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,