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These folemn feafts propitious Phoebus please : Thefe honours, ftill renew'd, his antient wrath appeafe.

But fay, illuftrious guest (adjoin'd the King) What name you bear, from what high race you fpring?


The noble Tydeus ftands confefs'd, and known Our neighbour Prince, and heir of Calydon. Relate your fortunes, while the friendly night And filent hours to various talk invite.


The Theban bends on earth his gloomy eyes, Confus'd, and fadly thus at length replies : Before these altars how fhall I proclaim (Oh gen'rous prince) my nation, or my name, Or thro' what veins our ancient blood has roll'd? Let the fad tale for ever reft untold! 801

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Yet if propitious to a wretch unknown,
You seek to share in forrows not your own;
Know then from Cadmus I derive my race,
Jocafta's fon, and Thebes my native place. 805
To whom the King (who felt his gen'rous breast
Touch'd with concern for his unhappy guest)
Replies:-Ah why forbears the fon to name
His wretched father known too well by fame?

Novit, et Arctoïs fi quis de folibus horret,
Quique bibit Gangen, aut nigrum occafibus intrat
Oceanum, et fi quos incerto littore Syrtes
Deftituunt, ne perge queri, cafufque priorum
Annumerare tibi. noftro quoque fanguine multum
Erravit pietas. nec culpa nepotibus obftat. 820
Tu modo diffimilis rebus mereare fecundis
Excufare tuos. fed jam temone fupino
Languet Hyperboreae glacialis portitor ursae. 825
Fundite vina focis, fervatoremque parentum
Latoïden votis iterumque iterumque canamus.


Phobe parens, feu te Lyciae Pataraea nivofis Exercent dumeta jugis, feu rore pudico Caftaliae flavos amor eft tibi mergere crines ; Seu Trojam Thymbraeus habes, ubi fama volentem Ingratis Phrygios humeris fubiiffe molares:

Fame, that delights around the world to stray, Scorns not to take our Argos in her way. 811 Ev'n those who dwell where funs at diftance roll, In northern wilds, and freeze beneath the pole; And those who tread the burning Libyan lands, The faithless Syrtes and the moving fands; 815 Who view the western fea's extremeft bounds, Or drink of Ganges in their eastern grounds; All these the woes of Oedipus have known, Your fates, your furies, and your haunted town. If on the fons the parents crimes defcend, 820 What Prince from those his lineage can defend? Be this thy comfort, that 'tis thine t'efface With virtuous acts thy ancestor's disgrace, And be thyself the honour of thy race. But fee! the stars begin to steal away, And shine more faintly at approaching day; Now pour the wine; and in your tuneful lays Once more refound the great Apollo's praise.


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Oh father Phœbus! whether Lycia's coaft 829 And fnowy mountain, thy bright presence boast ; Whether to sweet Castalia thou repair, And bathe in filver dews thy yellow hair ;

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Seu juvat Aegaeum feriens Latonius umbra
Cynthus, et affiduam pelago non quaerere Delon:
Tela tibi, longeque feros lentandus in hoftes
Arcus, et aetherii dono ceffere parentes
Aeternum florere genas. tu doctus iniquas
Parcarum praenôffe minas, fatumque quod ultra eft,
Et fummo placitura Jovi. quis letifer annus, 840
Bella quibus populis, mutent quæ fceptra cometae.
Tu Phryga fubmittis citharae. tu matris honori
Terrigenam Tityon Stygiis extendis arenis.
Te viridis Python, Thebanaque mater ovantem,
Horruit in pharetris. ultrix tibi torva Megaera 850
Jejunum Phlegyam fubter cava faxa jacentem
Aeterno premit accubitu, dapibufque profanis
Inftimulat: fed mifta famem fastidia vincunt.
Adfis o, memor hofpitii, Junoniaque arva


Or pleas'd to find fair Delos float no more,
Delight in Cynthus, and the fhady shore;
Or chufe thy feat in Ilion's proud abodes, 835
The shining structures rais'd by lab'ring Gods:
By thee the bow and mortal fhafts are born;
Eternal charms thy blooming youth adorn :
Skill'd in the laws of fecret fate above,
And the dark counfels of almighty Jove, 840
"Tis thine the feeds of future war to know,
The change of Sceptres, and impending woe;
When direful meteors spread thro' glowing air
Long trails of light, and shake their blazing hair.
Thy rage the Phrygian felt, who durst aspire 845
T'excel the mufic of thy heav'nly lyre;
Thy shafts aveng'd lewd Tityus' guilty flame,
Th' immortal victim of
my mother's fame;
Thy hand flew Python, and the dame who loft
Her num'rous offspring for a fatal boast.
In Phlegyas' doom thy just revenge appears,
Condemn'd to Furies and eternal fears;
He views his food, but dreads, with lifted eye,
The mouldring rock that trembles from on high.

Propitious hear our pray'r, O Pow'r divine! And on thy hospitable Argos fhine,


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