And his keen sabre in his hand resumes:
Then nobly spurns the ground, and upwards springs,
And cuts the liquid air with sounding wings.
O’er various seas, and various lands, he pass’d,
Till Ethiopia’s shore appear’d at last.
Andromeda was there, doom’d to atone
By her own ruin follies not her own:
And if injustice in a god can be,
Such was the Libyan god’s unjust decree.
Chain’d to a rock she stood; young Perseus stay’d
His rapid flight, to view the beauteous maid.
So sweet her frame, so exquisitely fine,
She seem’d a statue by a hand divine,
Had not the wind her waving tresses show’d,
And down her cheeks the melting sorrows flow’d.
Her faultless form the hero’s bosom fires;
The more he looks, the more he still admires.
The admirer almost had forgot to fly,
And swift descended, fluttering from on high:
“O virgin! worthy no such chains to prove,
But pleasing chains in the soft folds of love;
Thy country, and thy name,” he said, “disclose,
And give a true rehearsal of thy woes.”
A quick reply her bashfulness refused,
To the free converse of a man unused.
Her rising blushes had concealment found
From her spread hands, but that her hands were bound.
She acted to her full extent of power,
And bathed her face with a fresh, silent shower.
But by degrees in innocence grown bold,
Her name, her country, and her birth she told:
And how she suffer’d for her mother’s pride,
Who with the Nereids once in beauty vied.
Part yet untold, the seas began to roar,
And mounting billows tumbled to the shore.
Above the waves a monster raised his head,
His body o’er the deep was widely spread:
Onward he flounced; aloud the virgin cries;
Each parent to her shrieks in shrieks replies:
But she had deepest cause to rend the skies.
Weeping, to her they cling; no sign appears
Of help, they only lend their helpless tears.
“Too long you vent your sorrows,” Perseus said,
“Short is the hour, and swift the time of aid;
In me the son of thundering Jove behold,
Got in a kindly shower of fruitful gold:
Medusa’s snaky head is now my prey,
And through the clouds I boldly wing my way:
If such desert be worthy of esteem,
And if your daughter I from death redeem,
Shall she be mine? Shall it not then be thought
A bride so lovely was too cheaply bought?
For her my arms I willingly employ,
If I may beauties, which I save, enjoy.”
The parents eagerly the terms embrace:
For who would slight such terms in such a case?
Nor her alone they promise, but, beside,
The dowry of a kingdom with the bride.
As well-rigg’d galleys, which slaves, sweating, row,
With their sharp beaks the whiten’d ocean plough;
So, when the monster moved, still at his back
The furrow’d waters left a foamy track.
Now to the rock he was advanced so nigh,
Whirl’d from a sling, a stone the space would fly.
Then, bounding upwards, the brave Perseus sprung,
And in mid air on hovering pinions hung.
His shadow quickly floated on the main;
The monster could not his wild rage restrain,
But at the floating shadow leap’d in vain.
As when Jove’s bird a speckled serpent spies,
Which in the shine of Phoebus basking lies,
Unseen, he souses down, and bears away,
Truss’d from behind, the vainly hissing prey.
To writhe his neck the labour naught avails,
Too deep the imperial talons pierce his scales.
Thus the wing’d hero now descends, now soars,
And at his pleasure the vast monster gores.
Full in his back, swift stooping from above,
The crooked sabre to its hilt he drove.
The monster raged, impatient of the pain,
First bounded high, and then sunk low again.
Now, like a savage boar, when chafed with wounds,
And bay’d with opening mouths of hungry hounds,
He on the foe turns with collected might,
Who still eludes him with an airy flight;
And, wheeling round, the scaly armour tries
Of his thick sides; his thinner tail now plies;
Till, from repeated strokes, out gush’d a flood,
And the waves redden’d with the streaming blood.
At last the dropping wings, befoam’d all o’er,
With flaggy heaviness their master bore:
A rock he spied, whose humble head was low,
Bare at an ebb, but cover’d at a flow.
A ridgy hold, he, thither flying, gain’d,
And with one hand his bending weight sustain’d;
With the other, vig’rous blows he dealt around,
And the home thrusts the expiring monster own’d.
In deaf’ning shouts the glad applauses rise,
And peal on peal runs rattling through the skies.
The saviour-youth the royal pair confess,
And with heaved hands their daughter’s bridegroom bless
The beauteous bride moves on, now loosed from chains,
The cause, and sweet reward, of all the hero’s pains.
Meantime on shore triumphant Perseus stood,
And purged his hands, smear’d with the monster’s blood:
Then in the windings of a sandy bed
Composed Medusa’s execrable head.
But to prevent the roughness, leaves he threw,
And young green twigs, which soft in waters grew,
There soft, and full of sap; but here, when laid,
Touch’d by the head, that softness soon decay’d.
The wonted flexibility quite gone,
The tender scions harden’d into stone.
Fresh juicy twigs, surprised, the Nereids brought,
Fresh juicy twigs the same contagion caught.
The nymphs the petrifying seeds still keep,
And propagate the wonder through the deep.
The pliant sprays of coral yet declare
Their stiff’ning nature, when exposed to air.
Those sprays, which did like bending osiers move,
Snatch’d from their element obdurate prove,
And shrubs beneath the waves grow stones above.
The great immortals grateful Perseus praised,
And to three powers three turfy altars raised.
To Hermes this; and that he did assign
To Pallas; the mid honours, Jove, were thine:
He hastes for Pallas a white cow to cull,
A calf for Hermes, but for Jove a bull.
Then seized the prize of his victorious fight,
Andromeda, and claim’d the nuptial rite,
Andromeda alone he greatly sought,
The dowry kingdom was not worth his thought.
Pleased Hymen now his golden torch displays;
With rich oblations fragrant altars blaze,
Sweet wreaths of choicest flowers are hung on high,
And cloudless pleasure smiles in every eye;
The melting music melting thoughts inspires,
And warbling songsters aid the warbling lyres;
The palace opens wide in pompous state,
And, by his peers surrounded, Cepheus sate;
A feast was served, fit for a king to give,
And fit for godlike heroes to receive.
The banquet ended, the gay cheerful bowl
Moved round, and brighten’d, and enlarged each soul.
Then Perseus ask’d what customs there obtain’d,
And by what laws the people were restrain’d;
Which told, the teller a like freedom takes,
And to the warrior his petition makes,
To know what
