Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/177

Book 4. Timbrels, and Boxen Pipes, with mingled Cries, Swell up in Sounds confus'd, and rend the Skies. Come, Bacchus, come propitious, all implore, And act thy sacred Orgies o'er and o'er. But Mineus' Daughters, while these Rites were pay'd, At home, impertinently busie, stay'd. Their wicked Tasks they ply with various Art, And thro' the Loom the sliding Shuttle dart; Or at the Fire to comb the Wooll they stand, Or twirl the Spindle with a dext'rous Hand. Guilty themselves, they force the Guiltless in; Their Maids, who share the Labour, share the Sin. At last one Sister cries, who nimbly knew To draw nice Threads, and wind the finest Clue, While others idly rove, and Gods revere, Their fancy'd Gods! they know not who, or where; Let us, whom Pallas taught her better Arts, Still working, cheer with mirthful Chat our Hearts, And to deceive the Time, let me prevail With each by turns to tell some antique Tale. She said: her Sisters lik'd the Humour well, And smiling, bad her the first Story tell. But she a while profoundly seem'd to muse, Perplex'd amid Variety to chuse: And knew not, whether she should first relate The poor Dircetis, and her wond'rous Fate. The Palestines believe it to a Man, And show the Lake, in which her Scales began. Or if she rather should the Daughter sing, Who in the hoary Verge of Life took Wing; Who soar'd from Earth, and dwelt in Tow'rs on high, And now a dove, she flits along the Sky. Or how lewd Naïs, when her Lust was cloy'd, To Fishes turn'd the Youths, she had enjoy'd, By pow'rful Verse, and Herbs; Effects most strange! At last the Changer shar'd her self the Change. O