Metamorphoses

Book the Second-4

Thus entring into destiny, the maid

The secrets of offended Jove betray'd:

More had she still to say; but now appears

Oppress'd with sobs and sighs, and drown'd in tears.

"My voice," says she, "is gone, my language fails;

Through ev'ry limb my kindred shape prevails:

Why did the God this fatal gift impart,

And with prophetick raptures swell my heart!

What new desires are these? I long to pace

O'er flow'ry meadows, and to feed on grass;

I hasten to a brute, a maid no more;

But why, alas! am I transform'd all o'er?

My sire does half a human shape retain,

And in his upper parts preserve the man."

Her tongue no more distinct complaints affords,

But in shrill accents and mis-shapen words

Pours forth such hideous wailings, as declare

The human form confounded in the mare:

'Till by degrees accomplish'd in the beast,

She neigh'd outright, and all the steed exprest.

Her stooping body on her hands is born,

Her hands are turn'd to hoofs, and shod in horn,

Her yellow tresses ruffle in a mane,

And in a flowing tail she frisks her train,

The mare was finish'd in her voice and look,

And a new name from the new figure took.

The Transformation of Battus to a Touch stone

Sore wept the centuar, and to Phoebus pray'd;

But how could Phoebus give the centaur aid?

Degraded of his pow'r by angry Jove,

In Elis then a herd of beeves he drove;

And wielded in his hand a staff of oak,

And o'er his shoulders threw the shepherd's cloak;

On sev'n compacted reeds he us'd to play,

And on his rural pipe to waste the day.

As once attentive to his pipe he play'd,

The crafty Hermes from the God convey'd

A drove, that sep'rate from their fellows stray'd.

The theft an old insidious peasant view'd

(They call'd him Battus in the neighbourhood),

Hir'd by a vealthy Pylian prince to feed

His fav'rite mares, and watch the gen'rous breed.

The thievish God suspected him, and took

The hind aside, and thus in whispers spoke:

"Discover not the theft, whoe'er thou be,

And take that milk-white heifer for thy fee."

"Go, stranger," cries the clown, "securely on,

That stone shall sooner tell," and show'd a stone.

The God withdrew, but strait return'd again,

In speech and habit like a country swain;

And cries out, "Neighbour, hast thou seen a stray

Of bullocks and of heifers pass this way?

In the recov'ry of my cattle join,

A bullock and a heifer shall be thine."

The peasant quick replies, "You'll find 'em there

In yon dark vale"; and in the vale they were.

The double bribe had his false heart beguil'd:

The God, successful in the tryal, smil'd;

"And dost thou thus betray my self to me?

Me to my self dost thou betray?" says he:

Then to a Touch stone turns the faithless spy;

And in his name records his infamy.

The Story of Aglauros, transform'd into a Statue

This done, the God flew up on high, and pass'd

O'er lofty Athens, by Minerva grac'd,

And wide Munichia, whilst his eyes survey

All the vast region that beneath him lay.

'Twas now the feast, when each Athenian maid

Her yearly homage to Minerva paid;

In canisters, with garlands cover'd o'er,

High on their heads, their mystick gifts they bore:

And now, returning in a solemn train,

The troop of shining virgins fill'd the plain.

The God well pleas'd beheld the pompous show,

And saw the bright procession pass below;

Then veer'd about, and took a wheeling flight,

And hover'd o'er them: as the spreading kite,

That smells the s*******r'd victim from on high,

Flies at a distance, if the priests are nigh,

And sails around, and keeps it in her eye:

So kept the God the virgin quire in view,

And in slow winding circles round them flew.

As Lucifer excells the meanest star,

Or, as the full-orb'd Phoebe, Lucifer;

So much did Herse all the rest outvy,

And gave a grace to the solemnity.

Hermes was fir'd, as in the clouds he hung:

So the cold bullet, that with fury slung

From Balearick engines mounts on high,

Glows in the whirl, and burns along the sky.

At length he pitch'd upon the ground, and show'd

The form divine, the features of a God.

He knew their vertue o'er a female heart,

And yet he strives to better them by art.

He hangs his mantle loose, and sets to show

The golden edging on the seam below;

Adjusts his flowing curls, and in his hand

Waves, with an air, the sleep-procuring wand;

The glitt'ring sandals to his feet applies,

And to each heel the well-trim'd pinion ties.

His ornaments with nicest art display'd,

He seeks th' apartment of the royal maid.

The roof was all with polish'd iv'ry lin'd,

That richly mix'd, in clouds of tortoise shin'd.

Three rooms, contiguous, in a range were plac'd,

The midmost by the beauteous Herse grac'd;

Her virgin sisters lodg'd on either side.

Aglauros first th' approaching God descry'd,

And, as he cross'd her chamber, ask'd his name,

And what his business was, and whence he came.

"I come," reply'd the God, "from Heav'n, to woo

Your sister, and to make an aunt of you;

I am the son and messenger of Jove;

My name is Mercury, my bus'ness love;

Do you, kind damsel, take a lover's part,

And gain admittance to your sister's heart."

She star'd him in the face with looks amaz'd,

As when she on Minerva's secret gaz'd,

And asks a mighty treasure for her hire;

And, 'till he brings it, makes the God retire.

Minerva griev'd to see the nymph succeed;

And now remembring the late impious deed,

When, disobedient to her strict command,

She touch'd the chest with an unhallow'd hand;

In big-swoln sighs her inward rage express'd,

That heav'd the rising Aegis on her breast;

Then sought out Envy in her dark abode,

Defil'd with ropy gore and clots of blood:

Shut from the winds, and from the wholesome skies,

In a deep vale the gloomy dungeon lies,

Dismal and cold, where not a beam of light

Invades the winter, or disturbs the night.

Directly to the cave her course she steer'd;

Against the gates her martial lance she rear'd;

The gates flew open, and the fiend appear'd.

A pois'nous morsel in her teeth she chew'd,

And gorg'd the flesh of vipers for her food.

Minerva loathing turn'd away her eye;

The hideous monster, rising heavily,

Came stalking forward with a sullen pace,

And left her mangled offals on the place.

Soon as she saw the goddess gay and bright,

She fetch'd a groan at such a chearful sight.

Livid and meagre were her looks, her eye

In foul distorted glances turn'd awry;

A hoard of gall her inward parts possess'd,

And spread a greenness o'er her canker'd breast;

Her teeth were brown with rust, and from her tongue,

In dangling drops, the stringy poison hung.

She never smiles but when the wretched weep,

Nor lulls her malice with a moment's sleep,

Restless in spite: while watchful to destroy,

She pines and sickens at another's joy;

Foe to her self, distressing and distrest,

She bears her own tormentor in her breast.

The Goddess gave (for she abhorr'd her sight)

A short command: "To Athens speed thy flight;

On curst Aglauros try thy utmost art,

And fix thy rankest venoms in her heart."

This said, her spear she push'd against the ground,

And mounting from it with an active bound,

Flew off to Heav'n: the hag with eyes askew

Look'd up, and mutter'd curses as she flew;

For sore she fretted, and began to grieve

At the success which she her self must give.

Then takes her staff, hung round with wreaths of thorn,

And sails along, in a black whirlwind born,

O'er fields and flow'ry meadows: where she steers

Her baneful course, a mighty blast appears,

Mildews and blights; the meadows are defac'd,

The fields, the flow'rs, and the whole years laid waste:

On mortals next, and peopled towns she falls,

And breathes a burning plague among their walls.

When Athens she beheld, for arts renown'd,

With peace made happy, and with plenty crown'd,

Scarce could the hideous fiend from tears forbear,

To find out nothing that deserv'd a tear.

Th' apartment now she enter'd, where at rest

Aglauros lay, with gentle sleep opprest.

To execute Minerva's dire command,

She stroak'd the virgin with her canker'd hand,

Then prickly thorns into her breast convey'd,

That stung to madness the devoted maid:

Her subtle venom still improves the smart,

Frets in the blood, and festers in the heart.

To make the work more sure, a scene she drew,

And plac'd before the dreaming virgin's view

Her sister's marriage, and her glorious fate:

Th' imaginary bride appears in state;

The bride-groom with unwonted beauty glows:

For envy magnifies what-e'er she shows.

Full of the dream, Aglauros pin'd away

In tears all night, in darkness all the day;

Consum'd like ice, that just begins to run,

When feebly smitten by the distant sun;

Or like unwholsome weeds, that set on fire

Are slowly wasted, and in smoke expire.

Giv'n up to envy (for in ev'ry thought

The thorns, the venom, and the vision wrought)

Oft did she call on death, as oft decreed,

Rather than see her sister's wish succeed,

To tell her awfull father what had past:

At length before the door her self she cast;

And, sitting on the ground with sullen pride,

A passage to the love-sick God deny'd.

The God caress'd, and for admission pray'd,

And sooth'd in softest words th' envenom'd maid.

In vain he sooth'd: "Begone!" the maid replies,

"Or here I keep my seat, and never rise."

"Then keep thy seat for ever," cries the God,

And touch'd the door, wide op'ning to his rod.

Fain would she rise, and stop him, but she found

Her trunk too heavy to forsake the ground;

Her joynts are all benum'd, her hands are pale,

And marble now appears in ev'ry nail.

As when a cancer in the body feeds,

And gradual death from limb to limb proceeds;

So does the chilness to each vital parte

Spread by degrees, and creeps into her heart;

'Till hard'ning ev'ry where, and speechless grown,

She sits unmov'd, and freezes to a stone.

But still her envious hue and sullen mien

Are in the sedentary figure seen.

Europa's Rape

When now the God his fury had allay'd,

And taken vengeance of the stubborn maid,

From where the bright Athenian turrets rise

He mounts aloft, and re-ascends the skies.

Jove saw him enter the sublime abodes,

And, as he mix'd among the crowd of Gods,

Beckon'd him out, and drew him from the rest,

And in soft whispers thus his will exprest.

"My trusty Hermes, by whose ready aid

Thy sire's commands are through the world convey'd.

Resume thy wings, exert their utmost force,

And to the walls of Sidon speed thy course;

There find a herd of heifers wand'ring o'er

The neighb'ring hill, and drive 'em to the shore."

Thus spoke the God, concealing his intent.

The trusty Hermes, on his message went,

And found the herd of heifers wand'ring o'er

A neighb'ring hill, and drove 'em to the shore;

Where the king's daughter, with a lovely train

Of fellow-nymphs, was sporting on the plain.

The dignity of empire laid aside,

(For love but ill agrees with kingly pride)

The ruler of the skies, the thund'ring God,

Who shakes the world's foundations with a nod,

Among a herd of lowing heifers ran,

Frisk'd in a bull, and bellow'd o'er the plain.

Large rowles of fat about his shoulders clung,

And from his neck the double dewlap hung.

His skin was whiter than the snow that lies

Unsully'd by the breath of southern skies;

Small shining horns on his curl'd forehead stand,

As turn'd and polish'd by the work-man's hand;

His eye-balls rowl'd, not formidably bright,

But gaz'd and languish'd with a gentle light.

His ev'ry look was peaceful, and exprest

The softness of the lover in the beast.

Agenor's royal daughter, as she plaid

Among the fields, the milk-white bull survey'd,

And view'd his spotless body with delight,

And at a distance kept him in her sight.

At length she pluck'd the rising flow'rs, and fed

The gentle beast, and fondly stroak'd his head.

He stood well-pleas'd to touch the charming fair,

But hardly could confine his pleasure there.

And now he wantons o'er the neighb'ring strand,

Now rowls his body on the yellow sand;

And, now perceiving all her fears decay'd,

Comes tossing forward to the royal maid;

Gives her his breast to stroke, and downward turns

His grizly brow, and gently stoops his horns.

In flow'ry wreaths the royal virgin drest

His bending horns, and kindly clapt his breast.

'Till now grown wanton and devoid of fear,

Not knowing that she prest the Thunderer,

She plac'd her self upon his back, and rode

O'er fields and meadows, seated on the God.

He gently march'd along, and by degrees

Left the dry meadow, and approach'd the seas;

Where now he dips his hoofs and wets his thighs,

Now plunges in, and carries off the prize.

The frighted nymph looks backward on the shoar,

And hears the tumbling billows round her roar;

But still she holds him fast: one hand is born

Upon his back; the other grasps a horn:

Her train of ruffling garments flies behind,

Swells in the air, and hovers in the wind.

Through storms and tempests he the virgin bore,

And lands her safe on the Dictean shore;

Where now, in his divinest form array'd,

In his true shape he captivates the maid;

Who gazes on him, and with wond'ring eyes

Beholds the new majestick figure rise,

His glowing features, and celestial light,

And all the God discover'd to her sight.