This page has been validated.
Book 3.
Ovid's Metamorphoses
95
With Pleasure all the hideous Trunk survey;
Then pull'd and tore the mangled Limbs away,
As starting in the Pangs of Death it lay.
Soon ⟨a⟩s the Wood its leafy Honours casts,
Blown off and scatter'd by autumnal Blasts,
⟨With⟩ such a sudden Death lay Pentheus slain,
And in a thousand Pieces strow'd the Plain.
By so distinguishing a Judgment aw'd,
The Thebans tremble, and confess the God.
The End of the Third Book.
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/8/86/Ovid%27s_Metamorphoses_%28Vol._1%29_-_Book_1_Endpiece_2.png/250px-Ovid%27s_Metamorphoses_%28Vol._1%29_-_Book_1_Endpiece_2.png)
OVID's