“Now loud the people, and the king demand,
“The wonted race. To me with anxious words
“Hippomenes, great Neptune's offspring pray'd—
“O Cytherea! I adjure thee, aid
“My bold attempt; from thee those flames I felt,
“Grant them thy succour.—Gales auspicious waft
“To me the tender prayers, my soul is mov'd:
“Nor long the aid so needful I delay.
“A tract there lies in Cyprus' richest lands,
“Nam'd Tamasene by those who dwell around,
“This ancient times made sacred unto me:
“And with this gift my temples were endow'd.
“'Midst of the field appears a shining tree;
“Yellow its leaves, its crackling branches gold.
“By chance there straying, from the boughs I pluck'd
“Three golden apples, bore them in my hand,
“And seen by none, except the favor'd youth,
“Approach'd Hippomenes, and taught their use.
“The trumpets gave the sign, each ready sprung—
“Shot from the barrier, and with rapid feet
“Skimm'd lightly o'er the sand. O'er the wide main
“With feet unwetted, they might seem to fly;
“Or sweep th' unbending ears of hoary grain.
“Loud shouts encouraging, and cheering words,
“On every side a stimulus afford,
“To urge the youth's exertions.—Now,—they cry,—
“Now, now, Hippomenes, the time to press!
“On, on! exert thy vigor—flag not now,—
“The race is thine.—The grateful sounds both heard,
“Megareus' son, and Schœneus' daughter; hard
“Which joy'd the most to judge. How oft her pace
“She slacken'd, when with ease she might have pass'd,
“And ceas'd unwilling on his face to gaze.
“Tir'd now, parch'd breathings from the mouth ascends
“Of Neptune's son, and far remote the goal.
“Then, as his last resource, he distant flung
“One of the tree's bright produce. In amaze
“The virgin saw it roll; and from the course
“Swerv'd, tempted to obtain the glittering fruit.
“Hippomenes o'ershoots her; all around
“Applauses ring. She soon corrects delay,
“And wasted moments, with more rapid speed,
“And leaves again the youth behind. Again,
“Delay'd to catch the second flying fruit,
“The youth is follow'd, and again o'erpass'd.
“Now near the goal they come,—O, goddess! now
“Who gave the boon assist; he said, and flung
“With youthful force obliquely o'er the plain,
“More to detain, the last bright glittering gold.
“In doubt the virgin saw it fly: I urg'd
“That she should follow; and fresh weight I gave
“The apple when obtain'd; thus by the load
“Her course impeding, and obtain'd delay.
“But lest my tale, in length surpass the race,
“The vanquish'd virgin was the victor's prize.
“Think'st thou Adonis, did I not deserve
“Most grateful thanks in smoking incense paid?
“Mindless, nor thanks, nor incense yielded he;
“And sudden anger in my bosom rag'd.
“Irk'd at the slight, I instantly provide
“That future times with less contempt behave:
“And 'gainst them both my raging bosom burns.
“Now pass'd they near a temple, long since rais'd
“By fam'd Echion, in a shady wood,
“To the great mother of the heavenly gods,
“When the long journey tempted to repose;
“And there, inspir'd by me, ill-tim'd desire
“Hippomenes excited. Near the fane
“A cave-like close recess dim-lighted stood,
“With native pumice roof'd, hallow'd of old;
“Where priests the numerous images had plac'd,
“Of ancient deities. They enter'd here,
“And with forbidden lust the place defil'd.
“The wooden images their eyes avert:
“The tower-crown'd goddess dubious stands to plunge,
“The guilty couple in the Stygian wave.
“Too light that sentence seems: straight yellow manes
“Cover their soft smooth necks; their fingers curve
“To mighty claws; their arms to fore-legs turn;
“And new-form'd tails sweep lightly o'er the sand:
“Angry their countenance glares; for speech they roar;
“They haunt the forests for their nuptial dome.
“Transform'd to lions, and by others fear'd,
“Their tam'd mouths champ the Cybeleïan reins.
“Do thou, O dearest boy! their rage avoid;
“Not theirs alone, but all the savage tribe,
“That stubborn meet with breasts the furious war;
“Not turn their backs for flight: lest bold too much,
“Thou and myself, have cause too much too mourn.—
“Thus she admonish'd; and by coupled swans
“Upborne, she cleft the air; but his brave soul
“Her cautious admonitions rash contemn'd.
“By chance his dogs the well-mark'd footprints trac'd,
“And from his lurking covert rous'd a boar;
“Whom with a stroke oblique, as from the brake
“To spring he went, the gallant youth transpierc'd.
“Instant, with crooked tusks, the gore-stain'd spear
“Wrench'd the fierce boar away, and at him rush'd,
“Trembling, and safety seeking: every fang
“Deep in his groin he plung'd, and on the sand
“Stretch'd him expiring. Cytherea, borne
“Through midmost ether in her chariot light,
“Had not at Cyprus with her swans arriv'd,
“When, known from far, she heard his dying groans;
“And thither turn'd her snowy birds. From high
“When lifeless she beheld him, in his blood
“Convulsive struggling, quick she darted down,
“She tore her garments, and she tore her hair;
“And with unpitying hands her breast she smote.
“Then, fate upbraiding first, she said;—Not all
“Shall bend to your decision; still shalt thou
“Remain, Adonis, monument of woe,
“Suffer'd by me! The image of thy death,
“Annual repeated, annual shall renew
“Remembrance of my mourning. But thy blood
“A flower shall form. Shalt thou, O Proserpine,
“A female body to a scented herb
“Transform; and I the Cinyreïan youth
“Forbidden be to change?—She said, and flung
“Nectar most odorous on the ebbing gore;
“Which instant swelling rose. So bubbles rise
“On the smooth stream when showery floods descend.
“Nor long the term, an hour's short space elaps'd,
“When the same teinted flower the blood produc'd:
“Such flowers the deep pomegranate bears, which hides
“Its purple grains beneath a flexile rind.
“But short its boast, for the same winds afford
“Its name, and shake them where they light adhere:
“Ripe for their fall in fragile beauty gay.”
The Eleventh Book.
Rage of the Thracian women. Massacre of Orpheus. The women transformed to trees by Bacchus. Midas' foolish wish to change all things he touched into gold. Contest of skill between Pan and Apollo. The ears of Midas transformed to asses ears. Troy built by Apollo and Neptune. Laömedon's perfidy. Hesioné freed by Hercules, and married to Telamon. Peleus and Thetis. Birth of Achilles. Chioné ravished by Mercury, and by Apollo. Slain by Diana. Her sire Dædalion changed into an hawk. A wolf changed by Thetis to marble. Voyage of Ceÿx to Delphos. Lost in a storm. Grief of Alcyoné. Morpheus acquaints her with her husband's death. Change of both to kingfishers. Æsacus into a cormorant.
THE
Eleventh Book
OF THE
METAMORPHOSES
OF
OVID.
While thus the Thracian bard the forests drew,
And rocks, and furious beasts with strains divine;—
Behold the Thracian dames! their madden'd breasts
Clad with the shaggy spoil of furious beasts,
Espy'd him from an hillock's rising swell,
As to his sounding strings he shap'd the song.
When one, her tresses in the ruffling air
Wild streaming, cry'd—“Lo! him who spurns our ties!”—
And full her dart 'gainst the harmonious mouth
Of Phœbus' son she flung: entwisted round
With leaves, a bruise without a wound appear'd.
A stone another for a weapon seiz'd;
The flying stone was even in air subdu'd
By harmony and song; and at his feet
Low fell, as suppliant for its daring fault.
But now the tumult swells more furious,—bounds
It knows not! mad Erinnys reigns around.
Yet all their weapons had his music's power
Soften'd; but clamor, Berecynthian horns,
Drums, clappings, bacchanalian shouts, and howls,
Drown'd the soft lyre. Then were the stones distain'd
With silenc'd Orpheus' blood. The Bacchæ first
Drove wide the crowding birds, the snakes, the beasts,
In throngs collected by his tuneful voice;
Glory of Orpheus' stage. From thence they turn'd
Their gory hands on Orpheus, and around
Cluster'd like fowls that in the day espy
The bird of darkness. Then as in the morn
The high-rais'd amphitheatre beholds
The stag a prey to hounds; so they the bard
Attack'd, and flung their Thyrsi twin'd with leaves;
For different use first form'd. Those hurl huge clods:
These branches torn from trees; and others stones.
Lest to their fury arms were wanting, lo!
A yoke of oxen with the ploughshare broke
The ground, not distant far; with sinews there
Of nervous strength, the husbandmen upturn'd
The stubborn soil; with sweat producing fruit.
These, when the troop they saw, affrighted fled,
Quitting their instruments of toil. Their rakes,
Their ponderous harrows, and their huge long spades,
Were scatter'd left on the deserted field.
These when their furious hands had seiz'd, and tore
From the strong oxen's heads the threatening horns,
Back they return'd to end the poet's fate;
And sacrilegious, as he stretch'd his hands,
They slaughter'd him! Then first in vain his words
Were utter'd; nought could then his speech avail.
Then, heavenly powers! his spirit was expell'd
And breath'd in air, even through that mouth whose sound
Hard rocks had heard, and wildest beasts had own'd.
For thee, O Orpheus! mourn'd the feather'd tribe,
And crowds of savage monsters; flinty rocks
Bewail'd thee; forests, which thy tempting song
So oft had caus'd to follow, wept; the trees,
Shorn of their pride, bewail'd with falling leaves.
Each stream, 'tis said, with flowing tears increas'd
Its current. Naïad nymphs and Dryads wore
Garments of sable tinge, with streaming hair.
Wide scatter'd lie his limbs. His head and lyre
Thou, Hebrus, dost receive; and while they glide,
Wond'rous occurrence! down the floating stream,
The lyre a mournful moan sends forth; the lips,
Now lifeless, murmur plaintive; and the bank
Echoes the lamentations. Borne along
To ocean, now his native stream they leave,
And reach Methymna on the Lesbian shore.
The head, expos'd thus on the foreign sand,
And locks still dropping with the watery wave,
A snake approach'd. But Phœbus gave his aid,
And check'd the greedy bite; with open jaws
The serpent rears in stone congeal'd, as then
Widely he gap'd. The ghost from earth descends,
And views the regions he had view'd before.
Exploring through th' Elysian fields he meets
His dear Eurydicé; with longing arms
He clasps her. Here they walk, now side by side,
With equal pace; now follows he, and now
A little space precedes her: Orpheus there
Back on Eurydicé in safety looks.
But Bacchus suffer'd not the heinous deed
Unpunish'd to remain; griev'd that the bard
Who sung his praises, thus was snatch'd away,
He bound the Thracian matrons, who the crime
Had perpetrated, fast by twisted roots
To earth as trees. He stretch'd their feet and toes,
Which follow'd him so swift, and struck their points
Deep in the solid earth: A bird ensnar'd
Thus finds his leg imprison'd by the wires
Hid by the crafty fowler, and his wings
Beats, while his fluttering draws more tight the noose.
So each, as firmly fixt to earth she stood,
Affrighted strove to fly, but strove in vain:
The flexile roots detain'd them; and fast ty'd,
Spite of their struggling bounds, while they explore
For toes and nails, and while they seek for feet,
They see the wood their taper legs conceal;
Their grieving hands to beat their thighs are rais'd;
Their hands strike solid wood: their shoulders, breasts,
Are also wood become. Their outstretch'd arms
Extended boughs appear'd, and boughs they were.