The amorous Glaucus griev'd, and spurn'd the love
Of Circé, who so rancorously had us'd
The power of plants. Her station Scylla kept;
And soon as scope for vengeance she perceiv'd,
In hate to Circé, of his comrade crew
Depriv'd Ulysses. Next the Trojan fleet
Had she o'erwhelm'd; but ere they pass'd, transform'd
To stone, she tower'd aloft a flinty rock,
And still do mariners that rock avoid.
The Phrygian ships that danger 'scap'd, and 'scap'd
Charybdis fell, by oars propell'd; but now
Ausonia's shore well nigh attain'd, were driv'n
By adverse tempests to the Libyan coast.
Æneäs then the queen Sidonian took
Most welcome to her bosom, and her dome;
Nor bore her Phrygian spouse's sudden flight,
With calm indifference: on a lofty pile
Rear'd for pretended sacred rites, she stood,
And on the sword's point fell; herself deceiv'd,
She all around outwitted. Flying far
The new-rais'd city of the sandy plains
To Eryx' country was he borne; where liv'd
Acestes faithful: here he sacrific'd,
And gave due honors to his father's tomb.
Then loos'd his ships for sea, well nigh in flames
By Juno's Iris: all th' Æoliän realm;
The islands blazing with sulphuric fire;
And rocks of Acheloüs' siren nymphs,
He left. The vessel now, of him who rul'd
The helm, bereft, along Ænaria's shore;
And Prochytas; and Pithecusa, plac'd
Upon a sterile hill, its name deriv'd
From those who dwelt there, coasted. Erst the sire
Of gods, detesting perjuries and fraud,
Which that deceitful race so much employ'd,
Chang'd to an animal deform'd their shapes;
Where still a likeness and unlikeness seems
To man. Their every limb contracted small;
Their turn'd-up noses flatten'd from the brow;
And ancient furrows plough'd adown their cheeks.
Then sent them, all their bodies cover'd o'er
With yellow hairs, this district to possess.
Yet sent them not till of the power of speech
Depriv'd; and tongue for direst falsehoods us'd:
But left their chattering jaws the power to 'plain.
These past, and left Parthenopé's high towers
To right; and musical Misenus' tomb,
And Cuma's shores to left; spots cover'd thick
With marshy reeds, he enters in the cave
Where dwelt the ancient Sybil; and in treats
That through Avernus' darkness he may pass,
His father's shade to seek. Then she, her eyes,
Long firmly fixt on earth, uprais'd; and next,
Fill'd with the god, in furious raving spoke.
“Much dost thou ask, O man of mighty deeds!
“Whose valor by the sword is amply prov'd,
“And piety through flames. Yet, Trojan chief,
“Fear not; thou shalt what thou desir'st attain:
“By me conducted, thou th' Elysian field,
“The lowest portion of the tri-form realm,
“And thy beloved parent's shade shalt see:
“No path to genuine virtue e'er is clos'd.”
She spoke, and pointed to th' Avernian grove,
Sacred to Proserpine; and shew'd a bough
With gold refulgent; this she bade him tear
From off its trunk. Æneäs her obeys,
And sees the treasures of hell's awful king;
His ancestors', and great Anchises' shades:
Is taught the laws and customs of the dead;
And what deep perils he in future wars
Must face. As then the backward path he trode
With weary'd step; the labor he beguil'd
By grateful speech with his Cumæan guide.
And, while through darkling twilight he pursu'd
His fearful way, he thus:—“Or, goddess, thou,
“Or of the gods high-favor'd, unto me
“Still shalt thou as a deity appear.
“My life I own thy gift, who hast me given
“To view the realms of death: who hast me brought,
“The realms of death beheld, to life again.
“For these high favors, when to air restor'd
“Statues to thee I'll raise, and incense burn.”
Backward the prophetess, to him her eyes
Directs, and heaves a sigh; as thus she speaks:
“No goddess I; deem not my mortal frame
“The sacred incense' honors can deserve:
“Err not through ignorance. Eternal youth
“Had I possess'd, if on Apollo's love
“My virgin purity had been bestow'd.
“This while he hop'd, and while he strove to tempt
“With gifts,—O, chuse—he said,—Cumæan maid!
“Whate'er thou would'st—whate'er thou would'st is thine.
“I, pointing to an heap of gather'd dust,
“With thoughtless mind, besought so many years
“I might exist, as grains of sand were there:
“Mindless to ask for years of constant youth.
“The years he granted, and had granted too
“Eternal youth, had I his passion quench'd.
“A virgin I remain; Apollo's gift
“Despis'd: but now the age of joy is fled;
“Decrepitude with trembling steps has come,
“Which long I must endure. Seven ages now
“I have existed; ere the number'd grains
“Are equall'd, thrice an hundred harvests I,
“And thrice an hundred vintages must see.
“The time will come, my body, shrunk with age,
“And wither'd limbs, shall to small substance waste;
“Nor shall it seem that e'er an amorous god
“With me was smitten. Phœbus then himself
“Or me will know not, or deny that e'er
“He sought my love. Till quite complete my change,
“To all invisible, by words alone
“I shall be known. Fate still my voice will leave.”
On the steep journey thus the Sybil spoke:
And from the Stygian shades Æneäs rose,
At Cuma's town; there sacrific'd as wont,
And to the shores proceeded, which as yet
His nurse's name not bore. Here rested too,
After long toil, Macareus, the constant friend
Of wise Ulysses: Achæmenides,
Erst left amid Etnæan rocks, he knows:
Astonish'd there, his former friend to find,
In life unhop'd, he cry'd; “What chance? What god
“O Achæmenides! has thee preserv'd?
“How does a Greek a foreign vessel bear?
“And to what shores is now this vessel bound?”
Then Achæmenides, not ragged now,
In robes with thorns united, but all free,
Thus answer'd his enquiries. “May I view
“Once more that Polyphemus, and those jaws
“With human gore o'erflowing; if I deem
“This ship to me than Ithaca less dear;
“And less Æneäs than my sire esteem.
“For how too grateful can I be to him,
“Though all to him I give? Can I e'er be
“Unthankful or forgetful? That I speak,
“And breathe, and view the heavens and glorious sun
“He gave: that in the Cyclops' jaws my life
“Was clos'd not; that when now the vital spark
“Me quits, I may be properly intomb'd,
“Not in the monster's entrails. Heavens! what thoughts
“Possess'd my mind, (unless by pallid dread
“Of sense and thought bereft) when, left behind,
“I saw you push to sea. Loud had I call'd,
“But fear'd my cries would guide to me the foe.
“Ulysses' clamor near your ship destroy'd.
“I saw the monster, when a mighty rock,
“Torn from a mountain's summit, in the waves
“He flung: I saw him when with giant arm
“Huge stones he hurl'd, with such impetuous force,
“As though an engine sent them. Fear'd I long,
“Lest or the stones or waves the bark would sink;
“Forgetful then that not on board was I.
“But when you 'scap'd from cruel death, by flight,
“Then did he madly rave indeed; and roam'd
“All Etna o'er; and grop'd amid the woods;
“Depriv'd of sight he stumbles on the rocks;
“And stretching to the sea his horrid arms,
“Blacken'd with gore, he execrates the Greeks;
“And thus exclaims;—O! would some lucky chance
“Restore Ulysses to me, or restore
“One of his comrades, who might glut my rage;
“Whose entrails I might gorge; whose living limbs
“My hand might rend; whose blood might sluice my throat;
“And mangled members tremble in my teeth.
“O! then how light, and next to none the curse
“Of sight bereft.—Raging, he this and more
“Fierce utter'd. I, with pallid dread o'ercome,
“Beheld his face still flowing down with blood;
“The orb of light depriv'd; his ruthless hands;
“His giant members; and his shaggy beard,
“Clotted with human gore. Death to my eyes
“Was obvious, yet was death my smallest dread.
“Now seiz'd I thought me; thought him now prepar'd
“T'inclose my mangled bowels in his own:
“And to my mind recurr'd the time I saw
“Two of my comrades' bodies furious dash'd
“Repeated on the earth: he, o'er them stretcht
“Prone, like a shaggy lion, in his maw
“Their flesh, their entrails, their yet-quivering limbs,
“Their marrow, and cranch'd bones, greedy ingulf'd.
“Horror me seiz'd. Bloodless and sad I stood,
“To see him champ, and from his mouth disgorge
“The bloody banquet; morsels mixt with wine
“Forth vomiting: and such a fate appear'd
“For wretched me prepar'd. Some tedious days
“Skulk'd I, and shudder'd at the smallest sound:
“Fearful of death, yet praying much to die;
“Repelling hunger by green herbs, and leaves,
“With acorns mixt; a solitary wretch,
“Poor, and to sufferings and to death decreed.
“Long was the time, ere I, not distant far,
“A ship beheld; I by my gestures shew'd
“My wish for flight, and hasten'd to the shore.
“Their hearts were mov'd, and thus a Trojan bark
“Receiv'd a Greek.—And now, my friend most dear,
“Tell thy adventures, and the chief's, and crew's,
“Who with thee launch'd upon th' extended main.”
He tells how Æölus his kingdom holds
On the deep Tuscan main, who curbs the winds
In cavern'd prisons; which, a noble boon!
Close pent within an ox's stubborn hide,
Dulichium's chief, from Æölus receiv'd.
How for nine days with prosperous breeze they sail'd;
And saw the long-sought land. How on the tenth,
Aurora rising bright, his comrades, urg'd
By envy, and by thirst of glittering spoil,
Gold deeming there inclos'd, the winds unloos'd.
How, driven by them, the ship was backward sped
Through the same waves she had so lately plough'd;
And reach'd the port of Æölus again.
“Thence,”—he continued—“to the ancient town
“Of Lestrygonian Lamus we arrive,
“Where rules Antiphates; to him dispatch'd
“I go, by two attended. I with one
“Scarce find in flight our safety: with his gore
“The hapless third, the Lestrigonians' jaws
“Besmears: our flying footsteps they pursue,
“While fierce Antiphates speeds on the crowd.
“Around they press, and unremitting hurl
“Huge rocks, and trunks of trees; our men o'erwhelm,
“And sink our fleet; one ship alone escapes,
“Which great Ulysses and myself contains.
“Most of our band thus lost, and angry much,
“Lamenting more, we floated to these isles,
“Which hence, though distant far, you may descry.
“Those isles, by me too near beheld, do thou
“At distance only view! O, goddess-born!
“Most righteous of all Troy, (for now no more,
“Æneäs, must thou enemy be stil'd
“To us, war ended) fly, I warn thee, fly
“The shore of Circé. We, our vessel moor'd
“Fast to that beach, not mindless of the deeds
“Antiphates perform'd, nor Cyclops, wretch
“Inhuman, now to tempt this unknown land
“Refuse. The choice by lot is fix'd. The lot
“Me sends, and with me sends Polites true;
“Eurylochus; and poor Elphenor, fond
“Too much of wine; with twice nine comrades mote,
“To seek the dome Circéan. Thither come;
“We at the entrance stand: a thousand wolves,
“And bears, and lionesses, with wolves mixt,
“Meet us, and terror in our bosoms strike.
“But ground for terror none: of all the crew
“None try our limbs to wound, but friendly wave
“Their arching tails, and fawningly attend
“Our steps; till by the menial train receiv'd,
“Through marbled halls to where their mistress sate,
“Our troop is led. She, in a bright recess,
“Upon a lofty throne of state, was plac'd,
“Cloth'd in a splendid robe; a golden veil
“Around her head, and o'er her shoulders thrown.
“Nereïds, and nymphs around (whose fingers quick
“The wool ne'er drew, nor form'd the following thread)
“Were plants arranging, and selecting flowers,
“And various teinted herbs, confus'dly mixt
“In baskets. She compleats the work they do;
“And well she knows the latent power each leaf
“Possesses; well their force combin'd she knows:
“And all the nice-weigh'd herbs inspects with care.
“When us she spy'd, and salutations pass'd
“Mutual; her forehead brighten'd, and she gave
“Our every wish. Nor waited more, but bade
“The beverage of the roasted grain be mix'd;
“And added honey, all the strength of wine,
“And curdy milk, and juices, which beneath
“Such powerful sweetness undetected lay.
“The cup from her accursed hand, I take,
“And, soon as thirsty I, with parch'd mouth drink,
“And the dire goddess with her wand had strok'd
“My head (I blush while I the rest relate)
“Roughen'd with bristles, I begin to grow;
“Nor now can speak; hoarse grunting comes for words;
“And all my face bends downwards to the ground;
“Callous I feel my mouth become, in form
“A crooked snout; and feel my brawny neck
“Swell o'er my chest; and what but now the cup
“Had grasp'd, that part does marks of feet imprint;
“With all my fellows treated thus, so great
“The medicine's potency, close was I shut
“Within a sty: there I, Eurylochus
“Alone unalter'd to a hog, beheld!
“He only had the offer'd cup refus'd.
“Which had he not avoided, he as one
“The bristly herd had join'd; nor had our chief,
“The great Ulysses, by his tale inform'd
“To Circé come, avenger of our woe.
“To him Cyllenius, messenger of peace
“A milk-white flower presented; by the gods
“Call'd Moly: from a sable root it-springs.
“Safe in the gift, and in th' advice of heaven,
“He enters Circé's dome; and her repels,
“Coaxing to taste th' invidious cup; his head
“To stroke attempting with her potent wand;
“And awes her trembling with his unsheath'd steel.
“Then, faith exchang'd, hands join'd, he to her bed
“Receiv'd, he makes the dowry of himself
“That all his comrades' bodies be restor'd.
“Now are we sprinkled with innocuous juice
“Of better herbs; with the inverted wand
“Our heads are touch'd; the charms, already spoke,
“Strong charms of import opposite destroy.
“The more she sings her incantations, we
“Rise more from earth erect; the bristles fall;
“And the wide fissure leaves our cloven feet;
“Our shoulders form again; and arms beneath
“Are shap'd. Him, weeping too, weeping we clasp,
“And round our leader's neck embracing hang.
“No words at first to utter have we power,
“But such as testify our grateful joy.
“A year's delay there kept us. There, mine eyes
“In that long period much beheld; mine ears
“Much heard. This with the rest, in private told
“To me, by one of four most-favor'd nymphs
“Who aided in her spells: while Circé toy'd
“In private with our leader, she me shew'd
“A youthful statue carv'd in whitest stone,
“Bearing a feather'd pecker upon his head;
“Plac'd in a sacred shrine, with numerous wreaths
“Encircled. Unto my enquiring words,
“And wish to know who this could be, and why
“There worshipp'd in the shrine, and why that bird
“He bore,—then, Macareus,—she said—receive
“Thy wish; and also learn what mighty power
“My mistress boasts; attentive hear my words.
“Saturnian Picus in Ausonia's climes
“Was king; delighted still was he to train
“Steeds for the fight. The beauty you behold
“As man was his. So strong the 'semblance strikes,
“His real form in the feign'd stone appears.
“His mind his beauty equall'd. Nor as yet,
“The games quinquennial Grecian Elis gives,
“Four times could he have seen. He, by his face
“The Dryad nymphs who on the Latian hills
“Were born, attracted. Naiäds, river-nymphs,
“Him sought, whom Albula, and Anio bear;
“Almo's short course; the rapid stream of Nar;
“And Numicus; and Farfar's lovely shades;
“With all that Scythian Dian's woody realm
“Traverse; and all who haunt the sedgy lakes.
“But he, all these despis'd, lov'd one fair nymph,
“Whom erst Venilia, fame reports, brought forth
“To Janus on Palatiura's mount. When reach'd
“The nuptial age, preferr'd before the rest,
“Laurentian Picus gain'd the lovely maid.
“Wond'rous was she for beauty, wond'rous more
“Her art in song, and hence was Canens nam'd.
“Wont was her voice forests and rocks to move;
“Soothe savage beasts; arrest the course of streams;
“And stay the flying birds. While warbling thus
“With voice mature her song, Picus went forth
“To pierce amid Laurentium's fields the boars,
“Their native dwelling; on a fiery steed
“He rode; two quivering spears his left hand bore;
“His purple vestment golden clasps confin'd.
“In the same woods Apollo's daughter came,
“And from the fertile hills as herbs she cull'd,
“She left the fields, from her Circæan nam'd.
“When, veil'd by twigs herself, the youth she saw,
“Amaz'd she stood. Down from her bosom dropp'd
“The gather'd plants, and quickly through her frame
“The fire was felt to shoot. Soon as her mind
“Collected strength to curb the furious flame,
“She would have told him instant what she wish'd,
“But his impetuous steed, and circling crowd
“Of followers, kept her far.—Yet shalt thou not,
“If I but know my power, me fly; not should
“The winds thee bear away; else is the force
“Of plants all vanished, and my spells deceive.
“She said; and form'd an incorporeal shape
“Like to a boar; and bade it glance across
“The monarch's sight; and seem itself to hide
“In the dense thicket, where the trees grew thick:
“A spot impervious to the courser's foot.
“'Tis done; unwitting Picus eager seeks
“His shadowy prey; leaps from his smoking steed;
“And, vain-hop'd spoil pursuing, wanders deep
“In the thick woods. She baneful words repeats,
“And cursing charms collects. With new-fram'd verse
“Invokes strange deities: verse which erst while
“Has dull'd the splendid circle of the moon;
“And hid with rain-charg'd clouds her father's face.
“This verse repeated, instant heaven grew dark,
“And mists from earth arose: his comrades roam
“Through the dark paths; the king without a guard
“Is left. This spot, and time so suiting gain'd,
“Thus Circé cry'd—O fairest thou of forms!
“By those bright eyes which me enslav'd, by all
“Thy beauteous charms which make a goddess sue,
“Indulge my flame; accept th' all-seeing sun,
“My sire, for thine; nor, rigidly austere,
“Titanian Circé spurn.—She ceas'd; he stern
“Repuls'd the goddess, and her praying suit;
“Exclaiming,—be thou whom thou may'st, yet thine
“I am not; captive me another holds;
“And fervently, I pray, to lengthen'd years
“She still may hold me. Never will I wrong
“The nuptial bond with stranger's lawless love,
“While Janus' daughter, my lov'd Canens lives.—
“Sol's daughter then (re-iterated prayers
“In vain oft try'd) exclaim'd:—Nor shalt thou boast
“Impunity; nor e'er returning see
“Thy Canens; but learn well what may be done
“By slighted, loving woman: Circé loves,
“Is woman, and is slighted.—To the west
“She turn'd her twice, and turn'd her twice to east;
“Thrice with her wand she struck the youth, and thrice
“Her charm-fraught song repeated. Swift he fled,
“And wondering that more swift he ran than wont,
“Plumes on his limbs beheld. Constrain'd to add
“A new-form'd 'habitant to Latium's groves,
“Angry he wounds the spreading boughs, and digs
“The stubborn oak-tree with his rigid beak.
“A purple tinge his feathers take, the hue
“His garment shew'd; the gold, a buckle once,
“Which clasp'd his robe, to feathers too is chang'd;
“The shining gold circles his neck around:
“Nor aught remains of Picus save the name.
“Meantime his comrades vainly Picus call,
“Through all the groves; but Picus no where find.
“Circé they meet, for now the air was clear'd,
“The clouds dispers'd, or by the winds or sun;
“Charge her with crimes committed, and demand
“Their king; force threaten, and prepare to lift
“Their savage spears. The goddess sprinkles round
“Her noxious poisons and envenom'd juice;
“Invokes old night, and the nocturnal gods,
“Chaos, and Erebus; and Hecat's help,
“With magic howlings, prays. Woods (wond'rous sight!)
“Leap from their seats; earth groans; the neighbouring trees
“Grow pale; the grass with sprinkled blood is wet;
“Stones hoarsely seem to roar, and dogs to howl;
“Earth with black serpents swarms; unmatter'd forms
“Of bodies long defunct, flit through the air.
“Tremble the crowd, struck with th' appalling scene:
“Appall'd, and trembling, on their heads she strikes
“Th' envenom'd rod. From the rod's potent touch,
“For men a various crowd of furious beasts
“Appear'd: his form no single youth retain'd.