Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/217

Book 13. On Beds of Tap'stry plac'd aloft, they dine With Ceres' Gift, and flowing Bowls of Wine; When thus Anchises spoke, amidst the Feast, Say, mitred Monarch, Phœbus' chosen Priest, Or (e'er from Troy by cruel Fate expell'd) When first mine Eyes these sacred Walls beheld, A Son, and twice two Daughters crown'd thy Bliss? Or errs my Mem'ry, and I judge amiss? The Royal Prophet shook his hoary Head, With snowy Fillets bound, and sighing, said; Thy Mem'ry errs not, Prince; thou saw'st me then, The happy Father of so large a Train; Behold me now, (such Turns of Chance befal The Race of Man!) almost bereft of all. For (ah!) what Comfort can my Son bestow, What Help afford to mitigate my Woe! While far from hence, in Andros' Isle he reigns, (From him so nam'd) and there my Place sustains. Him Delius Præscience gave; the twice-born God A Boon more wond'rous on the Maids bestow'd. Whate'er they touch'd, he gave them to transmute, (A Gift past Credit, and above their Suit,) To Ceres, Bacchus, and Minerva's Fruit. How great their Value, and how rich their Use, Whose only Touch such Treasures could produce! The dire Destroyer of the Trojan Reign, Fierce Agamemnon, such a Prize to gain, (A Proof we also were design'd by Fate To feel the Tempest, that o'erturn'd your State) With Force superior, and a Ruffian Crew, From these weak Arms, the helpless Virgins drew; And sternly bad them use the Grant Divine, To keep the Fleet in Corn, and Oil, and Wine. Each, as they could, escap'd: Two strove to gain Eubæa's Isle, and Two their Brother's Reign. The