Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/48

40 So may the Sea be ruffled with no Storm, But smooth with Calms, as you the Truth inform; So your Deceit may no shy Fishes feel, Till struck, and fasten'd on the bearded Steel. Did not you standing view upon the Strand A wandring Maid? I'm sure I saw her stand; Her Hair disorder'd, and her homely Dress Betray'd her Want, and witness'd her Distress. Me heedless, she reply'd, whoe'er you are, Excuse, attentive to another Care. I settled on the Deep my steady Eye, Fix'd on my Float, and bent on my Employ. And that you may not doubt what I impart, So may the Ocean's God assist my Art, If on the Beach since I my Sport pursu'd, Or Man, or Woman but my self I view'd. Back o'er the Sands, deluded, he withdrew, Whilst she for her old Form put off her new. Her Sire her shifting Pow'r to change perceiv'd, And various Chapmen by her Sale deceiv'd. A Fowl with spangled Plumes, a brinded Steer, Soimetimes a crested Mare, or antler'd Deer: Sold for a Price she parted, to maintain Her starving Parent with dishonest Grain. At last all Means, as all Provisions, fail'd; For the Disease by Remedies prevail'd; His Muscles with a furious Bite he tore, Gorg'd his own tatter'd Flesh, and gulph'd his Gore Wounds were his Feast, his Life to Life a Prey, Supporting Nature by its own Decay. But foreign Stories why shou'd I relate? I too my self can to new Forms translate, Tho' the Variety's not unconfin'd, But fix'd in Number, and restrain'd in Kind: For often I this present Shape retain, Oft curl a Snake the Volumes of my Train. Some-