part more worthy of notice than her hair: I have met {with some} who

said they had seen it. The sovereign of the sea is said to have

deflowered her in the Temple of Minerva. The daughter of Jove turned

away, and covered her chaste eyes with her shield. And that this might

not be unpunished, she changed the hair of the Gorgon into hideous

snakes. Now, too, that she may alarm her surprised foes with terror, she

bears in front upon her breast, those snakes which she {thus} produced.”

[Footnote 77: _Hippotas._--Ver. 663. Æolus, the God of the Winds,

was the son of Jupiter, by Acesta, the daughter of Hippotas.]

[Footnote 78: _Ammon._--Ver. 671. Jupiter, with the surname of

Ammon, had a temple in the deserts of Libya, where he was

worshipped under the shape of a ram; a form which he was supposed

to have assumed, when, in common with the other Deities, he fled

from the attacks of the Giants. The oracle of Jupiter Ammon being

consulted relative to the sea monster, which Neptune, at the

request of the Nereids, had sent against the Ethiopians, answered

that Andromeda must be exposed to be devoured by it; which Ovid

here, not without reason, calls an unjust demand.]

[Footnote 79: _Mother’s tongue._--Ver. 670. Cassiope, the mother

of Andromeda, had dared to compare her own beauty with that of the

Nereids. Cepheus, the son of Phœnix, was the father of Andromeda.]

[Footnote 80: _Warm._--Ver. 674. ‘Tepido,’ ‘warm,’ is decidedly

preferable here to ‘trepido,’ ‘trembling.’]

[Footnote 81: _Dare address._--Ver. 682. Heinsius thinks that

‘appellare’ here is not the correct reading; and suggests

‘aspectare,’ which seems to be more consistent with the sense of

the passage, which would then be, ‘and does not dare to look down

upon the hero.’]

[Footnote 82: _Monster approaching._--Ver. 689. Pliny the Elder

and Solinus tell us that the bones of this monster were afterwards

brought from Joppa, a seaport of Judæa, to Rome, and that the

skeleton was forty feet in length, and the spinal bone was six

feet in circumference.]

[Footnote 83: _The perspiring arms._--Ver. 707. ‘Juvenum

sudantibus acta lacertis’ is translated by Clarke, ‘forced forward

by the arms of sweating young fellows.’]

[Footnote 84: _Bird of Jupiter._--Ver. 714. The eagle was the bird

sacred to Jove. The larger kinds of birds which afforded auguries

from their mode of flight, were called ‘præpetes.’]

[Footnote 85: _Avoids the eager bites._--Ver. 723. Clarke

translates this line, ‘He avoids the monster’s eager snaps with

his swift wings.’]

[Footnote 86: _His dripping pinions._--Ver. 730. ‘Talaria’ were

either wings fitted to the ankles, or shoes having such wings

fastened to them; they were supposed to be usually worn by

Mercury.]

[Footnote 87: _Clinging to the upper ridge._--Ver. 733. ‘Tenens

juga prima sinistra’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘seizing the tip-top

of it with his left hand.’]

[Footnote 88: _Being handed over._--Ver. 766. Of course, as they

had but one eye between them, they must have both been blind while

it was passing from one hand to another, so that Perseus could

have had but little difficulty in effecting the theft here

mentioned.]

[Footnote 89: _Brass of the shield._--Ver. 783. This reflecting

shield Perseus is said to have received from Minerva, and by

virtue of it he was enabled to see without being seen. Lucian says

that Minerva herself held this reflecting shield before him, and

by that means afforded him the opportunity of seeing the

reflection of Medusa’s figure; and that Perseus, seizing her by

the hair with his left hand, and keeping his eye fixed on the

image reflected in the shield, took his sword in his right, and

cut off her head, and then, by the aid of his wings, flew away

before the other Gorgon sisters were aware of what he had done.]

[Footnote 90: _Pegasus and his brother._--Ver. 786. Pegasus and

Chrysaor were two winged horses, which were fabled to have sprung

up from the blood of Medusa, when slain by Perseus.]

[Footnote 91: _Themselves no fiction._--Ver. 787. His dangers were

not false or imaginary, inasmuch as he was pursued by Sthenyo and

Euryale, the sisters of Medusa, who were fabled to have wings, and

claws of iron on their hands. Ovid deals a sly hit in the words

‘non falsa pericula cursus,’ at the tales of travellers, who, even

in his day, seem to have commenced dealing in the marvellous; as,

indeed, we may learn for ourselves, on turning to the pages of

Herodotus, who seems to have been often imposed upon.]

[Footnote 92: _Before it was expected._--Ver. 790. Showing thereby

how delighted his audience was with his narrative.]

EXPLANATION.

It is extremely difficult to surmise what may have given rise to many

of the fabulous circumstances here narrated. It has been conjectured

by some, that Pegasus and his brother Chrysaor, the two horses

produced from the blood of Medusa, were really two ships in the harbor

of the island where that princess was residing at the time when she

was slain by Perseus; and that, on that event, they were seized by

him. Perhaps they had the figure of a winged horse on the prow; from

which circumstance the fable had its origin. Possibly, the story of

the production of coral from the blood of Medusa may have originated

in the fact, that on the defeat of the Gorgons, navigation became more

safe, and, consequently, the fishing for coral more common than it had

been before.

The story of the exposure of Andromeda may be founded on the fact,

that she was contracted by her parents against her will to some

fierce, piratical prince, who infested the adjacent seas with his

depredations; and that the betrothal was made, on condition that he

should allow the realms of her father, Cepheus, to be free and

undisturbed; Perseus, being informed of this, slew the pirate, and

Phineus having been kept in a state of inactivity through dread of the

valor of Perseus, it was fabled that he had been changed into a stone.

This interpretation of the story is the one suggested by Vossius.

Some writers think, that Phineus, the uncle of Andromeda, was the

enemy from which she was rescued by Perseus, and who is here

represented under the form of a monster; while others suggest that

this monster was the name of the ship in which the pirate before

mentioned was to have carried away Andromeda.

BOOK THE FIFTH.

FABLE I. [V.1-242]

While Perseus is continuing the relation of the adventures of Medusa,

Phineus, to whom Andromeda has been previously promised in marriage,

rushes into the palace, with his adherents, and attacks his rival.

A furious combat is the consequence, in which Perseus gives signal

proofs of his valor. At length, perceiving himself likely to be

overpowered by the number of his enemies, he shows them the head of

the Gorgon; on which Phineus and his followers are turned into statues

of stone. After this victory, he takes Andromeda with him to Argos,

his native city, where he turns the usurper Prœtus into stone, and

re-establishes his grandfather Acrisius on the throne.

And while the hero, the son of Danaë, is relating these things in the

midst of the company of the subjects of Cepheus, the royal courts are

filled with a raging multitude; nor is the clamor such as celebrates a

marriage-feast, but one which portends dreadful warfare. You might

compare the banquet, changed into a sudden tumult, to the sea, which,

when calm, the boisterous rage of the winds disturbs by raising its

waves.

Foremost among these, Phineus,[1] the rash projector of the onslaught,

shaking an ashen spear with a brazen point, cries, “Behold! {now},

behold! I am come, the avenger of my wife, ravished from me; neither

shall thy wings nor Jupiter turned into fictitious gold, deliver thee

from me.” As he is endeavoring to hurl {his lance}, Cepheus cries out,

“What art thou doing? What fancy, my brother, impels thee, in thy

madness, to this crime? Is this the due acknowledgment to return

for deserts so great? Dost thou repay the life of her {thus} preserved,

with this reward? ’Twas not Perseus, if thou wouldst know the truth,

that took her away from thee; but the incensed majesty of the Nereids,

and horned Ammon, and the monster of the sea, which came to be glutted

with my bowels. She was snatched from thee at that moment, at which she

was to have perished; unless it is that thou dost, in thy cruelty,

insist upon that very thing, that she should perish, and wilt be

appeased only by my affliction. It is not enough, forsooth, that in thy

presence she was bound and that thou, both her uncle and her betrothed,

didst give no assistance; wilt thou be grieving, besides, that she was

saved by another, and wilt thou deprive him of his reward? If this

appears great to thee, thou shouldst have recovered it from the rock to

which it was fastened. Now, let him who has recovered it, through whom

my old age is not childless, have what he stipulated for, both by his

merits and his words; and know that he was preferred not before thee,

but before certain death.”

{Phineus said} nothing, on the other hand; but viewing both him and

Perseus, with alternate looks, he was uncertain whether he should

{first} attack the one or the other; and, having paused a short time, he

vainly threw his spear, hurled with all the force that rage afforded. As

it stood fixed in the cushion,[2] then, at length, Perseus leapt off

from the couch, and in his rage would have pierced the breast of his

enemy with the weapon, thrown back, had not Phineus gone behind an

altar, and {thus} (how unworthily!) an altar[3] protected a miscreant.

However, the spear, not thrown in vain, stuck in the forehead of Rhœtus;

who, after he fell, and the steel was wrenched from the skull, he

{still} struggled, and besprinkled the laid tables with his blood. But

then does the multitude burst forth into ungovernable rage, and hurl

their weapons. Some there are, who say that Cepheus ought to die with

his son-in-law; but Cepheus has gone out by the entrance of the house,

calling right and good faith to witness, and the Gods of hospitality,[4]

that this disturbance is made contrary to his will. The warlike Pallas

comes; and with her shield protects her brother {Perseus}, and gives him

courage. There was an Indian, Athis {by name},[5] whom Limnate, the

daughter of the river Ganges, is believed to have brought forth beneath

the glassy waters; excelling in beauty, which he improved by his rich

dress; in his prime, as yet but twice eight years of age, dressed in a

purple tunic, which a golden fringe bordered; a gilded necklace graced

his neck, and a curved hair-pin his hair wet with myrrh. He, indeed, had

been taught to hit things, although at a distance, with his hurled

javelin, but {he was} more skilled at bending the bow. {Perseus} struck

him even then, as he was bending with his hands the flexible horns {of a

bow}, with a billet, which, placed in the middle of the altar, was

smoking, and he crushed his face into his broken skull.

When the Assyrian Lycabas, who was a most attached friend of his, and no

concealer of his real affection, saw him rolling his features, the

objects of such praises, in his blood; after he had bewailed Athis,

breathing forth his life from this cruel wound, he seized the bow which

he had bent, and said, “And {now} let the contest against thee be with

me; not long shalt thou exult in the fate of the youth, by which thou

acquirest more hatred than praise.” All this he had not yet said, {when}

the piercing weapon darted from the string, and {though} avoided, still

it hung in the folds of his garment. The grandson of Acrisius turned

against him his falchion,[6] {already} proved in the slaughter of

Medusa, and thrust it into his breast. But he, now dying, with his eyes

swimming in black night, looked around for Athis, and sank upon him, and

carried to the shades the consolation of a united death. Lo! Phorbas of

Syene,[7] the son of Methion, and Amphimedon, the Libyan, eager to

engage in the fight, fell down, slipping in the blood with which the

earth was warm, soaked on every side; as they arose the sword met them,

being thrust in the ribs of the one, {and} in the throat of Phorbas. But

Perseus does not attack Erithus, the son of Actor, whose weapon is a

broad battle-axe, by using his sword, but he takes up, with both hands,

a huge bowl,[8] standing out with figures deeply embossed, and of vast

mass in its weight, and hurls it against the man. The other vomits forth

red blood, and, falling on his back, beats the ground with his dying

head. Then he slays Polydæmon, sprung from the blood of Semiramis, and

the Caucasian Abaris, and Lycetus, the son of Sperchius,[9] and Elyces,

with unshorn locks, and Phlegias, and Clytus; and he tramples upon the

heaps of the dying, which he has piled up.

But Phineus, not daring to engage hand to hand with his enemy, hurls his

javelin, which accident carries against Idas, who, in vain, has declined

the warfare[10] and has followed the arms of neither. He, looking at the

cruel Phineus with stern eyes, says, “Since I am {thus} forced to take a

side, take the enemy, Phineus, that thou hast made, and make amends for

my wound with this wound.” And now, just about to return the dart drawn

from his body, he falls sinking down upon his limbs void of blood. Here,

too, Odytes, the next in rank among the followers of Cepheus, after the

king, lies prostrate under the sword of Clymenus; Hypseus kills

Protenor, {and} Lyncides Hypseus. There is, too, among them the aged

Emathion, an observer of justice, and a fearer of the Gods; as his years

prevent him from fighting, he engages by talking, and he condemns and

utters imprecations against their accursed arms. As he clings to the

altars[11] with trembling hands, Chromis cuts off his head with his

sword, which straightway falls upon the altar, and there, with his dying

tongue he utters words of execration, and breathes forth his soul in the

midst of the fires. Upon this, two brothers, Broteas and Ammon

invincible at boxing, if swords could only be conquered by boxing, fell

by the hand of Phineus; Ampycus, too, the priest of Ceres, having his

temples wreathed with a white fillet. Thou too, son of Iapetus, not to

be employed for these services; but one who tuned the lyre, the work of

peace, to thy voice, hadst been ordered to attend the banquet and

festival with thy music. As thou art standing afar, and holding the

unwarlike plectrum, Pettalus says, laughing, “Go sing the rest to the

Stygian ghosts,” and fixes the point of the sword in his left temple. He

falls, and with his dying fingers he touches once again the strings of

the lyre; and in his fall he plays a mournful dirge.[12] The fierce

Lycormas does not suffer him to fall unpunished; and tearing away a

massive bar from the doorpost on the right, he dashes it against the

bones of the middle of the neck {of Pettalus}; struck, he falls to the

ground, just like a slaughtered bullock.

The Cinyphian[13] Pelates, too, was trying to tear away the oaken bar of

the doorpost on the left; as he was trying, his right hand was fastened

{thereto} by the spear of Corythus, the son of Marmarus, and it stood

riveted to the wood. {Thus} riveted, Abas pierced his side; he did not

fall, however, but dying, hung from the post, which still held fast his

hand. Melaneus, too, was slain, who had followed the camp of Perseus,

and Dorylas, very rich in Nasamonian land.[14] Dorylas, rich in land,

than whom no one possessed it of wider extent, or received {thence} so

many heaps of corn. The hurled steel stood fixed obliquely in his groin;

the hurt was mortal. When the Bactrian[15] Halcyoneus, the author of the

wound, beheld him sobbing forth his soul, and rolling his eyes, he said,

“Take {for thine own} this {spot} of earth which thou dost press, out of

so many fields,” and he left his lifeless body. The descendant of Abas,

as his avenger, hurls against {Halcyoneus} the spear torn from his wound

{yet} warm, which, received in the middle of the nostrils, pierced

through his neck, and projected on both sides. And while fortune is

aiding his hand, he slays, with different wounds, Clytius and Clanis,

born of one mother. For an ashen spear poised with a strong arm is

driven through both the thighs of Clytius; with his mouth does Clanis

bite the javelin. Celadon, the Mendesian,[16] falls, too; Astreus falls,

born of a mother of Palestine, {but} of an uncertain father. Æthion,

too, once sagacious at foreseeing things to come, {but} now deceived[17]

by a false omen; and Thoactes, the armor-bearer of the king, and

Agyrtes, infamous for slaying his father.

More work still remains, than what is {already} done; for it is the

intention of all to overwhelm one. The conspiring troops fight on all

sides, for a cause that attacks both merit and good faith. The one side,

the father-in-law, attached in vain, and the new-made wife, together

with her mother, encourage; and {these} fill the halls with their

shrieks. But the din of arms, and the groans of those that fall,

prevail; and for once, Bellona[18] is deluging the household Gods

polluted with plenteous blood, and is kindling the combat anew. Phineus,

and a thousand that follow Phineus, surround Perseus {alone}; darts are

flying thicker than the hail of winter, on both his sides, past his

eyes, and past his ears. On this, he places his shoulders against the

stone of a large pillar, and, having his back secure, and facing the

adverse throng, he withstands their attack. Chaonian[19] Molpeus presses

on the left, Nabathæan Ethemon on the right. As a tiger, urged on by

hunger, when it hears the lowings of two herds, in different valleys,

knows not on which side in preference to rush out, and {yet} is eager to

rush out on both; so Perseus, being in doubt whether to bear onward to

the right or to the left, repulses Molpeus by a wound in the leg, which

he runs through, and is contented with his flight. Nor, indeed, does

Ethemon give him time, but fiercely attacks him; and, desirous to

inflict a wound deep in his neck, he breaks his sword, wielded with

incautious force; and against the extremity of a column which he has

struck, the blade flies to pieces, and sticks in the throat of its

owner; yet that blow has not power sufficient to {effect} his death.

Perseus stabs him with his Cyllenian[20] falchion, trembling, and vainly

extending his unarmed hands.

But when Perseus saw his valor {likely} to yield to such numbers, he

said, “Since you yourselves force me to do it, I will seek assistance

from an enemy: turn away your faces, if any of my friends are here;” and

{then} he produced the head of the Gorgon. “{Go}, seek some one else,”

said Thescelus, “for thy miracles to affect;” and, as he was preparing

to hurl his deadly javelin with his hand, he stood fast in that posture,

a statue of marble. Ampyx, being next him, made a pass with his sword at

the breast of Lyncidas, full of daring spirit, and, while making it, his

right hand became stiff, moving neither to one side nor the other. But

Nileus, who had falsely boasted that he was begotten by the

seven-mouthed Nile, and who had engraved on his shield its seven

channels, partly in silver, partly in gold, said, “Behold, Perseus, the

origin of my race; thou shalt carry to the silent shades a great

consolation for thy death, that thou wast killed by one so great.” The

last part of his address was suppressed in the midst of the utterance;

and you would think his half-open mouth was attempting to speak, but it

gave no passage for his words. Eryx rebuked them,[21] and said, “Ye are

benumbed by the cowardice of your minds, not by the locks of the Gorgon;

rush on with me, and strike to the ground {this} youth that wields his

magic arms.” He was about to rush on, {when} the earth arrested his

steps, and he remained an immovable stone, and an armed statue. But all

these met with the punishment they had deserved: there was one man,

however, Aconteus {by name}, a soldier of Perseus, for whom while he was

fighting, on beholding the Gorgon, he grew hard with stone rising upon

him. Astyages, thinking him still alive, struck him with his long sword;

the sword resounded with a shrill ringing. While Astyages was in

amazement, he took on himself the same nature: and the look of one in

surprise remained on his marble features. It is a tedious task to

recount the names of the men of the lower rank. Two hundred bodies were

{yet} remaining for the fight: two hundred bodies, on beholding the

Gorgon, grew stiff.

Now at length Phineus repents of this unjust warfare. But what can he

do? He sees statues varying in form, and he recognizes his friends, and

demands help of them each, called by name; and not {yet} persuaded, he

touches the bodies next him; they are marble. He turns away {his eyes};

and thus suppliant, and stretching forth his hands, that confessed {his

fault}, and his arms obliquely extended, he says, “Perseus, thou hast

conquered; remove the direful monster, and take away that stone-making

face of thy Medusa, whatever she may be; take it away, I pray. It is not

hatred, or the desire of a kingdom, that has urged me to war: for a wife

I wielded arms. Thy cause was the better in point of merit, mine in

point of time. I am not sorry to yield. Grant me nothing, most valiant

man, beyond this life; the rest be thine.” Upon his saying such things,

and not daring to look upon him, whom he is entreating with his voice,

{Perseus} says, “What am I able to give thee, most cowardly Phineus,

and, a great boon to a craven, that will I give; lay aside thy fears;

thou shalt be hurt by no weapon. Moreover, I will give thee a monument

to last forever, and in the house of my father-in-law thou shalt always

be seen, that my wife may comfort herself with the form of her

betrothed.” {Thus} he said, and he turned the daughter of Phorcys to

that side, towards which Phineus had turned himself with trembling face.

Then, even as he endeavored to turn away his eyes, his neck grew stiff,

and the moisture of his eyes hardened in stone. But yet his timid

features, and his suppliant countenance, and his hands hanging down, and

his guilty attitude, still remained.

The descendant of Abas, together with his wife, enters the walls of his

native city; and as the defender and avenger of his innocent mother, he

attacks Prœtus.[22] For, his brother being expelled by force of arms,

Prœtus had taken possession of the citadel of Acrisius; but neither by

the help of arms, nor the citadel which he had unjustly seized, did he

prevail against the stern eyes of the snake-bearing monster.

[Footnote 1: _Phineus._--Ver. 8. He was the brother of Cepheus, to

whom Andromeda had been betrothed. There was another person of the

same name, who entertained the Argonauts, and who is also

mentioned in the Metamorphoses.]

[Footnote 2: _In the cushion._--Ver. 34. This was probably the

mattress or covering of the couch on which the ancients reclined

during meals. It was frequently stuffed with wool; but among the

poorer classes, with straw and dried weeds.]

[Footnote 3: _An altar._--Ver. 36. This was either the altar

devoted to the worship of the Penates; or, more probably, perhaps,

in this instance, that erected for sacrifice to the Gods on the

occasion of the nuptials of Perseus and Andromeda.]

[Footnote 4: _Gods of hospitality._--Ver. 45. Jupiter was

especially considered to be the avenger of a violation of the laws

of hospitality.]

[Footnote 5: _Athis by name._--Ver. 47. Athis, or Atys, is here

described as of Indian birth, to distinguish him from the Phrygian

youth of the same name, beloved by Cybele, whose story is told by

Ovid in the Fasti.]

[Footnote 6: _His falchion._--Ver. 69. The “Harpe” was a short,

crooked sword, or falchion: such as we call a “scimitar.”]

[Footnote 7: _Syene._--Ver. 74. This was a city on the confines of

Æthiopia, bordering upon Egypt. Ovid tells us in the Pontic

Epistles (Book i. Ep. 5, l. 79), that “there, at the time of the

summer solstice, bodies as they stand, have no shadow.”]

[Footnote 8: _A huge bowl._--Ver. 82. Clarke calls “ingentem

cratera” “a swingeing bowl.”]

[Footnote 9: _Sperchius._--Ver. 86. This was probably a person,

and not the river of Thessaly, flowing into the Malian Gulf.]

[Footnote 10: _Has declined the warfare._--Ver. 91. This is an

illustration of the danger of neutrality, when the necessity of

the times requires a man to adopt the side which he deems to be in

the right.]

[Footnote 11: _Clings to the altars._--Ver. 103. In cases of

extreme danger, it was usual to fly to the temples of the Deities,

and to take refuge behind the altar or statue of the God, and even

to cling to it, if necessity required.]

[Footnote 12: _A mournful dirge._--Ver. 118. Clarke translates

‘Casuque canit miserabile carmen;’ ‘and in his fall plays but a

dismal ditty.’]

[Footnote 13: _Cinyphian._--Ver. 124. Cinyps, or Cinyphus, was the

name of a river situate in the north of Africa.]

[Footnote 14: _Nasamonian land._--Ver. 129. The Nasamones were a

people of Libya, near the Syrtes, or quicksands, who subsisted by

plundering the numerous wrecks on their coasts.]

[Footnote 15: _Bactrian._--Ver. 135. Bactris was the chief city of

Bactria, a region bordering on the western confines of India.]

[Footnote 16: _The Mendesian._--Ver. 144. Mendes was a city of

Egypt, near the mouth of the Nile, where Pan was worshipped,

according to Pliny. Celadon was a native of either this place, or

of the city of Myndes, in Syria.]

[Footnote 17: _Now deceived._--Ver. 147. Because he had not

foreseen his own approaching fate.]

[Footnote 18: _Bellona._--Ver. 155. She was the sister of Mars,

and was the Goddess of War.]

[Footnote 19: _Chaonian._--Ver. 163. Chaonia was a mountainous

part of Epirus, so called from Chaon, who was accidentally killed,

while hunting, by Helenus, the son of Priam. It has been, however,

suggested that the reading ought to be ‘Choanius;’ as the Choanii

were a people bordering on Arabia; and very justly, for how should

the Chaonians and Nabathæans, or Epirotes, and Arabians become

united in the same sentence, as meeting in a region so distant as

Æthiopia?]

[Footnote 20: _Cyllenian._--Ver. 176. His falchion had been given

to him by Mercury, who was born on Mount Cyllene, in Arcadia.]

[Footnote 21: _Eryx rebuked them._--Ver. 195. ‘Increpat hos Eryx’

is translated by Clarke, ‘Eryx rattles these blades.’]

[Footnote 22: _Prœtus._--Ver. 238. He was the brother of Acrisius,

the grandfather of Perseus.]

EXPLANATION.

The scene of this story is supposed by some to have been in Æthiopia,

but it is more probably on the coast of Africa. Josephus and Strabo

assert that this event happened near the city of Joppa, or Jaffa:

indeed, Josephus says that the marks of the chains with which

Andromeda was fastened, were remaining on the rock in his time.

Pomponius Mela says, that Cepheus, the father of Andromeda, was king

of Joppa, and that the memory of that prince and of his brother

Phineus was honored there with religious services. He says, too, that

the inhabitants used to show the bones of the monster which was to

have devoured Andromeda. Pliny tells us the same, and that Scaurus

carried these bones with him to Rome. He calls the monster ‘a

Goddess,’ ‘Dea Cete.’ Vossius believes that he means the God Dagon,

worshipped among the Syrians under the figure of a fish, or

sea-monster. Some authors have suggested that the story of the

creature which was to have devoured Andromeda, was a confused version

of that of the prophet Jonah.

The alleged power of Perseus, to turn his enemies into stone, was

probably, a metaphorical mode of describing his heroism, and the

terror which everywhere followed the fame of his victory over the

Gorgons. This probably caused such consternation, that it was reported

that he petrified his enemies by showing them the head of Medusa.

Bochart supposes that the rocky nature of the island of Seriphus,

where Polydectes reigned, was the ground of the various stories of the

alleged metamorphoses into stone, effected by means of the Gorgon’s

head.

FABLE II. [V.243-340]

Polydectes continues his hatred against Perseus, and treats his

victories and triumphs over Medusa as mere fictions, on which Perseus

turns him into stone. Minerva leaves her brother, and goes to Mount

Helicon to visit the Muses, who show the Goddess the beauties of their

habitation, and entertain her with their adventure at the court of

Pyreneus, and the death of that prince. They also repeat to her the

song of the Pierides, who challenged them to sing.

Yet, O Polydectes,[23] the ruler of little Seriphus, neither the valor

of the youth proved by so many toils, nor his sorrows have softened

thee; but thou obstinately dost exert an inexorable hatred, nor is there

any limit to thy unjust resentment. Thou also detractest from his

praises, and dost allege that the death of Medusa is {but} a fiction.

“We will give thee a proof of the truth,” says Perseus; “have a regard

for your eyes, {all besides};” and he makes the face of the king

{become} stone, without blood, by means of the face of Medusa.

Hitherto Tritonia had presented herself as a companion to her

brother,[24] begotten in the golden shower. Now, enwrapped in an

encircling cloud, she abandons Seriphus, Cythnus and Gyarus[25] being

left on the right. And where the way seems the shortest over the sea,

she makes for Thebes and Helicon, frequented by the virgin {Muses};

having reached which mountain she stops, and thus addresses the learned

sisters: “The fame of the new fountain[26] has reached my ears, which

the hard hoof of the winged steed sprung from the blood of Medusa has

opened. That is the cause of my coming. I wished to see this wondrous

prodigy; I saw him spring from the blood of his mother.” Urania[27]

replies, “Whatever, Goddess, is the cause of thy visiting these abodes,

thou art most acceptable to our feelings. However, the report is true,

and Pegasus is the originator of this spring;” and {then} she conducts

Pallas to the sacred streams. She, long admiring the waters produced by

the stroke of his foot, looks around upon the groves of the ancient

wood, and the caves and the grass studded with flowers innumerable; and

she pronounces the Mnemonian[28] maids happy both in their pursuits and

in their retreat; when one of the sisters {thus} addresses her:

“O Tritonia, thou who wouldst have come to make one of our number, had

not thy valor inclined thee to greater deeds, thou sayest the truth, and

with justice thou dost approve both our pursuits and our retreat; and if

we are but safe, happy do we reckon our lot. But (to such a degree is no

denial borne by villany) all things affright our virgin minds, and the

dreadful Pyreneus is placed before our eyes; and not yet have I wholly

recovered my presence of mind. He, in his insolence, had taken the

Daulian and Phocean[29] land with his Thracian troops, and unjustly held

the government. We were making for the temple of Parnassus; he beheld us

going, and adoring our Divinities[30] in a feigned worship he said (for

he had recognized us), ‘O Mnemonian maids, stop, and do not scruple,

I pray, under my roof to avoid the bad weather and the showers (for it

was raining); oft have the Gods above entered more humble cottages.’

Moved by his invitation and the weather, we assented to the man, and

entered the front part of his house. The rain had {now} ceased, and the

South Wind {now} subdued by the North, the black clouds were flying from

the cleared sky. It was our wish to depart. Pyreneus closed his house,

and prepared for violence, which we escaped by taking wing. He himself

stood aloft on the top {of his abode}, as though about to follow us, and

said ‘Wherever there is a way for you, by the same road there will be

{one} for me.’ And then, in his insanity, he threw himself from the

height of the summit of the tower, and fell upon his face, and with the

bones of his skull thus broken, he struck the ground stained with his

accursed blood.”

{Thus} spoke the Muse. Wings resounded through the air, and a voice of

some saluting them[31] came from the lofty boughs. The daughter of

Jupiter looked up, and asked whence tongues that speak so distinctly

made that noise, and thought that a human being had spoken. They were

birds; and magpies that imitate everything, lamenting their fate, they

stood perched on the boughs, nine in number. As the Goddess wondered,

thus did the Goddess {Urania} commence: “Lately, too, did these being

overcome in a dispute, increase the number of the birds. Pierus, rich in

the lands of Pella,[32] begot them; the Pæonian[33] Evippe[34] was their

mother. Nine times did she invoke the powerful Lucina, being nine times

in labor. This set of foolish sisters were proud of their number, and

came hither through so many cities of Hæmonia, {and} through so many of

Achaia,[35] and engaged in a contest in words such as these: “Cease

imposing upon the vulgar with your empty melody. If you have any

confidence {in your skill}, ye Thespian Goddesses, contend with us; we

will not be outdone in voice or skill; and we are as many in number.

Either, if vanquished, withdraw from the spring formed by the steed of

Medusa, and the Hyantean Aganippe,[36] or we will retire from the

Emathian plains, as far as the snowy Pæonians. Let the Nymphs decide the

contest.” It was, indeed, disgraceful to engage, but to yield seemed

{even} more disgraceful. The Nymphs that are chosen swear by the rivers,

and they sit on seats made out of the natural rock. Then, without

casting lots, she who had been the first to propose the contest, sings

the wars of the Gods above, and gives the Giants honor not their due,

and detracts from the actions of the great Divinities; and {sings} how

that Typhœus, sent forth from the lowest realms of the earth, had struck

terror into the inhabitants of Heaven; and {how} they had all turned

their backs in flight, until the land of Egypt had received them in

their weariness, and the Nile, divided into its seven mouths. She tells,

how that Typhœus had come there, too, and the Gods above had concealed

themselves under assumed shapes; and ‘Jupiter,’ she says, ‘becomes the

leader of the flock, whence, even at the present day, the Libyan Ammon

is figured with horns. {Apollo}, the Delian {God}, lies concealed as a

crow, the son of Semele as a he-goat, the sister of Phœbus as a cat,

{Juno}, the daughter of Saturn, as a snow-white cow, Venus as a

fish,[37] {Mercury}, the Cyllenian {God}, beneath the wings of an

Ibis.’[38]

“Thus far she had exerted her noisy mouth to {the sound of} the lyre; we

of Aonia[39] were {then} called upon; but perhaps thou hast not the

leisure, nor the time to lend an ear to our strains.” Pallas says, “Do

not hesitate, and repeat your song to me in its order;” and she takes

her seat under the pleasant shade of the grove. The Muse {then} tells

her story. “We assigned the management of the contest to one {of our

number}. Calliope rises, and, having her long hair gathered up with ivy,

tunes with her thumb the sounding chords; and {then} sings these lines

in concert with the strings when struck.”

[Footnote 23: _Polydectes._--Ver. 242. Polydectes was king of the

little island of Seriphus, one of the Cyclades. His brother Dictys

had removed Perseus, with his mother Danaë, to the kingdom of

Polydectes. The latter became smitten with love for Danaë, though

he was about to marry Hippodamia. On this occasion he exacted a

promise from Perseus, of the head of the Gorgon Medusa. When

Perseus returned victorious, he found that his mother, with her

protector Dictys, had taken refuge at the altars of the Deities,

against the violence of Polydectes; on which Perseus changed him

into stone. The story of Perseus afforded abundant materials to

the ancient poets. Æschylus wrote a Tragedy called Polydectes,

Sophocles one called Danaë, while Euripides composed two, called

respectively Danaë and Dictys. Pherecydes also wrote on this

subject, and his work seems to have been a text book for

succeeding poets. Polygnotus painted the return of Perseus with

the head of Medusa, to the island of Seriphus.]

[Footnote 24: _To her brother._--Ver. 250. As both Tritonia, or

Minerva, and Perseus had Jupiter for their father.]

[Footnote 25: _Gyarus._--Ver. 252. Cythnus and Gyarus were two

islands of the Cyclades.]

[Footnote 26: _The new fountain._--Ver. 256. This was Helicon,

which was produced by a blow from the hoof of Pegasus.]

[Footnote 27: _Urania._--Ver. 260. One of the Muses, who presided

over Astronomy.]

[Footnote 28: _Mnemonian._--Ver. 268. The Muses are called

‘Mnemonides,’ from the Greek word μνήμων ‘remembering,’ or

‘mindful,’ because they were said to be the daughters, by Jupiter,

of Mnemosyne, or Memory.]

[Footnote 29: _Phocean._--Ver. 276. Daulis was a city of Phocis;

a district between Bœotia and Ætolia, in which the city of Delphi

and Mount Parnassus were situate.]

[Footnote 30: _Our Divinities._--Ver. 279. ‘Nostra veneratus

numina,’ is translated by Clarke, ‘and worshipping our

Goddessships.’]

[Footnote 31: _Some saluting them._--Ver. 295. That is, crying out

χαῖρε, χαῖρε, the usual salutation among the Greeks, equivalent to

our ‘How d’ye do?’ From two lines of Persius, it seems to have

been a common thing to teach parrots and magpies to repeat these

words.]

[Footnote 32: _Lands of Pella._--Ver. 302. Pella was a city of

Macedonia, in that part of it which was called Emathia. It was

famed for being the birthplace of Philip, and Alexander the

Great.]

[Footnote 33: _Pæonian._--Ver. 303. Pæonia was a mountainous

region of Macedonia, adjacent to Emathia.]

[Footnote 34: _Evippe._--Ver. 303. Evippe was the wife of Pierus,

and the mother of the Pierides.]

[Footnote 35: _Achaia._--Ver. 306. The Achaia here mentioned was

the Hæmonian, or Thessalian Achaia. The other parts of Thessaly

were Phthiotis and Pelasgiotis.]

[Footnote 36: _Aganippe._--Ver. 312. Aganippe was the name of a

fountain in Bœotia, near Helicon, sacred to the Muses. It is

called Hyantean, from the ancient name of the inhabitants of the

country.]

[Footnote 37: _Venus as a fish._--Ver. 331. The story of the

transformation of Venus into a fish, to escape the fury of the

Giants, is told, at length, in the second Book of the Fasti.]

[Footnote 38: _Wings of an Ibis._--Ver. 331. The Ibis was a bird

of Egypt, much resembling a crane, or stork. It was said to be of

peculiarly unclean habits, and to subsist upon serpents.]

[Footnote 39: _We of Aonia._--Ver. 333. The Muses obtained the

name of Aonides from Aonia, a mountainous district of Bœotia.]

EXPLANATION.

According to Plutarch, the adventure of the Muses with Pyreneus, and

of their asking wings of the Gods to save themselves, is a metaphor,

which shows that he, when reigning in Phocis, was no friend to

learning. As he had caused all the institutions in which it was taught

to be destroyed, it was currently reported, that he had offered

violence to the Muses, and that he lost his life in pursuing them.

Ovid is the only writer that mentions him by name.

The challenge given by the Pierides to the Muses is not mentioned by

any writer before the time of Ovid. By way of explaining it, it is

said, that Pierus was a very bad poet, whose works were full of

stories injurious to the credit of the Gods. Hence, in time, it became

circulated, that his daughters, otherwise his works, were changed into

magpies, thereby meaning that they were full of idle narratives,

tiresome and unmeaning. It is not improbable that the story of

Typhœus, who forces the Gods to conceal themselves in Egypt, under the

forms of various animals, was a poem which Pierus composed on the war

of the Gods with the Giants.

FABLE III. [V.341-384]

One of the Muses repeats to Minerva the song of Calliope, in answer to

the Pierides; in which she describes the defeat of the Giant Typhœus,

and Pluto viewing the mountains of Sicily, where Venus persuades her

son Cupid to pierce his heart with one of his arrows.

“Ceres was the first to turn up the clods with the crooked plough; she

first gave corn and wholesome food to the earth; she first gave laws;

everything is the gift of Ceres. She is to be sung by me; I only wish

that I could utter verses worthy of the Goddess, {for} doubtless she is

a Goddess worthy of my song. The vast island of Trinacria[40] is heaped

up on the limbs of the Giant, and keeps down Typhœus, that dared to hope

for the abodes of Heaven, placed beneath its heavy mass. He, indeed,

struggles, and attempts often to rise, but his right hand is placed

beneath the Ausonian Pelorus,[41] his left under thee, Pachynus;[42] his

legs are pressed down by Lilybœum;[43] Ætna bears down his head; under

it Typhœus, on his back, casts forth sand, and vomits flame from his

raging mouth; often does he struggle to throw off the load of earth, and

to roll away cities and huge mountains from his body. Then does the

earth tremble, and the King of the shades himself is in dread, lest it

may open, and the ground be parted with a wide chasm, and, the day being

let in, may affright the trembling ghosts.

“Fearing this ruin, the Ruler had gone out from his dark abode; and,

carried in his chariot by black horses, he cautiously surveyed the

foundations of the Sicilian land. After it was sufficiently ascertained

that no place was insecure, and fear was laid aside, Erycina,[44]

sitting down upon her mountain, saw him wandering; and, embracing her

winged son, she said, Cupid, my son, my arms, my hands, and my might,

take up those darts by which thou conquerest all, and direct the swift

arrows against the breast of the God, to whom fell the last lot of the

triple kingdom.[45] Thou subduest the Gods above, and Jupiter himself;

thou {subduest} the conquered Deities of the deep, and him who rules

over the Deities of the deep. Why is Tartarus exempt? Why dost thou not

extend the Empire of thy mother and thine own? A third part of the world

is {now} at stake. And yet so great power is despised even in our own

heaven, and, together with myself, the influence of Love becomes but a

trifling matter. Dost thou not see how that Pallas, and Diana, who

throws the javelin, have renounced me? The daughter of Ceres, too, will

be a virgin, if we shall permit it, for she inclines to similar hopes.

But do thou join the Goddess to her uncle, if I have any interest with

thee in favor of our joint sway.

“Venus {thus} spoke. He opened his quiver, and, by the direction of his

mother, set apart one out of his thousand arrows; but one, than which

there is not any more sharp or less unerring, or which is more true to

the bow. And he bent the flexible horn, by pressing his knee against it,

and struck Pluto in the breast with the barbed arrow.”

[Footnote 40: _Trinacria._--Ver. 347. Sicily was called Trinacris,

or Trinacria, from its three corners or promontories, which are

here named by the Poet.]

[Footnote 41: _Pelorus._--Ver. 350. This cape, or promontory, now

called Capo di Faro, is on the east of Sicily, looking towards

Italy, whence its present epithet, ‘Ausonian.’ It was so named

from Pelorus, the pilot of Hannibal, who, suspecting him of

treachery, had put him to death, and buried him on that spot.]

[Footnote 42: _Pachynus._--Ver. 351. This Cape, now Capo Passaro,

looks towards Greece, from the south of Sicily.]

[Footnote 43: _Lilybæum._--Ver. 351. Now called Capo Marsala. It

is on the west of Sicily, looking towards the African coast.]

[Footnote 44: _Erycina._--Ver. 363. Venus is so called from Eryx,

the mountain of Sicily, on which her son Eryx, one of the early

Sicilian kings, erected a magnificent temple in her honor.]

[Footnote 45: _The triple kingdom._--Ver. 368. In the partition of

the dominion of the universe the heavens fell to the lot of

Jupiter, the seas to that of Neptune; while the infernal regions,

or, as some say, the earth, were awarded to Pluto.]

EXPLANATION.

The ancients frequently accounted for natural phænomena on fabulous

grounds: and whatever they found difficult to explain, from their

ignorance of the principles of natural philosophy, they immediately

attributed to the agency of a supernatural cause. Ætna was often seen

to emit flames, and the earth was subjected to violent shocks from the

forces of its internal fires when struggling for a vent. Instead of

looking for the source of these eruptions in the sulphur and

bituminous matter in which the mountain abounds, they fabled, that the

Gods, having vanquished the Giant Typhœus, or, according to some

authors, Enceladus, threw Mount Ætna on his body; and that the

attempts he made to free himself from the superincumbent weight were

the cause of those fires and earthquakes.

FABLE IV. [V.385-461]

Pluto surprises Proserpina in the fields of Henna, and carries her

away by force. The Nymph Cyane endeavors, in vain, to stop him in his

passage, and through grief and anguish, dissolves into a fountain.

Ceres goes everywhere in search of her daughter, and, in her journey,

turns the boy Stellio into a newt.

“Not far from the walls of Henna[46] there is a lake of deep water,

Pergus by name; Cayster does not hear more songs of swans, in his

running streams, than that. A wood skirts the lake, surrounding it on

every side, and with its foliage, as though with an awning, keeps out

the rays of the sun. The boughs produce a coolness, the moist ground

flowers of Tyrian hue. {There} the spring is perpetual. In this grove,

while Proserpina is amusing herself, and is plucking either violets or

white lilies, and while, with childlike eagerness, she is filling her

baskets and her bosom, and is striving to outdo {her companions} of the

same age in gathering, almost at the same instant she is beheld,

beloved, and seized by Pluto;[47] in such great haste is love. The

Goddess, affrighted, with lamenting lips calls both her mother and her

companions,[48] but more frequently her mother;[49] and as she has torn

her garment from the upper edge, the collected flowers fall from her

loosened robes. So great, too, is the innocence of her childish years,

this loss excites the maiden’s grief as well. The ravisher drives on his

chariot, and encourages his horses, called, each by his name, along

whose necks and manes he shakes the reins, dyed with swarthy rust. He is

borne through deep lakes, and the pools of the Palici,[50] smelling

strong of sulphur, {and} boiling fresh from out of the burst earth; and

where the Bacchiadæ,[51] a race sprung from Corinth, with its two

seas,[52] built a city[53] between unequal harbors.

“There is a stream in the middle, between Cyane and the Pisæan Arethusa,

which is confined within itself, being enclosed by mountain ridges at a

short distance {from each other}. Here was Cyane,[54] the most

celebrated among the Sicilian Nymphs, from whose name the pool also was

called, who stood up from out of the midst of the water, as far as the

higher part of her stomach, and recognized the God, and said, ‘No

further shall you go. Thou mayst not be the son-in-law of Ceres against

her will. {The girl} should have been asked {of her mother}, not carried

away. But if I may be allowed to compare little matters with great ones,

Anapis[55] also loved me. Yet I married him, courted, and not frightened

{into it}, like her.’ She {thus} said, and stretching her arms on

different sides, she stood in his way. The son of Saturn no longer

restrained his rage; and encouraging his terrible steeds, he threw his

royal sceptre, hurled with a strong arm, into the lowest depths of the

stream. The earth, {thus} struck, made a way down to Tartarus, and

received the descending chariot in the middle of the yawning space. But

Cyane, lamenting both the ravished Goddess, and the slighted privileges

of her spring, carries in her silent mind an inconsolable wound, and is

entirely dissolved into tears, and melts away into those waters, of

which she had been but lately the great guardian Divinity. You might see

her limbs soften, her bones become subjected to bending, her nails lay

aside their hardness: each, too, of the smaller extremities of the whole

of her body melts away; both her azure hair, her fingers, her legs, and

her feet; for easy is the change of those small members into a cold

stream. After that, her back, her shoulders, her side, and her breast

dissolve, vanishing into thin rivulets. Lastly, pure water, instead of

live blood, enters her corrupted veins, and nothing remains which you

can grasp {in your hand}.

“In the mean time, throughout all lands and in every sea, the daughter

is sought in vain by her anxious mother. Aurora, coming with her ruddy

locks does not behold her taking any rest, neither does Hesperus. She,

with her two hands, sets light to some pines at the flaming Ætna, and

giving herself no rest, bears them through the frosty darkness. Again,

when the genial day has dulled the light of the stars, she seeks her

daughter from the rising of the sun to the setting thereof. Fatigued by

the labor, she has {now} contracted thirst, and no streams have washed

her mouth, when by chance she beholds a cottage covered with thatch, and

knocks at its humble door, upon which an old woman[56] comes out and

sees the Goddess, and gives her, asking for water, a sweet drink which

she has lately distilled[57] from parched pearled barley. While she is

drinking it {thus} presented, a boy[58] of impudent countenance and

bold, stands before the Goddess, and laughs, and calls her greedy. She

is offended; and a part being not yet quaffed, the Goddess sprinkles

him, as he is {thus} talking, with the barley mixed with the liquor.

“His face contracts the stains, and he bears legs where just now he was

bearing arms; a tail is added to his changed limbs; and he is contracted

into a diminutive form, that no great power of doing injury may exist;

his size is less than {that of} a small lizard. He flies from the old

woman, astounded and weeping, and trying to touch the monstrosity; and

he seeks a lurking place, and has a name suited to his color, having his

body speckled with various spots.”

[Footnote 46: _Henna._--Ver. 385. Henna, or Enna, was a city so

exactly situated in the middle of Sicily that it was called the

navel of that island. The worship of Ceres there was so highly

esteemed, that ancient writers remarked, that you might easily

take the whole place for one vast temple of that Goddess, and all

the inhabitants for her priests. Proserpine is said by many

authors, besides Ovid, to have been carried away by Pluto in the

vicinity of Henna; though some writers say that it took place in

Attica, and others again in Asia, while the Hymn of Orpheus

mentions the western coast of Spain. Cicero describes this spot in

his Oration against Verres: his words are, ‘It is said that

Libera, who is the Deity that we call Proserpine, was carried away

from the Grove of Enna. Enna, where these events took place to

which I now refer, is in a lofty and exposed situation; but on the

summit the ground presents a level surface, and there are springs

of everflowing water. The spot is entirely cut off and separated

from all [ordinary] means of approach. Around it are many lakes

and groves, and flowers in bloom at all seasons of the year; so

that the very spot seems to portray the rape of the damsel, with

which story, from our very infancy, we have been familiar. Close

by, there is a cavern with its face towards the north, of an

immense depth, from which they say that father Pluto, in his

chariot, suddenly emerged, and carrying off the maiden, bore her

away from that spot, and then, not far from Syracuse, descended

into the earth, from which place a lake suddenly arose; where, at

the present day, the inhabitants of Syracuse celebrate a yearly

festival.’]

[Footnote 47: _Seized by Pluto._--Ver. 395. Pluto is here called

‘Dis.’ This name was given to him as the God of the Earth, from

the bowels of which riches are dug up.]

[Footnote 48: _Her companions._--Ver. 397. Pausanias, in his

Messeniaca, has preserved the names of the companions of Ceres,

having copied them from the works of Homer.]

[Footnote 49: _Her mother._--Ver. 397. Homer, in his poem on the

subject, represents that Ceres heard the cries of her daughter,

when calling upon her mother for assistance. Ovid recounts this

tale much more at length in the fourth Book of the Fasti.]

[Footnote 50: _The Palici._--Ver. 406. The Palici were two

brothers, sons of Jupiter and the Nymph Thalea, and, according to

some, received their name from the Greek words πάλιν ἱκέσθαι, ‘to

come again [to life].’ Their mother, when pregnant, prayed the

earth to open, and to hide her from the vengeful wrath of Juno.

This was done; and when they had arrived at maturity, the Palici

burst from the ground in the island of Sicily. They were Deities

much venerated there, but their worship did not extend to any

other countries. We learn from Macrobius that the natives of

Sicily pointed out two small lakes, from which the brothers were

said to have emerged, and that the veneration attached to them was

such, that by their means they decided disputes, as they imagined

that perjurers would meet their death in these waters, while the

guiltless would be able to come forth from them unharmed. They

were fetid, sulphureous pools of water, probably affected by the

volcanic action of Mount Ætna.]

[Footnote 51: _The Bacchiadæ._--Ver. 407. Archias, one of the race

of the Bacchiadæ, a powerful Corinthian family, being expelled

from Corinth, was said to have founded Syracuse, the capital of

Sicily. The family sprang either from Bacchius, a son of

Dionysus, or Bacchus, or from the fifth king of Corinth, who was

named Bacchis. The family was expelled from Corinth by Cypselus,

either on account of their luxury and extravagant mode of life, or

because they were supposed to aim at the sovereignty.]

[Footnote 52: _With its two seas._--Ver. 407. Corinth is called

‘Bimaris’ by the Latin poets, from its having the Ægean sea on one

side of it, and the Ionian sea on the other.]

[Footnote 53: _Built a city._--Ver. 408. Syracuse had two harbors,

one of which was much larger than the other.]

[Footnote 54: _Cyane._--Ver. 412. According to Claudian, Cyane was

one of the companions of Proserpine, when she was carried off by

Pluto.]

[Footnote 55: _Anapis._--Ver. 417. This was a river of Sicily,

which, mingling with the waters of the fountain Cyane, falls into

the sea at Syracuse, opposite to the island of Ortygia. This

island, in which the fountain of Arethusa was situate, was

separated from the isle of Sicily by a narrow strait of the sea,

and communicating with the city of Syracuse by a bridge, was

considered as part of it.]

[Footnote 56: _An old woman._--Ver. 449. Arnobius calls this old

woman here mentioned by the name of Baubo. Nicander, in his

Theriaca, calls her Metaneira. Antoninus Liberalis calls her

Misma, and Ovid, in the fourth Book of the Fasti, Melanina.]

[Footnote 57: _Lately distilled._--Ver. 450. Orpheus, in his Hymn,

calls the drink given by the old woman to Ceres κυκεὼν. According

to Arnobius, it was a mixed liquor, called by the Romans ‘cinnus;’

made of parched pearled barley, honey, and wine, with flowers and

various herbs floating in it. Antoninus Liberalis says, that Ceres

drank it off, ἀθρόως, ‘at one draught.’]

[Footnote 58: _A boy._--Ver. 451. According to Nicander, the boy

was the son of the old woman. If so, the Goddess made her but a

poor return for her hospitality.]

EXPLANATION.

The story of the rape of Proserpine has caused much inquiry among

writers, both ancient and modern, as to the facts on which it was

founded. Some have grounded it on principles of natural philosophy;

while others have supposed it to contain some portion of ancient

history, defaced and blemished in lapse of time.

The antiquarian Pezeron is of opinion, that in the partition of the

world among the Titan kings, Pluto had the west for his share; and

that he carried a colony to the further end of Spain, where he caused

the gold and silver mines of that region to be worked. The situation

of his kingdom, which lay very low, comparatively with Greece, and

which the ancients believed to be covered with eternal darkness, gave

rise to the fable, that Pluto had got Hell for his share; and this

notion was much encouraged by the subterranean nature of the mines

which he caused to be worked. He thinks that the river Tartarus, so

famed in the realms of Pluto, was no other than the Tartessa, or

Guadalquivir of the present day, which runs through the centre of

Spain. Lethe, too, he thinks to have been the Guadalaviar, in the same

country. Pluto, he suggests, had heard of the beauty of Proserpine,

the daughter of Ceres, queen of Sicily, and carried her thence, which

gave rise to the tradition that she had been carried to the Infernal

Regions.

Le Clerc, on the other hand, thinks that it was not Pluto that carried

away Proserpine, but Aidoneus, king of Epirus, or Orcus king of the

Molossians. Aidoneus is supposed to have wrought mines in his kingdom,

and, as the entrance into it was over a river called Acheron, that

prince has often been confounded with Pluto; Epirus too, which was

situate very low, may have been figuratively described as the Infernal

Regions; for which reason, the journeys of Theseus and Hercules into

Epirus may have been spoken of as descents into the Stygian abodes.

Le Clerc supposes that Ceres was reigning in Sicily at the time when

Aidoneus was king of Epirus, and that she took great care to instruct

her subjects in the art of tilling the ground and sowing corn, and

established laws for regulating civil government and the preservation

of private property; for which reasons she was afterward deemed to be

the Goddess of the Earth, and of Corn. Cicero and Diodorus Siculus

tell us that Ceres made her residence at Enna, or Henna, in Sicily,

which name, according to Bochart, signifies ‘agreeable fountain.’

Cicero and Strabo agree with Ovid in telling us that Proserpine, the

only daughter of Ceres, whom other writers name Pherephata, was

walking in the adjacent meadows, and gathering flowers with her

companions; upon which, certain pirates seized her, and, placing her

in a chariot, carried her to the seaside, whence they embarked for

Epirus. As Pausanias tells us, it was immediately spread abroad, that

Aidoneus, or Pluto, as he was called, had done it, the act having been

really committed by others, according to his orders. As those who

carried her off concealed themselves in the caverns of Mount Ætna,

awaiting their opportunity to escape, it was afterwards fabled that

Pluto came out of the Infernal Regions at that place; as that

mountain, from its nature, was always deemed one of the outlets of

Hell. Upon this, Ceres went to Greece, in search of her daughter; and,

resting at Eleusis, in Attica, she heard that the ship in which her

daughter was carried away had sailed westward. On this, she complained

to Jupiter, one of the Titan kings, but could obtain no further

satisfaction than that her daughter should be permitted to visit her

occasionally, whereby, at length, her grief was mitigated.

Banier does not agree with these suggestions of Pezeron and Le Clerc,

and thinks that Ceres is no other personage than the Isis of the

Egyptians, supposing that the story is founded on the following

circumstance:--Greece, he says, was afflicted with famine in the

reign of Erectheus, who was obliged to send to Egypt for corn, when

those who went for it brought back the worship of the Deity who

presided over agriculture. The evils which the Athenians had suffered

by the famine, and the dread of again incurring the same calamity,

made them willingly embrace the rites of a Goddess whom they believed

able to protect them from it. Triptolemus established her worship in

Eleusis, and there instituted the mysteries which he had brought over

from Egypt. These had been previously introduced into Sicily, which

was the reason why it was said that Ceres came from Sicily to Athens.

Her daughter was said to have been taken away, because corn and fruit

had not been produced in sufficient quantities, for some time, to

furnish food for the people. Pluto was said to have carried her to the

Infernal regions, because the grain and seeds at that time remained

buried, as it were, at the very center of the earth. Jupiter was said

to have decided the difference between Ceres and Pluto, because the

earth again became covered with crops.

This appears to be an ingenious allegorical explanation of the story;

but it is not at all improbable that it may have been founded upon

actual facts, and that, having lost her daughter, and going to Attica

to seek her, Ceres taught Triptolemus the mysteries of Isis; and that,

in process of time, Ceres, having become enrolled among the Divinities

of Greece, her worship became confounded with that of Isis.

It is very possible that the story of the transformation of Stellio

into a newt may have had no other foundation than the Poet’s fancy.

FABLE V.

[V. 462-563]

Ceres proceeds in a fruitless search for her daughter over the whole

earth, until the Nymph Arethusa acquaints her with the place of her

ravisher’s abode. The Goddess makes her complaint to Jupiter, and

obtains his consent for her daughter’s return to the upper world,

provided she has not eaten anything since her arrival in Pluto’s

dominions. Ascalaphus, however, having informed that she has eaten

some seeds of a pomegranate, Ceres is disappointed, and Proserpine, in

her wrath, metamorphoses the informer into an owl. The Sirens have

wings given them by the Gods, to enable them to be more expeditious in

seeking for Proserpine. Jupiter, to console Ceres for her loss,

decides that her daughter shall remain six months each year with her

mother upon earth, and the other six with her husband, in the Infernal

Regions.

“It were a tedious task[59] to relate through what lands and what seas

the Goddess wandered; for her search the world was too limited. She

returns to Sicily; and while, in her passage, she views all {places},

she comes, too, to Cyane; she, had she not been transformed, would have

told her everything. But both mouth and tongue were wanting to her,

{thus} desirous to tell, and she had no means whereby to speak. Still,

she gave unmistakable tokens, and pointed out, on the top of the water,

the girdle[60] of Proserpine, well known to her parent, which by chance

had fallen off in that place into the sacred stream.

“Soon as she recognized this, as if then, at last, she fully understood

that her daughter had been carried away[61] the Goddess tore her

unadorned hair, and struck her breast again and again with her hands.

Not as yet does she know where she is, yet she exclaims against all

countries, and calls them ungrateful, and not worthy of the gifts of

corn; {and} Trinacria before {all} others, in which she has found the

proofs of her loss. Wherefore, with vengeful hand, she there broke the

ploughs that were turning up the clods, and, in her anger, consigned to

a similar death both the husbandmen and the oxen that cultivated the

fields, and ordered the land to deny a return of what had been deposited

{therein}, and rendered the seed corrupted. The fertility of the soil,

famed over the wide world, lies in ruin, the corn dies in the early

blade, and sometimes excessive heat of the sun, sometimes excessive

showers, spoil it. Both the Constellations and the winds injure it, and

the greedy birds pick up the seed as it is sown; darnel, and thistles,

and unconquerable weeds, choke the crops of wheat.

“Then the Alpheian Nymph[62] raised her head from out of the Elean

waters, and drew back her dripping hair from her forehead to her ears,

and said, “O thou mother of the virgin sought over the whole world, and

of the crops {as well}, cease {at length} thy boundless toil, and in thy

wrath be not angered with a region that is faithful to thee. This land

does not deserve it; and against its will it gave a path for {the

commission of} the outrage. Nor am I {now} a suppliant for {my own}

country; a stranger I am come hither. Pisa is my native place, and from

Elis do I derive my birth. As a stranger do I inhabit Sicily, but this

land is more pleasing to me than any other soil. I, Arethusa, now have

this for my abode, this for my habitation; which, do thou, most kindly

{Goddess}, preserve. Why I have been removed from my {native} place, and

have been carried to Ortygia, through the waters of seas so spacious,

a seasonable time will come for my telling thee, when thou shalt be

eased of thy cares, and {wilt be} of more cheerful aspect. The pervious

earth affords me a passage, and, carried beneath its lowest caverns,

here I lift my head {again}, and behold the stars which I have not been

used {to see}. While, then, I was running under the earth, along the

Stygian stream, thy Proserpine was there beheld by my eyes.[63] {She}

indeed {was} sad, and not as yet without alarm in her countenance, but

still {she is} a queen, and the most ennobled {female} in the world of

darkness; still, too, is she the powerful spouse of the Infernal King.”

“The mother, on hearing these words, stood amazed, as though she {had

been made} of stone, and for a long time was like one stupefied; and

when her intense bewilderment was dispelled by the weight of her grief,

she departed in her chariot into the ætherial air, and there, with her

countenance all clouded, she stood before Jupiter, much to his

discredit, with her hair dishevelled; and she said, “I have come,

Jupiter, as a suppliant to thee, both for my own offspring and for

thine. If thou hast no respect for the mother, {still} let the daughter

move her father; and I pray thee not to have the less regard for her,

because she was brought forth by my travail. Lo! my daughter, so long

sought for, has been found by me at last; if you call it finding[64] to

be more certain of one’s loss; or if you call it finding, to know where

she is. I will endure {the fact}, that she has been carried off, if he

will only restore her. For, indeed, a daughter of thine is not deserving

of a ravisher for a husband, if now my own daughter is.” Jupiter

replied, “Thy daughter is a pledge and charge, in common to me and thee;

but, should it please thee only to give right names to things, this deed

is not an injury, but it is {a mark of} affection, nor will he, as a

son-in-law, be any disgrace to us, if thou only, Goddess, shouldst give

thy consent. Although other {recommendations} were wanting, how great a

thing is it to be the brother of Jupiter! and besides, is it not because

other points are not wanting, and because he is not my inferior, except

by the accident {of his allotment of the Stygian abodes}? But if thy

eagerness is so great for their separation, let Proserpine return to

heaven; still upon this fixed condition, if she has touched no food

there with her lips; for thus has it been provided by the law of the

Destinies.”

“{Thus} he spoke; still Ceres is {now} resolved to fetch away her

daughter; but not so do the Fates permit. For the damsel had broke her

fast; and, while in her innocence she was walking about the

finely-cultivated garden, she had plucked a pomegranate[65] from the

bending tree, and had chewed in her mouth seven grains[66] taken from

the pale rind. Ascalaphus[67] alone, of all persons, had seen this, whom

Orphne, by no means the most obscure among the Nymphs of Avernus,[68] is

said once to have borne to her own Acheron within {his} dusky caves. He

beheld {this}, and cruelly prevented her return by his discovery. The

Queen of Erebus grieved, and changed the informer into an accursed bird,

and turned his head, sprinkled with the waters of Phlegethon,[69] into a

beak, and feathers, and great eyes. He, {thus} robbed of his own

{shape}, is clothed with tawny wings, his head becomes larger, his long

nails bend inwards, and with difficulty can he move the wings that

spring through his sluggish arms. He becomes an obscene bird, the

foreboder of approaching woe, a lazy owl, a direful omen to mortals.

“But he, by his discovery, and his talkativeness, may seem to have

merited punishment. Whence have you, daughters of Acheloüs,[70] feathers

and the feet of birds, since you have the faces of maidens? Is it

because, when Proserpine was gathering the flowers of spring, you were

mingled in the number of her companions? After you had sought her in

vain throughout the whole world, immediately, that the waters might be

sensible of your concern, you wished to be able, on the support of your

wings, to hover over the waves, and you found the Gods propitious, and

saw your limbs grow yellow with feathers suddenly formed. But lest the

sweetness of your voice, formed for charming the ear, and so great

endowments of speech, should lose the gift of a tongue, your virgin

countenance and your human voice {still} remained.”

[Footnote 59: _A tedious task._--Ver. 463. ‘Dicere longa mora

est,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘It is a tedious business to tell.’]

[Footnote 60: _The girdle._--Ver. 470. The zone, or girdle,

a fastening round the loins, was much worn by both sexes among

the ancients. It was sometimes made of netted work, and the chief

use of it was for holding up the tunic, and keeping it from

dragging on the ground. Among the Romans, the Magister Equitum, or

‘Master of the Horse,’ wore a girdle of red leather, embroidered

by the needle, and having its extremities joined by a gold buckle.

It also formed part of the cuirass of the warrior. The girdle was

used sometimes by men to hold money instead of a purse; and the

‘pera,’ ‘wallet,’ or ‘purse,’ was generally fastened to the

girdle. As this article of dress was used to hold up the garments

for the sake of expedition, it was loosened when people were

supposed to be abstracted from the cares of the world, as in

performing sacrifice or attending at funeral rites. A girdle was

also worn by the young women, even when the tunic was not girt up;

and it was only discontinued by them on the day of marriage. To

that circumstance, allusion is made in the present instance, as a

proof of the violence that had been committed on Proserpine.]

[Footnote 61: _Had been carried away._--Ver. 471. Clarke

translates ‘tunc denique raptam Scisset,’ ‘knew that she had been

kidnapped.’]

[Footnote 62: _Alpheian Nymph._--Ver. 487. Alpheus was a river of

Elis, in the northwestern part of Peloponnesus. Its present name

is ‘Carbon.’]

[Footnote 63: _Beheld by my eyes._--Ver. 505. Ovid here makes

Arethusa the discoverer to Ceres of the fate of her daughter. In

the Fourth Book of the Fasti, he represents the Sun as giving her

that information, in which he follows the account given by Homer.

Apollodorus describes the descent of Pluto as taking place at

Hermione, a town of Argolis, in Peloponnesus, and the people of

that place as informing Ceres of what had happened to her

daughter.]

[Footnote 64: _If you call it finding._--Ver. 520. This remark of

the Goddess is very like that of the Irish sailor, who vowed that

a thing could not be said to be lost when one knows where it is;

and that his master’s kettle was quite safe, for he knew it to be

at the bottom of the sea.]

[Footnote 65: _Plucked a pomegranate._--Ver. 535. It was for this

reason that the Thesmophoriazusæ, in the performance of the rites

of Ceres, were especially careful not to taste the pomegranate.

This fruit was most probably called ‘malum,’ or ‘pomum punicum,’

or ‘puniceum,’ from the deep red or purple color of the inside,

and not as having been first introduced from Phœnicia.]

[Footnote 66: _Seven grains._--Ver. 537. He says here ‘seven,’ but

in the Fourth Book of the Fasti, only ‘three’ grains.]

[Footnote 67: _Ascalaphus._--Ver. 539. He was the son of Acheron,

by the Nymph Orphne, or Gorgyra, according to Apollodorus. The

latter author says, that for his unseasonable discovery, Ceres

placed a rock upon him; but that, having been liberated by

Hercules, she changed him into an owl, called ὦτον. The Greek name

of a lizard being ἀσκάλαβος, Mellman thinks that the

transformation of the boy into a newt, or kind of lizard, which

has just been related by the Poet, may have possibly originated in

a confused version of the story of Ascalaphus.]

[Footnote 68: _Avernus._--Ver. 540. Avernus was a lake of

Campania, near Baiæ, of a fetid smell and gloomy aspect. Being

feigned to be the mouth, or threshold, of the Infernal Regions,

its name became generally used to signify Tartarus, or the

Infernal Regions. The name is said to have been derived from the

Greek word ἄορνος, ‘without birds,’ or ‘unfrequented by birds,’ as

they could not endure the exhalations that were emitted by it.]

[Footnote 69: _Phlegethon._--Ver. 544. This was a burning river of

the Infernal Regions; which received its name from the Greek word

φλέγω, ‘to burn.’]

[Footnote 70: _Acheloüs._--Ver. 552. The Sirens were said to be

the daughters of the river Acheloüs and of one of the Muses,

either Calliope, Melpomene, or Terpsichore.]

EXPLANATION.

Apollodorus says, that the terms of the treaty respecting Proserpine

were, that she should stay on earth nine months with Ceres, and three

with Pluto, in the Infernal Regions. Other writers divide the time

equally; six months to Ceres, and six to Pluto. They also tell us that

the story of Ascalaphus is founded on the fact, that he was one of the

courtiers of Pluto, who, having advised his master to carry away

Proserpine, did all that lay in his power to obstruct the endeavors of

Ceres, and hinder the restoration of her daughter, on which Proserpine

had him privately destroyed; to screen which deed the Fable was

invented; the pernicious counsels which he gave his master being

signified by the seeds of the pomegranate. It has also been suggested

that the story of his change into an owl was based on the circumstance

that he was the overseer of the mines of Pluto, in which he perished,

removed from the light of day. Perhaps he was there crushed to death

by the fall of a rock, which caused the poets to say that Proserpine

had covered him with a large stone, as Apollodorus informs us, who

also says that it was Ceres who inflicted the punishment upon him. The

name ‘Ascalaphus’ signifies, ‘one that breaks stones,’ and, very

probably, that name was only given him to denote his employment. Some

writers state that he was changed into a lizard, which the Greeks call

‘Ascalabos,’ and, probably, the resemblance between the names gave

rise to this version of the story.

Probably, the story of the Nymph Cyane reproaching Pluto with his

treatment of Proserpine, and being thereupon changed by him into a

fountain, has no other foundation than the propinquity of the place

where Pluto’s emissaries embarked to a stream of that name near the

city of Syracuse; which was, perhaps, overflowing at that time, and

may have impeded their passage.

Ovid, probably, feigned that the Sirens begged the Gods to change them

into birds, that they might seek for Proserpine, on the ground of some

existing tradition, that living on the coast of Italy, near the island

of Sicily, and having heard of the misfortune that had befallen her,

they ordered a ship with sails to be equipped to go in search of her.

Further reference to the Sirens will be made, on treating of the

adventures of Ulysses.

FABLE VI. [V.564-641]

The Muse continues her song, in which Ceres, being satisfied with the

decision of Jupiter relative to her daughter, returns to Arethusa, to

learn the history of her adventures. The Nymph entertains the Goddess

with the Story of the passion of Alpheus, and his pursuit of her; to

avoid which, she implores the assistance of Diana, who changes her

into a fountain.

“But Jupiter being the mediator between his brother and his disconsolate

sister, divides the rolling year equally {between them}. For {now}, the

Goddess, a common Divinity of two kingdoms, is so many months with her

mother, and just as many with her husband. Immediately the appearance of

both her mind and her countenance is changed; for the brow of the

Goddess, which, of late, might appear sad, even to Pluto, himself, is

full of gladness; as the Sun, which has lately been covered with watery

clouds, when he comes forth from the clouds, {now} dispersed. The genial

Ceres, {now} at ease on the recovery of her daughter, {thus} asks, ‘What

was the cause of thy wanderings? Why art thou, Arethusa, a sacred

spring?’ The waters are silent, {and}, the Goddess raises her head from

the deep fountain; and, having dried her green tresses with her hand,

she relates the old amours of the stream of Elis.[71]

“‘I was,’ says she, ‘one of the Nymphs which exist in Achaia, nor did

any one more eagerly skim along the glades than myself, nor with more

industry set the nets. But though the reputation for beauty was never

sought by me, although, {too}, I was of robust make, {still} I had the

name of being beautiful. But my appearance, when so much commended, did

not please me; and I, like a country lass, blushed at those endowments

of person in which other females are wont to take a pride, and I deemed

it a crime to please. I remember, I was returning weary from the

Stymphalian[72] wood; the weather was hot, and my toil had redoubled the

intense heat. I found a stream gliding on without any eddies, without

any noise, {and} clear to the bottom; through which every pebble, at so

great a depth, might be counted, {and} which you could hardly suppose to

be in motion. The hoary willows[73] and poplars, nourished by the water,

furnished a shade, spontaneously produced, along the shelving banks.

I approached, and, at first, I dipped the soles of my feet, and then, as

far as the knee. Not content with that, I undressed, and I laid my soft

garments upon a bending willow; and, naked, I plunged into the waters.

“‘While I was striking them, and drawing them {towards me}, moving in a

thousand ways, and was sending forth my extended arms, I perceived a

most unusual murmuring noise beneath the middle of the stream; and,

alarmed, I stood on the edge of the nearer bank. ‘Whither dost thou

hasten, Arethusa?’ said Alpheus from his waves. ‘Whither dost thou

hasten?’ again he said to me, in a hollow tone. Just as I was, I fled

without my clothes; {for} the other side had my garments. So much the

more swiftly did he pursue, and become inflamed; and, because I was

naked, the more tempting to him did I appear. Thus was I running; thus

unrelentingly was he pursuing me; as the doves are wont to fly from the

hawk with trembling wings, and as the hawk is wont to pursue the

trembling doves, I held out in my course even as far as Orchomenus,[74]

and Psophis,[75] and Cyllene, and the Mænalian valleys, and cold

Erymanthus and Elis. Nor was he swifter than I, but unequal to {him} in

strength, I was unable, any longer, to keep up the chase; for he was

able to endure prolonged fatigue. However, I ran over fields {and} over

mountains covered with trees, rocks too, and crags, and where there was

no path. The sun was upon my back; I saw a long shadow advancing before

my feet, unless, perhaps, it was my fear that saw it. But, at all

events, I was alarmed at the sound of his feet, and his increased

hardness of breathing was {now} fanning the fillets of my hair. Wearied

with the exertion of my flight, I said, ‘Give aid, Dictynna, to thy

armor-bearer, {or} I am overtaken; {I}, to whom thou hast so often given

thy bow to carry, and thy darts enclosed in a quiver.’ The Goddess was

moved, and, taking one of the dense clouds, she threw it over me. The

river looked about for me, concealed in the darkness, and, in his

ignorance sought about the encircling cloud and twice, unconsciously did

he go around the place where the Goddess had concealed me, and twice did

he cry, ‘Ho, Arethusa![76] Ho, Arethusa!’ What, then, were my feelings

in my wretchedness? Were they not just those of the lamb, as it hears

the wolves howling around the high sheep-folds? Or of the hare, which,

lurking in the bush, beholds the hostile noses of the dogs, and dares

not make a single movement with her body? Yet he does not depart; for no

{further} does he trace any prints of my feet. He watches the cloud and

the spot. A cold perspiration takes possession of my limbs {thus}

besieged, and azure colored drops distil from all my body. Wherever I

move my foot, {there} flows a lake; drops trickle from my hair, and, in

less time than I take in acquainting thee with my fate, I was changed

into a stream. But still the river recognized the waters, the objects of

his love; and, having laid aside the shape of a mortal, which he had

assumed, he was changed into his own waters, that he might mingle with

me. {Thereupon}, the Delian Goddess cleaved the ground. Sinking, I was

carried through dark caverns to Ortygia,[77] which, being dear to me,

from the surname of my own Goddess, was the first to introduce me to the

upper air.’”

[Footnote 71: _Stream of Elis._--Ver. 576. The Alpheus really rose

in Arcadia; but, as it ran through the territory of the Eleans,

and discharged itself into the sea, near Cyllene, the seaport of

that people, they worshipped it with divine honors.]

[Footnote 72: _Stymphalian._--Ver. 585. Stymphalus was the name of

a city, mountain, and river of Arcadia, near the territory of

Elis.]

[Footnote 73: _Hoary willows._--Ver. 590. The leaf of the willow

has a whitish hue, especially on one side of it.]

[Footnote 74: _Orchomenus._--Ver. 607. This was a city of Arcadia,

in a marshy district, near to Mantinea. There was another place of

the same name, in Bœotia, between Elatea and Coronea, famous for a

splendid temple to the Graces, there erected.]

[Footnote 75: _Psophis._--Ver. 607. This was a city of Arcadia

also, adjoining to the Elean territory, which received its name

from Psophis, the daughter of Lycaon, or of Eryx, according to

some writers. There were several other towns of the same name.

The other places here mentioned, with the exception of Elis, were

mountains of Arcadia.]

[Footnote 76: _Ho, Arethusa!_--Ver. 625-6. Clarke thus translates

these lines:--‘And twice called out Soho, Arethusa! Soho,

Arethusa! What thought had I then, poor soul!’]

[Footnote 77: _To Ortygia._--Ver. 640. From the similarity of its

name to that of the Goddess Diana, who was called Ortygia, from

the Isle of Delos, where she was born.]

EXPLANATION.

Bochart tells us that the story of the fountain Arethusa and the river

Alpheus, her lover, who traversed so many countries in pursuit of her,

has no other foundation than an equivocal expression in the language

of the first inhabitants of Sicily. The Phœnicians, who went to settle

in that island, finding the fountain surrounded with willows, gave it

the name of ‘Alphaga,’ or ‘the fountain of the willows.’ Others,

again, gave it the name of ‘Arith,’ signifying ‘a stream.’ The Greeks,

arriving there in after ages, not understanding the signification of

these words, and remembering their own river Alpheus, in Elis,

imagined that since the river and the fountain had nearly the same

name, Alpheus had crossed the sea, to arrive in Sicily.

This notion appearing, probably, to the poets not devoid of ingenuity,

they accordingly founded on it the romantic story of the passion of

the river God Alpheus for the Nymph Arethusa. Some of the ancient

historians appear, however, in their credulity, really to have

believed, at least, a part of the story, as they seriously tell us,

that the river Alpheus passes under the bed of the sea, and rises

again in Sicily, near the fountain of Arethusa. Even among the more

learned, this fable gained credit; for we find the oracle of Delphi

ordering Archias to conduct a colony of Corinthians to Syracuse, and

the priestess giving the following directions:--‘Go into that island

where the river Alpheus mixes his waters with the fair Arethusa.’

Pausanias avows, that he regards the story of Alpheus and Arethusa as

a mere fable; but, not daring to dispute a fact established by the

response of an oracle, he does not contradict the fact of the river

running through the sea, though he is at a loss to understand how it

can happen.

FABLE VII. [V.642-678]

Ceres entrusts her chariot to Triptolemus, and orders him to go

everywhere, and cultivate the earth. He obeys her, and, at length,

arrives in Scythia, where Lyncus, designing to kill him, is changed

into a lynx. The Muse then finishes her song, on which the daughters

of Pierus are changed into magpies.

“Thus far Arethusa. The fertile Goddess yoked[78] two dragons to her

chariot, and curbed their mouths with bridles; and was borne through the

mid air of heaven and of earth, and guided her light chariot to the

Tritonian citadel, to Triptolemus; and she ordered him to scatter the

seeds that were entrusted {to him} partly in the fallow ground, {and}

partly {in the ground} restored to cultivation after so long a time. Now

had the youth been borne on high over Europe and the lands of Asia,[79]

and he arrived at the coast of Scythia: Lyncus was the king there. He

entered the house of the king. Being asked whence he came, and the

occasion of his coming, and his name, and his country, he said, ‘My

country is the famous Athens, my name is Triptolemus. I came neither in

a ship through the waves, nor on foot by land; the pervious sky made a

way for me. I bring the gifts of Ceres, which, scattered over the wide

fields, are to yield {you} the fruitful harvests, and wholesome food.’

The barbarian envies him; and that he himself may be {deemed} the author

of so great a benefit, he receives him with hospitality, and, when

overpowered with sleep, he attacks him with the sword. {But}, while

attempting to pierce his breast, Ceres made him a lynx; and again sent

the Mopsopian[80] youth to drive the sacred drawers of her chariot

through the air.

“The greatest of us[81] had {now} finished her learned song. But the

Nymphs, with unanimous voice, pronounced that the Goddesses who inhabit

Helicon had proved the conquerors. Then the others, {thus} vanquished,

began to scatter their abuse: ‘Since,’ said she, ‘it is a trifling

matter for you to have merited punishment by this contest, you add

abuse, too, to your fault, and endurance is not permitted us: we shall

proceed to punishment, and whither our resentment calls, we shall

follow.’ The Emathian sisters smiled, and despised our threatening

language; and endeavoring to speak, and to menace with their insolent

hands amid great clamor, they beheld quills growing out of their nails,

and their arms covered with feathers. And they each see the face of the

other shooting out into a hard beak, and new birds being added to the

woods. And while they strive to beat their breasts elevated by the

motion of their arms, they hang poised in the air, {as} magpies, the

scandal of the groves. Even then their original talkativeness remains in

{them} as birds, and their jarring garrulity, and their enormous love of

chattering.”

[Footnote 78: _Goddess yoked._--Ver. 642. Clarke renders ‘geminos

Dea fertilis angues curribus admovit,’ ‘the fertile Goddess

clapped two snakes to her chariot.’]

[Footnote 79: _Lands of Asia._--Ver. 648. Asia Minor is here

meant; the other parts of Asia being included under the term

‘Scythicas oras.’]

[Footnote 80: _Mopsopian._--Ver. 661. This very uneuphonious name

is derived from Mopsopus, one of the ancient kings of Attica. It

here means ‘Athenian.’]

[Footnote 81: _The greatest of us._--Ver. 662. Namely, Calliope,

who had commenced her song as the representative of the Muses, at

line 341.]

EXPLANATION.

Triptolemus reigned at Eleusis at the time when the mysteries of Ceres

were established there. As we are told by Philochorus, he went with a

ship, to carry corn into different countries, and introduced there the

worship of Ceres, whose priest he was. This is, doubtless, the key for

the explanation of the story, that Ceres nursed him on her own milk,

and purified him by fire. Some have supposed that the fable refers to

the epoch when agriculture was introduced into Greece: but it is much

more probable that it relates simply to the introduction there of the

mysterious worship of Ceres, which was probably imported from Egypt.

It is possible that, at the same period, the Greeks may have learned

some improved method of tilling the ground, acquired by their

intercourse with Egypt.

Probably, the dangers which Triptolemus experienced in his voyages and

travels, gave rise to the story of Lyncus, whose cruelty caused him to

be changed into a lynx. Bochart and Le Clerc think that the fable of

Triptolemus being drawn by winged dragons, is based upon the equivocal

meaning of a Phœnician word, which signified either ‘a winged dragon,’

or ‘a ship fastened with iron nails or bolts.’ Philochorus, however,

as cited by Eusebius, says that his ship was called a flying dragon,

from its carrying the figure of a dragon on its prow. We learn from a

fragment of Stobæus, that Erectheus, when engaged in a war against the

Eleusinians, was told by the oracle that he would be victorious, if he

sacrificed his daughter Proserpine. This, perhaps, may have given

rise, or added somewhat, to the story of the rape of Proserpine by

Pluto.

According to a fragment of Homer, cited by Pausanias, the names of the

first Greeks, who were initiated into the mysteries of Ceres,

were,--Celeus, Triptolemus, Eumolpus, and Diocles. Clement of

Alexandria calls them Baubon, Dysaulus, Eubuleüs, Eumolpus, and

Triptolemus. Eumolpus being the Hierophant, or explainer of the

mysteries of Eleusis, made war against Erectheus, king of Athens. They

were both killed in battle, and it was thereupon agreed that the

posterity of Erectheus should be kings of Athens, and the descendants

of Eumolpus should, in future, retain the office of Hierophant.

BOOK THE SIXTH.

FABLE I. [VI.1-145]

Arachne, vain-glorious of her ingenuity, challenges Minerva to a

contest of skill in her art. The Goddess accepts the challenge, and,

being enraged to see herself outdone, strikes her rival with her

shuttle; upon which, Arachne, in her distress, hangs herself. Minerva,

touched with compassion, transforms her into a spider.

Tritonia had {meanwhile} lent an ear to such recitals as these, and she

approved of the songs of the Aonian maids, and their just resentment.

Then {thus she says} to herself: “To commend is but a trifling matter;

let us, too, deserve commendation, and let us not permit our divine

majesty to be slighted without {due} punishment.” And {then} she turns

her mind to the fate of the Mæonian Arachne; who, as she had heard, did

not yield to her in the praises of the art of working in wool. She was

renowned not for the place {of her birth}, nor for the origin of her

family, but for her skill {alone}. Idmon, of Colophon,[1] her father,

used to dye the soaking wool in Phocæan[2] purple.[3] Her mother was

dead; but she, too, was of the lower rank, and of the same condition

with her husband. Yet {Arachne}, by her skill, had acquired a memorable

name throughout the cities of Lydia; although, born of a humble family,

she used to live in the little {town} of Hypæpæ.[4] Often did the Nymphs

desert the vineyards of their own Tymolus, that they might look at her

admirable workmanship; {often} did the Nymphs of the {river} Pactolus[5]

forsake their streams. And not only did it give them pleasure to look at

the garments when made, but even, too, while they were being made, so

much grace was there in her working. Whether it was that she was rolling

the rough wool into its first balls, or whether she was unravelling the

work with her fingers, and was softening the fleeces worked over again

with long drawings out, equalling the mists {in their fineness}; or

whether she was moving the {smooth} round spindle with her nimble thumb,

or was embroidering with the needle, you might perceive that she had

been instructed by Pallas.

This, however, she used to deny; and, being displeased with a mistress

so famed, she said, “Let her contend with me. There is nothing which, if

conquered, I should refuse {to endure}.” Pallas personates an old woman;

she both places false gray hair on her temples, and supports as well her

infirm limbs by a staff. Then thus she begins to speak: “Old age has not

everything which we should avoid; experience comes from lengthened

years. Do not despise my advice; let the greatest fame for working wool

be sought by thee among mortals. {But} yield to the Goddess, and, rash

woman, ask pardon for thy speeches with suppliant voice. She will grant

pardon at my entreaty.” {The other} beholds her with scowling {eyes},

and leaves the threads she has begun; and scarcely restraining her hand,

and discovering her anger by her looks, with such words as these does

she reply to the disguised Pallas: “Thou comest {here} bereft of thy

understanding, and worn out with prolonged old age; and it is thy

misfortune to have lived too long. If thou hast any daughter-in-law, if

thou hast any daughter {of thy own}, let her listen to these remarks.

I have sufficient knowledge for myself in myself, and do not imagine

that thou hast availed anything by thy advice; my opinion is {still} the

same. Why does not she come herself? why does she decline this contest?”

Then the Goddess says, “Lo! she is come;” and she casts aside the figure

of an old woman, and shows herself {as} Pallas. The Nymphs and the

Mygdonian[6] matrons venerate the Goddess. The virgin alone is not

daunted. But still she blushes, and a sudden flush marks her reluctant

features, and again it vanishes; {just} as the sky is wont to become

tinted with purple, when Aurora is first stirring, and after a short

time to grow white from the influence of the Sun. She persists in her

determination, and, from a desire for a foolish victory, she rushes upon

her own destruction. Nor, indeed, does the daughter of Jupiter decline

{it}, or advise her any further, nor does she now put off the contest.

There is no delay; they both take their stand in different places, and

stretch out two webs {on the loom} with a fine warp. The web is tied

around the beam; the sley separates the warp; the woof is inserted in

the middle with sharp shuttles, which the fingers hurry along, and being

drawn within the warp, the teeth notched in the moving sley strike it.

Both hasten on, and girding up their garments to their breasts, they

move their skilful arms, their eagerness beguiling their fatigue. There

both the purple is being woven, which is subjected to the Tyrian brazen

vessel,[7] and fine shades of minute difference; just as the rainbow,

with its mighty arch, is wont to tint a long tract of the sky by means

of the rays reflected by the shower: in which, though a thousand

different colors are shining, yet the very transition eludes the eyes

that look upon it; to such a degree is that which is adjacent the same;

and yet the extremes are different. There, too, the pliant gold is mixed

with the threads, and ancient subjects are represented on the webs.

Pallas embroiders the rock of Mars[8] in {Athens}, the citadel of

Cecrops, and the old dispute about the name of the country. Twice six[9]

celestial Gods are sitting on lofty seats in august state, with Jupiter

in the midst. His own proper likeness distinguishes each of the Gods.

The form of Jupiter is that of a monarch. She makes the God of the sea

to be standing {there}, and to be striking the rugged rocks with his

long trident, and a wild {horse} to be springing forth[10] out of the

midst of the opening of the rock; by which pledge {of his favor} he lays

claim to the city. But to herself she gives the shield, she gives the

lance with its sharp point; she gives the helmet to her head, {and} her

breast is protected by the Ægis. She {there} represents, too, the earth

struck by her spear, producing a shoot of pale olive with its berries,

and the Gods admiring it. Victory is the end of her work. But that the

rival of her fame may learn from precedents what reward to expect for an

attempt so mad, she adds, in four {different} parts, four contests

bright in their coloring, and distinguished by diminutive figures. One

corner contains Thracian Rhodope and Hæmus, now cold mountains, formerly

human bodies, who assumed to themselves the names of the supreme Gods.

Another part contains the wretched fate of the Pygmæan matron.[11] Her,

overcome in a contest, Juno commanded to be a crane, and to wage war

against her own people. She depicts, too, Antigone,[12] who once dared

to contend with the wife of the great Jupiter; {and} whom the royal Juno

changed into a bird; nor did Ilion protect her, or her father Laomedon,

from assuming wings, and {as} a white crane, from commending herself

with her chattering beak. The only corner that remains, represents the

bereft Cinyras;[13] and he, embracing the steps of a temple, {once} the

limbs of his own daughters, and lying upon the stone, appears to be

weeping. She surrounds the exterior borders with peaceful olive. That is

the close; and with her own tree she puts an end to the work.

The Mæonian Nymph delineates Europa, deceived by the form of the bull;

and you would think it a real bull, and real sea. She herself seems to

be looking upon the land which she has left, and to be crying out to her

companions, and to be in dread of the touch of the dashing waters, and

to be drawing up her timid feet. She drew also Asterie,[14] seized by

the struggling eagle; and made Leda, reclining beneath the wings of the

swan. She added, how Jupiter, concealed under the form of a Satyr,

impregnated {Antiope},[15] the beauteous daughter of Nycteus, with a

twin offspring; {how} he was Amphitryon, when he beguiled thee,

Tirynthian[16] dame; how, turned to gold, he deceived Danaë; {how},

changed into fire, the daughter of Asopus;[17] {how}, as a shepherd,

Mnemosyne;[18] and as a speckled serpent, Deois.[19] She depicted thee

too, Neptune, changed into a fierce bull, with the virgin daughter[20]

of Æolus. Thou, seeming to be Enipeus,[21] didst beget the Aloïdæ; as a

ram, thou didst delude {Theophane}, the daughter of Bisaltis.[22] Thee

too the most bounteous mother of corn, with her yellow hair,

experienced[23] as a steed; thee, the mother[24] of the winged horse,

with her snaky locks, received as a bird; Melantho,[25] as a dolphin. To

all these did she give their own likeness, and the {real} appearance of

the {various} localities. There was Phœbus, under the form of a rustic;

and how, {besides}, he was wearing the wings of a hawk at one time, at

another the skin of a lion; how, too, as a shepherd, he deceived

Isse,[26] the daughter of Macareus. How Liber deceived Erigone,[27] in a

fictitious bunch of grapes; {and} how Saturn[28] begot the two-formed

Chiron, in {the form of} a horse. The extreme part of the web, being

enclosed in a fine border, had flowers interwoven with the twining ivy.

Pallas could not blame that work, nor could Envy {censure} it. The

yellow-haired Virgin grieved at her success, and tore the web

embroidered with the criminal acts of the Gods of heaven. And as she was

holding her shuttle {made of boxwood} from Mount Cytorus, three or four

times did she strike the forehead of Arachne, the daughter of Idmon. The

unhappy creature could not endure it; and being of a high spirit, she

tied up her throat in a halter. Pallas, taking compassion, bore her up

as she hung; and thus she said: “Live on indeed, wicked one,[29] but

still hang; and let the same decree of punishment be pronounced against

thy race, and against thy latest posterity, that thou mayst not be free

from care in time to come.” After that, as she departed, she sprinkled

her with the juices of an Hecatean herb;[30] and immediately her hair,

touched by the noxious drug, fell off, and together with it her nose and

ears. The head of herself, {now} small as well throughout her whole

body, becomes very small. Her slender fingers cleave to her sides as

legs; her belly takes possession of the rest {of her}; but out of this

she gives forth a thread; and {as} a spider, she works at her web as

formerly.

[Footnote 1: _Colophon._--Ver. 8. Colophon was an opulent city of

Lydia, famous for an oracle of Apollo there.]

[Footnote 2: _Phocæan._--Ver. 9. Phocæa was a city of Æolia, in

Ionia, on the shores of the Mediterranean, famous for its purple

dye.]

[Footnote 3: _Purple._--Ver. 9. ‘Murex’ was a shell-fish, now

called ‘the purple,’ the juices of which were much used by the

ancients for dyeing a deep purple color. The most valuable kinds

were found near Tyre and Phocæa, mentioned in the text.]

[Footnote 4: _Hypæpæ._--Ver. 13. This was a little town of Lydia,

near the banks of the river Cayster. It was situate on the descent

of Mount Tymolus, or Tmolus, famed for its wines and saffron.]

[Footnote 5: _Pactolus._--Ver. 16. This was a river of Lydia,

which was said to have sands of gold.]

[Footnote 6: _Mygdonian._--Ver. 45. Mygdonia was a small territory

of Phrygia, bordering upon Lydia, and colonized by a people from

Thrace. Probably these persons had come from the neighboring

country, to see the exquisite works of Arachne. As the Poet tells

us, many were present when the Goddess discovered herself, and

professed their respect and veneration, while Arachne alone

remained unmoved.]

[Footnote 7: _Brazen vessel._--Ver. 60. It seems that brazen

cauldrons were used for the purposes of dyeing, in preference to

those of iron.]

[Footnote 8: _Rock of Mars._--Ver. 70. This was the spot called

Areiopagus, which was said to have received its name from the

trial there of Mars, when he was accused by Neptune of having

slain his son Halirrothius.]

[Footnote 9: _Twice six._--Ver. 72. These were the ‘Dii

consentes,’ mentioned before, in the note to Book i., l. 172. They

are thus enumerated in an Elegiac couplet, more consistent with

the rules of prosody than the two lines there quoted:--

‘Vulcanus, Mars, Sol, Neptunus, Jupiter, Hermes,

Vesta, Diana, Ceres, Juno, Minerva, Venus.’]

[Footnote 10: _To be springing forth._--Ver. 76-7. Clarke renders

‘facit--e vulnere saxi Exsiluisse ferum,’ ‘she makes a wild horse

bounce out of the opening in the rock.’]

[Footnote 11: _Pygmæan matron._--Ver. 90. According to Ælian, the

name of this queen of the Pigmies was Gerane, while other writers

call her Pygas. She was worshipped by her subjects as a Goddess,

which raised her to such a degree of conceit, that she despised

the worship of the Deities, especially of Juno and Diana, on which

in their indignation, they changed her into a crane, the most

active enemy of the Pygmies. These people were dwarfs, living

either in India, Arabia, or Thrace, and they were said not to

exceed a cubit in height.]

[Footnote 12: _Antigone._--Ver. 93. She was the daughter of

Laomedon, king of Troy, and was remarkable for the extreme beauty

of her hair. Proud of this, she used to boast that she resembled

Juno; on which the Goddess, offended at her presumption, changed

her hair into serpents. In compassion, the Deities afterwards

transformed her into a stork.]

[Footnote 13: _Cinyras._--Ver. 98. Cinyras had several daughters

(besides Myrrha), remarkable for their extreme beauty. Growing

insolent upon the strength of their good looks, and pretending to

surpass even Juno herself in beauty, they incurred the resentment

of that Goddess, who changed them into the steps of a temple, and

transformed their father into a stone, as he was embracing the

steps.]

[Footnote 14: _Asterie._--Ver. 108. She was the daughter of Cæus,

the Titan, and of Phœbe, and was ravished by Jupiter under the

form of an eagle. She was the wife of Perses, and the mother of

Hecate. Flying from the wrath of Jupiter, she was first changed by

him into a quail; and afterwards into a stone.]

[Footnote 15: _Antiope._--Ver. 110. Antiope was the daughter of

Nycteus, a king of Bœotia. Being seduced by Jupiter under the form

of a Satyr, she bore two sons, Zethus and Amphion. On being

insulted by Dirce, she was seized with madness, and was cured by

Phocus, whom she is said to have afterwards married.]

[Footnote 16: _Tirynthian._--Ver. 112. Tirynthus was a city near

Argos, where Hercules was born and educated, and from which place

his mother, Alcmene, derived her present appellation.]

[Footnote 17: _Daughter of Asopus._--Ver. 113. Jupiter changed

himself into fire, or, according to some, into an eagle, to seduce

Ægina, the daughter of Asopus, king of Bœotia. By her he was the

father of Æacus.]

[Footnote 18: _Mnemosyne._--Ver. 114. This Nymph, as already

mentioned, became the mother of the Nine Muses, having been

seduced by Jupiter.]

[Footnote 19: _Deois._--Ver. 114. Proserpine was called Deois, or

Dêous Δηοῦς κόρη, from her mother Ceres, who was called Δηὼ by the

Greeks, from the verb δήω, ‘to find;’ because as it was said, when

seeking for her daughter, the universal answer of those who wished

her success in her search, was, δήεις, ‘You will find her.’]

[Footnote 20: _Virgin daughter._--Ver. 116. This was Canace, or

Arne, the daughter of Æolus, whom Neptune seduced under the form

of a bull.]

[Footnote 21: _Enipeus._--Ver. 116. Under the form of Enipeus,

a river of Thessaly, Neptune committed violence upon Iphimedeia,

the wife of the giant Aloëus, and by her was the father of the

giants Otus and Ephialtes.]

[Footnote 22: _Bisaltis._--Ver. 117. Theophane was the daughter of

Bisaltis. Changing her into a sheep, and himself into a ram,

Neptune begot the Ram with the golden fleece, that bore Phryxus to

Colchis.]

[Footnote 23: _Experienced._--Ver. 119. ‘Te sensit,’ repeated

twice in this line, Clarke translates, not in a very elegant

manner, ‘had a bout with thee,’ and ‘had a touch from thee.’ By

Neptune, Ceres became the mother of the horse Arion; or, according

to some, of a daughter, whose name it was not deemed lawful to

mention.]

[Footnote 24: _Thee the mother._--Ver. 119. This was Medusa, who,

according to some, was the mother of the horse Pegasus, by

Neptune, though it is more generally said that it sprang from her

blood, when she was slain by Perseus.]

[Footnote 25: _Melantho._--Ver. 120. Melantho was the daughter

either of Proteus, or of Deucalion, and was the mother of Delphus,

by Neptune.]

[Footnote 26: _Isse._--Ver. 124. She was a native of either

Lesbos, or Eubœa. Her father, Macareus, was the son of Jupiter and

Cyrene.]

[Footnote 27: _Erigone._--Ver. 125. She was the daughter of

Icarus, and was placed among the Constellations.]

[Footnote 28: _How Saturn._--Ver. 126. By Phillyra, Saturn was the

father of the Centaur Chiron. We may here remark, that Arachne was

not very complimentary to the Gods, in the choice of her subjects;

probably it was not her intention or wish to be so.]

[Footnote 29: _Wicked one._--Ver. 136. Clarke translates

‘improba,’ ‘thou wicked jade.’]

[Footnote 30: _An Hecatean Herb._--Ver. 139. This was aconite, or

wolfsbane, said to have been discovered by Hecate, the mother of

Medea. She was the first who sought after, and taught the

properties of poisonous herbs. Some accounts say, that the aconite

was produced from the foam of Cerberus, when dragged by Hercules

from the infernal regions.]

EXPLANATION.

The story of Arachne is most probably based upon the simple fact, that

she was the most skilful artist of her time, at working in silk and

wool. Pliny the Elder tells us, that Arachne, the daughter of Idmon,

a Lydian by birth, and of low extraction, invented the art of making

linen cloths and nets; which invention was also by some attributed to

Minerva. This competition, then, for the merit of the invention, is

the foundation of the challenge here described by the Poet. As,

however, Arachne is said to have hanged herself in despair, she

probably fell a prey to some cause of grief or discontent, the

particulars of which, in their simple form, have not come down to us.

Perhaps the similarity of her name and employment with those of the

spider, as known among the Greeks, gave rise to the story of her

alleged transformation; unless we should prefer to attribute the story

to the fact of the Hebrew word “arag,” signifying to spin, and, in

some degree, resembling her name.

In this story, Ovid takes the opportunity of touching upon several

fables, the subjects whereof he states to have been represented in the

works of Minerva and Arachne. He alludes, among other matters, to the

dispute between Neptune and Minerva, about giving a name to the city

of Athens. St. Augustine, on the authority of Varro, says, that

Cecrops, in building that city, found an olive tree and a fountain,

and that the oracle at Delphi, on being consulted, stating that both

Minerva and Neptune had a right to name the city, the Senate decided

in favor of the Goddess; and this circumstance, he says, gave rise to

the story. According to some writers, it was based on the fact, that

Cranaüs changed the name of the city from Poseidonius, which it was

called after Neptune, to Athenæ, after his own daughter Athena: and as

the Areiopagus sanctioned this change, it was fabled that Neptune had

been overcome by the judgment of the Gods.

The Jesuit Tournemine suggests the following explanation of the

story:--He says, that the aborigines of Attica, being conquered by the

Pelasgians, learned from them the art of navigation, which they turned

to account by becoming pirates. Cecrops, bringing a colony from Saïs,

in Egypt, tried to abolish this barbarous custom, and taught them a

more civilized mode of life; and, among other things, he showed them

how to till the earth, and to raise the olive, for the cultivation of

which he found the soil very favorable. He also introduced the worship

of Minerva, or Athena, as she was called, a Goddess highly honored at

Saïs, and to whom the olive tree was dedicated. Her the Athenians

afterwards regarded as the patroness of their city, which they called

after her name. Athens becoming famous for its olives, and,

considerable profit arising from their cultivation, the new settlers

attempted to wean the natives from piracy, by calling their attention

to agricultural pursuits. To succeed in this, they composed a fable,

in which Neptune was said to be overcome by Minerva; who, even in the

judgment of the twelve greater deities, had found out something of

more utility than he. This fable Tournemine supposes to have been

composed in the ancient language of the country, which was the

Phrygian, mingled with many Phœnician words; and, as in those

languages the same word signifies either a ship or a horse, those who

afterwards interpreted the fable, took the word in the latter

signification, and spoke of a horse instead of a ship, which was

really the original emblem employed in the fiction.

Vossius thinks that the fable originated in a dispute between the

sailors of Athens, who acknowledged Neptune for their chief, and the

people, who followed the Senate, governed by Minerva. The people

prevailed, and a life of civilization, marked by attention to the

pursuits of agriculture, was substituted for one of piracy; which gave

occasion for the saying, that Minerva had overcome Neptune.

With reference to the intrigues and lustful actions attributed to the

various Deities by Arachne in the delineations on her embroidery, we

may here remark, by way of elucidating the origin of these stories in

general, that, in early times, when the earth was sunk in ignorance

and superstition, and might formed the only right in the heathen

world, where a king or petty chieftain demanded the daughter of a

neighbor in marriage, and met with a refusal, he immediately had

recourse to arms, to obtain her by force. Their standards and ships,

on these expeditions, carrying their ensigns, consisting of birds,

beasts, or fabulous monsters, gave occasion to those who described

their feats of prowess to say, that the ravisher had changed himself

into a bull, an eagle, or a lion, for the purpose of effecting his

object. The kings and potentates of those days, being frequently

called Jupiter, Apollo, Neptune, etc., and the priests of the Gods so

named often obtaining their ends by assuming the names of the

Divinities they served, we can account the more easily for the number

of intrigues and abominable actions, attended by changes and

transformations, which the poets and mythologists attribute to many of

the Deities.

Palæphatus suggests a very ingenious method of accounting for these

stories; founded, however, it must be owned, on a very low estimate of

female virtue in those times. He says, that these fabulous narratives

originate in the figures of different animals which were engraved on

the coins of those times; and that, when money was given to buy over

or to procure the seduction of a female, it was afterward said that

the lover had himself taken the figure which was represented on the

coin, by means of which his object had been effected.

Ovid, in common with many of the ancient historians, geographers, and

naturalists, mentions the Pygmies, of which, from the time of Homer

downwards, a nation was supposed to exist, in a state of continual

warfare with the Cranes. Aristotle, who believed in their existence,

placed them in Æthiopia; Pliny, Solinus, and Philostratus in India,

near the source of the Ganges; others again, in Scythia, on the banks

of the Danube. Some of the moderns have attempted to explain the

origin of this prevalent notion. Olaüs Magnus thinks the Samoeids and

Laplanders to have been the Pygmies of Homer. Gesner and others fancy

that they have found their originals in Thuringia; while Albertus

Magnus supposed that the Pygmies were the monkeys, which are so

numerous in the interior of Africa, and which were taken for human

beings of diminutive stature. Vander Hart, who has written a most

ingenious treatise on the subject, suggests that the fable originated

in a war between two cities in Greece, Pagæ and Gerania, the

similarity of whose names to those of the Pygmies and the Cranes, gave

occasion to their neighbors, the Corinthians, to confer on them those

nicknames. It is most probable, however, that the story was founded

upon the diminutive stature of some of the native tribes of the

interior of Africa.

As to the fable of Pygas being changed into a crane, Banier suggests,

that the origin of it may be found in the work of Antoninus Liberalis,

quoting from the Theogony of Bœus. That poet, whose works are lost,

says, that among the Pygmies there was a very beautiful princess,

named Œnoë, who greatly oppressed her subjects. Having married

Nicodamas, she had by him a son, named Mopsus, whom her subjects

seized upon, to educate him in their own way. She accordingly raised

levies against her own subjects; and that circumstance, together with

the name of Gerane, which, according to Ælian, she also bore, gave

rise to the fable, which said that she was changed into a crane; the

resemblance which it bore to ‘geranos,’ the Greek for ‘a crane,’

suggesting the foundation of the story.

FABLE II. [VI.146-312]

The Theban matrons, forming a solemn procession in honor of Latona,

Niobe esteems herself superior to the Goddess, and treats her and her

offspring with contempt; on which, Apollo and Diana, to avenge the

affront offered to their mother, destroy all the children of Niobe;

and she, herself, is changed into a statue.

All Lydia is in an uproar, and the rumor of the fact goes through the

town of Phrygia, and fills the wide world with discourse {thereon}.

Before her own marriage Niobe had known her,[31] at the time, when still

single, she was inhabiting Mæonia and Sipylus.[32] And yet by the

punishment of her countrywoman, Arachne, she was not warned to yield to

the inhabitants of Heaven, and to use less boastful words. Many things

augmented her pride; but yet, neither the skill of her husband, nor the

descent of them both, nor the sovereignty of a mighty kingdom, pleased

her so much (although all of them did please her) as her own progeny;

and Niobe might have been pronounced the happiest of mothers, if she had

not so seemed to herself.

For Manto, the daughter of Tiresias, foreknowing the future, urged by a

divine impulse, had proclaimed through the middle of the streets, “Ye

women of Ismenus, go all of you,[33] and give to Latona, and the two

children of Latona, the pious frankincense, together with prayers, and

wreathe your hair with laurel; by my mouth does Latona command {this}.”

Obedience is paid; and all the Theban women adorn their temples with

leaves {of laurel}, as commanded, and offer frankincense on the sacred

fires, and words of supplication. Lo! Niobe comes, surrounded with a

crowd of attendants, conspicuous for the gold interwoven in her Phrygian

garments, and beautiful, so far as anger will allow; and tossing her

hair, hanging down on both shoulders, with her graceful head, she stands

still; and as she loftily casts around her haughty eyes, she says, “What

madness is this to prefer the inhabitants of Heaven, that you have

{only} heard of, to those who are seen? or why is Latona worshipped at

the altars, {and} my Godhead is still without its {due} frankincense?

Tantalus was my father, who alone was allowed to approach the tables of

the Gods above. The sister of the Pleiades[34] is my mother; the most

mighty Atlas is my grandsire, who bears the æthereal skies upon his

neck. Jupiter is my other grandsire; of him, too, I boast as my

father-in-law.[35] The Phrygian nations dread me; the palace of Cadmus

is subject to me as its mistress; and the walls that were formed by the

strings of my husband’s {lyre}, together with their people, are governed

by me and my husband; to whatever part of the house I turn my eyes,

immense wealth is seen. To this is added a face worthy of a Goddess. Add

to this my seven daughters,[36] and as many sons, and, at a future day,

sons-in-law and daughters-in-law. Now inquire what ground my pride has

{for its existence}; and presume to prefer Latona the Titaness, the

daughter of some obscure Cæus, to whom, when in travail,[37] the great

earth once refused a little spot, to myself. Neither by heaven, nor by

earth, nor by water, was your Goddess received; she was banished the

world, till Delos, pitying the wanderer, said, “Thou dost roam a

stranger on the land, I in the waves;” and gave her an unstable place

{of rest}. She was made the mother of two children, that is {but} the

seventh part of my issue. I am fortunate, and who shall deny it? and

fortunate I shall remain; who, too, can doubt of that? Plenty has made

me secure; I am too great for Fortune possibly to hurt; and, though she

should take away many things from me, {even then} much more will she

leave me: my {many} blessings have now risen superior to apprehensions.

Suppose it possible for some part of this multitude of my children to be

taken away {from me}; still, thus stripped, I shall not be reduced to

two, the number of Latona; an amount, by the number of which, how far,

{I pray}, is she removed from one that is childless? Go from the

sacrifice; hasten away from the sacrifice, and remove the laurel from

your hair!”

They remove it, and the sacrifice they leave unperformed; and what they

can do, they adore the Divinity in gentle murmurs. The Goddess was

indignant; and on the highest top of {Mount} Cynthus, she spoke to her

two children in such words as these: “Behold! I, your mother, proud of

having borne you, and who shall yield to no one of the Goddesses, except

to Juno {alone}, am called in question whether I am a Goddess, and, for

all future ages, I am driven from the altars devoted {to me}, unless you

give me aid. Nor is this my only grief; the daughter of Tantalus has

added abusive language to her shocking deeds, and has dared to postpone

you to her own children, and (what {I wish} may fall upon herself), she

has called me childless; and the profane {wretch} has discovered a

tongue like her father’s.”[38] To this relation Latona was going to add

entreaties, when Phœbus said, “Cease thy complaints, ’tis prolonging the

delay of her punishment.” Phœbe said the same; and, by a speedy descent

through the air, they arrived, covered with clouds, at the citadel of

Cadmus.

There was near the walls a plain, level, and extending far and wide,

trampled continually by horses, where multitudes of wheels and hard

hoofs had softened the clods placed beneath them. There, part of the

seven sons of Amphion are mounting upon their spirited steeds, and press

their backs, red with the Tyrian dye, and wield the reins heavy with

gold; of these, Ismenus, who had formerly been the first burden of his

mother, while he is guiding the steps of the horses in a perfect circle,

and is curbing their foaming mouths, cries aloud, “Ah, wretched me!”

and, pierced through the middle of his breast, bears a dart {therein};

and the reins dropping from his dying hand, by degrees he falls on his

side, over {the horse’s} shoulder. The next {to him}, Sipylus, on

hearing the sound of a quiver in the air, gives rein[39] {to his horse};

as when the pilot, sensible of the storm {approaching}, flies on seeing

a cloud, and unfurls the hanging sails on every side, that the light

breeze may by no means escape them. He gives rein, {I said}; while thus

giving it, the unerring dart overtakes him, and an arrow sticks

quivering in the top of his neck, and the bare steel protrudes from his

throat. He, as he is bending forward, rolls over the neck, {now} let

loose, and {over} the mane, and stains the ground with his warm blood.

The unhappy Phædimus, and Tantalus, the heir to the name of his

grandsire, when they had put an end to their wonted exercise {of

riding}, had turned to the youthful exercises of the palæstra, glowing

with oil;[40] and now had they brought[41] breast to breast, struggling

in a close grapple, when an arrow, sped onward from the stretched bow,

pierced them both, just as they were united together. At the same

instant they groaned aloud, and together they laid their limbs on the

ground, writhing with pain; together as they lay, for the last time,

they rolled their eyeballs, and together they breathed forth their life.

Alphenor sees this, and, beating his torn breast, flies to them, to lift

up their cold limbs in his embrace, and falls in this affectionate duty.

For the Delian God pierces the inner part of his midriff with the fatal

steel. Soon as it is pulled out, a part of his lungs is dragged forth on

the barbs, and his blood is poured forth, with his life, into the air;

but no single wound reaches the unshaven Damasicthon. He is struck where

the leg commences, and where the sinewy ham makes the space between the

joints soft; and while he is trying with his hand to draw out the fatal

weapon, another arrow is driven through his neck, up to the feathers.

The blood drives this out, and itself starting forth, springs up on

high, and, piercing the air, spouts forth afar. The last {of them},

Ilioneus, had raised his unavailing arms in prayer, and had said,

“O, all ye Gods, in common, (not knowing that all were not to be

addressed) spare me!” The {God}, the bearer of the bow, was moved, when

now his arrow could not be recalled; yet he died with the slightest

wound {of all}, his heart not being struck deep by the arrow.

The report of this calamity, and the grief of the people, and the tears

of her family, made the mother acquainted with a calamity so sudden,

wondering that it could have happened, and enraged that the Gods above

had dared this, {and} that they enjoyed a privilege so great. For

Amphion the father, thrusting his sword through his breast, dying, had

ended his grief together with his life. Alas! how different is this

Niobe from that Niobe who had lately driven the people from the altars

of Latona, and, with lofty head, had directed her steps through the

midst of the city, envied by her own people, but now to be pitied even

by an enemy! She falls down upon the cold bodies, and with no

distinction she distributes her last kisses among all her sons. Raising

her livid arms from these towards heaven, she says, “Glut thyself, cruel

Latona, with my sorrow; glut thyself, and satiate thy breast with my

mourning; satiate, too, thy relentless heart with seven deaths. I have

received my death-blow;[42] exult and triumph, my victorious enemy. But

why victorious? More remains to me, in my misery, than to thee, in thy

happiness. Even after so many deaths, I am the conqueror.” {Thus} she

spoke; {when} the string twanged from the bent bow, which affrighted all

but Niobe alone; she {became} bold by her misfortunes.

The sisters were standing in black array, with their hair dishevelled,

before the biers[43] of their brothers. One of these, drawing out the

weapon sticking in her entrails, about to die, swooned away, with her

face placed upon her brother. Another, endeavoring to console her

wretched parent, was suddenly silent, and was doubled together with an

invisible wound; and did not close her mouth, until after the breath had

departed. Another, vainly flying, falls down; another dies upon her

sister; another lies hid; another you might see trembling. And {now} six

being put to death, and having received different wounds, the last

{only} remains; her mother covering her with all her body, {and} with

all her garments, cries, “Leave me but one, and that the youngest; the

youngest only do I ask out of so many, and {that but} one.” And while

she was entreating, she, for whom she was entreating, was slain.

Childless, she sat down among her dead sons and daughters and husband,

and became hardened by her woes. The breeze moves no hair {of hers}; in

her features is a color without blood; her eyes stand unmoved in her sad

cheeks; in her form there is no {appearance} of life. Her tongue itself,

too, congeals within, together with her hardened palate, and the veins

cease to be able to be moved. Her neck can neither be bent, nor can her

arms give any motion, nor her feet move. Within her entrails, too, it is

stone.

Still did she weep on; and, enveloped in a hurricane of mighty wind, she

was borne away to her native land. There, fixed on the top of a

mountain,[44] she dissolves; and even yet does the marble distil tears.

[Footnote 31: _Had known her._--Ver. 148. This was the more

likely, as Tantalus, the father of Niobe, was king of both Phrygia

and Lydia.]

[Footnote 32: _Sipylus._--Ver. 149. This was the name of both a

city and a mountain of Lydia.]

[Footnote 33: _Go all of you._--Ver. 159. Clarke renders the words

‘Ismenides, ite frequentes,’ ‘Go, ye Theban ladies in general.’]

[Footnote 34: _Sister of the Pleiades._--Ver. 174. Taygete, one of

the Pleiades, was the mother of Niobe.]

[Footnote 35: _As my father-in-law._--Ver. 176. Because Jupiter

was the father of her husband, Amphion.]

[Footnote 36: _Seven daughters._--Ver. 182. Tzetzes enumerates

fourteen daughters of Niobe, and gives their names.]

[Footnote 37: _When in travail._--Ver. 187. She alludes to the

occasion on which Latona fled from the serpent Python, which Juno,

in her jealousy, had sent against her; and when Delos, which had

hitherto been a floating island, became immovable, for the

convenience of Latona, in labor with Apollo and Diana. That island

was said to have received its name from the Greek, δῆλος,

‘manifest,’ or ‘appearing,’ from having risen to the surface of

the sea on that occasion.]

[Footnote 38: _Like her father’s._--Ver. 213. Latona alludes to

one of the crimes of Tantalus, the father of Niobe, who was

accused of having indiscreetly divulged the secrets of the Gods.]

[Footnote 39: _Gives rein._--Ver. 230. This was done with the

intention of making his escape.]

[Footnote 40: _Glowing with oil._--Ver. 241. Clarke renders this

line, ‘Were gone to the juvenile work of neat wrestling.’ It would

be hard to say what ‘neat’ wrestling is. He seems not to have

known, that the ‘Palæstra’ was called ‘nitida,’ as shining with

the oil which the wrestlers used for making their limbs supple,

and the more difficult for their antagonist to grasp. Juvenal

gives the epithet ‘ceromaticum’ to the neck of the athlete, or

wrestler, which word means ‘rubbed with wrestler’s oil.’]

[Footnote 41: _Now had they brought._--Ver. 243-4. Clarke thus

translates ‘Et jam contulerant arcto luctantia nexu Pectora

pectoribus;’ ‘And now they had clapped breast to breast,

struggling in a close hug.’]

[Footnote 42: _I have received my death-blow._--Ver. 283.

‘Efferor’ literally means, ‘I am carried out.’ ‘Effero’ was the

term used to signify the carrying of the body out of the city

walls, for the purposes of burial.]

[Footnote 43: _Before the biers._--Ver. 289. The body of the

deceased person was in ancient times laid out on a bed of the

ordinary kind, with a pillow for supporting the head and back;

among the Romans, it was placed in the vestibule of the house,

with its feet towards the door, and was dressed in the best robe

which the deceased had worn when alive. Among the better classes,

the body was borne to the place of burial, or the funeral pile, on

a couch, which was called ‘feretrum,’ or ‘capulus.’ This was

sometimes made of ivory, and covered with gold and purple.]

[Footnote 44: _Top of a mountain._--Ver. 311. This was Mount

Sipylus, in Bœotia, which, as we learn from Pausanias, had on its

summit a rock, which, at a distance, strongly resembled a female

in an attitude of sorrow. This resemblance is said to exist even

at the present day.]

EXPLANATION.

All the ancient historians agree with Diodorus Siculus and

Apollodorus, that Niobe was the daughter of Tantalus, and the sister

of Pelops; but she must not be confounded with a second Niobe, who was

the daughter of Phoroneus, and the first mortal (Homer tells us) with

whom Jupiter fell in love. Homer says that she was the mother of

twelve children, six sons and six daughters. Herodotus says, that she

had but two sons and three daughters. Diodorus Siculus makes her the

mother of fourteen children, seven of each sex. Apollodorus, on the

authority of Hesiod, says, that she had ten sons and as many

daughters; but gives the names of fourteen only. The story of the

destruction of her children is most likely based upon truth, and bears

reference to a historical fact. The plague, which ravaged the city of

Thebes, destroyed all the children of Niobe; and contagious distempers

being attributed to the excessive heat of the sun, it was fabled that

Apollo had killed them with his arrows; while women, who died of the

plague, were said to owe their death to the anger of Diana. Thus,

Homer says, that Laodamia and the mother of Andromache were killed by

Diana. Valerius Flaccus relates the sorrow of Clytie, the wife of

Cyzicus, on the death of her mother, killed by the same Goddess; so

the Scholiast on Pindar (Pythia, ode iii.) says, on the authority of

Pherecydes, that Apollo sent Diana to kill Coronis and several other

women. Eustathius distinctly asserts, that the poets attributed the

deaths of men, who died of the plague, to Apollo; and those of women,

dying a similar death, to Diana.

This supposition is based upon rational and just grounds; since many

contagious distempers may be clearly traced to the exhalations of the

earth, acted on by the intense heat of the sun. Homer, most probably,

means this, when he says that the plague came upon the Grecian camp,

on the God, in his anger, discharging his arrows against it; or, in

other words, when the extreme heat of his rays had caused a corruption

of the atmosphere. It may be here observed, that arrows were the

symbol of Apollo, when angry, and the harp when he was propitious.

Diogenes Laertius tells us, that, during the prevalence of the plague,

it was the custom to place branches of laurel on the doors of the

houses, in the hope that the God, being reminded of Daphne, would

spare the places which thereby claimed his protection.

Ovid says, that the sons of Niobe were killed while managing their

horses; but Pausanias tells us that they died on Mount Cithæron, while

engaged in hunting, and that her daughters died at Thebes. Homer says,

that her children remained nine days without burial, because the Gods

changed the Thebans into stones, and that the offended Divinities

themselves performed the funeral rites on the tenth day; the meaning

probably, is, that, they dying of the plague, no one ventured to bury

them, and all seemed insensible to the sorrows of Niobe, as each

consulted his own safety. Ismenus, her eldest son, not being able to

endure the pain of his malady, is said to have thrown himself into a

river of Bœotia, which, from that circumstance, received his name.

After the death of her husband and children, Niobe is said to have

retired to Mount Sipylus, in Lydia, where she died. Here, as Pausanias

informs us, was a rock, resembling, at a distance, a woman overwhelmed

with grief; though according to the same author, who had visited it,

the resemblance could not be traced on approaching it. On this ground,

Ovid relates, that she was borne on a whirlwind to the top of a Lydian

mountain, where she was changed into a rock.

Pausanias tells us, that Melibœa, or Chloris, and Amycle, two of her

daughters, appeased Diana, who preserved their lives; or that, in

other words, they recovered from the plague; though he inclines to

credit the version of Homer, who says that all of her children died by

the hands of Apollo and Diana. Melibœa received the surname of

Chloris, from the paleness which ensued on her alarm at the sudden

death of her sisters.

FABLE III. [VI.313-381]

Latona, fatigued with the burden of her two children, during a long

journey, and parched with thirst, goes to drink at a pond, near which

some countrymen are at work. These clowns, in a brutal manner, not

only hinder her from drinking, but trouble the water to make it muddy;

on which, the Goddess, to punish their brutality, transforms them into

frogs.

But then, all, both women and men, dread the wrath of the divinity,

{thus} manifested, and with more zeal {than ever} all venerate with

{divine} worship the great godhead of the Deity who produced the twins;

and, as {commonly} happens, from a recent fact they recur to the

narration of former events.

One of them says, “Some countrymen of old, in the fields of fertile

Lycia, {once} insulted the Goddess, {but} not with impunity. The thing,

indeed, is but little known, through the obscure station of the

individuals, still it is wonderful. I have seen upon the spot, the pool

and the lake noted for the miracle. For my father being now advanced in

years, and incapable of travel, ordered me to bring thence some choice

oxen, and on my setting out, had given me a guide of that nation: with

whom, while I was traversing the pastures, behold! an ancient altar,

black with the ashes of sacrifices, was standing in the middle of a

lake, surrounded with quivering reeds. My guide stood still, and said in

a timid whisper, ‘Be propitious to me;’ and with a like whisper, I said,

‘Be propitious.’ However, I asked him whether it was an altar of the

Naiads, or of Faunus, or of some native God; when the stranger answered

me in such words; ‘Young man, there is no mountain Divinity for this

altar. She calls this her own, whom once the royal Juno banished from

the world; whom the wandering Delos, at the time when it was swimming as

a light island, hardly received at her entreaties. There Latona, leaning

against a palm, together with the tree of Pallas, brought forth twins,

in spite of their stepmother {Juno}. Hence, too, the newly delivered

{Goddess} is said to have fled from Juno, and in her bosom to have

carried the two divinities, her children. And now the Goddess, wearied

with her prolonged toil, being parched with the heat of the season,

contracted thirst in the country of Lycia, which bred the Chimæra[45]

when the intense sun was scorching the fields; the craving children,

too, had exhausted her suckling breasts. By chance she beheld a lake[46]

of fine water, in the bottom of a valley; some countrymen were there,

gathering bushy osiers, together with bulrushes, and sedge natural to

fenny spots. The Titaness approached, and bending her knee, she pressed

the ground, that she might take up the cool water to drink; the company

of rustics forbade it. The Goddess thus addressed them, as they forbade

her: ‘Why do you deny me water? The use of water is common {to all}.

Nature has made neither sun, nor air, nor the running stream, the

property of any one. To her public bounty have I come, which yet I

humbly beg of you to grant me. I was not intending to bathe my limbs

here, and my wearied joints, but to relieve my thirst. My mouth, as I

speak, lacks moisture, and my jaws are parched, and scarce is there a

passage for my voice therein; a draught of water will be nectar to me,

and I shall own, that, together with it, I have received my life {at

your hands}. In {that} water you will be giving me life. Let these, too,

move you, who hold out their little arms from my bosom’; and by chance

the children were holding out their arms.

“What person might not these kindly words of the Goddess have been able

to influence? Still, they persist in hindering {the Goddess thus}

entreating them; and moreover add threats and abusive language, if she

does not retire to a distance. Nor is this enough. They likewise muddy

the lake itself {with} their feet and hands; and they raise the soft mud

from the very bottom of the water, by spitefully jumping to and fro.

Resentment removes her thirst. For now no longer does the daughter of

Cæus supplicate the unworthy {wretches}, nor does she any longer endure

to utter words below {the majesty of} a Goddess; and raising her hands

to heaven, she says, ‘For ever may you live in that pool.’ The wish of

the Goddess comes to pass. They delight to go beneath the water, and

sometimes to plunge the whole of their limbs in the deep pool; now to

raise their heads, and now to swim on the top of the water; oft to sit

on the bank of the pool, {and} often to leap back again into the cold

stream. And even now do they exercise their offensive tongues in strife:

and banishing {all} shame, although they are beneath the water, {still}

beneath the water,[47] do they try to keep up their abuse. Their voice,

too, is now hoarse, and their bloated necks swell out; and their very

abuse dilates their extended jaws. Their backs are united to their

heads: their necks seem as though cut off; their backbone is green;

their belly, the greatest part of their body, is white; and {as}

new-made frogs, they leap about in the muddy stream.”

[Footnote 45: _The Chimæra._--Ver. 339. The Chimæra, according to

the poets, was a monster having the head of a lion, the body of a

goat, and the tail of a dragon. It seems, however, that it was

nothing more than a volcanic mountain of Lycia, in Asia Minor,

whence there were occasional eruptions of flame. The top of it was

frequented by lions; the middle afforded plentiful pasture for

goats; and towards the bottom, being rocky, and full of caverns,

it was infested by vast numbers of serpents, that harbored there.]

[Footnote 46: _Beheld a lake._--Ver. 343. Probus, in his

Commentary on the Second Book of the Georgics, says that the name

of the spring was Mela, and that of the shepherd who so churlishly

repulsed Latona, was Neocles. Antoninus Liberalis says, that the

name of the stream was Melites, and that Latona required the water

for the purpose of bathing her children. He further tells us, that

on being repulsed, she carried her children to the river Xanthus,

and returning thence, hurled stones at the peasants, and changed

them into frogs.]

[Footnote 47: _Beneath the water._--Ver. 376. Some commentators

are so fanciful as to say, that the repetition of the words ‘sub

aqua,’ in the line ‘Quamvis sint sub aquâ, sub aquâ, maledicere

tentant,’ not inelegantly [non ineleganter] expresses the croaking

noise of the frogs. A man’s fancy must, indeed, be exuberant to

find any such resemblance; more so, indeed, than that of

Aristophanes, who makes his frogs say, by way of chorus,

‘brekekekekex koäx koäx.’ Possibly, however, that might have been

the Attic dialect among frogs.]

EXPLANATION.

This story may possibly be based upon some current tradition of Latona

having been subjected to such cruel treatment from some country

clowns; or, which is more probable, it may have been originally

invented as a satire on the rude manners and uncouth conduct of the

peasantry of ancient times. The story may also have been framed, to

account, in a poetical manner, for the origin of frogs.

FABLE IV. [VI.382-411]

The Satyr Marsyas, having challenged Apollo to a trial of skill on the

flute, the God overcomes him, and then flays him alive for his

presumption. The tears that are shed on the occasion of his death

produce the river that bears his name.

When thus one, who, it is uncertain, had related the destruction of

{these} men of the Lycian race, another remembers {that of} the

Satyr;[48] whom, overcome {in playing} on the Tritonian reed, the son of

Latona visited with punishment. “Why,” said he, “art thou tearing me

from myself? Alas! I {now} repent; alas,” cried he, “the flute is not of

so much value!” As he shrieked aloud, his skin was stript[49] off from

the surface of his limbs, nor was he aught but {one entire} wound. Blood

is flowing on every side; the nerves, exposed, appear, and the quivering

veins throb without any skin. You might have numbered his palpitating

bowels, and the transparent lungs within his breast. The inhabitants of

the country, the Fauns, Deities of the woods, and his brothers the

Satyrs, and Olympus,[50] even then renowned, and the Nymphs lamented

him; and whoever {besides} on those mountains was feeding the

wool-bearing flocks, and the horned herds.

The fruitful earth was moistened, and being moistened received the

falling tears, and drank them up in her lowest veins, which, when she

had turned into a stream, she sent forth into the vacant air. And then,

as the clearest river in Phrygia, running towards the rapid sea within

steep banks, it bears the name of Marsyas.

From narratives such as these the people return at once to the present

events, and mourn Amphion extinct together with {all} his race. The

mother is {an object} of hatred. Yet {her brother} Pelops is said alone

to have mourned for her as well; and after he had drawn his clothes from

his shoulder towards his breast, he discovered the ivory on his left

shoulder. This shoulder, at the time of his birth, was of the same color

with the right one, and {was} formed of flesh. They say that the Gods

afterwards joined his limbs cut asunder by the hands of his father; and

the rest of them being found, that part which is midway between the

throat and the top of the arm, was wanting. Ivory was inserted there, in

the place of the part that did not appear; and so by that means Pelops

was made entire.

[Footnote 48: _The Satyr._--Ver. 382. Herodotus tells this story

of the Satyr Marsyas, under the name of Silenus. Fulgentius

informs us, that in paintings, Marsyas was represented with the

tail of a pig.]

[Footnote 49: _His skin was stript._--Ver. 387. Apollo fastened

him to a pine-tree, or, according to Pliny the Elder,

a plane-tree, which was to be seen even in his day. The skin was

afterwards suspended by Apollo in the city of Celenæ. Hyginus

says, that Apollo hewed Marsyas to pieces. The description here of

the flaying is, perhaps, very natural; but it is all the more

disgusting for being so. A commentator justly says, that it might

suit a Roman, whose eyes were familiar with bloodshed, much better

than the taste of the reader of modern times.]

[Footnote 50: _Olympus._--Ver. 393. He was a Satyr, the brother

and pupil of Marsyas. Pausanias describes a picture, painted by

Polygnotus, in which Olympus was represented as sitting by

Marsyas, clad as a youth, and learning to play on the flute.

Euripides, in the Iphigenia in Aulis (l. 576) says that Olympus

discovered some new measures for the ‘tibia,’ or flute. From

Hyginus we learn, that Apollo delivered to him the body of Marsyas

for burial.]

EXPLANATION.

Marsyas was the son of Hyagnis, the inventor of a peculiar kind of

flute, and of the Phrygian measure. Livy and Quintus Curtius tell us,

that the story of Apollo and Marsyas is an allegory; and that the

river Marsyas gave rise to it. They say that the river, falling from a

precipice, in the neighborhood of the town of Celenæ, in Phrygia, made

a very stunning and unpleasant noise; but that the smoothness of its

course afterwards gave occasion for the saying, that the vengeance of

Apollo had rendered it more tractable.

It is, however, not improbable that the story may have been based on

historical facts. Having learned from his father, Hyagnis, the art of

playing on the flute, and, proud of his skill, at a time when the

musical art was yet in its infancy, Marsyas may have been rash enough

to challenge either a priest of Apollo, or some prince who bore that

name, and, for his presumption, to have received the punishment

described by Ovid. Herodotus certainly credited the story; for he says

that the skin of the unfortunate musician was to be seen, in his time,

in the town of Celenæ. Strabo, Pausanias, and Aulus Gellius also

believe its truth. Suidas tells us, that Marsyas, mortified at his

defeat, threw himself into the river that runs near Celenæ, which,

from that time, bore his name. Strabo says, that Marsyas had stolen

the flute from Minerva, which proved so fatal to him, and had thereby

drawn upon himself the indignation of that Divinity. Ovid, in the

Sixth Book of the Fasti, and Pausanias, quoting from Apollodorus, tell

us, that Minerva, having observed, by seeing herself in the river

Meander, that, when she played on the flute, her cheeks were swelled

out in an unseemly manner, threw aside the flute in her disgust, and

Marsyas finding it, learned to play on it so skilfully, that he

challenged Apollo to a trial of proficiency. Hyginus, in his 165th

Fable, says that Marsyas was the son of Œagrius, and not Hyagnis;

perhaps, however, this is a corrupt reading.

FABLE V. [VI.412-586]

Tereus, king of Thrace, having married Progne, the daughter of

Pandion, king of Athens, falls in love with her sister Philomela, whom

he ravishes, and then, having cut out her tongue, he shuts her up in a

strong place in a forest, to prevent a discovery. The unfortunate

Philomela finds means to acquaint her sister with her misfortunes;

for, weaving her story on a piece of cloth, she sends it to Progne by

the hands of one of her keepers.

The neighboring princes met together; and the cities that were near,

entreated their kings to go to console {Pelops, namely}, Argos and

Sparta, and the Pelopean Mycenæ, and Calydon,[51] not yet odious to the

stern Diana, and fierce Orchomeneus, and Corinth famous for its

brass,[52] and fertile Messene, and Patræ, and humble Cleonæ,[53] and

the Neleian Pylos, and Trœzen not yet named from Pittheus;[54] and other

cities which are enclosed by the Isthmus between the two seas, and those

which, situated beyond, are seen from the Isthmus between the two seas.

Who could have believed it? You, Athens, alone omitted it. A war

prevented this act of humanity; and barbarous troops[55] brought

{thither} by sea, were alarming the Mopsopian walls. The Thracian Tereus

had routed these by his auxiliary forces, and by his conquest had

acquired an illustrious name. Him, powerful both in riches and men, and,

as it happened, deriving his descent from the mighty Gradivus, Pandion

united to himself, by the marriage of {his daughter} Progne.

Neither Juno, the guardian of marriage rites, nor yet Hymeneus, nor the

Graces,[56] attended those nuptials. {On that occasion}, the Furies

brandished torches, snatched from the funeral pile. The Furies prepared

the nuptial couch, and the ill-boding owl hovered over the abode, and

sat on the roof of the bridal chamber. With these omens were Progne and

Tereus wedded; with these omens were they made parents. Thrace, indeed,

congratulated them, and they themselves returned thanks to the Gods, and

they commanded the day, upon which the daughter of Pandion was given to

the renowned prince, and that upon which Itys was born, to be considered

as festivals. So much does our true interest lie concealed {from us}.

Now Titan had drawn the seasons of the repeated year through five

autumns, when Progne, in gentle accents, said to her husband, “If I have

any influence {with thee}, either send me to see my sister, or let my

sister come hither. Thou shalt promise thy father-in-law that she shall

return in a short time. As good as a mighty God {wilt thou be} to me, if

thou shalt allow me to see my sister.”

He {thereupon} ordered ships to be launched;[57] and with sails and oars

he entered the Cecropian harbor, and landed upon the shores of the

Piræus.[58] As soon as ever an opportunity was given of {addressing} his

father-in-law, and right hand was joined to right hand, with evil omen

their discourse began. He had commenced to relate the occasion of his

coming, {and} the request of his wife, and to promise a speedy return

for {Philomela, if} sent. {When} lo! Philomela comes, richly adorned in

costly apparel; richer {by far} in her charms; such as we hear {of} the

Naiads and Dryads {as they} haunt the middle of the forests, if you were

only to give them the like ornaments and dress. Tereus was inflamed upon

seeing the virgin, no otherwise than if one were to put fire beneath the

whitening ears of corn, or were to burn leaves and {dry} grass laid up

in stacks. Her beauty, indeed, is worthy {of love}; but inbred lust, as

well, urges him on, and the people in those regions are {naturally} much

inclined to lustfulness. He burns, both by his own frailty and that of

his nation. He has a desire to corrupt the care of her attendants, and

the fidelity of her nurse, and {besides}, to tempt herself with large

presents, and to spend his whole kingdom {in so doing}; or else, to

seize her, and, when seized, to secure her by a cruel war. And there is

nothing which, being seized by an unbridled passion, he may not dare;

nor does his breast contain the internal flame. And now he ill bears

with delay; and with eager mouth returns to {urge} the request of

Progne, and under it he pleads his own wishes; passion makes him

eloquent. As oft as he presses beyond what is becoming, he pretends

that Progne has thus desired. He adds tears as well, as though she had

enjoined them too. O ye Gods above, how much of dark night do the

breasts of mortals contain! Through his very attempt at villany, Tereus

is thought to be affectionate, and from his crime does he gather praise.

And how is it, too, that Philomela desires the same thing? and fondly

embracing the shoulders of her father with her arms, she begs, even by

her own safety (and against it too), that she may visit her sister.

Tereus views her, and, while viewing her, is embracing her beforehand in

imagination; and, as he beholds her kisses, and her arms around {her

father’s} neck, he receives them all as incentives, and fuel, and the

food of his furious passion; and, as often as she embraces her father,

he could wish to be {that} father, and, even then, he would have been

not the less impious. The father is overcome by the entreaties of them

both. She rejoices, and returns thanks to her parent, and, to her

misfortune, deems that the success of both, which will be the cause of

sorrow to them both. Now but little of his toil was remaining for

Phœbus, and his steeds were beating with their feet the descending track

of Olympus; a regal banquet was set on the tables, and wine in golden

{vessels}; after this, their bodies were given up to gentle sleep. But

the Odrysian king,[59] though he was withdrawn, still burned for her;

and, recalling her form, her movements, her hands, fancies that which he

has not yet seen, to be such as he wishes; and he himself feeds his own

flames, his anxiety preventing sleep.

It was {now} day; and Pandion, grasping the right hand of his

son-in-law, about to depart, with tears bursting forth, recommended his

companion {to his care}. “I commit her, my dear son-in-law, to thee,

because reasons, grounded on affection, have compelled me, and both {my

daughters} have desired it, and thou as well, Tereus, hast wished it;

and I entreat thee, begging by thy honor, by thy breast {thus} allied to

us, {and} by the Gods above, to protect her with the love of a father;

and do send back to me, as soon as possible, this sweet comfort of my

anxious old age, {for} all delay will be tedious to me, and do thou,

too, Philomela, if thou hast any affection for me, return as soon as

possible: ’tis enough that thy sister is so far away.” {Thus} did he

enjoin, and at the same time he gave kisses to his daughter, and his

affectionate tears fell amid his instructions. He {then} demanded the

right hands of them both, as a pledge of their fidelity, and joined them

together when given, and bade them, with mindful lips, to salute for him

his absent daughter and grandson, and with difficulty[60] uttered the

last farewell, his mouth being filled with sobs; and he shuddered at the

presages of his own mind. But as soon as Philomela was put on board of

the painted ship, and the sea was urged by the oars, and the land was

left behind, he exclaimed, “I have gained my point; the object of my

desires is borne along with me.” The barbarian exults, too, and with

difficulty defers his joy in his intention, and turns not his eyes

anywhere away from her. No otherwise than when the ravenous bird of

Jupiter, with crooked talons, has placed a hare in his lofty nest; there

is no escape for the captive; the plunderer keeps his eye on his prey.

And now the voyage is ended, and now they have gone forth from the

wearied ship, upon his own shore; when the king drags the daughter of

Pandion into a lofty dwelling, concealed in an ancient wood, and there

he shuts her up, pale and trembling, and dreading everything, and now

with tears inquiring where her sister is; and confessing his baseness,

he masters by force her a maiden, and but one, while she often vainly

calls on her father, often on her sister, and on the great Gods above

all. She trembles like a frightened lamb, which, wounded, being snatched

from the mouth of a hoary wolf, does not as yet seem to itself in

safety; and as a dove, its feathers soaked with its own blood, still

trembles, and dreads the ravening talons wherein it has been {lately}

held. {But} soon, when consciousness returned, tearing her dishevelled

hair like one mourning, and beating her arms in lamentation, stretching

out her hands, she said, “Oh, barbarous {wretch}, for thy dreadful

deeds; oh, cruel {monster}! have neither the requests of my father, with

his affectionate tears, moved thee, nor a regard for my sister, nor my

virgin state, nor the laws of marriage? Thou hast confounded all. I am

become the supplanter of my sister; thou, the husband of both of us.

This punishment was not my due. Why dost thou not take away this life,

that no villany, perfidious {wretch}, may remain {unperpetrated} by

thee? and would that thou hadst done it before thy criminal embraces!

{then} I might have had a shade void of {all} crime. Yet, if the Gods

above behold these things, if the majesty of the Gods be anything; if,

with myself, all things are not come to ruin; one time or other thou

shalt give me satisfaction. I myself, having cast shame aside, will

declare thy deeds. If opportunity is granted me, I will come among the

people; if I shall be kept imprisoned in the woods, I will fill the

woods, and will move the conscious rocks. Let Heaven hear these things,

and the Gods, if there are any in it.”

After the wrath of the cruel tyrant was aroused by such words, and his

fear was not less than it, urged on by either cause, he drew the sword,

with which he was girt, from the sheath, and seizing her by the hair,

her arms being bent behind her back, he compelled her to submit to

chains. Philomela was preparing her throat, and, on seeing the sword,

had conceived hopes of her death. He cut away, with his cruel weapon,

her tongue seized with pincers, while giving vent to her indignation,

and constantly calling on the name of her father, and struggling to

speak. The extreme root of the tongue {still} quivers. {The tongue}

itself lies, and faintly murmurs, quivering upon the black earth; and as

the tail of a mangled snake is wont to writhe about, {so} does it throb,

and, as it dies, seeks the feet of its owner. It is said, too, that

often after this crime (I could hardly dare believe it) he satisfied his

lust upon her mutilated body.

He has the effrontery, after such deeds, to return to Progne, who, on

seeing her husband, inquires for her sister; but he heaves feigned

sighs, and tells a fictitious story of her death; and his tears procure

him credit. Progne tears from her shoulders her robes, shining with

broad gold, and puts on black garments, and erects an honorary

sepulchre, and offers expiation to an imaginary shade; and laments the

death of a sister not thus to be lamented.

The God {Apollo}, the year being completed, had run through the twice

six signs {of the Zodiac}. What can Philomela do? A guard prevents her

flight; the walls of the house are hard, built of solid stone: her

speechless mouth is deprived of the means of discovering the crime. But

in grief there is extreme ingenuity, and inventive skill arises in

misfortunes. She skilfully suspends the warp in a web of Barbarian

design,[61] and interweaves purple marks with white, as a mode of

discovering the villany {of Tereus}; and delivers it, when finished, to

one {of her attendants}, and begs her, by signs, to carry it to her

mistress. As desired, she carries it to Progne, and does not know what

she is delivering in it. The wife of the savage tyrant unfolds the web,

and reads the mournful tale[62] of her sister, and (wondrous that she

can be so!) she is silent. ’Tis grief that stops her utterance, and

words sufficiently indignant fail her tongue, in want of them; nor is

there room for weeping. But she rushes onward, about to confound both

right and wrong, and is wholly {occupied} in the contrivance of revenge.

[Footnote 51: _Calydon._--Ver. 415. This was a city of Ætolia,

which derived its name from Calydon, the son of Endymion. Diana,

being incensed against Œneus, its king, because he omitted her

when offering the first fruits to the other Deities, sent an

immense boar to ravage its fields, which was slain by Meleager.

Ovid recounts these circumstances in the eighth book of the

Metamorphoses. Argos, Sparta, and Mycenæ, are also included in one

line, by Homer, as having been under the particular tutelage of

Juno.]

[Footnote 52: _Famous for its brass._--Ver. 416. According to some

writers, the Corinthian brass became famous after the fall of

Corinth, when it was taken and burnt by the Consul Mummius. On

that occasion, they say, that from the immense number of statues

melted in the conflagration, a stream of metal poured through the

streets, consisting of melted gold, silver, and copper; in which,

of course, the latter would be predominant. If that was the ground

on which the Corinthian brass was so much commended, Ovid is here

guilty of an anachronism.]

[Footnote 53: _Cleonæ._--Ver. 417. This was a little town, situate

between Argos and Corinth. It is called ‘humilis,’ not from its

situation, but from the small number of its inhabitants. Patræ was

a city of Achaia.]

[Footnote 54: _Pittheus._--Ver. 418. He was the uncle of Theseus;

and was (after the time here mentioned) the king of Trœzen, in

Peloponnesus.]

[Footnote 55: _Barbarous troops._--Ver. 423. Some suggest that it

is here meant that Attica was invaded by the Amazons at this time;

and they rely on a passage of Justin in support of the position.

The story is, however, very improbable.]

[Footnote 56: _The Graces._--Ver. 429. The Graces, who were the

attendants of Venus, were three in number, Aglaia, Thalia, and

Euphrosyne.]

[Footnote 57: _To be launched._--Ver. 445. The ships were launched

into the sea by means of rollers placed beneath them, from which

circumstance they were said ‘deduci,’ ‘to be led down.’]

[Footnote 58: _Shores of the Piræus._--Ver. 446. The Piræus was

the arsenal and the harbor of the Athenians, and owed its

magnificence to the vast conceptions of Themistocles.]

[Footnote 59: _The Odrysian king._--Ver. 490. Tereus is thus

called, from the Odrysæ, a people of Thrace.]

[Footnote 60: _With difficulty._--Ver. 510. Clarke translates

‘vix,’ ‘with much ado.’]

[Footnote 61: _Barbarian design._--Ver. 576. Probably of a

Phrygian design.]

[Footnote 62: _The mournful tale._--Ver. 582. This line is

translated by Clarke, ‘And reads the miserable ditty of her

sister.’]

EXPLANATION.

The gravest authors among the ancients, such as Strabo and Pausanias,

speaking of this tragical story, agree that the narrative, divested of

its poetical ornaments, is strictly conformable to truth; though, of

course, the sequel bears evident marks of embellishment either by the

fancy of the Poet, or the superstition of the vulgar.

FABLE VI. [VI.587-676]

Progne delivers her sister Philomela from captivity, and brings her to

the court of Tereus, where she revolves in her mind her different

projects of revenge. Her son Itys, in the meantime, comes into her

apartment, and is murdered by his mother and aunt. Progne afterwards

serves him up at a feast, which she prepares for her husband; on

which, being obliged to fly from the fury of the enraged king, she is

changed into a swallow, Philomela into a nightingale, and Tereus

himself into a lapwing.

It is {now} the time[63] when the Sithonian[64] matrons are wont to

celebrate the triennial festival of Bacchus. Night is conscious of their

rites; by night Rhodope resounds with the tinklings of the shrill

cymbal. By night the queen goes out of her house, and is arrayed

according to the rites of the God, and carries the arms of the frantic

solemnity. Her head is covered with vine leaves; from her left side hang

down the skins of a deer;[65] upon her shoulder rests a light spear.

{Then} the terrible Progne rushing through the woods, a multitude of her

followers attending her, and agitated by the fury of her resentment,

pretends, Bacchus, that it is {inspired} by thee.

She comes at length to the lonely dwelling, and howls aloud, and cries

“Evoë!” and breaks open the gates, and seizes her sister, and puts upon

her, {so} seized, the badges of Bacchus, and conceals her countenance

under the foliage of ivy; and dragging her along, full of amazement,

leads her within her threshold. When Philomela perceives that she has

arrived at that accursed house,[66] the wretched woman shudders, and

paleness spreads over her whole face. Progne having {now} got a

{fitting} place {for so doing}, takes away the symbols of the rites,[67]

and unveils the blushing face of her wretched sister; and holds her in

her embraces. But she, on the other hand, cannot endure to lift up her

eyes; seeming to herself the supplanter of her sister, and fixing her

looks on the ground, her hand is in the place of voice to her, as she

desires to swear and to call the Gods to witness that this disgrace has

been brought upon her by violence. Progne burns {with rage}, and

contains not her anger; and checking the grief of her sister, she says,

“We must not act in this matter with tears, but with the sword, {and

even} with anything, if {such} thou hast, that can possibly outdo the

sword. I have, sister, prepared myself for every crime! Either, when I

shall have set fire to the royal palace with torches, I will throw the

artful Tereus into the midst of the flames, or with the steel will I cut

away his tongue or his eyes, or the members that have deprived thee of

thy chastity, or by a thousand wounds will I expel his guilty soul {from

his body}. Something tremendous am I prepared for; what it is, I am

still in doubt.”

While Progne was uttering such expressions, Itys came to his mother. By

him she was put in mind of what she might do; and looking at him with

vengeful eyes, she said, “Ah! how like thou art to thy father!” And

saying no more, she prepared for a horrible deed, and burned with silent

rage. Yet when her son came to her, and saluted his mother and drew her

neck {towards him} with his little arms, and added kisses mingled with

childish endearments, the mother, in truth, was moved, and her anger

abated, and her eyes, in spite of her, became wet with tears {thus}

forced {from her}. But soon as she found the mother {in her} shrinking

from excess of affection, from him again did she turn towards the

features of her sister; and looking at them both by turns, she said,

“Why does the one employ endearments, {while} the other is silent with

her tongue torn from her? Why does she not call her sister, whom he

calls mother? Consider to what kind of husband thou art married,

daughter of Pandion. Thou dost grow degenerate. Tenderness in the wife

of Tereus is criminality.” No {more} delay {is there}; she drags Itys

along, just as the tigress of the banks of the Ganges {does} the

suckling offspring of the hind, through the shady forests. And when they

are come to a remote part of the lofty house, Progne strikes[68] him

with the sword, extending his hands, and as he beholds his fate, crying

now “Alas!” and now “My mother!” and clinging to her neck, where his

breast joins his side; nor does she turn away her face. Even one wound

{alone} is sufficient for his death; Philomela cuts his throat with the

sword; and they mangle his limbs, still quivering and retaining somewhat

of life. Part of them boils,[69] in the hollow cauldrons; part hisses on

spits; the inmost recesses stream with gore. His wife sets Tereus, in

his unconsciousness, before this banquet; and falsely pretending rites

after the manner of her country, at which it is allowed one man only to

be present, she removes his attendants and servants. Tereus himself,

sitting aloft on the throne of his forefathers, eats and heaps his own

entrails into his own stomach. And so great is the blindness of his

mind, {that} he says, “Send for Itys.” Progne is unable to conceal her

cruel joy; and now, desirous to be the discoverer of her having murdered

him, she says, “Thou hast within {thee}, that for which thou art

asking.” He looks around, and inquires where he is; as he inquires, and

calls him again, Philomela springs forth, just as she is, with her hair

disordered by the infernal murder, and throws the bloody head of Itys in

the face of his father; nor at any time has she more longed to be able

to speak, and to testify her joy by words such as are deserved.

The Thracian pushes from him the table with a loud cry, and summons the

Viperous sisters[70] from the Stygian valley; and at one moment he

desires, if he {only} can, by opening his breast to discharge thence the

horrid repast, and the half-digested entrails. And then he weeps, and

pronounces himself the wretched sepulchre of his own son; and then he

follows the daughters of Pandion with his drawn sword. You would have

thought the bodies of the Cecropian[71] Nymphs were supported by wings;

{and} they were supported by wings. The one of them makes for the woods,

the other takes her place beneath the roofs {of houses}. Nor {even} as

yet have the marks of murder withdrawn from her breast; and her feathers

are {still} stained with blood. He, made swift by his grief, and his

desire for revenge, is turned into a bird, upon whose head stands a

crested {plume}; a prolonged bill projects in place of the long spear.

The name of the bird is ‘epops’ [{lapwing}]; its face appears to be

armed. This affliction dispatched Pandion to the shades of Tartarus

before his day, and the late period of protracted old age.

[Footnote 63: _Now the time._--Ver. 587. This was the festival of

Bacchus, before mentioned as being celebrated every three years,

in memory of his Indian expedition.]

[Footnote 64: _Sithonian._--Ver. 588. Sithonia was a region of

Thrace, which lay between Mount Hæmus and the Euxine sea. The

word, however, is often used to signify the whole of Thrace.]

[Footnote 65: _Skins of a deer._--Ver. 593. These were the

‘nebrides,’ or skins of fawns and deer, which the Bacchanals wore

when celebrating the orgies. The lance mentioned here was, no

doubt, the thyrsus.]

[Footnote 66: _That accursed house._--Ver. 601. Clarke translates

this line, ‘As soon as Philomela perceived she had got into the

wicked rogue’s house.’]

[Footnote 67: _Symbols of the rites._--Ver. 603. These were the

ivy, the deer-skins, and the thyrsus.]

[Footnote 68: _Progne strikes._--Ver. 641. ‘Ense ferit Progne’ is

translated by Clarke, ‘Progne strikes with the sword poor Itys.’]

[Footnote 69: _Part of them boils._--Ver. 645-6. Clarke gives this

comical translation: ‘Then part of them bounces about in hollow

kettles; part hisses upon spits; the parlor runs down with gore.’]

[Footnote 70: _Viperous sisters._--Ver. 662. Tereus invokes the

Furies, who are thus called from having their hair wreathed with

serpents. Clarke translates, ‘ingenti clamore,’ in line 661, ‘with

a huge cry.’]

[Footnote 71: _Cecropian._--Ver. 667. The Cecropian or Athenian

Nymphs are Progne and Philomela, the daughters of Pandion, king of

Athens.]

EXPLANATION.

By the symbolical changes of Philomela, Progne, and Tereus, those who

framed this termination of the story intended to depict the different

characters of the persons whose actions are there represented. As the

lapwing delights in filth and impurity, the ancients thereby portrayed

the unscrupulous character of Tereus; and, as the flight of that bird

is but slow, it shows that he was not able to overtake his wife and

her sister. The nightingale, concealed in the woods and thickets,

seems there to be concealing her misfortunes and sorrows; and the

swallow, which frequents the abodes of man, shows the restlessness of

Progne, who seeks in vain for her son, whom, in her frantic fit, she

has so barbarously murdered.

Anacreon and Apollodorus, however, reverse the story, saying that

Philomela was changed into a swallow, and Progne into a nightingale.

This event is said by some writers to have happened not in Thrace, but

at Daulis, a town of Phocis, where Tereus is supposed to have gone to

settle. Pausanias tells us, that the tomb of Tereus was to be seen

near Athens, so that it is probable that he died at a distance from

Thrace, his native country. Homer alludes to the story of Philomela in

somewhat different terms; speaking of the grounds of the grief of

Penelope, he says, that ‘she made her complaints to be heard like the

inconsolable Philomela, the daughter of Pandarus, always hidden among

the leaves and branches of trees. When the Spring arrives, she makes

her voice echo through the woods, and laments her dear Itylus, whom

she killed by an unhappy mistake; varying, in her continued plaints,

the mournful melody of her notes.’ By this, Homer seems to have known

nothing of Tereus or of Progne, and to have followed a tradition,

which was to the following effect:--Pandarus had three daughters,

Ædon, Mecrope, and Cleothera. Ædon, the eldest, was married to Zethus,

the brother of Amphion, by whom she had one son, who was named Itylus.

Envying the more numerous family of Niobe, her sister-in-law, she

resolved to despatch the eldest of her nephews; and, as her son was

brought up with his cousin, and was his bedfellow, she bade him change

his place in the bed, on the night on which she intended to commit the

crime. Itylus forgot her commands, and consequently his mother killed

him by mistake for her nephew.

FABLE VII. [VI.677-721]

Boreas, not obtaining the consent of Erectheus, king of Athens, for

the marriage of his daughter, Orithyïa, takes that princess in his

arms, and carries her away into Thrace. By her he has two sons, Calaïs

and Zethes, who have wings, like their father, and afterwards embark

with Jason in search of the Golden Fleece.

Erectheus[72] received the sceptre of {that} country, and the government

of the state; it is a matter of doubt whether he was more powerful

through his justice, or by his mighty arms. He had, indeed, begotten

four sons, and as many of the female sex: but the beauty of two {of

them} was equal. Of these, Cephalus,[73] the son of Æolus, was blessed

with thee, Procris, for his wife; Tereus and the Thracians were an

obstacle to Boreas; and long was {that} God without his much-loved

Orithyïa, while he was entreating, and choosing rather to use prayers

than force. But when nothing was effected by blandishments, terrible

with that rage which is his wont, and but too natural with that wind, he

said, “And {this is} deservedly {done}; for why did I relinquish my own

weapons, my violence, my strength, my anger, and my threatening spirit,

and turn to prayers, the employment of which ill becomes me? Violence is

suitable for me; by violence do I dispel the lowering clouds, by

violence do I arouse the seas, and overthrow the knotted oaks, and

harden the snow, and beat the earth with hail. I too, when I have met

with my brothers in the open air (for that is {peculiarly} my field),

struggle with efforts so great, that the intermediate sky thunders again

with our onset, and fires flash, struck forth from the hollow clouds.

I too, when I have descended into the hollow recesses of the earth, and

in my rage have placed my back against its lowest depths, disturb the

shades below, and the whole globe with earthquakes. By these means

should I have sought this alliance; and Erectheus ought not to have been

entreated {to be} my father-in-law, but made so by force.”

Boreas, having said these words, or some not less high-sounding than

these, shakes his wings, by the motion of which all the earth is fanned,

and the wide sea becomes ruffled; and the lover, drawing his dusty

mantle over the high tops {of mountains}, sweeps the ground, and, wrapt

in darkness, embraces with his tawny wings Orithyïa, as she trembles

with fear. As she flies, his flame, being agitated, burns more fiercely.

Nor does the ravisher check the reins of his airy course, before he

reaches the people and the walls of the Ciconians.[74] There, too, is

the Actæan damsel made the wife of the cold sovereign, and {afterwards}

a mother, bringing forth twins at a birth, who have the wings of their

father, the rest {like} their mother. Yet they say that these {wings}

were not produced together with their bodies; and while their long

beard, with its yellow hair, was away, the boys Calaïs and Zethes were

without feathers. {But} soon after, at once wings began to enclose both

their sides, after the manner of birds, and at once their cheeks {began}

to grow yellow {with down}. When, therefore, the boyish season of youth

was passed, they sought,[75] with the Minyæ, along the sea {before}

unmoved,[76] in the first ship {that existed}, the fleece that glittered

with shining hair {of gold}.

[Footnote 72: _Erectheus._--Ver. 677. This personage really was

king of Athens before Pandion, the father of Progne and Philomela,

and not after him, as Ovid here states; at least, such is the

account given by Pausanias and Eusebius: the order of succession

being Actæus, Cecrops, Cranaüs, Amphictyon, Erecthonius, Pandion,

Erectheus, Cecrops II., Pandion II., Ægeus, Theseus.]

[Footnote 73: _Cephalus._--Ver. 681. He was the son of Deioneus,

and the grandson of Æolus. According to some writers, he was the

son of Mercury; in and the Art of Love (Book iii. l. 725) he is

called ‘Cyllenia proles.’ Strabo says that he was the son-in-law

of Deioneus. His story is related at length in the next Book.]

[Footnote 74: _The Ciconians._--Ver. 710. The Cicones were a

people of Thrace, living near Mount Ismarus, and the Bistonian

lake.]

[Footnote 75: _They sought._--Ver. 720. This was the fleece of the

ram that carried Phryxus along the Hellespont to Colchis, which is

mentioned again in the next Book.]

[Footnote 76: _Before unmoved._--Ver. 721. This passage may mean

that that part of the sea had not been navigated before; though

many of the poets assert that the Argo was the first ship that was

ever built. It is more probable that it was the first vessel that

was ever fitted out as a ship of war.]

EXPLANATION.

Plato tells us that the story of the rape of Orithyïa is but an

allegory, which signifies that, by accident, she was blown by the wind

into the sea, where she was drowned. Apollodorus and Pausanias,

however, assert that this story is based on historical facts, and that

Boreas, king of Thrace, seized Orithyïa, the daughter of Erectheus,

king of Athens, and sister of Procris, as she was passing the river

Ilissus, and carried her into his dominions, where she became the

mother of twins, Calaïs and Zethes. In the Argonautic expedition,

these chiefs delivered Phineus, the king of Bithynia, from the

persecution of the Harpies, which were in the habit of snatching away

the victuals served up at his table.

BOOK THE SEVENTH.

FABLE I. [VII.1-158]

Jason, after having met with various adventures, arrives with the

Argonauts in Colchis, and demands the Golden Fleece. Medea falls in

love with Jason, and by the power of her enchantments preserves him

from the dangers he has to encounter in obtaining it. He obtains the

prize, and carrying off Medea, returns in triumph to Thessaly.

And now the Minyæ[1] were ploughing the sea in the Pagasæan ship;[2] and

Phineus prolonging a needy old age under perpetual night, had been

visited, and the youthful sons of the North wind had driven the birds

with the faces of virgins from {before} the mouth of the distressed old

man;[3] and having suffered many things under the famous Jason, had

reached at length the rapid waters of the muddy Phasis.

And while they go to the king, and ask the fleece that once belonged to

Phryxus, and conditions are offered them, dreadful for the number of

mighty labors; in the meantime, the daughter of Æetes[4] conceives a

violent flame; and having long struggled {against it}, after she is

unable to conquer her frenzy by reason, she says: “In vain, Medea, dost

thou resist; some God, who, I know not, is opposing thee. It is a wonder

too, if it is not this, or at least something like this, which is called

‘love.’ For why do the commands of my father appear too rigid for me?

and yet too rigid they are. Why am I in dread, lest he whom I have seen

{but} so lately, should perish? What is the cause of alarm so great?

Banish the flames conceived in thy virgin breast, if thou canst, unhappy

{creature}. If I could, I would be more rational. But a new power draws

me on, against my will; and Cupid persuades one thing, reason another.

I see which is the more proper {course}, and I approve of it, {while} I

follow the wrong one. Why, royal maiden, art thou burning for a

stranger, and why coveting the nuptial ties of a strange country? This

land, too, may give thee something which thou mayst love. Whether he

shall live, or whether die, is in {the disposal of} the Gods. Yet he may

survive; and that I may pray for, even without love. For what {fault}

has Jason committed? Whom, but one of hard heart, would not the

{youthful} age of Jason affect? his descent too, and his valor? Whom,

though these other points were wanting, would not his beauty move? at

least, he has moved my breast. But unless I shall give him aid, he will

be breathed upon by the mouths of the bulls; and will engage with his

own {kindred} crops, an enemy sprung from the earth; or he will be given

as a cruel prey to the ravenous dragon. If I allow this, then I will

confess that I was born of a tigress; then, {too}, that I carry steel

and stone in my heart. Why do I not as well behold him perish? Why not,

too, profane my eyes by seeing it? Why do I not stimulate the bulls

against him, and the fierce sons of the earth, and the never-sleeping

dragon? May the Gods award better things. And yet these things are not

to be prayed for, but must be effected by myself. Shall I {then} betray

the kingdom of my father? and by my aid shall some stranger, I know not

who, be saved; that being delivered by my means, he may spread his sails

to the winds without me, and be the husband of another; and I, Medea, be

left for punishment? If he can do this, and if he is capable of

preferring another to me, let him perish in his ingratitude. But not

such is his countenance, not such that nobleness of soul, that

gracefulness of person, that I should fear treachery, and forgetfulness

of what I deserve. Besides, he shall first pledge his faith, and I will

oblige the Gods to be witnesses of our compact. What then dost thou

dread, {thus} secure? Haste {then},[5] and banish {all} delay. Jason

will ever be indebted to thee for his preservation; thee will he unite

to himself in the rites of marriage, and throughout the Pelasgian

cities[6] thou wilt be celebrated by crowds of matrons, as the preserver

{of their sons}. And shall I then, borne away by the winds, leave my

sister[7] and my brother,[8] and my father, and my Gods, and my native

soil? My father is cruel, forsooth; my country, too, is barbarous;[9] my

brother is still {but} an infant; the wishes of my sister are in my

favor. The greatest of the Gods is in possession of me. I shall not be

relinquishing anything great; I shall be pursuing what is great; the

credit of saving the youth of Greece,[10] acquaintance with a better

country, and cities, whose fame is flourishing even here, and the

politeness and the arts of their inhabitants; and the son of Æson, whom

I could be ready to take in exchange for {all} the things that the whole

world contains; with whom for my husband I shall both be deemed dear to

the Gods, and shall reach the stars with my head. Why say that I know

not what mountains[11] are reported to arise in the midst of the waves,

and that Charybdis, an enemy to ships, one while sucks in the sea, at

another discharges it; and how that Scylla, begirt with furious dogs, is

said to bark in the Sicilian deep? Yet holding him whom I love, and

clinging to the bosom of Jason, I shall be borne over the wide seas;

embracing him, naught will I dread; or if I fear anything, for my

husband alone will I fear. And dost thou, Medea, call this a marriage,

and dost thou give a plausible name to thy criminality? Do but consider

how great an offence thou art meditating, and, while {still} thou mayst,

fly from guilt.”

{Thus} she said, and before her eyes stood Virtue, Affection, and

Modesty; and now Cupid turned his vanquished back. She was going to the

ancient altars of Hecate,[12] the daughter of Perses, which a shady

grove and the recesses of a wood concealed. And now she was resolved,

and her passion being checked, had subsided; when she beheld the son of

Æson, and the extinguished flame revived. Her cheeks were covered with

blushes, and her whole face was suffused with a glow. As a spark is wont

to derive nourishment from the winds, which, but small when it lay

concealed beneath the ashes cast over it, {is wont} to increase, and

aroused, to rise again to its original strength, so her love, now

declining, which you would suppose was now growing languid, when she

beheld the youth, was rekindled with the appearance of him before her

eyes. And by chance, on that day, the son of Æson was more beauteous

than usual. You might forgive her loving him. She gazes; and keeps her

eyes fixed upon his countenance, as though but now seen for the first

time; and in her frenzy she thinks she does not behold the face of a

mortal; nor does she turn away from him. But when the stranger began to

speak, and seized her right hand, and begged her assistance with a

humble voice, and promised her marriage; she said, with tears running

down, “I see what I ought to do; and it will not be ignorance of the

truth, but love that beguiles me. By my agency thou shalt be saved; when

saved, grant what thou hast promised.”

He swears by the rites of the Goddess of the triple form, and the Deity

which is in that grove, and by the sire[13] of his future father-in-law,

who beholds all things, and by his own adventures, and by dangers so

great. Being believed {by her}, he immediately received some enchanted

herbs, and thoroughly learned the use of them, and went away rejoicing

to his abode. The next morning had {now} dispersed the twinkling stars,

{when} the people repaired to the sacred field of Mavors, and ranged

themselves on the hills. In the midst of the assembly sat the king

himself, arrayed in purple, and distinguished by a sceptre of ivory.

Behold! the brazen-footed bulls breathe forth flames[14] from their

adamantine nostrils; and the grass touched by the vapors is on fire. And

as the forges filled {with fire} are wont to roar, or when flints[15]

dissolved in an earthen furnace receive intense heat by the sprinkling

of flowing water; so do their breasts rolling forth the flames enclosed

within, and their scorched throats, resound. Yet the son of Æson goes

forth to meet them. The fierce {bulls} turn their terrible features, and

their horns pointed with iron, towards his face as he advances, and with

cloven hoofs they spurn the dusty ground, and fill the place with

lowings, that send forth clouds of smoke. The Minyæ are frozen with

horror. He comes up, and feels not the flames breathed forth by them, so

great is the power of the incantations. He even strokes their hanging

dewlaps with a bold right hand, and, subjected to the yoke, he obliges

them to draw the heavy weight of a plough, and to turn up with the share

the plain {till now} unused to it.[16]

The Colchians are astonished; the Minyæ fill {the air} with their

shouts, and give him {fresh} courage. Then in a brazen helmet he takes

the dragon’s teeth,[17] and strews them over the ploughed up fields. The

ground, impregnated beforehand with a potent drug, softens the seed; and

the teeth that were sown grow up, and become new bodies. And as the

infant receives the human form in the womb of the mother, and is there

formed in all its parts, and comes not forth into the common air until

at maturity, so when the figure of man is ripened in the bowels of the

pregnant earth, it arises in the fruitful plain; and, what is still more

surprising, it brandishes arms produced at the same time. When the

Pelasgians saw them preparing to hurl their spears with sharp points at

the head of the Hæmonian youth, they lowered their countenances and

their courage, {quailing} with fear. She, too, became alarmed, who had

rendered him secure; and when she saw the youth, being but one, attacked

by so many enemies, she turned pale, and suddenly chilled {with fear},

sat down without blood {in her cheeks}. And, lest the herbs that had

been given by her, should avail him but little, she repeats an auxiliary

charm, and summons {to her aid} her secret arts. He, hurling a heavy

stone into the midst of his enemies, turns the warfare, now averted from

himself, upon themselves. The Earth-born brothers perish by mutual

wounds, and fall in civil fight. The Greeks congratulate him, and caress

the conqueror, and cling to him in hearty embraces. And thou too,

barbarian maiden, wouldst fain have embraced him; ’twas modesty that

opposed the design; otherwise thou wouldst have embraced him; but regard

for thy reputation restrained thee from doing so. What thou mayst do,

{thou dost do}; thou rejoicest with a silent affection, and thou givest

thanks to thy charms, and to the Gods, the authors of them.

It {still} remains to lay asleep with herbs the watchful dragon, who,

distinguished by his crest and his three tongues, and terrible with his

hooked teeth, is the keeper of the Golden Fleece. After he has sprinkled

him with herbs of Lethæan juice,[18] and has thrice repeated words that

cause placid slumbers, which {would even calm} the boisterous ocean,

{and} which would stop the rapid rivers, sleep creeps upon the eyes that

were strangers to it, and the hero, the son of Æson, gains the gold; and

proud of the spoil and bearing with him the giver of the prize as a

second spoil, he arrives victorious, with his wife, at the port of

Iolcos.[19]

[Footnote 1: _The Minyæ._--Ver. 1. The Argonauts. The Minyæ were a

people of Thessaly, so called from Minyas, the son of Orchomenus.]

[Footnote 2: _Pagasæan ship._--Ver. 1. Pagasæ was a seaport of

Thessaly, at the foot of Mount Pelion, where the ship Argo was

built.]

[Footnote 3: _Distressed old man._--Ver. 4. Clarke translates

‘miseri senis ore,’ ‘from the mouth of the miserable old fellow.’]

[Footnote 4: _Daughter of Æetes._--Ver. 9. Medea was the daughter

of Æetes, the king of Colchis. Juno, favoring Jason, had persuaded

Venus to inspire Medea with love for him.]

[Footnote 5: _Haste then._--Ver. 47. Clarke translates

‘accingere,’ more literally than elegantly, ‘buckle to.’]

[Footnote 6: _Pelasgian cities._--Ver. 49. Pelasgia was properly

that part of Greece which was afterwards called Thessaly. The

province of Pelasgiotis, in Thessaly, afterwards retained its

name, which was derived from the Pelasgi, an early people of

Greece. Pliny informs us that Peloponnesus at first had the names

of ‘Apia’ and ‘Pelasgia.’ Some suppose that the Pelasgi derived

their name from Pelasgus, the son of Jupiter; while other writers

assert that they were so called from πελαργοὶ, ‘storks,’ from

their wandering habits. The name is frequently used, as in the

present instance, to signify the whole of the Greeks.]

[Footnote 7: _My sister._--Ver. 51. Her sister was Chalciope, who

had married Phryxus, after his arrival in Colchis. Her children

being found by Jason, in the isle of Dia, they came with him to

Colchis, and presented him to their mother, who afterwards

commended him to the care of Medea.]

[Footnote 8: _And my brother._--Ver. 51. Her brother was Absyrtus,

whose tragical death is afterwards mentioned.]

[Footnote 9: _Is barbarous._--Ver. 53. It was certainly ‘barbara’

in the eyes of a Greek; but the argument sounds rather oddly in

the mouth of Medea, herself a native of the country.]

[Footnote 10: _The youth of Greece._--Ver. 56. These were the

Argonauts, who were selected from the most noble youths of

Greece.]

[Footnote 11: _What mountains._--Ver. 63. These were the Cyanean

rocks, or Symplegades, at the mouth of the Euxine sea.]

[Footnote 12: _Hecate._--Ver. 74. Ancient writers seem to have

been much divided in opinion who Hecate was. Ovid here follows the

account which made her to be the daughter of Perses, who,

according to Diodorus Siculus, was the son of Phœbus, and the

brother of Æetes. Marrying her uncle Æetes, she is said to have

been the mother of Circe, Medea, and Absyrtus. By some writers she

is confounded with the Moon and with Proserpine; as identical with

the Moon, she has the epithets ‘Triceps’ and ‘Triformis,’ often

given to her by the poets, because the Moon sometimes is full,

sometimes disappears, and often shows but part of her disk.]

[Footnote 13: _And by the sire._--Ver. 96. Allusion is made to the

Sun, who was said to be the father of Æetes, the destined

father-in-law of Jason.]

[Footnote 14: _Breathe forth flames._--Ver. 104. The name of the

God of fire is here used to signify that element. Apollodorus

says, that Medea gave Jason a drug (φάρμακον) to rub over himself

and his armor.]

[Footnote 15: _Or when flints._--Ver. 107. It is difficult to

determine whether ‘silices’ here means ‘flint-stones,’ or

‘lime-stone;’ probably the latter, from the mention of water

sprinkled over them. If the meaning is ‘flint-stones,’ the passage

may refer to the manufacture of glass, with the art of making

which the ancients were perfectly acquainted.]

[Footnote 16: _Unused to it._--Ver. 119. Because, being sacred to

Mars, it was not permitted to be ploughed.]

[Footnote 17: _Dragon’s teeth._--Ver. 122. These were a portion of

the teeth of the dragon slain by Cadmus, which Mars and Minerva

had sent to Æetes.]

[Footnote 18: _Lethæan juice._--Ver. 152. Lethe was a river of the

infernal regions, whose waters were said to produce sleep and

forgetfulness.]

[Footnote 19: _Port of Iolcos._--Ver. 158. Iolcos was a city of

Thessaly, of which country Jason was a native.]

EXPLANATION.

To understand this story, one of the most famous in the early history

of Greece, we must go back to the origin of it, and examine the

fictions which the poets have mingled with the history of the

expedition of the Argonauts, one of the most remarkable events of the

fabulous ages.

Athamas, the son of Æolus, grandson of Hellen, and great-grandson of

Deucalion, having married Ino, the daughter of Cadmus, was obliged to

divorce her, on account of the madness with which she was attacked. He

afterwards married Nephele, by whom he had a son and daughter, Phryxus

and Helle; but on his taking his first wife again, she brought him two

sons, Learchus and Melicerta. Ino, hating the children of Nephele,

sought to destroy them. Phryxus being informed thereof, ordered a ship

to be privately prepared; and taking his father’s treasures, sailed

with his sister Helle, to seek a retreat in the court of Æetes, his

kinsman. Helle died on the voyage, but Phryxus arrived in Colchis,

where he dedicated the prow of his ship to Neptune, or Jupiter. He

there married Chalciope, by whom he had four sons, Argos, Phrontes,

Molas, and Cylindus. Some years after, Æetes caused him to be

assassinated; and his sons fleeing to the court of their grandfather,

Athamas, were shipwrecked on an island, where they remained until

found there by Jason, who took them back to their mother. Having

mourned them as dead, she was transported with joy on finding them,

and used every exertion to aid Jason in promoting his addresses to

Medea. Æetes having seized the treasures of Athamas on the death of

Phryxus, the Greeks prepared an expedition to recover them, and to

avenge his death. Pelias, who had driven his brother Æson from the

throne of Iolcos, desiring to procure the absence of his son Jason,

took this opportunity of engaging him in an enterprise, which promised

both glory, profit, and a large amount of personal exertion. The

uneasiness which Pelias felt was caused by the prediction of an

oracle, that he should be killed by a prince of the family of Æolus,

and which warned him to beware of a person who should have but one

shoe. Just at that period, Jason, returning from the school of Chiron,

lost one of his shoes in crossing a river. On this, his uncle was

desirous to destroy him; but not daring to do so publicly, he induced

him to embark with the Argonauts, expecting that he would perish in an

undertaking of so perilous a nature. Many young nobles of Greece

repaired to the court of Iolcos, and joined in the undertaking, when

they chose Jason for their leader, and embarked in a ship, the name of

which was Argo, and from which the adventurers received the name of

Argonauts.

Diodorus Siculus says, that the ship was so named from its swiftness;

while others say, that it was so called from Argus, the name of its

builder, or from the Argives, or Greeks, on board of it. Bochart,

however, supposes, that the name is derived from the Phœnician word

‘arco,’ which signifies ‘long,’ and suggests, that before that time

the Greeks sailed in vessels of a rounder form, Jason being the first

who sailed in a ship built in the form of a galley. After many

adventures, on arriving at the Isle of Lemnos, they found that the

women had killed their husbands in a fit of jealousy, on which the

Argonauts took wives from their number, and Jason received for his

companion Hypsipyle, the daughter of Thoas. Putting to sea again, they

were driven on the coast of Bithynia, where they delivered Phineus,

its king, from the persecution of the Harpies, who were in the habit

of snatching away the victuals from his table. These monsters, of

hideous form, with crooked beaks and talons, huge wings, and the faces

of women, the Argonauts, and especially Calais and Zethes, pursued as

far as the islands called Strophades, in the Ionian sea, where Iris

appearing to them, enjoined them to pursue the Harpies no further,

promising that Phineus should no longer be persecuted by them. To

explain this story, some suppose that the Harpies were the daughters

of Phineus, who by their dissipation and extravagance, had ruined him

in his old age, which occasioned the saying, that they snatched the

victuals out of his mouth. Le Clerc thinks, that the Harpies were vast

swarms of grasshoppers, which ravaged all Paphlagonia, and caused a

famine in the dominions of Phineus; the word ‘arbati,’ whence the term

‘Harpy’ is derived, signifying ‘a grasshopper;’ and that the North

wind blowing them into the Ionian sea, it gave rise to the saying,

that the sons of Boreas pursued them so far. Diodorus Siculus does not

mention the Harpies, though he speaks of the arrival of the Argonauts

at the court of Phineus.

After some other adventures, the Argonauts arrived at Colchis. Æetes,

or Æeta, the king, having been forewarned by an oracle, that a

stranger should deprive him of his crown and life, had established a

custom of sacrificing all strangers found in his dominions. His

daughter Medea, falling in love with Jason, promised him her

assistance in preserving them from the dangers to which they were

exposed, on the condition of his marrying her. Having engaged to do

so, she conducted him by night to the royal palace, and gave him a

false key, by means whereof he found the royal treasures, and carrying

them off, embarked with Medea and his companions. By way of explaining

the miraculous portion of the story, we may, perhaps, not err in

supposing, that the account of it was originally written in the

Phœnician language; and through not understanding it, the Greeks

invented the fiction of the Fleece, the Dragon, and the Fiery Bulls.

Bochart and Le Clerc have observed, that the Syriac word ‘gaza,’

signifies either ‘a treasure,’ or ‘a fleece.’ ‘Saur,’ which means ‘a

wall,’ also means ‘a bull;’ and in the same language the same word,

‘nachas,’ signifies both ‘brass,’ ‘iron,’ and ‘a dragon.’ Hence,

instead of the simple narrative, that Jason, by the aid of Medea,

carried away the treasures which Æetes kept within walls, with bolts,

or locks of metal, and which Phryxus had carried to Colchis in a ship

with the figure of a ram at the prow, it was published, and circulated

by the ignorant, that the Gods, to save Phryxus from his stepmother,

sent him a sheep with a golden fleece, which bore him to Colchis; that

its fleece became the object of the ambition of the leading men of

Greece; and that whoever wished to bear it away was obliged to contend

with bulls and dragons. Some historians, by way of interpreting the

story, affirm, that the keeper of the treasures was named ‘Draco,’ or

‘Dragon,’ and that the garrison of the stronghold of Æetes was brought

from the ‘Tauric’ Chersonesus. They say also, that the fleece was the

skin of the sheep which Phryxus had sacrificed to Neptune, which he

had caused to be gilt. It is not, however, very likely, that an object

so trifling could have excited the avarice of the Greeks, and caused

them to undertake an expedition accompanied with so many dangers. The

dragon’s teeth most probably bear reference to some foreign troops

which Jason, in the same way as Cadmus had done, found means to

alienate from Æetes, and to bring over to his own side. Homer makes

but very slight allusion to the adventures of the Argonauts.

FABLE II. [VII.159-349]

Jason, after his return home, requests Medea to restore his father

Æson to youth, which she performs; then, going to the court of Pelias,

she avenges the injuries which he had done to the family of Jason, by

making him the victim of the credulity of his own daughters, who, in

compliance with her pretended regard for them, stab him to death.

Medea, having executed her design, makes her escape in her chariot.

The Hæmonian mothers and aged fathers bring presents, for receiving

their sons {safe home}; and frankincense dissolves, piled on the flames,

and the devoted victim falls, having its horns gilded. But Æson is not

among those congratulating, being now near death, and worn out with the

years of old age; when thus the son of Æson {addresses Medea}: “O wife,

to whom I confess that I owe my safety, although thou hast granted me

everything, and the sum of thy favors exceeds {all} belief; {still}, if

{thy enchantments} can effect this (and what can enchantments not

effect?), take away from my own years, and, when taken, add them to

{those of} my father.”

And {thus saying}, he could not check his tears. She was moved with the

affection of the petitioner; and {her father}, Æetes, left behind,

recurred to her mind, unlike {that of Jason}; yet she did not confess

any such feelings. “What a piece of wickedness, husband,” said she, “has

escaped thy affectionate lips! Can I, then, seem capable of transferring

to any one a portion of thy life? May Hecate not allow of this; nor dost

thou ask what is reasonable; but, Jason, I will endeavor to grant thee a

favor {still} greater than that which thou art asking. By my arts we

will endeavor to bring back the long years of my father-in-law, and not

by means of thy years; if the Goddess of the triple form[20] do but

assist, and propitiously aid {so} vast an undertaking.” Three nights

were {now} wanting that the horns {of the Moon} might meet entirely, and

might form a {perfect} orb. After the Moon shone in her full, and looked

down upon the Earth, with her disk complete, {Medea} went forth from the

house, clothed in garments flowing loose, with bare feet,[21] and having

her unadorned hair hanging over her shoulders, and unattended, directed

her wandering steps through the still silence of midnight. Sound sleep

has {now} relaxed {the nerves of both} men, and birds, and beasts; the

hedges and the motionless foliage are still, without any noise, the dewy

air is still; the stars alone are twinkling; towards which, holding up

her arms, three times she turns herself about, three times she

besprinkles her hair with water taken from the stream; with three yells

she opens her mouth, and, her knee bending upon the hard ground, she

says, “O Night, most faithful to these my mysteries, and ye golden

Stars, who, with the Moon, succeed the fires of the day, and thou,

three-faced Hecate,[22] who comest conscious of my design, and ye charms

and arts of the enchanters, and thou, too, Earth, that dost furnish the

enchanters with powerful herbs; ye breezes, too, and winds, mountains,

rivers, and lakes, and all ye Deities of the groves, and all ye Gods of

night, attend here; through whose aid, whenever I will, the rivers run

back from their astonished banks to their sources, {and} by my charms I

calm the troubled sea, and rouse it when calm; I disperse the clouds,

and I bring clouds {upon the Earth}; I both allay the winds, and I raise

them; and I break the jaws of serpents with my words and my spells;

I move, too, the solid rocks, and the oaks torn up with their own

{native} earth, and the forests {as well}. I command the mountains, too,

to quake, and the Earth to groan, and the ghosts to come forth from

their tombs. Thee, too, O Moon, do I draw down, although the

Temesæan[23] brass relieves thy pangs. By my spells, also, the chariot

of my grandsire is rendered pale; Aurora, too, is pale through my

enchantments. For me did ye blunt the flames of the bulls, and with the

curving plough you pressed the necks that never before bore the yoke.

You raised a cruel warfare for those born of the dragon among

themselves, and you lulled to sleep the keeper {of the golden fleece},

that had never known sleep; and {thus}, deceiving the guardian, you sent

the treasure into the Grecian cities. Now there is need of juices, by

means of which, old age, being renewed, may return to the bloom {of

life}, and may receive back again its early years; and {this} ye will

give me; for not in vain did the stars {just now} sparkle; nor yet in

vain is the chariot come, drawn by the necks of winged dragons.”

A chariot sent down from heaven was come; which, soon as she had

mounted, and had stroked the harnessed necks of the dragons, and had

shaken the light reins with her hands, she was borne aloft, and looked

down upon Thessalian Tempe below her, and guided her dragons towards the

chalky regions;[24] and observed the herbs which Ossa, and which the

lofty Pelion bore, Othrys, too, and Pindus, and Olympus {still} greater

than Pindus; and part she tore up by the root gently worked, part she

cut down with the bend of a brazen sickle.[25] Many a herb, too, that

grew on the banks of Apidanus[26] pleased her; many, too, {on the banks}

of Amphrysus; nor, Enipeus, didst thou escape. The Peneian waters, and

the Spercheian as well, contributed something, and the rushy shores of

Bœbe.[27] She plucks, too, enlivening herbs by the Eubœan Anthedon,[28]

not yet commonly known by the change of the body of Glaucus.[29] And now

the ninth day,[30] and the ninth night had seen her visiting all the

fields in her chariot, and upon the wings of the dragons, when she

returned; nor had the dragons been fed, but with the odors {of the

plants}: and yet they cast the skin of old age full of years. On her

arrival she stood without the threshold and the gates, and was canopied

by the heavens alone, and avoided the contact of her husband, and

erected two altars of turf; on the right hand, one to Hecate, but on the

left side one to Youth.[31] After she had hung them round with vervain

and forest boughs, throwing up the earth from two trenches not far off,

she performed the rites, and plunged a knife into the throat of a black

ram, and besprinkled the wide trenches with blood. Then pouring thereon

goblets[32] of flowing wine, and pouring brazen goblets of warm milk;

she at the same time utters words, and calls upon the Deities of the

earth, and entreats the king of the shades[33] below, together with his

ravished wife, that they will not hasten to deprive the aged limbs of

life. When she had rendered them propitious both by prayers and

prolonged mutterings, she commanded the exhausted body of Æson to be

brought out to the altars, and stretched it cast into a deep sleep by

her charms, {and} resembling one dead, upon the herbs laid beneath him.

She orders the son of Æson to go far thence, and the attendants, too, to

go afar; and warns them to withdraw their profane eyes from her

mysteries. At her order, they retire. Medea, with dishevelled hair, goes

round the blazing altars like a worshipper of Bacchus, and dips her

torches, split into many parts, in the trench, black with blood, and

lights them, {thus} dipt, at the two altars. And thrice does she[34]

purify the aged man with flames, thrice with water, and thrice with

sulphur. In the meantime the potent mixture[35] is boiling and heaving

in the brazen cauldron, placed {on the flames}, and whitens with

swelling froth. There she boils roots cut up in the Hæmonian valleys,

and seeds and flowers and acrid juices. She adds stones fetched from the

most distant East, and sand, which the ebbing tide of the ocean has

washed. She adds, too, hoar-frost gathered at night by the light of the

moon, and the ill-boding wings of a screech owl,[36] together with its

flesh; and the entrails of an ambiguous wolf, that was wont to change

its appearance of a wild beast into {that of} a man. Nor is there

wanting there the thin scaly slough of the Cinyphian water-snake,[37]

and the liver of the long-lived stag;[38] to which, besides, she adds

the bill and head of a crow that had sustained {an existence of} nine

ages. When, with these and a thousand other things without a name, the

barbarian {princess} has completed the medicine prepared for the mortal

{body}, with a branch of the peaceful olive long since dried up, she

stirs them all up, and blends the lowest {ingredients} with the highest.

Behold! the old branch, turned about in the heated cauldron, at first

becomes green; and after no long time assumes foliage, and is suddenly

loaded with heavy olives. Besides, wherever the fire throws the froth

from out of the hollow cauldron, and the boiling drops fall upon the

earth, the ground becomes green, and flowers and soft grass spring up.

Soon as Medea sees this, she opens the throat[39] of the old man with a

drawn sword; and allowing the former blood to escape, replenishes {his

veins} with juices. Soon as Æson has drunk them in, either received in

his mouth or in his wound, his beard and his hair[40] laying aside their

hoariness, assume a black hue. His leanness flies, being expelled; his

paleness and squalor are gone. His hollow veins are supplied with

additional blood, and his limbs become instinct with vigor. Æson is

astonished, and calls to recollection that he was such four times ten

years before.

Liber had beheld from on high the miraculous operations of so great a

prodigy; and taught {thereby} that youthful years can be restored to his

nurses,[41] he requests this present from the daughter of Æetes.[42]

And that her arts[43] may not cease, the Phasian feigns a counterfeited

quarrel with her husband, and flies as a suppliant to the threshold of

Pelias[44] and (as he himself is oppressed with old age) his daughters

receive her; whom, after a short time, the crafty Colchian engages to

herself by the appearance of a pretended friendship. And while among the

greatest of her merits, she relates that the infirmities of Æson have

been removed, and is dwelling upon that part {of the story}, a hope is

suggested to the damsels, the daughters of Pelias, that by the like art

their parent may become young again; and this they request {of her}, and

repeatedly entreat her to name her own price. For a short time she is

silent, and appears to be hesitating, and keeps their mind in suspense,

as they ask, with an affected gravity.

Afterwards, when she has promised them, she says, “That there may be the

greater confidence in this my skill, the leader of the flock among your

sheep, which is the most advanced in age, shall become a lamb by this

preparation.” Immediately, a fleecy {ram}, enfeebled by innumerable

years, is brought, with his horns bending around his hollow temples;

whose withered throat, when she has cut with the Hæmonian knife, and

stained the steel with its scanty blood, the enchantress plunges the

limbs of the sheep, and her potent juices together, into the hollow

copper. The limbs of his body are lessened, and he puts off his horns,

and his years together with his horns; and in the midst of the kettle a

low bleating is heard. And without any delay, while they are wondering

at the bleating, a lamb springs forth, and gambols in its course, and

seeks the suckling dugs. The daughters of Pelias are amazed; and after

her promises have obtained her credit, then, indeed, they urge her still

more strongly. Phœbus had thrice taken the yoke off his horses sinking

in the Iberian sea;[45] and upon the fourth night the radiant stars were

twinkling, when the deceitful daughter of Æetes set pure water upon a

blazing fire, and herbs without any virtue. And now sleep like to death,

their bodies being relaxed, had seized the king, and the guards together

with their king, which her charms and the influence of her enchanting

tongue had caused. The daughters {of the king}, {as} ordered, had

entered the threshold, together with the Colchian, and had surrounded

the bed; “Why do you hesitate now, in your indolence? Unsheathe your

swords,” says she, “and exhaust the ancient gore, that I may replenish

his empty veins with youthful blood. The life and the age of your father

is now in your power. If you have any affection and cherish not vain

hopes, perform your duty to your father, and drive away old age with

your weapons, and, thrusting in the steel, let out his corrupted blood.”

Upon this exhortation, as each of them is affectionate, she becomes

especially undutiful, and that she may not be wicked, she commits

wickedness. Yet not one is able to look upon her own blow; and they

turn away their eyes, and turning away their faces, they deal chance

blows with their cruel right hands. He, streaming with gore, yet raises

his limbs on his elbows, and, half-mangled, attempts to rise from the

couch; and in the midst of so many swords stretching forth his pale

arms, he says, “What are you doing, my daughters? What arms you against

the life of your parent?” Their courage and their hands fail {them}. As

he is about to say more, the Colchian severs his throat, together with

his words, and plunges him, {thus} mangled, in the boiling cauldron.

[Footnote 20: _Of the triple form._--Ver. 177. Hecate, the Goddess

of enchantment.]

[Footnote 21: _With bare feet._--Ver. 183. To have the feet bare

was esteemed requisite for the due performance of magic rites,

though sometimes on such occasions, and probably in the present

instance, only one foot was left unshod. In times of drought,

according to Tertullian, a procession and ceremonial, called

‘nudipedalia,’ were resorted to, with a view to propitiate the

Gods by this token of grief and humiliation.]

[Footnote 22: _Three-faced Hecate._--Ver. 194. Though Hecate and

the Moon are here mentioned as distinct, they are frequently

considered to have been the same Deity, with different attributes.

The three heads with which Hecate was represented were those of a

horse, a dog, and a pig, or sometimes, in the place of the latter,

a human head.]

[Footnote 23: _Temesæan._--Ver. 207. Temesa was a town of the

Brutii, on the coast of Etruria, famous for its copper mines. It

was also sometimes called Tempsa. There was also another Temesa,

a city of Cyprus, also famous for its copper.]

[Footnote 24: _Chalky regions._--Ver. 223. Such was the

characteristic of the mountainous country of Thessaly, where she

now alighted.]

[Footnote 25: _Brazen sickle._--Ver. 227. We learn from Macrobius

and Cælius Rhodiginus that copper was preferred to iron in cutting

herbs for the purposes of enchantment, in exorcising spirits, and

in aiding the moon in eclipses against the supposed charms of the

witches, because it was supposed to be a purer metal.]

[Footnote 26: _Apidanus._--Ver. 228. This and Amphrysus were

rivers of Thessaly.]

[Footnote 27: _Shores of Bœbe._--Ver. 231. Strabo makes mention of

lake Bœbeis, near the town of Bœbe, in Thessaly. It was not far

from the mouth of the river Peneus.]

[Footnote 28: _Anthedon._--Ver. 232. This was a town of Bœotia,

opposite to Eubœa, being situated on the Euripus, now called the

straits of Negropont.]

[Footnote 29: _Glaucus._--Ver. 233. He was a fisherman, who was

changed into a sea God, on tasting a certain herb. His story is

related at the end of the 13th Book.]

[Footnote 30: _Ninth day._--Ver. 234. The numbers three and nine

seem to have been deemed of especial virtue in incantations.]

[Footnote 31: _One to youth._--Ver. 241. This goddess was also

called Hebe, from the Greek word signifying youth. She was the

daughter of Juno, and the wife of Hercules. She was also the

cup-bearer of the Gods, until she was supplanted by Ganymede.]

[Footnote 32: _Goblets._--Ver. 246. ‘Carchesia.’ The ‘carchesium’

was a kind of drinking cup, used by the Greeks from very early

times. It was slightly contracted in the middle, and its two

handles extended from the top to the bottom. It was employed in

the worship of the Deities, and was used for libations of blood,

wine, milk, and honey. Macrobius says that it was only used by the

Greeks. Virgil makes mention of it as used to hold wine.]

[Footnote 33: _King of the shades._--Ver. 249. Pluto and

Proserpine. Clarke translates this line and the next, ‘And prays

to the king of shades with his kidnapped wife, that they would not

be too forward to deprive the limbs of the old gentleman of

life.’]

[Footnote 34: _Thrice does she._--Ver. 261. Clarke thus renders

this and the two following lines: ‘And purifies the old gentleman

three times with flame, three times with water, and three times

with sulphur. In the meantime the strong medicine boils, and

bounces about in a brazen kettle set on the fire.’]

[Footnote 35: _The potent mixture._--Ver. 262. This reminds us of

the line of Shakespeare in Macbeth, ‘Make the hell-broth thick and

slab.’]

[Footnote 36: _A screech owl._--Ver. 269. ‘Strigis.’ The ‘strix’

is supposed to have been the screech owl, and was a favorite bird

with the enchanters, who were supposed to have the power of

assuming that form. From the description given of the ‘striges’ in

the Sixth Book of the Fasti, it would almost appear that the

qualities of the vampyre bat were attributed to them.]

[Footnote 37: _Water snake._--Ver. 272. The ‘chelydrus’ was a

venomous water-snake of a powerful and offensive smell. The

Delphin Commentator seems to think that a kind of turtle is here

meant.]

[Footnote 38: _Long-lived stag._--Ver. 273. The stag was said to

live four times, and the crow nine times, as long as man.]

[Footnote 39: _Opened the throat._--Ver. 285-6. Clarke translates

the words ‘quod simul ac vidit, stricto Medea recludit Ense senis

jugulum,’ ‘which as soon as Medea saw, she opens the throat of the

old gentleman with a drawn sword.’]

[Footnote 40: _And his hair._--Ver. 288. Medea is thought by some

writers not only to have discovered a dye for giving a dark color

to grey hair, but to have found out the invigorating properties of

the warm bath.]

[Footnote 41: _To his nurses._--Ver. 295. These (in Book iii.

l. 314.) he calls by the name of Nyseïdes; but in the Fifth Book

of the Fasti they are styled Hyades, and are placed in the number

of the Constellations. A commentator on Homer, quoting from

Pherecydes, calls them ‘Dodonides.’]

[Footnote 42: _Daughter of Æetes._--Ver. 296. The reading in most

of the MSS. here is Tetheiâ, or ‘Thetide;’ but Burmann has

replaced it by Æetide, ‘the daughter of Æetes.’ It has been justly

remarked, why should Bacchus apply to Tethys to have the age of

the Nymphs, who had nursed him, renewed, when he had just beheld

Medea, and not Tethys, do it in favor of Æson?]

[Footnote 43: _That her arts._--Ver. 297. ‘Neve doli cessent’ is

translated by Clarke, ‘and that her tricks might not cease.’]

[Footnote 44: _Pelias._--Ver. 298. He was the brother of Æson, and

had dethroned him, and usurped his kingdom.]

[Footnote 45: _The Iberian sea._--Ver. 324. The Atlantic, or

Western Ocean, is thus called from Iberia, the ancient name of

Spain; which country, perhaps, was so called from the river

Iberus, or Ebro, flowing through it.]

EXPLANATION.

The authors who have endeavored to explain the true meaning and origin

of the story of the restitution of Æson to youth, are much divided in

their opinions concerning it. Some think it refers to the mystery of

reviving the decrepit and aged by the transfusion of youthful blood.

It is, however, not improbable, that Medea obtained the reputation of

being a sorceress, only because she had been taught by her mother the

virtues of various plants: and that she administered a potion to Æson,

which furnished him with new spirits and strength.

The daughters of Pelias being desirous to obtain the same favor of

Medea for their father, she, to revenge the evils which he had brought

upon her husband and his family, may possibly have mixed some venomous

herbs in his drink, which immediately killed him.

FABLE III. [VII.350-401]

Medea, after having killed Pelias, goes through several countries to

Corinth, where, finding that Jason, in her absence, has married the

daughter of king Creon, she sets fire to the palace, whereby the

princess and her father are consumed. She then murders the two

children which she had by Jason, before his face, and takes to flight.

And unless she had mounted into the air with winged dragons, she would

not have been exempt from punishment; she flies aloft, over both shady

Pelion, the lofty habitation[46] of the son of Phillyra, and over

Othrys, and the places noted for the fate of the ancient Cerambus.[47]

He, by the aid of Nymphs, being lifted on wings into the air, when the

ponderous earth was covered by the sea pouring over it, not being

overwhelmed, escaped the flood of Deucalion. On the left side, she

leaves the Æolian Pitane,[48] and the image of the long Dragon[49] made

out of stone, and the wood of Ida,[50] in which Bacchus hid a stolen

bullock beneath the appearance of a fictitious stag; {the spot} too,

where the father of Corythus[51] lies buried beneath a little sand, and

the fields which Mæra[52] alarmed by her unusual barking.

The city, too, of Eurypylus,[53] in which the Coan matrons[54] wore

horns, at the time when the herd of Hercules[55] departed {thence};

Phœbean Rhodes[56] also, and the Ialysian Telchines,[57] whose eyes[58]

corrupting all things by the very looking upon them, Jupiter utterly

hating, thrust beneath the waves of his brother. She passed, too, over

the Cartheian walls of ancient Cea,[59] where her father Alcidamas[60]

was destined to wonder that a gentle dove could arise from the body of

his daughter.

After that, she beholds the lakes of Hyrie,[61] and Cycneian Tempe,[62]

which the swan that had suddenly become such, frequented. For there

Phyllius, at the request of the boy, had given him birds, and a fierce

lion tamed; being ordered, too, to subdue a bull, he had subdued him;

and being angry at his despising his love so often, he denied him,

{when} begging the bull as his last reward. The other, indignant, said,

“Thou shalt wish that thou hadst given it;” and {then} leaped from a

high rock. All imagined he had fallen; but, transformed into a swan, he

hovered in the air on snow-white wings. But his mother, Hyrie, not

knowing that he was saved, dissolved in tears, and formed a lake

{called} after her own name.

Adjacent to these {places} is Pleuron;[63] in which Combe,[64] the

daughter of Ophis, escaped the wounds of her sons with trembling wings.

After that, she sees the fields of Calaurea,[65] sacred to Latona,

conscious of the transformation of their king, together with his wife,

into birds. Cyllene is on the right hand, on which Menephron[66] was

{one day} to lie with his mother, after the manner of savage beasts. Far

hence she beholds Cephisus,[67] lamenting the fate of his grandson,

changed by Apollo into a bloated sea-calf; and the house of Eumelus,[68]

lamenting his son in the air.

At length, borne on the wings of her dragons, she reached the Pirenian

Ephyre.[69] Here, those of ancient times promulgated that in the early

ages mortal bodies were produced from mushrooms springing from rain. But

after the new-made bride was consumed, through the Colchian drugs, and

both seas beheld the king’s house on fire, her wicked sword was bathed

in the blood of her sons; and the mother, having {thus} barbarously

revenged herself, fled from the arms of Jason. Being borne hence by her

Titanian dragons,[70] she entered the city of Pallas, which saw thee,

most righteous Phineus,[71] and thee, aged Periphas,[72] flying

together, and the granddaughter of Polypemon[73] resting upon new-formed

wings.

[Footnote 46: _Lofty habitation._--Ver. 352. The mountains of

Thessaly are so called, because Chiron, the son of the Nymph

Phillyra, lived there.]

[Footnote 47: _Cerambus._--Ver. 353. Antoninus Liberalis, quoting

from Nicander, calls him Terambus, and says that he lived at the

foot of Mount Pelion; he incurred the resentment of the Nymphs,

who changed him into a scarabæus, or winged beetle. Flying to the

heights of Parnassus, at the time of the flood of Deucalion, he

thereby made his escape. Some writers say that he was changed into

a bird.]

[Footnote 48: _Pitane._--Ver. 357. This was a town of Ætolia, in

Asia Minor, near the mouth of the river Caicus.]

[Footnote 49: _The long dragon._--Ver. 358. He alludes, most

probably, to the story of the Lesbian changed into a dragon or

serpent, which is mentioned in the Eleventh book, line 58.]

[Footnote 50: _Wood of Ida._--Ver. 359. This was the grove of Ida,

in Phrygia. It is supposed that he refers to the story of

Thyoneus, the son of Bacchus, who, having stolen an ox from some

Phrygian shepherds, was pursued by them; on which Bacchus, to

screen his son, changed the ox into a stag, and invested Thyoneus

with the garb of a hunter.]

[Footnote 51: _Father of Corythus._--Ver. 361. Paris was the

father of Corythus, by Œnone. He was said to have been buried at

Cebrena, a little town of Phrygia, near Troy.]

[Footnote 52: _Mæra._--Ver. 362. This was the name of the dog of

Icarius, the father of Erigone, who discovered the murder of his

master by the shepherds of Attica, and was made a Constellation,

under the name of the Dog-star. As, however, the flight of Medea

was now far distant from Attica, it is more likely that the Poet

refers to the transformation of some female, named Mæra, into a

dog, whose story has not come down to us; indeed, Lactantius

expresses this as his opinion. Burmann thinks that it refers to

the transformation of Hecuba, mentioned in the 13th book, line

406; and that ‘Mæra’ is a corruption for some other name of

Hecuba.]

[Footnote 53: _Eurypylus._--Ver. 363. He was a former king of the

Isle of Cos, in the Ægean Sea, and was much famed for his skill as

an augur.]

[Footnote 54: _The Coan matrons._--Ver. 363. Lactantius says that

the women of Cos, extolling their own beauty as superior to that

of Venus, incurred the resentment of that Goddess, and were

changed by her into cows. Another version of the story is, that

these women, being offended at Hercules for driving the oxen of

Ægeon through their island, were very abusive, on which Juno

transformed them into cows: to this latter version reference is

made in the present passage.]

[Footnote 55: _Hercules._--Ver. 364. He besieged and took the

chief city of the island, which was also called Cos; and having

slain Eurypylus, carried off his daughter Chalciope.]

[Footnote 56: _Phœbean Rhodes._--Ver. 365. The island of Rhodes,

in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Asia Minor, was sacred to

the Sun, and was said never to be deserted by his rays.]

[Footnote 57: _Ialysian Telchines._--Ver. 365. Ialysus was one of

the three most ancient cities of Rhodes, and was said to have been

founded by Ialysus, whose parent was the Sun. The Telchines, or

Thelchines, were a race supposed to have migrated thither from

Crete. They were persons of great artistic skill, on which account

they may, possibly, have obtained the character of being

magicians; such was the belief of Strabo.]

[Footnote 58: _Whose eyes._--Ver. 366. The evil eye was supposed

by the ancients not only to have certain fascinating powers, but

to be able to destroy the beauty of any object on which it was

turned.]

[Footnote 59: _Cea._--Ver. 368. This island, now Zia, is in the

Ægean sea, near Eubœa. Carthæa was a city there, the ruins of

which are still in existence.]

[Footnote 60: _Alcidamas._--Ver. 369. Antoninus Liberalis says,

that Alcidamas lived not at Carthæa, but at Iülis, another city in

the Isle of Cea.]

[Footnote 61: _Lakes of Hyrie._--Ver. 371. Hyrie was the mother of

Cycnus; and pining away with grief on the transformation of her

son, she was changed into a lake, called by her name.]

[Footnote 62: _Cycneian Tempe._--Ver. 371. This was not Thessalian

Tempe, but a valley of Teumesia, or Teumesus, a mountain of

Bœotia.]

[Footnote 63: _Pleuron._--Ver. 382. This was a city of Ætolia,

near Mount Curius. It was far distant from Bœotia and Lake Hyrie.

Some commentators, therefore, suggest that the reading should be

Brauron, a village of Attica, near the confines of Bœotia.]

[Footnote 64: _Combe._--Ver. 383. She was the mother of the

Curetes of Ætolia, who, perhaps, received that name from Mount

Curius. There was another Combe, the daughter of Asopus, who

discovered the use of brazen arms, and was called Chalcis, from

that circumstance. She was said to have borne a hundred daughters

to her husband.]

[Footnote 65: _Calaurea._--Ver. 384. This was an island between

Crete and the Peloponnesus, in the Saronic gulf, which was sacred

to Apollo. Latona resided there, having given Delos to Neptune in

exchange for it. Demosthenes died there.]

[Footnote 66: _Menephron._--Ver. 386. Hyginus says, that he

committed incest both with his mother Blias, and with Cyllene, his

daughter.]

[Footnote 67: _Cephisus._--Ver. 388. The river Cephisus, in

Bœotia, had a daughter, Praxithea. She was the wife of Erectheus,

and bore him eight sons, the fate of one of whom is perhaps here

referred to.]

[Footnote 68: _Eumelus._--Ver. 390. He was the king of Patræ, on

the sea-coast of Achaia. Triptolemus visited him with his winged

chariot; on which, Antheas, the son of Eumelus, ascended it while

his father was sleeping, and falling from it, he was killed. He

is, probably, here referred to; and the reading should be ‘natum,’

and not ‘natam.’ Some writers, however, suppose that his daughter

was changed into a bird.]

[Footnote 69: _Pirenian Ephyre._--Ver. 391. Corinth was so called

from Ephyre, the daughter of Neptune, who was said to have lived

there. Its inhabitants were fabled to have sprung from mushrooms.]

[Footnote 70: _Titanian dragons._--Ver. 398. Her dragons are so

called, either because, as Pindar says, they had sprung from the

blood of the Titans, or because, according to the Greek tradition,

the chariot and winged dragons had been sent to Medea by the Sun,

one of whose names was Titan.]

[Footnote 71: _Phineus._--Ver. 399. Any further particulars of the

person here named are unknown. Some commentators suggest ‘Phini,’

and that some female of the name of Phinis is alluded to, making

the adjective ‘justissime’ of the feminine gender.]

[Footnote 72: _Periphas._--Ver. 400. He was a very ancient king of

Attica, before the time of Cecrops, and was said to have been

changed into an eagle by Jupiter, while his wife was transformed

into an osprey.]

[Footnote 73: _Polypemon._--Ver. 401. This was a name of the

robber Procrustes, who was slain by Theseus. Halcyone, the

daughter of his son Scyron, having been guilty of incontinence,

was thrown into the sea by her father, on which she was changed

into a kingfisher, which bore her name.]

EXPLANATION.

Jason being reconciled to the children of Pelias, gave the crown to

his son Acastus. Becoming tired of Medea, he married Glauce, or

Creüsa, the daughter of Creon, king of Corinth. Medea, hastening to

that place, left her two sons in the temple of Juno, and set fire to

Creon’s palace, where he and his daughter were consumed to ashes,

after which she killed her own children. Euripides, in his tragedy of

Medea, makes a chorus of Corinthian women say, that the Corinthians

themselves committed the murder, and that the Gods sent a plague on

the city, as a punishment for the deed. Pausanias also says, that the

tomb of Medea’s children, whom the Corinthians stoned to death, was

still to be seen in his time; and that the Corinthians offered

sacrifices there every year, to appease their ghosts, as the oracle

had commanded them.

Apollodorus relates this story in a different manner. He says, that

Medea sent her rival a crown, dipped in a sort of gum of a combustible

nature; and that when Glauce had put it on her head, it began to burn

so furiously, that the young princess perished in the greatest misery.

Medea afterwards retired to Thebes, where Hercules engaged to give her

assistance against Jason, which promise, however, he failed to

perform. Going thence to Athens, she married Ægeus.

The story of her winged dragons may, perhaps, be based on the fact,

that her ship was called ‘the Dragon.’ In recounting the particulars

of her flight, Ovid makes allusion to several stories by the way, the

most of which are entirely unknown to us. With regard to these

fictions, it may not be out of place to remark here, as affording a

key to many of them, that where a person escaped from any imminent

danger, it was published that he had been changed into a bird. If, to

avoid pursuit, a person hid himself in a cave, he was said to be

transformed into a serpent; and if he burst into tears, from excess of

grief, he was reported to have changed into a fountain; while, if a

damsel lost herself in a wood, she became a Nymph, or a Dryad. The

resemblance of names, also, gave rise to several fictions: thus,

Alopis was changed into a fox; Cygnus into a swan; Coronis into a

crow; and Cerambus into a horned beetle. As some few of the stories

here alluded to by Ovid, refer to historical events, it may be

remarked, that the account of the women of Cos being changed into

cows, is thought by some to have been founded on the cruel act of the

companions of Hercules, who sacrificed some of them to the Gods of the

country. The inhabitants of the Isle of Rhodes were said to have been

changed into rocks, because they perished in an inundation, which laid

a part of that island under water, and particularly the town of

Ialysus. The fruitfulness of the daughter of Alcidamas occasioned it

to be said, that she was changed into a dove. The rage of Mæra is

shown by her transformation into a bitch; and Arne was changed into a

daw, because, having sold her country, her avarice was well depicted

under the symbol of that bird, which, according to the popular

opinion, is fond of money. Phillyra, the mother of the Centaur Chiron,

was said to be changed into a linden-tree, probably because she

happened to bear the name of that tree, which in the Greek language is

called φιλύρα.

FABLE IV. [VII.402-468]

Hercules chains the dog Cerberus, the guardian of the gates of the

Infernal Regions. Theseus, after his exploits at Corinth, arrives at

Athens, where Medea prepares a cup of poison for him. The king,

however, recognizing his son, just as he is about to drink, snatches

away the cup from him, while Medea flies in her chariot. Ægeus then

makes a festival, to celebrate the arrival and preservation of

Theseus. In the mean time, Minos, the king of Crete, solicits several

princes to assist him in a war against Athens, to revenge the death of

his son Androgeus, who had been murdered there.

Ægeus, to be blamed for this deed alone, shelters her; and hospitality

is not enough, he also joins her {to himself} by the ties of marriage.

And now was Theseus, his son, arrived, unknown to his father, who, by

his valor, had established peace in the Isthmus between the two seas.

For his destruction Medea mingles the wolfsbane, which she once brought

with her from the shores of Scythia. This, they say, sprang from the

teeth of the Echidnean dog. There is a gloomy cave,[74] with a dark

entrance, {wherein} there is a descending path, along which the

Tirynthian hero dragged away Cerberus resisting, and turning his eyes

sideways from the day and the shining rays {of the Sun}, in chains

formed of adamant; he, filled with furious rage, filled the air with

triple barkings at the same moment, and sprinkled the verdant fields

with white foam. This, they suppose, grew solid, and, receiving the

nourishment of a fruitful and productive soil, acquired the power of

being noxious. Because, full of life, it springs up on the hard rock,

the rustics call it aconite.[75]

This, by the contrivance of his wife, the father Ægeus himself presented

to his son,[76] as though to an enemy. Theseus had received the

presented cup with unsuspecting right hand, when his father perceived

upon the ivory hilt of his sword the tokens of his race,[77] and struck

the guilty {draught} from his mouth. She escaped death, having raised

clouds by her enchantments.

But the father, although he rejoices at his son’s being safe, astonished

that so great a wickedness can be committed with so narrow an escape

from death, heats the altars with fires, and loads the Gods with gifts;

and the axes strike the muscular necks of the oxen having their horns

bound with wreaths. No day is said {ever} to have shone upon the people

of Erectheus more famous than that--the senators and the common people

keep up the festivity; songs, too, they sing, wine inspiring wit. “Thee,

greatest Theseus,” said they, “Marathon[78] admired for {shedding} the

blood of the Cretan bull; and that the husbandman ploughs Cromyon[79] in

safety from the boar, is thy procurement and thy work. By thy means the

country of Epidaurus saw the club-bearing son of Vulcan[80] fall; {and}

the banks of the river Cephisus[81] saw the cruel Procrustes {fall by

thee}. Eleusis, sacred to Ceres, beheld the death of Cercyon.[82]

Sinnis[83] fell too, who barbarously used his great powers; who was able

to bend {huge} beams, and used to pull pine trees from aloft to the

earth, destined to scatter {human} bodies far and wide. The road to

Alcathoë,[84] the Lelegeïan city, is now open in safety, Scyron[85]

being laid low {in death}: {and} the earth denies a resting-place, the

water, {too}, denies a resting-place to the bones of the robber

scattered piecemeal; these, long tossed about, length of time is

reported to have hardened into rocks. To {these} rocks the name of

Scyron adheres. If we should reckon up thy glorious deeds, and thy

years, thy actions would exceed thy years {in number}. For thee, bravest

{hero}, we make public vows: in thy honor do we quaff the draughts of

wine.” The palace rings with the acclamations of the populace, and the

prayers of those applauding; and there is no place sorrowing throughout

the whole city.

And yet (so surely is the pleasure of no one unalloyed, and some anxiety

is {ever} interposing amid joyous circumstances), Ægeus does not have

his joy undisturbed, on receiving back his son. Minos prepares for war;

who, though he is strong in soldiers, strong in shipping, is still

strongest of all in the resentment of a parent, and, with retributive

arms, avenges the death of {his son} Androgeus. Yet, before the war, he

obtains auxiliary forces, and crosses the sea with a swift fleet, in

which he is accounted strong. On the one side, he joins Anaphe[86] to

himself; and the realms of Astypale; Anaphe by treaty, the realms of

Astypale by conquest; on the other side, the low Myconos, and the chalky

lands of Cimolus,[87] and the flourishing Cythnos, Scyros, and the level

Seriphos;[88] Paros, too, abounding in marble, and {the island} wherein

the treacherous Sithonian[89] betrayed the citadel, on receiving the

gold, which, in her covetousness, she had demanded. She was changed into

a bird, which even now has a passion for gold, the jackdaw {namely},

black-footed, and covered with black feathers.

[Footnote 74: _A gloomy cave._--Ver. 409. This cavern was called

Acherusia. It was situate in the country of the Mariandyni, near

the city of Heraclea, in Pontus, and was said to be the entrance

of the Infernal Regions. Cerberus was said to have been dragged

from Tartarus by Hercules, through this cave, which circumstance

was supposed to account for the quantity of aconite, or wolfsbane,

that grew there.]

[Footnote 75: _Call it aconite._--Ver. 419. From the Greek ακόνη,

‘a whetstone.’]

[Footnote 76: _Presented to his son._--Ver. 420. Medea was anxious

to secure the succession to the throne of Athens to her son Medus,

and was therefore desirous to remove Theseus out of the way.]

[Footnote 77: _Tokens of his race._--Ver. 423. Ægeus, leaving

Æthra at Trœzen, in a state of pregnancy, charged her, if she bore

a son, to rear him, but to tell no one whose son he was. He placed

his own sword and shoes under a large stone, and directed her to

send his son to him when he was able to lift the stone, and to

take them from under it; and he then returned to Athens, where he

married Medea. When Theseus had grown to the proper age, his

mother led him to the stone under which his father had deposited

his sword and shoes, which he raised with ease, and took them out.

It was, probably, by means of this sword that Ægeus recognized his

son in the manner mentioned in the text.]

[Footnote 78: _Marathon._--Ver. 434. This was a town of Attica,

adjoining a plain of the same name, where the Athenians, under the

command of Miltiades, overthrew the Persians with immense

slaughter. The bull which Theseus slew there was presented by

Neptune to Minos. Being brought into Attica by Hercules, it laid

waste that territory until it was slain by Theseus.]

[Footnote 79: _Cromyon._--Ver. 435. This was a village of the

Corinthian territory, which was infested by a wild boar of

enormous size, that slew both men and animals. It was put to death

by Theseus.]

[Footnote 80: _Vulcan._--Ver. 437. By Antilia, Vulcan was the

father of Periphetes, a robber who infested Epidaurus, in the

Peloponnesus. He was so formidable with his club, that he was

called Corynetas, from κορύνη, the Greek for ‘a club.’]

[Footnote 81: _Cephisus._--Ver. 438. Procrustes was a robber of

such extreme cruelty that he used to stretch out, or lop off, the

extremities of his captives, according as they were shorter or

longer than his bedstead. He infested the neighborhood of Eleusis,

in Attica, which was watered by the Cephisus. He was put to death

by Theseus.]

[Footnote 82: _Cercyon._--Ver. 439. It was his custom to challenge

travellers to wrestle, and to kill them, if they declined the

contest, or were beaten in it. Theseus accepted his challenge; and

having overcome him, put him to death. Eleusis was especially

dedicated to Ceres; there the famous Eleusinian mysteries of that

Goddess were held.]

[Footnote 83: _Sinnis._--Ver. 440. He was a robber of Attica, to

whom reference is made in the Ibis, line 409.]

[Footnote 84: _Alcathoë._--Ver. 443. Megara, or Alcathoë, which

was founded by Lelex, was almost destroyed by Minos, and was

rebuilt by Alcathoüs, the son of Pelops. He, flying from his

father, on being accused of the murder of his brother Chrysippus,

retired to the city of Megara, where, having slain a lion which

was then laying waste that territory, he was held in the highest

veneration by the inhabitants.]

[Footnote 85: _Scyron._--Ver. 443. This robber haunted the rocks

in the neighborhood of Megara, and used to insist on those who

became his guests washing his feet. This being done upon the

rocks, Scyron used to kick the strangers into the sea while so

occupied, where a tortoise lay ready to devour the bodies. Theseus

killed him, and threw his body down the same rocks, which derived

their name of Saronic, or Scyronic, from this robber.]

[Footnote 86: _Anaphe._--Ver. 461. This, and the other islands

here named, were near the isle of Crete, and perhaps in those

times were subject to the sway of Minos.]

[Footnote 87: _Cimolus._--Ver. 463. Pliny the Elder tells us, that

this island was famous for producing a clay which seems to have

had much the properties of soap. It was of a grayish white color,

and was also employed for medicinal purposes.]

[Footnote 88: _Seriphos._--Ver. 464. Commentators are at a loss to

know why Seriphos should here have the epithet ‘plana,’ ‘level,’

inasmuch as it was a very craggy island. It is probably a corrupt

reading.]

[Footnote 89: _Sithonian._--Ver. 466. This was Arne, whose story

is referred to in the Explanation, p. 242 / p. 270.]

EXPLANATION.

If it is the fact, as many antiquarians suppose, that much of the

Grecian mythology was derived from that of the Egyptians, there can be

but little doubt that their system of the Elysian Fields and the

Infernal Regions was derived from the Egyptian notions on the future

state of man. The story too, of Cerberus is, perhaps, based upon the

custom of the Egyptians, who kept dogs to guard the fields or caverns

in which they kept their mummies.

It is, however, very possible that the story of Cerberus may have been

founded upon a fact, or what was believed to be such. There was a

serpent which haunted the cavern of Tænarus, in Laconia, and ravaged

the districts adjacent to that promontory. This cave, being generally

considered to be one of the avenues to the kingdom of Pluto, the poets

thence derived the notion that this serpent was the guardian of its

portals. Pausanias observes, that Homer was the first who said that

Cerberus was a dog; though, in reality, he was a serpent, whose name

in the Greek language signified ‘one that devours flesh.’ The story

that Cerberus, with his foam, poisoned the herbs that grew in

Thessaly, and that the aconite and other poisonous plants were ever

after common there, is probably based on the simple fact, that those

herbs were found in great quantities in that region.

Women, using these herbs in their pretended enchantments, gave ground

for the stories of the witches of Thessaly, and of their ability to

bring the moon down to the earth by their spells and incantations;

which latter notion was probably based on the circumstance, that these

women used to invoke the Night and the Moon as witnesses of their

magical operations.

FABLE V. [VII.469-613]

Minos, having engaged several powers in his interest, and having been

refused by others, goes to the island of Ægina, where Æacus reigns,

to endeavor to secure an alliance with that prince; but without

success. Upon his departure, Cephalus arrives, as ambassador, from

Athens, and obtains succors from the king; who gives him an account of

the desolation which a pestilence had formerly made in his country,

and of the surprising manner in which it had been re-peopled.

But Oliaros,[90] and Didyme, and Tenos,[91] and Andros,[92] and

Gyaros,[93] and Peparethos, fruitful in the smooth olive,[94] do not aid

the Gnossian ships. Then Minos makes for Œnopia,[95] the kingdom of

Æacus, lying to the left. The ancients called it Œnopia, but Æacus

himself called it Ægina, from the name of his mother. The multitude

rushes forth, and desires greatly to know a man of so great celebrity.

Both Telamon,[96] and Peleus, younger than Telamon, and Phocus, the

{king’s} third son, go to meet him. Æacus himself, too, {though} slow

through the infirmity of old age, goes forth, and asks him what is the

reason of his coming? The ruler of a hundred cities, being put in mind

of his fatherly sorrow {for his son}, sighs, and gives him this answer:

“I beg thee to assist arms taken up on account of my son; and be a party

in a war of affection. For his shades do I demand satisfaction.” To him

the grandson of Asopus says, “Thou askest in vain, and for a thing not

to be done by my city; for, indeed, there is no land more closely allied

to the people of Cecropia. Such are {the terms of} our compact.” {Minos}

goes away in sadness, and says, “This compact of thine will cost thee a

dear price;” and he thinks it more expedient to threaten war than to

wage it, and to waste his forces there prematurely.

Even yet may the Lyctian[97] fleet be beheld from the Œnopian walls,

when an Attic ship, speeding onward with full sail, appears, and enters

the friendly harbor, which is carrying Cephalus, and together {with him}

the request of his native country. The youthful sons of Æacus recognize

Cephalus, although seen but after a long period, and give their right

hands, and lead him into the house of their father. The graceful hero,

even still retaining some traces of his former beauty, enters; and,

holding a branch of his country’s olive, being the elder, he has on his

right and left hand the two younger in age, Clytus and Butes, the sons

of Pallas.[98] After their first meeting has had words suitable

{thereto}, Cephalus relates the request of the people of Cecrops, and

begs assistance, and recounts the treaties and alliances of their

forefathers; and he adds, that the subjection of the whole of Achaia is

aimed at. After the eloquence {of Cephalus} has thus promoted the cause

entrusted to him, Æacus, leaning with his left hand on the handle of his

sceptre, says--

“Ask not for assistance, O Athens, but take it, and consider, beyond

doubt, the resources which this island possesses, as thy own, and let

all the forces of my kingdom go {along with thee}. Strength is not

wanting. I have soldiers enough both for my defence, and for {opposing}

the enemy. Thanks to the Gods; this is a prosperous time, and one that

can excuse no refusal of mine.” “Yes, {and} be it so,” says

Cephalus:[99] “and I pray that thy power may increase along with thy

citizens. Indeed, as I came along just now, I received {much} pleasure,

when a number of youths, so comely and so equal in their ages, came

forward to meet me. Yet I miss many from among them, whom I once saw

when I was formerly entertained in this city.” Æacus heaves a sigh, and

thus he says, with mournful voice: “A better fortune will be following a

lamentable beginning; I {only} wish I could relate this to you. I will

now tell it you without any order, that I may not be detaining you by

any long preamble.[100] They are {now} lying as bones and ashes, for

whom thou art inquiring with tenacious memory. And how great a part were

they of my resources that perished! A dreadful pestilence fell upon my

people, through the anger of the vengeful Juno, who hated a country

named[101] from her rival. While the calamity seemed natural, and the

baneful cause of so great destruction was unknown, it was opposed by the

resources of medicine. {But} the havoc exceeded {all} help, which {now}

lay baffled. At first the heaven encompassed the earth with a thick

darkness, and enclosed within its clouds a drowsy heat. And while the

Moon was four times filling her orb by joining her horns, {and}, four

times decreasing, was diminishing her full orb, the hot South winds were

blowing with their deadly blasts. It is known for a fact that the

infection came even into fountains and lakes, and that many thousands of

serpents were wandering over the uncultivated fields, and were tainting

the rivers with their venom. The violence of this sudden distemper was

first discovered by the destruction of dogs, and birds, and sheep, and

oxen, and among the wild beasts. The unfortunate ploughman wonders that

strong oxen fall down at their work, and lie stretched in the middle of

the furrow. {And} while the wool-bearing flocks utter weakly bleatings,

both their wool falls off spontaneously, and their bodies pine away. The

horse, once of high mettle, and of great fame on the course, degenerates

for the {purposes of} victory; and, forgetting his ancient honors, he

groans at the manger, doomed to perish by an inglorious distemper. The

boar remembers not to be angry, nor the hind to trust to her speed, nor

the bears to rush upon the powerful herds.

“A faintness seizes all {animals}; both in the woods, in the fields, and

in the roads, loathsome carcases lie strewed. The air is corrupted with

the smell {of them}. I am relating strange events. The dogs, and the

ravenous birds, and the hoary wolves, touch them not; falling away, they

rot, and, by their exhalations, produce baneful effects, and spread the

contagion far and wide. With more dreadful destruction the pestilence

reaches the wretched husbandmen, and riots within the walls of the

extensive city. At first, the bowels are scorched,[102] and a redness,

and the breath drawn with difficulty, is a sign of the latent flame. The

tongue, {grown} rough, swells; and the parched mouth gapes, with its

throbbing veins; the noxious air, too, is inhaled by the breathing. {The

infected} cannot endure a bed, or any coverings; but they lay their

hardened breasts upon the earth, and their bodies are not made cool by

the ground, but the ground is made hot by their bodies. There is no

physician at hand; the cruel malady breaks out upon even those who

administer remedies; and {their own} arts become an injury to their

owners. The nearer at hand any one is, and the more faithfully he

attends on the sick, the sooner does he come in for his share of the

fatality. And when the hope of recovery is departed, and they see the

end of their malady {only} in death, they indulge their humors, and

there is no concern as to what is to their advantage; for, {indeed},

nothing is to their advantage. All sense, too, of shame being banished,

they lie {promiscuously} close to the fountains and rivers, and deep

wells; and their thirst is not extinguished by drinking, before their

life {is}. Many, overpowered {with the disease}, are unable to arise

thence, and die amid the very water; and yet another even drinks that

{water}. So great, too, is the irksomeness for the wretched {creatures}

of their hated beds, {that} they leap out, or, if their strength forbids

them standing, they roll their bodies upon the ground, and every man

flies from his own dwelling; each one’s house seems fatal to him: and

since the cause of the calamity is unknown, the place that is known is

blamed. You might see persons, half dead, wandering about the roads, as

long as they were able to stand; others, weeping and lying about on the

ground, and rolling their wearied eyes with the dying movement. They

stretch, too, their limbs towards the stars of the overhanging heavens,

breathing forth their lives here and there, where death has overtaken

them.

“What were my feelings then? Were they not such as they ought to be, to

hate life, and to desire to be a sharer with my people? On whichever

side my eyes were turned, there was the multitude strewed {on the

earth}, just as when rotten apples fall from the moved branches, and

acorns from the shaken holm-oak. Thou seest[103] a lofty temple,

opposite {thee}, raised on high with long steps: Jupiter has it {as his

own}. Who did not offer incense at those altars in vain? how often did

the husband, while he was uttering words of entreaty for his wife, {or}

the father for his son, end his life at the altars without prevailing?

in his hand, too, was part of the frankincense found unconsumed! How

often did the bulls, when brought to the temples, while the priest was

making his supplications, and pouring the pure wine between their horns,

fall without waiting for the wound! While I myself was offering

sacrifice to Jupiter, for myself, and my country, and my three sons, the

victim sent forth dismal lowings, and suddenly falling down without any

blow, stained the knives thrust into it, with its scanty blood; the

diseased entrails, too, had lost {all} marks of truth, and the warnings

of the Gods. The baneful malady penetrated to the entrails. I have seen

the carcases lying, thrown out before the sacred doors; before the very

altars, {too}, that death might become more odious[104] {to the Gods}.

Some finish their lives with the halter, and by death dispel the

apprehension of death, and voluntarily invite approaching fate. The

bodies of the dead are not borne out with any funeral rites, according

to the custom; for the {city} gates cannot receive {the multitude of}

the processions. Either unburied they lie upon the ground, or they are

laid on the lofty pyres without the usual honors. And now there is no

distinction, and they struggle for the piles; and they are burnt on

fires that belong to others. They who should weep are wanting; and the

souls of sons, and of husbands, of old and of young, wander about

unlamented: there is not room sufficient for the tombs, nor trees for

the fires.”

[Footnote 90: _Oliaros._--Ver. 469. This was one of the Cyclades,

in the Ægean sea; it was colonized by the Sidonians.]

[Footnote 91: _Tenos._--Ver. 469. This island was famous for a

temple there, sacred to Neptune.]

[Footnote 92: _Andros._--Ver. 469. This was an island in the Ægean

Sea, near Eubœa. It received its name from Andros, the son of

Anius. The Andrian slave, who gives his name to one of the

comedies of Terence, was supposed to be a native of this island.]

[Footnote 93: _Gyaros._--Ver. 470. This was a sterile island among

the Cyclades; in later times, the Romans made it a penal

settlement for their criminals. The mice of this island were said

to be able to gnaw iron; perhaps, because they were starved by

reason of its unfruitfulness.]

[Footnote 94: _Smooth olive._--Ver. 470. Clarke translates ‘nitidæ

olivæ’ ‘the neat olive.’ ‘Nitidus’ here means ‘smooth and

shining.’]

[Footnote 95: _Œnopia._--Ver. 473. This was the ancient name of

the isle of Ægina, in the Saronic Gulf, famous as being the native

place of the family of the Æacidæ. It obtained its later name from

Ægina, the daughter of Asopus, and the mother of Æacus, whom

Jupiter carried thither.]

[Footnote 96: _Telamon._--Ver. 476. Telamon, Peleus, and Phocus,

were the three sons of Æacus.]

[Footnote 97: _Lyctian._--Ver. 490. Lyctus was the name of one of

the cities of Crete.]

[Footnote 98: _Pallas._--Ver. 500. This was either Pallas the son

of Pandion, king of Athens, or of Neleus, the brother of Theseus.

This Pallas, together with his sons, was afterwards slain by

Theseus.]

[Footnote 99: _Cephalus._--Ver. 512. He was the son of Deioneus,

or according to some writers, of Mercury and Herse, the daughter

of Cecrops.]

[Footnote 100: _Long preamble._--Ver. 520. Clarke translates ‘neu

longâ ambage morer vos,’ ‘that I may not detain you with a

long-winded detail of it.’]

[Footnote 101: _Country named._--Ver. 524. This was the island of

Ægina, so called from the Nymph who was carried thither by

Jupiter.]

[Footnote 102: _Bowels are scorched._--Ver. 554. Clarke quaintly

renders the words ‘viscera torrentur primo.’ ‘first people’s

bowels are searched;’ perhaps, however, the latter word is a

misprint for ‘scorched.’]

[Footnote 103: _Thou seest._--Ver. 587. As Æacus says this, he

must be supposed to point with his finger towards the temple.]

[Footnote 104: _More odious._--Ver. 603. Dead bodies were supposed

to be particularly offensive to the Gods.]

EXPLANATION.

Minos (most probably the second prince that bore that name), upon his

accession to the throne, after the death of his father, Lycastus, made

several conquests in the islands adjoining Crete, where he reigned,

and, at last, became master of those seas. The strength of his fleet

is particularly remarked by Thucydides, Apollodorus, and Diodorus

Siculus.

The Feast of the Panathenæa being celebrated at Athens, Minos sent his

son Androgeus to it, who joined as a combatant in the games, and was

sufficiently skilful to win all the prizes. The glory which he thereby

acquired, combined with his polished manners, obtained him the

friendship of the sons of Pallas, the brother of Ægeus. This

circumstance caused Ægeus to entertain jealous feelings, the more

especially as he knew that his nephews were conspiring against him.

Being informed that Androgeus was about to take a journey to Thebes,

he caused him to be assassinated near Œnoë, a town on the confines of

Attica. Apollodorus, indeed, says that he was killed by the Bull of

Marathon, which was then making great ravages in Greece; but it is

very possible that the Athenians encouraged this belief, with the view

of screening their king from the infamy of an action so inhuman and

unjust. Diodorus Siculus and Plutarch agree in stating that Ægeus

himself caused Androgeus to be murdered.

On hearing the news of his son’s death, Minos resolved on revenge. He

ordered a strong fleet to be fitted out, and went in person to several

courts, to contract alliances, and engage other powers to assist him;

and this, with the history of the plague at Ægina, forms the subject

of the present narrative.

FABLE VI. [VII.614-660]

Jupiter, at the prayer of his son Æacus, transforms the ants that are

in the hollow of an old oak into men; these, from the Greek name of

those insects, are called Myrmidons.

“Stupefied by so great an outburst of misery, I said, ‘O Jupiter! if

stories do not falsely say that thou didst come into the embraces of

Ægina, the daughter of Asopus, and thou art not ashamed, great Father,

to be the parent of myself; either restore my people to me, or else bury

me, as well, in the sepulchre.’ He gave a signal by lightnings, and by

propitious thunders. I accepted {the omen}, and I said, ‘I pray that

these may be happy signs of thy intentions: the omen which thou givest

me, I accept as a pledge.’ By chance there was close by, an oak sacred

to Jupiter, of seed from Dodona,[105] but thinly covered with

wide-spreading boughs. Here we beheld some ants, the gatherers of corn,

in a long train, carrying a heavy burden in their little mouths, and

keeping their track in the wrinkled bark. While I was wondering at their

numbers, I said, ‘Do thou, most gracious Father, give me citizens as

many in number, and replenish my empty walls.’ The lofty oak trembled,

and made a noise in its boughs, moving without a breeze. My limbs

quivered, with trembling fear, and my hair stood on an end; yet I gave

kisses to the earth and to the oak, nor did I confess that I had any

hopes; {and} yet I did hope, and I cherished my own wishes in my mind.

Night came on, and sleep seized my body wearied with anxiety. Before my

eyes the same oak seemed to be present, and to bear as many branches,

and as many animals in its branches, and to be trembling with a similar

motion, and to be scattering the grain-bearing troop on the fields

below. These suddenly grew, and seemed greater and greater, and raised

themselves from the ground, and stood with their bodies upright; and

laid aside their leanness, and the {former} number of their feet, and

their sable hue, and assumed in their limbs the human shape.

“Sleep departs. When {now} awake, I censured the vision, and complained

that there was no help for me from the Gods above. But within my palace

there was a great murmur, and I seemed to be hearing the voices of men,

to which I had now become unaccustomed. While I was supposing that

these, too, were {a part} of my dream, lo! Telamon came in haste, and,

opening the door, said, ‘Father, thou wilt see things beyond thy hopes

or expectations. Do come out.’ I did go out, and I beheld and recognized

such men, each in his turn, as I had seemed to behold in the vision of

my sleep. They approached, and saluted me as their king. I offered up

vows to Jupiter, and divided the city and the lands void of their former

tillers, among this new-made people, and I called them Myrmidons,[106]

and did not deprive their name {of the marks} of their origin. Thou hast

beheld their persons. Even still do they retain the manners which they

formerly had; and they are a thrifty race, patient of toil, tenacious of

what they get, and what they get they lay up. These, alike in years and

in courage, will attend thee to the war, as soon as the East wind, which

brought thee prosperously hither (for the East wind had brought him),

shall have changed to the South.”

[Footnote 105: _From Dodona._--Ver. 623. Dodona was a town of

Chaonia, in Epirus, so called from Dodone, the daughter of Jupiter

and Europa. Near it was a temple and a wood sacred to Jupiter,

which was famous for the number and magnitude of its oaks. Doves

were said to give oracular responses there, probably from the

circumstance that the female soothsayers of Thessaly were called

πελειαδαι. Some writers, however, say that the oaks had the gift

of speech, combined with that of prophesying.]

[Footnote 106: _Myrmidons._--Ver. 654. From the Greek word μύρμηξ,

‘an ant;’ according to this version of the story.]

EXPLANATION.

This fable, perhaps, has no other foundation than the retreat of the

subjects of Æacus into woods and caverns, whence they returned, when

the contagion had ceased with which their country had been afflicted,

and when he had nearly lost all hopes of seeing them again. It is

probable that the old men were carried off by the plague, while the

young, who had more strength, resisted its power, which circumstance

would fully account for the active habits of the remaining subjects of

Æacus. Some writers, however, suppose that the Myrmidons were a

barbarous, but industrious people of Thessaly, who usually dwelt in

caves, and who were brought thence by Æacus to people his island,

which had been made desolate by a pestilence. The similarity of their

name to the Greek word μύρμηξ, signifying ‘an ant,’ most probably

gave occasion to the report that Jupiter had changed ants into men.

FABLE VII. [VII.661-793]

Cephalus, having resisted the advances of Aurora, who has become

enamoured of him while hunting, returns in disguise to his wife,

Procris, to try if her affection for him is sincere. She, discovering

his suspicions, flies to the woods, and becomes a huntress, with the

determination not to see him again. Afterwards, on becoming reconciled

to him, she bestows on him a dog and a dart, which Diana had once

given her. The dog is turned into stone, while hunting a wild beast,

which Themis has sent to ravage the territories of Thebes, after the

interpretation of the riddle of the Sphinx, by Œdipus.

In these and other narratives they passed the day. The last part of the

day was spent in feasting, and the night in sleep. The golden Sun had

{now} shed his beams, {when} the East wind was still blowing, and

detained the sails about to return. The sons of Pallas repair to

Cephalus, who was stricken in years. Cephalus and the sons of Pallas,

together {with him}, {come} to the king; but a sound sleep still

possessed the monarch. Phocus, the son of Æacus, received them at the

threshold; for Telamon and his brother were levying men for the war.

Phocus conducted the citizens of Cecrops into an inner room, and a

handsome apartment. Soon as he had sat down with them, he observed that

the grandson of Æolus[107] was holding in his hand a javelin made of an

unknown wood, the point of which was of gold.

Having first spoken a few words in promiscuous conversation, he said,

“I am fond of the forests, and of the chase of wild beasts; still, from

what wood the shaft of the javelin, which thou art holding, is cut,

I have been for some time in doubt; certainly, if it were of wild ash,

it would be of brown color; if of cornel-wood, there would be knots in

it. Whence it comes I am ignorant, but my eyes have not looked upon a

weapon used for a javelin, more beautiful than this.” One of the

Athenian brothers replied, and said, “In it, thou wilt admire its

utility, {even} more than its beauty. Whatever it is aimed at, it

strikes; chance does not guide it when thrown, and it flies back stained

with blood, no one returning it.” Then, indeed, does the Nereian

youth[108] inquire into all particulars, why it was given, and whence

{it came}? who was the author of a present of so great value? What he

asks, {Cephalus} tells him; but as to what he is ashamed to tell, {and}

on what condition he received it, he is silent; and, being touched with

sorrow for the loss of his wife, he thus speaks, with tears bursting

forth: “Son of a Goddess, this weapon (who could have believed it?)

makes me weep, and long will make me do so, if the Fates shall grant me

long to live. ’Twas this that proved the destruction of me and of my

dear wife. Would that I had ever been without this present! Procris was

(if perchance {the fame of} Orithyïa[109] may have more probably reached

thy ears) the sister of Orithyïa, the victim of violence. If you should

choose to compare the face and the manners of the two, she was the more

worthy to be carried off. Her father Erectheus united her to me; love,

{too}, united her to me. I was pronounced happy, and {so} I was. Not

thus did it seem {good} to the Gods; or even now, perhaps, I should be

{so}. The second month was now passing, after the marriage rites, when

the saffron-colored Aurora, dispelling the darkness in the morn, beheld

me, as I was planting nets for the horned deer, from the highest summit

of the ever-blooming Hymettus,[110] and carried me off against my will.

By the permission of the Goddess, let me relate what is true; though she

is comely with her rosy face, {and} though she possesses the confines of

light, and possesses {the confines} of darkness, though she is nourished

with the draughts of nectar, {still} I loved Procris; Procris was {ever}

in my thoughts, Procris was ever on my lips. I alleged the sacred ties

of marriage, our late embraces, and our recent union, and the prior

engagements of my forsaken bed. The Goddess was provoked, and said,

‘Cease thy complaints, ungrateful man; keep thy Procris; but, if my mind

is gifted with foresight, thou wilt wish that thou hadst not had her;’”

and {thus}, in anger, she sent me back to her.

“While I was returning, and was revolving the sayings of the Goddess

within myself, there began to be apprehensions that my wife had not duly

observed the laws of wedlock. Both her beauty and her age bade me be

apprehensive of her infidelity; {yet} her virtue forbade me to believe

it. But yet, I had been absent; and besides, she, from whom I was {just}

returning, was an example of {such} criminality: but we that are in

love, apprehend all {mishaps}. I {then} endeavored to discover that, by

reason of which I must feel anguish, and by bribes to make attempts[111]

upon her chaste constancy. Aurora encouraged this apprehension, and

changed my shape, {as} I seemed {then} to perceive. I entered Athens,

the city of Pallas, unknown {to any one}, and I went into my own house.

The house itself was without fault, and gave indications of chastity,

and was in concern for the carrying off of its master.

“Having, with difficulty, made my way to the daughter of Erectheus by

means of a thousand artifices, soon as I beheld her, I was amazed, and

was nearly abandoning my projected trial of her constancy; with

difficulty did I restrain myself from telling the truth, with difficulty

from giving her the kisses which I ought. She was in sorrow; but yet no

one could be more beautiful than she, {even} in her sadness; and she was

consuming with regret for her husband, torn from her. {Only} think,

Phocus, how great was the beauty of her, whom even sorrow did so much

become. Why should I tell how often her chaste manners repulsed {all} my

attempts? How often she said, ‘I am reserved for {but} one, wherever he

is; for that one do I reserve my joys.’ For whom, in his senses, would

not that trial of her fidelity have been sufficiently great? {Yet} I was

not content; and I strove to wound myself, while I was promising to give

vast sums for {but one} night, and forced her at last to waver, by

increasing the reward. {On this} I cried out, ‘Lo! I, the gallant in

disguise, to my sorrow, {and} lavish in promises, to my misery, am thy

real husband; thou treacherous woman! thou art caught, {and} I the

witness.’ She said nothing: only, overwhelmed with silent shame, she

fled from the house of treachery, together with her wicked husband; and

from her resentment against me, abhorring the whole race of men, she

used to wander[112] on the mountains, employed in the pursuits of Diana.

Then, a more violent flame penetrated to my bones, thus deserted.

I begged forgiveness, and owned myself in fault; and that I too might

have yielded to a similar fault, on presents being made; if presents so

large had been offered. Upon my confessing this, having first revenged

her offended modesty, she was restored to me, and passed the pleasant

years in harmony with me. She gave me, besides, as though in herself she

had given me but a small present, a dog as a gift, which when her own

Cynthia had presented to her, she had said, ‘He will excel all dogs in

running.’ She gave her, too, a javelin, which, as thou seest, I am

carrying in my hand.

“Dost thou inquire what was the fortune of the other present--hear

{then}. Thou wilt be astonished at the novelty of the wondrous fact. The

son of Laius[113] had solved the verses not understood by the wit of

others before him; and the mysterious propounder lay precipitated,

forgetful of her riddle. But the genial Themis,[114] forsooth, did not

leave such things unrevenged. Immediately another plague was sent forth

against Aonian Thebes; and many of the peasants fed the savage monster,

both by the destruction of their cattle, and their own as well. We, the

neighboring youth, came together, and enclosed the extensive fields with

toils. With a light bound it leaped over the nets, and passed over the

topmost barriers of the toils that were set. The couples were taken off

the dogs, from which, as they followed, it fled, and eluded them, no

otherwise than as a winged bird. I myself, too, was requested, with

eager demands, for my {dog} Lælaps [{Tempest}]; that was the name of {my

wife’s} present. For some time already had he been struggling to get

free from the couples, and strained them with his neck, as they detained

him. Scarce was he well let loose; and {yet} we could not now tell where

he was; the warm dust had the prints of his feet, {but} he himself was

snatched from our eyes. A spear does not fly swifter than he {did}, nor

pellets whirled from the twisted sling, nor the light arrow from the

Gortynian bow.[115] The top of a hill, {standing} in the middle, looks

down upon the plains below. Thither I mount, and I enjoy the sight of an

unusual chase; wherein the wild beast[116] one while seemed to be

caught, at another to elude his very bite; and it does not fly in a

direct course, and straight onward, but deceives his mouth, as he

pursues it, and returns in circles, that its enemy may not have his full

career against it. He keeps close to it, and pursues it, a match for

him; and {though} like as if he has caught it, {still} he fails to catch

it, and vainly snaps at the air. I was {now} turning to the resources of

my javelin; while my right hand was poising it, {and} while I was

attempting to insert my fingers in the thongs {of it}, I turned away my

eyes; and again I had directed them, recalled to the same spot, when,

{most} wondrous, I beheld two marble statues in the middle of the plain;

you would think the one was flying, the other barking {in pursuit}. Some

God undoubtedly, if any God {really} did attend to them, desired them

both to remain unconquered in this contest of speed.”

[Footnote 107: _Æolus._--Ver. 672. Apollodorus reckons Deioneus,

the parent of Cephalus, among the children of Apollo.]

[Footnote 108: _Nereian youth._--Ver. 685. Phocus, who was the son

of Æacus, by Psamathe, the daughter of Nereus.]

[Footnote 109: _Orithyïa._--Ver. 695. She was the daughter of

Erectheus, king of Athens, and was carried off by Boreas, as

already stated.]

[Footnote 110: _Hymettus._--Ver. 702. This was a mountain of

Attica, famous for its honey and its marble.]

[Footnote 111: _To make attempts._--Ver. 721. Tzetzes informs us

that she was found by her husband in company with a young man

named Pteleon, who had made her a present of a golden wreath.

Antoninus Liberalis says, that her husband tried her fidelity by

offering her a bribe, through the medium of a slave.]

[Footnote 112: _Used to wander._--Ver. 746. Some writers say that

she fled to Crete, on which, Diana, who was aware of the

attachment of Aurora for her husband, made her a present of a

javelin, which no person could escape; and gave her the dog

Lælaps, which no wild beast could outrun. Such is the version

given by Hyginus. But Apollodorus and Antoninus Liberalis say,

that she fled to Minos, who, prevailing over her virtue, made her

a present of the dog and the javelin. Afterwards, presenting

herself before her husband, disguised as a huntress, she gave him

proofs of the efficacy of them; and upon his requesting her to

give them to him, she exacted, as a condition, what must,

apparently, have resulted in a breach of the laws of conjugal

fidelity. On his assenting to the proposal, she discovered

herself, and afterwards made him the presents which he desired.]

[Footnote 113: _The son of Laius._--Ver. 759. Œdipus was the son

of Laius, king of Thebes. The Sphinx was a monster, the offspring

of Typhon and Echidna, which haunted a mountain near Thebes. Œdipus

solved the riddle which it proposed for solution, on which the

monster precipitated itself from a rock. It had the face of a

woman, the wings of a bird, and the extremities of a lion.]

[Footnote 114: _Genial Themis._--Ver. 762. Themis had a very

ancient oracle in Bœotia.]

[Footnote 115: _Gortynian bow._--Ver. 778. Crete was called

Gortynian, from Gortys or Gortyna, one of its cities, which was

famous for the skill of its inhabitants in archery.]

[Footnote 116: _The wild beast._--Ver. 782. Antoninus Liberalis

and Apollodorus say that this was a fox, which was called ‘the

Teumesian,’ from Teumesus, a mountain of Bœotia, and that the

Thebans, to appease its voracity, were wont to give it a child to

devour every month. Palæphatus says that it was not a wild beast,

but a man called Alopis.]

EXPLANATION.

There were two princes of the name of Cephalus; one, the son of

Mercury and Herse, the daughter of Cecrops; the other, the son of

Deïoneus, king of Phocis, and Diomeda, the daughter of Xuthus. The

first was carried off by Aurora, and went to live with her in Syria;

the second married Procris, the daughter of Erectheus, king of Athens.

Though Apollodorus seems, in the first instance, to follow this

genealogy, in his third book he confounds the actions of those two

princes. Ovid and other writers have spoken only of the son of

Deïoneus, who was carried off by Aurora, and having left her,

according to them, returned to Procris.

FABLE VIII. [VII.794-865]

Procris, jealous of Cephalus, in her turn, goes to the forest, which

she supposes to be the scene of his infidelity, to surprise him.

Hearing the rustling noise which she makes in the thicket, where she

lies concealed, he imagines it is a wild beast, and, hurling the

javelin, which she has formerly given to him, he kills her.

Thus far {did he speak}; and {then} he was silent. “But,” said Phocus,

“what fault is there in that javelin?” {whereupon} he thus informed him

of the demerits of the javelin. “Let my joys, Phocus, be the first

portion of my sorrowful story. These will I first relate. O son of

Æacus, I delight to remember the happy time, during which, for the first

years {after my marriage}, I was completely blessed in my wife, {and}

she was happy in her husband. A mutual kindness and social love

possessed us both. Neither would she have preferred the bed of Jupiter

before my love; nor was there any woman that could have captivated me,

not {even} if Venus herself had come. Equal flames fired the breasts {of

us both}. The Sun striking the tops of the mountains with his early

rays, I was wont generally to go with youthful ardor into the woods, to

hunt; but I neither suffered my servants, nor my horses, nor my

quick-scented hounds to go {with me}, nor the knotty nets to attend me;

I was safe with my javelin. But when my right hand was satiated with the

slaughter of wild beasts, I betook myself to the cool spots and the

shade, and the breeze which was breathing forth from the cool valleys.

The gentle breeze was sought by me, in the midst of the heat. For the

breeze was I awaiting; that was a refreshment after my toils: ‘Come,

breeze,’ I was wont to sing, for I remember it {full well}, ‘and, most

grateful, refresh me, and enter my breast; and, as thou art wont, be

willing to assuage the heat with which I am parched.’ Perhaps I may have

added ({for} so my destiny prompted me) many words of endearment, and I

may have been accustomed to say, ‘Thou art my great delight; thou dost

refresh and cherish me; thou makest me to love the woods and lonely

haunts, and thy breath is ever courted by my face.’ I was not aware that

some one was giving an ear, deceived by these ambiguous words; and

thinking the name of the breeze, so often called upon by me, to be that

of a Nymph, he believed some Nymph was beloved by me.

“The rash informer of an imaginary crime immediately went to Procris,

and with his whispering tongue related what he had heard. Love is a

credulous thing. When it was told her, she fell down fainting, with

sudden grief; and coming to, after a long time, she declared that she

was wretched, and {born} to a cruel destiny; and she complained about my

constancy. Excited by a groundless charge,[117] she dreads that which,

{indeed}, is nothing; {and} fears a name without a body; and, in her

wretchedness, grieves as though about a real rival. Yet she is often in

doubt, and, in her extreme wretchedness, hopes she may be deceived, and

denies credit to the information; and unless she beholds it herself,

will not pass sentence upon the criminality of her husband. The

following light of the morning had banished the night, when I sallied

forth, and sought the woods; and being victorious in the fields, I said,

‘Come, breeze, and relieve my pain;’ and suddenly I seemed to hear I

know not what groans in the midst of my words; yet I said, ‘Come hither,

most delightful {breeze}.’ Again, the falling leaves making a gentle

noise, I thought it was a wild beast, and I discharged my flying weapon.

It was Procris; and receiving the wound in the middle of her breast, she

cried out, ‘Ah, wretched me!’ When the voice of my attached wife was

heard, headlong and distracted, I ran towards {that} voice. I found her

dying, and staining her scattered vestments with blood, and drawing her

own present (ah, wretched me!) from out of her wound; I lifted up her

body, dearer to me than my own, in my guilty arms, and I bound up her

cruel wounds with the garments torn from my bosom; and I endeavored to

stanch the blood, and besought her that she would not forsake me, {thus}

criminal, by her death. She, wanting strength, and now expiring, forced

herself to utter these few words:

“‘I suppliantly beseech thee, by the ties of our marriage, and by the

Gods above, and my own Gods, and if I have deserved anything well of

thee, by that {as well}, and by the cause of my death, my love even now

enduring, while I am perishing, do not allow the Nymph Aura [{breeze}]

to share with thee my marriage ties.’ She {thus} spoke; and then, at

last, I perceived the mistake of the name, and informed her of it. But

what avails informing her? She sinks; and her little strength flies,

together with her blood. And so long as she can look on anything, she

gazes on me, and breathes out upon me, on my face,[118] her unhappy

life; but she seems to die free from care, and with a more contented

look.”

In tears, the hero is relating these things to them, as they weep, and,

lo! Æacus enters, with his two sons,[119] and his soldiers newly levied;

which Cephalus received, {furnished} with valorous arms.

[Footnote 117: _Groundless charge._--Ver. 829. Possibly, Ovid may

intend to imply that her jealousy received an additional stimulus

from the similarity of the name ‘Aura’ to that of her former

rival, Aurora.]

[Footnote 118: _On my face._--Ver. 861. He alludes to the

prevalent custom of catching the breath of the dying person in the

mouth.]

[Footnote 119: _His two sons._--Ver. 864. These were Telamon and

Peleus, who had levied these troops.]

EXPLANATION.

The love which Cephalus, the son of Deïoneus, bore for the chase,

causing him to rise early in the morning for the enjoyment of his

sport, was the origin of the story of his love for Aurora. His wife,

Procris, as Apollodorus tells us, carried on an amour with Pteleon,

and, probably, caused that report to be spread abroad, to divert

attention from her own intrigue. Cephalus, suspecting his wife’s

infidelity, she fled to the court of the second Minos, king of Crete,

who fell in love with her. Having, thereby, incurred the resentment of

Pasiphaë, who adopted several methods to destroy her rival, and, among

others, spread poison in her bed, she left Crete, and returned to

Thoricus, the place of her former residence, where she was reconciled

to Cephalus, and gave him the celebrated dog and javelin mentioned by

Ovid.

The poets tell us, that this dog was made by Vulcan, and presented by

him to Jupiter, who gave him to Europa; and that coming to the hands

of her son Minos, he presented it to Procris. The wild beast, which

ravaged the country, and was pursued by the dog of Procris, and which

some writers tell us was a monstrous fox, was probably a pirate or sea

robber; and being, perhaps, pursued by some Cretan officer of Minos,

who escorted Procris back to her country, on their vessels being

shipwrecked near some rocks, it gave occasion to the story that the

dog and the monster had been changed into stone. Indeed, Tzetzes says

distinctly, that the dog was called Cyon, and the monster, or fox,

Alopis; and he also says that Cyon was the captain who brought Procris

back from Crete. It being believed that resentment had some share in

causing the death of Procris, the court of the Areiopagus condemned

Cephalus to perpetual banishment. The island of Cephalenia, which

received its name from him, having been given to him by Amphitryon, he

retired to it, where his son Celeus afterwards succeeded him.

The Hamilton, Locke and Clark

SERIES OF

Interlinear Translations

Have long been the Standard and are now the _Best Translated_ and _Most

Complete_ Series of Interlinears published.

=12mo., well bound in Half Leather.=

=Price reduced to $1.50 each. Postpaid to any address.=

_Latin Interlinear Translations:_

VIRGIL--By Hart and Osborne.

CÆSAR--By Hamilton and Clark.

HORACE--By Stirling, Nuttall and Clark.

CICERO--By Hamilton and Clark.

SALLUST--By Hamilton and Clark.

OVID--By George W. Heilig.

JUVENAL--By Hamilton and Clark.

LIVY--By Hamilton and Clark.

CORNELIUS NEPOS--By Hamilton and Underwood.

_Greek Interlinear Translations:_

HOMER’S ILIAD--By Thomas Clark.

XENOPHON’S ANABASIS--By Hamilton and Clark.

GOSPEL OF ST. JOHN--By George W. Heilig.

=S. Austin Allibone, the distinguished author, writes:=

“There is a growing disapprobation, both in Great Britain and America,

of the disproportionate length of time devoted by the youthful student

to the acquisition of the dead languages; and therefore nothing will

tend so effectually to the preservation of the Greek and Latin grammars

as their judicious union (the fruit of an intelligent compromise) with

the Interlinear Classics.”

=DAVID McKAY, Publisher, Philadelphia,=

Formerly published by Charles De Silver & Sons.

* * * * *

* * * *

* * * * *

Transcriber’s Note on the Text:

Ovid’s _Metamorphoses_, translated by Henry Thomas Riley (1816-1878,

B.A. 1840, M.A. 1859), was originally published in 1851 as part of

Bohn’s Classical Library. This e-text, covering Books I-VII, uses

material from two reprints:

George Bell (London, 1893, one volume). This edition is described on

its title page as “reprinted from the stereotype plates”. These may have

been the original 1851 plates, since the entire _Classical Library_ had

been sold by Bohn to Bell & Daldy, later George Bell.

David McKay (Philadelphia, 1899, two volumes), with introduction by

Edward Brooks. The introductory material from the Bell/Bohn edition is

absent. This edition was freshly typeset, correcting a few errors in the

Bell/Bohn edition but also introducing a number of new errors.

The McKay edition was the “base” of the e-text. The scanned, proofread

text was computer-checked against the text of the Bell edition, and

differences were in turn checked against page images of the printed

books. Where appropriate, the text was checked against one or more

versions of the Latin original. Most differences are trivial. McKay uses

American spelling such as “honor” for “honour”, and compound forms such

as “northwest” for “north-west”; punctuation is often changed, though

some apparent variations may be due to the quality of printing and

reproduction. Non-trivial differences are listed in the Errata, below.

Note that the title page of the Bell edition lists the translator as

“Henry T. Riley, B.A.”, while the McKay edition has “M.A.” The sequence

of dates-- original publication 1851, Riley M.A. 1859, reprint 1893--

supports the idea that the Bell edition is a strict facsimile.

* * * * *

* * * *

_Errors and Anomalies noted by transcriber_

Errors are grouped thematically:

significant errors and inconsistencies;

variant spellings, including name forms;

Greek;

punctuation;

line and footnote numbering.

Abbreviations in the form “II.XIV Exp” mean “Book II, Fable XIV,

Explanation” (appended to most Fables); “Syn” means Synopsis (prefaced

to each Fable).

_Shared errors and irregularities (present in both McKay and Bell

editions), with original text in brackets []_

I.XII: the light breeze spread behind her her careless locks

_read as “spread her careless locks behind her”_

_in McKay, “her her” is printed at a line break and can easily be

mistaken for an error_

I.XII Footnote 82, Pope quotation

_McKay reads “trembling dove” and “reached her”; other

modernizations in spelling are shared by both editions_

I.V: the dreadful carcasses

_anomalous spelling: both editions normally use “carcase(s)”_

II.I _and_ Footnote 16: Hæmus [Hœmus]

II.I Exp: Herse, the daughter of Cecrops (Hersa)

II.III Footnote 57: 2 Kings, xx. 11 [xx. 7]

II.XIV Exp: which Hesychius calls ... [Hesychus]

III.IV Footnote 62: ... Æneid (l. 620) [l. 260]

IV.I Footnote 3: Alcathoë, Leucippe, and Aristippe

_text unchanged; may be error for “Alcithoë”_

IV.II Footnote 39: ‘Virgo victa nitore Dei.’ [uitore]

V.V Footnote 60: The zone, or girdle ... was much worn

_Bell has “was much wore“; McKay has “were much worn”_

V.VI Footnote 75: adjoining to the Elean territory [Eleon]

VI.I: the sley separates the warp

_this technical term is missing from many dictionaries_

VI.III Footnote 47: ‘brekekekekex koäx koäx.’

_text unchanged (one syllable too many)_

VII.IV Footnote 89: the Explanation, p. 242 / p. 270

_final paragraph of the Explanation of Fable VII.III_

VII.V Footnote 92: The Andrian slave, who gives his name [its name]

_Errors or variations introduced by McKay, with original text in

brackets []. Unless otherwise noted, the Bell version was treated as

the correct form. Italics in the translation (here shown in braces {})

are considered non-trivial because they indicate text added by the

translator, not present in the Latin original._

I.II Footnote 19: she was supposed to have her habitation

[habitations]

I.II Footnote 22: Ver. 64. [34]

I.III Exp: the ground became unfruitful [become]

--: as they really happened [happen]

I. VI Footnote 38: Di majorum gentium [Di imajorum]

_intended text may have been “Dii majorum”_

I.VIII Exp: ... that the sea joined its waters

[... the sea joined in its waters]

--: the tradition here followed by Ovid [that tradition]

I.IX: {to endure} these sorrows [to {endure}]

I.X Exp: where he built a temple to Jupiter [when]

I.XII Footnotes 83, 84: Clarke [Clark]

I.XII: Thou, the same, shalt stand [shall]

I.XIII Footnote 92: mount Æta [Ætna]

_the reference is to the Greek mountain now spelled “Eta”_

I.XIII Footnote 96: Pliny the Elder (Book iii. ch. 23)

... Aous [Aeus]

_editions of Pliny vary; the cited passage may also be found as

iii.58 or iii.145_

I.XIII: the wild beasts alone [beast]

I.XVI Exp: Argus was the son of Arestor [Argos]

I.XVII: Thou ... believest thy mother in all things [believes]

I.XVII Footnote 115: He was king of Ethiopia [Ethiopa]

II.I: Ignorant what to do, he is stupefied

_McKay reads “stupei/fied” at page break_

_Bell has “stupified” here, “stupefied” elsewhere_

II.I Footnote 13: Thessaly [Thessalis]

II.I Footnote 18: This was a mountain [A mountain]

II.I Footnote 24: _Cithæron._ [Cithœron]

II.I Footnote 41: Cape Matapan [Metapan]

II.I Exp: the Greek form of it [from]

II.II: a long tract through the air [track]

_Latin: longo ... tractu_

II.VII: Larissæan[69] Coronis [Larissæn]

II.IX: the womb of his mother [the wound]

II.XI: The son of Atlas laughed [sun]

II.XIII Syn: her sister’s apartment [apartments]

_both editions consistently use “apartment”_

II.XIV: which thou seest [seeest]

_this spelling is normal in Bell, but McKay uses “seest” elsewhere_

II.XIV Exp: Palæphatus and Tzetzes suggest [suggests]

III.I Footnote 1: ‘Thebe,’ which signified ‘an ox.’ [signifies]

III.II: the victorious enemy of immense size [in immense size]

III.II Exp: sows the teeth [their]

III.III Footnote 24: _Phyale._ [Phyule]

III.III: Now thou mayst tell [mayest]

III.III Footnote 39: _Pœmenis._ [Parmenis]

III.III: Leucon,[46] with snow-white hair [Luecon]

--: her Cyprian brother, Harpalus,[52] [Harpaulus]

--: Lachne,[54] with a wire-haired body [white-haired]

_Bell text was substituted, but Latin simply has “hirsuta”_

--: and Hylactor,[57] [Hylector]

III.III, Footnote 56: Ver. 224. [254]

III.V: become a woman from a man [became]

_participle: “having become”_

III.VI: with the nearer flame did she burn

_word “did” illegible_

III.VII: grief is taking away [has taken]

_reading “has taken” would require a metrically impossible Latin

“adēmit” for “adĭmit”_

III.VIII, Footnote 89: placed in the number of the Constellations

[the number of Constellations]

III.VIII: ‘Lo! we are here,’ says Opheltes, my chief mate [Ophletes]

--: this Alcimedon approved of [Alcemedon]

--: now confessing that he has offended [had offended]

III.VIII Exp: ... tore him in pieces. Pausanias, however ...

[to pieces, Pausanius]

--: The story ... is supposed by Bochart [Bochârt]

IV.I Footnote 1: ... Pausanias says that the Bœotians

[Pausanius]

IV.I Footnote 8: _Thyoneus._ [Phyoneus]

IV.I: the grass wet with rime [went]

--: they determine, in the silent night [determined]

--: The arrangement suits them [arrangements]

--: the most unhappy cause and companion [anhappy]

IV.I Footnote 22: _The lead decaying._

_footnote marker missing_

IV.II Syn: the intrigue between Mars and Venus [betwen]

IV.II: nor {yet} Clytie [not]

IV.II Footnote 37: Abas, Acrisius, Danaë, Perseus [Danae, Persus]

IV.II: with her twirling spindle [with twirling spindle]

IV.V Footnote 48: (laborabat) ... ‘auxiliares.’

[(laborat) ... ‘auxiliaries.’]

IV.VII: And what madness can do [what madness man can do]

_“madness” is the grammatical subject: “quidque furor valeat”_

IV.VII Footnote 57: These were the Furies [furies]

IV.VII Footnote 63: Tisiphone importuna [importune]

IV.VII Exp: by whom he had Helle and Phryxus [Phrysus]

IV.VIII Exp: Bochart says [Bochard]

_last letter of “Bochart” illegible in Bell_

IV.X: Soon as the descendant of Abas beheld her [So soon as]

_Bell wording adopted for consistency_

--: When he has lighted {on the ground}

_“on the ground” not italicized_

IV.X Footnote 84: præpetes [præptes]

IV.X: on the silent plain [on the salient plain]

_“salient” is clearly wrong, but “silent plain” is also an odd

translation of “vacuo ... arvo”_

IV.X Exp: more common than it had been before [more common that]

V.I: both by his merits and his words [its merits]

V.I Footnote 7: _Syene._ ... (Book i. Ep. 5, l. 79)

_text reads “Book i. Ep. i. 79”; in the Bell printing the letter

“l” is damaged and could be misread as “i”_

V.I: thou, both her uncle and her betrothed [though, both]

V.I Footnote 8: a swingeing bowl [swinging]

V.I: the middle of the neck {of Pettalus} [Pattalus]

V.II Footnote 32: Ver. 302. [303]

V.III Footnote 43: pressed down by Lilybœum [Lilybæum]

V.IV: both her mother and her companions,[48] [and companions]

V.IV Footnote 50: _The Palici._ [Palaci]

V.IV Footnote 51: Dionysus [Dionysius]

_the names “Bacchius” and “Bacchus” in the same footnote are each

correct as printed_

V.IV Footnote 57: Cinnus [Cinus]

V.IV Footnote 61: tunc denique raptam Scisset [raptum]

_Bell also has “tum” for “tunc”; both words are valid_

V.IV Exp: the Isis of the Egyptians [the Isis of Egyptians]

--: the following circumstance: [circumstances:]

V.V Syn: Ceres proceeds in a fruitless search [the fruitless]

--: The Sirens have wings [rings]

V.V: it is {a mark of} affection [a {mark of}]

V.V: Footnote 67: The Greek name of a lizard being ἀσκάλαβος

[a lizard ἀσκάλαβος]

V.VI: Erymanthus and Elis [Eyramanthus]

--: Ho, Arethusa! Ho, Arethusa!

_text reads “Ho, Arethusa! Ho, Ar-/thusa!” at line break_

V.VI Exp: the oracle of Delphi [at Delphi]

V.VII: entrusted {to him} [to {him}]

V.VII Exp: which signified either ‘a winged dragon,’ or ‘a ship fastened

with iron nails or bolts.’ [signifies ... nails and bolts]

--: explainer of the mysteries of Eleusis [Eleusi]

VI.I Footnote 3: the purple [purples]

VI.I Exp: unless we should prefer [he]

--: St. Augustine [Augustin]

--: calling their attention to agricultural pursuits [agricultual]

--: had himself taken the figure

_text has “the // the” at page break_

--: numerous in the interior of Africa [is the]

VI.II: what {I wish} may fall upon herself [what I {wish}]

--: their wonted exercise {of riding} [of {riding}]

VI.III: her suckling breasts [sucking]

VI.IV: after he had drawn his clothes from his shoulder towards his

breast [shoulders]

_The Latin reads “... umeroque suas a pectore [or: ad pectora]

postquam / deduxit [or: diduxit] vestes ebur ostendisse sinistro”. It

is possible to construct a Latin variation that would translate as

“from his shoulders”, but editorial or typographic error is a much

likelier explanation._

VI.IV Exp: Livy and Quintus Curtius [Quintius]

--: Marsyas may have been rash enough [Maryas]

VI.V: beyond what is becoming [his]

VI.VI: forced {from her} [{from} her]

--: from excess of affection [from the excess]

VI.VII Footnote 73: and in the Art of Love [and the Art ...]

VII.I: {is wont} to increase [is {wont}]

VII.II: a counterfeited quarrel [counterfeit]

--: the guards together with their king [with the king]

_Latin “rege suo”_

--: they turn away their eyes [they, turning away their eyes]

_Latin “oculosque reflectunt”_

VII.III Footnote 62: ... This was not Thessalian Tempe

_“w” in “was” invisible_

VII.III Footnote 69: who was said to have lived there

[who was to have]

VII.III Exp: the young princess perished in the greatest misery

_text has “in / in” at line break_

--: the account of the women of Cos being changed [accounts]

VII.IV Footnote 75: dragged from Tartarus by Hercules [Herculea]

VII.IV Footnote 86: Anaphe [Anophe]

VII.V Syn: the island of Ægina [islands]

VII.V: the grandson of Asopus says, “Thou askest in vain [asketh]

--: the souls of sons, and of husbands [the souls of the sons]

VII.VI Exp: gave occasion to the report [of the report]

VII.VII Syn: discovering his suspicions [suspicion]

VII.VII: {standing} in the middle [{standiny}]

VII.VIII Exp: as Apollodorus tells us [tell]

_Corrections made by McKay, with Bell/Bohn text shown in brackets_

III.VI Exp: phenomenon (_two occurrences_)

_Bell spells “phœnomenon” (error for “phænomenon”)_

IV.IV Exp: beloved by Smilax [Simlax]

IV.V heading:

_Bell misprints “Fable IV”_

IV.VII Exp: Learchus and Melicerta [Melacerta]

V.I Footnote 17: _Now deceived._ [How deceived]

_footnote marker missing in Bell_

VI.II Exp: Valerius Flaccus relates the sorrow of Clytie [Clyte]

VI.VI Exp: the ancients thereby portrayed [pourtrayed]

VI.VII Footnote 74: _The Ciconians._

_footnote marker missing in Bell_

VII.II Footnote 40: _And his hair._

_footnote marker missing in Bell_

_Variations_

The readings listed here are “wrong” in the sense that they are

different from what is found in the Bell/Bohn text, but they are

acceptable translations of the Latin. The Bell text is shown in

brackets.

III.II: The Earth, too, scraped with the scales [his scales]

--: nor engage thyself in civil war [a civil war]

--: the youths ... beat with throbbing breast [breasts]

III.III: to bathe her virgin limbs in clear water [the clear water]

III.VIII: in vain try to restrain him [strive]

--: I made observations with my eyes [observation]

IV.I: the Sun, with its rays [his rays]

IV.VII: foam formed in the hollowed deep [hallowed]

_The Latin has at least three variant readings: “in medio ...

profundo”, “immenso ... profundo” and “dīo profundo”. Riley’s

translation must have been based on the “dio” reading._

IV.X: the name both of her country and herself

[... of the country and of herself]

V.IV: grasp {in your hand} [{in your hands}]

_the Latin has only the verb “prendere” (grasp)_

V.VI: thy darts enclosed in a quiver [the quiver]

VI.III: oft to sit on the bank of the pool [often]

VI.V: delay will be tedious to me, and [to me. And]

VI.VI: she prepared for a horrible deed [horrid]

VII.II: to go far thence [afar]

_Unusual or Inconsistent Spellings and Name Forms_

Dieresis is unpredictable in both editions; forms such as “Phaeton”,

“Ocyrrhöe” and “Danäe” are common, and have been silently corrected.

Since the ligatures “æ” and “œ” are used consistently, dieresis can be

assumed even when not explicitly indicated.

_Unless otherwise noted, comments apply to both texts._

III.VIII Footnote 92: the buccanier Morgan

IV.VIII Exp: they beheld stedfastly

V.II, VI.V: villany

Cæus, Calisto, Lilybœus, Phyale, Phryxus, Progne

_these forms are used consistently; the original forms are Cœus

(Κοιος), Callisto (Καλλιστω), Lilybæus (Λιλυβαιος), Phiale (Φιαλη),

Phrixus (Φριξος), Procne (Προκνη). Note that in the main text, the

name “Callisto” is never used, probably on metrical grounds._

Damasicthon, Erectheus _and similar_

_spellings in “-cth-” used consistently in place of “-chth-” (-χθ-).

Achæa/Achaia; Ethiopia/Æthiopia; Phocea/Phocæa; Proserpine/Proserpina

_both forms occur, with McKay text following Bell in all cases_

_Greek_

_Most errors in Greek words can be attributed to a typesetter who did

not know Greek. Errors and omissions in diacritical marks have been

silently corrected; only the more significant errors are listed._

I.VII Footnote 47: ἐν τῇ ἔρα ναίειν [ἵρα ναιειν (McKay)]

II.XII Footnote 84: δέξαι [δεζαί (McKay)]

II.XIV Exp: Ἑλλωτὶς

_both texts read Ἐλλωτὶς with smooth breathing_

III.III Footnote 50: θοὸς

_both texts read θοὺς_

III.IV Exp: Πανβασίλεια [Πανβασιγεια (McKay)]

III.VI Footnote 68: Λείριον [Λείοιον (McKay)]

III.VIII Footnote 86: ἀκοίτης

_McKay reads ἁκόιτης with rough breathing; both have misplaced accent_

III.VIII Footnote 87: ὠλέναι

_both texts read ωλήναι; McKay has initial ώ for ὠ_

IV.I Footnote 5: Εὐοῖ Βάκχε, ὦ Ἰακχε, Ιώ Βάκχε, Εὐοῖ σαβοῖ

_text given as printed; exact form (with consistent capitalization)

is probably Εὐοῖ Βάκχε, Ὦ Ἴακχε, Ἰώ Βάκχε, Εὐοῖ σαβαῖ_

IV.I Footnote 6: λύειν [κύειν (McKay)]

V.II Footnote 31: χαῖρε, χαῖρε [χαῖρε, χσἴρε (McKay)]

VII.VI Footnote 105: πελειαδαι

_text unchanged, but intended form is probably πελειάδες_

VII.VI Exp: μύρμηξ [μύρμης (McKay)]

_Punctuation_

_The McKay (Philadelphia) edition sometimes uses double quotes where the

Bell (London) edition used single quotes. These are not individually

noted; neither is variation between colons and semicolons, and random

use of commas. Invisible punctuation at line-end has been supplied from

Bell._

_Shared errors and irregularities in punctuation_

IV.VII Footnote 69: _Guiltless granddaughter._

_both print “grand-daughter” with anomalous hyphen_

VI.III: ‘Young man, there is no mountain Divinity for this altar....

_This embedded single quote was apparently abandoned by the editor;

each double quote for the remainder of the Fable should be accompanied

by a single quote._

I.XII Footnote 80: quod amor non est / medicabilis herbis.’

IV.I: our words to our loving ears.’

IV.IV: I will entertain your minds with a pleasing novelty.”

IV.X: {if} preserved by my valor.”

IV.X: those snakes which she {thus} produced.”

V.II: oft have the Gods above entered more humble cottages.’

V.II: Let the Nymphs decide the contest.”

_close quote missing in all_

_Punctuation errors introduced in McKay edition_

[Verso of title page] Sherman & Co., Philadelphia

_period invisible_

[General Introduction] about, ninety miles from Rome

_here and elsewhere, commas are as in the original_

I.VI Exp: for it repenteth me that I have made them.’” [made them’]

_Bell omits quotes for Biblical citation_

III.III: Thoüs,[50] [Thoüs,[50],]

IV.II: and he, no longer delaying [and, he,]

--: ‘I am he .... thou art pleasing to me.’ [‘I am .... to me.”]

IV.VII: with newly formed wings? [wings!]

V.VI: Why art thou, Arethusa, a sacred spring?’

_missing close quote_

V.VI Exp: a mere fable; [fable!]

VI.II: she says, “What madness is this

_missing open quote_

--: exult and triumph, my victorious enemy. But why victorious?

[enemy, But why v’ctorious?]

VI.III: hold out their little arms from my bosom’

_missing close quote_

VII.IV Exp: Egyptian notions on the future state of man. [of man,]

VII.V Syn: the surprising manner in which it had been re-peopled.

_invisible hyphen_

VII.V: says Cephalus:[99] “and I pray

_missing open quote_

--: not room sufficient for the tombs, nor trees for the fires.”

_missing close quote_

VII.VI: shall have changed to the South.”

_missing close quote_

_Footnote Numbers_

_Errors in McKay edition_

Bk. I, ll. 516-531 (Fable I.XII)

Footnotes on this page were printed as 66-69 instead of 76-79

(e-text note numbers 78-81); other pages were not affected.

Bk. IV, note 17*.

The footnote tag was numbered as a second 17; the note itself was

numbered the first of two 18.

_Adjustments_

In the original text-- both editions-- footnote numbers began from 1 in

each Book, and started over when the count passed 99. Almost all Books

had duplications in the sequence, usually in the form “17*”. In this

e-text, footnotes have been renumbered consecutively within each Book,

without duplication; Books I and VII continue past 100.

Interpolations:

Bk. I: 51*, 67*

Bk. II: 4*, 71*

Bk. III: 72*, 88*

Bk. IV: 17*, 37*, 77*

Bk. V: 46*, 76*

Bk. VI: (no change from original sequence)

Bk. VII: 4*, 73*, 2* (second series)

_Line Numbers (printed as page headers)_

Line numbers in the McKay edition were generally correct, although

different from those in Bell due to changes in pagination. Some book

numbers in the McKay edition were misprinted:

[II. 550-564] _printed as Bk. XV_

[II. 605-632] _printed as Bk. XV_

[II. 632-651] _printed as Bk. XIV_

[II. 652-675] _printed as Bk. XV_

[II. 676-693] _printed as Bk. XV_

[IV. 233-237] _printed as Bk. I_

[V. 95-123] _printed as Bk. IV_

[V. 123-151] _printed as Bk. IV_

[V. 350-373] _printed as Bk. IV_