Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/255

Book 6. The Theban Towns my Majesty adore, And neighb'ring Phrygia trembles at my Pow'r: Raised by my Husband's Lute, with Turrets crown'd, Our lofty City stands secur'd around, Within my Court, where-e'er I turn my Eyes, Unbounded Treasures to my Prospect rise: With these my Face I modestly may name, As not unworthy of so high a Claim; Seven are my Daughters, of a Form Divine, With seven fair Sons, an indefective Line. Go, Fools! consider this; and ask the Cause From which my Pride its strong Presumption draws; Consider this; and then prefer to me Cæus the Titan's vagrant Progeny; To whom, in Travel, the whole spacious Earth No Room afforded for her spurious Birth. Not the least Part in Earth, in Heaven, or Seas, Would grant your outlaw'd Goddess any Ease: Till pitying her's, from his own wandring Case, Delos, the floating Island, gave a Place. There she a Mother was, of two at most; Only the seventh Part of what I boast. My Joys all are beyond Suspicion fix'd; With no Pollutions of Misfortune mix'd; Safe on the Basis of my Pow'r I stand, Above the Reach of Fortune's fickle Hand. Lessen she may my inexhausted Store, And much destroy, yet still must leave me more. Suppose it possible that some may dye Of this my num'rous lovely Progeny; Still with Latona I might safely vye. Who, by her scanty Breed, scarce fit to name, But just escapes the childless Woman's Shame. Go then, with Speed your laurel'd Heads uncrown, And leave the silly Farce you have begun. Rh