Book II

By towering columns bright with burnish'd gold,And fiery gems, which blaz'd their light around,Upborne, the palace stood. The lofty roofWith ivory smooth incas'd. The folding doors,Of silver shone, but much by sculpture grac'd,For Vulcan there with curious hand had carv'dThe ocean girding in the land; the land;And heaven o'ershadowing: here cerulean godsSport in the waves, grim Triton with his shell;Proteus shape-changing; and AEgeon huge,--His mighty arms upon the large broad backsOf whales hard pressing: Doris and her nymphs:Some sportive swimming; on a rocky seatSome their green tresses drying; others borneBy fish swift-gliding: nor the same all seem'd,Yet sister-like a close resembling lookEach face pervaded. Earth her natives bore,Mankind;--and woods, and cities, there were seen;Wild beasts, and streams, and nymphs, and rural gods.'Bove all the bright display of heaven was hung--Six signs celestial o'er each portal grav'd.

The daring youth, the steep ascent attain'd,O'erstepp'd the threshold of his dubious sire,And hasty rush'd to meet paternal eyes;But sudden stay'd: so fierce a blaze of lightNo nearer he sustain'd. In purple clad,The god a regal emerald throne upheld;Encircled round by hours which space the day;By days themselves; and ages, months, and years.Crown'd with a flowery garland Spring appear'd:Chaplets of grain the swarthy brows adorn'dOf naked Summer: smear'd with trodden grapesStood Autumn: icy Winter fill'd the groupe;--Snow-white his shaggy locks. Sol from the midstHis eyes all-seeing glanc'd upon the youth,Startled and trembling at the wonderous sight;And cried:--"What brings my Phaeton, my son,"Whose sire shall ne'er disclaim him? tell me now,"What here thou seekest?" Thus the youth replies:--"O father, Phoebus, universal light!"If justly, I thy honor'd name may use,"Nor proudly boasting Clymene conceals"A crime by falshood; grant paternal signs,"The world convincing that from thee I spring;"Reproachful doubts erasing from my mind."He said;--the sire the glittering rays removesThat blaz'd around his head,--invites him nigh,And thus embracing:--"Proud I own thee, son,"For all is true by Clymene disclos'd."If still thou doubtest, name the gift thou lik'st,--"That shalt thou have; for that will I bestow."Ye streams unseen, which hear celestial oaths"My vows attest!" But scarce had Phoebus spoke,When Phaeton, the fiery car demands,--Demands his sway the winged-footed steedsOne day should suffer. Soon the solemn oathPhoebus lamented: three times mournful shookHis glorious tresses and in sorrow cry'd--"Would I could yet deny thee!--O my son!"All else with gladness will I hear thee ask;--"List to persuasion,--perseverance sure"Will risk thy ruin. Phaeton, my child!"The task thou seek'st is arduous; far unfit"For those weak arms, and age so immature."Mortal,--thou would'st a seat immortal press."Ignorant of grasping more than all the gods"Attempt to manage. Every power we grant"Diverse excels; but I of all the gods,"Have force in that igniferous car to stand."Ev'n Jove, the ruler of Olympus vast,"Whose right hand terrible fierce lightenings hurls,"This chariot never rul'd: and who than Jove,"More mighty deem we? Steep the first ascent,"The fresh steeds clamber up the height with pain:"High in mid heaven arriv'd, to view beneath"Ocean and earth, oft strikes even me with fear,"And with dread palpitation shakes my breast."Prerupt the end, and asks a firm restraint;"Tethys herself who nightly me receives,"Beneath the waves, fears oft my headlong fall."Nor all;--the skies a constant whirling bears"In rapid motion, and the heavenly orbs"Sweep with them swift; I strive the adverse my;"Nor can th' impetuous force which whirls the rest"Bear with them me; I stem the rapid world"With force superior. Grant, the car I yield,--"Could'st thou the swift rotation of the poles"Stem nervous, nor be borne with them along?"Perchance imagination fills thy mind,"With groves, and dwellings of celestial gods,"And temples richly deck'd with offer'd gold,"Where thou shall pass. Far else;--thy journey lies,"Through ambushes, and savage monsters' forms."Ev'n shouldst thou lucky not erratic stray,"Yet must thou pass the Bull's opposing horns;"The bow Haemonian, by the Centaur bent;"The Lion's countenance grim; the Scorpion's claws"Bent cruel in a circuit large; the Crab"In lesser compass curving. Hard the task"To rule the steeds with those fierce fires inflam'd,"Within their breasts, which through their nostrils glow."Scarce bear they my control, when mad with heat"Their high necks spurn the rein. But, oh! my son,"Beware lest I a fatal gift bestow."Retract, while yet thou may'st, thy rash demand."Sure tokens thou requir'st to prove thee sprung"From me,--the genuine offspring of my blood:"My anxious trembling is a token true;"Paternal terrors plainly prove the sire."Lo! on my features fix thine eyes; as well,"I would thou could'st them place within my breast,"And view the anguish of a father's cares."Last throw thy looks around; the riches view,"Whatever earth contains, and some demand;"Some of so many and such mighty gifts:"In heaven, or earth, or sea, 'tis undeny'd."This only would I grant not, as its grant"Is punishment, not favor. Phaeton"Asks evil for a gift. Why, foolish boy,"Hang on my neck thus coaxing with thine arms?"Whate'er thou would'st, thou shalt. The Stygian streams"Have heard me swear. But make a wiser wish."His admonition ceas'd, but all adviceWas bootless: still his resolution holds;To guide the chariot still his bosom burns.The sire, his every effort vain, at lengthForth to the lofty car, Vulcanian gift,Brings the rash youth. Of gold the axle shone;The pole of gold; by gold the rolling wheelsWere circled; every spoke with silver bright;Upon the seat bright chrysolites display'd,With various jewels shed a dazzling light,From Sol reflected. All the high-soul'd youthAdmir'd, and while he curious view'd each part,Behold Aurora from the purple eastWide throws the ruddy portals, and displaysThe halls with roses strewn: the starry hostFly, driven by Lucifer,--himself the lastTo quit his heavenly station. Sol beheldThe earth and sky grow red, and Luna's hornsBlunt, and prepar'd to vanish. Straight he badeThe flying hours to yoke the steeds: his wordsThe nimble goddesses obey, and leadThe steeds fire-breathing from their lofty stalls,Ambrosia fed, and fix the sounding reins.Then with a sacred ointment Phoebus smear'dThe face of Phaeton,--unscorch'd to bearThe fervid blaze; and on his head a crownOf rays he fix'd. His smother'd sighs withinHis anxious breast, sad presages of woeSuppressing, thus he spoke:--"If now my words"Though late, thou heedest, spare, O boy! the lash,"But tightly grasp the reins: unbid they run,"They fly; to check their flight thy labor asks."Not through the five bright zones thy journey lies:"Obliquely winds the path, with spacious curve,"Three girdles only touching; leaving far"The pole Antarctic, and the northern Bear:"Be this thy track; there plain thou may'st discern"The marks my wheels have made. Since heaven and earth"An equal portion of my influence claim;"Press not the car too low, nor mount aloft"Near topmost heaven: there would'st thou fire the roof"Celestial;--here the earth thou would'st consume."For safety keep the midst. Let thy right wheel"Approach the tortuous Snake not: nor thy left"Press near the Altar:--hold the midmost course."Fortune the rest must rule; may she assist"Thy undertaking; for thy safety act"Better than thou. But more delay deny'd,"Lo! whilst I speak the dewy night has touch'd"The boundaries plac'd upon th' Hesperian shore."I'm call'd,--for, darkness fled, Aurora shines."Seize then, the reins, or if thy mind relents,"My counsel rather than my chariot take."Now whilst thou can'st; whilst on a solid base"Thou standest, ere thou yet unskilful mount'st"The chariot ev'lly wish'd: give me to dart"Those rays on earth which thou may'st safely view:"Agile the youth bounds from his sire, and standsProud in the chariot; joyously he holdsTh' entrusted reigns, and from the seat glad thanksTh' unwilling parent gives. Meantime neigh'd loudIn curling flames, the winged steeds of Sol,Pyroeis, AEthon, Phlegon, Eous swift;And with impatient hoofs the barrier beat;Which Tethys, ignorant of her grandson's fate,Drove back, and open laid the range of heaven.Swiftly they hasten,--swiftly fly their heels,Through the thin air, and through opposing clouds.Pois'd by their wings the eastern gales they pass,Which started with them: but their burthen light,Small felt the pressure on the chariot seat:Not what the steeds of Sol had felt before.As ships unpois'd reel tottering through the waves,Light and unsteady, rambling o'er the main;So bounds the car, void of its 'custom'd weight,High-toss'd as though unfill'd. This quick perceiv'd,Fierce rush the four-yok'd steeds, and quit the pathBeaten before, and tread a road unknown.Trembling the youth nor knows to pull the reinsWhich side, nor knowing would the steeds obey.Then first the frozen Trioenes from SolFelt warm, and try'd, but try'd in vain, to dipBeneath the sea. The frozen polar snake,Sluggish with cold, and indolently mild,Warm'd, and dire fierceness gather'd from the flames.Thou too, Booetes, fled'st away disturb'd,Though slow thy flight, retarded by thy teams.And now the luckless Phaeton his eyesCast on the earth remote,--far distant spreadBeneath the lofty sky; pale grew his faceWith sudden terror; trembled his weak knees;O'ercome with light his eyes in darkness sunk:Glad were he now, his father's steeds untouch'd:Griev'd that his race he knows; griev'd his requestWas undeny'd: glad were he now if call'dThe son of Merops. Ev'n as Boreas sweepsFurious the vessel, when the pilot leavesThe helm to heaven, and puts his trust in prayersSo was he hurry'd. What remains to do?Vast space of heaven behind him lies;--much moreHe forward views. Each distance in his mindCompar'd he measures. Now he forward bendsTo view the west, forbidden him to reach;Now to the east he backward turns his eyes.With terror stunn'd his trembling hands refuseTo hold the reins with vigor; yet he holds.The coursers' names, affrighted he forgets:Trembling he views the various monsters spreadThrough every part above; and figures hugeOf beasts ferocious. Heaven a spot contains,Where Scorpio bends in two wide bows his arms,His tail, and doubly-stretching claws;--the spaceEncompassing of two celestial signs.Soon as the youth the monstrous beast beheld,Black poison sweating, and with crooked stingThreatening fierce wounds, he nerveless dropp'd the reins:Pale dread o'ercame him. Quick the steeds perceiv'dThe loose thongs playing on their backs, and rush'dWide from the path, uncheck'd;--through regions strange,Now here, now there, impetuous;--unrestrain'd,Amidst the loftiest stars they dash, and dragThe car through pathless places: upward nowThey labor;--headlong now they down descend,Nearing the earth. With wonder Luna seesHer brother's coursers run beneath her own;And sees the burnt clouds smoking. Lofty pointsOf earth, feel first the flames, and fissures wide,Departing moisture prove. The forage green,Whitens; trees crackle with their burning leaves;And ripe corn adds its fuel to the blaze.Why mourn we trifles? Mighty cities fall;Their walls protect them not; their dwellers sinkTo ashes with them. Woods on mountains flame;--Athos, Cilician Taurus, Tmolus, burn;Oete, and Ide, her pleasant fountains dry;With virgin Helicon, and Haemus high,OEagrius since. Now with redoubled flamesFierce Etna blazes;--Eryx, Othrys too;Cynthus, and fam'd Parnassus' double top,And Rhodope, at length of snow depriv'd:Dindyma, Mimas, and the sacred hillCythaeron nam'd, and lofty Mycale:Nor aid their snows the Scythians: Ossa burns,Pindus, and Caucasus, and, loftier still,The huge Olympus; with the towering Alps;And cloud-capt Apennines. Now the youth,Beholds earth flaming fierce from every part;--The heat o'erpowers him; fiery air he breathesAs from a furnace; and the car he ridesGlows with the flame beneath him: sore annoy'dOn every side by cinders, and by smokeHot curling round him. Whither now he drives,Or where he is, he knows not; in a cloudOf pitchy night involv'd; swept as the steedsSwift-flying will. The AEthiopians then,'Tis said, their sable tincture first receiv'd;Their purple blood the glowing heat call'd forthTo tinge their skins. Then dry'd the scorching fireFrom arid Lybia all her fertile streams.Now with dishevell'd locks the nymphs bewail'dTheir fountains and their lakes. Boeotia mournsThe loss of Dirce: Argos Amymone:Corinth laments Pirene. Nor yet safeWere rivers bounded by far distant shores,Tanais' midmost waves fume to the sky;And ancient Peneus smokes: Ismenos swift;Caicus, Teuthrantean; and the floodOf Phocis, Erymanthus: Xanthus too,Doom'd to be fir'd again: Lycormas brown;Maeander's sportive oft recircling waves;Mygdonian Melas; and the Spartan flood,Eurotas; with Euphrates burn: and burn,Orontes; and the rapid Thermodoon;Ganges; and Phasis; and the Ister swift.Alpheus boils; the banks of Spercheus burn;And Tagus' golden sands the flames dissolve.Stream-loving swans, whose song melodious rungThroughout Maeonian regions, feel the heat,Caister's streams amid. In terror NileFled to the farthest earth, and sunk his head,Yet undiscover'd!--void the seven-fold stream,His mouth seven dry and dusty vales disclos'd.Now Hebrus dries, and Strymon, Thracian floods:And streams Hesperian, Rhine; and Rhone; and Po;And Tiber, destin'd all the world to rule.Asunder split the globe, and through the chinksDarted the light to hell: the novel blaze,Pluto and Proserpine with terror view'd.The ocean shrinks;--a dry and scorching plainWhere late was sea appears. Hills lift their headsLate by the deep waves hid, and countless seemThe scatter'd Cyclades. Deep crouch the fish;--The crooked dolphins dare not leap aloft,As, custom'd in the air; with breasts upturn'dThe gasping sea-calves float upon the waves:Nereus, with Doris and her daughter-nymphsDeep plung'd to seek their low, but tepid caves.Thrice Neptune ventur'd to upraise his armsGrim frowning,--thrice the flames too fierce he found,And shrunk beneath the waters. Earth at length,(By streams and founts encircled,--for her wombTrembling they sought for refuge) rais'd on highHer face omniferous, dry and parch'd with heat;Her burning forehead shaded with her hand;Shook all with tremor huge; then shrank for shadeBeneath, and gasping, thus to heaven she plain'd:

"Almighty lord! if such thy sovereign will,"And I deserve it, why thy lightenings hold"Thus idle? If by fire to perish doom'd,--"Be it by thine,--an honorable fate!"Scarce can my lips now utter forth my pains!--Volumes of smoke oppress'd her--"See, my hair"Sing'd with the flames! Behold my face,--my eyes,"Scorch'd with hot embers! Is no better boon"Due for the fruits I furnish? Such reward,"Suits it my fertile crops? or cruel wounds"Of harrow, rake, and plough, which through the year"Enforc'd I suffer? For the herds I bring"Green herbs and grass; bland aliments, ripe fruit"For man; and incense for ye mighty gods:"Faulty is this? But grant thy wrath deserv'd,"How do the waves, thy brother's realm offend?"Why does the main, to him by lot decreed,"Shrink and retreat from heaven? Thy brother's weal,"Say it concerns thee not, nor my distress;"Care for thy own paternal heaven may move."Thine eyes cast round,--black smoke from either pole"Mounts!--soon the greedy flames your halls will seize."Lo! Atlas labors;--scarcely he sustains"The burning load. If earth and ocean flame,"And heaven too perish, all to chaoes turn'd,"Confounded we shall sink. Snatch from the flames"What yet, if ought, remains, and nature save."No more could Earth, for now thick vapors rose,Her speech obstructing; down she shrunk her head,And shelter'd 'midst the cool Tartarian shades.

Now Jove, the gods, all witness to the factConven'd; ev'n Sol, the donor of the car,That but for him the world in ruins soonWould lie. The loftiest height of heaven he gains,Whence clouds he wont upon the wide-spread earthTo shower;--from whence his thunders loud he hurl'd;And quivering lightenings flung: but now nor clouds,Nor showers to rain on earth the sovereign had.He thunders;--from his right-ear pois'd, the boltHurls on the charioteer. Life, and the car,Phaeton quits at once;--his fatal fires,By fires more fierce extinguish'd. Startled pranceThe steeds confounded; free their fiery necksFrom the torn reins: here lie the traces broke;There the strong axle, sever'd from the seat;Spokes of the shatter'd wheels are here display'd;And scatter'd far and wide the car's remains.Hurl'd headlong falls the youth, his golden locks,Flame as he tumbles, swept through empty air,A lengthen'd track he forms: so seems a starIn night serene, but only seems, to shoot.Far from paternal home, the mighty PoReceiv'd his burning corps, and quench'd the flames.

Due rites the nymphs Hesperian gave the limbsFrom the fork'd lightening flaming. On his tombThis epitaph they grav'd: "Here Phaeton"Intombed rests; the charioteer so bold,"Of Phoebus' car, which though he fail'd to rule,"He perish'd greatly daring." Griev'd his sire,Veil'd his sad face; and, were tradition true,One day saw not the sun; the embers blaz'dSufficient light: thus may misfortune aid.

When Clymene with all that sorrow couldTo ease her woes give utterance, loud had wail'dIn wild lament; all spark of reason fled,Her bosom tearing, through the world she roam'd.And now his limbs inanimate she sought;Then for his whiten'd bones: his bones she found,On banks far distant from his home inhum'd.Prone on his tomb her form she flung, and pour'dHer tears in floods upon the graven lines:And with her bosom bar'd, the cold stone warm'd.His sisters' love their fruitless offerings bring,Their griefs and briny droppings; cruel tearTheir beauteous bosoms; while they loudly callPhaeton, deaf to all their mournful cries.Stretch'd on his tomb, by night, by day they call'd.Till Luna's circle four times fill'd was seen;Their blows still given as 'custom'd, (use had madeTheir forms of grief as nature). Sudden plain'dFair Phaethusa, eldest of the three,Of stiffen'd feet; as on the tomb she stroveTo cast her body prone. Lampetie bright,Rushing in hope to aid, a shooting rootAbruptly held. With lifted hands the thirdHer locks to tear attempted; but green leavesTore off instead. Now this laments her legs,Bound with thin bark; that mourns to see her armsShoot in long branches. While they wonder thus,Th' increasing bark their bodies upward veils,Their breasts, their arms, and hands, with gradual growth:Their mouths alone remain; which loudly callTheir mother. What a mother could, she did:What could she do? save, here and there to fly,Where blind affection dragg'd her; and while yet,'Twas given to join, join with them mouth to mouth.Nor this contents; she strives to tear the rind,Their limbs enwrapping; and the tender boughsPluck from their hands: but from the rended spotThe sanguine drops flow swift. Each suffering nymphCries,--"Spare me, mother!--spare your wounded child;"I suffer in the tree.--farewell!--farewell!"--For as they spoke the rind their mouths inclos'd.From these new branches tears were dropp'd, and shap'dBy solar heat, bright amber straight compos'd.Dropt in the lucid stream, the prize was borneTo Latium, and its gayest nymphs adorn'd.

This wonderous change Sthenelian Cycnus saw;To thee, O Phaeton, by kindred join'd,But by affection closer. He his realms,(For o'er Liguria's large and populous townsHe reign'd) had then relinquish'd. With his plaints,The Po's wide stream was fill'd; and fill'd the banksWith his lamentings; ev'n the woods, whose shadeThe sister poplars thicken'd. Soon he feelsHis utterance shrill and weak: his streaming locksSoft snowy plumes displace: high from his chest,His lengthen'd neck extends: a filmy webUnites his ruddy toes: his sides are cloth'dWith quills and feathers: where his mouth was seenExpanded, now a blunted beak obtains;And Cycnus stands a bird;--but bird unknownIn days of yore. Mistrustful still of Jove,His heaven he shuns; as mindful of the flamesFrom thence unjustly hurl'd. Wide lakes and pondsHe seeks to habit now;--indignant shunsWhat favors fire, and joys in purling streams.

Meantime was Phoebus dull, his blaze obscur'd,As when eclips'd his orb: his rays he hates;Himself; and even the day. To grief his soulHe gives, and anger to his grief he joins;Depriving earth of all its wonted light."Troubled my lot has been," he cry'd, "since first"Was publish'd my existence:--urg'd my toil"Endless,--still unremitted, still unprais'd."Now let who will my furious chariot drive"Flammiferous! If every god shall shrink"Inadequate,--let Jove the task attempt:"Then while my reins he tries, at least those flames,"Which cause parental grief must peaceful rest."Then when the fiery flaming coursers strain"His nervous arms, no more he'll judge the youth"Of death deserving, who could less control."Sol, grieving thus, the deities surround,And suppliant beg that earth may mourn no more,By darkness 'whelm'd. Ev'n Jove concession gave,--And why his fiery bolts were launch'd explain'd;But threats and prayers majestically mix'd.The steeds with terror trembling, Phoebus seiz'd,Wild from their late affright, and rein'd their jaws;Furious he wields his goad and lash, and fierceHe storms, and their impetuous fury blamesAt every blow, as murderers of his son.

High heaven's huge walls the mighty sire explores,With eye close searching, lest a weakening flaw,Might hurl some part to ruin. All he foundFirm in its pristine strength;--then glanc'd his eyeAround the earth, and toils of man below.'Bove all terrestrial lands, Arcadia felt--His own Arcadia--his preserving care.Her fountains he restores; her streams not yetTo murmur daring; to her fields he givesSeed-corn; and foliage to her spreading boughs;And her scorch'd forests bids again look green.Through here as oft he journey'd, and return'd,A virgin of Nonacrine he spy'd,And instant inward fire the god consum'd.No nymph was she whose skill the wool prepar'd;Nor comb'd with art her tresses seem'd; full plain,Her vest a button held; a fillet whiteCareless her hair confin'd. Now pois'd her handA javelin light, and now a bow she bore:In Dian's train she ran, nor nymph more dearTo her the mountain Maenalus e'er trode.But brief the reign of favor! Sol had nowBeyond mid-heaven attain'd; Calistho soughtA grove where felling axe had never rung:Here was her quiver from her shoulder thrown;Her slender bow unstrung; and on the groundWith soft grass clad she rested: 'neath her neckWas plac'd the painted quiver. Jove, the maidWeary'd beheld, and from her wonted troopFar distant. "Surely now, my wife," he cries,"This theft can ne'er discover. Should she know,"What is her rage with such a prize compar'd?"Then Dian's face and form the god conceal'd;Loud calling,--"Where, O virgin, hast thou stray'd?"What hills, my comrade, hast thou crost in chase?"Light springing from the turf, the nymph reply'd,--"Hail goddess, greater, if with me the palm,"Than Jove himself, though Jove himself should hear."The feign'd Diana smil'd, and joy'd to hearHim to himself preferr'd; then press'd her lipsWith kisses, such as virgins never giveTo virgins. Her, prepar'd to tell the woodsWhere late she hunted, with a warm embraceHe hinder'd; and his crime the god disclos'd.Hard strove the nymph,--and what could female more?(O Juno, hadst thou seen her, less thy ire!)Long she resists, but what can nymph attain,Or any mortal, when to Jove oppos'd?Victor the god ascends th' ethereal court.

The groves and forests, conscious of the deed,Calistho hates; so swift she flies the spot,Her quiver, and her darts, and slender bowSuspended on the tree, through eager hasteWere nigh forgotten. Lo! Diana comes,By clustering nymphs attended, o'er the hillsOf lofty Maenalus, from slaughter'd beasts,Proudly triumphant. She Calistho sees,And calls her;--as the goddess calls she flies,Fearing another Jove disguis'd to meet.But when th' attendant virgin-troop appear'd,Fraud she no more suspected, but the trainJoin'd fearless. Hard the countenance to form,And not betray a perpetrated crime!Scarce from the ground she dar'd her looks to raise;Nor with her wonted ardor press'd before,First of the throng, close to Diana's side.Silent she moves; her blushes prove a woundHer modesty had felt. E'en Dian' might,(But that a virgin,) all the truth have known.By numerous proofs and strong. Nay, fame reportsHer sister-nymphs had long her shame perceiv'd.Nine times had Luna now her orb renew'd,When Dian' from the chase retreating faintBy Phoebus' rays, had gain'd a forest cool,Where flow'd a limpid stream with murmuring noise,The shining sand upturning. Much the spotThe goddess tempted, and her feet she dipp'dLight in the waves, as to the nymphs she cry'd:--"Hence far each prying eye, we'll dare unrobe"And lave beneath the stream." Calistho blush'd;--Quick while the other nymphs their bodies bare,Protracting she undresses. From her limbs,Suspicious they the garments rend, and viewHer body naked, and her fault is plain.To her, confus'd, whose trembling hands essay'dHer shame to hide, Diana spoke;--"Hence fly,--"Far hence, nor more these sacred streams pollute."And drove her instant from her spotless train.

Long time the mighty thunderer's queen had knownCalistho's state; but curb'd her furious ireTill ripe occasion suited: longer nowDelay were needless; now the nymph produc'dArcas; whom Juno more enrag'd beheld.With savage mind, and furious look she ey'dThe boy, and spoke;--"Adulteress! this alone"Was wanting! fruitful, harlot, hast thou prov'd?"Must by this birth my wrongs in public glare?"And what dishonor I from Jove receive"Be palpable to sight. Expect not thou"Impunity to find. Thy form I'll change,--"To thee so pleasing, and so dear to Jove."She said; and on the flowing tresses seiz'dWhich o'er her forehead stream'd, and prostrate dragg'dThe nymph to earth. She rais'd her suppliant hands,--With black hairs cover'd, rough her arms appear'd;Bent were her hands, and, with her lengthen'd nailsTo claws transform'd, press'd on the ground as feet;Her mouth so beauteous, late of Jove admir'd,Yawn'd wide deformity;--and lest soft prayersAnd flowing words, might pity move, no powerTo speak she left. Now through her hoarse throat soundsAn angry threatening voice that fear instills;A bear becoming, though her sense the same:Her sufferings proving by her constant groans.Lifting to heaven such hands as lift she could,Jove she ungrateful found, but Jove to callUngrateful, strove in vain. Alas! how oftIn woods and solitudes, to sleep afraid,She roam'd around the house and fertile fieldsOf late her own!---Alas, how oft thence drivenBy yelping hounds o'er craggy steeps she fled!Thou dread'st the hunters though an huntress thou!Oft was her form forgotten, and in fearFrom beasts she crouch'd conceal'd: the shaggy bearShudder'd to see the bears upon the hills;And at the wolves she trembled, though with wolvesHer sire Lycaoen howl'd. Now Arcas comes;Arcas, her son, unconscious of his race.Near fifteen suns the youth had seen revolv'd;And while the game he chases, while he seeksThickets best suited for his sports, and roundThe Erymanthean woods his toils he sets,He meets his mother:--at his sight she stay'd,The well-known object viewing. Arcas fledTrembling, unconscious why those eyes were fix'dOn him immoveably. His spear, prepar'dTo pierce his mother's breast, as near she drawsThe youth protends. But Jove the deed prevents:Both bears away, and stays the matricide.Swept through the void of heaven by rapid whirlThey're borne, and neighbouring constellations made,Loud Juno rag'd, to see the harlot shine,Amid the stars; and 'neath the deep descends,To hoary Tethys, and her ancient spouse;Where reverence oft the host of heaven had shewn.And thus to them, who anxious seek the cause,Why there she journeys. "Wish ye then to know"Why I the queen of heaven, my regal seat"Now leave? Another fills my lofty throne!"Nor false I speak,--for when gray night shall spread"O'er all,--new constellations shall you see"Me irking,--on the utmost bounds of heaven,"Where the last shorten'd zone the axis binds."Now surely none, t' insult shall rashly dare"The thunderer's spouse, but tremble at her frown;"For she who most offends is honor'd most!"Much has my power perform'd!--vast is my sway!"Her human form I chang'd,--and lo! she shines"A goddess;--thus the guilty feel my ire!"Thus potent I. Why not her form restore,"And change that beastly shape, as Ioe once"In Argolis, the same indulgence felt."Why drives he not his consort from his bed,"Calistho placing there;--for sire-in-law"The wolf Lycaoen chusing? If to you"Your foster-daughter's insults ought import,"Forbid these stars to touch the blue profound:"Repel those constellations, plac'd in heaven,"Meed of adultery; lest the harlot dip"In your pure waves."--The gods their promise gaveAnd through the liquid air Saturnia flies,Borne in her chariot by her peacocks bright;Their coats gay studded from fall'n Argus' eyes.

Less beauteous was the change, loquacious crow,Thy plumage suffer'd,--snowy white to black.With silvery brightness once his feathers shone;Unspotted doves outvying; nor to thosePreserving birds the capital whose voiceSo watchful sav'd;--nor to the stream-fond swans,Inferior seem'd his covering: but his tongue,His babbling tongue his ruin wrought; and chang'dHis hue from splendid white to gloomy black.

No fairer maid all Thessaly contain'd,Than young Coronis,--to the Delphic godMost dear while chaste, or while her fault unknown.But Corvus, Phoebus' watchman, spy'd the deedAdulterous;--and inexorably bentTo tell the secret crime, his flight directsTo seek his master. Him the daw pursues,On plumes quick waving, curious all to learn.His errand heard, she cries;--"Thy anxious task,"A journey vain, pursue not: mark my words;--"Learn what I have been;--see what now I am;"And hear from whence my change: a fault you'll find"Too much fidelity, which wrought my woe.

"Time was, when Pallas, Ericthonius took,"Offspring created motherless, and close"In basket twin'd with Attic twigs conceal'd."The charge to keep, three sister-maids she chose,"Daughters of Cecrops double-form'd, but close,"Conceal'd what lodg'd within; and strict forbade"All prying, that her secret safe might rest."On a thick elm, behind light leaves conceal'd,"I mark'd their actions. Two their sacred charge"Hold faithful; Pandrosos, and Herse they:"Aglauros calls her sisters cowards weak;"The twistings with bold hand unloosening, sees"Within an infant, and a dragon stretch'd."The deed I tell to Pallas, and from her"My service this remuneration finds:"Driven from her presence, she my place supplies"Of favorite with the gloomy bird of night."All other birds my fate severe may warn,"To seek not danger by officious tales."Pallas, perhaps you think, but lightly lov'd"One whom she thus so suddenly disgrac'd."But ask of Pallas;--she, though much enrag'd"Will yet my truth confirm. A regal maid"Was I,--of facts to all well-known I speak:"Coroneus noble, of the Phocian lands"As sire I claim. Me wealthy suitors sought--"Contemn me not,--my beauty was my bane."While careless on the sandy shore I roam'd,"With gentle pace as wont, the ocean's god"Saw me and lov'd: persuasive words in vain"Long trying, force prepar'd, and me pursu'd."I fled; the firm shore left, and tir'd my limbs"Vainly, upon the light soft sinking sand."There to assist me men and gods I call'd;"Deaf to the sound was every mortal ear:"But by a virgin's cries a virgin mov'd,"Assistance gave. Up to the skies my arms"I stretch'd; and black my arms began to grow,"With waving pinions. From my shoulders, back"My robes I strove to fling,--my robes were plumes;"Deep in my skin the quills were fix'd: I try'd"On my bare bosom with my hands to beat;"Nor hands nor naked bosom now were found:"I ran; the sand no longer now retain'd"My feet, but lightly o'er the ground I skimm'd;"And soon on pinions through the air was borne;"And Pallas' faultless favorite I became."What now avail to me my pure deserts?"Nyctimene, whose horrid crime deserv'd"Her transformation, to my place succeeds."The deed so wide through spacious Lesbos known,"Ere this has reach'd thee;--how Nyctimene--"Her father's bed defil'd,--a bird became."Conscious of guilt, she shuns the sight of man;"Flies from the day, and in nocturnal shades"Conceals her shame; by every bird assail'd"And exil'd from the skies." The crow in rageTo her still chattering, cry'd;--"May each delay"Thy babbling causes, prove to thee a curse."I scorn thy foolish presages,"--and flewHis journey urging. When his master found,He told him where Coronis he had seenClaspt by a young Thessalian. Down he dropp'dHis laurel garland, when the crime he heardOf her he lov'd;--his harp away he flung;His countenance fell, and pale his visage grew.Now with fierce rage his swelling bosom fires;His wonted arms he seizes; draws his bow,Bent to the horns; and through that breast so oftEmbrac'd,--th' inevitable weapon drove.Deep groan'd the wounded nymph, and tearing outThe arrow from her breast, a purple floodGush'd o'er her shining limbs. She sighing cry'd,--"This fate, O Phoebus, I deserv'dly meet,"Were but thy infant born;--two now in one"Thy dart has slain!"--She spoke,--her vital bloodFast flow'd, and stay'd her voice. A deadly chillSeiz'd all her members, now of life bereft.Too late, alas! her sorrowing lover mournsHis cruel vengeance; and himself he hates,Too credulous listening, and too soon enflam'd:The bird he hates, who first betray'd the deedAnd caus'd him first to grieve: his bow he hates;His bowstring; arm; and with his arm the dart,Shot vengeful. Fond he clasps her fallen form;And strives by skill, by skill too late apply'dTo conquer fate:--his healing arts he tries,--All unavailing. Fruitless he beholdsHis each attempt, and sees the pile prepar'd;And final flames her limbs about to burn.Then from his deepest bosom burst his groans;(For tears on cheeks celestial ne'er are seen,)Such groans are utter'd when the heifer sees,The weighty mallet, from the right ear pois'd,Crush down the forehead of her suckling calf.And now his useless odors in her breastHe pour'd; embrac'd her; to her last rites gaveSolemnization due. The greedy firesHis offspring were not suffer'd to consume.Snatch'd from the curling flames, and from the wombOf his dead mother, he the infant boreTo double-body'd Chiron's secret cave.But bade the self-applauding crow, fill'd bigWith hopes of favor for his faithful tale,With snowy-plumag'd birds no more to join.

Meantime while Chiron, human half, half beast,Proud of his deity-descended charge,Joy'd in the honor with the task bestow'd:--Behold, her shoulders with her golden locksShaded, the daughter of the Centaur comes;Whom fair Chariclo, on a river's brinkSwift-rolling, bore, and thence Ocyrrhoe nam'd.She not content her father's arts to know,The hidden secrets of the fates disclos'd.Now was her soul with fate-foretelling soundsFill'd, and within her fiercely rag'd the god:The infant viewing;--"Grow," she said, "apace,"Health-bearer through the world. To thee shall oft"Expiring mortals owe returning life!"To thee 'tis given to render souls again"Back to their bodies! Once thou'lt dare the deed;--"The angry god's forbidding flames, thy power"Further preventing:--and a bloodless corps"Heaven-born, thou ly'st;---but what thy body form'd"A god becomes,--resuscitated twice."Thou too, my dearest and immortal sire!"To ages never-ending, born to live,"Shalt wish for death in vain; when writhing sad"From the dire serpent's venom in thy limbs,"By wounds instill'd. The pitying gods will change"Thy destin'd fate, and let immortal die:"The triple sisters shall thy thread divide."More yet untold remains;"--Deep from her chestThe sighs burst forth, and starting tears stream down,Laving her cheeks, while thus the maid pursues:"The fates prevent me, and forbid to tell"What more I would;--all power to speak deny."Those arts, alas! heaven's anger which have drawn,--"What were they? Would I ne'er the future knew!"Now seems my human shape to leave me. Now"The verdant grass a pleasing food appears."Now am I urg'd along the plain to bound;"Chang'd to a mare: unto my sire ally'd"In form,--but why sole chang'd? my father bears"A two-form'd body;"--Wailing thus, her wordsConfus'd and indistinct at length are heard.Next sounds are utter'd partly human, moreA mare's resembling:--then she neighs aloud;Treading with alter'd arms the ground: fast join'dHer fingers now become: a slender hoofHer toes connecting with continuous horn.Her head enlarges; and her neck expands;Her spreading garment floats a beauteous tail:Her scatter'd tresses o'er her shoulders flung,Form a thick mane to clothe her spacious neck:Her voice is alter'd with her alter'd shape:And change of name the wonderous deed attends.

Deep Chiron mourn'd, O Phoebus, and thy aidIn vain invok'd; for bootless was thy powerJove's mandate to resist; nor if thou could'stThen wast thou nigh to help. In Elis far,And fields Messenian then was thy abode.Then was the time when shepherd-like a robeOf skins enwrapp'd thee;--when thy left hand boreA sylvan staff;--thy right a pipe retain'd,Of seven unequal reeds. While love engag'dThy thoughts, and dulcet music sooth'd thy cares,'Tis said, thy herds without their herdsman stray'd,Far to the Pylian meadows. These the sonOf Atlantean Maiae espy'd;And, slily driven away, within the woodsThe cattle artful hid. None saw the deed,Save one old hoary swain, well known around,And Battus nam'd; whose post it was to guardThe groves, the grassy meads, and high-bred maresOf wealthy Neleus. Him the robber fear'd;Drew him aside, and coaxing thus address'd;--"Whoe'er thou art, good friend, if here perchance,"Someone should seek an herd,--say that thou here"No herd hast seen;--thou shall not lack reward:"Take this bright heifer:"--and the cow he gave.The bribe receiv'd, the shepherd thus replies;"Friend, thou art safe,--that stone shall sooner speak"And tell thy deed than I:"--and shew'd the stone.The son of Jove departs, or seems to go;But soon with alter'd form and voice returns."Here, countryman," he cries, "hast thou an herd"This way observ'd to pass?--no secret keep,"To aid the theft; an heifer with a bull"Await thy information." Doubly brib'd,The hoary rogue betray'd his former trust."Beneath those hills," he said, "the herd you'll find."Beneath the hills they were. Loud laugh'd the godAnd cry'd,--"Thou treacherous villain, to myself"Wouldst thou betray me? wouldst thou to myself"My deeds betray?" And to a flinty stoneHis perjur'd breast he chang'd, which still retainsThe name of Touchstone;--on the harmless rockHis infamous demerits firmly fix'd.

Hermes from hence, on waving wings upborneDarted, and in his flight beneath him sawThe Attic pastures,--the much-favor'd landOf Pallas; and Lyceum's cultur'd groves.It chanc'd that day, as wont, the virgins chaste,Bore on their heads in canisters festoon'd,Their offerings pure to Pallas' sacred fane.Returning thence the winged god espy'dThe troop, and straight his onward flight restrain'd;Wheeling in circles round. As sails the kite,Swiftest of birds, when entrails seen from farBy holy augurs thick beset,--he fearsA near approach, but circling steers his flightOn beating wings, around his hopes and round.So 'bove the Athenian towers the light-plum'd godSwept round in circles on the self-same air.As Phosphor far outshines the starry host;As silver Cynthia Phosphor bright outshines;So much did Herse all the nymphs excel,The bright procession's ornament; the prideOf all th' accompanying nymphs. Her beauteous mienStagger'd Jove's son, who hovering in the airFierce burns with love. The Balearic sling,Thus shoots a ball; quick through the air it flies,Warms in its flight, and feels beneath the cloudsFlames hereto known not. Alter'd now his routeThe skies he leaves, and holds a different flight:Nor veils his figure,--such reliance gaveHis beauteous form: and beauteous though that form,Yet careful did the god his looks adorn;He smoothes his tresses, and his robe adjustsTo hang in graceful folds, and fair displayThe golden fringe; his round and slender wand,Of sleep-procuring, sleep-repelling power,His right hand bears; and on his comely feetHis plumed sandals shine. Within the houseThree separate chambers were secluded form'd,With tortoise and with ivory rich adorn'd.Thou, Pandrosos, within the right repos'd;And on the left hand thou Aglauros, slept;Fair Herse in the midst. Aglauros firstThe god's approach descry'd, and daring ask'dWho he?--and what he sought?--To whom the god;"Him you behold, who through the air conveys"His sire's commands: Almighty Jove that sire."Nor will I feign my errand. So may'st thou"True to thy sister prove, and soon be call'd"My offspring's aunt. 'Tis Herse draws me here."Help then a lover in his warm pursuit."Aglauros bends on Mercury those eyes,Which yellow-hair'd Minerva's secret saw;And ponderous sums for her assistance claims;Driving the god meantime without the gates.With angry glare the warlike goddess view'dThe mercenary nymph, and angry sighs,Which shook her bosom heav'd; the AEgis shook,On that strong bosom fix'd. Now calls to mindMinerva how with hands prophane, the maidHer strict behests despising, daring pry'dTo know her secrets; and the seed beheldOf Vulcan, child without a mother form'd:Now to her sister and the god unkind;Rich with the gold her avarice had claim'd.To Envy's gloomy cell, where clots of goreThe floor defil'd, enrag'd Minerva flew:A darkened vale, deep sunk, the cavern held,where vivid sun ne'er shone, nor freshening breezeHealth wafted: torpid melancholy rul'd,And sluggish cold; and cheering light unknown,Damp darkness ever gloom'd. The goddess hereIn conflict dreaded came, but at the doorsHer footsteps staid, for entrance Fate forbade.The gates she strikes--struck by her spear, the gatesWide open fly, and dark within disclose,On vipers gorging, (her accustom'd feast,)The envious fiend: back from the hideous sightRecoils the goddess, and averts her eyes.Slow rising from the ground, her half chew'd foodShe quits, advancing indolently forth:The maid, in warlike brightness clad, she saw,In form divine, and heavy sighs burst forthDeep from her bosom's black recess: pale gloom.Dwells on her forehead; lean her fleshless form;Askaunce her eyes; encrusted black her teeth;Green'd deep with gall her breasts; her hideous tongueWith poisons lurid; laughter knows her not,Save woes and pangs unmerited she sees;Sleep flies her couch, by cares unceasing wrung;At men's success she sickens, pining sad;But stung herself, while others feel her stingHer torture closely grasps her.--Much the maidThe sight abhors; and thus in brief she speaks:--"Deep in the breast of Cecrops' daughter fix"Thy venom'd sting--Aglauros is the nymph.--"More needs not."--Speaking so Minerva fled,Upbounding, earth she with her spear repell'd.Glancing asquint the fury saw her rise,And inly groan'd,--that she success should gain.Her staff with prickly thorns enwreath'd she takes,And forth she sallies, wrapp'd in gloomy clouds.Where'er she flies she blasts the flowery fields;Consumes the herbage; and the harvest blights.Her breath pestiferous felt the cities round,Houses and 'habitants where'er she flew.At length the towers of Athens she beheldWith arts and riches flourishing, and blestWith holy peace. Scarce could she tears withhold,No tearful eye throughout the place to see.Straight to the room of Cecrops' daughter nowHer route she urges, and her task performs:Her rusty hand upon the maiden's breastShe plants, and with sharp thorns that bosom fills;Breathes noxious poison through her frame; imbuesWith venom black her heart, and all her limbs.Lest from her eyes escap'd, the maddening sceneShould cease to vex her, full in view she plac'dHer sister, and her sister's nuptial rites;And Hermes beauteous in the bridal pomp:In beauty all, and splendor all increas'd.Mad with the imag'd sight, the maid is gnawnWith secret pangs;--deep groans the lengthen'd night,And deep the morning hears; she wastes awaySilently wretched, lingeringly slow.As Sol's faint rays the summer ice dissolves:So burns she to behold the envy'd lotOf Herse; not with furious flames,--as weedsBlaze not when damp, but with slow heat consume.Oft would she wish to die: and oft the deedTo hinder, thinks to tell her rigid sireHer sister's fault. At length her seat she takesAcross the threshold, and th' approaching godRepuls'd; and to his blandishments, and wordsBeseeching fair, and soft-alluring prayers,She cry'd,--"Desist,--from hence I ne'er will move"Till thou art driven away." Swift Hermes said.--"Keep firmly that resolve." And with his wandThe sculptur'd portals touching, wide they flew.But when her limbs to raise, the virgin strove,A weighty numbness o'er the members creptWhich bend in sitting, and their movement staid.Strenuous she strives to raise her form erect,But stiffen'd feels her knees; chill coldness spreadsThrough all her toes; and, fled the purple stream,Her veins turn pallid: cruel cancer thus,Disease incurable, spreads far and wide,Sound members adding to the parts diseas'd.So gradual, o'er her breast the chilling frostCrept deadly, and the gates of life shut close.Complaint she try'd not; had she try'd, her voiceHad found no passage, for the stone had seiz'dHer throat,--her mouth; to marble all was chang'd.She sat a pallid statue;--all the stoneHer envy tainted with a livid hue.

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 skyOn 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 stateAnd love agree; nor long combin'd remain.The sire and ruler of the gods resignsHis weighty sceptre: he whose right hand bearsThe three-fork'd fires; whose nod creation shakes,Assumes a bull's appearance:--with the herdMingles; and strolling lets the tender shrubsBrush 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 extendsThe 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 eyesFlame 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 firstA close approach;--but nearer soon she drew,And to his shining mouth the flowery foodPresented. Joy'd th' impatient lover stands,Her fingers kissing; and with sore restraintDefers his look'd for pleasures. Sportive nowHe wantons, frisking in the grass; now rollsHis 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 nowUpon 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 wavesJust dips his feet;--thence plunging deep, he swimsThrough 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.