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Original / primary: Perseus Eng2
4.1.1
Of air-born honey, gift of heaven, I now
4.1.2
Take up the tale. Upon this theme no less
4.1.3
Look thou, Maecenas, with indulgent eye.
4.1.4
A marvellous display of puny powers,
4.1.5
High-hearted chiefs, a nation's history,
4.1.6
Its traits, its bent, its battles and its clans,
4.1.7
All, each, shall pass before you, while I sing.
4.1.8
Slight though the poet's theme, not slight the praise,
4.1.9
So frown not heaven, and Phoebus hear his call.
4.8.10
First find your bees a settled sure abode,
4.8.11
Where neither winds can enter (winds blow back
4.8.12
The foragers with food returning home)
4.8.13
Nor sheep and butting kids tread down the flowers,
4.8.14
Nor heifer wandering wide upon the plain
4.8.15
Dash off the dew, and bruise the springing blades.
4.8.16
Let the gay lizard too keep far aloof
4.8.17
His scale-clad body from their honied stalls,
4.8.18
And the bee-eater, and what birds beside,
4.8.19
And Procne smirched with blood upon the breast
4.8.20
From her own murderous hands. For these roam wide
4.8.21
Wasting all substance, or the bees themselves
4.8.22
Strike flying, and in their beaks bear home, to glut
4.8.23
Those savage nestlings with the dainty prey.
4.8.24
But let clear springs and moss-green pools be near,
4.8.25
And through the grass a streamlet hurrying run,
4.8.26
Some palm-tree o'er the porch extend its shade,
4.8.27
Or huge-grown oleaster, that in Spring,
4.8.28
Their own sweet Spring-tide, when the new-made chiefs
4.8.29
Lead forth the young swarms, and, escaped their comb,
4.8.30
The colony comes forth to sport and play,
4.8.31
The neighbouring bank may lure them from the heat,
4.8.32
Or bough befriend with hospitable shade.
4.8.33
O'er the mid-waters, whether swift or still,
4.8.34
Cast willow-branches and big stones enow,
4.8.35
Bridge after bridge, where they may footing find
4.8.36
And spread their wide wings to the summer sun,
4.8.37
If haply Eurus, swooping as they pause,
4.8.38
Have dashed with spray or plunged them in the deep.
4.8.39
And let green cassias and far-scented thymes,
4.8.40
And savory with its heavy-laden breath
4.8.41
Bloom round about, and violet-beds hard by
4.8.42
Sip sweetness from the fertilizing springs.
4.8.43
For the hive's self, or stitched of hollow bark,
4.8.44
Or from tough osier woven, let the doors
4.8.45
Be strait of entrance; for stiff winter's cold
4.8.46
Congeals the honey, and heat resolves and thaws,
4.8.47
To bees alike disastrous; not for naught
4.8.48
So haste they to cement the tiny pores
4.8.49
That pierce their walls, and fill the crevices
4.8.50
With pollen from the flowers, and glean and keep
4.8.51
To this same end the glue, that binds more fast
4.8.52
Than bird-lime or the pitch from Ida's pines.
4.8.53
Oft too in burrowed holes, if fame be true,
4.8.54
They make their cosy subterranean home,
4.8.55
And deeply lodged in hollow rocks are found,
4.8.56
Or in the cavern of an age-hewn tree.
4.8.57
Thou not the less smear round their crannied cribs
4.8.58
With warm smooth mud-coat, and strew leaves above;
4.8.59
But near their home let neither yew-tree grow,
4.8.60
Nor reddening crabs be roasted, and mistrust
4.8.61
Deep marish-ground and mire with noisome smell,
4.8.62
Or where the hollow rocks sonorous ring,
4.8.63
And the word spoken buffets and rebounds.
4.51.64
What more? When now the golden sun has put
4.51.65
Winter to headlong flight beneath the world,
4.51.66
And oped the doors of heaven with summer ray,
4.51.67
Forthwith they roam the glades and forests o'er,
4.51.68
Rifle the painted flowers, or sip the streams,
4.51.69
Light-hovering on the surface. Hence it is
4.51.70
With some sweet rapture, that we know not of,
4.51.71
Their little ones they foster, hence with skill
4.51.72
Work out new wax or clinging honey mould.
4.51.73
So when the cage-escaped hosts you see
4.51.74
Float heavenward through the hot clear air, until
4.51.75
You marvel at yon dusky cloud that spreads
4.51.76
And lengthens on the wind, then mark them well;
4.51.77
For then 'tis ever the fresh springs they seek
4.51.78
And bowery shelter: hither must you bring
4.51.79
The savoury sweets I bid, and sprinkle them,
4.51.80
Bruised balsam and the wax-flower's lowly weed,
4.51.81
And wake and shake the tinkling cymbals heard
4.51.82
By the great Mother: on the anointed spots
4.51.83
Themselves will settle, and in wonted wise
4.51.84
Seek of themselves the cradle's inmost depth.
4.67.85
But if to battle they have hied them forth—
4.67.86
For oft 'twixt king and king with uproar dire
4.67.87
Fierce feud arises, and at once from far
4.67.88
You may discern what passion sways the mob,
4.67.89
And how their hearts are throbbing for the strife;
4.67.90
Hark! the hoarse brazen note that warriors know
4.67.91
Chides on the loiterers, and the ear may catch
4.67.92
A sound that mocks the war-trump's broken blasts;
4.67.93
Then in hot haste they muster, then flash wings,
4.67.94
Sharpen their pointed beaks and knit their thews,
4.67.95
And round the king, even to his royal tent,
4.67.96
Throng rallying, and with shouts defy the foe.
4.67.97
So, when a dry Spring and clear space is given,
4.67.98
Forth from the gates they burst, they clash on high;
4.67.99
A din arises; they are heaped and rolled
4.67.100
Into one mighty mass, and headlong fall,
4.67.101
Not denselier hail through heaven, nor pelting so
4.67.102
Rains from the shaken oak its acorn-shower.
4.67.103
Conspicuous by their wings the chiefs themselves
4.67.104
Press through the heart of battle, and display
4.67.105
A giant's spirit in each pigmy frame,
4.67.106
Steadfast no inch to yield till these or those
4.67.107
The victor's ponderous arm has turned to flight.
4.67.108
Such fiery passions and such fierce assaults
4.67.109
A little sprinkled dust controls and quells.
4.88.110
And now, both leaders from the field recalled,
4.88.111
Who hath the worser seeming, do to death,
4.88.112
Lest royal waste wax burdensome, but let
4.88.113
His better lord it on the empty throne.
4.88.114
One with gold-burnished flakes will shine like fire,
4.88.115
For twofold are their kinds, the nobler he,
4.88.116
Of peerless front and lit with flashing scales;
4.88.117
That other, from neglect and squalor foul,
4.88.118
Drags slow a cumbrous belly. As with kings,
4.88.119
So too with people, diverse is their mould,
4.88.120
Some rough and loathly, as when the wayfarer
4.88.121
Scapes from a whirl of dust, and scorched with heat
4.88.122
Spits forth the dry grit from his parched mouth:
4.88.123
The others shine forth and flash with lightning-gleam,
4.88.124
Their backs all blazoned with bright drops of gold
4.88.125
Symmetric: this the likelier breed; from these,
4.88.126
When heaven brings round the season, thou shalt strain
4.88.127
Sweet honey, nor yet so sweet as passing clear,
4.88.128
And mellowing on the tongue the wine-god's fire.
4.103.129
But when the swarms fly aimlessly abroad,
4.103.130
Disport themselves in heaven and spurn their cells,
4.103.131
Leaving the hive unwarmed, from such vain play
4.103.132
Must you refrain their volatile desires,
4.103.133
Nor hard the task: tear off the monarchs' wings;
4.103.134
While these prove loiterers, none beside will dare
4.103.135
Mount heaven, or pluck the standards from the camp.
4.103.136
Let gardens with the breath of saffron flowers
4.103.137
Allure them, and the lord of Hellespont,
4.103.138
Priapus, wielder of the willow-scythe,
4.103.139
Safe in his keeping hold from birds and thieves.
4.103.140
And let the man to whom such cares are dear
4.103.141
Himself bring thyme and pine-trees from the heights,
4.103.142
And strew them in broad belts about their home;
4.103.143
No hand but his the blistering task should ply,
4.103.144
Plant the young slips, or shed the genial showers.
4.116.145
And I myself, were I not even now
4.116.146
Furling my sails, and, nigh the journey's end,
4.116.147
Eager to turn my vessel's prow to shore,
4.116.148
Perchance would sing what careful husbandry
4.116.149
Makes the trim garden smile; of Paestum too,
4.116.150
Whose roses bloom and fade and bloom again;
4.116.151
How endives glory in the streams they drink,
4.116.152
And green banks in their parsley, and how the gourd
4.116.153
Twists through the grass and rounds him to paunch;
4.116.154
Nor of Narcissus had my lips been dumb,
4.116.155
That loiterer of the flowers, nor supple-stemmed
4.116.156
Acanthus, with the praise of ivies pale,
4.116.157
And myrtles clinging to the shores they love.
4.116.158
For 'neath the shade of tall Oebalia's towers,
4.116.159
Where dark Galaesus laves the yellowing fields,
4.116.160
An old man once I mind me to have seen—
4.116.161
From Corycus he came—to whom had fallen
4.116.162
Some few poor acres of neglected land,
4.116.163
And they nor fruitful' neath the plodding steer,
4.116.164
Meet for the grazing herd, nor good for vines.
4.116.165
Yet he, the while his meagre garden-herbs
4.116.166
Among the thorns he planted, and all round
4.116.167
White lilies, vervains, and lean poppy set,
4.116.168
In pride of spirit matched the wealth of kings,
4.116.169
And home returning not till night was late,
4.116.170
With unbought plenty heaped his board on high.
4.116.171
He was the first to cull the rose in spring,
4.116.172
He the ripe fruits in autumn; and ere yet
4.116.173
Winter had ceased in sullen ire to rive
4.116.174
The rocks with frost, and with her icy bit
4.116.175
Curb in the running waters, there was he
4.116.176
Plucking the rathe faint hyacinth, while he chid
4.116.177
Summer's slow footsteps and the lagging West.
4.116.178
Therefore he too with earliest brooding bees
4.116.179
And their full swarms o'erflowed, and first was he
4.116.180
To press the bubbling honey from the comb;
4.116.181
Lime-trees were his, and many a branching pine;
4.116.182
And all the fruits wherewith in early bloom
4.116.183
The orchard-tree had clothed her, in full tale
4.116.184
Hung there, by mellowing autumn perfected.
4.116.185
He too transplanted tall-grown elms a-row,
4.116.186
Time-toughened pear, thorns bursting with the plum
4.116.187
And plane now yielding serviceable shade
4.116.188
For dry lips to drink under: but these things,
4.116.189
Shut off by rigorous limits, I pass by,
4.116.190
And leave for others to sing after me.
4.149.191
Come, then, I will unfold the natural powers
4.149.192
Great Jove himself upon the bees bestowed,
4.149.193
The boon for which, led by the shrill sweet strains
4.149.194
Of the Curetes and their clashing brass,
4.149.195
They fed the King of heaven in Dicte's cave.
4.149.196
Alone of all things they receive and hold
4.149.197
Community of offspring, and they house
4.149.198
Together in one city, and beneath
4.149.199
The shelter of majestic laws they live;
4.149.200
And they alone fixed home and country know,
4.149.201
And in the summer, warned of coming cold,
4.149.202
Make proof of toil, and for the general store
4.149.203
Hoard up their gathered harvesting. For some
4.149.204
Watch o'er the victualling of the hive, and these
4.149.205
By settled order ply their tasks afield;
4.149.206
And some within the confines of their home
4.149.207
Plant firm the comb's first layer, Narcissus' tear,
4.149.208
And sticky gum oozed from the bark of trees,
4.149.209
Then set the clinging wax to hang therefrom.
4.149.210
Others the while lead forth the full-grown young,
4.149.211
Their country's hope, and others press and pack
4.149.212
The thrice repured honey, and stretch their cells
4.149.213
To bursting with the clear-strained nectar sweet.
4.149.214
Some, too, the wardship of the gates befalls,
4.149.215
Who watch in turn for showers and cloudy skies,
4.149.216
Or ease returning labourers of their load,
4.149.217
Or form a band and from their precincts drive
4.149.218
The drones, a lazy herd. How glows the work!
4.149.219
How sweet the honey smells of perfumed thyme
4.149.220
Like the Cyclopes, when in haste they forge
4.149.221
From the slow-yielding ore the thunderbolts,
4.149.222
Some from the bull's-hide bellows in and out
4.149.223
Let the blasts drive, some dip i' the water-trough
4.149.224
The sputtering metal: with the anvil's weight
4.149.225
Groans Etna: they alternately in time
4.149.226
With giant strength uplift their sinewy arms,
4.149.227
Or twist the iron with the forceps' grip—
4.149.228
Not otherwise, to measure small with great,
4.149.229
The love of getting planted in their breasts
4.149.230
Goads on the bees, that haunt old Cecrops' heights,
4.149.231
Each in his sphere to labour. The old have charge
4.149.232
To keep the town, and build the walled combs,
4.149.233
And mould the cunning chambers; but the youth,
4.149.234
Their tired legs packed with thyme, come labouring home
4.149.235
Belated, for afar they range to feed
4.149.236
On arbutes and the grey-green willow-leaves,
4.149.237
And cassia and the crocus blushing red,
4.149.238
Glue-yielding limes, and hyacinths dusky-eyed.
4.149.239
One hour for rest have all, and one for toil:
4.149.240
With dawn they hurry from the gates—no room
4.149.241
For loiterers there: and once again, when even
4.149.242
Now bids them quit their pasturing on the plain,
4.149.243
Then homeward make they, then refresh their strength:
4.149.244
A hum arises: hark! they buzz and buzz
4.149.245
About the doors and threshold; till at length
4.149.246
Safe laid to rest they hush them for the night,
4.149.247
And welcome slumber laps their weary limbs.
4.191.248
But from the homestead not too far they fare,
4.191.249
When showers hang like to fall, nor, east winds nigh,
4.191.250
Confide in heaven, but 'neath the city walls
4.191.251
Safe-circling fetch them water, or essay
4.191.252
Brief out-goings, and oft weigh-up tiny stones,
4.191.253
As light craft ballast in the tossing tide,
4.191.254
Wherewith they poise them through the cloudy vast.
4.191.255
This law of life, too, by the bees obeyed,
4.191.256
Will move thy wonder, that nor sex with sex
4.191.257
Yoke they in marriage, nor yield their limbs to love,
4.191.258
Nor know the pangs of labour, but alone
4.191.259
From leaves and honied herbs, the mothers, each,
4.191.260
Gather their offspring in their mouths, alone
4.191.261
Supply new kings and pigmy commonwealth,
4.191.262
And their old court and waxen realm repair.
4.191.263
Oft, too, while wandering, against jagged stones
4.191.264
Their wings they fray, and 'neath the burden yield
4.191.265
Their liberal lives: so deep their love of flowers,
4.191.266
So glorious deem they honey's proud acquist.
4.191.267
Therefore, though each a life of narrow span,
4.191.268
Ne'er stretched to summers more than seven, befalls,
4.191.269
Yet deathless doth the race endure, and still
4.191.270
Perennial stands the fortune of their line,
4.191.271
From grandsire unto grandsire backward told.
4.191.272
Moreover, not Aegyptus, nor the realm
4.191.273
Of boundless Lydia, no, nor Parthia's hordes,
4.191.274
Nor Median Hydaspes, to their king
4.191.275
Do such obeisance: lives the king unscathed,
4.191.276
One will inspires the million: is he dead,
4.191.277
Snapt is the bond of fealty; they themselves
4.191.278
Ravage their toil-wrought honey, and rend amain
4.191.279
Their own comb's waxen trellis. He is the lord
4.191.280
Of all their labour; him with awful eye
4.191.281
They reverence, and with murmuring throngs surround,
4.191.282
In crowds attend, oft shoulder him on high,
4.191.283
Or with their bodies shield him in the fight,
4.191.284
And seek through showering wounds a glorious death.
4.219.285
Led by these tokens, and with such traits to guide,
4.219.286
Some say that unto bees a share is given
4.219.287
Of the Divine Intelligence, and to drink
4.219.288
Pure draughts of ether; for God permeates all—
4.219.289
Earth, and wide ocean, and the vault of heaven—
4.219.290
From whom flocks, herds, men, beasts of every kind,
4.219.291
Draw each at birth the fine essential flame;
4.219.292
Yea, and that all things hence to Him return,
4.219.293
Brought back by dissolution, nor can death
4.219.294
Find place: but, each into his starry rank,
4.219.295
Alive they soar, and mount the heights of heaven.
4.228.296
If now their narrow home thou wouldst unseal,
4.228.297
And broach the treasures of the honey-house,
4.228.298
With draught of water first toment thy lips,
4.228.299
And spread before thee fumes of trailing smoke.
4.228.300
Twice is the teeming produce gathered in,
4.228.301
Twofold their time of harvest year by year,
4.228.302
Once when Taygete the Pleiad uplifts
4.228.303
Her comely forehead for the earth to see,
4.228.304
With foot of scorn spurning the ocean-streams,
4.228.305
Once when in gloom she flies the watery Fish,
4.228.306
And dips from heaven into the wintry wave.
4.228.307
Unbounded then their wrath; if hurt, they breathe
4.228.308
Venom into their bite, cleave to the veins
4.228.309
And let the sting lie buried, and leave their lives
4.228.310
Behind them in the wound. But if you dread
4.228.311
Too rigorous a winter, and would fain
4.228.312
Temper the coming time, and their bruised hearts
4.228.313
And broken estate to pity move thy soul,
4.228.314
Yet who would fear to fumigate with thyme,
4.228.315
Or cut the empty wax away? for oft
4.228.316
Into their comb the newt has gnawed unseen,
4.228.317
And the light-loathing beetles crammed their bed,
4.228.318
And he that sits at others' board to feast,
4.228.319
The do-naught drone; or 'gainst the unequal foe
4.228.320
Swoops the fierce hornet, or the moth's fell tribe;
4.228.321
Or spider, victim of Minerva's spite,
4.228.322
Athwart the doorway hangs her swaying net.
4.228.323
The more impoverished they, the keenlier all
4.228.324
To mend the fallen fortunes of their race
4.228.325
Will nerve them, fill the cells up, tier on tier,
4.228.326
And weave their granaries from the rifled flowers.
4.251.327
Now, seeing that life doth even to bee-folk bring
4.251.328
Our human chances, if in dire disease
4.251.329
Their bodies' strength should languish—which anon
4.251.330
By no uncertain tokens may be told—
4.251.331
Forthwith the sick change hue; grim leanness mars
4.251.332
Their visage; then from out the cells they bear
4.251.333
Forms reft of light, and lead the mournful pomp;
4.251.334
Or foot to foot about the porch they hang,
4.251.335
Or within closed doors loiter, listless all
4.251.336
From famine, and benumbed with shrivelling cold.
4.251.337
Then is a deep note heard, a long-drawn hum,
4.251.338
As when the chill South through the forests sighs,
4.251.339
As when the troubled ocean hoarsely booms
4.251.340
With back-swung billow, as ravening tide of fire
4.251.341
Surges, shut fast within the furnace-walls.
4.251.342
Then do I bid burn scented galbanum,
4.251.343
And, honey-streams through reeden troughs instilled,
4.251.344
Challenge and cheer their flagging appetite
4.251.345
To taste the well-known food; and it shall boot
4.251.346
To mix therewith the savour bruised from gall,
4.251.347
And rose-leaves dried, or must to thickness boiled
4.251.348
By a fierce fire, or juice of raisin-grapes
4.251.349
From Psithian vine, and with its bitter smell
4.251.350
Centaury, and the famed Cecropian thyme.
4.251.351
There is a meadow-flower by country folk
4.251.352
Hight star-wort; 'tis a plant not far to seek;
4.251.353
For from one sod an ample growth it rears,
4.251.354
Itself all golden, but girt with plenteous leaves,
4.251.355
Where glory of purple shines through violet gloom.
4.251.356
With chaplets woven hereof full oft are decked
4.251.357
Heaven's altars: harsh its taste upon the tongue;
4.251.358
Shepherds in vales smooth-shorn of nibbling flocks
4.251.359
By Mella's winding waters gather it.
4.251.360
The roots of this, well seethed in fragrant wine,
4.251.361
Set in brimmed baskets at their doors for food.
4.281.362
But if one's whole stock fail him at a stroke,
4.281.363
Nor hath he whence to breed the race anew,
4.281.364
'Tis time the wondrous secret to disclose
4.281.365
Taught by the swain of Arcady, even how
4.281.366
The blood of slaughtered bullocks oft has borne
4.281.367
Bees from corruption. I will trace me back
4.281.368
To its prime source the story's tangled thread,
4.281.369
And thence unravel. For where thy happy folk,
4.281.370
Canopus, city of Pellaean fame,
4.281.371
Dwell by the Nile's lagoon-like overflow,
4.281.372
And high o'er furrows they have called their own
4.281.373
Skim in their painted wherries; where, hard by,
4.281.374
The quivered Persian presses, and that flood
4.281.375
Which from the swart-skinned Aethiop bears him down,
4.281.376
Swift-parted into sevenfold branching mouths
4.281.377
With black mud fattens and makes Aegypt green,
4.281.378
That whole domain its welfare's hope secure
4.281.379
Rests on this art alone. And first is chosen
4.281.380
A strait recess, cramped closer to this end,
4.281.381
Which next with narrow roof of tiles atop
4.281.382
'Twixt prisoning walls they pinch, and add hereto
4.281.383
From the four winds four slanting window-slits.
4.281.384
Then seek they from the herd a steer, whose horns
4.281.385
With two years' growth are curling, and stop fast,
4.281.386
Plunge madly as he may, the panting mouth
4.281.387
And nostrils twain, and done with blows to death,
4.281.388
Batter his flesh to pulp i' the hide yet whole,
4.281.389
And shut the doors, and leave him there to lie.
4.281.390
But 'neath his ribs they scatter broken boughs,
4.281.391
With thyme and fresh-pulled cassias: this is done
4.281.392
When first the west winds bid the waters flow,
4.281.393
Ere flush the meadows with new tints, and ere
4.281.394
The twittering swallow buildeth from the beams.
4.281.395
Meanwhile the juice within his softened bones
4.281.396
Heats and ferments, and things of wondrous birth,
4.281.397
Footless at first, anon with feet and wings,
4.281.398
Swarm there and buzz, a marvel to behold;
4.281.399
And more and more the fleeting breeze they take,
4.281.400
Till, like a shower that pours from summer-clouds,
4.281.401
Forth burst they, or like shafts from quivering string
4.281.402
When Parthia's flying hosts provoke the fray.
4.315.403
Say what was he, what God, that fashioned forth
4.315.404
This art for us, O Muses? of man's skill
4.315.405
Whence came the new adventure? From thy vale,
4.315.406
Peneian Tempe, turning, bee-bereft,
4.315.407
So runs the tale, by famine and disease,
4.315.408
Mournful the shepherd Aristaeus stood
4.315.409
Fast by the haunted river-head, and thus
4.315.410
With many a plaint to her that bare him cried:
4.315.411
“Mother, Cyrene, mother, who hast thy home
4.315.412
Beneath this whirling flood, if he thou sayest,
4.315.413
Apollo, lord of Thymbra, be my sire,
4.315.414
Sprung from the Gods' high line, why barest thou me
4.315.415
With fortune's ban for birthright? Where is now
4.315.416
Thy love to me-ward banished from thy breast?
4.315.417
O! wherefore didst thou bid me hope for heaven?
4.315.418
Lo! even the crown of this poor mortal life,
4.315.419
Which all my skilful care by field and fold,
4.315.420
No art neglected, scarce had fashioned forth,
4.315.421
Even this falls from me, yet thou call'st me son.
4.315.422
Nay, then, arise! With thine own hands pluck up
4.315.423
My fruit-plantations: on the homestead fling
4.315.424
Pitiless fire; make havoc of my crops;
4.315.425
Burn the young plants, and wield the stubborn axe
4.315.426
Against my vines, if there hath taken the
4.315.427
Such loathing of my greatness.”
4.333.428
But that cry,
4.333.429
Even from her chamber in the river-deeps,
4.333.430
His mother heard: around her spun the nymphs
4.333.431
Milesian wool stained through with hyaline dye,
4.333.432
Drymo, Xantho, Ligea, Phyllodoce,
4.333.433
Their glossy locks o'er snowy shoulders shed,
4.333.434
Cydippe and Lycorias yellow-haired,
4.333.435
A maiden one, one newly learned even then
4.333.436
To bear Lucina's birth-pang. Clio, too,
4.333.437
And Beroe, sisters, ocean-children both,
4.333.438
Both zoned with gold and girt with dappled fell,
4.333.439
Ephyre and Opis, and from Asian meads
4.333.440
Deiopea, and, bow at length laid by,
4.333.441
Fleet-footed Arethusa. But in their midst
4.333.442
Fair Clymene was telling o'er the tale
4.333.443
Of Vulcan's idle vigilance and the stealth
4.333.444
Of Mars' sweet rapine, and from Chaos old
4.333.445
Counted the jostling love-joys of the Gods.
4.333.446
Charmed by whose lay, the while their woolly tasks
4.333.447
With spindles down they drew, yet once again
4.333.448
Smote on his mother's ears the mournful plaint
4.333.449
Of Aristaeus; on their glassy thrones
4.333.450
Amazement held them all; but Arethuse
4.333.451
Before the rest put forth her auburn head,
4.333.452
Peering above the wave-top, and from far
4.333.453
Exclaimed, “Cyrene, sister, not for naught
4.333.454
Scared by a groan so deep, behold! 'tis he,
4.333.455
Even Aristaeus, thy heart's fondest care,
4.333.456
Here by the brink of the Peneian sire
4.333.457
Stands woebegone and weeping, and by name
4.333.458
Cries out upon thee for thy cruelty.”
4.333.459
To whom, strange terror knocking at her heart,
4.333.460
“Bring, bring him to our sight,” the mother cried;
4.333.461
“His feet may tread the threshold even of Gods.”
4.333.462
So saying, she bids the flood yawn wide and yield
4.333.463
A pathway for his footsteps; but the wave
4.333.464
Arched mountain-wise closed round him, and within
4.333.465
Its mighty bosom welcomed, and let speed
4.333.466
To the deep river-bed. And now, with eyes
4.333.467
Of wonder gazing on his mother's hall
4.333.468
And watery kingdom and cave-prisoned pools
4.333.469
And echoing groves, he went, and, stunned by that
4.333.470
Stupendous whirl of waters, separate saw
4.333.471
All streams beneath the mighty earth that glide,
4.333.472
Phasis and Lycus, and that fountain-head
4.333.473
Whence first the deep Enipeus leaps to light,
4.333.474
Whence father Tiber, and whence Anio's flood,
4.333.475
And Hypanis that roars amid his rocks,
4.333.476
And Mysian Caicus, and, bull-browed
4.333.477
'Twixt either gilded horn, Eridanus,
4.333.478
Than whom none other through the laughing plains
4.333.479
More furious pours into the purple sea.
4.333.480
Soon as the chamber's hanging roof of stone
4.333.481
Was gained, and now Cyrene from her son
4.333.482
Had heard his idle weeping, in due course
4.333.483
Clear water for his hands the sisters bring,
4.333.484
With napkins of shorn pile, while others heap
4.333.485
The board with dainties, and set on afresh
4.333.486
The brimming goblets; with Panchaian fires
4.333.487
Upleap the altars; then the mother spake,
4.333.488
“Take beakers of Maconian wine,” she said,
4.333.489
“Pour we to Ocean.” Ocean, sire of all,
4.333.490
She worships, and the sister-nymphs who guard
4.333.491
The hundred forests and the hundred streams;
4.333.492
Thrice Vesta's fire with nectar clear she dashed,
4.333.493
Thrice to the roof-top shot the flame and shone:
4.333.494
Armed with which omen she essayed to speak:
4.387.495
“In Neptune's gulf Carpathian dwells a seer,
4.387.496
Caerulean Proteus, he who metes the main
4.387.497
With fish-drawn chariot of two-footed steeds;
4.387.498
Now visits he his native home once more,
4.387.499
Pallene and the Emathian ports; to him
4.387.500
We nymphs do reverence, ay, and Nereus old;
4.387.501
For all things knows the seer, both those which are
4.387.502
And have been, or which time hath yet to bring;
4.387.503
So willed it Neptune, whose portentous flocks,
4.387.504
And loathly sea-calves 'neath the surge he feeds.
4.387.505
Him first, my son, behoves thee seize and bind
4.387.506
That he may all the cause of sickness show,
4.387.507
And grant a prosperous end. For save by force
4.387.508
No rede will he vouchsafe, nor shalt thou bend
4.387.509
His soul by praying; whom once made captive, ply
4.387.510
With rigorous force and fetters; against these
4.387.511
His wiles will break and spend themselves in vain.
4.387.512
I, when the sun has lit his noontide fires,
4.387.513
When the blades thirst, and cattle love the shade,
4.387.514
Myself will guide thee to the old man's haunt,
4.387.515
Whither he hies him weary from the waves,
4.387.516
That thou mayst safelier steal upon his sleep.
4.387.517
But when thou hast gripped him fast with hand and gyve,
4.387.518
Then divers forms and bestial semblances
4.387.519
Shall mock thy grasp; for sudden he will change
4.387.520
To bristly boar, fell tigress, dragon scaled,
4.387.521
And tawny-tufted lioness, or send forth
4.387.522
A crackling sound of fire, and so shake of
4.387.523
The fetters, or in showery drops anon
4.387.524
Dissolve and vanish. But the more he shifts
4.387.525
His endless transformations, thou, my son,
4.387.526
More straitlier clench the clinging bands, until
4.387.527
His body's shape return to that thou sawest,
4.387.528
When with closed eyelids first he sank to sleep.”
4.415.529
So saying, an odour of ambrosial dew
4.415.530
She sheds around, and all his frame therewith
4.415.531
Steeps throughly; forth from his trim-combed locks
4.415.532
Breathed effluence sweet, and a lithe vigour leapt
4.415.533
Into his limbs. There is a cavern vast
4.415.534
Scooped in the mountain-side, where wave on wave
4.415.535
By the wind's stress is driven, and breaks far up
4.415.536
Its inmost creeks—safe anchorage from of old
4.415.537
For tempest-taken mariners: therewithin,
4.415.538
Behind a rock's huge barrier, Proteus hides.
4.415.539
Here in close covert out of the sun's eye
4.415.540
The youth she places, and herself the while
4.415.541
Swathed in a shadowy mist stands far aloof.
4.415.542
And now the ravening dog-star that burns up
4.415.543
The thirsty Indians blazed in heaven; his course
4.415.544
The fiery sun had half devoured: the blades
4.415.545
Were parched, and the void streams with droughty jaws
4.415.546
Baked to their mud-beds by the scorching ray,
4.415.547
When Proteus seeking his accustomed cave
4.415.548
Strode from the billows: round him frolicking
4.415.549
The watery folk that people the waste sea
4.415.550
Sprinkled the bitter brine-dew far and wide.
4.415.551
Along the shore in scattered groups to feed
4.415.552
The sea-calves stretch them: while the seer himself,
4.415.553
Like herdsman on the hills when evening bids
4.415.554
The steers from pasture to their stall repair,
4.415.555
And the lambs' bleating whets the listening wolves,
4.415.556
Sits midmost on the rock and tells his tale.
4.415.557
But Aristaeus, the foe within his clutch,
4.415.558
Scarce suffering him compose his aged limbs,
4.415.559
With a great cry leapt on him, and ere he rose
4.415.560
Forestalled him with the fetters; he nathless,
4.415.561
All unforgetful of his ancient craft,
4.415.562
Transforms himself to every wondrous thing,
4.415.563
Fire and a fearful beast, and flowing stream.
4.415.564
But when no trickery found a path for flight,
4.415.565
Baffled at length, to his own shape returned,
4.415.566
With human lips he spake, “Who bade thee, then,
4.415.567
So reckless in youth's hardihood, affront
4.415.568
Our portals? or what wouldst thou hence?”—But he,
4.415.569
“Proteus, thou knowest, of thine own heart thou knowest;
4.415.570
For thee there is no cheating, but cease thou
4.415.571
To practise upon me: at heaven's behest
4.415.572
I for my fainting fortunes hither come
4.415.573
An oracle to ask thee.” There he ceased.
4.415.574
Whereat the seer, by stubborn force constrained,
4.415.575
Shot forth the grey light of his gleaming eyes
4.415.576
Upon him, and with fiercely gnashing teeth
4.415.577
Unlocks his lips to spell the fates of heaven:
4.453.578
“Doubt not 'tis wrath divine that plagues thee thus,
4.453.579
Nor light the debt thou payest; 'tis Orpheus' self,
4.453.580
Orpheus unhappy by no fault of his,
4.453.581
So fates prevent not, fans thy penal fires,
4.453.582
Yet madly raging for his ravished bride.
4.453.583
She in her haste to shun thy hot pursuit
4.453.584
Along the stream, saw not the coming death,
4.453.585
Where at her feet kept ward upon the bank
4.453.586
In the tall grass a monstrous water-snake.
4.453.587
But with their cries the Dryad-band her peers
4.453.588
Filled up the mountains to their proudest peaks:
4.453.589
Wailed for her fate the heights of Rhodope,
4.453.590
And tall Pangaea, and, beloved of Mars,
4.453.591
The land that bowed to Rhesus, Thrace no less
4.453.592
With Hebrus' stream; and Orithyia wept,
4.453.593
Daughter of Acte old. But Orpheus' self,
4.453.594
Soothing his love-pain with the hollow shell,
4.453.595
Thee his sweet wife on the lone shore alone,
4.453.596
Thee when day dawned and when it died he sang.
4.453.597
Nay to the jaws of Taenarus too he came,
4.453.598
Of Dis the infernal palace, and the grove
4.453.599
Grim with a horror of great darkness—came,
4.453.600
Entered, and faced the Manes and the King
4.453.601
Of terrors, the stone heart no prayer can tame.
4.453.602
Then from the deepest deeps of Erebus,
4.453.603
Wrung by his minstrelsy, the hollow shades
4.453.604
Came trooping, ghostly semblances of forms
4.453.605
Lost to the light, as birds by myriads hie
4.453.606
To greenwood boughs for cover, when twilight-hour
4.453.607
Or storms of winter chase them from the hills;
4.453.608
Matrons and men, and great heroic frames
4.453.609
Done with life's service, boys, unwedded girls,
4.453.610
Youths placed on pyre before their fathers' eyes.
4.453.611
Round them, with black slime choked and hideous weed,
4.453.612
Cocytus winds; there lies the unlovely swamp
4.453.613
Of dull dead water, and, to pen them fast,
4.453.614
Styx with her ninefold barrier poured between.
4.453.615
Nay, even the deep Tartarean Halls of death
4.453.616
Stood lost in wonderment, and the Eumenides,
4.453.617
Their brows with livid locks of serpents twined;
4.453.618
Even Cerberus held his triple jaws agape,
4.453.619
And, the wind hushed, Ixion's wheel stood still.
4.453.620
And now with homeward footstep he had passed
4.453.621
All perils scathless, and, at length restored,
4.453.622
Eurydice to realms of upper air
4.453.623
Had well-nigh won, behind him following—
4.453.624
So Proserpine had ruled it—when his heart
4.453.625
A sudden mad desire surprised and seized—
4.453.626
Meet fault to be forgiven, might Hell forgive.
4.453.627
For at the very threshold of the day,
4.453.628
Heedless, alas! and vanquished of resolve,
4.453.629
He stopped, turned, looked upon Eurydice
4.453.630
His own once more. But even with the look,
4.453.631
Poured out was all his labour, broken the bond
4.453.632
Of that fell tyrant, and a crash was heard
4.453.633
Three times like thunder in the meres of hell.
4.494.634
‘Orpheus! what ruin hath thy frenzy wrought
4.494.635
On me, alas! and thee? Lo! once again
4.494.636
The unpitying fates recall me, and dark sleep
4.494.637
Closes my swimming eyes. And now farewell:
4.494.638
Girt with enormous night I am borne away,
4.494.639
Outstretching toward thee, thine, alas! no more,
4.494.640
These helpless hands.’ She spake, and suddenly,
4.494.641
Like smoke dissolving into empty air,
4.494.642
Passed and was sundered from his sight; nor him
4.494.643
Clutching vain shadows, yearning sore to speak,
4.494.644
Thenceforth beheld she, nor no second time
4.494.645
Hell's boatman brooks he pass the watery bar.
4.494.646
What should he do? fly whither, twice bereaved?
4.494.647
Move with what tears the Manes, with what voice
4.494.648
The Powers of darkness? She indeed even now
4.494.649
Death-cold was floating on the Stygian barge!
4.494.650
For seven whole months unceasingly, men say,
4.494.651
Beneath a skyey crag, by thy lone wave,
4.494.652
Strymon, he wept, and in the caverns chill
4.494.653
Unrolled his story, melting tigers' hearts,
4.494.654
And leading with his lay the oaks along.
4.494.655
As in the poplar-shade a nightingale
4.494.656
Mourns her lost young, which some relentless swain,
4.494.657
Spying, from the nest has torn unfledged, but she
4.494.658
Wails the long night, and perched upon a spray
4.494.659
With sad insistence pipes her dolorous strain,
4.494.660
Till all the region with her wrongs o'erflows.
4.494.661
No love, no new desire, constrained his soul:
4.494.662
By snow-bound Tanais and the icy north,
4.494.663
Far steppes to frost Rhipaean forever wed,
4.494.664
Alone he wandered, lost Eurydice
4.494.665
Lamenting, and the gifts of Dis ungiven.
4.494.666
Scorned by which tribute the Ciconian dames,
4.494.667
Amid their awful Bacchanalian rites
4.494.668
And midnight revellings, tore him limb from limb,
4.494.669
And strewed his fragments over the wide fields.
4.494.670
Then too, even then, what time the Hebrus stream,
4.494.671
Oeagrian Hebrus, down mid-current rolled,
4.494.672
Rent from the marble neck, his drifting head,
4.494.673
The death-chilled tongue found yet a voice to cry
4.494.674
‘Eurydice! ah! poor Eurydice!’
4.494.675
With parting breath he called her, and the banks
4.494.676
From the broad stream caught up ‘Eurydice!’”
4.528.677
So Proteus ending plunged into the deep,
4.528.678
And, where he plunged, beneath the eddying whirl
4.528.679
Churned into foam the water, and was gone;
4.528.680
But not Cyrene, who unquestioned thus
4.528.681
Bespake the trembling listener: “Nay, my son,
4.528.682
From that sad bosom thou mayst banish care:
4.528.683
Hence came that plague of sickness, hence the nymphs,
4.528.684
With whom in the tall woods the dance she wove,
4.528.685
Wrought on thy bees, alas! this deadly bane.
4.528.686
Bend thou before the Dell-nymphs, gracious powers:
4.528.687
Bring gifts, and sue for pardon: they will grant
4.528.688
Peace to thine asking, and an end of wrath.
4.528.689
But how to approach them will I first unfold—
4.528.690 707
Four chosen bulls of peerless form and bulk,
4.528.691
That browse to-day the green Lycaean heights,
4.528.692
Pick from thy herds, as many kine to match,
4.528.693
Whose necks the yoke pressed never: then for these
4.528.694
Build up four altars by the lofty fanes,
4.528.695
And from their throats let gush the victims' blood,
4.528.696
And in the greenwood leave their bodies lone.
4.528.697
Then, when the ninth dawn hath displayed its beams,
4.528.698
To Orpheus shalt thou send his funeral dues,
4.528.699
Poppies of Lethe, and let slay a sheep
4.528.700
Coal-black, then seek the grove again, and soon
4.528.701
For pardon found adore Eurydice
4.528.702
With a slain calf for victim.”
4.548.703
No delay:
4.548.704
The self-same hour he hies him forth to do
4.548.705
His mother's bidding: to the shrine he came,
4.548.706
The appointed altars reared, and thither led
4.548.690 707
Four chosen bulls of peerless form and bulk,
4.548.708
With kine to match, that never yoke had known;
4.548.709
Then, when the ninth dawn had led in the day,
4.548.710
To Orpheus sent his funeral dues, and sought
4.548.711
The grove once more. But sudden, strange to tell
4.548.712
A portent they espy: through the oxen's flesh,
4.548.713
Waxed soft in dissolution, hark! there hum
4.548.714
Bees from the belly; the rent ribs overboil
4.548.715
In endless clouds they spread them, till at last
4.548.716
On yon tree-top together fused they cling,
4.548.717
And drop their cluster from the bending boughs.
4.559.718
So sang I of the tilth of furrowed fields,
4.559.719
Of flocks and trees, while Caesar's majesty
4.559.720
Launched forth the levin-bolts of war by deep
4.559.721
Euphrates, and bare rule o'er willing folk
4.559.722
Though vanquished, and essayed the heights of heaven.
4.559.723
I Virgil then, of sweet Parthenope
4.559.724
The nursling, wooed the flowery walks of peace
4.559.725
Inglorious, who erst trilled for shepherd-wights
4.559.726
The wanton ditty, and sang in saucy youth
4.559.727
Thee, Tityrus, 'neath the spreading beech tree's shade.