All this Minerva heard; and she approvedtheir songs and their resentment; but her heartwas brooding thus, “It is an easy thingto praise another, I should do as they:no creature of the earth should ever slightthe majesty that dwells in me,—withoutjust retribution.”—So her thought was turnedupon the fortune of Arachne — proud,who would not ever yield to her the praisewon by the art of deftly weaving wool,a girl who had not fame for place of birth,nor fame for birth, but only fame for skill!For it was well known that her father dweltin Colophon; where, at his humble trade,he dyed in Phocean purples, fleecy wool.Her mother, also of the lower class,had died. Arachne in a mountain townby skill had grown so famous in the Landof Lydia, that unnumbered curious nymphseager to witness her dexterity,deserted the lush vineyards of Timolus;or even left the cool and flowing streamsof bright Pactolus, to admire the cloth,or to observe her deftly spinning wool.So graceful was her motion then,—if shewas twisting the coarse wool in little balls,or if she teased it with her finger-tips,or if she softened the fine fleece, drawn forthin misty films, or if she twirled the smoothround spindle with her energetic thumb,or if with needle she embroidered cloth;—in all her motions one might well perceivehow much Minerva had instructed her:but this she ever would deny, displeasedto share her fame; and said, “Let her contendin art with me; and if her skill prevails,I then will forfeit all!”Minerva heard,and came to her, disguised with long grey hair,and with a staff to steady her weak limbs.She seemed a feeble woman, very old,and quavered as she said, “Old age is notthe cause of every ill; experience comeswith lengthened years; and, therefore, you should notdespise my words. It is no harm in youto long for praise of mortals, whenyour nimble hands are spinning the soft wool,—but you should not deny Minerva's art—and you should pray that she may pardon you,for she will grant you pardon if you ask.”Arachne, scowling with an evil face.Looked at the goddess, as she dropped her thread.She hardly could restrain her threatening hand,and, trembling in her anger, she repliedto you, disguised Minerva:“Silly fool,—worn out and witless in your palsied age,a great age is your great misfortune!— Letyour daughter and your son's wife—if the Godshave blessed you—let them profit by your words;within myself, my knowledge is containedsufficient; you need not believe that youradvice does any good; for I am quiteunchanged in my opinion. Get you gone,—advise your goddess to come here herself,and not avoid the contest!”Instantly,the goddess said, “Minerva comes to you!”And with those brief words, put aside the shapeof the old woman, and revealed herself,Minerva, goddess.All the other Nymphsand matrons of Mygdonia worshiped her;but not Arachne, who defiant stood;—although at first she flushed up—then went pale—then blushed again, reluctant.—So, at first,the sky suffuses, as Aurora moves,and, quickly when the glorious sun comes up,pales into white.She even rushed uponher own destruction, for she would not givefrom her desire to gain the victory.Nor did the daughter of almighty Jovedecline: disdaining to delay with words,she hesitated not.And both, at once,selected their positions, stretched their webswith finest warp, and separated warp with sley.The woof was next inserted in the webby means of the sharp shuttles, whichtheir nimble fingers pushed along, so drawnwithin the warp, and so the teeth notched inthe moving sley might strike them.—Both, in haste,girded their garments to their breasts and movedtheir skilful arms, beguiling their fatiguein eager action.Myriad tints appearedbesides the Tyrian purple—royal dye,extracted in brass vessels.—As the bow,that spans new glory in the curving sky,its glittering rays reflected in the rain,spreads out a multitude of blended tints,in scintillating beauty to the sightof all who gaze upon it; — so the threads,inwoven, mingled in a thousand tints,harmonious and contrasting; shot with gold:and there, depicted in those shining webs,were shown the histories of ancient days:—Minerva worked the Athenian Hill of Mars,where ancient Cecrops built his citadel,and showed the old contention for the nameit should be given.—Twelve celestial Godssurrounded Jupiter, on lofty thrones;and all their features were so nicely drawn,that each could be distinguished.—Jupiterappeared as monarch of those judging Gods.There Neptune, guardian of the sea, was showncontending with Minerva. As he struckthe Rock with his long trident, a wild horsesprang forth which he bequeathed to man. He claimedhis right to name the city for that gift.And then she wove a portrait of herself,bearing a shield, and in her hand a lance,sharp-pointed, and a helmet on her head—her breast well-guarded by her Aegis: thereshe struck her spear into the fertile earth,from which a branch of olive seemed to sprout,pale with new clustered fruits.—And those twelve Gods,appeared to judge, that olive as a giftsurpassed the horse which Neptune gave to man.And, so Arachne, rival of her fame,might learn the folly of her mad attempt,from the great deeds of ancient histories,and what award presumption must expect,Minerva wove four corners with life scenesof contest, brightly colored, but of sizediminutive.
Praebuerat dictis Tritonia talibus aurescarminaque Aonidum iustamque probaverat iram.Tum secum “laudare parum est; laudemur et ipsaenumina nec sperni sine poena nostra sinamus”Maeoniaeque animum fatis intendit Arachnes,quam sibi lanificae non cedere laudibus artisaudierat. Non illa loco neque origine gentisclara, sed arte fuit. Pater huic Colophonius IdmonPhocaico bibulas tingebat murice lanas.Occiderat mater; sed et haec de plebe suoqueaequa viro fuerat. Lydas tamen illa per urbesquaesierat studio nomen memorabile, quamvisorta domo parva parvis habitabat Hypaepis.Huius ut adspicerent opus admirabile, saepedeseruere sui nymphae vineta Timoli,deseruere suas nymphae Pactolides undas.Nec factas solum vestes spectare iuvabat;tum quoque, cum fierent: tantus decor adfuit arti.Sive rudem primos lanam glomerabat in orbes,seu digitis subigebat opus repetitaque longovellera mollibat nebulas aequantia tractu,sive levi teretem versabat pollice fusum,seu pingebat acu, scires a Pallade doctam.Quod tamen ipsa negat, tantaque offensa magistra“certet” ait “mecum: nihil est, quod victa recusem.”Pallas anum simulat falsosque in tempora canosaddit et infirmos, baculo quos sustinet, artus.Tum sic orsa loqui: “Non omnia grandior aetas,quae fugiamus, habet: seris venit usus ab annis.Consilium ne sperne meum. Tibi fama petaturinter mortales faciendae maxima lanae:cede deae veniamque tuis, temeraria, dictissupplice voce roga: veniam dabit illa roganti.”Adspicit hanc torvis inceptaque fila relinquit,vixque manum retinens confessaque vultibus iramtalibus obscuram resecuta est Pallada dictis:“Mentis inops longaque venis confecta senecta.Et nimium vixisse diu nocet. Audiat istas,siqua tibi nurus est, siqua est tibi filia, voces.Consilii satis est in me mihi. Neve monendoprofecisse putes, eadem est sententia nobis.Cur non ipsa venit? cur haec certamina vitat?”Tum dea “venit” ait, formamque removit anilemPalladaque exhibuit. Venerantur numina nymphaeMygdonidesque nurus: sola est non territa virgo.Sed tamen erubuit, subitusque invita notavitora rubor rursusque evanuit, ut solet aerpurpureus fieri, cum primum aurora movetur,et breve post tempus candescere solis ab ortu.Perstat in incepto stolidaeque cupidine palmaein sua fata ruit: neque enim Iove nata recusat,nec monet ulterius, nec iam certamina differt.Haud mora, constituunt diversis partibus ambaeet gracili geminas intendunt stamine telas(tela iugo iuncta est, stamen secernit harundo);inseritur medium radiis subtemen acutis,quod digiti expediunt, atque inter stamina ductumpercusso paviunt insecti pectine dentes.Utraque festinant cinctaeque ad pectora vestesbracchia docta movent, studio fallente laborem.Illic et Tyrium quae purpura sensit aenumtexitur et tenues parvi discriminis umbrae,qualis ab imbre solet percussis solibus arcusinficere ingenti longum curvamine caelum:in quo diversi niteant cum mille colores,transitus ipse tamen spectantia lumina fallit;usque adeo quod tangit idem est, tamen ultima distant.Illic et lentum filis inmittitur aurumet vetus in tela deducitur argumentum.Cecropia Pallas scopulum Mavortis in arcepingit et antiquam de terrae nomine litem.Bis sex caelestes medio Iove sedibus altisaugusta gravitate sedent. Sua quemque deoruminscribit facies: Iovis est regalis imago.Stare deum pelagi longoque ferire tridenteaspera saxa facit, medioque e vulnere saxiexsiluisse fretum, quo pignore vindicet urbem;at sibi dat clipeum, dat acutae cuspidis hastam,dat galeam capiti, defenditur aegide pectus,percussamque sua simulat de cuspide terramedere cum bacis fetum canentis olivaemirarique deos: operis Victoria finis.Ut tamen exemplis intellegat aemula laudis,quod pretium speret pro tam furialibus ausis,quattuor in partes certamina quattuor addit,clara colore suo, brevibus distincta sigillis.
In one of these was shownthe snow-clad mountains, Rhodope,and Haemus, which for punishment were changedfrom human beings to those rigid forms,when they aspired to rival the high Gods.And in another corner she describedthat Pygmy, whom the angry Juno changedfrom queen-ship to a crane; because she thoughtherself an equal of the living Gods,she was commanded to wage cruel warsupon her former subjects. In the third,she wove the story of Antigone,who dared compare herself to Juno, queenof Jupiter, and showed her as she wastransformed into a silly chattering stork,that praised her beauty, with her ugly beak.—Despite the powers of Ilion and her sireLaomedon, her shoulders fledged white wings.And so, the third part finished, there was leftone corner, where Minerva deftly workedthe story of the father, Cinyras;—as he was weeping on the temple steps,which once had been his daughter's living limbs.And she adorned the border with designsof peaceful olive—her devoted tree—which having shown, she made an end of work.Arachne, of Maeonia, wove, at firstthe story of Europa, as the bulldeceived her, and so perfect was her art,it seemed a real bull in real waves.Europa seemed to look back towards the landwhich she had left; and call in her alarmto her companions—and as if she fearedthe touch of dashing waters, to draw upher timid feet, while she was sitting onthe bull's back.And she wove Asteria seizedby the assaulting eagle; and beneath the swan'swhite wings showed Leda lying by the stream:and showed Jove dancing as a Satyr, whenhe sought the beautiful Antiope,to whom was given twins; and how he seemedAmphitryon when he deceived Alcmena;and how he courted lovely Danaeluring her as a gleaming shower of gold;and poor Aegina, hidden in his flame,jove as a shepherd with Mnemosyne;and beautiful Proserpina, involvedby him, apparent as a spotted snake.And in her web, Arachne wove the scenesof Neptune:—who was shown first as a bull,when he was deep in love with virgin Arnethen as Enipeus when the giant twins,Aloidae, were begot; and as the ramthat gambolled with Bisaltis; as a horseloved by the fruitful Ceres, golden haired,all-bounteous mother of the yellow grain;and as the bird that hovered round snake-hairedMedusa, mother of the winged horse;and as the dolphin, sporting with the Nymph,Melantho.—All of these were woven trueto life, in proper shades.And there she showedApollo, when disguised in various forms:as when he seemed a rustic; and as whenhe wore hawk-wings, and then the tawny skinof a great lion; and once more when hedeluded Isse, as a shepherd lad.And there was Bacchus, when he was disguisedas a large cluster of fictitious grapes;deluding by that wile the beautifulErigone;—and Saturn, as a steed,begetter of the dual-natured Chiron.And then Arachne, to complete her work,wove all around the web a patterned edgeof interlacing flowers and ivy leaves.Minerva could not find a fleck or flaw—even Envy can not censure perfect art—enraged because Arachne had such skillshe ripped the web, and ruined all the scenesthat showed those wicked actions of the Gods;and with her boxwood shuttle in her hand,struck the unhappy mortal on her head,—struck sharply thrice, and even once again.Arachne's spirit, deigning not to brooksuch insult, brooded on it, till she tieda cord around her neck, and hung herself.Minerva, moved to pity at the sight,sustained and saved her from that bitter death;but, angry still, pronounced another doom:“Although I grant you life, most wicked one,your fate shall be to dangle on a cord,and your posterity forever shalltake your example, that your punishmentmay last forever!” Even as she spoke,before withdrawing from her victim's sight,she sprinkled her with juice—extract of herbsof Hecate.At once all hair fell off,her nose and ears remained not, and her headshrunk rapidly in size, as well as allher body, leaving her diminutive.—Her slender fingers gathered to her sidesas long thin legs; and all her other partswere fast absorbed in her abdomen—whenceshe vented a fine thread;—and ever since,Arachne, as a spider, weaves her web.
Threiciam Rhodopen habet angulus unus et Haemum(nunc gelidi montes, mortalia corpora quondam!),nomina summorum sibi qui tribuere deorum.Altera Pygmaeae fatum miserabile matrispars habet: hanc Iuno victam certamine iussitesse gruem populisque suis indicere bella.Pinxit et Antigonen ausam contendere quondamcum magni consorte Iovis, quam regia Iunoin volucrem vertit; nec profuit Ilion illiLaomedonve pater, sumptis quin candida pennisipsa sibi plaudat crepitante ciconia rostro.Qui superest solus, Cinyran habet angulus orbum;isque gradus templi, natarum membra suarum,amplectens saxoque iacens lacrimare videtur.Circuit extremas oleis pacalibus oras:is modus est, operisque sua facit arbore finem.Maeonis elusam designat imagine tauriEuropam: verum taurum, freta vera putares.Ipsa videbatur terras spectare relictaset comites clamare suas tactumque vereriadsilientis aquae timidasque reducere plantas.Fecit et Asterien aquila luctante teneri,fecit olorinis Ledam recubare sub alis;addidit, ut satyri celatus imagine pulchramIuppiter implerit gemino Nycteida fetu,Amphitryon fuerit, cum te, Tirynthia, cepit,aureus ut Danaen, Asopida luserit ignis,Mnemosynen pastor, varius Deoida serpens.Te quoque mutatum torvo, Neptune, iuvencovirgine in Aeolia posuit. Tu visus Enipeusgignis Aloidas, aries Bisaltida fallis;et te flava comas frugum mitissima matersensit equum, sensit volucrem crinita colubrismater equi volucris, sensit delphina Melantho.Omnibus his faciemque suam faciemque locorumreddidit. Est illic agrestis imagine Phoebus,utque modo accipitris pennas, modo terga leonisgesserit, ut pastor Macareida luserit Issen;Liber ut Erigonen falsa deceperit uva,ut Saturnus equo geminum Chirona crearit.Ultima pars telae, tenui circumdata limbo,nexilibus flores hederis habet intertextos.Non illud Pallas, non illud carpere Livorpossit opus. Doluit successu flava viragoet rupit pictas, caelestia crimina, vestes.Utque Cytoriaco radium de monte tenebat,ter quater Idmoniae frontem percussit Arachnes.Non tulit infelix laqueoque animosa ligavitguttura. Pendentem Pallas miserata levavitatque ita “vive quidem, pende tamen, improba” dixit:“lexque eadem poenae, ne sis secura futuri,dicta tuo generi serisque nepotibus esto.”Post ea discedens sucis Hecateidos herbaesparsit; et extemplo tristi medicamine tactaedefluxere comae, cum quis et naris et aures,fitque caput minimum, toto quoque corpore parva est:in latere exiles digiti pro cruribus haerent,cetera venter habet: de quo tamen illa remittitstamen et antiquas exercet aranea telas.
All Lydia was astonished at her fatethe Rumor spread to Phrygia, soon the worldwas filled with fear and wonder. Niobehad known her long before,—when in Maeonianear to Mount Sipylus; but the sad fatewhich overtook Arachne, lost on her,she never ceased her boasting and refusedto honor the great Gods.So many thingsincreased her pride: She loved to boasther husband's skill, their noble family,the rising grandeur of their kingdom. Suchfelicities were great delights to her;but nothing could exceed the haughty wayshe boasted of her children: and, in truth,Niobe might have been adjudged on earth,the happiest mother of mankind, if pridehad not destroyed her wit.It happened then,that Manto, daughter of Tiresias,who told the future; when she felt the fireof prophecy descend upon her, rushedupon the street and shouted in the midst:“You women of Ismenus! go and giveto high Latona and her children, twain,incense and prayer. Go, and with laurel wreatheyour hair in garlands, as your sacred prayersarise to heaven. Give heed, for by my speechLatona has ordained these holy rites.”At once, the Theban women wreathe their browswith laurel, and they cast in hallowed flamethe grateful incense, while they supplicateall favors of the ever-living Gods.And while they worship, Niobe comes there,surrounded with a troup that follow her,and most conspicuous in her purple robe,bright with inwoven threads of yellow gold.Beautiful in her anger, she tosses backher graceful head. The glory of her hairshines on her shoulders. Standing forth,she looks upon them with her haughty eyes,and taunts them, “Madness has prevailed on youto worship some imagined Gods of Heaven,which you have only heard of; but the Godsthat truly are on earth, and can be seen,are all neglected! Come, explain to me,why is Latona worshiped and adored,and frankincense not offered unto me?For my divinity is known to you.“Tantalus was my father, who aloneapproached the tables of the Gods in heaven;my mother, sister of the Pleiades,was daughter of huge Atlas, who supportsthe world upon his shoulders; I can boastof Jupiter as father of my sire,I count him also as my father-in-law.The peoples of my Phrygia dread my power,and I am mistress of the palace builtby Cadmus. By my husband, I am queenof those great walls that reared themselvesto the sweet music of his sounding lyre.We rule together all the people theyencompass and defend. And everywheremy gaze is turned, an evidence of wealthis witnessed.“In my features you can seethe beauty of a goddess, but abovethat majesty is all the glory dueto me, the mother of my seven sonsand daughters seven. And the time will comewhen by their marriage they will magnifythe circle of my power invincible.“All must acknowledge my just cause of prideand must no longer worship, in despiteof my superior birth, this deity,a daughter of ignoble Coeus, whomone time the great Earth would not even grantsufficient space for travail: whom the Heavens,the Land, the Sea together once compelledto wander, hopeless on all hostile shores!Throughout the world she found herself rebuffed,till Delos, sorry for the vagrant, said,‘Homeless you roam the lands, and I the seas!’And even her refuge always was adrift.“And there she bore two children, who, comparedwith mine, are but as one to seven. Whodenies my fortunate condition?—Whocan doubt my future?—I am surely safe.“The wealth of my abundance is too strongfor Fortune to assail me. Let her ragedespoil me of large substance; yet so muchwould still be mine, for I have risen abovethe blight of apprehension. But, supposea few of my fair children should be taken!Even so deprived, I could not be reducedto only two, as this Latona, who,might quite as well be childless.—Get you gonefrom this insensate sacrifice. Make haste!Cast off the wreathing laurels from your brows!”They plucked the garlands from their hair, and leftthe sacrifice, obedient to her will,although in gentle murmurs they adoredthe goddess Niobe had so defamed.Latona, furious when she heard the speech,flew swiftly to the utmost peak of Cynthus,and spoke to her two children in these words:“Behold your mother, proud of having bornesuch glorious children! I will yieldprestige before no goddess—save aloneimmortal Juno! I have been debased,and driven for all ages from my own—my altars, unto me devoted long,and so must languish through eternity,unless by you sustained. Nor is this all;.That daughter of Tantalus, bold Niobe,has added curses to her evil deeds,and with a tongue as wicked as her sire's,has raised her base-born children over mine.Has even called me childless! A sad fatemore surely should be hers! Oh, I entreat”—But Phoebus answered her, “No more complaintis necessary, for it only servesto hinder the swift sequel of her doom.”And with the same words Phoebe answered her.And having spoken, they descended throughthe shielding shadows of surrounding clouds,and hovered on the citadel of Cadmus.
Lydia tota fremit, Phrygiaeque per oppida factirumor it et magnum sermonibus occupat orbem.Ante suos Niobe thalamos cognoverat illam,tum cum Maeoniam virgo Sipylumque colebat;nec tamen admonita est poena popularis Arachnescedere caelitibus verbisque minoribus uti.Multa dabant animos: sed enim nec coniugis artesnec genus amborum magnique potentia regnisic placuere illi, quamvis ea cuncta placerent,ut sua progenies; et felicissima matrumdicta foret Niobe, si non sibi visa fuisset.Nam sata Tiresia venturi praescia Mantoper medias fuerat divino concita motuvaticinata vias: “Ismenides, ite frequenteset date Latonae Latonigenisque duobuscum prece tura pia lauroque innectite crinem.Ore meo Latona iubet.” Paretur, et omnesThebaides iussis sua tempora frondibus ornantturaque dant sanctis et verba precantia flammis.Ecce venit comitum Niobe celeberrima turba,vestibus intexto Phrygiis spectabilis auro,et, quantum ira sinit, formosa: movensque decorocum capite inmissos umerum per utrumque capillosconstitit; utque oculos circumtulit alta superbos,“quis furor, auditos” inquit “praeponere visiscaelestes? aut cur colitur Latona per aras,numen adhuc sine ture meum est? mihi Tantalus auctor,cui licuit soli superorum tangere mensas,Pleiadum soror est genetrix mea, maximus Atlasest avus, aetherium qui fert cervicibus axem;Iuppiter alter avus socero quoque glorior illo.Me gentes metuunt Phrygiae, me regia Cadmisub domina est, fidibusque mei commissa maritimoenia cum populis a meque viroque reguntur.In quamcumque domus adverti lumina partem,inmensae spectantur opes. Accedit eodemdigna dea facies. Huc natas adice septemet totidem iuvenes et mox generosque nurusque.Quaerite nunc, habeat quam nostra superbia causam,nescio quoque audete satam Titanida CoeoLatonam praeferre mihi, cui maxima quondamexiguam sedem pariturae terra negavit.Nec caelo nec humo nec aquis dea vestra recepta est:exsul erat mundi, donec miserata vagantem“hospita tu terris erras, ego” dixit “in undis”instabilemque locum Delos dedit. Illa duorumfacta parens: uteri pars haec est septima nostri.Sum felix: quis enim neget hoc? felixque manebo:hoc quoque quis dubitet? tutam me copia fecit,Maior sum, quam cui possit Fortuna nocere,multaque ut eripiat, multo mihi plura relinquet.Excessere metum mea iam bona. Fingite demihuic aliquid populo natorum posse meorum,non tamen ad numerum redigar spoliata duorum,Latonae turbam: qua quantum distat ab orba?Ite, satis, propere ite, sacri est laurumque capillisponite.” Deponunt et sacra infecta relinquunt,quodque licet tacito venerantur murmure numen.Indignata dea est summoque in vertice Cynthitalibus est dictis gemina cum prole locuta:“En ego vestra parens, vobis animosa creatis,et nisi Iunoni nulli cessura dearum,an dea sim dubitor perque omnia saecula cultisarceor, o nati, nisi vos succurritis, aris.Nec dolor hic solus: diro convicia factoTantalis adiecit vosque est postponere natisausa suis, et me, quod in ipsam reccidat, orbam,dixit et exhibuit linguam scelerata paternam.”Adiectura preces erat his Latona relatis:“desine!” Phoebus ait: “poenae mora longa querella est.”Dixit idem Phoebe: celerique per aera lapsucontigerant tecti Calmeida nubibus arcem.
There, far below them, was a level plainwhich swept around those walls; where trampling steeds,with horny hoofs, and multitudinous wheels,had beaten a wide track. And on the fieldthe older sons of Niobe on steedsemblazoned with bright dyes and harness richwith studded gold were circling.—One of these,Ismenus, first-born of his mother, whilecontrolling his fleet courser's foaming mouth,cried out, “Ah wretched me!” A shaft had piercedthe middle of his breast; and as the reinsdropped slowly on the rapid courser's neck,his drooping form fell forward to the ground.Not far from him, his brother, Sipylus,could hear the whistling of a fatal shaft,and in his fright urged on the plunging steed:as when the watchful pilot, sensibleof storms approaching, crowds on sail,hoping to catch a momentary breeze,so fled he, urging an impetuous flight;but, while he fled the shaft, unerring, flew;transfixed him with its quivering death; struck wherethe neck supports the head and the sharp pointprotruded from his throat. In his swift flight,as he was leaning forward, he was struck;and, rolling over the wild horse's neckpitched to the ground, and stained it with his blood.Unhappy Phaedimus, and Tantalus,(So named from his maternal grandsire) nowhad finished coursing on the track, and smooth.Shining with oil, were wrestling in the field;and while those brothers struggled—breast to breast—another arrow, hurtling from the sky,pierced them together, just as they were clinched.The mingled sound that issued from two throatswas like a single groan. Convulsed with pain,the wrestlers fell together on the ground,where, stricken with a double agony,rolling their eyeballs, they sobbed out their lives.Alphenor saw them die—beating his breastin agony—ran to lift in his armstheir lifeless bodies cold—while doing thishe fell upon them. Phoebus struck him so,piercing his midriff in a vital part,with fatal shot, which, when he pulled it forth,dragged with its barb a torn clot of his lung—his blood and life poured out upon the air.The youthful Damasicthon next was struck,not only once; an arrow pierced his legjust where the sinews of the thigh begin,and as he turned and stooped to pluck it out,another keen shaft shot into his neck,up to the fletching.—The blood drove it out,and spouted after it in crimson jets.Then, Ilioneus, last of seven sons,lifted his unavailing arms in prayer,and cried, “O Universal Deities,gods of eternal heaven, spare my life!”—Besought too late, Apollo of the Bow,could not prevail against the deadly shaft,already on its way: and yet his will,compellant, acted to retard its flight,so that it cut no deeper than his heart.The rumors of an awful tragedy,—the wailings of sad Niobe's loved friends,—the terror of her grieving relatives,—all gave some knowledge of her sudden loss:but so bewildered and enraged her mind,that she could hardly realize the Godshad privilege to dare against her might.Nor would she, till her lord, Amphion, thrusthis sword deep in his breast, by which his lifeand anguish both were ended in dark night.Alas, proud Niobe, once haughty queen!Proud Niobe who but so lately droveher people from Latona's altars, while,moving majestic through the midst, she hearstheir plaudits, now so bitterly debased,her meanest enemy may pity her!—She fell upon the bodies of her sons,and in a frenzy of maternal grief,kissed their unfeeling lips. Then unto Heavenwith arms accusing, railed upon her foe:“Glut your revenge! Latona, glut your rage!Yea, let my lamentations be your joy!Go—satiate your flinty heart with death!Are not my seven sons all dead? Am Inot waiting to be carried to my grave?—exult and triumph, my victorious foe!Victorious? Nay!—Much more remains to mein all my utmost sorrow, than to you,you gloater upon vengeance—Undismayed,I stand victorious in my Field of Woe!”no sooner had she spoken, than the cordtwanged from the ever-ready bow; and allwho heard the fatal sound, again were filledwith fear,—save Niobe, in misery bold,—defiant in misfortune.—Clothed in black,the sisters of the stricken brothers stood,with hair disheveled, by the funeral biers.And one while plucking from her brother's hearta shaft, swooned unto death, fell on her face—on her dear brother's corpse. Another girl,while she consoled her mother, suddenly,was stricken with an unseen, deadly wound;and doubled in convulsions, closed her lips,tight held them, till both breath and life were lost.Another, vainly rushed away from death—she met it, and pitched head-first to the ground;and still another died upon her corse,another vainly sought a secret death,and, then another slipped beyond's life's edge.So, altogether, six of seven died—each victim, strickened in a different way.One child remained. Then in a frenzy-fearthe mother, as she covered her with allher garments and her body, wailed—“Oh, leaveme this one child! the youngest of them all!My darling daughter—only leave me one!”But even while she was entreating for its life—the life was taken from her only child.Childless— she crouched beside her slaughtered sons,her lifeless daughters, and her husband's corpse.The breeze not even moved her fallen hair,a chill of marble spread upon her flesh,beneath her pale, set brows, her eyes moved not,her bitter tongue turned stiff in her hard jaws,her lovely veins congealed, and her stiff neckand rigid hands could neither bend nor move.—her limbs and body, all were changed to stone.Yet ever would she weep: and as her tearswere falling she was carried from the place,enveloped in a storm and mighty wind,far, to her native land, where fixed upona mountain summit she dissolves in tears,—and to this day the marble drips with tears.
Planus erat lateque patens prope moenia campus,adsiduis pulsatus equis, ubi turba rotarumduraque mollierat subiectas ungula glaebas.Pars ibi de septem genitis Amphione fortesconscendunt in equos Tyrioque rubentia sucoterga premunt auroque graves moderantur habenas.E quibus Ismenus, qui matri sarcina quondamprima suae fuerat, dum certum flectit in orbemquadrupedis cursus spumantiaque ora coercet,“ei mihi!” conclamat medioque in pectore fixatela gerit, frenisque manu moriente remissisin latus a dextro paulatim defluit armo.Proximus, audito sonitu per inane pharetrae,frena dabat Sipylus, veluti cum praescius imbrisnube fugit visa pendentiaque undique rectorcarbasa deducit, ne qua levis effluat aura.Frena tamen dantem non evitabile telumconsequitur; summaque tremens cervice sagittahaesit, et exstabat nudum de gutture ferrum.Ille, ut erat, pronus per crura admissa iubasquevolvitur et calido tellurem sanguine foedat.Phaedimus infelix et aviti nominis heresTantalus, ut solito finem imposuere labori,transierant ad opus nitidae iuvenale palaestrae;et iam contulerant arto luctantia nexupectora pectoribus, cum tento concita nervo,sicut erant iuncti, traiecit utrumque sagitta.Ingemuere simul, simul incurvata doloremembra solo posuere, simul suprema iacenteslumina versarunt, animam simul exhalarunt.Adspicit Alphenor laniataque pectora plangensadvolat, ut gelidos complexibus adlevet artus,inque pio cadit officio: nam Delius illiintima fatifero rupit praecordia ferro.Quod simul eductum est, pars est pulmonis in hamiseruta cumque anima cruor est effusus in auras.At non intonsum simplex Damasichthona vulnusadficit. Ictus erat qua crus esse incipit et quamollia nervosus facit internodia poples.Dumque manu temptat trahere exitiabile telum,altera per iugulum pennis tenus acta sagitta est.Expulit hanc sanguis, seque eiaculatus in altumemicat et longe terebrata prosilit aura.Ultimus Ilioneus non profectura precandobracchia sustulerat, “di” que “o communiter omnes,”dixerat ignarus non omnes esse rogandos“parcite.” Motus erat, cum iam revocabile telumnon fuit, arquitenens. Minimo tamen occidit illevulnere, non alte percusso corde sagitta.Fama mali populique dolor lacrimaeque suorumtam subitae matrem certam fecere ruinae,mirantem potuisse, irascentemque, quod ausihoc essent superi, quod tantum iuris haberent.Nam pater Amphion ferro per pectus adactofinierat moriens pariter cum luce dolorem.Heu quantum haec Niobe Niobe distabat ab illa,quae modo Latois populum submoverat ariset mediam tulerat gressus resupina per urbem,invidiosa suis, at nunc miseranda vel hosti.Corporibus gelidis incumbit et ordine nullooscula dispensat natos suprema per omnes.A quibus ad caelum liventia bracchia tollens“pascere, crudelis, nostro, Latona, dolore,pascere” ait “satiaque meo tua pectora luctu:efferor. Exsulta victrixque inimica triumpha.Cur autem victrix? miserae mihi plura supersunt,quam tibi felici: post tot quoque funera vinco.”Dixerat, et sonuit contento nervus ab arcu.Qui praeter Nioben unam conterruit omnes:illa malo est audax. Stabant cum vestibus atrisante toros fratrum demisso crine sorores.E quibus una trahens haerentia viscere telaimposito fratri moribunda relanguit ore:altera solari miseram conata parentemconticuit subito duplicataque vulnere tota est.Haec frustra fugiens collabitur, illa sororiinmoritur, latet haec, illam trepidare videres.Sexque datis leto diversaque vulnera passisultima restabat. Quam toto corpore mater,tota veste tegens “unam minimamque relinquede multis minimam posco” clamavit “et unam.”Dumque rogat, pro qua rogat, occidit. Orba reseditexanimes inter natos natasque virumque,deriguitque malis. Nullos movet aura capillos,in vultu color est sine sanguine, lumina maestisstant inmota genis, nihil est in imagine vivum.Ipsa quoque interius cum duro lingua palatocongelat, et venae desistunt posse moveri;nec flecti cervix nec bracchia reddere motusnec pes ire potest; intra quoque viscera saxum est.Flet tamen. Et validi circumdata turbine ventiin patriam rapta est. Ibi fixa cacumine montisliquitur, et lacrimas etiam nunc marmora manant.
All men and women, after this event,feared to incur Latona's fateful wrath,and worshiped with more zeal the Deity,mother of twins.—And, as it is the wayof men to talk of many other thingsafter a strong occurrence, they recalledwhat other deeds the goddess had performed;—and one of them recited this event:'Twas in the ancient days of long-ago,—some rustics, in the fertile fields of Lycia,heedless, insulted the goddess to their harm:—perhaps you've never heard of this event,because those country clowns were little known.The event was wonderful, but I can vouchthe truth of it. I visited the placeand I have seen the pool of water, wherehappened the miracle I now relate.My good old father, then advanced in years,incapable of travel, ordered meto fetch some cattle—thoroughbreds—from there,and had secured a Lycian for my guide,as I traversed the pastures, with the man,it chanced, I saw an ancient altar,—grimedwith sacrificial ashes—in the midstof a large pool, with sedge and reeds around,a-quiver in the breeze. And there my guidestood on the marge, and with an awe-struck voicebegan to whisper, “Be propitious, hearmy supplications, and forget not me!”And I, observing him, echoed the words,“Forget not me!” which, having done, I turnedto him and said, “Whose altar can this be?Perhaps a sacred altar of the Fauns,or of the Naiads, or a native God?”To which my guide replied, “Young man, such Godsmay not be worshiped at this altar. Shewhom once the royal Juno drove awayto wander a harsh world, alone permitsthis altar to be used: that goddess whomthe wandering Isle of Delos, at the timeit drifted as the foam, almost refuseda refuge.There Latona, as she leanedagainst a palm-tree—and against the treemost sacred to Minerva, brought forth twins,although their harsh step-mother, Juno, stroveto interfere.—And from the island forcedto fly by jealous Juno, on her breastshe bore her children, twin Divinities.At last, outwearied with the toil, and parchedwith thirst—long-wandering in those heated daysover the arid land of Lycia, wherewas bred the dire Chimaera— at the timeher parching breasts were drained, she saw this poolof crystal water, shimmering in the vale.Some countrymen were there to gather reeds,and useful osiers, and the bulrush, foundwith sedge in fenny pools. To them approachedLatona, and she knelt upon the mergeto cool her thirst, with some refreshing water.But those clowns forbade her and the goddess cried,as they so wickedly opposed her need:“Why do you so resist my bitter thirst?The use of water is the sacred rightof all mankind, for Nature has not madethe sun and air and water, for the soleestate of any creature; and to Herkind bounty I appeal, although of youI humbly beg the use of it. Not heredo I intend to bathe my wearied limbs.I only wish to quench an urgent thirst,for, even as I speak, my cracking lipsand mouth so parched, almost deny me words.A drink of water will be like a draughtof nectar, giving life; and I shall oweto you the bounty and my life renewed.—ah, let these tender infants, whose weak armsimplore you from my bosom, but inclineyour hearts to pity!” And just as she spoke,it chanced the children did stretch out their armsand who would not be touched to hear such words,as spoken by this goddess, and refuse?But still those clowns persisted in their wrongagainst the goddess; for they hindered her,and threatened with their foul, abusive tonguesto frighten her away—and, worse than all,they even muddied with their hands and feetthe clear pool; forcing the vile, slimy dregsup from the bottom, in a spiteful way,by jumping up and down.—Enraged at this,she felt no further thirst, nor would she deignto supplicate again; but, feeling allthe outraged majesty of her high state,she raised her hands to Heaven, and exclaimed,“Forever may you live in that mud-pool!”The curse as soon as uttered took effect,and every one of them began to swimbeneath the water, and to leap and plungedeep in the pool.—Now, up they raise their heads,now swim upon the surface, now they squatthemselves around the marshy margent, nowthey plump again down to the chilly deeps.And, ever and again, with croaking throats,indulge offensive strife upon the banks,or even under water, boom abuse.Their ugly voices cause their bloated necksto puff out; and their widened jaws are madestill wider in the venting of their spleen.Their backs, so closely fastened to their heads,make them appear as if their shrunken neckshave been cut off. Their backbones are dark green;white are their bellies, now their largest part.—Forever since that time, the foolish frogsmuddy their own pools, where they leap and dive.
Tum vero cuncti manifestam numinis iramfemina virque timent cultuque impensius omnesmagna gemelliparae venerantur numina divae,utque fit, a facto propiore priora renarrant.E quibus unus ait: “Lyciae quoque fertilis agrisnon impune deam veteres sprevere coloni.Res obscura quidem est ignobilitate virorum,mira tamen. Vidi praesens stagnumque locumqueprodigio notum. Nam me iam grandior aevoimpatiensque viae genitor deducere lectosiusserat inde boves gentisque illius euntiipse ducem dederat. Cum quo dum pascua lustro,ecce lacu medio sacrorum nigra favillaara vetus stabat tremulis circumdata cannis.Restitit et pavido “faveas mihi” murmure dixitdux meus; et simili “faveas” ego murmure dixi.Naiadum Faunine foret tamen ara rogabamindigenaeve dei, cum talia rettulit hospes:“Non hac, o iuvenis, montanum numen in ara est:illa suam vocat hanc, cui quondam regia coniunxorbem interdixit, quam vix erratica Delosorantem accepit, tum cum levis insula nabat.Illic incumbens cum Palladis arbore palmaeedidit invita geminos Latona noverca.Hinc quoque Iunonem fugisse puerpera ferturinque suo portasse sinu, duo numina, natos.Iamque Chimaeriferae, cum sol gravis ureret arva,finibus in Lyciae longo dea fessa laboresidereo siccata sitim conlegit ab aestu,uberaque ebiberant avidi lactantia nati.Forte lacum mediocris aquae prospexit in imisvallibus; agrestes illic fruticosa legebantvimina cum iuncis gratamque paludibus ulvam.Accessit positoque genu Titania terrampressit, ut hauriret gelidos potura liquores.Rustica turba vetat. Dea sic adfata vetantes:“Quid prohibetis aquis? usus communis aquarum est.Nec solem proprium natura nec aera fecitnec tenues undas: ad publica munera veni.Quae tamen ut detis, supplex peto. Non ego nostrosabluere hic artus lassataque membra parabam,sed relevare sitim. Caret os umore loquentiset fauces arent, vixque est via vocis in illis.Haustus aquae mihi nectar erit, vitamque fateboraccepisse simul: vitam dederitis in unda.Hi quoque vos moveant, qui nostro bracchia tenduntparva sinu:” et casu tendebant bracchia nati.Quem non blanda deae potuissent verba movere?Hi tamen orantem perstant prohibere minasque,ni procul abscedat, conviciaque insuper addunt.Nec satis est, ipsos etiam pedibusque manuqueturbavere lacus imoque e gurgite mollemhuc illuc limum saltu movere maligno.Distulit ira sitim: neque enim iam filia Coeisupplicat indignis nec dicere sustinet ultraverba minora dea, tollensque ad sidera palmas“aeternum stagno” dixit “vivatis in isto.”Eveniunt optata deae: iuvat esse sub undiset modo tota cava submergere membra palude,nunc proferre caput, summo modo gurgite nare,saepe super ripam stagni consistere, saepein gelidos resilire lacus. Sed nunc quoque turpeslitibus exercent linguas pulsoque pudore,quamvis sint sub aqua, sub aqua maledicere temptant.Vox quoque iam rauca est, inflataque colla tumescunt,ipsaque dilatant patulos convicia rictus.Terga caput tangunt, colla intercepta videntur,spina viret, venter, pars maxima corporis, albet,limosoque novae saliunt in gurgite ranae.””