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XXXVIII.

Such was the powre that angrie Jove bestowd

On this faire Nymph: the legend thus is told.
To Dians care her life her Mother owd;
Faire Dian found her naked on the wold,
Some Peasants babe, exposed to deadlie cold,
And to a favourite Satyr gave to rear:
Then, when the Nymph was fifteen springtimes old,
Equipt her with the bow and Huntresse spear,
And of her Woodland Traine her made a welcome fere.

XXXIX.

But ill her mind received chast Phœbes lore,

Fain would she at the chace still lag behind:
One sultry noone, as Phœbe sped afore,
Beneath a leafy vine the nymph reclind,
And, Fan my breast, she cried, Oh Western Wind!
Soon at the wishd-for word Favonius came.
From that day forth the conscious Nymph declind
The near inspection of the Sovereign Dame;
Till mid the chace, one morne, her throes betrayd her shame.