Yet may he live! for to the powers above, A virgin, led by no impulse of love, So just a suit may, for the guiltless, move. Whom would not Jason’s valour, youth, and blood, Invite? or, could these merits be withstood, At least his charming person must incline The hardest heart⁠—I’m sure ’tis so with mine! Yet, if I help him not, the flaming breath Of bulls, and earthborn foes, must be his death: Or, should he through these dangers force his way, At last he must be made the dragon’s prey. If no remorse for such distress I feel, I am a tigress, and my breast is steel. Why do I scruple then to see him slain, And with the tragic scene my eyes profane? My magic’s art employ, not to assuage The savages, but to inflame their rage? His earthborn foes to fiercer fury move, And accessary to his niurder prove? The gods forbid!⁠—but prayers are idle breath, When action only can prevent his death. Shall I betray my father, and the state, To intercept a rambling hero’s fate, Who may sail off next hour, and, saved from harms