Part 11

Detesting riches, now in woods he lives, And rural dales; with Pan, who still resorts To mountain caverns. Still his soul remains Stupidly dull; the folly of his breast Was doom'd to harm its owner as before.

High Tmolus rears with steep ascent his head, O'erlooking distant ocean; wide he spreads His bounds abrupt; confin'd by Sardis here, By small Hypæpé there. Upon his top, While Pan in boastful strain the tender nymphs Pleas'd with his notes, and on his wax-join'd reeds A paltry ditty play'd; boldly he dar'd To place his own above Apollo's song. The god to try th' unequal strife descends; Tmolus the umpire. On his mountain plac'd, The ancient judge from his attentive ears The branches clear'd; save that his azure head With oak was crown'd, and acorns dangling down His hollow temples grac'd. The shepherd's god Beholding,--"no delay, your judge,"--he said-- "Shall cause,"--and straight Pan sounds the rural reeds. His barbarous music much the judgment pleas'd Of Midas, who amidst the crowd approach'd. Now venerable Tmolus on the face Of Phoebus turn'd his eyes; and with him turn'd Th' attentive woods. Parnassian laurel bound His golden locks; deep dipt in Tyrian dye, His garment swept the ground; his left hand held The instrument with gems and ivory rich; The other grasp'd the bow: his posture shew'd The skilful master's art: lightly he touch'd The chords with thumb experienc'd. Justly charm'd With melody so sweet, Tmolus decreed The pipe of Pan to Phoebus' lute should yield.

Much did the judgment of the sacred hill, And much his sentence all delight, save one: For Midas blames him, and unjust declares The arbitration. Human shape no more The god permits his foolish ears to wear; But long extends them, and with hoary hairs Fills them within; and grants them power to move, From their foundation flexile. All beside Was man, one part felt his revenge alone; A slowly pacing asses ears he bears. His head, weigh'd heavy with his load of shame, He strove in purple turban to enfold; Thus his disgrace to hide. But when as wont His slave his hairs, unseemly lengthen'd, cropp'd, He saw the change; the tale he fear'd to tell, Of what he witness'd, though he anxious wish'd In public to proclaim it: yet to hold Sacred the trust surpass'd his power. He went Forth, and digg'd up the earth; with whispering voice There he imparted of his master's ears What he had seen; and murmur'd to the sod: But bury'd close the confidential words Beneath the turf again: then, all fill'd up, Silently he departed. From the spot Began a thick-grown tuft of trembling reeds To spring, which ripening with the year's full round, Betray'd their planter. By the light south wind When agitated, they the bury'd words Disclos'd, betraying what the monarch's ears. Latona's son, aveng'd, high Tmolus leaves, And cleaving liquid air, lights in the realm Laömedon commands: on the strait sea, Nephelian Hellé names, an altar stands Sacred to Panomphæan Jove, where seen Lofty Rhætæum rises to the left, Sigæum to the right. From thence he saw Laömedon, as first he toil'd to build The walls of infant Troy; with toil immense The undertaking in progression grew, And mighty sums he saw the work would ask. A mortal shape he takes; a mortal shape Clothes too the trident-bearing sire, who rules The swelling deep. The Phrygian monarch's walls They raise, a certain treasure for their toil Agreed on first. The work is finished. Base, The king disowns the compact, and his lies Perfidious, backs with perjury.--"Boast not "This treatment calmly borne," the ocean's god Exclaim'd; and o'er the sordid Trojan's shores Pour'd all his flood of billows; and transform'd The land to sheets of water; swept away The tiller's treasure; bury'd all the meads. Nor sated with this ruin, he demands The monarch's daughter should be given a prey To an huge monster of the main; whom, chain'd To the hard rock, Alcides' arm set free, And claim'd the boon his due; the promis'd steeds. Refus'd the prize his valorous deed deserv'd, He sack'd the walls of doubly-perjur'd Troy, Nor thence did Telamon, whose powerful arm The hero aided, unrewarded go; Hesioné was by Alcides given.

Peleus was famous for his goddess-spouse: Proud not more justly of his grandsire's fame, Than of his consort's father; numbers more Might boast them grandsons of imperial Jove; To him alone a goddess-bride belong'd. For aged Proteus had to Thetis said,-- "O, goddess of the waves, a child conceive! "Thou shalt be mother of a youth, whose deeds "Will far the bravest of his sire's transcend: "And mightier than his sire's shall be his name." Hence, lest the world than Jove a mightier god Should know, though Jove with amorous flames fierce burn'd, He shunn'd th' embraces of the watery dame: And bade his grandson Peleus to his hopes Succeed, and clasp the virgin in his arms.

Hæmonia's coast a bay possesses, curv'd Like a bent bow; whose arms enclosing stretch Far in the sea; where if more deep the waves An haven would be form'd: the waters spread Just o'er the sand. Firm is the level shore; Such as would ne'er the race retard, nor hold The print of feet; no seaweed there was spread. Nigh sprung a grove of myrtle, cover'd thick With double-teinted berries: in the midst A cave appear'd, by art or nature form'd; But art most plain was seen. Here, Thetis! oft, Plac'd unattir'd on thy rein'd dolphin's back, Thou didst delight to come. There, as thou laid'st In slumbers bound, did Peleus on thee seize. And when his most endearing prayers were spurn'd, Force he prepar'd; both arms around thy neck Close clasp'd. And then to thy accustom'd arts, Of often-varied-form, hadst thou not fled, He might have prosper'd in his daring hope. But now a bird thou wert; the bird he held: Now an huge tree; Peleus the tree grasp'd firm: A spotted tiger then thy third-chang'd shape; Frighted at that, Æäcides his hold Quit from her body. Then the ocean powers He worshipp'd, pouring wine upon the waves, And bleating victims slew, and incense burn'd: Till from the gulf profound the prophet spoke Of Carpathus. "O, Peleus! gain thou shalt "The wish'd-for nuptials; only when she rests "In the cool cavern sleeping, thou with cords "And fetters strong her, unsuspecting, bind; "Nor let an hundred shapes thy soul deceive; "Still hold her fast whatever form she wears, "Till in her pristine looks she shines again." This Proteus said, and plung'd his head beneath The waves, while scarce his final words were heard.

Prone down the west was Titan speeding now; And to th' Hesperian waves his car inclin'd, When the fair Nereïd from the wide deep came, And sought her 'custom'd couch. Scarce Peleus seiz'd Her virgin limbs, when straight a thousand forms She try'd, till fast she saw her members ty'd; And her arms fetter'd close in every part: Then sigh'd, and said; "thou conquerest by some god:" And the fair form of Thetis was display'd. The hero clasp'd her, and his wishes gain'd; And great Achilles straight the nymph conceiv'd.

Now blest was Peleus in his son and bride; And blest in all which can to man belong; Save in the crime of murder'd Phocus. Driven From his paternal home, of brother's blood Guilty, Trachinia's soil receiv'd him first. Here Ceÿx, Phosphor's offspring, who retain'd His father's splendor on his forehead, rul'd The land; which knew not bloodshed, knew not force. At that time gloomy, sad, himself unlike, He mourn'd a brother's loss. To him, fatigu'd With travel, and with care worn out, the son Of Æäcus arriv'd; and in the town Enter'd with followers few: the flocks and herds That journey'd with him, just without the walls, In a dark vale were left. When the first grant T'approach the monarch was obtain'd, he rais'd The olive in his suppliant hand; then told His name, and lineage, but his crime conceal'd. His cause of flight dissembling, next he beg'd, For him and his, some pastures and a town. Then thus Trachinia's king with friendly brow: "To all, the very meanest of mankind, "Are our possessions free; nor do I rule "A realm inhospitable: add to these "Inducements strong, thine own illustrious name, "And grandsire Jove. In praying lose not time. "Whate'er thou wouldst, thou shalt receive; and all, "Such as it is, with me most freely share; "Would it were better." Speaking thus, he wept: His cause of grief to Peleus and his friends, Anxious enquiring, then the monarch told.

"Perchance this bird, which by fierce rapine lives, "Dread of the feather'd tribe, you think still wings "Possess'd. Once man, he bore a noble soul; "Though stern, and rough in war, and fond of blood. "His name Dædalion: from the sire produc'd "Who calls Aurora forth, and last of stars "Relinquishes the sky. Peace my delight; "Peace to preserve was still my care: my joys "I shar'd in Hymen's bonds. Fierce wars alone, "My brother pleas'd. His valor then o'erthrew "Monarchs and nations, who, in alter'd form, "Drives now Thisbæan pigeons through the air. "His daughter Chioné, in beauty rich, "For marriage ripe, now fourteen years had seen; "And numerous suitors with her charms were fir'd. "It chanc'd that Phoebus once, and Maiä's son, "Returning from his favorite Delphos this, "That from Cyllené's top, together saw "The nymph,--together felt the amorous flame. "Apollo his warm hopes till night defers; "But Hermes brooks delay not: with his rod, "Compelling sleep, he strokes the virgin's face; "Beneath the potent touch she sinks, and yields "Without resistance to his amorous force. "Night spread o'er heaven the stars, when Phoebus took "A matron's form, and seiz'd fore-tasted joys. "When its full time the womb matur'd had seen, "Autolycus was born; the crafty seed "Of the wing'd-footed god; acute of thought "To every shade of theft; from his sire's art "Degenerate nought; white he was wont to make "Appear as black; and black from white produce. "Philammon, famous with the lyre and song, "Was born to Phoebus (twins the nymph brought forth). "But where the benefit that two she bears? "Where that the favorite of two gods she boasts? "What that a valiant sire she claims? and claims "As ancestor the mighty thundering god? "Is it that glory such as this still harms? "Certain it hurtful prov'd to her, who dar'd "Herself prefer to Dian', and despise "The goddess' beauty; fierce in ire she cry'd,-- "At least I'll try to make my actions please.-- "Nor stay'd; the bow she bent, and from the cord "Impell'd the dart; through her deserving tongue "The reed was sent. Mute straight that tongue became; "Nor sound, nor what she try'd to utter, heard: "Striving to speak, life flow'd with flowing blood. "What woe (O hapless piety!) oppress'd "My heart! What solace to her tender sire "I spoke; my solace just the same he heard, "As rocks hear murmuring waves. But still he moan'd "For his lost child; but when the flames he saw "Ascending, four times 'mid the funeral fires "He strove to plunge; four times from thence repuls'd, "His rapid limbs address'd for flight, and rush'd "Like a young bullock, when the hornet's sting "Deep in his neck he bears, in pathless ways. "Ev'n now more swift than man he seem'd to run: "His feet seem'd wings to wear, for all behind "He left far distant. Through desire of death, "Rapid he gain'd Parnassus' loftiest ridge. "Apollo, pitying, when Dædalion flung "From the high rock his body, to a bird "Transform'd him, and on sudden pinions bore "Him floating: bended hooks he gave his claws, "And gave a crooked beak; valor as wont; "And strength more great than such a body shews. "Now as an hawk, to every bird a foe, "He wages war on all; and griev'd himself, "He constant cause for others grief affords."

While these miraculous deeds bright Phosphor's sob Tells of his brother, Peleus' herdsman comes, Phocian Anetor, flying, and, with speed Breathless, "O Peleus! Peleus!" he exclaims, "Of horrid slaughter messenger I come!" Him Peleus bids, whate'er he brings, to speak; Trachinia's monarch even with friendly dread Trembles the news to hear. When thus the man: "The weary cattle to the curving shore "I'd driv'n, when Sol from loftiest heaven might view "His journey half perform'd, while half remain'd. "Part of the oxen on the yellow sand, "On their knees bending view'd the spacious plain "Of wide-spread waters; part with loitering pace "Stray'd here, and thither; others swam and rear'd "Their lofty necks above the waves. There stood "Close to the sea a temple, where nor gold, "Nor polish'd marble shone; but rear'd with trees "Thick-pil'd, it gloom'd within an ancient grove. "This, Nereus and the Nereïd nymphs possess. "A fisherman, as on the shore he dry'd "His nets, inform'd us these the temple own'd. "A marsh joins near the fane, with willows thick "Beset, which waves o'erflowing first has form'd. "A wolf from thence, a beast of monstrous bulk, "Thundering with mighty clash, with terror struck "The neighbouring spots: then from the marshy woods "Sprung out; his jaws terrific, smear'd with foam "And clotted gore; his eyes with red flames glar'd. "Mad though he rag'd with ire and famine both, "Famine less strong appear'd; for his dire maw "And craving hunger, he not car'd to fill "With the slain oxen; wounding all the herd: "All hostile overthrowing. Some of us, "Ranch'd by his deadly tooth, to death were sent "Defence attempting. The shore and marsh "With bellowings echoing, and the ocean's edge "Redden with blood. But ruinous, delay! "For hesitation leisure is not now. "While ought remains, let all together join; "Arm! arm! and on him hurl united spears." The herdsman ceas'd, Peleus the loss not mov'd; But conscious of his fault, infers the plague Sent by the childless Nereïd to avenge Her slaughter'd Phocus' loss. Yet Ceÿx bids His warriors arm, and take their forceful darts; With them prepar'd to issue: but his spouse Alcyöné, rous'd by the tumult, sprung Forth from her chamber; unadorn'd her locks, Which scatter'd hung around her. Ceÿx' neck Clasping, she begg'd with moving words and tears, Aid he would send, but go not; thus preserve Two lives in one. Then Peleus to the queen; "Banish your laudable and duteous fears. "For what the king intended, thanks are due. "Arms 'gainst this novel plague I will not take: "Prayers must the goddess of the deep appease."

A lofty tower there stood, whose summit bore A beacon; grateful object to the sight Of weary mariners. Thither they mount, And see with sighs the herd strew'd o'er the beach; The monster ravaging with gory jaw, And his long shaggy hairs in blood bedy'd. Thence Peleus, stretching to the wide sea shore His arms, to Psamathé cerulean pray'd, To finish there her rage, and grant relief. Unmov'd she heard Æäcides implore: But Thetis, suppliant, from the goddess gain'd The favor for her spouse. Uncheck'd, the wolf The furious slaughter quits not, fierce the more From the sweet taste of blood, till to a stone Transform'd, as on a bull's torn neck he hung. His form remains; and, save his color, all; The color only shews him wolf no more: And shews no terror he shall now inspire.

Still in this realm the angry fates deny'd Peleus to stay; exil'd, he wander'd on, And reach'd Magnesia: from Acastus there Thessalian, expiation he receiv'd.

Ceÿx meantime, with anxious doubts disturb'd; First with the prodigy, his brother's change, Then those which follow'd; to the Clarian god Prepar'd to go, the oracles to seek, Which sweetly solace men's uneasy minds. Delphos was inaccessible; the road Phorbas prophane, with all his Phlegians barr'd. Yet first Alcyöné, most faithful spouse! He tells thee of his purpose. Instant seiz'd A death-like coldness on her inmost heart: A boxen paleness o'er her features spread; And down her cheeks the tears in torrents roll'd. Thrice she attempted words, but thrice her tears Her words prevented; then her pious plaints, Broken by interrupted sobs, she spoke. "My dearest lord! what hapless fault of mine "Thy soul has alter'd? Where that love for me "Thou wont'st to shew? Canst thou now unconcern'd "Depart, and leave Alcyöné behind? "Glads thee this tedious journey? Am I lov'd "Most dearly farthest absent? Yet by land "Was all thy journey, then I should but grieve, "Not tremble: sighs would then of fears take place. "The sea, the dread appearance of the main, "Me terrifies. But lately I beheld "Torn planks bestrew the shore: and oft I've read "On empty tombs, the names of dead inscrib'd. "Let not fallacious confidence thy mind "Mislead, that Æölus I call my sire; "Who binds the furious winds in caves, and smoothes "At will the ocean. No! when issu'd once, "They sweep the main, no power of his can rule: "And uncontroll'd they ravage all the land: "Nor checks them aught on ocean. Clouds of heaven, "They clash; and ruddy lightnings hurl along "In fierce encounter. More their force I know, "(For well I knew, and oft have mark'd their power, "While yet an infant at my sire's abode,) "The more I deem them such as should be fear'd. "Yet dearest spouse, if thy firm-fixt resolve "No prayers can change, and obstinate thou stand'st "For sailing, let me also with thee go: "Together then the buffeting we'll bear. "Then shall I fear but what I suffer; then "Whate'er we suffer we'll together feel: "Together sailing o'er the boundless main."

Her words and tears the star-born husband mov'd; For less of love he felt not. Yet his scheme To voyage o'er the deep he could not change; Nor yet consent Alcyöné should share His peril: and with soothing soft replies, He try'd to calm her timid breast. Nor yet Himself approv'd the arguments he try'd, His consort to persuade consent to yield To his departure. This at length he adds As solace, which alone her bosom mov'd. "All absence tedious seems; but by the fires "My father bears, I swear, if fates permit, "Returning, thou shalt see me, ere the moon "Shall twice have fill'd her orb." Hope in her breast Thus rais'd by promise of a quick return, Instant the vessel, from the dock drawn forth, He bids them launch in ocean, and complete In all her stores and tackling. This beheld Alcyöné; and, presaging again Woes of the future, trembled, and a flood Of tears again gush'd forth; again she clasp'd His neck; at length, as, wretched wife, she cry'd,-- "Farewell" she, swooning, lifeless sunk to earth.

The rowers now, while Ceÿx sought delays, To their strong breasts the double-ranking oars Drew back, and cleft with equal stroke the surge. Her humid eyes she rais'd, and first beheld Her husband standing on the crooked poop, Waving his hand as signal; she his sign Return'd. When farther from the land they shot, Her straining eyes no more indulg'd to know His features; still, while yet they could, her eyes Pursu'd the flying vessel. This at length Increasing distance her forbade to see; Still she perceiv'd the floating sails, which spread From the mast's loftiest summit. Sails at length Were also lost in distance: then she sought Anxious her widow'd chamber; and her limbs Threw on the couch. The bed, the vacant space, Renew'd her tears, reminding of her loss.

Now far from port they'd sail'd, when the strong ropes The breeze began to strain; the rowers turn Their oars, and lash them to the vessel's side; Hoist to the mast's extremest height their yards; And loose their sails to catch the coming breeze. Scarce half, not more than half, the sea's extent The vessel now had plough'd; and either land Was distant far; when, as dim night approach'd, The sea seem'd foaming white with rising waves; And the strong East more furious 'gan to blow. Long had the master cry'd,--"Lower down your yards, "And close furl every sail!"--he bids; the storm Adverse, impedes the sound; the roaring waves Drown every voice in noise. Yet some, untold, Haste to secure the oars; part bind the sails; Part fortify the sides: this water laves, Ejecting seas on seas; that lowers the yards. While thus they toil unguided, rough the storm Increases; from each quarter furious winds Wage warfare, and with mounting billows join. Trembles the ruler of the bark, and owns His state; he knows not what he should command, Nor what forbid; so swift the sudden storm; So much more strong the tempest than his skill. Men clamorous shout; cords rattle; mighty waves Roar, on waves rushing; thunders roll through air; In billows mounts the ocean, and appears To meet the sky, and o'er the hanging clouds Sprinkles its foam. Now from the lowest depths, As yellow sands they turn, the billows shine; Now blacker seem they than the Stygian waves; Now flatten'd, all with spumy froth is spread. The ship Trachinian too, each rapid change In agitation heaves; now rais'd sublime The deepen'd vale she views as from a ridge So lofty: down to Acheron's low depths, Now in the hollow of the wave she falls, And views th' o'erhanging heaven from hell's deep gulf. Oft bursting on her side with loud report The billows sound; nor with less fury beat Than the balista, or huge battering ram, Driv'n on the tottering fort: or lions fierce, Whose strength and rage increasing with their speed, Rush on the armour'd breast and outstretch'd spear. So rush'd the waves with wind-propelling power High o'er the decks; and 'bove the rigging rose.

Now shook the wedges; open rents appear'd, The pitchy covering gone, and wide-display'd, A passage opens to the deadly flood. Then from the breaking clouds fell torrent showers; All heaven seem'd sweeping down to swell the main; And the swol'n main, ascending to invade Celestial regions, soak'd with floods each sail: And ocean's briny waters mix'd with rain. No light the firmament possess'd, and night Frown'd blacker through the tempest. Lightning oft Reft the thick gloom, and gave a brilliant blaze; And while the lightnings flame the waters burn.

Now o'er the vessel's cover'd deck the waves High tower; and as a soldier, braver far Than all his fellows, urg'd by thirst of fame, (The well-defended walls to scale oft try'd,) At length his hope obtains, and singly keeps His post, by foes on every side assail'd: So when the furious billows raging beat The lofty side, the tenth impetuous rears Above the rest, and forceful rushes on; The battery ceasing not on the spent bark, Till o'er the wall, as of a captur'd town, Downward it rushes. Part without invade, And part are lodg'd within. In terror all In trembling panic stand: not more the crowd Which fill a city's walls, when foes without Mine their foundations; while an entrance gain'd Within, part rage already. Art no more Can aid; all courage droops; as many deaths Seem rapid rushing as the billows break. This wails in tears his fate; that stupid stands; This calls those blest whom funeral rites await: One to his deity rich offerings vows, And vainly stretching forth to heaven his arms, The heaven he sees not, begs for aid: his friends, Brethren and parents, fill of this the mind; Of that his children, or whate'er he leaves.

Alcyöné, alone in Ceÿx' soul Found place; and but Alcyöné, his lips Nought utter'd. Her alone he wish'd to see; Yet joy'd she far was absent. Much he long'd To view once more his dear paternal shores; And turn his last looks tow'rd his regal dome: But where to turn he knows not; in a whirl So boils the sea; and all the heaven is hid In shade, by more than pitchy clouds produc'd: Night doubly darken'd. Now the whirlwind's force Shivers the mast, and tears the helm away: And like a victor, proud to view his spoils, Mounts an high wave, and scornfully beholds The lower billows; thundering down it sweeps, Impell'd by force that Athos might o'erturn, Or Pindus, from their roots; and plunge in sea. Down in the lowest depths, the weight and blow Bury'd the vessel; with her most the crew Sunk in the raging gulf: some met their fate, Ne'er to return to air: some floated still; To splinter'd fragments of the bark they clung. Ceÿx himself, grasp'd only in that hand A shatter'd plank, which once a sceptre held; And Æölus and Phosphor' call'd in vain: But chiefly from his lips was, as he swam, Alcyöné resounded; that lov'd name Remember'd constant, and repeated most. He prays the billows may his body bear To meet her eyes; and prays her friendly hands His burial may perform. While thus he swims, Alcyöné he names, whene'er the waves To gasp for breath permit him; and beneath The billows, tries Alcyöné to sound. Lo! a black towering arch of waters broke Midst of the surges; in the boiling foam Involv'd, o'erwhelm'd he sunk. That mournful night Was Phosphor' dark, impalpable to view: And since stern fate to heaven his post fast bound, He veil'd in densest clouds his grieving face.

Meantime Alcyöné her height of woe Unknown, counts each sad night, and now with haste The garments he should wear prepares; and now Those to adorn herself when him she meets; Cherishing emptiest hopes of his return. Devoutest offerings to the heavenly powers She bore; but incense far before the rest On Juno's altar burn'd; and oft she pray'd For him who was not. For his safety pray'd; For his return; and that his love might still Without a rival hers remain: the last Of all her ardent prayers indulgence found. But longer bore the goddess not to hear Such vain petitions for the dead; these hands Polluted, from her altars to remove, To Iris thus she spoke:--"O, faithful maid! "Most trusty messenger, with speed repair "To Somnus' drowsy hall; him bid to send "A vision form'd in lifeless Ceÿx' shape "To tell Alcyöné her woes' extent." She ended: in her various-teinted robe Attir'd, and spreading o'er the spacious heaven Her sweeping arch, Iris the dwelling sought The goddess order'd. Hid beneath a steep Near the Cimmerians, in a deep dug cave, Form'd in a hollow mountain, stands the hall And secret dwelling of inactive sleep; Where Phoebus rising, or in mid-day height, Or setting-radiance, ne'er can dart his beams. Clouds with dim darkness mingled, from the ground Exhale, and twilight makes a doubtful day. The watchful bird, with crested head, ne'er calls Aurora with his song; no wakeful dog, Nor goose more wakeful, e'er the silence breaks; No savage beasts, no pastur'd flocks, no boughs Shook by the breeze; no brawl of human voice There sounds: but death-like silence reigns around. Yet from the rock's foundation, gently flows A stream of Lethe's water, whose dull waves In gentle murmuring o'er the pebbles purl, Tempting to slumber. At the cavern door The fruitful poppy, and ten thousand plants, From which moist night the drowsy juices drains, Then scatters o'er the shady earth, grew thick. Round all the house no gate was seen, which, turn'd On the dry hinge should creak; no centry strict The threshold to protect. But in the midst The lofty bed of ebon form'd, was plac'd. Black were the feathers; all the coverings black, And stretch'd at length the god was seen; his limbs With lassitude relax'd. Around him throng'd In every part, vain dreams, in various forms, In number more than what the harvest bears Of bearded grains; the woods of verdant leaves; Or shore of yellow sands. Here came the nymph; Th' opposing dreams push'd sideways with her hands, And through the sacred mansion from her robe Scatter'd refulgent light. With pain the god, His eyelids weigh'd with slothful torpor, rais'd; But at each effort down they sunk again: And on his breast his nodding chin still smote. At length he rous'd him from his drowsy state; And, on his elbow resting, ask'd the nymph, For well he knew her, why she thither came. Then she--"O Somnus! peaceful rest of all! "Somnus! most placid of immortal powers; "Calm of the soul; whom care for ever flies; "Who soothest bosoms, with diurnal toil "Fatigu'd; and renovat'st for toil again; "Dispatch a vision to Trachinia's town, "(By great Alcides founded,) in the form "Its hapless monarch bore: let it display "The lively image of her husband's wreck, "To sad Alcyöné. This Juno bids."-- Iris, her message thus deliver'd, turn'd: For more the soporific mist, which rose Around, she bore not; soon as sleep she felt Stealing upon her limbs, abrupt she fled, Mounting the bow by which she glided down.

The drowsy sire, from 'midst a thousand sons, Calls Morpheus forth, an artful god, who well All shapes can feign. None copies else so close The bidden gait, the features, and the mode Of converse; vesture too the same he wears, And language such as most they wont to speak. Mankind alone he imitates. To seem Fierce beasts, and birds, and long-extended snakes Another claims: this Icelos the gods Have nam'd; by mortals as Photebor known. A third is Phantasus of different skill; His change is happiest when he earth becomes, Or rocks, or waves, or trees, or substance aught That animation lacks. These shew their forms By night to mighty heroes and to kings; The rest before th' ignobler crowd perform. All these the ancient Somnus pass'd, and chose Morpheus alone from all his brethren crowd, The deed Thaumantian Iris bade, to do; Then, weigh'd with slumber, dropp'd again his head, And shrunk once more within the sable couch.

He flies through darkness on unrustling wings, And short the space, ere in Trachinia's town He lights; and from his shoulders lays aside His pinions; when he Ceÿx' form assumes. In Ceÿx' ghastly shape pallid he stood, Despoil'd of garments, at the widow'd bed Of the sad queen: soak'd was his beard, and streams Seem'd from his heavy dripping locks to flow. Then leaning o'er the couch, while gushing tears O'erspread his cheeks, he thus his wife bespoke;-- "Know'st thou thy Ceÿx, wretched, wretched wife? "Or are my features chang'd by death? Again "View me, and here behold thy husband's shade, "Instead of husband: all thy pious prayers "For me, Alcyöné, were vain. I'm lost! "No more false hopes encourage, me to see. "The showery southwind, on th' Ægean main, "Seiz'd on our vessel, and with mighty blast "Shiver'd it wide in fragments; and the waves "Rush'd in my throat as loud thy name I call'd; "But call'd in vain. No doubtful author brings "To thee these tidings; no vague rumor this, "In person I relate it. Shipwreck'd I, "My fate to thee detail. Rise, and assist! "Pour forth thy tears; in sable garments clothe; "Nor send my ghost to wander undeplor'd, "In shady Tartarus." Thus Morpheus spoke; And in such accents, that the queen, deceiv'd, Believ'd her husband spoke. Adown his cheeks Seem'd real tears to flow; and even his hand With Ceÿx' motion mov'd. Deeply she groan'd, Ev'n in her sleep, and rais'd her longing arms To clasp his body; empty air she clasp'd: Exclaiming;--"stay; O whither dost thou fly? "Together let us hence!"--Rous'd with the noise, And spectre of her spouse; sleep fled her eyes, And round she cast her gaze for that to seek Which she but now beheld. Wak'd by her voice, Her slaves approach'd with lights; but when in vain She search'd for what she lack'd, her face she struck; Rent from her breasts her garments; beat her breasts Themselves: nor stay'd her twisted hair to loose, But tore the bands away; then to her nurse Anxious the subject of her grief to learn-- "Alcyöné,"--she cries--"is now no more! "She with her Ceÿx in one moment fell. "Hence with your soothing words; shipwreck'd he dy'd. "I saw; I knew him; as he fled me, stretch'd "My arms to hold the fugitive.--Ah! no! "The shadow fled, 'twas but his ghost; but shade "My husband mere resembling ne'er was form'd. "Yet had he not his wonted looks, nor shone "In former brightness his beloved face. "I saw him, hapless stand with pallid cheek, "Naked, with tresses dropping still. Lo! here "Wretched he stood, just on the spot I point:"-- Then anxious try'd his footmarks there to trace.-- "This did my mind foreboding fear; I pray'd "When me thou fled'st, the winds thou would'st not trust: "But since to sure destruction forth thou went'st, "Would that by me companion'd thou had'st gone. "With thee my bliss had been;--with thee to go. "Unwasted then one moment of the space "For life allow'd; not ev'n in death disjoin'd. "But now I perish, and upon the waves, "Though absent, float; the main me overwhelms, "Though from the main far distant. Mental storms "To me more cruel were than ocean's waves, "Should I but longer seek to spin out life, "And combat such deep grief? I will not strive "Nor wretched thee desert; but now, though late, "Now will I join thee; and the funeral verse "Shall us unite; not in the self-same urn, "Yet in the self-same tomb; bones join'd with bones, "Allow'd not, yet shall name with name be seen."-- The rest by grief was chok'd, and sounding blows Each sentence interrupted; while deep groans Burst from her raving bosom. Morning shone, And forth she issu'd to the shore, and sought In grief the spot, where last his face she view'd Departing. "Here,"--she said,--"as slow he went, "As slow he loos'd his cables; on this beach "The parting kiss he gave." While her mind's eye Retraces every circumstance, she looks, And something sees far floating on the waves, Not much unlike a man: dubious at first What it may be, she views it: nearer now The billows drive it; and though distant still, Plain to the eye a body was descry'd. Whose body, witless, still a shipwreck'd wretch With boding omen mov'd her; and in tears She wail'd him as a stranger in these plaints.-- "Unhappy wretch! whoe'er thou art; and she "Thy wife, if wife thou had'st"--but now the surge More near the body bore. The more she views Nearer the corps; the more her senses fly. And now close driven to shore it floats, and now Well she discern'd it was, it was--her spouse! "'Tis he!"--she loudly shriek'd, and tore her face, Her hair, her garments. Then her trembling arms To Ceÿx stretching; "Dearest husband!"--cry'd. "Art thou restor'd thus to my wretched breast?"

High-rais'd by art, adjoining to the beach A mole was form'd, which broke the primal strength Of ocean's fury, and the fierce waves tir'd. Hither she sprung, and, wond'rous that she could! She flew; the light air winnowing with her wings New-sprung; a mournful bird she skimm'd along The water's surface. As she flies, her beak Slender and small, a creaking noise sends forth, Of mournful sound, and full of sad complaint. Soon as the silent bloodless corse she reach'd, Around his dear-lov'd limbs her wings she clasp'd, And gave cold kisses with her horny bill. If Ceÿx felt them, or his head was rais'd To meet her by the waves, th' unlearned doubt. But sure he felt them. Both at length, the gods Commisserating, chang'd to feather'd birds. The same their love remains, and subject still To the same fates; and in the plumag'd pair The nuptial bond is sacred; join'd in one Parents they soon become; and Halcyon sits Sev'n peaceful days 'mid winter's keenest rule Upon her floating nest. Safe then the main: For Æölus with watchful care the winds Guards, and prevents their egress; and the seas Smooths for the offspring, with a grandsire's care.

These, as they skimm'd the surface of the main, An ancient sire beheld, and prais'd their love: Constant in death: his neighbour or himself Also repeats;--the bird which there you see, Brushing the ocean with his slender legs, (And shews a corm'rant with his spacious maw) A monarch's offspring was; would you descend Through the long series, 'till to him you reach; Ilus; Assaracus; and Ganymede, Borne up to heaven by Jove, supply'd the stock From whence he sprung; Laömedon the old; And Priam doom'd to end his days with Troy. Hector his brother; but in spring of youth He felt this strange adventure, he perchance As Hector's might have left a towering name: Though from old Dymas' daughter Hector sprung. Fair Alixirrhoë, so fame reports, Daughter of two-horn'd Granicus, brought forth, By stealth, Æsacus 'neath thick Ida's shade. Wall'd cities he detested; and remote From glittering palaces, secluded hills Inhabited, and unambitious plains; And scarce at Troy's assemblies e'er was seen. Yet had he not a clownish heart, nor breast To love impregnable. By chance he saw Cebrenus' daughter, fair Hesperië--oft By him through every shady wood pursu'd-- As on her father's banks her tresses, spread Adown her back, in Phoebus' rays she dry'd. The nymph, discover'd, fled. So rapid flies Th' affrighted stag to 'scape the tawny Wolf; Or duck, stream-loving, from the hawk, when caught, Far from her wonted lakes. The Trojan youth Quick follows, swift through hope; she swift through fear. Lo! in the herbage hid, her flying foot With crooked fang a serpent bit, and pour'd O'er all her limbs the poison: with her flight Her life was stopp'd. Frantic, he clasps her form Now lifeless, and exclaims--"how grieve I now, "That e'er I thee pursu'd; not this I fear'd! "How mean my conquest, bought at such a price! "Both, hapless nymph! in thy destruction join'd: "I gave the cause, the serpent but the wound. "I guiltier far than he, unless my death "Shall thine avenge."--He said, and in the main, From an high rock, by hoarsely-roaring waves Deep-worn beneath, prepar'd to plunge. Receiv'd By pitying Tethys softly in his fall, She clothes him, as he swims the main, with wings; And death, so much desir'd, denies him still. The lover, furious at th' unwelcome gift Of life upon him forc'd, and his pent soul, Bent on escaping from its hated seat Confin'd, soon as the new-shot plumes he felt Spring from his shoulders, up he flew, and plunged Again his body in the depths below: His feathers broke his fall. Æsacus rav'd, And deeply div'd; with headlong fury still, And endless perseverance death he sought. Love keeps him meagre still; from joint to joint His legs still longer grow; his outstretch'd neck Is long; and distant far his head is plac'd. He loves the ocean, and the name he bears, From constant diving, seems correctly giv'n.

*The Twelfth Book.*

Rape of Helen. Expedition of the Greeks against Troy. House of Fame. The Trojan war. Combat of Achilles and Cygnus. The latter slain and transformed to a swan. Story of Cæneus. Fight of the Lapithæ and Centaurs. Change of Cæneus to a bird. Contest of Hercules with Periclymenos. Death of Achilles. Dispute for his arms.

THE *Twelfth Book* OF THE METAMORPHOSES OF OVID.

Priam the sire, much mourn'd, to him unknown That still his son, on pinions borne, surviv'd: While Hector and his brethren round the tomb, A name alone possessing, empty rites Perform'd. Save Paris, from the solemn scene None absent were; he with the ravish'd wife Brought to his shores a long protracted war. Quick was he follow'd by confederate ships Ten hundred, and the whole Pelasgian race. Nor had their vengeance borne so long delay, But adverse raging tempests made the main Impassable; and on Boeotia's shores, In Aulis' port th' impatient vessels bound.

Here, while the Greeks the rites of Jove prepare, Their country's custom, as the altar blaz'd, They saw an azure serpent writhe around A plane, which near the altar rear'd its boughs. Its lofty summit held a nest; within Eight callow birds were lodg'd; on these he seiz'd, And seiz'd the mother, who, with trembling wings, Hover'd around her loss, all burying deep Within his greedy maw. All stare with dread. But Thestor's son, prophetic truths who still Beheld, exclaim'd--"Rejoice! O Greeks, rejoice! "Conquest is ours, and lofty Troy must fall. "But great our toil, and tedious our delay." Then shew'd the birds a nine years' war foretold. The snake, entwining 'mid the virid boughs, Hard stone becomes, but keeps his serpent's form.