Part 5

His vengeance, when Jove's son complete had seen, Due to her avarice, and her envious soul; He left Minerva's land, and up the sky On wafting pinions mounted. There his sire, Him from th' assembly drew; nor yet disclos'd, The object of his love:--"Son, quickly haste,-- "Thou faithful messenger of my commands, "Urge rapid thy descending flight, and seek "The realm whose northern bounds thy mother star "O'erlooks,--the land by natives Sidon call'd. "There wilt thou pasturing find the royal herd, "'Neath hills not distant from the sea: turn down "This herd to meadows bordering on the beach." He said;--the cattle tow'rd the sea shore move, Where sported with her Tyrian maids as wont, The monarch's daughter. Ill majestic state And love agree; nor long combin'd remain. The sire and ruler of the gods resigns His weighty sceptre: he whose right hand bears The three-fork'd fires; whose nod creation shakes, Assumes a bull's appearance:--with the herd Mingles; and strolling lets the tender shrubs Brush his fair sides. Of snowy white his skin; Such snow as rugged feet has never soil'd, Nor southern showers dissolv'd: his brawny neck, Strong from his shoulders stands: beneath extends The dewlap pendulous: small are his horns; But smooth as polish'd by the workman's hand;-- Pellucid as the brightest gems they shine: No threatenings wear his brow; no fire his eyes Flame fierce; but all his countenance peace proclaims. Him much Agenor's royal maid admir'd;-- His form so beauteous, and his look so mild. Yet peaceful as he seem'd, she fear'd at first A close approach;--but nearer soon she drew, And to his shining mouth the flowery food Presented. Joy'd th' impatient lover stands, Her fingers kissing; and with sore restraint Defers his look'd for pleasures. Sportive now He wantons, frisking in the grass; now rolls His snowy sides upon the yellow sand. Her apprehensions chas'd, by slow degrees, The virgin's fingers playful stroke his breast; Then bind with wreaths his horns: more daring now Upon his back the royal maid ascends;-- Witless a god she presses. From the fields, His steps deceitful gradual turn'd, he bends, And seeks the shore; then playful in the waves Just dips his feet;--thence plunging deep, he swims Through midmost ocean with his ravish'd prize. Trembling the nymph beholds the lessening shore;---- Firm grasps one hand his horn; upon his back, Secure the other resting: to the wind, Her fluttering garments floating as she sails.

*The Third Book.*

Unsuccessful search of Cadmus for his sister. Death of his companions by the dragon. Overthrow of the dragon, and production of armed men from his teeth. Thebes. Actæon devoured by his hounds. Semelé destroyed by lightening, and the birth of Bacchus. The prophet Tiresias. Echo: and the transformation of Narcissus. Impiety of Pentheus. Change of the Tyrrhenian sailors to dolphins. Massacre of Pentheus.

THE *Third Book* OF THE METAMORPHOSES OF OVID.

And now the god, his bestial form resign'd, Shone in his form celestial as he gain'd The Cretan shore. Meantime, the theft unknown, Mourn'd her sad sire, and Cadmus sent to seek The ravish'd maid; stern threatening as he went, Perpetual exile if his searching fail'd:-- Parental love and cruelty combin'd! All earth explor'd in vain, (for who shall find The amorous thefts of Jove?) the exile shuns His father's anger, and paternal soil. A suppliant bends before Apollo's shrine, To ask his aid;--what region he should chuse To fix his habitation. Phoebus thus;-- "A cow, whose neck the yoke has never prest, "Strange to the crooked plough, shall meet thy steps, "Lone in the desert fields: the way she leads "Chuse thou,--rand where upon the grass she rests, "Erect thy walls;--Boeotia call the place." Scarce had the cave Castalian Cadmus left, When he an heifer, gently pacing, spy'd Untended; one whose neck no mark betray'd Of galling service. Closely treads the youth, Slow moving in her footsteps, and adores In silence Phoebus, leader of his way. Now had he pass'd the Cephisidian stream, And meads of Panopé, when stay'd the beast; Her broad front lifted to the sky; reverse Her lofty horns reclining, shook the air With lowings loud; back then her face she bent, And saw the comrades following close behind: Down low she couch'd, and press'd the yielding grass, Glad thanks to Phoebus, Cadmus gave, and kiss'd The foreign soil;--the unknown hills, and land Saluted. Then a sacrifice to Jove Preparing, sent his followers to explore Streams flowing from the living fountain clear.

An ancient forest hallow'd from the axe, Not far there stood; in whose dark bosom gloom'd A cavern:--twigs and branches thick inwove With rocky crags, a low arch'd entrance form'd; Where pure and copious, gush'd transparent waves. Deep hid within a monstrous serpent lay, Sacred to Mars. Bright shone his crested head; His eyeballs glow'd with fire; his body swell'd Bloated with poison; o'er a threefold row Of murderous teeth, three quivering tongues he shook. This grove the Tyrians with ill-fated feet Now enter'd; and now in the waters threw, With noisy dash, their urns. Uprears his head, The azure serpent from the cavern deep; And breathes forth hisses dire: their urns they drop; The blood forsakes their bodies; sudden fear Chills their astonish'd limbs. He writhing quick, Forms scaly circles; spiral twisting round, Bends in an arch immense to leap, and rears In the thin air erect, 'bove half his height; All the wide grove o'erlooking. Such his size, Could all be seen, than that vast snake no less, Whose huge bulk lies the Arctic bears between. The Tyrians quick he seizes; some their arms Vain grasping,--flying some,--and some through fear To fight or fly unable:--these his jaws Crash murderous; those his writhing tail surrounds; Others his breath, with poison loaded, kills.

Now loftiest Phoebus shorten'd shadows gave, When Cadmus, wondering much why still his friends Tarried so long, their parting footsteps trac'd. His robe an hide torn from a lion's back; A dart and spear of shining steel his arms; With courage, arms surpassing. Now the grove He enters, and their breathless limbs beholds;-- Their victor foe's huge bulk upon them stretch'd; Licking with gory tongue their mournful wounds. "My faithful friends," he cry'd, "I will avenge "Your fate,--or perish with you." Straight a rock His right hand rais'd, and with impetuous force, Hurl'd it right on. A city's lofty walls With all its towers, to feel the blow had shook! Yet lay the beast unwounded; safely sheath'd With scaly armour, and his harden'd hide:-- His skin alone the furious blow repell'd. Not so that hardness mocks the javelin,--fixt Firm in the bending of the pliant spine His weapon stood,--and all the iron head Deep in his entrails sunk. Mad with the pain, Reverse he writhes his head;--beholds the wound; Champs the fixt dart;--by many forceful tugs Loosen'd at length, he tears the shaft away; But deep the steel within his bones remains. Now to his wonted fury fiercer flames This torture adding, big with poison swells His throat; and flowing, round his venom'd jaws, White foam appears; deep harrow'd with his scales Loud sounds the earth; and vapours black, breath'd out His mouth infernal, taint with death the air. Now roll'd in spires, he forms an orb immense: Now stretch'd at length he seems a monstrous beam: Now rushing forward with impetuous force, As sweeps a torrent swell'd by rain, his breast Bears down th' opposing forest. Cadmus back A step recedes, and on his lion's hide The shock sustains;--then with protended spear Checks his approaching jaws. Furious he strives To wound the harden'd steel;--on the sharp point He grinds his teeth: now from his poisonous mouth, Began the blood to flow, and sprinkling ting'd The virid grass; but trivial still the hurt; For shrinking from the blow, and twisting back His wounded neck, the stroke he still prevents Deeper to pierce, by yielding to its force. But pushing arduous on, Agenor's son, Fix'd in his throat the steel;--and the sharp point Forc'd through his neck: an oak oppos'd behind;-- The tree and neck the spear at once transfix'd. Dragg'd by the monster's weight low bends the tree, And groans and cracks, as lashing blows, his tail Immense, deals round. Now whilst the victor stands And wondering views the conquer'd serpent's size, Sudden a voice is heard, (from whence unknown,-- But plain the words he hears) "Why view'st thou thus, "Agenor's son, the foe by thee destroy'd? "Thou one day like this serpent shalt be seen." Aghast he stood,--the warm blood fled his cheeks; His courage chang'd to terror; freezing fear Rais'd his stiff locks erect. Lo! Pallas comes, Pallas, the known protectress of the brave. Smooth sliding from the higher clouds she comes; Bids him remove the soil, and place beneath, The serpent's fangs, a future offspring's pledge. The prince obeys; and as with crooked share, The ground he opens, in the furrows throws The teeth directed. Thence, (beyond belief!) The clods of earth at once began to move; Then in the furrows glitter'd, first, the points Of spears: anon fair painted crests arose, Above bright helmets nodding: shoulders next; And breasts; and arms, with javelins loaded came: Thickening the harvest grew of shielded men. Thus shews the glad theatric curtain; rais'd The painted figures' faces first appear, Gradual display'd; and more by slow degrees; At length the whole stand forth, their feet all fix'd Firm on the lower margin. Wondering, he His new-made foe beheld; and grasp'd his arms. But one whom earth had just produc'd, exclaim'd;-- "Arm not, nor meddle in our civil broils." He said,--an earth-born brother, hand to hand With sword keen-edg'd attacking; but from far, A javelin hurl'd, dispatch'd him. Short the boast Of him who sent it;--his death wound infix'd,-- He breathes the air out he so late receiv'd. So rage the rest, and in the furious war The new-made brethren fall by mutual wounds: And on their blood-stain'd mother, dash, the youths To short existence born, their damp cold breasts. Five only stand unhurt,--Echion one,-- Who threw, by Pallas prompted, down his arms And peace propos'd: his brethren took his pledge. These join the Tyrian prince, and social aid His efforts, when th' appointed walls he builds; Obedient to the Delphic god's commands.

The Theban walls now rais'd, thou, Cadmus seem'd Blest in thy exile. Mars and Venus gave Their daughter to thy wife. This spouse so fam'd, Thee daughters brought, and sons,--a numerous tribe; And grandsons, pledges dear of nuptial joys, Already risen to manhood. But too true That man should still his final day expect; Nor blest be deem'd till flames his funeral pyre. Thy grandson's fate, O, Cadmus! first with grief Thy bosom wrung, amid thy prosperous state: The alien horns which nodded o'er his brow; And ye, voracious hounds, with blood full-gorg'd, Your master's life-stream. Yet by close research, We find unlucky chance, not vice, his crime. What sin in error lies?

The hills were drench'd With blood of numerous slaughter'd savage beasts; And objects shorten'd shadows gave: the sun Exalted view'd each equi-distant goal; When the young Theban hunter thus address'd, His fellow sportsmen with a friendly call; As wide they rov'd the savage lairs among. "Our weapons, comrades, and our nets are moist "With blood of spoil; sufficient sport this day "Has given. But when Aurora next appears, "High on her saffron car, and light restores, "Then be our pleasing exercise resum'd. "Now Phoebus, distant far from west and east, "Cracks the parch'd ground with heat;--desist from toil, "And fold your knotted snares." His words obey, His men, and from their sportive labor cease.

Near stood a vale, where pointed cypress form'd With gloomy pines a grateful shade, and nam'd Gargaphié;--sacred to the girded maid: Its deep recess a shrubby cavern held, By nature modell'd,--but by nature, art Seem'd equall'd, or excell'd. A native arch Of pumice light, and tophus dry, was form'd; And from the right a stream transparent flow'd, Of trivial size, which spread a pool below; With grassy margin circled. Dian' here, The woodland goddess, weary'd with the chace, Had oft rejoic'd to bathe her virgin limbs. As wont she comes;--her quiver, and her dart, And unstrung bow, her armour-bearing nymph In charge receives. Disrob'd, another's arms Sustain her vest. Two from her feet unloose Her sandals. Crocalé, Ismenian nymph, Than others more expert, her tresses binds, Loose o'er her shoulders floating, in a knot; Her own wild flowing still. Five more the streams In huge urns lifting; Hyalé, and Niphé, Phialé, Rhanis, Psecas, lave her limbs. Here while the goddess in the limpid wave Washes as 'custom'd,--lo! Actæon comes;-- His sportive toil till morning dawn deferr'd: And roving through the vale with random steps, By hapless fate conducted, he arrives Close to the sacred grove. Within the grot Stream-pouring, when he stept, the naked nymphs,-- Then first by man beheld,--their bosoms beat; Fill'd the deep grove with outcries loud; and round Diana crowded, screening as they could Her limbs with theirs. Yet high above them tower'd The goddess, and her neck their heads o'erlook'd. As blush the clouds by Phoebus' adverse rays Deep ting'd;--or as Aurora in the morn; So blush'd the virgin-goddess, seen unrob'd. Sideway she stood, though closely hemm'd around By clustering nymphs, and backward bent her face: Then anxious praying she could reach her darts, In vain,--she seiz'd the waters which she could, And dash'd them o'er his features:--as his locks, The vengeful drops besprinkled, thus in rage, She cry'd,--"Now tell thou hast Diana seen "Disrob'd;--go tell it, if thou canst,"--no more, With threatenings storm'd, but on his sprinkled head, The antlers of the long-liv'd stag are plac'd. His neck is lengthen'd; with a sharpen'd point, His upright ears are form'd; to feet his hands,-- To long and slender legs his arms are chang'd; And round his body clings a dappled coat. Fear in his bosom she instils: the youth, The bold Actæon flies, and wondering feels His bounding feet so rapid in the race. But soon the waters shew'd his branching horns; And,--"ah unhappy me!" he strove to cry: His voice he found not; sighs and sobs were all; And tears fast streaming down his alter'd face. Still human sense remains. Where shall he turn? His royal palace seek,--or in the woods Secluded hide?--To tarry fear forbids, And shame prevents returning. While he doubts His hounds espy him. Quick-nos'd Tracer first, And Blackfoot give the signal by their yell: Tracer of Crete, and Blackfoot Spartan bred. Swifter than air the noisy pack rush on; Arcadian Quicksight; Glutton; Ranger, stout; Strong Killbuck; Whirlwind, furious; Hunter, fierce; Flyer, swift-footed; and quick-scented Snap: Ringwood, late wounded by a furious bear; And Forester, by savage wolf begot: Flock-tending Shepherdess; with Ravener fierce, And her two whelps; and Sicyonian Catch: The thin flank'd greyhound, Racer; Yelper; Patch; Tiger; Robust; Milkwhite, with snowy coat; And coalblack Soot. First in the race, fleet Storm; Courageous Spartan Swift; and rapid Wolf; Join'd with his Cyprian brother, Snatch, well mark'd With sable forehead on a coat of white: Blackcoat: and thickhair'd Shag: Worrier; and Wild,-- Twins from a dam Laconian sprung, their sire Dictæan: Babbler with his noisy throat:-- But all to name were endless. Urg'd by hope Of prey they crowd; down precipices rush; O'er rocks, and crags; through rugged paths, and ways Unpass'd before. His hounds he flies, where oft His hounds he had pursu'd. Poor wretch! he flies His own domestics, striving hard to call, "Actæon am I!--villains, know your lord." Words aid him not: loud rings the air with yells, Howlings, and barkings:--Blackhair first, his teeth Fix'd in his back; staunch Tamer fasten'd next; And Rover seiz'd his shoulder: tardy these, The rest far left behind, but o'er the hills Athwart, the chase they shorten'd. Now the pack, Join'd them their lord retaining; join'd their teeth Their victim seizing:--now his body bleeds, A wound continuous: deep he utters groans, Not human, yet unlike a dying deer; And fills the well-known mountains with his plaint. Prone on his knees in suppliant form he bends; And low beseeching waves his silent head, As he would wave his hands. His witless friends, The savage pack with joyous outcries urge; Actæon anxious seeking: echoing loud Eager his name as absent. At the name, His head he turns. His absence irks them sore, As lazy loitering, not the noble prey Obtain'd, beholding. Joyful could he be, At distance now,--but hapless is too near: Glad would he see the furious dogs their fangs, On other prey than his torn limbs infix. On every side they crowd; their dying lord, A well-seem'd deer, they rend; their ravenous teeth Deep tear his members. With a thousand wounds, (Dian's insatiate anger less despis'd) The hapless hunter yielded forth his breath.

Report flies dubious; some the goddess blame For disproportion'd vengeance; others warm Applaud the deed as worthy one so pure; And reasons weighty either party urge: Jove's consort only silent: she nor blames The action, nor approves; but inward joys, Agenor's house should such misfortune feel. The hatred nourish'd for the Tyrian maid, Her brother's offspring visits. Now fresh cause Of wrath succeeds; enrag'd the goddess learns That Semelé, embrac'd by mighty Jove, Is pregnant. Straight broke loose her angry tongue, And loud she storm'd:--"Advantage much I gain "By endless railing at unfaithful Jove! "This harlot will I find,--and, if with truth "They potent Juno stile me, she shall die. "Destruction shall o'erwhelm her, if beseems "My hand the sparkling sceptre of the sky: "If queen I am to Jove;--if sister;--wife:-- "His sister doubtless am I, if no more. "Content perchance is Semelé to joy "In pleasures briefly tasted; and my wrongs "Though deep, not lasting. No!--she must conceive "Foul aggravation of her shameless deed! "Her swelling womb unblushing proves her crime: "By Jove she longs to be a mother hail'd; "Which scarcely I can boast. Such faith her pride, "In conscious beauty places. Trust me not, "Or she mistaken proves. As I am child "Of hoary Saturn, she shall sink o'erwhelm'd "By her own Jove; and dip in Stygian waves."

She said, and starting from her regal throne, Wrapt in a dusky cloud descended; o'er The threshold stepp'd of Semelé, nor chas'd Her darkening veil, till like an ancient dame She stood display'd. White hairs her temples strew'd; Deep furrows plough'd her skin; her bending limbs Quiver'd beneath her weight; her tremulous voice Exhausted age betray'd: she stood to view Old Beroë, from Epidaurus come, The nurse of Semelé. With tedious tales She garrulous amus'd:--when in her turn Listening, the name of Jupiter she heard She sigh'd, and said,--"May he be truly Jove! "But age is still suspicious. Chastest beds "Have been by these pretended gods defil'd: "For if the deity supreme he be, "Why comes he thus disguis'd? If true his love, "Why prove it not? Urge thou an anxious wish "To clasp him in his might, in such a sort, "As lofty Juno he embraces;--round "Begirt with all the ensigns of his power." Thus Juno artful, Semelé's desires Apt moulded to her mind. From Jove she prays A nameless boon: the ready god consents;-- "Chuse what thou wilt, nor least denial dread: "To prove my faith, I call the Stygian streams "To witness, terror of the god of gods." Joy'd at her fatal prayer's too large success; And by her lover's prompt compliance, doom'd To sure destruction;--"This," said she, "I wish;-- "When with me next you love's delights enjoy, "Appear as when Saturnia fills your arms." Fain would the god have stopp'd her mouth:--too soon The hasty words found entrance to his ears. Deep mourn'd he. Equal now the fates forbid, The wish retracted, or the oath absolv'd. Sorrowing he seeks the lofty heaven: his nod Dark rolling clouds collects: here form black showers; And hurricanes; and flashing lightenings mixt; Thunders; and his inevitable bolt: Anxious he strives with all his power to damp, The fierceness of his flames: nor arm'd him now, With those dread fires that to the earth dash'd down The hundred-handed foe:--too powerful they. He chose a milder thunder;--less of rage, Of fire, and fury, had the Cyclops given The mass when forg'd; a second-rated bolt. Clad in mild glory thus, the dome he seeks Of Semelé;--her mortal frame too weak, To bear th' ethereal shock, fierce scorcht she sunk, Beneath the nuptial grant. Th' imperfect babe, Snatcht from his mother's smoking womb, was sew'd (If faith the tale deserves) within his thigh; There to complete the period of his growth. Ino, his aunt maternal, then receiv'd The boy; in private rear'd him, till the nymphs Of Nysa's mountains, in their secret caves Shelter'd, and fed with milk, th' entrusted charge.

While the rash promise caus'd on earth those deeds, And twice-born Bacchus' cradle safe was hid; 'Tis said that Jove with heavenly nectar flush'd, All serious cares dismiss'd. With sportive jests, At ease conversing, he and Juno sate: When he:--"The thrilling ecstasies of love, "Are surely strongest on the female side." She differs,--and the question both agree Tiresias, who each sex had prov'd, shall judge. Two mighty snakes he spy'd upon the grass, Twisted in Venus' wreaths; and with his staff Hard smote them;--instant alter'd was his sex. Wonderous! he woman of a man became, Seven winters so he liv'd:--the eight, again He spy'd the same; and cry'd,--"If such your power, "That whoso strikes you must their gender change, "Once more I'll try the spell." Straight as the blow The snakes receiv'd, his pristine form return'd: Hence was he chosen, in the strife jocose, As umpire; and the words of Jove confirm'd.

Much, say they, Juno rag'd; more than beseem'd The trivial cause, or sentence justly given; And veil'd the judge's eyes in endless night. But Jove omnipotent, him gave to know, (For fate forbids to cancel others' deeds) What future times conceal; a light divine; An honor'd gift to mitigate his pain.

Fam'd far and wide through all Boeotia's towns, Unerring answers still the prophet gave, To all who sought him. Blue Liriopé, First prov'd his faith, and ne'er-deceiving words. Her once Cephisus, in his winding stream Entwin'd, and forceful in his waves enjoy'd. The beauteous nymph's full womb, in time produc'd A babe, whose features ev'n from birth inspir'd Th' attendant nymphs with love; Narcissus nam'd. For him enquiring, whether doom'd to see, The peaceful period of maturest age, The fate-foretelling prophet thus reply'd:-- "Yes,--if himself he never knows." The words Were long absurd esteem'd: but well th' event Their justice prov'd; his strange unheard of death; And love of object never lov'd before.

Now sixteen summers had Narcissus seen, A boy in beauty, but in growth a man; And crowds of youths his friendship sought, and crowds Of damsels sought his love: but fiercely pride Swell'd in his snowy bosom; and he spurn'd His friends' advances, and the love-sick maids. A chattering nymph, resounding Echo, saw The youth, when in his toils the trembling deer He drove;--a nymph who ne'er her words retain'd, Nor dialogue commenc'd. But then she bore A body palpable; and not, as now, Merely a voice:--yet garrulous, she then That voice, nor other us'd; 'twas all she could, The closing words of speakers to repeat. Juno had this ordain'd: for oft the dame The frailer nymphs upon the hills had caught, In trespass with her Jove; but Echo sly With lengthen'd speech the goddess kept amus'd, Till all by flight were sav'd. Soon Juno saw The trick:--"The power of that delusive tongue,"-- She cry'd, "I'll lessen, and make brief thy words;" Nor stay'd, but straight her threaten'd vengeance took. Now she redoubles (all she can) the words Which end another's speech; reporting back, But only what she hears.