To this, the audacious youth:--"Thou know'st full well My name and business, god; nor need I tell. No man can Proteus cheat: but, Proteus, leave Thy fraudful arts, and do not thou deceive. Following the gods' command, I come to implore Thy help, my perished people to restore." The seer, who could not yet his wrath assuage, Rolled his green eyes, that sparkled with his rage, And gnashed his teeth, and cried,--"No vulgar god Pursues thy crimes, nor with a common rod. Thy great misdeeds have met a due reward; And Orpheus' dying prayers at length are heard.[24] For crimes, not his, the lover lost his life, And at thy hands requires his murdered wife: Nor (if the Fates assist not) canst thou 'scape The just revenge of that intended rape. To shun thy lawless lust, the dying bride, Unwary, took along the river's side, Nor at her heels perceived the deadly snake, That kept the bank, in covert of the brake. But all her fellow nymphs the mountains tear With loud laments, and break the yielding air: The realms of Mars remurmur all around, And echoes to the Athenian shores rebound. The unhappy husband, husband now no more, } Did on his tuneful harp his loss deplore, } And sought his mournful mind with music to restore. } On thee, dear wife, in deserts all alone, } He called, sighed, sung: his griefs with day begun, } Nor were they finished with the setting sun. } Even to the dark dominions of the night He took his way, through forests void of light, And dared amidst the trembling ghosts to sing, And stood before the inexorable king. The infernal troops like passing shadows glide, And, listening, crowd the sweet musician's side-- Not flocks of birds, when driven by storms or night, Stretch to the forest with so thick a flight-- Men, matrons, children, and the unmarried maid, } The mighty hero's more majestic shade,[25] } And youths, on funeral piles before their parents laid. } All these Cocytus bounds with squalid reeds, With muddy ditches, and with deadly weeds; And baleful Styx encompasses around, With nine slow circling streams, the unhappy ground. Even from the depths of hell the damned advance; The infernal mansions, nodding, seem to dance; The gaping three-mouthed dog forgets to snarl; The Furies hearken, and their snakes uncurl; Ixion seems no more his pain to feel, But leans attentive on his standing wheel. All dangers past, at length the lovely bride In safety goes, with her melodious guide, Longing the common light again to share, And draw the vital breath of upper air-- He first; and close behind him followed she; For such was Proserpine's severe decree-- When strong desires the impatient youth invade, By little caution and much love betrayed: A fault, which easy pardon might receive,