The Metamorphoses of Ovid Part 20

Diodorus Siculus says that the Gorgons were female warriors, who inhabited the neighborhood of Lake Tritonis, in Libya. Pausanias explains the story of Medusa, by saying that she ruled the people in that neighborhood, and laid waste the lands of the nations in her vicinity. Perseus, having fled, with some companions, from Peloponnesus, surprised her by night, and killed her, together with her escort. The next morning, the beauty of her face appeared so remarkable that he cut it off, and afterwards took it with him to Greece, to show it to the people, who could not look on it without being struck with astonishment. On this explanation we may remark, that if it is true, Perseus must have had more skill than the surgeons of our day, in being able to preserve the beauty of the features so long after death.

Again, many of the ancient historians, with Pliny, Athenaeus, and Solinus, think that the Gorgons were wild women of a savage nature, living in caves and forests, who, falling on wayfarers, committed dreadful atrocities. Palaephatus and Fulgentius think that the Gorgons really were three young women, possessed of great wealth, which they employed in a very careful manner; Phorcus, their father, having left them three islands, and a golden statue of Minerva, which they placed in their common treasury. They had one minister in common for the management of their affairs, who used to go for that purpose from one island to another, whence arose the story that they had but one eye, and that they lent it to one another alternately. Perseus, a fugitive from Argos, hearing of the golden statue, determined to obtain it; and with that view, seized their minister, or, in the allegorical language of the poets, took their eye away from them. He then sent them word, that if they would give him the statue, he would deliver up his captive, and threatened, in case of refusal, to put him to death.

Stheno and Euryale consented to this; but Medusa resisting, she was killed by Perseus. Upon his obtaining the statue, which was called the Gorgon, or Gorgonian, he broke it in pieces, and placed the head on the prow of his s.h.i.+p. As the sight of this, and the fame of the exploits of Perseus, spread terror everywhere, and caused pa.s.sive submission to him, the fable originated, that with Medusa's head he turned his enemies into stone. Landing in the Isle of Seriphus, the king fled, with all his subjects; and, on entering the chief city, finding nothing but the bare stones there, he caused the report to be spread, that he had petrified the inhabitants.

Servius, in his Commentary on the aeneid, quotes an opinion of Ammonius Serenus, that the Gorgons were young women of such beauty as to make a great impression on all that saw them; for which reason they were said to turn them into statues. Le Clerc thinks that the story bears reference to a voyage which the Phnicians had made in ancient times to the coast of Africa, whence they brought a great number of horses; and that the name 'Perseus' comes from the Phnician word 'pharscha,'

'a horseman;' while the horse Pegasus was so called from the Phnician 'pagsous,' 'a bridled horse,' according to the conjecture of Bochart.

Alexander of Myndus, a historian quoted by Athenaeus, says that Libya had an animal which the natives called 'gorgon;' that it resembled a sheep, and with its breath killed all those who approached it; that a tuft of hair fell over its eyes, which was so heavy as to be removed with difficulty, for the purpose of seeing the objects around it; but that when it was removed, by its looks it struck dead any person whom it gazed upon. He says, that in the war with Jugurtha, some of the soldiers of Marius were thus slain by it, and that it was at last killed by means of arrows discharged from a great distance.

The Gorgons are said to have inhabited the Gorgades, islands in the aethiopian Sea, the chief of which was called Cerna, according to Diodorus and Palaephatus. It is not improbable that the Cape Verde Islands were called by this name. The fable of the transformation of Atlas into the mountain of that name may possibly have been based upon the simple fact, that Perseus killed him in the neighborhood of that range, from which circ.u.mstance it derived the name which it has borne ever since. The golden apples, which Atlas guarded with so much care, were probably either gold mines, which Atlas had discovered in the mountains of his country, and had secured with armed men and watchful dogs; or sheep, whose fleeces were extremely valuable for their fineness; or else oranges and lemons, and other fruits peculiar to very hot climates, for the production of which the poets especially remarked the country of Tingitana (the modern Tangier), as being very celebrated.

FABLE X. [IV.663-803]

Perseus, after his victory over Atlas, and his change into a mountain, arrives in aethiopia, at the time when Andromeda is exposed to be devoured by a monster. He kills it, and hides the Gorgon's head under the sand, covered with sea-weed and plants; which are immediately turned into coral. He then renders thanks to the G.o.ds for his victory, and marries Andromeda. At the marriage feast he relates the manner in which he had killed Medusa; and the reason why Minerva had changed her hair into serpents.

The grandson of Hippotas[77] had shut up the winds in their eternal prison; and Lucifer, who reminds {men} of their work, was risen in the lofty sky, in all his splendor. Resuming his wings, {Perseus} binds his feet with them on either side, and is girt with his crooked weapon, and cleaves the liquid air with his winged ankles. Nations innumerable being left behind, around and below, he beholds the people of the aethiopians and the lands of Cepheus. There the unjust Ammon[78] had ordered the innocent Andromeda to suffer punishment for her mother's tongue.[79]

Soon as the descendant of Abas beheld her, with her arms bound to the hard rock, but that the light breeze was moving her hair, and her eyes were running with warm[80] tears, he would have thought her to be a work of marble. Unconsciously he takes fire, and is astonished; captivated with the appearance of her beauty, {thus} beheld, he almost forgets to wave his wings in the air. When he has lighted {on the ground}, he says, "O thou, undeserving of these chains, but {rather} of those by which anxious lovers are mutually united, disclose to me, inquiring both the name of this land and of thyself, and why thou wearest {these} chains."

At first she is silent, and, a virgin, she does not dare address[81] a man; and with her hands she would have concealed her blus.h.i.+ng features, if she had not been bound; her eyes, 'twas {all} she could do, she filled with gus.h.i.+ng tears. Upon his often urging her, lest she should seem unwilling to confess her offence, she told the name both of her country and herself, and how great had been the confidence of her mother in her beauty. All not yet being told, the waves roared, and a monster approaching,[82] appeared with its head raised out of the boundless ocean, and covered the wide expanse with its breast. The virgin shrieks aloud; her mournful father, and her distracted mother, are there, both wretched, but the latter more justly so. Nor do they bring her any help with them, but tears suitable to the occasion, and lamentations, and they cling round her body, bound {to the rock}.

Then thus the stranger says: "Plenty of time will be left for your tears {hereafter}, the season for giving aid is {but} short. If I were to demand her {in marriage}, I, Perseus, the son of Jove, and of her whom, in prison, Jove embraced in the impregnating {shower of} gold, Perseus, the conqueror of the Gorgon with her serpent locks, and who has dared, on waving wings, to move through the aetherial air, I should surely be preferred before all as your son-in-law. To so many recommendations I endeavor to add merit (if only the Deities favor me). I {only} stipulate that she may be mine, {if} preserved by my valor." Her parents embrace the condition, (for who could hesitate?) and they entreat {his aid}, and promise as well, the kingdom as a dowry. Behold! as a s.h.i.+p onward speeding, with the beak fixed {in its prow}, plows the waters, impelled by the perspiring arms[83] of youths; so the monster, moving the waves by the impulse of its breast, was as far distant from the rocks, as {that distance} in the mid s.p.a.ce of air, which a Balearic string can pa.s.s with the whirled plummet of lead; when suddenly the youth, spurning the earth with his feet, rose on high into the clouds. As the shadow of the hero was seen on the surface of the sea, the monster vented its fury on the shadow {so} beheld. And as the bird of Jupiter,[84] when he has espied on the silent plain a serpent exposing its livid back to the sun, seizes it behind; and lest it should turn upon him its raging mouth, fixes his greedy talons in its scaly neck; so did the winged {hero}, in his rapid flight through the yielding {air}, press the back of the monster, and the descendant of Inachus thrust his sword up to the very hilt in its right shoulder, as it roared aloud.

Tortured by the grievous wound, it sometimes raises itself aloft in the air, sometimes it plunges beneath the waves, sometimes it wheels about, just like a savage boar, which a pack of hounds in full cry around him affrights. With swift wings he avoids the eager bites[85] {of the monster}, and, with his crooked sword, one while wounds its back covered with hollow sh.e.l.ls, where it is exposed, at another time the ribs of its sides, and now, where its tapering tail terminates in {that of} a fish.

The monster vomits forth from its mouth streams mingled with red blood; its wings, {made} heavy {by it}, are wet with the spray. Perseus, not daring any longer to trust himself on his dripping pinions,[86] beholds a rock, which with its highest top projects from the waters {when} becalmed, {but is now} covered by the troubled sea. Resting on that, and clinging to the upper ridge[87] of the rock with his left hand, three or four times he thrusts his sword through its entrails aimed at {by him}.

A shout, with applause, fills the sh.o.r.es and the lofty abodes of the G.o.ds. Ca.s.siope and Cepheus, the father, rejoice, and salute him as their son-in-law, and confess that he is the support and the preserver of their house.

Released from her chains, the virgin walks along, both the reward and the cause of his labors. He himself washes his victorious hands in water taken {from the sea}; and that it may not injure the snake-bearing head with the bare sand, he softens the ground with leaves; and strews some weeds produced beneath the sea, and lays upon them the face of Medusa, the daughter of Phorcys. The fresh weeds, being still alive, imbibed the poison of the monster in their spongy pith, and hardened by its touch; and felt an unwonted stiffness in their branches and their leaves. But the Nymphs of the sea attempt the wondrous feat on many {other} weeds, and are pleased at the same result; and raise seed again from them scattered on the waves. Even now the same nature remains in the coral, that it receives hardness from contact with the air; and what was a plant in the sea, out of the sea becomes stone.

To three Deities he erects as many altars of turf; the left one to Mercury; the right to thee, warlike Virgin; the altar of Jove is in the middle. A cow is sacrificed to Minerva; a calf to the wing-footed {G.o.d, and} a bull to thee, greatest of the Deities. Forthwith he takes Andromeda, and the reward of an achievement so great, without any dowry.

Hymenaeus and Cupid wave their torches before them; the fires are heaped with abundant perfumes. Garlands, too, are hanging from the houses: flageolets and lyres, and pipes, and songs resound, the happy tokens of a joyous mind. The folding-doors thrown open, the entire gilded halls are displayed, and the n.o.bles of king Cepheus sit down at a feast furnished with splendid preparations. After they have done the feast, and have cheered their minds with the gifts of the generous Bacchus, the grandson of Abas inquires the customs and habits of the country.

Immediately one {of them}, Lyncides, tells him, on his inquiring, the manners and habits of the inhabitants. Soon as he had told him these things, he said, "Now, most valiant Perseus, tell us, I beseech thee, with how great valor and by what arts thou didst cut off the head all hairy with serpents." The descendant of Abas tells them that there is a spot situate beneath cold Atlas, safe in its bulwark of a solid ma.s.s; that, in the entrance of this, dwelt the two sisters, the daughters of Phorcys, who shared the use of a single eye; that he stealthily, by sly craft, while it was being handed over,[88] obtained possession of this by putting his hand in the way; and that through rocks far remote, and pathless, and bristling with woods on their craggy sides, he had arrived at the abodes of the Gorgons, and saw everywhere, along the fields and the roads, statues of men and wild beasts turned into stone, from their {natural form}, at the sight of Medusa; yet that he himself, from the reflection on the bra.s.s of the s.h.i.+eld[89] which his left hand bore, beheld the visage of the horrible Medusa; and that, while a sound sleep held her and her serpents {entranced}, he took the head from off the neck; and that Pegasus and his brother,[90] fleet with wings, were produced from the blood of {her}, their mother. He added, too, the dangers of his lengthened journey, {themselves} no fiction;[91] what seas, what lands he had seen beneath him from on high, and what stars he had reached with his waving wings.

Yet, before it was expected,[92] he was silent; {whereupon} one of the n.o.bles rejoined, inquiring why she alone, of the sisters, wore snakes mingled alternately with her hair. "Stranger," said he, "since thou inquirest on a matter worthy to be related, hear the cause of the thing thou inquirest after. She was the most famed for her beauty, and the coveted hope of many wooers; nor, in the whole of her person, was any part more worthy of notice than her hair: I have met {with some} who said they had seen it. The sovereign of the sea is said to have deflowered her in the Temple of Minerva. The daughter of Jove turned away, and covered her chaste eyes with her s.h.i.+eld. And that this might not be unpunished, she changed the hair of the Gorgon into hideous snakes. Now, too, that she may alarm her surprised foes with terror, she bears in front upon her breast, those snakes which she {thus} produced."

[Footnote 77: _Hippotas._--Ver. 663. aeolus, the G.o.d of the Winds, was the son of Jupiter, by Acesta, the daughter of Hippotas.]

[Footnote 78: _Ammon._--Ver. 671. Jupiter, with the surname of Ammon, had a temple in the deserts of Libya, where he was wors.h.i.+pped under the shape of a ram; a form which he was supposed to have a.s.sumed, when, in common with the other Deities, he fled from the attacks of the Giants. The oracle of Jupiter Ammon being consulted relative to the sea monster, which Neptune, at the request of the Nereids, had sent against the Ethiopians, answered that Andromeda must be exposed to be devoured by it; which Ovid here, not without reason, calls an unjust demand.]

[Footnote 79: _Mother's tongue._--Ver. 670. Ca.s.siope, the mother of Andromeda, had dared to compare her own beauty with that of the Nereids. Cepheus, the son of Phnix, was the father of Andromeda.]

[Footnote 80: _Warm._--Ver. 674. 'Tepido,' 'warm,' is decidedly preferable here to 'trepido,' 'trembling.']

[Footnote 81: _Dare address._--Ver. 682. Heinsius thinks that 'appellare' here is not the correct reading; and suggests 'aspectare,' which seems to be more consistent with the sense of the pa.s.sage, which would then be, 'and does not dare to look down upon the hero.']

[Footnote 82: _Monster approaching._--Ver. 689. Pliny the Elder and Solinus tell us that the bones of this monster were afterwards brought from Joppa, a seaport of Judaea, to Rome, and that the skeleton was forty feet in length, and the spinal bone was six feet in circ.u.mference.]

[Footnote 83: _The perspiring arms._--Ver. 707. 'Juvenum sudantibus acta lacertis' is translated by Clarke, 'forced forward by the arms of sweating young fellows.']

[Footnote 84: _Bird of Jupiter._--Ver. 714. The eagle was the bird sacred to Jove. The larger kinds of birds which afforded auguries from their mode of flight, were called 'praepetes.']

[Footnote 85: _Avoids the eager bites._--Ver. 723. Clarke translates this line, 'He avoids the monster's eager snaps with his swift wings.']

[Footnote 86: _His dripping pinions._--Ver. 730. 'Talaria' were either wings fitted to the ankles, or shoes having such wings fastened to them; they were supposed to be usually worn by Mercury.]

[Footnote 87: _Clinging to the upper ridge._--Ver. 733. 'Tenens juga prima sinistra' is rendered by Clarke, 'seizing the tip-top of it with his left hand.']

[Footnote 88: _Being handed over._--Ver. 766. Of course, as they had but one eye between them, they must have both been blind while it was pa.s.sing from one hand to another, so that Perseus could have had but little difficulty in effecting the theft here mentioned.]

[Footnote 89: _Bra.s.s of the s.h.i.+eld._--Ver. 783. This reflecting s.h.i.+eld Perseus is said to have received from Minerva, and by virtue of it he was enabled to see without being seen. Lucian says that Minerva herself held this reflecting s.h.i.+eld before him, and by that means afforded him the opportunity of seeing the reflection of Medusa's figure; and that Perseus, seizing her by the hair with his left hand, and keeping his eye fixed on the image reflected in the s.h.i.+eld, took his sword in his right, and cut off her head, and then, by the aid of his wings, flew away before the other Gorgon sisters were aware of what he had done.]

[Footnote 90: _Pegasus and his brother._--Ver. 786. Pegasus and Chrysaor were two winged horses, which were fabled to have sprung up from the blood of Medusa, when slain by Perseus.]

[Footnote 91: _Themselves no fiction._--Ver. 787. His dangers were not false or imaginary, inasmuch as he was pursued by Sthenyo and Euryale, the sisters of Medusa, who were fabled to have wings, and claws of iron on their hands. Ovid deals a sly hit in the words 'non falsa pericula cursus,' at the tales of travellers, who, even in his day, seem to have commenced dealing in the marvellous; as, indeed, we may learn for ourselves, on turning to the pages of Herodotus, who seems to have been often imposed upon.]

[Footnote 92: _Before it was expected._--Ver. 790. Showing thereby how delighted his audience was with his narrative.]

EXPLANATION.

It is extremely difficult to surmise what may have given rise to many of the fabulous circ.u.mstances here narrated. It has been conjectured by some, that Pegasus and his brother Chrysaor, the two horses produced from the blood of Medusa, were really two s.h.i.+ps in the harbor of the island where that princess was residing at the time when she was slain by Perseus; and that, on that event, they were seized by him. Perhaps they had the figure of a winged horse on the prow; from which circ.u.mstance the fable had its origin. Possibly, the story of the production of coral from the blood of Medusa may have originated in the fact, that on the defeat of the Gorgons, navigation became more safe, and, consequently, the fis.h.i.+ng for coral more common than it had been before.

The story of the exposure of Andromeda may be founded on the fact, that she was contracted by her parents against her will to some fierce, piratical prince, who infested the adjacent seas with his depredations; and that the betrothal was made, on condition that he should allow the realms of her father, Cepheus, to be free and undisturbed; Perseus, being informed of this, slew the pirate, and Phineus having been kept in a state of inactivity through dread of the valor of Perseus, it was fabled that he had been changed into a stone.

This interpretation of the story is the one suggested by Vossius.

Some writers think, that Phineus, the uncle of Andromeda, was the enemy from which she was rescued by Perseus, and who is here represented under the form of a monster; while others suggest that this monster was the name of the s.h.i.+p in which the pirate before mentioned was to have carried away Andromeda.

BOOK THE FIFTH.

FABLE I. [V.1-242]

While Perseus is continuing the relation of the adventures of Medusa, Phineus, to whom Andromeda has been previously promised in marriage, rushes into the palace, with his adherents, and attacks his rival.

A furious combat is the consequence, in which Perseus gives signal proofs of his valor. At length, perceiving himself likely to be overpowered by the number of his enemies, he shows them the head of the Gorgon; on which Phineus and his followers are turned into statues of stone. After this victory, he takes Andromeda with him to Argos, his native city, where he turns the usurper Prtus into stone, and re-establishes his grandfather Acrisius on the throne.

And while the hero, the son of Danae, is relating these things in the midst of the company of the subjects of Cepheus, the royal courts are filled with a raging mult.i.tude; nor is the clamor such as celebrates a marriage-feast, but one which portends dreadful warfare. You might compare the banquet, changed into a sudden tumult, to the sea, which, when calm, the boisterous rage of the winds disturbs by raising its waves.

Foremost among these, Phineus,[1] the rash projector of the onslaught, shaking an ashen spear with a brazen point, cries, "Behold! {now}, behold! I am come, the avenger of my wife, ravished from me; neither shall thy wings nor Jupiter turned into fict.i.tious gold, deliver thee from me." As he is endeavoring to hurl {his lance}, Cepheus cries out, "What art thou doing? What fancy, my brother, impels thee, in thy madness, to this crime? Is this the due acknowledgment to return for deserts so great? Dost thou repay the life of her {thus} preserved, with this reward? 'Twas not Perseus, if thou wouldst know the truth, that took her away from thee; but the incensed majesty of the Nereids, and horned Ammon, and the monster of the sea, which came to be glutted with my bowels. She was s.n.a.t.c.hed from thee at that moment, at which she was to have perished; unless it is that thou dost, in thy cruelty, insist upon that very thing, that she should perish, and wilt be appeased only by my affliction. It is not enough, forsooth, that in thy presence she was bound and that thou, both her uncle and her betrothed, didst give no a.s.sistance; wilt thou be grieving, besides, that she was saved by another, and wilt thou deprive him of his reward? If this appears great to thee, thou shouldst have recovered it from the rock to which it was fastened. Now, let him who has recovered it, through whom my old age is not childless, have what he stipulated for, both by his merits and his words; and know that he was preferred not before thee, but before certain death."

{Phineus said} nothing, on the other hand; but viewing both him and Perseus, with alternate looks, he was uncertain whether he should {first} attack the one or the other; and, having paused a short time, he vainly threw his spear, hurled with all the force that rage afforded. As it stood fixed in the cus.h.i.+on,[2] then, at length, Perseus leapt off from the couch, and in his rage would have pierced the breast of his enemy with the weapon, thrown back, had not Phineus gone behind an altar, and {thus} (how unworthily!) an altar[3] protected a miscreant.

However, the spear, not thrown in vain, stuck in the forehead of Rhtus; who, after he fell, and the steel was wrenched from the skull, he {still} struggled, and besprinkled the laid tables with his blood. But then does the mult.i.tude burst forth into ungovernable rage, and hurl their weapons. Some there are, who say that Cepheus ought to die with his son-in-law; but Cepheus has gone out by the entrance of the house, calling right and good faith to witness, and the G.o.ds of hospitality,[4]

that this disturbance is made contrary to his will. The warlike Pallas comes; and with her s.h.i.+eld protects her brother {Perseus}, and gives him courage. There was an Indian, Athis {by name},[5] whom Limnate, the daughter of the river Ganges, is believed to have brought forth beneath the gla.s.sy waters; excelling in beauty, which he improved by his rich dress; in his prime, as yet but twice eight years of age, dressed in a purple tunic, which a golden fringe bordered; a gilded necklace graced his neck, and a curved hair-pin his hair wet with myrrh. He, indeed, had been taught to hit things, although at a distance, with his hurled javelin, but {he was} more skilled at bending the bow. {Perseus} struck him even then, as he was bending with his hands the flexible horns {of a bow}, with a billet, which, placed in the middle of the altar, was smoking, and he crushed his face into his broken skull.

When the a.s.syrian Lycabas, who was a most attached friend of his, and no concealer of his real affection, saw him rolling his features, the objects of such praises, in his blood; after he had bewailed Athis, breathing forth his life from this cruel wound, he seized the bow which he had bent, and said, "And {now} let the contest against thee be with me; not long shalt thou exult in the fate of the youth, by which thou acquirest more hatred than praise." All this he had not yet said, {when} the piercing weapon darted from the string, and {though} avoided, still it hung in the folds of his garment. The grandson of Acrisius turned against him his falchion,[6] {already} proved in the slaughter of Medusa, and thrust it into his breast. But he, now dying, with his eyes swimming in black night, looked around for Athis, and sank upon him, and carried to the shades the consolation of a united death. Lo! Phorbas of Syene,[7] the son of Methion, and Amphimedon, the Libyan, eager to engage in the fight, fell down, slipping in the blood with which the earth was warm, soaked on every side; as they arose the sword met them, being thrust in the ribs of the one, {and} in the throat of Phorbas. But Perseus does not attack Erithus, the son of Actor, whose weapon is a broad battle-axe, by using his sword, but he takes up, with both hands, a huge bowl,[8] standing out with figures deeply embossed, and of vast ma.s.s in its weight, and hurls it against the man. The other vomits forth red blood, and, falling on his back, beats the ground with his dying head. Then he slays Polydaemon, sprung from the blood of Semiramis, and the Caucasian Abaris, and Lycetus, the son of Sperchius,[9] and Elyces, with unshorn locks, and Phlegias, and Clytus; and he tramples upon the heaps of the dying, which he has piled up.

But Phineus, not daring to engage hand to hand with his enemy, hurls his javelin, which accident carries against Idas, who, in vain, has declined the warfare[10] and has followed the arms of neither. He, looking at the cruel Phineus with stern eyes, says, "Since I am {thus} forced to take a side, take the enemy, Phineus, that thou hast made, and make amends for my wound with this wound." And now, just about to return the dart drawn from his body, he falls sinking down upon his limbs void of blood. Here, too, Odytes, the next in rank among the followers of Cepheus, after the king, lies prostrate under the sword of Clymenus; Hypseus kills Protenor, {and} Lyncides Hypseus. There is, too, among them the aged Emathion, an observer of justice, and a fearer of the G.o.ds; as his years prevent him from fighting, he engages by talking, and he condemns and utters imprecations against their accursed arms. As he clings to the altars[11] with trembling hands, Chromis cuts off his head with his sword, which straightway falls upon the altar, and there, with his dying tongue he utters words of execration, and breathes forth his soul in the midst of the fires. Upon this, two brothers, Broteas and Ammon invincible at boxing, if swords could only be conquered by boxing, fell by the hand of Phineus; Ampycus, too, the priest of Ceres, having his temples wreathed with a white fillet. Thou too, son of Iapetus, not to be employed for these services; but one who tuned the lyre, the work of peace, to thy voice, hadst been ordered to attend the banquet and festival with thy music. As thou art standing afar, and holding the unwarlike plectrum, Pettalus says, laughing, "Go sing the rest to the Stygian ghosts," and fixes the point of the sword in his left temple. He falls, and with his dying fingers he touches once again the strings of the lyre; and in his fall he plays a mournful dirge.[12] The fierce Lycormas does not suffer him to fall unpunished; and tearing away a ma.s.sive bar from the doorpost on the right, he dashes it against the bones of the middle of the neck {of Pettalus}; struck, he falls to the ground, just like a slaughtered bullock.