---
title: "Metamorphoses"
author: "Ovid"
translator: "Brookes More"
title_ru: "Метаморфозы"
author_ru: "Овидий"
languages: [la, en]
shelf: "Classical Latin"
section: 17 of 30
url: https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/17/
cite: "Ovid, tr. Brookes More, Metamorphoses, section 17. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/17/"
---

# Metamorphoses

*Ovid, tr. Brookes More*

Russian: Метаморфозы, Овидий

Bodies changed into new forms, from the creation of the world to the deification of Julius Caesar: Daphne, Narcissus, Pyramus and Thisbe, Icarus, Orpheus.

> Latin: ed. Hugo Magnus, from the Perseus Digital Library (canonical-latinLit, phi0959.phi006, CC BY-SA 4.0).

> English: Brookes More, from the Perseus Digital Library (phi0959.phi006.perseus-eng3). Notes are not included.

> Rows follow the references the two texts share (line numbers), cut where both reach the end of a sentence.

## 17. Book IX · lines 1–417

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/17/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/17/#p-N

[¶0] To him the hero, who proclaimed himself
a favored son of Neptune, answered now;
“Declare the reason of your heavy sighs,
and how your horn was broken?” And at once
the Calydonian River-God replied,
binding with reeds his unadorned rough locks:
“It is a mournful task you have required,
for who can wish to tell his own disgrace?
But truly I shall speak without disguise,
for my defeat, if rightly understood,
should be my glory.—Even to have fought
in battle with a hero of such might,
affords me consolation.
“Deianira
(you may have heard some tales of her) was once
the envied hope of many. She was then
a lovely virgin.—I, among the rest
who loved this maiden, entered the fair home
of her great father Oeneus, and I said;
“‘Consider all my claims, Parthaon's son,
for I am come to plead your daughter's cause
and mine—So you may make me son-in-law.,—’
no sooner was it said, than Hercules
in such words also claimed the virgin's hand:
all others quickly yielded to our claims.
“He boasted his descent from Jupiter;
the glory of his labors and great deeds
performed at his unjust stepmother's wish.
“But as he was not then a God, it seemed
disgraceful if my state should yield my right;
so I contended with these haughty words,
‘Why should this alien of a foreign land,
contending for your daughter, match himself
to me! king of the waters in this realm!
For as I wind around, across your lands,
I must be of your people, and a part
of your great state. Oh, let it not be said,
because the jealous Juno had no thought
to punish me by labors, my descent
is not so regal! This tremendous boast,
that you, Alcmena's son, are sprung from Jove,
falls at the touch of truth;—or it reveals
the shame of a weak mother, who so gained
your doubtful glory of descent from Heaven!
Prove your descent from Jupiter is false,
or else confess you are the son of shame!’
“But Hercules, unable to control
the flame of his great wrath, scowled as I spoke.
He briefly answered me, ‘My hand excels
my tongue; let me now overcome in fight,
and I may suffer your offence of words.’
“Full of unvented rage he rushed on me,
but firm I stood, ashamed to yield a foot—
I had so largely boasted, no retreat was left,
and so I doffed my green robe—Striking guard,
with clenched hands doubled at my breast,
I stood my ground. He scooped up in his hand
fine, yellow dust; and tossed it on the air
so that the tawny powder sprinkled us;
quick-shifting then he sought to strike my neck,
or feint at my quick-moving legs, and turn
swift moving to attack me at all points.
But as a huge cliff in the sea remains
unmoved, unshaken by the sounding waves,
so my great size, against his vain attacks,
defended me securely—Back we went;
retiring for a space; then rushed again
together, furious, and with foot to foot,
determined not to yield, defiant stood,
till, forward-bending from my waist and hips,
I pressed my forehead against his and locked
his fingers into mine: so, have I seen
two strong bulls rush in combat for the good
of some smooth heifer in the pasture—while
the herd a-tremble and uncertain, wait;
ready to give allegiance to the one
most worthy of dominion.
“Thrice in vain
Hercules strove to push my breast from his,
but I pressed ever closer—till, the fourth
attempt succeeding, he unloosed my grip,
and breaking from my circling arms drew back,
and struck me such a buffet with his hand,
it twisted me about, and instantly
he clung with all his weight upon my back—
“Believe me I have not suppressed the truth.
Nor shall I try to gain applause not due:
I seemed to bear a mountain on my back. —
straining and dripping sweat, I broke his hold,—
with great exertion I unlocked his grip.
He pressed upon me, as I strained for breath,
preventing a renewal of my strength,
and seized upon my neck. Then at the last,
my bent knee went down on the gritty earth,
I bit the sand. So, worsted in my strength,
I sought diversion by an artifice,
and changed me to a serpent.—I then slipped
from his tight clutches my great length, and coiled
my body now transformed to snaky folds—
hissing I darted my divided tongue.
“But Hercules, Alcides, only laughed
and in derision of my scheming, said,
‘It was the pastime of my cradle days
to strangle better snakes than you—and though
your great length may excel all of your kind,
how small a part of that Lernaean snake
would you—one serpent be? It grew from wounds
I gave (at first it had one hundred heads)
and every time I severed one head from
its neck two grew there in the place of one,
by which its strength increased. This creature then
outbranching with strong serpents, sprung from death
and thriving on destruction, I destroyed.—
What do you think will then become of you,
disguised so in deceitful serpent-form,
wielding a borrowed weapon not your own
“And after he had ridiculed me thus,
he gouged his fingers underneath my jaws,
so that my throat was tortured, as if squeezed
with forceps, while I struggled in his grip.
“Twice was I vanquished, there remained to me
a third form so again I changed to seem
a savage bull, and with my limbs renewed
in that form fought once more. He threw his arms
about the left side of my ponderous neck,
and dragging on me followed as I ran.
He seized on my hard horns, and, tugging turned
and twisted me, until he fastened them
firm in the surface of the earth; and pushed
me, helpless, to the shifting sand beneath.
Not yet content he laid his fierce right hand
on my tough horn, and broke and tore it from
my mutilated head.—This horn, now heaped
with fruits delicious and sweet-smelling flowers,
the Naiads have held sacred from that hour,
devoted to the bounteous goddess Plenty.’
All this the River-god said; then a nymph,
a lovely nymph like fair Diana dressed,
whose locks were flowing down on either side,
came graceful to the board, and brought to them
of Autumn's plenty in an ample horn,
and gave to them selected apples for
a second course.
And now, as early dawn
appeared, and as the rising sunlight flashed
on golden summits of surrounding hills,
the young men waited not until the stream
subsiding, had resumed its peaceful way,
but all arose, reluctant, and went forth.
Then Achelous, in his moving waves,
hid his fine rustic features and his head,
scarred by the wound which gave the Horn of Plenty.

> Latin: Quae gemitus truncaeque deo Neptunius heros
causa rogat frontis, cum sic Calydonius amnis
coepit inornatos redimitus harundine crines:
“Triste petis munus. Quis enim sua proelia victus
commemorare velit? Referam tamen ordine. Nec tam
turpe fuit vinci, quam contendisse decorum est,
magnaque dat nobis tantus solacia victor.
Nomine siqua suo fando pervenit ad aures
Deianira tuas—quondam pulcherrima virgo
multorumque fuit spes invidiosa procorum.
Cum quibus ut soceri domus est intrata petiti,
“accipe me generum,” dixi “Parthaone nate:”
dixit et Alcides. Alii cessere duobus.
Ille Iovem socerum dare se famamque laborum
et superata suae referebat iussa novercae.
Contra ego “turpe deum mortali cedere” dixi
(nondum erat ille deus), “regem me cernis aquarum
cursibus obliquis inter tua regna fluentum.
Nec gener externis hospes tibi missus ab oris,
sed popularis ero et rerum pars una tuarum.
Tantum ne noceat, quod me nec regia Iuno
odit et omnis abest iussorum poena laborum.
Nam, quo te iactas, Alcmena nate, creatum,
Iuppiter aut falsus pater est, aut crimine verus.
Matris adulterio patrem petis. Elige, fictum
esse Iovem malis, an te per dedecus ortum.”
Talia dicentem iamdudum lumine torvo
spectat et accensae non fortiter imperat irae
verbaque tot reddit: “Melior mihi dextera lingua.
Dummodo pugnando superem, tu vince loquendo,”
congrediturque ferox. Puduit modo magna locutum
cedere: reieci viridem de corpore vestem
bracchiaque opposui tenuique a pectore varas
in statione manus et pugnae membra paravi.
Ille cavis hausto spargit me pulvere palmis
inque vicem fulvae tactu flavescit harenae.
Et modo cervicem, modo crura micantia captat,
aut captare putes, omnique a parte lacessit.
Me mea defendit gravitas frustraque petebar,
haud secus ac moles, quam magno murmure fluctus
oppugnant: manet illa suoque est pondere tuta.
Digredimur paulum rursusque ad bella coimus,
inque gradu stetimus, certi non cedere; eratque
cum pede pes iunctus, totoque ego pectore pronus
et digitos digitis et frontem fronte premebam.
Non aliter vidi fortes concurrere tauros,
cum pretium pugnae toto nitidissima saltu
expetitur coniunx: spectant armenta paventque
nescia, quem maneat tanti victoria regni.
Ter sine profectu voluit nitentia contra
reicere Alcides a se mea pectora; quarto
excutit amplexus adductaque bracchia solvit,
inpulsumque manu (certum est mihi vera fateri)
protinus avertit tergoque onerosus inhaesit.
Siqua fides neque ficta mihi nunc gloria voce
quaeritur, inposito pressus mihi monte videbar.
Vix tamen inserui sudore fluentia multo
bracchia, vix solvi duros a corpore nexus:
instat anhelanti prohibetque resumere vires,
et cervice mea potitur. Tum denique tellus
pressa genu nostro est, et harenas ore momordi.
Inferior virtute meas divertor ad artes,
elaborque viro longum formatus in anguem.
Qui postquam flexos sinuavi corpus in orbes
cumque fero movi linguam stridore bisulcam,
risit et inludens nostras Tirynthius artes
“cunarum labor est angues superare mearum,”
dixit “et ut vincas alios, Acheloe, dracones,
pars quota Lernaeae serpens eris unus echidnae?
Vulneribus fecunda suis erat illa, nec ullum
de centum numero caput est inpune recisum,
quin gemino cervix herede valentior esset.
Hanc ego ramosam natis e caede colubris
crescentemque malo domui domitamque reclusi.
Quid fore te credas, falsum qui versus in anguem
arma aliena moves, quem forma precaria celat?”
Dixerat, et summo digitorum vincula collo
inicit: angebar ceu guttura forcipe pressus,
pollicibusque meas pugnabam evellere fauces.
Sic quoque devicto restabat tertia tauri
forma trucis: tauro mutatus membra rebello.
Induit ille toris a laeva parte lacertos,
admissumque trahens sequitur depressaque dura
cornua figit humo meque alta sternit harena.
Nec satis hoc fuerat: rigidum fera dextera cornu
dum tenet, infregit truncaque a fronte revellit.
Naides hoc, pomis et odoro flore repletum,
sacrarunt, divesque meo Bona Copia cornu est.”
Dixerat, et nymphe ritu succincta Dianae,
una ministrarum, fusis utrimque capillis,
incessit totumque tulit praedivite cornu
autumnum et mensas, felicia poma, secundas.
Lux subit, et primo feriente cacumina sole
discedunt iuvenes: neque enim dum flumina pacem
et placidos habeant lapsus totaeque residant,
opperiuntur, aquae. Vultus Achelous agrestes
et lacerum cornu mediis caput abdidit undis.

[¶1] Loss of his horn had greatly humbled him,
it was so cherished though his only loss, —
but he could hide the sad disgrace with reeds
and willow boughs entwined about his head.
O, Nessus! your fierce passion for the same
maid utterly destroyed even you, pierced through
the body by a flying arrow-point.
Returning to the city of his birth
great Hercules, the son of Jupiter,
with his new bride, arrived upon the bank
of swift Evenus—after winter rains
had swollen it so far beyond its wont,
that, full of eddies, it was found to be
impassable. The hero stood there, brave
but anxious for his bride. Nessus, the centaur,
strong-limbed and well-acquainted with those fords,
came up to him and said, “Plunge in the flood
and swim with unimpeded strength—for with
my help she will land safely over there.”
And so the hero, with no thought of doubt,
trusted the damsel to the centaur's care,
though she was pale and trembling with her fear
of the swift river and the centaur's aid.
This done, the hero, burdened as he was
with quiver and the lion skin (for he
had tossed his club and curving bow across
the river to the other bank), declared,
“Since I have undertaken it, at once
this rushing water must be overcome.”
And instantly, he plunged in without thought
of where he might cross with most ease, for so
he scorned to take advantage of smooth water.
And after he had gained the other bank,
while picking up his bow which there was thrown,
he heard his wife's voice, anxious for his help.
He called to Nessus who was in the act
then to betray his trust: “Vain confidence!
You are not swift enough, vile ravisher!
You two-formed monster Nessus, I warn you!
Hear me, and never dare to come between
me and my love. If fear has no restraint,
your father's dreadful fate on whirling wheel,
should frighten you from this outrageous act:
for you cannot escape, although you trust
the fleet-foot effort of a rapid horse.
I cannot overtake you with my feet
but I can shoot and halt you with a wound.”
his deed sustained the final warning word.
He shot an arrow through the centaur's back,
so that the keen barb was exposed beyond
his bleeding breast. He tore it from both wounds,
and life-blood spurted instantly, mixed with
the deadly poison of Lernaean hydra.
This Nessus caught, and muttering, “I shall not
die unavenged”, he gave his tunic, soaked
with blood to Deianira as a gift;
and said, “Keep this to strengthen waning love.”
Now many years passed by, and all the deeds,
and labors of the mighty Hercules,
gave to the wide world his unequalled fame;
and finally appeased the hatred of
his fierce stepmother.
All victorious
returning from Oechalia, he prepared
to offer sacrifice, when at Cenaeum,
upon an altar he had built to Jupiter,
but tattling Rumor, swollen out of truth
from small beginning to a wicked lie,
declared brave Hercules, Amphitryon's son,
was burning for the love of Iole.
And Deianira—his fond wife—convinced
herself, the wicked rumor must be true.
Alarmed at the report of his new love,
at first, poor wife, she was dissolved in tears,
and then she sank in grievous misery.
But soon in angry mood, she rose and said:
“Why should I give up to my sorrow while
I drown my wretched spirit in weak tears?
Let me consider an effectual check—
while it is possible—even before
she comes, invader of my lawful bed:
shall I be silent or complain of it?
Must I go back to Calydon or stay?
Shall I depart unbidden, from my house?
Or, if no other method can prevail,
shall I oppose my rival's first approach?
O shade of Meleager, let me prove
I am yet worthy to be called your sister;
and in the desperate slaughter of this rival,
the world, astonished, may be taught to fear
the vengeance of an injured woman's rage.”
So, torn by many moods, at last her mind
fixed on one thought:—she might still keep his love,
could certainly restore it, if she sent
to him the tunic soaked in Nessus' blood.
Unknowingly, she gave the fatal cause
of her own woe to trusting Lichas, whom
she urged in gentle words to take the gift,
from her to her loved husband Hercules.
He, unsuspecting, put the tunic on,
all covered with Lernaean hydra's poison.
The hero then was casting frankincense
into the sacred flames, and pouring wine
on marble altars, as his holy prayers
were floating to the Gods. The hallowed heat
striking upon his poisoned vesture, caused
Echidna-bane to melt into his flesh.
As long as he was able he withstood
the torture. His great fortitude was strong.
But when at last his anguish overcame
even his endurance, he filled all the wild
of Oeta with his cries: he overturned
those hallowed altars, then in frenzied haste
he strove to pull the tunic from his back.
The poisoned garment, cleaving to him, ripped
his skin, heat-shriveled, from his burning flesh.
Or, tightening on him, as his great strength pulled,
stripped with it the great muscles from his limbs,
leaving his huge bones bare.
Even his blood
audibly hissed, as red-hot blades when they
are plunged in water, so the burning bane
boiled in his veins. Great perspiration streamed
from his dissolving body, as the heat
consumed his entrails; and his sinews cracked,
brittle when burnt. The marrow in his bones
dissolved, as it absorbed the venom-heat.

> Latin: Hunc tamen ablati domuit iactura decoris,
cetera sospes habet; capitis quoque fronde saligna
aut super inposita celatur harundine damnum.
At te, Nesse ferox, eiusdem virginis ardor
perdiderat volucri traiectum terga sagitta.
Namque nova repetens patrios cum coniuge muros
venerat Eueni rapidas Iove natus ad undas.
Uberior solito, nimbis hiemalibus auctus
verticibusque frequens erat atque inpervius amnis.
Intrepidum pro se, curam de coniuge agentem
Nessus adit, membrisque valens scitusque vadorum,
“officio” que “meo ripa sistetur in illa
haec,” ait “Alcide. Tu viribus utere nando!”
pallentemque metu fluviumque ipsumque timentem
tradidit Aonius pavidam Calydonida Nesso.
Mox, ut erat, pharetraque gravis spolioque leonis
(nam clavam et curvos trans ripam miserat arcus),
“quandoquidem coepi, superentur flumina!” dixit,
nec dubitat nec, qua sit clementissimus amnis,
quaerit et obsequio deferri spernit aquarum.
Iamque tenens ripam, missos cum tolleret arcus,
coniugis agnovit vocem: Nessoque paranti
fallere depositum “quo te fiducia” clamat
“vana pedum, violente, rapit? Tibi, Nesse biformis,
dicimus. Exaudi nec res intercipe nostras!
Si te nulla mei reverentia movit, at orbes
concubitus vetitos poterant inhibere paterni.
Haud tamen effugies, quamvis ope fidis equina:
vulnere, non pedibus te consequar.” Ultima dicta
res probat, et missa fugientia terga sagitta
traicit: exstabat ferrum de pectore aduncum.
Quod simul evulsum est, sanguis per utrumque foramen
emicuit mixtus Lernaei tabe veneni.
Excipit hunc Nessus “neque enim moriemur inulti”
secum ait et calido velamina tincta cruore
dat munus raptae velut inritamen amoris.
Longa fuit medii mora temporis, actaque magni
Herculis inplerant terras odiumque novercae.
Victor ab Oechalia Cenaeo sacra parabat
vota Iovi, cum Fama loquax praecessit ad aures,
Deianira, tuas, quae veris addere falsa
gaudet et e minimo sua per mendacia crescit,
Amphitryoniaden Ioles ardore teneri.
Credit amans, venerisque novae perterrita fama
indulsit primo lacrimis flendoque dolorem
diffudit miseranda suum; mox deinde “quid autem
flemus?” ait “paelex lacrimis laetabitur istis.
Quae quoniam adveniet, properandum aliquidque novandum est,
dum licet et nondum thalamos tenet altera nostros.
Conquerar an sileam? Repetam Calydona morerne?
Excedam tectis an, si nihil amplius, obstem?
Quid si me, Meleagre, tuam memor esse sororem
forte paro facinus, quantumque iniuria possit
femineusque dolor, iugulata paelice testor?”
In cursus animus varios abit: omnibus illis
praetulit inbutam Nesseo sanguine vestem
mittere, quae vires defecto reddat amori.
Ignaroque Lichae, quid tradat, nescia, luctus
ipsa suos tradit blandisque (miserrima!) verbis,
dona det illa viro, mandat. Capit inscius heros
induiturque umeris Lernaeae virus echidnae.
Tura dabat primis et verba precantia flammis
vinaque marmoreas patera fundebat in aras:
incaluit vis illa mali resolutaque flammis
Herculeos abiit late dilapsa per artus.
Dum potuit, solita gemitum virtute repressit;
victa malis postquam est patientia, reppulit aras
inplevitque suis nemorosam vocibus Oeten.
Nec mora, letiferam conatur scindere vestem:
qua trahitur, trahit illa cutem, foedumque relatu,
aut haeret membris frustra temptata revelli,
aut laceros artus et grandia detegit ossa.
Ipse cruor, gelido ceu quondam lamina candens
tincta lacu, stridit coquiturque ardente veneno.

[¶2] There was no limit to his misery;
raising both hands up towards the stars of heaven,
he cried, “Come Juno, feast upon my death;
feast on me, cruel one, look down from your
exalted seat; behold my dreadful end
and glut your savage heart! Oh, if I may
deserve some pity from my enemy,
from you I mean, this hateful life of mine
take from me—sick with cruel suffering
and only born for toil. The loss of life
will be a boon to me, and surely is
a fitting boon, such as stepmothers give!
“Was it for this I slew Busiris, who
defiled his temples with the strangers' blood?
For this I took his mother's strength from fierce
antaeus—that I did not show a fear
before the Spanish shepherd's triple form?
Nor did I fear the monstrous triple form
of Cerberus.—And is it possible
my hands once seized and broke the strong bull's horns?
And Elis knows their labor, and the waves
of Stymphalus, and the Parthenian woods.
For this the prowess of these hands secured
the Amazonian girdle wrought of gold;
and did my strong arms, gather all in vain
the fruit when guarded by the dragon's eyes.
The centaurs could not foil me, nor the boar
that ravaged in Arcadian fruitful fields.
Was it for this the hydra could not gain
double the strength from strength as it was lost?
And when I saw the steeds of Thrace, so fat
with human blood, and their vile mangers heaped
with mangled bodies, in a righteous rage
I threw them to the ground, and slaughtered them,
together with their master! In a cave
I crushed the Nemean monster with these arms;
and my strong neck upheld the wide-spread sky!
And even the cruel Juno, wife of Jove—
is weary of imposing heavy toils,
but I am not subdued performing them.
“A new calamity now crushes me,
which not my strength, nor valor, nor the use
of weapons can resist. Devouring flames
have preyed upon my limbs, and blasting heat
now shrivels the burnt tissue of my frame.
But still Eurystheus is alive and well!
And there are those who yet believe in Gods!”
Just as a wild bull, in whose body spears
are rankling, while the frightened hunter flies
away for safety, so the hero ranged
over sky-piercing Oeta; his huge groans,
his awful shrieks resounding in those cliffs.
At times he struggles with the poisoned robe.
Goaded to fury, he has razed great trees,
and scattered the vast mountain rocks around!
And stretched his arms towards his ancestral skies!
So, in his frenzy, as he wandered there,
he chanced upon the trembling Lichas, crouched
in the close covert of a hollow rock.
Then in a savage fury he cried out,
“Was it you, Lichas, brought this fatal gift?
Shall you be called the author of my death?”
Lichas, in terror, groveled at his feet,
and begged for mercy—“Only let me live!”
But seizing on him, the crazed Hero whirled
him thrice and once again about his head,
and hurled him, shot as by a catapult,
into the waves of the Euboic Sea.
While he was hanging in the air, his form
was hardened; as, we know, rain drops may first
be frozen by the cold air, and then change
to snow, and as it falls through whirling winds
may press, so twisted, into round hailstones:
even so has ancient lore declared that when
strong arms hurled Lichas through the mountain air
through fear, his blood was curdled in his veins.
No moisture left in him, he was transformed
into a flint-rock. Even to this day,
a low crag rising from the waves is seen
out of the deep Euboean Sea, and holds
the certain outline of a human form,
so sure]y traced, the wary sailors fear
to tread upon it, thinking it has life,
and they have called it Lichas ever since.
But, O illustrious son of Jupiter!
How many of the overspreading trees,
thick-growing on the lofty mountain-peak
of Oeta, did you level to the ground,
and heap into a pyre! And then you bade
obedient Philoctetes light a torch
beneath it, and then take in recompense
your bow with its capacious quiver full
of arrows, arms that now again would see
the realm of Troy. And as the pyre began
to kindle with the greedy flames, you spread
the Nemean lion skin upon the top,
and, club for pillow, you lay down to sleep,
as placid as if, with abounding cups
of generous wine and crowned with garlands, you
were safe, reclining on a banquet-couch.
And now on every side the spreading flames
were crackling fiercely, as they leaped from earth
upon the careless limbs of Hercules.
He scorned their power. The Gods felt fear
for earth's defender and their sympathy
gave pleasure to Saturnian Jove — he knew
their thought—and joyfully he said to them:
“Your sudden fear is surely my delight,
O heavenly Gods! my heart is lifted up
and joy prevails upon me, in the thought
that I am called the Father and the King
of all this grateful race of Gods. I know
my own beloved offspring is secure
in your declared protection: your concern
may justly evidence his worth, whose deeds
great benefits bestowed. Let not vain thoughts
alarm you, nor the rising flames of Oeta;
for Hercules who conquered everything,
shall conquer equally the spreading fires
which now you see: and all that part of him,
celestial — inherited of me—
immortal, cannot feel the power of death.
It is not subject to the poison-heat.
And therefore, since his earth-life is now lost,
him I'll translate, unshackled from all dross,
and purified, to our celestial shore.
I trust this action seems agreeable
to all the Deities surrounding me.
If any jealous god of heaven should grieve
at the divinity of Hercules,
he may begrudge the prize but he will know
at least 'twas given him deservedly,
and with this thought he must approve the deed.”
The Gods confirmed it: and though Juno seemed
to be contented and to acquiesce,
her deep vexation was not wholly hid,
when Jupiter with his concluding words
so plainly hinted at her jealous mind.
Now, while the Gods conversed, the mortal part
of Hercules was burnt by Mulciber;
but yet an outline of a spirit-form
remained. Unlike the well-known mortal shape
derived by nature of his mother, he
kept traces only of his father, Jove.
And as a serpent, when it is revived
from its old age, casts off the faded skin,
and fresh with vigor glitters in new scales,
so, when the hero had put off all dross,
his own celestial, wonderful appeared,
majestic and of godlike dignity.
And him, the glorious father of the Gods
in the great chariot drawn by four swift steeds,
took up above the wide-encircling clouds,
and set him there amid the glittering stars.

> Latin: Nec modus est: sorbent avidae praecordia flammae,
caeruleusque fluit toto de corpore sudor,
ambustique sonant nervi: caecaque medullis
tabe liquefactis tollens ad sidera palmas
“cladibus,” exclamat “Saturnia, pascere nostris,
pascere et hanc pestem specta, crudelis, ab alto
corque ferum satia. Vel si miserandus et hosti,
hoc est, si tibi sum, diris cruciatibus aegram
invisamque animam natamque laboribus aufer:
hoc mihi munus erit; decet haec dare dona novercam.
Ergo ego foedantem peregrino templa cruore
Busirin domui saevoque alimenta parentis
Antaeo eripui? Nec me pastoris Hiberi
forma triplex, nec forma triplex tua, Cerbere, movit?
Vosne, manus, validi pressistis cornua tauri?
Vestrum opus Elis habet, vestrum Stymphalides undae
Partheniumque nemus? Vestra virtute relatus
Thermodontiaco caelatus balteus auro
pomaque ab insomni concustodita dracone?
Nec mihi Centauri potuere resistere, nec mi
Arcadiae vastator aper? Nec profuit hydrae
crescere per damnum geminasque resumere vires?
Quid tum? Thracis equos humano sanguine pingues
plenaque corporibus laceris praesepia vidi
visaque deieci dominumque ipsosque peremi.
His elisa iacet moles Nemeaea lacertis,
hac caelum cervice tuli. Defessa iubendo est
saeva Iovis coniunx: ego sum indefessus agendo.
Sed nova pestis adest, cui nec virtute resisti
nec telis armisque potest. Pulmonibus errat
ignis edax imis perque omnes pascitur artus.
At valet Eurystheus!—et sunt qui credere possint
esse deos!” Dixit, perque altam saucius Oeten
haud aliter graditur, quam si venabula taurus
corpore fixa gerat, factique refugerit auctor.
Saepe illum gemitus edentem, saepe frementem,
saepe retemptantem totas infringere vestes
sternentemque trabes irascentemque videres
montibus aut patrio tendentem bracchia caelo.
Ecce Lichan trepidum latitantem rupe cavata
adspicit, utque dolor rabiem conlegerat omnem,
“tune, Licha,” dixit “feralia dona dedisti?
Tune meae necis auctor eris?” Tremit ille pavetque
pallidus et timide verba excusantia dicit.
Dicentem genibusque manus adhibere parantem
corripit Alcides et terque quaterque rotatum
mittit in Euboicas tormento fortius undas.
Ille per aerias pendens induruit auras,
utque ferunt imbres gelidis concrescere ventis,
inde nives fieri, nivibus quoque molle rotatis
adstringi et spissa glomerari grandine corpus:
sic illum validis iactum per inane lacertis
exsanguemque metu nec quicquam umoris habentem
in rigidos versum silices prior edidit aetas.
Nunc quoque in Euboico scopulus brevis eminet alto
gurgite et humanae servat vestigia formae;
quem, quasi sensurum, nautae calcare verentur
appellantque Lichan.—At tu, Iovis inclita proles,
arboribus caesis, quas ardua gesserat Oete,
inque pyram structis, arcum pharetramque capacem
regnaque visuras iterum Troiana sagittas
ferre iubes Poeante satum. Quo flamma ministro est
subdita; dumque avidis comprenditur ignibus agger,
congeriem silvae Nemeaeo vellere summam
sternis et inposita clavae cervice recumbis,
haud alio vultu, quam si conviva iaceres
inter plena meri redimitus pocula sertis.
Iamque valens et in omne latus diffusa sonabat
securosque artus contemptoremque petebat
flamma suum; timuere dei pro vindice terrae.
Quos ita (sensit enim) laeto Saturnius ore
Iuppiter adloquitur: “Nostra est timor iste voluptas,
o superi, totoque libens mihi pectore grator,
quod memoris populi dicor rectorque paterque,
et mea progenies vestro quoque tuta favore est.
Nam quamquam ipsius datis hoc inmanibus actis,
obligor ipse tamen. Sed enim ne pectora vano
fida metu paveant: Oetaeas spernite flammas!
Omnia qui vicit, vincet, quos cernitis, ignes
nec nisi materna Vulcanum parte potentem
sentiet: aeternum est a me quod traxit et expers
atque inmune necis nullaque domabile flamma.
Idque ego defunctum terra caelestibus oris
accipiam, cunctisque meum laetabile factum
dis fore confido. Siquis tamen Hercule, siquis
forte deo doliturus erit, data praemia nolet,
sed meruisse dari sciet invitusque probabit.”
Adsensere dei: coniunx quoque regia visa est
cetera non duro, duro tamen ultima vultu
dicta tulisse Iovis seque indoluisse notatam.
Interea quodcumque fuit populabile flammae
Mulciber abstulerat, nec cognoscenda remansit
Herculis effigies; nec quicquam ab imagine ductum
matris habet, tantumque Iovis vestigia servat.
Utque novus serpens posita cum pelle senecta
luxuriare solet squamaque nitere recenti,
sic, ubi mortales Tirynthius exuit artus,
parte sui meliore viget maiorque videri
coepit et augusta fieri gravitate verendus.
Quem pater omnipotens inter cava nubila raptum
quadriiugo curru radiantibus intulit astris.

[¶3] Even Atlas felt the weight of Heaven increase,
but King Eurystheus, still implacable,
vented his baffled hatred on the sons
of the great hero. Then the Argive mother,
Alcmena, spent and anxious with long cares,
the burden of her old age and her fears,
could pass the weary hours with Iole
in garrulous narrations of his worth,
his mighty labors and her own sad days.
Iole, by command of Hercules,
had been betrothed to Hyllus, and by him
was gravid, burdened with a noble child.
And so to Iole, Alcmena told
this story of the birth of Hercules:—
“Ah, may the Gods be merciful to you
and give you swift deliverance in that hour
when needful of all help you must call out
for Ilithyia, the known goddess of
all frightened mothers in their travail, she
whom Juno's hatred overcame and made
so dreadful against me. For, when my hour
of bearing Hercules was very near,
and when the tenth sign of the zodiac
was traversed by the sun, my burden then
became so heavy, and the one I bore
so large, you certainly could tell that Jove
must be the father of the unborn child.
“At last, no longer able to endure—
ah me, a cold sweat seizes on me now;
only to think of it renews my pains!
Seven days in agony, as many nights,
exhausted in my dreadful misery,
I stretched my arms to heaven and invoked
Lucina and three Nixian deities
the guardians of birth. Lucina came;
but before then she had been pledged to give
my life to cruel Juno. While Lucina
sat on the altar near the door and listened,
with her right knee crossed over her left knee,
with fingers interlocked, she stopped the birth:
and in low muttered tones she chanted Charms
which there prevented my deliverance.
“I fiercely struggled, and insane with pain
shrieked vain revilings against Jupiter;
I longed for death, and my delirious words
then should have moved the most unfeeling rocks.
The Theban matrons, eager to help me,
stood near me while they asked the aid of Heaven.
“And there was present of the common class,
my maid Galanthis—with her red-gold hair—
efficient and most willing to obey
her worthy character deserved my love.
She felt assured, Juno unjustly worked
some spell of strong effect against my life.
And when this maid beheld Lucina perched
so strangely on the altar, with her fingers
inwoven on her knees and tightly pressed
together, in a gripping finger-comb,
she guessed that jealous Juno was the cause.
Quick-witted, in a ringing voice this maid
cried out, ‘Congratulations! All is well!
Alcmena is delivered—a fine child
so safely brought forth—her true prayers approved!’
“Lucina, who presides at birth, surprised
leaped up, unclenched her hands, as one amazed.
Just as her hands unfastened, and her knees
were parted from their stricture, I could feel
the bonds of stricture loosen; and without
more labor was delivered of my child.
“'Tis said, Galanthis laughed and ridiculed
the cheated deity; and as she laughed
the vixen goddess caught her by the hair
and dragging her upon the ground, while she
was struggling to arise, held her, and there
transformed both of her arms to animal
forelegs. Her old activity remained;
her hair was not changed, but she did not keep
her maiden form: and ever since that day,
because she aided with deceitful lips,
her offspring are brought forth through the same mouth.
Changed to a weasel she dwells now with me.”

> Latin: Sensit Atlas pondus.—Neque adhuc Stheneleius iras
solverat Eurystheus odiumque in prole paternum
exercebat atrox. At longis anxia curis
Argolis Alcmene, questus ubi ponat aniles,
cui referat nati testatos orbe labores,
cuive suos casus, Iolen habet. Herculis illam
imperiis thalamoque animoque receperat Hyllus
inpleratque uterum generoso semine, cum sic
incipit Alcmene: “Faveant tibi numina saltem
conripiantque moras, tum cum matura vocabis
praepositam timidis parientibus Ilithyiam,
quam mihi difficilem Iunonis gratia fecit.
Namque laboriferi cum iam natalis adesset
Herculis et decimum premeretur sidere signum,
tendebat gravitas uterum mihi, quodque ferebam,
tantum erat, ut posses auctorem dicere tecti
ponderis esse Iovem. Nec iam tolerare labores
ulterius poteram: quin nunc quoque frigidus artus,
dum loquor, horror habet, parsque est meminisse doloris.
Septem ego per noctes, totidem cruciata diebus,
fessa malis tendensque ad caelum bracchia magno
Lucinam Nixosque pares clamore vocabam.
Illa quidem venit, sed praecorrupta meumque
quae donare caput Iunoni vellet iniquae.
Utque meos audit gemitus, subsedit in illa
ante fores ara dextroque a poplite laevum
pressa genu digitis inter se pectine iunctis
sustinuit partus. Tacita quoque carmina voce
dixit, et inceptos tenuerunt carmina partus.
Nitor et ingrato facio convicia demens
vana Iovi cupioque mori moturaque duros
verba queror silices. Matres Cadmeides adsunt
votaque suscipiunt exhortanturque dolentem.
Una ministrarum, media de plebe, Galanthis,
flava comas, aderat, faciendis strenua iussis,
officiis dilecta suis. Ea sensit iniqua
nescio quid Iunone geri, dumque exit et intrat
saepe fores, divam residentem vidit in ara
bracchiaque in genibus digitis conexa tenentem,
et “quaecumque es,” ait “dominae gratare: levata est
Argolis Alcmene potiturque puerpera voto.”
Exsiluit iunctasque manus pavefacta remisit
diva potens uteri: vinclis levor ipsa remissis.
Numine decepto risisse Galanthida fama est:
ridentem prensamque ipsis dea saeva capillis
traxit, et e terra corpus relevare volentem
arcuit inque pedes mutavit bracchia primos.
Strenuitas antiqua manet, nec terga colorem
amisere suum: forma est diversa priori.
Quae quia mendaci parientem iuverat ore,
ore parit nostrasque domos, ut et ante, frequentat.”

[¶4] When she had ended the sad tale, she heaved
a deep sigh, in remembrance of her tried,
beloved servant; and her daughter-in-law
Iole kindly answered in these words:
“O my dear mother, if you weep because
of her who was your servant, now transformed
into a weasel, how can you support
the true narration of my sister's fate;
which I must tell to you, although my tears
and sorrows hinder and forbid my speech?
“Most beautiful of all Oechalian maids,
was Dryope, her mother's only child,
for you must know I am the daughter of
my father's second wife. She is not now
a maid; because, through violence of him
who rules at Delphi and at Delos, she
was taken by Andraemon, who since then
has been accounted happy in his wife.
“There is a lake surrounded by sweet lawns,
encircling beauties, where the upper slope
is crowned with myrtles in fair sunny groves.
Without a thought of danger Dryope
in worship one day went to gather flowers,
(who hears, has greater cause to be indignant)
delightful garlands, for the water-nymphs,
and, in her bosom, carried her dear son,
not yet a year old, whom she fed for love.
Not far from that dream-lake, in moisture grew
a lotus, beautiful in purple bloom,
the blossoms promising its fruit was near.
“At play with her sweet infant, Dryope
plucked them as toys for him. I, too, was there,
eagerly, also, I put forth my hand,
and was just ready to secure a spray,
when I was startled by some drops of blood
down-falling from the blossoms which were plucked;
and even the trembling branches shook in dread.
“Who wills, the truth of this may learn from all
quaint people of that land, who still relate
the Story of Nymph Lotis. She, they say,
while flying from the lust of Priapus,
was transformed quickly from her human shape,
into this tree, though she has kept her name.
“But ignorant of all this, Dryope,
alarmed, decided she must now return;
so, having first adored the hallowed nymphs,
upright she stood, and would have moved away,
but both her feet were tangled in a root.
There, as she struggled in its tightening hold,
she could move nothing save her upper parts;
and growing from that root, live bark began
to gather slowly upward from the ground,
spreading around her, till it touched her loins:
in terror when she saw the clinging growth,
she would have torn her hair out by the roots,
but, when she clutched at it, her hands were filled
with lotus leaves grown up from her changed head.
“Alas, her little son, Amphissos, felt
his mother's bosom harden to his touch,
and no life-stream refreshed his eager lips.
And while I saw your cruel destiny,
O my dear sister! and could give no help,
I clung to your loved body and around
the growing trunk and branches, hoping so
to stop their evil growth; and I confess,
endeavored there to hide beneath the bark.
“And, oh! Andraemon and her father, then
appeared to me while they were sadly seeking
for Dryope: so there I had to show
the lotus as it covered her, and they
gave kisses to the warm wood, and prostrate fell
upon the ground, and clung to growing roots
of their new darling tree, transformed from her.—
Dear sister, there was nothing of yourself
remaining but your face; and I could see
your tears drop slowly on the trembling leaves
which had so marvellously grown on you;
and while your lips remained uncovered, all
the air surrounding, echoed your complaint:—
“If oaths of wretched women can have force,
I swear I have not merited this fate!
Though innocent, to suffer punishment!
And if one word of my complaint is false,
I pray I may soon wither, and my leaves
fall from me as in blight, and let the axe
devote me, wretched to the flames. But take
this infant from my branches to a nurse;
and let him often play beneath his tree,—
his mother always. Let him drink his milk
beneath my shade. When he has learned to talk
let him salute me, and in sorrow say
“In this tree-trunk my mother is concealed.”
O, let him dread the fate that lurks in ponds,
and let him often play beneath his tree,—
and let him be persuaded every shrub
contains the body of a goddess. — Ah!
Farewell my husband,—sister, — and farewell
my father! If my love remain in you
remember to protect my life from harm,
so that the pruning-knife may never clip
my branches, and protect my foliage from
the browsing sheep.
“I cannot stoop to you;
0h, if you love me, lift your lips to mine,
and let me kiss you, if but once again,
before this growing lotus covers me.
Lift up my darling infant to my lips.
How can I hope to say much more to you?
The new bark now is creeping up my neck,
and creeping downward from my covered brow!
Ah, do not close my live eyes with your hands;
there is no need of it, for growing bark
will spread and darken them before I die!’
Such were the last words her poor smothered lips
could utter; for she was so quickly changed;
and long thereafter the new branches kept
the warmth of her lost body, so transformed.”
And all the while that Iole told this,
tearful in sorrow for her sister's fate,
Alcmena weeping, tried to comfort her.
But as they wept together, suddenly
a wonderful event astonished them;
for, standing in the doorway, they beheld
the old man Iolaus, known to them,
but now transformed from age to youth, he seemed
almost a boy, with light down on his cheeks:
for Juno's daughter Hebe, had renewed
his years to please her husband, Hercules.
Just at the time when ready to make oath,
she would not grant such gifts to other men—
Themis had happily prevented her.
“For even now,” she said, “a civil strife
is almost ready to break forth in Thebes,
and Capaneus shall be invincible
to all save the strong hand of Jove himself;
and there two hostile brothers shall engage
in bloody conflict; and Amphiaraus
shall see his own ghost, deep in yawning earth.
“His own son, dutiful to him, shall be
both just and unjust in a single deed;
for he, in vengeance for his father's death,
shall slay his mother, and confounded lose
both home and reason,—persecuted both
by the grim Furies and the awful ghost
of his own murdered mother; this until
his wife, deluded, shall request of him
the fatal golden necklace, and until
the sword of Phegeus drains his kinsman's blood.
“And then at last his wife Callirhoe
shall supplicate the mighty Jupiter
to grant her infant sons the added years
of youthful manhood. Then shall Jupiter
let Hebe, guardian of ungathered days,
grant from the future to Callirhoe's sons,
the strength of manhood in their infancy.
Do not let their victorious father's death
be unavenged a long while. Jove prevailed
upon, will claim beforehand all the gifts
of Hebe, who is his known daughter-in-law,
and his step-daughter, and with one act change
Callirhoe's beardless boys to men of size.”

> Latin: Dixit, et admonitu veteris commota ministrae
ingemuit. Quam sic nurus est adfata dolentem:
“Te tamen, o genetrix, alienae sanguine vestro
rapta movet facies. Quid si tibi mira sororis
fata meae referam? quamquam lacrimaeque dolorque
impediunt prohibentque loqui. Fuit unica matri
(me pater ex alia genuit) notissima forma
Oechalidum Dryope. Quam virginitate carentem
vimque dei passam Delphos Delumque tenentis
excipit Andraemon, et habetur coniuge felix.
Est lacus adclivis devexo margine formam
litoris efficiens: summum myrteta coronant.
Venerat huc Dryope fatorum nescia, quoque
indignere magis, nymphis latura coronas;
inque sinu puerum, qui nondum impleverat annum,
dulce ferebat onus tepidique ope lactis alebat.
Haud procul a stagno Tyrios imitata colores
in spem bacarum florebat aquatica lotos.
Carpserat hinc Dryope, quos oblectamina nato
porrigeret, flores, et idem factura videbar
(namque aderam): vidi guttas e flore cruentas
decidere et tremulo ramos horrore moveri.
Scilicet, ut referunt tardi nunc denique agrestes,
Lotis in hanc nymphe, fugiens obscena Priapi,
contulerat versos servato nomine, vultus.
Nescierat soror hoc. Quae cum perterrita retro
ire et adoratis vellet discedere nymphis,
haeserunt radice pedes. Convellere pugnat,
nec quicquam nisi summa movet. Subcrescit ab imo
totaque paulatim lentus premit inguina cortex.
Ut vidit, conata manu laniare capillos,
fronde manum implevit: frondes caput omne tenebant.
At puer Amphissos (namque hoc avus Eurytus illi
addiderat nomen) materna rigescere sentit
ubera, nec sequitur ducentem lacteus umor.
Spectatrix aderam facti crudelis opemque
non poteram tibi ferre, soror; quantumque valebam,
crescentem truncum ramosque amplexa morabar
et, fateor, volui sub eodem cortice condi.
Ecce vir Andraemon genitorque miserrimus adsunt
et quaerunt Dryopen: Dryopen quaerentibus illis
ostendi loton. Tepido dant oscula ligno
adfusique suae radicibus arboris haerent.
Nil nisi iam faciem, quod non foret arbor, habebat
cara soror: lacrimae misero de corpore factis
inrorant foliis, et, dum licet oraque praestant
vocis iter, tales effundit in aera questus:
“Siqua fides miseris, hoc me per numina iuro
non meruisse nefas: patior sine crimine poenam.
Viximus innocuae: si mentior, arida perdam
quas habeo, frondes et caesa securibus urar.
Hunc tamen infantem maternis demite ramis
et date nutrici; nostraque sub arbore saepe
lac facitote bibat nostraque sub arbore ludat!
Cumque loqui poterit, matrem facitote salutet,
et tristis dicat “latet hoc in stipite mater.”
Stagna tamen timeat nec carpat ab arbore flores,
et frutices omnes corpus putet esse deorum!
Care vale coniunx, et tu, germana, paterque!
Qui, siqua est pietas, ab acutae vulnere falcis,
a pecoris morsu frondes defendite nostras.
Et quoniam mihi fas ad vos incumbere non est,
erigite huc artus et ad oscula nostra venite,
dum tangi possunt, parvumque attollite natum.
Plura loqui nequeo. Nam iam per candida mollis
colla liber serpit, summoque cacumine condor.
Ex oculis removete manus: sine munere vestro
contegat inductus morientia lumina cortex!”
Desierant simul ora loqui, simul esse, diuque
corpore mutato rami caluere recentes.”
Dumque refert Iole factum mirabile, dumque
Eurytidos lacrimas admoto pollice siccat
Alcmene (flet et ipsa tamen), conpescuit omnem
res nova tristitiam. Nam limine constitit alto
paene puer dubiaque tegens lanugine malas
ora reformatus primos Iolaus in annos.
Hoc illi dederat Iunonia muneris Hebe,
victa viri precibus. Quae cum iurare pararet
dona tributuram post hunc se talia nulli,
non est passa Themis: “Nam iam discordia Thebae
bella movent” dixit “Capaneusque nisi ab Iove vinci
haud poterit, fientque pares in vulnere fratres,
subductaque suos manes tellure videbit
vivus adhuc vates; ultusque parente parentem
natus erit facto pius et sceleratus eodem;
attonitusque malis exsul mentisque domusque,
vultibus Eumenidum matrisque agitabitur umbris,
donec eum coniunx fatale poposcerit aurum,
cognatumque latus Phegeius hauserit ensis.
Tum demum magno petet hos Acheloia supplex
ab Iove Callirhoe natis infantibus annos
neve necem sinat esse diu victoris inultam,
Iuppiter his motus privignae dona nurusque
praecipiet facietque viros inpubibus annis.”