Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/314

230 Her Youth and Charms did to my Fancy paint A lewd Adultress, but her Life a Saint. Yet I was absent long, the Goddess too Taught me how far a Woman cou'd be true. Aurora's Treatment much Suspicion bred; Besides, who truly love, ev'n Shadows dread. I strait impatient for the Tryal grew, What Courtship back'd with richest Gifts cou'd do. Aurora's Envy aided my Design, And lent me Features far unlike to mine. In this Disguise to my own House I came, But all was chaste, no conscious Sign of Blame: With thousand Arts I scarce Admittance found, And then beheld her weeping on the Ground For her lost Husband; hardly I retain'd My Purpose, scarce the wish'd Embrace refrain'd. How charming was her Grief! Then, Phocus, guess What killing Beauties waited on her Dress. Her constant Answer, when my Suit I prest, Forbear, my Lord's dear Image guards this Breast; Who-e'er he is, whatever Cause detains, Who-e'er has his, my Heart unmov'd remains. What greater Proofs of Truth than these cou'd be? Yet I persist, and urge my Destiny. At length, she found when my own Form return'd, Her jealous Lover there, whose Loss she mourn'd. Enrag'd with my Suspicion, swift as Wind, She fled at once from me and all Mankind; And so became, her Purpose to retain, A Nymph, and Huntress in Diana's Train: Forsaken thus, I found my Flames encrease, I own'd my Folly, and I su'd for Peace. It was a Fault, but not of Guilt, to move Such Punishment, a Fault of too much Love. Thus I retriev'd her to my longing Arms, And many happy Days possess'd her Charms. But