Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- Nestor had hardly told this marvellous tale
- of bitter strife betwixt the Lapithae
- and those half-human, vanquished Centaurs, when
- Tlepolemus, incensed because no word
- of praise was given to Hercules, replied
- in this way; “Old sir, it is very strange,
- you have neglected to say one good word
- in praise of Hercules. My father told
- me often, that he overcame in battle
- those cloud born centaurs.”
- Nestor, very loth,
- replied, “Why force me to recall old wrongs,
- to uncover sorrow buried by the years,
- that made me hate your father? It is true
- his deeds were wonderful beyond belief,
- heaven knows, and filled the earth with well earned praise
- which I should rather wish might be denied.
- Deiphobus, the wise Polydamas, and even
- great Hector get no praise from me.
- Your father, I recall once overthrew
- Messene's walls and with no cause destroyed
- Elis and Pylos and with fire and sword
- ruined my own loved home. I cannot name
- all whom he killed. But there were twelve of us,
- the sons of Neleus and all warrior youths,
- and all those twelve but me alone he killed.
- Ten of them met the common fate of war,
- but sadder was the death of Periclymenus.
- “Neptune, the founder of my family,
- had granted him a power to assume
- whatever shape he chose, and when he wished
- to lay that shape aside. When he, in vain,
- had been transformed to many other shapes
- he turned into the form of that bird, which
- is wont to carry in his crooked talons
- the forked lightnings, favorite bird of Jove.
- With wings and crooked bill and sharp-hooked talons,
- he assailed and tore the face of Hercules.
- But, when he soared away on eagle wings
- up to the clouds and hovered, poised in air,
- that hero aimed his too unerring bow
- and hit him where the new wing joined his side.
- The wound was not large, but his sinews cut
- failed to uphold him, and denied his wings
- their strength and motion. He fell down to earth;
- his weakened pinions could not catch the air.
- And the sharp arrow, which had lightly pierced
- the wing, was driven upward through the side
- into the left part of my brother's neck.
- “O noble leader of the Rhodian fleet,
- why should I sing the praise of Hercules?
- But for my brothers I take no revenge
- except withholding praise of his great deeds.
- With you, my friendship will remain secure.”
- When Nestor with his honied tongue had told
- these tales of old, they all took wine again
- and they arose and gave the night to sleep.