Thus disturb’d, I arose, and laughing, took her up; immediately, lest any thing shou’d hinder the offering, she ran for new fire to the neighbourhood, and had hardly got to the door, e’re I was set upon by three sacred geese, that daily, I believe, about that time were fed by the old woman; they made an hideous noise, and, surrounding me, one tears my coat, another my shoes, while their furious captain made nothing of doing so by my legs; till seeing my self in danger, I began to be in earnest, and snatching up one of the feet of our little table, made the valiant animal feel my arm’d hand; nor content with a slight blow or two, but reveng’d my self with its death.

    Such were the birds Alcides did subdue,
    That from his conquering arm t’ward Heaven flew: 
    Such sure the harpyes were which poyson strow’d,
    On cheated Phineus’s false deluding food. 
    Loud lamentations shake the trembling air,
    The powers above the wild confusion share,
    Horrours disturb the orders of the sky,
    And frighted stars beyond their courses fly.

By this time the other two had eat up the pieces of the bean that lay scatter’d on the floor, and having lost their leader, return’d to the temple.  When glad of the booty and my revenge, I heal’d the slight old woman’s anger, I design’d to make off; and taking up my cloaths, began my march; nor had I reacht the door, e’re I saw Enothea bringing in her hand an earthen pot fill’d with fire; upon which I retreated, and throwing down my cloaths, fixt my self in the entry, as if I were impatiently expecting her coming.

Enothea, entring, plac’d the fire, that with broken sticks she had got together, and having heapt more wood upon those, began to excuse her stay, that her friend wou’d not let her go before she had, against the laws of drinking, taken off three healths together.  When looking about her, “What,” said she, “have you been doing in my absence?  Where’s the bean?”

I, who thought I had behav’d my self very honourably, told her the whole fight; and to end her grief for the loss of her bean, presented the goose:  when I shew’d the goose, the old woman set up such an out-cry, that you wou’d have thought the geese were re-entring the place.

In confusion and amaz’d at so strange a humour, I askt the meaning of her passion? or why she pity’d the goose rather than me.

But wringing her hands, “you wicked wretch,” said she, “d’ye speak too?  D’ye know what you’ve done?  You’ve killed the gods delight, a goose the pleasure of all matrons:  And, lest you shou’d think your self innocent, if a magistrate shou’d hear of it, you’d be hang’d.  You have defil’d with blood my cell, that to this day had been inviolate.  You have done that, for which, if any’s so malicious, he may expel me my office.”