Chapter XV: Book THE TENTH: Fable I. X.1-85 (1)

Eurydice, the wife of Orpheus, while sporting in the fields, with
other Nymphs, is bitten by a serpent, which causes her death. After
having mourned for her, Orpheus resolves to go down to the Infernal
Regions in quest of her. Pluto and the Fates consent to her return,
on condition that Orpheus shall not look on her till he is out of
their dominions. His curiosity prevailing, he neglects this
injunction, on which she is immediately snatched away from him,
beyond the possibility of recovery. Upon this occasion, the Poet
relates the story of a shepherd, who was turned into a rock by a
look of Cerberus; and that of Olenus and Lethæa, who were
transformed into stones.

Thence Hymenæus, clad in a saffron-coloured[1] robe, passed through the unmeasured tract of air, and directed his course to the regions of the Ciconians[2], and, in vain, was invoked by the voice of Orpheus. He presented himself indeed, but he brought with him neither auspicious words, nor joyful looks, nor {yet} a happy omen. The torch, too, which he held, was hissing with a smoke that brought tears to the eyes, and as it was, it found no flames amid its waving. The issue was more disastrous than the omens; for the newmade bride, while she was strolling along the grass, attended by a train of Naiads, was killed, having received the sting of a serpent on her ancle.

After the Rhodopeïan bard had sufficiently bewailed her in the upper {realms of} air, that he might try the shades below as well, he dared to descend to Styx by the Tænarian gate, and amid the phantom inhabitants and ghosts that had enjoyed the tomb, he went to Persephone, and him that held these unpleasing realms, the Ruler of the shades; and touching his strings in concert with his words, he thus said, “O ye Deities of the world that lies beneath the earth, to which we {all} come {at last}, each that is born to mortality; if I may be allowed, and you suffer me to speak the truth, laying aside[3] the artful expressions of a deceitful tongue; I have not descended hither {from curiosity} to see dark Tartarus, nor to bind the threefold throat of the Medusæan monster, bristling with serpents. {But} my wife was the cause of my coming; into whom a serpent, trodden upon {by her}, diffused its poison, and cut short her growing years. I was wishful to be able to endure {this}, and I will not deny that I have endeavoured {to do so}. Love has proved the stronger. That God is well known in the regions above. Whether he be so here, too, I am uncertain; but yet I imagine that even here he is; and if the story of the rape of former days is not untrue, ’twas love that united you {two} together. By these places filled with horrors, by this vast Chaos, and by the silence of these boundless realms, I entreat you, weave over again the quick-spun thread {of the life} of Eurydice.

“To you we all belong; and having staid but a little while {above}, sooner or later we {all} hasten to one abode. Hither are we all hastening. This is our last home; and you possess the most lasting dominion over the human race. She, too, when, in due season she shall have completed her allotted {number of} years, will be under your sway. The enjoyment {of her} I beg as a favour. But if the Fates deny me this privilege in behalf of my wife, I have determined that I will not return. Triumph in the death of us both.”

As he said such things, and touched the strings to his words, the bloodless spirits wept. Tantalus did not catch at the retreating water, and the wheel of Ixion stood still, {as though} in amazement; the birds did not tear the liver {of Tityus}; and the granddaughters of Belus paused at their urns; thou, too, Sisyphus, didst seat thyself on thy stone. The story is, that then, for the first time, the cheeks of the Eumenides, overcome by his music, were wet with tears; nor could the royal consort, nor he who rules the infernal regions, endure to deny him his request; and they called for Eurydice. She was among the shades newly arrived, and she advanced with a slow pace, by reason of her wound.

The Rhodopeïan hero receives her, and, at the same time, {this} condition, that he turn not back his eyes until he has passed the Avernian vallies, or else that the grant will be revoked. The ascending path is mounted in deep silence, steep, dark, and enveloped in deepening gloom. And {now} they were not far from the verge of the upper earth. He, enamoured, fearing lest she should flag, and impatient to behold her, turned his eyes; and immediately she sank back again. She, hapless one! both stretching out her arms, and struggling to be grasped, and to grasp him, caught nothing but the fleeting air. And now, dying a second time, she did not at all complain of her husband; for why should she complain of being beloved? And now she pronounced the last farewell, which scarcely did he catch with his ears; and again was she hurried back to the same place.

No otherwise was Orpheus amazed at this twofold death of his wife, than he who, trembling, beheld the three necks[4] of the dog, the middle one supporting chains; whom fear did not forsake, before his former nature {deserted him}, as stone gathered over his body: and {than} Olenus,[5] who took on himself the crime {of another}, and was willing to appear guilty; and {than} thou, unhappy Lethæa, confiding in thy beauty; breasts, once most united, now rocks, which the watery Ida supports. The ferryman drove him away entreating, and, in vain, desiring again to cross {the stream}. Still, for seven days, in squalid guise[6] did he sit on the banks without the gifts of Ceres. Vexation, and sorrow of mind, and tears were his sustenance. Complaining that the Deities of Erebus[7] were cruel, he betook himself to lofty Rhodope, and Hæmus,[8] buffeted by the North winds. The third Titan had {now} ended the year bounded by the Fishes of the ocean;[9] and Orpheus had avoided all intercourse with woman, either because it had ended in misfortune to him, or because he had given a promise {to that effect}. Yet a passion possessed many a female to unite herself to the bard, {and} many a one grieved when repulsed. He also was the {first} adviser of the people of Thrace to transfer their affections to tender youths; and, on this side of manhood, to enjoy the short spring of life, and its early flowers.

[Footnote 1: _Saffron-coloured._--Ver. 1. This was in order to be
dressed in a colour similar to that of the ‘flammeum,’ which was a
veil of a bright yellow colour, worn by the bride. This custom
prevailed among the Romans, among whom the shoes worn by the bride
were of the same colour with the veil.]

[Footnote 2: _Ciconians._--Ver. 2. These were a people of Thrace,
near the river Hebrus and the Bistonian Lake.]

[Footnote 3: _Laying aside._--Ver. 19. ‘Falsi positis ambagibus
oris,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘Laying aside all the long-winded
fetches of a false tongue.’]

[Footnote 4: _The three necks._--Ver. 65. There was a story among
the ancients, that when Cerberus was dragged by Hercules from the
Infernal Regions, a certain man, through fear of Hercules, hid
himself in a cave; and that on peeping out, and beholding
Cerberus, he was changed into a stone by his fright. Suidas says,
that in his time the stone was still to be seen, and that the
story gave rise to a proverb.]

[Footnote 5: _Olenus._--Ver. 69. Olenus, who was supposed to be
the son of Vulcan, had a beautiful wife, whose name was Lethæa.
When about to be punished for comparing her own beauty to that of
the Goddesses, Olenus offered to submit to the penalty in her
stead, on which they were both changed into stones.]

[Footnote 6: _In squalid guise._--Ver. 74. ‘Squallidus in
ripa--sedit,’ is rendered by Clarke, ‘He sat in a sorry pickle on
the bank.’]

[Footnote 7: _Erebus._--Ver. 76. Erebus was the son of Chaos and
Darkness; but his name is often used to signify the Infernal
Regions.]

[Footnote 8: _Hæmus._--Ver. 77. This was a mountain of Thrace,
which was much exposed to the North winds.]

[Footnote 9: _Fishes of the ocean._--Ver. 78. ‘Pisces,’ ‘the
Fishes,’ being the last sign of the Zodiac, when the sun has
passed through it, the year is completed.]

EXPLANATION.

Though Ovid has separated the adventures of Orpheus, whose death he
does not relate till the beginning of the eleventh Book, we will
here shortly enter upon an examination of some of the more important
points of his history.

As, in his time, Poetry and Music were in a very low state of
perfection, and as he excelled in both of those arts, it was said
that he was the son of Apollo and the Muse Calliope; and it was
added, that he charmed lions and tigers, and made even the trees
sensible of the melodious tones of his lyre. These were mere
hyperbolical expressions, which signified the wondrous charms of his
eloquence and of his music combined, which he employed in
cultivating the genius of a savage and uncouth people. Some
conjecture that this personage originally came from Asia into
Thrace, and suppose that he, together with Linus and Eumolpus,
brought poetry and music into Greece, the use of which, till then,
was unknown in that country; and that they introduced, at the same
time, the worship of Ceres, Mars, and the orgies of Bacchus, which,
from him who instituted them, received their name of ‘Orphica.’
Orpheus, too, is supposed to have united the office of high priest
with that of king. Horace styles him the interpreter of the Gods;
and he was said to have interposed with the Deities for the
deliverance of the Argonauts from a dangerous tempest. It is thought
that he passed some part of his life in Egypt, and became acquainted
with many particulars of the ancient religion of the Egyptians,
which he introduced into the theology of Greece. Some modern writers
even go so far as to suggest that he learned from the Hebrews, who
were then sojourning in Egypt, the knowledge of the true God.

His wife, Eurydice, dying very young, he was inconsolable for her
loss. To alleviate his grief, he went to Thesprotia, in Epirus, the
natives of which region were said to possess incantations, for the
purpose of raising the ghosts of the departed. Here, according to
some accounts, being deceived by a phantom, which was made to appear
before him, he died of sorrow; but, according to other writers,
he renounced the society of mankind for ever and retired to the
mountains of Thrace. His journey to that distant country gave
occasion to say, that he descended to the Infernal Regions. This is
the more likely, as he is supposed to have there promulgated his
notions of the infernal world, which, according to Diodorus Siculus,
he had learned among the Egyptians.

Tzetzes, however, assures us that this part of his history is
founded on the circumstance, that Orpheus cured his wife of the bite
of a serpent, which had till then been considered to be mortal; and
that the poets gave an hyperbolical version of the story, in saying
that he had rescued her from Hell. He says, too, that he had learned
in Egypt the art of magic, which was much cultivated there, and
especially the method of charming serpents.

After the loss of his wife, he retired to mount Rhodope, to assuage
the violence of his grief. There, according to Ovid and other poets,
the Mænades, or Bacchanals, to be revenged for his contempt of them
and their rites, tore him in pieces; which story is somewhat
diversified by the writers who relate that Venus, exasperated
against Calliope, the mother of Orpheus, for having adjudged to
Proserpine the possession of Adonis, caused the women of Thrace to
become enamoured of her son, and to tear him in pieces while
disputing the possession of him. An ancient author, quoted by
Hyginus, says that Orpheus was killed by the stroke of a
thunderbolt, while he was accompanying the Argonauts; and
Apollodorus says the same. Diodorus Siculus calls him one of the
kings of Thrace; while other writers, among whom are Cicero and
Aristotle, assert that there never was such a person as Orpheus. The
learned Vossius says, that the Phœnician word ‘ariph,’ which
signifies ‘learned,’ gave rise to the story of Orpheus. Le Clerc
thinks that in consequence of the same Greek word signifying ‘an
enchanter,’ and also meaning ‘a singer,’ he acquired the reputation
of having been a most skilful magician.

We may, perhaps, safely conclude, that Orpheus really did introduce
the worship of many Gods into Greece; and that, possibly, while he
promulgated the necessity of expiating crimes, he introduced
exorcism, and brought magic into fashion in Greece. Lucian affirms
that he was also the first to teach the elements of astronomy.
Several works were attributed to him, which are now no longer in
existence; among which were a Poem on the Expedition of the
Argonauts, one on the War of the Giants, another on the Rape of
Proserpine, and a fourth upon the Labours of Hercules. The Poem on
the Argonautic Expedition, which now exists, and is attributed to
him, is supposed to have been really written by a poet named
Onomacritus, who lived in the sixth century B.C., in the time of
Pisistratus.

After his death, Orpheus was reckoned in the number of Heroes or
Demigods; and we are informed by Philostratus that his head was
preserved at Lesbos, where it gave oracular responses. Orpheus is
not mentioned by Homer or Hesiod. The learned scholar Lobeck, in his
Aglaophamus, has entered very deeply into an investigation of the
real nature of the discoveries and institutions ascribed to him.

FABLE II. [X.86-105]

Orpheus, retiring to Mount Rhodope, by the charms of his music,
attracts to himself all kinds of creatures, rocks, and trees; among
the latter is the pine tree, only known since the transformation of
Attis.

There was a hill, and upon the hill a most level space of a plain, which the blades of grass made green: {all} shade was wanting in the spot. After the bard, sprung from the Gods, had seated himself in this place, and touched his tuneful strings, a shade came over the spot. The tree of Chaonia[10] was not absent, nor the grove of the Heliades,[11] nor the mast-tree with its lofty branches, nor the tender lime-trees, nor yet the beech, and the virgin laurel,[12] and the brittle hazels, and the oak, adapted for making spears, and the fir without knots, and the holm bending beneath its acorns, and the genial plane-tree,[13] and the parti-coloured maple,[14] and, together with them, the willows growing by the rivers, and the watery lotus, and the evergreen box, and the slender tamarisks, and the two-coloured myrtle, and the tine-tree,[15] with its azure berries.

You, too, the ivy-trees, with your creeping tendrils, came, and together, the branching vines, and the elms clothed with vines; the ashes, too, and the pitch-trees, and the arbute, laden with its blushing fruit, and the bending palm,[16] the reward of the conqueror; the pine, too, with its tufted foliage,[17] and bristling at the top, pleasing to the Mother of the Gods; since for this the Cybeleïan Attis put off the human form, and hardened into that trunk.

[Footnote 10: _Tree of Chaonia._--Ver. 90. This was the oak, for
the growth of which Chaonia, a province of Epirus, was famous.]

[Footnote 11: _Grove of the Heliades._--Ver. 91. He alludes to the
poplars, into which tree, as we have already seen, the Heliades,
or daughters of the sun, were changed after the death of Phaëton.]

[Footnote 12: _Virgin laurel._--Ver. 92. The laurel is so styled
from the Virgin Daphne, who refused to listen to the solicitations
of Apollo.]

[Footnote 13: _Genial plane-tree._--Ver. 95. The plane tree was
much valued by the ancients, as affording, by its extending
branches, a pleasant shade to festive parties. Virgil says, in the
Fourth Book of the Georgics, line 146, ‘Atque ministrantem
platanum potantibus umbram,’ ‘And the plane-tree that gives its
shade for those that carouse.’]

[Footnote 14: _Parti-coloured maple._--Ver. 95. The grain of the
maple being of a varying colour, it was much valued by the
ancients, for the purpose of making articles of furniture.]

[Footnote 15: _The tine tree._--Ver. 98. The ‘tinus,’ or ‘tine
tree,’ according to Pliny the Elder, was a wild laurel, with green
berries.]

[Footnote 16: _The bending palm._--Ver. 102. The branches of the
palm were remarkable for their flexibility, while no
superincumbent weight could break them. On this account they were
considered as emblematical of victory.]

[Footnote 17: _Tufted foliage._--Ver. 103. The pine is called
‘succincta,’ because it sends forth its branches from the top, and
not from the sides.]

EXPLANATION.

The story of Attis, or Athis, here briefly referred to, is related
by the ancient writers in many different ways; so much so, that it
is not possible to reconcile the discrepancy that exists between
them. From Diodorus Siculus we learn that Cybele, the daughter of
Mæon, King of Phrygia, falling in love with a young shepherd named
Attis, her father ordered him to be put to death. In despair, at the
loss of her lover, Cybele left her father’s abode, and, accompanied
by Marsyas, crossed the mountains of Phrygia. Apollo, (or, as
Vossius supposes, some priest of that God,) touched with the
misfortunes of the damsel, took her to the country of the
Hyperboreans in Scythia, where she died. Some time after, the plague
ravaging Phrygia, and the oracle being consulted, an answer was
returned, that, to ensure the ceasing of the contagion, they must
look for the body of Attis, and give it funeral rites, and render to
Cybele the same honour which they were wont to pay to the Gods: all
which was done with such scrupulous care, that in time she became
one of the most esteemed Divinities.

Arnobius, says that Attis was a shepherd, with whom Cybele fell in
love in her old age. Unmoved by her rank, and repelled by her faded
charms, he despised her advances. Midas, King of Pessinus, on seeing
this, destined his own daughter, Agdistis, for the young Attis.
Fearing the resentment of Cybele, he caused the gates of the city to
be shut on the day on which the marriage was to be solemnized.
Cybele being informed of this, hastened to Pessinus, and, destroying
the gates, met with Attis, who had concealed himself behind a pine
tree, and caused him to be emasculated; on which Agdistis committed
self-destruction in a fit of sorrow.

Servius, Lactantius, and St. Augustine, give another version of the
story, which it is not necessary here to enlarge upon, any farther
than to say, that it depicts the love of a powerful queen for a
young man who repulsed her advances. Ovid, also, gives a similar
account in the fourth Book of the Fasti, line 220. Other authors,
quoted by Arnobius, have given some additional circumstances, the
origin of which it is almost impossible to guess at. They say that a
female called Nana, by touching a pomegranate or an almond tree,
which grew from the blood of Agdistis whom Bacchus had slain,
conceived Attis, who afterwards became very dear to Cybele.

All that we can conclude from these accounts, and more especially
from that given by Ovid in the Fasti, is, that the worship of Cybele
being established in Phrygia, Attis was one of her priests; and
that, as he led the example of mutilating himself, all her other
priests, who were called Galli, submitted to a similar operation,
to the great surprise of the uninitiated, who were not slow in
inventing some wonderful story to account for an act so
extraordinary.

FABLE III. [X.106-142]

Cyparissus is about to kill himself for having slain, by accident,
a favourite deer; but, before he is able to execute his design,
Apollo transforms him into a Cypress.

Amid this throng was present the cypress, resembling the cone,[18] now a tree, {but} once a youth, beloved by that God who fits the lyre with the strings, and the bow with strings. For there was a large stag, sacred to the Nymphs who inhabit the Carthæan fields; and, with his horns extending afar, he himself afforded an ample shade to his own head. His horns were shining with gold, and a necklace studded with gems,[19] falling upon his shoulders, hung down from his smooth round neck; a silver ball,[20] fastened with little straps, played upon his forehead; and pendants of brass,[21] of equal size, shone on either ear around his hollow temples. He, too, void of fear, and laying aside his natural timorousness, used to frequent the houses, and to offer his neck to be patted by any hands, even though unknown {to him}.

But yet, above all others, he was pleasing to thee, Cyparissus, most beauteous of the nation of Cea.[22] Thou wast wont to lead the stag to new pastures, and to the streams of running waters; sometimes thou didst wreathe flowers of various colours about his horns, and at other times, seated on his back, {like} a horseman, {first} in this direction and {then} in that, thou didst guide his easy mouth with the purple bridle. ’Twas summer and the middle of the day, and the bending arms of the Crab, that loves the sea-shore, were glowing with the heat of the sun; the stag, fatigued, was reclining his body on the grassy earth, and was enjoying the coolness from the shade of a tree. By inadvertence the boy Cyparissus pierced him with a sharp javelin; and, when he saw him dying from the cruel wound, he resolved to attempt to die {as well}. What consolations did not Phœbus apply? and he advised him to grieve with moderation, and according to the occasion. Still did he lament, and as a last favour, he requested this of the Gods above, that he might mourn for ever. And now, his blood quite exhausted by incessant weeping, his limbs began to be changed into a green colour, and the hair, which but lately hung from his snow-white forehead, to become a rough bush, and, a stiffness being assumed, to point to the starry heavens with a tapering top. The God {Phœbus} lamented deeply, and in his sorrow he said, “Thou shalt be mourned by me, and shalt mourn for others, and shalt {ever} attend upon those who are sorrowing[23] {for the dead}.”

[Footnote 18: _Resembling the cone._--Ver. 106. In the Roman
Circus for the chariot races, a low wall ran lengthways down the
course, which, from its resemblance in position to the spinal
bone, was called by the name of ‘spina.’ At each extremity of this
‘spina,’ there were placed upon a base, three large cones, or
pyramids of wood, in shape very much like cypress trees, to which
fact allusion is here made. They were called ‘metæ,’ ‘goals.’]

[Footnote 19: _Studded with gems._--Ver. 113. Necklaces were much
worn in ancient times by the Indians, Persians, and Egyptians.
They were more especially used by the Greek and Roman females as
bridal ornaments. The ‘monile baccatum,’ or ‘bead necklace,’ was
the most common, being made of berries, glass, or other materials,
strung together. They were so strung with thread, silk, or wire,
and links of gold. Emeralds seem to have been much used for this
purpose, and amber was also similarly employed. Thus Ovid says,
in the second Book of the Metamorphoses, line 366, that the amber
distilled from the trees, into which the sisters of Phaëton were
changed, was sent to be worn by the Latian matrons. Horses and
favourite animals, as in the present instance, were decked with
‘monilia,’ or necklaces.]

[Footnote 20: _A silver ball._--Ver. 114. The ‘bulla’ was a ball
of metal, so called from its resemblance in shape to a bubble of
water. These were especially worn by the Roman children, suspended
from the neck, and were mostly made of thin plates of gold, being
of about the size of a walnut. The use of these ornaments was
derived from the people of Etruria; and though originally worn
only by the children of the Patricians, they were subsequently
used by all of free birth. The children of the Libertini, or
‘freedmen,’ indeed wore ‘bullæ,’ but they were only made of
leather. The ‘bulla’ was laid aside at the same time as the ‘toga
prætexta,’ and was on that occasion consecrated to the Lares. The
bulls of the Popes of Rome, received their names from this word;
the ornament which was pendent from the rescript or decree being
used to signify the document itself.]

[Footnote 21: _Pendants of brass._--Ver. 116. The ear-ring was
called among the Greeks ἐνώτιον, and by the Romans ‘inauris.’ The
Greeks also called it ἐλλόβιον, from its being inserted in the
lobe of the ear. Earrings were worn by both sexes among the
Lydians, Persians, Libyans, Carthaginians, and other nations.
Among the Greeks and Romans, the females alone were in the habit
of wearing them. As with us, the ear-ring consisted of a ring and
drop, the ring being generally of gold, though bronze was
sometimes used by the common people. Pearls, especially those of
elongated form, which were called ‘elenchi,’ were very much valued
for pendants.]

[Footnote 22: _Nation of Cea._--Ver. 120. Cea was one of the
Cyclades, and Carthæa was one of its four cities.]

[Footnote 23: _Who are sorrowing._--Ver. 142. The Poet in this
manner accounts for the Roman custom of placing branches of
Cypress before the doors of houses in which a dead body lay. Pliny
the Elder says, that the Cypress was sacred to Pluto, and that for
that reason it was used at funerals, and was placed upon the pile.
Varro says, that it was used for the purpose of removing, by its
own strong scent, the bad smell of the spot where the bodies were
burnt, and also of the bodies themselves. It was also said to be
so used, because, when once its bark is cut, it withers, and is
consequently emblematical of the frail tenure of human life.]

EXPLANATION.

Cyparissus, who, according to Ovid was born at Carthæa, a town in
the isle of Cea, was probably a youth of considerable poetical
talent and proficiency in the polite arts, which caused him to be
deemed the favourite of Apollo. His transformation into a Cypress is
founded on the resemblance between their names, that tree being
called by the Greeks κυπάρισσος. The conclusion of the story is that
Apollo, to console himself, enjoined that the Cypress tree should be
the symbol of sorrow, or in other words that it should be used at
funerals and be planted near graves and sepulchres; which fiction
was most likely founded on the fact, that the tree was employed for
those purposes; perhaps because its branches, almost destitute of
leaves, have a somewhat melancholy aspect.

Some ancient writers also tell us that Cyparissus was a youth
beloved by the God Sylvanus, for which reason that God is often
represented with branches of Cypress in his hand.

FABLE IV. [X.143-161]

Jupiter, charmed with the beauty of the youth Ganymede, transforms
himself into an Eagle, for the purpose of carrying him off. He is
taken up into Heaven, and is made the Cup-bearer of the Divinities.

Such a grove {of trees} had the bard attracted {round him}, and he sat in the midst of an assembly of wild beasts, and of a multitude of birds. When he had sufficiently tried the strings struck with his thumb, and perceived that the various tones, though they gave different sounds, {still} harmonize, in this song he raised his voice: “Begin, my parent Muse, my song from Jove, all things submit to the sway of Jove. By me, often before has the power of Jove been sung. In loftier strains have I sung of the Giants, and the victorious thunderbolts scattered over the Phlegræan plains.[24] Now is there occasion for a softer lyre; and let us sing of youths beloved by the Gods above, and of girls surprised by unlawful flames, who, by their wanton desires, have been deserving of punishment.

“The king of the Gods above was once inflamed with a passion for Ganymede, and something was found that Jupiter preferred to be, rather than what he was. Yet into no bird does he vouchsafe to be transformed, but that which can carry his bolts.[25] And no delay {is there}. Striking the air with his fictitious wings, he carries off the youth of Ilium; who even now mingles his cups {for him}, and, much against the will of Juno, serves nectar to Jove.”

[Footnote 24: _Phlegræan plains._--Ver. 151. Some authors place
the Phlegræan {plains} near Cumæ, in Italy, and say that in a spot
near there, much impregnated with sulphur, Jupiter, aided by
Hercules and the other Deities, conquered the Giants with his
lightnings. Others say that their locality was in that part of
Macedonia which was afterwards called Pallene; others again,
in Thessaly, or Thrace.]

[Footnote 25: _Carry his bolts._--Ver. 158. The eagle was feigned
to be the attendant bird of Jove, among other reasons, because it
was supposed to fly higher than any other bird, to be able to fix
its gaze on the sun without being dazzled, and never to receive
injury from lightning. It was also said to have been the
armour-bearer of Jupiter in his wars against the Titans, and to
have carried his thunderbolts.]

EXPLANATION.

The rape of Ganymede is probably based upon an actual occurrence,
which may be thus explained. Tros, the king of Troy, having
conquered several of his neighbours, as Eusebius, Cedrenus, and
Suidas relate, sent his son Ganymede into Lydia, accompanied by
several of the nobles of his court, to offer sacrifice in the temple
dedicated to Jupiter; Tantalus, the king of that country, who was
ignorant of the designs of the Trojan king, took his people for
spies, and put Ganymede in prison. He having been arrested in a
temple of Jupiter, by order of a prince, whose ensign was an eagle,
it gave occasion for the report that he had been carried off by
Jupiter in the shape of an eagle.

The reason why Jupiter is said to have made Ganymede his cup-bearer
is difficult to conjecture, unless we suppose that he had served his
father, in that employment at the Trojan court. The poets say that
he was placed by the Gods among the Constellations, where he shines
as Aquarius, or the Water-bearer.

The capture of Ganymede occasioned a protracted and bloody war
between Tros and Tantalus; and after their death, Ilus, the son of
Tros, continued it against Pelops, the son of Tantalus, and obliged
him to quit his kingdom and retire to the court of Œnomaüs, king of
Pisa, whose daughter he married, and by her had a son named Atreus,
who was the father of Agamemnon and Menelaüs. Thus we see that
probably Paris, the great grandson of Tros, carried off Helen, as a
reprisal on Menelaüs, the great grandson of Tantalus, the persecutor
of Ganymede. Agamemnon did not fail to turn this fact to his own
advantage, by putting the Greeks in mind of the evils which his
family had suffered from the kings of Troy.

FABLE V. [X.162-219]

As Apollo is playing at quoits with the youth Hyacinthus, one of
them, thrown by the Divinity, rebounds from the earth, and striking
Hyacinthus on the head, kills him. From his blood springs up the
flower which still bears his name.

“Phœbus would have placed thee too, descendant of Amycla,[26] in the heavens, if the stern Fates had given him time to place thee there. Still, so far as is possible, thou art immortal; and as oft as the spring drives away the winter, and the Ram succeeds the watery Fish, so often dost thou spring up and blossom upon the green turf. Thee, beyond {all} others, did my father love, and Delphi, situate in the middle[27] of the earth, was without its guardian {Deity}, while the God was frequenting the Eurotas, and the unfortified Sparta;[28] and neither his lyre nor his arrows were {held} in esteem {by him}.

“Unmindful of his own dignity, he did not refuse to carry the nets, or to hold the dogs, or to go, as his companion, over the ridges of the rugged mountains; and by lengthened intimacy he augmented his flame. And now Titan was almost in his mid course between the approaching and the past night, and was at an equal distance from them both; {when} they stripped their bodies of their garments, and shone with the juice of the oily olive, and engaged in the game of the broad quoit.[29] First, Phœbus tossed it, well poised, into the airy breeze, and clove the opposite clouds with its weight. After a long pause, the heavy mass fell on the hard ground, and showed skill united with strength. Immediately the Tænarian youth,[30] in his thoughtlessness, and urged on by eagerness for the sport, hastened to take up the circlet; but the hard ground sent it back into the air with a rebound against thy face, Hyacinthus.

“Equally as pale as the youth does the Divinity himself turn; and he bears up thy sinking limbs; and at one moment he cherishes thee, at another, he stanches thy sad wound; {and} now he stops the fleeting life by the application of herbs. His skill is of no avail. The wound is incurable. As if, in a well-watered garden, any one should break down violets, or poppies, and lilies, as they adhere to their yellow stalks; drooping, they would suddenly hang down their languid heads, and could not support themselves; and would look towards the ground with their tops. So sink his dying features; and, forsaken by its vigour, the neck is a burden to itself, and reclines upon the shoulder. ‘Son of Œbalus,’ says Phœbus, ‘thou fallest, deprived of thy early youth; and I look on thy wound as my own condemnation. Thou art {the object of} my grief, and {the cause of} my crime. With thy death is my right hand to be charged; I am the author of thy destruction. Yet what is my fault? unless to engage in sport can be termed a fault; unless it can be called a fault, too, to have loved thee. And oh! that I could give my life for thee, or together with thee; but since I am restrained by the decrees of destiny, thou shalt ever be with me, and shalt dwell on my mindful lips. The lyre struck with my hand, my songs, too, shall celebrate thee; and, {becoming} a new flower, by the inscription {on thee}, thou shalt imitate[31] my lamentations. The time, too, shall come, at which a most valiant hero[32] shall add his {name} to this flower, and it shall be read upon the same leaves.’

“While such things are being uttered by the prophetic lips of Apollo, behold! the blood which, poured on the ground, has stained the grass, ceases to be blood, and a flower springs up, more bright than the Tyrian purple, and it assumes the appearance which lilies {have}, were there not in this a purple hue, {and} in them that of silver. This was not enough for Phœbus, for ’twas he that was the author of this honour. He himself inscribed his own lamentations on the leaves, and the flower has ‘ai, ai,’ inscribed {thereon}; and the mournful characters[33] {there} are traced. Nor is Sparta ashamed to have given birth to Hyacinthus; and his honours continue to the present time; the Hyacinthian festival[34] returns, too, each year, to be celebrated with the prescribed ceremonials, after the manner of former {celebrations}.”

[Footnote 26: _Descendant of Amycla._--Ver. 162. Hyacinthus is
here called Amyclides, as though being the son of Amycla, whereas,
in line 196 he is called ‘Œbalides,’ as though the son of Œbalus.
Pausamas and Apollodorus (in one instance) say that he was the son
of Amycla, the Lacedæmonian, who founded the city of Amyclæ;
though, in another place, Apollodorus says that Piërus was his
father. On the other hand, Hyginus, Lucian, and Servius say that
he was the son of Œbalus. Some explain ‘Amyclide,’ as meaning
‘born at Amyclæ;’ and, indeed, Claudian says that he was born
there. Others, again, would have Œbalide to signify ‘born at
Œbalia.’ But, if he was the son of Amycla, this could not be the
signification, as Œbalia was founded by Œbalus, who was the
grandson of Amycla. The poet, most probably, meant to style him
the descendant of Amycla, as being his great grandson, and the son
of Œbalus. Again, in the 217th line of this Book, the Poet says
that he was born at Sparta; but, in the fifth Book of the Fasti,
line 223, he mentions Therapnæ, a town of Laconia, as having been
his birthplace. Perizonius thinks that Ovid has here inadvertently
confounded the different versions of the story of Hyacinthus.]

[Footnote 27: _In the middle._--Ver. 168. Delphi, situated on a
ridge of Parnassus, was styled the navel of the world, as it was
supposed to be situate in the middle of the earth. The story was,
that Jupiter, having let go two eagles, or pigeons, at the
opposite extremities of the earth, with the view of ascertaining
the central spot of it, they met in their flight at this place.]

[Footnote 28: _Unfortified Sparta._--Ver. 169. Sparta was not
fortified, because Lycurgus considered that it ought to trust for
its defence to nothing but the valour and patriotism of its
citizens.]

[Footnote 29: _The broad quoit._--Ver. 177. The ‘discus,’ or
quoit, of the ancients, was made of brass, iron, stone, or wood,
and was about ten or twelve inches in diameter. Sometimes, a heavy
mass of iron, of spherical form, was thrown instead of the
‘discus.’ It was perforated in the middle, and a rope or thong
being passed through, was used in throwing it.]

[Footnote 30: _The Tænarian youth._--Ver. 183. Hyacinthus is so
called, not as having been born there, but because Tænarus was a
famous headland or promontory of Laconia, his native country.]

[Footnote 31: _Thou shalt imitate._--Ver. 206. The blood of
Hyacinthus, changing into a flower, according to the ideas of the
poets, the words Αἰ, Αἰ, expressive, in the Greek language, of
lamentation, were said to be impressed on its leaves.]

[Footnote 32: _Most valiant hero._--Ver. 207. He alludes to Ajax,
the son of Telamon, from whose blood, when he slew himself,
a similar flower was said to have arisen, with the letters Αἰ, Αἰ,
on its leaves, expressive either of grief, or denoting the first
two letters of his name, Αἴας. See Book xiii. line 397. The
hyacinth was the emblem of death, among the ancient Greeks.]

[Footnote 33: _Mournful characters._--Ver. 216. The letters are
called ‘funesta,’ because the words αἰ, αἰ were the expressions of
lamentation at funerals.]

[Footnote 34: _Hyacinthian festival._--Ver. 219. The Hyacinthia
was a festival celebrated every year at Amyclæ, in Laconia, by the
people of that town and of Sparta. Some writers say that it was
held solely in honour of Apollo; others, of Hyacinthus; but it is
much more probable, that it was intended to be in honour of both
Apollo and Hyacinthus. The festival lasted for three days, and
began on the longest day of the Spartan month, Hecatombæus. On the
first and last day, sacrifices were offered to the dead, and the
fate of Hyacinthus was lamented. Garlands were forbidden to be
worn on those days, bread was not allowed to be eaten, and no
songs were recited in praise of Apollo. On the second day,
rejoicing and amusements prevailed; the praises of Apollo were
sung, and horse races were celebrated; after which, females,
riding in chariots made of wicker-work, and splendidly adorned,
formed a beautiful procession. On this day, sacrifices were
offered, and the citizens kept open houses for their friends and
relations. Athenæus mentions a favourite meal of the Laconians on
this occasion, which was called κοπίς, and consisted of cakes,
bread, meat, broth, raw herbs, figs, and other fruits, with the
seeds of the lupine. Macrobius says, that chaplets of ivy were
worn at the Hyacinthia; but, of course, that remark can only apply
to the second day. Even when they had taken the field against an
enemy, the people of Amyclæ were in the habit of returning home on
the approach of the Hyacinthia, to celebrate that festival.]

EXPLANATION.

Hyacinthus, as Pausanias relates, was a youth of Laconia. His father
educated him with so much care, that he was looked upon as the
favourite of Apollo, and of the Muses. As he was one day playing
with his companions, he unfortunately received a blow on the head
from a quoit, from the effects of which he died soon after. Some
funeral verses were probably composed on the occasion; in which it
was said, with the view of comforting his relations, that Boreas,
jealous of the affection which Apollo had evinced for the youth, had
turned aside the quoit with which they played; and thus, by degrees,
in length of time the name of Apollo became inseparably connected
with the story.

The Lacedæmonians each year celebrated a solemn festival near his
tomb, where they offered sacrifices to him; and we are told by
Athenæus, that they instituted games in his honour, which were
called after his name. Pausanias makes mention of his tomb, upon
which he says was engraved the figure of Apollo. His alleged change
into the flower of the same name is probably solely owing to the
similarity of their names. It is not very clear what flower it is
that was known to the ancients under the name of Hyacinthus.
Dioscorides believes it to be that called ‘vaccinium’ by the Romans,
which is of a purple colour, and on which can be traced, though
imperfectly, the letters αἰ (alas!) mentioned by Ovid. The
lamentations of Apollo, on the death of Hyacinthus, formed the
subject of bitter, and, indeed, deserved raillery, for several of
the satirical writers among the ancients.

FABLE VI. [X.220-242]

Venus, incensed at the Cerastæ for polluting the island of Cyprus,
which is sacred to her, with the human sacrifices which they offer
to their Gods, transforms them into bulls; and the Propœtides, as a
punishment for their dissolute conduct, are transformed into rocks.

“But if, perchance, you were to ask of Amathus,[35] abounding in metals, whether she would wish to have produced the Propœtides; she would deny it, as well as those whose foreheads were of old rugged with two horns, from which they also derived the name of Cerastæ. Before the doors of these was standing an altar of Jupiter Hospes,[36] {a scene} of tragic horrors; if any stranger had seen it stained with blood, he would have supposed that sucking calves had been killed there, and Amathusian sheep;[37] strangers were slain there. Genial Venus, offended at the wicked sacrifices {there offered}, was preparing to abandon her own cities and the Ophiusian lands.[38] ‘But how,’ said she, ‘have these delightful spots, how have my cities offended? What criminality is there in them? Let the inhuman race rather suffer punishment by exile or by death, or if there is any middle course between death and exile; and what can that be, but the punishment of changing their shape?’

“While she is hesitating into what she shall change them, she turns her eyes towards their horns, and is put in mind that those may be left to them; and {then} she transforms their huge limbs into {those of} fierce bulls.

“And yet the obscene Propœtides presumed to deny that Venus is a Goddess; for which they are reported the first {of all women} to have prostituted their bodies,[39] with their beauty, through the anger of the Goddess. And when their shame was gone, and the blood of their face was hardened, they were, by a slight transition, changed into hard rocks.”

[Footnote 35: _Amathus._--Ver. 220. Amathus was a city of Cyprus,
sacred to Venus, and famous for the mines in its neighbourhood.]

[Footnote 36: _Jupiter Hospes._--Ver. 224. Jupiter, in his
character of Ζεῦς ξένιος, was the guardian and protector of
travellers and wayfarers.]

[Footnote 37: _Amathusian sheep._--Ver. 227. Amathusia was one of
the names of the island of Cyprus.]

[Footnote 38: _Ophiusian lands._--Ver. 229. Cyprus was anciently
called Ophiusia, on account of the number of serpents that
infested it; ὄφις being the Greek for a serpent.]

[Footnote 39: _Their bodies._--Ver. 240. The women of Cyprus were
notorious for the levity of their character. We learn from
Herodotus that they had recourse to prostitution to raise their
marriage portions.]

EXPLANATION.

The Cerastæ, a people of the island of Cyprus, were, perhaps, said
to have been changed into bulls, to show the barbarous nature and
rustic manners of those islanders, who stained their altars with the
blood of strangers, in sacrifice to the Gods.

An equivocation of names also, probably, aided in originating the
story. The island of Cyprus is surrounded with promontories which
rise out of the sea, and whose pointed rocks appear at a distance
like horns, from which it had the name of Cerastis, the Greek word
κέρας, signifying a ‘horn.’ Thus, the inhabitants having the name of
Cerastæ, it was most easy to invent a fiction of their having been
once turned into oxen, to account the more readily for their bearing
that name.

The Propœtides, who inhabited the same island, were females of very
dissolute character. Justin, and other writers, mention a singular
and horrible custom in that island, of prostituting young girls in
the very temple of Venus. It was most probably the utter disregard
of these women for common decency, that occasioned the poets to say
that they were transformed into rocks.

FABLE VII. [X.243-297]

Pygmalion, shocked by the dissolute lives of the Propœtides, throws
off all fondness for the female sex, and resolves on leading a life
of perpetual celibacy. Falling in love with a statue which he has
made, Venus animates it; on which he marries this new object of his
affections, and has a son by her, who gives his name to the island.

“When Pygmalion saw these women spending their lives in criminal pursuits, shocked at the vices which Nature had {so} plentifully imparted to the female disposition, he lived a single life without a wife, and for a long time was without a partner of his bed. In the meantime, he ingeniously carved {a statue of} snow-white ivory with wondrous skill; and gave it a beauty with which no woman can be born; and {then} conceived a passion for his own workmanship. The appearance was that of a real virgin, whom you might suppose to be alive, and if modesty did not hinder her, to be desirous to move; so much did art lie concealed under his skill. Pygmalion admires it; and entertains, within his breast, a flame for this fictitious body.

“Often does he apply his hands to the work, to try whether it is a {human} body, or whether it is ivory; and yet he does not own it to be ivory. He gives it kisses, and fancies that they are returned, and speaks to it, and takes hold of it, and thinks that his fingers make an impression on the limbs which they touch, and is fearful lest a livid mark should come on her limbs {when} pressed. And one while he employs soft expressions, at another time he brings her presents that are agreeable to maidens, {such as} shells, and smooth pebbles, and little birds, and flowers of a thousand tints, and lilies, and painted balls, and tears of the Heliades, that have fallen from the trees. He decks her limbs, too, with clothing, and puts jewels on her fingers; he puts, {too}, a long necklace on her neck. Smooth pendants hang from her ears, and bows from her breast.[40] All things are becoming {to her}; and she does not seem less beautiful than when naked. He places her on coverings dyed with the Sidonian shell, and calls her the companion of his bed, and lays down her reclining neck upon soft feathers, as though it were sensible.

“A festival of Venus, much celebrated throughout all Cyprus, had {now} come; and heifers, with snow-white necks, having their spreading horns tipped with gold, fell, struck {by the axe}. Frankincense, too, was smoking, when, having made his offering, Pygmalion stood before the altar, and timorously said, ‘If ye Gods can grant all things, let my wife be, I pray,’ {and} he did not dare to say ‘this ivory maid,’ {but} ‘like to this {statue} of ivory.’ The golden Venus, as she herself was present at her own festival, understood what that prayer meant; and as an omen of the Divinity being favourable, thrice was the flame kindled up, and it sent up a tapering flame into the air. Soon as he returned, he repaired to the image of his maiden, and, lying along the couch, he gave her kisses. She seems to grow warm. Again he applies his mouth; with his hands, too, he feels her breast. The pressed ivory becomes soft, and losing its hardness, yields to the fingers, and gives way, just as Hymettian wax[41] grows soft in the sun, and being worked with the fingers is turned into many shapes, and becomes pliable by the very handling. While he is amazed, and is rejoicing, {though} with apprehension, and is fearing that he is deceived; the lover again and again touches the object of his desires with his hand. It is a {real} body; the veins throb, when touched with the thumb.

“Then, indeed, the Paphian hero conceives {in his mind} the most lavish expressions, with which to give thanks to Venus, and at length presses lips, no {longer} fictitious, with his own lips. The maiden, too, feels the kisses given her, and blushes; and raising her timorous eyes towards the light {of day}, she sees at once her lover and the heavens. The Goddess was present at the marriage which she {thus} effected. And now, the horns of the moon having been nine times gathered into a full orb, she brought forth Paphos; from whom the island derived its name.”

[Footnote 40: _Bows from her breast._--Ver. 265. The ‘Redimiculum’
was a sort of fillet, or head band, worn by females. Passing over
the shoulders, it hung on each side, over the breast. In the
statues of Venus, it was often imitated in gold. Clarke translates
it by the word ‘solitaire.’]

[Footnote 41: _Hymettian wax._--Ver. 284. Hymettus was a mountain
of Attica, much famed for its honey.]

EXPLANATION.

The Pygmalion here mentioned must not be mistaken for the person of
the same name, who was the brother of Dido, and king of Tyre. The
story is most probably an allegory, which was based on the fact that
Pygmalion being a man of virtuous principles, and disgusted with the
vicious conduct of the women of Cyprus, took a great deal of care in
training the mind and conduct of a young female, whom he kept at a
distance from the contact of the prevailing vices; and whom, after
having recovered her from the obdurate and rocky state to which the
other females were reduced, he made his wife, and had a son by her
named Paphos; who was said to have been the founder of the city of
Cyprus, known by his name.

FABLE VIII. [X.298-518]

Myrrha, the daughter of Cinyras and Cenchris, having conceived an
incestuous passion for her own father, and despairing of satisfying
it, attempts to hang herself. Her nurse surprises her in the act,
and prevents her death. Myrrha, after repeated entreaties and
assurances of assistance, discloses to her the cause of her despair.
The nurse, by means of a stratagem, procures her the object of her
desires, which being discovered by her father, he pursues his
daughter with the intention of killing her. Myrrha flies from her
father’s dominions and being delivered of Adonis, is transformed
into a tree.

“Of him was that Cinyras sprung, who, if he had been without issue, might have been reckoned among the happy. Of horrible events shall I {now} sing. Daughters, be far hence; far hence be parents, {too}; or, if my verse shall charm your minds, let credit not be given to me in this part {of my song}, and do not believe that it happened; or, if you will believe, believe as well in the punishment of the deed.