Chapter XII: Book THE NINTH: Fable I. Ix.1-100 (1)

Deïanira, the daughter of Œneus, having been wooed by several
suitors, her father gives his consent that she shall marry him who
proves to be the bravest of them. Her other suitors, having given
way to Hercules and Acheloüs, they engage in single combat.
Acheloüs, to gain the advantage over his rival, transforms himself
into various shapes, and, at length, into that of a bull. These
attempts are in vain, and Hercules overcomes him, and breaks off one
of his horns. The Naiads, the daughters of Acheloüs, take it up, and
fill it with the variety of fruits which Autumn affords; on which it
obtains the name of the Horn of Plenty.

Theseus, the Neptunian hero,[1] inquires what is the cause of his sighing, and of his forehead being mutilated; when thus begins the Calydonian river, having his unadorned hair crowned with reeds:

“A mournful task thou art exacting; for who, when overcome, is desirous to relate his own battles? yet I will relate them in order; nor was it so disgraceful to be overcome, as it is glorious to have engaged; and a conqueror so mighty affords me a great consolation. If, perchance, Deïanira,[2] by her name, has at last reached thy ears, once she was a most beautiful maiden, and the envied hope of many a wooer; together with these, when the house of him, whom I desired as my father-in-law, was entered by me, I said, ‘Receive me, O son of Parthaon,[3] for thy son-in-law.’ Alcides, too, said {the same}; the others yielded to {us} two. He alleged that he was offering {to the damsel} both Jupiter as a father-in-law, and the glory of his labours; the orders, too, of his step-mother, successfully executed. On the other hand (I thought it disgraceful for a God to give way to a mortal, for then he was not a God), I said, ‘Thou beholdest me, a king of the waters, flowing amid thy realms,[4] with my winding course; nor {am I some} stranger sent thee for a son-in-law, from foreign lands, but I shall be one of thy people, and a part of thy state. Only let it not be to my prejudice, that the royal Juno does not hate me, and that all punishment, by labours enjoined, is afar from me. For, since thou, {Hercules}, dost boast thyself born of Alcmena for thy mother; Jupiter is either thy pretended sire, or thy real one through a criminal deed: by the adultery of thy mother art thou claiming a father. Choose, {then}, whether thou wouldst rather have Jupiter {for thy} pretended {father}, or that thou art sprung {from him} through a disgraceful deed?’

“While I was saying such things as these, for some time he looked at me with a scowling eye, and did not very successfully check his inflamed wrath; and he returned me just as many words {as these}: ‘My right hand is better than my tongue. If only I do but prevail in fighting, do thou get the better in talking;’ and {then} he fiercely {attacked} me. I was ashamed, after having so lately spoken big words, to yield. I threw on one side my green garment from off my body, and opposed my arms {to his}, and I held my hands bent inwards,[5] from before my breast, on their guard, and I prepared my limbs for the combat. He sprinkled me with dust, taken up in the hollow of his hands, and, in his turn, grew yellow with the casting of yellow sand[6] {upon himself}. And at one moment he aimed at my neck, at another my legs, as they shifted about, or you would suppose he was aiming {at them}; and he assaulted me on every side. My bulk defended me, and I was attacked in vain; no otherwise than a mole, which the waves beat against with loud noise: it remains {unshaken}, and by its own weight is secure.

“We retire a little, and {then} again we rush together in conflict, and we stand firm, determined not to yield; foot, too, is joined to foot; and {then} I, bending forward full with my breast, press upon his fingers with my fingers, and his forehead with my forehead. In no different manner have I beheld the strong bulls engage, when the most beauteous mate[7] in all the pasture is sought as the reward of the combat; the herds look on and tremble, uncertain which the mastery of so great a domain awaits. Thrice without effect did Alcides attempt to hurl away from him my breast, as it bore hard against him; the fourth time, he shook off my hold, and loosened my arms clasped around him; and, striking me with his hand, (I am resolved to confess the truth) he turned me quite round, and clung, a mighty load, to my back. If any credit {is to be given me}, (and, indeed, no glory is sought by me through an untrue narration) I seemed to myself {as though} weighed down with a mountain placed upon me. Yet, with great difficulty, I disengaged my arms streaming with much perspiration, {and}, with great exertion, I unlocked his firm grasp from my body. He pressed on me as I panted for breath, and prevented me from recovering my strength, and {then} seized hold of my neck. Then, at last, was the earth pressed by my knee, and with my mouth I bit the sand. Inferior in strength, I had recourse to my arts,[8] and transformed into a long serpent, I escaped from the hero.

“After I had twisted my body into winding folds, and darted my forked tongue with dreadful hissings, the Tirynthian laughed, and deriding my arts, he said, ‘It was the labour of my cradle to conquer serpents;[9] and although, Acheloüs, thou shouldst excel other snakes, how large a part wilt thou, {but} one serpent, be of the Lernæan Echidna? By her {very} wounds was she multiplied, and not one head of her hundred in number[10] was cut off {by me} without danger {to myself}; but rather so that her neck became stronger, with two successors {to the former head}. {Yet} her I subdued, branching with serpents springing from {each} wound, and growing stronger by her disasters; and, {so} subdued, I slew her. What canst thou think will become of thee, who, changed into a fictitious serpent, art wielding arms that belong to another, and whom a form, obtained as a favour, is {now} disguising?’ {Thus} he spoke; and he planted the grip of his fingers on the upper part of my neck. I was tortured, just as though my throat was squeezed with pincers; and I struggled hard to disengage my jaws from his fingers.

“Thus vanquished, too, there still remained for me my third form, {that} of a furious bull; with my limbs changed into {those of} a bull I renewed the fight. He threw his arms over my brawny neck, on the left side, and, dragging {at me}, followed me in my onward course; and seizing my horns, he fastened them in the hard ground, and felled me upon the deep sand. And that was not enough; while his relentless right hand was holding my stubborn horn, he broke it, and tore it away from my mutilated forehead. This, heaped with fruit and odoriferous flowers, the Naiads have consecrated, and the bounteous {Goddess}, Plenty, is enriched by my horn.” {Thus} he said; but a Nymph, girt up after the manner of Diana, one of his handmaids, with her hair hanging loose on either side, came in, and brought the whole {of the produce} of Autumn in the most plentiful horn, and choice fruit for a second course.

Day comes on, and the rising sun striking the tops of the hills, the young men depart; nor do they stay till the stream has quiet {restored to it}, and a smooth course, and {till} the troubled waters subside. Acheloüs conceals his rustic features, and his mutilated horn, in the midst of the waves; yet the loss of this honour, taken from him, {alone} affects him; in other respects, he is unhurt. The injury, too, which has befallen his head, is {now} concealed with willow branches, or with reeds placed upon it.

[Footnote 1: _The Neptunian hero._--Ver. 1. Theseus was the
grandson of Neptune, through his father Ægeus.]

[Footnote 2: _Deïanira._--Ver. 9. She was the daughter of Œneus,
king of Ætolia, and became the wife of Hercules.]

[Footnote 3: _Parthaon._--Ver. 12. He was the son of Agenor and
Epicaste. Homer, however, makes Portheus, and not Parthaon, to
have been the father of Œneus.]

[Footnote 4: _Amid thy realms._--Ver. 18. The river Acheloüs
flowed between Ætolia and Acarnania.]

[Footnote 5: _Bent inwards._--Ver. 33. ‘Varus,’ which we here
translate ‘bent inwards,’ according to some authorities, means
‘bent outwards.’]

[Footnote 6: _Casting of yellow sand._--Ver. 35. It was the custom
of wrestlers, after they had anointed the body with ‘ceroma’ or
wrestler’s oil, in order to render the body supple and pliant, to
sprinkle the body with sand, or dust, to enable the antagonist to
take a firm hold. It was, however, considered more praiseworthy to
conquer in a contest which was ἀκονιτὶ ‘without the use of sand.’]

[Footnote 7: _Most beauteous mate._--Ver. 47. Clarke translates
‘nitidissima conjux,’ ‘the neatest cow.’]

[Footnote 8: _Recourse to my arts._--Ver. 62. ‘Devertor ad artes,’
is rendered by Clarke, ‘I fly to my tricks.’]

[Footnote 9: _To conquer serpents._--Ver. 67. Hercules, while an
infant in his cradle, was said to have strangled two serpents,
which Juno sent for the purpose of destroying him.]

[Footnote 10: _Hundred in number._--Ver. 71. The number of heads
of the Hydra varies in the accounts given by different writers.
Seven, nine, fifty, and a hundred are the numbers mentioned. This,
however, is not surprising, as we are told that where one was cut
off, two sprang up in their place, until Hercules, to prevent such
consequences, adopted the precaution of searing the neck, where
the head had been cut off, with a red hot iron.]

EXPLANATION.

The river Acheloüs, which ran between Acarnania and Ætolia, often
did considerable damage to those countries by its inundations, and,
at the same time, by confounding or sweeping away the limits which
separated those nations, it engaged them in continual warfare with
each other. Hercules, who seems really to have been a person of
great scientific skill, which he was ever ready to employ for the
service of his fellow men, raised banks to it, and made its course
so uniform and straight, that he was the means of establishing
perpetual peace between these adjoining nations.

The early authors who recorded these events have narrated them under
a thick and almost impenetrable veil of fiction. They say that
Hercules engaged in combat with the God of that river, who
immediately transformed himself into a serpent, by which was
probably meant merely the serpentine windings of its course. Next
they say, that the God changed himself into a bull, under which
allegorical form they refer to the rapid and impetuous overflowing
of its banks, ever rushing onwards, bearing down everything in its
course, and leaving traces of its ravages throughout the country in
its vicinity. This mode of description the more readily occurred to
them in the case of Acheloüs, as from the roaring noise which they
often make in their course, rivers in general were frequently
represented under the figure of a bull, and, of course, as wearing
horns, the great instruments of the havoc which they created.

It was said, then, that Hercules at length overcame this bull, and
broke off one of his horns; by which was meant, according to Strabo,
that he brought both the branches of the river into one channel.
Again, this horn became the Horn of Plenty in that region; or, in
other words, being withdrawn from its bed, the river left a large
track of very fertile ground for agricultural purposes. As to the
Cornucopia, or Horn of Plenty of the heathen Mythology, there is
some variation in the accounts respecting it. Some writers say that
by it was meant the horn of the goat Amalthea, which suckled
Jupiter, and that the Nymphs gave it to Acheloüs, who again gave it
in exchange for that of which Hercules afterwards deprived him.
Deïanira, having given her hand to Hercules, as the recompense of
the important services which he had rendered to her father, Œneus,
it was fabled that she had been promised to Acheloüs, who was
vanquished by his rival; and on this foundation was built the
superstructure of the famous combat which the Poet here describes.
After having remained for some time at the court of his
father-in-law, Hercules was obliged to leave it, in consequence of
having killed the son of Architritilus, who was the cupbearer of
that prince.

FABLE II. [IX.101-272]

Hercules, returning with Deïanira, as the prize of his victory,
entrusts her to the Centaur Nessus, to carry her over the river
Evenus. Nessus seizes the opportunity of Hercules being on the other
side of the river, and attempts to carry her off; on which Hercules,
perceiving his design, shoots him with an arrow, and thus prevents
its execution. The Centaur, when expiring, in order to gratify his
revenge, gives Deïanira his tunic dipped in his blood, assuring her
that it contains an effectual charm against all infidelity on the
part of her husband. Afterwards, on hearing that Hercules is in love
with Iole, Deïanira sends him the tunic, that it may have the
supposed effect. As soon as he puts it on, he is affected with
excruciating torments, and is seized with such violent fits of
madness, that he throws Lychas, the bearer of the garment, into the
sea, where he is changed into a rock. Hercules, then, in obedience
to a response of the oracle, which he consults, prepares a funeral
pile, and laying himself upon it, his friend Philoctetes applies the
torch to it, on which the hero, having first recounted his labours,
expires in the flames. After his body is consumed, Jupiter
translates him to the heavens, and he is placed in the number of the
Gods.

But a passion for this same maiden proved fatal to thee, fierce Nessus,[11] pierced through the back with a swift arrow. For the son of Jupiter, as he was returning to his native city with his new-made wife, had {now} come to the rapid waters of {the river} Evenus.[12] The stream was swollen to a greater extent than usual with the winter rains, and was full of whirlpools, and impassable. Nessus came up to him, regardless of himself, {but} feeling anxiety for his wife, both strong of limb,[13] and well acquainted with the fords, and said, “Alcides, she shall be landed on yonder bank through my services, do thou employ thy strength in swimming;” and the Aonian {hero} entrusted to Nessus the Calydonian damsel full of alarm, and pale with apprehension, and {equally} dreading both the river and {Nessus} himself. Immediately, just as he was, loaded both with his quiver and the spoil of the lion, (for he had thrown his club and his crooked bow to the opposite side), he said, “Since I have undertaken it, the stream must be passed.”

And he does not hesitate; nor does he seek out where the stream is the smoothest, and he spurns to be borne over by the compliance of the river. And now having reached the bank, and as he is taking up the bow which he had thrown over, he recognizes the voice of his wife; and as Nessus is preparing to rob him of what he has entrusted to his care, he cries out, “Whither, thou ravisher, does thy vain confidence in thy feet hurry thee? to thee am I speaking, Nessus, thou two-shaped {monster}. Listen; and do not carry off my property. If no regard for myself influences thee, still the wheel of thy father[14] might have restrained thee from forbidden embraces. Thou shall not escape, however, although thou dost confide[15] in thy powers of a horse; with a wound, {and} not with my feet, will I overtake thee.” {These} last words he confirms by deeds, and pierces him through the back, as he is flying, with an arrow discharged {at him}. The barbed steel stands out from his breast; soon as it is wrenched out, the blood gushes forth from both wounds, mingled with the venom of the Lernæan poison. Nessus takes it out, and says to himself, “And yet I shall not die unrevenged;” and gives his garment, dyed in the warm blood, as a present to her whom he is carrying off, as though an incentive to love.

Long was the space of intervening time, and the feats of the mighty Hercules and the hatred of his step-mother had filled the earth. {Returning} victorious from Œchalia, he is preparing a sacrifice which he had vowed to Cenæan Jupiter,[16] when tattling Rumour (who takes pleasure in adding false things to the truth, and from a very little {beginning}, swells to a great bulk by her lies) runs before to thy ears, Deïanira, {to the effect} that the son of Amphitryon is seized with a passion for Iole. As she loves him, she believes it; and being alarmed with the report of this new amour, at first she indulges in tears and in her misery gives vent to her grief in weeping. Soon, however, she says, “But why do I weep? My rival will be delighted with these tears; and since she is coming I must make haste, and some contrivance must be resolved on while it is {still} possible, and while, as yet, another has not taken possession of my bed. Shall I complain, or shall I be silent? Shall I return to Calydon, or shall I stay here? Shall I depart from this abode? or, if nothing more, shall I oppose {their entrance}? What if, O Meleager, remembering that I am thy sister, I resolve on a desperate deed, and testify, by murdering my rival, how much, injury and a woman’s grief can effect?”

Her mind wavers, amid various resolves. Before them all, she prefers to send the garment dyed in the blood of Nessus, to restore strength to his declining love. Not knowing herself what she is giving, she delivers {the cause of} her own sorrows to the unsuspecting Lichas,[17] and bids him, in gentle words, to deliver this most fatal gift to her husband. In his ignorance, the hero receives it, and places upon his shoulders the venom of the Lernæan Echidna. He is placing frankincense on the rising flames, and {is offering} the words of prayer, and pouring wine from the bowl upon the marble altars. The virulence of the bane waxes warm, and, melted by the flames, it runs, widely diffused over the limbs of Hercules. So long as he is able, he suppresses his groans with his wonted fortitude. After his endurance is overcome by his anguish, he pushes down the altars, and fills the woody Œta with his cries. There is no {further} delay; he attempts to tear off the deadly garment; {but} where it is torn off, it tears away the skin, and, shocking to relate, it either sticks to his limbs, being tried in vain to be pulled off, or it lays bare his mangled limbs, and his huge bones. The blood itself hisses, just as when a red hot plate {of metal is} dipped in cold water; and it boils with the burning poison. There is no limit {to his misery}; the devouring flames prey upon his entrails, and a livid perspiration flows from his whole body; his half-burnt sinews also crack; and his marrow being {now} dissolved by the subtle poison, lifting his hands towards the stars {of heaven}, he exclaims, “Daughter of Saturn, satiate thyself with my anguish; satiate thyself, and look down from on high, O cruel {Goddess}, at this {my} destruction, and glut thy relentless heart. Or, if I am to be pitied even by an enemy (for an enemy I am to thee), take away a life insupportable through these dreadful agonies, hateful, too, {to myself}, and {only} destined to trouble. Death will be a gain to me. It becomes a stepmother to grant such a favour.

“And was it for this that I subdued Busiris, who polluted the temples {of the Gods} with the blood of strangers? And did I {for this}, withdraw from the savage Antæus[18] the support given him by his mother? Did neither the triple shape of the Iberian shepherd[19], nor thy triple form, O Cerberus, alarm me? And did you, my hands, seize the horns of the mighty bull? Does Elis, {too}, possess {the result} of your labours, and the Stymphalian waters, and the Parthenian[20] grove {as well}? By your valour was it that the belt, inlaid with the gold of Thermodon[21], was gained, the apples too, guarded in vain by the wakeful dragon? And could neither the Centaurs resist me, nor yet the boar, the ravager of Arcadia? And was it not of no avail to the Hydra to grow through {its own} loss, and to recover double strength? And what besides? When I beheld the Thracian steeds fattened with human blood, and the mangers filled with mangled bodies, did I throw them down when {thus} beheld, and slay both the master and {the horses} themselves? {And} does the carcass of the Nemean {lion} lie crushed by these arms? With this neck did I support the heavens?[22] The unrelenting wife of Jupiter[23] was weary of commanding, {but} I was {still} unwearied with doing. But {now} a new calamity is come upon me, to which resistance can be made neither by valour, nor by weapons, nor by arms. A consuming flame is pervading the inmost recesses of my lungs, and is preying on all my limbs. But Eurystheus {still} survives. And are there,” says he, “any who can believe that the Deities exist?”

And {then}, racked with pain, he ranges along the lofty Œta, no otherwise than if a tiger should chance to carry the hunting spears fixed in his body, and the perpetrator of the deed should be taking to flight. Often might you have beheld him uttering groans, often shrieking aloud, often striving to tear away the whole of his garments, and levelling trees, and venting his fury against mountains, or stretching out his arms towards the heaven of his father. Lo! he espies Lichas, trembling and lying concealed in a hollow rock, and, as his pain has summoned together all his fury, he says, “Didst thou, Lichas, bring {this} fatal present; and shalt thou be the cause of my death?” He trembles, and {turning} pale, is alarmed, and timorously utters some words of excuse. As he is speaking, and endeavouring to clasp his knees with his hands, Alcides seizes hold of him, and whirling him round three or four times, he hurls him into the Eubœan waves, with greater force than {if sent} from an engine of war. As he soars aloft in the aerial breeze he grows hard; and as they say that showers freeze with the cold winds, {and} that thence snow is formed, and that from the snow, revolving {in its descent}, the soft body is compressed, and is {then} made round in many a hailstone,[24] so have former ages declared, that, hurled through the air by the strong arms {of Hercules}, and bereft of blood through fear, and having no moisture left in him, he was transformed into hard stone. Even to this day, in the Eubœan sea, a small rock projects to a height, and retains the traces of the human form. This, the sailors are afraid to tread upon, as though it could feel it; and they call it Lichas.

But thou, the famous offspring of Jupiter, having cut down, trees which lofty Œta bore, and having raised them for a pile, dost order the son of Pœas[25] to take the bow and the capacious quiver, and the arrows which are again to visit[26] the Trojan realms; by whose assistance flames are put beneath the pile; and while the structure is being seized by the devouring fires, thou dost cover the summit of the heap of wood with the skin of the Nemean {lion}, and dost lie down with thy neck resting on thy club, with no other countenance than if thou art lying as a guest crowned with garlands, amid the full cups of wine.

And now, the flames, prevailing and spreading on every side, roared,[27] and reached the limbs {thus} undismayed, and him who despised them. The Gods were alarmed for {this} protector of the earth;[28] Saturnian Jupiter (for he perceived it) thus addressed them with joyful voice: “This fear of yours is my own delight, O ye Gods of heaven, and, with all my heart, I gladly congratulate myself that I am called the governor and the father of a grateful people, and that my progeny, too, is secure in your esteem. For, although this {concern} is given {in return} for his mighty exploits, {still} I myself am obliged {by} it. But, however, that your affectionate breasts may not be alarmed with vain fears, despise these flames of Œta. He who has conquered all things, shall conquer the fires which you behold; nor shall he be sensible of the potency of the flame, but in the part {of him} which he derived from his mother. {That part of him}, which he derived from me, is immortal, and exempt and secure from death, and to be subdued by no flames. This, too, when disengaged from earth, I will receive into the celestial regions, and I trust that this act of mine will be agreeable to all the Deities. Yet if any one, if any one, {I say}, perchance should grieve at Hercules being a Divinity, {and} should be unwilling that this honour should be conferred on him; still he shall know that he deserves it to be bestowed {on him}, and {even} against his will, shall approve of it.”

{To this} the Gods assented; his royal spouse, too, seemed to bear the rest {of his remarks} with no discontented {air}, but only the last words with a countenance of discontent, and to take it amiss that she was {so plainly} pointed at. In the mean time, whatever was liable to be destroyed by flame, Mulciber consumed; and the figure of Hercules remained, not to be recognized; nor did he have anything derived from the form of his mother, and he only retained the traces of {immortal} Jupiter. And as when a serpent revived, by throwing off old age with his slough, is wont to be instinct with fresh life, and to glisten in his new-made scales; so, when the Tirynthian {hero} has put off his mortal limbs, he flourishes in his more æthereal part, and begins to appear more majestic, and to become venerable in his august dignity. Him the omnipotent Father, taking up among encircling clouds, bears aloft amid the glittering stars, in his chariot drawn by {its} four steeds.

[Footnote 11: _Nessus._--Ver. 101. He was one of the Centaurs
which were begotten by Ixion the cloud sent by Jupiter, under the
form of Juno.]

[Footnote 12: _Evenus._--Ver. 104. This was a river of Ætolia,
which was also called by the name of ‘Lycormas.’]

[Footnote 13: _Strong of limb._--Ver. 108. ‘Membrisque valens,’ is
rendered by Clarke, ‘being an able-limbed fellow.’]

[Footnote 14: _Wheel of thy father._--Ver. 124. He alludes to the
punishment of Ixion, the father of Nessus, who was fastened to a
revolving wheel in the Infernal Regions, as a punishment for his
attempt on the chastity of Juno.]

[Footnote 15: _Thou dost confide._--Ver. 125. ‘Quamvis ope fidis
equinâ,’ is translated by Clarke, ‘Although thou trustest to the
help of thy horse part.’]

[Footnote 16: _Cenæan Jupiter._--Ver. 136. Jupiter was called
Cenæan, from Cenæum, a promontory of Eubœa, where Hercules, after
having taken the town of Œchalia, built an altar in honour of
Jupiter. Hercules slew Eurytus, the king of Œchalia, and carried
away his daughter Iole.]

[Footnote 17: _Lichas._--Ver. 155. This was the attendant of
Hercules, whom he sent to Deïanira for the garment which he used
to wear while performing sacrifice.]

[Footnote 18: _The savage Antæus._--Ver. 183. He alludes to the
fresh strength which the giant Antæus gained each time he touched
the earth.]

[Footnote 19: _Iberian shepherd._--Ver. 184. Allusion is here made
to Geryon, who had three bodies, and whom Hercules slew, and then
carried away his herds. It has been suggested that the story of
his triple form originated in the fact that he and his two
brothers reigned amicably in conjunction over some portion of
Spain, or the islands adjoining to it.]

[Footnote 20: _Parthenian._--Ver. 188. A part of Arcadia was so
called from Parthenium, a mountain which divided it from Argolis;
there was also, according to Pliny the Elder, a town of the same
name in Arcadia.]

[Footnote 21: _Gold of Thermodon._--Ver. 189. The Thermodon was a
river of Scythia, near which the Amazons were said to dwell.
Eurystheus ordered Hercules to bring to him the belt of Hippolyta,
the queen of the Amazons.]

[Footnote 22: _Support the heavens._--Ver. 198. Atlas, king of
Mauritania, was said to support the heavens on his shoulders, of
which burden Hercules relieved him for a time, when he partook of
his hospitality. It has been suggested that the meaning of this
story is, that Hercules learned the study of astronomy from
Atlas.]

[Footnote 23: _Wife of Jupiter._--Ver. 199. Juno gave her commands
to Hercules through Eurystheus, the son of Sthenelus, king of
Mycenæ, who imposed upon him his various labours.]

[Footnote 24: _Many a hailstone._--Ver. 222. Ovid here seems to
think that snow is an intermediate state between rain and hail,
and that hail is formed by the rapid motion of the snow as it
falls.]

[Footnote 25: _The son of Pœas._--Ver. 233. Philoctetes was the
son of Pœas.]

[Footnote 26: _Again to visit._--Ver. 232. It was decreed by the
destinies that Troy should not be taken, unless the bow and arrows
of Hercules were present; for which reason it was necessary to
send for Philoctetes, who was the possessor of them. Troy had
already seen them, when Hercules punished Laomedon, its king, for
his perfidious conduct.]

[Footnote 27: _Roared._--Ver. 239. ‘Diffusa sonabat--flamma’ is
translated by Clarke, ‘The flame, being diffused on all sides,
rattled.’]

[Footnote 28: _Protector of the earth._--Ver. 241. Hercules
merited this character, for having cleared the earth of monsters,
robbers, and tyrants.]

EXPLANATION.

Hercules, leaving the court of Calydon with his wife, proceeded on
the road to the city of Trachyn, in Thessaly, to atone for the
accidental death of Eunomus, and to be absolved from it by Ceyx, who
was the king of that territory. Being obliged to cross the river
Evenus, which had overflowed its banks, the adventure happened with
the Centaur Nessus, which the Poet has here related. We learn from
other writers, that after Nessus had expired, he was buried on Mount
Taphiusa; and Strabo informs us, that his tomb (in which, probably,
the ashes of other Centaurs were deposited) sent forth so offensive
a smell, that the Locrians, who were the inhabitants of the adjacent
country, were surnamed the ‘Ozolæ,’ that is, the ‘ill-smelling,’ or
‘stinking,’ Locrians. Although the river Evenus lay in the road
between Calydon and Trachyn, still it did not run through the middle
of the latter city, as some authors have supposed; for in such case
Hercules would have been more likely to have passed it by the aid of
a bridge or of a boat, than to have recourse to the assistance of
the Centaur Nessus, and to have availed himself of his acquaintance
with the fords of the stream.

Hercules, in lapse of time, becoming tired of Deïanira, by whom he
had one son, named Hyllus, fell in love with Iole, the daughter of
Eurytus; and that prince, refusing to give her to him, he made war
upon Œchalia, and, having slain Eurytus, he bore off his daughter.
Upon his return from that expedition, he sent Lychas for the
vestments which he had occasion to use in a sacrifice which it was
his intention to offer. Deïanira, jealous on account of his passion
for Iole, sent him either a philtre or love potion, which
unintentionally caused his death, or else a tunic smeared on the
inside with a certain kind of pitch, found near Babylon, which, when
thoroughly warmed, stuck fast to his skin; and this it is, most
probably, which has been termed by poets and historians, the tunic
of Nessus. It seems, however, pretty clear that Hercules fell into a
languishing distemper, without any hopes of recovery, and, probably,
in a fit of madness, he threw Lychas into the sea, which
circumstance was made by the poets to account for the existence
there of a rock known by that name.

Proceeding afterwards to Trachyn, he caused Deïanira to hang herself
in despair; and, having consulted the oracle concerning his
distemper, he was ordered to go with his friends to Mount Œta, and
there to raise a funeral pile. He understood the fatal answer, and
immediately prepared to execute its commands. When the pile was
ready, Hercules ascended it, and laid himself down with an air of
resignation, on which Philoctetes kindled the fire, which consumed
him. Some, however, of the ancient authors say, with more
probability, that Hercules died at Trachyn, and that his corpse was
burned on Mount Œta. His apotheosis commenced at the ceremonial of
his funeral, and, from the moment of his death, he was worshipped as
a Demigod. Diodorus Siculus says that it was Iolus who first
introduced this worship. It was also said that, as soon as
Philoctetes had applied fire to the pile, it thundered, and the
lightnings descending from heaven immediately consumed Hercules.
A tomb was raised for him on Mount Œta, with an altar, upon which a
bull, a wild boar, and a he-goat were yearly sacrificed in his
honour, at the time of his festival. The Thebans, and, after them,
the other people of Greece, soon followed the example of the
Trachinians, and temples and altars were raised to him in various
places, where he was honoured as a Demigod.

FABLE III. [IX.273-323]

Juno, to be revenged on Alcmena for her amour with Jupiter, desires
Ilithyïa, the Goddess who presides over births, not to assist her on
the occasion of the birth of Hercules. Lucina complies with her
request, and places herself on an altar at the gate of Alcmena’s
abode, where, by a magic spell, she increases her pains and impedes
her delivery. Galanthis, one of her maids, seeing the Goddess at the
door, imagines that she may possibly exercise some bad influence on
her mistress’s labour, and, to make her retire, declares that
Alcmena is already delivered. Upon Ilithyïa withdrawing, Alcmena’s
pains are assuaged, and Hercules is born. The Goddess, to punish
Galanthis for her officiousness, transforms her into a weazel,
a creature which was supposed to bring forth its young through its
mouth.

Atlas was sensible[29] of this burden. Nor, as yet, had Eurystheus, the son of Sthenelus, laid aside his wrath {against Hercules}; and, in his fury, he vented his hatred for the father against his offspring. But the Argive Alcmena, disquieted with prolonged anxieties {for her son} has Iole, to whom to disclose the complaints of her old age, to whom to relate the achievements of her son attested by {all} the world, or to whom {to tell} her own misfortunes. At the command of Hercules, Hyllus had received her both into his bed and his affections, and had filled her womb with a noble offspring. To her, thus Alcmena began {her story}:--

“May the Gods be propitious to thee at least; and may they shorten the tedious hours, at the hour when, having accomplished thy time, thou shalt be invoking Ilithyïa,[30] who presides over the trembling parturient women; her whom the influence of Juno rendered inexorable to myself. For, when now the natal hour of Hercules, destined for so many toils, was at hand, and the tenth sign {of the Zodiac} was laden with the {great} luminary, the heavy weight was extending my womb; and that which I bore was so great, that you might {easily} pronounce Jupiter to be the father of the concealed burden. And now I was no longer able to endure my labours: even now, too, as I am speaking, a cold shudder seizes my limbs, and a part of my pain is the remembrance of it. Tormented for seven nights, and during as many days, tired out with misery, and extending my arms towards heaven, with loud cries I used to invoke Lucina and the two Nixi.[31] She came, indeed, but corrupted beforehand, and she had the intention to give my life to the vengeful Juno. And when she heard my groans, she seated herself upon that altar before the door, and pressing her left knee with her right knee, her fingers being joined together in {form of} a comb,[32] she retarded my delivery; she uttered charms, too, in a low voice; and {those} charms impeded the birth {now} begun. I struggled hard, and, in my frenzy, I vainly uttered reproaches against the ungrateful Jupiter, and I desired to die, and complained in words that would have moved {even} the hard stones. The Cadmeian matrons attended me, and offered up vows, and encouraged me in my pains.

“There was present one of my hand-maids of the lower class of people, Galanthis {by name}, with yellow hair, {and} active in the execution of my orders; one beloved for her good services. She perceived that something unusual[33] was being done by the resentful Juno; and, while she was often going in and out of the door, she saw the Goddess, sitting upon the altar, and supporting her arms upon her knees, linked by the fingers; and {then} she said, ‘Whoever thou art, congratulate my mistress; the Argive Alcmena is delivered, and, having brought forth, she has gained her wishes.’ The Goddess who presides[34] over pregnancy leaped up, and, struck with surprise, loosened her joined hands. I, myself, on the loosening of those bonds, was delivered. The story is, that Galanthis laughed, upon deceiving the Divinity. The cruel Goddess dragged her along {thus} laughing and seized by her very hair, and she hindered her as she attempted to raise her body from the earth, and changed her arms into fore feet.

“Her former activity {still} remains, and her back has not lost its colour; {but} her shape is different from her former one. Because she had assisted me in labour by a lying mouth, she brings forth from the mouth,[35] and, just as before, she frequents my house.”

[Footnote 29: _Atlas was sensible._--Ver. 273. By reason of his
supporting the heavens, to the inhabitants of which Hercules was
now added.]

[Footnote 30: _Ilithyïa._--Ver. 283. This Goddess is said by some
to have been the daughter of Jupiter and Juno, while other writers
consider her to have been the same either with Diana, or Juno
Lucina.]

[Footnote 31: _The two Nixi._--Ver. 294. Festus says, ‘the three
statues in the Capitol, before the shrine of Minerva, were called
the Gods Nixii.’ Nothing whatever is known of these Gods, who
appear to have been obstetrical Divinities. It has been suggested,
as there were three of them, that the reading should be, not
‘Nixosque pares,’ but ‘Nixosque Lares,’ ‘and the Lares the Nixi.’]

[Footnote 32: _Form of a comb._--Ver. 299. This charm probably was
suggestive of difficult or impeded parturition, the bones of the
pelvis being firmly knit together in manner somewhat resembling
the fingers when inserted one between the other, instead of
yielding for the passage of the infant. Pliny the Elder informs us
how parturition may be impeded by the use of charms.]

[Footnote 33: _Something unusual._--Ver. 309. ‘Nescio quid.’ This
very indefinite phrase is repeatedly used by Ovid; and in such
cases, it expresses either actual doubt or uncertainty, as in the
present instance; or it is used to denote something remarkable or
indescribable, or to show that a thing is insignificant, mean, and
contemptible.]

[Footnote 34: _Goddess who presides._--Ver. 315. This was
Ilithyïa, or Lucina, who was acting as the emissary of Juno.]

[Footnote 35: _From the mouth._--Ver. 323. This notion is supposed
to have been grounded on the fact of the weasel (like many other
animals) carrying her young in her mouth from place to place.]

EXPLANATION.

According to Diodorus Siculus and Apollodorus, Amphitryon was the
son of Alceus, the son of Perseus, and his wife, Alcmena, was the
daughter of Electryon, also the son of Perseus; and thus they were
cousins. When their marriage was about to take place, an unforeseen
accident prevented it. Electryon, who was king of Mycenæ, being
obliged to revenge the death of his children, whom the sons of
Taphius, king of the Teleboans, had killed in combat, returned
victorious, and brought back with him his flocks, which he had
recovered from Taphius. Amphitryon, who went to meet his uncle, to
congratulate him upon the success of his expedition, throwing his
club at a cow, which happened to stray from the herd, unfortunately
killed him. This accidental homicide lost him the kingdom of Mycenæ,
which was to have formed the dower of Alcmena. Sthenelus, the
brother of Electryon, taking advantage of the public indignation,
which was the result of the accident, drove Amphitryon out of the
country of Argos, and made himself master of his brother’s
dominions, which he left, at his death, to his son Eurystheus, the
inveterate persecutor of Hercules.

Amphitryon, obliged to retire to Thebes, was there absolved by
Creon; but when, as he thought, he was about to receive the hand of
Alcmena, who accompanied him to the court of that prince, she
declared that, not being satisfied with the revenge which her father
had taken on the Teleboans, she would consent to be the prize of him
who would undertake to declare war against them. Amphitryon accepted
these conditions, and, forming an alliance with Creon, Cephalus, and
some other princes, made a descent upon the islands which the enemy
possessed, and, making himself master of them, bestowed one of them
on his ally, Cephalus.

It was during this war that Hercules came into the world; and
whether Amphitryon had secretly consummated his marriage before his
departure, or whether he had returned privately to Thebes, or to
Tirynthus, where Hercules was said to have been born, it was
published, that Jupiter, to deceive Alcmena, had taken the form of
her husband, and was the father of the infant Hercules. If this is
not the true explanation of the story, it may have been invented to
conceal some intrigue in which Alcmena was detected; or, in process
of time, to account for the extraordinary strength and valour of
Hercules, it may have been said that Jupiter, and not Amphitryon,
was the father of Hercules. Indeed, we find Seneca, in one of his
Tragedies, putting these words into the mouth of Hercules:--
‘Whether all that has been said upon this subject be held as
undoubted truth, or whether it proves to be but a fable, and that my
father was, after all, in reality, but a mortal; my mother’s fault
is sufficiently effaced by my valour, and I have merit sufficient to
have had Jupiter for my father.’ The more readily, perhaps, to
account for the transcendent strength and prowess of Hercules, the
story was invented, that Jupiter made the night on which he was
received by Alcmena under the form of Amphitryon, as long as three,
or, according to Plautus, Hyginus, and Seneca, nine nights. Some
writers say that Alcmena brought forth twins, one of which,
Iphiclus, was the son of Amphitryon, while Hercules had Jupiter for
his father.

With respect to the metamorphosis of Galanthis, it is but a little
episode here introduced by Ovid, to give greater plausibility to the
other part of the story. It most probably originated in the
resemblance of the names of that slave to that of the weazel, which
the Greeks called γαλῆ. Ælian, indeed, tells us that the Thebans
paid honour to that animal, because it had helped Alcmena in her
labour. The more ancient poets also added, that Juno retarded the
birth of Hercules till the mother of Eurystheus was delivered, which
was the cause of his being the subject of that king; though others
state that this came to pass by the command of the oracle of Delphi.
This king of Mycenæ having ordered him to rid Greece of the numerous
robbers and wild beasts that infested it, it is most probable that,
as we learn from Dionysius of Halicarnassus, he performed this
service at the head of the troops of Eurystheus. If this is the
case, the persecutions which the poets have ascribed to the jealousy
of Juno, really originated either in the policy or the jealousy of
the court of Mycenæ.

As Ovid has here cursorily taken notice of the labours of Hercules,
we may observe, that it is very probable that his history is
embellished with the pretended adventures of many persons who bore
his name, and, perhaps, with those of others besides. Cicero, in his
‘Treatise on the Nature of the Gods,’ mentions six persons who bore
the name of Hercules; and possibly, after a minute examination,
a much greater number might be reckoned, many nations of antiquity
having given the name to such great men of their own as had rendered
themselves famous by their actions. Thus, we find one in Egypt in
the time of Osiris, in Phœnicia, among the Gauls, in Spain, and in
other countries. Confining ourselves to the Grecian Hercules,
surnamed Alcides, we find that his exploits have generally been sung
of by the poets, under the name of the Twelve Labours; but, on
entering into the detail of them, we find them much more numerous.
Killing some serpents in his youth, it was published, not only that
he had done so, but that they had been sent by Juno for the purpose
of destroying him. The forest of Nemea serving as a retreat for a
great number of lions that ravaged the country, Hercules hunted
them, and, killing the most furious of them, always wore his skin.

Several thieves, having made the neighbourhood of Lake Stymphalus,
in Arcadia, their resort, he freed the country of them; the nails
and wings which the poets gave them, in representing them as birds,
being typical of their voracity and activity. The marshes of Lerna,
near Argos, were infested by great numbers of serpents, which, as
fast as they were destroyed, were replaced by new swarms; draining
the marshes, and, probably, setting fire to the adjacent thickets or
jungles, he destroyed these pestilent reptiles, on which it was
fabled that he had destroyed the Hydra of Lerna, with its heads,
which grew as fast as they were cut off. The forest of Erymanthus
was full of wild boars, which laid waste all the neighbouring
country: he destroyed them all, and brought one with him to the
court of Eurystheus, of a size so monstrous, that the king was
alarmed on seeing it, and was obliged to run and hide himself.

The stables of Augeas, king of Elis, were so filled with manure,
by reason of the great quantity of oxen that he kept, that Hercules
being called upon to cleanse them, employed his engineering skill in
bringing the river Alpheus through them. Having pursued a hind for a
whole year, which Eurystheus had commanded him to take, it was
circulated, probably on account of her untiring swiftness, that she
had feet of brass. The river Acheloüs having overflowed the adjacent
country, he raised banks to it, as already mentioned. Theseus was a
prisoner in Epirus, where he had been with Pirithous, to bring away
the daughter of Aidoneus. Hercules delivered him; and that was the
foundation of the Fable which said that he had gone down to Hades,
or Hell. In the cavern of Tænarus there was a monstrous serpent;
this he was ordered to kill, and, probably, this gave rise to the
story of Cerberus being chained by him. Pelias having been killed by
his daughters, his son Acastus pursued them to the court of Admetus,
who, refusing to deliver up Alcestis, of whom he was enamoured, was
taken prisoner in an engagement, and was delivered by that princess,
who herself offered to be his ransom. Hercules being then in
Thessaly, he took her away from Acastus, who was about to put her to
death, and returned her to Admetus. This, probably, was the
foundation of the fable which stated, that he had recovered her from
the Infernal Regions, after having vanquished death, and bound him
in chains.

The Amazons were a nation of great celebrity in the time of
Hercules, and their frequent victories had rendered them very
formidable to their neighbours. Eurystheus ordered him to go and
bring away the girdle of Hippolyta, or, in other words, to make war
upon them, and to pillage their treasures. Embarking on the Euxine
Sea, Hercules arrived on the banks of the Thermodon, and, giving
battle to the female warriors, defeated them; killing some, and
putting the rest to flight. He took Antiope, or Hippolyta, prisoner,
whom he gave to Theseus; but her sister, Menalippa, redeemed herself
by giving up the famous girdle, or, in other words, by paying a
large ransom. It is very probable, that in that expedition, he slew
Diomedes, the barbarous king of Thrace, and brought away his mares,
which were said to have been fed by him on human flesh. In returning
by way of Thessaly, he embarked in the expedition of the Argonauts;
but, leaving them soon afterwards, he went to Troy, and delivered
Hesione from the monster which was to have devoured her; but not
receiving from Laomedon, the king, the recompense which had been
promised him, he killed that prince, sacked the city, and brought
away Hesione, whom he gave to Telamon, who had accompanied him on
the expedition.

This is probably the extent of the labours of Hercules in Greece,
Thrace, and Phrygia. The poets have made him engage in many other
laborious undertakings in distant countries, which most probably
ought not to be attributed to the Grecian Hercules. Among other
stories told of him, it is said, that having set out to fight with
Geryon, the king of Spain, he was so much incommoded by the heat of
the sun, that his wrath was excited against the luminary, and he
fired his arrows at it, on which, the Sun, struck with admiration at
his spirited conduct, made him a present of a golden goblet. After
this, embarking and arriving in Spain, he defeated Geryon, a prince
who was famed for having three heads, which probably either meant
that he reigned over the three Balearic islands of Maiorca, Minorca,
and Iviza, or else that Hercules defeated three princes who were
strictly allied. Having thence passed the straits of Gibraltar to go
over to Africa, he fought with the Giant Antæus, who sought to
oppose his landing. That prince was said to be a son of the Earth,
and was reported to recover fresh strength every time he was thrown
on the ground; consequently, Hercules was obliged to hold him in his
arms, till he had squeezed him to death. The solution of this fable
is most probably that Antæus, always finding succour in a country
where he was known as a powerful monarch, Hercules took measures to
deprive him of aid, by engaging him in a sea fight, and thereby
defeated him, without much trouble, as well as the Pygmies, who were
probably some African tribes of stunted stature, who came to his
assistance.

Hercules, returning from these two expeditions, passed through Gaul
with the herds of Geryon, and went into Italy, where Cacus,
a celebrated robber, who had made the caverns of Mount Aventine his
haunts, having stolen some of his oxen, he, with the assistance,
according to Dionysius of Halicarnassus, of Evander and Faunus,
destroyed him, and shared his spoils with his allies. In his journey
from Africa, Hercules delivered Atlas from the enmity of Busiris,
the tyrant of Egypt, whom he killed; and gave such good advice to
the Mauritanian king, that it was said that he supported the heavens
for some time on his own shoulders, to relieve those of Atlas. The
latter, by way of acknowledgment of his services, made him a present
of several fine sheep, or rather, according to Diodorus Siculus, of
some orange and lemon trees, which he carried with him into Greece.
These were represented as the golden apples watched by a dragon in
the garden of the Hesperides. As the ocean there terminated the
scene of his conquests, he was said to have raised two pillars on
those shores, to signify the fact of his having been there, and the
impossibility of proceeding any further.