Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- “For this the Nymph, Alpheian, raised her head
- above Elean waves; and having first
- pushed back her dripping tresses from her brows,
- back to her ears, she thus began to speak;
- ‘O mother of the virgin, sought throughout
- the globe! O mother of nutritious fruits!
- Let these tremendous labours have an end;
- do not increase the violence of thy wrath
- against the Earth, devoted to thy sway,
- and not deserving blame; for only force
- compelled the Earth to open for that wrong.
- Think not my supplication is to aid
- my native country; hither I am come
- an alien: Pisa is my native land,
- and Elis gave me birth. Though I sojourn
- a stranger in this isle of Sicily
- it yet delights me more than all the world.
- ‘I, Arethusa, claim this isle my home,
- and do implore thee keep my throne secure,
- O greatest of the Gods! A better hour,
- when thou art lightened of thy cares, will come,
- and when thy countenance again is kind;
- and then may I declare what cause removed
- me from my native place—and through the waves
- of such a mighty ocean guided me
- to find Ortygia.
- ‘Through the porous earth
- by deepest caverns, I uplift my head
- and see unwonted stars. Now it befell,
- as I was gliding far beneath the world,
- where flow dark Stygian streams, I saw
- thy Proserpine. Although her countenance
- betrayed anxiety and grief, a queen She reigned
- supremely great in that opacous world
- queen consort mighty to the King of Hell.’
- “Astonished and amazed, as thunderstruck,
- when Proserpina's mother heard these words,
- long while she stood till great bewilderment
- gave way to heavy grief. Then to the skies,
- ethereal, she mounted in her car
- and with beclouded face and streaming hair
- stood fronting Jove, opprobrious. ‘I have come
- O Jupiter, a suppliant to thee,
- both for my own offspring as well as thine.
- If thy hard heart deny a mother grace,
- yet haply as a father thou canst feel
- some pity for thy daughter; and I pray
- thy care for her may not be valued less
- because my groaning travail brought her forth.—
- My long-sought daughter has at last been found,
- if one can call it, found, when certain loss
- more certain has been proved; or so may deem
- the knowledge of her state.—But I may bear
- his rude ways, if again he bring her back.
- ‘Thy worthy child should not be forced to wed
- a bandit-chief, nor should my daughter's charms
- reward his crime.’ She spoke;—and Jupiter
- took up the word; ‘This daughter is a care,
- a sacred pledge to me as well as thee;
- but if it please us to acknowledge truth,
- this is a deed of love and injures not.
- And if, O goddess, thou wilt not oppose,
- such law-son cannot compass our disgrace:
- for though all else were wanting, naught can need
- Jove's brother, who in fortune yields to none
- save me. But if thy fixed desire compel
- dissent, let Proserpine return to Heaven;
- however, subject to the binding law,
- if there her tongue have never tasted food—
- a sure condition, by the Fates decreed.’
- he spoke; but Ceres was no less resolved
- to lead her daughter thence.
- “Not so the Fates
- permit.—The virgin, thoughtless while she strayed
- among the cultivated Stygian fields,
- had broken fast. While there she plucked the fruit
- by bending a pomegranate tree, and plucked,
- and chewed seven grains, picked from the pallid rind;
- and none had seen except Ascalaphus—
- him Orphne, famed of all Avernian Nymphs,
- had brought to birth in some infernal cave,
- days long ago, from Acheron's embrace—
- he saw it, and with cruel lips debarred
- young Proserpine's return. Heaving a sigh,
- the Queen of Erebus, indignant changed
- that witness to an evil bird: she turned
- his head, with sprinkled Phlegethonian lymph,
- into a beak, and feathers, and great eyes;
- his head grew larger and his shape, deformed,
- was cased in tawny wings; his lengthened nails
- bent inward;—and his sluggish arms
- as wings can hardly move. So he became
- the vilest bird; a messenger of grief;
- the lazy owl; sad omen to mankind.
- “The telltale's punishment was only just;
- O Siren Maids, but wherefore thus have ye
- the feet and plumes of birds, although remain
- your virgin features? Is it from the day
- when Proserpina gathered vernal flowers;
- because ye mingled with her chosen friends?
- And after she was lost, in vain ye sought
- through all the world; and wished for wings to waft
- you over the great deep, that soon the sea
- might feel your great concern.—The Gods were kind:
- ye saw your limbs grow yellow, with a growth
- of sudden-sprouting feathers; but because
- your melodies that gently charm the ear,
- besides the glory of your speech, might lose
- the blessing, of a tongue, your virgin face
- and human voice remained.
- “But Jupiter,
- the mediator of these rival claims,
- urged by his brother and his grieving sister,
- divided the long year in equal parts.
- Now Proserpina, as a Deity,
- of equal merit, in two kingdoms reigns:—
- for six months with her mother she abides,
- and six months with her husband.—Both her mind
- and her appearance quickly were transformed;
- for she who seemed so sad in Pluto's eyes,
- now as a goddess beams in joyful smiles;
- so, when the sun obscured by watery mist
- conquers the clouds, it shines in splendour forth.