Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/106

94 Nor only promis'd Secresie, but pray'd She might have Leave to give her offer'd Aid. Good-will, she said, my want of Strength supplies, And Diligence shall give what Age denies: If strong Desires thy Mind to Fury move, With Charms, and Med'cines I can cure thy Love: If envious Eyes their hurtful Rays have cast, More pow'rful Verse shall free thee from the Blast: If Heav'n offended sends thee this Disease, Offended Heav'n with Pray'rs we can appease. What then remains, that can these Cares procure? Thy House is flourishing, thy Fortune sure: Thy careful Mother yet in Health survives, And, to thy Comfort, thy kind Father lives. The Virgin started at her Father's Name, And sigh'd profoundly, conscious of the Shame: Nor yet the Nurse her impious Love divin'd, But yet surmis'd that Love disturb'd her Mind: Thus thinking, she pursu'd her Point, and laid, And lull'd within her Lap the mourning Maid; Then softly sooth'd her thus; I guess your Grief: You love, my Child; your Love shall find Relief. My long-experienc'd Age shall be your Guide; Rely on that, and lay Distrust aside: No Breath of Air shall on the Secret blow, Nor shall (what most you fear) your Father know. Struck once again, as with a Thunder-clap, The guilty Virgin bounded from her Lap, And threw her Body prostrate on the Bed, And, to conceal her Blushes, hid her Head; There silent lay, and warn'd her with her Hand To go: But she receiv'd not the Command; Remaining still importunate to know: Then Myrrha thus; Or ask no more, or go; I prithee go, or staying spare my Shame; What thou would'st hear, is impious ev'n to name. A