The Metamorphoses Of Publius Ovidus Naso In English Blank Verse
Chapter 13
Now Philomel' Safely on board the painted vessel plac'd, The land far left, as with their laboring oars The surges move;--exulting Tereus, cry'd, "Victorious,--lo! my utmost wishes borne Safe with me."--Scarce his burning soul defers His hop'd-for joys. His eyes are never turn'd From the lov'd face. Thus Jove's protected bird Rapacious bears, with his sharp talons pierc'd, An hare defenceless to his lofty nest: No flight remains, the spoiler calmly views His prey. Now ended is their voyage, now Weary'd they quit their ship, and joyful touch Their native beach; and now the Thracian king Pandion's daughter to a lofty stall Conducts; by ancient trees the spot well screen'd. There he inclos'd the pale, the trembling maid, Of all things fearful, as with tears she press'd Her sister's face to see: his purpose dire Disclosing,--force the helpless maid o'ercame, Loudly exclaiming to her sire; and loud Her sister's help invoking, equal vain: But chief she begs celestial powers to aid. Trembling she lies; so seems a shuddering lamb Wounded, and from the hoary wolf's fierce jaws Just 'scap'd, not sure his safety yet he deems: So seems a dove, her plumes in blood deep-drench'd, With fear still shivering; still the hungry claws Dreading, that lately pierc'd her. Soon restor'd Her mental powers, while scatter'd hung the locks Rent in her anguish, high her arms she rais'd, Livid with blows, as those that mourn the dead; Exclaiming,--"O, barbarian! wretch supreme! "In cruelty and vice; whom not the charge "Parental, seal'd with pious tears could move; "A sister's charge entrusted: not her state, "Virgin defenceless; not the sacred vows, "Conjugal plighted. In confusion all "Commixt, by thee, adulteress here I lie, "Against my sister. Thou a double spouse, "To both. This scourge is sure to me not due. "Why, villain, not my hated life destroy? "Perfect in deeds atrocious; would my breath "Before the horrid act supprest had been: "Then had I guiltless sought the shades. But still "If powers celestial view this act; if sway "On earth they hold; if all not sinks with me, "Thy fate hence-forward from me dread; myself "Shall unabash'd, thy acts proclaim. If power "Is granted, when in public walks I roam: "If here in woods imprison'd, all the woods "Shall with my plaints resound; the conscious rocks "I'll move. May heaven me hear! and if in heaven "A god abides, me hear!"--Rous'd by her words, The fierce king's anger burns; no less his fear Than anger moves him: strongly spurr'd by each, His weapon from the pendent sheath he drew: Dragg'd by the hair, her limbs he forc'd to yield To fetters; twisting rough her arms behind. Glad Philomel' to him her throat presents, Death from the glittering sword expecting. Grasp'd In pincers, fierce her tongue he tore away; Griev'd, and indignant, as her father's name She strove to utter: trembling still appear'd The bloody root; trembling the tongue itself Murmur'd as on the gore-stain'd earth it lay: As leaps the serpent's sever'd tail, the tongue, Quivering in death, still to her feet advanc'd. This deed of horror done, 'tis said that oft (Incredible the fact) repeated force Upon her mangled form the wretch employ'd.
Now dares he, all those acts atrocious done, Return to Procné. Eager as he comes, For Philomel' she asks. False tears and groans He gives: the hapless nymph he feigns deceas'd: His tears convince. Now from her shoulders torn, Her robes with gold bright-glittering, sable vests Her limbs enfolded. High an empty tomb She rais'd, and pious obsequies perform'd To manes pretended: for her sister's fate She mourn'd, whose fate such mourning ill deserv'd.
Through twice six signs had Phoebus journey'd on, The year completing. What, alas! remains For Philomela? Guards prevent her flight. Of stone erected, high the massive walls Circle her round. Her lips so mute, refuse The deed to blazon. Keen the sense of grief Sharpens the soul:--in misery the mind Ingenious sparkles. Skillful she extends The Thracian web, and on the snow-white threads, In purple letters, weaves the dreadful tale. Complete, a servant with expressive signs, The present to the queen she bids to bear. To Procné was it borne, witless the slave Of what he carry'd. Savage Tereus' spouse The web unfolded; read the mournful tale Her hapless sister told, and wonderous! sate In silence; grief her rising words repress'd: Indignant, chok'd, her throat refus'd to breathe, The angry accents to her plaining tongue. To weep she waits not, in turmoil confus'd, Justice and flagrance undistinguished lie; Her mind sole bent for vengeance on her spouse.
Now was the time Sithonia's matrons wont, The rites triennial of the jovial god To tend. Those rites to conscious shade alone Confided. Rhodopé, the brazen sound Shrill tinkling, hears by night;--by night the queen The palace quits, attir'd as Bacchus' rites Demand; and weapon'd with the Bacchant arms. A vine her forehead girds; the nimble deer Clothes with his skin her sides; her shoulder bears A slender spear. Thus maddening, Procné seeks The woods in ire terrific, crowded round By all her followers: rack'd by inward pangs, The furious rant of Bacchus veils her woes. The lonely stable seen at length, she howls Aloud,--"Evoë, ho!"--and bursts the door; Drags thence her sister;--her thence dragg'd, invests I In Bacchanalian robes; her face inshrouds In ivy foliage; and astonish'd leads The trembling damsel o'er the palace steps. The horrid dome when Philomela saw, Perforce she enter'd; through her frame she shook; The blood her face deserted. Procné sought A spot retir'd, and from her features flung The sacred trappings, and her sister's face, Sorrowing and blushing, to the light unveil'd; Then ran to clasp her. She the sight not bore; Her eyes she rais'd not; her dejected brows Bent to the ground; thus by her sister seen, Encroacher on her bed. Her hands still spoke, When oaths she wish'd to utter, and to call Th' attesting gods, her foul disgrace by force To prove accomplish'd. Furious, Procné burns, Nor curbs her ire; her sister's streaming tears Reproving checks, and cries;--"no period now "For tears, we ask the sword! But if than sword "Vengeance more keen thou hop'st for, sister dear, "Behold me for most horrid deeds prepar'd. "Shall I with flaming torches blaze on high "His hall imperial, and the villain king "Heave in the conflagration? Shall I rend "As thine his tongue? or from his sockets tear, "His eye-balls? or what other member maim? "Or this, or instant send his guilty soul "Thro' thousand wounds to judgment? What thou speak'st "Be mighty. I for mightiest acts prepare. "To fix I hesitate." As Procné speaks, Lo! infant Itys to his mother runs; His sight her mind determines; cruel turn Her eyes, exclaiming;--"See, how like his sire's "Appear his features!"--More she spoke not, fixt Was straight her dread resolve: now fiercer burn'd Within her smother'd rage;--yet when the boy Approach'd, and round her neck his infant arms Threw, and his kisses printed on her lips, With bland caresses mingled, even the soul Of Procné melted. Mollify'd her rage, Tears hard constrain'd flow'd from unwilling eyes. Soon as the mother's feelings softening seem To melt in extreme fondness; Procné quits The sight, and to her sister's face reverts Again her visage; then on each in turn Full bent her view, she cries;--"Must one me melt "With blandish'd soothings? Must the other mute, "With tongue dismember'd stand? Must he exclaim "O, mother!--she, O, sister! never more? "To what a spouse, Pandion's daughter, see "Art thou, degenerate wife, conjoin'd! Thy sin "A spouse like Tereus to have us'd too well." More she delays not, infant Itys drags, Swift as the Indian tiger sweeps the fawn Through shady forests. Then the lofty dome, For rooms remote well search'd, in one arrives, Where she the infant pierces; 'twixt the breast And side the weapon enters, while his hands, Suppliant, his fate foreseeing, he extends, And,--"mother! O, my mother!"--loudly cries. Nor mov'd her countenance fell;--the single wound Was deadly. Philomela, with her steel The throat divided, and the quivering limbs Dissever'd, whilst of animation still Some glimmering sparks remain'd. Of these, they part In brazen cauldrons boil: part on the spit Crackling they turn: with gore the secret rooms Offensive float. Her unsuspecting spouse Procné to feast invites; delusive feigns Her country's customs,--where 'twas given, but one The husband should be nigh; all menial slaves Far distant. On his ancestorial seat High-lifted, Tereus sate, and feasted there: And in his bowels deep he there entomb'd Bowels his own. So blind are human souls,-- "Call Itys to the feast,"--he cries. No more Could Procné veil her savage joy;--full bent The slaughter to announce, she loud proclaim'd "Thou seek'st who with thee rests!"--Around he looks. Wondering where rests he. Philomela rush'd, Her tresses sprinkled with the ireful blood, As griev'd he, Itys calling loud, and flung, With savage fury Itys' gory head Full in his father's face; nor ever mourn'd Lost speech so much; her well-earn'd joy to show, More griev'd lost power. With outcry loud the king O'er-turn'd the table; from the Stygian vale, Invok'd the viper'd sisters: hard he strove To tear his bosom, and from thence disgorge The dire repast, the half-digested mass Of Itys' limbs. Now weeping, wild he mourns, Himself his offspring's tomb. Now fierce pursues Pandion's daughters with his unsheath'd sword. From him escaping, on light wings upborne Th' Athenians seem'd; light wings their limbs upbore! One sheltering in the woods: protecting roofs The other seeking; still the murderous deed, Mark'd on her breast remains; still on her plumes The teint of blood is seen. Rapid in rage And hope of vengeance, Tereus too is chang'd, And flits a bird; a plumy crest he bears, High on his head: the lengthen'd sword he bore, A beak enormous grows. A lapwing now With fierce-arm'd face he flies.
Untimely sought Pandion, when the mournful tale he heard, The Stygian shades, ere yet the lengthen'd date Of years commanded. Next th' Athenian realm Erechtheus rul'd, the sceptre dubious held By right or forceful arms. Proud could he boast Four sons;--and daughters four to him were given. Beauteous the maids; in beauty equal two: Of these Æölian Cephalus was bless'd With thee as spouse, O, Procris!--Tereus long, Boreas withstanding, with the power of Thrace, Long Orithyïa, by the god belov'd, Was lov'd in vain; while soft beseechings more And prayers, the power to strenuous force preferr'd. But now those soothings bland so vainly try'd, Fierce swol'n with rage, his most accustom'd feel (Too much that passion knows this wind) he cries;-- "Well I deserve it, all my proper arms "Relinquish'd: savage fierceness, strength, stern rage, "And threatening force. With humble softening prayers "Fool have I su'd; in each attempt have fail'd. "More apt to me is force! by force I drive "The lowering clouds before me: Ocean's waves "Forceful I turn; forceful the knotted oak "Root from its deep foundation; hard the frost "I bind; and beat the sounding earth with hail: "I when in open sky, for there our field "Lies in display, my blustering brethren meet, "Oppose such might, that midmost sky resounds "Echoing our forceful conflict; flashing flames "From the cleft bodies of the hollow clouds, "Elicited: I too, earth's secret womb "Fierce entering, in her deepest caverns strain "My strength, 'till trembling wide through all her frame, "The ghosts below are troubled. These the aid "My nuptial wish should seek; no longer pray "Erechtheus for my sire;--my sire by force, "The monarch shall be made."--So spoke the god, Or thus, or more in fury, as he shook His plumes, whose motion sweep'd through earth's extent, And made the wide main tremble. Lofty hills His dusty mantle covers; as the plains Rapid he brushes; shrouded deep in mist, In his dark wings the furious lover clasps His Orithyïa, trembling, pale with fear: Flying his flames were fann'd, and fiercer blaz'd. Nor check'd the ravisher his lofty flight, Till seen the town of Cicones, whose walls Receiv'd him. There th' Athenian nymph became The freezing monarch's bride: a mother there, A double birth she brought, whose shoulders bear The father's pinions; all their semblance else Their mother's. Not at first, 'tis said, appear'd The feathers: Calaïs and Zethes, boys Were yet unplum'd; when yet with ruddy hair, Their beards appear'd not. From each shoulder shot The feathers bird-like, at the self-same time, Their manly cheeks were thick with yellow down. Now when their youth matur'd to man appear'd, Through seas unplough'd before, they sought the fleece Splendid with glittering wool; with all the train Of Minyæ, in the first-built vessel borne.
*The Seventh Book.*
Expedition of the Argonauts. Jason obtains the golden fleece, by the assistance of Medea. Æson restored to youth by her magic powers. Murder of Pelias by his daughters. Medea's flight to Corinth. Murder of her rival and infants. Marriage with Ægeus. Adventures of Theseus. War with Minos. Plague in Ægina. Change of ants into Myrmidons. Cephalus and Procris.
THE *Seventh Book* OF THE METAMORPHOSES OF OVID.
Now in the Pagasæan vessel borne, Plough'd the wide sea the Argonauts, and saw The fate of Phineus; whose old age the curse Of hunger felt, and felt perpetual night. The youths from Boreas sprung, quick sped to flight The virgin-featur'd birds, his hapless face, Far distant. 'Neath great Jason's rule much toil They bore ere on the oozy banks they stay'd Of rapid Phasis. Here the king they seek; And here demand the golden fleece; and here An answer big with fearful labors learn The Grecian crew. Meantime the royal maid Burns with fierce fires: with reason struggling long, Still her hot flame to quench unable, cries Aloud Medea;--"vainly I oppose! "Some unknown god controls. Perhaps 'tis love! "If love 'tis not, no sentiment more near "To love can come. Why else my sire's commands "So harsh appear? But harsh in truth they are. "But why his failing dread? Why dread his death, "But barely seen? What cause such fear can give? "O, hapless maid! would from my virgin breast "Those flames to fling were given. If mine the power "More wisdom would I use. But me this force, "Before unknown, unwilling drags; this love "Persuades, oppos'd to reason: plain I see "The better track,--approve it most, yet swerv'd, "I tread the worse. Why, royal virgin, burn "Thus for a stranger guest? Why long'st thou thus, "A foreign partner in the marriage bed "To clasp? Thy country well can thee supply "What e'er thou lovest. In the gods' decree "His death or safety rests. Yet may he live! "Pray may'st thou for him sure,--love unconcern'd. "But what has Jason done? Savage, indeed! "Were those his youth, his birth, and brilliant deeds "Not touch'd: how savage too the soul must be "His beauty touch'd not, were there nought beside; "My bosom sure it moves. But were my aid "Deny'd, the furious bulls with flaming breath "His fate would compass; or the foes that spring "From earth, his harvest, slay him in the fight; "Or last, he'd fall the ravenous dragon's prey. "If this I suffer, from the tiger sprung "Believe me; steel and marble in my breast, "Deem me to wear. Why not his death behold? "Why not mine eyes with the dread sight pollute! "Why not the bulls, the earth-born foes incite, "And sleepless dragon, with redoubled ire? "Heaven wills it better. But let deeds, not prayers "My time employ. How! shall I then betray "My parent's realm? an unknown stranger aid "With all my power? who by my power preserv'd, "Loos'd to the wind his sails, another's spouse "Becomes,--me left for punishment behind? "If this to do,--another nymph to me "Born to prefer, let him, ingrate! be slain. "But no! his face denies it; his great soul, "And graceful form forbid the fear of fraud; "Or benefits forgot. Yet shall he plight "His solemn faith first, call th' attesting gods "To witness what he vows. What fear I more? "All's safe. Medea, hasten, spurn delay,-- "Jason, remaining life to thee shall owe; "Join'd to his state, the annual torch shall flame "To thee, preserver! through the Grecian towns "By crowds of mothers hail'd. Shall I for this "My sister leave, my brother, and my sire; "My gods, and natal land? Yes,--fierce my sire; "My country barbarous; and my brother young: "With all my wishes, warm my sister joins; "And dwells within my breast the mightiest god. "Much I relinquish not, but much I seek. "The glorious title of the Grecian youth "Deliverer! gain'd; the sight of lands and towns "Whose fame even here has journey'd; manners mild, "And cultur'd arts; and Jason for my spouse, "For whom all earth's possessions were too small "To change. His spouse become, supremely blest, "Dear to the gods, the loftiest stars I'll reach. "What are those rocks, they tell, which 'mid the waves "Meet in encounter? Fell Charybdis what,-- "Hostile to ships, now sucking in the tide, "Now fierce discharging? What the savage bounds, "Which compass greedy Scylla 'mid the main "Sicilian? O'er the wide-spread ocean borne, "Him whom I love embracing; sheltering close "In Jason's bosom; clasp'd by him, no fear "My soul could harbor. Or if fear I felt, "For him alone I'd tremble; for my spouse. "Spouse, dost thou say, Medea? hid'st thou thus, "With specious names thy crime? Behold the load "Of guilt thou goest to bear! While power remains "The sin avoid."--She said, and duty, shame, And rectitude, before her eyes appear'd; And vanquish'd love address'd his wings to flight. Now to an ancient altar Hecat' own'd, By shady trees dark veil'd from day, she came: Her flames abated, and her eager pulse Subsided. Here Æsonides she saw, And bright her love reblaz'd. Warm flush'd her cheeks, Deep all her visage glow'd. The smallest spark Thus low in embers hid, its vigor shews; Help'd by the feeding blast, increasing burns, And stirr'd in all its wonted fury glows. Just so the languid passion which but now All but extinct appear'd, the hero seen Fresh at his beauteous presence flam'd. By chance More beauteous Jason on that morn appear'd; Well might a lover all her love excuse. She looks, his countenance with her eyes devours As then first seen; and madly fond, she deems His features more than mortal: bashful turn'd Her forehead not from his. But when her guest Address'd her: when he gently took her hands; And crav'd assistance in an humble tone, The nuptial promise giving. Plenteous flow'd Her tears, exclaiming;--"What I should perform "Plainly I see: not ignorance me misleads "But love. My gifts shall aid you, you but keep "The promise pledg'd."--Sacred the hero swears By her, the tri-form'd goddess, whom that grove Acknowledges divine; and by the god, Whence sprung the sire-in-law he hopes to claim; The god who all beholds; by all his deeds Atchiev'd; and by his perils all he swears. His words believ'd, immediate he receives The magic plants, their use well taught, and seeks The roof rejoicing. Now the morn had driven The glimmering stars far distant, crowding press'd The people in the sacred field of Mars, The king himself amidst them, seated high, In purple clad, with ivory sceptre grac'd. Lo! come the brazen-footed bulls, who breathe Through nostrils fenc'd with adamant hot flames: Parch'd by their breath, the herbage blacken'd burns. Loud as the blazing forge's chimney roars; Or loud as lime in earthy furnace laid, Bursts into heat by watery sprinklings touch'd: So loud, within their flaming chests contain'd, The struggling fires loud bellow'd. Scorch'd their throats The sound transmitted. Boldly Æson's son March'd onward; fiercely as the youth approach'd, His foes dark lower'd, and bent their steel-tipt horns, Paw'd with their clefted hoofs the dusty ground, And fill'd with smoky bellowings all the air. Pale grew each Grecian face; advancing on The fiery blasts he feels not, such the power The mighty charms possess, but boldly strokes Their dewlaps pendulous, and to the yoke Subjected, makes them drag the ponderous plough; And with the iron cut th' uncustom'd soil. The Colchians wondering gaze; the Grecians loud Applaud, and with fresh courage fill his soul. Then from his brazen helmet pluck'd, he sows The serpent's teeth, deep in the furrow'd ground: The ground, the teeth with powerful venom ting'd, Soften'd and swell'd them, and a novel shape Imparted. Thus within the parent's womb, An human shape the infant mass receives, Completed perfect in the dark recess; Nor till mature, to air external given. So when the manly forms were perfect made Within earth's pregnant bowels, up they sprung Thick in the fruitful field; more wonderous still Their arms they clash'd when born. Then when the Greeks Their keenly-pointed spears preparing saw To hurl at Jason's head, low sunk their souls, And pallid grew their cheeks; Medea ev'n, Whose art insur'd his safety, trembling fear'd, When single she the youth beheld assail'd By foes in hosts; bloodless her face became, And tremor seiz'd her limbs: then lest the herbs Presented first, should fail in power, she sings An helping magic song, and all her arts Latent, calls forth. Amidst the hostile crowd A mighty rock he flings; their martial rage From him diverted, on each other turns. By mutual wounds the earth-born brothers fall; In civil discord perish. Joy'd again The Grecians clasp the conqueror in their arms. Thou too, Medea, wish'd thine arms to fill With him victorious. (Shame at first repress'd Thy open fondness, though thou wast embrac'd) Now reputation awes thee, now prevents That bliss. What honor gives,--silent to joy, And pour glad thanks to all thy magic arts, And gods their authors, those thou dar'st indulge. Now sole remains by powerful herbs to lull The wakeful dragon, whose high-crested head A triple tongue contains, whose crooked fangs Dreadful the golden fleece protecting guards. Him when be sprinkled with the juices prest From plants Lethean; and repeated thrice, The words which placid sleep inspire; which still The ruffled ocean; and arrest the course Of rapid torrents; sleep before unknown Stole o'er his eyelids, and th' Æsonian youth Seiz'd on the golden prize. Proud with the spoil, (A second spoil possessing) she who gave The power to conquer, as his wife he bears, And lands triumphant on Thessalia's shores.