Page:Ovid's Metamorphoses (Vol. 1) - tr Garth, Dryden, et. al. (1727).djvu/149

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Book 3.
Ovid's Metamorphoses.
73

The pointed Jav'lin warded off his Rage:
Mad with his Pains, and furious to engage,
The Serpent champs the Steel, and bites the Spear,
'Till Blood and Venom all the Point besmear.
But still the Hurt he yet receiv'd was slight;
For, whilst the Champion with redoubled Might
Strikes home the Jav'lin, his retiring Foe
Shrinks from the Wound, and disappoints the Blow.
The dauntless Heroe still pursues his Stroke,
And presses forward, 'till a knotty Oak
Retards his Foe, and stops him in the Rear;
Full in his Throat he plung'd the fatal Spear.
That in th' extended Neck a Passage found,
And pierc'd the solid Timber through the Wound.
Fix'd to the reeling Trunk, with many a Stroke
Of his huge Tail he lash'd the sturdy Oak;
Till spent with Toil, and lab'ring hard for Breath,
He now lay twisting in the Pangs of Death.
Cadmus beheld him wallow in a Flood
Of swimming Poison, intermix'd with Blood;
When suddenly a Speech was heard from high,
(The Speech was heard, nor was the Speaker nigh)
"Why dost thou thus with secret Pleasure see,
"Insulting Man! what thou thy self shalt be?
Astonish'd at the Voice, he stood amaz'd,
And all around with inward Horror gaz'd:
When Pallas swift descending from the Skies,
Pallas, the Guardian of the Bold and Wise,
Bids him plow up the Field, and scatter round
The Dragon's Teeth o'er all the furrow'd Ground;
Then tells the Youth how to his wond'ring Eyes
Embattled Armies from the Field should rise.
He sows the Teeth at Pallas's Command,
And flings the future People from his Hand.
The Clods grow warm, and crumble where he sows;
And now the pointed Spears advance in Rows;

Vol I.
D
Now