The MetamorphosesBook IX

1

Theseus, the Neptunian hero, inquires what is the cause of his sighing, and of his forehead being mutilated; when thus begins the Calydonian river, having his unadorned hair crowned with reeds:

“A mournful task thou art exacting; for who, when overcome, is desirous to relate his own battles? yet I will relate them in order; nor was it so disgraceful to be overcome, as it is glorious to have engaged; and a conqueror so mighty affords me a great consolation. If, perchance, Deïanira, by her name, has at last reached thy ears, once she was a most beautiful maiden, and the envied hope of many a wooer; together with these, when the house of him, whom I desired as my father-in-law, was entered by me, I said, ‘Receive me, O son of Parthaon, for thy son-in-law.’ Alcides, too, said {the same}; the others yielded to {us} two. He alleged that he was offering {to the damsel} both Jupiter as a father-in-law, and the glory of his labours; the orders, too, of his step-mother, successfully executed. On the other hand (I thought it disgraceful for a God to give way to a mortal, for then he was not a God), I said, ‘Thou beholdest me, a king of the waters, flowing amid thy realms, with my winding course; nor {am I some} stranger sent thee for a son-in-law, from foreign lands, but I shall be one of thy people, and a part of thy state. Only let it not be to my prejudice, that the royal Juno does not hate me, and that all punishment, by labours enjoined, is afar from me. For, since thou, {Hercules}, dost boast thyself born of Alcmena for thy mother; Jupiter is either thy pretended sire, or thy real one through a criminal deed: by the adultery of thy mother art thou claiming a father. Choose, {then}, whether thou wouldst rather have Jupiter {for thy} pretended {father}, or that thou art sprung {from him} through a disgraceful deed?’

“While I was saying such things as these, for some time he looked at me with a scowling eye, and did not very successfully check his inflamed wrath; and he returned me just as many words {as these}: ‘My right hand is better than my tongue. If only I do but prevail in fighting, do thou get the better in talking;’ and {then} he fiercely {attacked} me. I was ashamed, after having so lately spoken big words, to yield. I threw on one side my green garment from off my body, and opposed my arms {to his}, and I held my hands bent inwards, from before my breast, on their guard, and I prepared my limbs for the combat. He sprinkled me with dust, taken up in the hollow of his hands, and, in his turn, grew yellow with the casting of yellow sand {upon himself}. And at one moment he aimed at my neck, at another my legs, as they shifted about, or you would suppose he was aiming {at them}; and he assaulted me on every side. My bulk defended me, and I was attacked in vain; no otherwise than a mole, which the waves beat against with loud noise: it remains {unshaken}, and by its own weight is secure.

“We retire a little, and {then} again we rush together in conflict, and we stand firm, determined not to yield; foot, too, is joined to foot; and {then} I, bending forward full with my breast, press upon his fingers with my fingers, and his forehead with my forehead. In no different manner have I beheld the strong bulls engage, when the most beauteous mate in all the pasture is sought as the reward of the combat; the herds look on and tremble, uncertain which the mastery of so great a domain awaits. Thrice without effect did Alcides attempt to hurl away from him my breast, as it bore hard against him; the fourth time, he shook off my hold, and loosened my arms clasped around him; and, striking me with his hand, (I am resolved to confess the truth) he turned me quite round, and clung, a mighty load, to my back. If any credit {is to be given me}, (and, indeed, no glory is sought by me through an untrue narration) I seemed to myself {as though} weighed down with a mountain placed upon me. Yet, with great difficulty, I disengaged my arms streaming with much perspiration, {and}, with great exertion, I unlocked his firm grasp from my body. He pressed on me as I panted for breath, and prevented me from recovering my strength, and {then} seized hold of my neck. Then, at last, was the earth pressed by my knee, and with my mouth I bit the sand. Inferior in strength, I had recourse to my arts, and transformed into a long serpent, I escaped from the hero.

“After I had twisted my body into winding folds, and darted my forked tongue with dreadful hissings, the Tirynthian laughed, and deriding my arts, he said, ‘It was the labour of my cradle to conquer serpents; and although, Acheloüs, thou shouldst excel other snakes, how large a part wilt thou, {but} one serpent, be of the Lernæan Echidna? By her {very} wounds was she multiplied, and not one head of her hundred in number was cut off {by me} without danger {to myself}; but rather so that her neck became stronger, with two successors {to the former head}. {Yet} her I subdued, branching with serpents springing from {each} wound, and growing stronger by her disasters; and, {so} subdued, I slew her. What canst thou think will become of thee, who, changed into a fictitious serpent, art wielding arms that belong to another, and whom a form, obtained as a favour, is {now} disguising?’ {Thus} he spoke; and he planted the grip of his fingers on the upper part of my neck. I was tortured, just as though my throat was squeezed with pincers; and I struggled hard to disengage my jaws from his fingers.

“Thus vanquished, too, there still remained for me my third form, {that} of a furious bull; with my limbs changed into {those of} a bull I renewed the fight. He threw his arms over my brawny neck, on the left side, and, dragging {at me}, followed me in my onward course; and seizing my horns, he fastened them in the hard ground, and felled me upon the deep sand. And that was not enough; while his relentless right hand was holding my stubborn horn, he broke it, and tore it away from my mutilated forehead. This, heaped with fruit and odoriferous flowers, the Naiads have consecrated, and the bounteous {Goddess}, Plenty, is enriched by my horn.” {Thus} he said; but a Nymph, girt up after the manner of Diana, one of his handmaids, with her hair hanging loose on either side, came in, and brought the whole {of the produce} of Autumn in the most plentiful horn, and choice fruit for a second course.

Day comes on, and the rising sun striking the tops of the hills, the young men depart; nor do they stay till the stream has quiet {restored to it}, and a smooth course, and {till} the troubled waters subside. Acheloüs conceals his rustic features, and his mutilated horn, in the midst of the waves; yet the loss of this honour, taken from him, {alone} affects him; in other respects, he is unhurt. The injury, too, which has befallen his head, is {now} concealed with willow branches, or with reeds placed upon it.

Henry T. Riley, 1851 — 10 notes

1. _The Neptunian hero._--Ver. 1. Theseus was the grandson of Neptune, through his father Ægeus.
2. _Deïanira._--Ver. 9. She was the daughter of Œneus, king of Ætolia, and became the wife of Hercules.
3. _Parthaon._--Ver. 12. He was the son of Agenor and Epicaste. Homer, however, makes Portheus, and not Parthaon, to have been the father of Œneus.
4. _Amid thy realms._--Ver. 18. The river Acheloüs flowed between Ætolia and Acarnania.
5. _Bent inwards._--Ver. 33. ‘Varus,’ which we here translate ‘bent inwards,’ according to some authorities, means ‘bent outwards.’
6. _Casting of yellow sand._--Ver. 35. It was the custom of wrestlers, after they had anointed the body with ‘ceroma’ or wrestler’s oil, in order to render the body supple and pliant, to sprinkle the body with sand, or dust, to enable the antagonist to take a firm hold. It was, however, considered more praiseworthy to conquer in a contest which was ἀκονιτὶ ‘without the use of sand.’
7. _Most beauteous mate._--Ver. 47. Clarke translates ‘nitidissima conjux,’ ‘the neatest cow.’
8. _Recourse to my arts._--Ver. 62. ‘Devertor ad artes,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘I fly to my tricks.’
9. _To conquer serpents._--Ver. 67. Hercules, while an infant in his cradle, was said to have strangled two serpents, which Juno sent for the purpose of destroying him.
10. _Hundred in number._--Ver. 71. The number of heads of the Hydra varies in the accounts given by different writers. Seven, nine, fifty, and a hundred are the numbers mentioned. This, however, is not surprising, as we are told that where one was cut off, two sprang up in their place, until Hercules, to prevent such consequences, adopted the precaution of searing the neck, where the head had been cut off, with a red hot iron.

2

But a passion for this same maiden proved fatal to thee, fierce Nessus, pierced through the back with a swift arrow. For the son of Jupiter, as he was returning to his native city with his new-made wife, had {now} come to the rapid waters of {the river} Evenus. The stream was swollen to a greater extent than usual with the winter rains, and was full of whirlpools, and impassable. Nessus came up to him, regardless of himself, {but} feeling anxiety for his wife, both strong of limb, and well acquainted with the fords, and said, “Alcides, she shall be landed on yonder bank through my services, do thou employ thy strength in swimming;” and the Aonian {hero} entrusted to Nessus the Calydonian damsel full of alarm, and pale with apprehension, and {equally} dreading both the river and {Nessus} himself. Immediately, just as he was, loaded both with his quiver and the spoil of the lion, (for he had thrown his club and his crooked bow to the opposite side), he said, “Since I have undertaken it, the stream must be passed.”

And he does not hesitate; nor does he seek out where the stream is the smoothest, and he spurns to be borne over by the compliance of the river. And now having reached the bank, and as he is taking up the bow which he had thrown over, he recognizes the voice of his wife; and as Nessus is preparing to rob him of what he has entrusted to his care, he cries out, “Whither, thou ravisher, does thy vain confidence in thy feet hurry thee? to thee am I speaking, Nessus, thou two-shaped {monster}. Listen; and do not carry off my property. If no regard for myself influences thee, still the wheel of thy father might have restrained thee from forbidden embraces. Thou shall not escape, however, although thou dost confide in thy powers of a horse; with a wound, {and} not with my feet, will I overtake thee.” {These} last words he confirms by deeds, and pierces him through the back, as he is flying, with an arrow discharged {at him}. The barbed steel stands out from his breast; soon as it is wrenched out, the blood gushes forth from both wounds, mingled with the venom of the Lernæan poison. Nessus takes it out, and says to himself, “And yet I shall not die unrevenged;” and gives his garment, dyed in the warm blood, as a present to her whom he is carrying off, as though an incentive to love.

Long was the space of intervening time, and the feats of the mighty Hercules and the hatred of his step-mother had filled the earth. {Returning} victorious from Œchalia, he is preparing a sacrifice which he had vowed to Cenæan Jupiter, when tattling Rumour (who takes pleasure in adding false things to the truth, and from a very little {beginning}, swells to a great bulk by her lies) runs before to thy ears, Deïanira, {to the effect} that the son of Amphitryon is seized with a passion for Iole. As she loves him, she believes it; and being alarmed with the report of this new amour, at first she indulges in tears and in her misery gives vent to her grief in weeping. Soon, however, she says, “But why do I weep? My rival will be delighted with these tears; and since she is coming I must make haste, and some contrivance must be resolved on while it is {still} possible, and while, as yet, another has not taken possession of my bed. Shall I complain, or shall I be silent? Shall I return to Calydon, or shall I stay here? Shall I depart from this abode? or, if nothing more, shall I oppose {their entrance}? What if, O Meleager, remembering that I am thy sister, I resolve on a desperate deed, and testify, by murdering my rival, how much, injury and a woman’s grief can effect?”

Her mind wavers, amid various resolves. Before them all, she prefers to send the garment dyed in the blood of Nessus, to restore strength to his declining love. Not knowing herself what she is giving, she delivers {the cause of} her own sorrows to the unsuspecting Lichas, and bids him, in gentle words, to deliver this most fatal gift to her husband. In his ignorance, the hero receives it, and places upon his shoulders the venom of the Lernæan Echidna. He is placing frankincense on the rising flames, and {is offering} the words of prayer, and pouring wine from the bowl upon the marble altars. The virulence of the bane waxes warm, and, melted by the flames, it runs, widely diffused over the limbs of Hercules. So long as he is able, he suppresses his groans with his wonted fortitude. After his endurance is overcome by his anguish, he pushes down the altars, and fills the woody Œta with his cries. There is no {further} delay; he attempts to tear off the deadly garment; {but} where it is torn off, it tears away the skin, and, shocking to relate, it either sticks to his limbs, being tried in vain to be pulled off, or it lays bare his mangled limbs, and his huge bones. The blood itself hisses, just as when a red hot plate {of metal is} dipped in cold water; and it boils with the burning poison. There is no limit {to his misery}; the devouring flames prey upon his entrails, and a livid perspiration flows from his whole body; his half-burnt sinews also crack; and his marrow being {now} dissolved by the subtle poison, lifting his hands towards the stars {of heaven}, he exclaims, “Daughter of Saturn, satiate thyself with my anguish; satiate thyself, and look down from on high, O cruel {Goddess}, at this {my} destruction, and glut thy relentless heart. Or, if I am to be pitied even by an enemy (for an enemy I am to thee), take away a life insupportable through these dreadful agonies, hateful, too, {to myself}, and {only} destined to trouble. Death will be a gain to me. It becomes a stepmother to grant such a favour.

“And was it for this that I subdued Busiris, who polluted the temples {of the Gods} with the blood of strangers? And did I {for this}, withdraw from the savage Antæus the support given him by his mother? Did neither the triple shape of the Iberian shepherd, nor thy triple form, O Cerberus, alarm me? And did you, my hands, seize the horns of the mighty bull? Does Elis, {too}, possess {the result} of your labours, and the Stymphalian waters, and the Parthenian grove {as well}? By your valour was it that the belt, inlaid with the gold of Thermodon, was gained, the apples too, guarded in vain by the wakeful dragon? And could neither the Centaurs resist me, nor yet the boar, the ravager of Arcadia? And was it not of no avail to the Hydra to grow through {its own} loss, and to recover double strength? And what besides? When I beheld the Thracian steeds fattened with human blood, and the mangers filled with mangled bodies, did I throw them down when {thus} beheld, and slay both the master and {the horses} themselves? {And} does the carcass of the Nemean {lion} lie crushed by these arms? With this neck did I support the heavens? The unrelenting wife of Jupiter was weary of commanding, {but} I was {still} unwearied with doing. But {now} a new calamity is come upon me, to which resistance can be made neither by valour, nor by weapons, nor by arms. A consuming flame is pervading the inmost recesses of my lungs, and is preying on all my limbs. But Eurystheus {still} survives. And are there,” says he, “any who can believe that the Deities exist?”

And {then}, racked with pain, he ranges along the lofty Œta, no otherwise than if a tiger should chance to carry the hunting spears fixed in his body, and the perpetrator of the deed should be taking to flight. Often might you have beheld him uttering groans, often shrieking aloud, often striving to tear away the whole of his garments, and levelling trees, and venting his fury against mountains, or stretching out his arms towards the heaven of his father. Lo! he espies Lichas, trembling and lying concealed in a hollow rock, and, as his pain has summoned together all his fury, he says, “Didst thou, Lichas, bring {this} fatal present; and shalt thou be the cause of my death?” He trembles, and {turning} pale, is alarmed, and timorously utters some words of excuse. As he is speaking, and endeavouring to clasp his knees with his hands, Alcides seizes hold of him, and whirling him round three or four times, he hurls him into the Eubœan waves, with greater force than {if sent} from an engine of war. As he soars aloft in the aerial breeze he grows hard; and as they say that showers freeze with the cold winds, {and} that thence snow is formed, and that from the snow, revolving {in its descent}, the soft body is compressed, and is {then} made round in many a hailstone, so have former ages declared, that, hurled through the air by the strong arms {of Hercules}, and bereft of blood through fear, and having no moisture left in him, he was transformed into hard stone. Even to this day, in the Eubœan sea, a small rock projects to a height, and retains the traces of the human form. This, the sailors are afraid to tread upon, as though it could feel it; and they call it Lichas.

But thou, the famous offspring of Jupiter, having cut down, trees which lofty Œta bore, and having raised them for a pile, dost order the son of Pœas to take the bow and the capacious quiver, and the arrows which are again to visit the Trojan realms; by whose assistance flames are put beneath the pile; and while the structure is being seized by the devouring fires, thou dost cover the summit of the heap of wood with the skin of the Nemean {lion}, and dost lie down with thy neck resting on thy club, with no other countenance than if thou art lying as a guest crowned with garlands, amid the full cups of wine.

And now, the flames, prevailing and spreading on every side, roared, and reached the limbs {thus} undismayed, and him who despised them. The Gods were alarmed for {this} protector of the earth; Saturnian Jupiter (for he perceived it) thus addressed them with joyful voice: “This fear of yours is my own delight, O ye Gods of heaven, and, with all my heart, I gladly congratulate myself that I am called the governor and the father of a grateful people, and that my progeny, too, is secure in your esteem. For, although this {concern} is given {in return} for his mighty exploits, {still} I myself am obliged {by} it. But, however, that your affectionate breasts may not be alarmed with vain fears, despise these flames of Œta. He who has conquered all things, shall conquer the fires which you behold; nor shall he be sensible of the potency of the flame, but in the part {of him} which he derived from his mother. {That part of him}, which he derived from me, is immortal, and exempt and secure from death, and to be subdued by no flames. This, too, when disengaged from earth, I will receive into the celestial regions, and I trust that this act of mine will be agreeable to all the Deities. Yet if any one, if any one, {I say}, perchance should grieve at Hercules being a Divinity, {and} should be unwilling that this honour should be conferred on him; still he shall know that he deserves it to be bestowed {on him}, and {even} against his will, shall approve of it.”

{To this} the Gods assented; his royal spouse, too, seemed to bear the rest {of his remarks} with no discontented {air}, but only the last words with a countenance of discontent, and to take it amiss that she was {so plainly} pointed at. In the mean time, whatever was liable to be destroyed by flame, Mulciber consumed; and the figure of Hercules remained, not to be recognized; nor did he have anything derived from the form of his mother, and he only retained the traces of {immortal} Jupiter. And as when a serpent revived, by throwing off old age with his slough, is wont to be instinct with fresh life, and to glisten in his new-made scales; so, when the Tirynthian {hero} has put off his mortal limbs, he flourishes in his more æthereal part, and begins to appear more majestic, and to become venerable in his august dignity. Him the omnipotent Father, taking up among encircling clouds, bears aloft amid the glittering stars, in his chariot drawn by {its} four steeds.

Henry T. Riley, 1851 — 18 notes

1. _Nessus._--Ver. 101. He was one of the Centaurs which were begotten by Ixion the cloud sent by Jupiter, under the form of Juno.
2. _Evenus._--Ver. 104. This was a river of Ætolia, which was also called by the name of ‘Lycormas.’
3. _Strong of limb._--Ver. 108. ‘Membrisque valens,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘being an able-limbed fellow.’
4. _Wheel of thy father._--Ver. 124. He alludes to the punishment of Ixion, the father of Nessus, who was fastened to a revolving wheel in the Infernal Regions, as a punishment for his attempt on the chastity of Juno.
5. _Thou dost confide._--Ver. 125. ‘Quamvis ope fidis equinâ,’ is translated by Clarke, ‘Although thou trustest to the help of thy horse part.’
6. _Cenæan Jupiter._--Ver. 136. Jupiter was called Cenæan, from Cenæum, a promontory of Eubœa, where Hercules, after having taken the town of Œchalia, built an altar in honour of Jupiter. Hercules slew Eurytus, the king of Œchalia, and carried away his daughter Iole.
7. _Lichas._--Ver. 155. This was the attendant of Hercules, whom he sent to Deïanira for the garment which he used to wear while performing sacrifice.
8. _The savage Antæus._--Ver. 183. He alludes to the fresh strength which the giant Antæus gained each time he touched the earth.
9. _Iberian shepherd._--Ver. 184. Allusion is here made to Geryon, who had three bodies, and whom Hercules slew, and then carried away his herds. It has been suggested that the story of his triple form originated in the fact that he and his two brothers reigned amicably in conjunction over some portion of Spain, or the islands adjoining to it.
10. _Parthenian._--Ver. 188. A part of Arcadia was so called from Parthenium, a mountain which divided it from Argolis; there was also, according to Pliny the Elder, a town of the same name in Arcadia.
11. _Gold of Thermodon._--Ver. 189. The Thermodon was a river of Scythia, near which the Amazons were said to dwell. Eurystheus ordered Hercules to bring to him the belt of Hippolyta, the queen of the Amazons.
12. _Support the heavens._--Ver. 198. Atlas, king of Mauritania, was said to support the heavens on his shoulders, of which burden Hercules relieved him for a time, when he partook of his hospitality. It has been suggested that the meaning of this story is, that Hercules learned the study of astronomy from Atlas.
13. _Wife of Jupiter._--Ver. 199. Juno gave her commands to Hercules through Eurystheus, the son of Sthenelus, king of Mycenæ, who imposed upon him his various labours.
14. _Many a hailstone._--Ver. 222. Ovid here seems to think that snow is an intermediate state between rain and hail, and that hail is formed by the rapid motion of the snow as it falls.
15. _The son of Pœas._--Ver. 233. Philoctetes was the son of Pœas.
16. _Again to visit._--Ver. 232. It was decreed by the destinies that Troy should not be taken, unless the bow and arrows of Hercules were present; for which reason it was necessary to send for Philoctetes, who was the possessor of them. Troy had already seen them, when Hercules punished Laomedon, its king, for his perfidious conduct.
17. _Roared._--Ver. 239. ‘Diffusa sonabat--flamma’ is translated by Clarke, ‘The flame, being diffused on all sides, rattled.’
18. _Protector of the earth._--Ver. 241. Hercules merited this character, for having cleared the earth of monsters, robbers, and tyrants.

3

Atlas was sensible of this burden. Nor, as yet, had Eurystheus, the son of Sthenelus, laid aside his wrath {against Hercules}; and, in his fury, he vented his hatred for the father against his offspring. But the Argive Alcmena, disquieted with prolonged anxieties {for her son} has Iole, to whom to disclose the complaints of her old age, to whom to relate the achievements of her son attested by {all} the world, or to whom {to tell} her own misfortunes. At the command of Hercules, Hyllus had received her both into his bed and his affections, and had filled her womb with a noble offspring. To her, thus Alcmena began {her story}:--

“May the Gods be propitious to thee at least; and may they shorten the tedious hours, at the hour when, having accomplished thy time, thou shalt be invoking Ilithyïa, who presides over the trembling parturient women; her whom the influence of Juno rendered inexorable to myself. For, when now the natal hour of Hercules, destined for so many toils, was at hand, and the tenth sign {of the Zodiac} was laden with the {great} luminary, the heavy weight was extending my womb; and that which I bore was so great, that you might {easily} pronounce Jupiter to be the father of the concealed burden. And now I was no longer able to endure my labours: even now, too, as I am speaking, a cold shudder seizes my limbs, and a part of my pain is the remembrance of it. Tormented for seven nights, and during as many days, tired out with misery, and extending my arms towards heaven, with loud cries I used to invoke Lucina and the two Nixi. She came, indeed, but corrupted beforehand, and she had the intention to give my life to the vengeful Juno. And when she heard my groans, she seated herself upon that altar before the door, and pressing her left knee with her right knee, her fingers being joined together in {form of} a comb, she retarded my delivery; she uttered charms, too, in a low voice; and {those} charms impeded the birth {now} begun. I struggled hard, and, in my frenzy, I vainly uttered reproaches against the ungrateful Jupiter, and I desired to die, and complained in words that would have moved {even} the hard stones. The Cadmeian matrons attended me, and offered up vows, and encouraged me in my pains.

“There was present one of my hand-maids of the lower class of people, Galanthis {by name}, with yellow hair, {and} active in the execution of my orders; one beloved for her good services. She perceived that something unusual was being done by the resentful Juno; and, while she was often going in and out of the door, she saw the Goddess, sitting upon the altar, and supporting her arms upon her knees, linked by the fingers; and {then} she said, ‘Whoever thou art, congratulate my mistress; the Argive Alcmena is delivered, and, having brought forth, she has gained her wishes.’ The Goddess who presides over pregnancy leaped up, and, struck with surprise, loosened her joined hands. I, myself, on the loosening of those bonds, was delivered. The story is, that Galanthis laughed, upon deceiving the Divinity. The cruel Goddess dragged her along {thus} laughing and seized by her very hair, and she hindered her as she attempted to raise her body from the earth, and changed her arms into fore feet.

“Her former activity {still} remains, and her back has not lost its colour; {but} her shape is different from her former one. Because she had assisted me in labour by a lying mouth, she brings forth from the mouth, and, just as before, she frequents my house.”

Henry T. Riley, 1851 — 7 notes

1. _Atlas was sensible._--Ver. 273. By reason of his supporting the heavens, to the inhabitants of which Hercules was now added.
2. _Ilithyïa._--Ver. 283. This Goddess is said by some to have been the daughter of Jupiter and Juno, while other writers consider her to have been the same either with Diana, or Juno Lucina.
3. _The two Nixi._--Ver. 294. Festus says, ‘the three statues in the Capitol, before the shrine of Minerva, were called the Gods Nixii.’ Nothing whatever is known of these Gods, who appear to have been obstetrical Divinities. It has been suggested, as there were three of them, that the reading should be, not ‘Nixosque pares,’ but ‘Nixosque Lares,’ ‘and the Lares the Nixi.’
4. _Form of a comb._--Ver. 299. This charm probably was suggestive of difficult or impeded parturition, the bones of the pelvis being firmly knit together in manner somewhat resembling the fingers when inserted one between the other, instead of yielding for the passage of the infant. Pliny the Elder informs us how parturition may be impeded by the use of charms.
5. _Something unusual._--Ver. 309. ‘Nescio quid.’ This very indefinite phrase is repeatedly used by Ovid; and in such cases, it expresses either actual doubt or uncertainty, as in the present instance; or it is used to denote something remarkable or indescribable, or to show that a thing is insignificant, mean, and contemptible.
6. _Goddess who presides._--Ver. 315. This was Ilithyïa, or Lucina, who was acting as the emissary of Juno.
7. _From the mouth._--Ver. 323. This notion is supposed to have been grounded on the fact of the weasel (like many other animals) carrying her young in her mouth from place to place.

4

Thus she said; and, moved by the remembrance of her old servant, she heaved a deep sigh. Her daughter-in-law addressed her, thus grieving. “Even her form being taken away from one that was an alien to thy blood, affects thee, O mother. What if I were to relate to thee the wondrous fate of my own sister? although tears and sorrow hinder me, and forbid me to speak. Dryope, the most remarkable for her beauty of the Œchalian maids, was the only daughter of her mother ({for} my father had me by another {wife}). Deprived of her virginity, and having suffered violence from the God that owns Delphi and Delos, Andræmon married her, and he was esteemed fortunate in his wife.

“There is a lake that gives the appearance of a sloping shore, by its shelving border; groves of myrtle crown the upper part. Hither did Dryope come, unsuspecting of her fate; and, that thou mayst be the more indignant {at her lot}, she was about to offer garlands to the Nymphs. In her bosom, too, she was bearing her son, who had not yet completed his first year, a pleasing burden; and she was nursing him, with the help of {her} warm milk. Not far from the lake was blooming a watery lotus that vied with the Tyrian tints, in hope of {future} berries. Dryope had plucked thence some flowers, which she might give as playthings to her child; and I, too, was just on the point of doing the same; for I was present. I saw bloody drops fall from the flower, and the boughs shake with a tremulous quivering; for, as the swains say, now, at length, too late {in their information}, the Nymph Lotis, flying from the lust of Priapus, had transferred her changed form into this {plant}, her name being {still} preserved.

“Of this my sister was ignorant. When, in her alarm, she is endeavouring to retire and to depart, having adored the Nymphs, her feet are held fast by a root. She strives hard to tear them up, but she moves nothing except her upper parts. From below, a bark slowly grows up, and, by degrees, it envelopes the whole of her groin. When she sees this, endeavouring to tear her hair with her hands, she fills her hand with leaves, {for} leaves are covering all her head. But the boy Amphissos (for his grandfather Eurytus gave him this name) feels his mother’s breast growing hard; nor does the milky stream follow upon his sucking. I was a spectator of thy cruel destiny, and I could give thee no help, my sister; and {yet}, as long as I could, I delayed the growing trunk and branches by embracing them; and, I confess it, I was desirous to be hidden beneath the same bark. Behold! her husband Andræmon and her most wretched father appear, and inquire for Dryope: on their inquiring for Dryope, I show them the lotus. They give kisses to the wood {still} warm {with life}, and, extended {on the ground}, they cling to the roots of their own tree. {And} now, dear sister, thou hadst nothing except thy face, that was not tree. Tears drop upon the leaves made out of thy changed body; and, while she can, and {while} her mouth gives passage to her voice, she pours forth such complaints {as these} into the air:--

“‘If any credit {is to be given} to the wretched, I swear by the Deities that I merited not this cruel usage. I suffer punishment without a crime. I lived in innocence; if I am speaking false, withered away, may I lose the leaves which I bear, and, cut down with axes, may I be burnt. Yet take this infant away from the branches of his mother, and give him to his nurse; and often, beneath my tree, make him drink milk, and beneath my tree let him play; and, when he shall be able to speak, make him salute his mother, and let him in sadness say, ‘Beneath this trunk is my mother concealed.’ Yet let him dread the ponds, and let him not pluck flowers from the trees; and let him think that all shrubs are the bodies of Goddesses. Farewell, dear husband; and thou, sister; and, {thou} my father; in whom, if there is any affection {towards me}, protect my branches from the wounds of the sharp pruning-knife, {and} from the bite of the cattle. And since it is not allowed me to bend down towards you, stretch your limbs up hither, and come near for my kisses, while they can {still} be reached, and lift up my little son. More I cannot say. For the soft bark is now creeping along my white neck, and I am being enveloped at the top of my head. Remove your hands from my eyes; {and}, without your help, let the bark, closing over them, cover my dying eyes.’ Her mouth ceased at once to speak, at once to exist; and long after her body was changed, were her newly formed branches {still} warm.”

And {now}, while Iole was relating the wretched fate of her sister, and while Alcmena was drying away the tears of the daughter of Eurytus, with her fingers applied {to her face}, and still she herself was weeping, a novel event hushed all their sorrow; for Iolaüs stood at the lofty threshold, almost a boy {again}, and covering his cheeks with a down almost imperceptible, having his visage changed to {that of} the first years {of manhood}. Hebe, the daughter of Juno had granted him this favour, overcome by the solicitations of her husband. When she was about to swear that she would hereafter grant such favours to no one, Themis did not allow her. “For now,” said she, “Thebes is commencing civil warfare, and Capaneus will not be able to be overcome, except by Jupiter, and the two brothers will engage in bloody combat, and the earth dividing, the prophet {Amphiaraüs} will see his {destined} shades, while he still lives; and the son avenging one parent, by {the death of} the {other} parent, will be dutiful and wicked in the same action; and confounded by his misfortunes, deprived both of his reason and of his home, he will be persecuted both by the features of the Eumenides, and by the ghost of his mother; until his wife shall call upon him for the fatal gold, and the Phegeïan sword shall stab the side of their kinsman. Then, at last, shall Calirrhoë, the daughter of Acheloüs, suppliantly ask of mighty Jupiter these years {of youth} for her infant sons. Jupiter, concerned {for them}, will prescribe for them the {peculiar} gift of her who is {both} his step-daughter and his daughter-in-law, and will make them men in their years of childhood.”

When Themis, foreseeing the future, had said these words with prophetic voice, the Gods above murmured in varying discourse; and the complaint was, why it might not be allowed others to grant the same gifts. {Aurora}, the daughter of Pallas, complained of the aged years of her husband; the gentle Ceres complained that Iäsion was growing grey; Mulciber demanded for Ericthonius a life to live over again; a concern for the future influenced Venus, too, and she made an offer to renew the years of Anchises.

Henry T. Riley, 1851 — 10 notes

1. _Her daughter-in-law._--Ver. 325. Iole was the wife of Hyllus, the son of Deïanira, by Hercules.
2. _Lust of Priapus._--Ver. 347. ‘Fugiens obscœna Priapi,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘Flying from the nasty attempts of Priapus upon her.’
3. _Most wretched father._--Ver. 363. Eurytus was the father of Dryope.
4. _From my eyes._--Ver. 390. This alludes to the custom among the ancients of closing the eyes of the dying, which duty was performed by the nearest relations, who, closing the eyes and mouth, called upon the dying person by name, and exclaimed ‘Vale,’ ‘farewell.’
5. _Iolaüs._--Ver. 399. He was the son of Iphiclus, the brother of Hercules. See the Explanation in the next page.
6. _Civil warfare._--Ver. 404. This alludes to the Theban war, carried on between Eteocles and Polynices, the sons of Œdipus and Jocasta. Agreeing to reign in alternate years, Eteocles refused to give place to his brother when his year had terminated, on which Polynices fled to the court of Adrastus, king of Argos, and raised troops against his brother.
7. _While he still lives._--Ver. 407. This was Amphiaraüs, the son of Œcleus, and Hypermnestra, who was betrayed by his wife Eriphyle.
8. _Daughter-in-law._--Ver. 415. Hebe, the Goddess of Youth, was the daughter of Juno alone, without the participation of Jupiter; and from this circumstance she is styled the step-daughter of Jupiter. She was also his daughter-in-law on becoming the wife of Hercules.
9. _The complaint was._--Ver. 420. ‘Murmur erat,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘The grumbling was, why, &c.’
10. _Iäsion._--Ver. 422. Iäsius, or Iäsion, was the son of Jupiter and Electra, and was the father of Plutus, the God of Riches, by the Goddess Cybele.

5

Every God has some one to favour; and their jarring discord is increasing by their {various} interests, until Jupiter opens his mouth, and says, “O, if you have any regard for me, to what rash steps are you proceeding? Does any one {of you} seem to himself so powerful as to overcome even the Fates? By the Fates has Iolaüs returned to those years which he has spent; by the Fates ought the sons of Calirrhoë to become young men, {and} not by ambition or by dint of arms. And do you, too, endure this as well with more contented mind, {for} even me do the Fates govern; could I but change them, declining years should not be making my {son} Æacus to bend {beneath them}; and Rhadamanthus should have the everlasting flower of age, together with my {son}, Minos, who is {now} looked down upon on account of the grievous weight of old age, and does not reign with the dignity with which once {he did}.”

The words of Jupiter influenced the Divinities; and no one continued to complain when they saw Rhadamanthus and Æacus, and Minos, weary with years; {Minos}, who, when he was in the prime of life, had alarmed great nations with his very name. Then, {however}, he was enfeebled by age, and was alarmed by Miletus, the son of Deione, exulting in the strength of youth, and in Phœbus as his sire; and {though} believing that he was aiming at his kingdom, still he did not dare to drive him away from his native home. Of thy own accord, Miletus, thou didst fly, and in the swift ship thou didst pass over the Ægean waters, and in the land of Asia didst build a city, bearing the name of its founder. Here Cyane, the daughter of {the river} Mæander, that so often returns to the same place, while she was following the windings of her father’s bank, of a body excelling in beauty, being known by thee, brought forth a double offspring, Byblis, with Caunus, {her brother}.

Byblis is an example that damsels {only} ought to love what it is allowed them {to love}; Byblis, seized with a passion for her brother, the descendant of Apollo, loved him not as a sister {loves} a brother, nor in such manner as she ought. At first, indeed, she understands nothing of the flame, and she does not think that she is doing wrong in so often giving him kisses, {and} in throwing her arms round the neck of her brother; and for a long time she {herself} is deceived, by this resemblance of natural affection. By degrees this affection degenerates, and decked out, she comes to see her brother, and is too anxious to appear beautiful; and if there is any woman there more beautiful, she envies her. But, as yet she is not fully discovered to herself, and under that flame conceives no wishes; but still, inwardly she is agitated. At one moment she calls him sweetheart, at another, she hates the mention of his relationship; and now she prefers that he should call her Byblis, rather than sister. Still, while awake, she does not dare admit any criminal hopes into her mind; {but} when dissolved in soft sleep, she often sees the {object} which she is in love with. She seems to be even embracing her brother, and she blushes, though she is lying buried in sleep. Slumber departs; for a long time she is silent, and she recalls to {memory} the appearance of her dream, and thus she speaks with wavering mind:

“Ah, wretched me! What means this vision of the silent night? How far am I from wishing it real. Why have I seen this dream? He is, indeed, beautiful, even to envious eyes. He pleases me, too; and were he not my brother, I could love him, and he would be worthy of me. But it is my misfortune that I am his sister. So long as I strive, while awake, to commit no such {attempt}, let sleep often return with the like appearance. No witness is there in sleep; and yet there is the resemblance of the delight. O Venus and winged Cupid, together with thy voluptuous mother, how great the joys I experienced! how substantial the transport which affected me! How I lay dissolved {in delight} throughout my whole marrow! How pleasing to remember it; although short-lived was that pleasure, and the night sped onward rapidly, and was envious of my attempts {at bliss}. Oh, could I only be united {to thee}, by changing my name, how happily, Caunus, could I become the daughter-in-law of thy father! how happily, Caunus, couldst thou become the son-in-law of my father! O, that the Gods would grant that all things were in common with us, except our ancestors. Would that thou wast more nobly born than myself. For this reason then, most beauteous one, thou wilt make some stranger, whom I know not, a mother; but to me, who have unhappily got the same parents as thyself, thou wilt be nothing {more} than a brother. That {tie} alone we shall have, which bars all else. What, then, do my visions avail me? And what weight have dreams? And do dreams have any weight? The Gods {fare} better; for the Gods have their own sisters {in marriage}. Thus Saturn married Ops, related to him by blood; Ocean Tethys, the ruler of Olympus Juno. The Gods above have their privileges. Why do I attempt to reduce human customs to the rule of divine ordinances, and those so different? Either this forbidden flame shall be expelled from my heart, or if I cannot effect that, I pray that I may first perish, and that when dead I may be laid out on my bed, and that my brother may give me kisses as I lie. And besides, this matter requires the inclination of us both; suppose it pleases me; to him it will seem to be a crime. But the sons of Æolus did not shun the embraces of their sisters. But whence have I known of these? Why have I furnished myself with these precedents? Whither am I hurried onward? Far hence begone, ye lawless flames! and let not my brother be loved by me, but as it is lawful for a sister {to love him}. But yet, if he had been first seized with a passion for me, perhaps I might have indulged his desires. Am I then, myself, to court him, whom I would not have rejected, had he courted me? And canst thou speak out? And canst thou confess it? Love will compel me. I can. Or if shame shall restrain my lips, a private letter shall confess the latent flame.”

This thought pleases her, this determines her wavering mind. She raises herself on her side, and leaning on her left elbow, she says, “He shall see it; let me confess my frantic passion. Ah, wretched me! How am I degrading myself! What flame is my mind {now} kindling!” And {then}, with trembling hand, she puts together the words well weighed. Her right hand holds the iron {pen}, the other, clean wax tablets. She begins, and {then} she hesitates; she writes, and {then} corrects what is written; she marks, and {then} scratches out; she alters, and condemns, and approves; and one while she throws them down when taken up, and at another time, she takes them up again, when thrown aside. What she would have, she knows not. Whatever she seems on the point of doing, is not to her taste. In her features are assurance mingled with shame. {The word} ‘sister’ is written; it seems {as well} to efface {the word} ‘sister,’ and {then} to write such words as these upon the smoothed wax: “Thy lover wishes thee that health which she, herself, is not to enjoy, unless thou shalt grant it. I am ashamed! Oh, I am ashamed to disclose my name! and shouldst thou inquire what it is I wish; without my name could I wish my cause to be pleaded, and that I might not be known as Byblis, until the hopes of {enjoying} my desires were realized. There might have been as a proof to thee of my wounded heart, my {pale} complexion, my falling away, my {downcast} looks, and my eyes often wet with tears, sighs, too, fetched without any seeming cause; frequent embraces too, and kisses, which, if perchance thou didst observe, could not be deemed to be those of a sister. Still I, myself, though I had a grievous wound in my soul, {and} although there was a raging fire within, have done everything, as the Gods are my witnesses, that at last I might be cured; and long, in my wretchedness, have I struggled to escape the ruthless weapon of Cupid; and I have endured more hardships than thou wouldst believe that a maiden could endure.

“Vanquished {at length}, I am forced to own {my passion}; and with timorous prayers, to entreat thy aid. Thou alone canst save, thou destroy, one who loves thee. Choose which thou wilt do. She is not thy enemy who begs this; but one who, though most nearly connected with thee, desires to be still more closely connected, and to be united to thee in a nearer tie. Let aged men be acquainted with ordinances, and make inquiry what is lawful, and what is wicked, and what is proper; and let them employ themselves in considering the laws. A passion that dares all consequences is suited to our years. As yet, we know not what is lawful, and we believe that all things are lawful, and {so} follow the example of the great Gods. Neither a severe father, nor regard for character, nor fear, shall restrain us, {if} only the cause for fearing is removed. Under a brother’s name will we conceal our stolen joys {so} sweet. I have the liberty of conversing with thee in private; and {even} before others do we give embraces, and exchange kisses. How little is it that is wanting! do have pity on the love of her who confesses it, and who would not confess it, did not extreme passion compel her; and merit not to be inscribed on my tomb as the cause {of my death}.”

The filled tablets fall short for her hand, as it vainly inscribes such words as these, and the last line is placed in the margin. At once she seals up her own condemnation, with the impress of a signet, which she wets with her tears, {for} the moisture has deserted her tongue. Filled with shame, she {then} calls one of her male domestics, and gently addressing him in timorous tones, she said, “Carry these, most trusty one, to my,” and, after a long pause, she added, “brother.” While she was delivering them, the tablets, slipping from her hands, fell down. She was shocked by this omen, but still she sent them. The servant, having got a fit opportunity, goes {to her brother} and delivers the secret writing. The Mæandrian youth, seized with sudden anger, throws away the tablets {so} received, when he has read a part; and, with difficulty withholding his hands from the face of the trembling servant, he says, “Fly hence, O thou accursed pander to forbidden lust, who shouldst have given me satisfaction by thy death, if {it was} not {that} thy destruction would bring disgrace on my character.” Frightened, he hastens away, and reports to his mistress the threatening expressions of Caunus. Thou, Byblis, on hearing of his refusal, turnest pale, and thy breast, beset with an icy chill, is struck with alarm; yet when thy senses return, so, too, does thy frantic passion return, and thy tongue with difficulty utters such words as these, the air being struck {by thy accents}:

“And deservedly {am I thus treated}; for why, in my rashness, did I make the discovery of this wound? why have I so speedily committed words to a hasty letter, which ought {rather} to have been concealed? The feelings of his mind ought first to have been tried beforehand by me, with ambiguous expressions. Lest he should not follow me in my course, I ought, with some part of my sail {only}, to have observed what kind of a breeze it was, and to have scudded over the sea in safety; {whereas}, now, I have filled my canvass with winds {before} untried. I am driven upon rocks in consequence; and sunk, I am buried beneath the whole ocean, and my sails have {now} no retreat. And besides, was I not forbidden, by unerring omens, to indulge my passion, at the time when the waxen {tablets} fell, as I ordered him to deliver them, and made my hopes sink to the ground? and ought not either the day to have been changed, or else my whole intentions; but rather, {of the two}, the day? {Some} God himself warned me, and gave me unerring signs, if I had not been deranged; and yet I ought to have spoken out myself, and not to have committed myself to writing, and personally {I ought} to have discovered my passion; {then} he would have seen my tears, {then} he would have seen the features of her who loved him; I might have given utterance to more than what the letter contained. I might have thrown my arms around his reluctant neck, and have embraced his feet, and lying {on the ground}, I might have begged for life; and if I had been repelled, I might have seemed on the point of death. All this, {I say}, I might {then} have done; if each of these things could not {singly} have softened his obdurate feelings, {yet} all of them might.

“Perhaps, too, there may be some fault in the servant that was sent. He did not wait on him at a convenient moment; he did not choose, I suppose, a fitting time; nor did he request both the hour and his attention to be disengaged. ’Tis this that has undone me; for he was not born of a tigress, nor does he carry in his breast hard flints, or solid iron, or adamant; nor yet did he suck the milk of a lioness. He will {yet} be won. Again must he be attacked. And no weariness will I admit of in {the accomplishment of} my design, so long as this breath {of mine} shall remain. For the best thing (if I could {only} recall what has been destined) would have been, not to have made the attempt; the next best thing is, to urge the accomplishment of what is begun; for he cannot (suppose I were to relinquish my design) ever be unmindful of this my attempt; and because I have desisted, I shall appear to have desired for but an instant, or even to have been trying him, and to have solicited him with the intention to betray; or, at least, I shall be thought not to have been overcome by this God, who with such intensity {now} burns, and has burnt my breast, but rather by lust. In fine, I cannot now be guiltless of a wicked deed; I have both written {to him}, and I have solicited {him}; my inclination has been defiled. Though I were to add nothing more, I cannot be pronounced innocent: as to what remains, {’twill add} much to {the gratifying of} my wishes, {but} little to my criminality.”

{Thus} she says; and (so great is the unsteadiness of her wavering mind) though she is loath to try him, she has a wish to try him, and she exceeds {all} bounds, and, to her misery, exposes herself to be often repulsed. At length, when there is {now} no end {to this}, he flies from his country and {the commission of} this crime, and founds a new city in a foreign land. But then, they say that the daughter of Miletus, in her sadness, was bereft of all understanding. Then did she tear her garments away from her breast, and in her frenzy beat her arms. And now she is openly raving, and she proclaims the unlawful hopes of {unnatural} lust. Deprived of these {hopes}, she deserts her native land, and her hated home, and follows the steps of her flying brother. And as the Ismarian Bacchanals, son of Semele, aroused by thy thyrsus, celebrate thy triennial festivals, as they return, no otherwise did the Bubasian matrons see Byblis howling over the wide fields; leaving which, she wandered through {the country of} the Carians, and the warlike Leleges, and Lycia.

And now she has left behind Cragos, and Lymira, and the waves of Xanthus, and the mountain in which the Chimæra had fire in its middle parts, the breast and the face of a lioness, and the tail of a serpent. The woods {at length} fail thee; when thou, Byblis, wearied with following him, dost fall down, and laying thy tresses upon the hard ground, art silent, and dost press the fallen leaves with thy face. Often, too, do the Lelegeïan Nymphs endeavour to raise her in their tender arms; often do they advise her to curb her passion, and they apply consolation to a mind insensible {to their advice}. Silent does Byblis lie, and she tears the green herbs with her nails, and waters the grass with the stream of her tears. They say that the Naiads placed beneath these {tears} a channel which could never become dry; and what greater gift had they to bestow? Immediately, as drops from the cut bark of the pitch tree, or as the viscid bitumen distils from the impregnated earth, or as water which has frozen with the cold, at the approach of Favonius, gently blowing, melts away in the sun, so is Byblis, the descendant of Phœbus, dissolving in her tears, changed into a fountain, which even now, in those vallies, bears the name of its mistress, and flows beneath a gloomy oak.

Henry T. Riley, 1851 — 19 notes

1. _Every God has._--Ver. 425-6. ‘Cui studeat, Deus omnis habet crescitque favore Turbida seditio.’ Clarke thus renders these words, ‘Every God has somebody to stickle for, and a turbulent sedition arises by their favours for their darlings.’
2. _Son of Deione._--Ver. 442. According to some writers, Miletus was the son of Apollo and Deione, though others say that Thia was the name of his mother. He was the founder of the celebrated city of Miletus, in Caria, a country of Asia Minor.
3. _Does not think._--Ver. 457. Clarke translates this line, ‘Nor does she think she does amiss that she so often tips him a kiss.’ Antoninus Liberalis says, that Eidothea, the daughter of the king of Paria, and not Cyane, was the mother of Byblis and Caunus.
4. _Sweetheart._--Ver. 465. The word ‘dominus’ was often used as a term of endearment between lovers.
5. _Married Ops._--Ver. 497. Ops, the daughter of Cœlus or Uranus, who was also called Cybele, Rhea, and ‘the great Mother,’ was fabled to have been the wife of her brother Saturn; while Oceanus, the son of Cœlus and Vesta, married his sister Tethys.
6. _Sons of Æolus._--Ver. 506. Æolus had six sons, to whom he was said to have given their sisters for wives. In the case, however, of his daughter Canace, who was pregnant by her brother Macareus, Æolus was more severe, as he sent her a sword, with which to put herself to death.
7. _Clean wax tablets._--Ver. 521. Before the tablet was written upon, the wax was ‘vacua,’ empty; or, as we say of writing-paper, ‘clean.’ There was a blunt end to the upper part of the ‘stylus,’ or iron pen, with which the wax was smoothed down when any writing was erased.
8. _Without my name._--Ver. 531-2. ‘Sine nomine vellem Posset agi mea causa meo,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘I could wish my business might be transacted without my name.’
9. _In the margin._--Ver. 564. Clarke translates, ‘Summusque in margine versus adhæsit,’ ‘And the last line was clapped into the margin.’
10. _Meandrian youth._--Ver. 573. Caunus was the grandson of the river Mæander.
11. _Part of my sail._--Ver. 589. She borrows this metaphor from sailors, who, before setting out, sometimes unfurl a little portion of the sail, to see how the wind blows.
12. _Rather of the two._--Ver. 598. Willing to believe anything in the wrong rather than herself; she is sure that the day was an unlucky one.
13. _Be attacked._--Ver. 615. ‘Repeteudas erit,’ Clarke translates, ‘I must at him again.’
14. _Founds a new city._--Ver. 633. This was Caunus, a city of Caria.
15. _Ismarian._--Ver. 641. Ismarus was a mountain of Thrace. The festival here alluded to was the ‘trieterica,’ or triennial feast of Bacchus.
16. _Bubasian matrons._--Ver. 643. We learn from Pliny the Elder that Bubasus was a region of Caria.
17. _Leleges._--Ver. 644. The Leleges were a warlike people of Caria, in Asia Minor, who were supposed to have sprung from Grecian emigrants, who first inhabited the adjacent island, and afterwards the continent. They were said to have their name from the Greek word λελεγμένοι ‘gathered,’ because they were collected from various places.
18. _Cragos._--Ver. 645. Cragos was a mountain of Lycia.
19. _Lymira._--Ver. 645. This was a city of Lycia, near Cragos.

6

The fame of this new prodigy would, perhaps, have filled the hundred cities of Crete, if Crete had not lately produced a nearer wonder {of her own}, in the change of Iphis.

For once on a time the Phæstian land adjoining to the Gnossian kingdom produced one Ligdus, of obscure name, a man of the freeborn class of common people. Nor were his means any greater than his rank, but his life and his honour were untainted. He startled the ears of his wife in her pregnancy, with these words, when her lying-in was near at hand: “Two things there are which I wish for; that thou mayst be delivered with very little pain, and that thou mayst bring forth a male child. The other alternative is a cause of greater trouble, and providence has denied us means {for bringing up a female}. The thing I abominate; but if a female should, by chance, be brought forth at thy delivery, (I command it with reluctance, forgive me, natural affection) let it be put to death.” {Thus} he said, and they bathed their faces with tears streaming down; both he who commanded, and she to whom the commands were given. But yet Telethusa incessantly urged her husband, with fruitless entreaties, not to confine his hopes within a compass so limited. {But} Ligdus’s resolution was fixed.

And now was she hardly {able} to bear her womb big with the burden ripe for birth; when in the middle of the night, under the form of a vision, the daughter of Inachus, attended by a train of her votaries, either stood, or seemed to stand, before her bed. The horns of the moon were upon her forehead, with ears of corn with their bright golden colour, and the royal ornament {of the diadem}; with her was the barking Anubis, and the holy Bubastis, and the particoloured Apis; he, too, who suppresses his voice, and with his finger enjoins silence. There were the sistra too, and Osiris, never enough sought for; and the foreign serpent, filled with soporiferous poison. When thus the Goddess addressed her, as though roused from her sleep, and seeing {all} distinctly: “O Telethusa, one of my votaries, lay aside thy grievous cares, and evade the commands of thy husband; and do not hesitate, when Lucina shall have given thee ease by delivery, to bring up {the child}, whatever it shall be. I am a befriending Goddess, and, when invoked, I give assistance; and thou shalt not complain that thou hast worshipped an ungrateful Divinity.”

{Thus} she advises her, and {then} retires from her chamber. The Cretan matron arises joyful from her bed; and suppliantly raising her pure hands towards the stars {of heaven}, prays that her vision may be fulfilled. When her pains increased, and her burden forced itself into the light, and a girl was born to the father unaware of it, the mother ordered it to be brought up, pretending it was a boy; and the thing gained belief, nor was any one but the nurse acquainted with the fact. The father performed his vows, and gave {the child} the name of its grandfather. The grandfather had been called Iphis. The mother rejoiced in that name because it was common {to both sexes}, nor would she be deceiving any one by it. Her deception lay unperceived under this fraud, the result of natural affection. The {child’s} dress was that of a boy; the face such, that, whether you gave it to a girl or to a boy, either would be beautiful. In the meantime the third year had {now} succeeded the tenth, when her father, O Iphis, promised to thee, in marriage, the yellow-haired Iänthe, who was a virgin the most commended among all the women of Phæstus, for the endowments of her beauty; the daughter of the Dictæan Telestes. Equal was their age, their beauty equal; and they received their first instruction, the elements {suited} to their age, from the same preceptor.

Love, in consequence, touches the inexperienced breasts of them both, and inflicts on each an equal wound; but {how} different are their hopes! Iänthe awaits the time of their union, and of the ceremonial agreed upon, and believes that she, whom she thinks to be a man, will be {her husband}. Iphis is in love with her whom she despairs to be able to enjoy, and this very thing increases her flame; and, {herself} a maid, she burns with passion for a maid. And, with difficulty, suppressing her tears, she says, “What issue {of my love} awaits me, whom the anxieties unknown to any {before}, and {so} unnatural, of an unheard-of passion, have seized upon? if the Gods would spare me, (they ought to have destroyed me, and if they would not have destroyed me), at least they should have inflicted some natural evil, and {one} common {to the human race}. Passion for a cow does not inflame a cow, nor does that for mares {inflame} the mares. The ram inflames the ewes; its own female follows the buck. And so do birds couple; and among all animals, no female is seized with passion for a female. Would that I did not exist.

“Yet, lest Crete might not be the producer of {all kinds of} prodigies, the daughter of the Sun loved a bull; that is to say, a female {loved} a male. My passion, if I confess the truth, is more extravagant than that. Still she pursued the hopes of enjoyment; still, by a subtle contrivance, and under the form of a cow, did she couple with the bull, and her paramour was one that might be deceived. But though the ingenuity of the whole world were to centre here, though Dædalus himself were to fly back again with his waxen wings, what could he do? Could he, by his skilful arts, make me from a maiden into a youth? or could he transform thee, Iänthe? But why dost thou not fortify thy mind, and recover thyself, Iphis? And why not shake off this passion, void of {all} reason, and senseless {as it is}? Consider what it was thou wast born (unless thou art deceiving thyself as well), and pursue that which is allowable, and love that which, as a woman, thou oughtst {to love}. Hope it is that produces, Hope it is that nourishes love. This, the {very} case {itself} deprives thee of. No guard is keeping thee away from her dear embrace; no care of a watchful husband, no father’s severity; does not she herself deny thy solicitations. And yet she cannot be enjoyed by thee; nor, were everything possible done, couldst thou be blessed; {not}, though Gods and men were to do their utmost. And now, too, no portion of my desires is baffled, and the compliant Deities have granted me whatever they were able, and what I {desire}, my father wishes, she herself wishes, and {so does} my destined father-in-law; but nature, more powerful than all these, wills it not; she alone is an obstacle to me. Lo, the longed-for time approaches, and the wedding-day is at hand, when Iänthe should be mine; and {yet} she will not fall to my lot. In the midst of water, I shall be athirst. Why, Juno, guardian of the marriage rites, and why, Hymenæus, do you come to this ceremonial, where there is not the person who should marry {the wife}, {and} where both {of us females}, we are coupled in wedlock?”

After {saying} these words, she closes her lips. And no less does the other maid burn, and she prays thee, Hymenæus, to come quickly. Telethusa, dreading the same thing that she desires, at one time puts off the time {of the wedding}, and then raises delays, by feigning illness. Often, by way of excuse, she pretends omens and visions. But now she has exhausted all the resources of fiction; and the time for the marriage {so long} delayed is {now} at hand, and {only} one day remains; whereon she takes off the fillets for the hair from her own head and from that of her daughter, and embracing the altar with dishevelled locks, she says, “O Isis, thou who dost inhabit Parætonium, and the Mareotic fields, and Pharos, and the Nile divided into its seven horns, give aid, I beseech thee, and ease me of my fears. Thee, Goddess, thee, I once beheld, and these thy symbols; and all {of them} I recognized; both thy attendants, and thy torches, and the sound of the sistra, and I noted thy commands with mindful care. That this {girl} {now} sees the light, that I, myself, am not punished, is {the result of} thy counsel, and thy admonition; pity us both, and aid us with thy assistance.”

Tears followed her words. The Goddess seemed to move, (and she {really} did move) her altars; and the doors of her temple shook. Her horns, too, shone, resembling {those of} the moon, and the tinkling sistrum sounded. The mother departs from the temple, not free from concern indeed, still pleased with this auspicious omen. Iphis follows her, her companion as she goes, with longer strides than she had been wont; her fairness does not continue on her face; both her strength is increased, and her features are more stern; and shorter is the length of her scattered locks. There is more vigour, also, than she had {as} a female. {And} now thou art a male, who so lately wast a female. Bring offerings to the temple, and rejoice with no hesitating confidence. They do bring their offerings to the temple. They add, too, an inscription; the inscription contains {one} short line: “Iphis, a male, offers the presents, which, as a female, he had vowed.”

The following morn has disclosed the wide world with the rays {of the Sun}; when Venus, and Juno, and Hymenæus, repair to the social fires; and Iphis, {now} a youth, gains his {dear} Iänthe.

Henry T. Riley, 1851 — 16 notes

1. _Phæstian land._--Ver. 668. Phæstus was a city of Crete, built by Minos.
2. _Anubis._--Ver. 689. This was an Egyptian Deity, which had the body of a man, and the head of a dog. Some writers say that it was Mercury who was so represented, and that this form was given him in remembrance of the fact of Isis having used dogs in her search for Osiris, when he was slain by his brother Typhon. Other authors say, that Anubis was the son of Osiris, and that he distinguished himself with an helmet, bearing the figure of a dog, when he followed his father to battle.
3. _Bubastis._--Ver. 690. Though she is here an attendant of Isis, Diodorus Siculus represents her to have been the same divinity as Isis. Herodotus, however, says that Diana was worshipped by the Egyptians under that name. There was a city of Lower Egypt, called Bubastis, in which Isis was greatly venerated.
4. _Apis._--Ver. 690. This is supposed to have been another name for Osiris, whose body, having been burned on the funeral pile, the Egyptians believed that he re-appeared under the form of a bull; the name for which animal was ‘apis.’
5. _Who suppresses._--Ver. 691. This was the Egyptian divinity Harpocrates, the God of Secresy and Silence, who was represented with his finger laid on his lips.
6. _Osiris._--Ver. 692. When slain by his brother Typhon, Isis long sought him in vain, till, finding his scattered limbs by the aid of dogs, she entombed them. As the Egyptians had a yearly festival, at which they bewailed the loss of Osiris, and feigned that they were seeking him, Ovid calls that God, ‘Nunquam satis quæsitus,’ ‘Never enough sought for.’
7. _Foreign serpent._--Ver. 693. This is, most probably, the asp, a small serpent of Egypt, which is frequently found represented on the statues of Isis. Its bite was said to produce a lethargic sleep, ending in death. Cleopatra ended her life by the bite of one, which she ordered to be conveyed to her in a basket of fruit. Some commentators have supposed that the crocodile is here alluded to; but, as others have justly observed, the crocodile has no poisonous sting, but rather a capacity for devouring.
8. _A befriending Goddess._--Ver. 698. Diodorus Siculus says, that Isis was the discoverer of numerous remedies for disease, and that she greatly improved the healing art.
9. _Be deceiving._--Ver. 709. The name ‘Iphis’ being equally well for a male or a female.
10. _Of her daughter._--Ver. 770. We must suppose that Iphis wore the ‘vitta,’ which was an article of female dress, in private only, and in presence of her mother. Of course, in public, such an ornament would not have suited her, when appearing in the character of a man.
11. _Parætonium._--Ver. 772. Strabo says, that Parætonium was a city of Libya, with a capacious harbour.
12. _Mareotic fields._--Ver. 772. The Mareotic Lake was in the neighbourhood of the city of Alexandria.
13. _Pharos._--Ver. 772. This was an island opposite to Alexandria, famed for its light-house, which was erected to warn sailors from off the dangerous quicksands in the neighbourhood.
14. _This girl._--Ver. 778. Pointing at Iphis, who had attended her, Antoninus Liberalis says, that Telethusa prayed that Iphis might be transformed into a man, and cited a number of precedents for such a change.
15. _Her horns too._--Ver. 783. Isis was sometimes worshipped under the form of a cow, to the horns of which reference is here made.
16. _The social fires._--Ver. 795. On the occasion of marriages, offerings were made on the altars of Hymenæus and the other Deities, who were the guardians of conjugal rites.