Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- “And genial Ceres, full of joy, that now
- her daughter was regained, began to speak;
- ‘Declare the reason of thy wanderings,
- O Arethusa! tell me wherefore thou
- wert made a sacred stream.’ The waters gave
- no sound; but soon that goddess raised her head
- from the deep springs; and after sue had dried
- her green hair with her hand, with fair address
- she told the ancient amours of that stream
- which flows through Elis.—‘I was one among
- the Nymphs of old Achaia,’—so she said—
- ‘And none of them more eager sped than I,
- along the tangled pathways; and I fixed
- the hunting-nets with zealous care.—Although
- I strove not for the praise that beauty gives,
- and though my form was something stout for grace,
- it had the name of being beautiful.
- ‘So worthless seemed the praise, I took no joy
- in my appearance—as a country lass
- I blushed at those endowments which would give
- delight to others—even the power to please
- seemed criminal.—And I remember when
- returning weary from Stymphal fan woods,
- and hot with toil, that made the glowing sun
- seem twice as hot, I chanced upon a stream,
- that flowed without a ripple or a sound
- so smoothly on, I hardly thought it moved.
- ‘The water was so clear that one could see
- and count the pebbles in the deepest parts,
- and silver willows and tall poplar trees,
- nourished by flowing waters, spread their shade
- over the shelving banks. So I approached,
- and shrinkingly touched the cool stream with my feet;
- and then I ventured deeper to my knees;
- and not contented doffed my fleecy robes,
- and laid them on a bending willow tree.
- Then, naked, I plunged deeply in the stream,
- and while I smote the water with my hands,
- and drew it towards me, striking boldly forth,
- moving my body in a thousand ways,
- I thought I heard a most unusual sound,
- a murmuring noise beneath the middle stream.
- ‘Alarmed, I hastened to the nearest bank,
- and as I stood upon its edge, these words
- hoarsely Alpheus uttered from his waves;
- ‘Oh, whither dost thou hasten?’ and again,
- ‘Oh, whither dost thou hasten?’ said the voice.
- ‘Just as I was, I fled without my clothes,
- for I had left them on the other bank;
- which, when he saw, so much the more inflamed,
- more swiftly he pursued: my nakedness
- was tempting to his gaze. And thus I ran;
- and thus relentlessly he pressed my steps:
- so from the hawk the dove with trembling wings;
- and so, the hawk pursues the frightened dove.
- ‘Swiftly and long I fled, with winding course,
- to Orchamenus, Psophis and Cyllene,
- and Maenalus and Erymanthus cold,
- and Elis. Neither could he gain by speed,
- although his greater strength must soon prevail,
- for I not longer could endure the strain.
- ‘Still I sped onward through the fields and woods,
- by tangled wilds and over rocks and crags;
- and as I hastened from the setting sun,
- I thought I saw a growing shadow move
- beyond my feet; it may have been my fear
- imagined it, but surely now I heard
- the sound of footsteps: I could even feel
- his breathing on the loose ends of my hair;
- and I was terrified. At last, worn out
- by all my efforts to escape, I cried;
- ‘Oh, help me—thou whose bow and quivered darts
- I oft have borne—thy armour-bearer calls—
- O chaste Diana help,—or I am lost.’
- ‘It moved the goddess, and she gathered up
- a dense cloud, and encompassed me about.—
- The baffled River circled round and round,
- seeking to find me, hidden in that cloud—
- twice went the River round, and twice cried out,
- ‘Ho, Arethusa! Arethusa, Ho!’
- ‘What were my wretched feelings then? Could I
- be braver than the Iamb that hears the wolves,
- howling around the high-protecting fold?
- Or than the hare, which lurking in the bush
- knows of the snarling hounds and dares not move?
- And yet, Alpheus thence would not depart,
- for he could find no footprints of my flight.
- ‘He watched the cloud and spot, and thus besieged,
- a cold sweat gathered on my trembling limbs.
- The clear-blue drops, distilled from every pore,
- made pools of water where I moved my feet,
- and dripping moisture trickled from my hair.—
- Much quicker than my story could be told,
- my body was dissolved to flowing streams.—
- But still the River recognized the waves,
- and for the love of me transformed his shape
- from human features to his proper streams,
- that so his waters might encompass mine.
- ‘Diana, therefore, opened up the ground,
- in which I plunged, and thence through gloomy caves
- was carried to Ortygia—blessed isle!
- To which my chosen goddess gave her name!
- Where first I rose amid the upper air!’
- “Thus Arethusa made an end of speech:
- and presently the fertile goddess yoked
- two dragons to her chariot: she curbed
- their mouths with bits: they bore her through the air,
- in her light car betwixt the earth and skies,
- to the Tritonian citadel, and to
- Triptolemus, to whom she furnished seed,
- that he might scatter it in wasted lands,
- and in the fallow fields; which, after long
- neglect, again were given to the plow.
- “After he had traveled through uncharted skies,
- over wide Europe and vast Asian lands,
- he lit upon the coast of Scythia, where
- a king called Lyncus reigned. And there, at once
- he sought the palace of that king, who said;
- ‘Whence come you, stranger, wherefore in this land?
- Come, tell to me your nation and your name.’
- “And after he was questioned thus, he said,
- ‘I came from far-famed Athens and they call
- my name Triptolemus. I neither came
- by ship through waves, nor over the dry land;
- for me the yielding atmosphere makes way.—
- I bear the gifts of Ceres to your land,
- which scattered over your wide realm may yield
- an ample harvest of nutritious food.’
- “The envious Lyncus, wishing to appear
- the gracious author of all benefits,
- received the unsuspecting youth with smiles;
- but when he fell into a heavy sleep
- that savage king attacked him with a sword—
- but while attempting to transfix his guest,
- the goddess Ceres changed him to a lynx:—
- and once again she sent her favoured youth
- to drive her sacred dragons through the clouds.
- “The greatest of our number ended thus
- her learned songs; and with concordant voice
- the chosen Nymphs adjudged the Deities,
- on Helicon who dwell, should be proclaimed
- the victors.
- “But the vanquished nine began
- to scatter their abuse; to whom rejoined
- the goddess; ‘Since it seems a trifling thing
- that you should suffer a deserved defeat,
- and you must add unmerited abuse
- to heighten your offence, and since by this
- appears the end of our endurance, we
- shall certainly proceed to punish you
- according to the limit of our wrath.’
- “But these Emathian sisters laughed to scorn
- our threatening words; and as they tried to speak,
- and made great clamour, and with shameless hands
- made threatening gestures, suddenly stiff quills
- sprouted from out their finger-nails, and plumes
- spread over their stretched arms; and they could see
- the mouth of each companion growing out
- into a rigid beak.—And thus new birds
- were added to the forest.—While they made
- complaint, these Magpies that defile our groves,
- moving their stretched-out arms, began to float,
- suspended in the air. And since that time
- their ancient eloquence, their screaming notes,
- their tiresome zeal of speech have all remained.”