Introduction:
For an introduction to Ovid and the work as a whole, the reader is invited to look at the introduction to the translation of "Metamorphoses" Book I, published on this blog on 1st February 2018.
Book IX continues the theme of 'the pathos of love', which began on l. 401 of Book VI. The book focuses in particular on Hercules, and the later on the incestuous love of Byblis for her twin-brother Caunus. The 'metamorphosis' myths it recounts are as follows: i) Hercules and Acheloüs; ii) the rape of Deianira; iii) Nessus' blood turns into poison; iv) the death of Hercules; v) Hercules' birth; vi) Galanthis is turned into a weasel; vii) Dryope becomes a lotus-tree; viii) Iolaus is made young again; ix) Callirhoë's young sons become young men in order to avenge their father Alcmaeon; x) Byblis' tears become a fountain; and xi) Iphis turns from a girl into a boy.
A. HERCULES AND ACHELOÜS
For an introduction to Ovid and the work as a whole, the reader is invited to look at the introduction to the translation of "Metamorphoses" Book I, published on this blog on 1st February 2018.
Book IX continues the theme of 'the pathos of love', which began on l. 401 of Book VI. The book focuses in particular on Hercules, and the later on the incestuous love of Byblis for her twin-brother Caunus. The 'metamorphosis' myths it recounts are as follows: i) Hercules and Acheloüs; ii) the rape of Deianira; iii) Nessus' blood turns into poison; iv) the death of Hercules; v) Hercules' birth; vi) Galanthis is turned into a weasel; vii) Dryope becomes a lotus-tree; viii) Iolaus is made young again; ix) Callirhoë's young sons become young men in order to avenge their father Alcmaeon; x) Byblis' tears become a fountain; and xi) Iphis turns from a girl into a boy.
A. HERCULES AND ACHELOÜS
Ll. 1-97. Acheloüs wrestles with Hercules.
The hero (who was reputed to be) the son of Neptune (i.e. Theseus) asks the god (i.e. Acheloüs) what (was) the reason for his groans and (the cause) of his disfigured forehead; to him the Calydonian river (god), his uncut hair wreathed with reeds, began (to reply) as follows:
"You ask about a sad affair. For who wants to recall his own lost battles? Yet I will tell (it) as it happened. It was no more shameful (for me) to have been defeated than it was glorious (for me) to have fought, and the fame of the victor affords me great consolation. Deianira, if ever her name has come to your ears in (the course of) conversation, was once the most beautiful of maidens, and was the enviable hope of many suitors. When I entered, with them, the house of the father-in-law I was seeking (i.e. Oeneus), I said, 'Accept me (as) your son-in-law, (O) son of Parthaon:' and (so) spoke the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules). The others yielded to the two (of us). He proclaimed that he could offer Jupiter (as) a father-in-law, and (spoke of) the glory of his labours and the demands of his step-mother (i.e. Juno), (which he had) surmounted. In reply, I said, '(It would be) shameful for a god to concede to a mortal - for he was not yet a god - ; (in) me you see the master of the waters that flow in winding courses across your realm. (As) your son-in-law I would not be a stranger sent to you from a foreign shore, but a native, sharing your interests alone. Only let it not harm (my case) that royal Juno does not hate me, and that the penalty of those labours she ordered passes (me) by. For, (you) son of Alcmena, Jupiter, from whom you boast that you (were) born, is either a false father or a true (one) by a wicked act. You seek your father in your mother's adultery, Choose (whether) you prefer the fiction that Jupiter is (your father) or that you (were) born by a shameful act.'
"All the time I was saying these (things), he gazes at (me) with wild eyes, and he does not control his strongly burning wrath, but replies in so many words: 'My right(-hand) is stronger than my tongue. As long as I can beat (you) in fighting, you can win at talking;' and he comes at me fiercely. I was ashamed to retreat, after having just spoken so strongly: (so) I removed the green robes from my body, and put up my arms and held my hands bent in front of my chest in (fighting) stance, and prepared my limbs for the fight. He scoops up dust in his hollow hand-palms and throws it over me, and he turns yellow in turn at the contact with the tawny sand. And now he catches my neck, and now my quivering shanks, or you might think that he catches (me), and he attacks (me) from every side. My weight protects me and he strove in vain; (I was) just like a massive pile that a great flood attacks with a great noise: it remains, and is secure in its own bulk. We pull apart for a while, and (then) we meet in battle once more, and stood firm in our positions, determined not to yield; and foot was joined with foot, and, leaning forward with my whole chest, I pushed his fingers into my fingers and his head against my head. I have seen (two) strong bulls come together just like that, when they strive for the sleekest mate in the whole pasture: the herd watches, and they are afraid, not knowing to which (one) victory will grant so great a rule. Three times, without success, the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) tried to push my gleaming chest away from him; at the fourth (attempt) he shakes off my grip and loosens (himself) from my restricting arms, and (by) a blow of his hand - I am certainly telling the truth - he spins (me) around forthwith, and clung to my back with all his weight. If you can believe it - nor am I seeking any false credit by saying (it) - I seemed (to have) the weight of a mountain pressing on my back. Yet, with great difficulty, I thrust my arms, pouring with sweat (as they were), under (him), and, with difficulty, I loosened his firm hold on my body: he presses hard upon (me) as I gasp for breath, and prevents (me) from recovering my strength, and he gets hold of my neck. Then, at last, my knee touched the ground, and I bit the sand with my mouth.
"Inferior in strength (to him), I turn to my (magic) arts, and in the shape of a long snake I slip from the man's (grasp). And, when I wound my body into sinuous coils, and, when I darted my forked tongue (at him) with a fierce hiss, the Tirynthian (hero) (i.e. Hercules) laughed, and, mocking my (magic) arts, said, 'It was the task of my (time in) the cradle to overcome snakes, and, although you may get the better of other dragons, Acheloüs, how big a part of the Lernean hydra would your one serpent be? It was (made) fecund by its wounds, and not one of its hundred heads was cut off safely, but its neck was (made) stronger by two successors. I subdued that (monster), branching with snakes sprung from its own destruction and thriving on evil, and, (after it had been) overcome, I disembowelled (it). What do you think will become of you, who, having turned into a false snake, wields unfamiliar weapons, (and) whom a shifting shape conceals?'
He finished speaking, and locks the fetters of his fingers on the top of my neck: I was being throttled, as if my throat (was being) gripped by some forceps, and I was struggling to free my gullet from his thumbs. And so, after this form (i.e. that of a snake) had been overcome, (only) my third shape, (that of) a wild bull, was left: (so) I fight on, my limbs having been changed into (those of) a bull. From the left(-hand) side he claps his arms around my bulging (neck), and he follows (me) as I charge off, tugging (at me), and he pulls down my hard horn and fixes (it) in the ground, and pushes me deep into the sand. Nor was this enough: while his fierce right-hand seizes hold of my hard horn, he broke (it) and tore (it) from my mutilated forehead. The Naiads (i.e. the water-nymphs) have sanctified this (horn) and filled (it) with fruit and sweet-smelling flowers, and my horn is dedicated to the Good (Goddess) of Abundance (i.e. it becomes the Horn of Plenty).
He (i.e. Acheloüs) finished speaking, and one of his maidservants, a nymph, dressed like Diana, with her locks streaming down on both sides, came forward, and brought the whole autumn (harvest), and delicious apples (as) a second course, in her very plentiful horn. The light appears, and, as the first (rays of) the sun struck the (mountain) tops, the young men disperse: for, while the rivers are peaceful and calm, they do not all wait for the falling waters to subside. Acheloüs hid his rustic features and his head, mutilated by its (broken) horn, in the midst of the waves.
B. NESSUS, DEIANIRA AND THE DEATH OF HERCULES
Ll. 98-158. The shirt of Nessus.
The want of that adornment (which had been) taken from (him) humbled him, but he has everything else undamaged; also his loss is hidden by willow leaves or reeds placed on the top of his head. But, fierce Nessus, a passion for the same maiden destroyed you, hit in the back by a flying arrow. For the son of Jupiter (i.e. Hercules), revisiting his native city (i.e. Thebes) with his bride (i.e. Deianira), had come to the swiftly-flowing waters of the Euenus (i.e. a river near Calydon in Aetolia). The river was fuller than usual, having been swelled by winter rains, and (it had) numerous whirlpools, and (was) impassable. Nessus, both strong in limb and aware of the fords, approaches (him), (who, while) undaunted on his own behalf, was feeling some anxiety about his wife, and he says, "With my assistance, (O) grandson of Alceus, she will be set down on the far bank. You should use your strength to swim!" (So) the Aonian (hero) (i.e. the Theban Hercules) handed over the trembling girl to Nessus, (although she was) pale with fear, and afraid of the river and the (centaur) himself. Then, weighed down, as he was, by his quiver and his lion's skin - for he had tossed his club and his curved bow across (to the other) bank - (the hero) said, "Seeing that I have started, let the river be crossed!" He does not hesitate, nor does he look for (the place) where the river was calmest, and he scorns to be swayed by the waters' compliance.
He finished speaking, and locks the fetters of his fingers on the top of my neck: I was being throttled, as if my throat (was being) gripped by some forceps, and I was struggling to free my gullet from his thumbs. And so, after this form (i.e. that of a snake) had been overcome, (only) my third shape, (that of) a wild bull, was left: (so) I fight on, my limbs having been changed into (those of) a bull. From the left(-hand) side he claps his arms around my bulging (neck), and he follows (me) as I charge off, tugging (at me), and he pulls down my hard horn and fixes (it) in the ground, and pushes me deep into the sand. Nor was this enough: while his fierce right-hand seizes hold of my hard horn, he broke (it) and tore (it) from my mutilated forehead. The Naiads (i.e. the water-nymphs) have sanctified this (horn) and filled (it) with fruit and sweet-smelling flowers, and my horn is dedicated to the Good (Goddess) of Abundance (i.e. it becomes the Horn of Plenty).
He (i.e. Acheloüs) finished speaking, and one of his maidservants, a nymph, dressed like Diana, with her locks streaming down on both sides, came forward, and brought the whole autumn (harvest), and delicious apples (as) a second course, in her very plentiful horn. The light appears, and, as the first (rays of) the sun struck the (mountain) tops, the young men disperse: for, while the rivers are peaceful and calm, they do not all wait for the falling waters to subside. Acheloüs hid his rustic features and his head, mutilated by its (broken) horn, in the midst of the waves.
B. NESSUS, DEIANIRA AND THE DEATH OF HERCULES
Ll. 98-158. The shirt of Nessus.
The want of that adornment (which had been) taken from (him) humbled him, but he has everything else undamaged; also his loss is hidden by willow leaves or reeds placed on the top of his head. But, fierce Nessus, a passion for the same maiden destroyed you, hit in the back by a flying arrow. For the son of Jupiter (i.e. Hercules), revisiting his native city (i.e. Thebes) with his bride (i.e. Deianira), had come to the swiftly-flowing waters of the Euenus (i.e. a river near Calydon in Aetolia). The river was fuller than usual, having been swelled by winter rains, and (it had) numerous whirlpools, and (was) impassable. Nessus, both strong in limb and aware of the fords, approaches (him), (who, while) undaunted on his own behalf, was feeling some anxiety about his wife, and he says, "With my assistance, (O) grandson of Alceus, she will be set down on the far bank. You should use your strength to swim!" (So) the Aonian (hero) (i.e. the Theban Hercules) handed over the trembling girl to Nessus, (although she was) pale with fear, and afraid of the river and the (centaur) himself. Then, weighed down, as he was, by his quiver and his lion's skin - for he had tossed his club and his curved bow across (to the other) bank - (the hero) said, "Seeing that I have started, let the river be crossed!" He does not hesitate, nor does he look for (the place) where the river was calmest, and he scorns to be swayed by the waters' compliance.
And now, when he had gained the bank, (and) was picking up his bow, he recognised his wife's voice: and he shouts to Nessus, who was preparing to betray his trust, "Whither is your misplaced confidence in your feet carrying you off, (you man) of violence? I am speaking to you, Nessus, you two-formed (monster). Listen (to me), and do not (seek to) steal what belongs to me! Even if no respect for me moves you, (the thought of) your father's (i.e. Ixion's) whirling wheel should prevent this forbidden union. Still, although you put your trust in your horse's efforts, you will not escape: I shall pursue you with a wound, not with my feet." His action makes good his last words, and he pierces his fleeing back with an arrow: its barbed tip protruded from his breast. As soon as it was pulled out, blood, mixed with the deadly poison of the Lernean (hydra), spurted out from each opening. Nessus catches this, (and) says to himself, "For I shall not die unavenged," and he gives his tunic soaked in blood (as) a gift to the (girl he has) abducted (i.e. Deianira), as though it were an incitement to love.
There was a long intervening period of time, and (the tales of) the deeds of the mighty Hercules, and the hatred of his step-mother, filled the world. (As) the victor at Oechalia (i.e. a city in Euboea, where Hercules had won an archery contest), he was preparing sacrificial offerings to Jupiter, when loquacious Rumour, who delights in adding lies to the truth, and expands her (lies) from the smallest (element of truth) through her falsehood, brought to your ears, Deianira, that the son of Amphitryon (i.e. Hercules), was possessed by a passion for Iole. His loving (wife) believes (it), and, greatly alarmed by the rumour of his new love, the poor (girl) first indulged in tears, and poured forth her grief in weeping; but soon she says, "But why am I weeping? That concubine will laugh at these tears (of mine). Since she is coming (here), I must hurry and plan something, while I (still) can, and another does not yet occupy my bed-chamber. Should I complain or keep silent? Should I go back to Calydon or stay (here)? Should I leave my house or, if (I can do) nothing more, should I stand in their way? What if, mindful that I am your sister, Meleager, I boldly prepare a crime, and, by cutting my rival's throat, I show just what revenge and a woman's grief can (do)?"
There was a long intervening period of time, and (the tales of) the deeds of the mighty Hercules, and the hatred of his step-mother, filled the world. (As) the victor at Oechalia (i.e. a city in Euboea, where Hercules had won an archery contest), he was preparing sacrificial offerings to Jupiter, when loquacious Rumour, who delights in adding lies to the truth, and expands her (lies) from the smallest (element of truth) through her falsehood, brought to your ears, Deianira, that the son of Amphitryon (i.e. Hercules), was possessed by a passion for Iole. His loving (wife) believes (it), and, greatly alarmed by the rumour of his new love, the poor (girl) first indulged in tears, and poured forth her grief in weeping; but soon she says, "But why am I weeping? That concubine will laugh at these tears (of mine). Since she is coming (here), I must hurry and plan something, while I (still) can, and another does not yet occupy my bed-chamber. Should I complain or keep silent? Should I go back to Calydon or stay (here)? Should I leave my house or, if (I can do) nothing more, should I stand in their way? What if, mindful that I am your sister, Meleager, I boldly prepare a crime, and, by cutting my rival's throat, I show just what revenge and a woman's grief can (do)?"
She traces various courses in her mind: of all of these, she preferred (that) of sending (him) the tunic (which was) steeped in Nessus' blood, so as to restore the strength of his waning love. Unwittingly, she entrusts her grief to Lichas, (who is) unaware of what she is entrusting, and with coaxing words that most unfortunate (woman) tells (him) to give the present to her husband. The unsuspecting hero takes (it), and the venom of the Lernean hydra is put upon his shoulders.
Ll. 159-210. The agony of Hercules.
He was offering incense and words of prayer over the first flames, and was pouring a bowl of wine on to the altars: the dreadful force of the venom grew hot, and, released by the flames, it dissolved, dispersing widely across Hercules' limbs. With his usual courage, he repressed his groans, while he could; (but,) when his ability to endure the venom was exhausted, he overturned the altars, and filled (all of) wooded Oeta (i.e. a mountain range between Aetolia and Thessaly) with his cries. Immediately, he tries to rip off the fatal garment: (but,) where it does come off, it pulls off his skin (with it), and - revolting to relate - it either sticks to his limbs, after he has tried in vain to tear (it) off, or it exposes his lacerated limbs and his huge bones. His blood, itself, hisses and boils with the burning venom, like when an incandescent plate of metal (is) plunged into a cold pool. There is no end (to his suffering): the greedy flames swallow his chest, and a dark-coloured sweat pours from the whole of his body, and his scorched sinews crackle: his marrow turning to liquid with the secret putrefaction, he lifts his palms to the heavens and cries, "(Come,) daughter of Saturn (i.e. Juno), feed, feed on my ruin, (O you) cruel (one), and gaze from on high at this destruction, and sate your savage heart. Or, if this (suffering) seems pitiable, even to an enemy, (and) if I am (pitiable) to you, take away this sorrowful and hateful life (of mine), with its frightful torments, (that was) made (only) for toil; it would be a fitting gift for a stepmother to bestow. So, (was it for this) that I overcame Busiris, (i.e. the king of Egypt) who defiled the temples with the blood of strangers, and that I stole his mother's support from the savage Antaeus (i.e. by lifting him, the giant king of Libya, up off the ground). (Was it for this) that the triple form of the Iberian herdsman (i.e. Geryon, the king of Tartessus near the Pillars of Hercules), or your triple form, Cerberus (i.e. the dog who guards the entrance to the Underworld), did not worry me? (Was it for this,) (O) you hands (of mine), that you dragged down the horns of the strong bull (i.e. the bull that was ravaging the island of Crete)? (Was it for this) that Elis (i.e. where he cleansed the Augean stables), and the waters of Stymphalus (i.e. the lake in Arcadia where he killed the man-eating birds), and the woods of Parthenius (i.e. a mountain in Arcadia where he captured the Ceryneian Hind) know of your efforts? (Was it for this), that, by your virtue (i.e. that of his hands), the gold-engraved girdle of Thermodon (i.e. the river of Pontus, near which was the home of Hippolyte, the Queen of the Amazons, who owned the girdle) (was) carried off, as were the apples guarded by the sleepless dragon (i.e. the golden apples of the Hesperides)? (Was it for this) that the Centaurs could not withstand me, nor that boar that ravaged Arcadia (i.e. the Erymanthian boar)? (Was it for this) that it did not help the hydra (i.e. the Lernean Hydra) to thrive on destruction and take up a redoubled strength? What (of the time) when I saw the Thracian's (i.e. Diomedes') horses fat on human blood, and their stalls full of mutilated bodies, and, having seen (this,) I cut (them) down and killed both them and their master. The Nemean monster (i.e. the Lion) lies crushed by these arms (of mine), (and) I bore the sky on this my neck. Jupiter's cruel consort is tired of giving orders; (but) I am not tired of performing (them). But (now) a strange disease is affecting (me), which cannot be resisted by courage, or by weapons and armour. Deep in my lungs, there wanders a devouring fire, and it is feeding the whole of my body. But Eurystheus is (alive and) well! And there are (those) who can (still) believe that the gods exist!" (So) he spoke, and he walks across the heights of Oeta just like a bull carries a hunting spear embedded in its body, but the agent of the deed has run away. You can see him (there) in the mountains in his anger, often issuing groans, often shouting out, often attempting again and again to tear off the whole of the garment, and strewing tree-trunks (around) or stretching out his arms to his native skies.
Ll. 211-272. The death and transformation of Hercules.
Look, he catches sight of the trembling Lichas, lurking in a hollowed-out rock, and, when pain had concentrated all his fury, he said, "(Was it) you, Lichas, (who) gave (me) this fatal gift? Are you going to be the agent of my death?" He (i.e. Lichas) trembles and grows pale with fear and timidly utters words to excuse (himself). While he was speaking and trying to apply his hands to the (hero's) knees, the grandson of Alceus (i.e. Hercules) seizes (him), and, swinging (him) around three or four times, he hurls him) into the Euboean waters more forcefully than a bolt from a catapult. Hanging in the air, he hardened in the breezes, and as rain is said to freeze in the icy winds (and) then to become snow, and thus to be bound by its whirling snowflakes (into) a soft mass and formed into thick hailstones, so (the tradition) of former times stated that he, flung by strong arms through the void, and, (his face) drained of blood through fright and possessing no moisture at all, (was) turned into hard flint. Even now in the Euboean gulf a low rock rises out of the deep and keeps the traces of a human shape; sailors are afraid to set foot on it, as if it could feel (them), and they call (it) Lichas.
But you, famous son of Jupiter (i.e. Hercules) felled the trees which steep Oeta had produced, and heaped (them) up into a pyre, and you command the son of Poeas (i.e. Philoctetes), through whose services the flame was plunged beneath (it), to take your bow and your capacious quiver and the arrows (that were) destined to see the kingdom of Troy once more; and, while the mound is caught alight by the eager flames, you spread the pelt of the Nemean (Lion) on top of the mass of wood, and you lie down with your neck resting on your club, with an aspect just as if you were reclining (as) a guest, crowned with garlands, among cups full of wine.
And now the flames, (which were) strong and spreading on every side, were crackling and were licking his unconcerned limbs and his (body), scornful (though it was) of their power; the gods were fearful for earth's champion. Saturnian Jupiter addresses them thus with a glad voice, for he understood (their feelings): "O gods, that fear (of yours) is a delight to me, and I readily congratulate myself with all my heart that I am called ruler and father of a thoughtful people, and that my offspring (i.e. Hercules) is protected by your favour also. For, although you give this (tribute) to his great deeds, yet I, myself, am obliged (to you). But do not alarm your loyal hearts with groundless fear: ignore Oeta's flames! (He) who has conquered everything will conquer those fires, nor will he feel the power of Vulcan, except in the part (of him) which comes from his mother (i.e. Alcmene): (the part) which he has drawn from me is eternal and has no part in, and is immune from, death, and yields to no flame. (When it is) done with the earth, I shall receive it into the celestial regions, and I trust that my action will be pleasing to all of the gods. But if anyone, anyone (at all), should perhaps be grieving that Hercules (is becoming) a god, (and) should be unwilling for this reward to be granted, he should know it was given through merit, and he should approve (it), (even if) reluctantly."
The gods agreed: even his royal consort (i.e. Juno) seemed to have received the rest of Jupiter's words happily enough, but (she received) his last (words) with an unhappy face, and was distressed that she (had been) stigmatised.
Meanwhile, Mulciber (i.e. Vulcan) had consumed whatever was susceptible to flame, and no recognisable form of Hercules remained; nor does he have anything drawn from the shape of his mother, and he only keeps the traces of Jupiter. And just as a new-looking snake, having sloughed its skin, is accustomed to enjoy its old age and to gleam in its fresh scales, so, when the Tirynthian (hero) (i.e. Hercules) has shed his mortal limbs, he thrives in his better part and starts to appear greater and to become revered in his majestic dignity. The almighty father (of the gods) carries him through the hollow clouds in his four-horse chariot and sets (him) among the shining stars.
C. GALANTHIS AND THE BIRTH OF HERCULES
Ll. 273-323. Alcmena tells of Hercules' birth and of Galanthis.
Atlas felt his weight. (But) Eurystheus, the son of Sthenelus, (i.e. the High-King of Mycenae who tasked Hercules with the Twelve Labours) had not yet lessened his anger, and he cultivated his unrelenting hatred of the father (i.e. Hercules) through his offspring. But Argive Alcmena, troubled by endless anxieties, when she expresses the laments of an old woman, has Iole (as someone) to whom she can recount her son's labours, known (as there are) to (all) the world, as well as her own misfortunes. At the command of Hercules, Hyllus (i.e. his son by Deianira) had taken her to his marriage-bed and his heart, and had filled her womb with a seed of noble birth; to her Alcmena begins (to speak) as follows: "Let the divine powers favour you at least, and shorten the period of time, at the moment, when, in childbirth, you call upon that Eileithyia (i.e. the Greek goddess of childbirth), who watches over (all) frightened mothers, (but) whom the influence of Juno made awkward to me.
"Now, when the time for Hercules' difficult birth had come, and the tenth sign (of the zodiac) (i.e. Capricorn) was suppressed by the sun, the (child's) weight stretched my womb; and what I was carrying was so great that you could tell that the author of my hidden burden was Jupiter. Nor could I bear my labour (pains) much longer: indeed, even now, a cold horror takes hold of my body, as I speak, and the memory (of it) brings (me) much pain. Tortured for seven nights (and) as many days, worn out by my pains, and, stretching out my arms towards heaven, I called, with a loud voice, upon Lucina (i.e. the Roman name for the goddess of childbirth, and one of the manifestations of Juno) and her companions, the Nixi (i.e. the Kneelers, the three guardian deities of women in labour). She came indeed, but she had been corrupted beforehand, and was determined to give my life to the unjust Juno. And, as she listens to my groans, she sat on the altar in front of the door, and, with her right knee crossed over her left knee and with her fingers joined together on a comb, she stopped the birth. She murmured spells too in a low voice, and these spells halted the delivery (when it had) begun. I labour, and in my maddened state, I make vain taunts at the ungrateful Jupiter, and I want to die, and, as I lament, my words would have moved the hard flinty (rocks). The women of Cadmus (i.e. of Thebes) were there and they take up my prayers and encourage (me) in my pain. One of my maidservants, the yellow-haired Galanthis, was there, coming from the common people, (but) punctilious in carrying out my orders (and) beloved (by me) for her services. She sensed that Juno was up to something, and, as she was coming in and going out of doors quite often, she saw the goddess sitting on the altar, resting her arms on her knees, linked by her fingers, and she says, 'Whoever you are, do congratulate the mistress: Argive Alcmena is (now) comfortable, and is in possession of a child through her prayers.'
The goddess with power over the womb (i.e. Eileithyia/ Lucina) jumped up in a panic, and released her hands: by the release of those bonds I, myself, am relieved. The story goes that, when the goddess was tricked, Galanthis laughed: as she laughed the cruel goddess caught (her) by her hair and dragged (her) down, and, as she tried to raise her body from the ground, she held her (back) and changed her arms into fore-legs. Her old energy remains, and (the hair on) her back does not lose its colour; (but) her shape is (now) different from (what it was) previously (i.e. she has become a weasel - γαλῆ in Greek). Because she had helped (me) to bear a child by means of her lying mouth, she gives birth through her mouth, and (still) frequents my house as before."
D. DRYOPE, IOLAÜS AND THE SONS OF CALLIRHOË
Ll. 324-393. Iole tells the story of her half-sister Dryope.
(So) she (i.e. Alcmena) spoke, and she sighed, moved by the memory of her former maid-servant (i.e. Galanthis). As she grieved, her daughter-in-law (i.e. Iole) addressed her in these words: "Yet, O mother, (it is) the stolen form of (someone) different from your own blood (that) is affecting you. What if I were to relate to you the strange fate of my sister? though tears and sadness hold (me) back and hinder (me) from speaking. Dryope, the most renowned beauty in Oechalia (i.e. a city in Euboea), was her mother's only (child) - my father (i.e. Eurytus) begat me through another (wife). Having suffered from the violence of the god who holds Delphi and Delos (i.e. Apollo), and having lost her virginity, Andraemon takes her, and is considered fortunate in his wife.
"There is a lake, which effects the shape of a sloping shoreline through its steep banks: myrtle-groves crown its upper slopes. Dryope had gone there, unaware of any ill-omens, and, so that you may be (even) more displeased, bringing garlands for the nymphs; on her bosom she bore a sweet burden, her boy, who had not yet completed a year (of age), and she was nourishing (him) with the succour of warm milk. Not far from this lake, an aquatic lotus-tree, its colours imitating Tyrian (purples), flowered in expectation of fruit. From these Dryope had picked some blossoms which she offered to her son (as) amusements, and I was thinking of doing the same (thing) - for I was there (with her) - (when) I saw some drops of blood falling from the blossoms and the branches disturbed by a shivering horror. It is now clear, as the rustic (people) at last tardily tell (us), that Lotis, a nymph fleeing from the lusts of Priapus (i.e. the god of procreation), had altered her appearance and had transformed (herself) into this (tree), while keeping her name.
"My sister had not known of this. When, in her fear, she tried to go back, and to escape by praying to the nymphs, her feet stuck fast like roots. She struggles to tear (them) away, but nothing moves except her top (parts). Bark gradually grows from her feet and slowly covers all of her groin. When she saw (this), and tried to tear at her hair with her hands, she filled her hands with leaves: leaves occupied the whole of her head. But the boy Amphissos - for his grandfather Eurytus had assigned this name to him - feels his mother's breasts harden, nor did the milky liquid (still) flow when he sucked.
"I was there (as) a spectator of your cruel fate, sister, and could not bring you any help, but, as far as I could, I held back the growing trunk and branches by my embraces, and I confess that I longed to be concealed beneath that same bark. Behold, her husband Andraemon and her most wretched father (i.e. Eurytus) are there, and they look for Dryope: to them, as they are searching for Dryope, I pointed out the lotus-tree. They kissed the warm wood, and, prostrate (on the ground), they cling to the roots of their tree. My dear sister possessed nothing that was not already tree, except her face: tears rain down on the leaves made from her poor body, and your mouth offers a passage for your voice, while it (still) can, and pours out the following lamentations into the air: 'If wretched (women) can have any credit, I swear by the gods that I have not merited this wrong: I am suffering a punishment without (having committed) any crime. I have lived in innocence: if I am lying, let me lose the leaves which I have through drought, and may I be cut down with axes and burned. Yet take this child away from his mother's branches and give (him) a nurse; and make him often drink his milk under my tree and let him play under my tree! And, when he can talk, make him greet his mother and say sadly, "My mother is concealed in this tree-trunk." Let him still fear lakes and pick no blossoms from the trees, and let him think that all shrubs are the body of a goddess! Farewell, my dear husband, and you, my sister, and my father! If you (still) have any love (for me), defend (me) from the assaults of the sharp sickle, (and) my leaves from the bites of cattle. And, since I am not allowed to bend down to you, raise up your arms (to me) here, and find my lips, while they can (still) be touched, and lift up my little son (to me). I cannot speak any more. For now the soft bark is spreading across my white neck, and I am imprisoned at the very top. Take your hands away from my eyes: without your assistance, let the enveloping bark cover the dying light!' At the very moment when her mouth ceased speaking, at that moment (it ceased) to exist, but for a long while the freshly grown branches glowed (with warmth) from her altered body."
Ll. 394-417. The prophecies of Themis.
While Iole is recounting this marvellous happening, and while Alcmena is wiping away Eurytus' daughter's (i.e. Iole's) tears by applying her thumb - (although) she is also weeping herself as well - a strange event suppressed all sadness. For there, on the steep threshold, stood Iolaüs, his face transformed into (that) of his early years, almost (like that of) a boy with a hint of down covering his cheeks. Overwhelmed by the prayers of her husband (i.e. Hercules), Juno's daughter, Hebe, had granted him this gift. When she was preparing to swear that, after this, she would not bestow any such gifts to anyone, Themis (i.e. the goddess of justice and prophecy) would not allow (it). "For Thebes is now moving towards a civil war," she spoke (in prophecy), "and Capaneus cannot be overcome except by Jupiter, and the pair of brothers (i.e. Eteocles and Polynices) will engage in battle, and the seer (i.e. Amphiaraüs), (while he is) still alive will see his own ghost swallowed by the earth; his son (i.e. Alcmaeon) will avenge (one) parent by means of (the other) parent, (being both) dutiful and accursed by the same deed; horrified by his evil (acts), (and being) an exile both from sanity and from his home, he will be pursued by the Eumenides (i.e. the Furies) and his mother's (i.e. Eriphyle's) shade, until his wife (i.e. Callirhoë) demands of him the fatal gold (necklace), and the sword of Phegeus (i.e. the King of Psophis, whose sons had killed Alcmaeon because he had deserted their sister Arsinoë to marry Callirhoë) drains (the blood of) his kinsman's body. Then at last, Callirhoë, the daughter of Acheloüs, will humbly ask mighty Jupiter to add such years to her infant sons (i.e. Amphiterus and Acarnanus) so as not to let the avenger's (i.e. Alcmaeon's) murder be unavenged. Moved by these (prayers), Jupiter will anticipate the gifts of his step-daughter and daughter-in-law (i.e. Hebe, who was reputed to have been conceived by Juno without a father and who was then married to Hercules, Jupiter's son by Alcmena), and will make (them) men in their childhood years.
E. BYBLIS AND CAUNUS
Ll. 418-438. Jupiter acknowledges the power of fate.
When Themis, prescient of the future, spoke these (words) from her prophetic mouth, the gods grumble in various mutterings, and there was a murmur (as to) "Why they were not able to grant the same gift to other (mortals)": the daughter of Pallas (i.e. Aurora, the dawn) complains about the old age of her husband (i.e. Tithonius), gentle Ceres laments that Iasion's hair is growing white, Mulciber (i.e. Vulcan) demands a second life for Erichthonius (i.e. his son and a king of Athens). Concern for the future also touches Venus, and she bargains to renew the age of Anchises (i.e. the father of Aeneas). Each god has (someone whose cause) he supports, and the troublesome mutiny grows, until Jupiter opens his mouth and said, "O if you have any regard for me, where (on earth) are you heading to? Does anyone think he can do so much that he can even overcome fate? Through fate, Iolaüs has returned to those years which he has spent. Callirhoë's sons should grow to manhood through fate, not through ambition or (force of) arms. Fate even rules you (and) me also, and for this (reason) you should bear it with a more contented mind. If I had the power to alter it, these late years would not bow down my Aeacus, and Rhadamanthus would have the perpetual flower of youth, together with my Minos, who is despised because of the bitter weight of old age, and no longer rules in the way in which (he did) before.
Ll. 439-516. Byblis falls in love with her twin-brother Caunus.
Jupiter's words swayed the gods, nor could anyone (of them) sustain a complaint, when they could see Rhadamanthus, Aeacus and Minos exhausted by their years. The latter, when he was untouched by age, made great nations tremble even at his very name. (But) now he was weak, and he feared Miletus, the son of Deione, (who was) proud of his youthful strength and of his father, Phoebus, and, although he believed that he might rise up against his realm, he did not dare to deny (him) access to his native land.
Of your own accord, Miletus, you fly away, and you traverse the waters of the Aegean in your swift ship, and you build a city on Asian soil, which (still) possesses its founder's name (i.e. Miletus in Caria).
There Cyanee, the daughter of the Maeander (i.e. the river in Lydia famous for its 'meandering' course), which so often goes back on itself, was known to you, as she follows the windings of her father's banks, (and) she gives birth to twin children with bodies of outstanding beauty, Byblis and Caunus. Byblis serves as a warning that girls should love in compliance (with the law): Byblis (was) seized with desire for her brother: she loved her brother not as a sister, nor as she should (have done). At first, it's true, she does not appreciate at all the fires (of love), nor does she think (it) a sin that they should kiss quite often or that she should put her arms around her brother's neck, and she is deceived by the misleading resemblance to sisterly affection. Gradually, her love goes astray, and she comes to see her brother (very) well-dressed and wants too much to be seen as beautiful, and, if anyone seems more beautiful to him, she is jealous of that (person). But this is not yet clear to her, and she has no inner longing for passion: nevertheless, it burns within (her). Now she calls (him) her lord, now she hates the name of blood(-relation): now she prefers that he should call her Byblis rather than sister. Yet, while she is awake, she does not venture to impress those indecent hopes on her mind: (but,) dissolved in peaceful sleep, she often sees what she wants; she also seems to join her body to her brother, and she has blushed, although she was lying fast asleep.
Her sleep is (now) gone: she is still for some time and she, herself, recalls the imagery of her dream, and, with her heart wavering, she speaks out as follows: "(What) a wretched (person) I (am)! What does this vision in the silence of the night mean? I do not want it to be true! (But) why have I seen these dreams? He is really handsome and pleasing (to look at), even to hostile eyes, and, if he were not my brother, I should be able to love (him) and he would be worthy of my (love). It is truly my misfortune to be his sister. So long as I am not tempted to do any such (things), (while I am) awake, let sleep often return with similar visions! There is no witness in sleep, but the imagined pleasure is not lacking. O (in the name of) Venus and winged Cupid, together with his tender mother, what great joys did I have! What clear passion touched me! (How my body) dissolved (with passion) right down to its very core! What joy there is in remembering (it)! Though that pleasure was short-lived, and night was rushing onwards, as though (it were) envious of my doings. O, if I could have been joined (to you) with a different name, how good a daughter-in-law I could have been to your father, Caunus! (And,) how good a son-in-law you could have been to my father, Caunus! Should the gods have made (it so), we should have everything in common, except our grandfathers: I would have wanted you to be nobler than me! So you, most beautiful (one), will make someone else a mother: but to me, because, in my misfortune, I have been allotted the (same) parents as you, you will be nothing but a brother. We shall have that one (thing) that hinders us. So, what do my visions indicate to me? Indeed, what importance do dreams have? Or do dreams actually have any importance? (May) the gods (do) better (than men)! For to be sure, the gods have possessed their own sisters. So, Saturn married Ops, (who was) related to him by blood, Oceanus (married) Tethys, (and) the ruler of Olympus (married) Juno. The gods have their own laws! Why am I trying to relate human customs to different heavenly laws? Either my forbidden passion will be driven from my heart, or, if I cannot achieve this, I pray that I may perish, and that I may be laid out dead upon my couch and that my brother may kiss (me when I have been) placed (there). But yet that requires the consent of the two (of us). Suppose it pleases me: to him it will seem to be a crime! But the sons of Aeolus did not fear their sisters' bed-chambers! But from where did I learn that? Why do I have such examples ready to hand? Where am I going to? Depart, unnatural flames, far away from here, and may my brother not be loved except as it is lawful (and decent) for a sister! Yet, if he, himself, had first been captivated by love for me, perhaps I might be able to give way to this madness. So let me, myself, woo (him) whom I would not have repulsed (if he were) wooing (me). Can you say (it)? Can you confess (it)? Love will compel (me): I can! Or, if shame seals my lips, a secret letter will confess my hidden passions."
Ll. 517-594. The fatal letter.
This (idea) pleases (her), (and) this decision overcomes the doubt (in) her mind. She raises (herself) up on her side, and, leaning on her left elbow, she says, "Let him see (it): let me confess my frantic desires. Oh, me! To where am I falling? What (vehement) flame is my heart conceiving?" And with a trembling hand she writes down the words (she has been) contemplating: her right(-hand) holds the iron (pen), the other (hand) holds the wax (tablet). She begins and (then) hesitates, she writes and (then) condemns her writing, and she scribbles and (then) rubs out, she alters (things), criticises, and (then) approves (them), and, in turn, she puts down what she has taken up and (then) takes up again what she has put down. She does not know what she wants; whatever she thinks she is about to write, she is displeased (with it). In the look on her face boldness is mixed with shame. She had written "sister", (but) she decided to erase (the name of) sister and to inscribe the following words on the corrected tablet: "That (long and) healthy life, which she will not have, unless you grant (it), a loving (maiden) sends it to you: she is ashamed, O ashamed to utter her name, and, if you ask what I desire, I should wish that my cause could be pleaded without my name (being given), nor should I be known (as) Byblis until the expectation of my hopes had been realised.
"My pale complexion, and my leanness, and sad countenance, and my eyes (so) often full of tears, and those sighs (of mine), issued with no apparent cause, and my frequent embraces, and those kisses, which, if you had happened to notice, could not have felt like those of a sister, could indeed have been (seen) by you (as) signs of my wounded heart: yet, although I had a deep wound within my soul, (and) although the fiery madness was within (me), I, myself, have done everything (I can) to become calmer at last, and for a long time I have struggled unhappily to escape Cupid's violent darts, and I have endured more hardships than you would think a girl could bear. I am forced to confess that (I have been) overcome, and to beg your help with fearful prayers. You alone can save your lover, you (alone) can destroy (her): choose which one you wish! It (is) not your enemy that prays to (you), but (one) who, although she is joined to you most closely, seeks to be joined more closely (still), and to be bound to you with a tighter bond. Let old people know (what is) right, and let them seek after what is allowed and (what) is sinful and lawful, and let them preserve the justice of the law: to (those of) our age love is conveniently heedless. We do not yet know what is permitted, and we believe that everything is permitted and we follow the example of the great gods. No harsh father, or regard for reputation, or fear hinders us: even if there is a cause for fear we can hide our sweet thefts under the name of bother and sister: I have the freedom to speak with you in private, and we can embrace and kiss openly in front of our father. How important is what is (still) lacking? Pity (the one) who confesses her love, and would not confess (it), if extreme desire were not forcing (her), and may you not deserve (to be) the reason for the inscription on my tomb!"
The full tablet left her hand as it was writing such fruitless (words), and the last line was written in the margin. Immediately, she seals her shameless (letter), and stamped (it) with her signet ring, and she dampened it with her tears - (for) moisture had failed her tongue - , and, with a look of embarrassment, she called one of her servants, and said to the frightened (man) in a coaxing voice, "(O you,) my most trusted (servant), take these (tablets) to my," and, after a long pause, she added "brother." When she was giving (them to him), the tablets slipped and fell from her hands. She was disturbed by the (unlucky) omen: yet she (still) sent (the letter). Finding a suitable moment, the messenger went and delivered the secret words. Stunned by a sudden rage, the grandson of Maeander (i.e. Caunus) hurls away the tablets (he had) accepted and (which) he had partly read, and, scarcely keeping his hands from the face of the trembling messenger, he cries, "Run, while you (still) can, O (you) rascally agent of forbidden lust! (you) who would pay me the punishment of death, if your fate would not drag down our sense of honour with it." He flees in panic and reports Caunus' fierce words to his mistress. You grow pale, Byblis, on hearing that (you have been) repulsed, and your body shakes, gripped by an icy chill. But when her (strength of) mind returned, her passions returned at the same time, and her tongue gives out these words, while scarcely disturbing the air: "And no wonder! For why did I (so) rashly give an indication of this wound (of mine)? Why did I so hastily commit those words which should have been secret to those hurriedly (written) tablets? The judgment of his mind should have been tested in advance by me (well) beforehand by ambiguous words. I should have observed by any direction of sail what kind of wind it was, and (I should have) crossed the sea in safety, (but) I now have filled these sails with uncertain gusts of wind. So, I am being carried on to the rocks, and, having been overturned, I am overwhelmed and my sails have no (means of) retreat.
Ll. 595-665. The transformation of Byblis.
"Why (was it) that I was prevented by sure predictions from giving way to my passion, at the (very) moment when the tablet fell (from my hands), just as I was giving (my servant) orders to take (it to him), and (thus) made my hopes fall away? Shouldn't the day, or my whole intention, but especially the day, have been altered? The god, himself, was warning (me), and giving (me) sure signs, had I not been so crazed (with love). And yet, I should have spoken (to him) myself, and not have committed myself in writing, and (I should have) revealed my passion in person. (For then) he would have seen my tears and the face of a lover; I could have said more than any tablets could have contained. I could have encircled my arms around his unwilling neck, and, had I been rejected, I could have seemed on the verge of death, and (I could have) embraced his feet, and, as I lay prostrate, (I could have) begged for my life. I should have done all those (things), which, if (done) singly, could not have persuaded his stubborn mind, (but if done) altogether, could have (done so). And, perhaps, there may be some fault with the messenger (who was) sent: he did not, I believe, approach (him) properly, or choose a suitable moment, or seek a time when his mind (was) unoccupied.
(All) these things have harmed me. For he (i.e. Caunus) is not born of a tigress, nor does he carry hard flint, or solid iron or steel in his heart, nor does he drink the milk of a lioness. He will be won over! He will be approached anew, nor shall I suffer any weariness in my attempts, while this breath (of mine) remains. For in the first place, if it were possible for me to undo my actions, it would be (best) not to have begun: the next best (thing) is to complete successfully what I have begun. For in fact, although I might now abandon my longings, still he could not always fail to remember (what) I have dared (to do), and, because I have desisted, I will be seen to have desired (it but) slightly, or even to have tempted (him) and set snares (for him); or I shall assuredly be thought not (to have been) conquered by that god who violently impels and inflames our hearts (i.e. Cupid), but by lust. In short, I cannot now have done anything (which is) not impious. I have both written (to him) and wooed (him): my wishes have been defiled. Although I may add nothing (more to these charges), I cannot be said (to be) innocent. There is much that is left to long for, (but) little to be accused of."
(So) she spoke, and - so great is the conflict in her mind - while she regrets the attempt, she delights in making an attempt: and she exceeds (all) moderation, and in her misfortune she incurs a constant rejection. At last, when there is no end in sight, he flees from his native-land and this wickedness, and founds a new city in a foreign land (i.e. Caunus in Caria).
Then, indeed, they say that the sorrowful daughter of Miletus (i.e. Byblis) lost her mind entirely; then, indeed, she tore the clothes from her breast and beat her arms in a frenzy. And now she is openly mad, and confesses her hope of a forbidden love by deserting her native-land and her hateful home, and she follows (in) the footsteps of her fugitive brother. And, as the bacchantes of Ismarus (i.e. a mountain in Thrace), aroused by your wand, (O) son of Semele (i.e. Bacchus), celebrate anew your triennial (festival), so the women of Bubassus (i.e. a city in Caria) saw Byblis howling in the open fields. Leaving (them) behind, she wandered through Caria, and the armed Leleges (i.e. a people of Pelasgic descent who inhabited various parts of Asia Minor) and Lycia. She had already left behind the Cragus (i.e. a mountain range in Lycia), Limyra (i.e. a town in Lycia), and the waters of the Xanthus (i.e. a river in Lycia), and the ridge where the Chimaera (wielded) fire from the midst of his sides, (and) possessed the chest and face of a lion (and) the tail of a serpent. The woods have come to an end, when, exhausted by your pursuit, you fall, Byblis, and you lie prostrate, with your hair spread over the hard ground, and you press the fallen leaves with your face. The Lelegeian nymphs try frequently to lift (her) in their tender arms, and they also frequently advise (her) to cure her love, and they offer comfort to her heedless heart: (but) Byblis lies (there) speechless, and clutches the green blades with her fingers, and a stream of her tears waters the grass. From them, they say that the Naiads (i.e. the Water Nymphs) created a water-course beneath (her), which could never run dry: for what more could they possibly offer (her).
Straightway, just as drops (of pitch) (flow) from cut pine bark, or as sticky bitumen oozes from heavy soil, or as water, which has frozen in the winter, melts in the sun, at the arrival of the West Wind's gentle breath, so Phoebus' granddaughter Byblis, consumed by her own tears, is changed into a fountain, which even now in those valleys keeps its mistress's name, and flows from beneath a dark holm-oak.
F. IPHIS AND IANTHE
Ll. 666-713. The birth of Iphis.
Perhaps the tale of this fresh marvel would have filled a hundred Cretan cities, if Crete had not recently experienced, in the transformation of Iphis, a miracle nearer (to home). For the land of Phaistos, near to royal Cnossos, once produced from its native people an undistinguished man called Ligdus. His wealth was no greater than his birth, but his life and conduct were blameless. He spoke these words of warning in the ears of his pregnant wife, when she was already near to giving birth: "There are two (things) that I wish for: that you may be delivered with the least pain, and that you produce a male child; (for) the other (outcome) is more burdensome. So, if, (an idea) which I dread, a female (child) should be brought forth from your delivery, I reluctantly order - forgive the impiety! - that it be put to death."
He finished speaking, and they flooded their faces with copious tears, (he) who gave the commands, as much as (she) to whom the commands were given. But, nevertheless, Telethusa continuously urges her husband not to confine his expectations within a narrow (compass). (But,) in Ligdus' (case), his decision is fixed. And now she was scarcely (able to convey) her heavy belly with its mature burden which needed to be borne, when in the middle period of the night, in sleep's imagining, the daughter of Inachus (i.e. Io, or Isis in Egypt) either stood or seemed (to stand) before her bed, accompanied by her procession of sacred (companions). The Moon's (crescent) horns were on her forehead together with the shining gold of yellow ears of corn, and the royal splendour (was hers). With her (were) the barking Anubis (i.e. the jackal-headed Egyptian god identified with Mercury), and the holy Bubastis (i.e. the cat-headed Egyptian goddess identified with Diana), and the dapple-coloured Apis (i.e. the Egyptian bull god worshipped in Memphis), and (the god) who suppresses his voice and urges silence with his finger (i.e. Harpocrates or Horus) (i.e. the Egyptian god of silence, represented with his finger or thumb in his mouth), and there were sacred rattles, and Osiris (i.e. the consort of Isis, equated with Serapis worshipped in Alexandria) (was there), who could never be sought for enough, and the strange serpent, full of soporific venom. Then, as if she (had been) shaken from her sleep, and (were) seeing clearly, the goddess addressed (her) thus: "O Telethusa, (you) member of my (group of worshippers), set aside your deep anxieties and disobey your husband's instructions. When Lucina (i.e. the Roman goddess of childbirth, identified with Juno) has eased your delivery, do not hesitate to bring up (your child), whatever (gender) it shall be. I am the goddess who assists (women in travail), and, (when) prevailed upon, I bring help; nor will you have cause to complain that you have worshipped an ungrateful divinity." She gave this advice, and then left the bed-chamber.
Joyfully, the Cretan (woman) (i.e. Telethusa) rises from her bed, and, raising her innocent hands to the stars, she humbly prays that her dreams may prove (to be) true. When her (labour) pains grew and her burden pushed itself out into the world, and, unbeknown to the father, a girl is born, the mother deceitfully ordered (her) to be reared (as) a boy: and it was thought (to be) true, nor was anyone aware of the falsehood, except the nurse. The father (i.e. Ligdus) paid his vows and gave (it) its grandfather's name: its grandfather had been (called) Iphis. The mother was delighted with the name, as it was common (to either gender), and (so) she was not deceiving anyone by it. From there, the falsehood, begun with a sacred lie, went undetected: its clothing was (that) of a boy, its appearance, which you might give either to a girl or to a boy, would have been beautiful in either case.
Ll. 714-763. Iphis and Ianthe.
Meanwhile, thirteen years had passed, when your father, Iphis, betrothed you to the golden-haired Ianthe, the daughter of Telestes of (Mount) Dicte, who was the most praised maiden among the women of Phaistos, (and whose) beauty was her dowry. They were equal in age and beauty, and they had received their first instructions, (that is), the rudiments of life, from the same teachers.
Hence, love had touched the raw hearts of (them) both, and had given an equal wound to each one. But there was a difference in their (degree of) self-assurance: Ianthe awaits the agreed marriage and the day of her wedding, and she believes that (the person) whom she thinks is a man will be her husband; Iphis loves (someone) whom she has no hope of being able to enjoy, and this very (thing) increases her passion, and (so) a maiden burns (with love) for a maiden; scarcely holding back her tears, she says, "What way out is left for me, who is possessed by the prodigious pain of a strange love, which is known to no one (else)? If the gods wished to spare me, they should have spared (me); (but) if not, and they wished to destroy (me), they might, at least, have given me a natural and a normal misfortune. Love for a cow does not inflame a cow, nor (love) for mares (other) mares: the ram inflames the ewes, its hind follows the stag. So also birds mate, and among all animals no female is seized with desire for a female. How I wish I were not one! Yet, so that Crete might not fail to bear every monstrosity, the Sun's daughter (i.e. Pasiphaë) loved a bull, (though) assuredly a female (loved) a male: my love, if I openly profess the truth, is (even) madder than that! Yet, she pursued the hope of love, and by artifice, and in the likeness of a cow, she enjoyed the bull, and (the one) who was deceived was the (male) adulterer! Though all the world's ingenuity should be concentrated here, and Daedalus should fly back on his waxen wings, what good would it do? (Even) with his skilful arts, he couldn't make me a boy from a girl, (could he)? Surely he couldn't change you, Ianthe?
"Why don't you strengthen your mind, and pull yourself together, Iphis, and cast off your foolish passion, so useless in its purpose? Look at what you were (when you were) born, unless you (want to) deceive yourself as well, and seek what is right, and love as a woman should! It is hope that creates hope, it is hope that nourishes love: necessity takes this away from you. No guardian, nor the care of a wary husband, nor a father's severity keeps you from her dear embrace, and she does not deny herself your wooing: and yet she can never be available to you, nor can she be happy, though everything (else) may happen and both gods and men may toil (to grant your wishes). Even now, no part of my prayers is in vain, and the gods have granted me whatever they could, and what (I want), my father wants, and she (and) my future father-in-law wants. But Nature does not want (it), and she alone harms me. Behold, the longed for time is come, and the wedding torch is at hand, and now Ianthe will become mine - (but) she will not touch me: I will thirst in the midst of the waters. Why, Juno, escort of brides, and Hymen (i.e. the god of marriage), do you come to these sacred (nuptials,) where (he) who conducts (the bride) is absent (and) when both (of them) are veiled (as brides)?"
Ll. 764-797. Isis transforms Iphis into a boy.
After these (words), she stopped speaking. The other maiden is no less on fire, and prays that you should come quickly, Hymen. Telethusa, afraid that she seeks these (things), merely postpones the day, now lengthening the delay by a pretended illness, (and) frequently using omens and dreams as an excuse. But now every kind of pretence had been exhausted and the date for the delayed wedding ceremony had been set, and (only) one day remained. But she removes the (sacred) hair-band from her daughter's head, and from her own, and, clutching the altar with their hair streaming down, she cries, " (O) Isis, (you) who cares for Paraetonium (i.e. a sea-port on the coast of North Africa), and the Mareotic fields (i.e. fields near a lake in Lower Egypt), and Pharos (i.e. the light-house at Alexandria), and the Nile, divided into its seven channels, I beseech (you), bring help and relieve our fears! I once saw you, goddess, you and those symbols of yours, and I recognised (them) all, and the accompanying bronze (sounds) of your jingling rattles, and I embedded your commands in my mind's memory. See, it is by your purpose and your gift that she (i.e. Iphis) sees the light, (and) that I am not being punished. Have pity on the two (of us), and help (us) with your aid!" Tears followed her words.
The goddess seemed to move her altar - indeed it had moved - and the doors of the temple shook, and her horns shone, in imitation of the moon, and her rattle jingled loudly.
Not entirely reassured, yet gladdened by the auspicious omen, the mother (i.e. Telethusa) left the temple: her companion, Iphis, follows (her) as she goes with greater steps than she is accustomed to (take), nor does the whiteness in her face remain, and her strength increases, and her very features are sharper, and the length of her hair, (now) unadorned, is shorter, and she has more vigour than she had (as) a woman. For (you,) who lately were a girl, are (now) a boy. Take your gifts to the temple, and rejoice, not fearfully, (but) with confidence! Take your gifts to the temple, and add an inscription; the inscription had this brief verse: IPHIS MAKES AS A BOY THE OFFERINGS WHICH HE HAD PROMISED AS A GIRL.
The next (day's) sun had revealed the wide world by its rays, when Venus and Juno and Hymen come together to the conjugal sacrifices, and the boy Iphis takes possession of his Ianthe.
