confines them now: What bound
Can for infatiate avarice be found!
Freighted with Libyan deaths our merchants come,
And poisonous Afps are things of price at Rome.
Her fcaly folds th' Hemorrhoïs unbends,
And her vast length along the sand extends;
Where-e'er she wounds, from every part the blood
Gufhes refiftlefs in a crimson flood.
Amphibious fome do in the Syrts abound,
And now on land, in waters now are found.
Slimy Chelyders the parch'd earth distain,
And trace a reeking furrow on the plain.
The fpotted Cenchris, rich in various dyes,
Shoots in a line, and forth directly flies :
Not Theban marbles are fo gayly dress'd,
Nor with such party-colour'd beauties grac'd.
Safe in his earthly hue and dusky skin,
Th' Ammodites lurks in the fands unfeen:
The Swimmer there the crystal ftream pollutes;
And swift, through air, the flying Javelin fhoots. 1215
The Scytale, ere yet the fpring returns,
There cafts her coat; and there the Dipfas burns;
The Amphisbæna doubly arm'd appears,
At either end a threatening head the rears.
Rais'd on his active tail the Pareas ftands,
And, as he passes, furrows up the fands.
The Prefter by his forming jaws is known;
The Seps invades the flesh and firmer bone,
Diffolves the mass of man, and melts his fabric down.
The Bafilifk, with dreadful hiffings heard,
And from afar by every serpent fear'd,
To distance drives the vulgar, and remains
The lonely monarch of the defert plains.
And you, ye dragons of the scaly race,
Whom glittering gold and fhining armours grace, 1230 In other nations harmless are you found,
This guardian Genii and protectors own'd;
In Afric only are you fatal; there,
On wide-expanded wings, fublime you rear
Your dreadful forms, and drive the yielding air.
The lowing kine in droves you chace, and cull
Some master of the herd, fome mighty bull :
Around his ftubborn fides your tails you twift,
By force comprefs, and burft his brawny cheft.
Not elephants are by their larger fize
Secure, but, with the reft, become your prize.
Refiftless in your might, you all invade,
And for deftruction need not poifon's aid.
Thus, though a thousand plagues around them fpread,
A weary march the hardy foldiers tread,
Through thirst, through toil and death, by Cato led.
Their chief, with pious grief and deep regret,
Each moment mourns his friends untimely fate;
Wondering, he fees fome fmall, fome trivial wound
Extend a valiant Roman on the ground.
Aulus, a noble youth of Tyrrhene blood,
Who bore the standard, on a Dipfas trode;
Backward the wrathful ferpent bent her head,
And, fell with rage, th' unheeded wrong repay'd.
Scarce did fome little mark of hurt remain,
And scarce he found fome little fenfe of pain;
Nor could he yet the danger doubt, nor fear
That death, with all its terrors, threaten'd there.
When lo! unfeen, the fecret venom fpreads,
And every nobler part at once invades ;
Swift flames confume the marrow and the brain,
And the fcorch'd entrails rage with burning pain;
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