Metamorphoses

Ovid

Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.

Sibylla with such words beguild their way
from Stygian realms up to the Euboean town.
Trojan Aeneas, after he had made
due sacrifice in Cumae, touched the shore
that had not yet been given his nurse's name.
There Macareus of Neritus had come,
companion of long tried Ulysses, there
he rested, weary of his lengthened toils.
He recognized one left in Aetna's cave,
greek Achaemenides, and, all amazed
to find him yet alive, he said to him,
“What chance, or what god, Achaemenides,
preserves you? Why is this barbarian ship
conveying you a Greek? What land is sought?”
No longer ragged in the clothes he wore
and his own master, wearing clothes not tacked
with sharp thorns, Achaemenides replied,
“Again may I see Polyphemus' jaws
out-streaming with their slaughtered human blood;
if my own home and Ithaca give more
delight to me than this barbarian bark,
or if I venerate Aeneas less
than my own father. If I should give my all,
it never could express my gratitude,
that I can speak and breath, and see the heavens
illuminated by the gleaming sun—
how can I be ungrateful and forget all this?
Because of him these limbs of mine were spared
the Cyclops' jaws; and, though I were even now
to leave the light of life, I should at worst
be buried in a tomb—not in his maw.
“What were my feelings when (unless indeed
my terror had deprived me of all sense) left there,
I saw you making for the open sea?
I wished to shout aloud, but was afraid
it would betray me to the enemy.
The shoutings of Ulysses nearly caused
destruction of your ship and there I saw
the Cyclops, when he tore a crag away
and hurled the huge rock in the whirling waves;
I saw him also throw tremendous stones
with his gigantic arms. They flew afar,
as if impelled by catapults of war,
I was struck dumb with terror lest
the waves or stones might overwhelm the ship,
forgetting that I still was on the shore!
“But when your flight had saved you from that death
of cruelty, the Cyclops, roaring rage,
paced all about Mount Aetna, groping through
its forests with his outstretched arms. Deprived
of sight, he stumbled there against the rocks,
until he reached the sea; and stretching out
his gore stained arms into its waters there,
he cursed all of the Grecian race, and said,
‘Oh! that some accident would carry back
Ulysses to me, or but one of his
companions; against whom my rage
might vent itself, whose joints my hand might tear
whose blood might drench my throat, whose living limbs
might quiver in my teeth. How trifling then,
how insignificant would be the loss,
of my sight which he took from me!’
“All this
and more he said. A ghastly horror took
possession of me when I saw his face
and every feature streaming yet with blood,
his ruthless hands, and the vile open space
where his one eye had been, and his coarse limbs,
and his beard matted through with human blood.
“It seemed as if Death were before my eyes,
yet that was but the least part of my woe.
I seemed upon the point of being caught,
my flesh about to be the food of his.
Before my mind was fixed the time I saw
two bodies of my loved companions
dashed three or four times hard against the ground,
when he above them, like a lion, crouched,
devouring quickly in his hideous jaws,
their entrails and their flesh and their crushed bones,
white marrowed, and their mangled quivering limbs.
A trembling fear seized on me as I stood
pallid and without power to move from there,
while I recalled him chewing greedily,
and belching out his bloody banquet from
his huge mouth—vomiting crushed pieces mixed
with phlegmy wine—and I feared such a doom
in readiness, awaited wretched me.
“Most carefully concealed for many days,
trembling at every sound and fearing death,
although desiring death; I fed myself
on grass and acorns, mixed with leaves; alone
and destitute, despondent unto death,
awaiting my destruction I lost hope.
In that condition a long while, at last
I saw a ship not far off, and by signs
prayed for deliverance, as I ran in haste,
down to the shore. My prayers prevailed on them.
A Trojan ship took in and saved a Greek!
“And now, O dearest to me of all men,
tell me of your adventures, of your chief
and comrades, when you sailed out on the sea.”

Then Macareus told him of Aeolus,
the son of Hippotas, whose kingdom is
the Tuscan sea, whose prison holds the winds,
and how Ulysses had received the winds
tied in a bull's hide bag, an awesome gift,
how nine days with a favoring breeze they sailed
and saw afar their longed for native land.
How, as the tenth day dawned, the crew was moved
by envy and a lust for gold, which they
imagined hidden in that leathern bag
and so untied the thong which held the winds.
These, rushing out, had driven the vessel back
over the waves which they had safely passed,
back to the harbor of King Aeolus.
“From there,” he said, “we sailed until we reached
the ancient city of Lamus, Laestrygon.—
Antiphates was reigning in that land,
and I was sent with two men of our troop,
ambassadors to see him. Two of us
escaped with difficulty, but the third
stained the accursed Lestrygonian's jaws
with his devoted blood. Antiphates
pursued us, calling out his murderous horde.
They came and, hurling stones and heavy beams,
they overwhelmed and sank both ships and men.
One ship escaped, on which Ulysses sailed.
“Grieving, lamenting for companions lost,
we finally arrived at that land which
you may discern far off, and, trust my word,
far off it should be seen—I saw it near!
And oh most righteous Trojan, Venus' son,
Aeneas, whom I call no more a foe,
I warn you now: avoid the shores of Circe.
“We moored our ship beside that country too;
but, mindful of the dangers we had run
with Laestrygons and cruel Polyphemus,
refused to go ashore. Ulysses chose
some men by lot and told them to seek out
a roof which he had seen among the trees.
The lot took me, then staunch Polytes next,
Eurylochus, Elpenor fond of wine,
and eighteen more and brought us to the walls
of Circe's dwelling.
“As we drew near and stood
before the door, a thousand wolves rushed out
from woods near by, and with the wolves there ran
she bears and lionesses, dread to see.
And yet we had no cause to fear, for none
would harm us with the smallest scratch.
Why, they in friendship even wagged their tails
and fawned upon us, while we stood in doubt.
“Then handmaids took us in and led us on
through marble halls to the presence of their queen.
She, in a beautiful recess, sat on her throne,
clad richly in a shining purple robe,
and over it she wore a golden veil.
Nereids and nymphs, who never carded fleece
with motion of their fingers, nor drew out
a ductile thread, were setting potent herbs
in proper order and arranging them
in baskets—a confusing wealth of flowers
were scattered among leaves of every hue:
and she prescribed the tasks they all performed.
“She knew the natural use of every leaf
and combinations of their virtues, when
mixed properly; and, giving them her close
attention, she examined every herb
as it was weighed. When she observed us there,
and had received our greetings and returned them,
she smiled, as if we should be well received.
At once she had her maidens bring a drink
of parched barley, of honey and strong wine,
and curds of milk. And in the nectarous draught
she added secretly her baleful drugs.
“We took the cups presented to us by
her sacred right hand; and, as soon as we,
so thirsty, quaffed them with our parching mouths,
that ruthless goddess with her outstretched wand
touched lightly the topmost hair upon our heads.
(Although I am ashamed, I tell you this)
stiff bristles quickly grew out over me,
and I could speak no more. Instead of words
I uttered hoarse murmurs and towards the ground
began to bend and gaze with all my face.
I felt my mouth take on a hardened skin
with a long crooked snout, and my neck swell
with muscles. With the very member which
a moment earlier had received the cup
I now made tracks in sand of the palace court.
Then with my friends, who suffered a like change
(charms have such power!) I was prisoned in a stye.
“We saw Eurylochus alone avoid
our swinish form, for he refused the cup.
If he had drained it, I should still remain
one of a bristly herd. Nor would his news
have made Ulysses sure of our disaster
and brought a swift avenger of our fate.
“Peace bearing Hermes gave him a white flower
from a black root, called Moly by the gods.
With this protection and the god's advice
he entered Circe's hall and, as she gave
the treacherous cup and with her magic wand
essayed to touch his hair, he drove her back
and terrified her with his quick drawn sword.
She gave her promise, and, right hands exchanged,
he was received unharmed into her couch,
where he required the bodies of his friends
awarded him, as his prized marriage gift.
“We then were sprinkled with more favored juice
of harmless plants, and smitten on the head
with the magic wand reversed. And new charms were
repeated, all conversely to the charms
which had degraded us. Then, as she sings,
more and yet more we raise ourselves erect,
the bristles fall off and the fissures leave
our cloven feet, our shoulders overcome
their lost shape and our arms become attached,
as they had been before. With tears of joy
we all embrace him, also weeping tears;
and we cling fondly to our chieftain's neck;—
not one of us could say a single word
till thus we had attested gratitude.”
“The full space of a year detained us there,
and I, remaining that long stretch of time,
saw many things and heard as much besides:
and this among the many other things,
was told me secretly by one of the four
handmaidens of those rites. While Circe passed
her time from all apart except my chief,
she brought me to a white marble shape, a youth
who bore a woodpecker upon his head.
It stood erected in a hallowed place,
adorned with many wreaths. When I had asked
the statue's name and why he stood revered
in that most sacred temple, and what caused
that bird he carried on his head; she said:—
‘Listen, Macareus, and learn from this tale too
the power of Circe, and weigh the knowledge well!’

“Picus, offspring of Saturn, was the king
of the Ausonian land, one very fond
of horses raised for war. The young man's form
was just what you now see, and had you known
him as he lived, you would not change a line.
His nature was as noble as his shape.
He could not yet have seen the steeds contend
four times in races held with each fifth year
at Grecian Elis. But his good looks had charmed
the dryads born on Latin hills, Naiads
would pine for him—both goddesses of spring
and goddesses of fountains, pined for him,
and nymphs that live in streaming Albula,
Numicus, Anio's course, brief flowing Almo,
and rapid Nar and Farfarus, so cool
in its delightful shades; all these and those
which haunt the forest lake of Scythian
Diana and the other nearby lakes.
“ ‘But, heedless of all these, he loved a nymph
whom on the hill, called Palatine, 'tis said,
Venilia bore to Janus double faced.
When she had reached the age of marriage, she
was given to Picus Laurentine, preferred
by her above all others—wonderful
indeed her beauty, but more wonderful
her skill in singing, from which art they called
her Canens. The fascination of her voice
would move the woods and rocks and tame wild beasts,
and stay long rivers, and it even detained
the wandering bird. Once, while she sang a lay
with high, clear voice, Picus on his keen horse
rode in Laurentian fields to hunt the boar,
two spears in his left hand, his purple cloak
fastened with gold. The daughter of the Sun
wandered in woods near by to find new herbs
growing on fertile hills, for she had left
Circaean fields called so from her own name.
“ ‘From a concealing thicket she observed
the youth with wonder. All the gathered herbs
dropped from her hands, forgotten, to the ground
and a hot fever-flame seemed to pervade
her marrow. When she could collect her thought
she wanted to confess her great desire,
but the swift horse and his surrounding guards
prevented her approach. “Still you shall not
escape me,” she declared, “although you may
be borne on winds, if I but know myself,
and if some potency in herbs remains,
and if my art of charms does not deceive.”
“ ‘Such were her;thoughts, and then she formed
an image of a bodiless wild swine
and let it cross the trail before the king
and rush into a woodland dense with trees,
which fallen trunks made pathless for his horse.
Picus at once, unconscious of all harm,
followed the phantom-prey and, hastily
quitting the reeking back of his good steed,
he wandered in pursuit of a vain hope,
on foot through that deep wood. She seized the chance
and by her incantation called strange gods
with a strange charm, which had the power to hide
the white moon's features and draw thirsty clouds
about her father's head. The changing sky
then lowered more black at each repeated tone
of incantation, and the ground exhaled
its vapours, while his people wandered there
along the darkened paths until no guard
was near to aid the imperiled king.
“ ‘Having now gained an opportunity
and place, she said, “ O, youth most beautiful!
By those fine eyes, which captivated mine,
and by that graceful person, which brings me,
even me, a goddess, suppliant to you,
have pity on my passion; let the Sun,
who looks on all things, be your father-in-law;
do not despise Circe, the Titaness.”
“But fiercely he repelled her and her prayer,
“Whoever you may be, you are not mine,”
he said. “Another lady has my heart.
I pray that for a lengthening space of time
she may so hold me. I will not pollute
conjugal ties with the unhallowed loves
of any stranger, while the Fates preserve
to me the child of Janus, my dear Canens.”
“‘Titan's daughter, when many pleas had failed,
said angrily, “You shall not leave me with
impunity, and you shall not return
to Canens; and by your experience
you shall now learn what can be done by her
so slighted—what a woman deep in love
can do— and Circe is that slighted love.”
“ ‘Then twice she turned herself to face the west
and twice to face the East; and three times then
she touched the young man with her wand,
and sang three incantations. Picus fled,
but, marvelling at his unaccustomed speed,
he saw new wings, that spread on either side
and bore him onward. Angry at the thought
of transformation—all so suddenly
added a strange bird to the Latian woods,
he struck the wild oaks with his hard new beak,
and in his rage inflicted many wounds
on the long waving branches his wings took
the purple of his robe. The piece of gold
which he had used so nicely in his robe
was changed to golden feathers, and his neck
was rich as yellow gold. Nothing remained
of Picus as he was except the name.
“ ‘While all this happened his attendants called
on Picus often but in vain throughout
surrounding fields, and finding not a trace
of their young king, at length by chance they met
with Circe, who had cleared the darkened air
and let the clouds disperse before the wind
and clear rays of the sun. Then with good cause
they blamed her, they demanded the return
of their lost king, and with their hunting spears
they threatened her. She, sprinkling baleful drugs
and poison juices over them, invoked
the aid of Night and all the gods of Night
from Erebus and Chaos, and desired
the aid of Hecat with long, wailing cries.
“ ‘Most wonderful to tell, the forests leaped
from fixed localities and the torn soil
uttered deep groans, the trees surrounding changed
from life-green to sick pallor, and the grass
was moistened with besprinkling drops of blood;
the stones sent forth harsh longings, unknown dogs
barked loudly, and the ground became a mass
of filthy snakes, and unsubstantial hosts
of the departed flitted without sound.
The men all quaked appalled. With magic rod
she touched their faces, pale and all amazed,
and at her touch the youths took on strange forms
of wild animals. None kept his proper shape.
“ ‘The setting sun is resting low upon
the far Tartessian shores, and now in vain
her husband is expected by the eyes
of longing Canens. Her slaves and people run
about through all the forest, holding lights
to meet him. Nor is it enough for that
dear nymph to weep and frenzied tear her hair
and beat her breast—she did all that and more.
Distracted she rushed forth and wandered through
the Latin fields. Six nights, six brightening dawns
found her quite unrefreshed with food or sleep
wandering at random over hill and dale.
The Tiber saw her last, with grief and toil
wearied and lying on his widespread bank.
In tears she poured out words with a faint voice,
lamenting her sad woe, as when the swan
about to die sings a funereal dirge.
Melting with grief at last she pined away;
her flesh, her bones, her marrow liquified
and vanished by degrees as formless air
and yet the story lingers near that place,
fitly named Canens by old-time Camenae!.’
“Such things I heard and saw through a long year.
Sluggish, inactive through our idleness,
we were all ordered to embark again
out on the deep, again to set our sails.
The Titaness explained the doubtful paths,
the great extent and peril, of wild seas.
I was alarmed, I will confess to you;
so, having reached these shores, I have remained.”

Macareus finished. And Aeneas' nurse,
now buried in a marble urn, had this
brief, strange inscription on her tomb:—
“My foster-child of proven piety,
burned me Caieta here: although
I was at first preserved from Argive fire,
I later burned with fire which was my due.”
The cable loosened from the grassy bank,
they steered a course which kept them well away
from ill famed Circe's wiles and from her home
and sought the groves where Tiber dark with shade,
breaks with his yellow sands into the sea.
Aeneas then fell heir to the home and won
the daughter of Latinus, Faunus' son,
not without war. A people very fierce
made war, and Turnus, their young chief,
indignant fought to hold a promised bride.
With Latium all Etruria was embroiled,
a victory hard to win was sought through war.
By foreign aid each side got further strength:
the camp of Rutuli abounds in men,
and many throng the opposing camp of Troy.
Aeneas did not find Evander's home
in vain. But Venulus with no success
came to the realm of exiled Diomed.
That hero had marked out his mighty walls
with favor of Iapygian Daunus and
held fields that came to him as marriage dower.
When Venulus, by Turnus' orders, made
request for aid, the Aetolian hero said
that he was poor in men: he did not wish
to risk in battle himself nor any troops
belonging to his father-in-law and had
no troops of his that he could arm for battle.
“Lest you should think I feign,” he then went on
“Although my grief must be renewed because
of bitter recollections of the past,
I will endure recital now to you:—
“After the lofty Ilion was burnt
and Pergama had fed the Grecian flames,
and Ajax, the Narycian hero, had
brought from a virgin, for a virgin wronged,
the punishment which he alone deserved
on our whole expedition, we were then
dispersed and driven by violent winds
over the hostile seas; and we, the Greeks,
had to endure in darkness, lightning, rain,
the wrath both of the heavens and of the sea,
and Caphareus, the climax of our woe.
Not to detain you by relating such
unhappy things in order, Greece might then
have seemed to merit even Priam's tears.
“Although well armed Minerva's care preserved
me then and brought me safe through rocks and waves,
from my native Argos I was driven again,
for outraged Venus took her full revenge
remembering still that wound of long ago;
and I endured such hardships on the deep,
and hazards amid armies on the shore,
that often I called those happy whom the storm—
an ill that came on all, or Cephareus had drowned.
I even wished I had been one of them.
“My best companions having now endured
utmost extremities in wars and seas,
lost courage and demanded a swift end
of our long wandering. Acmon, by nature hot,
and much embittered by misfortune, said,
‘What now remains for you, my friends,
that patience can endure? What can be done
by Venus (if she wants to) more than she
already has done? While we have a dread
of greater evils, reason will be found
for patience; but, when fortune brings her worst,
we scorn and trample fear beneath our feet.
Upon the height of woe, why should we care?
Let Venus listen, let her hate Diomed
more than all others—as indeed she does,
we all despise her hate. At a great price
we have bought and won the right to such contempt!’
“With language of this kind Pleuronian Acmon.
Provoking Venus further than before,
revived her former anger. His fierce words
were then approved of by a few, while we
the greater number of his real friends,
rebuked the words of Acmon: and while he
prepared to answer us, his voice, and even
the passage of his voice, were both at once
diminished, his hair changed to feathers, while
his neck took a new form. His breast and back
covered themselves with down, and both his arms
grew longer feathers, and his elbows curved
into light wings, much of each foot was changed
to long toes, and his mouth grew still and hard
with pointed horn.
“Amazed at his swift change
were Lycus, Abas, Nycteus and Rhexenor.
And, while they stared, they took his feathered shape.
The larger portion of my company
flew from their boat, resounding all around
our oars with flapping of new-fashioned wings.
If you should ask the form of these strange birds
they were like snowy swans, though not the same.
“Now as Iapygian Daunus' son-in-law
I scarcely hold this town and arid fields
with my small remnant of trustworthy men.”
So Diomed made answer. Venulus
soon after left the Calydonian realms,
Peucetian bays, and the Messapian fields.
Among those fields he saw a darkened cave
in woods and waving reeds. The halfgoat Pan
now lives there, but in older time the nymphs
possessed it. An Apulian shepherd scared
them from that spot. At first he terrified
them with a sudden fear, but soon in scorn,
as they considered what the intruder was,
they danced before him, moving feet to time.
The shepherd clown abused them, capering,
grotesquely imitating graceful steps,
and railed at them with coarse and foolish words.
He was not silent till a tree's new bark
had closed his mouth for now he is a tree.
And the wild olive's fruit took bitterness
from him. It has the tartness of his tongue.