The Fourth Book.
Feast of Bacchus. Impiety and infidelity of Alcithoë and her sisters. Story of Pyramus and Thisbe. Amour of Mars and Venus. The lovers caught by Vulcan in a net. Sol's love for Leucothoë, and her change to a tree of frankincense. Clytié transformed to a sunflower. Tale of Salmacis and Hermaphroditus. Transformation of Alcithoë and her sisters to bats. Juno's fury. Madness of Athamas; and deification of Ino and Melicertes. Change of the Theban women to rocks and birds. Cadmus and Hermione changed to serpents. Perseus. Transformation of Atlas to a mountain. Andromeda saved from the sea monster. Story of Medusa.
THE
Fourth Book
OF THE
METAMORPHOSES
OF
OVID.
Warn'd by the dreadful admonition, all
Of Thebes the new solemnities approve;
Bring incense, and to Bacchus' altars bend.
Alcithoë only, Minyäs' daughter, views
His orgies still with unbelieving eyes.
Boldly, herself and sisters, partners all
In impious guilt, refuse the god to own,
The progeny of Jove. The prophet bids
Each mistress with her maids, to join the feast:
(Sacred the day from toil). Their breasts to clothe
In skins; the fillets from their heads to loose;
With ivy wreathe their brows; and in their hands
The leafy Thyrsus grasp. Threatening, he spoke,
In words prophetic, how th' affronted god
Would wreak his ire. Matrons and virgins haste;
Throw by their baskets; quit the loom, and leave
Th' unfinish'd threads: sweet incense they supply
Invoking Bacchus by his various names.
Bromius! Lyæus! power in flames produc'd!—
Produc'd a second time! god doubly born!
Born of two mothers! Nyseus! they exclaim;
Long-hair'd Thyoneus!—and the planter fam'd
Of genial grapes! Lenæus! too, they sing;
Nyctelius! Elelcus! and aloud
Iäcchus! Evan! with the numerous names,
O Liber! in the Grecian land thou hold'st.
Unwaning youth is thine, eternal boy!
Most beauteous form in heaven! a virgin's face
Thou seem'st to bear, when seen without thy horns.
Stoops to thy arms the East, where Ganges bounds
The dusky India:—Deity rever'd!
Thou impious Pentheus sacrific'd; and thou,
The mad Lycurgus punish'd with his axe:
By thee the Tyrrhene traitors, in the main
Were flung: Adorn'd with painted reins, thou curb'st
The lynxes in thy chariot yok'd abreast:
Thy steps the Satyrs and Bacchantes tread;
And old Silenus; who with wine o'ercharg'd,
With a long staff his tottering steps sustains:
Or on a crooked ass, unsteady sits:
Where'er thou enterest shout the joyous youth,
Females and males immingled: loud the drums
Struck by their hands resound;—and loudly clash
The brazen cymbals: soft the boxen flutes
| Deep and melodious sound! | |
| Now prays all Thebes |
“Thisbe, the brightest of the eastern maids;
“And Pyramus, the pride of all the youths,
“Contiguous dwellings held, in that fam'd town,
“Where lofty walls of stone, we learn were rais'd,
“By bold Semiramis. Their neighbouring scite,
“Acquaintance first encourag'd,—primal step
“To further intimacy: love, in time,
“Grew from this chance connection; and they long'd
“To join by lawful rites: but harsh forbade,
“Their rigid sires the union fate had doom'd.
“With equal ardor both their minds inflam'd,
“Burnt fierce; and absent every watchful spy
“By nods and signs they spoke; for close their love
“Conceal'd they kept;—conceal'd it burn'd more fierce.
“The severing wall a narrow chink contain'd,
“Form'd when first rear'd;—what will not love espy?
“This chink, by all for ages past unseen,
“The lovers first espy'd.—This opening gave
“A passage for their voices; safely through,
“Their tender words were breath'd in whisperings soft.
“Oft punctual at their posts,—on this side she,
“And Pyramus on that;—each breathing sighs,—
“By turns inhaling, have they mutual cry'd;—
“Invidious wall! why lovers thus divide?
“Much were it, did thy parts more wide recede,
“And suffer us to join? were that too much
“A little opening more, and we might meet
“With lips at least. Yet grateful still we own
“Thy kind indulgence, which a passage gives,
“And amorous words conveys to loving ears.
“Thus they loquacious, though on sides diverse,
“Till night their converse stay'd;—then cry'd, adieu!
“And each imprinted kisses, which the stones
“Forbade to taste. Soon as Aurora's fires
“Remov'd the shades of night, and Phœbus' rays
“From the moist earth the dew exhal'd, they meet
“As 'custom'd at the wall: lamenting deep,
“As wont in murmuring whispers: bold they plan,
“Their guards evading in the silent night,
“To pass the outer gates. Then, when escap'd
“From home, to leave the city's dangerous shade;
“But lest, in wandering o'er the spacious plains
“They miss to meet, at Ninus' sacred tomb
“They fix their assignation,—hid conceal'd
“Beneath th' umbrageous leaves. There grew a tree,
“Close bordering on a cooling fountain's brink;
“A stately mulberry;—snow-white fruit hung thick
“On every branch. The plot pleas'd well the pair.
“And now slow seems the car of Sol to sink;
“Slow from the ocean seems the night to rise;
“Till Thisbe, cautious, by the darkness veil'd,
“Soft turns the hinges, and her guards beguiles.
“Her features veil'd, the tomb she reaches,—sits
“Beneath th' appointed tree: love makes her bold.
“Lo! comes a lioness,—her jaws besmear'd
“With gory foam, fresh from the slaughter'd herd,
“Deep in th' adjoining fount her thirst to slake.
“Far off the Babylonian maid beheld
“By Luna's rays the horrid foe,—quick fled
“With trembling feet, and gain'd a darksome cave:
“Flying, she dropp'd, and left her robe behind.
“Now had the savage beast her drought allay'd,
“And backward to the forest roaming, found
“The veiling robe;—its tender texture rent,
“And smear'd the spoil with bloody jaws. The youth
“(With later fortune his strict watch escap'd)
“Spy'd the plain footsteps of a monster huge
“Deep in the sand indented!—O'er his face
“Pale terror spread: but when the robe he saw,
“With blood besmear'd, and mangled; loud he cry'd,—
“One night shall close two lovers' eyes in death!
“She most deserving of a longer date.
“Mine is the fault alone. Dear luckless maid!
“I have destroy'd thee;—I, who bade thee keep
“Nocturnal meetings in this dangerous place,
“And came not first to shield thy steps from harm.
“Ye lions, wheresoe'er within those caves
“Ye lurk! haste hither,—tear me limb from limb!
“Fierce ravaging devour, and make my tomb
“Your horrid entrails. But for death to wish
“A coward's turn may serve. The robe he takes,
“Once Thisbe's, and beneath th' appointed tree
“Bearing it, bath'd in tears; with ardent lips
“Oft fondly kissing, thus he desperate cries;—
“Now with my blood be also bath'd!—drink deep!
“And in his body plung'd the sword, that round
“His loins hung ready girt: then as he dy'd,
“Hasty withdrew, hot reeking from the wound,
“The steel; and backwards falling, press'd the earth.
“High spouts the sanguine flood! thus forth a pipe,
“(The lead decay'd, or damag'd) sends a stream
“Contracted from the breach; upspringing high,
“And loudly hissing, as the air it breaks
“With jets repeated. Sprinkled with the blood,
“The tree's white fruit a purple tinge receiv'd;
“Deep soak'd with blood the roots convey the stain
“Inly, and tinge each bough with Tyrian dye.
“Now Thisbe comes, with terror trembling still,
“Fearful, she Pyramus expecting waits:
“Him seek her beating bosom, and her eyes;
“Anxious the peril she escap'd to tell.
“Well mark'd her eyes the place,—and well the tree;
“The berries chang'd in color, long she doubts
“The same or no. While hesitating thus,
“The panting members quivering she beholds,
“Upon the sanguin'd turf; and back recoils!
“Paler than box her features grow; her limbs
“More tremble than when ocean fretful sounds,
“Its surface briskly by the breezes swept.
“Nor long the pause, her lover soon is known;
“And now her harmless breast with furious blows
“She punishes; her tresses wild she rends;
“Clasps the lov'd body; and the gaping wound
“Fills with her tears,—their droppings with the blood
“Immingling. On his clay-cold face she press'd
“Her kisses, crying;—Pyramus! what chance
“Has torn thee from me thus? My Pyramus!
“Answer me,—'tis thy dearest Thisbe speaks!
“She calls thee,—hear me,—raise that dying face!
“At Thisbe's name, his lids, with death hard weigh'd,
“He rais'd—beheld her,—and forever clos'd.
“Him dying thus,—her lacerated veil;
“The ivory scabbard empty'd of its sword;
“She saw,—at once the truth upon her mind
“Flash'd quick. Alas! thy hand, by love impell'd,
“Has wrought thy ruin: but to me the hand,
“In this, at least, shall equal force display,
“For equal was my love; and love will grant
“Sufficient strength the deadly wound to give.
“In death I'll follow thee; with justice call'd
“Thy ruin's wretched cause,—but comrade too.
“Thou whom, but death seem'd capable to part
“From me, shalt find ev'n death too weak will prove.
“Ye wretched mourning parents, his and mine!
“The dying prayers respect of him,—of me:
“Grant that, entomb'd together, both may rest;
“A pair by faithful love conjoined,—by death
“United close. And thou fair tree which shad'st
“Of one the miserable corse; and two
“Soon with thy boughs wilt cover,—bear the mark
“Of the sad deed eternal;—ting'd thy fruit
“With mournful coloring: monumental type
“Of double slaughter. Speaking thus, she plac'd
“The steely point, while yet with blood it smok'd,
“Beneath her swelling breast; and forward fell.
“Her final prayer reach'd heaven; her parents reach'd:
“Purple the berries blush, when ripen'd full;
“And in one urn the lovers' ashes rest.”