John Dryden - Delphi Poets Series

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by John Dryden


  Sing’d with the Flames, and with the Bolts transfixt,

  With Native Earth their Blood the Monsters mixt;

  The Blood, indu’d with animating Heat,

  Did in th’ impregnant Earth, new Sons beget:

  They, like the Seed from which they sprung, accurst, 205

  Against the Gods Immortal Hatred nurst:

  An Impious, Arrogant, and Cruel Brood;

  Expressing their Original from Blood.

  Which when the King of Gods beheld from high

  (Withal revolving in his Memory, 210

  What he himself had found on Earth of late,

  Lycaon’s Guilt, and his Inhuman Treate)

  He sigh’d; nor longer with his Pity strove;

  But kindled to a Wrath becoming Jove;

  Then, call’d a General Council of the Gods; 215

  Who Summon’d, Issue from their Blest Abodes,

  And fill th’ Assembly, with a shining Train.

  A way there is, in Heavens expanded Plain,

  Which when the Skies are clear, is seen below,

  And Mortals, by the Name of Milky, know. 220

  The Ground-work is of Stars; through which the Road

  Lyes open to the Thunderer’s Abode.

  The Gods of greater Nations dwell around,

  And on the Right and Left the Palace bound;

  The Commons where they can, the Nobler sort, 225

  With Winding-doors wide open, front the Court.

  This Place, as far as Earth with Heav’n may vie,

  I dare to call the Loovre of the Skie.

  When all were plac’d, in Seats distinctly known,

  And he, their Father, had assum’d the Throne, 230

  Upon his Iv’ry Sceptre first he leant,

  Then shook his Head, that shook the Firmament:

  Air, Earth, and Seas, obey’d th’Almighty nod;

  And with a gen’ral fear, confess’d the God.

  At length, with Indignation, thus he broke 235

  His awful Silence, and the Pow’rs bespoke.

  I was not more concern’d in that Debate

  Of Empire, when our Universal State

  Was put to hazard, and the Giant Race

  Our Captive Skies were ready to imbrace: 240

  For tho’ the Foe was fierce, the Seeds of all

  Rebellion, sprung from one Original;

  Now wheresoever ambient waters glide,

  All are corrupt, and all must be destroy’d.

  Let me this Holy Protestation make, 245

  By Hell, and Hell’s inviolable Lake,

  I try’d whatever in the God-Head lay;

  But gangreen’d Members must be lopt away,

  Before the Nobler Parts are tainted to decay.

  There dwells below, a race of Demi-Gods, 250

  Of Nymphs in Waters, and of Fawns in Woods;

  Who, tho not worthy yet, in Heav’n to live,

  Let ‘em, at least, enjoy that Earth we give.

  Can these be thought securely lodg’d below,

  When I my self, who no Superior know, 255

  I, who have Heav’n and Earth at my command,

  Have been attempted by Lycaon’s Hand?

  At this a Murmur thro’ the Synod went,

  And with one Voice they vote his Punishment.

  Thus, when Conspiring Traytors dar’d to doom 260

  The fall of Cæsar, and in him of Rome,

  The Nations trembled, with a pious Fear;

  All anxious for their Earthly Thunderer:

  Nor was their care, O Cæsar! less esteem’d

  By thee, than that of Heav’n for Jove was deem’d; 265

  Who with his Hand and Voice, did first restrain

  Their Murmurs, then resum’d his Speech again.

  The Gods to Silence were compos’d, and sate

  With Reverence, due to his Superior State.

  Cancel your pious Cares; already he 270

  Has paid his Debt to Justice, and to me.

  Yet what his Crimes, and what my Judgments were,

  Remains for me thus briefly to declare.

  The Clamours of this vile degenerate Age,

  The Cries of Orphans, and th’ Oppressor’s Rage, 275

  Had reach’d the Stars; I will descend, said I,

  In hope to prove this loud Complaint a Lye.

  Disguis’d in Humane Shape, I Travell’d round

  The World, and more than what I hear’d I found.

  O’re Mænalus I took my steepy way, 280

  By Caverns infamous for Beasts of Prey.

  Then cross’d Cyllenè, and the piny shade,

  More infamous by Curst Lycaon made:

  Dark Night had cover’d Heaven and Earth, before

  I enter’d his Unhospitable Door. 285

  Just at my entrance, I display’d the Sign

  That somewhat was approaching of Divine.

  The prostrate People pray: the Tyrant grins,

  And, adding Prophanation to his Sins,

  I’ll try, said he, and if a God appear, 290

  To prove his Deity, shall cost him dear.

  ’Twas late; the Graceless Wretch my Death prepares,

  When I shou’d soundly Sleep, opprest with Cares:

  This dire Experiment he chose, to prove

  If I were Mortal, or undoubted Jove; 295

  But first he had resolv’d to taste my Pow’r:

  Not long before, but in a luckless hour

  Some Legates sent from the Molossian State,

  Were on a peaceful Errant come to Treat:

  Of these he Murders one, he boils the Flesh, 300

  And lays the mangl’d Morsels in a Dish:

  Some part he Roasts; then serves it up, so drest,

  And bids me welcome to this Humane Feast.

  Mov’d with Disdain, the Table I o’re-turn’d;

  And with avenging Flames, the Palace burn’d. 305

  The Tyrant in a fright, for shelter, gains

  The Neighb’ring Fields, and scours along the Plains.

  Howling he fled, and fain he would have spoke,

  But Humane Voice his Brutal Tongue forsook.

  About his lips, the gather’d Foam he churns, 310

  And breathing slaughters, still with Rage he burns,

  But on the bleating Flock his Fury turns.

  His Mantle, now his Hide, with rugged hairs

  Cleaves to his back; a famish’d face he bears;

  His arms descend, his shoulders sink away, 315

  To multiply his legs for chace of Prey.

  He grows a Wolf, his hoariness remains,

  And the same rage in other Members reigns.

  His eyes still sparkle in a narr’wer space,

  His jaws retain the grin, and violence of his face. 320

  This was a single ruine, but not one

  Deserves so just a punishment alone.

  Mankind’s a Monster, and th’ Ungodly times,

  Confed’rate into guilt, are sworn to Crimes.

  All are alike involv’d in ill, and all 325

  Must by the same relentless Fury fall.

  Thus ended he; the greater Gods assent,

  By Clamours urging his severe intent;

  The less fill up the cry for punishment.

  Yet still with pity they remember Man; 330

  And mourn as much as Heav’nly Spirits can.

  They ask, when those were lost of humane Birth,

  What he wou’d do with all this waste of Earth:

  If his dispeopl’d World he would resign

  To Beasts, a mute, and more ignoble Line; 335

  Neglected Altars must no longer smoke,

  If none were left to worship and invoke.

  To whom the Father of the Gods reply’d:

  Lay that unnecessary fear aside:

  Mine be the care, new People to provide. 340

  I will from wondrous Principles ordain

  A Race unlike the firs
t, and try my skill again.

  Already had he toss’d the flaming Brand,

  And roll’d the Thunder in his spatious hand;

  Preparing to discharge on Seas and Land: 345

  But stopp’d, for fear thus violently driv’n,

  The Sparks should catch his Axle-tree of Heav’n.

  Remembring, in the Fates, a time when Fire

  Shou’d to the Battlements of Heav’n aspire,

  And all his blazing Worlds above shou’d burn, 350

  And all th’ inferiour Globe to Cinders turn.

  His dire Artill’ry thus dismist, he bent

  His thoughts to some securer Punishment:

  Concludes to pour a Watry Deluge down;

  And what he durst not burn, resolves to drown. 355

  The Northern breath, that freezes Floods, he binds;

  With all the race of Cloud-dispelling Winds

  The South he loos’d, who Night and Horror brings;

  And Foggs are shaken from his flaggy Wings.

  From his divided Beard, two Streams he pours; 360

  His head and rhumy eyes distil in showers.

  With Rain his Robe and heavy Mantle flow:

  And lazy mists are lowring on his brow.

  Still as he swept along, with his clench’t fist,

  He squeez’d the Clouds; th’ imprison’d Clouds resist: 365

  The Skies, from Pole to Pole, with peals resound:

  And show’rs inlarg’d come pouring on the ground.

  Then, clad in Colours of a various dye,

  Junonian Iris breeds a new supply

  To feed the Clouds: Impetuous Rain descend; 370

  The bearded Corn beneath the Burden bends;

  Defrauded Clowns deplore their perish’d grain;

  And the long labours of the Year are vain.

  Nor from his Patrimonial Heav’n alone

  Is Jove content to pour his Vengeance down: 375

  Aid from his Brother of the Seas he craves,

  To help him with Auxiliary Waves.

  The watry Tyrant calls his Brooks and Floods,

  Who rowl from mossie Caves (their moist abodes;)

  And with perpetual Urns his Palace fill: 380

  To whom in brief, he thus imparts his Will.

  Small exhortation needs; your Pow’rs employ:

  And this bad World, so Jove requires, destroy.

  Let loose the Reins to all your watry Store:

  Bear down the Damms, and open every door, 385

  The Floods, by Nature Enemies to Land,

  And proudly swelling with their new Command,

  Remove the living Stones, that stopt their way,

  And gushing from their Source, augment the Sea.

  Then, with his Mace, their Monarch struck the Ground: 390

  With inward trembling, Earth receiv’d the Wound;

  And rising streams a ready passage found.

  Th’ expanded Waters gather on the Plain,

  They flote the Fields, and over-top the Grain;

  Then rushing onwards, with a sweepy sway, 395

  Bear Flocks, and Folds, and lab’ring Hinds away.

  Nor safe their Dwellings were; for, sap’d by Floods,

  Their Houses fell upon their Household Gods.

  The solid Piles, too strongly built to fall,

  High o’re their Heads, behold a watry Wall: 400

  Now Seas and Earth were in confusion lost;

  A World of Waters, and without a Coast.

  One climbs a Cliff; one in his Boat is born,

  And Ploughs above, where late he sow’d his Corn.

  Others o’re Chimney tops and Turrets row, 405

  And drop their Anchors on the Meads below:

  Or downward driv’n, they bruise the tender Vine,

  Or tost aloft, are knock’t against a Pine.

  And where of late the Kids had cropt the Grass,

  The Monsters of the deep now take their place 410

  Insulting Nereids on the Cities ride,

  And wondring Dolphins o’re the Palace glide.

  On leaves and masts of mighty Oaks they brouze.

  And their broad Finns entangle in the Boughs.

  The frighted Wolf now swims amongst the Sheep; 415

  The yellow Lyon wanders in the deep:

  His rapid force no longer helps the Boar:

  The Stag swims faster, than he ran before.

  The Fowls, long beating on their Wings in vain,

  Despair of Land, and drop into the Main. 420

  Now Hills and Vales no more distinction know,

  And levell’d Nature lies oppress’d below.

  The most of Mortals perish in the Flood:

  The small remainder dies for want of Food.

  A Mountain of stupendous height there stands 425

  Betwixt th’ Athenian and Bœotian Lands,

  The bound of fruitful Fields, while Fields they were,

  But then a Field of Waters did appear:

  Parnassus is its name; whose forky rise

  Mounts through the Clouds, and mates the lofty Skies. 430

  High on the Summet of this dubious Cliff,

  Deucalion wafting, moor’d his little Skiff.

  He with his Wife were only left behind

  Of perish’d Man; they two were Humane Kind.

  The Mountain Nymphs and Themis they adore, 435

  And from her Oracles relief implore.

  The most upright of Mortal Men was he;

  The most sincere and holy Woman, she.

  When Jupiter, surveying Earth from high,

  Beheld it in a Lake of Water lie, 440

  That, where so many Millions lately liv’d,

  But two, the best of either Sex, surviv’d,

  He loos’d the Northern Wind; fierce Boreas flies

  To puff away the Clouds, and purge the Skies:

  Serenely, while he blows, the Vapours, driven, 445

  Discover Heav’n to Earth, and Earth to Heaven.

  The Billows fall, while Neptune lays his Mace

  On the rough Sea, and smooths its furrow’d face,

  Already Triton, at his call appears

  Above the Waves; a Tyrian Robe he wears; 450

  And in his Hand a crooked Trumpet bears.

  The Soveraign bids him peaceful Sounds inspire,

  And give the Waves the signal to retire.

  His writhen Shell he takes; whose narrow vent

  Grows by degrees into a large extent; 455

  Then gives it breath; the blast, with doubling sound,

  Runs the wide Circuit of the World around.

  The Sun first heard it, in his early East,

  And met the rattling Eccho’s in the West.

  The Waters, listning to the Trumpets roar, 460

  Obey the Summons, and forsake the Shoar.

  A thin Circumference of Land appears;

  And Earth, but not at once, her visage rears,

  And peeps upon the Seas from upper Grounds:

  The Streams, but just contain’d within their bounds. 465

  By slow degrees into their Channels crawl

  And Earth increases as the Waters fall.

  In longer time the tops of Trees appear,

  Which Mud on their dishonour’d Branches bear.

  At length the World was all restor’d to view, 470

  But desolate, and of a sickly hue:

  Nature beheld her self, and stood aghast,

  A dismal Desart, and a silent Waste.

  Which when Deucalion, with a piteous Look,

  Beheld, he wept, and thus to Pyrrha spoke: 475

  Oh Wife, oh Sister, oh oh all thy kind

  The best and only Creature left behind,

  By Kindred, Love, and now by Dangers joyn’d;

  Of Multitudes, who breath’d the common Air,

  We two remain; a Species in a pair; 480

  The rest the Seas have swallow’d; nor have we

  Ev’n of this
wretched life a certainty.

  The Clouds are still above; and, while I speak,

  A second Deluge o’re our Heads may break.

  Shou’d I be snatch’d from hence, and thou remain, 485

  Without relief, or Partner of thy pain,

  How cou’d’st thou such a wretched Life sustain?

  Shou’d I be left, and thou be lost, the Sea,

  That bury’d her I lov’d, shou’d bury me.

  Oh cou’d our Father his old Arts inspire, 490

  And make me Heir of his informing Fire,

  That so I might abolisht Man retrieve,

  And perisht People in new Souls might live.

  But Heav’n is pleas’d, nor ought we to complain,

  That we, th’ Examples of Mankind remain. 495

  He said: the careful couple joyn their Tears,

  And then invoke the Gods, with pious Prayers.

  Thus, in Devotion having eas’d their grief,

  From Sacred Oracles they seek relief:

  And to Cephysus Brook their way pursue: 500

  The Stream was troubl’d, but the Foord they knew.

  With living Waters in the Fountain bred,

  They sprinkle first, their Garments, and their Head,

  Then took the way which to the Temple led.

  The Roofs were all defil’d with Moss and Mire, 505

  The Desart Altars void of Solemn Fire.

  Before the Gradual, prostrate they ador’d,

  The Pavement kiss’d, and thus the Saint implor’d.

  O Righteous Themis, if the Pow’rs above

  By Pray’rs are bent to pity, and to love; 510

  If humane Miseries can move their mind;

  If yet they can forgive, and yet be kind;

  Tell how we may restore, by second birth,

  Mankind, and People desolated Earth.

  Then thus the gracious Goddess, nodding, said; 515

  Depart, and with your Vestments veil your head:

  And stooping lowly down, with loosn’d Zones,

  Throw each behind your backs, your mighty Mother’s bones.

  Amaz’d the pair; and mute with wonder, stand,

  Till Pyrrha first refus’d the dire command. 520

  Forbid it Heav’n, said she, that I shou’d tear

  Those Holy Reliques from the Sepulchre:

  They ponder’d the mysterious Words again,

  For some new sence; and long they sought in vain.

  At length Deucalion clear’d his cloudy brow, 525

  And said; The dark Ænigma will allow

  A meaning, which, if well I understand,

  From Sacriledge will free the Gods Command:

  This Earth our mighty Mother is, the Stones

  In her capacious Body, are her Bones. 530

  These we must cast behind: with hope and fear,

  The Woman did the new solution hear:

  The Man diffides in his own Augury,

 

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