Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/284

200 Here boldly they demand the Golden Prize Of Scythia's King, who sternly thus replies: That mighty Labours they must first o'ercome, Or sail their Argo thence unfreighted home. Mean while Medea, seiz'd with fierce Desire, By Reason strives to quench the raging Fire; But strives in vain!Some God (she said) withstands, And Reason's baffl'd Council countermands. What unseen Pow'r does this Disorder move? 'Tis Love,at leaft 'tis like, what Men call Love. Else wherefore shou'd the King's Commands appear To me too hard?But so indeed they are. Why shou'd I for a Stranger fear, lest he Shou'd perish, whom I did but lately see? His Death, or Safety, what are they to me? Wretch, from thy Virgin-Breast this Flame expel, And soonOh cou'd I, all wou'd then be well! But Love, resistless Love, my Soul invades; Discretion this, Affection that perswades. I see the Right, and I approve it too, Condemn the Wrong,and yet the Wrong pursue. Why, Royal Maid, shou'dst thou desire to wed A Wanderer, and court a foreign Bed? Thy native Land, tho' barb'rous, can present A Bridegroom worth a Royal Bride's Consent: And whether this Advent'rer lives, or dies, In Fate, and Fortune's fickle Pleasure lies. Yet may he live! for to the Pow'rs above, A Virgin, led by no Impulse of Love, So just a Suit may, for the Guiltless, move. Whom wou'd not Jason's Valour, Youth, and Blood Invite? or cou'd these Merits be withstood, At least his charming Person must encline The hardest HeartI'm sure 'tis so with mine! Yet, if I help him not, the flaming Breath Of Bulls, and Earth-born Foes must be his Death. Or,