| 10.15. Persephonen adiit inamoenaque regna tenentem 10.16. umbrarum dominum. Pulsisque ad carmina nervis 10.17. sic ait: “O positi sub terra numina mundi 10.18. in quem reccidimus, quidquid mortale creamur 10.19. si licet et falsi positis ambagibus oris 10.20. vera loqui sinitis, non huc, ut opaca viderem 10.21. Tartara, descendi, nec uti villosa colubris 10.22. terna Medusaei vincirem guttura monstri: 10.23. causa viae est coniunx, in quam calcata venenum 10.24. vipera diffudit crescentesque abstulit annos. 10.25. Posse pati volui nec me temptasse negabo: 10.26. vicit Amor. Supera deus hic bene notus in ora est 10.27. an sit et hic, dubito. Sed et hic tamen auguror esse; 10.28. famaque si veteris non est mentita rapinae 10.29. vos quoque iunxit Amor. Per ego haec loca plena timoris 10.30. per chaos hoc ingens vastique silentia regni 10.31. Eurydices, oro, properata retexite fata. 10.32. Omnia debemur vobis, paulumque morati 10.33. serius aut citius sedem properamus ad unam. 10.34. Tendimus huc omnes, haec est domus ultima, vosque 10.35. humani generis longissima regna tenetis. 10.36. Haec quoque, cum iustos matura peregerit annos 10.37. iuris erit vestri: pro munere poscimus usum. 10.38. Quod si fata negant veniam pro coniuge, certum est 10.39. nolle redire mihi: leto gaudete duorum.” 10.40. Talia dicentem nervosque ad verba moventem 10.147. concordare modos, hoc vocem carmine movit: 10.148. “Ab Iove, Musa parens, (cedunt Iovis omnia regno!) 10.149. carmina nostra move! Iovis est mihi saepe potestas 10.150. dicta prius: cecini plectro graviore Gigantas 10.151. sparsaque Phlegraeis victricia fulmina campis: 10.152. nunc opus est leviore lyra, puerosque canamus 10.153. dilectos superis, inconcessisque puellas 10.154. ignibus attonitas meruisse libidine poenam. 10.155. Rex superum Phrygii quondam Ganymedis amore 10.156. arsit, et inventum est aliquid, quod Iuppiter esse 10.157. quam quod erat, mallet. Nulla tamen alite verti 10.158. dignatur, nisi quae posset sua fulmina ferre. 10.159. Nec mora, percusso mendacibus aere pennis 10.160. abripit Iliaden; qui nunc quoque pocula miscet 10.161. invitaque Iovi nectar Iunone ministrat. 10.162. Te quoque, Amyclide, posuisset in aethere Phoebus 10.163. tristia si spatium ponendi fata dedissent. 10.164. Qua licet, aeternus tamen es: quotiensque repellit 10.165. ver hiemem piscique aries succedit aquoso 10.166. tu totiens oreris viridique in caespite flores. 10.167. Te meus ante omnes genitor dilexit, et orbe 10.168. in medio positi caruerunt praeside Delphi 10.169. dum deus Eurotan inmunitamque frequentat 10.170. Sparten. Nec citharae nec sunt in honore sagittae: 10.171. inmemor ipse sui non retia ferre recusat 10.172. non tenuisse canes, non per iuga montis iniqui 10.173. ire comes, longaque alit adsuetudine flammas. 10.174. Iamque fere medius Titan venientis et actae 10.175. noctis erat spatioque pari distabat utrimque: 10.176. corpora veste levant et suco pinguis olivi 10.177. splendescunt latique ineunt certamina disci. 10.178. Quem prius aerias libratum Phoebus in auras 10.179. misit et oppositas disiecit pondere nubes. 10.180. Reccidit in solidam longo post tempore terram 10.181. pondus et exhibuit iunctam cum viribus artem. 10.182. Protinus imprudens actusque cupidine lusus 10.183. tollere Taenarides orbem properabat. At illum 10.184. dura repercusso subiecit verbere tellus 10.185. in vultus, Hyacinthe, tuos. Expalluit aeque 10.186. quam puer ipse deus conlapsosque excipit artus 10.187. et modo te refovet, modo tristia vulnera siccat 10.188. nunc animam admotis fugientem sustinet herbis. 10.189. Nil prosunt artes: erat inmedicabile vulnus. 10.190. Ut siquis violas rigidumve papaver in horto 10.191. liliaque infringat fulvis horrentia linguis 10.192. marcida demittant subito caput illa vietum 10.193. nec se sustineant spectentque cacumine terram: 10.194. sic vultus moriens iacet, et defecta vigore 10.195. ipsa sibi est oneri cervix umeroque recumbit. 10.196. “Laberis, Oebalide, prima fraudate iuventa,” 10.197. Phoebus ait “videoque tuum, mea crimina, vulnus. 10.198. Tu dolor es facinusque meum: mea dextera leto 10.199. inscribenda tuo est! Ego sum tibi funeris auctor. 10.200. Quae mea culpa tamen? Nisi si lusisse vocari 10.201. culpa potest, nisi culpa potest et amasse vocari. 10.202. Atque utinam merito vitam tecumque liceret 10.203. reddere! Quod quoniam fatali lege tenemur 10.204. semper eris mecum memorique haerebis in ore. 10.205. Te lyra pulsa manu, te carmina nostra sonabunt 10.206. flosque novus scripto gemitus imitabere nostros. 10.207. Tempus et illud erit, quo se fortissimus heros 10.208. addat in hunc florem folioque legatur eodem.” 10.209. Talia dum vero memorantur Apollinis ore 10.210. ecce cruor, qui fusus humo signaverat herbas 10.211. desinit esse cruor, Tyrioque nitentior ostro 10.212. flos oritur formamque capit quam lilia, si non 10.213. purpureus color his, argenteus esset in illis. 10.214. Non satis hoc Phoebo est (is enim fuit auctor honoris): 10.215. ipse suos gemitus foliis inscribit, et AI AI 10.216. flos habet inscriptum, funestaque littera dicta est. 10.217. Nec genuisse pudet Sparten Hyacinthon, honorque 10.218. durat in hoc aevi, celebrandaque more priorum 10.219. annua praelata redeunt Hyacinthia pompa. 10.220. At si forte roges fecundam Amathunta metallis 10.221. an genuisse velit Propoetidas, abnuat aeque 10.222. atque illos, gemino quondam quibus aspera cornu 10.223. frons erat: unde etiam nomen traxere Cerastae. 10.224. Ante fores horum stabat Iovis Hospitis ara; 10.225. ignarus sceleris quam siquis sanguine tinctam 10.226. advena vidisset, mactatos crederet illic 10.227. lactantes vitulos Amathusiacasque bidentes: 10.228. hospes erat caesus. Sacris offensa nefandis 10.229. ipsa suas urbes Ophiusiaque arva parabat 10.230. deserere alma Venus. “Sed quid loca grata, quid urbes 10.231. peccavere meae? Quod” dixit “crimen in illis? 10.232. Exsilio poenam potius gens impia pendat 10.233. vel nece, vel siquid medium est mortisque fugaeque. 10.234. Idque quid esse potest, nisi versae poena figurae?” 10.235. Dum dubitat, quo mutet eos, ad cornua vultum 10.236. flexit et admonita est haec illis posse relinqui: 10.237. grandiaque in torvos transformat membra iuvencos. 10.238. Sunt tamen obscenae Venerem Propoetides ausae 10.239. esse negare deam. Pro quo sua, numinis ira 10.240. corpora cum forma primae vulgasse feruntur: 10.241. utque pudor cessit sanguisque induruit oris 10.242. in rigidum parvo silicem discrimine versae. 10.243. Quas quia Pygmalion aevum per crimen agentes 10.244. viderat, offensus vitiis, quae plurima menti 10.245. femineae natura dedit, sine coniuge caelebs 10.246. vivebat thalamique diu consorte carebat. 10.247. Interea niveum mira feliciter arte 10.248. sculpsit ebur formamque dedit, qua femina nasci 10.249. nulla potest: operisque sui concepit amorem. 10.250. Virginis est verae facies, quam vivere credas 10.251. et, si non obstet reverentia, velle moveri: 10.252. ars adeo latet arte sua. Miratur et haurit 10.253. pectore Pygmalion simulati corporis ignes. 10.254. Saepe manus operi temptantes admovet, an sit 10.255. corpus an illud ebur: nec adhuc ebur esse fatetur. 10.256. Oscula dat reddique putat loquiturque tenetque 10.257. et credit tactis digitos insidere membris 10.258. et metuit, pressos veniat ne livor in artus. 10.259. Et modo blanditias adhibet, modo grata puellis 10.260. munera fert illi conchas teretesque lapillos 10.261. et parvas volucres et flores mille colorum 10.262. liliaque pictasque pilas et ab arbore lapsas 10.263. Heliadum lacrimas; ornat quoque vestibus artus 10.264. dat digitis gemmas, dat longa monilia collo: 10.265. aure leves bacae, redimicula pectore pendent. 10.266. Cuncta decent: nec nuda minus formosa videtur. 10.267. Conlocat hanc stratis concha Sidonide tinctis 10.268. appellatque tori sociam, acclinataque colla 10.269. mollibus in plumis, tamquam sensura, reponit. 10.270. Festa dies Veneris tota celeberrima Cypro 10.271. venerat, et pandis inductae cornibus aurum 10.272. conciderant ictae nivea cervice iuvencae 10.273. turaque fumabant: cum munere functus ad aras 10.274. constitit et timide, “si di dare cuncta potestis 10.275. sit coniunx, opto” (non ausus “eburnea virgo” 10.276. dicere) Pygmalion “similis mea” dixit “eburnae.” 10.277. Sensit, ut ipsa suis aderat Venus aurea festis 10.278. vota quid illa velint; et, amici numinis omen 10.279. flamma ter accensa est apicemque per aera duxit. 10.280. Ut rediit, simulacra suae petit ille puellae 10.281. incumbensque toro dedit oscula: visa tepere est. 10.282. Admovet os iterum, manibus quoque pectora temptat: 10.283. temptatum mollescit ebur positoque rigore 10.284. subsidit digitis ceditque, ut Hymettia sole 10.285. cera remollescit tractataque pollice multas 10.286. flectitur in facies ipsoque fit utilis usu. 10.287. Dum stupet et dubie gaudet fallique veretur 10.288. rursus amans rursusque manu sua vota retractat. 10.289. Corpus erat: saliunt temptatae pollice venae. 10.290. Tum vero Paphius plenissima concipit heros 10.291. verba, quibus Veneri grates agat, oraque tandem 10.292. ore suo non falsa premit: dataque oscula virgo 10.293. sensit et erubuit timidumque ad lumina lumen 10.294. attollens pariter cum caelo vidit amantem. 10.295. Coniugio, quod fecit, adest dea. Iamque coactis 10.296. cornibus in plenum noviens lunaribus orbem 10.297. illa Paphon genuit, de qua tenet insula nomen. 10.298. Editus hac ille est, qui, si sine prole fuisset 10.299. inter felices Cinyras potuisset haberi. 10.300. Dira canam: procul hinc natae, procul este parentes! 10.301. Aut, mea si vestras mulcebunt carmina mentes 10.302. desit in hac mihi parte fides, nec credite factum 10.303. vel, si credetis, facti quoque credite poenam. 10.304. Si tamen admissum sinit hoc natura videri 10.305. gentibus Ismariis et nostro gratulor orbi 10.306. gratulor huic terrae, quod abest regionibus illis 10.307. quae tantum genuere nefas. Sit dives amomo 10.308. cinnamaque costumque suum sudataque ligno 10.309. tura ferat floresque alios Panchaia tellus 10.310. dum ferat et murram: tanti nova non fuit arbor. 10.311. Ipse negat nocuisse tibi sua tela Cupido 10.312. Myrrha, facesque suas a crimine vindicat isto. 10.313. Stipite te Stygio tumidisque adflavit echidnis 10.314. e tribus una soror. Scelus est odisse parentem: 10.315. hic amor est odio maius scelus. Undique lecti 10.316. te cupiunt proceres, totoque oriente iuventus 10.317. ad thalami certamen adest. Ex omnibus unum 10.318. elige, Myrrha, virum: dum ne sit in omnibus unus. 10.319. Illa quidem sentit foedoque repugnat amori 10.320. et secum “quo mente feror? quid molior?” inquit: 10.321. “di, precor, et pietas sacrataque iura parentum 10.322. hoc prohibete nefas scelerique resistite nostro, — 10.323. si tamen hoc scelus est. Sed enim damnare negatur 10.324. hanc venerem pietas, coeuntque animalia nullo 10.325. cetera delicto. Nec habetur turpe iuvencae 10.326. ferre patrem tergo, fit equo sua filia coniunx 10.327. quasque creavit init pecudes caper, ipsaque, cuius 10.328. semine concepta est, ex illo concipit ales. 10.329. Felices, quibus ista licent! Humana malignas 10.330. cura dedit leges, et quod natura remittit 10.331. invida iura negant. Gentes tamen esse feruntur 10.332. in quibus et nato genetrix et nata parenti 10.333. iungitur, ut pietas geminato crescat amore. 10.334. Me miseram, quod non nasci mihi contigit illic 10.335. fortunaque loci laedor! — Quid in ista revolvor? 10.336. Spes interdictae discedite! Dignus amari 10.337. ille, sed ut pater, est. — Ergo si filia magni 10.338. non essem Cinyrae, Cinyrae concumbere possem; 10.339. nunc quia iam meus est, non est meus, ipsaque damno 10.340. est mihi proximitas: aliena potentior essem. 10.341. Ire libet procul hinc patriaeque relinquere fines 10.342. dum scelus effugiam. Retinet malus ardor amantem 10.343. ut praesens spectem Cinyram tangamque loquarque 10.344. osculaque admoveam, si nil conceditur ultra. 10.345. Ultra autem spectare aliquid potes, impia virgo? 10.346. Et quot confundas et iura et nomina, sentis! 10.347. Tune eris et matris paelex et adultera patris? 10.348. Tune soror nati genetrixque vocabere fratris? 10.349. Nec metues atro crinitas angue sorores 10.350. quas facibus saevis oculos atque ora petentes 10.351. noxia corda vident? At tu, dum corpore non es 10.352. passa nefas, animo ne concipe, neve potentis 10.353. concubitu vetito naturae pollue foedus. 10.354. Velle puta: res ipsa vetat. Pius ille memorque est 10.355. moris — et o vellem similis furor esset in illo!” 10.356. Dixerat, at Cinyras, quem copia digna procorum 10.357. quid faciat, dubitare facit, scitatur ab ipsa 10.358. nominibus dictis, cuius velit esse mariti. 10.359. Illa silet primo, patriisque in vultibus haerens 10.360. aestuat et tepido suffundit lumina rore. 10.361. Virginei Cinyras haec credens esse timoris 10.362. flere vetat siccatque genas atque oscula iungit. 10.363. Myrrha datis nimium gaudet: consultaque, qualem 10.364. optet habere virum, “similem tibi” dixit. At ille 10.365. non intellectam vocem conlaudat et “esto 10.366. tam pia semper” ait. Pietatis nomine dicto 10.367. demisit vultus sceleris sibi conscia virgo. 10.368. Noctis erat medium, curasque et corpora somnus 10.369. solverat. At virgo Cinyreia pervigil igni 10.370. carpitur indomito furiosaque vota retractat. 10.371. Et modo desperat, modo vult temptare, pudetque 10.372. et cupit, et, quid agat, non invenit. Utque securi 10.373. saucia trabs ingens, ubi plaga novissima restat 10.374. quo cadat, in dubio est omnique a parte timetur: 10.375. sic animus vario labefactus vulnere nutat 10.376. huc levis atque illuc momentaque sumit utroque. 10.377. Nec modus aut requies, nisi mors, reperitur amoris. 10.378. Mors placet. Erigitur laqueoque innectere fauces 10.379. destinat et zona summo de poste revincta 10.380. “care vale Cinyra causamque intellege mortis!” 10.381. dixit et aptabat pallenti vincula collo. 10.382. Murmura verborum fidas nutricis ad aures 10.383. pervenisse ferunt limen servantis alumnae. 10.384. Surgit anus reseratque fores, mortisque paratae 10.385. instrumenta videns spatio conclamat eodem 10.386. seque ferit scinditque sinus ereptaque collo 10.387. vincula dilaniat. Tum denique flere vacavit 10.388. tum dare complexus laqueique requirere causam. 10.389. Muta silet virgo terramque inmota tuetur 10.390. et deprensa dolet tardae conamina mortis. 10.391. Instat anus canosque suos et iia nudans 10.392. ubera per cunas alimentaque prima precatur 10.393. ut sibi committat, quidquid dolet. Illa rogantem 10.394. aversata gemit. Certa est exquirere nutrix 10.395. nec solam spondere fidem: “dic” inquit “opemque 10.396. me sine ferre tibi; non est mea pigra senectus. 10.397. Seu furor est, habeo, quae carmine sanet et herbis 10.398. sive aliquis nocuit, magico lustrabere ritu 10.399. ira deum sive est, sacris placabilis ira. 10.400. Quid rear ulterius ? Certe fortuna domusque 10.401. sospes et in cursu est, vivit genetrixque paterque.” 10.402. Myrrha, patre audito, suspiria duxit ab imo 10.403. pectore. Nec nutrix etiamnum concipit ullum 10.404. mente nefas, aliquemque tamen praesentit amorem; 10.405. propositique tenax, quodcumque est, orat, ut ipsi 10.406. indicet, et gremio lacrimantem tollit anili 10.407. atque ita complectens infirmis membra lacertis 10.408. “sensimus,” inquit “amas! sed et hic mea (pone timorem) 10.409. sedulitas erit apta tibi, nec sentiet umquam 10.410. hoc pater.” Exsiluit gremio furibunda torumque 10.411. ore premens “discede, precor, miseroque pudori 10.412. parce!” ait. Instanti “discede, aut desine” dixit 10.413. “quaerere, quid doleam: scelus est, quod scire laboras.” 10.414. Horret anus tremulasque manus annisque metuque 10.415. tendit et ante pedes supplex procumbit alumnae 10.416. et modo blanditur, modo, si non conscia fiat 10.417. terret; et indicium laquei coeptaeque minatur 10.418. mortis et officium commisso spondet amori. 10.419. Extulit illa caput lacrimisque implevit obortis 10.420. pectora nutricis; conataque saepe fateri 10.421. saepe tenet vocem, pudibundaque vestibus ora 10.422. texit et “o” dixit “felicem coniuge matrem!” 10.423. Hactenus, et gemuit. Gelidus nutricis in artus 10.424. ossaque (sensit enim) penetrat tremor, albaque toto 10.425. vertice canities rigidis stetit hirta capillis. 10.426. Multaque, ut excuteret diros, si posset, amores 10.427. addidit: at virgo scit se non falsa moneri 10.428. certa mori tamen est, si non potiatur amore. 10.429. “Vive,” ait haec “potiere tuo” — et, non ausa “parente” 10.430. dicere, conticuit promissaque numine firmat. 10.431. Festa piae Cereris celebrabant annua matres 10.432. illa, quibus nivea velatae corpora veste 10.433. primitias frugum dant spicea serta suarum 10.434. perque novem noctes venerem tactusque viriles 10.435. in vetitis numerant. Turba Cenchreis in illa 10.436. regis adest coniunx, arcanaque sacra frequentat. 10.437. Ergo legitima vacuus dum coniuge lectus 10.438. nacta gravem vino Cinyram male sedula nutrix 10.439. nomine mentito veros exponit amores 10.440. et faciem laudat. Quaesitis virginis annis 10.441. “par” ait “est Myrrhae.” Quam postquam adducere iussa est 10.442. utque domum rediit, “gaude mea” dixit “alumna: 10.443. vicimus.” Infelix non toto pectore sentit 10.444. laetitiam virgo, praesagaque pectora maerent; 10.445. sed tamen et gaudet: tanta est discordia mentis. 10.446. Tempus erat, quo cuncta silent, interque triones 10.447. flexerat obliquo plaustrum temone Bootes: 10.448. ad facinus venit illa suum. Fugit aurea caelo 10.449. luna, tegunt nigrae latitantia sidera nubes: 10.450. nox caret igne suo. Primus tegis, Icare, vultus 10.451. Erigoneque pio sacrata parentis amore. 10.452. Ter pedis offensi signo est revocata, ter omen 10.453. funereus bubo letali carmine fecit: 10.454. it tamen, et tenebrae minuunt noxque atra pudorem; 10.455. nutricisque manum laeva tenet, altera motu 10.456. caecum iter explorat. Thalami iam limina tangit 10.457. iamque fores aperit, iam ducitur intus: at illi 10.458. poplite succiduo genua intremuere, fugitque 10.459. et color et sanguis, animusque relinquit euntem. 10.460. Quoque suo propior sceleri est, magis horret, et ausi 10.461. paenitet, et vellet non cognita posse reverti. 10.462. Cunctantem longaeva manu deducit et alto 10.463. admotam lecto cum traderet “accipe,” dixit 10.464. “ista tua est, Cinyra” devotaque corpora iunxit. 10.465. Accipit obsceno genitor sua viscera lecto 10.466. virgineosque metus levat hortaturque timentem. 10.467. Forsitan aetatis quoque nomine “filia” dixit 10.468. dixit et illa “pater,” sceleri ne nomina desint. 10.469. Plena patris thalamis excedit et impia diro 10.470. semina fert utero conceptaque crimina portat. 10.471. Postera nox facinus geminat. Nec finis in illa est: 10.472. cum tandem Cinyras, avidus cognoscere amantem 10.473. post tot concubitus, inlato lumine vidit 10.474. et scelus et natam, verbisque dolore retentis 10.475. pendenti nitidum vagina deripit ensem. 10.476. Myrrha fugit, tenebrisque et caecae munere noctis 10.477. intercepta neci est: latosque vagata per agros 10.478. palmiferos Arabas Panchaeaque rura reliquit; 10.479. perque novem erravit redeuntis cornua lunae 10.480. cum tandem terra requievit fessa Sabaea; 10.481. vixque uteri portabat onus. Tum nescia voti 10.482. atque inter mortisque metus et taedia vitae 10.483. est tales complexa preces: “O siqua patetis 10.484. numina confessis, merui nec triste recuso 10.485. supplicium. Sed ne violem vivosque superstes 10.486. mortuaque exstinctos, ambobus pellite regnis 10.487. mutataeque mihi vitamque necemque negate.” 10.488. Numen confessis aliquod patet: ultima certe 10.489. vota suos habuere deos. Nam crura loquentis 10.490. terra supervenit, ruptosque obliqua per ungues 10.491. porrigitur radix, longi firmamina trunci; 10.492. ossaque robur agunt, mediaque manente medulla 10.493. sanguis it in sucos, in magnos bracchia ramos 10.494. in parvos digiti, duratur cortice pellis. 10.495. Iamque gravem crescens uterum perstrinxerat arbor 10.496. pectoraque obruerat collumque operire parabat 10.497. non tulit illa moram venientique obvia ligno 10.498. subsedit mersitque suos in cortice vultus. 10.499. Quae quamquam amisit veteres cum corpore sensus 10.500. flet tamen, et tepidae mat ex arbore guttae. 10.501. Est honor et lacrimis, stillataque robore murra 10.502. nomen erile tenet nulloque tacebitur aevo. 10.503. At male conceptus sub robore creverat infans 10.504. quaerebatque viam, qua se genetrice relicta 10.505. exsereret: media gravidus tumet arbore venter. 10.506. Tendit onus matrem: neque habent sua verba dolores 10.507. nec Lucina potest parientis voce vocari. 10.508. Nitenti tamen est similis curvataque crebros 10.509. dat gemitus arbor lacrimisque cadentibus umet. 10.510. Constitit ad ramos mitis Lucina dolentes 10.511. admovitque manus et verba puerpera dixit. 10.512. Arbor agit rimas et fissa cortice vivum 10.513. reddit onus, vagitque puer; quem mollibus herbis 10.514. naides impositum lacrimis unxere parentis. 10.515. Laudaret faciem Livor quoque. Qualia namque 10.516. corpora nudorum tabula pinguntur Amorum 10.517. talis erat: sed, ne faciat discrimina cultus 10.518. aut huic adde leves, aut illi deme pharetras. 10.519. Labitur occulte fallitque volatilis aetas 10.520. et nihil est annis velocius. Ille sorore 10.521. natus avoque suo, qui conditus arbore nuper 10.522. nuper erat genitus, modo formosissimus infans 10.523. iam iuvenis, iam vir, iam se formosior ipso est: 10.524. iam placet et Veneri matrisque ulciscitur ignes. 10.525. Namque pharetratus dum dat puer oscula matri 10.526. inscius exstanti destrinxit harundine pectus. 10.527. Laesa manu natum dea reppulit. Altius actum 10.528. vulnus erat specie primoque fefellerat ipsam. 10.529. Capta viri forma non iam Cythereia curat 10.530. litora, non alto repetit Paphon aequore cinctam 10.531. piscosamque Gnidon gravidamve Amathunta metallis; 10.532. abstinet et caelo: caelo praefertur Adonis. 10.533. Hunc tenet, huic comes est; adsuetaque semper in umbra 10.534. indulgere sibi formamque augere colendo 10.535. per iuga, per silvas dumosaque saxa vagatur 10.536. fine genu vestem ritu succincta Dianae 10.537. hortaturque canes; tutaeque animalia praedae 10.538. aut pronos lepores aut celsum in cornua cervum 10.539. aut agitat dammas: a fortibus abstinet apris 10.540. raptoresque lupos armatosque unguibus ursos 10.541. vitat et armenti saturatos caede leones. 10.542. Te quoque, ut hos timeas, siquid prodesse monendo 10.543. possit, Adoni, monet, “fortis” que “fugacibus esto” 10.544. inquit “in audaces non est audacia tuta. 10.545. Parce meo, iuvenis, temerarius esse periclo 10.546. neve feras, quibus arma dedit natura, lacesse 10.547. stet mihi ne magno tua gloria. Non movet aetas 10.548. nec facies nec quae Venerem movere, leones 10.549. saetigerosque sues oculosque animosque ferarum. 10.550. Fulmen habent acres in aduncis dentibus apri 10.551. impetus est fulvis et vasta leonibus ira 10.552. invisumque mihi genus est.” Quae causa, roganti 10.553. “dicam,” ait “et veteris monstrum mirabere culpae. 10.554. Sed labor insolitus iam me lassavit, et ecce 10.555. opportuna sua blanditur populus umbra 10.556. datque torum caespes; libet hac requiescere tecum” 10.557. (et requievit) “humo” pressitque et gramen et ipsum 10.558. inque sinu iuvenis posita cervice reclinis 10.559. sic ait ac mediis interserit oscula verbis: 10.560. “Forsitan audieris aliquam certamine cursus 10.561. veloces superasse viros. Non fabula rumor 10.562. ille fuit: superabat enim; nec dicere posses 10.563. laude pedum formaene bono praestantior esset. 10.564. Scitanti deus huic de coniuge “coniuge” dixit 10.565. “nil opus est, Atalanta, tibi: fuge coniugis usum! 10.566. nec tamen effugies teque ipsa viva carebis.” 10.567. Territa sorte dei per opacas innuba silvas 10.568. vivit et instantem turbam violenta procorum 10.569. condicione fugat, nec “sum potienda, nisi” inquit 10.570. “victa prius cursu. Pedibus contendite mecum: 10.571. praemia veloci coniunx thalamique dabuntur 10.572. mors pretium tardis. Ea lex certaminis esto.” 10.573. Illa quidem inmitis: sed (tanta potentia formae est) 10.574. venit ad hanc legem temeraria turba procorum. 10.575. Sederat Hippomenes cursus spectator iniqui 10.576. et “petitur cuiquam per tanta pericula coniunx?” 10.577. dixerat ac nimios iuvenum damnarat amores. 10.578. Ut faciem et posito corpus velamine vidit 10.579. quale meum, vel quale tuum, si femina fias 10.580. obstipuit tollensque manus “ignoscite,” dixit 10.581. “quos modo culpavi. Nondum mihi praemia nota 10.582. quae peteretis, erant.” Laudando concipit ignes 10.583. et, ne quis iuvenum currat velocius, optat 10.584. invidiaque timet. “Sed cur certaminis huius 10.585. intemptata mihi fortuna relinquitur?” inquit 10.586. “audentes deus ipse iuvat.” Dum talia secum 10.587. exigit Hippomenes, passu volat alite virgo. 10.588. Quae quamquam Scythica non setius ire sagitta 10.589. Aonio visa est iuveni, tamen ille decorem 10.590. miratur magis; et cursus facit ipse decorem. 10.591. Aura refert ablata citis talaria plantis 10.592. tergaque iactantur crines per eburnea, quaeque 10.593. poplitibus suberant picto genualia limbo; 10.594. inque puellari corpus candore ruborem 10.595. traxerat, haud aliter, quam cum super atria velum 10.596. candida purpureum simulatas inficit umbras. 10.597. Dum notat haec hospes, decursa novissima meta est 10.598. et tegitur festa victrix Atalanta corona. 10.599. Dant gemitum victi penduntque ex foedere poenas. 10.600. Non tamen eventu iuvenis deterritus horum 10.601. constitit in medio, vultuque in virgine fixo 10.602. “quid facilem titulum superando quaeris inertes? 10.603. mecum confer!” ait. “Seu me fortuna potentem 10.604. fecerit, a tanto non indignabere vinci: 10.605. namque mihi genitor Megareus Onchestius, illi 10.606. est Neptunus avus, pronepos ego regis aquarum 10.607. nec virtus citra genus est; seu vincar, habebis 10.608. Hippomene victo magnum et memorabile nomen.” 10.609. Talia dicentem molli Schoeneia vultu 10.610. adspicit et dubitat, superari an vincere malit. 10.611. Atque ita “quis deus hunc formosis” inquit “iniquus 10.612. perdere vult caraeque iubet discrimine vitae 10.613. coniugium petere hoc? Non sum, me iudice, tanti. — 10.614. Nec forma tangor (poteram tamen hac quoque tangi) 10.615. sed quod adhuc puer est: non me movet ipse, sed aetas. 10.616. Quid quod inest virtus et mens interrita leti? 10.617. Quid quod ab aequorea numeratur origine quartus? 10.618. Quid quod amat tantique putat conubia nostra 10.619. ut pereat, si me fors illi dura negarit? 10.620. Dum licet, hospes, abi thalamosque relinque cruentos: 10.621. coniugium crudele meum est. Tibi nubere nulla 10.622. nolet, et optari potes a sapiente puella. — 10.623. Cur tamen est mihi cura tui tot iam ante peremptis? 10.624. Viderit! Intereat, quoniam tot caede procorum 10.625. admonitus non est agiturque in taedia vitae. — 10.626. Occidet hic igitur, voluit quia vivere mecum 10.627. indignamque necem pretium patietur amoris? 10.628. Non erit invidiae victoria nostra ferendae. 10.629. Sed non culpa mea est. Utinam desistere velles 10.630. aut, quoniam es demens, utinam velocior esses! 10.631. A! quam virgineus puerili vultus in ore est! 10.632. A! miser Hippomene, nollem tibi visa fuissem! 10.633. Vivere dignus eras. Quod si felicior essem 10.634. nec mihi coniugium fata importuna negarent 10.635. unus eras, cum quo sociare cubilia vellem.” 10.636. Dixerat; utque rudis primoque Cupidine tacta 10.637. quid facit ignorans, amat et non sentit amorem. 10.638. Iam solitos poscunt cursus populusque paterque 10.639. cum me sollicita proles Neptunia voce 10.640. invocat Hippomenes “Cytherea” que “comprecor, ausis 10.641. adsit” ait “nostris et quos dedit adiuvet ignes.” 10.642. Detulit aura preces ad me non invida blandas; 10.643. motaque sum, fateor. Nec opis mora longa dabatur. 10.644. Est ager, indigenae Tamasenum nomine dicunt 10.645. telluris Cypriae pars optima, quam mihi prisci 10.646. sacravere senes templisque accedere dotem 10.647. hanc iussere meis. Medio nitet arbor in arvo 10.648. fulva comas, fulvo ramis crepitantibus auro. 10.649. Hinc tria forte mea veniens decerpta ferebam 10.650. aurea poma manu: nullique videnda nisi ipsi 10.651. Hippomenen adii docuique, quis usus in illis. 10.652. Signa tubae dederant, cum carcere pronus uterque 10.653. emicat et summam celeri pede libat harenam. 10.654. Posse putes illos sicco freta radere passu 10.655. et segetis canae stantes percurrere aristas. 10.656. Adiciunt animos iuveni clamorque favorque 10.657. verbaque dicentum: “Nunc, nunc incumbere tempus! 10.658. Hippomene, propera! nunc viribus utere totis! 10.659. pelle moram, vinces!” Dubium, Megareius heros 10.660. gaudeat, an virgo magis his Schoeneia dictis. 10.661. O quotiens, cum iam posset transire, morata est 10.662. spectatosque diu vultus invita reliquit! 10.663. Aridus e lasso veniebat anhelitus ore 10.664. metaque erat longe. Tum denique de tribus unum 10.665. fetibus arboreis proles Neptunia misit. 10.666. Obstipuit virgo, nitidique cupidine pomi 10.667. declinat cursus aurumque volubile tollit. 10.668. Praeterit Hippomenes! Resot spectacula plausu. 10.669. Illa moram celeri cessataque tempora cursu 10.670. corrigit atque iterum iuvenem post terga relinquit. 10.671. Et rursus pomi iactu remorata secundi 10.672. consequitur transitque virum. Pars ultima cursus 10.673. restabat; “nunc” inquit “ades, dea muneris auctor!” 10.674. inque latus campi, quo tardius illa rediret 10.675. iecit ab obliquo nitidum iuvenaliter aurum. 10.676. An peteret, virgo visa est dubitare: coegi 10.677. tollere et adieci sublato pondera malo 10.678. impediique oneris pariter gravitate moraque. 10.679. Neve meus sermo cursu sit tardior ipso 10.680. praeterita est virgo: duxit sua praemia victor. 10.681. Dige, cui grates ageret, cui turis honorem 10.682. ferret, Adoni, fui? — nec grates inmemor egit 10.683. nec mihi tura dedit. Subitam convertor in iram; 10.684. contemptuque dolens, ne sim spernenda futuris 10.685. exemplo caveo meque ipsa exhortor in ambos. 10.686. Templa, deum Matri quae quondam clarus Echion 10.687. fecerat ex voto, nemorosis abdita silvis 10.688. transibant, et iter longum requiescere suasit. 10.689. Illic concubitus intempestiva cupido 10.690. occupat Hippomenen, a numine concita nostro. 10.691. Luminis exigui fuerat prope templa recessus 10.692. speluncae similis, nativo pumice tectus 10.693. religione sacer prisca, quo multa sacerdos 10.694. lignea contulerat veterum simulacra deorum. 10.695. Hunc init et vetito temerat sacraria probro. 10.696. Sacra retorserunt oculos; turritaque Mater 10.697. an Stygia sontes dubitavit mergeret unda. 10.698. Poena levis visa est. Ergo modo levia fulvae 10.699. colla iubae velant, digiti curvantur in ungues 10.700. ex umeris armi fiunt, in pectora totum 10.701. pondus abit, summae cauda verruntur harenae. 10.702. Iram vultus habet, pro verbis murmura reddunt 10.703. pro thalamis celebrant silvas: aliisque timendi 10.704. dente premunt domito Cybeleia frena leones. 10.705. Hos tu, care mihi, cumque his genus omne ferarum 10.706. quod non terga fugae, sed pugnae pectora praebet 10.707. effuge, ne virtus tua sit damnosa duobus.” 10.708. Illa quidem monuit iunctisque per aera cygnis 10.709. carpit iter: sed stat monitis contraria virtus. 10.710. Forte suem latebris vestigia certa secuti 10.711. excivere canes, silvisque exire parantem 10.712. fixerat obliquo iuvenis Cinyreius ictu. 10.713. Protinus excussit pando venabula rostro 10.714. sanguine tincta suo trepidumque et tuta petentem 10.715. trux aper insequitur totosque sub inguine dentes 10.716. abdidit et fulva moribundum stravit harena. 10.717. Vecta levi curru medias Cytherea per auras 10.718. Cypron olorinis nondum pervenerat alis 10.719. agnovit longe gemitum morientis et albas 10.720. flexit aves illuc. Utque aethere vidit ab alto 10.721. exanimem inque suo iactantem sanguine corpus 10.722. desiluit pariterque sinum pariterque capillos 10.723. rupit et indignis percussit pectora palmis. 10.724. Questaque cum fatis “at non tamen omnia vestri 10.725. iuris erunt” dixit. “Luctus monimenta manebunt 10.726. semper, Adoni, mei, repetitaque mortis imago 10.727. annua plangoris peraget simulamina nostri. 10.728. At cruor in florem mutabitur. An tibi quondam 10.729. femineos artus in olentes vertere mentas 10.730. Persephone, licuit: nobis Cinyreius heros 10.731. invidiae mutatus erit ?” — Sic fata cruorem 10.732. nectare odorato sparsit: qui tactus ab illo 10.733. intumuit sic ut fulvo perlucida caeno 10.734. surgere bulla solet. Nec plena longior hora 10.735. facta mora est, cum flos de sanguine concolor ortus 10.736. qualem, quae lento celant sub cortice granum 10.737. punica ferre solent. Brevis est tamen usus in illo: 10.738. namque male haerentem et nimia levitate caducum 10.739. excutiunt idem, qui praestant nomina, venti.” | 10.15. delighted Naiads wandered with the bride 10.16. a serpent struck its venomed tooth in her 10.17. oft ankle— and she died.—After the bard 10.18. of Rhodope had mourned, and filled the high 10.19. of heaven with the moans of his lament 10.20. determined also the dark underworld 10.21. hould recognize the misery of death 10.22. he dared descend by the Taenarian gate 10.23. down to the gloomy Styx. And there passed through 10.24. pale-glimmering phantoms, and the ghost 10.25. escaped from sepulchres, until he found 10.26. Persephone and Pluto, master-king 10.27. of shadow realms below: and then began 10.28. to strike his tuneful lyre, to which he sang:— 10.30. the earth! this shadowy underworld, to which 10.31. all mortals must descend! If it can be 10.32. called lawful, and if you will suffer speech 10.33. of strict truth (all the winding way 10.34. of Falsity forbidden) I come not 10.35. down here because of curiosity 10.36. to see the glooms of Tartarus and have 10.37. no thought to bind or strangle the three neck 10.38. of the Medusan Monster, vile with snakes. 10.39. But I have come, because my darling wife 10.40. tepped on a viper that sent through her vein 10.147. the Heliads' poplar, and the lofty-branched 10.148. deep mast-tree, the soft linden and the beech 10.149. the brittle hazel, and the virgin laurel-tree 10.150. the ash for strong spears, the smooth silver-fir 10.151. the flex bent with acorns and the plane 10.152. the various tinted maple and with those 10.153. the lotus and green willows from their streams 10.154. evergreen box and slender tamarisks 10.155. rich myrtles of two colors and the tine 10.156. bending with green-blue berries: and you, too 10.157. the pliant-footed ivy, came along 10.158. with tendril-branching grape-vines, and the elm 10.159. all covered with twist-vines, the mountain-ash 10.160. pitch-trees and arbute-trees of blushing fruit 10.161. the bending-palm prized after victories 10.162. the bare-trunk pine of tufted foliage 10.163. bristled upon the top, a pleasant sight 10.164. delightful to the Mother of the Gods; 10.165. ince Attis dear to Cybele, exchanged 10.166. his human form which hardened in that tree. 10.167. In all the throng the cone-shaped cypress came; 10.168. a tree now, it was changed from a dear youth 10.169. loved by the god who strings the lyre and bow. 10.170. For there was at one time, a mighty stag 10.171. held sacred by those nymphs who haunt the field 10.172. Carthaean. His great antlers spread so wide 10.173. they gave an ample shade to his own head. 10.174. Those antlers shone with gold: from his smooth throat 10.175. a necklace, studded with a wealth of gems 10.176. hung down to his strong shoulders—beautiful. 10.177. A silver boss, fastened with little thongs 10.178. played on his forehead, worn there from his birth; 10.179. and pendants from both ears, of gleaming pearls 10.180. adorned his hollow temples. Free of fear 10.181. and now no longer shy, frequenting home 10.182. of men he knew, he offered his soft neck 10.183. even to strangers for their petting hands. 10.185. by you, O Cyparissus, fairest youth 10.186. of all the lads of Cea. It was you 10.187. who led the pet stag to fresh pasturage 10.188. and to the waters of the clearest spring. 10.189. Sometimes you wove bright garlands for his horns 10.190. and sometimes, like a horseman on his back 10.191. now here now there, you guided his soft mouth 10.192. with purple reins. It was upon a summer day 10.193. at high noon when the Crab, of spreading claws 10.194. loving the sea-shore, almost burnt beneath 10.195. the sun's hot burning rays; and the pet stag 10.196. was then reclining on the grassy earth 10.197. and, wearied of all action, found relief 10.198. under the cool shade of the forest trees; 10.199. that as he lay there Cyparissus pierced 10.200. him with a javelin: and although it wa 10.201. quite accidental, when the shocked youth saw 10.202. his loved stag dying from the cruel wound 10.203. he could not bear it, and resolved on death. 10.204. What did not Phoebus say to comfort him? 10.205. He cautioned him to hold his grief in check 10.206. consistent with the cause. But still the lad 10.207. lamented, and with groans implored the God 10.208. that he might mourn forever. His life force 10.209. exhausted by long weeping, now his limb 10.210. began to take a green tint, and his hair 10.211. which overhung his snow-white brow, turned up 10.212. into a bristling crest; and he became 10.213. a stiff tree with a slender top and pointed 10.214. up to the starry heavens. And the God 10.215. groaning with sorrow, said; “You shall be mourned 10.216. incerely by me, surely as you mourn 10.217. for others, and forever you shall stand 10.218. in grief, where others grieve.” 10.219. Such was the grove 10.220. by Orpheus drawn together; and he sat 10.221. urrounded by assembled animals 10.222. and many strange Birds. When he tried the chord 10.223. by touching with his thumb, and was convinced 10.224. the notes were all in harmony, although 10.225. attuned to various melody, he raised 10.226. his voice and sang: 10.228. from Jove inspire my song—for all things yield 10.229. to the unequalled sway of Jove—oh, I 10.230. have sung so often Jupiter 's great power 10.231. before this day, and in a wilder strain 10.232. I've sung the giants and victorious bolt 10.233. hurled on Phlegraean plains. But now I need 10.234. the gentler touch; for I would sing of boys 10.235. the favorites of Gods, and even of maid 10.236. who had to pay the penalty of wrong.” 10.237. The king of all the Gods once burned with love 10.238. for Ganymede of Phrygia . He found 10.239. a shape more pleasing even than his own. 10.240. Jove would not take the form of any bird 10.241. except the eagle's, able to sustain 10.242. the weight of his own thunderbolts. Without 10.243. delay, Jove on fictitious eagle wings 10.244. tole and flew off with that loved Trojan boy: 10.245. who even to this day, against the will 10.246. of Juno, mingles nectar in the cup 10.247. of his protector, mighty Jupiter . 10.248. You also, Hyacinthus, would have been 10.249. et in the sky! if Phoebus had been given 10.250. time which the cruel fates denied for you. 10.251. But in a way you are immortal too. 10.252. Though you have died. Always when warm spring 10.253. drives winter out, and Aries (the Ram) 10.254. ucceeds to Pisces (watery Fish), you rise 10.255. and blossom on the green turf. And the love 10.256. my father had for you was deeper than he felt 10.257. for others. Delphi center of the world 10.258. had no presiding guardian, while the God 10.259. frequented the Eurotas and the land 10.260. of Sparta , never fortified with walls. 10.261. His zither and his bow no longer fill 10.262. his eager mind and now without a thought 10.263. of dignity, he carried nets and held 10.264. the dogs in leash, and did not hesitate 10.265. to go with Hyacinthus on the rough 10.266. teep mountain ridges; and by all of such 10.267. associations, his love was increased. 10.269. the coming and the banished night, and stood 10.270. at equal distance from those two extremes. 10.271. Then, when the youth and Phoebus were well stripped 10.272. and gleaming with rich olive oil, they tried 10.273. a friendly contest with the discus. First 10.274. Phoebus, well-poised, sent it awhirl through air 10.275. and cleft the clouds beyond with its broad weight; 10.276. from which at length it fell down to the earth 10.277. a certain evidence of strength and skill. 10.278. Heedless of danger Hyacinthus rushed 10.279. for eager glory of the game, resolved 10.280. to get the discus. But it bounded back 10.281. from off the hard earth, and struck full against 10.282. your face, O Hyacinthus! Deadly pale 10.283. the God's face went — as pallid as the boy's. 10.284. With care he lifted the sad huddled form. 10.286. and next endeavors to attend your wound 10.287. and stay your parting soul with healing herbs. 10.288. His skill is no advantage, for the wound 10.289. is past all art of cure. As if someone 10.290. when in a garden, breaks off violets 10.291. poppies, or lilies hung from golden stems 10.292. then drooping they must hang their withered heads 10.293. and gaze down towards the earth beneath them; so 10.294. the dying boy's face droops, and his bent neck 10.295. a burden to itself, falls back upon 10.296. his shoulder: “You are fallen in your prime 10.297. defrauded of your youth, O Hyacinthus!” 10.298. Moaned Apollo. “I can see in your sad wound 10.299. my own guilt, and you are my cause of grief 10.300. and self-reproach. My own hand gave you death 10.301. unmerited — I only can be charged 10.302. with your destruction.—What have I done wrong? 10.303. Can it be called a fault to play with you? 10.304. Should loving you be called a fault? And oh 10.305. that I might now give up my life for you! 10.306. Or die with you! But since our destinie 10.307. prevent us you shall always be with me 10.308. and you shall dwell upon my care-filled lips. 10.309. The lyre struck by my hand, and my true song 10.310. will always celebrate you. A new flower 10.311. you shall arise, with markings on your petals 10.312. close imitation of my constant moans: 10.313. and there shall come another to be linked 10.314. with this new flower, a valiant hero shall 10.315. be known by the same marks upon its petals.” 10.317. with his truth-telling lips, behold the blood 10.318. of Hyacinthus, which had poured out on 10.319. the ground beside him and there stained the grass 10.320. was changed from blood; and in its place a flower 10.321. more beautiful than Tyrian dye, sprang up. 10.322. It almost seemed a lily, were it not 10.323. that one was purple and the other white. 10.325. For it was he who worked the miracle 10.326. of his sad words inscribed on flower leaves. 10.327. These letters AI, AI, are inscribed 10.328. on them. And Sparta certainly is proud 10.329. to honor Hyacinthus as her son; 10.330. and his loved fame endures; and every year 10.331. they celebrate his solemn festival. 10.332. If you should ask Amathus , which is rich 10.333. in metals, how can she rejoice and take 10.334. a pride in deeds of her Propoetides; 10.335. he would disclaim it and repudiate 10.336. them all, as well as those of transformed men 10.337. whose foreheads were deformed by two rough horns 10.338. from which their name Cerastae. By their gate 10.339. an altar unto Jove stood. If by chance 10.340. a stranger, not informed of their dark crimes 10.341. had seen the horrid altar smeared with blood 10.342. he would suppose that suckling calves and sheep 10.343. of Amathus , were sacrificed thereon— 10.344. it was in fact the blood of slaughtered guests! 10.346. of sacrifice, was ready to desert 10.347. her cities and her snake-infested plains; 10.348. “But how,” said she, “have their delightful land 10.349. together with my well built cities sinned? 10.350. What crime have they done?—Those inhabitant 10.351. hould pay the penalty of their own crime 10.352. by exile or by death; or it may be 10.353. a middle course, between exile and death; 10.354. and what can that be, but the punishment 10.355. of a changed form?” And while she hesitates 10.356. in various thoughts of what form they should take 10.357. her eyes by chance, observed their horns 10.358. and that decided her; such horns could well 10.359. be on them after any change occurred 10.360. and she transformed their big and brutal bodie 10.361. to savage bulls. 10.363. the obscene Propoetides dared to deny 10.364. divinity of Venus, for which fault 10.365. (and it is common fame) they were the first 10.366. to criminate their bodies, through the wrath 10.367. of Venus; and so blushing shame was lost 10.368. white blood, in their bad faces grew so fast 10.369. o hard, it was no wonder they were turned 10.370. with small change into hard and lifeless stones. 10.371. Pygmalion saw these women waste their live 10.372. in wretched shame, and critical of fault 10.373. which nature had so deeply planted through 10.374. their female hearts, he lived in preference 10.375. for many years unmarried.—But while he 10.376. was single, with consummate skill, he carved 10.377. a statue out of snow-white ivory 10.378. and gave to it exquisite beauty, which 10.379. no woman of the world has ever equalled: 10.380. he was so beautiful, he fell in love 10.381. with his creation. It appeared in truth 10.382. a perfect virgin with the grace of life 10.383. but in the expression of such modesty 10.384. all motion was restrained—and so his art 10.385. concealed his art. Pygmalion gazed, inflamed 10.386. with love and admiration for the form 10.387. in semblance of a woman, he had carved. 10.389. and wonders if it can be ivory 10.390. because it seems to him more truly flesh. — 10.391. his mind refusing to conceive of it 10.392. as ivory, he kisses it and feel 10.393. his kisses are returned. And speaking love 10.394. caresses it with loving hands that seem 10.395. to make an impress, on the parts they touch 10.396. o real that he fears he then may bruise 10.397. her by his eager pressing. Softest tone 10.398. are used each time he speaks to her. He bring 10.399. to her such presents as are surely prized 10.400. by sweet girls; such as smooth round pebbles, shells 10.401. and birds, and fragrant flowers of thousand tints 10.402. lilies, and painted balls, and amber tear 10.403. of Heliads, which distill from far off trees.— 10.404. he drapes her in rich clothing and in gems: 10.405. rings on her fingers, a rich necklace round 10.406. her neck, pearl pendants on her graceful ears; 10.407. and golden ornaments adorn her breast. 10.408. All these are beautiful—and she appear 10.409. most lovable, if carefully attired,— 10.410. or perfect as a statue, unadorned. 10.412. with coverlets of Tyrian purple dye 10.413. and naming her the consort of his couch 10.414. lays her reclining head on the most soft 10.415. and downy pillows, trusting she could feel. 10.417. all Cyprus , now had come, and throngs were there 10.418. to celebrate. Heifers with spreading horns 10.419. all gold-tipped, fell when given the stroke of death 10.420. upon their snow-white necks; and frankincense 10.421. was smoking on the altars. There, intent 10.422. Pygmalion stood before an altar, when 10.423. his offering had been made; and although he 10.424. feared the result, he prayed: “If it is true 10.425. O Gods, that you can give all things, I pray 10.426. to have as my wife—” but, he did not dare 10.427. to add “my ivory statue-maid,” and said 10.428. “One like my ivory—.” Golden Venus heard 10.429. for she was present at her festival 10.430. and she knew clearly what the prayer had meant. 10.431. She gave a sign that her Divinity 10.432. favored his plea: three times the flame leaped high 10.433. and brightly in the air. 10.435. he went directly to his image-maid 10.436. bent over her, and kissed her many times 10.437. while she was on her couch; and as he kissed 10.438. he seemed to gather some warmth from his lips. 10.439. Again he kissed her; and he felt her breast; 10.440. the ivory seemed to soften at the touch 10.441. and its firm texture yielded to his hand 10.442. as honey-wax of Mount Hymettus turn 10.443. to many shapes when handled in the sun 10.444. and surely softens from each gentle touch. 10.446. while fearful there is some mistake, again 10.447. and yet again, gives trial to his hope 10.448. by touching with his hand. It must be flesh! 10.449. The veins pulsate beneath the careful test 10.450. of his directed finger. Then, indeed 10.451. the astonished hero poured out lavish thank 10.452. to Venus; pressing with his raptured lip 10.453. his statue's lips. Now real, true to life— 10.454. the maiden felt the kisses given to her 10.455. and blushing, lifted up her timid eyes 10.456. o that she saw the light and sky above 10.457. as well as her rapt lover while he leaned 10.458. gazing beside her—and all this at once— 10.459. the goddess graced the marriage she had willed 10.460. and when nine times a crescent moon had changed 10.461. increasing to the full, the statue-bride 10.462. gave birth to her dear daughter Paphos . From 10.463. which famed event the island takes its name. 10.464. The royal Cinyras was sprung from her; 10.465. and if he had been father of no child 10.466. might well have been accounted fortunate— 10.467. but I must sing of horrible events— 10.468. avoid it daughters! Parents! shun this tale! 10.469. But if my verse has charmed your thought 10.470. do not give me such credit in this part; 10.471. convince yourself it cannot be true life; 10.472. or, if against my wish you hear and must 10.473. believe it, then be sure to notice how 10.474. uch wickedness gets certain punishment. 10.476. as this to happen, I congratulate 10.477. Ismarian people and all Thrace as well 10.478. and I congratulate this nation, which 10.479. we know is far away from the land where 10.480. this vile abomination did occur. 10.482. in balsam, cinnamon, and costum sweet 10.483. for ointment, frankincense distilled from trees 10.484. with many flowers besides. All this large wealth 10.485. combined could never compensate the land 10.486. for this detestable, one crime: even though 10.487. the new Myrrh-Tree advanced on that rich soil. 10.489. an injury to Myrrha, and denie 10.490. his torches ever could have urged her crime.— 10.491. one of the three bad sisters kindled this 10.492. with fire brand from the Styx, and poisoned you 10.493. with swollen vipers.—It is criminal 10.494. to hate a parent, but love such as her 10.495. is certainly more criminal than hate. 10.497. you now in marriage, and young men throughout 10.498. the Orient are vying for your hand. 10.499. Choose, Myrrha one from all of these for your 10.500. good husband; but exclude from such a thought 10.501. your father only. She indeed is quite 10.502. aware, and struggles bitterly against 10.503. her vile desires, and argues in her heart:— 10.505. I pray for aid, I pray to Natural Love! 10.506. Ah, may the sacred rights of parents keep 10.507. this vile desire from me, defend me from 10.508. a crime so great—If it indeed is crime. 10.509. I am not sure it is—I have not heard 10.510. that any god or written law condemn 10.511. the union of a parent and his child. 10.512. All animals will mate as they desire— 10.513. a heifer may endure her sire, and who 10.514. condemns it? And the happy stud is not 10.515. refused by his mare-daughters: the he-goat 10.516. consorts unthought-of with the flock of which 10.517. he is the father; and the birds conceive 10.518. of those from whom they were themselves begot. 10.519. Happy are they who have such privilege! 10.520. Maligt men have given spiteful laws; 10.521. and what is right to Nature is decreed 10.522. unnatural, by jealous laws of men. 10.524. in which the mother marries her own son; 10.525. the daughter takes her father; and by this 10.526. the love kind Nature gives them is increased 10.527. into a double bond.—Ah wretched me! 10.528. Why was it not my fortune to be born 10.529. in that love-blessed land? I must abide 10.530. depressed by my misfortunes, in this place. 10.532. Let me forget to think of lawless flame. 10.533. My father is most worthy of my love 10.534. but only as a father.—If I were 10.535. not born the daughter of great Cinyras 10.536. I might be joined to him; but, as it stands 10.537. because he is mine he is never mine; 10.538. because near to me he is far from me. 10.540. but strangers to each other; for I then 10.541. could wish to go, and leave my native land 10.542. and so escape temptation to this crime: 10.543. but my unhappy passion holds me here 10.544. that I may see Cinyras face to face 10.545. and touch him, talk with him and even kiss him— 10.546. the best, if nothing else can be allowed. 10.548. depraved? Think of the many sacred tie 10.549. and loved names, you are dragging to the mire: 10.550. the rival of your mother, will you be 10.551. the mistress of your father, and be named 10.552. the sister of your son, and make yourself 10.553. the mother of your brother? And will you 10.554. not dread the sisters with black snakes for hair. 10.555. Whom guilty creatures, such as you, can see 10.556. brandish relentless flames before their eye 10.557. and faces? While your body has not sinned 10.558. you must not let sin creep into your heart 10.559. and violate great Nature's law with your 10.560. unlawful rovings. If you had the right 10.561. to long for his endearment, it could not 10.562. be possible. He is a virtuous man 10.563. and is regardful of the moral law— 10.564. oh how I wish my passion could be his!” 10.566. but Cinyras, her father, who was urged 10.567. by such a throng of suitors for her hand 10.568. that he could make no choice, at last inquired 10.569. of her, so she might make her heart's wish known. 10.570. And as he named them over, asked her which 10.571. he fixed her gaze upon her father's face 10.572. in doubtful agony what she could say 10.573. while hot tears filled her eyes. Her father, sure 10.574. it all was of a virginal alarm 10.575. as he is telling her she need not weep 10.576. dries her wet cheeks and kisses her sweet lips. 10.577. Too much delighted with his gentle word 10.578. and kind endearments, Myrrha, when he asked 10.579. again, which one might be her husband, said 10.580. “The one just like yourself.”, And he replied 10.581. not understanding what her heart would say 10.582. “You answer as a loving-daughter should.” 10.583. When she heard “loving-daughter” said, the girl 10.584. too conscious of her guilt, looked on the ground. 10.586. the world-care of all mortals, but of her 10.587. who, sleepless through the night, burnt in the flame 10.588. of her misplaced affection. First despair 10.589. compels her to abandon every hope 10.590. and then she changes and resolves to try; 10.591. and so she wavers from desire to shame 10.592. for she could not adhere to any plan. 10.594. is chopped until the last blow has been struck 10.595. then sways and threatens danger to all sides; 10.596. o does her weak mind, cut with many blows 10.597. waver unsteadily—this way and that— 10.598. and turning back and forth it finds no rest 10.599. from passion, save the rest that lies in death. 10.601. Resolved to hang herself, she sat upright; 10.602. then, as she tied her girdle to a beam 10.603. he said, “Farewell, beloved Cinyras 10.604. and may you know the cause of my sad death.” 10.605. And while she spoke those words, her fingers fixed 10.606. the noosed rope close around her death-pale neck. 10.608. was heard by her attentive nurse who watched 10.609. outside the room. And, faithful as of old 10.610. he opened the shut door. But, when she saw 10.611. the frightful preparations made for death 10.612. the odd nurse screamed and beat and tore her breast 10.613. then seized and snatched the rope from Myrrha's neck; 10.614. and after she had torn the noose apart 10.615. at last she had the time to weep and time 10.616. while she embraced the girl, to ask her why 10.617. the halter had been fastened round her neck. 10.618. The girl in stubborn silence only fixed 10.619. her eyes upon the ground—sad that her first 10.620. attempt at death, because too slow, was foiled. 10.621. The old nurse-woman urged and urged, and showed 10.622. her gray hair and her withered breasts, and begged 10.623. her by the memory of her cradle days 10.624. and baby nourishment, to hide no more 10.625. from her long-trusted nurse what caused her grief. 10.626. The girl turned from her questions with a sigh. 10.627. The nurse, still more determined to know all 10.628. promised fidelity and her best aid— 10.630. my old age offers means for your relief: 10.631. if it be frantic passion, I have charm 10.632. and healing herbs; or, if an evil spell 10.633. was worked on you by someone, you shall be 10.634. cured to your perfect self by magic rites; 10.635. or, if your actions have enraged the Gods 10.636. a sacrifice will satisfy their wrath. 10.637. What else could be the cause? Your family 10.638. and you are prosperous—your mother dear 10.639. and your loved father are alive and well.” 10.640. And, when she heard her say the name of father 10.641. a sigh heaved up from her distracted heart. 10.643. conceive such evil in the girl's sick heart; 10.644. and yet she had a feeling it must be 10.645. only a love affair could cause the crime: 10.646. and with persistent purpose begged the cause. 10.647. She pressed the weeping girl against her breast; 10.648. and as she held her in her feeble arms 10.649. he said, “Sweet heart, I know you are in love: 10.650. in this affair I am entirely your 10.651. for your good service, you must have no fear 10.652. your father cannot learn of it from me.,” 10.654. and with her face deep-buried in a couch 10.655. obbed out, “Go from me or stop asking me 10.656. my cause of grief—it is a crime of shame— 10.657. I cannot tell it!” Horrified the nurse 10.658. tretched forth her trembling hands, palsied 10.659. with age and fear. She fell down at the feet 10.660. of her loved foster-child, and coaxing her 10.661. and frightening her, she threatened to disclose 10.662. her knowledge of the halter and of what 10.663. he knew of her attempted suicide; 10.664. and after all was said, she gave her word 10.665. to help the girl, when she had given to her 10.666. a true confession of her sad heart-love. 10.668. it, weeping, on the bosom of her nurse. 10.669. She tried so often to confess, and just 10.670. as often checked her words, her shamed face hid 10.671. deep in her garment: “Oh”, at last she groans 10.672. “O mother blessed in your husband—oh!” 10.673. Only that much she said and groaned. The nurse 10.674. felt a cold horror stealing through her heart 10.675. and frame, for she now understood it all. 10.676. And her white hair stood bristling on her head 10.677. while with the utmost care of love and art 10.678. he strove to use appropriate words and deeds 10.679. to banish the mad passion of the girl. 10.680. Though Myrrha knew that she was truly warned 10.681. he was resolved to die, unless she could 10.682. obtain the object of her wicked love. 10.683. The nurse gave way at last as in defeat 10.684. and said, “Live and enjoy—” but did not dare 10.685. to say, “your father”, did not finish, though 10.686. he promised and confirmed it with an oath. 10.688. the annual festival of Ceres . Then 10.689. all robed in decent garments of snow-white 10.690. they bring garlands of precious wheat, which are 10.691. first fruits of worship; and for nine nights they 10.692. must count forbidden every act of love 10.693. and shun the touch of man. And in that throng 10.694. Cenchreis, the king's wife, with constant care 10.695. attended every secret rite: and so 10.696. while the king's bed was lacking his true wife 10.697. one of those nights,—King Cinyras was drunk 10.698. with too much wine,—the scheming nurse informed 10.699. him of a girl most beautiful, whose love 10.700. for him was passionate; in a false tale 10.701. he pictured a true passion. — When he asked 10.702. the maiden's age, she answered, “Just the same 10.703. as Myrrha's.” Bidden by the king to go 10.704. and fetch her, the officious old nurse, when 10.705. he found the girl, cried out; “Rejoice, my dear 10.706. we have contrived it!” The unhappy girl 10.707. could not feel genuine joy in her amazed 10.708. and startled body. Her dazed mind was filled 10.709. with strange forebodings; but she did believe 10.710. her heart was joyful.—Great excitement filled 10.711. her wrecked heart with such inconsistencies. 10.713. between the Bears, Bootes turned his wain 10.714. down to the west, and the guilty Myrrha turn 10.715. to her enormity. The golden moon 10.716. flies from the heaven, and black clouds cover 10.717. the hiding stars and Night has lost her fires. 10.718. The first to hide were stars of Icaru 10.719. and of Erigone, in hallowed love 10.720. devoted to her father. Myrrha thrice 10.721. was warned by omen of her stumbling foot; 10.722. the funeral screech-owl also warned her thrice 10.723. with dismal cry; yet Myrrha onward goes. 10.724. It seems to her the black night lessens shame. 10.725. She holds fast to her nurse with her left hand 10.726. and with the other hand gropes through the dark. 10.727. And now they go until she finds the door. 10.728. Now at the threshold of her father's room 10.729. he softly pushes back the door, her nurse 10.730. takes her within. The girl's knees trembling sink 10.731. beneath her. Her drawn bloodless face has lost 10.732. its color, and while she moves to the crime 10.733. bad courage goes from her until afraid 10.734. of her bold effort, she would gladly turn 10.735. unrecognized. But as she hesitates 10.736. the aged crone still holds her by the hand; 10.737. and leading her up to the high bed there 10.738. delivering Myrrha, says, “Now Cinyras 10.739. you take her, she is yours;” and leaves the pair 10. Veiled in a saffron mantle, through the air,unmeasured, after the strange wedding, Hymen,departed swiftly for Ciconian land;,regardless and not listening to the voice,of tuneful Orpheus. Truly Hymen there,was present during the festivities,of Orpheus and Eurydice, but gave,no happy omen, neither hallowed words,nor joyful glances; and the torch he held,would only sputter, fill the eyes with smoke,,and cause no blaze while waving. The result,of that sad wedding, proved more terrible,than such foreboding fates.,delighted Naiads wandered with the bride,,a serpent struck its venomed tooth in her,oft ankle— and she died.—After the bard,of Rhodope had mourned, and filled the highs,of heaven with the moans of his lament,,determined also the dark underworld,hould recognize the misery of death,,he dared descend by the Taenarian gate,down to the gloomy Styx. And there passed through,pale-glimmering phantoms, and the ghosts,escaped from sepulchres, until he found,Persephone and Pluto, master-king,of shadow realms below: and then began,to strike his tuneful lyre, to which he sang:—,the earth! this shadowy underworld, to which,all mortals must descend! If it can be,called lawful, and if you will suffer speech,of strict truth (all the winding ways,of Falsity forbidden) I come not,down here because of curiosity,to see the glooms of Tartarus and have,no thought to bind or strangle the three necks,of the Medusan Monster, vile with snakes.,But I have come, because my darling wife,tepped on a viper that sent through her veins,death-poison, cutting off her coming years.,deny my effort—but the god of Love,has conquered me—a god so kindly known,in all the upper world. We are not sure,he can be known so well in this deep world,,but have good reason to conjecture he,is not unknown here, and if old report,almost forgotten, that you stole your wife,is not a fiction, Love united you,the same as others. By this Place of Fear,this huge void and these vast and silent realms,,renew the life-thread of Eurydice.,it happens we may tarry a short while,,lowly or swiftly we must go to one,abode; and it will be our final home.,Long and tenaciously you will possess,unquestioned mastery of the human race.,She also shall be yours to rule, when full,of age she shall have lived the days of her,allotted years. So I ask of you,possession of her few days as a boon.,But if the fates deny to me this prayer,for my true wife, my constant mind must hold,me always so that I can not return—,and you may triumph in the death of two!”,of his sweet lyre, the bloodless ghosts themselves,were weeping, and the anxious Tantalus,topped clutching at return-flow of the wave,,Ixion's twisting wheel stood wonder-bound;,and Tityus' liver for a while escaped,the vultures, and the listening Belides,forgot their sieve-like bowls and even you,,O Sisyphus! sat idly on your rock!,of Orpheus, for the first and only time,the hard cheeks of the fierce Eumenides,were wet with tears: nor could the royal queen,,nor he who rules the lower world deny,the prayer of Orpheus; so they called to them,Eurydice, who still was held among,the new-arriving shades, and she obeyed,the call by walking to them with slow steps,,yet halting from her wound. So Orpheus then,received his wife; and Pluto told him he,might now ascend from these Avernian vales,up to the light, with his Eurydice;,but, if he turned his eyes to look at her,,the gift of her delivery would be lost.,and gloomy path of darkness. There remained,but little more to climb till they would touch,earth's surface, when in fear he might again,lose her, and anxious for another look,at her, he turned his eyes so he could gaze,upon her. Instantly she slipped away.,He stretched out to her his despairing arms,,eager to rescue her, or feel her form,,but could hold nothing save the yielding air.,Dying the second time, she could not say,a word of censure of her husband's fault;,what had she to complain of — his great love?,Her last word spoken was, “Farewell!” which he,could barely hear, and with no further sound,he fell from him again to Hades.—Struck,quite senseless by this double death of his,dear wife, he was as fixed from motion as,the frightened one who saw the triple necks,of Cerberus, that dog whose middle neck,was chained. The sight filled him with terror he,had no escape from, until petrified,to stone; or like Olenos, changed to stone,,because he fastened on himself the guilt,of his wife. O unfortunate Lethaea!,Too boastful of your beauty, you and he,,united once in love, are now two stones,upon the mountain Ida, moist with springs.,to help him cross the River Styx again,,but was denied the very hope of death.,Seven days he sat upon Death's river bank,,in squalid misery and without all food—,nourished by grief, anxiety, and tears—,complaining that the Gods of Erebus,were pitiless, at last he wandered back,,until he came to lofty Rhodope,and Haemus , beaten by the strong north wind.,to watery Pisces, and in all that time,,hunning all women, Orpheus still believed,his love-pledge was forever. So he kept,away from women, though so many grieved,,because he took no notice of their love.,The only friendship he enjoyed was given,to the young men of Thrace .,There was a hill,which rose up to a level plateau, high,and beautiful with green grass; and there was,not any shade for comfort on the top,and there on that luxuriant grass the bard,,while heaven-inspired reclined, and struck,uch harmonies on his sweet lyre that shade,most grateful to the hill was spread around.,Strong trees came up there—the Chaonian oak,the Heliads' poplar, and the lofty-branched,deep mast-tree, the soft linden and the beech,,the brittle hazel, and the virgin laurel-tree,,the ash for strong spears, the smooth silver-fir,,the flex bent with acorns and the plane,,the various tinted maple and with those,,the lotus and green willows from their streams,,evergreen box and slender tamarisks,,rich myrtles of two colors and the tine,,bending with green-blue berries: and you, too,,the pliant-footed ivy, came along,with tendril-branching grape-vines, and the elm,all covered with twist-vines, the mountain-ash,,pitch-trees and arbute-trees of blushing fruit,,the bending-palm prized after victories,,the bare-trunk pine of tufted foliage,,bristled upon the top, a pleasant sight,delightful to the Mother of the Gods;,ince Attis dear to Cybele, exchanged,his human form which hardened in that tree.,In all the throng the cone-shaped cypress came;,a tree now, it was changed from a dear youth,loved by the god who strings the lyre and bow.,For there was at one time, a mighty stag,held sacred by those nymphs who haunt the fields,Carthaean. His great antlers spread so wide,,they gave an ample shade to his own head.,Those antlers shone with gold: from his smooth throat,a necklace, studded with a wealth of gems,,hung down to his strong shoulders—beautiful.,A silver boss, fastened with little thongs,,played on his forehead, worn there from his birth;,and pendants from both ears, of gleaming pearls,,adorned his hollow temples. Free of fear,,and now no longer shy, frequenting homes,of men he knew, he offered his soft neck,even to strangers for their petting hands.,by you, O Cyparissus, fairest youth,of all the lads of Cea. It was you,who led the pet stag to fresh pasturage,,and to the waters of the clearest spring.,Sometimes you wove bright garlands for his horns,,and sometimes, like a horseman on his back,,now here now there, you guided his soft mouth,with purple reins. It was upon a summer day,,at high noon when the Crab, of spreading claws,,loving the sea-shore, almost burnt beneath,the sun's hot burning rays; and the pet stag,was then reclining on the grassy earth,and, wearied of all action, found relief,under the cool shade of the forest trees;,that as he lay there Cyparissus pierced,him with a javelin: and although it was,quite accidental, when the shocked youth saw,his loved stag dying from the cruel wound,he could not bear it, and resolved on death.,What did not Phoebus say to comfort him?,He cautioned him to hold his grief in check,,consistent with the cause. But still the lad,lamented, and with groans implored the Gods,that he might mourn forever. His life force,exhausted by long weeping, now his limbs,began to take a green tint, and his hair,,which overhung his snow-white brow, turned up,into a bristling crest; and he became,a stiff tree with a slender top and pointed,up to the starry heavens. And the God,,groaning with sorrow, said; “You shall be mourned,incerely by me, surely as you mourn,for others, and forever you shall stand,in grief, where others grieve.”,Such was the grove,by Orpheus drawn together; and he sat,urrounded by assembled animals,,and many strange Birds. When he tried the chords,by touching with his thumb, and was convinced,the notes were all in harmony, although,attuned to various melody, he raised,his voice and sang:,from Jove inspire my song—for all things yield,,to the unequalled sway of Jove—oh, I,have sung so often Jupiter 's great power,before this day, and in a wilder strain,,I've sung the giants and victorious bolts,hurled on Phlegraean plains. But now I need,the gentler touch; for I would sing of boys,,the favorites of Gods, and even of maids,who had to pay the penalty of wrong.”,The king of all the Gods once burned with love,for Ganymede of Phrygia . He found,a shape more pleasing even than his own.,Jove would not take the form of any bird,,except the eagle's, able to sustain,the weight of his own thunderbolts. Without,delay, Jove on fictitious eagle wings,,tole and flew off with that loved Trojan boy:,who even to this day, against the will,of Juno, mingles nectar in the cups,of his protector, mighty Jupiter .,You also, Hyacinthus, would have been,et in the sky! if Phoebus had been given,time which the cruel fates denied for you.,But in a way you are immortal too.,Though you have died. Always when warm spring,drives winter out, and Aries (the Ram),ucceeds to Pisces (watery Fish), you rise,and blossom on the green turf. And the love,my father had for you was deeper than he felt,for others. Delphi center of the world,,had no presiding guardian, while the God,frequented the Eurotas and the land,of Sparta , never fortified with walls.,His zither and his bow no longer fill,his eager mind and now without a thought,of dignity, he carried nets and held,the dogs in leash, and did not hesitate,to go with Hyacinthus on the rough,,teep mountain ridges; and by all of such,associations, his love was increased.,the coming and the banished night, and stood,at equal distance from those two extremes.,Then, when the youth and Phoebus were well stripped,,and gleaming with rich olive oil, they tried,a friendly contest with the discus. First,Phoebus, well-poised, sent it awhirl through air,,and cleft the clouds beyond with its broad weight;,from which at length it fell down to the earth,,a certain evidence of strength and skill.,Heedless of danger Hyacinthus rushed,for eager glory of the game, resolved,to get the discus. But it bounded back,from off the hard earth, and struck full against,your face, O Hyacinthus! Deadly pale,the God's face went — as pallid as the boy's.,With care he lifted the sad huddled form.,and next endeavors to attend your wound,,and stay your parting soul with healing herbs.,His skill is no advantage, for the wound,is past all art of cure. As if someone,,when in a garden, breaks off violets,,poppies, or lilies hung from golden stems,,then drooping they must hang their withered heads,,and gaze down towards the earth beneath them; so,,the dying boy's face droops, and his bent neck,,a burden to itself, falls back upon,his shoulder: “You are fallen in your prime,defrauded of your youth, O Hyacinthus!”,Moaned Apollo. “I can see in your sad wound,my own guilt, and you are my cause of grief,and self-reproach. My own hand gave you death,unmerited — I only can be charged,with your destruction.—What have I done wrong?,Can it be called a fault to play with you?,Should loving you be called a fault? And oh,,that I might now give up my life for you!,Or die with you! But since our destinies,prevent us you shall always be with me,,and you shall dwell upon my care-filled lips.,The lyre struck by my hand, and my true songs,will always celebrate you. A new flower,you shall arise, with markings on your petals,,close imitation of my constant moans:,and there shall come another to be linked,with this new flower, a valiant hero shall,be known by the same marks upon its petals.”,with his truth-telling lips, behold the blood,of Hyacinthus, which had poured out on,the ground beside him and there stained the grass,,was changed from blood; and in its place a flower,,more beautiful than Tyrian dye, sprang up.,It almost seemed a lily, were it not,that one was purple and the other white.,For it was he who worked the miracle,of his sad words inscribed on flower leaves.,These letters AI, AI, are inscribed,on them. And Sparta certainly is proud,to honor Hyacinthus as her son;,and his loved fame endures; and every year,they celebrate his solemn festival.,If you should ask Amathus , which is rich,in metals, how can she rejoice and take,a pride in deeds of her Propoetides;,he would disclaim it and repudiate,them all, as well as those of transformed men,,whose foreheads were deformed by two rough horns,,from which their name Cerastae. By their gates,an altar unto Jove stood. If by chance,a stranger, not informed of their dark crimes,,had seen the horrid altar smeared with blood,,he would suppose that suckling calves and sheep,of Amathus , were sacrificed thereon—,it was in fact the blood of slaughtered guests!,of sacrifice, was ready to desert,her cities and her snake-infested plains;,“But how,” said she, “have their delightful lands,together with my well built cities sinned?,What crime have they done?—Those inhabitants,hould pay the penalty of their own crimes,by exile or by death; or it may be,a middle course, between exile and death;,and what can that be, but the punishment,of a changed form?” And while she hesitates,,in various thoughts of what form they should take,,her eyes by chance, observed their horns,,and that decided her; such horns could well,be on them after any change occurred,,and she transformed their big and brutal bodies,to savage bulls.,the obscene Propoetides dared to deny,divinity of Venus, for which fault,,(and it is common fame) they were the first,to criminate their bodies, through the wrath,of Venus; and so blushing shame was lost,,white blood, in their bad faces grew so fast,,o hard, it was no wonder they were turned,with small change into hard and lifeless stones.,Pygmalion saw these women waste their lives,in wretched shame, and critical of faults,which nature had so deeply planted through,their female hearts, he lived in preference,,for many years unmarried.—But while he,was single, with consummate skill, he carved,a statue out of snow-white ivory,,and gave to it exquisite beauty, which,no woman of the world has ever equalled:,he was so beautiful, he fell in love,with his creation. It appeared in truth,a perfect virgin with the grace of life,,but in the expression of such modesty,all motion was restrained—and so his art,concealed his art. Pygmalion gazed, inflamed,with love and admiration for the form,,in semblance of a woman, he had carved.,and wonders if it can be ivory,,because it seems to him more truly flesh. —,his mind refusing to conceive of it,as ivory, he kisses it and feels,his kisses are returned. And speaking love,,caresses it with loving hands that seem,to make an impress, on the parts they touch,,o real that he fears he then may bruise,her by his eager pressing. Softest tones,are used each time he speaks to her. He brings,to her such presents as are surely prized,by sweet girls; such as smooth round pebbles, shells,,and birds, and fragrant flowers of thousand tints,,lilies, and painted balls, and amber tears,of Heliads, which distill from far off trees.—,he drapes her in rich clothing and in gems:,rings on her fingers, a rich necklace round,her neck, pearl pendants on her graceful ears;,and golden ornaments adorn her breast.,All these are beautiful—and she appears,most lovable, if carefully attired,—,or perfect as a statue, unadorned.,with coverlets of Tyrian purple dye,,and naming her the consort of his couch,,lays her reclining head on the most soft,and downy pillows, trusting she could feel.,all Cyprus , now had come, and throngs were there,to celebrate. Heifers with spreading horns,,all gold-tipped, fell when given the stroke of death,upon their snow-white necks; and frankincense,was smoking on the altars. There, intent,,Pygmalion stood before an altar, when,his offering had been made; and although he,feared the result, he prayed: “If it is true,,O Gods, that you can give all things, I pray,to have as my wife—” but, he did not dare,to add “my ivory statue-maid,” and said,,“One like my ivory—.” Golden Venus heard,,for she was present at her festival,,and she knew clearly what the prayer had meant.,She gave a sign that her Divinity,favored his plea: three times the flame leaped high,and brightly in the air.,he went directly to his image-maid,,bent over her, and kissed her many times,,while she was on her couch; and as he kissed,,he seemed to gather some warmth from his lips.,Again he kissed her; and he felt her breast;,the ivory seemed to soften at the touch,,and its firm texture yielded to his hand,,as honey-wax of Mount Hymettus turns,to many shapes when handled in the sun,,and surely softens from each gentle touch.,while fearful there is some mistake, again,and yet again, gives trial to his hopes,by touching with his hand. It must be flesh!,The veins pulsate beneath the careful test,of his directed finger. Then, indeed,,the astonished hero poured out lavish thanks,to Venus; pressing with his raptured lips,his statue's lips. Now real, true to life—,the maiden felt the kisses given to her,,and blushing, lifted up her timid eyes,,o that she saw the light and sky above,,as well as her rapt lover while he leaned,gazing beside her—and all this at once—,the goddess graced the marriage she had willed,,and when nine times a crescent moon had changed,,increasing to the full, the statue-bride,gave birth to her dear daughter Paphos . From,which famed event the island takes its name.,The royal Cinyras was sprung from her;,and if he had been father of no child,,might well have been accounted fortunate—,but I must sing of horrible events—,avoid it daughters! Parents! shun this tale!,But if my verse has charmed your thought,,do not give me such credit in this part;,convince yourself it cannot be true life;,or, if against my wish you hear and must,believe it, then be sure to notice how,uch wickedness gets certain punishment.,as this to happen, I congratulate,Ismarian people and all Thrace as well,,and I congratulate this nation, which,we know is far away from the land where,this vile abomination did occur.,in balsam, cinnamon, and costum sweet,for ointment, frankincense distilled from trees,,with many flowers besides. All this large wealth,combined could never compensate the land,for this detestable, one crime: even though,the new Myrrh-Tree advanced on that rich soil.,an injury to Myrrha, and denies,his torches ever could have urged her crime.—,one of the three bad sisters kindled this,,with fire brand from the Styx, and poisoned you,with swollen vipers.—It is criminal,to hate a parent, but love such as hers,is certainly more criminal than hate.,you now in marriage, and young men throughout,the Orient are vying for your hand.,Choose, Myrrha one from all of these for your,good husband; but exclude from such a thought,your father only. She indeed is quite,aware, and struggles bitterly against,her vile desires, and argues in her heart:—,I pray for aid, I pray to Natural Love!,Ah, may the sacred rights of parents keep,this vile desire from me, defend me from,a crime so great—If it indeed is crime.,I am not sure it is—I have not heard,that any god or written law condemns,the union of a parent and his child.,All animals will mate as they desire—,a heifer may endure her sire, and who,condemns it? And the happy stud is not,refused by his mare-daughters: the he-goat,consorts unthought-of with the flock of which,he is the father; and the birds conceive,of those from whom they were themselves begot.,Happy are they who have such privilege!,Maligt men have given spiteful laws;,and what is right to Nature is decreed,unnatural, by jealous laws of men.,in which the mother marries her own son;,the daughter takes her father; and by this,,the love kind Nature gives them is increased,into a double bond.—Ah wretched me!,Why was it not my fortune to be born,in that love-blessed land? I must abide,,depressed by my misfortunes, in this place.,Let me forget to think of lawless flame.,My father is most worthy of my love,,but only as a father.—If I were,not born the daughter of great Cinyras,,I might be joined to him; but, as it stands,,because he is mine he is never mine;,because near to me he is far from me.,but strangers to each other; for I then,,could wish to go, and leave my native land,,and so escape temptation to this crime:,but my unhappy passion holds me here,,that I may see Cinyras face to face,,and touch him, talk with him and even kiss him—,the best, if nothing else can be allowed.,depraved? Think of the many sacred ties,and loved names, you are dragging to the mire:,the rival of your mother, will you be,the mistress of your father, and be named,the sister of your son, and make yourself,the mother of your brother? And will you,not dread the sisters with black snakes for hair.,Whom guilty creatures, such as you, can see,brandish relentless flames before their eyes,and faces? While your body has not sinned,you must not let sin creep into your heart,,and violate great Nature's law with your,unlawful rovings. If you had the right,to long for his endearment, it could not,be possible. He is a virtuous man,and is regardful of the moral law—,oh how I wish my passion could be his!”,but Cinyras, her father, who was urged,by such a throng of suitors for her hand,,that he could make no choice, at last inquired,of her, so she might make her heart's wish known.,And as he named them over, asked her which,he fixed her gaze upon her father's face,,in doubtful agony what she could say,,while hot tears filled her eyes. Her father, sure,it all was of a virginal alarm,,as he is telling her she need not weep,dries her wet cheeks and kisses her sweet lips.,Too much delighted with his gentle words,and kind endearments, Myrrha, when he asked,again, which one might be her husband, said,,“The one just like yourself.”, And he replied,not understanding what her heart would say,,“You answer as a loving-daughter should.”,When she heard “loving-daughter” said, the girl,too conscious of her guilt, looked on the ground.,the world-care of all mortals, but of her,who, sleepless through the night, burnt in the flame,of her misplaced affection. First despair,compels her to abandon every hope,,and then she changes and resolves to try;,and so she wavers from desire to shame,,for she could not adhere to any plan.,is chopped until the last blow has been struck,,then sways and threatens danger to all sides;,o does her weak mind, cut with many blows,,waver unsteadily—this way and that—,and turning back and forth it finds no rest,from passion, save the rest that lies in death.,Resolved to hang herself, she sat upright;,then, as she tied her girdle to a beam,,he said, “Farewell, beloved Cinyras,,and may you know the cause of my sad death.”,And while she spoke those words, her fingers fixed,the noosed rope close around her death-pale neck.,was heard by her attentive nurse who watched,outside the room. And, faithful as of old,,he opened the shut door. But, when she saw,the frightful preparations made for death,,the odd nurse screamed and beat and tore her breast,,then seized and snatched the rope from Myrrha's neck;,and after she had torn the noose apart,,at last she had the time to weep and time,,while she embraced the girl, to ask her why,the halter had been fastened round her neck.,The girl in stubborn silence only fixed,her eyes upon the ground—sad that her first,attempt at death, because too slow, was foiled.,The old nurse-woman urged and urged, and showed,her gray hair and her withered breasts, and begged,her by the memory of her cradle days,,and baby nourishment, to hide no more,from her long-trusted nurse what caused her grief.,The girl turned from her questions with a sigh.,The nurse, still more determined to know all,,promised fidelity and her best aid—,my old age offers means for your relief:,if it be frantic passion, I have charms,and healing herbs; or, if an evil spell,was worked on you by someone, you shall be,cured to your perfect self by magic rites;,or, if your actions have enraged the Gods,,a sacrifice will satisfy their wrath.,What else could be the cause? Your family,and you are prosperous—your mother dear,,and your loved father are alive and well.”,And, when she heard her say the name of father,,a sigh heaved up from her distracted heart.,conceive such evil in the girl's sick heart;,and yet she had a feeling it must be,only a love affair could cause the crime:,and with persistent purpose begged the cause.,She pressed the weeping girl against her breast;,and as she held her in her feeble arms,,he said, “Sweet heart, I know you are in love:,in this affair I am entirely yours,for your good service, you must have no fear,,your father cannot learn of it from me.,”,and with her face deep-buried in a couch,,obbed out, “Go from me or stop asking me,my cause of grief—it is a crime of shame—,I cannot tell it!” Horrified the nurse,tretched forth her trembling hands, palsied,with age and fear. She fell down at the feet,of her loved foster-child, and coaxing her,and frightening her, she threatened to disclose,her knowledge of the halter and of what,he knew of her attempted suicide;,and after all was said, she gave her word,to help the girl, when she had given to her,a true confession of her sad heart-love.,it, weeping, on the bosom of her nurse.,She tried so often to confess, and just,as often checked her words, her shamed face hid,deep in her garment: “Oh”, at last she groans,,“O mother blessed in your husband—oh!”,Only that much she said and groaned. The nurse,felt a cold horror stealing through her heart,and frame, for she now understood it all.,And her white hair stood bristling on her head,,while with the utmost care of love and art,he strove to use appropriate words and deeds,,to banish the mad passion of the girl.,Though Myrrha knew that she was truly warned,,he was resolved to die, unless she could,obtain the object of her wicked love.,The nurse gave way at last as in defeat,,and said, “Live and enjoy—” but did not dare,to say, “your father”, did not finish, though,,he promised and confirmed it with an oath.,the annual festival of Ceres . Then,,all robed in decent garments of snow-white,,they bring garlands of precious wheat, which are,first fruits of worship; and for nine nights they,must count forbidden every act of love,,and shun the touch of man. And in that throng,,Cenchreis, the king's wife, with constant care,attended every secret rite: and so,while the king's bed was lacking his true wife,,one of those nights,—King Cinyras was drunk,with too much wine,—the scheming nurse informed,him of a girl most beautiful, whose love,for him was passionate; in a false tale,he pictured a true passion. — When he asked,the maiden's age, she answered, “Just the same,as Myrrha's.” Bidden by the king to go,and fetch her, the officious old nurse, when,he found the girl, cried out; “Rejoice, my dear,,we have contrived it!” The unhappy girl,could not feel genuine joy in her amazed,and startled body. Her dazed mind was filled,with strange forebodings; but she did believe,her heart was joyful.—Great excitement filled,her wrecked heart with such inconsistencies.,between the Bears, Bootes turned his wain,down to the west, and the guilty Myrrha turns,to her enormity. The golden moon,flies from the heaven, and black clouds cover,the hiding stars and Night has lost her fires.,The first to hide were stars of Icarus,and of Erigone, in hallowed love,devoted to her father. Myrrha thrice,was warned by omen of her stumbling foot;,the funeral screech-owl also warned her thrice,,with dismal cry; yet Myrrha onward goes.,It seems to her the black night lessens shame.,She holds fast to her nurse with her left hand,,and with the other hand gropes through the dark.,And now they go until she finds the door.,Now at the threshold of her father's room,,he softly pushes back the door, her nurse,takes her within. The girl's knees trembling sink,beneath her. Her drawn bloodless face has lost,its color, and while she moves to the crime,,bad courage goes from her until afraid,of her bold effort, she would gladly turn,unrecognized. But as she hesitates,,the aged crone still holds her by the hand;,and leading her up to the high bed there,delivering Myrrha, says, “Now Cinyras,,you take her, she is yours;” and leaves the pair,doomed in their crime — the father to pollute,his own flesh in his own bed; where he tries,first to encourage her from maiden fears,,by gently talking to the timid girl.,He chanced to call her “daughter,” as a name,best suited to her age; and she in turn,,endearing, called him “father”, so no names,might be omitted to complete their guilt.,of her own father hidden in her womb,,and their guilt was repeated many nights;,till Cinyras — determined he must know,his mistress, after many meetings, brought,a light and knew his crime had harmed his daughter.,out from the scabbard where it hung near by.—,but frightened Myrrha fled, and so escaped,death in the shadows of dark night. Groping,her pathless way at random through the fields,,he left Arabia , famed for spreading palms,,and wandered through Panchaean lands. Until,after nine months of aimless wandering days,,he rested in Sabaea , for she could,not hold the burden she had borne so long.,by fear of death and weariness of life,,her wishes were expressed in prayer: “O Gods,,if you will listen to my prayer, I do,not shun a dreadful punishment deserved;,but now because my life offends the living,,and dying I offend the dead, drive me,from both conditions; change me, and refuse,my flesh both life and death!”,to her unnatural prayer; her last petition,had answering gods. For even as she prayed,,the earth closed over her legs; roots grew out,and, stretching forth obliquely from her nails,,gave strong support to her up-growing trunk;,her bones got harder, and her marrow still,unchanged, kept to the center, as her blood,was changed to sap, as her outstretching arms,became long branches and her fingers twigs;,and as her soft skin hardened into bark:,and the fast-growing tree had closely bound,her womb, still heavy, and had covered her,oft bosom; and was spreading quickly up,to her neck.—She can not endure the strain,,and sinking down into the rising wood,,her whole face soon was hidden in the bark.,Although all sense of human life was gone,,as quickly as she lost her human form,,her weeping was continued, and warm drops,distilled from her (the tree) cease not to fall.,There is a virtue even in her tears—,the valued myrrh distilling from the trunk,,keeps to her name, by which she still is known,,and cannot be forgot of aging time.,was growing, and endeavored now to find,a way of safe birth. The tree-trunk was swelling,and tightened against Myrrha, who, unable,to express her torture, could not call upon,Lucina in the usual words of travail.,But then just like a woman in great pain,,the tree bends down and, while it groans, bedews,itself with falling tears. Lucina stood,in pity near the groaning branches, laid,her hands on them, and uttered charms to aid,the hindered birth. The tree cracked open then,,the bark was rent asunder, and it gave forth,its living weight, a wailing baby-boy.,The Naiads laid him on soft leaves, and they,anointed him with his own mother's tears.,as beautiful as naked cupids seen,in chosen paintings. Only give to him,a polished quiver, or take theirs from them,,and no keen eye could choose him from their midst.,Time gliding by without our knowledge cheats us,,and nothing can be swifter than the years.,That son of sister and grandfather, who,was lately hidden in his parent tree,,just lately born, a lovely baby-boy,is now a youth, now man more beautiful,than during growth. He wins the love of Venus,and so avenges his own mother's passion.,For while the goddess' son with quiver held,on shoulder, once was kissing his loved mother,,it chanced unwittingly he grazed her breast,with a projecting arrow. Instantly,the wounded goddess pushed her son away;,but the scratch had pierced her deeper than she thought,and even Venus was at first deceived.,he does not think of her Cytherian shores,and does not care for Paphos , which is girt,by the deep sea, nor Cnidos , haunts of fish,,nor Amathus far-famed for precious ores.,to heaven, and so she holds close to his ways,as his companion, and forgets to rest,at noon-day in the shade, neglecting care,of her sweet beauty. She goes through the woods,,and over mountain ridges and wild fields,,rocky and thorn-set, bare to her white knees,after Diana's manner. And she cheers,the hounds, intent to hunt for harmless prey,,uch as the leaping hare, or the wild stag,,high-crowned with branching antlers, or the doe.—,he keeps away from fierce wild boars, away,from ravenous wolves; and she avoids the bears,of frightful claws, and lions glutted with,the blood of slaughtered cattle.,Adonis, to beware and fear them. If her fears,for you were only heeded! “Oh be brave,”,he says, “against those timid animals,which fly from you; but courage is not safe,against the bold. Dear boy, do not be rash,,do not attack the wild beasts which are armed,by nature, lest your glory may cost me,great sorrow. Neither youth nor beauty nor,the deeds which have moved Venus have effect,on lions, bristling boars, and on the eyes,and tempers of wild beasts. Boars have the force,of lightning in their curved tusks, and the rage,of tawny lions is unlimited.,I fear and hate them all.”,the reason, she says: “I will tell it; you,will be surprised to learn the bad result,caused by an ancient crime.—But I am weary,with unaccustomed toil; and see! a poplar,convenient, offers a delightful shade,and this lawn gives a good couch. Let us rest,ourselves here on the grass.” So saying, she,reclined upon the turf and, pillowing,her head against his breast and mingling kisses,with her words, she told him the following tale:,Perhaps you may have heard of a swift maid,,who ran much faster than swift-footed men,contesting in the race. What they have told,is not an idle tale.—She did excel,them all—and you could not have said,whether her swift speed or her beauty was,more worthy of your praise. When this maid once,consulted with an oracle, of her,fate after marriage, the god answered her:,“You, Atalanta, never will have need,of husband, who will only be your harm.,For your best good you should avoid the tie;,but surely you will not avoid your harm;,and while yet living you will lose yourself.”,he lived unwedded in far shaded woods;,and with harsh terms repulsed insistent throngs,of suitors. “I will not be won,” she said,,“Till I am conquered first in speed. Contest,the race with me. A wife and couch shall both,be given to reward the swift, but death,must recompense the one who lags behind.,This must be the condition of a race.”,Indeed she was that pitiless, but such,the power of beauty, a rash multitude,agreed to her harsh terms.,had come, a stranger, to the cruel race,,with condemnation in his heart against,the racing young men for their headstrong love;,and said, “Why seek a wife at such a risk?”,But when he saw her face, and perfect form,disrobed for perfect running, such a form,as mine, Adonis, or as yours—if you,were woman—he was so astonished he,raised up his hands and said, “Oh pardon me,brave men whom I was blaming, I could not,then realize the value of the prize,you strove for.” And as he is praising her,,his own heart leaping with love's fire, he hopes,no young man may outstrip her in the race;,and, full of envy, fears for the result.,untried? Divinity helps those who dare.”,But while the hero weighed it in his mind,the virgin flew as if her feet had wings.,Although she seemed to him in flight as swift,as any Scythian arrow, he admired,her beauty more; and her swift speed appeared,in her most beautiful. The breeze bore back,the streamers on her flying ankles, while,her hair was tossed back over her white shoulders;,the bright trimmed ribbons at her knees were fluttering,,and over her white girlish body came,a pink flush, just as when a purple awning,across a marble hall gives it a wealth,of borrowed hues. And while Hippomenes,in wonder gazed at her, the goal was reached;,and Atalanta crowned victorious,with festal wreath.—But all the vanquished youths,paid the death-penalty with sighs and groans,,according to the stipulated bond.,he stood up boldly in the midst of all;,and fixing his strong eyes upon the maiden, said:,“Where is the glory in an easy victory,over such weaklings? Try your fate with me!,If fortune fail to favor you, how could,it shame you to be conquered by a man?,Megareus of Onchestus is my father,,his grandsire, Neptune, god of all the seas.,I am descendant of the King of Waves:,and add to this, my name for manly worth,has not disgraced the fame of my descent.,If you should prove victorious against,this combination, you will have achieved,a great enduring name—the only one,who ever bested great Hippomenes.”,grew softer, in her vacillating hopes,to conquer and be conquered; till at last,,her heart, unbalanced, argued in this way:,wishing to spoil this one prompts him to seek,wedlock with me and risk his own dear life.,I am not worth the price, if I may judge.,His beauty does not touch me—but I could,be moved by it—I must consider he,is but a boy. It is not he himself,who moves me, but his youth. Sufficient cause,for thought are his great courage and his soul,fearless of death. What of his high descent;—,great grandson of the King of all the seas?,What of his love for me that has such great,importance, he would perish if his fate,denied my marriage to him? O strange boy,,go from me while you can; abandon hope,of this alliance stained with blood—A match,with me is fatal. Other maids will not,refuse to wed you, and a wiser girl,will gladly seek your love.—But what concern,is it of mine, when I but think of those,who have already perished! Let him look,to it himself; and let him die. Since he,is not warned by his knowledge of the fate,of many other suitors, he declares,quite plainly, he is weary of his life.—,one hope to live with me? And suffer death,though undeserved, for me because he loves?,My victory will not ward off the hate,,the odium of the deed! But it is not,a fault of mine.—Oh fond, fond man, I would,that you had never seen me! But you are,o madly set upon it, I could wish,you may prove much the swifter! Oh how dear,how lovable is his young girlish face!—,ah, doomed Hippomenes, I only wish,mischance had never let you see me! You,are truly worthy of a life on earth.,If I had been more fortunate, and not,denied a happy marriage day; I would,not share my bed with any man but you.”,and knowing nothing of the power of love,,he is so ignorant of what she does,,he loves and does not know she is in love.,loudly demanded the accustomed race.,A suppliant, the young Hippomenes,invoked me with his anxious voice, “I pray,to you, O Venus, Queen of Love, be near,and help my daring—smile upon the love,you have inspired!” The breeze, not envious,,wafted this prayer to me; and I confess,,it was so tender it did move my heart—,I had but little time to give him aid.,the Field Tamasus—the most prized of all,the fertile lands of Cyprus . This rich field,,in ancient days, was set apart for me,,by chosen elders who decreed it should,enrich my temples yearly. In this field,there grows a tree, with gleaming golden leaves,,and all its branches crackle with bright gold.,Since I was coming from there, by some chance,,I had three golden apples in my hand,,which I had plucked. With them I planned to aid,Hippomenes. While quite invisible,to all but him, I taught him how to use,those golden apples for his benefit.,and both of them crouching flashed quickly forth,and skimmed the surface of the sandy course,with flying feet. You might even think those two,could graze the sea with unwet feet and pass,over the ripened heads of standing grain.,the cheering multitude cried out to him:—,“Now is the time to use your strength. Go on!,Hippomenes! Bend to the work! You're sure,to win!” It must be doubted who was most,rejoiced by those brave words, Megareus' son,,or Schoeneus' daughter. Oh, how often, when,he could have passed him, she delayed her speed;,and after gazing long upon his face,reluctantly again would pass him! Now,dry panting breath came from his weary throat—,the goal still far away.—Then Neptune's scion,threw one of three gold apples. Atalanta,with wonder saw it—eager to possess,the shining fruit, she turned out of her course,,picked up the rolling gold. Hippomenes,passed by her, while spectators roared applause.,Increasing speed, she overcame delay,,made up for time lost, and again she left,the youth behind. She was delayed again,because he tossed another golden apple.,She followed him, and passed him in the race.,“Be near me, goddess, while I use your gift.”,With youthful might he threw the shining gold,,in an oblique direction to the side,,o that pursuit would mean a slow return.,The virgin seemed to hesitate, in doubt,whether to follow after this third prize.,and, adding weight to the gold fruit, she held,,impeded her with weight and loss of time.,For fear my narrative may stretch beyond,the race itself,—the maiden was outstripped;,Hippomenes then led his prize away.,with tribute of sweet incense? But he was,ungrateful, and, forgetful of my help,,he gave me neither frankincense nor thanks.,Such conduct threw me into sudden wrath,,and, fretting at the slight, I felt I must,not be despised at any future time.,I told myself 'twas only right to make,a just example of them. They were near,a temple, hidden in the forest, which,glorious Echion in remembered time,had built to Rhea, Mother of the gods,,in payment of a vow. So, wearied from,the distance traveled, they were glad to have,a needed rest. Hippomenes while there,,was seized with love his heart could not control.—,a passion caused by my divinity.,covered with pumice. It was hallowed by,religious veneration of the past.,Within the shadows of that place, a priest,had stationed many wooden images,of olden gods. The lovers entered there,and desecrated it. The images,were scandalized, and turned their eyes away.,The tower-crowned Mother, Cybele, at first,prepared to plunge the guilty pair beneath,the waves of Styx, but such a punishment,eemed light. And so their necks, that had been smooth.,Were covered instantly with tawny manes;,their fingers bent to claws; their arms were changed,to fore-legs; and their bosoms held their weight;,and with their tails they swept the sandy ground.,of words they utter growls. They haunt the woods,,a bridal-room to their ferocious taste.,And now fierce lions they are terrible,to all of life; except to Cybele;,whose harness has subdued their champing jaws.,uch savage animals; avoid all those,which do not turn their fearful backs in flight,but offer their bold breasts to your attack,,lest courage should be fatal to us both.,Indeed she warned him. — Harnessing her swans,,he traveled swiftly through the yielding air;,but his rash courage would not heed advice.,By chance his dogs, which followed a sure track,,aroused a wild boar from his hiding place;,and, as he rushed out from his forest lair,,Adonis pierced him with a glancing stroke.,first struck the spear-shaft from his bleeding side;,and, while the trembling youth was seeking where,to find a safe retreat, the savage beast,raced after him, until at last he sank,his deadly tusk deep in Adonis' groin;,and stretched him dying on the yellow sand.,in her light chariot, had not yet arrived,at Cyprus , on the wings of her white swans.,Afar she recognized his dying groans,,and turned her white birds towards the sound. And when,down looking from the lofty sky, she saw,him nearly dead, his body bathed in blood,,he leaped down—tore her garment—tore her hair —,and beat her bosom with distracted hands.,And blaming Fate said, “But not everything,is at the mercy of your cruel power.,My sorrow for Adonis will remain,,enduring as a lasting monument.,Each passing year the memory of his death,hall cause an imitation of my grief.,perennial. Was it not allowed to you,Persephone, to transform Menthe's limbs,into sweet fragrant mint? And can this change,of my loved hero be denied to me?”,weet-smelling nectar, and his blood as soon,as touched by it began to effervesce,,just as transparent bubbles always rise,in rainy weather. Nor was there a pause,more than an hour, when from Adonis, blood,,exactly of its color, a loved flower,prang up, such as pomegranates give to us,,mall trees which later hide their seeds beneath,a tough rind. But the joy it gives to man,is short-lived, for the winds which give the flower,its name, Anemone, shake it right down,,because its slender hold, always so weak,,lets it fall to the ground from its frail stem. |