THE
DEATH
OF
ARACHNE
,
AN
HEROI-COMI-TRAGIC-POEM
.
THE
shrinking
brooks
and
russet
meads
complain'd
That
Summer's
tyrant
,
fervid
Sirius
,
reign'd
;
Full
west
the
sun
from
heaven
descending
rode
,
And
six
the
shadow
on
the
dial
show'd
.
Philo
,
tho'
young
,
to
musing
much
inclin'd
,
A
shameless
sloven
,
in
his
gown
had
din'd
,
From
table
sneaking
with
a
sheepish
face
,
Before
the
circle
was
dismiss'd
with
grace
,
And
smoaking
now
,
his
desk
with
books
o'erspread
,
Thick
clouds
of
incense
roll
around
his
head
:
His
head
,
which
save
a
quarter's
growth
of
hair
,
His
woollen
cap
long
since
scratch'd
off
,
was
bare
:
His
beard
three
days
had
grown
,
of
golden
hue
,
Black
was
his
shirt
,
uncomely
to
the
view
;
Cross-legg'd
he
sat
,
and
his
ungartered
hose
Of
each
lean
limb
half
hide
,
and
half
expose
;
His
cheek
he
lean'd
upon
his
hand
;
below
His
nut-brown
slipper
hung
upon
his
toe
.
Now
with
abstracted
flight
he
climbs
apace
,
High
and
more
high
,
through
pure
unbounded
space
;
Now
mere
privation
fails
the
wings
of
thought
,
He
drops
down
headlong
through
the
vast
of
nought
;
A
friendly
vapour
Mathesis
supplies
,
Born
on
the
surging
smoak
he
joys
to
rise
;
Matter
thro'
modes
and
qualities
pursues
,
Now
caught
,
entranc'd
its
naked
essence
views
;
Now
wakes
;
the
vision
fading
from
his
sight
Leaves
doubts
behind
,
the
mists
of
mental
night
:
Existing
not
,
but
possible
alone
,
He
deems
all
substance
,
and
suspects
his
own
;
Like
wave
by
wave
impell'd
,
now
questions
roll
—
Does
soul
in
ought
subsist
,
or
all
in
soul
?
Is
space
,
extension
,
nothing
but
a
name
,
And
mere
idea
Nature's
mighty
frame
?
All
power
,
all
forms
,
to
intellect
confin'd
:
Place
,
agent
,
subject
,
instrument
combin'd
?
Is
spirit
diverse
,
yet
from
number
free
,
Conjoin'd
by
harmony
in
unity
?
—
Truth's
spotless
white
what
piercing
eye
descries
,
When
the
ray
broken
takes
Opinion's
dyes
!
—
In
vain
now
Philo
seeks
the
sacred
light
,
In
Chaos
plung'd
,
where
embryo
systems
fight
.
In
this
dark
hour
,
unnotic'd
,
Cloe
came
,
His
study-door
admits
the
shining
dame
;
With
Nature's
charms
she
join'd
the
charms
of
art
,
Wife
of
his
choice
,
and
mistress
of
his
heart
;
What
on
her
head
she
wore
,
erect
and
high
,
Unnam'd
above
,
is
call'd
on
earth
a
fly
;
In
wanton
ringlets
her
fair
tresses
fell
,
Her
breasts
beneath
transparent
muslin
swell
;
Studded
with
flaming
gems
a
buckle
bound
Th'
embroidered
zone
her
slender
waist
around
;
Thence
to
her
feet
a
vast
rotund
display'd
The
mingling
colours
of
the
rich
brocade
;
This
aiding
fancy
,
blending
shame
and
pride
,
Inflames
with
beauties
it
was
meant
to
hide
:
With
careless
ease
the
Nymph
first
snapp'd
her
fan
,
Roll'd
round
her
radiant
eyes
,
and
thus
began
;
"
How
canst
thou
,
Philo
,
here
delight
to
sit
,
"
Immers'd
in
learning
,
nastiness
,
and
wit
?
"
Clean
from
the
chest
,
where
various
odours
breathe
,
"
And
dying
roses
their
last
sweets
bequeath
,
"
A
shirt
for
thee
,
by
my
command
,
the
maid
"
Three
hours
ago
before
the
fire
display'd
;
"
The
barber
,
waiting
to
renew
thy
face
,
"
Holds
thy
wig
powder'd
in
the
paste-board
case
;
"
Thy
silken
breeches
,
and
thy
hose
of
thread
,
"
Coat
,
waistcoat
,
all
,
lie
ready
on
the
bed
.
"
Renounce
that
odious
pipe
,
this
filthy
cell
,
"
Where
silence
,
dust
,
and
pagan
authors
dwell
:
"
Come
!
shall
the
ladies
wait
in
vain
for
thee
?
"
Come
!
taste
with
us
the
charms
of
mirth
and
tea
,
"
As
Philo
heard
confus'd
the
silver
sound
,
His
soul
emerges
from
the
dark
profound
,
On
the
bright
vision
full
he
turn'd
his
eyes
;
Touch'd
,
as
he
gaz'd
,
with
pleasure
and
surprize
,
The
first
faint
dawnings
of
a
smile
appear'd
,
And
now
in
act
to
speak
,
he
strok'd
his
beard
,
When
from
a
shelf
just
o'er
the
fair
one's
head
,
Down
dropt
ARACHNE
by
the
viscous
thread
.
Back
starts
the
Nymph
,
with
terror
and
dismay
,
"
The
Spider
!
oh
!
"
—
was
all
that
she
could
say
.
At
this
the
Sage
resum'd
the
look
severe
,
"
Renounce
,
with
woman's
folly
,
woman's
fear
!
"
He
said
,
and
careful
to
the
shelf
convey'd
The
hapless
rival
of
the
blue-ey'd
maid
.
Th'
enormous
deed
astonish'd
Cloe-view'd
,
And
rage
the
crimson
on
her
cheek
renew'd
.
"
Must
then
,
said
she
,
such
hideous
vermin
crawl
"
Indulg'd
,
protected
,
o'er
the
cobwebb'd
wall
?
"
Destroy
her
quickly
—
here
her
life
I
claim
,
"
If
not
for
love
or
decency
,
for
shame
.
"
"
Shame
be
to
guilt
,
replies
the
man
of
thought
,
"
To
slaves
of
custom
,
ne'er
by
reason
taught
,
"
Who
spare
no
life
that
touches
not
their
own
,
"
By
fear
their
cruelty
restrain'd
alone
.
"
No
blameless
insect
lives
its
destin'd
hour
,
"
Caught
in
the
murdering
vortex
of
their
power
.
"
For
me
,
the
virtues
of
the
mind
I
learn
"
From
sage
ARACHNE
,
for
whose
life
you
burn
;
"
From
her
,
when
busy
all
the
summer's
day
"
She
weaves
the
curious
woof
that
snares
her
prey
,
"
I
learn
fair
industry
and
art
to
prize
,
"
Admiring
Nature
providently
wise
,
"
Who
,
tho'
her
bounty
unexhausted
flows
,
"
Not
daily
bread
on
idleness
bestows
.
"
ARACHNE
,
still
superior
to
despair
,
"
Restores
with
art
what
accidents
impair
,
"
The
thousandth
time
the
broken
thread
renews
,
"
And
one
great
end
with
fortitude
pursues
;
"
To
me
her
toil
is
ne'er
renew'd
in
vain
,
"
Taught
what
the
wise
by
perseverance
gain
,
"
Warm'd
by
example
to
the
glorious
strife
,
"
And
taught
to
conquer
in
the
fight
of
life
.
"
When
now
with
rest
amidst
her
labours
crown'd
,
"
She
watchful
,
patient
,
eyes
the
circle
round
,
"
I
learn
,
when
toil
has
well
deserv'd
success
,
"
Hope's
placid
,
calm
,
expectance
to
possess
,
"
With
care
to
watch
,
with
patience
still
to
wait
"
The
golden
moment
,
tho'
delay'd
by
Fate
.
"
Impatient
Cloe
thus
again
replied
;
"
How
soon
is
error
thro'
each
veil
descried
!
"
Still
boasting
Reason's
power
,
how
weak
are
we
!
"
How
blind
,
alas
!
to
all
we
would
not
see
!
"
Else
how
could
Philo
,
in
a
Spider's
cause
,
"
Talk
thus
of
mercy
with
deserv'd
applause
?
"
Or
call
aught
virtuous
industry
and
skill
,
"
Exerted
only
to
surprize
and
kill
?
"
The
blameless
insect
,
whom
no
murder
feeds
,
"
For
her
,
the
victim
of
her
cunning
,
bleeds
;
"
Cunning
!
which
when
to
wisdom
we
compare
,
"
Is
but
to
her
,
to
men
what
monkeys
are
.
"
"
Hold
!
Philo
cries
,
and
know
,
the
same
decree
"
Gave
her
the
fly
,
which
gives
the
lamb
to
thee
;
"
Or
why
those
wings
adapted
to
the
snare
,
"
Why
interceptive
hangs
the
net
in
air
?
"
As
plain
in
these
the
precept
,
"
kill
and
eat
,
"
"
As
in
thy
skill
to
carve
the
living
treat
.
"
To
this
,
she
cries
,
"
Persuade
me
,
if
you
can
,
"
Man's
lord
of
all
,
and
all
was
made
for
man
.
"
"
Vain
thought
!
the
child
of
ignorance
and
pride
!
"
"
Disdainful
smiling
,
quickly
he
replied
;
"
To
man
,
vain
reptile
!
tell
me
of
what
use
"
Are
all
that
Afric's
peopled
wastes
produce
?
"
The
nameless
monsters
of
the
swarming
seas
,
"
The
pigmy
nations
wafted
on
the
breeze
?
"
The
happy
myriads
,
by
his
eyes
unseen
,
"
That
bask
in
flowers
,
and
quicken
all
the
green
?
"
Why
live
these
numbers
blest
in
Nature's
state
?
"
Why
lives
this
spider
object
of
thy
hate
?
"
Why
man
?
but
life
in
common
to
possess
,
"
Wide
to
diffuse
the
stream
of
happiness
;
"
Blest
stream
!
the
o'erflowing
of
the
parent
mind
,
"
Great
without
pride
,
and
without
weakness
kind
.
"
With
downcast
eyes
,
and
sighs
,
and
modest
air
,
Thus
in
soft
sounds
replied
the
wily
fair
:
"
This
fatal
subtilty
thy
books
impart
"
To
baffle
truth
,
when
unsustain'd
by
art
;
"
For
this
,
when
Cloe
goes
at
twelve
to
bed
,
"
Till
three
you
sit
in
converse
with
the
dead
:
"
No
wonder
then
,
in
vain
my
skill's
employ'd
"
To
prove
it
best
that
vermin
be
destroy'd
—
"
But
tho'
you
proudly
triumph
o'er
my
sex
,
"
Joy
to
consute
,
and
reason
but
to
vex
,
"
Yet
,
if
you
lov'd
me
,
to
oblige
your
wife
,
"
What
could
you
less
!
you'd
take
a
spider's
life
.
"
Once
to
prevent
my
wishes
Philo
flew
,
"
But
Time
that
alters
all
,
has
alter'd
you
.
"
Yet
still
unchang'd
poor
Cloe's
love
remains
;
"
These
tears
my
witness
,
which
your
pride
disdains
;
"
These
tears
,
at
once
my
witness
and
relief
.
"
Here
paus'd
the
fair
,
all
eloquent
in
grief
.
He
,
who
had
often
,
and
alone
,
o'erturn'd
Witlings
,
and
sophists
,
when
his
fury
burn'd
,
Now
yields
to
love
the
fortress
of
his
soul
:
His
eyes
with
vengeance
on
ARACHNE
roll
:
"
Curs'd
wretch
,
thou
poisonous
quintessence
of
ill
,
"
Those
precious
drops
,
unpunish'd
,
shalt
thou
spill
?
"
He
said
,
and
stooping
,
from
his
foot
he
drew
,
Black
as
his
purpose
,
what
was
once
a
shoe
;
Now
,
high
in
air
the
fatal
heel
ascends
,
Reason's
last
effort
now
the
stroke
suspends
;
In
doubt
he
stood
—
when
,
breath'd
from
Cloe's
breast
,
A
struggling
sigh
her
inward
grief
exprest
.
Fir'd
by
the
sound
,
"
Die
,
sorceress
,
die
,
"
he
cried
,
And
to
his
arm
his
utmost
strength
applied
:
Crush'd
falls
the
foe
,
one
complicated
wound
,
And
the
smote
shelf
returns
a
jarring
sound
.
On
Ida's
top
thus
Venus
erst
prevail'd
,
When
all
the
sapience
of
Minerva
fail'd
:
Thus
to
like
arts
a
prey
,
as
poets
tell
,
By
Juno
lov'd
in
vain
,
great
Dido
fell
.
And
thus
for
ever
Beauty
shall
controul
The
saint's
,
the
sage's
,
and
the
hero's
soul
.
But
Jove
with
hate
beheld
th'
atrocious
deed
,
And
Vengeance
follows
with
tremendous
speed
;
In
Philo's
mind
she
quench'd
the
ray
that
fir'd
With
love
of
science
,
and
with
verse
inspir'd
,
Expung'd
at
once
the
philosophic
theme
,
All
sages
think
and
all
that
poets
dream
;
Yields
him
thus
chang'd
a
vassal
to
the
fair
;
And
forth
she
leads
him
with
a
victor's
air
:
Drest
to
her
wish
,
he
mixes
with
the
gay
,
As
much
a
trifle
,
and
as
vain
as
they
;
To
fix
their
power
,
and
rivet
fast
the
chain
,
They
lead
where
Pleasure
spreads
her
soft
domain
;
Where
,
drown'd
in
music
Reason's
hoarser
call
,
Love
smiles
triumphant
in
thy
groves
,
Vaux-hall
.