Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- The fortune of their grandson, Bacchus, gave
- great comfort to them—as a god adored
- in conquered India; by Achaia praised
- in stately temples. — But Acrisius
- the son of Abas, of the Cadmean race,
- remained to banish Bacchus from the walls
- of Argos, and to lift up hostile arms
- against that deity, who he denied
- was born to Jove. He would not even grant
- that Perseus from the loins of Jupiter
- was got of Danae in the showering gold.
- So mighty is the hidden power of truth,
- Acrisius soon lamented that affront
- to Bacchus, and that ever he refused
- to own his grandson; for the one achieved
- high heaven, and the other, (as he bore
- the viperous monster-head) on sounding wings
- hovered a conqueror in the fluent air,
- over sands, Libyan, where the Gorgon-head
- dropped clots of gore, that, quickening on the ground,
- became unnumbered serpents; fitting cause
- to curse with vipers that infested land.
- Thence wafted by the never-constant winds
- through boundless latitudes, now here now there,
- as flits a vapour-cloud in dizzy flight,
- down-looking from the lofty skies on earth,
- removed far, so compassed he the world.
- Three times did he behold the frozen Bears,
- times thrice his gaze was on the Crab's bent arms.
- Now shifting to the west, now to the east,
- how often changed his course? Time came, when day
- declining, he began to fear the night,
- by which he stopped his flight far in the west—
- the realm of Atlas—where he sought repose
- till Lucifer might call Aurora's fires;
- Aurora chariot of the Day.
- There dwelt
- huge Atlas, vaster than the race of man:
- son of Iapetus, his lordly sway
- extended over those extreme domains,
- and over oceans that command their waves
- to take the panting coursers of the Sun,
- and bathe the wearied Chariot of the Day.
- For him a thousand flocks, a thousand herds
- overwandered pasture fields; and neighbour tribes
- might none disturb that land. Aglint with gold
- bright leaves adorn the trees,—boughs golden-wrought
- bear apples of pure gold. And Perseus spoke
- to Atlas, “O my friend, if thou art moved
- to hear the story of a noble race,
- the author of my life is Jupiter;
- if valiant deeds perhaps are thy delight
- mine may deserve thy praise.—Behold of thee
- kind treatment I implore—a place of rest.”
- But Atlas, mindful of an oracle
- since by Themis, the Parnassian, told,
- recalled these words, “O Atlas! mark the day
- a son of Jupiter shall come to spoil;
- for when thy trees been stripped of golden fruit,
- the glory shall be his.”
- Fearful of this,
- Atlas had built solid walls around
- his orchard, and secured a dragon, huge,
- that kept perpetual guard, and thence expelled
- all strangers from his land. Wherefore he said,
- “Begone! The glory of your deeds is all
- pretense; even Jupiter, will fail your need.”
- With that he added force and strove to drive
- the hesitating Alien from his doors;
- who pled reprieve or threatened with bold words.
- Although he dared not rival Atlas' might,
- Perseus made this reply; “For that my love
- you hold in light esteem, let this be yours.”
- He said no more, but turning his own face,
- he showed upon his left Medusa's head,
- abhorrent features.—Atlas, huge and vast,
- becomes a mountain—His great beard and hair
- are forests, and his shoulders and his hands
- mountainous ridges, and his head the top
- of a high peak;—his bones are changed to rocks.
- Augmented on all sides, enormous height
- attains his growth; for so ordained it, ye,
- O mighty Gods! who now the heavens' expanse
- unnumbered stars, on him command to rest.
- In their eternal prison, Aeous,
- grandson of Hippotas, had shut the winds;
- and Lucifer, reminder of our toil,
- in splendour rose upon the lofty sky:
- and Perseus bound his wings upon his feet,
- on each foot bound he them; his sword he girt
- and sped wing-footed through the liquid air.
- Innumerous kingdoms far behind were left,
- till peoples Ethiopic and the lands
- of Cepheus were beneath his lofty view.
- There Ammon, the Unjust, had made decree
- Andromeda, the Innocent, should grieve
- her mother's tongue. They bound her fettered arms
- fast to the rock. When Perseus her beheld
- as marble he would deem her, but the breeze
- moved in her hair, and from her streaming eyes
- the warm tears fell. Her beauty so amazed
- his heart, unconscious captive of her charms,
- that almost his swift wings forgot to wave.—
- Alighted on the ground, he thus began;
- “O fairest! whom these chains become not so,
- but worthy are for links that lovers bind,
- make known to me your country's name and your's
- and wherefore bound in chains.” A moment then,
- as overcome with shame, she made no sound:
- were not she fettered she would surely hide
- her blushing head; but what she could perform
- that did she do—she filled her eyes with tears.
- So pleaded he that lest refusal seem
- implied confession of a crime, she told
- her name, her country's name, and how her charms
- had been her mother's pride. But as she spoke
- the mighty ocean roared. Over the waves
- a monster fast approached, its head held high,
- abreast the wide expanse.—The virgin shrieked;—
- no aid her wretched father gave, nor aid
- her still more wretched mother; but they wept
- and mingled lamentations with their tears—
- clinging distracted to her fettered form.
- And thus the stranger spoke to them, “Time waits
- for tears, but flies the moment of our need:
- were I, who am the son of Regal Jove
- and her whom he embraced in showers of gold,
- leaving her pregnant in her brazen cell, —
- I, Perseus, who destroyed the Gorgon, wreathed
- with snake-hair, I, who dared on waving wings
- to cleave etherial air—were I to ask
- the maid in marriage, I should be preferred
- above all others as your son-in-law.
- Not satisfied with deeds achieved, I strive
- to add such merit as the Gods permit;
- now, therefore, should my velour save her life,
- be it conditioned that I win her love.”
- To this her parents gave a glad assent,
- for who could hesitate? And they entreat,
- and promise him the kingdom as a dower.
- As a great ship with steady prow speeds on;
- forced forwards by the sweating arms of youth
- it plows the deep; so, breasting the great waves,
- the monster moved, until to reach the rock
- no further space remained than might the whirl
- of Balearic string encompass, through
- the middle skies, with plummet-mold of lead.
- That instant, spurning with his feet the ground,
- the youth rose upwards to a cloudy height;
- and when the shadow of the hero marked
- the surface of the sea, the monster sought
- vainly to vent his fury on the shade.
- As the swift bird of Jove, when he beholds
- a basking serpent in an open field,
- exposing to the sun its mottled back,
- and seizes on its tail; lest it shall turn
- to strike with venomed fang, he fixes fast
- his grasping talons in the scaly neck;
- so did the winged youth, in rapid flight
- through yielding elements, press down
- on the great monster's back, and thrust his sword,
- sheer to the hilt, in its right shoulder—loud
- its frightful torture sounded over the waves.—
- So fought the hero-son of Inachus.
- Wild with the grievous wound, the monster rears
- high in the air, or plunges in the waves;—
- or wheels around as turns the frightened boar
- shunning the hounds around him in full cry.
- The hero on his active wings avoids
- the monster's jaws, and with his crooked sword
- tortures its back wherever he may pierce
- its mail of hollow shell, or strikes betwixt
- the ribs each side, or wounds its lashing tail,
- long, tapered as a fish.
- The monster spouts
- forth streams—incarnadined with blood—
- that spray upon the hero's wings; who drenched,
- and heavy with the spume, no longer dares
- to trust existence to his dripping wings;
- but he discerns a rock, which rises clear
- above the water when the sea is calm,
- but now is covered by the lashing waves.
- On this he rests; and as his left hand holds
- firm on the upmost ledge, he thrusts his sword,
- times more than three, unswerving in his aim,
- sheer through the monster's entrails.—Shouts of praise
- resound along the shores, and even the Gods
- may hear his glory in their high abodes.
- Her parents, Cepheus and Cassiope,
- most joyfully salute their son-in-law;
- declaring him the saviour of their house.
- And now, her chains struck off, the lovely cause
- and guerdon of his toil, walks on the shore.
- The hero washes his victorious hands
- in water newly taken from the sea:
- but lest the sand upon the shore might harm
- the viper-covered head, he first prepared
- a bed of springy leaves, on which he threw
- weeds of the sea, produced beneath the waves.
- On them he laid Medusa's awful face,
- daughter of Phorcys;—and the living weeds,
- fresh taken from the boundless deep, imbibed
- the monster's poison in their spongy pith:
- they hardened at the touch, and felt in branch
- and leaf unwonted stiffness. Sea-Nymphs, too,
- attempted to perform that prodigy
- on numerous other weeds, with like result:
- so pleased at their success, they raised new seeds,
- from plants wide-scattered on the salt expanse.
- Even from that day the coral has retained
- such wondrous nature, that exposed to air
- it hardens.—Thus, a plant beneath the waves
- becomes a stone when taken from the sea.
- Three altars to three Gods he made of turf.
- To thee, victorious Virgin, did he build
- an altar on the right, to Mercury
- an altar on the left, and unto Jove
- an altar in the midst. He sacrificed
- a heifer to Minerva, and a calf
- to Mercury, the Wingfoot, and a bull
- to thee, O greatest of the Deities.
- Without a dower he takes Andromeda,
- the guerdon of his glorious victory,
- nor hesitates.—Now pacing in the van,
- both Love and Hymen wave the flaring torch,
- abundant perfumes lavished in the flames.
- The houses are bedecked with wreathed flowers;
- and lyres and flageolets resound, and songs—
- felicit notes that happy hearts declare.
- The portals opened, sumptuous halls display
- their golden splendours, and the noble lords
- of Cepheus' court take places at the feast,
- magnificently served.
- After the feast,
- when every heart was warming to the joys of genial Bacchus,
- then, Lyncidian Perseus asked about the land and its ways
- about the customs and the character of its heroes.
- Straightway one of the dinner-companions made reply,
- and asked in turn, “ Now, valiant Perseus, pray
- tell the story of the deed, that all may know,
- and what the arts and power prevailed, when you
- struck off the serpent-covered head.”
- “There is,”
- continued Perseus of the house of Agenor,
- “There is a spot beneath cold Atlas, where
- in bulwarks of enormous strength, to guard
- its rocky entrance, dwelt two sisters, born
- of Phorcys. These were wont to share in turn
- a single eye between them: this by craft
- I got possession of, when one essayed
- to hand it to the other.—I put forth
- my hand and took it as it passed between:
- then, far, remote, through rocky pathless crags,
- over wild hills that bristled with great woods,
- I thence arrived to where the Gorgon dwelt.
- “Along the way, in fields and by the roads,
- I saw on all sides men and animals—
- like statues—turned to flinty stone at sight
- of dread Medusa's visage. Nevertheless
- reflected on the brazen shield, I bore
- upon my left, I saw her horrid face.
- “When she was helpless in the power of sleep
- and even her serpent-hair was slumber-bound,
- I struck, and took her head sheer from the neck.—
- To winged Pegasus the blood gave birth,
- his brother also, twins of rapid wing.”
- So did he speak, and truly told besides
- the perils of his journey, arduous
- and long—He told of seas and lands that far
- beneath him he had seen, and of the stars
- that he had touched while on his waving wings.
- And yet, before they were aware, the tale
- was ended; he was silent. Then rejoined
- a noble with enquiry why alone
- of those three sisters, snakes were interspersed
- in dread Medusa's locks. And he replied:—
- “Because, O Stranger, it is your desire
- to learn what worthy is for me to tell,
- hear ye the cause: Beyond all others she
- was famed for beauty, and the envious hope
- of many suitors. Words would fail to tell
- the glory of her hair, most wonderful
- of all her charms—A friend declared to me
- he saw its lovely splendour. Fame declares
- the Sovereign of the Sea attained her love
- in chaste Minerva's temple. While enraged
- she turned her head away and held her shield
- before her eyes. To punish that great crime
- Minerva changed the Gorgon's splendid hair
- to serpents horrible. And now to strike
- her foes with fear, she wears upon her breast
- those awful vipers—creatures of her rage.
- While Perseus, the brave son of Jupiter,
- surrounded at the feast by Cepheus' lords,
- narrated this, a raging multitude
- with sudden outcry filled the royal courts—
- not with the clamours of a wedding feast
- but boisterous rage, portentous of dread war.
- As when the fury of a great wind strikes
- a tranquil sea, tempestuous billows roll
- across the peaceful bosom of the deep;
- so were the pleasures at the banquet changed
- to sudden tumult.
- Foremost of that throng,
- the rash ring-leader, Phineus, shook his spear,
- brass-tipped of ash, and shouted, “Ha, 'tis I!
- I come avenger of my ravished bride!
- Let now your flittering wings deliver you,
- or even Jupiter, dissolved in showers
- of imitation gold.” So boasted he,
- aiming his spear at Perseus.
- Thus to him
- cried Cepheus: “Hold your hand, and strike him not!
- What strange delusions, O my brother, have
- compelled you to this crime? Is it the just
- requital of heroic worth? A fair
- reguerdon for the life of her you loved?
- “If truth were known, not Perseus ravished her
- from you; but, either 'twas the awful God
- that rules the Nereides; or Ammon, crowned
- with crescent horns; or that monstrosity
- of Ocean's vast abyss, which came to glut
- his famine on the issue of my loins.
- Nor was your suit abandoned till the time
- when she must perish and be lost to you.
- So cruel are you, seeking my daughter's death,
- rejoicing lightly in our deep despair.—
- “And was it not enough for you to stand
- supinely by, while she was bound in chains,
- and offer no assistance, though you were
- her lover and betrothed? And will you grieve
- that she was rescued from a dreadful fate,
- and spoil her champion of his just rewards?
- Rewards that now may seem magnificent,
- but not denied to you if you had won
- and saved, when she was fettered to the rock.
- “Let him, whose strength to my declining years
- restored my child, receive the merit due
- his words and deeds; and know his suit was not
- preferred to yours, but granted to prevent
- her certain death.”
- not deigning to reply,
- against them Phineus stood; and glancing back
- from him to Perseus, with alternate looks,
- as doubtful which should feel his first attack,
- made brief delay. Then vain at Perseus hurled
- his spear, with all the force that rage inspired,
- but, missing him it quivered in a couch.
- Provoked beyond endurance Perseus leaped
- forth from the cushioned seats, and fiercely sent
- that outwrenched weapon back. It would have pierced
- his hostile breast had not the miscreant crouched
- behind the altars. Oh perverted good,
- that thus an altar should abet the wrong!
- But, though the craven Phineus escaped,
- not vainly flew the whizzing point, but struck
- in Rhoetus' forehead. As the barb was torn
- out of the bone, the victim's heels began
- to kick upon the floor, and spouting blood
- defiled the festal board. Then truly flame
- in uncontrolled rage the vulgar crowd,
- and hurl their harmful darts.
- And there are some
- who hold that Cepheus and his son-in-law
- deserved to die; but Cepheus had passed forth
- the threshold of his palace: having called
- on all the Gods of Hospitality
- and Truth and Justice to attest, he gave
- no comfort to the enemies of Peace.
- Unconquered Pallas is at hand and holds
- her Aegis to protect her brother's life;
- she lends him dauntless courage. At the feast
- was one from India's distant shores, whose name
- was Athis. It was said that Limnate,
- the daughter of the River Ganges, him
- in vitreous caverns bright had brought to birth;
- and now at sixteen summers in his prime,
- the handsome youth was clad in costly robes.
- A purple mantle with a golden fringe
- covered his shoulders, and a necklace, carved
- of gold, enhanced the beauty of his throat.
- His hair encompassed with a coronal,
- delighted with sweet myrrh. Well taught was he
- to hurl the javelin at a distant mark,
- and none with better skill could stretch the bow.
- No sooner had he bent the pliant horns
- than Perseus, with a smoking billet, seized
- from the mid-altar, struck him on the face,
- and smashed his features in his broken skull.
- And when Assyrian Lycabas had seen
- his dear companion, whom he truly loved,
- beating his handsome countenance in blood.
- And when he had bewailed his lost life,
- that ebbed away from that unpiteous wound,
- he snatched the bow that Athis used, and said;
- “Let us in single combat seek revenge;
- not long will you rejoice the stripling's fate;
- a deed most worthy shame.” So speaking, forth
- the piercing arrow bounded from the cord,
- which, though avoided, struck the hero's cloak
- and fastened in its folds.—
- Then Perseus turned
- upon him, with the trusted curving sword,
- cause of Medusa's death, and drove the blade
- deep in his breast. The dying victim's eyes,
- now swimming in a shadowous night, looked 'round
- for Athis, whom, beholding, he reclined
- upon, and ushered to the other world,—
- sad consolation of united death.
- And Phorbas the descendant of Methion.
- Who hailed from far Syene, with his friend
- Amphimedon of Libya, in their haste
- to join the battle, slipped up in the blood
- and fell together: just as they arose
- that glittering sword was driven through the throat
- of Phorbas into the ribs of his companion.
- But Erithus, the son of Actor, swung
- a battle-ax, so weighty, Perseus chose
- not combat with his curving blade. He seized
- in his two hands a huge bowl, wrought around
- with large design, outstanding from its mass.
- This, lifting up, he dashes on his foe,
- who vomits crimson blood, and falling back
- beats on the hard floor with his dying head.
- And next he slew Caucasian Abaris,
- and Polydaemon—from Semiramis
- nobly descended—and Sperchius, son,
- Lycetus, long-haired Elyces, unshorn,
- Clytus and Phlegias, the hero slew;—
- and trampled on the dying heaped around.
- Not daring to engage his enemy
- in open contest, Phineus held aloof,
- and hurled his javelin. Badly aimed—by some
- mischance or turned—it wounded Idas, who
- had followed neither side; vain-hoping thus
- to shun the conflict.
- Idas, filled with rage,
- on Phineus gazed with futile hate, and said,
- “Since I am forced unwilling to such deeds,
- behold, whom you have made your enemy,
- O savage Phineus! Let your recompense
- be stroke for stroke.” So speaking, from the wound
- he drew the steel, but, faint from loss of blood,
- before his arm could hurl the weapon back,
- he sank upon his knees.
- Here, also, lies
- Odytes,—noblest of the Cephenes,
- save Cepheus only,—slaughtered by the sword
- of Clymenus. And Prothoenor lies
- the victim of Hypseus; by his side
- Hypseus slaughtered by Lyncidas falls.
- And in the midst of this destruction stood
- Emathion, now an aged man, revered,
- who feared the Gods, and stood for upright deeds.
- And, since his years denied him strength for war,
- he battled with his tongue, and railed, and cursed
- their impious weapons. As that aged man
- clings to the altar with his trembling hands,
- Chromis with ruthless sword cuts off his head,
- which straightway falls upon the altar, whence
- his dying tongue denounces them in words
- of execration: and his soul expires
- amid the altar flames.
- Then Broteas
- and Ammon, his twin brother, who not knew
- their equals at the cestus, by the hand
- of Phineus fell; for what avails in deed
- the cestus as a weapon matched with swords.
- Ampycus by the same hand fell,—the priest
- of Ceres, with his temples wreathed in white.
- And O, Iapetides not for this
- did you attend the feast! Your voice attuned
- melodious to the harp, was in request
- to celebrate the wedding-day with song,—
- a work of peace; as you did stand aside,
- holding the peaceful plectrum in your hand,
- the mocking Pettalus in ridicule said,
- “Go sing your ditties to the Stygian shades.”
- And, mocking thus, he drove his pointed sword
- in your right temple. As your limbs gave way,
- your dying fingers swept the tuneful strings:
- and falling you did chant a mournful dirge.—
- You to avenge enraged Lycormas tore
- a huge bar from the door-post, on the right,
- and dashing it against the mocker crushed
- his neck-bones: as a slaughtered bullock falls—
- he tumbled to the ground.
- Then on the left.
- Cinyphian Pelates began to wrench
- an oak plank from the door-post, but the spear
- of Corythus, the son of Marmarus,
- pinioned his right hand to the wooden post;
- and while he struggled Abas pierced his side.—
- He fell not to the floor, but dying hung
- suspended from the door-post by his hand.
- And of the friends of Perseus, Melaneus
- was slain, and Dorylas whose wealth was large
- in Nasamonian land. No other lord,
- as Dorylas, such vast estates possessed;
- no other owned so many heaps of corn.
- The missile steel stood fastened in his groin,
- obliquely fixed,—a fatal spot—and when
- the author of his wound, Halcyoneus
- the Bactrian, beheld his victim thus,
- rolling his eyes and sobbing forth his soul,
- he railed; “Keep for yourself of all your lands
- as much as you can cover.” And he left
- the bleeding corpse.
- But Perseus in revenge
- hurled after him a spear, which, in his need,
- he ripped out from the wound, yet warm, and struck
- the boaster on the middle of his nose.
- The piercing steel, passed through his nose and neck,—
- remained projecting from the front and back.
- And while good fortune helped his hand, he slew
- Clanis and Clytius, of one mother born,
- but with a different wound he slaughtered each:
- for, leveled by a mighty arm, his ashen spear
- drove through the thighs of Clytius, right and left,
- and Clanis bit the javelin with his teeth.
- And by his might, Mendesian Celadon
- and Atreus fell, his mother of the tribes
- of Palestine, his father was unknown.
- Aethion, also, who could well foresee
- the things to come, but was at last deceived
- by some false omen. And Thoactes fell,
- the armour-bearer of the king; and, next,
- the infamous Agyrtes who had slain
- his father. These he slew; and though his strength
- was nearly spent, so many more remained:
- for now the multitude with one accord
- conspired to slaughter him. From every side
- the raging troops assailed the better cause.
- In vain the pious father and the bride,
- together with her mother, fill the halls
- with lamentations; for the clash of arms,
- the groans of fallen heroes drown their cries.—
- Bellona in a sea of blood has drenched
- their Household Gods, polluted by these deeds,
- and she endeavours to renew the strife.
- Perseus, alone against that raging throng,
- is now surrounded by a myriad men,
- led on by Phineus; and their flying darts,
- as thick as wintry tail, are showered around
- on every side, grazing his eyes and ears.—
- Quickly he fixed his shoulder firm against
- the rock of a great pillar, which secured
- his back from danger, and he faced his foes,
- and baffled their attack.
- Upon his left
- Chaonian Molpeus pressed, and on his right
- a Nabathe an called Ethemon pressed.—
- As when a tiger from a valley hears
- the lowing of two herds, in separate fields,
- though hunger urges he not knows on which
- to spring, but rages equally for each;
- so, Perseus doubtful which may first attack
- his left or right, knows not on which to turn,
- but stands attentive witness to the flight
- of Molpeus, whom he wounded in the leg.
- Nor could he choose—Ethemon, full of rage,
- pressed on him to inflict a fatal wound,
- deep in his neck; but with incautious force
- struck the stone pillar with his ringing sword
- and shattered the metal blade, close to the hilt;
- the flying fragment pierced its owner's neck,
- but not with mortal wound. In vain he pled
- for mercy, stretching forth his helpless arms:
- perseus transfixed him with his glittering blade,
- Cyllenian.
- But when he saw his strength
- was yielding to the multitude, he said,
- “Since you have forced disaster on yourselves,
- why should I hesitate to save myself?—
- O friends, avert your faces if ye stand
- before me!” And he raised Medusa,s head.
- Thescelus answered him; “Seek other dupes
- to chase with wonders!” Just as he prepared
- to hurl the deadly javelin from his hand,
- he stood, unmoving in that attitude,
- a marble statue.
- Ampyx, close to him,
- exulting in a mighty spirit, made
- a lunge to pierce Lyncides in the breast;
- but, as his sword was flashing in the air,
- his right arm grew so rigid, there he stood
- unable to draw back or thrust it forth.
- But Nileus, who had feigned himself begot
- by seven-fold Nile, and carved his shield with gold
- and silver streams, alternate seven, shouted;
- “Look, look! O Perseus, him from whom I sprung!
- And you shall carry to the silent shades
- a mighty consolation in your death,
- that you were slain by such a one as I.”
- But in the midst of boasting, the last words
- were silenced; and his open mouth, although
- incapable of motion, seemed intent
- to utter speech.
- Then Eryx, chiding says;
- “Your craven spirits have benumbed you, not
- Medusa's poison.—Come with me and strike
- this youthful mover of magician charms
- down to the ground.”—He started with a rush;
- the earth detained his steps; it held him fast;
- he could not speak; he stood, complete with arms,
- a statue.
- Such a penalty was theirs,
- and justly earned; but near by there was one,
- aconteus, who defending Perseus, saw
- medusa as he fought; and at the sight
- the soldier hardened to an upright stone.—
- Assured he was alive, Astyages
- now struck him with his long sword, but the blade
- resounded with a ringing note; and there,
- astonished at the sound, Astyages,
- himself, assumed that nature; and remained
- with wonder pictured on his marble face.
- And not to weary with the names of men,
- sprung from the middle classes, there remained
- two hundred warriors eager for the fight—
- as soon as they could see Medusa's face,
- two hundred warriors stiffened into stone.
- At last, repentant, Phineus dreads the war,
- unjust, for in a helpless fright he sees
- the statues standing in strange attitudes;
- and, recognizing his adherents, calls
- on each by name to rescue from that death.
- Still unbelieving he begins to touch
- the bodies, nearest to himself, and all
- are hard stone.
- Having turned his eyes away,
- he stretched his hands and arms obliquely back
- to Perseus, and confessed his wicked deeds;
- and thus imploring spoke;
- “Remove, I pray,
- O Perseus, thou invincible, remove
- from me that dreadful Gorgon: take away
- the stone-creating countenance of thy
- unspeakable Medusa! For we warred
- not out of hatred, nor to gain a throne,
- but clashed our weapons for a woman's sake.—
- “Thy merit proved thy valid claim, and time
- gave argument for mine. It grieves me not
- to yield, O bravest, only give me life,
- and all the rest be thine.” Such words implored
- the craven, never daring to address
- his eyes to whom he spoke.
- And thus returned
- the valiant Perseus; “I will grant to you,
- O timid-hearted Phineus! as behoves
- your conduct; and it should appear a gift,
- magnanimous, to one who fears to move.—
- Take courage, for no steel shall violate
- your carcase; and, moreover, you shall be
- a monument, that ages may record
- your unforgotten name. You shall be seen
- thus always, in the palace where resides
- my father-in-law, that my surrendered spouse
- may soften her great grief when she but sees
- the darling image of her first betrothed.”
- He spoke, and moved Medusa to that side
- where Phineus had turned his trembling face:
- and as he struggled to avert his gaze
- his neck grew stiff; the moisture of his eyes
- was hardened into stone.—And since that day
- his timid face and coward eyes and hands,
- forever shall be guilty as in life.
- After such deeds, victorious Perseus turned,
- and sought the confines of his native land;
- together with his bride; which, having reached,
- he punished Proetus—who by force of arms
- had routed his own brother from the throne
- of Argos. By his aid Acrisius,
- although his undeserving parent, gained
- his citadels once more: for Proetus failed,
- with all his arms and towers unjustly held,
- to quell the grim-eyed monster, snake-begin.
- Yet not the valour of the youth, upheld
- by many labours, nor his grievous wrongs
- have softened you, O Polydectes! king
- of Little Seriphus; but bitter hate
- ungoverned, rankles in your hardened heart—
- there is no limit to your unjust rage.
- Even his praises are defamed by you
- and all your arguments are given to prove
- Medusa's death a fraud.—Perseus rejoined;
- “By this we give our true pledge of the truth,
- avert your eyes!” And by Medusa's face
- he made the features of that impious king
- a bloodless stone.
- Through all these mighty deeds
- Pallas, Minerva, had availed to guide
- her gold-begotten brother. Now she sped,
- surrounded in a cloud, from Seriphus,
- while Cynthus on the right, and Gyarus
- far faded from her view. And where a path,
- high over the deep sea, leads the near way,
- she winged the air for Thebes, and Helicon
- haunt of the Virgin Nine.
- High on that mount
- she stayed her flight, and with these words bespoke
- those well-taught sisters; “Fame has given to me
- the knowledge of a new-made fountain—gift
- of Pegasus, that fleet steed, from the blood
- of dread Medusa sprung—it opened when
- his hard hoof struck the ground.—It is the cause
- that brought me.—For my longing to have seen
- this fount, miraculous and wonderful,
- grows not the less in that myself did see
- the swift steed, nascent from maternal blood.”
- To which Urania thus; “Whatever the cause
- that brings thee to our habitation, thou,
- O goddess, art to us the greatest joy.
- And now, to answer thee, reports are true;
- this fountain is the work of Pegasus,”
- And having said these words, she gladly thence
- conducted Pallas to the sacred streams.
- And Pallas, after she had long admired
- that fountain, flowing where the hoof had struck,
- turned round to view the groves of ancient trees;
- the grottoes and the grass bespangled, rich
- with flowers unnumbered—all so beautiful
- she deemed the charm of that locality
- a fair surrounding for the studious days
- of those Mnemonian Maids.
- But one of them
- addressed her thus; “O thou whose valour gave
- thy mind to greater deeds! if thou hadst stooped
- to us, Minerva, we had welcomed thee
- most worthy of our choir! Thy words are true;
- and well hast thou approved the joys of art,
- and this retreat. Most happy would we be
- if only we were safe; but wickedness
- admits of no restraint, and everything
- affrights our virgin minds; and everywhere
- the dreadful Pyrenaeus haunts our sight;—
- scarcely have we recovered from the shock.
- “That savage, with his troops of Thrace. had seized
- the lands of Daulis and of Phocis, where
- he ruled in tyranny; and when we sought
- the Temples of Parnassus, he observed
- us on our way;—and knowing our estate,
- pretending to revere our sacred lives,
- he said; ‘O Muses, I beseech you pause!
- Choose now the shelter of my roof and shun
- the heavy stars that teem with pouring rain;
- nor hesitate, for often the glorious Gods
- have entered humbler homes.’
- “Moved by his words,
- and by the growing storm, we gave assent,
- and entered his first house. But presently
- the storm abated, and the southern wind
- was conquered by the north; the black clouds fled,
- and soon the skies were clear.
- “At once we sought
- to quit the house, but Pyrenaeus closed
- all means of exit,—and prepared to force
- our virtue. Instantly we spread our wings,
- and so escaped; but on a lofty tower
- he stood, as if to follow, and exclaimed;
- ‘A path for you marks out a way for me.,
- and quite insane, he leaped down from the top
- of that high tower.—Falling on his face,
- the bones were crushed, and as his life ebbed out
- the ground was crimsoned with his wicked blood.”
- So spoke the Muse. And now was heard the sound
- of pennons in the air, and voices, too,
- gave salutations from the lofty trees.
- Minerva, thinking they were human tongues,
- looked up in question whence the perfect words;
- but on the boughs, nine ugly magpies perched,
- those mockers of all sounds, which now complained
- their hapless fate. And as she wondering stood,
- Urania, goddess of the Muse, rejoined;—
- “Look, those but lately worsted in dispute
- augment the number of unnumbered birds.—
- Pierus was their father, very rich
- in lands of Pella; and their mother (called
- Evippe of Paeonia) when she brought
- them forth, nine times evoked, in labours nine,
- Lucina's aid.—Unduly puffed with pride,
- because it chanced their number equalled ours,
- these stupid sisters, hither to engage
- in wordy contest, fared through many towns;—
- through all Haemonia and Achaia came
- to us, and said;—
- ‘Oh, cease your empty songs,
- attuned to dulcet numbers, that deceive
- the vulgar, untaught throng. If aught is yours
- of confidence, O Thespian Deities
- contend with us: our number equals yours.
- We will not be defeated by your arts;
- nor shall your songs prevail.—Then, conquered, give
- Hyantean Aganippe; yield to us
- the Medusean Fount;—and should we fail,
- we grant Emathia's plains, to where uprise
- Paeonia's peaks of snow.—Let chosen Nymphs
- award the prize—.’ 'Twas shameful to contend;
- it seemed more shameful to submit. At once,
- the chosen Nymphs swore justice by their streams,
- and sat in judgment on their thrones of rock.
- “At once, although the lot had not been cast,
- the leading sister hastened to begin.—
- She chanted of celestial wars; she gave
- the Giants false renown; she gave the Gods
- small credit for great deeds.—She droned out, ‘Forth,
- those deepest realms of earth, Typhoeus came,
- and filled the Gods with fear. They turned their backs
- in flight to Egypt; and the wearied rout,
- where Great Nile spreads his seven-channeled mouth,
- were there received.—Thither the earth-begot
- Typhoeus hastened: but the Gods of Heaven
- deceptive shapes assumed.—Lo, Jupiter,
- (As Libyan Ammon's crooked horns attest)
- was hidden in the leader of a flock;
- Apollo in a crow; Bacchus in a goat;
- Diana in a cat; Venus in a fish;
- Saturnian Juno in a snow-white cow;
- Cyllenian Hermes in an Ibis' wings.’—
- Such stuff she droned out from her noisy mouth:
- and then they summoned us; but, haply, time
- permits thee not, nor leisure thee permits,
- that thou shouldst hearken to our melodies.”
- “Nay doubt it not,” quoth Pallas, “but relate
- your melodies in order.” And she sat
- beneath the pleasant shadows of the grove.
- And thus again Urania; “On our side
- we trusted all to one.” Which having said,
- Calliope arose. Her glorious hair
- was bound with ivy. She attuned the chords,
- and chanted as she struck the sounding strings:—
- “First Ceres broke with crooked plow the glebe;
- first gave to earth its fruit and wholesome food;
- first gave the laws;—all things of Ceres came;
- of her I sing; and oh, that I could tell
- her worth in verse; in verse her worth is due.
- “Because he dared to covet heavenly thrones
- Typhoeus, giant limbs are weighted down
- beneath Sicilia's Isle—vast in extent—
- how often thence he strains and strives to rise?
- But his right hand Pachynus holds; his legs are pressed
- by Lilybaeus, Aetna weights his head.
- Beneath that ponderous mass Typhoeus lies,
- flat on his back; and spues the sands on high;
- and vomits flames from his ferocious mouth.
- He often strives to push the earth away,
- the cities and the mountains from his limbs—
- by which the lands are shaken. Even the king,
- that rules the silent shades is made to quake,
- for fear the earth may open and the ground,
- cleft in wide chasms, letting in the day,
- may terrify the trembling ghosts. Afraid
- of this disaster, that dark despot left
- his gloomy habitation; carried forth
- by soot-black horses, in his gloomy car.
- “He circumspectly viewed Sicilia's vast
- foundations.—Having well explored and proved
- no part was shattered; having laid aside
- his careful fears, he wandered in those parts.
- “Him, Venus, Erycina, in her mount
- thus witnessed, and embraced her winged son,
- and said, ‘O Cupid! thou who art my son—
- my arms, my hand, my strength; take up those arms,
- by which thou art victorious over all,
- and aim thy keenest arrow at the heart
- of that divinity whom fortune gave
- the last award, what time the triple realm,
- by lot was portioned out.
- ‘The Gods of Heaven
- are overcome by thee; and Jupiter,
- and all the Deities that swim the deep,
- and the great ruler of the Water-Gods:
- why, then, should Tartarus escape our sway—
- the third part of the universe at stake—
- by which thy mother's empire and thy own
- may be enlarged according to great need.
- ‘How shameful is our present lot in Heaven,
- the powers of love and I alike despised;
- for, mark how Pallas has renounced my sway,
- besides Diana, javelin-hurler—so
- will Ceres' daughter choose virginity,
- if we permit,—that way her hopes incline.
- Do thou this goddess Proserpine, unite
- in marriage to her uncle. Venus spoke;—
- “Cupid then loosed his quiver, and of all
- its many arrows, by his mother's aid,
- selected one; the keenest of them all;
- the least uncertain, surest from the string:
- and having fixed his knee against the bow,
- bent back the flexile horn.—The flying shaft
- struck Pluto in the breast.
- “There is a lake
- of greatest depth, not far from Henna's walls,
- long since called Pergus; and the songs of swans,
- that wake Cayster, rival not the notes
- of swans melodious on its gliding waves:
- a fringe of trees, encircling as a wreath
- its compassed waters, with a leafy veil
- denies the heat of noon; cool breezes blow
- beneath the boughs; the humid ground is sprent
- with purpling flowers, and spring eternal reigns.
- “While Proserpine once dallied in that grove,
- plucking white lilies and sweet violets,
- and while she heaped her basket, while she filled
- her bosom, in a pretty zeal to strive
- beyond all others; she was seen, beloved,
- and carried off by Pluto—such the haste
- of sudden love.
- “The goddess, in great fear,
- called on her mother and on all her friends;
- and, in her frenzy, as her robe was rent,
- down from the upper edge, her gathered flowers
- fell from her loosened tunic.—This mishap,
- so perfect was her childish innocence,
- increased her virgin grief.—
- “The ravisher
- urged on his chariot, and inspired his steeds;
- called each by name, and on their necks and manes
- shook the black-rusted reins. They hastened through
- deep lakes, and through the pools of Palici,
- which boiling upward from the ruptured earth
- smell of strong sulphur. And they bore him thence
- to where the sons of Bacchus, who had sailed
- from twin-sea Corinth, long ago had built
- a city's walls between unequal ports.