Part 23

While thus the Thracian bard the forests drew, And rocks, and furious beasts with strains divine;-- Behold the Thracian dames! their madden'd breasts Clad with the shaggy spoil of furious beasts, Espy'd him from an hillock's rising swell, As to his sounding strings he shap'd the song. When one, her tresses in the ruffling air Wild streaming, cry'd--"Lo! him who spurns our ties!"-- And full her dart 'gainst the harmonious mouth Of Phoebus' son she flung: entwisted round With leaves, a bruise without a wound appear'd. A stone another for a weapon seiz'd; The flying stone was even in air subdu'd By harmony and song; and at his feet Low fell, as suppliant for its daring fault. But now the tumult swells more furious,--bounds It knows not! mad Erinnys reigns around. Yet all their weapons had his music's power Soften'd; but clamor, Berecynthian horns, Drums, clappings, bacchanalian shouts, and howls, Drown'd the soft lyre. Then were the stones distain'd With silenc'd Orpheus' blood. The Bacchæ first Drove wide the crowding birds, the snakes, the beasts, In throngs collected by his tuneful voice; Glory of Orpheus' stage. From thence they turn'd Their gory hands on Orpheus, and around Cluster'd like fowls that in the day espy The bird of darkness. Then as in the morn The high-rais'd amphitheatre beholds The stag a prey to hounds; so they the bard Attack'd, and flung their Thyrsi twin'd with leaves; For different use first form'd. Those hurl huge clods: These branches torn from trees; and others stones. Lest to their fury arms were wanting, lo! A yoke of oxen with the ploughshare broke The ground, not distant far; with sinews there Of nervous strength, the husbandmen upturn'd The stubborn soil; with sweat producing fruit. These, when the troop they saw, affrighted fled, Quitting their instruments of toil. Their rakes, Their ponderous harrows, and their huge long spades, Were scatter'd left on the deserted field. These when their furious hands had seiz'd, and tore From the strong oxen's heads the threatening horns, Back they return'd to end the poet's fate; And sacrilegious, as he stretch'd his hands, They slaughter'd him! Then first in vain his words Were utter'd; nought could then his speech avail. Then, heavenly powers! his spirit was expell'd And breath'd in air, even through that mouth whose sound Hard rocks had heard, and wildest beasts had own'd. For thee, O Orpheus! mourn'd the feather'd tribe, And crowds of savage monsters; flinty rocks Bewail'd thee; forests, which thy tempting song So oft had caus'd to follow, wept; the trees, Shorn of their pride, bewail'd with falling leaves. Each stream, 'tis said, with flowing tears increas'd Its current. Naïad nymphs and Dryads wore Garments of sable tinge, with streaming hair. Wide scatter'd lie his limbs. His head and lyre Thou, Hebrus, dost receive; and while they glide, Wond'rous occurrence! down the floating stream, The lyre a mournful moan sends forth; the lips, Now lifeless, murmur plaintive; and the bank Echoes the lamentations. Borne along To ocean, now his native stream they leave, And reach Methymna on the Lesbian shore.

The head, expos'd thus on the foreign sand, And locks still dropping with the watery wave, A snake approach'd. But Phoebus gave his aid, And check'd the greedy bite; with open jaws The serpent rears in stone congeal'd, as then Widely he gap'd. The ghost from earth descends, And views the regions he had view'd before. Exploring through th' Elysian fields he meets His dear Eurydicé; with longing arms He clasps her. Here they walk, now side by side, With equal pace; now follows he, and now A little space precedes her: Orpheus there Back on Eurydicé in safety looks.

But Bacchus suffer'd not the heinous deed Unpunish'd to remain; griev'd that the bard Who sung his praises, thus was snatch'd away, He bound the Thracian matrons, who the crime Had perpetrated, fast by twisted roots To earth as trees. He stretch'd their feet and toes, Which follow'd him so swift, and struck their points Deep in the solid earth: A bird ensnar'd Thus finds his leg imprison'd by the wires Hid by the crafty fowler, and his wings Beats, while his fluttering draws more tight the noose. So each, as firmly fixt to earth she stood, Affrighted strove to fly, but strove in vain: The flexile roots detain'd them; and fast ty'd, Spite of their struggling bounds, while they explore For toes and nails, and while they seek for feet, They see the wood their taper legs conceal; Their grieving hands to beat their thighs are rais'd; Their hands strike solid wood: their shoulders, breasts, Are also wood become. Their outstretch'd arms Extended boughs appear'd, and boughs they were.

Nor sated yet was Bacchus; all their fields He quits; attended by a worthier troop. To Tmolus' vineyards and Pactolus' stream He hies: the stream not yet for gold was fam'd; Not yet so precious were its envy'd sands. Satyrs and Bacchant' nymphs, his 'custom'd choir Attend him, but Silenus was not found. Him drunken had the rustic Phrygians seiz'd, Reeling with wine, and tottering 'neath his years; With ivy crown'd; and fetter'd to their king, The royal Midas, brought him. Midas once The Thracian Orpheus Bacchus' orgies taught, With sage Eumolpus; and at once he knew His old associate in the sacred rites; And joyful feasted with voluptuous fare, For twice five days, and twice five nights his guest. Th' eleventh time Phosphor' now the lofty host Of stars had chas'd from heaven; the jovial king Went forth to Lydia's fields, and there restor'd Silenus to the youth his foster-child. He, joy'd again his nursing sire to see, On him bestow'd his anxious sought desire, Though useless was the gift. Greedy he crav'd What only harm'd him,--saying--"Grant, O, power! "Whate'er I touch may straight to gold be chang'd"-- Bacchus consents to what he wishes;--gives The hurtful gift; but grieves to see his mind No better wish demand. Joyful departs The Berecynthian monarch, with ill-fate Delighted; and, each object touching, tries The promis'd faith. Scarcely himself believ'd, When from a growing ilex down he tore A sprouting bough, straight gold the bough became: A stone from earth he lifted, pale the stone In gold appear'd: he touch'd a turfy clod, The clod quick harden'd with the potent touch: He pluck'd the ripen'd hoary ears of wheat, And golden shone the grain: he from the tree An apple snatch'd, the fam'd Hesperian fruit He seem'd to hold: where'er his fingers touch'd The lofty pillars, all the pillars shone: Nay, where his hands he in the waters lav'd, The waters flowing from his hands seem'd such As Danaë might deceive. Scarce can his breast His towering projects hold; all fancy'd gold. Th' attendant slaves before their master, joy'd At this great fortune, heap'd the table high With dainties; nor was bread deficient there: But when his hands the Cerealian boon Had touch'd, the Cerealian boon grew hard: And when the dainty food with greedy tooth He strove to eat, the dainty food grew bright, In glittering plates, where'er his teeth had touch'd. He mixt pure water with his patron's wine, And fluid gold adown his cheeks straight flow'd. With panic seiz'd, the new-found plague to view, Rich, yet most wretched; from his wealthy hoard Fain would he fly; and from his soul detests What late he anxious pray'd. The plenteous gold Abates his hunger nought, and parching thirst Burns in his throat. He well deserves the curse Caus'd by now-hated gold. Lifting his hands And splendid arms to heaven, he cries,--"O sire "Lenæan! pardon my offence: my fault "Is evident; but pity me, I pray, "And from me move this fair deceitful curse." Bacchus, the gentlest of celestial powers, Reliev'd him, as he thus his error own'd: The compact first agreed dissolv'd, and void The grant became:--"Lest still thou shouldst remain "With gold"--he said,--"so madly wish'd, imbu'd, "Haste to the stream by mighty Sardis' town "Which flows; thy path along the mountain's ridge "Explore, opposing still the gliding waves, "Till thou the spring espy'st. Then deeply plunge "Beneath the foaming gush thy head, where full "It spouts its waters; and thy error cleanse, "As clean thy limbs thou washest."--To the stream The king as bidden hastes. The golden charm Tinges the river; from the monarch's limbs It passes to the stream. And now the banks Harden in veins of gold to sight disclos'd; And the pale sands in glittering splendor shine.

Detesting riches, now in woods he lives, And rural dales; with Pan, who still resorts To mountain caverns. Still his soul remains Stupidly dull; the folly of his breast Was doom'd to harm its owner as before.

High Tmolus rears with steep ascent his head, O'erlooking distant ocean; wide he spreads His bounds abrupt; confin'd by Sardis here, By small Hypæpé there. Upon his top, While Pan in boastful strain the tender nymphs Pleas'd with his notes, and on his wax-join'd reeds A paltry ditty play'd; boldly he dar'd To place his own above Apollo's song. The god to try th' unequal strife descends; Tmolus the umpire. On his mountain plac'd, The ancient judge from his attentive ears The branches clear'd; save that his azure head With oak was crown'd, and acorns dangling down His hollow temples grac'd. The shepherd's god Beholding,--"no delay, your judge,"--he said-- "Shall cause,"--and straight Pan sounds the rural reeds. His barbarous music much the judgment pleas'd Of Midas, who amidst the crowd approach'd. Now venerable Tmolus on the face Of Phoebus turn'd his eyes; and with him turn'd Th' attentive woods. Parnassian laurel bound His golden locks; deep dipt in Tyrian dye, His garment swept the ground; his left hand held The instrument with gems and ivory rich; The other grasp'd the bow: his posture shew'd The skilful master's art: lightly he touch'd The chords with thumb experienc'd. Justly charm'd With melody so sweet, Tmolus decreed The pipe of Pan to Phoebus' lute should yield.

Much did the judgment of the sacred hill, And much his sentence all delight, save one: For Midas blames him, and unjust declares The arbitration. Human shape no more The god permits his foolish ears to wear; But long extends them, and with hoary hairs Fills them within; and grants them power to move, From their foundation flexile. All beside Was man, one part felt his revenge alone; A slowly pacing asses ears he bears. His head, weigh'd heavy with his load of shame, He strove in purple turban to enfold; Thus his disgrace to hide. But when as wont His slave his hairs, unseemly lengthen'd, cropp'd, He saw the change; the tale he fear'd to tell, Of what he witness'd, though he anxious wish'd In public to proclaim it: yet to hold Sacred the trust surpass'd his power. He went Forth, and digg'd up the earth; with whispering voice There he imparted of his master's ears What he had seen; and murmur'd to the sod: But bury'd close the confidential words Beneath the turf again: then, all fill'd up, Silently he departed. From the spot Began a thick-grown tuft of trembling reeds To spring, which ripening with the year's full round, Betray'd their planter. By the light south wind When agitated, they the bury'd words Disclos'd, betraying what the monarch's ears. Latona's son, aveng'd, high Tmolus leaves, And cleaving liquid air, lights in the realm Laömedon commands: on the strait sea, Nephelian Hellé names, an altar stands Sacred to Panomphæan Jove, where seen Lofty Rhætæum rises to the left, Sigæum to the right. From thence he saw Laömedon, as first he toil'd to build The walls of infant Troy; with toil immense The undertaking in progression grew, And mighty sums he saw the work would ask. A mortal shape he takes; a mortal shape Clothes too the trident-bearing sire, who rules The swelling deep. The Phrygian monarch's walls They raise, a certain treasure for their toil Agreed on first. The work is finished. Base, The king disowns the compact, and his lies Perfidious, backs with perjury.--"Boast not "This treatment calmly borne," the ocean's god Exclaim'd; and o'er the sordid Trojan's shores Pour'd all his flood of billows; and transform'd The land to sheets of water; swept away The tiller's treasure; bury'd all the meads. Nor sated with this ruin, he demands The monarch's daughter should be given a prey To an huge monster of the main; whom, chain'd To the hard rock, Alcides' arm set free, And claim'd the boon his due; the promis'd steeds. Refus'd the prize his valorous deed deserv'd, He sack'd the walls of doubly-perjur'd Troy, Nor thence did Telamon, whose powerful arm The hero aided, unrewarded go; Hesioné was by Alcides given.

Peleus was famous for his goddess-spouse: Proud not more justly of his grandsire's fame, Than of his consort's father; numbers more Might boast them grandsons of imperial Jove; To him alone a goddess-bride belong'd. For aged Proteus had to Thetis said,-- "O, goddess of the waves, a child conceive! "Thou shalt be mother of a youth, whose deeds "Will far the bravest of his sire's transcend: "And mightier than his sire's shall be his name." Hence, lest the world than Jove a mightier god Should know, though Jove with amorous flames fierce burn'd, He shunn'd th' embraces of the watery dame: And bade his grandson Peleus to his hopes Succeed, and clasp the virgin in his arms.

Hæmonia's coast a bay possesses, curv'd Like a bent bow; whose arms enclosing stretch Far in the sea; where if more deep the waves An haven would be form'd: the waters spread Just o'er the sand. Firm is the level shore; Such as would ne'er the race retard, nor hold The print of feet; no seaweed there was spread. Nigh sprung a grove of myrtle, cover'd thick With double-teinted berries: in the midst A cave appear'd, by art or nature form'd; But art most plain was seen. Here, Thetis! oft, Plac'd unattir'd on thy rein'd dolphin's back, Thou didst delight to come. There, as thou laid'st In slumbers bound, did Peleus on thee seize. And when his most endearing prayers were spurn'd, Force he prepar'd; both arms around thy neck Close clasp'd. And then to thy accustom'd arts, Of often-varied-form, hadst thou not fled, He might have prosper'd in his daring hope. But now a bird thou wert; the bird he held: Now an huge tree; Peleus the tree grasp'd firm: A spotted tiger then thy third-chang'd shape; Frighted at that, Æäcides his hold Quit from her body. Then the ocean powers He worshipp'd, pouring wine upon the waves, And bleating victims slew, and incense burn'd: Till from the gulf profound the prophet spoke Of Carpathus. "O, Peleus! gain thou shalt "The wish'd-for nuptials; only when she rests "In the cool cavern sleeping, thou with cords "And fetters strong her, unsuspecting, bind; "Nor let an hundred shapes thy soul deceive; "Still hold her fast whatever form she wears, "Till in her pristine looks she shines again." This Proteus said, and plung'd his head beneath The waves, while scarce his final words were heard.

Prone down the west was Titan speeding now; And to th' Hesperian waves his car inclin'd, When the fair Nereïd from the wide deep came, And sought her 'custom'd couch. Scarce Peleus seiz'd Her virgin limbs, when straight a thousand forms She try'd, till fast she saw her members ty'd; And her arms fetter'd close in every part: Then sigh'd, and said; "thou conquerest by some god:" And the fair form of Thetis was display'd. The hero clasp'd her, and his wishes gain'd; And great Achilles straight the nymph conceiv'd.

Now blest was Peleus in his son and bride; And blest in all which can to man belong; Save in the crime of murder'd Phocus. Driven From his paternal home, of brother's blood Guilty, Trachinia's soil receiv'd him first. Here Ceÿx, Phosphor's offspring, who retain'd His father's splendor on his forehead, rul'd The land; which knew not bloodshed, knew not force. At that time gloomy, sad, himself unlike, He mourn'd a brother's loss. To him, fatigu'd With travel, and with care worn out, the son Of Æäcus arriv'd; and in the town Enter'd with followers few: the flocks and herds That journey'd with him, just without the walls, In a dark vale were left. When the first grant T'approach the monarch was obtain'd, he rais'd The olive in his suppliant hand; then told His name, and lineage, but his crime conceal'd. His cause of flight dissembling, next he beg'd, For him and his, some pastures and a town. Then thus Trachinia's king with friendly brow: "To all, the very meanest of mankind, "Are our possessions free; nor do I rule "A realm inhospitable: add to these "Inducements strong, thine own illustrious name, "And grandsire Jove. In praying lose not time. "Whate'er thou wouldst, thou shalt receive; and all, "Such as it is, with me most freely share; "Would it were better." Speaking thus, he wept: His cause of grief to Peleus and his friends, Anxious enquiring, then the monarch told.

"Perchance this bird, which by fierce rapine lives, "Dread of the feather'd tribe, you think still wings "Possess'd. Once man, he bore a noble soul; "Though stern, and rough in war, and fond of blood. "His name Dædalion: from the sire produc'd "Who calls Aurora forth, and last of stars "Relinquishes the sky. Peace my delight; "Peace to preserve was still my care: my joys "I shar'd in Hymen's bonds. Fierce wars alone, "My brother pleas'd. His valor then o'erthrew "Monarchs and nations, who, in alter'd form, "Drives now Thisbæan pigeons through the air. "His daughter Chioné, in beauty rich, "For marriage ripe, now fourteen years had seen; "And numerous suitors with her charms were fir'd. "It chanc'd that Phoebus once, and Maiä's son, "Returning from his favorite Delphos this, "That from Cyllené's top, together saw "The nymph,--together felt the amorous flame. "Apollo his warm hopes till night defers; "But Hermes brooks delay not: with his rod, "Compelling sleep, he strokes the virgin's face; "Beneath the potent touch she sinks, and yields "Without resistance to his amorous force. "Night spread o'er heaven the stars, when Phoebus took "A matron's form, and seiz'd fore-tasted joys. "When its full time the womb matur'd had seen, "Autolycus was born; the crafty seed "Of the wing'd-footed god; acute of thought "To every shade of theft; from his sire's art "Degenerate nought; white he was wont to make "Appear as black; and black from white produce. "Philammon, famous with the lyre and song, "Was born to Phoebus (twins the nymph brought forth). "But where the benefit that two she bears? "Where that the favorite of two gods she boasts? "What that a valiant sire she claims? and claims "As ancestor the mighty thundering god? "Is it that glory such as this still harms? "Certain it hurtful prov'd to her, who dar'd "Herself prefer to Dian', and despise "The goddess' beauty; fierce in ire she cry'd,-- "At least I'll try to make my actions please.-- "Nor stay'd; the bow she bent, and from the cord "Impell'd the dart; through her deserving tongue "The reed was sent. Mute straight that tongue became; "Nor sound, nor what she try'd to utter, heard: "Striving to speak, life flow'd with flowing blood. "What woe (O hapless piety!) oppress'd "My heart! What solace to her tender sire "I spoke; my solace just the same he heard, "As rocks hear murmuring waves. But still he moan'd "For his lost child; but when the flames he saw "Ascending, four times 'mid the funeral fires "He strove to plunge; four times from thence repuls'd, "His rapid limbs address'd for flight, and rush'd "Like a young bullock, when the hornet's sting "Deep in his neck he bears, in pathless ways. "Ev'n now more swift than man he seem'd to run: "His feet seem'd wings to wear, for all behind "He left far distant. Through desire of death, "Rapid he gain'd Parnassus' loftiest ridge. "Apollo, pitying, when Dædalion flung "From the high rock his body, to a bird "Transform'd him, and on sudden pinions bore "Him floating: bended hooks he gave his claws, "And gave a crooked beak; valor as wont; "And strength more great than such a body shews. "Now as an hawk, to every bird a foe, "He wages war on all; and griev'd himself, "He constant cause for others grief affords."

While these miraculous deeds bright Phosphor's sob Tells of his brother, Peleus' herdsman comes, Phocian Anetor, flying, and, with speed Breathless, "O Peleus! Peleus!" he exclaims, "Of horrid slaughter messenger I come!" Him Peleus bids, whate'er he brings, to speak; Trachinia's monarch even with friendly dread Trembles the news to hear. When thus the man: "The weary cattle to the curving shore "I'd driv'n, when Sol from loftiest heaven might view "His journey half perform'd, while half remain'd. "Part of the oxen on the yellow sand, "On their knees bending view'd the spacious plain "Of wide-spread waters; part with loitering pace "Stray'd here, and thither; others swam and rear'd "Their lofty necks above the waves. There stood "Close to the sea a temple, where nor gold, "Nor polish'd marble shone; but rear'd with trees "Thick-pil'd, it gloom'd within an ancient grove. "This, Nereus and the Nereïd nymphs possess. "A fisherman, as on the shore he dry'd "His nets, inform'd us these the temple own'd. "A marsh joins near the fane, with willows thick "Beset, which waves o'erflowing first has form'd. "A wolf from thence, a beast of monstrous bulk, "Thundering with mighty clash, with terror struck "The neighbouring spots: then from the marshy woods "Sprung out; his jaws terrific, smear'd with foam "And clotted gore; his eyes with red flames glar'd. "Mad though he rag'd with ire and famine both, "Famine less strong appear'd; for his dire maw "And craving hunger, he not car'd to fill "With the slain oxen; wounding all the herd: "All hostile overthrowing. Some of us, "Ranch'd by his deadly tooth, to death were sent "Defence attempting. The shore and marsh "With bellowings echoing, and the ocean's edge "Redden with blood. But ruinous, delay! "For hesitation leisure is not now. "While ought remains, let all together join; "Arm! arm! and on him hurl united spears." The herdsman ceas'd, Peleus the loss not mov'd; But conscious of his fault, infers the plague Sent by the childless Nereïd to avenge Her slaughter'd Phocus' loss. Yet Ceÿx bids His warriors arm, and take their forceful darts; With them prepar'd to issue: but his spouse Alcyöné, rous'd by the tumult, sprung Forth from her chamber; unadorn'd her locks, Which scatter'd hung around her. Ceÿx' neck Clasping, she begg'd with moving words and tears, Aid he would send, but go not; thus preserve Two lives in one. Then Peleus to the queen; "Banish your laudable and duteous fears. "For what the king intended, thanks are due. "Arms 'gainst this novel plague I will not take: "Prayers must the goddess of the deep appease."