Thursday 24 May 2018

OVID: "METAMORPHOSES": BOOK V

Introduction:

For an introduction to Ovid and the work as a whole, the reader is invited to look at the translation of "Metamorphoses" Book I, published on this blog on 1st February 2018.


Book V, translated below, focuses in particular on the song of the Muses which describes the rape of Proserpina, and contains the following contents: i) Perseus' fight in the place of Cepheus; ii) Minerva meets the Muses on Mount Helicon, iii) the singing contest between the Muses and the Pierides; iv) Calliope sings of the rape of Proserpina; v) Ceres searches for her daughter; vi) the transformation of Arethusa; vii) Triptolemus; viii) the fate of the Pierides.

Ll. 1-29.  Phineus seeks revenge for the loss of his bride. 


While that demi-god, the son of Danaë (i.e. Perseus), is recalling these (events) in the midst of the company of the Cephenes (i.e. Ethiopian chieftains), the royal halls are filled by an unruly crowd: nor is it the noise of the wedding feast that rings out, but (that) which announces (the use of) savage arms. You could liken the festivities being turned to sudden confusion to a sea, the calmness of which the fierce raging of the winds makes rough with rising waves. 

Phineus (i.e. the brother of Cepheus), a rash agent of strife, (is) foremost in (all) this, shaking his spear with its bronze tip. "See," he says, "see, I am here, to avenge my wife being carried off, (and) your wings will not rescue you from me, nor (will) Jupiter, (even if he is) changed into (a shower of) false gold." (To him) as he prepared to hurl (his spear), Cepheus cries out, "What are you doing? What feeling drives you, brother, in your madness to (perform) this crime? Are these the thanks being returned (by you) for such greatly merited (services)? Do you repay the life of a rescued (woman) with a dowry such as this? If you want to know the truth, (it was) not Perseus (who) took her from you, but the stern god of the Nereids (i.e. Neptune), and horned Ammon (i.e. an Egyptian and Libyan deity worshipped in the form of a ram's head, and identified with Jupiter/ Zeus), and that monster that came from the deep to glut itself on my flesh and blood. (It was) at that moment, when she was about to die, that she was taken from you: but, perhaps, in your cruelty, you want that very (thing), that she should die, and you will take comfort from my grief. Of course, it is not enough that she was fettered (there) with you watching, and that you brought her no help, (you), her uncle and her betrothed: furthermore, will you grieve that she was rescued by someone (else), and would you take away his reward? If it seemed so great (a prize) to you, you should have sought (her) among those rocks, where she had been fastened. Now, let (the man) who did seek (her), and on whose account this old age of mine (will) not (be) destitute, take what has been agreed through his merits and my word, and may you understand that (it is) not him, but (the prospect) of certain death (that has) displaced you!"


Ll. 30-73.  The fight: the death of Athis.

He (i.e. Phineus) (says) nothing in reply: but, glancing at him and Perseus with alternate looks, he does not know (whether) to aim at one or the other, and, (after) hesitating briefly, he hurled his spear with such force as rage inspired, but threw (it) at Perseus without success. When it stuck fast in his couch, then at last did Perseus leap up from his seat; returning the weapon fiercely, he would have pierced his enemy's chest, if Phineus had not dodged behind the altar: and - (O) the shame of it! -  the altar was of service to that scoundrel. Still, the javelin (was) not without effect, and stuck in Rhoetus' forehead. He fell, and, when the weapon had been pulled out of the bone, he kicks out and sprays the tables (which had been) placed (there) with his blood. Then, indeed, the rabble is on fire with ungovernable rage, and they fling their spears together, and there are (some) who say that Cepheus and his son-in-law ought to die. But Cepheus had (already) crossed over the threshold of his palace, calling upon justice, and faith and the gods of hospitality to witness that these (things) were being done when he had forbidden (them).

Warlike Pallas (i.e. Minerva) is there, and protects her brother (i.e. Perseus) with her aegis, and gives (him) courage. (Also there) was Athis, an Indian (youth), to whom, it is believed, Limnaee, a daughter of the river Ganges, had given birth under its glassy waters; (he was) outstanding in his beauty, which he enhanced by his rich costume, (he was) still unimpaired by his sixteen years, and (he was) clad in a Tyrian (i.e. purple-coloured) cloak, which a golden fringe enveloped; a gold necklace adorned his neck, and a curved hair-pin his myrrh-drenched locks. Now, he was skilled at piercing (things), even at a distance, with a javelin (which he had) launched, but he was (even) more skilled at bending bows. So then, while he was bending the pliant bow-tips in his hand, Perseus knocked (him) down with a log, which was smouldering (while) being placed in the middle of the altar, and shattered his face into splintered bones.

When the Assyrian Lycabas, most (closely) attached to him (as) a companion, and not concealing the truth of his love (for him), saw him, shaking his (much) praised features in blood, (and) when he had wept bitterly for Athis, as he was breathing out his life under that harsh wound, he caught up the bow which he had strung, and said: "Let there be a contest between you and me. You will not rejoice for long over the fate of that boy, (something) for which you win more ill-will than praise." He had not yet finished saying all these (things), (when) a sharp arrow shot out from the bow-string, but he avoided (it), and it was left hanging from his sinuous clothing. Acrisius' grandson (i.e. Perseus)  turns against him that scimitar (which had been) tested in the killing of Medusa, and drives (it) into his chest: but he, now dying, with his eyes swimming in that dark night, looked round for Athis, and fell next to him, and took to the shades the solace of being joined (with him) in death. 

Ll. 74-106.  The fight: the death of Idas, Chromis and others.

Behold, Phorbas of Syene, the son of Metion, and Libyan Amphimedon, eager to engage in the fight, had fallen, having slipped in the blood, by which the drenched earth was warm in all directions: the sword stopped (them), as they arose, and was driven through Phorbas' throat and the other's (i.e. Amphimedon's) ribs. But Perseus did not go for Eurytus, the son of Actor, with his hooked sword, as his weapon was a broad battle-axe, but he lifts in the air with both of his hands a huge mixing-bowl, embossed with decorations and very heavy in weight, and dashes (it) down on to the man; he spews red blood, and, lying on his back, he beats the ground with his dying head. Then he (i.e. Perseus) overthrows Polydegmon, born of the blood of Semiramis (i.e. a queen of Babylon), Caucasian Abaris, Lycetus from the (region of the) Spercheos (i.e. a river in Thessaly), Helices with his unshorn hair, Phlegyas and Clytus, and he tramples on a mounting heap of dying (men).

Phineus, not daring to confront his enemy hand-to-hand, throws his javelin, which brought down Idas by mistake, (a man) who, unavailingly, had no part in the battle, and (had) followed the arms of neither (side). He, looking at the harsh Phineus with wild eyes, says, "Seeing that I am forced to (take) sides, accept, Phineus, the enemy whom you have made, and for this wound receive a wound in recompense!" And, then, (as he was) about to hurl back the dart (which he had) drawn from his body, he collapsed on to his knees, and, drained of blood, he died.

Then, too, Hodites, after the king the foremost of the Cephenes, falls by the sword of Clymenus; Hypseus kills Prothoënor, the descendant of Lynceus (i.e. Perseus) (kills) Hypseus. There was also among them a very old man (called) Emathion, an upholder of justice and a god-fearing (man); since his age prevents (him) from fighting in the battle, he fights with words, and he intervenes and curses their impious weapons. As he clings to the altar with trembling hands, Chromis cuts off his head with a sword; it falls straight on to the altar, and there the half-living tongue uttered words of imprecation and gave up its life in the midst of the flames.

Ll. 107-148.  The fight: Lampetides, Dorylas and others.

Then, two brothers fell by the hand of Phineus, Broteas and Ammon, invincible in their boxing-gloves, if (only) the sword could be vanquished by boxing-gloves, and (so did) Ampycus, priest of Ceres, his temples wreathed with a white fillet. You, too, Lampetides (were cut down), (you who had) not been summoned for this purpose (i.e. to fight) but to accompany the lute with your voice, the work of peace, (and) you had been ordered to celebrate the bridal feast and festival by your singing. Pedasus mockingly said to him, as he stood aside holding his unwarlike plectrum, "(Go and) sing the rest (of your ditties) to the Stygian shades!" and (then) he drove the point of his sword into his left temple. And, (as) he falls, he tries (to pluck) again the strings of his lyre with his dying fingers, and in his fall a mournful note was (heard).

The spirited Lycormas does not let him (i.e. Lampetides) die with impunity, but, grasping some hard bolts from the right(-hand) door-post, he dashed (these) into the middle of his neck bones: and he (i.e. Pedasus) fell to the ground like a slaughtered bullock. Pelates, from the banks of the Cinyps (i.e. an African river) also tried to remove the oak from the left(-hand) door-post: while he was attempting (to do this), his right (hand) was transfixed by the spear of Corythus of Marmorica (i.e. a place in Africa), and he sticks fast to the wood. As he is fixed (there), Abas pierced (him in) the side: he does not sink (to the floor), but hung (there) from the door-post which kept a firm grip of his hand as he was dying. Then, Melaneus, a follower of Perseus' camp, is struck down, as is Dorylas, most wealthy in Nasamonian land (i.e. Libyan territory, south-west of Cyrenaïca), that Dorylas, than whom no one possessed more (land) or could raise up as many heaps of spice. A missile, hurled at his side, stuck in his groin: this (was) a fatal spot. When the perpetrator of the wound, the Bactrian Halcyoneus, saw him gasping out his life and rolling his eyes, he says, "Of all your fields of earth, you shall keep (only) this, (the piece) upon which you lie," and he left the lifeless body.  

(But) in revenge the descendant of Abas (i.e. Perseus) turns his spear against him (i.e. Halcyoneus) and ripped (it) from the warm wound; catching his nose, it passed through the middle of his neck, and sticks out in both directions. While Fortune helped his hand, he slew both Clytius and Clanis, born of one mother, by different wounds: for a heavy ashen spear, levelled by his arm, went through both Clytius' thighs, (while) Clanis bit a javelin with his mouth. Now dies Celadon of Mendes (i.e. a city in Egypt), now dies Astreus, born of a Palestinian (i.e. Syrian) mother and an unknown father, and Aethion, once quick to see the future - now deceived by a false omen - , and Thoactes, the king's armour-bearer, and Agyrtes, renowned for killing his father. 

Ll. 149-199.  Perseus uses the Gorgon's head. 

Yet, although (the man) is exhausted, more remains (to be done): for it is indeed the intention of all (of them) to overwhelm this one (man), and a band of conspirators confronts him on every side in a cause opposed to justice and good faith: his father-in-law (i.e. Cepheus), devoted (to him) in vain, and his new wife (i.e. Andromeda) and her mother (i.e. Cassiope) support (him) to the best of their ability, and fill the hall with their cries. But the clash of weapons and the groans of those who have fallen drown (them) out, and, at the same time, Bellona (i.e. the Goddess of War) pollutes and drenches the Penates (i.e. the Household Gods) in much blood, and embroils (them all) in renewed conflict. Phineus, and a thousand followers of Phineus, surround this one (man): spears, thicker than winter hail, fly past (him) on both sides, and past both his eyes and his ears. He places his shoulders close to the rock of a great pillar, thus making his back safe, and, turning towards the opposing crowd (of men), he withstands (those who are) threatening (him). On his left, the Chaonian (i.e. Chaonia is a region of Epirus) Molpeus pressed (him), (and,) on his right, the Nabatean (i.e. Arabian) Echemon. Like a tiger, goaded on by hunger, who hearing the lowing of two herds (of cattle) in separate valleys, does not know which which one it would rather rush at, and burns to rush at each of them, so Perseus, uncertain (whether) to strike on his right or his left, drives off Molpeus, piercing (him) with a wound to his leg, and is satisfied with his flight: but Echemon  gives (him) no time, but rages, and, eager to give (him) a wound in the top of his neck, and thrusting his sword around with no carefully considered force, he shattered (it), and the blade, having struck the extreme edge of the pillar, broke off, and became fixed in its owner's throat. However, the wound it gave (him) is not serious enough to (be) the cause of his death: as he anxiously stretches forth his defenceless arms, Perseus stabs (him) with the Cyllenian's (i.e. belonging to Mercury, who was born on Mount Cyllene in Arcadia) scimitar.

When Perseus saw that his valour would succumb to the multitude, he said, "Since you, yourselves, are planning (it) thus, I shall seek help from the enemy. If any friend is here, turn your face away!" Then he held out the Gorgon's face. "Try to find someone else, whom your miracles might impress," said Thescelus; but as he was preparing to hurl the deadly javelin with his hand, he is stuck in this posture (like) a statue of marble. Next to him, Ampyx thrusts with his sword at the breast of the descendant of Lynceus (i.e. Perseus) so very full, (as it is,) of his mighty spirit; and, in thrusting, his right(-hand) stiffened, nor could it move one way or the other. But Nileus, who had pretended that he was born of the Nile with its seven mouths, (and) had also engraved the seven streams on his shield, part in silver and part in gold, cries "See Perseus, the origins of my people: (it will be) a great consolation (to you) in your death that you will take (with you) to the silent shades (the knowledge) that you have been killed by so noble a man": the final part of his speech was cut off in mid-sentence, and you might believe that his wide-open mouth (still) wished to speak, but it was no longer accessible to words.

Eryx rebukes them, and he says, "You are stiffened by a lack of courage, not by the power of the Gorgon: charge in with me, and knock this young man to the ground, as he moves his magic weapons!" He was about to charge in: (but) the earth restrained his footsteps, and (there) he stayed, immovable stone and an armed statue.

Ll. 200-249.  Phineus is turned to stone. 

Still, they (all) suffered their punishment deservedly; but there was one of Perseus' soldiers, Aconteus (by name), (who) while he was fighting on his behalf, saw the Gorgon's (head), and took the shape of an upright stone. Thinking he was still alive, Astyages strikes him with a long sword: the blade gave a high-pitched ringing sound. While Astyages stood (there) stupefied, he acquired the same nature (i.e. he turned to stone), and a look of wonder remains on his marble face.

It would take a long time to tell the names of the warriors (coming) from the midst of the people: two hundred persons survived the fight; two hundred persons hardened (into stone) at the sight of the Gorgon's (head).

Now, at last, Phineus regrets the unjust fighting. But what can he do (about it)? He sees the different statues of the figures, and recognises his own (men), and, calling each one by name, he asks for his help, and, scarcely believing, he touches the bodies (which are) nearest to him: they were marble. He looks away, and so, stretching out his arms from his sides in supplication, and his hands in acknowledgement, he says, "Perseus, you have won. Remove that monstrous (thing) of yours, and your face, which turns (men) to stone, and take away that (face) of Medusa, whoever she (is), take (it) away, I beg (you). (It was) not hate or the desire for a kingdom that drove me to war: I took up arms to (win) a bride. Your claim was better by merit, mine by precedence. I don't regret ending (it). (O) bravest of men, concede nothing to me, except my life: let everything else be yours."

As he was saying these (things), (while) not daring to look back at him, to whom he was addressing his words, he (i.e. Perseus) says (to him), "(O) most cowardly Phineus, - set aside your fear - , I shall grant both what I can grant, and (what) is a great gift to the fearful, that you will not be violated by the sword. Rather, I shall even grant that (you become) an enduring monument throughout the ages, and that you will always be seen in my father-in-law's palace, so that my wife may console herself with the statue of her betrothed.

He spoke, and conveyed (the head of) Phorcys' daughter (i.e. Medusa) to that place, towards which Phineus had directed his trembling face. Then, as he still tried to avert his gaze, his neck became stiff and the tears in his eyes hardened into stone. But now his frightened face, and the look of a suppliant, and his submissive hands, and his guilty appearance remained.

The victorious descendant of Abas (i.e. Perseus) enters the walls of his ancestral (city) (i.e. Argos) with his bride (i.e. Andromeda), and, (as) the champion and avenger of his undeserving grandfather (i.e. Acrisius), he attacks Proetus: for Proetus had occupied Acrisius' stronghold by (force of) arms, his brother having been put to flight. But neither by force of arms, nor through the stronghold which he had (so) wickedly taken, could he overcome the fierce gaze of the snake-infested monster (i.e. Medusa).

Yet, neither the young man's virtue, visible in so many of his labours, nor his sufferings, had softened you, O Polydectes, king of tiny Seriphos, but, in your harshness, you nurse an unrelenting hatred (of him), and there is no limit to your anger (N.B. Polydectes hated Perseus, because he had stopped him marrying his mother Danaë). You even disparage his reputation, and you claim that his killing of Medusa is a lie. "I shall give you evidence of its truth!" (So) speaks Perseus, and with the face of Medusa he turned the face of the king into bloodless stone.

Ll. 250-293.  Minerva on Mount Helicon.

Thus far, Tritonia (i.e. Minerva) has given herself (as) a companion to this brother of hers who had been conceived in a shower of gold  (i.e. Perseus): but now, enclosed in a hollow cloud, she abandons Seriphos, and, leaving Cythnus and Gyarus behind on her right, she heads for Thebes and (Mount) Helicon, (the home) of the virgins (i.e. the nine Muses), crossing the sea by the shortest route. Having reached this mountain, she alighted (there) and addressed her learned sisters thus: "Talk of a new fountain has come to my ears, (one) which the hard hooves of that winged (offspring) of Medusa (i.e. Pegasus, the flying horse) has opened up (i.e. the fountain of Hippocrene). That (is) the reason for my journey. I wanted to see this wonderful creation: I saw this very (creature) being born from his mother's blood."

Urania (i.e. the Muse of Astronomy) speaks next: "Whatever is your reason (for coming) to see this dwelling of ours, goddess, you are most dear to our hearts. Still, the story is a true (one), and Pegasus is the source of this fountain of ours," and she led Pallas to its sacred waters. She marvels for a long time at this stream made by the blows of the (horses) hooves, (and) looks around at the groves of ancient woodlands, and the caves, and the grass adorned with countless flowers, and she says that the daughters of Mnemosyne (i.e. the nine Muses) are equally lucky in their pursuits and their (dwelling) place; (then,) one of the sisters addressed her thus: "O Tritonia (i.e. Minerva), (you who) would have been a member of our choir, if your virtue had not taken you to greater work, you speak the truth and rightly approve our arts and our haunts, and we should have a happy lot (if) only we were safe. But - for nothing is forbidden to the wicked - all (things) frighten our virginal minds, and the ill-omened Pyreneus (i.e. a king of Thrace) is there before my eyes, and my mind has not yet totally recovered. That fierce (man) had captured Daulis and the lands of Phocis with his Thracian army, and was holding the kingdom unjustly. We were making for the shrines of (Mount) Parnassus: he saw (us) going by, and, (appearing to) venerate our divinity with a deceitful expression, he said, 'Daughters of Mnemosyne - for he knew us - , do not be in doubt! I beg (you) to avoid the lowering skies and the rain - (for) it was raining -  (by sheltering) in my house: the gods have often entered humbler dwellings.' Persuaded by his words and by the weather, we gave the man our assent, and went in to the entrance hall of his palace. The rain stopped, and the south wind was overcome by north winds, and the dark clouds fled from the newly cleared sky. We had an impulse to go; (but) Pyreneus shuts up his house, and prepares for violence. We (only) escape this by taking to our wings. He, himself, stood on a lofty height, as if he would follow (us), and said, 'Whatever way is yours, the same will be mine as well,' and he foolishly throws himself from the roof of the highest tower, and falls on his head, and, the bones of his skull being shattered, he beats the ground as he dies, and stains (it) with his evil blood."

Ll. 294-331.  The contest between the Pierides (i.e. the daughters of Pierus) and the Muses. 

The Muse (i.e. Urania) was speaking: wings sounded in the air, and voices of greeting came from the branches. Jupiter's daughter (i.e. Minerva) looks up and asks where those sounds were coming from that (were) so like talking tongues, and she thought it was a man speaking; (but in fact) it was a bird, and up to nine magpies, (birds) that imitate everything, had settled in the branches, bemoaning their fate. While the goddess (i.e. Minerva) wondered, the other goddess (i.e. Urania) began (to speak) thus: "Having been defeated in a contest, they have recently augmented the flock of birds. Pierus of Pella, rich in fields (i.e. King of Emathia, a district of Macedonia), fathered them and Paeonian (i.e. Paeonia was an area in Northern Macedonia) Euippe was their mother. Giving birth nine times, she invoked Lucina (i.e. the Roman Goddess of Childbirth, identified with Juno) nine times. This gang of stupid sisters were puffed up with pride at their number, and comes (to us) here across so many Achaean and Harmonian (i.e. Thessalian) cities, and engages (us) in a competition with these words: 'Stop cheating the untutored masses with your false sweetness: if you have any faith (in yourselves) contend with us, (you) goddesses of Thespiae (i.e. a city near Mount Helicon, a haunt of the Muses). We cannot be outdone in either voice or art, and we are your equals in number.  If defeated, you can grant (us) the fountain of Medusa's offspring (i.e. Hippocrene, that sprung up from under the hooves of Pegasus) and Hyantean (i.e. Boeotian) Aganippe (N.B. Hippocrene and Aganippe were fountains on Mount Helicon, frequented by the Muses), or, (if) we (lose), we shall grant (you) the Emathian plains as far as snowy Paeonia. Let the nymphs determine (the outcome of) the contest.'

"It was, indeed, shameful to compete (with them), but it seemed more shameful to concede. The nymphs are elected, and swear by their streams (to judge fairly), and they sat down on seats made out of natural rock. Then, without lots (being drawn), (the one) who had first declared that they should compete sings of the war with the gods, and assigns the Giants false honours and diminishes the great deeds of the mighty gods; and (of how) Typhoeus (i.e. a hundred-handed Giant, one of the sons of Earth) came forth from the depths of his abode in the earth, and created fear in (the minds of) the gods, and (how) they all turned their backs in flight, until the land of Egypt and the (River) Nile, divided (as it is) into seven mouths, received (them) in their exhaustion. She tells (how) earth-born Typhoeus came there as well, and (how) the gods concealed themselves in disguised forms; 'Jupiter,' she said, 'is made into the head of the flock (i.e. a ram); then, even now, Libyan Ammon is shaped with curving horns. The Delian (i.e. Apollo) is concealed as a crow, Semele's offspring (i.e. Bacchus) a goat, Phoebus' sister (i.e. Diana) a cat, Saturn's daughter (i.e. Juno) a snow-white cow, Venus a fish, and the Cyllenian (i.e. Mercury) a winged ibis.'

Ll. 332-384.  Calliope sings: 1) Cupid makes Dis fall in love. 

"Thus far had she (i.e. the daughter of Pierus) moved her noisy mouth to (the sound of) her lute. Then we, the Aonides (i.e. the Muses), are called upon. But perhaps you do not have the leisure, and you are not free to give your ears to our melodies."

"Do not worry, but relate your song to me in order," says Pallas, and she sat in the gentle shade of the grove.

The Muse (i.e. Urania) renews (her story): "We gave the full responsibility of the contest to one (person). Calliope (i.e. the Muse of Epic Poetry) arises, and, with her loose hair bound with ivy, she attunes the plaintiff chords with her fingers, and then with these sounding strings she accompanies this song:

" 'Ceres (was) the first (to) turn the soil with the hooked plough, she (was) the first (to) give to the earth its crops and its ripe nourishment, (and) she (was) the first (to) give (us) laws: all (things) are Ceres' gift. Of her I must sing. If only I could sing a song worthy of the goddess: the goddess is truly a worthy (subject) for my song.

" 'The vast island of Trinacria (i.e. Sicily) was heaped up over the giant's limbs, and with its great mass oppresses the subjected Typhoeus, (he who had) dared to aspire to an abode in the heavens. Yes, he struggles, and often strives to rise up, but his right-hand is held down by Ausonian Pelorus (i.e. a promontory on the north-east coast of Sicily), and his left(-hand) by you, Pachynus  (i.e. the south-eastern promontory of Sicily), (while) Lilybaeum (i.e. a promontory on the southern coast of Sicily) presses down on his legs, (and Mount) Etna (i.e. the volcanic mountain near the east coast of Sicily) weighs down his head; underneath this, flat on his back, the savage Typhoeus spits out sand and spews flames from his mouth. He often struggles to push off the weight of the earth, and to roll away the towns and the high mountains from his body. Then, the earth trembles, and even the king of the silent (lands) (i.e. Pluto or Dis) is struck with fear, lest he be exposed and the ground is split open by wide fissures, and (lest) the daylight (that is) let in should scare the shades (of the dead).

" 'Fearing such a disaster, the tyrant had left his shadowy abode, and, drawn in his chariot by black horses, he cautiously encircled the foundations of the Sicilian land. When it had been sufficiently checked that no places were collapsing, and he had set aside his fears, the (goddess) of Eryx (i.e. Venus) sees him wandering around, as she sat on her hillside, and embracing her winged son, she said, "Cupid, my son, (you who are) my weapons, and my hands (and) my power, take up those darts by which you overcome everyone, and let fly your swiftest arrows at the heart of the god, to whom fell the last (part) of the triple kingdom. You overcome the gods and Jupiter, himself, and the subdued powers of the sea, and the very (god) himself, who governs the powers of the sea (i.e. Neptune). Why is Tartarus left out? Why do you not extend your mother's empire and your own? A third part of the world is involved. And yet in heaven I am scorned, (something) which I have to endure, and the power of Love diminishes with me. Don't you see (how) Pallas and the huntress Diana forsake me? Ceres' daughter (i.e. Proserpina) will be a virgin too, if we allow (it): for hope disposes (her to be) the same as them.  But, if you have any delight in our shared realm, mate the goddess to her uncle." (So) spoke Venus. He (i.e. Cupid) unloosed his quiver, and, at his mother's bidding, selected one from a thousand arrows, but there was not any arrow (which was) sharper, or less uncertain or more attuned to the bow (than this one). Then, he bent the pliant tip against his knee, and, with his barbed arrow, he struck Dis in the heart.

Ll. 385-424.  Calliope sings: 2) Dis and the rape of Proserpina. 

" 'Not far from the walls of Enna (i.e. a Sicilian town), there is a pool of deep water. Caÿster (i.e. a river in Lydia, renowned for its swans) does not hear more songs than that of the swans gliding on its waves.  A wood encircles the waters, surrounding (them on) every side, and, with its leaves as a veil, it dispels the shafts of Phoebus (i.e. the midday sun). The branches provide coolness, and the moist soil purple flowers: it is always spring. While Proserpina plays in this glade, and picks either violets or white lilies, and, while with a girlish enthusiasm she fills both baskets and the fold (of her gown), and strives to outdo her contemporaries in her gathering, she is seen, beloved, and carried off by Dis almost simultaneously. So swift as this is love. The frightened goddess calls upon both her mother and her companions, but more often her mother, from her sorrowful mouth; and, as she had torn her dress from its upper edge, the flowers (she had) collected fell from her loosened tunic. And so great was the innocence of her childish years that this scattering caused her maidenly grief as well. The ravisher whips up his chariot, and encourages his steeds by calling each one by name, and he shakes out the reins, (which are) dyed in a dark rusty colour, over their necks and manes, and (drives them) through deep pools, and (through) the swamps of the Palici (i.e. the sons of Jupiter and the nymph Thalia), reeking of sulphur, it is said, and (still) hot from the ruptured earth, to (the place) (i.e. Syracuse), where the Bacchiadae (i.e. the descendants of Bacchis), a clan arising from Corinth with its two seas, established their city between two unequal harbours .


" 'Midway between (the fountains of) Cyane and Pisaean (i.e. Pisa was a city in Elis) Arethusa, there is a bay, which lies enclosed by narrow arms. Here lived Cyane, the best-known amongst the Sicilian nymphs. She emerged from the surface of the pool as far as the midst of her stomach, and she recognised the goddess (i.e. Proserpina). "Go no further!" she says. You (i.e. Dis) cannot be Ceres' son in-law against her will: you ought to have asked (her), and not to have dragged (her) away. But if it is right for me to compare small (things) with great (ones), Anapis also loved me, and yet I married (him), having been persuaded (by kind words), not by fear, like this." As she spoke, she stretched out her arms on either side, and obstructed (him). The son of Saturn (i.e. Dis) could not contain his wrath any further, and, urging on his dreaded horses, he brandished his royal sceptre in his powerful arm, and plunged (it) into the bottom of the pool. (Thus) pierced, the earth made a road to Tartarus, and received the chariot headlong into the midst of the crater.

Ll. 425-486.  Calliope sings: 3) Ceres searches for Proserpina.

" 'But Cyane, lamenting that the goddess has been raped and that the rights of her own fountain have been disregarded, silently bore an inconsolable pain in her heart, and she is entirely consumed with tears, and she wastes away in those waters, whose great deity she had just been. You could see her limbs becoming softened, her bones being allowed to bend, and her nails losing their hardness; first of all, all her slenderest (parts) dissolve, her azure hair, her fingers, and her legs and feet - for it is a small transition from fragile limbs to cool waters. After this, her shoulders, her back and sides, and her breasts slip away, vanishing into tenuous streams. At last, water enters her corrupted veins, and nothing which you can take hold of is left. Meanwhile, the daughter (i.e. Proserpina) is sought in vain by her anxious mother (i.e. Ceres) through all the earth and every sea. Neither the coming of Aurora (i.e. Dawn) with her dewy hair, nor Hesperus (i.e. the Evening Star), finds her resting. She kindled the fiery pines from (Mount) Etna, (and) bore (them) restlessly through the frosty darkness with both hands. When the kindly light of day had once more dimmed the stars, she continued to seek her daughter from the rising of the sun to the setting of the sun.

" 'Weary (as she was), she had acquired a thirst from her labours, and no springs had moistened her mouth, when she happened to see a hut, roofed with straw, and she knocked on its humble door: and then an old woman comes forward and sees the goddess, and, when she asks for water, she gave (her something) sweet, which she had previously brewed with parched barley-meal. While she drinks (what she has been) given, a boy with a rude face stood boldly before the goddess, and taunted (her) and called (her) greedy. The goddess was offended, and besprinkled (him), as he was speaking, with the part of the barley-meal mixed with water (which she had) not yet drunk. His face absorbs spots, and what he had just borne (as) arms, he (now) bears (as) legs; a tail is added to his altered limbs; and he shrinks to a tiny shape, so that he has no great power to harm, and he is measured (as) less than a small lizard. It flees from the old woman, as full of wonder and in tears, she tries to touch the creature, and it seeks a hiding-place, and it has a name (i.e. 'stellio', newt) suited to its colour, its body starred with many coloured spots.

" 'It would take too long a time to tell through what lands and what seas the goddess (i.e. Ceres) wandered; the whole world failed (her) in her search. She returns to Sicania (i.e. Sicily); and, while she traversed all (places) in her journey, she came to Cyane too. If she had not been changed, she would have told everything: but, although she wished to tell, no mouth or tongue were available (to her), nor did she have anything by which she could speak. Still, she gave clear signs, and shows on the surface of the waters Persephone's (i.e. Proserpina's) girdle, (which was) known to her mother and (which had) fallen, by chance, into the sacred pool in that place. As soon as she recognised it, as if she had then at last realised that (her daughter had been) raped, the goddess tore her dishevelled hair, and, repeatedly, beat her breasts with her hands. She still did not know where she (i.e. Proserpina) was: yet she rebukes all lands and calls (them) thankless and unworthy of her gift of corn, (and) Trinacria (i.e. Sicily) above (all) others, in which she had discovered the traces of her loss. So, in that place, with her cruel hands, she broke the ploughs that turn the soil, and she delivered the farmers and the cattle in the fields to death alike, and ordered the the fields to fail in their trust, and caused the seed to rot. That country's fertility, well-known throughout the wide world, becomes a fiction: the crops die in their first shoots, and firstly too much sun and then too much rain attacks (them), and the climate and the winds damage (them), and greedy birds gather up the scattered seed; darnel, and thistles, and tough grass destroy the wheat harvest.

Ll. 487-532.  Calliope sings: 4) Ceres asks for Jupiter's help.

" 'Then, the (nymph beloved) of Alpheus (i.e. Arethusa) raised her head out of the Elean waves and pushed back her dripping hair from her forehead to her ears, and says: "O mother of that virgin sought throughout the world, and (mother) of the crops, cease your tremendous labours, and do not let yourself get so violently angry with the faithful earth. The earth does not deserve (this) at all, and it was exposed to the rape against its will. Nor am I a suppliant on behalf of my native-land: I came here (as) a stranger; Pisa (i.e. a city in Elis near Olympia) is my country: now I, Arethusa, possess these household gods, this home: do you, O most gentle (one), preserve it for me. When you are relieved of cares and (have) a happier countenance, the right time will come for my narrative, why I am moved from my country and am conveyed to Ortygia (i.e. an island in the bay of Syracuse) across the waves of so great a sea. The fissured earth shows me a route, and, stealing my way beneath the deepest caverns, I lift up my head here and see the unfamiliar stars. So, while I glide beneath the earth through the Stygian stream, your Proserpina is seen there by my eyes. She (is) certainly sad, and her countenance still fearful, but yet (she is) a queen, and the greatest in the world of shadows, and still the powerful consort of the ruler of the Underworld."

" 'The mother (i.e. Ceres) was stunned, as if petrified at hearing these words, and for a long time was like (someone) thunderstruck. And, when her deep bewilderment is turned into deep grief, she mounts in her chariot to the heavenly realms. There, (as) she stood before Jupiter with her hair dishevelled, clouds of hatred (cover) her whole face, and she says: "Jupiter, I have come (as) a suppliant on behalf of my offspring, and on behalf of your own. If you have no favour towards the mother, let the daughter move her father, and let not your concern for her be any the less, I beg (you), because she was born through my delivery. Now look, my daughter, who has been sought for so long, has at last been found, if you call (it) finding (her), to lose (her) more surely, or if you call (it) finding (her) to know where she is. That she has been raped, I can bear, if only he would return her: for your daughter does not deserve (to have) a robber for a husband, (even) if she is no longer my daughter."

" 'Jupiter spoke next: " Our daughter is a shared pledge and charge between me and you. But, if only we are willing to give things their true names, this deed (is) not an outrage. Actually, it is love; nor would he (i.e. Dis) be a shameful son-in-law for us, (if) only you would wish (it), goddess. How great it is to be Jupiter's brother, even if (all) the rest is lacking! Why, what if nothing at all is lacking, except (what) he yielded to me by lot? But, if you have so great a desire to to separate (them), Proserpina will return to heaven, but on the fixed condition, that, (while) there, she has touched no food with her mouth; for so it is decreed by a law of the Parcae (i.e. the Fates).

Ll. 533-571.  Calliope sings: 5) Proserpina's fate.

" 'He finished speaking. Then Ceres was resolved to lead her daughter back (home). (But) the Fates do not allow (it), since the virgin had broken her fast, and, while she wandered innocently in some well-tended gardens, she had plucked a pomegranate fruit hanging from a tree, and, taking seven seeds from its pale rind, she had squeezed them into her mouth. Alone out of all (of them), Ascalaphus saw it, (he) whom, it is said, Ophne, not the least known among the nymphs of (Lake) Avernus (i.e. the lake which houses the entrance to the Underworld), had once borne to her Acheron (i.e. the god of one of the rivers in the Underworld) in the dark woods: he saw (it), and by his disclosure he cruelly prevented her return. The queen of Erebus (i.e. Proserpina) groaned, and turned the informant into a bird of ill-omen; she sprinkled his head with water from the (River) Phlegethon (i.e. one of the rivers of the Underworld), and changed (him) into a beak and feathers and a (pair of) huge eyes. He, having been robbed of his own (form), is covered in tawny wings, and his head grows (larger), and his long nails bend backwards, and he scarcely moves the wings (which are) growing on his idle arms: he becomes a hateful bird, a messenger of grief to come, the sluggish screech-owl, a dire omen to mortal (creatures).

Still, he can be seen to have merited his punishment through his disclosure and his words: (but) whence, (O) daughters of Acheloüs (i.e. the god of a river which separates Aetolia from Acarnania), (come) your birds' feathers and feet, when you (still) bear the faces of a maiden? Is it because you, (as) Sirens, skilled (in song), were among the number of her companions, when Proserpina was gathering spring flowers? When you had sought her in vain across the whole of the world, then you wanted to be able to waft over the waves with the oars of wings, so that the sea might feel your anxiety, and you had approachable gods, and you saw your limbs suddenly become golden with feathers. Yet, lest that song of yours, born to our delighted ears, and that great gift of your mouth, might not lose the use of a tongue, each virgin face and human voice remained.

Then, Jupiter (caught) between his brother (i.e. Dis) and his grieving sister (i.e. Ceres), divides the revolving year into (two) equal parts. And now, the goddess, that shared divinity of two realms (i.e. Proserpina), is with her mother for as many months as (she is) with her husband (i.e. six months each). In a moment the feeling in her mind and the look on her face is changed. For now the face of the goddess (i.e. Proserpina), which could even appear sad to Dis, is joyful, just like the sun, which, has previously been hidden by rain-clouds, (when) he leaves the clouds (which he has) overcome.

Ll. 572-641.  Calliope sings: 6) Arethusa's story.

" 'The kindly Ceres, secure in her daughter's return, asks what (was) the cause of your flight, Arethusa, (and) why you are (now) a sacred fountain. The waters fell silent: their goddess lifted her head from the deep spring, and, wringing her sea-green hair in her hands, she told of the loves of that river of Elis (i.e. Alpheus).

" ' "I was one of the nymphs who live in Achaea,said she. "None was keener to traverse the woodlands than I was, and no one (was) keener to set out the nets.  But, although I never sought renown for my beauty, and, although I was steadfast (on that account), I had the name of the beautiful (one). Nor were my looks, too often praised (as they were), pleasing to me, and I blushed (like) a country lass, at the gift of my body, at which other (girls) were accustomed to rejoice, and I thought (it) a sin to please. As I remember, I was returning tired from the Stymphalian (i.e. Arcadian) woods: it was hot and my efforts had redoubled the great heat. I come to waters without a ripple, running without a mumur, (and) clear to their bed, in the depths of which every pebble was able to be counted, (and) which you would scarcely think were moving. Silver willows and poplars, nourished by the water gave unaided a natural shade to the sloping banks. Approaching, I firstly dipped the soles of my feet (into the water), (and) then (I went) right up to my knees: not content with that, I undress, and drape my soft clothes on a bending willow, and plunge into the waters naked. While I splash and pull them (all over me), as I glide around in a thousand ways, and I shake my arms and throw (them) around, I heard a strange murmur in the middle of the stream, and, in my alarm, I make for the edge of the nearer bank. 'Where are you hurrying to, Arethusa?' (said) Alpheus from his waves. 'Where are you hurrying to?' he called to me in a strident voice. I flee just as I was, without my clothes: (for) the other bank had my clothes. So much the more (fiercely) he pursues (me) and he burns (with ardour), and, as I was naked, I seemed (to be) readier for him. (And) so I ran, (and) so he pursued me fiercely, as doves flee a hawk on trembling wings, and as a hawk is accustomed to pursue closely a frightened dove. I continued to run all the way to Orchomenus (i.e. a city in Boeotia), and Psophis (i.e. a city in Arcadia), and Cyllene (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia), and the ridges of Maenalus (i.e. a mountain range in Arcadia),  and chill Erymanthus (i.e. a river in Arcadia), and Elis; nor (was) he any quicker than I. But I could not endure the course for a long time, (being) unequal in strength (to him): he was able to endure a lengthy effort. Still, across the plains, across mountains covered with trees, (and over) rocks and crags as well, and where (there was) no path at all, I ran. The sun was at my back: I saw a long shadow stretch out before my feet, unless (it was) that fear of mine (that) saw (it); but certainly I feared the sound of his feet, and the deep breath from his mouth blew on the ribbons in my hair. Weary with the effort of escaping (him), I cry out, 'I am being taken, bring help to your armour-bearer, Diana, (I, the one) to whom you have often given your bow to carry, and the darts enclosed in your quiver.'

" ' "The goddess was moved, and gathering one from a (collection of) clouds, she threw (it) over me. The river(-god) circles around (me, who is) covered in mist, and, baffled (as he is), he searches (for me) around the hollow cloud. Twice, in his ignorance, he walks around the spot where the goddess had concealed me, and twice he called out, 'Ho there, Arethusa! Ho there, Arethusa!' What feelings did I, in my wretchedness, have then? Is it what the lamb feels, when it hears the wolves howling around its steep sheep-fold, or (what) the hare (feels), when, hiding in a briar-patch, it sees the hostile muzzles of the dogs, and does not dare to make any movements of its body? Yet, he did not go away: for he does not see any traces of my feet further on: he watches the cloud and the spot. A cold sweat takes hold of my besieged limbs, and dark-blue drops trickle from every (part of) my body, and, wherever I moved my foot, a pool gathers and moisture drips from my hair, and, faster than I can now tell you the details, I am changed into liquid. But then, the river(-god) (i.e. Alpheus) recognises his beloved (in the) waters, and setting aside the features of a man, which he had assumed, he changes back into his own watery (shape), so that he can mingle himself with me. (So,) the Delian (goddess) (i.e. Diana) splits the earth; having been plunged into hidden caverns, I am conveyed to Ortygia (i.e. an island in the bay of Syracuse, but also another name for Delos, Diana's birthplace), dear (to me) through the name of my goddess, which (is) the first (place) to draw me out into the upper air."

Ll. 642-678.  Calliope sings: 7) Triptolemus.  The fate of the Pierides.

" 'Arethusa (went) as far as that. The goddess of fertility (i.e. Ceres) harnessed twin dragons to her chariot, and curbed their mouths with the bit, and was borne through the air between heaven and earth, and she sent her light car to Triptolemus in the city of Tritonia (i.e. Athens);  and she ordered (him) to scatter the seeds (she had) given (him) partly on untilled soil and partly (on the fields which were being) recultivated after a long (period of) time. Now, the youth was carried high over Europe and the lands of Asia; he is directed towards the Scythian shores (i.e. the area to the north of the Black Sea). There Lyncus was king: he enters the king's palace. Asked how he had come, and the reason for his journey, and his name and country, he said, "The famous (city of) Athens is my home, (and) my name (is) Triptolemus. I came not by a ship over the waves, nor by foot over land: the air opened up a passage for me. I bring (you) the gifts of Ceres, which, if you scatter (them) across the wide fields, will give (you) back fruitful harvests and ripening food."

" 'The barbarian was jealous; as though he himself were the author of such a great gift, he receives (him) as a guest, but, (when he is) deep in sleep, he attacks (him) with a sword. As he attempted to pierce his breast, Ceres turned (him) into a lynx, and (then) ordered the Mopsopian (i.e. Athenian, the epithet being taken from Mopsopus, a legendary king of Athens) youth to drive her sacred team through the air again.'

"The greatest of us (i.e. Calliope) had finished her skilful singing. Then, the nymphs, with a harmonious voice, said that the goddesses who inhabit (Mount) Helicon (i.e. the Muses) had won the contest. When the vanquished (i.e. the Pierides) hurled abuse (at us), I (i.e. Urania) said, 'Since it is not enough that you deserve punishment for the contest, and you are adding insults to your offence, and our patience is not unlimited, we shall proceed to our sentence, and follow where our anger calls (us).'

"The Emathides (i.e. the Pierides, the daughters of Pierus, the king of Emathia) laugh, and scorn these threatening words: but, as they tried to speak and to stretch out their impudent hands with a great clamour, they saw feathers sprout from their nails and their arms covered with plumage; and each one sees the the mouth of another harden into a rigid beak, and new birds entering the woods. And, while they wish to beat (their breasts), they hung in the air, uplifted by their moving arms, those magpies that disturb our groves.

"Now, even as birds their former eloquence remains, as does their raucous chattering and their monstrous zeal for speech."


Thursday 3 May 2018

IMPARASYLLABIC NOUNS OF THE OF THE THIRD DECLENSION AND EXCEPTIONS TO THE RULES FOR THE QUANTITY OF FINAL SYLLABLES IN LATIN

Imparasyllabic nouns are those which have one more syllable in their Genitive Singulars than in their Nominative Singulars. The majority of such nouns are in the Third Declension, and within this declension there are two groups, or categories, of nouns (and related adjectives) which are of significance in relation to the length of syllables at the end of words, i.e. final syllables: 

1) Imparasyllabic Third Declension nouns with nominative Singulars ending in '- es', which have a short penultimate syllable in the Genitive Singular. In almost all Latin words ending in '- es', that syllable is pronounced long. However, in the case of this group of nouns, the final '- es' is short. Such nouns, and related adjectives, are listed below:  

ales, alitis.  c. bird, omen.  adj. winged, swift.  

caeles, caelitis.  adj. celestial. m.pl. the gods.

caespes, caespitis. m. sod, turf, mass of  roots

comes, comitis.  c. companion, partner, attendant, follower

dives, divitis.  adj. rich, wealthy, plentiful.

eques, equitis.  m. horseman, cavalryman, knight. 

gurges, gurgitis. m. deep water, abyss, flood, spendthrift.

hebes, hebetis. adj. blunt, dull, sluggish, stupid.

hospes, hospitis.  m. host, guest, stranger, foreigner.

limes, limitis. m. path, boundary, track, way, frontier

merges, mergitis.  f. sheaf (of corn).

miles, militis.  m. soldier. 

mollipes, mollipedis.  adj. soft-footed.

obses, obsidis.  f. hostage, guarantee.

palmes, palmitis.  m. branch, vine-shoot

pedes, peditis.  m. foot-soldier, infantryman.

poples, poplitis. m. knee, ham, hough.

praepes, praepetis.  f. bird.  adj. swift, winged, of good omen.

praeses, praesidis.  m. guardian, president, chief.  adj. presiding, protecting.

praestes, praestitis.  m. protector, guardian.  adj. protecting.

reses, residis.  adj. lazy, inactive.

satelles, satellitis. c. attendant, follower, courtier, life-guard, accomplice.

seges, segetis. f. cornfield, crop.

sospes, sospitis.  m. saviour, preserver, deliverer.  adj. safe, unhurt, favourable. 

stipes, stipitis.  m. log, tree, stump, trunk of a tree.

superstes, superstitis.  c. by-stander, witness, survivor.  adj. standing by, surviving, remaining.  

teges, tegetis. f. mat.

teres, teretis.  adj. rounded, smooth, polished, elegant. 

termes, termitis. m. branch.

trames, tramitis. m. footpath, path, by-way.

veles, velitis. m. light-armed soldier, skirmisher.

(N.B. In the case of all these above words, I suspect that, when we read them in prose, we often err by pronouncing the final '-es' syllable long. At the same time, I fear we also pronounce the final 's' like a 'z', as in English 'rose'. In Latin, however, 's' is always pronounced with a hissing sound, as in English 'sit'. So, for instance, 'comes' should always be pronounced 'commess', not 'commeyz'.) 

In the case of this group of Third Declension words, there are, inevitably perhaps, some exceptions to the exceptions. In the case of the following words which end in '- ies', their Nominative Singulars end in a long syllable, even though the penultimate syllables of their Genitive Singulars are pronounced short:

abies, abietis.  f. fir-tree, ship, spear, writing-tablet.

aries, arietis.  m. ram, battering-ram.

paries, parietis.  m. wall of a building. 

Another anomaly is the monosyllabic noun pes, pedis. m. foot, and its adjectival derivatives, bipes, bipedis; tripes, tripedis; and quadrupes, quadrupedis. Although these are imparasyllabic and have Genitive Singulars with a short penultimate syllable, the Nominative Singular of pes, and the final syllable of the Nominative Singulars of its derivatives are pronounced long, unlike the final syllable of the Nominative Singulars of mollipes and pedes (listed above), which are pronounced short - very confusing!

Further anomalies are heres, heredis. c. heir, heiress; and lebes, lebetis. m. copper basin, cauldron. Although both of these words are imparasyllabic, and the final syllables of their Nominative Singulars are short (N.B. a number of Latin dictionaries err in showing them as long), the penultimate syllable of their Genitive Singulars is long in both cases. However, while these two words share that characteristic, they differ in that the initial syllable of heres is long and that of lebes short.

2) Imparasyllabic Third Declension Nouns with Nominative Singulars ending in '- us', which have a long penultimate syllable in the Genitive Singular. In almost all Latin words ending in '-us', this syllable is pronounced short. However, in the case of this second group of nouns, the final '- us' is pronounced long. Such nouns are listed below:

crus, cruris. n. leg, shin.

incus, incudis.  f. anvil.

iuventus, iuventutis.  f. youth, manhood, men, soldiers.

palus, paludis.  f. marsh, pool, lake.

rus, ruris.  n. country, countryside, farm, estate.

salus, salutis. f. safety, health.

senectus, senectutis. old age, old men.

servitus, servitutis. f. slavery, service.

tellus, telluris.  f. earth, ground, land, country.

tus, turis.  n. incense, frankincense, spice.

virtus, virtutis.  f. virtue, courage, valour, manhood, strength, prowess.

Conclusion.  These two groups of Third Declension words are almost geometrically opposed to each other in terms of their characteristics and significance. The first group has Nominative Singulars which are pronounced short, and the second group has Nominative Singulars which are pronounced long. In the first group the penultimate syllable of the Genitive Singular is short; in the second group it is long. The first group has the effect of shortening an ending ('- es') which is otherwise almost always pronounced long, and the second group has the effect of lengthening an ending ('-us') which is otherwise almost always pronounced short. In both cases, however, it is particularly necessary to remember these details when scanning verse. 















Saturday 28 April 2018

OVID: METAMORPHOSES: BOOK IV

Introduction:

For an introduction to Ovid and the work as a whole, the reader is invited to look at the translation of "Metamorphoses" Book I, published on this blog on 1st February 2018.

Book IV, translated below, focuses, in particular on three pairs of lovers: Pyramus and Thisbe; Salmacis and Hermaphroditus; and Perseus and Andromeda, and contains the following contents: i) the daughters of Minyas; ii) Pyramus and Thisbe; iii) Sol in love; iv) Salmacis and Hermaphroditus; v) the daughters of Minyas transformed; vi) Athamas and Ino; vi) the transformation of Cadmus and Harmonia; vii) Perseus and Andromeda.

Ll. 1-30.  The Festival of Bacchus.

But Alcithoë, the daughter of Minyas (i.e. King of Orchomenus in Boeotia), will not celebrate the rites in acceptance of the god, but (is) rash enough (to) deny that Bacchus (i.e. the God of Wine) is the son of Jupiter, and she has sisters (i.e. Arsippe and Leucothoë) (who are) associated with her impiety. (Now) the priest had ordered the celebration of the festival, (and) that female servants should be freed from their work, and that their mistresses should cover their breasts with animal skins, take off their head-bands, wreathe their hair, and take up the leafy thyrsus (i.e. a Bacchic wand) in their hands, and he had prophesied that the anger of the god would be fierce (if he were) offended. The mothers and young women obey, and put aside their looms and wicker-baskets, and their unfinished tasks, and burn incense, and they invoke Bacchus, and Bromius (i.e. 'the noisy one'), and Lyaeus (i.e. 'the relaxer' or 'the deliverer from care'), and the fire-born, and the twice-born, and the only child of two mothers: to these (names) is added Nyseus (i.e. 'he of Nysa', a city in India, on Mount Meros, reputedly the birthplace of Bacchus), and the unshorn Thyoneus (i.e. the son of Thyone, an epithet of Bacchus' mother, Semele, under which name she was worshipped as a wild woman of the Bacchic rites) and Nyctelius (i.e. 'the night-comer', an epithet given to Bacchus, because his mysteries were celebrated at night) and Lenaeus, the planter of the congenial vine, and father Eleleus (i.e. an epithet of Bacchus, derived from ἐλελεῦ, the cry of the Bacchantes) and Iacchus, and Euhan (i.e. these are both names for Bacchus taken from the cries of his worshippers), and the very many other names, which you have, Liber (i.e. an old Italian deity, who presided over planting and fructification, and who afterwards became associated with the Greek god Bacchus) among the peoples of Greece. For your youth is unfading, you boy eternal, (and) you are seen (as) the most beautiful (sight) from the heights of the sky; you have a face like a virgin's, when you stand before (us) without your horns; by you the East (is) conquered as far as the remote Ganges, in which tawny India is dipped: you, (O) revered (one), killed those doubters, Pentheus, and Lycurgus, wielder of the double-headed axe (i.e. a king of Thrace, who, because he had opposed Bacchus entering his kingdom, was driven mad and killed his son with an axe, thinking he was pruning a vine), and you hurled the bodies of those Tyrrhenian (sailors) into the sea, (and) you harness the necks of a pair of yoked lynxes, distinguished by their coloured bridles; Bacchantes and Satyrs follow (you), and (so does) that drunken old man (i.e. Silenus), who supports his stumbling legs with his staff, and clings desperately to his bent-backed mule. Wherever you go, the yells of youths, together with the screams of women, and (the sounds of) hand-beaten drums, and hollow cymbals, and flutes with their long tubes are heard.  

Ll. 31-54.  The daughters of Minyas reject Bacchus.

The women of the Ismenus (i.e. a river near Thebes) pray (by Bacchus): "May you be calm and gentle," and they practice his rites as required. Only the daughters of Minyas (remain) inside, disturbing the festival with the untimely (arts) of Minerva, either drawing out (strands of) wool, or twisting the threads with their fingers, or staying at their looms and plying their handmaids with work.

(Then,) one of them (i.e. Arsippe), spinning the thread with her nimble thumb, says, "While the others stop doing their work, and are celebrating these fictitious rites, let us, whom Pallas (i.e. Minerva), a truer goddess, restrains, also lighten the useful work of our hands with different stories: for our joint benefit, let us, in turn, relate to our disengaged ears something which does not allow time to seem (so) long. Her sisters approve her words, and bid (her) tell (her story) first.  

She wonders as to which of many (stories) she should tell - for she knew very many - and hesitates (whether) to tell about about you, Babylonian Dercetis, whom the Palestinians believe swam in the waters with an altered shape, (and) with scales covering her limbs; or rather how her daughter (i.e. Semiramis), assuming wings, passed her earliest years in white dovecotes; or how a Naiad (i.e. a water-nymph), through incantations and all too powerful herbs, changed the bodies of youths into dumb fishes, until she suffered the same (thing); or how the tree that bore white berries now bears dark (ones) from the stain of blood. This (one) pleases (her), (and) she begins (to spin) this (tale), although the story is not well-known, by such measures as her wool follows its threads.

Ll. 55-92.  Arsippe tells the story of Pyramus and Thisbe.

"Pyramus and Thisbe, the one the most handsome of youths, (and) the other the most sought after of the girls, whom the East possessed, lived in adjoining houses (in the place) where Semiramis is said to have enclosed her towering city with walls made of brick (i.e. Babylon). Their nearness caused their acquaintance and its first steps: love grew with time. They would also have joined in lawful marriage, but their fathers forbade (them). They were both on fire, with hearts equally captivated, (something) which their parents could not prevent. There have no go-between at all: they communicate by nods and signs, and the more the hidden fire (of love) is concealed, the more it blazes. The wall common to each house (i.e. the party wall) had been split by a thin crack, which had developed at some former time when it was being built. In all this time, this defect had not been noticed by anyone - but what does love not detect? -  (but) you lovers (were) the first (to) see (it), and you made (it) a passage for your speech; your endearments used to pass safely through that (crack) with the gentlest of murmurs. Often, when they were in place, Thisbe on the one side (and) Pyramus on the other, and the breath from (each) mouth had been caught in turn, they said, '(You) jealous wall, why do you hinder lovers? How small (a thing) would it be (for you) to allow our bodies to be united in a close embrace, or, if this is too much (to ask), at least to allow (us) to give (each other) kisses? Not that we are ungrateful: we acknowledge that we owe to you (the fact) that a passage has been granted for words (to reach) our loving ears.' Speaking such (words) to no purpose from their separate abodes, as night (fell) they said, 'Farewell!' and each gave to their own side (of the wall) kisses which did not reach the opposite (side).

Then, Aurora (i.e. dawn) quenched the fires of night (i.e the stars), and the sun dried the grass with his rays: they came to their usual places. Then, after first complaining of many (things) with a little murmur, they decide to try to deceive the guards in the silence of the night, and to go outside the gates, and, when they have left their houses, they would leave the city's buildings as well; and, lest they should go astray while crossing the wide field, (they decide that) that they shall meet at the grave of Ninus, and hide in the shadow of a tree. There was a tree there, a tall mulberry, heavily laden with snow-white berries, close to a cool fountain. They were pleased with their plan. Then the light, appearing to ebb slowly, sinks in the waters, and night emerges from the same waters.

Ll. 93-127.  The death of Pyramus. 

Carefully opening the door, Thisbe slipped out through the darkness, and eludes her (parents), and, veiling her face, she reaches the tomb, and sat down under the agreed tree. Love was making (her) bold. (But) look, (here) comes a lioness, her jaws smeared (with blood) from a recent slaugther of cattle, in order to slake her thirst in the waters of the nearby fountain. Babylonian Thisbe saw her from a distance in the light of the moon, and fled, with trembling footsteps, to a dark cave, and, as she flees, she leaves her fallen veil behind (her). When the fierce lioness has quenched her thirst with much water, as she is returning to the woods, she happened to find the flimsy (article of) clothing without its (owner) and ripped (it) in her blood-stained mouth. Leaving a little later, Pyramus saw the clear foot-marks of the wild beast in the thick dust, and his whole face turned pale: (and) indeed, when he also discovered the blood-stained (piece of) fabric, he cries out, 'One night will destroy two lovers. Of the two of us, she was the most deserving of a long life; my spirit is the guilty (one): I have killed you, poor (girl), (I) who told (you to) come by night to this place (so) full of danger, nor did I come here before (you). O all you lions who live beneath these rocks, tear my body to pieces and devour my sinful flesh with your fierce bites. But it is (the sign) of a coward to ask for death.' He picks up Thisbe's veil and carries (it) to the shade of the chosen tree; and, as he soaked the familiar garment with his tears, (and) gave (it) his kisses, he says, 'Now receive some draughts of my blood as well!' Straightway, he plunged the sword, with which he was girded, into his groin, (and as he was) dying, he drew (it) warm from his wound. As he lay back on the ground, his blood spurted up high, just as, when a pipe is split apart, when the lead has fractured, and shoots out long (streams of) water through the narrow hissing opening, and bursts through the air in blasts. With this spatter of blood, the fruit of the tree takes on a dark aspect and its roots, soaked in blood, imbue the overhanging mulberries with a purple colour.

 Ll. 128-166.  The death of Thisbe.   

"Look, she is returning, though her fear is not yet set aside, in order not to cheat her lover, and she looks for the young man with longing eyes, and is most eager to tell (him) what a great danger she has avoided. And, as she recognises the spot and the shape of the tree (she had) seen, so the colour of the berries makes (her) doubtful: she is unsure whether this is the tree (or not). While she hesitates, she sees (someone's) quivering limbs beating the blood-stained earth, and she started back, and, her face looking whiter than boxwood, she shuddered like the sea, which trembles when a slight breeze touches its surface. But, when, after a little while, she recognises her lover, she strikes her innocent arms in loud lamentation, and, tearing her hair and embracing the beloved body, she drenched his wounds with her tears, and mingled her tears with his blood, and, planting kisses on his cold features, she cried out, 'Pyramus, what misfortune has taken you from me? Pyramus, answer (me): your dearest Thisbe is calling you: listen (to me), and raise your drooping face!' At the name of Thisbe Pyramus raised his eyes, now heavy with death, and, when he saw that it was she, he buried (them) once more (in darkness).

 When she recognised her own garment, and saw his ivory (scabbard) without its sword, she says, 'Unhappy (boy), your own hand and your love have destroyed you. I, too, have a hand strong (enough) for this one (deed), and (I,) too, have love: it will give (me) the strength to (inflict) a wound. I shall follow (you in) death, and I shall be called the most wretched cause and companion of your death; and you who could (only) be torn away from me, alas, by death alone, not even by death can you (now) be torn away (from me). Yet, O most wretched parents, (both) mine and his, may you be asked this, by the words of (us) both, that you do not begrudge (us) whom undoubted love and our last hour have joined together (the right) to be laid in the same tomb. And you, the tree who now cover with your branches the poor body of one (of us), (and who) will soon be covering (the bodies) of the two (of us), retain the emblems of our death, and always keep your fruit dark in colour and fit for mourning, (as) a memorial of the blood of the two (of us).'

She spoke, and, fitting the point at the bottom of her breast (i.e her heart), she fell forward on to the sword which was still warm from his blood. Yet, her prayers moved the gods, (and) moved their parents (too): for the colour of the berry, when it has ripened, is dark red, and what is left from the funeral pyres rests in a single urn."

Ll. 167-189.  Leuconoë's story: Mars and Venus.

She (i.e. Arsippe) ceased (speaking), and for a short time there was a pause, and (then) Leuconoë began to speak: her sisters held back their voices. "Love even took Sol (i.e. the Sun) prisoner, the one who rules all the stars with his light: I shall tell (you) about Sol's amours. He is thought to have been the first god to have seen the adultery of Venus with Mars: he (is) the god (who) sees everything first. He was sorry (to see) this act: and he informed her husband, the son of Juno (i.e. Vulcan) about the bedroom intrigue and the location of the intrigue. Then his (i.e. Vulcan's) heart fell, and (so did) the craftsman's work which his right (hand) was holding. Immediately, he (begins to) file thin chain-links of bronze (as) a net, and a snare, which would deceive the eye - the finest (spun) threads, those that the spider spins from the roof beams, would not better this work of his - , and he makes (it) so that it would follow the lightest touch and the slightest movement, and, with his (cunning) skill, he places  (it) around the bed. When his wife and the adulterer came to the one bed, they were both stuck fast, caught in the act, in the midst of their embraces, by the husband's craft, and by the chains which he had prepared by his new method (of imprisonment). The Lemnian (i.e. Vulcan, who lived on the island of Lemnos) immediately threw open the folding-doors and let in the gods: there they lay (i.e. Mars and Venus), bound together in their shame; then, one of the gods, not dismayed, prays that he might become shamed like that: the gods laughed, and, for a long time, this was the best-known story in all the heavens.  

Ll. 190-213.  Leuconoë's story: Venus's revenge.

"But Cytherea (i.e. Venus), remembering the disclosure, exacted punishment, and harmed in turn with equal love the one who had harmed her love-making. (O) son of Hyperion (i.e. Sol), what use to you now are your beauty, your colour and your radiant light? Surely, you, who burns all lands with fires, will burn with a new fire; and you who should see everything, are gazing at Leucothoë, and you fix your eyes, which should be fixed on the whole world, on one virgin (girl). Sometimes, you rise too early in the Dawn sky, at another time, you sink too late into the waves; and you extend the hours of winter by a period of time, so that you can gaze (at her). Sometimes, you vanish altogether, and your mind's defect affects your light, and, (when you are) obscured, you terrify men's hearts. Nor do you fade because the shadow of the moon, (being) closer to the earth, gets in your way: that love of yours determines your colour. You love only her; Clymene (i.e. the mother of Phaëthon) and Rhode (i.e. the nymph of the island of Rhodes), and the most beautiful mother of Aeaean Circe (i.e. Perse), do not interest you, and Clytie (i.e. a daughter of Oceanus), although (she has been) scorned, was seeking union with you, and had a deep wound from that very time: Leucothoë has caused (you) to forget (so) many (of them), (she) whom the most lovely Eurynome (i.e. a goddess of the sea) brought to birth among the perfume-producing people. But, when her daughter grew (to womanhood), the daughter surpassed her mother (in beauty), as her mother (had surpassed) all (others). Her father, Orchamus, ruled the Achaemenian (i.e. Persian) cities, and he is counted seventh (in line) from their founder, ancient Belus.

Ll. 214-255.  The transformation of Leucothoë into frankincense.

"Under Hesperian (i.e. Western) skies are the pastures of the horses of Sol. They have ambrosia instead of grass: this nourishes their weary legs after their daily (round of) duties, and refreshes (them) after their hard work. While his horses graze there on celestial fodder, and night performs her duties, the god (i.e. Sol) enters his beloved's bed-chamber, having changed into the form of her mother Eurynome, and (there) he sees Leucothoë in the lamplight among her twelve handmaids, drawing out fine threads and winding (them) on her spindle. So, when he gave (her) a kiss, just like a mother (gives) her dear daughter, he says, 'It is a secret matter. Depart, maids, and do not rob a mother of the ability to speak (to her daughter) in private.' They obeyed: when the bed-chamber was left without a witness, the god said, 'I am he who measures the length of the year, the eye of the world, who sees all (things), (and) through whom the earth sees all (things). Believe (me), you (really) do please me!' She is terrified, and, in her fear, both the distaff and spindle fell from her enfeebled fingers. Her very fear made her more attractive. And he, delaying no longer, returned to his true form and his accustomed brightness: then the virgin, although alarmed by this unexpected sight, (is) overwhelmed by his brightness, (and, all) complaint set aside, submitted to the god's assault. 

"Clytie was jealous (of Leucothoë) - for her love for Sol had been without any restraint - (and,) goaded by anger at her rival, she broadcasts the adultery, and betrays (her) to her father by divulging (it). In his pride and wildness, that merciless man (i.e. Orchamus) buries (her) deep (in the ground), as she prays and stretches out her hands towards Sol's light, and cries out, 'He carried out his assault against my will,' and he heaps a pile of heavy sand on top of (her). Hyperion's son disperses this with his rays, and gives you a way by which you can show your buried face. (But) you, (poor) nymph, could no longer lift your head, crushed (as it was) by the weight of earth, and you lay (there), a bloodless corpse. It is said that the manager of those winged horses (i.e. Sol) had seen nothing more bitter than this, since the fires that (had destroyed) Phaëthon. Indeed, he tries (to see) if he could recall those frozen limbs to a living heat with the power of his rays: but, since fate obstructs such efforts, he sprinkled both body and place with fragrant nectar, and, after much prior lamentation, he said: 'You will still touch the air.' Immediately, the body, steeped in heavenly nectar, dissolved and soaked the earth in its perfume: a sprout of frankincense, gradually putting forth roots, sprung up through the soil, and burst through the summit of the mound.

Ll. 256-273.  Clytie is transformed into the heliotrope. 

"Now, the promoter of light (i.e. Sol) no longer visits Clytie or found in her any reason to love her, although love could have excused her pain, and pain her disclosure. Deranged by her experience of loving him, (and) impatient of deities, she wasted away, and, under the (open) sky, she sat night and day on the bare earth, dishevelled (and) with her hair unadorned; and, without food and water for nine days, she satisfied her thirst with pure dew and her own tears; nor did she stir from the ground: she only gazed at the god's face, as he passed, and turned her own face towards him. They say that her limbs clung to the soil, and her ghostly pallor changed part of her complexion to (that of) a bloodless plant; (but) she was partly red, and a flower like a violet hid her face. Though she is held by her roots, she turns towards Sol, and, (while) altered, she retains her love of him."

She finished speaking, and the miraculous action had captivated their ears. Some say it could not have happened, others that the true gods can do everything: but Bacchus is not among them.

Ll. 274-316.  Alcithoë tells the story of Salmacis. 

When the sisters have fallen silent, Alcithoë is called upon (next). She, standing (there), running the threads through the shuttle on her loom, said, "I (shall) keep silent about the well-known loves of Daphnis, the Idaean shepherd-boy, whom a nymph, in her anger at a rival, turned to stone - so great (is) the pain (which) inflames lovers. Nor (shall) I speak of how, with the law of nature effecting a change, Sithon once became of indeterminate gender, now a man, now a woman. I (shall) pass over (how) you too, Celmis, (who were) once a most loyal (friend) to the infant Jupiter, (are) now adamantine steel, (how) the Curetes (were) born from vast showers of rain, and (how) Crocus and Smilax (were) changed into small flowers, and I shall capture your attention with a charming new story.

"Learn from where the sturdy pool of Salmacis gained its infamous (reputation), (and) how it (so) badly weakens and softens the limbs it touches. The cause lies hidden, (but) the fountain's power is widely known.

"The Naiads (i.e. the water-nymphs) reared a boy, born to Mercury by the goddess Cytherea (i.e. Venus) in the caves of (Mount) Ida: his features were (such that) in them both his mother and his father could be seen; (and) from them he also took his name (i.e. Hermaphroditus). As soon as he reached fifteen years (of age), he abandoned his native mountains and, leaving behind Ida, his nursery, he delighted to wander in unknown places (and) to behold unknown rivers, his enthusiasm making light of the effort (of travelling). He even reaches the cities of Lycia and (those) of Caria (which are) near to Lycia. Here he sees a pool (which is) clear to its very bottom. There (there were) no marshy reeds, nor sterile sedge, nor any sharp-bladed rushes: the water was crystal clear; but the edges of the pool are bordered by fresh turf, and by grass (that is) always green. A nymph lives (there), but (she is) not keen on hunting, nor is she accustomed to bending the bow, or to compete in running, and (she is) the only (one) of the Naiads not known to the swift(-footed) Diana. The story goes that her sisters would often say to her: 'Take up your javelin  or your painted quiver, Salmacis, and combine your leisure with some hard hunting!' She neither takes up a javelin nor a painted quiver, nor does she combine her leisure with hard hunting, but she only bathes her shapely limbs in that spring of hers, and she often combs her hair with a comb (made of boxwood) from (Mount) Cytorus (i.e. a mountain in Paphlagonia renowned for its supply of boxwood), and she gazes in the water to see what makes her look most beautiful; now draped in a translucent robe, she lays her body in soft leaves or on the soft grass; often she gathers some flowers. And then she also happened to be gathering (these), when she saw the boy, and what she saw she longed to have.

Ll. 317-345.  Salmacis falls for Hermaphroditus. 

"Yet she did not go to (him), even if she was yearning to go to (him), until she had calmed herself, and had checked her clothing, and had arranged her appearance, and merited being considered beautiful.

"Then she began to speak as follows: 'Boy, O most worthy to be a god, if you are a god, you must be Cupid, or, if you are mortal, (those) who brought you to birth, (are) blessed, and any brother (you may have is) happy, and any sister, if you (have) one, and the nurse who gave (you) her breasts, is fortunate indeed: but far beyond all (of these) and far more blessed (is) she, if (there is) someone (who is) betrothed to you, if you think her worthy of marriage. If you have someone, let this pleasure of mine be a stolen (one), or if you don't have (someone), I shall be that (person), and we shall enter marriage together.'

"After this, the Naiad was silent. A red (flush) marked the boy's face - for he did not know what love (was) - , but yet his redness was most becoming. This is the colour of apples hanging from a sunlit tree, or of painted ivory, or of the moon blushing in her brightness, while the bronze (shields) clash as they vainly try to rescue (her). (While) the nymph begs endlessly for sisterly kisses, at least, and is on the verge of putting her hands on his ivory(-white) neck, he says (to her), 'You must stop, or I shall go and leave this (place) and you.' Salmacis was afraid, and says, 'Stranger, I freely surrender this place to you,' and, turning around, she pretends to depart, but then, looking back, she hides (herself) away, concealed in the shrubbery of the bushes, and lowered (herself) on bended knee. But he, thinking that he is unobserved, then walks about here and there on the vacant grass, and dips the top parts of his feet, as far as his ankles, in the playful waters; and without delay, captivated (as he is) by the coolness of the enticing water, he removes the soft clothes from his slender body.

Ll. 346-388.  Salmacis and Hermaphroditus merge. 

Then, Salmacis really was pleased, and was inflamed by a desire for his naked form: the nymph's eyes are blazing too, just like when brightest Phoebus (i.e. the sun) is reflected in the likeness of a mirror (placed) opposite his unclouded orbit. She can scarcely permit a delay, now she can scarcely contain her delight, now she longs to embrace (him), now, in her madness, she restrains herself without success. Clapping his body with hollow palms, he speedily jumps into the waters, and, drawing (himself through the water by) alternate arms (i.e. swimming), he shines in the clear water, as if someone is veiling ivory statues or shining white lilies with clear glass. 'I have won, and he is mine!' cries the Naiad, and, hurling away all her clothes, she plunges into the midst of the water, and grabs hold of (him) as he struggles, and she snatches fighting kisses, and puts her hands under (him) and touches his unwilling breast, and smothers the youth, now from this side (and) now from that; at last she clasps (him), like a snake, which the royal bird (i.e. an eagle) holds (in his talons) and carries off on high, as he (i.e. Hermaphroditus) struggles against (her) and tries to slip away: hanging (there), it binds his head and feet, and entangles his spreading wings with its tail: or, as ivy is wont to envelop tall tree-trunks, and as a cuttlefish holds the prey (it has) caught under water, wrapping its tentacles (around it) from all sides. Atlas' descendant (i.e. Hermaphroditus, whose father Mercury was the son of Atlas' daughter Maia) stands fast, and refuses the nymph's hoped-for pleasures. She hugs (him), and clings to (him), as though (she is) joined to his whole body. 'You may struggle, you perverse (fellow),' she said, 'but you will not escape. (O) gods, may you make the following decree! That no day may part him from me, or me from him.' Her prayers reached their gods: for the entwined bodies of the pair (of them) are joined together, and one form is exhibited in them (both), just as if someone grafts a twig on to the bark (of a tree), and he sees (them) united in their growth and developing together. So, when their limbs have met in a tight embrace, they are not two but a two-fold form, so that it is not possible (for them) to be called either woman or boy, and they seem neither one of them or both of them.

"So, when he sees that the clear waters, into which he had plunged (as) a man, had made him (into) a creature of both sexes, and that his limbs (had been) softened in them, Hermaphroditus says, but not now in a man's voice: '(O) father and mother, grant this gift to your son, who possesses the name of (you) both: whoever comes to these fountains (as) a man, let him go from here (as) a half-man, and let him, having been immersed in these waters, suddenly become soft.' Both his parents, moved (by this), fulfilled the words of their two-formed son, (which they had) ratified, and contaminated the fountain with an impure drug." 

Ll. 389-415.  The daughters of Minyas become bats.

This was the end of their stories. But, still, the daughters of Minyas press on with their work, and they spurn the the god and desecrate his feast, when suddenly unseen drums disturbed (the air) with harsh sounds, and pipes with curved horns and ringing brass resound; myrrh and saffron fill (the air) with perfume, and, an occurrence (which is) beyond belief, their looms began to grow green, and the cloth, as it hung (there), (began) to put forth leaves in the shape of ivy. Some (of it) turns into vines, and what have just been threads are changed into tendrils; a vine-shoot comes out of the warp; (and) the purple (fabric) lends its splendour to the coloured grapes. And now the day was passed, and the time was come which you cannot call darkness or light, but rather the borderline between uncertain night and light: suddenly the roof seems to shake and the oil lamps to burn and their house to shine brightly with glowing fires, and the false phantoms of savage beasts to howl. Immediately, the sisters conceal themselves throughout the smoke-filled house, and in separate locations they avoid the fires and the light; while they seek the shadows, a membrane stretches over their slender limbs, and a delicate wing enfolds their arms. The darkness does not enable (them) to know by what means they have lost their former shape. Soft feathers have not lifted (them) up, but they have raised themselves on transparent wings; and (when) trying to speak, they let out the tiniest squeak in line with (the size of) their bodies, and express their faint complaints with a hiss. They frequent rafters, not woods, and detesting the light, they fly at night, and derive their name (i.e. 'vespertiliones,' bats) from the late evening (i.e. 'vesper,' evening).

Ll. 416-463.  Juno is angered by Semele's sister, Ino.

Then, indeed, Bacchus' divinity was talked about throughout Thebes, and his maternal aunt (i.e. Ino) speaks everywhere of the new god's great powers, and of (all) her sisters she was the only one free of troubles except (that) which her sisters caused.

Juno considers this (woman and) the lofty pride (which she) has in her sons, and in her marriage to Athamas and in the god (who was) her foster-child (i.e. Bacchus), and she could not bear (it), and (says) to herself: "That son of my rival (i.e. Semele) could change those Maeonian (i.e. Lydian) sailors and immerse (them) in the sea, and permit the flesh of a son (i.e. Pentheus) to be torn to pieces by his own mother (i.e. Agave), and cover over the three daughters of Minyas (i.e. Alcithoë, Arsippe and Leuconoë) with strange wings: can Juno (do) nothing except weep over her troubles? Is that enough for me? Is that my only power? He (i.e. Bacchus) teaches (me) what I can do - it is even possible to learn from your enemy - and he has sufficiently, and more (than sufficiently), shown what power madness can have by killing Pentheus: why should Ino not be tormented, and follow her relatives' example in her frenzies?" 

There is a gloomy path sloping downwards, with a mournful yew-tree: it leads through still silences to the infernal regions. The sluggish Styx exhales vapours, and the shades of the newly dead descend there, when their ghosts (are) discharged from their graves. Pallor and winter occupy these wide thorny regions, and the newly-arrived shades do not know what road it is that leads to the Stygian city, where stands the cruel palace of black Dis (i.e. Pluto). This spacious city has a thousand entrances and open gates on every side, and, as the sea receives all the world's rivers, so that place (receives) all its souls, nor is it (too) small for any (number of) people, nor does it think that a crowd has come. (There) bloodless shades without flesh or bones wander (around), and some (of them) frequent the forum, some the house of the ruler of the depths, (while) others engage in certain trades (in) imitation of their former life, (and,) in the case of others still, their punishment corrects (them).

Leaving her home in heaven, Saturn's daughter, Juno, withstood the journey to those abodes - she gave up so much to her hatred and anger. As soon as she entered, and the threshold groaned (when) touched by her sacred body, Cerberus lifted up his three mouths, and at once gave out his three-fold barking. She summons the sisters, the children of Night (i.e. the Furies), and their dread and implacable divine power: they were sitting in front of the gates, (which are) enclosed by adamantine steel, and they were combing black snakes from their hair. As soon as they recognise her among the shadows of the darkness, the goddesses arose. The place is called accursed: (here) Tityos offers up his innards to be torn, and stretched out across nine acres; no (drops) of water can be caught by you, Tantalus, and the tree which he grasps at eludes (him). You, Sisyphus, either seek or push forward the stone that will (always) return; Ixion turns around, and follows after himself and flees; and the granddaughters of Belus (i.e. the forty-nine daughters of Danaus), who dared to devise the death of their cousins, continually take back again the water, which they (then) lose.

Ll. 464-511.  Tisiphone maddens Athamas and Ino. 

After Saturn's daughter (i.e. Juno) had looked at all of these with a fierce glance, and, above all, at Ixion, looking back from him to Sisyphus, she says, "Why, out of these brothers, should he (i.e. Sisyphus) suffer perpetual punishment, (while) a rich palace holds proud Athamas, who, together with his wife (i.e. Ino), has always scorned me?" Then, she expounds the reasons for her hatred and her journey, and what (it is) she wants. What she wished was that the royal house of Cadmus should not stand, and that the sisters (i.e. the Furies) should draw Athamas into a criminal act. She mixes command, promises (and) prayers into one (statement), and rouses the goddesses. So, when Juno (had) said these (things), Tisiphone, grey-haired as she was, shook her disordered locks, and threw back the obstructing snakes from her face, and says as follows: "There is no need for these long-winded words. Whatever (things) you order, consider (them) done." (Now) leave this hateful kingdom, and return yourself to the sweeter airs of heaven." Juno returned happily, and Iris, the daughter of Thaumas, purified her with drops of dew.

Without delay, the importunate Tisiphone takes up a torch soaked in blood, and puts on a robe dripping with gore, and is girded about with a writhing serpent, and leaves the house. Grief accompanies (her) as she goes, and Panic and Terror, and Madness with its twitching face. She stood on the threshold: they say that the door-posts of (the palace of) Aeolus (i.e. King of the Winds, and the father of Athamas and Sisyphus) shook, and a pallor tainted its maple-wood doors, and the sun fled the place. Athamas is scared, (and) his wife (is) terrified by these portents. They were preparing to leave the palace: the baleful Fury (i.e. Tisiphone) obstructs (them) and blocks the way out, and, stretching out her arms, (which were) wreathed with knots of vipers, she shook her hair. The snakes made sounds as she moved, and some lie on her shoulders, (while) others, sliding over her breasts, give out hissing noises, and vomit blood and flick their tongues. Then, she pulls two snakes from the middle of her hair, and threw what she had snatched with her deadly hand. Then, they slither over the bosoms of Ino and Athamas, and blow their oppressive breath into (them). Their limbs do not suffer any wounds: it is the mind that feels the dreadful strokes. She had also brought with her monstrous (potions) of liquid poison, foam (gathered) from the mouth of Cerberus, and the venom of Echidna (i.e. the mother of Cerberus, who was half-woman, half-snake), (causing) vague delusions, the oblivion of the dark mind, wickedness, tears, rage, and a love of murder, all rubbing together; these, she had boiled in a hollow bronze (cauldron), mixed with fresh blood, (and) stirred by (a stalk of) green hemlock. While they stand trembling, she pours this fearful venom over the breasts of both (of them), and sent (it) to the bottom of their hearts. Then, brandishing her torch, she pursues the fire with swiftly moving fires through the same repeated cycle.

So, having conquered, and having successfully carried out her orders, she returns to the insubstantial kingdom of mighty Dis, and she is ungirded of the snake (which she had) taken up.

Ll. 512-542.  Ino becomes the goddess Leucothoë.

Forthwith, the son of Aeolus (i.e. Athamas), raging in the midst of his palace, cries out, "Ho there, my companions, spread our nets through these woods! I have just seen a lioness here with her two cubs." And, in his madness, he follows his wife's footsteps, as (if she were) a wild beast, and snatches up little Learchus, (who was) laughing and waving his arms, from his mother's breast, and whirls (him) two or three times through the air, like a sling, and (then) dashes the infant's head fiercely against a solid rock. Then, his mother, roused at last - either grief caused this, or the reason (was) the poison sprinkled (on her) - , howls violently, and flees madly, with her hair dishevelled, and, carrying little you, Melicertes, in her bare arms, she cries out, "Euhoe, Bacchus!" Juno laughed at the name of Bacchus, and said, " Help such as this may your foster-son give you!"

A cliff overhangs the sea: its bottom part is worn hollow by the breakers, and it protects the waves it hides from the rain; its summit is rugged and projects its front out over the open sea. Ino climbs this - her madness had given (her) the strength - and, unrestrained by any fear, she throws herself and her burden (i.e. Melicertes) into the sea; where she struck (it), the sea grew white.

But Venus, pitying her granddaughter's (i.e. Ino's mother Harmonia was Venus' daughter) undeserved sufferings, coaxed her uncle thus: "O Neptune, god of the waters, whose power (only) ceases near heaven, I ask great (things) indeed, but may you (please) take pity (on those relations) of mine, whom you see are thrown into the vast Ionic (sea), and add (them) to your (sea) gods. Some kindness is surely (due) to me, if only (because) I was compounded from the foam in the middle of the deep, and from that my Greek name (i.e. Aphrodite) (still) remains.

Neptune assented to her prayer, and took from them what was mortal, and he assigned (to them) a venerable divine majesty, and, at the same time, gave (them) a new name and form, and he called the god (i.e. Melicertes) Palaemon and his mother (i.e. Ino) Leucothoë (i.e. the White Goddess, and not the same as the lover of Sol).


Ll. 543-562.  Juno transforms the Theban women.

Her Sidonian attendants, following her foot marks as well as they could, saw her very last (steps) on the tip of the rock; thinking that there was no doubt of her death, they bewail frantically the house of Cadmus, and tear at their hair and their clothes with their hands, (saying) that too little justice and too much cruelty towards her rival have caused the goddess's jealousy. Juno could not bear their reproaches, and said, "I will make you, yourselves, the best monument to my cruelty." Action followed her words.  

For (the one) who had been especially faithful cries, "I shall follow the queen into the sea, but, as she was about to make her leap, she could not move herself at all, and, stuck fast, fixed to the cliff. Another, while she tries to beat her breasts with the customary blows, felt her arms had gone rigid as she tried (to do so); the former, as she chanced to stretch out her hands to the waves of the sea, a hand made of stone extends over the same waves; the latter, as she she tore at the crown of her head to pull out her hair, you might suddenly see the stiffened fingers in her hair: and in whatever gesture she was caught, she was stuck in it. Others were made (into) birds; they, the women of the Ismenus (i.e. the Theban women), now also skim the surface of these depths with the tops of their wings.

Ll. 563-603.  Cadmus and Harmonia become serpents. 

The son of Agenor (i.e. Cadmus) was unaware that his daughter (i.e. Ino) and little grandson (i.e. Melicertes) were (now) sea-gods: overcome by grief and by this run of disasters, and by the many prodigies which he had seen, the founder leaves his city (i.e. Thebes), as if the misfortune of the place, (and) not his own, were oppressing him; and, driven by lengthy wanderings, he came to the borders of Illyria with his exiled wife (i.e. Harmonia).

And now, weighed down by their age and their woes, while they are reviewing the original destiny of their house and recounting their sufferings in their conversation, Cadmus says, "Surely that snake (which was) pierced by my spear, must have been sacred, at the time, when, having (just) come from Sidon, I scattered the snake's teeth, that strange seed, over the ground? If the diligence of the gods is avenging it with such sure anger, I pray that I, myself, may be stretched into a long belly (like) a serpent." He spoke, and is stretched into a long belly like a serpent, and he feels his scales growing on his stiffened skin, and his black body being chequered with dark-green spots. He falls forward on to his breast. And gradually his legs are fused into one, and are tapered into a rounded point. Now (only) his arms remain: he stretches out what is left of his arms, and, with tears flowing across his still human face, he said, "Come here, O wife, come here, (you) most unfortunate (person), and, while there is (still) something left of me, touch me and take my hand, while it (still) is a hand, (and) while the snake does not (yet) possess me entirely!"

Now, he wants to say (so) much more, but suddenly his tongue is split into two parts: (and although) he wishes (to speak), the words are not forthcoming, and, whenever he tries to emit some plaintive (sounds), he (just) hisses: nature has left him this voice. (Then,) striking her naked breast with her hand, his wife exclaims, "Hold on, Cadmus, (you) unfortunate (one), set aside this monstrous (shape)! Cadmus, what (is all) this? Where are your feet, where (are) your shoulders and your hands, and your colour and your face and, while I am speaking, everything (else), ? Why, (O you) gods, do you not change me into a similar snake as well?"

She finished speaking: he licked his wife's face, and slid between her beloved breasts, as though he were acquainted with them, and gave (her) a hug, and looked for the neck (which he) knew so well. Everyone who is there - their companions were present - is horrified: but she strokes the gleaming neck of the crested serpent, and suddenly there are two (of them), and they slither along with an intertwined coil, until they plunged into the shelter of a nearby grove.

Even now, they do not shun any man, or harm (anyone) by a wound, and these peaceful serpents remember what they once were.

Ll. 604-662.  Perseus and Atlas.  

But yet, their grandson (i.e. Bacchus), whom conquered India worshipped, had given both (of them) (i.e. Cadmus and Harmonia) great consolation, (even) in their altered form, and Achaea (i.e. Greece) glorified (him) in his (newly) established temples. Only Acrisius, the son of Abas, born from the same stock (i.e. he was descended from Belus, the brother of Cadmus' father Agenor), remains to keep (him) from the walls of the city of Argos, and to bear arms against the god, whom he does not consider to be the son of Jupiter; nor, indeed, did he consider Perseus, whom Danaë (i.e. Acrisius' daughter) had conceived in a shower of golden rain, to be the (son) of Jupiter. Soon, however, Acrisius -so great is the effect of the truth - regrets that he had so outraged the god that he had not acknowledged his own grandson: one (i.e. Bacchus) had already been assigned to the heavens, and the other (i.e. Perseus) was traversing the gentle air on beating wings, bringing back the remarkable prize of the snake-infested (head of) a monster (i.e. Medusa). And, as the victor hung above the Libyan sands, drops of blood fell from the Gorgon's head. The earth caught them and gave life to various (species of) snakes, as a result of which that country is regularly infested with snakes.

Driven from there by conflicting winds, he is carried this way and that through a vast (space) like a rain-cloud, and from the lofty sky he looks down from afar at remote (areas of) the earth, and he flies over the whole world. Three times he saw the frozen (constellations of) the Bears (i.e. Ursa Major and Ursa Minor), and three times the Crab's pincers: often he was taken right up to the west, often into the east. And now, with the daylight failing, (and) afraid to entrust himself to the night, he sets down in the region of Hesperus, in the realms of Atlas, and (there) he seeks a short rest, while Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star) summons Aurora's (i.e. Dawn's) fires and Aurora the chariot of the day.

Here was Atlas, the son of Iapetus, who surpasses all men by (the size of) his huge body. This most remote land was under his sway, as was the ocean, which bathes in its waters Sol's panting horses and welcomes his weary chariot-wheels. A thousand flocks of his (sheep) and as many herds (of cattle) were roaming through grassy (pastures), and his soil was not encroaching upon any neighbouring (lands). The leaves on the trees, shining with radiant gold, concealed branches (made) of gold and apples (made) of gold. Perseus says to him, "My friend, if the glory of high birth impresses you, Jupiter (is) responsible for my birth; or, if you are an admirer of (great) deeds, you will admire mine. I am (only) looking for hospitality and rest." He (i.e. Atlas) was mindful of an ancient prophecy: Themis had given this prophecy on (Mount) Parnassus: "Atlas, the time will come, when your tree will be stripped of its gold, and a son of Jupiter will have the fame of this spoil."

Fearful of this, Atlas had enclosed his orchard with walls, and had given the (task of) guarding (it) to a huge dragon, and kept all strangers away from his territory. Then he says to him (i.e. Perseus), "Go far away, lest the glory of the deeds, about which you are lying, and Jupiter, (himself,) are of no help to you at all!" And he adds force to his threats, and he tries to push (him) away with his hands, as he lingers, and combines courage with calm words. Inferior in strength - for who was Atlas' equal in strength? - , he says, "Now, seeing that my friendship is of such small (importance) to you, accept this gift!" and, turning himself away, he held out Medusa's foul face on his left(-hand) side. Atlas became a mountain, as big as he had been: for his beard and hair turn into woods, his shoulders and hands are ridges, and what had previously been his head is (now) the crest on the mountain summit, and his bones become stone: then, enlarged on every side, he grew to an immense (height) - so you, gods, ordained (it) - and the whole sky, with all its stars, rested on him. 

Ll. 663-705.  Perseus offers to save Andromeda. 

The son of Hippotas (i.e. Aeolus, the King of the winds) had locked up the winds in their permanent prison (i.e. under Mount Etna), and Lucifer (i.e. the Morning Star), who exhorts (us) to work, had risen at his brightest in the lofty sky. He (i.e. Perseus) ties the winged sandals, (which he had) taken up, on his feet, and girds himself with a curved sword, and cleaves the clear air in both directions on beating wings. Leaving behind countless nations around and below (him), he catches sight of the Ethiopian people and the fields of Cepheus (i.e. the King of Ethiopia). There the unjust Ammon (i.e. an Egyptian and Libyan god, identified with Jupiter by the Romans) had ordered the innocent Andromeda to pay the penalty for her mother's (i.e. Cassiope's) tongue.

When the descendant of Abas (i.e. Perseus) saw her fastened by her arms to the hard rock - he would have thought (her to be) a work of marble, except that a light breeze had ruffled her hair and her eyes were streaming with warm tears - , he unconsciously draws fire and is stunned, and, seized by the vision of the form (he had) seen, he almost forgot to shake his wings in the air. When he landed, he said, "O you who does not deserve these chains, but (rather those) by which ardent lovers are joined to one another, tell (me,) who wants to know, your name and (that of) your country, and why you wear these chains." At first, she says nothing, and, (being) a virgin, she does not dare to address a man, and she would have hidden her face modestly in her hands, if she had not been fettered: (but this was something) which she could (do), she filled her eyes with welling tears. At his repeated insistence, lest she seemed to be unwilling to acknowledge any fault of her own, she declares her name and (the name of) her country, and how great had been her mother's faith in her beauty. And, (while) everything had not yet been mentioned, the waves sounded, and a monster, coming from the deep sea, menaces (them), and takes possession of a wide stretch of sea beneath its breast.

The maiden cries out: her grieving father (i.e. Cepheus) and mother (i.e. Cassiope) are there together, both wretched, but she more deservedly (so). They bring no help with them, but (only) weeping and lamentation befitting the moment, and they cling to her fettered body. Then, the stranger (i.e. Perseus) speaks: "Plenty of time can be left to you for tears: (but only) a short time is available for action. If I, Perseus, the son of Jupiter and she whom Jupiter filled with a rich (shower of) golden rain (when she was) imprisoned (i.e. Danaë), that Perseus, (who was) the conqueror of the snake-haired Gorgon (i.e. Medusa) and who has ventured to fly through the aerial breezes on restless wings, were to seek her, I should surely be preferred to all (others as) a son-in-law. (If) only the gods should favour me, I will also try to add (further) merit to so great a marriage portion; I shall make a bargain, that, (when she is) rescued by my valour, she will be mine." Her parents accept the contract - for who (in such circumstances) would hesitate? -  and they entreat (him) and promise (him) a kingdom in addition as his dowry.

Ll. 706-752.  Perseus defeats the sea-serpent.

See, how the creature (comes), parting the waves by the force of its breast, like a speedy ship, with pointed prow, ploughs the waters, driven by the sweaty forearms of her crew; it was as far from the rock as a Balearic sling can send a whirling leaden-shot through the midst of the air: then suddenly the young man, pushing his feet from the ground, rose upwards to the clouds. When the shadow of a man appeared on the top of the surface of the water, the creature rages at the shadow. And, just as Jupiter's bird (i.e. an eagle), when it has seen a serpent in an open field, showing Phoebus (i.e. the sun) its livid body, seizes (it) from behind, (and) fixes its eager talons in its scaly neck, lest it twists back its cruel fangs, so the descendant of Inachus (i.e. Perseus, who derived from the royal house of Argos), hurling (himself) headlong, in his swift flight through the empty (air), attacked the beast's back, and, as it screamed, he buried his sword, right up to its curved hilt, in its right shoulder.   

Hurt by the deep wound, now it rears up high into the air, now it dives under the water, and now it turns, like a fierce wild boar, when a baying pack of hounds scares (it). He (i.e. Perseus) evades the eager jaws by means of his swift wings, and wounds (it) with his curved sword wherever it is exposed, now its back, the top (of which) is thickly covered with hollow shells, now the ribs of its sides, now its tail where at its thinnest it ends like a fish. The monster vomits from its mouth seawater mixed with purple blood: its wings, (now) heavy, were soaked in spray. Perseus, not daring to trust his drenched winged-sandals any further, caught sight of a rock, which, at its highest point, stands out above the water (when it is) calm, but is covered over by the water (when it is) rough. Resting there, and holding on to the topmost pinnacle of the rock with his left(-hand), he drove his sword repeatedly through its entrails three or four times. 

The noise of applause filled the shorelines and the lofty dwellings of the gods: Cassiope and father Cepheus rejoice and greet their son-in-law and acknowledge (him as) the pillar of their household and their saviour. Released from her chains, the maiden (i.e. Andromeda) comes forward, both the prize and the cause of his efforts. He washes his victorious hands in water (which is) drawn (for him), and, lest the harsh sand should bruise that snake-infested head, he softens the ground with leaves and strews (on it) plants grown under water, and (then) lays the face of Medusa, the daughter of Phorcys, (on them). The fresh plants, still absorbent and with their pith alive, seize hold of the monster's strength, and hardened at its touch, and took on a new toughness in its branches and foliage. And the ocean nymphs try out this wonderful exploit on more plants, and are delighted that the same (thing) happens, and repeat (it by) scattering seeds from them among the waves. Now even the same nature affected coral-stones, so that they acquire a hardness from a touch of air, and what was willow in the water becomes stone above water.

Ll. 753-803.  Perseus tells the story of Medusa.

To the three gods, he (i.e. Perseus) builds the same number of altars out of turf: on the left to Mercury, on the right to you, (O) warlike virgin (i.e. Minerva), (and) there is an altar to Jupiter in the centre. A cow is sacrificed to Minerva, a calf to the wing-footed (god) (i.e. Mercury), and a bull to you, (O) greatest of the gods (i.e. Jupiter). Straightaway, he claims Andromeda as the portionless prize of his great deed: Hymen and Amor wave the marriage torch, the fires are saturated with bountiful perfumes, garlands hang down from the rafters, and everywhere there is the sound of flutes, pipes and singing, the happy evidence of joyous hearts. The folding-doors having been unbarred, the whole golden hall lies open, and Cepheus' chieftains enter the king's banquet (which has been) set out with fine preparation.

When they have done justice to the feast, they cheered their spirits through the gift of generous Bacchus (i.e. wine), and the descendant of Lynceus (i.e. Perseus) asks about the culture and the people of the country, its customs and the spirit of its heroes. (So) the descendant of Abas (i.e. Perseus) asks; in response to his question, the one who immediately tells the descendant of Lynceus about the customs and the spirit of their heroes, at the same time as he tells (him) about (these matters), said, "O most valiant Perseus, I beg (you), tell (us) by what prowess and by what arts you carried off that face with snakes for hair."

The descendant of Agenor (i.e. Perseus) tells (how) there is a spot lying below the frozen (slopes of Mount) Atlas (which is) secure in the bulwark of its solid mass; at its entrance lived sisters, similar in appearance, the daughters of Phorcys (i.e. the three Graeae: Deino, Enyo and Pemphredo), who shared the use of a single eye (between them). He took it stealthily (and) with skilful adroitness, substituting his own hand, while it was being passed around (from one to another), and, far from there, by hidden out-of-the-way (tracks) and (over) rocks bristling with rough shrubs, he reached the habitation of the Gorgons (i.e. Medusa, Stheino and Euryale, also daughters of Phorcys), and, here and there, among the fields and along the paths, he saw the shapes of men and wild animals turned from their own (natures) to hard stone, after seeing Medusa. Yet, he caught sight of dread Medusa's visage, reflected in the bronze shield which he bore on his left (side), and, while a deep sleep took hold of both her snakes and herself, he struck her head from her neck; and Pegasus, swift on his wings (i.e. the flying horse, afterwards ridden by Bellerophon in his conquest of the Chimaera),  and his brother (i.e. the warrior Chrysaor) (were) born from their mother's blood. Then, he told (them) of the very real dangers of his long journey, (and) which seas, (and) which lands he had seen beneath him from his high (position in the sky), and which stars he had struck with his beating wings.

Yet he (still) finished speaking before (this was) welcome. (Then,) one of the many chieftains speaks next, asking why, alone of her sisters, she (i.e. Medusa) had borne snakes intermingled one after the other in her hair.

Their guest (i.e. Perseus) replies: "Since you seek to know (something which is) worth telling, hear the cause of what you are asking about. She was (once) most distinguished for her beauty, and (was) the jealously regarded hope of many suitors: of all her (charms), no feature (was) more admired than her hair. I came across (someone) who recalled that he had seen (her). The ruler of the sea (i.e. Neptune) violated her in the temple of Minerva. Jupiter's daughter turned away and hid her chaste countenance behind her aegis (i.e. shield). Lest this should go unpunished, she changed the Gorgon's hair into foul serpents. Now also, so as to frighten her enemies and paralyse (them) with fear, she sustains the snakes, which she created, on the front of her breast."