Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- Thy grandson, Cadmus, was the first to cast
- thy dear felicity in sorrow's gloom.
- Oh, it was pitiful to witness him,
- his horns outbranching from his forehead, chased
- by dogs that panted for their master's blood!
- If thou shouldst well inquire it will be shown
- his sorrow was the crime of Fortune—not
- his guilt—for who maintains mistakes are crimes?
- Upon a mountain stained with slaughtered game,
- the young Hyantian stood. Already day,
- increasing to meridian, made decrease
- the flitting shadows, and the hot sun shone
- betwixt extremes in equal distance. Such
- the hour, when speaking to his fellow friends,
- the while they wandered by those lonely haunts,
- actaeon of Hyantis kindly thus;
- “Our nets and steel are stained with slaughtered game,
- the day has filled its complement of sport;
- now, when Aurora in her saffron car
- brings back the light of day, we may again
- repair to haunts of sport. Now Phoebus hangs
- in middle sky, cleaving the fields with heat.—
- enough of toil; take down the knotted nets.”—
- all did as he commanded; and they sought
- their needed rest.
- There is a valley called
- Gargaphia; sacred to Diana, dense
- with pine trees and the pointed cypress, where,
- deep in the woods that fringed the valley's edge,
- was hollowed in frail sandstone and the soft
- white pumice of the hills an arch, so true
- it seemed the art of man; for Nature's touch
- ingenious had so fairly wrought the stone,
- making the entrance of a grotto cool.
- Upon the right a limpid fountain ran,
- and babbled, as its lucid channel spread
- into a clear pool edged with tender grass.
- Here, when a-wearied with exciting sport,
- the Sylvan goddess loved to come and bathe
- her virgin beauty in the crystal pool.
- After Diana entered with her nymphs,
- she gave her javelin, quiver and her bow
- to one accustomed to the care of arms;
- she gave her mantle to another nymph
- who stood near by her as she took it off;
- two others loosed the sandals from her feet;
- but Crocale, the daughter of Ismenus,
- more skillful than her sisters, gathered up
- the goddess' scattered tresses in a knot;—
- her own were loosely wantoned on the breeze.
- Then in their ample urns dipt up the wave
- and poured it forth, the cloud-nymph Nephele,
- the nymph of crystal pools called Hyale,
- the rain-drop Rhanis, Psecas of the dews,
- and Phyale the guardian of their urns.
- And while they bathed Diana in their streams,
- Actaeon, wandering through the unknown woods,
- entered the precincts of that sacred grove;
- with steps uncertain wandered he as fate
- directed, for his sport must wait till morn.—
- soon as he entered where the clear springs welled
- or trickled from the grotto's walls, the nymphs,
- now ready for the bath, beheld the man,
- smote on their breasts, and made the woods resound,
- suddenly shrieking. Quickly gathered they
- to shield Diana with their naked forms, but she
- stood head and shoulders taller than her guards.—
- as clouds bright-tinted by the slanting sun,
- or purple-dyed Aurora, so appeared
- Diana's countenance when she was seen.
- Oh, how she wished her arrows were at hand!
- But only having water, this she took
- and dashed it on his manly countenance,
- and sprinkled with the avenging stream his hair,
- and said these words, presage of future woe;
- “Go tell it, if your tongue can tell the tale,
- your bold eyes saw me stripped of all my robes.”
- No more she threatened, but she fixed the horns
- of a great stag firm on his sprinkled brows;
- she lengthened out his neck; she made his ears
- sharp at the top; she changed his hands and feet;
- made long legs of his arms, and covered him
- with dappled hair—his courage turned to fear.
- The brave son of Autonoe took to flight,
- and marveled that he sped so swiftly on.—
- he saw his horns reflected in a stream
- and would have said, “Ah, wretched me!” but now
- he had no voice, and he could only groan:
- large tears ran trickling down his face, transformed
- in every feature.—Yet, as clear remained
- his understanding, and he wondered what
- he should attempt to do: should he return
- to his ancestral palace, or plunge deep
- in vast vacuities of forest wilds?
- Fear made him hesitate to trust the woods,
- and shame deterred him from his homeward way.
- While doubting thus his dogs espied him there:
- first Blackfoot and the sharp nosed Tracer raised
- the signal: Tracer of the Gnossian breed,
- and Blackfoot of the Spartan: swift as wind
- the others followed. Glutton, Quicksight, Surefoot,
- three dogs of Arcady; then valiant Killbuck,
- Tempest, fierce Hunter, and the rapid Wingfoot;
- sharp-scented Chaser, and Woodranger wounded
- so lately by a wild boar; savage Wildwood,
- the wolf-begot with Shepherdess the cow-dog;
- and ravenous Harpy followed by her twin whelps;
- and thin-girt Ladon chosen from Sicyonia;
- racer and Barker, brindled Spot and Tiger;
- sturdy old Stout and white haired Blanche and black Smut
- lusty big Lacon, trusty Storm and Quickfoot;
- active young Wolfet and her Cyprian brother
- black headed Snap, blazed with a patch of white hair
- from forehead to his muzzle; swarthy Blackcoat
- and shaggy Bristle, Towser and Wildtooth,
- his sire of Dicte and his dam of Lacon;
- and yelping Babbler: these and others, more
- than patience leads us to recount or name.
- All eager for their prey the pack surmount
- rocks, cliffs and crags, precipitous—where paths
- are steep, where roads are none. He flies by routes
- so oft pursued but now, alas, his flight
- is from his own!—He would have cried, “Behold
- your master!—It is I—Actaeon!” Words
- refused his will. The yelping pack pressed on.
- First Blackmane seized and tore his master's back,
- Savage the next, then Rover's teeth were clinched
- deep in his shoulder.—These, though tardy out,
- cut through a by-path and arriving first
- clung to their master till the pack came up.
- The whole pack fastened on their master's flesh
- till place was none for others. Groaning he
- made frightful sounds that not the human voice
- could utter nor the stag; and filled the hills
- with dismal moans; and as a suppliant fell
- down to the ground upon his trembling knees;
- and turned his stricken eyes on his own dogs,
- entreating them to spare him from their fangs.
- But his companions, witless of his plight,
- urged on the swift pack with their hunting cries.
- They sought Actaeon and they vainly called,
- “Actaeon! Hi! Actaeon!” just as though
- he was away from them. Each time they called
- he turned his head. And when they chided him,
- whose indolence denied the joys of sport,
- how much he wished an indolent desire
- had haply held him from his ravenous pack.
- Oh, how much;better 'tis to see the hunt,
- and the fierce dogs, than feel their savage deeds!
- They gathered round him, and they fixed their snouts
- deep in his flesh: tore him to pieces, he
- whose features only as a stag appeared.—
- 'Tis said Diana's fury raged with none
- abatement till the torn flesh ceased to live.