---
title: "Metamorphoses"
author: "Ovid"
translator: "Brookes More"
title_ru: "Метаморфозы"
author_ru: "Овидий"
languages: [la, en]
shelf: "Classical Latin"
section: 4 of 30
url: https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/4/
cite: "Ovid, tr. Brookes More, Metamorphoses, section 4. Scriptura (scriptura.si), https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/4/"
---

# 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.

## 4. Book II · lines 466–875

Source: https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/4/ · cite a paragraph as https://scriptura.si/works/ovid-metamorphoses/4/#p-N

[¶0] Ere this transpired,
observed the consort of the Thunder-God
her altered mien; but she for ripening time
withheld severe resentment. Now delay
was needless for distracted Juno heard
Calisto of the god of Heaven had borne
a boy called Arcas. Full of jealous rage,
her eyes and thoughts enkindled as she cried;
“And only this was wanting to complete
your wickedness, that you should bear a son
and flaunt abroad the infamy of Jove!
Unpunished you shall not escape, for I
will spoil the beauty that has made you proud
and dazzled Jupiter with wanton art.”
So saying, by her forehead's tresses seized
the goddess on her rival; and she dragged
her roughly to the ground. Pleading she raised
her suppliant arms and begged for mercy.—While
she pled, black hair spread over her white limbs;
her hands were lengthened into feet, and claws
long-curving tipped them; snarling jaws deformed
the mouth that Jove had kissed. And lest her prayers
and piteous words might move some listening God,
and give remembrance, speech was so denied,
that only from her throat came angry growls,
now uttered hoarse and threatening.
Still remains
her understanding, though her body, thus
transformed, makes her appear a savage bear.—
her sorrows are expressed in many a groan,
repeated as she lifts her hands—if we
may call them so—repeated as she lifts
them towards the stars and skies, ungrateful Jove
regarding; but her voice accuses not.
Afraid to rest in unfrequented woods,
she wandered in the fields that once were hers,
around her well-known dwelling. Over crags,
in terror, she was driven by the cries
of hounds; and many a time she fled in fear,
a huntress from the hunters, or she hid
from savage animals; forgetting her
transformed condition. Changed into a bear,
she fled affrighted from the bears that haunt
the rugged mountains; and she feared and fled
the wolves,—although her father was a wolf.
When thrice five birthdays rounded out the youth
of Arcas, offspring of Lycaon's child,
he hunted in the forest of his choice;
where, hanging with his platted nets the trees
of Erymanthian forest, he espied
his transformed mother,—but he knew her not;
no one had told him of his parentage.
Knowing her child, she stood with levelled gaze,
amazed and mute as he began approach;
but Arcas, frightened at the sight drew back
to pierce his mother's breast with wounding spear.—
but not permitting it the god of Heaven
averted, and removed them from that crime.
He, in a mighty wind—through vacant space,
upbore them to the dome of starry heaven,
and fixed them, Constellations, bright amid
the starry host.
Juno on high beheld
Calisto crowned with glory—great with rage
her bosom heaved. She flew across the sea,
to hoary Tethys and to old Oceanus,
whom all the Gods revere, and thus to them
in answer to their words she made address;
“And is it wondered that the Queen of Gods
comes hither from ethereal abodes?
My rival sits upon the Throne of Heaven:
yea, when the wing of Night has darkened
let my fair word be deemed of no repute,
if you behold not in the height of Heaven
those new made stars, now honoured to my shame,
conspicuous; fixed in the highest dome of space
that circles the utmost axis of the world.
“Who, then, should hesitate to put affront
on Juno? matchless goddess! each offense
redounds in benefit! Who dreads her rage?
Oh boundless powers! Oh unimagined deeds!
My enemy assumes a goddess' form
when my decree deprives her human shape;—
and thus the guilty rue their chastisement!
“Now let high Jove to human shape transform
this hideous beast, as once before he changed
his Io from a heifer.—Let him now
divorce his Juno and consort with her,
and lead Calisto to his couch, and take
that wolf, Lycaon, for a father-in-law!
“Oh, if an injury to me, your child,
may move your pity! drive the Seven Stars
from waters crystalline and azure-tint,
and your domain debar from those that shine
in Heaven, rewarded for Jove's wickedness.—
bathe not a concubine in waters pure.”—

> Latin: Senserat hoc olim magni matrona Tonantis
distuleratque graves in idonea tempora poenas.
Causa morae nulla est, et iam puer Arcas (id ipsum
indoluit Iuno) fuerat de paelice natus.
Quo simul obvertit saevam cum lumine mentem,
“scilicet hoc etiam restabat, adultera” dixit,
“ut fecunda fores, fieretque iniuria partu
nota, Iovisque mei testatum dedecus esset.
Haud impune feres: adimam tibi nempe figuram,
qua tibi, quaque places nostro, importuna, marito.”
Dixit et adversa prensis a fronte capillis
stravit humi pronam. Tendebat bracchia supplex:
bracchia coeperunt nigris horrescere villis
curvarique manus et aduncos crescere in ungues
officioque pedum fungi, laudataque quondam
ora Iovi lato fieri deformia rictu.
Neve preces animos et verba precantia flectant
posse loqui eripitur; vox iracunda minaxque
plenaque terroris rauco de gutture fertur.
Mens antiqua tamen facta quoque mansit in ursa,
adsiduoque suos gemitu testata dolores
qualescumque manus ad caelum et sidera tollit
ingratumque Iovem, nequeat cum dicere, sentit.
A quotiens, sola non ausa quiescere silva,
ante domum quondamque suis erravit in agris!
A quotiens per saxa canum latratibus acta est
venatrixque metu venantum territa fugit!
Saepe feris latuit visis, oblita quid esset,
ursaque conspectos in montibus horruit ursos
pertimuitque lupos, quamvis pater esset in illis.
Ecce, Lycaoniae proles, ignara parentis,
Arcas adest, ter quinque fere natalibus actis:
dumque feras sequitur, dum saltus eligit aptos
nexilibusque plagis silvas Erymanthidas ambit,
incidit in matrem; quae restitit Arcade viso
et cognoscenti similis fuit. Ille refugit
inmotosque oculos in se sine fine tenentem
nescius extimuit propiusque accedere aventi
vulnifico fuerat fixurus pectora telo.
Arcuit omnipotens pariterque ipsosque nefasque
sustulit, et celeri raptos per inania vento
imposuit caelo vicinaque sidera fecit.
Intumuit Iuno, postquam inter sidera paelex
fulsit et ad canam descendit in aequora Tethyn
Oceanumque senem, quorum reverentia movit
saepe deos, causamque viae scitantibus infit:
“Quaeritis, aetheriis quare regina deorum
sedibus huc adsim? pro me tenet altera caelum.
Mentiar, obscurum nisi nox cum fecerit orbem,
nuper honoratas summo, mea vulnera, caelo
videritis stellas illic, ubi circulus axem
ultimus extremum spatioque brevissimus ambit.
Est vero, cur quis Iunonem laedere nolit
offensamque tremat, quae prosum sola nocendo?
O ego quantum egi! quam vasta potentia nostra est!
Esse hominem vetui: facta est dea. Sic ego poenas
sontibus impono, sic est mea magna potestas.
Vindicet antiquam faciem vultusque ferinos
detrahat, Argolica quod in ante Phoronide fecit.
Cur non et pulsa ducit Iunone meoque
collocat in thalamo socerumque Lycaona sumit?
At vos si laesae tangit contemptus alumnae,
gurgite caeruleo septem prohibete triones
sideraque in caelo, stupri mercede, recepta
pellite, ne puro tingatur in aequore paelex.”

[¶1] the Gods of Ocean granted her request.
High in her graceful chariot through the air,
translucent, wends the goddess, glorious child
of Saturn, with her peacocks many-hued:
her peacocks, by the death of Argus limned,
so gay were made when black as midnight turned
thy wings, O chattering raven! white of yore.
For, long ago the ravens were not black—
their plumage then was white as any dove—
white-feathered, snow-white as the geese that guard
with watchful cries the Capitol: as white
as swans that haunt the streams. Disgrace reversed
the raven's hue from white to black, because
offense was given by his chattering tongue.
O glorious Phoebus! dutiful to thee,
Coronis of Larissa, fairest maid
of all Aemonia, was a grateful charm,
a joy to thee whilst faithful to thy love,—
while none defamed her chastity. But when
the Raven, bird of Phoebus, learned the Nymph
had been unfaithful, mischief-bent that bird,
spreading his white wings, hastened to impart
the sad news to his master. After him
the prattling Crow followed with flapping wings,
eager to learn what caused the Raven's haste.
Concealing nothing, with his busy tongue
the Raven gave the scandal to that bird:
and unto him the prattling Crow replied;
“A fruitless errand has befooled thy wits!
Take timely warning of my fateful cries:
consider what I was and what I am:
was justice done? 'Twas my fidelity
that caused my downfall. For, it came to pass,
within a basket, fashioned of small twigs,
Minerva had enclosed that spawn; begot
without a mother, Ericthonius;
which to the wardship of three virgins, born
of double-natured Cecrops, she consigned
with this injunction, ‘Look ye not therein,
nor learn the secret.’—
“But I saw their deeds
while hidden in the leaves of a great tree
two of the sisters, Herse and Pandrosos,
observed the charge, but scoffing at their fears,
the third, Aglauros, with her nimble hands
untied the knotted cords, and there disclosed
a serpent and an infant. This I told
Minerva; but in turn, she took away
her long protection, and degraded me
beneath the boding Owl.—My punishment
should warn the birds how many dangers they
incur from chattering tongues.
“Not my desire
impelled me to report to her, nor did
I crave protection; which, if thou wilt ask
Minerva, though enraged she must confirm.
And when is told to thee what lately fame
established, thou wilt not despise the Crow.
“Begot by Coronaeus, who was lord
of all the land of Phocis, I was once
a royal virgin, sought by suitors rich
and powerful. But beauty proved the cause
of my misfortune; for it came to pass,
as I was slowly walking on the sands
that skirt the merge of ocean, where was oft
my wont to roam, the god of Ocean gazed
impassioned, and with honied words implored
my love—but finding that I paid no heed,
and all his words despised, he fumed with rage
and followed me.
“I fled from that sea-shore,
to fields of shifting sands that all my steps
delayed: and in despair upon the Gods
and all mankind I called for aid, but I
was quite alone and helpless. Presently
the chaste Minerva, me, a virgin, heard
and me assistance gave: for as my arms
implored the Heavens, downy feathers grew
from out the flesh; and as I tried to cast
my mantle from my shoulders, wings appeared
upon my tender sides; and as I strove
to beat my naked bosom with my hands,
nor hands remained nor naked breast to beat.
“I ran, and as I sped the sands no more
delayed me; I was soaring from the ground;
and as I winged the air, Minerva chose
me for a life-companion; but alas,
although my life was blameless, fate or chance
deprived me of Minerva's loving aid;
for soon Nictimene succeeded me
to her protection and deserved esteem.—
it happened in this way,—Nictimene
committed the most wicked crimes, for which
Minerva changed her to the bird of night—
and ever since has claimed her as her own
instead of me; and this despite the deed
for which she shuns the glorious light of day,
and conscious of her crime conceals her shame
in the dark night—Minerva's Owl now called.
All the glad birds of day, indignant shun,
and chase her from the skies.”
But now replied
the Raven to the Crow, that talked so much,
“A mischief fall upon your prating head
for this detention of my flight. Your words
and warnings I despise.” With which retort
he winged upon his journey, swiftly thence
in haste, despite the warning to inform
his patron, Phoebus, how he saw the fair
Coronis with a lad of Thessaly.
And when Apollo, Phoebus, heard the tale
the busy Raven made such haste to tell,
he dropped his plectrum and his laurel wreath,
and his bright countenance went white with rage.
He seized his trusted arms, and having bent
his certain bow, pierced with a deadly shaft
that bosom which so often he had pressed
against his own.
Coronis moaned in pain,—
and as she drew the keen shaft from the wound,
her snow-white limbs were bathed in purple blood:
and thus she wailed, “Ah, Phoebus! punishment
is justly mine! but wherefore didst thou not
await the hour of birth? for by my death
an innocent is slain.” This said, her soul
expired with her life-blood, and death congealed
her drooping form.
Sadly the love-lore God
repents his jealous deed; regrets too late
his ready credence to the Raven's tale.
Mourning his thoughtless deed, blaming himself,
he vents his rage upon the talking bird;
he hates his bow, the string, his own right hand,
the fateful arrow. As a last resource,
and thus to overcome her destiny,
he strove to cherish her beloved form;
for vain were all his medicinal arts.
But when he saw upraised the funeral pyre,
where wreathed in flames her body should be burnt,
the sorrow of his heart welled forth in sighs;
but tearless orbed, for no celestial face
may tide of woe bedew. So grieves the poor dam,
when, swinging from his right the flashing ax,
the butcher with a sounding blow divides
the hollow temples of her sucking calf.
Yet, after Phoebus poured the fragrant myrrh,
sweet perfumes on her breast, that now once more
against his own he pressed, and after all
the prematurely hastened rites were done,
he would not suffer the offspring of his loins
to mingle with her ashes, but he plucked
from out the flames, forth from the mother's thighs
his child, unborn, and carried to the cave
of double-natured Chiron.
Then to him
he called the silly raven, high in hopes
of large requital due for all his words;
but, angry with his meddling ways, the God
turned the white feathers of that bird to black
and then forbade forever more to perch
among the favoured birds whose plumes are white.

> Latin: Di maris adnuerant: habili Saturnia curru
ingreditur liquidum pavonibus aethera pictis,
tam nuper pictis caeso pavonibus Argo,
quam tu nuper eras, cum candidus ante fuisses,
corve loquax, subito nigrantes versus in alas.
Nam fuit haec quondam niveis argentea pennis
ales ut aequaret totas sine labe columbas
nec servaturis vigili Capitolia voce
cederet anseribus nec amanti flumina cycno.
Lingua fuit damno; lingua faciente loquaci
qui color albus erat, nunc est contrarius albo.
Pulchrior in tota, quam Larisaea Coronis,
non fuit Haemonia: placuit tibi, Delphice, certe,
dum vel casta fuit vel inobservata. Sed ales
sensit adulterium Phoebeius, utque latentem
detegeret culpam, non exorabilis index,
ad dominum tendebat iter. Quem garrula motis
consequitur pennis, scitetur ut omnia, cornix,
auditaque viae causa “non utile carpis”
inquit “iter: ne sperne meae praesagia linguae.
Quid fuerim quid simque vide, meritumque require:
invenies nocuisse fidem. Nam tempore quodam
Pallas Erichthonium, prolem sine matre creatam,
clauserat Actaeo texta de vimine cista
virginibusque tribus gemino de Cecrope natis
et legem dederat, sua ne secreta viderent.
Abdita fronde levi densa speculabar ab ulmo,
quid facerent. Commissa duae sine fraude tuentur,
Pandrosos atque Herse; timidas vocat una sorores
Aglauros nodosque manu diducit, et intus
infantemque vident adporrectumque draconem.
Acta deae refero. Pro quo mihi gratia talis
redditur, ut dicar tutela pulsa Minervae
et ponar post noctis avem. Mea poena volucres
admonuisse potest ne voce pericula quaerant.
At, puto, non ultro nec quicquam tale rogantem
me petiit? ipsa licet hoc a Pallade quaeras:
quamvis irata est, non hoc irata negabit.
Nam me Phocaica clarus tellure Coroneus
(nota loquor) genuit fueramque ego regia virgo
divitibusque procis (ne me contemne) petebar.
Forma mihi nocuit. Nam cum per litora lentis
passibus, ut soleo, summa spatiarer harena,
vidit et incaluit pelagi deus; utque precando
tempora cum blandis absumpsit inania verbis,
vim parat et sequitur. Fugio densumque relinquo
litus et in molli nequiquam lassor harena.
Inde deos hominesque voco; nec contigit ullum
vox mea mortalem: mota est pro virgine virgo
auxiliumque tulit. Tendebam bracchia caelo:
bracchia coeperunt levibus nigrescere pennis.
Reicere ex umeris vestem molibar: at illa
pluma erat inque cutem radices egerat imas.
Plangere nuda meis conabar pectora palmis:
sed neque iam palmas nec pectora nuda gerebam.
Currebam: nec, ut ante, pedes retinebat harena,
sed summa tollebar humo. Mox alta per auras
evehor et data sum comes inculpata Minervae.
Quid tamen hoc prodest, si diro facta volucris
crimine Nyctimene nostro successit honori?
An quae per totam res est notissima Lesbon,
non audita tibi est, patrium temerasse cubile
Nyctimenen? avis illa quidem, sed conscia culpae
conspectum lucemque fugit tenebrisque pudorem
celat et a cunctis expellitur aethere toto.”
Talia dicenti “tibi” ait “revocamina” corvus
“sint precor ista malo: nos vanum spernimus omen.”
Nec coeptum dimittit iter, dominoque iacentem
cum iuvene Haemonio vidisse Coronida narrat.
Laurea delapsa est audito crimine amanti,
et pariter vultusque deo plectrumque colorque
excidit. Utque animus tumida fervebat ab ira,
arma adsueta rapit flexumque a cornibus arcum
tendit et illa suo totiens cum pectore iuncta
indevitato traiecit pectora telo.
Icta dedit gemitum, tractoque a corpore ferro
candida puniceo perfudit membra cruore,
et dixit: “Potui poenas tibi, Phoebe, dedisse,
sed peperisse prius: duo nunc moriemur in una.”
Hactenus, et pariter vitam cum sanguine fudit.
Corpus inane animae frigus letale secutum est.
Paenitet heu sero poenae crudelis amantem,
seque, quod audierit, quod sic exarserit, odit;
odit avem, per quam crimen causamque dolendi
scire coactus erat, nec non arcumque manumque
odit, cumque manu temeraria tela sagittas
conlapsamque fovet seraque ope vincere fata
nititur et medicas exercet inaniter artes.
Quae postquam frustra temptata, rogumque parari
vidit et arsuros supremis ignibus artus,
tum vero gemitus (neque enim caelestia tingi
ora licet lacrimis) alto de corde petitos
edidit, haud aliter quam cum spectante iuvenca
lactentis vituli, dextra libratus ab aure
tempora discussit claro cava malleus ictu.
Ut tamen ingratos in pectora fudit odores
et dedit amplexus iniustaque iusta peregit,
non tulit in cineres labi sua Phoebus eosdem
semina, sed natum flammis uteroque parentis
eripuit geminique tulit Chironis in antrum;
sperantemque sibi non falsae praemia linguae
inter aves albas vetuit consistere corvum.

[¶2] Chiron, the Centaur, taught his pupil; proud
that he was honoured by that God-like charge.
Behold, his lovely daughter, who was born
beside the margin of a rapid stream,
came forward, with her yellow hair as gold
adown her shoulders.—She was known by name
Ocyroe. The hidden things that Fate
conceals, she had the power to tell; for not
content was she to learn her father's arts,
but rather pondered on mysterious things.
So, when the god of Frenzy warmed her breast,
gazing on Aesculapius,—the child
of Phoebus and Coronis, while her soul
was gifted, with prophetic voice she said;
“O thou who wilt bestow on all the world
the blessed boon of health, increase in strength!
To thee shall mortals often owe their lives:
to thee is given the power to raise the dead.
But when against the power of Deities
thou shalt presume to dare thy mortal skill,
the bolts of Jove will shatter thy great might,
and health no more be thine from thence to grant.
And from a god thou shalt return to dust,
and once again from dust become a God;
and thou shalt thus renew thy destiny.—
“And thou, dear father Chiron, brought to birth
with pledge of an immortal life, informed
with ever-during strength, when biting flames
of torment from the baneful serpent's blood
are coursing in thy veins, thou shalt implore
a welcome death; and thy immortal life
the Gods shall suffer to the power of death.—
and the three Destinies shall cut thy thread.”
She would continue these prophetic words
but tears unbidden trickled down her face;
and, as it seemed her sighs would break her heart,
she thus bewailed; “The Fates constrain my speech
and I can say no more; my power has gone.
Alas, my art, although of little force
and doubtful worth, has brought upon my head
the wrath of Heaven.
“Oh wherefore did I know
to cast the future? Now my human form
puts on another shape, and the long grass
affords me needed nourishment. I want
to range the boundless plains and have become,
in image of my father's kind, a mare:
but gaining this, why lose my human shape?
My father's form is one of twain combined.”
And as she wailed the words became confused
and scarcely understood; and soon her speech
was only as the whinny of a mare.
Down to the meadow's green her arms were stretched;
her fingers joined together, and smooth hoofs
made of five nails a single piece of horn.
Her face and neck were lengthened, and her hair
swept downward as a tail; the scattered locks
that clung around her neck were made a mane,
tossed over to the right. Her voice and shape
were altogether changed, and since that day
the change has given her a different name.

> Latin: Semifer interea divinae stirpis alumno
laetus erat mixtoque oneri gaudebat honore.
Ecce venit rutilis umeros protecta capillis
filia Centauri, quam quondam nympha Chariclo
fluminis in rapidi ripis enixa vocavit
Ocyroen. Non haec artes contenta paternas
edidicisse fuit: fatorum arcana canebat.
Ergo ubi vaticinos concepit mente furores
incaluitque deo, quem clausum pectore habebat,
adspicit infantem “toto” que “salutifer orbi
cresce puer” dixit: “tibi se mortalia saepe
corpora debebunt; animas tibi reddere ademptas
fas erit; idque semel dis indignantibus ausus
posse dare hoc iterum flamma prohibebere avita
eque deo corpus fies exsangue, deusque,
qui modo corpus eras, et bis tua fata novabis.
Tu quoque, care pater, nunc inmortalis et aevis
omnibus ut maneas nascendi lege creatus,
posse mori cupies, tum cum cruciabere dirae
sanguine serpentis per saucia membra recepto;
teque ex aeterno patientem numina mortis
efficient, triplicesque deae tua fila resolvent.”
Restabat fatis aliquid. Suspirat ab imis
pectoribus, lacrimaeque genis labuntur obortae,
atque ita “praevertunt” inquit “me fata, vetorque
plura loqui, vocisque meae praecluditur usus.
Non fuerant artes tanti, quae numinis iram
contraxere mihi; mallem nescisse futura.
Iam mihi subduci facies humana videtur,
iam cibus herba placet, iam latis currere campis
impetus est: in equam cognataque corpora vertor.
Tota tamen quare? pater est mihi nempe biformis.”
Talia dicenti pars est extrema querellae
intellecta parum, confusaque verba fuerunt.
Mox nec verba quidem nec equae sonus ille videtur,
sed simulantis equam, parvoque in tempore certos
edidit hinnitus et bracchia movit in herbas.
Tum digiti coeunt et quinos adligat ungues
perpetuo cornu levis ungula, crescit et oris
et colli spatium, longae pars maxima pallae
cauda fit, utque vagi crines per colla iacebant,
in dextras abiere iubas: pariterque novata est
et vox et facies nomen quoque monstra dedere.

[¶3] In vain her hero father, Chiron, prayed
the glorious God, Apollo, her to aid.
He could not thwart the will of mighty Jove;
and if the power were his, far from the spot,
from thence afar his footsteps trod the fields
of Elis and Messenia, far from thence.
Now while Apollo wandered on those plains,—
his shoulders covered with a shepherd's skin,
his left hand holding his long shepherd's staff,
his right hand busied with the seven reeds
of seven sizes, brooding over the death
of Hymenaeus, lost from his delight;
while mournful ditties on the reeds were tuned,—
his kine, forgotten, strayed away to graze
over the plains of Pylos. Mercury
observed them, unattended, and from thence
drove them away and hid them in the forest.
So deftly did he steal them, no one knew
or noticed save an ancient forester,
well known to all the neighbor-folk, by them
called Battus. He was keeper of that wood,
and that green pasture where the blooded mares
of rich Neleus grazed.
As Mercury
distrusted him, he led him to one side
and said; “Good stranger, whosoever thou art,
if any one should haply question thee,
if thou hast seen these kine, deny it all;
and for thy good will, ere the deed is done,
I give as thy reward this handsome cow.”
Now when the gift was his, old Battus said,
“Go hence in safety, if it be thy will;
and should my tongue betray thee, let that stone
make mention of the theft.” And as he spoke,
he pointed to a stone.
The son of Jove
pretended to depart, but quickly changed
his voice and features, and retraced his steps,
and thus again addressed that ancient man;
“Kind sir, if thou wouldst earn a fair reward,
a heifer and a bull, if thou hast seen
some cattle pass, I pray thee give thy help,
and tell me of the theft.” So the reward
was doubled; and the old man answered him,
“Beyond those hills they be,” and so they were
‘Beyond those hills.’
And, laughing, Mercury said,
“Thou treacherous man to me dost thou betray
myself? Dost thou bewray me to myself?”
The god indignant turned his perjured breast
into a stone which even now is called
“The Spy of Pylos,” a disgraceful name,
derived from days of old, but undeserved.

> Latin: Flebat opemque tuam frustra Philyreius heros,
Delphice, poscebat. Nam nec rescindere magni
iussa Iovis poteras, nec, si rescindere posses,
tunc aderas: Elin Messeniaque arva colebas.
Illud erat tempus, quo te pastoria pellis
texit onusque fuit baculum silvestre sinistrae,
alterius dispar septenis fistula cannis.
Dumque amor est curae, dum te tua fistula mulcet,
incustoditae Pylios memorantur in agros
processisse boves. Videt has Atlantide Maia
natus et arte sua silvis occultat abactas.
Senserat hoc furtum nemo nisi notus in illo
rure senex; Battum vicinia tota vocabant.
Divitis hic saltus herbosaque pascua Nelei
nobiliumque greges custos servabat equarum.
Hunc timuit blandaque manu seduxit et illi
“quisquis es, hospes” ait, “si forte armenta requiret
haec aliquis, vidisse nega; neu gratia facto
nulla rependatur, nitidam cape praemia vaccam” —
et dedit. Accepta voces has reddidit hospes:
“Tutus eas: lapis iste prius tua furta loquetur”,
et lapidem ostendit. Simulat Iove natus abire,
mox redit, et versa pariter cum voce figura
“rustice, vidisti siquas hoc limite” dixit
“ire boves, fer opem furtoque silentia deme:
iuncta suo pariter dabitur ubi femina tauro.”
At senior, postquam est merces geminata, “sub illis
montibus” inquit “erunt”: et erant sub montibus illis.
Risit Atlantiades et “me mihi, perfide, prodis?
me mihi prodis?” ait, periuraque pectora vertit
in durum silicem, qui nunc quoque dicitur index,
inque nihil merito vetus est infamia saxo.

[¶4] High in the dome of Heaven, behold the bright
Caduceus-Bearer soared on balanced wings;
and far below him through a fruitful grove,
devoted to Minerva's hallowed reign,
some virgins bearing on their lovely heads,
in wicker baskets wreathed and decked with flowers,
their sacred offerings to the citadel
of that chaste goddess. And the winged God,
while circling in the clear unbounded skies,
beheld that train of virgins, beautiful,
as they were thence returning on their way.
Not forward on a level line he flew,
but wheeled in circles round. Lo, the swift kite
swoops round the smoking entrails, while the priests
enclose in guarded ranks their sacrifice:
wary with fear, that swiftest of all birds,
dares not to venture from his vantage height,
but greedily hovers on his waving wings
around his keen desire. So, the bright God
circled those towers, Actaean, round and round,
in mazey circles, greedy as the bird.
As much as Lucifer outshines the stars
that emulate the glory of his rays,
as greatly as bright Phoebe pales thy light,
O lustrous Lucifer! so far surpassed
in beauty the fair maiden Herse, all
those lovely virgins of that sacred train,
departing joyous from Minerva's grove.
The Son of Jove, astonished, while he wheeled
on balanced pinions through the yielding air,
burned hot; as oft from Balearic sling
the leaden missile, hurled with sudden force,
burns in a glowing heat beneath the clouds.
Then sloped the god his course from airy height,
and turned a different way; another way
he went without disguise, in confidence
of his celestial grace. But though he knew
his face was beautiful, he combed his hair,
and fixed his flowing raiment, that the fringe
of radiant gold appeared. And in his hand
he waved his long smooth wand, with which he gives
the wakeful sleep or waketh ridded eyes.
He proudly glanced upon his twinkling feet
that sparkled with their scintillating wings.
In a secluded part of that great fane,
devoted to Minerva's hallowed rites,
three chambers were adorned with tortoise shell
and ivory and precious woods inlaid;
and there, devoted to Minerva's praise,
three well known sisters dwelt. Upon the right
dwelt Pandrosos and over on the left
Aglauros dwelt, and Herse occupied
the room between those two.
When Mercury
drew near to them, Aglauros first espied
the God, and ventured to enquire his name,
and wherefore he was come. Then gracious spoke
to her in answer the bright son of Jove;
“Behold the god who carries through the air
the mandates of almighty Jupiter!
But I come hither not to waste my time
in idle words, but rather to beseech
thy kindness and good aid, that I may win
the love of thy devoted sister Herse.”
Aglauros, on the son of Jupiter,
gazed with those eyes that only lately viewed
the guarded secret of the yellow-haired
Minerva, and demanded as her price
gold of great weight; before he paid denied
admittance of the house.
Minerva turned,
with orbs of stern displeasure, towards the maid
Aglauros; and her bosom heaved with sighs
so deeply laboured that her Aegis-shield
was shaken on her valiant breast. For she
remembered when Aglauros gave to view
her charge, with impious hand, that monster form
without a mother, maugre Nature's law,
what time the god who dwells on Lemnos loved.—
now to requite the god and sister; her
to punish whose demand of gold was great;
Minerva to the Cave of Envy sped.
Dark, hideous with black gore, her dread abode
is hidden in the deepest hollowed cave,
in utmost limits where the genial sun
may never shine, and where the breathing winds
may never venture; dismal, bitter cold,
untempered by the warmth of welcome fires,
involved forever in abounding gloom.
When the fair champion came to this abode
she stood before its entrance, for she deemed
it not a lawful thing to enter there:
and she whose arm is mortal to her foes,
struck the black door-posts with her pointed spear,
and shook them to the center. Straight the doors
flew open, and, behold, within was Envy
ravening the flesh of vipers, self-begot,
the nutriment of her depraved desires.—
when the great goddess met her evil gaze
she turned her eyes away. But Envy slow,
in sluggish languor from the ground uprose,
and left the scattered serpents half-devoured;
then moving with a sullen pace approached.—
and when she saw the gracious goddess, girt
with beauty and resplendent in her arms,
she groaned aloud and fetched up heavy sighs.
Her face is pale, her body long and lean,
her shifting eyes glance to the left and right,
her snaggle teeth are covered with black rust,
her hanging paps overflow with bitter gall,
her slavered tongue drips venom to the ground;
busy in schemes and watchful in dark snares
sweet sleep is banished from her blood-shot eyes;
her smiles are only seen when others weep;
with sorrow she observes the fortunate,
and pines away as she beholds their joy;
her own existence is her punishment,
and while tormenting she torments herself.
Although Minerva held her in deep scorn
she thus commanded her with winged words;
“Instil thy poison in Aglauros, child
of Cecrops; I command thee; do my will.”
She spake; and spurning with her spear the ground
departed; and the sad and furtive-eyed
envy observed her in her glorious flight:
she murmured at the goddess, great in arms:
but waiting not she took in hand her staff,
which bands of thorns encircled as a wreath,
and veiled in midnight clouds departed thence.
She blasted on her way the ripening fields;
scorched the green meadows, starred with flowers,
and breathed a pestilence throughout the land
and the great cities. When her eyes beheld
the glorious citadel of Athens, great
in art and wealth, abode of joyful peace,
she hardly could refrain from shedding tears,
that nothing might be witnessed worthy tears.
She sought the chamber where Aglauros slept,
and hastened to obey the God's behest.
She touched the maiden's bosom with her hands,
foul with corrupting stains, and pierced her heart
with jagged thorns, and breathed upon her face
a noxious venom; and distilled through all
the marrow of her bones, and in her lungs,
a poison blacker than the ooze of pitch.
And lest the canker of her poisoned soul
might spread unchecked throughout increasing space,
she caused a vision of her sister's form
to rise before her, happy with the God
who shone in his celestial beauty. All
appeared more beautiful than real life.—
when the most wretched daughter of Cecrops
had seen the vision secret torment seized
on all her vitals; and she groaned aloud,
tormented by her frenzy day and night.
A slow consumption wasted her away,
as ice is melted by the slant sunbeam,
when the cool clouds are flitting in the sky.
If she but thought of Herse's happiness
she burned, as thorny bushes are consumed
with smoldering embers under steaming stems.
She could not bear to see her sister's joy,
and longed for death, an end of misery;
or schemed to end the torture of her mind
by telling all she knew in shameful words,
whispered to her austere and upright sire.
But after many agonizing hours,
she sat before the threshold of their home
to intercept the God, who as he neared
spoke softly in smooth blandishment.
“Enough,” she said, “I will not move from here
until thou hast departed from my sight.”
“Let us adhere to that which was agreed.”
Rejoined the graceful-formed Cyllenian God,
who as he spoke thrust open with a touch
of his compelling wand the carved door.
But when she made an effort to arise,
her thighs felt heavy, rigid and benumbed;
and as she struggled to arise her knees
were stiffened? and her nails turned pale and cold;
her veins grew pallid as the blood congealed.
And even as the dreaded cancer spreads
through all the body, adding to its taint
the flesh uninjured; so, a deadly chill
entered by slow degrees her breast, and stopped
her breathing, and the passages of life.
She did not try to speak, but had she made
an effort to complain there was not left
a passage for her voice. Her neck was changed
to rigid stone, her countenance felt hard;
she sat a bloodless statue, but of stone
not marble-white—her mind had stained it black.

> Latin: Hinc se sustulerat paribus caducifer alis,
Munychiosque volans agros gratamque Minervae
despectabat humum cultique arbusta Lycei.
Illa forte die castae de more puellae
vertice supposito festas in Palladis arces
pura coronatis portabant sacra canistris.
Inde revertentes deus adspicit ales iterque
non agit in rectum, sed in orbem curvat eundem.
Ut volucris visis rapidissima miluus extis,
dum timet et densi circumstant sacra ministri,
flectitur in gyrum nec longius audet abire
spemque suam motis avidus circumvolat alis,
sic super Actaeas agilis Cyllenius arces
inclinat cursus et easdem circinat auras.
Quanto splendidior quam cetera sidera fulget
Lucifer, et quanto quam Lucifer aurea Phoebe,
tanto virginibus praestantior omnibus Herse
ibat, eratque decus pompae comitumque suarum.
Obstipuit forma Iove natus, et aethere pendens
non secus exarsit, quam cum Balearica plumbum
funda iacit: volat illud et incandescit eundo
et quos non habuit, sub nubibus invenit ignes.
Vertit iter caeloque petit terrena relicto
nec se dissimulat: tanta est fiducia formae.
Quae quamquam iusta est, cura tamen adiuvat illam
permulcetque comas chlamydemque, ut pendeat apte,
collocat, ut limbus totumque appareat aurum,
ut teres in dextra, qua somnos ducit et arcet,
virga sit, ut tersis niteant talaria plantis.
Pars secreta domus ebore et testudine cultos
tres habuit thalamos: quorum tu, Pandrose, dextrum,
Aglauros laevum, medium possederat Herse.
Quae tenuit laevum, venientem prima notavit
Mercurium nomenque dei scitarier ausa est
et causam adventus. Cui sic respondit Atlantis
Pleionesque nepos: “Ego sum, qui iussa per auras
verba patris porto: pater est mihi Iuppiter ipse.
Nec fingam causas; tu tantum fida sorori
esse velis prolisque meae matertera dici.
Herse causa viae. Faveas oramus amanti.”
Adspicit hunc oculis isdem, quibus abdita nuper
viderat Aglauros flavae secreta Minervae,
proque ministerio magni sibi ponderis aurum
postulat: interea tectis excedere cogit.
Vertit ad hanc torvi dea bellica luminis orbem
et tanto penitus traxit suspiria motu,
ut pariter pectus positamque in pectore forti
aegida concuteret. Subit, hanc arcana profana
detexisse manu tum cum sine matre creatam
Lemnicolae stirpem contra data foedera vidit,
et gratamque deo fore iam gratamque sorori
et ditem sumpto, quod avara poposcerat, auro.
Protinus Invidiae nigro squalentia tabo
tecta petit. Domus est imis in vallibus huius
abdita, sole carens, non ulli pervia vento,
tristis et ignavi plenissima frigoris, et quae
igne vacet semper, caligine semper abundet.
Huc ubi pervenit belli metuenda virago,
constitit ante domum (neque enim succedere tectis
fas habet) et postes extrema cuspide pulsat.
Concussae patuere fores. Videt intus edentem
vipereas carnes, vitiorum alimenta suorum,
Invidiam, visaque oculos avertit. At illa
surgit humo pigre semesarumque relinquit
corpora serpentum passuque incedit inerti;
utque deam vidit formaque armisque decoram,
ingemuit vultumque ima ad suspiria duxit.
Pallor in ore sedet, macies in corpore toto,
nusquam recta acies, livent rubigine dentes,
pectora felle virent, lingua est suffusa veneno.
Risus abest, nisi quem visi movere dolores.
Nec fruitur somno, vigilacibus excita curis,
sed videt ingratos intabescitque videndo
successus hominum, carpitque et carpitur una,
suppliciumque suum est. Quamvis tamen oderat illam,
talibus adfata est breviter Tritonia dictis:
“Infice tabe tua natarum Cecropis unam.
Sic opus est. Aglauros ea est.” Haud plura locuta
fugit et impressa tellurem reppulit hasta.
Illa deam obliquo fugientem lumine cernens
murmura parva dedit, successurumque Minervae
indoluit, baculumque capit, quod spinea totum
vincula cingebant, adopertaque nubibus atris,
quacumque ingreditur, florentia proterit arva
exuritque herbas et summa cacumina carpit,
adflatuque suo populos urbesque domosque
polluit. Et tandem Tritonida conspicit arcem
ingeniis opibusque et festa pace virentem,
vixque tenet lacrimas, quia nil lacrimabile cernit.
Sed postquam thalamos intravit Cecrope natae,
iussa facit pectusque manu ferrugine tincta
tangit et hamatis praecordia sentibus implet,
inspiratque nocens virus, piceumque per ossa
dissipat et medio spargit pulmone venenum.
Neve mali causae spatium per latius errent,
germanam ante oculos fortunatumque sororis
coniugium pulchraque deum sub imagine ponit,
cunctaque magna facit. Quibus inritata dolore
Cecropis occulto mordetur et anxia nocte,
anxia luce gemit, lentaque miserrima tabe
liquitur ut glacies incerto saucia sole.
Felicisque bonis non lenius uritur Herses,
quam cum spinosis ignis supponitur herbis,
quae neque dant flammas lenique tepore cremantur.
Saepe mori voluit, ne quicquam tale videret,
saepe velut crimen rigido narrare parenti;
denique in adverso venientem limine sedit
exclusura deum. Cui blandimenta precesque
verbaque iactanti mitissima “desine” dixit:
“hinc ego me non sum nisi te motura repulso.”
“Stemus” ait “pacto” velox Cyllenius “isto”:
caelestique fores virga patefecit. At illi
surgere conanti partes, quascumque sedendo
flectimus, ignava nequeunt gravitate moveri.
Illa quidem pugnat recto se attollere trunco,
sed genuum iunctura riget, frigusque per inguen
labitur, et callent amisso sanguine venae.
Utque malum late solet inmedicabile cancer
serpere et inlaesas vitiatis addere partes,
sic letalis hiems paulatim in pectora venit
vitalesque vias et respiramina clausit.
Nec conata loqui est, nec, si conata fuisset,
vocis habebat iter: saxum iam colla tenebat,
oraque duruerant, signumque exsangue sedebat.
Nec lapis albus erat: sua mens infecerat illam.

[¶5] So from the land of Pallas went the God,
his great revenge accomplished on the head
of impious Aglauros; and he soared
on waving wings into the opened skies:
and there his father called him to his side,
and said,—with words to hide his passion;—Son,—
thou faithful minister of my commands.—
let naught delay thee—swiftly take the way,
accustomed, to the land of Sidon (which
adores thy mother's star upon the left)
when there, drive over to the sounding shore
that royal herd, which far away is fed
on mountain grass.—
he spoke, and instantly
the herd was driven from the mountain side;
then headed for the shore, as Jove desired,—
to where the great king's daughter often went
in play, attended by the maids of Tyre.—
can love abide the majesty of kings?
Love cannot always dwell upon a throne.—
Jove laid aside his glorious dignity,
for he assumed the semblance of a bull
and mingled with the bullocks in the groves,
his colour white as virgin snow, untrod,
unmelted by the watery Southern Wind.
His neck was thick with muscles, dewlaps hung
between his shoulders; and his polished horns,
so small and beautifully set, appeared
the artifice of man; fashioned as fair
and more transparent than a lucent gem.
His forehead was not lowered for attack,
nor was there fury in his open eyes;
the love of peace was in his countenance.
When she beheld his beauty and mild eyes,
the daughter of Agenor was amazed;
but, daring not to touch him, stood apart
until her virgin fears were quieted;
then, near him, fragrant flowers in her hand
she offered,—tempting, to his gentle mouth:
and then the loving god in his great joy
kissed her sweet hands, and could not wait her will.
Jove then began to frisk upon the grass,
or laid his snow-white side on the smooth sand,
yellow and golden. As her courage grew
he gave his breast one moment for caress,
or bent his head for garlands newly made,
wreathed for his polished horns.
The royal maid,
unwitting what she did, at length sat down
upon the bull's broad back. Then by degrees
the god moved from the land and from the shore,
and placed his feet, that seemed but shining hoofs,
in shallow water by the sandy merge;
and not a moment resting bore her thence,
across the surface of the Middle Sea,
while she affrighted gazed upon the shore—
so fast receding. And she held his horn
with her right hand, and, steadied by the left,
held on his ample back—and in the breeze
her waving garments fluttered as they went.

> Latin: Has ubi verborum poenas mentisque profanae
cepit Atlantiades, dictas a Pallade terras
linquit et ingreditur iactatis aethera pennis.
Sevocat hunc genitor. Nec causam fassus amoris
“fide minister” ait “iussorum, nate, meorum,
pelle moram solitoque celer delabere cursu,
quaeque tuam matrem tellus a parte sinistra
suspicit (indigenae Sidonida nomine dicunt),
hanc pete, quodque procul montano gramine pasci
armentum regale vides, ad litora verte.”
Dixit, et expulsi iamdudum monte iuvenci
litora iussa petunt, ubi magni filia regis
ludere virginibus Tyriis comitata solebat.
Non bene conveniunt nec in una sede morantur
maiestas et amor: sceptri gravitate relicta
ille pater rectorque deum, cui dextra trisulcis
ignibus armata est, qui nutu concutit orbem,
induitur faciem tauri mixtusque iuvencis
mugit et in teneris formosus obambulat herbis.
Quippe color nivis est, quam nec vestigia duri
calcavere pedis nec solvit aquaticus auster.
Colla toris exstant, armis palearia pendent,
cornua parva quidem, sed quae contendere possis
facta manu, puraque magis perlucida gemma.
Nullae in fronte minae, nec formidabile lumen;
pacem vultus habet. Miratur Agenore nata,
quod tam formosus, quod proelia nulla minetur.
Sed quamvis mitem metuit contingere primo:
mox adit et flores ad candida porrigit ora.
Gaudet amans et, dum veniat sperata voluptas,
oscula dat manibus; vix iam, vix cetera differt.
Et nunc adludit viridique exsultat in herba,
nunc latus in fulvis niveum deponit harenis;
paulatimque metu dempto modo pectora praebet
virginea plaudenda manu, modo cornua sertis
impedienda novis. Ausa est quoque regia virgo
nescia quem premeret, tergo considere tauri,
cum deus a terra siccoque a litore sensim
falsa pedum primis vestigia ponit in undis:
inde abit ulterius mediique per aequora ponti
fert praedam. Pavet haec litusque ablata relictum
respicit, et dextra cornum tenet, altera dorso
imposita est; tremulae sinuantur flamine vestes.