Metamorphoses
Ovid
Ovid. Metamorphoses. More, Brookes, translator. Boston: Cornhill Publishing Co., 1922.
- and since that time, the linen wearing throng
- of Egypt have adored her as a God;
- for they believe the seed of Jove prevailed;
- and when her time was due she bore to him
- a son called Epaphus; who also dwells
- in temples with his mother in that land.
- Now Phaethon, whose father was the Sun,
- was equal to his rival, Epaphus,
- in mind and years; and he was glad to boast
- of wonders, nor would yield to Epaphus
- for pride of Phoebus, his reputed sire.
- Unable to endure it, Io's son
- thus mocked him; “Poor, demented fellow, what
- will you not credit if your mother speaks,
- you are so puffed up with the fond conceit
- of your imagined sire, the Lord of Day.”
- shame crimsoned in his cheeks, but Phaethon
- withholding rage, reported all the taunts
- of Epaphus to Clymene his mother:
- “'Twill grieve you, mother, I, the bold and free,
- was silent; and it shames me to report
- this dark reproach remains unchallenged. Oh,
- if I am born of race divine, give proof
- of that illustrious descent and claim
- my right to Heaven.” Around his mother's neck
- he drew his arms, and by the head of Merops,
- and by his own, and by the nuptial torch
- of his beloved sisters, he implored
- for some true token of his origin.
- Or moved by Phaethon's importuned words,
- or by the grievous charge, who might declare?
- She raised her arms to Heaven, and gazing full
- upon the broad sun said; “I swear to you
- by yonder orb, so radiant and bright,
- which both beholds and hears us while we speak,
- that you are his begotten son.—You are
- the child of that great light which sways the world:
- and if I have not spoken what is true,
- let not mine eyes behold his countenance,
- and let this fatal moment be the last
- that I shall look upon the light of day!
- Nor will it weary you, my son, to reach
- your father's dwelling; for the very place
- where he appears at dawn is near our land.
- Go, if it please you, and the very truth
- learn from your father.” Instantly sprang forth
- exultant Phaethon. Overjoyed with words
- so welcome, he imagined he could leap
- and touch the skies. And so he passed his land
- of Ethiopia, and the Indies, hot
- beneath the tawny sun, and there he turned
- his footsteps to his father's Land of Dawn.
- Glowing with gold, flaming with carbuncles
- on stately columns raised, refulgent shone
- the palace of the Sun, with polished dome
- of ivory gleaming, and with portals twain
- of burnished silver. And the workmanship
- exceeded all the wealth of gems and gold;
- for there had Mulciber engraved the seas
- encircling middle earth; the round of earth,
- and heaven impending over the land.
- And there
- amid the waves were azure deities:
- melodious Triton and elusive Proteus; there
- Aegeaan pressing with his arms the backs.
- Of monstrous whales; and Doris in the sea
- and all her daughters; some amid the waves
- and others sitting on the bank to dry
- their sea-green hair, and others borne about
- by fishes. Each was made to show a fair
- resemblance to her sisters—yet not one
- appearance was assigned to all—they seemed
- as near alike as sisters should in truth.
- And men and cities, woods and savage beasts,
- and streams and nymphs, and sylvan deities
- were carved upon the land; and over these
- an image of the glittering sky was fixed;—
- six signs were on the right, six on the left.
- Here when audacious Phaethon arrived
- by steep ascending paths, without delay
- he entered in the shining palace-gates
- of his reputed parent, making haste
- to stand in his paternal presence. There,
- unable to endure the dazzling light,
- he waited at a distance.
- Phoebus sat,
- arrayed in royal purple, on a throne
- that glittered with the purest emeralds.—
- there to the left and right, Day, Month and Year,
- time and the Hours, at equal distance stood;
- and vernal Spring stood crowned with wreathed flowers;
- and naked Summer stood with sheaves of wheat;
- and Autumn stood besmeared with trodden grapes;
- and icy Winter rough with hoary hair.
- And from the midst, with orbs that view the world,
- Phoebus beheld the trembling youth, fear-struck,
- in mute amazement, and he said; “Declare
- the reason of thy journey. What wilt thou
- in this my palace, Phaethon my child
- beloved?”
- And to him replied the youth;
- “O universal light of all the world,
- my father Phoebus, if thy name be mine,
- if Clymene has not concealed her sin
- beneath some pretext, give to me, my sire,
- a token to declare thy fatherhood
- which may establish my assured descent,
- and leave no dark suspicions in our minds.”—
- then Phoebus from his shining brows cast down
- his circling rays; called Phaethon to him,
- and as he held him to his breast replied;
- “O child most worthy of thy sire, the truth
- was told thee by thy mother; wherefore doubts
- to dissipate, consider thy desire,
- and ask of me that I may freely give:
- yea, let the Nether Lake, beyond our view,
- (which is the oath of Gods inviolate)
- be witness to my word.”
- When this was said
- the happy youth at once began to plead
- command and guidance of his father's steeds,
- wing-footed, and his chariot for a day.
- But Phoebus much repented that he sware,
- and thrice and four times shook his radiant head;
- “Ah, would I might refuse my plighted word;
- and oh, that it were lawful to deny
- the promised boon.—For I confess, O son,
- this only I should keep from thee—and yet
- 'Tis lawful to dissuade. It is unsafe
- to satisfy thy will. It is a great
- request, O Phaethon, which neither suits
- thy utmost strength nor tender years; for thou
- art mortal, and thou hast aspired to things
- immortal. Ignorance has made thy thought
- transcend the province of the Gods. I vaunt
- no vain exploits; but only I can stand
- securely on the flame-fraught axle-tree:
- even the Ruler of Olympian Gods,
- who hurls fierce lightnings with his great right hand,
- may never dare to drive this chariot,
- and what art thou to equal mighty Jove?
- “The opening path is steep and difficult,
- for scarcely can the steeds, refreshed at dawn,
- climb up the steeps: and when is reached the height,
- extreme of midmost Heaven, and sea and earth
- are viewed below, my trembling breast is filled
- with fearful apprehensions: and requires
- the last precipitous descent a sure
- command. Then, also, Tethys, who receives
- me in her subject waves, is wont to fear
- lest I should fall disastrous. And around
- the hastening sky revolves in constant whirl,
- drawing the lofty stars with rapid twist.
- “I struggle on. The force that overcomes
- the heavenly bodies overwhelms me not,
- and I am borne against that rapid globe.
- Suppose the chariot thine: what canst thou do?
- Canst thou drive straight against the twisted pole
- and not be carried from the lofty path
- by the swift car? Art thou deceived to think
- there may be groves and cities of the Gods,
- and costly temples wondrously endowed?
- “The journey is beset with dreadful snares
- and shapes of savage animals. If thou
- shouldst hold upon thy way without mistake
- yet must thy journey be through Taurus' horns,
- and through the Bow Haemonian, and the jaws
- of the fierce Lion, and the cruel arms
- of Scorpion, bent throughout a vast expanse,—
- and Cancer's curving arms reversely bent.
- “It is no easy task for thee to rule
- the mettled four-foot steeds, enflamed in fires
- that kindle in their breasts, forth issuing
- in breathings from their mouths and nostrils hot;—
- I scarce restrain them, as their struggling necks
- pull on the harness, when their heated fires
- are thus aroused.
- “And, O my son, lest I
- may be the author of a baneful gift,
- beware, and as the time permits recall
- thy rash request. Forsooth thou hast besought
- undoubted signs of thy descent from me?
- My fears for thee are certain signs that thou
- art of my race—by my paternal fears
- 'Tis manifest I am thy father. Lo!
- Behold my countenance! and oh, that thou
- couldst even pierce my bosom with thine eyes,
- and so discover my paternal cares!
- “Look round thee on the treasured world's delights
- and ask the greatest blessing of the sky,
- or sea or land, and thou shalt suffer no
- repulse: but only this I must deplore,
- which rightly named would be a penalty
- and not an honour.—Thou hast made request
- of punishment and not a gift indeed.
- O witless boy! why dost thou hold my neck
- with thy caressing arms? For, doubt it not,
- as I have sworn it by the Stygian Waves,
- whatever thou shalt wish, it shall be given—
- but thou shouldst wish more wisely.”
- So were all
- his admonitions said, availing naught;
- for Phaethon resisted his advice,
- and urged again his claim, and eagerly burned
- to use the chariot. Wherefore, Phoebus long
- delaying and reluctant, took the youth
- to view the spacious chariot, gift of Vulcan.—
- gold was the axle and the beam was gold,
- the great Wheel had a golden tire and spokes
- of silver; chrysolites and diamonds
- reflected from the spangled yoke the light
- of Phoebus.
- While aspiring Phaethon admired
- the glittering chariot and its workmanship,
- the vigilant Aurora opened forth
- her purple portals from the ruddy east,
- disclosing halls replete with roses. All
- the stars took flight, while Lucifer, the last
- to quit his vigil, gathered that great host
- and disappeared from his celestial watch.
- And when his father, Phoebus, saw the earth
- and the wide universe in glowing tints
- arrayed, as waned the Moon's diminished horns,
- far-distant, then he bade the nimble Hours
- to yoke the steeds.—At once the Deities
- accomplished his commands, and led the steeds,
- ambrosia-fed and snorting flames, from out
- their spacious stalls; and fixed their sounding bits.
- Then with a hallowed drug the father touched
- the stripling's face, to make him proof against
- the rapid flame, and wrought around his hair
- the sun-rays. But, foreboding grief, he said,
- while many a sigh heaved from his anxious breast;
- “If thou canst only heed thy father's voice—
- be sparing of the whip and use with nerve
- the reins; for of their own accord the steeds
- will hasten. Difficult are they to check
- in full career. Thou must not drive the car
- directly through five circles, for the track
- takes a wide curve, obliquely, and is bound
- by the extreme edge of three zones.—It avoids
- the Southern Pole, and it avoids the Bear
- that roams around the north. The way is plain;
- the traces of the Wheel are manifest.
- “Observe with care that both the earth and sky
- have their appropriate heat—Drive not too low,
- nor urge the chariot through the highest plane;
- for if thy course attain too great a height
- thou wilt consume the mansions of the sky,
- and if too low the land will scorch with heat.
- “Take thou the middle plane, where all is safe;
- nor let the Wheel turn over to the right
- and bear thee to the twisted Snake! nor let
- it take thee to the Altar on the left—
- so close to earth—but steer the middle course.—
- to Fortune I commit thy fate, whose care
- for thee so reckless of thyself I pray.
- “While I am speaking humid night has touched
- the margin of Hesperian shores. 'Tis not
- for us to idle; we are called away;—
- when bright Aurora shines the darkness flies.
- Take up the reins! But if thy stubborn breast
- be capable of change use not our car,
- but heed my counsel while the time permits,
- and while thy feet are on a solid base,
- but not, according to thy foolish wish,
- pressing the axle. Rather let me light
- the world beneath thy safe and wondering gaze.”
- But Phaethon with youthful vigor leaped,
- and in the light-made chariot lightly stood:
- and he rejoiced, and with the reins in hand
- thanked his reluctant parent.
- Instantly
- Eous, Aethon, Pyrois and Phlegon,
- the winged horses of the Sun, gave vent
- to flame-like neighs that filled the shaking air;
- they pawed the barriers with their shining hoofs.
- Then Tethys, witless of her grandson's fate
- let back the barriers,—and the universe
- was theirs to traverse. Taking the well-known road,
- and moving through the air with winged feet,
- they pierced resisting clouds, and spreading wide
- their pinions soared upon the eastern wind,
- far-wafted from that realm. But Phaethon,
- so easy of their yoke, lost all control,
- and the great car was tossed,—as tapered ships
- when lightened of their ballast toss and heave
- unsteady in the surging seas: the car
- leaped lightly in the air, and in the heights
- was tossed unsteady as an empty shell.
- Soon as the steeds perceived it, with a rush
- impetuous, they left the beaten track;
- regardless of all order and control;
- and Phaethon filled with fear, knew not to guide
- with trusted reins, nor where the way might be—
- nor, if he knew, could he control their flight.
- Warmed in the sunshine, never felt before,
- the gelid Triones attempted vain
- to bathe in seas forbid: the Serpent cold
- and torpid by the frozen Pole, too cold
- for contest, warmed, and rage assumed from heat
- bootes, troubled by the heat, took flight,
- impeded by his wain.
- And as from skies
- of utmost height unhappy Phaethon
- beheld the earth receding from his view,
- a pallor spread his cheeks with sudden fear;
- his knees began to quake; and through the flare
- of vast effulgence darkness closed his eyes.
- Now vainy he regrets he ever touched
- his father's steeds, and he is stunned with grief
- that so entreating he prevailed to know
- his true descent. He rather would be called
- the son of Merops. As a ship is tossed
- by raging Boreas, when the conquered helm
- has been abandoned, and the pilot leaves
- the vessel to his vows and to the Gods;
- so, helpless, he is borne along the sky.
- What can he? Much of heaven remains behind;
- a longer distance is in front of him—
- each way is measured in his anxious mind.—
- at first his gaze is fixed upon the west,
- which fate has destined he shall never reach,
- and then his eyes turn backward to the east.—
- so, stupefied and dazed he neither dares
- to loose the bits, nor tighten on the reins,
- and he is ignorant of the horses' names.
- He sees horrific wonders scattered round,
- and images of hideous animals.—
- and there's a spot where Scorpion bends his claws
- in double circles, and with tail and arms
- on either side, stretches his limbs throughout
- the space of two Celestial Signs; and when
- the lad beheld him, steeped in oozing slime
- of venom, swart, and threatening to strike
- grim wounds with jagged spear-points, he was lost;
- and, fixed in chills of horror, dropped the reins.
- When these they felt upon their rising backs,
- the startled steeds sprang forthwith; and, unchecked,
- through atmospheres of regions unexplored,
- thence goaded by their unchecked violence,
- broke through the lawful bounds, and rushed upon
- the high fixed stars. They dragged the chariot
- through devious ways, and soared amid the heights;
- dashed down deep pathways, far, precipitous,
- and gained a level near the scorching earth.
- Phoebe is wondering that her brother's steeds
- run lower than her own, and sees the smoke
- of scorching clouds. The highest altitudes
- are caught in flames, and as their moistures dry
- they crack in chasms. The grass is blighted; trees
- are burnt up with their leaves; the ripe brown crops
- give fuel for self destruction—Oh what small
- complaints! Great cities perish with their walls,
- and peopled nations are consumed to dust—
- the forests and the mountains are destroyed.
- Cilician Taurus, Athos and Tmolus,
- and Oeta are burning; and the far-famed Ida
- and all her cooling rills are dry and burning,
- and virgin Helicon, and Hoemos—later
- Oeagrius called—and Aetna with tremendous,
- redoubled flames, and double-peaked Parnassus,
- Sicilian Eryx, Cynthus—Othrys, pine-clad,
- and Rhodope, deprived his snowy mantle,
- and Dindyma and Mycale and Mimas,
- and Mount Cithaeron, famed for sacred rites:
- and Scythia, though a land of frost, is burning,
- and Caucasus,—and Ossa burns with Pindus,—
- and greater than those two Olympus burns—
- the lofty Alps, the cloud-topped Apennines.
- And Phaethon, as he inhaled the air,
- burning and scorching as a furnace blast,
- and saw destruction on the flaming world,
- and his great chariot wreathed in quenchless fires,
- was suddenly unable to endure the heat,
- the smoke and cinders, and he swooned away.—
- if he had known the way, those winged steeds
- would rush as wild unguided.—
- then the skin
- of Ethiopians took a swarthy hue,
- the hot blood tingling to the surface: then
- the heat dried up the land of Libya;
- dishevelled, the lorn Nymphs, lamenting, sought
- for all their emptied springs and lakes in vain;
- Boeotia wailed for Dirce's cooling wave,
- and Argos wailed for Amymone's stream—
- and even Corinth for the clear Pyrene.
- Not safer from the flames were distant streams;—
- the Tanais in middle stream was steaming
- and old Peneus and Teuthrantian Caicus,
- Ismenus, rapid and Arcadian Erymanthus;
- and even Xanthus destined for a second burning,
- and tawny-waved Lycormas, and Meander,
- turning and twisting, and Thracian Melas burns,
- and the Laconian Eurotas burns,
- the mighty Babylonian Euphrates,
- Orontes and the Ganges, swift Thermodon,
- Ister and Phasis and Alpheus boil.
- The banks of Spercheus burn, the gold of Tagus
- is melting in the flames. The swans whose songs
- enhanced the beauties of Maeonian banks
- are scalded in the Cayster's middle wave.
- The Nile affrighted fled to parts remote,
- and hid his head forever from the world:
- now empty are his seven mouths, and dry
- without or wave or stream; and also dry
- Ismenian Hebrus, Strymon and the streams
- of Hesper-Land, the rivers Rhine and Rhone,
- and Po, and Tiber, ruler of the world.
- And even as the ground asunder burst,
- the light amazed in gloomy Tartarus
- the King Infernal and his Spouse. The sea
- contracted and his level waste became
- a sandy desert. The huge mountain tops,
- once covered by the ocean's waves, reared up,
- by which the scattered Cyclades increased.
- Even the fishes sought for deeper pools;—
- the crooked dolphins dared not skip the waves;
- the lifeless sea-calves floated on the top;
- and it is even famed that Nereus hid
- with Doris and her daughters, deep below
- in seething caverns. With a dauntless mien
- thrice Neptune tried to thrust his arms above
- the waters;—thrice the heated air overcame
- his courage.
- Then the genial Earth, although
- surrounded by the waters of the sea,
- was parched and dry; for all her streams had hid
- deep in the darkness of her winding caves.—
- she lifted her productive countenance,
- up to her rounded neck, and held her palms
- on her sad brows; and as the mountains huge
- trembled and tottered, beneath her wonted plane
- declined she for a space—and thus began,
- with parched voice;
- “If this is thy decree,
- O, Highest of the Gods,—if I have sinned
- why do thy lightnings linger? For if doomed
- by fires consuming I to perish must,
- let me now die in thy celestial flames—
- hurled by thine arm—and thus alleviate,
- by thine omnipotence, this agony.
- “How difficult to open my parched mouth,
- and speak these words! (the vapours choking her),
- behold my scorching hair, and see the clouds
- of ashes falling on my blinded eyes,
- and on my features! What a recompense
- for my fertility! How often I
- have suffered from the wounds of crooked plows
- and rending harrows—tortured year by year!
- For this I give to cattle juicy leaves
- and fruits to man and frankincense to thee!
- “Suppose destruction is my just award
- what have the waters and thy brother done?
- Why should thy brother's cooling waves decrease
- and thus recede so distant from the skies?
- If not thy brother's good nor mine may touch
- thy mercy, let the pity of thy Heaven,
- for lo, the smoking poles on either side
- attest, if flames consume them or destroy,
- the ruin of thy palace. Atlas, huge,
- with restive shoulders hardly can support
- the burning heavens. If the seas and lands
- together perish and thy palace fall,
- the universe confused will plunge once more
- to ancient Chaos. Save it from this wreck—
- if anything survive the fury of the flames.”