Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 2) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/55

Book 9. Oft he my Neck, and nimble Legs assails, He seems to grasp me, but as often fails. Each Part he now invades with eager Hand; Safe in my Bulk, immoveable I stand. So when loud Storms break high, and foam and roar Against some Mole, that stretches from the Shore; The firm Foundation lasting Tempests braves, Defies the warring Winds, and driving Waves. Awhile we breathe, then forward rush amain, Renew the Combat, and our Ground maintain; Foot strove with Foot, I prone extend my Breast, Hands war with Hands, and Forehead Forehead prest. Thus have I seen two furious Bulls engage, Inflam'd with equal Love, and equal Rage; Each claims the fairest Heifer of the Grove, And Conquest only can decide their Love: The trembling Herds survey the Fight from far, Till Victory decides th' important War. Three times in vain he strove my Joints to wrest, To force my Hold, and throw me from his Breast; The fourth he broke my Gripe, that clasp'd him round, Then with new Force he stretch'd me on the Ground; Close to my Back the mighty Burthen clung, As if a Mountain o'er my Limbs were flung. Believe my Tale; nor do I, boastful, aim By feign'd Narration to extol my Fame. No sooner from his Grasp I Freedom get, Unlock my Arms, that flow'd with trickling Sweat, But quick he seiz'd me, and renew'd the Strife, As my exhausted Bosom pants for Life: My Neck he gripes, my Knee to Earth he strains; I fall, and bite the Sand with Shame, and Pains. O'er-match'd in Strength, to Wiles, and Arts I take, And slip his Hold, in Form of speckled Snake; Who, when I wreath'd in Spires my Body round, Or show'd my forky Tongue with hissing Sound, Rh