Thou, Jove's renowned offspring, fell'd the treesWhich lofty Œté bore, and built a pile:Then bade the son of Pæan bear thy bow,Thy mighty quiver, and thy darts, to viewOnce more the realm of Troy; and through his aidThe flames were plac'd below, whose greedy spiresSeiz'd on the structure. On the woody topThou laid'st the hide Nemæan, and thy head,Supported with thy club, with brow sereneAs though with garlands circled, at a feastThou laid'st, 'mid goblets fill'd with sparkling wine.
Now the strong fires spread wide o'er every part,Crackling, and seizing his regardless limbs,Who them despis'd. The gods beheld with fearThe earth's avenger. Jove, who saw their careWith joyous countenance, thus the powers address'd:“This fear, O deities! makes glad my heart;“And lively pleasure swells in all my breast,“That sire and sovereign o'er such grateful minds“I hold my sway; since to my offspring too“Your favoring care extends. No less, 'tis true,“His deeds stupendous claim. Still I'm oblig'd.“But from your anxious breasts banish vain fear;“Despise those flames of Œté; he who all“O'ercame, shall conquer even the flames you see:“Nor shall the power of Vulcan ought consume,“Save his maternal part: what he deriv'd“From me, is ever-during; safe from death;“And never vanquish'd by the force of fire.“That we'll receive, his earthly race compleat,“Amidst the heavenly host; and all I trust“My actions gladly will approve. Should one“Haply, with grief see Hercules a god,“And grudge the high reward; ev'n he shall grant“His great deserts demand it; and allow“Unwilling approbation.” All assent;Not even his royal spouse's forehead wore,A frown at ought he said; his final wordsIrk'd her at length, to be so plainly mark'd.Vulcan meantime each corruptible partBore off in flames, nor could Alcides' formRemaining, now be known; nought he retain'dOf what his mother gave; Jove's share alone.A serpent revels thus in glittering scales,His age and former skin thrown off at once.So when Tirynthius from his mortal limbsDeparted, in his better part he shone,Increas'd in stature; and majestic graceAugustly deck'd his venerable brow.Veil'd in a hollow cloud, and borne alongBy four swift steeds, in a high car, the sireHim plac'd in glory 'mid the radiant stars.Atlas perceiv'd his load increas'd. Nor yetEurystheus 'bated in his rancorous hate,But cruel exercis'd his savage rage,Against the offspring of the sire abhorr'd.
But now Alcmena, worn with constant cares,In Argolis, to Iölé confidesHer aged plaints, to her the labors tellsHer son atchiev'd, o'er all the wide world known;And her own griefs beside. Alcides' wordsCaus'd Hyllus to his couch to take, and takeIölé, cordial to his inmost heart:And now with generous fruit, the nymph was large.Alcmena, thus to her commenc'd her tale.—
“May thee, at least, the favoring gods indulge;“And all delay diminish, when matur'd,“Thou to Ilithyiä shalt have need to call,“Who o'er travailing mothers bears the rule;“Whom Juno's influence made so hard to me.“Of Hercules toil-bearing, now the birth,“Approach'd, and in the tenth sign rul'd the sun.“A mighty bulk swell'd out my womb, so huge,“Well might you know that Jove the load had caus'd:“Nor could I longer bear my throes (my limbs“Cold rigors seize, while now I speak; my pains“Part ev'n in memory now I seem to feel)“Through seven long nights, and seven long days with pangs“Incessant was I rack'd: my arms to heaven“Stretching, I call'd Lucina, and the powers,“With outcries mighty. True Lucina came,“But came by Juno prepossest, and bent“My life to sacrifice to Juno's rage.“Soon as my groans she hearken'd, down she sate“Upon the altar, plac'd without the gates:“'Neath her right ham, her left knee pressing; join'd“Fingers with fingers cross'd upon her breast“My labor stay'd; and spellful words she spoke“In whispering tone; the spellful words delay'd“Th' approaching birth. I strain, and madly rave“With vain upbraidings to ungrateful Jove,“And crave for death; in such expressions 'plain“As hardest flints might move. The Theban dames“Around me throng; assist me with their prayers;“And me my trying pains exhort to bear.“Galanthis, one who tended me, of race“Plebeïan; yellow-hair'd; and sedulous“What order'd to perform; and much esteem'd“For courteous deeds;—she first suspected, (what,“I know not) somewhat, form'd by Juno's pique:“And while she constant pass'd; now to, now fro,“She saw the goddess on the altar sit,“Girding her arms, with close-knit fingers o'er“Her knees, and said;—O dame, whoe'er thou art,“Our mistress gratulate. Alcmena now“Argolican, is lighten'd. Now the prayers“Of the child-bearer meet her hopes.—The dame“Who rules the womb, straight from her station leap'd,“And all astounded, her clench'd fingers loos'd:“I in that moment felt my bonds undone.“Galanthis, they report, the goddess mock'd“Thus cheated, by her laughter. Savage, she“Dragg'd her so laughing, by the tresses seiz'd,“And forc'd her down to earth, as up she strove“Erect to rise; and to forefeet her arms“Transform'd. The same agility remains;“Her back its colour keeps; her form alone“Is diverse. She, 'cause then her lying mouth“My birth assisted, by her mouth still bears:“And round my house she harbors as before.”—
She said, and by the memory mov'd, she mourn'dFor her lost servant, whom, lamenting, thusHer child-in-law address'd.—“If then the form“Alter'd, of one an alien to your blood,“O mother! thus affects you, let me tell“The wond'rous fortune which my sister met:“Though grief and tears will frequent choke my words.
“Her mother, Dryopé alone could boast,“(Me to my sire another bore) her charms“Œthalia all confess'd; whom (rifled first“Of virgin charms, when passively she felt“His force, who Delphos, and who Delos rules)“Andræmon took, and held a happy spouse.“A lake expands with steep and shelving shores“Encompass'd; myrtles crown the rising bank.“Here Dryopé, of fate unconscious came,“And what must more commiseration move,“Came to weave chaplets for the Naïad nymphs;“Her arms sustain'd her boy, a pleasing load,“His first year scarce complete, as with warm milk“She nourish'd him. The watery Lotus there,“For promis'd fruit in Tyrian splendor bright,“Grew flowering near. The flowers my sister cropp'd,“And held them to delight her boy; and I,“(For there I stood,) the same prepar'd to do;“But from the flowers red flowing drops I saw,“And all the boughs with tremulous shuddering shook.“Doubtless it is, (but far too late we learn'd“By the rough swains,) nymph Lotis, when she fled“From Priapus obscene, her shape transform'd“Into this tree which still retains her name.“My sister witless of this change, in fright“Would back retreat, and leave the nymphs ador'd,“But roots her feet retain: these from the ground“She strains to rend; but save her upper limbs“Nought can she move; a tender bark grows o'er“The lower parts, and her mid limbs invades.“This seeing, and her locks to rend away“Attempting; her rais'd hand with leaves was fill'd.“Leaves cover'd all her head. Amphyssus found,“(His grandsire had the child Amphyssus nam'd)“His mother's breasts grow hard; nor when he suck'd“Lacteal fluid gain'd he. I there stood,“Of her sad fate spectator: loud I cry'd—“But, O my sister! aid I could not bring;“Yet what I could I urg'd; the growing trunk,“And growing boughs, my close embraces staid:“In the same bark I glad had been enclos'd.“Lo! come her spouse Andræmon, and her sire“So wretched; and for Dryopé they seek:“A Lotus, as for Dryopé they ask,“I shew them; to the yet warm wood salutes“Ardent they give; and prostrate spread, the roots“They clasp of their own tree. Now, sister dear!“Nought save thy face but what a tree becomes.“Thy tears, the leaves thy body form'd, bedew.“And now, whilst able, while her mouth yet gives“To words a passage, such like plaints as these“She breathes;—If faith th' unhappy e'er can claim,“I swear by all the deities, this deed“I never merited: without a crime“My punishment I suffer. Innocent“My life has been. If I deceive, may drought“Parch those new leaves; and, by the hatchet fell'd,“May fire consume me. Yet this infant bear“From those maternal branches; to a nurse“Transfer him; but contrive that oft he comes“And 'neath my boughs let him his milk imbibe;“And 'neath my boughs sport playful. When with words“Able to hail me, let him me salute,“And sorrowing say;—Within that trunk lies hid“My mother—But the lakes, O! let him dread,“Nor dare from any tree to snatch a flower;“But think each shrub he sees a god contains.“Adieu! dear husband; sister dear, adieu!“Father, farewel! if pious cares you feel,“From the sharp axe defend my boughs, and from“The browsing flocks. And now, as fate denies“To lean my arms to yours,—your arms advance;“Approach my lips, whilst you my lips may touch:“And to them lift my infant boy. More words“I may not;—now the tender bark my neck,“So white, invades; my utmost summit hid.“Move from my lids your fingers, for the bark,“So rapid growing, will my dying eyes“Without assistance close.—Her lips to speak“Cease, and existence ceases: the fresh boughs“Long in the alter'd body warm were felt.”
While Iölé the mournful fact relates;And while Alcmena, from Eurytus' maid,With ready fingers dry'd the tears; herselfStill weeping, lo! a novel deed assuag'dTheir grief—for Iölaüs, scarcely youth,His cheeks with tender down just cover'd, standsWithin the porch; to early years restor'd.
Junonian Hebé, by her husband's prayersO'ercome, to Iölaüs gave the boon.Who, when to vow she went, that future timesShould none such gift enjoying, e'er perceive,Was check'd by Themis. “Now all Thebes,”—she said,“Discordant warfare moves. Through Jove alone“Capaneus can be conquer'd. Mutual wounds“Shall slay the brothers. In the yawning earth“A living prophet his own tomb shall see.“A son avenger of his parent's death“Upon his parent: impious for the deed,“At once, and pious: at the action stunn'd,“Exil'd from home, and from his senses driv'n,“The furies' faces, and his mother's shade“Shall haunt him; till his wife the fatal gold“Shall ask: and till the Phegian sword shall pierce“Their kinsman's side. Callirhoë then, the nymph“From Acheloüs sprung, suppliant shall seek“From Jove, her infants years mature may gain.“Mov'd by her prayers, Jove will from thee demand,“Son's spouse, and daughter of his wife, the boon“And unripe men thou'lt make the youths become.”
While Themis thus, with fate-foretelling lips,This spoke; the gods in murmuring grudgings mourn'd,Angry why others might not grant the gift.Aurora mourn'd her husband's aged years:Mild Ceres 'plain'd that Jason's hairs were white:Vulcan, for Erichthonius pray'd an ageRenew'd. E'en Venus future cares employ'd,Anxious for promise that Anchises' yearsReplenishment might find: And every godHad whom he lov'd; and dark sedition grewFrom special favor; till the mighty sireThe silence broke.—“If reverence I may claim,“Where rashly rush ye? Which of you the power,“Fate to control, possesses? Fate it was“Gave Iölaüs youth restor'd again:“By Fate Callirhoë's sons ere long shall spring“To manhood, prematurely; nor can arms“Nor yet ambition gain this gift. With souls“More tranquil bear this; since you see the fates“Me also rule. Could I the fates once change,“Old age should never bend Æäcus down;“And Rhadamanthus had perpetual spring“Of youth enjoy'd, with Minos, now despis'd“Through load of bitter years, nor reigns as wont.”
Jove's words the deities all mov'd; not oneLonger complain'd, when heavy press'd with yearsThey Æäcus, and Rhadamanthus saw;And Minos: who, when in his prime of age,Made mightiest nations tremble at his name.He, feeble then, at Deïoné's sonMiletus, trembled, who with youthful strength,And Phœbus' origin proud swol'n, and knownAbout to rise against his rule:—yet himHe dar'd not from his household roof to drive.But thou, Miletus, fled'st spontaneous, thouTh' Ægean waves in thy swift ship didst pass,And on the Asian land the walls didst foundWhich bear the builder's name. Cyancë here,Mæander's daughter, whose recurving banksShe often trode: (whose stream itself reseeksSo oft) in beauteous form, by thee was known,And, claspt by thee, a double offspring came,Byblis and Caunus, from the warm embrace.
Let Byblis warn, that nymphs should ne'er indulgeIllicit warmth. Her brother Byblis lov'd;Not as she ought; not with a sister's soul.No fires at first the maid suspected; noughtOf sin: the thought that oft her lips to hisShe wish'd to join, and clasp her arms aroundHis neck fraternal, long herself deceiv'd,Beneath the semblance of a duteous love.Love gradual bends to him her soul; she comesFully adorn'd to see him, anxious pantsBeauteous to seem; if one more beauteous thereShe sees, invidious she that face beholds.Still to herself unconscious was her love:No wish she form'd beneath that burning flame,Yet all within was fire. She call'd him lord,Now kindred's name detesting; anxious more,Byblis, than sister he should call her still.Yet waking, ne'er her soul durst entertainLascivious wishes. When relax'd in sleep,Then the lov'd object oft her fancy saw;Oft seem'd her bosom to his bosom join'd:Yet blush'd she, tranc'd in sleep. Her slumbers fly,She lies awhile in silence, and revolvesHer dream: and thus in doubting accents speaks;“Ah, wretch! what means this dream of silent night,“Which yet I oft would wish? Why have I known“This vision? Envy's eyes must own him fair,“And but his sister am I, all my love“He might possess; worthy of all my love.“A sister's claim then hurts me! O! at least“(While tempted thus I wakeful nought commit)“Let sleep oft visit with such luscious dreams:“No witness sees my sleeping joys; my joys,“Though sleeping, yet are sweet. O, Venus! O,“Thou feather'd Cupid, with thy tender dame!“What transports I enjoy'd! what true delight“Me thrill'd! how lay I, all my soul dissolv'd!“How joys it me to trace in mind again“The pleasure though so brief: for flying night“Invidious check'd enjoyment in the bud.“O Caunus! that an alter'd name might join“Us closely; that thy sire a sire-in-law“To me might be: O, Caunus, how I'd joy“Wert thou not son, but son-in-law to mine.“Would that the gods had all in common given,“Save parents only. Thou in lofty birth“I would should me excel. O beauteous youth!“A mother whom thou'lt make I know not; I“Ne'er can thee know but with a sister's love:“Parents the same as thine my hapless lot.“All that I have, me only pains the more.“What are to me my visions? Weight have dreams?“How much more happy are th' immortal gods!“The gods embrace their sisters. Saturn clasps“Ops, join'd to him by blood; Ocean enjoys“His sister Tethys; and Olympus' king“His Juno. Gods peculiar laws possess.“Why seek I then celestial rites to bring“Diverse, with human ord'nance to compare?“Forbidden love shall from my breast be driv'n,“Or that impossible, may death me seize“Instant, and cold upon my couch outstretch'd,“My brother then may kiss me as I lie.“Yet still my wish double consent requires.“Grant I should yield, still might the deed to him“Seem execrable. Yet th' Æolian youth“A sister's nuptial couch ne'er dreaded. Why,“O, why! on this so dwell? Why thus recal“Examples to my view? Where am I borne?“Hence, flames obscene! hence far! a sister's love,“And that alone my brother shall enjoy.“But had his soul first burn'd for me, perchance“I had indulg'd his passion. Surely then“I may demand, who would not, ask'd, refuse.“What couldst thou speak? Couldst thou confess thy flame?“Love forces, and I can. If shame my lips“Close binds; yet secret letters may disclose“The hidden flame.”—With this idea pleas'd,These words her hesitating mind resolv'd,Rais'd on her side, supported by her arm.—“He shall”—she said—“now know it; all my love“Preposterous confess'd. Alas! what depth“Now rush I to? What fire has seiz'd my soul?”—And then with tremulous hand the words compos'd.Her right hand grasps the style, the left sustainsThe waxen tablet smooth; and then begins.She doubts; she writes; condemns what now she wrote;Corrects; erases; alters; now dislikes;And now approves. Now throws the tablet by,Then seizes it again. Irres'lute whatShe would; whate'er is done displeases, all.Shame and audacious boldness in her faceAre mingled. Sister, once her hand had wrote,But sister, soon as seen, her hand eras'd;And her fair tablet bore such words as these.—“To thee, a lover salutation sends,“And health, which only thou to her canst give:“Asham'd, she blushes to disclose her name.“For should I press to gain my wish'd desire,“Without my name, my cause I trust would find“Successful aid. Let Byblis not be known“Till certain hopes of bliss her mind shall cheer.“Yet faded color, leanness, and pale face,“With constant dripping eye, and rising sobs“Shew my unhidden grief. Well might these prove“To thee an index of a wounded heart.“My constant clasping, numerous fond salutes,“If e'er thou'st mark'd, thou well might have perceiv'd“Not sister-like embracings. In my soul“Though this deep wound I bear; though in my breast“This fire consuming burns, yet strive I all,“(Witness, ye gods! my truth) all to suppress,“And act with wiser conduct: hapless war“Long have I wag'd 'gainst Cupid's furious rule“More pressure have I borne, than what a maid“Could e'er be thought to bear. At length o'ercome,“And forc'd to yield, thy help I must implore“With trembling voice: thou only canst preserve,“Thou only canst the loving nymph destroy.“With thee the choice remains. No foe thus sues,“But one by nearest ties to thee conjoin'd,“Pants to be join'd more nearly; link'd to thee“With closest bands. Let aged seniors learn“Our laws, and seek what moral codes permit.“What is permitted, and what is deny'd,“Let them enquire, and closely search the laws:“A bolder love more suits our growing years.“As yet we know not what the laws allow;“And judge for all things we free leave enjoy;“Th' example following of the mighty gods.“Nor parent stern, nor strict regard for fame,“Nor timid thoughts should check us; absent all“Should be each cause of fear. The dear sweet theft“Beneath fraternal love may be conceal'd;“With thee in secret converse I may speak,“Embrace thee, kiss thee in the open crowd;“How little then remains! Pity, forgive,“The declaration of this love, ne'er told“Had raging fire not urg'd it, nor allow“Upon my tomb this cause of death to stand.—”
Here the fill'd tablet check'd her hand, in vainThus writing, at the utmost edge the lines,But stay'd. Her crime straightway she firmly press'd,With her carv'd gem, and moisten'd it with tears:Her tears of utterance robb'd her. Bashful thenShe call'd a page, and blandishing in fearExclaim'd.—“Thou faithful boy, this billet bear—”And hesitated long ere more she said,Ere—“to my brother, bear it.”—As she gaveThe tablet, from her trembling hand it fell;The omen deep disturb'd her. Yet she sent.
A chosen hour the servant sought, went forthAnd gave the secret message. Sudden rageme youth Mæandrian petrify'd; and downThe half-read lines upon the ground he flung.His hand scarce holding from the trembling faceOf the pale messenger. “Quick, fly!” he cry'd,“Thou wicked pander of forbidden lust!“Fly while thou may'st; and know, had not thy fate“Involv'd our modest name, death hadst thou found.—”He terrify'd escapes, and backward bears,To his young mistress all fierce Caunus spoke.
Pale, thou, O Byblis! heardst the rough repulse;Thy breast with frigid chills beset. But soonHer spirits rally, and her furious loveReturns: scarce to the trembling air her tongueCan utterance give in these indignant words;—“Deserv'dly mourn I, who so rashly gave“Him of my wounds the conscious tale to learn.“Why trust so soon to words, what still might hid“Remain, on tablets hastily compos'd?“Why were not first the wishes of my soul“Try'd in ambiguous hints? First, sure I ought“Whence the wind blew have mark'd; nor loos'd my sails,“Him flying, to pursue, and the wide main“In all directions plough: now bellies out“My canvas; not a single course explor'd.“Hence am I borne against the rocks; hence 'whelm'd“In the wide depth of ocean; nor my sails“Know I to tack returning. Did not heaven“Check the indulgence of my love, by marks“Obvious to all? when from my hand down dropp'd“The tablet, which the boy was bade to bear.“Mark'd that my falling hopes not? More deferr'd“Thy wishes, or the day should sure have been;“Surely the day. For heaven itself me warn'd,“And certain signs me gave; but those my mind“Stupid neglected. Personal my words“Should I have urg'd, nor trusted to the wax.“In person should my love have been display'd.“Then had my tears been seen; then had he view'd“My raptur'd countenance; then had I spoke“Far more than power of letters can convey.“My arms around his neck I then had thrown“Howe'er unwilling; and, had he been coy,“In dying posture I his feet had clasp'd;“And stretch'd before him life demanding, all“Had I achiev'd. Perchance though, by the boy,“My messenger commission'd, I have fail'd:“Aptly perhaps he enter'd not; perhaps,“And much I fear, improper hours he chose;“Nor sought a vacant time, when nought his mind“Disturb'd. This has, alas! my hopes destroy'd:“For from a tiger Caunus sprung not; round“His heart not solid steel, nor rigid flint,“Nor adamant is girt; nor has he suck'd“The lioness's milk. He shall be bent,“And gain'd his heart shall be; nor will I brook“The smallest bar to what I undertake,“While now this spirit holds. My primal wish“(If it were given I might revoke my deeds)“Is, I had ne'er commenc'd: my second now“Is, that I persevere in what's begun.“For should I now my wishes not pursue,“Still must he of those daring wishes think;“And should I now desist, well might he judge“Form'd lightly my desires: or plann'd to try“His virtue, and involve in snares his fame:“Or, (dreadful!) think me not by love o'ercome,“(Who burns and rages fiercely in my breast)“But by hot lust. For now conceal'd no more“My guilty act can be; I've written once,“Once have I ask'd; corrupted all my soul.“Should further no depravity ensue,“Guilty I must be call'd. What more remains,“In crime is little, but in hope immense.”—
She said, and such the wavering of her breast,That, whilst the trial grieves her which she made,Farther to try she wishes; every boundO'erpassing; and, with luckless fate, her suitStill meets repulsion. He, when endless seem'dHer pressing, fled his country, and the crime;And in a foreign region rais'd new walls.
Then, daughter of Miletus, they report,Forsook thee all thy senses; then in truthThou rent thy garments from thy breast; thy breastThy furious hands hard smote. Now to the worldMadly she raves; now to the world displaysHer wish'd-for love, deny'd: all hope—despair!She too forsook her country, and the roofSo hated; and the vagrant steps pursu'dHer flying brother trode. As Thracia's damesO, son of Semelé! thy Thyrsus shakeWhen celebrating thy triennial rites,So did the Carian matrons, Byblis seeFly o'er the wide-spread fields, with shrieks and howls:These left behind, o'er Caria's plains she runs,And through the warlike Leleges, and throughThe Lycian realms. Now Cragos had she left,And Lymiré, and Xanthus' waves behind;With the high ridge Chimæra lifts, who burnsCentral with flames; his breast and front fierce arm'dA lion—tow'rd his tail a serpent form'd.Now all the forests past; thou Byblis, faintWith long pursuit, fall'st flat; on the hard groundThy locks are spread; dumb now thou ly'st; thy facePresses the fallen leaves. Oft in their armsSo delicate, the Lelegeïan nymphsTo raise thee up attempted. Oft they stroveTo give advice that might thy love control,And offer solace to thy deafen'd ear.Still silent Byblis lies; and with her nailsRends the green herbage; moistens all the grassWith rivulets of tears. And here, they say,The Naiäd nymphs their bubbling art supply'd.Ne'er drought to know: more to afford, their powerSure could not. Straightway, as the pitchy dropsFlow from the fir's cleft bark; from solid earthAs stiff bitumen oozes; or as streams,By cold congeal'd, thaw with the southern windAnd warming sun: Phœbean Byblis soBy her own tears exhausted, was transform'd,A fount becoming; which still in that vale,'Neath a dark ilex springing, keeps her name.
Now had the rumor of this wond'rous changeSpread rapid through the hundred towns of Crete,But Crete had lately seen a wond'rous changeIn her own clime, in Iphis' alter'd form.There in the Phestian land, near Gnossus' realmWas Lygdus born: a man of unknown fame,But a plebeïan of unblemish'd worth:Nor had he, more than noble stock, estate;Yet unimpeach'd for honesty his life.He thus the ears of his then pregnant spouseAddress'd, when near her bearing time approach'd:—“Two things my wishes bound; first that thy pains“May lightly press, next that a male thou bring'st:“More burdensome are females; strength to them“Nature denies. Then if by fate ordain'd“To give a female birth, which I detest,“Unwilling I command,—O piety!“Excuse it,—let the babe to death be given.”—He said, and tears profuse the cheeks bedewOf him who bade, and her who heard his words.Still Telethusa to the latest hour,With vain petitions strives her spouse to move,That thus he should not straighten so his hopes.Firm to his purpose Lygdus stood. And nowScarce could the heavy weight her womb sustain;When in the silent space of night, in sleepEntranc'd; or Isis stood before her bed,Or seem'd to stand; surrounded by the pompTo her belonging. On her forehead shoneThe lunar horns, and yellow wheat them boundIn golden radiance, with a regal crown.With her Anubis, barker came; and cameBubastis holy; Apis various-mark'd;He who the voice suppresses, and directsTo silence with his finger; timbrels loud;Osiris never sought enough; and snakesOf foreign lands full of somniferous gall.To her the goddess thus, as rais'd from sleepShe seem'd, and manifest each object stood:—“O vot'ry, Telethusa! fling aside“Thy weighty cares; thy husband's mandates cheat;“Nor waver, when Lucina helps thy pains:“Save it whate'er it be. A goddess I,“Assisting, still give aid when rightly claim'd:“Nor will it e'er thee grieve to have ador'd“An ingrate goddess.”—Thus as she advis'd,She vanish'd from the bed. The Cretan dameRose from the couch o'erjoy'd; and raising highTo heaven her guiltless hands, pray'd that her dreamOn truth was founded. Now her pains increas'd;And now her burthen forc'd itself to air:A daughter came, but to the sire unknown.The mother bade them rear it as a boy,And all a boy believ'd it; none the truth,The nurse excepted, knew. Glad prayers the sireOffers, and from its grandsire is it nam'd:(Iphis, the grandsire's appellation.) Joy'dThe mother hears the name, which either sexMay claim; and none, in that at least, deceiv'd;The lie lay hid beneath a pious fraud.The robes were masculine, the face was suchAs beauteous boy, or beauteous girl might own.
And now three annual suns the tenth had pass'd,Thy father, Iphis, had to thee betroth'dIänthé, yellow-hair'd; nymph most admir'd'Mongst all the Phestians, for her beauteous charms:Telestes of Dictæa was her sire.Equal in age, and equal in fair form;The self-same masters taught the early arts,Suiting their years. Their unsuspecting mindsWere both by love thus touch'd, in both was fix'dAn equal wound: but far unlike their hopes.Iänthé, for a spouse impatient looks,With nuptial torches. Whom a man she thinks,That spouse she hopes will be. Iphis too loves,Despairing what she loves e'er to enjoy:This still the more her love augments, and burnsA virgin for a virgin. Scarce from tearsRefraining;—“What,”—she cries,—“for me remains?“What will the issue be? What cure for this“New love, unknown to all, who prodigies“Possess in this desire? If the high gods“Me wish to spare, straight should they me destroy.“Yet would they me destroy, they should have given“A curse more natural; a more usual fate.“Love for an heifer ne'er an heifer moves;“Nor burns the mare for mares: rams follow ewes;“The stag pursues his female; birds thus join:“Nor animal creation female shews“With love of female seiz'd. Would none were I!“But lest all monstrous loves Crete might not shew;“Sol's daughter chose a bull; even that was male“With female. Yet, if candidly I speak,“My passion wilder far than hers appears.“She hop'd-for love pursu'd; by fraud enjoy'd;“Beneath an heifer's form, th' adulterous spark“Deceiving. Be from every part of earth“Assembled here the skill: let Dædalus“Hither, on waxen wings rebend his flight,“What could all aid? Could all their learned art“Change me from maid to youth? or alter thee“Iänthé? But why resolute, thy mind“Not fix? Why Iphis thus thyself forget,“These stupid wishes driving hence, and thoughts“So unavailing? Lo! what thou wast born,“(Save thou would'st also thine own breast deceive)“What is allow'd behold, and as a maid“May love, love only. Hope, first snatch'd by love,“Love feeds on still. From thee all hope is borne.“No guardians thee debar the dear embrace;“Nor watchful husband's care; no sire severe;“Nor she herself denies thy pressing prayers,“Yet art thou still forbid, though all agree;“To reap the bliss, though gods and men unite.“Behold, too, all my votive prayers succeed:“The favoring gods whate'er I pray'd have given.“My sire and hers, and even herself comply,“But nature far more strong denies, alone“Me irking with refusal. Lo! arrives“The wish'd-for hour; the matrimonial light“Approaches; when Iänthé will be mine;“And yet far from me. In the midst of waves“For thirst I perish. Nuptial Juno, why“Com'st thou, or Hymen to these rites; where none“Leads to the altar, but where both are led?”—
Here staid her speech; nor less the other nymphBurn'd; and O, Hymen, pray'd thy quick approach.But what she wishes Telethusa dreads,And searches for delays; feign'd sickness oftProlongs the time; oft omens dire, and dreams.Now all her artful fictions are consum'd;And now the long protracted period came,For nuptial rites; and, but one day remain'd.She from her own and daughter's head unbindsThe fillets; and with locks dishevell'd, claspsThe altar, crying;—“Isis, thou who dwell'st“In Parætonium; Mareotis' fields;“In Pharos; and the sev'nfold mouths of Nile.“Help me I pray! relieve my trembling dread.“Thee, goddess, once I saw; and with thee all“Those images beheld; them all I know:“Thy train, thy torches, and thy timbrels loud.“And with a mindful soul thy words I mark'd.“That she enjoys the light, that I myself,“Not sinful suffer, to thy counsels, we,“And admonitions owe. Pity us both;“Grant us thy helping aid.”—Tears follow'd words.Straight seem'd the goddess' altars all to shake;(And shake they did) trembled the temple's doors;The lunar horns blaz'd bright; the timbrels rung.
Forth goes the mother, of the omen glad,Yet not in faith secure. Iphis pursuesHis mother with a step more large than wont:The snow-like whiteness quits his face; his strengthIncreases; fiercer frowns his forehead wears:Shorten'd his uncomb'd locks: more vigor nowThan as a nymph he felt. For thou, a boyNow art—so late a female! Bear thy giftsStraight to the temple; and in faith rejoice.Straight to the temple they their offerings bore,And on them this short poem was inscrib'd.—“Iphis a boy, the offerings pays, which maid,“Iphis had vow'd.”—The following sun illum'dThe wide world with his rays; when Venus came,Juno, and Hymen, to the genial fires;And the boy Iphis his Iänthé clasp'd.
Marriage of Orpheus and Eurydicé. Her death. Descent of Orpheus to Hell, to recover her. Her second loss. His mournful music on mount Hæmus draws the trees, birds, and beasts around him. Change of Cyparissus to a cypress-tree. Song of Orpheus. Ganymede. Hyacinth changed to a flower. The Amanthians to oxen. The Propætides to flints. Pygmalion's statue to a woman. Myrrha's incestuous love, and transformation to a tree. Venus' love for Adonis. Story of Atalanta and Hippomenes. Adonis changed to an anemoné.
Marriage of Orpheus and Eurydicé. Her death. Descent of Orpheus to Hell, to recover her. Her second loss. His mournful music on mount Hæmus draws the trees, birds, and beasts around him. Change of Cyparissus to a cypress-tree. Song of Orpheus. Ganymede. Hyacinth changed to a flower. The Amanthians to oxen. The Propætides to flints. Pygmalion's statue to a woman. Myrrha's incestuous love, and transformation to a tree. Venus' love for Adonis. Story of Atalanta and Hippomenes. Adonis changed to an anemoné.
Thence Hymen, in his saffron vesture clad,Through the vast air departs; and seeks the landCiconian; by the voice of Orpheus call'dVainly. He came indeed, but with him broughtNo wonted gratulations, no glad face,Nor happy omen. And the torch he boreCrackled in hissing smoke; nor gather'd flameFrom whirling motion. Still more dire th' eventProv'd, than the presage. As the new-made bride,Attended by a train of Naïad nymphs,Rov'd through the grass, a serpent's fangs her heelPierc'd, and she instant dy'd. Her, when long-mourn'dIn upper air, the Rhodopeïan bardVentur'd to seek in shades, and dar'd descendThrough the Tænarian cave to Stygia's realms.'Mid shadowy crowds, and bury'd ghosts he goes,To Proserpine, and him who rules the shadesWith sway ungrateful. There he strikes the stringsResponsive to his words, and this his song.—“Gods of this subterraneous world, where all“Of mortal origin must come, permit“That I the truth declare; no tedious tales“Of falshood will I tell. Here came I not“Your dusky Hell to view: nor to o'ercome“The triple-throated Medusæan beast“Snake-hair'd;—my wife alone my journey caus'd,“Whose heel a trampled serpent venom'd stung:“Snatch'd in her bloom of years. Much did I wish,“My loss to bear; nor ought forbore to strive;“But love o'ercame. Well do the upper gods“That deity confess. In doubt I stand“If here too he is known; but here I judge“His power is felt: the ancient rape, if true,“Proves love ev'n you first join'd. You I implore,“By all those regions fill'd with dread; by this“Chaos immense; your ample realm, all fill'd“With silence; once again the thread renew“Eurydicé too hasty lost. To you“We all belong; a little while we stay,“Then soon or late to one repose we haste:“All hither tend; this is our final home.“You hold o'er human kind a lengthen'd reign.“She too, when once her years mature are fill'd,“To you again, must by just right belong.“I then request her only as a loan:“But should the fates this favor me refuse,“Certain I'll ne'er return. Two deaths enjoy.”—The bloodless shadows wept as thus he sung,And struck the strings in concord with his words.Nor Tantalus at flying waters caught;Nor roll'd Ixion's wheel: the liver gnaw'dThe birds not: rested on their empty urnsThe Belides: and Sisyphus, thou sat'stUpon thy stone. Nay fame declares, then first,Vanquish'd by song, the furies felt their cheeksWetted with tears. Nor could the royal spouse,Nor he who rules deep darkness, him withstandThus praying; and Eurydicé is call'd.Amid the recent dead she walk'd, and stillHalted with tardy steps from her late wound.Her, when the bard of Thrace receiv'd, this lawReceiv'd he also: that his eyes reverseHe should not bend, till past Avernus' realms;Else he'd the granted favor useless find.In silence mute, through the steep path they climbDark, difficult, and thick with pitchy mist;Nor far earth's surface wanted they to gain:The lover here, in dread lest she should stray,And anxious to behold, bent back his sight,And instant back she sunk. As forth his armsHe stretch'd, to clasp expecting, and be clasp'd:Unhappy! nought but fleeting air he held.Twice dying, she can nought her spouse condemn;For how blame him because too much he lov'd?She gives her last farewel; which scarce his earsReceive, then sinks again to shades below.
Orpheus, thus doubly of his spouse despoil'd,All stunn'd appear'd: not less than he who sawIn wild affright the triple-headed dog,Chain'd by the midmost: fear him never fled,Till fled his former nature: sudden stoneOn all his body seizing. Or than he,Olenus, when the crime upon himselfHe took, and guilty wish'd to seem; with theeHapless Lethæa, confident in charms.Once breast to breast you join'd, now join as stones,Which watery Ida bears. Beseeching vain,And wishing once again the stream to pass,The ferryman denies. Then on the bankIn squalid guise he sate, nor tasted foodFor seven long days; his cares, and grieving soul,And tears were all the sustenance he knew.Cruel he call'd the gods of Erebus,And to high Rhodopé himself betook,And lofty Hæmus by the north-wind beat.
Thrice had the sun the year completed, eachBy watery Pisces ended. Orpheus stillFled every female's love: or his deep woeMade him so cold; or faithful promise giv'n.Yet crowds there were, who wish'd the bard's embrace:And crowds with sorrow saw their love repuls'd.A hill there rose, and on its summit spreadA wide extended plain, with herbage green:Shade to the place was wanting; hither cameThe heaven-born poet; seated him, and touch'dHis sounding strings, and straight a shade approach'd.Nor wanted there Chaönian trees; nor grovesOf poplars; nor the acorn's spacious leaves:The linden soft, the beech, the virgin bay,The brittle hazle, and spear-forming ash;The knotless fir; ilex with fruit low-bow'd;The genial plane; the maple various stain'd;Stream-loving willow; and the watery lote;Box of perpetual green; slight tamarisk;Two-teinted myrtle; and the laurustineWith purple berries. Thou too, ivy, cam'stHither with flexile feet: together flock'dGrape-bearing vines; and elms with vines entwin'd:Wild ash, and pitch tree; and arbutus, bentWith loads of ruddy fruit; the pliant palm,Meed of the conqueror; the pine close boundAbout its boughs, but at its summit shagg'd:Dear to the mother of celestial powers,Since Atys Cybeleïan was transform'd,And in the trunk a rigid tree became.
In form pyramidal, amid the crowd,The cypress came; now tree, but once a boy;Dear to the god who rules the lyre's fine chords,And rules the bowstring. Once was known a stagSacred to nymphs that own Carthæa's fields,Who bore upon his head a lofty shadeFrom his wide-spreading horns; his horns bright shoneWith gold; his collar, with bright gems bedeck'd,Fell o'er his shoulders from his round neck hung;A silver boss, by slender reins control'dMov'd o'er his brow; a brazen pair the same,Shone o'er his temples hanging from his ears:Devoid of fear, his nature's timid dreadRelinquish'd, oft the houses would he seek;And oft would gently fondling stoop his neck,Heedless who strok'd him. Cyparissus, thouBeyond all others priz'd the sacred beast:Thou, fairest far amongst the Cæan youths.Thou to fresh pastures led'st the stag; to streamsOf cooling fountains: oft his horns entwin'dWith variegated garlands. Horseman-likeNow on his back thou pressest; and now here,Now there, thou rul'st his soft jaws with the reinsOf purple tinge. 'Twas once in mid-day heat,When burnt the bent claws of the sea-shore crab,In Sol's fierce vapor; on the grassy earthThe weary stag repos'd his limbs, and drewCool breezes from the trees umbrageous shades.Here the boy Cyparissus careless flungHis painted dart, and fix'd it in his side.Who, when he from the cruel wound beheldHim dying, instant bent his mind to die.What consolation did not Phœbus speak?Urging the loss far slighter grief deserv'd:Yet mourn'd he still, and from the gods supremeBegg'd this last gift, to latest times to mourn.His blood in constant tears exhausted, nowHis limbs a green hue take; his locks which lateHung o'er his snowy forehead, rough becomeIn frightful bushiness; and hardening quick,Shoot up to heaven in form a slender spire.The mourning god, in grief exclaim'd—“By me“Bemoan'd, thou shalt with others always grieve;“And henceforth mourners shalt thou still attend.”—Thus did the bard a wood collect around;And in the midst he sate of thronging beasts,And crowding birds. The chords he amply try'dWith his impulsive thumb, and vary'd muchIn sound, he found their notes concordant still;Then to this song rais'd his melodious voice.—
“O parent muse! from Jove derive my song:“All yield to Jove's dominion. Oft my verse“Before the mightiness of Jove has sung.“I sung the giants, in a strain sublime,“And vengeful thunders, o'er Phlegræa's plain“Scatter'd; a tender theme now claims my lyre:“I sing of youths by deities belov'd;“And nymphs who with forbidden wishes burn'd,“And met the doom their sensual lusts deserv'd.“The king of gods made Phrygian Ganymede“His favorite, but some other form possess'd.“Jove must in shape be something else than Jove.“He deems no form becomes him, save the bird“That bears his thunder. Instant all is done;“The Phrygian borne away: the air he beats“With his feign'd wing. And now this youth the cup“Of nectar hands, in Juno's spite, to Jove.
“Son of Amycla, thee had Phœbus plac'd“Also the skies amidst, had fate allow'd“For such position place; yet still thou hold'st“Eternal, what fate grants: oft as the spring“Winter repulses, and the ram succeeds“The watery fishes, thou spring'st forth in flower“'Mid the green sward. Beyond all else my sire“Thee lov'd, and Delphos, plac'd in midmost earth,“Wanted its ruling power, whilst now the god“Eurotas lov'd, and Sparta un-intrench'd.“Nor lyre, nor darts attention claim'd as wont;“Of dignity unmindful, he not spurns“To bear the nets; to curb the hounds; to climb“With the full train the steepest mountain's ridge:“And every toil augments his pleasure more.“Now had the sun the midmost point near gain'd“'Twixt flying night, and night approaching, each“Distant in equal space; when from their limbs“They flung their robes; with the fat olive's juice“Their bodies shone; they enter'd in the lists“Of the broad disk, which Phœbus first well pois'd,“Then flung through lofty air; opposing clouds“Flying it cleft; at length on solid earth“It pitch'd, displaying skill with strength combin'd.“Instant the rash Tænarian boy, impell'd“By love of sport, sprung on to snatch the orb,“But the hard ground repulsive in thy face,“O, Hyacinth! it flung. Pale as the boy“The god appear'd: he rais'd his fainting limbs,“And in his arms now cherishes, now wipes“The fatal wound, now stays his fleeting breath,“With herbs apply'd; but all his arts are vain;“Incurable the hurt. Just so, when broke,“The violet, poppy, or the lily hang,“Whose dark stems in a water'd garden spring;“Flaccid they instant droop; the weighty head“No longer upright rais'd, but bent to earth.“So bent his dying face; his neck, bereft“Of vigor, heavy on his shoulder laid.“Phœbus exclaim'd;—Fall'st thou, Œbalian youth,“Depriv'd of life in prime? and must I see“Thy death my fault? thou art my grief, my crime;“My hand the charge of thy destruction bears:“I am the cause of thy untimely fate!“But what my crime? unless with him to sport;“Unless a fault it were too much to love.“Would I could life for thee, or with thee quit;“But fatal laws restrain me: yet shalt thou“Be with me still; dwell ever on my lips;“My hand shall sound thee on the lyre I touch;“My songs of thee shall tell: a new-found flower“Shall bear the letters which my griefs resound:“And time shall come, when a most valiant chief“Shall join him to thy flower; in the same leaf“His name too shall be read.—As words like these“The truth-predicting lips of Phœbus spoke,“Behold! the blood which flow'd along the ground,“And all the herbage ting'd, is blood no more;“But springs a flower than Tyrian red more bright,“A form assuming such as lilies wear:“Like it, save purple this, that silvery white.“Nor yet content was Phœbus; for from him“The honor was deriv'd. Upon its leaves“He trac'd his groans:ai, ai, on every flower“In mournful characters is fair inscrib'd.“Nor blush the Spartans, Hyacinth to own:“His honors still the present age attend;“And annual are the Hyacinthian feasts,“In pomp surpassing aught of ancient days.
“Should you by chance of Amathus enquire,“If williang the Propœtides it bore,“Denying nods would equally disclaim“Them, and the race whose foreheads once were rough“With double horns; Cerastæ, hence their name.“Jove's hospitable altar at their gates“Of mournful wickedness was rear'd: who saw“This stain'd with gore, if stranger, might conceive“That sucking calves, or two-year's sheep there bled.“There bled the guest! Mild Venus griev'd“At these most impious rites, at first prepar'd“To quit her cities, and her Cyprian fields:—“But how,—she said,—can my beloved clime?“How can my towns have given offence? what fault“Abides in them? Rather the impious race,“Shall vengeance feel in exile, or in death;“Save death and exile medium may allow:“How may that be, unless their shape is chang'd?—“Then while she doubts what shape they shall assume,“Their horns attract her eyes; struck by the hint,“Their mighty horns she leaves them, and transforms“To savage oxen all their lusty limbs.
“Still dar'd th' obscene Propœtides deny“Venus a goddess' power; for which, fame says“They first, so forc'd the deity's revenge,“Their bodies prostituted, and their charms.“As shame them left, the blood which ting'd their cheeks“Harden'd, and soon they rigid stone became.
“These saw Pygmalion, and the age beheld“With crimes o'er-run; the shameful vice abhorr'd“Which lavish nature gave their female souls.“Single, and spouseless liv'd he; long a mate“Press'd not his couch. Meantime the ivory white“With happy skill, and wond'rous art he carv'd;“And form'd a beauteous figure; never maid“So perfect yet was born, and his own work“With love inspir'd him. Of a nymph her face“Was such, you must believe the form to live,“And move, if not by bashfulness restrain'd.“Thus art his art conceal'd. Pygmalion stares“In admiration; and his breast draws flames“From the feign'd body: oft his hands his work“Approach, if ivory or if flesh to judge;“Nor ivory then will he confess the form.“Kisses he gives, and thinks each kiss return'd:“He speaks, he grasps her; where he grasps, he thinks“His hands impression leave; and fears to see“On the prest limbs some marks of livid blue.“Now blandish'd words he uses; now he bears“Those gifts so grateful to a girlish mind;“Pearls, and smooth-polish'd gems, and smallest birds,“With variegated flowers, and lilies fair,“And painted figures, and the Heliads' tears,“Dropt from the weeping tree: with garments gay“Her limbs too he adorns, and jewels gives“To deck her fingers; while a necklace large“Hangs round her neck: her ears light pearls suspend;“And a bright zone is circled round her waist.“All well became her, yet most beauteous far“She unattir'd appear'd. Her on a couch,“Ting'd with the shell Sidonian, then he laid,“And call'd her partner of his bed; and plac'd“Her head reclin'd, as if with sense endu'd,“On the soft pillow. Now the feast approach'd“Of Venus, through all Cyprus' isle so fam'd,“And snowy-chested heifers, whose bent horns“With gold were gay, receiv'd the deadly blow;“And incense burnt in clouds. Pygmalion stood“Before the altar, with his offer'd gifts:“Timid he spoke,—O ye all-potent gods!“Give me a spouse just like my ivory nymph,—“Give me my ivory nymph—he blush'd to say.“Bright Venus then, as present at her feast,“Perceiv'd the inmost wishes of his soul;“And gave the omen of a friendly power.“Thrice blaz'd the fire, and thrice the flame leap'd high.
“Returning, he the darling statue seeks“Of his fair nymph; extends him on the couch;“Kisses, and thinks he feels her lips grow warm:“Applies his lips again, and with his hand“Presses her bosom: prest the ivory yields,“Softening beneath his fingers; nor remains“Its rigid harshness. So Hymettus' wax“Yields to the heat, when tempering thumbs it mould“In various forms; and fit for future use.“Astonish'd now he joys with trembling soul,“But fears deception; then he loves again,“And with his hands again his wishes proves:“'Twas flesh, the prest pulse leap'd beneath his thumb.“Then did the Cyprian youth, in words most full“Of gratitude and love, to Venus pray.“Then to her living lips his lips he join'd,“And then the damsel felt his warm salute:“Blushing she felt it, and her timid eyes“Op'd to the light, and with the light beheld“Her lover. Venus bless'd the match she made;“And when nine times the moon's full orb was seen“Sharpen'd to horns, the damsel Paphos bore;“Whose appellation oft the isle receives.
“She Cinyras too bore; if childless he“A place amongst the happiest might he claim.“A direful song I sing! be distant far“Ye daughters; distant far, O, parents be!“Or if of pleasure to your minds my verse“Aught gives, in this at least my truth suspect.“Believe the deed not: if you must believe,“Mark well the punishment the crime deserv'd.“Since nature could such heinous deeds permit;“The Thracian realms, my land, I 'gratulate;“And joy this clime at such a distance lies,“From that which could such monstrous acts produce.“Let Araby be in amomum rich;“And cinnamon, and zedoary produce;“Incense which through the wood exudes; and flowers“Of vary'd teints,—while Myrrha too it bears:“Too great the price which this new tree procur'd.“Cupid denies, O Myrrha! that his darts“Thee wounded; vindicating from that crime“His weapons. Thee, with Stygian torch most fierce,“And viperous venom furies did enflame.“Wicked to hate thy parent sure had been,“But thus to love is worse than bitterest hate.“The choicest nobles come from every part“To gain thee; youths from all the East arrive,“To struggle for thy hand. Chuse, Myrrha, chuse“One from the crowd: one only in the world“Whom chuse thou may'st not. She herself perceiv'd,“And curb'd the baneful passion in her mind;“Communing thus:—Ah! whither rove my thoughts?“What meditate I? O, ye gods! I pray,“O piety, O parents' sacred laws,“Forbid this wicked act; oppose a deed“So full of horrid guilt,—if guilt it be!“But pious nature ne'er such love condemns.“All animals in undistinguish'd form“Cohabit: shame the heifer never feels“Join'd with her sire; the steed his daughter takes“As partner; with the female flock, who ow'd“To him their being, couples oft the goat;“And birds bring forth to birds who them produc'd.“Blest those who thus enjoy; but human race“Perversest laws invents: vexatious rules“Forbid what nature grants. Yet am I told,“Nations exist, where mother joins with son,“And daughter with her sire; their pious love“Increas'd more strongly by the double bond.“Ah, me! unhappy, in such glorious climes“Begotten not; I suffer but from place.“But why on these ideas dwell? hence far“Forbidden hopes. Well he deserves thy love,“But as a father love him. Wert thou not“Of mighty Cinyras the daughter, then“Thou might'st the couch of Cinyras ascend.“Now mine he is so much, he is not mine;“Our very nearness is my greatest curse:“More close, a perfect stranger had I been.“Far hence I would depart; my country leave,“This mischief flying; but curs'd love restrains.“For, present, Cinyras I may behold;“Touch, speak, my kisses to his face apply,“If nought he'll grant beyond. How! impious maid,“Dar'st thou hope ought beyond? perceiv'st thou not“What laws, what names thou would'st confound? would'st thou“The mother's rival be?—thy father's whore?“Thy offspring's sister would'st thou then be call'd?“Thy brother's parent? Fear'st thou not the three,“Whose locks with sable serpents horrid curl?“Who conscious bosoms pierce with searching eyes,“And hurl their furious torches in the face?“While yet thy body can resist, no more“Cherish the heinous guilt thus in thy mind;“Nor violate great Nature's sacred law“With lust forbidden. Grant I should consent,“The king would me deny: too pious he,“Too dear to him the law. O, that in him“Such furious passion rag'd as burns in me!—
“She ended; Cinyras, the worthy crowd“Of suitors held in doubt; herself he ask'd,“As name by name he counted, which as spouse“She most would wish. Silent at first she stood,“Then burning gaz'd on his paternal face,“As the warm tears gush'd in her shining eyes.“These, Cinyras effects of virgin fear“Believing, chid her and forbade to weep.“Drying her cheeks, he on them press'd a kiss;“With too much pleasure she the kiss receiv'd:“And when consulted what the spouse must be“She would prefer, she answer'd,—one like you.—“He witless of her meaning, prais'd her words,“And said,—be such thy pious duty still—“The sound of piety the virgin's eyes,“With sense of guilt, cast conscious to the ground.
“'Twas now deep night when sleep sooth'd all the cares“Of mortal breasts. But Myrrha wakeful laid“Consum'd with raging fires; and rolling deep“Her frantic wishes in her wandering mind.“Despairing now, and now resolv'd to try;“Now shame o'ercomes her, and anon desire:“And undetermin'd how to act she rests.“A mighty tree thus, wounded by the axe,“Ere yet it feels the final blow, in doubt“Seems where to fall; they fear on every side:“Thus did her stagger'd mind from vary'd force“Waver now here, now there; press'd hard by each,“No ease for love, no rest but death appears.“Death pleas'd. She rose, and round her throat prepar'd“The cord to fasten; from the topmost beam“She ty'd her girdle, and—farewel!—exclaim'd—“Dear Cinyras! guess whence my fatal end.—“Then drew the noose around her pallid neck.“'Tis said, th' imperfect murmuring of her words,“Reach'd to the faithful nurse's ears, who laid“Before the threshold of her foster-child.“The matron rose, threw wide the door, and saw“Prepar'd the instrument of death. At once“She scream'd aloud, her bosom tore, deep blows“Gave her own limbs, and from the rescu'd neck“Tore the tight noose. Then had she time to weep,“Then to embrace, then to inquire the cause“Of the dread cord. But dumb the virgin sate“And motionless, her eyes to earth were fix'd;“Griev'd that so check'd her efforts were for death.“More the nurse presses, bares her silver'd hairs“And wither'd bosom; by the cradle begs,“And the first food she tasted, to confess“To her the cause of sorrow. Myrrha sighs,“But turns her eyes aside as thus she begs.“Determin'd still to know, the nurse persists“And not content her secrecy alone“To promise, says—yet tell me, and my aid“Allow me to afford thee. Not yet slow,“Though aged. Is it love? with charms and plants“I know thy love to cure. Have envious eyes“Thee harm'd? with magic rites their charm I'll spoil.“Are the gods angry? with appeasing rites“Their anger we will soothe. What ill beside“Can be conjectur'd? Lo! thy house secure,“And safe thy fortune; both in prosperous train.“Yet lives thy mother, and thy father lives.—“Her father's name when Myrrha heard she drew“Deep from her breast a mournful sigh; nor yet“The nurse suspected guilt was in her soul:“But saw that love disturb'd her. In her aim“Inflexible; again she urg'd to know“The grief whate'er it prov'd; and lull'd her head“Upon her aged lap, and clasp'd her form“In her own feeble arms, as thus she spoke;—“I see thou lovest; banish far thy fear,“My diligence in this shall aid thee; nay“Not e'en thy father shall the secret know.—“Madly she bounded from the lap, and cry'd,“While press'd the couch her face,—I beg thee go!“And spare my grievous shame.—More pressing still—“Or go—she said—or ask not why I mourn:“What thou so seek'st to know is shameful guilt.—“With horror struck, the ancient dame holds forth“Her hands, which equal shook with fear and age;“Then suppliant at her foster-daughter's feet“Fell. Now she coaxes; now she threatens loud;“If not made privy, threatens to declare“The cord's adventure, and half-finish'd death:“And offers aid once more her love to gain.“She rais'd her head, and fill'd her nurse's breast“With sudden gushing tears. And oft she strove“All to confess; as oft her tongue was mute;“And in her garments hid her blushing face.—“Then,—happy mother in thy spouse!—she said;“No more, but groan'd. Through her cold limbs and bones,“The ancient nurse a shivering tremor felt,“And her white hairs all o'er her head, erect“Like bristles stood; for all the truth she saw.“Much did she urge the direful flame to drive“Far from her soul, if that could be. The maid“Knows all is just she argues, yet is fix'd“For death, unless her lover is obtain'd.“Then she;—O live, enjoy thy—silent there,“Enjoy thy parent—she not dar'd to say:“Yet by a sacred oath her promise bound.
“Now Ceres' annual feast, the pious dames“All solemniz'd: in snowy robes enwrapt,“They offer'd wheaten wreaths, and primal fruits.“The rites of Venus, and the touch of man,“For thrice three nights forbidden things they held.“The monarch's spouse Cenchreïs, 'mid the crowd“Forth went to celebrate the secret feast:“And while the couch its legal partner lack'd,“The ill-officious nurse the king espy'd“Oppress'd with wine, and told the tale of love,“Beneath a fictious name, and prais'd her charms.“The virgin's years he asks.—Equal her age“To Myrrha's—she replies.—Desir'd to bring“The damsel, she returns:—Rejoice!—she cries,“Rejoice! our point is gain'd.—The hapless nymph“Felt not a general joy; presaging pangs“Shot through her bosom; still she joy'd: her mind“Such discord tore. Now was the silent hour;“Boötes 'mid the Triönes had bent“His wain with sloping pole; when Myrrha came“To her flagitious crime. Bright Luna fled“The skies; black clouds the lurking stars o'erspread;“The night saw not its fires. Thou, Icarus,“Thy face first hidst; and thou, Erigoné“Hallow'd for thy parental love so pure.“Thrice was she warn'd by stumbling feet, and thrice“The owl funereal utter'd her death-note.“Yet on she went; darkness and sable night“Her shame diminish'd. Fast her left hand grasps“Her nurse, the other waves t'explore the way.“The threshold of the nuptial chamber now“She touches; now she gently opes the door;“Now enters. Then her trembling knees loose shook“Beneath her bending hams; her color fled:“Her blood flow'd back; and all her wishes sunk.“The nearer was her crime approach'd, the more“With horror she beheld it, and sore mourn'd“Her daring; anxious to return unknown.“The hoary dame, her, lingering thus, dragg'd on,“And when presented at the lofty couch,“Said—Cinyras receive her, she's thine own!—“And the devoted bodies gave to join.“The sire his proper bowels, on the bed“Obscene, receiv'd; her virgin terrors calm'd,“And sooth'd her trembling. Haply too, he said—“My daughter,—from her age; and haply she—“My sire,—lest names were wanting to their crime.“Fill'd with her father from the bed she rose,“Bearing in her dire womb the impious fruit;“Carrying her crime conceiv'd. Th' ensuing night“Her incest she repeats, nor ends she here.“But Cinyras eager at length to know,“After such frequent converse, who him lov'd;“At once his daughter and his sin beheld,“By lamps brought sudden. Grief repress'd all words;“But from the sheath he snatch'd his glittering sword.“Quick Myrrha fled; darkness and favoring night“Sav'd her from death. O'er wide-spread fields she roam'd;“Through Araby palm-bearing, and the lands“Panchæa holds. Nine times returning light“Had fill'd the horns of Luna, still she stray'd:“Then weary rested in Sabæa's fields;“While scarce she bore the burden of her womb.“Then what to ask uncertain, 'twixt the fear“Of death and weariness of hated life;“In words like these she utter'd forth her prayers,—“Ye powers, if those who guilt confess are heard,“A punishment exemplar I deserve;“I shrink not from it. Yet the living race“Lest I contaminate, if left to live;“Or lest I mix prophane with shades below,“Drive me from either realm; from life and death“Debar me, into some new shape transform'd.—“The penitent some god propitious heard;“Her final prayer at least success obtain'd:“For as she spoke rose round her legs the earth;“The lofty tree's foundation, crooked roots“Shot from her spreading toes; hard wood her bones“Became; the marrow in the midst remain'd“As pith; as sappy juice still flow'd her blood:“Her arms large boughs were spread; her fingers chang'd“To slender twigs; rough bark her skin became.“The growing tree press'd hard the gravid womb;“Invested next her breast, and o'er her neck“Threaten'd to spread. Impatient of delay“She shrunk below to meet th' approaching wood,“And hid beneath the rising bark her face.“Human sensation with her change of shape“She lost, yet still she weeps; and from the tree“Warm drops yet fall, and much the tears are priz'd.“The myrrh which oozes from the bark still holds“Its mistress' name, well known in every age.
“Meantime the misbegotten infant grew“Within the trunk, and press'd to find a way“To push to light, and leave the parent womb.“Within the tree the gravid womb swell'd large,“Stretch'd was the mother with the load, but mute“Were all her woes; nor in travailing voice“Lucina could she call. Yet hard to strain“She seem'd; thick groans oft gave the bending bole,“And tears flow'd copious. Mild Lucina came,“And stood before the groaning boughs, and gave“Assisting help, and spoke the spellful words.“Cleft is the tree, and through the fissur'd bark“A living burthen comes: the infant cries,“Who on soft grass plac'd. The Naïad nymphs“Him bathe in tears maternal: such a face“Ev'n Envy could not blame. As painters form“The naked Cupid's beauty, such had he;“And that their dress no help to guess may give,“This the light quiver take, or that resign.“Quick passing time unheeded glides along“Deceiving: nought than years more quickly flies.“The child, of sister and of grandsire born,“Late in the tree confin'd, late thence reliev'd;“Just seen most beauteous of the infant tribe,“Now youth, now man appears, more beauteous still:“Now Venus charm'd, his mother's pangs aveng'd.
“As kisses sweet the quiver-bearing boy“Press'd on his mother's lips, he witless raz'd“Slightly her bosom, with a dart that stood“Protruding. Venus, wounded, angry push'd“Her son far from her; light the wound appear'd;“At first even her deceiving. With the blaze“Of manly beauty caught, she now contemns“The Cythereïan shores; nor Paphos seeks,“Girt by profoundest seas; Cnidos, so fam'd“For fish; nor Amathus with metals rich.“Heaven too, she quits, to heaven she now prefers“Adonis: him she follows, him attends;“Whose sole employ was loitering in the shade,“In anxious study to increase her charms.“Bare to the knee, her robe, like Dian's train“High-girt, o'er hills, through woods, and brambly rocks“She roves: exhorts the dogs, and drives such game“As threaten not with danger; fearful hares,“High-antler'd stags, and rapid-flying deer.“Fierce boars she shuns, and shuns the robber-wolf,“Strong-talon'd bears, and lions slaughter-gorg'd.
“Thou too, Adonis, admonition heardst“These to avoid, if admonition ought“With thee could weigh:—Be brave,—the goddess said—“To those who fly thee; courage 'gainst the bold“To danger drags. Dear youth, thy heart is brave;“Indulge not to my hazard, nor provoke“Fierce beasts by nature arm'd, nor seek for fame.“Nor youth nor beauty, such as Venus move,“Will move the lion, or the bristly boar:“Their eyes and breasts untouch'd by brightest charms.“Thunder and lightning in his bended tusks“The fierce boar carries; rapid is the force“The tawny lion, (hated race!) exerts:“My cause of hatred when to thee disclos'd,“Will raise thy wonder at the monstrous crime,“In days of yore committed. Now hard toil“Unwonted tires me. Lo! the poplar's shade“So opportune invites; and the green turf“A couch presents. Upon the ground with thee“I'll rest:—she spoke, and as she stretch'd along,“She press'd the grass, and press'd the lovely youth:“Smiling, her head upon his breast reclin'd,“'Midst intermingling kisses, thus she spoke.—